SHIPWRECK OF THE MEDUSA. 319 
and last distribution was made, and, in the twinkling of an 
eye, our last resources were consumed. We were forty-two 
people who had to feed upon six biscuits and about /o2^r pints 
of water, with no hope of a farther supply. Then came the 
moment for deciding whether we were to perish among the 
breakers which defended the approach to the shores of the 
Desert, or to die of famine in continuing our route. The ma- 
jority preferred the last species of misery. We continued our 
progress along the shore, painfully pulling our oars. Upon 
the beach were distinguished several downs of white sand, 
and some small trees. We Avere thus creeping along the 
coast, observing a mournful silence, when a sailor suddenly 
exclaimed, " Behold the Moors !" We did, in fact, see various 
individuals upon the rising ground, walking at a quick pace, 
and whom we took to be the Arabs of the Desert. As we 
were very near the shore, we stood farther out to sea, fearing 
that these pretended Moors, or Arabs, would throw them- 
selves into the sea, swim out, and take us. Some hours after, 
we observed several people upon the eminence, who seemed 
to make signals to us. We examined them attentively, and 
soon recognized them to be our companions in misfortune. 
We replied to them by attaching a white handkerchief to the 
top of our mast. Then we resolved to land, at the risk of 
perishing among the breakers, which were very strong to- 
ward the shore, although the sea was calm. On approach- 
ing the beach we went toward the right, where the waves 
seemed less agitated, and endeavored to reach it, with the 
hope of being able more easily to land. Scarcely had we direct- 
ed our course to that point, when we perceived a great num- 
ber of people standing near to a little wood surrounding the 
sand hills. We recognized them to be the passengers of that 
boat, who, like ourselves, were deprived of provisions. 
Meanwhile we approached the shore, and already the foam- 
ing surge filled us with terror. Each wave that came upon 
the open sea, each billow that swept beneath our boat, made 
us bound into the air ; so we were sometimes thrown from 
the poop to the prow, and from the prow to the poop. Then, 
if our pilot had missed the sea, we would have been sunk ; 
the waves would have thrown us aground, and we would have 
been buried among the breakers. The helm of the boat was 
again given to the old pilot, who had already so happily steer- 
ed us through the dangers of the storm. He instantly threw 
into the sea the mast, the sails, and every thing that could 
impede our proceedings. When we came to the first landing 
