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

"Gone to a cinder," the cook replied in a tone of sorrow, "an' I allow they was the best I ever put together. What about the boat?"

"That's what I can't tell, Uncle Zenas. This 'ere fog has shut in worse than ever, an' the chances are we'll never see her agin."

"How did she happen to be out there? Some fisherman, eh?"

"No; me an' Sammy are both agreed that it's a motor boat, an' she looked to me like such a craft as would be carried by some big sailing vessel."

"But what is she doin' out there?"

"Now, look here, Uncle Zenas, I don't know anything more about her than you do. How can you expect I'm goin' to answer such a fool question as that? All I can say is that, 'cordin' to the last sight I had of her, it looked as if she was headin' for this 'ere ledge, an' all the rest is a puzzle."

"Where are you goin' now?" the cook asked as he set about preparing more fish-cakes.

"Down to the rocks. It's just possible I may be able to give the course to whosoever is coming, an' Heaven knows he'll need it."

Then, as if to put an end to the conversation, Captain Eph closed the door emphatically behind him, and descended the long, slender ladder which led to the ledge below.

Not an inviting looking place in which to spend the greater portion of one's life was Carys' Ledge; nothing but a mass of black, jagged rocks rising out of the ocean a dozen miles or more from the mainland, and in extent at low water, half a mile long, and considerably less than that distance in width.

Save for two rows of timbers securely bolted to the rocks, and extending from the base of the tower to the water's edge to form "ways," on which a boat could be drawn up or launched, and a small hut not unlike the dwelling of an Esquimau, made of cement, and large enough to shelter a dory, there was nothing to be seen on the ledge of jagged rocks, over which one could make his way only with considerable difficulty.

Captain Eph descended to the water's edge by following the timbers of the boat-ways, taking due care as to where he stepped, for the footing was far from secure anywhere save on the extreme top of the ledge, and, making a trumpet with his hands, he shouted again and again, pausing now and then in a listening attitude.

"It don't stand to reason he could hold his course long enough to hit this 'ere ledge; but I reckon it's my duty as a Christian man an' a light keeper to do what I can toward lendin' a hand. If he don't come ashore here, the chances are mightily agin his strikin' land while the breath is left in his body, for this 'ere smother is enough to mix up anybody except an old shellback like me. Hello-o-o-o! Hello-o-o-o!"

Captain Eph actually started in surprise at hearing his hail answered, and it seemed to him as if it was a child's voice which had come from out the fog.

"I must be losin' my mind, to even imagine sich a thing!" he exclaimed petulantly, dashing the moisture from his eyes as if by so doing it might be possible to penetrate the dense veil of vapor which shut out from view even the tower of the light. "It's a crazy trick for a grown man to be whifflin' 'round here in this smother, without my thinkin' I heard a boy. Hello-o-o-o!"

"Hello!" came out from the fog, and the old keeper really looked around him in fear; but an instant later he had gathered his senses sufficiently to cry:

"Uncle Zenas! Uncle Zenas!"

The outer door of the tower must have been opened at the first word, for the light keeper heard his cook and second assistant ask petulantly:

"Now what's creepin' over you, Ephraim Downs? Do you allow that we can afford to lose another mess of fish-balls this mornin', or have you knocked off eatin' altogether?"

"Come down here, Uncle Zenas, an' bring the fish-balls with you, if you can't come without 'em. I've got the boat in hail, an' it's a child who answers me. We'll be needin' all hands, if he is to be brought ashore alive. Sing out for Sammy!"

Then Captain Eph cried out once more for the guidance of the stranger, and the reply was sufficient to convince him, if he had not already decided the matter in his mind, that the helmsman of the boat was very young.

"Are you on an island?"

"Wa'al, I wouldn't like to call it jest that," Captain Eph shouted, "unless you're willin' to say a pile of rocks makes an island. This 'ere is Carys' Ledge light. Now do you know where you are?"

"No better than I did before. Am I headin' right?"

"It sounds so; but this 'ere channel is mighty narrow, an' unless you come in jest so, the chances are that your boat will be knocked to pieces. Is she a motor craft?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then slow down till you can see the openin' in the rocks, an' once you're headin' right, slap the power to her. Hello, you Sammy!"

"Ay, ay!" came from somewhere near the tower.

"Bring down that coil of rope, an' I'm thinkin' this 'ere lad'll need it before he makes a landin'!"

At that moment the bow of the boat came into view amid the fog, and Captain Eph shouted:

"Port! Port a bit, an' keep her in the channel! Hurry your stumps, Sammy, for we're like to have a nasty mess here."

Mr. Peters did not arrive on the scene a second too soon, for at the very instant he gained the keeper's side the little craft was thrown by a heavy wave against the jagged rocks, and the splintering of wood told that much damage had been done.

"Look out for this 'ere rope, an' have your wits about you!" Captain Eph cried as, hurriedly taking the coil from Sammy's hands, he flung with wonderful accuracy of aim the flakes across the shattered boat which was being carried by the swell against the rocks the other side of the narrow channel.

Now it was possible for the keeper and his assistant to see that the sole occupant of the disabled craft was a small boy, apparently not more than ten or twelve years of age, whose face told eloquently of the mental and physical suffering he had endured.

The lad sprang forward to seize the rope; but at that instant the boat was flung against the rocks, throwing him headlong, and but for the first assistant keeper he must have been carried out of the little cove by the receding waves.

Mr. Peters, understanding that if the boy's life was to be saved prompt action was necessary, leaped into the boiling waters as he flung one arm over the rope Captain Eph was holding.

The impetus of his leap was sufficient to send him through the water faster than the partially destroyed boat was being carried, and, grasping the stem with one hand and the rope with the other, he shouted:

"Haul in, Cap'n, the best you know how, for I can't hold on here overly long!"

By this time Uncle Zenas had arrived at the scene, and, thanks to his assistance, the little craft with her crew of one was pulled so far in toward the rocks that the keeper and the cook had no difficulty in running her bow on the ways, after which, as Mr. Peters scrambled out of the water looking like a very large, half-drowned cat, the boy was taken from the boat by Captain Eph.

"There, there, don't try to talk," the keeper said in a fatherly tone. "Anybody with half an eye can see that you're clean done up, an' we'll have plenty of time for your story, seein's we ain't likely to be bothered with visitors till the inspector overhauls us."

It seemed as if all the lad's strength deserted him when there was no longer any question as to his safety, for before Captain Eph ceased, the muscles of the little body suddenly relaxed as if the wings of the death angel had touched them.

"I vow an' declare if the poor little tot hasn't gone an' fainted away like a woman," the old keeper said as he hurried toward the tower, leaving to Uncle Zenas and Mr. Peters the task of pulling the shattered boat up beyond reach of the tide. "I reckon he'd stuck it out as long as he had strength, an' then went all to pieces."

When the two assistants entered the kitchen Captain Eph, having undressed the lad, was rubbing him vigorously with warm towels, and Mr. Peters cried in astonishment:

"Hello! What's goin' on now? Ain't afraid he's been drownded, are you, Cap'n?"

"What with the fog an' the spray, I allow he has come pretty nigh that, an' this 'ere treatment won't do him any harm. Besides, I don't know what else to do, for there's nothin' in the rules an' regerlations to tell what ought'er be done when folks have fainted dead away. Anyhow, he seems to be pullin' 'round all right," the old man added as the lad opened his eyes slowly.

In a twinkling Uncle Zenas had a cup of hot coffee to the little fellow's mouth, and he was forced to drink, for the cook, in his eagerness to take some part in the rescue, was literally pouring it down his throat.

"Why don't you go an' fix up my bed so's we can put him in it, Sammy? What good do you suppose it does to stand 'round here first on one foot an' then on the other as if you was a brazen image?" Captain Eph demanded fiercely of his first assistant, and the latter ran up the spiral stairway, hurriedly, muttering something about the folly of treating a case such as the one in hand, before first studying the "rules and regerlations" to learn whether the Board had made any provisions for similar emergencies.

Thanks to the ministrations of Captain Eph and Uncle Zenas, the half-drowned and wholly numbed lad was partially restored to a normal condition; but when he tried to speak the old keeper said sharply:

"There's no need of any tongue-waggin' yet a while. You're goin' inter my bed, an' stay there till you begin to feel somethin' like yourself, though I don't reckon it would do any harm if you told us how long you'd been alone in the boat."

"Last night, and yesterday, and all the night before that," the lad said with a sigh, and then, as his eyes filled with tears, Captain Eph gathered him in his arms, saying to Uncle Zenas as he began to ascend the staircase: