The Savannah morning news. (Savannah, Ga.) 1900-current, 1901-09-15
who goes on lookout 2"

NHO goes Oh lOOkouLf
I am the man and 1 call out my
name.
Watch out for flashing white light
on the port bow. Relieve the wheel and
lookout. Thatll do the watch"
A man goes aft to the wheel. the
watch goes below, and I climb the
steps to the forecastle deck. where my
predecessor is waiting at the capstan.
Keep your eyes peeled for a flash
light ahead and to port. Pass the word
along" "a, ~ ,.Sa,@
"All right. Go below-but what do
they expect 1t is?"
Don't know. Some lighthouse;
we're on soundings."
He is gone 1 rub the sleep from my
eyes and scan the clear-cut horizon
ahead. There is no sign of light, and
/ pace up and down, and back and
forth from cathead to cathead, with
an occasional glance over the sea. 1t
is a beautiful night-the kind that
brings meditation and restrospection.
The full moon hangs in the southern
sky, and depending upon It to the hori-
ION is a darkening of the deep blue
which can only be likened to a shad-
ow, or a curtain of shade. From a
point a hundred yards from the ship
to the base of this curtain extends a
glittering, narrowing track of liquid
fire. There are a few stars shining
family in the flood of light; there is
wind, a soughing breath aloft, just
strong enough to belly the canvas;
overheard is a tinkling, Musical wash
of water, accentuated by a rhythmical
crash under the bow as the ship buries
her cutwater, and losing volume on
the way aft to revive in the swirling
cross currents of the wake. / can hear
the murmur of my watchmates' voices
amidships, and the regular humping
of the mates boot heels on the poop.
He is pacing up and down like my
self perhaps, from habit, perhaps to
waken himself; for we have all lost
much sleep lately.
But / am wide awake-the moonlight
and its memories have banished the
sleep-and l halt in my walk to lean
over the capstan, with no fear of the
drowsiness which usually attends the
first half hour of the watch on deck
at night. 1t was just such a night as
this when I once walked through
lane with a girl and stopped at the
gate of a fower-filled yard. And though
my eyes are mechanically fixed upon
the horizon ahead and to port, watch
ing for that flashing white light, my
mental vision is taken up with the
image of the girl. She is facing me, one
small hand resting on the gate, one
small foot peeping from beneath her
dress, the color gone from her cheek,
and the tears starting in her eyes. In
the strong moonlight l can see the
womanly pity and regret in her sweet
face, the twitching at the corners of
her mouth and the slow, troubled nod
ding of her head. She is saying, No
no, / am not for you. We are not
alike. You must go your way and
must go mine. We cannot even be
friends, for there Is no middle ground"
And that is why i am back before
the mast this night, hanging over the
capstan. watching for a flashing white
light and thinking of her. The rebel
lious heart in my breast chokes me, |
and the rebellious brain in my head |
throbs in pain while it tries to formu-
late the reason of II all-why /. who |
must love her through life, am debarr- |
ed on this account alone from her |
friendship, from her society-from |
even her acquaintance. i, who would |
give my all for smile-for a glance |
Of recognition, must not know her, |
err yet unborn is nearer to her than am |
/, and of the millions of human beings |
in the world she is farthest removed |
from me.
Because, for certain temperaments. |
there is no middle ground.
It is bitter speculation, and not all |
men have known it, In my own case
/ can only work out the problem to
this: / love because ] can appreciate |
I
twinkle of light shown on the dark |
line of horizon. l stand erect to make |
sure. and IL is gone. AS l watch ii |
sparkles again.
FLASHING white light on the port |
bow, sir" ! sing out, glad of the relief |
TO my bitterness of mind-gratified that |
] had been first to see it.
"All right"
/ watch the light 1t is not regular !
in its coming and going IL has a reful- |
gence uncommon in beacon lights; il |
leaps to a flare and sinks to a glow; il |
expands to a nebula and breaks up into |
fragments.
Keep her away for that light" I !
hear the mate call TO the man at the |
wheel; then, to the third mate: Rouse |
out all hands; send up a rocket or show
a torch. That's ship afire."
A ship afire. ! turn and look again.
There is no mistake-the mate is right.
! can clearly make out two slim spars
and a black funnel, sharply cut in the |
The blaze is aft and the
steamer is heading toward us, while
from our change OF course she takes a
position from two points on the port
bow to one directly ahead. AS though
the powers behind the wind had taken
direct cognizance Of the extremity the
breeze freshens with our change of
course and we rush down the wind with
breaking seas curling under our coun-
ter Yards are square as before, for
the change merely brings the wind
from slightly on one quarter to slight
ly on the other. Soon we can make
out the shape and position OF deck
houses and the indefinite shadow Of hull
beneath. over the sparkling flare and
behind by her motion stretches
~ smoke, and there is a black
iL.-.- .l.Ig and rise VI her sheer for