We were fifty-three days at sea, driven once so far to the southward by a severe storm, which struck us the second day out, as to sight the north coast of Africa before we were able to resume our westward course.  To those of us who were tightly shut into those miserable quarters below these facts came only as floating rumors, yet the intense suffering involved was all real enough.  For forty-two hours we were battened down in darkness, flung desperately about by every mad plunge of the vessel, stifled by poisoned air and noxious odors, and all that time without a particle of food.  If I suffered less than some others it was simply because I was more accustomed to the sea.  I was not nauseated by the motion, nor unduly frightened by the wild pitching of the brig.  Lying quietly in my berth, braced to prevent being thrown out, amid a darkness so intense as to seem a weight, every sound from the deck above, every lift of the vessel, brought to my mind a sea message, convincing me of two things—­that the Romping Betsy was a staunch craft, and well handled.  Terrific as the gale became I only grew more confident that she would safely weather it.

Yet God knows it was horrible enough even to lie there and listen, to feel the hurling plunges downward, the dizzy upsweeping of the hull; to hear the cries, groans and prayers of frightened men, unseen and helpless in the darkness, the creaking timbers, the resounding blows of the waves against the sides, the horrid retching of the sick, the snarling, angry voices as the struggling mass was flung back and forth, the curses hurled madly into the darkness.  They were no longer men, but infuriated brutes, so steeped in agony and fear as to have lost all human instincts.  They snarled and snapped like so many beasts, their voices unrecognizable, the stronger treading the weaker to the deck.  I could not see, I could only hear, yet I lay there, staring blindly about, conscious of every horror, and so weak and unnerved as to tremble like a child.

Yet the complete knowledge of what had actually occurred in that frightful hole was only revealed when the violence of the storm finally ceased, and the guards above again lifted the hatch.  The gray light of dawn faintly illumined the inferno below, and the sweet breath of morning air swept down among us.  Then I saw the haggard, uplifted faces, the arms tossed aloft, and heard the wild yell as the stronger charged forward struggling for the foot of the ladder.  The place was a foul, reeking shambles, so filthy as to be positively sickening, with motionless bodies stretched here and there along the deck.  Sailors and guards fought their way down among us, driving back the unarmed wretches who sought to oppose their progress, while others bore to the deck above those who were too helpless to rise.  There were five dead among them, and twice as many more who had lost consciousness.  These were all removed first and then, feeling helpless to resist the rush, the others were permitted to clamber up the ladder.  Surging out upon the deck, we were hurdled against the lee rail, menaced by leveled guns, and thus finally fed, while the filthy quarters below were hastily cleansed.