shadows lengthening and fore-shortening monstrously, the thick air heavy
with smoke and the smell of bodies and iodoform, and the inflamed faces
of the men--half-men, I should call them. I noted Oofty-Oofty, holding
the end of a bandage and looking upon the scene, his velvety and luminous
eyes glistening in the light like a deer's eyes, and yet I knew the
barbaric devil that lurked in his breast and belied all the softness and
tenderness, almost womanly, of his face and form. And I noticed the
boyish face of Harrison,--a good face once, but now a demon's,--convulsed
with passion as he told the new-comers of the hell-ship they were in and
shrieked curses upon the head of Wolf Larsen.

Wolf Larsen it was, always Wolf Larsen, enslaver and tormentor of men, a
male Circe and these his swine, suffering brutes that grovelled before
him and revolted only in drunkenness and in secrecy. And was I, too, one
of his swine? I thought. And Maud Brewster? No! I ground my teeth in
my anger and determination till the man I was attending winced under my
hand and Oofty-Oofty looked at me with curiosity. I felt endowed with a
sudden strength. What of my new-found love, I was a giant. I feared
nothing. I would work my will through it all, in spite of Wolf Larsen
and of my own thirty-five bookish years. All would be well. I would
make it well. And so, exalted, upborne by a sense of power, I turned my
back on the howling inferno and climbed to the deck, where the fog
drifted ghostly through the night and the air was sweet and pure and
quiet.

The steerage, where were two wounded hunters, was a repetition of the
forecastle, except that Wolf Larsen was not being cursed; and it was with
a great relief that I again emerged on deck and went aft to the cabin.
Supper was ready, and Wolf Larsen and Maud were waiting for me.

While all his ship was getting drunk as fast as it could, he remained
sober. Not a drop of liquor passed his lips. He did not dare it under
the circumstances, for he had only Louis and me to depend upon, and Louis
was even now at the wheel. We were sailing on through the fog without a
look-out and without lights. That Wolf Larsen had turned the liquor
loose among his men surprised me, but he evidently knew their psychology
and the best method of cementing in cordiality, what had begun in
bloodshed.

His victory over Death Larsen seemed to have had a remarkable effect upon
him. The previous evening he had reas