LLOYD'S FIRE ON THE BEACH.
Lloyd and Jem were squatted up among the rocks, watching a vessel outto sea.
It was a cold evening,--Christmas eve,--the night coming on fast. Novessel had any business to be out there among the breakers, running instraight on the bar; that is, if any man aboard of her knew what he wasabout.
So Lloyd and Jem said, at least, and they had a right to know, as theyhad been born and bred on that bit of rocky island, and knew every footof the sea within a mile, as well as they knew their own crab-boats anddrag-nets.
The vessel was a small schooner, such as ran down to the island fromtown in summer with flour, and took back crabs and fish.
"But what can she want now?" said Jem.
"She don't know the coast," said Lloyd. "She'll be on the rocks in anhour, if she don't tack."
Jem went to school over on the mainland in winter. There was no needfor him to work so hard, either. The money he made by gunning orfishing he spent for tops and kites. But Lloyd's mother, Mrs. Wells,who lived in a little brown cottage back of the rocks, was not able tokeep him and herself without his help. For two or three years he hadworked as hard as any man on the island. There had been another son ofMrs. Wells, older than Lloyd, a young man called John. But he had beenmate on the _Swallow_, that was wrecked on the Irish coast four yearsago, when all the crew were lost--never heard of again.
So there was nobody left but Lloyd. In winter, when there was nofishing, he whittled crosses and paper-knives out of the cedars,trimming them with lichen, and sent them over to town for sale.
In the evenings he would go out for a run and whiff of fresh air. Heand Jem were cruising about when they spied the schooner.
They sat quite still a good while, watching her beating about, goingout to the open sea, and then turning as often, and heading toward thecoast on which they sat.
"It's plain that she's trying to make this island," said Jem.
"Yes, sir. She'll go to pieces if she tries it," answered Lloyd, takingoff his cap and putting it on again, emphatically. "Yes, sir; she'll goto pieces."
"If there was anybody aboard that knew of Cook's Crack!"
"How could anybody aboard _that_ schooner know of Cook's Crack?" saidLloyd, contemptuously.
"That's so. How could they? Sure enough."
Then the boys blew on their fingers to keep them warm, and hustled incloser under the rocks, clasping their hands about their knees.
Now, to make you town boys understand, I must tell you that theschooners in summer landed at the village, which was a couple of milesfrom the point where the boys were. The shore off from where they satwas full of hidden rocks and sand bars running out under the froth andswirl of the waves, against which no ship could run without having herbottom ripped up.
But through these rocks there was one narrow opening, through which thesea ran clear and deep, making a safe channel to the shore. This wasCook's Crack. Very few of the fishermen knew of it. It was not likely,therefore, that anybody on board of the schooner would be able to pilother through it.
"She's bound to run ashore," said Jem. "What'll we do, Lloyd?"
All the boys asked Lloyd what to do whenever there was any trouble. Hedid not answer at once, being busy considering.
"Go down to the village, Jem, and let some of the men go out with aboat to them!"
"That will be too late to do any good. It will be dark before I reachthe village, and there's no moon. Nobody could go out after night inthat sea. Besides, she's putting in so fast, she'll be on the rocks inhalf an hour."
"Do you go to the village, Jem!" said Lloyd, quietly. He was indreadful doubt himself as to whether he was right. But a captain, heknew, never should let his crew see that he was in doubt; and Lloydknew he must be captain in this case. Jem had legs to run and a tongueto give a message, but he had no head to plan or execute.
"All right!" said Jem, good-naturedly. "I'm off."
When he was gone on the full run, Lloyd stood thinking. There were nomen nearer than the village. Whatever he did, he must do alone. He wastired of acting a man's part and doing a man's work, though the otherboys often envied him. His head and bones ached most of the time, andhe was getting a sober, old, wizened face.
He wished often that he could have a month of downright play andidleness; and no doubt it would have been the very best thing for him.However, now he had to manage all alone.
"I'll go up to supper, or mother will be uneasy," he said at last. Hewould be back in half an hour, and before that he could do nothing. Thewind drove the schooner back, so that she could not reach the rocksunder an hour. Lloyd's eyes were sharper than Jem's.
He did not tell his mother about the schooner. She was a little woman,not strong, and she was easily frightened.
Lloyd tried to keep all trouble from her, as he knew his brother Johnhad done when he was living.
She was waiting for him. "Come, sonny, boy. Here's fish for supper, andgood corn bread."
Lloyd laughed, and washed his hands. He joked and talked all the timehe was eating, though he was terribly anxious about the schooner. Hewould have liked, too, to have some nourishing tea for his mother, or awarmer dress than the thin one she wore. But John had been a hearty,cheerful fellow, keeping up everybody's heart.
"There's no use shoving trouble on to mother," thought Lloyd.
After supper he heaped up the fire, put her chair in the warmestcorner, and brought her knitting all ready. She had a great basket fullof socks and stockings, big and little, ready to send for sale down tothe town.
"Are you going out again, Lloyd?" when he kissed her. "It's a bitternight."
"Down on the beach a bit, mother. You go to bed early. I'll be in allright and safe."
He seemed to have forgotten that it was Christmas eve. His mother hadnot. She looked after him sorrowfully. In old times, when his fatherwas alive, Christmas had been a great holiday for his boys. Afterward,John had made it so for Lloyd. Now, she had not a penny to spare to buyhim a book or a toy, such as other boys had down in the village, eventhe poorest. Even the new shoes which she had hoped to be able to buy,to take the place of his broken boots, she had to give up.
She thought it was but a dull, poor life coming for Lloyd. He was tooyoung to be put to hard, hard work with neither chance for learning norplay. But, as she sat looking in the fire, she suddenly remembered howGod, who held the great, moaning sea and the starless night in thehollow of His hand, held her, too, and her boy.
In the meantime, Lloyd was down on the beach. It was growing dark fast.The schooner was beating about uncertainly, yet evidently determined toreach the island.
Lloyd had made up his mind. There was no way to give her warning. Allhe could do was to guide her, if possible, into the safe channel.
He went down to the landing opposite Cook's Crack, and began making ahalf-circle of bits of rock and sand, to keep off the wind from thefire he meant to make.
Then he began collecting sticks, dried grass, and bits of old wrecks,with which the beach was strewed.
Now, making a bonfire no doubt appears to you, boys, to be only finefun, and you think Lloyd a very lucky fellow to have the chance. But abonfire in the street, on a summer night, or down in a vacant lot, is avery different matter from Lloyd's work, alone, on a December night,with the salt water plashing about his legs, and his breath freezingabout his mouth. Besides, he knew that the lives of the ship's crewdepended on what he did, or left undone. And he was not a man, to besure he was right, but a boy, only thirteen years old.
He heaped up the wood on the light pile of drift, struck a match andput it to it, and in a minute the big flames flashed out all over thedark rocks, and the black, seething plane of the sea, and the wedges ofice that lay along shore. It was very cheery at first. Lloyd gave agrand hurrah! and capered about it. But one does not care to hurrah andcaper alone. He thought the schooner would be in, now, in half an hour.
"They'll make straight for the fire," he said.
But half
an hour, an hour passed, and, strain his eyes as he would, hecould see nothing but inky darkness, and hear nothing but the dullswash, swash of the tide upon the sand. The fire was dying down. Hewent groping up and down the beach for wood, and built it up again.
Two hours. Three.
It was terribly cold. Overhead there was neither moon nor star, only aflat of black fog descending lower and lower. Surely the schooner hadgone. Suddenly he heard a cry.
It was Jem.
"Why, Lloyd! Are you crazy? Do you know this is the coldest night thisyear on the island? My father says so."
"It's not so very cold," said Lloyd, beginning to hop about the fire,and sing. "That schooner's due now, I should say." It heartened him soto hear anybody's voice.
"The schooner's gone hours ago, I dare say. You'd have heard from herbefore now if she meant to run in."
"Did the men go out?"
"No. It was dark when I reached the village. Too late. I say, Lloyd,"clapping his hands to keep warm, "come home. This is nonsense. I amgoing."
Now Jem was older than Lloyd, and though Lloyd was always captain ofthe two, still he was half frozen, and very willing to be tempted.
"_Do_ you think it's nonsense?" pushing the logs with his foot,doubtfully.
"Of course I do. I'm going."
"Don't go yet, Jem," Lloyd begged. It was horribly lonely here in thecold, and dark, and storm.
"I'll wait while I count ten," standing first on one leg and then theother.
Lloyd looked out to sea. Nothing there but blackness and the dreadful,incessant moaning. The fire was nearly out. What was the use of workingall night for people who were away out on their homeward journey,knowing and caring nothing for him? Up at the cottage his mother had anice fire for him; a warm bed.
He began kicking the embers apart. "It does seem like folly," he said.
But on the other hand, what if the schooner were there still, withnothing but his fire to guide her to safety? There was a chance ofthat; the merest chance. But there was one.
"I'll stay, Jem. You can go home."
Jem hesitated a moment, and then started at a quick run for home. Hissteps sounded very dreary, beating along the shore.
Lloyd went to work to collect more wood. He had to grope among the icymass along shore to find his way. The tide was rising and the frozenspray half blinded him. Besides, he was not warmly clothed.
Now I am not going to tell you a painful story, so I will not dwell onthis long night; the longest in Lloyd Wells' life, perhaps, though helived to be an old man.
No sound came to him from the sea to show that the schooner was thereor that his work was of use. But still he did not once give it up.
All night he groped and tugged at the scattered bits of wood, piledthem up, keeping himself in motion, not daring to close his eyes,knowing that if he did he would never waken. All night long.
But at last he stumbled and sank, and did not rise again. The cold andweariness were too much for the lad, if his heart was that of a man.
As he fell he heard a grating sound on the beach--voices--shouts. Wasit the schooner? Had he saved them?
* * * * *
He woke in his mother's bed. She was leaning over him, crying, laughingat once. There was a man beside her with his arm about her waist,stooping over Lloyd, patting his pale little face; a tall, bronzed man;but the eyes and mouth were those of the little photograph framed inblack that hung over his mother's bed.
Lloyd tried to raise his head. "John," he cried, "O, John."
John took him in his strong arms and cried over him, big man as he was.
"Yes, I've got back, Lloyd. I've had a rough time of it these threeyears. But I'm home now, with plenty of money in my pocket, thank God!And I'll take the load off of your shoulders, my boy, and mother's.You're going to have time to live like other boys, Lloyd. And we'llbegin to-morrow, by keeping such a Christmas as was never known. We'llbuy out half the stores in the village."
It was his old way of rattling on, but he could not keep the chokingfrom his throat. Lloyd's mother sat down and held her two boys' handsin hers, and said nothing.
"Were you in the schooner?" asked Lloyd, when he found strength tospeak.
"Yes, your fire saved us, Lloyd."
"I am glad of that. I wonder what Jem will say now," laughed Lloyd.
But his mother was thinking how God had held both her boys in thehollow of His hand that night.
THE END.
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