We put the women into the first, while it still swung at the davits, and Ned Britton, cool as a cucumber, picked a crew to man it. He watched his chance and dropped the longboat neatly on the crest of a high wave, casting loose as the ship rolled heavily in the opposite direction. A little cheer arose from our men as they saw Ned’s boat floating safely, and at once Joe began loading the gig. The two De Jiminez and Uncle Naboth were with this lot; but Joe was not so fortunate as Ned had been. He dropped the boat all right into the gulf between two big waves, but a line got tangled, somehow, and in a jiffy the gig was over and her occupants struggling frantically in the water. The boatswain dropped the third boat quick as a flash, got free from the ship and began picking up the swimmers. Ned also came to the rescue, at the peril of capsizing his own frail craft, and he drew Little Jim aboard as the boy was sinking for the third time. His father was hauled in by a boat hook wielded by the sturdy boatswain, and fortunately Uncle Naboth was spilled so close to the side that he was able to seize a rope and hold fast until rescued. Not a life was lost and the third boat, the cutter, carried its double load easily. There remained to us but one more boat to launch, and I went to my father and said: “Come, sir; there’s nothing to be gained by waiting.” He shook his head. “Get aboard, Sam,” said he, “and take all the men that’s left with you. I’m goin’ to stay here.” “But that is folly!” I cried. “It’s a useless sacrifice, father. You can’t help the poor _Seagull_ by staying.” “It’s my ship—part o’ her, anyhow—an’ I’ll stay by her like she’s always stayed by me,” he returned obstinately. I was in despair and for a moment knew not what to do. Turning half around I found the two big blacks, Nux and Bryonia, standing just behind me. The remaining sailors were already in the boat, looking anxiously towards us. I caught Bry’s eye and there was an inquiring look in it that could not be misunderstood. “Take him, boys!” I exclaimed, and at the word the two promptly caught my father up and bore him kicking and struggling to the boat, where they dumped him on the bottom and then sat upon him. The lines were quickly cast off and we floated squarely upon the brow of a wave. The men at the oars pulled lustily and we increased our distance from the ship with steady strokes. They then lay to, merely trying to keep a balance as we slid down the side of one wave and up the slope of another. I had my eyes fastened on the _Seagull_, and presently a huge mountain of water came sweeping along, caught her full on its crest and rushed with her upon the rocks of the island, now very near to us.