To lower the boats and man them does not take long on board a man-of-war. Every man knows his place, and the operation proceeds like clock work.
In a few minutes they were flying over the water towards the raft. Very soon they saw it was crowded with people. Some of them raised their hands as they saw the boats draw near.
"Poor souls!" said Dan Daly. "It's shipwrecked they are, an' starvin' too."
"Well, it won't take many minutes to remedy that, Dan."
"Pull hard, lads!" cried Mr. Robson. "Every minute counts in a case like this."
What a sight met the eyes of the blue jackets.
Half of the occupants of the raft were dead men. The survivors seemed to be, many of them, at the point of death. Very few had strength enough to rise even to a sitting position.
"No time for talking, lads," said Lieutenant Robson. "Get them back to the ship at once."
"And the dead, sir?"
"Throw them over. It's all that can be done."