Part 14 (1/2)

”On'y a bit o' wreck, I think. It looked like a corp at first.”

Soon after this most of the people on board the Gull went below and turned in, leaving the deck in charge of the regular watch, which, on that occasion, consisted of d.i.c.k and his friend Jack Shales. Jerry MacGowl kept them company for a time, being, as he observed, ”sintimentally inclined” that night.

Stanley Hall, attracted by the fineness of the night, also remained on deck a short time after the others were gone.

”Do you often see dead bodies floating past?” he asked of d.i.c.k Moy.

”Not wery often, sir, but occasionally we does. You see, we're so nigh the Goodwin sands, where wrecks take place in the winter months pritty constant, that poor fellers are sometimes washed past us; but they ain't always dead. One night we heard loud cries not far off from us, but it was blowin' a gale, and the night was so dark we could see nothin'. We could no more have launched our boat than we could 'ave gone over the falls o' Niagary without capsizin'. When next the relief comed off, we heard that it was three poor fellers gone past on a piece of wreck.”

”Were they lost?” inquired Stanley.

”No, sir, they warn't all of 'em lost. A brig saw 'em at daylight, but just as they wos being picked up, one wos so exhausted he slipped off the wreck an wos drownded. 'Nother time,” continued Moy, as he paced slowly to and fro, ”we seed a corp float past, and tried to 'ook it with the boat-'ook, but missed it. It wos on its face, and we could see it 'ad on a belt and sheath-knife. There wos a bald spot on the 'ead, and the gulls wos peckin' at it, so we know'd it wos dead--wery likely a long time.”

”There's a tight little craft,” remarked Shales, pointing to a vessel which floated at no great distance off.

”W'ich d'ye mean?” asked d.i.c.k; for there were so many vessels, some at anchor and some floating past with the tide, like phantom s.h.i.+ps, that it was not easy to make out which vessel was referred to; ”the one wi' the shoulder-o'-mutton mains'l?”

”No; that schooner with the raking masts an' topsail?”

”Ah, that's a purty little thing from owld Ireland,” returned Jerry MacGowl. ”I'd know her anywhere by the cut of her jib. Av she would only spaik, she'd let ye hear the brogue.”

”Since ye know her so well, Paddy, p'raps you can tell us what's her cargo?” said Jack Shales.

”Of coorse I can--it's fruit an' timber,” replied Jerry.

”Fruit and timber!” exclaimed Stanley with a laugh; ”I was not aware that such articles were exported from Ireland.”

”Ah, sure they are, yer honour,” replied Jerry. ”No doubt the English, with that low spirit of jealousy that's pecooliar to 'em, would say it was brooms an' taties, but _we_ calls it fruit and timber!”

”After that, Jerry, I think it is time for me to turn in, so I wish you both a good-night, lads.”

”Good-night, sir, good-night,” replied the men, as Stanley descended to his berth, leaving the watch to spin yarns and perambulate the deck until the bright beams of the floating light should be rendered unnecessary by the brighter beams of the rising sun.

CHAPTER TEN.

TREATS OF TENDER SUBJECTS OF A PECULIAR KIND, AND SHOWS HOW BILLY TOWLER GOT INTO Sc.r.a.pES AND OUT OF THEM.

The fact that we know not what a day may bring forth, receives frequent, and sometimes very striking, ill.u.s.tration in the experience of most people. That the day may begin with calm and suns.h.i.+ne, yet end in clouds and tempest--or _vice versa_--is a truism which need not be enforced. Nevertheless, it is a truism which men are none the worse of being reminded of now and then. Poor Billy Towler was very powerfully reminded of it on the day following his night-adventure with the ravens; and his master was taught that the best-laid plans of men, as well as mice, are apt to get disordered, as the sequel will show.

Next morning the look-out on board the Gull lights.h.i.+p reported the Trinity steam-tender in sight, off the mouth of Ramsgate harbour, and the ensign was at once hoisted as an intimation that she had been observed.

This arrangement, by the way, of hoisting a signal on board the floating lights when any of the Trinity yachts chance to heave in sight, is a clever device, whereby the vigilance of light-s.h.i.+p crews is secured, because the time of the appearing of these yachts is irregular, and, therefore, a matter of uncertainty. Every one knows the natural and almost irresistible tendency of the human mind to relax in vigilance when the demand on attention is continual--that the act, by becoming a mere matter of daily routine, loses much of its intensity. The crews of floating lights are, more than most men, required to be perpetually on the alert, because, besides the danger that would threaten innumerable s.h.i.+ps should their vessels drift from their stations, or any part of their management be neglected, there is great danger to themselves of being run into during dark stormy nights or foggy days. Constant vigilance is partly secured, no doubt, by a sense of duty in the men; it is increased by the feeling of personal risk that would result from carelessness; and it is almost perfected by the order for the hoisting of a flag as above referred to.

The superintendent of the district of which Ramsgate is head-quarters, goes out regularly once every month in the tender to effect what is styled ”the relief,”--that is, to change the men, each of whom pa.s.ses two months aboard and one month on sh.o.r.e, while the masters and mates alternately have a month on sh.o.r.e and a month on board. At the same time he puts on board of the four vessels of which he has charge-- namely, the _Goodwin_, the _Gull_, the _South-sandhead_, and the _Varne_ light-s.h.i.+ps,--water, coal, provisions, and oil for the month, and such stores as may be required; returning with the men relieved and the empty casks and cans, etcetera, to Ramsgate harbour. Besides this, the tender is constantly obliged to go out at irregular intervals--it may be even several times in a week--for the purpose of replacing buoys that have been s.h.i.+fted by storms--marking, with small green buoys, the spot where a vessel may have gone down, and become a dangerous obstruction in the ”fair way”--taking up old chains and sinkers, and placing new ones-- painting the buoys--and visiting the North and South Foreland lighthouses, which are also under the district superintendent's care.

On all of these occasions the men on duty in the floating lights are bound to hoist their flag whenever the tender chances to pa.s.s them within sight, on pain of a severe reprimand if the duty be neglected, and something worse if such neglect be of frequent occurrence. In addition to this, some of the Elder Brethren of the Trinity House make periodical visits of inspection to all the floating lights round the coasts of England; and this they do purposely at irregular times, in order, if possible, to catch the guardians of the coast napping; and woe betide ”the watch” on duty if these inspecting Brethren should manage to get pretty close to any light-s.h.i.+p without having received the salute of recognition! Hence the men of the floating lights are kept ever on the alert, and the safety of the navigation, as far as human wisdom can do it, is secured. Hence also, at whatever time any of our floating lights should chance to be visited by strangers, they, like our lighthouses, will invariably be found in perfect working order, and as clean as new pins, except, of course, during periods of general cleaning up or painting.

Begging pardon for this digression, we return to Billy Towler, whose delight with the novelty of his recent experiences was only equalled by his joyous antic.i.p.ations of the stirring sea-life that yet lay before him.