So convinced was I of this, that on awaking I flung out my arms mechanically, and groped all over the spread broadcloth, and around the edges of my lurking-place, expecting to lay them upon some living creature!

Half asleep, I still believed it was a crab; but as my senses became clearer, I reasoned upon the improbability of there being one in such a place. And yet, why not? A crab might very well find lodgment in the hold of a ship: it might have been brought aboard in some strange way— among the ballast—or possibly carried aboard by some of the sailors, out of curiosity; it may have been abandoned to its fate, and left to hide itself among the numerous corners and crevices which are found among the timbers of a vessel's hold? It might procure sustenance in the bilge-water, or in the ballast rubbish, or perhaps, like the chameleon, crabs could exist on air?

I had such thoughts, but only for a few moments after awaking; and as I reasoned further on the matter, I abandoned them. It could only be my dream that had made me think of crabs at all. But for that, the thought of such a creature would not have entered my mind. There could have been no crab, else I should have laid my hands upon it; for I had lost no time in groping over the surface of my cloth carpeting—every inch of it—and I found nothing there. There were but two crevices leading out of my cell, by which a crab of any considerable size could have entered or escaped; and I had felt these places at the very first moment. So slow a traveller could not have passed through either of them in so short a time! No, there could have been no crab; and yet there was something, certainly—something had crawled over me. I could not be convinced of the contrary.

I lay for a long time pondering over the subject of my dream. The unpleasant feeling which it had occasioned me soon passed away. It was very natural I should have dreamt what I did, since it was almost the same thing I had been thinking of during the continuance of the storm.

On examining my watch, I found that I had considerably overslept myself, having been unconscious for nearly sixteen hours! This prolonged slumber was the result of my having been kept so long awake by the storm, and the sickness that it had occasioned me.

I now felt more hungry than I had done for days, and at once set about satisfying that appetite. Strive as I would, I could not resist the temptation of eating more than my allotted ration, and I did not leave off till I had eaten four of my precious biscuits. I had been told that nothing creates so keen an appetite as a turn of sea-sickness, and I found this to be truth. Indeed, I felt as if I could have consumed the whole of my stock, and the four biscuits I ate scarcely took the edge well off my hunger. Nothing but the dread of running short hindered me from eating three times as many.

I was also in great thirst, and swallowed far more than my allowance of water; but I was not so careful of this, as I believed it would be quite sure to last me to the end of the voyage. One thing about the water troubled me not a little. Each time that I went to take a drink, a considerable waste took place, in consequence of my having no vessel to draw it in; and, moreover, to drink from the hole I had made was altogether an unsatisfactory way of quenching my thirst. As soon as the peg was drawn out, a strong jet would shoot forth, to which I applied my mouth. But I could not swallow it as fast as it came, and it was sure— after taking away my breath, and half choking me—to squirt all over my face, wetting my clothes and everything else about me, before I could get the stopper back into its place.

If I only had had a vessel to draw it in—a cup or anything?

I thought of using one of my buskins, for I had no need for them otherwise; but I felt some qualms about making this use of them.

I should not have hesitated to have drunk out of them, or any other vessel, when pressed by thirst previous to my having tapped the butt; but now that I had water in plenty, the case was different. Still, I could get one of them sufficiently clean for the purpose. Better, thought I, to waste a little water in washing one of them, than lose a large quantity every time I went to drink.

I was about to put this design into execution, when a better idea came into my head—that was to make a drinking-cup out of a piece of broadcloth. This was altogether better. I had already observed that the cloth was waterproof—at least, the water that was spilt from the butt appeared to lie upon it without passing through—for I had been obliged to shake it off on each occasion. A piece of the cloth, therefore, formed into a cup shape, would be likely enough to serve my purpose; and accordingly I resolved to make me such a vessel.

It needed only to cut a broad strip with my knife, roll it up, as if I was intending it for a funnel—taking care to fold it of several thicknesses of the cloth. When rolled, I bound it in its place with a fragment of the thong from my buskins, and I thus succeeded in making me a drinking-vessel, which would, and did, serve me as well as if it had been of best china or glass. I was henceforth enabled to take a drink more to my satisfaction, and without wasting the precious fluid upon which my life depended.



CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.

MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE.

As I had eaten so many biscuits for breakfast, I intended to make breakfast serve me for that day; but, hungering as I was, I could not carry out my good intent. About mid-day, I found myself groping at the box, and the result was, that I abstracted another biscuit. I resolved, however, to eat only half of it for dinner, and keep the other half for supper. Following out this resolution, I broke the biscuit across the middle, and laid one half aside. The other I ate, washing it down with a little more water.

You may think it strange that I did not fancy a little brandy along with it, which I might have had without any trouble, since there were at least a hundred gallons of it within reach. The brandy, however, was nothing to me; and the great cask might as well have contained vitriol, for aught I cared for it. There were several reasons why I did not meddle with it. First, because I did not relish it; second, because it made me feel sick, and nauseated both my palate and stomach. I suppose it had been of an inferior kind, intended, not as an article of commerce, but for the use of the sailors, as casks of very bad brandy and rum are carried in most ships for the use of the crew. A third reason why I kept clear of the brandy was, that I had already drunk of it—only about one wine-glassful—and it had the effect of making me so thirsty that I drank nearly half a gallon of water before I succeeded in fully quenching my thirst again. I reasoned, therefore, that if I touched the brandy, it would cause me, either great suffering from thirst, or that I should have to use more water than I could spare. Therefore it was, that I determined to abstain altogether from this alcoholic spirit.

When my watch warned me that it was my usual hour to go to sleep, I resolved to eat the odd half biscuit, which I had reserved for supper; and then "retire for the night."

This operation consisted simply in stretching myself in a new position, and drawing a fold or two of the broadcloth over me, to keep me from getting chilled while asleep.

For the first week after leaving port, I had found it very cold, for it was the winter season when we left home. The cloth, however, after it was discovered, enabled me to wrap up snugly enough, and I no longer cared for the cold. After a time, however, I began to perceive that the cold had quite taken its departure, and each day and night the atmosphere in the hold of the ship appeared to be growing warmer. On the night after the storm had passed, it did not feel at all cold, and the slightest covering sufficed.

At first, I was surprised by this sudden change in the state of the atmosphere; but when I reflected a little, I was able to explain it to my satisfaction. "Beyond a doubt," thought I, "we have been all the while sailing southward, and we are getting into the hot latitudes of the torrid zone."

I knew but little of what that meant, but I had heard that the torrid zone—or the tropics, as it was also called—lay to the south of England; and that there the climate was hotter than the hottest summer day at home. I had also heard that Peru was a southern country, and therefore we must be going in a southerly direction to reach it.

This was a very good explanation of the warm weather that had set in. The ship had now been sailing for nearly two weeks; and allowing her to have made two hundred miles a day (and ships, I knew, often go faster than that), she would at this time be a long way from England, and in a different climate altogether.

Thus reasoning with myself, I contrived to pass that afternoon and evening, and as I felt the hands of my watch indicating the hour of ten, I resolved, as already stated, to eat the half biscuit, and then go to sleep.

I first drew a cup of water, so that the biscuit might not be eaten dry; and, this done, I stretched forth my hand for the bread. I knew the exact spot where it lay, for I had a little corner, just alongside the great beam, where I kept my knife and cup, and wooden almanack—a sort of little shelf, raised by a roll of the cloth above the common level of my cell. There I had placed the half biscuit, and there, of course, I could lay my hand upon it as well without a light as with one. So perfectly had I become acquainted with every corner of my apartment, and every crevice leading from it, that I could place my finger on any given spot of the size of a crown-piece, without the slightest deviation.

I reached forth my hand, then, to clutch the precious morsel. Judge my astonishment when I touched the spot where I supposed it to be lying, and found it was not there!

At first, I fancied I might be mistaken—that perhaps I had not left it in the usual place on my shelf. There it certainly was not.

I felt the cloth cup, for that was in my hand full of water. The knife was in its place—so, too, the little notched stick, and the pieces of the string which I had used in measuring the butt—but no half biscuit!

Could I have put it anywhere else? I thought not; and yet, to make sure, I felt all over the bottom of my cell, and among the folds and wrinkles of the cloth, and even in the pockets both of my jacket and trousers. I felt in my buskins too, for these were not upon my feet, as I no longer needed them, but lying idle in a corner. I left not an inch of the place that I did not examine—and minutely too—yet still no half biscuit could be found!

I looked carefully for it, not so much on account of its value; but that its disappearance from the shelf was something rather strange—stranger still that I could nowhere lay my hand upon it.

Had I eaten it?

I began to fancy that I had done so. Perhaps, during a period of absent-mindedness, I might have swallowed it up, without ever thinking of what I was doing. Certainly, I had no remembrance of having tasted food since I ate its counterpart—the other half; and if I had eaten it also, it must have done me very little good. I had neither enjoyed the meal, nor yet did my stomach appear to have received much benefit from it, since I was just as hungry as if I had not tasted food that day.

I recollected perfectly having placed it alongside the knife and cup; and how could it part from the place, unless it had been taken away by my own hand? I could not have thrown it accidentally from the little shelf, for I did not remember making a movement in that direction. But even so, it would still have been somewhere about me? It could not get underneath the butt, for the crevice there was closed up, regularly caulked with pieces of the cloth. I had done this for the purpose of making a level surface to rest upon.

Certainly the half biscuit was not to be found. It was gone—whether down my throat or in some other way, I could not decide—but if the former, I thought to myself, what a pity I had eaten it without knowing what I was about, for certainly my absence of mind had deprived me of all enjoyment of the meal.

I wavered for a long while, as to whether I should take another biscuit out of the box, or go to bed supperless. But the dread of the future decided me to abstain; and, summoning all my resolution, I drank off the cold water, placed my cup upon the shelf, and laid myself down for the night.



CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.

AN UGLY INTRUDER.

For a long while I did not sleep, but lay thinking over the mysterious disappearance of the half biscuit. I say mysterious, for I was more than half convinced that I had not eaten it, but that it had gone in some other way; though how, I could not even guess, since I was perfectly alone, the only living thing, as I supposed, in that vessel's hold which could have touched it. Ah! now I thought of my dream—of the crab! Perhaps, after all, there might have been a crab?—and though it was but a dream that I was drowned, yet the rest might be true enough, and a crab might actually have crawled over me? It might have eaten the biscuit?

It would not be its natural food, I knew; but shut up in a ship's hold, where it could have no choice, it would be likely enough to eat such a thing rather than suffer starvation. There might be a crab after all?

Partly by such a train of reflections, and partly by the hungry craving of my stomach, I was kept awake for hours. At length I found myself going off, not into a regular sleep, but a half sleep or doze, from which every two or three minutes I awoke again.

In one of these intervals, during which I lay awake, I fancied that I heard a noise, different from the sounds that habitually fell upon my ear. The ship was running smoothly, and I could distinguish this unusual sound above the soft sighing of the waves. This last was now so slight, that the ticking of my watch appeared louder and more distinct than I had ever observed it.

The sound which had attracted my attention, and which was something new to me, appeared like a gentle scratching. It came from the corner where my buskins lay empty and idle. Something was scratching at my buskins!

"The crab, to a certainty!" I said to myself. The thought at once drove away all ideas of sleep; and I placed myself in an attitude to listen, and, if possible, lay my hands on the thievish intruder; for I now felt certain that, crab or no crab, whatever creature was making the scratching noise was the same that had stolen my supper.

Once more I heard the scraping and scratching noise. Certainly it proceeded from my buskins?

Slowly and silently I raised myself into a half-upright position, so that I could reach the buskins with a single effort, and in this attitude I again listened for a repetition of the sound.

But though I remained patient for a considerable time, I did not hear it again; and I then passed my hands over the buskins, and around the place where they were lying, but felt nothing there. They appeared to be just as they had been left, and nothing amiss. I also groped over all the floor of my cell, but with like result. Nothing was there that ought not to have been.

I was not a little perplexed, and lay for a good while awake and listening, without hearing anything more of the mysterious noise. Sleep once more began to steal upon me, and I dropped off into a series of dozing fits as before.

Once again the scraping and scratching noise falling upon my ear disturbed me, and caused me to lie listening. Most surely it came from the buskins; but when I moved to get within reach of them, the noise instantly ceased, as if I had frightened the creature that was making it; and, just as before, I groped everywhere and found nothing!

"Ha!" muttered I to myself, "I now know what has been causing all this disturbance: no crab at all—for a crab could not possibly crawl so quickly out of the way. The intruder is a mouse. Nothing more nor less. Strange I did not think of this before! I might have guessed that it was a mouse, and not have made myself so uneasy about it. It could only be a mouse; and, but for my dream, I should, perhaps, never have thought of its being a crab."

With this reflection I lay down again, intending to go to sleep at once, and not trouble myself any more about the mouse or its movements.

But I had scarcely settled my cheek upon the pillow, when the scratching began afresh, and it now occurred to me that the mouse was gnawing at my buskins, and probably doing them a serious damage. Although they were of no service to me just then, I could not permit them to be eaten up in this way; and, raising myself once more, I made a dash to catch the mouse.

In this I was unsuccessful. I did not even touch the animal; but I thought I heard it scampering through the crevice that led out between the brandy-cask and the timbers of the ship.

On handling the buskins, I discovered to my chagrin that half of the upper leather of one of them was eaten away! The mouse must have been busy to have made so much ruin in so short a time, for it was but a few hours before that I had had the buskins in my hands, and I had then noticed nothing wrong with them. Perhaps several mice had been at work? This was likely enough.

Partly to save the buskins from total destruction, and partly to hinder myself from being disturbed again, I took them out of the corner, and placing them near my head, covered them up with a fold of the broadcloth. This done, I once more laid myself out for a sleep.

After awhile the dozing fit came on me, but I was again awakened by a singular sensation, as of something crawling over me! It appeared as if some creature had just crept over my legs with great rapidity.

The feeling startled me into complete wakefulness, I did not move, however, but lay quietly waiting to see if the thing should come again.

Of course, I concluded that it was still my mouse, now running about in search of the buskins. I was getting annoyed by its intrusion, and I knew it would be no use to grope for it, as it would easily escape through one of the crevices, as soon as it found me moving. I determined, therefore, to lie quite still, and let it again crawl upon me as before, and I could then easily seize upon it. It was not my intention to kill the little creature; but I intended to give it a good squeeze, or pinch its ear sharply, so that it would not come troubling me any more.

I lay a long while without hearing or feeling it. At last, however, my patience was likely to be rewarded. I could tell by a slight movement, in the piece of cloth that covered my limbs, that something was running upon it, and I even fancied that I heard the pattering of little feet. Nearer still the cloth appeared to move, until I could distinctly feel a creature crawling on my ankles, and then upward to my thighs. It appeared heavy for a mouse; but I did not stay to reflect about this, for now or never was the time to seize upon it.

Down came my hands, with fingers outstretched to cover it; but, oh, horror! what a mistake I had made.

Instead of the little tiny mouse, which I intended to clutch, my hand rested upon the body of an animal almost as large as a kitten! There was no mistaking what it was. Beyond doubt, it was a great, horrid rat!



CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.

REFLECTIONS ON RATS.

The ugly animal left me no choice to doubt of its species. The moment my fingers touched its smooth coat, I recognised it by the "feel;" but I felt the wicked creature in a double sense, for before I could disengage my hand from the clutch I had so rashly taken, its sharp teeth had pierced my thumb, until they nearly met through the flesh. At the same instant its screech sounded in my ears shrill and terrifying!

I withdrew my fingers as quickly as I could, and flinging myself to the furthest corner of the chamber—that is, the one which I thought furthest from my disagreeable visitor—there for some minutes I crouched, listening to hear whether the hideous animal had left me.

I could hear nothing, and I concluded it had made a retreat to some other part of the ship. Most probably it was as badly scared as I— though that could hardly have been—and in proof that I was the more frightened of the two, the rat had the presence of mind to use its teeth and bite me, while I was for the moment quite driven out of my senses.

In the brief encounter my antagonist had certainly proved victorious; for in addition to the fright he had given me, he had inflicted a severe and painful wound, that was every moment growing more painful. I perceived that my thumb was bleeding freely, for I could feel the blood running over my fingers, and glueing them to the very tips.

I could have borne my discomfiture calmly enough, for what signified the bite of a rat? but that was not the whole question. The thought that troubled me was, whether the creature had quite gone away, or whether it was still near, and would return?

The thought of its coming back again, perhaps emboldened by having got off without punishment, caused me very great annoyance.

You may wonder at this, but it was really the case. During all my life I have had a sort of instinctive antipathy to rats—I might even say a dread of them. This feeling was stronger while I was only a boy; but, although I have since encountered animals of a much more dangerous character, and fought with some, I do not remember any that ever inspired me with more fear than I have felt in coming in contact with that common and ubiquitous creature—the rat. It is a fear blended with a feeling of disgust; and it is a fear not altogether unfounded— for I know of many well-authenticated cases, in which rats have attacked human beings, and not a few where children, and even men, wounded or otherwise disabled, have actually been killed and devoured by these hideous omnivora.

Many such stories had been told me while I was a boy; and it was but natural I should remember them at that moment. I did remember them; and under the influence of such memories, I felt a fear upon me very much akin to terror. The rat, too, was one of the largest I had ever encountered, so large that for a moment I could scarce believe it to be a rat. It felt as bulky as a half-grown cat.

As soon as I became a little composed, I tied up my thumb with a rag torn from my shirt. The wound in a few minutes' time had grown exceedingly painful—for the tooth of a rat is almost as poisonous as the bite of a scorpion—and small as was the scratch, I anticipated a good deal of suffering from it.

I need not add that the incident had banished sleep, at least for a time. In reality I did not go to sleep again till nearly morning; and then I awoke every minute or two with a start—from fearful dreams, in which the vision was either a rat or a crab making to seize me by the throat!

For hours before I slept at all, I lay listening to see if the brute would return; but I did not note any signs of his presence for the remainder of that night. Perhaps the squeeze I had given him—for I had come down rather heavily upon him—had frightened him enough to hinder a repetition of his visit. With this hope I consoled myself, else it might have been still longer before I should have slept.

Of course, the presence of the rat at once accounted for the disappearance of my half biscuit, as well as for the damaged upper leather of my buskin, which latter had been lying at the door of his milder cousin the mouse. The rat, then, must have been prowling around me all the while, without my having known of it.

During the hours I lay listening, before falling asleep again, my mind was busy with one particular thought—that was, how I should manage in case the rat should return? How was I to destroy—or, at all events, get rid of—this most unwelcome intruder? I would at that moment have given a year of my life for the loan of a steel trap, or any trap that would take rats; but since the loan of a trap was out of the question, I set my brains to work to invent some contrivance that would enable me to rid myself of my unpleasant neighbour: neighbour I might call him, for I knew that his house was not far off—perhaps at that moment he had his den not three feet from my face—likely enough, under the biscuit-box or the cask of brandy.

Cudgel my brains as I might I could hit upon no plan to get hold of him—at least, no plan to trap him with safety. I felt pretty sure I could lay my hands upon him, provided he came near enough, just as I had done already; but I was in no humour to repeat that performance. I knew the crevice by which he had retreated. It was the aperture between the two great barrels—the brandy-cask and the water-butt.

I fancied he would return the same way, if he came back at all; and it occurred to me that if I were to stop up all the other apertures except that one—which I could easily do with pieces of cloth—let him come in, and then suddenly cut off his retreat by caulking that one also, I should have him in the trap. But this would be placing myself in an awkward situation. I should be in the trap as well as he, and he no nearer destruction than ever, unless I finished him by a hand-to-hand tussle. Of course, I knew I could conquer and kill the rat. My superior strength would enable me to squeeze him to death between my hands, but not without getting a good many severe bites, and the one I had got already hindered me from having any relish for another encounter of the kind.

How, then, was I to manage without a trap? That was the thought that occupied me as I lay sleepless and in dread of the rat returning.

But I cogitated to no purpose. It was well-nigh morning, when, worn with watching and planning, I fell off into the half-dozing half-dreaming State—of which I have already spoken—and still no feasible plan had offered itself for entrapping the "vermin" that was causing me so much annoyance and alarm.



CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.

OH! FOR A STEEL TRAP!

After several hours spent in dozing and dreaming by "fits and starts," I was again fairly awake, and could sleep no more for thinking of the great rat. Indeed, the pain I suffered was of itself sufficient to keep me awake; for not only my thumb, but the whole hand was swollen, and ached acutely. I had no remedy but to bear it patiently; and knowing that the inflammation would soon subside and relieve me, I made up my mind to endure it with fortitude. Greater evils absorb the less; and it was so in my case. My dread of the rat paying me another visit was a far greater trouble to me than the pain of my wound, and as my attention was wholly taken up with the former, I almost forgot that my thumb was aching.

As soon as I was well awake, my thoughts returned to the subject of trapping my tormentor. I was quite sure he would return to trouble me, for I already had some indications of his presence. The weather still continued calm, and I could hear any occasional sounds very distinctly. I heard what resembled the pattering of little feet, as of the rat running over the lid of an empty box; and once or twice I clearly distinguished the short, shrill cricket-like "chirp" that rats are wont to utter. I can think of no more disagreeable sound than the voice of a rat, and at that time it sounded doubly disagreeable. You may smile at my simple fears, but I could not help them. I could not help a presentiment that somehow or other my life was in danger from the presence of this rat, and the presentiment was not a vain or idle one, as you shall afterwards learn.

The fear that I had, then, was that the rat would attack me in my sleep. So long as I might be awake, I was not much afraid that it could do me any very great injury. It might bite me, as it had done already, but that signified little. I should be able to destroy it somehow. But supposing I should fall into a deep sleep, and the spiteful creature should then seize me by the throat? Some such idea as this it was that kept me in misery. I could not always keep awake and on the qui vive. The longer I did so, the more deeply would I slumber afterwards, and then would be the time of danger. I could not go to sleep again with any feeling of security until that rat was destroyed; and therefore its destruction was the end I now aimed at.

I remained cogitating as to how I should encompass it; but for the life of me I could think of no other way than to gripe the creature in my hands, and squeeze it to death. If I could have made sure of getting a proper hold of it—that is, with my fingers round its throat, so that it could not turn its teeth upon me—then the thing would be easy enough. But therein lay the difficulty. I should have to seize it in the dark— at random—and likely enough it would prove as quick as myself in getting the advantage of the hold. Moreover, my crippled thumb was in such a condition, that in that hand—my right one, too—I was not sure I could even hold the rat, much less crush the life out of it.

I bethought me of some means of protecting my fingers from its teeth. If I had only been possessed of a pair of strong gloves; but then I was not, and it was no use thinking of them.

Yes, it was of use: it proved so; for thinking of the gloves suggested the idea of a substitute; and this substitute was within my reach—my buskins. By inserting my hands into these, and covering them up to the wrists, I should gain a protection against the sharp teeth of the rat, and could I only get the animal under the soles, I would surely have strength enough to squeeze the breath out of it. A capital idea, and I at once proceeded to carry it into execution.

Placing the buskins in readiness, I crouched near the crevice where the rat should enter. All the others, as already stated, I had carefully plugged up, and I now determined, if the rat came in, to stuff my jacket into the aperture before it could retreat, and thus have it at my mercy. I should then speedily put on my gloves, and pound away till I had finished the business.

It seemed as if the rat had either determined to brave the encounter, or that fortune was against it.

I had scarcely set my house in order to receive my visitor, when the pattering of feet upon the broadcloth, and a little squeak which I heard, told me that the rat had passed through the crevice, and was actually inside the enclosure. I plainly heard it rushing about, as I pushed the jacket into the aperture; and once or twice I felt it coursing across my legs; but I took no heed of its movements until I had made all secure against its retreat. Then I planted my hands firmly in the buskins, and commenced searching for the enemy.

As I was intimately acquainted with the shape of my little chamber, and knew to the breadth of a hair where every corner lay, I was not long in "feeling" it up. My mode of proceeding was to raise the buskins, and plant them down again, each time striking upon new ground. I believed that if I could only get one of them upon a portion of the rat's body, I could hold it, until I might secure a safer hold with both, and then it would only remain to press downward with all my might. This was my programme, but though well enough designed, I was unable to carry it through.

The affair ended in a very different way. I succeeded in planting one of the buskins upon the animal, but from the want of a firm floor underneath, I was not able to hold it, and the soft cloth yielding enabled it to get away. It escaped from my hold with a loud screech, and the next place I felt it was running up the leg of my trousers and inside!

A feeling of horror ran through my veins; but I was now warmed to the encounter; and, throwing aside the buskins, which were no longer of service, I grasped the body of the rat, just as it had reached the height of my knee. I was able to hold it there, although it struggled with a strength that quite astonished me, and its loud squealing was terrible to hear.

I still held on, pressing the body with all my might, and quite insensible to the pain in my thumb. The cloth of my trousers protected my fingers from being bitten, but I did not come off unscathed, for the spiteful creature buried its teeth in my flesh, and kept them there as long as it was able to move. It was only after I had got my thumb round its throat, and fairly choked it to death, that the teeth relaxed their grasp, and I perceived that I had succeeded in putting a period to its existence.

Having released the body from my hold, I shook it out of my trousers quite lifeless and limp; and then, removing my jacket from the aperture, I flung the dead rat out in the direction whence it had come.

I felt greatly relieved; and, confident that I should no longer be troubled by Monsieur Rat, I betook myself to sleep, determined to make up for what I had lost during the night.



CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

A SWARM OF INTRUDERS.

My feeling of security proved to be a false one. I could not have been asleep more than a quarter of an hour, when I was suddenly awakened by something running over my breast. Was it another rat? If not, it certainly was some creature that behaved exactly like one.

I lay for some moments without stirring, and listened attentively; but I could hear nothing. Had I only dreamt that something ran over me? Not so; for just then I thought I could hear the pattering of little feet over the loose cloth. Right; I did hear the sound, and the moment after felt the same feet upon my thigh.

Starting upward, and bringing my hand down upon the spot, I was again horrified by feeling a large rat, that, as soon as I touched it, sprang away, and I could hear it rattling off through the crevice between the casks.

Surely it could not be the same I had just despatched? No, cats do come to life again after being supposed to be dead (sometimes after being buried!) but I never heard of rats possessing this extraordinary power of vitality. I felt satisfied that I had quite killed the rat—in fact, the handling I gave it might have taken nine lives, if it had had that number to spare. It was dead as a nail when I flung it out. It could not be that one.

And yet, absurd as it may seem, I fancied, half asleep as I was, that it was the same rat returning to avenge itself. This fancy, however, forsook me as soon as I was fairly awake, and I knew it could not be the same. Most likely it was its mate, or partner, and a fit partner it was, for I noticed as I passed my fingers over it, that this second one was also a rat of very large size.

No doubt, thought I, this is the female of the one I have killed coming in search of her mate. But she had entered by the same crevice; she must have passed where the dead one lay, and must know what had occurred? Was she going to avenge his death?

Sleep was again banished from my eyes. How could I sleep, with such a hideous animal prowling about, and perhaps with the fixed intention to attack me?

Wearied as I had now grown with watching, I could not go to rest until I should rid myself of this second intruder.

I was under the belief that this one would soon return again. I had not caught hold of it, but merely touched it with my fingers, and as I had offered no particular violence to it, likely enough it would soon venture back.

Under this conviction I placed myself as before, close to the crevice, jacket in hand, and with my ear set close to the aperture, I listened attentively.

In a few minutes I distinctly heard the chirrup of a rat outside, and almost continually the same scratching and pattering I had noticed before.

I think there was some loose board or hollow box by which the sound was produced—for it was very loud to be caused by so small an animal. These noises continued, and I fancied that I also heard the rat passing into my chamber, but still the pattering and scratching were kept up outside, and therefore the animal could not be in.

Once more I was sure I heard it passing me, but at the same time the chirrup fell on my ear, and that certainly came from without. Again and again I fancied I was not the only tenant of the chamber, but I still restrained myself from closing up the crevice, thinking I might be mistaken.

At length, however, a loud squeal was uttered to the right of my position, certainly within the enclosure; and, waiting no longer, I stuffed the jacket into the aperture, and made all tight and sure.

I now turned to feel for the rat, taking the precaution, as before, to insert my hands into the buskins. I had taken still another precaution, and that was to tie the legs of my trousers tight around my ankles, lest this other rat should act as its predecessor had done. Thus prepared, I proceeded to grope around.

I had no liking for the encounter, but I was determined to rid myself of the annoyance which I had been suffering, and get some sleep, without being again disturbed; and I could think of no other way than to kill the rat as I had done its companion.

So to work I again went. Horror of horrors! fancy the terrible fears that ran through me, when, instead of one rat, I discovered that a whole swarm of these hideous brutes was enclosed in my apartment! Not one, but probably half a score of them! The place appeared crowded with them, and I could scarce put down the buskins without touching one. I felt them running all around me, over my legs, the backs of my hands— everywhere—at the same time uttering their fierce cries as if they were menacing me!

It is but truth to say, I was frightened nearly out of my senses. I thought no longer about killing them. For some moments I scarcely knew what I was doing; but I remember that I had the presence of mind to lay hold of my jacket, and pull it out of the aperture. Then swinging it around, I continued to beat the floor in every direction, shouting all the while at the top of my voice.

My shouts and the violence of my actions appeared to produce the desired effect, for I heard the rats retreating through the crevice; and after a time, on venturing to reconnoitre the floor with my naked hands, I found, to my delight, they had taken their departure, one and all of them.



CHAPTER FORTY.

THE NORWAY RAT.

If I was uncomfortable before with the presence of a single rat, how much more uneasy was I with the knowledge that a whole gang of these disgusting animals was in my neighbourhood! There must be a still greater number than those I had just routed; for before closing up the aperture with my jacket, I had still heard others squeaking and scraping on the boards outside. Like enough there were scores of them; for I had heard that in many ships such vermin abound, finding a secure hiding-place in the numerous crevices among the timbers of the hold. I had heard, moreover, that these ship-rats are the fiercest of their kind, and when driven to extremes by hunger—which is not unfrequently the case—will not hesitate to attack living creatures, and show but little fear of either cat or dog. They often commit extensive damage upon articles of the cargo, and are thus a great nuisance in a ship, especially when she has not been properly overhauled and cleaned out before loading for a voyage. These ship-rats are the sort known as "Norway rats," on account of a belief that they were first brought to England in Norwegian ships; but whether they originated in Norway or elsewhere, it matters little, as they are now universally distributed over the whole globe, and I believe there is no part of the earth, where ships have touched, that Norway rats are not found in abundance. If Norway was in reality the country of their origin, then it follows that all climes are alike to them, since they are especially abundant and thriving in the hot tropical climates of America. Seaport towns in the West Indies and the continents of both North and South America are infested with them; and so great a nuisance are they deemed in some of these places, that a "rat-bounty" is usually offered by the municipal authorities for their destruction. Notwithstanding this premium for killing them, they still exist in countless numbers, and the wooden wharves of these American seaports appear to be their true harbours of refuge!

The Norway rats are not individually large rats. Occasionally very large ones are found among them, but these are exceptional cases. They are in general less distinguished for size, than for a fierce and spiteful disposition, combined with a great fecundity, which of course renders them exceedingly numerous and troublesome. It has been observed that wherever they make their appearance, in a few years the rats of all other species disappear; and it is therefore conjectured that the Norway rats destroy the other kinds! Weazels are no match for them—for what they lack in individual strength is amply compensated for by their numbers—and in these hot countries they outnumber their enemies in the proportion of hundreds to one. Even cats are afraid of them; and in many parts of the world the cats will shy away from an encounter with Norway rats, choosing for their prey some victim of a milder disposition. Even large dogs, unless specially set on, will prefer to pass and give them a wide berth.

One fact about the Norway rat is peculiar: it appears to know when it possesses the advantage. Where they are but few and in danger of being destroyed, they are timid enough; but in those countries where they are allowed to increase, they become emboldened by impunity, and are much less awed by the presence of man. In the seaports of some tropical countries they will scarce take the precaution to hide themselves; and on moonlight nights, when they come out in great numbers, they hardly deign to turn aside out of the way of the passenger. They will just creep a little to one side, and then close up behind the heels of any one who may be passing along. Such creatures are the Norway rats.

I was not acquainted with all these facts at the time of my adventure with the rats in the ship Inca; but I knew enough, even then, from sailors' yarns I had heard, to make me very uncomfortable at the presence of so many of these ugly animals; and, after I had succeeded in driving them out of my little chamber, I was far from being easy in my mind. I felt almost certain they would return again, and perhaps in greater force than ever. Perhaps they would become hungered during the voyage, and consequently bolder and fiercer—bold enough to attack me. Even then, I thought that they had appeared by no means afraid of me. Though with my shouts and violent efforts I had forced them out, I could still hear them near at hand, scampering about and squeaking to one another. What if they were already half famished and meditating an attack upon me! From facts that I had heard of, the thing was not very improbable; and I need hardly say that the very suspicion of such a probability made a most painful impression upon me. The thought of being killed and devoured by these horrid creatures, caused within me a feeling of dread far greater than I had felt when I was anticipating death by being drowned. I should have preferred drowning to a death like that; and when for a moment I dwelt upon the probability of such a fate, the blood ran coldly through my veins, and the hair seemed to stiffen upon my scalp.

For some minutes I sat, or rather knelt (for I was upon my knees while striking around me with the jacket), not knowing what course to follow. I still believed that the rats would not have the boldness to approach me, so long as I remained awake and could defend myself. But how would it be were I to go to sleep again? Then, indeed, they might be encouraged to attack me, and once they had got their teeth into my flesh, they might resemble the tiger, who, having tasted blood, is not satisfied till he has destroyed his victim. I dared not go to sleep.

And yet I could not always keep awake. Sleep would in time overpower me, and I should have to yield to it in the end. The longer I struggled against it, the deeper the sleep that would follow; and perhaps I might fall into some profound slumber from which I might never awake—some terrible "nightmare" that would bind me beyond the power of moving, and thus render me an easy prey to the voracious monsters that surrounded me!

For a short while I suffered these painful apprehensions, but soon an idea came into my mind that gave me relief; and that was, to replace my jacket in the crevice through which the rats had entered, and thus shut them out altogether.

It was certainly a very simple way of getting over the difficulty; and, no doubt, it would have occurred to me sooner—that is, when the first and second rats had been troubling me—but then I thought there were but the two, and I might settle with them in a different way. Now, however, the case was different. To destroy all the rats that were in the hold of that ship would be a serious undertaking, if not an impossibility, and I no longer thought of such a thing. The best plan, therefore, would be that which I had now hit upon: to stop up the main aperture, and also every other through which a rat could possibly squeeze his body, and thus be at once secured against either their intrusion or their attacks.

Without further delay, I "plugged" up the crevice with my jacket; and, wondering that I had not thought of this simple plan before, I laid me down—this time with a full confidence that I might sleep undisturbed, as long as I should feel the necessity or inclination.



CHAPTER FORTY ONE.

DREAM AND REALITY.

So wearied had I become with fears and long waking, that my cheek had scarce touched my pillow, before I was off into the land of dreams. And not the land of dreams either, for it was the sea of which I dreamt; and, just as before, that I was at its bottom, and surrounded by horrid crab-like monsters who threatened to eat me up.

Now and then, however, these crab-like creatures assumed the form of rats; and then my dream more resembled reality. I dreamt that they were in vast numbers around me, and menaced me from every side; that I had only my jacket to keep them off, and that I was sweeping it from side to side for that purpose. I thought they grew bolder and bolder as they saw how little damage I was able to do them with such a weapon; and that a very large rat, much bigger than any of the others, was encouraging them on to the attack. This was not a real rat, but the ghost of one— of that one I had killed! He was leading the swarm of my assailants, and counselling them to avenge his murder! Such was the fancy of my dream.

I thought that, for a long time, I was successful in keeping them at bay; but my strength was fast failing me, and unless succour arrived, I would be overpowered. I looked around and called loudly for help, but no one appeared to be near me.

My assailants at length perceived that my strength was gone; and, at a signal given by their ghost leader, made a simultaneous rush upon me. They came from the front, from behind, from both sides, and although I struck around me in a last despairing effort, it was to no purpose. Dozens of them I had flung backward, tumbling upon their backs and over one another, but their places were instantly filled up again by others that came from behind.

I could struggle no longer. Resistance was idle. I felt them crawling up my legs, my thighs, my back. They clung to me all over, their bodies covering mine like a swarm of bees upon a branch; and before they had time to inflict a wound upon my flesh, their very weight caused me to stagger, and fall heavily to the earth!

The fall appeared to save me; for as soon as I touched ground, the rats let go their hold and ran scampering off, as if frightened at the effect they had produced!

I was pleasantly surprised at this denouement, and for some moments was unable to explain it; but my senses soon became clearer; and I was rejoiced to find that the horror I had been experiencing was only the illusion of a dream; and the fall which I had suffered, was the breaking up of the vision that had awakened me!

In the next instant, however, I changed my mind; and my new-sprung joy departed as suddenly as it had arisen. It was not all a dream. Rats had been upon me, and rats were at that moment in my chamber! I heard them scampering about. I heard their ugly screeches; and before I could raise myself, one of them ran over my face!

This was a new source of terror. How had they got in? The very mystery of their being inside was of itself enough to give me a shock. How had they got there? Had they pushed out the jacket? Mechanically, I felt for it. No. It was there in its place, just as I had left it! I drew it out for the purpose of striking around me, to drive the vermin off. I struck with it and shouted as I had done before, and succeeded in clearing them off; but I was now in greater terror than ever, for I could not explain how they were able thus to reach me, notwithstanding all my precautions.

For a time, I was sorely perplexed, but I found the explanation at length. It was not through the crevice, I had stopped with the jacket, they had sought entrance; but by another aperture, which I had caulked with a piece of cloth. The cloth was too small—it had been loose, and the rats had actually torn it out with their teeth!

This accounted for their gaining an entrance; but, at the same time, it by no means removed my alarm. On the contrary, it furnished me cause for increased anxiety. Why were those creatures thus pertinacious, returning again and again? What wanted they in my hiding-place, more than in any other part of the ship? What could they want, but to kill and eat me?

Verily, I could think of no other reason why I was thus assailed.

The fear of such a consequence now aroused all my energies. I had not been asleep more than an hour, as I knew by my watch; but I could not go to sleep again, until I had fully secured myself; and for this purpose, I set about putting my fortress in a more proper state of defence. I removed the former stuffings from the apertures, one by one, and replaced them more firmly. I even went through the labour of taking all the biscuits out of the box, and drawing forth two or three fresh pieces of cloth to help me in my "caulking." I then restored the biscuits to their places, and closed up every aperture that existed. I had the greatest difficulty upon that side where the box stood, for around it there were many ill-shaped crevices; but I got over the difficulty, by means of a large web of cloth, which, when placed upon its end, exactly fitted the open space—through which I had squeezed my own carcass on that occasion, when I was so unfortunate as to set my foot aboard the ship. On this side, the piece of cloth left no more caulking to be done, as it fitted just tight enough to prevent any living creature from passing beside it. The only disadvantage it offered was, that it hindered me from getting conveniently at my store of biscuits, for it covered the opening in the box; but I thought of this before pushing it into its place, and carried a supply of the biscuits inside—enough to last me for a week or two. When these should be eaten, I could remove the web; and, before any rats could come in to trouble me, provide myself for another week.

It occupied me full two hours, in completing all these arrangements, for I worked with great care to make my fortress walls secure. It was no play I was performing. It was a matter that possessed the serious interest of my life's safety.

When I had made all tight to my perfect satisfaction, I lay down to sleep again—this time quite certain that I should get something more than a mere "cat-nap."



CHAPTER FORTY TWO.

A SOUND SLEEP AT LAST.

I was not disappointed. I slept for a period of twelve hours' duration—not without many fearful dreams—terrible encounters with crabs and rats. So far as the comfort of the thing was concerned, I might almost as well have been awake, and actually engaged in such conflicts. My sleep was far from refreshing, notwithstanding its long continuance; but it was pleasant on awaking to find that my unwelcome visitors had not been back again, and that no breach had been made in my defences. I groped all around, and found that everything was just as I had left it.

For several days, I felt comparatively at my ease. I had no longer any apprehension of danger from the rats, though I knew they were still close to me. When the weather was calm (and it continued so for a long while), I could hear the animals outside, busy at whatever they had to do, rattling about among the packages of merchandise, and occasionally uttering spiteful shrieks, as if they were engaged in combats with each other. But their voices no longer terrified me, as I was pretty sure they could not get nearer me. Whenever, for any purpose, I removed one of the cloth pieces with which my little cabin was "chinked," I took good care to return it to its place again, before any of the animals could know that the aperture was open.

I experienced a good deal of discomfort from being thus shut up. The weather was exceedingly warm; and as not a breath of air could reach me, or circulate through the apartment, it felt at times as hot as the inside of a baker's oven. Very likely we were sailing under the line, or, at all events, in some part of the tropical latitudes; and this would account for the calmness of the atmosphere, since, in these latitudes, stormy weather is much more rare than in either of the so-called temperate zones. Once, indeed, during this time, we experienced a very sharp gale, which lasted for a day and night. It was succeeded as usual by a heavy swell, during which the ship tumbled about, as if she would turn bottom upwards.

I was not sea-sick on this occasion; but, as I had nothing to hold on by, I was sadly rolled about in my little cabin, now pitching head foremost against the butt, now falling backward upon the side of the ship, till every bone in my body was as sore as if I had been cudgelled! The rocking of the vessel, too, occasionally caused the boxes and barrels to move a little; and this had the effect of loosening the cloth caulking, and causing it to drop out. Still apprehensive of an inroad from the rats, I was kept busy, all the time the gale lasted, in plugging the crevices afresh.

Upon the whole, I think that this employment was pleasanter than doing nothing. It rather helped me to pass the time; and the two days during which the gale and swell kept me so occupied, seemed shorter than any other two. By far the bitterest hours were those in which I could find nothing at all to do—absolutely nothing to engage my thoughts. Then I would remain for long hours together—sometimes without making a motion, or changing the attitude in which I lay—sometimes without even having a thought; and thus dark, and lonely, and longing, I feared that my reason would forsake me, and that I should go mad!

In this way, two more weeks had passed over, as I knew by the notches on my stick. Otherwise they might have been months—ay, years—so long did the time appear. With the exception of the hours in which we experienced the gale, all the rest was complete monotony; and not one fact or occurrence transpired to make an impression on my memory.

During all this time, I had strictly adhered to my regulations regarding food and drink. Notwithstanding that I often hungered, and could have eaten up a week's allowance at a single meal, I had not exceeded the prescribed ration. Many a time it cost me an effort to deny myself; and often the half biscuit, which was to serve for another meal, was put aside with most tardy reluctance, and seemed to cling to my fingers, as I placed it on the little shelf. But I congratulated myself that up to this time—with the exception of that day upon which I had eaten the four biscuits at a meal—I had been able to keep my resolve, and contend bravely against the craving appetite of hunger.

Thirsty I never was. I had no uneasiness on this score. My ration of water was quite enough for me, and more than enough. On most days I used far short of the allowance, and could drink as much as I wanted.

The supply of biscuits I had brought inside, when shutting myself up against the rats, was at length exhausted. I was glad of this. It proved that time was passing away—two weeks must have elapsed, as I had counted the biscuits at the commencement of this period, and found that they were just the allowance for so long. The time, then, had come round for me to go back to my larder, and procure a fresh supply.

As I proceeded to do so, a singular apprehension arose in my mind. It came suddenly, as if an arrow had been shot into my heart. It was the presentiment, of a great misfortune; or not exactly a presentiment, but a fear caused by something I had noticed only the minute before. I had heard a noise outside, which as usual I attributed to my neighbours the rats. Often, indeed almost continually, similar noises had proceeded from without, but none that impressed me like this, for it appeared to reach me from a new direction—the direction of the biscuit-box.

My fingers trembled as I removed the web; and still more as I thrust my hands into the box. Merciful heavens! the box was empty!

No, not empty. As I plunged my hand deeper, it rested upon something soft and smooth—a rat. The animal sprang suddenly aside as it felt my touch, and I drew back my hand with a like rapid movement. Mechanically I felt in another place, only to touch another rat, and then another, and another! The box appeared half full of them, side by side, as close as they could sit. They leaped about and scattered off in different directions, some even jumping against my breast, as they shot out by the aperture, and others striking the sides of the box, and uttering loud cries.

I succeeded in routing them. But, alas! when they were gone, and I proceeded to examine my store, I found, to my chagrin, that nearly the whole of my biscuits were gone too! All of them that were left were broken to pieces, and nothing remained in the box, but a pile of crumbs covering the bottom, upon which the rats had been feeding at the moment I surprised them.

This was an evil of the grandest magnitude; and I was so overwhelmed upon the discovery of it, that for a time I scarce knew what I was doing.

The consequences were plain enough. My provisions were gone—starvation stared me in the face. Nay, starvation was no longer a matter of doubt. It was now certain. The mumbled crumbs which the hideous robbers had left (and which they would also have eaten up in another hour, had I not surprised them) would not keep the life in me for a week; and what then? ay, what then! Starvation—death by hunger!

There was no alternative. So reasoned I, and how could it be otherwise?

For awhile, I felt reckless and despairing—almost reckless enough to refrain from taking any steps to hinder the rats from returning to the box. It was my belief, that I must in the end succumb to this misfortune—must starve—and it was no use procrastinating my fate. I might as well die at once, as at the end of the week. To live for days, knowing that death was certain, would be a terrible state of endurance— worse than death itself; and here again returned to me those dark suicidal thoughts, that had once before passed through my mind.

They troubled me only for a moment. The remembrance that I had had them before, and that then I had been delivered from them—as it were miraculously—that although I could not see how it was to be found, there might still be a way of escape—the hand of Providence, as it had done already, might still be held over me, and point out that way—these reflections and remembrances came back into my mind, and once more a ray of hope shone upon my future. True, there was no definite hope, but just enough to arouse me to fresh energy, and save me from absolute despair. The presence of the rats, too, had an effect in quickening my actions. I perceived that they were still close at hand, threatening to re-enter the box and finish their work of demolition. In truth, I could now only keep them out by making the most violent demonstrations.

I found that the place where they had got in was not the aperture which I myself used. That was closed up with the web, and they could not pass through there. They had entered on the opposite side, from the box of cloth, into which they had been able to make their way, since I had myself removed one of the boards out of its side. It had all been done recently; or, more likely, to cut through the thick plank had employed them for some time, and so delayed the execution of their design. But for this, they might have reached the inside sooner, and then not a morsel would have been left. No doubt it was for the purpose of getting at the biscuits that they had swarmed once or twice into my chamber—for that gave them free access to the box.

I now deeply regretted my negligence in not securing my store in a safe way. I had already thought of doing so, but I never imagined these creatures could make an entry from behind, and I knew that the web of cloth completely shut them out on the inside.

Alas! it was now too late; regrets were idle; and, following out that instinct which prompts us to preserve life as long as we can, I transferred the fragments from the box to my little shelf inside; and then, making all tight as before, I lay down to reflect upon my situation, rendered gloomier than ever by this unexpected misfortune.



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 not even take stock of the biscuits, or rather the crumbs that were left. I guessed roughly by the size of the little heap that it might sustain life—keeping up the very small ration I had been hitherto using—for about ten days—not more. Ten days, then, or at most a fortnight, had I to live, with the prospect of certain death at the end of that time—and a death that experience told me must be slow and painful. I had already suffered the extreme of hunger, almost to death, and I dreaded to try it again; but there appeared no hope of escaping from such a doom—at least, none appeared at the moment.

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

In time a reaction arrived, and I was better able to reflect on the circumstances 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 a second? If not immediately beside the first, it might be near. As stated already, I believed that in the stowage of a ship, goods of the same kind are not always placed together, but miscellaneously—just as the different packages may fit to the shape of the hold and to each other. I had proof that this was the usual arrangement, since around me, and in juxta-position, were articles of very different kinds— biscuits, broadcloth, brandy, and the butt of water. Although there was no second box of biscuits immediately adjoining the one already emptied, there might be another not far off—perhaps just on the other side of the 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 about reflecting on what course I should take to ascertain whether there was another 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 my reach, and therefore I thought of none. To cut a way with my knife through such packages—boxes, bales, or barrels—as might lie between my chamber and the desired biscuits, was the idea that had entered my mind, and it seemed more feasible and practicable the longer I reflected upon it. Deeds that would appear difficult, if not impossible, under ordinary circumstances, present a different aspect to one whose life is in danger, and who knows it may be saved by accomplishing them. The direst hardships, and severest privations, become light trials when life and death are on the issue.

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

I resolved, therefore, to hew a way with my knife among the packages of merchandise, in hopes of coming to one that contained food. If successful, then I should live; if not, I must die. Another thought had some effect in encouraging me to the attempt. It would be better for me to 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 have been a thousand times more painful than death itself.

Far better to struggle on, nourishing hope with the exertions I should be making for my safety. The very labour itself would help me to pass the 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 that for awhile had forsaken me.

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

I have said that I was upon my knees. I could not have stood erect, had I 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 had some influence. I cannot now remember; but I well remember that before proceeding farther in my design, I offered up a prayer—humble and earnest—to God, who had already, as I firmly believed, stretched forth his hand to succour me. I prayed for guidance, for strength, for success. I need not add that my prayer was heard, else I should not now have been living to record it.

My intention was first to work through the cloth-box, and discover what was behind it. That which had contained the biscuits was now empty, and I could get through it without trouble. It will be remembered that I had already been inside the biscuit-box while searching for another, and also 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 would be necessary to pull out several more pieces, to give me room to work on to the next. My knife, therefore, would not be needed at first starting; and putting it aside, where I could easily lay my hands upon it again, I ducked my head and crawled into the empty box. In another minute I was pulling and tugging away at the stiff rolls of broadcloth— all my strength being exerted, and all my energies employed in detaching them from their places.



CHAPTER FORTY FOUR.

THE CRUMBS SECURED.

This was a work that cost me both time and labour much more than you might imagine. No doubt the cloth had been packed with the idea of economising space, and the pieces were wedged as tightly together as if done by a steam-press. Those opposite the opening I had made, came out easily enough; but with the others I had more trouble. It took all my strength to detach many of them from their places. When a few were removed, the work became easier. There were several rolls larger than the rest. They were larger, because they were of coarser cloth. They were too big to pass through the apertures I had made, either the one in the cloth-case, or that in the side of the biscuit-box. I was puzzled how to deal with them. I could not enlarge the openings without a great deal of labour. On account of the situation of the two boxes, it was not possible to knock off another board. I should have to cut the hole wider with my knife; and this, for the same reason, would have been difficult.

A better plan suggested itself—apparently a better, but which in the end proved a mistake. I managed the matter by cutting off the fastenings of each piece, and, laying hold of the end of the web, unrolled it. I then drew out the loose cloth until the web became small enough to pass through. In this way I succeeded in emptying the case, but the work kept me employed for several hours.

I was delayed, moreover, by a more serious interruption. On returning to my chamber, with the first piece of cloth which I had drawn out of the box, I found, to my consternation, that it was already occupied by other tenants—a score of them: the rats were in possession!

I dropped the piece of cloth; and, dashing into their midst, succeeded in routing them; but, as I had anticipated from their presence, I found that another portion of my wretched store of provisions was eaten or carried off. Not a great deal, however, appeared to have been taken. Fortunately, I had been absent only for a short while. Had I been gone for but another twenty minutes, the robbers would have quite cleared me out, and left me not a crumb to live upon.

The consequence of this would have been fatal; and once more deploring my negligence, I resolved to take better care for the future. I spread out a large piece of the cloth, and depositing the fragments upon it, I wrapped them up into a sort of bag-like bundle, which I tied as firmly as I could with a strip of list torn from the cloth itself. This, I fancied, would keep all safe; and placing it in a corner, I proceeded with my work.

As I passed to and fro upon my hands and knees—now empty-handed, now dragging with me a piece of the cloth—I might have been likened to an ant crawling upon its track, and laying in its stores for the winter; and during many hours I was kept as busy as an ant might be. The weather still continued calm, but the atmosphere appeared hotter than I had yet felt it, and the perspiration ran from every pore of my skin. I was often obliged to use a loose piece of the broadcloth to wipe the drops from my forehead and out of my eyes; and at times it appeared as if the heat would suffocate me. But with such a motive as I had for perseverance, I continued to toil on, without thought of resting for a moment.

All the while I was conscious of the presence of the rats. They appeared to be everywhere around me—in the crevices between the casks and boxes, which they used as so many ways and paths. They met me in my own particular gallery, crossing or running before me, and sometimes I felt them behind me coursing over my legs. Singular enough, I was less afraid of them than formerly. This partially arose from my observance of the fact, that it was the biscuit-box that had brought them in such numbers into my chamber, and not me. At first I was under the impression that they had come there to assail myself, but I now thought differently, and felt less apprehension of their attacking me. I no longer dreaded them while awake; but for all that, I could not have gone to sleep—nor did I intend to do so again—without first securing myself against their attacks.

Another reason there was why I feared them less. My situation had grown more desperate, and the necessity for action so apparent, that all lesser dangers had given way to the greater one that threatened me—the danger of starvation.

Having finished emptying the cloth-case of its contents, I resolved to rest a bit, and refresh myself with a scanty ration of crumbs and a cup of water. During the whole time I was engaged in unpacking I had not left off, even to take a drink, and I was now thirsty enough to drink quarts. As I had no fear that my water supply would run short, I now opened the tap and drank to my satisfaction. I must have lowered the water-line very considerably, before I could drag myself away from the butt. The precious fluid seemed sweeter than honey itself; and after drinking, I felt as though it had re-invigorated me to the tips of my fingers.

I now turned to my stock of food, but another cry of chagrin escaped me as I laid my hands upon the bundle. The rats again! Yes; I found, to my astonishment, that these persevering robbers had been back again, had gnawed a hole through the cloth, and abstracted another portion from my now greatly reduced store! A pound at least of the precious crumbs had been taken, and this must have been done within a few minutes' time; for, only a few minutes before, I had occasion to move the bundle, and I had then observed that there was nothing amiss.

The discovery of this new misfortune caused me fresh misery and vexation. I saw that if I left the biscuit-bag behind me, even for the shortest space of time, I might expect on my return to find every crumb gone out of it.

Already I had lost nearly half of what I had taken from the box, and which I had calculated might keep me alive for a period of ten or twelve days. This calculation included everything, even to the dust, which I had carefully gathered up from the boards; and now, on re-examining what remained, I perceived that there was not enough to sustain me for a week!

This discovery added to the gloom of my situation; but I did not suffer it to bring despair. I resolved to proceed with my design, as if no new misfortune had happened; for the further reduction of my stores rendered both energy and perseverance more necessary than ever.

I could not think of any way of securing my crumbs, except by taking the bag along with me and keeping it by my side. I might have folded more cloth around them, but I was impressed with the belief that these vermin would have gnawed their way to my crumbs had I placed them in a box of iron.

To make safe, therefore, I tied up the hole that had been cut in the cloth; and, dragging the bundle after me, I took it into the cloth-case, determined to defend it against all comers.

Having deposited it between my knees, I once more set to work with my knife to tunnel through the side of the adjacent box.



CHAPTER FORTY FIVE.

ANOTHER BITE.

Before proceeding to use the knife, I had endeavoured to burst one of the boards outward, first by pressing upon it with my hands. Finding I could not move it in this way, I lay down upon my back, and tried it with my heels. I even put on my old buskins in hopes of being able to kick it out; but, after thumping at it for a considerable time, I saw it would not do. It was too securely nailed, and, as I found out afterwards, it was still more strongly secured with strips of iron hooping, which would have resisted a stronger effort than any I could make. My kicks and thumps, therefore, were all given to no purpose; and as soon as I became convinced of this, I went to work with my knife.

I designed cutting across one of the boards near the end—and only at one end, as I could then force the piece out, no matter how securely it might be clasped at the other.

The timber was not very hard, being only common spruce deal, and I could soon have made a cross-cut of the whole piece, even with no better tool than my knife, if I had been in a proper attitude, with the box fairly before me. But instead of that, I was obliged to operate in a constrained position, that was both disadvantageous and fatiguing. Moreover, my hand was still painful from the bite of the rat, the scar not yet being closed up. The troubles I had been enduring had kept my blood in a constant fever, and this I suppose, had prevented the healing of the wound. Unfortunately, it was my right hand that had been bitten; and, being right-handed, I could not manage the knife with my left. I tried it at times, to relieve the other, but could make little progress at left-hand work.

For these reasons, then, I was several hours in cutting across a piece of nine-inch deal of only an inch in thickness; but I got through at last, and then, placing myself once more on my back, and setting my heels to the plank, I had the satisfaction to feel it yielding.

It did not move a great way, and I could perceive that there was something hindering it behind—either another box or a barrel—but this was exactly what I had expected. Only two or three inches of empty space were between the two, and it required a good deal of kicking, and twisting backward and forward, and upward and downward, before I could detach the piece from its fastenings of iron.

Before I had got it quite out of my way, I knew what was behind, for I had passed my fingers through to ascertain. It was another packing-case, and, alas! too similar to the one I was crouching in. The same kind of timber, if my touch was true—and this one of my senses had of late become wonderfully acute.

I felt its outline, as much of it as I could reach: the same size it appeared to be—the same rough, unplaned plank, just like that I had been cutting at—and both, as I now perceived, iron hooped at the ends. Beyond doubt, it was "another of the same."

I came to this conclusion without proceeding further, and it was a conclusion that filled me with chagrin and disappointment. But although I felt too bitterly satisfied that it was another cloth-box, I deemed it worth while to put the matter beyond any doubt. To effect this, I proceeded to take out one of the pieces of the second box, just as I had done with the other—by making a clear cut across—and then prising it out, and drawing it towards me. It cost me even more labour than the first, for I could not get at it so well; besides, I had to widen the aperture in the other, before I could reach the joining between two pieces. The widening was not so difficult, as the soft plank split off readily under the blade of my knife.

I worked cheerlessly at this second box, as I worked without hope. I might have spared myself the pains; for during the operation the blade of my knife frequently came in contact with what was inside, and I knew from the soft dull object which resisted the steel with elastic silence, that I was coming upon cloth. I might have spared myself any further labour, but a kind of involuntary curiosity influenced me to go on—that curiosity which refuses to be satisfied until demonstration is complete and certain; and, thus impelled, I hewed away mechanically, till I had reached the completion of the task.

The result was as I had expected—the contents were cloth!

The knife dropped from my grasp; and, overcome, as much by fatigue as by the faintness produced by disappointment, I fell backward, and lay for some minutes in a state of partial insensibility.

This lethargy of despair continued upon me for some time—I noted not how long; but I was at length aroused from it by an acute pain, which I felt in the tip of my middle finger. It was sudden as acute, and resembled the pricking of a needle, or a sharp cut with the blade of a knife.

I started suddenly up, thinking I had caught hold of my knife—while half conscious of what I was doing—for I remembered that I had thrown it with open blade beside me.

In a second or two, however, I was convinced that it was not that which had caused me the pain. It was not a wound made with cold steel, but with the venomous tooth of a living creature. I had been bitten by a rat!

My lethargic indifference to my situation soon passed away, and was succeeded by a keen sense of fear. I was now convinced, more than ever, that my life was in danger from these hideous animals; for this was the first actual attempt they had made upon my person without provocation. Although my sudden movement, and the loud cries I involuntarily uttered, had once more driven them off, I felt satisfied they would become bolder anon, and take no heed of such idle demonstrations. I had threatened them too often, without making them feel my power to punish them.

Clearly it would not do to go to sleep again, with my person exposed to their attacks; for although my hopes of ultimate deliverance were now sadly diminished, and in all likelihood starvation was to be my fate, still this kind of death was preferable to being eaten up by rats. The very thought of such a fate filled me with horror, and determined me to do all in my power to save myself from so fearful a doom.

I was now very tired, and required rest. The box was large enough for me to have slept within it, stretched at full length; but I thought I could more easily defend myself against the encroachments of the rats in my old quarters; and, taking up my knife and bundle, I crawled back behind the butt.

My little chamber was now of much smaller dimensions, for in it I had stowed the cloth taken from the box. In fact, there was just room enough for my body and the bag of crumbs—so that it was more like a nest than an apartment.

With the pieces of cloth piled in one end against the brandy-cask, I was well defended in that quarter, and it only remained to close up the other end as I had done before. This I accomplished; and then, after eating my slender supper, and washing it down with copious libations, I sought the repose, both of body and mind, of which I stood in such need.



CHAPTER FORTY SIX.

THE BALE OF LINEN.

My sleep was neither very sweet nor very sound. In addition to my gloomy prospects, I was rendered uncomfortable by the hot atmosphere, now closer than ever, in consequence of the stoppage of every aperture. No current of air, that might otherwise have cooled me, was permitted to reach my prison, and I might almost as well have been inside a heated oven. I got a little sleep, however, and with that little I was under the necessity of being satisfied.

When fairly awake again, I treated myself to a meal, which might be called my breakfast; but it was certainly the lightest of all breakfasts, and did not deserve the name. Of water I again drank freely, for I was thirsty with the fever that was in my blood, and my head ached as if it would split open.

All this did not deter me from returning to my work. If two boxes contained broadcloth, it did not follow that all the cargo was of this sort of merchandise, and I resolved to persevere. I had made up my mind to try in a new direction—that is, to tunnel through the end of the packing-case as I had done through its side—the end which was turned towards the outside—for I knew that the other rested against the side of the ship, and it would be no use searching in that direction.

Taking my bread-bag with me as before, I went to work with renewed hope, and after long and severe labour—severe on account of the crouching attitude I had to keep, as also from the pain caused by my wounded thumb—I succeeded in detaching one of the end pieces from its place.

Something soft lay beyond. There was encouragement even in this. At all events, it was not another case of broadcloth; but what it was, I could not guess until I had laid bare the full breadth of the board. Then my hands were eagerly passed through the aperture, and with trembling fingers I examined this new object of interest. Coarse canvas it appeared to the touch; but that was only the covering. What was there inside?

Until I had taken up my knife again, and cut off a portion of the canvas, I knew not what it was; but then, to my bitter disappointment, the real nature of the package was revealed.

It proved to be linen—a bale of fine linen, packed in pieces, just as the cloth had been; but so tight that if I had used all my strength I could not have detached one piece from the bale.

The discovery of what it was, caused me greater chagrin than if it had proved to be broadcloth. This I could take out with less difficulty, and make way to try farther on; but with the linen I could do nothing, for, after several attempts, I was unable to move any of the pieces, and as to cutting a way through them, a wall of adamant would scarce have been more impervious to the blade of my knife. It would have been the work of a week at least. My provision would not keep me alive till I had reached the other side. But I did not speculate on such a performance. It was too manifestly impossible, and I turned away from it without giving it another thought.

For a little while I remained inactive, considering what should be my next movement. I did not rest long. Time was too precious to be wasted in mere reflection. Action alone could save me; and, spurred on by this thought, I was soon at work again.

My new design was simply to clear out the cloth from the second box, cut through its farther side, and find out what lay in that direction.

As I had already made a way into the box, the first thing was to remove the cloth. For the time my knife was laid aside, and I commenced pulling out the pieces. It was no light labour, getting out the first three or four. Unfortunately, the ends of the webs were towards me, and this rendered it more difficult to separate them; but I continued to tug and pull until I had extracted a few; and then the work became easier.

Just as in the other case, I found large coarse pieces that would not pass through the aperture I had made; and not liking to take the pains to make a wider opening in the wood, I adopted the same plan I had tried before; that is, to cut the cloth loose from its fastenings, unroll it, and draw it out by the yard.

This was easier, I thought; but, alas! it proved the source of a new and unexpected dilemma, as I had occasion soon after to perceive.

I was getting on well enough, and had succeeded in clearing out a space almost large enough to work in, when I was suddenly brought to a stop, by finding that I had no room for any more cloth behind me! The whole of the open space—including my little apartment, the biscuit-box, and the other case—was quite full, for I had filled each in succession as I went along. There was not a foot of space left—not so much as would hold another web!

This discovery did not create an immediate alarm; for I did not at first perceive the full consequence of it. It was only after a little reflection, that I recognised the difficulty; and then I saw that it was indeed a difficulty—a very dangerous dilemma.

It was plain that I could proceed no farther in my work without clearing off the "back-water" that I had so thoughtlessly accumulated; and how was this to be done? I could not destroy the cloth by burning, nor in any other way that I could think of. I could not lessen its bulk, for I had already pressed it together as closely as I had strength. How, then, was it to be disposed of?

I now perceived the imprudence I had committed in unrolling the webs. This was the cause of its having increased so in bulk though not altogether, for the very taking out of the pieces—on account of the tight pressure they had originally undergone while being packed in the cases—of itself greatly enlarged their mass. To restore them to the state in which I had found them, was no longer possible. They were littered through and through in the most complete confusion, and I had no room to work in, even to refold them again, since I could scarce move about in the constrained quarters and attitude I was compelled to assume. Even had I had ample space to work in, I could not easily have got the stuff back to a suitable bulk; for the coarser material, elastic as it was, would have required a screw-press to bring it to its former size. I felt quite disheartened as I thought the thing over—more than disheartened, again almost despairing.

But, no! it had not yet reached the point of despair with me. By getting enough space for another piece or two, I should have room to cut a hole through the opposite side of the box, and there was still hope beyond. If, indeed, another case of broadcloth, or another bale of linen, should be found there, it would then be time to yield myself up to despair.

But hope in the human breast is hard to destroy, and it was so in mine. So long as there is life, thought I, let there be hope; and, inspired with the old proverb, I renewed my exertions.

After awhile, I succeeded in stowing away two more pieces; and this gave me just room to creep inside the now nearly empty box, and go to work again with my knife.

This time I had to cut the board across the middle, as the cloth on both sides would not permit me to get at either end. It made little difference, however; and when I had finished carving at the wood, I was able to push out both sections, and make an aperture sufficient for my purpose. I say sufficient for my purpose, for it only needed a hole large enough to admit my hand; and, once protruding my fingers, I was satisfied, as before, with a most melancholy result. Another bale of linen!

Fatigued and faint, I could have fallen, had it been possible to fall lower; but I was already upon my face, alike prostrate in body and soul!



CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN.

EXCELSIOR!

It was some time before I recovered strength or spirit to arouse myself. But for hunger, I might have remained longer in the sort of torpid lethargy into which I had fallen; but nature craved loudly for sustenance. I could have eaten my crumbs where I lay, and would have done so, but that thirst carried me back to my old quarters. It made little difference where I slept, as I could have fenced myself against the rats within either of the boxes; but it was necessary to be near the water-butt, and this alone influenced me in the choice of my sleeping-place.

It was not such an easy matter getting back to my former position. Many pieces of cloth had to be lifted out of the way and drawn behind me. They had to be placed carefully, else on reaching the entrance to my chamber, I should not be able to clear a space large enough to contain my body.

I succeeded, however, in effecting my purpose; and having eaten my morsel, and quenched my feverish thirst, I fell back upon the mass of cloth, and was asleep in the twinkling of an eye.

I had taken the usual precaution to close the gates of my fortress, and this time I slept my sleep out, undisturbed by the rats.

In the morning—or rather, I should say, in the hour of my awaking—I again ate and drank. I know not whether it was morning; for, in consequence of my watch having once or twice run down, I could no longer tell night from day; and my sleep, now not regular as formerly, failed to inform me of the hours. What I ate failed to satisfy hunger. All the food that was left me would not have sufficed for that; and not the least difficult part I had to perform, was the restraining myself from eating out my whole stock at a meal. I could easily have done it, and it required all my resolution to refrain. But my resolution was backed by the too certain knowledge that such a meal would be my last, and my abstinence was strengthened simply by the fear of starvation.

Having breakfasted, then, as sparingly as possible, and filled my stomach with water instead of food, I once more worked my way into the second cloth-box, determined to continue my search as long as strength was left me. There was not much left now. I knew that what I ate was barely sufficient to sustain life, and I felt that I was fast wasting away. My ribs projected like those of a skeleton, and it was as much as I could do to move the heavier pieces of the cloth.

One end of all the boxes, as already stated, was placed against the side of the ship. Of course, it was of no use tunnelling in that direction; but the end of the second case, which faced inwards, I had not yet tried. This was now my task.

I need not detail the particulars of the work. It resembled that I had executed already, and lasted for several successive hours. The result was, once again, a painful disappointment. Another bale of linen! I could go no farther in that direction. And now no farther in any direction!

Boxes of broadcloth and bales of linen were all around me. I could not penetrate beyond. I could not make a way through them. There was no room for further progress.

This was the melancholy conclusion at which I had arrived, and I was once more thrown back into my despairing mood.

Fortunately, this did not last long, for shortly after a train of thought came into my mind that prompted me to further action. It was memory that came to my aid. I remembered having read a book, which described very beautifully the struggles of a boy, amidst great difficulties—how he bravely refused to yield to each new disappointment; but, by dint of courage and perseverance, overcame every obstacle, and at last obtained success. I remembered, too, that this boy had adopted for his motto, the Latin word "Excelsior," which was explained to mean "higher" or "upward."

On reflecting upon the struggles which this boy had undergone, and how he had succeeded in surmounting so many difficulties—some even as great as those that surrounded myself—I was nerved to make a new effort.

But I believe it was this peculiar word, "Excelsior," that guided me in my after proceedings, for by its most literal sense was I directed. Upward, thought I; I might search upward. Why did it not occur to me before? There might be food in this direction, as likely as in any other, and certainly I had no choice, as every other direction had been tried. I resolved, then, to search upward.

In another minute I was upon my back, knife in hand. I propped myself with pieces of cloth, so that I might work more conveniently, and after groping out one of the divisions of the lid, I commenced notching it crossways.

The board at length gave way to my exertions. I dragged it downwards. Oh, heavens! were my hopes again destined to suffer defeat and mockery?

Alas! it was even so. The coarse, hard-grained canvas, with the dull sodden mass behind it, answered me with a sad affirmative.

There yet remained the upper side of the other case, and then that of the biscuit-box. Both should be tried as a last effort, and that before I could again sleep.

And both were tried, with like evil fortune. Upon the former rested a case of the cloth, while another bale of linen completely covered the top of the latter.

"Merciful God! am I forsaken?"

Such was my exclamation as I sank back into an attitude of complete exhaustion.



CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT.

A TORRENT OF BRANDY.

Sleep followed, brought on by weariness and long exertion; and when I awoke, I felt my strength greatly restored. Singular enough, my spirits were a good deal lighter, and I was far less despairing than I had been before. It seemed as if some supernatural influence sustained me— perhaps an inspiration given by the great Creator himself, to enable me to persevere. Notwithstanding that my disappointments had been many and oft-repeated, I bore up under the infliction as meekly as I could, and never yet had I felt in my heart a rebellious feeling against God.

I still continued to offer up prayers for my success, and to place reliance upon the hope that His mercy would yet be extended to me. This feeling it was—I am sure it was—that upheld me, and kept me from falling into utter despondency.

On awaking again, as I have said, my spirits felt lighter, though I know not why, unless it was that I was cheered by some influence from above. I can only account for it in this way, since there was no change in the circumstances that surrounded me—at least none for the better—nor had I conceived any new hope or plan.

It was certain that I could penetrate no further through the boxes of cloth and bales of linen, as I had no place to stow their contents behind me. That side, therefore, was now no longer the object of my attention.

There were still two other directions in which I might search—the one directly in front, and that toward the left, which last I knew to be in the direction of the bows of the ship.

In front, the space was taken up by the great water-butt, and of course I did not think of cutting a way through this. It would lead to the loss of my supply of water. I did for a moment imagine that I might make a hole high up above the water-line, through which I might squeeze my body, and then get through to the opposite side by making a second hole. I knew that the butt was now scarce half full, as the heat had kept me almost continually athirst, and, confident in my supply, I had drunk large quantities. But it occurred to me that if I made this great opening, I might lose all my water in a single night. A sudden squall might arise—for several had been encountered already—and set the ship a-rolling. In that case, if the vessel, crank as she was, came near getting upon her beam-ends, which she often did, my butt would be turned half over, and the water of course would all escape—the precious water that had hitherto stood my friend, and but for which I should have long ago miserably perished.

Another consideration influenced me not to touch the butt: there was an easier direction to proceed in, and that was through the brandy-cask.

This stood end towards me, and, as already stated, shut me in upon the left. Its head or bottom—I could not say which—lay quite up against the end of the water-butt; but for some reason it had been cleated closer up to the side timbers of the ship, so that there was hardly any vacant space behind it. For this reason, nearly one half of its diameter overlapped the end of the water-butt—the other half completing the enclosure of my cabin.

Through this last half I resolved to cut my way, and then, creeping inside the cask, to make another hole that would let me through its opposite side.