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. Dashing into the suds, he jerked two of the
crew to their feet before they knew what had struck
them; then sprang back for the others clinging to
the seats and slowly drowning in the smother. Twice
he plunged headlong after them, bracing himself
against the backsuck, then with the help of his steel-
like grip all four were dragged clear of the souse.
Ever after it was "Uncle Isaac" or "that old hang-
on," but always with a lifting of the chin in pride.
Samuel Green came next: Forty-five, long, Lincoln
-bodied, and bony; coal-black hair, coal-black
eyes, and charcoal-black mustache; neck like a
loop in standing rigging; arms long as cant-hooks,
with the steel grips for fingers; sluggish in movement
and slow in action until the supreme moment of danger
tautened his nerves to breaking point; then came
an instantaneous spring, quick as the recoil of a
parted hawser.
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