The morning times., 1897-03-07
A HOMELY HULK.
The True Story of Tiliman Bos-
well and "The john
son.
By GUY CHASE VAN ALsrYNE.

by GUY CHASE VAN ALSTYNE.
In the first place, this is a true story
AS my grandfather says when he tells
Che children on his knee a tale, at is
biDie truth, not a made-up.' The incl
dent here recorded occurred one black
October night in Is It's scene was the
old beach at South Haven, a little vii.
lage that stands midway between Holland
ana st. Joseph on the eastern shore of Lake
Micmgan. AS was said, it is true story.
and it all came about because the piers that
guide and escort the pretty Black River
from the wooded ravines out into the lake
slanted to the south instead of sticking
straight out from shore. They were set so
to keep the current down the lake from
washing the sand into the mouth of the
harpor and making more work for the puff
Ting and dsteaminggovernmcnt dredgers that
used to come intothe channel annually and
dig the harbor to a navlgable depth
And 1t all happened. too, because Till
man Boswell was a man who knew no
fear. Tillman Boswell was the engineer
OF the steam barge johnson of st. Joseph
All the boys knew him, or at least sal they
did, for they Thought to know him was to
know hero. He was one Of those tall,
athletic men, active and daring, and he
hadciear, grayeyes that made one love him,
but above all he possessed fine baritone
voice-in fact, he was just the man TO
touch boys heart-to be idoIiZed and
ideaiZed as a hero.
But the boat he ran was nothing half
So fine as himself she was a homely
old hulk to begin with; was not very
large, and oyermore, was not very sea
worthy During this particular autumn
she was engaged in the lumber traffic
between st. Joseph and Muskegon Well
does every lad OF the village remember
how she use6 to loom up from the north
on her way down the lake, her black.
ugly, and seemingly useless single spar
rolling against the clouds and sky. Size
used often to stop at South Haven n event
of very rough weather outside, and so the
young fellows at play about the piers got
pretty well acquainted with her rusty decks
and Old, brown, weather-beaten hull. But
they never lovedhe as they did the trimmer
and stauncher craft
But for the story On this autumn
night alluded to the wind was blowing
stiff. Is came from the northwest, and
sent the waves cotEbing over the north
piers in fashion calculated to inspire
the heart OF the most daring sailor with
an honest dread of ever having TO face
the seas outside. There was no moon
that night, and what little light from it
that was able to steal from behind the
Scuddins clouds WAS soon lost again as
the greater clouds gathered, and roll after
roll of the enmaSscd vapor, like "a big
black fog, hung overhead.
But the villagers were used to such
nights as these. The white flag, with
the square black center, had been flying
from the upper lighthouse station all
day, and all who saw it read that there
was n wild night coming. No one sup
posed that any vessel captain. no matter
how foohardy ordinarily, would put from
the cast shore Of Lake Michigan that night,
but there was one such.
1t was near midnight when the lonely
watch in the tower at the harbor life
saving station sighted a vessel from the
north. The wind had been rising all the
evening. and now the storm was furious.
But it was a sure conjecture that that
boat would try to make South Haven
harbor. The watchman's whistle sounded,
and the crew got out of bed and into
oilskin clothes and out onto the pier
wit h lifelines 10 help the distressed
boats crew should the attempt end in
failure. With those piers jutting to the
south, the harbor was a hard one to
make from the north with the weather
the best: with that wind and sea and in
that dark night it was indeed a dangerous
undertaking.
man"
But the boat, it wasth Johnson, came
on Now she moved steadily; now she fal-
tered. Her foresail was set; the useless
mast had been broughtinto use; the setting
of her sail steadied her. Part of her deck
load was washed away and shelistedb badly.
Her engines were throbbing like a massive