The Helena independent. [volume] (Helena, Mont.) 1875-1943, 1893-04-09

IAo heeh Tue picture VlVlQly-u UlHktStlC,
gallant ship done to destfuction--a rich.
ruined seaman wandering on earth with a
broken henrt in u dishcno cd bosom. Not
only n gallant ship. but II lifelong prile
and the fullness of a hearts desire swept
recklessly into limbo. Here at last had his
love revealed itself.
"No. by God, she shall not perish!"
CHAPTER III.
With a rapid movement he gains the
fo'castle, md roars into it "Al! hands bout
ship! Quick now. for your very lives"'
There is no mistaking his tone. It is not
one Of driving tyranny, but of urReI I
agony, and it goes right home to every nj n.
Up they tumble in q ready crowd, many
in their shirts alone. They are oil sleepy.
but the business in hand will soon cure
them of this.
They stand by. The helm is put down
and quickly the Chrysolite veers found in
procsss of reoching the other tack. viii
she do it? No. She tremAles almost in
the teath of the wind, misses stays, and
falls off again on the old tack.
Anderson cannot understand it, old sailor
as he is; ruts the helm down once more;
once more sho misses.
"Back the mainyard! SILVER the fore
yardv'
Soon every stitch of canvas on the main
mast is swung about to face the breeza,
while that on the foremost is hauled in.
Although she be going at eight knots. that
should check her.
But it does not.
"Mizzen-topsail braces then!' Quick as
thought the lee braces are Stacked off and
those on the weather side made taut. Still
che is not checked. Strange, too, for the
breeze is stiff. Anderson feels she is in the
stream of a strong current.
There had been no need to say what was
the cause of danger. The heavy boom of
breakers rose above the tread of feet. the
clashinR of spnrs and the chorus of curses.
Meanwhile. Mr.. Grant has finished his
calculations below. He has found for n re-.
suit that the ship is among the Maldive
reefs. He ia certain there must be some
error in his work. and he sets himself to re.
wise his figures. But the breeze sweeps into
the cabin with a faint command from tho
UPPER ai.-'Back the main yard!'-and he
shrewdly Guesses that his calculations are
correct.
The captain is everywhere Mt once, urg.
ing and aiding. Hs sees the whole CANVAS
aback, and yet the Chrysolite drifts on. He
cannot bout his ship or back her.
The reef is quite within appreciable dis
lance now. The hands can do nothing
more. 80 they gaze at the dancing line OF
phosphot escent atoms and curse tremen-
dously-though these may be their last mo-
ments.
"All hands wear ship!" comes sharply
from Anderson.
g. on and your ORDERS" cried some
one. ITO the boats, to the boats!''
Although the C%h.ysolite carried five
boats. no loss than four of them were I'M
seaworthy. In those days the examination
of an outward-bound shin was slurred over,
with the natural consequence that the ma
observed. The only boat on board the
Chrysolite worth launching was tho life
boat. which stood bottom upw ards between
the main and mizzan masts. At the cry.
"To the boats!"' there is a rush for her.
But Anderson is first. He carried in his
hand n email axe. meant for clearing away
light wreckage. With a vigorous blow tie
life-boat is stove in. The men stop short,
daunted. He turns and faces them, look
ing like an angry Titan.
Nov then: you hell hounds, wear the
ship or sink" They see he means to be
master to tho end.
1t is too late even for imprecation. The
men literally spring to their work, with an
~alacrity begot of desperation. Every mo-
ment is of the utmost value. for the reef ia
very close and the horrible breakers are in
al! ears.
Capt. Anderson holds the wheel. He has
put the helm UT. and soon the great ship,
with swelling sails, breaks out Of the cur
rent. He feels the change on the instant;
the hands know it, too. But the danger is
not past. LenvinR the wheel to anothe-,
he runs quickly forward to lean over the
crowd on the fo'castle. the poor fellows
cheer him ringingly. The fine old seaman
doffs his cap and makes them a grand,
manly bow.
He glances at the reef and then mutte,s
quietly to himself. ''She will never clear it
and Goo forgive me!' Then, wheeling
round. he gives a command.
LET 90 both anchors! II ia Our only
chance"
My heart sinks at the order, but in as few
moments as possible the cables are smok-
ing through the hawse.pipes. The ancho q
tho stanchioIs or sh;ouds in anticipation
of the shock. 1t comes. The ship, racing
on. is brought up with n round turn of such
sudden force as to shake every nail in her
timbers. Aloft there ia crash after crash,
and the lighter spars come showering
on to the deck, bringing along with them
ragged remnants Of canvas. One
man is struck down. Tho hawsors
hum with strenuous vibration.
The timbsru at the bluff of the bow ornck
almost vertically until the ships nose Is
we'll nigh worn out. The tension ia too
board one is tougher. But were it never 80
tough it will not save the ship. for its
anchor Is bragg ng. Back she says, gath
cred into her doom by tho whitening
waters, until nc length. thus lifted along,
her keel rests athwart the bank. Here ahe
heels over onto her side to t,ke a long 70.
pose-the very type of a picturesque wreck.
About this time Mcssrs. Ruin a. Ruin
were more than usually Interested in The
shipping news and one morning they saw,
under the heading OF wrecks and Casual
ties" this:
"MINIooY, Maldive Islands. Tho fripnte
Chrysolite of London went ashore ~yester-
day night on the southern reefs and in now
n total wreck. All hands saved except John
Ande son. master. who was killed by a fall
ing spar"
The result Of the whole business had far
exceeded the owners expectation. IL Ind
been 40 neatly done. and tho rreatest com-
fort of all was that no one " ~ row lef.
who could toll tales. They did not exactly
thank God, in 30 many wotds, for ths
denth of their faithful servant. That was
very sad. AZ of course IL should he. Bnt
they thanked him in all humility for n
certain sum OF $4,000. which would bnyo
gone elsewhere but for-. II he, Ander-