The Light Keepers Part 32

"I'll look after my body, Cap'n Eph," the first a.s.sistant said after a pause. "I wasn't hurt half so much as it seemed, an' bringin' the bedsteads down wouldn't hurt a flea."

"We can't have 'em here, Sammy. There isn't room enough in the kitchen, an' we shall be comfortable the way you've rigged things."

"The mattresses won't take up any more room than those piles of blankets, an' I'll bring them anyhow," Mr. Peters cried, hurrying up the stairs as if afraid the keeper might try to stop him, and Sidney could understand very well why the first a.s.sistant was eager to do even more that might not be absolutely necessary, hoping thus to atone for his deceit.

It was no slight task to move Uncle Zenas from the place where he was lying to the mattress which Mr. Peters brought, and not accomplished without causing the sufferer very much additional pain; but there could be no question as to the future benefit, and the keeper said in a tone of satisfaction:

"That's first rate, Sammy, an' now I reckon you may bring down another bed for me. When that's done we'll be in fairly good condition, an' your hospital will look a deal more s.h.i.+p-shape."

By the time Captain Eph had been attended to, it was necessary Sidney should set about getting supper, for even the invalids needed something in the way of food, and, with Mr. Peters to a.s.sist him, the lad succeeded far beyond his own antic.i.p.ations.

"Before Uncle Zenas gets around agin you'll be a first-cla.s.s cook,"

Captain Eph said when the supper was on the table, and Sidney was heating some of the canned soup with the hope that the second a.s.sistant would swallow it. "Beats all how handy you are. Haven't been on Carys'

Ledge hardly long enough to get acquainted, an' know how to look after the light! It won't be a great while before you can run the whole business."

"It would be funny if I couldn't do a little bit, when all of you have shown me how," Sidney replied with a laugh, but secretly he was well pleased at being thus praised.

That evening, after the lamp in the lantern had been lighted, and the invalids were cared for as well as possible under the circ.u.mstances, Sidney spoke of the possibility that the tower might have been burned, and asked Captain Eph if light-houses had ever been entirely destroyed by fire.

"If you'll go into my room an' get a book called _Ancient an' Modern Light-Houses_, which was written by Major Heap of the Army, I'll show you a story about the burnin' of the second Eddystone light--you remember that the first was carried away by the sea," the keeper replied, and believing it might cause the invalids to forget in some slight degree their sad condition, Sidney went hurriedly for the book in question, reading aloud, after Captain Eph had found the story, that which is set down here:

"The fire which destroyed this light-house [the second Eddystone], which had withstood the fiercest storms for nearly half a century, took place in December, 1755. The keeper going to snuff the candles at 2 A.M., found the lantern full of smoke, and when he opened the door was driven back by a burst of flame.

"The candles were twenty-four in number, and weighed two and one-half pounds each; their long continued use must have thoroughly dried the wood-work of the lantern, which, besides, was probably covered with soot, so that a spark would easily ignite it.

"The poor keeper did what he could to put out the fire; he after a while succeeded in awakening the other two keepers, and they all tried to throw water on the flames, but as it had to be brought seventy feet high, they soon found their efforts unavailing, and, in addition, one of the keepers, the one who discovered the fire, was disabled by a curious accident.

"While he was looking upwards, endeavoring to see the effect of the water he had thrown, a shower of molten lead fell on his head, neck, and shoulders--part of it ran inside his s.h.i.+rt-collar and burned him badly; he also felt an intense burning inside, and supposed that part of the lead had pa.s.sed down his throat.

"The three men gave up the unequal struggle and descended from room to room, as they were driven by the heat and melting metal.

"Early in the morning the fire was seen on sh.o.r.e, and a philanthropic gentleman fitted out a fis.h.i.+ng boat which arrived at the light-house at 10 A.M. The fire had then been burning eight hours; the light keepers had been driven from the tower, and, to avoid the falling timbers and red-hot bolts, had taken refuge in the hole or cave on the east side of the rocks under the iron ladder, near the landing.

"The men were stupefied, and the wind being from the east made a landing extremely hazardous, if not impracticable. They, however, were saved by the crew first anchoring the large boat, then a small boat was rowed toward the rock, paying out a rope which was attached to the large boat; when near enough to the rock a heaving-line was thrown to the men. Each light keeper in turn fastened the rope around his waist, and, jumping into the sea, was hauled into the boat.

"As the fis.h.i.+ng-boat could do nothing to quell the flames, it returned to Plymouth to land the keepers; one, as soon as he got on sh.o.r.e, ran away, it is supposed in a panic; the one burned by the melted lead was sent to his own home for medical attendance; he was ninety-four years old, but remarkably active considering his age. He told the doctor that he had swallowed the molten lead, and that he could not be cured unless it was removed. He lived until the twelfth day, when he suddenly expired--the doctor opened his stomach, and found therein a solid oval piece of lead weighing more than seven ounces."

"I don't understand how a tower could be burned," Sidney said thoughtfully as he ceased reading, and Captain Eph replied:

"If you look back a page or two, Sonny, you'll find that the one burned was built wholly of timber on the outside, and so was the top part of the inside. This tower couldn't burn flat, bein' all stone, but the rooms would have been pretty well cleaned out if you an' Sammy hadn't worked mighty lively. We came off a good deal better than those poor fellows did, an' Uncle Zenas can thank his lucky stars that it was melted fat instead of lead which fell on him."

"Suppose the inside of the tower had burned," Sidney continued, seemingly finding a certain fascination in speculating upon the possibilities. "We might have been forced to stay here a long while before any one came to take us off."

"Ay, Sonny, that is true, but even then we wouldn't have been as badly off as other light-house keepers and builders have been. There's a story in that same book about the Smalls light-house, off the west coast of Wales. Find that an' read it, so's we can see how much we've got to be thankful for, even if we are disabled an' in a kitchen-hospital."

Sidney did as the keeper requested, and read the following, to which even Uncle Zenas listened with apparent interest:

"In the summer of 1772 Whiteside first made the acquaintance of the place on which he was to indelibly engrave his name. He disembarked on the rocks with a gang of Cornish miners, and the obstacles which they met at the commencement of the work nearly disgusted him with the enterprise. He and his companions had started the work when a storm suddenly broke upon them. The wind blew with great force, and the cutter which had brought them had to fly before the fury of the gale. The workmen left on the rock hung on the best they could for two days and nights. Whiteside was not discouraged, and finally brought the work to a successful end, but not without being exposed to many dangers.

"One day the dwellers on the coast picked up on the beach a cask inscribed, 'Open this and you will find a letter'; inside was a carefully-sealed bottle, and in the bottle a doc.u.ment as follows:

"'Smalls, February 1, 1777.

"'Sir,--Finding ourselves at this moment in the most critical and dangerous condition, we hope that Providence will guide this letter to you, and that you will immediately come to our succor.

Send to seek for us before spring, or we will perish, I fear; our supply of wood and water is almost exhausted, and our house is in the most sad state. We do not doubt that you would come to seek us as promptly as possible. We can be reached at high tide in almost any weather. I have no need to tell you more, you will comprehend our distress, and I remain,

"'Your humble servant, "'H. Whiteside.

"'We were surprised on the 23 January by a tempest; since that time we have not been able to light the temporary light for want of oil and candles. We fear we have been forgotten.

"'Ed. Edwards. G. Adams. J. Price.

"'P.S. We do not doubt that the person in whose hands this will fall will be sufficiently charitable to send it to Th. Williams, Esq., Trelethen, near St. Davids, Wales.'

"The history of Smalls has other and darker pages. It is related that at the beginning of the nineteenth century there was a winter so stormy that for four months the two keepers were entirely cut off from any succor from sh.o.r.e. It was in vain that vessels were sent to the rock, the furious sea always prevented a landing. One of them returned one day with a strange report. Its crew had seen a man, standing motionless, in a corner of the exterior gallery. Near him floated a signal of distress.

But was he dead or alive? No one could say. Each evening anxious looks were cast at the light-house to see if its light would be shown, and each evening it shone brightly, proof that some one was still there. But were both keepers alive, and if there were but one who was the survivor?

This was learned later.

"One evening a fisher from Milford, who had succeeded in landing at Smalls in an intermission of calm weather, brought to Solway the two keepers, but one of them was a corpse. The survivor had made a coffin for his dead comrade, then, after having carried it to a corner of the gallery, he had stood it on end, attaching it firmly. Left alone he had done good service. When returned on sh.o.r.e he was so changed, so emaciated, that his relatives and friends could scarcely recognize him.

He a.s.serted that his comrade had died of disease; he was believed, but after this time there were always three keepers at Smalls in the place of two--a wise precaution which has since been taken for light-houses placed in similar conditions."

"I ain't certain as that is very cheerful readin' for us," Captain Eph said grimly. "It's too near hittin' our own case, seein's how every one of this 'ere crew has come near bein' killed, an' if that had happened, our little Sonny would have been in a worse way than a young girl in a light not far from here, which we'll read about some other time."

"Don't say that I came near dyin', Cap'n Eph," Mr. Peters cried. "I've never been as bad off as you an' Uncle Zenas believed."

Sidney fancied that the first a.s.sistant was about to confess his deceit; but if such was the case, Captain Eph prevented him by saying sharply:

"I don't know how a man could be in much harder sleddin' than you, Sammy, when that 'ere raft was drivin' before the wind, with the waves was.h.i.+n' clean over both you an' her. Uncle Zenas an' me felt mightily down at the mouth 'bout that time, for we reckoned sure you was dead."

"An' I called myself all kinds of an old villain for declarin' you shouldn't have any breakfast, Sammy," Uncle Zenas said, his voice tremulous with pain. "I hope you won't lay it up agin me, for we've been in danger too often to let anything come between us, an' when I get so's I can stand on my feet, you may kick me all 'round this ledge at low water."

"Don't, Uncle Zenas, don't!" Mr. Peters cried pa.s.sionately. "I might'er got out of bed a good deal sooner than I did, but for sulkin', an' if I'd been a decent kind of a man, we wouldn't be havin' all this trouble now!"

"Sammy!" Captain Eph cried sharply. "What do you mean by runnin'

yourself down like that? Uncle Zenas an' I have summered an' wintered with you, an' know there ain't a mean bone in your body, so don't let's hear any more 'bout your bein' to blame for what happened this day. If I hadn't yelled so loud, the fat wouldn't have been spilled, an' then I shouldn't have blundered down-stairs like an old fool."

Mr. Peters rose to his feet, and again Sidney felt certain he was on the point of making a confession; but once more Captain Eph checked him.

"You're all wore up, Sammy, an' that's the fact. Now I want you to go straight to bed without openin' your mouth agin. It's got to be done, if you count on standin' a long watch. Don't answer me back, Sammy Peters, but start this minute!"

The first a.s.sistant hesitated an instant, half turned toward Uncle Zenas, and then ran up the stairs as rapidly as possible, causing Captain Eph to say in a low tone:

"Poor Sammy! He's so soft-hearted that our gettin' hurt has broke him all up, an' we've got to keep our eye out, Uncle Zenas, or he'll be down sick through worryin' 'bout us."