pulled out the bung, and was horrified to discover that the cask was empty!
"The water's gone!" I gasped.
"What!"
"It's true; there isn't a drop in the cask!"
Phil was fully as much dismayed as I was. Alone on the broad Atlantic and not a drop to drink!
"We can't live without water," he cried.
"I know that. It is worse than being without food."
"Ten times over. Where has the water gone?"
We examined the cask carefully. At the bottom was a bunghole in which a bung had been placed; but either the riding of the raft or the shock had loosened the bung, and it had dropped out and allowed the water to run away to the last drop.
"We are done for now!" groaned Phil. "We can't stand it twenty-four hours without something to drink."
"Perhaps we'll have a change in luck before that," said I; but I had my doubts.
The hours that passed after I made the discovery were terrible ones. We suffered intensely from thirst, and I was almost tempted to drink the salt water that surrounded us. Had I done so this tale would probably have never been written.
When the noonday sun shone down upon us we
