LIFEBOAT BEGINS TO FILL.
“One of the lifeboats had a big hole in the bottom. A plug had fallen out, I believe. When it was loaded and lowered over the side into the sea it began to fill at once. At this point the fifth officer proved himself a hero. Women in the leaking boat were screaming with fright and tearing off their clothing in wild and fruitless efforts to plug up the hole.
“The boat filled to the gunwhales before any were saved. The brave fifth officer to my knowledge rescued nineteen of the women in this boat, some of whom had fallen over the side into the sea. It was finally hauled alongside and replugged, loaded and relaunched.
“I was asleep in my cabin when the crash came,” said Mrs. Bucknell, beginning her account of the disaster. “I cannot explain just what the noise was like, except that it was horrible and sounded like a mixture of thunder and explosions.
“In a moment there was a roaring sound and I knew that something serious was the matter. The corridors filled rapidly with frightened passengers and then the stewards and officers came, reassuring us with the announcement that everything was all right and that only a small hole had been stove in the bow.
“As I stepped out of my stateroom I saw lying before me on the floor a number of fragments of ice as big as my fists. More was crumbled about the porthole, and it flashed over me at once just what had happened.
“‘We have hit an iceberg,’ I said to my maid, ‘get dressed at once.’
“We hurried into our clothes, and I took the precaution to get fully dressed. So did my maid. I even thought to wrap myself in my warm fur coat, for even then I felt sure we would have to take to the boats. Something told me the damage was greater than we had been told.
“My fears were realized a few minutes later when a steward walked briskly down the corridor, calling to the passengers who had retired again to hurry into their clothes and get on deck at once. I could see by this man’s drawn and haggard face that something dreadful had happened.