without any thought at all, vacantly gazing on
the ocean.

We had three days of dead calm. The sun
glared down upon us pitilessly, and I thought
how pleasant it would be to throw myself into the
sea, and sink calmly to death beneath its waves.
I lost all wish to live—for life seemed horrible.
I cannot describe the days as they passed,
separately one by one. When I look upon them
they all seem to have been one misery. I
remember that on the third day out poor Kitty's
baby died—indeed, it had been dying from the
first. It never had a chance of living, for it
had no fit attention and no sustenance. The
poor mother cried bitterly when at last it became
cold on her bosom, but its death was a merciful
release. Wrapped in a shawl of bright colours,
it was thrown overboard, but was so light that
it could not sink, and floated for hours on a sea
so calm in the hot sun that scarce a ripple could
be seen. At last it disappeared suddenly, the prey
of some hungry shark, and when afterwards the
horrid monsters crowded round our boat they
added to our misery. Hitherto the children had
been plunged into the sea every morning to
preserve them in health, but we dared not continue
this practice with those horrid creatures on our
lee. Every evening, before the sun went down,
a sailor was sent to the top of the mast to look
out. But every evening he reported no vessel
in sight, and again and again the sun set on us
without hope. Then we had nights of drenching
pitiless rain, for we were now in the region
where squalls come up with great fury. The
sky suddenly becomes dark, and a quick sharp
wind arises, herald of a rain-storm. When
travelling by the steamers in these latitudes the
captain calls out, "There's a squall coming;
ladies better go below," upon which there is a
great rushing and collecting of books and shawls,
and in a few moments the decks are deserted,
while the passengers, peeping out of the windows,
rather enjoy the little excitement. Very different
was our case, for we could only watch the storm
gathering in the distance, and know that we had
to lie there to be drenched through, and to dry
again under the blazing sun, half a dozen times
in a day, and at night to have the same trouble,
only aggravated by the darkness.

From this cause, and the incessant contact
with salt water, which continually leaked into
the boat, the delicate skin of the women and
children became frightfully irritated, and in the
total absence of fresh water this irritation
produced sores. Ah me! What a horrid thing it
was to be literally surrounded by water, soaked
through with it, our eyes aching with the sight
of it, and yet longing with unutterable agony
for a draught of it to quench our burning thirst,
or to wash our smarting blistering skin.

One night when it was raining heavily I tried
the experiment of lying down with my mouth
open to catch a few stray drops, but a huge
wave came dashing along and burst full upon
us, pouring down my throat and almost choking
me. It was cruelly salt and nauseous.

I would sometimes fall asleep from pure
exhaustion, only to wake with a shuddering start
at feeling something on my face. I would put
up my hands in a fright and find my face covered
with the dirty wet feet of a sleeping sailor.
Then I would push them away with my small
amount of strength, but that made no impression.
Then I would say, "Oh, please take your
feet away," and a heavy snore or a curse would
be the only answer. The frightful amount of
cursing and swearing common among the sailors
at a time when every day seemed likely to be
our last, filled me with horror and amazement.

I must not forget one incident, trifling in itself,
but which might have caused the death of
one of the sailors. On the day of the wreck I
had caused two or three bottles of ale and one
of claret to be put in the boat, thinking it might
be of great use to us. On the third or fourth
night out, when we were shivering helplessly
after a drenching shower of rain, we thought
that a bottle of ale should be opened for the
women and children, but not a bottle of any
sort was to be found. The rage of the captain
was awful. "Who amongst the sailors," cried
he, "could be so base, so cruel, as to drink the
ale belonging to one of the ladies, and put on
board expressly for the suffering women?" For
some time the thief could not be discovered, but
at last one of the men told who was the delinquent,
and then the captain, in his wrath, said
that the man who could be guilty of such
meanness at such a time was worthy of death, and
should be thrown overboard. And the decree
would certainly have been executed, had not Mrs.
F—— and myself implored the captain to spare
the man's life. After many prayers on our part
he consented. I do not know whether the man
was grateful or not; certainly he never said
that he was. I mention this incident to show
how men take the law into their own hands at
a time of great and common peril.

Every day now increased our suffering; the
hunger of the children was frightful, and when
the water was served out they would fight for
it with their little hands, and often upset it
entirely in their eager haste to possess it. As
the days dragged along, the men looked almost
wolfish in their hunger and desperation. And
they were hard worked, too, for they had to
row night and day alternately. Some of their
faces entirely lost their natural expression,
becoming wild with hunger and thirst. And then
a fearful talk arose among some of the crew,
that they might eat the children. But the
captain was warned of their plot, and there were
brave men among the sailors who had pity for us.

It was on the morning of the tenth day that
this frightful thought came into the heads of
three or four desperate men, and the captain
and a few trustworthy companions had made up
their minds to slay the would-be murderers that
very night in their sleep. The last and fatal
hour of our great agony seemed to be come; but
there was pity in Heaven. The evening before,
when the sun set in glorious tropical splendour,
I kissed my child in despair, because another
day had gone and had brought no relief, when