The Argosy, Vol. 76, No. 3 — page 162: what you’re looking at

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

632 The old ship rolled far over, and then righted swiftly, only to roll fu- riously over to port again. Then she was lifted up and let down to strike once more. It seemed an hour that we stood in the dark and reeking cabin waiting for the end. It came in a wild rush, amid the crashing of heavy timbers, the snapping of teakwood planks and an inrush of foamy water from above. And the very end was a subsidence of the racket. ‘The motion ceased. Nelson turned up the flickering wick of the bulkhead lantern and we stared at each other—the Evanses, Anerson, Meta Braun, and myself. While the gale still bellowed over- head and we could hear the swift rush of water past the ship’s side, we all distinctly heard the voice of Nelson saying: “Land! Land! We’re ashore, by all that’s holy—and there’s no land. here!’’ “Are we dead?” demanded Meta shrilly. The cabin door slid back resound- ingly and a half-dozen figures threw themselves down among us. It was part of the crew, and they were shout- ing: “Land, sir! Go ashore, sir! away from this wreck before she breaks up!” Then Nelson resumed his duties as master of a vessel and, with an alert tyet composed step, left the shattered cabin for the deck. The crew clam- bered after him. I was afraid to in- vestigate, for there was no land in these latitudes. IT. It was land, as we saw in the first glimmer in the morning. The wreck of the Indian Star had been driven across hundreds of miles to strike on a small, uncharted islet, whose out- line was that of a cock’s comb. ‘The miracle of that was lost in our thank- fulness that the shore had been sheer enough to allow the heavy hulk to be driven up beyond the heaviest surf. Get . THE ARGOSY. We clambered over the side and dropped to the shale just so soon as the light was sufficient. Nelson assem- bled us in the windy dawn and ad- dressed us solemnly. His remarks were made with the tilted hulk as a background—a grim commentary. “We're on an island that no one ever heard about,” he said. “ How we got here doesn’t concern us now. But we are. The Indian Star is a total wreck, so entire that we must hasten to secure what provisions may be left. And ”’—he lowered hts tones—“ this islet is absolutely barren, so far as I can tell now. So we must get provi- sions off the ship to last us until we are picked up.” Our commander stopped a moment here, and then said with unaffected simplicity: “God help.us all!” Examination of the wreck soon showed us that what we would save from the sea must be quickly saved. One Hop’s galley was gone, and with it the gear. The lazaretto was a mass of sand and brine. All told, we couldn’t accumulate more than enough flour and biscuits to last us a month. Evans surveyed the little heap lying under the rough shelter we had built out of wreckage and smiled at his wife. “Salmon!” he murmured. “Two thousand tons of salmon, and _ that’s all!” She nodded, brushing her hair wearily from her eyes. ‘“ Yes; and Meta and I walked pretty nearly all the way around the island and, Tom, there isn’t even a spear of grass!” “Volcanic,” Anerson explained briefly. Now we all knew the history of the rise and subsidence of volcanic islands in Bering Sea, and Anerson’s com- monplace remark brought a pallor to Mrs. Evans’s face that gave me a slight glimpse of all that lay ahead of us of fear and dread and the incredible toil of enduring a vacant horizon. But no more was said until One Hop had succeeded in preparing us a meal COMicdoo S CO@