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Updated: June 21, 2025
The ordinary seaman made no reply, but, stepping over to the water-cask, added with great care a little water. "Here's your 'ealth, chaps," he said, good-naturedly, as he drank, "and may you never want a drink." "You've never drunk all that, Tim?" said Mr. Jones, anxiously. Tim shook his head.
The morning sun, pushing up past the cañon-rim, picked out the details of the camp one by one the smouldering fire of cedar wood, the packs, saddles and ropes, the water-cask, the lazy burros waiting for the sun to warm them to action, the blankets and sheepskin bedding, and farther down the cañon a still figure standing on a slight rise of ground and gazing into space the figure of José de la Crux Montoya, the sheep-herder whom Roth had said feared no man and was a dead shot.
The skipper looked at him fiercely, and then sat down wearily on the hatches with his hands between his knees, rising, after a time, to get the dipper and drink copiously from the water-cask. Then, replacing it with a sigh, he bade the mate a surly good-night and went below.
The Gehenna went to the bottom and was never seen again, and when the roll was called it was found that all who had set out upon her had returned in safety save Shylock, Kidd, Sir Henry Morgan, and Abeuchapeta; but even they were not lost, for, five weeks later, these four worthies were found early one morning drifting slowly up the river Styx, gazing anxiously out from the top of a water-cask and yelling lustily for help.
"We are all of us, to a man, native-born islanders, without a drop of foreign blood among us; not so much as a Scotchman or an Irishman in the ship. Let us therefore look into the philosophy of this affair, with that sort of judgment which becomes our breeding. In the first place, here is honest Nicholas Nichols slips from this here water-cask, and breaks me a leg!
The diary ends abruptly, A week later the engineer and skipper of the little tug, venturing across the sands in the hope of meeting the party returning, found Halloran's body by the side of the water-cask. Near by lay the fatal pocket-book. But the diamonds had gone. This tale was told me over a camp-fire in lonely Bushmanland.
Heatherbloom resumed the task of porter; his next burden the water-cask was the heaviest of all. He struggled with it and once nearly went down, so tired was he, but he got it ashore, and the basket of biscuits, too, and some other things. The boat, floating more lightly, he now pulled to the strand; then he took out the spar and the sail.
Meanwhile a certain Slave, with the legs of a grasshopper, came, as she was wont, to the fountain, to fill her water-cask.
I walked up to the water-cask as if it had been an old friend, with delight, and took a draught of water. It was cool and refreshing, and revived me greatly. I felt hungry; I had hoped never again to eat another rat, but the keenness of my appetite overcame my scruples, and I took one out of the bag. I even thought of placing the bag ready to catch some more.
When all was thus in readiness, filling my water-cask, I bound it thereon, and so brought it to the grotto with such ease, comparatively, as quite charmed me. Having succeeded so well in the first essay, I no sooner unloaded but down went I again with my cart, or truckle rather, to the lake, and brought from thence on it my other chest, which I had left entire.
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