ire to be understood, but the wind tossed their words unheard upon
the disturbed sea. In an unendurable and unending strain they worked
like men driven by a merciless dream to toil in an atmosphere of ice or
flame. They burnt and shivered in turns. Their eyeballs smarted as if
in the smoke of a conflagration; their heads were ready to' burst with
every shout. Hard fingers seemed to grip their throats. At every roll
they thought: Now I must let go. It will shake us all off--and thrown
about aloft they cried wildly: "Look out there--catch the end."...
"Reeve clear"... "Turn this block...." They nodded desperately; shook
infuriated faces, "No! No! From down up." They seemed to hate one
another with a deadly hate, The longing to be done with it all gnawed
their breasts, and the wish to do things well was a burning pain. They
cursed their fate, contemned their life, and wasted their breath in
deadly imprecations upon one another.' The sailmaker, with his bald head
bared, worked feverishly, forgetting his intimacy with so many admirals.
The boatswain, climbing up with marlinspikes and bunches of spunyarn
rovings, or kneeling on the yard and ready to take a turn with the
midship-stop, had acute and fleeting visions of his old woman and the
youngsters in a moorland village. Mr. Baker, feeling very weak, tottered
here and there, grunting and inflexible, like a man of iron. He waylaid
those who, coming from aloft, stood gasping for breath. He ordered,
encouraged, scolded. "Now then--to the main topsail now! Tally on to that
gantline. Don't stand about there!"--"Is there no rest for us?" muttered
voices. He spun round fiercely, with a sinking heart.--"No! No rest till
the work is done. Work till you drop. That's what you're here for." A
bowed seaman at his elbow gave a short laugh.--"Do or die," he croaked
bitterly, then spat into his broad palms, swung up his long arms, and
grasping the rope high above his head sent out a mournful, wailing cry
for a pull all together. A sea boarded the quarter-deck and sent the
whole lot sprawling to leeward. Caps, handspikes floated. Clenched
hands, kicking legs, with here and there a spluttering face, stuck out
of the white hiss of foaming water. Mr. Baker, knocked down with the
rest, screamed--"Don't let go that rope! Hold on to it! Hold!" And sorely
bruised by the brutal fling, they held on to it, as though it had
been the fortune of their life. The ship ran, rolling heavily, and the
topping cr