Chapter V: From the “amazonia.”

Benny was astir very early next morning, eager to show the crew of the station that he appreciated to the utmost their generosity in thus giving him a home, and when the men came down to breakfast the cook declared that the boy had performed considerably more than half the work of preparing the meal.

“He’s a handy lad around a kitchen, an’ I’m thinkin’ we’ll be gettin’ the best of the bargain in adoptin’ him, providin’ he holds out as he’s begun,” the cook said confidentially to Sam Hardy, and the latter replied emphatically:

“You mark my words, cookee; he ain’t the kind of a lad who wears out quickly. I’m countin’ on his growin’ better every day, an’ before next winter we’ll make a surfman of him.”

“Now don’t take too many chances, Sam. That little shaver ain’t of the right build to knock around in rough water with the likes of you, an’ there’s too much danger in it for him.”

“I don’t agree with you there, cookee. He’s spry as a kitten, an’ with grit enough to do anything another can.”

“I’ll admit he’d make a try for it; but I don’t want to see him pushed too far.”

Benny’s entrance put an end to the conversation for the time being, and following him, as a matter of course, was Fluff C. Foster, who had become sufficiently well acquainted with the men to greet each in turn by sitting up and barking shrilly as he held out one paw.

Every man shook hands with the little fellow, after which he leaped up into the chair he had occupied the day previous.

“Knows his place like a little gentleman,” Joe Cushing cried in a tone of admiration as he stroked the dog’s silken hair, and Benny said apprehensively:

“I’m almost afraid Fluff will get so much petting that he’ll forget his good manners. This very morning he acted as if the whole station belonged to him.”

“What did he do, Benny?” Keeper Downey asked with a laugh.

“He was determined to walk straight out of doors, even though the big dog was sitting there waiting to teach him better manners.”

“Hasn’t he been out yet?”

“Oh, yes, sir. I carried him down by the shore where he could run around while I watched the other dog.”

“We must introduce him to Maje after breakfast,” Sam Hardy said, as he slyly gave Fluff a bit of meat, and laughed until the tears came into his eyes as he watched the little fellow trying to eat it without betraying the fact to Benny. “Fluff C. Foster has rights around this station as well as Maje, an’ they must be respected.”

“Don’t let the introduction take too long,” Keeper Downey said warningly. “It is beach-apparatus drill day, and too much time must not be wasted, because I’m counting on getting the boats out to have a look at what is left of the----”

He ceased speaking very suddenly as his gaze rested on Benny; but the crew understood that it was the keeper’s purpose to overhaul such portions of the _Amazonia_ as yet remained upon the rocks, although it was hardly probable anything of value would be found.

After breakfast the cook would have excused Benny from the task of washing dishes, so eager were the men to witness the first meeting of the dogs; but the new member of the crew begged permission to perform his regular duties before indulging in what was very like play.

Not until the kitchen was put in proper order did Benny consider that he was at liberty to go out of doors, even though all the men, save the keeper himself, insisted that there was no good reason why he should not take advantage of the cook’s proposition.

Then, with Fluff under his arm, he went out back of the station buildings, where, in a spot sheltered from the wind, the crew was impatiently awaiting his arrival.

Maje was present, appearing calmly indifferent to the unusual amount of interest suddenly displayed in him, but he pricked up his ears ominously on seeing the white-haired visitor.

“Do you think there’s any danger he’ll hurt Fluff?” Benny asked solicitously.

“Don’t worry about that part of it,” Sam Hardy replied confidently. “Maje knows as well as we do that it’s his duty to be polite to strangers, an’ if he shows signs of forgettin’ it, we’ll give him a lesson that won’t soon be forgot.”

“Please don’t whip him, for then he’d always remember that Fluff got him into trouble, an’ never would be friendly.”

“Let young Foster down, an’ I’ll look after Maje,” Joe Cushing said as he grasped the big dog’s collar.

There was a look of anxiety on Benny’s face as he gave Fluff his freedom, and saw the little fellow walk directly up to Maje in the most reckless fashion.

The big dog condescended to sniff at the impudent visitor, and then he turned his head away, as if to say that such small game was entirely beneath his notice. Nor was it possible to persuade him into paying any further attention to the guest, and after several fruitless efforts Joe Cushing said with just a shade of disappointment in his tone:

“Your introduction hasn’t turned out much of an affair after all, Sam. I allowed we might see some sport.”

“I reckon Maje has seen Fluff too often, for I’ve caught him looking in when the doors were open. Most likely he’s made up his mind that young Foster has come to stay, an’ don’t intend to pay any attention to him. You can let your dog have the run of the station from this out Benny.”

It did really seem that there was no reason to fear Maje might be tempted to do mischief, and Benny turned to go into the building, for the lamps and lanterns were yet to be trimmed.

The men arose to attend to the varied duties of the day, and for an instant the attention of all was diverted from the animals.

It was as if Maje had been waiting for just such an opportunity. In a twinkling, and with an agility that one would hardly have given him credit for, he seized Fluff by the neck, tossing him like a ball several feet in the air.

This done, he walked away quickly, evidently knowing what would be the result if he lingered there many seconds.

Fluff howled dismally while he was yet in the air, and, once on his feet again, ran to Benny for protection, grumbling and whimpering as if making complaint against such uncourteous treatment.

Sam Hardy and Joe Cushing turned instantly to pursue Maje; but Benny, holding Fluff tightly in his arms, begged of them not to punish the big dog.

“Of course he’s jealous, an’ it’ll only make him worse if you whip him. Please let him alone; I’m certain Fluff isn’t hurt any.”

“He howled as if his throat was cut,” Sam said laughingly, as he relinquished the pursuit in accordance with Benny’s request, and Joe Cushing set about examining Fluff.

“He hasn’t got so much as a scratch,” was the report. “I reckon the worst that came to him was a big scare, an’ I don’t wonder at his bein’ a bit afraid after such a rough handling.”

“It’ll teach him to keep out of Maje’s way, and perhaps it’s a good thing, for he always was too inquisitive and impudent,” Benny replied, but he took good care his pet should not receive another lesson that forenoon, for he set his dog in a chair, sternly commanding him to remain there until further orders.

The cook was determined his assistant should have ample opportunity of witnessing the beach-apparatus drill, and as soon as the men had taken their stations he insisted upon Benny’s going into the boat-room, where everything was in readiness.

The beach-wagon is a two-wheeled vehicle not unlike a huge push-cart, and on it are loaded all the implements necessary for sending out to a wreck and hauling the distressed mariners ashore.

Both the boy and the dog appeared to be deeply interested when the wagon was drawn out on the level ground in the rear of the station, where was erected an imitation of a ship’s mast. A short distance from this spar the wagon was brought to a standstill, and out of it taken a small cannon. The crew loaded the weapon with powder and a missile to which was attached a thin line that had been wound on pegs in a wooden case known as a faking-box, in such fashion that it would unwind without resistance or snarling.

The cannon was aimed at the imitation mast, and discharged, the shot carrying the line directly across the top, where was a man standing to represent a mariner in distress.

The supposititious shipwrecked sailor drew in on the thin line as if working for life, and soon brought over the top a stouter rope, sufficient to sustain the weight of a human being.

When this had been made fast both on the spar and near the cart, the man was drawn down exactly as one would be pulled ashore from a wreck.

The work had been performed exactly as if human lives were really in danger, and Benny received his first lesson in life-saving, but not his last, for he soon had ample opportunity of seeing the crew work when it appeared as if both they and those whom they sought to save, would be swept into eternity by the angry waters.

After the apparatus had been repacked in the wagon, the casting-line carefully rewound on the pegs that it might be in perfect order when it should again be needed, and orders were given to make ready with the boat, Benny returned to the kitchen, where the cook was already at work preparing dinner.

“You’ll soon get used to that sort of thing, for it’s pretty much all drill out here, except when the weather is bad.”

“I should think they’d soon know it so well that there wouldn’t be any need of doing so much work,” Benny replied, as he set about paring the potatoes.

“They do,” the cook said with a laugh; “but just read these ’ere rules and regulations on ‘Drill and Exercise,’ an’ you’ll see that men at life-saving stations ain’t allowed to spend very much idle time. All that’s set down there is to be gone through with every day, in addition to patrolling the shore, which, as you have seen already, ain’t child’s play. Not that I’m grumblin’ about the work, for it’s well the boys are kept out of idleness; but this will show how hard they’ve got to work.”

The cook handed Benny a thin, black-covered book bearing the title _Revised Regulations_, and on the page exposed to view the lad read the lines given below:

“168. The following weekly routine of drill, etc., will be observed during the first month of the active season at all regularly manned stations in the Service:

“_Monday._--Practice with beach-apparatus and overhaul and examine all apparatus and gear.

“_Tuesday._--Practice with surf and life-boat.

“_Wednesday._--Practice with signals.

“_Thursday._--Practice with beach-apparatus.

“_Friday._--Practice resuscitation.

“_Saturday._--Clean house.

“After the first month the practice with beach-apparatus on Monday may be omitted.

“169. Whenever the regular practice is prevented by wreck duty, stormy weather, or high surf, it must take place the first opportunity thereafter. Whenever practice is so prevented, the fact must be entered upon the journal, with full particulars of the cause.

“170. No wilful neglect on the part of the keepers to practice their crews, as directed in the foregoing routine, will be tolerated, and the officers of the district are required to permit none.

“171. By practice with the beach-apparatus is meant the mustering of the crew, the recital by each member of his particular duty, and the rigging of the gear over a distance of seventy-five yards from sand-anchor to wreck-pole, according to the method set forth in the beach-apparatus drill. Powder must be used in every case, and the practice, so far as practicable, be precisely the same as at a wreck, using the apparatus upon the carriage, excepting the long whip. If necessary, to preserve the hawser, a coil of rope may be taken to the practice ground, and placed at the rear of the carriage, and used in its stead. If a practising shot-line is used, it must be removed from pins, and fired from the box precisely as in actual service. The use of powder will be dispensed with when the supply on hand is reduced to three pounds, at which time the district superintendent or resident assistant inspector will be notified.

“172. Boat practice will consist in launching and landing through the surf, and at least one half-hour’s exercise of the men in handling their oars, as directed in the prescribed boat-drill. Going off and landing through the surf will not be sufficient to enter upon the journal as practice.

“173. Practice of resuscitation will consist in each member of the crew repeating the rules, as hereinafter provided, using the words of the book, and afterwards illustrating them by manipulations upon the succeeding member of the crew. Thus, the keeper will work upon Surfman No. 1, No. 1 upon No. 2, etc., and No. 7 upon the keeper. At the close of this exercise the keeper will open the medicine-chest, and question each man upon the uses of the remedies contained therein.

“174. Practice with the International Code Signals will consist in questions by the keeper to each member of the crew upon the colors of the different flags, the definitions of the two-, three-, and four-flag hoists and the distinguishing flag or pennant of each, the part of the code-book necessary to turn to when reading and when making a signal, etc., and in actual conversation or communication by means of the miniature signals provided for each station.

“175. In fine weather signals and books may be borrowed for one day from the adjacent station, and by erecting a temporary pole, the crew practised in the use of flags, which will fix the method of their use in the mind more effectively than any other practice.

“176. No departure from the prescribed drill for the use of the beach-apparatus in any of its details will be made by district superintendents or other officers without the sanction of the General Superintendent, previously obtained.”

Benny read all this carefully, as if trying to fix the whole upon his memory, and then asked:

“What is the ‘active season’?”

“That’s when we begin work in the fall. You must know that all the crew don’t stay here during the summer. The active season is from September 1st to May 1st; but the keeper holds on the year round.”

“Are you a surfman?” Benny asked after a pause.

“No, my son, I’m only the cook, and hired by the men, instead of the Government, so you see I don’t come in for all these long hours. My work is no harder in stormy weather, while then it is that every other man is on duty all the time. I have seen this same crew worked forty hours on a stretch, wet to the skin and half frozen, with never a single word of complaint. They are just putting off in the surf-boat, and I reckon it would be worth your while to watch them, Benny. We’ve got the dinner so far along that there’s nothing to be done for a spell, so you and Fluff C. Foster had best stay out in the open air while you can.”

The lad had a strong desire to see the crew afloat, otherwise he might not have taken advantage of the permission while there was any work to be performed.

Fluff had remained in the chair like an obedient dog that he could be when so disposed; but he came down after the fashion of an exceedingly small and very white whirlwind at the first word from his master.

“Be careful that old Maje ain’t layin’ anywhere outside on the watch,” the cook cried; but Benny believed there was no necessity for him to be over-cautious regarding the safety of his pet. Fluff’s experience with the big dog had been such that he did not intend giving Maje another opportunity of playing ball with him; he marched sedately and very close at Benny’s heels from the station, down to that point on the shore overlooking the reef on which the _Amazonia_ had gone to pieces.

It was the first time the lad had seen the wreck of the ship which served him as a home during so many months, because every member of the crew had taken especial care to prevent his wandering in that direction.

On this morning the men most likely believed Benny would be employed in the kitchen, and, perhaps, expected the cook would prevent him from going out on the shore; but if the latter had thought of the matter at all, it was probably with the idea that the boy must at some time see the small portion of the ship which remained on the rocks, and as well then as at any other.

At all events, he allowed his assistant to go out as has been seen, and instantly Benny came in view of these vestiges of disaster all the sorrow of the past came over him like a flood, drowning for the time being every other thought save of that night, when he alone out of all the ship’s company came safely to land.

Seated upon the rocks he buried his face in Fluff’s silken hair, and gave way once more to his grief. Then, the outburst of tears having in a measure soothed him, he looked out upon the frowning reef whereon the _Amazonia_ ended her cruise.

The forward portion of the dismembered hull, with the foremast still standing, and a few timbers of the after portion, was all that remained to tell of the stately vessel which had plowed her way through so many oceans only to meet with disaster when virtually within sight of the home port.

“It won’t do for us to be crying all the time, Fluff, else the crew will get tired, and think perhaps we’d better find some other job; but we shall keep on feeling sorry just so long as we live because the captain and Mrs. Clark didn’t come ashore with us.”

It was his own words which reminded Benny of the fact that the bodies of those who had been drowned would, in the ordinary course of events, be washed ashore, and at the very moment this came into his mind he saw the life-saving crew taking from the wreckage what was unquestionably a human body.

“Oh, Fluff, Fluff, it may be our captain that they have found! We can’t stay here and see them bring him ashore!”

Hugging the dog so tightly that the little fellow uttered a low cry of protest, Benny ran back to the station, and there it was necessary to explain to the cook why his eyes were red and swollen from weeping.

“No, my son, it’s not the captain’s body they have found, for that was carried into the city last night, together with the remains of his wife and some of the sailors. You were sent out on patrol with Sam Hardy and Joe Cushing so you shouldn’t see what was being done; but it had to be known, and now it is as good a time as any other for you to be told.”

Benny tried unsuccessfully to check his tears, and the cook, observing the struggle, said in a kindly tone:

“Look here, lad; you’ve had in your short life a good bit of sadness, an’ it ain’t to be wondered at that this last blow comes mighty tough. Now take my advice, and have a solid cry. Go back into the thicket, for there’s no need of your seein’ what the crew will bring ashore, if it so be you were not mistaken about what was taken from the wreck. Go back into the thicket with the dog, and stay there till I call you for dinner. It’ll help you out, and prevent some ugly sights.”

Benny hesitated. This running away from work in order to spare himself additional sorrow was not to his mind manly, and he feared lest those who had constituted themselves his guardians might censure him for so doing.

“I can’t help feeling bad; but that ain’t any reason why I shouldn’t stay where I belong, for no matter how much work I do, it won’t be possible to pay Fluff’s board and mine. I think perhaps I ought to hold on right here.”

“Do as I tell you, my boy. I’ll explain to the men when they come in, and you may be certain that the keeper himself would give the same advice in the form of an order, if he was ashore. There’s no reason to take more bitter things in this life than is necessary; so be off with you, and I’ll answer for it that Fluff C. Foster won’t object to a tramp through the woods.”

Benny could do no less than act upon this suggestion, which was at the same time a command, and with Fluff under his arm he set off, not daring to turn his head seaward lest he should see the crew engaged in their gruesome work.

Once within the shelter of the pine trees, where patches of brown moss could be seen here and there, much to the delight of Fluff, Benny gave way to his gloomy thoughts until the antics of the dog, overjoyed at having this opportunity for a scamper after so many months of life on shipboard, aroused him from his mournful revery.

Then, and he blamed himself most severely for finding it possible to do other than mourn at such a time, he yielded to the dog’s mute entreaties, and the two ran here and there under the trees, the low moaning of the murderous surf alone breaking the silence, until the cook’s cries told that the noon-day meal was ready.

When Benny answered the summons the boat-room door was closed, and he believed this had been done to shut out from view those forms which had come ashore from the _Amazonia_.