"Confidence is growing stronger,"—this is the fourth day,—"and there is considerable speculation as to the time we shall reach Newfoundland. The pilot who is to bring us into Trinity Bay is now in great repute, and is becoming a more important personage every day. We are really beginning to have strong hopes that his services will be called into requisition and that in the course of a few days more we will be in sight of land. But the sea is not at all so smooth as it was the day before: it is, in fact, so rough as to favor the belief that there must have been a severe gale a short time since in these latitudes. The condition of the vessel is such as to alarm us greatly for the safety of the cable should it come on to blow very hard, as the large amount already paid out and the quantity of coal consumed have lightened her so much as to render her rather uneasy in a heavy sea. The wind is increasing, and, although it has not yet attained the magnitude of a gale, it is blowing rather fresh for us in the present unsettled state of our minds. Both wind and sea are nearly abeam; and the rolling motion which the latter creates brings a strain upon the cable which gives rise to the most unpleasant feelings. The sea, too, seems to be getting worse every minute, and strikes the slender wire with all its force. Every surge of the ship affects it; and as it cuts through each wave it makes a small white line of foam to mark its track. The sight of that thread-like wire battling with the sea produces a feeling somewhat akin to that with which you would watch the struggles of a drowning man whom you have not the power of assisting. You can only look on and trust either that the sea will go down or that the cable may be able to resist the force of the waves successfully. Of the former there is very little prospect, but of the latter there is every reason for hope. The contest has been going on now for several hours, and there is no more sign of the cable parting than when it commenced. The electricians report the continuity perfect; and the signals which are received at intervals from the Agamemnon show that that vessel is getting along with her part of the work in admirable style. What more can we desire?"
An incident occurring upon the fifth day is thus described:—"I have said that, despite the bad weather and heavy sea, the paying-out process was going on well; but during the night the continuity was again affected; and although it was restored and became as strong as ever, yet it was for about three hours a very unpleasant affair. It was subsequently found that the difficulty was caused by a defect of insulation in a part of the wardroom coil, which was cut out in time to prevent any serious consequences. There were only a few on board the ship, however, aware of the occurrence until after the defect was removed and the electrical communication was re-established between the two ships. Both Mr. Laws and Mr. De Santy—the two electricians on the Niagara—were of the opinion that the insulation was broken in some part of the wardroom coil; and, on using the tests for the purpose of ascertaining the precise point, they found that it was about sixty miles from the bottom of that coil, and between three or four hundred from the part which was then paying out. The cable was immediately cut at this point and spliced to a deck coil of ninety miles, which it was intended to reserve for laying in shallow water and was therefore kept for Trinity Bay. About four o'clock in the morning the continuity was finally restored, and all was going on as well as if nothing had occurred to disturb the confidence we felt in the success of the expedition."
Upon the sixth day—the 3d of August, the anniversary of the day upon which Columbus sailed from Palos—the great work took place of the change from "the fore-hold coil to that in the wardroom, which are at least two hundred feet apart. This occurred at eight o'clock in the morning; and, as the time was known to all on board, there was even a larger crowd assembled to witness it than I observed at any of the other changes. It was considered a most critical time; and, although the operation turned out to be very simple, it was anticipated by some with considerable uneasiness. The splice between the two coils had been made some hours in advance, and men were stationed all along the line of its course from the hold to the wardroom. Mr. Everett and Mr. Woodhouse were both on hand; the best men had been picked out to pass up the bight, when the last turn should be reached; and one man, named Henry Paine, a splicer, was specially appointed to walk forward with the bight to the after or wardroom coil. As the last flake was about to be paid out the ship was slowed down, and by the time the last three or four turns came to be paid out she could hardly be said to be moving through the water. The line came up more slowly from the hold, until we were nearing the bight, where it could not have been going out faster than half a mile an hour. One more turn and the bight comes up. There is not a sound to be heard from the crowd who are watching it with eager and anxious faces from every point of view. No one speaks, or has ventured to speak for the last minute, except the engineers, and they have very little to say, for their orders are conveyed in the most laconic style; and the quick 'ay, ay!' of the men show that they understand the full value of time. 'Now, men,' says Mr. Everett, 'look out for the bight,' as those in the hold hand it up to the men on the orlop deck, and it is passed from hand to hand till it reaches the platform and long passage which has been built upon the spar-deck for this part of the work. Here the bight arrives at last, and Paine takes it in his hand, paying out as he follows the line of the cable to the wardroom coil. How anxiously the men watch him as he walks that terrible distance of two hundred feet, and think that if he should happen to trip or stumble while he holds that bight in his hand the great enterprise may end in disaster! It is not a difficult task; but how often have things that are so easily performed been defeated by want of coolness! There is, however, such an easy self-possession about the man, as he comes slowly aft with the long black line, that inspires confidence. All hands have deserted the decks below, and follow him as he walks aft, and one, in his impatience to get a glimpse of him, has nearly fallen through the skylight of the engine-room, in which he has smashed several panes of glass in the effort to save himself. 'Pick up the pieces,' says Paine, in a vein of quiet humor, as he proceeds on his course without interruption, and, coming up to the wheel, which is immediately above the wardroom, he straightens the bight, and the cable begins to run out from the top of the coil on the deck beneath. His work is done; and, as the line passes out of his hands, he receives a round of applause from the hands of the spectators, who, but for those terrible navy rules, would have greeted him with a cheer that would have done his heart good. As it is, they must give vent to their feelings in some way; and the exclamations of 'Well done!' 'That's the fellow!' 'Good boy, Paine!' are not a bad compromise, after all. Besides, it might be rather premature at this time to indulge in any triumphant expression of feeling before we are even in sight of land."
Upon the seventh day land was discovered from the mast-head. "It is now half-past two o'clock, and we are entering Trinity Bay at a speed of seven and a half knots an hour, paying out the cable at a very slight increase on the same rate. The curve which it forms between the ship and the water proves that there is little or no strain upon it, and proves also another thing,—that it can be run out at eight, nine, and, I believe, ten miles with the greatest safety. This, however, as I have previously stated, cannot be done with old cable that has been coiled so often as to have a tendency to kink; and there is—as has been already intimated—some of this kind which we shall be obliged to pay out before landing. A signal signifying 'all well' has been received from the Agamemnon, which must now be on the point of landing her cable at Valentia Bay, Ireland, which is about sixteen hundred and forty miles from our present position."
THE TELEGRAPHIC PLATEAU.
At eight o'clock in the evening, while the Niagara was proceeding up Trinity Bay and was yet some eighteen miles distant from the landing-place, Mr. Field left the ship for the purpose of visiting the telegraph station and sending a despatch to the United States. "It was near two o'clock in the morning before he arrived at the beach; and, as it was quite dark, he had considerable difficulty in finding the path that led up to the station. There was no house in sight, and the whole scene was as dreary and as desolate as a wilderness at night could be. A silence as of the grave reigned over every thing before him; while behind, at a distance of a mile, he could see the huge hull of the Niagara looming up indistinctly through the gloom of night, and the light of the lamps on her deck making the darkness still darker and blacker by the contrast. He entered the narrow road, and after a journey of what appeared to be twenty miles he came in sight of the station, which stands about half a mile from the beach. There was, however, no sign of life there; and the house in its stillness looked strangely in unison with every thing around. It had a deserted look, as if it had long since ceased to be the habitation of man. In vain he looked for a door in the front; but there was no entrance there. He looked up at the windows, in the hope, perhaps, of being able to enter by that way; but the windows in the lower story were beyond his reach; and the house, having been partly built on piles, had the appearance of being raised on stilts. A detour of the establishment, however, led to the discovery of a door in the side; and through this he finally succeeded in effecting an entrance. The noise he made in getting in, it was natural to expect, would arouse the inmates; but there seemed either to be no inmates to arouse, or those inmates were not easily disturbed. He stopped for a moment to listen, and as he listened he heard the breathing of sleepers in an apartment near him. The door was immediately thrown open, and in a few seconds the sleepers were awake,—wide awake, and opening their eyes wider and wider as the wonderful news fell upon their astonished and delighted ears. They could hardly believe the evidence of their senses, and were bewildered at what they heard. The cable laid, when, but a few short weeks before, they had received the news of disaster and defeat, and they had looked only to the far-distant future for the accomplishment of the great work! The cable laid, and they unconscious of it!—they, who had waited and watched so many weary days and weeks for the ships they had begun to believe would never come! And they were now in the bay,—those same ships,—within a mile of them! Can they be dreaming? Dreaming! No. What they have heard is true,—all true; and there is the living witness before them.