Hard as some of the salvors have worked for their successes, others have worked harder still for their failures. Often and often they have striven strenuously for weeks and months to salve a ship, only to lose her in the end. The luck of the game is indicated by a case which occurred a year or two ago. A vessel went down on the summit of a rock jutting sheer from the seabed. On all sides was water so deep that she had but to slip to be irretrievably lost. The salvors, hurrying to the scene, found her balanced most precariously on a ledge. A glance told them that, before they could make the slightest attempt to salve the ship, they would have to strive their utmost to secure her firmly in position on top of the pinnacle of rock. They routed among their gear for cables and anchors and, making the cables fast to the ship, carried out the anchors in all directions in order to tie her tightly into place. Then they began to work against time, keeping a keen eye on the sky and praying for fine weather, knowing full well that if the weather held fair they would save the ship and that the coming of bad weather would seal her doom. Day after day they toiled like giants, struggling with huge baulks of timber, shoring up decks, strengthening bulkheads, patching breaches in the hull. The weather favoured them. Day after day it remained fine and enabled them to carry on their operations quite unhampered. They had been hard at it for nearly a month before the breeze began to freshen in rather an ominous manner. They were just beginning to anticipate rough weather when the wind luckily died away and they breathed freely once more. They redoubled their efforts, and six weeks of intense toil saw their work completed. The last timber was bolted securely in place and the divers came out of the wreck, announcing that all was ready for pumping out on the morrow. The salvors turned in for the night well pleased with their labours, conscious that the next day would see them proceeding to port with their prize. But the weather, which had been kind to them so long, was destined to cheat them at the very last. That night it began to blow. The seas started to rise and hammer at the ship. She began to stir uneasily and to strain at her cables. The gale increased. Under the continuous chafing, one cable suddenly snapped. The breaking of that cable gave the wreck more freedom to move under the hammer blows of the sea. The waves battered at her incessantly and one cable after another went like threads of cotton until a billow, far mightier than the rest, caught her up and swept her off the pinnacle into the depths. Imagine the feelings of the salvors when day dawned. All their gear was gone, their labours lost when the prize was within their grasp. They steamed slowly round the spot and proceeded to port, hoping for better luck next time. That was the only thing they could do.