When anything was put
to him, he would say, "Aye, aye, b'ye," and take no further heed. He
was utterly crushed by the disaster that had come so suddenly on the
heels of his "good luck." He sat staring stonily ahead, deaf to our
hopes and fears.
Water we had in plenty as the day wore on. The rain-soaked clothes of
us were sufficient for the time, but soon hunger came and added a
physical pain to the torture of our doubt. Again and again we stood up
on the reeling thwarts and looked wildly around the sea-line. No
pinnace--no ship--nothing! Nothing, only sea and sky, and circling
sea-birds that came to mock at our misery with their plaintive cries.
A bitter night! A no less cruel day! Dark came on us again, chill and
windy, and the salt spray cutting at us like a whiplash.
Boo-m-m!
Big Jones stood up in the stern-sheets, swaying unsteadily. "D'ye hear
anything there? . . . Like a gun?"
A gun? Gun? . . . Nothing new! . . . We had been hearing guns,
seeing sails--in our minds--all the day! All day . . . guns . . . and
sail! Boom-m-m-m!
"Gun! Oh God . . . a gun! Capt'n, a gun, d'ye hear! Hay--Hay-H. Out
oars, there! A gun!" Hoarse in excitement Jones shook the old man and
called at his ear.
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