Newark evening star and Newark advertiser., 1910-08-04
THE SKY-MAN va 49, s::s:" ~ ,s.ss. s:

Up to that moment she had not
realized what the finding Of the des-
patch box meant 1t had not occurred
to her that q full account of her
fathers expedition, a narrative which
would reach, perhaps, to the morning
Of the last day Of all. was lying here,
right under her eyes.
But now when the cover opened and
she saw beneath 1t a thick volume.
bound in red morocco, she realized
that here, under her hand. was the very
object In search Of which the Aurora
had set out upon her perilous voyage.
| With the first realization of what
the contents of that book must be, a
tragedy. and the central figure of 1t
her own father, the man she had loved
best in all the world, she found 1t al
most impossible to open the book She
took It out of the despatch box and
for a little while sat, dry-eyed, hug
ging the precious, poignant thing UP
tight against her breast.
But at last she put the despatch box
to one side. brought the candle nearer,
so that its light would serve to read
by, and began turning the pSges of the
book.
The first sight OF her fathers clear,
erect. precise handwriting warmed her
with sudden courage. He had not
set out upon his voyage of discovery
without weighing and expecting the
possibilities of failure and death. Well,
he had died. but he had not failed. He
had added q new coast line to the map
Of the world. And she knew, knew as
clearly as if his own spirit had stood
there beside her talking to her In his
| old. dearly remembered voice, that next
to coming home alive, bringing the
fruits of his discovery with him, his
last wish in the world must have been
that that should happen which had
happened now-that she, his daughter,
should hold that very book in her
hands and read the story, and know
that he had not died In vain.
But even this new inspiration of
courage did not make her strong
enough to turn back and read the last
entry in that tragic journal first She
tried to do it, but the will failed her
So she began at the beginning Once
she had plunged into the fascinating
narrative the whole of the outside
world faded away for her. She was
oblivious to the fact that the dark
ness outside was no longer the mere
| darkness of the fog: oblivious to the
rising wind that poured its icy stream
through the leaky walls of the hut
and made the candle flicker; oblivious,
even, to the very sound which she had
meant to wait for, the sound of Toms
voice calling out to her from the
yacht, and the sound of other, more
alarming, nearer voices.
They all fell on deaf ears as she
turned page after page of that precious
| record of her fathers life. 1t was writ
ten, in the main, in the scientific, OBJ
| servant, unimpassioned temper which
she knew so well. He chronicled those
days of peril. when their ship, crushed
in the ice. and only kept from sinking
by that very ice which had just des-
| troyed her. was drifting along in the
| pack, to what seemed certain destruc-
ton, as quietly and as explicitly as he
| did the uneventful voyage through
Behring Strait. The mans courage was
so deeply elemental in him that he
could not be self-conscious about 1t.
He told of the land, the strange, un-
chartered shore, whose discovery
offered them respite, at least, from
that destruction; told, how he got his
remaining stores ashore and built the
hut, where, in all human probability, he
and his companions were to spend the
rest of their lives.
Finally she reached the record Of the
day when he had consigned TO the sea
the bottle containing the chart of the
coast and the account of his plight. to-
gether with the course which the relief
ship must take, should such a relief
ship be sent out. to have any hope at
all of reaching them.
1T suppose" his narrative for this day
concluded, there is hardly cne chance
in ten thousand that my message win
ever be picked up. and certainly not one
in a million that II Will be found IN
time to bring an effective relief. How
ever. It helps 70 keep the others cheer