The record-union. [volume] (Sacramento, Calif.) 1891-1903, 1897-06-06

W dit VI Oll.
In the doghole of cabin, now waist
deep in water, the shivering boy held
grimly to his charge, wondering why
he kept so still and made no effort on his
own behalf; but at last his strength
failed; they rolled together on the floor,
and the water washed completely over
them at every roll. A ray of the moon
shone down the hatch, and the light
falling on the mates pale face, name
less horror seized the boy, and he hurried
upon deck and chung to the broken mast.
lows DAM" cried the skipper.
Dead" returned the boy. les killed
an drowned"
Go below or you'll be carried over
board" was all the skipper answered.
I'll stay ERE" replied the boy tremb-
lingly. Il daren't be alone wi i'm
Then fetch your oily an some clothes
out o. my locker, an put 'em on or
you'll be frozen stiff"
I'D rather stay 'ere, skipper an
freeze"
Go an get 'em'-the skipper spoke
firmly, but not unkindly-"you needn't
be afeard, I'm only yard or two away,
an Dan'll not 'urt you
The unwilling boy obeyed, going fear
fully below, and getting his own soaked
oily frock, and a thick coat and a heavy
jersey from the shippers private locker.
Put EN- on, jersey first, an lash your
self to the stump o. the mast, an we'll
both get safe into Yarmouth Roads,
Wen alPs said an done I've known
worse things nor this 'appen at sea-"
The boy again obeyed, and soon he
was fast to the broken miZzen, with the
jersey round him, the coat, reaching to
his ankles, buttoned up and the oilskin
all over. His feet and head were bare,
and the wind sang through the gar
ments ample folds, but the boy was
warm, for him. Being drowsy, he fell
asleep and the skipper kept his watch
alone.
All through that night the scarecrow
Vanguard ran before the gale, the skip
per at the struggling tiller and the boy
asleep, feeling not and needing not the
rolling and the pitching of the smack.
When day broke the skipper peered
ahead for sight of land. The air was
clear no longer; a thick mist hung about
him, and the near horizon showed him
nothing but the crestS of hurrylng
waves. At times he heard above the
noise of the wind and water the sirens
of steamers, hoarse and mournful, and
once he shot across the bows of a black
collier lunging north. It was an eS-
cape by hair; a moment later, and the
steamer would have cut him down, but
he went his way unmoved and the coll
Ter, with wild leapings, disappeared in
the clammy rolling mists.
So far as the skipper could tell, the
smack was getting near the Norfolk
coast With clear daylight, shattered
though he was, he would have feared
nothing for his strength remained
within his bones and Sinews, and he
held the mastery of the tiller still; but
in the growing heaviness that menaced
more than any storm, he could do moth
ing more than blindly hold his course
and keep the craft before the wind.
Sea after sea had swept her deck
and poured into her hold and cabin:
the hatchway had been shorn level with
the deck, the gear had been swept over
board, and the spare trawl-beam had
been dashed away, carrying with it
the port bulwarks. Only the hold
packed with empty fish-t trunks kept the
time she rolled the skipper waited for
her groaning sides to rend asunder
and at each long shuddering pitch he
expected that the ballast would burst
up through the decks But his resolu-
ton never faltered. In his rough, I'M
cultured imagination he likened HIM
self to one who fought against crush
ing odds, a pigmy warning with the
ted against the hungry waters of the
merciless North Sea. The fierce joy of
conquest filed him, while the lust of
life surged up within. But above all
there arose the wish to save the little
fellow who throughout the night had
slept in heavy stupor near him, at
times buried in the seas that came on
board. The skipper argued vaguely
that he had sinned, that expiation was
demanded of him, and that atonement
could be made, first by saving the boy
and next by giving up his worldly
goods to those who were widowed
through his stubbornness. This latter
he would do when he had steered the
Vanguard over the bar and had run
her into the safety of the sheltering
river.
The Vanguard gave a wild leap on
ward. There was heavy grinding
crash; her bows were crushed in, the
jib and foresail, which had held valiant
ly throughout the gale, fell Imply
down as the foremost broke and tum-
bled forward with its Tapping strips of
canvas.
The Vanguard was aground upon the
Crosby Sands, and the seas were
sweeping in procession over her The
skipper was dashed to the deck by the
impact, and for a moment he lay
stunned. When he recovered he saw
that the boy had been aroused by the
shock
The smack was steadier now, and be-
ing embedded in the sand forward. she
rose and fell mostly to the stern. A
high wave had carried her well on to
the bank, and the seas spent most of
their power before they reached her.
The run before the gale was ended.
and there was respite so long as the
strained timbers held together.
Undaunted still, the skipper set to
work to see if he could save his craft
and his companion. The water from
the hold and cabin was streaming from
lilc otlS deti u awning pldDkS IOr-
ward, and soon it was but waist-deep
below. The skipper descended the lad
der, CROPPED his way to his locker. and
drew forth an unopened and undam-
aged bottle of brandy He broke the
neck by knocking it against a beam.
and took a long draught of the raw
spirit. Then he went on deck. and
poured some down the boys throat. and
rubbed some on his hands and face.
Cheer up" he shouted; 'the fog,u