Charlie to the Rescue | Page 8

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 crushing 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 shore. 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,
rushing 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 shore 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, rushing 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 circumstances 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 passed 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 shore. "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,
assisted by his