The Argosy, Vol. 76, No. 3 — page 163: what you’re looking at

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

CREATION REEF. that looked oddly scant and insufficient after the somewhat plentiful fare on the ship. However, everybody showed good temper, and the sailors worked hard and willingly, difficult as it was in the high wind. By nightfall our shelter was fairly complete and dry; we had picked up plenty of salmon cases spewed out of a great hole in the wreck’s side; Nel- son had personally directed the gather- ing of broken planks for fuel, and my part had been to plan storage places and prepart for the safekeeping of our salvage. Luckily, we had our clothes and the women the small trinkets. that make existence less wearisome. We also had plenty of bedding, even for the sailors. That evening, after a hearty meal on salmon, Nelson and I withdrew from the rest to consider our future. It was gloomy enough. “We're down the latitudes pretty well,” he told me. ‘“ But I’m blessed if I can figure it closely. Look at that current that sets past that little point! It might ha’ fetched us a couple of hundred miles farther south than I reckoned.” He glanced at the inky sky and shook his head. “And it’s going to blow some more. The wreck’ll be gone in another day, my son.’ “TI suppose no ships ever take this slant, either,” I suggested. Nelson sniffed. “ Right you are; they don’t. You can see that this is- land is as bare as askull. No bird ever roosted here; there's only a few mus- sels on the rocks, and—well, human na- ture on a bare rock like this isn’t what it is in a city. Evans had trouble enough with the men while we were at the cannery. And the women! ”’ In the windy dusk we contemplated our irremediable fate. “ One thing,” Nelson resumed pres- ently; “there are a couple of fishing- boats stowed in the forehold, just un- der the hatch. If we can, we'll fetch ’em out to-morrow.” We'll have hell here. 633 “There isn’t a compass left,” I said bitterly. “Ah, we have the stars,” he said simply. So we all lay in the lee of our mis- erable refuge and slept. In the morn- ing I wakened to find Meta Braun sit- ting beside me. It was barely light, but the air was almost warm. “The sun will shine,” she remarked. “ Then we'll save more stuff,” I as- sured her. “Salmon!” she breathed. ““Oh, we can catch fresh fish,” I re- turned. “ But we'll never have any bread or any butter or any milk or any eggs!” “Look here!” I said sternly. ‘“ This is better than being in the sea-ooze. Be brave!” “Can I be brave? ” she cried. Appeared at that instant One Hop, silently holding out to her a toasted biscu;t with a freshly opened can of salmon, warmed. * Littee missee ketchum chow, more better,” he murmured. So we ate our breakfasts and pre- pared this time to dig the last treasures out of the wreck. Our whole salvage didn’t amount to much—a very much smashed twelve-foot skiff, a lot-of rope and wood, nails and oarlocks, and a few carpenter’s tools, canvas, and, most precious of all, alamp and a case of heavy oil. Evans and Mrs. Evans checked it all up. “ We can build a boat out of this, and we've provisions enough for years, if the salmon will keep, and I think it will, for we canned it our- selves, and you all know it was good fish well packed.” Mrs. Evans held out her small, per- fect hands to the little blaze by which we sat that night. “It is cold,” she murmured. “Captain Nelson, will there be a hard winter here? ”’ “No,” said Nelson; “ we’re in the semitropics—no snow at all.” “That will be better,” Meta put in. ““T suppose it’s the gale that makes us so chilly.” COMicdoo S CO@