bleeding, and utterly exhausted, I got to my feet, and we made for the
next boat. The press about her was not so great, and we managed to make
way against it. It was the last boat, and the remaining few men left
aboard were not enough to hold us. Among them were some passengers,
whom we got aboard--four of them--and then finally sent the boat down
clear. I looked around for the girl. Two women were in the boat, and
the second officer said there was another aboard. I was out of breath,
and stood panting a few moments, gazing aft through the bloom of the
evening trying to see what had become of that girl. She was not in
sight. I remembered she was near the other boat.
"I'll run aft and try to find her," I yelled, and rushed down the deck.
At the door of the saloon I saw a form huddled up on a transom just
inside.
"Come," I called roughly; "come along, quick--the boat's waiting."
"Oh, it's you," she said; and I saw it was the girl I was looking for.
She sat up. "Did you ever see such brutes?"
"Never mind that now. Get a move on--the boat won't wait."
As I spoke, I felt the ship drop suddenly forward. I turned quickly,
and gazed forward. It was almost dark now; but I could see the white
surge burst over the forecastle head.
"She's going," I yelled, and grabbed the girl.
A great sea crashed against the house, bursting it in, roaring,
smashing, and pouring like a Niagara into the saloon. The deck forward
had gone under, the stern was rising high in the air, and the slanting
deck told me there was not a second to lose.
The girl sprang up, and we dashed together to the taffrail, which was
now fully twenty feet above the sea. There was nothing below but that
life raft, the boats had gone to leeward to keep clear. Without a
moment's hesitation, I dropped the girl into the sea, and sprang after
her.
Hampered with my ragged clothes and oilskins, I could hardly swim a
stroke. A rushing comber struck me, and I felt myself going down,
unable to fight any longer. My breath was gone.
When I came to I was lying upon the life raft, and the girl was
clinging to me with one hand, and passing one of the lashings of the
raft with the other. It was black dark. Only the rushing seas about me
told of our whereabouts; and the wild flings of the raft as it swept
along with the rush made me aware of the present. I tried to see,
raised my head, and felt very weak.
"How'd we get here?" I asked.
"I grabbed you and pulled you up," she said simply. "You were hit on
the head by it--better tie yourself fast with that piece of cord, I
can't hold you any longer."
I took a few turns of the side lashings of the raft about our bodies,
and, as the seas washed us, I noticed that the water felt so much
warmer than the air. We were clear of the sea a few inches, but each
comber dashed over and soaked us, washing so heavily that it was
necessary to hold one's head up in order to breathe freely.
"Did you see the boats?" I asked. "They'll pick us up presently."
"No; I couldn't see anything. I had all I could do to pull you on the
raft. You're pretty heavy, you know. Then I had to hold you for what
seemed an hour, but maybe was only a few minutes. Do you think they'll
find us?"
"Sure. They wouldn't leave us. Ship went down, didn't it--rather
sudden, and they had to let go. My men will stand by if it takes all
night," I said.
"I sincerely hope you are right about it. I don't much fancy this raft
for a place to spend the night. Will we be drowned on it, do you think?"
"No fear; we're all right. It can't sink. All we have to do is to keep
a lookout for a boat and sing out for help. Why, there's five boats
altogether, counting ours. Five boats, and it's just dark, not after
six or seven o'clock at the most."
"How far from land are we?" she asked, seemingly cheered but still
somewhat doubtful.
"Not far," I lied. I thought of a hundred and fifty miles of floating
to get in--if the boats didn't pick us up. I began to experience that
sinking feeling that comes to many when the outlook seems pretty bad.
The girl was silent for some time after this, and seemed to be thinking
of her troubles, for once she gave a little gasp of complaint.
"Cheer up," I said; "don't give way to it yet. We'll be all right soon."
As the hours passed and no boat come near, I began to feel very
nervous. I could see but a few fathoms distant, and knew the chances
were growing less and less. I hailed the blackness, bawled out as loud
as I could, keeping it up at minute intervals. The wind seemed to be
going down, but the sea still ran quickly, and was high and strong,
lifting the raft skyward at each roll, and then dropping it down gently
into the hollow trough. We felt the wind only when on the top of the
seas, and it chilled us; but the warm edge of the Gulf Stream soaked
us, and we could stand it for a long time. The sea was as warm as milk.
How that long night passed I don't know. It seemed like eternity.
Several times I lost consciousness, whether from exhaustion or from the
blow I had received upon the head I cannot say. I held to the girl,
and together we stood it out. Our lashings kept us upon the piece of
platform remaining upon the two hollow iron cylinders comprising the
raft.
The girl lost her power of speech some time during the night, and
seemed to faint, her head dropping upon the slats of the platform.
I held it up to keep the water from her nose and mouth, and finally
propped her head so that little water broke over it. It was all I could
do.
The raft swung around and around, sometimes with the sea on one side
and then with it upon another. I felt for the oarlock, which is usually
placed at either end to steer by, but it was gone. So also were the
oars that had been placed between the cylinders and the platform. We
simply had a float, that kept us bodily out of the sea, and that was
all.
After hours and hours of this wild pitching and rushing upon the crests
of high, rolling seas, the motion began to get easier, and I noticed
that the wind was rapidly falling. The crests no longer broke with the
furious rush and tumble as formerly. Then the gray light of dawn came,
and I began to see about us.
The form of the girl lay alongside me, lashed to the platform. Her hair
trailed into the sea in long tresses from her head, and her face was
white as chalk. I thought she was dead, and shook her to see if there
was any life to stir up. She lay limp. I took her hand and felt the
wrist. A slight pulse told of the vital spark still burning. It seemed
brutal to arouse her, to bring her back to the horror of her position.
But I felt that it was best. I called to her, and she finally opened
her eyes. She shivered, placed one arm under her, and then raised
herself painfully into a sitting posture.
"Cut the cord around my wrist, will you, please?" she said. "I promise
not to fall off."
"Better let it stay," I said. "I'll loose it so you can move about a
little. Seems like they missed us in the dark."
"Well, do you still think they'll pick us up? See; it's light now, the
sun is coming up. I don't know as I care very much. Do you?"
"Sure I care. Why not? We'll be all right soon."
She let her head fall forward, and gave a little sob; just a bit of a
cry.
"Well, then I'm glad I pulled you out of the water," she said. "Seems
like we might just as well have gone during the night. Do you really
think it's worth struggling for like this? Life is good--and I want to
live--but this is too hard--too terrible--and my poor mother----"
"We'll be picked up before breakfast, sure," I said. "The boats must
have drifted just the same as ourselves. Something'll come along soon."
And yet deep down in me I knew that this was a bare chance. We were out
of the track of ships, well off shore for the coasters, and not far
enough for the Bermuda ships, like the _Rathbone_, which had stopped at
the island on her way north.
The sun rose, and daylight broadened into the morning. The wind fell
rapidly, and the sea began to get that easy run of the Atlantic when
undisturbed. I loosened my lashings and stood up, gazing about us.
The motion of the raft was still severe; but I could stand, balancing
myself. I shivered and shook with the wet and cold; but I now felt that
with the sun shining we would soon be in better straits. As the raft
rose upon the swells I looked all around the horizon. But there was
nothing; not a thing save the sea in sight.
"You can't see anything?" The girl's voice sounded strange, querulous,
and pitiful. She was sitting with her head bowed upon her hands, which
rested on her knees. Her wet dress clung to her, and she looked very
frail, very delicate.
"No; I can't see anything yet," I answered; "but we'll sight something
before long. Tell me, were you from Bermuda?"
"Yes; I was visiting my aunt there," she said. "I just graduated from
the convent of the Sacred Cross last month. I've never been anywhere,
or seen anyone, until this year. My mother is the only other near
relative I have living."
"Well, you've made a good start seeing things," said I, trying to smile
at her. She turned a little pink, just flushed a bit; but it gave her
white face a more natural look. She was a very pretty girl.
"How old are you?" I asked.
"Eighteen. Why?"
"Oh, nothing, only----"
I felt like a fool. Why should I bother this child about her age? She
had saved my life by dragging me upon the raft, and I would save hers,
if possible. It produced a feeling in me I could not quite understand.
I liked to hear her talk, to have her look at me. She was very pretty;
a good, innocent young girl.
"I could eat a house, roof, and foundation," I ventured finally,
seating myself. The wash of the sea now hardly reached us, and we were
drying out fast in the cool breeze and sunshine.
"Yes; I could eat a ship, masts, and spars," I went on.
"Well, I suppose I'll be tough enough," she said, glancing at me with
some show of fear in her eyes. "I once read of men on a raft who ate
each other; but I never thought it would be my turn. No, never."
"Don't be absurd," I said. "I don't intend to eat you--not yet."
She looked at me very hard. Her eyes were moist; big, lustrous eyes.
"No," she said seriously, "I don't believe you will," and she put her
hand in mine.
"Aw, don't be frightened, kid," I said. "I may look like the devil, but
I'm not."
And I sat there like an idiot holding that girl's hand, while the sun
rose and shone warmer and warmer upon us, drying our garments and
cheering us wonderfully. I had never met a girl of this kind before;
and it was something of a problem how I was to keep her alive and
cheerful on that raft. I swore fiercely at Jake, at Jones, and the rest
for leaving us adrift. My oaths were something strange to the girl, for
she shivered and drew her hand away.
"Please don't," she said quietly. "What good does it do to use such
language?"
"Eases me a lot, miss. What's your name?"
"Alice Trueman."
I mumbled the name a few times, then relapsed into silence. After that
there was nothing more said for a long time; but I saw her looking at
me at intervals. Evidently I was an animal she was not used to, and I
wondered at a mother who would bring up a girl to view a man as such a
terrible sort of creature. I was a rough sailor; but I was human.
The day advanced and the wind fell to a gentle breath. Then it became
quite still, a dead calm, while the swell rolled steadily in from the
eastward, but smoothed out into long, easy hills and hollows, upon
which the raft rode easily and the platform kept clear of the sea at
last.
We took turns standing up and looking about the surrounding waste
to see if there were any signs of a ship. Nothing showed upon the
horizon, and the day wore down to evening. We were both very hungry
and thirsty. I knew that the limit would soon be reached if there were
nothing to eat or drink. The sun was now warm, and we ceased shivering
as it settled in the west. The darkness of the night came on with its
terrors, and still there was no sign of help from anywhere.
"I really don't think I can stand it any longer, captain," said the
girl.
"I'm not the captain--just the mate," I answered; "but you'll have to
stick it out for the night."
Miss Alice gave a little sob. "I'm _so_ hungry and thirsty," she
wailed. And added plaintively: "I've never been hungry in my life
before."
"Probably not," I said, sitting close to her and taking her hand in
mine again. She made no resistance, and I passed my arm about her.
"You must remember you've seen very little of the world yet. I've been
hungry often--expect to be again before I go."
"You see, I've had everything in the world I wanted. My father died
very rich--and I can't stand the things people can who are used to
them," she lamented.
"Cheer up," I said. "While there's life there's hope, you know."
She gave a little sigh, and let her head fall back upon my shoulder.
And so we sat there in the growing darkness, together upon a raft in
the middle of the Atlantic. As I look back upon it, there seems to be a
bit of sentiment lacking. I felt nothing but pity for the girl at the
time. I wasn't the least unhappy. I wasn't the least disturbed, except
that hunger was gnawing at me and the fear the girl would die there.
Personally I was not displeased with the position. Such is youth.
"Alice," I said finally, "I find a lot of comfort in you being here
with me, but I honestly believe I could stand it better if you were
safe ashore. You've been a mighty brave little companion though."
She gave my hand a bit of a squeeze, and sighed like a tired child.
Then she closed her eyes.
I was aroused by a hail.
"Hey, there, aboard the raft!" came a yell from the darkness.
"Boat, ahoy!" I howled, in desperation, hardly believing my ears.
"Stand by and catch the line," came the yell again, and I jumped up and
stared into the gloom.
A dark spot showed close aboard. The sound of oars came over the water.
A man's voice hailed again, and I recognized Jones, my bow oarsman.
"Mr. Garnett----Is it you?" he cried; and a line came hurtling across
the platform, striking me in the face. I seized it, snatched a turn
upon one of the slats of the platform. The boat came alongside, while
they held her off with the oars and boat hook.
"A girl--one of the passengers, hey?" asked Jones. "Climb aboard, sir,
and we'll take her in all safe enough."
Wilson and Jones sprang upon the platform, and helped me lift the girl
to her feet. She opened her eyes at the motion, and gave a cry of joy.
"I'm so glad!" she said, and fainted dead away, while we placed her in
the stern of the whaleboat.
"Water, in the name of Heaven!" I panted. "You cowards! Why did you
leave us?"
"Hunted for you, sir, all night," said Jones, getting at the water
breaker and measuring out a full quart. I held it to the lips of the
girl, and she revived enough to drink part of it. I drank the rest, and
drew another measure, drinking it off in a gulp.
"Grub," I said, without further ado; and, while they shoved clear of
the raft, I took a share of the ship's biscuit, eating ravenously.
"Sit up and chew a bit of bread," I said to Miss Alice.
She raised herself with an effort, and soon recovered sufficiently to
eat something. Then she nestled close to me, let her head fall again
upon my shoulder, and went to sleep like a tired child.
We were heading almost due west for the coast now, and could not be
very far away from coastwise traffic. I felt that the end would soon
come, and that we would be picked up.
Before midnight a light showed ahead. It was a steamer's headlight, and
I soon made out her green light, showing she was heading north, inside
of us. We would pass very close.
"Give way strong; give way together. Let's get out of this," I said;
and the men set to the oars.
The light grew brighter, the green still showing. Soon the black form
of the ship's hull showed through the gloom, her masthead light now
looming high in the air, and her side light close aboard. We were
drawing in, and I stood up and bawled out for help. The black bulk of
her hull towered over us, and for an instant it seemed that she would
run us down.
"Hold--back water--hold hard!" I yelled, and the men obeyed.
The ship tore past us, the foam of her bow wave splashing into the
boat. I roared out curses upon the men above in her. Then she went on
into the night. I howled, swore at her, called her skipper every name
I could devise. The men seconded me, and together we called down enough
curses upon that ship to have sunk her. Suddenly she seemed to slow up,
to stop, and then lay dead in the gloom.
"Row, you bullies, row for your lives!" I yelled; and the men gave
their last spurt, putting their remaining strength into the pull. We
drew closer, and a voice hailed us from the ship.
"Ship ahoy!" I called again. "Throw us a line and stand by to pick us
up."
We came alongside. A line was dropped down, and Jones seized it,
snatched a turn, and we were fast. The ship was wallowing slowly ahead;
but we hung alongside safe enough.
"Pass down a bowline," I sang out; "and be quick about it."
The line came down into the boat, and I slipped it over the head of
Miss Alice Trueman, jamming it under her arms.
"H'ist away on deck," I directed; and the girl went aloft. The rest of
us came one after the other.
"I can't take your boat, sir," said the captain; "haven't any room."
"Forget the boat. Give me something to eat and drink, and a place to
lie down for a few weeks," I said, and I was led below.
* * * * *
Two days later we were at the dock in New York. I had not seen Alice
since she had been turned over to the care of the stewardess; but I
waited for her to come on deck. She came, pale but self-possessed.
She was still weak, but was now nearly recovered. The ship was being
warped to the pier, and it would be a few minutes before we could leave
her. I came up and held out my hand.
"Well," I said, "Alice, how about it? You were a good companion in
trouble, a brave shipmate in the face of terrible danger. Somehow it
has drawn me to you. I want to see you again."
"Always, Mr. Garnett; always will I be glad to see you--but do you
think it wise under the circumstances? Don't you think we had better
say good-by now? It will only be more difficult later on. You know what
I mean----"
She looked up at me with moist eyes--eyes that told so much. I was
taken all aback; but I understood. I was only a sailorman, a mate of
a sailing ship. She was an heiress--a lady, as they say, educated and
refined. She couldn't make me what she knew I would have to be to
retain her respect and love, the love she would want to give. It was
for my own good she was saying good-by. Yes, I believe she meant it
only for that.
"Sure, girl, I was only fooling," I said, with my throat choking so
that the blamed ship reeled and swung about me.
"Believe me, it's best so," she whispered, looking at me strangely with
eyes now full of tears. She held out her hand, raised her head, put up
her lips.
"Kiss me good-by. You were awful good to me. Good-by."
I felt that kiss burn my lips for many a day--yes, for a long time.
THE AFTER BULKHEAD
After coming home from the East I had, like many other ship's officers,
taken up steam. There was more in it than the old wind-jammers, and the
runs were short in comparison. It was not long before I went in the
Prince Line, as they needed navigators badly.
I was chief mate of the liner, and it was my unpleasant duty to do
about everything. Old Man Hall, captain and R. N. R. man, did little
beside working the ship's position after we got to sea. Ashore, he left
everything to Mr. Small and myself, as far as the ship was concerned,
and if there were a piece of frayed line, a bit of paint chafed, we
heard all about it within two hours after he came aboard.
Small was second under me, while the third and fourth officers were
hardly more than apprentices, both being for the first time in the ship
and not more than twenty-one or two years of age.
Captain Hall was nearly seventy, and somewhat decrepit, but he was an
accurate navigator, and had kept his record clean, making one hundred
runs across the Western Ocean without accident. Masters of merchantmen
are good or bad, according to their records, according to their
reputations. Some said Hall had excellent luck. But, anyway, he was a
good man, a fair-minded skipper, and he always brought in his ship on
schedule, which was saying a good deal, for the Prince Line steamers
were not noted for keeping close to time--any old time was good enough
for most of them until the _Prince Gregory_, of twenty thousand tons,
came along and made the lubbers look up a bit.
She was the largest ship of the fleet--which comprised ten good
steamers--and she was fitted with all the modern conveniences, from
telephones to wireless, had a swimming pool, barber shop, gymnasium,
café, and elevators to the hurricane deck.
With only four watch officers, and six cadets, who were about as useful
as a false keel on a trunk, I had enough to do before clearing.
The chief engineer was an American, for a wonder, and his six
assistants, including donkey man, were Liverpool cockneys. They drove a
swarm of fire rats and coal passers that would have made a seaman crazy
in two days, but Smith took things easy below, and, although he had to
push her to keep the new record, he let his assistants do the heavy
work. That's the reason he grew so fat--grew fat and even-tempered,
while poor Small and myself sweated out our lives after the usual
routine.
We had forty men in the crew, and needed more, for we often had a
thousand emigrants in the steerage. Sometimes we carried bunches of
those big chaps from the European forests, Lithuanians, strong, sturdy
brutes, totally without sense.
It was in December that we took over five hundred of them on board, and
while I was polite as possible, I put Small wise to keep a lookout on
the critters. They were miners, for the most part. Contract men, going
to the mines in Pennsylvania.
By some means a quantity of their baggage got below with that of the
cabin passengers. We had a lot of cabin folks that voyage. There was
a bunch of actors, men and women you hear at the opera, drummers
galore, buyers who were coming home from the fall trading, several
millionaires; and, among the society or upper-strata people, the ones
without occupation to give them distinction, were the Lady Amadoun and
her following.
Lady Amadoun was American born, but French by adoption, or, rather,
marriage, preferring in her youth the suave manners of older
generations to the rougher ones of her own countrymen. Raoul, Vicomte
Amadoun, her husband, had not turned out the soft and gentle creature
he appeared before marriage. In fact, he had followed the usual
time-worn game of demanding money at unusual crises, which, as you
know, has a tendency to make intelligent women think twice before
coming across with it. The Vicomtesse Amadoun, or countess, as they
called her, was young; in fact, looked hardly twenty-five--but, of
course, a countess has maids to fix her up a bit!
You see, being first officer, and sitting at the head of my own table
in the saloon, the countess came under my observation more than I
intended. Old Hall had his own cronies, who sat with him, and Driggs,
the steward, gave the most prominent passenger my right-hand seat--sort
of compliment. Driggs was a good steward, and owed his place to my
exertions in his behalf.
It was about this confounded baggage that I had a chance to further
acquaint myself with nobility, for the trunks of the countess--and she
had about fifty, including those of her friends who came with her--got
mixed with the stuff that the baggage-master had sent by mistake to the
first-class baggage room--the unlovely dunnage of the human moles who
were roosting low in the steerage, and paying two pounds sterling a
head for the privilege.
"I would take it as a great favor if you would allow me to get into my
baggage by to-morrow at the latest," said the countess, beaming upon me
from the adjacent seat at my table at dinner that day. "You see, we've
been all over Europe, and while traveling through Russia I picked up
some very pretty furs, which will be nice to use on deck during this
cool sea weather."
"Madam," said I, "I shall be at your service right after eight bells
to-morrow, when I leave the bridge." So I warned the baggage man,
below, to have the place cleaned out a mite, so that her ladyship
could go below without getting her frock spoiled from contact with the
steerage passengers or their belongings.
To be sure that he would do my bidding--he belonged to the purser's
force--I went below that morning, and looked the baggage over myself.
I passed in through the steerage, and noted the men stowed there. Two
big brutes of Lithuanians sat upon their dunnage, and jabbered in their
language.