XXXIX
The gale slackened on the third day, and Wulfrey was actually relieved in his mind at the sight of Macro hurrying ashore on his raft, after fresh meat, and, from the fact of his buckets, water, which he had probably been too careless, or too drunk, to secure during the storm. For the thought of his possibly lying there alone and foodless had not been a pleasant one, good reason as he had for disliking the man.
For themselves, he baited and cast his hooks, and landed half a dozen fish as fast as he could haul them out. Their fresh meat supply would have to wait until Macro went out to the wreckage and their minds could be at ease as to the safety of their headquarters. The sea outside was still too high for any possibility of his going that day, and fortunately, thanks to their new source of supply, they could wait with equanimity. Water they had caught in plenty in the buckets slung under the scuppers.
"He's alive at any rate," said Wulfrey, when he went down to breakfast.
"So much the worse for us," said The Girl.
"He's been fasting, I should say, by the way he has gone off after rabbits. We ate our first ones raw, I remember."
"Savages!"
"Savage with hunger. We had had nothing to eat but shell-fish and sea-weed for days."
"Horrible!—raw rabbit and sea-weed!"
"We had no means of making fire, no shelter. We slept out on the sands, and were glad to be simply alive."