NAT'S BRAVE RESCUE
"Somebody must have fallen overboard from one of the barges," thought
Nat, for he could now easily determine that the cry came from the side
of the dock where the two big freight carriers were tied. "Why doesn't
some one there help him?"
But though he thus wondered, he did not hesitate over what to do. He
ran out on the pier, and seeing a gangplank leading to one barge, he
sprinted up it. The cries continued.
"I'm coming!" the boy shouted. "I'll help you! Where are you?"
"Down between the two barges! I can't get out!" cried a man's voice.
"Hurry! help!"
The voice ended in a gurgle.
"He's gone down under water!" exclaimed Nat. "Man overboard!" he
loudly cried, thinking some one on the dock or aboard the vessels
might hear him and come to help aid in rescuing the imperiled one. But
there came no answer. The pier seemed to be deserted.
Nat reached the deck of the first barge and rushed across it to the
farthermost rail. He tried to peer down into the black space between
the two freight boats, but he could see nothing.
"Where are you?" he called again.
"Here! Right here!" was the answer. "I fell down in between the two
barges. I got hold of a rope, but it slipped from me a moment ago, and
I went under. I managed to get hold of it again when I came up, but I
can't last much longer. Hurry and help me!"
"I will!" exclaimed Nat. "I'm coming down as soon as I can find a rope
to cling to. There isn't room to swim down there."
"No; that's right. I can hardly move. But I can't hold on much
longer."
"Don't give up!" yelled Nat. "I'll be right there. Queer there isn't
some of the crew here," he murmured to himself.
He glanced rapidly about him. There was a lantern burning high up on
the smokestack of one of the barges, which were of the latest type,
with big engines to turn the large propellers. It was the work of but
an instant for Nat to loosen the lantern rope from the cleat and lower
the light to the deck. Then cutting the rope, as the quickest method
of detaching it from the stack, he hurried with it to the space
between the two barges. He lowered the light, and by its gleam saw an
elderly man clinging to a rope that dangled from the side of the
barge the boy was on.
"That's good; show a light!" exclaimed the man. "Now you can see what
to do. But please hurry. My arms are nearly pulled from the sockets."
"I'll have to get a rope that will bear my weight," replied Nat. "Hold
on a moment more."
He fastened the lantern cord to the rail, so that the light would hang
down in the space between the two vessels. Then he got a long rope, a
simple enough matter aboard a vessel. Securing one end to a stanchion,
Nat threw the other end down between the barges. Then giving the cable
a yank, to see that it was secure, he went down it hand over hand.
"I'll have you out of here now in short order," he said to the
half-exhausted man. "Can you pull yourself up by the rope?"
"I'm afraid not. I'm too weak."
This was a problem Nat had not considered. He thought for a moment. He
was a bright lad, and his life about the docks had made him
resourceful in emergencies.
"I have it!" he exclaimed. "Hold on just a few seconds more."
Twining his legs about the cable to support himself, Nat with one hand
made a loop in the rope, using a knot that would not slip. Thus he
had a support for his feet.
Standing in the loop he quickly made another below it, for the rope
was plenty long enough.
"There!" he cried to the man. "Work your arms into that and then get
your head and shoulders through. Put it under your arm-pits, and that
will support you until I can haul you up."
"Good idea," murmured the man weakly. With one hand he grasped the
loop which Nat let down to him. He evidently was used to cables, for
he knew how to handle this one, and in a few seconds he had his head
and arms through the loop. This supported him so that he was out of
water up to his waist.
"I'll have you out in another minute," declared Nat as he scrambled up
the rope hand over hand, until he was once more on the deck of the
barge. Then he tried to pull the man up by hauling on the rope, but he
found the task too great for his strength.
"I'll have to get help," he said.
"No, no! Don't leave me!" begged the man. "Just lower me another rope,
and I can pull myself up."
Nat understood the plan. Quickly running to the other side of the
barge, he found a long cable. This he fastened as he had done the
first, and he let the length of it dangle between the two vessels so
that the man could reach it.
"Pull now!" called the man.
Hauling on the rope about the stranger's shoulders, while the latter
aided himself in the work of rescue by pulling on the second rope, the
rescued one was soon on the deck of the barge beside Nat. He was so
weak that he sank down in a heap as soon as he was over the rail.
"Are you hurt? Can I get you anything? Do you belong aboard this
barge?" asked the boy.
"No--no, my lad," said the man slowly. "I'll be all right in a few
minutes. I'm exhausted, that's all. My name is Weatherby----"
"What, John Weatherby, the pilot of the _Jessie Drew_?" asked Nat, who
knew a number of pilots by their names.
"That's who I am, my lad. You may think it queer that a pilot should
fall overboard, but I'll tell you how it happened. First, however, let
me thank you with all my heart for what you did for me. But for you I
would have been drowned."
"Oh, I guess not."
"Yes, I would. I couldn't have held on much longer, as I'm getting old
and I'm not as strong as I was."
"Some one else would have come to your aid."
"I don't know about that. There is no one aboard either of the barges.
I didn't know that, or I shouldn't have come here to-night. That
vessel over there has gone out of commission, and there is no one
aboard her. There's a watchman on the pier, but he didn't hear me
calling for help. You saved my life, and I'll not forget it."
"I am glad I was able to," responded Nat.
"What is your name?" asked the pilot. He seemed to be feeling better.
"I'm Nat Morton."
"Nat Morton! I've heard of you. Why, you're the boy who got the
rowboat out of the way of the vessel I was bringing in the other day,
aren't you?"
"I guess I am."
"Well, I've wanted to meet you to thank you for that. Then, before I
get a chance to do it, you do me another favor. I heard about you from
a friend of mine--a pilot. He said you were always about the docks."
"Yes, I spend a good deal of my time here. I get occasional jobs, and
I like the ships."
"So do I, my lad. The lakes are wonderful bodies of water."
"But hadn't you better go home?" suggested Nat. "You're wet, and,
though it's a warm night, you may take cold. It's going to rain," he
added, as a flash of lightning came.
"Yes, I will go home if you will help me."
"I will, gladly. Where do you live?"
"I board near here, as it's handy for my business. The _Jessie Drew_
is to sail day after to-morrow. I came down here to-night to see a
friend of mine, who is captain of one of these grain barges, the
second one over there. I didn't know that he and his crew, as well as
all those on this barge we're on, had gone ashore. I started to cross
from one barge to the other, and I fell down between them. I called
and called, but it seemed as if help would never come."
"I'm glad I happened to be passing," replied Nat. "Now, if you feel
able, we'll go ashore."
"Yes, I'm all right now. I'll go to my boarding place and get some dry
things. Do you work around here?"
"I help Mr. Miller--he's the man I live with--whenever I can. He's
working to-night, helping unload a vessel that was delayed by the
storm."
"Yes, it's blowing quite hard. I didn't notice it so much down between
those barges, but now I feel quite chilly. So you work on the pier,
eh?"
"Whenever I can get anything to do. But I'd like to get a job on a
steamer."
"You would, eh? What kind?"
"Well, I'd like to be a pilot, but I suppose I'd have to work my way
up. I'd be willing to start at almost anything, if I could get on a
vessel."
"You would, eh?" said the pilot, and then he seemed to be busily
thinking.
The two walked down the gangplank and off the pier, meeting no one,
for the wind, and an occasional dash of rain, made it unpleasant to be
out, and the watchman was probably snugly sitting in some sheltered
place.
"This is my boarding place," said Mr. Weatherby at length, as they
came to a small house on a street leading up from the lake front. "I
can't properly thank you now, but--I wish you'd come and see me
to-morrow, when you're not working," he added.
"I'll be glad to call and find out how you are."
"Oh, I'll be all right. Now, be sure to come, I--I may have some good
news for you." And with that the old pilot went into the house,
leaving a very much wondering youth on the sidewalk.