ssed out of sight. As the last man came I
held my breath; he was alive when taken from the wreck, but had died in
the boat. Four men bore him on their shoulders, and a flag flung over
the face mercifully concealed what was most shocking of the dreadful
sight; but they had removed his boots and socks to chafe his feet
before he died, and had slipped a pair of mittens over the toes, which
left the ankles naked. This was the body of Howard Primrose Fraser,
the second mate of the lost ship, and her drowned captain's brother. I
had often met men newly-rescued from shipwreck, but never remember
having beheld more mental anguish and physical suffering than was
expressed in the countenances and movements of these eleven sailors.
Their story as told to me is a striking and memorable illustration of
endurance and hardship on the one hand, and of the finest heroical
humanity on the other, in every sense worthy to be known to the British
public. I got the whole narrative direct from the chief mate, Mr.
William Meldrum Lloyd, and it shall be related here as nearly as
possible in his own words.

No. 1.--_The Mate's Account_.

'Our ship was the Indian Chief, of 1238 tons register; our skipper's
name was Fraser, and we were bound with a general cargo to Yokohama.
There were twenty-nine souls on board, counting the North-country
pilot. We were four days out from Middlesbrough, but it had been thick
weather ever since the afternoon of the Sunday on which we sailed. All
had gone well with us, however, so far, and on Wednesday morning, at
half-past two, we made the Knock Light. You must know, sir, that
hereabouts the water is just a network of shoals; for to the southward
lies the Knock, and close over against it stretches the Long Sand, and
beyond, down to the westward, is the Sunk Sand. Shortly after the
Knock Light had hove in sight, the wind shifted to the eastward and
brought a squall of rain. We were under all plain sail at the time,
with the exception of the royals, which were furled, and the main sail
that hung in the buntlines. The Long Sand was to leeward, and finding
that we were drifting that way the order was given to put the ship
about. It was very dark, the wind breezing up sharper and sharper, and
cold as death. The helm was put down, but the main braces fouled, and
before they could be cleared the vessel had missed stays and was in
irons. We then went to work to wear the ship, but there was much
confusi