He was successful beyond his most sanguine expectations, half-a-dozen fine but grotesque-looking fish speedily rewarding his efforts. The idea of devouring them raw was rather repulsive, but as there was no possible means of cooking them, they had either to do that or go without breakfast; so, selecting the most tempting-looking, they cut it up, and, after making a wry face over the first mouthful or two, managed to satisfactorily dispose of it. That is to say, George and Tom did; but poor Walford, on being offered a share, shook his head, murmured that he was not hungry, and closed his eyes again in patient suffering. The balance of the catch was carefully cleaned and strung up on the yard, in the hope that it would dry in the sun. Their great want now was _water_. Their hunger being satisfied, thirst began to assert itself, and George would have landed upon the Isle of Pines and endeavoured to find fresh water, but for the fact that he caught sight of several people on the shore, who appeared to be watching the boat with pertinacious curiosity. In this strait he tried the plan of dipping his shirt into the sea, and putting it on again dripping wet; and, to his great delight, he found that this proceeding had a very sensible effect in mitigating thirst. Upon this, Tom tried the same plan, with equally beneficial results, and then they well soused poor Walford with sea-water, hoping that it would, to some extent, revive and refresh him. By mid-day the Isle of Pines was broad on their starboard quarter, the last _Cay_ on the "Jardines" shoal had been passed, and they were fairly at sea and in deep water. They might now reasonably look out for a frigate at any moment; but, as it would not do to depend upon this source of rescue alone, George continued to stand boldly to the southward and eastward, hoping that by so doing he would not only improve his prospects of falling in with a British frigate, but that he would also--failing the frigate--meet with a friendly merchantman. By sunset they were fairly out of sight of land, but, so far, nothing in the shape of a sail had greeted their longing eyes. Once or twice a white speck on the horizon had temporarily raised their hopes, but it had vanished the next moment, being probably nothing more than the sunlight flashing upon a sea-bird's wing.