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PAGE 4

The Remarkable Wreck Of The "Thomas Hyke"
by [?]

The brother-in-law of J. George Watts knocked the ashes from the remnant of his cigar, looked contemplatively at the coal for a moment, and then remarked:

“I think you said there’s no kind of shipwreck you don’t know about?”

“That’s what I said,” replied the Shipwreck Clerk.

“I think,” said the other, “I could tell you of a shipwreck, in which I was concerned, that wouldn’t go into any of your classes.”

The Shipwreck Clerk threw away the end of his cigar, put both his hands into his trousers pockets, stretched out his legs, and looked steadfastly at the man who had made this unwarrantable remark. Then a pitying smile stole over his countenance, and he said: “Well, sir, I’d like to hear your account of it; and before you get a quarter through I can stop you just where you are, and go ahead and tell the rest of the story myself.”

“That’s so,” said Harry Covare. “You’ll see him do it just as sure pop as a spread rail bounces the engine.”

“Well, then,” said the brother-in-law of J. George Watts, “I’ll tell it.” And he began:

* * * * *

“It was just two years ago the 1st of this month that I sailed for South America in the ‘Thomas Hyke.'”

At this point the Shipwreck Clerk turned and opened a large book at the letter T.

“That wreck wasn’t reported here,” said the other, “and you won’t find it in your book.”

“At Anster, perhaps?” said the Shipwreck Clerk, closing the volume and turning round again.

“Can’t say about that,” replied the other. “I’ve never been to Anster, and haven’t looked over their books.”

“Well, you needn’t want to,” said the clerk. “They’ve got good accommodations at Anster, and the Registrar has some ideas of the duties of his post, but they have no such system of wreck reports as we have here.”

“Very like,” said the brother-in-law. And he went on with his story. “The ‘Thomas Hyke’ was a small iron steamer of six hundred tons, and she sailed from Ulford for Valparaiso with a cargo principally of pig-iron.”

“Pig-iron for Valparaiso?” remarked the Shipwreck Clerk. And then he knitted his brows thoughtfully, and said, “Go on.”

“She was a new vessel,” continued the narrator, “and built with water-tight compartments; rather uncommon for a vessel of her class, but so she was. I am not a sailor, and don’t know anything about ships. I went as passenger, and there was another one named William Anderson, and his son Sam, a boy about fifteen years old. We were all going to Valparaiso on business. I don’t remember just how many days we were out, nor do I know just where we were, but it was somewhere off the coast of South America, when, one dark night–with a fog besides, for aught I know, for I was asleep–we ran into a steamer coming north. How we managed to do this, with room enough on both sides for all the ships in the world to pass, I don’t know; but so it was. When I got on deck the other vessel had gone on, and we never saw anything more of her. Whether she sunk or got home is something I can’t tell. But we pretty soon found that the ‘Thomas Hyke’ had some of the plates in her bow badly smashed, and she took in water like a thirsty dog. The captain had the forward water-tight bulkhead shut tight, and the pumps set to work, but it was no use. That forward compartment just filled up with water, and the ‘Thomas Hyke’ settled down with her bow clean under. Her deck was slanting forward like the side of a hill, and the propeller was lifted up so that it wouldn’t have worked even if the engine had been kept going. The captain had the masts cut away, thinking this might bring her up some, but it didn’t help much. There was a pretty heavy sea on, and the waves came rolling up the slant of the deck like the surf on the sea-shore. The captain gave orders to have all the hatches battened down so that water couldn’t get in, and the only way by which anybody could go below was by the cabin door, which was far aft. This work of stopping up all openings in the deck was a dangerous business, for the decks sloped right down into the water, and if anybody had slipped, away he’d have gone into the ocean, with nothing to stop him; but the men made a line fast to themselves, and worked away with a good will, and soon got the deck and the house over the engine as tight as a bottle.