Daily Globe

ADRIFT ON THE OCEAN.
A Terrible Night, Spent at the Mercy of the Waves, on the Bottom of an Upturned Boat.
A New Haven special of the 24th tells a thrilling story of a night's experience on the sound. It seems that the competition among the coal-shovelers at the New Haven docks became so keen, under the low prices and scarce work, that last summer the men hired row-boats and went out to intercept incoming vessels to make the first bid for the job of unloading, rarely venturing beyond the mouth of the harbor, however. Latterly they have gone far down the sound at any time, day or night, when a vessel was expected to arrive. Thus it was that Ambrose Cummings and John Mullen had an awful night's experience on the sound, which resulted in the death of one and intense suffering of the other.
Late last Thursday night the two men heard that the Philadelphia and Reading railroad steamer Rattlesnake was expected with a cargo of 900 tons of coal. Though the weather looked bad, Cummings and Mullen determined to hire a boat and row out to meet her, fearing that if they waited till morning some of their fellow-shovelers might get ahead of them and secure the job.
It was after midnight when they started, and they had barely got out of the harbor in their little row-boat before a fog set in. It began to blow with increased force, and grew rougher. Mullen, the survivor, thinks it was about four in the morning that the storm seemed at its height. They knew not where, nor in what direction to row. The wind howled and blew a gale, the rain fell in torrents, and huge waves began to roll and toss the frail boat. Both were pulling aimlessly, intent rather on keeping the craft headed to the waves than on making any onward progress.
Of a sudden a succession of waves struck the boat, leaped on its side and poured in upon the two men. They became excited, the boat turned, another great wave came, and she turned over. Mullen sunk, but on rising felt a hard substance strike him, which he convulsively clutched to find he had hold of the boat's keel. He quickly pulled himself astride of the overturned craft and at the same moment he had a faint glimpse of his companion struggling in the breakers, but ere he could help him the swift tide carried him out of sight. His despairing cries could be heard for some time afterward, and as he was an expert swimmer Mullen thinks it must have been that he was trying to reach the boat. He did not, however, and soon the survivor had all he could do to look out for himself. The waves broke clean over him.
It was bitter cold, and Mullen felt his strength fast leaving him. He knew not what part of the Sound he was in, nor how far from shore. He floated thus, it seems, for hours, when suddenly he was roused from that insensibility into which he was fast falling, by feeling the boat grate on a beach, and he had barely strength enough left to crawl ashore out of the water ere he became unconscious.
When he came to, it was just at daylight, and he found that the tide had swept him ashore near Milford. By crawling and half walking, with great exertion he dragged himself to a house some distance off, woke a dog who began barking, and so aroused the inmates. He was nearly dead, and extreme measures had to be resorted to to save his life. When he could tell his story the beach was searched, and a short distance from where the boat had been driven ashore the dead body of his companion was found. Mullen is a great, strapping fellow, and a stranger to fear; but he says the few hours he spent in the Sound yesterday morning, were the most terrible in his life.