“Yes,” replied Mr Meldrum, who was still busy at work on the details. “I think it will do till we can rig up something better.”
“Wa-ll, all you’ve got to do neow, I guess,” said the other, “is to stretch a rope across the hull consarn, and fix up a blanket or two to screen off the femmels from the menfolk; and the thing’s done slick and handsome.”
“Right!” responded Mr Meldrum, taking his advice and dividing the tent across into two portions, one of which was reserved for the ladies; when, the spare bedding and blankets having been brought up from the raft, the improvised apartments were made to look as comfortable as circumstances permitted. Really, the interior, on being lighted up by the ship’s lanterns, which had not been forgotten, appeared quite cosy, especially when Snowball’s fire, which was now burning up briskly from the chips shovelled on to it, could be seen sparkling and leaping up in spurts of flame through the open flap that had been left to serve for a doorway.
“And now, I kalkerlate, it’s time for grub,” said the American when the tent was finished and the ladies’ comfort provided for—Captain Dinks, still in his cot, being ensconced in a warm corner—“I hope that blessed darkey has got something good, for I feel powerful holler, I dew!”
He need not, however, have been in any doubt as to Snowball’s capacity. That worthy allowed nothing to interfere with the exercise of his culinary skill; so, when the first mate by Mr Meldrum’s directions had “piped down” all hands, he had ready a repast which appeared to the hungry castaways more like a splendid banquet than an improvised meal, and one as well cooked as if Snowball had all the facilities of the galley on shipboard to prepare it. His chief dish was a well-seasoned “Irish stew,” compounded of salt beef and preserved vegetables, which seemed on that cold evening a perfect chef-d’oeuvre, and would, as Mr Lathrope “guessed” after a third helping, have “made a man leave his grandmother for his wife’s mother’s aunt, any day!”
Soon after the meal was finished, night came on, when the snow began to fall heavily and the wind to blow piercingly from the north’ard and westward, just as it had done the evening before when the poor Nancy Bell was struggling round Cape Saint Louis and rushing on to her doom; but the castaways happily were now sheltered from the inclemencies of the weather, and as they one and all nestled into their blankets as soon as bedtime came;—man and woman, Jack tar and landsman alike!—thanked God fervently that they were now no longer on board ship.
Towards morning, a slight alarm was created by some of the melted snow finding its way down upon the sleepers through the sail that served for the roofing of their tent; but this was soon remedied by lashing over it the old tarpaulin from off the cabin skylight, which, it may be recollected, was only thought of at the last moment, although such a useful article. The leak in the roof stopped, all turned to sleep again with the greater zest, enjoying such a night’s rest as they had not had for the last week at sea—not a soul indeed waking up till long after daybreak, all were so dead tired out with the fatigue and anxiety they had undergone.