Tame as Trenck's
mouse, they stood in their holes peering at you like old grandfathers
in a doorway. Often they darted in upon us at meal-times, and nibbled
our food. The first time they approached Wymontoo, he was actually
frightened; but becoming accustomed to it, he soon got along with
them much better than the rest. With curious dexterity he seized the
animals by their legs, and flung them up the scuttle to find a watery
grave.
But I have a story of my own to tell about these rats. One day the
cabin steward made me a present of some molasses, which I was so
choice of that I kept it hid away in a tin can in the farthest corner
of my bunk.. Faring as we did, this molasses dropped upon a biscuit
was a positive luxury, which I shared with none but the doctor, and
then only in private. And sweet as the treacle was, how could bread
thus prepared and eaten in secret be otherwise than pleasant?
One night our precious can ran low, and in canting it over in the
dark, something beside the molasses slipped out. How long it had been
there, kind Providence never revealed; nor were we over anxious to
know; for we hushed up the bare thought as quickly as possible. The
creature certainly died a luscious death, quite equal to Clarence's
in the butt of Malmsey.
CHAPTER XI.
