I felt hungry; I took up a red herring from one of the baskets, and tore it to pieces with my teeth. I looked around me in every quarter to see if there was any vessel in sight, but there was nothing to be seen but now and then a screaming sea-gull. I tried to rouse my companion by kicking her with my foot; I did not succeed in waking her up, but she turned round on her back, and, her hair falling from her face, discovered the features of a young and pretty person, apparently not more than nineteen or twenty years old; her figure was slight and well formed.
Young as I was, I thought it a pity that such a nice-looking person—for she still was so, although in a state of disorder, and very dirty—should be so debased by intoxication; and as I looked at the bladder, still half full of spirits I seized it with an intention to throw it overboard, when I paused at the recollection that it had probably saved my life during the night, and might yet be required.
I did not like to alter the course of the boat, although I perceived that we were running fast from the land; for although the sea had gone down considerably, there was still too much for the boat to be put broadside to it. I cannot say that I was unhappy; I found my situation so very much improved to what it was during the darkness of the night. The sun shone bright, and I felt its warmth. I had no idea of being lost—death did not enter my thoughts. There was plenty to eat, and some vessel would certainly pick us up. Nevertheless, I said my prayers, more devoutly than I usually did.
About noon, as near as I could guess, the tide changed again, and as the wind had lulled very much, there was little or no swell. I thought that, now that the motion was not so great, we might possibly ship the foremast and make some little sail upon the boat; and I tried again more earnestly to rouse up my companion; after a few not very polite attempts, I succeeded in ascertaining that she was alive.
“Be quiet, Jim,” said she, with her eyes still closed; “it’s not five bells yet.”
Another kick or two, and she turned herself round and stared wildly.
“Jim,” said she, rubbing her eyes, and then she looked about her, and at once she appeared to remember what had passed; she shrieked, and covered her face up with her hands.
“I thought it was a dream, and was going to tell Jim all about it, at breakfast,” said she, sorrowfully, “but it’s all true—true as gospel. What will become of me? We are lost, lost, lost!”
“We are not lost, but we should have been lost this night if I had been as drunk as you have been,” replied I; “I’ve had work enough to keep the boat above water, I can tell you.”
“That’s truth,” replied she, rising up and taking a seat upon the thwart of the boat. “God, forgive me, poor wretch that I am: what will Jim think, and what will he say, when he sees my best bonnet in such a pickle?”