Oct. 11th, 5 p.m.
At midday I heard a cry on deck , and judged that Kelly had dropped from the rigging in pure exhaustion . The noise in the forecastle is awful . I think some of the men there must be dead . `` Oct. 11th , 5 p.m. -- The child is dying . There is a fearful storm raging , and with this crew the vessel has no chance if we are anywhere near land . God help -- '' So ended my father 's Journal -- in a silence full of tragedy , a silence filled in with the echo of that awful cry borne landwards on the wings of the storm ; and now , in the presence of this mute witness , shaping itself into the single word `` Murder . ''