The "Pilgrim" remained a half cable's length from the wreck, and the
boat would soon reach her.
A girt-line was let down from the main-yard, and each of the blacks
drawn up separately reposed at last on the "Pilgrim's" deck.
The dog had accompanied them.
"The unhappy creatures!" cried Mrs. Weldon, on perceiving those poor
men, who were only inert bodies.
"They are alive, Mrs. Weldon. We shall save them. Yes, we shall save
them," cried Dick Sand.
"What has happened to them?" demanded Cousin Benedict.
"Wait till they can speak," replied Captain Hull, "and they will tell
us their history. But first of all, let us make them drink a little
water, in which we shall mix a few drops of rum." Then, turning round:
"Negoro!" he called.
At that name the dog stood up as if it knew the sound, its hair
bristling, its mouth open.
Meanwhile, the cook did not appear.
"Negoro!" repeated Captain Hull.
The dog again gave signs of extreme fury.
Negoro left the kitchen.
Hardly had he shown himself on the deck, than the dog sprang on him and
wanted to jump at his throat.
With a blow from the poker with which he was armed, the cook drove away
the animal, which some of the sailors succeeded in holding.
"Do you know this dog?" Captain Hull asked the master cook.
"I?" replied Negoro.
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