"What Is The Matter?"
Inquired My Companion, Taking Hold Of One Of These Men.
"Say your prayers,
for we are going down," was the brutal reply.
For the first and only time
during my American travels I was really petrified with fear. Suddenly a
wave struck the hapless vessel, and with a stunning crash broke through
the thin woodwork of the side of the saloon. I caught hold of a life-buoy
which was near me - a gentleman clutched it from me, for fright makes some
men selfish - and, breathless, I was thrown down into the gurgling water. I
learned then how quickly thoughts can pass through the mind, for in those
few seconds I thought less of the anticipated death-struggle amid the
boiling surges of the lake, and of the quiet sleep beneath its gloomy
waters, than of the unsatisfactory manner in which those at home would
glean the terrible tidings from the accident columns of a newspaper.
Another minute, and I was swept through the open door into a state-room -
another one of suspense, and the ship righted as if by a superhuman
effort. There seemed a respite - there was a silence, broken only by the
roar of winds and waves, and with the respite came hope. Shortly after,
the master of the ship appeared, with his hat off, and completely
drenched. "Thank God, we're safe!" he said, and returned to his duty. We
had all supposed that we had struck on a rock or wreck.
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