Not far from where Cuthbert lived was the monastery of Tiningham, by the mouth of the river Tyne. Some of the monks were bringing down on rafts wood which they had spent a long time felling and sawing up. They were almost opposite the monastery and were just about to draw the wood to the shore, when a great wind came up from the west and drove the rafts out toward the sea. There were five of them, and so quickly did they drift away that it was not more than a few minutes before they began to look in the distance as small as five little birds. Those upon the rafts were in much danger of losing their lives. Those in the monastery came out and prayed upon the shore for them. But the five rafts that now looked like the tiniest of birds went on drifting out to sea. And the populace, which had been heathens very lately, began to jest at the monks because their prayers were in vain. Then said Cuthbert: "Friends, you do wrong to speak evil of those you see hurried away to death. Would it not be better to pray for their safety?" "No!" shouted the people, angrily. "They took away our old worship, and you can see that nothing comes of the new." At this the young Cuthbert began to pray, bowing his head to the ground. And the winds were turned around and brought the rafts in safety to the shore of the monastery. Like David, this boy Cuthbert was very near to God, and one night, while keeping the sheep of his masters, he saw angels descending from heaven. Cuthbert was on a remote mountain with other shepherds, and keeping not only his sheep, but also the vigil of prayer, when a light streamed down from heaven and broke the thick darkness. Then Cuthbert made up his mind to serve God by entering a monastery. One day he was on a journey on horseback when he was not quite fifteen years old. He turned aside to the farmstead which he saw at some distance, and entered the house of a very good woman. He wanted to rest himself. But even more he wanted to get food for his horse. The woman urged him to let her prepare dinner for him. But Cuthbert would not eat, for it was a fast-day. "Consider," said the woman, "that on your journey you will find no village nor habitation of man; for indeed a long journey is before you, nor can you possibly accomplish it before sunset. Wherefore, I beg of you to take some food before setting out, lest you be obliged to fast all day, or perhaps even until to-morrow."