On board the life-boat they veer out the cable rapidly; many fathoms run out, but still they seem to get no nearer the wreck, on the contrary, the wreck is getting farther and farther from them. As the life-boatmen made the vessel out in the darkness, they supposed her to be hard and fast on the Sands, and as they neared, and could see how the waves were beating over her, this appeared still more to be the case, but it proves not to be so; the tide is much higher than usual, and the wreck, with two long lengths of chain-cable dragging over her bows, is drifting over the top of the Sands, and with the force of the gale, and in the strength of the tide, drifts faster than the men on board the boat are able to veer out the cable. "Hold on the cable, the wreck is drifting, we must up anchor; to it, my men, hard and fast as you can." This getting in the life-boat cable and anchor is terrible work; the wild seas are literally raging over the boat; it was bad enough when the boat was under weigh, running before the wind, bounding along with the waves in their flight, and thus escaping much of their fury. But now the boat is head to the seas, she meets them as they rush on with all their force, and she wrenches and jerks at the cable with a power that threatens to tear her to pieces. As many men as can lay hold of the cable do so; they cling on to the boat with their legs round the thwarts; they give the hawser a couple of turns round the bollard--a timber head in the fore part of the boat used for towing purposes; a huge wave passes; the boat falls in the trough of the sea; as she falls the strain of the cable lessens; "Haul, and with a will, my men, haul!" they get a fathom or two of cable in; the curling crest of a broken wave falls on board, almost smothering the men, and filling the boat; she droops and staggers under the weight of water; the men in her as they cling to the thwarts are up to their necks, the air-tight compartments in the boat lift her, the valves in the floor open, she empties herself in a few seconds; a huge short wave curls on, she rises to it, buoyant as ever; it catches her under the bows, throws her high in the air, as if it would turn her end-over-end; the men cling to the hawser for a breathless moment; it checks the boat, the wave breaks over the boat in a cloud of spray and foam; the boat drops; the men shake their heads free of the water; again a loud shout from the coxswain; "Haul, haul, your hardest, my men, hand over hand!" they get in a few more feet of the strong rope, and so much nearer to their anchor; and then hold on with straining muscles for another dread struggle with the next huge sea; hardly time for a few quick breaths, and here the sea comes, like a terrible monster, with shaking mane and gnashing teeth; it foams along, gleaming out of the darkness and straightly leaps upon them; and thus amid all the wild turmoil of the raging breakers, with the boat thrown violently here and there in the