ONCE on a time I was in North Wales, and was fond of getting on some mountain to enjoy the fine scenery below my feet, while in the distance the great ocean stretched far as the eye could reach, till sky and waves seemed to mingle. Sometimes I would wander amid the solitude of the hills, or amid the ruins of by-gone ages, where the silence was alone broken by the busy little waterfall in its leapings over the jutting rocks as though eager to gain the broad river that wound among the valleys in a serpent-like course. But I was once looking from the bridge that crosses the Menai Strait, admiring the grandeur of the scenery around me from its giddy height. Leisurely looking on the water below, and watching the steamboats with their loads of sightseers as they left a path of foam behind them, I was at last attracted by some boats that lay along-side a little landing place, and while looking from one object to another, I saw two little boys get into a boat, and, loosing the rope that held it to the moorings, the bigger of the two gave a push and the boat drifted slowly away. The mischievous boys were “just going to have a ride.” For a few minutes they rolled about, and this made the boat go farther away; the tide was fast ebbing as well, and this made the boat speed farther from the landing stage. The boys now looked about them for the oars, intending to pull back I suppose, but there were none. I could see by their manner that the poor lads were frightened, and as they found they were now being borne away towards the bay of Carnarvon, and then on to the great wide sea, they set up a shout. I felt frightened too, as I saw the helpless boys drifting rapidly down farther and farther away. No other boats appeared to be at hand just then. But to my joy and surprise I saw an unexpected deliverer. A lad about fourteen, I think he was, saw the danger of the boys, threw off his jacket and boots, and without hesitation plunged in. He was evidently a good swimmer, and seemed quite at home in the waves, and the brave little fellow struck out boldly towards the boat. It was a breathless time as I watched his progress. The frightened boys, too, saw him coming, and I think I can tell how they felt at such a time. Ben, the boat boy, at last gained the boat side, and telling the boys to get on one side, he got in at the other. He was well up to his work, or he would have capsized the boat. He was not long in turning it around. It seemed to me as if he used one of the foot boards to paddle it back.
As soon as I saw the boys safely landed, I went on my way. I had no doubt brave Ben got his reward. I am sure he must have felt happy in delivering the poor boys from their danger. I could not help turning my thoughts to Him who had delivered me from a worse danger than that, when, as giddy and thoughtless as the boys, I was going on my way, and the precious text came to my mind, “He loved me and gave Himself for me.” I dare say a good many of my little readers can say this from their heart.
ML 12/09/1900