The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913, 1895-08-04

He had reached the limit of human en-
durance. He was not coward, He had
faced physical danger many times. never
flinching. Nor was he easily cast down.
He had pressed forward for years, in the
face of almost insurmountable obstacles.
Now crushing disaster had overtaken him.
Life had become blank. His hearts de-
sire had failed. His souls ambition was
thwarted. The darkness of inevitable de-
feat had settled down upon him and there
was no way out.
These are not idle words. The mans
case was desperate.
He was determined to end the struggle.
He decided to drown himself. He was
swimmer but the river below is a match
for the strongest man. 1t runs a swift,
turbulent course to fall, beyond which
the waters are caught in a swirling mael-
strom that sucks in every object that
comes to its grasp, drawing it down, re-
lentlessly, to certain death. From that
vortex escape is impossible.
He made his final preparations and left
home.
His way lay across fields and along
shady lane. He passed cottage where
doctors carriage waited. AS he drew near
the house the feeble wall OF a newborn in
FAINT assaulted his ears. He paused an in
slant, and even smiled, as he recognized
the sound. He journeyed on, his mind
busying itself with thoughts of the life
Just begun. His heart yearned over it.
How fitting that its first articulate sound
should be a wall
Crossing field he saw flock of meadow
larks. AS he watched them he heard
shot. The birds scattered. One flew up
into the sky and then fell at his feet, where
it lay still. He picked it up. 1t had been
shot through the heart. AS he held the
tiny body, still warm, in his open palm, he
felt glow of indignation at such wanton
destruction of life. He would have given
much to restore the little feathered thing
to its cond ition of moment before. He
laid it tenderly down among the stubble
and went on. He noted the blue sky and
the green hills. He reminded himself that
| he saw them for the last time.
He passed close beside grazing horse
and laid his hand upon the animals neck
with sense of loving kinship.
He crossed bridge spanning deep cut
made ages ago by some upheaval of the
earth's crust. 1t was very deep and the
rocks below were ragged and threatening.
| The bridge was a frail structure. Half way
across he stepped upon board that had
become loosened The end flew up and he
| fell, rolling clear out to the edge of the
bridge. He clutched the rail desperately
and with the greatest difficulty swung him
self back to safety. He stood for an in
slant, painting and breathless. He scru-
tinized the loose board. 1t was only a sur
face board. The understructure was firm
and solid. 'But it was a narrow escape"
he said to himself and he shivered.
Then he smiled at the thought of the
errand upon which he was bound and at
He passed on his way.
| At last he reached the river. 1t ran deep
and broad and swift between the tree-lined
banks. 1t seemed to bid him welcome.
He laid his hand with a sense of leave
taking upon the rough bark of liveoak.
The branches dropped gently over him, as
! though the great tree were benehcent
spirit. The river called. Within its bosom
was rest. Behind was desperation. He
was about to take the plunge, when ne
heard voices, below him on the bank A
nursemaid and child were coming toward
him.
He turned impatiently away. He would
seek another spot.
| He had walked several PAGES when he
| heard shrill scream.
He rushed back to learn its cause and
saw the child disappear beneath the waters.
| The maid stood upon the bank screaming
and wringing her hands.
| Without an instant's hesitation he threw
off coat and shoes and sprang to the
| rescue.
| AS the child rose to the surface he
| grasped it by the skirt. The current car
/, ried them out into the stream and bore
| them downward. 1t was very swift. He
| held the child's head above the
water and struck out for the shore. Still
1 the current bore them downward. He
battled with it ferceIy The water but
feted him with savage blows and tossed
| him like a chip upon its waves. He
fought his way, inch by inch, toward the
shore. The maid still stood there scream
ing and wringing her hands.
| He had almost reached the goal when
the river tossed him back into the current.
| The water sparkled and danced in the
sunlight. He returned to the charge like
demon. Every nerve was tense, every
muscle was strained to the uttermost In
| the effort to reach the shore.
| At length he gained the quiet, close in,
under the shade of the liveoaks. The
bank was high and shelving. He rallied
! his strength for one final effort and raised
II his burden above his head. The maid,
come to her senses, grasped the little one.
The child was saved.
The swimmer sank back into the bosom
| of the river. The water closed around
| him and the current bore him swiftly
| downward. The maid stood upon the