Water was served out from the cask—in equal quantity to each. It was agreed that all should share alike, both of the water and the bread—and of the former it was resolved that each should receive a pint a day. In any other situation the allowance might have been sufficient, and existence might be supported upon it; but under that broiling sun, that seemed to dry up the very blood in our veins, our thirst became almost insupportable, and the pint of water could be gulped down without affording the slightest relief. I am certain that half a gallon would scarce have sufficed to quench my thirst. What rendered the pint of water still more insufficient was, that it was no longer cool water. The sun, basking down upon the cask that lay only half covered, had heated the staves—and, consequently, the water within—to such a degree, that the latter tasted as if half-way towards boiling. It may have checked the progress of thirst, but it did not alleviate the pain.
The water might have been kept cooler, by throwing the idle sail over the cask; but even this trifling precaution was not adopted.
The men were gradually giving away to despair—the torpor of despondency was fast laying hold upon them, and under this influence no one seemed to possess energy enough for any precaution—however easy it might have been.
As to the serving out of the food, that occupied only one act. To be put upon daily allowance out of such a store was altogether out of the question. A simple partition was all that was required, and the bag of biscuit was emptied out and its contents equally divided around. There proved to be two biscuits apiece, with a small surplus, and for this last the crew held a “raffle”—each time a single biscuit forming the prize. For these prizes the men contended with as much eagerness, as if there had been large sums of money staked on the result; and, indeed, it would have been a large sum that would have purchased one of those precious morsels of bread.
The “raffling,” combined with the “rum”—which was now also meted out—produced for some time a noisy excitement. But this was soon over; and the sullen silence of despondency again ruled.
Some, already ravenous with hunger and reckless of consequences, ate their two biscuits at once—while others, endowed with greater prudence or stronger powers of endurance, only gnawed a small portion, and kept the rest towards a future and more pressing necessity.
Thus passed the time till near sunset, with no event to cheer us—no new prospect to beget a hope.
When near sunset, however, a grand excitement was produced, and all the sweet joys of hope were again felt.
One of the men who had arisen to his feet, and was gazing over the sea, suddenly cried out:—
“A sail—a sail!”