He was half dead with cold and exhaustion, poor fellow, but in a few minutes he began to recover, and before we reached the ship he could speak. His first words were to thank God for his deliverance. Then he added—
“And, thanks to the man that flung that light overboard. I should have gone down but for that. It showed me where the hen-coop was.”
I cannot describe the feeling of joy that filled my heart when he said this.
“Ay, who wos it that throw’d that fire overboard?” inquired one of the men.
“Don’t know,” replied another, “I think it wos the cap’n.”
“You’ll find that out when we get aboard,” cried the mate; “pull away, lads.”
In five minutes Fred Borders was passed up the side and taken down below. In two minutes more we had him stripped naked, rubbed dry, wrapped in hot blankets, and set down on one of the lockers, with a hot brick at his feet.