The men lounged about listlessly, unable to forget their distress even in sleep. The captain scanned the horizon eagerly, looking in vain for the tiniest cloud that might promise a break-up of the hideous weather. José and I lay under an awning, though this was no protection from the stifling atmosphere.
Every one hoped that evening would bring relief, that a breeze might spring up, or that we might have a downpour of rain. Evening came, but the situation was unchanged, and a great fear entered our hearts. How long could we live like this—how long before death would release us from our misery? for misery it was now in downright, cruel earnest.
Once José rose and walked to the vessel's side, but, returning shortly, lay face downward on the deck.
"I must shut out the sight of the sea," he said, "or I shall go mad. What an awful thing to perish of thirst with water everywhere around us!"
This was our second night of horror, but very different in its nature from the first. Then, for long hours, we went in fear of the storm; now, we would have welcomed the most terrible tempest that ever blew, if only it brought us rain.
Very slowly the night crept by, and again we were confronted by the gray haze, with its curious blood-red tint. We could not escape from the vessel, as our boats had been smashed in the hurricane; we could only wait for what might happen in this sea of the dead.
"Rain or death, it is one or the other!" remarked José, as, rising to our feet, we staggered across to the skipper.
Rain or death! Which would come first, I wondered.
The captain could do nothing, though I must say he played his part like a man—encouraging the crew, foretelling a storm which should rise later in the day, and asserting that we were right in the track of ships. We had only to hold on patiently, he said, and all would come right.
José also spoke to the me cheerfully, trying to keep alive a glimmer of hope; but as the morning hours dragged wearily along, they were fain to give way to utter despair. No ships could reach us, they said, while the calm lasted, and not the slightest sign of change could be seen. Our throats were parched, our lips cracked, our eyes bloodshot and staring. One of the crew, a plump, chubby, round-faced man, began talking aloud in a rambling manner, and presently, with a scream of excitement, he sprang into the rigging.