human
Clean up for'ard, the old man replied.
gpt
Jammed under the fo'c'sle-head, but still breathing. Both his arms are broken, he says, and he doesn't know how many ribs. He's hurt bad.
human
Well, he'll drown there the way she's shipping water through the hawse-pipes. Go for'ard! Chris commanded, taking charge of things as a matter of course.
gpt
Tell him not to worry; that I'm at the wheel. Help him as much as you can, and make him help --he stopped and ran the spokes to starboard as a tremendous billow rose under the stern and yawed the schooner to port--