r circumstances have miserably perished, we are
determined to do all that prudence can suggest for husbanding our
stores.

CHAPTER XXXII.

DECEMBER 8th to 17th.--When night came we wrapped ourselves in our
sails. For my own part, worn out with the fatigue of the long watch in
the top-mast, I slept for several hours; M. Letourneur and Andre did
the same, and Miss Herbey obtained sufficient rest to relieve the tired
expression that her countenance had lately been wearing. The night
passed quietly. As the raft was not very heavily laden the waves did not
break over it at all, and we were consequently able to keep ourselves
perfectly dry. To say the truth, it was far better for us that the sea
should remain somewhat boisterous, for any diminution in the swell of
the waves would indicate that; the wind had dropped, and it was with a
feeling of regret that when the morning came I had to note down "weather
calm" in my journal.

In these low latitudes the heat in the day-time is so intense, and
the sun burns with such an incessant glare, that the entire atmosphere
becomes pervaded with a glowing vapour. The wind, too, blows only in
fitful gusts and through long intervals of perfect calm the sails flap
idly and uselessly against the mast. Curtis and the boatswain, however,
are of opinion that we are not entirely dependent on the wind. Certain
indications, which a sailor's eye alone could detect, make them almost
sure that we are being carried along by a westerly current, that flows
at the rate of three or four miles an hour. If they are not mistaken,
this is a circumstance that may materially assist our progress, and
at which we can hardly fail to rejoice, for the high temperature often
makes our scanty allowance of water quite inadequate to allay our
thirst.

But with all our hardships I must confess that our condition is
far preferable to what it was when we were still clinging to the
"Chancellor." Here at least we have a comparatively solid platform
beneath our feet, and we are relieved from the incessant dread of being
carried down with a foundering vessel. In the day-time we can move about
with a certain amount of freedom, discuss the weather, watch the sea,
and examine our fishing-lines; whilst at night we can rest securely
under the shelter of our sails.

"I really think, Mr. Kazallon," said Andre Letourneur to me a few
days after we had embarked, "that our time on board the raft passes as
pleasantly as it did