"Eternal Father, strong to save,
Whose arm hath bound the restless wave.
Who bidd'st the mighty ocean deep
Its own appointed limits keep:"
The doctor and the first mate joined in the refrain. And Hookway ceased to rave. They sang the hymn right through. The last verse was sung by every one. The "Amen" went up like a prayer at the end. And the sailors, with their caps in their hands, some of them with tears in their eyes, looked gratefully at Sylvia and murmured, "Thank you, miss."
Oh! the days that followed, and the long, hungry nights! Even now I dream of them, and start up trembling in my sleep.
Sylvia and I have very tender hearts when we hear of the starving poor.
To be hungry—oh! it is terrible. But to be thirsty too! And to feel that one is dying of thirst—and water everywhere!
For those first dreadful days Mr. Wheeler dealt out half a biscuit to each—half a biscuit with a morsel of beef that had to be breakfast, and dinner, and tea! And just a little half mug of water tinctured with a drop of rum!
And on that we lived, eight people in the cutter, for something like eleven days! Eleven days in a scorching sun! Eleven calm, horrible nights!
We wanted a breeze. And no breeze came, though we prayed for it night and day. The remorseless ocean was like a sheet of glass. The sun shone fiercely in the heavens. It made the sides of the cutter so hot that it hurt our poor hands to touch it.
And all those days no sign of a sail! Not a vestige of a passing ship!
Evans and Davis grumbled and swore. And so did Hookway sometimes. Gilliland was the most patient of the sailors; and tried to cheer up every one else with stories of other people's escapes.