“Look!” shouted Josh, without turning his head; and he pointed with his sound arm out to sea.
Dick, Arthur, and Mr Temple strained their eyes to catch signs of what the fisherman meant as they saw the vessel rising and falling, and seeming to glide slowly on, till all at once, in the midst of the dense rain of spray, the vessel rose, as it were, to make a leap, and then charged down a hill of waters, stopped short, and seemed to shiver. Then her tall main-mast fell forward, apparently snapped off close to the deck, carrying with it the fore-mast; while the mizen, that had been sloping slightly backward, now leaned over toward the shore.
“Fast on the Black Fin,” cried Josh, with his hands to his mouth, and a shiver of horror ran through Dick and his brother as they realised what all this meant.
There was no time lost on the beach now, for in the midst of the crowd the rocket-cart was run down as far as was possible, the tube laid ready, the case with its line placed in position, and then away with a rush, and a stream of dull, almost invisible sparks sped the rocket with its line, whose destination was the far side of the ill-fated ship.
There was a cry from the men who were watching the flight of the line-bearer.
“Short, short!” And as the boys watched with parted lips, and eyes half-blinded with the spray, they saw the line rapidly hauled in and laid ready for another flight.
It took some time, during which those on shore could just make out the crew of the ship clustering about the stern of the vessel and on the mizen-mast.
All was ready at last, and once more a rocket was sent flying with the same result, its flight too short to reach the ship.
“I knowed it—I knowed it!” roared Josh between his hands. “There’s only one way.”
A little crowd collected about Josh, and for a short space there was hurried gesticulation, and old Marion seemed to be declaiming to the men.