"When the captain recovered he was a changed man. His daughter was the only thing to him in the world, and her happiness had been the greatest delight and pleasure. But now he rarely appeared at meals, and the handling of the ship devolved on me. I could not rouse him sufficiently to learn what course to take or what disposition to make of much of the cargo.
"Two months after the sad event he called me to his cabin, and he was lying down, weak and emaciated. 'I have asked you to come because there are some things I want to place in your hands. I have no further use for them, as the effect of the plague has never left me, and I am glad of it.
"'You may break the seal of this when I am dead.' This was most heartrending, coming from a man I loved better than any one in the world excepting my wife. He died that night, in silence, and without a soul near him.
"We were then on the broad sea, west of Australia, and before the funeral services were to take place I opened the sealed package, and I learned that the ship and cargo, together with all securities and funds in the hands of his bankers, were willed to me, and I was enjoined to commit his body to the sea.
"I changed the course of the ship to the nearest port, and sought the United States Consul, in order to register the papers, and to establish, by the record there, the new ownership of the vessel.
"When I returned to the ship something seemed to prevent me from going aboard. It was such a weird and ghastly feeling that I did not rebel against the warning. Indeed, I was relieved that the indescribable something, which men sometimes in that condition feel, turned me away. The only thing that remained close to my heart were the things that my loved one wore, and those things she treasured, and the store of books.
"All those I had removed, but I could never go aboard that ship again. I advertised the ship for sale, and it soon found a purchaser, and I was a wanderer on the face of the earth. My parents were both dead, and I had no brothers or sisters living.
"Where should I go, or what pursuit should I follow? I went through India, listlessly, and from a Mediterranean port sailed for England—anywhere. But we landed at Gibraltar. There I saw a troop of smart English on the way to Africa. I was imbued with the spirit of adventure, and I offered to join, but was refused, as I was not a subject of the Queen. But later I knew how to correct that, and I sailed with the next detachment to the south, and for two years I took part in the Matabela campaign, where the fighting was more bitter and relentless than in any colonial contest England had ever engaged in. I was severely wounded, and sent to England at the close of my term of service and received an honorable discharge. In the meantime I learned that all the funds from the proceeds of the ship had been swallowed up in a bank disaster, where they had been deposited, and I was left with nothing but the little I had saved.
"My discharge finally served the purpose of securing me a position as a tutor to a young lord, and through him I later on obtained a berth as instructor in a well-known institution. But this was too tame for me. I went to Greece and entered the army, and fought through two campaigns against the Turks, and when the war ended I took the first ship and sailed for New York.
"Within a day after landing in that city I joined the army and was sent west, where, within six months, it landed me in a campaign under General Crook against the Apaches of the Southwest, and was present at the capture of Geronimo, the most bloodthirsty devil that was ever permitted to live. From there we went to the north, and we had a repetition of the experiences against the most skilled warriors on the American continent, the Siouxs and the Arapahoes.