<h2 class="illo"> MAROONED </h2>
<p>It was midsummer and the city sweltering
in an overpowering heat wave, but in the country
there were cool retreats and a fulness of
verdure that were calling with enticing insistence
to all the suffering city-bound folk to come to their
bounty and rest. To one weary country-bred
woman, the alluring summons sounded clear with a
healing message to her tired nerves and jaded
brain. It was the seductive call of the big blue
sky and the pure air of her own old-fashioned
country home, and her whole soul responded with
an intense longing. But she was one of the city's
plodders, chained by the inevitable to the treadmill,
and she could only picture in her hopelessness
what such happiness might be, by straining her
misty eyes in memory to years gone by.</p>
<p>She stood by the one window of her own room
in that big lonesome boarding house, apparently
gazing idly out on the bit of sun-baked street her
limited view commanded, but she had closed her
eyes and was totally unmindful of the last hot
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name='Page_78' name='Page_78'>[78]</SPAN></span>
slanting rays. Her whole being was enthralled
by that "back home" call that was stirring her
heart. She was so utterly tired of the heat of
walls and pavements and the city's seething rush
and endless clang, that her eyes and brain seemed
bursting and her very soul cried out for that restful
spot in the country she still called home. She
knew how sweet and still the misty woods were
"back there" in the soft twilight of this hour, and
how the air was damp and fragrant with the scent
of the tangled undergrowth. In homesick longing
she recalled the blessedness of the evening glow
of the setting sun trembling upon the hills of
this girlhood's home in its parting benediction,
leaving a sabbath-day stillness on all the
land. She could still hear the musical tinkling
of the bells on the lowing cattle, as they ambled
home from the pasture, in the lengthening
shadows, filling the air with the rich warm breath
of the hot clover they had been feeding on. These
homey, country memories were like a fresh delightful
breeze blowing on her burning heart and
opened up entrancing visions which stretched far
back to happy days when there had been plenty,
and no need of battling with the struggling crowd
of the city.</p>
<p>Under the thrilling delight of these crowding
memories, she was for a few blessed moments
transported to this home of her desire, and the
sweetness of it nearly broke her heart. With a
sigh, however, she remembered the present and
the throbbing glare of her surroundings, realizing
how worse than foolish and how hopeless was her
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name='Page_79' name='Page_79'>[79]</SPAN></span>
discontent with things "that are." Impatiently
she lifted the heavy hair from her hot forehead
and winked back the stinging tears, and was just
about to turn resolutely from the window to take
up the practical things of life, with a brave make-believe,
when she caught sight of two big, round,
gleaming eyes looking up at her from the dejected
little garden beneath her window. There was
nothing very striking or attractive about these
eyes except their resolute intensity, and that they
belonged to a very small cunning kitten, sitting
with all four paws tucked under his body and his
tail wrapped neatly about him, patiently gazing
up at the window with concentrated wistfulness,
hoping for recognition. As he caught the lady's
tardy glance, he gave a cordial and friendly mew
without moving a muscle of his body and, as there
was no response, another mew. This time the
lady, longing for the companionship of anything
alive, could not resist a grateful and hearty return
of his friendliness, and throwing the window
wide open, she invited him to enter. Instantly,
with a clever spring and a curious twist of his
legs, he landed on the window ledge, clear of the
garden below, and was caught, with a soft little
cry and cuddled tight with the warm downy fur
against her cheek, in a frenzy of overwhelming
delight.</p>
<p>Every one knows that a city boarding house
is no place for pets, and in this particular one
there was a law, as of the Medes and Persians,
rigid and inflexible, that there should be no dogs
or cats. So it was with a guilty, beating heart
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name='Page_80' name='Page_80'>[80]</SPAN></span>
that she revelled in even these few stolen moments
with this dear little comforter that carried her
back to the days of her youth and the days when
there were always cats—and cats aplenty. When
she released her little visitor from her arms, he
sniffed about the room, reconnoitering every nook
and corner, as is the fashion of cats, and after a
thorough and careful inspection of everything,
settled down with a mew of approval into his
favorite position of rest, all four paws under him,
having evidently decided to stay. But the lady
knew, and feared, and confiding to him the restrictions
of the place, gently placed him on the window
ledge, telling him to scamper for his life into
hiding. He dashed away at breakneck speed and
the lady thought he was gone forever. But to her
surprise and delight, on returning to her room
after business hours next day, there was Mr. Kitty
sitting on the ledge outside her window, in his
favorite position of "warming his toes," as if by
previous arrangement. Of course he was invited
in, snuggled and fed. Fortunately the lady's window
was in the back of the house, in a rather
secluded corner, so she could carry on these
clandestine meetings without discovery.</p>
<p>It grew to be the regular thing, that the kitten
should be there each night, sitting just outside
the window like the Peri at the Gate, patiently
waiting for his lady's return. In this way he laid
such persistent siege to her heart that she finally
had to surrender, permitting him an established
place in her home and in her affections, but under
certain restrictions. Although there was the impassable
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name='Page_81' name='Page_81'>[81]</SPAN></span>
barrier of expressed thought between
them, he could look into her eyes and wistfully
divine her desire. In this way he quickly learned
that it was only in the evening that he could be
admitted into the brightness of her society, and
even then, only with the greatest caution. After
he had once grasped this mental warning he forever
after honored it with the most careful consideration.</p>
<p>An evening came when the tall, thin-faced captain,
with the winds of many a sea on his cheeks,
was in port, and the indulgement of his long-established
habit of calling on the lady in the boarding
house. The anticipation of these regular visits had
lain in the sturdy captain's heart until it had blossomed
into a cheering romance and he boldly
dreamed, during his lonely night vigils, of a possible
fireside that might sometime be kindled and
waiting to welcome him on his return from his
voyages. This little "comfort beacon" he was
building in his mind made his stays in this port
of great consequence to him. But the heart of the
lady was a port of happiness the captain had not
yet been able to invade as it was not a sailor's
life that the lady thought she would like to share.
Some day, somehow, she hoped to return to that
happy land in the country she remembered, where
she would pitch her modest tent and live forever
after, happier even than the proverbial fairies.
But the big, courageous captain was gentle and
generous in loving, and willing to wait.</p>
<p>On the captain's first call after reaching port
this time he found the kitten duly installed as a
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name='Page_82' name='Page_82'>[82]</SPAN></span>
permanent member of the evening circle, and on
account of the lady's evident partiality for her
favorite, he being always anxious to please her,
tried to make friends with him. To the lady's surprise,
the cat persistently eluded the captain's
demonstrative wooing. Perhaps it was instinct
that told him of a certain jealous impatience in the
captain's heart that he should be there taking so
much of the lady's attention; or perhaps it was
because the captain offended his dignity by teasing
him, in a friendly way, by pulling his tail; or
perhaps it was just because he called him
"pussy," which to any civilized cat must be rather
galling.</p>
<p>Anyway, they did not seem to get along together
at all nicely and on the captain's evenings
the cat developed a decided and hitherto unknown
kink in his temper. He would wait for and submit
like a gentleman to the captain's rough stroke
of greeting, but that was the limit of his politeness,
and any familiarity beyond this would bring a
wicked gleam to his sea-green eyes and an ominous
thud of his tail.</p>
<p>The lady felt their mutual irritation and thinking
to interest the captain in her pet and to smooth
their rather stormy friendship, told him of the
kitten's great fondness for water, a very unusual
trait in cats, as they generally dread getting even
their feet wet. She told how this cat really
dissipated in water, loving to play with the straggling
lengths of the garden hose and in the puddles
it made, often getting himself thoroughly
drenched, and sometimes even played at swimming
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name='Page_83' name='Page_83'>[83]</SPAN></span>
across a shallow pool until he came to some high
place where he could perch and dry his bedraggled
self. Having such a bond as their mutual fondness
for water, they ought by right to be the best
of friends, she said.</p>
<p>When the time came for the captain to sail
again, to the lady's great surprise, he begged her
to let him have the kitten for a passenger, telling
her that they needed a mascot on board ship. He
assured her that her "best beloved" had just the
special qualities to make a dandy sailor, and loving
the water as he evidently did, would doubtless
take kindly to the life.</p>
<p>The captain hesitatingly pondered in his heart
if the time were ripe to ask for another passenger,
the one in all the world whom he thought would
make life's voyage sweet and complete, but he instinctively
felt that the lady would not have it
that way, and in wisdom asked only for the cat.
Secretly she wondered why the captain had asked
for the company of the cat, as they plainly were
not greatly attached to each other, and selfishly
she wanted to keep this dear little friendly kitten
all to herself. Yet there was always the secret
of his unlawful transgression on forbidden territory
and the fear of discovery; and more than
all, the heartbreaking fact that time, over which
there was no control, would bring him the misfortune
of becoming just a big, homeless, skulking
city cat. These considerations, and a desire to
provide a good home for her pet far away, reconciled
her to the separation, although it gave her
a big heart-ache to think how she would miss him.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name='Page_84' name='Page_84'>[84]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>So it was arranged that the captain should
have his mascot. On the day of sailing the lady
herself took him to the ship, as she wanted to be
quite sure that he was carried aboard gently and
safely and that he was induced to stay there with
as little fright as possible. She was also glad to
give the captain this little flattering attention of
a last good-bye and <i>bon voyage</i>, which hint, if the
poor captain had not been too downcast at the
parting, might have made him feel that perhaps he
had been a little too timid in asking for only one
passenger. When at last she cautioned him,
with a pitiful little break in her voice, to have
patience and use only gentleness with this trusting,
helpless little shipmate she was so basely betraying,
it came near bringing about a climax. As
the devoted captain held her small hands clasped
tightly in his strong ones, a burning flood of love
flushed his cheeks under their coat of tan and
his snappy blue eyes blurred, as he solemnly
swore, in a voice not quite under control, that he
would be ever faithful to her admonition, to her,
to the cat and to anything she held dear. Had
there been time, in his almost overpowering
emotion, the candid mariner might then and there
have ventured his fate. However, the tension of
the instant passed, and in the confusion of the last
few moments there was not again time or opportunity
for tender words, especially as the lady's
whole attention seemed taken up with the cat and
in solicitous anxiety as to whether he would be
contented and develop a liking for skippers and a
skipper's life. So in the final moment of clashing
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name='Page_85' name='Page_85'>[85]</SPAN></span>
bells, splashing hawsers and the settling down
of the engine to real business, the last flickering
farewell was only a quick grasp of hands, which
somehow seemed to carry with it a new hope, and
the call of "all ashore," left the captain's heart
still fluttering with only the next time to look forward
to.</p>
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="i113" id="i113"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/i-113.jpg" width-obs="530" height-obs="304" alt="" /> <p class="caption">MAROONED<br/> <span class='smcap'>Neither<br/> Disappointment<br/>
nor<br/>
Ugly Temper<br/>
Had Broken<br/>
His Fierce Sense<br/>
of Injury or<br/>
His Indomitable<br/>
Spirit</span></p>
</div>
<p>It was a very sullen kitten that the lady had
left on the lower deck after the last desperate
squeeze she had given him. As she turned to take
her last look back, there he sat on his haunches,
as motionless as an Egyptian mummy, amid his
new surroundings, but game, maintaining a lofty
dignity to the last in spite of perplexity, dismay
and wrath.</p>
<p>As the great ship swung clear of the pier and
turned her clean-cut prow toward the mists of the
ocean, the lady wiped the blinding tears from her
eyes and waved her handkerchief bravely as a
last admonition to the cat, and in adieu to the
captain, who was now in command, alert and busy,
all sentiment forgotten.</p>
<p>All on board a sailing vessel, from the captain
down, love pets of every kind, but during the first
hours of the ship's getting under way, when all is
confusion and bustle and everybody busy with the
ship's important affairs, there is no time for
trifles. Naturally the new passenger was forgotten
for the time being and left to his own devices
and for the ocean to do its own work with
him, in its own way, until things had settled down
into the daily routine. When this time arrived,
the cat was past all overtures of any kind and
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name='Page_86' name='Page_86'>[86]</SPAN></span>
occupied exclusively with his own resentment, the
anger of his betrayal having by this time entered
too deeply into his being for him to accept any
kind of peace-offering. He was insensible to all
caresses and disdained all offers of friendly acquaintance,
and from the rank rebellion brooding
in his gloomy, unforgiving eyes, it was plainly
evident that he was not enjoying his ocean trip.
Although he had soon found his sea legs, he had
also found <i>en route</i> a very wicked temper in thinking
over the injustice of the situation, shanghaied
and deserted in this heartless manner.</p>
<p>The men, now that they had the time, tried in
every way to make up to him but coaxing of all
kinds proved of no avail, the awful bitterness of
his injury making him immune to any sort of cajolery,
and he treated them all with a calm and persistent
air of scorn. They tried to tempt him with
every kind of cat dainty, but in an attitude of sullen
hostility he would have nothing to do with them,
venting his ill-temper on all alike and confining
his dependence in the eating line to the cook, who
merely threw him scraps. His angry resentment
was too deep and too hopeless for any comforting;
he merely wanted to be let alone, if he was doomed
to stay in this dungeon, and to live his own sullen,
desolate life, in resenting <i>everything</i>.</p>
<p>His former freedom among gardens and roofs
made the limitation of even this big craft, a
miserable home for one of his outdoor habits,
and although he had all the ship's mice for
diversion, there was time and time for thoughts
deep and resentful. As he was unconfined
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name='Page_87' name='Page_87'>[87]</SPAN></span>
and had full range of the ship, on an early tour of
investigation he discovered a porthole, always
open to the sun in possible weather, which seemed
to attract him, as a light will draw a traveler,
lost in the dark. This he decided on as his favorite
resting place during the day and the sailors, knowing
that he had become fully accustomed to the
monotonous swaying of the boat, and in consideration
of his strong prejudices, let him take
possession undisturbed. Here he would sit and
"let his mind work" in brooding abstraction,
gazing by the hour in wide open revolt at the
gray blankness of the sea, too dreary and hopeless
to sleep. Perhaps it reminded him of other times
and of another window where he had been wont to
sit in happy anticipation of the coming of his
lady. However it was, this window had a strange
fascination for him and day after day, when he
was not roaming drearily about the ship, he would
sit here, a sad still-life study. With wide, unwinking,
gloomy eyes, hour by hour he would follow the
broad expanse of the desolate waves to the empty
horizon, eating his homesick heart out in grim
endurance of his fate.</p>
<p>One awful day he was caught unawares and his
career came near ending tragically. The ship,
without the slightest warning, made a sudden lurch
and he was unceremoniously tumbled out of his
resting place with a splash, into the waves that
were racing along the smooth black sides of the
ship. An alarm was immediately given and in five
seconds everyone on board knew what had happened.
The captain received the information with
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name='Page_88' name='Page_88'>[88]</SPAN></span>
a few sailor expletives, nautical and to the point,
and growled something about "not being worth
it," but ordered "all hands to the rescue," and
the middies responded valiantly. One, more venturesome
than the rest, without pausing to count
the odds, stripped and leaped boldly into the dangerous
depths. The rest of the crew hung breathless
over the rail, watching their comrade make his
desperate struggle with the buffeting waves, which
sucked at every ounce of his youthful will and
strength. There was an instant of sickening suspense
when he sunk straight down clear out of
sight. But quickly his head shot up again above
the swirl of water and as he shook the brine from
his nostrils and eyes and struck out powerfully
with his arms, there was seen between his teeth
the motionless cat held fast by the neck. The small
boat was lowered and the hero was picked up and
helped aboard.</p>
<p>The cat did not show a symptom of life, as they
laid him on the warm sunny deck and applied
"first aid," and it looked for a time as if the
shock to his nerves and the long salt bath had done
their worst. But the determined mettle of this
hard-shell spirit was not so easy to extinguish
and as life surged back into nerve and muscle, and
he struggled back to consciousness, they found
he was there with all of his nine lives wide awake
and still in good working commission. One would
have thought that after such an appalling doom
had all but closed in on him, he would have appreciated
his good luck and the true value of
having such heroic comrades, and would have
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name='Page_89' name='Page_89'>[89]</SPAN></span>
shown some thankfulness for the risk one of them
had run to save his life. On the contrary, although
he had learned to keep away from the porthole,
a deeper gloom than ever settled upon him, and,
taking this unfortunate accident as an added insult,
he treated them all with more than his usual
scorn.</p>
<p>The cat's peculiar characteristics of temper
made him not only marked, but famous. The very
independence and aloofness of his dull life made
him tantalizingly popular with the young fellows,
and in their leisure hours they were continually
seeking him out to pass the time. They thought
it great fun to tease him to furious anger and
then laugh at his quivering rage, but after they
had had enough of this kind of entertainment they
would never let him go back to seclusion without
trying their very best to coax him to good temper.
They never succeeded in this commendable purpose,
however, even with the most heroic efforts,
and would have hotly resented any insinuation
that their pastime might possibly be a cruelty.
The captain, too, was guilty of loving to display
the cat's tabasco-like temper, being quite proud of
the strong personality shown in one so ugly and
vicious and still one so delightfully entertaining.</p>
<p>During their ship's stay in an English port,
the captain entertained on board a brother officer,
whose ship happened to be in at this time, and
teasing the cat until he exhibited his fierce characteristics
was one of their chief after-dinner diversions.
The brother officer was very much entertained
by the captain's hospitable amusement
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name='Page_90' name='Page_90'>[90]</SPAN></span>
and took a greedy fancy to the insolence and hardy
independent ways of his extraordinary pet. He
liked the animal so much that he coveted the
mettlesome prize as one that would make things
lively in dreary hours, and begged the captain to
loan him for just one voyage; but the captain was
indignant at such a proposal and refused to consider
it for a moment. It would be breaking a
sworn and solemn covenant with his lady, and
besides, the cat was the pride of the whole crew,
notwithstanding their raillery, and he, and in fact
all on board ship could not get along these days
without this important member of their mess, who
was getting more disagreeable and interesting
every day. Shameful as such baseness was, the
brother officer watched his chance, and as his ship
was to sail first, he had the advantage. The captain
was wholly unsuspicious of his friend's secret
intention and the first intimation he had of his
treachery was when he went on deck to wave him
farewell. As the brother officer's ship sailed majestically
by the captain saw him, evil and smiling,
on the bridge, and as he returned the captain's
salute, he lifted the stolen cat in triumph in his
arms. The captain stood rigid, the dark blood
creeping into his tanned cheeks and leaping to his
brain, while his keen eyes narrowed and scintillated
with the glitter of cold steel as he watched
the ship sail slowly past.</p>
<p>To this masterful seafarer, there was no sense
of humor in the childish joke his facetious friend
had played on him. At the moment he was too
angry for his whirling brain to think out any
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name='Page_91' name='Page_91'>[91]</SPAN></span>
plan to avenge this malicious injury, but he had
always found himself commander in every situation
and his nature was not the kind to forget.
He swore with clenched teeth that he would get
even with this traitorous fellow officer even if it
cost him his life. The man was beyond reach of his
wrath and strong arm at present, as he was sailing
for distant shores, and with him the unfortunate
cat. But the captain would bide his time, his anger
growing with each hour, and there would surely
come a day of reckoning in which it would be
better for the officer had he never even dreamed
this "practical joke."</p>
<p>This strange cat, unfriendly and militant, that
had never shown affection for anyone since that
horrible day when he had been so cruelly deceived
by the lady on whom he had lavished his whole
heart, seemed despite his every effort, to make conquests
where he least desired and to be bound to
lead a sailor's life to the bitter end, in spite of himself.
This last outrage of fate roused him to desperation
and took all semblance of civilization
from his manner. It was war and no quarter from
henceforth, with all the world against him. Big,
strong, and full of salty battle, he certainly had not
been stolen for a pet, and it would have made
the lady weep could she have known the fate and
seen the warlike wreck of her once gentle friend,
although she would never have recognized in this
belligerent, savage old salt, the kitten she had
cuddled and loved.</p>
<p>These new sailor tormentors soon discovered
that one of the cat's diverting peculiarities was a
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name='Page_92' name='Page_92'>[92]</SPAN></span>
strong and expressed dislike to whistling. He
hated the shrill notes with a hate that made him
tremble and which seemed to rouse the very devil
in him. Even the lowest notes would wake him
from a sound sleep, and with angry, low, throaty
growls, which sounded remarkably like swearing,
he would make a sudden rush at the offender with
eyes that flamed green, and gleaming teeth set
as if he had a tigerish desire to spring at the man's
throat and settle for all past insults, then and
there. Once in the desolation of his soul, he <i>did</i>
bite fiercely at his tormentor's shoe; and it would
certainly have fared ill for any of them had he
dared make a determined attack.</p>
<p>But the sailors, finding sufficient entertainment
in the impotent, savage temper they were able to
rouse, bore no malice in their hearts nor any
animosity toward the cat for his violent dislike
of them. So when they had teased him to the
limit they would make all sorts of amends in
friendly overtures, which were met with snorting
scorn, and then indifferently allow him to go back
to hiding, in peace. It seemed nobody's special
mission to prevent this cruelty and the cultivation
of all that was brutal and ugly in the poor outraged
animal's nature or to see whether this continual
tormenting were a real agony or if his
habitual, infinite wretchedness were being made
greater than necessary. It was simply a thoughtless
love of diversion in which the helpless pay
tribute to power. So in misery the endless days
dragged into weeks and it seemed to the cat, so
sick of sea life and sea smells, as if the world would
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name='Page_93' name='Page_93'>[93]</SPAN></span>
never end. Although he was beginning to show
the wear of his long, dull, sullen revolt, neither disappointment
nor ugly temper had broken his fierce
sense of injury or his indomitable spirit. Helpless
as his position was, he never cowered before his
adversary, but ever maintained an air of cool contempt
and defiance, counting always on a chance.
Every day on board ship holds unknown possibilities
and always there is hope for those who
watch and wait, and the cat's weary rage was
waiting—slowly, silently, steadily,—but just waiting.</p>
<p>In the early spring, the ship ran into a rough
channel and fell on continued evil winds which at
last developed into a terrible gale. Wild, stinging
wisps of salty wind came roaring right out of the
north, flapping and bellying the sails and lashing
the ship about like a plaything in a fury of wind
and water, until, with rudder gone, totally disabled
and helpless, it was being sent with each
pounding breaker nearer and nearer the dangerous,
rocky shore. The only ones to witness the
screeching horror of this black night were two
helpless old lumbermen, who had been roused from
their sleep by the ship's signals of distress, and
had run down from their camp to the pounding
beach. But they were powerless to answer the
crew's beseeching cries or to help them in any
way, as they were alone in these wilds and had
no means at hand of rescue. Through the blackness
of the storm they could only imagine the distress,
as they heard the roar of the heavy black
demons, fighting the stubborn craft steadily with
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name='Page_94' name='Page_94'>[94]</SPAN></span>
wind and water as if it were an evil thing which
they were bent on destroying. At last, with terrible
strength, as if impatient of this impotent
play, the water rose in a tremendous wave, booming
like thunder, took the battered fighter in its
arms, lifting her high from the heavy sea, and
flung her pounding on a jagged rock that held and
crunched her with its cruel teeth like a hungry
beast, scattering the splinters far and wide. The
men, fighting to the end for their lives, were jerked
and flung about like chips, their screams and
prayers drowned in the roar and pounding of the
storm, until the greedy sea once again broke over
the rock and swallowed their screams and mangled
bodies in a swirl.</p>
<p>By daylight the storm was over and the sea as
calm as if there had been no tragedy, the
surf beating steadily on the rocky shore its
solemn requiem for its deadly passion of the
dreadful night. The angry tempest had done its
very worst and now the sun, so cruel in its brightness,
danced joyously over the shining water, showing
in the silver gray sheen of the sea the broken
hulk of the wreck still clinging to the bald rock
with but one sign of life. This was the rather
pathetic figure of the sailor cat, sitting with his
head high in the air, on one of the highest timbers,
well out of the water, sunning himself, his nostrils
dilating and swelling as they filled with
familiar land smells. His overwrought nerves
seemed wondrously calm under the harrowing circumstances,
and in fact, on close scrutiny, there
seemed to be a decided air of grim triumph in his
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name='Page_95' name='Page_95'>[95]</SPAN></span>
lonely figure seen silhouetted against the vast expanse
of blue sky and dancing waves. He had
discarded entirely his sullen manner and one
could almost see the hungry gleam of joy in his
wide-open, level eyes, as they looked and lingered
on the welcome sight of the beautiful world of
grass and green growing things so near. This
sweet and subtle fragrance blowing in his nostrils,
sent its solace straight to his embittered heart
and gave him the comfort and confidence that he
would soon be one of the little furry creatures
scampering in the woodsy haven. The steady
throb and creak of the horrible vessel was no
more, and he had at last been left free, once more
to work out his own destiny, and his heart, in
spite of his unmoved exterior, was thumping in
triumph, and his whole body tingled with excitement.
How delightfully safe, and steady, and
firm, the cool retreats of this forest world looked
to his sea-sick eyes! And over all brooded an
enchanting silence, with no sound of everlasting
machinery, just an occasional sweetly tremulous
note from the blue above, and a chirp from the
depth and mystery of the pungent land fragrance
below, that could be heard above the heavy beating
of the surf.</p>
<p>His heart bounded in response to the possibilities
of this Promised Land of his long desire.
But there was a wide space of flashing, angry,
turbulent ocean between him and this secure,
friendly world of plenty and enticing sweet-smelling
shrubs: a hard problem and a fearsome risk
for an ordinary cat and a difficult one for even
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name='Page_96' name='Page_96'>[96]</SPAN></span>
this desperate creature with his fearless nature
and the proclivities of a duck. But in cringing
fear of some further stroke of relentless fate,
that might come along and rescue him enslaving
him for another dismal voyage of excruciating experience,
he determined not to be overtaken by
any such horrible doom, but to make that stretch
of water at any cost and to make it without delay.</p>
<p>He picked his way gingerly to where the
water washed the timbers, quivering with anticipation,
gathering all the strength of his big bones
and tough muscles for a leap to the shore rocks,
and then—hesitated! It was a deadly plunge and
his heart was doing double quick in fear, but the
compelling power of the near-by free range of
greenness, with its sweet breath of liberty, fired him
anew with the strength of despair. With a hoarse
cry, that seemed to come from the bottom of his
throat, and every muscle stiffened, in fierce recklessness
he at last launched himself into the
washing waves and all his whole-bodied, lusty
youth was put into the life and death struggle.
It is vouchsafed that some great mysterious power
shall watch over and guard helpless animals,
brave with desire, and it carried this stout heart,
that would have died but for it, straight to the
shore and back to the living fertile earth he loved,
to live his own free life once more in the shadow
of its satisfaction.</p>
<p>The cat had arrived in port at last and had
thrown off the fetters of his tragic fate forever,
going into the mystery of the wild, where no curiosity
can follow.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name='Page_97' name='Page_97'>[97]</SPAN></span></p>
<p class="center b15 p6">
MAIDA</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name='Page_99' name='Page_99'>[99]</SPAN></span>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name='Page_98' name='Page_98'></SPAN></span></p>
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