- end_line
- 1810
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:18.534Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 1777
- text
- heard of from the day she left port. Every wave in my eyes seems a
soul.
As there was no steering to be done, Jarl and I sheltered ourselves as
well as we could under the awning. And for the first two days, one at a
time, and every three or four hours, we dropped overboard for a bath,
clinging to the gun-wale; a sharp look-out being kept for prowling
sharks. A foot or two below the surface, the water felt cool and
refreshing.
On the third day a change came over us. We relinquished bathing, the
exertion taxing us too much. Sullenly we laid ourselves down; turned
our backs to each other; and were impatient of the slightest casual
touch of our persons. What sort of expression my own countenance wore,
I know not; but I hated to look at Jarl’s. When I did it was a glare,
not a glance. I became more taciturn than he. I can not tell what it
was that came over me, but I wished I was alone. I felt that so long as
the calm lasted, we were without help; that neither could assist the
other; and above all, that for one, the water would hold out longer
than for two. I felt no remorse, not the slightest, for these thoughts.
It was instinct. Like a desperado giving up the ghost, I desired to
gasp by myself.
From being cast away with a brother, good God deliver me!
The four days passed. And on the morning of the fifth, thanks be to
Heaven, there came a breeze. Dancingly, mincingly it came, just
rippling the sea, until it struck our sails, previously set at the very
first token of its advance. At length it slightly freshened; and our
poor Chamois seemed raised from the dead.
Beyond expression delightful! Once more we heard the low humming of the
sea under our bow, as our boat, like a bird, went singing on its way.
- title
- Chunk 2