The Argosy, Vol. 76, No. 3 — page 167: what you’re looking at

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

CREATION REEF. us, too, how to earth up the slender shoots so that they sent out little root- lets, which, when carefully separated from the parent stock, became stalks themselves. In another month each of us had a garden of his own, and it was only Anerson whose crop didn’t pros- per. At last Hop and Meta refused to give him any more. We all saw that scene when he was rebuffed. It was in the early dawn. The stalks were now almost two feet high, thriving richly in the carefully worked soil. And there were over three hundred stalks now. . Mrs. Evans had been helping Meta after tending to her own. Evans and Nelson were at their own patches, working with rude wooden plows. Anerson, whose patch had not in- creased strode up, made his usual re- mark about “ poor place,’ and demand- ed an extra dozen for his share. — Meta looked up, and I saw wide- eyed astonishment on her face. Then a cloud came over her bright and searching gaze. She shook her head, bending lovingly over the fresh hills. “No,” she said definitely. I wondered at the strange look that Anerson had. He asked again insist- ently. “No,” she repeated. You must understand that we were nearly crazed from our diet. I thought that Meta had finally succumbed to the dragging evil temper of the whole camp. I saw Anerson’s malignant and mali- cious expression change to one of rage. But he restrained himself and went away, muttering. Meta gazed after him with puzzled eyes. “ T wonder why his won’t grow?”’ I demanded. She crept over to me and looked me squarely in the face. “If you will put your arm around me and hold me tight while I cry!” she whispered. For the second time in my life I took her into my arms. She sobbed on. my shoulder. I could hear her piti- 637 ful murmur: “ My poor little seed! My poor little seed!” But she did not tell me what had made her refuse Anerson further shoots. What intensified the mystery—for you understand that in a community like ours all 1s mysterious that is not known to all—One Hop also showed a very apparent dislike of Anerson. and would hardly serve him with his portion of salmon. | ‘Blamed funny thing .all around,” Nelson growled. ‘“ Well, three months of this would tangle anybody’s mind and temper.” “T wonder—” I began. ‘Nelson turned savagely on me. “Stop wondering about that,’ he growled. | I had touched on the one forbidden topic—had the men in the skiff ar- rived at last and reported us or had their frail craft tossed them into the devouring sea? A thousand times that question had been on the tip of our tongues. By common consent we had never ut- tered it. Now that we really had fields of corn, with ears coming to maturity and a prospect of starchy food once more, Meta relaxed her efforts and allowed me more of her company. But for all the hours I spent with her and all the speech we had, I dis- cerned that she preserved inviolate the mystery of her thoughts. She brooded constantly, but happily. Her face daily grew more tender, until I could scarcely bear the sight ef her thin- ness. For we had all got such a loathing for salmon that we ate only enough to keep us alive, or to satisfy an unnatu- ral craving. Yet there was one grati- fication I had—she was barely civil to Anerson, who now openly and vio- llently made love to her. It seerhed as though she saw some secret in his dark soul, discovered some dreadful cancer in his heart. Several times I saw her flinch when COMicdoo S CO@