Joining his hands high over his head, Harold rose as far as he could from the water, and sank perpendicularly with his feet close together. He succeeded in finding the body, but not in time to seize it, before he was compelled to rise for the want of breath. He came to the surface, panted for a quarter of a minute, then descended a second time, and rose with the body. Robert reached him one of the oars, dragged him to the raft, and then to the shore.
And now what was to be done? Robert knew well that when a person has been under water four minutes and more it is exceedingly difficult to restore life, and that whosoever would render aid must do it quickly. His preparations were few and simple.
Begging Mary and Frank to make a fire as soon as possible, and to heat one of the blankets, he laid the body with the head lowest, to allow the water to run from the mouth and throat, while he hastily unloosed the clothing. Then laying the body with the head highest, as in sleep, he and Harold rubbed the skin with all their might, for the double purpose of removing the moisture and restoring the heat.
This friction was continued for several minutes, when Robert, requesting Harold to keep on, tried another means. He inserted a reed into one of Sam's nostrils, which he pressed tightly around it, and closing also the other nostril and the mouth to prevent the egress of the air, he blew forcibly until he felt the chest rise, when, by a gentle pressure, he expelled the air as in natural respiration.
By this time Mary and Frank had warmed one of the blankets brought from the vessel. This Robert wrapped closely around the body, and while Mary and Frank were engaged in warming still another, Harold greatly increased the effectiveness of his friction by tearing a third blanket into strips, and using the hot pieces as rubbers.
Persisting for an hour in these simple means, the anxious company were at last rewarded by the signs of returning life. Sam's heart began to beat softly, and shortly after he gave a sigh. The boys were nearly exhausted by their protracted efforts, but still they kept on; and it was well they did, for many a person has been lost by neglect after life seemed to have been restored. When the patient was sufficiently recovered to swallow, Robert poured down his throat some warm water and sugar, remarking it was a pity they had brought none of the wines or spirits which were so abundant on shipboard.
"There is some in the box of tobacco," observed Frank. "I saw Sam put a bottle there; and when I asked him what it was, he said it was rum to rub on his weak leg."
Robert and Harold exchanged a significant smile; for though Sam might have intended only what he professed, they knew that he loved rum as well as tobacco. It was fortunate, however, that the spirits were there, for it was the best stimulant they could administer. Sam soon opened his eyes, and began to speak. His first words, after looking around, were, "Bless de Lord! Poor Sam here again!"
Leaving him now to recover slowly, the boys brought each a chair from the raft, and sat down to rest.
"Why, Robert," said Harold, "you seem to know by heart the whole rule for restoring a drowned person."