Part 10 (1/2)

”And why do you think I haveto leave footprints on the sands of tihs ”Not at all To get it patented, to ht in while other men do the work That'sit out”

”The creative joy,” I ht to be called Which is another way of expressing the joy of life in that it is alive, the triumph of movement over matter, of the quick over the dead, the pride of the yeast because it is yeast and crawls”

I threw up my hands with helpless disapproval of his inveteratethe bed He continued copying lines and figures upon the transparent scale It was a task requiring the utmost nicety and precision, and I could not but adth to the fineness and delicacy of the need

When I had finished the bed, I caughtat him in a fascinated sort of way He was certainly a handsoain, with never-failing wonder, I remarked the total lack of viciousness, or wickedness, or sinfulness in his face It was the face, I a And by this I do not wish to be misunderstood What Icontrary to the dictates of his conscience, or who had no conscience I a for it He was a nificent atavism, a man so purely primitive that he was of the type that came into the world before the development of the moral nature He was not immoral, but merely unmoral

As I have said, in the masculine sense his was a beautiful face Smooth-shaven, every line was distinct, and it was cut as clear and sharp as a cameo; while sea and sun had tanned the naturally fair skin to a dark bronze which bespoke struggle and battle and added both to his savagery and his beauty The lips were full, yet possessed of the firmness, almost harshness, which is characteristic of thin lips The set of his mouth, his chin, his jaas likewise firm or harsh, with all the fierceness and indomitableness of theborn to conquer and coht have been Grecian, it ht have been Roman, only it was a shade too massive for the one, a shade too delicate for the other And while the whole face was the incarnation of fierceness and strength, the prireaten the lines of eness and completeness which otherwise the face would have lacked

And so I caught reatly the man had come to interest me Who was he? What was he? How had he happened to be? All powers seemed his, all potentialities-why, then, was he noschooner with a reputation for frightful brutality ast the men who hunted seals?

My curiosity burst from me in a flood of speech

”Why is it that you have not done great things in this world? With the power that is yours you ht Unpossessed of conscience or ht have mastered the world, broken it to your hand And yet here you are, at the top of your life, where di an obscure and sordid existence, hunting sea animals for the satisfaction of woishness, to use your oords, which is anything and everything except splendid Why, with all that wonderful strength, have you not done so that could stop you What rong? Did you lack ambition? Did you fall under temptation? What was the matter? What was the matter?”

He had lifted his eyes to me at the commencement of my outburst, and followed me complacently until I had done and stood before hih seeking where to begin, and then said:

”Hump, do you know the parable of the soent forth to sow? If you will remember, some of the seed fell upon stony places, where there was notup because they had no deepness of earth And when the sun was up they were scorched, and because they had no root they withered away And so up and choked them”

”Well?” I said

”Well?” he queried, half petulantly ”It was not well I was one of those seeds”

He dropped his head to the scale and resu I finished my work and had opened the door to leave, when he spoke to me

”Hump, if you will look on the west coast of the map of Norway you will see an indentation called Romsdal Fiord I was born within a hundred ian I am a Dane My father and ht of land on the west coast I do not know I never heard Outside of that there is nothing mysterious They were poor people and unlettered They caenerations of poor unlettered people-peasants of the sea who sowed their sons on the waves as has been their custoan There is no more to tell”

”But there is,” I objected ”It is still obscure to me”

”What can I tell you?” he dereness of a child's life? of fish diet and coarse living? of going out with the boats from the time I could crawl? ofand never came back? of e of ten on the coastwise, old-country shi+ps? of the rough fare and rougher usage, where kicks and bloere bed and breakfast and took the place of speech, and fear and hatred and pain were my only soul-experiences? I do not care to remember A madness comes up in my brain even now as I think of it But there were coastwise skippers I would have returned and killed when a th came to me, only the lines of my life were cast at the tio, but unfortunately the skippers were dead, all but one, a mate in the old days, a skipper when I ain”

”But you who read Spencer and Darwin and have never seen the inside of a school, how did you learn to read and write?” I queried

”In the English merchant service Cabin-boy at twelve, shi+p's boy at fourteen, ordinary seamen at sixteen, able seaman at seventeen, and cock of the fo'c'sle, infinite a neither help nor syation, mathematics, science, literature, and what not And of what use has it been? Master and owner of a shi+p at the top ofto diminish and die Paltry, isn't it? And when the sun was up I was scorched, and because I had no root I withered away”

”But history tells of slaves who rose to the purple,” I chided

”And history tells of opportunities that carireat men ever did was to knohen it careatly as the Corsican I should have known the opportunity, but it never ca up and choked me And, Hu man, except my own brother”

”And what is he? And where is he?”