Thrilling Stories of the Ocean | Page 9

layer of sand, sufficient to hide them, and yet thin enough
to admit the warmth of the sun's rays for hatching them. The instinct
which leads the female turtle to the shore to lay her eggs, renders her a
prey to man. The fishers wait for them on shore, especially on a
moonlight night, and following them in one of their journeys, either
coming or returning, they turn them quickly over on their backs, before
they have time to defend themselves, or to blind their assailants by
throwing up the sand with their fins.
When very large, for I should tell you that the usual weight of the turtle
is from four to six hundred pounds, it requires the efforts of several
men to turn them over, and for this purpose they often employ levers:
the back shell of the turtle is so flat that when once over it is impossible
for them to right themselves, so there the poor creatures lie in this
helpless condition, till they are either taken away in the manner you see
in the picture, or deposited by their captors in a crawl, which is a kind
of enclosure surrounded by stakes, and so situated as to admit the
influx of the sea.
The inhabitants of the Bahama Isles, catch many turtles at a
considerable distance from the shore; they strike them with a spear, the
head of which slips off when it has entered the body of the turtle, but it
is fastened by a string to the pole, and by means of this apparatus they
are able to secure them, and either take them into the boat or haul them
on shore. The length of the green turtle frequently exceeds six feet. A
boy ten years old, a son of Captain Roche, once made use of a very
large shell as a boat, and ventured in it from the shore to his father's
ship which lay about a quarter of a mile off. It was in the bay of
Campeachy, off Port Royal, where the rightful occupant of this shell
was caught.
[Illustration: WRECK OF THE STEAMBOAT.]

THE WRECK OF THE STEAMBOAT.
The following narrative teaches a lesson of courage and devotion such
as are seldom read. In one of the light-houses of the desolate Farne
Isles, amid the ocean, with no prospect before it but the wide expanse
of sea, and now and then a distant sail appearing, her cradle hymn the
ceaseless sound of the everlasting deep, there lived a little child whose
name was Grace Darling. Her father was the keeper of the light-house;

and here Grace lived and grew up to the age of twenty-two, her
mother's constant helpmate in all domestic duties. She had a fair and
healthy countenance, which wore a kind and cheerful smile, proceeding
from a heart at peace with others, and happy in the consciousness of
endeavoring to do its duty.
It was at early dawn, one September morning, in the year 1838, that the
family at the Longstone light-house looked out through a dense fog
which hung over the waters. All night the sea had run extremely high,
with a heavy gale from the north, and at this moment the storm
continued unabated. Mr. and Mrs. Darling and Grace were at this time
the only persons in the light-house; through the dim mist they
perceived the wreck of a large steam vessel on the rocks, and by the aid
of their telescope the could even make out the forms of some persons
clinging to her.
It was the Forfarshire steamboat on her passage from Hull to Dundee.
She left the former place with sixty-three persons on board. She had
entered Berwick Bay about eight o'clock the previous evening, in a
heavy gale and in a leaky condition; the motion of the vessel soon
increased the leak to such a degree that the fires could not be kept
burning. About ten o'clock she bore up off St. Abb's Head, the storm
still raging. Soon after the engineer reported that the engines would not
work; the vessel became unmanageable; it was raining heavily, and the
fog was so dense that it was impossible to make out their situation. At
length the appearance of breakers close to leeward, and the Farne lights
just becoming visible, showed to all on board their imminent danger.
The captain vainly tried to run the vessel between the islands and the
main land, she would no longer answer the helm, and was driven to and
fro by a furious sea. Between three and four o'clock in the morning she
struck with her bows foremost on a jagged rock, which pierced her
timbers. Soon after the first shock a mighty wave lifted the vessel from
the rock, and let her fall again