The same Capt. Gorman, who had the command of our ship had a few years before, commanded one called the Francis Spade, and by his mismanagement, she water-logged, was dismasted, and lost. The crew of that ill-fated vessel remained upon the wreck seven days in a state of starvation, their ship stores having been swept away. They at last resorted to the horrible extreme of casting lots, to see which should fall a victim to satisfy the hunger of the rest. The first lot fell upon a boy 12 or 15 years of age. Knowing his fate, with that degree of fortitude that characterized the martyrs of other days, he set about putting an end to his own life by bleeding. After trying in vain to open a vein in his arm, he called for a blanket, which he wrapped around his form; then cutting a deep gash in the bottom of both feet, calmly laid himself down to meet the death which it was his lot to suffer. No sooner had the pulse ceased to beat, than the body was divided among the half famished crew, who with the rapacity of tigers fell to devouring it. Two other boys afterwards fell victims to the same fate. [229] Some of our crew being rather superstitious, fancied they heard groans and deep sighs, when we were in the vicinity of the scene of the above related horrible transaction. So firmly was the belief established in their minds, that nothing could dissuade them from it, and often would they mention it as an actual occurrence. In this situation we passed another night, hoping that the morning would bring relief. Our hopes were not realized, but quite to the contrary, for the gale increased instead of abating. All hands were called to close-reef the main-top-sail, the pumps were obliged to be kept in constant operation, there having been seven feet of water in the hold since the first commencement of the gale. A heavy sea struck the ship and spun the wheel at which I was stationed, rapidly around, the spokes of it caught me under the jacket, throwing me heels over head and thrusting me head foremost through a partition of stout panel-work, which left me senseless for a moment. The captain being near caught the wheel and prevented the ship from broaching to, which it must have done and perhaps to our entire loss, had not timely assistance been offered. I was carried below, my shoulder bathed and placed in a sling—after the pain had subsided somewhat, I went to the pumps, working with one hand, thus relieving one man who could render assistance elsewhere. There I remained three days and two nights with but little cessation, when at the expiration of this time the gale abated. We saw the Skelligo light on the coast of Ireland and in a few hours we were[230] safely in the mouth of the river Shannon, which is navigated by large ships 200 miles.