SAVED BY THE LIFE CHAIN
The line of reefs stood as a barrier to the sea, and after the waves
came in contact with the rocks they continued on their course with less
violence than before.
Still, it was terrible enough to any one exposed to their fury.
Hope soars high in the breast of youth, however, and life is sweet, so
that our hero continued to struggle against the forces to which he found
himself exposed.
Again had his eyes caught a glimpse of a burning light on the shore, and
somehow it gave him renewed courage to hold on, for he seemed to
understand that determined hearts were waiting there, eager to give him
a helping hand.
Then some object sped past him, and he caught the sight of flashing
oars.
It was the lifeboat!
In spite of the great danger involved in the undertaking, the coast
guards had succeeded in launching their boat, and were even now heading
toward the wreck on the reef; though the chances of finding a single
living soul aboard seemed small indeed, for the billows were breaking
completely over her, and she must soon go to pieces.
Darry tried to call out, but his mouth filled with salty water, and in
despair he saw the boat pass him by.
Even the lightning failed to illumine the scene just then, or some eager
eye might have detected the floating spar and its human burden.
No hope remained save that he might be tossed up on the beach somewhere
near the friendly fire that was burning as a beacon.
Once he fancied he heard men shouting during a lull in the roar of the
elements; but the coming of another smothering billow shut out the
friendly sounds.
Closer he was flung, until he could again hear the shouts of men, but
the baffling seas kept playing with him, sending him up on the breaking
wave only to once more snatch him back, until the poor boy almost
despaired of living through the dreadful ordeal.
He tried his best to raise his voice, but the cry he gave utterance to
was so feeble that even if heard it must have been taken for the note of
some storm bird attracted by the light of the beacon fire.
Just when he was giving way to despair, he saw the figures of men
running along the beach close to the edge of the waves, and new hope
awoke in his breast that his predicament had been seen.
Now they were pushing into the sea, holding one another's hands, and
forming a living chain, with a sturdy fellow at the end to snatch the
victim of the wreck out of the jaws of death.
The precious sight was at that instant shut out, for again there came a
deluge of water from behind, overwhelming the boy on the floating spar.
Darry felt something take hold upon him, which, in his excited
condition, he at first believed to be a shark; but, on the contrary, it
proved to be the fingers of the man at the outer end of the line.
Once they closed upon the person of the shipwrecked cabin boy they could
not be easily induced to let go, and amid shouts of triumph, spar and
lad were speedily dragged up on the beach beyond reach of the hungry
waves.
He was dimly conscious of being released from his friendly float, and
tenderly carried a short distance to the shelter of a house.
It was the life-saving station to which the boy had been taken by his
rescuers.
[ILLUSTRATION: HE WAS DIMLY CONSCIOUS OF BEING RELEASED FROM HIS
FRIENDLY FLOAT.]
Here he was wrapped in blankets, and placed close to a warm fire in
order to restore his benumbed faculties; while some hot liquid being
forced between his pallid lips served to give new strength to his body.
In less than ten minutes he opened his eyes and looked around.
Kind faces, even though rough and bearded, surrounded him, and he knew
that for once he had cheated the sea of a victim.
As strength came back he began to take an interest in what was passing
around him, especially when he saw several men carried in, whom he
recognized as some of the sailors of the ill-fated brigantine.
Eagerly he watched and prayed that his good friend the captain might be
one of those who had been snatched from a watery grave; but as time
passed this hope gradually became fainter.
The lifeboat had managed to return from the wreck, to report that not a
living soul remained aboard; and that the seas were so tremendous that
even had it been otherwise there would have been small chance of saving
them, since it was next to impossible to approach close to the vessel.
How the boy, lying there, looked with almost reverence upon those
stalwart fellows who were risking their lives in the effort to save
their fellow men.
Darry would never forget that hour.
The impressions he received then would remain with him through life;
and in his eyes the calling of a life saver must always be reckoned the
noblest vocation to which a young man could pledge himself.
He thought he would like nothing better than to become one of the band,
and in some way repay the great debt he owed them by doing as he had
been done by.
Presently he had so far recovered that he could get up and move around.
All of the sailors had not been equally fortunate; indeed, two of them
would never again scour the seas, having taken out papers for that long
voyage the end of which no mortal eye can see.
As each new arrival was carried in the boy would be the first to hasten
forward, but as often his sigh echoed the heavy feeling in his heart as
he discovered a face other than the familiar one he had grown to love.
One of the surfmen who had manned the lifeboat seemed to be particularly
interested in the rescued boy, for he came into the station several
times to ask how he was feeling, and if there was not something more he
wanted.
He was a tall, angular fellow, with a thin but engaging face, and Darry
had heard some of the others call him Abner Peake.
Somehow he found himself drawn toward this man from the start; and it
seemed as though in losing one good friend he had found another to take
the place of the kind captain.
Abner was a native of the shore, and spoke in the peculiar dialect of
the uneducated Southerner; but as a water-dog he knew no superior, and
it is this quality that Uncle Sam looks for when making up his crews to
man the life-saving stations that dot the whole coast from Maine to
Florida.
There was a twang about his voice that reminded Darry of a negro he had
once had for a shipmate on the brigantine; but at the same time his tone
was soft, and inspired confidence.
"Better hev a leetle more coffee, bub?" he said, coming upon Darry as
the latter turned away white-faced from the last body carried in by the
rough men.
"Perhaps it would do me good; I still feel mighty weak; but I'm glad to
be here instead of out there," replied Darry, pointing to where the
white-capped waves were rushing in long lines toward the beach.
"Course yuh be, bub. And we-uns air glad tuh get a chanct tuh pull yuh
outen the water. My old woman'd like tuh set eyes on yuh. Jest the age
our Joe would a-ben if he'd pulled through," and the rough surfman swept
his sleeve across his eyes as he spoke.
The secret of his interest in Darry was out; he had lost a boy of his
own, and his heart was very tender still, so that the sight of this poor
shipwrecked lad brought back his own sorrow keenly.
"You haven't seen anything of the captain, I suppose?" anxiously asked
Darry, wondering if it could possibly be that he had missed sight of his
friend at the time he was lying there unconscious.
Abner Peake shook his head in the negative.
He saw the boy was very eager to learn of the mariner's fate, and well
he knew that with each passing minute the chances of the other surviving
the pounding of the seas became less and less.
It was now not far from dawn.
The hurricane still blew with its old violence, and there was scant hope
of its passing for another twelve hours at least.
All that time those devoted men must be on the watch, ready to man their
surfboat again and take their lives in hand, should another vessel
strike the dangerous reefs that were marked upon the chart as the worst
within a hundred miles of Hatteras.
Sick at heart over the loss of his wise friend and benefactor, Darry
found the interior of the station almost unbearable just then.
He felt as though he must get outside where the elements rioted, and
watch the incoming waves for some sign of the captain.
But this new-found friend declared that it could do no good, since the
beach was already patrolled by those whose keen eyes would discover the
faintest trace of a brave swimmer trying to buffet the cruel waves; he
must remain under cover, so as to escape the possible evil results of
his late experience.
And so Darry had to once more lie down and let the other cover him with
a blanket, a pillow having been placed under his head.
He was utterly exhausted, and it had only been hope and excitement that
had buoyed him up until now.
As he lay there watching the various things that were being done for the
relief of the poor fellows snatched from a watery grave he found his
eyes growing heavy, and occasionally closing in spite of his efforts to
remain awake.
Once he sat up as some men came in bearing another sailor who, alas, had
apparently been dragged out of the sea too late to save the spark of
life; but, upon learning that it was not the one in whose fate he was so
keenly interested, Darry had fallen back again upon his hard pillow.
Soon after things faded from his sight, and he slept the sleep of
weariness, for every muscle in his body was as sore as though it had
been pounded with a club.
It was hours before he awoke.
At first he could not understand just where he was or how he came in
such unfamiliar surroundings; but seeing the kindly face of Abner Peake
bending over, he asked a mute question that the other answered with a
shake of his head.
The captain's body had not as yet come ashore.