The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1903-07-10

Within weeks sail of Honolulu Il
was discovered that the cargo of coal
was a-fire. For two days and
two nights they fought to quench
it, but their efforts were futile,
and the hour came when they
must abandon ship. They launched
the boat into summer sea and lay
by till the Aztec was gone. Then
with dreary faces the occupants of
the several boats hoisted the Ian
teen sails and started on the long
voyage to the land.
In the mates boat were Mororan
and five sailors. They were but
scantily provisioned with food and
water, but still there was enough
to last with good weather.
For two days fortune favored
them, and though the other boats
disappeared, Stallard's heart grew
lighter. The disaster had put his
dreams to fight, yet now while they
rocked on the grading swell of the
southern seas he dreamed again
about his daughter. And she sat be-
fore him and sang cheerfully little
scraps of songs such as the coalies
sang at their work, or slept by his
side the sleep of careless childhood.
The men, in world quite apart, list
lessly trimmed the sail or pulled at
the oars when the breeze died with
the colors of the sunset.
On the third night the wind rose
and with it the sea- In spite of the
utmost skill of the mate the boat
shipped seas heavily, and in the
morning they discovered that the
fresh water was spoiled.
When Stallard had tasted of it.,
he ordered it all thrown over the
side, and shifted his revolver into
a handler pocket.
Days passed, and drying lips COM
menced to mutter dangerously. AT
weeks end two men crouched in
the bow of the boat and when they
gazed at the mate and remembered
the death of their companions they
Strove to form words that would
move him out of his impassive atti-
tude of authority.
Human strength was failing, and
Stallard prayed over the upturned
face of the daughter that God would
grant him to kill these also without
murder. Then, open eyed, he slept
and dreamed of walking in the Park
| with little Mororan. And he tasted
the water of the fountain under the
trees, and saw the dew of it's cool
draught upon the little ones lips.
That dream faded, and his mouth
was parched But in another scene
he felt upon his hot lips kiss from
her he loved. That kiss awakened
him.
He awoke in time, and without
the guilt of murder he came to be
at last alone with her. She lay I'M
conscious between his knees, her
hot face to the implacable sky in
mute appeal. Over that form the
gaunt mate strove to call in prayer;
but his jaws sat in agony, and his
tongue refused to say anything but
"Mororan! Mororan!'
The sun famed toward it's setting
and the ocean shone as brass. From
the far horizon dark shadows beck
oned to the solitary man in the boat.
Strange ships hailed him and I'M
known gods chartered out of the sky.
Still he called: "Mororan! Mororan!"
The form of the girl stirred and
she opened her eyes. With culver
she tried to speak.
No sound came, and the mate
thrust his knife into his arm and
bathed her lips in the blood. God"
she murmered.
"Who is God?" asked the mate
thiclly.
There was a blind outstretching
of the hand, and then the voice rang
out:
HE has taken my feet
From the mire and the clay
And set them on the Rock of Ages"
"Who is Coda? cried the mate,
struggling with Death.
Mororan stretched out both her
arms toward him and whispered:
"You have taken"
But her arms never met about his
neck, and her final act of worship
was unaccomplished. She and her
God were dead.-Overland Monthly.