His voice startled the others. Now, that they came to examine their own conditions a bit more keenly, they began to understand that they, too, were fast sinking into a drowsy state.
Was the coming end, too, to be painless?
"There's no use looking," replied Jacob Farnum, in answer to Jack's question. "There isn't a single place left to explore. We—"
Whether Mr. Farnum thus broke off because he had lost his thought, or whether he dreaded to say the omitted words, none of the others even troubled to guess.
Bill Henderson started in to sing. There were a few angry gasps of protest until the others slowly realized that the air sounded like that of some hymn. The words, however, were in a foreign tongue, picked up in the course of the seaman's wanderings over the world.
Then their resentment softened. If Bill preferred to meet the end with a hymn on his lips, perhaps that was the best thing for all of them.
It crept over them, now, that they felt choking sensations, with pain and buzzing in their ears. Then the end must be near. Unconsciousness, at any rate. That loss of the senses would be the end, so far as any of them could know.
"Now, give thanks with your last real thoughts," cried Bill, hoarsely. "Gentlemen—this is—glorious! We're going fast! The last—croak—is upon us! Good—bye!"