From the stateroom I turned into the pantry. Not a sign of
provisions of any sort could I discover, either here or in any
other part of the ship. The galley fireplace was empty of fuel, a
few pieces of charred wood were the only remains of a fire.
Before leaving the ship I went forward into the fore cabin. A dog
was stretched out as though asleep at the foot of the ladder, and
several sailors lay in their hammocks. They also were reposing in
the sleep of death. They all appeared to have died very peacefully;
but whether from the want of food alone or, as I have since thought
possible, from want of air, being shut up in the heart of an
iceberg, I had no means of knowing.
I did not further continue my search of the vessel that night, but
went on board the Falcon, feeling sick and nervous. I could eat
nothing; but having taken a drink of hot coffee, I sat before a
good fire, thinking over what I had just seen, and planning what I
should do.
If any one of those poor men could, in his dire need, have had a
drink of my coffee, or a spoonful of the good porridge I had made
but could not myself eat, heavens! how he would have relished it!
Here was I, with a schooner well loaded with provisions. Some
strange fate had brought me to this ship. But all that I could have
supplied was useless to the sufferers now.
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