CHAPTER XV.

STORM-BOUND.

Sidney made up a bed for himself in the kitchen, that he might be near at hand in case either of the invalids should need attention, and it was nearly three o'clock in the morning when Mr. Peters awakened him.

"Why didn't you call me sooner?" the lad asked in a whisper, when he saw what time it was. "You had no right to do more than your share of the work."

"Yes I had, Sonny. I'm tryin' to make up for my meanness, an' I'd be mighty glad if it was possible for me to get along without sleep till Cap'n Eph an' Uncle Zenas are in shape once more."

Sidney could make no further protest, understanding as he did all that was in the first a.s.sistant's mind, and crept softly up-stairs to the watch-room, while Mr. Peters lay down on the bed he had just vacated.

The lad, eager to show his willingness to perform a full share of the work, remained on watch even after sunrise, and was busily engaged cleaning the lens when Mr. Peters came into the lantern, having been awakened by Captain Eph.

"I want you to understand, Sonny, that this 'ere thing won't go down with me," he said sharply. "There's good reason why I ought'er do the biggest part of this work, an' no call for you to strain yourself."

"There's little chance of my doing anything of the kind," Sidney replied laughingly. "I thought it would be a good plan to let you get as much sleep as possible; but so long as you're awake, I'll go down and see what kind of a breakfast I can fix up. How are they feeling this morning?"

"Uncle Zenas has still got a power of pain, an' I don't reckon there's much show of his bein' any easier for quite a spell. Cap'n Eph's leg is surely a sight. It's swelled twice the reg'lar size; but he won't give in that it hurts him so very bad, though I know it must."

When Sidney entered the kitchen he found the old keeper sitting bolt upright in bed, gently rubbing his injured limb, and the lad suggested that he be allowed to aid him.

"There's no need, Sonny, not a little bit; I'm only doin' this because I've got nothin' else on hand. Why didn't you call Sammy on time?"

"Because he didn't waken me until nearly three o'clock, and I wanted him to have something near a night's rest, sir."

"Wa'al, don't slip up in that way agin, for I've got no notion of havin' you sick on our hands. After this, rout him out at sunrise, no matter what time he turned in. I reckon, Sonny, that you'll have to try your hand at cookin' agin."

"That's what I counted on, sir, and if Uncle Zenas can tell me what to do, I'll get along first rate."

The second a.s.sistant not only explained to Sidney how he should perform the necessary work; but, despite the pain with which he was suffering, watched his every movement until a really appetizing meal was on the table.

Then Sidney, after calling Mr. Peters, fed the two invalids as if they were babies, although Captain Eph protested against it, and when the first a.s.sistant came down-stairs, asked if he couldn't make something in the way of a short-legged table on which food might be placed while they sat up in bed to eat.

"I'll 'tend to that right off, sir," Mr. Peters replied, evidently pleased at the idea of having additional work to perform, and, after breakfast, while Sidney was putting the kitchen-hospital to rights, he set about the task.

The storm appeared to be increasing, and Captain Eph predicted that it would be a long one, giving his reasons for such an opinion, and adding:

"It'll suit me way down to the ground, for I'd be ashamed to have anybody land here while Uncle Zenas an' I are stretched out on the floor."

"Does it often happen that a landing can't be made for some time?"

Sidney asked, as, his work having been done, he sat by the side of the keeper.

"At this season of the year we count on bein' storm-bound a good part of the time, Sonny. Least-ways, the heavy seas shut us in, because the weather must be fairly good for a boat to make a landin' on this 'ere ledge; but we ain't any worse off as to that, than the keepers of a light not sich a dreadful ways from here."

"Meanin' Matinicus," Uncle Zenas said, as if he hoped by taking part in the conversation to forget some portion of his pain.

"Ay, that's the light, Sonny, an' by the charts in my room you can see where it stands. Now give me the book you was readin' last night, an'

I'll show you somethin' that tells how much of sufferin' is needed sometimes to keep the lights on our coast burnin'."

Captain Eph found the article on Matinicus Rock Light, and Sidney read aloud the entire chapter; but it is not well to set down here more than a few extracts:

"Matinicus Rock is twenty-five miles out in the ocean from the mainland, directly in the pathway of the ocean-steamers plying from Boston and Portland to Eastport, St. John, Yarmouth, and Halifax, and of the immense fleet of coasting and fishing vessels trading between the United States and the British Provinces. This barren and jagged rock, covering an area of thirty-nine acres at low tide, is inaccessible except during favorable weather....

"In the spring of 1853, Samuel Burgess obtained the position of light keeper; his family consisted of an invalid wife, four small daughters, and a son, who, though making his home on the rock, was absent much of the time fishing in Bay Chaleur and else-where. The eldest daughter, Abbie, fourteen years old, was the keeper's only a.s.sistant; she aided in caring for the light as well as attending to the princ.i.p.al household duties. In the occasional absence of her father, the whole care of the light devolved upon her....

"On the morning of January 19, 1856, Abbie being then seventeen years of age, the Atlantic was visited by one of those terrible gales to which it is subject. Her father was away."

It was Abbie herself who wrote the following concerning the storm:

"Early in the day, as the tide rose, the sea made a complete breach over the rock, washing every movable thing away, and of the old dwelling not one stone was left upon another. The new dwelling was flooded, and the windows had to be secured to prevent the violence of the spray from breaking them in. As the tide came, the sea rose higher and higher, till the only endurable places were the light-towers. If they stood we were saved, otherwise our fate was only too certain. But for some reason, I know not why, I had no misgivings, and went on with my work as usual.

For four weeks, owing to rough weather, no landing could be effected on this rock."

"In the spring of 1857, Mr. Burgess left the rock to obtain his salary and secure some provisions and fuel. The weather prevented his return, and the family ran short of food. Waiting until famine stared them in the face, the son started in a little skiff equipped with a sail, made by the aid of his sister, to obtain succor. Pushing from the rock in his frail craft, he was at first lost sight of in the trough of the sea; he reappeared on the top of the waves for a short distance, and was seen no more for twenty-one days, during which time the mother and the four girls were reduced to a cup of corn-meal and one egg each per day. Added to risk of perishing of famine in mid-ocean, was the torturing suspense as to the fate of father and son.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ISLE OF SHOALS.]

"During all this time Abbie attended to the light, cared for her sick mother, and, by her spirit and example, cheered the little family cl.u.s.tered together on this wave-beaten rock in the Atlantic.

Fortunately, father and son finally safely returned to their ocean home."

"I reckon, after thinkin' of all that, there ain't any one of this 'ere crew as feels like complainin', eh?" and Captain Eph looked around sternly, much as though believing his a.s.sistants were on the verge of insubordination. "If a seventeen-year-old girl, with the same as nothin' to eat, can take care of a whole family an' a light for twenty-one days durin' heavy weather, we deserve to be kicked if there's any show of gettin' down at the heel."

"We're mighty lucky to be no worse off," Uncle Zenas said as he unfastened the bandages in order to look at his injuries, and this reminded Captain Eph that it was time to apply more sc.r.a.ped potato.

When the forenoon came to an end both the invalids were cared for, and Sidney had the noon-day meal ready.

Mr. Peters had made what served as tables, but which were really rough stools, and from these Captain Eph and Uncle Zenas ate their dinner with very little of discomfort.

Because there was nothing he could do in behalf of the invalids, Mr.

Peters spent the greater portion of the afternoon in bed, and Sidney read to or talked with the keepers until it was time to get supper.

The record of this day would serve fairly well for the five succeeding days. The storm had cleared away after raging with mild violence forty-eight hours; but the wind seemed to have increased rather than subsided, and the waves were so boisterous that it would have been impossible, save at the cost of life, to descend from the kitchen to the ledge.

The keepers were storm-bound even though the sun was shining, and would be until the wind subsided. During all this time but few vessels were to be seen far down on the horizon, and never one near enough to be signaled.

Both the disabled keepers were recovering even more rapidly than could have been reasonably expected. Captain Eph's sprained leg no longer caused him very great pain; but he, as well as his companions, understood that very many days must elapse before he should venture to stand upon it.

Uncle Zenas was able to hobble around fairly well, and, with a certain amount of a.s.sistance from Sidney, attended to the greater portion of the cook's duties; but neither of the men had attempted to ascend the stairs.

Never for a moment had Mr. Peters faltered in his efforts to atone for his deceit. It was as if each day he tried the harder to perform more work, or minister to the comfort of his comrades, until Captain Eph said privately to Sidney that "Sammy's trip on the raft had worked a wonderful change."

On the morning of the sixth day after the combination of accidents, there was a break in the monotony, which excited the invalids greatly.

Mr. Peters, who had been in the lantern attending to some trifling duty, came down-stairs at a rapid pace as he cried:

"The light-house tender is headin' this way, not more'n two miles away, an' makin' heavy weather of it!"

In a twinkling the room was a scene of the greatest excitement. Captain Eph, forgetting his injured limb, attempted to spring to his feet, but sank back quickly with a groan, and Uncle Zenas, thinking only that the inspector might not be pleased at seeing beds in the kitchen, bent over to gather up the clothing, when the partially healed burns caused him to straighten up again as a cry of pain escaped his lips.