Evening Star Newspaper, February 22, 1925, Page 60

THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, FEBRUARY 22 "1925—PART 5. Two Explorers on Final Dash Tempt the Savage Seas of Cape Horn American Artist and Norwegian Sailor Face Appalling Storm on Their Unprecedented Journey ‘With priceless time lost in thelr dash for Cape Morn through brushes with disaster in various forms, Mr. Kent and his mate had been forced to abandon their sloop- rigged lifeboat, windbound at Bahla Blanca, the southeast arm ot Parry Harbor. They struck overland on foot and succeeded in crossing Tierra del Fuego to its southern coast through a region where no white man had ever trod before them. Their destination was Ushuaia, on Beagle Channel Here it was their intention to ob- tain another boat and push on with all speed before the weather about the cape became impossible. BY ROCKWELL KENT. APE HORN remained not only a purpose to which by our soul's desire and our owt- ward boastfulness we stood committed, but a problem so difficult of solution that it occupied our minds to the excluslon of every other thought That Ultima Thule of mariners is not, most readers must be told, the southernmost point of tha continent of South America, nor of Tierra del Fuego, nor even of some great island nearly adjacent to it. It is the south- most point of a small rocky island of a forlorn and isolated group, the Wollastons, and lles, scaled in a straight line, about 75 miles south- easterly from Ushuaia. The town of Ushuaia, Tierra del Fuego, with its population of some hundreds or a thousand souls, stands at the bend of a little bay opening into Beagle Channel, isolated by an almost impassable wilderness of mountains from all land communica- tion—the farthest southern “city” of the world. Into this town we two had tramped, ragged, dirty and tired, with all the goods we owned upon our backs and nothing in our pock- ots. And had the people, after star- ing and smiling at our grotesque ap- pearance, decided to lock us up for mad it would have been less to won- der at than that on percelving our madness they somehow caught its spirit from us. And when to all who questioned us as to our purpose we replied * pe Horn,” they answered, *“Crazy! but good for you!" We did not propose, having adven- tured thus far, to content ourselves with standing on the limit of the shore to gaze off seaward—and yet for that we were completely and ex- clusively equipped. However, we could pace that long water front and look at the varied craft that lay at anchor in the harbor and discuss which one could serve our purpose best There was a small sloop of about 10 tons; she was of the very size we wanted, and the was idle. Upon somehow acquiring her we set our hearts. And that we might in our poverty as well have coveted the yacht of an emperor never, in our fatuous and unreflecting eagerness, occurred to us. * % % x HE owner of that craft was much desired one Fortunato Beban. | In company with Martin Lawrence, the first citizen of the town, who opened the way for old friendship and credit for us, I sought him out. Beban heard my story and consid- ered. Yes, he would rent the boat; the terms he'd have to think about. And although the interview had been friendly enough, my heart sank. While waiting I bore credentials to old Mr. Feeque, who came there 40 years ago to found the town. We drank coffes and cognac to- gether. “Beban—" he shook his hcfldv‘ “Lundberg, at Harberton,” he coun- | seled me, “is your man for the Horn; son as a hunter, mighty seal and otter as a marirer familiar with every rock and little anchorage of | those waters—even to the farthest Wollaston Islands, and of all men the best fitted to get us somehow to the Horn. He was at the same time known to be absent hunting seal on Staten Island a hundred miles to the eastward; he was therefore dismissed from our calculations. And lo! here, as an angel of Providence, he was! Christopherson was a huge, calm man, a Swede. He was familiar with Lundberg’s boat and the operation of the engine, and he enjoyed her own- er's unbounded confidence. To my proposition that he go with us in that boat to the Horn, both he and Lund- berg consented at once, with the proviso from Lundberg that she be returned to him before the 16th, as it was essential to his work of trans- porting logs for loading on the Rio Negro G UNDBERG'S boat was sloop- rigged; she was narrow and deep; she sailed abominably. An old 20- horse power engine was her chief reliance. This engine had lain for vears under water; It was rusted and cracked, it was bound together with wire and plugged with putty and soap. “The engine will never last to get there,” said Lundberg. He spoke with gloemy conviction. We loaded the boat with some bal- last, put a &pare anchor and a strong new chain on board, and sailed. And the farewells that were sald were as | solemn as at a lifetime’'s parting. With a favoring tide on the second day, we made Ushuala just as the town was waking. Hastily I went ashore to purchase provisions and to comply with the formalities of the port; we were impatient to get oft. “Get six cases of gasoline and put them aboard,” had been my parting instruction to the mate. It did not occur to me that any misunderstand- ing could arise over so simple an order. Ushuaia is not a busy place; for lack of occupation people lie abed. So that, whereas by now the sun stood high, folks still werd lingering over their morning cofftee, and the stores were shut It was almost two hours before 1 could procure my pur- chases and get my dispatch from the subprefect. At the end of that time I hailed the mate to take me back aboard. 'Oh,” said the into the skiff, they could only case: Well, that's aboard, isn't it?” “Why, no; we thought we'd better wait to see you about it.” And there, by that stupidity that meant half an hour's more delay, was sown the seed that would bear bitter fruit mate as I stepped “about the gasoline; let me have five weighed anchor and passed into the ba calm as we At the point BY OLIVER P. NEWMAN. ROM George Washington, whose birthday Is celebrated today from end to end of the country, to Calvin Coolidge romance and drama have walked beside the Presidents of the United States, dodged them in the discharge of their duties, and If that fails, get Indians and a canoe. It can be done that way, if | you must do it.” | Beban, meanwhile, ‘“considered.” | Lundberg, at Harberton, was 40 miles away on Beagle Channel. We were growing desperate. GIving up all hope of getting a re- | ply from Beban, I had set a day to| cross in a small boat of Feeque's to| Navarin in search of India: it seemed the only thing to do—when, in the stiliness of the early morning, 1 heard the chugging of a motor in the bay. A little sloop came in and| tied up at the mole. And it was Lund- | berg! { “Well,” sald Lundberg, when we had | moved together to a public house and I had finished my impassioned plea, “if you can get Beban's boat, do—and Tl stand credit for you. If you can't, I'll take you.” By a strange chance Lawrence came up at that moment seeking me. “I have Beban's answer,” he said with a grin, Five hundred American dollars for the first 10 days or less, and $50 a day after that. “That settles it,” said Lundberg. “And If we lose your boat,” I said, as quickly as he had spoken L glve you mine that's now in Admiralty Sound.” “If we lose mine,” answered Lund- | berg solemnly, “no one of us will ever | need another.” The only drawback to this fortunate solution of the problem of thé means for getting to the Horn was that Lundberg was not prepared to start with us at once. His plans neces- sitated a delay of several days, and that, with my allotted time in South America drawing n its en was exasperating enough. Yet it was with wild elation that I returned to my | bedridden mate and communicated the event to him. L e O sick JT, was both natural and proper that Lundbers, after an excursion for logs to Lapatala Bay, should desire to visit and say adieu to his family at Harberton before starting with us on that “suicidal” voyage southward. And, in order to keep very close to that skipper upon whose humor we were now depending, we prepared to accompany him, At Harberton, however, we entered on such happy weeks as might have held Odysseus longer than 10 years from home. Yet about those unpre- tentious grounds and buildings there was little—with the fair exception of the terraced flower garden—to Sug- gest to the eye the comforts and the leasures that we found the The surrounding meadows and tures had but the mild beauty of a cul- tivated rolling country. True, such quiet scenes possess a tranquillity which is a moral quality akin to beauty and that is perhaps more en- duringly contenting to the spirit. The days went by like hours. On one pretext or another Lundberg put Off sailing with us to the Horn until after Christmas. Lundberg’s reasons {or delay were without end; and their elusiveness somehow detracted nothing from their plausibility. Our sailing ap- peared now to hang upon the ar- rival of an Argentine transport, the Rio Negro, on which ha was ship- ping logs to Buehos Alres; but the date get for that ship's arrival vaell- lated tantalizingly. We reached the Sth of January. Then a new plan occurred—to be carried to the nearest point of Na- varin Island, to cross it on foot to Rio Douglas on the southwest shore, and there with an Indian and a canoe, as had been suggested by Mr. Feeque, a dash for the Wollaston lslands. Lundberg readily consented to carry us across the channel, and the following day was set for the start. That day dawned, beautiful with biue and gold, and all was ready for our crazy scheme—when, riding down |are now | & | | and abided with them in their presiden- al mansions. About them has centered chief interest in the political, military, social and commercial life of the American people. * Just all eyes turned on President Cool- {dge (and the White House) to wateh him dedicate himself to the trust which the people have placed in his hands, so have the eyes of the country turned upon his predecessors each four years for more than a century. Tragedy, comedy, self - sacrifice, greed, nobility, meanness, love, hate, envy, revenge and all other forces which influence human endeavor have played their part in the White House. If the walls of that historlc old butlding could speak they would relate tales of laughter and tears, of the heights of exaltation and the depths of despair, for the lights and shadows, the good hours and the bad, of a young nation rushing onward to its destiny have been revealed there through the individuals charged for the moment with its direction. The scene fs sometimes a “Republ presided over by the state- Washington; sometimes a democratic dirmer by Thomas Jeffer- “PO,R, A Lp‘\' TIME, IN THE WILD UPROAR OF THE ENGINE, SEA AND WIND, NO ONE HAD SPOKE | nel. broke over Coming about group of and us; we shelter of increased evening. We in Half a gale and made we ran anchored and raged that the gray an mid- the no for islands in an were [ crossing of anchorage, ana the lost half hour became 12 At 2 in the morning we awoke. It was still utterly calm when we | was cloudy and dark and calm Tt Not | of Ushuaia Peninsula a light breeze|we skirted among innumerable is- | met us from the westward and broke | the mirrored landscape of the chan- increased | hour from sailing we were In | 1anas | to_rain o | The passage betwéen Navarin and | Hoste Islands is in places very nar- | row; the shores are steep with many jutting headiands, but not moun- tainous. They are clothed in forest. It was a gloomy wilderness and dark, that early morning In the rain Leaving the southeast point of Du- mas Peninsula, we entered upon the Ponsonby Sound. There was not a breath of wind and the | snow-topped mountains of Hoste Is- land that stood as islands above the hanging banks of cloud were re- and headed south. It began for an‘hour would the wretched en-|fiected in the gray mirror of the dawn |In an hour we had cro ed the sound and were entering on a long, wind- ing passage that transepted the nose of Pasteur Peninsula. We emerged into Courselle Bay, near the south- ern extremity of the peninsula. TN oA HE Wollaston Islands are the last group of the archipelago of far southwestern South America, the last peaks of the descending Cordillera to emerge above the sea. The western trade winds, checked and diverted by the mountain ranges to the north, sweep with accumulated violence around their southern end and make the Wollastons a reglon of prevail- ing storms. Their high peaks comb the clouds for those last miseries of QUIRED TO COMPLETE IT. hail and snow that Heaven can in- flict on désolation. No_ ene inhabits them We were, therefore, startled when on entering Victoria Channel, where we Intended lying for the night, we saw smoke ascending from a suppos- edly uptenanted camp on Bailey Is- land that in vears past had been Christopherson's. A long, low shanty built of boards and tin stood on the shore with the luxuriant green bank of thicket at ite back. A rod or two away, partly concealed in a grove of canelo trees, was a tent-shaped Indian wigwam. As we approached, a rude skiff manned by two men put out from cenes of a Century With White House for Setting boots and all, | ‘THE CAPITOL BEFORE THE FIRE. IT WAS CONSIDERED A MAGNIFICENT AND COMMODIOUS STRUCTURE. FIFTEEN YEARS WERE RE- son, with precedence abolished and guests sitting wherever they please and conducting themselves in infor- mal manner; and sometimes a serious “breakfast” by Calvin Coolidge. All roads lead to the White House and any boy (or girl) country, of whatever race or creed, may travel them. Conversely, all roads lead away from the White House. The things that have hap- pened along these routes, as well as the things centering In the President’s mahsion itself, constitute a thrilling record of America’s first 135 years as a republic. Washington was freated as a king, because a “ruler’ was the only sort of government head with which the people of the time were familiar, despite the theories of some of their democratic leaders and the fact that they had fought the Revolutionary War for “fréedom.” At his second in- auguration, in Philadelphia, he wore a black velvet sult, with knee breeches, black silk stockings, low shoes with silver buckles and a jeweled sword in a richly embossed scabbard. He was drawn to the cere- monies in a white coach, hauled by the trall toward the house, appeared 2 horseman. All knew him at a giance—Christopherson! Wa had been told of Christophers six white horses, which marched viduals slowly waving white plumes, heralding the ruler’s Washington's house was universally called the Official functions were marked by the ceremony and formal- ity of court affairs were calied “levees.” John Adams was the first President the White House in Wash- ington, so named from the Curtis’ old colonial home in Virginia. 1 finished on November 1800, and its damp plaster made Mrs. Adaws #pprehensive for household. two born in the |lican Court.” of her went gress stayed in s at the head majestic approach. in New in" Europe, when She have for hanging White House wash up to dry The night before Thomas Jefferson White predecessor, John Adams, sat up until the last minute making out nomina- Con- House to office. on to enable | of indi- York “Repub- and stair- the 17, the health complained that there was no fence, yard or other outdoor accommodations and used the East Room, now ‘famous for the his- occurred the his the Senate to confirm them, and John Marshall, then Secretary of State, sat up in his office making out commis- sions until Levi Lincoln, who was to become Attorney General next day, walked in with Jefferson's watch in his hand and stopped the performance. The Federalists were so incensed at Jefferson's selection as President and were so fearful that his “repub- lican” ideas would wreck the Govern- ment that every possible effort was made to leave important offices in safe” hands, Before daylight Adams quit the White House and drove out of town, rather than bear the humiliation of watcking Jefferson’s inauguration, which many men sincerely believed might usher in such scenes as had but lately occurred in France and shocked the world. * % % x EFFERSON was the first President selected by “King Caucus famous institution composed of the members of Congress, which also nominated Madison and Monroe, and held out a program of “presidential succession” covering another quarter of a century, only to be smashed by WASHINGTON CROSSING THE DELAWARE-NOT IN THE ICE ON CHRISTMAS NIGHT, 1776, BUT ON A GORGEOUSLY DECORATED BRIDGE WHILE ON HIS WAY TO NEW YORK FOR HIS FIRST IN- AUGURATION, APRIL 30, 1789, Andrew Jackson, the fiery Indian campaigner, who fought 1% duels, carried the bullets of some of his an- tagonists to his grave, killed Charles Dickinson on the field of honor, &mashed the United States Bank, made a pretty barmaid aueen of his cabinet and died with only one regret, that he had not hanged John C. Cal- houn for treason. artin Van Butén, the “Red Fox of Kindérhook,” became President of the United States because he espoused the | cause of Peggy O'Neal when the so- ciety ladies of the Capital sought to snub hér. He gave the wotd that led to a whole cabinet except one-mem- ber being kicked out by Peggy's dainty toe. coln’s first inaugural address was a grave disappointment to those who heard it. After looking about for a place to put his hat while he read the address, he, finally, in em- barrassment, handed it to the man sitting nearest him, who happened to bs his ancient enemy, Stephen A. Douglas, and who thereupon held thé hat on his lap while Lincoln read. The new President’s awkwardness, his ungainly appearance and manner of delivery caused people to, think they must depend upon a rustic weakling to handle the grave ques- tions then rushing to a crisis, the date being March 4, 1861. The fact that there is such a plate as the “District of Columbia” was due to fear that the Federal Government would be controlled by the city or State authorities (or by the popu- lace) If the seat of Government were located in any existing town. The spectacle of the Government belng overthrown by the people was terri- fying. The decision to create a Fed- eral district was also Influenced by the fact that angry Revolutionary soldiers, demanding their pay, storm- ed the Continental Congress in Phila- delphia, defled the local authorities and ran the members out of town to Princeton, where sessions were re- sumed safe from the irate warriors. The selection of the site which be- came the District of Columbia_ was the result of a “deal” between Ham- ilton and Jefferson, rival leaders of the early history of the republic, who founded, respectively, what are now the Republican and Democratic par- ties. Hamilton wanted the new Fed- eral Government to assume the Revo- lutionary War debts of the States. Jefferson headed the faction that op- posed it. The latter agreed to line up enough votes to carry “assumption,” as Hamilton’s policy was called, pro- vided Hamilton would agree to ctrry the seat of Government to the Poto- mac. Washington personally supervised the laying out of the city, which was named for him before his death and with his Bonsent, and he presided at the laying of the corner stones of the Capitol and the White House (the former ceremoniés being in chi of Bih Masonic 16age OF Alexanariay, but he did not live to see either building completed or occupied. He helped Peter Charles L'Enfant, the French éngineer, design the plan of city, which has been preserved and foi- lowed in great part until today, but he had to abandon his friénd to his fate when L'Enfant marched a force of men in the night td Duddington Manor, the newly erected house of Daniel Carroll, one of the commis- sioners appointed to build the Capi- tal City, and razed it merely because Carroll ‘had built it in the middle of what was, on paper, New Jersey avenue, one of the broad, diagonal streets existing then only in the Frenchman's mind. * ok ok %k HEN the Eritish burned the Capitol and the White House in the War of 1812, “Dolly” Madison, whose husband was then President, hurriedly ordered an, attendant to cut from its frame the life-size, full length portrait of Washington (still in the White House), roll it up and carry it, with the few personal effects saved, into Virginia, where the fam- ily remained until the British de- parted. After the White House had been rebuilt, and duriig John Quincy Adams’ administration, billlards had become so popular among _the sportive gentry (which included all géntlemen) that a table was installed in the White House. “This incensed the people and contributed to Adams' defeat, despite the fact that ~Old Hickory,” his victor, owned the greatest race horse of the time, the famous Virkinla thoroughbred, Trux- ton, raced him at the popular tracks, and entered his own gamecocks in the Innumerable mains of that sportive period. On the day Andrew Jackson be- came President a crowd of 10,000 backWwoodsmen, trappers, _hunters and ploneérs, wearing coonskin caps and boots, stormed the White ‘House to see “their President” While an era of “democracy” had béen ushered in_with Jefferson in 1801, it was a démocraty of thedry and -principles rather than of personnel. Jefferson himselt (and the officials he gathered about him) were the aristocrats of their time. Jackson himself cime from “the péople” and brought & great hords to Washington with him. The distinguished, daintily gown: 1adies of the little “country capit had been accustomed to rulé all o cial functions, but on March 4, 1829, they Were swept aside and félt as if their preserves were being overrun by a horde of barbarians. Pennsyl- vanla avenue wa$ then a wide ex- panse of mud. No attempt had been made to give it any sort of paving. Through it the 10,000 swarmed from the IYI to_the White House, el- | bowing t! o de dames out of the Way and almost mobbing Jackson in helr ety siaam. N t the Bite House the crowds the store and pulled to meet us. They were an umkempt, dirty-looking pair, a white man and an Indian. The white man was young and, in spite of a scraggly growth of silken whisker: rakishly handsome, yet with the meanly pitiléss eyes that are often the accompaniment of effeminate beauty. Bringing a serutiny to some conclusion, he greetéd us, invited us to come ashore, and then rowed back. Taking along two bottles of fiery cana and a quarter of mutton, we landed and went up to the house. We entered a dark and filthy inte- rior that revealed its furnishings only when our eyes had become accus- tomed to the gloom. Here in .this squalid filth lived two families; we were introduced. Vasquez—the man who had greeted us, & murderer—free after a term at the Ushuala Penitentiary; Genevieve —a_pleasant, pretty, brown-skinned, dark-eved, slatternly young Argen- tine, his wife; Garcia, a male, aged 50, a creaturé in no definite way de- formed, yet of as hideously forbidding an aspéct as one might ever meet— Garocia, ex-Inspector at the prison of Ushuaia; Margarita, his wife—a Yahgan Indian of perhaps twenty, pathetically gentle, sweet and ssrvile —and her child not more than 3 months old; and Berte, the Yahgan —he looked 40, said he was 60, and proved it by accounting for 12 years at an Fnglish mission. He lived alons in the wigwam. These people were subjects of Ar- gentina, hunting otter on theé soil of Chile; they were poachers living in fear of detection and the law. And now on one of the most re- mote and desolate spots upon the earth we stand in this dark and squalid den, confronte@ by as vil- lainous a créw as ever fought for pirate tréasurs. We are unarmed. Night is descending. The murderer is pouring out cana; he advances toward mé bearing two cups, and hands meé one. enor,” he says, “they téll me that you ars an artist. I consider artists, writers and musicians to be the great- est people in the world. I drink to your prosperity: salud!” And, with the most candid, charming smile, he touches my cup with his, and we drink. * ¥ ¥ % EXT morning, the wind was blow- ing with the velocity of a gale, making it difficult even in our com- parativély sheltered anchorage to row back to the boat from land Wind-bound, we spent the day ishore The following day still holding us wind-bound, 1 set out with the mate for the summit of the island, a mountain 1,100 feet in altitude. The hillsldes, and | matted brush marsh, and stony through thickets of and wind-dwarfed trees was one of alternating sun and rain After our first cold drenching learned to watch the squalls approack and seek in time the shelter of a| rock, or make a refuge plled on the top of a low-branching tree. Under such shelters we would | stormed in, muddy smashed furniiure in the struggle to see their hero, climbed up on richly upholstered divans and chairs and ail but wrecked the establishment. When servants appeared with trays of punch, they were mobbed, the glasses and pitchers knocked out of thelir hands and broken, and lquor spilled on the floors. Aftér two or three | hours of such excitéement, which “Old Hickory” thoroughly enjoyed, the master, Maj. Willlam B. Lewis, set punch’ tablés up on the south lawn, which instantly reduced the crowd in the house. The gang surged about the place all the afternoon and eve- ning, however, and when it was all over many of them had to be carried or helped away, becawse they had partaken too lavishly of the punch, which had plenty of Kick. * % x x HE first inaugural ball (an insti- tution that flourished for more than a century, to be abolished in 1913 by Woodrow Wilson) was held on March 4, 1809, when James Madi- son was Inaugurated to succeed Jef- ferson. Madison and Jefferson both attended, as did the gayly charming “Queen Dolly,” as she was affec- tionately known for 16 sparkling years. Jefferson being a widower. and Madison being his Secretary of State, the delightful daughter of Quaker John Payne was chatelaine of the White House for the elght years of Jefferson’s administration, as well as the eight years of her hus- band’s. At the great inaugural ball at Long's Hotel, “she looked a queen,” wearing & gown of “pale, buff-colored velvet made plain, with a very long train, but not the least bit of trim- ming; a beautiful pearl necklace, ear- rings and bracelets; her headdress s a turban of the same colored velvet and white satin—from Paris, with two supérb plumes of the bird- of-paradise feathers.” Hoops or crinoline caused her skirts and pétti- coats to billow about her and beneath the Inevitable turban a few stray, black curls escaped, to dance merrily about her smiling face as she curt- sléd, bowéd and waved her dainty hands to the other guests. It was an occasion and a setting exactly suited to the amiable, graceful lady who thoroughly enjoyed herself, as she always did, despite John Quincy Adams’ observation that “the crowd was excessive, the heat oppressive and the entertainment bad.” Jefferson had requested people not to celebrate his birthday, as they were beginning to celebrats Wash- ington's, S0 he was not embarrassed as Washington had been, just a few days before the latter retired from the Presidency, on March 4, 1797. The capital at that time was still in Phil- adelphia, which was the largest town jn the country and the. gavest. Wealthy réfugees from France hed taken up residence there, the Govern- ment officials and members of Con- gress remained in the city most of the time, and many great families of the revolutionary and pre-revolution- ary days were at the height of thelr importance and influence. Taking its tone from “Iady"” Washington's ‘re- publican courts,” society gave to Philadelphia_ the atmosphere and graces of a European capital. Into these select circles the trades- men of the city and their families Wwere struggling to gain a footing, to the indignation of the socially elect, whose most exclusive institution was the ‘City Dancing Assembly,” whose doors wers barred against any per- son remotely connected with ‘trade.” The assembly decided to celebrate ‘Washington's birthday with & ball, ‘which should also be in the nature of a faréwell to the President. In- vitations were sent out for the night of February 22. Not a tradesman was invited. = But the tradespeople got together, formed = soclety of their own, to which they gave the same name, “City Dancing Assembly,” and fsaued invitations for a farewell ball to Washington for the night of Feb- ruary 21. The town gasped and walted to see which invitation Wash- ington would accept. He solved the problem by attending both parties. (Mrfll‘l'b 1925, by Current News ‘eatures, Inc.) way lay over inland flats of bog and | 2" & The aay i more bright ‘we | €nds. pa: of boughs | Wate f President's bld_friend and quarter- | huddle, shivering with cold, and lst the rain drive past us on the gale After a last steep ascent of several hundred feet we reached the mountain top, and, clinging there against ,the storm, beheld the vast and fearful won- der of the region of Cape Horn. Through the drifting murk of the clouds appeared 2 wilderness of mountain peaks With the torn sea gleaming at their base, stark islands with the storm’s night over them or glistening with a sunshaft on their streaming sides, or veiled illusively in falling rain. And, as we looked, eud- denly the darkness of a midnight closed around us, obliterating eversthing but the pinnacle of rock on which we crouched for shelter. Then the squall struck—and the scréaming fury of it shook our faith in the stabllity of granits mountain peaks. White lines of hail streaked past, hiding the universe in their perpetual stream. The world became fo us that bit of rock we clung to, a cast-off meteor fragment hurled through space. And then, as suddenly as it had come, the squall had passed, and we wers baock upon a mountain peak. But it Winter now, and the sun shons on #opes white with new-fallen snow. Our eyés turned southward. The Jagged range of Hermit Island was shrouded in a passing storm. Hall Is- ‘lantdhoflbxlu eastern end was almost lost n the obscurity of vapors that ingulfs B pors that ingulfed “Look " we cried The vapors parted: past the dark edge of Wollaston appeared a cloven point of rock, faint and far off, with white surf gleaming at its foot Horn Island ! We have seen it! close. hard, And the vapors * % % x ERTE, still prostrated from bauch, lay in his wigwam. When we had called on him and asked his prophecy of coming weather the oracle had replled unfailingly, “Very bad.” And %0 it proved. It was the 14th of January, the eve of the last day that we might keep the boat. The wind raged un- abated, and it rained. It was unutter- ably dismal This evening, as I stood looking out I saw a change come over out of doors. The rain had almost ceased. I went out and walked to the water's cdge. It was near sundown, and the clouds had made it almost dark. But now a golden light transfused the atmosphere, and presen 1y as I stood looking northeasterly across the water there appeared a rainbow faintly glowing there. Its omen of the pot of gold my mind, and I remembered ing dzl"l!\ that had sp ed ward way four months 0, and hat again had seemed to tead us miro) the mountains, and now, ever eluding ainment, it beckoned nor vard ! _There is no rainbow’s end, 1 ::v"\‘;.‘ » Yet even as I watched it now it g and more defined Kflw’:fi)« the north, and g the horizon, came neare approaching cach other - the. o hemicycle, Now they were upon the wern : arbor and moved st calmly dnmmamnmrn;g?, ":»:H'“' = blown spray like destiny approaching cousummation. The flaming circle closed B Where the two ends meet was ! erte came staggering out of h wigwam. At my anxious question :rbhr:u; phe morrow's weather—o, ch Hung - , : Jihich hung our last hope of attalr “Tomorrotw, S0 had.” | We sailed at the fi st si o n | Berte and the |nl."fl’;ufl“in Foprds ("X'rlfi(‘h—d],\' appeared their skiff and asked to be carriad through Washington ('h.inn‘lrarr\]\ 1 took them on board and the skiff fn tow. In that dark canal between the mountains of Wollaston and Balley Islands it was hushed and calm, so that our passage desecrated the si. lence, and the echo of the noisy mo- tor flaunted, too soon, its puny ar- rogance at the slumbering Titans. Close to the shore, in the les of a ®mall peninsula of Wollaston Island, We stopped to disembark our passen- gers. They had the wind and the | sea astern to make the bay, but the | courage failed them and they fairl | eringed with k of resolution cried impatiently, came to the gleam- our south- through arch blazed he sald at last Vasquez un- alongside 1n | “Come on!" we “get out Somehow they clambered inte the skiff. They had brought two guns on board; some one held the gun out to Vasquez, who seemed to grasp it in his trembling hands. “Have you got it “Good!" And the gun, released, slipped through his fingers and sank to the bottom of the sea. We tossed the rifle into the skiff, ordered them to let go—and bore away, leaving them frantically pulling for the shore And now the Horn! It was still the twilight of morning—a gloomy a streak of crimson had broken }H\r dark pall of the clouds. The {erested sea was mountain high and | tragically biack, a restless, tossing sea, not wind-blown, but more terri ble In that it seemed to lift and fall by some energ within ftself. Our boat was slow in answering the helm; she was sluggish and dispirited and had no buoyancy to ride the crest but, like an overladen, tired thing, let them break over her and pour the length of her and weigh her déwn., It was raining; we were drenched. Thé companjonway was a cramped shelter for the three men. I went be- low and crawled on all fours through the dripping, smoke-fllled, suffocat- ing darkness of the hold to reach the forward hatch. If it happened to be fastened, it occurred to me, I'd never live to reach the air again. It wasn't. I propped if open—only an inch or two for breath; but a moment later a sea boarded us and poured a deluge through. We had almost reached the middle of Franklin Sound. A strong wind had increased the sea's violence; we wers being roughly handled and were |making very little progress. The mate, holding the tiller, watched the séas with concentration so intense that his face had an expression of agony. Christopherson was as im- passive as ever, but not smiling. It my own countenance showed an; thing but painfully affected n chalance, it must have been falt faith in Christopherson and Ole Ytterock, the mate. For a long time in the wild uproar of the engine and the sea and wind no one had spoken. Then Christo- phersen spoke in Swedish to the mate, and the mate answered—with- out taking his eyes from the water Christopherson turned to me. “I tank,” he says quietly, “we must turn bac! “Can’t we make it?” I ask. “I tank not”” And the mate look- ed at me and shook his head. Later and now in looking back upon that moment in Franklin Sound, when we attained our ~“farthest south,” I am inclined to forget how cold and miserable we were and how Topelessly our little craft struggled to advanve through those dark, huge seas; 1 belittle the terrors of the moment and reproach myself with having abandoned too easily, on the counsel of others, that last attempt to achleve what I had come so far, to do. And yet fate timed with dramatic precision one incident that should make me calmly certain that our co tinuance against Chiristopherson’'s judgment would have brought failure and possibly disaster upon us. We had scarcely regained the shelter of Washington Channel when our motor falled—not for five hours would It run was asked. early twilight, for not (Next Sunday Mr. Newman will re- cite the Inter :'ig‘" dl_fler“_m?g h;ai tween early, s augurals an {het ot Pred oildges again. And two days after the motor Brought us safely back to Harberton it breathed its very last . (Copyright, 1925.)