The Wreck of the South Pole and Other Strange Tales — page 224: 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. 217 waves and fell at our feet. A rope had been fastened to a stake on the top of the cliff and hung down to the ledge to assist adventurous climbers, but so far we had not cared to make use of it, although warned several times by the wreckers to do so. We did an ungallant act. We sent a lady up the rope with instructions to cut it when she reached the top. She did so, and the rope fell at our feet. My friend seized it, tied one end about my waist and lowered me to the sea. Half blinded by the salt water, I managed to se- cure the body, tied it to my own by means of a few feet of rope left free for that purpose, and by the combined muscles of my friend and the lady with him we were drawn up to a place of safety. _ Imagine my surprise on reaching the shelf to find the body we had rescued was the body of my overland com- panion, the young specimen hunter. By this time the lady who had ascended and cut the rope had brought several wreckers to our assistance, and we were, one by one, drawn up to the top of the cliff. There we brought my friend back to life and, partly in the wreckers’ cabin and partly in a dingy little room in Spanishtown, that night he told me the following story, which he amplified the next day when he was stronger. After leaving me the night of the opera he had found smooth sailing for twelve hours. Then a storm came up and he found that his crew was entirely useless. One man only, the one from whom he had engaged the sloop, understood anything about navigation. The rest of the CONNIE OOOLKS (SO)