But waiting was far from agreeable. Had he been sure of eventually escaping, it would have been different, but the doubt of this rendered his mind extremely uneasy.
Nearly an hour passed. It grew darker, and one by one the stars came out.
Ceaselessly the water tumbled and roared, as if it knew not the meaning of rest.
As we know, he had had but little sleep the night before, and now he was fagged out. Several times his eyes closed and his head nodded, but he always came to his senses.
"It will never do to go to sleep here?" he exclaimed. "Guess I'll try shouting. It will keep me awake, if nothing else."
He used his lungs to their full capacity, yet his voice was no stronger than the bleating of a lamb in a hurricane.
"No one will ever hear me," was his dismal comment, and then he stopped.
Another hour slowly passed.
To Jack it seemed like an age. He was getting benumbed by the cold water, and his limbs were stiff and sore. How long would it last? How long could it last?
Another hour!