第66章 IN WHICH TRUMET TALKS OF CAPTAIN NAT(1)
Summer was over,autumn came,passed,and it was winter--John Ellery's first winter in Trumet.Fish weirs were taken up,the bay filled with ice,the packet ceased to run,and the village settled down to hibernate until spring.The stage came through on its regular trips,except when snow or slush rendered the roads impassable,but passengers were very few.Occasionally there were northeast gales,with shrieking winds,driving gusts of sleet and hail and a surf along the ocean side that bellowed and roared and tore the sandy beach into new shapes,washing away shoals and building others,blocking the mouth of the little inlet where the fish boats anchored and opening a new channel a hundred yards farther down.Twice there were wrecks,one of a fishing schooner,the crew of which were fortunate enough to escape by taking to the dories,and another,a British bark,which struck on the farthest bar and was beaten to pieces by the great waves,while the townspeople stood helplessly watching from the shore,for launching a boat in that surf was impossible.
The minister was one of those who watched.News of the disaster had been brought to the village by the lightkeeper's assistant,and Ellery and most of the able-bodied men in town had tramped the three miles to the beach,facing the screaming wind and the cutting blasts of flying sand.As they came over the dunes there were times when they had to dig their heels into the ground and bend forward to stand against the freezing gale.And,as they drew nearer,the thunder of the mighty surf grew ever louder,until they saw the white clouds of spray leap high above the crazily tossing,flapping bunches of beach grass that topped the last knoll.
Three masts and a broken bowsprit sticking slantwise up from a whirl of creamy white,that was all they could see of the bark,at first glance.But occasionally,as the breakers drew back for another cruel blow,they caught glimpses of the tilted deck,smashed bare of houses and rail.
Those black things on the masts?asked Ellery,bending to scream the question into the ear of Gaius Winslow,his companion.Are they--it can't be possible that they're--Yup,shrieked Gaius in reply,they're men.Crew lashed in the riggin'.Poor fellers!it'll soon be over for 'em.And they're most likely frozen stiff a'ready and won't sense drownin',that's a comfort.Men!repeated the minister in horror.Men!Great God!and are we to stand by here and see them die without lifting a hand?Why,it's barbarous!It's--Winslow seized his arm and pointed.
Look!he shouted.Look at them!How much good would our liftin'hands do against them?Ellery looked.The undertow,that second,was sucking the beach dry,sucking with such force that gravel and small stones pattered down the slope in showers.And behind it a wave,its ragged top raveled by the wind into white streamers,was piling up,up,up,sheer and green and mighty,curling over now and descending with a hammer blow that shook the land beneath their feet.And back of it reared another,and another,and another,an eighth of a mile of whirling,surging,terrific breakers,with a yelling hurricane whipping them on.
It was soon over,as Gaius had said it would be.A mighty leap of spray,a section of hull broken off and tossed into view for an instant,then two of the masts went down.The other followed almost at once.Then the watchers,most of them,went back to the village,saying little or nothing and dispersing silently to their homes.
During the next fortnight John Ellery conducted six funeral services,brief prayers beside the graves of unknown men from that wreck.The bodies,as they were washed ashore,were put into plain coffins paid for by the board of selectmen,and buried in the corner of the Regular cemetery beside other waifs thrown up by the sea in other years.It was a sad experience for him,but it was an experience and tended to make him forget his own sorrow just a little.Or,if not to forget,at least to think of and sympathize more keenly with the sorrows of others.Somewhere,in England or Ireland or scattered over the wide world,there were women and children waiting for these men,waiting anxiously for news of their safe arrival in port,praying for them.When he mentioned this thought to the townspeople they nodded philosophically and said yes,they presumed likely.As Captain Zeb put it,Most sailors are fools enough to get married,prob'ly this lot wa'n't any exception.It was no new thought to him or to any other dweller in that region.It was almost a fixed certainty that,if you went to sea long enough,you were bound to be wrecked sometime or other.
The chances were that,with ordinary luck and good management,you would escape with your life.Luck,good or bad,was the risk of the trade;good management was expected,as a matter of course.
Mr.Pepper made no more calls at the parsonage,and when the minister met him,at church or elsewhere,seemed anxious to avoid an interview.
Well,Abishai,asked Ellery,on one of these occasions,how are you getting on at home?Has your sister locked you up again?No,sir,she ain't,replied Kyan.Laviny,she's sort of diff'rent lately.She ain't nigh so--so down on a feller as she used to be.I can get out once in a while by myself nowadays,when she wants to write a letter or somethin'.Oh,she's writing letters,is she?
Um--hm.Writes one about every once in a week.I don't know who they're to,nuther,but I have my suspicions.You see,we've got a cousin out West--out Pennsylvany way--and he ain't very well and has got a turrible lot of money.I'm sort of surmisin'that Laviny's writin'to him.We're about his only relations that's left alive and--and so--I see.The minister smiled.