A week of fine weather caused Ruby Brand to fall as deeply in love with
the work at the Bell Rock as his comrades had done.
There was an amount of vigour and excitement about it, with a dash of
romance, which quite harmonised with his character. At first he had
imagined it would be monotonous and dull, but in experience he found it
to be quite the reverse.
Although there was uniformity in the general character of the work,
there was constant variety in many of the details; and the spot on which
it was carried on was so circumscribed, and so utterly cut off from all
the world, that the minds of those employed became concentrated on it in
a way that aroused strong interest in every trifling object.
There was not a ledge or a point of rock that rose ever so little above
the general level, that was not named after, and intimately associated
with, some event or individual. Every mass of seaweed became a familiar
object. The various little pools and inlets, many of them not larger
than a dining-room table, received high-sounding and dignified names--
such as _Port Stevenson, Port Erskine, Taylor's Track, Neill's Pool_,
etcetera. Of course the fish that frequented the pools, and the
shell-fish that covered the rock, became subjects of much attention,
and, in some cases, of earnest study.
Robinson Crusoe himself did not pry into the secrets of his island-home
with half the amount of assiduity that was displayed at this time by
many of the men who built the Bell Rock Lighthouse. The very fact that
their time was limited acted as a spur, so that on landing each tide
they rushed hastily to the work, and the amateur studies in natural
history to which we have referred were prosecuted hurriedly during brief
intervals of rest. Afterwards, when the beacon house was erected, and
the men dwelt upon the rock, these studies (if we may not call them
amusements) were continued more leisurely, but with unabated ardour, and
furnished no small amount of comparatively thrilling incident at times.
One fine morning, just after the men had landed, and before they had
commenced work, "Long Forsyth", as his comrades styled him, went to a
pool to gather a little dulse, of which there was a great deal on the
rock, and which was found to be exceedingly grateful to the palates of
those who were afflicted with sea-sickness.
He stooped over the pool to pluck a morsel, but paused on observing a
beautiful fish, about a foot long, swimming in the clear water, as
quietly as if it knew the man to be a friend, and were not in the least
degree afraid of him.
Forsyth was an excitable man, and also studious in his character. He at
once became agitated and desirous of possessing that fish, for it was
extremely brilliant and variegated in colour. He looked round for
something to throw at it, but there was nothing within reach. He sighed
for a hook and line, but as sighs never yet produced hooks or lines he
did not get one.
Just then the fish swam slowly to the side of the pool on which the man
kneeled, as if it actually desired more intimate acquaintance. Forsyth
lay flat down and reached out his hand toward it; but it appeared to
think this rather too familiar, for it swam slowly beyond his reach, and
the man drew back. Again it came to the side, much nearer. Once more
Forsyth lay down, reaching over the pool as far as he could, and
insinuating his hand into the water. But the fish moved off a little.
Thus they coquetted with each other for some time, until the man's
comrades began to observe that he was "after something."
"Wot's he a-doin' of?" said one.
"Reachin' over the pool, I think," replied another.
"Ye don't mean he's sick?" cried a third.
The smile with which this was received was changed into a roar of
laughter as poor Forsyth's long legs were seen to tip up into the air,
and the whole man to disappear beneath the water. He had overbalanced
himself in his frantic efforts to reach the fish, and was now making its
acquaintance in its native element!
The pool, although small in extent, was so deep that Forsyth, long
though he was, did not find bottom. Moreover, he could not swim, so
that when he reached the surface he came up with his hands first and his
ten fingers spread out helplessly; next appeared his shaggy head, with
the eyes wide open, and the mouth tight shut. The moment the latter was
uncovered, however, he uttered a tremendous yell, which was choked in
the bud with a gurgle as he sank again.
The men rushed to the rescue at once, and the next time Forsyth rose he
was seized by the hair of the head and dragged out of the pool.
It has not been recorded what became of the fish that caused such an
alarming accident, but we may reasonably conclude that it sought refuge
in the ocean cavelets at the bottom of that miniature sea, for Long
Forsyth was so very large, and created such a terrible disturbance
therein, that no fish exposed to the full violence of the storm could
have survived it!
"Wot a hobject!" exclaimed Joe Dumsby, a short, thickset, little
Englishman, who, having been born and partly bred in London, was rather
addicted to what is styled chaffing. "Was you arter a mermaid,
shipmate?"
"Av coorse he was," observed Ned O'Connor, an Irishman, who was
afflicted with the belief that he was rather a witty fellow, "av coorse
he was, an' a merry-maid she must have bin to see a human spider like
him kickin' up such a dust in the say."
"He's like a drooned rotten," observed John Watt; "tak' aff yer claes,
man, an' wring them dry."
"Let the poor fellow be, and get along with you," cried Peter Logan, the
foreman of the works, who came up at that moment.
With a few parting remarks and cautions, such as,--"You'd better bring a
dry suit to the rock next time, lad," "Take care the crabs don't make
off with you, boy," "and don't be gettin' too fond o' the girls in the
sea," etcetera, the men scattered themselves over the rock and began
their work in earnest, while Forsyth, who took the chaffing in good
part, stripped himself and wrung the water out of his garments.
Episodes of this kind were not unfrequent, and they usually furnished
food for conversation at the time, and for frequent allusion afterwards.
But it was not all sunshine and play, by any means.
Not long after Ruby joined, the fine weather broke up, and a succession
of stiff breezes, with occasional storms, more or lees violent, set in.
Landing on the rock became a matter of extreme difficulty, and the short
period of work was often curtailed to little more than an hour each
tide.
The rolling of the _Pharos_ lightship, too, became so great that
sea-sickness prevailed to a large extent among the landsmen. One good
arose out of this evil, however. Landing on the Bell Rock invariably
cured the sickness for a time, and the sea-sick men had such an intense
longing to eat of the dulse that grew there, that they were always ready
and anxious to get into the boats when there was the slightest
possibility of landing.
Getting into the boats, by the way, in a heavy sea, when the lightship
was rolling violently, was no easy matter. When the fine weather first
broke up, it happened about midnight, and the change commenced with a
stiff breeze from the eastward. The sea rose at once, and, long before
daybreak, the _Pharos_ was rolling heavily in the swell, and straining
violently at the strong cable which held her to her moorings.
About dawn Mr Stevenson came on deck. He could not sleep, because he
felt that on his shoulders rested not only the responsibility of
carrying this gigantic work to a satisfactory conclusion, but also, to a
large extent, the responsibility of watching over and guarding the lives
of the people employed in the service.
"Shall we be able to land to-day, Mr Wilson?" he said, accosting the
master of the _Pharos_, who has been already introduced as the
landing-master.
"I think so; the barometer has not fallen much; and even although the
wind should increase a little, we can effect a landing by the Fair Way,
at Hope's Wharf."
"Very well, I leave it entirely in your hands; you understand the
weather better than I do, but remember that I do not wish my men to run
unnecessary or foolish risk."
It may be as well to mention here that a small but exceedingly strong
tramway of iron-grating had been fixed to the Bell Rock at an elevation
varying from two to four feet above it, and encircling the site of the
building. This tramway or railroad was narrow, not quite three feet in
width; and small trucks were fitted to it, so that the heavy stones of
the building might be easily run to the exact spot they were to occupy.
From this circular rail several branch lines extended to the different
creeks where the boats deposited the stones. These lines, although only
a few yards in length, were dignified with names--as, _Kennedy's Reach,
Logan's Reach, Watt's Reach_, and _Slight's Reach_. The ends of them,
where they dipped into the sea, were named _Hope's Wharf, Duff's Wharf,
Rae's Wharf_, etcetera; and these wharves had been fixed on different
sides of the rock, so that, whatever wind should blow, there would
always be one of them on the lee-side available for the carrying on of
the work.
_Hope's Wharf_ was connected with _Port Erskine_, a pool about twenty
yards long by three or four wide, and communicated with the side of the
lighthouse by _Watt's Reach_, a distance of about thirty yards.
About eight o'clock that morning the bell rang for breakfast. Such of
the men as were not already up began to get out of their berths and
hammocks.
To Ruby the scene that followed was very amusing. Hitherto all had been
calm and sunshine. The work, although severe while they were engaged,
had been of short duration, and the greater part of each day had been
afterwards spent in light work, or in amusement. The summons to meals
had always been a joyful one, and the appetites of the men were keenly
set.
Now, all this was changed. The ruddy faces of the men were become
green, blue, yellow, and purple, according to temperament, but few were
flesh-coloured or red. When the bell rang there was a universal groan
below, and half a dozen ghostlike individuals raised themselves on their
elbows and looked up with expressions of the deepest woe at the dim
skylight. Most of them speedily fell back again, however, partly owing
to a heavy lurch of the vessel, and partly owing to indescribable
sensations within.
"Blowin'!" groaned one, as if that single word comprehended the essence
of all the miseries that seafaring man is heir to.
"O dear!" sighed another, "why did I ever come here?"
"Och! murder, I'm dyin', send for the praist an' me mother!" cried
O'Connor, as he fell flat down on his back and pressed both hands
tightly over his mouth.
The poor blacksmith lost control over himself at this point and--found
partial relief!
The act tended to relieve others. Most of the men were much too
miserable to make any remark at all, a few of them had not heart even to
groan; but five or six sat up on the edge of their beds, with a weak
intention of turning out. They sat there swaying about with the motions
of the ship in helpless indecision, until a tremendous roll sent them
flying, with unexpected violence, against the starboard bulkheads.
"Come, lads," cried Ruby, leaping out of his hammock, "there's nothing
like a vigorous jump to put sea-sickness to flight."
"Humbug!" ejaculated Bremner, who owned a little black dog, which lay at
that time on the pillow gazing into his master's green face, with
wondering sympathy.
"Ah, Ruby," groaned the smith, "it's all very well for a sea-dog like
you that's used to it, but--"
James Dove stopped short abruptly. It is not necessary to explain the
cause of his abrupt silence. Suffice it to say that he did not
thereafter attempt to finish that sentence.
"Steward!" roared Joe Dumsby.
"Ay, ay, shipmate, what's up?" cried the steward, who chanced to pass
the door of the men's sleeping-place, with a large dish of boiled salt
pork, at the moment.
"Wot's up?" echoed Dumsby. "Everythink that ever went into me since I
was a hinfant must be `up' by this time. I say, is there any chance of
gettin' on the rock to-day?"
"O yes. I heard the cap'n say it would be quite easy, and they seem to
be makin' ready now, so if any of 'ee want breakfast you'd better turn
out."
This speech acted like a shock of electricity on the wretched men. In a
moment every bed was empty, and the place was in a bustle of confusion
as they hurriedly threw on their clothes.
Some of them even began to think of the possibility of venturing on a
hard biscuit and a cup of tea, but a gust of wind sent the fumes of the
salt pork into the cabin at the moment, and the mere idea of food filled
them with unutterable loathing.
Presently the bell rang again. This was the signal for the men to
muster, the boats being ready alongside. The whole crew at once rushed
on deck, some of them thrusting biscuits into their pockets as they
passed the steward's quarters. Not a man was absent on the roll being
called. Even the smith crawled on deck, and had spirit enough left to
advise Ruby not to forget the bellows; to which Ruby replied by
recommending his comrade not to forget the matches.
Then the operation of embarking began.
The sea at the time was running pretty high, with little white flecks of
foam tipping the crests of the deep blue waves. The eastern sky was
dark and threatening. The black ridges of the Bell Rock were visible
only at times in the midst of the sea of foam that surrounded them.
Anyone ignorant of their nature would have deemed a landing absolutely
impossible.
The _Pharos_, as we have said, was rolling violently from side to side,
insomuch that those who were in the boats had the greatest difficulty in
preventing them from being stove in; and getting into these boats had
much the appearance of an exceedingly difficult and dangerous feat,
which active and reckless men might undertake for a wager.
But custom reconciles one to almost anything. Most of the men had had
sufficient experience by that time to embark with comparative ease.
Nevertheless, there were a few whose physical conformation was such that
they could do nothing neatly.
Poor Forsyth was one of these. Each man had to stand on the edge of the
lightship, outside the bulwarks, holding on to a rope, ready to let go
and drop into the boat when it rose up and met the vessel's roll. In
order to facilitate the operation a boat went to either side of the
ship, so that two men were always in the act of watching for an
opportunity to spring. The active men usually got in at the first or
second attempt, but others missed frequently, and were of course
"chaffed" by their more fortunate comrades.
The embarking of "Long Forsyth" was always a scene in rough weather, and
many a narrow escape had he of a ducking. On the present occasion,
being very sick, he was more awkward than usual.
"Now, Longlegs," cried the men who held the boat on the starboard side,
as Forsyth got over the side and stood ready to spring, "let's see how
good you'll be to-day."
He was observed by Joe Dumsby, who had just succeeded in getting into
the boat on the port side of the ship, and who always took a lively
interest in his tall comrade's proceedings.
"Hallo! is that the spider?" he cried, as the ship rolled towards him,
and the said spider appeared towering high on the opposite bulwark,
sharply depicted against the grey sky.
It was unfortunate for Joe that he chanced to be on the opposite side
from his friend, for at each roll the vessel necessarily intervened and
hid him for a few seconds from view.
Next roll, Forsyth did not dare to leap, although the gunwale of the
boat came within a foot of him. He hesitated, the moment was lost, the
boat sank into the hollow of the sea, and the man was swung high into
the air, where he was again caught sight of by Dumsby.
"What! are you there yet?" he cried. "You must be fond of a swing--"
Before he could say more the ship rolled over to the other side, and
Forsyth was hid from view.
"Now, lad, now! now!" shouted the boat's crew, as the unhappy man once
more neared the gunwale.
Forsyth hesitated. Suddenly he became desperate and sprang, but the
hesitation gave him a much higher fall than he would otherwise have had;
it caused him also to leap wildly in a sprawling manner, so that he came
down on the shoulders of his comrades "all of a lump". Fortunately they
were prepared for something of the sort, so that no damage was done.
When the boats were at last filled they pushed off and rowed towards the
rock. On approaching it the men were cautioned to pull steadily by Mr
Stevenson, who steered the leading boat.
It was a standing order in the landing department that every man should
use his greatest exertions in giving to the boats sufficient velocity to
preserve their steerage way in entering the respective creeks at the
rock, that the contending seas might not overpower them at places where
the free use of the oars could not be had on account of the surrounding
rocks or the masses of seaweed with which the water was everywhere
encumbered at low tide. This order had been thoroughly impressed upon
the men, as carelessness or inattention to it might have proved fatal to
all on board.
As the leading boat entered the fairway, its steersman saw that more
than ordinary caution would be necessary; for the great green billows
that thundered to windward of the rock came sweeping down on either side
of it, and met on the lee-side, where they swept onward with
considerable, though much abated force.
"Mind your oars, lads; pull steady," said Mr Stevenson, as they began
to get amongst the seaweed.
The caution was unnecessary as far as the old hands were concerned; but
two of the men happened to be new hands, who had come off with Ruby, and
did not fully appreciate the necessity of strict obedience. One of
these, sitting at the bow-oar, looked over his shoulder, and saw a heavy
sea rolling towards the boat, and inadvertently expressed some fear.
The other man, on hearing this, glanced round, and in doing so missed a
stroke of his oar. Such a preponderance was thus given to the rowers on
the opposite side, that when the wave struck the boat, it caught her on
the side instead of the bow, and hurled her upon a ledge of shelving
rocks, where the water left her. Having been _canted_ to seaward, the
next billow completely filled her, and, of course, drenched the crew.
Instantly Ruby Brand and one or two of the most active men leaped out,
and, putting forth all their strength, turned the boat round so as to
meet the succeeding sea with its bow first. Then, after making
considerable efforts, they pushed her off into deep water, and finally
made the landing-place. The other boat could render no assistance; but,
indeed, the whole thing was the work of a few minutes.
As the boats could not conveniently leave the rock till flood-tide, all
hands set to work with unwonted energy in order to keep themselves warm,
not, however, before they ate heartily of their favourite dulse--the
blacksmith being conspicuous for the voracious manner in which he
devoured it.
Soon the bellows were set up; the fire was kindled, and the ring of the
anvil heard; but poor Dove and Ruby had little pleasure in their work
that day; for the wind blew the smoke and sparks about their faces, and
occasionally a higher wave than ordinary sent the spray flying round
them, to the detriment of their fire. Nevertheless they plied the
hammer and bellows unceasingly.
The other men went about their work with similar disregard of the fury
of the elements and the wet condition of their garments.