The Argosy, Christmas 1912 — page 50: what you’re looking at

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

36 THE “TI foresee,” remarked Ordway, as he helped himself to another cheroot, “that when you get to civilization you will be president of a trust.” CHAPTER XVIII. THE GUARDIANSHIP. THERE was a great deal more to the journal and the contents of the cap- tain’s chest to be examined. But my eyelids were getting heavy, and Ordway sometimes nodded while I read. I closed the book. ‘““T suggest a snooze,’ I said. ““T second the motion — or, rather, the lack of motion. I’ll bet you a bear- skin, since money is no good here, that once I get flattened out I won’t move for twenty-four hours.” “T'll give myself forty-eight. We've got to sleep on a hard bed. Our bed- ding from the Northbird is soaked.” “The Northbird,” repeated Ordway. “ How long it seems since there was a Northbird. Why, to look back, it seems years since we sailed out of Bergen Harbor.” “Tt does,” I assented. ‘ And it may be years before we sail back. But we sha'n't starve, and this island won’t go to pieces like the iceberg. Come along.” “Come along where? What hotel have you in mind? This is as good as anything.” He proceeded calmly to undress. “Some of the furs are dry,” I said. “T have plenty of furs,’ put in the islander. “ Just look.” He led us to the inner cave. It was dark, but after a moment we saw, in a dry corner, a great pile of bear and sealskins. The islander hauled out some of these, and in a few minutes, divested of our clothes, which we had not had off for weeks, we were rolled in warm furs that the islander had cured him- self, and became dead to the world. If it can be said that a man revels in sleep when he is totally unconscious, then I reveled. No sound came inside ARGOSY. the cave to disturb us. The wind might whistle outside all it chose, and bring, if it blew that way, chilling blasts from the north. They could not touch us. How the islander occupied himself while we were asleep I don’t know, nor did it matter. A feeling of absolute security contributed to the soundness of our slumber. There was no ominous cracking to forewarn us of the terrible roar to come, and the split that might send us to the bottom of a chilling sea. No possibility of enemies springing on us disturbed our repose. The island- er was a friend. Not, thus far, an en- thusiastic one, so far as outward ex- pression went. But there was no doubt that he was happy in our presence. He had said so plaintively that the fourteen years alone had been lonely. When at last I woke I did so much like a man recovering from a long pe- riod of unconsciousness induced by ill- ness or a blow. My brain had become numb with sleep. But gradually I re- called where I was, and sat up. The furs with which Ordway had enveloped himself were thrown in a pile, and Ordway gone. -I dressed, first warming my clothes at the fire, near which we had placed them to thaw and dry. I found Ordway standing on the shore, looking off at sea. “Any sail?” I asked. He laughed. “Tf, after twenty-four years with- out a sail, one should come the first day we are here,” he said, “‘ I would at once subscribe myself a firm believer in miracles. But I am in no hurry. After our experience on ice, this looks pretty good to me foratime.” “Yes, but not too long a time. I don’t want to spend years on this island.” ‘Nor. I, and I don’t intend to. I feel like a new man after that sleep. What a ninny I was—a boob—a soft cake. I,a hunter of big game, a fighter of Boxers and of savages in the Solo- mons, to go to the deuce on an ice- berg.” CoOMmicbook CO