d-hearted captain of the Florence (_how_ kind sailors are!) offers
to take babies, nurse and me on shore, so as to escape a long day of
this agonizing rolling. In happy unconsciousness of what landing at
East London, even in a lifeboat, meant when a bar had to be crossed,
we were all tumbled and bundled, more or less unceremoniously, into
the great, roomy boat, and were immediately taken in hand by the busy
little tug. For half a mile or more we made good progress in her wake,
being in a position to set at naught the threatening water-mountains
which came tumbling in furious haste from seaward. It was not until we
seemed close to the shore and all our troubles over that the tug was
obliged to cast us off, owing to the rapidly shoaling water, and
we prepared to make the best of our own way in. Bad was that best,
indeed, though the peril came and went so quickly that it is but a
confused impression I retain of what seemed to me a really terrible
moment. One instant I hear felicitations exchanged between our
captain--who sits protectingly close to me and poor, fainting
little G----, who lies like death in my arms--and the captain of the
lifeboat. The next moment, in spite of sudden panic and presence of
danger, I could laugh to hear the latter sing out in sharpest tones
of terror and dismay, "Ah, you would, would you?" coupled with rapid
orders to the stout rowers and shouts to us of "Look out!" and I _do_
look out, to see on one side sand which the retreating wave has sucked
dry, and in which the boat-seems trying to bury herself as though
she were a mole: on the other hand there towers above us a huge
green wave, white-crested and curled, which is rushing at us like a
devouring monster. I glance, as I think, for the last time, at the
pale nurse, on whose lap lies the baby placidly sucking his bottle.
I see a couple of sailors lay hold of her and the child with one hand
each, whilst with the other they cling desperately to the thwarts.
A stout seafaring man flings the whole weight of his ponderous
pilot-coated body upon G---- and me: I hear a roar of water, and, lo!
we are washed right up alongside of the rude landing-place, still _in_
the boat indeed, but wet and frightened to the last degree. Looking
back on it all, I can distinctly remember that it was not the sight
of the overhanging wave which cost me my deadliest pang of sickening
fright, but the glimpse I caught of the shining, cruel-looking sand,
sucking us in so s