A Sailors Lass | Page 2

a sea as this; but
he shall go with me to Fellness. Bob! Bob!" called his father, in the
same breath.
"Aye, aye," came an answering shout from the adjoining cabin.
"Slip into your things as quick as you can; we must be off to Fellness;
there's a ship out there on the bar sands."
"I'm a'most ready, dad; I heard mother call yer, and thought you'd let
me go along," replied Bob.
Before the fisherman put on his sou'-wester he took a black bottle from
a recess, and after taking a hearty draught, he said, "It's lucky we've got
a drop to-night," as he handed it to his wife; and with a parting word to
her not to be afraid, he and Bob stepped out of the boat-house door, to
meet the full fury of the blast, that threatened at first to carry them off
their legs. The three miles' walk to the little fishing village of Fellness
was no easy task such a wild night as this, for although the road was
inland, it was fully exposed to the sea, and between the wilder
outbreaks of the wind and rain they could hear the guns of distress, and
occasionally see a rocket piercing the midnight blackness of the sky,
appealing for help for the drowning men.
At the coastguard station, midway between the Point and the village,
they found the men on the alert, and two volunteered to go with
Coomber and help man the boat. Then the four plodded silently along

the slushy road, for talking was next to impossible in such a gale, and it
needed all the strength and energy they could muster to fight the wind
and rain.
They made their way to the beach as soon as they reached Fellness, and,
as they expected, found most of the men gathered there, watching the
distressed vessel.
"Halloo! here's Coomber from the Point," said one, as the new-comers
pushed their way in among them.
"What are yer standing here for?" shouted Coomber, in some
impatience; "looking won't do her no good."
"We can't do nothing else," said the man; "we've got Rodwell's boat
here--she's the best craft on this coast for such a trip, and we've made
three tries in her, but it's no good; nothing could live in such a sea as
this; we've been beat back every time, and well-nigh swamped."
"Well, mates, I don't say nothing but what yer may have tried; but
suppose now one of yer had got a boy out in that there ship--I've got a
boy in that, or another, if he ain't gone to where there's no more sea,"
said the old fisherman, with a groan; and before he had done speaking,
one or two had moved to where the boat had been dragged on to the
low sandy shore.
"We'll try again," they said, in quiet but determined voices.
"Let the youngsters go," said Coomber, as two or three married men
pressed forward; "them as has got wives ain't no call to go on such a
trip as this. There'll be enough of us; there's me and Bob, and Rook and
White came with us a purpose, and----"
"But how about your wife, Coomber?" interrupted one of the men.
"Oh, never you fear, lads; she'll not grudge me if I save her boy. Now,
lads, look here; seven of us'll be enough, and we've got four."

There were so many volunteers for the three vacant places, that the men
seemed on the point of quarrelling among themselves now for the
privilege of joining in this dangerous errand; but by common consent
Coomber was constituted the leader of the party, and he chose three of
the most stalwart of the single men, and the rest were allowed to run
the boat down through the surf. Then, with a loud cheer from all who
stood on the shore, the seven brave men bent to their oars, and during a
slight lull in the wind, they made a little headway towards the wreck.
But the next minute they were beaten back again, and the boat
well-nigh swamped. Again they pushed off, but again were they driven
back; and five times was this repeated, and thus an hour was lost in the
fruitless endeavour to get away from the shore. At length the fury of the
storm somewhat abated, and they were able to get away, but it was a
long time before they could get near the dangerous bar sands, on which
the vessel had struck, and when they did get there, the ship had
disappeared. There was plenty of wreckage about--broken spars,
fragments of masts and torn sail-cloth.
"We're too late," groaned one of the men, as he peered through the
darkness, trying to descry the hull of the vessel.