There was a light wind, and the day was fair, and Widdy, who had all the instinct of an old salt, headed the raft, as well as he could, toward Cuba. They did not hope to reach it, or, rather, they hoped they would be picked up before having to sail so far.
Of their voyage on the raft they talked for many years afterward, for it was a novel experience. At first, it was not so bad, for the sea was calm, and they even built a fire and cooked some fish which they caught. Senor Valdez volunteered to serve in the "galley," as Dick called it, the Cuban gentleman proving an expert chef, even with such rude facilities at his command. He and his son were jolly good companions, as well, for, now that they had each other, no hardships seemed too much for them.
The raft, naturally, made slow progress, but to the boys anything was better than remaining on the lonely island, waiting for a vessel to take them off.
For three days they sailed on, uneventfully. They had enough to eat to keep them from feeling hungry, though there was no great variety, and they had water to drink, though it was flat and warm. They even managed to get some sleep on piles of seaweed which had been put on the raft.
But the sea, as if tired of being so calm, kicked up a fuss on the fourth day out, and waves began to come aboard. The fire was put out, and some of the tins of water washed overboard. This was
