The Life Savers: A story of the United States life-saving service Page 2

  CHAPTER II.

  A BOY AND A DOG.

  It was on the afternoon of December 23d, in the year 1893, that one ofthe life-saving crews in the First District was completely prepared forwork, although neither vessel nor wreck was to be seen.

  The wind was from the northeast and the driving sleet and snow shut outfrom view all that portion of the rocky coast save in the immediatevicinity of the station. During the afternoon the gale had increased inforce until it was what a mariner would call "stiff"; the sea had risenwith equal pace, and every indication confirmed the prediction madeamong the surfmen, that an ugly winter storm was at hand.

  At such a time the gallant life-saving crews along the coast are everready for, and expecting, the signal which calls them to their perilouswork; but not ordinarily do they stand by their apparatus as on thisafternoon, for, fortunately, many a winter tempest fails in its harvestof death.

  At noon on this day information was sent to the station that thepatrol several miles down the coast had sighted a large ship so nearlyinshore that, under the adverse condition of wind and sea, she couldnot tack, and there was not sufficient room to wear. Unless her coursewas speedily changed, so ran the information received,--and in theteeth of the fierce northeast tempest and the shoreward heaving of thetremendous sea that seemed impossible,--it was certain she must strikesomewhere nearabout this particular station.

  From the moment such information was received the patrol on the beachhad been doubled, and, knowing full well how difficult it would be,under all the circumstances, for any craft to escape the perils towhich it was said this ship was exposed, the crew were keenly on thealert for the first token of wreck.

  At seven o'clock in the evening no further news of the vessel had beenobtained; therefore the men whose mission it is to save life understoodthat the ship was still fighting against the gale, and knew full wellevery moment gained by her increased the chances of escape, even thoughit had seemed impossible she could weather the point.

  Half an hour later Surfman Samuel Hardy, breathless and panting,literally burst his way into the station, as he cried:

  "Joe Cushing has just lighted his signal!"

  All members of life-saving crews carry, while patrolling the shore onthe lookout for signs of danger to others, what is known as a "Costonsignal," an ingenious contrivance which can be lighted by concussion,and, therefore, may be displayed regardless of the weather.

  No further information was necessary; the crew knew full well that theship previously reported as being in peril, and which had made such agallant fight against the elements, had at last been conquered.

  Before Sam Hardy could take his station at the beach-wagon, in which istransported all the apparatus necessary for the work of the crew when awreck is close inshore, Joseph Cushing arrived:

  "She has struck just off the west spit!"

  "Then it is the ship?" Keeper Thomas Downey asked; and before thequestion could be answered he gave in rapid succession the ordersnecessary for beginning the work of rescue.

  "Open boat-room doors!"

  "Man the beach-wagon!"

  "Forward!"

  These commands were superfluous, for the crew, after long experience atsuch work, both during tempests when human life was to be saved, and atdrill in fair weather, moved as if by instinct.

  The last word had no more than been spoken before the heavy wagonrolled down the platform to the sand, every man fully aware of thefact that now had come the time when the span of many lives might bemeasured by seconds if they faltered or delayed.

  From the official report is taken the following account of the disaster:

  "It appears that the ship had been laboring heavily, the wind constantly heading her off after nightfall, and the master, although he kept up a stout heart, must have been well aware that he was constantly losing more and more of the narrow margin that lay between possible safety and inevitable destruction. Whatever misgivings the crew may have experienced, the survivor states that the first intimation they had of their immediate proximity to the shore was when they saw the breakers, and the captain, who was below at the moment, rushed on deck with the ominous outcry, 'She has struck!'

  "The boats were still on the bridge where they had been originally stowed for the voyage, their covers and lashings intact and the tackles unhooked, but Captain Clark instantly gave the order to clear them away, and, together with the men, set about the work. The ship lay with her starboard side to the waves, which the next instant lifted her farther shoreward and then fell crashing on board.

  "The most of the sailors fled to the mizzen shrouds, but a few, more daring or desperate than the rest, still struggled to clear the boats.

  "Another run of towering breakers was now about to leap on board, and the brave men were compelled to give over and quickly join their shipmates in the rigging. At this moment the red glare of the patrolman's signal gleamed through the darkness, and a cheer broke forth from the shipwrecked men.

  "Up to this time the master had found no difficulty in controlling the movements of the crew, who appear to have been able and obedient sailors; but now there was no longer any occasion for the exercise of authority, and in the dreadful situation it behooved every man to look out for himself.

  "Within ten minutes from the flash of the signal the great iron hull parted amidships, and the mainmast toppled over, carrying with it the mizzen-topmast. The entire ship's company, except the captain, were at this time in the mizzen-rigging, where they were able to hold on only a few minutes, when all were washed overboard together. The captain, when last seen was standing on the ladder at the quarter-deck, supporting himself with a hand on each rail.

  "The beach-apparatus was on the ground and ready for service; but the ship was only now and then faintly visible, and there was little reason to believe the crew's efforts would be of any avail.

  "However, the gun was aimed as well as possible in the direction of the wreck, which was discernible only as a black shadow that seemed a little darker than the surrounding gloom, and the shot was fired.

  "That the line fell across the hulk there is no reason to doubt. That it lodged with considerable firmness somewhere was conclusive to the keeper in charge, for it resisted the slight strain put upon it to determine whether it was fast, but no pull or manipulation on the offshore end could be detected, and after waiting in vain some considerable time for that always welcome sign that the line has been found by the shipwrecked, the life-savers hauled hard on it until it finally parted under the heavy strain.

  "The keeper was now satisfied that there was no living being on board the wreck. Nothing could be accomplished by additional efforts to effect communication by means of the gun, and the fury of the surf was so overwhelming that none of the men, familiar as they were with the conditions, of long experience on the coast, and brave as they had often proved themselves, even so much as entertained the thought of launching the boat. It was out of question, absolutely and beyond all possibility of cavil. The slatting of the distant sails is described as sounding like peals of thunder, and the crashing of blocks and chains as they were flung back and forth against the wire rigging and iron foremast, sent out volumes of blazing sparks that seemed like signals of distress.

  "It is the custom on occasions of this kind to build a fire on the shore as a beacon of hope to encourage the shipwrecked, and although there was believed to be nobody on the vessel, this would nevertheless have been done, if possible. But the gale blew with such force that a fire could not be maintained, and, indeed, so terrific was its fury that the polished glass lantern on the beach-apparatus cart was converted into a good specimen of ground glass by the incessant beating of the driven sand upon its surface.

  "Now and then a red signal was discharged to attract the
attention of any poor fellow who might be washed ashore alive, and a faithful search-patrol was maintained along the beach by the entire crew."

  That portion of the shore upon which the wind and the current wouldmost likely cast up fragments of the wreck was thickly dotted withevery available lantern from the station in the hope that these tinyrays of light might serve as beacons for some sailor whose life had notbeen crushed out of him by the fury of the surf, and with eager eyesthe men peered into the foaming swirl of waters.

  Five minutes passed, and no sign either of life or death came from thewreck.

  "There is little chance the breath will yet remain in any who comesashore now," Keeper Downey said to Joe Cushing, and the latter repliedonly with a mournful shake of the head, for it did not seem possibleany living thing could come through that mighty surge.

  The words had no more than been spoken, however, when far away in thedistance could be heard the cry of Sam Hardy, and without being able todistinguish the words, those who heard knew from the tone that he hadsighted life in some form.

  All the crew ran that way in hot haste, the keeper leading, andarriving at the spot just as Hardy, all regardless of his own life, hadplunged waist-deep into the surf that he might seize upon a short sparto which was lashed a dark mass.

  None save those who had been trained to the duty of saving lifeunder such circumstances would have recognized the possibility thata human being might be concealed beneath what appeared to be onlyvalueless wreckage; but the crew knew by long experience that amid thisparticular flotsam would be found, either alive or dead, some one fromthe ill-fated ship.

  As Hardy had dashed into the surf so did the others, until a livingchain had been formed, and by this means the spar was pulled on shoredespite the heavy undertow which strove with giant force against theefforts of the life-savers.

  Once the wreckage was beyond reach of the towering, roaring waves, fewseconds were spent in learning whether the men had, by risking theirown lives, saved a human being from death, or if it was but a corpsewhich had been wrested from the angry waters.

  From amid wrappings of what appeared to be the fragment of a sail wasseen the head of a child; the face was pallid as if death had alreadyset its seal upon it, and not so much as a tremor of the lips could bedistinguished in the faint light cast by the lanterns.

  The cold was searching; the garments of the crew were alreadystiffening with ice, and if life was to be prevented from leaving thatsmall body, all efforts must be made within the shelter of the station.

  Acting upon the keeper's orders, the little form was released fromthe bonds of rope which held it fast to the spar, and with all speedcarried to the building where could be found everything needful forthe coming struggle against death.

  It was a small boy, apparently ten or twelve years of age, who hadbeen rescued, and as the kindly men with tender care removed the icyclothing, they were startled, almost alarmed for the moment, by seeinga very small dog, his long white hair soaked with water, leap frombeneath the lad's tightly buttoned pea-jacket.

  The animal shook itself, looked quickly around with a low whine,and, recognizing the boy, began eagerly licking his face, as ifunderstanding that immediate aid of some kind was necessary.

  The members of the crew had lost no time in taking such measures aswere needful, and although the small dog growled furiously when theyrolled the boy face downward, having previously laid him upon the floorof the station, the efforts at resuscitation were both skilful andvigorous.

  Before the work had fairly begun the lad showed signs of life byopening his eyes, and his first glance fell upon the dog, which wasstanding near by, wagging its tail furiously as if to attract attention.

  "I reckon he's coming around all right," Keeper Downey said in a toneof satisfaction, and then, noting the troubled look which suddenly cameover the little fellow's face, he asked quickly, "What is it, my son?What are you wanting?"

  "Is Mrs. Clark here?"

  "Who is she?"

  "The captain's wife."

  "She hasn't come ashore yet; but you're not to trouble your head aboutanything except getting the best of the salt water you've taken aboard."

  "You must be careful of Fluff until she gets here."

  "Meaning this little bundle of hair?" the keeper asked with a laugh,laying his hand on the dog's head.

  "Yes, sir; she thinks very much of him, an' I promised to keep himclose in my arms if it so happened that we had to come ashore lashed tothe spar."

  "I reckon you couldn't have done different, tied together as you twowere," Surfman Dick Sawyer said with a laugh, and the keeper addedkindly:

  "There's no need to fret about the dog; he shall have the run of thestation, and there's nothing to harm him while old Maje is in theboat-house--Maje is our dog," Downey added as he read the question inthe boy's eyes. "He's large enough to swallow two or three like thislittle one here; but I'll answer for it your Fluff isn't in any danger,and to set your mind at rest he shall stay close by you till morning.We'll put you to bed now, I reckon; there's other work for us outside."

  "I can take care of myself, sir," the lad said bravely, as heattempted to struggle to his feet, the dog meanwhile barking furiouslyas if cautioning his young master against being too venturesome.

  "I thought you couldn't do it," Keeper Downey said, catching the boy intime to prevent a fall, and without further parley he carried him tothe sleeping-room above.

  When the rescued lad was tucked snugly between a generous supply ofblankets, the dog curled himself up on the outside of the bed withhis nose close beside the boy's cheek, and Keeper Downey muttered tohimself as he descended the stairs:

  "If all the ship's crew had been put away as safe and comfortable asthose two, we should have done a night's work of which we might well beproud."

  Then out into the howling, wintry blast went the men who had broughtthe lad and the dog to the station, and during the remainder of thatterrible night every man did patrol duty, pacing to and fro along therocky shore, or keeping faithful watch over the narrow strip of beach,in the faint hope that there might be other survivors, although therewas little chance that such could be the case.

  To continue the official report: "Only remnants of spars and cargo,however, were cast at their feet, and when daylight finally dawned alleyes were intently turned toward the wreck with a vague hope that, bysome altogether improbable possibility, there might be some signs ofliving men on board. But there were none.

  "The forward and after parts of the dismembered hull were seen to befrom thirty to forty yards apart, lying at nearly a right angle witheach other, the former head on, and the latter, on which no mastsappeared, thrown on its beam ends, inclined toward the shore.

  "The foremast and foretopmast, bowsprit and jib-boom, with most of thefore-rigging, were still in place, and the lower yard was crossed amida confusion of tattered sails and tangled ropes. The waves ran high upthe mast, breaking almost into the foretop, and shreds and fragments ofthe cargo of jute wrapped themselves like ragged garments around theshrouds and stays.

  "A dead body was discovered entangled in the rigging on the afterpart of the wreck; but the keeper did not deem it necessary to makean attempt to go out with a boat while the surf was still extremelydangerous, therefore this mournful duty was postponed until thefollowing day."

  There was nothing to be learned by remaining where they were exposedto the full fury of the gale, which had not abated, and the wearycrew, saddened because they had not been permitted to save more lives,returned to the station, each man's garments so thickly encrusted withice that only limited movement was possible.

  A large ship had foundered hardly more than half a pistol-shot distantfrom the building, and of all on board only a small boy and a tiny doghad been rescued from the merciless waves.

  "We'll wait till the lad wakens, and then most likely he can give us asmattering of the details, although I don't allow he knows very muchregarding the disaster, for he must have been lashed
to that spareither just before, or immediately after, the ship struck," KeeperDowney said as he sought to refresh himself with the contents of asteaming bowl of coffee.