The Light Keepers: A Story of the United States Light-house Service

The Light Keepers: A Story of the United States Light-house Service
James Otis

James Otis

The Light Keepers: A Story of the United States Light-house Service

CHAPTER I

AN INVOLUNTARY VISITOR

"If that 'ere ain't a boat, Cap'n Eph, I'll agree to eat this buff-skin, an' wash it down with a pint of Uncle Sam's best oil," and Mr. Samuel Peters, first assistant of Carys' Ledge light, flattened his nose against the glass of the lantern as he peered out over the surging waters which surrounded the light-house on every hand.

An odd-looking man was Mr. Peters (better known to his companions in the service as "Sammy"), because of the fact that a bullet from the works of Petersburg had ploughed a deep furrow across his left cheek, and carried away a goodly portion of one ear. Thus indelibly branded as a veteran of the Civil War, Mr. Peters had been glad to accept the position of first assistant keeper of Carys' Ledge light, under the command of his old comrade-in-arms, Captain Ephraim Downs.

"What good would it do you to eat the buff-skin, Sammy?" Captain Eph asked in a mild tone, and without looking up from his task of polishing the lenses. "It stands to reason that you'd have a fit of the dyspepsy after doin' it, an' then I'd be called upon to report that we'd lost a buff-skin, an' the best part of Number 12 from the medicine chest, for I'd feel it my duty to doctor you up to the best of my ability an' the printed instructions from the Board, even though you had been makin' a fool of yourself."

"But why don't you look out an' see what's drivin' in here?" Mr. Peters cried with just a shade of irritation in his voice. "What's the use of bein' so pig-headed?"

"Now, Sammy, you know I ain't overly fond of bein' called pig-headed, an yet you throw that word at me in season an' out of season," Captain Downs said placidly as he polished the lenses carefully with the buff-skin.

"Then take a squint to the east'ard, an' see what this 'ere muck of a beastly fog is bringin' us," Mr. Peters insisted, this time in such an imploring tone that the old keeper could do no less than comply with the almost tearful request.

A single glance over the heaving waters, which had a grayish hue in the early morning light, obscured as it was by the fog, and Captain Downs forgot for the moment the "rules and regulations" by which he governed the movements of himself and his companions.

"I do declare, Sammy, you're right!" he cried. "It does look like a boat, for a fact, an' the surprisin' part of it is that you hit so near the truth! It ain't often you can make out the difference betwixt a ship an' a seal."

Mr. Peters was so engrossed with that which he saw as not to give any heed to the ironical remark, for, under almost any other circumstances, he would have resented it deeply.

"She's headin' this way, an' seems to be comin' right along, though I can't make out anything in the shape of oars," the first assistant said half to himself, and Captain Eph added as he went to the head of the narrow stairway which led to the dwelling-rooms below:

"You ain't so young as you use' ter be, Sammy, an' can't depend on your eyesight overly much." Then, raising his voice, he cried, "Hello, Uncle Zenas! Bring up the glass will you?"

"I reckon that'll stir him up a bit," Mr. Peters said with a chuckle as of satisfaction. "Uncle Zenas claims there isn't anything in the rules an' regerlations that says he shall be interfered with while he's cookin'."

"He'll find I've got a few rules an' regerlations of my own, which can't be broken by any cook that ever beat an egg," Captain Eph said sharply, and then he stepped back by the side of Mr. Peters in order to get another glance at that object which had interfered with the early morning duties of the light-house force.

A moment later it was possible for the two in the lantern to hear a dull rumbling sound, something like imitation thunder, from below, and again Mr. Peters chuckled until it really seemed as if he was choking.

"You've stirred Uncle Zenas up all right, Cap'n Eph," the first assistant said, "an' I'm wonderin' whether you get them 'ere glasses without goin' after 'em yourself."

"He'll fetch 'em or I'll hang him out of this 'ere lantern till he comes somewhere nigh understandin' his duty aboard this light. I didn't fish off the Banks year in an' year out for the best part of my life, to be flouted by a whipper-snapper like Zenas Stubbs."

The rumbling sound from below increased in volume until, after considerable difficulty, the head and shoulders of a very fat man were literally forced through the aperture in the floor of the lantern, and the upper portion of the "whipper-snapper" was revealed to view.

Uncle Zenas had admitted, in moments of strictest confidence, that he weighed "nigh to three hundred pounds" and even Mr. Peters, who was prone to contradict any statement which might be made in his hearing, had no word against it. The cook was large, with a face so red it seemed as if the blood was about to burst through its veins, and, save in the present case, was blessed with a mildness of disposition in proportion to the size of his body.

"If I'm to fetch an' carry for this whole blessed crew, an' that at a time when the fish-cakes are like to be burned to a cinder, I'll send in a petition to the Board to have this 'ere stairway stretched till an ordinary man can get through without scrapin' the skin all off his shoulders," he said angrily, and Captain Eph replied, as he took the glasses from the huge hand which was extended toward him:

"Better ask for a derrick, Uncle Zenas, an' then we can run you up on the outside of the tower when we're needin' your delicate frame in the lantern."

Uncle Zenas raised his hands above his head as if despairing of finding words of sufficient intensity to do justice to the occasion, and then, noting the fact that Captain Eph and Mr. Peters were gazing seaward intently, he apparently forgot the peril of the fish-cakes as, after considerable difficulty, he pulled his entire body through the narrow opening which gave entrance to the lantern.

"What seems to be the matter?" he asked in a whisper, much as if believing Captain Eph might be disturbed in his efforts to bring the glasses to bear upon the tiny object which was being tossed wildly about by the waves so far away.

For reply, Mr. Peters motioned him to look toward the east, and after one glance he asked:

"What is it? Looks like a log, an' if grown men in Government employ have taken to spendin' the time when they should be eatin', in huntin' up drift stuff, it's time the inspector was notified that a full, able-bodied crew is needed at Carys' Ledge light."

"I say it's a boat," Mr. Peters replied, "an' if I'm right, it stands to reason that there may be somebody aboard of her. Now – "

"It is a boat!" Captain Eph cried with no slight show of excitement, "an' I'm allowin' that there's at least one man aboard."

"What can he be doin' out there to the east'ard?" Mr. Peters cried as he took the glasses from the keeper's hand, and began adjusting them to his own eyes.

"It's some fisherman, I reckon, what lost himself in the fog," Uncle Zenas said, as if he no longer had any interest in the matter, and Mr. Peters cried excitedly:

"That's no fisherman's boat, and it don't look as if it came from a pleasure craft. There! Yes! I can make out somebody in the stern sheets; but I don't see any oars, and how in the name of goodness has he kept her headin' for this 'ere light? What do you allow it is, Cap'n Eph?"

"Much the same as you've made out, Sammy, an' it puzzles me to say why she's abroad on a morning like this."

Just at that instant the odor of burning fish came up through the door in the floor, and Uncle Zenas made all possible haste to descend, as the keeper cried irritably:

"I'd like to know if you haven't studied the rules and regerlations enough to find out that there mustn't be any smoke here in the lantern? Why don't you stay down where you belong, instead of makin' more work for Sammy an' me?"

"I'd have been willin' to staid there, an' it was what I wanted to do," Uncle Zenas replied breathlessly, as he tried unsuccessfully to lower his huge body through the narrow aperture. "If the crew of this 'ere light hadn't been so desperately lazy that they couldn't come down after a little pair of glasses, we wouldn't be losin' the best mess of fish-cakes that was ever put together on Carys' Ledge."

"Get down, can't you, an' not do so much talkin'?" the angry keeper cried, pushing on the shoulders of the big cook until Uncle Zenas had literally scraped his way through, and then the door was closed so violently that several particles of dust arose, causing Captain Eph to mutter:

"It does seem as if the crew of this 'ere light had gone out of their heads this morning. What with smoke an' dust here in the lantern, I reckon we're smashin' the rules an' regerlations all to flinders. What do you make out, Sammy? What do you make out?"

"It's one of them motor boats, Cap'n Eph, an' she's no fisherman, that much I'll go bail."

"Well, get to work cleaning' up, an' let me find out what she is. It seems as if a full grown man with a pair of good glasses ought'er know all about her by this time."

"How do you expect me to wrastle with the rules an' regerlations, when for all we know that 'ere boat may be comin' in with a load of shipwrecked men?" Mr. Peters cried petulantly, as he gave the glasses into the keeper's hand, and then stood gazing over the water as if believing it was possible to see more plainly with the naked eye.

"It don't stand to reason that 'ere craft has got shipwrecked men aboard, else we would see 'em, Sammy, an' I'm certain she's light, but for a man in the stern-sheets. Here comes the fog agin, and whoever's steerin' stands a mighty slim chance of strikin' Carys' Ledge, if it so be he wants to make this 'ere bit of rock. I do hate to get so mixed up before breakfast! Why couldn't the idjut have waited until long towards noon, when we hadn't much of anything to do, before he hove in sight?"

"He'll heave out of sight mighty soon, for this 'ere smother is comin' back faster than it went," Mr. Peters said half to himself, "an' I reckon we know now all we ever shall about him."

"It must be he's makin' for the ledge, an' it stands to reason we ought'er lend him a hand. There, that's the last we'll see of the craft unless some mighty fine steerin' is done, an' since it's no use lookin' out in the fog, Sammy, you'd better get to work on the lamp, while I go down in case he's got brains enough to hold his course. Remember, that 'cordin' to the rules an' regerlations, the work of gettin' things ship-shape must be begun immediately the light is put out, and we've loafed too long already."

"I reckon it wouldn't hurt very much if we broke the regerlations a little bit, when perhaps there are lives to be saved," Mr. Peters muttered as the keeper, raising the trap-door carefully, descended the narrow, winding staircase, but the first assistant made no attempt to follow his superior officer, because of knowing full well, from past experience, that any such disobedience of orders would be followed by a reprimand not pleasant to receive.

Descending the first flight, the keeper came to the watch room, where was a table, a chair, a stove, and a small lamp for the comfort and convenience of those who were on duty during the night to make certain the lamp in the lantern (meaning the floor above), burned steadily; and here also was a square, upright piece of mechanism known as the driving clock, which operated the flashing light.

Down another flight, and the keeper was in a third circular room, where were two beds. Another flight brought him to his own apartment, and below that the kitchen, over which Uncle Zenas presided as cook and second assistant light keeper, where everything was wondrously neat and clean, and where every inch of space was economized for the better keeping of the food, cooking utensils, and such articles as are ordinarily found in similar apartments on shore.

"Are the fish-cakes spiled?" Captain Eph asked as he opened the door leading outside the tower to a ladder of iron, which was fastened directly to the masonry of the building.