The San Francisco call., 1904-06-05

cnue the fght-to meet the stress and
terrors Of the hours TO come; for it was
without quarter, this fight; there Is no
mercy in cold, nor is there any compass
sion in the great deep. Soon-it may
have been two hours after the assault
of the five great waves-the seas came
with new venom and might; they were
charged with broken ice, massed frag-
ments Of the pack. into which the wind
had driven the pan, or, 1t may be, with
the slush of pans which the Blueblack
ShOal had discharged. The ice added
weight and a new terror to the waves.
They bruised and daZed and sorely
hurt the man when they fell upon him.
No wave came but carried jagged
chunks Of ice-some great and some
small; and these they flung at the men
on the pan, needing only to strike here
or there to kill them
Saul shielded his head with his arms.
He was struck on the legs and on ths
left side. and once he was struck on
the left breast and knocked down
After a whue-it may have been an
hour after the fragments first appeared
in the water-he was struck fair on the
forehead; his senses Wavered, but his
strength continued sufficiently and
soon he forgot that he had so nearly
been fordone. Again, after a time-it
may now have beer three hours before
They broke over his head. They cast
their weight Of ice upon him There
seemed to be no end to their number.
Once, Saul, rising from where they
had beaten him-rising doggedIy to
face them again-found that his right
arm was powerless- He tried to lift 1t,
but could not. He felt a bone crate
over bone in his shoulder-and a stab
of pain. So he shielded his head from
the ice in the next wave with his left
armand from the ice In the next, and
in the next, and the next. -" The
wave had broken his collarbOne.
And thus. in diminishing degree, for
fifteen hours longer.
The folk OF Neighborly Cove say that
when the wind once more herded the
pack and drove II inshOre. Saul Nash.
being alone, made his way across four
miles of loose ice to the home OF Abra-
ham Coachman, in the lee OF Gods
Warning, Sop's Arm way, where they
had eOrnmeal for dinner; but Saul has
forgotten that-this and all else that
befell him after the sea struck him
that brutal blow on the shoulder; the
things Of the whirling night, OF the
tagging dawn, when the snow thinned
and ceased, and of the gray, frowning
day when the waves left him In peace.
A crooked shoulder, which healed OF
itself, and a broad scar. which slants
from the tip Of his nose far up into
his hair. tell him that the fight was
hard. But what MATERIAL this?
Notwithstanding all. when the next
sea baited it's trap with swarming
herds. he set forth with John, his
brother, to the hunt; for the world
which lies hidden in the wide beyond
has some strange need OF seal fat. and
stands ready to pay, as Of course. 1t
pays gold to the man at the counter
in st. Johns, and for what the world
pays a dollar the Outport warrior gets
a pound Of reeking pork.
But what matter? What matter
all this toll and peril? What matter
when the pork lies steaming on the
table and the yellow duff is in plenty
In the dish? What matter when. be-
holding IL. the blue eyes OF the lads
and little maids flash merrily? What
matter when the strength or a man
provides so bounteously that his chill
dren may pass their plates for more ?
What matter-when there comes a
night wherein a man may rest? What
matter--in the end? Ease is a shame;
and, for truth, old age holds nothing
for any man save a seat in a corner
and the sound OF voices drifting in.