“How about water?”
“I looked after that this morning, and the keg’s full of fresh water.”
“Then,” said Wolfe, “we’ve every reason to feel very grateful that we’re so well off; and if we only had a compass we would head for the coast of Newfoundland, and row to it, too, barring bad weather and accidents, before our provisions gave out.”
“Yes,” said Breeze, “we’ve certainly got provisions enough to do it with, for if each of us eats one biscuit a day, they will last us twelve days.”
“Couldn’t we take two a day, and make it six days?” suggested Wolfe.
“How would you like to eat three a day, one each for breakfast, dinner, and supper, and call it a four days’ supply?” asked Breeze.
“Faith! I believe I could eat a dozen of them now, and then wish for the rest without trying, I’m so hungry. But say, Breeze, how long would they last us if we took three apiece the first day, two the second, one the third, and then began and did it all over again?”
Thus talking, and in slowly eating two of their precious biscuit, they managed to pass several hours, at the end of which they were gladdened by a ray of sunlight. The fog was lifting. Starting up, they eagerly scanned their widening horizon, which now extended for some miles on all sides of them. To their bitter disappointment, they could see no sign that any other human beings had ever floated on that dreary waste of waters.
Shortly before sunset the fog settled down again, thicker than ever; and lying down in the bottom of their boat, the dorymates very nearly abandoned themselves to despair. Finally, huddling as closely together as possible, for the sake of what warmth they could thus obtain, they both fell asleep.
In his sleep Breeze dreamed that he was sailing a boat into Gloucester harbor, but that instead of looking out for the familiar landmarks, he was steering her by compass. He dreamed this same thing over and over, until at last he awoke with it strongly impressed upon his mind.