Year: 1878

At seven o'clock in the morning II
being our watch below, saws a poTre-
spOndent, we were aroused from a sound
sleep by the cry of Gail hands abovT a
man overboardp This unwonted crv
sent a thrill through the heart of eyery
one, and hurrying on deck we found the
vessel hove fiat aback, with all her stud
ding-sails set; for the boy who was at
the helm left it to throw something over
board, and the carpenter, who was an
old sailor, knowing that the wind was


light, put the helm down, and hove her
aback. The watch on deck were lower
ing away the quarter-boat, and got on
deck Just IN time to heave myself into
her as she was leaving the side but it
was not until out upon the wide Pacific.
in our little boat, that knew whom we
had lost. 1t was George Ballner- 4
young sailor who was priced by the
officers as an active and willing seaman
and by the crew as a lively, hearty feI-
low, and a good shipmate. He was going
aloft to fit a strap round the main-tor2
masthead, for ringtail halyards, and had
the strap and block, coil Of halyards,
and a marlinespike, about his neck. He
fell from the starboard shrouds, and not
knowing how to swim, and being very
heavily dressed, with all those things
about his neck, he probably sank imme-
dlately. We pulled astern, in the direc-
tion in which he fell, and, though we
knew there was no hope of saving him.
yet no one wished to speak of returning.
and we rowed about for nearly an hour,
without the hope of doing anything, but
unwilling to acknowledge to ourselves
that we must give him up. At length
we turned the boats head, and made
towards the vessel. Death is at all times
solemn, but never so much so as at sea.
A man dies on shore; his body remains
with his friends, and "the mourners go
about the streets :" but when a man falls
overheard at sea, and is lost, there is
suddenness in the event, and difficulty.
in realizing it, which give to it an air Of
awful mystery. A man dies on shore
you follow his body to the grave, and a
stone marks the spot. You are often
prepared for the event. There is always
something which helps you to realize it
when it happens, and to recall it when
it has passed. A man is shot down by
your side in battle, and the mangled
body remains an object and a real evil
dence; but at sea, the man is near you
at your side-you hear his voice, and in
an instant he is gone, and nothing but
vacancy shows his loss. Then, too. at
sea-to use a homely, but expressive
phrase-you miss a man so much. A
1ozen men are shut up together in lit
tie bark, upon the wide, wide sea, and
for months and months see no forms
and hear no voices but their own, and
one is taken suddenly from among them,
and they miss him at every turn. 1t is
like losing a limb. There are no new
faces or new scenes to fill up the gap
There is always an empty berth in the
forecastle, and one man wanting when
the small night watch is mustered. There
is ore less to take the wheel, and to
lay out with you upon the yard. You
miss his form, and the sound of his
voice, for habit has made them almsst
necessary to you, and each Of your
senses feels the loss. All these things
make such a death peculiarly solemn,
and the effect of it remains upon the
crew for some time.