San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1886-06-26
This story was commenced June IG.l
THE
Master of the Mine.
BY ROBERT BUCHANAN.

The visions of the earth were gone and fed
He saw the giant sea above his head
Keats EndymiOu.
ming lasted well on TIL morning, ana when
they ceased, ii became possible for the inst
time to realize the frightful violence of the
gale. 1t was, as | afterward learned, well
defined cyclone.
With the first peep of daylight, seized my
hat and moved TO the door.
"Wllar best gawing. lad?" cried my aunt.
Down to the shore. It's a high spring.
tide, and | want to see if the life-boats
snug"
Ma, na," she cried, "stawpyarr'
But only smiled at her fears, and hasten
ed away. No sooner'had | left the cottage
than the wind caught me, and almost dashed
me from my feet; but | stopped nv head,
and plunged right on in the teeth of the gale
The day was now breaking, with lurid sullen
rays, behind my back. Short as the distance
was to the seashore, thought should never
reach it, so terrible was the fury of the blast
More than once had actually to lie down
on the ground, and let it trample over me!
And with the blast came hail and heavy rain
binding me, shifting my cheek like whip
cord, and drawing blood, so that could
scarcely see yard before my. face.
At last gained the cliff, and here had
much ado to prevent my self from being lifted
up bodily and blown away. But l threw
myself on my face and looked seaward.
Nothing was visible, only driving mists and
vapors; but right below there was blind
ing whitenesS of the line of breakers, and
thence there rose up TO me, together with the
wild wisps of solid wind-swept water, the
deafening thunder-rOar of the unanimously
surging sea.
Gaining courage, presently, as the light in
the east grew clearer, | Crawled down the
path leading to the shore. As | went, | was
sometimes tiattened like a rag against the
rocks. by the sheer force of the wind; but
perseveTed, and at last, with Gods help,
reached the bottom.
1t was high tide; the roaring pillows were
laundering up close to the cliff. and the shall
low creek surrounding the bOat-hOuse was as
white as milk with the churning of the wa
tiers. | then perceived to my CONSERVATION,
that the gale had struck the hOat-hOuse with
such force as to sweep the wooden roof away
and dash it into fragments against the cliffs.
l crept on to the door, which was on the lee
and sheltered side, drew forth from my pOck-
ct the key of the paddock, opened it, and
went in. The great boat lay there unharm-
ed, but was half full of water fresh from
the dark rain clouds, salt from the angry sea.
One of the oars had been lifted out and snap
ped like a rotten twig, but that was all.
Suddenly, as | stood here sheltering from
the gale, heard sound from seward, like
the sound Of gun. l started, listening In
minute the sound was repeated. Yes; it
was-a gun at sea, and the sound could have
only one signitcatiOn-a vessel in distressl
Quitting the bOat-hOuse, | stood on the
shore, and strained my eyes against the drift
ing vapOrS and the binding wind; but |
could distinguish nothing indeed, so great
was the rainy darkness, that my vision could
not penetrate beyond twenty or thirty yards
from the stOrm-swept shore. But il need
ed any fresh assurance that ship of some
sort was struggling with the elements not far
away, it came to me in another faint report
of gun, and finally, in the red light of a
rocket, which shot up through the black
vapors like shooting-star, ana Disappeared