n the vast reservoir
of the ocean under and around them there was no lack of nourishing food,
if they could only grasp it; but the sailor well knew that the shy,
slippery denizens of the deep are not to be captured at will, and that,
with all the poor schemes they might be enabled to contrive, their
efforts to capture even a single fish might be exerted in vain.

Still they could try; and with that feeling of hopeful confidence which
usually precedes such trials, they set about making preparations.

The first thing was to make hooks and lines. There chanced to be some
pins in their clothing; and with these Ben soon constructed a tolerable
set of hooks. A line was obtained by untwisting a piece of rope, and
respinning it to the proper thickness; and then a float was found by
cutting a piece of wood to the proper dimensions. And for a sinker
there was the leaden bullet with which little William had of late so
vainly endeavoured to allay the pangs of thirst. The bones and fins of
the flying-fish--the only part of it not eaten--would serve for bait.
They did not promise to make a very attractive one; for there was not a
morsel of flesh left upon them; but Ben knew that there are many kinds
of fish inhabiting the great ocean that will seize at any sort of
bait,--even a piece of rag,--without considering whether it be good for
them or not.

They had seen fish several times near the raft, during that very day;
but suffering as they were from thirst more than hunger, and despairing
of relief to the more painful appetite, they had made no attempt to
capture them. Now, however, they were determined to set about it in
earnest.

The rain had ceased falling; the breeze no longer disturbed the surface
of the sea. The clouds had passed over the canopy of the heavens,--the
sky was clear, and the sun bright and hot as before.

Ben standing erect upon the raft, with the baited hook in his hand,
looked down into the deep blue water.

Even the smallest fish could have been seen many fathoms below the
surface, and far over the ocean.

William on the other side of the raft was armed with hook and line, and
equally on the alert.

For a long time their vigil was unrewarded. No living thing came within
view. Nothing was under their eyes save the boundless field of
ultramarine,--beautiful, but to them, at that moment, marked only by a
miserable monotony.

They had stood thus for a full hour, when an exclamation escaping from