Adventure stories; Sea stories; Seafaring life -- Juvenile fiction
After several hours spent in dozing and dreaming by "fits and starts," I
was again fairly awake, and could sleep no more for thinking of the
great rat. Indeed, the pain I suffered was of itself sufficient to keep
me awake; for not only my thumb, but the whole hand was swollen, and
ached acutely. I had no remedy but to bear it patiently; and knowing
that the inflammation would soon subside and relieve me, I made up my
mind to endure it with fortitude. Greater evils absorb the less; and it
was so in my case. My dread of the rat paying me another visit was a
far greater trouble to me than the pain of my wound, and as my attention
was wholly taken up with the former, I almost forgot that my thumb was
aching.
As soon as I was well awake, my thoughts returned to the subject of
trapping my tormentor. I was quite sure he would return to trouble me,
for I already had some indications of his presence. The weather still
continued calm, and I could hear any occasional sounds very distinctly.
I heard what resembled the pattering of little feet, as of the rat
running over the lid of an empty box; and once or twice I clearly
distinguished the short, shrill cricket-like "chirp" that rats are wont
to utter. I can think of no more disagreeable sound than the voice of a
rat, and at that time it sounded doubly disagreeable. You may smile at
my simple fears, but I could not help them. I could not help a
presentiment that somehow or other my life was in danger from the
presence of this rat, and the presentiment was not a vain or idle one,
as you shall afterwards learn.
The fear that I had, then, was that the rat would attack me in my sleep.
So long as I might be awake, I was not much afraid that it could do me
any very great injury. It might bite me, as it had done already, but
that signified little. I should be able to destroy it somehow. But
supposing I should fall into a deep sleep, and the spiteful creature
should then seize me by the throat? Some such idea as this it was that
kept me in misery. I could not always keep awake and on the _qui vive_.
The longer I did so, the more deeply would I slumber afterwards, and
then would be the time of danger. I could not go to sleep again with
any feeling of security until that rat was destroyed; and therefore its
destruction was the end I now aimed at.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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