Page 544 - for-the-term-of-his-natural-life

er of hideous secrets. Vetch suggests that Oyster Bay cannot
be far to the eastward—the line of ocean is deceitfully
close—and though such a proceeding will take them out of
their course, they resolve to make for it. After hobbling five
miles, they seem no nearer than before, and, nigh dead with
fatigue and starvation, sink despairingly upon the ground.
Vetch thinks Gabbett’s eyes have a wolfish glare in them,
and instinctively draws off from him. Said Greenhill, in the
course of a dismal conversation, ‘I am so weak that I could
eat a piece of a man.’
On the tenth day Bodenham refuses to stir, and the oth-
ers, being scarce able to drag along their limbs, sit on the
ground about him. Greenhill, eyeing the prostrate man,
said slowly, ‘I have seen the same done before, boys, and it
tasted like pork.’
Vetch, hearing his savage comrade give utterance to a
thought all had secretly cherished, speaks out, crying, ‘It
would be murder to do it, and then, perhaps we couldn’t
eat it.’
‘Oh,’ said Gabbett, with a grin, ‘I’ll warrant you that, but
you must all have a hand in it.’
Gabbett, Sanders and Greenhill then go aside, and pres-
ently Sanders, coming to the Crow, said, ‘He consented to
act as flogger. He deserves it.’
‘So did Gabbett, for that matter,’ shudders Vetch.
‘Ay, but Bodenham’s feet are sore,’ said Sanders, ‘and ‘tis
a pity to leave him.’
Having no fire, they make a little breakwind; and Vetch,
half-dozing behind this at about three in the morning, hears