When dawn broke we woke and rubbed our eyes. We were mystified and not a
little mortified. Where was France? There was nothing but water, blue as
heaven itself, around us. We were still at sea, and still going strong.
The hours of that day dragged out to an interminable length. No one spoke
of the matter--the question of land in sight was not discussed. Some of the
boys went back to poker. Others decided to be seasick, and subsequently
wished for a storm and the consequent wrecking of the ship, with a watery
death as relief.
Bully beef and biscuits at noon; bully beef and biscuits at our evening
meal, and no sight of land. Night came. The more hopeful of us did the
craning business over the deck rails for a few more hours. The
pessimistic, deciding France had ceased to be, returned to poker. We slept.
We woke. We watched the sun rise--over the sea!
About noon that day after the ration of bully beef had gone its round and
we, in consequence, were feeling pretty blue, there was a group of us
standing around doing nothing. Suddenly Tom King came rushing up in great
excitement. He had had an idea.
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