e seen in the
smother but the great black iron rim rolling savagely, the white water
spouting about it, and, as it heaved above the waves, the searchlight
showed its black sides with the water streaming down. There, clustered
at the pumps, were the four men, working like a bunch of madmen and
shouting for help as the cylinder rose above the water, strangling and
clinging to the pump-handles like grim death as she went under. It was
for their lives that they were working, for if ever half a dozen tons of
water should slop over the side of the black monster, it would sink
straight to the bottom, and so great would be the suction that there was
not the slightest chance that any of them would ever come up alive.

"That was one time I saw Father in action. He yelled for the lifeboat
and got volunteers. Out of the blank confusion he brought order, and in
less than two minutes the lifeboat was over the side with twelve men
aboard, Father one of them. The little boat rose on the waves like a
feather and the third wave dashed it against the rim of the cylinder. As
the frail craft crushed like an eggshell, every man leaped for the edge,
hanging on to the sharp iron edge like grim death.

"Down came the cylinder again and as she careened, every man clambered
on. The added weight made her top-heavy and she began to ship water
badly. Four of the fresh men were put at the pumps to relieve the others
who were exhausted by their efforts.

[Illustration: "THE IRON RIM ROLLING SAVAGELY."

The cylinder of the Smith's Point Lighthouse caught in a storm while
being towed down Chesapeake Bay.

Courtesy of McClure's Magazine.]

"Father had climbed on the cylinder, with a rope slung over his
shoulders. He called to the men to haul in. At the end of it was a large
piece of canvas, an old sail. With nothing to which they could hold on,
with the waves dashing high and that great iron drum reeling drunkenly
on the sea, those men lay flat on their stomachs and spread that sail
over the top of the cylinder. More than once it seemed as though wind
and sea would get under that sail and with one vast heave, pitch every
man into the sea, but they held on. One of the men, an old time
shellback, bent that sail on to the cylinder so snugly and cleverly that
almost two-thirds of the surface was protected. With teeth as well as
hands the men held on, and lashed the canvas into place.

"Every second they expected to feel the cylinder founder beneat