Boy Tar

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by Mayne Reid


  CHAPTER FIFTY THREE.

  ABOUT FACE!

  The aspect of my affairs had now undergone a complete change for thebetter. My larder was replenished with store enough to last me for tendays, at the least; for I made a sort of resolution that my futureration should be one rat per diem. In ten days what might I not effect?Surely I should be able to accomplish the great feat which I ought tohave attempted at the first, but which, as ill fortune would have it, Ihad hitherto considered impossible--that is, to cut my way to the deck.

  A rat a day, reflected I, will not only keep me alive, but restore someof my spent strength; and labouring constantly for ten days, I should bealmost certain to reach the topmost tier of the cargo. Perhaps in lesstime? If less, all the better; but certainly in ten days I might getthrough them all, even though there should be ten tiers of boxes betweenme and the upper deck.

  Such were the new hopes with which the successful rat-catching hadinspired me, and my mind was restored to a state of confidence andequanimity that had long been stranger to it.

  I had one apprehension that still slightly troubled me, and that wasabout getting through the cask. It was not the fear of the time itmight take, for I no longer believed that I should be pinched for time;but I was still in dread lest the fumes of the brandy (which inside thecask were as strong as ever) might again overcome my senses, despite allmy resolution to guard against a too long exposure to them. Even when Ihad entered the cask on the second occasion, it was as much as I coulddo to drag myself out of it again.

  I resolved, however, to steel myself against the seductions of thepotent spirit that dwelt within the great barrel, and retreat before Ifelt its influence too strong to be resisted.

  Notwithstanding that I was now more confident as regarded time, I had nothought of wasting it in idleness; and as soon as my dinner was washeddown by a copious libation from the water-butt, I possessed myself oncemore of my knife, and proceeded towards the empty cask, to take a newspell at enlarging the bung-hole.

  Ha! the cask was not empty. It was full of cloth. In the excitement oftrapping the "vermin," I had forgotten the circumstance of my havingplaced the cloth within the empty barrel.

  Of course, thought I, I must remove it again, in order to make room formy work; and laying aside the knife, I commenced pulling out the pieces.

  While thus engaged, a new reflection arose, and I asked myself somequestions, to the following effect:--

  Why am I removing the cloth from the brandy-cask? Why not let it remainthere? Why try to go through the cask at all?

  Certainly there was no reason why I should proceed in that direction.There _had been_, at an earlier period--while I was only searching forfood, and not thinking of the object I now desired and hoped toaccomplish--but for my newly-conceived enterprise there was no necessityto cut through the cask at all. On the contrary, it would be the worstdirection I could take. It did not lie in the line which would lead tothe hatchway, and that was the line in which my tunnel ought to point.I was pretty certain as to the direction of the hatch, for I rememberedhow I passed from it to the water-butt when I first came into the hold.

  I had struck sharply to the right, and gone in a nearly direct line forthe end of the butt. All these little points I distinctly remembered,and I was confident that my position was somewhere near the middle ofthe ship, on the side which sailors would call the "starboard beam." Togo through the cask, therefore, would lead me too far aft of themain-hatchway, which was that by which I had come down. Moreover, therewas still the difficulty of broaching the side of the cask--greatlyexaggerated, of course, by the dangerous atmosphere I should becompelled to breathe while effecting it.

  Why, then, should I attempt it at all? Why not return, and proceed oncemore in the direction of the boxes? Circumstances were changed since Iwas last there. I could now find vent for my "back-water," since theempty cask would serve for that, in one case as well as the other.Besides, it would be much easier to cut through the deal board than thehard oak; and, moreover, I had made some progress in that--the right--direction already. Therefore, considering all things--the danger aswell as the difficulty--I came to the conclusion that, by tunnellingthrough the cask, I would be heading the wrong way; and, in this belief,I turned right about, determined to take the other.

  Before proceeding to the boxes, I repacked the cloth into the cask, andadded more, placing it piece by piece, with sufficient care, andafterwards wedging it in as tightly as my strength would permit.

  I was considerate, also, to return my nine rats to the bag, and draw thestring; for I suspected that I had not killed all the rats in the ship,and I feared that the comrades of the defunct nine might take a fancy toeat their old shipmates. This I had been told was not an uncommon habitof the hideous brutes, and I determined to guard against it, so far asmy victims were concerned.

  When these arrangements were completed, I swallowed a fresh cup ofwater, and crawled once more into one of the empty boxes.

 

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