nts were enacting on the pier the Mary Mac had drifted
over the sand about half a mile from where she had struck. One of her
crew threw a leadline towards a seaman on the shore. The hero plunged
into the surf and caught it. The rest of the work was easy. By means
of the line the men of the Life Brigade sent off their hawser, and
breeches-buoy or cradle (which apparatus I shall hereafter explain), and
drew the crew in safety to the land.

That same morning a Whitby brig struck on the sands. The lifeboat
Pomfret, belonging to the Royal National Lifeboat Institution, put out
and rescued her crew. In the morning the shores were strewn with
wreckage, and amongst it was found the body of the boy belonging to the
Mary Mac.

All these disasters were caused by the masters of the vessels mistaking
the south for the north pier, in consequence of having lost sight of
Tynemouth light in the blinding showers.

Of course many lifeboats were out doing good service on the night to
which I have referred, but I pass all that by at present. The next
chapter will carry you, good reader, into the midst of a pitched battle.

CHAPTER TWO.

DESCRIBES A TREMENDOUS BATTLE AND A GLORIOUS VICTORY.

Before following our brilliant lifeboat--this gaudy, butterfly-like
thing of red, white, and blue--to the field of battle, let me observe
that the boats of the Royal National Lifeboat Institution have several
characteristic qualities, to which reference shall be made hereafter,
and that they are of various sizes. [A full and graphic account of the
Royal National Lifeboat Institution--its boats, its work, and its
achievements--may be found in an interesting volume by its late
secretary, Richard Lewis, Esquire, entitled _History of the Lifeboat and
its Work_--published by Macmillan and Company.]

One of the largest size is that of Ramsgate. This may be styled a
privileged boat, for it has a steam-tug to wait upon it named the Aid.
Day and night the Aid has her fires "banked up" to keep her boilers
simmering, so that when the emergency arises, a vigorous thrust of her
giant poker brings them quickly to the boiling point, and she is ready
to take her lifeboat in tow and tug her out to the famed and fatal
Goodwin Sands, which lie about four miles off the coast--opposite to
Ramsgate.

I draw attention to this boat, first because she is exceptionally
situated with regard to frequency of call, the means of going promptly
into action, and s