At the break of the poop stood Captain Harris, his legs planted wide apart, very vigorous, very decisive, very profane.
In this hour of peril the poop was very properly invaded by all classes of passengers, in all manner of incongruous apparel, in all stages of fear, rage, grief and hysteria; as we made our way among this motley nightmare throng, I took Ready by the arm.
Meantime, he was leading the way across the quarter-deck under the poop into the long passage with the door of the saloon at the far end.
And the first surprise came very soon, when the explosives (to which he owed his sudden chance of engagement)--dynamite in cases and blasting powder in barrels--taken on board, main hatch battened for sea, cook restored to his functions in the galley, anchor fished and the tug ahead, rounding the South Foreland, and with the sun sinking clear and red down the purple vista of the channel, he went on the poop, on duty, it is true, but with time to take the first freer breath in the busy day of departure.
Paul!" said Sir Nigel gayly, as he stood upon the poop and looked on either side of him, "it is a land which is very well worth fighting for, and it were pity to go to France for what may be had at home.
"You shall fly your pennon upon the fore part, then, and I upon the poop. For foreguard I shall give you your own forty men, with two-score archers.
I left Conseil to stow our trunks conveniently away, and remounted the poop
in order to survey the preparations for departure.
It was necessary to have dry wood to keep the steam up to the adequate pressure, and on that day the poop
, cabins, bunks, and the spare deck were sacrificed.
Two things I had acquired by my accident: an injured knee-cap that went undressed and from which I suffered for weary months, and the name of "Hump," which Wolf Larsen had called me from the poop
. Thereafter, fore and aft, I was known by no other name, until the term became a part of my thought-processes and I identified it with myself, thought of myself as Hump, as though Hump were I and had always been I.
I descended the poop and paced the waist, my mind picturing to myself the coming passage through the Malay Archipelago, down the Indian Ocean, and up the Atlantic.
In a moment he had concealed his damp body in a sleeping suit of the same gray-stripe pattern as the one I was wearing and followed me like my double on the poop. Together we moved right aft, barefooted, silent.
The noise of the water pouring off the sails and spars, flowing over the break of the poop
, had stopped short.