"'The steward's wife at times sang psalms, and at times wept. She had a
very sweet voice, but her lips were soon glued together for want of
water, and she could sing no longer.

"'When the sun rose on the fourth day there was no vessel to be seen.
Some were raving for water, and others sat crouched under the boat's
thwarts in silent despair. But, toward evening, the sky clouded over,
and there fell a heavy rain, which refreshed us. We took the gown from
off the steward's wife, and spread it, and caught the water; and we all
drank until our thirst was quenched--even our wet clothes were a comfort
to us; still we were gnawed with hunger. That night we slept; but the
next morning every man's eyes flashed, and we all looked as if we would
eat each other; and there were whisperings and noddings going on in the
bow of the boat; and a negro who was with us took out his knife, and
sharpened it on the boat's gunnel. No one asked him why. We spoke not,
but we all had our own thoughts. It was dreadful to look at our hollow
cheeks--our eyes sunken deep, but glaring like red-hot coals--our long
beards and haggard faces--every one ready to raise his hand against the
other. The poor woman never complained or said a word after she left off
singing; her thoughts appeared elsewhere. She sat for hours motionless,
with her eyes fixed on the still blue water, as if she would pierce its
depth.

"'At last the negro came aft; and we were each upon our guard as he
passed us, for we had seen him sharpen his knife. He went to the
sternsheets, where the poor woman sat, and we all knew what he intended
to do, for he only acted our own thoughts. She was still hanging over
the gunnel, with her eyes fixed downward, and she heeded not his
approach. He caught her by the hair, and dragged her head toward him.