The boat leaked from the beginning, and the sailors by turns baled the water out in little cans. Exposed to the glare of a tropical sun for hours together, nearly mad with thirst, bearing her child in her weak arms, for she was too much exhausted to stand, Mrs. Murray says that often she would sit for hours without any thought at all, vacantly gazing on the ocean.
"We had," says she, "three days of dead calm. The sun glared down upon us pitilessly, and I thought how pleasant it would be to throw myself into the sea, and sink calmly to death beneath its waves. I lost all wish to live--for life seemed horrible. I cannot describe the days as they passed separately, one by one; when I look back upon them, they all seem to have been one misery. I remember that on the third day out poor Kitty's baby died--indeed, it had been dying from the first. It never had a chance of living, for it had no fit attention and no sustenance. The poor mother cried bitterly when at last it became cold on her bosom, but its death was a merciful release. Wrapped in a shawl of bright colours, it was thrown overboard, but was so light that it could not sink, and floated for hours on a sea so calm in the hot sun that scarce a ripple could be seen. At last it disappeared suddenly, the prey of some hungry shark, and when afterwards the horrid monsters crowded round our boat they added to our misery. Hitherto the children had been plunged into the sea every morning to preserve them in health, but we dared not continue this practice with those horrid creatures on our lee.... I must not forget one incident, trifling in itself, but which might have caused the death of one of the sailors. On the day of the wreck I had caused two or three bottles of ale and one of claret to be put in the boat, thinking it might be of great use to us. On the third or fourth night out, when we were shivering helplessly after a drenching shower of rain, we thought that a bottle of ale should be opened for the women and children, but not a bottle of any sort was to be found." The rage of the captain was awful, and but for the intercession of the ladies, he swore that he would have thrown the man overboard.
It was on the morning of the tenth day that the frightful thought of eating the children came into the heads of three or four desperate men, and the captain and a few trustworthy companions had made up their minds to slay the would-be murderers that very night in their sleep. The last and fatal hour of their great agony seemed to be come. On the morning of the tenth day a sail was reported, and a white towel hoisted to attract her attention. She came near enough for the captain to make out that she carried the Hamburg flag, and then "passed by on the other side." Curses loud and deep came from the sailors' lips. Then the women looked into each other's faces and the children cried, and the wolfish eyes of the would-be cannibals were again fixed upon them.