As for this Grimalson, I didn't reckon him worth powder
and shot. I knew that he would bluster before the men, to save his
face, and then climb down. To secure the water on board was such an
obvious measure that, bluster as he might, he couldn't miss coming to
it finally. . . . I heard Jarvis explaining that an empty pork-tub,
with a tarpauling inside of it, would hold quite a deal of the
rainwater washing above the bottom-boards. I took no more trouble
than to turn my back on Grimalson, who was arguing that all this
water was mucking the dry provisions.
"'They're pretty well mucked already, sir, by the looks of 'em,'
answered Jarvis: 'all but the canned meats, and few enough they are.
Five cans, as I counted the last stowage.'
"'Oh, very well, then,' came the order which I had known to be
inevitable. 'Run a tarpauling inside of that cask--and bale, you,
Prout and Martinez!'
"And so, behind my back and almost as I shrugged my shoulders--so,
within twenty minutes of the sunrise that told us we were eight human
beings isolated from all help but that which we could afford to one
another--in a casual, unpremeditated stroke the curse fell on us.
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