The Moving Picture Boys on the Coast Part 28

"It'll have to come pretty well in sh.o.r.e, or the breeches buoy rope won't reach," said Mr. Hadley. "I guess we can get some good pictures."

"It's good it doesn't rain," went on the theatrical man; "though I think it's going to, soon. We'll have to get up on some elevation to avoid the spray."

Down the beach they made their way, to be joined presently by the band of st.u.r.dy fishermen.

"There she is!" cried old Abe, as he pointed out to sea. "There she is, blowing and drifting in fast. And right toward the Dolphin Rocks, too--the worst place on the beach!" They all gazed toward the doomed vessel, that was now much nearer sh.o.r.e. Blake even thought he could descry figures on deck, clinging to the stumps of masts.

CHAPTER XXIV

OUT OF THE WRECK

"Here come the life savers!" cried Blake a little later, as through the spray that flew over the beach a party of men, in yellow oilskins, could be seen dragging something over the sand.

"Yes, and few enough of 'em there are to do the work," said old Abe Haskill. "The government ought to put more men at the station."

"Some were hurt, trying to launch the boat this morning," said Joe.

"Very likely," agreed the old fisherman. "The sea can be cruel when it wants to."

"And there comes Tom Cardiff!" added Blake, as he pointed to another oncoming figure.

"Yes, and Harry Stanton is with him," remarked Abe. "They must have left the lighthouse to look after itself, and they're going to help in the rescue."

"No danger to the light, now that them pesky wreckers have been caught,"

remarked one of the fishermen.

"Boom!" came a dull report over the waste of tumultuous waters.

"What's that?" asked Blake.

"The signal gun!" cried Abe. "She must be sinking and they want us to hurry help. But she's too far out yet for a line to reach her."

Again the signal gun sounded, and hearing it, the life savers hastened their pace, but it was hard work dragging their apparatus through the sand.

"Let's help 'em!" cried Joe. "The s.h.i.+p is drifting up this way. If we make pictures it will have to be from about here. Let's help drag the wagon!"

"That's right!" echoed Blake, and the boys, leaving their cameras in charge of Mr. Hadley, hastened to relieve the f.a.gged-out life savers.

The fishermen and some of the theatrical men joined in also.

"Right about here," directed the captain of the life saving crew, when the cart containing the gun, "shears" and other parts of the breeches buoy had been dragged farther along. "She'll strike about here, I fancy."

The doomed vessel was now much nearer sh.o.r.e, and on her wave-washed decks could be seen the sailors, some of them lashed to the stumps of masts, others to whatever of the standing rigging offered a hold against the grasp of the sea.

"Get ready, men!" the commander went on. "The wind is bringing her in fast, and it's going to be against us shooting a line over her, but we'll do our best. If she strikes now, so much the better."

"Why?" asked Blake, wonderingly.

"Because then she'll be stationary, and we can keep our main line taut.

If she keeps drifting insh.o.r.e while we're hauling the buoy back and forth it means that we'll have to keep tightening up all the while."

"There, she's struck!" suddenly called one of the life savers. All gazed out to sea, where, amid a smother of foam, the craft could be seen. Her change in position was evident. Her decks sloped more, and instead of drifting she remained in one position.

"The rocks have gripped her," spoke old Abe, solemnly. "She'll go to pieces soon now."

"Then get busy!" cried C. C. Piper, who seemed not to have lost his strangely cheerful mood. "Save those men!"

"That's what we're going to do," said the captain. "All ready now, men."

"And that means we'd better get busy, Joe," said Blake. "We can't do anything to help just now. Besides, there are a lot of men here. We must get our cameras in place."

"That's right, Blake," and the two lads got their apparatus in shape to operate, Mr. Hadley doing the same. The machines were set up on some sand hills, far enough back to be out of the spray, which was like a fog close to the surface of the water.

While some of the life savers and their volunteer a.s.sistants were burying in the sand the heavy anchor that was to hold one end of the rope on which the breeches buoy would travel, others were getting ready to fire the gun.

In brief, the breeches buoy is operated as follows: A small mortar, or cannon, is used, and an elongated projectile is placed in it. Attached to the projectile is a thin and strong line. It is coiled in a box and placed on the sand near the mortar. The coils are laid around pegs in a peculiar manner to prevent tangling. The pegs are then pulled out, and the coils lie one upon the other so that the line may be paid out rapidly.

When the projectile is fired toward the s.h.i.+p, the aim is to make it shoot over her deck, carrying the cord with it. This is called "getting a line aboard." Once this is done the crew on the vessel can, by means of the small cord, pull aboard a heavy cable. This is made fast to the highest point possible.

There is now a cable extending from the sh.o.r.e to the s.h.i.+p, the sh.o.r.e end being made fast to the anchor in the sand. The cable is raised as high as possible on a pair of wooden "shears," to keep it above the waves.

Running on pulley wheels, on this stout, tight rope, is the "breeches buoy." This is literally a pair of canvas breeches, into which the person to be saved places himself, getting into the apparatus from the deck of the sinking s.h.i.+p. There is a line fast to the buoy, one end being on sh.o.r.e. When the signal is given those on the beach pull, the buoy and the person in it are pulled along the tight rope by means of the pulleys to the beach and saved, though often they are well drenched in the process. Those remaining on the s.h.i.+p now pull the empty buoy back, and other persons come ash.o.r.e until all are saved.

Sometimes, instead of the canvas breeches, a small enclosed car is used to slide along the rope. In this car more than one person can get, and they are protected from the waves.

"All ready?" asked the captain of the life saving crew, after he had inspected what his men and the others helping them had done.

"All ready, sir!" came the response.

"Then fire!"

The mortar boomed, through the wind shot the projectile toward the s.h.i.+p, carrying with it the swiftly uncoiling rope. All watched anxiously.

"Too short!" cried the captain a moment later, lowering the gla.s.s through which he had watched the effect of the shot. "Use a little more powder this time."

The projectile was hauled back through the waves, and attached to another line, coiled in readiness, while some of the life savers busied themselves recoiling the first rope, in case the second shot failed too.

It did, again falling short.

"Try more powder," said the captain, grimly. "We've got to reach her."

"And soon," murmured old Abe. "She's breaking up fast."

Once more the mortar was fired, Blake and Joe, as well as Mr. Hadley, getting films of every move.