CHILDREN'S COLUMN.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXVIII, Issue 11629, 17 April 1901, Page 3

CHILDREN'S COLUMN.

THE RACE FOR " SMITHY." [BT WIHIHIIOP PACKAKD.] The blue shark is a man-eater known in all seas, but most common in the tropics. He is sometimes 25ft long, although he averages less, and is an agile, active fellow, with a black fin that sticks up like an indicator when he swims near the surface. His mouth is wide, though not with good nature, and be has many rows of well-developed, serrated teeth. Two blue sharks took the cruiser in charge off Cape Maysi, and followed her to the blockade off San Juan, Porto Rico. They swam leisurely about the ship each day, and because one was big and seemed pompous in Jus ways we called him the Don. The other was the Donkey, because of his alleged stupidity or obstinacy. He never tried to back out of more than one thing. That was a mess porkbarrel. Some of the mess pork became bad, and a barrel containing a few chunks of it was thrown overboard. The Donkey became attentive directly, and made ludicrous attempts to eat. the barrel, scarring it vainly with his sharp teeth. Then he tried to capsize it by ramming. In one of these charges he surprised the barrel with its mouth swung low, and rushed straight into it.

Then ensued some remarkable evolutions. The shark either couldn't or wouldn't back out,, but plunged about wildly with the barrel jammed on his head. The crew were in an uproar of laughter and amazement. ■ Finally he started due east, ploughing the waves like a torpedo boat, apparently bound for the west coast of Africa. At any rate, we never saw him again. The Don did not appear to miss his companion, and when he left the blockade he followed us round the island to the harbour of Ponce. Here for a time he cruised with ■ us among the fleet, and varied his route by daily circumnavigating the little lighthouse island that marks the entrance to the harbour. The crew did not care for his presence, but he refused a hook, and it was beneath the dignity of the navy to try a six-pounder on him. Then the troopships began to come in, and we had other matters to take up our attention, especially when the Massachusetts ran aground on the bar and we had to pull her off. The Massachusetts was a big sixthousand lon liner, loaded with cavalry, and the work of taking off the horses and men began at once. The ship and the waters about her were a scene of gigantic confusion. Horses hung in clings were lowered kicking over the side into lighters, that bumped together in a jumping sea, launches were taking off troopers, and one or two great cruisers were straining at huge hawsers in a futile attempt to get the cruiser afloat. In the strain of over-work, men grew irritable and quarrelsome, and then it was that the bantam coxswain and big " Smithy," who pulled the stroke-oar, fell out over some tuvial matter. This was a pity, for the two had been as Damon and" Pythias. Smith, or " Smithy," as he was called, did the letter of his duty in the boat, but he so ignored the spirit "of it as to bring upon the coxswain the wrath of the executive officer, and to put him in danger of disrating. Then the" coxswain, partly in self-defence, but more in anger, "showed up" Smithy, and had him taken from the boat, a position which was desirable, as it was the " running boat," and made daily trips ashore. But as Smithy was too good an oarsman to be spared" from rowing he was transferred to the second whaleboat, which did the heavy work of running hawsers and "hiking' horses to the lighthouse island when they fell overboard from the lighters. If Smithy and the bantam coxswain had been more of a match physically their differences would have ended in a fight; one or the other would have been soundly whipped, and then they would have shaken hands again and been friends. ' The disparity in weight was too-great, and they continued to glower. Running hawsers was severe work, but hiking horses was pleasant to Smithy, who had been bred on a farm, and loved them. The horses, had been short of water on the troopship, and when lowered into the lighters would sometimes go mad at sight of the sea, and jump overboard 5 in a wild attempt to drink it up. Then, as they swam at random, it became the duty of the second whaleboat's crew to drive or lead them to the shore of the lighthouse island, where, once past the surf, they found pasturage until the service wanted them. Often when horses were nearing the beach a big wave breaking in front of them would make one turn in fright and swim out, and the chase would begin anew. To the credit of the crew, be it said that of all these horses but one was drowned. He swam straight out to sea while the crew were engaged on some important work, and was lost. Meanwhile the first whaleboat's crew and their bantam coxswain were having a good time. Their boat had been fitted with a big spritsail, and with, it the trips to and from shore were made easily in the stiff south-cast trade winds which blow constantly across the bay. The course from ship to shore lay well to Windward, until past the stranded Massachusetts and the bar, which made easterly from the island. At this bar the surf broke tremendously in roaring floods of foam that swept fathoms deep across it, and left it bare at others. The run back from shore to ship was made merrily with the wind on the quarter, the cox's only care being to leave the surf of the bar well to leeward. In the midst of all this toil and turmoil the big shark was forgotten. Don Vas missing; he seemed to have gone on a cruise of his own. One afternoon the second whaleboat was hiking horses quite as usual, and big Smithy attempted a daring feat. A horse had been towed half way to shore. Smith sat in the stern, holding him by the forelock, and the rest of the crew were rowing leisurely, when another horse went overboard and started seaward. The boat was immediately signalled to go after this one, but it had no sooner started than the other aninal, released near the shore, turned and swam after the boat. The dilemma was promptly solved by Smithy. Ho sprang into the sea, grasped the horse by the forelock, bestrode him, turned his head shoreward again, and said to the coxswain: " I'll swim this one ashore. You can get me when you come with the other one." The coxswain was in doubt for a moment, but the horse obeyed Smith's guidance so well that he gave the order, " Give way together!" and the boat sped over the waves toward the seaward-swimming horse. Smith" patted his mount's neck, fouud that he was trained to guide by the touch of the rein, spoke to him reassuringly, and they progressed steadily. By-and-by, as they neared the shore, "Smith's exultation in the novelty and excitement of his deed was dulled' a bit by the roar of the surf. Very loud this sounded, and 'Smithy, rising as high from his seat as he could, found that instead of swimming directly toward the usual beach, where a lauding was difficult enough, the horse had been' bearing to the starboard, and was nearing the white water of the bar, where waited serious danger, if not certain disaster. Still escape seemed simple enough. Smithy turned the horse, spoke gently, and started him swimming parallel with the beach, away from the bar, intending to make an oiling first and then land; but to his surprise the horse did not seem to increase his distance from the bar. An undertow set along the beach and towards it, and he made no headway against its current. Smith urged the horse now, and the animal seemed to hear and fear the roar of the bar, for he settled nobly to his work. Then Smithy thought he heard shouting borne on the wind from the stranded troopship. Looking up, he saw men on it gesticulating wildly to him and pointing, but he could not hear what they said. Looking seaward he saw that the second whaleboat had turned back, and he knew by the rapid swing of the oars and the way the men lay back on them that they were hurryirg in his direction. Why this was he could not tell, for he felt sure of his own safety. Then lie looked again at the Massachusetts, and saw on the bridge a signalman with a red flag rapidly wigwagging. The red flag was telling something to somebody astern of Smithy, and as' he watched be spelled out the concluding word, " s-h-a-r-k." Then, as Smith said afterward, he knew what it was to be between the devil and the deep sea." The bar roared white behind him, the undertow pulled him and his

weary horse from the- safety of the beaeh, and , somewhere to seaward,, he knew not where, but he knew well. not far awsqr, the black fin of the coming Don was cutting the waves. *

Smithy tried .to turn back to the bar; the crush and smother there would be better than the teeth of the Don; but the horse, now in a panic, would not turn towards the roar of the white water. The crew of the second whaleboat, from which Smithy had jumped, were swinging the big sweeps to their utmost tension in a way that curled the white foam from the bow, but he knew that their speed was little compared with that of the big shark, and he tried again to turn the horse toward the. bar. Again the horse refused. Then Smithy opened the blunt-pointed sailor knife which hung at his lanyard end. useless weapon though he knew it to be, and waited.

Meanwhile the first whaleboat, under sail, was skimming the waves towards the ship, returning from a. trip ashore. They had run down to leeward to another transport on the way out, and were now tacking, close-hauled, to weather the bar. The bantam coxswain was at the tiller, and he watched the ships across the bar on his lee bow with a vigilant eye, for it seemed as if something unusual was going on. After a moment ho spoke:! " Bow oarsman!"

" Ay, ay, sir." The bow oarsman, who had been lounging on his thwart, sat up at attention.

'" Stand up for'ard there, and see if you can see what's going on inshore, the other side of the bar."

The bow oarsman did as he was bidden, and after a moment answered: " Someone is swimming a horse ashore; think it's big Smithy. The other whaleboat's well out to sea, pulling hard towards him. They're wigwagging to us from the Massachusetts, sir."

The crew were on their feet now, and spelled out the message " Man overboard inside bar. Get him. Shark!"

The bantam coxswain's mouth set into a thin, straight line across his face. He realised the chances Smithy had taken, and knew the peril. Standing in the sternsheets with the tiller against his knee, he waved an answer " Ay, ay" to the message and looking over the bar, saw the heads of Smithy and the horse rising and disappearing among the big waves. He saw the second whaleboat in the distance, and knew that it would not reach Smithy for some time. Then the bantam coxswain eased the sheet and put the helm up a. little, running dangerously near the white water in his deshe to make speed. The shark he could not see, but it was evident that the monster was visible from the troopship, for in a moment the little machine gun on the " fiddley" deck was unlimbered, and a sputtering, stream of bullets chipped spray from the waves at a point still a long distance from the bobbing heads. The coxswain guessed that the shark was at that point, which rapidly grew nearer to Smithy and the horse.

The swell was running much, higher as (he boat neared the bar, and the roar of it drowned the noise of the gun, but the bantam coxswain saw, or thought he saw, the black fin of the Don cutting the waves, untouched by the rebounding bullets. Smithy was almost exactly to leeward of the small coxswain now, and the distance round the bar was three times the direct route across it. The crew could not make it in time, and the coxswain knew it. But if they could cross the baa! The bantam watched the white water keenly, longingly. Then he looked at the swimming horse and man, who were being borne by the undertow toward the bar. The shark was nearing them rapidly, and a few moments would decide their fate. The coxswain looked at the crew with a question in his eyes, and found them looking at him with the same question in theirs ; eyes that were bright with energy and courage, although their cheeks were a bit pale through the tan. "Shall we try it?" he shouted, and their answer to the question which they had felt rather than heard came steady through the roar of the surf: "Ay, ay, sir!" " Out oars!" The six oars went into the rowlocks as one. Then, easing the sheet still more, and putting.the helm up, the coxswain swung the bow of the whaleboat straight for the white water of the bar.

A second or two and she rose high on the toppling crest of a huge wave. Watching the water narrowly, the coxswain waited till the wave had dropped them into the yawning hollow behind it, then gave the order, " Stern all, hard!" and let the sheet slide through his fingers.

The stern rose on the following wave till the boat seemed almost perpendicular, and she went up the steep incline the coxswain felt the slap of the curling crest strike him on the back. The next moment she rode the froth of the summit.

" Give way together," he shouted, emphasising the faintly-heard order with a gesture, and hauling the sheet till the mast bent to the rush of the wind.

As the sir oars dipped in the foam, and the six sturdy oarsmen bent their backs for their lives, the grey sand of the bar which had showed the second before in front of them was buried fathom-deep in a smother of foam, and into this the whaleboat shot with the water boiling over her gunwales.

There was a jar, a grinding scrape, a whirl of seething water, and with the rush of the next wave the whaleboat slid off the inside of the bar. There were several tons of water and six excited men inside her, but all were safe if she could be humoured a little until baled.

But how about Smithy? On the rise of a wave they saw him with white face and knife clasped tight in his hand, while just the other side of him the black fin of the Don showed for a second and then sank, It looked as if the shark had won.

" Give way, boys, give way," shouted the coxswain, and the water-logged boat sped forward. They were close to the two swimmers, and eager hands were reaching for Smithy, when something white gleamed in the water below.

The struggling horse turned and struck viciously at it with his forefeet. Then the bow oarsman dropped his oar, and, seizing a long boathook, jabbed it ferociously beneath the bow again and again. The coxswain gave a shout of exultation as he saw Smithy hauled aboard unharmed, and the shout was echoed by the bow oarsman; he had felt the boathook penetrate the tough hide of the Don, and had seen the water redden. Then there was nothing more to jab at, for the shark had disappeared.

A moment later the second whaleboat pulled alongside, but the bantam coxswain claimed Smithy as his capture, and would not let them take him aboard. He said they might take the horse ashore and welcome. Smithy was rowed to the ship in triumph, and there received orders to get into dry clothes, report at once to his place in the second whaleboat, and stay there.

At four bells that night, however, the bantam' coxswain and his crew were called before the mast, and received from the caplain a brief word of commendation for their pluck and decision. They all felt well over this, for praise was rare, even when deserved, and the coxswain was particularly happy over a hint of promotion. But better even than that to him was the hearty handgrip which he and Smith exchanged in silence as they eat down to mess that night.— Youths' Companion.