“Poor fellow,” said Langton again, “I should have been truly thankful had he lived.”
Almost immediately after this a breeze sprang up, but it came off the land and drove the raft further and further away. They were all silent for some minutes, their position was becoming truly critical. Langton at length got up and looked about him.
“I see land away to the west. I believe that we shall reach it much sooner than we can hope to do that to the eastward if we hoist our sail and take advantage of the breeze.”
To this proposal Owen agreed, and the sail being set the raft glided rapidly over the water. Still, after going some distance, only the dim outline of the land towards which they were steering could be distinguished. All that they knew about it was that it must be one of the Sooloo Archipelago, and that most of those islands were inhabited by a savage race addicted to piracy.
These might, however, treat them kindly, though it was more possible that they would keep them in slavery. As they were running before the breeze the wind assisted but little to temper the rays of the sun which beat down on their heads. Their thirst increased, it was with difficulty that they could refrain from consuming the last remnants of their fruit. Langton, however, gave out only a very small piece at a time, which helped to moisten their throats and tongues, though it did little more. At the rate they were going, even should the breeze continue, it would take nearly the whole of the day to reach the land. Since the morning they had, however, undoubtedly neared it.
“We must hope for a bright night,” said Owen, “and we shall then be able to steer by the stars, although we may not see the land.”
When the sun went down Langton calculated that they were still nearly fifteen miles off. By this time their thirst became excessive. They had a little biscuit remaining, but the last piece of fruit had been divided among them. They hoped by next morning, at all events, to have got in close to the land, should the breeze not fail. They scarcely dared to contemplate their position should they be exposed another day to the hot sun on the raft without water.
Owen and Langton agreed to keep watch and watch, the former taking Mike and the latter Nat. For two or three hours after sunset the breeze continued to blow steadily, and the cool night air greatly restored their strength. The sky was clear and the stars shone brightly. They had taken the bearings of the land, and had no fear of not keeping to their proper course.
It was Owen’s watch, the raft had been gliding on briskly, when suddenly the sail gave a flap against the mast, and then hung down motionless.
“Let go the halyards!” he sang out. Before this could be done the sail was taken aback. Owen sprang forward to assist Mike in lowering it. Greatly was he disappointed to find the wind blow directly from the shore, and all hope of further progress, unless it should again change, denied them. He called up Langton, who at a glance perceived what had happened.