The Survivors of the Chancellor: Chapter 46
Chapter 46
CHAPTER XLVI.
JANUARY 17th.--As a natural consequence of the alleviation of our
thirst, the pangs of hunger returned more violently than ever.
Although we had no bait, and even if we had we could not use it
for want of a whirl, we could not help asking whether no possible
means could be devised for securing one out of the many sharks
that were still perpetually swarming about the raft. Armed with
knives, like the Indians in the pearl fisheries, was it not
practicable to attack the monsters in their own element? Curtis
expressed his willingness personally to make the attempt, but so
numerous were the sharks that we would not for one moment hear of
his risking his life in a venture of which the danger was as
great as the success was doubtful.
By plunging into the sea, or by gnawing at a piece of metal, we
could always, or at least often, do something that cheated us
into believing that we were mitigating the pains of thirst; but
with hunger it was different. The prospect, too, of rain seemed
hopeful, whilst for getting food there appeared no chance; and,
as we knew that nothing could compensate for the lack of
nutritive matter, we were soon all cast down again. Shocking to
confess, it would be untrue to deny that we surveyed each other
with the eye of an eager longing; and I need hardly explain to
what a degree of savageness the one idea that haunted us had
reduced our feelings.
Ever since the storm-cloud brought us the too transient shower
the sky has been tolerably clear, and although at that time the
wind had slightly freshened, it has since dropped, and the sail
hangs idly against our mast. Except for the trifling relief it
brings by modifying the temperature we care little now for any
breeze. Ignorant as we are as to what quarter of the Atlantic we
have been carried by the currents, it matters very little to us
from what direction the wind may blow if only it would bring, in
rain or dew, the moisture of which we are so dreadfully in need.
The moon was entering her last quarter, so that it was dark till
nearly midnight, and the stars were misty, not glowing with that
lustre which is so often characteristic of cool nights. Half
frantic with that sense of hunger which invariably returns with
redoubled vigour at the close of every day, I threw myself, in a
kind of frenzy, upon a bundle of sails that was lying on the
starboard of the raft, and leaning over, I tried to get some
measure of relief by inhaling the moist coolness that rarely
fails to circulate just above the water. My brain was haunted by
the most horrible nightmares; not that I suppose I was in any way
more distressed than my companions, who were lying in their usual
places, vainly endeavouring to forget their sufferings in sleep.
After a time I fell into a restless, dreamy doze. I was neither
asleep nor awake. How long I remained in that state of stupor I
could hardly say, but at length a strange sensation half brought
me to myself. Was I dreaming, or was there not really some
unaccustomed odour floating in the air? My nostrils became
distended, and I could scarcely suppress a cry of astonishment;
but some instinct kept me quiet, and I laid myself down again
with the puzzled sensation sometimes experienced when we have
forgotten a word or name. Only a few minutes, however, had
elapsed before another still more savoury puff induced me to take
several long inhalations. Suddenly, the truth seemed to dash
across my mind. "Surely," I muttered to myself "this must be
cooked meat that I can smell."
Again and again I sniffed and became more convinced than ever
that my senses were not deceiving me. But from what part of the
raft could the smell proceed? I rose to my knees, and having
satisfied myself that the odour came from the front, I crept
stealthily as a cat under the sails and between the spars in that
direction. Following the promptings of my scent, rather than my
vision, like a bloodhound in the track of his prey, I searched
everywhere I could, now finding, now losing, the smell according
to my change of position, or the dropping of the wind. At length
I got the true scent; once for all, so that I could go straight
to the object for which I was in search.
Approaching the starboard angle of the raft, I came to the
conclusion that the smell that had thus keenly excited my
cravings was the smell of smoked bacon; the membranes of my
tongue almost bristled with the intenseness of my longing.
Crawling along a little farther, under a thick roll of sail-
cloth, I was not long in securing my prize. Forcing my arm below
the roll, I felt my hand in contact with something wrapped up in
paper. I clutched it up, and carried it off to a place where I
could examine it by the help of the light of the moon that had
now made its appearance above the horizon. I almost shrieked for
joy. It was a piece of bacon. True, it did not weigh many
ounces, but small as it was it would suffice to alleviate the
pangs of hunger for one day at least. I was just on the point of
raising it to my mouth, when a hand was laid upon my arm. It was
only by a most determined effort that I kept myself from
screaming out one instant more, and I found myself face to face
with Hobart.
In a moment I understood all. Plainly this rascal Hobart had
saved some provision from the wreck, upon which he had been
subsisting ever since. The steward had provided for himself,
whilst all around him were dying of starvation. Detestable
wretch! This accounts for the inconsistency of his well-to-do
looks and his pitiable groans. Vile hypocrite!
Yet why, it struck me, should I complain? Was not I reaping the
benefit of that secret store that he, for himself, had saved?
But Hobart had no idea of allowing me the peaceable possession of
what he held to be his own. He made a dash at the fragment of
bacon, and seemed determined to wrest it from my grasp. We
struggled with each other, but although our wrestling was very
violent, it was very noiseless. We were both of us aware that it
was absolutely necessary that not one of those on board should
know anything at all about the prize for which we were
contending. Nor was my own determination lessened by hearing him
groan out that it was his last, his only morsel. "His!" I
thought; "it shall be mine now!"
And still careful that no noise of commotion should arise, I
threw him on his back, and grasping his throat so that it gurgled
again, I held him down until, in rapid mouthfuls, I had swallowed
up the last scrap of the food for which we had fought so hard.
I released my prisoner, and quietly crept back to my own
quarters.
And not a soul is aware that I have broken my fast!
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