But of food we have next to nothing.

The cases containing the dried meat, and the fish that we had preserved, have both been washed away, and all that now remains to us is about sixty pounds of biscuit.

Sixty pounds of biscuit between sixteen persons! Eight days, with half a pound a day apiece, will consume it all.
The day has passed away in silence.

A general depression has fallen upon all: the spectre of famine has appeared amongst us, and each has remained wrapped in his own gloomy meditations, though each has doubtless but one idea dominant in his mind.
Once, as I passed near the group of sailors lying on the fore part of the raft, I heard Flaypole say with a sneer,-- "Those who are going to die had better make haste about it." "Yes," said Owen, "leave their share of food to others." At the regular hour each person received his half-pound of biscuit.
Some, I noticed, swallowed it ravenously, others reserved it for another time.

Falsten divided his ration into several portions, corresponding, I believe, to the number of meals to which he was ordinarily accustomed.
What prudence he shows! If any one survives this misery, I think it will be he..