larger than the _Gull_--that the 'rats'
should leave the sinking ship for one that looked like she might go on
floating for a while. I'm not trying to make an excuse for what
happened, but only explaining it. The Lord knows we paid a big enough
price for it, anyhow.

"The _Bow_ hit us like a thousand o' bricks just before the bridge, and
cut more than half-way through to the port side. The shock seemed to
knock the deck right out from under my feet, and I was slammed hard
against the starboard wire rail, which must have kept me from being
ditched then and there. A lot of the wreckage from the _Bow's_ shot-up
bridge showered down on the _Seagull's_ fo'c'sl', but my friend, Jock
Campbell, floated down on the side toward the bridge, so I had no chance
to welcome him. From where I was when I pulled up to my feet, it looked
as if the _Bow_ only lacked a few feet from cutting all the way through
us, and as soon as I saw her screws beating up the sea as she tried to
go astern, I had the feeling that the whole fo'c'sl' of the _Gull_ must
break off and sink as soon as the 'plug' was pulled out. I was still
sitting tight, though, when that howl started that we were already
breaking off and going down, and--well, I joined the rush, and it was
just as easy as stepping from a launch to the side of a quay. I'm not
trying to make out a case for anybody, but the little bunch of us who
climbed to the _Bow_ from that half-cut-off fo'c'sl' sure had more
excuse than them that swarmed over from aft and leaving the main solid
lump of the ship. But we none of us had no business clambering off till
we were ordered. In doing that we were only asking for trouble, and we
sure got it.

"The fo'c'sl' of the _Bow_ was all buckled up in waves from the
collision, and there was a slipperiness underfoot that I twigged didn't
come from sea water just as soon as I stumbled over the bodies lying
round the wreck of the port foremost gun where I climbed over. We
couldn't get aft very well on account of the smashed bridge, and so the
bunch of us just huddled up there like a lot of sheep, waiting for some
one to tell us what to do. The captain had already left the bridge and
was conning her from aft--or possibly the engine-room--at this time.
From the way she was shaking and swinging, I knew they were trying to
worry her nose out, putting the engines astern, now one and now the
other. The clanking and the grinding was something fierce, but pretty
soon she be