Part 16 (1/2)

Again and again I shrieked out my companion's name at the top of my voice, springing forward, but had only got a little farther than before when I had to return.

The wind continued to get up. The masts would go, I saw, if sail were not shortened. I let go the main-topsail, and throat and peak-halliards. The sails flapped loudly in the wind, but as the brig now kept more steadily before it, I thought that I should be able to reach the forecastle, though I had very little hope of finding Jim.

I was still shouting his name, when what was my joy to hear him cry out, ”Hillo! What's the matter?” and I saw his head rise from just before the windla.s.s. I never in my life felt more inclined to abuse him for the fright he had given me, thankful as I was that no harm had happened to him. I did not even tell him how much I had been alarmed, but merely cried out, ”Come, be smart, Jim, we must stow the canvas.” We were beginning to do so, when the wind fell, and instead we again hoisted the fore-topsail. Jim owned that while he fancied he was looking out his legs gave way and that he had sunk down on the deck.

”Take care that the same doesn't happen when you are steering, or worse consequences may follow,” I remarked.

He now let me take my nap, and when I awoke he said that we had had a famous run; but towards noon the wind dropped, and it became towards evening a stark calm. This lasted all night and far into the next day.

”Peter, do you know if there's a prayer-book aboard?” asked Jim.

The question surprised me. I was nearly certain that there was not.

”Well then, you can say some prayers without one,” he continued. ”For, Peter, there's no use talking longer about it; we must bury the skipper.”

Reluctantly I agreed. Jim got a piece of canvas, a sail-maker's needle, and some twine, with a pig of iron ballast which had been used in one of the boats. As there was no sign of a breeze, with these he went below, and for the first time since his death opened the captain's state-room.

We brought the corpse into the main cabin, and placing it on the canvas, without loss of time Jim began sewing it up. The old man's kind face had scarcely changed. We took one respectful last look at it, and then Jim, drawing the canvas over it, shut it out from sight.

We had now to get the body on deck, but without a tackle this we could not have done. At last we managed to haul it up the companion-ladder.

When Jim went below for more canvas and twine to fasten on the pig of iron to the feet, we had been longer about our task than we had supposed. Looking astern, I saw that the sky was darkened by heavy ma.s.ses of clouds, while a line of foam came hissing over the surface of the deep towards us.

”Quick! Quick! Jim,” I shouted; ”shorten sail, or the masts will be over the side!”

I ran as I spoke to the halliards; he followed; we had to be smart about it, and even thus the gale was on us before we could get the canvas stowed. That was not to be done in a hurry. First one sail got loose, then another, and we had to hurry to secure them. The sea rose with unusual suddenness, and the brig was soon tossing about in a way which made us fear that another leak would be sprung, or the old ones break out. We managed at length to set the fore-topsail, closely reefed, and I going to the helm, we ran before the gale.

If Jim was before anxious about our being near the land, he was more so now. His eyes were nearly always turned ahead, but I began to think more about the leaks. I asked him what he thought.

”We'll try the well,” he answered.

No sooner had he examined the rod than he exclaimed--

”We must turn to at the pumps, Peter, if we don't want to go to the bottom.”

We no longer thought of burying the captain, or doing anything but keeping the brig afloat. The night began; Jim worked away as hard as his failing strength would allow. I shouted to him to let me take a spell.

”No, no; you keep at the helm, Peter,” he answered; ”I'll work till I drop.”

He only stopped now and then to take a look-out ahead.

The gale seemed to be increasing; the brig pitched and rolled more and more. Suddenly there came a loud clap. The foresail had given way.

Jim ran forward, and lowered it on deck.

As I could no longer be of use at the helm, I ran to his help, and we tried to set it again, but all our efforts were in vain. Every moment, too, the seas now raging round the vessel threatened to break on board.

”Peter, the water is coming in as fast as we get it out, and if we don't keep pumping it will gain upon us,” said Jim.

For fear of being carried away, we made ourselves fast to some stanchions near the pumps, so that we could reach the brakes, and worked away till we were both ready to drop. Now and then we had to stop to draw breath and regain our strength. The hard battered brig pitched and rolled and tumbled, the seas dancing up wildly on every side of her.

Again we had stopped, when Jim exclaimed, ”Hark! I hear the breakers.”