The Mystery of Pirate Island.

Evening Post, Volume LXXXV, Issue 33, 8 February 1913, Page 10

The Mystery of Pirate Island.

SoWed by MISS MARIE MABION, tho "Blade" Eeporter.

ttVill you go aloft, miss?" asked our ..kipper. "Pirate Island lies ahead?" 'I' countered. "You'ro right, miss—dead ahead," he answered, "and flyin' the Jolly Eoger, miss, as usual." i f cannot attempt to describe the feelings of mingled eagerness and timjitttty with which I climbed to the croWs nest. When the managing editor of tie Blade had asked me if I could cover the assignment I boastfully had replied, "I can cover anything !" But my . heart began to flutter, then to thump, then to pound fearfully, as I heard that'' Pirate Island was actually in eight. ' . . I \recalled, the first day I had left this 'too-ieoo-solid earth in taking my initial aeroplane flight. My heart was even mor<* filled with misgivings now. ' Itl was not that I was afraid to climb, or that in my aviation costume I found any " difficulty in following the captain up the ladder. It was simply that same feeling that shakes the pugilist before his ' battle, or sets the football player's muscles a-qiilyer before the great Thanksgiving, game. Once you are in. action it disappears. The minutes before 1 ' are the time of terror. Something of the calm beauty of the scene quieted my nerves a Trifc once I stood beside the captain and prepared to take my first look , through the binoculars at tho island that ,for three yaafs has set the vrorld of adventurers abtusz. The isle impregnable, forever - flaunting the Jolly Roger ! Where highpower lenses had discovered, at times, groups of men in the gaudy costumes of fch# ,piraies of the Spanish Main t Sde this picture with me : Below, on the- cleared 'deck of. the Intrepid, lies that, darling of my heart, a brshd ne*v hydroplane. On. on, stretches, n billowy colourful'sea, ending in a white liUfi^of surf beating on coral reefß ; then » tiny •siffeak' of greenish. > S> takft the binoculars', adjust them, ttna,&Utof'a*ttlur rises* a breakwater of fo&A'/a; siSv&ry; lagoon, a gleaming white antbgdlddn^ Beach,; brilliant green masses o^''VJbgetaiJipn," and, over ill, a tiny B<J^rV-6f.J[>liitek^with a white something aiMis'';f<3entre. ' ' ktt 'trotiblfeg ' m&v sometimes now to ultfeJfj&aWcf 'swtfyy bat;- -with that glance, gBTO v ;.VJa«' 'all pi my misgiving and iKftning femiisned but a. mad curiosity to s<so"on my, machine of -wonder, my marvfeMofig* mechanical flyiftg fish, across tho«a .billows and into the unknown. oee"mß,? See me n6w and sicken with etf#/jjOu ' stayiatr-homes, you who fear aJi/Weff to^ eat oysters— thinking of tyJSf^#'gerni^! I ride a flying fish, ■ tap! tftfeys my every desire. Men call itSs^Wawk'Me'' tod think to diminish tlwmm^^h^by, but to me it is a .creature Out 'of fairy tales, bearing me to wh^fc has brfen w«li called for its inaccessibility "tlia farthest corner of the * Wlu^r^siSipjS' could not. approach beeauli^m^^Halltfwness, J and my marvel fish ridel jauntily. Where small feoats could not live in treacherous currents and fearful thunderous surf— look !-- my fish turns bird, I mount, exult, flutter even in the salt spray of death, and then — - . Hid© trititnpb&nt, easily as in a rock-ing-chair, the placid --stiver w.ater o f t ne lagoon; glide to sflW'e'^t^p' fttitpreud,. flushed with excilemeo%\ find viat^ry. among sun-browned Jmbg^ , flfeniWil' pirate mojte&forgeoifs ' than any in a cmlePs ptctu^'Dook. ', -^ You wonder w»I f elf/no fear? Put yourself in tti&staice of. thdse- pofrr fellows, seeing a bird-fish ligfit upon their shimmering 'feea^fl^and.a-Jatigblng girl step out? I 1 - safer th^n any pedestrian on Market-stVeef, ' They were dumb with wonder. Their pipes fell out of their mouths. Titeipybottles of mm spiled on the. bealbii ' ,' Their cards and golden guineas and' dice were scattered and the mem" clutched) onr 'another in terror. ; F/ottaHndteed' I am to. be. able to re-j late'tlrat in 'this dramatic' moment I reJjjSiSgd£ : &^-pbsßesßioi{ enough -to take) half *a "doß'elii remarkable grafiex photo- 1 grjiphfi. The pirates fled and cried out m*tHd most pitiful accents— in English, T *ac delighted to not4— th»l> their'guns Jv^efeti't loaded, and thJtt'Ab'on© of tho JfriSw ever did a human being a nlite of /harm, and to 6pare them for the love o' Jfieftven. ■ k # put down.myi camera and gestured inißeTiouely. ', / jf ''Which 'of you is .leader V' 1 ' 1 cried. to A tall old gentleman clothed all in Wdck, wij;h knee breeches, a long epiketiailed coat," and a three-cornered hat making him conspicuous, advanced, j?rjdd and fear struggling convulsively ih liis facial expression, and h\s knees Kliodking together. - As their courage gathered, others followed him. ' -Surprising to relate, they were all old. (( sAll5 All but the leader wore picture-book •pirate clothes/ stuck as full of weapons JW a schoolgirls'' first bonnet is with hat.ptns. '', ''Jft began to be my turn to feel uneasy, though I hid all evidence of my *iale of mind. -; "Captain Jeffrey Guinea, mies— H , y^tiu service !'" saia the leader in a voice solemn as 'tho* tomb. \ He halted half a dozen paces from me and saluted. The othera promptly Saluted after him. ? Turning around, with a sudden in'gpiration, ho commanded : ' I'Now, boya, all together, a hearty hip-hip-hoora.y !" / X hadn't believed until this moment tfhyt such a thing as a hip-hip-hooray ever existed, b.ut they gave it, and waved their hata— those who had hats*post 'frantically. I sometimes speak in slang, wear my bonne« : tilted rakishly, and indulge in .fine- little frivolities of newspaperdom. > But before this curious, old-fashioned t fe«embly 1 began to feel as dignified as ,%1 1 were, say, a reporter for the staid, j'oad London Times. , Taking a memorandum pad from on© '<» my trousers' pockets, 1 began :— , ' "I bring to you, Captain Guinea, the compliment/* of the people of San i — -" I Ifc sounded so silly, though, that I *chopt>ed off and took a new etart. * 'Tin' Marie Marion of the San Fran/cisco Bladf. Tell me who v you are and you do, how became— er— — " . "Pirates !"~ Captain Guinea filled in. '■VHow you became pirates, and the mystery, of the ship in the lagoon that appears Mid disappears, and .1 won't bother ;rou any'iJiQre," lfinished, all in v breath. '-'All I want i» 40, cover the assignment arfd take * 'fey? snapshots. , • Like y^jUj t wouldn't flo arty harm 4 to -a soul." >■ ,- 1 • J **-S?ioM v see,, J ,afi I a.tudied<tbeir faces, I; nothing but believe wllat.they, said about .".leaning no harm..'.' Iti> fact, they were as genial a group of old gentlemen as ever told'th« story'of Cih,dftreUa< ito t » three-year-old . grandchild. If is a 'eofemn truth that they Were every .Wip.-drearnyeyed. and wistful. . fieally '&>tebl».!., Hoon enough, shall you sco why ; iso^&™s'* a >A<\)tueik'hoxit)d „che«t. and. j jretung. gbMeh guineas ruu through his

fingers as he talked, the captain told me his simple story. "Miss Marion, the world is prosy because when men grow up .they forget the ' ideals of their boyhood. The sea cries for sailors and there are few to answer, for men are in their countinghouses bending over double-entry ledgers. The army appeals for soldiers, but the men who ought to answer are scorning an adventurous thirteen-dollar-a-month job and are working at twentyfive dollars a week as travelling salesmen. Why? Simply because they have forgotten the ideals of their boyhood and have gone racing off in pursuit of dollar bills., Where are the boys who envied the thrills and spangles of the circus? They are selling men's furnishings on week da\« and pushing perambulators about the boulevards on Sunday afternoons. And where, oh where," (and tho voice rose to a frantic pitch of agony), "are the boys who longed to be pirates?" , I shook my head sadly. Indeed, I feel a little the came way about these matters myself. iHe broke off and drew himself to his full height, all the others scrambling to their feet and following his example. "Here, Mies Marion," he declaimed, with a proud gesture, "are a, few who have been faithful. We havo lived up to our first and brightest ideals. We ' are pirates! . ... Once we were merchants, brokers, farmers! and the like, but acquiring little fortunes that put us beyond the peril of want, we formed the 'Old Boys' Club,' talked things over, and then some twenty years ago, with j the aid of a little brig and a balloon, settled in this impregnable (until to-day) haven of the South Pacific. We went off of the ship in a. balloon, three by three, setting tho gas bag afloat again, chasing it with the ship, landing three more,*etting the bag afloat again. Finally we wrecked the ship, 'salvaged it when the driftwood eddied into the lagoon, and then put the good tub together again to scuttle." "To scuttle?" I repeated querulously? "Yes, indeed," he auswered, his eyes gleaming witlr enthusiasm as he explained. "We are respectable men. Wo wish no one harm. All we ask is freedom to play at being pirates. We scuttle the old ship and sink her for practice. We raise her again ,' scuttle her again. Thus we keep our hands in. " You will be interested to know, no doubt, that- we do many other things for just this reason. We burytreasure all over .the island and dig for it. We put notei in bottles and set them advift. 'We sit on seamen's* brass-bound chests and let pieces of eight run through our fingers. We drink diluted rum, play cards, spin yarns, have exercises in profanity, dance and sing wicked ballads— not because we are wicked at heart but because it's a genuine pleasure to keep in practice." Some of the men began to sing in close harmony^ Over-r-r th' ravin' main, Ta, da, te, de, dutn, dum ! Captain Guinea silenced them -with a perfect torrent of profanity. But to tell the truth, I didn't mind it at all, any more than if it were done in a play. Everybody seemetUto be so happy. I finished my questions, and the captain took his turn. I had to answer him a string of questions twice as long as I had inflicted myself. I explained the workings of the hydroplane, told of the new wonders of wifeless telegraphy, subways, motor-cars, and aeroplanes, sky-scrapers, and the feminists. I hope to devote to the meal we had the first of a series of articles on " How - Pirates -liiye^" so. L^hftll Hot dwell on anj^of its, points *o? interest further than | toM/Sflihiflend the. ftiied monkey and « 'paitieuhtrs flile rflih* omelet. { All afternoon we flaw the sights and' talked ; sometimes with your correspond i dent as the cross-exittrtinefj ' sometimes with the captain as the questioner. Then the sinking of the sun warned me that it was time to be getting back to the ship. I took no chances on being detained. The story for which the world has waited three years—or ever # since a half -wrecked Vessel sighted the island by accident — was in my possession, and it was my solemn dttty to delay no longer. What, t am itot ashamed to label as & brilliant inspiration flashed into 'my mind. "I'll teach you some new wrinkles," I proposed. . ' Everybody Welcomed the suggestion as heartily as if I had proposecf hideiandeeek to a picnic party. I taught 'them bridge and the turkey trot, while- 1 was about it and got some remarkably fine photographs. Then I paused and gazed intently into the captain's eager, kindly face. "It seems a pity— really a great pity," I murmured musingly. "But I don't suppose a gentleman in the party ever has tasted a gasoline ' cocktail. In tho old days, I understand, no one ever drank them." l tfc seemed a shame— but I couldn't take chances of being detained. ( "It's highly intoxicating as compared with temperance rutri," I added, for the adventure of the thing, if for no other reason, you all ought to liave a" swig. I warn you, probably you won't care for the. taste at first. It's an acquired habit, like caviare." Every, man was game, of course, and Came around holding out a flagon. I drew heavy draught* of gasoline from my hydroplane's reserve tank. One after another they drank, made grimaces, acquired paralysing jags, and flopped down dead drunk ati the sand. It was nft more elegant to see than it sounds. My conscience hurt me something awful, but it had to be done. When the last man dropped, I hopped into the hydroplane, glided ( over the lagoon, rose in a long, beautiful hurdle over the coral breakwater- — And here I am, awaiting another assignment ! — Charles Phelps Cushing, in San Francisco Argonaut.