Reel Life (Sep 1913 - Mar 1914)

5 tion. As nearly as he could judge, it was some kind of a raft — with a bundle lashed to it — a bundle of canvas, or clothing. The surf had gone down very perceptibly during the night — and the tide was coming in. Waiting until the raft started on a long roller, he waded into the surf and, holding it until the crest of a second one reached him, pushed it well up the beach. In his already chilled condition, the water made him shiver. Hauling and tearing at the canvas, he ripped it from its lashings and, with teeth chattering, wrapped it around him — fold after fold. W'hen he had done so, a slight noise made him turn and glance down at the raft. To his amazement, a woman's head and shoulders emerged from what he supposed merely a bundle of watersoaked clothing. "Oh, where am l\ Who are you. Sir? B-r-r-r! . . . . I'm chilled through. Oh, surely — you won't leave me here — albue — in this condition !" "Hell! Another mouth to feed — an' no grub in sight !" Anyone who has experienced the almost insane frenzy of a shivering fit, when one is chilled to the marrow, will understand something of the savage determination to be warm at all costs which takes possession of a person at .such a time. He stalked away up the beach to a sheltered gully in the sand-dunes — leaving her among the wet clothes on the raft, each succeeding breaker washing over them as high as her shoulders. It seemed hours before she mustered strength to free herself of the sodden, encumbering cloth, and scramble up the beach to the dry and partly warm sand. Here^ she must have lost consciousness for a while — but when she recovered a little, she staggered along in the direction of the man's footprints in the sand and came upon him in his sheltered gully just as he had succeeded in getting, with his watch-crystal, a bit of smouldering fire in a little pile of very dry, inflammable cocoa-fibre. In his intense anxiety not to lose the little flame which it had cost him so much trouble to obtain, he shouted savagely over his shoulder : "Pick up a little armful of driftwood ! And if it's too wet to burn^ I'll choke the life out of you! Get a move on !" Scarcely knowing what she did, the girl staggered away to obey his orders — returning in a couple of moments with sticks enough to feed a slowly increasing blaze. Then, when he dared leave it for a moment, the man ran down to the beach and picked up enough drift rubbish to keep the fire going for hours. When he leturned, she sank down at bis feet, clasping her arms about his legs. "Oh^ put something warm around me — for just a little while! Just until I get my clothes dry — I'm shivering to death !" Flinging the canvas from his own shoulders, he wrapped it around her and disgustedly walked ofif to lay in a stock of drift that would enable him to keep the fire going for days at a time. Under the influence of its warmth and the extra clothing, she had dropped into a sleep of utter exhaustion when he returned — and after assuring himself that she wasn't dead, he proceeded to gather small logs, which he laid across the top of the gully, with drift on top of them, until he had made, by middle-afternoon, a very comfortable hut. When the girl finally awakened, he was standing outside of it, surveying his work — and as she approached to look inside, he scowled at her. But she sm.iled up at him in a friendly little way. He started to go in — then looked at her in a puzzled manner, as if trying to figure out what disposition he should make of her. "Oh — go on in! You can have this place all to yourself! I'll sleep outside, or rig up something else for a coop of my own. If you're rested up— an' dry — I reckon v/e'd better rustle for somethin' to eat. I aint had a bite since yesterday afternoon — an' I could almost eat you — just as you are. Come along! I'll show you where to dig for clams — then I'll shin up one of them trees for a bunch of cocoanuts !" They managed to make a very palatable meal of it. About two hours after dark, she left him to go inside the hut and isleep, but there were too many things weighing on her mind to do so comfortably, at once. Alone — on an uninhabited atoll — with a man who seemed at one moment to be a rather brutal specimen of the lower classes, and at other times, to show evidences of early breeding — with no probability of escape from the situation for months, or years — ^if ever! She was absolutely in his power — but the fact had only just occurred to her. With a strange sinking at heart, she saw him presently get upon his feet — stretch himself — and come around the fire — as if to enter the hut. She shrank back into the furthest corner, wrapping the canvas tightly about her. But he merely arranged a pile of fresh wood, very carefully latticed, upon the fire — and lay down to sleep between it and the entrance to the hut. In the morning, she rinsed out her ha:r in a little pool ■of fresh water behind the dune, and dried it before the fire. Then — with it blowing about her face and shoulders — she ran down across the beach to search the horizon for a possible sail, just as the man came along with a fish he'd succeeded in catching for breakfast. For the first time, he realized how beautiful she was — vital — throbbing with health and life. Coming slowly up .to her, he took a lock of the silky hair in his hand — and something in his eyes alarmed her. Twisting away from him, she ran back across the beach to her little cabin, in mortal terror — hearing the rapid thud of his feet in the sand behind her. Realizing that escape was impossible, she whirled and tried to intimidate him with a look. But with quiet, resistless force, he took her in his arms and covered her face with kisses. Then — as she sank down at his feet, burying her face in her hands and sobbing, he began to realize what he had done. "Oh, come, now — what's the use of being silly over a few kisses ! I couldn't help it — you knout that, don't you ! A^^o man could help it — with a girl as handsome as you are ! Shucks ! I wouldn't really hurt you. Come ! Stop your crying — an' see what a nice breakfast we'll have in no time ! Oh well — damn a fool woman, anyway ! Here ! . . . . Take the old fish ! Cook it your