The _frenzied_ people were all on shore. Under the calming influence of tobacco, the wrecked crew surveyed the damage. The boat was intact though leaking a little. It was impossible for them to extricate themselves. Even if any of them could swim, an attempt to make the shore would have proved fatal. They relied on us. Their hope was founded on a rock as surely as their craft. _Getting Ready for the Rescue_ It was not long ere some of the sixty odd men, at Mr. Cornwall's direction, on the island had run to the warehouse to get rope. Fortunately being on the scene, he took matters in hand, and as soon as the necessary tackle had been brought, essayed to rescue the endangered crew. The only way that this could be done was to get a line aboard the scow and pull her off. The distance from shore was too great to permit of a rope being thrown, but there was a rock standing well out of the water about half way between, from which it might be possible to hurl a stick; so Cornwall, taking a club in his hand to which was attached a long cord held by the men on shore, started to work his way out to the vantage point through the rock-studded stream, struggling from boulder to boulder, the swirling water gripping and tearing at his legs in an effort to sweep him away. _Fighting the Torrent_ To the tense crowd of men watching it seemed impossible that he could attain his object, but in spite of the great physical strain slowly and surely the figure--now waist deep in the current, now pulling himself up on to a rock, clinging always to the meagre support with a tenacity that the raging torrent could not break--reached its goal. _Getting A Line Aboard the Wreck_ A sense of relief came to those who watched, but not for long. He rested for a moment to recover his breath; then coolly gathering the small rope into a coil he made the first throw. A gasp went up from the crowd on shore. The distance was too great; the stick hit the water fully twenty feet short. Again and again the attempt failed. Sometimes the missile fell so close that the rope could almost be reached but they had no boat-hook aboard. The thrower could not stand up with good footing to do his work, but from a precarious position threw with arms alone. He rested, tired by his exertions. Suddenly he gathered all his strength and at imminent hazard of hurling himself into the river sent the stick with unerring aim over its mark. _We Pulled the Scow Off the Rock_