at they must
starve altogether, or that he must at once, before it was too late,
still farther reduce the scanty allowance of food and drink to each man.

The captain sat at the helm one fine evening, about a week after their
departure from Fairyland, brooding deeply over this subject. The boat
was running before a light breeze, at the rate of about four or five
knots, and the men, who had been obliged to row a good part of that day,
were sitting or reclining on the thwarts, or leaning over the gunwale,
watching the ripples as they glided by, and enjoying the rest from
labour; for now that they had been for some time on reduced allowance of
food, they felt less able for work than they used to be, and often began
to look forward with intense longing to seasons of repose. Ailie was
sitting near the entrance of her little sleeping apartment--which the
men denominated a kennel--and master Jacko was seated on the top of it,
scratching his sides and enjoying the sunshine.

"My lads," said the captain, breaking a silence which had lasted a
considerable time, "I'm afraid I shall have to reduce our allowance
still farther."

This remark was received by Gurney and Phil Briant with a suppressed
groan--by the other men in silence.

"You see," continued the captain, "it won't do to count upon chances,
which may or may not turn out to be poor. We can, by fixing our
allowance per man at a lower rate, make quite certain of our food
lasting us until we reach the Cape, even if we should experience a
little detention; but if we go on at the present rate, we are equally
certain that it will fail us just at the last."

"We're sartain to fall in with birds before we near the land," murmured
Gurney, with a rueful expression of countenance.

"We are certain of nothing," replied the captain; "but even suppose we
were, how are we to get hold of them?"

"That's true," observed Briant, who solaced himself with his pipe in the
absence of a sufficiency of food. "Sea-birds, no more nor land-birds,
ain't given to pluckin' and roastin' themselves, and flyin' down
people's throats ready cooked."

"Besides," resumed the captain, "the plan I propose, although it will
entail a little more present self-denial, will, humanly speaking, ensure
our getting through the voyage with life in us even at the worst, and if
we _are_ so lucky as to catch fish or procure birds in any way, why we
shall fare sumptuously."

Here Tim Rokens, to whom the men in