no more than a small half glass of water,
and the seventh of a biscuit. Exposed as we were to the heat of the sun,
which darted its rays perpendicularly on our heads, that ration, though
small, would have been a great relief to us; but the distribution was
delayed to the morrow. We were then obliged to drink the bitter
sea-water, ill as it was calculated to quench our thirst. Must I tell
it! thirst had so withered the lungs of our sailors, that they drank
water salter than that of the sea! Our numbers diminished daily, and
nothing but the hope of arriving at the colony on the following day
sustained our frail existence. My young brothers and sisters wept
incessantly for water. The little Laura, aged six years, lay dying at
the feet of her mother. Her mournful cries so moved the soul of my
unfortunate father, that he was on the eve of opening a vein to quench
the thirst which consumed his child; but a wise person opposed his
design, observing that all the blood in his body would not prolong the
life of his infant one moment.

The freshness of the night-wind procured us some respite. We anchored
pretty near to the shore, and, though dying of famine, each got a
tranquil sleep. On the morning of the 8th of July at break of day, we
took the route for Senegal. A short while after the wind fell, and we
had a dead calm. We endeavoured to row, but our strength was exhausted.
A fourth and last distribution was made, and, in the twinkling of an
eye, our last resources were consumed. We were forty-two people who had
to feed upon _six biscuits_ and about _four pints_ of water, with no
hope of a farther supply. Then came the moment for deciding whether we
were to perish among the breakers, which defended the approach to the
shores of the Desert, or to die of famine in continuing our route. The
majority preferred the last species of misery. We continued our progress
along the shore, painfully pulling our oars. Upon the beach were
distinguished several downs of white sand, and some small trees. We were
thus creeping along the coast, observing a mournful silence, when a
sailor suddenly exclaimed, Behold the Moors! We did, in fact, see
various individuals upon the rising ground, walking at a quick pace, and
whom we took to be the Arabs of the Desert. As we were very near the
shore, we stood farther out to sea, fearing that these pretended Moors,
or Arabs, would throw themselves into the sea, swim out, and take us.
Some hours after, we o