We answered the knocks, which were repeated, and we soon found that we
could signal to or talk to our friends forward, for we had pretty well
made out now which was fore and which aft, though it was evidently a
dead calm again, and the ship was rolling slowly from side to side.
But though we could signal and converse, there was no code for the
signals, and our conversation was in an unknown tongue.
I suppose it was the heat, or the fact that I had gone through so
terrible an experience from the narcotic, which made me feel so
intensely irritable, for after our knocking and tapping had gone on for
some time, I exclaimed--
"I wish to goodness they wouldn't. What is the good of their keeping on
doing that? It means nothing, and does no good."
"Oh, but it do mean something, sir," said Bob.
"Well, then, what?"
"They keep on tapping to show us where they are, and means us to go to
them."
"Why don't they come to us?" I said, in a tone full of vexation.
"'Cause they can't, sir."
"And we can't go to them," I cried pettishly.
"Well, I don't know, sir; I've been thinking as perhaps we could."
"But how, man? We can't get through all these cases and barrels and
things."
"No, sir; but praps we might manage to creep along over 'em. One on us
ought to volunteer to try."
"All right; volunteer it is," growled Dumlow. "I'll go."
"There you are, Mr Dale, sir. Never say die. Wait a minute, Neb, old
man, and let's set my fingers and thumbs to work to try whether they can
see a hole as 'll soot you to go along by."
"There can't be any holes, Bob," I said.
"Mebbe not, sir; but I tell you what cargo does in a voyage, specially
if you get a storm or two to shake it together. You may pack it and jam
it as much as you like when you're in dock, but it's sure to settle a
bit, and leave some room up at the top. I'm going to try whether there
arn't some o' that room here."
We waited almost breathlessly, and listened to our fellow-prisoner as he
rustled about; and then my heart gave a bound, for he exclaimed--
"Here's plenty o' room here, sir, just at the top, but it goes aft.
This can't be toward the bows. But it was this way as the knocking
came, warn't it?"
"No, no, no," we all cried. "The other way."
"Look at that," growled Bob. "My head can't be right yet, or else it's
the darkness as confooses a man. It's like being in a thick fog and
having to steer."
"Try again," I said.
"Ay, ay, sir; I'll try again, o' course."
"I say, don't kneel on a man's chesty like that, messmate," grumbled
Dumlow.
"Then why don't you put your chesty somewheres else?" growled Bob.
"You're allers lying about all over the deck."
"Nay, I arn't, matey," remonstrated Dumlow. "Speak the truth, my lad,
if you can."
"Why, you're spreadin' about on your back now, arn't yer?"
"Course I am, mate; I was trying how flat I could make myself 'fore I
started on the adwenter."
"Try, pray try the other way, Bob, and don't quarrel so--"
"Now hark at that, Barney, when I'm trying all I can to be as civil and
smooth as butter, on'y Neb let out at me."
There was a pause, and we could hear Bob grunting as he felt about in
the other direction, sending joy into all our hearts directly, just as
the tapping began again.
"It's just as I said, Mr Dale, sir," he whispered. "The knocking comes
along over the cargo here, and there is just room for a man to creep
along."
"Hush! let me answer the knocking first," I whispered.
"Never mind the knocking, sir; let's get to 'em 'fore we misses the
chance. Now, Neb, lad; ready?"
"Ready it is, messmate."
"Here you are then; on'y go face downwards."
"Would yer? Can't breathe so well if you turns yer fizzy mahogany
down."
"And yer can't crawl so well if yer goes with it up."
"You had better crawl, Dumlow," I whispered; "but try and go straight
toward where the knocking came from."
"He'll be 'bliged to, sir. No doubt about that, 'cause there arn't no
other way. Now then, I'll give yer a hyste. Can you manage it?"
There was a loud breathing and panting, and though Barney Blane and I
could see nothing with our eyes, yet we could mentally picture the great
slow-moving sailor crawling into an aperture between the beams and the
heterogeneous stowing of bales and boxes, casks and crates of all kinds
of goods en route for our destination.
Now we knew that his head and chest were in, for his voice came in a
half-smothered tone.
"Deal hotter in here, messmate. Just take hold o' my hind legs, as if
they was part of a wheelbarrow, and give 'em a lift and a shove at the
same time."
"That right?"
"Yes; that's good. Steady!"
"Steady it is."
"Now another. With a will, my lad."
"Right. How far are yer in?"
"Up to the middle, lad; and if yer give another shove I can get a bit of
a pull here. That's yer sort."
"I can't get you up no farder, messmate," said Bob. "Yes, I can, if you
clap your foots together. I'll plant my hands again 'em, and ram yer
along that way. Ready?"
"Ay, ready," came in smothered tones.
"There you goes then," growled Bob. "Now another. I'll shove yer feet
with my hands."