For the last time the buoy was being run out, and more than half the distance had been traversed when suddenly, and without warning, the mizzen-mast went by the board, carrying with it the mainmast.
As the second spar fell, communication between the life savers and this poor fellow for whom they were battling, was broken; but almost while the disaster was taking place Tom Downey had sprung to the gun for the purpose of sending out another shot-line, when a cry of horror went up—a crash was heard even above the howling of the tempest, and the foremast had fallen.
Now it was that Benny witnessed a scene of heroism such as is seldom heard about, although often performed—heroism that is displayed during the winter’s tempests on our rock-bound coasts, in the presence of those who themselves are heroes.
When the last spar fell he who remained upon the wreck was seen to leap from the port-rail beyond the raffle of spars and cordage which dashed to and fro alongside, and Sam Hardy cried with a tone of admiration in his sturdy voice:
“That fellow has got grit, and will fight well for his life! See him strike out!”
The man was swimming bravely in the icy waters, and every member of the crew, who an instant before despaired of being able to save him, now began to hope that through his own exertions the task might be accomplished.
The surf was dashing a hundred feet up the side of the cliff, and the water ’twixt the schooner and the shore so filled with wreckage that it seemed as if the swimmer must be torn to pieces ere he could take a dozen strokes, but yet now and then, as the billows raised him on high, it could be seen that he was holding his own—that he was making headway toward the shore.
It needed no word of command from Tom Downey to send every member of his crew into the foaming waters, and there, with a line stretched from one to the other, the entire seven formed a chain; with Sam Hardy at the outermost end, all buried under each succeeding wave, but yet pressing outward in the hope of being able to clutch the gallant swimmer before he should become exhausted.
Finally it seemed as if the man had gained a foothold on the rocks, for he apparently stood in the water knee-deep one single instant, and then a receding sea, lifting him from his footing, hurled him backward toward the hulk from which he had escaped.
“Give me more rope!” Sam Hardy shouted, and Benny stifled the cry of fear which came to his lips as he saw the gallant surfman swimming out to meet the half-drowned sailor.