eleven o’clock P.M.
And creeping on the ground they struggled to reach each other ; but it seemed as if a powerful hand rivetted them to the spot on which they had fallen , and it was only after many futile efforts that they managed to reach each other . Having done so , they tied their belts together to prevent another separation , and crept along the sand to a little rising ground crowned by a small clump of pines . Once there they were a little more protected , and they proceeded to dig themselves a hole , in which they crouched in a state of absolute exhaustion and prostration . It was half-past eleven o'clock P.M. For some minutes neither spoke . With eyes half closed they lay in a kind of torpor , whilst the trees above them bent beneath the wind , and their branches rattled like the bones of a skeleton . But yet again they roused themselves from this fatal lethargy , and a few mouthfuls of rum from the Sergeant 's flask revived them . `` Let us hope these trees will hold , '' at last observed Hobson .