bo'sun, whose boat had the lead, cried out that there was some craft
lying-up, a little beyond the first bend. And, indeed, so it seemed; for
one of the masts of her--all jagged, where it had carried away--stuck up
plain to our view.

Now, having grown sick with so much lonesomeness, and being in fear of
the approaching night, we gave out something near to a cheer, which,
however, the bo'sun silenced, having no knowledge of those who might
occupy the stranger. And so, in silence, the bo'sun turned his craft
toward the creek, whereat we followed, taking heed to keep quietness, and
working the oars warily. So, in a little, we came to the shoulder of the
bend, and had plain sight of the vessel some little way beyond us. From
the distance she had no appearance of being inhabited; so that after some
small hesitation, we pulled towards her, though still being at pains to
keep silence.

The strange vessel lay against that bank of the creek which was upon our
right, and over above her was a thick clump of the stunted trees. For the
rest, she appeared to be firmly imbedded in the heavy mud, and there was
a certain look of age about her which carried to me a doleful suggestion
that we should find naught aboard of her fit for an honest stomach.

We had come to a distance of maybe some ten fathoms from her starboard
bow--for she lay with her head down towards the mouth of the little
creek--when the bo'sun bade his men to back water, the which Josh did
regarding our own boat. Then, being ready to fly if we had been in
danger, the bo'sun hailed the stranger; but got no reply, save that some
echo of his shout seemed to come back at us. And so he sung out again to
her, chance there might be some below decks who had not caught his first
hail; but, for the second time, no answer came to us, save the low