Of course, the first idea was, that the water should from this time forth be measured out: but the question was, how much at a time? and how often should the rations be issued? This required a nice calculation to be made; and in this calculation all had the greatest interest. If too large a quantity were to be allowed daily, then the stock might be exhausted before relief should be near, and they must perish all the same. How long would a hundred gallons last? and at what rate might they use it? These were the two questions of importance.
These calculations were easy enough. There were just forty of the crew—officers included—and these last were now to be put on equal rations with the rest; for, in this crisis of peril, the government of the Pandora had suddenly assumed the form of a republic. Both captain and mate had lost their authority, and hereafter everything was to be conducted on the commonwealth system—share and share alike.
There were forty then in all, and, as near as could be ascertained, about one hundred gallons of water.
After all, the prospects was not so bad—so thought they, as they hurriedly ran over the calculation. One hundred gallons to forty men would be two and a half gallons, or twenty pints to each man—which would give a pint a day for twenty days, and upon a pint a day they could subsist. In twenty days, and less time than that, they were confident of coming within sight of land. Even should they not reach a haven before the twenty days were expired—should they be delayed by calms, or contrary winds, they might reduce the ration still lower, and by so doing extend the time. Half a pint a day would enable them to exist; and even far less in case of extreme necessity. After all, their prospect was not so perilous as they had at first judged it to be, and they began to recover from the shook which they had received—for on the announcement that there was only one hundred gallons left the quantity had appeared as nothing to them, accustomed as they had been to drinking and wasting that much daily. The calculation, however, showed that, with this quantity they might make shift without any great deprivation, until land, or perhaps a ship, might appear in sight.
With regard to the latter contingency, they had already formed a purpose. If any ship came in view—excepting, of course, a ship of war—they had come to the determination to chase and board her; and if a supply of water was denied them they would take it from the vessel nolens volens. Perhaps, even more than water—for both captain and crew were now so desperate that they would not have stuck at anything; very little provocation would have transformed the slaver into a pirate.
Such were the views of the Pandora’s crew, and such their determinations in regard to the use of the water. Each man was to be allowed a pint per diem; and, in case of any obstruction that might prolong the voyage, the ration was to be reduced still lower—even to a single glass a day, if this should become necessary.
Chapter Forty Five.
During all these deliberations not one word was said about the five hundred unfortunate wretches between decks! It is a question whether even a thought was spent upon them, except by myself, perhaps by Ben Brace, and most likely the captain of the Pandora. But if the skipper thought of them, it was from no motives of humanity. Profit and loss were the only considerations that had any interest for him, and if he was thinking of the poor creatures with regret, it was not any regret for the horrid fate they were likely to meet with, but solely on account of the pecuniary loss he would sustain by their destruction!