The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913, 1909-01-24
Copyright. 1904 All rights reserved


than ever, in Russian America. the trail ceased
He sat in the snow, arms tied behind him, waiting
the torture He stared curiOusly before him at
huge Cossack prone in the snow, screaming in agony
The men had finished handling the giant and turned
him over TO the women. That they exceeded the
hendishness of the the mans frghtful yens at
tested.
Subienkow looked on and shuddered. He not
sfaid 10 die He had carried his life long in his
hands on that weary trail from Warsaw TO Nulato to
shudder at mere dying But he objected to the tor
ture Il offended his soul And this offense, in turn
was due 10 the mere pain he must endure but to
the sorry spectacle the pain would make OF him. He
knew he would yell and as Big Ivan was yell
ing and screaming He knew he would pray, and beg,
and entreat even Big Ivan and the Others that had
gone before This would not be nice To pass out
gravely and Clearly, with a smile and jest-ah that
would have been the way! But to lose control to
have his soul upset by the pangs of the Resh to
screech and gibber like ape, 10 become the verest
bsast-ah, that what terrible.
There had been no chance TO escape. From the
Beginning, when he dreamed the fiery dream Of Pc
lands independence, he had become puppet in the
hands of Fate. From the beginning Warsaw, at St
Petersburg, in the Siberian mines, in Kamchatka on
the crazy boats Of the fur thieves Fate had been drv
tag him to this end. Without doubt, in the founda-
lions of the world graved this end for him-for
him, who was so fine and sensitive, whose
scarcely sheltered under his skin, WHO Was
snd poet and an artist. Before he, as he,
dreamed Of it had been determined that the quvcring
bundle OF sensitveness that constituted him should be
doomed 70 live in and bowling savagery and to
die In this far land OF night this dark place beyond
the last boundaries of the world
He sighed So that thing before him. that thing
that screamed was Big Ivan-Big Ivan the giant the
man without nerves, the Of iron, the Cossack
turned freebooter of the seas, who phegmatic
as an OK, with nervous system so low that what
pain to ordinary scarcely tickle to him.
Well, well, trust these Nulato Indians to find Big
Ivsns and them to the roots of his quv
ering soul They were certainly doing it Listen to
that yell more hideously awful than any that had
gone before ripped and through Subenkows
consciousness. It fearful it uncomfortable,
that could suffer much and yet live Big
Ivan paying for his low order OF Already
he had lasted twice long any of the Others and
still his great lungs shrieked his agony
Subienkow felt that he could not stand the Cos
sacks suferings much longer. Why didn't Ivan dies
He would go mad if that screaming did not cease.
But when it did cease his turn would come. He Ru-
dolph Subienkow would have his nails torn out by
the roots his finger ends sliced off In strips thin
strips, section at a time, his - He almost
shrieked himself at thought of the horrors awaiting
him And there Yakaga awaiting him, too, grin
ming at him in anticipaton-Yakag whom
only last week he had kicked out of the fort and upon
whose face be had laid the lash of his dog-whip,
Yalsgz would attend to him. Doubtessly Yakaga
was saving for him refined tortures,
Quiste nerve rackng. Ali that must have been a
good one, from the way Ivan screamed The squaws
bending over him stepped back with laughter and
clapping Of hands Subienkow the monstrous
thing that had been perpetrated and began 70 laugh
hystereslly. The Indians looked at him In wonder
that he should laugh But Subienhow could not
STOP
40 r. IL Al.
spasmodic twitchlngs slowly dying away. He strove
think Of other things, and began reading back in
his own life He remembered his mother and his
father and the little spotted pony. and the French
tutor who had taught him dancing and sneaked him
an old worn copy of VoItaire. Ones more be saw
Paris, and -dreary London and gay Vienna, and
Rome And once more he saw that wild group of
youths who had dreamed even as he, the dream of
Independent Poland. with q king of Poland the
throne at Warsaw. All, there 1t that the long
trail began Well, he had lasted longest One by
one. beginning with the two executed at ST Peters
burg, he took up the of the passing of those
brave spirits Here, had been beaten death by
jsiler, and there, that blood stained highway of
the eziles, where they had marched for endless
months. beaten and maitreASed by their Cossaek,
guards, another had dropped by the way Always 1t
had been savasery-brutal. bestial savasery. They
had died-dear God, how they had dledi-of fever In
the mines, under the knout. The last two had died
after the escape In the battle with the Cossacs and
he alone had won to Kamchatin with the stolen
papers and the money of traveller be had left lying
IN the snow.
II had been nothing but savagcry. All the years,
with his heart In studios and theaters and courts he
had been heunmed in by ssvagery. He had purchased
his life with blood. Everybody had killed He had
killed that traveller for his passports He had proved
that he of parts by duelling with two Rus
sian officers in single day. He had had to prove
himself in order to win place among the fur thieves
lie had had TO win that place Behind him lay the
thousand years long road all Siberia and Rus
sia. He could not escape that way The only way
was ahead, across the dark and icy sea of Boring
LII .d =