THE SCENE CHANGES--RUBY IS VULCANIZED
As Captain Ogilvy had predicted, Ruby was at once engaged as an
assistant blacksmith on the Bell Rock. In fact, they were only too
glad to get such a powerful, active young fellow into their service;
and he was shipped off with all speed in the sloop _Smeaton_, with a
few others who were going to replace some men who had become ill and
were obliged to leave.
A light westerly breeze was blowing when they cast off the moorings
of the sloop.
"Goodbye, Ruby," said the captain, as he was about to step on the
pier. "Remember your promise, lad, to keep quiet, and don't try to
get ashore, or be hold communication with anyone till you hear from
me."
"All right, uncle, I won't forget, and I'll make my mind easy, for I
know that my case is left in good hands."
Three hours elapsed ere the _Smeaton_ drew near to the Bell Rock.
During this time, Ruby kept aloof from his fellow-workmen, feeling
disposed to indulge the sad thoughts which filled his mind. He sat
down on the bulwarks, close to the main shrouds, and gazed back at
the town as it became gradually less and less visible in the faint
light of morning. Then he began to ponder his unfortunate
circumstances, and tried to imagine how his uncle would set about
clearing up his character and establishing his innocence; but, do
what he would, Ruby could not keep his mind fixed for any length of
time on any subject or line of thought, because of a vision of
sweetness which it is useless to attempt to describe, and which was
always accompanied by, and surrounded with, a golden halo.
At last the youth gave up the attempt to fix his thoughts, and
allowed them to wander as they chose, seeing that they were resolved
to do so whether he would or no. The moment these thoughts had the
reins flung on their necks, and were allowed to go where they
pleased, they refused, owing to some unaccountable species of
perversity, to wander at all, but at once settled themselves
comfortably down beside the vision with golden hair, and remained
there.
This agreeable state of things was rudely broken in upon by the
hoarse voice of the mate shouting--
"Stand by to let go the anchor."
Then Ruby sprang on the deck and shook himself like a great mastiff,
and resolved to devote himself, heart and soul, from that moment, to
the work in which he was about to engage.
The scene that presented itself to our hero when he woke up from his
dreams would have interested and excited a much less enthusiastic
temperament than his.
The breeze had died away altogether, just as if, having wafted the
_Smeaton_ to her anchorage, there were no further occasion for its
services. The sea was therefore quite calm, and as there had only
been light westerly winds for some time past, there was little or
none of the swell that usually undulates the sea. One result of this
was, that, being high water when the Smeaton arrived, there was no
sign whatever of the presence of the famous Bell Rock. It lay
sleeping nearly two fathoms below the sea, like a grim giant in
repose, and not a ripple was there to tell of the presence of the
mariner's enemy.
The sun was rising, and its slanting beams fell on the hulls of the
vessels engaged in the service, which lay at anchor at a short
distance from each other. These vessels, as we have said, were four
in number, including the Smeaton. The others were the _Sir Joseph
Banks_, a small schooner-rigged vessel; the _Patriot_, a little
sloop; and the _Pharos_ lightship, a large clumsy-looking Dutch-built
ship, fitted with three masts, at the top of which were the lanterns.
It was intended that this vessel should do duty as a lightship until
the lighthouse should be completed.
Besides these there were two large boats, used for landing stones and
building materials on the rock.
These vessels lay floating almost motionless on the calm sea, and at
first there was scarcely any noise aboard of them to indicate that
they were tenanted by human beings, but when the sound of the
_Smeaton's_ cable was heard there was a bustle aboard of each, and
soon faces were seen looking inquisitively over the sides of the
ships.
The _Smeaton's_ boat was lowered after the anchor was let go, and the
new hands were transferred to the _Pharos_, which was destined to be
their home for some time to come.
Just as they reached her the bell rang for breakfast, and when Ruby
stepped upon the deck he found himself involved in all the bustle
that ensues when men break off from work and make preparation for the
morning meal.
There were upwards of thirty artificers on board the lightship at
this time. Some of these, as they hurried to and fro, gave the new
arrivals a hearty greeting, and asked, "What news from the shore?"
Others were apparently too much taken up with their own affairs to
take notice of them.
While Ruby was observing the busy scene with absorbing interest, and
utterly forgetful of the fact that he was in any way connected with
it, an elderly gentleman, whose kind countenance and hearty manner
gave indication of a genial spirit within, came up and accosted him:
"You are our assistant blacksmith, I believe?"
"Yes, sir, I am," replied Ruby, doffing his cap, as if he felt
instinctively that he was in the presence of someone of note.
"You have had considerable practice, I suppose, in your trade?"
"A good deal, sir, but not much latterly, for I have been at sea for
some time."
"At sea? Well, that won't be against you here," returned the
gentleman, with a meaning smile. "It would be well if some of my men
were a little more accustomed to the sea, for they suffer much from
sea-sickness. You can go below, my man, and get breakfast. You'll
find your future messmate busy at his, I doubt not. Here, steward,"
(turning to one of the men who chanced to pass at the moment,) "take
Ruby Brand--that is your name, I think?"
"It is, sir."
"Take Brand below, and introduce him to James Dove as his assistant."
The steward escorted Ruby down the ladder that conducted to those
dark and littered depths of the ship's hull that were assigned to the
artificers as their place of abode. But amidst a good deal of
unavoidable confusion, Ruby's practised eye discerned order and
arrangement everywhere.
"This is your messmate, Jamie Dove," said the steward, pointing to a
massive dark man, whose outward appearance was in keeping with his
position as the Vulcan of such an undertaking as he was then engaged
in. "You'll find him not a bad feller if you only don't cross him."
He added, with a wink, "His only fault is that he's given to spoilin'
good victuals, being raither floored by sea-sickness if it comes on
to blow ever so little."
"Hold your clapper, lad," said the smith, who was at the moment
busily engaged with a mess of salt pork, and potatoes to match.
"Who's your friend?"
"No friend of mine, though I hope he'll be one soon," answered the
steward. "Mr. Stevenson told me to introduce him to you as your
assistant."
The smith looked up quickly, and scanned our hero with some interest;
then, extending his great hard hand across the table, he said,
"Welcome, messmate; sit down, I've only just begun."
Ruby grasped the hand with his own, which, if not so large, was quite
as powerful, and shook the smith's right arm in a way that called
forth from that rough-looking individual a smile of approbation.
"You've not had breakfast, lad?"
"No, not yet," said Ruby, sitting down opposite his comrade.
"An' the smell here don't upset your stummick, I hope?"
The smith said this rather anxiously.
"Not in the least," said Ruby with a laugh, and beginning to eat in a
way that proved the truth of his words; "for the matter o' that,
there's little smell and no motion just now."
"Well, there isn't much," replied the smith, "but, woe's me! you'll
get enough of it before long. All the new landsmen like you suffer
horribly from sea-sickness when they first come off."
"But I'm not a landsman," said Ruby.
"Not a landsman!" echoed the other. "You're a blacksmith, aren't
you?"
"Ay, but not a landsman. I learned the trade as a boy and lad; but
I've been at sea for some time past."
"Then you won't get sick when it blows?"
"Certainly not; will _you_?"
The smith groaned and shook his head, by which answer he evidently
meant to assure his friend that he would, most emphatically.
"But come, it's of no use groanin' over what can't be helped. I get
as sick as a dog every time the wind rises, and the worst of it is I
don't never seem to improve. Howsever, I'm all right when I get on
the rock, and that's the main thing."
Ruby and his friend now entered upon a long and earnest conversation
as to their peculiar duties at the Bell Rock, with which we will not
trouble the reader.
After breakfast they went on deck, and here Ruby had sufficient to
occupy his attention and to amuse him for some hours.
As the tide that day did not fall low enough to admit of landing on
the rock till noon, the men were allowed to spend the time as they
pleased. Some therefore took to fishing, others to reading, while a
few employed themselves in drying their clothes, which had got wet
the previous day, and one or two entertained themselves and their
comrades with the music of the violin and flute. All were busy with
one thing or another, until the rock began to show its black crest
above the smooth sea. Then a bell was rung to summon the artificers
to land.
This being the signal for Ruby to commence work, he joined his friend
Dove, and assisted him to lower the bellows of the forge into the
boat. The men were soon in their places, with their various tools,
and the boats pushed off--Mr. Stevenson, the engineer of the
building, steering one boat, and the master of the _Pharos_, who was
also appointed to the post of landing-master, steering the other.
They landed with ease on this occasion on the western side of the
rock, and then each man addressed himself to his special duty with
energy. The time during which they could work being short, they had
to make the most of it.
"Now, lad," said the smith, "bring along the bellows and follow me.
Mind yer footin', for it's slippery walkin' on them tangle-covered
rocks. I've seen some ugly falls here already."
"Have any bones been broken yet?" enquired Ruby, as he shouldered the
large pair of bellows, and followed the smith cautiously over the
rocks.
"Not yet; but there's been an awful lot o' pipes smashed. If it goes
on as it has been, we'll have to take to metal ones. Here we are,
Ruby, this is the forge, and I'll be bound you never worked at such a
queer one before. Hallo! Bremner!" he shouted to one of the men.
"That's me," answered Bremner.
"Bring your irons as soon as you like! I'm about ready for you."
"Ay, ay, here they are," said the man, advancing with an armful of
picks, chisels, and other tools, which required sharpening.
He slipped and fell as he spoke, sending all the tools into the
bottom of a pool of water; but, being used to such mishaps, he arose,
joined in the laugh raised against him, and soon fished up the tools.
"What's wrong!" asked Ruby, pausing in the work of fixing the
bellows, on observing that the smith's face grew pale, and his
general expression became one of horror. "Not sea-sick, I hope?"
"Sea-sick," gasped the smith, slapping all his pockets hurriedly,
"it's worse than that; I've forgot the matches!"
Ruby looked perplexed, but had no consolation to offer.
"That's like you," cried Bremner, who, being one of the principal
masons, had to attend chiefly to the digging out of the
foundation-pit of the building, and knew that his tools could not be
sharpened unless the forge fire could be lighted.
"Suppose you hammer a nail red-hot," suggested one of the men, who
was disposed to make game of the smith.
"I'll hammer your nose red-hot," replied Dove, with a most undovelike
scowl, "I could swear that I put them matches in my pocket before I
started."
"No, you didn't," said George Forsyth, one of the carpenters--a tall
loose-jointed man, who was chiefly noted for his dislike to getting
into and out of boats, and climbing up the sides of ships, because of
his lengthy and unwieldy figure--"No, you didn't, you turtle-dove,
you forgot to take them; but I remembered to do it for you; so there,
get up your fire, and confess yourself indebted to me for life."
"I'm indebted to 'ee for fire," said the smith, grasping the matches
eagerly. "Thank'ee, lad, you're a true Briton."
"A tall 'un, rather," suggested Bremner.
"Wot never, never, never will be a slave," sang another of the men.
"Come, laddies, git up the fire. Time an' tide waits for naebody,"
said John Watt, one of the quarriers. "We'll want thae tools before
lang."
The men were proceeding with their work actively while those remarks
were passing, and ere long the smoke of the forge fire arose in the
still air, and the clang of the anvil was added to the other noises
with which the busy spot resounded.
The foundation of the Bell Rock Lighthouse had been carefully
selected by Mr. Stevenson; the exact spot being chosen not only with
a view to elevation, but to the serrated ridges of rock, that might
afford some protection to the building, by breaking the force of the
easterly seas before they should reach it; but as the space available
for the purpose of building was scarcely fifty yards in diameter,
there was not much choice in the matter.
The foundation-pit was forty-two feet in diameter, and sunk five feet
into the solid rock. At the time when Ruby landed, it was being hewn
out by a large party of the men. Others were boring holes in the rock
near to it, for the purpose of fixing the great beams of a beacon,
while others were cutting away the seaweed from the rock, and making
preparations for the laying down of temporary rails to facilitate the
conveying of the heavy stones from the boats to their ultimate
destination. All were busy as bees. Each man appeared to work as if
for a wager, or to find out how much he could do within a given space
of time.
To the men on the rock itself the aspect of the spot was sufficiently
striking and peculiar, but to those who viewed it from a boat at a
short distance off it was singularly interesting, for the whole scene
of operations appeared like a small black spot, scarcely above the
level of the waves, on which a crowd of living creatures were moving
about with great and incessant activity, while all around and beyond
lay the mighty sea, sleeping in the grand tranquillity of a calm
summer day, with nothing to bound it but the blue sky, save to the
northward, where the distant cliffs of Forfar rested like a faint
cloud on the horizon.
The sounds, too, which on the rock itself were harsh and loud and
varied, came over the water to the distant observer in a united tone,
which sounded almost as sweet as soft music.
The smith's forge stood on a ledge of rock close to the
foundation-pit, a little to the north of it. Here Vulcan Dove had
fixed a strong iron framework, which formed the hearth. The four legs
which supported it were let into holes bored from six to twelve
inches into the rock, according to the inequalities of the site.
These were wedged first with wood and then with iron, for as this
part of the forge and the anvil was doomed to be drowned every tide,
or twice every day, besides being exposed to the fury of all the
storms that might chance to blow, it behoved them to fix things down
with unusual firmness.
The block of timber for supporting the anvil was fixed in the same
manner, but the anvil itself was left to depend on its own weight and
the small stud fitted into the bottom of it.
The bellows, however, were too delicate to be left exposed to such
forces as the stormy winds and waves, they were therefore shipped and
unshipped every tide, and conveyed to and from the rock in the boats
with the men.
Dove and Ruby wrought together like heroes. They were both so
powerful that the heavy implements they wielded seemed to possess no
weight when in their strong hands, and their bodies were so lithe and
active as to give the impression of men rejoicing, revelling, in the
enjoyment of their work.
"That's your sort; hit him hard, he's got no friends," said Dove,
turning a mass of red-hot metal from side to side, while Ruby pounded
it with a mighty hammer, as if it were a piece of putty.
"Fire and steel for ever," observed Ruby, as he made the sparks fly
right and left. "Hallo! the tide's rising."
"Ho! so it is," cried the smith, finishing off the piece of work with
a small hammer, while Ruby rested on the one he had used and wiped
the perspiration from his brow. "It always serves me in this way,
lad," continued the smith, without pausing for a moment in his work.
"Blow away, Ruby, the sea is my greatest enemy. Every day, a'most, it
washes me away from my work. In calm weather, it creeps up my legs,
and the legs o' the forge too, till it gradually puts out the fire,
and in rough weather it sends up a wave sometimes that sweeps the
whole concern black out at one shot.
"It will _creep_ you out to-day, evidently," said Ruby, as the water
began to come about his toes.
"Never mind, lad, we'll have time to finish them picks this tide, if
we work fast."
Thus they toiled and moiled, with their heads and shoulders in smoke
and fire, and their feet in water.
Gradually the tide rose.
"Pump away, Ruby! Keep the pot bilin', my boy," said the smith.
"The wind blowin', you mean. I say, Dove, do the other men like the
work here?"
"Like it, ay, they like it well. At first we were somewhat afraid o'
the landin' in rough weather, but we've got used to that now. The
only bad thing about it is in the rolling o' that horrible _Pharos_.
She's so bad in a gale that I sometimes think she'll roll right over
like a cask. Most of us get sick then, but I don't think any of 'em
are as bad as me. They seem to be gettin' used to that too. I wish I
could. Another blow, Ruby."
"Time's up," shouted one of the men.
"Hold on just for a minute or two," pleaded the smith, who, with his
assistant, was by this time standing nearly knee-deep in water.
The sea had filled the pit some time before, and driven the men out
of it. These busied themselves in collecting the tools and seeing
that nothing was left lying about, while the men who were engaged on
those parts of the rocks that were a few inches higher, continued
their labours until the water crept up to them. Then they collected
their tools, and went to the boats, which lay awaiting them at the
western landing-place.
"Now, Dove," cried the landing-master, "come along; the crabs will be
attacking your toes if you don't."
"It's a shame to gi'e Ruby the chance o' a sair throat the very first
day," cried John Watt.
"Just half a minute more," said the smith, examining a pickaxe, which
he was getting up to that delicate point of heat which is requisite
to give it proper temper.
While he gazed earnestly into the glowing coals a gentle hissing
sound was heard below the frame of the forge, then a gurgle, and the
fire became suddenly dark and went out!
"I knowed it! always the way!" cried Dove, with a look of
disappointment. "Come, lad, up with the bellows now, and don't forget
the tongs."
In a few minutes more the boats pushed off and returned to the
Pharos, three and a half hours of good work having been accomplished
before the tide drove them away.
Soon afterwards the sea overflowed the whole of the rock, and
obliterated the scene of those busy operations as completely as
though it had never been!