A day of comparative tranquility succeeded. The survivors erected their
mast again, which had been wantonly cut down in the battle of the night;
and endeavored to catch some fish, but in vain. They were reduced to
feed on the dead bodies of their companions. A third night followed,
broken by the plaintive cries of wretches, exposed to every kind of
suffering, ten or twelve of whom died of want, and awfully foretold the
fate of the remainder. The following day was fine. Some flying fish were
caught in the raft; which, mixed up with human flesh, afforded one
scanty meal.

A new insurrection to destroy the raft, broke out on the fourth night;
this too, was marked by perfidy, and ended in blood. Most of the rebels
were thrown into the sea. The fifth morning mustered but thirty men
alive; and these sick and wounded, with the skin of their lower
extremities corroded by the salt water. Two soldiers were detected
drinking the wine of the only remaining cask; they were instantly thrown
into the sea. One boy died, and there remained only twenty-seven; of
whom fifteen only seemed likely to live. A council of war, preceded by
the most horrid despair, was held; as the weak consumed a part of the
common store, they determined to throw them into the sea. This sentence
was put into immediate execution! and all the arms on board, which now
filled their minds with horror, were, with the exception of a single
sabre, committed to the deep.

Distress and misery increased with an accelerated ratio; and even after
the desperate measure of destroying their companions, and eating the
most nauseous aliments, the surviving fifteen could not hope for more
than a few days' existence. A butterfly lighted on their sail the ninth
day, and though it was held to be a messenger of good, yet many a