Accordingly, while one half rested, Nettleship served out a portion of our remaining stock of provisions. The other half then took a meal. This, however, only made us all more thirsty, and again the cry rose of—
“Water! water! We must have it, or we shall have to give in!”
Nettleship seemed to think that it would be useless to resist their entreaties, and with a look of desperation he divided the remainder of the water, leaving not a drop at the bottom of the last bottle.
Rapidly the sun sank towards the horizon. In a short time it would be dark, and we should have no chance of being seen from the ship. The men cried out for the remainder of the liquor, saying that they could pull all the better if they could get it. This, also, to my surprise, Nettleship served out to them,—the bottle-neck full to each of us, for we all shared alike,—and again they pulled as lustily as before for a short time; but we all felt our thirst increased. Few of them spoke; but Larry every now and then gave a shout, or made some comic remark to encourage his companions. Nettleship also did his best to keep up our spirits.
Darkness, however, was fast approaching; the wind appeared to be freshening, and, should a strong breeze fill the stranger’s sails, all hope of getting alongside her before she passed us would be lost. Not a word was now uttered; but every now and then the men turned their heads to ascertain what progress we were making.
Nettleship now steered the boat rather more to the northward.
Presently a light streamed out towards us across the water. Again our hopes of getting on board increased. The wind once more dropped.
“We shall reach her, lads!” cried Nettleship at length, in a confident tone.
The men cheered, though their voices sounded husky, the ring of a British seaman’s voice sadly wanting. They pulled bravely on, however.
The light rose higher above the surface. It was now almost ahead. Then another streamed forth from a port. Presently Nettleship’s voice rang out clear and loud—