I have tried on several occasions to broach the subject of my
love to Lys; but she will not listen.
Chapter 7
October 8, 1916: This is the last entry I shall make upon
my manuscript. When this is done, I shall be through. Though I
may pray that it reaches the haunts of civilized man, my better
judgment tells me that it will never be perused by other eyes
than mine, and that even though it should, it would be too late
to avail me. I am alone upon the summit of the great cliff
overlooking the broad Pacific. A chill south wind bites at my
marrow, while far below me I can see the tropic foliage of Caspak
on the one hand and huge icebergs from the near Antarctic upon
the other. Presently I shall stuff my folded manuscript into the
thermos bottle I have carried with me for the purpose since I
left the fort--Fort Dinosaur we named it--and hurl it far outward
over the cliff-top into the Pacific. What current washes the
shore of Caprona I know not; whither my bottle will be borne I
cannot even guess; but I have done all that mortal man may do to
notify the world of my whereabouts and the dangers that threaten
those of us who remain alive in Caspak--if there be any other
than myself.
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