Chapter 41

CHAPTER XLI.

JANUARY 8th.--All night I remained by the side of the poor
fellow's corpse, and several times Miss Herbey joined me in my
mournful watch.

Before daylight dawned the body was quite cold, and as I knew
there must be no delay in throwing it overboard, I asked Curtis
to assist me in the sad office. The body was frightfully
emaciated, and I had every hope that it would not float.

As soon as it was quite light, taking every precaution that no
one should see what we were about, Curtis and I proceeded to our
melancholy task. We took a few articles from the lieutenant's
pockets, which we purposed, if either of us should survive, to
remit to his mother. But as we wrapped him in his tattered
garments that would have to suffice for his winding-sheet, I
started back with a thrill of horror. The right foot had gone,
leaving the leg a bleeding stump!

No doubt that, overcome by fatigue, I must have fallen asleep for
an interval during the night, and some one had taken advantage of
my slumber to mutilate the corpse. But who could have been
guilty of so fowl a deed! Curtis looked around with anger
flashing In his eye; but all seemed as usual, and the silence was
only broken by a few groans of agony.

But there was no time to be lost; perhaps we were already
observed, and more horrible scenes might be likely to occur.
Curtis said a few short prayers, and we cast the body into the
sea. It sank immediately.

"They are feeding the sharks well, and no mistake," said a voice
behind me.

I turned round quickly, and found that it was Jynxtrop who had
spoken.

As the boatswain now approached, I asked him whether he thought
it possible that any of the wretched men could have taken the
dead man's foot.

"Oh yes, I dare say," he replied, in a significant tone "and
perhaps they thought they were right."

"Right! what do you mean?" I exclaimed.

"Well, sir," he said coldly, "isn't it better to eat a dead man
than a living one?"

I was at a loss to comprehend him, and, turning away, laid myself
down at the end of the raft.

Towards eleven o'clock, a most suspicious incident occurred. The
boatswain, who had cast his lines early in the morning, caught
three large cod, each more than thirty inches long, of the
species which, when dried, is known by the name of stock-fish.
Scarcely had he hauled them on board, when the sailors made a
dash at them, and it was with the utmost difficulty that Curtis,
Falsten, and myself could restore order, so that we might divide
the fish into equal portions. Three cod were not much amongst
fourteen starving persons, but, small as the quantity was, it was
allotted in strictly equal shares. Most