Each instant was fraught with danger for those upon the wreck. Plank by plank the schooner was being torn to pieces by the irresistible force of the towering waves, and it needed not that one should be versed in such matters to understand that before many moments passed one or all of the spars must go by the board.
Now that the sailor on the wreck was hauling in the shot-line, the crew set about making the necessary arrangements for sending aboard the hawser, and before this had been completed Benny shouted, although speaking to no one in particular:
“The men in the mizzen-rigging are coming down! They are going to help themselves!”
It was as the lad had said, for soon all save two on the forecastle were hauling on the tackle which was made fast to the shot-line, and in perhaps ten minutes from the time the last missile was fired across the deck of the wreck, the sailors had succeeded in attaching the tail-block to the mainmast.
Now even Benny could be of assistance in manning the whip to haul the breeches-buoy out to the ship.
As the lad saw the buoy appearing and disappearing amid the waves, but continuing rapidly on toward the wreck, a great joy came into his heart, and he realized then, if never before, the wondrous pleasure which must come to those who succeed in saving lives after a desperate battle.
When the buoy reached the wreck those ashore saw a man step into it, and then came the command:
“Man the lee whip! Haul ashore!”
Now the life savers were working to economize time. Every second must be utilized if that crew of seven was to be brought ashore before the schooner should have been torn to pieces.