to a ring in the end of the long projectile which the captain carried,
together with a box of ammunition slung over his shoulders. The
cylindrical projectile was fourteen and one-half inches long and weighed
seventeen pounds. All these operations were carried on at once and with
utmost speed in spite of the great difficulties and the darkness.

While the surf boomed and the wind roared, the captain sighted the
gun--aided by Nos. 1 and 2 of the crew--aiming for the outstretched arms
of the yards of the wrecked vessel. With the wind blowing at an almost
hurricane rate, it was a difficult shot, but long practice under all
kinds of difficulties had taught the captain just how to aim. As he
pulled the lanyard, the little bronze cannon spit out fire viciously,
and the long projectile, to which had been attached the end of the
coiled line, sailed off on its errand of mercy. With a whir the line
spun out of the box coil after coil, while the crew peered out over the
breaking seas to see if the keeper's aim was true. At last the line
stopped uncoiling and the life-savers knew that the shot had landed
somewhere. For a time nothing happened, the slender rope reached out
into the boiling waves, but no answering tugs conveyed messages to the
waiting surfmen from the wrecked seamen.

At length the line began to slip through the fingers of the keeper who
held it and moved seaward, so those on shore knew that the rope had been
found and its use understood. The line carried out by the projectile
served merely to drag out a heavy rope on which was run a sort of
trolley carrying a breeches-buoy or sling.

The men on the wreck understood the use of the apparatus, or read the
instructions printed in several languages with which the heavy rope was
tagged. They made the end of the strong line fast to the mast well above