Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 19, 1924 — page 157: what you’re looking at

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

THE ELK BONE SPEAR. were flung back against the wall. One arm about the half fainting Olo, Dode, with the other, extricated from the hip pocket of his tarpaulin pants, a flaming red bandanna handkerchief. Very tenderly he wiped the smear of black from Olo’s pale cheek. Still in his arms, Ole leoked up with eyes of love and wonderment. What had hap- pened? How had Dode, giant that he was, ever traversed this hostile village without receiving a treacherous knife or spear thrust, : ‘“ Just you come on with me, little matey,” said Dode, grinning as he guessed her per. plexity. ‘Just you come on and fetch a look.” Down to the beach they went where scores of Indians were congregated, poimt- ing, shaking their heads, muttering. Olo looked to where Dode pointed. She snuggled herself up to him, both her hands clutching his big arm. ‘“‘ My Tyee,” she whispered, smiling up at him gloriously. “My Tyee that was worthy.” In the offing, rolling on the swell, was a seventy-five ton blue whale. Just abait the port side flipper, the elk bone spear was buried almost to the middle of the haft. “T figured something had happened when you didn’t come on with the harpoon, Olo. Then I just naturally thinks that what a U rf Pe 627 Siwash can do, I can do, and I just paddles on, and I make out a blue feeding, and I puts alongside, and I heaves the old spear for all I got in my system. That’s all.” For a time he stood gazing down at her fondly. “It hain’t quite all neither. I and you is going to pull our hook, Olo. Yes. Pack up your ditty bag. This hain’t a fitten place for you, never was. Listen to what I whisper—three room cabin—carpet with lots of red into it—dishes that’s blue—. Come on, little matey, better be packing your dunnage.” As Dode and Olo made their way down the beach, the start of a twenty mile walk to where they could catch a steamer for Seattle, Ya-ada appeared on the front ver- anda. <A half articulate, broken cry she sent after them. Olo heard, turned her head and waved farewell. Ya-ada lifted both her own wrinkled hands, held them palm outwards. Again Olo waved. Then she and Dode walked on down the hard, smooth sand. “Poor Ya-ada,” said Olo. “I’m so sorry. Do you know the sign, Dode, the two palms spread toward you? It’s an Indian sign, Dode, and means, ‘ good luck co with you, and the blessings of Saghalie Tyee. ” U u FRIENDS THOUGHT TI had a faithful friend in Pleasure, A comrade I could trust through every ill, Who would not scorn to hymn a hopeful measure, If, sick at heart, I toiled against my will— But when, alas, Misfortune overtook me, And gagged and bound me to the cart of Care, Oh, then it was inconstant Joy forsook me, And left me at the frenzy of Despair. I felt I had a deathless foe in Sorrow, An enemy equipped to stage a crime, Who would not halt at anything to borrow The vilest tortures of devising Time— But when my soul was one with melancholy, When everywhere I sought, in vain, a friend, Ah, it was Grief, the flouted slave of Folly, Who stood by me, and to the bitter end! Ralph M. Thomson. Eomichbooks