remaining human flesh to render it less revolting;
the rest chewed at their sword-belts and
cartridge-boxes, or ate pieces of their shirts and
the linings of their hats, the epicures especially
selecting those that were greasy.

The fourth morning's sun showed ten or
twelve more dead men, and the survivors wept
as they lowered them into the sea, reserving one
only for food.

The day was fine, the sunshine diffused calmness
in every heart, and a faint ray of hope
spread over the pale and haggard faces. God
heard their prayers. About four in the afternoon
a large shoal of flying-fish got entangled
under the raft. The men caught nearly two
hundred, eating the milt at once, and storing
the rest in a cask; but these fish were much
smaller than herrings, and one man alone, in his
raging hunger, could have eaten half the shoal.
The first impulse of the men (the galley-slaves
had nearly all been given to the sword and the
waves) was to thank God for this goodness.

Having dried an ounce of gunpowder in the
sun, and discovered a parcel with steel, gun,
and tinder, the soldiers made a fire in a
cask, and cooked some fish, adding to it
portions of human flesh, which proved less disgusting
when dressed, to eke out the meal. The
officers ate human flesh that day for the first
time, and from that time continued to eat it.
Unfortunately, the barrel caught fire, and
powder and tinder were all destroyed. No
more food could be cooked after this. That
night the officers, feeling stronger, were more
tranquil, and slept better; but, as if Satan himself
was on board inventing new torments, that
night there was a fresh revolt and a second
massacre. The dregs had still to be drawn off,
the dross still to be purged in the purgatorial
furnace of suffering.

A Piedmontese sergeant, who had stolen the
wine which he had been entrusted to guard,
had plotted with some Spaniards, Italians, and
negroes to throw the officers into the sea during
the night. The negroes, tempted by a bag
containing some valuables and fifteen hundred
francs, which was hung on the mast, had
persuaded these wretches that once on land
they could guide them to a place of safety.
The sailors, remaining faithful, betrayed the
plot. A Spaniard, clutching the mast, crossed
himself with one hand, and drew his knife
with the other. The sailors threw this man
into the sea. An officer's servant, an Italian,
seeing this, snatched up a boarding-axe,
wrapped himself in some canvas, and threw
himself into the sea. The mutineers rushed
forward to avenge their comrades, and a desperate
and savage fight ensued. The raft again
streamed with blood, and was strewn with dead
bodies. The soldiers shrieked for the head of
Lieutenant Danglas, and a second time threw
the sutler woman into the sea, from whence M.
Coudin again rescued her. At last the mutineers
were driven back, and the officers sank,
almost instantaneously, into a fitful sleep.

The fifth daybreak rose on only thirty men,
bruised, wounded wretches, crying out with pain
as the salt water inflamed their wounds. Not
more than twenty could stand or walk. There
were only a dozen fish now left, and wine
enough for four days. Beyond that time none
of the crew could expect to live. That day two
soldiers, discovered sucking wine from the cask,
were instantly thrown into the sea, as had been
before decreed. Soon after this a soldier's boy,
a beautiful, brave lad, who had been the pet of
the regiment, went mad, ran to and fro calling
for his mother and for food and water, and
eventually expired in the arms of M. Coudin.

There were now only twenty-seven survivors;
of these all but fifteen were covered with
wounds, and were delirious. The sutler had
broken her thigh, and her husband was wounded
in the head. The dying men still lingered
on half allowance, and it was calculated they
would consume forty bottles of wine. After a
debate, at once terrible and revolting, it was
resolved to throw these wounded people into the
sea. Three sailors and a soldier were the
selected executioners. Their companions hid
their faces and wept as the cruel work went on.

We, who have not suffered in such scenes,
must not wonder at hearts turning to stone in
the midst of such calamities. The deed done,
all arms were thrown overboard except one
sabre, which could be used to cut a rope or
hew a spar.

On the ninth day, a small white butterfly
appeared, to the joy of every one, fluttering over
the raft, then settling on the sail. Some of the
soldiers watched it with feverish eyes, and would
have fought for it as food had not the rest
declared that they would protect it, for it was an
omen of God's intended mercy. On the
following day, they saw more butterflies and some
sea-birds, that they tried in vain to allure. The
next day they raised a rude platform on the
centre of the raft, over which the sea broke,
but not often or violently. The men who still
lived resolved at last to meet death with
resignation; a lingering hope and faith still
buoyed them up. The older soldiers, who had
fought under Napoleon, to beguile the time
related their adventures; the intrepid Lavillette,
the artillery sergeant, being the foremost of
these raconteurs.

The sun had now grown intolerably burning,
the heat redoubling the thirst that consumed
these poor men. They fought and quarrelled
for shares in a lemon, some cloves of garlic,
some spiced tooth-liquid which had been found
by chance. Many of the sailors kept their hats
full of sea-water, and splashed their hair, faces,
and hands repeatedly with it; others kept pieces
of pewter in their mouths; one or two took their
wine through a quill. A small quantity of wine
now produced intoxication.

The tenth day five men declared their intention
of drowning themselves when drunk. The
officers did all they could to dissuade them, and
fresh butchery was about to commence, when a
shoal of sharks surrounded the raft, and diverted
the wretches' minds from their suicidal purpose.