Jim, who had never known a _paepae-hae_, whose only home had been a ship's foc's'le, whose playground had been that rough one the wide world, recalled tales of open-boat experiences with a feeling half of dread for the future, half of excited anticipation, the glamour and fascination of uncertain fortune making itself felt even in his small but romantic breast. Broncho pondered upon the strange freaks of Dame Fortune, the streaks of good and bad luck, called by some "Providence," which go to make up men's lives. Jack stared with the bright glare of the flaming ship full in his eyes, yet saw it not. His mind was far away. His memory was crowded with strange events, perils overcome, dangers met and conquered on the battlefield, in the bush, on deep water, and on mountain top, and his courage rose high--that courage which, in conjunction with iron nerves, great strength to suffer, and absolute fearlessness of death, made the rolling-stone such a difficult man for the Fates to trample upon. Well he knew the terrors which were likely to be before them, the terrors of an open boat alone in mid-ocean--the torments of thirst and hunger, the growing weakness of mind and body, the aching, cramped limbs, the perils of storm and calm, the gradual feeling of despair, the long days of helplessness, then the feverish senses full of distorted views as mind and body grew more diseased, and, last of all, the wild, raving delirium. Well he knew them. He gave himself a shake and braced his mind to fight the coming battle. All night the _Ocmulgee_ roared, hissed, and crackled. All night the yellow tongues flared in fiery coils about her. At six bells, eleven o'clock, the mainmast went by the board; then the mizzen tottered, swayed, hung for a moment like a flaming Tower of Pisa, and then slowly, deliberately, plunged into the sea. A smother of foam burst forth, the sparkling white enveloping the flickering yellow and extinguishing it. In the black background of smoke the red sparks gleamed like myriads of fire-flies. And now, as the flames broke out over the hull, the salt-incrusted timbers turned the yellow tongues into weird blue and green flares, which in all the shades of the rainbow flickered and flourished. Still the gallant old ship floated, and it was not more than an hour before dawn when at last, being burnt down to the water's edge, the _Ocmulgee_ had to give up the fight. All this time the castaways lay off, waiting to see the last of the burning ship. Suddenly Jim sprang to his feet, shouting excitedly, "She's going! she's going!" Slowly the _Ocmulgee_ lifted her stern into the air; her weather-worn rudder rose dripping from the ocean; then her keel showed, foot by foot, draped with long streamers of seaweed, as if with a shroud. She gave a heavy lurch forward, a plunge, and was gone, leaving nothing but a swirling eddy of tossing white water. FOOTNOTES: [11] "Goodbye" (Samoan). CHAPTER IV "THE OPEN BOAT"