In the midst of this rejoicing there was a loud crash, and the abandoned Mary Jane’s timbers yielded to the force of the waves. Broken and bruised and buffeted, she keeled over on the sandy reef, and the sullen ocean surged over her again and again, pounding her mercilessly.
CHAPTER IX.
HOME AGAIN—AND AWAY.
Though the crew of the vessel was saved, the surfmen’s work was not yet over. The breeches-buoy had to be disentangled from the broken mast, spars and ropes, and the other apparatus had to be packed on the beach wagon and returned to the station. All this occupied some time. The hands of both sailors and lifesavers were sore and slippery with brine, the ropes were badly snarled, and the wind and waves tore viciously at the tackle. The task was completed at last, however, and then all made their way to a small shanty or refuge adjoining the boathouse. Here the shipwrecked men were provided with dry clothing and with food which they devoured ravenously.
“My stars! that grub looks good to little Willie!” declared one of the sailors, hastily climbing into dry flannels and a suit of overalls. “Thank’ee, cap’n; I’ll take corned beef an’ brown bread an’—an’ a swig o’ the hot coffee that ye have handy. Here’s to ye all, sir, with many thanks and a blessin’ on ye!”
All joined in the toast, and then made an onslaught on the plain but bountiful repast set before them.
One man, the captain of the ill-fated schooner, dejectedly explained between huge mouthfuls that they had been making for Santario, to get provisions for a voyage to Key West. The schooner’s rudder had broken on a reef, and they had drifted for thirty-four hours without food, each man filling “the aching void” with nothing more substantial than water.
While the process of refreshment was going on, two patrols outside were continuing their beat, watching for portions of the ship’s cargo of bales of cotton to be washed ashore. Without regard to the hardships already undergone, these men, taking turns, remained on duty all that stormy day.
Late in the afternoon the wind died down, and at ebb tide the crew of the Mary Jane and the four scouts took leave of their brave friends.
“We’ll never forget this experience as long as we live,” Hugh said as he grasped Keeper Anderson’s hand. “It’s meant a lot to us and has taught us more than we could ever learn from books.”
“Well, well, guess that’s true, son,” replied Anderson. “Perhaps I ought not to have let you boys—but we won’t say anything more about that, since there’s no harm done.”