The Mooreland Leader. (Mooreland, Okla.), Vol. 7, No. 39, Ed. 1 Friday, December 31, 1909 Page: 4 of 9
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SERIAL
STORY
SJ
Uhe
LAST VOYAGE
of the
DONNA ISABEL
By Randall Parrlsh
Author of
'"Bob Hampton of T'lactr." ate.
Illustration* by Dearborn Melvill
Copy right A O. UcClurs .V Co.. 1MM.
CHAPTER I.
In Which Begins Adventure.
Some may question the truth of this
narrative, yet they will scarcely be
found among those who "go down to
ihe sea In ships." To them the un-
fathomable mystery abiding upon the
face of the great deep, the constant
marvel of huge, heaving leagues of
watery solitude, secret and profound,
must ever remain bo vast, so lnex
pllcable, as to be beyond any Interrog-
atory of the finite—the strange, the
unexpected, lurking everywhere. To
others, mere landsmen, confidently
imagining that all phenomena can be
reduced within the contracted limits
of human comprehension, I need say
no more than that witnesses still sur-
vive to corroborate the principal inci-
dents of this story, which I now pur
pose writing in the full glow of a mem-
ory still dominated by the events to
be recorded.
It had come to be the Btli day of
April, the year 1879. I, John Stephens,
aged 24, occupied a rather comfort-
able seat upon the shaded balcony of
that large, ultra-fashionable hotel at
Valparaiso, which, as travelers will
recall, clings to the steep hillside over-
looking both the city and harbor be-
neath. I was alone, not having as yet
ordered the serving of the evening
meal.
A gayly attired military band was
playing noisily In a near-by plaza, and
through the intervening distance I was
able to distinguish plainly the patri-
otic notes of national music. 1 even
believed that a medley of shouting
voices, mingled with an echo of
cheers, was borne to me on the rising
nlgtit wind, and I leaned above the
low railing to gaze down, slightly in-
terested. as a regiment of Chilean in-
fantry—regulars of the line, from
their white trousers and stiff hats—
■wept swiftly past the hotel corner in
rapid time, to disappear suddenly
over the steep crest In the direction
of the quay. Far away, toward the
right, where the long row of gray-
store barracks was still dimly visible
against the darker background of sur-
rounding hills, was to be discerned a
glimmer of steel, as squadrons of cav-
alry and artillery engaged in dress
parade, their numerous banners flap-
ping against the sky. At the moment
these several occurrences served to
awaken the merest interest, tending
rather to bring home to memory a
freshening knowledge of the despera-
tion of my situation.
It can all be told In few words: I
was persona non grata to the Chilean
authorities, with apparently every pos-
sible avenue leading forth from the
country fully and effectively barred.
While personally unknown to those
officials, thus far successful in mask
ing my movements under the guise of
a foreign gentleman of leisure tem
porarily resident at a fashionable
hotel, 1 nevertheless discovered it im-
possible to break through the cordon
of watchful government spies and
shake the Chilean dust from ofT my
feet. A rapid explanation will Buffice.
A native of Massachusetts, of excel-
lent family connections, together with
prospects of furure wealth, I early de-
veloped the unrestrainable propensi-
ties of a rover, and after a vain effort
to turn my reluctant ambition toward
one of the learned professions my par-
ents, despairing of ever doing better,
finally consented to apprentice me to
the sea. Unfortunately for the reali-
sation of their more secret hopeB, I
took to that hard, adventurous life as
a duck to water, so that, at the end of
five years' service, I had risen,
through the various grades, to the hon
orable position of first officer in the
old Leyland line, my steamship being
the Vulcan, trading between New
York and South American ports.
Soon after I attained this berth my
father died suddenly, leaving behind
him a fair amount of property, a good-
ly share of which came to me in cash.
It chanced that, during a previous
voyage, a passenger on board had suc-
ceeded in interesting me deeply in cer-
tain mining operations which he was
conducting under a Bolivian conces
slon. Finding myself In possession of
abundant means, and experiencing
that occasional disgust for sea life
common to all sailor-men, I embarked
with boyish enthusiasm in this new
enterprise, not only investing a con-
siderable amount of money, but like-
wise giving the company my personal
services as assistant superintendent.
Beyond doubt our concession was
an extremely valuable one, but, as we
were Boon destined to discover, it
came to us with an unfortunate flaw In
the title, there developing a spirited
controversy between the constituted
authorities of Bolivia and Chile, over
which country the territory Involved
belonged. From harsh words In pub-
lic, and the private exchange of dip-
lomatic notes, the argument rapidly
advanced to blows, and was finally re-
ferred to the arbitrament of the rifle.
As our financial interests were en-
tirely Bolivian, and our invested money
at stake, it was no more than natural
that we should openly ally ourselves
with that struggling faction which the
Chilean authorities promptly de
nounced as Insurrectos, and proceeded
to crush.
It was something of a comic opera
war, resulting in two or three sklr
mishes wherein Ill-equipped and poorly
officered palsanos were pitted against
regular troops of the line, and, as we
received from Bolivia no more sub
stantial aid than vague promises, our
resistance, though rather stubborn,
was soon overcome. When the final
wild stampede for safety came, I dls
covered myself, as quartermaster gen
m
mm
Three Were in the Party, Apparently
Father, Mother and Daughter.
eral of the late revolutionary forces,
still In possession of a considerable
sum of money, to which no one else
possessed any better claim, the un-
healed scar of a Chilean bullet In my
shoulder, and an exceedingly flattering
chance of being summarily shot by
drumhead court-martial if caught. All
opportunity for retreat across the Bo-
livian frontier was already effectively
blocked, but, after several weeks of
excessive hardship, skulking amid the
dark recesses of Indian huts in the
mountains, I succeeded In stealing un-
observed Into Valparaiso, feeling con-
fident that, as a sailor, I should be
able to discover in that busy seaport
some early opportunity for escape.
This confidence was doomed to bit-
ter disappointment. The Chilean au
thorities were especially desirous of
apprehending me, inspired doubtless
by visions of the war-chest, rumored
to be of far greater value than truth
could Justify. They were both alert
and suspicious. The American consul
was obdurate to pleading, refusing
peremptorily to become involved in
the affair, while no war vessel floating
the flag of the United States, to which
I might flee for protection, entered
the harbor. Manifestly it was impos-
sible for me to depart on any foreign
vessel as a passenger without possess-
ing the necessary papers properly
vised, nor could I even ship as sea-
man before the mast without running
the gantlet of numerous suspicious
ofllcials especially warned to appre-
hend me. In brief, though possessing
ample means, I was a helpless pris-
oner, my only safety the keeping out
of sight from all In authority within
the narrow confines of the hotel.
Sitting there in solitude that even-
ing I thought it out all over again for
the hundredth time, bitterly chrslng
myself for a stupid fool, yet utterly
unable to discover any venturesome
prospect of ultimate escape. I was
trapped as securely as though the
hand of actual arrest was about to be
placed* upon my shoulder. I might,
by thus continuing to skulk in the
dark, delay the result, yet the final
ending was inevitable. Beyond doubt
I was cornered, and the time was ripe
for the eager acceptance of any reck
less opportunity. Yet, desperate as 1
was, 1 could perceive none; every-
where arose the same blank wall of
Chilean power, impassable, unassail-
able. Insurmountable. Saint Andrew!
mine was a situation to chill the blood.
The Btars began to gleam in the
black void of sky overhead, those bril-
liant, scintillating stars of the south
In their unfamiliar constellations, for-
ever reminding mo that I was an alien
and a stranger. The city itself,
wrapped within the deepening folds of
this early night mantle, appeared un-
usually noisy and demonstrative. I
dimly wondered at it. There was a
ceaseless blare of bands, a medley of
inarticulate cries, mingled with the
continuous disorder of shuffling feet
along the roughly paved streets. I
could distinguish nothing definite as
I hung curiously over the bal-
cony rail, staring Idly down, yet
It was plainly evident that the entire
population was astir with some In-
creasing excitement. Far out toward
the distant mouth of the harbor a fort-
ress battery was firing salvos of ar-
tillery, the swift flames of discharge
cleaving the black shadows In vicious
spurts of yellowish red, the sullen re-
verberations of sound shaking the ho-
tel casements. Some Holy Saint's day,
1 Imagined, wondering idly what spe-
cial devotion of the church could be
responsible for so much of uproar, bo
general an outpouring of enthusiasm.
Still, the thought held me barely for
a moment; my own personal affairs
were far too serious and insistent for
any wasted attention upon the saints.
I turned back from the rail and
glanced carelessly within. The great
dining hall was already brilliantly Il-
luminated, and a number of the tables
were surrounded by guests. It formed
a cosmopolitan scene, the grouped
faces being representative of a wide
variety of races, the scraps of conver-
sation which floated to me through the
open wiudow revealing half the lan-
guages of Europe. Swarthy Spaniards,
volatile Frenchmen, silent sons of Al-
bion, talkative Yankess, bewhiskered
and bespectacled Germans, blonde,
rosy-cheeked Swedes, together with
representatives from half a dozen
South American countries, were indis-
criminately mingled in sudden broth
erhood. This motley, interesting com-
pany was composed principally of
men, exhibiting here and there the
glitter of military uniforms, or some
peculiarity of attire attesting the pres-
ence of the inevitable globe-trotter, al-
though the majority were plainly
enough commercial gentlemen, inter-
ested In various lines of trade, and
drawn into this vortex from the four
corners of the globe in the wild scram-
ble after gold. No foreign passenger
steamer had entered the harbor with-
in the past 24 hours, and I had al-
ready studied those faces before in the
vague, shadowy hope of discovering a
friend. I lit another cigarro, out of
sheer nervousness, and sat silently
watching a Chinese attendant lighting
the colored lanterns suspended along
the balcony roof. A sudden rocket
went swiftly and sizzling up from out
the center of the great plaza below,
and my eyes followed its swift flight
into the black sky until it burst into
a thousand miniature stars.
When I turned once again, now half
inclined to beckon a waiter and order
the serving of dinner, a newly arrived
company of guests had taken posses-
sion of the small round table just
within the open window. Three were
In the party, apparently father, moth-
er and daughter, beyond question of
high social class. Paterfamilias, sit-
ting in stately dignity at what might
be considered the head of the board,
a broad napkin spread across his right
knee, was typically aristocratic, of
spare figure, stern lean face, with Iron-
gray hair, and mustaches trimmed to
perfect point, his eye3, cold and
emotionless, gleaming like steel points
behind gold-rimmed glasses—a man
certainly over 60, possessing to the
extreme that irritating hauteur pos-
sible only to an Englishman of recog-
nized family and position. The lady
occupying the seat opposite him, whom
I naturally presumed to be his wife,
was fleshy enough to own an ample
double chin, which drooped to a vaster
expanse below; most expensively
gowned, her fingers laden with dia-
monds, and a lorgnette at her eye,
through which she deliberately sur-
veyed the assembled company. Her
evident attempt at duplicating the
calm haut-ton of her emotionless com-
panion was nevertheless somewhat of
a counterfeit, as it failed to conceal
wholly a slight twinkle of amusement
curving the corners of her mouth, and
a certain slight "vulgar uneasiness of
manner. His ideal was evidently that
of a marble statue, cold, immaculate,
his slightest movement revealing the
frigidity of one born to the purple,
while my lady retained some sem-
blance to flesh and blood, although
well veneered by long social artiflco.
He was nature, while she had evident-
ly been developed by skill; yet the
matron, to my thinking, proved far the
more interesting specimen of the two.
I must confess, however, wasting
precious little attention upon either,
for my eyes early rested upon the
younger woman seated between the
two, and hence directly confronting
me. I will not say I never saw a fair-
er picture of womanhood just when
the lovely flower becomes a blossom
fully blown, yet assuredly none other
ever possessed for me the same in-
definable fascination, the same in-
effable charm. Twenty-two, possibly,
although her age was difficult to guess,
with oval face and clear, fresh skin,
the rich, red blood of perfect health
crimsoning the rouflded cheeks; eyes
of deepest, darkest gray, the kind of
eyes pledging a thoughtful soul be-
hind to yield them such rare power of
expression; a face reflecting the joy
of living, yet responsive, and, in mo-
ments of quietness, saddened beyond
Its years; an entrancing dimple visible
in the rather broad chin; the lips
moist and rosy with health, sufficiently
parted to reveal a tantalizing glimpse
of white, regular teeth behind; the
forehead low and broad, the wealth of
shadowing hair of darkest brown, yet
with an odd gleam of reddish gold
causing the gathered masses to seem
an aureole of beauty. But it was not
the outward face alone, nor any com
bination of pleasing features, which
yielded such rare and indescribable
charm—it was rather a distinct and
unusual personality which gave to
these both life and attractiveness. Her
slightest glance or movement, natural
and unaffected, seemed a new revela
tlon of self, the outer expression of a
secret inward life which I instinctively
longed to penetrate, the guarded mys
tery of which was invitation.
The three conversed little, speaking
English with that lack of restraint
common to those who have been ac-
customed to having discreet servants
behind their chairs, the man grum
bling icily over the quality of food fur
nished and the Indifferent service, my
lady commenting with audible distinct-
ness on the personal appearance of
the various people present, the girl
contenting herself with an occasional
monosyllable when directly addressed.
I dispatched my own order, and, while
idly waiting the return of the servant,
had my attention attracted toward a
group gathered about a second table
just beyond the one occupied by the
English family party.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Getting Along All Right.
A young Japanese in one of our In-
stitutions of learning, having ac-
quired a very good knowledge of Eng-
lish, went out to deliver a lecture in
that language. On his return, says
the Hartford Courant, one of the in-
structors asked if he had a pleasant
time. He replied: "Yes, very."
"How did you get on with the lec-
ture?" "Oh, quite well, but the audi-
ence smiled at some things when I
could see no jokes." "Could you give
me an instance?" "Well, I opened my
lecture by saying that although I was
new in English language I thought I
could deliver the goods; and they all
smiled." Now, doubtless the audience
smiled at what they thought was the
ready way in which a foreigner had
adapted a bit of American slang; but
he did not understand the smile be-
cause he thought he was speaking
good English.
Homage to Brawn.
The triumphs of the scholar the pub-
lic regards as individual; the prowess
of the athlete is popularly held to es-
tablish the name and fame of his col-
lege. Of course, this is unreasonable,
for the reputation of a university as
an institution of learning should de-
pend upon the liberal education she
gives to those within her gates. But
it Is quite true that, despite the excel-
lent reasons why it should not do ao,
the public continues to pay homage to
brawn rather than brain, in so far as
ihe undergraduate is concerned.
The Passion Flower.
The lovely Passion flower takes Its
name on account of Its characteristics
which symbolize the circumstances of
our Lord's death and pastion. The
leaves represent the spear, the ten-
drils the cords with which he was
scourged, the ten petals the ten apos-
tles who deserted him, the central
pillar the cross, the stamens the
hammers, the styles the nails, the in-
ner circle round the center the crown
of thorns, the white hue of the flower
is typical of innocence, and the blue
shade a symbol of heaven. The fact
that the Passion flower remains open
for only three days and then dies,
represents the death, burial and resur-
rection of our Lord.—Home Notes.
Send for the S. P. C. C.
A "Young Mother" asks our opinion
of "the alleged injurious effect* of
rocking on babies."
We must frankly say that we con-
sider it a brutal practice. As the
father of a great many babies, of all
ages, we never rocked on any of
them intentionally, and we would
probably be arrested if we expressed
our full opinion of any woman who
would presume to do .go.—Lippincott's
Magazine.
Proving It.
"You say women are smarter than
men?
"Upon what grounds do you base
your opinion?"
"Look at the number of men they
have married.
DEVELOPMENT OF
CENTRAL CANADA
THE STORY CF BIG YIELDS OF
GRAIN COMES FROM EVERY
SECTION.
When the man in the States was
told that he could get 160 acrcs of
land in Central Canada—comprising
the provinces of Manitoba, Saskatche-
wan and Alberta—that under cultiva-
tion would produce from 20 to 30 bush-
els of wheat to the acre, or if seeded
to oats the yield would be 40 to 60
bushels, he was skeptical. The same
Btory was told the man who wished to
get nearer to existing linos of rail-
way, and was only asked to pay $10
to $12 an acre. But many tried it,
some one plan and some another. The
man who accepted the 160 acres as a
free gift, as a homestead, and was
willing to put in the required resi-
dence duties of three years has now
a farm worth from fifteen to twenty
dollars an acre. The man who choso
to purchase, and did so, took up his
residence just the same. He has land,
that, in many cases, is worth twice
the money he paid for it. Both havo
found that the story of splendid yields
was verified. They have had crops
exceeding that promised; they have
seen oats that yielded 100 bushels to
the acre, and have grown wheat that
averaged 40 and as high as 50 bushels
to the acre. Their wheat was not a
67 lb. to the bushel article but 62 and
63 lbs. They have seen within the
past year or two trunk lines of rail-
way constructed through their district,
and throwing out branch lines to the
gates of their farm. They have seen
Bchools established in their neigh-
bourhood and the Government con-
tributing largely to their expense.
Churches have been erected, villages
have been established, towns have
sprung into existence and cities are
rapidly springing up, as if the magic
hand of some unseen conjurer was at
work. But it was not; it was the le-
gitimate offering of the wealth of the
field which made all these things come
about, naturally, and easy. The prai-
rie that three years ago was merely
prairie, a patch of brown, just waiting
for the ploughman, is to-day dotted
with tilled farms and splendid homes.
The line of elevators with their glis
teuing metalled fireproof sides and
roofs, indicate the location of the
town and the railroad. There is the
glow of newness about it all, but the
elevator, the splendid store buildings
and the comfortable hostelries denote
wealth, beyond that of the strength
of the man who fashioned and built
them but the wealth of the soil, which
means that the newness will be fol-
lowed by a steady growth. The writer
recently was a passenger over the
Grand Trunk Pacific, the latest fac-
tor in this great marvelous field of
development. The rapidity with which
towns were being built up, the farm-
steads occupied, was something even
his experienced eye had not looked
for. Everywhere along the line of
this new transcontinental was the dis-
tinguishing mark of progress. There
was not a mile of the length of the
road from Winnipeg to Edmonton and
west that did not bear token of its
ability to pay tribute to the revenue
of the road. Mention is made of this
line, not because it is the last in
the field, but because it is one of the
best built roads on the Continent and
traverses one of the best districts
of an excellent country. It is well
operated, and already has gone into
active service as another means of
making it possible to secure more
speedily transit from the grain fields
to the shipping centres. It had been
the Intention in this article to have
spoken of some of the yields of grain
that have made the farmers of Cen-
tral Canada contented this year, but
space will not permit, so that delight-
ful task will be taken up in another
issue. In the meantime it would be
well for the reader, if he is interest-
ed, to put himself in touch with some
official of the Canadian Governmenl
and get Information that might be use
ful in making a selection for a home
in Central Canada, and become one
of those who will be instrumental in
building up a great country to the
north. In doing so, you will be as
Bistlng the United States. In a few
years' time the United States will be
a wheat importer. Canada will sup
ply the wheat and you will be one oi
the producers.
Changed.
"He used to kiss me every time we
passed through a tunnel before our
marriage," saW the little woman, witb
sad reflections.
"And does he do so now? "asked the
bosom friend.
"No, he fakes a drink."
Clear white clothes are a sign that th«
housekeeper uses Rod Cross Ball Blue.
Large 2 oz. packagc, 5 cents.
The more talk it takes to run thinga
tbe Blower they tnovo.
Hi-. Pterco's plrisart PelWs euro constipation
Constipation is thn cans* of many rllscusi s. Cim
til* cau e .iiid you euro 1 lie dlicasc. Ka;y to take
When some peotle talk it is a waste
of time to yawn.
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The Mooreland Leader. (Mooreland, Okla.), Vol. 7, No. 39, Ed. 1 Friday, December 31, 1909, newspaper, December 31, 1909; Mooreland, Oklahoma. (https://gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc158349/m1/4/: accessed March 29, 2024), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, https://gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.