thing in the world, the thing that would save my life. This happened time and again. How true it is that necessity is the mother of invention, how very true. And what if the supplies were at the bow, beneath the tarpaulin?
I turned and crawled back. I felt like a dried-out lizard . I pushed down on the tarpaulin. It was tautly stretched.
If I unrolled it, I would give myself access to what supplies might be stored below. But that meant creating an opening onto Richard Parker’s den. There was no question. Thirst pushed me on.
I unrolled it a little. Immediately I was rewarded. The bow was like the stern; it had an end bench. And upon it, just a few inches from the stem, a hasp glittered like a diamond.
There was the outline of a lid. My heart began to pound. I unrolled the tarpaulin further. I peeked under.
The lid was shaped like a rounded-out triangle, three feet wide and two feet deep. At that moment I perceived an orange mass. I jerked my head back. But the orange wasn’t moving and didn’t look right.
I looked again. It wasn’t a tiger. It was a life jacket. There were a number of life jackets at the back of Richard Parker’s den.
A shiver went through my body. Between the life jackets, partially, as if through some leaves, I had my first, unambiguous , clear-headed glimpse of Richard Parker. It was his haunches I could see, and part of his back. Tawny, striped and simply enormous.
He was facing the stern, lying flat on his stomach. He was still except for the breathing motion of his sides. I blinked in disbelief at how close he was. He was right there, two feet beneath me.
Stretching, I could have pinched his bottom. And between us there was nothing but a thin tarpaulin, easily got round. “God preserve me!” No supplication was ever more passionate yet more gently carried by the breath. I lay absolutely motionless.
I had to have water, I brought my hand down and