Page 10 of The Lighthouse


  CHAPTER TEN.

  THE RISING OF THE TIDE--A NARROW ESCAPE.

  The portion of the work that Mr Stevenson was now most anxious to getadvanced was the beacon.

  The necessity of having an erection of this kind was very obvious, for,in the event of anything happening to the boats, there would be norefuge for the men to fly to; and the tide would probably sweep them allaway before their danger could be known, or assistance sent from theattendant vessels. Every man felt that his personal safety might dependon the beacon during some period of the work. The energies of all,therefore, were turned to the preliminary arrangements for its erection.

  As the beacon would require to withstand the utmost fury of the elementsduring all seasons of the year, it was necessary that it should bepossessed of immense strength.

  In order to do this, six cuttings were made in the rock for thereception of the ends of the six great beams of the beacon. Each beamwas to be fixed to the solid rock by two strong and massive bats, orstanchions, of iron. These bats, for the fixing of the principal anddiagonal beams and bracing-chains, required fifty-four holes, eachmeasuring a foot and a half deep, and two inches wide. The operation ofboring such holes into the solid rock, was not an easy or a quick one,but by admirable arrangements on the part of the engineer, and steadyperseverance on the part of the men, they progressed faster than hadbeen anticipated.

  Three men were attached to each jumper, or boring chisel; one placedhimself in a sitting posture, to guide the instrument, and give it aturn at each blow of the hammer; he also sponged and cleaned out thehole, and supplied it occasionally with a little water, while the othertwo, with hammers of sixteen pounds weight, struck the jumperalternately, generally bringing the hammer with a swing round theshoulder, after the manner of blacksmith work.

  Ruby, we may remark in passing, occupied himself at this work as oftenas he could get away from his duties at the forge, being particularlyfond of it, as it enabled him to get rid of some of his superabundantenergy, and afforded him a suitable exercise for his gigantic strength.It also tended to relieve his feelings when he happened to think ofMinnie being so near, and he so utterly and hopelessly cut off from allcommunication with her.

  But to return to the bat-holes. The three men relieved each other inthe operations of wielding the hammers and guiding the jumpers, so thatthe work never flagged for a moment, and it was found that when thetools were of a very good temper, these holes could be sunk at the rateof one inch per minute, including stoppages. But the tools were notalways of good temper; and severely was poor Dove's temper tried by thefrequency of the scolds which he received from the men, some of whomwere clumsy enough, Dove said, to spoil the best tempered tool in theworld.

  But the most tedious part of the operation did not lie in the boring ofthese holes. In order that they should be of the required shape, twoholes had to be bored a few inches apart from each other, and the rockcut away from between them. It was this latter part of the work thattook up most time.

  Those of the men who were not employed about the beacon were working atthe foundation-pit.

  While the party were thus busily occupied on the Bell Rock, an eventoccurred which rendered the importance of the beacon, if possible, moreobvious than ever, and which well-nigh put an end to the career of allthose who were engaged on the rock at that time.

  The _Pharos_ floating light lay at a distance of above two miles fromthe Bell Rock; but one of the smaller vessels, the sloop _Smeaton_, laymuch closer to it, and some of the artificers were berthed aboard ofher, instead of the floating light.

  Some time after the landing of the two boats from the _Pharos_, the_Smeaton's_ boat put off and landed eight men on the rock; soon afterwhich the crew of the boat pushed off and returned to the _Smeaton_ toexamine her riding-ropes, and see that they were in good order, for thewind was beginning to increase, and the sea to rise.

  The boat had no sooner reached the vessel than the latter began todrift, carrying the boat along with her. Instantly those on boardendeavoured to hoist the mainsail of the _Smeaton_, with the view ofworking her up to the buoy from which she had parted; but it blew sohard, that by the time she was got round to make a tack towards therock, she had drifted at least three miles to leeward.

  The circumstance of the _Smeaton_ and her boat having drifted wasobserved first by Mr Stevenson, who prudently refrained from drawingattention to the fact, and walked slowly to the farther point of therock to watch her. He was quickly followed by the landing-master, whotouched him on the shoulder, and in perfect silence, but with a look ofintense anxiety, pointed to the vessel.

  "I see it, Wilson. God help us if she fails to make the rock within avery short time," said Mr Stevenson.

  "She will _never_ reach us in time," said Wilson, in a tone thatconvinced his companion he entertained no hope.

  "Perhaps she may," he said hurriedly; "she is a good sailer."

  "Good sailing," replied the other, "cannot avail against wind and tidetogether. No human power can bring that vessel to our aid until longafter the tide has covered the Bell Rock."

  Both remained silent for some time, watching with intense anxiety theineffectual efforts of the little vessel to beat up to windward.

  In a few minutes the engineer turned to his companion and said, "Theycannot save us, Wilson. The two boats that are left--can they hold usall?"

  The landing-master shook his head. "The two boats," said he, "will becompletely filled by their own crews. For ordinary rough weather theywould be quite full enough. In a sea like that," he said, pointing tothe angry waves that were being gradually lashed into foam by theincreasing wind, "they will be overloaded."

  "Come, I don't know that, Wilson; we may devise something," said MrStevenson, with a forced air of confidence, as he moved slowly towardsthe place where the men were still working, busy as bees and allunconscious of the perilous circumstances in which they were placed.

  As the engineer pondered the prospect of deliverance, his thoughts ledhim rather to despair than to hope. There were thirty-two persons inall upon the rock that day, with only two boats, which, even in goodweather, could not unitedly accommodate more than twenty-four sitters.But to row to the floating light with so much wind and in so heavy asea, a complement of eight men for each boat was as much as could withpropriety be attempted, so that about half of their number was thusunprovided for. Under these circumstances he felt that to despatch oneof the boats in expectation of either working the _Smeaton_ sooner up tothe rock, or in hopes of getting her boat brought to their assistancewould, besides being useless, at once alarm the workmen, each of whomwould probably insist upon taking to his own boat, and leaving the eightmen of the _Smeaton_ to their chance. A scuffle might ensue, and heknew well that when men are contending for life the results may be verydisastrous.

  For a considerable time the men remained in ignorance of the terribleconflict that was going on in their commander's breast. As they wroughtchiefly in sitting or kneeling postures, excavating the rock or boringwith jumpers, their attention was naturally diverted from everythingelse around them. The dense volumes of smoke, too, that rose from theforge fire, so enveloped them as to render distant objects dim oraltogether invisible.

  While this lasted,--while the numerous hammers were going and the anvilcontinued to sound, the situation of things did not appear so awful tothe only two who were aware of what had occurred. But ere long the tidebegan to rise upon those who were at work on the lower parts of thebeacon and lighthouse. From the run of the sea upon the rock, the forgefire was extinguished sooner than usual; the volumes of smoke clearedaway, and objects became visible in every direction.

  After having had about three hours' work, the men began pretty generallyto make towards their respective boats for their jackets and socks.

  Then it was that they made the discovery that one boat was absent.

  Only a few exclamations were uttered. A glance at the two boats and ahurried gaze to seaward were sufficient to
acquaint them with theirawful position. Not a word was spoken by anyone. All appeared to besilently calculating their numbers, and looking at each other withevident marks of perplexity depicted in their countenances. Thelanding-master, conceiving that blame might attach to him for havingallowed the boat to leave the rock, kept a little apart from the men.

  All eyes were turned, as if by instinct, to Mr Stevenson. The menseemed to feel that the issue lay with him.

  The engineer was standing on an elevated part of the rock named Smith'sLedge, gazing in deep anxiety at the distant _Smeaton_, in the hope thathe might observe some effort being made, at least, to pull the boat totheir rescue.

  Slowly but surely the tide rose, overwhelming the lower parts of therock; sending each successive wave nearer and nearer to the feet ofthose who were now crowded on the last ledge that could afford themstanding-room.

  The deep silence that prevailed was awful! It proved that each mind sawclearly the impossibility of anything being devised, and that a deadlystruggle for precedence was inevitable.

  Mr Stevenson had all along been rapidly turning over in his mindvarious schemes which might be put in practice for the general safety,provided the men could be kept under command. He accordingly turned toaddress them on the perilous nature of their circumstances; intending topropose that all hands should strip off their upper clothing when thehigher parts of the rock should be laid under water; that the seamenshould remove every unnecessary weight and encumbrance from the boats;that a specified number of men should go into each boat; and that theremainder should hang by the gunwales, while the boats were to be rowedgently towards the _Smeaton_, as the course to the floating light layrather to windward of the rock.

  But when he attempted to give utterance to his thoughts the wordsrefused to come. So powerful an effect had the awful nature of theirposition upon him, that his parched tongue could not articulate. Helearned, from terrible experience, that saliva is as necessary to speechas the tongue itself.

  Stooping hastily, he dipped his hand into a pool of salt water andmoistened his mouth. This produced immediate relief and he was about tospeak, when Ruby Brand, who had stood at his elbow all the time withcompressed lips and a stern frown on his brow, suddenly took off hiscap, and waving it above his head, shouted "A boat! a boat!" with allthe power of his lungs.

  All eyes were at once turned in the direction to which he pointed, andthere, sure enough, a large boat was seen through the haze, makingtowards the rock.

  Doubtless many a heart there swelled with gratitude to God, who had thusopportunely and most unexpectedly sent them relief at the eleventh hour;but the only sound that escaped them was a cheer, such as men seldomgive or hear save in cases of deliverance in times of dire extremity.

  The boat belonged to James Spink, the Bell Rock pilot, who chanced tohave come off express from Arbroath that day with letters.

  We have said that Spink came off _by chance_; but, when we consider allthe circumstances of the case, and the fact that boats seldom visitedthe Bell Rock at any time, and _never_ during bad weather, we areconstrained to feel that God does in His mercy interfere sometimes in apeculiar and special manner in human affairs, and that there wassomething more and higher than mere chance in the deliverance ofStevenson and his men upon this occasion.

  The pilot-boat, having taken on board as many as it could hold, set sailfor the floating light; the other boats then put off from the rock withthe rest of the men, but they did not reach the _Pharos_ until after along and weary pull of three hours, during which the waves broke overthe boats so frequently as to necessitate constant baling.

  When the floating light was at last reached, a new difficulty met them,for the vessel rolled so much, and the men were so exhausted, that itproved to be a work of no little toil and danger to get them all onboard.

  Long Forsyth, in particular, cost them all an infinite amount of labour,for he was so sick, poor fellow, that he could scarcely move. Indeed,he did at one time beg them earnestly to drop him into the sea and bedone with him altogether, a request with which they of course refused tocomply. However, he was got up somehow, and the whole of them werecomforted by a glass of rum and thereafter a cup of hot coffee.

  Ruby had the good fortune to obtain the additional comfort of a letterfrom Minnie, which, although it did not throw much light on theproceedings of Captain Ogilvy (for that sapient seaman's proceedingswere usually involved in a species of obscurity which light could notpenetrate), nevertheless assured him that something was being done inhis behalf, and that, if he only kept quiet for a time, all would bewell.

  The letter also assured him of the unalterable affection of the writer,an assurance which caused him to rejoice to such an extent that hebecame for a time perfectly regardless of all other sublunary things,and even came to look upon the Bell Rock as a species of paradise,watched over by the eye of an angel with golden hair, in which he couldindulge his pleasant dreams to the utmost.

  That he had to indulge those dreams in the midst of storm and rain andsmoke, surrounded by sea and seaweed, workmen and hammers, and forgesand picks, and jumpers and seals, while his strong muscles and endurancewere frequently tried to the uttermost, was a matter of no moment toRuby Brand.

  All experience goes to prove that great joy will utterly overbear theadverse influence of physical troubles, especially if those troubles arewithout, and do not touch the seats of life within. Minnie's love,expressed as it was in her own innocent, truthful, and straightforwardway, rendered his body, big though it was, almost incapable ofcontaining his soul. He pulled the oar, hammered the jumper, batteredthe anvil, tore at the bellows, and hewed the solid Bell Rock with avehemence that aroused the admiration of his comrades, and induced JamieDove to pronounce him to be the best fellow the world ever produced.