“That’s right, have a rousing shout if it will do you good, my lad,” said the mate, whose fingers were busy. “But that’s right, don’t shrink,” he continued as he went on with his task, which was that of plugging the two mouths of the wound with lint—
“Hallo! What is it?”
A sailor’s head had appeared inside the cabin door.
“Mr Drew says, sir, as the savages are coming back, and would you like to come on deck?”
“Yes, of course,” said the mate hastily. “Go and tell him I’m coming.”
“Yes, sir.”
The man disappeared, and the mate turned to Smith.
“Here,” he said, “carefully and tightly bind up Mr Lane’s arm, so that the plugs cannot come out.”
“Me, sir? Don’t you want me to come and fight?”
“I want you to obey orders,” said the mate, sharply. “There, you will not hurt, Mr Lane; and as for you, Mr Panton, don’t let imagination get the better of you, sir. I’ll come down again as soon as I can.”