It rained heavily all that day. Late in the afternoon we got some
wind, and all hands turned out to trim sail. Action was a relief,
and the weather suited our disheartened state better than had the
pitiless August sun, the glaring white of deck and canvas, and the
heat.
The heavy drops splashed and broke on top of the jolly-boat, and,
as the wind came up, it rode behind us like a live thing.
Our distress signal hung sodden, too wet to give more than a
dejected response to the wind that tugged at it. Late in the
afternoon we sighted a large steamer, and when, as darkness came
on, she showed no indication of changing her course, Burns and I
sent up a rocket and blew the fog horn steadily. She altered her
course then and came towards us, and we ran up our code flags for
immediate assistance; but she veered off shortly after, and went
on her way. We made no further effort to attract her attention.
Burns thought her a passenger steamer for the Bermudas, and, as
her way was not ours, she could not have been of much assistance.
One or two of the men were already showing signs of strain. Oleson,
the Swede, developed a chill, followed by fever and a mild delirium,
and Adams complained of sore throat and nausea. Oleson's illness
was genuine enough. Adams I suspected of malingering. He had told
the men he would not go up to the crow's-nest again without a
revolver, and this I would not permit.
Our original crew had numbered nine--with the cook and Williams,
eleven. But the two Negroes were not seamen, and were frightened
into a state bordering on collapse. Of the men actually useful,
there were left only five: Clarke, McNamara, Charlie Jones, Burns,
and myself; and I was a negligible quantity as regarded the working
of the ship.
With Burns and myself on guard duty, the burden fell on Clarke,
McNamara, and Jones. A suggestion of mine that we release Singleton
was instantly vetoed by the men. It was arranged, finally, that
Clarke and McNamara take alternate watches at the wheel, and Jones
be given the lookout for the night, to be relieved by either Burns
or myself.
I watched the weather anxiously. We were too short-handed to manage
any sort of a gale; and yet, the urgency of our return made it unwise
to shorten canvas too much. It was as well, perhaps, that I had so
much to distract my mind from the situation in the after house.
The second of the series of curious incidents that complicated our
return voyage occurred that night. I was on watch from eight bells
midnight until four in the morning. Jones was in the crow's-nest,
McNamara at the wheel. I was at the starboard forward corner of
the after house, looking over the rail. I thought that I had seen
the lights of a steamer.