Jasper County Democrat, Volume 7, Number 49, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 11 March 1905 — The Wings of the Morning [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Wings of the Morning

By LOUIS TRACY

This discovery stirred him to action. He turned to survey the land on which he was stranded with his helpless companion. To his great relief he discovered that it was lofty and tree clad. He knew that the ship could not have drifted to Borneo, which still lay far to the south. This must be one of the hundreds of islands which stud the China sea and provide resorts for Hainan fishermen. Probably it was inhabited, though he thought it strange that none of the islanders had put in an appearance. In any event water and food of some sort were assured. But before setting out upon his quest two things demanded attention. The girl must be removed from her present position. It would be too horrible to permit her first conscious gaze to rest upon those crumpled objects on the beach. Common humanity demanded, too, that lie should hastily examine each of the bodies in case life was not wholly extinct. So he bent over the girl, noting with sudden wonder that, weak as she was, she had managed to refasten part of her bodice. “You must permit me to carry you a little farther inland,” he explained gently. Without another word he lifted her in his arms, marveling somewhat at the strength which came of necessity, and bore her some little distance until a sturdy rock jutting out of the sand offered shelter from the wind and protection from the sea and Its revelations. “I am so cold and tired,” murmured Iris. “Is there any water? My throat hurts me.” He pressed back the tangled hair from her forehead as he might soothe a child. “Try to lie still for a very few minutes,” he said. “You have not long to suffer. I will return immediately." His own throat and palate were on fire owing to the brine, hut he first hurried hack to the edge of the lagoon. There were fourteen bodies in all, three women and eleven men, four of the latter being Lascars. The women were saloon passengers whom he did not know. One of the men was the surgeon, another the first officer, a third Sir John Tozer. The rest were passengers and members of the crew. They were all dead; some had been peacefully drowned, others were fearfully mangled by the rocks. Two of the Lascars, bearing signs of dreadful injuries, were lying on a cluster of low rocks overhanging the water. The remainder rested on the sand. The sailor exhibited no visible emotion while he conducted ills sad scrutiny. When he was assured that this silent company was beyond mortal help he at once strode away toward the nearest belt of trees. He could not tell how long the search for water might be protracted, and there was pressing need for it.

When he reached the first clump of brushwood he uttered a delighted exclamation. There, growing In prodigal luxuriance, was the beneficent pitcher plant, whose large curled up leaf, shaped like a teacup, not only holds a lasting quantity of rain water, but mixes therewith its own palatable and natural juices. With his knife he seveied two of the leaves and hastened to Iris with the precious beverage. She beard him and managed to raise herself on an elbow. The poor girl’s eyes glistened at the prospect of relief. Without a word of questiou or surprise she swallowed the contents of both leaves. Then she found utterance. “How odd it tastes. What is it?” she inquired. But the eagerness with which she quenched her thirst renewed his own momentarily forgotten torture. His tongue seemed to swell. He was absolutely unable to reply. The water revived Iris like a magic draft. Her quick in'tuitlon told her what had happened. “You have had none yourself!” she cried. “Go at once and get some! And please bring me some more!” He required no second bidding. After hastily gulping down the contents of several leaves he returned with a further supply. Iris was now sitting up. The sun had burst royally through the clouds, and her chilled limbs were gaining some degree of warmth and elasticity. “Wbat Is it?” she repeated after another delicious draft “The leaf of the pitcher plant. Nature Is not always cruel. In an unusually generous mood she devised this method of storing water.” Miss Deane reached out her hand for more. Her troubled brain refused to wonder at such a reply from an ordinary seaman. The sailor deliberately spilled the contents of a remaining leaf on the sand. “No, madam,” he said, with an odd mixture of deference and firmness. “No more at present. I must first procure you some food.” » She looked up at him in momentary silence. “The ship is lost?” she said after a pause. “Yes, madam.” "Are we the only people saved?” "I fear so.” "Is this a desert lsisnd?" “I think not, madam. It pay by

chance he temporarily uninhabited, but fishermen from China come to all these places. I have seen no other living beings except ourselves. Nevertheless the islanders may live on the south side.” “It surely cannot be possible that the Sirdar has gone to pieces—a magnificent vessel of her size and strength?” He answered quietly; “It Is too true, madam. I suppose you hardly knew she struck, it happened so suddenly. Afterward, fortunately for you, you were unconscious.” “How do you know?” she inquired quickly. A flood of vivid recollection was pouring in upon her. “I—er—well, I happened to be near you, madam, when the ship broke up, and we—er—drifted ashore together.” She rose and faced him. “I remember now,” she cried hysterically. “You caught me as I was thrown into the corridor. We fell into the sea when the vessel turned over. Y'ou have saved my life. Were it not for you I could not possibly have escaped.” She gazed at him more earnestly, seeing that he blushed beneath the crust of salt and sand that covered his face. “Why,” she went on, with growing excitement, “you are the steward I noticed in the saloon yesterday. How is it that you are now dressed as a sailor?” He answered readily enough. “There was an accident on board during the gale, madam. I am a fair sailor, but a poor steward, so I applied for a transfer. As the crew was short handed, my offer was accepted.” Iris was now looking at him intently. “You saved my life,” she repeated slowly. It seemed that this obvious fact needed to be Indelibly established in her mind. Indeed the girl was overwrought by all that she had gone through. Only by degrees were her thoughts marshaling themselves with lucid coherence. As yet she recalled so many dramatic incidents that they failed to assume due proportion. But quickly there came memories of Captain Ross, of Sir John and Lady Tozer, of the doctor, her maid, the hundred and one individualities of her pleasant life aboard ship. Could it be that they were all dead? The notion was monstrous. But its ghastly significance was instantly borne in upon her by the plight in which she stood. Her lips quivered; the tears trembled in her eyes. “Is it really true that all the ship's company except ourselves are lost?” she brokenly demanded. The sailor’s gravely earnest glance fell before hers. “Unhappily there is no room for doubt,” he said. “Are you quite, quite sure?” “1 am sure —of some.” Involuntarily be turned seaward. She understood him. She sank to her knees, covered her face with her hands and broke into a passion of weeping. With a look of infinite pity he stooped and would have touched her shoulder, but he suddenly restrained the impulse. Something had hardened this man. It cost him an effort to be callous, but he succeeded. His mouth tightened, and his expression lost its tenderness.

“ Come, come, my dear lady,” he exclaimed, and there was a tinge of studied roughness in his voice, “you must calm yourself. It is the fortune of shipwreck as well as of war, you know. We are alive and must look after ourselves. Those who have gone are beyond our help.” “But not beyond our sympathy," wailed Iris, uncovering her swimming eyes for a fleeting look at him. Even in the utter desolation of the moment she could not help marveling that this queer mannered sailor, who spoke like a gentleman and tried to pose as her inferior, who had rescued her with the utmost gallantry, who carried his quixotic zeal to the point of first supplying her needs when he was in far worse case himself, should be so utterly indifferent to the fate of others. He waited silently until her sobs ceased. “Now, madam,” he said, “it is essential that we should obtain some food. I don’t wish to leave yon alonemintil we are better acquainted with our whereabouts. Can you walk a little way toward the trees, or shall I assist you ?” Iris immediately stood up. She pressed her hair hack defiantly. “Certainly I can walk,” she answered. “What do you propose to do?” “Well, madam”— “What is your name?” she interrupted imperiously. “Jenks, madam. Robert Jenks.” “Thank you. , Now listen, Mr. Robert Jenks. My name is Miss Iris Deane. On board ship I was a passenger and you were a steward—that is, until you became a seaman. Here we are equals in misfortune, but in all else you are the leader. I am quite useless. I can only help In matters by your direction. so I do not wish to be addressed as ‘madam’ in every breath. Do you understand me?” “As you wish. Miss Deane.” he said. “The fact remains that I have many things to attend to, and we really must eat something.” “What can we eat?” “Let_ us find out.” he replied, scan-

ning the nearest trees with' keen scrutiny. They plodded together through the sand in silence. Physically they were a superb couple, but in raiment they resembled scarecrows. Both, of course, were bareheaded. The sailor’s jersey and trousers were old and torn, and the sea water still soughed loudly In his heavy boots with each step. But Iris was in a deplorable plight. Her hair fell in a great wave of gold-

en brown strands over her neck and shoulders. Every hairpin had vanished, but with a few dexterous twists she coiled the flying tresses into a loose knot. Her beautiful muslin dress was rent and draggled. It was drying rapidly under the ever increasing power of the sun, and she surreptitiously endeavored to complete the fastening of the open portion about her neck. Suddenly he gave a glad shout. “By Jove, Miss Deane, we are in luck’s way! There is a fine plantain tree.” The pangs of hunger could not be resisted. Although the fruit was hardly ripe, they tore at the great bunches and ate ravenously. Iris made no pretense in the matter, and the sailor was in worse plight, for he had been on duty eontimiously since 4 o'clock the previous afternoon. At last their appetite was somewhat appeased, though plantains might not appeal to a gourmand as the solitary joint. “Now.” decided Jenks, “you must rest here a little while, Miss Deane. I’m going hack to the beach. You need not he afraid. There are no animals to harm you, and I will not he far away.” “What are you going to do on the beach V” she demanded. “To rescue stores, for the most part.” “May I not come with you. I can ho of some little service surely?” He answered slowly; “Please oblige me by remaining here at present. In less than an hour I will return, and then perhaps you will find plenty to do." She read his meaning intuitively and shivered. “1 coulcf not do that,” she murmured. “I would faint. While you are away I will pray for them, my unfortunate friends.” As lie passed from her side he heard her sobbing quietly. When he reached the lagoon he halted suddenly. Something startled him. He was quite certain that he had counted fourteen corpses. Now there Were only twelve. The two Lascars’ bodies which rested on the small group of rocks on the verge of the lagoon had vanished. Where had they gone? CHAPTER 111. T r ™“' HE sailor wasted no time in idle bewilderment. He searched carefully for traces of the missing Lascars. He came to the conclusion that the bodies had been diagged from off the sun dried rocks into the lagoon by some agency the nature of which he could not even conjecture. They were lying many feet above the sea level when he last saw them, little more than half an hour earlier. At that point the beach shelved rapidly. He could look far into the depths of the rapidly clearing water. Nothing was visible there save several varieties of small fish. The incident puzzled and annoyed him. Still thinking about it, he sat down on the highest rock and pulled off his heavy boots to empty the water out. He also divested himself of his stockings and spread them out to dry. The action reminded him of Miss Deane's necessities. He hurried to a point whence he could call out to her and recommend her to dry some of her clothing during his absence. He retired even more quickly, fearing lest he should be seen. Iris had already displayed to the sunlight a large portion of her costume. Without further delay he set about a disagreeable but necessary task. From the pockets of the first officer and doctor he secured two revolvers and a Bupply of cartridges, evidently intended to settle any dispute which ml|;ht have arisen between the ship’s officers and the native members of the crew. He hoped the cartridges were uninjured, but he could not test them at the moment for fear of alarming Miss Deane. Both officers carried pocketbooks and pencils. In one of these, containing dry leaves, the sailor made a careful inventory of the money and other valuable effects he fonnd upon the dead.

besides noting names and documents where possible. Curiously enough, the capitalist of this island morgue was a Lascar, who in a belt around his waist hoarded more than a hundred pounds in gold. The sailor tied In a handkerchief all the money he collected and ranged pocketbooks, letters and Jewelry In separate little heaps. Then ha stripped the men of their boots and outer clothing. He could not tell how long the girl and he might be detained on the island before help came, and fresh garments were essential. It would be foolish sentimentality to trust to stores thrown ashore from the ship. Nevertheless when it became necessary to search and disrobe the women he almost broke down. For an instant •he softened. Gulping hack his* emotions with a savage imprecation, he doggedly persevered. At last he paused to consider what should be done with the bodies. Ills first intent was to scoop a large hole In the sand with a piece of timber, but when he took into consideration the magnitude of the labor Involved, requiring many hours of hard work and a waste of precious time which might be of infinite value to his helpless companion and himself, he was forced to abandon the project It was not only impracticable, but dangerous. Again he had to set his teeth with grim resolution. One by one the bodies were shot into the lagoon from the little quay of rock. He knew they would not be seen again.. [to be continued.] The people of this county are now offered a Chicago daily for Si a year. The Chicago Daily Review is sent to subscribers for Si a year, 75 cents for six months, 50 cents for three months, and stopped when the time is out. The Daily Review is a delightful family daily with'all the news of the day condensed into four bages, hence the low price. It is printed in large clear type, easily read by young and old, and publishes a brilliant magazine feature by a popular author every day, besides much good poetly and interesting departments devoted to science and invention, art, literature, music, education, hygiene, home management, fashions, humor, sports and recreations, travels, matters of interest to women and children, etc. It is a clean family paper and admits nothing to its reading or advertising columns that cannot be read aloud in the family circle. The Daily Review has subscribers in every State in the Union and every county and township in this and surrounding states. It is just the daily paper for busy farmers and business men, professional 9 men and their families. Subscribe for the Daily Review to-day. Send one dollar to Chicago Review Co., Room 499, No. 1322 Wabash ave., Chicago, 111., and receive this fine paper every day except Sunday for a whole year.

Plodding together through the sand.