supply milk for his tea, a beverage that, oddly enough, stood second
only to grog in his favour. After Bob had attended to the wants of the
brute animals, he and Mark, again sat down on the windlass to make
another cold repast on broken meat--as yet, they had not the hearts to
cook anything. As soon as this homely meal was taken Mark placed a
couple of buoys in the dingui, with the pig-iron that was necessary to
anchor them, and proceeded to the spot on the reef, where it was
proposed to place them.

Our mariners were quite an hour in searching for the channel, and near
another in anchoring the buoys in a way to render the passage perfectly
safe. As soon as this was done, Bob pulled back to the ship, which was
less than a mile distant, as fast as he could, for there was every
appearance of a change of weather. The moment was one, now, that
demanded great coolness and decision. Not more than an hour of day
remained, and the question was whether to attempt to move the ship that
night, when the channel and its marks were all fresh in the minds of the
two seamen, and before the foul weather came, or to trust to the cable
that was down to ride out any blow that might happen. Mark, young as he
was, thought justly on most professional subjects. He knew that heavy
rollers would come in across the reef where the vessel then lay, and was
fearful that the cable would chafe and part, should it come on to blow
hard for four-and-twenty hours continually. These rollers, he also knew
by the observation of that day, were completely broken and dispersed on
the rocks, before they got down to the island, and he believed the
chances of safety much greater by moving the ship at once, than by
trying the fortune of another night, out where she then lay. Bob
submitted to this decision precisely as if Mark was still his officer,
and no sooner got his orders than he sprang from sail to sail, and rope
to rope, like a cat playing among the branches of some tree. In that