The Somerset press. [volume] (Somerset, Ohio) 1873-1977, 1879-03-27
OUR STORY TELLER
TWICE BURIED.

TWICE BURIED. /
What am about 10 relate, incredible
as it may seem, is perfectly true, and oc-
Cured some years ago ON board ship |
in which i was then serving my time. |
We we're thirty.fve or forty days from
home, had crossed the line, and were |
getting the first of the southeast trade |
when our second mate began to break |
down. he had Joined the vessel in bad |
health, but seemed to get better in the |
tropics; and now he felt himself grad |
ually sinking. There was no doctor on |
board, our ship not carrying passengers
that voyage; but it was easy to see that |
he was in rapid decline. How sorry we
all we're! Everybody liked him-a
kind, considerate officer; a cool, skill
ful seaman, somewhat reserved perhaps,
but not cold; never asking any one to
perform a disagreeable or dangerous
duty without lending a hand himself.
And there he lay dying-so young,
handsome, strong. Oh, 1t seemed very
hard The song and laugh were hushed
around the deck, our steps fell light as
we passed over his head, and often
through the watchesone of us youngsters
would look in to see if Mr.. Linden
wanted anything, sometimes coming out
pale and scared; he looked SO white
and still We knew not was it sleep or
death.
We had passed the Cape of Storms,
and were now far down in the region of
mists and snow, where the vast ice is
lands wander in lonely, awful grandeur,
and fierce westerly winds howled after
US as we few along in our eastern
course to Australia. One night, wild
and dark, with every appearance of a
heavy storm at hand, was passing the
second mates berth when heard his
feeble voice calling after me. He was
sitting up In his bunk hardly able To
speak, his lips dry and burning. / ran
of to fetch him a drink. Alasl there
was nothing to be got but water, thick
and reddish, from the ships iron tanks.
Bad as it was, he drank it eagerly, and
becoming more composed, lay down,
still keeping hold of my hand. Then his
mind seemed to wander back to the
days of his childhood, back to happier
times, when, with the girl he loved, he
strsyed through sweet country lanes,
and all was peace and rest. While in
sobbed through the rigging like some
living thing In pain, and mems steps
hurrying along the decks preparing for
the battle that must soon be fought. At
last the cloud passed from his mind, and
ne turned to me, grasping my hand
tightly, and spoke of his mother and
sister and that other one whom he would
never see again. Without him they
would be alone in the world. Lovingly,
lingeringly he dwelt on them till he
made me cry like child. Then he lay
back with his head on my arm, and
gradually passed away to the better
land.
We could not bury him that night. 1t
was fierce struggle all the time to
shorten sail; for nearly five hours we
were all on the foreyard, trying to furl
the foresail, which was blown to pieces
in the end. At last morning broke on
the mad, raging sea. The sailmaker
sewed bag of canvas around the corpse /;
We placed two ten pound shot at his feet ;
the seas were breaking too heavily on
the main deck, so we carried him ten
derly up on the poop. Never shall
forget the burial scene. The black
lowering sky, the ship under close reefed
top sails flying for her life from the pur-
suing snowy crested billows. Near her
stern all hands were grouped, the wind
blowing the cid captains gray hair
wildly about, the rain and hail beating
on our barred heads, and pattering on
the deck like q thousand feet; the solemn
faces stern and sad /; and on the wheel
grating lay all that was left of the man
whom we loved. The,captain read few
lines till something seemed to choke
him; he pointed over the stern, and
turned away. a dull splash was heard
Like men in dream we gazed at the
spot as sea broke over it. / fancied
saw 1t gyrating little, then slowly de
scending, end first, through the quiet
depths; and in imagination could be
hold strange monsters sweeping towarC
it. regarding it with their duh eyes a
something yet more strange than them.
selves, still going down, past the region
OF ocean life, slower and slower, till a
last, balanced by the pressure of waters
it ceased to descend, standing in tn,
soundless, moveless depth like Mo
hammed's coffin, floating between sur
face and bottom.
On few the vessel, till many a mil,
lay between US and that sad spot on tn,
lonely deep. But change was comm,
round by the southwark: the wint
hauled to the eastward, and before darl
we were hove TO, the wind blowing from
the eastward and northward a perfec
hurricane. At about two bells (on
o'clock) in the middle, King (my mess
mate) and myself were standing on tn
poop, in the lee of the mizzen mast
watching the seas as they broke on tn
main deck, trying to distinguish object
by the garish light of the white foam
Occasionally pale lightning fas
showed the wild waters around us, tb
laboring ship seemed to sweep the ink
sky with her mast heads; scene to u
youngsters indescribably terrible. Tn
third mate was ON watch, he was stanG
ing over to windward, stern and silen
The dead man and he had been clos
friends. They had wandered over th
world together for years, and he SCENE
TO feel his loss deeply. Suddenly W
heard his voice: Go for ard, one of yol
and see if the lookout is all right.
Rather disagreeable duty; for thoug
the rain and spray had wet us throug
already, yet the water in our cloth'
was warm by this time; and going alor
that main deck exposed us to the pro-
ability of fresh supply of colder ter