ary to sustain our miserable
existence, and we tremble with horror at being obliged to tell that of
which we made use. We feel our pen fall from our hands: a mortal cold
congeals all our members, and our hair bristles erect on our foreheads.
Readers! we implore you, feel not indignant towards men already
overloaded with misery. Pity their condition, and shed a tear of sorrow
for their deplorable fate.

The wretches, whom death had spared during the disastrous night we have
described, seized upon the dead bodies with which the raft was covered,
cutting them up by slices, which some even instantly devoured. Many
nevertheless refrained. Almost all the officers were of this number.
Seeing that this monstrous food had revived the strength of those who
had used it, it was proposed to dry it, to make it a little more
palatable. Those who had firmness to abstain from it, took an additional
quantity of wine. We endeavoured to eat shoulder-belts and
cartouch-boxes, and contrived to swallow some small bits of them. Some
eat linen: others the leathers of the hats, on which was a little
grease, or rather dirt. We had recourse to many expedients to prolong
our miserable existence, to recount which would only disgust the heart
of humanity.

The day was calm and beautiful. A ray of hope beamed for a moment to
quiet our agitation. We still expected to see the boats or some ships,
and addressed our prayers to the Eternal, on whom we placed our trust.
The half of our men were extremely feeble, and bore upon their faces the
stamp of approaching dissolution. The evening arrived, and we found no
help. The darkness of the third night augmented our fears, but the wind
was still, and the sea less agitated. The sun of the fourth morning
since our departure shone upon our disaster, and showed us ten or twelve
of our companions stretched lifeless upon the raft. This sight struck us
most forcibly, as it told us we would be soon extended in the same
manner in the same place. We gave their bodies to the sea for a grave,
reserving only one to feed those who, but the day before, had held his
trembling hands, and sworn to him eternal friendship. This day was
beautiful. Our souls, anxious for more delightful sensations, were in
harmony with the aspect of the heavens, and got again a new ray of hope.
Towards four in the afternoon, an unlooked for event happened which gave
us some consolation. A shoal of flying fish passed under our raft, and
as there we