The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1898-08-17

ana mlZZen rigging, and crushed IN
the quarter gallery; then freed herself,
and steamed very slowly out Of the
harbor into the open sea-Yankee
sailors, doomed to destruction, cheer
ing her to their own immortal glory, as
she fought forth to safety which they
could not share.
In the meantime we were drifting
nearer and nearer the reef. The ship
could not possibly live much longer,
nor could we help her. Many men
had been in the tire-room all night.
Others had worked for hours ct the
pump and the relieving tackles. There
is a limit to human endurance, al
though the limit is very high, and one
by one the men were forced, by sheer
physical exhaustion, to leave the
sweltering stoke-hole, being relieved
by volunteers from the deck.
About eleven o'clock the Vandalia
was not fifty feet from the reef, and
absolutely at the mercy of the waves.
only one anchor still dragged. The
Others had been lost by the parting of
the cables; and though every man
struggled on as we'll as the waning
strength could sustain his efforts, it
was evident that our ship was doomed.
There was yet one chance to save
the crew. The last cable was slipped,
and the ship, steaming at her best
speed, headed for tho sandy beach
near the mouth of the Vaisigano River.
The course was almost broadside to
the sea, and the old Vandalia made
more leeway than headway. Drawing
too much water to clear the edge of
the reefs, we struck two hundred
yards from the beach.
On this shelving reef, the ship listed
to leeward and began to settle. The
seas swept over her in torrents. In
twenty minutes she had filled with
water. The waves broke many feet
above the main deck, and two hundred
and twenty men rushed for safety into
the rigging.
The old ship swayed and groaned in
every timber as the waves rushed
madly against her and rushed below.
Ladders, hammocks, chests, hand
spikes, spars and rigging hoated off to
join the general wreckage.
On shore the brave natives and the
officers from the Nipsic patrolled the
beach in sight of their comrades cling
ing to the sinking Vandalia. They
tried again and again to launch boat
in the vain hope of getting line to
the ship; but no boat could live in such
q sea.
AS We clung to the rigging and
covered in the top, and gazed over the
stormy scene, we saw nothing to en-
courage or cheer us. The wind
showed no sigA of abating; the sea
gave no promise of mercy. There
was no hope of succor. Still many OF
the officers and crew looked cheerful,
but the cheerfulness was forced and
only indicated the spirit that will not
cover before any fate.
AS the afternoon wore slowly away
the loss of strength began to tell on
the men in the rigging. One by one
the faint and weak began to drop of
into the sea, some wrenched from the
shrouds and stays by the angry waves,
some swept from the deck while at
tempting to change their positions.
Others, unaware Of the treacherous
undercurrent and overestimating their
skill and strength, made efforts to
swim to the Nipsic close by, or the
beach, short distance beyond. Some
of these sank beneath our eyes. Others
would battle long, only to be finally
caught by the undertow and carried
out to sea; but few of all reached
shore.
Our captain, faint from a wound on
the head and unable to reach the rig
ging, stood on the poop-deck clinging
to the iron rail. BY his side stood a
marine who had not left his captain
since eight o'clock in the morning. 1t
was touching indeed to see the man s
devotion as the waves broke over the
two.
An officer high in rank stood on the
mizzen rigging, saw them, and realized
their danger He jumped to the deck
and made for the captains side.
He missed his goal, was struck by
a monster wave, and swept headlong
down through the cabin skylight into
the surging, foaming pool that flooded
the cabin.
Presently, as by miracle, he rose
from the watery tomb, regained the
deck and struggled to the rigging
again. Then he turned and saw that
the captain and his faithful marine had
been swept off by the selfsame wave
which had struck him down.
Now this marine was but one of
many humble men whom 1 saw freely
venturing aud frequently giving up
their lives to save injured officers or
weakened comrades in that dreadful,
heroic day.
Helpless men hoated amid the wreck
age. Every one on board was drenched
aud cold. Not bite of food had
passed our lips for twenty-four hours,
and the strongest of the crew needed
more than excitement to sustain them.
Many of them were almost naked.
The situation became desperate as
night began to settle down, and one by
one we were dropping off into the
waves or being washed away, some
reaching shore ON a piece Of wreck
age, but many going out to sea with
the swift and treacherous undertow.
The Nipsic lay about fifty yards or
more distant. A line to her meant
possibly safety for all Of us.
A quiet young seaman named Ham