His eyes were turned towards me with a fixed look. I spoke, but he did not answer; I leant over him, no breath proceeded from his lips; I touched his brow, then I knew that the good old man was dead. Presently I closed his eyes, and with a sad heart returned on deck.

"He's gone, Jim," I cried.

"Gone! The captain gone! Then I am sorry," answered Jim, as he stopped pumping for a moment, though he still held the brake in his hands.

"Then, Peter, you and I must just do our best to take the brig into port by ourselves."

"I was thinking the same, Jim," I said. "He told us to get up jury-masts and steer west, and that's just what we must do if the wind will let us."

The death of our good captain made us feel very sad, for we had learned to look upon him as our true friend. It caused us also to become more anxious even than before about ourselves. With his a.s.sistance we had had little doubt, should the weather remain fine, of reaching a port, but as we were neither of us accustomed to the use of charts, and did not know how to take an observation, we could not tell to what port we should steer our course.

We had both, however, dauntless spirits, and had been accustomed from our childhood to trust to our own resources. Our grand idea was to steer west, if we could manage to get sail on the brig, but before this could be attempted we must pump her free of water.

There was no time to mourn for our old captain, so without delay we turned to at the pumps. My arms and legs and every part of my body felt very stiff. Jim saw that I should not be able to continue long at it.

"Peter, do you go below and look out for some spars to serve as jury-masts," he said; "I'll meantime keep on. We shall soon get the water under; it's only a wonder more hasn't come in."

Jim and I never thought who was captain; if I told him to do a thing he did it, or if he gave an order I did not stop to consider whether or not he had the right to command. We worked together as if we had but one will.

It was "a long pull, a strong pull, and a pull both together."

There were plenty of spars below, and I soon selected some which I thought would serve for the masts and yards we required. I had to call Jim to help me get them up on deck.

"There'll be no use for these till we can find some canvas to spread on them," I observed.

"Nor till we get a breeze to fill the sails," said Jim. "However, we'll get them set while the calm lasts, and no doubt you'll find as many as we can carry in the sail-room."

This was right aft, down a small hatchway. While Jim went again to his pump, I hunted about and hauled out two topgallantsails and royals, a fore-staysail, a second jib, and a main-trysail. If we could set all these we should do well, supposing we got a fair breeze. It would be no easy job, however, I knew, to get up the masts. We had one advantage.

The proper masts had been carried away some six or seven feet from the deck, so that we might lash the spars to them. Before setting to work I again went below to hunt for rope. I got more than I expected from different parts of the vessel, and we had also saved some of the rigging, which had been entangled in the bulwarks.

"We shall want every sc.r.a.p of rope we can find!" cried Jim, panting and still pumping away.

"I'll take a spell with you," I said. "Then we'll turn to and rig the ship."

I pumped till I could pump no longer, and then, after a short rest, we commenced in earnest. We first lashed a short spar, with a tackle secured to its head, to the stump of the foremast, and then, having fitted two shrouds on a side, with a forestay and backstays, and blocks for the halliards, to the spar we had chosen for a foremast, we swayed it up my means of the short spar and tackle. We could not possibly in any other way have accomplished our object. We next lashed the spar to the stump of the mast. No time was lost in setting up the standing rigging. Our foremast being thus fixed, we surveyed it with infinite satisfaction, and then turned to and fitted the brig with a mainmast in the same fashion. This we made somewhat stronger, as we intended it to carry a mainsail should we have to haul on a wind. Our work, as may be supposed, was not especially neat--indeed, we had to knot most of the shrouds, as it was necessary to keep all the longer lengths of rope for halliards, and we had none to spare.

I cannot stop to explain how we accomplished all this; we could not have done it without employing tackles, which we brought to the windla.s.s, and thus gained twenty times as much power as we by ourselves possessed.

We were now pretty well tired and hungry, for, except some bread and cheese and a jug of cold water, we had taken nothing all day.

It was with a feeling of awe that we went down into the cabin where the old captain lay. Jim, however, closed the door of the state-room, so that we could not see him. We then lighted the fire and cooked some dinner--or rather supper, for evening was drawing on. Anxious to be again at work, we hurried over the meal.

"I say, Peter, don't you think we ought to bury the skipper?" asked Jim, after a long silence.

"Not for some days to come," I answered; "I hope that we may get into port first, so as to lay him in a grave on sh.o.r.e."

"I don't think it will make much odds to him; and, to say the truth, now he's dead, I'd rather he were out of the ship," said Jim; "they say it's unlucky to have a dead man on board."

I had some difficulty in persuading Jim of the folly of such a notion, but we finally agreed that we would try to carry the captain's body to land.

Before bending sails we took a look down forward to see the condition of the leaks. The handspikes were in their places, and, except a slight moisture round the holes, we could not discover that any water was getting in. Still there was a great deal too much in the brig for safety, so we took another spell at the pumps before going on with the rigging.

Darkness found us hard at work. We were too tired and sleepy to attempt keeping a look-out, but I bethought me of hoisting a lantern at each masthead, which would save us from being run down should a breeze spring up during the night Jim thought the idea capital, and promised to get up and trim the lamps.

Fortunately, the nights were short, so that there was not much necessity for that. Our chief wish now was that the calm would continue for a few hours during the next day, that we might get the brig to rights.

"One spell more at the pumps!" cried Jim.

We seized the brakes, worked till we could work no longer, then went below, ate some food from the pantry, and lying down in the two larboard berths in the cabin, were fast asleep in a few seconds.

People talk of sleeping like tops. A hard-worked ship-boy will beat any top in the world at sleeping soundly.

For a second night the brig lay becalmed. I doubt that if even a fierce gale had sprung up it would have awakened us. The sun was shining when I opened my eyes. It might have been shining for hours for what I could tell.

I roused up Jim, and we sprang on deck, vexed at having, as we supposed, lost so much precious time. By the height of the sun above the horizon, however, we judged that it was not so late as we had at first fancied.

The clock in the cabin had been unshipped when the brig went over, and the captain's watch had stopped, so that we had otherwise no means of knowing how the hours pa.s.sed by. It was still perfectly calm. We looked round in all directions. Not a sail was in sight.

"We must get ready for the breeze, Jim, when it does spring up," I said.

"It will come before many hours are over, I've a notion."

I had observed some light clouds just under the sun.

"May be; but we must take a spell at the pumps first," he answered--his first thought was always of them.

We turned to as before, till our arms ached, and then we ran down and got some breakfast. We knew the value of time, but we couldn't get on without eating, any more than other people.

On returning to the deck we lowered the lanterns, which had long since gone out, finished bending the sails, fitting braces, tacks, sheets, and bowlines, and were then ready to hoist away. We at once set all the sails we had ready, to see how they stood. To our satisfaction, they appeared to greater advantage than we had expected.

"They'll do!" cried Jim, as we surveyed them; "only let us get a breeze from the right quarter, and we'll soon make the land."

Fortunately, the rudder had been uninjured when the brig went over, and the wheel was in order. I stood at the helm, longing for the time when I should see the brig moving through the water. I may say, once for all, that at very frequent intervals Jim and I went to the pumps, but he stood longer at the work than I did. There was urgent necessity for our doing so, as, notwithstanding all our exertions, we had but slightly diminished the water in the hold.

When not thus occupied we did various things that were necessary about the brig; among others we got life-lines round the shattered bulwarks, so that should a heavy sea get up, we might run less risk of being washed overboard. We also went to the store-room, and brought to the cabin various descriptions of provisions, that we might have them at hand when wanted. We knew that when once we got a wind we should have no time to do anything besides navigating the vessel.

I had gone below to get dinner ready, the only hot meal we took in the day, leaving Jim pumping, when I heard him sing out down the companion-hatchway--

"Here it comes, and a rattling breeze, too."

I sprang on deck and went to the helm, while Jim stood ready to trim sails. Looking astern I could see a line of white foam sweeping along towards us over the surface of the ocean. Before it was up to us the sails bulged out, the brig gathered way, and presently she was gliding at the rate of three or four knots through the water.

Jim and I shouted with exultation--we forgot the past--we thought not of the future. We believed that we were about to reap the fruit of our labours.

For several hours we ran on with the wind right aft, steering due west.

I steered for most of the time, but Jim occasionally relieved me. So eager were we that we forgot all about eating, till he cried out--

"I must have some food, Peter, or I shall drop."

I was running below to get it, feeling just as hungry as he did, when the wind hauled more to the southward. We took a pull at the starboard braces, and I then hurried below to bring up what we wanted. Just as I was cutting some meat which had been boiling till the fire went out, I heard a crash. I sprang up on deck. The brig was again dismasted, and Jim was struggling in the waves astern.