made him light-headed. Hardly knowing what he did, he drew forth the
last little bit of the biscuit, ground it between his teeth and greedily
swallowed it. The act seemed to sober him; he raised his big hand to his
brow and looked at "Dearie"; through the confusion of his thoughts he
felt he had done some despicable thing.

"That weren't fair play, were it now?" he said, looking at the bird.
"That ain't like a pal," he repeated. The bird remained silent; he
fancied reproach in its bead-like eyes, they seemed to bore into him.
"And you such a small chap, too!" he muttered; then he turned his back
on the island, and, with head resting on his elbow, uttered no further
complaint.

That second day on the raft seemed much longer than the first; the
second night of infinitely greater duration than the preceding one; but
dawn revealed the island very near, so near, indeed, the bird made up
its mind to try to reach it. It looked at the man for a moment and then
flew away. Long he watched it, a little dark spot--now that he could no
longer see the ruby on its breast! At length it was lost to sight;
swallowed up by the green blur.

The small winged creature gone, the man missed it. "'Peared like 'twas
glad to leave such a pal!" he thought regretfully. The floating timbers
became well-nigh intolerable; he kept asking himself if he could swim to
land, but, knowing his weakness from long fasting, he curbed his
impatience. His eyes grew tired with staring at the longed-for spot; he
suffered the torments of Tantalus, and finally could endure them no
longer. So making his clothes into a bundle, he tied them around his
neck and slipped into the water.