In the spring of 1919 came the stories of gold in Northern Siberia. With high hopes of fortunes to be made, the Northern Mining and Trading Company sprang into existence, and the Casco was chartered to dare the far Northern seas and icy gaps.
So she died at sea, as all good ships should, with the storm at her back and the mists over her, with snow as a shroud, and brooding icebergs to mourn. She lies cold and stately, with her memories of tropical splendor, high adventure, and light romance—this little ship whose cabin knew Stevenson.
PORTRAITS FROM STEVENSON
by
George Steele Seymour