by Anonymous
CHAPTER III.
BENNY'S STORY.
When, at a late hour next morning, the boy and the dog camedown-stairs, the former appearing bewildered, and the latter hanginghis tail as if doubtful of the reception he might meet with, onlyKeeper Downey and Surfman Sam Hardy were to be seen.
The other members of the crew were engaged outside in the effort tosave such wreckage as the yet angry waters rolled in toward the shore.
A bright-looking little fellow was this survivor of the terribledisaster, although not seen at his best while clad only in hisundergarments, and shivering in the frosty air despite the volumes ofheat sent out by the glowing stove. The mercury in the thermometer hadfallen below the zero mark, and the wind found every crevice and crackin the building, situated as it was on the open shore where nothing inthe way of a shelter broke the force of the northeast gales.
"Well, lad, you're looking bright this morning," the keeper cried in acheery tone. "Hungry?"
"I can take my share of breakfast when it's ready, and I guess Fluffwon't turn up his nose at warm coffee."
"A dog drinking coffee!" Sam Hardy cried, with a laugh that had in it anote of the tempest.
"Yes, sir; Mrs. Clark always gave him a little out of her own cup. Hasshe come ashore yet?"
"No, lad," the keeper replied gravely. "None save you and the dog livedthrough last night."
"They can't be dead!" the boy cried in alarm, and as the full meaningof the words dawned upon him, the tears came. "Surely some of the menwould have looked out for Mrs. Clark! She was coming ashore the sameway I did."
"Had they lashed her to a spar before you were set adrift?"
"The captain had everything ready: but I was tied on first, 'cause shewanted to be certain Fluff would be tucked inside my coat properly.Surely she'll come soon?"
"You may as well know the truth at once, lad; I'm not a man whobelieves in keeping back bad tidings, because they must be told at sometime. Even if Mrs. Clark was set adrift on a spar, she couldn't havelived through the night. You are the only survivor of the wreck."
"Where is the ship?"
"The waves have knocked her to pieces long before this, and our creware out looking after the wreckage as it comes ashore."
While one might have counted ten the lad stood looking at the keepersearchingly, and then, gathering the dog in his arms, he gave vent tothe grief that had so suddenly come into his heart.
"We'll leave him alone for a spell, Sam," the keeper whispered. "It'lldo him good to have a good cry, and seeing's we've got little chance ofsending in a report till after the storm clears up, there's no sense inbothering him with questions."
Then the two kind-hearted men tiptoed softly out of the station, lestthe sound of their footsteps might add to the grief in the boy's heart,and the dog, pricking up his ears as if understanding every wordspoken, apparently listened to the first outpouring of sorrow and utterdesolation.
"It can't be possible, Fluffy, that every one has been drowned! Itcouldn't be, God would take Captain Clark and his wife, with all thecrew, leaving only you an' me here! Why, Fluff! If the man told usthe truth, what'll become of us? We're alone in the world, do youunderstand that? Nobody who'll help us anywhere! What'll become of you,my poor little man, and she loved you so dearly!"
As if in reply the dog licked the boy's face, and this evidence ofaffection appeared but to render more heavy the grief, for, throwinghimself upon the floor, holding his dumb companion yet more closely,the poor lad gave way to the sorrow which had come with such cruelsuddenness upon him.
He was yet in this position when the keeper and two of the crew enteredthe building an hour later.
In the boat-house, covered with flags, were the bodies of the captainand his wife, and near by lay three of the crew, all in the awfulsilence and stillness of death.
Keeper Downey laid his hand on the boy's shoulder to attract hisattention, and the dog, mistaking this friendly touch for an attack,sprang up, barking furiously, until it seemed as if the volume of soundmust shatter the tiny body.
Sam Hardy took it upon himself to make friends with the little animal,and since the keeper no longer attempted to touch the sorrowing lad,Fluff ceased his shrill yelps.
"Listen to me, lad," the keeper said, throwing a coat over thehalf-clad form. "It's cruel sorrow that has come upon you; butremember that there are others in this world who have been as cruellyafflicted,--that you are not alone in your grief. Somewhere are wivesand children waiting for the return of the poor fellows who went downwith the ship, and you must not be selfish in your sorrow."
The boy looked up with swollen eyes, inquiringly.
"Yes, my boy, you are selfish to give way to all that's in your heartwhen it is possible you can be of service to others."
"What do you mean, sir?"
"Sad as the news will be to many, it is necessary they should learn ofwhat happened last night, and you are the only one who can tell thestory. I must make a report on the wreck, and am looking to you forthe information. There is yet something to be done--the last in thisworld--by friends and relatives for such of the bodies as come ashore,and if you give way to selfish sorrow, the word cannot be sent out fromhere."
The lad was on his feet in an instant, and, choking back the sobs asbest he might, while the dog nestled contentedly in his arms, he asked:
"Tell me what you want, sir."
"First, the name of the ship."
"She was the _Amazonia_, from Calcutta to Boston, David Clark, master."
"Do you know how much of a crew she carried?"
"Twenty-five, all told."
"Any other women except the captain's wife?"
"No, sir."
"What is your name?"
"Benjamin H. Foster; but Mrs. Clark always called me 'Benny,'" the ladreplied, and at mention of the woman's name his grief overwhelmed himonce more.
The eyes of the keeper and his comrades were not free from a certainmoisture, and more than one furtively passed the sleeve of his roughcoat across his face as all waited for the lad to recover his composurein a measure.
"I'll try not to cry again, sir," Benny said piteously, afterstruggling a moment to force back the tears.
"It is well you should grieve, lad; don't think I blamed you for doingwhat is only natural. When it is possible you shall tell all you knowabout the ship and her voyage, giving the names of those members of thecrew that come to mind."
Two hours or more passed before Benny had concluded the sad story, andthen Keeper Downey was in possession of such facts as were necessaryfor the proper making up of his official report.
According to Benny's tale the _Amazonia_ had sailed from Calcutta,India, on the 15th of February, and, because of previous disasters, thevoyage had consumed almost ten months, during which time the ship hadcovered a distance equal to one half the circuit of the globe.
She was loaded with ten thousand bales of jute; while crossing theIndian Ocean she had run into a cyclone and been dismasted. Underjury-rig the ship was worked to Port Louis, Mauritius, where, afterbeing unloaded, she was thoroughly overhauled and repaired. Not untilthe middle of September was the voyage resumed, and nothing of noteoccurred until the vicinity of the Bermudas was reached, when frequentsqualls set in, following the vessel until she made the coast of theUnited States.
Captain Clark had not been able to take an observation for severaldays, and, therefore, was forced to rely upon what mariners term"dead reckoning." Two days prior to the wreck he spoke a New Yorkpilot-boat, from which he learned his whereabouts, but after passingGeorge's Shoal, about one hundred miles to the eastward of Cape Cod, hedetermined to shape his course straight to the westward until sightingthe land.
Notwithstanding the lack of observations to determine his situation,the captain might easily have discovered his danger by sounding, butinstead of doing so he held his course steadily without recourse to thelead, until the dark, gloomy outline of the land loomed up, ominous andforbidding.
It was evide
nt from Benny's story that Captain Clark realized at oncethe impossibility of working the ship off from that lee shore, becauseto the best of the lad's belief it must have been half an hour beforethe ill-fated craft struck the rocks when he was lashed to the spar,while at the same time preparations were being made to care for thecaptain's wife in similar fashion.
"It is only in case anything should happen that this is being done,"Mrs. Clark said to the boy, with the evident purpose of strengtheninghis courage. "It may be that all will go well with us, and then you andyour Fluff will only have had a little disagreeable experience."
Twice before the final crash came did one of the crew speak words ofcheer to the lad, who was unable to see what might be going on aroundhim, and from the nature of such remarks he believed all hands feltcertain the _Amazonia_ must strike the coast.
That, in substance, was all the information Benny could give regardingsuch matters as must be embodied in the keeper's report; but the men,curious to know how he chanced to be aboard the ship, plied him withquestions, and when they had been answered the story of Benny Foster'slife was told.
When quite young, he and his mother had sailed in the ship _West Wind_,of which his father was the captain, on what the lad believed was tobe a long voyage; but he failed to remember the port to which the shipwas bound. However, so far as concerned him, that was of no particularimportance.
At some time--Benny thought he might have been six years of age justthen--his father was taken ill in the port of Calcutta, and it wasnecessary to provide a new master for the ship.
Captain Foster and his family took lodgings ashore, and within a yearBenny was both motherless and fatherless. From that time on he had beencared for in haphazard fashion by such acquaintances as his parents hadformed, and he believed some efforts were made toward learning if hehad any relatives in the United States.
Whether anything was accomplished in that direction he could not say;but simply knew that in January of this same year Captain Clark soughthim out for the purpose of carrying him to Boston, having learned ofhis condition from an American merchant in Calcutta.
On board the _Amazonia_ he performed any light tasks which would havecome within a cabin-boy's line of duty; but was treated by Mrs. Clarkas a friend rather than a servant, and so intimate an acquaintance hadsprung up between himself and Fluff that he came to consider it hisespecial duty to care for the little Angora terrier, whose bright pinkeyes gleaming out from amid the fluff of silken white hair gave him theappearance of being a remarkably intelligent animal.
"And he's just as bright as he looks," Benny said, as he concluded thepoor story of his own life, while he hugged the dog yet closer to hisbosom. "Fluff knows almost everything I say to him, and what he don'tjust understand he guesses at. Why, before we had been out a week, Mrs.Clark let him sleep with me in my berth, and when it was heavy weatherthis poor little fellow would almost the same as talk to me, scoldingbecause the jumping of the ship made him feel badly. His name was FluffClark, of course; but now that he hasn't got anybody in all this wideworld but me, I'm going to adopt him, and he'll be Fluff C. Fosterafter this."
"It strikes me there's need of some one adopting you, lad," KeeperDowney said with a grave smile. "I'm not certain but that Fluff isbetter able to care for himself than you are."
"He's too good a dog to need much caring for. Why, all he'd eat in aday wouldn't amount to a cent's worth, though he's mighty particularabout having things fixed up just such a way, and his pink nose willwrinkle quick when there's nothing but salt beef left over for him.We always had lump sugar to give him for a treat; but he'd get alongwithout that if he knew I couldn't afford to buy it for him. It wouldsurprise you to see how much that dog knows."
Then Benny, eager that his pet should be duly appreciated, exhibitedthe dog in his various tricks, and the members of the crew, seeingthat by such means the lad's thoughts were kept from his great loss,applauded the performance until Fluff had shown himself half a dozentimes over in his various acrobatic feats.
Keeper Downey rewarded the dumb performer, who certainly sustained thereputation which his young master had given him, and it was almost asif those cold, silent forms in the boat-room had been forgotten.
Benny's clothing was thoroughly dried, and while Fluff entertained thecrew, the lad fully dressed himself, donning an old pea-jacket manysizes too large, which had been wrapped about him when he was lashed tothe spar.
Keeper Downey set about making his report to the Department, based oninformation supplied by the only survivor of the _Amazonia_, and themen resumed their duties of watching for wreckage from the ill-fatedship, leaving the homeless boy and his only friend comparatively alone.
During the remainder of this day every man took good care that Bennyshould not find his way into the boat-room, and all seemed to believeit their duty to prevent the lad's thoughts from straying back into thepast.
A toy full-rigged ship, which one of the crew had fashioned duringhis hours of leisure, was brought down from its shelf that Bennymight make a critical examination of it, and each in turn had some oddsouvenir or curious memento of the sea to attract the lad's attention,until, from the appearance of the mess-table, one would have said aparty of children were being entertained.
Despite all their efforts, however, Benny's mind would go back to theterrible evening just spent, and many times while the kindly heartedmen were doing their best to cause forgetfulness, the big tearsoverflowed his eyelids, although the boy did his best to repress them.
When evening came, and supper had been served, both Benny and Fluffwere ready to retire, and after the lad was tucked snugly in SamHardy's bed with the dog's pink nose resting over his arm, such of thecrew as were not on duty came together to discuss the future of thesewaifs who had been thrown up by the sea into their keeping.
There was no formality attending this conference. From Keeper Downey toSurfman Sawyer, all appeared to believe that the lad and the dog wereunder the especial protection of the crew attached to this station,and not one made any effort to shift the responsibility to another'sshoulders.
"It stands to reason that the captain of the _Amazonia_ did not knowanything about the lad's people, otherwise he or his wife must havesaid something that Benny would have overheard," Keeper Downey began,by way of opening what all tacitly understood was a meeting of the"board of guardians." "It may be that when the story of the wreck istold in the newspapers, as will be done by to-morrow, some one comesforward to claim the lad, though I doubt it. Now there is nothing inthe Service as provides for such as he, except so far as giving foodand shelter to the shipwrecked until they can be removed to otherquarters."
"And I allow it wouldn't be according to regulations for us to keephim here?" Joe Cushing said interrogatively, and Keeper Downey repliedemphatically:
"Not unless we have permission from headquarters. But whether that canbe gained or not goes beyond me."
"Suppose we don't keep him? Allow that we send him away?" Henry Robbinsasked. "Where could a boy like him be put?"
"There's no other place but the poorhouse, if it so be he hasn't anyrelatives."
"He sha'n't go there, if I have to pay for his keeping out of my ownpocket," Sam Hardy said decidedly, whereat the other members of thecrew applauded, taking care to make but little noise lest the sleeperin the chamber above should be awakened.
Then Keeper Downey continued, much as if some motion had been put,seconded, and carried:
"Since we are all agreed that Benny and Fluff are on our hands until abetter home can be found for 'em, the question comes as to how we'lldivide the expense."
"Let the cost be put equally among the crew," Joe Cushing suggested."It can't take such a terrible amount of money to keep this littleshaver and his toy dog."
"We'll let every man contribute according to his wages," Keeper Downeysaid, in the tone of one who has finally settled the question. "Thatwill be the fairest way, and, as Joe says, we never shall miss itin the long run. It's where we can keep him
that is going to be thehardest thing to settle on."
"If we pay his bills and he don't cost the Government a cent, what'sto prevent having him with us all the time?" Dick Sawyer asked. "I'llguarantee that if we fix up a letter to the General Superintendent ofthe Life-Saving Service, giving the particulars, and explaining thatthe boy can help us a good bit in the way of washing dishes, trimminglanterns, and that sort of work, there won't be a question raised asto his sharing a bed with one of us. I'll take him in with me, when itcomes to that."
"But would it be right to keep the lad out here?"--and it was asif Tom Downey asked the question of himself. "According to his ownstory, he hasn't had over much schooling, and nowadays a boy who ain'tconsiderable of a scholar cuts a pretty poor figure."
"It won't do any harm if that sort of business is held off for anotheryear,"--and Joe Cushing leaned forward eagerly as if fearing lest hiscompanions might disagree with him. "I think on these long winter daysit will be mighty pleasant to have a little shaver like him toddlinground here with his dog, and now the spring is so near at hand hewouldn't get much of a whack at schoolin' before vacation-time comes.Besides, it would be cruel to send him off just now, for he's beginningto get acquainted with us, and if you put him among strangers suddenlyall of last night's business would come back to him harder than ever."
It could readily be seen that every member of the crew was as eagerto keep Benny and Fluff with them, for a time at least, as was JoeCushing, but Tom Downey insisted that they had no right to thus deprivethe boy of the opportunity to attend school, and a long discussionfollowed, the result of which was extremely satisfying to Joe Cushing.
"It's agreed that we keep the lad here until next fall, if it so bepermission is given by the Department," Keeper Downey said at length,summing up the result of the arguments, "and if the rules of theService won't allow his staying, we'll look around for a boarding-placeas near to the station as may be; but I reckon there ain't much needof figgerin' on that, because the United States Government can't makeany kick about giving shelter to a little shaver like Benny, especiallywhen it don't cost a cent."
"Suppose you start the letter now?" Joe Cushing suggested. "If it goesin with your report I allow it'll have greater weight, seein' that thewhole story will be fresh in the minds of the officials."
The remainder of the crew believed Joe's suggestion was timely, andKeeper Downey did not need much urging to set him about the taskimmediately.
After referring the Superintendent to the official report of the wreck,Downey gave briefly the story Benny had told concerning himself, makingthe request that the boy be allowed to remain at the station duringsuch time as the crew were willing to provide for his wants, andconcluding with the following statement:
"It won't take a cent out of the government, for we, as a crew, haveagreed to pay his bills till he can manage affairs for himself, andthe little he costs will be more than balanced by what labor he canperform. He appears to be a willing lad, and there's many an odd job hecan do when we have a long spell of hard work. It will be a good tradefor us, whichever way you look at the matter, and surely the people ofthis big country won't begrudge the giving of a shelter to a boy whohas been in such hard luck, especially when there'll be absolutely nooutlay on his account."
"If that don't fix things, then the Life-Saving Service is run underdifferent rules and regulations than I've always reckoned on," JoeCushing said in a tone of satisfaction. "I allow we can count on havingBenny and Fluff with us so long as we pay their bills, and I'm going tomake first-class surf men out of them both, or know the reason why."
