A wild cry went up to Heaven as we struggled for dear life in the water,
battling with the under-tow of the in-rolling waves, which tried to drag
us down in their angry clutches; but first one and then another emerged
dripping on the sands, even Mr Ohlsen having saved himself without
help, although he had been snugly tucked up in his hammock a moment
before, and was lying down in the stern-sheets when the boat capsized.
Poor Harmer, however, whose broken leg was only fresh set, and the bones
not united, was unable to put out a hand on his own behalf, and seeing
he had not gained the beach with the others, I looked eagerly about for
him, knowing that in his crippled state it was almost impossible for him
to have got ashore.
Just then, his head appeared some twenty feet out from the land, in the
midst of the boiling surf, with his hands stretched out in mute entreaty
to us, appealing for succour as he was being carried out rapidly to sea.
Who could refrain from venturing in again to rescue him?
Certainly not I; and, as I dashed in, Pat Doolan followed my example,
the cook uttering a wild Irish yell that had the effect of animating
several of the rest of the sailors to lend us a helping hand, although
they had not the pluck to dash in too.
"Hooroo, boys!" he shouted. "Follow me leader, ye spalpeens, and let us
say who'll raich the poor drowning chap first! Ould Oireland for iver!"
He reached Harmer almost as soon as I, and the two of us took hold of
him together--the poor fellow, however, being already insensible, made
no effort whatever to keep up and help himself, and was absolutely limp
in our grasp.
We managed to swim back in with our burden on the top of a roller, well
enough; but when we tried to secure our footing on the shore, the under-
tow took us out again, although Pat Doolan flung himself face downwards
on the sand, clutching it with one of his hands while he held the half-
drowned man with the other in the same way as I did. Once, twice, we
made the attempt; and yet, in spite of our desperate struggles, both of
us putting forth all our strength, the backwash of the waves laughed at
our resistance, floating us back again out into deep water. At our
third try, however, and it would have been the last, for we were both
exhausted by this time, the men on the beach--who had formed a line
holding on to one another, Jorrocks being foremost and Captain Billings
next, wading in up to their necks in the sea--managed to catch hold of
us, when we were dragged out by sheer force; Pat and I, with Harmer
between us, all lumped together in a confused mass, and the hands
hauling us in with a "Yo, heave ho!" as if they were pulling at the
topsail halliards or getting the main tack aboard!
My swim after Mr Macdougall was nothing to this, although I had then
battled with the sea for over an hour, while now the Irishman and I had
not been ten minutes over our fight with the remorseless waves; but it
was a terrific contest whilst it lasted, and albeit we had both come off
victorious, thanks to the timely assistance of our comrades, we were
nearly worsted, and so utterly pumped out that another five minutes of
it would have ended the matter very differently. As it was, I had to
lie on the sands, whither Jorrocks had lifted me beyond the reach of the
tide, for a considerable period before I could either move or speak,
while Pat Doolan was in an equally sorry plight.