Evening bulletin. [volume] (Honolulu [Oahu, Hawaii]) 1895-1912, 1906-01-26
SHORT STORY FOR
EVENING HOURS
DIED AT SEA

Since his Academia tumble down
the forepeak while hosting coal for
the cookie had been lying in his
bunk in the forecastle, and the
watches turned in or out in a hush Of
reverence for the mystery of his still
face. A little hurricane lamp burned
over his head, and its weak light dug
pits OF shadow in the hollowness of
his eyes and set his features in a pose
If still sharpness that was awful in its
likeness to death.
There was nothing to do for him but
guard the silence in which his hours
leaked away. The injury was beyond
the captains crude surgery, and a sail
ing vessel carries no doctor. We
guessed at something wrong with the
spine, and even in guessing spoke eau.
tiously, for with this example at our
elbows the matter was awesome. Each
night, as eight bells brought out the
starboard watch to relieve us, II was
with tender fear, an anxious care for
quietness, that we skunk below to the
iOreCastle. where the muteness of the
face In the for'ard bunk and its elo.
quent inertness laid a chill spell on
the place. Even as our eyes opened
for the new watch II was the first
thing they rested on, bright under the
lamp, while over the motiOnless body
the grey blanket lay in the severe
folds OF a grave.Cluth. There was an
atmosphere of tomb in the forecastle
and the inevitable noises without, as
the ship drew her long flank through
the rustling water, as the blocks rat.
| tied in the standing gear overhead. as.
the canvas doomed to the wind. were
turned to rhythm of colour and so
lemnity.
Even about decks, as we worked her
through the slant to the trade zone,
the hush held us. When we braCed up
the yards the coils were not flung from
the pin, but lowered noiselessly, and
1 no chanty shrilled to tune the hauling.
Death was aboard of us, a stowaway
of mid.ocean, and he set the time we
| followed. And, though not one of his
shipmates would own II, there was re.
| lief to all OF us, a sense as of restric'
| ton removed, when the starboard
watch streamed on deck two hours be.
fore their time, and we learned that
he was dead
He opened his eyes" said old King,
the grandfather of the crew, and
looked up at the lamp like as II he was
puzzled. Is It eight bell?' he asks .
! Nigh on, maty,' | told i'm. Time
tool he whispers, an then-it was
as If e shrunk in imself and some
thing went from i'm. So | knowed e
was dead"
Below and pass him up!" ordered
the mate. and very quietly we brought
him on deck, n shipmate no longer. and
laid him on the after hatch, with the
big ensign over his body. and went
forthwith to washing down the decks
When next we turned out the sail
maker was sitting on the hatch behind
the bundle that had once turned tC
with us, and he was stitching at the
convas he had gathered over his knees
Sail was Finn, bland big mar
with a heavy lowering face and lips
that were rude red through his yellow
beard. As he stitched he droned tC
himself, and turned ever and again "a
tumble with his footrule under the en-
sign. From my post at the wheel
watched him for a long two hours
striking the bell when II was due
slowly, in the fashion OF the set when
Death calls for his observances. The
battered chest that had been his was
brought aft, and the captain and the
steward went through II on the poop,
making a list OF its contents, and talk.