"I hope no harm has befallen him," I replied anxiously. "But I lost sight of him in the fray, and I know not where he could be."
"Oliver!" shouted Drake, raising his voice, "where art thou?"
"Here," answered a muffled voice, which sounded as though it came from the bowels of the earth.
"Where?" I shouted. "I can see naught of thee."
"Up near the mast," he replied. "I am under a pile of bodies, which, from the feeling of my back, must be at least a mile high."
Treading among the dead, with which the deck was covered, we at last reached the place from which the voice proceeded. There, from under one side of a huge pile of the slain, protruded the legs of the lad. 'Twould have been laughable, had it not been for the gravity of the surroundings. The lad's head was on the other side from us, his body pinned down under the dead, who had fallen crosswise over him, and had doubtless protected his life in the fight by concealing him from view.
I smiled as I saw the spindling legs.
"Thou seemest comfortable and easy where thou liest—no doubt resting from the fatigue of the day. We had perhaps best leave thee where thou art; 'twill keep thee out of mischief."
"Comfortable!" he shouted. "My back is almost broken with the weight upon it. I feel like Atlas bearing the world upon my shoulders. Pull them off, I tell thee!"