“No,” he replied, “I am the only one.”
I laid on more fuel, left him, and walked along shore, looking into the surf with the keenest eye I had. I set off lights, but no answer. Then I went back to the hut, and the sailor had recovered sufficiently to give me a full account of how the vessel came on.
“We had thick weather for several days,” he said, “and had lost our reckoning. We struck heavily on the bar off here, sounded, and made up our minds that we were on Nantucket Shoals, and that the only thing for us to do was to land. We hauled the boat up on the leeward side, the men got in, and I stood on the rail to cast off. Just as I had thrown down the painter, a big sea, coming round the stern of the vessel, struck the boat and turned her bottom side up. It happened in less than no time, for I had let go and had to jump. I struck on the bottom of the yawl and slid off into the sea. When I came up and put out my arms to swim, I struck an oar in front of me. This saved me. With it I worked toward the shore, but there I had a fearful struggle. Eleven times the waves threw me up on shore, but the undertow was so strong it carried me back each time. My strength was about all gone. The twelfth time a large wave carried me farther up. I felt the moving sand under my feet, and, with the last remnant of strength, I dug both hands and feet into the sand with all my will, and just kept myself from being carried back again. I crawled up on the shore and rested. When I got up to look around, I saw a crack of light from the fire in this hut, and I staggered toward it.”
I summoned the rest of the crew, and we had tough work the rest of that night and for some days afterward.
But I was always apprehensive after this experience and it weighed on my mind. So in the spring I left the Beach, concluding that what I had heard and seen was enough for one lifetime.
THE MOWERS’ PHANTOM
In the eighties of the last century, on the sparsely settled old country road north of Yaphank, two mowers were arranging, one August evening, to go to the Beach next day, and cut the sedge upon a neighbor’s meadow. “We must make an ’arly start,” said Raner. “By sunrise we ought ’o be well through the [Gore in the Hills]. Arter wants that piece o’ sedge all laid to-morrer, ef we be men enough to do it.”
“How be you goin’ ’cross?” asked Layn.
“In the ol’ hay-boat. I got her ready at Squasux week ago yisterday. Josh Alibee is to meet us there, so there’ll be three on us, you see. A big day’s work, but we’ll take suthin’ along to brace us up while we’re doin’ on it.”