The Forrest City times., 1899-04-28

uay or TWO longer. 4 snOulu nave lfktu
to shake hands with Capt. Grover. The
old ship has kind of home look, hasn't
she? he added.
And so il went on. / was never at
home when Sam was, and Sam never
was at home when | was. We both
tried to arrange il better. bit some
thing would always interfere to prevent
our meeting. Still we never abandoned
the hope of getting together some day.
The same thing occurred when went
| to Glasgow, in Scotland. in ship called
| the Robert Burns. The vessel to which
Sam belonged had left the place only
the day before, and gone down TO Car
| diff, In Wales, to load with iron for
home.
| At Glasgow our homeward cargo was
soon taken in, and after dropping down
to Greenock we made sail on our return
voyage; and how romantic the Scottish
coast appeared as we passed, under all
sail, down the Firth of Clyde. There,
close at hand, were the isles of Butte and
| Arran, and there, too, was old Ailsa
Craig, 500 feet high. How l enjoyed
such a scene'
We doubled the Null of Cantyre, at
| the mouth of the wide firth, and with
every sail drawing, from courses to
royals, passed rapidly out through the
/ North channel, between Scotland and
Ireland-the stout ship pitching and
rolling merrily as she took the broad
swells that met her from the Atlantic.
Some of our Scottish passengers wept
outright as the beloved shores of their
of them repeating a verse of poetry.
something like this:
Butte. Arran Isle is passed.
Scotland farewell. for Ailsa Craig
Is out OF sight at last!'
On we went, leaving astern the great
Irish promontory of Malin Head. until
Ireland. as well as Scotland. sank Small
ly below the horizon. And now, with
only the wide ocean about her, the Rob-
ert Burns kept steadily on her way.
Then commenced the usual routine
of sea life. We had our wheels" and
our 'lookouts," each man in his turn
standing two hours at the wheel and an
equal time on the top-gallant forecastle,
to guard against any possible collision
with another vessel.
! 1t being the month of June, there ex-
listed some danger from floating ice,
which had begun TO come down from
the north, loosened by the summer sun.
We, however, kept on our way without
seeing single fragment, until close off
Cape Race, in Newfoundland.
| One very dark night, when we were
nearly up with the cape, took my po-
sition as usual on the top-gallant fore
castle, which was about four feet high
er than the deck, and one foot below
the head-rail. 1t was impossible to see
anything through the darkness, but the
lookout must be kept all the same.
The ship was moving only about three
knots an hour, and was seated on the
head-rail with my legs hanging over it,
when suddenly there was a heavy shock,
which threw me headlong over the bow
| RENE mber the shock and the plunge,
but nothing further. My head must
have struck with force enough to stop
ell thought, rendering me entirely I'M
conscious.
When recollection returned il was
near morning, though il was still dark
At last the sun came up, and then was
able to realize what had happened
was on an ice field. and the ship was
out of sight. AS soon as my head be.
came sufficiently clear TO admit of CO.
hereDt thought | saw how the accident
had occurred, and why | had been lief,
behind. The ship, | reasoned, must
have struck a CHANGING blow on cor,
ner OF the drift ice, and then, her head
way being stopped, and her topsails
perhaps, being caught aback, she had
cleared the obstruction and finally sliG
past il. All this, admitting that she
had moi gone TO the bottom. which
thought not improbable, though she
was moving so slowly at the time. o.
course. in the darkness, | would not be
missed, or, if so, | should be supposed
to have been drowned.
My head ached badly from the blow il
had received, but otherwise | felt in
sound condition.
As the sun mounted higher saw thai
the field of ice was of no great length
comprising, | should think, five or sin
acres, with the surface about four feet
above the ~s-ter. What was | to do
Nothing at al. but remain there till
should starve to death. There was N,
land in sight, no sail visible; and when
ever, since then, | have heard a person
complain of loneliness, | have thought
of that hopeless morning.
Towards evening there came up g
heavy gale from the northwest, raising
tremendous sea, which broke con
tnually against the windward side OF
the ice, sending a deluge of water over
the entire field. but my strange raft was
quite steady through the whole: being
as suppose, too large to pitch like a
ship.
The night which followed. was. OF
course, short one in that latitude. bu,
the gale continued. and the sea roared
, | and SyNa Sha1 Sp that I IA