[CHAPTER IV]
THE RAFT
What were the occupants of the boats to do? What would become of them? Twenty-six men in boats only meant to accommodate eighteen at most, and these with but little food or water, no change of clothes, few comforts of any kind, an insufficiency even of necessaries,—and they were within the tropics.
The sun rose up in fierce majesty, and blazed down upon them like fire itself. Some had no hats, and suffered terribly from this cause. The sea was like molten metal heaving close around them; the crowd impeded all proper use of the oars or sailing gear. Of this last the captain's gig had none.
The men looked at each other with haggard eyes, despair in their faces. It would require but a slight touch to make them abandon themselves to hopelessness, losing heart altogether, and becoming demoralised.
They must be induced to do something, to strike a blow for their own salvation, or all would be lost.
Rogers was the right man in the right place here. Out broke his cheerful voice—
"Three cheers for the last of the old Pelican, my boys! She dies gloriously after all. No ship-breaker's yard for the gallant old girl!"
He led the cheers, which were echoed but faintly.
"'Tis well," pursued he; "'tis a crowning mercy that we are in the current which sets into the Barogna Flats. It will bear us along softly and well, barring any more cyclones, but it is not likely that we shall have another of those wild customers now. It has swept over for the time, anyhow."