“‘I’ll see you sunk, Jowl!’ says I, ‘afore I pumps another stroke. If you wants t’ drown afore night I’ll not hinder. Oh no, Mister Jowl!’ says I. ‘I’ll not be standin’ in your light.’ “‘Tumm,’ says he, ‘I got a idea.’ “‘Dear man!’ says I. “‘The wind’s moderatin’,’ says he, ‘an’ it won’t be long afore the sea gets civil. But the _Wings o’ the Mornin’_ won’t float overlong. She’ve been settlin’ hasty for the last hour. Still an’ all, I ’low I got time t’ make a raft, which I’ll do.’ “‘Look!’ says I. “Off near where the sun was settin’ the clouds broke. ’Twas but a slit, but it let loose a flood o’ red light. ’Twas a bloody sky an’ sea—red as shed blood, but full o’ the promise o’ peace which follows storm, as the good God directs. “‘I ’low,’ says he, ‘the wind will go down with the sun.’ “The vessel was makin’ heavy labor of it. ‘I bets you,’ says I, ‘the _Wings o’ the Mornin’_ beats un both.’ “‘Time’ll tell,’ says he. “I give un a hand with the raft. An’ hard work ’twas; never knowed no harder, before nor since, with the seas comin’ overside, an’ the deck pitchin’ like mad, an’ the night droppin’ down. Ecod! but I isn’t able t’ tell you. I forgets what we done in the red light o’ that day. ’Twas labor for giants an’ devils! But we had the raft in the water afore dark, ridin’ in the lee, off the hulk. It didn’t look healthy, an’ was by no means invitin’; but the _Wings o’ the Mornin’_ was about t’ bow an’ retire, if the signs spoke true, an’ the raft was the only hope in all the brutal world. I took kindly t’ the crazy thing—I ’low I did! “‘Tumm,’ says Jowl, ‘I ’low you thinks you got some rights in that raft.’ “‘I do,’ says I. “‘But you isn’t,’ says he. ‘You isn’t, Tumm, because I’m a sight bigger ’n you, an’ could put you off. It isn’t in my mind t’ do it—but I _could_. I wants company, Tumm, for it looks like a long v’y’ge, an’ I’m ’lowin’ t’ have you.’ “‘What about the crew?’ says I. “‘They isn’t room for more’n two on that raft,’ says he. “‘Dear God! Jowl,’ says I, ‘what you goin’ t’ do?’ “‘I’m goin’ t’ try my level best,’ says he, ‘t’ get home t’ my wife an’ kid; for they’d be wonderful disappointed if I didn’t turn up.’ “‘But the crew’s got wives an’ kids!’ says I. “‘An’ bad stomachs,’ says he. “‘Jowl,’ says I, ‘she’s sinkin’ fast.’ “‘Then I ’low we better make haste.’ “I started for’ard. “‘Tumm,’ says he, ‘don’t you go another step. If them swine in the forecastle knowed they was a raft ’longside, they’d steal it. It won’t _hold_ un, Tumm. It won’t hold more’n two, an’, ecod!’ says he, with a look at the raft, ‘I’m doubtin’ that she’s able for _that_!’ “It made me shiver. “‘No, sir!’ says he. ‘I ’low she won’t hold more’n one.’ “‘Oh yes, she will, Jowl!’ says I. ‘Dear man! yes; she’s able for two.’ “‘Maybe,’ says he. “‘Handy!’ says I. ‘Oh, handy, man!’ “‘We’ll try,’ says he, ‘whatever comes of it. An’ if she makes bad weather, why, you can—’ “He stopped. “‘Why don’t you say the rest?’ says I.