I remember the scene impelled me to sudden laughter, and in the next
instant I realized I was becoming hysterical myself; for these were women
of my own kind, like my mother and sisters, with the fear of death upon
them and unwilling to die. And I remember that the sounds they made
reminded me of the squealing of pigs under the knife of the butcher, and
I was struck with horror at the vividness of the analogy. These women,
capable of the most sublime emotions, of the tenderest sympathies, were
open-mouthed and screaming. They wanted to live, they were helpless,
like rats in a trap, and they screamed.

The horror of it drove me out on deck. I was feeling sick and squeamish,
and sat down on a bench. In a hazy way I saw and heard men rushing and
shouting as they strove to lower the boats. It was just as I had read
descriptions of such scenes in books. The tackles jammed. Nothing
worked. One boat lowered away with the plugs out, filled with women and
children and then with water, and capsized. Another boat had been
lowered by one end, and still hung in the tackle by the other end, where
it had been abandoned. Nothing was to be seen of the strange steamboat
which had caused the disaster, though I heard men saying that she would
undoubtedly send boats to our assistance.

I descended to the lower deck. The _Martinez_ was sinking fast, for the
water was very near. Numbers of the passengers were leaping overboard.
Others, in the water, were clamouring to be taken aboard again. No one
heeded them. A cry arose that we were sinking. I was seized by the
consequent panic, and went over the side in a surge of bodies. How I
went over I do not know, though I did know, and instantly, why those in
the water were so desirous of getting back on the steamer. The water was
cold--so cold that it was painful. The pang, as I plunged into it, was
as quick and sharp as that of fire. It bit to the marrow. It was like
the grip of death. I gasped with the anguish and shock of it, filling my
lungs before the life-preserver popped me to the surface. The taste of
the salt was strong in my mouth, and I was strangling with the acrid
stuff in my throat and lungs.

But it was the cold that was most distressing. I felt that I could
survive but a few minutes. People were struggling and floundering in the
water about me. I could hear them crying out to one another. And I
heard, also, the sound of oars. Evidently the strange stea