CHAPTER XVII.

A BUSY DAY.

In the early morning of the 7th of November 1890, while one of the severest storms known for years on the coast of Lancashire was at its height, signal flares were observed about three miles out at sea. A gun was fired to arouse the lifeboatmen, and in a few minutes the Fleetwood boat was launched and hurrying on her errand of mercy in the wake of a steam-tug. It was almost dark at the time, and the two vessels were quickly lost to view. The news rapidly spread that the lifeboat had been summoned, and soon a number of people were making their way to the beach in the hope of catching a sight of the distressed vessel.

It was not until seven o'clock that the hull of a large barque loomed in sight to those on shore, and it was then evident that but for the gallant services of the lifeboatmen all on board would be lost. Having got well to windward, the tow-rope was let go, and the boat drifted gradually down to the wreck. Here lay the real danger, and it required all the seamanship of the coxswain to prevent the boat from being dashed against the side of the ill-fated vessel, or swept past the mark by the force of the sea. When within a short distance, the boat was brought to an anchor, and veered down on her cable close to the wreck, which was found to be the _Labora_, a Norwegian ship.

The work of rescue was promptly begun, and as it was found to be utterly impossible for the lifeboat to approach near enough to take the men off, the coxswain shouted to the sailors to throw him a line. A lifebuoy was accordingly thrown overboard with a rope attached, and floated to the boat. Communication having been thus established, the crew were dragged through the surf in safety. The work of rescue lasted above two hours, and the boat was repeatedly filled with water, so that the fact that not a single life was lost reflects great credit on the seamanship of the coxswain and his men. The whole crew of the _Labora_, thirteen in number, were taken on board, the captain being the last man to leave the ship.

Sail was then hoisted on the lifeboat, and she made for the shore with all speed. Notwithstanding the gale and the driving rain, hundreds of spectators had assembled along the beach to await the return of the boat. When at length she appeared, she was greeted with shouts of joy, and landed the rescued crew amid a perfect salvo of cheering.

A few hours later, news of another wreck was brought to Fleetwood. Utterly regardless of their rough experience in the early morning, the crew again donned their lifebelts and manned the lifeboat. As they were towed out by the steamer, a magnificent sight was witnessed, the waves dashing furiously over the boat as she ploughed her way through the water, and both vessels were often completely hidden from sight by the seas breaking over them.

Regardless of the drenching they received, they held resolutely on their way, and soon the distance of five miles which intervened between them and the wreck was covered. The crew hailed the approach of the saving boat with loud cheers, but great difficulty was experienced in effecting the rescue, as all the masts and rigging were dashing about alongside the ship. To avoid the wreckage striking the lifeboat, and at the same time to get sufficiently near for the sailors to jump aboard, required great skill and judgment, as well as a cool head and a steady nerve.

Owing to the position in which the stranded vessel was lying, every sea broke over her, and threatened to swamp the lifeboat. Eventually the whole crew of eleven men were rescued, and the lifeboat was headed for the shore, where the crew were landed in a most exhausted condition. But for the brave efforts and untiring exertions of the lifeboatmen, the crews of both of those vessels would have been lost, and well might the noble fellows congratulate themselves on having within a few short hours saved twenty-four of their fellow-men from death.