Chapter 5

For some minutes after the cook had left the forecastle, Augustus
abandoned himself to despair, never hoping to leave the berth
alive. He now came to the resolution of acquainting the first of
the men who should come down with my situation, thinking it
better to let me take my chance with the mutineers than perish of
thirst in the hold,—for it had been ten days since I was first
imprisoned, and my jug of water was not a plentiful supply even
for four. As he was thinking on this subject, the idea came all
at once into his head that it might be possible to communicate
with me by the way of the main hold. In any other circumstances,
the difficulty and hazard of the undertaking would have prevented
him from attempting it; but now he had, at all events, little
prospect of life, and consequently little to lose, he bent his
whole mind, therefore, upon the task.

His handcuffs were the first consideration. At first he saw no
method of removing them, and feared that he should thus be
baffled in the very outset; but upon a closer scrutiny he
discovered that the irons could be slipped off and on at
pleasure, with very little effort or inconvenience, merely by
squeezing his hands through them,—this species of manacle being
altogether ineffectual in confining young persons, in whom the
smaller bones readily yield to pressure. He now untied his feet,
and, leaving the cord in such a manner that it could easily be
readjusted in the event of any person’s coming down, proceeded to
examine the bulkhead where it joined the berth. The partition
here was of soft pine board, an inch thick, and he saw that he
should have little trouble in cutting his way through. A voice
was now heard at the forecastle companion-way, and he had just
time to put his right hand into its handcuff (the left had not
been removed) and to draw the rope in a slipknot around his
ankle, when Dirk Peters came below, followed by Tiger, who
immediately leaped into the berth and lay down. The dog had been
brought on board by Augustus, who knew my attachment to the
animal, and thought it would give me pleasure to have him with me
during the voyage. He went up to our house for him immediately
after first taking me into the hold, but did not think of
mentioning the circumstance upon his bringing the watch. Since
the mutiny, Augustus had not seen him before his appearance with
Dirk Peters, and had given him up for lost, supposing him to have
been thrown overboard by some of the malignant villains belonging
to the mate’s gang. It appeared afterward that he had crawled
into a hole beneath a whale-boat, from which, not having room to
turn round, he could not extricate himself. Peters at last let
him out, and, with a species of good feeling which my friend knew
well how to appreciate, had now brought him to him in the
forecastle as a companion, leaving at the same time some salt
junk and potatoes, with a can of water, he then went on deck,
promising to come down with something more to eat on the next
day.

When he had gone, Augustus freed both hands from the manacles and
unfastened his feet. He then turned down the head of the mattress
on which he had been lying, and with his penknife (for the
ruffians had not thought it worth while to search him) commenced
cutting vigorously across one of the partition planks, as closely
as possible to the floor of the berth. He chose to cut here,
because, if suddenly interrupted, he would be able to conceal
what had been done by letting the head of the mattress fall into
its proper position. For the remainder of the day, however, no
disturbance occurred, and by night he had completely divided the
plank. It should here be observed that none of the crew occupied
the forecastle as a sleeping-place, living altogether in the
cabin since the mutiny, drinking the wines and feasting on the
sea-stores of Captain Barnard, and giving no more heed than was
absolutely necessary to the navigation of the brig. These
circumstances proved fortunate both for myself and Augustus; for,
had matters been otherwise, he would have found it impossible to
reach me. As it was, he proceeded with confidence in his design.
It was near daybreak, however, before he completed the second
division of the board (which was about a foot above the first
cut), thus making an aperture quite large enough to admit his
passage through with facility to the main orlop deck. Having got
here, he made his way with but little trouble to the lower main
hatch, although in so doing he had to scramble over tiers of
oil-casks piled nearly as high as the upper deck, there being
barely room enough left for his body. Upon reaching the hatch he
found that Tiger had followed him below, squeezing between two
rows of the casks. It was now too late, however, to attempt
getting to me before dawn, as the chief difficulty lay in passing
through the close stowage in the lower hold. He therefore
resolved to return, and wait till the next night. With this
design, he proceeded to loosen the hatch, so that he might have
as little detention as possible when he should come again. No
sooner had he loosened it than Tiger sprang eagerly to the small
opening produced, snuffed for a moment, and then uttered a long
whine, scratching at the same time, as if anxious to remove the
covering with his paws. There could be no doubt, from his
behaviour, that he was aware of my being in the hold, and
Augustus thought it possible that he would be able to get to me
if he put him down. He now hit upon the expedient of sending the
note, as it was especially desirable that I should make no
attempt at forcing my way out at least under existing
circumstances, and there could be no certainty of his getting to
me himself on the morrow as he intended. After-events proved how
fortunate it was that the idea occurred to him as it did; for,
had it not been for the receipt of the note, I should undoubtedly
have fallen upon some plan, however desperate, of alarming the
crew, and both our lives would most probably have been sacrificed
in consequence.

Having concluded to write, the difficulty was now to procure the
materials for so doing. An old toothpick was soon made into a
pen; and this by means of feeling altogether, for the
between-decks was as dark as pitch. Paper enough was obtained
from the back of a letter—a duplicate of the forged letter from
Mr. Ross. This had been the original draught; but the handwriting
not being sufficiently well imitated, Augustus had written
another, thrusting the first, by good fortune, into his
coat-pocket, where it was now most opportunely discovered. Ink
alone was thus wanting, and a substitute was immediately found
for this by means of a slight incision with the pen-knife on the
back of a finger just above the nail—a copious flow of blood
ensuing, as usual, from wounds in that vicinity. The note was now
written, as well as it could be in the dark and under the
circumstances. It briefly explained that a mutiny had taken
place; that Captain Barnard was set adrift; and that I might
expect immediate relief as far as provisions were concerned, but
must not venture upon making any disturbance. It concluded with
these words: “_I have scrawled this with blood—your life depends
upon lying close._”

This slip of paper being tied upon the dog, he was now put down
the hatchway, and Augustus made the best of his way back to the
forecastle, where he found no reason to believe that any of the
crew had been in his absence. To conceal the hole in the
partition, he drove his knife in just above it, and hung up a
pea-jacket which he found in the berth. His handcuffs were then
replaced, and also the rope around his ankles.

These arrangements were scarcely completed when Dirk Peters came
below, very drunk, but in excellent humour, and bringing with him
my friend’s allowance of provision for the day. This consisted of
a dozen large Irish potatoes roasted, and a pitcher of water. He
sat for some time on a chest by the berth, and talked freely
about the mate and the general concerns of the brig. His
demeanour was exceedingly capricious, and even grotesque. At one
time Augustus was much alarmed by odd conduct. At last, however,
he went on deck, muttering a promise to bring his prisoner a good
dinner on the morrow. During the day two of the crew (harpooners)
came down, accompanied by the cook, all three in nearly the last
stage of intoxication. Like Peters, they made no scruple of
talking unreservedly about their plans. It appeared that they
were much divided among themselves as to their ultimate course,
agreeing in no point, except the attack on the ship from the Cape
Verd Islands, with which they were in hourly expectation of
meeting. As far as could be ascertained, the mutiny had not been
brought about altogether for the sake of booty; a private pique
of the chief mate’s against Captain Barnard having been the main
instigation. There now seemed to be two principal factions among
the crew—one headed by the mate, the other by the cook. The
former party were for seizing the first suitable vessel which
should present itself, and equipping it at some of the West India
Islands for a piratical cruise. The latter division, however,
which was the stronger, and included Dirk Peters among its
partisans, were bent upon pursuing the course originally laid out
for the brig into the South Pacific; there either to take whale,
or act otherwise, as circumstances should suggest. The
representations of Peters, who had frequently visited these
regions, had great weight, apparently, with the mutineers,
wavering, as they were, between half-engendered notions of profit
and pleasure. He dwelt on the world of novelty and amusement to
be found among the innumerable islands of the Pacific, on the
perfect security and freedom from all restraint to be enjoyed,
but, more particularly, on the deliciousness of the climate, on
the abundant means of good living, and on the voluptuous beauty
of the women. As yet, nothing had been absolutely determined
upon; but the pictures of the hybrid line-manager were taking
strong hold upon the ardent imaginations of the seamen, and there
was every possibility that his intentions would be finally
carried into effect.

The three men went away in about an hour, and no one else entered
the forecastle all day. Augustus lay quiet until nearly night. He
then freed himself from the rope and irons, and prepared for his
attempt. A bottle was found in one of the berths, and this he
filled with water from the pitcher left by Peters, storing his
pockets at the same time with cold potatoes. To his great joy he
also came across a lantern, with a small piece of tallow candle
in it. This he could light at any moment, as he had in his
possession a box of phosphorus matches. When it was quite dark,
he got through the hole in the bulkhead, having taken the
precaution to arrange the bedclothes in the berth so as to convey
the idea of a person covered up. When through, he hung up the
pea-jacket on his knife, as before, to conceal the aperture—this
manoeuvre being easily effected, as he did not readjust the piece
of plank taken out until afterward. He was now on the main orlop
deck, and proceeded to make his way, as before, between the upper
deck and the oil-casks to the main hatchway. Having reached this,
he lit the piece of candle, and descended, groping with extreme
difficulty among the compact stowage of the hold. In a few
moments he became alarmed at the insufferable stench and the
closeness of the atmosphere. He could not think it possible that
I had survived my confinement for so long a period breathing so
oppressive an air. He called my name repeatedly, but I made him
no reply, and his apprehensions seemed thus to be confirmed. The
brig was rolling violently, and there was so much noise in
consequence, that it was useless to listen for any weak sound,
such as those of my breathing or snoring. He threw open the
lantern, and held it as high as possible, whenever an opportunity
occurred, in order that, by observing the light, I might, if
alive, be aware that succor was approaching. Still nothing was
heard from me, and the supposition of my death began to assume
the character of certainty. He determined, nevertheless, to force
a passage, if possible, to the box, and at least ascertain beyond
a doubt the truth of his surmises. He pushed on for some time in
a most pitiable state of anxiety, until, at length, he found the
pathway utterly blocked up, and that there was no possibility of
making any farther way by the course in which he had set out.
Overcome now by his feelings, he threw himself among the lumber
in despair, and wept like a child. It was at this period that he
heard the crash occasioned by the bottle which I had thrown down.
Fortunate, indeed, was it that the incident occurred—for, upon
this incident, trivial as it appears, the thread of my destiny
depended. Many years elapsed, however, before I was aware of this
fact. A natural shame and regret for his weakness and indecision
prevented Augustus from confiding to me at once what a more
intimate and unreserved communion afterward induced him to
reveal. Upon finding his further progress in the hold impeded by
obstacles which he could not overcome, he had resolved to abandon
his attempt at reaching me, and return at once to the forecastle.
Before condemning him entirely on this head, the harassing
circumstances which embarrassed him should be taken into
consideration. The night was fast wearing away, and his absence
from the forecastle might be discovered; and indeed would
necessarily be so, if he should fail to get back to the berth by
daybreak. His candle was expiring in the socket, and there would
be the greatest difficulty in retracing his way to the hatchway
in the dark. It must be allowed, too, that he had every good
reason to believe me dead; in which event no benefit could result
to me from his reaching the box, and a world of danger would be
encountered to no purpose by himself. He had repeatedly called,
and I had made him no answer. I had been now eleven days and
nights with no more water than that contained in the jug which he
had left with me—a supply which it was not at all probable I had
hoarded in the beginning of my confinement, as I had every cause
to expect a speedy release. The atmosphere of the hold, too, must
have appeared to him, coming from the comparatively open air of
the steerage, of a nature absolutely poisonous, and by far more
intolerable than it had seemed to me upon my first taking up my
quarters in the box—the hatchways at that time having been
constantly open for many months previous. Add to these
considerations that of the scene of bloodshed and terror so
lately witnessed by my friend; his confinement, privations, and
narrow escapes from death, together with the frail and equivocal
tenure by which he still existed—circumstances all so well
calculated to prostrate every energy of mind—and the reader will
be easily brought, as I have been, to regard his apparent falling
off in friendship and in faith with sentiments rather of sorrow
than of anger.

The crash of the bottle was distinctly heard, yet Augustus was
not sure that it proceeded from the hold. The doubt, however, was
sufficient inducement to persevere. He clambered up nearly to the
orlop deck by means of the stowage, and then, watching for a lull
in the pitchings of the vessel, he called out to me in as loud a
tone as he could command, regardless, for the moment, of being
overheard by the crew. It will be remembered that on this
occasion the voice reached me, but I was so entirely overcome by
violent agitation as to be incapable of reply. Confident, now,
that his worst apprehensions were well founded, he descended,
with a view of getting back to the forecastle without loss of
time. In his haste some small boxes were thrown down, the noise
occasioned by which I heard, as will be recollected. He had made
considerable progress on his return when the fall of the knife
again caused him to hesitate. He retraced his steps immediately,
and, clambering up the stowage a second time, called out my name,
loudly as before, having watched for a lull. This time I found
voice to answer. Overjoyed at discovering me to be still alive,
he now resolved to brave every difficulty and danger in reaching
me. Having extricated himself as quickly as possible from the
labyrinth of lumber by which he was hemmed in, he at length
struck into an opening which promised better, and finally, after
a series of struggles, arrived at the box in a state of utter
exhaustion.