The San Francisco call., 1904-06-05

A an hour-the schooner was still
fast IN the grip OF the noe and
driving sou'west with the gale. The
light increased; II disclosed the faces Of
men TO men-frozen cheeks. steaming
mouths. boards weighted with icicles.
eyes hsring IN dark pits. It disclosed
the decks, where a litter OF gaffs and
clubs and ropes ends lay frozen In the
blood and fat OF slain seal. the grimy
deck house and galley, the wrecked
bowsprit. the abandoned wheel. the
rigging and spars all sheathed with
See: and, beyond. es II pushed it's way
into the uttermost shadows. the solid
shape OF Deadly Rock and the Blue
black shoal lying IN the path OF the
wind.
Does you see un. men?" said the
skipper.
They were seven old hands who had
gathered with the skipper by the wind
lass 10 wait for the morning. and they
had been on the watch the night long
big, thick-chested fellows. heavy with
muscles and bones-most with forbid
ding leathery faces, which were not
Unused, however. at other times, to the
play OF a fine simplicity-men Of knot
ty oak, with that look OF strength, from
the ground up, which some gnarled old
tree has: and they were all clothed in
skin boots and caps. and some coarse.
home made stuff, the last in a way so
thick and bulky that it made giants Of
them.
Does you see un-the Blueblack-
dead ahead?" the skipper bawled, for
the confusion Of ice and wind had over
whelmed his voice.
They followed the direction Of his
arm, from the tip Of his frozen mitt TO
the nearest shoal, dead ahead, where
the sea was grinding the ice TO slush.
Death confronted them, but they said
nothing. Yet they were not callous-
every man loved his life; each had a
fine regard for it's duties and delights
But the schooner was in the grip of
the pack, which the wind, not their
viii, controlled. There was nothing to
be done-no call upon strength or an
derstanding. Why talk? So they wait
ed TO see what the wind would do with
the pack.
Wei. men," the skipper drawled at
last, shell wreck. Seems that way Z
met do"
The shoal lay dead ahead in the path
OF the schooner's drift. In every part
OF il waves shook themselves free of
ice and leaped high into the wind-all
white and frothy against the sky.
which was Of the drear color Of lead.
Its tons were lifted and cast down
smashed-crunched; great pans were
turned to the finest fragments with
rocks stuck out OF the sea like iron
teeth. They were as nothing before
the momentum Of the pack-no him
drance TO its slow. heavy onrush. The
ice scraped over and between them.
and, with the help Of the waves, they
ground il UP in the passage. The shoal
was like some gigantic machine. It
was fed by the wind, which drove the
pack: 1t was big as the wind is big.
Massive chunks came through IN
slush.
Sure. men," said the skipper, "'tis
barbrOus hard L lose the schooner
barbrOus hard Z lose her" he bawled.
with a glance about and a shake of
the head.
He looked her over from stem to
stern-along her shapely rail, and aIoft.
over the detail Of her rigging. His
glance fingered here and there-lin-
gered wistfully. She was his life's
achievement; he had builded her.
'Iss, skipper. sir-sure it's" said
Saul Nash. He lurched TO the skip
per's side and put hand on his shoul-
der.
r" 'Twere a good wage, skipper" OF
Bill Anderson said, lifting has voice
above the noise OF the pack
'Twere a gran haul of the Grey
Islands-now. 'twere," said the skipper.
'Twere so good as ever 1 knowed
from a schooner said Anderson.
II hates L lose them pelts." said the
skipper. II DO hate Z lose them pelts' -
Never yet were I wrecked with
bloody decks" said Anderson, that I
didn't say twas a pity Z lose the car
90. Never, b'y-never! I says every
time, says i, twas a pity { lose the
pelts."
Just then Saurs young brother, John,
approached the group and stood TO
listen. He was a slight, brown-eyed
boy. having the flush Of health, true,
and a conspicuous grace, but dark eyes
instead Of blue ones. and small meas
ure OF the bone and hard flesh Of his
mates. Saul moved under the fore
mast shrouds and beckoned him over.
John, by" the man said, in a ten
der whisper, leaning over, keep along
side O. me when-when-Come," burst
ing into forced heartiness. there's a
good lad, now; keep alongside o. me-"
John caught his breath 'Iss, Saul, {"
he whispered. Then he had to moisten
his lips. ''Iss, ] WILL" he added, quite
steadily.
Joint" IN low, inspiring cry.
SAUL"
The swift upward glance-the quiv-
ering glance, darting from the depths,
which touched SauPs bold blue eyes for
a flash and shifted TO the dull sky
betrayed the boy again. He was one
Of those poor, dreamful folk who fear
the sea. Il may be that Saul loved him
for that-for that strange difference.
CLOSE alongside. John. by" Saul