About two in the morning, the starry sky--or so it
seemed, for the drowsy watchman had not observed the
approach of any cloud--brimmed over in a deluge; and
for three days it rained without remission. The islet
was a sponge, the castaways sops; the view all gone,
even the reef concealed behind the curtain of the
falling water. The fire was soon drowned out; after a
couple of boxes of matches had been scratched in vain,
it was decided to wait for better weather; and the
party lived in wretchedness on raw tins and a ration of
hard bread.
By the 2nd February, in the dark hours of the morning
watch, the clouds were all blown by; the sun rose
glorious; and once more the castaways sat by a quick
fire, and drank hot coffee with the greed of brutes and
sufferers. Thenceforward their affairs moved in a
routine. A fire was constantly maintained; and this
occupied one hand continuously, and the others for an
hour or so in the day. Twice a day all hands bathed in
the lagoon, their chief, almost their only, pleasure.
Often they fished in the lagoon with good success.
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