Into one of the last of the lifeboats that were launched two Chinamen, employed in the galley, had hidden themselves. They were stretched in the bottom of the boat, face downward, and made no sound. So excited were the women that they did not notice the presence of the Chinese until the boat had pulled off from the Titanic. Then the officer in charge drew his revolver and shot both to death. The bodies were tumbled overboard.
The weather was very cold and the sea was filled with floating ice. All were warned before getting into the boats to dress as warmly as possible. By the time the boats were filled the water had entered the engine-room and the ship was drifting helplessly. About 2 o’clock Captain Smith, who had been standing upon the bridge with a megaphone to his mouth, again went to the wireless cabin.
“Men,” he said to Phillips and Bride, with a break in his voice, “you have done your full duty. You can do no more. Abandon your cabin, for it is now every man for himself.”
Bride left the cabin, but Phillips still clung to his key. He perished. The saving of Bride, the second wireless man, was only one of a series of thrilling escapes. Wearing a life belt, Bride went upon deck. He saw a dozen men passengers tugging at a collapsible boat trying to work it to the edge of the deck.
BRIDE SWEPT OVERBOARD.
The wireless man went to their assistance and they had got it nearly to the point from which they could swing it over, when a wave rolled over the deck. Bride, who had hold of an oar lock, was swept overboard with the boat. The next thing he knew he was struggling in the water beneath the boat.
The icy water struck a chill through him. He realized that unless he got from beneath the boat he would drown. Diving deeply, he came up on the outside of the gunwale and grasped it. On every hand was wreckage of all kinds and struggling men who had been washed overboard by the submerging comber. Bride clung to the craft until he saw another boat near by. Exerting all his strength, he swam to this boat and was pulled in it more dead than alive.
By this time all the boats and life rafts had been taken from the ship. The boats were ringed about the ship from 150 feet to 1,000 yards distant. Their occupants could see the lights burning on the vessel which had settled low in the water.
Suddenly as they looked great billows of live sparks rose up through the four funnels. These were followed by billowing clouds of smoke and steam. The rush of water had reached the boiler rooms and the boilers had exploded. After this the great vessel sank more rapidly and within less than twenty minutes had plunged to her grave, two miles beneath the surface.
In the meantime, however, those upon the sinking ship, who knew that they had only a few hours at most to live, lived up to the most splendid example of Anglo-Saxon courage. As the ship sank lower those on board climbed higher, prolonging life to the last minute. Frenzied search was made of every part of the decks by those who hoped that the sailors had overlooked a life raft or small boat which might be used. Their search was vain.