West Wind Drift | Page 3

east and looked to the north, where lay the hitherto ignored
and sometime hated continent whose middle usurped the word
American. A sea voyage in these parlous days meant but one thing to
the people of South America: a visit to an unsentimental land whose
traditions, if any were cherished at all, went back no farther than
yesterday and were to be succeeded by fresh ones tomorrow. At least,
such was the belief of the Latin who still dozed superciliously in the
glory of his long-dead ancestors. Not having Paris, or London, or
Madrid, or Rome as the Mecca of his dreams, his pilgrimage now
carried him to the infidel realities of the North,--to Washington, New
York, New Orleans, Newport and Atlantic City! He had the money for
travel, so why stay at home? He had the money to waste, so why not
dissipate? He had the thirst for sin, so why famish?
There were lovely women on board, and children with and without the
golden spoon; there were men whose names were known on both sides
of the Atlantic and whose reputations for integrity, sagacity, intellect,
and,--it must be confessed,--corruptness, (with the author's apology for
the inclusion); doughty but dogmatic university men who had
penetrated the wildernesses as naturalists, entomologists, mineralogists,
archaeologists, explorers; sportsmen who had forsaken the lion,
rhinoceros, hartebeest and elephant of Africa for the jaguar, cougar,
armadillo and anteater of South America; soldiers of fortune whose
gods had lured them into the comparative safety of South American

revolutions; miners, stock buyers and raisers, profiteersmen, diplomats,
priests, preachers, gamblers, smugglers and thieves; others who had
gone out for the Allies to buy horses, beeves, grain, metal, chemicals,
manganese and men; financiers, merchants, lawyers, writers, musicians,
doctors, dentists, architects; gentiles and Jews, Protestants and
Catholics, skeptics and infidels,--in short, good men, bad men, beggar
men, thieves.
The world will readily recall such names and personalities as these:
Abel T. Landover, the great New York banker; Peter Snipe, the novelist;
Solomon Nicklestick, the junior member in the firm of Winkelwein &
Nicklestick, importers of hides, etc., Ninth Avenue, New York; Moses
Block, importer of rubber; James January Jones, of San Francisco,
promoter and financier; Randolph Fitts, of Boston, the well-known
architect; Percy Knapendyke, the celebrated naturalist; Michael
O'Malley Malone, of the law firm of Eads, Blixton, Solomon, Carlson,
Vecchiavalli, Revitsky, Perkins & Malone, New York; William
Spinney, of the Chicago Police force, (and his prisoner, "Soapy" Shay,
diamond thief); Denby Flattner, the taxidermist; Morris Shine, the
motion picture magnate; Madame Careni-Amori, soprano from the
Royal Opera, Rome; Signer Joseppi, the new tenor, described as the
logical successor to the great Caruso; Madame Obosky and three lesser
figures in the Russian Ballet, who were coming to the United States to
head a long-heralded tour, "by special arrangement with the Czar";
Buck Chizler, the famous jockey,--and so on.
These were the names most conspicuously displayed by the newspapers
during the anxious, watchful days and weeks that succeeded the sailing
of the Doraine from the port in the Tropic of Capricorn.
Dozens of cities in the United States were represented by one or more
persons on board the Doraine, travellers of both sexes who, being
denied the privilege of a customary dash to Europe for the annual
holiday, resolved not to be deprived of their right to wander, nor the
right to return when they felt inclined. Whilom, defiant rovers in search
of change, they scoffed at conditions and went their way regardless of
the peril that stalked the seas. In the main they were money-spending,

time-dragging charges against the resources of a harassed, bewildered
government, claiming protection in return for arrogance.
Far to the south, off the Falkland Islands, at the bottom of the sea, lay
the battered hulls of what ware supposed to be the last of the German
fighting-ships in South Atlantic waters. Report had it, however, that
several well-armed cruisers had either escaped the hurricane of shells
from the British warships, or had been detached from the squadron
before the encounter took place. In any event, no vessel left a South
American port without maintaining a sharp lookout for prowling
survivors of the vanquished fleet, and no passenger went aboard who
did not experience the thrill of a hazardous undertaking. The
ever-present and ever-ready individual with official information from
sources that could not be questioned, travelled with remarkable
regularity on each and every craft that ventured out upon the
Hun-infested waters. In the smoke-room the invariable word went
round that raiders were sinking everything in sight. Every ship that
sailed had on board at least one individual who claimed to have been
chased on a former voyage by a blockade-breaker,--(according to the
most reliable reports, the Germans were slipping warships through the
vaunted British net with the most astounding ease