LITTLE GEORDIE.

Otago Witness, Issue 2390, 21 December 1899, Page 66

LITTLE GEORDIE.

AN INCIDENT IN THE WRECK OF THE TARARUA.

Most o. the shipwrecks ujion our coast have revealed acts of heroism and selfsacrifice sueli as belong to the annals of British seamanship the world around. The disastrous wreck of the Tararua on the dangerous reef at Otara Point was not wanting in incidents that do credit to the name of England's brave sons wherever duty calls or danger menaces a fellow being. But courage ( ';nd devotion are not tlie heritage of any particular race of men ; they spring native from the humar heart, at times, whirever the human race is found. The devotion of the dog to his master is not more constant than tiiat of the slave at times, and from the most abject and despised people we sometimes learn lessons of f elf-sacrifice and devotion that the proudest race on earth might emulate but could not excel. Oil board the Tararua on that fateful night when the haze that hung over the lowland in t'.ie vicinity of the dangerous reef deceived the look-out regarding the proximity of the vessel to land. amongst the crew, was a black m;vn, whose reputation amongst his fellows did not mark him as anything of Ihc stuff heroes are made of.

Little Geordie, as tli3 fere-cabin Malay steward was called, was an unamiable specimen, and was perhaps the best-bated man on board, and tlie feeling was fully reciprocated by Geoidie, excepting to the slcwaidess. Mrs Aitken, whom Geordie always treated with respectful deference. She, ' good soul, with o kind, motherly heart for all of God's creatures, treated the despised black man with kindness, and beneath his black skin found that he was white inside. The stev.*»Je»s, therefore, became Geordie's guardian' m^el, and in that awful night succeeding the morning on which th> Tararua was impaled on the reef, when the cruel waves with relentless fury swepi the decks of the partly submerged steamer, and passengers and crew clung to the rigging with frozen despair, Geordie kept by the side of the stewardess. The people on tho shore kindled bonfires which shone like beacons of hope to tlie shivering watchers whose fast paralysing fingers grasped the rigging as the vessel lurched to the destroying waves that were grinding her hull to fragments on the rocks below. Those on the shore tried .to peer through the- gloom that wrapped the ship in a funereal pall ; but neither sight nor sound conveyed any information to them. Occasionally a dead body was cast upon the shore, and reverently laid beyond reach of the battering -waves by the excited people who were scouring the beach in the hope of rendering aid tc some strong swimmer who in vain sought to struggle ashore. The doomed people clinging to tlie mssb

could see the fomis of their fellows on th£ shore passing to and fro by the light of the ' fires, but those on the shore could see nothing btit the foam-crested waves that spent their fury on the sand with ominous roar, nor could they distinguish between tho wailing of the wind and the last despairing shriek of some hapless wretch as a heavysurge of the vessel loosened the grasp of his frozen fingers, nnd he fell into the churning foam to rise no more till that day when the sea shall give up its dead. To the people on the shore the suspense was terrible, and when fancy pictured the plight of those clinging to the wreck pulses ' would throb and spirits chafe at the . enforced inaction while there were lives to save. The very helplessness of those on the shore made the suspense of that awful night all the more trying, and it seemed as if ifc would never be' done. What an eternity of agonised suspense the shivering victims clinging to the wreck must have experienced can hardly be measured in terms of the feelings of those on the shore. Towards morning the watchers on the Leach were startled by the sound of many T voices concentrated into one despairing cry — a lonsj, wailing scream that rose above the voice of the wind and the ominous roar of the breakers that came thundering on the shore. Then all was silent, and .when morning dawned the vessel was no more. The people started to their feet at the sound . of that cry, and scanned the waves to see it mayhap "someone might De cast up, either dead oi alive. Not far from one of the fires ihey saw a dark object buffeted by the Surf cast upon the sand. It was little Geordie, the Malay, whom they laid unconscious near by the fire, after pouring some brandy down Ills throat After a time, under the combined influence of the fire and the spirits, he came round, and springing to his feet, gazed wildly around. Not discerning the object of his search, he t rushed down to the sen, and would have' plunged again ii:lo its black depths but for the restraining hands of those who intercepted him, and held him fast. A:. 'soon as he could give utterance to the emotion that overpowered him, he told them how that he had left the wreck with the stewardess on his back, and when he learned that Jhe cruel sea had robbed him of his precious burden his grief knew no bounds. "Faithful even unto death " was this despised Malay, for had not rescuing hands been near when the breakers rolled his almost lifeless body on the sand, the sea would have claimed him as surely as it had the good, kind woman ' •whom he had risked his own life to save. Such devotion marks the highest human attributes, and beneath the forbidding exterior of the Malay there throbbed the heart of a hero. • F. A. J,