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

"I never think I'd like to be in the life-savin' service except at sich a time as this," he said as he returned to the table. "Even if the crew can't really do anything, there must be a good deal of satisfaction in makin' a big fight for it; but to be shut in a place like this, knowin' what's goin' on outside, gets on to a man's nerves worse'n anything I ever struck. A hot battle ain't a marker alongside of it."

No one made reply, and when the pretense of a meal was at an end Captain Eph went back to the lantern, Sidney following close at his heels. There the old keeper and the boy did a great deal of unnecessary work in order to keep their hands employed, and at short intervals strove to peer through the blinding whirl of snow.

After a time, how long Sidney would have been unable to say, so slowly did the moments pass, Mr. Peters cried from the kitchen:

"We can get on to the ledge now, an' I'm goin' to see what damage has been done."

Captain Eph looked hurriedly out of the window to make certain the first assistant was correct in his statement, and then shouted:

"Hold on a bit, an' I'll go with you."

"Am I to stay here?" Sidney asked wistfully.

"You can stay anywhere in the tower you please; I can't let you go with us, for not only is the footin' bad; but the tide hasn't got down so far that a wave doesn't sweep clean over the ledge every now an' then."

Sidney followed the keeper into the kitchen, and when they arrived there Mr. Peters was clad in his oil-skins, while Uncle Zenas was sewing on the coat he intended for Sidney's use, as if his very life depended on finishing it within a short time.

"Now don't do anything rash," Uncle Zenas said warningly as Captain Eph began to put on waterproof clothing. "It'll be a big temptation to make a try for the poor creeters; but you've been put here to look after the light, an' if it didn't burn to-night more than one ship's crew might lose their lives in consequence."

"We'll be cautious, Uncle Zenas," the keeper said in a low tone; "but there ain't overly much need for your warnin', because I don't know of the least little thing we can do."

Then the kitchen door was opened, and on the outside of that a shutter of iron, which must have been put on during the night, since Sidney had not seen it before, after which Mr. Peters descended the ladder cautiously, followed by the keeper.

By looking out of the window, it was possible for Sidney to follow with his eyes the movements of the men while they remained near the base of the tower, and he understood by their gestures that the motor boat had been destroyed.

Then Mr. Peters opened the door of the boat-house, not without considerable difficulty, and the dory was pulled out until Sidney could see her bow. As a matter of course she was uninjured, because of being protected from the force of the waves; but she was filled with water, and this the two men removed by tipping her partially over.

At that moment the report of the gun was heard again, and Mr. Peters ran down toward the narrow cove where the spray was flung high over his head, standing there in a listening attitude while Captain Eph scrambled across the rocks to the western side of the ledge.

"I knew both them men had the same idee in mind when they went out, an' it didn't make any difference how much I said agin it!" the cook cried impatiently, and Sidney asked in bewilderment:

"What do you mean by that, Uncle Zenas? What did they have in their minds?"

"The idee of tryin' to reach the wreck, if there was anything to be heard from the poor creeters after the tide went down so's they could get at the dory."

"Do you mean that they will try to launch the boat while the waves are breaking over the ledge?"

"If they wasn't up to something of the kind, why would Cap'n Eph be prowlin' 'round here to the lee'ard?"

"I can't see why that has anything to do with their trying to help the people who have been wrecked," Sidney said in perplexity.

"Why, he's lookin' 'round to see what kind of a chance he can find for launchin' the dory! He's crazy, dead crazy! Of course I know how wild he is at bein' obleeged to stay here idle when people are bein' drowned before our very eyes, even though we can't see 'em, for I feel the same way; but he an' Sammy will be only givin' up their own lives in tryin' anythin' of the kind."

It surely seemed as if Uncle Zenas had spoken no more than the truth. The sea was running as high as at any time since daybreak, and Sidney could not believe that any small boat, however skilfully she might be handled, could live for a moment in such a swell.

Dimly amid the swirling snow Sidney could see Captain Eph as he crept over the rocks on the western side of the ledge, looked about him for a moment, and waved his hand to Mr. Peters, whereupon the first assistant began pulling the dory out of the boat-house. Then the lad cried to Uncle Zenas:

"They are going to launch the boat, sir. Mr. Peters is making her ready."

"God help them an' us, Sonny!" Uncle Zenas cried fervently, and he could have said nothing which would have caused Sidney more alarm, for he understood by the exclamation how dangerous the old man believed would be the attempt.

"Why don't you coax them not to try it?" Sidney asked tearfully.

"Because it wouldn't be any manner of use, Sonny. Ephriam Downs is pig-headed when he gets his mind set on anything, an' Sammy Peters ain't far behind him. Besides, how can you blame 'em for wantin' to make a try at it? I'd rather be with them in the dory, if I wasn't quite so fat, than sittin' here thinkin' of what may come to 'em."

By this time Captain Eph had returned to the vicinity of the tower, and was helping Mr. Peters drag the boat over the jagged rocks, a task which seemed beyond their powers, and yet it was finally accomplished.

Uncle Zenas had come to the window by the side of Sidney, and the two could see the keepers as they shoved the dory out into the sea where it was comparatively calm because of being to the leeward of the ledge. Then both the men, heeding not the biting cold and the sleety snow, stripped off first their oil-skins, and afterward all superfluous clothing, until they stood in their shirtsleeves.

"What's that for?" Sidney asked excitedly. "They'll freeze to death!

"There'll be some little chance of their swimmin' ashore if they haven't got too many clothes on," Uncle Zenas replied mournfully, and then he raised his head quickly as the muffled report of the gun could be heard. "I'm proud of 'em, Sonny, proud of 'em! Talk about men being brave! I've wintered an' summered with them two, an' you can't find more courage in the same weight of human bein's than they've got!"

"But you believe they'll be drowned!" Sidney cried, striving to prevent his voice from trembling.

"There's nothin' we could say or do, Sonny, to prevent 'em from goin' an' we'll hope the good God will send 'em back to us, for I'd be a terrible lonesome, useless old man if them two were taken from me."

Uncle Zenas wiped the tears from his eyes as he strove to peer through the falling snow while the brave keepers leaped into the dory, after shoving her bow from the shore, and Sidney literally held his breath in suspense as the frail boat was tossed high up on the crest of a wave, only to be seemingly engulfed by the next.

"She'll be swamped before they can get around the ledge!" the lad cried in an agony of terror. "Oh, why did they go?"

"I ain't afraid but they'll keep her right side up for a spell, Sonny; but it's when they get anywhere near the wreck that the most dangerous part of the business will come in. Wouldn't you feel better if we went into the lantern? I don't reckon we can see any more there; but it'll seem as if we could."

For reply Sidney ran up the narrow staircase, Uncle Zenas following more rapidly than one would have supposed he could have moved, and when the two were in the lantern the shadowy forms of the keepers could be seen as they toiled at the oars in what seemed like a vain effort.

In a very few seconds the snow hid them completely from view, but yet the watchers stood with their faces pressed against the glass, picturing in their minds the dory and her brave crew as they saw them last.

"If – if – if nothing happens to them, how long before they ought to be back?" Sidney asked in a choking voice, and Uncle Zenas replied in tones hardly more steady:

"That is what we can't make any guess at, lad. It's certain they couldn't pull out to the wreck, against this wind, in less than an hour, an' if anything can be done toward savin' the crew, half a day may be none too long."

Sidney strove in vain to distinguish anything through the snow wreaths; but yet he remained at the window until Uncle Zenas, straightening himself up as if with an effort, said slowly:

"It's no good to stay here when nothin' can be seen but the snow; I must be doin' somethin', or nobody knows what will happen to me. We'll go down in the kitchen, where I can work on your coat."

"I want to get the first glimpse of them when they come back," Sidney said, reluctantly following the old man.

"Then don't begin to look for 'em till later in the day; it'll make you crazy to watch the snow-flakes while they're whirlin' 'round the tower at sich a rate."

Once in the kitchen Uncle Zenas took up his work, sewing feverishly, and keeping his eyes fixed on the garment as if he was afraid to look out of doors, while Sidney walked nervously from one window to another in silence.

When it seemed to the lad as if a full day had passed, the old man asked in a half-whisper:

"Do you reckon we'd better get dinner, Sonny?"

"I couldn't swallow a mouthful. It seems as if I'd never want any more to eat."

"That's about the way I'm feelin', Sonny, an' perhaps it won't do any good to force ourselves. I'll make a big lot of coffee, so we'll have plenty of hot drink for Cap'n Eph an' Sammy when they get back. I reckon they'll be more'n half frozen."