LOSS OF AN ENGLISH SLOOP. 135 
shelter ; lastly, in cutting and piling as much wood as possible 
to keep up a fire, fearing lest we should soon be unable to use 
our instruments. 
A few handsful of hips, boiled in snow water, were, during 
the first days, the sole support of our miserable lives. These 
began to fail us, and we thought ourselves fortunate in being 
able to supply their place with the marine plants which grew 
along the shore. After boiling them several hours, during 
which they lost little of their hardness, I put into the liquor 
one of the only two candles we had left. This disgusting- 
broth and the tough plants at first appeased our hunger, but 
in a few moments Ave were seized with a terrible retching, 
without having sufficient force to be able to clear our stom- 
achs. This crisis lasted about four hours, after which we 
were somewhat relieved, but fell into a state of absolute de- 
bility. 
We were, however, obliged the next day to have recourse 
to the same nourishment, which operated as before, only with 
rather less violence ; for this purpose we had used our last 
candle. We were compelled for three days to be contented 
with the hard tough plants, which made us retch every mouth- 
ful we took. At the same time our legs began to swell, and 
our whole bodies became so bloated, that notwithstanding the 
little flesh we had left, our fingers, with the smallest pressure 
upon our skin, sunk to the depth of an inch, and the impres- 
sion remained an hour afterward. Our eyes appeared as if bu- 
ried in deep cavities. Benumbed by the internal dissolution 
of our blood and by the intense cold we endured, we had 
scarcely strength to crawl by turns and revive our almost ex- 
tinguished fire, or to collect a few branches scattered upon the 
snow. 
It was then that the remembrance of my father, which had 
attended me amidst the greatest dangers, combined with the 
idea of my death to fill my heart with unusual emotion. I 
represented to myself that tender parent at first uneasy on my 
account, anxiously expecting to hear from me; afterward 
overwhelmed with grief at seeing the time elapse without 
receiving any intelligence ; and at last condemned to bewail 
the loss of his son during all the days of his old age. I wept 
myself at the thought of dying so far from his embrace with- 
out receiving his benediction. These afiecting ideas, inter- 
rupted by the groans uttered around me, were succeeded by 
barbarous projects with which the natural instinct of life in- 
spired me for support. The wretched companions of my mis- 
