Our young mate, and his sole assistant, Bob Betts, had set about their
work on the stream-cable and anchor, the lightest and most manageable of
all the ground-tackle in the vessel. Both were strong and active, and
both were expert in the use of blocks, purchases, and handspikes; but
the day was seen lighting the eastern sky, and the anchor was barely off
the gunwale, and ready to be stoppered in the meanwhile the ship still
tended in the right direction, the wind had moderated to a mere
royal-breeze, and the sea had so far gone down as nearly to leave the
vessel without motion. As soon as perfectly convinced of the existence
of this favourable state of things, and of its being likely to last,
Mark ceased to work, in order to wait for day, telling Bob to
discontinue his exertions also. It was fully time, for both of those
vigorous and strong-handed men were thoroughly fatigued with the toil of
that eventful morning.

The reader may easily imagine with what impatience our two mariners
waited the slow return of light. Each minute seemed an hour, and it
appeared to them as if the night was to last for ever. But the earth
performed its usual revolution, and by degrees sufficient light was
obtained to enable Mark and Bob to examine the state of things around
them. In order to do this the better, each went into a top, looking
abroad from those elevations on the face of the ocean, the different
points of the reef, and all that was then and there to be seen. Mark
went up forward, while Bob ascended into the main-top. The distance
between them was so small, that there was no difficulty in conversing,
which they continued to do, as was natural enough to men in their
situation.

The first look that each of our mariners bestowed, after he was in his
top, was to leeward, which being to the westward, was of course yet in