for her
at her birth, suddenly and without warning enters upon her
death-struggle with the rocks and appeals for help. There is no wonder
that brave men--men having withstood the shock of battle and endured
the hardships of the fiercest storms--should feel their nerves shaken
from their first glance at the situation.

The captain had immediately followed his orders, to take in the sails
that were forging us on towards the reef, by an order to back engines.
Alas! the steam was too low to give more than a few turns to the
wheels, and they could not overcome the momentum of the ship. In less
than an hour of the fierce pounding the jagged rock broke through the
hull and tore up the engine and fire room floor; the water rushed in
and reached the fires; the doom of our good ship was now apparent and
sealed.

I hastily returned to my stateroom, secured more clothing, together
with some of the ship's papers, then ascended to the hurricane deck to
await developments or to stand by to do rescue work as ordered. I had
participated in the past in drills that are called in Navy Regulations
"abandoned ship." In these drills every one on board is supposed to
leave the vessel and take station as assigned in one of the ship's
boats. I had only taken part in these drills during calm weather at
sea, and thought it a pretty sight to see all the boats completely
equipped and lying off in view of the deserted vessel. Here, however,
no programme could help us. Our captain's judgment and quickness of
decision must control events as they develop.

The night was clear and starlit, but we could see nothing of any land.
Perhaps we had struck on some uncharted reef, and while strenuously
employed in getting the boats over the side opposite the sea we waited
anxiously for daylight. The scene was one for a lifelong remembrance
and is beyond my power adequately and calmly to describe.

There was at first some confusion, but the stern and composed attitude
of the captain and his sharp, clear orders soon brought every one to
his senses, and order was restored.

One of the most reassuring things to me at this time was the sight of
our colored wardroom steward in double irons for some offense, sitting
on a hatch of the hurricane deck, whistling "Way down upon the Suwanee
River." He seemed to me far from realizing the gravity of the
situation, or else to possess great courage. At any rate, it diverted
my thoughts of danger into other channels. He sa