Captain Osborn was on the
forecastle giving some orders to the men, when the strap of the block
which hoisted up the main-topgallant yard on the stump of the foremast
gave way, the yard and sail came down on the deck, and struck him
senseless. As long as Captain Osborn commanded them, the sailors had so
high an opinion of his abilities as a seaman, and were so encouraged by
his cheerful disposition, that they performed their work well and
cheerfully; but now that he was, if not killed, at all events senseless
and incapable of action, they no longer felt themselves under control.
Mackintosh was too much disliked by the seamen to allow his words to
have any weight with them. They were regardless of his injunctions or
requests, and they now consulted among themselves.
"The gale is broke, my men, and we shall have fine weather now,"
observed Ready, going up to the sailors on the forecastle. "The wind is
going down fast."
"Yes," replied one of the men, "and the ship is going down fast, that's
quite as certain."
"A good spell at the pumps would do us some good now," replied Ready.
"What d'ye say, my lads?"
"A glass of grog or two would do us more," replied the seaman.
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