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- Джек Лондон
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It
was
now
so
dark
that
there
was
no
sign
of
the
boat
;
but
Wolf
Larsen
held
back
through
the
frightful
turmoil
as
if
guided
by
unerring
instinct
.
This
time
,
though
we
were
continually
half-buried
,
there
was
no
trough
in
which
to
be
swept
,
and
we
drifted
squarely
down
upon
the
upturned
boat
,
badly
smashing
it
as
it
was
heaved
inboard
.
Two
hours
of
terrible
work
followed
,
in
which
all
hands
of
us
--
two
hunters
,
three
sailors
,
Wolf
Larsen
and
I
--
reefed
,
first
one
and
then
the
other
,
the
jib
and
mainsail
.
Hove
to
under
this
short
canvas
,
our
decks
were
comparatively
free
of
water
,
while
the
Ghost
bobbed
and
ducked
amongst
the
combers
like
a
cork
.
I
had
burst
open
the
ends
of
my
fingers
at
the
very
first
,
and
during
the
reefing
I
had
worked
with
tears
of
pain
running
down
my
cheeks
.
And
when
all
was
done
,
I
gave
up
like
a
woman
and
rolled
upon
the
deck
in
the
agony
of
exhaustion
.
In
the
meantime
Thomas
Mugridge
,
like
a
drowned
rat
,
was
being
dragged
out
from
under
the
forecastle
head
where
he
had
cravenly
ensconced
himself
.
I
saw
him
pulled
aft
to
the
cabin
,
and
noted
with
a
shock
of
surprise
that
the
galley
had
disappeared
.
A
clean
space
of
deck
showed
where
it
had
stood
.
In
the
cabin
I
found
all
hands
assembled
,
sailors
as
well
,
and
while
coffee
was
being
cooked
over
the
small
stove
we
drank
whisky
and
crunched
hard-tack
.
Never
in
my
life
had
food
been
so
welcome
.
And
never
had
hot
coffee
tasted
so
good
.
So
violently
did
the
Ghost
,
pitch
and
toss
and
tumble
that
it
was
impossible
for
even
the
sailors
to
move
about
without
holding
on
,
and
several
times
,
after
a
cry
of
"
Now
she
takes
it
!
"
we
were
heaped
upon
the
wall
of
the
port
cabins
as
though
it
had
been
the
deck
.
"
To
hell
with
a
look-out
,
"
I
heard
Wolf
Larsen
say
when
we
had
eaten
and
drunk
our
fill
.
"
There
's
nothing
can
be
done
on
deck
.
If
anything
's
going
to
run
us
down
we
could
n't
get
out
of
its
way
.
Turn
in
,
all
hands
,
and
get
some
sleep
.
"
The
sailors
slipped
forward
,
setting
the
side-lights
as
they
went
,
while
the
two
hunters
remained
to
sleep
in
the
cabin
,
it
not
being
deemed
advisable
to
open
the
slide
to
the
steerage
companion-way
.
Wolf
Larsen
and
I
,
between
us
,
cut
off
Kerfoot
's
crushed
finger
and
sewed
up
the
stump
Mugridge
,
who
,
during
all
the
time
he
had
been
compelled
to
cook
and
serve
coffee
and
keep
the
fire
going
,
had
complained
of
internal
pains
,
now
swore
that
he
had
a
broken
rib
or
two
.
On
examination
we
found
that
he
had
three
.
But
his
case
was
deferred
to
next
day
,
principally
for
the
reason
that
I
did
not
know
anything
about
broken
ribs
and
would
first
have
to
read
it
up
.
"
I
do
n't
think
it
was
worth
it
,
"
I
said
to
Wolf
Larsen
,
"
a
broken
boat
for
Kelly
's
life
.
"
