Nor did he or she awake until the sun glared red across the Sargasso Sea, encrimsoning even the dark brown weedy billows—a scene of such beauty, that it could not be depicted even by the aid of the best of magic-lanterns.
Teenie awoke happy and smiling, and looked down at Barclay.
“Poor boy!” she said, “all alone all the long, long night.”
He drew water for her in a pannikin, and she performed a little salt-water toilet, such as the mermaids do. Barclay followed suit, and both felt refreshed.
Then a fire of wood was made on an iron plate in the bottom of the boat, and fish were fried and coffee made.
Barclay never went away on an ocean picnic of this kind without taking every necessary of camplife with him, so no wonder Teenie delighted to accompany him.
All felt like giants refreshed now, and the battle with the weeds was recommenced.
In less than three hours they were safe alongside the Zingara.
But something strange was soon going to happen, though they could not yet tell what it might be.
Anyhow, the glass fell lower than ever it had done since they entered the Sea of Sargasso.