To the boy’s delight, the life-boat was to be used for the work. He had never been on board of her, and it would indeed have seemed hard had this opportunity been denied him.
Not until the buoyant craft had been pulled out beyond the point did No. 8 realize that in his weather predictions Sam Hardy had made a failure. The wind was blowing freshly from the northeast, the rain was falling, and the waves had risen until the heavy boat was flung about like a cork.
The crew plied their oars in silence; all evidently looked upon the work of securing the lighters in exactly the same light as did Tom Downey—as drudgery,—and there was nothing to animate them. If a vessel with a crew on board had been in distress, each man would have been on the alert and eager, straining every muscle without thought of fatigue, instead of which they were now dispirited.
Not until they were within fifty yards of the lighter which lay nearest the point, could Benny distinguish any object on the rolling waters, and then he began to understand how difficult a task had the crew taken upon themselves.
The huge fabrics, hardly more than scows, were wallowing in the waves, sending up great clouds of spray when the seas broke with a noise like thunder under the square bows or sterns, and the lad, ignorant though he was regarding such work, knew full well that it would be more difficult to board one of the hulks than to clamber over the rail of an ordinary wreck.
The order was given to “cease rowing,” and as the oars were held firmly in the water to prevent the life-boat from being blown at the mercy of the wind, Keeper Downey studied how he might best accomplish the difficult task.
“They are all dragging their anchors,” he said after a brief silence.
“Yes, and would in this shallow water, no matter what weight of metal they had out,” Dick Sawyer grumbled. “If the wreckers are willing to leave their hulks on such a shore as this, without so much as a single man aboard, it would serve them right to lose the whole boiling.”
“We’ve got to board that lighter!” Downey finally exclaimed, giving no heed to Dick’s grumbling. “It won’t be a nice job, boys, but must be done, else those hulks will be driven down upon the steamer. Stand by, 1, 2, 4, and 5,” he added, designating the men by their numbers.
No protest was made, although the life savers knew they were ordered to far more dangerous work than would be theirs if human lives were to be wrested from the waters.