“Suddenly we heard a shout, and, looking around, saw the commander of the Niger waving and beckoning to us from the stern of the sinking ship.  We could not go to him because our craft was so heavily laden.  Another galley then came along, and, after taking out some of our men, together with those who were hanging on to our sides, we went closer to the sinking gunboat and took off some more men, and at the Captain’s special request we waited until he took a final look around to see if there were any more men left on board the vessel.

“By this time the ship was very nearly under water, and we shouted to him to hurry up, as the Niger had turned over on her side and was likely to go down at any moment.  That brave Captain only just managed to jump in time, when the gunboat gave a lurch and sank on her side in eight fathoms of water.  We were proud to rescue that Captain, for he was a true sailor.”

The other boats which picked up men were the Maple Leaf, the motor boat Naru, the Annie, the May, and the Deal lifeboat.

The rescuing party saw one dead sailor floating by.

The majority of those rescued received first aid on being landed at North Deal, and then they were taken in ambulances to the Marine Hospital at Walmer.

One survivor, replying to a question as to whether the Niger was torpedoed or mined, replied: 

“Torpedoed, Sir.  With the exception of the watch and the gun crews all were below at the time.  The first order we received was to close the watertight doors.”

So far as I can ascertain at present only one man is missing.  Four or five have been landed at Ramsgate.  The crew is said to have numbered ninety-six officers and men.

The sinking of the Niger came with tragic swiftness.  It was comparatively a fine, peaceful day, and the people were resting on the promenade enjoying sea and fresh air.  Anglers—­men and women—­were calmly fishing from the pier.  One angler whom I interviewed this evening said: 

“I had just baited my line and cast it out when I heard two loud reports, like an explosion.  I looked seaward and saw the Niger, only a mile away, enveloped in smoke or steam.  When it had cleared away.  I said to my fellow-anglers, ’Oh, he is letting off steam!  When I looked at her again I was startled to notice that she was lower in the water.  Fortunately I had slung across my shoulder a pair of glasses, and, on looking at the vessel through them, I noticed that they were attempting to lower the boats, while the remainder of the crew stood at attention on the deck.  We could see that the vessel was sinking, and the lifeboats and other boats were hastening to the rescue.

“The vessel then gradually disappeared, bow first, and after about fifteen minutes not a sign of her remained.”

Lieut.  Weddigen’s Own Story

By Herbert B. Swope.

[Copyright, 1914, by The Press Publishing Company (The New York World).]