Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1940-09-15

she kept herself beyond his line of vision. He
still refused to make his search for her an
open one but he prolonged his stroll along
the shore line until he rounded the southern
sweep of the island On the shore slope of
wooded inlet he stumbled on something that
brought him up short. 1t was two SUM-
bleached blow-downs of tamarack, lying side
by side. They had, plainly enough, been
dragged from the hillside to the waters edge,
where they had been crudely bound together
with thongs torn from blanket. They were
meant, he could see, for his wifes vessel of
deliverance
He peered along the slopes for some sign of
life. But he could see none. So, after moment
of thought he pushed the twin logs into the
water and tested their buoyancy.
As he suspected, they failed to hold him
up. To attempt to ride them across an open
lake. even with Wandas lighter weight, would
be suicidal. And even though by some miracle
she survived the trip, it would be equally
suicidal to land, alone and helpless, on an
unmapped wilderness, where she would lose
herself before nightfall.
Still again, he stood thoughtful. Then he
pushed the two tamaraCk boles out into the
lake. where they f1oated and wheeled and
slowly drifted away in the offshore breeze
0Ur there were other boles along those
rocky hills, boles which, when assembled and
bound together, might make a more CON-
modious raft. His first business in life, he
could see, was to put stop to such foolish
ness He didn't want drowned woman on his
hands. Nor did he want to have found, later
on, a rusted axe blade and little pile of bones
somewhere along those mainland hills. Before
he'd let her face such risks he d call everything
off, resurrect the canoe and carry her back
to the world she was 50 hungry for.
At that moment he heard sound from the
hill behind him. He retreated into thicket,
from which, unseen, he could quietly study
the wooded slope.
The movement along that slope, he could
see, was caused by Wanda. She was slowly
and laboriously dragging bleached spruce
log towards the waters edge. Her hair was
wild and her face was wet But she tugged
and pulled at the heavy timber until it lay
on the shore. He could see her stare of bewil-
derment when she found the other logs were
not in their appointed place. AS she stood,
blinking out over the lake, he strobe to her
side
Her body stiffened. What did you do with
my logs?" she demanded.
Just what, he countered, did you intend
doing with them?"
Il intend to get away from this island!'
Why" he questioned.
She bathed him in look of loathing.
Because it not big enough for me and
raving maniac.
Fillmore smiled at that Any admiration
he had for her spirit was qualified by the con-
viction that it occasionally cut her off from
reason. I'm not sure which one of us falls
under that head" he observed You seem
to be trying to make raft. But where would
it take YOU"
of this rotten island"
But you'd only drown yourself Even if
you did land in that empty country. you'd
be lost - completely - inside of two hours"
I'm take my chance on that
You hate me that much?" he asked
Who Wouldn't" was her embittered cry.
You - you ought to be ashamed of yourself,
trying to trap me in place like this
I'm more ashamed of how you're acting"
For, plainly enough, it was madness for a
woman like that to imagine she could live
alone in the Omen Cut off from his s,,DDlies