I suppose it was an uneasy movement made by Bob Chowne that awoke me,
and as I started away, and looked round at the darkness, and felt the
motion of the boat, I trembled, and could not for the time make out
where I was, or what all this peculiar sensation of cramped stiffness
meant.
The stars were shining, and twinkling reflections flashed from the
water; the boat rocked to and fro, and the cold was horrible. This
feeling of bitter cold or else the stupefied sensation brought on by
exhaustion seemed to keep me from thinking, and it was a long time
before I quite realised the truth.
Then I wanted to wake up Bigley and Bob Chowne, to get them to start
rowing again, for the sea had gone down, there was hardly a breath of
wind; and, though I could see nothing, I felt that the land could not be
very far away.
I raised my hand to shake Bigley; but I did not, for the inclination was
stronger to creep close up to him, and try to warm myself; and this I
did, clinging closely to him and Bob Chowne; and then, as I crouched
shivering and cramped in the bottom of the boat, I felt as if all the
cold and darkness had suddenly sunk away and I was in oblivion.
I don't know how long I slept, but I remember starting up again and
wondering why the boat was moving so curiously, and then I found that I
was being shaken, and a hoarse voice said:
"Sep! Sep! Wake up."
"What's matter?" I said drowsily.
"It's dark and cold, and we'd better begin to row again. The sea has
gone down."
"Has it?" I said sleepily. "Never mind. It don't matter."
"Yes, it does. Wake up. I want to talk to you."
"No, no. Let me go--sleep," I said.
"I sha'n't. Wake up. Let you and me row for a bit, and then we'll make
Bob. Come along."
Bigley half pushed me over the thwart to that in front, and placed the
oar in my hands; then, taking the other, he thrust it in the rowlocks,
and asked me if I was ready.
"Ready? No," I said angrily. "I want to lie down and sleep. I'm so
cold. Let me lie down."
"But you can't," he said. "Now, then, let's row. It will warm you."
"But where are we to row?" I said dolefully, and with a curious sense
of not caring what happened now.
"I'll show you. Look!" he cried, "you can see the north star."
"Bother the north star!" I grumbled. "I don't want to see the north
star."
"But if we keep staring straight up at that as we go, we are sure to
reach our shore--somewhere."