No time, however, was to be lost. All of them asked for water, and
pointed to the horizon, to know in which direction they should go. My
stone jug was full; I handed it to the man at the helm, who seemed to be
the captain; but the honest and kind-hearted fellow, pouring out a small
quantity in the cup, gave some to all his companions before he would
taste any himself. The jug was a large one, containing two gallons or
more, but of course was soon emptied.

I gave them a fried mackerel, which I had kept for my supper; they
passed it to the captain, and, in spite of his generous denial, they
insisted upon his eating it immediately. Seeing which, I showed them
nine or ten other raw fishes, two or three of which were heavy, and
proposed to cook them. They sang and laughed: cook the fish! No; little
cooking is wanted when men are starving. They divided them brotherly;
and this supply, added to the honey for the captain and the bear's
grease for the sailors, seemed to have endowed them with new life.

The captain and four of the men, with oars, stepped into my skiff. At
that moment the stars were beginning to appear; and pointing out to him
one in the east as a guide, we ploughed our way towards the shore,
greatly favoured both by the wind and the waves. In a singular mixture
of English, French, Italian, and Latin, the captain made me comprehend
that his vessel had been a Russian brig, bound from Asitka, in Russian
America, to Acapulco, in Mexico, for a supply of grain, tallow, and
spirits; that it had been destroyed by fire during the night, scarcely
allowing time for the men to launch the long-boat. No provisions could
be procured; the boxes and kegs that had been taken in the hurry were of
no use; that they had been rowing forty-eight hours without food or
water, and were ignorant of their distance from the shore; and, finally,
that they had perceived my skiff a good half-hour before I awoke;