A. Merritt's Fantasy Magazine, October 1950 — page 95: what you’re looking at

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

Under the fringe of palms a low wailing rose, swelled, and mingled wildly with the rash of the surf—the thin, blood-curding ululations of a primitive woman mourning for a lost loved one. 93 (C(O) 6)(0)©) S (C(O)