Then, with surprising suddenness, the summit of the hitherto deserted cliffs was teeming with people—men, women, and children. The inhabitants of the little village had been waiting by the side of the sheltered firth, fully expecting to see the disabled vessel crawl into safety. But with the news that she had failed to weather the headland they rushed to the cliffs, and, what was more, they brought a rocket apparatus with them.
The first rocket, deflected by the wind, fell fifty feet from the wreck. The second was fired immediately on the deck of the "Roldal." Several of the seaman, at imminent risk of being swept overboard, secured the light line and began to haul away.
In ten minutes a means of communication with the shore was established. Beginning with the prisoners, the shipwrecked party were hauled to land, one by one till only Raeburn and Terence were left, for in spite of Aubyn's representations that the partly disabled officer should be sent early in the course of the operations, Kenneth stoutly refused to budge until all the passengers and crew were saved.
"Now, then, old man," exclaimed Terence. Gently he assisted his chum into the breeches-buoy, and, since the assistant engineer was incapable of raising his right hand and arm, the lieutenant made him additionally secure by lashing a rope round his shoulders and to the slings of the buoy.
"'Fraid I'll get a ducking after all," remarked Kenneth, with mock ruefulness. "Never mind, I'll get my pipe again."
Terence gave the signal. The strain on the hauling rope increased, and Kenneth started on his semi-aerial, semi-submarine journey to the cliffs of Yell.
Anxiously the lieutenant followed his chum's progress. He knew how hard the tail of a wave can hit, and that Kenneth was in serious danger of having his still unhealed arm broken again by even a fairly light blow. White-crested waves were breaking right over the occupant of the breeches-buoy, for he was now nearly half-way to the shore and at the lowermost limit of the sagging rope. At times lifted by the seas, he would be swung into an almost horizontal position. At others he would be suspended in the air, with the water pouring from him like a miniature cascade.
"He's making slow progress," thought Terence. Then he looked at the endless travelling line. It was not running through the block. Something had jammed and the men on the cliff were unable to haul the breeches-buoy another foot.
Frantically Terence signalled for them to slack away. Putting every ounce of strength into his effort he tugged at the line in the hope of freeing it from the jammed block, but without avail.
"He'll be drowned, or he'll die of exposure," thought Terence, as he desperately taxed his powers of resourcefulness to devise some means of extricating his comrade from his dangerous position.