A Sub. of the R.N.R.: A Story of the Great War

by Percy F. Westerman

Men were lying flat upon the brink, waiting to receive the rescued officer. Others, still hauling, but with less speed, awaited the order to belay. The last ten feet of the ascent were the most difficult of all, for here Kenneth's body and maimed limb were in actual contact with the rugged granite. Yet, from where he stood, Terence could see no sign of life in the saturated burden of the breeches-buoy.

Now the rescuers had the object of their attention within arms' reach. Grasped by the muscular hands of the hardy Shetlanders, Kenneth was lifted clear of the jagged edge of the cliff. Willing helpers released him from the buoy, and still without showing signs of movement Raeburn was carried out of his chum's sight.

Leaning against the lee side of the chart-house, for the bridge was now at an alarming angle, Terence quietly reviewed the position. The "Roldal" was breaking up fast. Already the bow portion had vanished, and the 'midship portion seemed in a great hurry to disintegrate itself under the sledge-hammer like blows of the waves.

His first idea was to throw himself into the sea and trust to fate. He might perhaps escape being dashed against the cliff and contrive to seize a bowline lowered from above; but the possibility of getting safely through that turmoil seemed wellnigh hopeless.

The tide was still falling. Every few minutes meant the uncovering of the reef on which the vessel struck, and a compensating diminution of the force of the waves. On the other hand, delay resulted in the increase of the numbness of his body and limbs, which were already feeling the effects of the cold and wet.

Hundreds of eyes were fixed upon him. In addition to the inhabitants of the village and the surrounding district, his own men and the Norwegian crew were standing on the cliffs in apparent helplessness, waiting for the final act of the tragedy.

Presently a hand-cart drawn by half a dozen fishermen appeared upon the scene. It was another life-saving apparatus, for the first had been rendered useless owing to the accident.

With a hiss the light-line fell handsomely across the wreck, the rope almost falling into Terence's hand. To it was attached the hawser, but the lieutenant knew that it was beyond his strength to attach the stout rope to the stump of the mast. Since Raeburn had been hauled through the breaking seas, he argued, why could he not follow his example?

Securing the running rope round his waist, and making sure that no part of the gear was likely to foul any part of the wreckage, Terence made his way down the shelving bridge. The lee side was now only six or seven feet above the water. The whole structure was quivering violently. At the most it could not hold together for many minutes longer.

Using his arms as a semaphore the lieutenant signalled to those on shore that he was ready to be hauled through the surf. A reply to the effect that he was understood came from the "Strongbow's" men. Then, making a leap clear of the bridge, Terence plunged into the sea. Even as he did so, the chart-house and the weather part of the bridge were swept bodily away.