bunged up and rolled overboard, and then
safely deposited among the spars, where it floated of itself. What
water may have been carried away in the gig no one knew, but certain it
was that the cask was still nearly half-full.

This discovery produced a momentary cheerfulness--for, in such cases,
water is usually the most important consideration, and ofttimes the very
one that is neglected.

But the joy was of short continuance; when every article upon the raft
was overhauled, and every portion of it carefully searched, the only
food that could be found was a small bag of biscuits--not enough to give
two biscuits to each of us--not enough for a single meal!

This astounded intelligence was received with cries of chagrin and looks
of dismay. Some shouted in anger. One half recriminated the other.
Some had been entrusted specially to provide the food. These alleged
that a barrel of pork had been put upon the raft. Where was it?
Certainly there was a barrel; but, on breaking it open, to the dismay of
all, it proved to be a barrel of pitch!

A scene now ensued that it would be impossible to describe. Oaths,
exclamations, and angry words passed freely, and the men almost came to
blows. The pitch was thrown into the sea, and those who had put it upon
the raft were threatened with a similar fate. Their negligence would
prove fatal to all. But for them there might still have been a chance;
but now, what hope? With two biscuits apiece, how long could they
exist? Not three days without suffering the extreme of hunger. Ere a
week should pass, one and all must perish!

The probability, nay, the positive certainty, of such a doom produced a
scene of despondence--mingled with angry excitement on the part of those
who called themselves "betrayed"--that it would be difficult to paint.
Harsh revilings were freely used; and threats of throwing the
delinquents into the sea continued to be uttered at intervals during the
whole night.

There was still another barrel upon the raft, that had been better left
upon the burning wreck. But it was not likely that it should be
forgotten. Its contents were of a nature too highly prized by the
sailor who fears death by drowning, or any other sudden or violent
means. It is supposed to make death easy, and, therefore, the
despairing wretch clings to it as a friend. It is a sad resource, an
awful termination to human existence; but often is it appealed to in the
last moments of mi