heads, and those who with spyglasses kept a look-out in the direction of the light-vessels confirmed them in their disbelief.

About nine o'clock, tidings came that a brig was ashore on the Woolpack Sands, off Margate. It was of course concluded that the two Margate lifeboats would go to the rescue; and, although there was much anxiety and Excitement as to the result of the attempt the Margate boatmen would make, no one had the least idea that the services of the Ramsgate boat would be required. Thus time passed on, until twelve o'clock, when most of the men went away to dinner, leaving a few only on watch. Shortly after twelve, the coast-guard man from Margate hastened breathless to the pier and to the harbour-master's office, saying, in answer to eager inquiries, as he hurried on, that the two Margate life-boats had been wrecked, and that the Ramsgate boat was wanted. The harbour-master immediately gave the order to man the life-boat. No sooner had the words passed his lips, than the sailors who had crowded around the door of the office in expectation of the order, rushed away to the boat.

First come, first in; not a moment's hesitation, not a thought of farther clothing! The news soon spread; each boatman as he heard it made a hasty snatch at his south-wester cap and bag of waterproof overalls, and raced down to the boat; and for some time boatman after boatman was to be seen rushing down the pier, hoping to find a place still vacant for him. If the race had been to save their own lives, instead of to risk them, it could scarcely have been more hotly contested. Some of those who had won the race, and were in the boat, were ill-prepared with clothing for the hardships they would have to endure; for, if they had not their things at hand, they would not delay a moment to obtain them, fearing that the crew might be made up before they got there. These were supplied by the generosity of their friends, who had come down better prepared, although

too late for the enterprise; the cork jackets were thrown into the boat, and put on by the men. The powerful steam-tug, Aid, belonging to the harbour, and which has her steam up night and day ready for any emergency that may arise, got her steam to full power, and, with her brave and skilful master, Daniel Reading, in command, took the boat in tow, and made her way out of the harbour. James Hogben, who, with Reading, has been in many a wild scene of danger, commanded the life-boat. It was nearly low water at the time, but the force of the gale was such that a good deal of spray was dashing over the pier, and the snow, which was falling in blinding squalls, had drifted and eddied in every protected nook and corner, making it hard work for the excited crowd who had assembled to see the life-boat start, to battle their way through the drifts and against the wind, snow and foam, to the head of the pier. There at last they assembled, and many a heart failed as they saw the steamer and boat clear the pier and encounter the first rush of the wind and sea outside. "She seemed to go out under water," said one old fellow; "I wouldn't have gone in her for the universe;" and those who did not know the heroism that such scenes called forth in the breasts of our watermen, could not help wondering somewhat at the eagerness that had been displayed to get a place in the boat-and this although they knew that the two Margate life-boats had been already. wrecked in the attempt to get the short distance which separated Margate from the wreck, while they would have to battle their way through the gale for ten or twelve miles before they could get even in sight of the vessel. It says nothing against the daring or skill of the Margate boatmen, or the efficiency of their boats that they failed. In such a gale success was almost impossible without the aid of steam. With it they would probably have succeeded; without it the Ramsgate boat would certainly have failed.

As soon as the steamer and boat got

clear of the pier they felt the full force of the storm, and it seemed almost doubtful whether they could make any progress against it. Getting out of the force of the tide as it swept round the pier, they began to move ahead, and were soon ploughing their way through a perfect sea of foam. The steamer, with engines working full power, plunged along; every wave, as it broke over her bows, flying up, sent its spray mast high, and deluged the deck with a tide of water, which, as it swept aft, gave the men on board enough to do to hold on. The life-boat was towing astern, with fifty fathom of five-inch hawser-an enormously strong rope, about the thickness of a man's wrist. Her crew already experienced the dangers and discomforts they were ready to submit to without a murmur, perhaps for many hours, in their effort to save life. It would be hard to give a description to enable one, to realize their position in the boat. The use of a life-boat is, that it will live where other boats would of necessity founder; they are made for, and generally only used on, occasions of extreme danger and peril, for terrible storms and wild seas. The water flows in the boat and over it, and it still floats. Some huge rolling wave will break over it and for a moment bury it, but it rises in its buoyancy, and shakes itself free; beaten down on its broadside by the waves and wind, it rises on its keel again, and defies them to do their worst. Such was the noble boat of which we are writing. The waves that broke over her drenched and deluged, and did everything but drown, her. The men, from the moment of their clearing the pier to that of their return, were up to their knees in water. They bent forward as much as they could, each with a firm hold upon the boat. The spray and waves beat and broke upon their backs; and, although it could not penetrate their waterproof clothing, it chilled them to the bone-for, as it fell, it froze. So bitter was the cold that their very mittens were frozen to their hands. After a tremendous struggle, the steamer seemed to be making head against the

storm; they were well clear of the pier, settled to their work, and getting on gallantly. They passed through the cud channel, and had passed the black and white buoys, so well known to Ramsgate visitors, when a fearful sea came heading towards them. It met and broke over the steamer, buried her in foam, and swept along. The life-boat rose to it, and then, as she felt the strain on the rope, plunged into it stem on, and was for a moment nearly buried. The men were almost washed out of her; but at that moment the tow-rope gave way to the tremendous strain; the boat, lifted with a jerk, was flung round by the force of the wave, and for a moment seemed at the mercy of the sea which broke over her amidships. "Oars out!" was the cry as soon as the men had got their breath. They laboured and laboured to get the boat's head to the wind, but in vain; the force of the gale was too much for them, and, in spite of all their efforts, they drifted fast to the Broke Shoal, over which the sea was beating heavily; but the steamer, which throughout was handled most admirably, both as regards skill and bravery, was put round as swiftly as possible, and very cleverly brought within a yard or two to windward of the boat as she lay athwart the sea. They threw a hawlingline on board, to which was attached a bran-new hawser, and again took the boat in tow.

The tide was still flowing, and, as it rose, the wind came up in heavier and heavier gusts, bringing with it a blinding snow and sleet, which, with the foam, flew through the boat, still freezing as it fell, till the men looked, as one remarked at the time, like a body of ice. They could not look to windward for the drifting snow and heavy seas continually running over them; but not one heart failed, not one repented of winning the race to the life-boat. Broadstairs they suddenly felt the way of the boat stop. "The rope broken again," was the first thought of all; but, on looking round, as they were then enabled to do, the boat being no longer forced through the seas, they discovered

Off

to their utter dismay that the steamer had stopped. They thought that her machinery had broken down, and at once despaired of saving the lives of the shipwrecked; but soon they discovered, to their joy, that the steamer had merely stopped to let out more cable, fearful lest it might break again, as they fought their way round the North Foreland. It was another hour's struggle before they reached the North Foreland. There the sea was running tremendously high. The gale was still increasing; the snow, and sleet, and spray rushed by with hurricane speed. Although it was only the early afternoon, the air was so darkened with the storm, that it seemed a dull twilight. The captain of the boat was steering; he peered out between his coat-collar and cap, but looked in vain for the steamer. He knew that she was all right, for the rope kept tight; but many times, although she was only one hundred yards ahead, he could see nothing of her. Still less able were the men on board the steamboat to see the life-boat. Often did they anxiously look astern and watch for a break in the drift and scud to see that she was all right; for, although they still felt the strain upon the rope, she might be towing along bottom up, or with every man washed out of her, for anything they could tell. Several times the fear that the life-boat was gone came over the master of the steamer. Still steamer and boat battled stoutly and successfully against the storm.

As soon as they were round the North Foreland, the snow squall cleared, and they sighted Margate, all anxiously looking for the wreck; but nothing of her was to be seen. They saw a lugger riding just clear of the pier, with foremast gone, and anchor down, to prevent her being driven ashore by the gale. They next sighted the Margate life-boat, abandoned and washed ashore, in Westgate Bay, looking a complete wreck, the waves breaking over her. A little beyond this, they caught sight of the second life-boat, also ashore; and then they learnt to realize to the full the gallant

efforts that had been made to save the shipwrecked, and the destruction that had been wrought, as effort after effort had been overcome by the fury of the gale.

But where was the wreck? They could see nothing of her: had she been beaten to pieces, all lives lost, and were they too late? A heavy mass of cloud and snow-storm rolled on to windward of them, in the direction of the Margate sands, and they could not make out any signs of the wreck there. There was just a chance that it was the Woolpack Sand that she was on. They thought it the more likely, as the first intelligence which came of the wreck declared that such was the case; and accordingly they determined to make for the Woolpack Sand, which was about three miles farther on. They had scarcely decided upon this, when, most providentially, there was a break in the drift of snow to windward, and they suddenly caught sight of the wreck. But for this sudden clearance in the storm they would have proceeded on, and, before they could have found out their mistake and got back, every soul must have perished. The master of the steamboat made out the flag of distress flying in the rigging, the ensign union downwards; she was doubtless the vessel they were in search of.

But still it was a question how they could get to her, as she was on the other side of the sand. To tow the boat round the sand would be a long job in the face of such a gale; and for the boat to make across the sand seemed almost impossible, so tremendous was the sea which was running over it. Nevertheless, there was no hesitation. on the part of the life-boat crew. It seemed a forlorn hope, a rushing upon destruction, to attempt to sail through such a surf and sea; but to go round the sands would occasion a delay which they could not bear to think of. Without hesitation, then, they cast off the towrope, and were about setting sail, when they found that the tide was running so furiously that it would be necessary for them to be towed at least three miles to the eastward, before they would be suf

ficiently far to windward to fetch the wreck. It was a hard struggle to get the tow-rope on board again, and a heavy disappointment to all to find that an hour or so more of their precious time must be consumed before they could get to the rescue of their perishing brother seamen; but there was no help for it; and away they went again in tow of the steamer. The snow squall came on, and they lost sight of the vessel; but all were anxiously on the look out; and now and then in a lift of the squall they could catch a glimpse of her. They could see that she was almost buried in the sea, which broke over her in great clouds of foam; and again many and weary were the doubts and speculations as to whether or no any one on board the wreck could still be alive.

For twenty minutes or so they battled against the wind and tide. The gale, which had been steadily increasing since the morning, came on heavier than ever; and the sea was running so furiously, that even the new rope with which the boat was being towed could not resist the increasing strain, and suddenly parted with a tremendous jerk. There was no thought of picking up the cable again. They could stand no farther delay, and one and all rejoiced to hear the captain give orders to set the sail.

CHAPTER III.

THE RESCUE AND THE RETURN.

HARDER still the gale, and the rush of the sea, and the blinding snow-the storm was at its height. As they headed for the sands, a darkness as of night seemed to settle down upon them; they could scarcely see each other; but on through the raging sea they drove the gallant boat. As they approached the shallow water,-the high part of the sand, where the heaviest sea was breaking, they could see spreading itself before them, standing out in the gloom, a barrier-wall of foam; for, as the waves broke on the sand, and clashed together

in their recoil, they mounted up in columns of foam, which was caught by the wind, and carried away in white streaming clouds of spray, and the fearful roar of the beating waves could be heard above the gale. But straight for the breakers they made. No wavering, no hesitation; not a heart failed!

The boat, although under only her double-reefed foresail and mizen-as little sail as she could possibly carry― was driven on by the hurricane force of the wind. On through the outer range of breakers she plunged, and then came indeed a struggle for life. The waves no longer rolled on in foaming ranks, but leapt, and clashed, and battled together in a raging boil of sea. They broke over the boat; the surf poured in first on one side and then on the other; some waves rushed over the boat, threatening to sweep every man out of her. "Look out, my men! hold on! hold on!" was the cry when this happened; and each man threw himself down with his breast on the thwart, and, with both arms clasped round it, hugged it, and held to it against the tear and wrestle of the wave, while the rush of water poured over their backs and heads and buried them in its flood. Down for a moment boat and men all seemed to sink; but the splendid boat rose in her buoyancy and freed herself of the water which had for a moment buried her, and her crew breathed again. A cry of triumph arose from them-"All right! all right! now she goes through it; hold on, my boys!" A moment's lull; she glided on the crest of a huge wave, or only smaller ones tried their strength against her; then the monster fellows came heading on; again the warning cry was given, "Look out! hold on, hold on!" Thus, until they got clear of the sands, the fearful struggle was often repeated. But at last it ended, and they got into deep water, leaving the breakers behind them. They had then only the huge rolling waves to contend with, and they seemed but as little in comparison to the broken water they had just passed through and escaped from. The boat was put before the

wind, and every man was on the look out for the wreck. For a time it remained so thick that there was no chance of finding her, when again, the second time, a sudden break in the storm revealed her. She was about half a mile to leeward.

They shifted their foresail with some difficulty, and again made in for the sands to the vessel. The appearance of the wreck made even the boatmen shudder. She had settled down by the stern upon the sands, the sea making a clear breach over her. The starboard-bow was the only part of the hull visible; the mainmast was gone; the foresail and foretopsail blown adrift; and great columns of foam were mounting up, flying over her foremast and bow. They saw a Margate lugger lying at anchor, just clear of the sand, and made close to her. As they shot by they could just make out through the roar of the storm a hail-" Eight of our men on board;" and on they flew into a sea which would in a moment have swamped the lugger, noble boat though she was. Approaching the wreck, it was with terrible anxiety they strained their sight, trying to discover whether there were still any men left in the tangled mass of rigging, over which the sea was breaking so furiously. By degrees they made them out.

"I see one,

little to the vessel. The waves break over them for a moment bury the boat; and then, as they break upon the vessel, the spray hides the men, lashed to the rigging, from their sight. They hoist up the sail a little to help the boat sheer, and soon a huge wave lifts them; they let out a yard or two more cable by the run, and she is alongside the wreck! With a cry, three men jump from the rigging, and are saved. The next instant they see a huge wave rolling towards them, and might and main, hand over hand, all haul in the cable, and draw the boat away from the wreck, and thus escape being washed against her, and perhaps over her, to certain destruction. Again they watch their chance and get alongside. This time they manage to remain a little longer than before; and, one after another, thirteen of the shipwrecked leap from the rigging to the boat; and away she is again. "Are they all saved?" No'; three of the Spaniards are still left in the rigging; they seem almost dead, and can scarcely unlash themselves from the shrouds, and crawl down, ready for the return of the boat. This time the peril is greater than ever. They have to

go quite close to the vessel, for the men are too weak to leap; they must remain longer, for the men have to be lifted on board; but as before, coolly and determinately they go to their work; the cable is veered out, the sail manoeuvred to make the boat sheer, and again she is alongside; the men are grasped by their clothes, and dragged into the boat. The last in the rigging is the cabin-boy; he seems entangled in the shrouds. (The poor little fellow had a canvas bag of trinkets and things he was taking home; it had caught in the rigging; and his cold, half-dead hands could not free it.) A strong hand grasps him, and tears him down into the boat; for a moment's delay may be death to all. A tremendous wave rushes on them; hold, anchor! hold, cable! give but a yard, and all are lost! The boat lifts, is washed into the forerigging; the sea passes; and she settles down again upon an even keel! If one stray rope of all the tangled rig