k to the oars of their own accord, announcing their determination to
rest henceforth through the day, and to work all night, a plan which I
was at once compelled to admit had much to recommend it. And so, while
the men pulled pretty steadily on through the night, Dumaresq and I took
watch and watch at the tiller.

Another breathless morning dawned; we went to breakfast, and the men
then lay down to sleep, as on the previous day, while Dumaresq and I
laboured at the oars until noon, when the gallant young Frenchman was
compelled to give up, declaring that he could not pull another stroke,
even though his life depended upon it. I could, of course, do nothing
single-handed; so after dinner we all lay down together, and the sleep
of utter exhaustion soon fell upon me. When I next awoke the men were
already astir and getting their supper; and it appeared to me, from the
look in their faces, that they would have been better pleased had
Dumaresq and I remained asleep. After supper they threw out their oars,
and the Frenchman and I sat together in the stern-sheets, moodily
discussing the situation, and marvelling at our strange ill-fortune in
having sighted but one solitary sail ever since the destruction of the
Indiaman.

"The fact is," remarked Dumaresq, in a low tone, "that we have made a
terrible mistake in deciding to try for Teneriffe. We ought to have
acted upon your suggestion to bear away for the West Indies. Had we
done so, we should have been more than half-way there by this time--if,
indeed, we had not already been fallen in with and picked up. As it is,
it is now clear enough that, if as we both believed, we were on the edge
of the trade-wind, we have lost it again, and it may be many days before
we shall get another breeze. And should that be the case, it is my
belief that not one of us will ever see dry land again. Note our
condition at this moment; observe our companions. When we abandoned the
ill-fated _Manilla_ they were a stout, sturdy crew of willing, obedient
men; whilst now they are a gang of gaunt and savage outlaws, no longer
amenable to discipline, and rendered ferociously selfish by starvation.
Did you observe the fell gleam of animosity with which they regarded us
when we awoke this evening and helped ourselves to our share of the
provisions? There has been no hint of violence thus far; but, mark my
words, Bowen, unless we are rescued within the next forty-eight hours
this boat will become