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TWENTY YEARS UNDER THE SEA
occasionally I could see the bulk of the Jules Verne loom near our sloop. All moorings were in confusion for now we were pulling on our anchors in almost the opposite direction from what we were when the storm started. Again and again, through the milky scud of rain and sea the dark bulk of the Jules Verne would ride dangerously close to our sloop. There were two alternatives, either someone would have to swim to the Jules Verne, let go the anchor-line that was pulling it close to us or, as the vessels came together, we could jump for it. It would be a wild leap to try to land on the deck of the Jules Verne and broken legs or arms might result, yet it might be the one way out, for if the boats collided, ours, being the frailer of the two, would be the first to sink. However, I decided on the first plan, and awoke Zimmerman, and with the aid of the coloured boy we got to the deck again after I had fastened all of the available small rope to him for a life-line. Now he was ready to go. With the coil of rope in my hands I watched for the ominous bulk of the Jules Verne to come near again. Zimmerman was gone. Only a master swimmer could have lived through that turmoil, and soon Zimmerman was lost to me completely except for the feel on the rope as I let it run out. Soon I got to the last few feet. If he went much farther I would have to begin pulling him back. By now the vessels had swung far apart. He might miss making it. I didn't dare pull him back. The
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