Assisted by Braid, he crawled to the fissure, and there endeavoured to pass through. It is true that he had wasted away terribly, but the opening was very narrow, and his frame was larger than his brother's.
For an hour he struggled vainly. At last, he gave it up.
"It is no good," said he. "I cannot do it. We are lost. Nothing remains but death."
They resigned themselves to their fate. They were far past all complaint. Even Klein was silent; he no longer moaned and deplored his unhappy lot. Even he had learnt to prepare himself for death.
Three more days passed, and at the end of that time Fernando himself lay upon the floor in a kind of faint.
It was bitterly cold. They had no fire. They had burned all their wood. Only a little water remained. The prospect before them was horrible to contemplate. They were destined to be driven mad by thirst.
For some time Harry walked backward and forward. Then fatigue overcame him, and, lying down upon the floor, he immediately fell asleep. When he awoke it was daylight. He went to the bucket of water to divide the little that remained into four equal parts. To his astonishment, he found that the bucket was empty.
He uttered a loud exclamation, which brought Braid to his elbow.
"What has happened?" asked Jim.
"Our last drop of water," said Harry, "has been stolen."