Boy Tar

by Mayne Reid

  CHAPTER FORTY THREE.

  SEARCH AFTER ANOTHER BISCUIT-BOX.

  For many hours I remained brooding over the altered state of my affairs,with no thought arising to cheer me. I felt so hopeless that I did noteven take stock of the biscuits, or rather the crumbs that were left. Iguessed roughly by the size of the little heap that it might sustainlife--keeping up the very small ration I had been hitherto using--forabout ten days--not more. Ten days, then, or at most a fortnight, had Ito live, with the prospect of certain death at the end of that time--anda death that experience told me must be slow and painful. I had alreadysuffered the extreme of hunger, almost to death, and I dreaded to try itagain; but there appeared no hope of escaping from such a doom--atleast, none appeared at the moment.

  The shock that followed the discovery of my loss rendered me for a longtime unable to think clearly. My mind was dejected and pusillanimous--my brain, as it were, paralysed--so that whenever I took to thinking, mythoughts only wandered, or centred on the terrible doom that waited me.

  In time a reaction arrived, and I was better able to reflect on thecircumstances in which I was now placed. Gradually hope dawned again,though it was only, of an indistinct and very indefinite character--literally but a "ray." The thought that occurred to me was simply this:that as I had found one box of biscuits, why might there not be asecond? If not immediately beside the first, it might be near. Asstated already, I believed that in the stowage of a ship, goods of thesame kind are not always placed together, but miscellaneously--just asthe different packages may fit to the shape of the hold and to eachother. I had proof that this was the usual arrangement, since aroundme, and in juxta-position, were articles of very different kinds--biscuits, broadcloth, brandy, and the butt of water. Although there wasno second box of biscuits immediately adjoining the one already emptied,there might be another _not far off_--perhaps just on the other side ofthe cloth-box, or in some place where I might be able to _get at it_.

  This, then, was the thought that inspired me with new hope.

  As soon as I had conceived it, all my energies returned, and I set aboutreflecting on what course I should take to ascertain whether there wasanother biscuit-box that it was possible for me to reach.

  The plan of reaching it was already shaped out in my mind. In fact,there was but one way--with my knife. No other means were within myreach, and therefore I thought of none. To cut a way with my knifethrough such packages--boxes, bales, or barrels--as might lie between mychamber and the desired biscuits, was the idea that had entered my mind,and it seemed more feasible and practicable the longer I reflected uponit. Deeds that would appear difficult, if not impossible, underordinary circumstances, present a different aspect to one whose life isin danger, and who knows it may be saved by accomplishing them. Thedirest hardships, and severest privations, become light trials when lifeand death are on the issue.

  It was from this point of view that I was compelled to contemplate thefeat I now intended to perform; and I thought but lightly of the timeand trouble, so long as there was a prospect of their saving me fromhorrid death by starvation.

  I resolved, therefore, to hew a way with my knife among the packages ofmerchandise, in hopes of coming to one that contained food. Ifsuccessful, then I should live; if not, I must die. Another thought hadsome effect in encouraging me to the attempt. It would be better for meto pass my time still hoping, than to yield to despair and remain idle.To live for two weeks in the certain anticipation of death, would havebeen a thousand times more painful than death itself.

  Far better to struggle on, nourishing hope with the exertions I shouldbe making for my safety. The very labour itself would help me to passthe time, and hinder me from brooding too keenly on my doubtful fate.

  Thus ran my reflections, as I became once more roused to the energy thatfor awhile had forsaken me.

  I was on my knees, knife in hand, resolved and ready. That preciouspiece of steel, how prized at the moment! I would not have exchanged itfor the full of the ship of red gold!

  I have said that I was upon my knees. I could not have stood erect, hadI wished it. There was not room. The ceiling of my cabin was too low.

  Was it my peculiar attitude that suggested the thought? Perhaps it hadsome influence. I cannot now remember; but I well remember that beforeproceeding farther in my design, I offered up a prayer--humble andearnest--to God, who had already, as I firmly believed, stretched forthhis hand to succour me. I prayed for guidance, for strength, forsuccess. I need not add that my prayer was heard, else I should not nowhave been living to record it.

  My intention was first to work through the cloth-box, and discover whatwas behind it. That which had contained the biscuits was now empty, andI could get through it without trouble. It will be remembered that Ihad already been inside the biscuit-box while searching for another, andalso while procuring the pieces of cloth; and so far my way was clear.But to get across the one in which the broadcloth was packed, it wouldbe necessary to pull out several more pieces, to give me room to work onto the next. My knife, therefore, would not be needed at firststarting; and putting it aside, where I could easily lay my hands uponit again, I ducked my head and crawled into the empty box. In anotherminute I was pulling and tugging away at the stiff rolls of broadcloth--all my strength being exerted, and all my energies employed in detachingthem from their places.