The Tupelo journal. (Tupelo, Miss.) 1876-1924, 1912-01-26
CHAPT II.
The Girl on the Ice FIoe.

She stood there on the noe CONFRONT
ing him. not ten feet away, and at
sight of her Philip Cayley's eyes
widened. What in the world" he
gasped. Then stared at her speech
less.
She was clad, down to the knees IN
see the tops of her small fur-trimmed
boots. Upon her head she wore
little turban-like cap of seal. The
smartly tailored lines of the coat en-
phasized her young slenderness. Her
bootmaker must have had reputa-
ton upon some metropolitan boule-
ward, and her head-gear came clearly
under the category of what is known
as modes. Her eyes were very blue
and her hair was golden, warmed, he
thought, as she stood there In the
orange twilight, with CLINT of red.
Cayley gasped again, as he took IN
the details of this vision. Then col
lected himself II beg your pardon"
he stammered. II don't mean to be
rudely inquisitive, but what, In the
world, is a person like you doing in
this part Of it-that is. II you are real
ut all? This Is latitude rs, and no
photographer who ever lived has put
that coast-line yonder into his maps.
Yet here, in this nameless bay, ind
q yacht, and on this ice foe, In the
twilight, you"
She shook her head a little impa-
har AZ fA
clear them of a vision. "Of course"
she said, II know I've fallen asleep
and this is a dream of mine, but even
for a dream, aren't you q little I'M
reasonable? Yachts are natural
mode of conveyance across the ocean.
You find them in many bays-some-
times in nameless ones-and they al
ways have people on them. But you
you come wheeling down, out of 9
night sky, like some great nocturnal
bird, and alight here on the foe be-
side me. And then you change your
Self into man and look at me in sur
prise, and ask lie, in English, what
in the world I am doing here-I had
the yacht; and ask me If I'm real"
There was moment of silence aft
er that. Unconsciously they drew
little nearer together Then Cayley
spoke I'm real, at any rate he
said; "at least I'm tax payer, and
weigh 100 pounds, and I have a name
and address It's Philip Cayley, II
that will make me seem more natural,
and my headquarters this summer are
over on Point Barrow"
I'm not dreaming, them" she asked
obviously.
mo" he said; of either of us is
dreaming, it's not you. May l furl up
my wings and talk to you for awhile?"
Her eyes were on the broad-spread,
shimmering planes which lay on the
ice behind him. She seemed hardly
to have heard his question. though
she answered 1t with an almost voice
less Eyes" Then she approached,
half fearfully, the thing he called his
wings"
ut is made Of quite commonplace
materials" he said with smile
'split bamboo and carbon and catgut
and q fabric Of blaAders, cemented
with fsh glue And folding 1t up is
rather an ungainly job. The birds still
have the advantage OF me there. In
q strong wind it's not very easy to do
without damaging something. Would
you mind slipping that joint for me
that one right by your hand? It's just
like fishing rod"
She did as he asked, and her smile
convinced him that she had at least
ihalf-guessed his purpose in asking the
service of her. The next moment her
words confirmed 1t.
"You wanted me to make sure,
suppose, that it would not turn into
great roc when I touched it and fly
away with me to the Valley of Dia-
monds." She patted the furled wing
gently with both hands. II suppose,
she continued, lone could dream as
wildly as this, although l never have
unless, of course. this is dream
But" and now she held out her hand
to him, but l hope l am awake. And
my name is Jeanne Fielding"
He had the hand in his, and noticed
how live and strong and warm 1t was,
before she pronounced her name. At
the sound of 1t, he glanced at her curl
ously; but all he said just then was,
Thank you" and busted himself I'M
mediately with completing the process
OF furling his wings.
When he had finished, he tossed the
sheep-skin down in a little hollow in
the Zoe. and with gesture invited
her to be seated.
"Oh, I've a great pile Of bear skins
out here" she said. quite ridiculous
pile of them, considering it is not a
cold night; and we can make our
selves comfortable here, or 60 aboard
the yacht. just as you please"
They were seated side by side In
the little nest she had made for her
self. before he reverted to the idea
which had sprung up In his mind
upon hearing her name. There was
Captain Fielding once" he said
slowly "who set out from San Fran
cisco half dozen years ago, in the
hope of discovering the pole by the