The Moving Picture Boys on the Coast Part 29

"There she goes!" cried the captain, in delight, as he watched the third shot. "Over her decks as clean as you'd want! Now to get the poor souls ash.o.r.e!"

On board the wrecked s.h.i.+p could be observed a scene of activity. The sailors began hauling on the line, and presently the big cable began paying out from sh.o.r.e. Soon it reached the side of the s.h.i.+p, to be hauled up, and made fast to the stump of one of the masts.

"Lively now, boys!" cried the captain. "Pull taut and then run out the buoy. She can't last much longer!"

The men made redoubled efforts, and Blake and Joe, leaving their automatic camera working, while Mr. Hadley turned the operation of his over to Macaroni, the three moving picture experts aided in the work of rescue.

Soon the breeches buoy was hauled out to the s.h.i.+p for its first pa.s.senger, and presently the sagging of the cable told that some one was in it.

"Pull, boys!" cried the captain of the life savers, and through the das.h.i.+ng waves, that threw their crests over the s.h.i.+pwrecked person, the buoy was hauled ash.o.r.e.

"Grab him!" cried the captain, as the first one saved was pulled up high on the beach.

"It isn't a him, captain!" cried one of the men. "It's a woman!"

"Bless my sea boots!" yelled the captain. "A woman! Are there any more of you aboard--or any children?"

"I--I'm the only one," was the panting answer, for she had swallowed much water. "I'm the captain's wife. Can you--can you save the others?

They made me come first."

"That's right! Women and children always first!" shouted the captain.

"Of course we'll save the others," yelled C. C., who was running excitedly about, helping all he could. "We'll save every one!" he repeated.

"Gloomy in a new role--a happy one!" remarked Blake.

The buoy was hauled back, and another was saved--one of the sailors, this time. He reported that there were in all twenty-five hands on the s.h.i.+p, exclusive of the captain.

"He'll come last, of course," he said, simply.

"Of course," agreed Abe Haskill. "The captain allers does that. Once more, boys!"

Again was a rescue effected, the moving picture cameras registering faithfully everything that went on. The work had to be done quickly now, for the vessel was fast breaking up.

"Two more left!" cried the chief life saver. "Jack up that cable, boys; she's sagging. I guess the old s.h.i.+p is working farther in. Jack her up!"

By means of pulleys attached to the main rope it was made tauter. Then came a heavy sag on it.

"What's that?" asked one of the life savers.

"It's two of 'em--two of 'em, clinging to the buoy!" cried Blake, who was watching through a gla.s.s. "I guess the s.h.i.+p must be going to pieces too fast to allow for another trip. You've got to save two at once."

"And we can do it!" cried the captain. "All together, now, boys! But they're going to get wet!"

By reason of the added weight the rope was sagging badly, and the men clinging to the buoy could be seen half in and half out of the water.

"Lively, men, or they'll drown!" yelled the captain.

Hardy and intrepid as were the life-savers and the volunteers who had a.s.sembled to help them, they paused a moment now. It seemed impossible that the two in the buoy could be pulled ash.o.r.e in time to be saved.

Over them broke great seas, the waves hissing and foaming as though angry at being cheated of their prey. The storm-swept waters seemed to seize on the rope, as though to pull it beneath the billows. The anchor that held the rope which pa.s.sed over the "shears" seemed to be pulling out of the sand packed around it.

"Come on, men!" cried the captain. "Take a brace now, and we'll have 'em ash.o.r.e in a jiffy!"

"But she's slipping!" cried a grizzled seaman. "She can't hold any longer. The whole business is going!"

"She can't go until we git 'em ash.o.r.e!" yelled the captain of the life-savers. "I won't let her! Here, Jim Black, you mosey back there and pile more sand around that anchor. Now then, men, pull as though you meant it. What! You're not going to have it said that you let a little cat's paw of wind like this beat you; are you?"

Something of the captain's courage seemed to infuse itself into his men.

They had been half-hearted before, but they were brave now. Once more they ranged themselves on the rope that was used to haul the buoy from the s.h.i.+p to sh.o.r.e. It was as though the waves had tried to intimidate them, and had been bidden defiance.

The weight of the two persons in the buoy was almost too much. The waves had a doubly large surface against which to break, and well the captain knew that there was a limit to the strain to which the tackle could be subjected. Once the main rope leading from the anchor to the s.h.i.+p, on which cable the buoy ran, parted, and nothing could save those last two lives. No wonder the captain wanted haste.

"Haul away!" he bellowed through the roar of the wind, using his hands as a trumpet. "Haul away, men!"

His companions braced themselves in the s.h.i.+fting sand. They bent their backs. Their arms swelled into bunches of muscles that had been trained in the hard school of the sea.

"Will the haul-rope stand it?" cried one man.

"She's _got_ to stand it!" cried the captain. "She's just _got_ to!

Pull, men; you're not half hauling!"

"If that rope gives," faltered an old, gray-haired man, who seemed too aged for this life, "if that rope gives way----"

"Don't you talk about it!" snapped the captain. "I'll take all the responsibility of that rope. It'll hold all right. I looked at it the other day. All you've got to do is pull! Do you hear me? Pull as you never pulled before!"

Once more the backs of the men bent to the strain. The moving picture boys, watching and waiting; filled with anxiety even as they filmed the wreck, saw that the rise and fall of the waves had a good deal to do with the rescue.

"They can pull better when the waves don't wash over those two poor souls in the buoy," observed Blake.

"Yes, there's less resistance," agreed Joe. "Oh, there comes a big one!"

and, as he spoke, an immense comber buried from sight the two whom the life-savers were endeavoring to pull from the grip of the sea.

"If they can only hold their breaths long enough, they may come through it," said Blake. "But it's a tough proposition."

"It sure is," agreed his chum. They had gone back to snap a few pictures, and then, finding that the automatic apparatus was working well, they again joined the group on the sands.

"Another pull or two and we'll have 'em ash.o.r.e!" yelled the captain.

"Lively, men!"

As he spoke a grizzled seaman rushed up to him.

"That anchor's slippin' ag'in!" he bellowed through the noise of the storm. "I can't put sand on fast enough to hold it!"

"Then I'll have some one help you!" cried the captain. "Here, Si Watson!

You git back there and help Jim pile sand on that anchor. It mustn't be allowed to pull out--do you understand? It mustn't pull out if--if you have to--sit on it!"

"Aye--aye, sir," was the answer, and the two men ran back to where the anchor was buried in the beach, to pile the sand on with the shovels provided for that purpose.