He noticed that what little breeze there was came from the east, and that fleecy clouds were gathering in that quarter, indicating the approach of a storm. He called the mate’s attention to that, and said he felt uneasy about their condition if there should be a storm.
“I believe, Mr. Wright,” the captain finally suggested, “that we can rig up a sail to help us toward the coast of Italy.”
“We don’t seem to have much to make a sail of, sir.”
“We could use our coats if we had any way to fasten them together.”
“There’s a coil of ratline-stuff, sir, that we fished out of the water, and that I thought was too small to trust in making the raft.”
“That’s just the thing, Mr. Wright. Make holes along the edges of the coats and tie them together with bits of the cord. Then pull out the two longest sticks you can find in the top of the raft. Hoist those sticks a little ways apart, jam the ends down between the timbers, and spread the sail between them.”
All went to work with a will, the boys tying the coats together, and the men getting out the sticks for masts and setting them in position. Soon there was a curious patchwork quilt of a sail raised, but one that offered a large surface to the breeze. Raymond stationed himself at the edge of the raft, and trailing his hand in the water for a log, announced gleefully,—
“We’re making two knots.”