“The skipper was next.
“‘You goin’, too!’ says Jowl.
“‘You’ll have t’ eat it raw, lads,’ says the skipper, with a white little grin at hisself. ‘An’ don’t rouse me,’ says he, ‘for I’m as good as dead already.’
“The second hand come down an’ ’lowed we’d better get the pumps goin’.
“‘She’s sprung a leak somewheres aft,’ says he.
Jowl an’ me an’ the second hand went on deck t’ keep her afloat. The second hand ’lowed she’d founder, anyhow, if she was give time, but he’d like t’ see what would come o’ pumpin’, just for devilment. So we lashed ourselves handy an’ pumped away—me an’ the second hand on one side an’ Jowl on the other. The Wings o’ the Mornin’ wobbled an’ dived an’ shook herself like a wet dog; all she wanted was a little more water in her hold an’ then she’d make an end of it, whenever she happened t’ take the notion.
“‘I’m give out,’ says the second hand, afore night.
“‘Them men in the forecastle isn’t treatin’ us right,’ says Jowl. ‘They ought t’ lend a hand.’
“The second hand bawled down t’ the crew; but nar a man would come on deck.
“‘Jowl,’ says he, ‘you have a try.’