A line of rocks rising a few feet out of the water were alone visible at the distance of eighty or a hundred fathoms from the ship.
The long-boat, on which their hopes of safety depended, had been carried away when the ship parted, and was nowhere to be seen. By the increasing light, however, some people were observed on the rock. Those on the wreck waved to them. The signal was returned. Some of their shipmates had thus reached a place of comparative safety. As daylight increased the wind considerably lessened, but still the heavy surges continued beating against the wreck.
“Come, lads,” cried the boatswain, “we will finish the raft, and get away from this before the old ship goes to pieces completely.”
A second invitation was not required, and all hands set to work with a will. It was soon finished and launched, but how to guide it to the rocks was a difficult question.
“Before we shove off we must try and get some provisions and water,” said Owen, more thoughtful than his companions.
“You are right, youngster,” answered Mr Fidd. A cask of water which had washed up was fortunately secured, as was a tub of butter, a barrel of salt beef, and another of flour, and some cases containing cheese, dried fruit, and biscuits.
Here was sufficient food to support the crew for a few days, should they reach the rocks in safety. There seethed, however, a greet likelihood of their not doing that, as the raft must inevitably be turned over by the surf as it reached the rocks, and dashed against them.
“We must find a warp, lads, and then we will do it,” cried the boatswain.
A search was made, and a rope of sufficient length and strength was discovered. One end was secured to the firmest part of the wreck, the rest of the coil being thrown on the raft.
“Now, lads, steady,” cried the boatswain; “let each man take his place—four to the paddles, and the rest to stand by the warp to pay it out as I direct.”