“Make a flare,” flashed back the Iroquois’ wireless man.
And presently, almost dead to leeward of the Iroquois, the darkness was torn by a flash, and a flaming rocket went streaking up through the night. Other rockets followed. Then a flaring light arose, and through their glasses the men on the bridge of the Iroquois could see the stricken ship, lying in a smother of foam on the outer edge of the breakers. She was too far from shore for the land crew to shoot a line to her, and no small boat could live in such a sea. If the crew of the Capitol City were to be saved, the little cutter alone could save them.
Cautiously the Iroquois was worked in toward the shoals. Then slowly she was turned, the captain gave the word, and one of the anchors was let go. Once more the cutter was heading again into the seas, and now, little by little, her anchor-chain was paid out, while seamen with hand-lines took soundings, calling up to the bridge the depth they found. Fathom after fathom the giant anchor-chain was paid out. Fathom after fathom the Iroquois rode backward toward the seething breakers.
Fascinated, Henry watched the attempt to get within reach of the unfortunate steamer. Gradually the Iroquois drew near to the smother of white water. The sea was shoaling fast and the tide was running out, but the captain kept on in the hope that he could get near enough to shoot a line aboard the Capitol City. His shells, and the shot-line, loosely wound in the faking-box so that it would run out freely, were ready for instant use. All that was necessary was to remove the canvas cover from the little gun on the after rail, insert the charge, and shoot. But the Iroquois never came within shooting distance. Too rapidly the water shoaled, and at last, reluctantly, the commander gave the word and the anchor-chain was held taut. The Iroquois was rolling, head to the sea, at the very edge of the breakers, but she was too far away from the Capitol City to put a shot across her.
“Tell them we’ll float a line down to them, and for them to be on the lookout for it,” the captain ordered the wireless man.
The latter sat down at his key, but a moment later switched off. The Capitol City’s wireless was failing. He shifted to the blinkers, and for the first time Henry had opportunity to see the lights on the yardarm flash and blink. From the Capitol City came answering winks from aloft.
“They’re looking for our line,” the wireless man informed the captain.
A Coast Guard Cutter Standing by a Stranded Ocean Liner
Meantime empty kegs had been prepared. A light line was made fast to one of them, and it was thrown into the sea. Rapidly it floated to leeward, and as fast as the sea carried it shoreward the line was paid out. The searchlight of the Iroquois was broken out and its beam kept on the floating keg. Slowly this bore down on the Capitol City, but it was too far to one side for that ship to get it. The line was hauled in, and again it was floated toward the helpless ship. This time a sailor hurled the keg far to one side of the Iroquois, in the hope that it might now come close enough to the stranded ship to be caught. But again the attempt failed. The ebb tide, with its cross current, carried it farther away from the Capitol City than it had been before.