drift time to bring that blasted berg just where it could do its work."
And poor Ward hadn't a word to say. Spink had plenty. He spoke to the crew below.
"Keep quiet there you," he snapped, without the least sign of a disturbed mind. And up came the chief engineer, M'Pherson, in pyjamas and a blue funk.
"What's happened, captain? Oh, what's gone wrang the noo?" he cried.
"She's hit more than a penn'orth of ice, Mr. M'Pherson," replied the skipper, "and if I were you I'd get my clothes on. Tell me what water she is making, and look sharp. Mr. Ward, see to the boats. Mr. Day, take the steward and a couple of hands and get some stores up on deck."
He was so cool that he inspired unlimited confidence, although it was now obvious to them all that the Swan's very minutes were numbered. It did not require old Mac's report that the water was coming on board like a millstream to show them that. The engineers and firemen came on deck, and Spink addressed them in what he considered suitable and encouraging terms.
