“Spring! spring!” cried Mr Sedgwick, rushing into the water, the Frau holding the rope with all her might. Oliver followed his example.
The figure on which my eyes were fixed let go its hold, and the next instant was buffeting the waves, which seemed to be carrying him out to sea. Oliver dashed in, we almost being dragged in after him. But we held the rope tightly, leaning back against it; and Oliver grasped the person with his hand, and with desperate energy we hauled them both ashore. Oh, what joy and gratitude I felt when I recognised Walter, as he staggered forward towards us!
“Yes, I am safe, dear sister! And you—” He could say no more, ere he sank on the ground. “Go and help the others,” he said, faintly. “Do not delay. On, Oliver, on!”
Oliver again rushed forward, and caught hold of Potto Jumbo, who at that moment leapt from the vessel, to which he had till then been clinging, into the foaming surf. Oliver grasped him by his woolly hair just as he was being torn away; and directly after, Potto, gaining his feet, rushed up the sand carrying Oliver in his arms. Oliver himself was almost overcome by his exertion. My uncle, in the meantime, had caught hold of Mr Hooker, and placed him in safety, and was now rushing in to help Dick Tarbox. He succeeded in his efforts. Meantime Potto Jumbo, taking the rope off Oliver, fastened it round his own waist. “I go for the others,” he cried out. “You hold dere, Oliver and you young ladies. Don’t let go. Walter, he soon come all right—no fear.” Saying this, Potto rushed into the water, and reaching the wreck, seized hold of Mr Thudicumb, who was still clinging to it. But where was honest Roger Trew? Mr Thudicumb was landed, but greatly exhausted. Just then we saw another figure holding on to the bulwarks forward; but he had before been so completely covered with the foam, that we had not observed him. Mr Sedgwick and Potto made a dash at him together, and though he appeared more dead than alive, they succeeded in dragging him up the beach. Still another person remained onboard. Who could he be? “I see, I see!” cried Potto Jumbo. “I see; I go get him. He my cook-mate. Hurrah! hurrah!” Saying this, Potto Jumbo fastened the end of Mr Sedgwick’s rope to his own, and crying out to the rest to hold it, he darted once more into the sea. Twice the surf bore him back again to the beach; but he persevered, shouting out at the same time, “Come, come—no fear!” The person he was attempting to rescue heard him, and waiting till a sea was approaching, sprang in. The wave carried him towards Potto, who seized him in his powerful grasp; and those who had hold of the rope hauling away, both were dragged up in safety. Yes, there stood Macco, whom we supposed, as Walter had done, had been killed by the savages. There he was, however, there could be no doubt about that. He crawled to Walter’s side, and taking his hand, looked in his face, exclaiming, “Oh, I t’ankful you escape, Massa Walter. Me lub you as one fader, one broder, one eberyt’ing.” The expression of Macco’s countenance showed that his words were true.
Not till now could I run to Walter’s side, and for some minutes I could do nothing else but put my arms round his neck and kiss him again and again.
“We may well thank Heaven that we have escaped,” said Mr Hooker; “but what will become of the vessel I cannot tell.”
“We must try and secure her,” said Mr Thudicumb; “for though she is getting a fearful bumping, if she is thrown on shore we may manage to launch her again some day when we are ready for her.”
The matter, however, was settled in a different way; for another fierce sea rolling towards us, drove her with such violence against the beach, that her sides were completely beaten in, and in a few minutes she became a confused mass of wreck.