Coast Guard crew (including the dog) which rescued every sailor of wrecked vessel's crew.
"Yes, Mr. Swift?"
"I have information, sir," he said, "that there are seven men cut off either in a steamer near the cannery, or in the cannery itself, half a mile below the pier. I am told there is neither food nor water in the building and that it is at the base of a hill from which it may be overwhelmed by an avalanche at any minute. I think, sir, that a party could reach them."
The lieutenant nodded and sought the captain. He returned a few moments later.
"There are high hills between the village and the cannery," he said, "and the road winds along the beach. We have absolutely no means of knowing what the conditions may be. Under the circumstances the captain does not feel justified in ordering a party on what might prove to be their death. But—"
"Yes, sir?"
"He directed me to say that neither would he feel justified in refusing permission to those who desired to attempt a rescue. If there should be volunteers, I have no doubt that you would be given the opportunity to lead the party."
Eric saluted, though in that dim strange dark he could scarcely see his superior's face, and withdrew. In spite of the unknown nature of the ordeal not a man drew back. Eric chose his friend, Homer, two warrant officers, three enlisted men, one local resident for a guide, and the master of the imperilled steamer.
The road was level, the distance only half a mile, but so great was the danger of ash avalanches that every man was roped to the other—all carried lanterns and there were several shovels.
"Hope we don't get buried under this stuff!" Eric whispered to Homer, as they started out.