I told them about the hail, and we listened
in the smother of the fog for the sound of a screw. We listened for
ten minutes, then we blew the whistle for another ten. Then the crew
began to call the ship's boy a fool, meaning that the third mate was
no better. When they were going down below, I heard the hail the third
time, so did the ship's boy. 'There you are,' I said, 'it is not twenty
yards from us.' The engineer sings out, 'I heard it too! Are you all
asleep?' Then the crew began to swear at the engineer; and what with
discussion, argument, and a little swearing,--for there is not much
discipline on board a tramp,--we raised such a row that our skipper
came aft to enquire. I, the engineer, and the ship's boy stuck to our
tale. 'Voices or no voices,' said the captain, 'you'd better patch the
old engines up, and see if you've got enough steam to whistle with.
I've a notion that we've got into rather too crowded ways.'
'"The engineer stayed on deck while the men went down below. The skipper
hadn't got back to the chart-room before I saw thirty feet of bowsprit
hanging over the break of the fo'c'sle.
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