There was no life-boat within reach and no hand to help.

It was at night--a snowstorm raging and the sea a corral of hungry beasts fighting the length of the beach.

The shipwrecked crew had left their schooner pounding on the outer bar, and finding their cries drowned by the roar of the waters, had taken to their boat.

She came bow on, the sea-drenched sailors clinging to her sides.

Uncle Isaac Polhemus caught sight of her just as a savage pursuing roller dived under her stern, lifted the frail shell on its broad back, and whirled it bottom side up and stern foremost on to the beach.