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diff --git a/old/outfg10.txt b/old/outfg10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..eccc004 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/outfg10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1383 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Out of the Fog, by C. K. Ober + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Out of the Fog + +Author: C. K. Ober + +Release Date: April, 2005 [EBook #7957] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on June 5, 2003] +[Date last updated: November 14, 2004] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUT OF THE FOG *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Tonya Allen, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + +OUT OF THE FOG + +A Story of the Sea + +C. K. OBER + +Introduction By Dr. Wilfred T. Grenfell + + + + +FOREWORD + + +Since I am permitted to consider myself in some way responsible for this +narrative's being put on record, it is with the very heartiest good will +that I accept the publishers' kind invitation to write a brief foreword +to it. + +I have, during twenty years, been working against a problem that I +recognized called for all--yes, and more, than--I had to give it. For I +have been endeavoring, through my own imperfect attainments, to +translate into undeniable language on the Labrador Coast, the message of +God's personal fatherhood over and love for the humblest of His +creatures. During these years, often of overwork, I have considered it +worth while to lay aside time and energy and strength to improve the +charting and pilot directions of our devious and sometimes dangerous +waterways. + +How much more gladly shall I naturally avail myself of any chance by +which to contribute to the knowledge of that seemingly ever evasive +pathway leading to that which to me is the supreme motive power of human +life--faith in the divine Redeemer and Master. The best helps to reach +the haven we are in search of, over the unblazed trails of Labrador, are +ever the tracks of those who have found the way before us. Just such to +me is this simple and delightful story of Mr. Ober's. It has my most +hearty prayers for its unprecedented circulation. + +WILFRED T. GRENFELL. + + + + +[Illustration] + + +OLD SALTS + + +The lure of the sea prevailed, and at nineteen I shipped for a +four-months' fishing trip on the Newfoundland Banks. These banks are not +the kind that slope toward some gentle stream where the weary fisherman +can rest between bites, protected from the sun by the shade of an +overhanging tree; they are thirty to forty fathoms beneath the surface +of the Atlantic Ocean, a thousand miles out from the Massachusetts +coast. + +The life that had long appealed to my imagination now came in with a +shock and a realism that was in part a disillusionment and in part an +intense satisfaction of some of my primal instincts and cravings. Old +salts are more picturesque and companionable spinning yarns about the +stove in a shoemaker's shop than they are when one is obliged to live, +eat and sleep with them for four months in the crowded forecastle of a +fishing schooner. An ocean storm is a sublime spectacle, witnessed from +a position of safety on the land; but a storm on the ocean, experienced +in its very vortex from the deck of a tiny fishing boat, is thrilling +beyond description. "Ships that pass in the night" make interesting +reading; but if they pass near you, in a foggy night, on the Banks, they +are better than the muezzin of the Moslem in reminding a man that it is +time to pray. I recall with vividness the scene on such a night, and +still feel the compelling power of the panic in the voice of the +mild-mannered old sea dog on anchor watch, as he yelled down the +companionway, "All hands on deck." In six seconds we were all there; and +there was the great hulk of a two-thousand-ton ship looming up out of +the night. She had evidently sighted our little craft just in time to +change her course, and was passing us with not more than a hundred and +fifty feet to spare. I can see them tonight, as they vanished into the +fog--three men and a big Newfoundland dog, looking over the rail and +down on us who, a moment before, were about to die. + +Storm, fog, icebergs, cold, exposure, the alert and strenuous life, with +his own life the forfeit of failure, are a part of the normal experience +of a deep sea fisherman. Two members of our crew were father and son, +Uncle Ike Patch and his son, Frank. The old man had been a fisherman in +his youth, but had been on shore for thirty years. When we were making +up our crew, Frank caught the fishing fever and wanted to go, and his +father decided to go along with him. They were out in their dory, one +foggy day, and when the boats came back to the vessel from hauling their +trawls, Uncle Ike and Frank were missing. We rang the bell, fired our +small cannon, shouted and sent boats out after them. As night came on, +we were huddled together in the forecastle, wondering about their fate, +while the old fishermen told stories of the fog and its fearful toll of +human life. It seemed a terrible thing for the old man and his boy to be +out there, drifting no one knew where; and though we were accustomed to +danger, there was a gloomy crew and little sleep on our schooner that +night. In the morning the weather cleared and soon our missing boat came +alongside; we received them as men alive from the dead. They had found +shelter on another fishing vessel that happened to be lying at anchor +not more than two or three miles away. + +There was reason for our solicitude, for we knew very well that a large +proportion of the men who get adrift in the fog are never found alive. +Shortly before this experience we had spoken a Gloucester vessel and +learned that her crew had picked up, a short time before, one of the +boats of a Provincetown schooner that had been adrift four days. One of +the two men was dead and the other insane. Each day brought its own +dangers, which the fishermen met as part of the day's work, thinking +little of them when they were past, and ready for whatever another day +might bring. + +But four months is a long time to be out of sight of land, on a fresh +fish and "salt hoss" diet, with molasses instead of sugar in your tea, +and fresh water too much needed for drinking purposes to waste in +personal ablutions. We all swore that we would never go to sea again; +and when, after gliding into harbor in the night, we looked, one clear +September morning, on the seemingly unnatural green of the grass and +trees of the old North Shore, I said to myself, "This is God's country, +if there ever was one, and I, for one, will never get out of sight of it +again." + +But I had tasted fog and brine, and the "landlubber's" lot was too +monotonously tame for me. The next spring saw me on the deck of the same +schooner headed for the Newfoundland Banks, the home of the codfish and +the fog. + +A seafaring ancestry and a boyhood spent within sound of the surf +doubtless had much to do with my love of the salt water. My grandfather +was one of six brothers who were sea captains, and our family had clung +to the North Shore of Massachusetts Bay almost since the first white +settler had moored his bark in that vicinity, more than two hundred +years before. + +My boyhood home was originally a fishing town, since changed to +manufacturing, and was fragrant with traditions of the sea. Many of the +neighborhood homes in which I visited as a boy had souvenirs of the +ocean displayed on the mantelpiece or on the everlasting solitude of the +parlor table. There were great conch shells that a boy could put to his +ear and hear the surf roaring on the beaches from which they had been +taken; articles made of sandalwood; curiously wrought things under +glass; miniature pagodas; silk scarfs; bow-legged idols; and a wonderful +model of the good ship Dolphin, or of some other equally staunch craft, +in which the breadwinner, father or son, had sailed on some eventful +voyage. These had all been "brought from over sea," I was told, and this +gave me the impression that "over sea" must be a very rich and +interesting place. + +But the souvenirs of the sea were not as interesting to me as its +survivors. We had in our town, and especially in our end of it, which +was called "the Cove," a choice assortment of old sea dogs who had +sailed every sea, in every clime--had seen the world, in fact, and were +not averse, under the stimulus of good listeners, to telling all they +knew about it and sometimes a little more. + +Scattered through the Cove were many little shoemakers' shops, into +which, especially in the long winter evenings, these old salts would +drift. There around the little cylinder stove, with its leather-chip +fire, leaking a fragrance the memory of which makes me homesick as I +write about it, they would swap their stories of the sea, many of which +had originally been based on fact. + +These old derelicts--and some of the younger seafaring men--were better +than dime novels to us boys, for we could always question them and draw +out another story. Some of them were unconscious heroes who had often +risked their lives for their comrades and the vessel owners; and for the +support and comfort of their families no dangers or hardships had seemed +too great to be undertaken or endured. We boys held these old salts in +high esteem, and never forgot to give to each his appropriate title of +"Captain" or "Skipper," as the case might be. We also occasionally had +some fun with them. + +We never thought of any of them as bad men, though some of them, by +their own testimony, had lived wild and reckless lives. One or two, +according to persistent rumor, had carried out cargoes of New England +rum and brought back shiploads of "black ivory" from the West coast of +Africa. Not a few of them were picturesquely profane. Old Skipper Tom +Bowman had a very original oath, "tender-eyed Satan!" which he must have +had copyrighted, as he was the only one that I ever heard use it. We +boys would sometimes bait him, provoking him to exasperation, that we +might hear it in all its original force and fervor. + +[Illustration: Old Salts Are More Picturesque and Companionable Spinning +Yarns about the Stove in a Shoemaker's Shop than when One Is Obliged to +Live, Eat and Sleep with Them] + +We knew his habits well. He eked out a scanty sustenance by fishing off +the shore and would frequently come in on the ebb tide and leave his +boat half way up the beach, going home to dinner and returning when the +flood tide had about reached his boat, to bring it up to its moorings. + +So one day we dug a "honey pot" by the side of his boat, at the very +spot where we knew he would approach it, covered it over with dry +seaweed and about the time he was due we were lying out of sight, but +within earshot, behind the rocks. He drifted down, at peace with all the +world, went in over the tops of his rubber boots, and then, for one +blissful moment, we had our reward. + +Some of these old salts were so thoroughly salted, being drenched with +the brine of many stormy voyages, that they kept in good condition well +beyond their allotted time of three score years and ten. Some were of +uncertain age, but were evidently well beyond the century mark, as +proved by the aggregate time consumed on their many voyages, the stories +of which they had reiterated with such convincing detail. + +One of these, Captain Sam Morris, was patiently stalked by the boys +through a long season of yarn spinning, careful tally being kept. When +the tale was complete, the boys closed in on him. + +"How old are you, Captain Sam?" + +"Oh, I dunno, I ain't kep' count." + +"Are you seventy?" + +"I swan! I dunno." + +"Well, you were on the Old Dove with Skipper Jimmie Stone, weren't you?" + +"Sartin." + +"You were on the Constitution, when she fought the Guerriere, weren't +you?" + +How could he deny it? + +"Well, weren't you with Captain Lovett on four of his three-year trading +voyages to Australia and China?" + +"Course I was." + +"How about those trips 'round the Horn, on the clipper ship 'Mary Jane' +from '49 to '55?" + +"I was thar." They kept relentlessly on down the list, and then showed +him the tally. Allowing for infancy, an abbreviated boyhood on land, and +the time they had known him since he had quit the sea, he was one +hundred and thirty-five years old. The showing did not disconcert him, +however. He was interested, but he had told those stories so often and +had come to believe each of them so implicitly that he could not doubt +them in the aggregate. He simply exclaimed: "Well, I'll be darned! I +feel like a young chap o' sixty." + +But while some of these old sailors liked to "spin yarns" and some had +their frailties, they were, as a rule, strong characters, rugged, +honest, courageous, unselfish--real men, in fact, whose sterling +qualities stood out in strong contrast against the unreality of many +timid and non-effective lives about them. It was not their romancing, +but their reality, and the achieving power of their lives that appealed +to me as a boy, and I was drawn to the kind of life that had helped to +produce such men. + +Then, too, the ocean itself, with its immensity, its mystery, its moods, +the danger in it, and the man's work in mastering it, was almost +irresistibly attractive to me. + +On graduating from high school I declined my father's offer to send me +to college, thinking that the life I had in view did not require a +college education. Then he made me a very attractive business +proposition, but it looked to me like slavery, and what I wanted most +was freedom. My father and mother were both Christians, but I had become +skeptical, profane and reckless of public opinion. I had left home for a +boarding house in the same town at eighteen, and at nineteen I had +slipped the moorings and was heading out to sea. + + + + +ADRIFT + + +My second trip to the Banks was made in response to the same kind of +impulse as that which drives the nomad out of his winter quarters in the +springtime or brings the wild geese back to their summer feeding +grounds. To one who really loves the ocean, the return to it after a +period of exile on the land, is an indescribable satisfaction. There was +at least one of our crew who experienced this emotion as our staunch +little craft turned her nose to the blue water, and with all sail set +and lee rail almost under water, leaped away from the petty restrictions +of the shore into the practically limitless expanse of the Atlantic. In +a week we were on the fishing ground and sentiment gave way to business. + +Our schooner was a trawler, equipped with six dories and a crew of +fifteen, including the skipper, the cook, the boy and two men for each +boat. Each trawl had a thousand hooks, a strong ground line six thousand +feet long, with a smaller line two and a half feet in length, with hook +attached, at every fathom. These hooks were baited and the trawl was set +each night. The six trawls stretched away from the vessel like the +spokes from the hub of a wheel, the buoy marking the outer anchor of +each trawl being over a mile away. I was captain of a dory this year, +passing as a seasoned fisherman with my experience of the year before. +My helper or "bow-man" was John Hogan, a young Irishman about my own +age, red-headed, but green at the fishing business. John's mother kept a +little oasis for thirsty neighbors, in a city adjacent to my home town, +and his father was a man of unsteady habits. But John was a good fellow, +active and willing, and, though he had not inherited a rugged +constitution, he could pull a good steady stroke. + +Soon after we reached the Banks, a storm swept our decks and nearly +carried away our boats. As a result, the dories, particularly my own, +were severely strained and leaked badly. For two weeks, however, we had +no fog, but on the morning of the second of June, just as we went over +the schooner's side and shaped our course for our outer buoy, a bank of +fog with an edge as perpendicular as the side of a house moved down on +us like a great glacier, though much more rapidly, shutting us in and +everything else out from sight. It was ugly and thick, as if all the fog +factories from Grand Manan to Labrador had been working overtime for the +two weeks before and had sent their whole output in one consignment. We +had just passed our inner buoy when the fog struck us, but we kept on +for the outer buoy, as was customary in foggy weather, since it was +safer to get that and pull in toward the vessel, rather than take the +inner buoy, pull out, and find ourselves with a boatload of fish and +ugly weather over a mile from the vessel. We had our bearings, I had +often found the buoy in the fog and believed that we could do it again. +We kept on rowing and knew when we had rowed far enough, though we had +not counted the strokes; but we found nothing. + +"Guess we have drifted too far to leeward; pull up to windward a little. +That's strange, we must have passed it, this blamed fog is so thick. +What's that over there?" We zigzagged back and forth for some time and +then realized that we had missed it and must go back to the vessel and +get our inner buoy. This seemed easy, but we found that it is as +important to have a point of departure as it is to have a destination, +and not knowing just where we were we could not head our boat to where +the vessel was. We shouted, and listened, rowed this way and that way +but not a sound came to us through the fog, although we knew that the +boy must be at his post ringing the bell, so that the boats could hark +their way back to the vessel. I learned afterward that the tide that +morning was exceptionally strong. I had noted its direction and made +allowance for it, before leaving the schooner, but we were where the +Gulf Stream and the Arctic Current are not very far apart and the +resulting tides are strong and changeable. We were in the grip of two +great elemental and relentless forces, the impenetrable fog, cutting off +all our communications, and the strong ocean current sweeping us away +into the uninhabited waste of waters. From my experience of the year +before, I knew what it meant to be lost in the fog on the Banks, +practically in mid-ocean; I understood that if the fog lasted for a week +or ten days as it sometimes did, especially at that season of the year, +it was a fight for our lives. I soon realized that we were lost and that +the fight was on. + +We were certainly stripped for it, without impedimenta, no anchor, +compass, provisions, water, no means of catching fish or fowl, and with +rather light clothing, as we were dressed for work and not for +protection against cold. But youth is optimistic and claims what is +coming to it, with a margin for luck, and we started on our new voyage +of discovery with good courage and a cheerful disregard of the +hardships, dangers and possible death in the fog, with which and into +which we were drifting. + +It would not be strictly accurate to say that we saw nothing during all +the time we were adrift, but the things we saw were of the same stuff +that the fog was made of. Early in the first day I saw a sail dimly +outlined in the misty air. I called John's attention to it with a shout, +and he saw it too, but, as we rowed toward it, the sail retreated and +then disappeared. We thought that this was strange, for the wind was not +strong enough to take a vessel away from us faster than we could row, +and we were near enough to make ourselves heard. Soon, the sail appeared +again, and again we shouted and rowed toward it, and again it glided +away from us and disappeared, and again, and again, through the +seemingly endless procession of the slow-moving hours of that first day, +we chased the phantom ship. + +When night came on, there came with it a deepening sense of loneliness +and isolation. The night was also very cold, the chill penetrated our +thin clothing, and we were compelled to row the boat to keep ourselves, +not warm, but a little less cold. The icebergs coming down on the Arctic +Current hold the season back, and early June on the Banks is much like +April on the Massachusetts coast. We tried to sleep lying down in the +bottom of the boat with our heads in a trawl tub, but we were stiff with +cold, the boat leaked badly, and it was necessary to get up frequently +and bail out the water. The thought also that we might drift within +sight or sound of a vessel, or within sight of a trawl buoy, made us +afraid to sleep. + +The night finally wore away, the second day and night were like the +first, the third like the first and second and the fourth day like +another "cycle of Cathay." These four days and nights were like solitary +confinement to the prisoner, the grim monotony and lack of incident +contributing to the cumulative effect and accentuating the sense of +helplessness and isolation. There was nothing to relieve the situation. +We were like an army lying in trenches in the face of the enemy, waiting +for the enemy's move. + +The fourth night we were startled by the sound of the fog horn of a +sailing vessel. The wind was blowing almost a gale. We listened to get +the direction, then sprang to the oars and rowed hard to intercept her, +shouting, listening, rowing with all our strength, and willing, if need +be, to be run down, in the chance of being seen and rescued. The horn +finally sounded so near that it seemed that we could almost see the +vessel, and we felt sure that they could hear our call. But our hearts +sank as the sounds grew fainter and soon we were alone again with the +wind and fog. The fifth day we heard the whistle of an ocean steamship. +"We can surely head this one off," we thought, but she quickly passed +us, too far away to see or hear. It was a bitter disappointment as this +floating hotel, full of warmth, food, water, shelter and companionship, +for the lack of each and all of which we were perishing, rushed by, so +near, yet unconscious and unheeding, in too great a hurry to stop and +listen to our cry for help. I have thought of this since, as I have +hurried along with the crowd in the street of a great city and wondered, +if we stopped to listen, what cry might come to us out of the deep. + +The fifth night the sea was running high. We were drifting with a trawl +tub fastened to the "painter" as a drag to keep the boat headed to the +wind, when it began to rain. I spread my oil jacket to catch the water, +and we waited until we could collect enough for a drink, watching the +drops eagerly, as we had tasted neither food nor water since leaving the +vessel five days before. Just as we were about to drink, however, our +boat shipped a sea, filling the oil jacket with salt water, and there +was no more rain. + +Every day we passed great flocks of sea fowl floating on the water, +coming frequently almost within an oar's length, but always just out of +reach. We were in worse condition than the Ancient Mariner, with food as +well as water everywhere about us, and not a morsel or a drop to eat or +drink. Thirst is harder to endure than hunger, and yet hunger finally +wakes up the wolf; and the time comes when even the thought of +cannibalism can be entertained without horror. About this time John +asked me, "Well, what do you think?" + +"Oh," I said, "I think that one of us will come out of it all right." + +He started, as if he thought that I had premature designs on him. + +"You need not be afraid," I said, "I'll not take advantage of you." + +He knew that I was the stronger and perhaps thought that if I felt as he +did, his chances were very small. + +The sixth day, John seemed like a man overwhelmed with the horror of a +situation that had gotten beyond his control. He cowered at the opposite +end of the boat and had said nothing for a long time. Finally he opened +a conversation with a person of whose presence I had not been conscious. + +"Jim," he said, "come, give me a piece." + +"Jim who?" I asked. "Piece of what? Where is he?" + +"Jim Woodbury," he answered, "don't you see him? There he is, hiding +under that oil jacket. He's been there over half an hour, eating pie, +and he won't give me any." + +I tried to laugh him out of his delusion, but the thing was real to him. +Soon he jumped up and said: "I'm going on board; I'm tired of staying +out here." + +"How will you get there?" I asked. + +"Walk," he answered, "the water ain't deep," and he started to get +overboard. + +I caught him and pulled him back into the boat, not any too soon, for if +he had gone overboard, the sharks would probably have gotten him, for +they were not very far away. Every now and then I had seen their fins +cutting the surface of the water, as they patrolled back and forth, +waiting their time, or ours, as if they knew that it was only a question +of time. Soon John started again to get overboard. This time I punished +him so severely that he did not try it again. After that, I had to keep +my eye on him constantly. His ravings about food were not particularly +soothing to my feelings, for I was as hungry as he, only not so +demonstrative about it. + +The seventh day drifted slowly by and the fog still held us captive. For +a week we had had no food, no water, and scarcely any sleep; having our +boots on continuously stopped the circulation in our feet with the same +effect as if they had been frozen; we were chilled to the bone; my boat +mate was insane. Since the whistle of the steamship had died away in the +distance, two days before, no sound had come to us out of the fog but +the voices of the wind and the swash of the waves. I knew the chart of +the Banks and had a general idea as to where we were. There is a great +barren tract on the Banks where few fish are found and fishermen seldom +go, and we had drifted into this man-forsaken place. I had almost said +"God-forsaken" too, but something began to shape itself in my mind about +that time, that makes it difficult for me now to say this. Rather, as I +look back on our experience, I feel more like claiming fellowship with +the "wanderer" who called the place of his hardship "Bethel" because it +was there, at the end of self and of favoring conditions, that he found +God. + + + + +THE PILOT + + +I was near "the end of my rope"--I was not frightened, or discouraged; +my mind was perfectly clear; I was not stampeded. Of course, I had +thought of God and of prayer, but I was a skeptic, as I supposed, and +considered both not proven. But the steady contemplation of the +probability of death, for seven successive days, under conditions that +compelled candor, raised questions that skepticism could not answer, and +gave to my questions answers that skepticism could not refute. There +comes a time, under such conditions, when common sense asserts itself +and sophistry fails to satisfy. Since I made this discovery in my +personal experience, I have learned that my case was not peculiar, but +in keeping with a general law in human experience, long understood and +admirably stated in the 107th Psalm. Such words as these have come "out +of the depths" and it is sometimes necessary to go down into the depths +to prove them to be true. + +"They wandered.... in a solitary way; they found no city to dwell in. +Hungry and thirsty, their soul fainted in them. Then they cried unto the +Lord in their trouble, and he delivered them out of their distresses, +and he led them forth by the right way, that they might go to a city of +habitation.... Such as sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, being +bound in affliction and iron; because they rebelled against the words of +God, and contemned the counsel of the Most High: therefore he brought +down their heart with labor; they fell down and there was none to help. +Then they cried unto the Lord in their trouble, and he saved them out of +their distresses. He brought them out of darkness and the shadow of +death, and brake their bands in sunder..... They that go down to the sea +in ships, that do business in great waters; these see the works of the +Lord, and his wonders in the deep. For he commandeth, and raiseth the +stormy wind, which lifteth up the waves thereof. They mount up to the +heaven, they go down again to the depths: their soul is melted because +of trouble... they are at their wits' end. Then they cry unto the Lord +in their trouble, and he bringeth them out of their distresses. He +maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still. Then are +they glad because they be quiet; so he bringeth them unto their desired +haven." + +I had drifted into the "secret place," the door was shut, and it was the +right time and place for me to pray. I saw that my life had been a +failure, that I was absolutely worthless, and that, if death came then, +there was not one good thing that I had ever done that would survive. In +fact, I could think of nothing in my life that was worth remembering. I +was not so much concerned about my own salvation as for another chance +to live and to do an unselfish work in the world. And so I did what I +thought then (and think still) was the only sane thing to do, I signaled +for the Pilot. + +That night the rain came. I spread my oil jacket and caught an abundance +of water of which we drank deeply. With this refreshment came new hope +and new courage for the final struggle, if safety could be gained that +way. I reviewed the situation and considered one by one the possible +courses we might take. We seemed to be shut in to three things. The +first possibility was to row to land; but the nearest land, the +Newfoundland coast, was nearly three hundred miles away, and I decided +that we did not have the time or the strength to reach it. The second +possibility was to be picked up by a passing vessel; but this did not +look encouraging, for two had already passed us. The third and last hope +was to find a fishing vessel at anchor, and within a reasonable +distance. This last possibility seemed almost probable. But _how_ +probable? Possibly within ten miles, probably within twenty-five, +certainly within _fifty_, some fishermen were plying their trade, +but _where_? There are thirty-two points of the compass, and by +deviating one point at the center, a distance of fifty miles would bring +us ten miles out of the way at the circumference. We could row fifty +miles, but we cannot take chances. Yet there is a snug little fishing +craft out there on the rim of the circle, waiting for us to find her! +But _which way_ shall we go? I finally decided that this was a +problem for the Pilot, and I left it with Him, satisfied that He +understood His business and that if He had any orders for me, He knew +how to communicate them. + +The eighth day came, and with it came an impulse to row the boat in a +certain direction. This impulse was not unlike the thousands that had +come to me before. There was nothing about it to indicate that its +source was any higher than my own imagination. If this was a voice from +above the fog, it was certainly a still, small one. It was unheeded at +first, not unrecognized. Reason said that to conserve our strength we +should sit still and wait for the lifting of the fog. Fear whispered +that if I obeyed the impulse, we might be rowing directly away from +safety. But the impulse persisted and prevailed. + +"Get up, John," I said, "we have a day's work ahead of us. We are going +to row off in this direction." + +John responded automatically, fear acting in place of reason, but he was +soon exhausted and lay down again. I kept on, however, resting now and +then, and returning to the oars with the thought that fifty miles was a +long distance and that we had a very small margin of time to our credit. +Our course was with the wind, and nature worked with us all that eighth +day and on into the night, as the pressure on me drove us toward our +goal. + +About the middle of the eighth night I realized that I had reached the +limit of my fighting strength. John was in worse condition than I, for I +still had hope, but my hope was not in myself. Then I talked the +situation over with the Pilot. We had nowhere else to go; we had come as +far as we could; our time was nearly up--what of the night? and what of +the morning? John was asleep; the world was a long way off: the sea and +the mist seemed to have rolled over us and to have buried us ten +thousand fathoms deep. But "out of the depths I cried," and I found the +communication open. + +Between midnight and dawn the fog lifted and from the overhanging clouds +the rain fell gently through the remainder of the night. John lay in his +end of the boat, but I sat watching. Finally, as if in response to some +secret signal, the darkness began its inevitable retreat and, as the +night horizon receded, out of the gray of the morning, growing more and +more distinct as the shadows fell away, appeared a dark object less than +two miles distant, nebulous at first, then unmistakable in its +character. It was a solitary fishing vessel lying at anchor, toward +which we had been rowing and drifting unerringly all through the night +and the day before. + +There it was! only a clumsy old fisherman, but it was the best thing in +all the world to us, and it was anchored and could not get away! + +I do not recall the experience of any tumultuous emotion as this +messenger of hope appeared on our horizon, but we knew that we were +safe. How easy it is to write this simple word of four letters! but, to +realize it, one must have a background of despair. Since that morning, +the words "safe," "safety," "salvation," have always come to me +freighted with reality. + +It is doubtful if any of the vessel's crew had seen our boat, as it was +scarcely daylight and such a small object lying close to the water would +not be readily discernible. I had thought, a few hours before, that my +strength was entirely exhausted, but the sight of the vessel called out +a reserve sufficient for the final effort. + +As I slowly brought our boat alongside, some of the crew were in +evidence, getting ready for their day's work, and they seemed perplexed +to account for our early morning call. But, when we came close to the +vessel, our emaciated appearance evidently told the main outlines of our +story. They called to the others in a foreign tongue and the whole crew +crowded to the rail. One strong fellow jumped into our boat and lifted +John up while others reached down to help. Then, with their assistance, +I tumbled on board, stiff with cold and with feet like stone. They gave +us brandy and took us to the warm cabin where breakfast was being +prepared and it is difficult to say which was more grateful, the smell +of food or the warmth of the fire. John was put into the captain's bunk. +It was a good exchange for he was not far from "Davy Jones' locker." We +had been on board only a few hours when the fog rolled back again and +continued for some time afterward. + +The vessel was a French fishing brig from the island of St. Malo in the +English Channel. None of the crew understood English and neither of us +could speak French, but they understood the language of distress and +kindness needs no interpreter. The captain showed me a calendar and +pointed to the tenth of June, and when I pointed to the second he +evidently found it hard to believe me, but John's condition helped to +corroborate my statement. They let us eat as much as we wished, but +nature protected us, for the process of eating was so painful at first +that I felt like a sword swallower who had partaken too freely of his +favorite dish. Fortunately, also, our hosts were living the simple life. +Their menu consisted chiefly of sliced bread over which had been poured +the broth of fish cooked in water and light wine, the same fish cooked +in oil as a second course, bread and hardtack, and an occasional dish of +beans, which seemed to be regarded by them as a luxury. They had an +abundance of beer and light wine and in the morning before going to haul +their trawls, coffee was served with brandy. Cooking was done on a brick +platform, or fireplace, in the cabin, and the captain, the mate and all +hands sat around one large dish placed on the cabin floor and each +helped himself with his own spoon. A loaf of bread was passed around, +each cutting off a slice with his own sheath knife. But notwithstanding +simple food, frugal meals and primitive conditions, the hospitality was +genuine and against the background of our recent hunger, thirst and +general wretchedness, the place was heaven and our hosts were angels in +thin disguise. + +In about ten days we were brought into St. Pierre, the French fishing +town on the small rocky island of Miquelon, off the Newfoundland coast, +the depot of the French fishing fleet and the only remaining foothold +for the French of the vast empire once held by them between the North +Atlantic and the Mississippi Valley. The American consul took us in +charge, sending us to a sailors' boarding house and giving each of us a +change of clothing. In another week we were sent on by steamer to +Halifax, consigned to the American consul at that port. There John's +feet proved to be in such bad condition that it was necessary to send +him to the hospital, and, as gangrene had set in, a portion of each foot +was amputated. He was "queer" for several weeks, but, with returning +physical health, gradually recovered his mental equilibrium. After a few +days in Halifax, I was sent on by steamer to Boston, bringing the first +news of either our loss or our rescue. + +On reaching my home town I did not go to a boarding house; there was +plenty of room for me in the home and I was contented to stay there for +a while. The old salts received me as a long-lost brother, and while the +official notice was never handed me, I was made to feel that somewhere +in their inner consciousness I had been elected a regular member of the +Amalgamated Society of Sea Dogs, and was entitled to an inside seat, if +I could find one, about the stove of any shoemaker's shop in the Cove. +The Banks were revisited in memory, and all the old fog experiences were +brought out, amplified and elongated as far as possible, but it was +conceded that we had established a new record in the nautical traditions +of the Cove. It took several years for me to inch my way back to +physical solvency from the effects of my exposure, and this delayed the +carrying out of my plans, to which my fishing trips had been a prelude. + +The strange thing that I now have to record is that I soon forgot, or +willfully ignored, my whole experience of God, prayer and deliverance, +and became apparently more skeptical and indifferent than before. The +only way I can explain this is that I had not become a Christian, and my +dominant mental attitude reasserted itself when danger was past. I +practically never attended church. My position and influence, however, +were not merely negative; I was positively antagonistic to Christianity, +and this attitude continued up to the April following. + +[Illustration: Dave Lived in a Beautiful Old Place Near the Shore and I +Had Been in the Habit of Spending Many of My Sundays with Him] + +But while I forgot, I was not forgotten. God had begun a work in me, the +continuation and completion of which waited on my willingness to +cooperate, and the most powerful force in the world, that of believing +and persistent prayer, was being released in my behalf. My mother was a +woman of remarkable Christian character, with rare qualities of mind and +heart, knowledge and love of the Scriptures, and a deep and genuine +prayer life. Notwithstanding my lack of sympathy with her in the things +most fundamental, she had confidence that the tide would turn with me. +Her confidence, however, was not based on me. She knew the Lord and +understood that it was not the sheep that went out after the Shepherd +who was lost until it found Him. So she kept a well-worn path to the +place of prayer. + +She was wise and said little to me on the subject, but I knew her life +and what it was for which she was most deeply solicitous. She had taught +me from the Bible as a boy, and many a cold winter night, though weary +with a day filled with household cares, she had come to my room and +"tucked me in" with prayer. + +My attitude toward Christianity in the winter following my second +fishing trip on the Newfoundland Banks was different from that of the +year before. Then I had been a skeptic, as I assumed, and declined +responsibility for what to me was unknown and seemed to be unknowable. +But, in the meantime, something had happened that had lifted this whole +question with me from the realm of speculation to that of experience. +The Pilot's response to my signal might, for the time, be ignored, but +it could not be forgotten. + +But, by deliberately putting aside my convictions of God, prayer and +deliverance, treating them as if they had no existence in fact, I had +introduced an element of distrust of my own mental processes. The will +had taken the place of judgment, and the result was confusion; I was in +the fog. I never attended prayer meeting, but one Sunday night I was +passing the chapel where such a meeting was being held. I had been there +with my mother, as a boy, and while the meetings were "slow," they were +pervaded with a true devotional spirit and a something real, though to +me intangible and difficult to describe. + +Whether I was influenced by the memory of these boyhood glimpses into +the spiritual world, or by the spirit of the scoffer and the cynic +possessing me at that time, or by the still small voice that had pointed +the way to safety only a few months before, I never fully knew, but I +went in. + +The room was filled with people and a meeting was in progress, during +which two men, old neighbors, whose lives I knew well, told the story of +their recent conversion. One was Skipper Andrew Woodbury, a man of +blameless life, but who had lived sixty-five years without religion. The +other was my uncle by marriage, twenty years my senior, a close personal +friend and familiarly called "Dave." I had been in the habit of spending +many of my Sundays with him, as he was a non-church goer, companionable, +genuine and open-hearted as the day. It was evident that he had found +something that he wanted to share with his friends, and while I made +light of it at the time, his testimony made a profound impression on me. + +Toward the close of the meeting the leader gave the invitation to those +"who want to become Christians" to rise. No one stood up. Then he came +within closer range and invited those "who would like to become +Christians," but still no one responded. I was becoming interested and +was almost disappointed when no one answered to this second invitation. +Then he put up the proposition to those "who _have no objections_ +to becoming Christians." "He will get a lot of them on this call," I +said to myself, but to my surprise, no one stirred. "Well," I thought, +"this is too bad, but why couldn't I help him out? I have no objections +to becoming a Christian," and I stood up. I slipped out of the meeting +ahead of the crowd, but in my room that night before I went to bed, I +found myself on my knees, trying to pray. I did not succeed very well. +"Oh, what's the use?" I said, "there's nothing in it." But I lay awake +far into the night, thinking, feeling the beating of my heart, wondering +what kept it going and "what if it should stop suddenly?" + +But in less than a day these impressions had passed. I laughed them off +and kept on in my own way. For six weeks I steered clear of Dave, but I +did not want to lose his friendship, and then, too, I was rather curious +to find out what, if anything, he had really discovered. So, one Sunday +morning in early April, I drifted down to his home, as I had done so +many times before. I stopped at my father's house on the way, and after +a short visit, went on to Dave's. It was a pleasant morning, and I left +my overcoat at home, as I had but a short distance to go. + +Dave lived in a beautiful old farmhouse near the shore, overlooking the +harbor, and our Sunday program had been walking along the beach, or +sitting around the house smoking, eating apples, drinking cider and +killing time in the most unconventional way possible. "It's too bad," I +thought, "that Dave has got religion, it spoils all our good times"; but +I was hoping to find him less strenuous on the subject than when I had +heard him in the chapel six weeks before. But Dave's conversion was so +genuine and his enthusiasm so real that it was impossible for me +entirely to resist and beat back the impact of his testimony. + +I concealed my impressions, however, and told him that no doubt he +needed it, it was probably a good thing for him, I wouldn't say a word +to discourage him, but as for me, I did not need that kind of medicine. +He urged me to go to church with him, but I declined his invitation so +positively that he did not renew it. "I'll walk along with you as far as +the corner," I said, but when we came to the point of parting an impulse +came to me to go with him. "Walk slow, Dave," I said, "I'll go in and +get my coat and go to church with you." We were both surprised, he, +because he had given up all hope of my going with him, and I, because +ten seconds before I had no thought of going. I have often thought of it +since, and never without a sense of profound thankfulness for the +impulse that came to me that bright Sunday morning, at the parting of +the ways. + +I went with Dave to church that morning, came back and spent the +afternoon with him and went with him again to the evening service, after +which I remained for personal conversation. Dave had exhausted his +ammunition, but the man who talked with me had been practicing the +Christian life for twenty-five years and was a man of fine personality, +culture and business experience. He knew the Gospel and also knew human +nature, and mine in particular, while I knew that he was genuine. + +"Charlie," he said, "don't you think it is time for you to be a +Christian?" + +"No," I answered, "I can't be a hypocrite; I can't pretend to believe +what I don't believe." + +"What is there that you can't believe?" + +"Well, there is the Bible, for instance." + +"Don't you believe the Bible?" + +"About as I believe Robinson Crusoe." + +"Do you think the trouble is with the Bible, or with yourself? Don't you +think that, if you had faith, as a Christian man, the Bible would be a +different book to you?" + +"That looks easy; of course, if I had faith I would be just as you are. +But how can a man believe what he does not believe?" + +"Did you ever hear about prayer?" + +"Yes, I have heard something about it." + +"Don't you think that there is something in it?" + +"Yes, I am inclined to think there is." (I could not honestly deny it in +the light of my experience.) + +"Well, don't you think that if you were to pray to God for faith, God +would give it to you?" + +This question touched the spring of memory, and conscience showed me +what it thought of me. I was ashamed of my littleness and of my +unscientific attitude of mind in wilfully ignoring the greatest facts of +my experience, and I was also ashamed of my ingratitude. And so, in an +unguarded moment, that is, in a moment when my will was off its guard +and my judgment asserted its right to be heard, I gave my answer to the +question and the answer was, "Yes, I believe that He would." + +And then came the question, "Won't you do it?" This question +precipitated the fight of my life. I do not remember how long my friend +waited for my answer, but judging from the struggle in my mind, it must +have been a long time. What would it mean for me to answer this question +in the affirmative? First, it would mean the sacrifice of my +independence; next, it would mean fellowship with a lot of so-called +Christians, whose Christianity was not of a manly type; third, it would +mean a step in the dark, and this seemed to me to be unreasonable. On +the other hand, it might mean the winning of something better than that +which I called independence; it might also mean fellowship with the +really great characters of the Christian Church, and these men had +always appeared very attractive to me. With this last thought came the +question, How did these men live the victorious life? and it was clear +to me that they lived it by faith. Then came the thought, How did they +begin to have faith? and it seemed to me that this step in the dark, +which I hesitated to take, was probably the very step by which these +great men had passed from a life of unbelief to their victory of faith. + +This last thought came as a revelation. It had always seemed to me that +faith was an experience of the emotions or a satisfying of the +intellect, and that one might _obtain_ faith by the _initiative +of the will_ was a new idea to me. If this was true, the step in the +dark was not unreasonable but scientific and psychological. I was +certainly in the dark then. It could be no darker if I went forward in +the path to which my friend invited me. I decided therefore to take the +step and to pray for faith, hoping that in the process I should find a +Christian experience. And so I answered, "Yes, I'll do it." + +My friend prayed with me and then I prayed, but all that I could say was +"Lord, show me the way." I was not conscious of any special interest, I +had simply willed to pray and wanted to believe. I had won the fight +with myself, however, to the extent of getting the consent of my will to +pray and to trust, but I realized that the battle with myself was only +begun and I knew also that I had another fight ahead of me, or a series +of them, with the conditions that hemmed me in and seemed to make the +Christian life impracticable. + +One of these adverse conditions was my relations with the men in my +boarding house. How could I go back and tell them that I had decided to +do the thing that I had ridiculed and scoffed at in their presence? Of +course this was pure cowardice; I was afraid of their ridicule. But the +break was made easier for me than I feared it would be. I found on +entering the smoking room of the boarding house, that "Uncle Dick Moss," +a rank spiritualist, had the floor. He was on his high horse and was +charging up and down the room in the midst of a bitter and blatant +Ingersollian tirade against Christianity and the Bible. The crowd was +cheering him on. The day before, this probably would have amused me and +I might have followed him, supporting his arguments, or rather +assertions--there were no arguments. + +But during the twelve hours that had just passed I had been facing +realities and Uncle Dick's exhibition disgusted me. So when he had +quieted down, I decided that it was time for me to run up my colors. If +the break had to come, it had better come then. "Uncle Dick," I said, +"you have been talking about something that you don't know anything +about. Here you are swallowing spiritualism, hook, bob and sinker, and +having trouble with the Bible and the only religion that can do the +business that we need to have done. The trouble with you is that you are +afraid that the Bible will upset your spiritualism, and you don't dare +to investigate the Bible and stand by the result of your investigation. +I'm tired of this whole business, and I have made up my mind to +investigate the Bible and, if it is what I think it is, to try to live +by it. I am going to be a Christian." + +A shout and a laugh went up. I was called "Deacon," and it was suggested +that I lead in prayer or at least make a few remarks. But I had said +enough to put myself on record and it was hardly to be expected that +they would take me seriously on such short notice. When it came time to +go to bed I felt that in order not to be misunderstood I must pray in +the presence of my roommate. He was a cynic and a nothingarian and I +felt sure that he would neither understand nor appreciate it. It was +hard to bring it about, as he kept on talking in a way that seemed to +give me no opportunity to turn the subject naturally. I was tempted to +let it pass, but felt that, if I did, it would be fatal to my new-formed +purpose. So finally, in almost an agony of awkwardness, I blurted out, +"Jim, I don't care what you think about it, I'm going to pray." Jim +proved to be entirely mild and agreeable about it, however, and gave me +his blessing in a patronizing sort of a way. The next day I burned my +bridges behind me by packing my trunk and going home. + +Up to this time I was conscious of nothing unusual. What things had +taken place I had done myself and it had been entirely within my own +option and power to do or not to do them. I had received the testimony +of at least four witnesses of the fact of conversion and the reality of +the Christian life; I had relaxed the opposition of my will and given my +judgment a chance to act; I had taken advice from experience; I had +prayed; I had turned my face toward the Christian life; I had cut loose +from conditions unfriendly to Christian experience, and I was trying to +be a Christian. But I was still in the fog. + +For the next three days I worked very hard trying to be a Christian. I +attended a meeting each night, rose for prayer, prayed, did everything I +was told to do, and as much more as I could think of. The burden of my +prayer and of my requests for prayer was that I might have faith. I +wanted to get something that I thought every Christian had, or must have +in order to be a Christian, and so far as I knew, I was willing to pay +the price. But nothing resulted, except the natural weariness from my +own exertions. I was still in the fog. + +The fifth day was "Fast Day," a good old New England institution, with a +prayer meeting in the morning, which I attended and at which I rose for +prayer. In the afternoon was a union service, with a civic or +semi-religious topic, but I attended it, as I did not want anything to +get by me that might contribute to the solution of my problem. There was +scarcely anything about the service that was calculated to make a +spiritual impression. The address was poor, as also was the music. I +tried to follow the argument, but finally gave it up and began to think +about that which had been uppermost in my mind for the five days past. +The thing baffled me; the object of my quest had eluded my every effort +to grasp it. The experience of the five days was new, but it contained +nothing but that which could be accounted for by purely natural causes. +I reviewed the whole period to see if I had left out any essential part +of the formula. Was it possible that my skepticism had been well +founded, that there was nothing in the so-called "Christian experience" +after all? It was about four o'clock in the afternoon of the fifth day +since I had set my face toward the Christian life and I was still in the +fog. + +But I was weary with the effort, and as I thought it over, I said to +myself "What are you trying to do?" and the answer was, "I am trying to +be a Christian." Then it dawned upon me that _trying_ was not +_trusting_; that, if I succeeded in my effort, I should have only a +self-made product and not the religion of the Bible and that it was +unreasonable for me to expect the results of faith before exercising +faith itself. I was stumbling at the very simplicity of faith. I was +working to win what God was waiting to give, while my latent faculty of +faith, the greatest asset in personality, was lying worthless through +disuse. I thought of my experience on the ocean, when finally, helpless +to help myself, I had left my whole problem with the Pilot and He had +taken command and brought us through to safety, and so I deliberately +gave up the struggle and said to myself, "It is right for me to serve +God and to live for Him, and I will do it whether I have what they call +an 'experience' or not." And, having settled the question, I dismissed +it and waited for instructions. + +[Illustration: It Came as Quietly as the Daylight Comes When the Night +is Done] + +And then something happened, for, from without, surprising me with its +presence, like the discovery of a welcome but unexpected guest, there +came into my life a deep, great, overflowing peace. I had never known it +before, and therefore I could not by any possibility have imagined it; +but, I recognized it as something from God. It was not sensational, it +came quietly; as quietly "as the daylight comes when the night is done." +It was not emotional, unless it was in itself an emotion. But emotions +are transient and this had come to stay. + +With the peace, there came also something that seemed to be a +reinforcement of my life principle, an achieving power, a disposition to +dare and an ability to do that which hitherto had seemed impossible; and +the petty pessimism of the past gave way before this new consciousness. + +With this deep incoming tide of peace and power came a clearing of the +mental atmosphere, and I saw that the fog had lifted. When I saw this, I +said to myself quietly, "I think I am a Christian," and almost +immediately added, "I am a Christian!" + +The fog had passed, and the drifting was over; I had come within sight +of land. What land it was I did not then know, but it proved to be a new +world. How great it is I do not yet fully understand, but I have been +exploring it thirty years and I think it is a continent. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Out of the Fog, by C. K. Ober + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUT OF THE FOG *** + +This file should be named outfg10.txt or outfg10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, outfg11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, outfg10a.txt + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Tonya Allen, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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