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“Aye,” said Bligh, nodding gravely. “But God expected us to play our part. We should not have had his help, otherwise.”

“What distance have we come, in all, sir?” I asked.

“I have this morning reckoned it up,” said Bligh. “I think I am not far out in saying that we have sailed, from Tofoa to the passage within the reefs of New Holland, a distance of two thousand, three hundred and ninety miles.”

“God be thanked that we have so much of the voyage behind us,” said Nelson, fervently. “This leaves us with one thousand miles ahead, does it not?”

“More than that,” Bligh replied. “As nearly as I can recollect, we have between one hundred and fifty and two hundred miles to coast New Holland before we reach Endeavour Straits; but once again in the open sea, we shall have no more than three hundred leagues between us and Timor.”

Nelson turned to me. “Ledward, how long can a man go, in the ordinary course of nature, without passing stool?”

“Ten days is a long period under more normal circumstances,” I replied, “but our situation is anything but a usual one. We have had so little food that our bodies seem to have absorbed the whole of it.”