vices as even the most modern
turbine liners, with the enormous power of the wilderness of water over
which one sails.

In such times one realises that safety rests, first upon the kindliness
of the elements; secondly, upon the skill and watchfulness of those
directing the voyage, and thirdly, upon the dependability of such
human-made things as engines, propellers, steel plates, bolts and
rivets.

But add to the possibilities of a failure or a misalliance of any or all
of the above functions, the greater danger of a diabolical human, yet
inhuman, interference, directed against the seafarer with the purpose
and intention of his destruction. This last represents the greatest odds
against those who go to sea during the years of the great war.

A sinking at sea is a nightmare. I have been through one. I have been on
a ship torpedoed in mid-ocean. I have stood on the slanting decks of a
doomed liner; I have listened to the lowering of the life-boats, heard
the hiss of escaping steam and the roar of ascending rockets as they
tore lurid rents in the black sky and cast their red glare o'er the
roaring sea.

I have spent a night in an open boat on the tossing swells. I have been
through, in reality, the mad dream of drifting and darkness and bailing
and pulling on the oars and straining aching eyes toward an empty,
meaningless horizon in search of help. I shall try to tell you how it
feels.

I had been assigned by _The Chicago Tribune_ to go to London as their
correspondent. Almost the same day I received that assignment, the
"Imperial" Government of Germany had invoked its ruthless submarine
policy, had drawn a blockade zone about the waters of the British Isles
and the coasts of France, and had announced to the world that its
U-boats would sink without warning any ship, of any kind, under any
flag, that tried to sail the waters that Germany declared prohibitory.

In consideration of my personal safety and, possibly, of my future
usefulness, the _Tribune_ was desirous of arranging for me a safe
passage across the Atlantic. Such an opportunity presented itself in the
ordered return of the disgraced and discredited German Ambassador to the
United States, Count von Bernstorff.

Under the rules of International courtesy, a ship had been provided for
the use of von Bernstorff and his diplomatic staff. That ship was to
sail under absolute guarantees of safe conduct from all of the nations
at war with Germany and, of course,