Hoisting a mere rag of sail, the daring rescuers headed for the open, the boat speeding under the pressure of the howling wind, while Tom Cherry steered her adroitly to meet each threatening comber. At one moment we could see nearly the whole of the boat's bottom boards, as she climbed an immense wall of water; at another, only her long, lean quarters and stern, as she slid down the far side of the safely passed crest.
Once more we manned the rigging, and with eager eyes and apprehensive looks followed the hazardous fortunes of our humane comrades as they turned and ran down before the wind towards the wreck.
From my swaying perch on the main top--for even in this usually sheltered harbour a heavy "gush" caused the Golden Hope to roll sluggishly--I had great difficulty in keeping the boat within the field of my telescope. The men had now stowed sail, and under oars were backing slowly towards the shattered Neptune, the figure of Tom Cherry being clearly distinguishable as he stood, steering oar in hand, keeping the boat's stern to the towering crests.
By this time the after part of the Neptune had completely disappeared, and the waist was fast breaking up under the relentless blows of the resistless breakers; yet through the cloud of spray that dashed over the fo'c'sle I could see the forms of some half a dozen helpless creatures hanging on to the frail protection afforded by the weather rail.
The men in the long-boat were now rowing their hardest to keep to windward of the wreck. They were evidently paying out the beaker by the grass warp in the hope of establishing a communication 'twixt the two craft. It was a life-or-death struggle with the elements--English courage and brawn pitted against the combined action of wind and sea. Which would win?
Suddenly a heavy rain squall came on, bearing down the crested waves with its weight, and obliterating everything within a quarter of a mile of us.
When the squall passed, a groan of dismay burst from our lips. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but a chaos of angry sea and sky. Both the wreck and the gallant long-boat had vanished.
CHAPTER XXIX
Homeward Bound
For the rest of that fateful day the greatest despondency prevailed amongst our crew. The fate of their devoted comrades, whose lives had been thrown away in a useless attempt to save a worthless lot of mutineers, weighed heavily on their minds. Even the thought of the treasure being safe in our possession hardly asserted itself.