with contusions or wounds, which, irritated by the salt-water, made us utter every moment piercing cries; so that there were not above twenty of us who were able to stand upright or walk.  Almost our whole stock was exhausted; we had no more wine than was sufficient for four days, and we had not above a dozen fish left.  In four days, said we, we shall be in want of every thing, and death will be unavoidable.  Thus arrived the seventh day since we had been abandoned; we calculated that, in case the boats had not stranded on the coast, they would want, at least, three or four times twenty-four hours to reach St. Louis.  Time was further required to equip ships, and for these ships to find us; we resolved to hold out as long as possible.  In the course of the day, two soldiers slipped behind the only barrel of wine we had left; they had bored a hole in it, and were drinking by means of a reed; we had all sworn, that he who should employ such means should be punished with death.  This law was instantly put in execution, and the two trespassers were thrown into the sea.[28]

This same day terminated the existence of a child, twelve years of age, named Leon; he died away like a lamp which ceases to burn for want of aliment.  Every thing spoke in favor of this amiable young creature, who merited a better fate.  His angelic countenance, his melodious voice, the interest inspired by his youth, which was increased by the courage he had shown, and the services he had performed, for he had already made, in the preceding year, a campaign in the East Indies, all this filled us with the tenderest interest for this young victim, devoted to a death so dreadful and premature.  Our old soldiers, and our people in general, bestowed upon him all the care which they thought calculated to prolong his existence.  It was in vain; his strength, at last, forsook him.  Neither the wine, which we gave him without regret, nor all the means which could be employed, could rescue him from his sad fate; he expired in the arms of Mr. Coudin, who had not ceased to shew him the kindest attention.  As long as the strength of this young marine had allowed him to move, he ran continually from one side to the other, calling, with loud cries, for his unhappy mother, water, and food.  He walked, without discrimination, over the feet and legs of his companions in misfortune, who, in their turn, uttered cries of anguish, which were every moment repeated.  But their complaints were very seldom accompanied by menaces; they pardoned every thing in the poor youth, who had caused them.  Besides, he was, in fact, in a state of mental derangement, and in his uninterrupted alienation he could not be expected to behave, as if he had still retained some use of reason.