In calm weather the job would be a comparatively easy one, but the heaving and pitching of the ship and the sleigh made it impossible to obtain a gentle and gradually increasing strain on the wire hawser.
Guy looked at Leslie, and Leslie looked at Guy. They realised the terrible risk that was entailed, and that it was "up to them," as active members of the British party on board the sleigh, to carry out Captain Stormleigh's instructions.
"Come on," said Leslie at length, and without further hesitation he clambered up through the hatchway and began to crawl cautiously towards the after ring-bolt.
"Hold on! Avast there!" shouted Captain Stormleigh. "Isn't there any man on board there?"
"No, sir," shouted Leslie in reply, for it was only by raising his voice to its utmost capacity that he could make himself understood in the terrific wind.
"Then get below at once," roared the skipper.
Only too glad to escape the task which was practically certain to be beyond their powers, the lads obeyed; but they left the hatch uncovered in order to follow the impending operations.
Presently a man, whom the lads recognised as Travers, the second mate, ascended the steel rope to the block at the end of the derrick. Then, transferring the weight to the outboard part of the rope, he descended till his feet came in contact with the large ring-bolt to which the two spans were attached.
Holding one of the hooks in his fur-gloved hands, Travers awaited his opportunity and deftly engaged the hook in the ring-bolt at the bow of the sleigh.
The derrick was slung aft so that the second mate could perform a similar operation there. This part of the business was a most difficult one. At one moment the engaged span was quite slack, at the next, as the Bird of Freedom sank in the trough of the waves, it was as taut as an iron bar, while the sudden strain wellnigh jerked the plucky young officer from his precarious perch. In addition, he had to fight the telling effects of the numbing cold.