I thought of this before pushing it
into its place, and carried a supply of the biscuits inside--enough to
last me for a week or two. When these should be eaten, I could remove
the web; and, before any rats could come in to trouble me, provide
myself for another week.

It occupied me full two hours, in completing all these arrangements, for
I worked with great care to make my fortress walls secure. It was no
play I was performing. It was a matter that possessed the serious
interest of my life's safety.

When I had made all tight to my perfect satisfaction, I lay down to
sleep again--this time _quite certain_ that I should get something more
than a mere "cat-nap."

CHAPTER FORTY TWO.

A SOUND SLEEP AT LAST.

I was not disappointed. I slept for a period of twelve hours'
duration--not without many fearful dreams--terrible encounters with
crabs and rats. So far as the comfort of the thing was concerned, I
might almost as well have been awake, and actually engaged in such
conflicts. My sleep was far from refreshing, notwithstanding its long
continuance; but it was pleasant on awaking to find that my unwelcome
visitors had not been back again, and that no breach had been made in my
defences. I groped all around, and found that everything was just as I
had left it.

For several days, I felt comparatively at my ease. I had no longer any
apprehension of danger from the rats, though I knew they were still
close to me. When the weather was calm (and it continued so for a long
while), I could hear the animals outside, busy at whatever they had to
do, rattling about among the packages of merchandise, and occasionally
uttering spiteful shrieks, as if they were engaged in combats with each
other. But their voices no longer terrified me, as I was pretty sure
they could not get nearer me. Whenever, for any purpose, I removed one
of the cloth pieces with which my little cabin was "chinked," I took
good care to return it to its place again, before any of the animals
could know that the aperture was open.

I experienced a good deal of discomfort from being thus shut up. The
weather was exceedingly warm; and as not a breath of air could reach me,
or circulate through the apartment, it felt at times as hot as the
inside of a baker's oven. Very likely we were sailing under the line,
or, at all events, in some part of the tropical latitudes; and this
would account for the calmness of the atmosphere, since, in these