Crack! crack! crack! went the belaying-pin on the wretched man's head.
Suddenly, in the midst of it all, the wind lulled again, and the bosun, crawling up the sloping deck on hands and knees, gave tongue lustily:
"Haul away there, haul away, haul away, haul away!"
Once more backs were bent and arms stretched out. Slowly the buntlines came two blocks under the frenzied efforts of the half-dazed men.
"Away aloft an' make it fast!" came the command.
The stumbling, panting crowd pushed and shoved and tumbled over each other as they struggled to the rail and swarmed over it into the rigging.
Headed by the untiring bosun, they raced up the ratlines and scrambled out along the footropes.
"Dig your fingers in and on to the yard with her, boys. All together, now, ay-hay an' up she comes!" roared the bosun from the bunt. "Make a skin! make a skin!" he went on sharply.
"It's shore none easy," muttered Broncho.
"Now you have her! now you have her!" came the bosun's overstrained voice again. "Roll her, boys, roll her!"