=wick ordered the anchor-chain released. At once the cutter began to move toward the beach, very slowly at first, then faster and faster as wind and wave gave her momentum. The lead was kept going incessantly, the leadsman shouting the depths up to the bridge as he made his soundings. Foot by foot, fathom by fathom, the Iroquois drew nearer the Capitol City. Steadily the cutter’s searchlight played on the disabled ship, its brilliant beam boring through the inky dark.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, yet none the less truly, the wind abated its violence. Less often the great waves swept over the deck of the stranded steamship. Not so shrill was the screeching of the Iroquois’ cordage. The captain, with his wide experience, had evidently foreseen a change in the weather. He was evidently expecting the wind to fall, and if it did, it would help in the effort to float the stranded vessel, for a great pressure against the ship would be removed. But as the minutes passed, the wind did not become noticeably less. It still howled angrily, and swept with fitful force over ship and wave. Now it came in gusts, blowing furiously for a time, then lulling. But without ceasing the tide drove in, and the waves crept further and further up the sides of the stranded steamship, and the combers crashed ever higher up the sandy beach.
