“Impossible!” cried Holdsworth quickly, and tasted the water.
The widow was right. The water was not indeed salt, but so brackish as to be quite unfit to drink.
He spat it out at once, his instincts cautioning him that he would increase his thirst by swallowing it, and looked blankly at the men.
“What! is it salt?” exclaimed Winyard furiously.
“Try the other keg,” said Holdsworth, throwing the contents of the pannikin away.
Johnson drew some of the water and tasted it, but also spat it out, as Holdsworth had done.
“Is that salt too?” shrieked Holdsworth.
“Try it!” answered Johnson grimly, coming aft with the pannikin.
That, too, like the other, was brackish and unfit to be drunk.
“Great God!” exclaimed Holdsworth, clasping his hands convulsively; “how could this have happened?”