After a time I fell into a restless, dreamy doze. I was neither
asleep nor awake. How long I remained in that state of stupor I
could hardly say, but at length a strange sensation half brought
me to myself. Was I dreaming, or was there not really some
unaccustomed odour floating in the air? My nostrils became
distended, and I could scarcely suppress a cry of astonishment;
but some instinct kept me quiet, and I laid myself down again
with the puzzled sensation sometimes experienced when we have
forgotten a word or name. Only a few minutes, however, had
elapsed before another still more savoury puff induced me to take
several long inhalations. Suddenly, the truth seemed to dash
across my mind. "Surely," I muttered to myself "this must be
cooked meat that I can smell."
Again and again I sniffed and became more convinced than ever
that my senses were not deceiving me. But from what part of the
raft could the smell proceed? I rose to my knees, and having
satisfied myself that the odour came from the front, I crept
stealthily as a cat under the sails and between the spars in that
direction. Following the promptings of my scent, rather than my
vision, like a bloodhound in the track of his prey, I searched
everywhere I could, now finding, now losing, the smell according
to my change of position, or the dropping of the wind. At length
I got the true scent; once for all, so that I could go straight
to the object for which I was in search.
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