“‘Look!’ says I.
“Off near where the sun was settin’ the clouds broke. ’Twas but a slit, but it let loose a flood o’ red light. ’Twas a bloody sky an’ sea—red as shed blood, but full o’ the promise o’ peace which follows storm, as the good God directs.
“‘I ’low,’ says he, ‘the wind will go down with the sun.’
“The vessel was makin’ heavy labor of it. ‘I bets you,’ says I, ‘the Wings o’ the Mornin’ beats un both.’
“‘Time’ll tell,’ says he.
“I give un a hand with the raft. An’ hard work ’twas; never knowed no harder, before nor since, with the seas comin’ overside, an’ the deck pitchin’ like mad, an’ the night droppin’ down. Ecod! but I isn’t able t’ tell you. I forgets what we done in the red light o’ that day. ’Twas labor for giants an’ devils! But we had the raft in the water afore dark, ridin’ in the lee, off the hulk. It didn’t look healthy, an’ was by no means invitin’; but the Wings o’ the Mornin’ was about t’ bow an’ retire, if the signs spoke true, an’ the raft was the only hope in all the brutal world. I took kindly t’ the crazy thing—I ’low I did!
“‘Tumm,’ says Jowl, ‘I ’low you thinks you got some rights in that raft.’
“‘I do,’ says I.
“‘But you isn’t,’ says he. ‘You isn’t, Tumm, because I’m a sight bigger ’n you, an’ could put you off. It isn’t in my mind t’ do it—but I could. I wants company, Tumm, for it looks like a long v’y’ge, an’ I’m ’lowin’ t’ have you.’
“‘What about the crew?’ says I.