"Look here," explained Andy, "I'll take this end of the line on deck, wind it on to the tackle, and heave taut. Then we'll unship this ladder and you can unfasten the front of the stall."
"Then what happens to me?" objected Ellerton.
"Oh, you can make a bolt to the fore end of the hold and stay there till Terence and I haul the brute on deck. Then we'll re-ship the ladder and you can get out."
Ellerton had his doubts, but he followed his companion's counsel. Directly there was a strain on the lasso, he threw open the door of the stall and rushed for the shelter of the sheep-pen.
Bellowing lustily, and contesting every inch of the way, the animal was slowly dragged towards the hatch, to the accompaniment of a lusty "Heave-ho!" from the two youths on deck.
Terence watched the operation with considerable misgiving, expecting every moment to see the rope part and to find himself confronted by the infuriated brute.
Slowly the animal was forced across the floor of the hold, then its ponderous carcase rose, kicking and plunging, in the air.
As the animal appeared above the coaming, the light of day revealed—not a mild ox, but an unusually sturdy specimen of an Andalusian bull!
"Belay there, and lower away the after guy!" shouted Andy, "or he'll drop down the hatch again when we let go."
Terence hastened to obey; but, allowing the sheers to incline too far forward, the infuriated animal's legs touched the deck.