The Montgomery advertiser., 1907-10-25

buffeting Of the waves. and the constant luffing. as the violent bursts of wind almost f1attened her down on the water. took lot of way or her and she made bare fifty yards each time she crossed the creek from side to side. Half an hour of this contest with the wind and waves proved enough TOT Sir William Tankerlane and he once more collapsed In the violent throes of sickness. He refused to go down tn- 1 to the cabin. where he might have to l talk to John Shil and his illness would | give the lie to his assumption of a call I ing for which he was by no means suit led. He crawied to the foot of the mast
 and lay for'ard, with his arms round It,
 and the waves drenching him from head to foot, as they broke over the | bows.
 wonder whether he'm -njoyin' it?' said Playie with grin. "Mebbe hem wishin' himself back on the land" 1 q don't like the look oft myself" l Yardley replied. .Td give ten poun' to
 be round the Black Spit, and sailip.
 easy up the Darkwater, with wind and l tide behind us.
 were creepin' up. We ain't goin' back wards"
 1 .sAy, and twin be dark in less'n an
 hour. There's d beauty for you" 1 A big wave had curled over the bow 1 of the boat, hidden TRnkerlane from I sight In a cloud of foam, and swirled aft in a torrent that buried Piayie's l boots to the ankles. When it had pass l ed, Tankerlane was huddled little closer to the mast.
 "Tain't safe for him there" said 1 Yardley. You go for'ard and get htm below. Then we'll have the hatches on. Faint good 'nuff havin' these folk on
 deck"
 Piayle made his way for'ard to Tank 1 erIane, who. in spite of his oflskins. | was as wet as though he had fallen in | to the sea.
 you get beiow,p he shouted. "Tain't | no place for you. sir; you'll get swept l overheard, and God knows who'll go | arter you in this sea. You come along | now"
 I Tank erlane did not move, but clung to the mast, as drowning man ciings | to a spar. Piayie stopped dewn and l wrenched his hands apart by sheer l force Then he lifted him up In his arms and dragged him along the deck. "You get down there, sir" he said, 1 as he reached the hatchway. rou'll l pardon my rough ways, but we cant have you overheard"
 Tankerlane, limp and almost iifeiess l was lowered into the cabin. Piayle fol- Flowed him, and picking him up from 1 the floor, laid him on the bunk opposite to John Shil Then the sailor found the l whisky bottle, and. pouring out half 1 tumbler of raw spirit, forced 1t down l Tankerlane's throat.
 l ."Twill keep the cold out" he said and at once proceeded to fortify him 1 self in the same manner.
 1 For three hours Yardley remained at 1 the tiller, and then at last the tiny l flash of the Black Spit gas buoy show ed through the curtain of spray. Yet the last half-hour was destined | to try the helmsman's nerve and skill 1 to the utmost. On no place along the 1 east coast of Essex does the tide pour l with such fury as on the extreme edge ] of the Black Deep Sands. Even in fair weather the water runs against them 1 like a mill race, and in south-easter- 1 ly gale the sea is a veritable maelstrots of cross currents and short steep waves. l So terrible is tho force of the water at this point that the buoy Is placed quarter of mile from the edge of the sands, so as to leave wide margin Tor strangers, who might easily miscalcu- late the strength of the tide. A quarter of mile of deep water lay inside the tiny twinkling light, but even that was none too much, and never year pass ed without dozen wrecks. and heavy toll of human lives.
 '"Tis helI,'' shouted Yardley. Three
 times she's missed stays in last hour.
 
 aYou go on." yelled PlayIe. '"tain't more'n half mile. You femme have the tiller. I've had nun of this"
 ''when we're--round--buoy," Yari- ley spluttered as a shower of water ortve into his mouth and eyes. He WIS determined to stick to his post till the smack had weathered the buoy. A clear head was wanted to steer the boat against that wind and tide. Where every inch had to be fought for. the course had to be sailed by brain work as we'll as by physical strength A sail too full or not full enough meant all the difference between success or failure. Yardley had long ceased toluff the boat, as she needed to the blast. He kept her at it, with her lee rail never out of the sea- But he dared not trust the work to Joe Playle, who was al- ready half drunk and who had more than once bungled the mechanical work that he had to do, when the boat was put round at the edges of the channel.
 "Lemme have tiller," repeated Playle, crawling on his hands and knees across the deck. YardleyS lifted his foot, as though to kick the man in the face. The heavy leather boot, shod with iron nails, was nasty weapon, and Playle stopped.
 You get back" shouted Yardiey; you'll have your turn later on. But you don't touch this tiller till we're round the buoy"
 Playle broke into a torrent of foul oaths, until flood of foaming water checked the words, and carried him along the deck to Yardley's feet.
 You'd best get below" said Yard- ley; ''I'n cast off this safety tackle and handle the jib sheets myself. You'll be overheard afore you know where you are"
 Playle. clinging to the rope at Yard ley's waist with one hand, raised him. self from the deck, and gripped his comrade by the arm.
 i've mind to make 'ee leave the til- Ter" he muttered hoarsely. "Tis my turn, and there ain't a better man than I in Gor'ven."
 Look here, Joe." said Yardley Quiet- ly, If you want this tiller, you'll have to chuck me overheard"
 Eve a mind to. I've a good mind to-"
 "Then you may as well chuck your self as well, for the Hope and Glory will be matchwood in ten minutes"
 "Pn wait" growled Playle. T ain't one to hurt a pal. Get round your buoy, and then I'll take Zee up the Darkwater in fine style"
 Stand by" yelled Yardley. as he put the boat round, into an inferno of white foam.
 Playle sprang to the sheets, and did his work.
 wen do it this time. Joe" said - - |