Charlie to the Rescue Part 3

At this point the soul of Shank Leather took fire, for he was by no means dest.i.tute of generous impulses, and he tried to get hold of the rope.

"Out o' the way," cried the burly youth, giving Leather a rough push that almost sent him on his back; "we don't want no land-lubbers for this kind o' work."

Up to this point Charlie Brooke, although burning with eager desire to take some active part in the rescue, had restrained himself and held back, believing, with characteristic modesty, that the fishermen knew far better than he did how to face the sea and use their appliances; but when he saw his friend stagger backward, he sprang to the front, caught hold of the line, and, seizing the burly fisherman by the arm, exclaimed, "You'll let _this_ land-lubber try it, anyhow," and sent him spinning away like a capsized nine-pin.

There was a short laugh, as well as a cheer at this; but next moment all were gazing at the sea in breathless anxiety, for Brooke had rushed deep into the surf. He paused one moment, as the great wave curled over him, then went through it head-first with such force that he shot waist-high out of the sea on the other side. His exceptional swimming-powers now served him well, for his otter-like rapidity of action enabled him to avoid the crus.h.i.+ng billows either by diving through them at the right moment, or holding back until they fell, and left him only the mad swirling foam to contend with. This last was bad enough, but here his great muscular strength and his inexhaustible caloric, with his cork-like power of flotation, enabled him to hold his own without exhaustion until another opportunity of piercing an unbroken wave offered. Thus he gradually forced his way through and beyond the worst breakers, which are always those nearest sh.o.r.e. Had any one been close to him, and able calmly to watch his movements, it would have been seen that, great as were the youth's powers, he did not waste them in useless battling with a force against which no man could effectively contend; that, with a cool head, he gave way to every irresistible force, swimming for a moment, as it were, with the current--or, rather, floating easily in the whirlpools--so as to conserve his strength; that, ever and anon, he struck out with all his might, rus.h.i.+ng through foam and wave like a fish, and that, in the midst of it all, he saw and seized the brief moments in which he could take a gasping inhalation.

Those who watched him with breathless anxiety on sh.o.r.e saw little of all this as they paid out the line or perched themselves on tiptoe on the few boulders that here and there strewed the sand.

"Haul him back!" shouted the man who was farthest out on the line.

"He's used up!"

"No, he's not, I know him well!" roared Shank Leather. "Pay out, men-- pay out line!"

"Ay, ease away," said Grinder, in a thunderous growl. "He's a rigler walrus, he is. Niver see'd sich a feller since I left the southern seas. Ease away, boys."

A cheer followed his remark, for at that moment it was seen that our hero had reached the tail of the eddy which was caused by the hull of the wreck, and that one of her crew had darted from the cover of the vessel's bulwarks and taken shelter under the stump of the mainmast.

His object was seen in a moment, for he unhooked a coil of rope from the belaying-pins, and stood ready to heave it to the approaching swimmer.

In making even this preparation the man ran very great risk, for the stump was but a partial shelter--each wave that burst over the side sweeping wildly round it and leaping on the man higher than his waist, so that it was very difficult for him to avoid being torn from his position.

Charlie's progress was now comparatively easy. A few vigorous strokes brought him under the lea of the wreck, which, however, was by no means a quiet spot, for each divided wave, rus.h.i.+ng round bow and stern, met there in a tumult of foam that almost choked the swimmer, while each billow that burst over the wreck poured a small Niagara on his head.

How to get on board in such circ.u.mstances was a subject that had troubled Charlie's mind as he drew near, but the action of the sailor unhooking the coil of rope at once relieved him. The moment he came within reach, the sailor, watching his opportunity between waves, threw out the coil. It was aimed by an accustomed hand and fell on the rescuer's head. Another minute and young Brooke stood on the deck.

Without waiting an instant he leaped under the shelter of the stump of the mainmast beside the seaman. He was only just in time, for a wave burst in thunder on the weather side of the quivering brig, and, pouring over the bulwarks, almost dragged him from the belaying-pins to which he clung.

The instant the strain was off, he pa.s.sed a rope round his waist and gave the end of it to the sailor.

"Here, make it fast," he said, beginning to haul with all his might on the line which he had brought from sh.o.r.e. "You're the skipper--eh?"

"Yes. Don't waste your breath in speech. I know what to do. All's ready."

These few words were an unspeakable relief to our hero, who was well aware that the working of the rocket apparatus required a slight amount of knowledge, and who felt from his manner and tone that the skipper was a thorough man. He glanced upwards as he hauled in the line, a.s.sisted by his companion, and saw that a stout rope with two loops on it had been fixed to the stump of the mast. Just as he noted this with satisfaction a large block with a thin line rove through it emerged from the boiling sea. It had been attached by the men on sh.o.r.e to the rocket line which Charlie had been hauling out with so much energy. Its name was indicated by the skipper.

"Here comes the _whip_," he cried, catching hold of the block when it reached him. "Hold me up, lad, while I make it fast to them loops."

While Charlie obeyed he saw that by fixing the tail-lines of the block quickly to the loops prepared for them, instead of winding them round the mast,--a difficult process in such a sea--much time was saved.

"There, _our_ part o' the job is done now," said the skipper, pulling off his sou'-wester as he spoke and holding it up as a signal to the men on sh.o.r.e.

Meanwhile those to whom he signalled had been watching every movement with intense eagerness, and with the expressions of men whose gaze has to penetrate with difficulty through a haze of blinding spray.

"They've got the block now," cried one man.

"Does that young feller know about fixin' of it?" asked another.

"Clap a stopper on your mugs; they're a-fixin' of it now," said old Grinder. "There's the signal! Haul away, lads!"

We must explain here that the "whip" above mentioned was a double or endless line, pa.s.sing through the block which had been hauled out to the wreck by our hero.

By means of this whip one end of a stout cable was sent off to the wreck, and on this cable a sling-lifebuoy was hung to a pulley and also run out to the wreck. The working of the apparatus, though simple enough to seamen, would entail a complicated, perhaps incomprehensible, description to landsmen: we therefore pa.s.s it by with the remark that, connection with the sh.o.r.e having been established, and the sling-lifebuoy--or life-saving machine--run out, the crew received it with what was meant for a hearty cheer, but which exhaustion modified to a feeble shout.

"Now, lads," cried the skipper to his men, "look sharp! Let out the pa.s.sengers."

"Pa.s.sengers?" exclaimed Charlie Brooke in surprise.

"Ay--my wife an' little gurl, two women and an old gentleman. You don't suppose I'd keep 'em on deck to be washed overboard?"

As he spoke two of the men opened the doors of the companion-hatch, and caught hold of a little girl of about five years of age, who was handed up by a woman.

"Stay! keep her under cover till I get hold of her," cried the skipper.

As he was pa.s.sing from the mast to the companion a heavy sea burst over the bulwarks, and swept him into the scuppers. The same wave wrenched the child from the grasp of the man who held it and carried it right overboard. Like an eel, rather than a man, Charlie cleft the foam close behind her, caught her by the skirt and bore her to the surface, when a few strokes of his free arm brought him close under the lee of the wreck just in time to prevent the agonised father from leaping after his child. There was terrible suspense for a few minutes. At one moment our hero, with his burden held high aloft, was far down in the hollow of the watery turmoil, with the black hull like a great wall rising above him, while the skipper in the main-chains, pale as death but sternly silent held on with his left hand and reached down with his right--every finger rigid and ready! Next moment a water-spout, so to speak, bore the rescuer upward on its crest, but not near enough--they went downward again. Once more the leaping water surged upwards; the skipper's strong hand closed like the grip of death on the dress, and the child was safe while its rescuer sank away from it.

"Help him!" shouted the skipper, as he staggered to the shelter of the companion.

But Charlie required no help. A loose rope hanging over the side caught his eye: he seized it and was on deck again in a few seconds. A minute later and he was down in the cabin.

There, terror-stricken, sat the skipper's wife, never venturing to move, because she had been told to remain there till called. Happily she knew nothing of the incident just described.

Beside her sat the other women, and, near to them, a stern old gentleman, who, with compressed lips, quietly awaited orders.

"Come, quick!" said Charlie, grasping by the arm one of the women.

It was the skipper's wife. She jumped up right willingly and went on deck. There she found her child already in the life-buoy, and was instantly lifted in beside it by her husband, who looked hastily round.

"Come here, d.i.c.k," he said to a little cabin-boy who clung to a stanchion near by. "Get in."

The boy looked surprised, and drew back.

"Get in, I say," repeated the skipper sternly.

"There's more women, sir," said the boy, still holding back.

"True--brave lad! but you're wanted to keep these from getting washed out. I am too heavy, you know."

The boy hesitated no longer. He squeezed himself into the machine beside the woman and child.

Then up at arm's-length went the skipper's sou'-wester as a signal that all was ready, and the fishermen began to haul the life-buoy to the sh.o.r.e.

It was an awful trip! Part of the distance, indeed, the trio were borne along well out of the sea, though the waves leaped hungrily up and sent spray over them, but as they drew near the sh.o.r.e they were dipped again and again into the foam, so that the little cabin boy needed all his energy and knowledge, as well as his bravery and strength, to prevent his charge being washed out. Amid ringing cheers from the fishermen-- and a treble echo from the women behind the wall--they were at last safely landed.

"My la.s.s, that friend o' your'n be a braave cheeld," said an old woman to May Leather, who crouched beside her.

"Ay, _that_ he is!" exclaimed May, with a gush of enthusiasm in tone and eyes that made them all turn to look at her.

"Your brother?" asked a handsome, strapping young woman.

"No--I wish he was!"