“Then we must rig the pumps and try to clear her!” I exclaimed. “It will be a hard job, but it may be done, and we must not think of letting the old craft sink under our feet.”
We set to work, and pumped and pumped away, the water coming up in a clear stream, till our backs and arms ached, and we felt every moment ready to drop, but we cheered each other on, resolved not to give in as long as we could stand on our legs.
Chapter Ten.
Alone on the ocean.
“Are we gaining on the leaks, think you, Jim?” I at length gasped out, for I felt that if our efforts were producing some effect we should be encouraged to continue them, but that if not it would be wise before we were thoroughly exhausted to try and build a raft on which we might have a chance of saving our lives.
My companion made no reply, but giving a look of doubt, still pumped on, the perspiration streaming down his face and neck showing the desperate exertions he was making. I was much in the same condition, though, like Jim, I had on only my shirt and trousers. I was the first to give in, and, utterly unable to move my arms, I sank down on the deck. Jim, still not uttering a word, doggedly worked on, bringing up a stream of water which flowed out through the scuppers.
It seemed wonderful that he could go on, but after some time he also stopped, and staggered to where he had left the rod.
“I’ll try,” he said.