The Pacific commercial advertiser. [volume] (Honolulu, Hawaiian Islands) 1885-1921, 1903-11-04


teeth.
DE hounds" he grinds "Dey viii
leave me-fannen BRENDA mig-dey viii
leave me. Not even a lifeboat dey trow
me-but I kan swim-by Cod kan
Hey, you lubbers!'' Here he roars as
he did in the water. you hear me,
you id dogs! I kan swim, and I
swim clear to hell before gives up! I
will swim to Honolulu, and if L can't
tow my blasted carcass dat fart
swim in spirit. will haunt you-on de
night vatches-I will haunt you. till you
yoump overboardr'
He doesn't say so, but you know that
he peeled off his clothes and struck out
after the ship. His powerful jaw is set
and the muscles under his ears are
like huge walnuts. Then he sees the
bark, by the light of the breaking
dawn, miles ahead, and they have hove
her to. AS he mounts the crest Of a
wave he sees a boat put off. Here he
usually laughs.
"By gum-it vas funny. You know
dat On skipper-he tink he find me.
Dey hunt all overland vas six miles
astern-ha, ha, ha, halt was funny.
don't even shout. Watts de use? I
joost larfs and larfs-vay out dere in de
water"
And he goes off into another spasm
OF merriment. Here he pauses, nor
does he resume until he has disposed of
two more beers. His mustache droops
again, the fierce glare returns into
those sea-gray eyes.
"Den dey brace up de fore yards
again and go on. You see, dey goes
on, vile swims after, six-seven-eight
miles astern. You tink I will drown?
nolulu-or hell. I doesn't care Witch
only gets to dose fellers. I wants to
meet dem again. 2
''But amt dot the worst ting you
ever heard of, to leave a shipmate to
drown in smood sea? Would you do
dat to your worst enemy?"
Here he wakes sentimental and slob-
hers through a dissertation on the
ethics Of shipmate fellowship. He
wants you to understand he never hit
a fellow when he was down, especially
a sllipmate.
would you see fellow drop over
board and not raise the cry? No, you
| wouldn't-not even if it was the Chinese
cook"
A few more drinks wash away the
tears. Again he bristles.
"But gets even wild dem! I will not
drown-I will not-I will notl"
He fairly roars this, and Trig's roar
is a few keys lower than a bulls bel
low.
mo! I will swim after dot gang of
larrikins till I lays my paws on dem!
You bet!"
On he goes. With him you see the
white sails fade out on the horizon, and
with him you are alone in the great
circle. Drunk as he is, he speaks dis
tinctly now, carefully articulates each
word. Have you ever been out in a
small boat alone with the gulls, clear
horizon, and land a thousand miles
away? No! He has. It's sensation
that sets the entrails wriggling within
you.
''But think, then" he continues,
pointing a huge gnarled forefinger at
you, think then-how would you feel
without boat in midocean with a clear
horizon about you? How would you
feel them"
You know-with his eyes looking in
to yours. You know you would throw
up your hands and sink. But no-not
with that fiery hate in you that burns
in your very bowels. You would swim
l-swim-swinl-swim
You are always with him-with him
! as he treads water, or strikes out, or
floats, looking up into the blue cloudless
sky. You see the froth in his fiery
| hair, the spuNe in his tawny mus
taches, sometimes floating about his
| mouth like seaweed, and those huge
white limbs moving under water. And
you see that broad, square chin beat
against the wavelets like the Prov of
a Viking pirate ship. So he fought,
ten long hours-fought while the sun
| climbed up the center Of the metallic
| dome of the heavens and began to
descend again, and the screaming gulls
circled about his head and even lighted
near by.
Here he pauses once more, and tells
you he sank; only for a second, mind
you, but he sank. A picture flashed
before him. He saw the men of his
| watch stalking about the streets of
Honolulu. He saw them in the drink
| ing shops leaning against the bars. he
heard them telling how he had drowned
and they chuckled and ogled one an
other. He saw big Steve grin, as he
said:
'sPoor sucker, we'd "a picked him up
| if we could!''
Sink! Never! He could swim-a
thousand miles! He could swim in spite
of hell itself.
He must have been a fearsome sight
| then, shooting UP again, above the
surface, like sea demon, shouting
vengeance! Never! He viii swim
| swinl-swim!
By this time he is pretty drunk.
If he were an ordinary man you would
say he was nervously unstrung. But
Trig Olafsen has no nerves, SO he's
: only beast drunk. But still you feel
| the thrill of fire in that last squirt.
| Here he gets .naudlin and funny