The South Sea Whaler

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“Come, lad, let’s turn to and work,” said the mate.

The first thing they did was more completely to secure the spars and pieces of timber which formed the framework of their raft. They then took the wreck of the boat to pieces and nailed the planks down on the centre, so as to make a thick flooring, which enabled them to walk about and keep their feet out of the water, though it here and there still spouted up through the interstices of the planks. They also gave it greater buoyancy by sinking some of the casks they had secured under the framework, and firmly securing them. They then fixed two oars at either side of one end of the raft, and stayed them up, so that a sail might be hoisted between them. Some time was thus spent, for the sea tumbled them about a good deal, and it was no easy matter to work. It was necessary, indeed, to keep all the articles lashed together till they were wanted, or they would have been washed away.

They had been too eagerly employed to think of eating; at length, however, when their task was accomplished, Walter looked up and said, “Are you hungry, Mr Shobbrok?”

“I think you must be,” answered the mate. “We will see what the basket contains, for I tumbled into it whatever I could get hold of in a hurry, and I am greatly afraid that there is not as much food as we could wish for.”

The mate and Walter sat down on the centre of their raft and anxiously examined the contents of their basket. There was a small piece of cooked salt beef, a few biscuits, and part of a Dutch cheese; a scanty supply for two persons with little prospect of obtaining more till they could reach land. There were, however, several bottles, but what they contained it was difficult to say without opening them: one certainly had oil in it, two were full of red wine, and two others of a clear liquid, as it appeared when they were held up to the sun.

“I hope it may be water,” exclaimed Walter; “for I am very thirsty already.”

“I am sorry to say that it’s not,” answered the mate; “for they are tightly corked up. It must be gin, which is at all events better than nothing.”

“I would give both of them for a bottle of water,” said Walter.

“We must try to do without it, however, and endure thirst as long as we can,” said the mate. “Let us be thankful for what we have got.”

Walter and the mate each ate one of the biscuits and a small piece of the meat and cheese; but they did not take much meat, for fear of exciting thirst. Walter took a very little wine.