ted efforts were nine men successfully landed
with tools and provisions. Though only one mile from shore they made
provision for a prolonged stay, built a heavy timber hut, bolting it to
the rock, and began blasting away the crest of the island to prepare
foundations for the new lighthouse. High as they were above the water, the
sea swept over the rock in a torrent when the storms raged. In one tempest
the hut was swept away and the men were barely able to cling to the rock
until the waves moderated. That same night an English bark went to pieces
under the rock, so near that the workmen above, clinging for dear life to
their precarious perch, could hear the shouts of her officers giving their
commands. A bonfire was kindled, in hope of warning the doomed sailors of
their peril, but it was too late, for the ship could not be extricated
from her position, and became a total wreck, with the loss of the lives of
twenty of her company. To-day a clear beam of light shines out to sea,
eighteen miles from the top of Tillamook, and only the criminally careless
captain can come near enough to be in any danger whatsoever. Such is one
bit of progress made in safeguarding the sea.

More wearing even than life in a lighthouse is that aboard the lightships,
of which the United States Government now has forty-five in commission.
The lightship is regarded by the Government as merely a makeshift, though
some of them have been in use for more than a quarter of a century. They
are used to mark shoals and reefs where it has thus far been impossible to
construct a lighthouse, or obstructions to navigation which may be but
temporary. While costing less than lighthouses, they are not in favor with
the Lighthouse Board, because the very conditions which make a light most
necessary, are likely to cause these vessels to break from their moorings
and drift away, leaving their post unguarded. Their keepers suffer all the
discomforts of a sailor's life and most of its dangers, while enjoying
none of its novelty and freedom. The ships are usually anchored in shoal
water, where the sea is sure to run high, and the tossing and rolling of
the craft makes life upon it insupportable. They are always farther out to
sea than the lighthouses, and the opportunities for the keepers to get
ashore to their families are correspondingly fewer. In heavy storms their
decks are awash, and their cabins dripping; the lights, which must be
watched, instead of being at the