indade; why not?" questioned the Irishman.

"Comee, Multa! you help me; we step one oal--it makee mass--we lig him
up little time."

"All roight, Sloo," responded Murtagh, leaning over and seizing one of
the oars, while the Malay lifted the tarpaulin from where it lay folded
up, and commenced shaking the creases out of it.

With the dexterity of a practised sailor, Murtagh soon had the oar
upright, and its end "stepped," between two ribs of the boat, and firmly
lashed to one of the strong planks that served as seats. Assisted by
the captain himself, the tarpaulin was bent on, and with a "sheet"
attached to one corner rigged sail-fashion. In an instant it caught the
stiff breeze, and bellied out; when the pinnace feeling the impulse,
began to move rapidly through the water, leaving in her wake a stream of
sparkling phosphorescence that looked like liquid fire.

They had no compass, and therefore could not tell the exact direction in
which they were being carried. But a yellowish streak on the horizon,
showing where the sun had set, was still lingering when the wind began
to freshen, and as it was one of those steady, regular winds, that
endure for hours without change, they could by this means guess at the
direction--which was toward that part of the horizon where the yellowish
spot had but lately faded out; in short, toward the west.

Westward from the place where the cyclone had struck the ship, lay the
great island of Borneo. They knew it to be the nearest land, and for
this had they been directing the boat's course ever since their
disaster. The tarpaulin now promised to bring them nearer to it in one
night, than their oars had done with days of hopeless exertion.

It was a long twelve-hour night; for under the "Line"--and they were
less than three degrees from it--the days and nights are equal. But
throughout all its hours, the wind continued to blow steadily from the
same quarter; and the spread tarpaulin, thick and strong, caught every
puff of it acting admirably. It was, in fact, as much canvas as the
pinnace could well have carried on such a rough sea-breeze, and served
as a storm-try sail to run her before the wind.

Captain Redwood himself held charge of the tiller; and all were cheered
with the fine speed they were making--their spirits rising in proportion
to the distance passed over. Before daylight came to add to their
cheerfulness, they must have made nearly a hundred miles; but ere the
da