that we, in our boat, could hardly make head ’gainst the wind and swell, which bore down on the reef close to us; the launch, which was a heavy-pulling boat and deeply laden, could not; and in a quarter of an hour we had the misery to see her in the breakers, swallowed up with all hands, together with all the provisions and water for our sustenance.  I will not attempt to describe the agony of the steward’s wife, who saw her husband perish before her eyes.  She fainted; and it was a long time before she came to again; for no one could leave his oar for a minute to assist her, as we pulled for our lives.  At last she did come to.  Poor thing!  I felt for her.  Toward night the wind lulled, and we had every appearance of fine weather coming on; but we had nothing to eat, and only a barrico of water in the boat, and we were quite exhausted with fatigue.

“’We knew that we must pull to the northward, and try and fetch the Bahama Isles, or, perhaps, some of the small quays to the southward of them, where we might procure turtle, and, perhaps, water; and when the sea had gone down, which it did very fast, we put the head of our boat in that direction, pulling all night.  At daybreak the other boat was not to be seen; it was a dead clam, but there was still a long heavy swell.  We shared out some water and rested till the evening, and then we took to our oars again.

“’We rowed hard till the morning, but when the sun rose it scorched us up.  It was impossible for us to keep to our oars without drinking, and, there being no one to take the command, our water was all gone, and we had not gained fifty miles to the northward.  On the third morning we laid down exhausted at the bottom of the boat—­we were dying not only with thirst, but with hunger; we had agreed that when night came on we would take to the oars again; but some would and some would not; so that, at last, those who had taken to their oars would pull no longer.

“’The steward’s wife at times sang psalms, and at times wept.  She had a very sweet voice, but her lips were soon glued together for want of water, and she could sing no longer.

“’When the sun rose on the fourth day there was no vessel to be seen.  Some were raving for water, and others sat crouched under the boat’s thwarts in silent despair.  But, toward evening, the sky clouded over, and there fell a heavy rain, which refreshed us.  We took the gown from off the steward’s wife, and spread it, and caught the water; and we all drank until our thirst was quenched—­even our wet clothes were a comfort to us; still we were gnawed with hunger.  That night we slept; but the next morning every man’s eyes flashed, and we all looked as if we would eat each other; and there were whisperings and noddings going on in the bow of the boat; and a negro who was with us took out his knife, and sharpened it on the boat’s gunnel.  No one asked him why.  We spoke not, but we all had our own thoughts.  It was dreadful to look