The Survivors of the Chancellor: Chapter 42

Chapter 42

CHAPTER XLII.

JANUARY 9th and 10th.--On the 9th the wind dropped, and there was
a dead calm; not a ripple disturbed the surface of the long
undulations as they rose and fell beneath us; and if it were not
for the slight current which is carrying us we know not whither,
the raft would be absolutely stationary.

The heat was intolerable; our thirst more intolerable still; and
now it was that for the first time I fully realized how the
insufficiency of drink could cause torture more unendurable than
the pangs of hunger.  Mouth, throat, pharynx, all alike were
parched and dry, every gland becoming hard as horn under the
action of the hot air we breathed.  At my urgent solicitation the
captain was for once induced to double our allowance of water;
and this relaxation of the ordinary rule enabled us to attempt to
slake our thirst four times in the day, instead of only twice.  I
use the word "attempt" advisedly; for the water at the bottom of
the barrel, though kept covered by a sail, became so warm that it
was perfectly flat and unrefreshing.

It was a most trying day, and the sailors relapsed into a
condition of deep despondency.  The moon was nearly full, but
when she rose the breeze did not return.  Continuance of high
temperature in daytime is a sure proof that we have been carried
far to the south, and here, on this illimitable ocean, we have
long ceased even to look for land; it might almost seem as though
this globe of ours had veritably become a liquid sphere!

To-day we are still becalmed, and the temperature is as high as
ever.  The air is heated like a furnace, and the sun scorches
like fire.  The torments of famine are all forgotten:  our
thoughts are concentrated with fevered expectation upon the
longed-for moment when Curtis shall dole out the scanty measure
of lukewarm water that makes up our ration.  O for one good
draught, even if it should exhaust the whole supply!  At least,
it seems as if we then could die in peace!

About noon we were startled by sharp cries of agony, and looking
round I saw Owen writhing in the most horrible convulsions.  I
went towards him, for, detestable as his conduct had been, common
humanity prompted me to see whether I could afford him any
relief.  But before I reached him, a shout from Flaypole arrested
my attention.

The man was up in the mast, and with great excitement pointing to
the east.

"A ship!  A ship!"  he cried.

In an instant all were on their feet.  Even Owen stopped his
cries and stood erect.  It was quite true that in the direction
indicated by Flaypole there was a white speck visible upon the
horizon.  But did it move?  Would the sailors with their keen
vision pronounce it to be a sail?  A silence the most profound
fell upon us all.  I glanced at Curtis as he stood with folded
arms intently gazing at the distant point.  His brow was
furrowed, and he contracted every feature, as with half-closed
eyes, he concentrated his power of vision upon that one faint
spot in the far-off horizon.

But at length he dropped his arms and shook his head.  I looked
again, but the spot was no longer there.  If it were a ship, that
ship had disappeared; but probably it had been a mere reflection,
or, more likely still, only the crest of some curling wave.

A deep dejection followed this phantom ray of hope.  All returned
to their accustomed places.  Curtis alone remained motionless,
but his eye no longer scanned the distant view.

Owen now began to shriek more wildly than ever.  He presented
truly a most melancholy sight; he writhed with the most hideous
contortions, and had all the appearance of suffering from
tetanus.  His throat was contracted by repeated spasms, his
tongue was parched, his body swollen, and his pulse, though
feeble, was rapid and irregular.  The poor wretch's symptoms were
precisely such as to lead us to suspect that he had taken some
corrosive poison.  Of course it was quite out of our power to
administer any antidote; all that we could devise was to make him
swallow something that might act as an emetic.  I asked Curtis
for a little of the lukewarm water.  As the contents of the
broken barrel were now exhausted, the captain, in order to comply
with my request, was about to tap the other barrel, when Owen
started suddenly to his knees, and with a wild, unearthly shriek,
exclaimed,--

"No!  no!  no!  of that water I will not touch a drop."

I supposed he did not understand what we were going to do, and
endeavoured to explain; but all in vain; he persisted in refusing
to taste the water in the second barrel.  I then tried to induce
vomiting by tickling his uvula, and he brought off some bluish
secretion from his stomach, the character of which confirmed our
previous suspicions--that he had been poisoned by oxide of
copper.  We now felt convinced that any efforts on our part to
save him would be of no avail.  The vomiting, however, had for
the time relieved him, and he was able to speak.

Curtis and I both implored him to let us know what he had taken
to bring about consequences so serious.  His reply fell upon us
as a startling blow.

The ill fated wretch had stolen several pints of water from the
barrel that had been untouched, and that water had poisoned him!

Back to chapter list of: The Survivors of the Chancellor