As soon as our mast was replaced, we made a distribution of wine; the unhappy soldiers murmured and accused us for privations, which we bore as well as they:  they fell down with fatigue.  For forty-eight hours we had taken nothing, and had been obliged to struggle incessantly against a stormy sea; like them we could hardly support ourselves; courage alone still made us act.  We resolved to employ all possible means to procure fish.  We collected all the tags from the soldiers, and made little hooks of them; we bent a bayonet to catch sharks:  all this availed us nothing; the currents carried our hooks under the raft, where they got entangled.  A shark bit at the bayonet, and straightened it.  We gave up our project.  But an extreme resource was necessary to preserve our wretched existence.  We tremble with horror at being obliged to mention that which we made use of! we feel our pen drop from our hand; a deathlike chill pervades all our limbs; our hair stands erect on our heads!—­Reader, we beseech you, do not feel indignation towards men who are already too unfortunate; but have compassion on them, and shed some tears of pity on their unhappy fate.

Those whom death had spared in the disastrous night which we have just described, fell upon the dead bodies with which the raft was covered, and cut off pieces, which some instantly devoured.  Many did not touch them; almost all the officers were of this number.  Seeing that this horrid nourishment had given strength to those who had made use of it, it was proposed to dry it, in order to render it a little less disgusting.  Those who had firmness enough to abstain from it took a larger quantity of wine.  We tried to eat sword-belts and cartouch-boxes.  We succeeded in swallowing some little morsels.  Some eat linen.  Others pieces of leather from the hats, on which there was a little grease, or rather dirt.  We were obliged to give up these last means.  A sailor attempted to eat excrements, but he could not succeed.

The day was calm and fine:  a ray of hope allayed our uneasiness for a moment.  We still expected to see the boats or some vessels; we addressed our prayers to the Eternal, and placed our confidence in him.  The half of our men were very weak, and bore on all their features the stamp of approaching dissolution.  The evening passed over, and no assistance came.  The darkness of this third night increased our alarm; but the wind was slight, and the sea less agitated.  We took some moment’s repose:  a repose which was still more terrible than our situation the preceding day; cruel dreams added to the horrors of our situation.  Tormented by hunger and thirst, our plaintive cries sometimes awakened from his sleep, the wretch who was reposing close to us.  We were even now up to our knees in the water, so that we could only repose standing, pressed against each other to form a solid mass.  The fourth morning’s sun, after our departure, at length rose on our disaster,