We scarcely exchanged another word for some hours, but kept wistfully glancing our eyes round the horizon, in the hopes of a sail appearing. Shortly before darkness came on, and the hour of ten passed by, I began to feel rather hungry. At the same time I happened to put my hand into my pocket, and there I found the greater part of a ship’s biscuit, which, as I was quitting the cabin, I had mechanically thrust into it. I almost shouted for joy as I found the prize—though it was not much to be divided among four men. The discovery made the rest fumble in their pockets. McTavish had a tobacco-box, which he had only just filled, and Jack found a huge lump of grease, which, though not very savoury, was not to be despised. How it had come there he could not recollect. These treasures, however, we determined not to begin to consume till the following morning, for that night we had no hopes of being taken off the wreck. The squall had rapidly passed off, and the ocean was now as calm as before. The sky was clear, and the sun went down in a blaze of glory, shedding a bright ruddy hue over the wide expanse which surrounded us. Night came on, and the stars burst forth from the blue vault of heaven, and cast their reflection on the smooth, mirror-like water, as we sat on, hour after hour, afraid of going to sleep, lest we should slip from our hold, yet longing for repose. At last it occurred to me to have the rope passed from one to the other, and secured round our waists, so that if one fell asleep and began to slip, the rest might support him. Thus we got through the longest night I had ever then passed.
The grey dawn came at length, and as the light rapidly increased, we looked anxiously around the horizon, but nothing but the smooth glassy sea met our sight. Oh, then, well do I remember it! There came over me a deep sense of our utter helplessness, and of the palpable necessity of dependence on a higher power. Of what use was our strength? Of what use was our seamanship? Our strength without food would quickly leave us; while all we could do was to sit still. I spoke my thoughts to my companions. They listened attentively, and we all knelt down together on our unstable support, and prayed to God for preservation from our great peril. After this act we felt refreshed and encouraged; and I observed that the voices of my companions assumed a more cheerful tone than before. Our trials, however, were but commencing. As the sun rose in the sky, his beams struck down on our undefended heads and scorched us dreadfully, till Jack bethought him of fastening his handkerchief over the top of his, and we followed his example. Instead of breakfast, we each of us took a quid from Sandy’s box, and that had the effect of staying our appetites for some hours. This, however, did not satisfy our stomachs entirely, and a short time after noon we could no longer resist attacking our scanty store of provisions. My biscuit I broke in two, and returning one-half to my pocket, I divided the other into four parts, Jack treating his lump of grease in the same way. We ate it with a relish I can scarcely describe. It was the only food we consumed for the whole of the day. Again the sun went down without a sail having appeared. That night passed away as had the former one, though each of us got rather more sleep. The next morning there was the same dull calm. Noon came, and with a heavy heart I served out the remainder of our provisions, but none of us seemed to care much for food. Water was what we craved for. A thimbleful to moisten our tongues would have been worth its bulk in gold. A raging thirst was growing on us. I urged the men to abstain from drinking salt water, for I well knew that if they did, it would only increase their sufferings. Earnestly did I pray that we might not have to endure another night on the wreck, for I thought that we could never exist through it; but the night came, and we passed it, how, I scarcely know, for, though not asleep, I was certainly not fully awake, except to a sense of some overpowering misfortune. The day came, a day which we must pass without food or water. Our sufferings hitherto had not been great, but this morning they became very intense. Hope, which had till now never deserted us, began to grow faint, and alas! even trust in God’s providence to wane. I tried to pray, but my thoughts were confused. I could not for two consecutive minutes fix them on the same subject, and I experienced practically the folly of attempting to wait for a death-bed repentance, for sickness, or for such a moment as the present, for reconciliation with God. I speak of my own feelings, and I believe that they were not far different from those of my men. Hour after hour we sat gazing stupidly at each other. The hot sun rose and scorched us as before, while the bright glare his rays cast on the smooth ocean almost blinded our eyes. Several times I tried to rouse myself to talk to my men, and to encourage them; but I own that I failed miserably in the attempt, and, from weakness, I was scarcely able to refrain from giving way to a flood of tears. It was some time past noon, when I saw Jack’s countenance brighten up.
“What is it?” I asked.
He pointed eagerly to the southward. I turned round, and looked, and there I saw in the horizon a long, thin, well-defined, dark blue line, and in the centre of it a white speck.
“A breeze! a breeze!” I cried.
“Ay, and a sail, too,” added Jack. “She is standing this way. Huzza! my lads.”
Jim and Sandy cheered faintly. They were the first words they had uttered for some hours. We now all found our tongues, a fillip had been given to our spirits, and we thought scarcely of our hunger or thirst. The dark blue line advanced, and grew wider and wider, till it spread itself over the ocean; and the white speck grew higher and higher, till the topsails of a vessel were seen rising out of the water. Oh! with what intense anxiety did we watch her, fearing every moment to see her alter her course, or pass by without noticing us.
“Can she be the Zerlina?” said I to Jack. “I think when Mr Waller found that we were not following him, he would have put back to look for us.”
“No, sir; she has too wide a spread of canvas, to my mind, for the Zerlina,” answered Jack. “I’m doubtful what she is.”
“Maybe she’s the Opossum hersel’,” remarked Sandy. “I ken she ought to be found hereabouts.”