The God of Civilization: A RomancePittock, M. A., Mrs.
General
The God of Civilization: A Romance
Pittock, M. A., Mrs.
Dime novels; Love stories; Oceania -- Description and travel -- Fiction
Indeed, already while they had been speaking, the men had been busy
supplying the life boats with barrels of sea biscuit, and salt beef, and
casks of fresh water and other necessities; and the scene which had so
lately been one of placid enjoyment, had, in a moment been turned into
the wildest confusion. Sailors running here and there, officers shouting
out orders, and above it all, the smoke arising in dense clouds. The
life boats were soon ready for their precious human freight. Into one
boat Mrs. Gray, Allen Thornton, the three girls, the captain and four
sailors went, the rest of the crew taking another boat. The men set the
sails on the captain’s boat, and, as there was a brisk breeze blowing,
together with the fact that the men bent manfully to the oars, they were
soon a safe distance from the burning ship, and looking back could see
the flames bursting out all over her.
All at once there was a frightful noise, and as they looked, they saw
the vessel torn asunder, portions of her being thrown high in the air.
It was as if she had lifted herself out of her watery bed in one wild
leap of joy, at no longer being under the control of human hands, but
left to the mad caprice, of the wild elements—fire and water. As a
portion of the smoke cleared away the now shipwrecked watchers could see
that she has been completely shattered by the terrible explosion, and,
that what had been so lately a noble vessel, breasting the waves with
majestic calm, was now gone from the face of the waters; no more should
she sail away with her sails bellying in the breeze, her flag and pennon
floating gaily at her mastheads; no more should loving eyes gaze out
over the harbor bar with longing anxiety for her coming, bringing loved
ones home. No, she had gone, gone forever.
The day passed slowly enough to our friends. All through the afternoon
they kept in sight of the other boat load of fellow sufferers. As the
day advanced, the breeze, which had been blowing all day, was a strong
gale by the time night had fallen, with that suddenness, which seems, in
a moment, to envelop the sea and earth as with a dark shroud dropped by
mysterious hand from heaven.
There is in the tropics no gentle approach of night, no soft shades of
twilight, that time when all heaven and earth is hushed in dreamy,
restful quiet; that time between the busy, gay and garish day and the
dark, gruesome night. The darkness seemed to increase the uneasiness of
all on board the little craft as they were afraid the high winds might
drive them against some of the large pieces of wreckage which, before
nightfall they had seen not far from them; and if such an accident
happened to them there would be little chance of their escaping a most
horrible death. But their fears from that source were fortunately not
realized.
At last morning dawned, but bringing no abatement of the storm; in fact,
the southerly gale had increased to almost a hurricane in violence.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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