CHAPTER FIVE.
HOW BRUFF SHOWED HE HAD A NOSE.
As Mark reached the great opening in the deck it was to find that the men who had been at work below were all clustered together listening and waiting for instructions from their officers.
"Hush! Don't speak!" cried the first-mate, bending over the opening.
"Are you sure it isn't a cat ?" A low deep moaning sound that was smothered and strange came from below, and the mate gave a stamp with his foot on the deck.
"No mistake, Gregory," said the second-mate.
"Mistake! No.

It's a man or a boy.

He deserves to be left; he does, upon my honour." "Yes, we all deserve more than we get," said the second-mate patiently.
"Here, what do you make of it?
The sound puzzles me, and I don't know where to begin." The mate descended, the second-mate followed, and a big dark fellow with a silver whistle hanging from his neck was about to step down next, but he made way for Mark, who slipped down the steps, to the great dismay of Bruff, who sat on the top looking over the coamings, and whining in a low tone.
Mark found himself upon a lower deck, with a hole in it of similar dimensions to that through which he had passed.

Mr Gregory was lowering himself down upon the cargo, the second-mate followed, and then gave orders for silence.
This stopped the buzzing conversation of the men, who all seemed to be scared, and now the moaning sound came from somewhere--a faint, dismal, despairing "Oh! Oh! Oh!" of some one in sore distress.
"Humph!" ejaculated the mate, "I suppose we must behave like Christians and get him out.

But when I do! Here! Below there: where are you ?" No response; only the continuous moaning.
"Do you hear there?
Answer--where are you ?" shouted the second-mate with his mouth down to an opening in the great packages beneath their feet.
Still no reply but this dismal moaning "Oh!" a piteous appeal in its way, which made Mark shudder.
"I'll try again," said the first-mate.