"That's an Aberdeen steamer," said the captain; "would you like to be
put on board, Gaff?"
Gaff said that he would, as it was probable he should reach home sooner
by her than if he were to accompany the "Blazer" to London.
Accordingly the steamer was signalled, and Gaff and Billy were put on
board.
Scarcely had this been done when a stiff easterly gale set in, and
before morning a heavy sea was running, before which the steamer rolled
heavily.
It seemed as if Gaff and his son were doomed to be drowned, for disaster
by sea followed them wherever they went. At last, however, the morning
broke bright and clear, and the wind abated, though the sea was still
running very high.
That forenoon the steamer sighted the coast of Aberdeenshire and the
tall column of the Girdle-ness lighthouse came into view.
"We'll be home soon now, daddy," said Billy, as they walked the
quarter-deck together.
"P'raps, but we an't there yet," said Gaff; "an' I never count my
chickens before they are hatched."
Gaff and his son no longer wore the rough skin garments which had
clothed them while in their island-home. They had been rigged out in
man-o'-war habiliments by the kindness of those on board the "Blazer,"
but they had steadily refused to permit the barber to operate upon them,
and still wore their locks shaggy and long. They were, perhaps, as fine
specimens of a hardy and powerful man and boy as could be found
anywhere; for Gaff, although past his prime, was not a whit less
vigorous and athletic than he had been in days of yore, though a little
less supple; and Billy, owing probably to his hardy and healthy style of
life on the island, was unusually broad and manly for his age.
In a few hours the steamer made the harbour of Aberdeen. The
passengers, who had been very busy all the morning in packing up the
things they had used on the voyage, were now assembled in groups along
the side of the vessel trying to make out objects on shore. The captain
stood on the bridge between the paddles giving directions to the
steersman, and everything gave promise of a speedy and happy landing.
A heavy sea, however, was still running, filling the bay to the
northward of the harbour with foaming breakers, while the pier-head was
engulfed in clouds of spray as each billow rolled past it and fell in
thunder on the bar.
Every one on board looked on with interest; but on that clear bright
day, no one thought of danger.
Just as the steamer came close up to the bar, a heavy sea struck her on
the port bow, driving her a little too near the pier. The captain
shouted to the steersman, but the man either did not understand him, or
did not act with sufficient promptitude, for the next wave sent them
crashing on the portion of bulwark or breakwater that juts out from the
head of the Aberdeen pier.
The consternation and confusion that ensued is beyond description. The
women screamed, the men shouted. The captain ordered the engines to be
reversed, and this was done at once, but the force of the next billow
was too great. It lifted the vessel up and let her fall heavily again
on the pier, where she lay hard and fast with her back broken. Another
wave lifted her; the two halves of the vessel separated and sank on each
side of the pier, leaving the passengers and crew in the waves.
It would be difficult to say whether the shouts of the multitudes who
stood on the pier-head or the shrieks of the wrecked people were
loudest.
Instantly every exertion was made to save them. Boats were launched,
ropes were thrown, buoys were cast into the sea, and many of the people
were saved, but many were also drowned before assistance reached them.
Gaff and Billy, being expert swimmers, seized the persons nearest to
them, and took them safe to the pier, where ready hands were stretched
out to grasp them. The former saved a lady, the latter a little girl.
Then they plunged back into the sea, and saved two more lives.
While this was going on, several of the passengers were swept round into
the bay, where they would have perished but for the prompt and able
assistance of a man who was known as "The Rescue."
This man was so named because he undertook the dangerous and trying duty
of watching the bathers during the summer months, and rescuing such of
them as got out of their depth.
In this arduous work that heroic man had, during five years of service,
saved with his own hands between thirty and forty lives--in some cases
with a boat, but in most cases by simply swimming out and seizing the
drowning persons, and without using corks or floats of any kind. When
asked why he did not use a lifebelt, he said that it would only impede
his motions and prevent him from diving, which he was often compelled to
do when the drowning persons had sunk. His usual method was to swim off
when there was a shout for help, and make for the struggling man or boy
so as to come up behind him. He then seized him under the armpits, and
thus effectually prevented him from grasping him in any way. Drawing
him gently upon his breast while he lay over on his back, he then made
for the shore, swimming on his back and using his feet only.
On the present occasion the "Rescue" saved four or five of those who
were washed into the bay, and then ran out to the end of the pier to
render assistance there.
In height he was not above the middle size, but he had a very muscular
and well-knit frame. Just as he drew near, Gaff, who was bearing a
little boy through the surf in his arms, was hurled against the stones
of the pier, rendered insensible, and sucked back by the retreating
water. Billy was farther out at the moment, and did not see what had
occurred.
The shout of alarm from those in front of the crowd was almost
immediately answered by a cry from behind of:
"The Rescue! The Rescue! This way!"
Without checking his speed, the Rescue sprang into the sea, caught Gaff
by the hair of the head, and was next moment hurled on the breakwater.
He was prepared for the shock, and caught the hands of two men, who,
with ropes round their waists, waded into the water as far as they
dared. Billy was washed ashore at the same moment, almost in a state of
helpless exhaustion, and all were hauled out of the sea amid the wild
cheers of the excited crowd.
Gaff, being laid under the lee of the pier-wall, soon recovered, and
then he and Billy were led tenderly up to the town, where they were
kindly entertained and cared for during several days, by the hospitable
Rescue, in whose house they lodged during their stay in the fair city of
Aberdeen.
Most of the cattle that happened to be on board the ill-fated steamer
were saved, and among them was Squeaky. Shrieky, too, managed to
escape. His cage having been smashed in the general confusion he was
set free, and flew wildly towards the pier, where he took refuge in the
bosom of a sailor, who took care of him. Ultimately he and his
companion in distress were restored to their friends.