O Nancy Dawson, hi--o!
Cheer'ly man! She's got a notion, hi--o!
Cheer'ly manl For our old bo'sun, hi--o!
Cheer'ly man! O hauley hi--o!
Cheer'ly man!
--Hauling Song.
Boyd Mayo soon found that his ancestors had put no scrub timber into the
Polly. The old oak rib was tough as well as bulky. The task of sawing
with merely the tip of the blade in play required both muscle and
patience, and the position he was obliged to assume added to his
difficulties. He rested after he had sawed the rib in four places, and
decided to give Oakum Otie something to do; the mate had been begging
for an opportunity to grab in. He was ordered to knock away as much as
he could of the sawed section with hammer and chisel. Mayo figured that
when this section of rib had been removed it would leave room for a hole
through the bottom planks at least two feet square--and there were no
swelling girths in their party.
The mate had strength, and he was eager to display that helpful spirit
of which he had boasted. He went at the beam with all his might.
Mayo's attention had been centered on his task; now, with a moment's
leisure in which to note other matters, he was conscious of something
which provoked his apprehension; the air under the hull of the schooner
was becoming vitiated. His temples throbbed and his ears rang.
"Ain't it getting pretty stuffy in here?" asked the master, putting
words to Mayo's thoughts.
"I have been feeling like a bug under a thimble for some little time,"
stated Otie, whacking his chisel sturdily.
"Her bottom can't be awash with all this lumber in her. If we can only
get a little speck of a hole through the outside planking right now,
we'd better do it," suggested Candage.
"That's just what I have been doing," declared Mr. Speed. "I'm right
after the job, gents, when I get started on a thing. Helpful and
enterprising, that's my motto!"
The next moment, before Mayo, his thoughts busy with his new danger of
suffocation, could voice warning or had grasped the full import of the
dialogue, the chisel's edge plugged through the planking. Instantly
there was a hiss like escaping steam. Mayo yelled an oath and set his
hands against the mate, pushing him violently away. The industrious Mr.
Speed had been devoting his attention to the planking instead of to the
sawed beam.
Wan light filtered through the crevice made by the chisel and Mayo
planted his palm against the crack. The pressure held his hand as if it
were clamped against the planks, and the hissing ceased.