The Light Keepers: A Story of the United States Light-house Service. Otis James

an' not do so much talkin'?" the angry keeper cried, pushing on the shoulders of the big cook until Uncle Zenas had literally scraped his way through, and then the door was closed so violently that several particles of dust arose, causing Captain Eph to mutter:

      "It does seem as if the crew of this 'ere light had gone out of their heads this morning. What with smoke an' dust here in the lantern, I reckon we're smashin' the rules an' regerlations all to flinders. What do you make out, Sammy? What do you make out?"

      "It's one of them motor boats, Cap'n Eph, an' she's no fisherman, that much I'll go bail."

      "Well, get to work cleaning' up, an' let me find out what she is. It seems as if a full grown man with a pair of good glasses ought'er know all about her by this time."

      "How do you expect me to wrastle with the rules an' regerlations, when for all we know that 'ere boat may be comin' in with a load of shipwrecked men?" Mr. Peters cried petulantly, as he gave the glasses into the keeper's hand, and then stood gazing over the water as if believing it was possible to see more plainly with the naked eye.

      "It don't stand to reason that 'ere craft has got shipwrecked men aboard, else we would see 'em, Sammy, an' I'm certain she's light, but for a man in the stern-sheets. Here comes the fog agin, and whoever's steerin' stands a mighty slim chance of strikin' Carys' Ledge, if it so be he wants to make this 'ere bit of rock. I do hate to get so mixed up before breakfast! Why couldn't the idjut have waited until long towards noon, when we hadn't much of anything to do, before he hove in sight?"

      "He'll heave out of sight mighty soon, for this 'ere smother is comin' back faster than it went," Mr. Peters said half to himself, "an' I reckon we know now all we ever shall about him."

      "It must be he's makin' for the ledge, an' it stands to reason we ought'er lend him a hand. There, that's the last we'll see of the craft unless some mighty fine steerin' is done, an' since it's no use lookin' out in the fog, Sammy, you'd better get to work on the lamp, while I go down in case he's got brains enough to hold his course. Remember, that 'cordin' to the rules an' regerlations, the work of gettin' things ship-shape must be begun immediately the light is put out, and we've loafed too long already."

      "I reckon it wouldn't hurt very much if we broke the regerlations a little bit, when perhaps there are lives to be saved," Mr. Peters muttered as the keeper, raising the trap-door carefully, descended the narrow, winding staircase, but the first assistant made no attempt to follow his superior officer, because of knowing full well, from past experience, that any such disobedience of orders would be followed by a reprimand not pleasant to receive.

      Descending the first flight, the keeper came to the watch room, where was a table, a chair, a stove, and a small lamp for the comfort and convenience of those who were on duty during the night to make certain the lamp in the lantern (meaning the floor above), burned steadily; and here also was a square, upright piece of mechanism known as the driving clock, which operated the flashing light.

      Down another flight, and the keeper was in a third circular room, where were two beds. Another flight brought him to his own apartment, and below that the kitchen, over which Uncle Zenas presided as cook and second assistant light keeper, where everything was wondrously neat and clean, and where every inch of space was economized for the better keeping of the food, cooking utensils, and such articles as are ordinarily found in similar apartments on shore.

      "Are the fish-cakes spiled?" Captain Eph asked as he opened the door leading outside the tower to a ladder of iron, which was fastened directly to the masonry of the building.

      "Gone to a cinder," the cook replied in a tone of sorrow, "an' I allow they was the best I ever put together. What about the boat?"

      "That's what I can't tell, Uncle Zenas. This 'ere fog has shut in worse than ever, an' the chances are we'll never see her agin."

      "How did she happen to be out there? Some fisherman, eh?"

      "No; me an' Sammy are both agreed that it's a motor boat, an' she looked to me like such a craft as would be carried by some big sailing vessel."

      "But what is she doin' out there?"

      "Now, look here, Uncle Zenas, I don't know anything more about her than you do. How can you expect I'm goin' to answer such a fool question as that? All I can say is that, 'cordin' to the last sight I had of her, it looked as if she was headin' for this 'ere ledge, an' all the rest is a puzzle."

      "Where are you goin' now?" the cook asked as he set about preparing more fish-cakes.

      "Down to the rocks. It's just possible I may be able to give the course to whosoever is coming, an' Heaven knows he'll need it."

      Then, as if to put an end to the conversation, Captain Eph closed the door emphatically behind him, and descended the long, slender ladder which led to the ledge below.

      Not an inviting looking place in which to spend the greater portion of one's life was Carys' Ledge; nothing but a mass of black, jagged rocks rising out of the ocean a dozen miles or more from the mainland, and in extent at low water, half a mile long, and considerably less than that distance in width.

      Save for two rows of timbers securely bolted to the rocks, and extending from the base of the tower to the water's edge to form "ways," on which a boat could be drawn up or launched, and a small hut not unlike the dwelling of an Esquimau, made of cement, and large enough to shelter a dory, there was nothing to be seen on the ledge of jagged rocks, over which one could make his way only with considerable difficulty.

      Captain Eph descended to the water's edge by following the timbers of the boat-ways, taking due care as to where he stepped, for the footing was far from secure anywhere save on the extreme top of the ledge, and, making a trumpet with his hands, he shouted again and again, pausing now and then in a listening attitude.

      "It don't stand to reason he could hold his course long enough to hit this 'ere ledge; but I reckon it's my duty as a Christian man an' a light keeper to do what I can toward lendin' a hand. If he don't come ashore here, the chances are mightily agin his strikin' land while the breath is left in his body, for this 'ere smother is enough to mix up anybody except an old shellback like me. Hello-o-o-o! Hello-o-o-o!"

      Captain Eph actually started in surprise at hearing his hail answered, and it seemed to him as if it was a child's voice which had come from out the fog.

      "I must be losin' my mind, to even imagine sich a thing!" he exclaimed petulantly, dashing the moisture from his eyes as if by so doing it might be possible to penetrate the dense veil of vapor which shut out from view even the tower of the light. "It's a crazy trick for a grown man to be whifflin' 'round here in this smother, without my thinkin' I heard a boy. Hello-o-o-o!"

      "Hello!" came out from the fog, and the old keeper really looked around him in fear; but an instant later he had gathered his senses sufficiently to cry:

      "Uncle Zenas! Uncle Zenas!"

      The outer door of the tower must have been opened at the first word, for the light keeper heard his cook and second assistant ask petulantly:

      "Now what's creepin' over you, Ephraim Downs? Do you allow that we can afford to lose another mess of fish-balls this mornin', or have you knocked off eatin' altogether?"

      "Come down here, Uncle Zenas, an' bring the fish-balls with you, if you can't come without 'em. I've got the boat in hail, an' it's a child who answers me. We'll be needin' all hands, if he is to be brought ashore alive. Sing out for Sammy!"

      Then Captain Eph cried out once more for the guidance of the stranger, and the reply was sufficient to convince him, if he had not already decided the matter in his mind, that the helmsman of the boat was very young.

      "Are you on an island?"

      "Wa'al, I wouldn't like to call it jest that," Captain Eph shouted, "unless you're willin' to say a pile of rocks makes an island. This 'ere is Carys' Ledge light. Now do you know where you are?"

      "No better than I did before. Am I headin' right?"

      "It sounds so; but this 'ere channel is mighty narrow, an' unless you come in jest so, the chances are that your boat will be knocked to pieces. Is she a motor craft?"

      "Yes, sir."

      "Then