Charlie to the Rescue | Page 7

to manage their own affairs and required
no aid from him.
As the brig was coming straight in they could easily calculate where
she would strike, so that the rocket men could set up their triangle and
arrange their tackle without delay. This was fortunate, for the wreck
was carried shoreward with great rapidity. She struck at last when
within a short distance of the beach, and the faces of those on board
could be distinctly seen, and their cries heard, as both masts snapped
off and were swept over the side, where they tore at the shrouds like
wild creatures, or charged the hulk like battering-rams. Instantly the
billows that had borne the vessel on their crests burst upon her sides,
and spurted high in air over her, falling back on her deck, and sweeping
off everything that was moveable. It could be seen that only three or
four men were on deck, and these kept well under the lee of the

bulwarks near the stern where they were strongest.
"No passengers, I think," said one of the fishermen; "no women,
anyhow."
"Not likely they'd be 'lowed on deck even if there was," growled
Grinder, in his monotone.
"Now, then, out o' the way," cried the leader of the Coast-Guard men,
as he laid a rocket in its place. "Line all clear, Fred?"
"All clear."
Next moment there was a burst of flame, a crash, and a vicious whizz
as the powerful projectile leaped from its stand and sped out to sea, in
grand defiance of the opposing gale, with its light line behind it.
A cheer marked its flight, but a groan told of its descent into the boiling
sea, considerably to the left of the wreck.
"What a pity!" cried Shank Leather, who had come close to his friend
when the rocket-cart arrived.
"No matter," said Brooke, whose compressed lips and flashing eyes
told of deep but suppressed feelings. "There are more rockets."
He was right. While he was speaking, another rocket was placed and
fired. It was well directed, but fell short. Another, and yet another, rose
and fell, but failed to reach its mark, and the remainder of the rockets
refused to go off from some unknown cause--either because they had
been too long in stock or had become damp.
Meantime the brig was tossed farther and farther in, until she stuck
quite fast. Then it became evident that she must soon break up, and her
crew perish. Hasty plans and eager advice were proposed and given.
Then the smart young fisherman suddenly sprang forward, and threw
off his oil-coat and sou'-wester.
"Here! hold on!" he cried, catching up the end of the rocket line, and

fastening it round his waist, while he kicked off his heavy boots.
"You can't do it, Bill," cried some.
"Too far to swim," cried others.
"The seas 'll knock the life out o' ye," said Grinder, "afore you're clear
o' the sand."
Despite these warnings the brave young fellow dashed into the foam,
and plunged straight into the first mighty breaker that towered over his
head. But he was too much excited to act effectively. He failed to time
his plunge well. The wave fell upon him with a roar and crushed him
down. In a few seconds he was dragged ashore almost insensible.
Example, whether good or bad, is infectious. Another strapping young
fellow, stirred to emulation, ran forward, and, seizing the rope, tied it
round his own waist, while they helped poor Bill up the beach and
seated him on a sand-bank.
The second youth was more powerful than the first--and cooler. He
made a better attempt, but only got past the first wave, when his
comrades, seeing that he was exhausted, drew him back. Then a
third--a broad burly youth--came forward.
At this point the soul of Shank Leather took fire, for he was by no
means destitute 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