86 SPORT, TRAVEL, AND ADVENTURE 



impulse was to tear at the canvas and bellow for water. 

 But had we left Suez behind? This, perhaps, was only 

 the Bitter Lakes? Or, if we had reached the Red Sea, 

 the pilot might still be on board ! To be set ashore 

 now was a fate far more to be dreaded than during 

 the first hours of my torture, for it meant an endless 

 tramp through the burning desert back to Port Said. 



I held my peace and listened intently for any word 

 that might indicate our whereabouts. None came, but 

 the setting sun brought relief, and falling darkness 

 found my thirst somewhat abated. The motion of the 

 ship lacked the pitch of the open sea. I resolved to 

 take no chances with victory so close at hand. 



The night wore on. Less fearful now of discovery, 

 I moved for the first time in thirty hours, and, rolling 

 slowly on my side, fell asleep. It was broad daylight 

 when I awoke to the sounding of two bells. The ship 

 was rolling in no uncertain manner. I tugged at the 

 cord that bound the boat cover and peered out. For 

 some moments barely a muscle of my body responded 

 to the command of the will. Even when I had wormed 

 myself out I came near losing my grip on the edge of 

 the boat before my feet touched the rail. Once on 

 deck, I waited to be discovered. The frock-coat 

 in the lifeboat. No landlubber could have mistaken 

 me for a passenger now. 



Calmly I walked aft and descended to the promenade 

 deck. Some time I paced the deck with majestic 

 tread without catching sight of a white face. At last 

 a diminutive son of Britain clambered unsteadily up 

 the companionway, clinging tenaciously to a pot of tea. 



' Here, boy ! ' I called. ' Who's on the bridge 

 the mate? ' 



