I looked carefully for it, not so much on account of its value; but that its disappearance from the shelf was something rather strange--stranger still that I could nowhere lay my hand upon it.
_Had I eaten it_?
I began to fancy that I had done so. Perhaps, during a period of absent-mindedness, I might have swallowed it up, without ever thinking of what I was doing. Certainly, I had no remembrance of having tasted food since I ate its counterpart--the other half; and if I had eaten it also, it must have done me very little good. I had neither enjoyed the meal, nor yet did my stomach appear to have received much benefit from it, since I was just as hungry as if I had not tasted food that day.
I recollected perfectly having placed it alongside the knife and cup; and how could it part from the place, unless it had been taken away by my own hand? I could not have thrown it accidentally from the little shelf, for I did not remember making a movement in that direction. But even so, it would still have been somewhere about me? It could not get underneath the b.u.t.t, for the crevice there was closed up, regularly caulked with pieces of the cloth. I had done this for the purpose of making a level surface to rest upon.
Certainly the half biscuit was not to be found. It was gone--whether down my throat or in some other way, I could not decide--but if the former, I thought to myself, what a pity I had eaten it without knowing what I was about, for certainly my absence of mind had deprived me of all enjoyment of the meal.
I wavered for a long while, as to whether I should take another biscuit out of the box, or go to bed supperless. But the dread of the future decided me to abstain; and, summoning all my resolution, I drank off the cold water, placed my cup upon the shelf, and laid myself down for the night.
CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.
AN UGLY INTRUDER.
For a long while I did not sleep, but lay thinking over the mysterious disappearance of the half biscuit. I say _mysterious_, for I was more than half convinced that I had _not_ eaten it, but that it had gone in some other way; though how, I could not even guess, since I was perfectly alone, the only living thing, as I supposed, in that vessel"s hold which could have touched it. Ah! now I thought of my dream--of the crab! Perhaps, after all, there might have been a crab?--and though it was but a dream that I was drowned, yet the rest might be true enough, and a crab might actually have crawled over me? It might have eaten the biscuit?
It would not be its natural food, I knew; but shut up in a ship"s hold, where it could have no choice, it would be likely enough to eat such a thing rather than suffer starvation. There might be a crab after all?
Partly by such a train of reflections, and partly by the hungry craving of my stomach, I was kept awake for hours. At length I found myself going off, not into a regular sleep, but a half sleep or doze, from which every two or three minutes I awoke again.
In one of these intervals, during which I lay awake, I fancied that I heard a noise, different from the sounds that habitually fell upon my ear. The ship was running smoothly, and I could distinguish this unusual sound above the soft sighing of the waves. This last was now so slight, that the ticking of my watch appeared louder and more distinct than I had ever observed it.
The sound which had attracted my attention, and which was something new to me, appeared like a gentle scratching. It came from the corner where my buskins lay empty and idle. _Something was scratching at my buskins_!
"The crab, to a certainty!" I said to myself. The thought at once drove away all ideas of sleep; and I placed myself in an att.i.tude to listen, and, if possible, lay my hands on the thievish intruder; for I now felt certain that, crab or no crab, whatever creature was making the scratching noise was the same that had stolen my supper.
Once more I heard the sc.r.a.ping and scratching noise. Certainly it proceeded from my buskins?
Slowly and silently I raised myself into a half-upright position, so that I could reach the buskins with a single effort, and in this att.i.tude I again listened for a repet.i.tion of the sound.
But though I remained patient for a considerable time, I did not hear it again; and I then pa.s.sed my hands over the buskins, and around the place where they were lying, but felt nothing there. They appeared to be just as they had been left, and nothing amiss. I also groped over all the floor of my cell, but with like result. Nothing was there that ought not to have been.
I was not a little perplexed, and lay for a good while awake and listening, without hearing anything more of the mysterious noise. Sleep once more began to steal upon me, and I dropped off into a series of dozing fits as before.
Once again the sc.r.a.ping and scratching noise falling upon my ear disturbed me, and caused me to lie listening. Most surely it came from the buskins; but when I moved to get within reach of them, the noise instantly ceased, as if I had frightened the creature that was making it; and, just as before, I groped everywhere and found nothing!
"Ha!" muttered I to myself, "I now know what has been causing all this disturbance: no crab at all--for a crab could not possibly crawl so quickly out of the way. The intruder is a mouse. Nothing more nor less. Strange I did not think of this before! I might have guessed that it was a mouse, and not have made myself so uneasy about it. It could only be a mouse; and, but for my dream, I should, perhaps, never have thought of its being a crab."
With this reflection I lay down again, intending to go to sleep at once, and not trouble myself any more about the mouse or its movements.
But I had scarcely settled my cheek upon the pillow, when the scratching began afresh, and it now occurred to me that the mouse was gnawing at my buskins, and probably doing them a serious damage. Although they were of no service to me just then, I could not permit them to be eaten up in this way; and, raising myself once more, I made a dash to catch the mouse.
In this I was unsuccessful. I did not even touch the animal; but I thought I heard it scampering through the crevice that led out between the brandy-cask and the timbers of the ship.
On handling the buskins, I discovered to my chagrin that half of the upper leather of one of them was eaten away! The mouse must have been busy to have made so much ruin in so short a time, for it was but a few hours before that I had had the buskins in my hands, and I had then noticed nothing wrong with them. Perhaps several mice had been at work?
This was likely enough.
Partly to save the buskins from total destruction, and partly to hinder myself from being disturbed again, I took them out of the corner, and placing them near my head, covered them up with a fold of the broadcloth. This done, I once more laid myself out for a sleep.
After awhile the dozing fit came on me, but I was again awakened by a singular sensation, as of something crawling over me! It appeared as if some creature had just crept over my legs with great rapidity.
The feeling startled me into complete wakefulness, I did not move, however, but lay quietly waiting to see if the thing should come again.
Of course, I concluded that it was still my mouse, now running about in search of the buskins. I was getting annoyed by its intrusion, and I knew it would be no use to grope for it, as it would easily escape through one of the crevices, as soon as it found me moving. I determined, therefore, to lie quite still, and let it again crawl upon me as before, and I could then easily seize upon it. It was not my intention to kill the little creature; but I intended to give it a good squeeze, or pinch its ear sharply, so that it would not come troubling me any more.
I lay a long while without hearing or feeling it. At last, however, my patience was likely to be rewarded. I could tell by a slight movement, in the piece of cloth that covered my limbs, that something was running upon it, and I even fancied that I heard the pattering of little feet.
Nearer still the cloth appeared to move, until I could distinctly feel a creature crawling on my ankles, and then upward to my thighs. It appeared heavy for a mouse; but I did not stay to reflect about this, for now or never was the time to seize upon it.
Down came my hands, with fingers outstretched to cover it; but, oh, horror! what a mistake I had made.
Instead of the little tiny mouse, which I intended to clutch, my hand rested upon the body of an animal almost as large as a kitten! There was no mistaking what it was. _Beyond doubt, it was a great, horrid rat_!
CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.
REFLECTIONS ON RATS.
The ugly animal left me no choice to doubt of its species. The moment my fingers touched its smooth coat, I recognised it by the "feel;" but I felt the wicked creature in a double sense, for before I could disengage my hand from the clutch I had so rashly taken, its sharp teeth had pierced my thumb, until they nearly met through the flesh. At the same instant its screech sounded in my ears shrill and terrifying!
I withdrew my fingers as quickly as I could, and flinging myself to the furthest corner of the chamber--that is, the one which I thought furthest from my disagreeable visitor--there for some minutes I crouched, listening to hear whether the hideous animal had left me.
I could hear nothing, and I concluded it had made a retreat to some other part of the ship. Most probably it was as badly scared as I-- though that could hardly have been--and in proof that I was the more frightened of the two, the rat had the presence of mind to use its teeth and bite me, while I was for the moment quite driven out of my senses.
In the brief encounter my antagonist had certainly proved victorious; for in addition to the fright he had given me, he had inflicted a severe and painful wound, that was every moment growing more painful. I perceived that my thumb was bleeding freely, for I could feel the blood running over my fingers, and glueing them to the very tips.
I could have borne my discomfiture calmly enough, for what signified the bite of a rat? but that was not the whole question. The thought that troubled me was, whether the creature had quite gone away, or whether it was still near, and would return?
The thought of its coming back again, perhaps emboldened by having got off without punishment, caused me very great annoyance.
You may wonder at this, but it was really the case. During all my life I have had a sort of instinctive antipathy to rats--I might even say a _dread_ of them. This feeling was stronger while I was only a boy; but, although I have since encountered animals of a much more dangerous character, and fought with some, I do not remember any that ever inspired me with more fear than I have felt in coming in contact with that common and ubiquitous creature--the _rat_. It is a fear blended with a feeling of disgust; and it is a fear not altogether unfounded-- for I know of many well-authenticated cases, in which rats have attacked human beings, and not a few where children, and even men, wounded or otherwise disabled, have actually been killed and devoured by these hideous _omnivora_.
Many such stories had been told me while I was a boy; and it was but natural I should remember them at that moment. I _did_ remember them; and under the influence of such memories, I felt a fear upon me very much akin to terror. The rat, too, was one of the largest I had ever encountered, so large that for a moment I could scarce believe it to be a rat. It _felt_ as bulky as a half-grown cat.
As soon as I became a little composed, I tied up my thumb with a rag torn from my shirt. The wound in a few minutes" time had grown exceedingly painful--for the tooth of a rat is almost as poisonous as the bite of a scorpion--and small as was the scratch, I antic.i.p.ated a good deal of suffering from it.
I need not add that the incident had banished sleep, at least for a time. In reality I did not go to sleep again till nearly morning; and then I awoke every minute or two with a start--from fearful dreams, in which the vision was either a rat or a crab making to seize me by the throat!
For hours before I slept at all, I lay listening to see if the brute would return; but I did not note any signs of his presence for the remainder of that night. Perhaps the _squeeze_ I had given him--for I had come down rather heavily upon him--had frightened him enough to hinder a repet.i.tion of his visit. With this hope I consoled myself, else it might have been still longer before I should have slept.
Of course, the presence of the rat at once accounted for the disappearance of my half biscuit, as well as for the damaged upper leather of my buskin, which latter had been lying at the door of his milder cousin the mouse. The rat, then, must have been prowling around me all the while, without my having known of it.
During the hours I lay listening, before falling asleep again, my mind was busy with one particular thought--that was, how I should manage in case the rat should return? How was I to destroy--or, at all events, get rid of--this most unwelcome intruder? I would at that moment have given a year of my life for the loan of a steel trap, or any trap that would take rats; but since the loan of a trap was out of the question, I set my brains to work to invent some contrivance that would enable me to rid myself of my unpleasant neighbour: neighbour I might call him, for I knew that his house was not far off--perhaps at that moment he had his den not three feet from my face--likely enough, under the biscuit-box or the cask of brandy.
Cudgel my brains as I might I could hit upon no plan to get hold of him--at least, no plan to trap him with safety. I felt pretty sure I could lay my hands upon him, provided he came near enough, just as I had done already; but I was in no humour to repeat that performance. I knew the crevice by which he had retreated. It was the aperture between the two great barrels--the brandy-cask and the water-b.u.t.t.