"Do you think there is
any chance of our getting out of this? Take it like a man. Is it
right for a man who has laughed at the world to begin to whine
when it becomes necessary to leave it?
"You know I'm with you; I'll fight, and what I find I'll take; in
the mean time I prefer not to furnish amusement for the devil.
There comes a time, I believe, when the stomach debases us
against our wills. May I die before I see it."
"But what are we to do?"
"That's more like it. There's only one hope. We must smell out
the pantry that holds the dried fish."
We talked no more, but set about bathing and dressing our wounds.
Gad, how that cold water took them! I was forced to set my teeth
deep into my lip to keep from crying out, and once or twice Harry
gave an involuntary grunt of pain that would not be suppressed.
When we had finished we waded far to the right to take a last
deep drink; then sought our clothing and prepared to start on our
all but hopeless search. We had become fairly well limbered up by
that time and set out with comparative ease.
We had gone perhaps a hundred yards, bearing off to the right,
when Harry gave a sudden cry: "My knife is gone!" and stopped
short.
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