He was a
short, sailor-like-looking man, with a strong German or Swedish
accent. He said that he was sailing from some port in Honduras for
Sweden, running down the Gulf Stream off Savannah. The weather had
been heavy for some days, and, about nightfall, as he paced his
deck, he observed a man-of-war hawk circle about his vessel,
gradually lowering, until the bird was as it were aiming at him.
He jerked out a belaying-pin, struck at the bird, missed it, when
the hawk again rose high in the air, and a second time began to
descend, contract his circle, and make at him again. The second
time he hit the bird, and struck it to the deck.... This strange
fact made him uneasy, and he thought it betokened danger; he went
to the binnacle, saw the course he was steering, and without any
particular reason he ordered the steersman to alter the course one
point to the east.
After this it became quite dark, and he continued to promenade the
deck, and had settled into a drowsy state, when as in a dream he
thought he heard voices all round his ship. Waking up, he ran to
the side of the ship, saw something struggling in the water, and
heard clearly cries for help. Instantly heaving his ship to, and
lowering all his boats, he managed to pick up sixty or more persons
who were floating about on skylights, doors, spare, and whatever
fragments remained of the Central America.
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