Explore "The Little Savage" by Frederick Marryat on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Five days and nights had we been drifting at the mercy of the winds and waves; all our small stock of food had been devoured -- though we had hoarded every crumb, as the miser hoards his gold. Even the rain water, as well as the water we had brought with us, we had drained to the last drop.
The weather continually alternated from a dead calm to a light breeze: the wind frequently shifted, but I had no strength left to attend to the sail -- the boat was abandoned to its own guidance, or rather to that of the wind. When becalmed we lay still -- when the breeze sprang up we pursued our course till the sail no longer felt its influence.