They had not sailed a third part of the distance, when they were surprised with calms, which so much hindered their progress that, during the space of three weeks, they had not advanced twenty-five leagues. In this period their provisions underwent daily diminution. In a short time their stock had sunk so low that it was necessary to limit the allowance to each man. We may conceive their destitution from this allowance. "Twelve grains of mill by the day, which may be in value as much as twelve peason!" But even this poor quantity was not long continued. It was "a felicity," in the language of the chronicle, which was of brief duration. Soon the "mill" failed them entirely--all at once--and they "had nothing for their more assured refuge, but their shoes and leather jerkins, which they did eate." But their misfortune was not confined to their food. Their supplies of fresh water failed them also. Never had adventurers set forth upon the seas with such wretched provision. Their beverage finally became the water of the ocean--the thirst-provoking brine. Such beverage as this increased their miseries--atrophy and madness followed--and death stretched himself out among them on every side. Nor were they suffered to escape from the most painful toils while thus contending against thirst and famine. Their wretched vessel sprang a-leak. The water grew upon them. Day and night were they kept busy in casting it forth, without cessation or repose. Each day added to their griefs and dangers. Their shoes and jerkins they had already devoured in their desperation, and where to look for other material to supply the materiel of distension, puzzled their thoughts. While thus distressed by their anxieties, with their comrades dying about them, a new danger assailed them, as if fortune was resolved to crush them at a blow, and thus conclude their miseries. The winds rose, the seas were lashed into fury by the storm. Their vessel, no longer buoyant, "in the turning of a hand" shipped a fearful sea, and was nearly swamped--"filled halfe full of water, and bruised in upon the one side." This was the last drop in the cup of misfortune which finally makes it overflow. Then it was that the hearts of our Frenchmen sunk utterly within them. They no longer cared to contend for life. They gave themselves up to despair. "Being now more out of hope than ever to escape out of this extreme peril, they cared not for casting out of the water which now was almost ready to drown them; and as men resolved to die, everie one fell downe backwarde, and gave themselves over, altogether unto the will of the waves."