At the first dawn of day, Harry went on deck to learn their situation.
What a change had been wrought in a few hours. Their masts had been
carried away, the decks had been swept clean; and he learned that
several poor fellows had lost their hold, and were not seen more.
"Well, I'll be d----d if that son of a cannibal hasn't sneaked away into
some hole, and kept his footing," exclaimed the captain, as he saw the
boy appear above deck; "I was in hopes he had found safe quarters in
Davy Jones's locker! But there's no getting rid of such scalawags!"
"Captain Jostler," cried Mr. Sampson, raising his hat, "it's none of my
business, and you may knock me down the next minute, if you please, but
God knows there's not a man aboard but owes his life to that boy. I have
no mutinous designs, sir, but at such a moment as this I will speak,
sir, come what will, and thank God the boy had sense enough to go below,
when he knew he could be of no use here."
The captain looked daggers; he was about to seize Sampson by the throat,
when a voice from the assembled crew was heard:
"Three cheers and long life to the boy, captain or no captain!
_Hurrah!_ HURRAH!! HURRAH!!!" shouted the grateful tars, making the
welkin ring.
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