ken us so far out to sea, that, on the
dawning of the 7th of July, we saw nothing but sky and water, without
knowing whither to direct our course; for our compass had been broken
during the tempest. In this hopeless condition, we continued to steer
sometimes to the right and sometimes to the left, until the sun arose,
and at last showed us the east.
On the morning of the 7th of July, we again saw the shores of the
Desert, notwithstanding we were a great distance from it. The sailors
renewed their murmurings, wishing to get on shore, with the hope of
being able to get some wholesome plants, and some more palatable water
than that of the sea; but as we were afraid of the Moors, their
request was opposed. However, M. Laperere proposed to take them as
near as he could to the first breakers on the coast; and when there,
those who wished to go on shore should throw themselves into the sea,
and swim to land. Eleven accepted the proposal; but when we had
reached the first waves, none had the courage to brave the mountains
of water which rolled between them and the beach. Our sailors then
betook themselves to their benches and oars, and promised to be more
quiet for the future. A short while after, a third distribution was
made since our departure from the Medusa; and nothing more remained
than four pints of water, and one half dozen biscuits. What steps were
we to take in this cruel situation? We were desirous of going on
shore, but we had such dangers to encounter. However we soon came to a
decision, when we saw a caravan of Moors on the coast. We then stood a
little out to sea. According to the calculation of our commanding
officer, we would arrive at Senegal on the morrow. Deceived by that
false account, we preferred suffering one day more, rather than be
taken by the Moors of the Desert, or perish among the breakers. We had
now 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 sustain
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