Los Angeles herald., 1906-03-18
. Blown Out to Sea ia

Taking brand from his fire, he approached
the wall. Judge of the strange feelings which
filled his heart when he read, carved In the
soft, crumbly coral, the following verslfica-
ton:
washed off from deck in typhoon,
The vessels name was Kaspar Kloon,
a Danish brig to Frisco bound.
The second mate-they thought me
But l unto a grating clung,
Till on this island ] was flung.
Ii here l never come again,
Whoe'er may come and here remain,
| give them all secret hoard,
Which, not far off, is hid and stored:
But none shall find the store unless
The secret of these lines theyguess;
Come from the gate that's never closed,
Until you see old bald heads nose
A. G. 1856.
The date was that of ten years before, and
Fred read the lines over and over again, In
sort of stupid amazement, until they, were
fixed lndeibly on his memory;. but what to
make of them he could not imagine.
One thing was certain; some European had
been on the island before him, and evidently
had meant to come back for the secret
hoard" Whether he had or not, was another
question.
Oh, how eagerly Fred watched day after day
for it to clear up! but, as he has since said,
the very effort of puzzling over those rude lines
in the meantime gave him something to think
about, and 1 once heard him say that he was
not sure he would not have gone crazy with
the solitude and all, only for having this rhyme
to puzzle over.
But at last the rain ceased, and the sun
once more sbone out over the drenched
island so that Fred could venture forth again
But he no longer thought Of fitting out
the proa to leave the island at once, as he
had intended, before reading the mysterious
message.
"I'm going to have hunt for A. C.'s hid
den hoard" he said.
And hunt he did, sure enough, but all to no
purpose
Once he thought he had fathomed the mys,
terry, as he stood thoughtfully on the rounded
top of his cavern home, looking out to sea IN
search of some friendly sail.
For, as he noticed the singular entrance to
the lagoon between the coral lodges, it struck
him that there was "a gate that's never clos
ed" indeed.
"And what is this under my feet" he said,
as a sudden thought struck him, but bald
headT
For the curious little promontory was as
much in shape like the upper half OF human
head as could be imagined.
Full of this new idea, he pushed the proa
off across the lagoon to the entrance. Then,
padding directly toward the promontary, he
saw, as he came within few rods of it, that
there was sort of rocky, protuberance, not
noticeable at distance, WHICH iniehU pass ioi
nose.
''The hoard is sunk hereabouts," said Fred,
peering over the proa's side.
But, though he padded and hoated and
drifted, no signs of an iron chest or Golfer
such as he fancied might have been sunk
were visible in the clear water.
There were shells and sponges and strange
marine plants, and in one place was great
mass of shelly substances, extending over con
siderable space, but no sign whatever OF sunk
en- treasure, and Fred began to fear that he
might have been the victim OF some Alexander
Selkirk's practical joke.
So finally he gave up his search, though very
reluctantly, and again began his preparations
for leaving the island.
"And if had done it a week ago" said Fred,
rerretfully, "instead of wasting my time hunt
ing for what don't believe exists, should
have been better off ,
Which shows how little we know how
strangely our lives are ordered. Fred Mason
might have started out the week before, it is
true but, if he had, he would have been sorry
the matter over. rather guess it will be better
to let my story tell itself, and not try to get
ahead of it.
Fred managed to secure two or three tur-
ties, and having cut the flesh into strips, dried
it on the rocks
1t wasn't particularly nice, fancy, by his
description. He said it tasted a little like
burnt shoe leather and rancid sweet oil; but
the Robinson Crusoes have always considered
il an important part of their diet