Then it rained.
I don't rightly know if this was the same day or no: can't fit in the
days an' nights. But it rained heavy. There was a quill-feather lyin'
close by my hand--the rock was strewed wi' feathers an' the birds'
droppin's--an' with it I tried to get at the rain-water that was
caught in the crannies o' the rocks. While I was searchin' about I
came across an egg. It was stinkin', but I ate it. After that, feelin'
a bit stronger, I'd a mind to fix up the oar for a mark, in case any
vessel passed near an' me asleep or too weak to make a signal. I found
a handy chink i' the rock to plant it in, an' a rovin' pain I had in
my stomach while I was fixin' it. That was the egg, I dessay. An' my
head in a maze, too: but I'd sense enough to think now what a fool
I was not to have took Jeff's shirt off'n, to serve me for a flag.
Hows'ever, my own bein' wringin' wet, an' the sun pretty strong just
then, I slipped it off an' hitched it atop o' the oar to dry an' be a
flag at the same time, till I could rig up some kind o' streamer, out
o' the seaweed.
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