Alma record. (Alma, Mich.) 1878-1928, 1889-11-15
A DOOMED SHIP.

Out on the broad blue ocean. not FAR
from the equator, thousands OF miles
from any land, lying motionless on a
calm sea, was a disma sted ship. Moth
ing remained of her taunt masts and
spars but the mizzenmast. the bow
spirit and jib and flying jib-booms.
From the mizzen topsail and cross
jack yards hung a few ragged strips OF
canvas, and out at the far ends OF the
flying jib-booms depended part OF the
stay and some fragments Of sail,
torn and rent, just ~ it had been left
after the fierce gale which had render
wreck. Not breath of wind was
stirring in the heavens, not cloud
was in the deep-blue sky; not ripple
or flaw disturbed the far-stretching
ocean. 1t was high noon, and the
sun was almost vertic Il. All was ST.
lent. The sun was pouring down its
fierce tropical rays on the blistered
deck and on the vast. calm sea. There
she lay, n spectral ship upon silent
ocean. There was not sign OF life
on board; not sound could be heard,
except now and again when swirl Of
water made the rudder-chains rattle
and crack, as the wheel moved few
spolses backward and forw rd; or
when an albatross tapped up from the
sea, lowered over the ship, and then
flew away in the distance.
The day passes slowly. as many days
had passed. As the stars appeared.
suddenly there me from the cuddy
window n stream OF light, and man,
/ gaunt and emaciated peered out on to
the deserted deck. A lew minutes
afterward another CLEAN OF light shot
/ from II small aperture in the door of
/ the forecastle deck house, and two
! eyes cruel. reddish-brown eyes-also
pecred cautiously out. These two men
had been for days waiting and watch
ing for each others death. They
were the captain and mate OF the YES
sci, who. when the crew had taken TO
the boats, had refused TO desert her.
For days and weeks-how many they
had no idea, for they had lost all count
of time they had been alone on the
| painless deep. To the torture of hunger
was now added the agony of raging
thirst-a thirst which neither wine
nor brandy would quench, but rather
intensity.
Anything more more horrible than
their situation can not be imagined,
and the dreadful conviction was being
/ forced upon them that they must die.
This was the state of affairs three
days previous to the opening OF this
story. The captain was sitting with
his eyes apparently closed, and the
mate was watching him with eager,
hungry eyes. Up to this point the
mate had been the most hopeful OF the
two; but now he had abandoned himself
to despair.
No succor could reach them, lie
knew, while the calm lasted, but this
was not the thought that was haunting
his mind. Zone Of them must die-the
death of the one would be the preser-
walton of the other" This was the
mental refrain which. as it WERE
formed the chorus TO every other
thought. 1.-The death OF one would be
the preservation OF the other"
He sat there cycling the captain with
n diabolical lecr. He was no longer a
man; he was demon. Suddenly he
started up. BY revulsion of feeling
which is not uncommon in such cases,
he had passed from helpless de-
spondency into furious delirium. With
n hoarse cry he sprang at Capt
Dunnett. brandishing a long knife in
his hand. A fierce struggle ensued; it
was short and sharp, and the mate,
after being disarmed, was pushed for
ward, and fell violently upon the deck.
Capt. Dunnett was the younger and
stronger OF the two, and, had he been
so inclined, could have dispatched the
mate with ease; but he con tented him
self with disarming him, threw the
knife into the sea, retreated to the
cabin and shut and locked the door.
The mate after this grew more furi-
Gus, and after vainly attempting to en-
ter the cabin withdrew TO the fore
castle and took up his abode there;
and now for three days he had been
waiting and watching for the captains
death.
To be buried alive has been thought
to be beyond question the most pain
full of all deaths; but it is doubtful IL
the long-drawn agonies which were
being endured by these two men were
not more painful OF the two.
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