Chapter 20 - The Boy Tar by Mayne Reid
Sea-Sick
The continued motion of the vessel, and the seething sound of the water, which I could hear very plainly, convinced me that we had parted from the quay, and were moving onward. I felt completely happy; there was no longer any fear of my being taken back to the farm. I was now fairly launched upon salt-water, and in twenty-four hours would be out on the wide Atlantic—far from land, and in no danger either of being pursued or sent back. I was in ecstasies of delight at the success of my plan.
I thought it rather strange, their starting in the night—for it was still quite dark—but I presumed they had a pilot who knew all the channels of the bay, and who could take them into the open water just as well by night as by day.
I was still somewhat puzzled to account for the extreme length of the night—that was altogether mysterious—and I began to think that I must have slept during the whole of a day, and was awake for two nights instead of one. Either that, or some of it must have been a dream. However, I was too much joyed at the circumstance of our having started, to speculate upon the strangeness of the hour. It mattered not to me whether we had set sail by night or by day, so long as we got safely out into the great ocean; and I laid myself down again to wait until the time should arrive, when I might safely show myself on deck.
I was very impatient for the arrival of that crisis, and for two special reasons. One was, that I had grown very thirsty, and longed for a drink. The cheese and dry crackers had helped to make me so thirsty. I was not hungry, for part of the provision was still left, but I would gladly have exchanged it for a cup of water.
The other reason why I wanted to get out of my hiding-place was, that my bones had become very sore from lying so long on the hard plank, and also from the cramped attitude I was compelled to assume, on account of the want of space. So full of pain did my joints feel, that I could hardly turn myself about; and I felt even worse when I continued to lie still. This also strengthened my belief that I must have slept during the whole of a day, for a single night upon the naked timbers could hardly have tired me so much.
What with the thirst, therefore, and the soreness of my bones, I kept fidgeting and wriggling about for several hours, without intermission.
For these two reasons I was very impatient to crawl forth from my narrow quarters, and set my foot upon deck; but for other reasons I deemed it prudent to endure both the thirst and the aching, and remain where I was for some time longer.
I had sufficient knowledge of seaport customs to be aware that ships usually take a pilot a good way out to sea, and in all likelihood there was one on board. Should I show myself before this functionary had been dismissed, I would certainly be taken back in his pilot-boat; which, after all my success, and all my sufferings, would have been a humiliating result.
Even had there been no pilot, we were yet in the track of fishing boats and small coasting vessels; and one of these, inward bound, could easily be brought alongside, and I might be chucked into it like a coil of rope, and carried back to the port.
These considerations passed through my mind, and despite the torment of thirst and the painful aching of my joints, I remained within my lurking-place.
For the first hour or two, the ship moved steadily through the water. It was calm weather, I supposed, and she was yet within the shelter of the bay. Then I perceived that she began to sway a little to and fro, and the rushing of the water along her sides became hoarser and more violent. Now and then I could hear the loud bumping of waves as they struck against the bows, and the timbers creaked under the concussions.
These sounds were not displeasing. I reasoned that we had got out of the bay, and were passing into the open sea, where I knew the wind was always fresher, and the waves larger and bolder. “The pilot,” thought I, “will soon be dismissed, and then I may safely show myself on deck.”
Of course I was not without misgivings as to my reception by the people of the ship—in truth, I felt serious apprehension upon that score. I remembered the harsh brutal mate, and the reckless indifferent crew. They would be indignant at the deception I had practised upon them—perhaps treat me with cruelty—flog me, or commit some other outrage. I was far from being easy in my mind about how they would use me, and I would fain have avoided the encounter.
But that was clearly impossible. I could not keep concealed for the whole voyage, for long weeks, ay, months; I had no provisions, no water, and sooner or later I must go on deck, and take my chances.
While speculating upon these chances, I began to feel very miserable, not with mental anguish alone, but with bodily pain. Worse than thirst it was, or the soreness of my bones. A new misery was fast growing upon me. My head swam with dizziness, the sweat started from my brow, and I felt sick both at the heart and in the stomach. I experienced a suffocating sensation in my breast and throat, as if my ribs were being compressed inwardly, and my lungs had not room enough to expand and let me breathe. My nostrils were filled with a nauseating smell—the smell of “bilge-water”—for being at the bottom of the hold, I was close to the latter, and could hear it “jabbling” about under the timbers, where no doubt it had lain for a long time. In all these symptoms I had no difficulty in telling what ailed me: sea-sickness—nothing more. Knowing this, I was not alarmed; but yet I experienced horrid sensations, as every one must who is under the infliction of this peculiar malady. Of course I felt ten times worse, situated as I was, choking with thirst, and no water near; for I fancied that a glass of pure water would to some extent have relieved me. It might remove the nausea, and give me freer breath. I would have given anything for one mouthful.
In dread of that terrible pilot, I bore my sufferings as long as I could. But the rocking of the ship every moment became more violent, and the smell of the bilge-water more nauseous. In like proportion rose the revolt in my stomach, until the sickness and retching became quite unendurable.
“Surely the pilot must have gone back? Whether or not, I can stand it no longer; I must get upon deck, or I shall die—oh!”
I rose from my recumbent position, and began to grope my way along the side of the great butt. I reached the end of it, and felt for the aperture by which I had squeezed myself in. To my great surprise, I found that it was closed up!
I could scarce credit my senses, and I felt again and again, passing my hands upwards and downwards. Beyond a doubt the aperture was shut up! My hands met resistance everywhere, coming in contact with a perpendicular wall, which, I could tell by the “feel,” was the side of an immense box. It blocked up the interval between the butt and the side of the ship so completely, that there was not space enough on either side to thrust the point of my finger through.
I placed my hands to the box in hopes of being able to push it away, but I could not move it. I laid my shoulder to it, and heaved with all the strength of my body; I could not even shake it! It was a large packing-case, no doubt filled with heavy goods. A strong man could scarce have stirred it from the spot, and my puny strength was altogether insufficient to move it.
After an effort I desisted from trying, and crept back along the side of the butt, hoping I might get out by the other end; but on reaching this, my hopes were dissipated in a moment. There was not the space of an inch between the rim of the great cask and another similar barrel, which filled the aperture up to the ribs of the vessel! A mouse could hardly have squeezed itself through between.
I next felt along the top of both casks, but with like result. There was just space in that direction to admit of passing my hand through, and no more. A huge beam, traversing along the top, was within a few inches of the rounded sides of the casks, and there was no aperture that would have permitted me, small as I was, to have squeezed myself through.
I shall leave you to fancy my feelings, when the conviction broke upon me that I was actually shut in—imprisoned—built up among the merchandise!