Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 60: what you’re looking at

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

686 I offered him the gun, but he refused, saying that he could get along with a knife, “Where was the smoke?” he asked. “T think I know the general direction,” I answered, and we set out along the shore, hugging the edge of the woods, and walking quietly. CHAPTER VIII. A SCREAM IN THE DARK. HE tide was almost at the flood, and we were forced to plod along in the loose sand that is never packed down by the water. This made walking difficult, and materially retarded our progress. We advanced for some time in silence. Then Grame spoke. “What are the chances of our locating the source of that smoke?” “T found your fire without much trouble,” I answered, “ but luck was with me.”’ Grame grunted. “Do you see the palm trees ahead of us?” I asked, “ I’ll climb one of those, and have a look around.” The trees were about a quarter of a mile away, on a small promontory. If a fire were burning anywhere on the island, it should have been visible from one of the palms. Our advance was suddenly checked by a loud splash. “What was that?” I demanded. “Took out there!” he replied, pointing his finger. For a moment I saw nothing but water and sky. Then a dark form broke up through the water, hovered in the air, and fell back with a resounding splash. “What in Heaven’s name!” Grame. “Tooked like a whipray,” I answered. ** They have that little trick.” “Oh, I know the whipray. Has wings— swims as a bird flies. Long tail with a bunch of barbed arrows that it can sling into you.” “ That’s it,” I answered. By the time we had finished discussing the peculiarities of the whipray, we had gasped ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. arrived at the palm grove. I chose the tall- est and undertook the ascent. Climbing a palm is no easy task. The trunk is smooth and slippery, and all its branches are in a cluster at the very top of the tree. Several trials were necessary before I finally managed to reach the fans. I drew myself up into a sitting position, and looked about. But my efforts were wasted. Far and near, there was no trace of a fire, or anything that would denote the presence of humans or monkeys. I remained aloft for several minutes, straining my eyes, but to no avail. However, I did get an idea of the geography of the island. Its shore line formed a triangle, whose base was the cres- cent shaped beach. Thus we were on one of the vertices. I descended and informed Grame of the failure of my observations. ‘Well, you can’t expect success in the first attempt,” was his philosophic com- ment, After some consideration, we decided to continue on down the shore line, and strike inland later on. It was going to be a diffi- cult matter to find the fire, or the place where the fire had been. Here we were, on an island several square miles large, trying to find a spot the size of a door mat. If we did run across it, it would be by the merest luck. But chance had been friendly to me from the very first of the voyage, so I did not despair. The stars above us were very bright, and the sky was illumined by the full moon. As I watched the twinkling spots, I wondered if on their surface any searches such as ours were taking place. Was any man on that very bright one looking for the girl he loved? We were small and insignificant, after all. Why should providence bother with such mites as Dr. Grame and myself? Grame interrupted my star-gazing by a low exclamation. “ Footprints!” “ Where?” I asked. “Not in the sky, at any rate,” he an- swered with a little laugh. ‘“‘ Right ahead of you. See ’em?” Grame was not mistaken. High up on the beach, out of the reach of the waves, were a group of indistinct prints. Half » GComicbdooks (C@