No doubt there were numberless packages heaped over me, one upon another. No doubt the hold was quite full of them, and I knew that I was near the bottom of all. I remembered, too--what had _puzzled_ me at the time--that the stowage had continued for a long time after I came aboard; that for two days and nights the work seemed to be going on, and therefore the whole cargo must have been placed above me. Still, withal, a dozen large boxes would reach to the top, or, maybe, not half so many would fill up to the deck. Allowing a day to the cutting through each one, I might be able to reach the top in about a week or ten days! Though a joyful thought, it would have been far more welcome at an earlier period, but it now came accompanied by the wildest regrets. Perhaps it had come too late to save me? Had I begun aright, when I had my full box of biscuits, I might easily have carried the plan into execution; but now, alas! scarce a morsel remained; and it seemed hopeless to attempt what I had conceived. Still, I could not surrender up this alluring prospect of life and freedom; and, stifling all idle regrets, I gave my mind to its further consideration. Time, of course, was now the important matter, and that which caused me the greatest anxiety. I feared that even before I could accomplish an opening on the farther side of the empty barrel, my food would be all consumed, and my strength quite exhausted. Perhaps I should die in the middle of my work--literally "in the breach." While pondering thus, another new thought came uppermost in my mind. It was also a good idea, however horrid it may seem to those who do not hunger. But hunger and the dread of starvation have the effect of simplifying the choice of a man's appetite, and under such circumstances the stomach ceases to be dainty. Mine had long since lost all niceness; and was no longer squeamish as to the sort of food I might swallow. In fact, _I could have eaten anything that was eatable_. And now for the new idea. CHAPTER FIFTY ONE. A GRAND RAT-TRAP. For some time I have said nothing of the _rats_. Do not fancy, from this silence about them, that they had gone away and left me to myself! They had done no such thing. They were around and about me, as brisk as ever, and as troublesome. Bolder they could not have been, unless they had positively assailed me; and no doubt such would have been the case, had I exposed myself to their attack. But, whenever I moved, my first care had been to close them out, by means of walls, which I constructed with pieces of cloth, and thus only had I kept them at bay. Now and then, when I had passed from place to place, I could hear and feel them all around me; and twice or three times had I been bitten by one or another. It was only by exercising extreme vigilance and caution, that I was enabled to keep them from attacking me.