o sail was to be seen.
In spite of our almost hopeless position we became very hungry, and,
what was worse, thirsty also. As the sun rose and struck down on our
heads my thirst increased. I felt certain that I could not hold on much
longer. Peter Pongo did not care so much about the hot sun, but he was
very hungry. Suddenly I saw some red objects floating near us in the
water. I looked again. Oh, how eager I felt to get them--they were
oranges. They were too far off to reach. I was afraid to quit the
grating. I had no strength left to swim. No sooner did Peter see them
than he slid off the raft, and swimming round them collected a dozen or
more before him, and pushing them on enabled me to pick them out of the
water. I felt greatly relieved when he was once more safe on the
grating. Oh, how delicious those oranges were! They were the means, I
doubt not, of preserving our lives. They quenched our thirst, but they
could not stop the pangs of hunger. The sun rose higher and higher,
till we guessed it was noon. The wind went down, but the sea still
continued to tumble us about most uncomfortably. Both of us were
becoming very drowsy when we started up--a loud shout sounded in our
ears. "Why, lads, you keep a bad look-out on board your craft," said a
voice. We looked up--a large ship was passing us. "Don't fear--we'll
pick you up," said the former speaker. I heard the cry of "helm's
alee!" The yards swung round, and the ship was rounded too. By that
time she seemed to have got a long way from us. Presently, however, we
saw a boat dashing among the seas towards us. I thought that her bow
would have come right down on our raft, but just then I felt a strong
arm grasp me by the shoulder, and haul me in, while Peter was treated in
the same way, and we were quickly alongside the ship. We were lifted on
board. She appeared full of people, who looked very kindly at us. At
first I could not speak a word; I did not know why. I thought that I
was going to say something, but no sound was produced. The people who
stood round remarked that I was a foreigner, and two or three people
came up and addressed me in strange languages, but of course I was not
more likely to answer them than I was my own countrymen. At last I
heard Peter Pongo, who had been much concerned at my silence, say, "Him
officer--speakie by and by." This remark seemed to satisfy those
present, and in about an hour I was able to sit up and ex