"The question is, How can we get to them?" said my father. "If we try to get our boat around there it means death for all of us. The only means of saving the poor souls, if they are not all gone already, is for us to scale the rock here and make our way to those on board. Then they might be brought here one by one."
"You see'd her break on the rock didn' 'ee, Maaster Trewinion?" said one.
"Yes," replied my father, "she broke close against the long prong."
"Then ef she edn't gone to pieces there may be hope," replied the man; "but who can climb up here?"
"Two will be enough," said my father; "who'll go first?"
"Let me," said I.
"Not yet, Roger," said my father.
Two others immediately volunteered, and started to climb, but the rock was slippery, and there was only one way by which the top could be reached.
They failed in their attempt.
"Tie a rope round my waist, father," I cried. "I've climbed it many times and know the way."