The silver messenger. (Challis, Idaho) 1890-1912, 1900-06-12


"Ails over now" said Tom Lam
bourne, as he yrasped the tiller with
a firm hand, after carefully wrapping a
blanket round poor Hislop, who droop-
ed beside him in the stern-sheets.
(which way shall we pull?" asked
tha bowman, as we paused with our
oars in the rowlocks.
ut matters little, mates" cried TOM
in a loud voice, with his left hand at
the side of his mouth, to send wat
he said forward above the roar OF the
Wind and sea. 1--WE must be many
hundred miles from Brazil, the nearest
land, and we can do nothing now but
keep our boat alive by baling and
steering till daybreak. Now, Master
Hislop," he added, lowering his voice,
chow do you feel, slr?'
II feel that | am quite in your way,
my lads-a useless hand aboard, to
consume your food and water" re-
piled Hislop, family.
why, sir" said Probart, the stroke
oarsman, you don't think we could
have left you to burn in that poor old
brig?"
mo, not exactly; still I am of nc
use to you, and feel"
what, sir, what?" asked Tom, anx-
iously.
Heart sick ard despairlng," moan
ed HisloD, letting his chin drop on
his breast.
Don't talk so, sir" said Lambourne
stoutly; despair never found a place
in the heart of British sailor"
you are right, Tom; and perhaps
I'll gather Roadway and get to wind
ward yet"
"Of course you WILL" replied Tom
cheerfully; "but here's sea coming
together, lads. pull together!"
Despair might well have found q
place in all our breasts at that awful
crisis; but Toms bluff and cheerful
way prevented our hearts from sink
Ing, though the hours of that awful
night seemed dark and long.
Well, without compass, chart, OIL
quadrant, there we were, ten in num-
Der, in an open boat, tossing upon a
dark and stormy sea, enveloped in
clouds, with the red lightning gleam-
! ing through their ragged openings, OIL
at the far and fiat acknowledgement
OF where we were, where to steer for
or what to do, and full of terrible
anticipations for the future
We were silent and sleepless.
My heart was full of horror, grief
and vague alarm, when / thought Of
my home-the quiet, the happy and
peaceful old rectory, with all who loved
me there, and whom l might never see
again.
The hot tears that started to my
eyes mingled with the cold spray that
drenched my cheeks, and there seem
ed but one consolation for me, that my
father, my affectionate mother and sis
ters, dear Dot and little Sybil, could
never know how ! persisted by hunger
or drowning, if such were to be my
fate.
All the stories I had heard or read
of ship-wrecked men-their sufferings
their endurance of gnawing hunger
and burning thirst, their cannibalism
their mortal struggles with their dear.
est friends for the last morsel of food
for the last drop of water, and how
the weak persisted that the strong
might live--crowded upon my mem.
DRY to augment the real terrors of oul
situation.
So suddenly had this final catas-
trophe come upon us that we had con.
siderable difficulty in assuring our.
selves of its reality, and that it was
not a dream-a dream, alas! from
which there might be no awakening.
So hour after hour passed darkly
slowly, and silently on.
The turbulence of the wind an(
waves abated, the lightning passed
away, the scud ceased to whirl, thu
vapors We're divided in heaven, and
faint light that stole TREMENDOUSLY up
ward from the horizon served to indi
cate the east and the dawn of the com
ing day.