The Columbian fountain., 1845-11-08
ISCELLANEOUS
THE PILOTS BOY
BY C. j. PETERSON.

| The storm ragged loud and fierce. The
wind swept wildly over the waste Of waters,
catching the spray in its embrace and hurling
it furiously onward, SO that the ocean seem
ed vast sheet of foam. The clouds hung
low and dark, scowling on the terrible vor-
tex below. 1t was one of the most awful
Etempests that had for years devastated the
Atlantic coast.
On low, sandy beach, against which the
waves thundered until the ground shook be-
meath them, stood mother and her daughter,
gazing anxiously seaward, regardless Of the
storm. So powerful was the wind that they
could with difficulty stand; yet they fear
lessly kept their watch, shading their eyes
with their hands to keep off the spray, appa-
rently looking for some object on the ocean.
Suddenly the child cried:
"Mother! there they arep'
She pointed with a trembling finger as she
spoke, and followingits direction, the mother
beheld a white speck, like flake Of snow,
amid the dark waters, on the horizon. 1t
rose and fell, but kept increasing III size, as
if approaching.
80! Lord, II thank thee,' said the moth
er, clasping her hands and looking up to
heaven. "The father of my babes yet lives,
save him for thy sake"
1t Itwould have melted the sternest heart to
have heard the deep emotion with which she
dthat prayer. Thenwith hands clasped
before her, She stood silent, watching the
little bark which contained her husband and
her only boy. And bravely did that gallant
craft struggle through the tempest Now it
would be lost to sight in whirlwind Of
foam as it plunged through head-sea, and
now it would re-appear, its white sail glanc-
ing like the wing of gull. AtAtimes the
wind would press with such force on the
close-reefed canvass as to lay her mast near
| ly level with the pillows, so that the mothers
heart nearly sunk within her, for it seemed
then as if the braye bark would neyerrecoyer
herself; and again the frail spar would strug-
gle upwards, and the boat skim along for
space, Ikea spirit walking the deep
For nearly half an hour, the little bark
was thus visible; and during that period the
suspense of the mother was worse than the
most intoerable agony. One while she saw
herself bereft of those she loved, and again
hope would resume its sway in the bosom,
only, however, to be again overthrown BY
the next surge that broke over the devoted
craft 1t seemed miracle that the boat had
lived SO long; and even the sanguine hopes
of mother could not long persuade her she
should see her darling boy again.
At length, one mountainous billow was
seen advancing, its huge breast lifting itself
slowly up, the masses of waters piling one
over another, until they seemed to mingle
with the black clouds above; then speck
Of foam suddenly appeared on the extreme
top Of the wave, which spreading rapidly to
right and left, until the crest was every
where crowned with it, the huge bulk of
piled up waters tumbling headlong, and the
boat, which had been seen a second before
laboring in the trough of the sea beneath,
was lost to sight forever in the white and
cha6ng whirlpool
The mother held her breath as the waters
fell, and remained, like one struck by a basi-
lisk, gazing on the fierce vortex, as if hoping
against hope, that the boat would re-appear
but moment after moment passed, until il
seemed to her as if hours had elapsed, and
yet no sign of the bark was visible Att
length the waters partially subsided another
billow swept over the place, where the first
had broken; and then the mast of the little
craft rolled upward but the hull was no
where visible.
sThey are lcst-oh my dear father-and
Harry-mothel can't you save them % said
the child, in accents of the most heart-break-
ing grief.
But the motler answered not. She looked
wildly at her laughter, and then ran, like one
distracted, to he edge of the surf, venturing
so far down With the undertow that it APP
peared incredible that she could escape the
angry breakes. Here she strained here
again to see she could catch glimpse of
the crew of he ill-iated boat. But nothing
was visible except the black surges, capped
with foam; and no sound was heard but the
roar of the hurricane: s1Oh Father in hca-
ven - she cied in accents Of that stony grief,
which onceheard, lives forever in the mem
ory. 6 save my child-savc him even yetp'
AT that Instant, dark mass appeared on
the crest o breaker, and with a cry of Joy
the mothei saw the form of her darling boy
close at hmd.-The next moment the boy
was hurled towards her, and rushing reck
lessly inp the surf, she caught the child by
its cloths and hurried inward to gain the dry
| lo,J hohrn a Second S,,tup Shpuld ovprtakp |