Vermont daily transcript. [volume] (St. Albans, Vt.) 1868-1870, 1869-04-23
The Heroine Of LULe E,ic.
BY JOHN q. WHITTIER.

The dark, stormy close of November.
1854, found many vessels on Lake Erie,
but the fortunes of one alone have spc-
cial interest for us. About that time
the Schooner Conductor, owned by j.
Mcleod of the Provincial Parliament, a
resident of Amherstburg, ut the mouth
of the Detroit River, entered the lake
from that river, bound for Port Dal-
housie, at the mouth of the Welland
Canal. She was heavily loaded with
grain. Her crew consisted of Captain
Hackett, Highland by birth, and u
skilful and experienced navigator, and
six sailors. At nightfall, shortly after
leaving the head of the lake, one of
those terrific storms, with which the
late autumnal navigatOrs of that "Sea
of the Woods are all too familiar, over
took them. The weather was intensely
cold for the season the air was filled
with snow and sleet; the chilled water
made ice rapidly, cncumbering the
schooner, and leading down her decks
and rigging. AS the gale increased, the
tops of the waves were shorn Off by the
fierce blasts, clouding the whole atmos-
phere with frozen spray, or what the
sailors call spoon-drift,o rendering it
impossible to see any object few rods
distant. Driving helplessly before the
wind, yet in the direction of its place of
destination, the schooner sped through
the dark ness. At last, near midnight,
running clio er than her crew supposed
to the Canadian Shore, she struck on
the outer bar off Long ioint Island,
beat heavily across it, and sunk in the
deeper water between it and the inner
bar. The hull was entirely submerged,
the waves rolling in heavily, and dash
ing over the rigging, to which the crew
betook themselves, Lashed there,
numb with cold, drench ed by the pitt
less waves, and scourged by the showers
of sleet driven before the wind, they
waited for morning. The slow, dread
full hours wore away, and at length the
dubious and doubtful gray of a morning
of tempest succeeded to the utter uar :
ness of night.
Abigail Becker CHANGED at that time
to be in her hut with none but her
young children. Her husband was alb
sent on the Canada shore, and she WIS
left the sole adult occupantof the Island,
save the light-keeper at it's lower end,
daylight on the beach in front of her
door, she saw the shattered boat of the
Conductor, cast up by the waves. Her
experience of storm and disaster on that
dangerous coast, needed nothing more
to convince her that somewhere in her
neighborhOOd human life had been, or
still was, in peril. She followed the
southwesterly trend Of the island for lit
tie distance, and peering through the
gloom of the stormy morning, discern
ed the spars of the sunken schooner,
with what seemed to be human forms
clinging to the rigging. The heart of
the strong woman sunk within her, as
she gazed upon those helpless fellow
creatures, so near, yet so unapprOacha-
bic. She had no boat and none could
have lived on that wild water, After
moments reflection she went back to
her dwelling, put the smaller children
in charge of the eldest. took with heran
iron kettle, tin teapot, and matches, and
returned to the beach, at the nearest
the logs and drift-wood always album
dant on the coast, kindled a great fire
and constantly walking back and forth
between it and the water, strOve to init
mate to the sufferers that they were at
least not beyond human sympathy. AS
the wrecked sailors looked shOreward,
and saw, through the thick haze of snow
and sleet, the red light of the fire, al d
the tall figure of the woman passing to
and fro before it, faint hope took the
place of the utter despair, which had
prompted them to let go their hold, and
drop into the seething waters, that open
ed and closed about them like the jaws
of death. But the day wore on, bring
ing no abatement of the storm that tore
the frail spars, and .clutched at
and tossed them as it passed, and drench-
ed them with ice-cold spray "a pitiless,
unrelenting horror of sight, sound, and
touch! At Ilast the deepening gloom
told them that night was approaching,
and night under such circumstances
was death.
All day long Abigail Becker had fed
her fire, and sought to induce the sail
Ors by signals-fOr even her strong voice
could not reach them-thrOw themselves
into the surf, and trust to Providence
and her for succOr. In anticipation of
this, she had her kettle boiling over tho
drift-wOOd, and her tea ready made for
restoring warmth and life to the half
frozen survivors. But either they did
not understand her, or the chance of
rescue seemed too small to induce them
to abandon the temporary safety of the
wreck. They clung to it with the des-
perate instinct Of life brought face to
face with death. Just at nightfall, there
was a slight break in the west red
light glared across the thick air, as if
for an instant the eye of the storm
looked out upon the ruin it had wrought
and closed again under lids of cloud.
Taking advantage of this, the solitary
watcher ashore made one more effort.
She waded out into the water, every
drop of which, as it struck the beach,
became particle of ice, aud stretching
out and drawing in her arms, invited,
by ner gestures, the sailors to throw
themselves into the waves and strive to
reach her.
Cantain HaclSett understood her. He
called to his mate in the rigging Of the
other most:
at is the last chance. will try! III