The daily morning journal and courier., 1902-01-06

two miles off. The wind was now be
 ginning to blow up rough, the sun de
 clining in the west and going down into
 a big bank of cloud.
 l thought I would just try this islanc
 before making for Balloch. So, putting
 as we'll as I could, made my best at
 tempt at a bee-line--a rather mazy one
 think 1t would have looked on a chart
 Captain Cook himself, in his most lab
 yrinthine moods, could not have traced
 q more fancy design. It blew harder
 every minute, and, worst of all, the rain
 began to spit" This only stimulated
 me to fresh exertion, Half way over to
 the island I was now in the thick of it.
 and every moment my frail boat. light 1 ly ballasted as it was, was in danger of
 being capsized
 On and on I struggled, the clements
 seeming to attack me with greater spite now that I was at their mercy. I
 could not tell if I was making any pro-
 gress whatever The landmarks were
 all but obscured by the curtain of the
 storm. was only thankful that kept l afloat. Whether l was going In the di-
 rection of the island at all knew not | IL was pure chance.
 1 Fortunately for me managed to hit | 1t, and the wind being behind mel was carried ashore with more force than grace. Down came the rain in | best Special Scotch" style. I have off, l ten told stay at-home Southrons that | they do not know what rain is, and I
 adhere to that Pulling up my boat on | the beach, I ran over to the lee side of 1 the island and took the best cover could get. Ensconced under shelving bank, crouched--lke some Boer in the bed of the Modder--under the bom- bardment of heavens artillery, for it
 thundered as well as poured. The loch was now a furious sea, and the waves
 broke on the shore with tremendous force.
 Up to the present, strange to say, the thought had not occurred to me. Now, however, I began to reflect on the pos- sibility of having to spend the night here. I could hardly harbor the un- pleasant idea for a moment. There it
 was. The day was far spent, the rain
 poured, and the waves were too formid-
 able for any boat like mine. J began to take stock of the situation.
 Seven o'clock, September evening, two miles from the mainland; commits sariat, the scanty remnants of lunch, a little whiskey, plenty of water, half a dozen cigarettes, two matches. It was now getting quite dark, the rain had slackened, but the wind blew with re- doubled fury. It was just too stormy now to rain much. The clouds scudded along like chased and scattered squad rons of cavalry too hard pressed to halt and show fight. A nice position this! Here was, a Robinson Crusoe, playing the part as I devoutly hoped flor this night only" Crusoe, minus the com panionship of his goats or any of the rest of his little menagerie, and with out the solace of good Man Friday. True, the day of the week was Friday, a veritahle black one for me. Before it got quite dark I bethought me of mate- rial for fire.
 Fortunately there was plenty and that of the best sort, broken pine boughs and their infiammable needles safe and dry in a sheltered place. So gathering as large a stock as could before striking one of my precious two matches, I built up fire in what I thought the best place for my camp, a sheltered hollow, and with the careful ness of miser, struck light. Lucki ly with it, I soon had good blaze, which, however, only served to deepen the darkness round about and to tell me that night had fallen. I hurried over to the boat and got my fish, which, thank goodness, I had not returned or thrown away. Carefully preparing them as best I could, I soon had them l broiling, and hungry as I was, need | hardly say that fish never tasted so de- l licious.
 When I had finished my last bite I | felt quite lonely The last smack of | my lips was followed by a silence which | positively weighed on mo. The supper, while it lasted, had been quite a com panion. It now seemed as if I had lost a dear friend, or at least that I had taken him in. I wonder if the canni- bal ever suffers such qualms? It was now fearful night, increasing in se- verity as time went on. The wind and waves roared more loudly than ever, and the trees around added to the an- gry music. There was a clump of Scotch frs on a hillock near by. and as the wind tore through the signing and soughing branches, sore tried by the storm king, I remembered that haunt ing line of Shelleys, And their great pines groan aghast' Many time through that night did it occur to me with renewed force as listened to this mad melange of sound, Sound! The ar was crowded with it. Trees groaned leaves rattled, rustled and fell, branches creaked and crashed off, waves roared rain battered. There vas demonac whistling, screaming and as from the souls of the damned. There was moaning and vail ng, now and then dying away into sobs, as of the children If nature expostulating with their cru I mother And all this was for me! No other ear to share it. It seemed all he louder. the more overwhelming for hat, seeming indeed, to permeate and ,ppress my very being.
 Filing up as big a fire as I could made a couch of leaves and pine coughs, and more than anything else to hut my eyes to the uncanny surround ngs, I tried to sleep Sleep actually ,new I could not amid such a pande- nonium. Marooned as I was, solitary md helpless to escape, I had perhaps lnique experience of one of natures vildeet uortI1rOee op thir ctor,,, cua,,t |