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

The pan in which Uncle Zenas had been mixing the dough was close at hand, and Sidney flung its contents upon the blaze, the sweet, sticky stuff acting like a blanket on the burning fat, but sending forth dense, stifling clouds of smoke.

Delaying only sufficiently long to make certain that the cook was no longer in danger of being burned to death, Mr. Peters ran swiftly to the head of the stairs, closed the door in the floor, and then darted back to open the windows lest all hands be suffocated.

In the meanwhile Captain Eph had made several vain efforts to rise, but each time his left leg bent under him, causing such agony of pain that he could not repress deep groans, which frightened Sidney almost as much as had the fire.

"What is the matter?" the lad cried tremulously, as he knelt by the side of the keeper, giving no further heed to the possibility that the tower might soon be in flames.

"I don't know whether my leg is broken or not," the old man replied as he strove to prevent any sign of suffering from escaping his lips. "Don't spend your time on me, Sonny, but fight the fire, else we're all likely to be burned alive!"

Until this moment Uncle Zenas had not spoken; but continued to roll over and over on the floor as if suffering severely, and Mr. Peters devoted all his attention to him. Now when Captain Eph gave a decided command, the first assistant set about obeying it, and, with Sidney, labored feverishly to extinguish the flames which had already eaten into the floor and around the window.

Fresh water was a precious liquid on Carys' Ledge, where the entire supply must be brought from the mainland; but now it was used freely, and while the two injured men lay upon the floor unable to care for themselves, the kitchen was literally flooded before the last spark of fire had been extinguished.

Not until then did either Mr. Peters or Sidney give heed to the suffering keepers, but when the lad and the first assistant would have attended to Captain Eph, he said hoarsely:

"Look after Zenas first; his hurts must be worse than mine."

"How badly off are you?" Mr. Peters asked as he bent over the suffering man, who was lying in a pool of water, and Uncle Zenas replied, striving in vain to prevent his voice from trembling:

"That's what I don't know, Sammy; but it seems as if my legs were on fire."

"Strip off his clothes, what there is left of 'em, Sammy, an' you set to work, Sonny, scrapin' potatoes till you get enough to cover all the burned flesh," Captain Eph said in a tone of command. "Bring me somethin' to work with, an' I'll help you."

All this was done as speedily as possible, and when the partially burned clothing had been removed from the lower portion of Uncle Zenas' body, it was seen that both legs and feet were seriously injured, the blisters already beginning to appear.

As rapidly as the potatoes could be scraped into a thick paste, it was spread generously over the reddened flesh, and fastened in place by the old linen cloths which had been used for cleaning the lens.

Nearly an hour was spent in this work, and then the suffering man was left on the floor near the window where there was but little water, until the extent of Captain Eph's injuries could be ascertained.

"I didn't break any bones, that's certain, for I've been feelin' of my leg," the keeper said when Mr. Peters and Sidney knelt by his side; "but I came as near as a man could without splinterin' 'em, an' it looks as if I might be laid up quite a spell."

He had already taken off his shoe and stocking, exposing to view a limb swollen to fully twice its natural size, and Sidney was filled with wonder because the captain had been able to hide all evidences of the pain from which he was undoubtedly suffering.

"What shall I do for you, Captain Eph?" Mr. Peters asked helplessly.

"The only thing I know of is to tie it up in wet cloths, an' when that's been done you two had best get things dried out here, so's you'll have a chance to go into the lantern. I'm allowin' that the whole place is filled with smoke."

"We won't bother 'bout the light till we get you two fixed up in some kind of decent shape," Mr. Peters said decidedly, as if he considered himself in command. "I'll see to your leg while Sonny mops up the water."

Then Mr. Peters closed the windows on the easterly side of the tower, through which the moisture-laden snow was driving, and Sidney turned all his attention to making the room look more habitable.

"How are you gettin' on, Zenas?" Captain Eph asked as the second assistant beat his hands together to prevent a cry of pain from escaping his lips.

"I'm in misery, Ephraim, clear misery; but I know I've every reason to be thankful that I wasn't burned worse, an' am tryin' not to show myself a baby."

"Don't try, Uncle Zenas," the keeper said, himself striving to choke back a groan as Mr. Peters jarred the injured limb. "Yell all you want'er, an' we won't call it babyish, for when a man gets a kettle of hot fat poured over him he's like to be in a bad way."

It seemed to Sidney that he had never worked so slowly before, not even while he tried to light the lantern when Mr. Peters was brought home. He believed it in the highest degree necessary that the injured men be taken from the wet floor as speedily as possible, and yet he was making but little headway in mopping up the water.

Mr. Peters worked rapidly and dextrously, apparently in as good bodily condition as before he went adrift on the raft, and so great was the general excitement and suffering that no one appeared to consider his sudden recovery in any degree odd.

However clumsy Sidney may have thought himself, his work was finished within a reasonably short time. The floor was freed from water, the partially burned and saturated garments thrown out of the window, and the kitchen restored as nearly as possible to its former condition.

When this had been done Sidney brought from the sleeping rooms a plentiful supply of blankets and pillows, with which two beds could be made on the floor, and within three hours from the time the accidents occurred, the injured keepers had at least the appearance of being comfortable.

"There's nothin' else you two can turn your hands to here yet awhile, an' I do wish you'd go into the lantern. It stands to reason that everything there is in bad shape, an' the sooner it is set to rights the better I'll feel," Captain Eph said in such a tone of entreaty that Mr. Peters and Sidney made all haste to do as he desired.

As was to be supposed, the smoke had ascended to the very top of the tower; but the lantern was by no means in a bad condition, and the first assistant said cheerily as he set about wiping the lens:

"Cap'n Eph hasn't got any great call to worry 'bout this 'ere light. It won't take us half an hour to put things in as good shape as they were before; but what's worryin' me is how we're to get along while two of the crew are laid up for what's likely to be a long spell."

CHAPTER XIV

NURSES AND LIGHT KEEPERS

At that moment Sidney was thinking of what had just taken place, rather than of what they might or might not be able to do in the future, and the most perplexing part of it was the sudden and complete recovery of Mr. Peters.

He could understand that the first assistant might have been so excited by the disasters in the kitchen as to be able to do what, under almost any other circumstances, would have been absolutely impossible; but in such case a reaction should have set in after the danger had passed, when the patient would be in a far worse bodily condition than before.

If Mr. Peters had collapsed immediately Captain Eph's needs were supplied, Sidney would not have been surprised; in fact, he would have looked upon it as the most natural thing possible. But the first assistant showed no signs of weakening even now when they were absent from the scene of the accident; he appeared to be in as good bodily condition as ever, and the lad was so very curious regarding the situation that he asked abruptly:

"How did it happen, Mr. Peters, that you got well so quickly? We all thought there was danger you might die."

"It does seem kind'er queer, don't it?" and the first assistant rubbed the tip of his nose reflectively with the buff-skin. "Wa'al now, Sonny, I'd like mighty well to tell you jest how it happened; but I don't rightly know all the pertic'lars myself, although I can let in a little light if you'll promise never to tell a livin' soul."

"Of course I wouldn't tell anything which you wanted kept secret," Sidney replied.

"That's a promise, is it?" Mr. Peters asked sharply.

"Of course it is; but if it's so very much of a secret, there's no reason why you should tell me. I was only wondering how you got well so quickly, and it won't do any harm if I don't know."

"But I'd rather tell you, Sonny, though I'd feel mortally bad if Cap'n Eph or Uncle Zenas heard about it, because I'm ashamed of a part," Mr. Peters said seriously, and Sidney looked at him in surprise, failing to understand why so much of an introduction was necessary to the answering of a simple question.

"It isn't any of my business, you know, and perhaps you'd better not say any more," Sidney began, but Mr. Peters interrupted him as he softly closed the door in the floor of the lantern.

"I'm goin' to tell you the whole story, Sonny, an' it shall be a secret 'twixt you an' me. In the first place I was chafin' under the collar a good bit when I left here to go to the wreck, after Uncle Zenas had declared I shouldn't have a bite to eat till breakfast was ready. It didn't seem jest the thing for him to make me go hungry because he was set against my savin' what I could from the Nautilus, an' I'll leave it to you if I wasn't right?"

"He might have let you have some of the food that was already cooked," Sidney replied guardedly, not disposed to find serious fault with the cook while he was in such distress.

"Wa'al, he declared I shouldn't have the least little crumb, an' off I started on work that was as much for his benefit as my own. When I got aboard the wreck I found it was goin' to be possible to get away with a good deal more'n could be loaded into the dory, so I built a raft, an' Sonny dear, I had timber an' ropes there that would have done your heart good to see! Of course it wasn't a great while before I found out that we was likely to have a storm, an' I jest threw the stuff together in the hope of gettin' back to the ledge before the wind got too high."

"Then you did start with the raft just as Captain Eph believed?"

"Yes, I started, Sonny, but hadn't got very far before I saw that I was likely to lose some of my load unless it was looked after, so I ran the bow of the dory up on the lumber, an' got out to make the heaviest timbers fast. I reckon that in movin' 'round I tilted the side of the raft down so the boat slipped off; but she was twenty yards away before I knew what had happened. Of course I didn't suppose that the man would come after the motor so soon, an' allowed that my only chance of ever seein' Carys' Ledge agin was to catch the dory.

"Over I went without stoppin' to think that the wind would shove her along faster'n I could swim; but it wasn't a great while before I found that much out. Then I started back for the raft, an' mighty hard work I had to reach her. When, after bein' a good half-hour in the cold water, I climbed up on the timbers, you'd better believe I was in bad shape, an' jest about as near crazy as I ever shall be till they lug me off to some asylum."

"I wonder that you wasn't frozen," Sidney said sympathetically, as Mr. Peters ceased speaking for a moment.