“Not a bit, lad, except by sittin’ still an’ obeyin’ orders. Don’t be frightened, for——”
“There’s nothing to scare me now you’re here,” Benny replied with sublime confidence, and the surfman muttered a few words under his breath, the purport of which Benny failed to hear.
From this moment the two in the boat ceased to pay any attention to their comrades either on shore or aboard the lighter; their own situation demanded every thought, and while Sam Hardy would not have admitted as much to his companion, he was seriously concerned regarding the possibility of warding off the threatening danger.
Freighted with water as the life-boat was, she sailed sluggishly before the blast, with not sufficient headway to prevent the waves from breaking over her continuously, and it was necessary her crew should exercise every care to prevent themselves from being washed overboard.
There was no deviation from the course, however; straight toward that frowning cliff the wind and waves forced her, and the surfman knew full well, although he refrained from giving words to the fact, that it was not in the power of man to aid them if they struck the rocks, where the waves would beat them to and fro until life was crushed out.
“We must take to the water, Benny,” Sam Hardy said at length, doing his best to speak in a cheery tone. “It ain’t an overly pleasant idee; but goes ’way ahead of stayin’ aboard till we can’t help ourselves. Can you swim any?”
“A little in smooth water.”
“You’ve got a cork jacket on?”
“Yes, sir, and it kept me up in great shape before, so you needn’t bother about me, for I sha’n’t drown so long as I keep my courage.”
“I ain’t afraid but you’ll contrive to do that last. Now listen: we’re goin’ to take to the water mighty soon; I’ll go over, an’ you’re to follow close behind. Once we’re afloat, keep a firm hold of my shirt collar from behind, an’ see to it your grip is not loosened.”