Though he was very weak they did as he directed them. His appearance tended to restore order.
“Men,” he said, in as loud a voice as he could speak, “your lives depend upon obeying my directions. Battiscombe, you and Willoughby lower a boat, and carry a line ashore with you. Take Stokes and Jumbo with you. The rest of us must remain and try to get the ship afloat.”
They did as he told them. The boat being lowered, they carried a long rope so as to form a communication with the shore, that should the worst come, those who remained on board might have a chance of gaining it. They had got within fifty fathoms, when a roller came in and capsized the boat, and sent them all struggling into the water. Stephen, who was a good swimmer, struck out, calling to Roger and the rest to follow him, and in a few seconds his feet touched the sand. He scrambled out, but on looking round, what was his horror not to discover Roger! He saw Sam Stokes and Jumbo strike out for the land. He gazed for a moment towards where the boat had been capsized, when he saw a head and arms rise amid the surf. Darting forward, he breasted the waves, and soon caught hold of the person he had seen. It was Roger, who, on being hauled on shore, quickly came to himself. Together they managed to rescue the seamen, but the boat was knocked to pieces, and the end of the rope lost. They could now neither return nor help those on board to reach the shore. The wind was increasing, clouds covered the sky, and they lost sight of the vessel in the thick spray and darkness. Roger proposed lighting a fire as a signal to those on board, but no driftwood could be discovered, and the fierce gale would soon have scattered the ashes had they made the attempt. They shouted at the top of their voices.
“It is no use in exhausting your strength,” observed old Sam. “In the teeth of this hurricane our voices cannot travel half the distance to the wreck.”
Finding at length that they could do nothing on the beach, they sought for shelter under the lee of a sandhill, where, being exhausted by their exertions, they soon fell asleep.
Chapter Four.
When they awoke the next morning and looked out, not a vestige of the vessel could they see, but the beach was strewn with the wreck, while here and there lay the dead bodies of their shipmates.
“Sad fate, poor fellows!” said Stephen. “We should be thankful to Heaven for being preserved, to Captain Roberts for sending us on shore; but, alack, what will become of the cargo? It will be a heavy loss to Kempson and Company, and we might try to collect whatever is driven on shore.”