fell into a dead calm; its
surface assuming the smoothness of a mirror.

In the midst of this the raft lay motionless, and the extemporised sail
was of no use for propelling it. It served a purpose, however, in
screening off the rays of the sun, which, though not many degrees above
the horizon, was beginning to make itself felt in all its tropical
fervour.

Ben no longer required his companion to take a hand at the oar. Not but
that their danger of being overtaken was as great as ever; for although
they had made easterly some five or six knots, it was but natural to
conclude that the great raft had been doing the same; and therefore the
distance between the two would be about as before.

But whether it was that his energy had become prostrated by fatigue and
the hopelessness of their situation, or whether upon further reflection
he felt less fear of their being pursued, certain it is he no longer
showed uneasiness about making way over the water; and after once more
rising to his feet and making a fresh examination of the horizon, he
stretched himself along the raft in the shade of the tarpaulin.

The boy, at his request, had already placed himself in a similar
position, and was again buried in slumber.

"I'm glad to see he can sleep," said Brace to himself, as he lay down
alongside. "He must be sufferin' from hunger as bad as I am myself, and
as long as he's asleep he won't feel it. May be, if one could keep
asleep they'd hold out longer, though I don't know 'bout that bein' so.
I've often ate a hearty supper, and woke up in the mornin' as hungry as
if I'm gone to my bunk without a bite. Well, it an't no use o' me
tryin' to sleep as I feel now, blow'd if it is! My belly calls out loud
enough to keep old Morphis himself from nappin', and there an't a morsel
o' anything. More than forty hours have passed since I ate that last
quarter biscuit. I can think o' nothing but our shoes, and they be so
soaked wi' the sea-water, I suppose they'll do more harm than good.
They'll be sure to make the thirst a deal worse than it is, though the
Lord knows it be bad enough a'ready. Merciful Father!--nothin' to
eat!--nothin' to drink! O God, hear the prayer little Will'm ha' just
spoken and I ha' repeated, though I've been too wicked to expect bein'
heard, `_Give us this day our daily bread_'! Ah! another day or two
without it, an' we shall both be asleep forever!"

The soliloquy of the despairing sailor ended in a groa