ed, had the gale
continued to increase, no human power could have saved us.
Providentially, after the last violent blast it began to subside; but
the sea was still too high to allow us to make headway against it. As
soon as we had somewhat cleared the boat of water, Jose and I resumed
our oars; but, notwithstanding all our efforts, the summits of the
foaming waves occasionally broke aboard, and we had to recommence
bailing.

We were thus employed when Uncle Paul cried out,--"Take to your oars!
Pull--pull away for your lives!" We did our utmost, but the top of
another heavy sea, like a mountain, which rolled up astern, broke aboard
and carried away nearly the whole of our remaining stock of provisions;
and had not Uncle Paul at the moment grasped hold of Marian, she also
would, I believe, have been washed away. Another such sea would
speedily have swamped us. We, of course, had again to bail away with
all our might; but it took some time before the boat could be cleared of
water. When we at length got her to rights, and looked round for our
oars, we found, to our dismay, that both Jose's and mine had been
carried overboard, thus leaving only two with which to pull on the boat;
while we had only the small sail which had formed the covering to
Marian's cabin.

The gale continued for two days longer; and it seemed surprising that my
young sister, poor girl, should have survived the hardships she had to
endure. One small cask, only partly full of water, remained, with two
packages of dried manatee flesh, and a few oranges and other fruits,--
which were, besides, fast spoiling. Uncle Paul served them out with the
greatest care; giving Marian, however, a larger portion than the rest of
us--though he did not tell her so, lest she should refuse to take it.
Our poor father lay in the bottom of the boat, so prostrated, that had
we not propped him up and fed him, he would soon have succumbed. Jose
was in even a worse condition. He evidently had not recovered from the
injuries he had received in the coils of the anaconda; and when I asked
Uncle Paul if he thought he would recover, he shook his head.

"He will be the first among us to go," he answered in a most dispirited
way. Jose was groaning, crouched down in the bows of the boat. Tim's
compassionate heart was moved; he went and placed himself by his side.

"Cheer up," he said. "We may fall in with a vessel before long, when we
shall have plenty of grub, and you wi