bunks to look through the
ports there.

"It's all around us! Hear her settling? She's making a bed for herself in
the coral-patch and she's not taking any more water. She's safe as a
church, Mr. Trenholm. If the tide don't lift her off enough to pull her
into deep water, or the current swing her, she'll hold until the sea
comes up; but she's pretty deep and lays steady. She'll break up right
here."

"That's small comfort for us," I said, nursing my bruises.

"They've gone in behind that point and made a landing," said Riggs, still
looking through the port. "We'll be out of here in jig-time now. Where be
my matches? Here! You and Rajah fish for water with these tins on a
string, and wet down all these rags. Pull all the water in here you can."

He lit the slush-lamp again, and I wondered what he was about. I was not
quite sure whether he knew of a way to get out of the forecastle, or had
lost his reason. He was all bustle and business in a minute.

"I thought we wanted to keep the water out," I remarked.

"Stow that talk and obey orders," said Riggs sharply, digging grease out
of the can of the lamp with his fingers and picking the wick to make it
burn better. "Look lively now with that water and I'll show you a trick
or two now that they've abandoned ship. I'll take a hand in this business
myself."

"What's the plan?" I asked.

"Burn the cussed scuttle off a mite at a time. Grease a bit of the board
and then hold the flame of the lamp on it, and, when it gets too lively,
heave some water on and put it out and begin again. Haul a couple of
barrels of water in here and spill it under the bunks so we can git at it
with the pans if the fire starts to git away from us. Clap on, man;
we need every minute now."

Rajah and I rigged them with strings and set to drawing water through the
port-holes on the port side, which was not a hard job, for the swells
came within a couple of feet of our hands as we held the tins outside. We
filled sea-chests, the rubber crowns of a couple of old sou'westers, and
dumped water through the slats of the tiers of bunks so that it lodged in
the angle between the side of the ship and the deck.

While we were at this task Riggs was up in the scuttle, and from time to
time we could hear the crackle of flames, and then the hissing of the
water as he extinguished the burning planks. The thick smoke came down
the companion and burned our eyes and nostrils as it escaped through the
ports.