"I-I-I-I g-g-guess I'll g-g-go down, now," said Archie.
Half an hour of exposure in the crow's-nest had chilled the lad to numbness. His blood was running sluggishly; he was shivering; his legs were stiff, and his hands were cold and uncertain in their grip. He climbed out of the cask, and cleverly enough made good his footing on the platform of the nest. It was when he essayed the descent that he erred and faltered.
He had a full, two-handed grip on the topmast backstays, and was secure in searching with his foot for the rope ladder lashed thereto. But when his foot struck, he released his left hand from the stays, without pausing to make sure that his foot was firm-fixed on the rung. His foot missed the rung altogether, and found no place to rest. In a flash, he had rolled over, and hung suspended by one hand, which, numb though it was, had unexpectedly to bear the weight of his whole body.
"Be careful goin' down, b'y," he heard Bill o' Burnt Bay say.
The voice seemed to come out of a great distance. Archie knew, in a dim way, that the attention of the man was fixed elsewhere--doubtless on the herd of harps. Then he fell into a stupefaction of terror. It seemed to him, in his panic, that Bill would never discover his situation; that he must hang there, with his grip loosening, instant by instant--until he fell.
He was speechless, incapable of action, when, by chance, Bill o' Burnt Bay looked down. The sealer quietly reached over the cask and caught him by the collar; then lifted him to the platform, and there held him fast. Each looked silently, tensely, into the other's eyes.
"Yes," gasped the lad, in a hoarse whisper.
There was a long silence, through which the swatcher looked Archie in the eye, holding him tight all the while.
"'Tis not wise t' be in a hurry, sometimes," he observed, at last.
The boy waited until he could view the necessity of descent with composure. Then, with extreme caution, he made his way to the deck, and went to the cabin, where he warmed himself over the stove. Apparently, the incident had passed unnoticed from the deck. He said nothing about it to the captain, nor to any one else; nor did Bill o' Burnt Bay, who had an adequate conception of the sensitiveness of lads in respect to such narrow chances.