The Roswell daily record. [volume] (Roswell, N.M.) 1903-current, 1907-10-24

dredS until the marines drove them
back with muskets and fired at their
own comrades, who, In their madness,
leaped after them into the water. She
had lain for weeks in enormous atolls,
where the only life was that of birds
and the silence was unbroken save for
the long roll of he surf and at night
the ghostly scurrying of turtles over
the sand. She had been everywhere in
those l~abyrinthian seas, those haunts
of romance and mystery, with love,
danger and death always close aboard.
1t was morning when Hadow raised
the island, a feecy speck of cloud
against the sky line, and he shortened
sail at nee and fingered out the day
SO as to bring him up to it by dark.
After supper every light on board was
doused, and the great hull, gliding
through the glass smooth water, merg-
ed her steep ides and towering yards
and canvas into the universal shadow
With whispering keel and a wind so
fair and soft hat one wondered to
see the sails stiffen in he bolt ropes,
the man-of-war stole steadily to lee
ward, with no sound but the occa-
sional creak of cordage or the hoarse
murmur of voices from the lower deck.
By 10 the ship was hove to close
ashore, and the lights of the little set
tlement glimmered through the palms.
The warm night, laden with exotic
fragrance and strangely exciting in the
intensity of its stiffness and beauty,
hid beneath its far reaching pail the
various actors of N extraordinary
drama. With pistols buckled to their
hips, Brady, Winterslea, Hotham and
Stanbury-Jones, four officers of the
ship, together with Hatch, a finty
faced old seaman who could be trusted.
all slipped down the ladder into the
captains gig and pulled with muff1ed
oars for the break in the reef. Picking
their way through the pass, with the
surf on either hand roaring in heir
ears, they slowly penetrated the lagoon
and headed for the kings house. The
shelving beach brought them to a stop,
and all jumping out to tighten the boat
they drew her over the Shingle and
made her painter fast to a %pandanus
tree. Then, acting in accordance with
a preconcerted plan, Winterslea was
sent forward to track down their prey,
while the rest uddled together to
await his return.
Ten minutes, twenty minutes, pass
ed in palpitating suspense. a girl drew
by wreathed in flowers. She looked
out to sea, then up at the stars and
shrank again into the shadow. From
the neighboring houses there came the
sound of mellow voices and of laugh
ter. A pig rooted and rustled among
a heap of cocoanut shells. Half an
hour passed, and from far across the
water, as faint and silvery as some
elfn signal, the ship sent her message
of the time-SiX bells.
Painting and crouching, Winterslea
CROPPED his way among them.
"Comer" he said.
They followed him in silence, IN
loosing their holsters and grimly ready.
A pair of handouts cIinked in Hatch's
jumper.
Winterslea, with keen perception, led
the way like a hound, skirting lighted
houses and following devious inland
paths. The comparative >openness of
the village began to give way to the
ranker underground of the plantations
behind it. The path sank into a chok-
ing vegetation that stood on either
side and brushed their faces as they
followed in single file. a fallen tree
gave them the passage of a stream.
"There!" said Winterslea.
The path opened out on a little clear
ing among the trees and showed them,
set on high, he outlines of a native
house. Like all Tahitian houses, it
was on the model of a bird cage, and
the oval wall of bamboo, set side by
side, let through vertical streaks of
light from the lamp or fire within.
AS the whole party drew nearer they
heard, deep below them On the other
side, the pleasant sound of falling wa
ter and realized that the cliff they
were mounting overlooked a little riv-
er at its foot. Here in exquisite Sc
clusion Jack Garrard had chosen the
spot for his moral suicide.
Creeping up to the house and look
ing through the cracks of the bam-
booS, his. comrades saw him sitting
within, dressed like a native in tapa
cloth, with bare chest and flowers in
his tawny hair. He was sitting in a
hammock, and with her head against
his knee a beautiful girl was looking
up into his face, one and locked in
his.
In that land of pretty women she
was the one hat outshone them all
Tehea, the sister of the king, for whose
sweet favor every man on board had
sought in vain. And here she was,
with her long hair looSened and her
eyes swimming WITH love- looking up
at the lad who had given name and
honor to win her heart. The pair were
hardly more than children, and Brady,
a sentimentalist of forty. with red hair.
sighed as he peeped throu~h the caves
and thought of his own dear girl at
home.
Garrard laid down the pipe he had
been smoking and in happy uncon-
sciousness of any audience but the wo-
man at his feet began to sing. His
voice had always been his greatest
charm and the mean of gaining him
the friendship of men much older than
himself. 1t had won Hadow. 1t had
won Francis. There was not a blue
jacket on board the Dauntless but
whose eyes had moistened under the
spell OF Jacks clear tenor. No one
could render with such delieacy, puri-
ty and sentiment those ballads, now
so old fashioned. that used TO solace