Chapter 15 A
KNOCKING IN THE HOLDIt rained heavily all that day. Late in the afternoon we got
some wind, and all hands turned out to trim sail. Action was a
relief, and the weather suited our disheartened state better than
had the pitiless August sun, the glaring white of deck and canvas,
and the heat.
The heavy drops splashed and broke on top of the jolly-boat,
and, as the wind came up, it rode behind us like a live thing.
Our distress signal hung sodden, too wet to give more than a
dejected response to the wind that tugged at it. Late in the
afternoon we sighted a large steamer, and when, as darkness came
on, she showed no indication of changing her course, Burns and I
sent up a rocket and blew the fog horn steadily. She altered her
course then and came towards us, and we ra
