The Pacific commercial advertiser. [volume] (Honolulu, Hawaiian Islands) 1885-1921, 1885-01-23

loot to and frO IN the cool wafer an IQea
seemed to enter and take possession Of his
mind A vague desire to do something
for the young son who was to bless his
life had, in some unaccountable
way, formulated itself into a tangi-
BILE idea, and he tried, unsuccess-
fully for a time, to give 1t practical
form. He realized, awkwardly enough
it must be confessed, that on this day he
ought TO carry an offering to the cradle Of
his child-an offering from the sea. In
that moment, 1t Is true, his patient. hard
working wife was almost forgotten, and
his first-born son filed newly awakened
Imagination with a radiance like the glow
In the western sky. This seeming neglect
of his wife appeared to him excusable, for
the hard headed reason that 1t was through
the fundamentally of his son, and not Of
his wife, that his desultory ambition was
TO be realized. And besides, his wife had
been with him many years and had not
been accustomed to such honors at his
hands. Would it be reasonable, there
fore, to begin now2 He thought not
An Offering from the sea surely was not
hard to ind, and yet he hesitated. Shells
there were in prodigal profusion, and
shells always have been considered the
time-honored trophies of the sea. Shells
were good enough in their way, and suit
able for all occasions of ordinary interest,
but as the birth of the first son seemed to
be an occurrence of more than usual i'm
portance John Dorn's ambition demanded
something more. Just what to select as
an additional offering puzzled John Dorm
for some time At length his wrinkled
face beamed with satisfaction. He had 1t
now. TWAS fowersl
BE a good girl, Patty, an keep the
sloop till I come back, -" said ne, straight
ening the kinks out of his body and turn
ing bis face toward the meadows. Don't
be afraid, Patty; won't be long,
Then he went across the marshes alone,
turning back his head from time to time
to see that little Patty came to no harm;
Soon he forgot Patty, however, and
walked on, looking neither to the right
nor to the left. His preoocupied manner.
his answering course toward a cluster Of
bright flowers on a neighboring bank,
told, as plainly as the day, his sudden and
narrow devotion to one absorbing object.
Under ordinary conditions of mind he
would have zigZagged from bank to bank,
avoiding the rough places and following,
as closely as possible, the paths laid out
by nature. AS ii was, he kept straight
water, bitches of mud or punches of sea-
weed. Between him and the cluster Of
flowers was Dead Mans creek. At low
tide it was an ooZy bed of soft mud, with
q tiny stream of water trickiing down its
center; at high tide schooner might have
floated in it in perfect safety. 1t got its
name from the fact that u man was
drowned there several years before.
Upon the Shiny bank of Dead Mans
creek John Dorm neither stopped nor
STAYED With his eyes fixed confidently
upon the cluster of gay blooming flowers
he strobe down through the eel grass and
out into the mud Had he been less oc-
cupied with thought of his first-born son
and vague speculations concerning the ca
reer likely to open up before him, he
would have noticed at once, with the ex.
perience of an old fisherman, that the mud
was saft and heavy. Almost at a run he
pushed forward.
In the middle of Dead Mans creek he
stopped. A shade of vexatiOn crossed his
face, for he found 1t impossible to cross
the mud so near the main channel He
stood still moment, trying to think of a
better crossing further up the brook. He
turned to retrace his steps. What was
this3 The heavy mud held him fasti
With mighty effort he wrenehed free one
of his legs and tried to struggle out to
firmer ground 1t was impossible. He
but sank the deeper: Then like
a tidal wave the blood rushed
back upon his heart, leaving his
Then he laughed aloud, a hard, hollow
laugh. Why should he fear? Did he not
know every foot of sea and shore along
the Great South bay, and was it likely that
any harm should como to him in sight OF
his own home? It was weakI IS to think
Of such thing. The long delayed arrival
of his son had unnerved him for moment
that was all. He would put forth his
strength and wrench himself free. With
AZ. 8 ha frio
-twice-three times-and stood still, ex-
hausted. Fear shone in his eyes, and the
lines of unexpressed anxiety deepened
across his pale face, yet he would not cry
out People might laugh to know that he
was stuck In the mud and he was proud
in his WRy-proud of his knowledge OF sea
and shore, proud of his ability as sailor.
He would wait while and try again.
But what was this creeping up from the
chRnnel3 1t was water. The tide was
coming In. Instinctively he sought the
high water mark on the bank and meas
ured it with his eye. It was fully six
inches above the top of his head. In q
sudden frenzy Of terror he beat the soft
mud with his hands and Shrieked aloud.
Like madman he glared at the little sheet
of water waving in from the swift chan
mel like an unrelenting fate, It seemed TO
mock him Sea birds circling overhead
Patty covered down in fear.
It was not a quicksand. He did not
sink inch by inch. He stuck fast, and be-
came as immovable as the bed of mud it.
self Cries, tears, prayers, alike Were in
vain. No one heard, for although the lit
tie house among the trees was in plain
sight, yet it was beyond the range of the
human voice.
The tide came in slowly, and after q
while it touched him and climbed up his
helpless legs and threw the radiance of the
sinking sun into his bloodshot ewes. 1t
ieered at him, and with tremulou myers
reached up to grasp him by the throat
He struggled and screamed until his
strength was gone. Then he stood still
and waited. Higher yet climbed the green
tide. Dumbly he saw slender line OF
smoke rising up from among the trees.
Supper was being prepared for him-for
him who would need it never again. He
saw the flowers nodding in the breeze.
They might wither and die. His hand
would never place them upon his baby's
cradle. Family he heard his daughter
Patty calling, "Papa papal" Did he
hear his wife humming an old tune, or
was it the water gurgling in his ears2 He
raised his arms. still struggling feebly. A
moment later the only object on the still
surface of Dead Mans creek was tangled
tuft of brown hair mingled with drifting