The Brandon news. (Brandon, Miss.) 1892-1961, 1906-12-13
= a POINT !
!. RIP PILOT.
81. BY GEORGE STORY HUDSON.
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IL DluS Ialr TO De a m1Qdlin' flSh
day, don't it, Cap'n Joel?" shouted
young William Mayhem, as their do
>ries ranged together in the nart0w
channel.
"Toler'ble..' Joel cleared his
throat nervously, with never an up-
ward glance at his neighbor. Their
courses diverged. Mayhem pulled
strongly round the point and down
the beach toward his fish net, while
Joel Bunker pointed his old craft
straight into the ofing toward the
rising sun.
Both were Point Rip pilots. They
lived among the scrub oaks just back
Of the line Of sand in the cove. Joel.
a veteran In the service, held a rec
ord OF many hard fought battle
with the binding storms of winter.
Mayhem had but recently secured a
license to bring deep draft vessels
into port.
Advancing age was Joel's handi-
cap. His worn out muscles twitched,
and vigil af1oat was no longer play.
Firm in his refusal to quit the call
ing, the old man plodded on and did
the best he could.
This morning Joel had planned
master stroke. The schooner Eva
May was bound in from Nova Scotia
with cargo of lumber. She was last
reported near the headlands.
The old man hoped to board the
vessel before local pilots could inter-
cept her, and SO prove to his comrade
that he was a bit more clever than
the smartest Of them all.
So with an occasional smile and
half suppressed chuckle he urged the
dory into the offing. Cold and for
bidding, the sea surged through the
gloom. Joel saw no vessel, and con-
tinued rowing till in the strengthen
Ing light the view up and down the
coast was unobstructed.
Then, to occupy the time while
waiting he followed the custom among
Point Rip pilots, and prepared to set
his trawl. =
Whoa, grill" he called to the
dory, that reared on the rushing
waves. He threw the buoy keg over
board and ran out the 800 feet or
more of warp to which at intervals
of fathom were knotted short, stout
lines, each armed with large, freshly
baited hooks.
The JOB finished, Joel made the
dory fast to the rear end of the warp
and settled down for rest. But the
veteran pilot did not relax watchful-
ness while the fish were biting.
'I'll show you a thing or two. my
son." he said. with emphatic nod, the
shaft being directed at Mayhem. now
far away inshore.
The sun had rolled up clear of the
ocean, it's rays gliding a bank of
leaden vapor that presaged fog and
Increasing wind.
She'll come boomin' for the Rip
with the weather thicker'n mud"
was JoePs muttured comment as he
scanned the horizon and noted the
unfavorable signs.
Suddenly the old man bent sharp
ly forward and half rose, a followed
palm shading his eyes. A faint, ashy
shape had sprung into view as by
magic and leaned against the cloud.
"She's coming! I make out her top
s'ls!" Joel cried.
He hurried feverishly to gather up
the trawl so as to be able to set sail
and head off the vessel. Foot by foot
the dripping gear responded to his
heave and haul. But Mayhem had
marked the vessel and was under
way. Joel was two miles nearer the
stranger, and Mayhem knew it meant
many minutes of hard sailing to force
a buoyant dory into the eye of
hard wind and jumping sea.
Cod that had swallowed Joel's bait
foundered and threshed over the rail
The old man did not even pause to
pluck off the fish, but cast them into
the already tangled trawl that lit
tered the craft in an ever growing
heap. ~
The schooner now swung full
against the wavering sky line, her
black sides and deckload cleaning
duly in the sunshine. Joel, his face
distorted with exertion, presently had
underrun the trawl. He clambered
with unsteady motion over the swarm
ing fish and stepped the mast. He
tried to set his pilots flag at the head
of the slender spar. A vicious pun
OF wind whipped the square Of bunt-
ing round and round the mast. where
It chung. tiny wad OF color.
Reaching on tiptoe to clear the sig
nal Joel stumbled. Breathlessly he
grabbed at frayed halyard end that
swung out toward him. He strove
to find q foothold on the gunwale.
Under his weight the dory shivered
and reeled till water poured in tor
rents over It's side.
Joel shot backward ten feet under
. breaking wave. "Bill! Bill May
hew!" he cried.
The mere wisp Of sound died to q
gurgle as the sea closed over his
head.
The old pilot threshed his way up
fnwnrd the ind3ctfnn< choa~~. - 49,