"Do you think you can?" asked Rogers, who was thinking too intently to have noticed this byplay. "The boats are of such different sizes."
"'Twon't be a fust-class affair, your honour," replied Wills. "Not az if we had her blessed Majesty's resources to hand; but Osborn here, he du knaw what I mean so well az any, and I daresay there's others too."
"Ay!" cried two or three.
"'Twould give more elbow-room d'ye zee, zur."
"It would," said the captain; "but you could not do it unless the boats were nearer of a size, I am convinced."
"Maybe not, sir," said Mr. Mellish, "but there seem to be a lot of casks among the wreckage. If we could haul in half a dozen oil hogsheads, and put them three of a side, we might contrive what would relieve both boats considerably. Then we might leave the big boat to keep that company, and push ahead with the gig to fetch help."
"Right you be, zur," said Wills.
There was a coil of rope in the large boat, they made a running noose in it, and endeavoured to fling it over some of the coveted casks; but the difficulty was enormous, partly from want of room in which to work, and partly from the danger that floating wreckage might swamp their boat, and so destroy their only chance of life.
Some spars and staves were collected, suitable to the purpose, but the sea was much agitated from the recent cyclone, and the difficulty of approaching the hogsheads was apparently insurmountable. The things might have been alive and spiteful, so persistently did they elude every wile.
Just when the men, utterly disheartened, were inclined to abandon the effort as hopeless, the noose caught, apparently more by haphazard than by skill, and a hogshead of oil was drawn alongside.