THE GRAVEYARD OF THE DEEP
Following on the information given by the captain of the Norwegian
steamer, which had so nearly been looted by wreckers, the _Miami_
started on a search for the decoy light that had led that steamer to her
fate. The captain was an able navigator, and, until the moment he had
seen the false light and been led astray by it, he had been absolutely
upon his right course. Under such circumstances it was not difficult to
find the latitude and longitude where the captain reported having first
seen the light. He had also given the bearing in the log, so the _Miami_
crept slowly forward in the direction indicated, heaving the lead
constantly for treacherous shoals.
From where the captain of the steamer had cited his position there was
not a single sign of a lighthouse or a light. But, as the _Miami_ crept
on, far out of the regular ship's channel, as suddenly as though it had
been just placed there, rose a spar, held in place with three wire
stays. On the top was a little round platform, not more than a foot
across, and spikes had been driven into the mast to act as a ladder by
which to climb it. The _Miami_ was almost on the tiny outcrop of rock
before the mast was visible. It was painted a watery blue, which merged
in with the color of both sea and sky, and was exceedingly difficult to
see.
A boat's crew was sent ashore to demolish the mast and also to make a
search for the light. To Eric, who went ashore with the men, it was
quite an exciting hunt, "almost like looking for Captain Kidd's
treasure," as he said afterwards to his chum, the young lieutenant of
engineers. The quest was in vain, for though every inch of the islet was
searched, there was no sign that the ground had been disturbed. So far
as that went, there was very little ground to disturb, for the islet was
little more than a coral rock, nearly covered at high tide. It was
evident that the wreckers, when they were ready for their work, brought
the light with them.
As the light for which the decoy was intended to be a substitute was
quite a powerful light, with a regular occulting flash, the decoy itself
must be powerful, and the _Miami_ was anxious to trace it. If the
native wreckers had such a lantern in their possession, probably they
had some kind of clockwork and could alter the occultation of their
decoy so that it would duplicate any one of several different lights on
the coast.
It was not until some time afterwards that the Lighthouse Service
learned that there actually had been such a light in the hands of the
wreckers at one time. In a quarrel among themselves, however, over the
division of the spoils of a small schooner which had run ashore, one of
the disgruntled wreckers had thrown the lantern overboard in deep water.
"I hadn't supposed there was anything of that sort going on now, sir,"
said Eric to one of the junior lieutenants, discussing the question of
the wreckers' lights.
"Nor had I," was the rejoinder. "The business of being a wrecker has
changed a good deal. There's plenty of it, still, but it has become a
recognized profession. A wrecker, now, has offices in a big seaport,
with a fleet of ocean-going tugs and a big bank-roll. When a ship is
reported ashore, either her owners pay him to float her, or he buys the
wreck outright and takes his chances of being able to recover the
purchase price. If luck is with him, he may get a good ship and cargo
cheap, but if fortune frowns and a storm breaks her up before he can
save the cargo, then he suffers a heavy loss. It's a good business, but
a big gamble."
"I should think there was a lot of excitement in that business, yet!"
"Yes, there is. But it is organized now and wonderfully handled
commercially. It's only in places like these outlying fringes of the
Bahamas, that the native wrecker--the one who lives by robbery and
loot--can still be found. In the old days, a decoy light was a regular
thing. There were organizations that had offices in the cities, who used
to make a business of this wrecking. Barnegat, New Jersey, was a famous
point in the first part of last century. All the inhabitants were in
league with the wreckers, there. Many and many a good vessel, in the
early days of American shipping, was lured directly on to the
treacherous beach, while the wreckers looted everything they could get,
and plundered the passengers and crew. That's all done away with now.
The United States coast is too thoroughly patrolled by the Coast Guard
for any such business as that to flourish.
"I think the Wolf Rock story is perhaps the best example of the idea of
deliberately wrecking vessels. You've heard of Wolf Rock?"
"Yes, sir," said the boy, "it's in the English Channel, off the coast of
Devonshire."
"Did you ever hear why that particular rock was called Wolf Rock?"
"No, sir," answered Eric, "I don't think I ever did. Is it because of
the shape of it, or because the sea breaking over it is like the fangs
of a wolf or something like that? There generally isn't an awful lot of
reason for the names of rocks and reefs."
"There is for this one," said his friend. "It isn't because it looks
like a wolf, but because it howls like a wolf."
"You mean the fog-horn does?"
"No, I mean the rock does, or did," was the reply.
"How?"
"You've heard of blow-holes?"
"Yes, sir," said Eric, "there's one at the Farallones Islands. You mean
those holes that make a noise when the tide comes in and out?"
"That's the idea. The Wolf Rock was a most famous case of that. It had a
large cavern inside and a very small hole through the rock at the
ceiling of the cavern. Then there was a cleft or fissure through the
rock right down to this little hole. You can see for yourself that when
the tide started to come in, it closed the sea entrance to the cavern,
imprisoning a lot of air. Then, as the tide rose steadily, the pressure
of the water drove the air out of the cavern through this little hole,
continually making an intermittent blowing sound. The great cleft in the
rock acted like the horn of an immense megaphone. This gave rise to a
roar, high-pitched--owing to the smallness of the hole--like a wolf's
howl. Night and day, but more especially when the tide was coming in,
the howl of the Wolf Rock sounded over the sea to warn mariners of the
perilous crag."
"Handy," remarked Eric; "it would save the Lighthouse Service a good bit
of money if every rock could be fixed like that."
"It didn't do the English Lighthouse Service much good," said his
friend. "What do you suppose the good people of Devonshire did? They set
to work and hunted for weeks to try to find the hole, but it was so
small that they failed. At last, having made up their minds that the
Wolf Rock should cease to give its warning, they combined together and
carted boulders from the beach to the top of the rock, with incredible
labor, and after a month's hard work filled up the entire lower part of
the chasm and then shoveled small stones on top."
"And thus silenced the wolf's howl?"
"Very nearly. If you stand on Wolf Rock now, you can still hear a low
moaning sound as the tide comes in, but it's very faint. So far as a
warning is concerned, the wolf is chained forever."
"And did the people profit by it, sir?"
"Within three months from the time of the silencing of the wolf, over
thirty vessels crashed to pieces on the rocks around, and the people of
the villages were made rich by the wreckage of the cargoes that came
floating in, or by the plunder they took from the vessels which held
together after the storm had passed."
"And those who were drowned?"
"They were drowned, that was all," the other said. "Of course if any
survivors were washed ashore, the coast folk treated them very kindly."
"I don't suppose," Eric remarked, "that they ever told these survivors
that they had done their best to make them the victims of the hungry
sea?"
"Hardly! You've got to remember that people often have queer local ways.
There are superstitions you can't defend on any ground. You know, at one
time, it was considered bad luck to try to save any one who had been
partly drowned. There are plenty of people, even nowadays, who won't cut
down a would-be suicide who has hanged himself because they think it's
bad luck.
"So far as the sea and sailors are concerned, I believe there's more
humanity than on land. It's very rarely that you ever hear of a vessel
that has refused to go to another's assistance. I think, too, the whole
work of the Coast Guard is a standing example of the modern idea that
nothing is more important than the saving of life."
"It often takes some big disaster to start it, though," said Eric.
"After all, this Ice Patrol that the _Miami_ is going on next month, was
only begun as a result of the sinking of the _Titanic_, wasn't it?"
"That's all. But wasn't that reason enough?"
"It surely was," agreed the boy.
"I think the summer ice patrol is a mighty useful thing. If the _Seneca_
keeps the lane of ocean travel free of derelicts and we cover the Ice
Patrol of that same steamship lane, it ought to make a difference in
the safety of ships at sea. Ever see a big iceberg, Mr. Swift?"
"Heaps of them, sir," answered the lad. "I was on the Bering Sea patrol
last year."
"That's right. But you'll find the Atlantic bergs are different. There's
a lot of ice in the North Pacific but it's mostly in small pans. No big
stuff comes through Bering Strait. It would strand. And then the
Aleutian and Kuril Islands make a sort of breakwater to head off big
bergs. But in the North Atlantic there's nothing to keep the big
Greenland glacier breaks from floating south right into the very path of
the steamers. In fact that's what they do. You'll see some real ones
this summer."
As the lieutenant had pointed out to him, the whole ice question assumed
great importance, viewed in the light of the Atlantic Ice Patrol. The
_Miami_, on orders from the department, steamed north and relieved the
_Seneca_ on duty. She picked up the bergs which the _Seneca_ had found
and plotted their positions on the chart. Every day at eight bells of
the middle watch (4 A.M.) the wireless operator on the _Miami_ sent to
the Hydrographic office a statement as to the exact position of all
bergs that had been sighted and the amount of their probable daily
drift. This information was sent out again as a daily ice warning to
merchant vessels by the Hydrographic Bureau.
[Illustration: ICEBERG WITH _MIAMI_ IN THE BACKGROUND.
Courtesy of U.S. Coast Guard.]
[Illustration: THE GHOSTLY ALLY OF DISASTER.
Berg in the lane of Atlantic travel, continuously watched by Coast Guard
Cutter, safeguarding thousands of human lives.
Courtesy of U.S. Coast Guard.]
The experiment of trying to demolish the larger bergs by gunnery was
tried, and a six-pound shot was fired full at close range at one of the
bergs. But it had no other result than to shake down a barrelful of
snow-like dust. Following up the various bergs kept the _Miami_ busy. At
the same time she sent and received messages from passing steamers along
the line of travel.
Only one large berg really got into a dangerous position, and this one
was as carefully plotted and its position as thoroughly made known to
vessels navigating the Atlantic as though it were a fixture. The course
of the large Atlantic greyhound _La France_ lay directly in the path of
the berg and, had it not been for the warnings of the _Miami_, there
might have been another ocean disaster to record. As the summer months
approached, the cruising was delightful but not particularly
interesting, and Eric, who craved excitement, was glad when, at the end
of June, the _Miami_ was ordered to resume her old station at Key West.
Two months passed before an emergency arose, but when it did come, it
proved to be one to tax the Coast Guard cutter to the full. Toward the
end of September a storm warning of a hurricane was issued, and the
_Miami_, which was searching for a derelict reported two hundred miles
west of Daytona, Florida, decided to run for Matanzas Inlet. About
daylight the next morning, the first actual warning of the hurricane,
aside from the notice sent out by the Weather Bureau, began to show
itself in short gusty puffs. The barometer fell low, finally touching
28 deg., lower than Eric had ever seen before.
The sky clouded gradually, and by breakfast time, the wind was
freshening from the southeast. By ten o'clock, the wind had risen to
half a gale, and before noon it was blowing not less than forty to fifty
miles an hour. The _Miami_ made good weather, but in the afternoon the
hurricane reached such a pitch of violence that it was decided to run
before the storm and try for the lee of Cape Fear, possibly finding a
safe anchorage in Masonboro Inlet.
As evening drew on the seas became appalling. The _Miami_ pitched her
nose down in the water, shipping it green with almost every dive, while
her propeller raced ten feet clear of water; next instant her stern
would settle as though she would never rise, while the bow climbed up
and up as the trough rolled underneath her. Eric, who was absolutely
free of any fear of the sea, enjoyed the storm extremely. It was tiring,
however, for, every second of the time, one had to hang on to something
for fear either of being washed overboard, or hurled around like a
catapult from a sling. When, therefore, the gaunt figure of Cape Fear
light was passed and the _Miami_ slipped in behind the lee of Smith
Island, every one felt a relief from the mad tossing.
They had not known this relief for more than about four minutes when the
spluttering of the wireless began.
"I'll bet that's some one in trouble," said Eric.
"Probably," his friend, the second lieutenant said, overhearing him.
"Haven't you been expecting it?"
"Hadn't thought of it, sir," said the boy. "We'd plenty to do to get in
here ourselves. Yes, there goes Mr. Keelson down to the captain. Could
we find out what's up, sir?"
The two young officers sauntered to the wireless operator's cabin.
"Somebody in trouble, I suppose, Wilson," the lieutenant said.
"Yes, sir," the operator answered, "two-masted steamer _Union_ reported
in distress, partly dismasted and with her engines disabled, anchored in
deep water off the Lookout Shoal."
"Probably dragging, sir?" queried Eric, knowing that his companion knew
the coast well.
"Most likely," the lieutenant answered. "If she's off Lookout, and the
wind veers round to the south'ard--which it's doing--that'll send her to
Cape Hatteras and Davy Jones' locker in a hurry. We may get there in
time, but there's not much we can do while this weather lasts."
"Hatteras is called the 'graveyard of ships,' isn't it?"
"There are a good many places in the world thus honored," said the
lieutenant, "and, so far as America is concerned, there are two, Cape
Cod and Cape Hatteras. There are five times as many wrecks between
Barnegat Point and Seguin Island as there are in all the other coasts of
the United States put together, but in proportion to the amount of
shipping that passes, Hatteras is the worst point in the world."
"Worse than the Horn?"
"A great deal," was the reply. "Shipmasters know the dangers of Cape
Horn and give it a wide berth--though steamers nowadays generally use
the Straits of Magellan--but Cape Hatteras is different. It juts right
out in the path of vessels running down the coast so that a ship makes
almost a right angle at that point."
"It's a wonder they don't build a lighthouse out on the shoals."
"It can't be done," said the other, shaking his head. "The contract was
awarded once, but the project fell through. The builder found it
impossible to carry it out. There's a New York firm that has been after
the Lighthouse Department for a long time to get a contract for the
building of a lighthouse on the shoals of Hatteras, but it wants four
million dollars, and the government thinks that a bit steep. A
first-class lightship can be kept in commission on the station for a
fraction of that sum."
"But is a lightship just as good?"
"N-no," the other answered dubiously, "a lightship, as such, is not as
good as a lighthouse, supposing both were at the same point. But a
lightship can always be placed in a more advantageous position than a
lighthouse, and in places where a lighthouse is impossible, a lightship
is invaluable. I should be inclined to say that the Diamond Shoals
Lightship off Cape Hatteras, the Frying Pan Shoals Lightship off Cape
Fear and the Nantucket Shoals Lightship off Montauk Point would take
rank as three of the most important lightships in the world."
"But I should think they would get blown off their stations every once
in a while," suggested Eric.
"They do," said the other; "not very often, but they do."
"Then what happens?"
"They steam back to their station and lie to as near it as possible. At
one time lightships used to be without any kind of propelling machinery,
and sometimes they were driven ashore. That happened to a German
lightship at the mouth of the Elbe, not so long ago, and all the crew
were lost."
"The Columbia River lightship went adrift, too, I remember," said the
boy; "they had to haul her back through the woods in order to get her
floated again and taken to her station."
"Exactly," said his friend, "that was another case of a lightship not
having her own steam. It's not only to enable a lightship keeping to
her station, or running to safety in the event of being blown off her
moorings, but you can see that in a severe storm, if a lightship can
steam ahead into the eye of the wind, she can take a lot of the strain
off her anchors. To tell you the truth, it's my private opinion that the
Diamond Shoals Lightship will need to-night every pound of steam she can
get. Look for'ard!"
The lieutenant pointed with his finger. The _Miami_, starting off to
help the disabled steamer in trouble, had turned her stern to the easy
anchorage and safe haven not more than two miles away, and was headed
for the open sea. Still under the lee of Cape Fear, the force of the
wind was greatly moderated and the sea was not more than ordinarily
rough. But where the lieutenant pointed, it was easy to see that the
storm was raging in its full fury. The waves were running high, their
crests whipped into spray by the gusts.
"You're right, sir," Eric agreed, "we're in for it! And, what's more,
here it comes now!"
Almost with the word the _Miami_ got into the full reach of the storm,
halted, gave a convulsive stagger, than plunged into the smother. For a
minute or two no one on deck could have told what had happened. The
shriek of the hurricane through her cordage, the harsh roaring of the
tempest-whipped sea, and the vengeful boom of the waves as they threw
their tons of water on the deck of the sturdy vessel made the senses
reel.
But the engines of the _Miami_ throbbed on steadily in defiance of the
tempest's fury. The Coast Guard cutter, like every member of her crew,
was picked for service, for stern and exalted service. Hurricanes might
hurl their monstrous strength upon her, eager billows might snatch at
her with their crushing gripe, shoals and reefs might hunger greedily
with foam-flecked fangs, still the _Miami_ plowed on through the storm.
From realms unknown where the elements hold council of discord, the
forces of destruction launched themselves upon her, but the white ship
of rescue steadily steamed on, with her lights quietly burning and her
officers and crew going about their duties in calm and perfect
confidence.
Morning broke with that blue-gray veiling of the world in a covering of
storm that sailors know so well. It was one of those mornings when the
best of ships looks worn and drazzled. The _Miami_ showed scars from her
night's battle with the tempest. One of the starboard boats had been
stove in, and the davits twisted with the force of a wave that had come
aboard. Even the most rigid discipline and the most perfect order failed
to make the little vessel trim. There was an "out all night" appearance
to the cutter which told--more than great actual damage could have
done--the dogged endurance of the vessel against the fury of wind and
sea.
But, down in the engine-room, the unceasing metal fingers that are the
children of men's brains throbbed steadily, and the screw of the little
vessel drove her on to her work of rescue. On deck, the Coast Guard men,
clear-eyed and determined, handled their day's routine with a sublime
disregard of the dangers of the sea. Other vessels might scurry to safe
harbors, but the _Miami_, flying the colors of Uncle Sam, set out on her
mission to save, with never a moment's halting.
On the _Miami_ drove. Presently, the crow's-nest lookout reported a
steamer. She was one of the big West Indian liners, and she came reeling
towards the cutter with lurchings that were alarming to behold. Only a
certain quick jauntiness of recovery told the tale that she, too, was
confident of her powers to weather the storm. She called by wireless
that she had passed the disabled steamer _Union_ two hours before, that
the vessel was dragging her anchors and was in too shoal water for the
liner to attempt a rescue.
"She's going to strike, sure," said Eric to his friend Homer, as the
news of the message was received.
"And going right over the Diamond Shoals. How would you like to have
charge of the _Miami_ now, Eric?"
The boy looked thoughtful.
"A year or two ago," he answered, "when I was in the Academy, I'd have
been tickled to death at the chance. Right now, when I think I know a
bit more, I'm quite satisfied to have Keelson on the bridge. I notice
the captain's been around a good bit, too."
"Our chief has been on the job below nearly all night, as well," Homer
replied. "I'm thinking, Eric, that this is about as bad weather as any
vessel can live through!"
On through the storm the _Miami_ sped, her engine driving at its fullest
speed despite the terrific strain put upon it when the vessel heaved her
stern out of water and the screw raced madly with nothing to catch. On
she sped, though her bow was pointed straight for the most treacherous
shoals on the Atlantic coast, bars of avid quicksand, on which thousands
of vessels had gone to swift and awful destruction. On toward the
Diamond Shoals the cutter pierced her way, though the gray veil of
driving spray hid everything a score of fathom before the vessel's bow.
[Illustration: A RESCUE ON THE DIAMOND SHOALS.
The Coast Guard Cutter in utmost peril, saving the lives of the crew of
the wrecked steamer, _Union_.
Courtesy of Scientific American.]
"By the deep four!" called out the leadsman, as the water shallowed.
Eric felt an uncomfortable sensation at the pit of his stomach. Four
fathoms! This was within a few feet of the bottom of the vessel. If she
should strike!
But the first lieutenant, unperturbed, peered out into the grayness. The
boy felt an overwhelming admiration of a man who could dare to take a
ship over the worst piece of coast in all the broad Atlantic, in a
driving hurricane, with never a landmark or a light to guide him, and
hold his nerve cool and self-assured. The captain was on the bridge, but
Eric noted that he never spoke to the first lieutenant. This, the boy
thought, told even more the spirit of the Coast Guard. Each man had
faith in the knowledge and skill of the other.
Into the very jaws of the breakers the little cutter sped, and, even
while the boy was looking fearfully on every side of him to see the
curling waves breaking on shoals not a hundred feet away, there appeared
before them the wrecked and disabled steamer. Over the bars the vessel
had pounded, her foretopmast had gone by the board, and she seemed in
hopeless case.
So powerful was the gale that it had plucked the hapless steamer out of
the jaws of the sucking sand, and flung her, like a plaything, into the
breakers beyond. The _Miami_ slowed down, her first pause in that awful
race, which was ending in the maze of the Diamond Shoals, with waves
breaking on every side and a hurricane whistling overhead.
It seemed even the most reckless foolhardiness to go on a fathom
further, but the first lieutenant seemed to know the bottom as though it
were a peaceful lane in a New England countryside, and after the
_Union_, the Coast Guard cutter crept warily. Even the boatswain
muttered under his breath,
"We'll never get out o' this!"
But, foot by foot, almost, the boy thought, step by step, the _Miami_
overhauled the wrecked vessel.
Then from the long silence that had reigned on the bridge, suddenly
issued a torrent of orders. The decks of the cutter seemed to bristle
with men, as when Jason sowed the dragon's teeth. Eric, though quick and
keen, had all he could do to fulfil the part of the work that was given
him and set the crew at the lines of the breeches-buoy. Every man was on
deck and every man was working with frantic haste.
In a fraction of time that seemed but a few seconds, a line was shot to
the _Union_, made fast by her crew on board, the breeches-buoy was
hauled out and the first of the men from the wreck was on the way to the
_Miami_. All this had been done in the few minutes that passed while the
cutter held herself within fifteen fathom of the schooner. Then the
_Miami_ dropped her anchor, to hold her place for the breeches-buoy.
Amid the scream of the gale in the rigging, and the pounding of the
breakers on the shoals, the men worked like fiends. Never did ropes slip
more quickly through their hands, never did sailors work more
feverishly. But, in spite of this wild and furious striving, it was
evident that the _Miami_ dare not hold her place. The _Union_ evidently
had lost one of her anchors, and the other was not holding in the sand.
Every few seconds she dragged, and, in order to prevent the
breeches-buoy tackle from being suddenly broken, the _Miami_ had to pay
out cable to keep in bearing. Each fathom of chain slipped brought her
that much nearer to the shoal.
There were thirty men in the _Union's_ crew and every man had been
brought aboard but the captain, when the Coast Guard cutter reached the
edge of the shoal. One minute more would mean success.
At that instant, a savage gust came hurtling in from sea, as though the
hurricane was bound to claim at least one victim. The captain of the
steamer had just thrust one leg through the breeches-buoy and the
_Miami's_ men, with a cheer, had started to haul him inboard, when that
gust struck the wrecked vessel. It keeled her over, snapping the line of
the breeches-buoy like a whip, and the captain of the steamer was jerked
out into the sea.
Absolutely without thinking of what he did, reverting for the instant
back to the old volunteer life-saving work, when every man went on his
own initiative, Eric tore off coat, trousers, and shoes, snatched a
life-belt, and plunged into the boiling breakers.
At the same second, before even his plunge was noted, the _Miami_
slipped her cable entirely, leaving chain and anchor as booty to the
Diamond Shoals and clawed away from the sandbar, not more than twenty
feet from her bow.
Eric, keyed to a wild and excited perception, saw the captain of the
steamer in the water, a few feet away, and swam to him. He found him
conscious but unable to swim, the jerk from the breeches-buoy having
twisted a sinew in his thigh.
It was a half a mile to land, and the breakers rose all round them. With
a blind intuition the boy struck out for shore. He knew it was no use
trying to reach the ship. How long he struggled he scarcely knew, but
the _Union's_ captain, though in pain and crippled, was able to use his
arms in swimming and, for a few minutes, from time to time, relieved the
boy.
It seemed that hours passed. The chill of failure began to creep into
Eric's spirits. No longer he swam with energy, but with desperation. The
hand of the steamer's captain on his shoulder grew heavier and heavier.
Spots danced before his eyes.
Suddenly his comrade spoke.
"A little further, lad," he said, "a little further. They've seen us!"
And, like a great white angel on the water, the power surf-boat of the
Cape Hatteras Coast Guard station came flying through the surf upon
them. The two branches of the Coast Guard had combined to snatch from
the graveyard of the deep its full-expected prey.
THE END
U. S. SERVICE SERIES
By FRANCIS ROLT-WHEELER
Illustrations from photographs taken in work for U. S. Government
Large 12mo Cloth $1.50 per volume
"There are no better books for boys than Francis Rolt-Wheeler's 'U. S.
Service Series.'"--_Chicago Record-Herald._
THE BOY WITH THE U. S. SURVEY
[Illustration]
This story describes the thrilling adventures of members of the U. S.
Geological Survey, graphically woven into a stirring narrative that both
pleases and instructs. The author enjoys an intimate acquaintance with
the chiefs of the various bureaus in Washington, and is able to obtain
at first hand the material for his books.
"There is abundant charm and vigor in the narrative
which is sure to please the boy readers and will do
much toward stimulating their patriotism by making them
alive to the needs of conservation of the vast
resources of their country."--_Chicago News._
THE BOY WITH THE U. S. FORESTERS
The life of a typical boy is followed in all its adventurous detail--the
mighty representative of our country's government, though young in
years--a youthful monarch in a vast domain of forest. Replete with
information, alive with adventure, and inciting patriotism at every
step, this handsome book is one to be instantly appreciated.
"It is a fascinating romance of real life in our
country, and will prove a great pleasure and
inspiration to the boys who read it."--_The Continent,
Chicago._
THE BOY WITH THE U. S. CENSUS
Through the experiences of a bright American boy, the author shows how
the necessary information is gathered. The securing of this often
involves hardship and peril, requiring journeys by dog-team in the
frozen North and by launch in the alligator-filled Everglades of
Florida, while the enumerator whose work lies among the dangerous
criminal classes of the greater cities must take his life in his own
hands.
"Every young man should read this story from cover to
cover, thereby getting a clear conception of conditions
as they exist to-day, for such knowledge will have a
clean, invigorating and healthy influence on the young
growing and thinking mind."--_Boston Globe._
THE BOY WITH THE U. S. FISHERIES
[Illustration]
With a bright, active American youth as a hero, is told the story of the
Fisheries, which in their actual importance dwarf every other human
industry. The book does not lack thrilling scenes. The far Aleutian
Islands have witnessed more desperate sea-fighting than has occurred
elsewhere since the days of the Spanish buccaneers, and pirate craft,
which the U. S. Fisheries must watch, rifle in hand, are prowling in the
Behring Sea to-day. The fish-farms of the United States are as
interesting as they are immense in their scope.
"One of the best books for boys of all ages, so
attractively written and illustrated as to fascinate
the reader into staying up until all hours to finish
it."--_Philadelphia Despatch._
THE BOY WITH THE U. S. INDIANS
[Illustration]
This book tells all about the Indian as he really was and is; the
Menominee in his birch-bark canoe; the Iroquois in his wigwam in the
forest; the Sioux of the plains upon his war-pony; the Apache, cruel and
unyielding as his arid desert; the Pueblo Indians, with remains of
ancient Spanish civilization lurking in the fastnesses of their massed
communal dwellings; the Tlingit of the Pacific Coast, with his
totem-poles. With a typical bright American youth as a central figure, a
good idea of a great field of national activity is given, and made
thrilling in its human side by the heroism demanded by the little-known
adventures of those who do the work of "Uncle Sam."
"An exceedingly interesting Indian story, because it is
true, and not merely a dramatic and picturesque
incident of Indian life."--_N. Y. Times._
"It tells the Indian's story in a way that will
fascinate the youngster."--_Rochester Herald._
_For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the
publishers_
LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON
The Book of Athletics
Edited by PAUL WITHINGTON
With many reproductions of photographs, and with diagrams
_8vo_ _Net, $1.50_ _Postpaid, $1.70_
[Illustration]
Nearly thirty college stars and champions, men like Dr. Kraenzlein,
Thorpe, Ketcham, "Sammy" White, "Eddie" Hart, Ralph Craig, "Hurry Up"
Yost, Jay Camp, Horner, Jackson, F. D. Huntington, R. Norris Williams,
"Eddie" Mahan, and many more tell the best there is to tell about every
form of athletic contest of consequence. In charge of the whole work is
Paul Withington, of Harvard, famous as football player, oarsman,
wrestler and swimmer.
"Here is a book that will serve a purpose and satisfy a
need. Every important phase of sport in school and
college is discussed within its covers by men who have
achieved eminent success in their line. Methods of
training, styles of play, and directions for attaining
success are expounded in a clear, forceful, attractive
manner."
_Harvard Monthly._
"The book is made up under the direction of the best
qualified editor to be found, Paul Withington, who is
one of America's greatest amateur athletes, and who has
the intellectual ability and high character requisite
for presenting such a book properly. The emphasis
placed upon clean living, fair play and moderation in
all things makes this book as desirable educationally
as it is in every other way."
_Outdoor Life._
"That Mr. Withington's book will be popular we do not
doubt. For it contains a series of expert treatises on
all important branches of outdoor sports. A very
readable, practical, well-illustrated book."
_Boston Herald._
_For sale by all booksellers or sent on receipt of postpaid price by the
publishers_
LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON
THE BOY ELECTRICIAN
Practical Plans for Electrical Toys and Apparatus, with an Explanation
of the Principles of Every-Day Electricity
By ALFRED P. MORGAN
_Author of "Wireless Telegraphy Construction for
Amateurs" and "Wireless Telegraphy and Telephony"_
_300 illustrations and working drawings by the author_
_Net, $2.00_ _Postpaid, $2.25_
[Illustration]
This is the age of electricity. The most fascinating of all books for a
boy must, therefore, be one dealing with the mystery of this ancient
force and modern wonder. The best qualified of experts to instruct boys
has in a book far superior to any other of its kind told not only how to
MAKE all kinds of motors, telegraphs, telephones, batteries, etc., but
how these appliances are used in the great industrial world.
"Of all books recently published on practical
electricity for the youthful electricians, it is
doubtful if there is even one among them that is more
suited to this field. This work is recommended to every
one interested in electricity and the making of
electrical appliances."
_Popular Electricity and Modern Mechanics._
"This is an admirably complete and explicit handbook
for boys who fall under the spell of experimenting and
"tinkering" with electrical apparatus. Simple
explanations of the principles involved make the
operation readily understandable."
_Boston Transcript._
"Any boy who studies this book, and applies himself to
the making and operating of the simple apparatus
therein depicted, will be usefully and happily
employed. He will, furthermore, be developing into a
useful citizen. For this reason we recommend it as an
excellent gift for all boys with energy, application,
and ambition."
_Electrical Record, N. Y. City._
"A book to delight the hearts of ten thousand--perhaps
fifty thousand--American boys who are interested in
wireless telegraphy and that sort of thing. Any boy who
has even a slight interest in things electrical, will
kindle with enthusiasm at sight of this book."
_Chicago News._
_For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the
publishers_
LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON
HANDICRAFT FOR HANDY BOYS
Practical Plans for Work and Play with Many Ideas for Earning Money
By A. NEELY HALL
Author of "The Boy Craftsman"
With Nearly 600 Illustrations and Working-drawings by
the Author and Norman P. Hall 8vo. Cloth
Net, $2.00 Postpaid, $2.25
[Illustration]
This book is intended for boys who want the latest ideas for making
things, practical plans for earning money, up-to-date suggestions for
games and sports, and novelties for home and school entertainments.
The author has planned the suggestions on an economical basis, providing
for the use of the things at hand, and many of the things which can be
bought cheaply. Mr. Hall's books have won the confidence of parents, who
realize that in giving them to their boys they are providing wholesome
occupations which will encourage self-reliance and resourcefulness, and
discourage tendencies to be extravagant.
Outdoor and indoor pastimes have been given equal attention, and much of
the work is closely allied to the studies of the modern grammar and high
schools, as will be seen by a glance at the following list of subjects,
which are only a few among those discussed in the 500 pages of text:
MANUAL TRAINING; EASILY-MADE FURNITURE; FITTING UP A BOY'S ROOM;
HOME-MADE GYMNASIUM APPARATUS; A BOY'S WIRELESS TELEGRAPH OUTFIT;
COASTERS AND BOB-SLEDS; MODEL AEROPLANES; PUSHMOBILES AND OTHER
HOME-MADE WAGONS; A CASTLE CLUBHOUSE AND HOME-MADE ARMOR.
Modern ingenious work such as the above cannot fail to develop
mechanical ability in a boy, and this book will get right next to his
heart.
"The book is a treasure house for boys who like to work
with tools and have a purpose in their
working."--_Springfield Union._
"It is a capital book for boys since it encourages them
in wholesome, useful occupation, encourages
self-reliance and resourcefulness and at the same time
discourages extravagance."--_Brooklyn Times._
"It is all in this book, and if anything has got away
from the author we do not know what it is."--_Buffalo
News._
_For sale by all booksellers, or sent on receipt of postpaid price by
the publishers_
LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., Boston
ON THE TRAIL OF THE SIOUX
The Adventures of Two Boy Scouts on the Minnesota Frontier
By D. LANGE
Illustrated 12mo Cloth Price, Net, $1.00 Postpaid, $1.10
[Illustration]
This story was written by a prominent educator to satisfy the insistent
demand of active boys for an "Indian Story," as well as to help them to
understand what even the young endured in the making of our country. The
story is based on the last desperate stand of the brave and warlike
Sioux tribes against the resistless tide of white men's civilization,
the thrilling scenes of which were enacted on the Minnesota frontier in
the early days of the Civil War.
"It is a book which will appeal to young and old alike,
as the incidents are historically correct and related
in a wide-awake manner."--_Philadelphia Press._
"It seems like a strange, true story more than fiction.
It is well written and in good taste, and it can be
commended to all boy readers and to many of their
elders."--_Hartford Times._
THE SILVER ISLAND OF THE CHIPPEWA
By D. LANGE
Illustrated 12mo Cloth Price, Net, $1.00 Postpaid, $1.10
[Illustration]
Here is a boys' book that tells of the famous Silver Island in Lake
Superior from which it is a fact that ore to the value of $3,089,000 was
taken, and represents a youth of nineteen and his active small brother
aged eleven as locating it after eight months of wild life, during which
they wintered on Isle Royale. Their success and escape from a murderous
half-breed are due to the friendship of a noble Chippewa Indian, and
much is told of Indian nature and ways by one who thoroughly knows the
subject.
"There is no call to buy cheap, impossible stuff for
boys' reading while there is such a book as this
available."--_Philadelphia Inquirer._
_For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the
publishers_
LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON
PHILLIPS EXETER SERIES
By A. T. DUDLEY
Cloth, 12mo Illustrated by Charles Copeland Price per volume, $1.25
FOLLOWING THE BALL
Here is an up-to-date story presenting American boarding-school life and
modern athletics. Football is an important feature, but it is a story of
character formation in which athletics play an important part.
"Mingled with the story of football is another and
higher endeavor, giving the book the best of moral
tone."--_Chicago Record-Herald._
MAKING THE NINE
The life presented is that of a real school, interesting, diversified,
and full of striking incidents, while the characters are true and
consistent types of American boyhood and youth. The athletics are
technically correct, abounding in helpfull suggestions, and the moral
tone is high and set by action rather than preaching.
"The story is healthful, for, while it exalts
athletics, it does not overlook the fact that studious
habits and noble character are imperative needs for
those who would win success in life."--_Herald and
Presbyter, Cincinnati._
IN THE LINE
Tells how a stalwart young student won his position as guard, and at the
same time made equally marked progress in the formation of character.
Plenty of jolly companions contribute a strong, humorous element, and
the book has every essential of a favorite.
"The book gives boys an interesting story, much
football information, and many lessons in true
manliness."--_Watchman, Boston._
With Mask and Mitt
[Illustration]
While baseball plays an important part in this story, it is not the only
element of attraction. While appealing to the natural normal tastes of
boys for fun and interest in the national game, the book, without
preaching, lays emphasis on the building up of character.
"No normal boy who is interested in our great national
game can fail to find interest and profit, too, in this
lively boarding school story."--_Interior, Chicago._
THE GREAT YEAR
Three fine, manly comrades, respectively captains of the football,
baseball, and track and field athletic teams, make a compact to support
each other so that they may achieve a "great year" of triple victory
over their traditional rival, "Hillbury."
THE YALE CUP
The "Cup" is an annual prize given by a club of Yale alumni to the
member of the Senior class of each of several preparatory schools "who
best combines proficiency in athletics with good standing in his
studies."
A FULL-BACK AFLOAT
At the close of his first year in college Dick Melvin is induced to earn
a passage to Europe by helping on a cattle steamer. The work is not so
bad, but Dick finds ample use for the vigor, self control, and quick wit
in emergency which he has gained from football.
THE PECKS IN CAMP
The Pecks are twin brothers so resembling each other that it was almost
impossible to tell them apart, a fact which the roguish lads made the
most of in a typical summer camp for boys.
THE HALF-MILER
[Illustration]
This is the story of a young man of positive character facing the stern
problem of earning his way in a big school. The hero is not an imaginary
compound of superlatives, but a plain person of flesh and blood, aglow
with the hopeful idealism of youth, who succeeds and is not spoiled by
success. He can run, and he does run--through the story.
"It is a good, wholesome, and true-to-life story, with
plenty of happenings such as normal boys enjoy reading
about."--_Brooklyn Daily Times._
_For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the
publishers_
LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON
_ST. DUNSTAN SERIES_
By WARREN L. ELDRED
Illustrated Large 12mo Cloth $1.50 each
THE CRIMSON RAMBLERS
Five close friends in the freshman class at St. Dunstan's school, and a
teacher of the best sort, plan for a summer vacation in camp in Maine.
They adopt the name which gives the title to the book, and having gone
to Boston by water, complete their journey on foot, with plenty of
adventures along the way.
CAMP ST. DUNSTAN
A typical summer camp for boys, with all its interesting routine, is
described in connection with the story. Interesting new characters are
introduced, a mystery develops, and every element of a good boy's story
is present.
CLASSROOM AND CAMPUS
A group of likely lads entering upon the second year at "St. Dunstan's"
are led to believe that things might be much better at their school if
there were a higher standard of student honor and obligation, and these
active, vigorous boys work wonders in school sentiment.
ST. DUNSTAN BOY SCOUTS
[Illustration]
There are no better stories for boys than the really clean tales of
school life, and the boys of the school called "St. Dunstan" in this
series are types of the best sort of American youth, good fellows and
good students, in most cases, but not _too_ good. They become interested
in the "Boy Scout" movement and organize a company at the school. There
is work for them of a mysterious and puzzling nature, and they acquit
themselves well. In conclusion, they have a very enjoyable week's
"hike."
"Here is a thoroughly wholesome book for boys, filled
with boy life from cover to cover."
--_Baltimore Sun._
_For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the
publishers_
LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON
FOUR GORDONS
By EDNA A. BROWN
Illustrated Large 12mo Decorated Cover $1.50
[Illustration]
Louise and her three brothers are the "Four Gordons," and the story
relates their experiences at home and school during the absence of their
parents for a winter in Italy. There is plenty of fun and frolic, with
skating, coasting, dancing, and a jolly Christmas visit. The
conversation is bright and natural, the book presents no improbable
situations, its atmosphere is one of refinement, and it has the merit of
depicting simple and wholesome comradeship between boys and girls.
"The story and its telling are worthy of Miss Alcott.
Young folks of both sexes will enjoy it."--_N. Y. Sun._
"It is a hearty, wholesome story of youthful life in
which the morals are never explained but simply
illustrated by logical results."--_Christian Register._
UNCLE DAVID'S BOYS
By EDNA A. BROWN
Illustrated by John Goss 12mo Cloth
Price, Net, $1.00 Postpaid, $1.10
[Illustration]
This tells how some young people whom circumstances brought together in
a little mountain village spent a summer vacation, full of good times,
but with some unexpected and rather mysterious occurrences. In the end,
more than one head was required to find out exactly what was going on.
The story is a wholesome one with a pleasant, well-bred atmosphere, and
though it holds the interest, it never approaches the sensational nor
passes the bounds of the probable.
"A story which will hold the attention of youthful
readers from cover to cover and prove not without its
interest for older readers."--_Evening Wisconsin._
"For those young people who like a lively story with
some unmistakably old fashioned characteristics, 'Uncle
David's Boys,' will have a strong
appeal."--_Churchman._
_For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the
publishers_
LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON
Transcriber's Note: The following typographical errors
present in the original text have been corrected for
this electronic edition.
On the copyright page, "Norwood Perss" has been changed
to "Norwood Press".
In Chapter II, a missing period was added after "I don't
claim to be amphibious, exactly".
In the illustration captioned "Sliding Down to Work",
"Lighthhouse-builders" was changed to
"Lighthouse-builders".
In Chapter III, "holdin on to him" was changed to
"holdin' on to him", and "sixteeen per cent" was changed
to "sixteen per cent".
In Chapter IV, a comma was changed to a period following
"rousted out the crew".
In Chapter V, "come to live" was changed to "come to
life".
In Chapter VIII, "overwhemed by an avalanche" was
changed to "overwhelmed by an avalanche".
In Chapter X, "As the _Miama_ neared her" was changed to
"As the _Miami_ neared her".
In Chapter XI, "were sent abroad" was changed to "were
sent aboard".