It is frightful to see a fellow creature perish before one’s eyes, and at the same time know that one is powerless to render the least assistance—for before the Sagamore could have been brought to a stand, Gene would have been a mile or more astern. But even had he then been in plain sight, no life boat ever constructed could have lived five seconds in that boiling cauldron. The instant it touched the water, it would have capsized or been crushed like an egg shell against the vessel’s side. Death is repulsive at best to the young, even when the path leading to it is smoothed over and made easier by loving friends and relatives, or by the consolations of religious faith. But to be alive and well one second, and then, before sixty seconds have told a minute, to be swept from a vessel’s deck and left to drown—this is horrible beyond conception. What mental tortures must that poor fellow have suffered before losing consciousness, to see the ship, his only hope, vanishing in the distance; and to know that there was not even one chance in a thousand for his rescue. Thus was Gene lost off Cape Horn.
Meanwhile, others might share the same fate unless prompt action was taken, and the wonder was that the mate and his whole watch had not perished with Gene. When the ship freed herself from that sea, Harry and Smith managed to rise unassisted, but Norris lay as one dead, with blood trickling from a wound on the forehead, where he had been thrown against the iron stanchion. Mr. Marsh ran to where he lay, and dragged the unconscious sailor from his perilous position, into the forecastle. Here he had to be left until the job of wearing ship was over, for the Sagamore was in more peril during those few minutes than at any time during the voyage.
She came around without accident, though it was a close shave, and one roll in particular, threw her over until the masts were almost parallel with the ocean. She lay to, well, shipping comparatively little water, and the mate at once investigated the injuries of Norris. He had regained his senses, but felt badly, having received a hard blow on the knee, besides an internal hurt which caused him much pain. The wound on the head proved not to be serious, and after his external injuries had received attention, he was helped to his bunk and relieved from duty until complete rest should have restored him.
The gale blew itself out in twelve hours, and broke shortly after breakfast, a fine day succeeding a night of storm, anxiety, and death. But an atmosphere of gloom pervaded the ship. There was one empty bunk in the forecastle; one man less to stand his trick at the wheel or on the lookout; one hand less to sing out as the watch hauled on the braces; and that one was the merriest and most light-hearted of all. His intelligence and ready ability were in marked contrast to the ignorance and stupidity which characterized most of the crew, and he was a pronounced favorite with all on board;—most of all with Mr. Marsh, who was difficult to please. The mate felt very badly over the matter, and would not discuss it, even with the passengers. Captain Meade deplored the calamity also, and said that during his score of years as master, he had never before lost a man overboard from the deck, though three had been killed at various times by falling from the yards.
The fatality was the subject of much discussion among the crew.
“If he’d of held onto the lines when he was a-crossin’ of the deck, he’d been here now,” said one.
“That’s right,” said another. “I wonder when the captain’ll auction off his clothes?”
“Not for a month, mebbe. He had some good togs, but I’d be afeerd to wear ’em.”
“I never seen such an awful sea; it looked half way up to the fore yard. Seems like Gene was too slick a bird not to hold on to somethin’, though. I’ll warrant he jumped for the main riggin’, and missed it. Only yesterday he was a-tellin’ of me how glad he would be when the ship got into warmer latitudes.”
San Quentin had so far said nothing, but now the old man gave his opinion in a loud and authoritative voice that silenced the discussion. “There ain’t no use of explainin’ how he was carried overboard, nor sayin’ he’d be here now ‘if’ somethin’ hadn’t happened. His time had come, and he had to go, and that’s all there is about it. I’m more’n twice as old as he was, but my time ain’t come, nor it won’t for ten years yet.” With which prophecy the subject was dismissed.