everything tipped over, man and gun and mast and bulwark. The air was full of smoke, but near me I could see a topsail of the enemy. Balls were now plunging in the water alongside, the spray drenching our deck. Some poor man lying low among the dead caught me by the boot-leg with an appealing gesture. I took hold of his collar, dragging him to the cockpit. The surgeon had just finished with D'ri. His arm was now in sling and bandages. He was lying on his back, the good arm over his face. There was a lull in the cannonading. I went quickly to his side.
"How are you feeling?" I asked, giving his hand a good grip.
"Nuthin' t' brag uv," he answered. "Never see nobody git hell rose with 'em s' quick es we did—never."
Just then we heard the voice of Perry. He stood on the stairs calling into the cockpit.
"Can any wounded man below there pull a rope?" he shouted.
D'ri was on his feet in a jiffy, and we were both clambering to the deck as another scud of junk went over us. Perry was trying, with
