Suddenly Harry cried out, and fell over something, which proved to be the wreck of the fallen mast.
“Are you hurt, Harry?” queried Roger.
“No, lad,” came the response, “and I think I have found the poor fellow whose scream we heard just now; he seems to have been crushed by the mast as it fell. If you will stoop down here, you will be able to feel his body. Had we but a lever of some kind we might perhaps be able to raise the mast sufficiently to drag him from underneath it.”
Roger climbed over the mast and, feeling for Harry, knelt down beside him, where he found the body that Harry had fallen upon when he tripped over the mast.
By touch he found that the poor seaman, whoever he was, was pinned down immovably to the deck, the mast lying right across the middle of his body.
Roger put his mouth to the ear of the man, and shouted: “Are you badly hurt; and can you move with assistance?”
He caught the reply: “Is that you, Master Trevose? I am pinned down by this spar, and I believe my leg is broken; but if you could manage to get the mast raised by ever so little, I believe I could scramble out from under it.”
“Can we find a lever anywhere?” shouted Roger.
“There are a couple of handspikes in the rack close to you; if you can find these, they will do,” replied the wounded seaman.
Roger worked his way to the rack indicated by the man, and fortunately found the handspikes at once. Taking them both, he quickly scrambled back again and handed one to Harry, retaining the other himself.