I watched, and when none saw, when it was dark, I took a great vessel of strong drink, and also bread and meat, and went down with them into the deep places of the ship. I went near the keel. I sat in darkness, with beams around me, and ropes, and the rotten water that flowed slowly in from the sea—and which moved with regular tides, backwards and forwards, because of the ship rolling on the waves. That water had the smell of the thick mud in the creeks among the woods, after the rains, when the mists arise. It washed and gurgled over the slimy wood, and also the rusty chains and nails which lay at the bottom of the ship. There I ate and drank, and no one saw me. I heard them howling up above, for they knew not where I was; but they knew they were to die upon the sea. I stayed there drinking and sleeping. The strong drink was good, it made me drunk; it made me as if I was back again where the dark river joins the sea. When the jug was dry I went for more. It was night, and a great wind was blowing over the waves, and the ship rose up and sank down, like the first ship that went upon the rocks and was broken. The people were running on the deck—they were in fear; they said the sea was coming up over the ship. I did not care; I knew where the strong drink was. I got another jug, greater than the first, I also got some bread. As I passed in the dark, I heard a man say to a woman, “In two days there will be no food left.” I did not care; I went with the strong drink into the secret place of the ship. There I lay among the ropes and beams, and the stinking water which gurgled among them, as the waves beat hard on the outside. It was like a cave in the woods: it was like the den of the wild beasts. I burrowed in it like the crocodile in his abiding place, among the weeds and the thick herbage which grows by the creek. There I ate, there I drank—oh, much—much. The strong drink was like fire in me, and like light to me; it showed me my hut, where the river joins the sea; it showed me sun, and moon, and stars, and the sky over the woods and the sea; it showed me the deep waters where I paddled my canoe, and where I swam, and where I dived. I shouted and sang war-songs, and those above thought that the spirits of their enemies were exulting and were singing. When the jug was empty I went on deck. Many days had come and gone away into the past. The deck was full of people; they lay upon the planks, they groaned and cried, they were starving, and they yelled out for water, and for cassava, and millet, and maize, and rice. I went to the secret place where were the strong drinks. Lo! there were no more! Others found out the place, and took the drinks. I searched everywhere, but there was nothing—not a drop—not a crumb. There was no more food, no more drink—now we must die. I sat upon the deck, so did all; no man or woman spoke: sometimes one moaned—that was all. It was the same in the sunlight and the moonlight—when the air did