I can't pray to have the things I want, he said slowly, and I won't pray not to have them, not if I'm damned for it. Then all our good times are over. Saturday, August fifteenth. The sea unbroken all round, no land in sight, the horizon seems extremely distant. All my danger and sufferings were needed to strike a spark of human feeling out of him, but now that I am well, his nature has resumed its sway. You seem anxious, my uncle, I said, seeing him continually with his glass to his eye. Anxious. One might be, with less reason than now. I am not complaining that the rate is slow, but that the sea is so wide. We are losing time, and the fact is, I have not come all this way to take a little sail upon a pond on a raft. He called this sea a pond and our long voyage taking a little sail. Therefore, don't talk to me about views and prospects. I take this as my answer, and I leave the professor to bite his lips with impatience. Sunday, August sixteenth. Nothing new, weather unchanged, the wind freshens. But there seemed no reason of fear. The shadow of the raft was clearly outlined upon the surface of the waves. Truly this sea is of infinite width. It must be as wide as the Mediterranean or the Atlantic, and why not? These thoughts agitated me all day, and my imagination scarcely calmed down after several hours sleep. I shudder as I recall these monsters to my remembrance. I saw at the Hamburg museum the skeleton of one of these creatures, thirty feet in length.