While this was doing, a ball with string attached was shot from a small cannon on board the _Fearless_. Whistling through the air, it landed just within the wrecked ship's rail. Eager hands prevent it from slipping and there is no lack of helpers to draw in the line to the deck. With deft but trembling hands the crew work to secure the cable which follows the line.
At last the life line is adjusted and secured between the two ships, the life buoy comes speeding over the water to the doomed vessel, and as it rushed back toward the waiting _Fearless_, with its load of women and children, a great cheer goes up. A moment, and the forlorn creatures are lifted by tender hands to the _Fearless_, and the buoy swings back for a second load. The work of rescue has begun.
Back and forth swings the buoy until the women and children are all safe, and still the miracle holds; the wreck still floats. In less time than would have seemed possible, all the sufferers from the wreck have reached the rescuing ship except the captain and his first mate, and the life buoy is swung back for the last time. Hurry now, willing hands! Already the bow of the sinking steamer is buried beneath the waves. Another moment or two, and it will be too late. Only a few feet more. Speed, speed, life buoy! She reaches the rail. Eager hands draw the two last voyagers over and cut the now useless life line. As the men step to the deck of the _Fearless_ the wreck, with one more convulsive shiver, plunges to her last resting place, but, thank God, with not one soul left upon her. All are saved, and Bert, overcome, bows his head upon his arms, and again thanks heaven for the wireless. Once more it has wrought a miracle and plucked a host of precious lives from the maw of the ravenous sea.
"Beat this if you can, fellows," said Tom, as, next morning, lazily stretched in his steamer chair on the deck of the _Fearless_, his eyes took in with delight the broad expanse of the ocean, with its heaving, green billows, capped with feathery foam of dazzling whiteness; the arching blue of the heavens, across which floated soft, gray clouds, which, pierced through and through by the brilliant sunshine, seemed as transparent as a gossamer veil. A sea-gull, rising suddenly from the crest of a wave, soared high with gracefully waving wings; then suddenly turning, swooped downward with the speed of an arrow, disappearing for a moment beneath the wave, rose again, triumphant, with a fish in its talons, and swept majestically skyward.