"Don't trouble yourself about that, Paddy," he answered; "the seas are my company, and precious rough company they are too; they'll prevent me nodding." He laughed at his own remark. At last Tom and I did as he advised us; indeed, we couldn't keep our eyes open longer, for we had had no sleep, lashed as we had been to the bulwarks on the previous night. We both of us slept on right through the night. I awoke with a weary heart-sinking feeling. Dawn was already casting a grey light over the still troubled ocean. Clouds hung thickly overhead; the seas seemed to reach them as they rose up on either side. There sat Nettleship, wide awake, his hand on the tiller, his eyes wearing a pained expression, as well they might, looking round watching the waves as they hissed up, threatening to overwhelm us. No one was speaking. Most of the men sat with their arms folded and their heads bent down, still fast asleep. I believe that Nettleship had been the only one awake among us during the night. "The wind has fallen, and the sea has gone down considerably, Paddy," he said, looking at me. "Cheer up, lad; we shall save our lives after all, I believe." Tom, hearing him speak, awoke. "I wish you would let me take the helm, Nettleship," he said. "No, no, Tom! The responsibility is too much to impose on you; I'll let Hunt steer presently." First one man woke up, then another, and another; but they all looked round with lack-lustre eyes and gloomy countenances. After some time, Tom shouted out that there was a break in the clouds to the eastward. Just then a ray of bright light streamed across the ocean, tinging the foam-topped seas with a ruddy hue. "It's the harbinger of better weather," I said. "You're right, sir," observed Hunt. "It will be our own fault if we don't manage to keep the boat afloat." I saw Nettleship for the first time showing signs of sleepiness. He aroused himself for the moment, and called to Hunt to take the helm. The quartermaster stepped aft, and Nettleship, resigning his seat to him, a moment afterwards was fast asleep. The men now cried out that they were very hungry, and Pim and I agreed that it would be better to serve out some food without awaking Nettleship. We gave each man a biscuit and a small piece of ham. The neck of a broken bottle was the only measure we had for serving out the water. The quantity was but just sufficient to moisten our lips, but not to quench our thirst. The men asked for more, but Tom told them that until Nettleship awoke he couldn't give them any. Though the weather was moderating, the wind went down very slowly, and the seas tossed and tumbled with almost as much violence as before. It was noon when Nettleship awoke. He approved of the allowance Tom and I had served out.