ers gurgled and sobbed for a little
while longer, and then perfect silence, joined to perfect immobility,
proclaimed the yet unbroken spell of our helplessness, poised on the
edge of some violent issue, lurking in the dark.

I started forward restlessly. I did not need my sight to pace the poop
of my ill-starred first command with perfect assurance. Every square
foot of her decks was impressed indelibly on my brain, to the very
grain and knots of the planks. Yet, all of a sudden, I fell clean over
something, landing full length on my hands and face.

It was something big and alive. Not a dog--more like a sheep, rather. But
there were no animals in the ship. How could an animal. . . . It was an
added and fantastic horror which I could not resist. The hair of my
head stirred even as I picked myself up, awfully scared; not as a man
is scared while his judgment, his reason still try to resist, but
completely, boundlessly, and, as it were, innocently scared--like a
little child.

I could see It--that Thing! The darkness, of which so much had just
turned into water, had thinned down a little. There It was! But I did
not hit upon the notion of Mr. Burns issuing out of the companion on all
fours till he attempted to stand up, and even then the idea of a bear
crossed my mind first.

He growled like one when I seized him round the body. He had buttoned
himself up into an enormous winter overcoat of some woolly material, the
weight of which was too much for his reduced state. I could hardly feel
the incredibly thin lath of his body, lost within the thick stuff, but
his growl had depth and substance: Confounded dump ship with a craven,
tiptoeing crowd. Why couldn't they stamp and go with a brace? Wasn't
there one Godforsaken lubber in the lot fit to raise a yell on a rope?

"Skulking's no good, sir," he attacked me directly. "You can't slink
past the old murderous ruffian. It isn't the way. You must go for him
boldly--as I did. Boldness is what you want. Show him that you don't
care for any of his damned tricks. Kick up a jolly old row."

"Good God, Mr. Burns," I said angrily. "What on earth are you up to?
What do you mean by coming up on deck in this state?"

"Just that! Boldness. The only way to scare the old bullying rascal."

I pushed him, still growling, against the rail. "Hold on to it," I said
roughly. I did not know what to do with him. I left him in a hurry, to
go to Gambril, who had called faintly that he believed