"Now, men, bestir yourselves," said the bos'n, turning towards us. "Bear a hand with that spar, and with the help of Providence we'll save our skins yet."
The prospect of safety lashed the worn-out crew to action. By their combined efforts a fore-t'gallant spar was dragged to the spot where the broken bowsprit formed a secure support. With a hoarse "Yo ho!" the spar was thrust forward, and just as its weight was on the point of overbalancing the weight of the seamen on the inboard part, the extremity touched the edge of the rocks. With another effort it was thrust securely on to the ledge, and the bos'n, with a line round his waist, crawled carefully ashore.
The rope served as a guideline to the rest, and without further mishap the twenty-two survivors of the Gannet made the perilous passage, though after three years' knocking about on the high seas it was a sorry homecoming.
The inhuman spectators of our plight had vanished, and not a single being was to be seen. In our wretched and half-starved condition we were nearly exhausted; in fact, many of the seamen dropped on the ground from sheer want of strength.
The bos'n, who was the life and soul of the survivors, then picked out the more active men to explore the locality. The old seaman who had recognized the coast said that two villages were within easy distance--Worth Matravers and Swanage--though a lofty barren line of rugged hills separated us from both of them.
By this time I had recovered sufficiently to look around. We were on a flat ledge some fifty yards in length and about ten broad, thirty feet from the water, and close on a hundred from the top of the cliffs that towered above us. Running back into the cliff were two or three small caves, but there was nothing in them save a few broken barrels and a coil of rope. The ledge itself, though level, was encumbered by numerous massive boulders that had at one time fallen from the beetling cliffs, while to the left ran a path which undoubtedly led to the top of the dizzy heights above us.
All the while the spray dashed over us, while swiftly the irresistible breakers were grinding to pieces the wreck of the ill-fated Gannet.
But there was no time for mournful reveries on the untimely end of our noble craft and her gallant captain, for already the exploring party had returned with the news that the cliff path had been found, and that a village was not far distant.
The sorry remnant moved forward, those whose strength failed them supported by the arms of their stronger companions.
The path was steep and rugged. After having been so long on board, and being weak in body through the hardships I had undergone, I felt weary and ill before half the ascent was completed; so, while my shipmates proceeded, I was obliged to sit down to recover my breath.