The Lifeboat | Page 9

border region
between land and water, and in which dwelt those rats which have been
described as being frolicsome and numerous.

"Hold hard!" roared Bluenose, as he tripped over the shank of an
anchor, "why don't you set up a lighthouse, or a beacon o' some sort on
these here shoals?"
"Starboard, old boy, starboard hard, steady!" cried Bax.
With seaman-like promptitude the Captain obeyed, and thus escaped
tumbling off the end of the wharf at which they had arrived.
"Nancy, a-hoy!" cried Bax in a subdued shout.
A juvenile "Ay, ay, sir!" instantly came back in reply from the dark
obscurity that overhung the river. The sound of oars followed.
"Smart little fellow that nephew of yours; he'll do you credit some day,"
said Bax, turning towards Bluenose, who, although close at his side,
was scarcely visible, so dark was the night.
The Captain's rejoinder was cut short by the boy in question sending
the bow of the boat crash against the wharf, an exploit which had the
effect of pitching him heels over head into the bottom of it.
"Why didn't you give us a hail, uncle?" remonstrated the boy, as he rose
and rubbed his elbows.
"Good practice, my lad, it's good practice," replied Bluenose, chuckling,
as he stepped in.
A few seconds sufficed to take them alongside of the "Nancy," in two
narrow berths of which the Captain and Guy were quickly stowed away
and sound asleep, while Bax paced the deck slowly overhead, having
relieved the watch and sent him below.
Just half an hour or so before dawn--that mysterious, unreal and solemn
period of the night or morning--Captain Bluenose came on deck minus
his coat and shoes, in order to have a look at "how things were getting
on,"--as if the general operations of nature had been committed to his
charge, and he were afraid lest the sun should not be able to rise

without his assistance.
"Light air, west-sou'-west," muttered the Captain as he stepped on deck,
cast a glance up at the vane on the mast-head, and then swept his eye
round the (imaginary) horizon.
There was not much to be seen, except the numerous lights of the
shipping, and the myriad lamps of the great city, whose mighty hum of
life had not yet begun to awaken. It was the deadest hour of night (if we
may use the expression), although advanced towards morning. The
latest of late sitters-up had gone to bed and got to sleep, and the earliest
of early risers had not yet been aroused. None save night-workers and
night-watchers were astir, and these did not disturb in any appreciable
degree the deep quiet of the hour.
While Bax and his friend were conversing in subdued tones near the
binnacle, they were startled by a piercing shriek, followed by a heavy
plunge in the water, which, from the sound, appeared to be not far
distant. They sprang to the bow, which was pointing down the river,--
the flood-tide was running strong up at the time. On reaching it they
heard a gurgling cry, not twenty yards ahead of the vessel.
"Hold on!" cried Bax to Bluenose, sharply, at the same time fastening
the end of a rope round his waist with the speed of thought, and
plunging over the side head-foremost. The cry and the plunge brought
Guy Foster on deck instantly. He found the Captain holding on with all
his might to the end of the rope, on which there seemed to be a
tremendous strain.
"Take a turn round that belayin' pin," gasped the Captain.
Guy obeyed, and the moment his companion was relieved, he shouted,
"All hands a-hoy!"
It was unnecessary. The four men who formed the crew of the "Nancy"
were already springing up the fore-hatch. There was bustle among the
shipping too. Lights danced about, the sound of oars was heard in
various directions, and sharp eager shouts, as of men who felt that life

was in danger, but knew not where to hasten in order to afford aid.
"Haul now, lads, with a will," cried the Captain; "so, steady, avast
heaving. Ah! that's a smart lad."
While the men were hauling on the rope, little Tommy had bounded
over the side into the boat, which he quickly brought close to the rope,
and, seizing it, guided his craft to the end to which Bax was fastened.
He found him buffeting the strong current stoutly, and supporting a
head on his shoulder in such a way that the mouth should not get below
water.
"All right, Tommy," said Bax, quietly. "Don't get excited, my lad; lend
a hand to raise her a bit out o' the water. Now, can you hold her there
for one moment?"
"Yes, if you just give me the end of that