The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1888-07-08
ONE SUNDAY AT SEA.
Receiving the News of Lin
coins Assassination.
ASLOW VESSEL IN MID-OCEAN
1.-THE War is Over-Lincoln Killed
JEFF Ran Away With the
Money"

In the month OF July, 1865, the bark
Westward RO, on which l was a boy
before the mast, says writer in the
Buffalo Courier, was on the Atlantic
Ocean, homeward bound. Ofone Sunday
morning in that period have vivid
remembrance, though for sufficient
reasons | kept no log. We were about
in the latitude of the most northerly
part of Brazil. After rounding the
Cape of Storms, we had early struck
the southeast trades, strong and steady,
and made glorious run while we held
them, never starting a sheet for 1000
miles or more, but booming along
through the rolling waves, under azure
skies, with their sunlit fringe of the
trade wind clouds, myrlads of tireless
cape pigeons, albatrosses and gulIs
keeping our company and adding ami
nation to the bright scene. That was
an exhiIarating stretch of sailing, al
though our heavily-laden craft was, at
her best no racer and was good for no
more than ten knots, even when we
crowded on sail until the strained spars
threatened to snap. The grand squirt
over and the trades lost, there was 8
repetition of the wearisome old story of
adverse gales and tropical Gains with
which the protracted voyage had been
persistently attended, to the diminu-
ton of the owners profits, no doubt,
and certainly not to the Improvement
of our officers temper. That morning,
however, we were again keeping to our
course.
Meanwhile, black something directly
astern, which became more clearly de-
fined as the light increased, had enlisted
attention from its first discovery by the
sharp eyes of the first mate, Mr.. Sher-
burne. The something was vessel,
and presently could be made out as fol-
lowing directly in our wake, and rapidly
oVerhauling US. After a while Mr..
and call the captain" In the sacred
precinct of the brightly-varnished
cabin l made my way. and to the "old
mans" state room. The captain, with
the crew, would still be the "old man."
even should he chance to be the young
est man on toard. l spoke to him and
he was awake in an instant. Captain
Walter F. Williams, a gray-haired,
stout built New Yorker, demanded to
know what was up.
IA ship overhauling US, sir, and will
soon pass US, close aboard"
"All right" was the reply. He was
on deck in very few minutes.
The chase quickly neared, and it was
evident that she would pass close to the
leeWard. The Westward 10. loaded
down almost to her wales with cargo
OF rice from farther Indis, WallQWed
and struggled through the sea. The
stranger ship, which now revealed her
self full rugged and much larger, had
a far more buoyant freight,
fer she showed a high side out of water
and rode with comparative ease over the |
waves.
1t was after seven bells when she
came within hailing distance, and all
our crew were on deck Watching the
stranger with varying degrees Of Curl
osity.
What was the news from home? |
How was the great war progressing, or
had it ended2 Intensely interesting to |
me were these questions. In India |
had heard of the re election of Lincoln. |
At the Mauritias. where we put in to
mend a breakag9 of hurricane, no !
news was had, or at least none that |
reached my ears. The captain was
wild with eagerness for
int ligence. In his black rubber coat |
and sou'wester, he steadied himself on
the wet and heaving deck with knee |
against the port rail and hand grasp
ing one of the miZZen shrouds. With |
the other hand he held trumpet.
ship ahoy!" he roared through the
brass trumpet.
A man on the quarterback of the
Catherine likewise put a trumpet to his
mouth, and we could see the muscular
action of his face and throat, but not a
sound came to US, for we were dead to
wlndward. The bulls of Bashan could
not have beloved successfully against
the stiff breeze. We could commupi-
cate matters of no particular interest
to him, but the captain of the Catherine,
who was for US mine of news, was
powerless to gives US anything. Neither
vessel had the hag-signal system.
Our captain bawled to him that we
were withr1ce from Rangoon, Burmah, to
New York; that we were long time
out ard had heard nothing from Amer
lea for nearly five months, and old news
then; gave him our longitude, asked
him to report US at New York, and
yelled and yelled for intelligence about
the great civil conflict, which the other
captain with a trumpet threatened to
split has windpipe in the effort to give,
but couldn't. This might not last long.
Each craft was keeping exactly to her
course. The Catherine was leaving us.
Her master was willing TO tell what he
knew, but had no disposition to shorten
sail for the pleasure of our slow-geing
company. But an idea had seized that
other captain. He tossed away his
trumpet and we witnessed some quick
pantomine. Then in a few moments a
mariner, probably one of the mates, got
nimbly out over the rail, with his feet
on the vale and hand on the rail top
and we saw that he had slung to his
waist paint-pot. 1t was hard job
for him to hold on in that fashion, so
hard was the ships motion, let alone
doing anything else, but be was too
much of a grampus to let that get the
best of him, and slowly crept forward,
using brush and white paint as he
went, q row of heads showing over the
rail to watch his performance, while our
whole crew looked on with closest at
tention.
One by one great uncouth white let
tiers appeared on the ships black side.