The Argosy — page 161: what you’re looking at

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

Peril on the Sea. 149 This plan he had not yet accomplished. And now winter was coming on, during which season he would have to remain inactive, as far as money-making was concerned. The dull routine on the island would, he felt, be more than he could endure. Yet he spoke no word of his intention, not wishing to bear the reproaches he knew his fellow-colonists would heap upon him. But he stealthily made his preparations to leave the rigours of the Arctic Ocean when the twilight of winter began to shadow days as well as nights. He soon completed his arrangements, and, under cover of darkness, conveyed his chest of clothes and much cherished belongings to his little four-ton cutter, Concordia. Then, telling the settlers he was going to Kola to post a letter, the last for the season, to his sweetheart, he set sail early on the morning of October the 16th, 1885. A strong south-west wind was blowing, against which he found he could make no progress with his sails, so he pulled them down, and proceeded to ply the oars. But work as hard as he would, the distance between him and both mainland and island increased at every stroke. He was fain to rest on his oars from sheer exhaustion, and his dismay was great to perceive the speed at which his boat was spinning away from land, far upon the dreary waters of the Arctic Ocean. Now Carl Hansen wished he had been less precipitate, and had waited for a more favourable wind. Contrasted with the dangers that surrounded him, bleak Kildena Island appeared like Paradise, and he thought, with longing, of the great fires, before which the islanders were just then preparing a savoury meal. But he was a hardy young man, a true descendant of the Norsemen, gifted with a nature that made him scorn the idea of hardship or danger. So he settled him- self in the stern with the tiller in his hand, and, keeping the boat before the wind, he let her drift, and looked his position in the face. He had brought no water with him, as he had intended to gather snow from the banks of the river, on his way to Kola. This he could have melted on a little bogie stove, which was fitted in the cuddy of the Concordia. A supply of rye-bread and dried reindeer flesh, to last four or five days, was all the provision he had made; so he at once put himself on diet. It was well he did so, for the wind continued from the same quarter for four days; then shifted, and a heavy north-west gale followed, which, in two more days, blew him back to the shores of Lapland. ‘ . All these days he had not been able to sleep, or leave his position at the helm, for if he had allowed the boat to turn broadside to the waves, she would inevitably have been swamped. Still he did not lose his strength of nerve, although despair often assailed him through the long, lonely watches, with little to eat, and nothing to quench the thirst that was now almost intolerable. comichooks.com