Chapter 13

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_ CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Still in the hold--Dreamland again--Chicken-pie--Return of the rats--I improve my plans for catching them--Two rats at one meal--My state of mind--"Mercy! Mercy!"--While there's life there's hope--I recommence my exertions to get out of the hold with some success--Purer air--My weakness returns--I recover my strength--Still no outlet--I perform my ablutions--My desire to live at all hazards returns--"Where ignorance is bliss 'tis folly to be wise"--The yarn of Toney Lawson--The evil effects of getting drunk--The "Viper"--Toney obliged to give in-- Toney's thoughts of escape--The fate of the "Viper" determines the question--Toney's wonderful escape.

Perhaps one of the most painful circumstances connected with my imprisonment was the impossibility of calculating how the time went by.

I remember that I suddenly awoke after dreaming that I was at a jolly picnic with old friends near Roger Riddle's cottage. That the cloth was spread with pies and tarts, a cold sirloin of beef, a dish of fowls, and a tempting ham, and that we were eating and drinking, and laughing and singing, in the merriest way possible. I had just had the breast and wing of a chicken and a slice of ham placed on my plate, and was running over to get the mustard-pot, when to my surprise it became covered with feathers, and off it flew. I was jumping up to catch hold of it, not wishing thus to lose my dinner, but instead found myself in total darkness, and gradually came to the disagreeable consciousness that I was in the hold of the "Emu," and that I had only a few small biscuits and three olives remaining of my stock of provisions, independent of the pickles in the corner of my handkerchief.

The ship, however, was perfectly quiet. The gale must have ceased some time before, to allow the sea to go down. By putting my ears to the planks I could catch the sound of a gentle ripple as she glided along, but no other noise was to be heard. The bulkheads had ceased to creak, the masts to complain, the cargo to crash, and all was perfectly quiet overhead.

My hunger showed me that I must have been a long time asleep, and I could not resist the temptation of eating the remainder of my biscuits and olives. I had thus only the pickles to exist on, unless I could catch some rats with which to eat them. I took a draught of water, and then sat down to consider the plans I had before thought of to trap my game.

One occurred to me as the most feasible. Though I could not see I could feel, and my idea was to form a bag with a piece of the canvas, and give it a small mouth so contrived that I could close it suddenly with a string. Among the articles in my pocket was a stock of string of various thicknesses; I found on measuring it that I had not only sufficient to make the bag, but enough to gather in the mouth with an additional piece to hold in my hand. My gimlet would serve as an awl or sailmaker's needle, though not an efficient substitute. I had been so long accustomed to the darkness that I fancied I could pass the string through the holes I had made without difficulty. My hunger was an incentive to perseverance.

With my knife I first of all cut a piece off my canvas of sufficient size for my purpose. I am sure that I could not have done it so well at any time before, had I attempted to perform the operation in the dark. I then turned in the edges, and passing the string through the holes I had made, united the two sides. Sometimes I could not get the string through without another boring, at others I succeeded at the first attempt, tying the string at each stitch. It was a slow operation, but the result was beyond my most sanguine expectations.

I had a long, thickish piece of hard twine, which I devoted to the mouth of the bag. I had to make the holes for these with great regularity, so as not to leave an opening large enough for a rat to jump out at. I worked on without stopping till my task was accomplished, as I was anxious to ascertain whether it would answer the object I had in view.

While I was working I heard the rats running about, and two or three knocked their noses against my feet, showing that they had again come out of their holes, and were either hunting for food or gambolling for their pleasure.

I had, however, retained a small piece of biscuit in my pocket, which, although I longed to eat it up, I had sufficient resolution to devote as a bait to the rats.

Placing myself near the shattered butt, which seemed to be the spot most numerously frequented by them, I put down the bag with my foot at one end of it, holding the string in my hands, and leaving only a very small opening, which I could close of a sudden.

I waited eagerly. Rats ran about near my feet, leapt over the bag, and skipped and frolicked, uttering squeaks of delight. Still none came actually into the bag. At last one more curious than his fellows poked his nose into the opening. I felt him running along inside, having discovered a biscuit within. With a sudden jerk I quickly closed the mouth of the bag. I felt about with my fingers, and soon came upon Master Rat inside. As I didn't wish to give him the opportunity of biting me, I grasped him tightly by the neck, and squeezed out his life.

After drawing him out, I again put down the bag to tempt some more of his kindred, while I held him up by the tail. In a few minutes I felt others approaching, curious to explore the interior of the bag. I again gave a sudden jerk, and found that I had caught no less than three, who, as they felt themselves drawn up, began fighting and biting at each other, and would, I believe, had I not speedily put them out of existence, have been like the Kilkenny cats, and left only their tails behind them.

I had now ample food, though not of the character most people would have desired, and had also a bag to keep it in. I soon disposed of the first rat, with which I ate some small pieces of pickle as a relish, and I must confess that I enjoyed my meal amazingly. To me it appeared of a peculiarly delicate character. I could have eaten another rat with perfect satisfaction, but I considered it prudent to wait, so as not to give myself a surfeit.

Before long, however, I was again hungry, and on this occasion I ate two rats with some small pieces of pickle and drank a pint or more of water.

I now felt sufficiently strong to recommence my attempt at escape. I was prepared for difficulties of all sorts, as I knew that the cargo had been much displaced during the storm. I have so often described my journeys to and fro, that I am afraid of becoming wearisome, but I must mention what now took place.

As I made my way along I tumbled over several things which had not been there before, and had evidently been thrown out of their places by a violent jerk of the ship. At last I got to the bulkhead through which with such infinite pains I had previously made my way. What was my dismay to find it stopped! Human hands could certainly not have put the obstacles there that I found. As I was feeling about I discovered a huge case of some sort which had been thrown down from above, and stopped up the way. It was not likely that my strength would be able to remove it.

After feeling about to ascertain if there was any opening at the side or top through which I might squeeze myself, and finding none, I returned for my handspike, thinking that I would at all events try to force the case on one side or the other. It was so large, however, that when making the attempt I could not move it in the slightest degree, and after trying in all ways, I had to abandon the enterprise.

I had been sensible of the greater closeness of the atmosphere, and I had now no doubt that the case prevented the air which descended from above from circulating through the hold as it before had done. The temperature also, I had no doubt, was increasing as the ship got into more southern latitudes, and I had some fears of being stewed alive. I was already streaming with perspiration from my efforts.

I was, indeed, in a weak state, which was but natural, so that I was unable to undergo any exertion without feeling far more exhausted than I had previously done. Sick and weary, I returned to my resting-place. I was seriously afraid of falling really ill. If I did so, what hope could I have of escaping? The olives and pickles and biscuits, which had hitherto preserved me in health were exhausted. Rats' flesh might serve to keep me alive for a few days, but alone would certainly be very unwholesome. I was already beginning to feel a repugnance to eating it. Perhaps this was in consequence of my having devoured two rats at one meal.

My chief refreshment was cold water, and that I found a great luxury. I must have swallowed prodigious quantities of it, still the butt held out; though, if my imprisonment lasted much longer, that also must come to an end. I had never heard of hydropathy, but I was heartily willing to sing its praises, and I have ever since been a resolute water-drinker.

I lay down to rest after my exertions, but my cogitations were not of an agreeable character. I was in different moods. Sometimes I thought that I would abandon all further attempts at escaping, and yield to my fate; then I would shout out as loudly as my weak voice would allow: "Help! Help! I am dying! Help! Help! Will any one come to take me out of this place? Mercy! Mercy!" Finally a more courageous spirit animated me. "I'll not yield while I have life!" I exclaimed. "I'll cut my way with my knife through case after case, and draw out the contents so that I may make a passage through them."

I got up, feeling resolute and bold, taking my knife and my handspike with me. I had no means of sharpening the blade of my knife except on a hard piece of oak, and that was not very effectual.

On reaching the place where the opening had been, I felt all over the side of the chest. It didn't feel to be as even and regular as I had expected to find it. I began at once to use my knife, so as to cut a hole into the centre. As I pressed against it, the plank yielded slightly. The operation must inevitably be a long one, so instead of cutting on I took the handspike, and dealt several blows as hard as I could strike. The first blow I struck produced a creaking sound. I renewed my efforts. The plank began to give way. I struck again and again. The side flew inwards. I then struck about so as to knock off the splinters. I crept through the opening thus made, and from the articles I then found I was convinced that it was the old crate through which I had before made my way, and which had fallen down in front of the opening. I was sure of this when I found that I could creep out through the smaller fracture on the opposite side.

Still I was not free. No light permeated between the bales and packages. I felt about, but could not recognise any of the things with which I was before acquainted. Many of the packages appeared so placed that I might, without great care, bring them down on myself. Still, being thus far free, I determined to persevere. I thought that if I could once more get near the hatchway, I might be able to shout and make myself heard. I tried in all directions to find an opening. At last I thought that I discovered one at the spot from which the crate had fallen. I clambered up one huge bale, then got on another, and I was then on a higher level than I had been since I first fell into the hold. I was rejoiced at the prospect of liberating myself, when a faintness came over me, and I sank down on the top of the bale.

As I thus lay I pictured to myself the crew above me going through their usual avocations. I fancied that I could even hear their footsteps on the deck, as they walked about or hauled at the ropes. I was sensible of a gentle movement of the ship, which instead of tumbling furiously about, was gliding on, rising and falling slowly to the sea. The air was purer than that in the part from which I had made my way, and I could breathe more freely. Had my strength been sufficient I should have again shouted, as I felt sure I must have been heard, but when I attempted to raise my voice it failed me altogether. I could scarcely utter an articulate sound. I tried again and again, but in vain. I was conscious that I was becoming weaker and weaker.

One thing I was determined on, and that was not to return to the dreadful hold. I looked back at it with horror, and I shuddered to think of the amount of rats' flesh I had eaten. Yet in many respects I was not better off than before. I had not found any food. My position might be perilous in the extreme, for I could not tell what was around me. I might, should a sudden breeze come on, be thrown back again to the bottom of the hold. For some time I could not move, or exert my mental or physical powers. I again thought that I was going to die; but I was not really so weak as I supposed, for at length, a desire to live returning, I raised myself and tried once more to work my outward way. I could find no outlet, and as my voice had failed me, I was unable to shout, but I could manage to move about. I was very thirsty, and notwithstanding my previous resolution not to return to the lower part of the hold, I thought the wisest thing I could do was to go down and get a draught of water. I believed that I could easily find my way. I let myself down off one bale and then another, till I came to the crate. I crept through it, and curiously enough I felt as if I had returned home. I walked up to the water-cask as if it had been an old friend, with delight, and took a draught of water. It was cool and refreshing, and revived me greatly. I felt hungry; I had hoped never again to eat another rat, but the keenness of my appetite overcame my scruples, and I took one out of the bag. I even thought of placing the bag ready to catch some more. I, however, only ate one of the creatures, though not without difficulty, in spite of my hunger. I then bathed my face and washed my hands, to look a little more respectable should I ere long make my appearance among the crew. For this purpose I withdrew the spile, and allowed the fresh water to trickle first over my hands, and then over my face. This still further refreshed me, and I wished that I had performed a similar operation oftener. Had I not suspected that the water at the bottom of the hold must have been by this time very foul, I should have taken off my clothes and had a bath.

I refrained, however, from doing this, and contented myself with the pleasant sensation of feeling cleaner than I had been for a long time. I suspect that had I had a looking-glass placed before me, I should not have known myself. On feeling my arms and legs, they seemed like those of a skeleton; my cheeks were hollow, and my hair long and tangled. The rat which I had last eaten had dulled the sense of hunger. I felt a peculiar sensation afterwards, which convinced me more than ever that I could not long exist on rats' flesh. I fancy that I might have been wrong.

It was night when I made my last attempt to get upwards, so I thought that I would take a sleep and renew my efforts in the daytime, when I should have a better chance of attracting notice should I get near the hatchway. I accordingly lay down to rest, hoping that it would be the last time I should have to sleep in the hold. I took only short snatches of sleep.

When I awoke I lay for some time without moving, and could not help thinking over and over again of the events which had occurred since I left the quay at Liverpool. I knew that the end of my confinement must be approaching in some form or other; I should either die, or be restored to the open air. In spite of the wretched condition to which I had been reduced, I had a strong wish to live. I especially wanted to go back to assure Aunt Deb that I had not intentionally run away, and also to relieve the minds of my father and mother, and brothers and sisters, of the anxiety I believed they must have felt on my account. Suddenly also I remembered with painful distinctness the remarks Mr Butterfield had made respecting Captain Longfleet, the commander of the "Emu," and his ruffianly crew. Certainly their appearance was not in their favour; and old Growles, who had received me so surlily, was not a good specimen of British seamen. What if the ship should prove to be a pirate, instead of an honest trader? I had heard of the crews of vessels, fitted out at Liverpool, assisting slavers on the coast of Africa in carrying out their nefarious trade, some committing all sorts of atrocities.

Should the "Emu" prove to be one of these, even if I were not hove overboard, I might be sold as a slave in the Spanish possessions, perhaps to labour in the mines among the hapless Indians, who are thus employed by their cruel taskmasters. "Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise," and I should have been much less anxious had I not heard so much about such things. I remembered especially a yarn old Riddle told me one day about a messmate of his, Toney Lawson. I may as well try to give the yarn in his own words, though that may be a hard matter, and I can scarcely hope to do full justice to his narrative.

"Toney, d'ye see, was once on a time knocking about Plymouth, after he had been paid off from the ship he last sailed in, when who should he meet but Joe Gubbins, who had served with him for many years gone by. Joe had always been a wild slip of a fellow when he was a youngster.

"Said Joe to Toney, 'What are you doing in these 'ere parts, old Ship?'

"Toney told him how he had been paid off and had pretty well emptied his pockets of shiners, and was thinking that before long he must join another craft.

"'That's just what I was a thinking of too, so just step in here, mate, and we'll have a talk about the matter over a glass or two,' and he pointed to the door of a public-house which stood temptingly open to entice passers-by.

"Toney was not one of those chaps to get drunk on every occasion, but he had no objection to good liquor when it came in his way. So, intending to pay for what he had, he went in with Joe. Joe boasted of a craft he had served aboard--a privateer, he called her. She had taken no end of prizes, and had made every one on board her as rich as Jews, only somehow or other they didn't keep their money as well as Jews did, 'and that's the reason why my pockets ain't lined as well as they were a few weeks ago,' observed Joe. Toney, who was a steady sort of a man, didn't quite like the account Joe gave of the 'Viper's' cruise Joe was talking about.

"'Why, to my mind, she's no better than a bloodthirsty pirate,' he said.

"Joe laughed. 'You're too particular, mate,' said he. ''Tain't no worse than many another crew afloat.'

"However, he didn't press the point any longer, but emptying his glass, called upon Toney to drink up his, and ordered more and more liquor in, when Toney said he would not take another drop. At last Toney didn't know what happened except that he found himself slipping off from his seat on to the sandy floor, and could not, for the life of him, get up again. He thought it would be better to go to sleep where he was, so he coiled himself away to have a snooze. When he woke he tried to recollect what had happened.

"He remembered that he had been sitting with Joe Gubbins, and that he somehow or other got down on the floor, so he felt about, thinking he was there still. But all was dark; and instead of a sandy floor and the legs of the tables and chairs, his hand touched only some hard pitchy planks. He stretched out his arm as high as he could, and found that there was a deck close above him. He crawled along, and came right against a bulkhead. He knew then that he must be on board a craft of some sort. He was not a man to make a fuss about nothing; and as he was still only half awake, he thought he might as well turn round and go to sleep again.

"When he roused up a second time, he felt the vessel moving to the heave of the sea. He had been too long afloat not to know that she was making good way through the water with a fresh breeze. As he was getting somewhat hungry, he didn't want to be any longer down in the hold. He thought it was time to sing out and let those on board know where he was. Having a good pair of lungs of his own, he shouted pretty lustily, but no one came near him, nor hailed him.

"'This seems a curious job,' he said to himself; 'have they taken me for a bale of goods and hove me down here to stay till they discharge cargo?'

"Presently he heard the sound of a gun fired overhead; right aft, he judged, for he knew well enough by the movements of the vessel which way she was going. Then another, and another followed; then came a cheer, though he heard it but faintly down where he was. The guns again went off. He guessed that the craft he was on board of was being chased, and that the cheer was given because the crew had knocked away some of the enemy's spars. He could hear two or three shots strike the hull of the vessel, so he knew that they were not having the game all to themselves. Being fond of fighting, he wished that he was on deck to take his share in it. There was no use wishing without trying to get out, but whichever way he moved he found a strong bulkhead.

"Though he kicked with all his might he could not start a plank. He tried again and again, till every muscle in his body ached. At last he had to give it up. His temper was not growing very sweet, as may be supposed. He began to think whether it was Joe Gubbins that had brought him aboard, for he didn't come of his own accord, of that he was certain. He vowed that he would pay Joe off whenever he fell in with him. At last the firing ceased. He felt, by the quiver running through every plank and timber that the craft was carrying as much sail as she could bear. There was no more cheering, and he could not tell whether she had got away altogether, or was still trying to escape from a big enemy. He tried to fancy why he was kept down there all this time. He supposed that he had been forgotten by whoever brought him aboard. He could not tell whether the vessel was a king's ship or a privateer, but that she was not a merchantman he was pretty sure. Perhaps, if she was a man-of-war, or a privateer, she was being chased by a Frenchman, but if she was a pirate she was more likely to be running from an English frigate than any other. Still it was not likely that a pirate would venture into Plymouth Sound.

"In either case Toney didn't relish the thoughts of being captured. In one there would be a French prison in store for him, and in the other a man-of-war captain would not believe that he had been brought aboard against his will, and would declare that he had stowed himself away to escape. At last he got so hungry that he began to fear he should be starved to death. He tried another shout. His voice didn't reach those on deck. He knew by this time that it must be night. Having nothing better to do, he was going off to sleep when he heard a bolt withdrawn from the outside, and a light streamed in to where he lay.

"'Who are you?' he asked, springing up and knocking his head against the deck above him with a force which sent him backwards.

"'I'm coming to see how you're getting on, mate,' answered his visitor.

"'Badly enough,' said Toney, 'I'm as hungry as a shark, and don't like being shut up down here. Who are you?'

"'I've been sent down here to ask if you'll, like a wise man, join this craft. She wants hands, and as you're well-known to be a good seaman, you'll get a good berth aboard.'

"'I never join a craft unless I know what sort of a captain and messmates I'm a-going to have,' said Toney.

"'There are times when a man mustn't be over particular,' said his visitor. 'You're a fool if you don't say yes, so just come on deck and sign articles. You'll learn all about this craft afterwards.'

"'No, no,' said Toney; 'I never buy a pig in a poke. Tell me what? Want to know, then I'll tell you whether I'll join or not.'

"'You'll join, whether you like it or not,' said his visitor with a growl. 'You've chosen to come aboard, and we don't allow idlers.'

"'I didn't choose to come aboard,' said Toney. 'Somebody brought me aboard when I was obfuscated, I suppose, and I'll have a reckoning with that somebody before long.'

"'If that's your notion you'll stay where you are,' said his visitor, and he slammed the door and bolted it.

"Toney was a determined fellow, but there was one thing he couldn't stand, and that was hunger. He got worse and worse. He could not sleep, and he could not shout out. By the time his visitor came again he was as meek as a lamb.

"'Are you going to join or are you not?' was the question.

"'I give in,' said Toney.

"'Come along then,' said his visitor.

"Toney crawled out and up the ladder of the main hatchway. He found that he was on board a brigantine, a rakish-looking craft, with several officers standing aft by the captain, and a numerous crew, among whom he saw Joe Gubbins. He couldn't help lifting his fist and shaking it at Joe, who stood with a brazen face looking as if the threat could not be intended for him.

"'Are you hungry, my man?' asked an officer, whom he supposed to be the captain.

"'Can't say but what I am,' said Toney.

"'Then there'll be plenty of grub for you when you've signed these articles.'

"'Should like to know what they are, sir,' said Toney.

"'There's the book; you may read them,' said the captain. 'Put your name down at the bottom of the page.'

"Now Toney was no great hand at reading or writing. He could just manage to scrawl his name. He tried to make out what the articles were about, but it was more than he could do.

"'Come, my man, are you ready for your grub?' asked the captain.

"Toney felt as if he should drop if he didn't get something to eat, and just then a whiff from the galley came across his nose. He took the pen and managed to write his name, in a fashion.

"'That'll do, my man,' says the captain. 'You're now one of the crew, and under my orders. We've pretty strict discipline aboard here. There's the yard-arm, and there's the sea alongside.'

"Toney was now allowed to go forward and enjoy a good blow out, which he much needed. He felt more like himself afterwards. He soon showed that there was not a better seaman aboard.

"Nothing particular occurred to show the character of the vessel. Joe kept out of his way until he got into a better temper, and they became very good friends again. They ran to the southward till they were in the latitude of the Guinea Coast, when they fell in with a craft, into which they discharged part of their cargo in exchange for some bags of gold. They now carried on in a strange way, chasing several vessels, capturing some and taking their cargoes out of them, in spite of what their crews could say, afterwards putting them on board a Spanish or a Portuguese craft and getting doubloons in exchange. Their guns and their numerous crew made resistance impossible. They were wonderfully successful in their proceedings, until one day they fell in with a British frigate and had to up stick and run for it. The African coast had become too hot for them, so they stood away for the Caribbean Sea and Spanish Main. Here they carried on worse than before. The crews of all vessels which resisted were made to walk the plank, and the vessels, after everything had been taken out worth having, were sent to the bottom.

"Toney, being an honest man, could not stand this; but he knew that, being tarred with the same brush, if taken he would share the fate of the rest. He determined to cut and run on the first opportunity. A strict watch was kept on him; and Joe, who knew his thoughts, hinted that the yard-arm would be his fate if he made the attempt and failed. Still he was resolved to try and get off, but the matter was settled for him in a way he little expected. The brigantine, during a heavy gale one night, was struck by lightning and blew up, Toney and two others only finding themselves floating among the wreck. Joe Gubbins was one of these. Toney managed to get hold of the mainmast and clambered into the top, where he got his legs out of the water and was trying to help Joe Gubbins, when Joe, with a shriek, disappeared. The other man shared the same fate. Toney expected to die, but the next day he was picked up by an English sloop-of-war; and as he took care not to give a very clear account of the craft he had been aboard of, he was allowed to enter as one of her crew. Here he met Roger Riddle, to whom he gave the account of his adventure."

I thought to myself perhaps the "Emu" is employed in the same sort of trade as the "Viper," and if so, I shall be as badly off as Toney Lawson. _

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