called a life, fourteen of us were living still. Who would be the next
to go? We should then be thirteen.

"An unlucky number!" said Andre with a mournful smile.

During the night the boatswain cast his lines from the stern of the
raft, and, unwilling to trust them to any one else, remained watching
them himself. In the morning I went to ascertain what success had
attended his patience. It was scarcely light, and with eager eyes he was
peering down into the water. He had neither seen nor heard me coming.

"Well, boatswain!" I said, touching him on the shoulder.

He turned round quickly.

"Those villainous sharks have eaten every morsel of my bait," he said,
in a desponding voice.

"And you have no more left?" I asked.

"No more," he said. Then grasping my arm he added, "and that only shows
me that it is no good doing things by halves."

The truth flashed upon me at once, and I laid my hand upon his mouth.
Poor Walter!

CHAPTER XLII.

JANUARY 9th and 10th.--On the 9th the wind dropped, and there was a dead
calm; not a ripple disturbed the surface of the long undulations as
they rose and fell beneath us; and if it were not for the slight current
which is carrying us we know not whither, the raft would be absolutely
stationary.

The heat was intolerable; our thirst more intolerable still; and now it
was that for the first time I fully realized how the insufficiency of
drink could cause torture more unendurable than the pangs of hunger.
Mouth, throat, pharynx, all alike were parched and dry, every gland
becoming hard as horn under the action of the hot air we breathed. At
my urgent solicitation the captain was for once induced to double our
allowance of water; and this relaxation of the ordinary rule enabled us
to attempt to slake our thirst four times in the day, instead of only
twice. I use the word "attempt" advisedly; for the water at the bottom
of the barrel, though kept covered by a sail, became so warm that it was
perfectly flat and unrefreshing.

It was a most trying day, and the sailors relapsed into a condition of
deep despondency. The moon was nearly full, but when she rose the breeze
did not return. Continuance of high temperature in daytime is a sure
proof that we have been carried far to the south, and here, on this
illimitable ocean, we have long ceased even to look for land; it might
almost seem as though this globe of ours had veritably become a liquid
sphere!

To-day we are still becal