"That's a good find," he ejaculated. "Crickey! what is this?"
He drew forth from under the bow a strip of canvas and an old rusty hatchet. The possession of these articles raised his spirits for a time, so that he set to work to rig up a sort of jury mast and sail. There were three thwarts. From one of these he managed to split two pieces some six feet long without impairing its strength as a brace to stiffen the boat. He lashed the three together with a few bits of spun yarn from his pocket, making a mast nearly ten feet long.
Next he split from the other thwarts a piece or two for a boom, then he turned his attention to the sail.
Part of the canvas he tore into strips, and by the help of these he manufactured a sort of lug sail of sufficient size to keep the boat steady in a seaway, and in running with a fair wind to make two or three miles an hour.
To step and wedge the mast with the aid of the hatchet and more splinters from the thwarts, did not take long. The only thing that bothered him was the main sheet, or—to explain—the rope which should hold the sail taut and trim.
His eye happened to rest on the knot of the painter where it was fastened to a ring bolt at the bow. He drew the wet line aboard, untied the knot and soon had his main sheet fastened to the boom.
There was a cleat near the tiller and Ralph, hauling in, brought the yawl a little up in the wind and soon had the craft under headway.
"By jolly!" he exclaimed, "but this isn't so very bad, after all. If I only knew where to head now, I might strike the Cape Verdes. I suppose I might hit Africa if I went east long enough; that is, supposing I didn't capsize or founder, or starve, or something. Heigho! How weak I feel. Believe I'll take breakfast."
So he took up the keg and drank heartily, for his wound had made him slightly feverish.
"I must touch it lighter than this," he said as he put down the keg. "Lord only knows when or where I will get it filled again."