And thus it was with this our hapless crew; For on the third day there came on a calm, And though at first their strength it might renew, And lying on their weariness like balm, Lulled them like turtles sleeping on the blue Of Ocean, when they woke they felt a qualm, And fell all ravenously on their provision, Instead of hoarding it with due precision. LXIX. The consequence was easily foreseen-- They ate up all they had, and drank their wine, In spite of all remonstrances, and then On what, in fact, next day were they to dine? They hoped the wind would rise, these foolish men! And carry them to shore; these hopes were fine, But as they had but one oar, and that brittle, It would have been more wise to save their victual. LXX. The fourth day came, but not a breath of air, And Ocean slumbered like an unweaned child: The fifth day, and their boat lay floating there, The sea and sky were blue, and clear, and mild-- With their one oar (I wish they had had a pair) What could they do? and Hunger's rage grew wild: So Juan's spaniel, spite of his entreating, Was killed, and portioned out for present eating.[123] LXXI. On the sixth day they fed upon his hide, And Juan, who had still refused, because The creature was his father's dog that died, Now feeling all the vulture in his jaws, With some remorse received (though first denied) As a great favour one of the fore-paws,[124] Which he divided with Pedrillo, who Devoured it, longing for the other too. LXXII. The seventh day, and no wind--the burning sun Blistered and scorched, and, stagnant on the sea, They lay like carcasses; and hope was none, Save in the breeze that came not: savagely They glared upon each other--all was done, Water, and wine, and food,--and you might see The longings of the cannibal arise (Although they spoke not) in their wolfish eyes. LXXIII. At length one whispered his companion, who Whispered another, and thus it went round, And then into a hoarser murmur grew, An ominous, and wild, and desperate sound; And when his comrade's thought each sufferer knew, 'T was but his own, suppressed till now, he found: And out they spoke of lots for flesh and blood, And who should die to be his fellow's food. LXXIV. But ere they came to this, they that day shared Some leathern caps, and what remained of shoes; And then they looked around them, and despaired, And none to be the sacrifice would choose; At length the lots were torn up,[125] and prepared, But of materials that must shock the Muse-- Having no paper, for the want of better, They took by force from Juan Julia's letter.