"That isn't a row-boat! It is bigger, and of a different shape. It's a sail-boat, and on its side, and the men are sitting on the edge of the hull.' They're wrecked! I wonder why their boat doesn't go over entirely? Oh, I see!—the mast and sail are lying on the water, and keeping it on its edge. Oh, if I were a good sailor! See the poor fellows signalling to me! I suppose they're wild with excitement and fear, although they can't be more so than I."
In the next few moments Bruce steered very carefully; he also did some earnest thinking. How should he stop his own boat entirely when he came abreast of the wreck? He knew of no way but that of letting down the jib, which had not worked very successfully when already tried, for the mast and hull had caught the wind with alarming success. Should he shout to the men, explain his ignorance, and ask what he should do? If one of the men would swim out to him when he neared them, and take charge of his boat, Bruce did not doubt that all would go well; so he assured himself that no false pride should prevent him confessing that he knew nothing about sailing, should he fail to lay his craft alongside of the wreck.
Meanwhile his boat kept exactly the proper course. The shipwrecked men began to shout, but the wind was against them, so Bruce could not distinguish a word. He hoped that they were hailing him as their deliverer; he also hoped that they would be able to deliver him from the worst trouble in which he had ever found himself. The shouting continued, but Bruce was now too near to pay attention to anything but the tiller, which had seemed to become a thing of life and intelligence. When he got within about a hundred feet of the wreck he heard:
"Isn't it time to drop your jib? And throw us a line, if you please."
Bruce quickly let go the jib-halyard, but in his excitement he forgot to ease the sheet, so the sail declined to fall; the wind kept it in place. A few seconds later the young amateur was thrown from his feet by the shock of his boat striking and breaking the mast of the capsized boat. The force of the collision tumbled the three shipwrecked men into the water; but they quickly scrambled out, and one of them shouted,
"Hurrah! Now throw us a line, before we drift apart."
Bruce responded by tossing a coil of the main-sheet, and begging the man who caught it to keep tight hold of it.
"Count upon us for that, young man," was the reply. "We know our last chance when we see it, and we aren't going to let go of it."
In a moment the line was made fast to a cleat just under the rail of the wrecked boat, while Bruce said,
"I'm very sorry that I broke your mast, but my jib wouldn't come down."