It was grim, desperate work. Sometimes the boat would lose ground in spite of the efforts of the rowers, who, with cracking sinews and aching backs, stuck gamely to their task. More than once the stroke had to boat his oar and bale out the water, for, in spite of her weatherly qualities, the cutter was shipping dangerous quantities of spray.
As they approached the lee side of the reef, which afforded very little shelter as the breakers were thundering right over it, Villiers could hardly see the wreck owing to the volume of spindrift.
The Zug was breaking up fast. Already her after-part, unable to withstand the terrific hammering, had broken off and had disappeared in deep water. On her bows, that were momentarily in danger of being smashed to pieces, were five or six of her crew, swept by the waves, and hanging on tenaciously to the heavier fittings. The rest of her crew had disappeared, having been swept overboard on the impact.
For the present Villiers could do nothing but keep the boat's head on to the seas and wait. A hundred feet of coral reef, showing in the trough of every breaker that swept over it, lay between him and the wreck. To attempt to get alongside the Zug would be hopeless. Had there been a ghost of a chance, he would have taken it in his efforts to save life, but there was none. All he could do was to stand by and wait, trusting that some of the luckless Germans might be swept over the reef into the smoother water inside the lagoon. At length one of the Zug's crew took a desperate step and plunged into the sea. Caught by a crested breaker, he was hurled for a full fifty yards before he disappeared from view.
"Watch for him!" shouted Villiers. "He's over the reef."
A few seconds later the man reappeared, feebly striking out. He was in danger of being swept past the cutter before he was seen. To attempt to turn meant the boat being caught broadside on and swamped.
"Back all," ordered Villiers, gripping the tiller to prevent the rudder broaching to as the boat gathered sternway.
The cutter backed almost half-way across the lagoon before Villiers gave the order to "give way". Then, gradually edging towards the swimmer, the boat, ably handled, came within an oar's length of the exhausted man.
A few seconds of breathless suspense, then:
"Got him!" yelled Swaine the bowman.