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Show ADVENTURERS' fi'i CLUB "Nearly the Last Round-Up" By FLOYD GIBBONS Famous Headline Hunter. AVAST there, mates! I mean "Hold 'em, cowboy!" Gosh, I don't know what kind of lingo a sea-cowboy uses out i know the kind I would have used if I'd been aboard the cattleDoat S. S. Winefredian, in mid-Atlantic, that wild March night with reter Mullan and 700 head of plunging, terrified cattle. Tete came so close to going on the Last Round-Up or to Davy Jones lot that It wasn't funny. Incidentally the S. S. Winefredian has -since sllf1',eU(rqll1L down the stays to Davy Jones' locker, so maybe she was just playn0 h(?3rsiil for PctB Cattleboats, Pete says, are not exactly floating palaces. In fact, they're generally gen-erally made-over tubs. . . The Winefredian was no exception to the rule. Her under-decKS were just a mass of cattle stalls with a narrow passage just wide enough to allow a man to pass running the length of the ship. Pete, two other greenhorn cattlemen and an underforeman were mirsemaius to the steers on the ship, and this isn't such a bad way to earn a trip to uuiope unless you hit a bad storm. And then it's awful. Old Ship Groans Under Waves. The storm hit the cattleboat when she was out In the middle of the Atlantic ocean, and the old ship groaned, plunged and rolled on her beam ends at an alarming angle. The crowded cattle seasick and mad with terror shrieked and kicked at every pitch of the ship, and Pete says it was plain bedlam between be-tween decks. . But, storm or no storm, the helpless boasls had to be taken care of and Pete and his shipmates were right down among thorn doing the best they could. Monster waves plunged in through the open upper-deck hatch and the men and cattle swished around knee-deep in sea water. Now if you've never been on a cattleboat you are probably wonder-' wonder-' Ing why they didn't close the hatch and keep the water out, but the trouble with that is that it also keeps the air out, and if you've ever been on one of those loaded beef ferries you know what that means. The stench and heat from the tightly packed steers would kill a man with a gas-mask on I Giant Wave Threatens Death to All. So the hatch was left open and the water poured in and the good ship wallowed wal-lowed in the high seas like a ham-strung calf at a rodeo. It was four o'clock in the morning, Pete says, when the crisis came. The , men were ladling out fresh water to the frantic cattle when a monster wave slapped the weary side of the ship and Pete thought it was all over. Pete was standing in the narrow passage-way with his mates when that wave struck. The ship keeled over to a 45-degree angle and flung the cattle in heaps to the port side of their stalls. She paused there as though trying to- decide whether or not to turn bottom side up, and then righted herself and dipped almost as far on the starboard side! Wham! Those tons of living steaks shot-the-shoots across their stalls and hit the detaining bars with a deafening crash. Some of the stalls held, but some of them didn't, and when Pete got to his feet and looked around him he forgot all about the storm, for coming right at him along the narrow passage-way WAS CERTAIN DEATH! Now a stampede on dry land is about as dangerous a thing as you can find, A Stampede at Sea Is Really Something. and I for one don't want any part of it, but a stampede at sea In a storm is really something to write home about. Pete says it was a sight he will never forget. The maddened steers Insane with terror came splashing along the passage-way at amazing speed tongues hanging out of their open mouths and eyes starting out of their heads. Men and Cattle Caught in Death-Trap. One of the leaders fell, but the rest never paused as they trampled him to death in the foam beneath their pounding hoofs. Pete let out a yell and tried to get out of the way, but the foreman was in front of him, and the foreman was a fat man and his slow-moving bulk completely filled the passage-way. Pete says he felt like a rat in a trap those few seconds that he stood there unable to move one way or the other. The foreman was an old-timer and when he hurdled over a barrier Into a stall he saved not only his own life but Pete's, because as he jumped he felt the hot breath of the leading steer on his cheek. Well, sir, jumping into one of those narrow stalls with a frantic steer for a cabiu male was like jumping from the frying pan into the fire. Every time the boat rocked the steer would go careening dangerously danger-ously around smashing against one side and then the other with Pete doing his best to keep his feet. One false step on that slippery floor and this story would never have been told. Luckily for Pete and his shipmates not as many of the cattle had escaped as it seemed. Sea Was Singing "Last Round-Up." The bellowing procession down the passage-way was only about ten strong and when it passed the men all jumped back out of the stalls and waded after their charges. That chase rambled all over the ship, and if you want some excitement Pete says, try rounding up cattle on a ship at sea. ' Every time the cowboys would corner one of the critters why that floating pasture would turn on end and men and cattle would slide kick ing intoihe scuppers. Those big waves, Pete says, sure seemed to be singing "The Last Round-Up" for him. But the storm finally eased up and the cattle were rounded up and led hnei-to hnei-to their repaired stalls with no serious casualties to the men There were a lot of broken legs, however, among the steers The animals were destroyed to end their suffering, and as the o,i .1 t steadied on her path they were buried at sea. g00d s,lIp And so, boys and girls, ends the saga. WXU Service |