The Knights of the White Shield Part 38

"It will be morning soon," exclaimed Will. "I fancy I see a whitish streak now in the east."

Charlie was not looking at the sky, but, standing on his longest toe, was trying to get a peep into that mysterious cart dragged from the station. A man now stood on the axle and lighted a lamp on a pole. The lamp was inclosed so that the storm could not harm it. Charlie saw a stout reel in the cart, about which went many turns of a stout rope. Then there was the wreck-gun. There were also shovels and various apparatus.

"Now, boys," shouted Captain Peters, who had charge of the station, "all hands for the P'int!"

That slow-moving, clumsy man that Charlie had seen in the station when he called, was now changed to a very nimble-footed being, and his comrades were as active. Away they went, threatening to leave Charlie and Tony far behind, but the boys grabbed Will by the hand and rapidly as possible pushed on after the enterprising apothecary.

"Getting to be morning," shouted Will. While the shadows were still thick on the beach, over in the east was a grayish, uncertain light. There were occasional discharges of rockets from the vessel in distress.

"O dear!" said the breathless Charlie.

"I can't hold out much longer," thought Tony.

Will, though, pushed stoutly on, and it was manifest that a wreck excited him as much as a fire. The distance to Gull Point from the station was at least a mile and a half. The point itself was a rocky stretch into the sea measuring about six hundred feet in length. Day was creeping over the water; finally, a thin, sullen light, revealing a wild, ghostly tumult of waves. The surf that ordinarily broke near the sh.o.r.e seemed to whiten the water as far as the eye could reach. It was the angriest tumult of foam possible, as if the frothing of millions of enraged creatures of the sea.

"Ah, there she is!" shouted John Fisher, as the cart neared the sh.o.r.e-end of the point.

"_We_ will get her!" screamed Charlie, as he reached the cart. The men laughed.

"It's a three-masted schooner," bawled Captain Peters, "and she's where the life-boat can't reach her, but our wreck-gun will. That craft has keeled over on Deep Rock, near the very P'int itself! Get out the gun!"

The men now took from the cart a small cannon, then a ma.s.s of rope, and then a rope of larger size.

"Take out that life-car, too!" shouted Captain Peters. Charlie watched every thing that was done with an intense curiosity. He sat down on the cannon to rest his short, fat legs.

"Sonny!" shouted John Fisher--the roar of the surf compelled every one to shout--"do you know what we are up to?"

Charlie shook his head.

"Well, that cannon is loaded, and--"

Up sprang Charlie. He did not want a seat like that.

"And the shot has a light but strong line hitched to it. A man will p'int the gun so that when the shot goes out it will fall over the vessel, and carry the line with it. Now watch him."

Charlie watched. "Bang!" went the gun. Away went the shot, the long rope wriggling after it.

"Good!" cried John.

"What is good?" bawled Charlie.

"A good shot! The man sent the shot so that the rope has fallen across the vessel, I think."

Others thought so, too, and a man quickly shouted, "They're pulling on it!

Hurrah!"

Then they all cheered. The crew on board the wreck were steadily drawing the rope through the water. Charlie looked intently with both eyes, and he wished that his ears also could be eyes for a little while.

"Come here!" shouted John to Charlie, and he led the boy around to a coil of rope, one end of which was attached to the line going through the water.

"See there, Bub! There is a block, what they call a single pulley-block, and this stouter rope is doubled through it. It will soon go to the wreck."

Another explanation was then bawled at Charlie, who now wished his eyes were ears, so anxious was he to hear.

"Look at that block, and then there is what they call a tally-board, and it has some printed directions on it, telling the men on the wreck just what to do. Only _watch_!" he shouted.

The stouter rope had now started on its journey through the waters, and was taken on board the wreck.

"There," said John, "you noticed the rope was doubled through that block?"

Charlie nodded a.s.sent.

"That gives us what we call an endless line--_line_. O, those noisy waves!

The line runs through the block, I told you, which must have got to the wreck by this time. Here, you see, one end is made fast. At the wreck the tally-board told them just where to hitch it. Now watch! They are hitching on to the line a bigger one yet, and that will be hauled out to the schooner, and fastened _above_ the other line. A second tally-board tells them what to do."

Here John stopped to lay in a fresh stock of breath. Charlie saw that two of the men on sh.o.r.e had been rigging tackles to long supports planted firmly in the sand.

"Those tackles," resumed John, "help us straighten that second line till it is above the breakers, and--now watch 'em--here comes the life-car, a sort of box, you see, that we suspend from the upper rope, and at the same time it is. .h.i.tched to the lower or endless line. Now all we have got to do is to pull on that endless line, and the life-car, sliding along the upper rope, will spin right out to the vessel, and--here she goes!"

The life-car was moving along the upper line bound for the wreck. One or two halts occurred on the way, but the venture was ultimately successful, and Charlie saw the life-car as the crew of the wreck eagerly seized it.

"She's coming back!" he cried.

Captain Peters shouted, "Here she comes, my hearties! Pull away on the whip!"

This was a t.i.tle for the endless line.

"Suthin' in that life-car!" sang out one of the men.

"Not so very much, I guess," said another. "She runs sort of light."

How the breakers tried to reach the car! Several times the sea threw itself spitefully, violently upward. One breaker seemed to make a spring for the car, wetting it with a cloud of spray.

"A real vixen, aint it?" said John. "It can't harm any thing. But who is that in the car? A small cargo."

It was not a large one certainly. One man doubted if any thing were there.

Nearer and nearer came the car, riding safely over that white, yeasty sea.

It was pulled across the surf, and the outermost man laid his hands on it and pushed it. At the same time a little door in the top slid back, and a boy's head rose higher and higher in the car, and as it stopped he was helped to get out. He seemed to be in a heap, and his movements were stiff, for his legs were cramped by the cold.

"There!" he screamed, "it's the last time I ever want to go on that pesky old sea."

"Wort Wentworth!" shouted Tony, springing forward to meet this returned knight.

"Hullo, Tony! Hullo, Charlie!"

"This _you_?" asked Charlie.