The Sea Wolf | Page 3

into a panic. I
remembered the life-preservers stored in the cabin, but was met at the
door and swept backward by a wild rush of men and women. What
happened in the next few minutes I do not recollect, though I have a
clear remembrance of pulling down life-preservers from the overhead
racks, while the red-faced man fastened them about the bodies of an
hysterical group of women. This memory is as distinct and sharp as that
of any picture I have seen. It is a picture, and I can see it now,--the
jagged edges of the hole in the side of the cabin, through which the
grey fog swirled and eddied; the empty upholstered seats, littered with
all the evidences of sudden flight, such as packages, hand satchels,
umbrellas, and wraps; the stout gentleman who had been reading my
essay, encased in cork and canvas, the magazine still in his hand, and
asking me with monotonous insistence if I thought there was any
danger; the red-faced man, stumping gallantly around on his artificial

legs and buckling life-preservers on all corners; and finally, the
screaming bedlam of women.
This it was, the screaming of the women, that most tried my nerves. It
must have tried, too, the nerves of the red-faced man, for I have another
picture which will never fade from my mind. The stout gentleman is
stuffing the magazine into his overcoat pocket and looking on curiously.
A tangled mass of women, with drawn, white faces and open mouths, is
shrieking like a chorus of lost souls; and the red-faced man, his face
now purplish with wrath, and with arms extended overhead as in the act
of hurling thunderbolts, is shouting, "Shut up! Oh, shut up!"
I remember the scene impelled me to sudden laughter, and in the next
instant I realized I was becoming hysterical myself; for these were
women of my own kind, like my mother and sisters, with the fear of
death upon them and unwilling to die. And I remember that the sounds
they made reminded me of the squealing of pigs under the knife of the
butcher, and I was struck with horror at the vividness of the analogy.
These women, capable of the most sublime emotions, of the tenderest
sympathies, were open-mouthed and screaming. They wanted to live,
they were helpless, like rats in a trap, and they screamed.
The horror of it drove me out on deck. I was feeling sick and squeamish,
and sat down on a bench. In a hazy way I saw and heard men rushing
and shouting as they strove to lower the boats. It was just as I had read
descriptions of such scenes in books. The tackles jammed. Nothing
worked. One boat lowered away with the plugs out, filled with women
and children and then with water, and capsized. Another boat had been
lowered by one end, and still hung in the tackle by the other end, where
it had been abandoned. Nothing was to be seen of the strange steamboat
which had caused the disaster, though I heard men saying that she
would undoubtedly send boats to our assistance.
I descended to the lower deck. The Martinez was sinking fast, for the
water was very near. Numbers of the passengers were leaping
overboard. Others, in the water, were clamouring to be taken aboard
again. No one heeded them. A cry arose that we were sinking. I was
seized by the consequent panic, and went over the side in a surge of

bodies. How I went over I do not know, though I did know, and
instantly, why those in the water were so desirous of getting back on
the steamer. The water was cold--so cold that it was painful. The pang,
as I plunged into it, was as quick and sharp as that of fire. It bit to the
marrow. It was like the grip of death. I gasped with the anguish and
shock of it, filling my lungs before the life-preserver popped me to the
surface. The taste of the salt was strong in my mouth, and I was
strangling with the acrid stuff in my throat and lungs.
But it was the cold that was most distressing. I felt that I could survive
but a few minutes. People were struggling and floundering in the water
about me. I could hear them crying out to one another. And I heard,
also, the sound of oars. Evidently the strange steamboat had lowered its
boats. As the time went by I marvelled that I was still alive. I had no
sensation whatever in my lower limbs, while a chilling numbness was
wrapping about my heart and creeping into it. Small waves, with
spiteful foaming crests, continually broke over me and into my mouth,
sending me off into