rse could not tell. If she were
sinking fast, then she would have to depend upon her own boats, for the
sea was too heavy until late in the afternoon to venture out in our only
one left. We could no longer see her signals, but carried all the sail
possible, without danger of carrying away our spars, in the effort to get
close to her again.

After standing along for an hour or more we wore ship, and found that we
could just about get within hailing distance to leeward.

Trunnell had the reef tackles rigged from the main yard, and the
life-boat was slung clear of the lee rail. Then, watching a chance, she
was let go with Hans and Johnson in her to keep her clear and dropped
back to the mizzen channels, where the volunteers were ready to get
aboard her.

Four men besides myself manned her, and she was instantly let go to keep
her clear of the sea, which hove her first high on the _Pirate's_
quarter, and then down until our faces were below the copper on her
bends. By dint of quick work we shoved her clear, and started on the
pull, dead to windward.

How small the _Pirate_ looked when we were but a few fathoms distant in
that sea! Our boat rode the waves nicely without shipping much water, and
several times I turned to look back at the ship, where Trunnell stood
beside the skipper, watching us through the glasses, and waiting to pick
us up on our return. I could see the "doctor's" face above the topgallant
rail forward and that of Chips in the waist.

It was a long pull. The sea was running high and the wind was still
blowing a half gale, breaking up the heavy oily clouds into long banks
between which the sun shone at intervals. It was a good half hour's work
before we could cover the short distance between the ships.

We came slowly up under her lee quarter, and when we were quite close I
could see that she was indeed very deep, if not actually sinking. The
words "Royal Sovereign, Liverpool," were painted in gold letters on her
stern, and on the circular buoys hanging upon her quarter-rail was the
same name in black. A group of men stood near the mizzen rigging, and one
short man with a black sou'wester and blue pilot coat hailed us through a
large-mouthed trumpet, which almost hid his bearded face.

"Boat ahoy! can you come aboard?" he roared.

"We'll try to come alongside," I bawled. "Stand by to heave a line."

A man had one ready and hove it well out with a yell to catch. Long Tom,
our lean Yankee sailor, who