{19}
Already On The Seventh Day We Descried The Coast Of Iceland.
Our
passage had been unprecedentedly quick; the sailors declared that a
favourable gale was to be preferred even to steam, and that on our
present voyage we should certainly have left every steamer in our
wake.
But I, wretched being that I was, would gladly have dispensed
with the services both of gale and steam for the sake of a few
hours' rest. My illness increased so much, that on the seventh day
I thought I must succumb. My limbs were bathed in a cold
perspiration; I was as weak as an infant, and my mouth felt parched
and dry. I saw that I must now either make a great effort or give
up entirely; so I roused myself, and with the assistance of the
cabin-boy gained a seat, and promised to take any and every remedy
which should be recommended. They gave me hot-water gruel with wine
and sugar; but it was not enough to be obliged to force this down, I
was further compelled to swallow small pieces of raw bacon highly
peppered, and even a mouthful of rum. I need not say what strong
determination was required to make me submit to such a regimen. I
had, however, but one choice, either to conquer my repugnance or
give myself up a victim to sea-sickness; so with all patience and
resignation I received the proffered gifts, and found, after a trial
of many hours, that I could manage to retain a small dose.
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