CHAPTER V
THE RESCUE
As the practised eye of the admiral had seen, the tiny yacht was toonear the rocks to go about and escape them. She was caught in thetrough of the sea before she had gathered way on the other tack, andflung upon the sunken ledge, broadside on. The mast snapped like apipe-stem. After a few violent shocks she was hurled over on her beamends, lodged securely on the rocks, and began to break up under thebeating of the angry sea. A few moments and she would be beaten topieces. The man was still there, however, the water breaking over him.He seemed to have been hurt, but clung tenaciously to the wreck of theboat until he recovered himself a little, and then rose slowly andstood gazing upon the tossing waters, seething and whirling about thewreck of his boat.
There was, during high winds, a dangerous whirlpool right in front ofthe reefs and extending between them and the smooth waters of theharbor. The water was beating over the rocks and fairly boiling beforehim. A man could not swim through it; could, indeed, scarcely enter itand live--even a boat would find it difficult, if not impossible.Things looked black to the shipwrecked man. He stood in hopelesshesitation, doom reaching for him on either hand. He could neither gonor stay with safety. Yet he apparently made up his mind at last to goand die, if need be, struggling.
"Don't try the whirlpool, boy," said the admiral softly to himself, ashe looked down upon the scene. "You could never make it in this sea.Say a prayer, lad; 'tis all that is left you. By heaven! A noble girl,my own child! And a brave oar, too! Steady, Barry, steady! Don't cometoo near! Your skiff can't live in such a sea. Merciful God! can theydo it?" continued the veteran, as the light skiff shot out from thelee of the Point and, with Barry at the oars and Emily at the helm,cautiously made its way toward the whirlpool.
The instant they got out from the lee of the Point the full force ofthe storm struck them, although they were still within the shelter ofthe harbor. But they struggled through it, for a stronger pair of armsnever pulled oars and more skilful hands than those on that littleskiff never guided a boat. Barry's strokes were as steady and powerfulas if he had been a steam propeller, and not even the admiral himselfcould have steered the boat with greater dexterity than did the girl.
The man on the wrecked cutter saw them when the admiral did. Evidentlyhe was a sailor, too, for he knew exactly what they intended to do.The two on the boat brought the skiff as near the rocks where thewreck of the cutter lay as they dared,--they were almost in thewhirlpool, in fact,--and then Emily, gathering the yoke-lines in herleft hand, with the other signalled him to jump. Nodding his head, heleaped far out over the whirling waves toward the boat. It was hisonly chance.
"A gallant lad, a brave boy!" exclaimed the admiral, as he saw the manspring from the wreck. "I believe they'll save him yet. No, byheavens! he's struck on one of the reefs! Is he gone? He rises! He'sin the whirlpool! He strikes out feebly; the waves go over his head!No, he rises again! They have him! Well done, Emily; well pulled,Barry!"
Taking a desperate chance, the girl, seeing that the man waspractically helpless, for he was swimming feebly and apparentlyscarcely able to keep his head up, boldly sheered the boat into thewhirlpool and then turned her about. The man, retaining hisself-possession, seized the stern with his uninjured hand. Emilyleaned down and caught him by the coat collar, and then Barry pulledhis strongest to escape from the twisting grip of the littlemaelstrom.
The girl boldly sheered the boat into the whirlpool]
Emily steered the boat with one hand and with the other held on to thestranger. It was, of course, impossible to get him into the boat.Presently he fainted and hung a dead weight on her arm. The admiralwatched them, praying fervently for their success. It was a terriblepull for the old sailor and a terrible strain on the young woman.Again and again she thought she would have to release the man draggingastern. Her arm was almost jerked from her body, yet she held on withgrim determination, steering the boat as best she could with hersingle hand.
Barry pulled until the sweat beaded his forehead. His muscles stoodout like whipcords. For a few moments he feared that he could not doit; but he looked at the resolute figure in the stern-sheets, the girlhe loved, and that nerved his arms. Presently--and it seemed hours toboth--he got the boat out of the whirlpool and into the comparativelysmooth water under the lee of the Point. After a few weary strokes thekeel grated upon the shore.
The sailor stepped out, made fast the painter, waded back to where theman lay in the water, lifted him up with the assistance of Emily, andslowly made his way up the hill, carrying him in his arms.
Woven with the Ship: A Novel of 1865 Page 8
