it was a long while before the pale pink gleam to the eastward spread up into the sky far enough to thin the shadows which hung over my dead fleet heavily, and longer still before i had light enough to venture to begin my scrambling walk from ship to ship again. it seemed to me, indeed, that the mist lay lower and was a good deal thicker than on the preceding evening; and this, with the fiery glow that was in it when the sunrise came, gave me hope that a douse of rain might be coming—which chance of getting the water that i longed for heartened me even more than did the up-coming of the sun.
my throat was hurting me a good deal because of its dryness, and my itching thirst was all the stronger because the last food i had eaten—being the mess left in the pan by the two men who had killed each other—had been a salt-meat stew. of hunger i did not feel much, save for gripes in my inside now and then; but i was weak because of my emptiness—as i discovered when i got on my legs, and found myself staggering a little and the things around me swimming before my eyes. and what was worse than that was a dull stupidity which so possessed me that i could not think clearly; and so for a while kept me wandering about the deck of the brig aimlessly, while my wits went wool-gathering instead of trying to work out some plan—even a foolish plan—which would cheer me up with hopes of pulling through.
i might have gone on all day that way, very likely, if i had not been aroused suddenly by feeling a big drop of rain on my face; and only a moment later—the thick mist, i suppose, being surcharged with water, and some little waft of wind in its upper region having loosened its vent-peg—i was in the thick of a dashing shower. so violent was the downpour that in less than a minute the deck was streaming, and i had only to plug with my shirt one of the scuppers amidships to have in another minute or two a little lake of fresh sweet water from which—lying on my belly, with the rain pelting down on me—i drank and drank until at last i was full. and the feel of the rain on my body was almost as good as the drinking of it, for it was deliciously cool and yet not chill.
when i got at last to my legs again, with the dryness gone from my throat and only a little pain there because of the swollen glands, i found that i walked steadily and that my head was clear too; and for the moment i was so entirely filled with water that i was not hungry at all. presently the rain stopped, and that set me to thinking of finding some better way to keep a store of water by me than leaving it in a pool on the open deck; where, indeed, it would not stay long, but would ooze out through the scupper and be sopped up by the rotten planks.
and so, though i did not at all fancy going below on the old brig, i went down the companion-way into the cabin to search for a vessel of some sort that would be water-tight; and shivered a little as i entered that dusky place, and did not venture to move about there until my eyes got accustomed to the half darkness for fear that i should go stumbling over dead men's bones.
as it turned out, the cabin was bare enough of dead people, and of pretty much everything else; from which i inferred that in the long past time when the brig had been wrecked her crew had got safe away from her, and had been able in part to strip her before they left her alone upon the sea. what i wanted, however, they had not taken away. in a locker i found a case made to hold six big bottles, in which the skipper had carried his private stock of liquors very likely; and two of the bottles, no doubt being empty when the cabin was cleared, had been left behind. they served my turn exactly, and i brought them on deck and filled them from my pool of rain-water—and so was safe against thirst for at least another day.
being thus freshened by my good drink, and cheered by the certainty of having water by me, i sat down for a while on the cabin-scuttle that i might puzzle out a plan for getting to some ship so recently storm-slain that aboard of her still would be eatable food. as for rummaging in the hold of the brig, i knew that no good could come of it—she having lain there, as i judged, for a good deal more than half a century; and for the same reason i knew that i only would waste time in searching the other old wrecks about me for stores. all that was open to me was to press toward the edge of the wreck-pack, for there alone could i hope to find what i was after—and there it pretty certainly would be. but after my miserable experience of the preceding day it was plain that before i started on my hunting expedition i must hit upon some way of laying a course and holding it; or else, most likely, go rambling from wreck to wreck until i grew so weak from starvation that on one or another of them i should fall down at last and die.
close beside me, as i sat on the hatch, was the brig's binnacle, and in it i could see the shrivelled remnant of what had been the compass-card; and the sight of this put into my head presently the thought—that might have got there sooner had my wits been sharper—to look for a compass still in working order and by means of it to steer some sort of a steady course. the argument against this plan was plain enough, and it was a strong one: that in holding as well as i could to any straight line i might only get deeper and deeper into my maze—for i was turned around completely, and while i knew that i could not be very far from the edge of my island of flotsam i had not the faintest notion in which direction that near edge lay.
for some minutes longer i sat on the hatch thinking the matter over and trying to hit on something that would open to me a better prospect of success; and all the while i had a hungry pain in my stomach that made clear thinking difficult, and that at the same time urged me to do quickly anything that gave even the least promise of getting food. and so the upshot of the matter was that i slung my two bottles of water over my shoulders with a bit of line that i found in the brig's cabin—making the slings short, that the bottles might hang close under my arms and be pretty safe against breaking—and then away i went on my cruise after a compass still on speaking terms with the north pole.
that i would find one seemed for a good while unlikely; for i searched a score and more of wrecks, and on every one of them the binnacle either was empty or the needle entirely rusted away. but at last i came to a barque that had a newer look about her than that of the craft amidst which she was lying, and that also had her binnacle covered with a tarred canvas hood such as is used when vessels are lying in port. how the hood came to be where it was on that broken wreck was more than i could account for; but by reason of its being in place the binnacle had been well protected from the weather, and i found to my delight that the compass inside was in working trim.
it was an awkward thing to carry, being an old-fashioned big square box heavily and clumsily made; but i was so glad to get it that i was not for quarrelling with it, though it did for a little put me to a puzzle as to how i should pack it along. what i came to was to sling it on my back knapsack-fashion, which was a poor way to have it, since every time that i looked at it i had to unsling it and then to sling it again; yet there was no other way for me to manage it, because in my scrambling from one wreck to another i needs must have both hands free. but what with this big box strapped to my shoulders, and the two big bottles dangling close up under my arm-pits, i must have looked—only there was nobody to look at me—nothing less than a figure of fun.
as i knew not which way i ought to go, and so had all ways open to me, i laid my course for the head of the compass; and was the more disposed thus to go due north because that way, as far as i could see for the mist and the mast-tangle, the wrecks lay packed so close together that passing from one to another would be easy for me—which was a matter to be considered in view of the load that i had to carry along.
but just as i was ready to start another notion struck me. i had noticed the modern look of the barque, as compared with the ancient build of the hulks amidst which she was lying, when i first came aboard of her; and as i was about to leave her—my eye being caught by the soundness of a bit of line made fast to a belaying-pin on her rail—the thought occurred to me that i might find on her something or other still fit to be called food. and when this thought came to me i unslung my compass and my water-bottles in a hurry—for i was as ravenous as a man well could be.
