The Scouts of Seal Island Page 10

  CHAPTER X

  THE WRECK

  "KEEP close in our wake, Simpson," cautioned Atherton, as the twoboats cleared the end of the stone quay. "Give way, lads; long easystrokes."

  It was an eerie experience to the two boats' crews, rowing in a densemist that seemed to have a most bewildering effect upon all saveAtherton, who, implicitly trusting to the small magnetic needle, knewthat it was a matter of impossibility to miss hitting Seal Islandsomewhere. By having to frequently pull the starboard yoke-lineAtherton realised that without the aid of the compass his boat wouldinevitably have described a wide circle, since the rowers on thatside were pulling a stronger stroke than those on the port side.

  "Rocks ahead!" shouted Everest, who was perched in the bows of the"Otters" boat.

  "Stop pulling: backwater," ordered Atherton, and soon both boats werelying five yards apart and within twice that distance of the lee sideof Seal Island.

  "We've missed the landing, Atherton," announced Simpson.

  "We have," agreed the Leader. "And what is more, I don't know onwhich side of it we are. One part of the cliff is very much likeanother. Look here, Simpson, you take your boat to the right, andI'll steer mine to the left: we cannot be very much out. The firstone that finds the landing must give a hail."

  The boats separated, both skirting the shore in opposite directions.

  "There's some one rowing," exclaimed Everest. "Right ahead."

  "I think it's Simpson's boat," replied Atherton. "It is difficult tolocate sound in a fog."

  Nearer and nearer came the sound, till Atherton knew that he wasmistaken.

  "Boat ahoy!" he bawled.

  There was no reply. Whoever it was scorned to take notice of thehail, and the splash of the oars grew fainter and fainter.

  "Here's the landing," announced Everest. "Why, that boat must haveput off from there."

  "Hope the fellow's honest," muttered Atherton, "or our camp might beransacked. I didn't like his churlish manner in not replying. Shoutto Simpson, Phillips, and let him know we've found the place."

  As soon as the boats were hauled up and properly secured and theirgear removed, the Scouts wended their way up the zig-zag path to thecamp.

  Atherton gave a sigh of relief to find that nothing had beeninterfered with. Speedily the tents were opened, the cooks tackledthe kitchen fire, while foragers were sent to collect fuel and coverit up so that it might be dry for the morning.

  As soon as the belated meal was over and the "camp fire" fairly inswing, Atherton called Simpson aside.

  "What do you say to keeping watch all night?" he asked. "It may be auseless job, but there is something not quite right. I want to findout who the mysterious visitor to the Island is, and what he comeshere for."

  "I'm game," answered the Leader of the "Wolves." "We'll pick onefellow from each patrol and take two hours each; that will carry usthrough till sunrise, and I don't fancy any night prowler will beknocking about after that."

  "Beastly rotten night to keep watch, though," commented the "Otters"Leader. "The mist is turning to rain. Tell those fellows to pile onmore wood, make sure the tent pegs are firm and the guy-ropes easedoff. They had better get into the tents before they get drenched."

  With the rain the wind rose. At first it was content with moaningfitfully, but before nine o'clock it was literally howling, theexplosive fog-signals still maintaining their accompaniment everyfive minutes.

  "What's that noise?" asked Armstrong, in the interval between twostirring choruses.

  The Scouts listened. Above the roar of the wind and the loud tattooof the rain upon the drum-like canvas of the tents came a weirdscreech, like the shriek of a human being in agony.

  "There it is again!" exclaimed Baker. "Perhaps some one has fallenover the cliff."

  "It's too loud for a man's voice," said Simpson.

  "All the same I don't like it," remarked Reggie Scott, in a subduedvoice.

  "Come on, kid, you're not afraid?" asked his Leader encouragingly, ashe patted the Tenderfoot on the back.

  "No, I'm not afraid," replied Scott. "But I wish that horrid noisewould stop. There it goes again."

  "Pick your man, Simpson," said Atherton, in a low voice. "I've spokento Mayne and he's game. Phillips will remain in charge of our tent,and I suppose you will let Neale know that he will be responsible fororder in the 'Wolves'' tent."

  "Think it's any use?" asked the "Wolves'" Leader. "It's raining andblowing great guns, and a boat could hardly get across. We may beisolated here for days."

  "Won't matter so long as the grub holds out," replied Atherton,cheerfully. "We'll stick to our plan. With greatcoats on we shall beall right."

  As soon as the other occupants of the two tents were asleep, the twoLeaders, with Mayne and Coventry major, donned their heavy coats andmade their way down to the landing-place. It was hard work to preventthemselves being forced down the steep path at a break-neck pace, forthe force of the wind behind them was terrific, but lower down theoverhanging rocks afforded excellent protection.

  "Got your flash lamp?" asked Simpson.

  "I should jolly well think I have," answered Atherton. "Have you?"

  "Yes; but, I say, will the tents stand it? It is blowing up there."

  "They would have been down before this, I fancy," remarked Atherton."There's that rummy noise again. What on earth can it be?"

  "We'll find out to-morrow, if it keeps on," said Simpson. "Now,Coventry, you keep first watch: two hours, my fine fellow. We'llsnooze in the hollow of the rocks. If anything suspicious occur,rouse us."

  Sheltering as best he could, Coventry major took up his stand andcommenced his lonesome vigil. He might well have been spared thetask, for, although the Island acted as a kind of natural breakwater,the waves were beating so furiously on the landward side of the baythat it would be a matter of sheer impossibility for one or eventhree men to launch a boat.

  At the end of his "trick" Coventry was relieved by Mayne, and he,too, cooled his heels in watchful inactivity. Atherton followed, andat length came Simpson's turn.

  "Rain's knocking off," he remarked, as he took his chum's post."That's one blessing."

  "It will be daylight in less than an hour and a half. As soon as itis fairly light we will get back to our tents and have a decent sleeptill half-past six," said Atherton. "I've neither seen nor heard asign of anyone. There's only the howling of the wind, the noise ofthe fog-signals, and that peculiar shrieking sound to cheer you up,old man."

  Once or twice to the lad's slightly overstrained nerves, Simpsonimagined he saw something move, but unwilling to rouse his comradeshe kept still long enough to make certain that his sense of sight hadplayed him false. He was tired. Several times he caught himselfdozing: his head would fall forward, only to recover itself with ajarring jerk as he became aware that he was on the point of sleepingat his post.

  Suddenly, at no great distance off, came the heavy report of a gun.

  The noise brought Atherton and his two companions out of theirrough-and-ready shelter, and hardly able to realise what was amissthey rejoined Simpson.

  "It was a gun; a vessel in distress off the back of the Island, Ifancy," said the latter.

  "Back to the camp for all you're worth," exclaimed Atherton. "We mustturn the others out, and see if we can be of use."

  But there was no need to arouse the rest of the two patrols. Thedetonation, sounding much louder on the higher ground than it had inthe hollow where Atherton and his fellow-watchers had beensheltering, had effectually alarmed the Scouts, who, under Phillips'orders, had turned out in greatcoats, ready for action.

  "Bring those ropes," shouted Atherton, striving to make himselfunderstood above the howling of the wind, "and the large pulleys.There it goes again."

  A vivid flash, outlining the crest of Seal Island, was immediatelyfollowed by the report, while simultaneously an answering rocketsoared skywards from the coastguard station at Refuge Point. This wasacknowledged by the lighthouse on Beware Point, and a messagetransmitted to Padstow summoning the lifeboat.

  Bending to the storm the Scouts, bearing their gear, doubled towardsthe seaward side of the Island, in the direction indicated by thedischarge of the gun.

  Dawn was just breaking as they gained the edge of the cliffs. Belowthem, with her bows driven hard against an outlying rock, was asteamer of about eight hundred tons. Her funnel and masts had gone bythe board, her foremast showing a stump of about ten feet above thedeck. Cataracts of white water were pouring over her, while coweringon the fo'c'sle were about twenty men.

  "What can we do?" asked Simpson anxiously. "We can't get a rope onboard, and the cliffs are too steep to climb."

  "Make fast the rope round me, old chap," said Atherton calmly. "I'mgoing to look over the edge to see what it is like down there."

  Thus secured, the Leader of the "Otters" crawled over till he wasable to command a view of the base of the cliffs.

  The outlook was not promising. In the grey dawn the kelp-coveredrocks were barely distinguishable from the water that lashed itselfagainst the bulwarks of Seal Island. Close to the foot of the cliffs,and immediately below the place on which he was lying, Athertondescried a ledge about twenty feet in breadth. Although slippery withspray this flat-topped rock was sufficiently high to be out of reachof the actual waves. From it other lower ledges ran seaward, andbetween two of these the ill-fated steamer had piled herself up onthe rocks.

  "Simpson," said Atherton, hurriedly, "we must get half a dozen of ourfellows down there. There we may be of use. Signal to the ship andtell them to try and send a rope ashore. It is impossible for us toheave a line to them in the face of this gale. Send down half a dozenstaves after us: they may come in useful."

  While Simpson was flag-wagging the message, Atherton, Phi
llips,Green, Mayne, Everest and Baker were lowered down to the ledge, thetwo Tenderfoots of the "Otters" remaining with the "Wolves." Beforethe last Scout was down a man was observed standing in the bows ofthe wrecked craft. Wave after wave broke over him, but secured by alashing he worked desperately in order to form a means ofcommunication with the shore with a coil of rope and a life-buoy.

  "Look out!" cautioned Atherton, as the life-buoy was hove into theraging waters. "We must get hold of that, somehow."

  Jack Phillips, ever resourceful, had already uncoiled about thirtyfeet of thin but strong line, and had bent one end to the centre ofhis staff. Steadied by his companions the Second of the "Otters"stood on the brink of the ledge, his staff held harpoon-wise, readyto make a thrust at the life-buoy, that was momentarily driftingnearer and nearer the shore.

  Up went his arm; the ash pole darted obliquely towards the crest of awave on which the buoy was being swept. He missed the mark by lessthat a foot, and the life-buoy, left by the receding wave, was jammedin an almost vertical position between two jagged rocks.

  "I must wait till the next wave shifts it," he bawled to hiscomrades, for the roar of the wind and waves made ordinaryconversation inaudible.

  With a smother of foam the next breaker hurled itself against thecliff. It was lower than the preceding one and failed to dislodge thelife-buoy from its resting-place.

  "Has it gone?" shouted Atherton.

  "No," replied Phillips, "I wish it would." Then seized by aninspiration, he cast off the line from his staff, tied it round hisbody and called to his chums to lower away. The next moment he was onhis way down to the stranded life-buoy.

  It was a distance of only ten feet, but every inch of that space wasfraught with danger. Not only was there a possibility of a huge wavedashing the young Scout against the rocks with resistless force, butthere were risks of losing his hold on the slippery wall and of thecord that steadied him being unable to withstand the sudden strain.

  Without mishap Phillips came within reach of the object of hisdangerous task. He grasped the life-buoy, and shouted to the Scoutson the ledge to haul away. To his consternation there was no attemptto raise him to safety, while on the other hand a tremendous wave wasbearing down upon him.

  Phillips' first impulse was to let go the buoy and swarm up the ropehand over hand. On second thoughts he realised that it was his lifeagainst the lives of all the crew of the doomed ship, and torelinquish the means of communication at this juncture would becowardly and selfish.

  Planting his heels firmly into a niche in the rocks and setting hisshoulders against the natural wall, Phillips unhesitatingly cast offthe cord round his waist and bent it on to the life-buoy. The wavewas now barely thirty yards off, and to the inexperienced lad itlooked mountainous.

  "Never say die," he muttered between his tightly clenched teeth; butall the same he realised that it was the tightest corner he had yetbeen into in the course of the sixteen years of his life.

  Then a strange thing happened. The huge breaker was preceded byanother of considerable less height. Pounding against the rocks thefirst wave rebounded and met the dangerous one just as it was on thepoint of curling ere it broke. The collision was insufficient to stopthe oncoming wave, but it considerably checked its impetus. It broke;the solid water swirled over the lad's legs till it reached above hisknees, while for the next few seconds he was gasping for breath as heswallowed the salt-laden air.

  The work he had undertaken being accomplished, Phillips hesitated nolonger. Hand over hand he dragged himself, encumbered though he wasby his sodden clothing, towards the ledge, till to his unboundedrelief he felt his wrists grasped by his companions.

  "Where's the buoy?" asked Atherton.

  "Haul away," gasped Phillips, "you'll find it," and too exhausted tosay more he staggered to the base of the main cliff and sat down torecover his breath.

  Foot by foot the saturated rope came home till the "Otters" hauledashore a large block, through which was rove a heavier rope.

  "It's a kind of life-saving line, lads," exclaimed Atherton. "Makefast the pulley as quickly as you can. Wedge these staves betweenthese two rocks. See they don't slip: they'll stand the strain."

  As soon as this was done a message was signalled to the shipannouncing that all was in readiness.

  Without delay those on board began to haul on the endless rope, andthe Scouts saw a man, seated in a life-buoy, leave the strandedvessel.

  The next instant he was buried in a white-crested wave. The strainupon the ropes was terrific, but they stood the test right well, andas the breaker swept ahead the man was found to be still clinging tothe buoy. Thrice ere he was hauled to a place of safety he wasovertaken by the waves, till quite exhausted the first survivor wasassisted to the most sheltered position on the ledge.

  Again and again the buoy made its double journey, and each time itreturned with one of the crew. Ropes were lowered from the summit ofthe cliff, and as the rescued men were hauled up by the "Wolves" theywere escorted to the camp, whither the three Tenderfoots hadpreviously been sent to prepare hot coffee.

  Four men only remained on board. The hull was already showing signsof parting amidships. The tide had fallen considerably, and the taskof hauling the buoy with its living burdens up to the ledgecontinually became harder.

  One of the four, slipping into the buoy, began the hazardous journey.Half the distance was accomplished in safety, when a huge wave sweptover and passed the doomed vessel.

  "Quite exhausted, the first survivor was assisted to the mostsheltered position on the ledge."--_Page_ 114.

  The Scouts felt the strain suddenly relax. When the breaker hadpassed, their worst fears were realised. The life-line had parted,the man in the buoy was at the mercy of the waves, and the retreat ofthe remaining three was cut off: