The moon had been risen about two hours, when I spied the gleam of water
in the bottom of the boat. I was greatly startled, believing that she
was leaking. Certainly there had been no water when I first entered her
nor down to this minute had I noticed the gleam or heard the noise of it
in her. There was a little pewter mug in the stern sheets, a relic of
the ship from which the Portuguese had come. I fell to baling with it,
and presently emptied the boat. No more water entered, for which at
first I was deeply thankful; but after a little I got musing upon how it
could have penetrated, seeing that no more came; and then a dreadful
suspicion entering my mind, I looked for the jar which the Portuguese
had handed into the boat, and saw it lying on its bilge in the bows. I
picked it up and shook it; it was empty! It had been corked by a piece
of canvas which still remained in the bung, but on the jar capsizing
through the jerking of the boat, the water had easily drained out, and
it was this precious fluid which I had been feverishly baling and
casting overboard!
Maddened as I was by this discovery, I had yet sense enough remaining to
sop my handkerchief in the little puddle that still damped the bottom of
the boat, and to wring the moisture into the pewter measure. But at the
outside half a pint was the utmost I recovered, which done I sat me
down, my face buried in my hands, with my eyes scorched as though they
were seared by the burning tears that rose to them from my full and
breaking heart.
The night passed. Hour after hour I lay in a sort of stupefaction in the
stern sheets, taking no notice of the weather, my eyes fixed upon the
stars, a little space of which directly over my head I would crazily
essay to number. Once I pressed the handkerchief to my parched lips, but
found the damp of it brackish, and threw it from me. But I would not
touch the precious drop of water I had preserved. Too bitterly well did
I guess how the morrow’s sun would serve me, and the very soul within me
seemed to recoil from the temptation to moisten my dry and burning
tongue.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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