The Life Savers: A story of the United States life-saving service

by Anonymous

  CHAPTER VII.

  SAVING LIFE.

  The men pressed forward, dragging the heavy load steadily, but atmoderate speed.

  Keeper Downey was too good a captain to urge his crew to their utmostefforts at the beginning of the journey, lest he exhaust them beforethe task was accomplished. He also knew that their services were notneeded immediately, otherwise Sam Hardy would have burned anothersignal, and again, a conclusion much to be desired, the vessel mightsucceed in working off from the dangerous situation.

  "Slow and sure is better than rapid and uncertain," the keeper shoutedcheerily, and Benny was surprised that the crew should appear almosteager for the work, which, under the most favoring circumstances incase the schooner struck, would be severe and attended with greatsuffering. He shivered as he realized that perhaps soon the clothingof these brave fellows, wet with spray, would be converted into anarmor of ice, which they must wear as best they might on this bitterwinter's night until the task of life-saving was accomplished, orproven to be fruitless.

  The cheeriness of the men was by no means allied to mirth. They weresetting out, perchance, to battle face to face with death, and realizedto the utmost all the dangers and the suffering which awaited them. Itcould also be told, from a certain manner apparent in all, that theirthoughts were with those poor fellows whose craft was drifting on tothe cruel rocks, rather than upon the possible labor which might bedemanded of them.

  Now and then as they paused for an instant, while making ready to haulthe wagon over some miniature cliff, one of the crew referred to theanxiety which must be in the hearts of those aboard the schooner, andanother expressed satisfaction that the imperilled mariners knew therewere on the shore waiting to succor them, men who were provided withevery known method for saving life under such circumstances.

  All the while as these men spoke one with another evincing anxiety forstrangers, they were fighting against the furious wind and drivingparticles of frost, and even at times, when their way lay near thewater's edge, against the volumes of surf which were flung landward bythe angry blasts.

  There was no moment when the progress was other than extremelydifficult, and Benny was absolutely obliged at times to allow them todrag him at the tail of the cart, else he would have been left farbehind; but yet those brave fellows had not a word, perhaps not athought, concerning their own labor or peril.

  "Half-way to Skinner's Point!" Joe Cushing shouted as they mounted ahill of brown rock from which the snow had been driven, and stood fora single instant to regain their breath. "Half-way to Skinner's Point,and no signal from Sam! Who can see the schooner?"

  Every eye had been directed seaward when they first gained theelevation, but it was as if the wind drove the snow yet more compactly,and the oldest surfman among them failed to see objects at a distanceof fifty feet.

  "God help the men who are drifting on to the coast this night!" KeeperDowney muttered, and then added in a cheery tone, "Get on, boys! Geton! You'll freeze if you stand loitering here, and exercise is what allof us are most needing just now."

  Benny shut his teeth tightly together when, from the movement of thewagon he knew the men were settling forward in the rope harness again,and determined to so husband his strength during the remainder of thejourney that when they came to the more difficult portions of the roadhe might be able to lend some assistance, even though feeble, ratherthan act the part of a drag on the load.

  During fifteen minutes more the men pulled and tugged, straining everymuscle to drag the heavily laden wagon over the difficult way, and thenas if by common consent another halt was made.

  "We should be seeing the schooner by this time, unless she hassucceeded in crawling off from the land," Keeper Downey said, lettinggo his hold on the cart as he advanced to the edge of the rocky cliffsand looked out over the waters.

  No more than five hundred yards in distance lay between them and thedreaded Skinner's Point, where so many vessels had met their doom, yetthe driving snow shut out all save immediate objects from their view.

  Nothing had been seen or heard from Sam Hardy, and even the keeperbegan to believe that possibly the danger had been averted from thisparticular vessel.

  Again Downey gave the word to push on; again the men strained at theropes and the handle-bar, and again they were advancing on theirmission of mercy.

  Now no one spoke; each man was too far spent with toil to dare wastebreath in cheering his comrades.

  Then, and it seemed to Benny as if they had but just started on thislast stage of the journey, a glow was seen dead ahead through thebewildering maze of dancing, whirling snow, and an exclamation ofsorrow burst from the lips of every one.

  "She has struck, boys, and now we're to work for their lives!" KeeperDowney shouted, his words causing each member of the crew to leapforward with renewed vigor, as if the knowledge of peril to others hadtaken from him all sensation of weariness.

  Benny understood from these words that the light which had been seenwas Sam's signal telling that the schooner had struck the rocks, andwhat was much like a fever came over him as he exerted all his punystrength to forcing the wagon-load of life-saving appliances on yetfaster.

  It was a race between the life savers and death, and by no possibilitycould they have won had Keeper Downey been so unwise as to push them totheir utmost speed when first setting out from the station. Now thatthe supreme struggle was at hand they had a reserve of strength whichbore them on to partial victory.

  Just how they finally succeeded in gaining the point where Sam Hardystood peering intently out over the waste of boiling waters, Bennynever knew. The last five minutes of that mad scramble was to him as adream, in which he was conscious only of making every effort to pressforward, lest by faltering he should be deemed unworthy a place amongthose whom he considered true heroes. He knew, however, that they werecome to the spot where the work could be performed, because of hearingTom Downey cry sharply as each man dropped the harness of rope to runback to the wagon and take up his proper station:

  "Stand aside, lad, and make it your business to keep out of the way."

  Benny understood that there was nothing for him to do in the way oflending aid, and realized he could only show that he might be of someservice in the future by following the instructions to the letter.

  Now had come the moment when the lad could appreciate the value of thedrilling which the men were forced to undergo day after day.

  Every member of the crew knew exactly what he should do, and did it asmethodically and quickly as if on the drill-ground back of the station.

  While the captain slung the haversack containing the ammunition overhis shoulders, Sam threw the buoy off the cart. Henderson, Jones, andBrown unloaded the shovel, pick, and sand-anchor, and proceeded at onceto fasten the latter at a point already decided upon by Mr. Downey.Cushing and Robbins took out the shot-line box. The captain and Hardyplaced the cannon a short distance to the windward of the wagon, andthe box was set down on a line with the muzzle of the gun.

  The keeper loaded with cartridges, Hardy brought the shot, which heheld for the captain to wipe, and then inserted it into the bore of thegun, forcing it down firmly on the charge. Joe Cushing wet a fathomof the shot-line and bent it into the shank of the shot with threehalf-hitches, without disturbing the fakes, and without leaving anyslack line between the gun and the shot-line box.

  Hardy and Cushing, kneeling either side of the cannon, trained themuzzle to the right or the left as Downey commanded. While this wasbeing done Sawyer unloaded and carried the crotch (two pieces of woodformed after the fashion of the letter X) to a point near the shore, ina line between the sand anchor and the wreck.

  Even Benny, who knew nothing of such labor, understood that manyseconds of valuable time must have been saved by the crew being sofamiliar with all the details of the work, and accustomed to performingeach portion of it in like manner every time.

  A description of the men at work is given at this moment in orderthat one may know exactly how
a life-saving crew goes to work, and itmust not be supposed that Keeper Downey's men, or even Benny Foster,directed their gaze all the time toward these operations, withoutglancing seaward where was the noble vessel grinding her life out uponthe cruel rocks, as her crew looked down into the face of what wouldhave been certain death but for the presence of those brave fellows onthe bluff.

  When the men halted with the wagon, and even while they were removingthe implements, every one could see the schooner as she lay not morethan a hundred and fifty yards from the shore, heading directly towardthem.

  So large was she, and with her sails holding back, as it were, much ofthe snow, even Benny could distinguish her quite distinctly, and whilehis comrades labored as do men who work in defence of their lives, hesaw portions of rail and deck torn off piece-meal by the waves whichwere striking sledge-hammer blows against the side of the doomed craft,each one sounding, even above the howling of the blasts, like thebooming of a cannon.

  Seven men could be made out now and then when the snow wreaths wereless dense, in various places of refuge about the wreck; three werealoft in the port mizzen-rigging, one in the port fore-rigging, andthree about the forecastle, or in the bowsprit. In these positions theyremained apparently immovable. It was to Benny as if they were frozenbeyond the power of movement, as indeed might have been the case, forthe night was bitterly cold.

  So near the shore did the wreck lay that it seemed impossible Downeycould miss his aim.

  Benny heard Joe Cushing say:

  "With five ounces of powder and a No. 9 shot-line bent on, there shouldbe no trouble in opening communication with those poor fellows."

  Then the keeper had adjusted the piece and pulled the lanyard.

  Benny saw a tongue of flame leap out from the mouth of the gun, andas the shot sped through the air, the line, so carefully laid in thefaking-box, uncoiled length by length, until suddenly and withoutapparent cause it parted.

  The shot sped on; but fully two thirds of the line remained in the box.

  In the shortest possible space of time, and without unnecessarywords, the cannon was reloaded with the same amount of powder and thesame-sized line as before.

  Once more appeared the tongue of flame. In the midst of it the lad, whohardly breathed because of his excitement, saw the missile as it spedonward true to its aim, dragging after it length upon length of thinline which unloosed from the box in the most perfect fashion, and thena loud cry of triumph went up from the brave fellows who had expendedso much labor to aid the unfortunate mariners.

  Even in the gloom and amid the falling snow one could see that narrow,black thread as it lay fairly across the wreck just forward of themizzen-rigging, and within easy reach of the sailors in the vicinity;but yet no one of that imperiled crew left his place of refuge to seizeupon it.

  Just for an instant the life savers on the shore stood in amazement.They had laid to hand a means of escape, and yet those who were sonear death had not moved a finger toward availing themselves of theopportunity.

  "They are most likely frozen into helplessness," Keeper Downey cried."Let's give them one more line, boys, and this time we'll send itfarther forward. There must be some one on that schooner who can helphimself, as least so far as to haul in the rope."

  Rapidly as the life savers worked before, they moved yet more quicklynow that it was understood those whom they would rescue were so nearlyunable to aid themselves.

  It seemed to Benny as if he had no more than time to count ten beforethe third faking-box had been brought from the wagon, and the gun wasreloaded, re-aimed, and discharged.

  Again he saw the narrow black line amid the white, drifting snow. Againa cry of triumph went up from those whom he called his comrades, andthis time the line lay directly across the deck of the schooner justabaft the fore-rigging, where the sailor on the port side might reachit without so much as leaving his station.

  After five seconds, perhaps, this man, whose garments had almost beenbrushed by the line-carrying shot, made no motion, and then slowly,as if it required all his strength to move so much as a finger, theunfortunate sailor stretched forth his hand until he grasped thatnarrow cord which alone remained between him and death.

  "He can't haul it in!" Sam Hardy cried in dismay. "It's more than hecan do to raise his arm."

  If the crew of the schooner could not second the efforts of the lifesavers, then indeed were they not rescued, for no man might get throughthat surf from the shore to the schooner, and the life-boat could notbe used because of shallow water and rocks.

  Every man on the bluff shouted words of encouragement which could notbe heard by those for whom they were intended; but it seemed impossibleto remain quiet while the half-dead sailors stood within reach of help,and yet were unable to grasp it.

  It was to Benny as if a full hour passed, although in fact perhapsnot more than three or four minutes elapsed before the man in thefore-rigging succeeded in thrashing his arms together, most likely tobreak the ice which, forming over his garments, encased him as ifin bonds of iron, and then, slowly at first, but more rapidly as theseconds passed, he succeeded in recovering the use of his limbs untilhe reached down and caught up the line.

  Now it was a shout of triumph which went up from those on the bluff,and the anxious lad who was bending forward over the very edge of therocks believed the sailor heard the cry, for it was as if somethingsuddenly animated him. He began hauling in on this means of escapefrom the angry waters as he turned his head toward those in themizzen-rigging, evidently urging them to come to his assistance.

  Each instant was fraught with danger for those upon the wreck. Plank byplank the schooner was being torn to pieces by the irresistible forceof the towering waves, and it needed not that one should be versed insuch matters to understand that before many moments passed one or allof the spars must go by the board.

  Now that the sailor on the wreck was hauling in the shot-line, thecrew set about making the necessary arrangements for sending aboardthe hawser, and before this had been completed Benny shouted, althoughspeaking to no one in particular:

  "The men in the mizzen-rigging are coming down! They are going to helpthemselves!"

  It was as the lad had said, for soon all save two on the forecastlewere hauling on the tackle which was made fast to the shot-line, andin perhaps ten minutes from the time the last missile was fired acrossthe deck of the wreck, the sailors had succeeded in attaching thetail-block to the mainmast.

  Now even Benny could be of assistance in manning the whip to haul thebreeches-buoy out to the ship.

  As the lad saw the buoy appearing and disappearing amid the waves,but continuing rapidly on toward the wreck, a great joy came into hisheart, and he realized then, if never before, the wondrous pleasurewhich must come to those who succeed in saving lives after a desperatebattle.

  When the buoy reached the wreck those ashore saw a man step into it,and then came the command:

  "Man the lee whip! Haul ashore!"

  Now the life savers were working to economize time. Every second mustbe utilized if that crew of seven was to be brought ashore before theschooner should have been torn to pieces.

  Anxious though Benny was, and fearful lest they should not succeedin getting even one ashore, the breeches-buoy appeared to be movingswiftly, as indeed was the case, for every man of the crew, tailing onthe whip, was working as only men can under similar circumstances.

  The first of the rescued was well-nigh helpless after gaining theshore, and now had come the time when Benny might be of some assistance.

  "Let me take care of him, sir, and it will save a man's labor when youneed all hands at the whip," the lad said as Keeper Downey approached,and the latter replied with a ring of cheeriness in his tones which hadnot been heard since the work began:

  "Here's where you'll come in handy, lad. Roust that fellow about; don'tlet him remain quiet, for he must keep the blood circulating."

  Then the weather whip was manned, and the buoy forced out toward thewreck to re
ceive another passenger. In again was it hauled, and twolives had been saved.

  "Man the weather whip! Haul out!"

  The third had taken his place in the breeches-buoy.

  "Man the lee whip! Haul ashore!"

  The third had been saved.

  And so went on the work while the tempest howled and raged; the snowwreathed and whirled as if to blind the life savers, and the sea roaredand bellowed at losing its prey; but in time--in a comparatively shorttime--six were ashore, and only one remained upon the quivering vesselwhich was now hardly more than a hulk, so sadly had the sea batteredand torn it.

  For the last time the buoy was being run out, and more than half thedistance had been traversed when suddenly, and without warning, themizzen-mast went by the board, carrying with it the mainmast.

  As the second spar fell, communication between the life savers and thispoor fellow for whom they were battling, was broken; but almost whilethe disaster was taking place Tom Downey had sprung to the gun for thepurpose of sending out another shot-line, when a cry of horror wentup--a crash was heard even above the howling of the tempest, and theforemast had fallen.

  Now it was that Benny witnessed a scene of heroism such as is seldomheard about, although often performed--heroism that is displayed duringthe winter's tempests on our rock-bound coasts, in the presence ofthose who themselves are heroes.

  When the last spar fell he who remained upon the wreck was seen to leapfrom the port-rail beyond the raffle of spars and cordage which dashedto and fro alongside, and Sam Hardy cried with a tone of admiration inhis sturdy voice:

  "That fellow has got grit, and will fight well for his life! See himstrike out!"

  The man was swimming bravely in the icy waters, and every member ofthe crew, who an instant before despaired of being able to save him,now began to hope that through his own exertions the task might beaccomplished.

  The surf was dashing a hundred feet up the side of the cliff, and thewater 'twixt the schooner and the shore so filled with wreckage thatit seemed as if the swimmer must be torn to pieces ere he could takea dozen strokes, but yet now and then, as the billows raised him onhigh, it could be seen that he was holding his own--that he was makingheadway toward the shore.

  It needed no word of command from Tom Downey to send every member ofhis crew into the foaming waters, and there, with a line stretchedfrom one to the other, the entire seven formed a chain; with Sam Hardyat the outermost end, all buried under each succeeding wave, but yetpressing outward in the hope of being able to clutch the gallantswimmer before he should become exhausted.

  Finally it seemed as if the man had gained a foothold on the rocks, forhe apparently stood in the water knee-deep one single instant, andthen a receding sea, lifting him from his footing, hurled him backwardtoward the hulk from which he had escaped.

  "Give me more rope!" Sam Hardy shouted, and Benny stifled the cry offear which came to his lips as he saw the gallant surfman swimming outto meet the half-drowned sailor.

  Then an incoming sea caught up the man who had made such a desperatestruggle for life, bore him shoreward again until he was within twentyfeet of Hardy, when one of the schooner's spars, rearing up in thewater as if raised by some giant hand, descended upon the strugglingwretch, crushing out his life as it forced him down to the bottom ofthe sea.