Never shall I forget the scene.

We were no longer human, the impulses and instincts of brute beasts seemed to actuate our every movement.
For a moment the pangs of hunger were somewhat allayed; but some of us revolted against the loathsome food, and were seized either with violent nausea or absolute sickness.

I must be pardoned for giving these distressing details, but how otherwise can I depict the misery, moral and physical, which we are enduring?
And with it all, I dare not venture to hope that we have reached the climax of our sufferings.
The conduct of Hobart during the scene that I have just described has only served to confirm my previous suspicions of him.

He took no part in the almost fiendish energy with which we gnawed at our scraps of leather, and although by his conduct and perpetual groanings, he might be considered to be dying of inanition, yet to me he has the appearance of being singularly exempt from the tortures which we are all enduring.
But whether the hypocrite is being sustained, by some secret store of food, I have been unable to discover.
Whenever the breeze drops the heat is overpowering; but although our allowance of water is very meagre, at present the pangs of hunger far exceed the pain of thirst.

It has often been remarked that extreme thirst is far less endurable than extreme hunger.