Our attempts served only to irritate the rabid animal, so that he was now perfectly frantic, leaping, howling, and rushing about in a terrible manner.
Just as we had begun to despair of effecting anything in this way we heard a shout from forward. It was little Roy Drew.
“Hello, there!” he said; “I’m on the bowsprit. I’ve just come down the forestay. I see how he can be got overboard.”
As we stood in the shrouds, the ship’s fore and main courses, which were set, prevented us from seeing the boy, but we could easily judge of his position and intention also.
“Look out for yourself, Roy!” was the cry from more than one voice, as all realized the fearful risk that he ran.
But the little fellow had his plan. He made a great stamping and shouting, and the dog, which happened just then to be forward, leaped upon the forecastle.
We, who were in the rigging, hurried down to the deck, no longer thinking of any danger to ourselves, and then the whole scene was before us.
Roy had run out along the bowsprit and jib-boom, and the dog was trying to follow him.
The upper side of the bowsprit being flat, the mad animal could easily traverse it, but we did not believe that he would be able to walk on the jib-boom. To our great alarm, however, we saw him dash out upon it without falling.
“Roy! Roy!” we called, “take care of yourself—quick! quick! Don’t let him get hold of you!”