The fierce hot sun went down into the bosom of the sea, and was followed by the short tropic twilight. The long sultry day that saw the last of their two sailor comrades, at length came to a close, without any change in their melancholy situation. The Malay alone kept his shining black eyes on the alert, as if despair had not yet prostrated him. They permitted the oars, therefore, to remain motionless between the thole pins, themselves sitting listlessly on the seats, most of them with their heads bent despairingly downward. Should a ship chance to come their way, they were as likely to be in her track lying at rest, as if engaged in laboriously rowing. For there was no object in continuing the toil no land in sight, and no knowledge of any being near. Weakness prevented them, as well as despondency.
They now no longer touched, nor thought of them. Until the day on which the ninth sailor had died of starvation, and the tenth had been struck dead by the sea-bird, the castaways had taken an occasional spell at the oars.
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