The Wreck of the South Pole and Other Strange Tales — page 222: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The Beacon Ship of Half Moon Bay. 215 One day my San Mateo friend informed me that a society of which he was a member had arranged for a day on the seashore, and invited me to go along, pro- vided I would furnish a conveyance for myself. I ac- cepted, and one cool June morning we started across the foothills to Spanishtown. Five miles from the shore we were three hundred feet above the level of the sea and saw below us a narrow trail across the sand and the ocean beyond. Upon the shore was a straggling village in- habited by “greasers,” and, as we drew nearer we could detect several small cabins near the sea. These, we after- ward found, were occupied by wreckers, who were then engaged in raising a vessel which had sunk half a mile off shore. Spanishtown is situated at the southern extremity of Half Moon Bay, a peaceful bit of sea in calm weather. When there was no storm the waves rolled up with long graceful curves, but when storms swept over the bay it was a dangerous place for vessels, and the Government had stationed a light ship at the entrance to warn sailors of the rocky coast. As we strolled upon the sand, gathering seaweed and starfish, the Pacific was very calm, indeed, but as the tide came in at close of day the waves rolled up against the rocks we climbed upon at midday in perfect security, we realized the terribleness of a calm body once moved to anger. Toward evening a black cloud arose from the western ECORNIE OOOKS (CO)