The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1880-10-06

Inc snip steadled as IL the Wlnd nad
ceased. There was no sound greater
than the storm; but, instead, there
seemed to fall suddenly a stiffness. l
ran amidships and grasped for the line
in the dark. 1t was gonel A rush to the
rail. and ali was clear. The strain had
torn out the brace. The mighty pull of
the whale astern had jerked the line
straight, like the cord of a gigantic bow,
and the captain, who had been standing
on the rail, was struck by the flying
rope and thrown senseless far into the
sea.
All this had been seen by the men in
the boat before any one on board had
realized the affair. In less than minute
the cry of "Savedt" reached us from Mr..
Joseph, and, in a shorter time than can
be imagined by landsman, the boat
was hanging from the davits, and the
injured commander was being cared for
in his cabin.
Rum and hard rubbing are the potent
remedies on whaler, and by dint of
these the captain opened his eyes in
quarter of an hour. He had been
stunned, but not seriously injured.
He was amazed at first at seeing the
mate and myself standing over him with
the rum bottle. But without word
he realized the situation.
How is the weather." he asked.
"The wind has gone down." said Mr..
Joseph. "We're under foresail jib and
reefed topsails, and running right away
from the whale"
"GoneP" said the old man.
"Gonei" answered Mr.. Joseph, rue
fully. "Stanchion dragged, and the
line parted, and $4,000 went without an
owner"
''Tell Chips to see to that broken rail-"
said the captain, closing his eyes drows-
lily; =, -,
mate, us he stamped on deck.
| heard him stop at the aiter-hatch,
where the boat-steerers and the carpen-
ter lived, and call "Chipsw two or
three times. At last there was an an
swer in another voice-not Chips; then
a round of hurried feet on deck, shout
down the forecastle, and shout back
in answer. There was no Chips there.
Two minutes after heavy foot came
aft to the cabin stairs, and MIR. Joseph,
with white face entered.
1 knew what he had to tell. kne W
now-just as if had seen it all-who
the tall man was whom / had seen lean
ing against the line.
The captain looked a. the second
| mate.
"Chips is gone, SIR" said the old
sailor, with tremor in his rough voice ;
"Chips was knocked over by the line,
and we've gone four knots since 1t
parted. I've put her about, and we're
running down again"
There was dead silence. We all
knew the search was hopeless. No man
could swim in such sea, and we had q
thought, though no one spoke it, that
brave Chips had been killed by the line
before he touched the water.
All night I've beat about the place
where we thoAght it had occurred. The
wind and sea fell, and the moon came
out in great beauty to help our sad
search. Every man on board stayed
on deck till the sun rose, and then we
looked far and vainly over the heed
| less swell of the sea.
Chips was dead. The rough Portu.
| guese lads found it hard TO believe that
the kind heart and strong hand of their
friend had gone forever. We all knew
that the best man in the ship was taken
away.
Two years afterward, when 1 found
myself in Boston, took from my sacred
things letter which l had found in
Chips chest. 1t was addressed to a
woman, with the name and number of a
Cambridge street. found the place-a
small frame house, with lots of Chips
handiwork around it. His mother met
me at the door, white-haired woman.
She seemed to have been waiting and
watching for somebody. A few words
| told the hopeless story. The letter was
for her, and she read it over-the letter
of her only boy, asking forgiveness for
his one great and only disobedience-
and as she read, the white head bent
/ lower and lower, till it met the thin
hands; and l turned and left the little
room / had darkened, with all its poor
ornaments, useless now, and, as | walked
toward Boston, could not help think
lag that Gods ways are often wofullN
TAR from being our ways.
JOHN BOYLE O'RELLY.