“At last the captain consented to the death of his favourite, and poor Trojan was led up on deck to be put to death. Before he was killed, we all of us took an anxious look round the horizon, to ascertain that no sail was near. We would gladly, even then, have saved the poor dog’s life. The cravings of hunger soon, however, drove all feelings of remorse from our bosoms. The faithful brute looked up into our faces, and his eyes said as clearly as if he had spoken the words, ‘I know that it is necessary—be quick about it.’ How carefully we husbanded every drop of the blood! The mate got a teaspoon, and served it out with that measure full to each of us at a time, while the flesh was reserved for another day.
“I cannot describe how those wretched days passed away. Except the mate and three others of us, no one could even stand. The captain lay in his cot growing worse and worse. I was on deck one afternoon with Mr Carr, steering and keeping the ship’s head to the eastward, when we were startled by a faint shriek from the cabin. Presently afterwards the captain rushed on deck.
“‘Mutiny! mutiny!’ he exclaimed, frantically flourishing his arms about. ‘But I’ll take care that no one takes the ship from me. I’ll shoot the first man who approaches me, be he whom he may. See here here!’
“He drew a brace of pistols from his bosom, and presented them at us. Happily, one missed fire; the ball from the other passed close to Mr Carr’s head.
“‘That’s right, sir,’ said Mr Carr, quite coolly. ‘Now you’ve quelled the mutiny, let’s go below.’
“He signed to one of the other men, who crawled aft to help me to steer, while he took the captain below. This outbreak was the last flaring up of the poor man’s almost exhausted strength. His wife watched him as the flame of life sank lower and lower in the socket; and two days after that, when I went into the cabin, I found her fainting beside him, and he was dead. She entreated that the body might be allowed to remain in the cabin another day; but the next she allowed the mate and me to remove it, and to commit it to the sea.
“Oh, how sad and melancholy were those long, dreary nights, as we stood at the helm, the gale howling over our heads, the ship groaning and creaking, and the seas roaring up astern and threatening every moment to wash us from our uncertain support—darkness above us, darkness on every side!
“At last not a particle of food remained. Mr Carr made another search into every cranny of the ship. Some grease was found; it served to keep life in us another day. Then the dreadful information spread among us that there was nothing else. Relief must come, or we must die.
“‘Others have lived under like circumstances,’ said one, looking up under his scowling brow.
“‘Ay, if it’s necessary, it must be done,’ hissed another.