That we might be
      ready to avail ourselves, as far as possible, of any shower which
      might fall we took off our shirts, to make use of them as we had
      of the sheets—not hoping, of course, to get more in this way,
      even under the most favorable circumstances, than half a gill at
      a time. No signs of a cloud appeared during the day, and the
      agonies of our thirst were nearly intolerable. At night, Peters
      obtained about an hour’s disturbed sleep, but my intense
      sufferings would not permit me to close my eyes for a single
      moment. August 5. To-day, a gentle breeze springing up carried us through
      a vast quantity of seaweed, among which we were so fortunate as
      to find eleven small crabs, which afforded us several delicious
      meals. Their shells being quite soft, we ate them entire, and
      found that they irritated our thirst far less than the barnacles. Seeing no trace of sharks among the seaweed, we also ventured to
      bathe, and remained in the water for four or five hours, during
      which we experienced a very sensible diminution of our thirst. Were greatly refreshed, and spent the night somewhat more
      comfortably than before, both of us snatching a little sleep. August 6. This day we were blessed by a brisk and continual rain,
      lasting from about noon until after dark. Bitterly did we now
      regret the loss of our jug and carboy; for, in spite of the
      little means we had of catching the water, we might have filled
      one, if not both of them. As it was, we contrived to satisfy the
      cravings of thirst by suffering the shirts to become saturated,
      and then wringing them so as to let the grateful fluid trickle
      into our mouths. In this occupation we passed the entire day. August 7. Just at daybreak we both at the same instant descried a
      sail to the eastward, and _evidently coming towards us!_ We
      hailed the glorious sight with a long, although feeble shout of
      rapture; and began instantly to make every signal in our power,
      by flaring the shirts in the air, leaping as high as our weak
      condition would permit, and even by hallooing with all the
      strength of our lungs, although the vessel could not have been
      less than fifteen miles distant. However, she still continued to
      near our hulk, and we felt that, if she but held her present
      course, she must eventually come so close as to perceive us. In
      about an hour after we first discovered her, we could clearly see
      the people on her decks. She was a long, low, and rakish-looking
      topsail schooner, with a black ball in her foretopsail, and had,
      apparently, a full crew. We now became alarmed, for we could
      hardly imagine it possible that she did not observe us, and were
      apprehensive that she meant to leave us to perish as we were—an
      act of fiendish barbarity, which, however incredible it may
      appear, has been repeatedly perpetuated at sea, under
      circumstances very nearly similar, and by beings who were
      regarded as belonging to the human species. {*2} In this
      instance, however, by the mercy of God, we were destined to be
      most happily deceived; for, presently we were aware of a sudden
      commotion on the deck of the stranger, who immediately afterward
      ran up a British flag, and, hauling her wind, bore up directly
      upon us. In half an hour more we found ourselves in her cabin. She proved to be the Jane Guy, of Liverpool, Captain Guy, bound
      on a sealing and trading voyage to the South Seas and Pacific. CHAPTER 14


      The _Jane Guy_ was a fine-looking topsail schooner of a hundred
      and eighty tons burden. She was unusually sharp in the bows, and
      on a wind, in moderate weather, the fastest sailer I have ever
      seen. Her qualities, however, as a rough sea-boat, were not so
      good, and her draught of water was by far too great for the trade
      to which she was destined. For this peculiar service, a larger
      vessel, and one of a light proportionate draught, is
      desirable—say a vessel of from three hundred to three hundred and
      fifty tons. She should be bark-rigged, and in other respects of a
      different construction from the usual South Sea ships. It is
      absolutely necessary that she should be well armed. She should
      have, say ten or twelve twelve-pound carronades, and two or three
      long twelves, with brass blunderbusses, and water-tight
      arm-chests for each top. Her anchors and cables should be of far
      greater strength than is required for any other species of trade,
      and, above all, her crew should be numerous and efficient—not
      less, for such a vessel as I have described, than fifty or sixty
      able-bodied men. The Jane Guy had a crew of thirty-five, all able
      seamen, besides the captain and mate, but she was not altogether
      as well armed or otherwise equipped, as a navigator acquainted
      with the difficulties and dangers of the trade could have
      desired. Captain Guy was a gentleman of great urbanity of manner, and of
      considerable experience in the southern traffic, to which he had
      devoted a great portion of his life. He was deficient, however,
      in energy, and, consequently, in that spirit of enterprise which
      is here so absolutely requisite. He was part owner of the vessel
      in which he sailed, and was invested with discretionary powers to
      cruise in the South Seas for any cargo which might come most
      readily to hand. He had on board, as usual in such voyages,
      beads, looking-glasses, tinder-works, axes, hatchets, saws,
      adzes, planes, chisels, gouges, gimlets, files, spokeshaves,
      rasps, hammers, nails, knives, scissors, razors, needles, thread,
      crockery-ware, calico, trinkets, and other similar articles. The schooner sailed from Liverpool on the tenth of July, crossed
      the Tropic of Cancer on the twenty-fifth, in longitude twenty
      degrees west, and reached Sal, one of the Cape Verd islands, on
      the twenty-ninth, where she took in salt and other necessaries
      for the voyage. On the third of August, she left the Cape Verds
      and steered southwest, stretching over toward the coast of
      Brazil, so as to cross the equator between the meridians of
      twenty-eight and thirty degrees west longitude. This is the
      course usually taken by vessels bound from Europe to the Cape of
      Good Hope, or by that route to the East Indies. By proceeding
      thus they avoid the calms and strong contrary currents which
      continually prevail on the coast of Guinea, while, in the end, it
      is found to be the shortest track, as westerly winds are never
      wanting afterward by which to reach the Cape.