January, 1922 
FOREST AND STREAM 
13 
with many experiences, amusing and 
otherwise, connected with the Coast 
Guard’s life. 
It was late when we left the Station. 
A stiff sou’easter shrilled eerily about 
the low-hung eaves, whirled the sand like 
wreaths from the crest of the dunes, and 
threatening to blind us before we had 
reached the ice. 
“Looks like we’re in for a solid gale,” 
Peter remarked as we, at last, stepped 
aboard our craft. I agreed with him. 
The weather had tired of behaving itself. 
There was no mistaking the look of that 
sky, and we snuggled things away secure- 
ly before turning in for the night. 
I didn’t know how long I had slept. 
It might have been an hour, a minute ; 
there was nothing to mark the flight of 
time. I merely knew that I had slept 
and was awake — awake in every nerve 
of my body. Something strange and 
altogether awesome was happening to 
our boat ! In an instant I was scram- 
bling out with a yell to the sleeping 
Pete. One thing, and one only, could 
account for the sharpie’s action — one 
catastrophe explain the weird noises that 
reached me.. The ice had begun to move ! 
My first thought was one of thanks- 
giving as I noted that daylight was close 
at hand. Already the beach stood out 
against the skyline ; I could even make 
out the roof of the Station — strange that 
my eyes should have sought for it as 
soon as I reached the deck. A grinding, 
grating, altogether fearsome sound came 
to me out of the darkened west. The 
incessant cracking of the ice close at 
hand — like pistol shots in my ears ; the 
uncanny lurching of the craft beneath 
us, all combined to produce a feeling of 
uneasiness that I couldn’t well shake off. 
Undoubtedly the ice to leeward was 
moving. It was only a question of time 
when the field about us would break up 
piecemeal and drift away like the rest. 
What then? The inlet? The ocean? 
Who could count on the trend of tide 
and wind? Yes, I was plumb uneasy; 
one might almost have called me scared. 
I measured the distance to Oak Island 
with a calculating eye. A matter of fifty 
or sixty yards, I judged, lay between us 
and the shelving beach — fifty yards of 
ice that was six inches thick and might 
have held a horse and cart ! 
Pete? Oh, yes; Pete was alive to the 
situation. I have since thought that his 
head was, withal, the clearer of the two. 
He was franctically searching for a mis- 
placed boot, overturning the contents of 
the cabin, and calling Heaven to witness 
that he’d “put it right there !” — “some- 
one, of course, had moved it.” I was 
forced to believe he meant me. He stum- 
bled out to the cockpit at last, both boots 
in their proper place. “I’m going over 
to the Life Saving Station,” he an- 
nounced briefly. “Perhaps the boys can 
tell us what to do. We’ve got to do 
something quickly.” 
I SAT there in the dusky dawn, waiting 
^ for Pete’s return and wondering in a 
dispirited way how it would feel to be 
adrift in mid-ocean, locked in a field of 
solid ice and bound for no one knew 
where. Intermittently, the surface about 
me would crack with a long, ripping, 
rending noise, and I could distinctly feel 
the old Noah heave to the seas that were 
rolling in under the ice. Thoughts of 
home and its many comforts; a life of 
safety on good dry land of a sudden 
called to me with an altogether new ap- 
peal. As a matter of fact, I was fed up 
on ice — ice and ice, and still more ice ; 
cold days and colder nights ; bum grub 
and not enough of it; narrow quarters, 
limited companionship ; well. I’d simply 
had enough. If I ever got out of the 
present predicament — my thoughts had 
gotten to this point when I descried a 
little cavalcade approaching out of the 
rosy east. As they drew closer I saw 
that each man— and there were nine in 
that rescue party — was armed with an 
ax or giant saw, and they swung across 
the ice with a certain easy confidence 
that at once put me back in heart. Pete 
had done his work well. Five Life 
Savers — accredited Life Savers, that is, 
and four lusty volunteers from the beach 
who were anxious to lend a hand. Did 
they hesitate, studying their plan of 
action? They did not. Your Life Saver 
plans as he goes along, his job oftentimes 
a race against time and the Devil to pay 
if he loses. 
With scarcely a word they went at 
their work — these men of the sands. Of 
the sands, did I say? Yes; and of the 
rocks and ledges and far-flung marshes ; 
these men who from north to south, 
south to north, stand hourly between the 
sea and its prey; these men of bone and 
muscle and heart, ever awake, ever alert, 
ever ready to risk their lives where other 
lives arc at stake. 
I have a suspicion that the salvaging 
of the good ship Noah was somewhat in 
the nature of a lark to this calm-eyed 
crew. They worked, to be sure, like 
Trojans, sawing and chopping, pushing 
and hauling at the heavy ice cakes, but 
the while there was many a sly thrust at 
Pete and myself. I think they regarded 
us as mere babes— aquatic babes in a 
figurative wood, quite incapable of fend- 
ing for ourselves. In spite of joke and 
banter, however, I am sure they realized 
how great was the need of haste. Be- 
hind us the sea was running high ; an 
angry, menacing sort of sea that made 
short shrift of the stubborn ice. Forced 
forward by the storm, great cakes would 
sweep up to bank high on the unbroken 
field ; then crash ! and another huge slab 
had dropped away into the bay. We had 
seen our predicament in time, however. 
Good fortune in securing assistance was 
winning the day for us, and every stroke 
of those mighty saws bringing our troub- 
les nearer an end. By nine o’clock the 
sharpie’s bow was high and dry on Oak 
Island beach, her hawser fast to a si.x- 
inch tree, and we were attempting to 
thank nine grinning men who didn't want 
any thanks. 
How can you beat them ? We wanted 
to cook breakfast, but we knew we 
couldn’t cook breakfast for eleven si.x- 
foot men, so we said nothing about 
breakfast, merely repeating our thanks. 
I suppose we must have looked hungry. 
How else could they have guessed our 
embarrassment as quickly as they did? 
(^Continued on page 35) 
