Tombstone epitaph., 1890-02-15
DEATH BY DROWNING.
AnSAuthor Graphically Describes How ft
 Feels to Drown.

An%Author Graphically Describes How H
 Feels to Drown.
 The ship was the Sir George Pollock, Captain Writers, bound from London to Lyttelton, New Zealand. We were about 1000 miles south of the Cape of Good Hope, very cold latitude in the month of October. I was saloon pas senger and had been fishing for alba trosses and mollymocks over the stern with long line and hooks baited with salt pork all the morning. About mid day we went down to dinner, but I, be- ing anxious to catch bird, made hur- ried meal and hastened back on deck The Sir George Pollock was an old fashioned ship with high poop, and, as we had COWS on board, mum Der of trusses of hay had been lashed to the stern taffrail, where they were less liable to be wetted by the sea than elsewhere. When I got on the poop, no one else being there but the man at the wheel, found my line had got entangled with the rudder. I climbed on to one of the trusses of hay with the intention of casting the line loose, and was leaning down to do so when the ship gave pitch. lost my balance and fell plump into the sea. From where I was perched on the hay to the water, as the ship rose on the wave, was clear drop of twenty feet or more, and as fell flat on my chest the wind was knocked out of me and I was half stunned for the moment.
 When came to myself I was floating pretty comfortably, my thick woolen clothes supporting me, and my wide awake hat floating by my side. There was heavy swell, and as rose to the crest of wave I saw the ship, looking very small, as if she were already long way off. I noticed, however, that she was hove to, and I felt sure then that I should be picked up. My only fear was that the albatrosses might sweep down upon me and kill me with their terrible beaks, as they had the carpenter of the same ship the voyage before. A long time passed-hours, it seemed to me and my clothes having become soaked hoated low in the water and could no longer empty my mouth fast enough to get breath or keep the ship in sight. Every wave that came sank me deeper and made me swallow more water. I be- gan to feel deadly cold and thought it was all over with me. could not help blaming my friends on the ship for their cruelty in letting me drown, when they might so easily have sent boat for me, but I forgave them and said my prayers to myself. All could do now could not keep my head above water, and at last saw it green over my eyes as I looked up, my head swan round and thought l was going to sleep. l was aroused by something touching me, forcing me down in the water, and then dragging me out altogether, and the next thing I knew I was among men who were talking, though could not understand them for the rushing and whizzing'in my ears.
 The first words I understood were something about handing me up," and at the same time I felt myself being lifted up the ships side and seized by number of arms. Then my clothes seemed to come of all at once-they had been cut of by the doctor with sharp knife-and then I felt warmth all over me. Soon I knew that I was lying in warm blankets with hot bottles under my arm-pits and feet. I could hear voices round me and knew what they said, and 1 could feel hands rubbing my limbs and turning me about. But I could not speak or move or show any sign of life, and in my inside still felt SO cold thought I must die. At length I felt something very hot in my mouth, and I gulped and it went down my throat. It came again and again and warmed me and made me feel better, though fearfully sick. Then I felt terrible pricking and twitching-like 'pins and needles" when your foot has gone to sleep-all over me. After that got drowsy, and the next thing re- member was lying in my own berth with my father and sister sitting by me. l was still very weak and l had very bad cough, but was out of danger and fast recovering. Two days later the children in the saloon, who were all great friends of mine, were allowed to come and see me and bring me little presents they had ready for me, and in fortnight I was up and again catching seabirds over the stern. I had been nearly half an hour in the cold waters of the Southern Ocean, and it was two hours before they could tell for certain whether I was dead or alive.-Edward Wakefield, author of "New Zealand After Fifty Years"