Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1910-07-18

narrative which would reach. perhaps. to
the morning OF the last day Of all, was
lying hero right under her eyes.
But now when the cover opened and
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, q tragedy,
and the central figure of it her own
father. the man she had loved best in all
the world, she found 1t almost impossible
to open the book. She took it out Of the
dispatch box and for little while sat,
dry-eyed, hugging the precious. poignant
But at last she put the dispatch box to
one side. brought the candle nearer. SO
that its light would serve to read by, and
began turning the pages 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 a
new coast line to the map of the world.
own spirit had stood there beside her
talking to her in his old. dearly remem-
bered voice. that next to coming home
alive. bringing the fruits of his discovery
With HIS laSL WISH III the WOTfO
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 cour-
age did not make her strong enough to
turn back, and read the last entry in that
tragic journal first. She tried to do 1t,
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
darkness outside was no longer the mere
darkness OF the fog; Oblivious to the ris-
Ing 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, near
or voices
They all fell on deaf ears as she turned
page after page OF that precious record
of her fathers life. 1t was written, in
the MAN, in the scientific, observant, un-
imprisoned temper which she knew so
we'll. 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 destroyed her. was drift
Ing along in the pack, to what seemed
certain destruction, as quietly and as ex-
plicitly as he did the uneventful voyage
through Boring strait. The mans cour-
age was so deeply elemental in him that
he could not be self-conscious about it.
He told OF the land, the strange. UNI
charted shore. whose discovery offered
them q respite, at least. from that de-
structiop: told how he got his remain
ing stores ashore and built the hut,
where. n al human probability. he and
his companjons were to spend the rest
Of their sfives
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 relief ship
he- sent. out. to have any hope at all OF