Then I
went below and lighted the lamps, and having fixed them in their
places so that they might be seen from the boat I made another
attempt to bring the vessel round on the starboard tack and keep
her to the windward.
All through that long dark night I beat about on the rough sea with
the snow driving cold and sharp upon me, and the waves breaking on
the deck. I was tired and sleepy after a hard day's work, yet I
could not think of this, nor of my hunger and my cold hands and
feet. My only object now was to recover my messmates, and as the
night wore on without my seeing any sign of them, I grew utterly
hopeless, for they were without food and far from land, and God
alone knew what had become of them.
From my despair at the probable fate of the boat, however, I
gradually realized the fact that my own condition was not without
peril. Here was I, a slip of a lad, alone and helpless, out in the
open sea, in a schooner that three men could only with difficulty
manage. I had but small skill in seamanship. I knew almost nothing
of my whereabouts, and, added to these disadvantages, I had the
physical discomforts to endure of fatigue, hunger, and cold.
At about nine o'clock I went below to get something to eat. The
fire was out, so I could not make any coffee; but there was a
bottle of spirits in the locker, and fancying this might do me good
I, for the first time in my life, drank some.
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