CAPTAIN BOWLING’S STORY.
“Were you ever shipwrecked, Captain Bowling?” asked Chester, rather
abruptly breaking the pause which followed the sponger’s story.
“Bless you, lad, I’ve seen more wrecks than you could count, I might
say.”
“Yes, but I mean, were you ever in one? Did you ever have an experience
like——”
“Like the one our friends here have just been through?”
Chester nodded. The others, guessing that he was trying to “draw out”
the lighthouse-keeper into a recital of bygone adventures, drew closer
around the table or sat in attitudes of quiet expectancy. Bill Wayne
handed over to the grateful spongers a pouch of tobacco, pipes and
matches, then filled his own pipe.
“Fire away, Cap’n,” he said, smiling. “You’re in for a third degree!”
Captain Bowling laughed. Evidently he was by no means averse to telling
stories of his earlier life as a sailor.
“I was shipwrecked, years ago, a blamed sight worse than you were
to-night,” he said, turning to one of the spongers.
“Yes, sir, twice as bad,” continued the captain. “Say, Lem, quit your
snoring!”
“Go on, don’t mind me!” was the reply.
“Well, boys,” the keeper began willingly, “I’ll tell you about one
wreck. When I was a young fellow, ’bout twenty, I belonged to an
old-fashioned brig, _Nancy_, commanded by one of the toughest nuts I
ever had the luck to know. His name was Lowes, and he was a regular
slave-driver,—but a good seaman, though. Give the devil his due, say I!
We were fishing and cruising around the Bahamas, under a lively breeze,
and one night—I never knew how it happened—we got blown ’way off our
course.
“As the night came on, the breeze increased to a reg’lar Atlantic gale,”
Bowling continued, puffing at his pipe. “Rain fell in sheets and
torrents, the thunder was loud enough to crack your ears, and flashes of
lightning nearly gave us all blind-staggers. Sometimes it all was bright
as daylight, then dark as a pocket, pitchy dark. Suddenly the lookout
gave a yell: ‘Breakers ahead!’
“‘Put the helm a-lee!’ shouted the watch.
“But before the order could be obeyed, we felt a shock that lifted her
bow clear out of water, it seemed, and we knew she’d struck a reef. My
stars! how the sea did swat poor _Nancy_, banging her down on those
rocks! I tell you, boys, there was a wild scramble for the boats!
“Old Lowes, he was shouting curses and orders, trying to keep up some
show of discipline. The for’ard mast fell over the side nearer the reef,
just as the bo’s’n and nine other hands got one boat launched.
“I happened to be in it. As soon as we got clear of the rocks we lay on
our oars, waiting to pick up any men that jumped overboard. We urged
them on, but they were all busy with the last two boats. They got one of
them launched, and then they pulled away toward a rock some little
distance from us. It was a big rock, kind of flat, but they never
reached it.
“We rowed out to that rock and then a loud crash told us the brig had
gone to pieces. We heard sounds like thunder, as the timbers and planks
were dashed upon the reef,—then a yell, a frantic shout.
“‘By God, we’re going back there, no matter what happens,’ said one of
our crowd. ‘We can’t let our mates drown like rats!’
“So we landed most of our load and rowed back, as quickly and carefully
as we could. We picked up eight of the crew, the first trip, and Cap’n
Lowes and two officers, on the second. It was dangerous work, but twenty
of us, in all, were saved, out of twenty-seven souls. When day dawned we
saw the sea covered with fragments of the wreck.
“We were about twelve miles from the nearest island; we hadn’t a bite of
food, and many of us had very little clothing on.
“We huddled on the rock, and all that day, the next night, and the next
day, we waited for some ship to pass by and discover us. None came. The
men nearly died from exhaustion, hunger, and thirst; some drank sea
water, lost their minds, and threw themselves off the rock; others got
unconscious and had to be tied down to the rock, in order not to be
washed away by the seas. We tied them with whatever rags of clothing we
could use for the purpose.
“Another night went by. In the morning, several of our number were
missing, and others lay dead on the rock. Lowes was among the missing;
he had gone raving mad. And finally, when we had lost all hope, I
sighted a schooner standing directly down for us. Imagine our joy!
“Well, boys, to make a long story short, a boat from the schooner picked
us up and we were taken aboard. They gave us water and food, a small
portion at a time. They gave us clothes, for most of us hadn’t a stitch
on our backs; and they treated us mighty white.
“No one who hasn’t been through such an experience can appreciate how
horrible it is,” concluded Bowling. “But you lads have been life-savers
to-night, and you must have had enough of adventures and hardships! How
about comfortable bunks and a sound sleep?”
As they rolled themselves warmly in blankets a little later and settled
down for a good night’s sleep, they appreciated that for the second time
that spring they had had the great privilege not only of seeing, but of
sharing the heroic work of life-saving crews.
As earnest Boy Scouts, these experiences meant to them a better
understanding of the motto, “Be Prepared,” and filled them with a
determination to acquire greater skill in all land and water
accomplishments.
The next day being calm and sunny, the _Arrow_ was hauled out and made
ready to continue the cruise to Key West. Arrived there, Roy Norton bade
his younger comrades a warm farewell and left them standing on the
foredeck, waving their caps and cheering for him as he departed on his
mission.