men
lay down in the only place there was to lie, two men on the tables, two
men on the benches each side, two men on the floor between, and so on all
over the cabin, packed like eggs in a box.

They sent a message to their captain begging for air, but he only
laughed, and sent word back they would have air enough before they got
through with this war.

The night wore on and Cameron lay on his scant piece of floor--he had
given his bench to a sicker man than himself--and tried to sleep. But
sleep did not visit his eyelids. He was thinking, thinking. "I'm going to
find God! I'm going to search for Him with all my heart, and somehow I'm
going to find Him before I'm done. I may never come home, but I'll find
God, anyhow! It's the only thing that makes life bearable!"

Then would come a wave of hate for his enemy and wipe out all other
thoughts, and he would wrestle in his heart with the desire to kill
Wainwright--yes, and the captain, too. As some poor wretch near him would
writhe and groan in agony his rage would boil up anew, his fists would
clench, and he would half rise to go to the door and overpower that
guard! If only he could get up to where the officers were enjoying
themselves! Oh, to bring them down here and bind them in this loathsome
atmosphere, feed them with this food, stifle them in the dark with closed
port holes! His brain was fertile with thoughts of revenge. Then suddenly
across his memory would flash the words: "If with all your heart ye seek
Him," and he would reach out in longing: Oh, if he could find God, surely
God would stop a thing like this! Did God have no power in His own earth?

Slowly, painfully, the days dragged by, each worse than the last. In the
mornings the men must go on deck whether they were sick or not, and must
stay there all day, no matter what the weather. If they were wet they
must dry out by the heat of their bodies. There was no possibility of
getting at their kit bags, it was so crowded. No man was allowed to open
one. All they had was the little they carried in their packs. How they
lived through it was a wonder, but live they did. Perhaps the worst
torture of all was the great round cork life preserver in the form of a
cushioned ring which they were obliged to wear night and day. A man could
never lie down comfortably with it on, and if from sheer exhaustion he
fell asleep he awoke with his back aching tortures. The meat and cabbage
was varied twice by steamed fish serve