“We must try another sail,” said the commander. The sail was prepared, and, like the first, with great difficulty dragged under the ship’s bottom. The seamen employed in the work were drenched to the skin by the heavy seas which frequently broke over the hapless ship; still they persevered, no one flinching from the work. Harry Shafto attracted the notice of the commander by his activity. Willy Dicey imitated him to the best of his power. Although not so strong as a man, by his intelligence and comprehension of what was to be done he was able to direct others, and thus rendered good service.
“I say, Dicey,” exclaimed Peter Patch, who was standing near him, “do you think really the ship will go down? I feel awfully queer. I wish that I’d followed your advice about some things long ago. I should like to say my prayers, but I don’t know how to begin, and there isn’t time for it now.”
“That’s it,” answered Willy. “Had you said them morning and night, and not have been afraid of our messmates laughing at you, you would have known how to say them even while you are hard at work. I don’t think God would be well pleased if we all were to knock off, and go down on our knees to pray and ask Him for help while we were neglecting to help ourselves.”
“I must work now, at all events,” said Peter.
“Of course you must,” answered Willy, “or praying would be mockery; but you can pray out of your heart while you are pulling and hauling, or while you are running along the deck with a message.”
“I daresay you are right, Dicey,” sighed Peter; “but it’s very terrible. I had no thought, when we left England, that we should get into such a scrape as this. For what I see, we may all be drowned, or be driven on those fearful icebergs, and be frozen to death before many days are over.”
“Very true, Peter. I have been thinking the same; but it is our duty to struggle to the end—first to try and save the ship, and then our own lives.”
Matters did not mend as the day advanced. Again and again the carpenter sounded the well, and reported that the water had rather increased than diminished. The after-part of the deck was now scuttled, so that more provisions and stores could be got up and hove overboard. The pumps continued to be worked as energetically as at first, but still the water gained on them, till it reached the orlop-deck.
The fearful condition of the ship could no longer be concealed from the people. Even the most sanguine began to lose heart. Many cast wistful glances at the boats. Notwithstanding this, the commander kept them labouring at the pumps, still hoping against hope that the wind and sea might go down, and that the ship might be kept afloat. At length, however, some of the crew showed signs of giving in. Willy saw several of them steal off to hide themselves away, but he instantly followed and drove them up again; they grumbled, but obeyed.
“What’s the use of working when we shall have to go to the bottom in a few hours?” exclaimed one.