Tensas gazette. [volume] (St. Joseph, La.) 1886-current, 1911-09-29

the coast and the account of his
plight, together with the course which
the relief ship must take. should such
relief ship be sent out to have any
hope at all of reaching them.
I suppose" his narrative for this
day concluded, there is hardly one
chance in ten thousand that my mes
sage viii ever be picked UP, and GER
tainly not one In a million that II will
be found in time to bring an effective
relief. However. it helps to keep the
others cheerful. and that is the, main
At the close Of the days entry was
a single line which contracted her
heart with a sharp spasm Of pain.
This Is Jeanne's birthday" II said.
She resumed her reading presently,
and came to the point where the Wal
rus people entered into the narrative:
their plight, their rescue and their
welcome by the three men, who by
now were the only survivors of the
original expedition.
She was reading faster now, with
none of those little meditative pauses
that had marked her progress through
the earlier pages of the journal, for
the sinister termination Of the nara
tive began to foreshadow itself dark
ly, from the moment-the first mo-
ment of the appearance Of the Walrus
people on the scene. Her fathers de-
scription of the man Roscoe. of the
expression that had been plain to read
In his face as he had listened to the
account of the gold-bearing ledge
across the glacier. gave her a shudder-
ing premonition: apparently, her ia
Their had experienced the same feeling
himself. Day after day Roscoe's name
appeared. always accompanied by
some little phase OF misgivipg.
For just one day this dread seemed
to have been lifted from Captain Field
ing's spirit That was the day the sun
came back to them. putting an end to
their long arctic night. 1T has been
hard winter" he wrote, land / am
glad 1t Is over. The hardest thing
about It has been our, sleeplessness,
from which we have all suffered. To
day we have enjoyed change, having
taken a walk along the beach. Even
Roscoe seems humanized a little by
return of the frank sunshine, and may,
perhaps. develop into tolerable COM
panion. Tomorrow I have promised.
II 1t Is fine. to guide them across the
glacier to the gold ledge"
I; was the next to the last entry In
the Journal She turned the page,
paled and pressed her lips tight to-
gether when the array of blank pages
before her told her that she had
reached the end. Then she read the
last words her father had ever writ
ten.
Took the walrus people to the
ledge today. Have no heart to de-
scribe the scene that they enacted
there. The man Roscoe certainly
means to kill me. II 1t were not for
my conviction that the danger from
him is largely personal to myself. that
he means me and no other, probably,
for his victim, / think / should have
him shot as a measure Of justifiable
prevention. He is not a man. but a
great sinister brute-literally sinister,
for he is left-handed. I shall walk
warily. and hope the crisis may soon
be over" Evidently that part of his
wish had come true.
The book slipped out Of the girls
hands, and she sat, with horror-widen--
ed eyes, staring at the candle, until il
guttered and went out. Slowly, the
outside world began to take it's place
again around her. She knew that she
was shivering, baif-frozen, that the icy
wind was whining through the cracks
In her rude shelter.
She thought she heard some one
moving about outside. and that
thought brought her quickly to her
feet She made her way to the door
of the hut. called out; waited breath
less instant-and cried aloud in sud-
den terror.