Hanging on there he looked up in
an aimless manner at Singleton, who, unheeding him, watched anxiously
the end of the jib-boom--"Steering gear works all right?" he asked.
There was a noise in the old seaman's throat, as though the words had
been rattling together before they could come out.--"Steers... like a
little boat," he said, at last, with hoarse tenderness, without giving
the master as much as half a glance--then, watchfully, spun the wheel
down, steadied, flung it back again. Captain Allistoun tore himself away
from the delight of leaning against the binnacle, and began to walk the
poop, swaying and reeling to preserve his balance....
The pump-rods, clanking, stamped in short jumps while the fly-wheels
turned smoothly, with great speed, at the foot of the mainmast, flinging
back and forth with a regular impetuosity two limp clusters of men
clinging to the handles. They abandoned themselves, swaying from the hip
with twitching faces and stony eyes. The carpenter, sounding from time
to time, exclaimed mechanically: "Shake her up! Keep her going!" Mr.
Baker could not speak, but found his voice to shout; and under the goad
of his objurgations, men looked to the lashings, dragged out new
sails; and thinking themselves unable to move, carried heavy blocks
aloft--overhauled the gear.
Pages:
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151