As soon as the mast had been
stepped and rigged, and the sails set (although there was hardly a
breath of wind), Philip explained to the men the necessity of reducing
the quantity of water, and it was agreed that it should be served out
so as to extend the supply to twelve days, the allowance being reduced
to half a pint per day. There was a debate at this time, as the raft was in two parts, whether
it would not be better to cast off the smaller one and put all the
people on board the other; but this proposal was overruled, as in the
first place, although the boats had deserted them, the number on the
raft had not much diminished, and moreover, the raft would steer much
better under sail, now that it had length, than it would do if they
reduced its dimensions and altered its shape to a square mass of
floating wood. For three days it was a calm, the sun poured down his hot beams upon
them, and the want of water was severely felt; those who continued to
drink spirits suffered the most. On the fourth day the breeze sprung up favourably, and the sail was
filled; it was a relief to their burning brows and blistered backs;
and as the raft sailed on at the rate of four miles an hour, the men
were gay and full of hope. The land below the cocoa-nut trees was now
distinguishable, and they anticipated that the next day they could
land and procure the water, which they now so craved for. All night
they carried sail, but the next morning they discovered that the
current was strong against them, and that what they gained when the
breeze was fresh, they lost from the adverse current as soon as it
went down; the breeze was always fresh in the morning, but it fell
calm in the evening. Thus did they continue for four days more, every
noon being not ten miles from the land but the next morning swept away
to a distance, and having their ground to retrace. Eight days had now
passed, and the men, worn out with exposure to the burning sun, became
discontented and mutinous. At one time they insisted that the raft
should be divided, that they might gain the land with the other half;
at another, that the provisions which they could no longer eat should
be thrown overboard to lighten the raft. The difficulty under which
they lay, was the having no anchor or grapnel to the raft, the boats
having carried away with them all that had been taken from the ship. Philip then proposed to the men, that, as every one of them had such a
quantity of dollars, the money should be sewed up in canvas bags, each
man's property separate; and that with this weight to the ropes they
would probably be enabled to hold the raft against the current for one
night, when they would be able the next day to gain the shore; but
this was refused--they would not risk their money. No, no--fools! they would sooner part with their lives by the most miserable of
all deaths. Again and again was this proposed to them by Philip and
Krantz, but without success. In the meantime, Amine had kept up her courage and her spirits;
proving to Philip a valuable adviser and a comforter in his
misfortunes. "Cheer up, Philip," would she say; "we shall yet build
our cottage under the shade of those cocoa-nut trees, and pass a
portion, if not the remainder of our lives in peace; for who indeed
is there who would think to find us in these desolate and untrodden
regions?" Schriften was quiet and well-behaved; talked much with Amine, but with
nobody else. Indeed he appeared to have a stronger feeling in favour
of Amine than he had ever shown before. He watched over her and
attended her; and Amine would often look up after being silent, and
perceived Schriften's face wear an air of pity and melancholy, which
she had believed it impossible that he could have exhibited. Another day passed; again they neared the land, and again did the
breeze die away, and they were swept back by the current. The men now
rose, and in spite of the endeavours of Philip and Krantz, they rolled
into the sea all the provisions and stores, everything but one cask of
spirits and the remaining stock of water; they then sat down at the
upper end of the raft with gloomy, threatening looks, and in close
consultation. Another night closed in: Philip was full of anxiety. Again he urged
them to anchor with their money, but in vain; they ordered him away,
and he returned to the after part of the raft, upon which Amine's
secure retreat had been erected; he leant on it in deep thought and
melancholy, for he imagined that Amine was asleep. "What disturbs you, Philip?" "What disturbs me? The avarice and folly of these men. They will die,
rather than risk their hateful money. They have the means of saving
themselves and us, and they will not. There is weight enough in
bullion on the fore part of the raft to hold a dozen floating masses
such as this, yet they will not risk it. Cursed love of gold! it makes
men fools, madmen, villains. We have now but two days' water--doled
out as it is drop by drop. Look at their emaciated, broken down,
wasted forms, and yet see how they cling to money, which probably
they will never have occasion for, even if they gain the land. I am
distracted!" "You suffer, Philip, you suffer from privation; but I have been
careful, I thought that this would come; I have saved both water and
biscuit--I have here four bottles;--drink, Philip, and it will relieve
you." Philip drank; it did relieve him, for the excitement of the day had
pressed heavily on him. "Thanks, Amine--thanks, dearest! I feel better now.--Good Heaven! are
there such fools as to value the dross of metal above one drop of
water in a time of suffering and privation such as this?" The night closed in as before; the stars shone bright but there was no
moon, Philip had risen at midnight to relieve Krantz from the steerage
of the raft. Usually the men had lain about in every part of the raft,
but this night the majority of them remained forward. Philip was
communing with his own bitter thoughts, when he heard a scuffle
forward, and the voice of Krantz crying out to him for help. He
quitted the helm, and seizing his cutlass ran forward, where he found
Krantz down, and the men securing him. He fought his way to him, but
was himself seized and disarmed. "Cut away--cut away," was called out
by those who held him; and, in a few seconds, Philip had the misery to
behold the after part of the raft, with Amine upon it, drifted apart
from the one on which he stood. "For mercy's sake! my wife--my
Amine--for Heaven's sake save her!" cried Philip, struggling in vain
to disengage himself. Amine also, who had run to the side of the raft,
held out her arms--it was in vain--they were separated more than a
cable's length. Philip made one more desperate struggle, and then fell
down deprived of sense and motion.