The Boy Tar Part 22

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 s.p.a.ce 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 pa.s.sed 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 p.r.i.c.king 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 pa.s.sed 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 b.u.t.t.

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 att.i.tude 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 pa.s.sed through the aperture, and with trembling fingers I examined this new object of interest. Coa.r.s.e 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 coa.r.s.e pieces that would not pa.s.s 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 s.p.a.ce 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 s.p.a.ce--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 s.p.a.ce 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 acc.u.mulated; 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 ma.s.s. 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 att.i.tude I was compelled to a.s.sume. Even had I had ample s.p.a.ce to work in, I could not easily have got the stuff back to a suitable bulk; for the coa.r.s.er 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 s.p.a.ce 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-b.u.t.t, 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 s.p.a.ce 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 ma.s.s of cloth, and was asleep in the twinkling of an eye.