"I floated on my life-preserver for several hours," he said,
"then I came across a big oak dresser with two men clinging
to it. I hung on to this till daybreak and the two men
dropped off. When the sun came up I saw the collapsible
raft in the distance, just black with men. They were all
standing up, and I swam to it--almost a mile, it seemed to me
--and they would not let me aboard. Mr. Lightoller, the
second officer, was one of them.

" `It's thirty-one lives against yours,, he said, `you can't
come aboard. There's not room.' "

"I pleaded with him in vain, and then I confess I prayed
that somebody might die, so I could take his place. It was
only human. And then some one did die, and they let me
aboard.

"By and by, we saw seven life-boats lashed together, and
we were taken into them."


MEN SHOT DOWN

The officers had to assert their authority by force, and three
foreigners from the steerage who tried to force their way in
among the women and children were shot down without
mercy.

Robert Daniel, a Philadelphia passenger, told of terrible
scenes at this period of the disaster. He said men fought