The Survivors of the Chancellor: Chapter 40
Chapter 40
CHAPTER XL.
JANUARY 7th.--During the last few days since the wind has
freshened, the salt water constantly dashing over the raft has
terribly punished the feet and legs of some of the sailors.
Owen, whom the boatswain ever since the revolt kept bound to the
mast, is in a deplorable state, and at our request has been
released from his restraint. Sandon and Burke are also suffering
from the severe smarting caused in this way, and it is only owing
to our more sheltered position on the aft-part of the raft, that
we have not; all shared the same inconvenience.
Today the boatswain, maddened by starvation, laid hands upon
everything that met his voracious eyes, and I could hear the
grating of his teeth as he gnawed at fragments of sails and bits
of wood, instinctively endeavouring to fill his stomach by
putting the mucus' into circulation at length, by dint of an
eager search, he came upon a piece of leather hanging to one of
the spars that supported the platform. He snatched it off and
devoured it greedily, and as it was animal matter, it really
seemed as though the absorption of the substance afforded him
some temporary relief. Instantly we all followed his example; a
leather hat, the rims of caps, in short, anything that contained
any animal matter at all, were gnawed and sucked with the utmost
avidity. Never shall I forget the scene. We were no longer
human, the impulses and instincts of brute beasts seemed to
actuate our every movement.
For a moment the pangs of hunger were somewhat allayed; but some
of us revolted against the loathsome food, and were seized either
with violent nausea or absolute sickness. I must be pardoned for
giving these distressing details, but how otherwise can I depict
the misery, moral and physical, which we are enduring? And with
it all, I dare not venture to hope that we have reached the
climax of our sufferings.
The conduct of Hobart during the scene that I have just described
has only served to confirm my previous suspicions of him. He
took no part in the almost fiendish energy with which we gnawed
at our scraps of leather, and although by his conduct and
perpetual groanings, he might be considered to be dying of
inanition, yet to me he has the appearance of being singularly
exempt from the tortures which we are all enduring. But whether
the hypocrite is being sustained, by some secret store of food, I
have been unable to discover.
Whenever the breeze drops the heat is overpowering; but although
our allowance of water is very meagre, at present the pangs of
hunger far exceed the pain of thirst. It has often been remarked
that extreme thirst is far less endurable than extreme hunger.
Is it possible that still greater agonies are in store for us? I
cannot, dare not, believe it. Fortunately, the broken barrel
still contains a few pints of water, and the other one has not
yet been opened. But I am glad to say that notwithstanding our
diminished numbers, and in spite of some opposition, the captain
has thought right to reduce the daily allowance to half a pint
for each person. As for the brandy, of which there is only a
quart now left, it has been stowed away safely in the stern of
the raft.
This evening has ended the sufferings of another of our
companions, making our number now only fourteen. My attentions
and Miss Herbey's nursing could do nothing for Lieutenant Walter,
and about half-past seven he expired in my arms.
Before he died, in a few broken words he thanked Miss Herbey and
myself for the kindness we had shown him. A crumpled letter fell
from his hand, and in a voice that was scarcely audible from
weakness, he said,--
"It is my mother's letter: the last I had from her--she was
expecting me home; but she will never see me more. Oh, put it to
my lips--let me kiss it before I die. Mother! mother! Oh my
God!"
I placed the letter in his cold hand, and raised it to his lips;
his eye lighted for a moment; we heard the faint sound of a kiss,
and all was over!
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