Greene County herald. (Leakesville, Miss.) 1898-current, 1907-04-26
'TWIXT ICE AND SEA
Told by FREDERICK MARTIN and Set
Down by J. MAYNE BAL TIM0RE.
Frederick Martin is a fisherman of


any means of making fire. He
thought about 1t later, but merely
said to himself, ooh, well, l shall be
gone only few hours. I'll just go
around the land corner, and be back
In time for my dinner"
So away he pulled to look for cod
fish. It was several miles to the
land corner''-the high point that
jutted sharply out into the sea, but
the water was quite smooth and the
fisherman made good progress.
Scarcely, however. had Martin
rounded the abrupt point. when ire
mendous gale sprang up from the
northwest, scourging the hungry seas
into foaming fury and hurting the
dory this way and that like a mere
chip.
Not a ghost of chance was left
Martin to return to camp in the teeth
of the gale; he was compelled to run
for such shelter or landing place as
the fierce winds and fearful seas per-
mitted.
Just ahead of him he sighted a
narrow bay or inlet. 81 will run for
that and get ashore" Martin NUT
tered, through his clenched teeth. No
sooner said than done; the thing was
simple enough. He knew he was not
five miles from camp. and he was sure
he could easily make his way back
overland.
Presently the memorable thrust of
the raging sea cast him helpless upon
the beach of the little bay. Judge OF
Martins CONSERVATION and horror,
however, when, on making a brief
exploration, he discovered that he
was shut up in veritable prison Of
ice, whose only gateway was the
hungry, devouring sea.
Backed by sheer cliffs rising 500
feet high, coated with narrow film
of ice, the narrow crescent of the
beach made a prison as hopeless as
the ancient Bastille, and further re-
moved from human aid or sympathy.
Martin saw at glance that he was
face to face with death-a slow, ling
gering, inch-by-inch death from cold.
Now, the strange thing is that this
man, reduced to the most desperate
straits, began gravely to record with
a stump of pencil, on fragments of
paper and strips of wood cut from
his dory. his sensations from hour to
hour.
Nothing was omitted in this terri
bic record Of his sufferings-his ex-
pedients, his despair, and his re-
course to devouring his raw fish-bait
for food, after two days starvation.
Then follow notes of his desperate
fight to keep the blood moving by
savagely beating his feet with the
handle of gaff-hook, his final perse-
verance, and his wonderful escape,
after hope had deserted him, by
climbing the ice-coated rocks.
Strange fancies often pursue man
In dire extremity. His record of fear
full sufferings and dangers during
those three terrible days seems to
have afforded Martin companionship
almost consolation.
Again and again the prisoner ex-
plored the beach and scanned the
towering cliffs for an avenue of es-
cape, but entirely without success.
Then he prepared to pass the night
as best he could.
Pulling the battered dory farther
up the beach he turned it over,
wrapped himself in a piece of old sail,
and crawisd under the miserable
shelter. 1t was bitter cold, the gale
was furious, and the sea tumultuous.
Martin dared not go to sleep, ven
with sleep were possible. He Apent
night full of indescribable suffering
and horrors, crouching on his hands
and knees, and cruelty beating him
self with the gaff-handle to prevent
himself freezing to death.
The horrors of that fearful night
were repeated next day. For two
days Martin had no food and no fire,
with the temperature ranging below
zero. His voice died in his throat,
he lost the power of speech, his mind,
it seemed, was giving way under the
awful strain.
The weary hours dragged along in
slow, horrible suspense. He must do
something to keep his mind from
madness, and accordingly he whitfield
chips of wood of his dory and wrote
messages, more or less incoherent,
that might be found after he was
dead. Some of the sentences he
scrubbed in pencil were: To-day,
If the wind don't change, is my last
day."
4Give my best regards to C.
Schmaiz.
"This is terrible place. I can't
get out
81 have to die in terrible suffering,
but when ! am gone shall be very
happy"
Maybe, would last a few days
longer, but have no food
Most of the entries in that remark
able diary ran like the above
broken, fragmentary, but terribly elo-
quent of the mans plight.
Still, in spite of his sufferings,
Martins indomitable spirit could not
be crushed. He had in his dory some
small fish-sculpins; these he vora-
ciously devoured raw. Then, in des-
peration, the man determined to try
to scale the beetling, ice-clad cliffs.
Escape seward was hopeless. The
storm still ragged with undated fury,
gale succeeded gale, and tremendous
seas broke continually on the beach.
Just about this time Martin was
missed at Eagle Harbor. It was
known at the camp that he had gone
fishing alone, and it was conjectured
that he had been suddenly oyertaken
by the gale. His companions deemed
his fate sealed. TO attempt to search
for him in such storm was fool
hardy-too hazardous even to think