HENRY FERGUSON'S DIARY TO DATE, GIVEN IN FULL:
May 4, 5, 6, doldrums. May 7, 8, 9, doldrums. May 10, 11, 12, doldrums. Tells it all. Never saw, never felt, never heard, never experienced such heat, such darkness, such lightning and thunder, and wind and rain, in my life before.
That boy's diary is of the economical sort that a person might properlybe expected to keep in such circumstances--and be forgiven for theeconomy, too. His brother, perishing of consumption, hunger, thirst,blazing heat, drowning rains, loss of sleep, lack of exercise, waspersistently faithful and circumstantial with his diary from the firstday to the last--an instance of noteworthy fidelity and resolution. Inspite of the tossing and plunging boat he wrote it close and fine, in ahand as easy to read as print. They can't seem to get north of 7 degreesN.; they are still there the next day:
(Diary entry) May 12. A good rain last night, and we caught a good deal, though not enough to fill up our tank, pails, &c. Our object is to get out of these doldrums, but it seems as if we cannot do it. To-day we have had it very variable, and hope we are on the northern edge, thought we are not much above 7 degrees. This morning we all thought we had made out a sail; but it was one of those deceiving clouds. Rained a good deal to-day, making all hands wet and uncomfortable; we filled up pretty nearly all our water-pots, however. I hope we may have a fine night, for the captain certainly wants rest, and while there is any danger of squalls, or danger of any kind, he is always on hand. I never would have believed that open boats such as ours, with their loads, could live in some of the seas we have had.
During the night, 12th-13th, 'the cry of A SHIP! brought us to ourfeet.' It seemed to be the glimmer of a vessel's signal-lantern risingout of the curve of the sea. There was a season of breathless hope whilethey stood watching, with their hands shading their eyes, and theirhearts in their throats; then the promise failed: the light was a risingstar. It is a long time ago--thirty-two years--and it doesn't matternow, yet one is sorry for their disappointment. 'Thought often of thoseat home to-day, and of the disappointment they will feel next Sunday atnot hearing from us by telegraph from San Francisco.' It will bemany weeks yet before the telegram is received, and it will come as athunderclap of joy then, and with the seeming of a miracle, for itwill raise from the grave men mourned as dead. 'To-day our rations werereduced to a quarter of a biscuit a meal, with about half a pint ofwater.' This is on May 13, with more than a month of voyaging in frontof them yet! However, as they do not know that, 'we are all feelingpretty cheerful.'
In the afternoon of the 14th there was a thunderstorm, 'which towardnight seemed to close in around us on every side, making it very darkand squally.' 'Our situation is becoming more and more desperate,' forthey were making very little northing 'and every day diminishes oursmall stock of provisions.' They realise that the boats must soonseparate, and each fight for its own life. Towing the quarter-boats is ahindering business.
That night and next day, light and baffling winds and but littleprogress. Hard to bear, that persistent standing still, and the foodwasting away. 'Everything in a perfect sop; and all so cramped, and nochange of clothes.' Soon the sun comes out and roasts them. 'Joe caughtanother dolphin to-day; in his maw we found a flying-fish and twoskipjacks.' There is an event, now, which rouses an enthusiasm of hope:a land-bird arrives! It rests on the yard for awhile, and they can lookat it all they like, and envy it, and thank it for its message. As asubject of talk it is beyond price--a fresh new topic for tongues tiredto death of talking upon a single theme: Shall we ever see the landagain; and when? Is the bird from Clipperton Rock? They hope so; andthey take heart of grace to believe so. As it turned out the bird had nomessage; it merely came to mock.
May 16, 'the cock still lives, and daily carols forth his praise.'It will be a rainy night, 'but I do not care if we can fill up ourwater-butts.'
On the 17th one of those majestic spectres of the deep, a water-spout,stalked by them, and they trembled for their lives. Young Henry set itdown in his scanty journal with the judicious comment that 'it mighthave been a fine sight from a ship.'
From Captain Mitchell's log for this day: 'Only half a bushel ofbread-crumbs left.' (And a month to wander the seas yet.')
It rained all night and all day; everybody uncomfortable. Now camea sword-fish chasing a bonito; and the poor thing, seeking help andfriends, took refuge under the rudder. The big sword-fish kept hoveringaround, scaring everybody badly. The men's mouths watered for him, forhe would have made a whole banquet; but no one dared to touch him,of course, for he would sink a boat promptly if molested. Providenceprotected the poor bonito from the cruel sword-fish. This was just andright. Providence next befriended the shipwrecked sailors: they got thebonito. This was also just and right. But in the distribution of merciesthe sword-fish himself got overlooked. He now went away; to muse overthese subtleties, probably. The men in all the boats seem pretty well;the feeblest of the sick ones (not able for a long time to stand hiswatch on board the ship) 'is wonderfully recovered.' This is the thirdmate's detected 'Portyghee' that raised the family of abscesses.
Passed a most awful night. Rained hard nearly all the time, and blew in squalls, accompanied by terrific thunder and lightning from all points of the compass.--Henry's Log.
Most awful night I ever witnessed.--Captain's Log.
Latitude, May 18, 11 degrees 11 minutes. So they have averaged butforty miles of northing a day during the fortnight. Further talk ofseparating. 'Too bad, but it must be done for the safety of the whole.''At first I never dreamed, but now hardly shut my eyes for a cat-napwithout conjuring up something or other--to be accounted for byweakness, I suppose.' But for their disaster they think they would bearriving in San Francisco about this time. 'I should have liked to sendB---the telegram for her birthday.' This was a young sister.
On the 19th the captain called up the quarter-boats and said one wouldhave to go off on its own hook. The long-boat could no longer tow bothof them. The second mate refused to go, but the chief mate was ready;in fact, he was always ready when there was a man's work to the fore. Hetook the second mate's boat; six of its crew elected to remain, andtwo of his own crew came with him (nine in the boat, now, includinghimself). He sailed away, and toward sunset passed out of sight. Thediarist was sorry to see him go. It was natural; one could have betterspared the 'Portyghee.' After thirty-two years I find my prejudiceagainst this 'Portyghee' reviving. His very looks have long passed outof my memory; but no matter, I am coming to hate him as religiouslyas ever. 'Water will now be a scarce article, for as we get out of thedoldrums we shall get showers only now and then in the trades. This lifeis telling severely on my strength. Henry holds out first-rate.' Henrydid not start well, but under hardships he improved straight along.
Latitude, Sunday, May 20, 12 degrees 0 minutes 9 seconds. They oughtto be well out of the doldrums now, but they are not. No breeze--thelonged-for trades still missing. They are still anxiously watching fora sail, but they have only 'visions of ships that come to naught--theshadow without the substance.' The second mate catches a booby thisafternoon, a bird which consists mainly of feathers; 'but as they haveno other meat, it will go well.'
May 21, they strike the trades at last! The second mate catches threemore boobies, and gives the long-boat one. Dinner 'half a can ofmincemeat divided up and served around, which strengthened us somewhat.'They have to keep a man bailing all the time; the hole knocked in theboat when she was launched from the burning ship was never efficientlymended. 'Heading about north-west now.' They hope they have eastingenough to make some of these indefinite isles. Failing that, they thinkthey will be in a better position to be picked up. It was an infinitelyslender chance, but the captain probably refrained from mentioning that.
The next day is to be an eventful one.
(Diary entry) May 22. Last night wind headed us off, so that part of the time we had to steer east-south-east and then
west-north-west, and so on. This morning we were all startled by a cry of 'SAIL HO!' Sure enough, we could see it! And for a time we cut adrift from the second mate's boat, and steered so as to attract its attention. This was about half-past five A.M. After sailing in a state of high excitement for almost twenty minutes we made it out to be the chief mate's boat. Of course we were glad to see them and have them report all well; but still it was a bitter disappointment to us all. Now that we are in the trades it seems impossible to make northing enough to strike the isles. We have determined to do the best we can, and get in the route of vessels. Such being the determination, it became necessary to cast off the other boat, which, after a good deal of unpleasantness, was done, we again dividing water and stores, and taking Cox into our boat. This makes our number fifteen. The second mate's crew wanted to all get in with us, and cast the other boat adrift. It was a very painful separation.
So these isles that they have struggled for so long and so hopefullyhave to be given up. What with lying birds that come to mock, and islesthat are but a dream, and 'visions of ships that come to naught,' it isa pathetic time they are having, with much heartbreak in it. It was oddthat the vanished boat, three days lost to sight in that vast solitude,should appear again. But it brought Cox--we can't be certain why. But ifit hadn't, the diarist would never have seen the land again.
(Diary entry) Our chances as we go west increase in regard to being picked up, but each day our scanty fare is so much reduced. Without the fish, turtle, and birds sent us, I do not know how we should have got along. The other day I offered to read prayers morning and evening for the captain, and last night commenced. The men, although of various nationalities and religions, are very attentive, and always uncovered. May God grant my weak endeavour its issue!
Latitude, May 24, 14 degrees 18 minutes N. Five oysters apiece for dinner and three spoonfuls of juice, a gill of water, and a piece of biscuit the size of a silver dollar. 'We are plainly getting weaker--God have mercy upon us all!' That night heavy seas break over the weather side and make everybody wet and uncomfortable besides requiring constant baling.
Next day 'nothing particular happened.' Perhaps some of us would haveregarded it differently. 'Passed a spar, but not near enough to see whatit was.' They saw some whales blow; there were flying-fish skimmingthe seas, but none came aboard. Misty weather, with fine rain, verypenetrating.
Latitude, May 26, 15 degrees 50 minutes. They caught a flying-fish anda booby, but had to eat them raw. 'The men grow weaker, and, I think,despondent; they say very little, though.' And so, to all the otherimaginable and unimaginable horrors, silence is added--the mutenessand brooding of coming despair. 'It seems our best chance to get in thetrack of ships with the hope that some one will run near enough to ourspeck to see it.' He hopes the other boards stood west and have beenpicked up. (They will never be heard of again in this world.)
(Diary entry) Sunday, May 27, Latitude 16 degrees 0 minutes 5 seconds; longitude, by chronometer, 117 degrees 22 minutes. Our fourth Sunday! When we left the ship we reckoned on having about ten days' supplies, and now we hope to be able, by rigid economy, to make them last another week if possible.(1) Last night the sea was comparatively quiet, but the wind headed us off to about west-north-west, which has been about our course all day to-day. Another flying-fish came aboard last night, and one more to-day --both small ones. No birds. A booby is a great catch, and a good large one makes a small dinner for the fifteen of us--that is, of course, as dinners go in the 'Hornet's' long-boat. Tried this morning to read the full service to myself, with the Communion, but found it too much; am too weak, and get sleepy, and cannot give strict attention; so I put off half till this afternoon. I trust God will hear the prayers gone up for us at home to-day, and graciously answer them by sending us succour and help in this our season of deep distress.
The next day was 'a good day for seeing a ship.' But none was seen. Thediarist 'still feels pretty well,' though very weak; his brother Henry'bears up and keeps his strength the best of any on board.' 'I do notfeel despondent at all, for I fully trust that the Almighty will hearour and the home prayers, and He who suffers not a sparrow to fall seesand cares for us, His creatures.'
Considering the situation and circumstances, the record for next day,May 29, is one which has a surprise in it for those dull people whothink that nothing but medicines and doctors can cure the sick. A littlestarvation can really do more for the average sick man than can the bestmedicines and the best doctors. I do not mean a restricted diet; I meantotal abstention from food for one or two days. I speak from experience;starvation has been my cold and fever doctor for fifteen years, and hasaccomplished a cure in all instances. The third mate told me in Honoluluthat the 'Portyghee' had lain in his hammock for months, raising hisfamily of abscesses and feeding like a cannibal. We have seen that inspite of dreadful weather, deprivation of sleep, scorching, drenching,and all manner of miseries, thirteen days of starvation 'wonderfullyrecovered' him. There were four sailors down sick when the ship wasburned. Twenty-five days of pitiless starvation have followed, and nowwe have this curious record: 'All the men are hearty and strong; eventhe ones that were down sick are well, except poor Peter.' When I wrotean article some months ago urging temporary abstention from food asa remedy for an inactive appetite and for disease, I was accused ofjesting, but I was in earnest. 'We are all wonderfully well and strong,comparatively speaking.' On this day the starvation regime drew its belta couple of buckle-holes tighter: the bread ration was reduced from theusual piece of cracker the size of a silver dollar to the half of that,and one meal was abolished from the daily three. This will weaken themen physically, but if there are any diseases of an ordinary sort leftin them they will disappear.
Two quarts bread-crumbs left, one-third of a ham, three small cans of oysters, and twenty gallons of water.--Captain's Log.
The hopeful tone of the diaries is persistent. It is remarkable. Lookat the map and see where the boat is: latitude 16 degrees 44 minutes,longitude 119 degrees 20 minutes. It is more than two hundred mileswest of the Revillagigedo Islands, so they are quite out of the questionagainst the trades, rigged as this boat is. The nearest land availablefor such a boat is the American group, six hundred and fifty milesaway, westward; still, there is no note of surrender, none even ofdiscouragement! Yet, May 30, 'we have now left: one can of oysters;three pounds of raisins; one can of soup; one-third of a ham; threepints of biscuit-crumbs.'
And fifteen starved men to live on it while they creep and crawl sixhundred and fifty miles. 'Somehow I feel much encouraged by this changeof course (west by north) which we have made to-day.' Six hundred andfifty miles on a hatful of provisions. Let us be thankful, even afterthirty-two years, that they are mercifully ignorant of the fact thatit isn't six hundred and fifty that they must creep on the hatful, buttwenty-two hundred!
Isn't the situation romantic enough just as it stands? No. Providenceadded a startling detail: pulling an oar in that boat, for commonseaman's wages, was a banished duke--Danish. We hear no more of him;just that mention, that is all, with the simple remark added that 'he isone of our best men'--a high enough compliment for a duke or any otherman in those manhood-testing circumstances. With that little glimpseof him at his oar, and that fine word of praise, he vanishes out of ourknowledge for all time. For all time, unless he should chance upon thisnote and reveal himself.
The last day of May is come. And now there is a disaster to report:think of it, reflect upon it, and try to understand how much itmeans, when you sit down with your family and pass your eye over yourbreakfast-table. Yesterday there were three pints of bread-crumbs; thismorning the little bag is found open and some of the crumbs are missing.'We dislike to suspect any one of such a rascally act, but there isno question that this grave crime has been committed. Two days w
illcertainly finish the remaining morsels. God grant us strength to reachthe American group!' The third mate told me in Honolulu that in thesedays the men remembered with bitterness that the 'Portyghee' haddevoured twenty-two days' rations while he lay waiting to be transferredfrom the burning ship, and that now they cursed him and swore an oaththat if it came to cannibalism he should be the first to suffer for therest.
(Diary entry) The captain has lost his glasses, and therefore he cannot read our pocket prayer-books as much as I think he would like, though he is not familiar with them.
Further of the captain: 'He is a good man, and has been most kind tous--almost fatherly. He says that if he had been offered the command ofthe ship sooner he should have brought his two daughters with him.' Itmakes one shudder yet to think how narrow an escape it was.
The two meals (rations) a day are as follows: fourteen raisins and a piece of cracker the size of a penny for tea; a gill of water, and a piece of ham and a piece of bread, each the size of a penny, for breakfast.--Captain's Log.
He means a penny in thickness as well as in circumference. SamuelFerguson's diary says the ham was shaved 'about as thin as it could becut.'
(Diary entry) June 1. Last night and to-day sea very high and cobbling, breaking over and making us all wet and cold. Weather squally, and there is no doubt that only careful management--with God's protecting care--preserved us through both the night and the day; and really it is most marvellous how every morsel that passes our lips is blessed to us. It makes me think daily of the miracle of the loaves and fishes. Henry keeps up wonderfully, which is a great consolation to me. I somehow have great confidence, and hope that our afflictions will soon be ended, though we are running rapidly across the track of both outward and inward bound vessels, and away from them; our chief hope is a whaler, man-of-war, or some Australian ship. The isles we are steering for are put down in Bowditch, but on my map are said to be doubtful. God grant they may be there!
Hardest day yet.--Captain's Log.
Doubtful! It was worse than that. A week later they sailed straight overthem.
(Diary entry) June 2. Latitude 18 degrees 9 minutes. Squally, cloudy, a heavy sea.... I cannot help thinking of the cheerful and comfortable time we had aboard the 'Hornet.'
Two days' scanty supplies left--ten rations of water apiece and a little morsel of bread. BUT THE SUN SHINES AND GOD IS MERCIFUL. --Captain's Log.
(Diary entry) Sunday, June 3. Latitude 17 degrees 54 minutes. Heavy sea all night, and from 4 A.M. very wet, the sea breaking over us in frequent sluices, and soaking everything aft, particularly. All day the sea has been very high, and it is a wonder that we are not swamped. Heaven grant that it may go down this evening! Our suspense and condition are getting terrible. I managed this morning to crawl, more than step, to the forward end of the boat, and was surprised to find that I was so weak, especially in the legs and knees. The sun has been out again, and I have dried some things, and hope for a better night.
June 4. Latitude 17 degrees 6 minutes, longitude 131 degrees 30 minutes. Shipped hardly any seas last night, and to-day the sea has gone down somewhat, although it is still too high for comfort, as we have an occasional reminder that water is wet. The sun has been out all day, and so we have had a good drying. I have been trying for the last ten or twelve days to get a pair of drawers dry enough to put on, and to-day at last succeeded. I mention this to show the state in which we have lived. If our chronometer is anywhere near right, we ought to see the American Isles to-morrow or next day. If there are not there, we have only the chance, for a few days, of a stray ship, for we cannot eke out the provisions more than five or six days longer, and our strength is failing very fast. I was much surprised to-day to note how my legs have wasted away above my knees: they are hardly thicker than my upper arm used to be. Still, I trust in God's infinite mercy, and feel sure he will do what is best for us. To survive, as we have done, thirty-two days in an open boat, with only about ten days' fair provisions for thirty-one men in the first place, and these divided twice subsequently, is more than mere unassisted HUMAN art and strength could have accomplished and endured.
Bread and raisins all gone.--Captain's Log.
Men growing dreadfully discontented, and awful grumbling and unpleasant talk is arising. God save us from all strife of men; and if we must die now, take us himself, and not embitter our bitter death still more.--Henry's Log.
(Diary entry) June 5. Quiet night and pretty comfortable day, though our sail and block show signs of failing, and need taking down--which latter is something of a job, as it requires the climbing of the mast. We also had news from forward, there being discontent and some threatening complaints of unfair allowances, etc., all as unreasonable as foolish; still, these things bid us be on our guard. I am getting miserably weak, but try to keep up the best I can. If we cannot find those isles we can only try to make north-west and get in the track of Sandwich Island-bound vessels, living as best we can in the meantime. To-day we changed to one meal, and that at about noon, with a small ration or water at 8 or 9 A.M., another at 12 A.M., and a third at 5 or 6 P.M.
Nothing left but a little piece of ham and a gill of water, all around.--Captain's Log.
They are down to one meal a day now--such as it is--and fifteen hundredmiles to crawl yet! And now the horrors deepen, and, though they escapedactual mutiny, the attitude of the men became alarming. Now we seemto see why that curious incident happened, so long ago; I mean Cox'sreturn, after he had been far away and out of sight several days in thechief mate's boat. If he had not come back the captain and the twoyoung passengers might have been slain, now, by these sailors, who werebecoming crazed through their sufferings.
NOTE SECRETLY PASSED BY HENRY TO HIS BROTHER:
Cox told me last night that there is getting to be a good deal of ugly talk among the men against the captain and us aft. They say that the captain is the cause of all; that he did not try to save the ship at all, nor to get provisions, and that even would not let the men put in some they had; and that partiality is shown us in apportioning our rations aft.... asked Cox the other day if he would starve first or eat human flesh. Cox answered he would starve.... then told him he would only be killing himself. If we do not find those islands we would do well to prepare for anything. .... is the loudest of all.
REPLY:
We can depend on... I think, and... and Cox, can we not?
SECOND NOTE:
I guess so, and very likely on...; but there is no telling... and Cox are certain. There is nothing definite said or hinted as yet, as I understand Cox; but starving men are the same as maniacs. It would be well to keep a watch on your pistol, so as to have it and the cartridges safe from theft.
Henry's Log, June 5. Dreadful forebodings. God spare us from all such horrors! Some of the men getting to talk a good deal. Nothing to write down. Heart very sad.
Henry's Log, June 6. Passed some sea-weed and something that looked like the trunk of an old tree, but no birds; beginning to be afraid islands not there. To-day it was said to the captain, in the hearing of all, that some of the men would not shrink, when a man was dead, from using the flesh, though they would not kill. Horrible! God give us all full use of our reason, and spare us from such things! 'From plague, pestilence, and famine; from battle and murder, and from sudden death, good Lord, deliver us!'
(Diary entry) June 6. Latitude 16 degrees 30 minutes, longitude (chron.) 134 degrees. Dry night and wind steady enough to require no change in sail; but this A.M. an attempt to lower it proved abortive. First t
he third mate tried and got up to the block, and fastened a temporary arrangement to reeve the halyards through, but had to come down, weak and almost fainting, before finishing; then Joe tried, and after twice ascending, fixed it and brought down the block; but it was very exhausting work, and afterward he was good for nothing all day. The clue-iron which we are trying to make serve for the broken block works, however, very indifferently, and will, I am afraid, soon cut the rope. It is very necessary to get everything connected with the sail in good easy running order before we get too weak to do anything with it.
Only three meals left.--Captain's Log.
(Diary entry) June 7. Latitude 16 degrees 35 minutes N., longitude 136 degrees 30 minutes W. Night wet and uncomfortable. To-day shows us pretty conclusively that the American Isles are not there, though we have had some signs that looked like them. At noon we decided to abandon looking any farther for them, and to-night haul a little more northerly, so as to get in the way of Sandwich Island vessels, which fortunately come down pretty well this way--say to latitude 19 degrees to 20 degrees to get the benefit of the trade-winds. Of course all the westing we have made is gain, and I hope the chronometer is wrong in our favour, for I do not see how any such delicate instrument can keep good time with the constant jarring and thumping we get from the sea. With the strong trade we have, I hope that a week from Sunday will put us in sight of the Sandwich Islands, if we are not safe by that time by being picked up.
It is twelve hundred miles to the Sandwich Islands; the provisions arevirtually exhausted, but not the perishing diarist's pluck.
(Diary entry) My cough troubled me a good deal last night, and therefore I got hardly any sleep at all. Still, I make out pretty well, and should not complain. Yesterday the third mate mended the block, and this P.M. the sail, after some difficulty, was got down, and Harry got to the top of the mast and rove the halyards through after some hardship, so that it now works easy and well. This getting up the mast is no easy matter at any time with the sea we have, and is very exhausting in our present state. We could only reward Harry by an extra ration of water. We have made good time and course to-day. Heading her up, however, makes the boat ship seas and keeps us all wet; however, it cannot be helped. Writing is a rather precarious thing these times. Our meal to-day for the fifteen consists of half a can of 'soup and boullie'; the other half is reserved for to-morrow. Henry still keeps up grandly, and is a great favourite. God grant he may be spared.
A better feeling prevails among the men.--Captain's Log.
(Diary entry) June 9. Latitude 17 degrees 53 minutes. Finished to-day, I may say, our whole stack of provisions.(2) We have only left a lower end of a ham-bone, with some of the outer rind and skin on. In regard to the water, however, I think we have got ten days' supply at our present rate of allowance. This, with what nourishment we can get from boot-legs and such chewable matter, we hope will enable us to weather it out till we get to the Sandwich Islands, or, sailing in the meantime in the track of vessels thither bound, be picked up. My hope is in the latter, for in all human probability I cannot stand the other. Still, we have been marvellously protected, and God, I hope, will preserve us all in His own good time and way. The men are getting weaker, but are still quiet and orderly.
(Diary entry) Sunday, June 10. Latitude 18 degrees 40 minutes, longitude 142 degrees 34 minutes. A pretty good night last night, with some wettings, and again another beautiful Sunday. I cannot but think how we should all enjoy it at home, and what a contrast is here! How terrible their suspense must begin to be! God grant that it may be relieved before very long, and He certainly seems to be with us in everything we do, and has preserved this boat miraculously; for since we left the ship we have sailed considerably over three thousand miles, which, taking into consideration our meagre stock of provisions, is almost unprecedented. As yet I do not feel the stint of food so much as I do that of water. Even Henry, who is naturally a good water-drinker, can save half of his allowance from time to time, when I cannot. My diseased throat may have something to do with that, however.
Nothing is now left which by any flattery can be called food. But theymust manage somehow for five days more, for at noon they have stilleight hundred miles to go. It is a race for life now.
This is no time for comments or other interruptions from me--everymoment is valuable. I will take up the boy brother's diary at thispoint, and clear the seas before it and let it fly.
HENRY FERGUSON'S LOG:
Sunday, June 10. Our ham-bone has given us a taste of food to-day, and we have got left a little meat and the remainder of the bone for tomorrow. Certainly, never was there such a sweet knuckle-one, or one that was so thoroughly appreciated.... I do not know that I feel any worse than I did last Sunday, notwithstanding the reduction of diet; and I trust that we may all have strength given us to sustain the sufferings and hardships of the coming week. We estimate that we are within seven hundred miles of the Sandwich Islands, and that our average, daily, is somewhat over a hundred miles, so that our hopes have some foundation in reason. Heaven send we may all live to see land!
June 11. Ate the meat and rind of our ham-bone, and have the bone and the greasy cloth from around the ham left to eat to-morrow. God send us birds or fish, and let us not perish of hunger, or be brought to the dreadful alternative of feeding on human flesh! As I feel now, I do not think anything could persuade me; but you cannot tell what you will do when you are reduced by hunger and your mind wandering. I hope and pray we can make out to reach the islands before we get to this strait; but we have one or two desperate men aboard, though they are quiet enough now. IT IS MY FIRM TRUST AND BELIEF THAT WE ARE GOING TO BE SAVED.
All food gone.--Captain's Log.(3)
(Ferguson's log continues)
June 12. Stiff breeze, and we are fairly flying--dead ahead of it --and toward the islands. Good hope, but the prospects of hunger are awful. Ate ham-bone to-day. It is the captain's birthday; he is fifty-four years old.
June 13. The ham-rags are not quite all gone yet, and the boot-legs, we find, are very palatable after we get the salt out of them. A little smoke, I think, does some little good; but I don't know.
June 14. Hunger does not pain us much, but we are dreadfully weak. Our water is getting frightfully low. God grant we may see land soon! NOTHING TO EAT, but feel better than I did yesterday. Toward evening saw a magnificent rainbow--THE FIRST WE HAD SEEN. Captain said, 'Cheer up, boys; it's a prophecy--IT'S THE BOW OF PROMISE!'
June 15. God be for ever praised for His infinite mercy! LAND IN SIGHT! rapidly neared it and soon were SURE of it.... Two noble Kanakas swam out and took the boat ashore. We were joyfully received by two white men--Mr. Jones and his steward Charley--and a crowd of native men, women, and children. They treated us splendidly--aided us, and carried us up the bank, and brought us water, poi, bananas, and green coconuts; but the white men took care of us and prevented those who would have eaten too much from doing so. Everybody overjoyed to see us, and all sympathy expressed in faces, deeds, and words. We were then helped up to the house; and help we needed. Mr. Jones and Charley are the only white men here. Treated us splendidly. Gave us first about a teaspoonful of spirits in water, and then to each a cup of warm tea, with a little bread. Takes EVERY care of us. Gave us later another cup of tea, and bread the same, and then let us go to rest. IT IS THE HAPPIEST DAY OF MY LIFE.... God in His mercy has heard our prayer.... Everybody is so kind. Words cannot tell.
June 16. Mr. Jones gave us a delightful
bed, and we surely had a good night's rest; but not sleep--we were too happy to sleep; would keep the reality and not let it turn to a delusion--dreaded that we might wake up and find ourselves in the boat again.
It is an amazing adventure. There is nothing of its sort in historythat surpasses it in impossibilities made possible. In one extraordinarydetail--the survival of every person in the boat--it probably standsalone in the history of adventures of its kinds. Usually merely a partof a boat's company survive--officers, mainly, and other educated andtenderly-reared men, unused to hardship and heavy labour; the untrained,roughly-reared hard workers succumb. But in this case even the rudestand roughest stood the privations and miseries of the voyage almost aswell as did the college-bred young brothers and the captain. I mean,physically. The minds of most of the sailors broke down in the fourthweek and went to temporary ruin, but physically the endurance exhibitedwas astonishing. Those men did not survive by any merit of their own, ofcourse, but by merit of the character and intelligence of the captain;they lived by the mastery of his spirit. Without him they wouldhave been children without a nurse; they would have exhausted theirprovisions in a week, and their pluck would not have lasted even as longas the provisions.
The boat came near to being wrecked at the last. As it approached theshore the sail was let go, and came down with a run; then the captainsaw that he was drifting swiftly toward an ugly reef, and an effortwas made to hoist the sail again; but it could not be done; the men'sstrength was wholly exhausted; they could not even pull an oar. Theywere helpless, and death imminent. It was then that they were discoveredby the two Kanakas who achieved the rescue. They swam out and manned theboat, and piloted her through a narrow and hardly noticeable break inthe reef--the only break in it in a stretch of thirty-five miles! Thespot where the landing was made was the only one in that stretch wherefooting could have been found on the shore; everywhere else precipicescame sheer down into forty fathoms of water. Also, in all that stretchthis was the only spot where anybody lived.
Within ten days after the landing all the men but one were up andcreeping about. Properly, they ought to have killed themselves withthe 'food' of the last few days--some of them, at any rate--men who hadfreighted their stomachs with strips of leather from old boots and withchips from the butter cask; a freightage which they did not get rid ofby digestion, but by other means. The captain and the two passengersdid not eat strips and chips, as the sailors did, but scraped theboot-leather and the wood, and made a pulp of the scrapings bymoistening them with water. The third mate told me that the boots wereold and full of holes; then added thoughtfully, 'but the holes digestedthe best.' Speaking of digestion, here is a remarkable thing, and worthnoting: during this strange voyage, and for a while afterward on shore,the bowels of some of the men virtually ceased from their functions; insome cases there was no action for twenty and thirty days, and in onecase for forty-four! Sleeping also came to be rare. Yet the men didvery well without it. During many days the captain did not sleep atall--twenty-one, I think, on one stretch.
When the landing was made, all the men were successfully protected fromover-eating except the 'Portyghee;' he escaped the watch and ate anincredible number of bananas: a hundred and fifty-two, the third matesaid, but this was undoubtedly an exaggeration; I think it was a hundredand fifty-one. He was already nearly half full of leather; it washanging out of his ears. (I do not state this on the third mate'sauthority, for we have seen what sort of a person he was; I state it onmy own.) The 'Portyghee' ought to have died, of course, and even nowit seems a pity that he didn't; but he got well, and as early as any ofthem; and all full of leather, too, the way he was, and butter-timberand handkerchiefs and bananas. Some of the men did eat handkerchiefs inthose last days, also socks; and he was one of them.
It is to the credit of the men that they did not kill the rooster thatcrowed so gallantly mornings. He lived eighteen days, and then stood upand stretched his neck and made a brave, weak effort to do his duty oncemore, and died in the act. It is a picturesque detail; and so is thatrainbow, too--the only one seen in the forty-three days,--raising itstriumphal arch in the skies for the sturdy fighters to sail under tovictory and rescue.
With ten days' provisions Captain Josiah Mitchell performed thismemorable voyage of forty-three days and eight hours in an open boat,sailing four thousand miles in reality and thirty-three hundred andsixty by direct courses, and brought every man safe to land. A bright,simple-hearted, unassuming, plucky, and most companionable man. Iwalked the deck with him twenty-eight days--when I was not copyingdiaries,--and I remember him with reverent honour. If he is alive he iseighty-six years old now.
If I remember rightly, Samuel Ferguson died soon after we reached SanFrancisco. I do not think he lived to see his home again; his diseasehad been seriously aggravated by his hardships.
For a time it was hoped that the two quarter-boats would presently beheard of, but this hope suffered disappointment. They went down with allon board, no doubt, not even sparing that knightly chief mate.
The authors of the diaries allowed me to copy them exactly as they werewritten, and the extracts that I have given are without any smoothingover or revision. These diaries are finely modest and unaffected, andwith unconscious and unintentional art they rise toward the climax withgraduated and gathering force and swing and dramatic intensity; theysweep you along with a cumulative rush, and when the cry rings out atlast, 'Land in sight!' your heart is in your mouth, and for a moment youthink it is you that have been saved. The last two paragraphs are notimprovable by anybody's art; they are literary gold; and their verypauses and uncompleted sentences have in them an eloquence not reachableby any words.
The interest of this story is unquenchable; it is of the sort that timecannot decay. I have not looked at the diaries for thirty-two years, butI find that they have lost nothing in that time. Lost? They have gained;for by some subtle law all tragic human experiences gain in pathos bythe perspective of time. We realize this when in Naples we stand musingover the poor Pompeian mother, lost in the historic storm of volcanicashes eighteen centuries ago, who lies with her child gripped close toher breast, trying to save it, and whose despair and grief havebeen preserved for us by the fiery envelope which took her life buteternalized her form and features. She moves us, she haunts us, shestays in our thoughts for many days, we do not know why, for she isnothing to us, she has been nothing to anyone for eighteen centuries;whereas of the like case to-day we should say, 'Poor thing! it ispitiful,' and forget it in an hour.
(1) There are nineteen days of voyaging ahead yet.--M.T.
(2) Six days to sail yet, nevertheless.--M.T.
(3) It was at this time discovered that the crazed sailors had gottenthe delusion that the captain had a million dollars in gold concealedaft, and they were conspiring to kill him and the two passengers andseize it.--M.T.