en the men in the surf seized the launching
lines, by means of which the boat could be propelled off its carriage.
A peculiar adaptation of the mechanism enabled them, by _pulling
backward_, to force the boat _forward_. For a moment they stood
inactive as a towering wave rolled in like a great black scroll coming
out of the blacker background, where the sound of the raging storm could
be heard, but where nothing could be seen, save the pale red light which
proved that the wreck still held together.

The sea flew up, almost overwhelming the carriage. John Furby, standing
at his post by the steering oar, with the light of the small boat-lamp
shining up into his rugged face, gave the word in a clear, strong voice.

"Hurrah!" shouted the men on shore, as they ran up the beach with the
ends of the launching ropes.

The boat sprang into the surf, the crew bent to their oars with all
their might, and kept pace with the rush of the retreating billow, while
the sea drew them out as if it were hungry to swallow them.

The lifeboat met the next breaker end-on; the men, pulling vigorously,
cleft it, and, passing beyond, gained the deep water and disappeared
from view.

The minutes that followed appeared like hours, but our patience was not
long tried. The boat soon re-appeared, coming in on the crest of a
towering wave, with six saved seamen in her. As she struck the beach
she was seized by the crowd on shore, and dragged out of danger by main
force.

Thus far all was well. But there was stern work still to be done.
Having ascertained that the vessel was a collier, and that none of her
crew were lost, I sent the six men with an escort to the Sailors' Home,
and followed the lifeboat, which was already on its way to the second
wreck, not more than five hundred yards from the first.

Here they were equally successful, three men and a boy being rescued
from the vessel, which also proved to be a small collier. Then the boat
was conveyed to the third wreck, which turned out to be a brig, and was
nearly a mile removed from the harbour, just opposite the fishing
village of Cove.

The crew of the lifeboat being now much exhausted, were obliged to give
up their oars and life-belts to fresh men, who volunteered for the
service in scores. Nothing, however, would persuade John Furby to
resign his position, although he was nearly worn out with fatigue and
exposure.

Once more the lifeboat dashed into the sea, and once again ret