In the Eastern Seas

by William Henry Giles Kingston

Passing a piece of the remaining rope round my waist, I begged my uncle and Oliver to hold it, while Tanda paid out the cable, of which but a small part now only remained. I rushed forward as the person was borne onward towards the rock. Stretching out my hand, I caught him as the next sea was about to sweep him up into the bay on one side, where he would have been dashed on the sharp rocks which lined it. I threw myself back, my uncle and Oliver hauling in the rope, when I found I had Roger Trew by the hand.

“I could not do it!” he exclaimed; “but there is another who will succeed, or I am much mistaken. Merlin saw how it would be, I have a notion, from the first; and when I found I must give in or go to the bottom, I just threw him the bight of the rope. He seized it in his mouth, and swam on as well as if he was in smooth water, and I let the sea bring me back again. If Merlin does not succeed, I will have another try at it, though; but I think he will.”

While he was speaking a jerk was given, apparently at the other end of the rope. Directly afterwards we heard Tanda utter an exclamation of dismay.

“It is gone!” cried Mr Sedgwick. “The end is gone!”

“Then I’ll have it!” exclaimed Roger, plunging into the water as the end of the rope glided by at a little distance.

So quick was he that he caught it; and though he was carried to another point of the rock, a few yards from where we were standing, he was able once more to climb up and regain a safe position. With the quickness of a practised seaman he carried it up to a point, where he made the end fast in such a way that it was not likely again to slip.

We now all stood anxiously watching to see what would next occur. We could do no more, unless we found the end of our rope slackening, as a sign that another had been fastened to it. We should then haul away on it. The minutes seemed hours as we stood on the shore anxiously looking out towards the brig. Bits of timber came floating on shore; now a piece of a broken spar; now parts of the bulwarks. We were afraid that ere long the brig would begin to break up. Meantime Frau Ursula had been urging the girls to go back to the house; but they were too deeply interested in what was taking place to listen to her entreaties. They thought not of the pelting rain; they thought not of the driving spray or furious wind. Their hearts were with our friends on board—with Mr Hooker, kind Mr Thudicumb, honest Dick Tarbox, and the faithful Potto Jumbo. Presently we saw a round object floating towards us.

“It is a man’s head!” cried Oliver. “Let me go this time.”

“No, no,” I answered; “I am not at all tired from my other swim, and I will try and help him.”

I was getting ready to plunge in, in spite of Oliver’s entreaties, when, on looking again, a flash of lightning at the moment lighting up the top of the wave, we saw the head of Merlin as he bravely swam towards us. We rushed into the water to help him, lest the send of the sea might have driven him against the rock before he had gained a footing. Instead of shaking himself, as a dog generally does, as soon as he was clear of the water, he stood perfectly still. We then saw that he had got a bottle round his neck.