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

There was an expression of deepest anxiety on Captain Eph's face as he ascended the iron stairs, and on arriving at the floor above he stood for a moment gazing at the childish face which could be seen amid the mountain of bed-clothing, for in his desire to do all that might be possible for the little fellow, Mr. Peters had piled upon the bed every blanket and comfortable to be found in the tower.

"Better get right at it," Uncle Zenas said in a whisper, as he halted by the bedside with the bowl of soup in his hands.

Captain Eph raised the boy so gently that his slumber was not disturbed; but when Uncle Zenas attempted to pour the warm liquid down his throat, he opened his eyes, crying in distress:

"What is it? What do you men want? Where am I?"

"You're safe and sound in Carys' Ledge light, Sonny, an' we've come up to give you somethin' to eat," Captain Eph replied, as he pressed the lad closely to him. "You've been havin' a hard time, an' are needin' what we've brought. Drink it down like a little man, an' then you may go to sleep agin."

Just for an instant the little fellow looked around wildly, and then, as if reassured by the friendly pressure of Captain Eph's arms, began to swallow the soup, slowly at first, as if from a sense of duty, and then eagerly as hunger asserted itself.

"My! but that was good!" he exclaimed as Captain Eph laid him back upon the pillow, and Uncle Zenas asked eagerly:

"Do you want some more? There's plenty in the kitchen, an' it'll do you good."

"If I could have a little more. It's so good, and I didn't know I was hungry till I got a taste of it," the little fellow said, rising to a sitting posture, and as Uncle Zenas hurried down the stairway Captain Eph whispered solicitously:

"Why not lay down agin, Sonny? You're mighty sleepy, an' it'll do you good to get another nap."

"If you don't care, I'd rather keep awake till I've had more of the soup. How nice it is to be here where it's warm and dry!"

"Bless your dear heart, you shall do as you want to in this 'ere light!" Captain Eph cried. "Only don't forget that you've been havin' a hard time, an' need sleep as much as food."

"There isn't much chance I'll forget anything of that kind while you're all so good to me. When do you suppose my father will come to take me away?"

"Who is your father, Sonny?" Mr. Peters asked.

"Captain Harlow, of the schooner West Wind– she's a five-master, and a beauty. This is her first voyage, and I'm going all the way to Porto Rico in her," the lad cried, and then suddenly remembering how long it had been since he was on board the West Wind, he cried, turning toward Captain Eph, "Do you suppose he can find me, now that I've come ashore, sir?"

"If he don't it won't be any very great job to let him know where you are, Sonny," the keeper replied emphatically. "It'll go hard if we can't hail a fisherman, or a pilot boat, an' send a letter ashore to the post-office, so you needn't worry about that part of it. But tell me how you happened to be adrift in that motor boat."

"We went out to look at what seemed to be a lot of wreckage; it was so calm that the West Wind hardly moved through the water, and father said I might go with Mr. Sawyer, because I know how to run the motor and steer. Then, before we'd got to the wreckage, the fog shut in, and we couldn't see the schooner. I believe I could have gone straight to her at first, but after Mr. Sawyer fell over-board, I turned the boat around so many times trying to pick him up, that I couldn't tell where the West Wind might be."

"Who was Mr. Sawyer?" Captain Eph asked.

"The second mate; he was a good friend of mine, and I wouldn't have been allowed to go out to look at the wreckage if he hadn't coaxed father."

"How did a sailorman contrive to tumble over-board?" Mr. Peters asked curiously, as if it seemed to him impossible such an accident could occur.

"We ran down a spar, and he was leaning over the bow trying to make out if it was a buoy that had gone adrift, or a portion of the wreckage we had sighted, when a heavy sea came. It seemed to me as if the timber struck Mr. Sawyer on the head, for over he went like a log, and although I put the boat back and forth until it grew too dark to see, I couldn't find him."

"Wasn't you frightened, Sonny?" Mr. Peters asked, and the lad replied with a sigh:

"I was feeling too sorry for that, sir, and I thought certain the schooner would pick me up, even if the fog was thick; but I did get frightened when the night shut in, and the wind began to blow so that the spray from the tops of the waves came aboard, soaking me with water. My name is Sidney, if you please, sir."

"Then what did you do?" Captain Eph asked in a whisper.

"I just sat there and cried, sir, till I remembered what father has often told me, that when a boy, or a man, for that matter, loses his courage, he is a great deal worse off than if he kept up his spirits. I had often run the motor while the West Wind was in port, and I tried to make out how much gasolene there was in the tank, for I knew steerage-way was needed, else I couldn't keep her head up into the wind. It was a terribly long while before day came again, and then the fog covered everything so that I couldn't see very far in either direction. Of course father hunted for me; but I knew he didn't have much chance of finding me in that kind of weather."

"Wasn't you hungry?" Mr. Peters asked.

"Perhaps so, sir; but I was too much frightened and sorry to know it until I got a taste of the soup."

"What did you do all the long day and second night?" and Captain Eph put his arms around the lad as he asked the question.

"I sang a little, sir, and cried a good deal; but the most of the time I prayed, and once when I fell asleep without knowing it, I thought I saw my mother, who went to Heaven when I was only a little shaver."

At this point in the story Uncle Zenas appeared with a fresh supply of soup, and after Sidney had drank it eagerly, Captain Eph said as he forced the boy to lie down again:

"You're a brave little lad, Sidney, an' I have no doubt but that you really saw your mother, for surely God would have let her go to her baby boy when he was in such trouble. Now you must sleep again, an' while you're growin' stronger we'll cook up a letter to send your father, tellin' him where you are, for I reckon he's feelin' mighty bad about this time."

Then, motioning for his assistants to follow, Captain Eph led the way to the watch-room, and Uncle Zenas, who brought up the rear, closed each door behind him lest the sound of their voices should prevent Sidney from sleeping.

When the three men were in the apartment directly under the lantern they stood in silence, gazing at each other, while one might have counted twenty, and then Captain Eph said in a low tone:

"Wa'al, you've heard about all the story he can tell, an' now what do you think?"

"I reckon it's the truth all right," Mr. Peters replied in what he intended should be a jovial tone, and on the instant the keeper was aroused to anger.

"I hope there ain't any one here so mean an' bad-minded as to question any statement that little shaver has made! The truth! Of course it is, every word, an' – "

"Now, look here, Cap'n Eph, there ain't any call for you to get up so high on your ear," Mr. Peters interrupted. "I wasn't allowin' it could be anything but the truth, an' only spoke that way because there didn't seem to be much else to say. We've got him here, an' are bound to take care of him, no matter what the rules an' regerlations say about boardin' or lodgin' houses."

"Right you are," Uncle Zenas added, "an' I for one don't see as there is any need of talk. We've got stuff enough to eat, an' jest so long as his appetite sticks by him I'll give him a chance to find out what kind of a cook I am, though it stands to reason I can't come anywhere near mixin' up what he's been in the habit of gettin' on board one of them big schooners."

"Now see here, Uncle Zenas," Captain Eph said sharply. "I've sat under the droppin' of your cookin' quite a spell, an' so has Sammy. We've never had any fault to find, an' as long as there's breath left in my body I'll maintain that you can hold your own with the cook of any craft that sails."

"Then what did we come up here to talk about?" Uncle Zenas asked as if in perplexity.

"About that boy of our'n, for I reckon he belongs to us till his father comes after him. I ain't wishin' harm to any man; but it wouldn't make me feel very bad if nobody ever showed up to claim the little shaver, 'cause it makes this 'ere tower seem a good deal like home to have a baby in it."

"Are you tryin' to fix up some plan so's it sha'n't be known he's here?" Mr. Peters asked as if in astonishment, and Captain Eph roared angrily:

"See here, Sammy, there are times when you try a patient man like me, as nobody has been tried since the days of Job. Of course I ain't tryin' to keep any baby away from his own true an' lawful father, an' I called you up here so's we could decide how to get word to the capt'n of the West Wind that his boy is here as safe an' snug as a bug in a rug."

"You seemed to allow a spell ago that we might hail a fisherman, an' send a letter ashore," Mr. Peters said in perplexity.

"It don't seem jest the thing to wait a great while for some craft to come within hail, for it stands to reason the poor man is jest about crazy thinkin' the lad's knockin' around in that boat, starvin' to death," and the keeper rubbed his chin vigorously, as if by so doing it might be possible to more readily solve the problem which was before them.

"It wouldn't be any fool of a trip from here to the mainland, at this season of the year, in a dory," Uncle Zenas suggested, and Mr. Peters cried as if he saw a way out of the difficulty.

"The first thing, whatever we agree on, is to write the letter, an' after that's been done we'll have time enough to figger how it's to be sent. I reckon it'll get there all right if you put on it the name of the captain an' the schooner, to be found at Porto Rico, eh?"

"That's what's puzzlin' me a good bit," Captain Eph replied. "I ain't sure but that there may be more than one post-office in Porto Rico. I never was on the island, so don't know much about it."

"Why not send your letter to the light?" Uncle Zenas asked. "No matter what kind of an island it is, there's bound to be a light on it."

"An' who's to tell me where or what it is?" the keeper cried petulantly. "The place may only be buoyed out, or have nothin' more'n a beacon on it."