The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1896-07-03
THE SHIP BUCEPHALUS.


pulled far down over his weatherbeaten
face and passed out into the night.
As he opened the door u gust of wind
swept the knob from his grasp, dashed
the framework against the wall of the
chamber and eNtinguished the flicker
ing oil lamp thai made shift to render
visible the darkness OF the room.
Clarence Baxter hastily fastened the
door after the retreating figure, re-
lighted the lamp and sat down on the
sea chest which served as a chair and
bed. 4 strange place il was, this beach
comber's cabin. Timbers from every
ship that had come ashore on Coffin
beach these 50 years were woven into
its heterogeneous framework. Here
part of steamships deckhouse, there
4 stanchion from the sturdy hull of some
long g-forgotten merchantmen, yonder
the patched wainscoting of clipper
ships once gorgeous cabin-cheek-by
jowl these relics of departed pride
stood like monuments of the dead past
in some strange nautical cemetery.
Outside the gale ragged with increas-
ing fury. Low though ii sat between
the sand dunes, the solid walls of the
hovel trembled and rocked under the
impact OF the blast like ship in a
heavy SEA. Such "a spring storm had not
been seen Oh the coast for years-not
since the night (as veteran told after
ward) when the clipper ship Bucephalus
came ashore way back III the SOS. In
the angle over there the PROV of this
vessel fCi med "A sort OF con nerstone for
the strange structure. and the horse in
the fgurehead stared at BaNton with
the sightless eyes of AN emblem OF death.
Icwould have been puzzled to explain
why lac felt so strangely, left alone in
this coy cabin. BaNton was not a
superstitious man, nor one given To
sentimental vagaries or emotional weak
nesses, and yet, as the door swung to
after the officer, he felt for moment a
strange and unaccountable thrill-a
chilling OF the blood-a consciousness
of something outside of his sphere of
influence, superior to his power OF con-
troll, that was gradually but surely
working its viii around and about him.
the feeling was not one of fear. What,
indeed, was he to be afraid of? Surely
not of the storm, for he was cozily
housed. Not the thieves or marauders,
for he and the coast guardsmen were
the only human beings on that strip of
beach. OF what, then, was he fearful?
1t was all nonsense, he said-he was not
afraid at all
BaNton shiyered as he threw another
piece of driftwood on the fire and drew
closer to the green-blue blaze of the
copper-stained timber that cast fan
tastic, many-hued shadows on tie
rough walls. mo going back to the
mainland tonight" he thought, as the
picture of the storm-lashed bay rose
before his mind, and he silently Oh
Jurgated the secretary of the treasury
who had promulgated the order for
bidding the life-saving men to entertain
guests in their coy stations
The tea chest was filled with old
newspapers, the officer had said, with
which he might, perhaps, while away an
hour. He lifted the lid. Yes-so it
was-prints running back for many
years, tied up and labeled in a cramped
handwriting-thato of Calamity Dicks
probably, the fisherman who. until his
death last year, had occupied this cabin
since no man remembered when. Turn
ing them over, BaNton saw that the
packets contained clippings descrip-
tive of the wrecks on this same stretch
of sand, called Coffin nbeach-"Cemetery
oeachwould be better" Baxton thought,
as he surveyed the yellow bundles.
Bark Excelsior, June 1872" read one;
80 drowned, two saved" ship Andro-
mache, January, 1Si3, % drowned, none
saved" read another ship Harold, -
10 drowned, four saved; Clipper Van
guard, SO drowned, Is saved" and so OF
through pile of packages that reached
knee high as he laid them on the floor.
Near the bottom was a larger bundle
labeled Clipper Bueephalus, Marco.
1856, 122 drowned, four saved" Where
had he heard of that ship? ''Buceph-
aius-Bucephalus," he repeated, reflect
ively. to himself. "Oh, yes, the ship the
old figurehead came FROM" and he
began TO unite the dusty package.
But slowly il came back to him that
he ha heard the name before he came
to Coffin beach. "Where?" As he asked
the question a newspaper, bearing the
date 1856, lay spread before him. and
his eyes rested on the headlines: .'Clip-
per Ship Bucephalus. Liverpool to New
York, Ashore on Coffin Beach, April
90. The ill-fated vessel, which was
owned by HI. B. BaNton & Co., - Front
street, this city, missed its reckoning
and ran ashore on Coffin beach at
three O'Clock on the morning of Tues
day last and became total wreck
The ffe-saving crew at this place, onc
of the most dangerous points on tie
coast, is not on duty at this season of
the year. At ten o'clock on the follow
ing morning, before anything could bs
dope to rescue the crew and passen-
gers, the ship went to pieces in tine
terrific surf that was running. OF the
ships company, 50 steerage passengers.
six cabin passengers and "a of the crew
were drowned. The second mate, Mr..
Lalor, and three sailors came ashore
alive on pieces of wreckage-the sole
survivors of the disaster. The captain
w. b. wilkins, perished with his ship
Mr.. Lalor, who was seen by a corre-
spondent of this paper yesterday, states
that the vessels loss was due to the
fact that her owner had neglected to
provide proper chronometer, although
repeatedly warned of the peril run by
the lack of this essential instrument.
Mr.. Baxton is noted among metropol
itan merchants for his great wealth aud
extreme parsimony- 1t is said that the
matter will be laid before the authori-
ties, in order that the cause of the
wreck may be thoroughly sifted, and
the blame for this terrible sacrifice of
innocent lives placed where it belongs"
In pencil across the margin of the
clipping was scrawled in Calamity
Dicks cramped script: And 30 of 'em
wimin, and Lalor says the captain died
cussin' the owner as the seas swept
them pore folks often the deck into the
surf"