Presently, as Jack notched his revolver for another day, the cowpuncher observed with keen irony against himself: "Put away your weepon, Jack, or I'm liable to emit a screech at the sight tharof, and drop off into a swound, like a female I meets up with in Dodge one time, when I, aimin' to be polite, pulls out my six-shooter an' hands it to her, thinkin' mebbe she'd like to overhaul it like them towerist folks does, an' perhaps try a shot at the telegraph post in front of the Long Branch Saloon, which same post is that full o' lead I wonders it remains erect." As the sun approached the meridian the light breeze died away, burnt up by the fierce heat of the tropical rays. The sail was spread and lashed to four upright oars as an awning, and beneath its grateful shade the four castaways dozed through the afternoon. After the scanty evening meal, still very weak and worn, though much revived and strengthened, Tari, Broncho, and Jim lay down on the blankets which covered the floorboards, and, protected from the glare of the moon by the sail, fell into a deep, heavy sleep, whilst Jack sat in his usual position in the sternsheets. For some time he lost himself in dismal reverie, and gave himself up to that deep melancholy which seemed to attack his courage at times, and brought that look of weary hopelessness to his face, so strangely at variance with the whole tenor of his nature. Often had his observant friend, the cowboy, noticed these fits of sadness in his friend, and wondered what was the cause of them. Some time in his past the rolling-stone had been badly knocked over, argued Broncho, and the wound was still unhealed; it was the only explanation he could imagine to account for this awful depression which weighed upon his friend. However, whatever it was which weighed so heavily upon the rover's mind, it was presently overcome by a drowsiness born of lack of sleep. His gloomy reflections merged into dreams, his head dropped back against the gunwale, and, in a position in which only a sailor could, he slept. But, alas! his face lay outside the protection of the sail, and the full strength of the moonbeams fell upon his closed eyelids. CHAPTER V "THE SPELL OF THE MOON" Dawn broke, and the sun rose into the windless sky and turned the vast blue of the ocean into a glittering sheen, which it hurt the eyes to look upon. Of the sleepers, Tari was the first to rouse himself, and as he gained his feet and took an eager glance round the horizon, Broncho and Jim awoke, but Jack slept on. "Don't wake him," said Broncho in a low tone. "Rest is shore needful to Jack after the way I disturbs his slumbers lately with my rediclous, rannikaboo idees on the subjects of holdups an' Apaches." So Jack was allowed to remain huddled up on the after-thwart in the uncomfortable position in which he had fallen asleep. Broncho served out the rations, and whilst they munched their hard-tack Jack stirred and opened his eyes.