“The black deserves his rest,” he said to himself; “and it’s much better that those two dear young ones should forget their sorrow and troubles; they will have enough of them, I am afraid, before long.”
Again the sun rose—another day, which promised to be like the last. The remainder of the flying-fish was eaten in the same manner as before. Alice could not manage to get down the unsavoury compound, and contented herself with some hard biscuits soaked in wine and water. Though they were saved from the suffering which thirst would have caused them, hunger stared them in the face. In vain they watched the shoals of flying-fish in the distance; none came near them. They had no hooks or lines, nor any means of replenishing their stock of provisions. The mate did not allow the rest of the party to discover how anxious he felt; indeed, he blamed himself for feeling anxious, and continually kept saying, “God cares for us. He will take care of us, I am sure. He won’t let these young ones perish.” Still the thought arose, “How is that to be? It’s more than I can tell, unless He sends a ship to pick us up.” No sail, however, appeared in sight. Hour after hour passed away. The mate looked round and round the horizon, in the hope that one would appear; but again the sun went down, and the raft floated slowly on amid the darkness of night.
Except a little biscuit reserved for Alice and Walter, no substantial food remained for the next day, though the oil, wine, and spirits might assist to keep them alive for some time longer. The mate and Nub steered on watch and watch during the night, as they agreed to let the young people sleep as long as they could. The mate felt perfect confidence while Nub, who was an excellent sailor, was at the helm, and he was thus able to take more rest than heretofore. The latter part of the night was darker than usual, for a thick mist rested on the calm ocean. Morning was approaching, when Walter awoke, and springing to his feet, offered to take the helm, that his companions might have more rest.
“No, thank you, lad; Nub and I have had sleep enough, and we wish that you and Miss Alice should have as much rest as possible,” answered Mr Shobbrok.
Alice, on hearing her name, started up, and inquired if anything had happened. But before the mate could reply, Nub shouted out, “Land! land!—land right ahead!”
All the party, naturally highly excited, looked out, endeavouring to pierce the gloom; but either the mist had risen for a moment, enabling Nub to see the land, or his eyes, still heavy with sleep, had deceived him. A light breeze was still driving on the raft. They got out the oars, and endeavoured to impel it faster. They had not gone far when Nub again cried out, “There! there! There it is!”
“Is it an island, or is it the back of an enormous whale?” exclaimed Walter. “I see a flag flying on the highest part, and people moving about.”
“Are you sure that those are people?” asked the mate. “I see a flagstaff and flag clearly enough; but if those are human beings, the flag must be a very large one, such as no whale-boat carries.”
“Can papa be there?” exclaimed Alice, who was seated on a piece of timber in the centre of the raft.
“Little doubt about dat,” said Nub, turning round to her. “Cheer up, Missie Alice; cheer up. We soon get dere. But whether it is land, as Massa Walter says, or one bery big whale, is more dan I can tell. It look to my eye like a whale; but I cannot see its head or its tail,—and whales got both, unless dey are cut off.” Nub, in fact, was greatly puzzled at the appearance of the seeming island. He did not take into consideration the deceptive effect produced by the light mist which pervaded the air, making objects seen through it magnified and distorted, as it floated imperceptibly by.