Harrison, clinging on, made the giddy rush through the air. This rush ceased abruptly. The halyards became instantly taut. It was the snap of the whip. His clutch was broken. One hand was torn loose from its hold. The other lingered desperately for a moment, and followed. His body pitched out and down, but in some way he managed to save himself with his legs. He was hanging by them, head downward. A quick effort brought his hands up to the halyards again; but he was a long time regaining his former position, where he hung, a pitiable object.
? ? ? ? 'I'll bet he has no appetite for supper,' I heard Wolf Larsen's voice, which came to me from around the corner of the galley. 'Look at his gills.'
? ? ? ? In truth Harrison was very sick, as a person is seasick; and for a long time clung to his precarious perch without attempting to move. Johansen, however, continued violently to urge him on to the completion of his task.
? ? ? ? 'It is a shame,' I heard Johnson growling in painfully slow and correct English. He was standing by the main rigging, a few feet away from me.
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