"A Man overboard!"
This was the startling cry that rang out from the multitude swarming
forward on the ferry-boat D. S. Gregory, one wintry night, as she was
approaching the dock at the foot of Courtlandt Street, on her trip from
Jersey City.
For a few seconds confusion and excitement reigned supreme.
The boat was crowded with passengers, many of whom had passed out of the
forward cabin doors, and were pushing toward the bow, eager to be the
first to leap ashore, scarcely willing to wait till the lattice-like gates
were drawn aside to allow them to pass.
Some were smoking, many were talking, and no one was dreaming of anything
wrong, when the alarming cry resounded through the frosty air.
The captain heard it on the instant, as did the engineer; for the latter
checked the swinging of the ponderous working-beam at the same second that
he received the signal from the captain--a thing which never happens
unless in some such emergency.
As the throbbing of the engine ceased and the boat glided smoothly along,
there was such a general rush toward the bow that a dangerous dipping of
the craft followed--a peril which no one beside the officials on the
vessel observed.
"Who is he?"
"Did he jump over?"
"Did he fall?"
"Was he pushed?"
"Can he be saved?"
"Where is he?"
These and similar questions were on a hundred lips; and before any
intelligible answer could be given, a woman gave utterance to the most
heart-rending scream, and made such frantic attempts to spring into the
water, that the intervention of several strong men was required to prevent
her.
"It must be her husband."
But the expression was yet in the mouth of the speaker, when, falling limp
and despairing into the sturdy arms of the unknown friends, she wailed,--
"Will no one save my child? Let me go to her; she is all that is left to
me--oh, let me die with her!"
"It's a little girl that fell overboard," called out some one who had seen
the accident. "There she is--hello!"
The last exclamation was caused by a second splash, as a dark body clave
the air and dropped into the water within a few yards of where the dress
of the little girl could be faintly discerned.
"Heavens, that is only a little boy!" called out an excited individual.
"Are all the children to be drowned before our eyes?"
The general belief was that this lad, through some strange mischance, had
also fallen into the river, a belief which was quickly dispelled by
another boy, no doubt his playmate, calling out,--
"That's my chum, Tom, and you needn't be afraid of him; he can outswim a
duck and a goose and a fish all together; he jumped over to save that
little girl, seeing as all you big men was afraid--and you can just bet
he'll do it too."
There was a tone of absolute certainty in these remarkable words which
lifted a mountain from more than one heart, and instantly transferred all
interest to the brave young lad who had sprung into the water to save a
little girl that was a stranger to him.
A cold wintry night was closing in when this accident took place, and the
lights from the shipping and the great city twinkled like myriads of
stars.
Great black hulls lay still and motionless in the water, as if they were
enormous ogres of the deep waiting for human prey to come into their vast
maws; steam-tugs were puffing and darting here and there, in and out
among the shipping, as though they were playing hide-and-seek with each
other; another ferry-boat was just putting out from the dock on the New
York side, the paddle-wheels crunching and grinding the chunks of ice, as
if masticating its food.
In the chilly gloom of the evening, the crowds that swarmed to the
gunwales and peered forward could see something floating in the water; and
though no one could define exactly what it was with the aid of the sight
alone, yet, by a general consent, it was accepted as the form of the
little girl that had fallen overboard.
A second figure was seen working his way toward the nerveless and silent
one.
The two were no more than fairly out of the path of the steamer, which was
gliding so closely by them that any movement of the wheels would have
endangered both.
Among those who forced their way to the side of the boat was the lad who
gave utterance to the words before recorded. It was natural that he should
be deeply interested when his dearest friend was risking his life to save
another. As soon as the lad on the boat caught fair sight of the other, he
shouted,--
"Hello, Tom! do you want any help?"
"Three chaars for the wee one!" called out an Irishman, boiling over with
enthusiasm, "and if there's a spalpeen on boord that don't jine in, I'll
crack the head of the same, or me name isn't Patsey McConough!"
But the deck-hands had not been idle spectators during the few minutes
since the accident.
Prompt as they had been, the children were, however, so far off at the
moment of tossing over the life-preservers and hurling out the ropes, that
none reached the lad, who was too intent on saving the child to pay any
attention to these little helps, which he did not need.
When the craft stood at a dead halt, the engineer caused a slight and only
partial reverse movement of the wheels, so as to approach the couple.
"Yes, there he comes," shouted a tall fellow, leaning so far over the rail
that he was in danger of falling, "and I'm blessed if he ain't got the
girl!"
Such was the fact, as all perceived the next moment. The boy was
supporting the little form with one hand, while he propelled himself with
the other.
As soon as Tom came within reach, another lasso-like fling was made, the
coil dropping so near the boy that he succeeded in grasping it with his
free hand.
Whoever the little fellow was that was acting the _rĂ´le_, he certainly was
a genius in his way. His presence of mind was almost marvelous.
When the waves from the threshing-paddle so unexpectedly overwhelmed him,
he had just time to draw a deep inspiration before he was environed by
death. The most skillful swimmer in the world cannot sustain himself in
sea-foam, or in the white caps of the breakers. The only safe course when
thus caught is to hold your breath and wait for "solid water," where you
can paddle your own canoe.
Almost any one thus entrapped would have let go the rope and been drowned,
but the boy held on with the grip of death, and as soon as he could catch
a mouthful of fresh air, shouted,--
"Pull up; I'm all right."
A dozen hands were outstretched to help, and the next minute the brave
lad, still holding the senseless girl with one arm, was drawn up on deck,
and received into the crowd, who almost pulled him apart in their frenzied
congratulations.
It was found that the little girl was alive, and carrying her into the
cabin where her mother had just recovered from her swoon, a medical
gentleman announced that there was nothing to fear.
The wheels of the ferry-boat were again in motion, and the slip was
reached, while a hundred men were demanding the name of the young hero,
praising him, offering to make up a purse, hurrahing, and going wild over
what was unquestionably a most praiseworthy deed.
In the midst of the excitement and rattling of chains, the crowd swarmed
off the boat, and the lads were lost sight of.