rs the fishermen--at great risk to their
little craft--opened the companion leading down into the _Seamew's_ tiny
after-cabin, and the poor souls from the wreck were conveyed below, out
of the reach of the bitter blast and the incessant showers of icy spray.
Bob and two or three others of the smack's crew also went below and
busied themselves in lighting a fire, routing out such blankets and
wraps of various kinds as happened to be on board, and in other ways
doing what they could to ameliorate the deplorable condition of their
guests. Fortunately the wind, dead against them on the way out, was
fair for the homeward run, and the _Seamew_ rushed through the water at
a rate which caused "Dicky" Bird to exclaim--

"Blest if the little huzzy don't seem to know as they poor innercent
babbies' lives depends on their gettin' into mother Salmon's hands and
atween her hot blankets within the next hour! Just see how she's
smoking through it."

Very soon the "Middle" lightship was reached, and as the smack swept
past old Bill shouted to the light-keepers the joyful news of the
rescue. A few minutes afterwards three rockets were sent up at short
intervals from the smack, as an intimation to "mother" Salmon that her
good services were required; and in due time the gallant little smack
found her way back to her moorings in the creek.

The anchor was scarcely let go when three or four boats dashed
alongside, and "Well, Bill, old man, what luck?" was the general
question.

"Five-and-twenty, thank God, men, women, and children," responded old
Bill. "Did ye catch sight of our rockets, boys!"

"Ay, ay; never fear. And `mother' ashore there, she's never turned-in
at all this blessed night. Said as she was _sure_ you'd bring somebody
in; and a rare rousing fire she's got roaring up the chimbley, and
blankets, no end; all the beds made up and warmed, and everything ready,
down to a rattlin' good hot supper; so let's have these poor souls up on
deck (you've got 'em below, I s'pose), and get 'em ashore; they must be
pretty nigh froze to death, I should think."

At Bill's cheery summons the survivors from the wreck staggered to the
smack's deck--their cramped and frozen limbs scarcely able to sustain
them--and the bewildered glances which they cast round them at the
scarcely ruffled waters of the creek glancing in the clear frosty
moonlight, with the fishing smacks and other small craft riding cosily
at anchor on either side, the s