“Lie up close to me and reach in together. Head in too.”
A low groan now came from the hold, and though I could not see, of course I knew what was going on, and could estimate the difficulties of the position. Dumlow’s two messmates, in their efforts to help him, were making his position more perilous, for they were forcing their heads and shoulders into the opening, and stopping off what little air could get to him.
There was another groan.
“Don’t make a row, lad, we’re doing our best,” came in a distant voice which sounded as far away as poor Dumlow’s groans. “Got him, matey?”
“Ay, ay.”
“Both together. Yo ho, ahoy!”
This was all quite in a smothered tone, and accompanied by jerking and dragging sounds, which as they were kept up were accompanied and followed by feeble groans.
“Quick, quick!” I cried. “Have him out, or they’ll hear on deck.”
No one answered, and I moved forward and tried to help by clasping Bob round the waist.
“Ahoy! Ahoy! Haul away—hoy!”