The Caldwell watchman. (Columbia, La.) 1885-1946, 1914-08-14

No one could answer, but the ques-
'ions were asked over and over again.
But what of the bridge? What was
going on there?
me ship was $50 miles out of Ply
mouth when she turned back.
she would have reached that port
sunday night or Monday morning.
ne problem confronting Captain Po-
iack was to get his load of gold and
human souls back to America with
out being overhauled by a French or
English warship. There was no an
swer from England, it is true, but he
Old not know it.
Couldn't Use Wireless.
He could not afford to send
wireless messages because he would
oetray himself, but he could intercept.
Every message coming out of the air
from Sayville admonished him to be
careful; they told him that French and
English vessels were already talking
about that great prize, the Kronprin-
zessin Cecilie, with her gold on board
Friday night he considered himself
reasonably safe. He steered far to
the north, out of the beaten path but
look no further precautions. Saturday
the usual Marconi newspaper was
omitted and at the lunch table each
passenger found a printed notice that
the electric lights would be turned out
that night In order to conceal our
lrentity from passing vessels, and that
we must be content with oil lamps.
There were no deck lights. To make
matters worse from the standpoint Of
the passengers, Saturday brought with
1t dense fog. But the fog was to the
liking of the captain. He sent the
boat along at the best speed she could
make through thick weather and with
the foghOrn silent. There was small
chance Of his being seen through this
black curtain.
Many passengers remained on deck
all night and others retired fully
clothed. They remembered the IT.
tanic and they wanted to be prepared
for emergencies.
Again Sunday night there was fog.
The nerves Of the passengers were on
edge. A delegation assembled to the
bridge and asked the captain to please
blow the fog whistle and to carry the !
usual side and stay lights.
Crew Showed Strain.
The crew were showing the strain. |
The dining room stewards were alb
and not as attentive as they |
were during the first days of the voy-
age. 1t was difficult to get cabin
steward, as they had other things to |
think about. 1t was not uncommon
to see stewardesses In tears They |
have brothers, sons, fathers, husbands
and sweethearts who may be sacrificed
in the war.
In the smoking room there were no
more cigars and cigarettes to be had,
and yet the voyage was only one day
onger than the usual voyage across
he Atlantic. The men just seemed
10 smoke more. After the famine be-
gan those who had tobacco divided
with the less fortunate.
A protest was written out and an at
tempt made to get the signatures of
citizens of the United States, but this
was unsuccessful, the captain stating
that the passengers were his first con.
sideration, that he would give up the
ship rather than sacrifice them.
Passengers In Dark.
Monday night came, and with 1t
more fog. BY this time the passen.
gers were specializing as to which
port we were headed for. The same
question was being debated on the
bridge. The wireless indicated to the
captain that it would be unwise to
attempt to make New York or Boston.
He had to make up his mind on such
fragments of information as he could
grab from the air. Portland first came
to his mind. but then he favored less
known port. He had heard Of Bar Har.
Dor, of course, but he was not certain
of the water thereabouts. And here
enters c. Ledyard Blair of Blair Broth
ers, bankers, New York. MIR. Blair's
father, D. c. Blair, has summer home
at Bar Harbor and the sons had sailed
their yacht in these waters so often
that he knows his way around there
as we'll as he does in Wall street. Fig
uratively speaking, Mr.. Ledyard Blair
took the helm.
Heads for Bar Harbor.
We were headed for Bar Harbor,
but the information was confined to
the bridge. We folk below were not
even told to pack our luggage. Those
who stayed awake could tell that
was in the wind. We were
taking soundings every little while.
Evidently we were running into some
place that we were not quite sure of.
The fog was thick, and the fog horn
was crying out every minute. Then
daylight, and the fog lifted.
Mrs. Howard Hinkle Of Cincinnati
and her daughter were awakened by
~