Then he went on to the forecastle-head, followed
by Mr. Mellaire, while I waited by the foremast, clinging tight, and
endured another ducking. Through the emergencies I could see the
pencil of light, appearing and disappearing, darting here and there.
Several minutes later the mates were back with me.
"Half our head-gear's carried away," Mr. Pike told me. "We must have
run into something."
"I felt a jar, right after you' went below, sir, last time," said Mr.
Mellaire. "Only I thought it was a thump of sea."
"So did I feel it," the mate agreed. "I was just taking off my
boots. I thought it was a sea. But where are the three devils?"
"Broaching the cask," the second mate suggested.
We made the forecastle-head, descended the iron ladder, and went
for'ard, inside, underneath, out of the wind and sea. There lay the
cask, securely lashed. The size of the barnacles on it was
astonishing. They were as large as apples and inches deep. A down-
fling of bow brought a foot of water about our boots; and as the bow
lifted and the water drained away, it drew out from the shell-crusted
cask streamers of seaweed a foot or so in length.
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