with food and drink while starving can appreciate the feelings that filled the heart of the poor youth with laughter and thanksgiving; but his joy was not selfish, for the prospect of immediate personal relief had but a secondary place in his thoughts.
Hastening with the inestimable treasure to the place where his brother and sister lay, he carefully spread it out on a piece of sailcloth, and cut a few thin slices of the pork before arousing them.
“Awake, sister, and eat!” he said at last, gently shaking Pauline by the shoulder.
“O Dominick!” she exclaimed, raising herself, and gazing eagerly at the food. “I was dreaming of this when you awoke me!”
“That’s odd, now,” said little Otto, who had also been aroused, “for I was dreaming of eating! And I am so hung—”
He got no further, for, having clutched a handful of biscuit, he suddenly stopped the way of utterance.
“How good of you, Dom!” said Pauline, eating with as much relish, though not with such voracity, as her little brother, “Where did you get this?”
“No matter; eat and be thankful,” said Dominick curtly, for he was himself eating with wolfish haste by that time. He restrained himself, however, after a few minutes.
“Hold! We must not indulge too freely. It will hurt us after fasting so long. Besides, this supply is very small, and must be made to last as long as possible. No, my boy, you must eat no more at this time, but you may drink a little.”
About a table-spoonful of water was measured out to each, and then the remainder of the food was carefully wrapped up and put away.
“Do you think that this supply was hidden by one of the poor fellows who left us this morning?” asked Pauline.
“I think so; and no doubt his motive was a good one. You know he was very fond of his messmate. I should think he saved up his allowance to help him; but, whatever the motive, it has proved a blessing to us—”
He ceased speaking, for both sister and little brother had drooped their weary heads, and were again in a heavy slumber. Dominick himself felt intensely the desire to follow their example, but he resisted it, feeling that it was his duty to watch for the long-expected sail that never appeared. At first his efforts were successful, but by degrees the tendency to sleep became so overpowering that his struggles were unavailing. Sense of duty and every other motive gave way before it; his head finally dropped forward, and, with a heavy sigh of contentment, he followed his brother and sister to the land of Nod.
Profound, prolonged, and refreshing was that sweet slumber, after the first good meal these poor castaways had eaten for many days. The weather fortunately continued bright and warm, so that they did not suffer so much from exposure as on previous days, and the gentle rocking of the boat tended to deepen and prolong their repose.
Thus they floated peacefully during the greater part of that day—the one solitary speck on the surface of the great ocean, for the albatross seemed to have finally forsaken them.
Towards noon a light westerly breeze sprang up. It was not sufficient to raise a sea or disturb the sleepers, but, in conjunction with ocean currents, it drifted them to the south-east at a considerable rate, so that in the evening, without the aid of oar or sail, they were far from the spot upon the sea where we introduced them to the reader.
At last Dominick awoke with a long-drawn sigh, and, raising his head, looked over the side of the boat. An exclamation of surprise and joy broke from him, for there, like a speck, where something like a heavy bank of clouds rested on the horizon, was the long-expected sail.
His first impulse was to awaken the sleepers, but he checked himself. He would look more carefully. His eyes might be deceiving him, and the disappointment if he should be mistaken would be overwhelming. He would spare them that. Rising to his feet he shaded his eyes with one hand, and gazed long and earnestly.
The longer he looked, however, and the more he rubbed his eyes, the more convinced was he that a vessel was really in sight.
“Pauline,” he said at length, with suppressed emotion, as he gently shook her arm, “see, God has answered our prayers: a vessel is in sight!”
The poor girl raised herself quickly, with an exclamation of thankfulness, and gazed intently in the direction pointed out.
“It is, surely it is a ship,” she said, “but—but—don’t you think there is something curious about its appearance?”
“I have indeed been puzzled during the last few minutes,” replied Dominick. “It seems as if there were something strange under her, and her position, too, is rather odd.—Ho! Otto, rouse up, my boy, and look at the vessel coming to save us. Your eyes are sharp! Say, d’you see anything strange about her?”
Thus appealed to, Otto, who felt greatly refreshed by his good meal and long sleep, sat up and also gazed at the vessel in question.
“No, Dom,” he said at length; “I don’t see much the matter with her, except that she leans over on one side a good deal, and there’s something black under and around her.”
“Can it be a squall that has struck her?” said Pauline. “Squalls, you know, make ships lie over very much at times, and cause the sea round them to look very dark.”
“It may be so,” returned Dominick doubtfully. “But we shall soon see, for a squall won’t take very long to bring her down to us.”
They watched the approaching vessel with intense eagerness, but did not again speak for a considerable time. Anxiety and doubt kept them silent. There was the danger that the vessel might fail to observe them, and as their oars had been washed away they had no means of hoisting a flag of distress. Then there was the unaccountable something about the vessel’s appearance which puzzled and filled them with uncertainty. At last they drew so near that Dominick became all too well aware of what it was, and a sinking of the heart kept him still silent for a time.
“Brother,” said Pauline at last in a sad voice, as she turned her dark eyes on Dominick, “I fear it is only a wreck.”
“You are right,” he replied gloomily; “a wreck on a barren shore, too. Not a scrap of vegetation on it, as far as I can see—a mere sandbank. Currents are carrying us towards it, and have led us to fancy that the vessel was moving.”
He spoke with bitterness, for the disappointment was very great, and physical weakness had rendered him less able to bear it than he might otherwise have been.
“Don’t get grumpy, Dom,” said Otto, with a slightly humorous look that was peculiar to him—a look which had not lighted up his eyes for many days past.
“I won’t get grumpy,” returned Dominick with sudden energy, patting the boy’s head. “It is quite clear that a good feed and a long rest were all you required to set up your plucky little spirit again.”
“Dom,” said Pauline, who had been looking intently at the wreck, “is there not something like a line of white close to the wreck?”
“Ay, there is,” replied Dominick, his countenance again becoming grave; “it is a line of breakers, through which it will be very difficult to steer our little boat.”
“Steer, Dom,” exclaimed Otto, with a look of surprise; “how can you talk of steering at all, without oar or helm?”
“I must make one of the floor-planks do for both,” returned Dominick.
“I say,” continued the boy, “I’m horribly hungry. Mayn’t I have just a bite or two more?”
“Stay, I’m thinking,” replied the other.
“Think fast then, please, for the wolf inside of me is howling.”
The result of Dominick’s thinking was that he resolved to consume as much of their stock of provisions as possible in one meal, in order to secure all the strength that was available by such means, and thus fit them for the coming struggle with the surf. “For,” said he, “if we get capsized far from the shore, we have no chance of reaching it by swimming in our present weak condition.