“Our boat was dangerously overcrowded. Already she was half swamped.
I wondered when she would upset. A man on either side seized gratings
and towed them alongside. One made a herculean effort and pulled the
man whose knee I had been holding into our boat, and nearly upset her.
No one said a word. He was an elderly man, and his fat face was white
and piteous. His hands never ceased trembling. He had had a terrible
fright. Some one suggested getting out the oars, and others said it was
impossible, as they were underneath us all. However, it was managed,
and several men stood up and changed places. Again we nearly upset.
I joined with the others in commanding these wild folk to sit still.
Three oars were produced. One was given to a young and sickly looking
Frenchman opposite to me. He did not know how to use it. Everyone
shouted to get away from the steamer. The water had now reached my
knees, and I began to notice how cold it was.
“I saw three other women in the boat. They sat together, white and
silent, in the stern, nor ever moved. They were French women. Some one
noticed that the water was increasing and there was a wild hullabaloo
of alarm. A Belgian—the man who had pulled into the boat the man whose
knee I held—called for hats with which to bale, setting the example
with his. But we were so tightly packed that no one could get at
the water, whereupon the Belgian climbed overboard on to one of the
gratings I have already mentioned, and a young Belgian soldier followed
his example on the other side. They held on to our gunwale with their
fingers. This somewhat relieved the congestion, enabling us to bail.
[Illustration:
_Drawn by Joseph Cummings Chase._