The Hood River glacier. (Hood River, Or.) 1889-1933, 1904-10-20
CHAPTER V.
Ripewold and sankala.

just uueg CANcpb bhdb AAhNSA 'S%'NOb
was more rude than ever. My father,
I am kind to Hazel. do not antago-
nize her Intentionally, and yet she
seems to dispise me. She faunts the
fact in my face that her father owns
many fishtraps and has cannery and
that they are rich, while my father is
O common fisherman, is old and poor
and lives In cabin, and they live in
big house with glass windows, and have
q piano. 4,
"Father, I don't care for this. J
am happy with you. ! don't envy
Hazel, and why should she dispise me
above all others2"
"My child, there is an intuition
sometimes that tells us more than we
know. There Is often guilty con-
science that is handed down TO posterity
and while the posterity knows not
what 1t Ia, 1t feels II keenly. In the
case between you and Hazel her intu-
ition tells her that something is wrong;
that your existence is dangerous to her
welfare and yet she does not know
why. II you knew the facts, child,
you would understand, you would un-
deTstandP'
"Tell me, father. Why does Hazel
feel this way toward me"
II will not tell you all now, but !
can tell you much. have a long
time contemplated telling you about
yourself. but you are yet young-too
young to grasp the meaning OF the
things Of wicked world.
"But you are old enough now to
know who You are, who am and what
the future may be TO you"
"Why, father, | know who ! am.
! am Sankala, you are Father Ring
void and my future shall be devoted
10 my dear father. You know you are
getting too old to pull the boat, father,
and they say 1t does not look so we'll
for girls to mingle with the fishermen,
but shall help you at the oars and
nets until have completed my educa'
tion and then will teach school or
Keep books or do something that girls
should be respected for doing and take
care OF my dear old father"
There was long pause. The griz.
Eled old man sat In one corner OF the
cabin gazing into an open fireplace fed
by pieces Of dritiwood CT various sizea
and length. These had been gathered
from the beach by the girl upon her
arrival from school.
As the child busted herself with the
dishes and light housekeeping the old
man eat deeply absorbed. He was
thinking Of the past. An inky dark
ness prevailed outside. A stiff wind
hurled sheets Of mist upon the roof
which fell from the caves In heavy
drops.
AZ the wind arose and whistled
around the corners OF the cabin the
old man startled as II awakened
from terrible experiences OF the past.
II was a small structure nesting in
the tall timbers near The beach, scant-
lily furnished. A few cooking utensils
on the open fireplace were used for pre-
pairing the meals. A large bed and a
small couch furnished the sleeping
quarters In the same room. Though
the place was much crowded, every
thing WAS kept as neat as a pin.
The man was nearing his four score
and ter. The girl was a few days
past fifteen. She bore refined air in
spite OF her surroundings Her cloth.
Ing was of the cheapest kind. yet II
was clean. Her garments were not
made In the latest style, still they were
neat. Her hands and feet were small
though the former showed the marks
OF toll. Her eyes were older than
those OF most girls OF fifteen, but they
we're no less beautiful. They looked
deep into things with an intelligence
and innocence that commanded re-
spect.
"Yes, Sankala, | told You | would
tell you some but not all. The Seadogs
do not like us. They do not know
why, but there is an intuition that
tells them we are dangerous to their
welfare. Those letters You have
brought me from tho postotlice all
these years are bringing to consum.
nation the plans which have so long
occupied my time. II has been a
long and tedious duty but 1t shall he
performed ere the last spark shall leave
me.
"Sankala, you have been told the
story OF the shipwreck by the old
women time and again. have seldom
spoken OF it. II Ia a link In the story
OF your life that Ia of the greatest i'm
poItance to you.
IL am the emily person living that
knows you. am the only person
living that knows the facts which shall
some day make you tree from poverty.
Which shall enable you to live the life
that you deserve--will enable you to
complete your education and to out
shine Hazel Seadog and all of the Sea.
dog family.
"They are sailing under false
plumes, Sankala, they are sailing un'
der false plumes. They are wearing
that which Of right belongs to others.
"Sankala, l have always passed al
your father. / love you better than I
father ever loved his child. The ide,
prevails among the fisherman that only
your mother was drowned and that
your aged fathes, who had taken
young wife at the age Of three score ant
ten had clutched you in my aims a
the last moment and that fate had cas-
ne ashore.
1--WE we're cast ashore together, II 1
true, you q 6ve-weeks old babe in m!
arms, but your mother and father boil
went down to q watery grave"
''But You are my father now" brok
In Sankala. 81 love you as my fathe
and shall always love you as SUCH
'That Is true, my child, that is true
but your real father is dead. II is thi
shat places heavy responsibility upol
you and me. Your father was mucl
wronsed aud II is left to you and m,
to right the wrong. Should | cOntinu,
to live, Sankala, l will right tn,
= n I..A.. III