“For some reason no attention was paid to the men who were put in our boat. One of them was an undersized Chinaman and the other was an Oriental of some kind. When the lifeboat struck the water they crawled up in the bottom and began to moan and cry. They refused to take their places at the oars and first class women passengers had to man many of the rowlocks. Still none of us thought that the great Titanic would sink. We rowed two hundred yards away, as they had told us, watching the great ship. Then the lights began to go out and then came a terrible crash like dynamite.

“I heard a woman in the bow scream and then came three more terrific explosions. The boat gave a sudden lurch and then we saw the men jumping from the decks. Some of us prayed and I heard women curse, but the most terrible thing was the conduct of the Chinaman and the Oriental. They threw themselves about the boat in absolute fits and almost upset the boat. They were a menace during the whole night and in the morning when the light began to come in the east and when the women were exhausted from trying to man the oars, the two of them found some cigarettes and lay in the bottom of the boat and smoked while we tried to work the oars.”

There is no survivor better qualified to tell of the last incidents aboard the vessel than Mr. Stengel is. He was one of the last three men to leave the boat. He is a man of scientific turn of mind and is in possession of some valuable data concerning the wreck.

LITTLE DISORDER ON BOARD.

“As my wife has told you, there was but little disorder on board after the crash,” he said. “I realized the seriousness of the situation immediately, because I saw Captain Smith come out of the cabin. He was closely followed by Mr. and Mrs. George Widener, of Philadelphia.

“‘What is the outlook?’ I heard Mr. Widener inquire. ‘It is extremely serious, gentlemen,’ he said. ‘Please keep cool and do what you can to help us.’”

Deck stewards rushed through the corridors rapping frantically on the doors of the occupied cabins. All were told that the danger was imminent. Some heeded and grasping the first clothing they could find, they rushed on deck. Others refused to come out. They would not believe there was danger.

On deck the boat crews were all at their posts. The big lifeboats had been shoved around ready to be put over the side. Women and children were picked up bodily and thrown into them. The rule of the sea, women and children first, was being enforced.

One after the other the boats went over the side. Then a cry was set up: “There are no more boats!” was the shout. Consternation seized upon all that remained. They had believed there would be room for all. Uncontrollable terror seized many. They fought for the life belts. Some frantically tried to tear loose deck fittings hoping to make small rafts that would sustain them until help would come. But everything was bolted fast. Then, fearful that they would be dragged to death in the swirling suction that would follow, the men began to leap into the ice filled ocean.