The Esperanza was still smothered, and a stab of pity
went through Joe's heart as he saw his shipmate wallowing. But he had no
time for sentiment; he grabbed the reef-earring with his left hand, and
clutched at the man with his right. When the vessel shook herself, both
good fellows came inboard, and hung on panting. "No time to lose," said
Joe; and indeed there wasn't. The spoondrift began to fly so that you
could not see the moon, and the wind was enough to choke you if you
faced it. I have heard Joe say that small shot couldn't have hit you
very much harder than the drift when you looked to windward. Then the
sea was growing worse every minute, until at last every man on board
except the skipper wanted to let her ride. But the worthy captain said,
"If she's got to be smothered, she'll be smothered moving. The nearer to
home the nearer to help, and she shall go." So the Esperanza tore on
throughout the awful night with all four of her reefs in, and it was a
mercy, that she was never badly hit.
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