A loud cheer from near the water's edge, and a quick, bustling movement
among the men; and then down came the storm again, as if it had been
taking breath, and the roar was deafening.
But the boat had reached the ship, of course getting under her lee, and
her daring little crew had climbed on board. For there was the proof--
the life-gear had been attached to the end of the line, and it was being
rapidly dragged from the shore out towards the wreck.
A long, anxious time ensued, during which, while the sea end was being
secured to the wreck, the shore end of the life-cable, was carried high
up to the top of a cluster of rocks that formed the end of the reef, a
flat place thirty feet above the level of the sea.
There were drags at that line, which the men at once knew were given by
the waves, but they were mostly sharp twitches, which meant that the
daring boatmen, headed by Josh, were making it fast high up somewhere in
the vessel's mizen; and at last there was an unmistakable signal which
meant, "Make fast," and the shore end was hauled tight round a mass of
rock.
Then as Dick and his brother stood in the crowd, which had climbed up to
the top of the rock, they saw the block that ran upon the cable set in
motion by a thin line that was alongside the thick rope, and there was a
burst of cheers as the cradle--that basket-like contrivance of the
rocket apparatus--started off, dragged by those upon the rock, to cross
the seething waves, which kept leaping up at it as if to snatch it down.
Then came a signal--a twitch of the line, and with a cheer the men on
the rock hauled the cradle back--cradle indeed, for it seem to contain a
new-born life, saved from inevitable death.
It was the pale, wild face of a woman, speechless with dread and
exposure, that greeted the men on the rocks as they hauled in the
cradle; and in a minute she was lifted out, and almost before the
willing hands had lifted the poor woman down from the rock, the cradle
was speeding back.
It returned quickly with a man half dead, and he, amidst rousing cheers,
was lifted out, and borne to a place where he would find warmth,
welcome, and shelter.
Then four more were dragged ashore over the thundering, roaring waves,
as the cradle was merrily hauled to and fro.
Then came another man, but not a storm-beaten exhausted seaman. It was
the well-known countenance of one of the crew that went out in the boat,
and he was full of activity.
"Back with the cradle!" he shouted, "haul away. The ship won't hold
together long."
The cradle began to run back over the swinging rope, while the man who
had returned said in reply to questions:
"Those were all. The rest of the poor souls had been beaten off, and
these couldn't have lasted many minutes longer. You must look alive."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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