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  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

  THE VENT-PEG.

  Oh! how I drank of that delicious water! I thought I should never besatisfied; but at length satiety was produced, and I thirsted no more.

  The effect was not immediate--the first long draught did not relieve me,or only for a time. I longed again, and again placed my lips to thespouting stream; and this I did repeatedly, until the longing returnednot, and the pangs of thirst were forgotten as if I had never felt them!

  It is beyond the power of the imagination to form any idea of the agonyof thirst--mere fancy cannot realise it. It must be experienced to beknown, but a proof of its intensity might be given by adducing thehorrible alternatives to which men have resorted when reduced to theextremity of this torturing pain. And yet, withal, as soon as thecraving is appeased, so soon as a sufficient quantity of water haspassed the lips, the pain exists no more, but ends with the suddennessof a dream! No other bodily ill can be so quickly healed.

  My thirst was now gone, and I felt buoyant; but my habitual prudence didnot forsake me. During the intervals when my lips were removed from thevent, I had kept the water from running by pressing the end of myfore-finger into the hole, and using it as a stopper. Somethingwhispered me that it would be well not to waste the precious fluid, andI resolved to obey the suggestion. When I had finished drinking, I usedmy finger as before; but after a little, I grew tired of making avent-peg of my finger, and looked about for something else. I gropedall over the bottom timbers, but could find nothing--not the smallestpiece of stick within reach of my right hand. It was the fore-finger ofmy left that was playing vent-peg; and I dared not remove it, else thewater would have gushed forth in a tolerably thick, and therefore awasteful, jet.

  I bethought me of a piece of cheese, and I drew what remained from mypocket. It was of too excellent a quality for the purpose, and crumbledas I applied it to the aperture. It was forced out of my fingers by thestrength of the spouting water. A biscuit would have been equallyunserviceable. What was I to do?

  In answer to this interrogatory, it occurred to me that I might caulkthe hole with a rag from my jacket. It was fustian, and would answeradmirably.

  No sooner thought of, than with my knife I cut a piece from the flap,and placing it over the hole, and punching it well in with the blade, Isucceeded in stopping the run, though I could perceive that it yetleaked a little. This, however, would not signify. I only intended thepiece of cloth for a temporary stopper, until I could cast around, andcontrive something better.

  I was once more free to reflect, and I need not tell you that myreflections soon guided me back to despair. To what purpose had I beensaved from death by thirst? It would only be a protraction of mymisery--a few hours more of wretched existence--for certainly I mustmeet death by hunger. There was no alternative. My little stock wasalmost consumed. Two biscuits, and a handful of cheese-crumbs, were allthat remained. I might make another meal upon them--a very slight one;and then--ay, then--hunger, gnawing hunger--weakness--feebleness--exhaustion--death!

  Strange to say that while suffering from thirst, I had not thought ofdying by hunger. It would be more exact to say I had _scarce_ thoughtof it. At intervals, some glimpses of such a fate had been before mymind's eye; but, as I have already stated, the stronger agony eclipsedthe weaker, and rendered it almost uncared for.

  Now, however, that all fears of the former were removed, the dread ofthe latter usurped its place. The little interval of buoyant feelingwhich I experienced, was merely the consequence of my unexpected relieffrom a painful suffering, and only lasted until calm reflectionreturned. In a few minutes it was over, and my apprehension of deathbecame as acute as ever. It is wrong to call it an apprehension, for itwas a positive certainty that stared me in the face. I had not givenfive minutes' thought to my situation, till I felt as certain of deathas I was that I still lived. There was no hope of escape from myprison--that I had given up long ago; and since I had nothing to eat,and not the slightest hope of obtaining anything, how was I to live? Itrequired no reasoning to find an answer to the question.

  Perish I must, and by hunger--there was no alternative, unless I choseto die by my own hand. I was now aware that I possessed the means toeffect the latter, but strange to say, the madness that would haveprompted me to it, during the first throes of my despair, was gone; andI could now contemplate death with a calmness that surprised me.

  Three modes of dying were possible, and within my reach--thirst, hunger,and suicide; and it may astonish you to know that the next thing I didwas to take into consideration which of the three it would be easiest toendure.

  This in reality was the leading idea in my mind as soon as I becameconvinced that I _must_ die. You need not be astonished. Only imagineyourselves in my situation, and you will perceive that such thoughtswere but natural.

  The first of these three I rejected at once--it _could not be theeasiest_. I had almost tried it, and my experience satisfied me thatexistence could scarce be ended in a less gentle way. Only upon the twolast, therefore, did my mind dwell; and for some time I sat coollyweighing the one against the other. Unfortunately, my young days hadbeen passed in a manner almost heathenish; and at that time I did noteven know that taking one's own life was a crime. This consideration,therefore, had no weight in the balance, and all I had to guide me wasthe conjecture as to which of the two modes of death would be leastpainful!

  And I sat for a long while--coolly and calmly I sat--engaged in thissingular contemplation.

  Good and evil must be instinctive. Something within told me it would bewrong to take away the life which God had given, even though the actmight save me from protracted pain.

  This thought triumphed; and, mustering all my courage, I resolved toawait the event, whatever time it might please God to put a terminationto my misery.