A week had passed since the culling of the cargo had reduced Laurent and the other donkeys by four.
He hadn't eaten in days. He didn't have the strength and each day he felt more of what remained ebbing.
Dimly, he became aware that the human crew had sickened, too. First one hand, then the other, didn't show up in the mornings to clean out the hold. Other men, regular sailors, cursing at being relegated to the filthy chore of cleaning up after donkeys, many of them sick, showed up instead.
They cursed when he refused to eat. They cursed his timidity at the bucket. "Drink, damn you." The angry man pushed the donkey's snout into the bucket.
In his flailing, he inhaled some of the water through his nostrils, which provoked paroxysms of strangled coughing.
"Don't want it? More for men who deserve it." Looking around, making sure he wasn't witnessed, he tilted the bucket and drank greedily. The man put in charge of the care of the equine cargo drank the entire ration of water.
The donkey tried to bray, but produced something like a feeble bleating. Laurent didn't even know why he was trying to be heard.
He heard a splashing and soon realized his cock had released a weak stream.
Unfortunately, the man's boots had been in the way. "You stupid ass!" Not content to berate the animal, he grabbed a short stick and struck Laurent's hide. He landed vicious blows on his flanks, his rump, his withers. Each blow produced a short gasp/wheeze.
Another man finally restrained the one using the cudgel on the ass. "Don't be crazy."
"The filthy beast pissed on my boots!"
"It's just a dumb animal," the other man observed. "You think that will matter to the captain. Just do your job."
The man glared, but he lowered the wooden stick and walked off.
"Don't leave." Laurent's thoughts were wretched and confused. "There's a bag of oats. Where are the oats?"
He tried to shake his head, but he couldn't muster the strength.