Along this way the men could pass to and fro at all tides, and during any time of the day or night.

This was a matter of great importance, as the men were no longer so dependent on tides as they had been, and could often work as long as their strength held out.

Although the work was regular, and, as some might imagine, rather monotonous, there were not wanting accidents and incidents to enliven the routine of daily duty.  The landing of the boats in rough weather with stones, &c., was a never-failing source of anxiety, alarm, and occasionally amusement.  Strangers sometimes visited the rock, too, but these visits were few and far between.

Accidents were much less frequent, however, than might have been expected in a work of the kind.  It was quite an event, something to talk about for days afterwards, when poor John Bonnyman, one of the masons, lost a finger.  The balance crane was the cause of this accident.  We may remark, in passing, that this balance crane was a very peculiar and clever contrivance, which deserves a little notice.

It may not have occurred to readers who are unacquainted with mechanics that the raising of ponderous stones to a great height is not an easy matter.  As long as the lighthouse was low, cranes were easily raised on the rock, but when it became too high for the cranes to reach their heads up to the top of the tower, what was to be done?  Block-tackles could not be fastened to the skies!  Scaffolding in such a situation would not have survived a moderate gale.

In these circumstances Mr. Stevenson constructed a balance crane, which was fixed in the centre of the tower, and so arranged that it could be raised along with the rising works.  This crane resembled a cross in form.  At one arm was hung a movable weight, which could be run out to its extremity, or fixed at any part of it.  The other arm was the one by means of which the stones were hoisted.  When a stone had to be raised; its weight was ascertained, and the movable weight was so fixed as exactly to counterbalance it.  By this simple contrivance all the cumbrous and troublesome machinery of long guys and bracing-chains extending from the crane to the rock below were avoided.

Well, Bonnyman was attending to the working of the crane, and directing the lowering of a stone into its place, when he inadvertently laid his left hand on a part of the machinery where it was brought into contact with the chain, which passed over his forefinger, and cut it so nearly off that it was left hanging by a mere shred of skin.  The poor man was at once sent off in a fast rowing boat to Arbroath, where the finger was removed and properly dressed.[1]

[Footnote 1:  It is right to state that this man afterwards obtained a lightkeeper’s situation from the Board of Commissioners of Northern Lights, who seem to hare taken a kindly interest in all their servants, especially those of them who had suffered in the service.]