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OR, LUKE FOSTER'S STRANGE VOYAGE.
175
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE DEEP BLUE SEA.
I lay several hours under the canvas, wondering how the adventure would end. At present things looked rather blue, and perhaps neither Phil nor I would live to tell the tale. At length, when I was about to give up in despair, a low rumble brought me to my feet instantly.
It was thunder!
"A storm! a storm!" I cried. "Pray God it brings us rain!"
My cries awoke Phil, and he pushed the canvas aside.
"What did you say?" he asked, feebly.
"There is a storm coming up," was my reply. "Hear the thunder?"
"What of it?"
"What of it? A storm means water, and water means something to drink!"
"Hooray! so it does!"
And the cabin boy jumped to his feet at once.
