No more than ten minutes had elapsed from the time the surf-boat put out before the last member of the crew was on the cliff, all bruised and beaten more or less, but alive and ready for further duty, even at a time when such a duty seemed impossible. CHAPTER XII. IN THE SURF. A new day was breaking when the life-saving crew were beat back upon the shore by the waves after their heroic but vain struggle in the surf-boat. The wind gave evidence of gaining strength as the sun rose, and steadily the waves increased in violence. Now they were dashing against the steamer with the same force as upon the rocky cliffs, and to those ashore it appeared as if every billow of foaming water passed directly over the stranded vessel. In the minds of the life-saving crew, at least, it was no longer simply a question of the passengers’ discomfort, but whether the steamer could withstand the terrific beating and pounding to which she was subjected. “She must either go to pieces, or be driven nearer inshore,” Joe Cushing said, when the crew halted for a moment upon the cliff after their terrible struggle with the surf, and his mates fully agreed with that conclusion. It was more than probable the captain of the steamer had by this time taken quite as gloomy a view of the situation, for he continued to sound his signals of distress, although, as Sam Hardy said impatiently, “he should have had sufficient sense to know that everything in human power would be done to aid him.” “He may be ignorant of the waters round about here, and have an idea that a tug can get near enough to pass him a hawser,” Dick Sawyer suggested, and Keeper Downey replied: “It will only be necessary for him to look at his chart, which he had better have done yesterday afternoon, in order to learn that no help can be expected from seaward. I am at a loss to know just what is wisest to do, and ask each of you to give his opinion. The tide is now so low that we cannot hope to get the life-boat over the shoals. Perhaps there’s one chance in twenty, by putting out into deep water, we might drop down so near as to take off a few; but certain it is all could not be brought ashore in that manner. The question to be decided is, whether we shall make such an attempt, or put forth all our efforts toward getting a line aboard.” The men gave an opinion according to their station numbers, Sam Hardy speaking first, as a matter of course, and his view of the situation appeared to be that of all the others. “While I’m ready to try what can be done with the life-boat, and will go aboard of her cheerfully, to my mind there are too many chances of failure--which would probably mean death to all concerned--and too few of success to warrant making the attempt. I believe, as Joe Cushing does, that if the steamer isn’t stove by the waves she must be driven nearer ashore, in which case we can get a line out to her. Therefore I vote that we put all our dependence upon what may be done from here.”