The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1851-11-06

strove TO collect his wandering senses In the
hurricane that had swept over them like the
bosom OF destruction four days before falling
spar had struck him in the breast and shat
tered his right arm from his elbow to his shout
der and the pain and fever attendant upon it
had, to inns great horror, brought on occasion
al paroxysms of delirium. Even more terrible
than all that he had suffered SINCE he left
home-than even the death which visibly, as it
were, sat waiting and watching for them-was
it to that remOrse-stricken boy to hear him
calling so wildly for his mother and Ellen, or
murmuring family of woods and streams and
the sports and occupations Of their happy child
hood!
Grasping rope that dangled from the stump
of mast he steadied himself while he anx-
iously scanned the prospect in every direction.
Then sinking down again. he turned his hol-
low, sunken eyes upon his brothers face, and
for the first time, since the "whooping pillows"
swept their miserable companions from the
wreck, Jim saw them filling with tears. There
was no insanity there then none in his tones,
as, laying his hand upon Jim's, he said, faint
ly-
Listen, JIM am not crazy now, but there
is strange feeling-a faintness here, where
that spar struck me,n and he laid his thin hand
upon his heart Z" that tells me must die. Don't
talk, now,D he went on, seeing Jim about to
speak, but listen to what | say. Last night
thought | saw here-away to the northward
sail said nothing about it then, for thought
| might be mistaken | think caught glimpse
of it just now, but my eyes are too dim to see
clearly; vet | feel certain that God has heard
our mothers prayers, and that before many
hours that sail will be down upon us. IL will
! be too late for me- Jim, and"-
"Oh, Ben, Ben-for PHYS sake, don't talk
so interrupted the sobbing boy. 1T is that
should die! that run away and broke our
mothers hearth
al don't know, brother. | was older than
you, and should have thought more of her hor-
ror of the sea- and less of my own wishes. But
it is too late now You will tell her all this,
Jim, and you must never leave her again. And
there is another to whom you will be kind, for |
my sake For moment the poor fellow |
paused, and the great tears passing from be- |
meath bis closed eveGds told how bitter was the
thought of parting with his betrotfed
Poor Ehep' that nace Of silk that bought !
in Havana was for her wedding dress. 1t must |
90 to the bottom with the old chest and the ship;
but you will tell her about it, jim; tell her |
forgot nothing, and thought Of her till the last
You will say little about the hunger and thirst |
COlu 10 llleUl dI lthSL Ut III Will NC
hard enough for them to bear, without that |
but tell mother that | read her Bible as |
promised, and in my dying hour relied upon its
promises"
There was long pause, broken only by the
heavy, sullen washing of the waves against the
sides of the wreck, and the sobs of the younger
brother.
At length Ben said
"Try to raise yourself JIM and look steadily
to the windward just in the range of that stump
of mast. Do you not see speck, as it were,
in the distance"
"Nothing nothing dear Ben ~ cried the boy
as in despair he sank again by his side.
"There is nothing to be seen, but this terrible
sea-"
"Yet it should be there and if this breeze |
holds, will be down upon us by tomorrow morn
ing" He looked long and anxiously in his
brothers face, rs if there were something that
he wished, yet feared to speak,
"Jmn he said, at length " if it should hap
pen before that time-if should be gone before
! they hail you, you will not be afraid will you?
Afraid of me-"
ooh, Ben, don't-pray don't talk so dread
fully about dying If you die, | shall die tool"
"And you will not let them put me in the
sea without a prayer, brother" he went on with
out minding the interruption; it would make
mother easier to know that her boy was buried
like Christian, though it was in the sea. And
there is another thing jim If you should live
to get home, and ever get money enough, | ,
should like to have you put up little stone
with my name and age upon it, in the grave
yard, by the side of the one we had put up for
father. We picked up walnuts to buy that, you
remember Ellen will help you, and sometimes,
of a Sunday evening, you will go there together
and talk about me-"
Murmuring together, as had been their wont
in childhood that prayer which has comforted so
many sad hearts, Our Father" they stretched
themselves upon the deck, while the night drew
on and for the first time since the storm burst
upon them the moon struggled through the
rifted clouds, and looked down upon their lone
illness. Ben slept at length, but Jim-oh it was
a terrible thing for that young boy to sit there
hour after hour, listening to the eternal washing
of the waves and the hollow grooming of the
wreck as she settled heavily in a trough of sea,
gazing in the CHASTITY face of the sleeper, 40 like
to death that he must needs count the pulses in
the hand which clasped his, to know that life
was still there
He thought he should go mad, but poor Ben's |
voice. murmuring some familiar word, at length |
broke the fearful spell, and toward morning he
too fell asleep, and as if to atone for all these
horrors God sent him happy dream of home
At length he thought he heard his mothers
voice calling him and Ben, as had been her
custom every morning, when the rising sun
beams tipped the tall tree-tops with fire, and
making an effort to spring to his feet he saw
before him, not the sunlit forest, but the tall,
tapering masts of brig that lay at n short
distance rocking on the waves, and heard, not
his mothers voice. but the cheerful hail that
rose from boat that was making towards the
wreck as fast as six well-manned oars could
impel her. With faint answering "halloo!"
he sunk beside his brother, crying
"Ben dear Ben they have come! We are
saved !"
But there was that strange something-that
undefnable but unmistakeable seal upon the
sunken face of the sleeper, that told him, igno-
rant as he was of deaths mysteries, that his
brother would wake no more on earth
Ben Farnham's wishes with regard to his
burial were religiously fulfilled. Captain Forbes
himself read the service for the dead over his
body, and then, soon rs the blue waters had
closed over him forever, they left the dangerous
proximity of the wreck and the seamen unfold
ing her white wings again sped on her course
towards the distant shores Of the Mediterranean
sea
1t was stormy autumn night, The rain
poured in torrents while the wind tore through
the forest as if it had a gageof battle with every
individual tree, irving twisting and uprooting
! them in its wrath, STOPPING even to strip the
humblest bramble that had found shelter be-
meath them of its leaves, while Mt intervals
there came u pause in the wild tumult settled
hush, as if the elements themselves sighed over
the desolation they had made even while they
gathered breath TO renew the combat
Out through the murky darkness cleaned a
faint light from the widows cottage window,
| falling athwart the little footpath and giving In