The Long Journey

by Elsie Singmaster

Finally the long storm died away. The passengers were startled to realize that the Lyon shook and quivered no longer, that silence had succeeded the dreadful creaking in the timbers and the fearful whistling in the rigging, and that as the storm abated they had each one fallen asleep.

Now followed many days of cold, bright weather. Again the travelers sought the deck and the sunshine. Peter Zenger was able to remind Conrad one day, with a weak little smile, of the advice given by the book of directions.

"It would have taken a pretty lively swing to prepare us for such a shaking," said he.

In a day or two Peter lifted his drum and the band returned to its practicing. At first they played solemn tunes; then, with returning color to their cheeks, came fresh cheerfulness and courage. Even the older folk joined cheerfully in "Susy, dear Susy." The sailors mended the sails, the girls took out their knitting, and the children played about on the deck.

But the whole-hearted gayety of the early journey did not return. The great storm had taken fearful toll, and there were already twenty passengers less than there had been at the beginning. The crowding of the ship had become a serious menace to health. There were a few sick persons at whom the captain looked more anxiously than he had looked at the angry clouds or the tempestuous sea. Not the least of the dangers of the long journey were various diseases, contagious and deadly, which, once started, could scarcely be checked.

Now another terrible peril threatened the ship Lyon. The supply of food brought by the passengers was entirely exhausted, and that furnished by the ship was small in quantity and hardly edible. The drinking-water had become foul, and through a leak in one of the wooden casks a large quantity had been lost. Passengers and crew watched the sky for a cloud.

When at last the cloud appeared, it was accompanied again by the terrible wind and the heaving sea of the great storm. Again the passengers spent a week in the hold while the ship battled with a tempest which broke the rudder. Their respect for the captain and the stanch vessel which carried them grew to admiration and then to awe.

"It is no wonder they call the ship 'she,'" said Conrad feebly. "One would think it was alive. It is well named 'Lyon,' for it fights for us like a lion."

Again the passengers returned to the deck, more weak and miserable than before. The supply of water gathered in the storm sank lower and lower in the cask, the rations of salt pork and sea biscuit became daily smaller. Finally a day dawned when the supply of water was gone and the supply of food so low that starvation and death were imminent. John Conrad went about from group to group telling of the glories of the heavenly country to which their passage seemed now but the matter of a short time.