The Survivors of the Chancellor (19 page)

We all laid ourselves down flat upon our backs and kept
our mouths wide open. The rain splashed into my face,
wetted my lips, and trickled down my throat. Never can
I describe the ecstasy with which I imbibed that renovating moisture. The parched and swollen glands relaxed,
I breathed afresh, and my whole being seemed revived with
a strange and requickened life.

The rain lasted about twenty minutes, when the cloud,
only half exhausted, passed quite away from over us.

We grasped each other's hands as we rose from the platform on which we had been lying, and mutual congratulations, mingled with gratitude, poured forth from our long
silent lips. Hope, however evanescent it might be, for the
moment had returned, and we yielded to the expectation
that, ere long, other and more abundant clouds might come
and replenish our store.

The next consideration was how to preserve and economize what little had been collected by the barrel, or imbibed
by the outspread sails. It was found that only a few pints
of rain-water had fallen into the barrel; to this small
quantity the sailors were about to add what they could by
wringing out the saturated sails, when Curtis made them
desist from their intention.

"Stop, stop!" he said "we must wait a moment; we
must see whether this water from the sails is drinkable."

I looked at him in amazement. Why should not this be
as drinkable as the other? He squeezed a few drops out
of one of the folds of a sail into a tin pot, and put it to his
lips. To my surprise, he rejected it immediately, and upon
tasting it for myself I found it not merely brackish, but
briny as the sea itself. The fact was that the canvas had
been so long exposed to the action of the waves, that it had
become thoroughly impregnated by salt, which of course
was taken up again by the water that fell upon it. Disappointed we were; but with several pints of water in our
possession, we were not only contented for the present, but
sanguine in our prospect for the future.

JANUARY 17. — As a natural consequence of the alleviation of our thirst, the pangs of hunger returned more violently than ever. Although we had no bait, and even if we
had we could not use it for want of a whirl, we could not
help asking whether no possible means could be devised for
securing one out of the many sharks that were still perpetually swarming about the raft. Armed with knives, like
the Indians in the pearl fisheries, was it not practicable to
attack the monsters in their own element? Curtis expressed his willingness personally to make the attempt, but
so numerous were the sharks that we would not for one
moment hear of his risking his life in a venture of which
the danger was as great as the success was doubtful.

By plunging into the sea, or by gnawing at a piece of
metal, we could always, or at least often, do something that
cheated us into believing that we were mitigating the pains
of thirst; but with hunger it was different. The prospect,
too, of rain seemed hopeful, while for getting food there
appeared no chance; and, as we knew that nothing could
compensate for the lack of nutritive matter, we were soon
all cast down again. Shocking to confess, it would be
untrue to deny that we surveyed each other with the eye
of an eager longing; and I need hardly explain to what a
degree of savageness the one idea that haunted us had reduced our feelings.

Ever since the storm-cloud brought us the too transient
shower the sky has been tolerably clear, and although at
that time the wind had slightly freshened, it has since
dropped, and the sail hangs idly against our mast. Except
for the trifling relief it brings by modifying the temperature, we care little now for any breeze. Ignorant as we
are as to what quarter of the Atlantic we have been carried
by the currents, it matters very little to us from what direction the wind may blow if only it would bring, in rain or
dew, the moisture of which we are so dreadfully in need.

My brain is haunted by most horrible nightmares; not
that I suppose I am in anyway more distressed than my
companions, who are lying in their usual places, vainly
endeavoring to forget their sufferings in sleep.

After a time I fell into a restless, dreamy doze. I was
neither asleep nor awake. How long I remained in that
state of stupor I could hardly say, but at length a strange
sensation brought me to myself. Was I dreaming, or was
there not really some unaccustomed odor floating in the
air? My nostrils became distended, and I could scarcely
suppress a cry of astonishment; but some instinct kept me
quiet, and I laid myself down again with the puzzled sensation sometimes experienced when we have forgotten a
word or name. Only a few minutes, however, had elapsed
before another still more savory puff induced me to take
several long inhalations. Suddenly, the truth seemed to
flash across my mind. "Surely," I muttered to myself,
"this must be cooked meat that I can smell."

Again and again I sniffed, and became more convinced
than ever that my senses were not deceiving me. But from
what part of the raft could the smell proceed? I rose to
my knees, and having satisfied myself that the odor came
from the front, I crept stealthily as a cat under the sails
and between the spars in that direction. Following the
promptings of my scent, rather than my vision, like a bloodhound in track of his prey. I searched everywhere I could,
now finding, now losing, the smell according to my change
of position, or the dropping of the wind. At length I got
the true scent, once for all, so that I could go straight to
the object for which I was in search.

Approaching the starboard angle of the raft, I came
to the conclusion that the smell that had thus keenly excited my cravings was the smell of smoked bacon; the membranes of my tongue almost bristled with the intenseness of
my longing.

Crawling along a little farther, under a thick roll of
sail-cloth, I was not long in securing my prize. Forcing
my arm below the roll, I felt my hand in contact with something wrapped up in paper. I clutched it up, and carried
it off to a place where I could examine it by the help of
the light of the moon that had now made its appearance
above the horizon. I almost shrieked for joy. It was a
piece of bacon. True, it did not weigh many ounces, but
small as it was it would suffice to alleviate the pangs of
hunger for one day at least. I was just on the point of
raising it to my mouth, when a hand was laid upon my
arm. It was only by a most determined effort that I kept
myself from screaming out. One instant more, and I
found myself face to face with Hobart.

In a moment I understood all. Plainly this rascal Hobart had saved some provisions from the wreck, upon which
he had been subsisting ever since. The steward had provided for himself, while all around him were dying of
starvation. Detestable wretch! This accounts for the
inconsistency of his well-to-do looks and his pitiable groans.
Vile hypocrite!

Yet why, it struck me, should I complain? Was not I
reaping the benefit of that secret store that he, for himself,
had saved?

But Hobart had no idea of allowing me the peaceable
possession of what he held to be his own. He made a dash
at the fragment of bacon, and seemed determined to wrest
it from my grasp. We struggled with each other, but
although our wrestling was very violent, it was very noiseless.

We were both of us aware that it was absolutely necessary that not one of those on board should know anything
at all about the prize for which we were contending. Nor
was my own determination lessened by hearing him groan
out that it was his last, his only morsel. "His!" I
thought; "it shall be mine now!"

And still careful that no noise of commotion should arise,
I threw him on his back, and grasping his throat so that
he gurgled again, I held him down until, in rapid mouthfuls, I had swallowed the last scrap of the food for which
we had fought so hard.

I released my prisoner, and quietly crept back to my own
quarters.

And not a soul is aware that I have broken my fast!

JANUARY 18. — After this excitement I awaited the approach of day with a strange anxiety. My conscience told
me that Hobart had the right to denounce me in the presence of all my fellow-passengers; yet my alarm was vain.
The idea of my proceedings being exposed by him was
quite absurd; in a moment he would himself be murdered
without pity by the crew, if it should be revealed that, unknown to them, he had been living on some private store
which, by clandestine cunning, he had reserved. But, in
spite of my anxiety, I had a longing for day to come.

The bit of food that I had thus stolen was very small;
but small as it was it had alleviated my hunger; and I was
now tortured with remorse, because I had not shared the
meager morsel with my fellow-sufferers. Miss Herbey,
Andre, his father, all had been forgotten, and from the bottom of my heart I repented of my cruel selfishness.

Meantime the moon rose high in the heavens, and the
first streaks of dawn appeared. There is no twilight in
these low latitudes, and the full daylight came well nigh
at once. I had not closed my eyes since my encounter with
the steward, and ever since the first blush of day I had
labored under the impression that I could see some unusual
dark mass half way up the mast. But although it again
and again caught my eye, it hardly roused my curiosity,
and I did not rise from the bundle of sails on which I was
lying to ascertain what it really was. But no sooner did
the rays of the sun fall upon it than I saw at once that
it was the body of a man, attached to a rope, and swinging
to and fro with the motion of the raft.

A horrible presentiment carried me to the foot of the
mast, and, just as I had guessed, Hobart had hanged himself. I could not for a moment doubt that it was I myself
that had impelled him to the suicide. A cry of horror had
scarcely escaped my lips, when my fellow-passengers were
at my side, and the rope was cut. Then came the sailors.
And what was it that made the group gather so eagerly
around the body? Was it a humane desire to see whether
any sparks of life remained? No, indeed; the corpse was
cold, and the limbs were rigid; there was no chance that
animation should be restored. What then was it that kept
them lingering so close around? It was only too apparent
what they were about to do.

But I did not, could not, look. I refused to take part
in the horrible repast that was proposed. Neither would
Miss Herbey, Andre, nor his father, consent to alleviate
their pangs of hunger by such revolting means. I know
nothing for certain as to what Curtis did, and I did not
venture to inquire; but of the others, — Falsten, Dowlas,
the boatswain, and all the rest, — I know that, to assuage
their cravings, they consented to reduce themselves to the
level of beasts of prey; they were transformed from human
beings into ravenous brutes.

The four of us who sickened at the idea of partaking
of the horrid meal withdrew to the seclusion of our tent;
it was bad enough to hear, without witnessing the appalling
operation. But, in truth, I had the greatest difficulty in the
world in preventing Andre from rushing out upon the cannibals, and snatching the odious food from their clutches.
I represented to him the hopelessness of his attempt, and
tried to reconcile him by telling him that if they liked the
food they had a right to it. Hobart had not been murdered; he had died by his own hand; and, after all, as the
boatswain had once remarked to me, "It was better to eat
a dead man than a live one."

Do what I would, however, I could not quiet Andre's
feeling of abhorrence; in his disgust and loathing he seemed
for the time to have quite forgotten his own sufferings.

Meanwhile, there was no concealing the truth that we
were ourselves dying of starvation, while our eight companions would probably, by their loathsome diet, escape that
frightful destiny. Owing to his secret hoard of provisions
Hobart had been by far the strongest among us; he had been
supported, so that no organic disease had affected his tissues,
and really might be said to be in good health when his
chagrin drove him to his desperate suicide. But what was
I thinking of! whither were my meditations carrying me
away? was it not coming to pass that the cannibals were
rousing my envy instead of exciting my horror?

Very shortly after this I heard Dowlas talking about the
possibility of obtaining salt by evaporating seawater in the
sun; "and then," he added, "we can salt down the rest."

The boatswain assented to what the carpenter had said,
and probably the suggestion was adopted.

Silence, the most profound, now reigns upon the raft. I
presume that nearly all have gone to sleep. One thing I
do know, that they are no longer hungry.

JANUARY 19. — All through the day the sky remained unclouded and the heat intense; and night came on without
bringing much sensible moderation in the temperature. I
was unable to get any sleep, and, toward morning, was disturbed by hearing an angry clamor going on outside the
tent; it aroused M. Letourneur, Andre, and Miss Herbey,
as much as myself, and we were anxious to ascertain the
cause of the tumult.

The boatswain, Dowlas, and all the sailors were storming
at each other in frightful rage; and Curtis, who had come
forward from the stern, was endeavoring to pacify them.

"But who has done it? we must know who has done it,"
said Dowlas, scowling with vindictive passion on the group
around him.

"There's a thief," howled out the boatswain, "and he
shall be found! Let's know who has taken it."

"I haven't taken it!" "Nor I! Nor I!" cried the
sailors one after another.

And then they set to work again to ransack every quarter
of the raft; they rolled every spar aside, they overturned
everything on board, and only grew more and more incensed
with anger as their search proved fruitless."