The Argosy, Christmas 1912 — page 55: what you’re looking at

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

LOOSING THE TEMPEST. But the novelty of this island life was beginning to wear off. Ordway, who had expressed a liking for it, was now consumed with a feverish desire to get back to civilization with Don- aldson. He foresaw great experiments in the line of introductions to parlor manners and crowds of people. For myself I felt more fear than desire, but I knew it had to be done. Gradually we got our furniture to- gether, and lived in comfort. We killed enough blubber seal for oil for our stove, and cooked on that. The climate of the island was not extremely cold, and we had no discomfort on that score. We had plenty to eat. But the problem of getting away was still unsolved. The catamaran Don- aldson had would do well enough for short trips around the island, but it was not the thing to start off on to find the mainland. We could only judge from the log how this was, and direc- tion would be largely a matter of chance with anything we might build. The only way we had of fastening planks together was with wooden pins, and though this might have done for the Vikings of old, we were no Vi- kings. We had the two axes from the Northbird, and kept felling trees, and lopping them into logs, and hewing them into planks. I have read many a tale where men were marooned on an island and con- structed boats with no more than we had to work with, and put to sea in them. Now I look upon those tales as doubtful. It is no easy task for an amateur to build a big boat with all the facilities a shop can give. With nothing but fire-axes, no screws, no augur, no nails, no saw, no brace and bit, no chisel, no steam-box or other method of bending the planks, the building of a boat is some proposition. Days passed, and weeks passed, and we were no nearer being the proprie- ‘tors of a seagoing craft than a pile of rough-hewn planks in waiting. 41 But the exercise did us good. We grew hardy, our appetites increased, and we gained in weight. Our larder was never empty. We had changes of fare enough to keep us in good condition. An occasional bear, plenty of wild fowl, a seal now and again, and fish. Then berries and po- tatoes gave us sufficient vegetable- eating. We had gone over most of the island. The soil seemed excellent. “This,” said Ordway, one day when we were out after a species of grouse we found among the birches, “ is a do- main. If it belongs to nobody, I'm go- ing to try to have the title vested in Donaldson. It is his by right of resi- dence twenty-four years.”’ “I think we can manage that,’ I answered. “Then he will be king of Orsgov,” grunted Ordway. ‘“ You laughed at the idea.” “Let that wait till we are off the place. And to tell you the truth, I don’t see much hope. A raft big enough to brave the seas would be too unwieldy. We couldn’t manage it, and we would go through just what we did before. We'd get in the clutches of that con- founded Gulf Stream, and land on an- other iceberg.” “Mr. Dagwell,” said Ordway sol- emnly, punching me on the shoulder, “take this from me, and take it straight: John Josephus Ordway doesn’t put to sea on any raft if he dies right here. Nix. I have done all the frappé stunts I’m going to do. If we can’t build a boat, we’ll wait for a boat somebody else built. Savvy?” It was discouraging; but, being in no danger, there was no use moping about it. And we couldn’t construct a safe boat—of that I was sure. “Do -you know anything about telegraphy?”’ I asked Ordway. “ Nary thing. My education in tele- graphing is to write a message on a yel- lowish-looking blank and let somebody —George, for instance—do the rest. What’s in your crop? Wireless? ” CoOMmicbook CO