The Moving Picture Boys on the Coast by Victor Appleton (romantic novels to read .TXT) 📖

'mountain high,'" answered Blake, himself yelling, for their ordinary voices could not be heard above the thunder of the surf and the roar of the gale.

They stood for a few minutes watching the big rollers pounding on the sand, and then, looking down the strand, they saw a figure running toward them.

"Here comes a life guard," remarked Joe.

"And he acts as if something was up," added Blake.

Nearer came the man, dressed in yellow oilskins, for the spray from the sea flew far inland, almost like rain. Joe and Blake had on rubber coats.

"What is it?" cried Blake, as the man came opposite.

He held his hands in funnel shape and yelled:

"A wreck--a big sailing vessel is coming ashore! Her masts are gone, and she can't get off! She'll strike soon. I want all the men I can get to help us with the breeches buoy. We can't launch our boat--too heavy surf!"

CHAPTER XXIII (THE DOOMED VESSEL)

 

"You say there's a wreck?" cried Blake.

"Yes, we just made her out through the glass. She's driving on the rocks fast. The current is setting inshore and the wind is helping it."

"Where is she?" asked Joe.

"Right down there," answered the life guard. "But she'll come up farther this way," and he pointed down toward the rocks opposite which the boys had first surprised the wreckers at work.

"I've got to give the alarm," went on the life saver. "We need all the help we can get. We're short-handed, anyhow, and two of our men were hurt early this morning trying to launch the surf-boat."

"Can't you get some of the fishermen from around here?" asked Joe.

"That's what I came for."

"And we'll help, too!" cried Blake, bracing himself by leaning against the wind, which seemed to grow stronger every minute.

"Sure we will," added Joe. "Can you see the vessel?" he asked, peering eagerly into the spume and spray.

"Maybe she's drifted far enough up by now," went on the coast guard, as he looked intently in the direction he had pointed. "Yes," he cried a moment later, "I can catch glimpses of her at times, when the waves go down a bit. See! There she is now!"

Looking in the direction the guard pointed, Blake and Joe caught a glimpse of a distant black object rising and falling at the mercy of the wind and waves. It was the hull of a vessel, and when Blake used the glass the guard handed him a moment later, he could see the jagged stumps of broken masts.

"She's in a bad way," remarked the lad, gravely.

"Indeed she is," assented the life saver.

"I wonder if my father is in any such storm as this, on his way to China?" mused Joe, as he, too, looked through the binoculars.

"It's a bad storm--and a big one, too," said the guard. "But I must hurry on and give the alarm to the fishermen. The ship will strike soon, and we want to send a line aboard if we can."

"Wait!" cried Blake, as the man started off. "We'll tell the fishermen. You can go back to the station. We'll come to help as soon as we can, and bring all the men we can find."

"Good!" shouted the man. "It'll take some time to get the apparatus in shape, and we'll have to drag it up the beach from the station, to about the place where she'll come on the rocks. Go ahead, give the alarm, and I'll go back. Whew! But this is a fierce storm!"

"Come on!" cried Blake to his chum, and they raced toward the little fishing hamlet.

"Say!" shouted Joe. "I've got an idea!"

"What is it?"

"The wreck--it'll come close on shore, the guard says; why not make some moving pictures of it? They'll be just what Mr. Hadley wants."

"That's it!" yelled Blake. "You've struck it. Go on and tell Mr. Ringold, Mr. Hadley and the others, and I'll get the fishermen. Then we'll go down the beach until we meet the life savers. It's a great chance, Joe!"

The lads separated, one to arouse the fishermen, most of whom were in their shacks, for it was out of the question to lift the nets in the tremendous seas that were running.

"Come on!" cried Blake, as he saw old Abe Haskill come out to look at the weather. "Wreck--ship coming ashore. The coast guards need help!"

"Aye, aye, lad. We're with you!" cried the sturdy old man. "I'll get the boys. A wreck; eh? Pity the poor sailors that come ashore in such a blow!"

Having given the alarm, Blake turned back to join his chum and the others of the theatrical colony.

"We may need all three cameras," he reasoned; "it is such a good chance we don't want to risk it on one film."

Blake found Mr. Hadley and his chum, with the theatrical manager and the male members of the company, ready to set out. Joe had his own camera, while Mr. Hadley was getting the largest one in readiness.

"Let's take the automatic, too," suggested Joe. "We can start it going and not have to worry about it."

"All right," agreed Blake.

"Say, this is the very chance we wanted!" cried Mr. Ringold. "Think of it! A regular wreck, right at our doors!"

"Oh, but the poor sailors!" exclaimed Miss Shay. "I do hope they may be saved!"

"Of course they can!" cried C. C. Piper. "We'll all help. Never fear; we'll save them!"

His tone and manner, to say nothing of his words, were in such contrast to his usual demeanor that everyone looked at his or her neighbor in surprise.

"Don't give up!" went on the comedian, cheerfully. "We'll help the life guards--we'll do anything. We'll save those sailors!"

"Well, get on to Gloomy; would you!" exclaimed Joe, in a low voice, to his chum. "That is the best ever! It's the first time he hasn't predicted a calamity."

"And just when anyone else would," added Blake. "For it sure is going to be hard work to save anyone from a vessel that comes ashore in such a storm as this," and he looked toward the tumbling billows in view from the windows.

Films were threaded into the moving picture cameras, the mechanism was tested, and then the whole company, even to the ladies, set forth.

"I hope the wreck gets near enough so we can get some good pictures of it," said Mr. Ringold.

"It'll have to come pretty well in shore, or the breeches buoy rope won't reach," said Mr. Hadley. "I guess we can get some good pictures."

"It's good it doesn't rain," went on the theatrical man; "though I think it's going to, soon. We'll have to get up on some elevation to avoid the spray."

Down the beach they made their way, to be joined presently by the band of sturdy fishermen.

"There she is!" cried old Abe, as he pointed out to sea. "There she is, blowing and drifting in fast. And right toward the Dolphin Rocks, too--the worst place on the beach!" They all gazed toward the doomed vessel, that was now much nearer shore. Blake even thought he could descry figures on deck, clinging to the stumps of masts.

 

CHAPTER XXIV (OUT OF THE WRECK)

 

 

"Here come the life savers!" cried Blake a little later, as through the spray that flew over the beach a party of men, in yellow oilskins, could be seen dragging something over the sand.

"Yes, and few enough of 'em there are to do the work," said old Abe Haskill. "The government ought to put more men at the station."

"Some were hurt, trying to launch the boat this morning," said Joe.

"Very likely," agreed the old fisherman. "The sea can be cruel when it wants to."

"And there comes Tom Cardiff!" added Blake, as he pointed to another oncoming figure.

"Yes, and Harry Stanton is with him," remarked Abe. "They must have left the lighthouse to look after itself, and they're going to help in the rescue."

"No danger to the light, now that them pesky wreckers have been caught," remarked one of the fishermen.

"Boom!" came a dull report over the waste of tumultuous waters.

"What's that?" asked Blake.

"The signal gun!" cried Abe. "She must be sinking and they want us to hurry help. But she's too far out yet for a line to reach her."

Again the signal gun sounded, and hearing it, the life savers hastened their pace, but it was hard work dragging their apparatus through the sand.

"Let's help 'em!" cried Joe. "The ship is drifting up this way. If we make pictures it will have to be from about here. Let's help drag the wagon!"

"That's right!" echoed Blake, and the boys, leaving their cameras in charge of Mr. Hadley, hastened to relieve the fagged-out life savers. The fishermen and some of the theatrical men joined in also.

"Right about here," directed the captain of the life saving crew, when the cart containing the gun, "shears" and other parts of the breeches buoy had been dragged farther along. "She'll strike about here, I fancy."

The doomed vessel was now much nearer shore, and on her wave-washed decks could be seen the sailors, some of them lashed to the stumps of masts, others to whatever of the standing rigging offered a hold against the grasp of the sea.

"Get ready, men!" the commander went on. "The wind is bringing her in fast, and it's going to be against us shooting a line over her, but we'll do our best. If she strikes now, so much the better."

"Why?" asked Blake, wonderingly.

"Because then she'll be stationary, and we can keep our main line taut. If she keeps drifting inshore while we're hauling the buoy back and forth it means that we'll have to keep tightening up all the while."

"There, she's struck!" suddenly called one of the life savers. All gazed out to sea, where, amid a smother of foam, the craft could be seen. Her change in position was evident. Her decks sloped more, and instead of drifting she remained in one position.

"The rocks have gripped her," spoke old Abe, solemnly. "She'll go to pieces soon now."

"Then get busy!" cried C. C. Piper, who seemed not to have lost his strangely cheerful mood. "Save those men!"

"That's what we're going to do," said the captain. "All ready now, men."

"And that means we'd better get busy, Joe," said Blake. "We can't do anything to help just now. Besides, there are a lot of men here. We must get our cameras in place."

"That's right, Blake," and the two lads got their apparatus in shape to operate, Mr. Hadley doing the same. The machines were set up on some sand hills, far enough back to