My Debut as a Literary Person

by Mark Twain

In those early days I had already published one little thing ('TheJumping Frog') in an Eastern paper, but I did not consider that thatcounted. In my view, a person who published things in a mere newspapercould not properly claim recognition as a Literary Person: he must riseaway above that; he must appear in a magazine. He would then be aLiterary Person; also, he would be famous--right away. These twoambitions were strong upon me. This was in 1866. I prepared mycontribution, and then looked around for the best magazine to go up toglory in. I selected the most important one in New York. Thecontribution was accepted. I signed it 'Mark Twain;' for that name hadsome currency on the Pacific coast, and it was my idea to spread it allover the world, now, at this one jump. The article appeared in theDecember number, and I sat up a month waiting for the January number; forthat one would contain the year's list of contributors, my name would bein it, and I should be famous and could give the banquet I wasmeditating.I did not give the banquet. I had not written the 'Mark Twain'distinctly; it was a fresh name to Eastern printers, and they put it'Mike Swain' or 'MacSwain,' I do not remember which. At any rate, I wasnot celebrated and I did not give the banquet. I was a Literary Person,but that was all--a buried one; buried alive.My article was about the burning of the clipper-ship 'Hornet' on theline, May 3, 1866. There were thirty-one men on board at the time, and Iwas in Honolulu when the fifteen lean and ghostly survivors arrived thereafter a voyage of forty-three days in an open boat, through the blazingtropics, on ten days' rations of food. A very remarkable trip; but itwas conducted by a captain who was a remarkable man, otherwise therewould have been no survivors. He was a New Englander of the bestsea-going stock of the old capable times--Captain Josiah Mitchell.I was in the islands to write letters for the weekly edition of theSacramento 'Union,' a rich and influential daily journal which hadn't anyuse for them, but could afford to spend twenty dollars a week fornothing. The proprietors were lovable and well-beloved men: long agodead, no doubt, but in me there is at least one person who still holdsthem in grateful remembrance; for I dearly wanted to see the islands, andthey listened to me and gave me the opportunity when there was butslender likelihood that it could profit them in any way.I had been in the islands several months when the survivors arrived. Iwas laid up in my room at the time, and unable to walk. Here was a greatoccasion to serve my journal, and I not able to take advantage of it.Necessarily I was in deep trouble. But by good luck his Excellency AnsonBurlingame was there at the time, on his way to take up his post inChina, where he did such good work for the United States. He came andput me on a stretcher and had me carried to the hospital where theshipwrecked men were, and I never needed to ask a question. He attendedto all of that himself, and I had nothing to do but make the notes. Itwas like him to take that trouble. He was a great man and a greatAmerican, and it was in his fine nature to come down from his high officeand do a friendly turn whenever he could.We got through with this work at six in the evening. I took no dinner,for there was no time to spare if I would beat the other correspondents.I spent four hours arranging the notes in their proper order, then wroteall night and beyond it; with this result: that I had a very long anddetailed account of the 'Hornet' episode ready at nine in the morning,while the other correspondents of the San Francisco journals had nothingbut a brief outline report--for they didn't sit up. The now-and-thenschooner was to sail for San Francisco about nine; when I reached thedock she was free forward and was just casting off her stern-line. Myfat envelope was thrown by a strong hand, and fell on board all right,and my victory was a safe thing. All in due time the ship reached SanFrancisco, but it was my complete report which made the stir and wastelegraphed to the New York papers, by Mr. Cash; he was in charge of thePacific bureau of the 'New York Herald' at the time.When I returned to California by-and-by, I went up to Sacramento andpresented a bill for general correspondence at twenty dollars a week. Itwas paid. Then I presented a bill for 'special' service on the 'Hornet'matter of three columns of solid nonpareil at a hundred dollars a column.The cashier didn't faint, but he came rather near it. He sent for theproprietors, and they came and never uttered a protest. They onlylaughed in their jolly fashion, and said it was robbery, but no matter;it was a grand 'scoop' (the bill or my 'Hornet' report, I didn't knowwhich): 'Pay it. It's all right.' The best men that ever owned anewspaper.The 'Hornet' survivors reached the Sandwich Islands the 15th of June.They were mere skinny skeletons; their clothes hung limp about them andfitted them no better than a flag fits the flag-staff in a calm. Butthey were well nursed in the hospital; the people of Honolulu kept themsupplied with all the dainties they could need; they gathered strengthfast, and were presently nearly as good as new. Within a fortnight themost of them took ship for San Francisco; that is, if my dates have notgone astray in my memory. I went in the same ship, a sailing-vessel.Captain Mitchell of the 'Hornet' was along; also the only passengers the'Hornet' had carried. These were two young men from Stamford,Connecticut--brothers: Samuel and Henry Ferguson. The 'Hornet' was aclipper of the first class and a fast sailer; the young men's quarterswere roomy and comfortable, and were well stocked with books, and alsowith canned meats and fruits to help out the ship-fare with; and when theship cleared from New York harbour in the first week of January there waspromise that she would make quick and pleasant work of the fourteen orfifteen thousand miles in front of her. As soon as the cold latitudeswere left behind and the vessel entered summer weather, the voyage becamea holiday picnic. The ship flew southward under a cloud of sail whichneeded no attention, no modifying or change of any kind, for daystogether. The young men read, strolled the ample deck, rested anddrowsed in the shade of the canvas, took their meals with the captain;and when the day was done they played dummy whist with him till bed-time.After the snow and ice and tempests of the Horn, the ship bowlednorthward into summer weather again, and the trip was a picnic once more.Until the early morning of the 3rd of May. Computed position of the ship112 degrees 10 minutes longitude, latitude 2 degrees above the equator;no wind, no sea--dead calm; temperature of the atmosphere, tropical,blistering, unimaginable by one who has not been roasted in it. Therewas a cry of fire. An unfaithful sailor had disobeyed the rules and goneinto the booby-hatch with an open light to draw some varnish from a cask.The proper result followed, and the vessel's hours were numbered.There was not much time to spare, but the captain made the most of it.The three boats were launched--long-boat and two quarter-boats. That thetime was very short and the hurry and excitement considerable isindicated by the fact that in launching the boats a hole was stove in theside of one of them by some sort of collision, and an oar driven throughthe side of another. The captain's first care was to have four sicksailors brought up and placed on deck out of harm's way--among them a'Portyghee.' This man had not done a day's work on the voyage, but hadlain in his hammock four months nursing an abscess. When we were takingnotes in the Honolulu hospital and a sailor told this to Mr. Burlingame,the third mate, who was lying near, raised his head with an effort, andin a weak voice made this correction--with solemnity and feeling:'Raising abscesses! He had a family of them. He done it to keep fromstanding his watch.'Any provisions that lay handy were gathered up by the men and twopassengers and brought and dumped on the deck where the 'Portyghee' lay;then they ran for more. The sailor who was telling this to Mr.Burlingame added:'We pulled together thirty-two days' rations for the thirty-one men thatway.'The third mate lifted his head again and made another correction--withbitterness:'The "Portyghee" et twenty-two of them while he was soldiering there andnobody noticing. A damned hound.'The fire spread with great rapidity. The smoke and flame drove the menback, and they had to stop their incomplete work of fetching provisions,and take to the boats with only ten days' rations secured.Each boat had a compass, a quadrant, a copy of Bowditch's 'Navigator,'and a Nautical Almanac, and the captain's and chief mate's boats hadchronometers. There were thirty-one men all told. The captain took anaccount of stock, with the following result: four hams, nearly thirtypounds of salt pork, half-box of raisins, one hundred pounds of bread,twelve two-pound cans of oysters, clams, and assorted meats, a kegcontaining four pounds of butter, twelve gallons of water in aforty-gallon 'scuttle-butt', four one-gallon demijohns full of water,three bottles of brandy (the property of passengers), some pipes,matches, and a hundred pounds of tobacco. No medicines. Of coursethe whole party had to go on short rations at once.The captain and the two passengers kept diaries. On our voyage to SanFrancisco we ran into a calm in the middle of the Pacific, and did notmove a rod during fourteen days; this gave me a chance to copy thediaries. Samuel Ferguson's is the fullest; I will draw upon it now.When the following paragraph was written the doomed ship was about onehundred and twenty days out from port, and all hands were putting in thelazy time about as usual, as no one was forecasting disaster. [Diary entry] May 2. Latitude 1 degree 28 minutes N., longitude 111degrees 38 minutes W. Another hot and sluggish day; at one time,however, the clouds promised wind, and there came a slight breeze--just enough to keep us going. The only thing to chronicle to-dayis the quantities of fish about; nine bonitos were caught thisforenoon, and some large albacores seen. After dinner the firstmate hooked a fellow which he could not hold, so he let the line goto the captain, who was on the bow. He, holding on, brought thefish to with a jerk, and snap went the line, hook and all. We alsosaw astern, swimming lazily after us, an enormous shark, which musthave been nine or ten feet long. We tried him with all sorts oflines and a piece of pork, but he declined to take hold. I supposehe had appeased his appetite on the heads and other remains of thebonitos we had thrown overboard.Next day's entry records the disaster. The three boats got away, retiredto a short distance, and stopped. The two injured ones were leakingbadly; some of the men were kept busy baling, others patched the holes aswell as they could. The captain, the two passengers, and eleven men werein the long-boat, with a share of the provisions and water, and with noroom to spare, for the boat was only twenty-one feet long, six wide, andthree deep. The chief mate and eight men were in one of the small boats,the second mate and seven men in the other. The passengers had saved noclothing but what they had on, excepting their overcoats. The ship,clothed in flame and sending up a vast column of black smoke into thesky, made a grand picture in the solitudes of the sea, and hour afterhour the outcasts sat and watched it. Meantime the captain ciphered onthe immensity of the distance that stretched between him and the nearestavailable land, and then scaled the rations down to meet the emergency;half a biscuit for dinner; one biscuit and some canned meat for dinner;half a biscuit for tea; a few swallows of water for each meal. And sohunger began to gnaw while the ship was still burning. [Diary entry] May 4. The ship burned all night very brightly, andhopes are that some ship has seen the light and is bearing down uponus. None seen, however, this forenoon, so we have determined to gotogether north and a little west to some islands in 18 degrees or 19degrees north latitude and 114 degrees to 115 degrees westlongitude, hoping in the meantime to be picked up by some ship. Theship sank suddenly at about 5 A.M. We find the sun very hot andscorching, but all try to keep out of it as much as we can.They did a quite natural thing now: waited several hours for thatpossible ship that might have seen the light to work her slow way to themthrough the nearly dead calm. Then they gave it up and set about theirplans. If you will look at the map you will say that their course couldbe easily decided. Albemarle Island (Galapagos group) lies straighteastward nearly a thousand miles; the islands referred to in the diary as'some islands' (Revillagigedo Islands) lie, as they think, in some widelyuncertain region northward about one thousand miles and westward onehundred or one hundred and fifty miles. Acapulco, on the Mexican coast,lies about north-east something short of one thousand miles. You willsay random rocks in the ocean are not what is wanted; let them strike forAcapulco and the solid continent. That does look like the rationalcourse, but one presently guesses from the diaries that the thing wouldhave been wholly irrational--indeed, suicidal. If the boats struck forAlbemarle they would be in the doldrums all the way; and that means awatery perdition, with winds which are wholly crazy, and blow from allpoints of the compass at once and also perpendicularly. If the boatstried for Acapulco they would get out of the doldrums when half-waythere--in case they ever got half-way--and then they would be inlamentable case, for there they would meet the north-east trades comingdown in their teeth, and these boats were so rigged that they could notsail within eight points of the wind. So they wisely started northward,with a slight slant to the west. They had but ten days' short allowanceof food; the long-boat was towing the others; they could not depend onmaking any sort of definite progress in the doldrums, and they had fouror five hundred miles of doldrums in front of them yet. They are thereal equator, a tossing, roaring, rainy belt, ten or twelve hundred milesbroad, which girdles the globe.It rained hard the first night and all got drenched, but they filled uptheir water-butt. The brothers were in the stern with the captain, whosteered. The quarters were cramped; no one got much sleep. 'Kept on ourcourse till squalls headed us off.'Stormy and squally the next morning, with drenching rains. A heavy anddangerous 'cobbling' sea. One marvels how such boats could live in it.Is it called a feat of desperate daring when one man and a dog cross theAtlantic in a boat the size of a long-boat, and indeed it is; but thislong-boat was overloaded with men and other plunder, and was only threefeet deep. 'We naturally thought often of all at home, and were glad toremember that it was Sacrament Sunday, and that prayers would go up fromour friends for us, although they know not our peril.'The captain got not even a cat-nap during the first three days andnights, but he got a few winks of sleep the fourth night. 'The worst seayet.' About ten at night the captain changed his course and headedeast-north-east, hoping to make Clipperton Rock. If he failed, nomatter; he would be in a better position to make those other islands. Iwill mention here that he did not find that rock.On May 8 no wind all day; sun blistering hot; they take to the oars.Plenty of dolphins, but they couldn't catch any. 'I think we are allbeginning to realise more and more the awful situation we are in.' 'Itoften takes a ship a week to get through the doldrums; how much longer,then, such a craft as ours?' 'We are so crowded that we cannot stretchourselves out for a good sleep, but have to take it any way we can getit.'Of course this feature will grow more and more trying, but it will behuman nature to cease to set it down; there will be five weeks of it yet--we must try to remember that for the diarist; it will make our beds thesofter.May 9 the sun gives him a warning: 'Looking with both eyes, the horizoncrossed thus +.' 'Henry keeps well, but broods over our troubles morethan I wish he did.' They caught two dolphins; they tasted well. 'Thecaptain believed the compass out of the way, but the long-invisible northstar came out--a welcome sight--and endorsed the compass.'May 10, 'latitude 7 degrees 0 minutes 3 seconds N., longitude 111 degrees32 minutes W.' So they have made about three hundred miles of northingin the six days since they left the region of the lost ship. 'Driftingin calms all day.' And baking hot, of course; I have been down there,and I remember that detail. 'Even as the captain says, all romance haslong since vanished, and I think the most of us are beginning to look thefact of our awful situation full in the face.' 'We are making but littleheadway on our course.' Bad news from the rearmost boat: the men areimprovident; 'they have eaten up all of the canned meats brought from theship, and are now growing discontented.' Not so with the chief mate'speople--they are evidently under the eye of a man.Under date of May 11: 'Standing still! or worse; we lost more last nightthan we made yesterday.' In fact, they have lost three miles of thethree hundred of northing they had so laboriously made. 'The cock thatwas rescued and pitched into the boat while the ship was on fire stilllives, and crows with the breaking of dawn, cheering us a good deal.'What has he been living on for a week? Did the starving men feed himfrom their dire poverty? 'The second mate's boat out of water again,showing that they over-drink their allowance. The captain spoke prettysharply to them.' It is true: I have the remark in my old note-book; Igot it of the third mate in the hospital at Honolulu. But there is notroom for it here, and it is too combustible, anyway. Besides, the thirdmate admired it, and what he admired he was likely to enhance.They were still watching hopefully for ships. The captain was athoughtful man, and probably did not disclose on them that that wassubstantially a waste of time. 'In this latitude the horizon is filledwith little upright clouds that look very much like ships.' Mr. Fergusonsaved three bottles of brandy from his private stores when he left theship, and the liquor came good in these days. 'The captain serves outtwo tablespoonfuls of brandy and water--half and half--to our crew.' Hemeans the watch that is on duty; they stood regular watches--four hourson and four off. The chief mate was an excellent officer--aself-possessed, resolute, fine, all-round man. The diarist makes thefollowing note--there is character in it: 'I offered one bottle of brandyto the chief mate, but he declined, saying he could keep the after-boatquiet, and we had not enough for all.'HENRY FERGUSON'S DIARY TO DATE, GIVEN IN FULL: May 4, 5, 6, doldrums. May 7, 8, 9, doldrums. May 10, 11, 12,doldrums. Tells it all. Never saw, never felt, never heard, neverexperienced such heat, such darkness, such lightning and thunder,and wind and rain, in my life before.That boy's diary is of the economical sort that a person might properlybe expected to keep in such circumstances--and be forgiven for theeconomy, too. His brother, perishing of consumption, hunger, thirst,blazing heat, drowning rains, loss of sleep, lack of exercise, waspersistently faithful and circumstantial with his diary from the firstday to the last--an instance of noteworthy fidelity and resolution. Inspite of the tossing and plunging boat he wrote it close and fine, in ahand as easy to read as print. They can't seem to get north of 7 degreesN.; they are still there the next day: [Diary entry] May 12. A good rain last night, and we caught a gooddeal, though not enough to fill up our tank, pails, &c. Our objectis to get out of these doldrums, but it seems as if we cannot do it.To-day we have had it very variable, and hope we are on the northernedge, thought we are not much above 7 degrees. This morning we allthought we had made out a sail; but it was one of those deceivingclouds. Rained a good deal to-day, making all hands wet anduncomfortable; we filled up pretty nearly all our water-pots,however. I hope we may have a fine night, for the captain certainlywants rest, and while there is any danger of squalls, or danger ofany kind, he is always on hand. I never would have believed thatopen boats such as ours, with their loads, could live in some of theseas we have had.During the night, 12th-13th, 'the cry of a ship! brought us to our feet.'It seemed to be the glimmer of a vessel's signal-lantern rising out ofthe curve of the sea. There was a season of breathless hope while theystood watching, with their hands shading their eyes, and their hearts intheir throats; then the promise failed: the light was a rising star. Itis a long time ago--thirty-two years--and it doesn't matter now, yet oneis sorry for their disappointment. 'Thought often of those at hometo-day, and of the disappointment they will feel next Sunday at nothearing from us by telegraph from San Francisco.' It will be many weeksyet before the telegram is received, and it will come as a thunderclap ofjoy then, and with the seeming of a miracle, for it will raise from thegrave men mourned as dead. 'To-day our rations were reduced to a quarterof a biscuit a meal, with about half a pint of water.' This is on May13, with more than a month of voyaging in front of them yet! However, asthey do not know that, 'we are all feeling pretty cheerful.'In the afternoon of the 14th there was a thunderstorm, 'which towardnight seemed to close in around us on every side, making it very dark andsqually.' 'Our situation is becoming more and more desperate,' for theywere making very little northing 'and every day diminishes our smallstock of provisions.' They realise that the boats must soon separate,and each fight for its own life. Towing the quarter-boats is a hinderingbusiness.That night and next day, light and baffling winds and but littleprogress. Hard to bear, that persistent standing still, and the foodwasting away. 'Everything in a perfect sop; and all so cramped, and nochange of clothes.' Soon the sun comes out and roasts them. 'Joe caughtanother dolphin to-day; in his maw we found a flying-fish and twoskipjacks.' There is an event, now, which rouses an enthusiasm of hope:a land-bird arrives! It rests on the yard for awhile, and they can lookat it all they like, and envy it, and thank it for its message. As asubject of talk it is beyond price--a fresh new topic for tongues tiredto death of talking upon a single theme: Shall we ever see the landagain; and when? Is the bird from Clipperton Rock? They hope so; andthey take heart of grace to believe so. As it turned out the bird had nomessage; it merely came to mock.May 16, 'the cock still lives, and daily carols forth his praise.' Itwill be a rainy night, 'but I do not care if we can fill up ourwater-butts.'On the 17th one of those majestic spectres of the deep, a water-spout,stalked by them, and they trembled for their lives. Young Henry set itdown in his scanty journal with the judicious comment that 'it might havebeen a fine sight from a ship.'From Captain Mitchell's log for this day: 'Only half a bushel ofbread-crumbs left.' (And a month to wander the seas yet.')It rained all night and all day; everybody uncomfortable. Now came asword-fish chasing a bonito; and the poor thing, seeking help andfriends, took refuge under the rudder. The big sword-fish kept hoveringaround, scaring everybody badly. The men's mouths watered for him, forhe would have made a whole banquet; but no one dared to touch him, ofcourse, for he would sink a boat promptly if molested. Providenceprotected the poor bonito from the cruel sword-fish. This was just andright. Providence next befriended the shipwrecked sailors: they got thebonito. This was also just and right. But in the distribution ofmercies the sword-fish himself got overlooked. He now went away; to museover these subtleties, probably. The men in all the boats seem prettywell; the feeblest of the sick ones (not able for a long time to standhis watch on board the ship) 'is wonderfully recovered.' This is thethird mate's detected 'Portyghee' that raised the family of abscesses. Passed a most awful night. Rained hard nearly all the time, andblew in squalls, accompanied by terrific thunder and lightning fromall points of the compass.--Henry's Log.Most awful night I ever witnessed.--Captain's Log.Latitude, May 18, 11 degrees 11 minutes. So they have averaged but fortymiles of northing a day during the fortnight. Further talk ofseparating. 'Too bad, but it must be done for the safety of the whole.''At first I never dreamed, but now hardly shut my eyes for a cat-napwithout conjuring up something or other--to be accounted for by weakness,I suppose.' But for their disaster they think they would be arriving inSan Francisco about this time. 'I should have liked to send B---thetelegram for her birthday.' This was a young sister.On the 19th the captain called up the quarter-boats and said one wouldhave to go off on its own hook. The long-boat could no longer tow bothof them. The second mate refused to go, but the chief mate was ready; infact, he was always ready when there was a man's work to the fore. Hetook the second mate's boat; six of its crew elected to remain, and twoof his own crew came with him (nine in the boat, now, including himself).He sailed away, and toward sunset passed out of sight. The diarist wassorry to see him go. It was natural; one could have better spared the'Portyghee.' After thirty-two years I find my prejudice against this'Portyghee' reviving. His very looks have long passed out of my memory;but no matter, I am coming to hate him as religiously as ever. 'Waterwill now be a scarce article, for as we get out of the doldrums we shallget showers only now and then in the trades. This life is tellingseverely on my strength. Henry holds out first-rate.' Henry did notstart well, but under hardships he improved straight along.Latitude, Sunday, May 20, 12 degrees 0 minutes 9 seconds. They ought tobe well out of the doldrums now, but they are not. No breeze--thelonged-for trades still missing. They are still anxiously watching for asail, but they have only 'visions of ships that come to naught--theshadow without the substance.' The second mate catches a booby thisafternoon, a bird which consists mainly of feathers; 'but as they have noother meat, it will go well.'May 21, they strike the trades at last! The second mate catches threemore boobies, and gives the long-boat one. Dinner 'half a can ofmincemeat divided up and served around, which strengthened us somewhat.'They have to keep a man bailing all the time; the hole knocked in theboat when she was launched from the burning ship was never efficientlymended. 'Heading about north-west now.' They hope they have eastingenough to make some of these indefinite isles. Failing that, they thinkthey will be in a better position to be picked up. It was an infinitelyslender chance, but the captain probably refrained from mentioning that.The next day is to be an eventful one. [Diary entry] May 22. Last night wind headed us off, so that partof the time we had to steer east-south-east and thenwest-north-west, and so on. This morning we were all startled by acry of 'SAIL HO!' Sure enough, we could see it! And for a time wecut adrift from the second mate's boat, and steered so as toattract its attention. This was about half-past five A.M. Aftersailing in a state of high excitement for almost twenty minutes wemade it out to be the chief mate's boat. Of course we were glad tosee them and have them report all well; but still it was a bitterdisappointment to us all. Now that we are in the trades it seemsimpossible to make northing enough to strike the isles. We havedetermined to do the best we can, and get in the route of vessels.Such being the determination, it became necessary to cast off theother boat, which, after a good deal of unpleasantness, was done,we again dividing water and stores, and taking Cox into our boat.This makes our number fifteen. The second mate's crew wanted toall get in with us, and cast the other boat adrift. It was a verypainful separation.So these isles that they have struggled for so long and so hopefully haveto be given up. What with lying birds that come to mock, and isles thatare but a dream, and 'visions of ships that come to naught,' it is apathetic time they are having, with much heartbreak in it. It was oddthat the vanished boat, three days lost to sight in that vast solitude,should appear again. But it brought Cox--we can't be certain why. Butif it hadn't, the diarist would never have seen the land again. [Diary entry] Our chances as we go west increase in regard to beingpicked up, but each day our scanty fare is so much reduced. Withoutthe fish, turtle, and birds sent us, I do not know how we shouldhave got along. The other day I offered to read prayers morning andevening for the captain, and last night commenced. The men,although of various nationalities and religions, are very attentive,and always uncovered. May God grant my weak endeavour its issue!Latitude, May 24, 14 degrees 18 minutes N. Five oysters apiece fordinner and three spoonfuls of juice, a gill of water, and a piece ofbiscuit the size of a silver dollar. 'We are plainly gettingweaker--God have mercy upon us all!' That night heavy seas breakover the weather side and make everybody wet and uncomfortablebesides requiring constant baling.Next day 'nothing particular happened.' Perhaps some of us would haveregarded it differently. 'Passed a spar, but not near enough to see whatit was.' They saw some whales blow; there were flying-fish skimming theseas, but none came aboard. Misty weather, with fine rain, verypenetrating.Latitude, May 26, 15 degrees 50 minutes. They caught a flying-fish and abooby, but had to eat them raw. 'The men grow weaker, and, I think,despondent; they say very little, though.' And so, to all the otherimaginable and unimaginable horrors, silence is added--the muteness andbrooding of coming despair. 'It seems our best chance to get in thetrack of ships with the hope that some one will run near enough to ourspeck to see it.' He hopes the other boards stood west and have beenpicked up. (They will never be heard of again in this world.) [Diary entry] Sunday, May 27, Latitude 16 degrees 0 minutes 5seconds; longitude, by chronometer, 117 degrees 22 minutes. Ourfourth Sunday! When we left the ship we reckoned on having aboutten days' supplies, and now we hope to be able, by rigid economy, tomake them last another week if possible.[1] Last night the sea wascomparatively quiet, but the wind headed us off to aboutwest-north-west, which has been about our course all day to-day.Another flying-fish came aboard last night, and one more to-day--both small ones. No birds. A booby is a great catch, and a goodlarge one makes a small dinner for the fifteen of us--that is, ofcourse, as dinners go in the 'Hornet's' long-boat. Tried thismorning to read the full service to myself, with the Communion, butfound it too much; am too weak, and get sleepy, and cannot givestrict attention; so I put off half till this afternoon. I trustGod will hear the prayers gone up for us at home to-day, andgraciously answer them by sending us succour and help in this ourseason of deep distress.The next day was 'a good day for seeing a ship.' But none was seen. Thediarist 'still feels pretty well,' though very weak; his brother Henry'bears up and keeps his strength the best of any on board.' 'I do notfeel despondent at all, for I fully trust that the Almighty will hear ourand the home prayers, and He who suffers not a sparrow to fall sees andcares for us, His creatures.'Considering the situation and circumstances, the record for next day,May 29, is one which has a surprise in it for those dull people who thinkthat nothing but medicines and doctors can cure the sick. A littlestarvation can really do more for the average sick man than can the bestmedicines and the best doctors. I do not mean a restricted diet; I meantotal abstention from food for one or two days. I speak from experience;starvation has been my cold and fever doctor for fifteen years, and hasaccomplished a cure in all instances. The third mate told me in Honoluluthat the 'Portyghee' had lain in his hammock for months, raising hisfamily of abscesses and feeding like a cannibal. We have seen that inspite of dreadful weather, deprivation of sleep, scorching, drenching,and all manner of miseries, thirteen days of starvation 'wonderfullyrecovered' him. There were four sailors down sick when the ship wasburned. Twenty-five days of pitiless starvation have followed, and nowwe have this curious record: 'All the men are hearty and strong; even theones that were down sick are well, except poor Peter.' When I wrote anarticle some months ago urging temporary abstention from food as a remedyfor an inactive appetite and for disease, I was accused of jesting, but Iwas in earnest. 'We are all wonderfully well and strong, comparativelyspeaking.' On this day the starvation regime drew its belt a couple ofbuckle-holes tighter: the bread ration was reduced from the usual pieceof cracker the size of a silver dollar to the half of that, and one mealwas abolished from the daily three. This will weaken the men physically,but if there are any diseases of an ordinary sort left in them they willdisappear. Two quarts bread-crumbs left, one-third of a ham, three small cansof oysters, and twenty gallons of water.--Captain's Log.The hopeful tone of the diaries is persistent. It is remarkable. Lookat the map and see where the boat is: latitude 16 degrees 44 minutes,longitude 119 degrees 20 minutes. It is more than two hundred miles westof the Revillagigedo Islands, so they are quite out of the questionagainst the trades, rigged as this boat is. The nearest land availablefor such a boat is the American group, six hundred and fifty miles away,westward; still, there is no note of surrender, none even ofdiscouragement! Yet, May 30, 'we have now left: one can of oysters;three pounds of raisins; one can of soup; one-third of a ham; three pintsof biscuit-crumbs.'And fifteen starved men to live on it while they creep and crawl sixhundred and fifty miles. 'Somehow I feel much encouraged by this changeof course (west by north) which we have made to-day.' Six hundred andfifty miles on a hatful of provisions. Let us be thankful, even afterthirty-two years, that they are mercifully ignorant of the fact that itisn't six hundred and fifty that they must creep on the hatful, buttwenty-two hundred!Isn't the situation romantic enough just as it stands? No. Providenceadded a startling detail: pulling an oar in that boat, for commonseaman's wages, was a banished duke--Danish. We hear no more of him;just that mention, that is all, with the simple remark added that 'he isone of our best men'--a high enough compliment for a duke or any otherman in those manhood-testing circumstances. With that little glimpse ofhim at his oar, and that fine word of praise, he vanishes out of ourknowledge for all time. For all time, unless he should chance upon thisnote and reveal himself.The last day of May is come. And now there is a disaster to report:think of it, reflect upon it, and try to understand how much it means,when you sit down with your family and pass your eye over yourbreakfast-table. Yesterday there were three pints of bread-crumbs; thismorning the little bag is found open and some of the crumbs are missing.'We dislike to suspect any one of such a rascally act, but there is noquestion that this grave crime has been committed. Two days willcertainly finish the remaining morsels. God grant us strength to reachthe American group!' The third mate told me in Honolulu that in thesedays the men remembered with bitterness that the 'Portyghee' had devouredtwenty-two days' rations while he lay waiting to be transferred from theburning ship, and that now they cursed him and swore an oath that if itcame to cannibalism he should be the first to suffer for the rest. [Diary entry] The captain has lost his glasses, and therefore hecannot read our pocket prayer-books as much as I think he wouldlike, though he is not familiar with them.Further of the captain: 'He is a good man, and has been most kind to us--almost fatherly. He says that if he had been offered the command of theship sooner he should have brought his two daughters with him.' It makesone shudder yet to think how narrow an escape it was. The two meals (rations) a day are as follows: fourteen raisins and apiece of cracker the size of a penny for tea; a gill of water, and apiece of ham and a piece of bread, each the size of a penny, forbreakfast.--Captain's Log.He means a penny in thickness as well as in circumference. SamuelFerguson's diary says the ham was shaved 'about as thin as it could becut.' [Diary entry] June 1. Last night and to-day sea very high andcobbling, breaking over and making us all wet and cold. Weathersqually, and there is no doubt that only careful management--withGod's protecting care--preserved us through both the night and theday; and really it is most marvellous how every morsel that passesour lips is blessed to us. It makes me think daily of the miracleof the loaves and fishes. Henry keeps up wonderfully, which is agreat consolation to me. I somehow have great confidence, and hopethat our afflictions will soon be ended, though we are runningrapidly across the track of both outward and inward bound vessels,and away from them; our chief hope is a whaler, man-of-war, or someAustralian ship. The isles we are steering for are put down inBowditch, but on my map are said to be doubtful. God grant they maybe there!Hardest day yet.--Captain's Log.Doubtful! It was worse than that. A week later they sailed straightover them. [Diary entry] June 2. Latitude 18 degrees 9 minutes. Squally,cloudy, a heavy sea.... I cannot help thinking of the cheerful andcomfortable time we had aboard the 'Hornet.'Two days' scanty supplies left--ten rations of water apiece and alittle morsel of bread. But the sun shines and God is merciful.--Captain's Log.[Diary entry] Sunday, June 3. Latitude 17 degrees 54 minutes.Heavy sea all night, and from 4 A.M. very wet, the sea breakingover us in frequent sluices, and soaking everything aft,particularly. All day the sea has been very high, and it is awonder that we are not swamped. Heaven grant that it may go downthis evening! Our suspense and condition are getting terrible. Imanaged this morning to crawl, more than step, to the forward end ofthe boat, and was surprised to find that I was so weak, especiallyin the legs and knees. The sun has been out again, and I have driedsome things, and hope for a better night.June 4. Latitude 17 degrees 6 minutes, longitude 131 degrees 30minutes. Shipped hardly any seas last night, and to-day the sea hasgone down somewhat, although it is still too high for comfort, as wehave an occasional reminder that water is wet. The sun has been outall day, and so we have had a good drying. I have been trying forthe last ten or twelve days to get a pair of drawers dry enough toput on, and to-day at last succeeded. I mention this to show thestate in which we have lived. If our chronometer is anywhere nearright, we ought to see the American Isles to-morrow or next day. Ifthere are not there, we have only the chance, for a few days, of astray ship, for we cannot eke out the provisions more than five orsix days longer, and our strength is failing very fast. I was muchsurprised to-day to note how my legs have wasted away above myknees: they are hardly thicker than my upper arm used to be. Still,I trust in God's infinite mercy, and feel sure he will do what isbest for us. To survive, as we have done, thirty-two days in anopen boat, with only about ten days' fair provisions for thirty-onemen in the first place, and these divided twice subsequently, ismore than mere unassisted human art and strength could haveaccomplished and endured.Bread and raisins all gone.--Captain's Log.Men growing dreadfully discontented, and awful grumbling andunpleasant talk is arising. God save us from all strife of men; andif we must die now, take us himself, and not embitter our bitterdeath still more.--Henry's Log.[Diary entry] June 5. Quiet night and pretty comfortable day,though our sail and block show signs of failing, and need takingdown--which latter is something of a job, as it requires theclimbing of the mast. We also had news from forward, there beingdiscontent and some threatening complaints of unfair allowances,etc., all as unreasonable as foolish; still, these things bid us beon our guard. I am getting miserably weak, but try to keep up thebest I can. If we cannot find those isles we can only try to makenorth-west and get in the track of Sandwich Island-bound vessels,living as best we can in the meantime. To-day we changed to onemeal, and that at about noon, with a small ration or water at 8 or 9A.M., another at 12 A.M., and a third at 5 or 6 P.M.Nothing left but a little piece of ham and a gill of water, allaround.--Captain's Log.They are down to one meal a day now--such as it is--and fifteen hundredmiles to crawl yet! And now the horrors deepen, and, though they escapedactual mutiny, the attitude of the men became alarming. Now we seem tosee why that curious incident happened, so long ago; I mean Cox's return,after he had been far away and out of sight several days in the chiefmate's boat. If he had not come back the captain and the two youngpassengers might have been slain, now, by these sailors, who werebecoming crazed through their sufferings. NOTE SECRETLY PASSED BY HENRY TO HIS BROTHER:Cox told me last night that there is getting to be a good deal ofugly talk among the men against the captain and us aft. They saythat the captain is the cause of all; that he did not try to savethe ship at all, nor to get provisions, and that even would not letthe men put in some they had; and that partiality is shown us inapportioning our rations aft.... asked Cox the other day if hewould starve first or eat human flesh. Cox answered he wouldstarve.... then told him he would only be killing himself. If wedo not find those islands we would do well to prepare for anything..... is the loudest of all.REPLY:We can depend on ..., I think, and ..., and Cox, can we not?SECOND NOTE:I guess so, and very likely on ...; but there is no telling .... andCox are certain. There is nothing definite said or hinted as yet,as I understand Cox; but starving men are the same as maniacs. Itwould be well to keep a watch on your pistol, so as to have it andthe cartridges safe from theft.Henry's Log, June 5. Dreadful forebodings. God spare us from allsuch horrors! Some of the men getting to talk a good deal. Nothingto write down. Heart very sad.Henry's Log, June 6. Passed some sea-weed and something that lookedlike the trunk of an old tree, but no birds; beginning to be afraidislands not there. To-day it was said to the captain, in thehearing of all, that some of the men would not shrink, when a manwas dead, from using the flesh, though they would not kill.Horrible! God give us all full use of our reason, and spare us fromsuch things! 'From plague, pestilence, and famine; from battle andmurder, and from sudden death, good Lord, deliver us!'[Diary entry] June 6. Latitude 16 degrees 30 minutes, longitude(chron.) 134 degrees. Dry night and wind steady enough to requireno change in sail; but this A.M. an attempt to lower it provedabortive. First the third mate tried and got up to the block, andfastened a temporary arrangement to reeve the halyards through, buthad to come down, weak and almost fainting, before finishing; thenJoe tried, and after twice ascending, fixed it and brought down theblock; but it was very exhausting work, and afterward he was goodfor nothing all day. The clue-iron which we are trying to makeserve for the broken block works, however, very indifferently, andwill, I am afraid, soon cut the rope. It is very necessary to geteverything connected with the sail in good easy running order beforewe get too weak to do anything with it.Only three meals left.--Captain's Log.[Diary entry] June 7. Latitude 16 degrees 35 minutes N., longitude136 degrees 30 minutes W. Night wet and uncomfortable. To-dayshows us pretty conclusively that the American Isles are not there,though we have had some signs that looked like them. At noon wedecided to abandon looking any farther for them, and to-night haul alittle more northerly, so as to get in the way of Sandwich Islandvessels, which fortunately come down pretty well this way--say tolatitude 19 degrees to 20 degrees to get the benefit of thetrade-winds. Of course all the westing we have made is gain, and Ihope the chronometer is wrong in our favour, for I do not see howany such delicate instrument can keep good time with the constantjarring and thumping we get from the sea. With the strong trade wehave, I hope that a week from Sunday will put us in sight of theSandwich Islands, if we are not safe by that time by being pickedup.It is twelve hundred miles to the Sandwich Islands; the provisions arevirtually exhausted, but not the perishing diarist's pluck. [Diary entry] My cough troubled me a good deal last night, andtherefore I got hardly any sleep at all. Still, I make out prettywell, and should not complain. Yesterday the third mate mended theblock, and this P.M. the sail, after some difficulty, was got down,and Harry got to the top of the mast and rove the halyards throughafter some hardship, so that it now works easy and well. Thisgetting up the mast is no easy matter at any time with the sea wehave, and is very exhausting in our present state. We could onlyreward Harry by an extra ration of water. We have made good timeand course to-day. Heading her up, however, makes the boat shipseas and keeps us all wet; however, it cannot be helped. Writing isa rather precarious thing these times. Our meal to-day for thefifteen consists of half a can of 'soup and boullie'; the other halfis reserved for to-morrow. Henry still keeps up grandly, and is agreat favourite. God grant he may be spared.A better feeling prevails among the men.--Captain's Log.[Diary entry] June 9. Latitude 17 degrees 53 minutes. Finishedto-day, I may say, our whole stack of provisions.[2] We have onlyleft a lower end of a ham-bone, with some of the outer rind andskin on. In regard to the water, however, I think we have got tendays' supply at our present rate of allowance. This, with whatnourishment we can get from boot-legs and such chewable matter, wehope will enable us to weather it out till we get to the SandwichIslands, or, sailing in the meantime in the track of vesselsthither bound, be picked up. My hope is in the latter, for in allhuman probability I cannot stand the other. Still, we have beenmarvellously protected, and God, I hope, will preserve us all inHis own good time and way. The men are getting weaker, but arestill quiet and orderly.[Diary entry] Sunday, June 10. Latitude 18 degrees 40 minutes,longitude 142 degrees 34 minutes. A pretty good night last night,with some wettings, and again another beautiful Sunday. I cannotbut think how we should all enjoy it at home, and what a contrast ishere! How terrible their suspense must begin to be! God grant thatit may be relieved before very long, and He certainly seems to bewith us in everything we do, and has preserved this boatmiraculously; for since we left the ship we have sailed considerablyover three thousand miles, which, taking into consideration ourmeagre stock of provisions, is almost unprecedented. As yet I donot feel the stint of food so much as I do that of water. EvenHenry, who is naturally a good water-drinker, can save half of hisallowance from time to time, when I cannot. My diseased throat mayhave something to do with that, however.Nothing is now left which by any flattery can be called food. But theymust manage somehow for five days more, for at noon they have still eighthundred miles to go. It is a race for life now.This is no time for comments or other interruptions from me--every momentis valuable. I will take up the boy brother's diary at this point, andclear the seas before it and let it fly. HENRY FERGUSON'S LOG:Sunday, June 10. Our ham-bone has given us a taste of food to-day,and we have got left a little meat and the remainder of the bone fortomorrow. Certainly, never was there such a sweet knuckle-one, orone that was so thoroughly appreciated .... I do not know that Ifeel any worse than I did last Sunday, notwithstanding the reductionof diet; and I trust that we may all have strength given us tosustain the sufferings and hardships of the coming week. Weestimate that we are within seven hundred miles of the SandwichIslands, and that our average, daily, is somewhat over a hundredmiles, so that our hopes have some foundation in reason. Heavensend we may all live to see land!June 11. Ate the meat and rind of our ham-bone, and have the boneand the greasy cloth from around the ham left to eat to-morrow. Godsend us birds or fish, and let us not perish of hunger, or bebrought to the dreadful alternative of feeding on human flesh! As Ifeel now, I do not think anything could persuade me; but you cannottell what you will do when you are reduced by hunger and your mindwandering. I hope and pray we can make out to reach the islandsbefore we get to this strait; but we have one or two desperate menaboard, though they are quiet enough now. It is my firm trust andbelief that we are going to be saved.All food gone.--Captain's Log.[3][Ferguson's log continues] June 12. Stiff breeze, and we are fairly flying--dead ahead of it--and toward the islands. Good hope, but the prospects of hunger areawful. Ate ham-bone to-day. It is the captain's birthday; he isfifty-four years old.June 13. The ham-rags are not quite all gone yet, and theboot-legs, we find, are very palatable after we get the salt out ofthem. A little smoke, I think, does some little good; but I don'tknow.June 14. Hunger does not pain us much, but we are dreadfully weak.Our water is getting frightfully low. God grant we may see landsoon! Nothing to eat, but feel better than I did yesterday. Towardevening saw a magnificent rainbow--the first we had seen. Captainsaid, 'Cheer up, boys; it's a prophecy--it's the bow of promise!'June 15. God be for ever praised for His infinite mercy! Land insight! rapidly neared it and soon were sure of it .... Two nobleKanakas swam out and took the boat ashore. We were joyfullyreceived by two white men--Mr. Jones and his steward Charley--and acrowd of native men, women, and children. They treated ussplendidly--aided us, and carried us up the bank, and brought uswater, poi, bananas, and green coconuts; but the white men took careof us and prevented those who would have eaten too much from doingso. Everybody overjoyed to see us, and all sympathy expressed infaces, deeds, and words. We were then helped up to the house; andhelp we needed. Mr. Jones and Charley are the only white men here.Treated us splendidly. Gave us first about a teaspoonful of spiritsin water, and then to each a cup of warm tea, with a little bread.Takes every care of us. Gave us later another cup of tea, and breadthe same, and then let us go to rest. It is the happiest day of mylife.... God in His mercy has heard our prayer.... Everybody is sokind. Words cannot tell.June 16. Mr. Jones gave us a delightful bed, and we surely had agood night's rest; but not sleep--we were too happy to sleep; wouldkeep the reality and not let it turn to a delusion--dreaded that wemight wake up and find ourselves in the boat again.It is an amazing adventure. There is nothing of its sort in history thatsurpasses it in impossibilities made possible. In one extraordinarydetail--the survival of every person in the boat--it probably standsalone in the history of adventures of its kinds. Usually merely a partof a boat's company survive--officers, mainly, and other educated andtenderly-reared men, unused to hardship and heavy labour; the untrained,roughly-reared hard workers succumb. But in this case even the rudestand roughest stood the privations and miseries of the voyage almost aswell as did the college-bred young brothers and the captain. I mean,physically. The minds of most of the sailors broke down in the fourthweek and went to temporary ruin, but physically the endurance exhibitedwas astonishing. Those men did not survive by any merit of their own, ofcourse, but by merit of the character and intelligence of the captain;they lived by the mastery of his spirit. Without him they would havebeen children without a nurse; they would have exhausted their provisionsin a week, and their pluck would not have lasted even as long as theprovisions.The boat came near to being wrecked at the last. As it approached theshore the sail was let go, and came down with a run; then the captain sawthat he was drifting swiftly toward an ugly reef, and an effort was madeto hoist the sail again; but it could not be done; the men's strength waswholly exhausted; they could not even pull an oar. They were helpless,and death imminent. It was then that they were discovered by the twoKanakas who achieved the rescue. They swam out and manned the boat, andpiloted her through a narrow and hardly noticeable break in the reef--theonly break in it in a stretch of thirty-five miles! The spot where thelanding was made was the only one in that stretch where footing couldhave been found on the shore; everywhere else precipices came sheer downinto forty fathoms of water. Also, in all that stretch this was the onlyspot where anybody lived.Within ten days after the landing all the men but one were up andcreeping about. Properly, they ought to have killed themselves with the'food' of the last few days--some of them, at any rate--men who hadfreighted their stomachs with strips of leather from old boots and withchips from the butter cask; a freightage which they did not get rid of bydigestion, but by other means. The captain and the two passengers didnot eat strips and chips, as the sailors did, but scraped theboot-leather and the wood, and made a pulp of the scrapings by moisteningthem with water. The third mate told me that the boots were old and fullof holes; then added thoughtfully, 'but the holes digested the best.'Speaking of digestion, here is a remarkable thing, and worth nothing:during this strange voyage, and for a while afterward on shore, thebowels of some of the men virtually ceased from their functions; in somecases there was no action for twenty and thirty days, and in one case forforty-four! Sleeping also came to be rare. Yet the men did very wellwithout it. During many days the captain did not sleep at all--twenty-one, I think, on one stretch.When the landing was made, all the men were successfully protected fromover-eating except the 'Portyghee;' he escaped the watch and ate anincredible number of bananas: a hundred and fifty-two, the third matesaid, but this was undoubtedly an exaggeration; I think it was a hundredand fifty-one. He was already nearly half full of leather; it washanging out of his ears. (I do not state this on the third mate'sauthority, for we have seen what sort of a person he was; I state it onmy own.) The 'Portyghee' ought to have died, of course, and even now itseems a pity that he didn't; but he got well, and as early as any ofthem; and all full of leather, too, the way he was, and butter-timber andhandkerchiefs and bananas. Some of the men did eat handkerchiefs inthose last days, also socks; and he was one of them.It is to the credit of the men that they did not kill the rooster thatcrowed so gallantly mornings. He lived eighteen days, and then stood upand stretched his neck and made a brave, weak effort to do his duty oncemore, and died in the act. It is a picturesque detail; and so is thatrainbow, too--the only one seen in the forty-three days,--raising itstriumphal arch in the skies for the sturdy fighters to sail under tovictory and rescue.With ten days' provisions Captain Josiah Mitchell performed thismemorable voyage of forty-three days and eight hours in an open boat,sailing four thousand miles in reality and thirty-three hundred and sixtyby direct courses, and brought every man safe to land. A bright,simple-hearted, unassuming, plucky, and most companionable man. I walkedthe deck with him twenty-eight days--when I was not copying diaries,--andI remember him with reverent honour. If he is alive he is eighty-sixyears old now.If I remember rightly, Samuel Ferguson died soon after we reached SanFrancisco. I do not think he lived to see his home again; his diseasehad been seriously aggravated by his hardships.For a time it was hoped that the two quarter-boats would presently beheard of, but this hope suffered disappointment. They went down with allon board, no doubt, not even sparing that knightly chief mate.The authors of the diaries allowed me to copy them exactly as they werewritten, and the extracts that I have given are without any smoothingover or revision. These diaries are finely modest and unaffected, andwith unconscious and unintentional art they rise toward the climax withgraduated and gathering force and swing and dramatic intensity; theysweep you along with a cumulative rush, and when the cry rings out atlast, 'Land in sight!' your heart is in your mouth, and for a moment youthink it is you that have been saved. The last two paragraphs are notimprovable by anybody's art; they are literary gold; and their verypauses and uncompleted sentences have in them an eloquence not reachableby any words.The interest of this story is unquenchable; it is of the sort that timecannot decay. I have not looked at the diaries for thirty-two years, butI find that they have lost nothing in that time. Lost? They havegained; for by some subtle law all tragic human experiences gain inpathos by the perspective of time. We realize this when in Naples westand musing over the poor Pompeian mother, lost in the historic storm ofvolcanic ashes eighteen centuries ago, who lies with her child grippedclose to her breast, trying to save it, and whose despair and grief havebeen preserved for us by the fiery envelope which took her life buteternalized her form and features. She moves us, she haunts us, shestays in our thoughts for many days, we do not know why, for she isnothing to us, she has been nothing to anyone for eighteen centuries;whereas of the like case to-day we should say, 'Poor thing! it ispitiful,' and forget it in an hour.[1] There are nineteen days of voyaging ahead yet.--M.T.[2] Six days to sail yet, nevertheless.--M.T.[3] It was at this time discovered that the crazed sailors had gotten thedelusion that the captain had a million dollars in gold concealed aft,and they were conspiring to kill him and the two passengers and seize it.--M.T.

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