As I lay with my face turned toward the sea, listening in despair to the soft, monotonous lip-lipping of the waves, varied at regular intervals by the long, foaming crash of the swell as it broke and swept up the sands, there came presently in the eastern sky a faint silvery glow, and the full moon stole up from out the glistening water until it shone full and broad, making a burnished path down to the shore at my feet. N o doubt, this saved my life. In an hour it was almost as light as day. I untied my shoes, which I had fastened to the chest while swimming, put them on to guard my feet, and started in search of drinking-water. Fortunately it was close at hand. A little brook ﬂowed down to the sea not more than forty rods to the north of my landing-place. Had I been in condition to remember anything, I should have known this fact, because while ﬂoating in the sea I noted this stream by the low foliage that marked its course near the beach, and longed for a draught of the water which I knew must be there. Stumbling along the sands, I reached the stream, and lying down, buried my face in the clear, sweet water, and drank until I could drink no more. This was possibly an imprudent thing to do. Indeed it was followed by dreadful nausea. But this did not hinder me from taking another draught, almost as deep as the first.