Part 24 (2/2)
”Hallo, Glynn!” shouted the captain, as he opened the companion-hatch, ”come on deck, quick! bring her with you!”
Glynn hurried up and placed the child in her father's arms.
The scene that presented itself to him on gaining the deck was indeed appalling. The first grey streak of dawn faintly lighted up the sky, just affording sufficient light to exhibit the complete wreck of everything on deck, and the black froth-capped tumult of the surrounding billows. The rocks on which they had struck could not be discerned in the gloom, but the white breakers ahead showed too clearly where they were. The three masts had gone over the side one after another, leaving only the stumps of each standing. Everything above board--boats, binnacle, and part of the bulwarks--had been washed away. The crew were clinging to the belaying-pins and to such parts of the wreck as seemed likely to hold together longest. It seemed to poor Ailie, as she clung to her father's neck that she had been transported to some far-distant and dreadful scene, for scarcely a single familiar object remained by which her ocean home, the _Red Eric_, could be recognised.
But Ailie had neither desire nor opportunity to remark on this tremendous change. Every successive billow raised the doomed vessel, and let her fall with heavy violence on the rocks. Her stout frame trembled under each shock, as if she were endued with life, and shrank affrighted from her impending fate; and it was as much as the captain could do to maintain his hold of the weather-bulwarks and of Ailie at the same time. Indeed, he could not have done it at all had not Glynn stood by and a.s.sisted him to the best of his ability.
”It won't last long, lad,” said the captain, as a larger wave than usual lifted the shattered hull and dashed it down on the rocks, was.h.i.+ng the deck from stern to stem, and for a few seconds burying the whole crew under water. ”May the Almighty have mercy on us; no s.h.i.+p can stand this long.”
”Perhaps the tide is falling,” suggested Glynn, in an encouraging voice, ”and I think I see something like a sh.o.r.e ahead. It will be daylight in half-an-hour or less.”
The captain shook his head. ”There's little or no tide here to rise or fall, I fear. Before half-an-hour we shall--”
He did not finish the sentence, but looking at Ailie with a gaze of agony, he pressed her more closely to his breast.
”I think we shall be saved,” whispered the child, twining her arms more closely round her father's neck, and laying her wet cheek against his.
Just then Tim Rokens crept aft, and said that he saw a low sandy island ahead, and a rocky point jutting out from it close to the bows of the s.h.i.+p. He suggested that a rope might be got ash.o.r.e when it became a little lighter.
Phil Briant came aft to make the same suggestion, not knowing that Rokens had preceded him. In fact, the men had been consulting as to the possibility of accomplis.h.i.+ng this object, but when they looked at the fearful breakers that boiled in white foam between the s.h.i.+p's bow and the rocky point, their hearts failed them, and no one was found to volunteer for the dangerous service.
”Is any one inclined to try it?” inquired the captain. ”There's niver a wan of us but 'ud try it, cap'en, _if you gives the order_,” answered Briant.
The captain hesitated. He felt disinclined to order any man to expose himself to such imminent danger; yet the safety of the whole crew might depend on a rope being connected with the sh.o.r.e. Before he could make up his mind, Glynn, who saw what was pa.s.sing in his mind, exclaimed--”I'll do it, captain;” and instantly quitting his position, hurried forward as fast as circ.u.mstances would permit.
The task which Glynn had undertaken to perform turned out to be more dangerous and difficult than at first he had antic.i.p.ated. When he stood at the lee bow, fastening a small cord round his waist, and looking at the turmoil of water into which he was about to plunge, his heart well-nigh failed him, and he felt a sensation of regret that he had undertaken what seemed now an impossibility. He did not wonder that the men had one and all shrunk from the attempt. But he had made up his mind to do it. Moreover, he had _said_ he would do it, and feeling that he imperilled his life in a good cause, he set his face as a flint to the accomplishment of his purpose.
Well was it for Glynn Proctor that day that in early boyhood he had learned to swim, and had become so expert in the water as to be able to beat all his young companions!
He noticed, on looking narrowly at the foaming surge through which he must pa.s.s in order to gain the rocky point, that many of the submerged rocks showed their tops above the flood, like black spots, when each wave retired. To escape these seemed impossible--to strike one of them he knew would be almost certain death.
”Don't try it, boy,” said several of the men, as they saw Glynn hesitate when about to spring, and turn an anxious gaze in all directions; ”it's into death ye'll jump, if ye do.”
Glynn did not reply; indeed, he did not hear the remark, for at that moment his whole attention was riveted on a ledge of submerged rock, which ever and anon showed itself, like the edge of a knife, extending between the s.h.i.+p and the point. Along the edge of this the retiring waves broke in such a manner as to form what appeared to be dead water-tossed, indeed, and foam-clad, but not apparently in progressive motion. Glynn made up his mind in an instant, and just as the first mate came forward with an order from the captain that he was on no account to make the rash attempt, he sprang with his utmost force off the s.h.i.+p's side and sank in the raging sea.
Words cannot describe the intense feeling of suspense with which the men on the lee bow gazed at the n.o.ble-hearted boy as he rose and buffeted with the angry billows. Every man held his breath, and those who had charge of the line stood nervously ready to haul him back at a moment's notice.
On first rising to the surface he beat the waves as if bewildered, and while some of the men cried, ”He's struck a rock,” others shouted to haul him in; but in another second he got his eyes cleared of spray, and seeing the s.h.i.+p's hull towering above his head, he turned his back on it and made for the sh.o.r.e. At first he went rapidly through the surge, for his arm was strong and his young heart was brave; but a receding wave caught him and hurled him some distance out of his course--tossing him over and over as if he had been a cork. Again he recovered himself, and gaining the water beside the ledge, he made several powerful and rapid strokes, which carried him within a few yards of the point.
”He's safe,” said Rokens eagerly.
”No; he's missed it!” cried the second mate, who, with Gurney and d.i.c.k Barnes, payed out the rope.
Glynn had indeed almost caught hold of the farthest-out ledge of the point when he was drawn back into the surge, and this time dashed against a rock and partially stunned. The men had already begun to haul in on the rope when he recovered, and making a last effort, gained the rocks, up which he clambered slowly. When beyond the reach of the waves he fell down as if he had fainted.
This, however, was not the case; he was merely exhausted, as well as confused, by the blows he had received on the rocks, and lay for a few seconds quite still in order to recover strength, during which period of inaction he thanked G.o.d earnestly for his deliverance, and prayed fervently that he might be made the means of saving his companions in danger.
After a minute or two he rose, unfastened the line from his waist, and began to haul it ash.o.r.e. To the other end of the small line the men in the s.h.i.+p attached a thick cable, the end of which was soon pulled up, and made fast to a large rock.
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