Jackson County journal. (Sylva, N.C.) 19??-19??, 1919-11-14
CHAPTER II-Continued.
r

He walked on steadily, without
sense of fatigue, his mind abnormally
active. And then, with a little shock
of surprise, as the Malay made signs
to halt and set about kindling a fire,
he noticed for the first time that it
had grown almost dark.
And also, to his surprise, he noticed
that where he had experienced no
fatigue before, he was, as he sat down,
suddenly grateful for the rest.
He scowled a little over his dipper
of tea that the Malay had prepared
and rubbed his leg muscles vigorously.
They twitched nervously as he put his
weight upon his legs. That was bad!
His lips set grimly. Well, bad or not,
they'd have to take him across the
island before daybreak
They started on again.
An hour went by, and he was
obliged to rest-and after another
start and many more after that, to rest
again and again with alarming fire.
quency. And, worse still, his progress
when he was walking kept growing
less ana less.
1t was black in the tropical forest.
He could see nothing, and he STUN
bled constantly in the vines and creep
ers that everywhere evergreen the
path. He was at last forced to admit
that he was not making much more
than q, mile an hour, and twenty
miles at a mile an hour was-he
groaned.
1t was breaking day when Wallen
finally gave up-gave up when will
power, and the grit Of the man that
did not know defeat, no longer suf-
feed for the physical strength to GO
farther.
The Malay, regarding him anxious
~, offered by signs to carry him on
his back. Wallen, from where he had
flung himself down upon the ground,
half rose to accept the offer, then
shook his head. 1t was no use at
tempting that; it was too far.
He was bitterly convinced that he
had accomplished little more than
half the distance.
But there must be some way out.
He wasn't beaten yet. He had to
catch that steamer.
Suddenly he looked up.
Yes, of course. He had been fool
that he had not thought of it hours
ago when he had first begun to realize
that he was playing out, instead of it
now when it might be too late, when
the steamer might be already gone
He couldn't speak the Malay tongue,
but MacKnight would have told the
man why they were crossing the
island. He could send the Malay on
ahead, and follow himself as fast as
he could.
If he could write a message he
might even get them to send him helm
from Pobi
He felt in his pockets. Nothing
Well, the Malay was an intelligent fel.
low; he would get word to the ship
and written message after all
wouldn't make any difference-it all
depended on the ships skipper.
The skipper would wait, or he
wouldn't, after hearing the Malay's
story just as readily as he would fol
a written message. He began to make
signs, pointing to the other, then in
the direction Of Pobi, then to himself
and then to the ground, indicating
that he would stay behind.
"And y-quick-Pobi," Waller
ended anxiously.
The MALAY nodded
"Pobi quick" he repeated -an(
started off at run along the path.
Wallen watched the man disappear
and after a little while started OF
again himself-and then gave it u,
completely. He was down and ont
and he was furiously angry with him
self for the state he was in.
There wasn't anything to do bu
wait. He might make a mile befor
the Malay got back-but what goo,
was that mile!
One thing was certain. anv furthe
exertion would bring serious conse
quences, If the serious consequence
were not already an established fact
A tropical island was no health re
sort for fever-shot body, and a re
lapse of the slow fever that had fol
lowed his recovery from yellow loo
would be-he put it pithily in hi
Mind now-good night to Singapor
and everything else.
ne might as well admit it to him