Benny was proud indeed as he began what unquestionably was, for a person unfamiliar with the locality, a perilous journey.
There was in his mind the knowledge that he wastaking some slight part in the work of life-saving, and that by his making this venture Sam Hardy could remain on duty where he might possibly be of great assistance to those who were in danger.
To push on alone over the rocks, through drifts of snow, beaten and buffeted by the wind, and half blinded by the icy particles, was entirely different from following behind Sam. Previously he had been partially sheltered by the surfman’s body; but now it was necessary to breast the storm alone, and there were many times when he found it literally impossible to proceed, for the wind came in spiteful gusts that nearly threw him from his feet.
Many times did he unconsciously turn aside from the direct course, and when the whistle sounded again he was forced to make a detour in this direction or that, at the cost of many additional steps. Then again it was as if the heavy booming came from all sides, and save for the fact that he remained motionless until the force of the wind lessened, he might have lost his way completely.
Although the air was bitterly cold Benny was hardly aware of the fact; the severe labor of making his way through the drifts and against the blasts warmed his body until he perspired even at the same time that his hands and face were chilled by the frost.
When he came upon the light of the station, suddenly,as it were, it appeared to him as if a full hour must have been spent in the journey, and now that the task was accomplished it seemed impossible he could have continued on five minutes longer.
There was no need for him to explain why he had returned alone. The waiting crew, fearing news of disaster, understood at once that Sam Hardy would not have sent the boy back unless he had grave reasons for doing so, and before Benny could speak Dick Sawyer cried:
“What have you seen, lad?”
Benny understood that his report should be made to the keeper, and, therefore, instead of answering Sawyer’s question, he turned to Mr. Downey, describing what Hardy had seen.
“Off Skinner’s Point, eh?” Downey said as he took from the pegs where it was hanging, his suit of oiled clothing. “How far away?”
“Mr. Hardy said about a mile; but I didn’t see any sign of a vessel, except when the little light showed itself.”
“You’ll need to go on patrol more than once, lad,” Joe Cushing said with a laugh, “before you’ll make much of a fist at seeing a craft a mile away on such a night as this.”
“I’ll get so I can in time, if you allow me to go out on patrol,” Benny replied confidently, and then, turning to the keeper, he added, “Mr. Hardy saidI wasn’t to come back; but if there’s any message you’d like sent him, sir, I’m certain I can carry it.”
“Would you be willing to go through this storm from here to Skinner’s Point when there was no real need of it?”
“If there was a chance I might be of service, I’d be glad to, sir, and, besides, such work as that would be helping me along in learning a surfman’s duties.”
“It seems a cruel thing to do,” Downey said half to himself; “but I’ve a mind to let you go with us.”
“If you only would, sir!”
“What about leavin’ Fluff C. Foster alone? All hands of us, except the cook, must go.”
“Fluff will behave himself, I’m certain, for he doesn’t make any trouble when I tell him he must stay alone.”
“Thaw yourself a bit by the fire while we’re getting the beach-wagon out, and then you shall do your share of the work, unless it so chances we’re forced to launch the boat.”
During this time every member of the crew had been preparing for the arduous labor before him, and the men were in readiness when Keeper Downey led the way toward the door.
Benny had no idea of spending valuable time in front of the fire. He delayed only an instant to petFluff, and whisper in the dog’s ear that it was necessary he remain inside the building quietly.
“You see I’m going to take my first lesson as a surfman, Fluffy, and it’s as much to your interest as mine that I do it, because we’ve got to pay our way somehow, and it can’t always be done by washing dishes and clearing up the house. Now be a good dog, and don’t go outside, for you’d surely get lost in the snow.”
Then Benny replenished the fire, throwing on sufficient coal to keep it glowing several hours at least, and, closing the door behind him lest Fluff should be tempted to disobey his command, joined the men at the door of the boat-room.
Four of the crew were putting the drag-ropes over their shoulders; Joe Cushing and Keeper Downey were at the handles, although had the full crew been present Sam would have occupied the position which was now filled by the keeper, and the latter’s station would have been at the rear of the cart.
“You shall take my place, Benny, which is behind. Don’t exert yourself to push too strongly; but you may pull back the best you know how when we are going downhill.”
“There’ll be little holding back needed through this snow,” Joe said with a cheery laugh, such as he might have indulged in had they been setting out on some pleasure excursion.
Benny had studied a diagram in theRevised Regulations, showing how the beach-wagon should be manned, as given below, therefore knew exactly what were his duties.
He heeded not the excessive labor which was before them in dragging the cart more than half a mile over the rocks and through the snow-drifts, because of the proud satisfaction which was his in thus being allowed to share the duties of the men.
The crew set off at a slow pace. It was reasonable to suppose, however imminent the danger which threatened the schooner, that some considerable time must elapse before they could begin the work of life-saving, and it was necessary to husband their strength because of the difficult and protracted task before them.
Benny asked himself, even as they started, how it would be possible to drag the heavy wagon over the course traversed by the patrol, for he knew that in many places they would be forced to clamber up cliff-like masses of rocks, and again drag the wagonthrough the drifts of snow that under other circumstances would seem impassable.
The crew, however, appeared to give no heed to the difficulties in the way; but set out on this journey which, fatiguing as it must be, was but the beginning of their night of work.
The men pressed forward, dragging the heavy load steadily, but at moderate speed.
Keeper Downey was too good a captain to urge his crew to their utmost efforts at the beginning of the journey, lest he exhaust them before the task was accomplished. He also knew that their services were not needed immediately, otherwise Sam Hardy would have burned another signal, and again, a conclusion much to be desired, the vessel might succeed in working off from the dangerous situation.
“Slow and sure is better than rapid and uncertain,” the keeper shouted cheerily, and Benny was surprised that the crew should appear almost eager for the work, which, under the most favoring circumstances in case the schooner struck, would be severe and attended with great suffering. He shivered as he realized that perhaps soon the clothing of these brave fellows, wet with spray, would be converted into an armor of ice, which they mustwear as best they might on this bitter winter’s night until the task of life-saving was accomplished, or proven to be fruitless.
The cheeriness of the men was by no means allied to mirth. They were setting out, perchance, to battle face to face with death, and realized to the utmost all the dangers and the suffering which awaited them. It could also be told, from a certain manner apparent in all, that their thoughts were with those poor fellows whose craft was drifting on to the cruel rocks, rather than upon the possible labor which might be demanded of them.
Now and then as they paused for an instant, while making ready to haul the wagon over some miniature cliff, one of the crew referred to the anxiety which must be in the hearts of those aboard the schooner, and another expressed satisfaction that the imperilled mariners knew there were on the shore waiting to succor them, men who were provided with every known method for saving life under such circumstances.
All the while as these men spoke one with another evincing anxiety for strangers, they were fighting against the furious wind and driving particles of frost, and even at times, when their way lay near the water’s edge, against the volumes of surf which were flung landward by the angry blasts.
There was no moment when the progress wasother than extremely difficult, and Benny was absolutely obliged at times to allow them to drag him at the tail of the cart, else he would have been left far behind; but yet those brave fellows had not a word, perhaps not a thought, concerning their own labor or peril.
“Half-way to Skinner’s Point!” Joe Cushing shouted as they mounted a hill of brown rock from which the snow had been driven, and stood for a single instant to regain their breath. “Half-way to Skinner’s Point, and no signal from Sam! Who can see the schooner?”
Every eye had been directed seaward when they first gained the elevation, but it was as if the wind drove the snow yet more compactly, and the oldest surfman among them failed to see objects at a distance of fifty feet.
“God help the men who are drifting on to the coast this night!” Keeper Downey muttered, and then added in a cheery tone, “Get on, boys! Get on! You’ll freeze if you stand loitering here, and exercise is what all of us are most needing just now.”
Benny shut his teeth tightly together when, from the movement of the wagon he knew the men were settling forward in the rope harness again, and determined to so husband his strength during the remainder of the journey that when they came to the more difficult portions of the road he might beable to lend some assistance, even though feeble, rather than act the part of a drag on the load.
During fifteen minutes more the men pulled and tugged, straining every muscle to drag the heavily laden wagon over the difficult way, and then as if by common consent another halt was made.
“We should be seeing the schooner by this time, unless she has succeeded in crawling off from the land,” Keeper Downey said, letting go his hold on the cart as he advanced to the edge of the rocky cliffs and looked out over the waters.
No more than five hundred yards in distance lay between them and the dreaded Skinner’s Point, where so many vessels had met their doom, yet the driving snow shut out all save immediate objects from their view.
Nothing had been seen or heard from Sam Hardy, and even the keeper began to believe that possibly the danger had been averted from this particular vessel.
Again Downey gave the word to push on; again the men strained at the ropes and the handle-bar, and again they were advancing on their mission of mercy.
Now no one spoke; each man was too far spent with toil to dare waste breath in cheering his comrades.
Then, and it seemed to Benny as if they had butjust started on this last stage of the journey, a glow was seen dead ahead through the bewildering maze of dancing, whirling snow, and an exclamation of sorrow burst from the lips of every one.
“She has struck, boys, and now we’re to work for their lives!” Keeper Downey shouted, his words causing each member of the crew to leap forward with renewed vigor, as if the knowledge of peril to others had taken from him all sensation of weariness.
Benny understood from these words that the light which had been seen was Sam’s signal telling that the schooner had struck the rocks, and what was much like a fever came over him as he exerted all his puny strength to forcing the wagon-load of life-saving appliances on yet faster.
It was a race between the life savers and death, and by no possibility could they have won had Keeper Downey been so unwise as to push them to their utmost speed when first setting out from the station. Now that the supreme struggle was at hand they had a reserve of strength which bore them on to partial victory.
Just how they finally succeeded in gaining the point where Sam Hardy stood peering intently out over the waste of boiling waters, Benny never knew. The last five minutes of that mad scramble was to him as a dream, in which he was conscious only ofmaking every effort to press forward, lest by faltering he should be deemed unworthy a place among those whom he considered true heroes. He knew, however, that they were come to the spot where the work could be performed, because of hearing Tom Downey cry sharply as each man dropped the harness of rope to run back to the wagon and take up his proper station:
“Stand aside, lad, and make it your business to keep out of the way.”
Benny understood that there was nothing for him to do in the way of lending aid, and realized he could only show that he might be of some service in the future by following the instructions to the letter.
Now had come the moment when the lad could appreciate the value of the drilling which the men were forced to undergo day after day.
Every member of the crew knew exactly what he should do, and did it as methodically and quickly as if on the drill-ground back of the station.
While the captain slung the haversack containing the ammunition over his shoulders, Sam threw the buoy off the cart. Henderson, Jones, and Brown unloaded the shovel, pick, and sand-anchor, and proceeded at once to fasten the latter at a point already decided upon by Mr. Downey. Cushing and Robbins took out the shot-line box. The captain and Hardy placed the cannon a short distanceto the windward of the wagon, and the box was set down on a line with the muzzle of the gun.
The keeper loaded with cartridges, Hardy brought the shot, which he held for the captain to wipe, and then inserted it into the bore of the gun, forcing it down firmly on the charge. Joe Cushing wet a fathom of the shot-line and bent it into the shank of the shot with three half-hitches, without disturbing the fakes, and without leaving any slack line between the gun and the shot-line box.
Hardy and Cushing, kneeling either side of the cannon, trained the muzzle to the right or the left as Downey commanded. While this was being done Sawyer unloaded and carried the crotch (two pieces of wood formed after the fashion of the letter X) to a point near the shore, in a line between the sand anchor and the wreck.
Even Benny, who knew nothing of such labor, understood that many seconds of valuable time must have been saved by the crew being so familiar with all the details of the work, and accustomed to performing each portion of it in like manner every time.
A description of the men at work is given at this moment in order that one may know exactly how a life-saving crew goes to work, and it must not be supposed that Keeper Downey’s men, or even Benny Foster, directed their gaze all the time toward theseoperations, without glancing seaward where was the noble vessel grinding her life out upon the cruel rocks, as her crew looked down into the face of what would have been certain death but for the presence of those brave fellows on the bluff.
When the men halted with the wagon, and even while they were removing the implements, every one could see the schooner as she lay not more than a hundred and fifty yards from the shore, heading directly toward them.
So large was she, and with her sails holding back, as it were, much of the snow, even Benny could distinguish her quite distinctly, and while his comrades labored as do men who work in defence of their lives, he saw portions of rail and deck torn off piece-meal by the waves which were striking sledge-hammer blows against the side of the doomed craft, each one sounding, even above the howling of the blasts, like the booming of a cannon.
Seven men could be made out now and then when the snow wreaths were less dense, in various places of refuge about the wreck; three were aloft in the port mizzen-rigging, one in the port fore-rigging, and three about the forecastle, or in the bowsprit. In these positions they remained apparently immovable. It was to Benny as if they were frozen beyond the power of movement, as indeed might have been the case, for the night was bitterly cold.
So near the shore did the wreck lay that it seemed impossible Downey could miss his aim.
Benny heard Joe Cushing say:
“With five ounces of powder and a No. 9 shot-line bent on, there should be no trouble in opening communication with those poor fellows.”
Then the keeper had adjusted the piece and pulled the lanyard.
Benny saw a tongue of flame leap out from the mouth of the gun, and as the shot sped through the air, the line, so carefully laid in the faking-box, uncoiled length by length, until suddenly and without apparent cause it parted.
The shot sped on; but fully two thirds of the line remained in the box.
In the shortest possible space of time, and without unnecessary words, the cannon was reloaded with the same amount of powder and the same-sized line as before.
Once more appeared the tongue of flame. In the midst of it the lad, who hardly breathed because of his excitement, saw the missile as it sped onward true to its aim, dragging after it length upon length of thin line which unloosed from the box in the most perfect fashion, and then a loud cry of triumph went up from the brave fellows who had expended so much labor to aid the unfortunate mariners.
Even in the gloom and amid the falling snow onecould see that narrow, black thread as it lay fairly across the wreck just forward of the mizzen-rigging, and within easy reach of the sailors in the vicinity; but yet no one of that imperiled crew left his place of refuge to seize upon it.
Just for an instant the life savers on the shore stood in amazement. They had laid to hand a means of escape, and yet those who were so near death had not moved a finger toward availing themselves of the opportunity.
“They are most likely frozen into helplessness,” Keeper Downey cried. “Let’s give them one more line, boys, and this time we’ll send it farther forward. There must be some one on that schooner who can help himself, as least so far as to haul in the rope.”
Rapidly as the life savers worked before, they moved yet more quickly now that it was understood those whom they would rescue were so nearly unable to aid themselves.
It seemed to Benny as if he had no more than time to count ten before the third faking-box had been brought from the wagon, and the gun was reloaded, re-aimed, and discharged.
Again he saw the narrow black line amid the white, drifting snow. Again a cry of triumph went up from those whom he called his comrades, and this time the line lay directly across the deck of theschooner just abaft the fore-rigging, where the sailor on the port side might reach it without so much as leaving his station.
After five seconds, perhaps, this man, whose garments had almost been brushed by the line-carrying shot, made no motion, and then slowly, as if it required all his strength to move so much as a finger, the unfortunate sailor stretched forth his hand until he grasped that narrow cord which alone remained between him and death.
“He can’t haul it in!” Sam Hardy cried in dismay. “It’s more than he can do to raise his arm.”
If the crew of the schooner could not second the efforts of the life savers, then indeed were they not rescued, for no man might get through that surf from the shore to the schooner, and the life-boat could not be used because of shallow water and rocks.
Every man on the bluff shouted words of encouragement which could not be heard by those for whom they were intended; but it seemed impossible to remain quiet while the half-dead sailors stood within reach of help, and yet were unable to grasp it.
It was to Benny as if a full hour passed, although in fact perhaps not more than three or four minutes elapsed before the man in the fore-rigging succeeded in thrashing his arms together, most likely to breakthe ice which, forming over his garments, encased him as if in bonds of iron, and then, slowly at first, but more rapidly as the seconds passed, he succeeded in recovering the use of his limbs until he reached down and caught up the line.
Now it was a shout of triumph which went up from those on the bluff, and the anxious lad who was bending forward over the very edge of the rocks believed the sailor heard the cry, for it was as if something suddenly animated him. He began hauling in on this means of escape from the angry waters as he turned his head toward those in the mizzen-rigging, evidently urging them to come to his assistance.
Each instant was fraught with danger for those upon the wreck. Plank by plank the schooner was being torn to pieces by the irresistible force of the towering waves, and it needed not that one should be versed in such matters to understand that before many moments passed one or all of the spars must go by the board.
Now that the sailor on the wreck was hauling in the shot-line, the crew set about making the necessary arrangements for sending aboard the hawser, and before this had been completed Benny shouted, although speaking to no one in particular:
“The men in the mizzen-rigging are coming down! They are going to help themselves!”
It was as the lad had said, for soon all save two on the forecastle were hauling on the tackle which was made fast to the shot-line, and in perhaps ten minutes from the time the last missile was fired across the deck of the wreck, the sailors had succeeded in attaching the tail-block to the mainmast.
Now even Benny could be of assistance in manning the whip to haul the breeches-buoy out to the ship.
As the lad saw the buoy appearing and disappearing amid the waves, but continuing rapidly on toward the wreck, a great joy came into his heart, and he realized then, if never before, the wondrous pleasure which must come to those who succeed in saving lives after a desperate battle.
When the buoy reached the wreck those ashore saw a man step into it, and then came the command:
“Man the lee whip! Haul ashore!”
Now the life savers were working to economizetime. Every second must be utilized if that crew of seven was to be brought ashore before the schooner should have been torn to pieces.
Anxious though Benny was, and fearful lest they should not succeed in getting even one ashore, the breeches-buoy appeared to be moving swiftly, as indeed was the case, for every man of the crew, tailing on the whip, was working as only men can under similar circumstances.
The first of the rescued was well-nigh helpless after gaining the shore, and now had come the time when Benny might be of some assistance.
“Let me take care of him, sir, and it will save a man’s labor when you need all hands at the whip,” the lad said as Keeper Downey approached, and the latter replied with a ring of cheeriness in his tones which had not been heard since the work began:
“Here’s where you’ll come in handy, lad. Roust that fellow about; don’t let him remain quiet, for he must keep the blood circulating.”
Then the weather whip was manned, and the buoy forced out toward the wreck to receive another passenger. In again was it hauled, and two lives had been saved.
“Man the weather whip! Haul out!”
The third had taken his place in the breeches-buoy.
“Man the lee whip! Haul ashore!”
The third had been saved.
And so went on the work while the tempest howled and raged; the snow wreathed and whirled as if to blind the life savers, and the sea roared and bellowed at losing its prey; but in time—in a comparatively short time—six were ashore, and only one remained upon the quivering vessel which was now hardly more than a hulk, so sadly had the sea battered and torn it.
For the last time the buoy was being run out, and more than half the distance had been traversed when suddenly, and without warning, the mizzen-mast went by the board, carrying with it the mainmast.
As the second spar fell, communication between the life savers and this poor fellow for whom they were battling, was broken; but almost while the disaster was taking place Tom Downey had sprung to the gun for the purpose of sending out another shot-line, when a cry of horror went up—a crash was heard even above the howling of the tempest, and the foremast had fallen.
Now it was that Benny witnessed a scene of heroism such as is seldom heard about, although often performed—heroism that is displayed during the winter’s tempests on our rock-bound coasts, in the presence of those who themselves are heroes.
When the last spar fell he who remained upon the wreck was seen to leap from the port-rail beyondthe raffle of spars and cordage which dashed to and fro alongside, and Sam Hardy cried with a tone of admiration in his sturdy voice:
“That fellow has got grit, and will fight well for his life! See him strike out!”
The man was swimming bravely in the icy waters, and every member of the crew, who an instant before despaired of being able to save him, now began to hope that through his own exertions the task might be accomplished.
The surf was dashing a hundred feet up the side of the cliff, and the water ’twixt the schooner and the shore so filled with wreckage that it seemed as if the swimmer must be torn to pieces ere he could take a dozen strokes, but yet now and then, as the billows raised him on high, it could be seen that he was holding his own—that he was making headway toward the shore.
It needed no word of command from Tom Downey to send every member of his crew into the foaming waters, and there, with a line stretched from one to the other, the entire seven formed a chain; with Sam Hardy at the outermost end, all buried under each succeeding wave, but yet pressing outward in the hope of being able to clutch the gallant swimmer before he should become exhausted.
Finally it seemed as if the man had gained a foothold on the rocks, for he apparently stood in thewater knee-deep one single instant, and then a receding sea, lifting him from his footing, hurled him backward toward the hulk from which he had escaped.
“Give me more rope!” Sam Hardy shouted, and Benny stifled the cry of fear which came to his lips as he saw the gallant surfman swimming out to meet the half-drowned sailor.
Then an incoming sea caught up the man who had made such a desperate struggle for life, bore him shoreward again until he was within twenty feet of Hardy, when one of the schooner’s spars, rearing up in the water as if raised by some giant hand, descended upon the struggling wretch, crushing out his life as it forced him down to the bottom of the sea.
During the work of rescue Benny was fully employed, according to instructions received from Keeper Downey, in ministering to those who had been brought on shore.
The clothing of the men was water-soaked, as a matter of course, and very shortly after gaining the shore these saturated garments were frozen stiff. Therefore it was necessary that the rescued be kept moving to and fro as rapidly as possible, and when one or another, exhausted by previous exposure, would have succumbed to the drowsiness which precedes death by freezing, Benny urged him to walk about, employing threats when entreaties were of no avail.
Immediately after the brave sailor had met his death Keeper Downey called sharply for Benny, and when the lad stood before him, asked:
“Are you willing to make another try at finding the station, lad?”
“Yes, indeed, sir?”
“The rescued men should be able to get there under your guidance more quickly than by remaining with us. If you can keep your wits in this smother of snow, set out, and see to it that every man moves at his best pace. The fog-horn will give you the direction. Once you have arrived oblige the men to strip off their frozen garments, and supply them with dry clothing. I am trusting you to take all six of them in, Benny, and it isn’t impossible one or more, half-dazed as they are, may refuse to move as rapidly as is necessary, therefore you must keep a sharp lookout.”
“Shall I go now, sir?”
“Be off as quickly as you can,” Tom Downey replied, and Benny noted with pride that the keeper turned immediately away to attend to the reloading of the beach-wagon, a fact which, to the lad’s mind, proved that he was trusted implicitly.
“You are to come with me,” Benny said, going to where the rescued men were tramping round-about in a circle, threshing their arms together to keep up the circulation of blood. “Mr. Downey says you must be kept moving at full speed, and since I’m not big enough to carry out the orders if there’s any kick made, your captain ought to see that there is no loitering.”
“Our captain was the last to leave the schooner,and you know he did not gain the shore,” one of the men replied, his voice choking with emotion. “I’m the mate, however, and you’ll find we can obey orders. A man would be a poor stick who didn’t carry out any instructions given by those who have met death more than half-way to save him.”
“I’m not very certain of the road, but if we follow the sound of the fog-horn we’ll come out near the station, and we’d best get off now, else Mr. Downey will think we’re loafing.”
“Strike out, an’ we’ll keep at your heels,” the mate replied, and, trusting to this promise, Benny set off, bending low to protect his face from the pitiless lashing of the snow.
Very proud was the boy at having been given this share in the labor of rescue, and when the way was difficult, or the elements beat him back, he repeated to himself again and again that if this duty should be performed worthily he would most likely be entrusted with others as occasion might arise.
The journey to the station was simply a repetition of the one made after the schooner was first sighted, except that on this occasion he had companionship, and his mind was taken from the difficulties of the way in a great measure by the responsibility which had been put upon him.
The mate urged the crew to keep pace withBenny, but every man among them found it more difficult to press on than did the lad; yet the hinder-most was no more than a dozen yards in the rear when the guide gained the door of the station and was welcomed by the shrill barking of Fluff, who had distinguished his master’s footsteps even above the howling of the gale.
Since theAmazoniasailed from Calcutta this was the first time the tiny dog had been left alone, and the welcome he gave Benny was so vigorous that it seemed as if the noise would shake his tiny body into fragments.
“Be a good dog, Fluff, and wait just a little bit till I get dry clothes for the men. I’m just as glad to see you as you are to see me, but while there’s work to be done we mustn’t spend time telling each other about it.”
The dog danced and capered and barked at Benny’s heels as he went back and forth from the store-room to where the sailors were gathered around the glowing fire, and it was much as if he fancied himself assisting in the labor—as if Fluff also counted on being a surfman.
The cook, who had retired before the crew set out, now came down to perform his regular share of the work in such cases, which was to make a fresh supply of coffee and prepare a meal for the exhausted men.
Benny had faithfully carried out the instructions given him by the keeper, and there was nothing more he could do until the crew should return, when he knew full well his services would be welcomed gladly by the weary, half-frozen life savers.
The mate was disposed to indulge in conversation, and after having drank a bowl of hot coffee, he told the lad that the schooner which was being torn to pieces on Skinner’s Point was theThree Brothers, coal-laden, from Philadelphia to Portland. At noon on that day, so low did the temperature fall that ice had formed about the craft until she was unmanageable, and during five hours had been driven at the mercy of wind and waves.
“Knowing the schooner was bound to go ashore, we hoped it might be in the vicinity of where she did strike.”
“But why did you want her wrecked there? It seems to me a worse place couldn’t be found.”
“We knew there was a life-saving station near, and when the red glare of the Coston signal flashed out through the snow, all hands understood that a crew of good men and true stood ready to do whatsoever lay in their power to give us aid. I answered that signal, and then ran over in my mind the instructions which the service sends out to every ship-master and mate.”
“What kind of instructions?” Benny asked,showing by the expression on his face that this information was something entirely new to him.
“If you care to find out, you will find a small, black, water-proofed book, something like a note-case, in the pocket of the coat I took off, and there everything is set down so plainly any sailor can understand what should be done when the life-saving crew appears. But you here in the station should know all about it.”
“I haven’t been here but a day or two,” Benny replied gravely. “I was on the shipAmazoniawhen she went ashore only a short distance from this building.”
“Then you know what it is to see these men come to your assistance. How many were saved from the ship, lad?”
“No one but me,” Benny replied, turning away quickly lest the mate should see the tears in his eyes, and in order to avoid further questioning he went in search of the book mentioned.
“It’s the only thing in my pocket, lad,” the mate cried, understanding, perhaps, why Benny professed such eagerness to see the instructions. “I took it from my berth when it seemed certain theThree Brotherswas doomed. Give me the book, and I’ll read that part of the printed matter which most interests us sailors.”
After searching over the sodden clothing, which hehad carefully hung on pegs behind the stove, Benny found a tiny book and brought it to the mate, who read as one does who wishes to refresh his memory:
“‘The patrolman, after discovering your vessel ashore and burning a Coston signal, hastens to his station for assistance. If the use of a boat is practicable, either the large life-boat is launched from its ways in the station and proceeds to the wreck by water, or the lighter surf-boat is hauled overland to a point opposite the wreck and launched, as circumstances may require.
“‘Upon the boat reaching your vessel, the directions and orders of the keeper (who always commands and steers the boat) should be implicitly obeyed. Any headlong rushing and crowding should be prevented, and the captain of the vessel should remain on board, to preserve order, until every other person has left.
“‘Women, children, helpless persons, and passengers should be passed into the boat first.
“‘Goods or baggage will positively not be taken into the boat until all are landed. If any be passed in against the keeper’s remonstrance he is fully authorized to throw the same overboard.
“‘Should it be inexpedient to use either the life-boat or surf-boat, recourse will be had to the wreck-gun and beach-apparatus for the rescue by the breeches-buoy or the life-car.
“‘A shot with a small line attached will be fired across your vessel.
“‘Get hold of the line as soon as possible and haul on board until you get a tail-block with a whip or endless line rove through it. This tail-block should be hauled on board as quickly as possible to prevent the whip drifting off with the set, or fouling with wreckage, etc. Therefore, if you have been driven into the rigging, where but one or two men can work to advantage, cut the shot-line and run it through some available block, such as the throat or peak-halliards block, or any block which will afford a clear lead, or even between the ratlines, that as many as possible may assist in the hauling.
“‘Attached to the tail-block will be a tally-board with the following directions in English on one side and French on the other:
“‘Make the tail of the block fast to the lower mast, well up. If the masts are gone, then to the best place you can find. Cast off the shot-line, see that the rope in the block runs free, and show a signal to the shore.
“‘As soon as your signal is seen a three-inch hawser will be bent on to the whip and hauled off to your ship by the life-saving crew.
“‘If the circumstances will admit, you can assist the life-saving crew by manning that part of the whip to which the hawser is bent, and hauling with them.
“‘When the end of the hawser is got on board a tally-board will be found attached, bearing the following directions in English on one side and French on the other:
“‘Make this hawser fast about two feet above the tail-block, see all clear and that the rope in the block runs free, and show a signal to the shore.
“‘Take particular care that there are no turns of the whip-line around the hawser. To prevent this take the end of the hawser up between the parts of the whip before making it fast.
“‘When the hawser is made fast, the whip cast off from the hawser, and your signal seen by the life-saving crew, they will haul the hawser taut and by means of the whip will haul off to your ship a breeches-buoy suspended from a traveller-block, or a life-car from rings, running on the hawser.
“‘If the breeches-buoy be sent, let one man immediately get into it, thrusting his legs through the breeches. If the life-car, remove the hatch, place as many persons into it as it will hold, and secure the hatch on the outside by the hatch-bar and hook, signal as before, and the buoy or car will be hauled ashore.
“‘In many instances two men can be landed in the breeches-buoy at the same time by each putting a leg through a leg of the breeches and holding on to the lifts of the buoy.
“‘Children, when brought ashore by the buoy, should be in the arms of older persons, or securely lashed to the buoy. Women and children should be landed first.
“‘Circumstances may arise, owing to the strength of the current or set, or the danger of the wreck breaking up immediately, when it would be impossible to send off the hawser. In such case a breeches-buoy or life-car will be hauled off instead by the whip, or sent off to you by the shot-line, and you will be hauled ashore through the surf.
“‘If your vessel is stranded during the night and discovered by the patrolman, which you will know by his burning a brilliant red light, keep a bright lookout for signs of the arrival of the life-saving crew abreast your vessel.
“‘From one to four hours may intervene between the burning of the light and their arrival, as the patrolman will have to return to his station, perhaps three or four miles distant, and the life-saving crew draw the apparatus or surf-boat through the sand or over bad roads to where your vessel is stranded.
“‘Lights on the beach will indicate their arrival, and the sound of cannon-firing from the shore may be taken as evidence that a line has been fired across your vessel. Therefore, upon hearing the cannon, make strict search aloft, fore, and aft, for the shot-line, for it is almost certain to be there. Thoughthe movements of the life-saving crew may not be perceptible to you, owing to the darkness, your ship will be a good mark for the men experienced in the use of the wreck-gun, and the first shot seldom fails.’”
The mate had read thus far, Benny listening intently to every word, when the sound of voices outside, and the opening of the boat-room door, told that the crew had returned.
Fluff greeted the men with his shrill barking, and Benny laid out dry clothing for each one, an attention which was fully appreciated, as could be told by the exclamations of satisfaction and of pleasure uttered by the weary crew as they entered the mess-room.
The shipwrecked men greeted their rescuers with the liveliest protestations of gratitude, and Tom Downey replied, even while Benny was pounding his coat with a broomstick in order to so break the ice that the keeper could take it off:
“We’ve only done what the Government hires us for, mates, an’ our extra pay comes in when we’re able to save lives, as in this case. I’d feel that the night was more of a success if we hadn’t lost a life; but we ashore couldn’t say how weak the spars had grown under the pounding of the waves.”
“When the first line came aboard I thought wewere doomed because it would be impossible to help ourselves,” the mate replied. “For a time it seemed as if my arms were frozen stiff, and but for the knowledge that death would come in a very few moments unless something could be done to second your efforts, I believe of a verity I should have died where I stood.”
Then the sailors began relating their personal experiences, and soon the rescuers were before the glowing fire while the cook and Benny passed around coffee or food, with Fluff sitting bolt upright apparently listening intently to every word.
The two whose duty it was to go on patrol could not be excused, however excessive the labor just performed. The storm was still raging furiously, and theThree Brothersmight not be the only craft in peril on the coast that night.
Robbins and Sawyer remained in the cheery mess-room no longer than was absolutely necessary, and then they went out into the howling storm to walk the long beats on which might be found more work for the crew which had already done such brave duty.
Keeper Downey ordered Benny to bed, accompanying the command with words that gave the lad most sincere pleasure:
“You’ve done as good work, accordin’ to your experience, as any man among us, Benjamin, an’ we’re proud of you.”
Sam Hardy nodded his approval of this praise, and Benny, with Fluff C. Foster in his arms, went up-stairs to bed feeling that he would be willing to brave almost any danger in order to earn another compliment equal to that.
When the amateur surfman awakened next morning the sun was shining brightly, and, save for the roaring of the surf, nothing told of the furious tempest which had so lately raged.
The cook had already gone down-stairs, and Benny dressed himself hurriedly, for he was not pleased at the prospect of being late at his post of duty.
“I counted on your waking Fluff and me,” he said reproachfully as he entered the kitchen. “We were up so late——”
“That’s exactly the reason why I sneaked down-stairs on the quiet. After last night’s work you should have had a long nap, instead of being down here before the fire is fairly going.”
“We didn’t do enough to hurt us,” Benny replied with a laugh, “and surely we must be needed this morning, when there are so many mouths to feed.”
“I’ve had a bigger family than this many a time, an’ got through with the work alone, but since you’ve been so foolish as to turn out, I’ll be glad of your help, for a handy lad like you makes the job a light one.”
“It seems as if I was getting praised all around,” Benny said with a laugh as he made his toilet. “Pretty soon you’ll be finding out that I don’t deserve it.”
“I hope not, lad, for all hands of us are getting a good bit of satisfaction out of you and the dog.”
Benny was kept busy in the kitchen a greater portion of the succeeding forty-eight hours, and then the shipwrecked sailors were sent to the neighboring city, after which the crew at the station settled down to the old routine of drill and patrol, every man looking forward eagerly to the reply from headquarters regarding their request in the boy’s behalf.
Sam Hardy and Joe Cushing had taken it upon themselves to teach Maje that Fluff was entitled to the liberty of the station grounds, and, at the expense of considerable time, and much loss of temper on the part of Maje, the lesson was so nearly learned that the big dog allowed the little one to go here and there without interference, but Benny did not trust wholly to appearances.
“It won’t do any harm if I keep my eye on Fluff when he goes out,” the lad said gravely after Sam Hardy had suggested that there was no longer any good reason for being suspicious of Maje. “Of course your dog is bound to be jealous for a spell,and till he gets over it I wouldn’t want to trust Fluff alone with him very long at a time.”
Both Sam and Joe were positive Maje could be depended upon to behave himself, and appeared eager Benny should allow matters to take their natural course, so far as the two animals were concerned, therefore the boy permitted Fluff to go out of doors whenever he was so disposed; but he was careful to first make certain that Maje was not in the immediate vicinity.
It was nearly sunset on the day the shipwrecked mariners had been conveyed to the city. There was not a cloud in the sky, and the sea was so calm that it was almost difficult to believe it could ever be aroused to a roaring fury.
The lookout on day-duty had come down to the station for supper, and the two whose time for patrol began at sunset were already eating the evening meal that they might be ready to set out at the exact moment.
Benny had been assisting the cook as usual, but was now waiting upon the men who were about to go on patrol.
Fluff, ten minutes previous, had whined for permission to go out of doors for a stroll, and, after learning that Maje was in the oil-room, where he usually found a shelter during exceedingly cold or stormy weather, Benny opened the door for his pet.
So white was Fluff, thanks to his master’s custom of giving him a bath every other day, that it was almost impossible to distinguish him in the gloom of early twilight while he remained on the snow, and Benny lost sight of him before he had gone a hundred feet from the building.
Then he was called by one of the men, and while attending to whatever trifling duty had been set him, it was observed that the boy appeared anxious.
“What’s the matter, Benjamin?” Sam Hardy asked. “Anything wrong with Mr. Fluff C. Foster?”
“I hope not, sir; but he disappeared so soon after leaving the house that I’m wondering if he didn’t get into the oil-room.”
“I reckon not, else we’d heard something from Maje before this. I’m goin’ out, though, an’ will look after him.”
Sam opened the door as he spoke, and at that instant Fluff could be heard in the distance, barking shrilly.
Benny leaped to his feet and ran toward the door, calling the dog by name.
From the noise it could be told that Fluff came nearer the building in obedience to the summons, and then stopped, yelping and barking as if in dire distress.
“Come here, sir! Come this minute!” Bennycried peremptorily, and to the surprise of all, for the dog usually obeyed readily, the yelping increased as Fluff retreated from the house.
Benny ran after him, and Sam Hardy followed quickly, as if he believed something serious was the cause of the animal’s disobedience.
The remainder of the crew stood near the open door curiously, and after a brief interval they heard Benny calling yet more peremptorily to the dog, when for reply the yelping was changed to most dismal howls.
“Maje shall have a sound flogging if he has dared to touch that little fellow!” Keeper Downey said threateningly as he took up his cap to leave the building, and just at that instant the crew were startled by hearing Sam Hardy shout:
“Man overboard! Out with the surf-boat!”
Members of a life-saving crew never stop to question a statement of such a nature as that made by their comrade.
Every man sprang to the boat-room door, and the surf-boat was outside the building ready for launching by the time Sam came up, breathless with rapid running, but not excited.
“Beyond the Horseshoe!” he cried, taking his proper station with the others, and in what to a stranger would have seemed an incredibly short space of time the light craft was in the water, leapingfrom wave to wave under the impetus given by three pairs of oars.
The “Horseshoe” was a circular reef which made out from the main shore five or six hundred yards from the station, and the cook ran with all speed across the bluff, with the idea that he might arrive there in advance of the boat.
His legs were no match for the life savers’ arms, however, and when he gained the cliff which overlooked the reef the crew were dragging the body of a man over the surf-boat’s rail, while a light gunning-skiff, overturned, a short distance away, was sufficient evidence as to the cause of the disaster.
“Some greenhorn out here alone, sneaking along the shore hoping to bag a few ducks just at sunset, has come near paying dearly for the sport,” the cook muttered in an angry tone. “After two or three more accidents of the same kind, sportsmen from the city will begin to understand, I hope, that such fun is dangerous.”
It was the third mishap of a similar nature that season, and in one case the venturesome hunter had lost his life, therefore the cook might well be excused for losing his temper over such carelessness.
When he returned to the station the half-drowned man had been carried into the building, but he still retained sufficient consciousness to understand howhis rescue had been brought about, and the cook heard him say to Tom Downey:
“If it hadn’t been for your toy dog I should have drowned, for I’d swallowed so much salt water that it was impossible to make a very loud noise.”
“Yes, I reckon you can set it down as a fact that Fluff C. Foster saved your life, mister, and from this out he, as well as his master, is a member of this ’ere crew if I can bring it about!” Joe Cushing said emphatically, as he emptied fully half the contents of the sugar-bowl into a saucer and gave it to Fluff, who was dancing to and fro, wagging his white tail furiously, as if calling attention to the fact that even a “toy” dog might be of some service in the world.