The Press., 1893-08-24
CHAPTER ".
The first dav-


 As the day broke the rain and sleet abated slowly, and the wind shifted to the northeast. An iro-s crimson line ap- peared to the eastward and frightened by degrees. The sun rose. dim and hazy, through the dull, gray mist, which broke up into flying banks of clouds as the day increased. It shone on heaving mass of foam painted waters, ghastly mo- notony of solitude, except for a fruitboat drifting fast before the wind, driven ever farther to sea in spite of the exer- tiens of the two rowers feebly plying their oars.
 Their limbs are chilled, and their mouths are dry. It is 10 hours since they have tasted water. The salt spray dashes in their faces and moistens their lips l They are seized with terrible craving to lick it off, but they have strength enough to refrain; they are not mad yet. A young man sits in the stern, the steer ing oar in his hand; his restless eyes peer ever about over the distant horizon. Occasionally he exchanges places with one of the rowers and pulls Justify for an hour or more; it is evidently for the purpose of warming his stiffening limbs, not with the expectation of improving their situation
 As the day passes their strokes grow always weaker; at last the young man rises, ties the oars to the end of the boats painter and casts them overheard. They act as a drag and keep the boats head up to the wind, which blows colder as the air clears. It is better to save their strength till nightfall; then they must row to keep from freezing The men huddle close together and hardly stir until the darkness covers them: then the young man rises again, unties the oars, and they row feebly to keep themselves warm. They try to light the lantern at dusk, but their wet matches refuse to burn, so they struggle On in the dark.
 The second day dawns.
 | The sky is hay and red, but brighter. The wind is less fierce, but as cold as be- l fore. The sun breaks forth at last bright and cheerful. He beams joyously on the helpless castaways. Again the leader casts overheard the oars. and the skiff drifts on for another day They are almost frantic for want of food and water, but they keep d close watch for passing sails Not sign of human life breaks the awful loneliness The min- utes are hours, and the day an eternity as 1t wears on laden with despair. Al last the curtain of the night comes down The leader creeps forward and pulls 8 the oars. This time he cannot lift then in alone. The long continued soaking has stiffened the knots, and the exposed parts of the swollen rope are frozen.
 They struggle frantically to loos them, but their numbed fingers are pow erless to move the stiff cords. Thei hands crack in many places with tn fierce effort, but they hardly feel tn, pain. The blood flows sluggishly iron the raw and gaping wounds and freeze before it can drop off their nerveless fin gers. With 8 groan of utter misery the, cast the oars again into the sea. Now de spair is with them; he sits up in the bow and grimaces at them; he mocks then with the ghastly certainty that they ar, hourly growing weaker and colder ant drifting every moment farther to sea farther from hope. They crouch togethe once more Their numbed limbs are hart to bend. Will they ever unbend them?
 The third day.
 There is 8 heavy coating of ice oys the boat; it covers the sides with glass; raiment and forms a solid mass, like great marble block upon the float. A the light grows the younger man stir and draws himself with difficulty away from his companions. One of them i strangely rigid; the young man shake him with his stiffened fingers. The ic, coat cracks loudly, falls loose from thu frozen thwart, and with the next lurcl of the boat the man falls heavily upol his side. Even now not muscle moves and half dazed the young man realize that his companion of the night is 1 frozen corpse. They cannot pass tn day with that awful thing staring then in the face, its icy limbs pressing agains the two survivors.
 The Norwegian wakes, but is too veal to assist. He mods intelligently whel the pilot points from the dead man to thu sea. He makes futile effort to lift hi arms; they drop powerless, and the young CT man sees that what is to be done h, must do alone. His own arms are use less. He stoops with great exertion places his shoulder against the corpse and after much heaving manages t. shove it overheard. It falls with sof splash into passing wave and sinks i'm mediately. The great white gulls fl, over the head of the pilot and circl round the spot where the dead man sank Their screaming whistle sounds faintl. in his dulled ears as they alight in tn water close beside the boat, searching