It was a boat of which I had caught sight—a boat bottom upwards. A minute afterwards it swept close past us, so near that we could almost touch it.
'They've lost their boat. Pull away, Jem!'
'Oh, grandfather!' I said,—and the wind was so high, I could only make him hear by shouting,—'grandfather, do you think the boat was full?'
'No,' he said. 'I think they've tried to put her off, and she's been swept away. Keep up, Jem!' For Jem Millar, who was not a strong man, seemed ready to give in.
We were now considerably more than half-way between the boat and the ship. It seemed as if those on board had caught sight of us, for another rocket went up. They had evidently kept one back, as a last hope, in case any one should pass by.
As we drew nearer, we could see that it was a large ship, and we could distinguish many forms moving about on deck.
'Poor fellows! poor fellows!' said my grandfather. 'Pull away, Jem!'
Nearer and nearer we came to the ship, till at length we could see her quite distinctly. She had struck on Ainslie Crag, and her stern was under water, and the waves were beating wildly on her deck. We could see men clinging to the rigging which remained, and holding on to the broken masts of the ship.
I shall never forget that sight to my dying day! My grandfather and Jem Millar saw it, and they pulled on desperately.
And now we were so near to the vessel that had it not been for the storm which was raging, we could have spoken to those on board. Again and again we tried to come alongside the shattered ship, but were swept away by the rush of the strong, resistless waves.