My head was yet bowed over the gunwale when the heavy footsteps of the Puritan sounded close at hand. I could not fail to remark a softness in his deep voice as he spoke, resting one hand upon my shoulder.
"Thou knowest not, friend Benteen, how it gladdens my old heart to find thee before the throne of grace. I fear thou art not greatly accustomed to look up unto God in time of trouble, yet doing so can never weaken thy arm for the moment of trial. Acknowledge the Lord of Hosts, nor dream thou wilt ever prove less of a man because thy heart responds to His many mercies."
"You speak truly," I returned soberly, feeling a new respect for him in that hour. "There is no better way in which to start the day; and, unless my eyes deceive me, this bids fair to prove a day of sore trial. Have you looked to the damage done the boat?"
"Nay," he returned earnestly, bending low to examine the rent. "I slept like a man in drink, and even now am scarcely well awakened. 'T is, indeed, a serious break, friend; one, I fear, which will prove beyond our remedying."
"Have you skill with tools?"
"It is one of my gifts; yet of what use in the wilderness where tools are not to be found? However, I will see what may be done, after we break our fast—there is little accomplished working on an empty stomach."
It was a morning of sorrowful labor; from the beginning a perfectly hopeless one. The planking had been so badly crushed that a portion was actually ground into powder, leaving a great gaping hole. To patch this we possessed no tool to shape the wood properly, or, indeed, any wood to shape, except the seats of the oarsmen. Nor did we possess nails. More than one expedient was resorted to with bits of canvas, wooden pegs, or whatsoever else we could lay hands upon, but our efforts resulted each time in sickening failure. At last, long before the sun had attained the zenith, the old preacher looked up, disappointment written on every line of his rough face, to say grimly:
"We waste toil, friends; the boat floats no more for all our labors. Nor do I deem it the will of the Lord we longer continue to wear ourselves out in vain effort to undo His work."
He wiped the beads of perspiration from his low forehead, pushing his hand through his matted hair.
"Were it not for the woman," he added more cheerfully, "the accident would not be so bad either. I am cramped by long boat service, and would welcome a stiff tramp to loosen out the joints of my legs."