to be English, with a good supply of water on board."

"But suppose we don't," said Tom, gloomily.

"We mustn't think of that, lad," said Mudge; "we can all easily hold out
for another four-and-twenty hours; and we have still some cocoa-nuts,
which we must chew to prevent ourselves from feeling thirsty."

We now counted the hours as they went by. As yet our strength was not
materially decreased. Though our arms ached, we could still
mechanically labour at the oars when we got into our seats; but I very
much doubt that we made as much as three knots an hour.

That next night was the most trying we had yet passed in the boat. We
had had no breakfast in the morning, not a drop of water to cool our
parched tongues, or even to moisten our cracked lips. We might have
made the water, by more economy, hold out another day, but there was no
use regretting that now. We felt the heat greater than ever. Tom
proposed getting overboard; but there was the difficulty of getting in
again; so Mudge advised that we should simply dip our clothes in the
water and put them on again, that we might thus imbibe some moisture
through our skins. He charged us on no account, however thirsty we
might feel, to drink the salt water, pointing out the fearful result
which might ensue.

Once more the sun went down, and we tried to row, but could now scarcely
move the oars. At length, afraid of losing them, Mudge told Harry and
me, who were then rowing, or rather trying to row, to haul them in; and
we all stretched ourselves in the bottom of the boat and went to sleep.

Morning came again, and one by one we sat up and looked about us, and
then gazed into each other's faces without speaking.

"I vote we have breakfast," said Tom at length, "for I'm sharp set and
very thirsty."

"There's neither food nor water remaining, boy," answered Mudge in a
hollow tone. "God may, if he thinks fit, send us help before the day is
over. We can hold out a few hours longer, I should hope; but if help
does not come, we must make up our minds like men to die. It has been
the lot of many; why should we complain?"

These remarks were not calculated to raise our spirits. Perhaps Mudge
knew that it would be useless to make any attempt to do so. He spoke
but the truth, and we all knew that. It was a perfect calm; no vessel
could approach us, and we were too weak to row. Mudge and I made the
attempt, telling Tom to steer; but after a few strokes I could r