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

by Roy J. Snell

  CHAPTER XIV.

  NURSES AND LIGHT KEEPERS.

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

  He could understand that the first assistant might have been so excitedby the disasters in the kitchen as to be able to do what, under almostany other circumstances, would have been absolutely impossible; but insuch 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 weresupplied, Sidney would not have been surprised; in fact, he would havelooked upon it as the most natural thing possible. But the firstassistant showed no signs of weakening even now when they were absentfrom the scene of the accident; he appeared to be in as good bodilycondition as ever, and the lad was so very curious regarding thesituation that he asked abruptly:

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

  "It does seem kind'er queer, don't it?" and the first assistant rubbedthe 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'trightly know all the pertic'lars myself, although I can let in a littlelight 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 noreason why you should tell me. I was only wondering how you got well soquickly, 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'nEph 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 tounderstand why so much of an introduction was necessary to the answeringof a simple question.

  "It isn't any of my business, you know, and perhaps you'd better not sayany more," Sidney began, but Mr. Peters interrupted him as he softlyclosed 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 agood bit when I left here to go to the wreck, after Uncle Zenas haddeclared I shouldn't have a bite to eat till breakfast was ready. Itdidn't seem jest the thing for him to make me go hungry because he wasset against my savin' what I could from the _Nautilus_, an' I'll leaveit 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 thecook while he was in such distress.

  "Wa'al, he declared I shouldn't have the least little crumb, an' off Istarted on work that was as much for his benefit as my own. When I gotaboard the wreck I found it was goin' to be possible to get away with agood 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 heartgood to see! Of course it wasn't a great while before I found out thatwe was likely to have a storm, an' I jest threw the stuff together inthe 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 waslikely to lose some of my load unless it was looked after, so I ran thebow of the dory up on the lumber, an' got out to make the heaviesttimbers fast. I reckon that in movin' 'round I tilted the side of theraft down so the boat slipped off; but she was twenty yards away beforeI knew what had happened. Of course I didn't suppose that the man wouldcome after the motor so soon, an' allowed that my only chance of everseein' Carys' Ledge agin was to catch the dory.

  "Over I went without stoppin' to think that the wind would shove heralong faster'n I could swim; but it wasn't a great while before I foundthat much out. Then I started back for the raft, an' mighty hard work Ihad 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 tosome asylum."

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

  "Frozen? I was so cold, Sonny, that I couldn't tell you what my namewas, an' layin' there on the timbers with the wind blowin' half a galedidn't tend to make me any warmer. After a while, though, I got tounderstand that I'd die for sure if somethin' wasn't done, because Icounted help couldn't come till I'd drifted ashore, an' that mightn't bemuch before mornin'. Wa'al, as I figgered it, thinkin' you folks on theledge couldn't come out to help me owin' to your not havin' a boat, myonly chance was to work the raft in toward the shore faster'n the windwas carryin' her."

  "But how could you do that without oars, sir?" and Sidney was literallytrembling with suppressed excitement, as he imagined himself in Mr.Peters' position.

  "I had lumber enough to make a hundred oars, but no tools with which toput 'em in shape. I got out a piece of plankin', usin' my foot as athole-pin, an' in that way got the raft workin' more favorably in thewind; but I couldn't raise the plank high enough out of the water. A bigwave caught the outer end, an' then I got sich a clip on the stomach asknocked me silly. It looked as if I was pretty nigh my last gasp, an'jest then a sea swept me clean off the timbers. It's a solemn fact,Sonny, that I don't have any idee how I got back to the raft. The nextthing I realized, was when Cap'n Eph an' Uncle Zenas brought me interthe tower. But now comes the mean part of it."

  Mr. Peters paused, and Sidney would have spoken, but that the firstassistant checked him with a gesture, as he said sharply:

  "Don't say a word, Sonny, or my courage won't hold out to tell the wholeof the story. Until about midnight I wasn't more'n half sensible of whatwas goin' on; but after then I could have got up an' gone to work jestas well as I can now, though I felt a bit lazy, an' considerable tired.I was jest mean enough to lay there in bed an' let you three stay onwatch all night, when there was nothin' to prevent my doin' a full shareof the duty."

  "But why didn't you get up?" Sidney asked in surprise.

  "Because I was so all-fired mean, Sonny, that is the reason. I saw thatUncle Zenas was worryin' a good deal about me, an' made up my mind togive him a good dose, so the next time I wanted to start away early hewouldn't dare to say I shouldn't have breakfast till it was ready forall hands. I fixed it with myself that I'd get up sometime this mornin',an' had jest begun to come 'round gradual-like, when the troublehappened, an' 'twixt you an' me, Sonny, I'm to blame for the wholething. All I ask now is, that I may live long enough to kind'er squareup with Cap'n Eph an' Uncle Zenas for my meanness."

  Sidney was at a loss for words when the first assistant paused as ifexpecting him to make some comment, and during five minutes or more thetwo worked in silence. Then Mr. Peters said, as he gave the finishingtouches to the lens:

  "I reckon it would take a mighty smart man to say that there'd been anysmoke in this 'ere lantern, an' now we'd better go down to see what thepoor fellows are needin'. I don't expect, Sonny, that you'll ever thinkof me as anything except the meanest critter that ever walked the faceof the earth; but I'm askin' that you won't show it before the others.Life wouldn't be worth the livin', if they should know what I'd done."

  "Of course you couldn't have an idea that any accident would happenbecause of your staying in bed as you did, and so I don't think you'reas much to blame as you make out," Sidney said earnestly. "You needn'tworry that I'll ever tell Captain Eph or Uncle Zenas what you've said;but if they knew the whole story, I'm certain neither of them would lookat it as you do."

  "Is that the truth, Sonny, or are you sayin' it to make me feel a littlebetter?" Mr. Peters asked eagerly, and Sidney assured him again andagain that he had said
no more than he really believed.

  "I'll hope you're right, Sonny; but at the same time I shall never beable to see my face in a lookin' glass agin without callin' myself hardnames," Mr. Peters said with a sigh, and then he led the waydown-stairs.

  When they reached the kitchen it was to find Uncle Zenas in greater painthan when they went into the lantern, and Captain Eph explained that itwas to be expected he would suffer more each hour until the heat hadbeen drawn from the burns by the potato poultice.

  "He'll have a mighty hard time of it for two or three days, an' then,unless he's been burned worse'n we think, there'll be a change for thebetter," Captain Eph said in conclusion, and Sidney asked how he wasfeeling.

  The keeper drew aside the bandages to show the swollen andrapidly-discoloring flesh, after which he said:

  "Knowin' that it's nothin' worse'n a bad sprain, an' will come 'roundall right after a spell, I wouldn't allow that I'd got it so awful hardif we hadn't the light to look after, an' how's that to be done?"

  "Now don't fret over that a little bit, Cap'n Eph," Mr. Peters criedimploringly. "It wouldn't hurt me any if I stood watch every night tillyou an' Uncle Zenas got 'round agin; but Sonny has shown that he canlook after the light as well as either of us, an' he an' I will runthings slick as grease. He can go on watch till midnight, an' I'll takethe rest of the time, doin' all the cleanin' alone."

  "I shall do my full share of the work," Sidney cried decidedly, "and beright glad of the chance to pay you off for having been so good to me!"

  "But what about the cookin'?" Uncle Zenas groaned. "Somebody must getthe meals an' keep the kitchen cleared up."

  "I can make coffee, and boil potatoes," Sidney replied promptly."Perhaps, if you'd tell me how, I could do a good deal more. Any way, itwould be a pretty poor kind of a boy who couldn't wash dishes and sweepthe floor, and it seems as if we ought to get along in great shape."

  "You're countin' on doin' too much, Sonny; but perhaps, if Sammy takesall the care of the light, with you to stand watch the first part of thenight, you might make quite a fist at runnin' things down here,'specially since Uncle Zenas an' me will have to stay right where we canshow you how to do this or that," Captain Eph replied, and Sidney criedin surprise:

  "Are you thinking of staying here in the kitchen all the time, sir?"

  "What else can we do, Sonny?" the keeper asked grimly. "Even if UncleZenas was in condition to be moved, which he ain't, do you think you an'Sammy could get him up-stairs? You might as well try to lug an elephant,as him. An' the same holds good in my case. I wouldn't put my foot downon the floor, to step any part of my weight on it, for the best hundreddollars I ever heard tell about, an' you two couldn't carry me half-wayto my room. I've been thinkin' it all out, an' can't see any othercourse than for Uncle Zenas an' me to stay where we are."

  "If you've got to turn the kitchen inter a hospital, why wouldn't it bea good idee for me to bring the beds down here?" Mr. Peters askedeagerly. "It won't be any hard job, an' I'll get at it right away."

  "You sha'n't do anything of the kind, Sammy," and Captain Eph spoke in adecisive tone. "You ought'er be in bed yourself this very minute, an'you'd never been able to leave it if you hadn't got all worked up overour gettin' hurt. You've got a kind heart, Sammy, an' mustn't be allowedto trifle with your poor, weak body."

  A deep flush of shame overspread Mr. Peters' face, and Sidney reallypitied him. Such was the punishment to which he must submit in silencebecause of the deception he had practiced.

  "I'll look after my body, Cap'n Eph," the first assistant said after apause. "I wasn't hurt half so much as it seemed, an' bringin' thebedsteads 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 ofblankets, an' I'll bring them anyhow," Mr. Peters cried, hurrying up thestairs as if afraid the keeper might try to stop him, and Sidney couldunderstand very well why the first assistant was eager to do even morethat might not be absolutely necessary, hoping thus to atone for hisdeceit.

  It was no slight task to move Uncle Zenas from the place where he waslying to the mattress which Mr. Peters brought, and not accomplishedwithout causing the sufferer very much additional pain; but there couldbe no question as to the future benefit, and the keeper said in a toneof satisfaction:

  "That's first rate, Sammy, an' now I reckon you may bring down anotherbed for me. When that's done we'll be in fairly good condition, an' yourhospital will look a deal more ship-shape."

  By the time Captain Eph had been attended to, it was necessary Sidneyshould set about getting supper, for even the invalids needed somethingin the way of food, and, with Mr. Peters to assist him, the ladsucceeded far beyond his own anticipations.

  "Before Uncle Zenas gets around agin you'll be a first-class cook,"Captain Eph said when the supper was on the table, and Sidney washeating some of the canned soup with the hope that the second assistantwould 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 afterthe light! It won't be a great while before you can run the wholebusiness."

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

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

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

  "The fire which destroyed this light-house [the second Eddystone], whichhad withstood the fiercest storms for nearly half a century, took placein 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 drivenback by a burst of flame.

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

  "The poor keeper did what he could to put out the fire; he after a whilesucceeded in awakening the other two keepers, and they all tried tothrow water on the flames, but as it had to be brought seventy feethigh, they soon found their efforts unavailing, and, in addition, one ofthe keepers, the one who discovered the fire, was disabled by a curiousaccident.

  "While he was looking upwards, endeavoring to see the effect of thewater he had thrown, a shower of molten lead fell on his head, neck, andshoulders--part of it ran inside his shirt-collar and burned him badly;he also felt an intense burning inside, and supposed that part of thelead had passed down his throat.

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

  "Early in the morning the fire was seen on shore, and a philanthropicgentleman fitted out a fishing boat which arrived at the light-house at10 A.M. The fire had then been burning eight hours; the light keepershad been driven from the tower, and, to avoid the falling timbers andred-hot bolts, had taken refuge in the hole or cave on the east side ofthe rocks under the iron ladder, near the landing.

  "The men were stupefied, and the wind being from the east made a landingextremely hazardous, if not impracticable. They, however, were saved bythe crew first anchoring the large boat, then a small boat was rowedtoward the rock, payin
g out a rope which was attached to the large boat;when near enough to the rock a heaving-line was thrown to the men. Eachlight keeper in turn fastened the rope around his waist, and, jumpinginto the sea, was hauled into the boat.

  "As the fishing-boat could do nothing to quell the flames, it returnedto Plymouth to land the keepers; one, as soon as he got on shore, ranaway, it is supposed in a panic; the one burned by the melted lead wassent to his own home for medical attendance; he was ninety-four yearsold, but remarkably active considering his age. He told the doctor thathe had swallowed the molten lead, and that he could not be cured unlessit was removed. He lived until the twelfth day, when he suddenlyexpired--the doctor opened his stomach, and found therein a solid ovalpiece of lead weighing more than seven ounces."

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

  "If you look back a page or two, Sonny, you'll find that the one burnedwas built wholly of timber on the outside, and so was the top part ofthe inside. This tower couldn't burn flat, bein' all stone, but therooms would have been pretty well cleaned out if you an' Sammy hadn'tworked mighty lively. We came off a good deal better than those poorfellows did, an' Uncle Zenas can thank his lucky stars that it wasmelted 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 thepossibilities. "We might have been forced to stay here a long whilebefore any one came to take us off."

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

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

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

  "One day the dwellers on the coast picked up on the beach a caskinscribed, 'Open this and you will find a letter'; inside was acarefully-sealed bottle, and in the bottle a document 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 thatat the beginning of the nineteenth century there was a winter so stormythat for four months the two keepers were entirely cut off from anysuccor from shore. It was in vain that vessels were sent to the rock,the furious sea always prevented a landing. One of them returned one daywith a strange report. Its crew had seen a man, standing motionless, ina 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 lookswere cast at the light-house to see if its light would be shown, andeach evening it shone brightly, proof that some one was still there. Butwere 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 atSmalls in an intermission of calm weather, brought to Solway the twokeepers, but one of them was a corpse. The survivor had made a coffinfor his dead comrade, then, after having carried it to a corner of thegallery, he had stood it on end, attaching it firmly. Left alone he haddone good service. When returned on shore he was so changed, soemaciated, that his relatives and friends could scarcely recognize him.He asserted that his comrade had died of disease; he was believed, butafter this time there were always three keepers at Smalls in the placeof two--a wise precaution which has since been taken for light-housesplaced in similar conditions."

  "I ain't certain as that is very cheerful readin' for us," Captain Ephsaid grimly. "It's too near hittin' our own case, seein's how every oneof 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 alight 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'venever been as bad off as you an' Uncle Zenas believed."

  Sidney fancied that the first assistant 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 waveswashin' clean over both you an' her. Uncle Zenas an' me felt mightilydown 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' youshouldn't have any breakfast, Sammy," Uncle Zenas said, his voicetremulous with pain. "I hope you won't lay it up agin me, for we've beenin danger too often to let anything come between us, an' when I getso's I can stand on my feet, you may kick me all 'round this ledge atlow water."

  "Don't, Uncle Zenas, don't!" Mr. Peters cried passionately. "I might'ergot out of bed a good deal sooner than I did, but for sulkin', an' ifI'd been a decent kind of a man, we wouldn't be havin' all this troublenow!"

  "Sammy!" Captain Eph cried sharply. "What do you mean by runnin'yourself down like that? Uncle Zenas an' I have summered an' winteredwith you, an' know there ain't a mean bone in your body, so don't let'shear any more 'bout your bein' to blame for what happened this day. If Ihadn't yelled so loud, the fat wouldn't have been spilled, an' then Ishouldn't have blundered down-stairs like an old fool."

  Mr. Peters rose to his feet, and again Sidney felt certain he was on thepoint 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 gostraight to bed without openin' your mouth agin. It's got to be done, ifyou count on standin' a long watch. Don't answer me back, Sammy Peters,but start this minute!"

  The first assistant hesitated an instant, half turned toward UncleZenas, and then ran up the stairs as rapidly as possible, causingCaptain Eph to say in a low tone:

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