Jill sat up, crying. Mary lay still, quite stunned for the moment. Tom sat up, furiously angry with the wave! It had bumped and battered him most spitefully, he thought.
As for Andy, he was under water, still clinging to the rope—but as soon as he struggled to his feet he gave a gurgling shout and tried to clear his throat of the salt water there.
"The ship! Look! She's off and floating!"
They all looked—and there was the little fishing-boat, safely off the rocks, bobbing about on the sea that swirled high over the other rocks.
"Come in and help me, quick, before any other big "waves ceme!" yelled Andy. "We can get her into shore now. Quick, Tom!"
The three battered children, dripping wet, ran bravely into the sea again". They caught hold of the rope and pulled hard. "Heave-ho, heave-ho, heave-ho!" chanted Andy, as they all pulled hard.
And the boat came bobbing in to the shore! The children dragged the rope up the beach and the boat followed, scraping its bottom at last on the sand.
"We've got her!" shouted Andy, doing a kind of war-dance on his tired legs. "We've got her! Now we'll just see what we can do!"