JANUARY 16.—If the crew of any passing vessel¹ had caught sight of us as we lay still and inanimate upon our sail-cloth, they would scarcely, at first sight, have hesitated to pronounce us dead.
 
My sufferings were terrible; tongue, lips, and throat were so parched² and swollen³ that if food had been at hand I question whether I could have swallowed it. So exasperated⁴ were the feelings of us all, however, that we glanced at each other with looks as savage⁵ as though we were about to slaughter⁶ and without delay eat up one another.
 
The heat was aggravated⁷ by the atmosphere being somewhat stormy. Heavy vapors⁸ gathered on the horizon, and there was a look as if it were raining all around. Longing⁹ eyes and gasping¹⁰ mouths turned involuntarily toward the clouds, and M. Letourneur, on bended knee, was raising his hands, as it might be in supplication¹¹ to the relentless¹² skies.
 
It was eleven o'clock in the morning. I listened for distant rumblings which might announce an approaching storm, but although the vapors had obstructed¹³ the sun's rays, they no longer presented the appearance of being charged with electricity. Thus our prognostications ended in disappointment; the clouds, which in the early morning had been marked by the distinctness of their outline, had melted one into another and assumed an uniform dull gray tint¹⁴; in fact, we were enveloped¹⁵ in an ordinary fog. But was it not still possible that this fog might turn to rain?
 
Happily this hope was destined¹⁶ to be realized; for in a very short time, Dowlas, with a shout of delight, declared that rain was actually coming; and sure enough, not half a mile from the raft, the dark parallel streaks¹⁷ against the sky testified that there at least rain was falling. I fancied I could see the drops rebounding¹⁹ from the surface of the water. The wind was fresh and bringing the cloud right on toward us, yet we could not suppress our trepidation²⁰ lest it should exhaust itself before it reached us.
 
But no; very soon large heavy drops began to fall, and the storm-cloud, passing over our heads, was outpouring its contents upon us. The shower, however, was very transient; already a bright streak¹⁸ of light along the horizon marked the limit of the cloud and warned us that we must be quick to make the most of what it had to give us. Curtis had placed the broken barrel in the position that was most exposed, and every sail was spread out to the fullest extent our dimensions would allow.

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