by in person while, to each man including himself, the meager allowance for each day was measured out.
The one who fared worst upon the voyage was the old Chinaman. He suffered hideously from seasickness for the first few days, although he made shift to stagger on deck, to haul at ropes and to give such service as his feeble strength allowed. When the water failed, he seemed, somehow, to be suffering far more than any of the rest. On the second day after the mishap to the casks, he came to the captain's cabin, utterly refusing to be driven away. With trembling yellow hands he drew the pine tree from beneath his rags and set it on the table.
"After I die," he requested calmly, "will you not in justice see that my share of water still goes to keeping my ancestors' tree alive?"
It seemed that his whole allowance of drinking water had been poured into the pot, since he preferred to perish himself rather than permit his great treasure to droop and wither.
Humphrey argued and commanded, but to no purpose. The Chinaman merely shook his head obstinately and vowed by all his gods that he would not drink while his tree was thirsty. At last, however, a compromise was made. The little pine was to remain on the Captain's table and every day, in Humphrey's presence, the Chinaman was to drink
