The Argosy, Vol. 76, No. 3 — page 164: what you’re looking at

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

634 ‘Yes,’ agreed Nelson. “ But the storm is over for this time.’ He sighed. “ But the Indian Star is gone, too.” A couple of the sailors stepped up from the darkness that rimmed the fire and asked for a word. Permission given promptly, the man stated that he and his mates felt that there must be no misunderstanding of their position. ‘You see,” he explained, “ some one has got to travel on and find a ship to take the rest off. We've been talkin’ it over, sir, and we can fix up that skiff plenty good enough to fetch some- where.” I saw Nelson’s face grow wooden. He merely nodded. I, as well, knew what was coming, and I knew, as well, that the logic that the crew would use was irrefutable. The speaker’s face hardened also as he proceeded: “ The skiff and—” “And,” repeated Nelson, else?” It was an extraordinary moment. Destiny was at the door, demanding her rights. The seaman lifted his weather-burnt countenance to the dark’ firmanent, as 1f in silent appeal to the justice of fate. Then he said bluntly: “* And the flour and biscuit and such, 99 ‘* what sir. It had been said. We were to be left without either boat or other food than tinned fish on an absolutely ster- ile islet in a lonely sea. And this was right and proper —the equity of the sea. : The damaged skiff could carry only the eight survivors of the fo’c’s’le hands. It would never carry us of the afterguard, much less the women. And in order that the skiff might stand a chance of arriving somewhere—on which our own safety also depended— its crew must have bread and whatever else we had that could give them strength for their voyage. | There was a profound stillness. Evans opened his mouth several times, THE ARGOSY. but said nothing. Mrs. Evans merely stared at the shadowed figure of the grim sailor, while Meta Braun seemed lost’in thought. Nelson finally spoke abruptly, as a commander to his men: “Take the skiff and the grub. You ought to make the Hawaiians, with any kind of good weather. ‘T'ell ’em we're here. [ll give you the approx- imate bearings. Start as soon as the skiff is repaired and the weather fair. Go south.” . “Aye, aye, sir,’-came the hoarse growl of the men, and they retired to their own little fire, where One Hop blinked over his little pipe in true Ori- ental acceptance of fate. Anerson groaned. We all glanced at him. His somewhat saturnine young face had taken on a deeper hue than usual. Meta peered at him under drawn brows, studying him. There was no cowardice in his ex- pression; but I thought I read in it a determination that might make him an ugly customer for Nelson to han- dle if disagreements arose. TIT. So it happened that the Evvanses, Anerson, Meta Braun, and myself and Nelson stood on the little easterly promontory of.our barren islet the next evening and watched the swirling current bear the skiff with its eight occupants swiftly away to the south- ward. There had been only the briefest of farewells, a few curt instructions from Nelson, and then a silent withdrawal of the boat under the stars. At last it vanished, and we walked slowly back to the camp, past the broken hull of the Indian Star, now almost over- whelmed by sand. Anerson stepped along by himself, moodily kicking at the rough scoria. The Evanses were hand in hand, talk- ing earnestly with Nelson. Meta Braun and I halted just above the wreck. | By the starlight I could see that she was profoundly affected by what we COMicdoo S CO@