“Walter,” he gasped, “Walter, I can’t rouse them. I—I—guess they’re dead!”
“Dead!” I croaked. “Oh, no, surely not! It would be too cruel that they should have endured so much, only to perish when all that we need is within sight. Take the dipper—there is still a little water left—and see if you can get them to swallow a drop or two; then, if they will take any at all, give them a good drink—half a dipper each, but no more, mind you. Tell them that in two hours we shall be ashore on the fairest island God’s sun ever shone upon. Go at once, old boy; a few minutes may make all the difference between life and death. I would go myself, but I am afraid you are too weak to stand and steer.”
“No, no, I’m not,” he protested. “I can steer all right. And I’d ever so much rather that you went in there than I. You will manage better than I could. And—and, Walter, I’m afraid—afraid that I—that they wouldn’t wake for me.”
I thought I saw what was the matter with the lad; he feared that his mother and sister were dead, and shrank from converting that fear into certainty. I therefore surrendered the steering oar to him, and, drawing a small quantity of water from the almost empty cask, crept in under the deck, where I found the four women lying, each by herself, as far apart from the others as possible, all of them apparently dead. Yet although the place smelt close and stuffy enough, I could detect no trace of the taint which, in a hot climate, so quickly betrays the presence of death, and with renewed hope I proceeded to my task.
I happened to turn to Miss Anthea first, and although the light in there was too subdued to enable me to distinguish very clearly the ravages wrought by slow starvation, the ease with which I, feeble as I was, raised her poor emaciated form into a semi-sitting posture was eloquent enough. She lay, with closed eyes, quite inanimate in my arms; but upon bending over her I thought I could detect that she still breathed, although I was by no means certain. I dipped my finger in the pannikin of water which I had brought with me, and moistened her dry, cracked lips, repeating the operation two or three times. Presently I distinctly heard her sigh, and saw that she was making a feeble effort to lick her lips, whereupon I held the pannikin to them and allowed a little water to trickle into her mouth. This she endeavoured to swallow, but the effort was so painful as to extort a low groan from her. Then she opened her eyes and looked about her vacantly, as though she did not recognise her surroundings; but when she found me bending over her she smiled faintly—a smile which strangely gladdened my heart.
“You are feeling better?” I whispered. “Try to swallow a little more of this water; but hold it in your mouth for a moment or two first, then I will give you more. Listen: there is land in sight, a most lovely island embowered in richest verdure, where I am sure we shall be able to get all the food we need. It is quite near, so near that we shall be there in about two hours from now. Surely you can hold out two hours longer if I give you enough water to quench your thirst?”
She smiled again. “Land, do you say?” she whispered. “Land—and food? Oh, yes, I am sure I can; the mere thought of it will sustain me. But are you sure, Walter—quite sure?”
“Absolutely certain,” I answered. “Julius has seen it, too, and is steering the boat straight for it. Now, drink a little more water, and then let me help you to get into the fresh air. You will feel ever so much better out there on deck.”
She drank again, this time avidly, almost savagely, her small teeth clenching on the rim of the pannikin and her poor thin fingers grasping it tightly when I attempted to remove it from her lips. When, knowing that, in her condition, to drink freely would be hurtful to her, I forcibly removed the pannikin, the poor girl cried pitifully, and whispered that I was cruel; but I presently pacified her with the promise of a little more as soon as she was outside. At last, with less difficulty than I had anticipated, I got her out on deck, where, after the administration of about a quarter of a pint of water, with just a suspicion of brandy in it, she revived in the most marvellous manner.
Then I went below again, and, pursuing the same tactics with the others, eventually had the happiness to restore them all to animation and get them out on deck, where they sat feasting their eyes upon the glorious prospect that was gradually unfolding itself before them. To achieve this result I had to expend the very last drop of water that could be coaxed from the breaker; and as I did so I realised to the full what the torments of Tantalus must have been. Not a drop had passed my own lips during the previous twelve hours, and to witness the ecstasy with which the others absorbed the precious liquid was almost more than I could endure in my then weak state.