Thrilling Narratives of Mutiny, Murder and Piracy: A weird series of tales of shipwreck and disaster, from the earliest part of the century to the present time, with accounts of providential escapes and heart-rending fatalities.Anonymous
History
Thrilling Narratives of Mutiny, Murder and Piracy: A weird series of tales of shipwreck and disaster, from the earliest part of the century to the present time, with accounts of providential escapes and heart-rending fatalities.
Anonymous
Mutiny; Pirates; Seafaring life; Shipwrecks
Our boat began to leak considerably, but we prevented it as well as we
could, by stuffing the largest holes with oakum, which an old sailor
had had the precaution to take before quitting the frigate. At noon
the heat became so strong--so intolerable, that several of us believed
we had reached our last moments. The hot winds of the Desert even
reached us; and the fine sand with which they were loaded, had
completely obscured the clearness of the atmosphere. The sun presented
a reddish disk; the whole surface of the ocean became nebulous, and
the air which we breathed, depositing a fine sand, an impalpable
powder, penetrated to our lungs, already parched with a burning
thirst. In this state of torment we remained till four in the
afternoon, when a breeze from the northwest brought us some relief.
Notwithstanding the privations we felt, and especially the burning
thirst which had become intolerable, the cool air which we now began
to breathe, made us in part forget our sufferings. The heavens began
again to resume the usual serenity of those latitudes, and we hoped to
have passed a good night. A second distribution of provisions was
made; each received a small glass of water, and the eighth part of a
biscuit. Notwithstanding our meagre fare, every one seemed content, in
the persuasion we would reach Senegal by the morrow. But how vain were
all our hopes, and what sufferings had we yet to endure!
At half past seven, the sky was covered with stormy clouds. The
serenity we had admired a little while before, entirely disappeared,
and gave place to the most gloomy obscurity. The surface of the ocean
presented all the signs of a coming tempest. The horizon on the side
of the Desert had the appearance of a long hideous chain of mountains
piled on one another, the summits of which seemed to vomit fire and
smoke. Bluish clouds, streaked with a dark copper color, detached
themselves from that shapeless heap, and came and joined with those
which floated over our heads. In less than half an hour the ocean
seemed confounded with the terrible sky which canopied us. The stars
were hid. Suddenly a frightful noise was heard from the west, and all
the waves of the sea rushed to founder our frail bark. A fearful
silence succeeded to the general consternation. Every tongue was mute;
and none durst communicate to his neighbor the horror with which his
mind was impressed. At intervals the cries of the children rent our
hearts. At that instant a weeping and agonized mother bared her breast
to her dying child, but it yielded nothing to appease the thirst of
the little innocent who pressed it in vain. O night of horrors! what
pen is capable to paint thy terrible picture! How describe the
agonizing fears of a father and mother, at the sight of their children
tossed about and expiring of hunger in a small boat, which the winds
and waves threatened to engulf at every instant! Having full before
our eyes the prospect of inevitable death, we gave ourselves up to our
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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