Heaven and earth, what an object met our eyes!
It was a full--grown man, but so wasted, that one of the boys lifted him by
his belt with one hand. His knees were drawn up to his chin, his hands
were like the talons of a bird, while the falling in of his
chocolate--coloured and withered features gave an unearthly relief to his
forehead, over which the horny and transparent skin was braced so tightly
that it seemed ready to crack. But in the midst of this desolation, his
deep--set coal--black eyes sparkled like two diamonds with the fever of his
sufferings; there was a fearful fascination in their flashing brightness,
contrasted with the deathlike aspect of the face, and rigidity of the
frame. When sensible of our presence he tried to speak, but uld only utter
a low moaning sound. At length--"Agua, agua"--we had not a drop of water
in the boat. "El muchacho esta moriendo de sed--Agua."
We got on board, and the surgeon gave the poor fellow some weak tepid grog.
It acted like magic. He gradually uncoiled himself, his voice, from being
weak and husky, became comparative strong and clear. "El hijo--Agua para
mi Pedrillo--No le hace pari mi--oh la noche pasado, la noche pasado!" He
was told to compose himself, and that his boy would be taken care of.
"Dexa me verlo entonces, oh Dios, dexa me verlo"----and he crawled,
grovelling on his chest, like a crushed worm, across the deck, until he got
his head over the port sill, and looked down into the boat.
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