Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1894-07-30

was plungiug like restive horse, the
sea coming in floods over the bull
warks, and the wind tearing and
shrieking among the cordage, and
clustering against the big roaring fun
mel. The rain came down in slanting
sheets of water, and the sailors were
shouting to each other, and warning
the passengers who had delayed get
ting below. lost one of my rugs,
and how L saved my life 1 can hardly
tell. My deck chair left strapped to
its moorings, and took refuge in the
smoke room with half n dozen other
white-face fellows.
With the greatest difliculyt we got
to our staterooms, and l clamored in
to my berth, simply shedding my top
coat on the floor and kicking off my
sopping shoes. / lay on my back with
my elbows wedged against the side of
the bunk to prevent myself being
pitched out by the violent rolling of
the ship, and listened to the smashing
of glass and crockery, and the crash
OF hat boxes, bags and other unsecured
trihes, which were flying about like
pips in dice box, and to the shudder-
Ing whirl of the screw rs the water
dropped away from our stern and left
the great fianges to beat the air. The
steward came aud put the lights out,
a red-tape proceeding which added to
the awfulness of things in general.
Then L began to get insufferably
warm. 1t was summer time, and with
portfolios closed the atmosphere below
decks was almost stufy but never
before had felt such an oppression.
concluded that we had gone into the
gulf stream, or something of that sort,
and they had closed all the ventilators
for the sake of keeping the ship water
tight.
had to lie there in bath Of per-
spiration, for I could not get relief by
taking off my clothes. To unwedge
myself in order to make the attempt
would have resulted in my rolling out
on to the floor, where my shoes and a
water bottle, and careless compan-
ions razor case, were having perfect
frolic together.
grew parched with thirst. Every
moment the air became more un-
breathable. Ten minutes more, and |
gasped aloud: 81 must get out of
this, or diel" l flung myself down,
taking my chance of the razors, and
groped out of the door. A sitting fog
hung in the saloon. The dim light Of
a swinging lantern showed it to me.
Peering about me with almost blinded
eyes | perceived that from every state
room abutting on the saloon one or
more passengers had crept out like
myself and were standing at each
opening like spectres, holding on des-
perately to anything. The saloon
seemed to be doing its best to subvert
itself. At times the floor was almost
perpendicular Now l was lying fiat
upon the outer wall of my cabin; the
next instant L was hanging from the
rail that ran around it, as If | were a
trapeze performer. All about there
was n pandemonium of tumbling
things. The sea thundered against the
vessel tearfully, and again and again
there was that horrible shuddor of the
screw.
Across the saloon was the cabin
dedicated to Miss Bradley. l detected
q ghostly figure there, and made my
way over, holding fast to the chairs
and the table. Yes, it was she, white
rs the dressing gown that swathed her
graceful figure. She grasped my hand
Her dark eyes gazed into my face with
a terrible expression.
"Thank God you have come to me /"
she cried with passionate earnestness.
We had grown very good friends
during those few blissful days of her
convalescence, but only by maintain
ing rigid barrier of the most respect
full ceremony. How L blessed the ac-
commodating tempest which made her
now speak to me like that!
kept her hand in mine and brought
my face close to hers-I had to do this
to make my consolation Ineligible,
there was such racket. ''It's all
right [ shouted. "Only gale of
wind. Bit of sea on. You're quite
right to turn out if you feel nervous "
She shook her head "Oh, the storm
is nothing" she replied.
Nothing Mt all !" / assentel scof-
fingly, as If had been used to "high
seas and bowling winds" from infancy.
But in my heart did not agree with
her. She must surely be iesting-mak.
ing light of it in panic-stricken brava-
do, else why was she SO Enthusiastically
overmastered by fear? Her face was
set like marble, her eyes glared to
right and left; her beautifully chiseled
nostrils shifted the down draught from
the engine room.
As we stood there in the duskiness,
clinging to the side of the cabin and to
each other she asked: "Are YOU sure
there is nothing wrong with the ship
-nothing?"
Her tone was so changed that l
stared at her for moment through
the smother before asking the counter
question: "What should there be? ?"
"What is this smoke?" she whispered
hoarsely in my ear. Before 1 could
answer there was a concussion ohoya