Chapter 29

by Jack London

　　Chapter XXIX

　　"Fool!" I cried aloud in my vexation.

　　I had unloaded the boat and carried its contents high up on thebeach, where I had set about making a camp. There was driftwood,though not much, on the beach, and the sight of a coffee tin I hadtaken from the Ghost's larder had given me the idea of a fire.

　　"Blithering idiot!" I was continuing.

　　But Maud said, "Tut, tut," in gentle reproval, and then asked why Iwas a blithering idiot.

　　"No matches," I groaned. "Not a match did I bring. And now weshall have no hot coffee, soup, tea, or anything!"

　　"Wasn't it - er - Crusoe who rubbed sticks together?" she drawled.

　　"But I have read the personal narratives of a score of shipwreckedmen who tried, and tried in vain," I answered. "I rememberWinters, a newspaper fellow with an Alaskan and Siberianreputation. Met him at the Bibelot once, and he was telling us howhe attempted to make a fire with a couple of sticks. It was mostamusing. He told it inimitably, but it was the story of a failure.I remember his conclusion, his black eyes flashing as he said,'Gentlemen, the South Sea Islander may do it, the Malay may do it,but take my word it's beyond the white man.'"

　　"Oh, well, we've managed so far without it," she said cheerfully."And there's no reason why we cannot still manage without it."

　　"But think of the coffee!" I cried. "It's good coffee, too, Iknow. I took it from Larsen's private stores. And look at thatgood wood."

　　I confess, I wanted the coffee badly; and I learned, not longafterward, that the berry was likewise a little weakness of Maud's.Besides, we had been so long on a cold diet that we were numbinside as well as out. Anything warm would have been mostgratifying. But I complained no more and set about making a tentof the sail for Maud.

　　I had looked upon it as a simple task, what of the oars, mast,boom, and sprit, to say nothing of plenty of lines. But as I waswithout experience, and as every detail was an experiment and everysuccessful detail an invention, the day was well gone before hershelter was an accomplished fact. And then, that night, it rained,and she was flooded out and driven back into the boat.

　　The next morning I dug a shallow ditch around the tent, and, anhour later, a sudden gust of wind, whipping over the rocky wallbehind us, picked up the tent and smashed it down on the sandthirty yards away.

　　Maud laughed at my crestfallen expression, and I said, "As soon asthe wind abates I intend going in the boat to explore the island.There must be a station somewhere, and men. And ships must visitthe station. Some Government must protect all these seals. But Iwish to have you comfortable before I start."

　　"I should like to go with you," was all she said.

　　"It would be better if you remained. You have had enough ofhardship. It is a miracle that you have survived. And it won't becomfortable in the boat rowing and sailing in this rainy weather.What you need is rest, and I should like you to remain and get it."

　　Something suspiciously akin to moistness dimmed her beautiful eyesbefore she dropped them and partly turned away her head.

　　"I should prefer going with you," she said in a low voice, in whichthere was just a hint of appeal.

　　"I might be able to help you a - " her voice broke, - "a little.And if anything should happen to you, think of me left here alone."

　　"Oh, I intend being very careful," I answered. "And I shall not goso far but what I can get back before night. Yes, all said anddone, I think it vastly better for you to remain, and sleep, andrest and do nothing."

　　She turned and looked me in the eyes. Her gaze was unfaltering,but soft.

　　"Please, please," she said, oh, so softly.

　　I stiffened myself to refuse, and shook my head. Still she waitedand looked at me. I tried to word my refusal, but wavered. I sawthe glad light spring into her eyes and knew that I had lost. Itwas impossible to say no after that.

　　The wind died down in the afternoon, and we were prepared to startthe following morning. There was no way of penetrating the islandfrom our cove, for the walls rose perpendicularly from the beach,and, on either side of the cove, rose from the deep water.

　　Morning broke dull and grey, but calm, and I was awake early andhad the boat in readiness.

　　"Fool! Imbecile! Yahoo!" I shouted, when I thought it was meet toarouse Maud; but this time I shouted in merriment as I danced aboutthe beach, bareheaded, in mock despair.

　　Her head appeared under the flap of the sail.

　　"What now?" she asked sleepily, and, withal, curiously.

　　"Coffee!" I cried. "What do you say to a cup of coffee? hotcoffee? piping hot?"

　　"My!" she murmured, "you startled me, and you are cruel. Here Ihave been composing my soul to do without it, and here you arevexing me with your vain suggestions."

　　"Watch me," I said.

　　From under clefts among the rocks I gathered a few dry sticks andchips. These I whittled into shavings or split into kindling.From my note-book I tore out a page, and from the ammunition boxtook a shot-gun shell. Removing the wads from the latter with myknife, I emptied the powder on a flat rock. Next I pried theprimer, or cap, from the shell, and laid it on the rock, in themidst of the scattered powder. All was ready. Maud still watchedfrom the tent. Holding the paper in my lelf hand, I smashed downupon the cap with a rock held in my right. There was a puff ofwhite smoke, a burst of flame, and the rough edge of the paper wasalight.

　　Maud clapped her hands gleefully. "Prometheus!" she cried.

　　But I was too occupied to acknowledge her delight. The feebleflame must be cherished tenderly if it were to gather strength andlive. I fed it, shaving by shaving, and sliver by sliver, till atlast it was snapping and crackling as it laid hold of the smallerchips and sticks. To be cast away on an island had not enteredinto my calculations, so we were without a kettle or cookingutensils of any sort; but I made shift with the tin used forbailing the boat, and later, as we consumed our supply of cannedgoods, we accumulated quite an imposing array of cooking vessels.

　　I boiled the water, but it was Maud who made the coffee. And howgood it was! My contribution was canned beef fried with crumbledsea-biscuit and water. The breakfast was a success, and we satabout the fire much longer than enterprising explorers should havedone, sipping the hot black coffee and talking over our situation.

　　I was confident that we should find a station in some one of thecoves, for I knew that the rookeries of Bering Sea were thusguarded; but Maud advanced the theory - to prepare me fordisappointment, I do believe, if disappointment were to come - thatwe had discovered an unknown rookery. She was in very goodspirits, however, and made quite merry in accepting our plight as agrave one.

　　"If you are right," I said, "then we must prepare to winter here.Our food will not last, but there are the seals. They go away inthe fall, so I must soon begin to lay in a supply of meat. Thenthere will be huts to build and driftwood to gather. Also we shalltry out seal fat for lighting purposes. Altogether, we'll have ourhands full if we find the island uninhabited. Which we shall not,I know."

　　But she was right. We sailed with a beam wind along the shore,searching the coves with our glasses and landing occasionally,without finding a sign of human life. Yet we learned that we werenot the first who had landed on Endeavour Island. High up on thebeach of the second cove from ours, we discovered the splinteredwreck of a boat - a sealer's boat, for the rowlocks were bound insennit, a gun-rack was on the starboard side of the bow, and inwhite letters was faintly visible Gazelle No. 2. The boat had lainthere for a long time, for it was half filled with sand, and thesplintered wood had that weather-worn appearance due to longexposure to the elements. In the stern-sheets I found a rusty ten-gauge shot-gun and a sailor's sheath-knife broken short across andso rusted as to be almost unrecognizable.

　　"They got away," I said cheerfully; but I felt a sinking at theheart and seemed to divine the presence of bleached bones somewhereon that beach.

　　I did not wish Maud's spirits to be dampened by such a find, so Iturned seaward again with our boat and skirted the north-easternpoint of the island. There were no beaches on the southern shore,and by early afternoon we rounded the black promontory andcompleted the circumnavigation of the island. I estimated itscircumference at twenty-five miles, its width as varying from twoto five miles; while my most conservative calculation placed on itsbeaches two hundred thousand seals. The island was highest at itsextreme south-western point, the headlands and backbone diminishingregularly until the north-eastern portion was only a few feet abovethe sea. With the exception of our little cove, the other beachessloped gently back for a distance of half-a-mile or so, into what Imight call rocky meadows, with here and there patches of moss andtundra grass. Here the seals hauled out, and the old bulls guardedtheir harems, while the young bulls hauled out by themselves.

　　This brief description is all that Endeavour Island merits. Dampand soggy where it was not sharp and rocky, buffeted by storm windsand lashed by the sea, with the air continually a-tremble with thebellowing of two hundred thousand amphibians, it was a melancholyand miserable sojourning-place. Maud, who had prepared me fordisappointment, and who had been sprightly and vivacious all day,broke down as we landed in our own little cove. She strove bravelyto hide it from me, but while I was kindling another fire I knewshe was stifling her sobs in the blankets under the sail-tent.

　　It was my turn to be cheerful, and I played the part to the best ofmy ability, and with such success that I brought the laughter backinto her dear eyes and song on her lips; for she sang to me beforeshe went to an early bed. It was the first time I had heard hersing, and I lay by the fire, listening and transported, for she wasnothing if not an artist in everything she did, and her voice,though not strong, was wonderfully sweet and expressive.

　　I still slept in the boat, and I lay awake long that night, gazingup at the first stars I had seen in many nights and pondering thesituation. Responsibility of this sort was a new thing to me.Wolf Larsen had been quite right. I had stood on my father's legs.My lawyers and agents had taken care of my money for me. I had hadno responsibilities at all. Then, on the Ghost I had learned to beresponsible for myself. And now, for the first time in my life, Ifound myself responsible for some one else. And it was required ofme that this should be the gravest of responsibilities, for she wasthe one woman in the world - the one small woman, as I loved tothink of her.