What could he do?
All seemed lost; for the headland, and the foaming waves, and the frowning, jagged rocks were full before him. With a bitter feeling of despair, and a pang of anguish for the coming fate of the friends who had given him their trust, and who even now were singing and shouting in their uproarious glee, he stood for a moment paralyzed, looking with white lips at his fate.
Suddenly, and just as all seemed lost, he jerked the helm a-port. The schooner swung half round. The wind took her astern, and drove her forward. Her sails flapped and banged about. Then a current seemed to seize her and carry her on for a score of yards. Suddenly there was a thump, a grinding noise, and another thump dull and heavy.
In an instant all was confusion.
“The rocks! the rocks!” cried all. “She’s struck!”
Then the schooner was once more swept on, and a wave, striking her stern, dashed the tiller out of Bart’s hands, and he fell. Springing up, he seized it again, not knowing how he moved it, or when. At that moment the sails filled again, the schooner bounded forward, and in a few minutes it was beyond the headland, and moving on toward the lower mud flat; and before they knew that they were saved, she drove hard and fast into the mud, with a shock that knocked them all down..
Picking themselves up, they looked around at the shore in bewilderment. Then they looked at Bart.
“What’s all this?” they asked.
“O, nothing,”’ said Bart. “I found we couldn’t do anything, and so I ran her ashore.”
“By Jove!” cried Bruce, “that was a pretty narrow scratch we had of it on those rocks. After this, Bart, I’ll always brag on you. You’ve saved our lives, Bart. I thought we were gone for it. I never saw anything done so splendidly.”