Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 468 — page 2: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

2 a great distance, and a form lithe, graceful and well-developed tor his years. His hair was long, waving, and of chestnut ‘hue, an exact match in color for his expressive eyes, and the fierce wind then blowing waved the locks about his shoulders and added to his picturesque attitude, for he stood leaning upon “ small rifle, each hand resting upon the muz- ale. ; At his feet, which were bare and brown, yet _ shapely, lay a string of game, proofs of his un- erring aim—squirrels, quail, and a duck. He wore a blue woolen shirt, with a black scarf, tied in a sailor knot about the neck, anda pair of duck pants, soiled by his hunt in the for- est, and upon his head was a tarpaulin. He was attentively watching the storm, for the skies were overcast with many storm- clouds, and the sea was wild under the force of the angry wind, and rolling in in huge breakers, broke against the cliff with a force that made it tremble. ** It is a bad blow, and I'll have to sleep in my boat, or walk home, for it’s too rough to at- tempt running along the coast to the cove,” he muttered. A moment after he said: ‘111 walk home, for mother might be anx- ious about me, as there is such a storm on the sea; it’s a long way, but I'll walk it in a couple of hours, I guess, though bare feet are not just what I need for the journey. ‘¢ Ah me! I do wish I could make some money and give mother and father a better name; but I can see no way now, thoughif war broke out I might do better. ‘Tf Thad more money I’d go down to Boston to school, for I wish to learn something and._be- come a great man. ‘But no, I am only a poor fisher lad, and sinee father was crippled I have to work pretty hard for food for us all— Why what is that?” be said suddenly, as he was about to start for home, and his eyes fell upon an object out upon the ocean. ‘‘1t is a boat, as true as I live,” and making a telescope of hi; hand he continued: ‘Tt is a white boat, and there is surely some- body in it—there! as she rises on that wave I can see that there is some one in it, and she is fast coming ashore.” A moment he stood gazing at the boat, and then said hastily: ‘Tf it rounds Bald Head Island, it will come right here and dash against the cliff, and nothing will save the one in it. “Tf it went the other side of Bald Head it would get into smooth water and be beached upon Sandy Point. “J wonder if I have not time tow it in on the other side of Bald Head “Tis a great risk, but I'll try.” So saying he threw his rifle over his shoulder, picked up his game, and ran back along the ridge until he reached a path leading down to the sea-shore, where there was a basin, sheltered by the island he had called Bald Head, Here lay a surf-skiff, one of those stanch but light craft so much used by the rugged fishermen of Maine years ago, and as stiff as a life-boat. Laying aside his rifle, ammunition and game In a rocky nook, the boy sprung into the skiff, hoisted thesail and headed out over the waters toward the pass, between Bald Head Island and a mass of ragged rocks. The island was covered with a stunted growth of pines, and, rising above the sea some twenty feet, formed a good anchorage behind it. It was several hundred feet in length, and in #he center rose a barren rock with a round top, from which it took its name. Running out to the island under full sail, the ‘tom boy there luffed up sharp, and reefed down until the canvas spread was very small. Then he threw his ballast-bag to windward, adding his own weight, and that like an arrow eut from under the lee, into the narrow pass between the island and the reef. Through the wild waters he dashed, his surf- skiff leaping wildly, but he cleared the passage without tacking, and held on out into the ocean, riding the large waves better than he had the chop seas near shore. His face was pale but resolute, and bis keen eyes were sweeping the waters for the boat he chad descried from the cliff. ‘There she is!” he cried, as he discerned if, and instantly he threw his ballast-bag to star- ting put his helm hard down, and went about. He now had the wind abeam, and the surf- skiff lurched low at times, lay well over, and weomed fairly to fy; but the brave boy lay far a to go out and ? q Neptulie EE TE ST a a aT | — -, out to windward, his ballast-bag of sand was | laid upon the gunwale, and he felt that he could reach the drifting boat all right if he could only | then get back into the passage through which he | had come. If he failed, he knew death was certain, for no vessel could stem the rush of waters around the west point of Bald Head Island, which rush- ed in huge seas against the base of the cliff upon which he had been standing when he sighted the boat off upon the waters. But though a mere boy, the brave little fellow seemed to have mastered the knowledge of sea- manship, and howling winds, could he be able to reach | the boat in time to work off again from the dan- ger with it in tow and regain the channel by which he had gone out, It was a race between pluck and death, with the chances in favor of the latter. As he drew near the boat he saw its occupant half rise, wave a hand toward him in a feeble way, and fall back, ‘Tf T can reach the boat before it strikes the surf, I can save him; if not, I must die, too,” said the brave boy, as his little surf-skiff leaped over the storm-swept waters. CHAPTER II. THE FIGHT FOR LIFE. As the fisher lad drew near the drifting boat, he arranged to run to windward of it, and drop the little anchor of his skiff into its bows. Holding the tiller aga nst his knee, he tied the cable to the length he deemed about right, doubled it, and had all ready to cast it into the boat as he swept by. He seemed to understand just what was best to be done and how to do it, He then kept his eye on the one he meant to try and res¢ue, and saw that there was but one occupant, as far as he could discover as his little craft rose on the top of a wave. | The boat was a life-boat from some ship, light | upon the waters, high gunwales, and some six- | teen feet long. | ‘‘She’s about as long as my skiff, and it will be a hard tug to tow her off against this sea and | gale,” he muttered; but though he knew he had | ample time to put about, and thus escape death | himself, he did not do so, for he had resolved to save the one whom he had noticed in the life- boat, He was now within a very short it, and hailed: ‘* Ahoy, the life-boat!” “ Ahoy!” came feebly back, and again the head was raised above the gunwale. “* Are you able to help me a little?” The answer came back in the same feeble voice: ‘*No; I am dying.” | “Tve got todo the best I can, then,” mut- tered the brave boy, and he nerved himself for the task, adding: ‘‘If he could only steer this boat, after I get her in tow, it would help im- mensely.” Another moment and he was almost alongside of ag life-boat, and, seizing the kedge, he called out: ‘‘ Don’t you see where you are?” The head was feebly raised once more, and then the Boy Coaster cast the kedge, and it dropped into the bows of the dying man’s boat. At thesame moment he went up into the wind ro about. hen came the tightening of the cable, the | jerk, the turning around of the bows of the life- boat, and the boy gave a shout at his success, which was mahived by a feeble cry from the oc- cupant of the boat, for the little anchor had caught a good hold. As the life-boat felt the pull upon it, it leaped terribly; but the boy held steadily on, back over his course, well knowing that he had not a mo- ment to lose. One moment the surf-skiff was down in the hollow of the sea and the life-boat far above it, and then,their positions were reversed. Then the skiff climbed up the side of a huge wave, while the life-boat was out of sight beyond one its leader had just gone over. The boy held his tiller firmly, easing his skiff allin his power, holding his sheat-rope in one | hand also, ready to let off, or haul taut, as the case needed, and paying close attention also to ust how he met the seas, and dragged the life- t after him. Then his eyes constantly sought the island, to note the speed at which he was going, and he shuddered as he saw that he was barely mak- ing. headway. aking a point on the cliff and the end of the island as a guide, he did not look at it again for meee, sat tL LLL LLL LLL LLL LL to a — nearly ten minutes, and then he saw that the ob- sted! had disappeared which he had taken asa guide. The one in the life-boat now and then feebly raised his head to note the result, and then dropped back again, as though the effort had | been prostrating. Seeing this the boy called: “We are all right, though its slow work.” And slow work it was, and the boy was not sure about being all right, for the sea was forc- ing him Pager toward the rocky island, against which the waves pounded with terrific and cared little for the huge waves | force. Could he round the point, he would be “all right;” but it was a question as to whether he ee = make it, or be dashed against the rocky shore. ; To cast the life-boat adrift the boy could make it alone, be knew; but he would. pot desert the one he had so imperiled his life to save, and he stuck manfully to his work. Nearer and nearer he drew to the pass between the island and the reef, and nearer and nearer he drew to the ragged shore. ‘¢ Will I make it?” he muttered, and his face was anxious, though yet full of pluck. ‘‘ Another moment will tell whether I can round the island into the channel, or be dashed to pieces on the rocks,” muttered the boy, and the one in the life-boat, as thotigh also realizing the full importance of a minute of time, again raised his head over the gunwale, glanced at the island so dangerously near, at the channel-way,. and then at the brave boy. ‘*You cannot make it, my brave boy, so cut loose and save yourself,” cried the man in the life-boat, his voice hardly audible. ‘‘T will not desert you now, sir! I will make the channel, or go on the rocks with you,” came back defiantly from the brave boy’s lips. Then followed a moment of awful agony, the skiff shot ahead into the channel, the life-boat swung round, as though to go upon the rocks, and for asecond as though it would drag the ' towing craft with her; but the boy hauled his sheet-rope more taut, and ot a laying fright- fully far over, it helped, and the man so nearly lost was hauled away from his danger. Then, as the surf-skiff shot into the channel | before the wind, and swept away toward quiet waters, drawin the life-boat after it, the an- imal spirits of the plucky boy broke forth in one distance of | long, wild shout of triumph at bis grand strug- gle and victory over the gale, the sea, the rocks and what bad seemed at one time to be sure death. CHAPTER III. THE MYSTERIOUS TRIO. Some weeks previous to the scene narrated in the foregoing chapters, a small pleasure-boat was sailing swiftly away from the coast of Eng- land, before a stiff breeze, It was moonlight, and the boat seemed to fairly fly over the waters; while at her helm, aes her destinies, was an old hag, witch- ike in her appearance, Her hair was white, worn loose, and floated about her in tangled masses, as the wind played with it. Her eyes were black as ink, deep-set, fiery and ees while her bronzed face was shriveled and stern, She was dressed in a blood-red gown, wore a black sash about her waist, and a band of silver around her head, upon which was perched in front a stuffed owl. About her neck were strings of beads, human teeth, shells and links of gold, and altogether she was a weird-looking creature, The boat was a handsome one, some three tons measurement, with a small cabin, and sloop rig, Evidently it was the pleasure craft, or yacht, from some home of wealth along the coast. The woman was not the only occupant, how- ever, for just forward of the cabin sat two per- ns. One of them was a young man of twenty-four or five, with a handsome, voble face, as the moonlight revealed it. He was well-dressed, and a gentleman. His companion by his side was a maiden of eighteen, witha darkly-bronzed face, black hair, and possessing a beauty that was radiant. She was dressed neatly in black, wore a sun- hat, and looked toward the man at her side as though her whole soul was wrapped up in him. ‘‘T seoa sail dead ahead, good Mother grag A said the young man, who had a spygiass in his hand, with which he often sco the sea. “Tt is one of the American clipper ships, I guess; just what we wish,” was the answer of the woman at the helm, her voice seeming harsh and stern.