Adventure, January 20, 1922 — page 91: what you’re looking at

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

The Bosun of the for them to ask us many questions. One by one we piled over the railing and dropped into their boat. We did not trouble to ask them who they were—we were cold and wet and hungry, close inshore in the Horn troughs. When the hands were all aboard their officer climbed to the clipper’s deck and went to the poop, where Clegg: stood alone. They spoke together for-a.minute or two, the steamer officer waving: his arm and seem- ing to plead with Clegg; but Clegg shaking his head. Coming back to the boat, the officer told his men to give way. We went from the side of the old Golden- horn—from her wet, rusty side and her gale- tormented decks. Clegg stood upon her poop, looking toward the land. We drew near to the steamer and saw her name—Damascus, of London. When we boarded her the hands of the old clipper went below for warmth, and food and life; but I stood upon the steam- er’s bridge with the boat officer and her commander. We gazed toward the clipper —the clipper bound for Frisco and round the Horn. The snow was falling, and slowly hiding her from view. The boat officer spoke to his commander: “‘He’s her second mate, sir; he refused to leave her. ‘As long as she floats,’ he said.” The steamer captain spoke. ig: KAN 4 ‘\ Vv ‘ i} a ] aN 24 HM i ( Goldenhorn's Yarn 89 “A bold young sailor,” said he. Then I remembered the kiss that Clegg’s girl gave him—to make him a bold sailor and take him round the Horn with his sky- sails. set. THE Damascus called at Monte- w28 video and the Canaries. On the day [————#. that she called at. Montevideo the Goldenhorn was posted ‘‘missing” at Lloyd’s and the bell was rung for her. | When the Damascus came to her dock there was a slip of a girl with sandy-red hair awaiting her there. It was I who went ashore and spoke to her. She stayed around the dock till nightfall, and then went slow away. Since the day the Damascus brought me in I have been shore bosun for the Aber- deen White Star; for I lost a hand that time we rolled in the trough off the Horn and can. no longer follow the sea. Each time one of their steamers comes in from the colonies and round the Horn there is a slip of a woman with sandy-red hair and clear though troubled hazel eyes to meet her. Each time I go aboard and ask her com- mander a question. a I go ashore again and speak to the girl. Each time she stays around the dock till nightfall, and then goes: slow away. 0) a " “ade | é) Ut ist > he Paytdie \ ‘ ls ~ \ mal Pets GO .TOO (C@