Antonio, also fastened by a rope to the little capstan, stood by to hack the mast.
It was a pretty bit of seamanship, but would it succeed?
CHAPTER VIII
AT THE MERCY OF THE WAVES
“All ready, Pandoo?”
“All ready, sah,” shouted Pandoo, aloft on the bulwark, his long dark-brown ringlets streaming out before the wind, and half hiding his handsome face.
“Heave ho, my lad. Cheerily ho!”
Bang, bang. Both axes fell almost at the same moment.
Antonio’s had buried itself in the sturdy mast; Pandoo’s had cut a shroud almost in two.
It was dangerous work, for Pandoo especially. But for the rope he had made fast in a bight around his body, one end firmly belayed to a pin below, he would undoubtedly have fallen into the sea.
Hack, hack; chop, chop.