The confusion for some minutes was indescribable, and by way of improving the situation, the bosun and four of the best men were washed from the clew-garnet into the lee-scuppers. At the break of the poop the old man danced and screamed with rage, swinging his arms and beating his fists on the rail in a very whirlwind of passion. Black Davis, hanging on with one hand and grasping a belaying-pin in the other, clawed his way skilfully along the weather bulwark and pounced upon the unfortunate Dutchman. "Hell an' furies!" he screeched. "Yew infernal, stockfish poundin' Dutch son of a shark, yew slab-sided, bean-swillin', dunderhead yew, what yew think y'r doin', hey? Want ter carry away the mainyard, yew slush-brained numskull?" Crack! crack! crack! went the belaying-pin on the wretched man's head. Suddenly, in the midst of it all, the wind lulled again, and the bosun, crawling up the sloping deck on hands and knees, gave tongue lustily: "Haul away there, haul away, haul away, haul away!" Once more backs were bent and arms stretched out. Slowly the buntlines came two blocks under the frenzied efforts of the half-dazed men. "Away aloft an' make it fast!" came the command. The stumbling, panting crowd pushed and shoved and tumbled over each other as they struggled to the rail and swarmed over it into the rigging. Headed by the untiring bosun, they raced up the ratlines and scrambled out along the footropes. "Dig your fingers in and on to the yard with her, boys. All together, now, ay-hay an' up she comes!" roared the bosun from the bunt. "Make a skin! make a skin!" he went on sharply. "It's shore none easy," muttered Broncho. "Now you have her! now you have her!" came the bosun's overstrained voice again. "Roll her, boys, roll her!" "She's a-comin'!" gasped some one, and with a last great effort they got the sail on the yard. "I'll sit down on the footrope, whilst you swing the gasket to me," Jack called to the cowpuncher, leaning over and putting his lips close to the other's ear. "I surmise as how a diamond-hitch ain't needful in these heavenly regions," grunted Broncho to himself as he passed the gasket. "Don't haul on it with both hands," suddenly cried the rover from the footrope below him. "Keep fast hold of the jackstay with one hand. Never trust a gasket, or one day you'll take a header to the deck." "You can bet your moccasins I'll be a heap regyardful of what you-alls advises. I'm none anxious to come flutterin' from my perch that-away," observed Broncho, as he took Jack's advice. Hardly was the main course fast before the wind shifted suddenly into the west-south-west, and began to blow harder than ever. The men were trooping off to man the fore and mizzen upper-topsail spilling-lines, and Black Davis and the bosun were at the halliards; but as the wind came astern, the old man thundered out: "Hold all fast there! Weather crojjick brace!"