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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Wide World Magazine, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
+other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
+the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
+www.gutenberg.org.  If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
+to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
+
+
+
+Title: Wide World Magazine
+       Volume XXII, January, 1909, Number 130
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: December 4, 2015 [EBook #50608]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WIDE WORLD MAGAZINE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Victorian/Edwardian Pictorial Magazines,
+Jonathan Ingram, Wayne Hammond, and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: “‘CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!’ CAME THE ANSWER FROM CUTLER’S
+GUN.”
+
+(SEE PAGE 319.)]
+
+
+
+
+THE WIDE WORLD MAGAZINE.
+
+  Vol. XXII.      JANUARY, 1909.      No. 130.
+
+
+
+
+The Beulah County “War.”
+
+BY H. M. VERNON.
+
+    One of the most striking characteristics of the Westerner
+    is the high regard in which he holds womankind. Even in the
+    roughest mining camps a woman is absolutely safe, and is
+    treated with a consideration unknown in many more civilized
+    centres. This remarkable story illustrates the Westerner’s
+    innate chivalry in a very striking fashion. Sooner than drag
+    the name of a young schoolmistress into a quarrel, a resident
+    of Three Corners, Montana, allowed himself to be made an
+    outlaw, and for weeks defied the population of a whole county
+    to arrest him, even when a field gun was brought out to shell
+    his fastness. How in his extremity the girl he had befriended
+    came to his rescue and put an end to this extraordinary “war”
+    is graphically told in the narrative.
+
+
+In the extreme western part of the State of Montana, U.S.A., in the
+County of Beulah, lies a little town called Three Corners. At first
+only a junction on the Rio Grande Railway, from which point countless
+thousands of cattle were shipped to all parts of the world, Three
+Corners grew to be a flourishing place. The wooden shanties, gambling
+“joints,” and dance halls gave way to brick buildings, several banks,
+a school, and other signs of progress, as respectable settlers moved
+farther toward the Golden West. Of course, a part of the old town
+remained, and with it a few of the characters typical of a Western “cow
+town.” Among these was a tall, raw-boned man who had drifted West in
+the ‘eighties, settling at Three Corners and opening a gambling-house.
+His name was “Jim” Cutler. He was a man of very few words, but with
+one great failing--he would shoot first and argue afterwards. Yet this
+gambler, who was known and feared far and wide as a “gun-fighter,”
+was at heart the mildest of men, beloved by all the children in the
+town, to whom he gave coppers galore. Furthermore, Cutler would put up
+with all manner of insult from a man under the influence of liquor,
+or from “Tenderfeet” who did not know their danger. Cutler’s shooting
+propensities were directed solely toward avowed “bad men” or those who
+delighted in being known as bullies. In the course of his altercations
+with such characters this tall, raw-boned man--who could, and did,
+“pull his gun” like a streak of lightning--added to the population of
+the local cemetery with a score of six.
+
+Among the new-comers to Three Corners during the rehabilitation of that
+town was a Hebrew named Moses Goldman. This man, a good-looking fellow
+of some twenty-eight years, hailed from New York. He opened a shop,
+and, with the business ability of his race, soon succeeded in making
+it the principal draper’s establishment of the place. Before long,
+however, reports began to circulate that the handsome young Hebrew was
+not quite so respectful in demeanour towards his lady customers as he
+should have been, and, although highly popular with a certain element,
+the major portion of Three Corners’ female population gave Goldman’s
+shop a wide berth.
+
+One Monday morning Jim Cutler, who had been up all night looking after
+the “game” in his establishment, was just leaving the place when a
+young woman, whom he recognised as the schoolmistress, ran up to
+him and said: “Oh, Mr. Cutler, would you mind walking as far as the
+school-house with me?”
+
+Cutler, somewhat astonished, did so, and was gratefully thanked for
+his trouble. After leaving her he walked slowly back to his rooms,
+wondering why he of all men should have been chosen to escort the
+pretty “school ma’am.”
+
+Some days afterwards Cutler, who passed the school on his way to and
+from the Gem Saloon (his place), saw the mistress deliberately cross
+the street just before reaching Goldman’s shop, and continue on her
+way on the other side. He also saw Goldman come to the door and try
+to attract the girl’s attention. When he reached Goldman, the latter;
+twirling his moustache, remarked, laughingly, “Shy girl, that, eh?”
+Cutler looked at the Hebrew for a moment, and then answered quietly, as
+he moved away, “She ain’t your kind.”
+
+Three weeks after this little episode there was a ball at the City
+Hotel, and, naturally, almost the entire youth and beauty of Three
+Corners “turned out.” The City Hotel was just opposite Cutler’s saloon,
+and at about one o’clock the gambler was sitting in a chair outside his
+place, listening to the music, when the schoolmistress and her mother
+left the hotel on their way home. A moment later a man also quitted the
+building and followed them. Presently he stopped the two ladies and
+attempted to converse with them. The younger of the women apparently
+expostulated with him, and then the two went on, leaving him standing
+at the corner. Cutler recognised the solitary figure as that of
+Goldman, the draper, and drew his own conclusions. Next morning Cutler
+made it his business to leave the Gem Saloon just as the schoolmistress
+was passing, and strode up to her.
+
+“Miss Thurloe,” he said, “you were stopped last night on your way home.
+Can I be of any assistance to you? I know you have only your mother to
+protect you.”
+
+The girl gave him a grateful look, and explained that Goldman had
+repeatedly forced his attentions on her. She had done her best to send
+him about his business, but he continually annoyed her, even going
+so far as to enter the school-house, interrupting lessons and making
+himself generally obnoxious.
+
+Cutler smiled grimly during the girl’s hesitating recital, saw her
+safely to her destination, and then went home for a sleep. At three
+o’clock that afternoon he walked leisurely towards the school-house,
+stopped at the fence just by the rear door, and chatted with the boys,
+it being the recess hour. Suddenly, approaching from the opposite
+direction, he beheld Goldman, who walked straight into the school-house
+without having seen the gambler. The latter waited for a few moments,
+then he also entered the building. Reaching the schoolroom, at the end
+of a short hall, he found the door locked, and promptly threw himself
+against it with all his strength. The door gave way with a crash and
+Cutler leapt in, to see the schoolmistress struggling in the arms of
+Goldman. She was fighting like a tigress, but the Jew’s hand, held
+tightly over her mouth, prevented her crying out. Directly Goldman
+beheld the saloon-keeper he released his prisoner, who sank back
+panting upon a chair, and glared savagely at the new-comer. Cutler,
+ignoring him entirely, walked slowly toward the agitated schoolmistress
+and stood still, waiting for her to speak.
+
+Goldman, however, was the first to do so. “Oh, no wonder I’ve no
+chance,” he burst out, viciously; “Cutler’s as lucky in love as he
+usually is at cards.”
+
+Cutler flushed at the gibe, but he said not a word, waiting for the
+girl to speak. Presently, having in a measure recovered herself, she
+rose and approached the gambler. “Mr. Cutler,” she said, unsteadily,
+“this man has insulted me repeatedly. Just now he tried to kiss me by
+force, and I’m afraid I shall have to give up my position here and
+leave Three Corners.”
+
+In a very gentle voice Cutler asked the girl to leave the room for a
+few minutes. After she had gone he turned toward Goldman, who stood
+looking at him defiantly, his arms folded across his chest.
+
+“If you were a man,” he said, sternly, “I’d drop you where you stand,
+but I’m going to teach you a lesson that’ll do you a heap of good.”
+Then, with a sudden bound, he grasped Goldman by the throat, threw him
+across a desk, and, with a three-foot ruler, administered a thrashing
+such as might be given to a recalcitrant schoolboy, only with somewhat
+greater severity. The punishment over, Cutler picked the man up and,
+dragging him across the floor, threw him bodily out of the building.
+Now Goldman was himself a powerful man, but Cutler’s action had been so
+swift and decisive that the Hebrew had practically no chance to offer
+resistance. Once freed from the gambler’s hold, however, he turned
+and flew at his adversary with clenched fists, snarling furiously.
+Cutler stood quite still, and just as the Hebrew came within the proper
+distance his right fist shot out straight from the shoulder. It landed
+square on Goldman’s jaw, and he dropped like a log.
+
+Several of the school-children, attracted by the noise, now crowded
+round, vastly excited. Cutler, having informed Miss Thurloe that he
+believed she would not be further annoyed, but that he would keep an
+eye on “that fool masher,” walked slowly toward the town, leaving the
+vanquished draper lying where he had fallen.
+
+It has been necessary to explain all this in order that readers of THE
+WIDE WORLD MAGAZINE unfamiliar with the ways of the Far West may better
+understand what follows. I have said that the better element had in a
+manner of speaking driven the original settlers at Three Corners to
+new fields. These new-comers looked upon Cutler as an “undesirable.”
+His reputation as a “man-killer” did not appeal to the emigrants from
+the cultured Eastern States, who would gladly have seen him pack up
+and leave the town. Goldman was quite aware of this, so, directly he
+recovered himself, he asked for and obtained a warrant for Cutler’s
+arrest on a charge of assault. The gambler was arraigned before the
+local magistrate, where he steadfastly refused to give any reason for
+the chastisement he had inflicted upon Goldman. The latter immediately
+realized the advantage of Cutler’s chivalrous reluctance to drag
+a woman’s name into the affair, and so swore that the assault was
+entirely unprovoked and committed out of “pure devilry” on Cutler’s
+part. Cutler was fined fifty dollars and severely admonished by the
+Court. Everyone wondered why this acknowledged “bad man” did not
+promptly wreak vengeance on the Hebrew. The gambler, however, desiring
+to protect the name of the school-teacher, said not a word, but paid
+the fine and went about his business as though nothing had happened.
+
+[Illustration: “HE ADMINISTERED A THRASHING SUCH AS MIGHT BE GIVEN TO A
+RECALCITRANT SCHOOLBOY.”]
+
+Some ten days passed, when, one moonlight evening, Cutler came driving
+down the road leading into Three Corners, behind a fast-trotting
+horse. Just as he reached the end of a long field of corn a report
+rang out and his horse dropped, riddled with shot. Cutler jumped from
+his buggy, whipped out his revolver, and made for the corn-field, from
+which the shot had evidently come. He made a thorough search, but
+the tall corn-stalks afforded a secure hiding-place to the would-be
+assassin--for Cutler had no doubt whatever that the shot had been meant
+for him. Reluctantly giving up his quest, he walked back to his saloon
+and sent several men to remove the dead horse and bring in his buggy.
+The next morning he again made his way to the corn-field, and there,
+just by the fence, he found five discarded cigarette ends of a very
+expensive Egyptian brand which he knew to be smoked by only one man
+in Three Corners--Goldman, the draper. Evidently the man had lain in
+wait for a long time. Cutler next climbed over the fence, and was about
+to return when he saw lying in the path a piece of cloth torn from a
+jacket, and on it a button. It looked as though the would-be murderer,
+in jumping the fence, had caught his coat on the barbed wire; at any
+rate, he had left a damning piece of evidence behind him. With the
+cigarette ends and the fragment of cloth in his pocket, Cutler walked
+leisurely up the road into the town and made direct for the shop of
+Moses Goldman.
+
+The draper was standing on a step-ladder arranging some goods on the
+shelves. When the door opened, ringing a small bell, he turned, and
+seeing Cutler jumped down from the ladder. The gambler looked the man
+straight in the eye. “You miserable cur!” he cried, angrily. “You’d
+shoot a man in the dark, would you?”
+
+Goldman, realizing that Cutler had satisfied himself as to the identity
+of his assailant, made as if to draw a revolver. That was the last
+movement he ever made, for the next instant he dropped dead, shot clean
+through the heart.
+
+The gambler waited for a moment to see if the report of the pistol had
+attracted any attention; then, as no one appeared, he quietly left
+the shop, went over to his saloon, placed two revolvers in his belt,
+and filled his pockets with ammunition. Then, taking up a Winchester
+repeating-rifle, he went to the stable, saddled his horse, and after a
+few words with his bartender rode out of Three Corners in a westerly
+direction.
+
+It was not long after his departure before the entire town was in
+an uproar. Moses Goldman, the energetic draper, had been found
+shot--killed in his own shop by Jim Cutler. The latter had been seen
+entering Goldman’s establishment by several persons, and the shot
+had been heard by people living above the store, who afterwards saw
+Cutler leaving. Sheriff Benson, accompanied by two deputies, promptly
+called at the Gem Saloon, but the officer was a trifle late, for Cutler
+was by that time some miles distant. Lest it should be thought that
+Cutler had made his escape through cowardice it may be best to explain
+at once, perhaps, that this was not the case. The man realized that
+should he be apprehended the name of Miss Thurloe must necessarily
+figure prominently in the matter. Strange as it may seem, this six-foot
+gambler, knowing no better, believed that by “making himself scarce” he
+was protecting that lady’s good name. This was a mistake, undoubtedly,
+but the fact remains that he made it.
+
+It happened that Rufe Benson, Sheriff of Beulah County, was a sworn
+enemy of Cutler’s, for the latter some years before had taken the law
+into his own hands and at the point of his gun liberated a prisoner
+whom he believed to be innocent, and who was eventually proved to be
+so. Benson now formed a posse of some twenty armed men, and there began
+a man-hunt which lasted, so far as this particular posse was concerned,
+for a fortnight. They were then reinforced by a body of “Rangers,”
+some fifty strong, who in turn found it necessary to call to their
+assistance a body of militia. All these officers were ably assisted by
+the citizens and residents of Beulah County, altogether some thousand
+strong, and yet Jim Cutler proved more than their match. Benson’s men
+trailed the fugitive to Kerry’s ranch, some six miles out; from here
+he had gone north-west toward the Rio Grande. He was mounted on a
+thoroughbred--as were all the men, for that matter--but six miles was
+a long start in a case like this, and should the hunted man once reach
+the mountains--well, there might be some trouble in getting at him.
+The telegraph was put into operation, and a circle some ten miles in
+circumference drawn around Cutler. When this cordon closed in, however,
+they failed to find the gambler amongst them, but they _did_ find two
+self-appointed “man-hunters” lying where they had fallen to the deadly
+aim of Jim Cutler’s repeating-rifle.
+
+From every town for miles around amateur detectives joined the hunt,
+but no trace could be found of Cutler beyond the Moulin River, a tiny
+stream only some twenty feet wide, so the rivulet was dammed and the
+water drained off for miles, so as to discover, if possible, whether
+Cutler had ridden up or down stream. While one party of men were doing
+this, others rode in all directions, searched the ranches, and notified
+every town by telegraph to keep a look-out for the slayer of Moses
+Goldman. More and more people joined in the hunt, but for some days,
+in the slang of the West, “there was nothing doing.” Then, early one
+morning, two horsemen came galloping towards Benson’s camp, and one of
+the men, dismounting, delivered a message to the effect that Cutler had
+been seen at McPherson’s ranch, some eleven miles north-west, where
+he had informed Mr. McPherson that he had not the slightest intention
+of taking further life unless driven to it, and that, if Benson would
+call in all his men, he (Cutler) would promise to give himself up in a
+fortnight’s time. (It was afterwards learned that he intended in the
+interval to communicate with Miss Thurloe and arrange a story, leaving
+her name entirely out of the matter.) Benson, however, was on his
+mettle, and so refused to parley with his quarry.
+
+“If Jim Cutler thinks he can defy the law and officers of this county,
+he is mightily mistaken,” he said, “and we’re going to take him, dead
+or alive.” This ultimatum duly reached Cutler through “non-combatant”
+friends, whereupon he smiled grimly. Being now outlawed, it was
+impossible for Cutler’s friends to assist him without making themselves
+amenable to the law, so the hunted man demanded and secured everything
+he required at the point of the pistol.
+
+Within fourteen days thereafter nine men who had attempted to interfere
+with the escaping gambler paid for their foolhardiness with their
+lives, and all the time, little by little, Cutler was getting closer
+to the mountains, whose shelter meant so much to him. Sometimes hidden
+for hours in a haystack, or lying flat under the rafters of a barn
+loft, the fugitive moved on his way. The main body of pursuers often
+got within gun-shot of him, but luck favoured the man, and he always
+managed to find cover just in time. Finally, completely worn out--he
+had ridden two horses to death and abandoned others commandeered for
+the time being--Cutler reached the foot of the scrub hills or little
+range which lay between him and his goal. Here, for the first time, he
+came in contact with a number of the “man-hunters.” “Lon” Masters--a
+noted character in Montana, and himself a dead shot--accompanied by
+eight cowboys, suddenly appeared over a rise in the ground. Cutler, on
+foot, saw them coming. He dropped on one knee and his rifle flew to his
+shoulder. The horsemen drew rein, and Masters, making a trumpet of his
+hands, shouted, “Don’t be a fool, Jim; you’re sure to be caught sooner
+or later. Let me take you, and I’ll promise no harm shall come to you.
+You know my word.”
+
+[Illustration: TABLE ROCK, CUTLER’S STRONGHOLD IN BEULAH COUNTY. _From
+a Photograph._]
+
+“Can’t do it, Lon,” Cutler shouted back. “If they give me ten days
+without interference I’ll give myself up--you know _my_ word.”
+
+“Jim,” responded Masters, “if you don’t drop your gun we shall have to
+fire.”
+
+“Crack! crack! crack!” came the answer from Cutler’s gun, Masters and
+two others of the party being hit. The remainder now urged their horses
+forward, but, as first one and then another rider was “winged” by the
+desperate man in front of them, the remainder decided that they had
+urgent business elsewhere, and rode back for reinforcements.
+
+At last, after a weary night’s climb, Cutler reached the place he had
+been making for. He had not slept more than an hour or two for days,
+and so, secure for a time at least--for no one could climb these hills
+quicker than he had done--the worn-out man dropped in a heap. Cutler’s
+hiding place was a barren ledge, some fifty yards in extent, the only
+approach thereto being the bridle-path by which he had come. Two, or
+at most three, at a time was the only formation in which his pursuers
+could get anywhere near him, and with Cutler’s knowledge of the use
+of firearms this was a ticklish undertaking, to say the least of it.
+Moreover, he could see anyone approaching along the valley for a great
+distance. There was plenty of water a little distance down the path,
+Cutler had sufficient food with him to last for a week, and he felt he
+could “make a get-away” during this time.
+
+The erstwhile gambler awoke when the sun was high in the heavens; he
+felt lame and sore all over. Walking towards the edge of the ledge he
+saw, away in the distance, a large party of horsemen spread out over
+a great area. Cutler went down the path, bathed his face and arms in
+the cool spring water, and took a long drink; then, returning above,
+he sat down and leisurely ate from his store of dried beef, biscuits,
+and corn bread. At midday the approaching horsemen were in full view,
+and Cutler saw that they had come with prairie wagons, containing camp
+paraphernalia, evidently prepared for a siege, for they knew as well as
+he did himself of the hiding-place where he had taken refuge. Soon the
+riders came to a halt and Cutler laughed as he saw others coming from
+all directions, evidently anxious to be “in at the death.” It looked
+rather a big camp to the solitary figure high in the air, but numbers
+meant nothing, only--well, his ammunition would give out sooner or
+later. Then, of course, would come capture--but he wouldn’t look that
+far ahead.
+
+During the afternoon several men approached, one of them displaying a
+white handkerchief, which he waved to and fro. When the men reached
+the bottom of the hill they dismounted and one made his way slowly up,
+shouting now and again, “It’s me, Jim--Joe Ludlow.” Cutler made his
+way down the path and, suddenly coming upon Ludlow, ordered him to
+throw up his hands. The man did so, saying, “Jim, you and I have been
+friends for fifteen years; believe me, I’m unarmed; I want to talk to
+you--trust me.” Thereupon Cutler lowered his rifle, and the two men
+shook hands. Then followed a long confab, during which Ludlow did his
+utmost to get Cutler to surrender. He said Sheriff Benson was prepared
+to starve Cutler out, or get him at all costs. It would only mean loss
+of life and must eventually result in the fugitive’s capture. Ludlow
+said that he, with half-a-dozen “pals,” would assure Cutler a safe
+return to Three Corners, sending Benson and all the rest on ahead. Then
+Cutler could stand his trial, and, with a good lawyer from Butte to
+defend him, would no doubt stand a chance of some sort.
+
+Cutler listened patiently; then he shook his head.
+
+“I know what’s coming to me, Joe,” he said; “they have been after me
+for years in a quiet way. Now they want my life, but they sha’n’t have
+it--at least not until I’ve paved the way with a few of them.”
+
+Ludlow was a very decent sort of fellow, and he tried his utmost to
+convince Cutler that his argument was a good one. Cutler then took
+the man into his confidence, and, Ludlow promising not to say a word
+to those below, he was told the whole story--told of Miss Thurloe’s
+complaints, the episode at the school-house, the shooting of Cutler’s
+horse, and everything.
+
+“Well, I’m jiggered!” cried Ludlow, when the tale was finished. “Why
+didn’t you let us know this in the first place?” He then informed
+the gambler that he would ride back to Three Corners and explain the
+situation to the schoolmistress. She had only to tell her story to the
+judge, he said, and it was a certainty he would interfere in some way.
+Cutler demurred, but Ludlow bluntly told him to “go to h----; he wasn’t
+going to see a good man hounded to death.” With that, turning on his
+heel, he left without another word.
+
+Going back to the camp, Ludlow informed Sheriff Benson that under no
+circumstances ought he to attempt to take Cutler, and asked him to
+await his return from Three Corners. Benson replied, “I want none of
+your conversation, Ludlow; Cutler is a downright murderer, and I mean
+to have him.”
+
+Ludlow, disdaining further argument, rode off at full speed toward the
+little town where all the trouble had occurred.
+
+Not knowing just what card Ludlow had up his sleeve, the sheriff
+decided to make quick work of Cutler’s capture. He therefore sent a
+party of deputies to Malvern, the nearest telegraph station, and in
+the name of the law asked the county militia to send him some men with
+a mountain gun, the property of private individuals who practised
+soldiering as a pastime. Each State in America, it may be said in
+passing, possesses several such regiments, which are available in
+war-time, although in no way a part of the Government organization, and
+having no connection with the State militia. It would have been useless
+to attempt to dislodge Cutler as matters stood, but Benson believed
+that a few shots from a cannon might have the desired effect. When his
+message was received at Malvern it created a sensation. Business was
+for the nonce neglected and everybody--men, women, and children--made
+their way toward the sheriffs camp at Table Hill.
+
+Several attempts were made to parley with Cutler, without success, and
+so three days went by. On the afternoon of the fourth day the refugee
+on the rock was thunderstruck to see a body of soldiers approaching
+from the south, with a field gun hauled by four horses. He did not
+know whether to laugh or to regard this seriously. Surely the officers
+of the law would not resort to bombarding him with a cannon? Soon the
+soldiers reached the camp, and about an hour later Cutler saw that the
+gun, a howitzer, was being trained on the hill where he lay enjoying a
+smoke. There was no chance of his getting away other than by the path
+by which he had come. Behind him there was a sheer drop of hundreds of
+feet into the gully far below. True, he could descend some distance
+down the mountain-side, but if the besiegers really meant business this
+would not help him much. Nothing was done that day, but Cutler kept
+vigilant watch all through the night. He had regularly built a huge
+fire some way down the mountain-side, which was protected by trees to
+some extent, but lit up the path for a considerable distance.
+
+[Illustration: “IF YOU SO MUCH AS WINK YOUR EYE I’LL PUT A HOLE IN
+YOU.”]
+
+The next morning a party numbering a dozen came toward the hill again
+bearing a white flag. They stopped some distance off, one man only
+continuing--Benson, the Sheriff of Beulah County, himself. Cutler
+allowed him to approach much nearer than had Ludlow; then he covered
+the advancing sheriff with his rifle.
+
+“Cutler, if we haven’t rushed this place,” said Benson, “it is only
+because I did not want to sacrifice human lives, knowing full well that
+sooner or later you must give up. I know you are on the square, so I’ve
+come up unarmed, being sure you wouldn’t take advantage of the white
+flag. I’m only doing my duty. I give you this chance to come back with
+me, otherwise I’m afraid they’ll blow this place up and you with it.”
+
+“Regular war, isn’t it?” replied Cutler, smilingly.
+
+“Looks like it,” admitted the sheriff.
+
+“Well, seeing you are trying that game, I’ll just do a little in the
+war line myself,” said Cutler. “You walk up this path towards me, and
+if you so much as wink your eye I’ll put a hole in you that a tramcar
+could go through!”
+
+The sheriff could hardly believe his ears. “Don’t be a fool, Cutler,”
+he said, angrily.
+
+“Never mind about my being a fool; you do as you’re told or I’ll drop
+you quick.”
+
+Benson evidently had no doubts about the matter, for, though beside
+himself with rage, he promptly did as Cutler ordered. The sheriff
+was forced to walk ahead, and no doubt, had his captor been almost
+any other man than Jim Cutler, there would have been one big fight
+on Table Hill, gun or no gun, but Benson knew that Cutler would do
+just as he said he would. Arrived at the top, Benson was forced to
+write a note saying that he was a captive, and that perhaps it would
+be just as well not to fire the cannon in the direction it was now
+trained. Furthermore, one man was to approach the hill with food,
+whisky, and tobacco. The note was then secured to a large stone by the
+aid of Sheriff Benson’s braces, and while Cutler “stood by” Benson
+was ordered to throw this stone toward the deputy in charge of the
+waiting horsemen below. This man, or one of those with him, picked up
+the stone, and read the message to the others. There was a great laugh
+below--plainly heard by the two men on the ledge--and, needless to
+say, the merriment of his assistants did not add to Benson’s peace of
+mind. Cutler now laid his rifle down, first having drawn a six-shooter.
+Then, approaching Benson, he searched him for concealed firearms, but
+the sheriff was unarmed. The latter was now told to sit down and make
+himself comfortable at the opening which led to the path, Cutler being
+thereby able to watch both his prisoner and the approach from below.
+Soon a solitary figure came from the camp, carrying the food “ordered.”
+It was brought as near as Cutler permitted it to be, and then Benson,
+under cover of the rifle, was sent to fetch it. It looked for a moment
+as though there might be a fight after all, but Cutler’s business-like
+demeanour soon caused his prisoner to change his mind.
+
+With the food there was a note, reading, “Are we to wait for you or
+not?” This did not appeal to the sheriff’s sense of humour, and he tore
+the paper into shreds.
+
+Just at sundown a large cloud of dust was noticed in the distance,
+which soon turned out to be a number of mounted men with a wagon, or
+“prairie schooner.” The new-comers were presently merged with those in
+camp, and not long afterwards two men, escorting a woman, rode slowly
+toward Table Hill. Again the white flag was raised, and a voice shouted
+from below, “Hi, Jim, it’s me--Ludlow.”
+
+Cutler permitted his friend to approach, and when he gained the ledge
+Ludlow had a hard struggle to restrain his laughter at the unfortunate
+sheriff’s predicament.
+
+“I’ve brought some news for you, Jim,” said Ludlow. “That school-ma’am
+is a brick, and no mistake. When I told her how things stood, she came
+right to the front, and not only saw Judge Nolan, but drove twenty
+miles to see Governor Hill, and here’s the result.”
+
+Ludlow then handed Sheriff Benson an official communication paroling
+Cutler in his own recognizances pending investigation of Miss Thurloe’s
+story. Western men are nothing if not intensely chivalrous, and, if
+this girl’s story was correct, Cutler, in their estimation, deserved,
+not death, but a medal.
+
+The amazed sheriff scratched his head and Cutler seemed undecided, but
+Ludlow grasped his hand eagerly. “Come on, old fellow, down to the
+sea-level,” he cried. This broke the tension, and all three men smiled.
+
+“There is nothing for me to do but obey this, Cutler,” said the
+sheriff, slowly; “but I’ll tell you straight I don’t feel like doing
+it.”
+
+Ludlow turned to Benson and informed him that Judge Nolan had made
+him a Court officer, the tenure of his office being thirty days, and
+that he would brook no interference from Benson or anyone else. That
+settled it. The trio walked down the path, where Miss Thurloe, with
+tears in her eyes, thanked Cutler for his brave and manly action on her
+behalf. She said that she had reason to believe he would be acquitted,
+and that, as no warrant had been issued for his arrest until after he
+had shot the men who had attempted to stop him, it must be a case of
+self-defence.
+
+Cutler was received with cheers by the crowd in camp--the same men
+who were thirsting for his blood an hour before--and soon everybody
+was seeking the nearest way home, and the scene of action was
+shortly deserted. It is not possible to chronicle that Jim Cutler
+was triumphantly acquitted at his trial. His character went strongly
+against him--that is to say, the fact that he had previously figured in
+“shooting scrapes”--but, nevertheless, his sentence was a comparatively
+light one. The State’s attorney (analogous to counsel for the Crown)
+laid great stress on the fact of Cutler’s having visited Goldman’s
+shop, obviously seeking trouble, when he should have reported the
+attempt on his life to the authorities. He was sentenced to five years
+in the State prison, but was pardoned at the expiration of eleven
+months. He is now living in Butte, the capital of the State of Montana,
+where he has opened a saloon. Miss Thurloe left Three Corners, and is
+believed to be teaching in Pittsburg, U.S.A.
+
+The local newspapers poked much fun at the soldiers who took their
+cannon miles out to bombard what they jocularly called “a one-man
+army”; but all the same they meant business, and had matters not ended
+as they did there would have been a change in the landscape just there,
+for the top of Table Hill would in all probability have been blown to
+pieces, and Jim Cutler with it.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+Photographing a Volcano in Eruption.
+
+BY FRANK DAVEY.
+
+    A vivid description of a photographer’s adventures in securing
+    pictures of the eruption of Makuaweoweo, in Hawaii. With pen
+    and camera Mr. Davey depicts the awe inspiring grandeur of
+    the lake of fire in the crater of Mauna Loa, the pyrotechnic
+    display afforded by the active cone on the mountain-side, and
+    the horrors of night amid the lava-wastes, where death menaced
+    the party on every hand.
+
+
+On Tuesday, July 1, 1899, reports reached Honolulu, Hawaiian Islands,
+that the volcano of Makuaweoweo, situated at the summit of Mauna Loa,
+thirteen thousand six hundred and seventy-five feet high, on the island
+of Hawaii, had burst forth with all the fury of years gone by. I was
+anxious to get some photographs of the eruption if possible, and so
+made all the haste I could to get my paraphernalia together and catch
+the steamer _W. H. Hall_, bound for Hawaii.
+
+[Illustration: “PAHOEHOE” LAVA, WHICH APPEARS AS THOUGH IT HAD COOLED
+WHILE FLOWING QUIETLY.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+I left with the intention of reaching the scene of action from the
+Kau side of the island, but when, upon arriving at Kailua, Kona, I
+telegraphed to Mr. N. S. Monsarrat, at Kapapalu, I found that he had a
+house full of guests bent on the same journey, and that all his horses
+had been engaged. Rather than lose time, therefore, I decided to take
+the most difficult route of all--right over the great mountain from the
+Kona side. The obstacles to be overcome may perhaps be imagined when I
+state that Mauna Loa is a volcanic mountain, nearly fourteen thousand
+feet high, and that one has to make one’s way for the entire distance
+over every kind of lava formation.
+
+[Illustration: “A. A.” LAVA, WHICH LOOKS AS THOUGH IT HAD SOLIDIFIED
+WHILE TOSSING LIKE A SEA IN A STORM AND THEN BEEN BROKEN UP BY
+EARTHQUAKES. [_From a Photograph_.]
+
+It was with great difficulty that I managed to get horses and mules
+from the natives, who knew the condition of the country, for the
+animals inevitably get badly knocked about, their legs being terribly
+cut by the lava, which is divided into two classes--“Pahoehoe” and
+“A. A.” The former term is applied to tracts of comparatively smooth
+lava, which appears as though it had cooled while flowing quietly; the
+latter is applied to stretches of broken lava which seem to have cooled
+when tossing like an ocean in a bad storm, and to have afterwards been
+broken up by earthquakes. No words of description can convey an idea
+of its roughness and hardness, which may be faintly realized from an
+inspection of the above photograph.
+
+During the time I was hunting for horses a number of gentlemen arrived
+and expressed their desire to join me in the expedition. I was only too
+pleased to have their company, so five travellers threw in their lot
+with me: Professor Ingalls, Colonel McCarthy, and Messrs. Sterns Buck,
+J. Ballard, and H. C. Klugel. These, with three guides, completed our
+party.
+
+We were up early the next morning. The first part of the journey was
+one of the most delightful rides I ever had. We rode for hours through
+magnificent tropical growths. There were giant ferns, some of which
+must have been thirty or forty feet high and three feet in diameter,
+groves of guavas, coco-nuts, and other fruits, miles of wild mint and
+bright-coloured flowers, and orchids of most delicate shapes.
+
+At dusk we reached the edge of the timber-line, in a drenching rain,
+a downpour such as is experienced only in the tropics, where the rain
+descends in sheets. We ate our supper and then spent the night huddled
+miserably together, trying in vain to keep dry.
+
+We resumed our journey at daybreak, over the most terrible country that
+can be imagined. The sharp edges of the lava cut through our stout
+boots like broken glass, and the poor animals suffered greatly. Still,
+however, we persevered, and finally reached the summit just as it was
+getting dark. Near the centre of the mountain-top an area of about four
+square miles sinks to a depth of one thousand feet. This is the great
+crater of Makuaweoweo, which we had endured so much to see.
+
+As I stood there in the cold, in the midst of those cheerless and
+God-forsaken wastes, I gazed down with speechless awe upon the
+untrammelled frolics of the God of Fire. The tempest-tossed lake of
+molten lava below the rim of the great cauldron was a typical workshop
+of Vulcan. The face of the lake of liquid fire alternated continually
+between black and white, like molten iron in a furnace. Oxidation
+and cooling of the fiery fluid would blacken the surface with a pall
+that covered it in darkest gloom; then a trembling, caused by further
+subterranean outbursts of steam, would break this ice-like oxide into a
+fretwork of tens of thousands of incandescent cracks, lighting up the
+smoke-charged pit with a fierce glare. Another moment, and in different
+parts of the lake geysers of fire of every imaginable colour would rise
+like fountains in a public garden.
+
+[Illustration: THE AUTHOR SURVEYING THE CRATER OF MAKUAWEOWEO FROM A
+PINNACLE OF LAVA.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+The great forbidding-looking walls of this “home of everlasting fire”
+sparkled with the unusual light, and then, as the spouts of flame died
+away, the surface would again turn black, leaving the whole mass to all
+appearances dead.
+
+We found that the worst outbreak was about five thousand feet farther
+down the mountain-side. Some of our party were seized with such a
+sickness of horror at the crater’s edge that they rolled themselves
+up in their blankets and refused to look down upon this fiery
+maelstrom--and that after two days of arduous effort to reach a point
+of view!
+
+When the time came for sleep, another man and I turned into a
+“blowhole” in the lava; it was an immense bubble that had cooled
+and left an opening so that we could crawl in. We little thought
+that there was another hole at the other end, and the piercing wind
+blew through this like a funnel; but we had to stay there, for it is
+dangerous to wander about over the rifts and chasms of jagged lava in
+the darkness. Here, in this strange bed-chamber, we slept, or tried
+to sleep--shivering and shuddering through the chilly solitude of the
+night in those desolate mountain wastes.
+
+[Illustration: THE CRATER OF MAKUAWEOWEO, SHOWING THE AWFUL LAKE OF
+LIQUID FIRE.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+Walking across the congealed masses of lava next morning, one began to
+think that at any moment one was liable to drop through to the very
+gates of Hades and be precipitated to the most horrible of deaths.
+Underneath one was a bottomless abyss of mud, sulphur, and rock; and
+to contemplate being cast into that fearsome-looking lake of fire and
+brimstone was not at all comfortable. The Biblical description of hell
+does not convey even a faint idea of that terrible lake of fire below
+us, which appeared to be fretting and fuming as though anxious to get
+loose and destroy everything in its path. The crater of Makuaweoweo at
+that time, without doubt, afforded the spectator a more awe-inspiring
+display of the forces of Nature than has been granted to man elsewhere
+on earth without the sacrifice of life.
+
+[Illustration: THE AUTHOR AND HIS COMPANIONS AS THEY APPEARED JUST
+BEFORE LEAVING THEIR HORSES TO VISIT THE WORST OUTBREAK.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+Soon after daylight we prepared for the descent to the point that was
+throwing out molten lava at a white heat. It was practically impossible
+to take the horses farther, so we tethered them to stones near the
+yawning depths of Makuaweoweo, and left one of the guides to look after
+them. We were very thirsty, but it was some time before we could find
+water, though snow and ice were plentiful. Farther down, however, we
+discovered water in a deep crack in the lava, filled the canteens,
+and started on our downward journey. I was suffering from mountain
+sickness; my head felt as if it would burst and my stomach was upside
+down. We stumbled along with difficulty for about two miles, when I had
+to get the assistance of Mr. Buck to carry my camera. Two of our party
+who had started out in advance gave it up and returned--they could not
+stand the strain of the rough travelling. This left but four of us,
+with two guides.
+
+Presently we reached a cone where the lava had piled up to the height
+of about one hundred feet, then, bursting out at the side, disappeared
+into the ground, to reappear about a quarter of a mile farther down
+and repeat its action. These cones averaged two hundred feet in width
+at the base and one hundred feet in height, and we passed five “dead”
+ones. A sixth was still smoking, but was not active. Two of the party
+tried to climb to the top of this cone, but were unable to do so.
+
+We then pushed on to cone number seven, which was belching forth huge
+volumes of steam and sulphur. The fumes, most fortunately, were being
+blown away from us. At this stage one of the guides refused to go any
+farther; it was too dangerous, he said, so he proceeded to retrace his
+steps, while we others continued our journey toward cone number eight.
+This was the last and largest, and was, I should estimate, about two
+hundred feet high; in fact, a veritable miniature volcano, spouting
+red-hot lava a hundred feet in the air with a ripping boom that could
+be heard for miles. Boulders that must have weighed a ton were being
+hurled high into the air as if shot from a cannon. Others followed
+to meet those coming down, and as they met they burst like explosive
+shells, scattering molten matter on all sides. This flowed down the
+incline in cascades like water, showing red, yellow, blue, and all the
+colours of the rainbow.
+
+[Illustration: TWO OF THE “DEAD” CONES PASSED BY THE PARTY.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+It is impossible to describe the grandeur of the effect, and a
+knowledge of the force that was causing the display made one feel very
+small indeed. Some of the ejected masses were as large as a horse, and
+when they were belched forth were at a white heat. They went so high
+that they had time to cool and return to the vortex black.
+
+It was three o’clock in the afternoon when we reached this wonderful
+display. It had taken us nine hours to reach the volcano, and we were
+thirsty and well-nigh exhausted. We could not approach very near on
+account of the heat, but I made some photographic exposures, and then
+sat for an hour watching the wonderful sight. As the sun went down the
+magnificence of the scene increased. The ground shook at each explosion
+to such an extent as to make us sick. We found quantities of what is
+known as “Pele’s hair.”[1] It is caused by the wind blowing the liquid
+lava through the air, forming fine threads like human hair.
+
+[Footnote 1: Pele, according to the native legends, is the goddess of
+the volcano, and dwells in the crater.]
+
+As we approached cone number seven on our return journey the wind
+changed, and to our consternation we saw a cloud of sulphur blowing
+right across our path. These masses of vapour are so impregnated with
+sulphur and poisonous gases that it is impossible for any living thing
+to exist among them, and to get caught in their midst means death.
+Alarmed, we started to go around the other side, but found the lava was
+too hot; the surface was cool, but there was living fire beneath, and
+we dared not proceed. We kept on until the lava began to move under our
+feet, and then beat a retreat to face the sulphur again, for it was
+better to be smothered to death than slowly roasted.
+
+[Illustration: CONE “NUMBER SEVEN”--IT WAS ABOUT TWO HUNDRED FEET HIGH,
+A MINIATURE VOLCANO, SPOUTING RED-HOT LAVA AND GIANT BOULDERS WITH A
+ROAR THAT COULD BE HEARD FOR MILES. _From a Photograph._]
+
+We made a number of attempts to pass that deadly barrier of vapour, but
+were forced to return each time, nearly suffocated. It looked as though
+we should soon be choked to death--the fire at the back of us, the
+sulphur in front. Professor Ingalls remarked that we had better make
+the best of our time by taking notes, and then prepare for the worst.
+Just at this critical moment I happened to turn round and saw an arch,
+as it were, in the sulphur smoke, where the wind was blowing it up from
+the ground.
+
+“Look! look!” I shouted, in great excitement. “Run for it!” And how
+we ran! Providence gave us the chance and fear lent us strength, for
+under ordinary circumstances we could never have run as we did, owing
+to the condition of our feet. The danger, however, made us forget the
+pain, and we ran for dear life. We had scarcely got through that arch
+of clear air when down came the cloud again, as though lowered by some
+great power. The only guide who had stayed with us fell exhausted at
+the edge of the vapour-mass. How I managed to drag him along I do not
+know; I hardly realized what I was doing, but I managed to save him.
+
+Once past the danger-point we crawled along at our best pace, for at
+any moment the wind might turn in our direction, when we should be
+again overtaken by that terrible death-cloud. I had left my camera
+behind in our wild flight, but fortunately I saved several plates.
+
+It was now night, and the only light we had was the lurid glare from
+the volcano. Suddenly, as we stumbled painfully along, we came upon
+a man sitting by the side of a dead cone; it was the guide who had
+returned. He said he did not expect to see us alive again, for he had
+seen the deadly smoke blow across the mountain.
+
+If it had not been for the light from the volcano we should undoubtedly
+have perished of cold and thirst, as we should have been compelled to
+stop walking. As it was, we dared not halt for any length of time, or
+we should not have had warmth enough to keep the blood circulating.
+All that night we crawled over that terrible lava. We fell down at
+intervals of about twenty feet, often breaking through the black crust,
+sometimes up to our waists, cutting ourselves on the sharp projections
+until our hands and legs were woefully lacerated. Almost as soon as
+we fell we dropped asleep; then, as we got colder, we would wake up
+and force ourselves on again for a few dozen yards or so, only to fall
+asleep, wake, and struggle up once more. The agony of the situation and
+the pain of our wounds were enough to make a man go insane.
+
+At last it began to get light, but still we had come across no water,
+and that in our canteens had long since been exhausted. Very few
+people, fortunately, know what it means to have their throats and lips
+so swollen and cracked that they are bleeding for want of water. I
+could scarcely speak. We hunted the depths and crevices of the lava,
+sometimes going down ten or fifteen feet, looking for water, only to be
+disappointed again and again. At last I got so weak that Mr. Buck had
+to take my package of plates off my back, where I had tied them.
+
+Suddenly I saw a break in the lava nearly full of beautiful water. I
+pulled Mr. Buck’s arm, pointing to it, and mumbled, “Water.” Slowly he
+pulled off his coat and started to climb down the crack. It was about
+eight feet wide, narrowing to three. I leaned over the side, holding
+the canteen for Mr. Buck to fill. He went down a few feet, and then
+stopped. I motioned to him to fill the bottle, croaking, “Water.” He
+did not look around, but mumbled, “I see no water,” as if in a dream.
+Picking up a piece of lava, I tossed it down and cried hoarsely,
+“_There_ is the water.” But to my astonishment the pebble went down,
+down, down, out of sight, with no sound of a splash, into a fathomless
+abyss. The crevice was so deep that we could not see the bottom, and
+the shock of the discovery made me faint. How Sterns Buck managed to
+return he does not remember; it is a wonder he did not fall, to be
+mangled upon the sharp corners of lava.
+
+I came to my senses dazed and almost bewildered, and Buck and I sat
+motionless for some time staring at each other. After a time we
+scrambled on again until we came upon the guide sitting upon the edge
+of a high crack, eating frozen snow, and tearing at it with his teeth
+like a hungry dog. We followed his example, not without pain, but the
+snow tasted good.
+
+Some of the party who had previously returned met us near the summit
+with coffee. When they saw us coming they got things ready so as to
+make us as comfortable as possible. After washing our lacerated hands
+and feet we took a good sleep, and awoke much refreshed. The journey
+home was, comparatively speaking, easy, but the memory of that night
+amidst the lava will last me to my dying day.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Our Leopard Hunt.]
+
+BY THOMAS B. MARSHALL.
+
+    An exciting story told by a former official of the Gold Coast
+    Government. With a friend and some natives he went out to shoot
+    a marauding leopard. They accomplished their mission, but
+    before the day was over one and all of the party had received a
+    good deal more than they bargained for.
+
+
+In 1899, while in the service of the Gold Coast Government, and
+stationed at Kumasi, I received orders “per bearer, who will accompany
+you,” to proceed to a point on Volta not far south of where it
+debouches from among the Saraga Hills. “The bearer,” a nice young
+fellow called Strange, was newly arrived in the colony, and his
+pleasant home gossip was not less welcome to me than my information
+about the country we were in was to him. Our rough forest journey,
+then, passed as pleasantly as such journeys can, and by the time we
+arrived at our destination we were the best of friends.
+
+Akroful, a town of about seven hundred inhabitants, was the nearest
+place of any size to the spot where we pitched our camp, and we were
+soon on good terms with its headman, Otibu Daku, and his son, Dansani,
+both of whom put us in the way of some good shooting.
+
+We had been in this place about a fortnight, when we began to be
+annoyed by the depredations of a marauding leopard, who took to
+visiting our live-stock pens, and at last we decided to lie in wait
+for him. I took the first watch until a snake crawled over my legs;
+then I went to bed. It was a harmless one, but it reminded me of the
+need of precaution, so next night found our lair surrounded by a very
+uninviting floor of cactus leaves.
+
+The fourth night after our vigil commenced Strange succeeded in
+wounding our sell-invited guest, and we determined to track him down
+as soon as it was light. Otibu Daku and his son willingly agreed to
+help us; and I took, in addition, two of my own men who would, I
+knew, “stand fire”--Ashong Tawiah, an Accra man, and Nyato, my chief
+steward-boy, a Krooman.
+
+The two Ashantis led the way, Otibu Daku carrying a “long Dane” gun;
+his son, a machete. Tawiah and Nyato also carried machetes, and the
+former, on leaving camp, had picked up a broad-bladed Hausa spear.
+Strange and I each had a repeating rifle and a revolver, for, as Nyato
+told me, “Dem headman, ’e say, plenty tiger lib dem part.”
+
+The trail was easy to follow. There was not much blood, but the
+ground was soft from recent rain. It was rough going, however, and
+the machetes were constantly at work clearing a way. Up and down
+small watersheds, squelching through marshy bottoms, crossing streams
+on fallen trees, we frequently lost the track, but by some sort of
+instinct our guides always found it again.
+
+At last, after descending a more than usually steep incline, we found
+ourselves in a valley of some size. The bush here was very thin, and we
+progressed without difficulty until we came in sight of the inevitable
+stream, the opposite bank of which, rising steeply, evidently formed
+the commencement of the next divide. I was about a dozen yards to
+Strange’s right; the ground was clear of bush between us and the
+stream; and on the nearer bank, his head overhanging the water, lay
+our quarry, clearly dying. But he was not alone. Stretched by his
+side, licking the wound that was letting out his life, lay a fine
+female leopard, evidently his consort. On seeing us she rose to her
+feet, snarling; she abandoned her ministrations and became militant--a
+defender-avenger. Strange fired hastily on sight, and a convulsive
+heave of the prostrate body showed where the bullet struck. With a
+light leap the leopardess cleared her mate, and with long, low springs
+raced down towards my friend. He fired again at thirty yards, wounding
+her, and she swerved slightly and came in my direction. We both fired
+together, whereupon she stopped suddenly, reared straight up, pawing
+the air--then fell backward, stone-dead.
+
+[Illustration: “SHE REARED STRAIGHT UP PAWING THE AIR--THEN FELL
+BACKWARD, STONE-DEAD.”]
+
+Hardly had the double report died away when our attention was attracted
+to a movement on the other side of the stream. Tawiah pointed.
+
+“Oolah! tiger him piccin!” (“Master, the leopard’s cubs”), he cried.
+Slinking away downstream, with long, stealthy strides, their muzzles to
+the ground and tails trailing low, were two half-grown leopards, the
+head of one level with the other’s haunch.
+
+“Tally-ho!” cried Strange, and let fly at them. His one fault as a
+sportsman was a too great eagerness to get the first shot in. The white
+splinters flew from the buttress of a great cotton-wood, and the nearer
+cub, startled as never before, leapt a man’s height from the ground,
+and, coming down, raced away downstream after its companion.
+
+“Come on! We’ll bag the whole family,” said Strange, jumping into the
+stream. Otibu Daku was already across and I was about to follow, when
+I noticed, fluttering up the farther slope, one of those beautiful
+insects called the “dead leaf” butterfly. You will see one fluttering
+along like a fugitive piece of rainbow--then suddenly it will alight on
+a withered branch or heap of dead herbage and disappear, the underside
+of the wings being in shape, colour, and even veining an exact
+imitation of a withered leaf.
+
+I was an enthusiastic collector, and never went out without a folding
+net that could be fixed to any fairly straight stick. Bidding Tawiah
+remain with me, then, I let the others go on after the cubs, and in a
+couple of minutes was in pursuit of my own particular quarry. The slope
+was nearly bare of bush, and I did not have much difficulty in making
+the capture. Placing it in a flat box containing some poison-wax, I
+took my rifle from Tawiah and went on up the hill, leaving him tying up
+a scratch on his leg.
+
+I was not quite easy in my mind. We had been too hasty in concluding
+that the cubs we had seen belonged to the leopards we had shot. They
+had been driven away too easily, and most likely were heading straight
+for their own den, where, at that time of day, the old ones would
+certainly be at home.
+
+I hurried on in the hope of getting some indication of my friend’s
+whereabouts. At the top of the ascent a soft breeze met me, it was
+pleasant and refreshing, but it brought that with it that made me drop
+flat behind a bush and throw my rifle forward. There is no mistaking
+the odour given off by the larger carnivora, and the strength of the
+smell that assailed my nostrils was such as to convince me that my
+first hasty thought--that I had headed off the cubs--was wrong. Such an
+effluvium could come only from a den, and an occupied one at that.
+
+There were three possibilities. It might be the home of the dead
+leopards, of the strange cubs we had seen, or the lair of yet a third
+family. I looked back. Tawiah was not in sight, but I knew he would
+follow. In front, for a hundred yards, the level crest of the ridge
+was covered by a sparse, wand-like growth that was no impediment to
+the view. Beyond the ground fell away again, and just on the edge, and
+rather to my right, stood two enormous cotton-woods, the space between
+them being a labyrinth of roots standing thigh-high from the ground.
+
+To this point, with what speed and silence I could command, I made my
+way. Midway I stopped abruptly to listen. A deep snarling, worrying
+sound filled the air, coming from straight ahead. Reaching the nearest
+root, I looked over. The rapidly falling ground beyond was hidden by a
+far-sweeping buttress from the tree on my left, which, running parallel
+with the one I stood against, made a passage about four feet wide and
+two high. Stealing away to the left, where the nearer root sank below
+the surface, I entered the passage, and, on all fours, reached a point
+midway between the two trees. The noise I had before heard was now very
+distinct, and, blending with it, yet dominating it, came a continuous
+buzzing sound like the far-away roll of a drum. I knew it for the
+purring of a full-grown leopard.
+
+Looking back, I was glad enough to see Tawiah reaching the level. I
+raised a warning hand, and, waiting only to see that he observed me,
+turned, and very cautiously looked over the root in front. From where I
+crouched the ground fell away very steeply and was bare and stony. Then
+began a gentler slope covered with a low scrub and running down into a
+valley similar to, but larger than, the one we had just left. Down the
+centre flowed a stream, the same on whose banks, higher up, we had left
+the dead leopards. I was on a kind of spur, round which the stream made
+a bend away to my right. To my left it lost itself in an expanse of
+shallow water covered with great water-lilies, which merged in its turn
+into the stream of the Volta, half a mile away.
+
+Just where the change of slope began was a great outcrop of rock. About
+a foot above the base, and facing me, was a ragged opening, and in
+this, with both paws hanging over the edge, lounged a fine she-leopard.
+The air hummed with her complacent purr, as, with blinking eyes, she
+watched the rough play of two well-grown cubs. Presently she rolled
+over on her back, and, with downward-hanging head, struck idly with
+a mighty paw at a white butterfly flitting above her. She was the
+personification of soft and sinuous strength.
+
+Suddenly, away to the right, a shot rang out. The purring ceased,
+and instantly the great cat was couched, rigid as a bronze casting.
+Except for the tip of her tail, not a muscle moved. Presently the
+tense expression relaxed, and with a guttural sort of sigh her head
+dropped on to her paws. But only for an instant. The stealthy rustling
+of something approaching reached her ears, and she resumed her alert
+attitude. Then her eyes half closed again, and she seemed to go smooth
+all over. A suave, fawning expression came into her face; her purring
+redoubled; she rolled softly on to her side and gazed intently in the
+direction of the sound. The noise came nearer, and presently, as I
+expected, her mate appeared. He paused for an instant to look back,
+and at that moment Strange’s rifle spoke again, and the leopard sank
+down, biting savagely at his hind-quarters. With one movement as it
+seemed, and with a sort of deep-throated cough, his consort was by his
+side, and then began an awful duet of snarls and growls, rumblings and
+snufflings, with the cubs for chorus.
+
+It was high time for me to take action; a wounded leopard and a
+leopardess with young can make themselves pretty awkward. I aimed at
+the female as being the more dangerous, and was about to pull the
+trigger, when a movement in the valley attracted my attention. One of
+the cubs we had first seen was tearing across the open, making for the
+stream. Some distance behind followed the other, evidently wounded.
+Close upon him ran Dansani, machete in hand. As I looked the cub turned
+and Dansani struck. Nyato was close behind, and level with him, but
+farther out, Otibu Daku stole swiftly with long, bent-kneed strides,
+his “long Dane” gun held across his body. Strange was not in sight.
+
+The foremost cub was nearly at the stream when he raised a howl of
+fear or of warning, I do not know which. On the instant, from a clump
+of bushes on the farther side, there leapt two greyish-white forms.
+Clearing the stream, they charged straight down on the young Ashanti.
+
+All this was photographed on my brain while my finger was on the
+trigger. The scene was blotted out as I fired, and from that moment I
+had enough on my hands to occupy my undivided attention. The leopardess
+was killed outright. The next instant I fired at the male, but one of
+the cubs gave a jump and received the bullet meant for his sire. How
+the brute did it I do not know--for he had a broken thigh-bone--but
+next moment the old leopard was tearing up the slope towards me, and
+very business-like he looked. I fired again and clipped his ear; then
+his claws were hooked on to the root in front of me, and all I could
+do was to smash the butt, pile-driver fashion, down upon his head. He
+seized it in his jaws, and the hard wood cracked like pitch-pine, while
+the wrench nearly tore the weapon from my grasp. He gave me no time to
+reverse it for another shot, or to draw my revolver. Four times did he
+struggle to draw himself up, and but for his broken leg I could not
+have prevented him. Four times, luckily for me, he allowed his fury to
+vent itself on the rifle-butt. The struggle only lasted seconds, but it
+seemed hours, and already the fury of it made my breath come short.
+
+And then the cub decided to take a hand! It had been pacing to and fro,
+snuffing the blood and growling; it then suddenly turned, and dashed
+straight to the scene of combat. A leopard cub by itself is not more
+than a man can manage, but as a reinforcement to an infuriated parent
+it is a serious matter. I heard Tawiah behind me.
+
+“Take the piccin,” I yelled, and put all my strength into an effort to
+thrust my foe back. Instinctively he tried to use his injured leg, and
+this time he lost grip altogether, and his claws scraped down the root,
+making great furrows in the wood. I let him have the gun, and seized my
+revolver in time to plant a couple of bullets in his head as he came up
+again.
+
+Meanwhile Tawiah had accounted for the cub, but he was badly clawed
+down the leg. To my surprise--for I did not remember the brute using
+his claws at all except to hold on by--my coat was ripped, and I had
+several nasty, but not severe, scratches down chest and arms.
+
+Our attention was now diverted to the scene below, and what we saw sent
+us both down the slope as fast as we could race--Tawiah ahead. One cub
+lay dead--Dansani’s victim--and a few paces from it stood the young
+Ashanti, preparing to dodge the foremost of the parent leopards I had
+seen break cover. He sprang aside as it reached him, but the brute
+wheeled as if on a pivot and reared. Then came the crashing report
+of the “long Dane,” a fearful yell, and Dansani reeled away with his
+hands to his head, and fell. The leopard, roaring horribly, rolled over
+and over, apparently broken in two. Its mate, swerving at the report,
+turned and raced straight for Tawiah, who had just reached the level
+ground. I shouted to him to come back to me, thinking that revolver and
+spear together would match the furious brute, but apparently he did
+not understand, for, waving me to follow, he tore off to where, midway
+between him and the advancing leopard, stood a small Dequa palm. His
+object, I learnt afterwards, was to hold the leopard at bay there till
+help arrived. It was a mad idea, for the savage brute was covering
+three yards to one of his.
+
+Just at that moment I caught sight of Strange--hobbling along,
+supported by his rifle, five hundred yards away; there was no help to
+be expected from him. Nyato was rushing on to settle with the remaining
+cub, that, screaming, was alternately dashing towards its wounded dam
+and back to the stream. Otibu Daku was carrying Dansani to the water,
+and the female leopard, her hind quarters straddling like those of a
+frog, with the small of her back blown away and reared on her front
+legs, was rending the air with the most awful yells.
+
+The male passed the tree, and only about forty yards separated him from
+my faithful follower. I ran on. Trusting to luck, I fired two chambers,
+but without success. The distance between them decreased rapidly, and
+Tawiah, seeing the hopelessness of his position, grounded his spear,
+and, gripping it by the middle, backed up the butt with his knee in
+the hope that the brute would impale himself. Then I saw that Strange
+was kneeling, taking aim. He could never hit a running leopard at that
+range, I told myself; it would appear no bigger than a cat to him.
+
+I was twenty yards behind Tawiah, and barely ten separated him from
+the leopard, when a ball of smoke floated away from Strange’s rifle.
+I dared not hope, and Tawiah remained like a rock. Then, suddenly, the
+leopard halted, and--for all the world like a kitten chasing its own
+tail--spun round and round till we could hardly tell one end from the
+other. I sent two bullets as near the centre as I could, and Tawiah,
+charging in, drove his spear in at one side and out at the other. The
+battle was over.
+
+[Illustration: “DANSANI REELED AWAY WITH HIS HANDS TO HIS HEAD, AND
+FELL.”]
+
+We found that Strange’s bullet had pierced the skin of the neck just
+where it joins the head, and had half stunned the animal. But what a
+glorious shot! I paced the distance to him; it was four hundred and
+sixty odd yards! He had made just a little too much allowance for
+speed, but what of that?
+
+Strange, it appeared, had stepped on a loose stone and strained his
+ankle badly. Poor Dansani was horribly mauled. The beast had clawed him
+from the crown of his head to the knee in one awful sweep. Half the
+scalp overhung his face, one eye was destroyed, the muscle of the upper
+arm was in ribbons, and the stroke, glancing from the elbow, had laid
+open his thigh to the knee. A revolver-shot finished his assailant. We
+did what we could for Dansani on the spot, and Nyato and his father
+carried him home on a hastily-constructed litter. Later he recovered,
+but was terribly disfigured.
+
+Tawiah and I took it in turns to help Strange along, and when we
+reached the spot where our first victims lay we found their young ones
+mewling over them. They slunk away, and we did not molest them. The
+cub Nyato had chased allowed self-preservation to triumph over filial
+affection, and got away also. My rifle was utterly ruined. And so ended
+our leopard hunt.
+
+
+
+
+TURTLE-FARMING.
+
+BY H. J. SHEPSTONE.
+
+    An interesting description of the way in which turtles are
+    “farmed” in various parts of the world. The most up-to-date and
+    scientifically-conducted of these curious establishments is
+    that of Mr. Hattori, in Japan, where the snapping-turtle, the
+    most vicious of his species, is bred and reared.
+
+
+That strange creature, the turtle, is now receiving the attention of
+the farmer, and is being scientifically bred and reared in various
+parts of the world. Indeed, turtle-farming on a large scale is now
+carried on both in Japan and in America, while the great palisade
+enclosures on the shores in the West Indies, where turtles are confined
+until wanted for the London market, may well come under the same
+designation.
+
+Curiously enough, the species of turtle favoured respectively by the
+Japanese, Americans, and by English people are totally different. For
+instance, the Japanese farmer gives his attention to the propagation of
+the snapping-turtle and American to the diamond-backed terrapin, while
+the turtle soup so much prized by the wealthy and sought after by the
+sick in this country is made from the green turtle of the West Indies.
+
+[Illustration: A GROUP OF YOUNG TURTLES JUST HATCHED.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+The terrapin is quite a small creature, rather flat-backed and rounded
+in outline, its scales being marked by independent black patterns
+composed of many geometric figures placed one within another. At one
+time it was found in large quantities in the shallow bays and salt
+marshes along the Atlantic coast from Massachusetts to Texas. The
+discovery that its flesh made a delicious stew and an ideal soup,
+however, resulted in the creature being hunted so vigorously that
+to-day it is exceedingly scarce. Indeed, whereas a terrapin, seven
+inches in length, could be picked up a few years ago for a few cents,
+it would be difficult to secure one to-day for a five-pound note. It
+was this scarcity of the terrapin, and the big demand for it among the
+hotels and restaurants, that have led not a few enterprising men to
+establish farms, where these much-sought-after creatures are bred and
+reared for the market in large numbers.
+
+The terrapin being small, perfectly harmless, and requiring but a
+little pond of salt water to dwell in, there is nothing particularly
+exciting in farming it. Indeed, a terrapin “farm” consists merely of
+a number of small ponds or basins in which the creatures are confined
+according to their age and size. Thus, in the smaller ponds, we
+discover those just hatched from the eggs--curious little things not
+much bigger than a billiard ball. As they breed well, and it is not
+necessary to keep the creature long before it is ready for the _chef_,
+terrapin farming may be described as a fairly remunerative business.
+
+[Illustration: GENERAL VIEW OF MR. HATTORI’S TURTLE-FARM NEAR TOKIO,
+JAPAN.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+[Illustration: THE EMBANKMENT OF A “PARENTS’ POND”--EACH OF THE WIRE
+CIRCLETS HERE SHOWN COVERS A DEPOSIT OF EGGS.
+
+_From a Photo. by M. Ichikawa, Japan._]
+
+Decidedly more up-to-date are the snapping-turtle farms of Mr. Hattori,
+situated just outside Tokio, the capital of Japan. The Japanese people
+will proudly tell you that they are the only turtle farms in the world,
+but, as I have already shown, this is hardly correct. These farms
+were established some few years ago now, and are, without question,
+a great success. On an average, Mr. Hattori supplies to the hotels
+and restaurants of Japan over sixteen thousand turtles a year, while
+another five thousand are shipped to China. So far as the farm itself
+is concerned, it consists of a number of rectangular ponds, large and
+small, the larger ones having an area of fifteen to twenty thousand
+square feet.
+
+[Illustration: YOUNG SNAPPING-TURTLES A FEW DAYS OLD--THEY ARE KEPT IN
+A SEPARATE ENCLOSURE IN ORDER THAT THEIR CANNIBALISTIC ELDERS MAY NOT
+DEVOUR THEM.
+
+_From a Photo. by M. Ichikawa, Japan._]
+
+One or more of the ponds is always reserved for large breeding
+individuals, or “parents,” as they are called, and one of the
+assistants visits this pond twice a day to look out for new deposits
+of eggs. Over these he places a wire basket, with the date marked upon
+it. In one of our photographs a number of these wire baskets may be
+seen, though unfortunately the eggs are not shown, being covered with
+a slight layer of sand, this work being done by the turtle itself.
+The covering serves a twofold purpose--the obvious one of marking the
+place, and, in addition, that of keeping other females from digging in
+the same spot. When hundreds, or even thousands, of these baskets are
+seen along the bank of a “parents’ pond,” the sight is one to gladden
+the heart of an embryologist, to say nothing of the proprietor.
+
+The hatching of the eggs occupies, on an average, sixty days. The
+time, however, may be considerably shortened or lengthened, according
+to whether the summer is hot and the sun pours down its strong rays
+day after day, or whether there is much rain and the heat not great.
+As the turtles lay sixty eggs to the nest at two sittings, it will be
+seen that in a single season many thousands are added to this unique
+establishment, but at least five years must elapse before they are
+large enough for the _chef_.
+
+[Illustration: CHOPPING UP FOOD FOR THE BABY TURTLES.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+One would imagine, remembering the quantities of eggs laid by turtles,
+that they would be very plentiful, but there are few creatures that
+have more enemies. All that the mother turtle does is to deposit her
+eggs on the sand of some island and there leave them to be hatched
+out by the sun. Before this process is accomplished they are often
+destroyed by rats and birds, while very few of those that are hatched
+survive very long. The moment the young turtle emerges from its shell
+it seeks the water, and there crabs and various kinds of fish are ever
+ready to devour it. The young just hatched at the farm under notice are
+put in a pond or ponds by themselves and given finely-chopped meat of a
+fish like the pilchard, while the bigger ones are fed largely on live
+eels. This feeding continues to the end of September. In October the
+snapping-turtle ceases to take food, and finally burrows in the muddy
+bottom of the pond to hibernate, coming out only in April or May.
+
+Snapping-turtle farming is much more exciting than raising the
+American terrapin. The former is a vicious creature and will snap
+at anything--hence its name. Indeed, in disposition it is the very
+opposite of its American brother. It believes most thoroughly in the
+survival of the fittest, and to it the fittest is number one. It is a
+chronic fighter, and inasmuch as its jaws are very strong and, like a
+bulldog, it never knows when to let go, it is a reptile to be either
+mastered or avoided. Indeed, the men at Mr. Hattori’s farm can tell
+many exciting little stories concerning the voracity of this strange
+creature. One farm hand, for instance, is minus a finger, the result of
+not using sufficient care when transferring one of the larger reptiles
+to a new pond.
+
+[Illustration: FEEDING THE EELS WHICH IN TURN PROVIDE FOOD FOR THE
+LARGER TURTLES.
+
+_From a Photo. by M. Ichikawa, Japan._]
+
+Many naturalists have visited this unique farm and, after a close study
+of the turtle and its habits, have confirmed all the bad qualities that
+have been recorded concerning it. In securing its food it shows that
+it possesses no mean intelligence. At one time it crawls slowly and
+silently along with neck outstretched towards an unsuspecting fish,
+springs upon it by a powerful thrust of its hind legs, and snaps it
+up; at another time it drives the fish around the basin and terrifies
+it until it falls an unresisting victim. Again, the reptile may be
+observed buried in the sandy soil of its prison with only its bill and
+eyes protruding. On the approach of a fish the head and long neck dart
+forth from the sand with lightning speed and the prey is caught and
+instantly killed by a savage bite.
+
+In its wild state the snapping-turtle is distinctly a nocturnal animal,
+and does its hunting after sunset, when it emerges from its muddy home
+to look for food. In the presence of danger it becomes bold, defiant,
+and even desperate. When driven to bay it retracts its neck, head, and
+widely-gaping jaws into its shell, awaiting a favourable opportunity
+to thrust them forth slyly and bite savagely. Anything which it has
+seized in its jaws it holds with wonderful tenacity, at the same time
+vigorously scratching the earth with its sharp claws. There is only one
+way to catch the snapping-turtle, and that is to secure it by the tail.
+Some of the men at Mr. Hattori’s farm are very dexterous in seizing
+their victims in this fashion.
+
+A little time ago a Russian officer visited the establishment and
+listened, with some incredulity, to the stories of the voracity of
+the reptiles in the ponds before him. He carried in his hand a stout
+cane, and was told to place it near one of the bigger animals. He did
+so, and was surprised to find that in a few minutes it was bitten
+clean through. Before now the snapping-turtle has been known to bite
+through the flat of an oar. Not only will this turtle catch all kinds
+of fish and frogs and devour them greedily, but it is not averse to
+hunting waterfowl. Mr. Hattori declares that, in addition to raising
+turtles, he could rear ducks and geese as well, but dare not, as the
+reptiles would only kill them. When a snapping-turtle detects a duck it
+cunningly makes its way towards the creature, seizes it by its legs,
+pulls it down under water, and then drags it to the bottom of the pond.
+Here it tears the duck to pieces with the aid of the long claws of its
+fore paws and devours it.
+
+It is this snapping propensity which makes it desirable to keep the
+reptiles in ponds according to their ages; it would not do to put
+those just hatched in the same basin as the bigger ones, as they would
+quickly be eaten. Until they reach their sixth year they are never
+“mixed.” When they reach this age, however, they are capable of taking
+care of themselves and are allowed access to the bigger ponds. By this
+time the turtle has reached maturity and may begin to deposit eggs,
+though it is not at its prime till two or three years later.
+
+[Illustration: WEST INDIAN TURTLES ON BOARD A MAIL STEAMER BOUND FOR
+LONDON--IN SPITE OF EVERY CARE, THE MORTALITY AMONG THEM IS VERY HEAVY.
+[_From a Photograph._]]
+
+What the Japanese epicure prefers are turtles not more than five years
+of age, when the flesh is soft and in desirable condition for the
+making of stews and soups. At this age the snapping-turtle weighs from
+sixty to eighty pounds. Those that are destined for the table are kept
+in a pond to themselves, and taken as required in nets or pulled out of
+the water by their tails. They are then placed in tin boxes or cases
+with air-holes, and sent by train to their destination.
+
+The turtle that is consumed in this country is the green species, from
+the West Indies. The creatures are imported by Mr. T. K. Bellis, who
+will not hesitate to tell you that of edible turtles the green variety
+is the best. Mr. Bellis imports some three thousand turtles a year.
+They arrive in batches of one hundred or more every fortnight by the
+Royal Mail steamers from Kingston, Jamaica, and are obtained from the
+coral reefs lying to the north of the island of Jamaica. Twelve to
+fifteen small schooners are employed in the trade, and upwards of a
+hundred and twenty men.
+
+[Illustration: A CONSIGNMENT OF TURTLES AT A LONDON TERMINUS. [_From a
+Photograph._]]
+
+These fishers of strange “fish” (the turtle’s technical name) stretch
+nets of twine from rock to rock, and the moment the turtle feels itself
+entangled it clings tenaciously to the meshes, and is then hauled to
+the surface. The schooners in due time return to Kingston with from
+eighty to a hundred and fifty of these remarkable creatures, which
+are promptly deposited in palisaded enclosures, flooded at every tide
+by the sea. Here they are fed upon a certain kind of herbage known as
+“turtle grass,” and taken as required. The bringing of these creatures
+overseas is a very delicate business, and frequently sixty out of a
+hundred perish _en route_, in spite of the most elaborate precautions,
+such as the constant spraying of salt water daily on board the mail
+steamer, and the use of foot warmers for the turtles in the railway
+vans from Southampton to Waterloo. Before now, Mr. Bellis has lost
+eighty-eight turtles out of a shipment of a hundred.
+
+This susceptibility to travel is one of the most remarkable things
+about the turtle. If you are anxious to transport him alive it is a
+hundred to one he perishes of cold, but if you do succeed in getting
+him home the difficulty then is to kill him. The vitality of this
+strange sea creature after decapitation is almost beyond belief. Mr.
+Bellis once sent a large turtle to an hotel in Newcastle. The _chef_
+cut the turtle’s head off and hung the body upside down to bleed.
+Twenty-four hours after that turtle knocked down a man cook with one
+blow of its fin! The green turtle is not a vicious creature to handle,
+like its snapping Japanese brother, but its fins are very strong, and
+one blow from them is quite sufficient to break a man’s arm.
+
+Mr. Frank T. Bullen gives a remarkable instance of the tenacious hold
+of the turtle upon life. “On one occasion,” he records, “our men cut
+all the flesh and entrails of a turtle away, leaving only the head
+and tail attached to the shell. Some time had elapsed since the meat
+had been scooped out of the carapace, and no one imagined that any
+life remained in the extremities. But a young Dane, noticing that the
+down-hanging head had its mouth wide open, very foolishly inserted two
+fingers between those horny mandibles. It closed, and our shipmate
+was two fingers short, the edges of the turtle’s jaws had taken them
+clean off, with only the muscular power remaining in the head. Then
+another man tried to cut the horny tail off, but as soon as his keen
+blade touched it on the underside it curled up and gripped his knife so
+firmly that it was nearly an hour before the blade could be withdrawn.”
+Signor Redi, the great zoologist, records how he once cut a turtle’s
+head off and noted that it lived for twenty-three days without a head,
+and another whose brains he removed lived for six months.
+
+The green turtle, the species favoured in this country, is not a
+carnivorous creature, like the snapping-turtle, its food being a
+particular kind of sea grass found on the coral reefs in the West
+Indies. Some time ago Mr. Bellis brought a large quantity of this grass
+to London, with the idea of feeding the creatures in captivity, but
+they refused to take it. In his cellars in the City one can see any
+day a number of these turtles. Here they are kept until a telegram
+arrives from a distant hotel, when away goes the turtle to be turned
+into soup for the forthcoming banquet. Those hotels which do not care
+about the trouble of killing the creature can procure the soup in tins
+and bottles direct from the importer, and it is not surprising to learn
+that large quantities are sold. It requires eight pounds of the best
+turtle-flesh to make one quart of soup.
+
+The green turtle grows to an immense size, but it has been found
+that specimens weighing more than a hundred and fifty pounds are not
+desirable, the flesh becoming coarse as the animal increases in weight.
+The shell of this variety is practically valueless, but the hawksbill
+turtle yields what is popularly known as “tortoiseshell,” and the
+armour covering of a good specimen may be worth eight pounds. Its
+flesh, however, is too coarse for consumption, though here it should
+be added that it is doubtful whether those who occasionally partake
+of green-turtle soup would relish that made from the flesh of the
+snapping-turtle.
+
+It is a notorious fact that turtles grow very slowly and attain a great
+age. Curiously enough, neither Mr. Hattori nor Mr. Bellis can tell to
+what age a snapping or green turtle will live. Mr. Hattori has quite a
+number of turtles that are known to be from thirty to fifty years of
+age, while some of the bigger specimens that arrive at Waterloo for the
+Bellis cellars are, it is believed, twelve to fifteen years old.
+
+[Illustration: TURTLES IN MR. BELLIS’S CELLARS IN THE CITY OF LONDON.
+
+_From a Photo. by Conolly & Goatam._]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: SHORT STORIES.]
+
+
+THE AMBASSADOR’S TRUNK.
+
+BY E. A. MORPHY, LATE EDITOR OF THE “STRAITS TIMES,” SINGAPORE.
+
+The circumstances of this little smuggling incident, though known to
+several persons in the Far East, have hitherto been hidden, so to
+speak, under a bushel. In bringing them to the light it should be
+stated that--for obvious reasons--fictitious names have been given to
+the individuals chiefly concerned, but the facts are just as stated.
+
+Far and away the most distinguished passenger on the big German liner
+was the homeward bound Japanese Ambassador. He did not look the part,
+however. He was a squat, unobtrusive little man whose trousers fitted
+him badly, and whose carriage, when he was hampered by European
+clothes, suggested an insignificance that was only partially belied by
+the intelligence of his homely countenance. His appearance reflected no
+radiant blaze of glory, yet he was returning to his native land crowned
+with some of the finest diplomatic achievements of the century.
+
+This statement is due to his Excellency, but it practically dismisses
+him from the story, which mainly concerns his trunk--his trunk No. 23,
+to be precise, for the Ambassador’s trunks were all numbered. There
+must have been half a hundred of them at least; all the same typical
+German steel trunks, but distinguished from other less important trunks
+of the same make insomuch that each one was adorned with two broad
+painted bands of scarlet, which showed out bravely and effectually
+prevented their being mixed up with any ordinary baggage. Apart
+from all other considerations, the wisdom of the Ambassador in thus
+distinctively marking his own trunks lay in the fact that the process
+insured their instant recognition by the Japanese Customs officials, by
+whom they were immune from examination.
+
+This last fact was the one which counted for most with Fritz Vogel,
+steward and trombonist of the liner, as he daily contemplated the
+mountain of luggage and calculated how many Manila cigars one of those
+great red-striped trunks would hold.
+
+[Illustration: “HE DAILY CONTEMPLATED THE MOUNTAIN OF LUGGAGE AND
+CALCULATED HOW MANY MANILA CIGARS ONE OF THOSE GREAT RED-STRIPED TRUNKS
+WOULD HOLD.”]
+
+Carefully packed, he figured it, one might crowd ten thousand cigars
+into each trunk. Ten thousand cigars, at eighty Mexican dollars a
+thousand, meant eighty pounds. Duty at one hundred and fifty per
+cent. _ad valorem_ on eighty pounds would mean a hundred and twenty
+pounds, or, as Fritz Vogel calculated, two thousand four hundred
+marks. Therefore, as the meditative trombonist further worked out
+the possibilities, his Excellency could, by simply loading up a few
+dozen more trunks with cigars at Hong-Kong and getting them passed
+free through the Customs at Yokohama--or at Nagasaki or Kobe for that
+matter--make more in a week than he could hope to earn in a month of
+Sundays by sticking to the thorny paths of diplomacy.
+
+Born west of the Suez, the fertile idea germinated in Vogel’s brain
+all through the dreary wastes of the Canal, and sprouted up green and
+vigorous, despite the withering blasts that pursued the liner down the
+Red Sea and across the Indian Ocean to Colombo. At Singapore it had
+become an obsession. When steaming through the Narrows into the latter
+port, however, on the way to the German mail wharf, Vogel observed
+a red-funnelled Jardine liner at the Messageries wharf, with the
+blue-peter flying.
+
+An hour later the _Laisang_ left for China, carrying a hastily-written
+letter from Fritz Vogel to his friend Max Krebs at Hong-Kong. It
+contained a fair statement of the salient facts in the case, and a
+crude but lucid sketch of one of the pieces of baggage, together with a
+description of the scarlet bands and full measurements. It also stated
+what has not been set forth above--that each of his Excellency’s trunks
+was numbered in large white figures at each end and on the top, and it
+suggested that in the case of any person desiring to have access to
+those trunks whilst they were still on board the liner, Nos. 23, 24,
+27, 32, etc., were the easiest to reach.
+
+Mr. Krebs was a “runner” for a native compradoring firm. He went out
+to the ships to “drum up” business for his employers, who supplied
+anything and everything that a ship could require, from cigarettes to
+engine-oil. In the old days before the Russian War Mr. Vogel had done
+a good deal of trade with Mr. Krebs on the short run between Yokohama
+and Hong-Kong. But the stringent Customs regulations that had ensued
+upon the increased tariffs imposed after the war had practically
+killed the business, save so far as concerned a paltry bit of trading
+with passengers in faked curios, and the occasional disposal of a few
+imitation gems to homeward-bound tourists when the vessel was west of
+Colombo.
+
+Opportunities like the return of an Ambassador to Japan did not occur
+once in a blue moon.
+
+The liner tarried a day and a half over cargo at Singapore, and the
+_Laisang_ got into Hong-Kong nearly twenty-four hours ahead of her. Mr.
+Vogel learned the fact the moment the German liner arrived at the big
+China port, and his heart was filled with sickening apprehension. He
+had been dreaming of trunks full of cigars--German steel trunks with
+red bands, and numbered with big white characters--ever since he left
+Singapore. He had marked off the state-room wherein, until the proper
+psychological moment, the extra trunks--if any--could be stored safely.
+He had mentally arranged every other detail in his projected bid for
+fortune, and had even marked down those of his comrades who should be
+selected as his accomplices. He had counted over, time and time again,
+the round thousand marks that would be his personal profit out of every
+trunk full of cigars he could pass through the Yokohama Customs as
+the baggage of the returning Ambassador. He did all this while still
+faithfully, if mechanically, discharging his onerous duties as steward
+and master of the trombone.
+
+[Illustration: “A NOTE WAS HANDED TO HIM BY A CHINESE MESSENGER.”]
+
+It was not until a few hours after the arrival of the steamer in
+Hong-Kong--hours that felt like ages--that Vogel heard from Krebs. A
+note was handed to him by a Chinese messenger boy, and Vogel opened it
+with feverish impatience. Mr. Krebs wrote with that laconic brevity
+of diction which indicates the resourceful mind. “Will send you one
+trunk.--O. K.,” it read.
+
+Mr. Vogel pondered for a moment whether “O. K.” meant Oscar Krebs or
+“All correct” (American fashion); then he heaved a great sigh of relief
+as he realized that it was all the same.
+
+That evening Mr. Krebs came on board unostentatiously, and a big
+trunk wrapped in rough sacking came with him, and was temporarily
+stowed away by Mr. Vogel in one of the state-rooms which held some of
+the Ambassador’s spare boxes. Thence it was subsequently carried to
+another cabin, where there were some spare things of Mr. Vogel’s. Had
+a hypercritical observer subsequently studied all the trunks in the
+Ambassador’s collection he might have noticed that one of them appeared
+to be the least trifle newer than the rest, but it would have taken
+a Sherlock Holmes to detect the circumstance off-hand. The trunk in
+question was numbered “23.”
+
+In due time the liner arrived at Yokohama, but the mails that had
+been forwarded overland from Nagasaki reached there a day before her.
+Thus it came about that when the Ambassador’s baggage was franked
+through the Custom House and sent up to the Imperial Hotel at Tokio,
+two friends of Messrs. Krebs and Vogel were installed as guests at the
+last-named establishment. Thus also it came about that, thanks to ten
+yen well spent on a porter, the Ambassador’s trunk, No. 23, was whisked
+away to the nether cellars of the hotel the moment it arrived there,
+and--as the Ambassador himself did at an earlier stage--it virtually
+passes out of this story. That is to say, what must have been the ghost
+of the Ambassador’s trunk vanishes from mortal view; but not so the
+real article. When the diplomat’s baggage was supposed to be all in,
+and a count was taken, trunk No. 23 was found to be missing.
+
+The row that ensued was something awful. Telegraphs and telephones were
+called into requisition, and imperative, not to say drastic, orders
+were dispatched to the Customs authorities at Yokohama, to the railway
+authorities at Shimbashi, and to all other authorities everywhere,
+commanding them to instantly produce his Excellency’s missing trunk.
+
+[Illustration: “THEY HAD PASSED IT AND FORWARDED IT, AND GOT A RECEIPT
+FOR IT.”]
+
+The Customs authorities declared they had not got the trunk; they had
+passed it and forwarded it, and got a receipt for it. There could be no
+doubt, from their point of view, that the Ambassador had taken delivery
+of his trunk No. 23. The railway authorities were equally agreed on
+the same point. The baggage was all in special carriages; not a pin
+could have been lost between Yokohama and the Shimbashi station at the
+capital, whence it had been handed over to his Excellency’s servants
+for removal to the hotel. The police authorities were equally certain
+that there had been no hanky-panky business of any kind. It would have
+been impossible for one of the Ambassador’s trunks to go astray or be
+stolen, either in the streets of the seaport or in the capital itself.
+The steamship authorities had a receipt for every article. They knew
+the Ambassador’s trunks, and especial care had been taken of them
+throughout the voyage. Nevertheless, they would again investigate.
+
+Then, Banzai! there came a telegram from the chief purser of the
+liner:--
+
+“_Ambassador’s trunk No. 23 found on board. Must have been left behind
+inadvertently. Forwarding to Tokio at once._”
+
+The little Custom House inspectors looked at the newly-found trunk in
+utter stupefaction.
+
+“Truly,” said they, “we passed this identical trunk not three hours
+ago.”
+
+“_Hayako!_” (Hurry, there!) shouted the head inspector, as they dallied
+over the mystery. “His Excellency waits!”
+
+[Illustration: “THE LITTLE CUSTOM HOUSE INSPECTORS LOOKED AT THE
+NEWLY-FOUND TRUNK IN UTTER STUPEFACTION.”]
+
+The trunk was expressed up to the Imperial Hotel by special train.
+
+Ten minutes later the Director of His Imperial Majesty’s Customs
+at Yokohama ordered a Commission of Inquiry into the matter of the
+registering as received and delivered of one Ambassador’s trunk, No.
+23, when the same had never either been received from the liner or
+delivered to the railway or to any other authorities by His Imperial
+Majesty’s Customs. The matter was also taken in hand by the Imperial
+Railway and by the Tokio and Kanagawa police authorities.
+
+Though a couple of years have passed since these investigations were
+inaugurated, no definite finding in the matter has yet been officially
+published. In certain quarters, however, there is a consensus of
+opinion that such a trunk did really pass through the Yokohama Customs,
+but that it was a phantom one.
+
+Mr. Vogel took away two thousand two hundred yen (two hundred and
+twenty pounds) from Yokohama that trip. At Hong-Kong, nine days later,
+he settled up with Mr. Krebs.
+
+The cigars and trunk had cost nine hundred dollars, while the expenses
+and “commissions” in Japan amounted to a trifle less than three hundred
+dollars. There was a balance of a thousand dollars to divide, and they
+duly divided it.
+
+
+HALF AN HOUR IN A BLAZING FURNACE.
+
+BY GEORGE S. GUY.
+
+One of the most remarkable and appalling experiences possible to
+conceive recently befell a young man named Robert Perry, at Apedale,
+in Staffordshire. Tramping about the country in search of work, he
+arrived one night, utterly tired out, at an ironworks, and unwittingly
+took shelter in an “air furnace,” used for the purpose of reducing
+very large pieces of iron, too large to be dealt with in the ordinary
+way. As it happened, the fire-bars of this particular furnace had been
+taken out, and Perry had no difficulty in creeping through the opening
+and thus making his way inside. Here he had to mount a wall five feet
+in height, and eventually reached the melting chamber, which at the
+time contained about five tons of iron waiting to be smelted. Arrived
+at this point, in blissful ignorance of the dangerous character of the
+place he had selected to sleep in, and appreciating only its dryness
+and seclusion, he lay down to rest. Exactly why he should have selected
+such a strange bedchamber it is impossible to say, but tramps have
+been known to choose even stranger quarters--such as lime-kilns and
+brick-kilns. Anyhow, the fact remains that he went into the furnace
+to sleep. What happened afterwards is told below, from information
+gathered partly from the man himself and partly from other persons who
+figured in his terrible adventure.
+
+After a long walk in the broiling sun Perry arrived at Apedale quite
+exhausted, and set about looking for a snug, dry place where he could
+lie down and have a sleep. During his weary tramp he had been no
+stranger to curious resting-places, and he had spent the previous night
+under a railway arch. Presently he came across the smelting works of
+the Midland Coal, Coke, and Iron Company, and, seeing a furnace which
+he took to be unused, examined it intently. The wide, open front of
+the contrivance looked tempting, and he decided to make its interior
+his abode for the night. Crawling into the opening for some little
+distance, he discovered that he had a wall five feet in height to climb
+over, but scaled it without much trouble. Beyond he found himself in
+pitch-darkness, but clambered cautiously onwards, trying to find a
+comfortable place to lie down. Proceeding up a slope, he reached a sort
+of chamber beyond, where a number of great pieces of iron were lying
+about. Here the weary man lay down, and, being very tired, it did not
+take him long to fall asleep. Let him tell the manner of his awakening
+in his own words.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: FIRE-GRATE WHERE PERRY CRAWLED IN.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+I do not exactly know what awoke me, but upon trying to raise myself
+a frightful choking feeling came over me, and I became conscious of
+great heat. Then, like a flash, I realized what a dreadful mistake I
+had made, and what a terrible situation I was in. The furnace was _not_
+disused, and now the workmen had lit it, and I was a prisoner inside!
+For a moment I felt sick with horror, but it did not take me long to
+pull myself together and try to find a way out.
+
+[Illustration: PLAN OF THE FURNACE--THE CROSS DENOTES WHERE PERRY
+SLEPT.]
+
+The whole place was in total darkness. Although I could hear a dull
+roaring somewhere, and feel the waves of heated air and fumes passing
+over me, I could not see the slightest sign of any light. Tremblingly
+I felt up and down the sides of my prison to see if I could find a
+door, but nothing of the kind could I discover. I tried to retreat
+farther into the furnace to get away from that awful heat, but had
+to return and face it again. Now, with a sickening heart, I saw that
+flames were approaching my position. Thinking my end was near at hand,
+I decided at all costs to go down the slope. This meant that I must
+face the fire, which was now licking up towards me, sucked inwards
+by the tremendous draught. Shivering with horror I made the attempt,
+but the heat and flames were unendurable, and beat me back. Then,
+crouching down, I worked myself along the side, thinking this my best
+plan. At last--Heaven alone knows how--I reached the foot of the wall.
+In a half-dazed, choking condition, I tried to climb up, but was met
+by a veritable hurricane of fierce flames, which knocked me down and
+burnt all the hair off my head. Half-blinded, scorched, and with my
+brain benumbed from the effects of the fumes, I still did not quite
+lose heart: something seemed to force me on to make a struggle for
+life. Suddenly, as I lay there gasping in that inferno of heat and
+flame, I heard voices outside, but I could not understand what was
+said. I wondered dully whether, if I called out, the men I could hear
+speaking would hear me, so, in my agony of physical suffering and
+mental distress, I shouted, “O Lord, save me! O Lord, save me!” The
+murmur of voices still went on, but presently one man evidently heard
+my cries, and called out to a “Mr. Phillips” that he thought he heard
+a shout for help. This, however, Mr. Phillips--who seemed to be the
+foreman--ridiculed, and they went on working as before.
+
+I was now on the verge of giving up; my strength seemed to be failing
+me, but I decided to make one final attempt to get on the wall. I am
+glad to say that it was not in vain, and after a desperate struggle I
+succeeded in reaching the top. This seemed to renew my energy, and I
+braced myself for what I knew was my last hope. I gave one horrified
+glance at the furnace below, the flames roaring and leaping madly, and
+then, with all the strength of my fire-scorched lungs, I shrieked out
+once more, “O Lord, save me!”
+
+The men outside stopped work at once.
+
+“Did you hear that?” cried one, excitedly; “I heard it quite distinctly
+that time; someone is shouting out ‘Lord, save me’!” This time Mr.
+Phillips admitted that he _did_ think he heard a noise as if someone
+was calling out, but where could it come from? It was impossible for
+anyone to be in the furnace alive, for the fire had been going for some
+time. Then someone else said, “Open the fire-door and see if you can
+see anything.”
+
+The fire-door! Where was it, I wondered--far away or near at hand?
+Then, to my great joy, I heard them releasing a bolt just a few feet
+from where I was. At last it opened--a place about a foot square--and
+I saw daylight streaming in and then a man’s face. He peered in
+anxiously, but evidently he could not see me, for I was now as black as
+the furnace itself. Then he seemed to half-close the door and I nearly
+swooned away, for this was my last chance.
+
+Desperately I strove to shout, but the heat, flames, and smoke
+prevented my uttering a sound save a choking gasp. Fortunately for
+myself, however, I moved, and the watcher happened to catch sight of
+something about me--probably the whites of my eyes shining in the
+reflected light. “Good God!” he cried. “There’s a man in the furnace!
+Pull the bars out as quickly as you can.”
+
+[Illustration: “I FOUND MYSELF FALLING--RIGHT ON TO THE HUGE FIRE.”]
+
+I did not trouble to think what or where the bars were; I knew only
+that the men had seen me and would do everything in their power to get
+me out. I heard them pulling the bars out in frantic haste, and saw Mr.
+Phillips trying to squeeze himself through the small fire-door.
+
+With my flesh scorching and my breath rapidly failing me in that awful
+whirlwind of heat and flame, I put my arms down for him to catch hold
+of. He seized me by the elbows and told me to jump, but this I could
+not do, for I felt too far gone. With that he gave me a jerk, and I
+found myself falling--right on to the huge fire! The bars were out, and
+the fire was keeping itself together by the pressure of one block of
+coal on another; but when my weight came upon it, it collapsed, sending
+up a rush of flames all around me. To my intense horror, I felt the
+skin on my arms giving way, but the courageous Mr. Phillips did not
+release his hold. His hands were now on my wrists, and, exerting all
+his strength, he pulled me up towards the door.
+
+The pain of my burns was simply fearful, and I could have shrieked with
+agony, but somehow, except for a few moans, I kept quiet.
+
+[Illustration: ROBERT PERRY AS HE APPEARED AFTER HIS DISCHARGE FROM THE
+INFIRMARY.
+
+[_From a Photograph._]]
+
+Presently the foreman succeeded in pulling me out of the small door,
+but I felt as if dead, and as though I was shrivelling up and growing
+smaller. As I lay on the ground, in agonizing pain, I appealed to the
+men to strangle me. Again and again, in semi-delirium, I repeated the
+request: “I’m done for! Strangle me! strangle me!” My whole body seemed
+to be on fire, but my rescuers lost no time. Procuring some oil, they
+saturated me with it, thus, in a measure, soothing the pain. Then they
+got me on to an ambulance and rushed me off to the Chell Infirmary,
+where I received every care and attention.
+
+Never, so long as I live, shall I forget the terrible time I endured
+in the furnace, and my unspeakable joy when I saw Mr. Phillips at the
+fire-door.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I am indebted to Mr. Hill, the general manager of the above-mentioned
+company, for a plan of the furnace. It may be interesting to add that,
+even had Perry contrived to shelter himself from the flames at the
+foot of the wall he mentions, he would very soon have met with a death
+too awful to contemplate, as the molten iron would have flowed down
+and overwhelmed him. The authorities inform me that Perry’s adventure
+is altogether unprecedented in the whole of their experience. At the
+moment when his first cry was heard the furnace had been alight for
+some considerable time, having been started with a large quantity of
+wood and many barrow-loads of hot coal in order to raise the heat
+quickly!
+
+[Illustration: MR. PHILLIPS STANDING BY THE FIRE-DOOR THROUGH WHICH
+PERRY WAS DRAGGED.
+
+[_From a Photograph._]]
+
+
+THE HEADLESS WOMAN.
+
+BY CHARLES NEEDHAM.
+
+I had just recovered from a troublesome throat affection, and under
+the doctor’s orders had moved out of town for a spell of fresh air
+and quieter surroundings, selecting the little village of Canewdon,
+in South-East Essex, as my retreat. I had always had an eye on the
+village, first making its acquaintance whilst yachting off the coast
+and in the River Crouch, where my boat had its permanent berth.
+
+Canewdon is actually little more than a straggling hamlet four miles
+by road to the north of Rochford, and about nine from Southend-on-Sea.
+It required only a very short residence there for me to find that the
+secluded little place considered it had its own corner in history, and
+a very pretty turn in folk-lore and superstition as well. To begin
+with, Canewdon claims King Canute as one of its founders, and its
+domestic romances and tragedies would make a presentable volume in the
+hands of a scribbling antiquary. It had, however, something more than
+mere history, and far less to my liking, for me to feed my imagination
+upon, as I was soon to discover.
+
+[Illustration: THE OLD COTTAGE AT CANEWDON IN WHICH THE AUTHOR RESIDED.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+After a good look round I settled upon a comfortable old cottage, with
+a small garden traversed by a brook, only a very short distance from
+the ancient, square-towered church. Into this, having taken it at a
+very moderate rental, I moved a small amount of furniture, my books,
+and other paraphernalia, and prepared to settle down to the life of
+a hermit for a time. The woman who came from close by to “do” for me
+looked upon me, I fancy, as something of a curiosity, but, for some
+reason I had not then discovered, she seemed a little uneasy at my
+solitary existence. She would remark that I must be lonely, or that it
+was unlikely that I should stop in the place very long. I put all this
+down to a friendly disposition, coupled with a desire to draw me out as
+to my place in the larger world I had dropped from so suddenly.
+
+For the first day or two matters went smoothly enough, and I began to
+feel that my choice of locality had been a lucky and inexpensive one.
+Then something occurred which startled me sufficiently to make me alter
+my opinion.
+
+I always used the little kitchen at meal-times for convenience’ sake,
+and one night I remained there reading until very late, the kitchen
+being lit only by one small lamp at my back. I had just closed my
+book--it was about one o’clock--and was summoning the effort required
+to take me bedwards, when I noticed a very slight movement of the iron
+latch upon the door leading into the back garden. My thoughts naturally
+flew to burglars. The locality was lonely, and no doubt my coming had
+been duly talked over in the village with all the exaggeration and
+surmise an out-of-the-way place is capable of.
+
+I was, of course, considerably startled, and sat watching the latch
+slowly rise, evidently actuated by a very delicate and even pressure
+from without. The door itself was bolted at both top and bottom, and
+when the latch had risen clear of the hasp I fully expected to hear the
+bolts rattle as the person outside put his weight against the door to
+try it. But nothing of the sort happened; the latch, after remaining
+suspended for a moment, fell back again into place as slowly and evenly
+as it had risen.
+
+Startled and puzzled as I was, I still held to my belief that this
+must be a timid attempt at robbery, and that, finding the back door
+locked, the intruder would try the front one also. Nor was I wrong,
+for I had scarcely slipped quietly into the sitting-room and taken up
+my position when the latch there began to rise in precisely the same
+manner. This door possessed only one bolt, and that at the bottom, so
+that the door, an old and ill-fitting one, would show the slightest
+pressure at once. But none was placed upon it, and the latch fell into
+place as evenly and noiselessly as before. By this time I must confess
+to being slightly scared, and when a chair banged heavily on the floor
+and a loud shout of “Who’s that?” brought no sound of a retreating
+shuffle on the cobble-stones outside, I had to summon all my remaining
+courage to unbar and fling open the door. Not a soul or a sound met me
+as I stepped outside. The night was a light one in early September, so
+that a retreating figure could have been followed by the eye for twenty
+or thirty yards. After a careful look round the garden I went to bed
+nonplussed at the weirdness of the whole affair.
+
+The following day brought another intruder--a material one this time.
+I found that during the morning a travelling caravan had taken a pitch
+just outside my hedge; and its owner turned out to be an Oxford man,
+who, with his wife, was leading a vagabond life about the shires. He
+was an extremely well-read man, and we soon got on the best of terms,
+exchanging books and opinions, till he inspanned for pastures new a
+week later. The night before he left I was treated to another queer
+happening.
+
+We had been talking and reading in my tiny sitting-room till about
+eleven o’clock, when my vagabond friend bade me a sleepy “Good night”
+and opened the front door. He had, however, only just put his foot on
+the cobbles when he stepped backwards with a sharp exclamation, and a
+scared look on his face.
+
+“What’s up?” I asked.
+
+“It’s awfully queer,” he replied; “I could have sworn I saw a face
+looking straight at me close to that bush”--he pointed to the privet
+hedge at the left of the door--“but there didn’t seem to be any body to
+it. I’m certainly not drunk, but I may have been dreaming.”
+
+After my recent experience, which I had not thought it worth while
+to mention to such a hard-headed soul as my chance companion, I felt
+anything but comfortable. We were both rather ashamed of our brief
+lapse from common sense, and laughed the incident off as best we might.
+
+The following day found me in all the doubtful glory of my solitude
+once more, and I must confess to having been thankful when an
+invitation reached me that same evening, from friends at Fambridge, for
+a few days’ fishing.
+
+I have never suffered from that popular present-day malady known as
+“nerves,” possibly because of an open-air existence with plenty of
+exercise, but, though I had only been there a short time, the cottage
+and the locality now seemed to have become almost uncanny to me. Had
+I mixed more with the inhabitants, I should have discovered, as I did
+later, that this strange feeling was not without some foundation.
+
+The few days I spent in Fambridge put all thought of the two queer
+incidents out of my mind, which will show that the subsequent events
+were not the outcome of an overtaxed imagination or a course of long
+brooding upon disquieting phenomena.
+
+It must have been about nine o’clock in the evening that my Fambridge
+friend put a little Welsh pony into his governess-car to drive me back
+the four odd miles to my cottage. The night was fine, but there were
+clouds about and no moon, so that objects outside the radius of the
+lamps were hard to distinguish. The pony had already had a fairly hard
+day of it along the coast, but he was a sturdy little beast and pulled
+like a steam-engine, rattling us down to the outskirts of Canewdon in
+excellent time.
+
+We had been bowling along, talking about the day’s sport, and were
+now rapidly nearing a stile leading to a footpath upon the left of
+the road, which takes one by a short cut across a field, over another
+stile, into the churchyard, and so into the village High Street. We
+had barely reached the stile when the pony pulled up short, reared,
+and refused to go another step in that direction. The pony, always a
+strong and willing little chap, had never done such a thing in his life
+before, and my friend was not only puzzled but annoyed. A sound beating
+had no more effect than words of encouragement; there the little beggar
+stuck, his four legs splayed out, the picture of all that was most
+stubborn in nature, whilst we two sat in the car trying to devise some
+plan by which to budge him.
+
+My friend was at last obliged to ask me to take the short cut I have
+just spoken of instead of being driven round by the road the remaining
+mile and a half to my cottage. I was, of course, willing enough. The
+short cut would take me barely ten minutes, and I had very little
+to carry; so, bidding him “Good night,” I jumped out. As I came from
+behind the trap I noticed a tiny flickering light a few yards ahead,
+upon the left-hand side of the road, but it was very dim and did not
+arrest my attention sufficiently to make any impression on the mind. I
+was able to lead the pony round without any difficulty, and when his
+head faced Fambridge he seemed to recover his spirits at once, and the
+red points behind the lamps receded at a rattling pace up the road.
+When these had disappeared I turned again to climb the stile, but
+became at once uneasily conscious of something unusual a little way
+ahead of me.
+
+The spot the pony had refused at was a good deal shadowed by large
+elms, and these, together with the cloudy sky, made the road still
+more obscure. The small light, which I had taken little notice of at
+first--thinking it probably one of the village lights showing through
+the trees--was still ahead; only, instead of being upon the left of
+the road, it was now upon the right. For a few seconds I stood looking
+at it, feeling very much like turning tail and bolting down the road.
+The flame, for it was no other, showed greeny--white against the black
+background and shivered in a strange, eerie way.
+
+The most extraordinary part of the business was that it seemed to come
+from nothing visible, but to appear, as it were, burning in space three
+or four feet above the road.
+
+[Illustration: “THIS MYSTERIOUS SOMETHING TOOK THREE RAPID STRIDES
+ACROSS THE ROAD AND DISAPPEARED.”]
+
+I had, of course, read ghost stories in which “corpse candles” and
+ghostly lights of one sort and another figured largely, but I had never
+expected to come across one, and this could be translated in no other
+way.[2] The close proximity of the churchyard, with the square tower of
+the church itself showing through the trees, added too much colour to
+the scene to my liking; but, scared though I was, a certain fascination
+took hold of me, and I advanced a step or two in order to examine the
+phenomenon at closer range. I had scarcely taken two paces, however,
+when the clouds parted a little, giving a better light beneath the
+trees, and at the same moment the weird flame flickered wildly and
+went out.
+
+[Footnote 2: The light somewhat resembled the _ignis fatuus_, or
+will-o’-the-wisp, but was larger and greener in colour. Moreover, there
+was no pond or marshy ground anywhere near the road.]
+
+But this was not to be the end of my ghostly experience. The stronger
+light brought many roadside objects into prominence, and the moment
+the flame disappeared I became conscious of an indistinct black blotch
+against the lighter background of the hedge. It was, of course, too
+dark for me to be certain of its exact shape, even had I been in a calm
+enough state of mind to take in details; but in any case I was allowed
+only a momentary glimpse, for whilst I stood with the breath caught in
+my throat, this mysterious something took three rapid strides across
+the road and disappeared without a sound into the thick hawthorn hedge
+opposite.
+
+At this stage I must confess to having lost all control of myself.
+Without another look I took to my heels and ran, as though all the
+powers of darkness were behind me.
+
+The scare I had got made me quite oblivious of my direction, but I
+suppose natural instinct guided me, for I found myself at last, almost
+pumped out, trotting into the little High Street of Canewdon by the
+road along which I should have driven, and no doubt in far better time.
+I had no relish, in my then state of mind, for another lonely night in
+the cottage, although it stood only fifty yards away, so I made my way
+to the Chequers, the only inn the village possessed, and asked for a
+bed.
+
+My recent arrival in the place had given me little time to become
+acquainted with the village notables, but I fancy the landlady knew me
+by sight, and no doubt thought the request strange. In any case her
+“Certainly, sir,” was followed by a close scrutiny. “You’re looking
+very queer, sir,” she added; “has anything happened?”
+
+Surrounded by more human elements, I began to feel thoroughly ashamed
+of myself, and rather doubted the wisdom of giving the narrative away;
+but the thought that, perhaps, being a resident, she might be able to
+throw some light upon my weird experience finally decided me to make a
+clean breast of the whole affair; and I promptly did so in the little
+inn-parlour.
+
+I had barely got half-way through the incident upon the road when she
+sat back in her chair, and said in a quiet, almost matter-of-fact
+tone:--
+
+“You’ve seen the headless woman, sir.”
+
+“The headless woman?” I asked, startled. “Who’s she?”
+
+“I may as well tell you,” she replied, “though we don’t talk of it much
+here. Have you noticed a wooden house painted white, and standing alone
+about a hundred yards this way from the stile on the Fambridge road?”
+
+I said that I had, and thought it was a farmhouse.
+
+“Well, so it was till the murder happened,” replied the woman. “The
+story goes that somewhere about forty years ago a farmer there took to
+drink, went mad, and murdered his wife. He didn’t stop at that, either,
+for he cut off her head and buried it, and it wasn’t found till some
+time after the body had had decent burial.”
+
+“So she’s supposed to haunt the place?” I asked.
+
+“There’s no suppose about it, sir,” she replied, very quietly; “a tidy
+few people here have seen her, much the same as you did. My husband
+has, too, by the stile leading into the churchyard. It took him a week
+in bed to get over it. Sometimes it’s just a face, and sometimes just
+a black bundle like a body without a head; but always near one of them
+two stiles, and round about harvest time. Heaven send I never see the
+sight!” she concluded, devoutly.
+
+“I’m not particularly anxious to renew the acquaintance myself,” I
+replied, “but how do you account for the lifting of my latch?”
+
+“Well, I can’t say for certain, sir, but, if my memory serves me, there
+was a gaffer living in your cottage--he’s dead now many a year--who
+used to work at the White House and was there when the murder happened.
+He saw her pretty often in his garden, I’m told, but couldn’t be got to
+speak of it. It may be she walks there too.”
+
+I spent a very mixed kind of night at the inn, and on the following
+day returned to Fambridge and less ghostly company. From here I made
+arrangements for a change of quarters, and from that day to this I have
+not set eyes upon Canewdon, nor have I any inclination to do so.
+
+This strange happening is perhaps too strange for everybody’s
+belief. My “spirituous” state at the time is an opinion largely
+held by chaffing friends; but I ask that three points be taken into
+consideration. I am practically a teetotaller; my imagination is no
+more abnormal than that of most of my fellows; and, lastly, no whisper
+of ghostly visitations in the village had reached my ears prior to the
+narrative as told by the landlady.
+
+The whole affair would make an interesting little piece of
+investigation for the Psychical Research Society.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: SOME SAVAGE PASTIMES.]
+
+BY E. WAY ELKINGTON, F.R.G.S.
+
+    Savages, big and little, play games like other folk, and some
+    of their methods of amusing themselves are very curious indeed.
+    Mr. Elkington has made a collection of the least-known and most
+    peculiar pastimes, and here describes and illustrates them.
+
+
+Throughout the world there is a peculiar similarity in the games of
+the human race, and undoubtedly they all spring from the same sources,
+being the result of imitation, by children, of the duties and pleasures
+of the elder generation. In the savage races, however, we find them
+in their most primitive and interesting state, and in this article I
+propose to describe a few of the least known and most peculiar--some
+which I have myself witnessed, and others that I have collected from
+well-known travellers.
+
+As with ourselves, it is not only the children who play, and the
+pastimes of their grown-up brothers are equally interesting. Naturally
+the games of the elders require more skill, and in some cases
+considerably more endurance and fortitude. For instance, the whip game,
+played by the red-men of British Guiana, is one that calls forth the
+most enduring qualities of these sturdy natives, and is an ordeal in
+which few Englishmen would care to take part. The origin of it is not
+known; some say that it was originally an act in a burial scene, but
+more probably it is a festival game.
+
+For all functions in Guiana a copious supply of drink is prepared, the
+local name of which is “paiwarie.” This is a native-made fermented
+liquor, which has the desired effect, in its preliminary stages, of
+putting the drinkers into a good humour. After a certain quantity of
+“paiwarie” has been handed round, the players of the whip game, men and
+boys, line up in two rows facing one another; each is provided with a
+whip ornamented with fibre tassels, those of the two end players having
+whistles attached. When all is ready a gentle stamping is commenced,
+which gradually grows louder and louder till the earth begins to throb
+and the players show signs of getting worked up. Then shouts of “Yau,
+au!” are heard, and the now excited players wave their whips and sway
+gently backwards and forwards as they stamp their feet. Presently the
+two end men with the whistles attached to their whips pass down the
+centre of the row, whilst those lined up move slowly in an opposite
+direction. Now the stamping increases and the whistlers whistle at each
+other in wild excitement. Then they begin waving their whips at one
+other, feigning to strike with tremendous force, but finally they come
+down on their opponents’ calves with only a mere touch. After this has
+gone on for some time the two leaders run back to their original places
+at the head of the row, and others go out and do as they have done.
+
+When all the players have gone through this exhibition the real
+business begins; so far it has only been play.
+
+The women now come on to the scene bearing calabashes of wine, which is
+greedily swallowed, and then two of the players challenge each other to
+a real whipping competition.
+
+Silence soon prevails, and the onlookers take up their places ready to
+watch this extraordinary ordeal.
+
+As soon as the challenge has been accepted the two men step out in
+front of the audience and stand facing each other. As a rule they are
+splendidly-built fellows, and as they wear practically no clothing for
+this ceremony, their physical development is very noticeable.
+
+Cautiously they judge their distance, letting the lash of the whip
+just touch their adversary’s calf. When they have thoroughly satisfied
+themselves that they can get a perfect swing, one of them stands
+firmly, half turned away from the other, who immediately swings his
+whip with tremendous force and brings it down on his opponent’s calf
+with a crack like the report of a gun.
+
+[Illustration: THE EXTRAORDINARY “WHIP GAME” OF BRITISH GUIANA--THE
+COMPETITORS SLASH AT ONE ANOTHER’S BARE LEGS IN TURN, OFTEN CUTTING
+DEEP INTO THE FLESH. [_From a Photograph._]]
+
+The man who has received this blow, though it has in all probability
+cut right into his calf, does not flinch, but joins the whipper in a
+wild sort of dance, accompanied by loud shouts of “Yau, au!” Again the
+same man presents his calf to be cut at, again the lash descends, and
+more dancing follows, until it is time for the other man to go through
+the same ordeal. When he has had his share the two adjourn to the hut
+and indulge freely in “paiwarie,” and other players take their places,
+until all the grown-ups have tasted of the delights of the game. The
+younger fry then step forth and challenge each other. Women, of course,
+do not take any active part in this weird performance beyond handing
+round the drinks.
+
+Though this is rather a strenuous game, there are many less painful
+ones with which the children amuse themselves. One of these, called
+the “Jaguar Game,” is similar to our own “Fox and Geese.” A long
+procession of boys line up and grip each other by the shoulders, and
+sway backwards and forwards crying out, “There is no jaguar to-day!”
+Whilst they are singing this merrily, a youngster bears down upon them
+from his hiding-place amongst the onlookers. He comes running along
+on his hands and one leg, the other leg being raised in the air to
+represent the tail of the jaguar. On his appearance the whole line of
+boys is thrown into confusion; they grow wildly excited and swerve and
+sway, and dodge round, always keeping in a long, snake-like line, with
+the foremost boy facing their adversary, the jaguar. It is the jaguar’s
+duty to catch the last one in the row and bear him off to his lair.
+
+Sometimes this game is varied by the jaguar having two young cubs with
+her, who also run on “all threes”; they add greatly to the excitement
+of the sport by snapping, snarling, and generally behaving as young
+cubs should. The game goes on till all the row has been captured.
+
+In the “Monkey Game” laughter reaches its highest point, for this is
+one of the wildest they play; and not only the children indulge in it,
+but the grown-up men sometimes take it into their heads to play it,
+when it assumes a very different aspect. With the children it is pure
+fun, with little or no danger attaching to it.
+
+A crowd of youngsters line up and move about like monkeys who are
+merely enjoying themselves. Suddenly one of them stops and gives vent
+to a shriek of fear; the others take up the cry and immediately break
+their line and run wildly all over the place, chattering excitedly.
+When the simulated panic is at its height the smaller boys spring on to
+the backs of the bigger ones, and are raced about all over the place
+till fatigue puts an end to the fun. When their elders play the “Monkey
+Game,” however, they often become so worked up that they really behave
+like a crowd of monkeys gone stark, staring mad.
+
+Sir Everard F. im Thurn, K.C.M.G., at present Governor of Fiji, to whom
+I am indebted for the photographs of these Guiana games, relates a most
+trying experience he went through during one of these mad frolics. He
+says that the players suddenly burst in amongst the huts, swarmed up
+the roofs, tearing great mouthfuls of thatch away in their flight,
+and then dashed into the rooms, upsetting everything they came across
+and destroying food and furniture. “The old man of the settlement and
+his wife, in real anxiety for their goods, tried to protect what they
+could, tearing it even from out of the ’monkeys’’ hands or throwing
+food to them to distract their attention from more valuable property.
+At last, with the help of two bystanders, the old man secured the more
+violent of the players, and, despite some too genuine scratchings
+and bitings, managed to fasten them by ropes round their loins,
+monkey-wise, to the posts of houses. At last five had been so caught
+and tied in one house; and then, if there had been uproar before, there
+was pandemonium now. The captives screamed and shrieked and yelled;
+they rolled as far as their cords would allow, and tore with their
+teeth everything that came in their way: food, clothes, hammocks, pans,
+and calabashes.... The whole mighty uproar only ceased when all were
+literally too tired to do more.”
+
+This quaint instance of a game running away with its players seems
+strange to us, but probably if a savage saw some of our football
+matches he, too, might think the players had suddenly gone mad.
+
+[Illustration: THE “SHIELD GAME,” IN WHICH THE COMPETITORS ENDEAVOUR TO
+PUSH ONE ANOTHER OVER--TRIBAL DISPUTES ARE OCCASIONALLY SETTLED WITHOUT
+BLOODSHED BY CHOSEN TEAMS. [_From a Photograph._]]
+
+The “Shield Game” is another pastime of the grown-up natives. In this
+each man is provided with a strong shield made of palm-leaf stalks.
+Armed with this he faces his opponent. After much preliminary stamping
+and feigning they close and a mighty struggle commences, in which each
+man endeavours to push his adversary back. It is a kind of tug-of-war
+reversed. Besides being a game, it is often used as a means to settle
+disputes, in which, of course, the strongest man wins. The accompanying
+photograph gives an excellent idea of the pastime. Occasionally when
+tribes fall out a whole line of experts are chosen from each side, and
+the dispute is settled without bloodshed by the success of either side.
+It will be gleaned from this that the quality of “pushfulness” has an
+added value in British Guiana.
+
+To go back to the games of children and also to jump a few thousand
+miles to the west, we find some interesting and curious pastimes among
+the aboriginals of Australia, where the young idea copies the ways of
+its fathers and makes games of their serious ceremonies. Amongst other
+things they play at marriage, taking some of the romantic details prior
+to the ceremony to make their game. In some parts of Australia an
+aboriginal has first to catch his wife before he can marry her, and
+the youngsters have probably heard from their mothers that this was not
+always the easiest thing to do, for there may have been others anxious
+to wed her--provided always that she was a good worker, looks being
+of small account. So the children have taken all these things into
+consideration and made their game from them.
+
+As these aborigines have no proper villages, but live in shelters
+thrown together in the most primitive fashion, the children choose a
+spot in the bush where Nature has made a sort of covering; they then
+congregate and imitate grown-up people, chattering about nothing in
+particular, whilst the young man hovers round in the bush. Suddenly
+he bears down on the players and attempts to abduct one of the girls.
+This arouses the others, who all try to stop him, and one of the young
+gallants attacks the would-be abductor and a mock fight ensues, the
+winner bearing the maiden off in triumph to the bush.
+
+[Illustration: AN AUSTRALIAN ABORIGINAL CORROBOREE
+
+_From a Photo. by permission of the Queensland Government._]
+
+Amongst the men there are few real games; they all seem to take life
+rather seriously, and as soon as they are grown up they devote their
+whole time to obtaining food and taking part in the numerous religious
+ceremonies, some of which are most elaborate and trying functions. To
+us these may appear very like games, but to the aborigines they are
+particularly sacred. Of late years, however, they have turned one or
+two of these ceremonies into dances or corroborees, but probably this
+has been done to amuse the whites and extract money from them--like the
+Maoris, who now dance the “Haka” as if it were a spectacular dance for
+the benefit of the Pakeha. With the coming of civilization and peace
+some phases of its serious import have gone. The photograph given above
+shows Australian aborigines performing the kangaroo dance, which is
+a modified exhibition of one of their ancient ceremonies. It is not
+an exciting affair, nor beautiful, as these savages are not adepts at
+dancing. All they do is to crawl about, stamping and gesticulating,
+whilst the man dressed as a kangaroo goes backwards and forwards and up
+and down the line with a sort of high-stepping action. This kangaroo
+dance at one time had a significant meaning, and was probably danced in
+connection with an old-time legend, but, like many similar ceremonies,
+it is now carried on simply because the ancestors of the present
+generation taught it. This in itself would be quite sufficient to keep
+the most absurd custom alive, for ancestors are held in great reverence
+amongst savages.
+
+One of the most amusing games I have ever witnessed in savage lands was
+in New Zealand, where I saw a crowd of children dancing an imitation
+“Haka.” The “Haka,” when danced seriously by grown-ups, is a most
+awe-inspiring and thrilling exhibition which stirs every nerve in your
+body; but when children dance it, it becomes a grotesque and laughable
+affair. The Maoris, men, women, and children, have a well-developed
+sense of humour, which is more than most savages have, and the word
+“savage” hardly applies to them, for more civilized and Christian
+beings would be hard to find. When white men first came in contact with
+them they found them anything but civilized except in their ideas of
+justice, in which they were able to give us lessons; in hospitality
+even now they can put a white man to shame. However, for the purpose of
+this article I will call them savages.
+
+The children from their earliest days begin to laugh. I do not remember
+ever seeing one cry--and they seem to spend the rest of their days with
+a smile hovering somewhere near their faces, ready at the slightest
+provocation to come out. As the “Haka” is composed of a series of body
+movements, in which facial expression plays a prominent part, the
+children have plenty of scope to caricature the whole performance,
+which they turn into a merry pantomime, stamping and shouting, rolling
+their eyes, and hanging out their tongues in curious imitation of the
+real performers. The girls, too, have their dances, and these are
+really both pretty and interesting, for they are handsome creatures who
+know they are good looking, and enjoy showing themselves off to the
+best advantage, as one can see by the pretty and fascinating movements
+of the various dances they practise. The only thing that mars them is
+their anxiety to make grotesque faces every now and then, but perhaps
+this too is done by way of contrast. The men have the same failing, and
+though their expressions are more savage they do not add to the charm
+of the dances. To perform a dance of welcome in front of a visiting
+tribe, and pull horrible faces at them the while, is hardly likely to
+make the visitors feel at home, but the Maoris understand it, and so do
+not get cross, as you and I might.
+
+[Illustration: MAORI BOYS PERFORMING THE “HAKA.”
+
+_From a Photo. by permission of the New Zealand Government Tourist
+Department._]
+
+In the Solomon Islands, British New Guinea, and the New Hebrides the
+children are also of a playful disposition and have many games which
+resemble ours, such as leap-frog and pick-a-back, whilst the elder
+generation have musical instruments resembling the jews’ harp, the
+fiddle, and the Pandean pipes.
+
+[Illustration: A YOUNG NICOBARESE ISLANDER PLAYING A FLAGEOLET WITH HIS
+NOSE.
+
+_From a Photo. by E. H. Man._]
+
+Certain musical instruments are more or less common all over the world,
+but often the method of playing them differs, as the accompanying
+photograph will show. It represents a young Nicobarese playing a reed
+flageolet with his nose! Lots of people in the most civilized lands
+sing through their noses, but playing through them is, I believe,
+only practised in savage lands. In these same islands the natives
+have a sounding-board which I suppose they would call a musical
+instrument, for it takes the place of the well-known tom-tom used in
+other countries. Here it is beaten to keep time for dancers. It is a
+curiously constructed instrument, resembling a native shield; in fact,
+some travellers have mistaken it for one. Scooped out of the trunk of
+a tree in the same way that ordinary dug-out canoes are made, it is
+about five feet long and two or three feet broad; like a shield, it is
+concave in shape. One of the ends is pointed, and when in use this is
+stuck in the ground diagonally; a stone is placed under the other end
+to raise it. To play it the native plants one foot firmly on the buried
+end whilst he strikes the board with his disengaged foot.
+
+“Musical” entertainments are popular in the Nicobar Islands, and the
+young men vie with each other in composing ditties which they hope will
+become popular and thus make them famous. So far none of these songs
+have been pirated in England, but this does not say that in the islands
+they are not “all the go.” Such tunes are composed to be sung to the
+accompaniment of the sounding-board and dances. These, among the women,
+resemble more than anything else the antics of timid ladies bathing at
+the seaside. The dancing of the men is not much help to the musician
+either, as it consists of a few movements rather like dumb-bell
+exercises for chest development, so that it can be understood that the
+young Nicobarese has no light task before him when he seeks fame in
+composition.
+
+[Illustration: A CURIOUS DANCE POPULAR IN THE NICOBAR ISLANDS.
+
+_From a Photo. by E. H. Man._]
+
+On the West Coast of Africa there is a remarkably interesting dance
+in which the movements of the dancer supply the “music.” For the
+particulars of this dance and for the photograph of the performers I
+have to thank Mr. T. J. Alldridge, some time District Commissioner.
+The native dancing girls wear most fantastic garments. Their bodies
+are covered with a net made of native cotton, from which hang great
+bunches of palm-leaf fibre. Tufts of the same material decorate their
+wrists and waists, and some wear curious knicker-bockers. To these
+latter garments are attached small pieces of hollow iron, from which
+rings are hung, and when the dancer gets in full swing these make a
+curious jingling noise. An accompaniment is also played by other women
+on another quaint instrument called a _sehgura_, which is made out of a
+hollow gourd covered with a net, on which are fixed a number of seeds.
+To produce the sound the ends of the net are held in the two hands and
+tightened and slackened alternately, while rhythmic shaking is now and
+then indulged in to vary the accompaniment.
+
+In this part of the world there are several interesting games of
+chance, for natives are inveterate gamblers and will stake all they
+possess--huts, wearing apparel, and even their wives. One of their
+favourite pastimes is played with a concave board, which is put on the
+ground facing the players, who stand or squat a little way off. They
+then spin a sort of top into and across it until one of them fails to
+send it with sufficient force to carry it to the far end; it is then
+the business of the next man to spin his top with sufficient force to
+drive his opponent’s out, and so beat him.
+
+Gambling seems to be common in all parts of the world; the Eskimo have
+many interesting games where chance and skill are combined. One called
+“nuglutang” is very popular and is played by several men at a time.
+From the centre of the room (generally from the roof) is slung a plate
+of ivory having a hole in its centre. The Eskimos stand away from it,
+and each in turn endeavours to throw a stick through the orifice.
+In one of their games, called “saketan,” they have a curious way of
+“staking.” The game is a sort of roulette; a board is placed on the
+ground, and a small cup with rounded bottom and a lip is spun on to it.
+The man in front of whom the lip stops is the winner, but, unlike most
+winners, he is actually a loser, for he has to go and fetch something
+to pay in as a stake, which the next “winner” takes, but he in turn
+pays in another forfeit in its place for the man who follows. So the
+game goes on until the last man wins, and he appropriates the stakes
+out and out, making himself the only real winner, whereas the first
+player to whom the cup pointed is the only loser in a game which causes
+the wildest excitement whilst the issue is in doubt.
+
+[Illustration: WEST AFRICAN DANCING GIRLS.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+It is a peculiar thing that string games, like some others already
+mentioned, are popular all over the world amongst the coloured races,
+and what is perhaps far more extraordinary is the fact, recently
+discovered, that some of these string figures are made in exactly the
+same way, and are of the same design in places as widely apart as
+America, the South Sea Islands, and Japan. The last photograph, taken
+by Mr. William A. Cunnington, shows a very interesting string figure
+from Central Africa called “Sumbo” (a fishing net), which is by no
+means a simple one.
+
+For the description of this figure and permission to reproduce the
+photograph I have to thank the Secretary of the Anthropological
+Institute.
+
+Besides having tricks of this sort in which the hands only are
+employed, there are many now known which are made with hands and feet,
+and others again are worked round the neck and the hands.
+
+Dr. Haddon has made a particular study of the subject, and has, in
+collaboration with Dr. Rivers, published particulars of many of the
+string tricks performed in various parts of the world.
+
+[Illustration: STRING GAMES ARE POPULAR ALL OVER THE WORLD--HERE IS AN
+INTERESTING FIGURE FROM CENTRAL AFRICA.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+
+
+
+_The Marriage of Lulu._
+
+BY THE REV. A. FORDER, OF JERUSALEM.
+
+    The author is a missionary who has travelled extensively in the
+    East, and is thoroughly familiar with the wild tribes of the
+    desert. In the subjoined narrative he relates the love-story of
+    a young Arab girl--a real life romance with the conventional
+    happy ending of fiction.
+
+
+It was that time of the day which Orientals call _asr_, between
+four o’clock and sunset--just the time when the Arab chief likes to
+be on hand so that he may receive and welcome any who may seek the
+hospitality and shelter afforded by his simple home, and see for
+himself that sufficient food for man and beast is provided, so that
+both may sup and be satisfied.
+
+On a certain afternoon Sheikh Khaleel sat at his tent door watching the
+sun slowly sink toward the west, wondering, as he pulled at the dying
+embers in his pipe, if it would be his lot to entertain any guest that
+night.
+
+As his sharp eyes looked out from under his shaggy eyebrows he saw
+in the distance a rider mounted on a camel, whose head was directed
+straight for the camp under the chief’s control.
+
+It was not long before both camel and rider stood at the door of the
+guest-tent, and the chief, having tethered the ship of the desert to
+one of the tent-pegs, invited his guest to enter, and at once set about
+preparing the coffee according to Arab custom.
+
+The new arrival, whose name was Abd-el-Thullam (the servant of cruelty)
+was well known to the Arabs for scores of miles round, and a visit from
+him always meant something unusual and of importance, hence the wonder
+of the host and his neighbours at the coming of one with so uninviting
+a name, which was obtained by deeds that gave subject for conversation
+around many a camp-fire after supper. Speculations as to the coming of
+this well-known chief were many, and although not audibly expressed
+filled the minds of all present, and of none more so than the women,
+who were separated from the menfolk only by the coarse goats’-hair
+curtain that divided the tent. Little did the host’s only daughter
+think that she was the cause of this unexpected visitor coming among
+them, or how much his presence meant to her and others.
+
+Arab etiquette forbids any direct asking of questions or quizzing
+into the affairs of a guest, so both before and after supper the
+conversation was upon subjects far away from the one that had brought
+Abd-el-Thullam into the camp of Sheikh Khaleel, and the simple folk of
+the wilderness closed their eyes in sleep without having the faintest
+idea of the object of Abd-el-Thullam’s visit.
+
+With the morning light the camp was astir, both men and women going
+about their daily callings, each one wondering what the day would
+reveal. After the matutinal cup of coffee the guest made known the
+object of his coming, doing so in such forceful and measured language
+as to impress upon the little company of listeners the fact that his
+wishes must be complied with.
+
+Condensed into a few words, the rather lengthy speech of the “servant
+of cruelty” was somewhat as follows: “Sheikh Khaleel, may Allah grant
+you a long life and build your house (grant you sons to perpetuate your
+name and family). To the women of my household I desire to add another,
+for has not our Prophet given us permission to have four wives? Already
+I have three. Now I have come to ask for your daughter, and am ready
+to give the price that you may ask for her. As I am to join a raiding
+party in a few days the matter must be settled at once. May Allah give
+you patience and wisdom.”
+
+The statement was so unexpected that no one could make reply for a
+minute or so. At last the silence was broken by Khaleel saying, “The
+will of Allah be done! What is decreed must come to pass.”
+
+Now, the business of a betrothal and marriage is not usually hurried
+among Arabs, for much talking is necessary to settle the price of the
+bride, and time is needed in which to pay the amount agreed upon, and
+to arrange and comply with the wedding festivities and customs. Hence
+Sheikh Khaleel and his neighbours were surprised in a two-fold way,
+first by the boldness of the request, and secondly by the desire to
+hasten the matter. So, reminding the impatient suitor that “God was
+with the patient ones,” Khaleel bade him wait a while.
+
+But the man desirous of many wives pressed his claim and asked the
+price of the girl, again saying that he was ready to give whatever was
+asked.
+
+All the while Khaleel had been wondering if this was not his chance to
+make a good bargain, although for two reasons he was loath to part with
+his daughter, whose name was Lulu (the pearl). Was she not his only
+daughter--in fact, the only child Allah had spared to him? Moreover,
+although there had been no formal or public betrothal, he knew well
+enough that Lulu’s heart and affections had already been won by a young
+man of his own camp and community. But here was the opportunity to
+drive a good and hard bargain. And what did it matter, after all? It
+was only about a girl, who might any day be taken ill and die; also, he
+might have to get her off at a small return later on if he allowed this
+chance to slip by.
+
+At last Khaleel spoke, making known the terms on which his daughter
+could become the fourth wife of the unwelcome guest. They were as
+follows: a mare, one hundred goats, fifty sheep, and two hundred silver
+medjidiehs (each worth three and fourpence), all to be paid within
+three days, with the stipulation that, should Lulu die before the time
+for taking her to her new home, viz., seven days of feasting, the above
+payment should become the sole property of Chief Khaleel, her father.
+In addition to the above the new son-in-law was to give for five
+successive years one hundred measures of new wheat and fifty of barley.
+
+The terms were received in silence, and anyone glancing at the faces
+of those assembled could gather that each thought the price high, but
+all knew that the visiting chief was rich and well able to pay the fee
+demanded, if he chose to do so.
+
+Nearly the whole day was spent in arguing, persuasion, and calculation,
+but Sheikh Khaleel was immovable, the more so as he saw a chance of
+getting his terms.
+
+Finding that talking was of no avail, Abd-el-Thullam finally consented
+to the terms on condition that, as soon as the purchase price was paid,
+the seven days of wedding festivities should commence. To this Khaleel
+gave his consent, and, although the day was far spent, the prospective
+bridegroom mounted a horse which had been brought for him and rode
+away, leaving the camel on which he had arrived as an earnest of his
+return. For three days the camel was tied before the guest-tent, and
+was only redeemed just in time to save it from being forfeited.
+
+We must now leave the guest-tent and for a time consider some other
+people who were keenly interested in the happenings just related.
+
+First, a word about Lulu. As already stated, she was the only child of
+her father, and, such being the case, she was naturally better cared
+for and more thought of than if there had been rivals in the shape
+of brothers. Her father spared her in many ways the indignities so
+commonly imposed upon females in the East, one distinction between her
+and other girls of the tribe being that her face had not been tattooed.
+
+At the time of our story her age was about fourteen. The bloom of
+youth on her cheek, with the uprightness of figure so common among
+Arab girls, made her queenly in appearance in spite of her oft-patched
+flowing robes.
+
+Among her own kith and kin she reigned supreme, for, having lost her
+mother soon after her birth, she had claimed the nursing and attention
+of most of the women in the camp; hence she was ruled by none and
+spoiled by all.
+
+[Illustration: “FOR THREE DAYS THE CAMEL WAS TIED BEFORE THE
+GUEST-TENT.”
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+Some of the youths, too, had paid her attention, and, having grown up
+side by side with her, were more than mere friends. One, whose name was
+Abd-Salaam (the servant of peace), had even found it in his heart to
+love her, which aspiration he knew was not in vain, for on more than
+one occasion Lulu had assured him that when the time came for her to
+become a wife none but the “servant of peace” would suffice.
+
+Now it so happened that all that had passed and been settled in the
+guest-tent between father and visitor was unknown to either Lulu or
+her lover, for the former had been away all day gathering fuel on the
+hill-sides in company with another girl, while Abd-Salaam had gone with
+others to a distant town in charge of some sheep, the day he left the
+camp being the one on which the wife-seeker arrived.
+
+It is customary among the Arabs for the girl who is to be betrothed not
+to be consulted as to any likes or dislikes on her part, and she knows
+nothing about her being traded off to some stranger until informed by
+having the large outer garment of the suitor thrown around her, and
+hearing the announcement that she belongs to him.
+
+The surprise of Lulu, therefore, on her return to the camp may be
+imagined when the scribe of the community approached her and, all
+unawares, covered her with a large camel-hair _abba_, saying, “The name
+of God be with thee, O Lulu. None shall have thee but Abd-el-Thullam.”
+
+Surprised as she was, she threw off the cloak and entered the tent,
+inwardly vowing that none should have her but the constant companion of
+her girlhood. With the liberty allowed her as the chief’s daughter she
+went into the guest-tent, and, with hands clenched and determination
+written on her face, informed her father that her home and lot should
+not be among strangers, and that the hated “servant of cruelty” should
+be no husband of hers. In this way warfare was declared, and the
+probability of trouble in the near future announced.
+
+That night she was sprinkled with sheep’s blood, as a sign that her
+life belonged to another. Next day she was accompanied by the women to
+a spring, and, according to custom, thoroughly washed and purified,
+while on the day following busy fingers worked incessantly making
+a wedding-robe for the supposed bride. Lulu tolerated all these
+formalities in silence, but inwardly decided that, do what they would
+and act as they might, she would never be the bride of the one who was
+to supplant the choice of long ago.
+
+The afternoon of the third day came round, but no suitor with the
+price of the bride had appeared, and it looked as though Lulu would
+be released from her probable marriage, and her father become the
+possessor of a camel for little trouble. Just an hour before sunset,
+however, a cloud of dust in the distance told of the coming of flocks,
+and ere the golden orb disappeared altogether Abd-el-Thullam had
+handed over what was demanded in return for his prospective bride. The
+bleating of the sheep and the clinking of the silver pieces only made
+Lulu vow afresh that no tent of a stranger should shelter her.
+
+The price having been paid in the presence of witnesses, the wedding
+festivities commenced. The firing of old flint-lock guns was the signal
+that announced holiday-keeping for a week. Sheep were killed, bread
+baked in abundance, and coffee-drinking went on continuously. This is a
+time much appreciated by the dwellers of the wilderness, for then they
+are able to satisfy the cravings of hunger and for once in a season eat
+until satisfied.
+
+Whilst the men raced on their horses or fought imaginary battles, the
+women whiled away the hours in dancing, singing, or sipping coffee
+between puffs at their long pipes. So the days passed, and the end of
+the marriage feast approached.
+
+Only Lulu took no part or interest in all that was going on, and as the
+men or women chanted in turn the virtues, praises, and good fortune
+of both bride and bridegroom, it all fell like water on a duck’s back
+so far as the girl-bride was concerned. Inwardly she longed for the
+return of her boy lover, so that he might in some way intervene to stop
+the proceedings, and so win her for himself according to their mutual
+pledge.
+
+But the “servant of peace” did not come, for the demand in the town for
+sheep was poor, and he had to wait many days ere the flock was disposed
+of and he free to return to his goats’-hair home. As time and tide
+wait for no man, neither did the last day of the wedding festivities
+tarry, and all too soon for the greatly-distressed Lulu the seventh day
+dawned, and with it no visible escape from what seemed her inevitable
+fate.
+
+With the constant attention of the women, escape by flight was
+well-nigh impossible, but before noon a probable way of deliverance
+presented itself which Lulu was not slow to grasp. A small company of
+gipsies arrived at the camp, one of whom--an old woman--professed a
+knowledge of drugs, and verified her statements by producing a small
+box of mysterious-looking compounds in powder.
+
+The arrival of the party drew away attention from Lulu, but she engaged
+the attention of the vender of drugs, and elicited from her the fact
+that among her wares was poison. It was only the work of a few minutes
+to exchange cash for a mysterious powder, directions for the use of
+which were imparted to Lulu in an undertone.
+
+As evening drew on preparations were made for the sending away after
+supper of bride and bridegroom. The camel that was to carry Lulu to her
+new home was decorated and made ready, and the torches and tom-toms
+seen to and handed out to those who were to accompany the procession on
+its way to the camp of Abd-el-Thullam. It seemed that nothing remained
+to be done save to partake of supper and start.
+
+[Illustration: “IT WAS ONLY THE WORK OF A FEW MINUTES TO EXCHANGE CASH
+FOR A MYSTERIOUS POWDER.”]
+
+During the serving of the unusually large meal, which occupied the
+attention of the women for a time, Lulu slipped out backwards under
+the rear curtain of the tent and disappeared. Few missed her for a
+time, for all were busy, but when the call was given, “Bring out the
+bride and let her husband claim her,” great was the astonishment, for
+no bride was on hand. One abused the other, and the angry bridegroom
+accused his host of treachery and would have shot him but for the
+interference of others, who reminded him again that Allah was with the
+patient ones.
+
+All denied that the girl was dead, for had they not seen her alive only
+a short time before? She would return soon, they said, and put an end
+to the confusion and mystery.
+
+Meanwhile scouts were sent out around the camp, only to return later
+without tidings of the fugitive. All that night watch was kept, but
+morning dawned without the mystery being solved, and as the day wore
+on speculations were indulged in as to whom the purchase price of
+Lulu belonged, for, although she had now disappeared, she on her part
+had not done anything within the seven days of the feast to cause her
+intended master to claim the price paid for her. The sun set again
+without any light being shed on the disappearance or whereabouts of the
+girl-bride, and Abd-el-Thullam was furious at being balked of his prey,
+swearing by every oath available that he would lose neither wife nor
+purchase price, even if the regaining of one or the other made lifelong
+enmity between the two tribes.
+
+[Illustration: “AN OLD TOMB HEWN IN THE SIDE OF THE CISTERN.”
+
+[_From a Photograph._]]
+
+We must now leave the puzzled company in the guest-tent and see what
+had become of Lulu. After slipping under the tent-cloth, she commenced
+to run as fast as her bare feet would permit her. In her excitement and
+joy at being free she cared little in which direction she fled, and
+although the night was unusually dark, by reason of heavy storm-clouds,
+she sped on over hill and valley until thoroughly tired and exhausted.
+As she rested her weary little frame on the soft herbage of the
+wilderness the solitude and stillness made her nervous and afraid.
+Her trepidation was not lessened by a sudden movement near her--made,
+probably, by a jackal more alarmed than herself.
+
+The fright made her rise quickly and again take to flight, but after
+running a few hundred yards misfortune overtook her, for, without
+warning, she tripped and fell headlong into an old unused cistern quite
+twenty-five feet deep. The fall made her unconscious, and as the pit
+was far from the camp she was safe for that night, while a tangle of
+creepers and thorns over the mouth of the cavity made her fairly secure
+by day.
+
+Here, bruised and unconscious, the poor little bride-to-be lay until
+daybreak, when, with the rising sun, her senses returned to her. Having
+considered her surroundings, she decided to secure herself further by
+creeping into an old tomb hewn in the side of the cistern, where at
+least she could die in peace rather than be the slave of one utterly
+distasteful to her. So, with one last fond thought for her absent
+lover, she swallowed the gipsy’s potion and crawled into the small
+aperture. Here she soon fell into a stupor, caused partly by weariness,
+but mainly by the powder bought from the old drug-vender.
+
+But what had become of the boy-lover all these days that he had not
+returned to the camp and become conversant with all that had happened
+to his little companion?
+
+As already stated, he was delayed by a slack market; but after some
+days he was free to return, and, in charge of two camels, he set out
+for his wilderness home. On the day after Lulu’s escape he was crossing
+the great plain, happy at the prospect of reaching camp before evening.
+Being somewhat religiously inclined, he halted at noonday to pray, and
+soon after remounting was warned to seek shelter from a storm that
+was announced by a sharp crack of thunder. Looking about him he saw a
+cavity in the ground wide and high enough to allow his camels to enter.
+By dint of pulling, coaxing, and beating he forced the beasts in, and
+at last all three found themselves in the same pit into which Lulu had
+fallen the night before.
+
+[Illustration: “HE HALTED AT NOONDAY TO PRAY.”
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+[Illustration: “SUDDENLY HE WAS SEEN TO FALL HEAVILY.”]
+
+The heavy rain dripping through the opening above made the youth seek
+better shelter, so he presently crept into the old tomb, and, to his
+amazement, found that it was already occupied by someone apparently
+deep in slumber.
+
+Curiosity made him try to rouse the sleeper, but it was of no use.
+Crawling farther in, it was not long before the amazed camel-boy
+discovered that the insensible girl was his dearly-loved Lulu. Assuring
+himself that she was not dead, and, of course, ignorant of the
+circumstances that had brought her to the cavern, he left her, and,
+taking the best of the two camels, rode off post-haste to carry the
+news of Lulu’s condition to the camp and get help.
+
+The announcement caused a good deal of talk, stir, and excitement,
+which was suddenly put a stop to by Abd-el-Thullam jumping on his mare
+and making off at full speed toward the cavern, hoping to be the first
+to secure his dearly-bought bride.
+
+Others joined in the race, but it seemed as if no one would overtake
+the eager chief, when suddenly he was seen to fall heavily, having been
+thrown to the ground by his mare putting her foot into a hole.
+
+He did not move, and when the others reached him they discovered to
+their consternation that he had broken his neck and was quite dead.
+Instead of a reluctant bride being escorted to the distant camp,
+therefore, the corpse of the unfortunate chief was carried thither.
+
+On reaching the cavern the men found Lulu still deep in the
+drug-induced slumber, and, making a rough litter out of their roomy
+outer garments, they carried her to their camp and laid her on her rude
+bed of heather and dry grass.
+
+Fortunately, the old gipsy-woman had not left the camp, and now, taking
+in the situation, she administered a dose of some concoction that soon
+had the effect of rousing the sleeper and making her able to explain
+her presence in the rock-hewn tomb.
+
+Slowly but surely Lulu regained vigour, and the old youthful spirit
+came again, much to the joy of Abd-Salaam and her father. After a few
+weeks another marriage feast was kept, for there was now no obstacle to
+the wedding of the lovers, the price of the bride having been paid by
+the ill-fated “servant of cruelty.” The affair was hurried this time,
+for the feast was to have a happy ending; love, instead of custom, had
+won the day.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: THE BREAKER OF RECORDS.]
+
+BY HERBERT G. PONTING, F.R.G.S
+
+    The amusing story of an American who set out to eclipse the
+    round-the-world record. The author, himself a globe-trotter of
+    many years’ standing, describes him as “the most extraordinary
+    man I ever met,” and after reading the narrative we fancy the
+    reader will be inclined to agree with him.
+
+
+I met him at Dalny, in August, 1903--the year before war broke out
+between Japan and Russia.
+
+I had been travelling in Manchuria, and had come down from Mukden only
+just in time to catch, by the skin of my teeth, the weekly steamer to
+Japan. The train was more than an hour late, and the drosky that I
+hired at the station--with my luggage piled in anyhow by the Chinese
+porters--had been driven by the dishevelled moujik in charge at a pace
+that laughed at speed limits and scorned such trifling obstacles as
+ruts and holes nearly a foot in depth.
+
+As we tore up to the steamer’s berth at the great wharf, that was later
+to prove of such inestimable value to the Japanese, the driver shouting
+and lashing his three horses into foam, the gangway was on the point of
+being lowered, and I had horrible visions of having to spend a week in
+that most dead of dead-alive towns, in which I already seemed to know
+every house.
+
+With commendable courtesy, however, the officials permitted me to get
+myself and effects on board, and a moment later we were steaming out
+into the fine harbour.
+
+The steamer was the _Mongolia_, which had the misfortune six months
+later to be the first Russian vessel captured by the Japanese.
+
+I was leaning over the rail, watching the hills receding from view,
+when I suddenly felt a tap on my shoulder, and on looking round was
+confronted by a rather sallow-faced, wiry-looking individual of medium
+height, with steel-grey eyes that seemed to pierce through mine clean
+into my brain.
+
+[Illustration: “THE DRIVER SHOUTING AND LASHING HIS THREE HORSES INTO
+FOAM.”]
+
+“Say, d’you speak English?” he asked me.
+
+I admitted that, being an Englishman, I had a moderate command of the
+language.
+
+“Well, I ain’t English, I’m Amur’can,” he replied.
+
+“So I see.”
+
+“Well, say now, how’d you know I was Amur’can?”
+
+“By your accent; one would scarcely make the mistake of taking you for
+anything else.”
+
+“Well, say, you’re smart enough to be an Amur’can, too, at that rate.
+Anyhow, I’m mighty glad to see you, for since I parted with my friend,
+who went to Port Arthur, I ain’t had a chance of hearin’ a language
+that anyone could understand. I’m out to beat the record round the
+world for the _New York_ ----, and if I only make it in Japan I’ll beat
+the previous best by exactly twelve days.”
+
+He then related to me how he had left New York and travelled
+_viâ_ Liverpool, London, Dover, Ostend, Berlin, Moscow, and the
+Trans-Siberian Railway to Dalny; and here he was, bound for Nagasaki,
+Japan, where he would take the train for Yokohama, and thence travel by
+the _Empress of India_ to Vancouver, by the Canadian Pacific Railway to
+Quebec, and from there back to New York.
+
+“I’m going to publish a book on the trip, and I’ve got about enough
+information to fill it already. Say, though, my wife’ll be glad to see
+me back again in New York. She’s a beautiful woman, my wife. She’s
+tall and dark, and has a straight-front figure--a woman can’t be
+fashionable without a straight-front figure--and when she walks she
+leans forward like a kangaroo and does the glide. Ever seen it? I tell
+you, sir, there’s nuthin’ like it; and it takes a New York girl to do
+it properly, and there ain’t many girls in New York as can lick my wife
+at walkin’. I’ll introduce you to her sometime if I ever see you in New
+York, an’ if you don’t say she’s about the slickest thing you ever saw
+in skirts, well, you ain’t much of a judge o’ weather.
+
+“Say, now that I come to look at you, I’ve seen you before, I guess,”
+he rattled on. “Wasn’t you the chap that come rushin’ on to the
+platform at Mukden just as our train was movin’ out of the station?”
+
+I acknowledged that I was. Owing to the impossibility of obtaining any
+reliable information in the town, several miles away, as to the time
+of departure of the trains, I had reached the station, to my great
+chagrin, just in time to see the _train de luxe_ move away from the
+platform. I had thus been compelled to take a slow and very dirty train
+three hours later, and hence the reason of my nearly missing the boat
+at Dalny.
+
+“Looks as if cuttin’ things fine was rather in your line, eh? Say,
+though, you couldn’t take risks like that if you was doin’ a record
+round the world. You nearly missed this boat. I was watchin’ you, and
+if you’d been on my job you’d have perspired like a pig as you was
+drivin’ up to the wharf, with that woolly-faced pirate yellin’ and
+thrashin’ them horses to soapsuds, and the steamer whistle blowin’ and
+the whole durned push hollerin’ and monkeyin’ with the ropes of the
+gangway. You’d have had your heart in your boots, young feller, if
+you’d been on my lay-out and seen how near you came to botchin’ up the
+whole job.
+
+“And talkin’ of botchin’ jobs, if this steamer doesn’t arrive in
+Nagasaki in time to catch the eight o’clock train on Thursday, I’m
+done. That train’ll just give me time to catch the _Empress_ at
+Yokohama. If I miss it there ain’t another boat until the _Gaelic_ for
+San Francisco, nine days later, and as that’s a slower route I’ll be
+fourteen days longer than if I catch the _Empress_. Gee whiz, though,
+it’ll break my wife’s heart if I don’t clip that twelve days off the
+record. She and I figured this whole thing out together months before I
+started.
+
+“Now, this boat’s due to arrive at Nagasaki at eleven o’clock, and
+if she does no better’n that there’s no power on earth can help me;
+the game’s lost. Guess I’ll have to try and square the captain to get
+her into harbour by seven o’clock. If I can’t do that my wife’ll be
+heartbroken; she’s set her heart on this. You ought to see her; she’s
+the finest girl in New York--tall and slender, with dark eyes and hair,
+and she’s got a straight-front figure. But, say, I guess I’ll have to
+try and square the captain; I ain’t a nervous man, but I’m gettin’
+nervous about this.”
+
+With that he took me on one side, where there was no possibility of any
+eavesdropping, and, drawing his watch from his pocket, said, “You see
+that watch? How much do you suppose it’s worth?”
+
+I looked at it closely. It appeared to be a handsome gold-cased,
+centre-seconds hunter, but, after the American fashion, the gold was
+not hallmarked. I confessed that I could form no idea of its value, but
+it appeared to me to be an expensive one.
+
+“It’s a most difficult thing for anyone but an expert to tell the value
+of a watch, and you aren’t the only one to think this is somethin’
+choice,” said my new acquaintance. “Now you’ve got a whole lot to
+learn, and I’m goin’ to put you up to a tip that’ll save you a pile of
+money. There’s not many experts on watches to be met with travellin’,
+and most people would think this worth fifty dollars at least. That’s
+where they’re wrong. I buy these watches by the dozen, and they only
+cost me one dollar and twenty cents each that way. They’re gold-washed,
+but they look like solid gold. I always have one on my chain; it’s no
+good havin’ it anywhere else. It must be on the chain you’re wearin’,
+and when the time comes for business you’ve got to tenderly draw it out
+of your pocket as if it was somethin’ you valued more than your life.
+
+“Now, when I started out from Moscow I bought a second-class ticket,
+and I got into the best unoccupied first-class compartment I saw on the
+train. After a while the conductor comes along to examine the tickets.
+I handed him mine. He couldn’t speak a word of English, but he gave me
+to understand by pretty good actin’ that I’d have to clear out into the
+other end of the train.
+
+“Not bein’ a bad hand at actin’ myself, I was right _in_ it. I gently
+pulled my watch from my pocket--it was one like this I now have on
+me--and showed him clearly that I intended to give it to him when we
+reached Irkutsk if he let me stay where I was. I repeated the word
+Irkutsk several times, each time touchin’ his pocket.
+
+“Well, sirree, you ought to have been there to see his face when he
+caught sight of that watch! His eyes bulged out of his head so you
+could hang your hat on ’em, and to show what he felt like in his heart
+he took hold of my hand and shook it.
+
+“After that he was like a mother to me all the way. Other compartments
+were filled up, but I had mine to myself always. Every time I passed
+him I gave him a wink and tapped my watch-pocket, and he switched on
+the nicest smile he kept in stock.
+
+“Gee whiz, though, comin’ across Siberia the inside of that train was
+hotter’n the gates of Hades, and every day that feller would come to my
+room two or three times to see if he couldn’t do something to make me
+more comfortable.
+
+“At Irkutsk I handed over the watch, and either his joy at receivin’ it
+or his sorrow at partin’ with me was so great that he tried to kiss me.
+
+“Irkutsk is where they change trains, and I met an Englishman on the
+platform who lived in Port Arthur; he was goin’ back there by way of
+Dalny. He had been on a holiday to England, and was comin’ back on
+third-class trains, as he had spent about all his money, and had only
+just enough to skin through third-class. When I found he knew the
+country and could talk Russian, I invited him to come along with me; I
+told him I’d fix things up all right.
+
+“Well, by and by the conductor comes along, same as the other had done.
+There we were, both in a first-class compartment, one with a second
+and the other with a third-class ticket. I didn’t have need to do any
+dumb show this time, for my friend, who spoke the lingo, did all the
+gassin’, and told him there was a nice present waitin’ for him when
+Dalny was reached if we could stay where we were, and when I tenderly
+took another watch out of my pocket and looked at it as though it was
+the only thing I’d ever loved on earth, he was as much overcome with
+joy as number one had been.
+
+“Well, that watch fixed it just as I knew it would. We both stayed
+where we were, and when, at Dalny, I handed it over to the conductor,
+I calculated those two watches, worth two dollars and forty cents, had
+saved me about one hundred and twenty-five dollars.
+
+“That Englishman was as chock-full of knowledge about Manchuria as an
+egg is full of meat, and I got enough information out of him to write
+up the whole trip across Russia and Siberia.
+
+“Now you see the point I’m gettin’ at. There’s more of them watches in
+my bag, besides this one on my chain, and I’d like to see the captain
+of this ship richer by one of ’em, provided he does somethin’ to earn
+such a valuable present as he’ll consider it, until he gets to pryin’
+into the works and askin’ experts’ opinions about it; but by that time
+I’ll be a long way off and it ’ain’t likely as I’ll ever see him again.
+There’s one disadvantage about this game that’s worth remarkin’--you
+can’t play it on the same man twice.
+
+“As soon as I came aboard this ship and found out from the steward
+the time she gets to Nagasaki, I saw another watch would have to go,
+and that the captain o’ the ship would be the fortunate possessor.
+There’s a difficulty in the way, as he can’t speak English; and I can’t
+approach him through the steward, as that would give the captain away,
+but I’ve discovered there’s a Russian lady in the saloon, whom the
+captain’s already gettin’ on with like a house on fire.
+
+“She speaks English with the prettiest accent you ever heard, and I was
+talkin’ to her for half an hour in the harbour before you showed up.
+I’ve already told her what I’m doin’, and got her quite worked up about
+it, an’ I’ve decided she’s the one to work the captain for me. There
+she is now, comin’ out on deck. Excuse me; there’s no time to be lost;
+I’ll get hold of her before the captain sees her.”
+
+As they walked up and down the deck talking animatedly together, I
+could see my new acquaintance was making a deeper impression every
+minute. Once a few sentences reached me, and I chuckled inwardly.
+
+“She’ll be broken-hearted if I fail to make it.... I’ll introduce
+you to her if you come to New York. She’ll like you and you’ll like
+her. She’s tall and dark, with big black eyes, and she’s got a
+straight-front figure and a----” I had to make a guess at the rest, for
+they had turned the corner by the wheel-house before the sentence was
+finished.
+
+I never doubted what the result of his interview would be. Already I
+felt that the arrival of the _Mongolia_ at Nagasaki by seven o’clock
+on Thursday morning was the only thing at present to live for. I was
+completely dominated with enthusiasm for the success of this man’s
+undertaking, and felt certain he would as surely win the Russian lady’s
+sympathy and co-operation in his project as he had already secured mine.
+
+After half an hour he came back to me.
+
+“That little woman’s all right. She’s made o’ good enough clay to be
+Amur’can, an’ says she’ll do everythin’ she can to help me. She’s gone
+to call the captain now.”
+
+Soon she appeared with the captain, talking in the most animated manner
+to him and punctuating every sentence with most expressive gestures.
+
+Then they came together towards us and she said, “I haf ze captain told
+what you say off your great journey, and he tell me it iss impossible
+we come to Nagasaki so early unless he burn extra fifty tons of coal.
+Ze captain say if you pay ze coal he can do it, but if you not pay ze
+coal it iss impossible, but ze captain he like verry much to help you.”
+
+To this my travelling companion made reply, “Madam, will you please
+tell the captain that the cost of the extra fifty tons of coal is but a
+trifle, and I’ll do a good deal more than pay for that. I am so anxious
+to catch that train that if the captain will bring the ship into the
+harbour by seven o’clock I’ll make him a present of my watch.”
+
+The lady interpreted this. The captain shrugged his shoulders, then
+he looked up at the funnel, from which great rolling convolutions of
+thick black smoke were belching, and he let his eye run along the line
+of reek floating lazily in the cobalt astern for many miles--almost,
+it seemed, to where the yellow, sun-baked Manchurian hills were
+disappearing below the horizon--his brows knitted in thought.
+
+Before he had finished his cogitations the would-be breaker of records
+put his hand into the left pocket of his waistcoat and drew out his
+watch. He carefully removed the chamois skin bag, soiled sufficiently
+to show it had long protected the treasure it covered, and holding the
+watch, which looked a perfect beauty as it caught the sun, in the palm
+of his hand, he addressed himself straight to the captain.
+
+“Captain, I _must_ catch that train, and if you’ll help me to do it,
+sir, my watch shall be yours before I leave the ship. Ain’t it a
+beauty?” and he held it out for admiration.
+
+All this he said in a manner that carried conviction with it. The lady
+interpreted again, but even that seemed unnecessary. The captain had
+capitulated, and from that moment the result lay in little doubt. The
+success or failure of this man’s trip had hung in the balance, and the
+issue was decided by a five-shilling watch glittering in the sun on the
+deck of a Russian steamer in the Yellow Sea.
+
+Being in the secret, I could feel only admiration at the
+record-breaker’s sang-froid and the clever and dramatic manner in which
+he played his part.
+
+The captain smiled and made a gesture of deprecation, but his eyes told
+us that he meant that watch should be his, and presently he went below
+to give directions to the chief engineer. From that moment the black
+smoke rolled out of the funnel thicker than before, hanging over the
+steamer’s wake clear to the horizon.
+
+The record-breaker contemplated it and the unrippled seas with joy.
+
+We went up into the fo’c’s’le, and as we leaned over the bow and saw
+the speed at which the sharp prow was cleaving the glassy water,
+sending thin feathers of spray high up along the steamer’s trim and
+tapering sides, his enthusiasm knew no bounds, and his praises of
+“God’s country” and his wife became almost dithyrambic.
+
+All next day, as we steamed past the archipelago of rocks and barren
+islands that fringes the coast of Korea, the sea remained calm as a
+pond, and when at half-past six o’clock on Thursday morning we dropped
+anchor off the quarantine station at Nagasaki all doubt seemed to
+be at an end. There was some delay, however, as, though the doctors
+quickly came on board, made their examinations, and gave us a clean
+bill of health, it takes time to get under way again, enter the
+harbour, and take up a berth amongst the shipping this bustling port
+always contains. We anchored at seven-twenty. The record-breaker knew
+nothing about the place, and it is a long way to the station. I knew
+it well, however, and, as I felt as keen on his catching that train as
+he did himself, I chartered a _sampan_ and had all our luggage lowered
+into it, whilst he went up on to the bridge to express his thanks and
+present the watch to the captain. I saw him take it from his pocket
+and make a little speech as he handed it over, and I saw the captain
+bow his thanks. Then he shook hands, and in another moment he was
+beside me and we were being rapidly pulled to the landing-place, or
+_hatoba_.
+
+[Illustration: “’AIN’T IT A BEAUTY?’ AND HE HELD IT OUT FOR
+ADMIRATION.”]
+
+There was not a moment to lose. It was past seven-thirty, and a good
+twenty minutes to the station. Hastily bidding the _sampan_ to wait
+with my luggage, I engaged rickshaws and we were off at full speed. We
+reached the station at seven-fifty-five. Having Japanese money on me I
+paid the rickshaws, whilst he bought his ticket with money he had got
+exchanged by the steamer’s purser.
+
+He hastily shook hands, thanked me, and got into the train just one
+moment before it left.
+
+The watch had _really_ done it, but by actually less than a minute, and
+if I had not been there to help him he would have failed after all. He
+promised to write me from Yokohama, but this he never did. The last I
+saw of him he was waving his hat out of the window to me till the train
+was out of sight.
+
+The last I heard of him was a few weeks later, when I read in an
+American Press telegram that he had won his spurs and had beaten the
+previous best round the world by exactly twelve days.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: A White Woman in Cannibal-Land.]
+
+BY ANNIE KER.
+
+    Some incidents of a lady’s life in the wilds of New
+    Guinea. Miss Ker went out to Papua--as the country is now
+    called--attached to a mission, and describes the many strange,
+    amusing, and exciting experiences she encountered during her
+    seven years’ sojourn among the natives, who, not so very long
+    ago, were always fighting and much addicted to cannibalism--a
+    practice which still prevails among the wild tribes of the
+    unexplored interior.
+
+
+III.
+
+Towards the end of my stay in Papua my special work was translation,
+chiefly of the Scriptures, and there was a big pile of manuscript
+awaiting revision. This was generally done by one of the mission clergy
+and myself, assisted by intelligent natives who possessed a quick ear
+for mistakes. The little boy seen in the first photograph was known
+as “the Pundit,” because, although only fourteen years old, he gave
+us great assistance in the difficult work of translation. He had a
+wonderful memory, and was very discriminating in his choice of words.
+He would sometimes volunteer opinions as to the style of the sacred
+writers, and considered the Prophet Jeremiah, on the whole, “easier”
+than Isaiah--in which I agree with him, so far as concerns rendering
+the books into a native dialect. Perhaps it was for this reason that
+our youthful “Pundit,” when he was baptised and formally discarded his
+heathen name of Bonagadona, chose that of “Jeremiah,” by which imposing
+cognomen he is now known.
+
+Before long the revision work came to a standstill, however, for my
+fellow-reviser had gone far north to a pioneer station called Ambasi.
+It was finally decided that, accompanied by our mission nurse, I should
+take the MSS. to Ambasi and finish the revision there. So we set out on
+our long journey up the coast in the little fourteen-foot schooner. I
+am not a good sailor, and I found the journey very uncomfortable; I was
+only able to admire Nature when we anchored.
+
+[Illustration: “THE PUNDIT”--THIS LITTLE LAD, THOUGH ONLY FOURTEEN
+YEARS OLD, RENDERED THE AUTHORESS GREAT ASSISTANCE IN THE DIFFICULT
+WORK OF TRANSLATING THE SCRIPTURES.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+We spent a very interesting time in Collingwood Bay, where only two
+white women had ever been seen, and that within the year. The women
+here wore strips of tappa cloth from waist to knee, instead of the
+grass skirts of the more eastern tribes, and the houses were of a finer
+and larger type.
+
+The villagers, after they had got over their surprise at seeing us,
+gave us almost too hearty a welcome. We were implored to pull down our
+hair, and great was the astonishment expressed at the sight when we did
+so. They also failed entirely to understand our hairpins, hats, and,
+above all, our long noses and small waists! The Papuans’ methods of
+hairdressing, however, would certainly cause almost equal astonishment
+in civilization. Look, for instance, at the following photograph, which
+depicts the coiffure of a man belonging to the dreaded Doriri tribe,
+a people living inland from Uiaku, whose warlike instincts have not
+yet been subdued. It will be noticed that the hair is allowed to grow
+long, divided into plaits, and elaborately braided until it looks like
+a collection of rope-ends.
+
+[Illustration: A NATIVE OF THE DREADED DORIRI TRIBE--THE HAIR IS
+DIVIDED INTO PLAITS AND BRAIDED, UNTIL IT LOOKS LIKE A COLLECTION OF
+ROPE-ENDS.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+At Wanigera, a few miles away, where a mission station had been in
+existence longer than at Uiaku, we met with a quieter reception,
+though one old woman, after a long look at me, asked a child if I were
+_really_ a woman. I wondered what strange creature she imagined I was,
+for surely, in a white muslin frock, she could hardly have taken me for
+a man!
+
+During our stay at Wanigera a great hunt took place, and some of the
+warriors called on us before setting out. Their ornaments were very
+striking, and the colours almost dazzling. Altogether they looked a
+very fine set of men, and would, no doubt, prove enemies much to be
+dreaded in the day of battle. On this occasion, however, they only
+waged war with the brute creation, and they told us at the close of the
+day that the bag was a very good one.
+
+The interior of the great church on Sunday was a fine sight, being
+filled with from two to three hundred natives, all decked out in
+feathers, shell ornaments, gay tappa cloth, and vivid flowers. Not
+less striking was the almost military precision with which each row
+of worshippers left the building in turn at the close of the service.
+If these natives went in for such amenities of civilization as church
+parades, the spectacle would be a striking one indeed.
+
+In a neighbouring village to Wanigera there is a remarkable tree house,
+prepared by the tribesmen as a place of refuge from marauding enemies.
+From the heights of this arboreal retreat they were able to hurl down
+stones upon the attacking party.
+
+[Illustration: PAPUAN WOMEN DECORATED FOR A DEATH-DANCE.
+
+[_From a Photograph._]]
+
+A fine specimen of Papuan womanhood may be seen in the middle figure
+of the next photograph reproduced. These women are natives of Nonof,
+a village not far from Wanigera. They were profusely ornamented in
+order that they might take part in a dance held after the death of a
+chief. It is almost an unheard-of occurrence for women to don such
+decorations, which are regarded as the exclusive property of the men,
+and it looks as though the ladies were beginning to agitate for equal
+privileges in the way of finery with their lords and masters. A native,
+on being shown my collection of curios, which included some ornaments,
+remarked that I was _me oroto_, or “like a man,” because of my many
+possessions.
+
+[Illustration: PREPARING LIME FOR USE IN BETEL-CHEWING.
+
+[_From a Photograph._]]
+
+The natives of Papua are very much addicted to betel-chewing. Areca
+palms are plentiful up the coast, but pepper-leaf and lime are required
+as well. The lime--which in some districts is prepared from coal--is
+obtained in Collingwood Bay by burning shells. The above photograph
+well illustrates the primitive process in use for slaking the lime
+after the burning of the shells. The lime is then stored, and ladled
+out from a calabash when required.
+
+[Illustration: A HUT IN THE FOREST--OBSERVE THE REMARKABLE ROOF.
+
+[_From a Photograph._]]
+
+Our stay at Wanigera having come to an end, we embarked once more on
+the little schooner and set off again. We anchored each night, for the
+native captain was not very certain of his bearings, and reefs were
+plentiful. On the third day after leaving Wanigera, however, he was
+either influenced by the crew or had a sudden impulse of recklessness,
+for after the sun had set he tried, in the uncertain light, to bring
+the boat into harbour on a particularly reef-bound part of the coast.
+There was a strong wind blowing, and the waves were slapping angrily
+against the sides of the vessel, when suddenly, without a moment’s
+warning, there was a grating shock, and we realized that we had struck
+a reef. It was almost dark by now, and the lights of the settlement
+could be seen two or three miles away.
+
+The captain let go the anchor at once, but the boat began to roll so
+violently that we felt doubtful as to whether the cable would stand
+the strain. Meanwhile the boys scrambled into the dinghy and rowed
+around to investigate our position. Strange though it may seem, no
+harm appeared to have been done to the boat, but we were so surrounded
+by reefs that we did not dare to move from where we were anchored. So
+there we pitched and rolled about all night, though the strength of
+the wind abated later on. What with one thing and another, I felt like
+a very frightened tennis-ball, and I was extremely thankful when, at
+sunrise, we were able to make for the shore, where we spent the day and
+night at the house of a friendly magistrate.
+
+[Illustration: A FISHERMAN’S HOUSE AND CANOE.
+
+[_From a Photograph._]]
+
+We were now only thirty or forty miles from our destination, and the
+next afternoon arrived at Ambasi. No white women had ever been there
+before, and for many days we were visited by parties of natives, all
+eager to see the strange white ladies. Women carrying their babies
+astride on their shoulders, old men leading little boys, and married
+couples, with or without their families, would pay us long visits,
+wanting to know what a sewing-machine was, to look at our bedrooms,
+and, above all, to taste our food. The nurse had her hands full soon
+after she arrived, for the people had great faith in her remedies, and
+patients presented themselves in shoals for treatment. Her pet patients
+appeared to be old men, who became frightfully jealous of one another
+if she appeared to devote more attention to one than another. They
+would glare fiercely at the patient who was being rubbed or otherwise
+treated, and were only partly mollified when their own turn came.
+
+During our stay at Ambasi we dispensed with such luxuries as mirrors
+and sheets, and rolled ourselves in blankets, to sleep contentedly
+in hammocks slung on the veranda. We could not, however, do without
+mosquito nets, for without them rest would have been quite impossible.
+At night we were surrounded by the pale sparks of fireflies, and far
+below, on the beach, the natives’ flaring torches would flicker for
+hours as they fished, standing patiently in the sea. In the early
+morning the sweet notes of a bird would wake us from some lofty tree at
+the edge of the thick forest close by, behind which rose in majesty the
+great Owen Stanley range, standing out distinctly in the clear morning
+air. The highest peak, Mount Albert Edward, over thirteen thousand
+feet high, had not long before been ascended for the first time by a
+magistrate and one of the mission staff.
+
+We could not always keep dry under our roof, which allowed the rain to
+penetrate it in many places. One memorable night I piled nearly all my
+belongings in a heap covered by a mat, and at last sought shelter from
+the prevailing showers under the table, which was, I am glad to say,
+rainproof. But it would not have done to be without rain, for it was
+our only water supply, the spring on the beach being too brackish to
+drink.
+
+The Ope, a small river, was only three miles distant, within easy
+reach of the station by boat or beach. I visited it one Sunday morning,
+taking with me a village boy who knew a little broken English. It was
+a glorious walk on the hard yellow sand, for the tide was out, but the
+return journey was most fatiguing, for the waves had covered the firm
+portion, and at each step I sank ankle-deep in the yielding sand.
+
+When we reached the Ope no canoes were to be seen, except on the
+farther bank. We called and beckoned, and after a time a small boy
+brought one over to us, on which we embarked. There were no paddles,
+a very slender stick being our only means of propelling it, and we
+naturally made poor progress. Our little ferry-man, however, was not
+disconcerted. Kneeling down and putting his right leg overboard he
+obligingly paddled with that, and most successfully.
+
+It was at the place to which I was going that the launch had once been
+wrecked, and where, some years before, the Bishop of New Guinea and
+one of his laymen had spent the night in peril of their lives, after
+escaping from drowning and from a shark. It was with some anxiety,
+therefore, that I looked forward to our arrival.
+
+I am bound to say, however, that no one could now accuse the villagers
+of evil designs on us, for I was presented with a young coconut to
+drink, and saw nothing amiss in the behaviour of the natives, unless a
+request to take down my hair can be regarded as such.
+
+A chief had died the week before, and the dead man seemed to have been
+related to the majority of the people, for many were daubed with light
+yellow clay, which is their form of mourning. The widow herself was
+seated on her husband’s grave, which was situated _inside_ the house.
+There, according to tribal etiquette, she must remain until she had
+finished making her mourning jacket of netted string trimmed with
+“Job’s tears.” I was glad the poor thing had something to occupy her
+mind, for the horror of the situation was increased by the presence of
+two old crones who, one on each side of her, wailed incessantly.
+
+Burial in the house in more settled parts of Papua has been forbidden
+by the Government, and where the missions are located graveyards have
+been set aside and fenced in.
+
+When my work at Ambasi was over the little schooner arrived once more
+to take us back. It was now the calm season, and our progress was
+decidedly slow. The little cabin below, where the nurse and I slept,
+was stuffy in the extreme, and it was delightful to get on deck in the
+early morning, though I was seldom able to do more than lie there with
+a bit of sail or a blanket stretched above to keep off the rays of the
+sun. Then it would become unbearably hot, and I would retreat to the
+airless cabin once more until the cool of the evening approached. All
+day long the sails flapped aimlessly and the blocks thudded loudly on
+the deck, for the breeze was usually too light to help us. Towards
+evening a wind sprang up, but too late to enable us to make for an
+anchorage among the reefs in the treacherous half-light. Matters
+improved as we got farther down the coast, however, and though on the
+last day we saw a waterspout in the distance we met with no mishaps,
+and finally reached our journey’s end in safety.
+
+Though there are marked differences in the Papuans themselves, as well
+as in their dwellings and languages, the time will come, no doubt,
+when, under the influence of the white man, they will abandon their
+primitive Stone Age ways for twentieth-century ones. Then, probably,
+much of their charm will vanish. They may reap many benefits, but, as
+with so many other savage races, it is more than likely that the change
+will not be altogether to their advantage. At any rate, I am glad that
+I have lived with them and known them at home, while they are still
+unspoiled children of Nature.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: My Experiences in Algeria.]
+
+BY THE BARONESS DE BOERIO.
+
+    The Baroness’s husband, an officer in the French army, was
+    ordered to Algeria, and took his wife and children with him.
+    There, located at a tiny post far from civilization, in the
+    midst of fierce and unruly tribes, the authoress met with some
+    very strange adventures, which she here sets forth in a chatty
+    and amusing fashion.
+
+
+II.
+
+Some time after my arrival at Teniet-el-Haad my husband and I, together
+with our first lieutenant and his wife, were invited to a “diffa” given
+in our honour by a Caid named Si Benrajah.
+
+[Illustration: THE FRINGE OF THE DESERT.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+He most politely sent his wagonette to fetch us and was at the door
+of his house to receive us. He was a tall, good-looking man, and
+his costume was exquisite. His _serronal_, or wide trousers, were
+of pale-grey satin cloth, the large pockets on each side richly
+embroidered in silk braid of the same shade. Silver lace covered his
+short bolero, which opened over a shirt which was a mass of green and
+red silk, gold and silver embroidery. Over that again he wore a lovely
+white silk “haik,” which, covering his head-dress and kept in place
+by the “camel cords,” fell round his shoulders, and was then caught
+up in front from the knee to the gold waistbelt by a cerise coloured
+silk handkerchief. Over his shoulders hung his burnous, the outer one
+of fine grey cloth to match the costume, handsomely embroidered at the
+corners and round the hood, the under one of fine white flannel.
+
+He led us majestically into his “drawing-room”--which, alas! bore
+unmistakable traces of the Caid’s various journeys to Paris. There was
+nothing Arab but the lovely carpets and the smell.
+
+A rickety Louis XV. _canapé_, with chairs to match, stood stiffly
+against the walls; their coverings of chintz badly wanted washing.
+An oval table, a walnutwood wardrobe, a washing-stand without the
+accessories, and two big mirrors, whose frames had once been gilded,
+completed the furniture. We here partook of refreshments in the
+unromantic shape of absinthe and lemonade, accompanied by Huntley
+and Palmer’s biscuits and wafers. I was much disappointed, for I had
+hoped to see something more Arab and to eat and drink according to
+the customs of the land. I supposed this was “progress” in Benrajah’s
+idea; at any rate, he looked most satisfied with himself and his
+surroundings. He introduced another Caid to us--the Caid of Biskra, I
+think, who was passing through--a fine, handsome man, whose photograph
+is here reproduced.
+
+[Illustration: THE CAID OF BISKRA.
+
+[_From a Photograph._]]
+
+We breakfasted in a large tent, as Benrajah said it was still too warm
+in the house. Remembering the close, “camelly” sort of smell, I quite
+agreed with him.
+
+As we entered the tent Mme. G----, the lieutenant’s wife, whispered to
+me, “Now, mind you don’t refuse a single dish the Caid offers you. If
+you do you will mortally offend him, especially as it is the first time
+you break bread under his roof, and the ‘diffa’ is in your honour.”
+
+“All right,” I answered, cheerily.
+
+“Bon! bon! bon!” she cried. “Don’t forget, you _must_ eat everything he
+offers you.” She skipped off roaring with laughter, which, at the time,
+I thought very silly of her.
+
+I was again very disappointed by the civilized, European way in which
+we ate. Instead of squatting cross-legged on the ground, eating
+with brotherly love out of the same dish with a wooden spoon or our
+fingers, we sat round a well-laid table, with knives and forks, and
+dinner-napkins embroidered with the Caid’s initials. Everyone and
+everything is getting so horribly civilized nowadays, I reflected,
+sadly.
+
+The repast began with a red-hot liquid in which vermicelli floated.
+It burnt my unaccustomed mouth and I did not fall in love with it,
+but as I had never tasted anything like it before I did not even want
+to refuse when the Caid offered me a second helping. After the soup
+came some boiled chicken, on which the red liquid had been poured. He
+helped me largely--twice. The third course was mutton, with prunes; the
+fourth mutton, with red liquid; the fifth a French _ragoût_, with an
+Arab taste; the sixth was chicken without the red liquid; the seventh
+an Irish stew gone wrong; the eighth--well, perhaps my readers are
+beginning to feel as tired as I did after having partaken twice of all
+these dishes. Indeed, I was beginning to feel very serious, and longed
+ardently for the end of this Gargantuan repast.
+
+After about the twelfth course an Arab in waiting cleared a space on
+the table before the Caid. My hopes were raised to the heights, but,
+alas! only to fall to the lowest depths in a very short space of time.
+Suddenly something knocked my hat on one side, and everyone yelled
+at me. Dazed, I looked round and rubbed my nose into a sheep’s leg.
+Starting back, I met the convulsed and, as I imagined, reproachful
+eye of an enormous sheep lying in a contorted attitude on a big brass
+platter. Si Benrajah turned to me with a gracious smile. “I am much
+honoured, madam,” he said, in perfect French, “in being the first to
+offer you a ‘meshui’ on your arrival in Algeria.”
+
+[Illustration: A TYPICAL ARAB HUT.
+
+[_From a Photograph._]]
+
+A “meshui,” I learnt, is a royal dish, and is only offered to those
+the Arabs delight (or are compelled) to honour. It is simply a whole
+sheep roasted over wood embers, and served uncut on a brass or silver
+platter. It should not be cut with a knife, but torn off with the
+fingers and eaten. If you wish to be particularly polite to a friend
+who is present, you wrench off a piece of flesh and present it with
+your greasy fingers, and he receives it much flattered, returning
+the compliment with _his_ greasy fingers. This style of eating was
+certainly not over-civilized, so I ought to have been better pleased
+than I was. As a matter of fact I felt very bad, and hoped against hope
+that the Caid would forget me.
+
+“You are not yet accustomed to our habits,” he said, kindly. “Take a
+knife and fork and cut off the meat.”
+
+So I cut off a few small bits in a dilatory way, secretly wondering if
+I could not surreptitiously throw them to some lean, hungry dogs who
+were peering into the tent door.
+
+“What silly little bits!” cried Benrajah, laughingly. Then, after well
+licking his brown, henna-stained fingers, he tore off a huge piece and
+offered it to me! A cold perspiration broke out on my forehead, and I
+almost longed for death.
+
+“Eat! eat!” he cried, gaily; and, choking down my despair, I ate.
+
+How could I dare to do otherwise after Mme. G----’s warning? Are not
+the laws of hospitality sacred and to be observed throughout the world?
+But it was terrible tribute to pay to foreign customs, and I felt a
+lesser desire for originality.
+
+“It is good?” inquired the Caid.
+
+“Delicious! delicious!” I answered, with a ghastly green smile.
+
+“Ah! Here is a _comme il faut Roumia_!” he cried, enchanted--and
+promptly tore me off a beautiful brown piece of meat, weighing, I
+should think, about three pounds! My cup of anguish was full, and I
+prayed--yes, actually prayed--to be delivered from that three pounds of
+meat.
+
+And I was.
+
+Crash! The table-cloth was half dragged off, and, amid a rain of knives
+and forks, plates and glasses, my little girl rolled on to the ground.
+I did not lose my presence of mind, but, seizing my pounds of meat,
+all unseen in the commotion I threw them to the lean dogs, who made
+very short work of them. Then my motherly feelings came to the fore,
+and I went to the rescue of my child. It was soon apparent what had
+happened--the poor mite had been given too much wine by the thoughtless
+Mme. G----, and was very seedy for some days afterwards.
+
+It would be reasonable to suppose that the “meshui” was the last of the
+courses, but it disappeared only to give place to the Arab national
+dish, the “couscous.” At sight of the snowy pile of rolled semolina,
+surmounted by more mutton, a feeling of revolt took possession of me.
+I felt I could dare Lucifer himself; and so I refused the couscous,
+although in a cowardly way, by pretending that fresh air was necessary
+for my poor little Renée. Perhaps it was, but if it had not been I
+should have said the same.
+
+I do not think I ever quite forgave Mme. G---- her two practical jokes,
+for practical jokes they were. When I described my sufferings at having
+to eat all the Caid gave me, she laughed herself ill and said, “What
+a ‘blue’ you are!” Which is the French military way of calling you a
+greenhorn.
+
+[Illustration: “I LOOKED ROUND JUST IN TIME TO SEE AN ARAB LOWERING HIS
+GUN.”]
+
+One of my husband’s great amusements in this out-of-the-way garrison
+was to construct a hiding-place, in front of which he fixed the
+carcass of some dead animal, and there, gun in hand, to await the wild
+beasts such as hyenas, jackals, lynxes, and golden foxes, who scented
+from afar the goodly supper awaiting them. On these occasions they
+generally found too much pepper, and often suffered from a mortal
+indigestion. I sometimes accompanied my husband on such expeditions,
+and greatly enjoyed crouching silently in some hidden corner, listening
+to the wailing of an approaching hyena, or the querulous squabbling
+and howling of the shrieking jackals. And then, when the dry sticks
+cracked and the dead leaves rustled quite close to me under their
+stealthy pads, my heart would leap into my mouth for fear they should
+mistake _me_ for their supper. One night whilst thus listening to some
+approaching creature my husband, crouching about twenty yards from me,
+suddenly rose up and called out in Arabic, “Who goes there?” I looked
+round just in time to see an Arab huntsman lowering his gun, which was
+pointed full at _me_. He thought I was a hyena!
+
+During the winter, when the snow lay thick on the ground, I preferred
+staying at home to keep up a huge fire and fabricate hot drinks in
+readiness for the frozen huntsman’s return; it seemed to me more a
+wife’s duty!
+
+Another short incident of my life in Teniet-el-Haad may not be
+uninteresting. My husband had gone to the manœuvres with his Spahis,
+and our _bordj_ was only guarded by about thirty “Tirailleurs
+Algerians.” Then, one day, a terrific storm burst over the land. The
+air was so thick with fine sand that I could not distinguish the trees
+before my windows, and the sun hung in the sky like a lurid orange
+ball, seemingly about to drop. The heat was stifling; one gasped for
+breath, and, although every door and window was hermetically closed,
+the rooms were full of sand.
+
+Presently a terrible clamour arose from the village--shouts, cries,
+screams, gun-shots. Then from the _bordj_ courtyard I heard sharp
+orders given, the clanking of weapons, and finally the sound of a body
+of infantry running. The wind howled and shrieked, the sand-storm grew
+denser and denser, and still the clamour continued in the village.
+I sat in the drawing-room with my little ones around me, wondering
+if it were a serious revolt, and what would happen to us if it were.
+For the district of Teniet-el-Haad was a large one, containing thirty
+thousand Arabs, and we were far from any important garrison, while our
+protectors, all Arab, consisted of thirty “tirailleurs,” and ten Spahis
+belonging to the “Commune Mixte.” Pensively I placed my revolver close
+to my hand, and waited anxiously.
+
+After a few hours the sirocco cleared somewhat, the noise ceased, and
+the tirailleurs returned. The whole affair, they told me, had been got
+up by the mountain Arabs against the Jews, who had been “doing” them.
+So the Arabs had taken the law into their own hands and administered
+justice by repaying themselves a hundred-fold and making off with their
+booty up the mountains, well hidden by the sand-storm. In the scuffle
+a boy and two men were killed, all Jews--so it did not matter, so the
+folks said.
+
+My husband was second captain at Teniet-el-Haad, having given up his
+rank as first captain in the Hussars in order to facilitate his return
+to a regiment. He was therefore the oldest in grade in the 1st Spahis,
+and the earliest vacancy as first captain fell to him. We had been at
+Teniet about ten months when he received orders to take command of the
+Laghouat squadron. It was the beginning of February; snow lay thick and
+deep on the ground up in this high altitude, and the great question
+arose how we were to get to Laghouat. Should we take the short cut by
+carriage across the mountains to Boghar, where the regimental brake
+would meet us and take us on, or go down to Affreville by the rickety
+diligence, train to Medeah, and continue by carriage?
+
+Going by train was a difficulty and an extra expense on account of our
+dogs. We had four--three fox-terriers and a shooting dog. I do not
+know what he called himself, but he had a double-barrelled nose and an
+over-frank and exuberant nature. He and Charleston, the old fox, could
+not bear each other. It was quite impossible to put them together in
+the dog-box, and to pack them separately would have cost as much as
+four times as many children. So, in consideration of their feelings
+and our purse, we decided--oh, irony!--to take the short cut if the
+snow and slush would allow of a carriage travelling along the narrow
+mountain tracks.
+
+We consulted the different French and native authorities, and finally
+decided, if the snow and slush would allow, to take the short cut over
+the mountains. We started off one fine morning at five, in a small
+brake lent by a Caid, who also promised to send us four strong mules
+to an inn some twenty miles off. The first twenty miles were soon
+done, and at half-past seven we were enjoying some good hot coffee,
+whilst our Spahi was unharnessing his team and making inquiries as to
+the whereabouts of the new relay and coachman. Ten minutes after he
+appeared, with a very concerned face. “Mon capitaine, Sidi Belgacun has
+sent two mules no bigger than donkeys, and the boy who drives them is a
+mere baby!”
+
+This sounded cheerful, and with one accord we went out to inspect.
+The Spahi’s account was unfortunately but slightly exaggerated, and
+we stood staring at our tiny steeds with dismay. We had still fifty
+kilometres before us, and the roads for at least twenty-five were
+nothing but cross-country paths. Should we turn back, or try to find
+other horses and go on? I voted emphatically for going on. Aided by the
+Spahi, my husband finally unearthed a man and two horses, and at eight
+o’clock we set off once more.
+
+Everything again went well for ten kilometres; then our misfortunes
+really began. When going up a hill the ground grew soft and the wheels
+of the brake sank in.
+
+“The snow is melting farther on,” remarked the coachman, laconically;
+“the underground springs are overflowing.”
+
+On we went laboriously, our Jehu yelling at the struggling horses,
+whilst the carriage wobbled to and fro in a most alarming fashion.
+“Don’t you think it would do us good to walk a bit?” I suggested. “It
+would make things easier for the horses.”
+
+“It would be safer,” said my husband, who was looking anxious.
+
+So out we got--and two minutes later the whole concern toppled over,
+our boxes, portmanteaux, and packets flying all over the place. The
+horses were plunging and kicking; the coachman, an Italian, and the
+Arab boy were yelling and swearing in their respective languages,
+whilst my husband _exclaimed_ in French (he doesn’t swear, but I am
+sure he would have liked to on this occasion). The scene was so
+unutterably comic that I could not help myself; I laughed until the
+tears rolled down my cheeks. I draw a curtain over the face my better
+half turned on me--scowling was not in it--and although I assured him I
+was really quite as upset as the carriage he has not recovered from my
+frivolity to this day.
+
+The men picked up the carriage and the baggage and put all in order
+and we thought we should get on again, but, alas! the wheels refused
+to move an inch; the more we tried the deeper they sank. After two
+hours of vain endeavour, Peppino, the coachman, suggested sending Ali
+to have a look round the country to see if he could find a village and
+get men with spades to come and dig us out. The boy set off, returning
+later with five stalwart men, who comparatively soon dug us out and
+accompanied us for a few kilometres on our way, pushing and yelling
+when necessary. Then they left us, saying the road was good right up to
+Boghar. It was now past two o’clock, and our lunch loomed very dimly in
+the far distance, having been ordered for twelve o’clock at Boghar.
+
+About three o’clock we saw snow on the side of the road, which again
+grew slushy and soft. My husband and Peppino were obliged to run
+behind, pushing at the wheels at the difficult places, whilst the Arab
+boy cheered on his mules and Peppino’s horses.
+
+The snow got deeper and deeper. Presently we passed a carriage
+abandoned on the side of the road, farther on a dead horse, and again a
+form, which looked terribly human, covered by a white pall.
+
+After a while we came to a wider part. On the right was a sloping
+mountain-side half covered with snow, half with golden narcissus,
+and showing a dry watercourse, dotted about with huge stones. On the
+left was a smooth field of snow, across which wheel marks could be
+distinguished. “We must cross here,” said Peppino, “as someone has
+before us; the snow is doubtless hard, and by whipping up the horses I
+will get you over. The road is impossible.”
+
+My husband was not of the same opinion. He considered the watercourse
+a better road than a snow-field, and the presence of stones made him
+surmise that the bottom was hard.
+
+The matter was hotly discussed, but finally my husband gave in, seeing
+that Peppino knew the road and he did not.
+
+Away we galloped--bump, bump, bump. Then, without warning, there came
+a tremendous crack, and, lo and behold! there we were, sitting in our
+carriage, whilst the horses and Peppino continued with the wheels! It
+was, of course, a terrible dilemma, but again I had to laugh; it was
+really too funny.
+
+My husband and Peppino carried me and the children and perched each of
+us on a stone, where I stood on one leg and cawed like a crow. “One
+should always take misfortunes gaily,” I said. That was the last straw;
+my better half had to laugh, but the smile was rather sickly. Then we
+held a council of war.
+
+Peppino, good man, saved the situation. “I will go back with the horses
+and fetch the carriage we saw abandoned at the side of the road,” he
+said. “I know the owner, and will take the responsibility for borrowing
+it on my own shoulders.”
+
+So off he went, whilst we cawed to one another from stone to stone and
+ate snow, there being nothing else to do. Before long Peppino returned
+triumphantly with the borrowed carriage, the luggage was transferred,
+and we started off again, leaving our first equipage standing
+disconsolately in the snow.
+
+All went well until eight o’clock, although my husband and Peppino had
+constantly to push at the wheels. They both looked ten years older than
+at the start, so lined and weary were their faces. At about eight we
+came to a narrow track, a real road winding round the mountain above a
+fathomless precipice. On each side the snow lay in drifts of five and
+six feet deep, and the centre track showed no sign of previous passage.
+
+We had not gone fifty yards along this road when the horses stopped and
+the wheels disappeared in a drift. Yelling, pushing, and pulling had no
+effect whatever. The horses were then harnessed to the splash-board,
+but their strenuous efforts only resulted in tearing it from the body
+of the carriage.
+
+All this time I was sitting in the snow trying to keep the little
+one warm, and hopefully encouraging the two elder ones, Charlie and
+Renée. From the mountain top came the discordant howling and barking of
+jackals; from the blackness below arose the sad wailing of a hyena. I
+very nearly became tearful.
+
+Peppino again offered his services, and proposed riding off to fetch
+help at a sheikh’s some ten miles away.
+
+“Get into the carriage, wrap yourselves up warmly with everything
+available, and wait,” he said. “In five or six hours I will bring
+assistance.”
+
+There was nothing else to be done, so we made the best of a bad job,
+packed ourselves up, and tried to sleep. The children, of course,
+succeeded at once, as did my husband, worn out with the efforts of the
+day, but I could not. My hunger was great, and I do not think I have
+ever before or since imagined such cold. Talk of African heat; African
+_cold_ has the first place in my memory.
+
+[Illustration: “I KICKED VIGOROUSLY, SHOUTING ‘HENRI!’ AND ‘PEPPINO!’”]
+
+The night was pitch-dark, and it was far from amusing to sit there
+listening to the animals prowling round. A hyena or so came very near
+to our mules, who shivered and snorted for a long time after.
+
+Numbed with cold, I suppose I at last fell asleep. Suddenly I was
+awakened by a great commotion. Then came yelling, the sound of
+horses plunging, and I heard the children shrieking “Mother!” I rose
+precipitately, a light flashed in my face, baby was seized from me, and
+I myself was borne off like an infant by a man who appeared to be a
+giant. He hurried away up the mountain-side without a word, which did
+not at all seem to me the right behaviour of rescuers. Why thus seize
+us and bear us off into the mountains?
+
+We must have been attacked by brigands, and my husband knifed as he
+slept! I kicked vigorously, shouting “Henri!” and “Peppino!” but
+received no answer, and my heart sank. Then I called “Charlie!”
+“Renée!” and to my great joy their voices answered quite close behind
+me. I therefore left off kicking--which, indeed, had no effect on
+my burly captor--and consoled myself with the thought that, though
+apparently a widow, I was not left childless.
+
+After five minutes or so my giant began to shout. Other voices
+answered; then suddenly I was planted on my feet in the inky darkness,
+but almost at once a dozen matches were struck and held to a huge heap
+of dry brushwood. In two seconds we had a royal bonfire, which not only
+warmed us but lit up the country all round.
+
+Brigands or no brigands, I thought, these Arabs were very thoughtful
+fellows.
+
+I asked several times, “Where is my husband?” but they all raised their
+hands and shoulders in vague denial of any knowledge of his existence.
+I was beginning to be really alarmed when his welcome form loomed in
+view astride a mule. I do not think we have ever quite understood how
+he came to miss us in the confusion caused by the headlong arrival of
+our rescuers. He had galloped after us along a road where we had not
+been at all; but, not finding us, had come back, and had been guided by
+the firelight.
+
+After a good warming at the fire we started for the sheikh’s house,
+ten miles off, the children being carried by Arabs on horseback, and I
+astride a mule on a “barda.” On our arrival we found couscous and sour
+milk awaiting us, and--what was far better--some good mattresses spread
+on the ground in a big, white-washed room. At ten next morning we left,
+the kindly sheikh having lent us his wagonette. Peppino had gone back
+with some Arabs to dig out and bring along Carriage Number Two.
+
+[Illustration: THE BARONESS DE BOERIO, WHO HERE DESCRIBES HER
+ADVENTURES IN ALGERIA.
+
+[_From a Photograph._]]
+
+About half-way to Boghar we met the regimental brake coming spanking
+along. The soldier driving told us that at eight o’clock an Arab had
+come to him saying that he was to harness up at once and drive for
+eight miles along the Teniet road, when he would find the Spahis’
+captain, who was stranded with his family at Sheikh ben Shinan’s.
+
+This experience of Arab telegraphy rather astonished us, for we were
+still greenhorns in this respect. Since then nothing of the kind
+surprises us; I have often learnt of distant happenings from the Arabs
+long before our own civilized methods brought me the news. Arabs travel
+a great deal by night, passing on the tidings from one to another--they
+are terrible gossips--so that it is the case of the hare and the
+tortoise. Their signalling is done by movements of the burnous by day
+and fires by night. In each district certain heights are especially
+used for this purpose. Whilst travelling by road on one occasion I
+remember hearing a long hoot-like call, and on looking in the direction
+of the sound I saw an Arab on a hill, evidently signalling with his
+burnous, for he was making regular up-and-down and to-and-fro movements
+with it. Half an hour after we saw another Arab with a huge flock
+of sheep. In the evening, when we arrived at the place we meant to
+camp at, we found ourselves expected by the sheikh, and a hospitable
+couscous prepared. He bade us welcome, saying we were later than he had
+thought. When we inquired how it was he expected us at all, he only
+vouchsafed to say, with half-closed eyes, that he had known we were on
+the road some hours before, and had supposed we would stop the night
+there. Thereupon we remembered the white-robed Arab on the hill and the
+shepherd far away, and began to understand.
+
+
+(_To be concluded._)
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: “Shot-Gun Jim.”]
+
+BY EDWARD FRANKLIN CAMPBELL.
+
+    It is safe to say that few commercial travellers meet with such
+    exciting experiences as befell the three “drummers” who figure
+    in this narrative. A business trip into the wilds of Arizona
+    landed them into as fierce a skirmish with Indian outlaws as
+    could well be imagined.
+
+
+Take a young fellow just raw from city life, throw him into the wilds
+of Arizona, and arrange for him to tumble head-first, so to speak, into
+a brisk skirmish with Indians, and he will have something to remember.
+Such was the experience which befell me about 1890.
+
+For some years I had been travelling through California, visiting the
+largest cities and towns, introducing a “line” of goods for a large
+San Francisco importing concern. Such had been my success that nothing
+would suit my firm but to add Arizona to my territory, a proposition I
+made no objection to.
+
+Of late years Arizona has vastly improved, and trouble with the Indians
+has become almost unknown, especially since that notorious warrior,
+Geronimo, was deported to the State of Florida, but up to the ‘nineties
+there was still an occasional flare-up.
+
+Both Geronimo and the villainous “Apache Kid,” a bloodthirsty red-skin
+brigand, figure in this story, the first indirectly and the second very
+prominently.
+
+[Illustration: THE AUTHOR, MR. EDWARD FRANKLIN CAMPBELL.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+Having reached the town of Wilson, in the southern part of the
+territory, I fell in with two fellow-commercial salesmen--Levy,
+representing a large dry-goods concern, and Bates, handling a line of
+boots for a St. Louis house.
+
+Levy imparted the fact that he was going to visit a large mining camp,
+called World City, located some hundred and sixty miles to the north
+and as many miles distant from the railway. Bates said he would join
+Levy provided I would make one of the party.
+
+Although my route did not include this side-trip, I became convinced
+that it would pay me well to visit World City. By sharing expenses with
+Levy and Bates, the trip could be made most reasonably, so I wired my
+house accordingly, and Levy hastened to make arrangements with a local
+celebrity, a Scotchman named McGill, for transportation.
+
+An agreement having been made with McGill, the balance of the day was
+consumed in making preparations for our departure on the following
+morning. There were blankets to buy, for one is never safe without
+them. No matter how hot and burning the day may be, the nights are
+always crisp and chill on the Arizona plains, and one never knows while
+making such a trip when he will land at his destination. Nine chances
+out of ten he will be hours late. Our journey was no exception to the
+rule.
+
+On the following morning I was aroused by McGill. On the wagon, which
+was a heavy four-wheel affair, he had loaded three shoe-sample trunks,
+the property of Bates, and two immense square trunks carried by Levy.
+Beside this there were sundry boxes and bundles of blankets, as well
+as our heavy overcoats and small personal luggage.
+
+After a hasty breakfast of ham and eggs--I generally ordered ham and
+eggs in Arizona because other meats were far from tender in those
+days--we took our places on the wagon. Levy occupied the front seat
+with McGill, while Bates and I sat on top of a huge trunk, slippery and
+uncertain.
+
+Although the animals seemed good and hardy, they were small, and I do
+not think we realized the great weight of the combined load. At the
+wheels we had a pair of small and nimble mules, and as leaders a pair
+of small bay horses, whose looks did not recommend them.
+
+The first day out all went well, and we reached the little town of
+Bonita, a most desolate-looking place. We had travelled less than
+thirty miles.
+
+We drove up to the door of a little adobe building with a thatched
+roof. On the front a crude sign informed the public that it was
+a “General Store.” Another placard indicated that it was also a
+public-house, or “saloon,” as they are called in America.
+
+On entering we found ourselves in a small room with a rough counter
+running down one side, behind which was the smiling face of the
+proprietor, who lived with his wife and two beautiful daughters in the
+one adjoining room--these two rooms constituting the entire building.
+
+We spent the night on the floor of the store, in front of the counter,
+and next morning resumed our journey, hoping to reach the little group
+of buildings known as Standard before night. In my own mind--and I
+think the others believed the same--I did not really expect to reach
+Standard that night, for it was nearly fifty miles distant and our
+animals were far from fresh.
+
+I think it was about ten o’clock in the morning that we saw a cloud of
+dust several miles ahead. In time it proved to be a company of negro
+soldiers, marching to a neighbouring military post.
+
+As they came alongside we could see a number of rifles sticking out of
+the canvas of the great covered wagons which accompanied them. They
+halted, and an officer, whom McGill said was a colonel, came over. He
+saluted us pleasantly and asked laughingly:--
+
+“Are you not afraid to travel in this direction?”
+
+McGill inquired why, whereupon the officer explained that “Apache Kid”
+was out with a small band of warriors, that Geronimo had disappeared
+from the Indian Reservation, and that serious trouble was brewing.
+The troops, he added, were being moved for the purpose of heading off
+“Apache Kid” and his crowd.
+
+The smiling face of the colonel rather misled me. He did not seem
+really serious, and, as I sized up the situation, I believed it quite
+possible that he recognised our party as “tenderfeet,” and desired to
+frighten us.
+
+After the soldiers had become a mere blur in the distance we resumed
+our journey. We had gone but a few miles farther, however, when an
+accident occurred to our wagon. Something gave way--I don’t remember
+what--and it became impossible to proceed. Levy took a look at the
+wagon and declared it was “no good, anyway”; Bates joined in the
+abuse, and McGill lost his temper. Finally, I acted as peacemaker, and
+suggested that something would have to be done as the afternoon was
+advancing. Either we must return to Bonita on foot, abandoning the
+wagon and contents, or McGill would have to take the team back and
+secure another conveyance.
+
+The last alternative being accepted, we drew lots, and it fell to Levy
+to return to Bonita with McGill, while Bates and I remained to look
+after the property.
+
+McGill insisted that with the load off he would be able to haul the
+wagon back to Bonita for repairs, so we set to work and, after a
+struggle with the trunks, got the vehicle in shape to be drawn.
+
+It was with great misgivings that I saw my companions depart. It was
+not to my liking to remain as a guardian of that mass of luggage. Bates
+did not seem to mind it. He simply offered me his last cigar, then
+lighted it himself and sat down on the bare ground.
+
+I think we could see in every direction for twenty miles and more,
+except toward the mountains, which were to the east, some five miles
+distant.
+
+“Well, Bates,” I said, “what are we going to do? It’s getting mighty
+cold. The wind sweeps down from that mountain as if we might get a
+little of the storm brewing up there.”
+
+“That’s no mistake, my boy, and if I am not in error we are going to
+get snow inside of two hours. Most extraordinary for Arizona.”
+
+“Don’t you think we could arrange some shelter with these trunks and
+roll of canvas?”
+
+“Just the thing, my boy. Glad you suggested it.”
+
+So we set to work and built our house, forming our walls by arranging
+the trunks in a square, leaving a small opening to be used as a door.
+On this we spread the great piece of canvas which had been brought
+along to cover the wagon in case of storm, thus making a roof. That
+it might not be carried away by the wind, which was now howling like
+a hurricane, we weighted it with small boulders. With other rocks
+we built a small fireplace and chimney, without and facing our door.
+With the limited supply of wood, which was very scarce--sagebrush and
+gnarled mesquite--we built a small fire in our fireplace, much to our
+joy, for we were now actually blue with the cold.
+
+The sky was now thoroughly overcast with snow-clouds and the snow was
+beginning to fall, settling in miniature drifts beneath the sage bushes.
+
+In removing the trunks from the wagon our labours had been heavy, and
+we realized, as Bates expressed it, “we were twenty miles from nowhere,
+and not a drop of water nearer than Bonita.”
+
+Bates rummaged through the kit for a drink of any kind, but was only
+able to produce a diminutive flask with about one swallow of whisky in
+it. After offering this to me he took it down with a cheering “Here’s
+to you!”
+
+“Don’t throw away that flask, Bates,” I called to him as I saw him
+taking aim at a near-by sage bush. “I may be able to collect a drink
+with that.”
+
+I filled the little flask as full as I could pack it with snow which
+I collected under the bushes, then held it carefully over the fire,
+reducing the snow to water. This barely gave us enough to moisten our
+lips, and I gave it up.
+
+Then we wrapped ourselves up in our blankets and reclined inside our
+improvised house and discussed matters.
+
+“I say, Bates, what did you think of the colonel’s story about Apaches
+being out?” I asked.
+
+“Can’t say. I know if I were an Apache and had a warm wigwam to
+crawl into, the warpath could go to perdition. I’m sure I wouldn’t
+bother with it this kind of weather. You won’t have the pleasure of
+meeting Geronimo, ’Apache Kid,’ nor any other human--and, I might add,
+inhuman--being till the weather lets up.”
+
+“What have you got for protection in case we do run across them?” I
+asked.
+
+“Well, the only protection I have is a pair of boots made by the Sun
+Shoe Company, which I represent. With these on, and a fair start, I
+might outrun them. That’s all I’ve got for protection. What have you
+got?”
+
+“Well,” I said, rather apologetically, “I have a revolver here, but it
+isn’t much good. It might do to fire salutes with, but I’m afraid it
+would not do much execution. The fact is, I’ve not fired the thing for
+some years.”
+
+“Now, look here, my boy. If you should ever shoot me with that thing,
+and I should find it out, I should be quite put out about it,” said
+Bates, with a laugh. “We might as well quit worrying. If the wild and
+woolly Apaches get us, it’s fate. They’ll get us, that’s all. I’m going
+to sleep.”
+
+[Illustration: LOOKING OUT OF BRICK DUST CANYON.
+
+[_From a Photograph._]]
+
+Suiting the action to the word, he rolled over and left me to my dreary
+thoughts. I tried to sleep and did drop into a light slumber, from
+which I was suddenly awakened by a startled exclamation from Bates.
+
+As I opened my eyes he was just going through the doorway on all fours.
+
+“Bring that revolver here,” he called to me.
+
+As quickly as possible I was out after him. He was gazing towards the
+mountains in the distance.
+
+“What has happened?” I asked, in some alarm at the sudden call to arms.
+
+He explained that something had come to the door of our house. He could
+hear it, but only caught a slight glimpse of it as he raised his head,
+for it dashed out of sight immediately. It was evidently an animal of
+some sort, for we found the marks of its feet and claws in the soft
+earth. Whatever it was we never caught sight of it.
+
+We were now thoroughly awake. The weather had cleared, the sun was
+shining warmly and my spirits were beginning to rise.
+
+Far off, down the incline of the plain, we could see the spot known as
+Bonita. Between us and the town all was open, save for some sage bushes
+here and there dotting the view.
+
+Surely McGill should now be on his way back, but not a sign of him
+could we see.
+
+We recalled the fact that we were hungry. Bates rummaged in the
+kit. The net results were a small paper of biscuits and a tin of
+beef--nothing else.
+
+We ate all the biscuits and half of the beef, collected more firewood,
+and, at about six o’clock, discovered the team slowly wending its way
+from Bonita. It was more than an hour before it arrived at our camp.
+
+Another serious matter now confronted us. Either we must stay with our
+improvised camp or, as McGill suggested, make for Brick Dust Canyon, in
+the mountain, where lived a frontiersman named James W. Smith, who had
+a little farm situated on an oasis of productive earth in the midst of
+this vast wilderness of alkali and sand.
+
+Eventually we decided upon the latter alternative, and succeeded in
+loading up and making a start.
+
+For a long time we crept upward, no one riding except McGill, in order
+to relieve the tired animals.
+
+Reaching the summit of the ascent at last, McGill stopped, for we had
+now to descend into a deep canyon.
+
+Daylight had by this time given way to deepest night, and ahead all
+looked black and forbidding. Our driver could not even see the road,
+which was, moreover, obscured by a growth of trees in the canyon.
+
+“Gentlemen,” said McGill, “this rig has no brake to hold it. There is a
+big down-grade here and a sharp turn at the bottom. From there to Jim’s
+house is about a mile. We must manage to stop one of the hind wheels,
+for these mules will never be able to hold the load in check; besides,
+I can’t see the road, and must let the animals take their course.”
+
+We tied the right rear wheel with a stout bit of rope and started
+again, but with this difference--Levy, Bates, and I each lighted
+cigars, which Levy had brought from Bonita, and, puffing vigorously at
+these, walked ahead of the load, endeavouring to pilot McGill by the
+glow of the lighted “stogies.”
+
+There were times when the mules and the locked wheel were insufficient
+to check the wagon to any great extent, on account of the steepness
+of the grade, but at first all went well. It was not long before we
+reached the sharp turn at the bottom. We were greatly in advance of
+McGill now, and, indeed, we could hear nothing of him, so Levy went
+back to investigate and to warn him of the danger ahead. He found
+the wagon halted at a fairly level spot to recuperate the exhausted
+animals. Levy told the Scotsman that he was about to plunge down the
+last and most precipitous piece of road, and urged him to give it up.
+
+McGill was headstrong, however, and insisted upon going ahead, so we
+took up our stand with our cigars, to mark the turn at the bottom, and
+the big vehicle started.
+
+We could hear it gaining speed every moment. Mingled with the rumbling
+of the wagon and the clatter of the animals’ hoofs we heard the shouts
+of McGill, who had now lost all control over his team.
+
+On they came with a rush and a roar, and we, who were lighting the way,
+discovered we were in some danger. At the last moment we sprang back
+into the rocks and brush at the side as the team swept irresistibly on.
+
+The leaders took the turn all right, but the next instant there was a
+crash and a yell from McGill. The wagon had left the road and plunged
+into a tree, the harness gave way, and Bedlam broke loose.
+
+The Scotsman saved his skin by jumping fairly into a bush, while we
+sprang to the animals’ heads to check them. They showed, however, no
+disposition on their part to run away; they knew when they had had
+enough.
+
+Away down in the distance we could see a light, which McGill said was
+at Jim’s house. He would leave us with the animals and seek assistance
+from the house, he told us.
+
+“I shall go across-lots,” he shouted back to us, “by a trail which will
+save a lot of walking.”
+
+For hours Bates, Levy, and I awaited his return in vain. We exhausted
+every topic of conversation we could think of, and at last, tired,
+disgusted, and feeling thoroughly out of sorts, we set off down the
+road, taking the animals with us.
+
+Although we could still see the light, we walked for a long time before
+we actually arrived before a small adobe house, which was surrounded by
+a thick wall some eight feet high. The road led us to a pair of huge
+solid gates, which, being closed, prevented us seeing within. We called
+out, and in a few seconds a voice answered us, and we were conscious of
+someone approaching the gates with a lantern.
+
+This proved to be Jim Smith himself. He seemed to be in a very merry
+mood, for, although we were total strangers, he almost laughed in our
+faces. He had a story to tell, it soon appeared, of a misfortune which
+had befallen our friend McGill.
+
+It seemed that in attempting to take his short cut “across-lots,” the
+Scotsman had struck a cattle trail, which led to a watering-trough set
+beside a newly-dug well, the existence of which he knew nothing of.
+
+By a curious accident, he walked straight into this well and plunged
+into eight feet of water.
+
+It happened that Smith was at that moment bringing some young cattle
+into his walled enclosure, and, hearing the muffled cries of McGill in
+the well, believed they proceeded from a cow in difficulties.
+
+Lantern in hand, he made his way to the well and called out. Judge of
+his surprise when he heard a voice, as from the tomb, growl:--
+
+“I’ve lost my bloomin’ pipe!”
+
+Looking into the well, he discovered McGill clinging to the sides as
+best he could with fingers and nails. It was but a moment’s work to
+throw him a line and bring him out, as sorry and dejected-looking a
+scarecrow as one could imagine. Strange to relate, it was all that Jim
+could do to keep McGill from going back into the well for his cherished
+briar, the loss of which seemed to worry him greatly.
+
+We found the Scotsman in a very bad temper, complaining bitterly of the
+loss of his pipe, which he told us he was smoking at the time of his
+misfortune.
+
+We received a hearty welcome from Jim and his wife. The latter was
+busy soothing their ten-months-old baby to sleep. There they lived, in
+that little one-room house, eating, sleeping, and cooking in the same
+apartment.
+
+[Illustration: “SHOT-GUN JIM.”
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+I began to speculate as to where we tired travellers would find a place
+to lay our heads. The house was a solid adobe, without windows. In the
+doorway hung a frame, on which was fastened a strip of canvas in lieu
+of a door.
+
+A hearty meal was prepared by Mrs. Smith, after which we were invited
+to go out and bring in our beds.
+
+On our return we found that Mrs. Smith and the babe were already in
+the huge bed in the corner. Jim was preparing to follow, and we were
+invited to spread our blankets on the floor, which, like the Bonita
+store, was mother earth.
+
+Our sleep was far more restful than on the previous night. At an
+early hour we were awakened by Smith, who seemed to be worried about
+something. I followed him to the door of the house and discovered that
+he was holding a whispered conversation with a stranger, a young fellow
+of about eighteen years. As soon as I approached they stopped speaking
+and I was introduced to the young man, whose name was given as “Hank.”
+
+Suddenly Smith spoke:--
+
+“We might as well tell ’em about it, Hank,” he said. “They’ve got to
+know it sooner or later. Tain’t safe to get out of this place now.
+Besides, your horse is used up.”
+
+I glanced in the direction indicated, and saw a horse covered in
+lather, with drooping head and general dejected appearance. I knew he
+must have had fearful riding to be in this condition.
+
+“Well, you tell ’em, Jim,” replied Hank. “I reckon we’re here, all of
+us, to stay awhile.”
+
+“I can’t afford to remain, Mr. Smith,” I said, thinking that the
+wrecked wagon might be the reason for the conversation. “If the outfit
+will hold together I think we had better go on as soon as possible.”
+
+Smith looked at me with pitying eyes.
+
+“You may never leave this place at all,” he returned, gravely. “This
+young man is the only survivor of a massacre, about ten miles from
+here. ‘Apache Kid’ and his band are, perhaps, at this very moment close
+to our gates.”
+
+Instinctively I glanced at the gates, and noticed for the first time
+that heavy timbers were propped against them.
+
+“Not only that, but McGill has disappeared,” continued Smith. “I think
+he may have gone in search of his pipe. We dare not risk going outside
+the enclosure, and he must get back as best he can.”
+
+Just then the others of our party and Mrs. Smith, with the babe in her
+arms, joined us, having begun to realize that something was amiss.
+
+Then Jim began to organize his forces. First he took an inventory of
+the available arms and ammunition, calling on our party to exhibit such
+weapons as we had about us.
+
+Next Jim brought out a number of guns. There were three excellent
+repeating rifles, with several hundred rounds of ammunition, and an
+old shot-gun, which proved of no value. Next came Jim’s own pet--a
+beautiful double-barrelled shot-gun. With these were several boxes
+of ammunition. Last came a motley array of “six-shooters,” a part of
+which were serviceable and for which there was a limited amount of
+ammunition. Two hand-axes and a small affair for chopping firewood were
+counted as weapons for close quarters.
+
+The whole lot was delivered into the care of Mrs. Smith, who was
+instructed to load the guns and arrange the ammunition conveniently on
+a table brought from the house.
+
+At odd moments the good woman was assembling quantities of food, so
+that, in case of an attack, prolonged or otherwise, we might have her
+services at the ammunition.
+
+Meanwhile Hank had been sent to the top of the house, which had a
+low, flat roof, where he was keeping close watch with a pair of
+field-glasses. He called to Jim that he believed he had discovered
+McGill in the topmost branches of a tree, a long distance up the
+canyon. It appeared that he was making signals, for we soon discovered
+that he occasionally waved a white handkerchief, and he appeared to be
+trying to draw our attention to something to the south.
+
+Presently Hank reported that McGill was climbing down the tree, and in
+a moment he was running down the road towards the house as fast as his
+long legs would carry him. Jim prepared to open one of the gates.
+
+Just then a shot rang out, followed by others. We could hear McGill
+coming full tilt. Jim opened the gate a little way and reported that a
+band of Indians were in close pursuit of the Scotsman.
+
+A moment later, breathless and exhausted, McGill flung himself through
+the open gate, which was speedily secured behind him.
+
+As quickly as possible Jim ran a rough wagon out of a shed and placed
+it alongside of the wall. It was evident now why this latter had been
+built high and strong; the reason for placing the wagon beside it,
+however, was not yet evident to us.
+
+Soon we heard the rush of a score of Indian horses, the whoops and
+yells of their savage riders, and the crack of their rifles.
+
+Their shots did no damage, however, but were sufficiently accurate to
+cause Hank to dodge behind the stone chimney, whence he dropped over
+the edge to the ground.
+
+There was a savage onslaught upon the immense heavy gates, but they
+held firm, being well braced by the timbers. So far not a sound had
+escaped us, and it was evident that the Indians were chagrined that
+they had not made a greater impression.
+
+For a few moments we could hear them in consultation before the gates,
+and presently a voice called out in broken English.
+
+To this no reply was made, nor was any evidence of life vouchsafed from
+our side.
+
+“Now, boys,” whispered Jim, “get ready. They’re going to show their
+heads in a minute--just over there, near the wagon. That is the easiest
+place for them to look over, and I have tried to make it look more
+inviting. So look alive and each pick his game. Don’t miss, or there’ll
+be trouble.”
+
+Next moment five ugly Apache heads bobbed up over the wall
+simultaneously. They were evidently so sure that the place was
+unprotected that four of them, in their enthusiasm, clambered half-way
+on top of the wall before they became aware of the reception that had
+been planned for them.
+
+The volley that followed their appearance was almost like one shot,
+and the four most daring red-skins received the bullets intended for
+them. Two were killed instantly, and partly hung over the wall as they
+doubled up; two others, mortally wounded, slid off the wall and were
+dragged away by their companions. The less venturesome got away with a
+whole skin.
+
+With our volley pandemonium seemed to break loose; the red-skins let
+out a yell that fairly chilled us to the bone. Jim called us to seek
+shelter at the rear of the house.
+
+We were none too soon, for a terrific fire was poured into the
+enclosure by the Indians, who were taking haphazard shots towards us,
+without putting their heads into jeopardy.
+
+[Illustration: “THE VOLLEY FOLLOWING THEIR APPEARANCE WAS ALMOST LIKE
+ONE SHOT.”]
+
+Presently we discovered that one lot of the savages were trying to
+burrow under the gates, and were indeed making some headway. Jim seemed
+to be everywhere at once, using his shot-gun as his sole means of
+defence. The moment a hand was seen in the growing excavation under
+the gate he let drive with his shot-gun, and another Indian was out of
+commission.
+
+I remember I kept a sort of mental tally of the fallen. Hank had told
+me that there were about twenty-three in the band, so I calculated:
+“Four dead on the first attack on the wall; one shot through the hand,
+under the gate. Balance to their credit--eighteen.”
+
+Just then we received an unexpected shock. We saw a curl of smoke
+rising above the gates; the savages were piling brush against them, to
+which they had already set fire. This was a serious matter, which even
+Jim had not calculated upon. He ordered us to lie low while he took a
+look round.
+
+I was so interested to know what he would do that I could not resist
+the temptation to put my head around the corner of the house, and this
+is what I saw.
+
+Jim crept on hands and knees towards the wagon which we had placed
+against the wall. In a moment he had reached it, shot-gun in hand, and
+silently and slowly raised himself into it, gradually straightening out
+with his head and arms just above the wall. Then, quick as a flash, he
+took aim. There was a crash--or rather a double crash, for he had fired
+both barrels--an awful yell from the Indians, and he was speeding back
+to safety.
+
+[Illustration: “I FELT MYSELF BEING DRAGGED OVER.”]
+
+One savage, braver than the rest, took a quick shot at him. The bullet
+did no harm to Jim, but came near being fatal to me, for I had been
+so intent on watching him that I now found that I had unconsciously
+stepped into the open.
+
+Instead of bolting for shelter, I had but one thing in mind--to check
+up the account and see how many “good” Indians there were and how many
+bad ones.
+
+Consequently, in a moment--foolhardy as it may seem--I was on the
+wagon, peering over the wall, taking account of the dead and wounded at
+the gates.
+
+Although Jim’s shot-gun had done fearful execution, there were but two
+who appeared to be actually dead.
+
+Just then something struck me in the face, a hand grasped me from
+over the wall, and I felt myself being dragged over, into the arms of
+the “Apache Kid” himself! Several other savages were running to his
+assistance. All that I can recall is that I thought my last hour had
+come, and struck out blindly with my fists, clinging, as best I could,
+to the wall with my legs.
+
+I am not an experienced boxer, but I had the advantage over my
+assailant, for I was uppermost.
+
+Things seemed to be going badly with me, however, for I felt my hold on
+the wall gradually weakening.
+
+Just at that instant I heard a rush behind me. I was so done up that I
+could only think of more Indians, but in reality it was Levy, Hank, and
+Jim coming to the rescue.
+
+I was grasped from behind and felt that I should be pulled to pieces.
+I let out with my fists with renewed vigour, and landed such a fierce
+tattoo on the face of my captor that he involuntarily sought to protect
+his face with his hands, whereupon Levy, Hank, Jim, and I fell into a
+confused heap over the side of the wagon.
+
+It was a few minutes before they restored me to my senses, and I found
+myself with clothing half torn off, covered with dust, and generally
+bruised.
+
+My first words were:--
+
+“Two killed, three wounded badly; net balance thirteen. That number is
+unlucky. We’ll win!”
+
+“What in the name of common sense are you talking about?” asked Bates,
+who was bending over me.
+
+“Well, there were twenty-three Indians when we started; we killed four
+at first shot, three at the second, and two at the third, besides
+wounding three beyond present help. That leaves thirteen, doesn’t it?”
+
+We were recalled to a sense of our peril by the sound of breaking
+timbers. The gates were being forced!
+
+Through the chinks we could see the Indians working industriously with
+a battering-ram, improvised from the trunk of a tree. At any moment the
+gates might fall, and we knew there would be little hope for us once
+the red-skins gained an entrance.
+
+Jim now sent his wife inside the house for better protection. The
+little babe had, up to this time, been peacefully sleeping on the
+bed, which must now be used to barricade the door of the house.
+Consequently, the little fellow was disturbed as his mother moved the
+huge affair against the opening, and he, too, added to the din of the
+engagement.
+
+“Now, gentlemen,” said Jim, “we’ve got to make a last stand. The gates
+will be down in a minute; they have been greatly weakened by the fire.
+Every one of you to the roof!”
+
+Up to the roof we climbed as a last resort. I think we all realized the
+gravity of the situation.
+
+We stretched ourselves flat, weapons in hand, and waited. It seemed
+ages. We could hear the cries of the infant mingled with the sobs of
+the distracted mother. Bates, who had an abominable voice, tried to
+sing a hymn. Smith told him to be quiet--the situation was trying
+enough without his music.
+
+Presently there came a crash--the gates were down. In rushed the
+red-skins, a fearless crowd. There were just thirteen; I counted them.
+
+“Now, gentlemen, let ’em have it,” called Jim, in a low tone.
+
+Well, we did let them have it; there was no mistake about that. There
+was a blaze from the rifles, Jim’s shot-gun, and the revolvers, and we
+all pumped lead as fast as we could.
+
+When the smoke cleared a little we looked below. There were eight
+red-skins as dead as ever they could be. Three more were crawling away
+on all fours, seriously wounded.
+
+This left two on my record unaccounted for. We soon spied them making
+off over the little hills towards Brick Dust Canyon as fast as their
+legs could carry them.
+
+One of them was “Apache Kid,” the leader. He got off with a whole skin,
+but I’ll wager that he had some marks about his face.
+
+When we got down from the roof we could no longer hear Mrs. Smith or
+the babe, and feared they had been killed by stray bullets. Repeated
+calls failed to bring response.
+
+When we forced an entrance we found her in a dead faint, lying on the
+bed beside the infant, who was chewing his fist and chuckling as if in
+great glee.
+
+Woman-like, Mrs. Smith deferred her swoon till all danger was past.
+
+To the delight of McGill, his miserable briar was recovered that day by
+Jim, who said he did not want the well spoiled, otherwise he would have
+left it there.
+
+“Shot-gun Jim”--for that is how he is always known now, on account of
+his fearful execution with his shot-gun, for it was he who really saved
+the day--has never been troubled by Apaches since. He still insists
+on living in that forsaken spot, forgetful of the terrible scenes of
+carnage and danger he has passed through, working at a copper mine
+which he discovered up beyond Brick Dust Canyon.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: A Perilous Mission.]
+
+BY S. F. MARTIN, LATE OF THE ROYAL NIGER COMPANY’S SERVICE.
+
+    The modestly-told story of a daring deed. At a time of
+    great anxiety, when England and France were on the verge of
+    conflict in Africa and the powerful Mohammedan native States
+    were watching for an opportunity of throwing off the yoke of
+    both countries, Mr. Martin was District Agent of the Royal
+    Niger Company at Borgu. He was instructed to secure reliable
+    information as to what was happening in the turbulent robber
+    kingdom of Kontogora, and he obtained it by the hazardous
+    expedient of disguising himself as a Haussa and, taking his
+    life in his hands, penetrating right into the enemy’s capital.
+    His adventures during this journey are set forth below, though
+    the narrative contains barely a hint of the strain of the
+    ordeal or the awful fate that would have befallen the author
+    had his real identity been suspected.
+
+
+Towards the latter end of 1898, before the conquest of Nigeria, I was
+placed in charge of the interests of the Royal Niger Company, Chartered
+and Limited, in the Borgu district of the Niger Territories. My
+instructions, amongst other things, were to watch events, political and
+otherwise, and to report the same to head-quarters.
+
+It was a time of great stress and no little peril to our West African
+Empire, for not only were the various races of the Territories in a
+state of unrest and hostility to the white man’s domination, but at
+that period we were also at loggerheads with the French, whose troops
+were encroaching on our frontiers from all sides, necessitating a
+special field force being formed, under Colonel (later General Sir
+Frederick) Lugard, to deal with the situation. The native Mohammedan
+States, seeing this, thought to take advantage of the crisis to the
+detriment of both nations.
+
+The most turbulent of all these native States was Kontogora, a town
+lying to the eastward of the Niger River. At the time of which I write
+there were British troops at Jebba, Leabba, Boussa, Roffia, Gomba,
+Lafagon, and Illa, as well as smaller garrisons scattered about, all on
+the Niger. There was a strong force also at Zaria, a large town away to
+the east, some distance south of Kano. The French were prowling about
+in between.
+
+It being reported that Kontogora was preparing to take up arms, I
+determined to find out the facts of the case for myself, as, if this
+State seriously intended causing trouble and gained any successes
+against us, the whole Mohammedan Empire was sure to rise to a man,
+and it would be difficult for us to hold our own, to say nothing of
+expelling the French. My orders were to remain in Boussa, but, having
+weighed the pros and cons very carefully, and decided that it would be
+well within the spirit, if not exactly the letter, of my instructions
+to take the action I intended, I determined to find out in person how
+far this rumour was true and how great the danger really was to our
+Imperial interests. I had mastered the Haussa tongue, the prevailing
+language of those regions, and could hold my own easily with the
+Haussas themselves, my natural aptitude for picking up tongues standing
+me in good stead. Consequently, without informing anyone where I was
+going, beyond leaving word that I was off on a shooting trip, on the
+night of the 17th of November, 1898, I dyed myself from head to foot
+a deep brown, arrayed myself in very shabby Haussa clothes, and set
+off, with my guide, Mama, for Kontogora. I took the name of “Abdu
+Maidowda”--Abdu the dirty. All carriers in Haussaland take nicknames,
+given them by their masters or companions. It is seldom that a white
+man ever knows the real names of his servants.
+
+We tramped all that night, and next morning stopped at a small village
+in the midst of farmlands in the N’gaski Kingdom. The whole country
+hereabouts was bitterly hostile to the white man’s _régime_. The state
+of unrest was manifest everywhere; people went armed to their work in
+the fields, as raids from neighbouring towns seemed to be of frequent
+occurrence. Although the various native kingdoms were quite at one with
+regard to their hatred of the white man, yet amongst themselves they
+were always warring and raiding for slaves--the big towns bullying the
+smaller villages. The main cause of this was the heavy slave tribute
+levied by the Sultan of Sokoto--the great head of the Moslem Church in
+the Sudan--on all his vassal States.
+
+Having rested for a few hours, we set out again about midday. It
+was fiercely hot as we trudged through the guinea-corn fields that
+stretched for miles all around us, and the heat, striking down from
+the fiery sun, that hung directly overhead, made me dizzy. I staggered
+along at times in a kind of hot, sweltering day-dream--seeing things
+that did not exist, and thinking the most absurd thoughts. Once I
+called a halt at a well of very dirty water, flung myself down on my
+hands and knees, and bathed my head and neck for several minutes, Mama
+looking on amused. The people in the fields were gathering in the corn
+in feverish haste, but every now and then they paused long enough to
+question us as to our destination and whence we came. We invariably
+told the same tale--we were travelling to Kontogora from Illorin.
+
+[Illustration: THE AUTHOR, MR. S. F. MARTIN, IN HAUSSA DRESS.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+It must have been about 4 p.m., judging by the sun, when, on that
+second day out, we topped a rise of rocky ground and came face to
+face with the head of a caravan of some thirty people, with a large
+number of goats, coming from the westward. There were several women
+on donkeys, ten armed men on horseback, and the balance consisted of
+carriers. As we stood watching them the caravan halted and one of the
+horsemen came prancing up to us with a great flourishing of his spear.
+He asked us, very roughly, whence we came and whither we were bound.
+Mama answered that we were from Illorin, whither we had taken loads for
+a rich merchant from Kano, and were now bound for Kontogora, where we
+hoped to obtain work, as we understood that the Emir was preparing for
+war on the white man. He then asked our questioner if we might not join
+his caravan, and if he would let us carry a load each in return for our
+food. At this we were taken before the head of the party, who proved
+to be an enormously fat woman. With a wave of the hand she gave her
+consent, and we were forthwith enlisted in the line of coolies.
+
+We pushed on that afternoon to some farmhouses, where we halted for
+the night. The fat lady took up her abode in the headman’s hut, and
+we carriers wandered about to find quarters for ourselves. For the
+most part we slept in the open, beneath a great tree growing outside
+the entrance to the headman’s compound. Mama and I had no intention
+of losing sight of our companions, as we did not wish to let slip
+this excellent chance of getting in to Kontogora, which was also the
+destination of the caravan, without danger of possible discovery.
+The farm people were good enough to give us food and drink, and also
+supplied us with plenty of firewood.
+
+After sitting around the fire for a short time, we coolies one by one
+curled up on our mats (each carried a small grass mat) and, with our
+feet to the fire, slept the dreamless sleep of the utterly weary.
+
+Next morning I was awakened by Mama shaking me by the shoulder. My
+clothes were wet with dew, and I commenced to shiver with cold, cursing
+myself in my sleepy condition for being so foolish as to put myself in
+such a perilous predicament.
+
+As I arose and stretched myself I beheld silent forms passing to
+and fro, and signs that the world was awakening became increasingly
+evident. Then fires were lit and breakfast cooked; but not before we
+had washed our eyes, mouth, and hands, uttering a few words from the
+Koran the while. After partaking of boiled guinea-corn and soup, we
+espied the fat lady preparing to mount her donkey, and, securing our
+loads, took our place in the column that began to form up. Soon we were
+once again trudging through the open country on our way to Kontogora.
+
+[Illustration: “ONE OF THE HORSEMEN CAME PRANCING UP TO US WITH A GREAT
+FLOURISHING OF HIS SPEAR.”]
+
+All along the route I was struck with the apparent haste with which
+the people were gathering in the corn. Our companions told us that the
+Seriki (King) of Kontogora was preparing to wage war on the white man,
+and had ordered his people to get in all their corn at once.
+
+The day before we entered Kontogora we were overtaken by a raiding
+party, who were returning to that place with their spoil--about twenty
+young girls and women, as well as several little children--all tied
+together, each having one wrist made fast to the neck, across the chest.
+
+Their captors were Fulehs and Haussas, on horseback, armed with swords
+and spears, and one or two with guns. Some of the poor captives looked
+terribly emaciated, and could hardly get along. I saw one woman get a
+slash of a hippo hide whip across the face, that sent her reeling to
+the ground, with a great gash on her forehead. The incident stopped
+the whole column for a few minutes, as the woman was fastened to her
+fellow-prisoners by the neck, and, when she fell, prevented them from
+advancing. The whip was then applied freely in all directions. The
+chief of the band ordered the wounded woman’s squirming comrades to
+pick her up and carry her, but they were unable to do so, being too
+utterly worn out, I could see. They were coated in dust from head
+to foot, and the perspiration trickling down their naked skins and
+mingling with the dust made the poor things appear a sorry sight. The
+band had, apparently, captured them at some far-distant spot, and must
+have brought them along at a great pace, judging by the rate they were
+going when they overtook us.
+
+Furious at their inability to pick the woman up, the ruffian in command
+raised his spear and plunged it three times into the body of the
+prostrate woman. He followed this up by actually trampling her under
+his horse’s feet, while I groaned in an agony of horror and impotent
+rage at the ghastly spectacle.
+
+The brute, having satisfied himself that his victim was dead, cut the
+grass rope that bound her to her fellows with a slash of his sword,
+and ordered the party to proceed. They left us at a quick walk--some
+of the poor captives even running in their terror--and were soon out
+of sight over a rise in the ground. Our party followed at a slower
+pace in dead silence, leaving the poor mangled thing by the roadside
+to provide a meal for the vultures and hyenas that would soon be on
+the scene. I for one, however, realized then that no wild beast of the
+desert could compare for utter brutality and lust for blood with the
+human satyrs who overran that land at the time of which I write. For
+miles around, between Kontogora and the Niger, and farther afield to
+the north, south, and east, the smoking ruins of raided villages told
+the ever-repeated tale of death and violence, robbery and rapine, and
+I knew full well what would happen to me should my disguise, by any
+mischance, be penetrated.
+
+About five miles outside Kontogora our caravan was stopped by some
+horsemen who came galloping towards us and drew up across our path.
+They had a long parley with our chiefs before allowing us to proceed,
+and only did so on payment of a toll. These men were scouts, and I
+found out later that the whole country for five miles around the city
+was effectually patrolled, no one being allowed to enter or leave
+without permission. When we finally arrived outside the walls of
+Kontogora it was night, and in the moonlight the scene was beautiful
+and striking. The high castellated ramparts, with watch-towers over the
+gates, looked strange and fantastic in the soft, mysterious light.
+
+As we approached the gate we mingled with the members of another
+caravan. Mama and I were at the tail of the line, about five or six
+from the end. We chose this position to minimize the possibility of
+trouble, although there really seemed little chance of that in such a
+deceptive light. Still, there was just the chance, as we soon found out
+when the head of the caravan reached the gate. Here it was abruptly
+ordered to halt, and the guards held quite a long palaver before it
+was allowed to proceed. At the same time a little incident occurred
+that made my blood run cold for a few minutes. There was a cry of
+“Abokai! Abokai! Kai!” (“Friends! Friends! Halloa, there!”) from the
+gate, and the whole column was soon calling “Aboki! Aboki!” (“Friend!
+Friend!”)--the Haussa manner of hailing anybody. They were shouting,
+it soon appeared, for myself and Mama, and we were speedily hustled
+forward by our companions. When we reached the gate our employer,
+the fat lady merchant who had engaged us, indicated us to the guards
+with a haughty wave of the hand. We could see a crowd of mounted and
+unmounted men in the darkness of the gateway, and one among these, who
+seemed gigantic in the moonlight as he rode forward on a horse equally
+gigantic, curveted up to us. Striking my turban from off my head with
+the tip of his spear, he loudly asked for our names. I answered that we
+were two poor travellers from Illorin, come to offer our services to
+the Emir. He asked us where our belongings were and the money that our
+master had paid us at Illorin. I told him that the white man had met
+us on the road and taken everything, as we were friends of Kontogora.
+At this the captain of the gate gave vent to some extremely sulphurous
+language. Then, with a slight movement of the reins, he caused his
+horse to rear up on his hind legs and, with pawing fore-feet, to burst
+furiously through the crowd of coolies round about us, trampling one
+or two badly. Finally, the caravan was allowed to move on under the
+gate into the town. As we entered, the _mallams_ (priests) were calling
+to prayer, and the long-drawn cry, like an appeal for mercy, floated
+through the night, striking on the air with that strange, indefinable
+sense of mysticism that belongs to the East alone.
+
+We wound in and out, out and in, through the moonlit streets with their
+black shadows, their mud walls, and conical, thatch-roofed houses. Then
+we emerged into the market-place, near which our employer resided.
+Entering her compound, we put down our loads, and, seating ourselves,
+awaited our wages. Mama and I were the first to be paid. We were handed
+one string apiece of cowrie shells--equivalent to one shilling each,
+at that time and place. We haggled over this like true-born carriers
+for fully half an hour, and, as the fat lady’s head slave refused to
+budge, accepted what we got with a blessing--and promptly received
+another five hundred cowries for our good nature. The Haussa will often
+do this, for, as much as he fears a curse, by so much does he value
+a blessing. A great many rogues take advantage of this trait in the
+native character.
+
+Having been paid off, Mama and I left the compound rejoicing. Here we
+were, in the very heart of Kontogora--scatheless! We wandered into the
+market-place, where some people were still loitering, and decided to
+sleep in one of the stalls and begin our investigations in the morning.
+
+It was many hours before I got to sleep, as my feet ached fearfully and
+were badly torn and blistered. During the march I had alternately gone
+barefoot and in sandals to rest them, and at times I got badly knocked
+about when carrying the leathers in my hand. Several times during the
+night bands of young Haussas passed through the market-place, shouting
+and laughing, boasting what they were going to do to the Turawa (white
+man).
+
+Four batches of labourers passed through also, between the time we
+retired and dawn, dragging dead horses out of the town. Tom-toms
+were going all the night; at times the whole air quivered with the
+rhythmical sounds. The quaint tinkling of the Haussa guitar rose
+and fell at intervals, and from time to time the weird notes of the
+“ghoghie,” or native fiddle, could be heard from the compounds. A
+spirit of excitement and revel seemed to pervade the whole town.
+
+Next morning we loitered about until the market began to fill, when we
+bought some food. We then repaired to the Galadima’s residence, and
+enlisted in the army of labourers that were employed in repairing the
+walls of the town. Many of these labourers were slaves, sent by the
+various chiefs and big men; others belonged to the Emir himself. About
+four hundred of us were dispatched to the north wall. Here some made
+bricks out of the soft clay; others, including myself, stood on the
+wall and laid them, and yet others passed those already dried up to us
+on the wall.
+
+While working in this way I gathered a lot of information. Raiding
+parties had been out all the week, I learned, and spies and runners
+from Zaria brought in news every day concerning the movements of the
+white men in that city. Bands of armed men were continually bringing
+in slaves from the ruined villages in the surrounding country. It was
+said that N’gaski and Kontogora would join forces, attack the whites in
+Zaria, and drive them out. Dandugnsu and Ridjion, neighbouring towns,
+had promised their support in the campaign. I also learnt that orders
+had come in from the Sultan of Sokoto that the Emir was not to commence
+a war against the white man, but to remain on the defensive. The Emir
+of Kontogora had replied that he was quite prepared to meet all comers,
+from whatever direction--a pretty broad hint to Sokoto, I thought.
+One fellow laying bricks told Mama that the man who killed Lieutenant
+Thomson at Bida, in the late Niger Sudan campaign undertaken by the
+Chartered Company against the Fulehs of Bida and Illorin, was now in
+the town and was considered a very great hero.
+
+About midday an order came for some twenty men to repair to the Emir’s
+compound. I was chosen as one of the gang, together with Mama. So
+off we marched. When we arrived we found that a horse and a cow had
+died, and were to be dragged out of the town and thrown into the moat
+under the walls. Tying up the hind legs with grass rope, we hauled the
+carcasses through the streets and out by one of the gates and dumped
+them into the ditch. Having finished our unpleasant task, we trudged
+back to the north wall and recommenced laying bricks.
+
+One swaggering youngster had annoyed me very much all the morning. He
+was an overseer amongst the men, and apparently one of the wealthy
+young bloods of the town. Shortly after my return from removing the
+dead horse this youth strutted up to me and started cursing me roundly
+in Haussa, saying that I was more like a woman than a man and that
+my work was no good. Finally, raising his hand, he struck me in the
+mouth. Forgetting myself completely for the moment, I stepped up to the
+fellow, who promptly drew his sword. Without any trouble I disarmed
+him; then, catching him by the neck, I shook him like a rat and dropped
+him into the ditch on the far side of the wall.
+
+For a moment there was dead silence; next a chorus of applause and
+laughter broke out. But Mama plucked me by the sleeve. “Go,” he said,
+in a low tone; “I will meet you to-night, an hour after sundown, at the
+place we slept in last night.”
+
+[Illustration: “I SHOOK HIM LIKE A RAT AND DROPPED HIM INTO THE DITCH.”]
+
+Divining my danger, I slipped away and mingled with the crowd, nobody
+venturing to interfere. I passed down some side streets that zigzagged
+about confusingly, wandered in the outskirts of the town for an hour or
+more, and then made my way to the market-place, which I found swarming
+with people.
+
+Buying some boiled guinea-corn, I sat down outside a stall and munched
+my lunch. The woman who sold me the food was a garrulous old person,
+but perfectly good-natured. She asked me all about myself, and I
+told her that I had come from Zaria, where I had fled through fear
+of the white men. She informed me that I had nothing to fear from
+them; were it not for their guns they would be quite harmless. Then
+I asked her when it was that Kontogora intended setting out to drive
+the Turawa from Zaria. “Go round the blacksmiths’ shops and inquire at
+the smithies,” was all the answer I could get. I thought the idea a
+good one, and, bidding my new friend “Good day,” I sauntered through
+the crowded market-place, stopping at various booths. In one of these
+some blacksmiths were hard at work, making arrow and spear heads from
+bits of iron and tin. As I stood looking at them I gathered, from
+the conversation that was going on around, that some of the Emir’s
+sons were expected to arrive in Kontogora that day, and that they were
+bringing some of the white men’s guns with them that were taken at
+Hella, when Lieutenant Keating’s party was massacred. Here was a bit
+of news worth having! The conversation turning on matters that did not
+interest me, I strolled on until I arrived at the head blacksmith’s
+shop, near the Emir’s compound, where I watched the hammers pounding
+the red-hot metal. I could see that the whole town was busy making
+arms, which boded ill for the whites.
+
+Suddenly I heard a shout of “Gashi! Gashi!” (“There he is! There
+he is!”). Then there was a rush of feet, and a flash of swords in
+upraised arms. Evidently my pursuers had found me out. I backed
+into the blacksmith’s shop, followed by a yelling crowd, and caught
+a momentary glimpse of my tormentor of the morning. Then, without
+warning, something was thrown over my head, and I was dragged violently
+backwards, flung to the ground, and stunned by a succession of heavy
+blows.
+
+When I came to my senses I found myself being hauled unceremoniously to
+my feet, my arms bound firmly. In this ignominious state I was dragged
+amid curses and cuffs through the town, a yelling crowd of bloodthirsty
+ruffians surrounding me. They hauled me through a doorway into a
+compound surrounded with high walls, on into a big building, through
+many rooms and passages, and ultimately down some rough steps into
+a filthy, stinking dungeon, reeking of mould and damp. Here, with a
+violent push, I was flung headlong to the bottom, where I lay helpless
+in absolute darkness.
+
+The air was damp and chill, and the place was infested with all manner
+of loathsome crawling things; I could hear them tick-ticking and
+scuffling along the floor and walls. Shortly after my entry some filthy
+thing touched my fingers, and I shook it off with a yell. It was a
+dread place, and drove all hope of saving my life clean out of me.
+
+How long I lay there I do not know; it was long enough, at any rate,
+for a sharp attack of fever to seize me and run its course. It racked
+my bones; I tossed and turned on the slimy floor, groaning aloud
+in my discomfort. The hot fever-blood throbbed in my head; my eyes
+and face burned, and my body became parched and dry. I moaned for
+water--oh, for one drop of cool water! At one time I thought I saw
+the door open and Mama enter and loose my bonds, but it was only a
+vision of my disordered brain. Finally I sank into unconsciousness. I
+awoke--drenched in a profuse perspiration--with men’s voices sounding
+round about me. A figure was standing over me holding a lamp--an
+earthenware, ewer-shaped vessel with a cotton dip--which gave a
+wavering yellow radiance and cast grim dancing shadows on the walls. I
+could see that the door was ajar, and a pale light was stealing into
+the horrible place from outside. Roughly I was dragged to my feet. I
+staggered a bit, but soon steadied myself, and--pushed, cursed, and
+beaten--I accompanied my captors up the steps and out into the light of
+day again, or, rather, of evening. One glorious breath of the upper air
+repaid me for all that I had suffered in that black hole of Kontogora.
+I did not care now if they were leading me out to kill me; I was not
+going to die like a rat in that horrible pit.
+
+As we emerged from the compound we were joined by a chattering,
+mocking, hostile crowd of men, women, and children. Every now and then
+one of the latter would strike me with a stick, my guards making no
+effort to protect me. At last we entered the Emir’s compound and I was
+taken into his presence. He was seated on a dais covered with mats and
+a leopard skin, and was talking in a low monotone to some men lying
+round about him on the floor of the chamber.
+
+The young blood that I had flung over the wall, and who was the cause
+of all my troubles, stepped out and told the King what I had done,
+asking leave to kill me then and there. Next, to my astonishment, Mama
+stepped out of the crowd and told the Emir plainly that he and I had
+come all the way from Illorin to serve him, and had intended craving
+his permission that morning had not my tormentor interfered and sought
+a quarrel with me, in which he had got thrown over the wall for his
+pains. Subsequently, through treachery, continued my faithful guide,
+my enemy had had me taken and flung into prison without the Emir’s
+knowledge.
+
+The Emir, who seemed a decent sort of old man, listened patiently
+to his two petitioners. Then, advising my enemy to calm himself, he
+told one of his retainers to question me. I thanked Heaven that the
+simpleness of my disguise and my grip of the Haussa tongue precluded
+any very great possibility of detection. The Emir, before my questioner
+started, informed the assembled crowd that, were I proved to be a rebel
+and a traitor, he would hand me over to my enemy to do what he wished
+with.
+
+My inquisitor was a type of the grovelling bully. He tried to put
+one or two posers to me, but got more than he expected in return;
+and I actually got a smile out of the Emir, which elicited the loud
+and flattering applause of the retainers, when I suggested that my
+questioner was behaving very like a traitor himself in trying to cast
+a slur on the character of one of the Emir’s most faithful subjects.
+I told that monarch that I had come all the way from Illorin to serve
+him, and this was the way I was being treated--dragged, beaten and
+bleeding, before him from a dungeon, and bound like a common slave.
+Suddenly the Emir asked me how many white men there were in Borgu;
+I told him about one hundred thousand, and more to come. He seemed
+greatly impressed, as well he might be. I then craved permission to
+enter his service, and he inquired if I could ride. I told him to try
+me. This he agreed to do. If I could ride and prove myself worthy of
+entering his service he said he would pardon my imprudence of yesterday
+and make me a member of his bodyguard.
+
+My bonds were cut, and as these fell from me the pain of the blood
+returning to my swollen, half-numbed hands was excruciating. I managed,
+however, to keep a brave face. We retired from the Emir’s presence
+and waited outside under a great shady tree, where, eventually, a
+fiercely-pawing stallion was brought up, and I was ordered to mount.
+This I did, the brute biting, kicking, and plunging all the time. I
+had to get into one of those horrible native saddles that box you
+up completely, fore and aft. Once mounted, I let the horse do as he
+pleased, and he led me a terrible dance, rearing and plunging about,
+dashing first to one side and then another. As he was in the midst
+of his attempts to buck me off, the Emir appeared and stood watching
+the tussle with interest. As a matter of fact, the horse had not much
+chance when once I was on his back, for I had had a great deal of
+experience of the Haussa beast, and knew his ways. He soon grew tired,
+and within half an hour was quite submissive. I used no stick, but just
+sat quietly in the saddle. To my surprise and delight the Emir told
+me that the horse was mine, and that I was to come to see him on the
+morrow, about noon. I thanked him gratefully and rode off, Mama walking
+by my stirrup.
+
+After a consultation we agreed that it would be dangerous to remain
+in the town any longer, as our enemies were bound to try to get the
+better of us, sooner or later. We therefore arranged that Mama should
+leave the town at once, and make for Boussa as best he could, on foot;
+I would leave that night. We then parted, and I was left alone in the
+midst of the enemy.
+
+At sundown I rode through the south gate, but was immediately stopped
+by the guard. I told them that I came by order of the Emir, but they
+demanded proof. This was distinctly awkward, for, of course, I had no
+proof to give. I therefore resolved upon a bold stroke. I requested
+the chief to ride with me, telling him I would give him in confidence
+all the proof he would require. Unsuspectingly he rode up alongside.
+Leaning over towards him, I suddenly gripped him by the throat with
+both hands, at the same time ramming my heels into my horse’s sides.
+The startled animal leapt forward, wrenching my opponent from the
+saddle with a jerk, and I swung him across my horse’s withers, where I
+held him--my right hand on his throat, my left gripping his left knee,
+bending him backwards like a bow. In this fashion we flew along the
+path by which two days before I had entered the robber city on foot.
+
+A howl of execration and a clatter of hoofs followed us, and a shower
+of arrows and spears fell harmlessly on either side of me. When we had
+gone about a quarter of a mile I slid my hapless prisoner off on to his
+head, intending to stun him. My horse, feeling the relief, went away at
+renewed speed, and I had no difficulty in outdistancing my pursuers,
+especially as they stopped to see to their unconscious chief. I met one
+party of traders coming into the town, but they stood aside to let me
+thunder past, not doubting that I was an emissary of the Emir on some
+urgent business. The moon was just rising as I topped a low ridge, and
+all the world was soon bathed in a soft and silvery veil of light.
+Kontogora was far behind in the plain, the thousand conical roofs away
+in the distance looking strangely unreal.
+
+As I drew near the five mile radius I began to wonder how I was going
+to get through the line of scouts. Capture now would mean death in
+some horrible form or other; at all costs I must not be taken alive.
+Suddenly I heard a shout far away on my right, and in the dim light
+saw a body of horsemen coming my way. Touching my mount with my
+heels I again gave him his head, and he flew like the wind, with
+ever-increasing speed. The pace was terrific and absolutely foolhardy
+in that light, although the road was fairly good. I expected every
+moment to be pitched head foremost to the ground, but the surefooted
+beast kept on without a stumble. The shouts and thunder of hoofs behind
+grew fainter and fainter, until at last, to my infinite relief, they
+entirely died away. Still, however, I kept on. Here and there, when
+the road passed through a village or beside a farm, frightened figures
+would slink away into the shadows and a startled cur would burst into
+a violent fit of barking, as I clattered by on my panting steed, now
+reeking and white with sweat.
+
+[Illustration: “IN THIS FASHION WE FLEW ALONG THE PATH.”]
+
+I rode fast all through the night, my horse showing splendid spirit
+and pluck, and at sunrise halted on the banks of a river. Leaving my
+hard-ridden beast to cool a little first, I then watered him and,
+cutting some guinea-corn stalks from a patch near by, gave him a good
+feed, munching some myself at the same time and quenching my thirst at
+the river. Then, after about two hours’ rest, I proceeded, but at a
+lesser speed.
+
+I rode all that day and well into the night, finally resting by the
+pool where I had cooled my heated brow on the way to Kontogora. After
+some hours’ halt I pushed on again, obtaining food at farmhouses
+on the way, and next evening, utterly weary, arrived at the Niger
+opposite Boussa. My journey was over; I was safe at last! Arriving at
+my quarters in the Niger Company’s compound, I flung myself down on my
+camp bed just as I was and slept for sixteen hours.
+
+The faithful Mama turned up four days later. He went to Yauri, a
+friendly State, coming down river by canoe. For his services I
+presented him with the Emir of Kontogora’s horse.
+
+During all the years that have gone by since my secret trip to
+Kontogora and my subsequent escape I have never regretted having run
+the double risk of disobeying orders on the one hand and risking my
+life on the other. I had been instructed to get news and I got it--not
+the idle tales of paid spies, but a record of sights seen and things
+heard with my own eyes and ears.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+_A Voyage on an Ice-Floe._
+
+BY DR. WILFRED T. GRENFELL, C.M.G.
+
+
+    Dr. Grenfell may be described as the “Good Angel of Labrador,”
+    having for years devoted himself to ministering to the hardy
+    toilers who live in that grim land of snow, ice, and fog. In
+    this enthralling story he describes how, while on an errand of
+    mercy, he and his dog-team got adrift in the open sea on a tiny
+    cake of ice; how he killed three of the dogs to provide himself
+    with warm clothing; how he made a flagstaff out of their bones;
+    and how he was finally rescued when hope was well-nigh dead.
+
+
+It was Easter Sunday, but still winter with us, and everything was
+covered with snow and ice. Immediately after morning service word
+came from our hospital to say that messengers with a large team of
+dogs had come from sixty miles to the southward to get a doctor for a
+very urgent case--that of a young man on whom we had operated about a
+fortnight before for an acute bone disease in the thigh.
+
+[Illustration: THE AUTHOR, DR. WILFRED T. GRENFELL, C.M.G.
+
+_From a Photo. by De Youngs, New York._]
+
+There was obviously no time to be lost, so, having packed up the
+necessary instruments, dressings, and drugs, and fitted out the sleigh
+with my best dogs, I left at once, the messengers following me with
+their own team.
+
+Late in April there is always a risk of getting wet through on the ice,
+so that I was prepared with a spare outfit, which included, besides a
+change of garments, snow-shoes, rifle, compass, an axe, and oilskin
+over clothes.
+
+My dogs, being a powerful team, would not be held back, and though I
+managed to wait twice for the other sleigh I had reached a village
+about twenty miles on the journey before nightfall, had fed the dogs,
+and was gathering one or two people for prayers, when they caught me up.
+
+During the night the wind shifted to the north-east. This brought in
+fog and rain, softened the snow, and made travelling very bad, besides
+sending a heavy sea into the bay. Our drive next morning would be
+somewhat over forty miles--the first ten miles across a wide arm of the
+sea, on salt-water ice.
+
+In order not to be separated too long from my friends, I sent them
+ahead two hours before me, appointing a rendezvous at a log shanty we
+had built in the woods for a half-way house. There is no one living
+along all that lengthy coast-line, and so, in case of accident, we keep
+dry clothes, food, and drugs at the hut.
+
+The first rain of the year was falling when I left, and I was obliged
+to keep on what we call the “ballicaters,” or ice barricades, much
+farther up the bay than I had expected. The sea of the night before had
+smashed up the ponderous covering of ice right to the land-wash, and
+great gaping chasms between the enormous blocks, which we call “pans,”
+made it impossible to get off. As soon as I topped the first hill
+outside the village I could see that half a mile out it was all clear
+water.
+
+An island which lies off about three miles in the bay had preserved a
+bridge of ice, however, and by crossing a few cracks I managed to reach
+this island. The arm of the bay beyond this point is only about four
+miles straight across. This would bring me to a rocky promontory and
+would save some miles on the round. As far as the eye could see the ice
+seemed good, though it was very rough. Obviously it had been smashed up
+by the sea, and packed in again by the strong wind from the north-east,
+but I judged it had frozen solid together again.
+
+I set off to cross this stretch, and all went well till I was about a
+quarter of a mile from the landing-point. Then the wind suddenly fell,
+and I noticed I was travelling over loose “sish” ice, almost of the
+consistency of porridge; by stabbing down, I could drive my whip-handle
+clean through it. This “sish” ice consists of the tiny fragments made
+by large pans pounding together on the heaving sea.
+
+So strongly did the breeze now come off-shore, and so quickly did
+the packed mass, relieved of the wind pressure, begin to scatter,
+that already I could not see one floe larger than ten feet square. I
+realized at once that retreat was absolutely impossible; the only thing
+to be done was to make a dash for it and try to reach the shore.
+
+There was not a moment to lose, so I tore off my oilskins, threw myself
+out on my hands and knees by the side of the _komatik_ to give a larger
+base to hold, and shouted to the dogs to go ahead.
+
+Before we had gone twenty yards, the animals, divining their peril,
+hesitated for a moment, and the _komatik_ instantly sank into the
+slush. It then became necessary for the dogs to pull, and they promptly
+began to sink in also. Earlier in the season the father of the very man
+I was going to operate on had been drowned by his dogs tangling their
+traces around him in the “slob.” This unpleasant fact now flashed into
+my mind, and I managed to loosen my sheath-knife, scramble forward,
+find the traces in the water, and cut them, meanwhile taking a turn
+with the leader’s trace around my wrist.
+
+There was a pan of ice some twenty-five yards away, about the size of a
+dining-table, and on to this the leader very shortly climbed. The other
+dogs, however, were hopelessly bogged in the slushy ice and water.
+
+[Illustration: “ONE OF THE DOGS GOT ON TO MY SHOULDERS, PUSHING ME
+FARTHER DOWN IN THE ICE.”]
+
+Gradually I hauled myself along the leader’s line towards the pan,
+till he suddenly turned round and slipped out of his harness. It was
+impossible to make any progress through the “sish” ice by swimming, so
+I lay there helplessly, thinking it would soon be over, and wondering
+if anyone would ever know how the tragedy happened. Suddenly I saw the
+trace of another big dog, who had himself fallen through just before
+he reached the pan. Along this I hauled myself, using the animal as a
+bow anchor, but much bothered by the other dogs, one of which, in his
+struggle for life, got on to my shoulders, pushing me farther down in
+the ice. Presently, however, I passed my living anchor, and soon, with
+my dogs around me, I lay on the little piece of ice. I had to help the
+dogs on to it, though they were able to work their way to me through
+the lane of water that I had made.
+
+We were safe for the moment, yet it was obvious that we must be drowned
+before long if we remained on this little fragment, so, taking off my
+moccasins, coat, gloves, and cap, and everything that I could spare, I
+tied my knife and moccasins separately on to the backs of the dogs. My
+only hope of life seemed to be to get ashore at once. Had I been able
+to divine the long drift before me, I might have saved, in the same way
+as I saved my knife, a small bag of food. The moccasins, made of tanned
+sealskin, came right up to my thigh, and, as they were filled with
+water, I thought they accounted for my being able to make no progress.
+
+Taking the long traces from all the dogs but the two lightest, I gave
+them the full length of the lines, tied the near ends around my own
+wrists, and tried to make the animals go ahead. Nothing would induce
+them to move, however, and though I threw them off the pan two or
+three times, they always struggled back on to it. Fortunately, I had
+with me a small black spaniel, a featherweight, with large furry paws,
+something like snow-shoes, who will retrieve for me. I threw a piece
+of ice for him, and he managed to get over the “slob” after it, on to
+another pan about twenty yards away. The other dogs followed him and
+after much painful struggling all of them got on but one.
+
+Taking all the run I could get on my little pan, I made a rush,
+slithering with the impetus along the surface till once more I sank
+through. After a tough fight I was able to haul myself by the long
+traces on to this new pan. I had taken care this time to tie the
+harnesses, to which I was holding, under the dogs’ bellies, so that
+they could not slip them off. But the pan I was now on was still not
+enough to bear us, and so this exhausting process had to be repeated
+immediately to avoid sinking with it.
+
+I now realized, much to my dismay, that though we had been working
+towards the land we had been losing ground all the time, for the
+off-shore wind had now driven us a hundred yards farther out. The
+widening gap was full of pounded ice, which rose to the surface as the
+pressure lessened. Through this no man could possibly make his way.
+
+I was now resting on a floe about ten feet by twenty, which, when I
+came to examine it, was not ice at all, but simply snow-covered “slob,”
+frozen into a mass, and which I feared would very soon break up in the
+general turmoil and the heavy sea, which was continually increasing as
+the ice drove offshore before the wind.
+
+At first we drifted in the direction of a rocky point on which a heavy
+surf was breaking, and I made up my mind, if there was clear water in
+the surf, to try to swim for the land. But suddenly we struck a rock,
+a large piece broke off the already small pan, and what was left swung
+around in the backwash and went right off to sea. I saw then that my
+pan was about a foot thick.
+
+There was nothing now for it but to hope for rescue. Alas! there was no
+possibility of being seen by human eyes. As I have already mentioned,
+no one lives round this big bay. It was just possible, however, that
+the people on the other _komatik_, knowing I was alone and had failed
+to keep my tryst, would, perhaps, come back to look for me. This,
+however, they did not do.
+
+Meanwhile the westerly wind--our coldest wind at this time of the
+year--was rising rapidly. It was very tantalizing, as I stood there
+with next to nothing on, the wind going through me, and every stitch
+soaked in ice-water, to see my _komatik_ some fifty yards away. It was
+still above water, packed with food, hot tea in a Thermos bottle, dry
+clothing, matches, wood, and everything for making a fire to attract
+attention, if I should drive out far enough for someone to see me--and
+yet it was quite beyond my reach.
+
+It is easy to see a black object on the ice in the day-time, for its
+gorgeous whiteness shows off the least thing. But, alas! the tops of
+bushes and large pieces of kelp have so often deceived those looking
+out that the watcher hesitates a long time before he takes action.
+Moreover, within our memory no man has ever been thus adrift on the bay
+ice. The chances were one in a thousand that I would be seen at all,
+and, even if I were, I should probably be mistaken for a fragment of
+driftwood or kelp.
+
+To keep from freezing I took my long moccasins, strung out some line,
+split the legs, and made a kind of jacket, which preserved my back from
+the wind down as far as the waist.
+
+I had not drifted more than half a mile before I saw my poor _komatik_
+disappear through the ice, which was every minute loosening up into
+small pans. The loss of the sledge seemed like that of a friend, and
+one more tie with home and safety lost.
+
+By midday I had passed the island and was moving out into the
+ever-widening bay. It was scarcely safe to stir on the pan for fear of
+breaking it, and yet I saw I must have the skins of some of my dogs--of
+which there were eight on the pan--if I was to live the night out.
+There was now from three to five miles of ice between me and the north
+side of the bay, so I could plainly see there was no hope of being
+picked up that day, even if seen, for no boat could get out.
+
+Unwinding the sealskin traces from my waist, around which I had them
+coiled to keep the dogs from eating them, I made a slip-knot and passed
+it over the first dog’s head, tied it round my foot close to its neck,
+threw him on his back, and stabbed him to the heart. Poor beast! I
+loved him like a friend, but we could not all hope to live. In fact, at
+that time I had no hope that any of us would, but it seemed better to
+die fighting.
+
+In the same way I sacrificed two more large dogs, receiving a couple of
+bites in the process, though I fully expected that the pan would break
+up in the struggle. A short shrift seemed to me better than a long
+one, and I envied the dead dogs, whose troubles were over so quickly.
+Indeed, I began to debate in my mind whether, if once I passed into
+the open sea, it would not be better by far to use my faithful knife
+on myself than to die by inches. There seemed no horror whatever in
+the thought; I seemed fully to sympathize with the Japanese view of
+_hara-kiri_. Working, however, saved me from dangerous philosophizing.
+By the time I had skinned the dogs and strung the skins together with
+some rope unravelled from the harnesses I was ten miles on my way and
+it was already getting dark.
+
+Away to the northward I could now see a single light in the little
+village where I had slept the night before. One could not help
+picturing them sitting down to tea, little thinking that there was
+anyone watching them, for I had told them not to expect me back for
+four days. I could also see the peaceful little school-house on the
+hill, where many times I had gathered the people for prayer.
+
+[Illustration: THE AUTHOR’S DOG TEAM.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+I had now frayed out some rope into oakum and mixed it with some fat
+from the intestines of my dogs, with the idea of making a flare. But
+I discovered that my match-box, which was always chained to me, had
+leaked, and my precious matches were in pulp. Had I been able to make
+a light, it would have looked so unearthly out there on the ice that I
+felt sure they would have seen me. However, I kept the matches, hoping
+that I might be able to dry them if I lived through the night. While
+working at the dead dogs, about every five minutes I would stand up and
+wave my hands towards the land. I had no flag and I could not spare my
+shirt, for, wet as it was, it was better than nothing in that freezing
+wind, and, anyhow, it was nearly dark.
+
+Unfortunately, the coves in among the cliffs are so placed that only
+for a very narrow space can the people in any house see the sea.
+Indeed, most of them cannot see the sea at all, so that whether it was
+possible for anyone to see me I could not tell, even supposing it had
+been daylight.
+
+Not daring to take any snow from the surface of my pan to break the
+wind with, I piled up the carcasses of the dogs. Moreover, I could now
+sit down on the skin rug without finding myself in a pool of water,
+thawed out by my own heat. During these hours I had continually taken
+off all my things, wrung them out, swung them in the wind, and put on
+first one and then the other inside, hoping that what heat there was
+in my body would thus serve to dry them. In this I had been fairly
+successful.
+
+My feet were the most trouble, for they immediately got wet again on
+account of my thin moccasins being easily soaked through on the snow. I
+suddenly thought of the way in which the Lapps, who tend our reindeer,
+manage to dry socks. They carry grass with them, which they ravel up
+and put into the shoe. Into this they put their feet, and then pack the
+rest with more grass, tying up the top with a binder. The ropes of the
+harness for our dogs are carefully “served” all over with two layers
+of flannel, in order to make them soft against the animal’s sides. So,
+as soon as I could sit down, I started with my trusty knife to rip up
+the flannel. Though my fingers were more or less frozen, I was able to
+ravel out the rope, put it into my shoes, and use my wet socks inside
+my knicker-bockers, where, though damp, they served to break the wind.
+Then, tying the narrow strips of flannel together, I bound up the tops
+of the moccasins, Lapp fashion, and carried the bandage on up over my
+knee, making a ragged though most excellent puttee.
+
+In order to run easily and fast with our dogs in the spring of the
+year, when the weather is usually warm, we wear very light clothing;
+thus we do not perspire at midday and freeze at night. It chanced
+that I had recently opened a box of football garments which I had not
+seen for twenty years. I had found my old Oxford University running
+“shorts,” and a pair of Richmond Football Club stockings of red,
+yellow, and black, exactly as I wore them twenty years ago. These,
+with a flannel shirt and sweater, were all I now had left. Coat, hat,
+gloves, oilskins--everything else--were gone, and I stood there in
+that odd costume exactly as I stood in the old days on a football
+field. These garments, being very light, dried all the quicker until
+afternoon; then nothing would dry any more, everything freezing stiff.
+
+My occupation till what seemed like midnight was unravelling rope, and
+with this I padded out my knickers inside and my shirt as well, though
+it was a clumsy job, for I could not see what I was doing. Now, getting
+my largest dog, as big as a wolf and weighing ninety-two pounds, I made
+him lie down in order that I could cuddle around him. I then piled the
+three skins so that I could lie on one edge, while the other came just
+over my shoulders and head.
+
+My own breath, collecting inside the newly-flayed skin, must have had
+a soporific effect, for I was soon fast asleep. One hand I had plunged
+down inside the curled-up dog, but the other hand, being gloveless, had
+frozen, and I suddenly woke, shivering enough, I thought, to break my
+pan. What I took to be the sun was just rising, but I soon found it was
+the moon, and then I knew it was about half past twelve. The dog was
+having an excellent time; he had not been cuddled up so warmly all the
+winter. He resented my moving with low growls, till he found it wasn’t
+another dog.
+
+The wind was steadily driving me now towards the open sea, where, short
+of a miracle, I could expect nothing but death.
+
+Still I had only this hope--that my pan would probably be opposite
+another village, called Goose Cove, at daylight, and might possibly
+be seen from there. I knew that the _komatiks_ would be starting at
+daybreak over the hills for a parade of Orangemen about twenty miles
+away. I might, therefore, be seen as they climbed the hills, though the
+cove does not open seaward. So I lay down and went to sleep again.
+
+I woke some time later with a sudden thought in my mind that I must
+have a flag to signal with. So I set to work at once in the dark to
+disarticulate the legs of my dead dogs, which were now frozen stiff,
+and seemed to offer the only chance of forming a pole to carry a flag.
+
+Cold as it was, I determined to sacrifice my shirt for that purpose
+with the first streak of daylight. It took a long time in the dark to
+get the legs off, and when I had patiently marled them together with
+old harness rope they formed the heaviest and crookedest flag-post it
+has ever been my lot to see. Still it had the advantage of not being so
+cold to hold, because the skin on the paws made it unnecessary to hold
+the frozen meat with my bare hands.
+
+What had awakened me this time, I found, was that the pan had swung
+around and the shelter made by my dogs’ bodies was on the wrong side,
+for, though there was a very light air, the evaporation it caused
+from my wet clothes made quite a difference. I had had no food since
+six o’clock the morning before, when I had porridge and bread and
+butter. I had, however, a rubber band on instead of one of my garters,
+and I chewed that for twenty-four hours. It saved me from thirst and
+hunger, oddly enough. I did not drink from the ice of my pan, for it
+was salt-water snow and ice. Moreover, in the night the salt water had
+lapped up over the edges, for the pan was on a level with the sea. From
+time to time I heard the cracking and grinding of the newly formed
+“slob,” and it seemed that my little floe must inevitably soon go to
+pieces.
+
+At last the sun really did rise, and the time came for the sacrifice
+of my shirt. I stripped, and, much to my surprise and pleasure, did
+not find it was half so cold as I had anticipated. I now reformed my
+dog-skins, with the raw side out, so that they made a kind of coat,
+quite rivalling Joseph’s. But with the rising of the sun the frost
+came out of the joints of my dogs’ legs, and the friction--caused, I
+suppose, by waving it--made my flag-pole almost tie itself in knots.
+Still, I could raise it three or four feet above my head, which seemed
+very important.
+
+Now, however, I found that, instead of having drifted as far as I had
+reckoned, I was only off some cliffs called Ireland Head, near which
+there is a little village looking seaward, whence I should certainly
+have been seen had the time been summer. But as I had myself, earlier
+in the season, been night-bound at the place, I had learnt there was
+not a single soul living there in the winter. The people had all, as
+usual, migrated to their winter houses up the bay, where they get
+together for schooling and social purposes.
+
+It was impossible to wave so heavy a flag as mine all the time, and
+yet I dared not sit down, for that might be the exact moment someone
+would be in a position to see me from the hills. The only thing in my
+mind was how long I could stand up, and how long go on waving that pole
+at the cliffs. Once or twice I thought I saw men against their snowy
+faces, which I judged were about five or six miles from me. In reality,
+however, all the time I knew in my heart of hearts that the black
+specks were only trees. Once, also, I thought I saw a boat approaching.
+A glittering object kept appearing and disappearing on the water, but
+it was merely a small piece of ice sparkling in the sun as it rose on
+the surface.
+
+Physically I felt as well as ever I did in my life, and with the hope
+of a long sunny day I felt sure I was good to last another twenty-four
+hours if my ice-raft would only hold out. I determined to kill a big
+Eskimo dog I had at midday and drink his blood (only a few days before
+I had been reading an account of the sustaining properties of dogs’
+blood in Dr. Nansen’s book) if I survived the battle with him.
+
+I could not help feeling, even then, my ludicrous position, and I
+thought if I ever got ashore again I would have to laugh at myself
+standing hour after hour waving my shirt at those lofty cliffs, which
+seemed to assume a kind of sardonic grin, so that I could almost
+imagine they were laughing at me. I thought of the good breakfast my
+colleagues were enjoying just at the back of those same cliffs, and of
+the snug fire and comfortable room which we call our study.
+
+I can honestly say that from first to last not a single sensation
+of fear entered my mind, even when struggling in the “slob” ice. It
+all seemed so natural; I had been through the ice half-a-dozen times
+before. Now I merely felt sleepy, and the idea was very strong in my
+mind that I should soon reach the solution of the mysteries that I had
+been preaching about for so many years.
+
+It was a perfect morning, a cobalt sky and an ultramarine sea, a golden
+sun, and an almost wasteful extravagance of crimson pouring over hills
+of purest snow, which caught and reflected its glories from every peak
+and crag. Between me and their feet lay miles of rough ice, bordered
+with the black “slob” formed during the night. Lastly, there was my
+poor little pan in the fore-ground, bobbing up and down on the edge
+of the open sea, stained with blood, and littered with carcasses and
+_débris_. It was smaller than last night; the edges, beating against
+the new ice around, had heaped themselves up in fragments that, owing
+to its diminutive size, it could ill spare. I also noticed that the new
+ice from the water melted under the dogs’ bodies had also been formed
+at the expense of its thickness. Five dogs and myself in a coloured
+football costume and a blood-smeared dog-skin cloak, with a grey
+flannel shirt on a pole of frozen dogs’ legs, completed the picture.
+
+The sun was almost hot by now, and I was conscious of a surplus of heat
+in my skin cloak. I began to look longingly at one of my remaining
+dogs, for an appetite will rise even on an ice pan. The idea of eating
+made me think of fire, so once again I inspected my matches. Alas! the
+heads had entirely soaked off them all, except three or four blue-top
+wax matches which were in a paste. These I now laid out to dry, and
+I searched around on my snow pan to see if I could get a bit of
+transparent ice with which to make a burning-glass, for I was pretty
+sure that, with all the unravelled tow stuffed into my nether garments
+and the fat of the dead dogs, I could make smoke enough to be seen if I
+could only get a light.
+
+I had found a piece which it seemed might answer the purpose, and
+had gone back to wave my flag, which I did every two minutes, when
+suddenly, for the second time, I thought I saw the glitter of an oar.
+It did not seem possible, however, for it must be remembered that it
+was not water that lay between me and the land, but “slob” ice, which,
+a mile or two inshore of me, was very heavy. Even if people had seen
+me, I did not think they could get through, though I knew all of them
+would be trying. Moreover, there was no smoke rising on the land to
+give me hope that I had been seen. There had been no gun flashes in the
+night, and I felt sure that, had anyone seen me, there would have been
+a bonfire on every hill to encourage me to keep going. So I gave it up
+and went on with my work. But the next time I went back to my flag it
+seemed very distinct, and though it kept disappearing as we rose and
+fell on the surface, my readers can well imagine I kept my eyes in that
+direction. Through my dark spectacles having been lost, however, I was
+already partly snow-blind.
+
+I waved the flag as high as I could raise it in a direction to be
+broadside towards those places where I thought people might have gone
+out around the ice after ducks, which is their main occupation a little
+later in the year. I hoped that they might then see my flag and come
+straight on for me. At last, beside the glitter of a white oar, I made
+out the black speck of a hull. I knew then if the pan held out for
+another hour that I should be all right.
+
+With that strange perversity of the human intellect, the first thing I
+thought of when I realized that a rescue boat was under way was what
+trophies I could carry with my luggage from the pan! I pictured the
+dog-bone flagstaff adorning my study--the dogs intervened, however, and
+ate it later on--and I thought of preserving my ragged puttees in my
+museum.
+
+I could see that my rescuers were frantically waving, and when they
+came within shouting distance I heard someone shout, “Don’t get
+excited; keep on the pan, where you are.” As a matter of fact, they
+were infinitely more excited than I. Already it seemed just as natural
+to me now to be saved as half an hour before it seemed inevitable that
+I should be lost. Had my rescuers only known, as I did, the sensations
+of a bath in the ice when you cannot dry yourself afterwards, they need
+not have expected me to throw myself into the water.
+
+At last the boat came up, crashing into my pan with such violence
+that I was glad enough to catch hold of the bow, being more or less
+acquainted by now with the frail constitution of my floe, and being
+well aware it was not adapted for collisions. Moreover, I felt for the
+pan, for it had been a good and faithful friend to me.
+
+A hearty handshake all round and a warm cup of tea--thoughtfully packed
+in a kettle--inside, and we hoisted in my remaining dogs and instantly
+started back, for even then a change of wind might have penned the boat
+with ice, which would have cost us dearly. Indeed, the men thought we
+could not return, and we started for an island, in which direction the
+way was all open.
+
+[Illustration: “I COULD SEE THAT MY RESCUERS WERE FRANTICALLY WAVING.”]
+
+There were not only five Newfoundland fishermen at the oars, but five
+men with Newfoundland muscles in their backs and arms and five as brave
+hearts as ever beat in the bodies of human beings. So we presently
+changed our course and forced our way through to the shore.
+
+To my intense astonishment they told me that the night before four
+men had been out on a point of land, from which the bay is visible,
+cutting some dead harp seals out from a store. The ice had been
+extraordinarily hard, and it had taken them till seven o’clock at night
+to cut out twenty-four seals. Just at the very moment before they left
+for home, my pan of ice had drifted out clear of the island called
+Hare Island, and one of them, with his keen fisherman’s eyes, had seen
+something unusual. They at once returned to their village, saying there
+was a man on a pan, but they had been discredited, for the people there
+thought it could only be the top of some tree.
+
+All the time I had been driving along I knew well that there was one
+man on the coast who had a good spy-glass, and that he had twelve
+children, among them some of the hardiest young men on the coast. Many
+times my thoughts had wandered to him, for his sons are everywhere,
+hunting seals and everything else. It was his sons, and another man
+with them, who saw me, and were now with him in the boat. The owner
+of the spy-glass told me he got up instantly in the middle of tea on
+hearing the news, and hurried over the cliff to the look-out with his
+glass. Immediately, dark as it was, he made out that there really was
+a man out on the ice. Indeed, he saw me wave my hands every now and
+again towards the shore. By a process of reasoning very easy on so
+unfrequented a shore, they immediately knew who it was, but tried to
+argue themselves out of their conviction. They went down at once to
+try and launch a boat, but found it absolutely impossible. Miles of
+ice lay between them and me, the heavy sea was hurling great blocks on
+the land-wash, and night was already falling, with the wind blowing
+hard on shore. These brave fellows, however, did not sit down idly.
+The whole village was aroused, messengers dispatched at once along the
+coast, and look-outs told off to all the favourable points, so that
+while I considered myself a laughing-stock, waving my flag at those
+irresponsive cliffs, there were really men’s eyes watching from them
+all the time.
+
+Every soul in the village was on the beach as we neared the shore,
+and everybody wanted to shake hands when I landed. Even with the grip
+that one after another gave me, some no longer trying to keep back
+the tears, I did not find out that my hands were frost-bitten--a fact
+I have not been slow to appreciate since. A weird sight I must have
+looked as I stepped ashore--tied up in rags stuffed out with oakum,
+wrapped in the blood-stained skins of dogs, with no hat, coat, or
+gloves, and only a short pair of knickers on! It must have seemed to
+some of them as if the Old Man of the Sea had landed.
+
+No time was wasted before a pot of tea was exactly where I wanted it to
+be, and some hot stew was locating itself where I had intended an hour
+before that the blood of one of my remaining dogs should have gone.
+
+Rigged out in the warm garments that fishermen wear, I started with a
+large team as hard as I could race for hospital, for I had learnt that
+the news had gone over that I was lost. It was soon painfully impressed
+upon me that I could not much enjoy the ride; I had to be hauled like a
+log up the hills, my feet being frost-bitten so that I could not walk.
+Had I guessed this before I might have avoided much trouble.
+
+We all love life, and I was glad to be back once more with a new
+lease of it before me. My colleague soon had me “fixed up,” and I was
+presently enjoying a really refreshing sleep.
+
+[Illustration: THE AUTHOR AS HE APPEARED AFTER HIS TERRIBLE EXPERIENCE
+ON THE ICE FLOE, SHOWING THE FLAG-STAFF MADE OF DOGS’ BONES.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+(Copyright, 1908, by Fleming H. Revell Company.)
+
+
+
+
+THE WIDE WORLD: In Other Magazines.
+
+
+UNIQUE POST-OFFICE IN NEBRASKA.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Some years ago, a traveller recounting his experiences of the early
+days of the city of Nebraska, U.S.A., says that on arriving at the odd
+collection of shanties that then represented the beginnings of the
+city, he inquired for the post-office, and was referred to an old chap
+sitting on a log. Of this man he further inquired where he could find
+the post-office, as he expected a letter. The old chap removed his
+sombrero, and, fumbling inside it, produced the expected letter. Since
+then Nebraska has grown into considerable importance as the capital of
+the State of Nebraska.--“THE CAPTAIN.”
+
+
+CURIOUS FISHING SUPERSTITIONS.
+
+In British Columbia the Indians ceremoniously go out to meet the
+first salmon, and in flattering voices try to win their favour by
+calling them all chiefs. Every spring in California the Karaks used
+to dance for salmon. Meanwhile one of their number secluded himself
+in the mountains and fasted for ten days. Upon his return he solemnly
+approached the river, took the first salmon of the catch, ate some
+of it, and with the remainder lighted a sacrificial fire. The same
+Indians laboriously climbed to the mountain-top after the poles for
+the spearing-booth, being convinced that if they were gathered where
+the salmon were watching no fish would be caught. In Japan, among
+the primitive race of the Ainos, even the women left at home are not
+allowed to talk, lest the fish may hear and disapprove, while the first
+fish is always brought in through a window instead of a door, so that
+other fish may not see.--“TIT-BITS.”
+
+
+FLEMISH FISHERWOMEN.
+
+On the coasts of Holland, Belgium, and Northern France fisherwomen
+are a familiar sight, with their great hand-nets and quaint costumes.
+Many of the towns have distinctive costumes by which their women
+can be recognised anywhere. Those of Maria-Kirke, near Ostend, wear
+trousers and loose blouses, while their heads and shoulders are covered
+by shawls. They carry their nets into the sea, and scoop up vast
+quantities of shrimps and prawns, with an occasional crab or lobster
+and many small fish. They often wade out till the water is up to their
+necks, and they remain for hours at a time in water above their knees,
+rarely returning until their baskets are full.--“WOMAN’S LIFE.”
+
+
+CANADA FOR THE SPORTSMAN.
+
+Canada is an ideal country for the sportsman. Notwithstanding its rapid
+commercial development, it still has thousands of miles of wild and
+unexplored land, where man has seldom or never trodden. Even in the
+Eastern provinces, within a very short distance of civilization, wild
+animals of many kinds--moose, caribou, elk, deer, and even bears--still
+abound. From the Atlantic coast to the Pacific slope, from the
+international boundary line north to the Arctic circle, Canada offers
+magnificent opportunities to the sportsman, whatever his tastes may
+be; big and small game-shooting, fishing, camping, canoeing.--“FRY’S
+MAGAZINE.”
+
+
+THE GEESE OF NIEDER-MÖRLEN.
+
+In the little Hessean village of Nieder-Mörlen, between Giessen and
+Frankfort, a strange scene may be witnessed every evening at half-past
+five. Some two thousand geese, which have spent the day on the river’s
+bank below the village, at a given signal from their leaders make their
+way homewards with much pomp and circumstance and raucous noise. The
+strangest part of the proceeding is seen when they reach the village
+street and, without any guidance or driving, waddle each into its
+own yard for the night. Like so many squads they break off in their
+dozens from the main body, knowing instinctively their owners’ door,
+and with solemn gait enter in as though conscious of their own innate
+cleverness.--Mr. A.H. Ross, in “THE STRAND MAGAZINE.”
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+Odds and Ends.
+
+A Wonderful Balanced Rock--What a Lightning Flash Did--The Sea
+Captain’s House, etc.
+
+
+Near Dome Rock, Colorado, thirty-two miles up Platte Canyon from
+Denver, is situated one of the most wonderful balanced rocks in the
+world. This rock, as will be seen from the illustration, is poised
+with very little of its surface touching the ground. The most peculiar
+feature about the boulder is the fact that it does not rest on a flat
+surface of soft earth, but is perched out on an incline with a very
+steep angle. The slope on which it stands, moreover, is of smooth,
+solid rock, too slippery for anyone to walk up, and how the boulder
+maintains its position is a mystery.
+
+[Illustration: A WONDERFUL BALANCED ROCK--IT IS PERCHED ON A STEEP
+SLOPE OF SMOOTH, SLIPPERY ROCK, AND HOW IT MAINTAINS ITS POSITION IS A
+MYSTERY.
+
+_From a Photo. by J. R. Bauer._]
+
+Church bells and church plate, as related in a recent WIDE WORLD
+article, are not the only kinds of buried treasure of which there are
+traditions in Worcestershire. Mr. J.W. Willis Bund, in his “Civil War
+in Worcestershire,” says: “There is hardly a family who possessed a
+landed estate at the time of the Civil War that has not some legend
+of concealed treasure. For instance, the Berkeleys, of Spetchley,
+say their butler, to save the family plate, hid it under one of the
+elms in the avenue. The butler was wounded, and tried with his last
+breath to confide his secret to a member of the family, but could get
+no further than ’plate,’ ‘elm,’ ‘avenue,’ and died; so that the plate
+remains hidden to this day.” The occasion upon which the Berkeley
+plate was hidden was the sack and burning of their family mansion
+at Spetchley, upon the eve of the Battle of Worcester, by the Scots
+troops who accompanied Charles II. from the North. Sir Robert Berkeley
+was a devoted Royalist and had suffered much for the King, and members
+of his family were serving in the Royal army; but the Scots, who had
+fought upon both sides, were not careful to distinguish between friend
+and foe. The only portion of Spetchley which escaped the flames was
+the stabling. Here Cromwell made his head-quarters, and after the war
+Judge Berkeley converted the building into a house and lived there
+for many years. The elm avenue in Spetchley Park, where the plate was
+buried, still exists, and is one of the finest in Worcestershire. For
+the photograph given above we are indebted to the courtesy of Mr. T.
+Duckworth, of the Worcester Victoria Institute.
+
+[Illustration: THE ELM AVENUE IN SPETCHLEY PARK, WORCESTERSHIRE--A
+FAITHFUL BUTLER, AT THE TIME OF THE CIVIL WAR, BURIED THE FAMILY PLATE
+UNDER ONE OF THE TREES TO SAVE IT FROM THE ENEMY, BUT DIED BEFORE HE
+COULD REVEAL THE SECRET OF THE HIDING-PLACE.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+The curious little building seen in the next photograph stands at the
+end of a private walk on the shores of the River Orwell, in Suffolk.
+It is known as the “Cat House,” for the reason that, in the “good old
+times,” a white cat used to be exhibited at a window visible from the
+river as a signal to smugglers, who flourished in the locality. When
+the animal was shown, the “Free-Traders,” as the contrabandists were
+euphemistically called, knew that the coast was clear, and promptly
+sailed up and landed their cargo, secure from the attentions of the
+“preventives.” Near “Cat House” is Downham Reach, which was the scene
+of some of Margaret Catchpole’s most exciting adventures.
+
+[Illustration: THE “CAT HOUSE,” NEAR IPSWICH, SO CALLED BECAUSE A WHITE
+CAT WAS EXHIBITED AT THE WINDOW AS A SIGNAL TO SMUGGLERS.
+
+_From a Photo. by Frith & Co._]
+
+[Illustration: THIS TERRIFIC OIL FIRE, STARTED BY A LIGHTNING FLASH,
+DID A HUNDRED AND FIFTY THOUSAND DOLLARS’ WORTH OF DAMAGE.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+The accompanying photograph depicts a terrific oil fire, which
+occurred on the night of June 23rd, 1908, at Warren, Pennsylvania.
+The conflagration started through a tank being struck by lightning,
+and in a very short time twenty-five oil-holders, large and small,
+together with the wax-house, were destroyed. The fire burned for nearly
+twenty-four hours, and its fierceness is almost impossible to conceive.
+The total loss incurred was something like one hundred and fifty
+thousand dollars.
+
+The extraordinary-looking dwelling seen in the next picture was
+built to exactly resemble a steamship’s bridge, with chart-room and
+other appurtenances all complete. This curious erection is situated
+at Algorta, near Bilbao, in the North of Spain, and is called
+“Casa-Barco,” or “house-boat.” It was probably built by a retired
+sea-captain, who felt like a fish out of water until he had provided
+for himself the same environment to which he had been used during
+his active career at sea. One can imagine the old gentleman taking
+his evening walk to and fro along the lofty bridge, scanning the
+surrounding country with a sailor’s eye, and half inclined now and then
+to ring for “more speed,” or to send an order down the tube to the
+steersman.
+
+[Illustration: A HOUSE BUILT TO RESEMBLE A STEAMSHIP’S BRIDGE.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+The cat seen in the next photograph was the pet of the crew of the
+ill-fated whaler _Windward_, which was wrecked in Baffin’s Bay last
+season. After the disaster pussy had a long, cold voyage in the open
+boats in which the ship-wrecked men pulled--amidst ice-bergs, snow,
+and tossing seas--for over five hundred miles, encountering dangers
+and adventures galore, till after three weeks of fearful exposure and
+hardship they were picked up by the whaler _Morning_, in which the
+correspondent who sent us the picture was a passenger. “Pussy then
+made up for her sufferings by making her home in my bunk,” he writes.
+“During the cold nights of the Arctic autumn I found her a very good
+substitute for a hot-water bottle.”
+
+[Illustration: A CAT WHICH MADE A FIVE-HUNDRED-MILE VOYAGE IN AN OPEN
+BOAT IN THE ARCTIC OCEAN.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+[Illustration: ANOTHER REMARKABLE ROCK--IT IS AN ALMOST PERFECT GLOBE,
+AND THOUGH IT PROBABLY WEIGHS TWENTY TONS FOUR STRONG MEN CAN SET IT
+SPINNING ON ITS BASE.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+On the foreshore of the Mata Beach, Mangapai, New Zealand, stands the
+remarkable rock shown above. It is an almost perfect sphere of hard
+blue rock, shot with white quartz, of an entirely different formation
+from any other known rocks in the district. The mystery is, of course,
+to know how it reached its present position on the soft sandstone of
+the beach. Popular opinion is that in distant ages it was shot from a
+volcano, since extinct. The rock, which probably weighs twenty tons,
+rests in a cup like depression in the sandstone formation on which it
+stands, and is so nicely poised that four strong men, encircling it
+with their arms and all pushing one way, can set it spinning on its
+base.
+
+[Illustration: THE BULL-THROWER SEIZING THE ANIMAL BY THE TAIL.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+[Illustration: OVER! THE BULL GOES CRASHING TO EARTH AMID A CLOUD OF
+DUST.
+
+_From a Photograph_]
+
+The two snapshots reproduced above illustrate striking phases of an
+exciting Mexican pastime--that of flooring bulls with the hand from
+horseback! The rider, galloping after the bull, seizes it by the tail
+and, passing his leg over the tail for the sake of leverage, pulls the
+poor beast round sideways until it trips and goes crashing to earth
+amidst a cloud of dust. Needless to say, the bull-thrower needs a
+strong hand and steady nerves, or he may find himself in trouble.
+
+[Illustration: THE MAP-CONTENTS OF “THE WIDE WORLD MAGAZINE,” WHICH
+SHOWS AT A GLANCE THE LOCALITY OF EACH ARTICLE AND NARRATIVE OF
+ADVENTURE IN THIS NUMBER.]
+
+
+[Transcriber’s Note:
+
+Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation are as in the original.]
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Wide World Magazine, by Various
+
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+    Wide World - Vol. 22, No. 130, by The Wide World Magazine.. -- a Project Gutenberg eBook
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+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Wide World Magazine, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
+other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
+the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
+www.gutenberg.org.  If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
+to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
+
+
+
+Title: Wide World Magazine
+       Volume XXII, January, 1909, Number 130
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: December 4, 2015 [EBook #50608]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WIDE WORLD MAGAZINE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Victorian/Edwardian Pictorial Magazines,
+Jonathan Ingram, Wayne Hammond, and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<img id="coverpage" src="images/cover.jpg"
+alt="" />
+<p class="copy">The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. -->
+
+<h2>Table of Contents</h2>
+
+<table>
+  <tr>
+    <th class="tdr" colspan="2">Page</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td><a href="#The_Wide_World_Magazine">The Wide World Magazine.</a></td>
+    <td class="tdr">315</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td><a href="#The_Beulah_County_War">The Beulah County “War.”</a></td>
+    <td class="tdr">315</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td><a href="#Photographing_a_Volcano_in_Eruption">Photographing a Volcano in Eruption.</a></td>
+    <td class="tdr">323</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td><a href="#Our_Leopard_Hunt">Our Leopard Hunt.</a></td>
+    <td class="tdr">331</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td><a href="#TURTLE-FARMING">Turtle-farming.</a></td>
+    <td class="tdr">336</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td><a href="#SHORT">Short Stories.</a></td>
+    <td class="tdr">343</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td><a href="#SOME_SAVAGE_PASTIMES">Some Savage Pastimes.</a></td>
+    <td class="tdr">354</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td><a href="#The_Marriage_of_Lulu">The Marriage of Lulu.</a></td>
+    <td class="tdr">361</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td><a href="#THE_BREAKER">The Breaker of Records.</a></td>
+    <td class="tdr">367</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td><a href="#A_White_Woman_in">A White Woman in Cannibal-Land.</a></td>
+    <td class="tdr">372</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td><a href="#My_Experiences">My Experiences in Algeria.</a></td>
+    <td class="tdr">377</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td><a href="#Shot-Gun_Jim">“Shot-Gun Jim.”</a></td>
+    <td class="tdr">385</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td><a href="#A_Perilous_Mission">A Perilous Mission.</a></td>
+    <td class="tdr">394</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td><a href="#A_Voyage_on_an_Ice-Floe">A Voyage on an Ice-Floe.</a></td>
+    <td class="tdr">403</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td><a href="#THE_WIDE_WORLD_In_Other_Magazines">The Wide World: In Other Magazines.</a></td>
+    <td class="tdr">411</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td><a href="#Odds_and_Ends">Odds and Ends.</a></td>
+    <td class="tdr">412</td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. -->
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i001.jpg">
+<img src="images/i001.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">“‘CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!’ CAME THE ANSWER FROM CUTLER’S GUN.”</p>
+<p class="center">(<a href="#Page_319">SEE PAGE 319.</a>)
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_315">315</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<h1 id="The_Wide_World_Magazine"><span class="smcap">The Wide World Magazine.</span></h1>
+
+<p class="table w100">
+<span class="tcell tdl">Vol. XXII.</span>
+<span class="tcell tdc">JANUARY, 1909.</span>
+<span class="tcell tdr">No. 130.</span>
+</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<h2 id="The_Beulah_County_War">The Beulah County “War.”<br />
+
+<span class="smcap medium">By H. M. Vernon.</span></h2>
+
+<blockquote>
+
+<p>One of the most striking characteristics of the Westerner is the high regard in which he holds
+womankind. Even in the roughest mining camps a woman is absolutely safe, and is treated with a
+consideration unknown in many more civilized centres. This remarkable story illustrates the
+Westerner’s innate chivalry in a very striking fashion. Sooner than drag the name of a young
+schoolmistress into a quarrel, a resident of Three Corners, Montana, allowed himself to be made an
+outlaw, and for weeks defied the population of a whole county to arrest him, even when a field gun
+was brought out to shell his fastness. How in his extremity the girl he had befriended came to his
+rescue and put an end to this extraordinary “war” is graphically told in the narrative.</p></blockquote>
+
+<div>
+<img class="drop-cap" src="images/i.jpg" alt="I" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">In</span> the extreme western part of the
+State of Montana, U.S.A., in the
+County of Beulah, lies a little town
+called Three Corners. At first only
+a junction on the Rio Grande Railway,
+from which point countless thousands of
+cattle were shipped to all parts of the world,
+Three Corners grew to be a flourishing place.
+The wooden shanties, gambling “joints,” and
+dance halls gave way to brick buildings, several
+banks, a school, and other signs of progress, as
+respectable settlers moved farther toward the
+Golden West. Of course, a part of the old town
+remained, and with it a few of the characters
+typical of a Western “cow town.” Among
+these was a tall, raw-boned man who had drifted
+West in the ‘eighties, settling at Three Corners
+and opening a gambling-house. His name was
+“Jim” Cutler. He was a man of very few
+words, but with one great failing&mdash;he would
+shoot first and argue afterwards. Yet this gambler,
+who was known and feared far and wide as a
+“gun-fighter,” was at heart the mildest of men,
+beloved by all the children in the town, to whom
+he gave coppers galore. Furthermore, Cutler
+would put up with all manner of insult from a
+man under the influence of liquor, or from
+“Tenderfeet” who did not know their danger.
+Cutler’s shooting propensities were directed
+solely toward avowed “bad men” or those who
+delighted in being known as bullies. In the
+course of his altercations with such characters
+this tall, raw-boned man&mdash;who could, and did,
+“pull his gun” like a streak of lightning&mdash;added
+to the population of the local cemetery with a
+score of six.</p>
+
+<p>Among the new-comers to Three Corners
+during the rehabilitation of that town was a
+Hebrew named Moses Goldman. This man, a
+good-looking fellow of some twenty-eight years,
+hailed from New York. He opened a shop, and,
+with the business ability of his race, soon succeeded
+in making it the principal draper’s establishment
+of the place. Before long, however,
+reports began to circulate that the handsome
+young Hebrew was not quite so respectful in
+demeanour towards his lady customers as he
+should have been, and, although highly popular
+with a certain element, the major portion of
+Three Corners’ female population gave Goldman’s
+shop a wide berth.</p>
+
+<p>One Monday morning Jim Cutler, who had
+been up all night looking after the “game” in
+his establishment, was just leaving the place
+when a young woman, whom he recognised as
+the schoolmistress, ran up to him and said:
+“Oh, Mr. Cutler, would you mind walking as
+far as the school-house with me?”</p>
+
+<p>Cutler, somewhat astonished, did so, and was
+gratefully thanked for his trouble. After leaving
+her he walked slowly back to his rooms, wondering
+why he of all men should have been
+chosen to escort the pretty “school ma’am.”</p>
+
+<p>Some days afterwards Cutler, who passed the
+school on his way to and from the Gem Saloon
+(his place), saw the mistress deliberately cross
+the street just before reaching Goldman’s shop,
+and continue on her way on the other side. He
+also saw Goldman come to the door and try to
+attract the girl’s attention. When he reached
+Goldman, the latter; twirling his moustache,
+remarked, laughingly, “Shy girl, that, eh?”
+Cutler looked at the Hebrew for a moment, and
+then answered quietly, as he moved away, “She
+ain’t your kind.”</p>
+
+<p>Three weeks after this little episode there was
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_316">316</span>
+a ball at the City Hotel, and, naturally, almost
+the entire youth and beauty of Three Corners
+“turned out.” The City Hotel was just opposite
+Cutler’s saloon, and at about one o’clock the
+gambler was sitting in a chair outside his place,
+listening to the music, when the schoolmistress
+and her mother left the hotel on their way home.
+A moment later a man also quitted the building
+and followed them. Presently he stopped the
+two ladies and attempted to converse with them.
+The younger of the women apparently expostulated
+with him, and then the two went on,
+leaving him standing at the corner. Cutler
+recognised the solitary figure as that of
+Goldman, the draper, and drew his own conclusions.
+Next morning Cutler made it his
+business to leave the Gem Saloon just as the
+schoolmistress was passing, and strode up to
+her.</p>
+
+<p>“Miss Thurloe,” he said, “you were stopped
+last night on your way home. Can I be of any
+assistance to you? I know you have only your
+mother to protect you.”</p>
+
+<p>The girl gave him a grateful look, and
+explained that Goldman had repeatedly forced
+his attentions on her. She had done her best
+to send him about his business, but he continually
+annoyed her, even going so far as to
+enter the school-house, interrupting lessons and
+making himself generally obnoxious.</p>
+
+<p>Cutler smiled grimly during the girl’s hesitating
+recital, saw her safely to her destination, and
+then went home for a sleep. At three o’clock
+that afternoon he walked leisurely towards the
+school-house, stopped at the fence just by the
+rear door, and chatted with the boys, it being
+the recess hour. Suddenly, approaching from
+the opposite direction, he beheld Goldman, who
+walked straight into the school-house without
+having seen the gambler. The latter waited for
+a few moments, then he also entered the building.
+Reaching the schoolroom, at the end of
+a short hall, he found the door locked, and
+promptly threw himself against it with all his
+strength. The door gave way with a crash and
+Cutler leapt in, to see the schoolmistress
+struggling in the arms of Goldman. She was
+fighting like a tigress, but the Jew’s hand, held
+tightly over her mouth, prevented her crying
+out. Directly Goldman beheld the saloon-keeper
+he released his prisoner, who sank back
+panting upon a chair, and glared savagely at
+the new-comer. Cutler, ignoring him entirely,
+walked slowly toward the agitated schoolmistress
+and stood still, waiting for her to speak.</p>
+
+<p>Goldman, however, was the first to do so.
+“Oh, no wonder I’ve no chance,” he burst out,
+viciously; “Cutler’s as lucky in love as he
+usually is at cards.”</p>
+
+<p>Cutler flushed at the gibe, but he said not a
+word, waiting for the girl to speak. Presently,
+having in a measure recovered herself, she rose
+and approached the gambler. “Mr. Cutler,”
+she said, unsteadily, “this man has insulted me
+repeatedly. Just now he tried to kiss me by
+force, and I’m afraid I shall have to give up my
+position here and leave Three Corners.”</p>
+
+<p>In a very gentle voice Cutler asked the girl
+to leave the room for a few minutes. After she
+had gone he turned toward Goldman, who
+stood looking at him defiantly, his arms folded
+across his chest.</p>
+
+<p>“If you were a man,” he said, sternly, “I’d
+drop you where you stand, but I’m going to
+teach you a lesson that’ll do you a heap of
+good.” Then, with a sudden bound, he grasped
+Goldman by the throat, threw him across a
+desk, and, with a three-foot ruler, administered a
+thrashing such as might be given to a recalcitrant
+schoolboy, only with somewhat greater severity.
+The punishment over, Cutler picked the man
+up and, dragging him across the floor, threw
+him bodily out of the building. Now Goldman
+was himself a powerful man, but Cutler’s action
+had been so swift and decisive that the Hebrew
+had practically no chance to offer resistance.
+Once freed from the gambler’s hold, however,
+he turned and flew at his adversary with
+clenched fists, snarling furiously. Cutler stood
+quite still, and just as the Hebrew came within
+the proper distance his right fist shot out
+straight from the shoulder. It landed square on
+Goldman’s jaw, and he dropped like a log.</p>
+
+<p>Several of the school-children, attracted by
+the noise, now crowded round, vastly excited.
+Cutler, having informed Miss Thurloe that he
+believed she would not be further annoyed,
+but that he would keep an eye on “that fool
+masher,” walked slowly toward the town, leaving
+the vanquished draper lying where he had fallen.</p>
+
+<p>It has been necessary to explain all this in
+order that readers of <span class="smcap">The Wide World
+Magazine</span> unfamiliar with the ways of the
+Far West may better understand what follows.
+I have said that the better element had in a
+manner of speaking driven the original settlers
+at Three Corners to new fields. These new-comers
+looked upon Cutler as an “undesirable.”
+His reputation as a “man-killer” did not appeal
+to the emigrants from the cultured Eastern
+States, who would gladly have seen him pack up
+and leave the town. Goldman was quite aware
+of this, so, directly he recovered himself, he
+asked for and obtained a warrant for Cutler’s
+arrest on a charge of assault. The gambler was
+arraigned before the local magistrate, where he
+steadfastly refused to give any reason for the
+chastisement he had inflicted upon Goldman.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_317">317</span>
+The latter immediately realized the advantage
+of Cutler’s chivalrous reluctance to drag a
+woman’s name into the affair, and so swore
+that the assault was entirely unprovoked and
+committed out of “pure devilry” on Cutler’s
+part. Cutler was fined fifty dollars
+and severely admonished by the
+Court. Everyone wondered why
+this acknowledged “bad man” did
+not promptly wreak vengeance on
+the Hebrew. The gambler, however,
+desiring to protect the name
+of the school-teacher, said not a word, but paid
+the fine and went about his business as though
+nothing had happened.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i004.jpg">
+<img src="images/i004.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">“HE ADMINISTERED A THRASHING SUCH AS MIGHT BE GIVEN TO A RECALCITRANT SCHOOLBOY.”</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Some ten days passed, when, one moonlight
+evening, Cutler came driving down the road
+leading into Three Corners, behind a fast-trotting
+horse. Just as he reached the end of a long
+field of corn a report rang out and his horse
+dropped, riddled with shot. Cutler jumped
+from his buggy, whipped out his revolver,
+and made for the corn-field, from which the
+shot had evidently come. He made a thorough
+search, but the tall corn-stalks afforded a secure
+hiding-place to the would-be assassin&mdash;for Cutler
+had no doubt whatever that the shot had been
+meant for him. Reluctantly giving up his quest,
+he walked back to his saloon and sent several
+men to remove the dead horse and bring in his
+buggy. The next morning he again made his
+way to the corn-field, and there, just by the
+fence, he found five discarded cigarette ends of
+a very expensive Egyptian brand which he knew
+to be smoked by only one man in Three
+Corners&mdash;Goldman, the draper. Evidently the
+man had lain in wait for a long time. Cutler
+next climbed over the fence, and was about to
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_318">318</span>
+return when he saw lying in the path a piece of
+cloth torn from a jacket, and on it a button. It
+looked as though the would-be murderer, in
+jumping the fence, had caught his coat on the
+barbed wire; at any rate, he had left a damning
+piece of evidence behind him. With the
+cigarette ends and the fragment of cloth in his
+pocket, Cutler walked leisurely up the road into
+the town and made direct for the shop of Moses
+Goldman.</p>
+
+<p>The draper was standing on a step-ladder
+arranging some goods on the shelves. When
+the door opened, ringing a small bell, he turned,
+and seeing Cutler jumped down from the ladder.
+The gambler looked the man straight in the eye.
+“You miserable cur!” he cried, angrily. “You’d
+shoot a man in the dark, would you?”</p>
+
+<p>Goldman, realizing that Cutler had satisfied
+himself as to the identity of his assailant, made
+as if to draw a revolver. That was the last
+movement he ever made, for the next instant he
+dropped dead, shot clean through the heart.</p>
+
+<p>The gambler waited for a moment to see if
+the report of the pistol had attracted any attention;
+then, as no one appeared, he quietly left
+the shop, went over to his saloon, placed two
+revolvers in his belt, and filled his pockets with
+ammunition. Then, taking up a Winchester
+repeating-rifle, he went to the stable, saddled
+his horse, and after a few words with his bartender
+rode out of Three Corners in a westerly
+direction.</p>
+
+<p>It was not long after his departure before
+the entire town was in an uproar. Moses
+Goldman, the energetic draper, had been
+found shot&mdash;killed in his own shop by Jim
+Cutler. The latter had been seen entering
+Goldman’s establishment by several persons,
+and the shot had been heard by people living
+above the store, who afterwards saw Cutler
+leaving. Sheriff Benson, accompanied by two
+deputies, promptly called at the Gem Saloon,
+but the officer was a trifle late, for Cutler was by
+that time some miles distant. Lest it should be
+thought that Cutler had made his escape through
+cowardice it may be best to explain at once,
+perhaps, that this was not the case. The man
+realized that should he be apprehended the
+name of Miss Thurloe must necessarily figure
+prominently in the matter. Strange as it may
+seem, this six-foot gambler, knowing no better,
+believed that by “making himself scarce” he
+was protecting that lady’s good name. This was
+a mistake, undoubtedly, but the fact remains
+that he made it.</p>
+
+<p>It happened that Rufe Benson, Sheriff of
+Beulah County, was a sworn enemy of Cutler’s,
+for the latter some years before had taken the law
+into his own hands and at the point of his gun
+liberated a prisoner whom he believed to be
+innocent, and who was eventually proved to be
+so. Benson now formed a posse of some twenty
+armed men, and there began a man-hunt which
+lasted, so far as this particular posse was concerned,
+for a fortnight. They were then reinforced
+by a body of “Rangers,” some fifty
+strong, who in turn found it necessary to call to
+their assistance a body of militia. All these
+officers were ably assisted by the citizens and
+residents of Beulah County, altogether some
+thousand strong, and yet Jim Cutler proved
+more than their match. Benson’s men trailed
+the fugitive to Kerry’s ranch, some six miles
+out; from here he had gone north-west toward
+the Rio Grande. He was mounted on a thoroughbred&mdash;as
+were all the men, for that matter&mdash;but
+six miles was a long start in a case like this, and
+should the hunted man once reach the mountains&mdash;well,
+there might be some trouble in
+getting at him. The telegraph was put into
+operation, and a circle some ten miles in circumference
+drawn around Cutler. When this cordon
+closed in, however, they failed to find the
+gambler amongst them, but they <i>did</i> find two
+self-appointed “man-hunters” lying where they
+had fallen to the deadly aim of Jim Cutler’s
+repeating-rifle.</p>
+
+<p>From every town for miles around amateur
+detectives joined the hunt, but no trace could
+be found of Cutler beyond the Moulin River,
+a tiny stream only some twenty feet wide, so the
+rivulet was dammed and the water drained off
+for miles, so as to discover, if possible, whether
+Cutler had ridden up or down stream. While
+one party of men were doing this, others rode
+in all directions, searched the ranches, and
+notified every town by telegraph to keep a look-out
+for the slayer of Moses Goldman. More
+and more people joined in the hunt, but for
+some days, in the slang of the West, “there was
+nothing doing.” Then, early one morning, two
+horsemen came galloping towards Benson’s camp,
+and one of the men, dismounting, delivered a
+message to the effect that Cutler had been seen
+at McPherson’s ranch, some eleven miles north-west,
+where he had informed Mr. McPherson
+that he had not the slightest intention of taking
+further life unless driven to it, and that, if
+Benson would call in all his men, he (Cutler)
+would promise to give himself up in a fortnight’s
+time. (It was afterwards learned that he
+intended in the interval to communicate with
+Miss Thurloe and arrange a story, leaving her
+name entirely out of the matter.) Benson,
+however, was on his mettle, and so refused
+to parley with his quarry.</p>
+
+<p>“If Jim Cutler thinks he can defy the law
+and officers of this county, he is mightily
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_319">319</span>
+mistaken,” he said, “and we’re going to take
+him, dead or alive.” This ultimatum duly
+reached Cutler through “non-combatant”
+friends, whereupon he smiled grimly. Being
+now outlawed, it was impossible for Cutler’s
+friends to assist him without making themselves
+amenable to the law, so the hunted man
+demanded and secured everything he required
+at the point of the pistol.</p>
+
+<p>Within fourteen days thereafter nine men who
+had attempted to interfere with the escaping
+gambler paid for their foolhardiness with their
+lives, and all the time, little by little, Cutler was
+getting closer to the mountains, whose shelter
+meant so much to him. Sometimes hidden for
+hours in a haystack, or lying flat under the
+rafters of a barn loft, the fugitive moved on his
+way. The main body of pursuers often got
+within gun-shot of him, but luck favoured the
+man, and he always managed to find cover just
+in time. Finally, completely worn out&mdash;he had
+ridden two horses to death and abandoned
+others commandeered for the time being&mdash;Cutler
+reached the foot of the scrub hills or
+little range which lay between him and his goal.
+Here, for the first time, he came in contact
+with a number of the “man-hunters.” “Lon”
+Masters&mdash;a noted character in Montana, and
+himself a dead shot&mdash;accompanied by eight
+cowboys, suddenly appeared over a rise in the
+ground. Cutler, on foot, saw them coming.
+He dropped on one knee and his rifle flew to
+his shoulder. The horsemen drew rein, and
+Masters, making a trumpet of his hands,
+shouted, “Don’t be a fool, Jim; you’re sure to
+be caught sooner or later. Let me take you, and
+I’ll promise no harm shall come to you. You
+know my word.”</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i006.jpg">
+<img src="images/i006.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">TABLE ROCK, CUTLER’S STRONGHOLD IN BEULAH COUNTY.<br />
+<i>From a Photograph.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>“Can’t do it, Lon,” Cutler shouted back. “If
+they give me ten days without interference I’ll
+give myself up&mdash;you know <i>my</i> word.”</p>
+
+<p>“Jim,” responded Masters, “if you don’t
+drop your gun we shall have to fire.”</p>
+
+<p>“Crack! crack! crack!” came the answer
+from Cutler’s gun, Masters and two others of
+the party being hit. The remainder now urged
+their horses forward, but, as first one and then
+another rider was “winged” by the desperate
+man in front of them, the remainder decided
+that they had urgent business elsewhere, and
+rode back for reinforcements.</p>
+
+<p>At last, after a weary night’s climb, Cutler
+reached the place he had been making for. He
+had not slept more than an hour or two for
+days, and so, secure for a time at least&mdash;for no
+one could climb these hills quicker than he had
+done&mdash;the worn-out man dropped in a heap.
+Cutler’s hiding place was a barren ledge, some
+fifty yards in extent, the only approach thereto
+being the bridle-path by which he had come.
+Two, or at most three, at a time was the only
+formation in which his pursuers could get anywhere
+near him, and with Cutler’s knowledge
+of the use of firearms this was a ticklish undertaking,
+to say the least of it. Moreover, he
+could see anyone approaching along the valley
+for a great distance. There was plenty of water
+a little distance down the path, Cutler had
+sufficient food with him to last for a week, and
+he felt he could “make a get-away” during
+this time.</p>
+
+<p>The erstwhile gambler awoke when the sun
+was high in the heavens; he felt lame and sore
+all over. Walking towards the edge of the
+ledge he saw, away in the distance, a large
+party of horsemen spread out over a great area.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_320">320</span>
+Cutler went down the path, bathed his face and
+arms in the cool spring water, and took a long
+drink; then, returning above, he sat down and
+leisurely ate from his store of dried beef,
+biscuits, and corn bread. At midday the
+approaching horsemen were in full view, and
+Cutler saw that they had come with prairie
+wagons, containing camp paraphernalia,
+evidently prepared for a siege, for they knew as
+well as he did himself of the hiding-place where
+he had taken refuge. Soon the riders came to a
+halt and Cutler laughed as he saw others coming
+from all directions, evidently anxious to be
+“in at the death.” It looked rather a big camp
+to the solitary figure high in the air, but
+numbers meant nothing, only&mdash;well, his ammunition
+would give out sooner or later. Then,
+of course, would come capture&mdash;but he wouldn’t
+look that far ahead.</p>
+
+<p>During the afternoon several men approached,
+one of them displaying a white handkerchief,
+which he waved to and fro. When the men
+reached the bottom of the hill they dismounted
+and one made his way slowly up, shouting now
+and again, “It’s me, Jim&mdash;Joe Ludlow.” Cutler
+made his way down the path and, suddenly
+coming upon Ludlow, ordered him to throw up
+his hands. The man did so, saying, “Jim, you
+and I have been friends for fifteen years; believe
+me, I’m unarmed; I want to talk to you&mdash;trust
+me.” Thereupon Cutler lowered his rifle, and
+the two men shook hands. Then followed a
+long confab, during which Ludlow did his
+utmost to get Cutler to surrender. He said
+Sheriff Benson was prepared to starve Cutler
+out, or get him at all costs. It would only
+mean loss of life and must eventually result in
+the fugitive’s capture. Ludlow said that he, with
+half-a-dozen “pals,” would assure Cutler a safe
+return to Three Corners, sending Benson and
+all the rest on ahead. Then Cutler could stand
+his trial, and, with a good lawyer from Butte to
+defend him, would no doubt stand a chance of
+some sort.</p>
+
+<p>Cutler listened patiently; then he shook his
+head.</p>
+
+<p>“I know what’s coming to me, Joe,” he said;
+“they have been after me for years in a quiet
+way. Now they want my life, but they sha’n’t
+have it&mdash;at least not until I’ve paved the way
+with a few of them.”</p>
+
+<p>Ludlow was a very decent sort of fellow, and
+he tried his utmost to convince Cutler that his
+argument was a good one. Cutler then took
+the man into his confidence, and, Ludlow
+promising not to say a word to those below, he
+was told the whole story&mdash;told of Miss Thurloe’s
+complaints, the episode at the school-house, the
+shooting of Cutler’s horse, and everything.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I’m jiggered!” cried Ludlow, when
+the tale was finished. “Why didn’t you let us
+know this in the first place?” He then informed
+the gambler that he would ride back to
+Three Corners and explain the situation to the
+schoolmistress. She had only to tell her story
+to the judge, he said, and it was a certainty he
+would interfere in some way. Cutler demurred,
+but Ludlow bluntly told him to “go to h&mdash;&mdash;;
+he wasn’t going to see a good man hounded to
+death.” With that, turning on his heel, he left
+without another word.</p>
+
+<p>Going back to the camp, Ludlow informed
+Sheriff Benson that under no circumstances
+ought he to attempt to take Cutler, and asked
+him to await his return from Three Corners.
+Benson replied, “I want none of your conversation,
+Ludlow; Cutler is a downright murderer,
+and I mean to have him.”</p>
+
+<p>Ludlow, disdaining further argument, rode off
+at full speed toward the little town where all the
+trouble had occurred.</p>
+
+<p>Not knowing just what card Ludlow had up
+his sleeve, the sheriff decided to make quick
+work of Cutler’s capture. He therefore sent a
+party of deputies to Malvern, the nearest telegraph
+station, and in the name of the law asked
+the county militia to send him some men with
+a mountain gun, the property of private
+individuals who practised soldiering as a pastime.
+Each State in America, it may be said in
+passing, possesses several such regiments, which
+are available in war-time, although in no way
+a part of the Government organization, and
+having no connection with the State militia. It
+would have been useless to attempt to dislodge
+Cutler as matters stood, but Benson believed
+that a few shots from a cannon might have the
+desired effect. When his message was received
+at Malvern it created a sensation. Business was
+for the nonce neglected and everybody&mdash;men,
+women, and children&mdash;made their way toward
+the sheriffs camp at Table Hill.</p>
+
+<p>Several attempts were made to parley with
+Cutler, without success, and so three days went
+by. On the afternoon of the fourth day the
+refugee on the rock was thunderstruck to see a
+body of soldiers approaching from the south,
+with a field gun hauled by four horses. He did
+not know whether to laugh or to regard this
+seriously. Surely the officers of the law would
+not resort to bombarding him with a cannon?
+Soon the soldiers reached the camp, and about
+an hour later Cutler saw that the gun, a howitzer,
+was being trained on the hill where he lay
+enjoying a smoke. There was no chance of his
+getting away other than by the path by which he
+had come. Behind him there was a sheer drop
+of hundreds of feet into the gully far below.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_321">321</span>
+True, he could descend some distance down the
+mountain-side, but if the besiegers really meant
+business this would not help him much.
+Nothing was done that day, but Cutler kept
+vigilant watch all through the night. He had
+regularly built a huge fire some way down the
+mountain-side, which was protected by trees to
+some extent, but
+lit up the path
+for a considerable
+distance.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i008.jpg">
+<img src="images/i008.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">“IF YOU SO MUCH AS WINK YOUR EYE I’LL PUT A HOLE IN YOU.”</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>The next
+morning a party
+numbering a
+dozen came toward
+the hill
+again bearing a
+white flag. They
+stopped some
+distance off, one
+man only continuing&mdash;Benson,
+the Sheriff of
+Beulah County,
+himself. Cutler
+allowed him to
+approach much
+nearer than had
+Ludlow; then
+he covered the
+advancing sheriff
+with his rifle.</p>
+
+<p>“Cutler, if we
+haven’t rushed
+this place,” said
+Benson, “it is
+only because I
+did not want to
+sacrifice human
+lives, knowing
+full well that
+sooner or later
+you must give
+up. I know you
+are on the
+square, so I’ve
+come up unarmed,
+being
+sure you wouldn’t
+take advantage of
+the white flag. I’m only doing my duty. I give
+you this chance to come back with me, otherwise
+I’m afraid they’ll blow this place up and
+you with it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Regular war, isn’t it?” replied Cutler,
+smilingly.</p>
+
+<p>“Looks like it,” admitted the sheriff.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, seeing you are trying that game, I’ll
+just do a little in the war line myself,” said
+Cutler. “You walk up this path towards me,
+and if you so much as wink your eye I’ll put a
+hole in you that a tramcar could go through!”</p>
+
+<p>The sheriff could hardly believe his ears.
+“Don’t be a fool, Cutler,” he said, angrily.</p>
+
+<p>“Never mind about my being a fool; you
+do as you’re told or I’ll drop you quick.”</p>
+
+<p>Benson evidently
+had no
+doubts about
+the matter, for,
+though beside
+himself with
+rage, he promptly
+did as Cutler
+ordered. The
+sheriff was forced
+to walk ahead,
+and no doubt,
+had his captor
+been almost any
+other man than
+Jim Cutler, there
+would have been
+one big fight on
+Table Hill, gun
+or no gun, but
+Benson knew
+that Cutler would
+do just as he
+said he would.
+Arrived at the
+top, Benson was
+forced to write a
+note saying that
+he was a captive,
+and that perhaps
+it would be just
+as well not to fire
+the cannon in
+the direction it
+was now trained.
+Furthermore, one
+man was to
+approach the
+hill with food,
+whisky, and tobacco.
+The note
+was then secured
+to a large stone by
+the aid of Sheriff Benson’s braces, and while
+Cutler “stood by” Benson was ordered to throw
+this stone toward the deputy in charge of the waiting
+horsemen below. This man, or one of those
+with him, picked up the stone, and read the
+message to the others. There was a great laugh
+below&mdash;plainly heard by the two men on the
+ledge&mdash;and, needless to say, the merriment of
+his assistants did not add to Benson’s peace of
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_322">322</span>
+mind. Cutler now laid his rifle down, first
+having drawn a six-shooter. Then, approaching
+Benson, he searched him for concealed firearms,
+but the sheriff was unarmed. The latter
+was now told to sit down and make himself
+comfortable at the opening which led to the
+path, Cutler being thereby able to watch
+both his prisoner and the approach from
+below. Soon a solitary figure came from
+the camp, carrying the food “ordered.” It
+was brought as near as Cutler permitted it to
+be, and then Benson, under cover of the rifle,
+was sent to fetch it. It looked for a moment as
+though there might be a fight after all, but
+Cutler’s business-like demeanour soon caused
+his prisoner to change his mind.</p>
+
+<p>With the food there was a note, reading,
+“Are we to wait for you or not?” This did
+not appeal to the sheriff’s sense of humour, and
+he tore the paper into shreds.</p>
+
+<p>Just at sundown a large cloud of dust was
+noticed in the distance, which soon turned out
+to be a number of mounted men with a wagon,
+or “prairie schooner.” The new-comers were
+presently merged with those in camp, and not
+long afterwards two men, escorting a woman,
+rode slowly toward Table Hill. Again the
+white flag was raised, and a voice shouted from
+below, “Hi, Jim, it’s me&mdash;Ludlow.”</p>
+
+<p>Cutler permitted his friend to approach, and
+when he gained the ledge Ludlow had a hard
+struggle to restrain his laughter at the unfortunate
+sheriff’s predicament.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve brought some news for you, Jim,” said
+Ludlow. “That school-ma’am is a brick, and
+no mistake. When I told her how things stood,
+she came right to the front, and not only saw
+Judge Nolan, but drove twenty miles to see
+Governor Hill, and here’s the result.”</p>
+
+<p>Ludlow then handed Sheriff Benson an
+official communication paroling Cutler in his
+own recognizances pending investigation of
+Miss Thurloe’s story. Western men are
+nothing if not intensely chivalrous, and, if this
+girl’s story was correct, Cutler, in their estimation,
+deserved, not death, but a medal.</p>
+
+<p>The amazed sheriff scratched his head and
+Cutler seemed undecided, but Ludlow grasped
+his hand eagerly. “Come on, old fellow, down
+to the sea-level,” he cried. This broke the
+tension, and all three men smiled.</p>
+
+<p>“There is nothing for me to do but obey
+this, Cutler,” said the sheriff, slowly; “but I’ll
+tell you straight I don’t feel like doing it.”</p>
+
+<p>Ludlow turned to Benson and informed him
+that Judge Nolan had made him a Court officer,
+the tenure of his office being thirty days, and
+that he would brook no interference from
+Benson or anyone else. That settled it. The
+trio walked down the path, where Miss Thurloe,
+with tears in her eyes, thanked Cutler for his
+brave and manly action on her behalf. She
+said that she had reason to believe he would be
+acquitted, and that, as no warrant had been
+issued for his arrest until after he had shot the
+men who had attempted to stop him, it must be
+a case of self-defence.</p>
+
+<p>Cutler was received with cheers by the crowd
+in camp&mdash;the same men who were thirsting for
+his blood an hour before&mdash;and soon everybody
+was seeking the nearest way home, and the
+scene of action was shortly deserted. It is not
+possible to chronicle that Jim Cutler was
+triumphantly acquitted at his trial. His
+character went strongly against him&mdash;that is to
+say, the fact that he had previously figured in
+“shooting scrapes”&mdash;but, nevertheless, his
+sentence was a comparatively light one. The
+State’s attorney (analogous to counsel for the
+Crown) laid great stress on the fact of
+Cutler’s having visited Goldman’s shop,
+obviously seeking trouble, when he should have
+reported the attempt on his life to the authorities.
+He was sentenced to five years in the State
+prison, but was pardoned at the expiration of
+eleven months. He is now living in Butte, the
+capital of the State of Montana, where he has
+opened a saloon. Miss Thurloe left Three
+Corners, and is believed to be teaching in
+Pittsburg, U.S.A.</p>
+
+<p>The local newspapers poked much fun at the
+soldiers who took their cannon miles out to
+bombard what they jocularly called “a one-man
+army”; but all the same they meant business, and
+had matters not ended as they did there would
+have been a change in the landscape just there,
+for the top of Table Hill would in all probability
+have been blown to pieces, and Jim Cutler with it.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i009.jpg">
+<img src="images/i009.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_323">323</span></div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<h2 id="Photographing_a_Volcano_in_Eruption">Photographing a Volcano in Eruption.<br />
+
+<span class="smcap medium">By Frank Davey.</span></h2>
+
+<blockquote>
+
+<p>A vivid description of a photographer’s adventures in securing pictures of the eruption of Makuaweoweo,
+in Hawaii. With pen and camera Mr. Davey depicts the awe inspiring grandeur of the lake of fire in
+the crater of Mauna Loa, the pyrotechnic display afforded by the active cone on the mountain-side, and
+the horrors of night amid the lava-wastes, where death menaced the party on every hand.</p></blockquote>
+
+<div>
+<img class="drop-cap" src="images/o.jpg" alt="O" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">On</span> Tuesday, July 1, 1899, reports
+reached Honolulu, Hawaiian Islands,
+that the volcano of Makuaweoweo,
+situated at the summit of Mauna
+Loa, thirteen thousand six hundred
+and seventy-five feet high, on the island of
+Hawaii, had burst forth with all the fury of
+years gone by. I was anxious to get some
+photographs of the eruption if possible, and so
+made all the haste I could to get my paraphernalia
+together and catch the steamer <i>W. H.
+Hall</i>, bound for Hawaii.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i010.jpg">
+<img src="images/i010.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">“PAHOEHOE” LAVA, WHICH APPEARS AS THOUGH IT HAD COOLED WHILE FLOWING QUIETLY.<br />
+<i>From a Photograph.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>I left with the intention of reaching the scene
+of action from the Kau side of the island, but
+when, upon arriving at Kailua, Kona, I telegraphed
+to Mr. N. S. Monsarrat, at Kapapalu,
+I found that he had a house full of guests bent
+on the same journey, and that all his horses had
+been engaged. Rather than lose time, therefore,
+I decided to take the most difficult route
+of all&mdash;right over the great mountain from the
+Kona side. The obstacles to be overcome may
+perhaps be imagined when I state that Mauna
+Loa is a volcanic mountain, nearly fourteen
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_324">324</span>
+thousand feet high, and that one has to make
+one’s way for the entire distance over every kind
+of lava formation.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i011.jpg">
+<img src="images/i011.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">“A. A.” LAVA, WHICH LOOKS AS THOUGH IT HAD SOLIDIFIED WHILE TOSSING LIKE A SEA IN A STORM AND THEN BEEN BROKEN
+UP BY EARTHQUAKES.<br />
+[<i>From a Photograph</i>.]</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>It was with great difficulty that I managed to
+get horses and mules from the natives, who knew
+the condition of the country, for the animals
+inevitably get badly knocked about, their legs
+being terribly cut by the lava, which is divided
+into two classes&mdash;“Pahoehoe” and “A. A.”
+The former term is applied to tracts of comparatively
+smooth lava, which appears as though
+it had cooled while flowing quietly; the latter is
+applied to stretches of broken lava which seem to
+have cooled when tossing like an ocean in a bad
+storm, and to have afterwards been broken up
+by earthquakes. No words of description can
+convey an idea of its roughness and hardness,
+which may be faintly realized from an inspection
+of the above photograph.</p>
+
+<p>During the time I was hunting for horses a
+number of gentlemen arrived and expressed
+their desire to join me in the expedition. I was
+only too pleased to have their company, so five
+travellers threw in their lot with me: Professor
+Ingalls, Colonel McCarthy, and Messrs. Sterns
+Buck, J. Ballard, and H. C. Klugel. These,
+with three guides, completed our party.</p>
+
+<p>We were up early the next morning. The
+first part of the journey was one of the most
+delightful rides I ever had. We rode for hours
+through magnificent tropical growths. There
+were giant ferns, some of which must have been
+thirty or forty feet high and three feet in
+diameter, groves of guavas, coco-nuts, and other
+fruits, miles of wild mint and bright-coloured
+flowers, and orchids of most delicate shapes.</p>
+
+<p>At dusk we reached the edge of the timber-line,
+in a drenching rain, a downpour such as is
+experienced only in the tropics, where the rain
+descends in sheets. We ate our supper and
+then spent the night huddled miserably together,
+trying in vain to keep dry.</p>
+
+<p>We resumed our journey at daybreak, over the
+most terrible country that can be imagined. The
+sharp edges of the lava cut through our stout
+boots like broken glass, and the poor animals
+suffered greatly. Still, however, we persevered,
+and finally reached the summit just as it was
+getting dark. Near the centre of the mountain-top
+an area of about four square miles sinks to
+a depth of one thousand feet. This is the great
+crater of Makuaweoweo, which we had endured
+so much to see.</p>
+
+<p>As I stood there in the cold, in the midst of
+those cheerless and God-forsaken wastes, I gazed
+down with speechless awe upon the untrammelled
+frolics of the God of Fire. The tempest-tossed
+lake of molten lava below the rim of the great
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_325">325</span>
+cauldron was a typical workshop of Vulcan.
+The face of the lake of liquid fire alternated
+continually between black and white, like molten
+iron in a furnace. Oxidation and cooling of the
+fiery fluid would blacken the surface with a
+pall that covered it in darkest gloom; then
+a trembling, caused by further subterranean
+outbursts of steam, would break this ice-like
+oxide into a fretwork of tens of thousands of
+incandescent cracks, lighting up the smoke-charged
+pit with a fierce glare. Another
+moment, and in different parts of the lake
+geysers of fire of every imaginable colour would
+rise like fountains in a public garden.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i012.jpg">
+<img src="images/i012.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">THE AUTHOR SURVEYING THE CRATER OF MAKUAWEOWEO FROM A PINNACLE OF LAVA.<br />
+<i>From a Photograph.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>The great forbidding-looking walls of this
+“home of everlasting fire” sparkled with the
+unusual light, and then, as the spouts of flame
+died away, the surface would again turn black,
+leaving the whole mass to all appearances dead.</p>
+
+<p>We found that the worst outbreak was about
+five thousand feet farther down the mountain-side.
+Some of our party were seized with such
+a sickness of horror at the crater’s edge that
+they rolled themselves up in their blankets and
+refused to look down upon this fiery maelstrom&mdash;and
+that after two days of arduous
+effort to reach a point of view!</p>
+
+<p>When the time came for sleep, another man
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_326">326</span>
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_327">327</span>
+and I turned into a “blowhole” in the lava; it
+was an immense bubble that had cooled and
+left an opening so that we could crawl in. We
+little thought that there was another hole at the
+other end, and the piercing wind blew through
+this like a funnel; but we had to stay there, for
+it is dangerous to wander about over the rifts
+and chasms of jagged lava in the darkness.
+Here, in this strange bed-chamber, we slept, or
+tried to sleep&mdash;shivering and shuddering through
+the chilly solitude of the night in those desolate
+mountain wastes.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i013.jpg">
+<img src="images/i013.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">THE CRATER OF MAKUAWEOWEO, SHOWING THE AWFUL LAKE OF LIQUID FIRE.<br />
+<i>From a Photograph.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Walking across the congealed masses of lava
+next morning, one began to think that at any
+moment one was liable to drop through to the
+very gates of Hades and be precipitated to the
+most horrible of deaths. Underneath one was
+a bottomless abyss of mud, sulphur, and rock;
+and to contemplate being cast into that fearsome-looking
+lake of fire and brimstone was not
+at all comfortable. The Biblical description of
+hell does not convey even a faint idea of that
+terrible lake of fire below us, which appeared to
+be fretting and fuming as though anxious to get
+loose and destroy everything in its path. The
+crater of Makuaweoweo at that time, without
+doubt, afforded the spectator a more awe-inspiring
+display of the forces of Nature than
+has been granted to man elsewhere on earth
+without the sacrifice of life.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i014.jpg">
+<img src="images/i014.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">THE AUTHOR AND HIS COMPANIONS AS THEY APPEARED JUST BEFORE LEAVING THEIR HORSES TO VISIT THE WORST OUTBREAK.<br />
+<i>From a Photograph.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Soon after daylight we prepared for the
+descent to the point that was throwing out
+molten lava at a white heat. It was practically
+impossible to take the horses farther, so we
+tethered them to stones near the yawning depths
+of Makuaweoweo, and left one of the guides to
+look after them. We were very thirsty, but it was
+some time before we could find water, though
+snow and ice were plentiful. Farther down,
+however, we discovered water in a deep crack
+in the lava, filled the canteens, and started on
+our downward journey. I was suffering from
+mountain sickness; my head felt as if it would
+burst and my stomach was upside down. We
+stumbled along with difficulty for about two
+miles, when I had to get the assistance of Mr.
+Buck to carry my camera. Two of our party
+who had started out in advance gave it up and
+returned&mdash;they could not stand the strain of the
+rough travelling. This left but four of us, with
+two guides.</p>
+
+<p>Presently we reached a cone where the lava
+had piled up to the height of about one hundred
+feet, then, bursting out at the side, disappeared
+into the ground, to reappear about a quarter of
+a mile farther down and repeat its action. These
+cones averaged two hundred feet in width at the
+base and one hundred feet in height, and we
+passed five “dead” ones. A sixth was still
+smoking, but was not active. Two of the party
+tried to climb to the top of this cone, but were
+unable to do so.</p>
+
+<p>We then pushed on to cone number seven,
+which was belching forth huge volumes of steam
+and sulphur. The fumes, most fortunately,
+were being blown away from us. At this stage
+one of the guides refused to go any farther; it
+was too dangerous, he said, so he proceeded to
+retrace his steps, while we others continued our
+journey toward cone number eight. This was
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_328">328</span>
+the last and largest, and was, I should estimate,
+about two hundred feet high; in fact, a veritable
+miniature volcano, spouting red-hot lava a
+hundred feet in the air with a ripping boom that
+could be heard for miles. Boulders that must
+have weighed a ton were being hurled high into
+the air as if shot from a cannon. Others followed
+to meet those coming down, and as they met
+they burst like explosive shells, scattering molten
+matter on all sides. This flowed down the
+incline in cascades like water, showing red,
+yellow, blue, and all the colours of the rainbow.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i015.jpg">
+<img src="images/i015.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">TWO OF THE “DEAD” CONES PASSED BY THE PARTY.<br />
+<i>From a Photograph.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>It is impossible to describe the grandeur of
+the effect, and a knowledge of the force that
+was causing the display made one feel very
+small indeed. Some of the ejected masses were
+as large as a horse, and when they were belched
+forth were at a white heat. They went so high
+that they had time to cool and return to the
+vortex black.</p>
+
+<p>It was three o’clock in the afternoon when we
+reached this wonderful display. It had taken
+us nine hours to reach the volcano, and we were
+thirsty and well-nigh exhausted. We could not
+approach very near on account of the heat, but
+I made some photographic exposures, and then
+sat for an hour watching the wonderful sight.
+As the sun went down the magnificence of the
+scene increased. The ground shook at each
+explosion to such an extent as to make us sick.
+We found quantities of what is known as “Pele’s
+hair.”<a id="FNanchor_1" href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">1</a> It is caused by the wind blowing the
+liquid lava through the air, forming fine threads
+like human hair.</p>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+
+<p><a id="Footnote_1" href="#FNanchor_1" class="label">1</a>
+Pele, according to the native legends, is the goddess of the
+volcano, and dwells in the crater.</p></div>
+
+<p>As we approached cone number seven on our
+return journey the wind changed, and to our
+consternation we saw a cloud of sulphur blowing
+right across our path. These masses of vapour
+are so impregnated with sulphur and poisonous
+gases that it is impossible for any living thing to
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_329">329</span>
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_330">330</span>
+exist among them, and to get caught in their
+midst means death. Alarmed, we started to go
+around the other side, but found the lava was
+too hot; the surface was cool, but there was
+living fire beneath, and we dared not proceed.
+We kept on until the lava began to move under
+our feet, and then beat a retreat to face the
+sulphur again, for it was better to be smothered
+to death than slowly roasted.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i016.jpg">
+<img src="images/i016.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">CONE “NUMBER SEVEN”&mdash;IT WAS ABOUT TWO HUNDRED FEET HIGH, A MINIATURE VOLCANO, SPOUTING RED-HOT LAVA AND GIANT BOULDERS WITH A ROAR THAT COULD
+BE HEARD FOR MILES.<br />
+<i>From a Photograph.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>We made a number of attempts to pass that
+deadly barrier of vapour, but were forced to
+return each time, nearly suffocated. It looked
+as though we should soon be choked to death&mdash;the
+fire at the back of us, the sulphur in front.
+Professor Ingalls remarked that we had better
+make the best of our time by taking notes, and
+then prepare for the worst. Just at this critical
+moment I happened to turn round and saw an
+arch, as it were, in the sulphur smoke, where the
+wind was blowing it up from the ground.</p>
+
+<p>“Look! look!” I shouted, in great excitement.
+“Run for it!” And how we ran!
+Providence gave us the chance and fear lent us
+strength, for under ordinary circumstances we
+could never have run as we did, owing to the
+condition of our feet. The danger, however,
+made us forget the pain, and we ran for dear life.
+We had scarcely got through that arch of clear
+air when down came the cloud again, as though
+lowered by some great power. The only guide
+who had stayed with us fell exhausted at the
+edge of the vapour-mass. How I managed to
+drag him along I do not know; I hardly realized
+what I was doing, but I managed to save him.</p>
+
+<p>Once past the danger-point we crawled along
+at our best pace, for at any moment the wind
+might turn in our direction, when we should be
+again overtaken by that terrible death-cloud. I
+had left my camera behind in our wild flight,
+but fortunately I saved several plates.</p>
+
+<p>It was now night, and the only light we had
+was the lurid glare from the volcano. Suddenly,
+as we stumbled painfully along, we came upon a
+man sitting by the side of a dead cone; it was
+the guide who had returned. He said he did
+not expect to see us alive again, for he had seen
+the deadly smoke blow across the mountain.</p>
+
+<p>If it had not been for the light from the
+volcano we should undoubtedly have perished of
+cold and thirst, as we should have been compelled
+to stop walking. As it was, we dared not
+halt for any length of time, or we should not
+have had warmth enough to keep the blood
+circulating. All that night we crawled over
+that terrible lava. We fell down at intervals of
+about twenty feet, often breaking through the
+black crust, sometimes up to our waists, cutting
+ourselves on the sharp projections until our
+hands and legs were woefully lacerated. Almost
+as soon as we fell we dropped asleep; then, as
+we got colder, we would wake up and force ourselves
+on again for a few dozen yards or so, only
+to fall asleep, wake, and struggle up once more.
+The agony of the situation and the pain of our
+wounds were enough to make a man go insane.</p>
+
+<p>At last it began to get light, but still we had
+come across no water, and that in our canteens
+had long since been exhausted. Very few
+people, fortunately, know what it means to have
+their throats and lips so swollen and cracked that
+they are bleeding for want of water. I could
+scarcely speak. We hunted the depths and
+crevices of the lava, sometimes going down ten
+or fifteen feet, looking for water, only to be
+disappointed again and again. At last I got so
+weak that Mr. Buck had to take my package of
+plates off my back, where I had tied them.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly I saw a break in the lava nearly full
+of beautiful water. I pulled Mr. Buck’s arm,
+pointing to it, and mumbled, “Water.” Slowly
+he pulled off his coat and started to climb down
+the crack. It was about eight feet wide, narrowing
+to three. I leaned over the side, holding
+the canteen for Mr. Buck to fill. He went
+down a few feet, and then stopped. I
+motioned to him to fill the bottle, croaking,
+“Water.” He did not look around, but mumbled,
+“I see no water,” as if in a dream. Picking up
+a piece of lava, I tossed it down and cried
+hoarsely, “<i>There</i> is the water.” But to my
+astonishment the pebble went down, down,
+down, out of sight, with no sound of a splash,
+into a fathomless abyss. The crevice was so
+deep that we could not see the bottom, and the
+shock of the discovery made me faint. How
+Sterns Buck managed to return he does not
+remember; it is a wonder he did not fall, to be
+mangled upon the sharp corners of lava.</p>
+
+<p>I came to my senses dazed and almost
+bewildered, and Buck and I sat motionless for
+some time staring at each other. After a time
+we scrambled on again until we came upon the
+guide sitting upon the edge of a high crack,
+eating frozen snow, and tearing at it with his
+teeth like a hungry dog. We followed his
+example, not without pain, but the snow tasted
+good.</p>
+
+<p>Some of the party who had previously returned
+met us near the summit with coffee. When
+they saw us coming they got things ready so as
+to make us as comfortable as possible. After
+washing our lacerated hands and feet we took a
+good sleep, and awoke much refreshed. The
+journey home was, comparatively speaking, easy,
+but the memory of that night amidst the lava
+will last me to my dying day.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_331">331</span></p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<div class="figcenter">
+<img id="Our_Leopard_Hunt" src="images/i018.jpg"
+alt="Our Leopard Hunt." />
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap medium">By Thomas B. Marshall.</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<blockquote>
+
+<p>An exciting story told by a former official of the Gold Coast Government. With a friend and some
+natives he went out to shoot a marauding leopard. They accomplished their mission, but before the
+day was over one and all of the party had received a good deal more than they bargained for.</p></blockquote>
+
+<div>
+<img class="drop-cap" src="images/i.jpg" alt="I" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">In</span> 1899, while in the service of
+the Gold Coast Government, and
+stationed at Kumasi, I received
+orders “per bearer, who will accompany
+you,” to proceed to a point on
+Volta not far south of where it
+debouches from among the Saraga Hills.
+“The bearer,” a nice young fellow called
+Strange, was newly arrived in the colony, and
+his pleasant home gossip was not less welcome
+to me than my information about the country
+we were in was to him. Our rough forest
+journey, then, passed as pleasantly as such
+journeys can, and by the time we arrived at our
+destination we were the best of friends.</p>
+
+<p>Akroful, a town of about seven hundred
+inhabitants, was the nearest place of any size to
+the spot where we pitched our camp, and we
+were soon on good terms with its headman,
+Otibu Daku, and his son, Dansani, both of
+whom put us in the way of some good shooting.</p>
+
+<p>We had been in this place about a fortnight,
+when we began to be annoyed by the depredations
+of a marauding leopard, who took to
+visiting our live-stock pens, and at last we
+decided to lie in wait for him. I took the first
+watch until a snake crawled over my legs; then
+I went to bed. It was a harmless one, but it
+reminded me of the need of precaution, so next
+night found our lair surrounded by a very
+uninviting floor of cactus leaves.</p>
+
+<p>The fourth night after our vigil commenced
+Strange succeeded in wounding our sell-invited
+guest, and we determined to track him down as
+soon as it was light. Otibu Daku and his son
+willingly agreed to help us; and I took, in
+addition, two of my own men who would, I
+knew, “stand fire”&mdash;Ashong Tawiah, an Accra
+man, and Nyato, my chief steward-boy, a
+Krooman.</p>
+
+<p>The two Ashantis led the way, Otibu Daku
+carrying a “long Dane” gun; his son, a
+machete. Tawiah and Nyato also carried
+machetes, and the former, on leaving camp, had
+picked up a broad-bladed Hausa spear. Strange
+and I each had a repeating rifle and a revolver,
+for, as Nyato told me, “Dem headman, ’e say,
+plenty tiger lib dem part.”</p>
+
+<p>The trail was easy to follow. There was not
+much blood, but the ground was soft from
+recent rain. It was rough going, however, and
+the machetes were constantly at work clearing
+a way. Up and down small watersheds,
+squelching through marshy bottoms, crossing
+streams on fallen trees, we frequently lost the
+track, but by some sort of instinct our guides
+always found it again.</p>
+
+<p>At last, after descending a more than usually
+steep incline, we found ourselves in a valley of
+some size. The bush here was very thin, and
+we progressed without difficulty until we came
+in sight of the inevitable stream, the opposite
+bank of which, rising steeply, evidently formed
+the commencement of the next divide. I was
+about a dozen yards to Strange’s right; the
+ground was clear of bush between us and the
+stream; and on the nearer bank, his head overhanging
+the water, lay our quarry, clearly dying.
+But he was not alone. Stretched by his side,
+licking the wound that was letting out his life,
+lay a fine female leopard, evidently his consort.
+On seeing us she rose to her feet, snarling;
+she abandoned her ministrations and became
+militant&mdash;a defender-avenger. Strange fired
+hastily on sight, and a convulsive heave of the
+prostrate body showed where the bullet struck.
+With a light leap the leopardess cleared her
+mate, and with long, low springs raced down
+towards my friend. He fired again at thirty
+yards, wounding her, and she swerved slightly
+and came in my direction. We both fired
+together, whereupon she stopped suddenly,
+reared straight up, pawing the air&mdash;then fell
+backward, stone-dead.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_332">332</span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i019.jpg">
+<img src="images/i019.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">“SHE REARED STRAIGHT UP PAWING THE AIR&mdash;THEN FELL BACKWARD, STONE-DEAD.”</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Hardly had the double report died away
+when our attention was attracted to a movement
+on the other side of the stream. Tawiah
+pointed.</p>
+
+<p>“Oolah! tiger him piccin!” (“Master, the
+leopard’s cubs”), he cried. Slinking away downstream,
+with long, stealthy strides, their muzzles
+to the ground and tails trailing low, were two
+half-grown leopards, the head of one level with
+the other’s haunch.</p>
+
+<p>“Tally-ho!” cried Strange, and let fly at
+them. His one fault as a sportsman was a
+too great eagerness to get the first shot in.
+The white splinters flew from the buttress of a
+great cotton-wood, and the nearer cub, startled
+as never before, leapt a man’s height from the
+ground, and, coming down, raced away downstream
+after its companion.</p>
+
+<p>“Come on! We’ll bag the whole family,”
+said Strange, jumping into the stream. Otibu
+Daku was already across and I was about to
+follow, when I noticed, fluttering up the farther
+slope, one of those beautiful insects called the
+“dead leaf” butterfly. You will see one fluttering
+along like a fugitive piece of rainbow&mdash;then
+suddenly it will alight on a withered branch or
+heap of dead herbage and disappear, the underside
+of the wings being in shape, colour, and
+even veining an exact imitation of a withered
+leaf.</p>
+
+<p>I was an enthusiastic collector, and never
+went out without a folding net that could be
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_333">333</span>
+fixed to any fairly straight stick. Bidding
+Tawiah remain with me, then, I let the others
+go on after the cubs, and in a couple of minutes
+was in pursuit of my own particular quarry.
+The slope was nearly bare of bush, and I did
+not have much difficulty in making the capture.
+Placing it in a flat box containing some poison-wax,
+I took my rifle from Tawiah and went on up
+the hill, leaving him tying up a scratch on his leg.</p>
+
+<p>I was not quite easy in my mind. We had
+been too hasty in concluding that the cubs we
+had seen belonged to the leopards we had shot.
+They had been driven away too easily, and most
+likely were heading straight for their own den,
+where, at that time of day, the old ones would
+certainly be at home.</p>
+
+<p>I hurried on in the hope of getting some
+indication of my friend’s whereabouts. At the
+top of the ascent a soft breeze met me, it was
+pleasant and refreshing, but it brought that with
+it that made me drop flat behind a bush and
+throw my rifle forward. There is no mistaking
+the odour given off by the larger carnivora, and
+the strength of the smell that assailed my
+nostrils was such as to convince me that my
+first hasty thought&mdash;that I had headed off the
+cubs&mdash;was wrong. Such an effluvium could come
+only from a den, and an occupied one at that.</p>
+
+<p>There were three possibilities. It might be
+the home of the dead leopards, of the strange
+cubs we had seen, or the lair of yet a third
+family. I looked back. Tawiah was not in
+sight, but I knew he would follow. In front, for
+a hundred yards, the level crest of the ridge
+was covered by a sparse, wand-like growth that
+was no impediment to the view. Beyond the
+ground fell away again, and just on the edge,
+and rather to my right, stood two enormous
+cotton-woods, the space between them being a
+labyrinth of roots standing thigh-high from the
+ground.</p>
+
+<p>To this point, with what speed and silence I
+could command, I made my way. Midway
+I stopped abruptly to listen. A deep snarling,
+worrying sound filled the air, coming from
+straight ahead. Reaching the nearest root, I
+looked over. The rapidly falling ground
+beyond was hidden by a far-sweeping buttress
+from the tree on my left, which, running
+parallel with the one I stood against, made
+a passage about four feet wide and two high.
+Stealing away to the left, where the nearer root
+sank below the surface, I entered the passage,
+and, on all fours, reached a point midway
+between the two trees. The noise I had before
+heard was now very distinct, and, blending with
+it, yet dominating it, came a continuous buzzing
+sound like the far-away roll of a drum. I knew
+it for the purring of a full-grown leopard.</p>
+
+<p>Looking back, I was glad enough to see
+Tawiah reaching the level. I raised a warning
+hand, and, waiting only to see that he observed
+me, turned, and very cautiously looked over
+the root in front. From where I crouched
+the ground fell away very steeply and
+was bare and stony. Then began a gentler
+slope covered with a low scrub and running
+down into a valley similar to, but larger than,
+the one we had just left. Down the centre
+flowed a stream, the same on whose banks,
+higher up, we had left the dead leopards. I
+was on a kind of spur, round which the stream
+made a bend away to my right. To my left it
+lost itself in an expanse of shallow water covered
+with great water-lilies, which merged in its turn
+into the stream of the Volta, half a mile away.</p>
+
+<p>Just where the change of slope began was a
+great outcrop of rock. About a foot above the
+base, and facing me, was a ragged opening, and
+in this, with both paws hanging over the edge,
+lounged a fine she-leopard. The air hummed
+with her complacent purr, as, with blinking
+eyes, she watched the rough play of two well-grown
+cubs. Presently she rolled over on her
+back, and, with downward-hanging head, struck
+idly with a mighty paw at a white butterfly
+flitting above her. She was the personification
+of soft and sinuous strength.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly, away to the right, a shot rang out.
+The purring ceased, and instantly the great cat
+was couched, rigid as a bronze casting. Except
+for the tip of her tail, not a muscle moved.
+Presently the tense expression relaxed, and
+with a guttural sort of sigh her head dropped
+on to her paws. But only for an instant.
+The stealthy rustling of something approaching
+reached her ears, and she resumed
+her alert attitude. Then her eyes half closed
+again, and she seemed to go smooth all over.
+A suave, fawning expression came into her face;
+her purring redoubled; she rolled softly on to
+her side and gazed intently in the direction of
+the sound. The noise came nearer, and
+presently, as I expected, her mate appeared.
+He paused for an instant to look back, and
+at that moment Strange’s rifle spoke again, and
+the leopard sank down, biting savagely at his
+hind-quarters. With one movement as it
+seemed, and with a sort of deep-throated cough,
+his consort was by his side, and then began an
+awful duet of snarls and growls, rumblings and
+snufflings, with the cubs for chorus.</p>
+
+<p>It was high time for me to take action; a
+wounded leopard and a leopardess with young
+can make themselves pretty awkward. I aimed
+at the female as being the more dangerous, and
+was about to pull the trigger, when a movement
+in the valley attracted my attention. One of
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_334">334</span>
+the cubs we had first seen was tearing across the
+open, making for the stream. Some distance
+behind followed the other, evidently wounded.
+Close upon him ran Dansani, machete in hand.
+As I looked the cub turned and Dansani struck.
+Nyato was close behind, and level with him,
+but farther out, Otibu Daku stole swiftly with
+long, bent-kneed strides, his “long Dane” gun
+held across his body. Strange was not in sight.</p>
+
+<p>The foremost cub was nearly at the stream
+when he raised a howl of fear or of warning, I
+do not know which. On the instant, from a
+clump of bushes on the farther side, there leapt
+two greyish-white forms. Clearing the stream, they
+charged straight down on the young Ashanti.</p>
+
+<p>All this was photographed on my brain while
+my finger was on the trigger. The scene was
+blotted out as I fired, and from that moment I
+had enough on my hands to occupy my
+undivided attention. The leopardess was
+killed outright. The next instant I fired at
+the male, but one of the cubs gave a jump
+and received the bullet meant for his sire.
+How the brute did it I do not know&mdash;for he
+had a broken thigh-bone&mdash;but next moment the
+old leopard was tearing up the slope towards me,
+and very business-like he looked. I fired again
+and clipped his ear; then his claws were hooked
+on to the root in front of me, and all I could
+do was to smash the butt, pile-driver fashion,
+down upon his head. He seized it in his jaws,
+and the hard wood cracked like pitch-pine,
+while the wrench nearly tore the weapon from
+my grasp. He gave me no time to reverse
+it for another shot, or to draw my revolver.
+Four times did he struggle to draw himself up,
+and but for his broken leg I could not have
+prevented him. Four times, luckily for me, he
+allowed his fury to vent itself on the rifle-butt.
+The struggle only lasted seconds, but it seemed
+hours, and already the fury of it made my
+breath come short.</p>
+
+<p>And then the cub decided to take a hand!
+It had been pacing to and fro, snuffing the
+blood and growling; it then suddenly turned,
+and dashed straight to the scene of combat. A
+leopard cub by itself is not more than a man
+can manage, but as a reinforcement to an
+infuriated parent it is a serious matter. I heard
+Tawiah behind me.</p>
+
+<p>“Take the piccin,” I yelled, and put all my
+strength into an effort to thrust my foe back.
+Instinctively he tried to use his injured leg, and
+this time he lost grip altogether, and his claws
+scraped down the root, making great furrows
+in the wood. I let him have the gun, and
+seized my revolver in time to plant a couple of
+bullets in his head as he came up again.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile Tawiah had accounted for the
+cub, but he was badly clawed down the leg.
+To my surprise&mdash;for I did not remember the
+brute using his claws at all except to hold on by&mdash;my
+coat was ripped, and I had several nasty,
+but not severe, scratches down chest and arms.</p>
+
+<p>Our attention was now diverted to the scene
+below, and what we saw sent us both down the
+slope as fast as we could race&mdash;Tawiah ahead.
+One cub lay dead&mdash;Dansani’s victim&mdash;and a few
+paces from it stood the young Ashanti, preparing
+to dodge the foremost of the parent
+leopards I had seen break cover. He sprang
+aside as it reached him, but the brute wheeled
+as if on a pivot and reared. Then came the
+crashing report of the “long Dane,” a fearful
+yell, and Dansani reeled away with his hands
+to his head, and fell. The leopard, roaring
+horribly, rolled over and over, apparently broken
+in two. Its mate, swerving at the report,
+turned and raced straight for Tawiah, who had
+just reached the level ground. I shouted
+to him to come back to me, thinking that
+revolver and spear together would match the
+furious brute, but apparently he did not understand,
+for, waving me to follow, he tore off to
+where, midway between him and the advancing
+leopard, stood a small Dequa palm. His
+object, I learnt afterwards, was to hold the
+leopard at bay there till help arrived. It was a
+mad idea, for the savage brute was covering
+three yards to one of his.</p>
+
+<p>Just at that moment I caught sight of Strange&mdash;hobbling
+along, supported by his rifle, five
+hundred yards away; there was no help to be
+expected from him. Nyato was rushing on to
+settle with the remaining cub, that, screaming,
+was alternately dashing towards its wounded
+dam and back to the stream. Otibu Daku was
+carrying Dansani to the water, and the female
+leopard, her hind quarters straddling like those
+of a frog, with the small of her back blown away
+and reared on her front legs, was rending the
+air with the most awful yells.</p>
+
+<p>The male passed the tree, and only about
+forty yards separated him from my faithful
+follower. I ran on. Trusting to luck, I fired
+two chambers, but without success. The distance
+between them decreased rapidly, and
+Tawiah, seeing the hopelessness of his position,
+grounded his spear, and, gripping it by the
+middle, backed up the butt with his knee in the
+hope that the brute would impale himself. Then
+I saw that Strange was kneeling, taking aim.
+He could never hit a running leopard at that
+range, I told myself; it would appear no bigger
+than a cat to him.</p>
+
+<p>I was twenty yards behind Tawiah, and barely
+ten separated him from the leopard, when a
+ball of smoke floated away from Strange’s rifle.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_335">335</span>
+I dared not hope, and Tawiah remained like a
+rock. Then, suddenly, the leopard halted, and&mdash;for
+all the world like a kitten chasing its own
+tail&mdash;spun round and round till we could hardly
+tell one end from the other. I sent two bullets
+as near the centre as I could, and Tawiah,
+charging in, drove his spear in at one side and
+out at the other. The battle was over.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i022.jpg">
+<img src="images/i022.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">“DANSANI REELED AWAY WITH HIS HANDS TO HIS HEAD, AND FELL.”</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>We found that Strange’s bullet had pierced
+the skin of the neck just where it joins the head,
+and had half stunned the animal. But what a
+glorious shot! I paced the distance to him; it
+was four hundred and sixty odd yards! He had
+made just a little too much allowance for speed,
+but what of that?</p>
+
+<p>Strange, it appeared, had stepped on a loose
+stone and strained his ankle badly. Poor
+Dansani was horribly mauled. The beast had
+clawed him from the crown of his head to the
+knee in one awful sweep. Half the scalp overhung
+his face, one eye was destroyed, the
+muscle of the upper arm was in ribbons, and
+the stroke, glancing from the elbow, had laid
+open his thigh to the knee. A revolver-shot
+finished his assailant. We did what we could
+for Dansani on the spot, and Nyato and his father
+carried him home on a hastily-constructed litter.
+Later he recovered, but was terribly disfigured.</p>
+
+<p>Tawiah and I took it in turns to help Strange
+along, and when we reached the spot where our
+first victims lay we found their young ones
+mewling over them. They slunk away, and we
+did not molest them. The cub Nyato had
+chased allowed self-preservation to triumph over
+filial affection, and got away also. My rifle was
+utterly ruined. And so ended our leopard hunt.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_336">336</span></p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<h2 id="TURTLE-FARMING">TURTLE-FARMING.<br />
+
+<span class="smcap medium">By H. J. Shepstone.</span></h2>
+
+<blockquote>
+
+<p>An interesting description of the way in which turtles are “farmed” in various parts of the world.
+The most up-to-date and scientifically-conducted of these curious establishments is that of Mr. Hattori,
+in Japan, where the snapping-turtle, the most vicious of his species, is bred and reared.</p></blockquote>
+
+<div>
+<img class="drop-cap" src="images/t.jpg" alt="T" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">That</span> strange creature, the turtle, is
+now receiving the attention of the
+farmer, and is being scientifically
+bred and reared in various parts of
+the world. Indeed, turtle-farming
+on a large scale is now carried on both in Japan
+and in America, while the great palisade enclosures
+on the shores in the West Indies,
+where turtles are confined until wanted for the
+London market, may well come under the same
+designation.</p>
+
+<p>Curiously enough, the species of turtle
+favoured respectively by the Japanese, Americans,
+and by English people are totally different.
+For instance, the Japanese
+farmer gives his attention
+to the propagation of the
+snapping-turtle and
+American to the
+diamond-backed
+terrapin, while
+the turtle soup
+so much prized
+by the wealthy
+and sought after
+by the sick in this
+country is made
+from the green
+turtle of the
+West Indies.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i023.jpg">
+<img src="images/i023.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">A GROUP OF YOUNG TURTLES JUST HATCHED.<br />
+<i>From a Photograph.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>The terrapin
+is quite a small
+creature, rather
+flat-backed and
+rounded in outline,
+its scales
+being marked
+by independent
+black patterns
+composed of many geometric
+figures placed one
+within another. At one
+time it was found in
+large quantities in the shallow bays and salt
+marshes along the Atlantic coast from Massachusetts
+to Texas. The discovery that its flesh
+made a delicious stew and an ideal soup,
+however, resulted in the creature being hunted
+so vigorously that to-day it is exceedingly scarce.
+Indeed, whereas a terrapin, seven inches in
+length, could be picked up a few years ago for a
+few cents, it would be difficult to secure one
+to-day for a five-pound note. It was this
+scarcity of the terrapin, and the big demand for
+it among the hotels and restaurants, that have
+led not a few enterprising men to establish farms,
+where these much-sought-after creatures are
+bred and reared for the
+market in large numbers.</p>
+
+<p>The terrapin being
+small, perfectly harmless,
+and requiring
+but a little pond
+of salt water to
+dwell in, there
+is nothing particularly
+exciting
+in farming it.
+Indeed, a terrapin
+“farm” consists
+merely of a
+number of small
+ponds or basins
+in which the
+creatures are
+confined according
+to their age
+and size. Thus,
+in the smaller
+ponds, we discover
+those just
+hatched from
+the eggs&mdash;curious little
+things not much bigger
+than a billiard ball. As
+they breed well, and it is
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_337">337</span>
+not necessary to keep the creature long before
+it is ready for the <i>chef</i>, terrapin farming may be
+described as a fairly remunerative business.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i024a.jpg">
+<img src="images/i024a.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">GENERAL VIEW OF MR. HATTORI’S TURTLE-FARM NEAR TOKIO, JAPAN.<br />
+<i>From a Photograph.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i024b.jpg">
+<img src="images/i024b.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">THE EMBANKMENT OF A “PARENTS’ POND”&mdash;EACH OF THE WIRE CIRCLETS HERE SHOWN COVERS A DEPOSIT OF EGGS.<br />
+<i>From a Photo. by M. Ichikawa, Japan.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Decidedly more up-to-date are the snapping-turtle
+farms of Mr. Hattori, situated just outside
+Tokio, the capital of Japan. The Japanese
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_338">338</span>
+people will proudly tell you that
+they are the only turtle farms in
+the world, but, as I have already
+shown, this is hardly correct.
+These farms were established
+some few years ago now, and are,
+without question, a great success.
+On an average, Mr. Hattori supplies
+to the hotels and restaurants
+of Japan over sixteen thousand
+turtles a year, while another five
+thousand are shipped to China.
+So far as the farm itself is concerned,
+it consists of a number of
+rectangular ponds, large and
+small, the larger ones having an
+area of fifteen to twenty thousand
+square feet.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i025a.jpg">
+<img src="images/i025a.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">YOUNG SNAPPING-TURTLES A FEW DAYS OLD&mdash;THEY
+ARE KEPT IN A SEPARATE ENCLOSURE
+IN ORDER THAT THEIR CANNIBALISTIC ELDERS
+MAY NOT DEVOUR THEM.<br />
+<i>From a Photo. by M. Ichikawa, Japan.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>One or more of the ponds is
+always reserved for large breeding
+individuals, or “parents,” as they
+are called, and one of the assistants
+visits this pond twice a day
+to look out for new deposits of
+eggs. Over these he places a wire
+basket, with the date marked
+upon it. In one of our photographs
+a number of these wire
+baskets may be seen, though
+unfortunately the eggs are not
+shown, being covered with a slight layer of sand,
+this work being done by the turtle itself. The
+covering serves a twofold purpose&mdash;the obvious
+one of marking the place, and, in addition,
+that of keeping other females from
+digging in the same spot. When
+hundreds, or even thousands, of these
+baskets are seen along the bank of a
+“parents’ pond,” the sight is one to
+gladden the heart of an embryologist,
+to say nothing of the proprietor.</p>
+
+<p>The hatching of the eggs occupies,
+on an average, sixty days. The time,
+however, may be considerably shortened
+or lengthened, according to
+whether the summer is hot and the sun
+pours down its strong rays day after
+day, or whether there is much rain and
+the heat not great. As the turtles lay
+sixty eggs to the nest at two sittings, it
+will be seen that in a single season many
+thousands are added to this unique
+establishment, but at least five years must elapse
+before they are large enough for the <i>chef</i>.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i025b.jpg">
+<img src="images/i025b.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">CHOPPING UP FOOD FOR THE BABY TURTLES.<br />
+<i>From a Photograph.</i>
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_339">339</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>One would imagine, remembering the quantities
+of eggs laid by turtles, that they would be
+very plentiful, but there are few creatures that
+have more enemies. All that the mother turtle
+does is to deposit her eggs on the sand of some
+island and there leave them to be hatched out
+by the sun. Before this process is accomplished
+they are often destroyed by rats and birds,
+while very few of those that are hatched survive
+very long. The moment the young turtle
+emerges from its shell it seeks the water, and
+there crabs and various kinds of fish are ever
+ready to devour it. The young just hatched at
+the farm under notice are put in a pond or
+ponds by themselves and given finely-chopped
+meat of a fish like the pilchard, while the bigger
+ones are fed largely on live eels. This feeding
+continues to the end of September. In October
+the snapping-turtle ceases to take food, and
+finally burrows in the muddy bottom of the
+pond to hibernate, coming out only in April or
+May.</p>
+
+<p>Snapping-turtle farming is much more exciting
+than raising the American terrapin. The former
+is a vicious creature and will snap at
+anything&mdash;hence its name. Indeed, in disposition
+it is the very opposite of its American brother.
+It believes most thoroughly in the survival of
+the fittest, and to it the fittest is number one.
+It is a chronic fighter, and inasmuch as its jaws
+are very strong and, like a bulldog, it never knows
+when to let go, it is a reptile to be either mastered
+or avoided. Indeed, the men at Mr. Hattori’s
+farm can tell many exciting little stories concerning
+the voracity of this strange creature.
+One farm hand, for instance, is minus a finger,
+the result of not using sufficient care when
+transferring one of the larger reptiles to a new
+pond.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i026.jpg">
+<img src="images/i026.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">FEEDING THE EELS WHICH IN TURN PROVIDE FOOD FOR THE LARGER TURTLES.<br />
+<i>From a Photo. by M. Ichikawa, Japan.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Many naturalists have visited this unique
+farm and, after a close study of the turtle and
+its habits, have confirmed all the bad qualities
+that have been recorded concerning it. In
+securing its food it shows that it possesses no
+mean intelligence. At one time it crawls slowly
+and silently along with neck outstretched towards
+an unsuspecting fish, springs upon it by a
+powerful thrust of its hind legs, and snaps it up;
+at another time it drives the fish around the
+basin and terrifies it until it falls an unresisting
+victim. Again, the reptile may be observed
+buried in the sandy soil of its prison with only
+its bill and eyes protruding. On the approach
+of a fish the head and long neck dart forth from
+the sand with lightning speed and the prey is
+caught and instantly killed by a savage bite.</p>
+
+<p>In its wild state the snapping-turtle is distinctly
+a nocturnal animal, and does its hunting
+after sunset, when it emerges from its muddy
+home to look for food. In the presence of
+danger it becomes bold, defiant, and even
+desperate. When driven to bay it retracts
+its neck, head, and widely-gaping jaws into
+its shell, awaiting a favourable opportunity
+to thrust them forth slyly and bite savagely.
+Anything which it has seized in its jaws it
+holds with wonderful tenacity, at the same time
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_340">340</span>
+vigorously scratching the earth with its sharp
+claws. There is only one way to catch the
+snapping-turtle, and that is to secure it by the
+tail. Some of the men at Mr. Hattori’s farm
+are very dexterous in seizing their victims in
+this fashion.</p>
+
+<p>A little time ago a Russian officer visited
+the establishment and listened, with some
+incredulity, to the stories of the voracity of the
+reptiles in the ponds before him. He carried
+in his hand a stout cane, and was told to place
+it near one of the bigger animals. He did so,
+and was surprised to find that in a few minutes
+it was bitten clean through. Before now the
+snapping-turtle has been known to bite through
+the flat of an oar. Not only will this turtle
+catch all kinds of fish and frogs and devour
+them greedily, but it is not averse to hunting
+waterfowl. Mr. Hattori declares that, in addition
+to raising turtles, he could rear ducks and geese
+as well, but dare not, as the reptiles would only
+kill them. When a snapping-turtle detects a
+duck it cunningly makes its way towards the
+creature, seizes it by its legs, pulls it down under
+water, and then drags it to the bottom of the
+pond. Here it tears the duck to pieces with
+the aid of the long claws of its fore paws and
+devours it.</p>
+
+<p>It is this snapping propensity which makes it
+desirable to keep the reptiles in ponds according
+to their ages; it would not do to put those just
+hatched in the same basin as the bigger ones,
+as they would quickly be eaten. Until they
+reach their sixth year they are never “mixed.”
+When they reach this age, however, they are
+capable of taking care of themselves and are
+allowed access to the bigger ponds. By this
+time the turtle has reached maturity and may
+begin to deposit eggs, though it is not at its
+prime till two or three years later.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i027.jpg">
+<img src="images/i027.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">WEST INDIAN TURTLES ON BOARD A MAIL STEAMER BOUND FOR LONDON&mdash;IN SPITE OF EVERY CARE, THE MORTALITY
+AMONG THEM IS VERY HEAVY.<br />
+[<i>From a Photograph.</i>]</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>What the Japanese epicure prefers are turtles
+not more than five years of age, when the flesh
+is soft and in desirable condition for the making
+of stews and soups. At this age the snapping-turtle
+weighs from sixty to eighty pounds.
+Those that are destined for the table are kept
+in a pond to themselves, and taken as required
+in nets or pulled out of the water by their tails.
+They are then placed in tin boxes or cases with
+air-holes, and sent by train to their destination.</p>
+
+<p>The turtle that is consumed in this country is
+the green species, from the West Indies. The
+creatures are imported by Mr. T. K. Bellis, who
+will not hesitate to tell you that of edible turtles
+the green variety is the best. Mr. Bellis
+imports some three thousand turtles a year.
+They arrive in batches of one hundred or more
+every fortnight by the Royal Mail steamers from
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_341">341</span>
+Kingston, Jamaica, and are obtained from the
+coral reefs lying to the north of the island of
+Jamaica. Twelve to fifteen small schooners are
+employed in the trade, and upwards of a
+hundred and twenty men.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i028.jpg">
+<img src="images/i028.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">A CONSIGNMENT OF TURTLES AT A LONDON TERMINUS.<br />
+[<i>From a Photograph.</i>]</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>These fishers of strange “fish” (the turtle’s
+technical name) stretch nets of twine from rock
+to rock, and the moment the turtle feels itself
+entangled it clings tenaciously to the meshes,
+and is then hauled to the surface. The
+schooners in due time return to Kingston with
+from eighty to a hundred and fifty of these
+remarkable creatures, which are promptly
+deposited in palisaded enclosures, flooded at
+every tide by the sea. Here they are fed upon
+a certain kind of herbage known as “turtle
+grass,” and taken as required. The bringing of
+these creatures overseas is a very delicate
+business, and frequently sixty out of a hundred
+perish <i>en route</i>, in spite of the most elaborate
+precautions, such as the constant spraying of
+salt water daily on board the mail steamer, and
+the use of foot warmers for the turtles in the
+railway vans from Southampton to Waterloo.
+Before now, Mr. Bellis has lost eighty-eight
+turtles out of a shipment of a hundred.</p>
+
+<p>This susceptibility to travel is one of the most
+remarkable things about the turtle. If you are
+anxious to transport him alive it is a hundred
+to one he perishes of cold, but if you do succeed
+in getting him home the difficulty then is to kill
+him. The vitality of this strange sea creature
+after decapitation is almost beyond belief. Mr.
+Bellis once sent a large turtle to an hotel in
+Newcastle. The <i>chef</i> cut the turtle’s head off and
+hung the body upside down to bleed. Twenty-four
+hours after that turtle knocked down a man
+cook with one blow of its fin! The green turtle
+is not a vicious creature to handle, like its
+snapping Japanese brother, but its fins are very
+strong, and one blow from them is quite sufficient
+to break a man’s arm.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Frank T. Bullen gives a remarkable
+instance of the tenacious hold of the turtle upon
+life. “On one occasion,” he records, “our men
+cut all the flesh and entrails of a turtle away,
+leaving only the head and tail attached to the
+shell. Some time had elapsed since the meat
+had been scooped out of the carapace, and no
+one imagined that any life remained in the
+extremities. But a young Dane, noticing that
+the down-hanging head had its mouth wide open,
+very foolishly inserted two fingers between those
+horny mandibles. It closed, and our shipmate
+was two fingers short, the edges of the turtle’s
+jaws had taken them clean off, with only the
+muscular power remaining in the head. Then
+another man tried to cut the horny tail off, but
+as soon as his keen blade touched it on the
+underside it curled up and gripped his knife so
+firmly that it was nearly an hour before the
+blade could be withdrawn.” Signor Redi, the
+great zoologist, records how he once cut a turtle’s
+head off and noted that it lived for twenty-three
+days without a head, and another whose brains
+he removed lived for six months.</p>
+
+<p>The green turtle, the species favoured in this
+country, is not a carnivorous creature, like the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_342">342</span>
+snapping-turtle, its food being a particular kind
+of sea grass found on the coral reefs in the West
+Indies. Some time ago Mr. Bellis brought a
+large quantity of this grass to London, with the
+idea of feeding the creatures in captivity, but
+they refused to take it. In his cellars in the
+City one can see any day a number of these
+turtles. Here they are kept until a telegram
+arrives from a distant hotel, when away goes the
+turtle to be turned into soup for the forthcoming
+banquet. Those hotels which do not care about
+the trouble of killing the creature can procure
+the soup in tins and bottles direct from the
+importer, and it is not surprising to learn that
+large quantities are sold. It requires eight
+pounds of the best turtle-flesh to make one
+quart of soup.</p>
+
+<p>The green turtle grows to an immense size,
+but it has been found that specimens weighing
+more than a hundred and fifty pounds are not
+desirable, the flesh becoming coarse as the
+animal increases in weight. The shell of this
+variety is practically valueless, but the hawksbill
+turtle yields what is popularly known as
+“tortoiseshell,” and the armour covering of a
+good specimen may be worth eight pounds. Its
+flesh, however, is too coarse for consumption,
+though here it should be added that it is doubtful
+whether those who occasionally partake of
+green-turtle soup would relish that made from
+the flesh of the snapping-turtle.</p>
+
+<p>It is a notorious fact that turtles grow very
+slowly and attain a great age. Curiously
+enough, neither Mr. Hattori nor Mr. Bellis can
+tell to what age a snapping or green turtle will
+live. Mr. Hattori has quite a number of turtles
+that are known to be from thirty to fifty years of
+age, while some of the bigger specimens that
+arrive at Waterloo for the Bellis cellars are, it is
+believed, twelve to fifteen years old.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i029.jpg">
+<img src="images/i029.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">TURTLES IN MR. BELLIS’S CELLARS IN THE CITY OF LONDON.<br />
+<i>From a Photo. by Conolly &amp; Goatam.</i>
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_343">343</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<div class="figcenter">
+<img id="SHORT" src="images/i030a.jpg"
+alt="SHORT STORIES." />
+</div>
+
+<h3>THE AMBASSADOR’S TRUNK.<br />
+
+<span class="smcap medium">By E. A. Morphy, late Editor of the “Straits Times,” Singapore.</span></h3>
+
+<div>
+<img class="drop-cap" src="images/t.jpg" alt="T" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">The</span> circumstances of this little smuggling
+incident, though known to
+several persons in the Far East,
+have hitherto been hidden, so to
+speak, under a bushel. In bringing
+them to the light it should be stated that&mdash;for
+obvious reasons&mdash;fictitious names have been
+given to the individuals
+chiefly concerned, but
+the facts are just as
+stated.</p>
+
+<p>Far and away the most
+distinguished passenger
+on the big German liner
+was the homeward bound
+Japanese Ambassador.
+He did not look the
+part, however. He was a
+squat, unobtrusive little
+man whose trousers fitted
+him badly, and whose
+carriage, when he was
+hampered by European
+clothes, suggested an insignificance
+that was only
+partially belied by the
+intelligence of his homely
+countenance. His appearance
+reflected no radiant
+blaze of glory, yet he
+was returning to his
+native land crowned with
+some of the finest diplomatic
+achievements of the
+century.</p>
+
+<p>This statement is due
+to his Excellency, but
+it practically dismisses him from the story,
+which mainly concerns his trunk&mdash;his trunk
+No. 23, to be precise, for the Ambassador’s
+trunks were all numbered. There must have
+been half a hundred of them at least; all the
+same typical German steel trunks, but distinguished
+from other less important trunks of
+the same make insomuch
+that each one was adorned
+with two broad painted
+bands of scarlet, which
+showed out bravely and
+effectually prevented their
+being mixed up with any
+ordinary baggage. Apart
+from all other considerations,
+the wisdom of the
+Ambassador in thus distinctively
+marking his
+own trunks lay in the fact
+that the process insured
+their instant recognition
+by the Japanese Customs
+officials, by whom they
+were immune from examination.</p>
+
+<p>This last fact was the
+one which counted for
+most with Fritz Vogel,
+steward and trombonist
+of the liner, as he daily
+contemplated the mountain
+of luggage and calculated
+how many Manila
+cigars one of those
+great red-striped trunks
+would hold.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i030b.jpg">
+<img src="images/i030b.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">“HE DAILY CONTEMPLATED THE MOUNTAIN OF LUGGAGE
+AND CALCULATED HOW MANY MANILA CIGARS ONE OF
+THOSE GREAT RED-STRIPED TRUNKS WOULD HOLD.”
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_344">344</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Carefully packed, he figured it, one might
+crowd ten thousand cigars into each trunk.
+Ten thousand cigars, at eighty Mexican dollars a
+thousand, meant eighty pounds. Duty at one
+hundred and fifty per cent. <i>ad valorem</i> on eighty
+pounds would mean a hundred and twenty
+pounds, or, as Fritz Vogel calculated, two
+thousand four hundred marks. Therefore, as the
+meditative trombonist further worked out the
+possibilities, his Excellency could, by simply
+loading up a few dozen more trunks with cigars
+at Hong-Kong and getting them passed free
+through the Customs at Yokohama&mdash;or at
+Nagasaki or Kobe for that matter&mdash;make more
+in a week than he could hope to earn in a
+month of Sundays by sticking to the thorny
+paths of diplomacy.</p>
+
+<p>Born west of the Suez, the fertile idea
+germinated in Vogel’s brain all through the
+dreary wastes of the Canal, and sprouted up
+green and vigorous, despite the withering blasts
+that pursued the liner down the Red Sea and
+across the Indian Ocean to Colombo. At
+Singapore it had become an obsession. When
+steaming through the Narrows into the latter
+port, however, on the way to the German mail
+wharf, Vogel observed a red-funnelled Jardine
+liner at the Messageries wharf, with the blue-peter
+flying.</p>
+
+<p>An hour later the <i>Laisang</i> left for China,
+carrying a hastily-written letter from Fritz Vogel
+to his friend Max Krebs at Hong-Kong. It
+contained a fair statement of the salient facts
+in the case, and a crude but lucid sketch of one
+of the pieces of baggage, together with a description
+of the scarlet bands and full measurements.
+It also stated what has not been set forth above&mdash;that
+each of his Excellency’s trunks was numbered
+in large white figures at each end and on
+the top, and it suggested that in the case of any
+person desiring to have access to those trunks
+whilst they were still on board the liner, Nos.
+23, 24, 27, 32, etc., were the easiest to reach.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Krebs was a “runner” for a native compradoring
+firm. He went out to the ships to
+“drum up” business for his employers, who
+supplied anything and everything that a ship
+could require, from cigarettes to engine-oil. In
+the old days before the Russian War Mr. Vogel
+had done a good deal of trade with Mr. Krebs
+on the short run between Yokohama and Hong-Kong.
+But the stringent Customs regulations
+that had ensued upon the increased tariffs
+imposed after the war had practically killed the
+business, save so far as concerned a paltry bit
+of trading with passengers in faked curios, and
+the occasional disposal of a few imitation gems
+to homeward-bound tourists when the vessel
+was west of Colombo.</p>
+
+<p>Opportunities like the return of an Ambassador
+to Japan did not occur once in a blue moon.</p>
+
+<p>The liner tarried a day and a half over cargo
+at Singapore, and the <i>Laisang</i> got into Hong-Kong
+nearly twenty-four hours ahead of her.
+Mr. Vogel learned the fact the moment the
+German liner arrived at the big China port, and
+his heart was filled with sickening apprehension.
+He had been dreaming of trunks full of cigars&mdash;German
+steel trunks with red bands, and
+numbered with big white characters&mdash;ever since
+he left Singapore. He had marked off the state-room
+wherein, until the proper psychological
+moment, the extra trunks&mdash;if any&mdash;could be
+stored safely. He had mentally arranged every
+other detail in his projected bid for fortune, and
+had even marked down those of his comrades who
+should be selected as his accomplices. He had
+counted over, time and time again, the round
+thousand marks that would be his personal
+profit out of every trunk full of cigars he could
+pass through the Yokohama Customs as the
+baggage of the returning Ambassador. He
+did all this while still faithfully, if mechanically,
+discharging his onerous duties as steward and
+master of the trombone.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i031.jpg">
+<img src="images/i031.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">“A NOTE WAS HANDED TO HIM BY A CHINESE MESSENGER.”</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>It was not until a few hours after the arrival
+of the steamer in Hong-Kong&mdash;hours that felt
+like ages&mdash;that Vogel heard from Krebs. A
+note was handed to him by a Chinese messenger
+boy, and Vogel opened it with feverish impatience.
+Mr. Krebs wrote with that laconic
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_345">345</span>
+brevity of diction which indicates the resourceful
+mind. “Will send you one trunk.&mdash;O. K.,”
+it read.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Vogel pondered for a moment whether
+“O. K.” meant Oscar Krebs or “All correct”
+(American fashion); then he heaved a great
+sigh of relief as he realized that it was all the
+same.</p>
+
+<p>That evening Mr. Krebs came on board
+unostentatiously, and a big trunk wrapped in
+rough sacking came with him, and was temporarily
+stowed
+away by Mr.
+Vogel in one of
+the state-rooms
+which held
+some of the
+Ambassador’s
+spare boxes.
+Thence it was
+subsequently
+carried to
+another cabin,
+where there
+were some spare
+things of Mr.
+Vogel’s. Had a
+hypercritical
+observer subsequently
+studied
+all the trunks
+in the Ambassador’s
+collection
+he might
+have noticed
+that one of them appeared to be the least trifle
+newer than the rest, but it would have taken a
+Sherlock Holmes to detect the circumstance off-hand.
+The trunk in question was numbered
+“23.”</p>
+
+<p>In due time the liner arrived at Yokohama,
+but the mails that had been forwarded overland
+from Nagasaki reached there a day before her.
+Thus it came about that when the Ambassador’s
+baggage was franked through the Custom House
+and sent up to the Imperial Hotel at Tokio, two
+friends of Messrs. Krebs and Vogel were installed
+as guests at the last-named establishment. Thus
+also it came about that, thanks to ten yen well
+spent on a porter, the Ambassador’s trunk,
+No. 23, was whisked away to the nether cellars
+of the hotel the moment it arrived there, and&mdash;as
+the Ambassador himself did at an earlier stage&mdash;it
+virtually passes out of this story. That is
+to say, what must have been the ghost of the
+Ambassador’s trunk vanishes from mortal view;
+but not so the real article. When the diplomat’s
+baggage was supposed to be all in, and a count
+was taken, trunk No. 23 was found to be missing.</p>
+
+<p>The row that ensued was something awful.
+Telegraphs and telephones were called into
+requisition, and imperative, not to say drastic,
+orders were dispatched to the Customs authorities
+at Yokohama, to the railway authorities at
+Shimbashi, and to all other authorities everywhere,
+commanding them to instantly produce
+his Excellency’s missing trunk.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i032.jpg">
+<img src="images/i032.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">“THEY HAD PASSED IT AND FORWARDED IT, AND GOT A RECEIPT FOR IT.”</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>The Customs authorities declared they had
+not got the trunk; they had passed it and forwarded
+it, and got a receipt for it. There could
+be no doubt,
+from their point
+of view, that the
+Ambassador
+had taken delivery
+of his
+trunk No. 23.
+The railway
+authorities were
+equally agreed
+on the same
+point. The baggage
+was all in
+special carriages;
+not a
+pin could have
+been lost between
+Yokohama
+and the
+Shimbashi
+station at the
+capital, whence
+it had been
+handed over to
+his Excellency’s servants for removal to the
+hotel. The police authorities were equally
+certain that there had been no hanky-panky
+business of any kind. It would have
+been impossible for one of the Ambassador’s
+trunks to go astray or be stolen, either in the
+streets of the seaport or in the capital itself.
+The steamship authorities had a receipt for every
+article. They knew the Ambassador’s trunks, and
+especial care had been taken of them throughout
+the voyage. Nevertheless, they would again
+investigate.</p>
+
+<p>Then, Banzai! there came a telegram from
+the chief purser of the liner:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>“<i>Ambassador’s trunk No. 23 found on board.
+Must have been left behind inadvertently. Forwarding
+to Tokio at once.</i>”</p>
+
+<p>The little Custom House inspectors looked
+at the newly-found trunk in utter stupefaction.</p>
+
+<p>“Truly,” said they, “we passed this identical
+trunk not three hours ago.”</p>
+
+<p>“<i>Hayako!</i>” (Hurry, there!) shouted the head
+inspector, as they dallied over the mystery.
+“His Excellency waits!”
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_346">346</span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i033.jpg">
+<img src="images/i033.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">“THE LITTLE CUSTOM HOUSE INSPECTORS LOOKED AT THE NEWLY-FOUND
+TRUNK IN UTTER STUPEFACTION.”</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>The trunk was expressed up to the Imperial
+Hotel by special train.</p>
+
+<p>Ten minutes later the Director of His Imperial
+Majesty’s Customs at Yokohama ordered
+a Commission of Inquiry into the matter
+of the registering as received and delivered
+of one Ambassador’s trunk,
+No. 23, when the same had never
+either been received from the liner or
+delivered to the railway or to any other
+authorities by His Imperial Majesty’s
+Customs. The matter was also taken
+in hand by the Imperial Railway and
+by the Tokio and Kanagawa police
+authorities.</p>
+
+<p>Though a couple of years have passed
+since these investigations were inaugurated,
+no definite finding in the matter
+has yet been officially published. In
+certain quarters, however, there is a consensus
+of opinion that such a trunk did
+really pass through the Yokohama
+Customs, but that it was a phantom one.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Vogel took away two thousand
+two hundred yen (two hundred and
+twenty pounds) from Yokohama that trip.
+At Hong-Kong, nine days later, he settled
+up with Mr. Krebs.</p>
+
+<p>The cigars and trunk had cost nine
+hundred dollars, while the expenses
+and “commissions” in Japan amounted
+to a trifle less than three hundred dollars.
+There was a balance of a thousand dollars to
+divide, and they duly divided it.</p>
+
+<h3>HALF AN HOUR IN A BLAZING FURNACE.<br />
+
+<span class="smcap medium">By George S. Guy.</span></h3>
+
+<p>One of the most remarkable and appalling
+experiences possible to conceive recently befell
+a young man named Robert Perry, at Apedale,
+in Staffordshire. Tramping about the country
+in search of work, he arrived one night, utterly
+tired out, at an ironworks, and unwittingly took
+shelter in an “air furnace,” used for the purpose
+of reducing very large pieces of iron, too large
+to be dealt with in the ordinary way. As it
+happened, the fire-bars of this particular furnace
+had been taken out, and Perry had no difficulty
+in creeping through the opening and thus
+making his way inside. Here he had to mount
+a wall five feet in height, and eventually reached
+the melting chamber, which at the time contained
+about five tons of iron waiting to be
+smelted. Arrived at this point, in blissful
+ignorance of the dangerous character of the
+place he had selected to sleep in, and appreciating
+only its dryness and seclusion, he lay
+down to rest. Exactly why he should have
+selected such a strange bedchamber it is impossible
+to say, but tramps have been known to
+choose even stranger quarters&mdash;such as lime-kilns
+and brick-kilns. Anyhow, the fact remains
+that he went into the furnace to sleep. What
+happened afterwards is told below, from information
+gathered partly from the man himself and
+partly from other persons who figured in his
+terrible adventure.</p>
+
+<p>After a long walk in the broiling sun Perry
+arrived at Apedale quite exhausted, and set
+about looking for a snug, dry place where he
+could lie down and have a sleep. During his
+weary tramp he had been no stranger to curious
+resting-places, and he had spent the previous
+night under a railway arch. Presently he came
+across the smelting works of the Midland Coal,
+Coke, and Iron Company, and, seeing a furnace
+which he took to be unused, examined it
+intently. The wide, open front of the contrivance
+looked tempting, and he decided to
+make its interior his abode for the night.
+Crawling into the opening for some little distance,
+he discovered that he had a wall five feet
+in height to climb over, but scaled it without
+much trouble. Beyond he found himself in
+pitch-darkness, but clambered cautiously onwards,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_347">347</span>
+trying to find
+a comfortable place
+to lie down. Proceeding
+up a slope,
+he reached a sort
+of chamber beyond,
+where a number of
+great pieces of iron
+were lying about.
+Here the weary man
+lay down, and,
+being very tired, it
+did not take him
+long to fall asleep.
+Let him tell the
+manner of his
+awakening in his
+own words.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb" />
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i034a.jpg">
+<img src="images/i034a.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">FIRE-GRATE WHERE PERRY CRAWLED IN.<br />
+<i>From a Photograph.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>I do not exactly
+know what awoke
+me, but upon trying
+to raise myself a
+frightful choking
+feeling came over
+me, and I became
+conscious of great
+heat. Then, like a
+flash, I realized what
+a dreadful mistake
+I had made, and
+what a terrible
+situation I was in.
+The furnace was <i>not</i>
+disused, and now
+the workmen had lit it, and I was a prisoner
+inside! For a moment I felt sick with horror,
+but it did not take me long to pull myself
+together and try to find a way out.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i034b.jpg">
+<img src="images/i034b.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">PLAN OF THE FURNACE&mdash;THE CROSS DENOTES WHERE PERRY SLEPT.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>The whole place was in total darkness.
+Although I could hear a dull roaring somewhere,
+and feel the waves of heated air and
+fumes passing over me, I could not see the
+slightest sign of any light. Tremblingly I felt
+up and down the
+sides of my prison
+to see if I could find
+a door, but nothing
+of the kind could I
+discover. I tried to
+retreat farther into
+the furnace to get
+away from that awful
+heat, but had to
+return and face it
+again. Now, with
+a sickening heart,
+I saw that flames
+were approaching
+my position. Thinking
+my end was near
+at hand, I decided
+at all costs to go
+down the slope.
+This meant that I
+must face the fire,
+which was now licking
+up towards me,
+sucked inwards by
+the tremendous
+draught. Shivering
+with horror I made
+the attempt, but the
+heat and flames were
+unendurable, and
+beat me back. Then,
+crouching down, I
+worked myself along
+the side, thinking
+this my best plan. At last&mdash;Heaven alone
+knows how&mdash;I reached the foot of the wall.
+In a half-dazed, choking condition, I tried to
+climb up, but was met by a veritable hurricane
+of fierce flames, which knocked me down and
+burnt all the hair off my head. Half-blinded,
+scorched, and with my brain benumbed from
+the effects of the fumes, I still did not quite
+lose heart: something seemed to force me on
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_348">348</span>
+to make a struggle for life. Suddenly, as I
+lay there gasping in that inferno of heat
+and flame, I heard voices outside, but I
+could not understand what was said. I wondered
+dully whether, if I called out, the men
+I could hear speaking would hear me, so,
+in my agony of physical suffering and mental
+distress, I shouted, “O Lord, save me! O
+Lord, save me!” The murmur of voices still
+went on, but presently one man evidently heard
+my cries, and called out to a “Mr. Phillips”
+that he thought he heard a shout for help. This,
+however, Mr. Phillips&mdash;who seemed to be the
+foreman&mdash;ridiculed, and they went on working
+as before.</p>
+
+<p>I was now on the verge of giving up; my
+strength seemed to be failing me, but I decided
+to make one final attempt to get on the wall.
+I am glad to say that it was not in vain, and
+after a desperate struggle I succeeded in reaching
+the top. This seemed to renew my energy,
+and I braced myself for what I knew was my
+last hope. I gave one horrified glance at the
+furnace below, the flames
+roaring and leaping madly,
+and then, with all the strength
+of my fire-scorched lungs, I
+shrieked out once more, “O
+Lord, save me!”</p>
+
+<p>The men outside stopped
+work at once.</p>
+
+<p>“Did you hear that?”
+cried one, excitedly; “I
+heard it quite distinctly that
+time; someone is shouting
+out ‘Lord, save me’!” This
+time Mr. Phillips admitted
+that he <i>did</i> think he heard
+a noise as if someone was
+calling out, but where could
+it come from? It was impossible
+for anyone to be in
+the furnace alive, for the fire
+had been going for some
+time. Then someone else
+said, “Open the fire-door
+and see if you can see anything.”</p>
+
+<p>The fire-door! Where
+was it, I wondered&mdash;far away
+or near at hand? Then, to
+my great joy, I heard them
+releasing a bolt just a few
+feet from where I was. At
+last it opened&mdash;a place about
+a foot square&mdash;and I saw
+daylight streaming in and
+then a man’s face. He peered
+in anxiously, but evidently
+he could not see me, for I was now as black
+as the furnace itself. Then he seemed to half-close
+the door and I nearly swooned away, for
+this was my last chance.</p>
+
+<p>Desperately I strove to shout, but the heat,
+flames, and smoke prevented my uttering a
+sound save a choking gasp. Fortunately for
+myself, however, I moved, and the watcher
+happened to catch sight of something about me&mdash;probably
+the whites of my eyes shining in
+the reflected light. “Good God!” he cried.
+“There’s a man in the furnace! Pull the bars
+out as quickly as you can.”</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i035.jpg">
+<img src="images/i035.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">“I FOUND MYSELF FALLING&mdash;RIGHT ON TO THE HUGE FIRE.”
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_349">349</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>I did not trouble to
+think what or where
+the bars were; I knew
+only that the men had
+seen me and would do
+everything in their power
+to get me out. I heard
+them pulling the bars
+out in frantic haste,
+and saw Mr. Phillips
+trying to squeeze himself
+through the small
+fire-door.</p>
+
+<p>With my flesh scorching
+and my breath
+rapidly failing me in
+that awful whirlwind of
+heat and flame, I put
+my arms down for him
+to catch hold of. He
+seized me by the elbows
+and told me to jump,
+but this I could not do,
+for I felt too far gone.
+With that he gave me
+a jerk, and I found
+myself falling&mdash;right on
+to the huge fire! The
+bars were out, and the
+fire was keeping itself together by the pressure
+of one block of coal on another; but when
+my weight came upon it, it collapsed, sending
+up a rush of flames
+all around me. To
+my intense horror, I
+felt the skin on my
+arms giving way, but
+the courageous Mr.
+Phillips did not
+release his hold. His
+hands were now on
+my wrists, and, exerting
+all his strength, he
+pulled me up towards
+the door.</p>
+
+<p>The pain of my
+burns was simply fearful,
+and I could have
+shrieked with agony,
+but somehow, except
+for a few moans, I
+kept quiet.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i036a.jpg">
+<img src="images/i036a.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">ROBERT PERRY AS HE APPEARED AFTER HIS DISCHARGE FROM
+THE INFIRMARY.<br />
+[<i>From a Photograph.</i>]</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Presently the foreman
+succeeded in
+pulling me out of the
+small door, but I felt
+as if dead, and as
+though I was shrivelling
+up and growing
+smaller. As I lay on
+the ground, in agonizing
+pain, I appealed to the
+men to strangle me.
+Again and again, in semi-delirium,
+I repeated the
+request: “I’m done for!
+Strangle me! strangle
+me!” My whole body
+seemed to be on fire,
+but my rescuers lost no
+time. Procuring some
+oil, they saturated me
+with it, thus, in a measure,
+soothing the pain. Then
+they got me on to an
+ambulance and rushed
+me off to the Chell
+Infirmary, where I received
+every care and
+attention.</p>
+
+<p>Never, so long as I
+live, shall I forget the
+terrible time I endured
+in the furnace, and my
+unspeakable joy when I
+saw Mr. Phillips at the
+fire-door.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb" />
+
+<p>I am indebted to Mr. Hill, the general
+manager of the above-mentioned company, for
+a plan of the furnace. It may be interesting
+to add that, even had
+Perry contrived to
+shelter himself from
+the flames at the foot
+of the wall he mentions,
+he would very
+soon have met with a
+death too awful to
+contemplate, as the
+molten iron would
+have flowed down and
+overwhelmed him. The
+authorities inform me
+that Perry’s adventure
+is altogether unprecedented
+in the whole of
+their experience. At
+the moment when his
+first cry was heard the
+furnace had been alight
+for some considerable
+time, having been
+started with a large
+quantity of wood and
+many barrow-loads of
+hot coal in order to
+raise the heat quickly!</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i036b.jpg">
+<img src="images/i036b.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">MR. PHILLIPS STANDING BY THE FIRE-DOOR THROUGH WHICH PERRY
+WAS DRAGGED.<br />
+[<i>From a Photograph.</i>]
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_350">350</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<h3>THE HEADLESS WOMAN.<br />
+
+<span class="smcap medium">By Charles Needham.</span></h3>
+
+<p>I had just recovered from a troublesome
+throat affection, and under the doctor’s orders
+had moved out of town for a spell of fresh air
+and quieter surroundings, selecting the little
+village of Canewdon, in South-East Essex, as my
+retreat. I had always had an eye on the village,
+first making its acquaintance whilst yachting off
+the coast and in the River Crouch, where my
+boat had its permanent berth.</p>
+
+<p>Canewdon is actually little more than a straggling
+hamlet four miles by road to the north of
+Rochford, and about nine from Southend-on-Sea.
+It required only a very short residence
+there for me to find that the secluded little place
+considered it had its own corner in history, and
+a very pretty turn in folk-lore and superstition as
+well. To begin with, Canewdon claims King
+Canute as one of its founders, and its domestic
+romances and tragedies would make a presentable
+volume in the hands of a scribbling
+antiquary. It had, however, something more
+than mere history, and far less to my liking, for
+me to feed my imagination upon, as I was soon
+to discover.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i037.jpg">
+<img src="images/i037.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">THE OLD COTTAGE AT CANEWDON IN WHICH THE AUTHOR RESIDED.<br />
+<i>From a Photograph.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>After a good look round I settled upon a
+comfortable old cottage, with a small garden
+traversed by a brook, only a very short distance
+from the ancient, square-towered church. Into
+this, having taken it at a very moderate rental,
+I moved a small amount of furniture, my books,
+and other paraphernalia, and prepared to settle
+down to the life of a hermit for a time. The
+woman who came from close by to “do” for
+me looked upon me, I fancy, as something of a
+curiosity, but, for some reason I had not then
+discovered, she seemed a little uneasy at my
+solitary existence. She would remark that I
+must be lonely, or that it was unlikely that I
+should stop in the place very long. I put all
+this down to a friendly disposition, coupled with
+a desire to draw me out as to my place in the
+larger world I had dropped from so suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>For the first day or two matters went
+smoothly enough, and I began to feel that
+my choice of locality had been a lucky and
+inexpensive one. Then something occurred
+which startled me sufficiently to make me alter
+my opinion.</p>
+
+<p>I always used the little kitchen at meal-times
+for convenience’ sake, and one night I remained
+there reading until very late, the kitchen being
+lit only by one small lamp at my back. I had
+just closed my book&mdash;it was about one o’clock&mdash;and
+was summoning the effort required to take
+me bedwards, when I noticed a very slight
+movement of the iron latch upon the door
+leading into the back garden. My thoughts
+naturally flew to burglars. The locality was
+lonely, and no doubt my coming had been duly
+talked over in the village with all the exaggeration
+and surmise an out-of-the-way place is
+capable of.</p>
+
+<p>I was, of course, considerably startled, and
+sat watching the latch slowly rise, evidently
+actuated by a very delicate and even pressure
+from without. The door itself was bolted at
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_351">351</span>
+both top and bottom, and when the latch had
+risen clear of the hasp I fully expected to hear
+the bolts rattle as the person outside put his
+weight against the door to try it. But nothing
+of the sort happened; the latch, after remaining
+suspended for a moment, fell back again into
+place as slowly and evenly as it had risen.</p>
+
+<p>Startled and puzzled as I was, I still held to
+my belief that this must be a timid attempt at
+robbery, and that, finding the back door locked,
+the intruder would try the front one also. Nor
+was I wrong, for I had scarcely slipped quietly
+into the sitting-room and taken up my position
+when the latch there began to rise in precisely
+the same manner. This door possessed only
+one bolt, and that at the bottom, so that
+the door, an old and ill-fitting one, would
+show the slightest pressure at once. But
+none was placed upon it, and the latch fell
+into place as evenly and noiselessly as before.
+By this time I must confess to being slightly
+scared, and when a chair banged heavily on the
+floor and a loud shout of “Who’s that?”
+brought no sound of a retreating shuffle on the
+cobble-stones outside, I had to summon all my
+remaining courage to unbar and fling open the
+door. Not a soul or a sound met me as I
+stepped outside. The night was a light one in
+early September, so that a retreating figure could
+have been followed by the eye for twenty or
+thirty yards. After a careful look round the
+garden I went to bed nonplussed at the
+weirdness of the whole affair.</p>
+
+<p>The following day brought another intruder&mdash;a
+material one this time. I found that during
+the morning a travelling caravan had taken a
+pitch just outside my hedge; and its owner
+turned out to be an Oxford man, who, with his
+wife, was leading a vagabond life about the
+shires. He was an extremely well-read man,
+and we soon got on the best of terms, exchanging
+books and opinions, till he inspanned for pastures
+new a week later. The night before he left I
+was treated to another queer happening.</p>
+
+<p>We had been talking and reading in my tiny
+sitting-room till about eleven o’clock, when my
+vagabond friend bade me a sleepy “Good night”
+and opened the front door. He had, however,
+only just put his foot on the cobbles when he
+stepped backwards with a sharp exclamation,
+and a scared look on his face.</p>
+
+<p>“What’s up?” I asked.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s awfully queer,” he replied; “I could
+have sworn I saw a face looking straight at me
+close to that bush”&mdash;he pointed to the privet
+hedge at the left of the door&mdash;“but there didn’t
+seem to be any body to it. I’m certainly not
+drunk, but I may have been dreaming.”</p>
+
+<p>After my recent experience, which I had not
+thought it worth while to mention to such a
+hard-headed soul as my chance companion, I
+felt anything but comfortable. We were both
+rather ashamed of our brief lapse from common
+sense, and laughed the incident off as best we
+might.</p>
+
+<p>The following day found me in all the doubtful
+glory of my solitude once more, and I must
+confess to having been thankful when an invitation
+reached me that same evening, from friends
+at Fambridge, for a few days’ fishing.</p>
+
+<p>I have never suffered from that popular
+present-day malady known as “nerves,” possibly
+because of an open-air existence with plenty of
+exercise, but, though I had only been there a
+short time, the cottage and the locality now
+seemed to have become almost uncanny to me.
+Had I mixed more with the inhabitants, I
+should have discovered, as I did later, that this
+strange feeling was not without some foundation.</p>
+
+<p>The few days I spent in Fambridge put all
+thought of the two queer incidents out of my
+mind, which will show that the subsequent
+events were not the outcome of an overtaxed
+imagination or a course of long brooding upon
+disquieting phenomena.</p>
+
+<p>It must have been about nine o’clock in the
+evening that my Fambridge friend put a little
+Welsh pony into his governess-car to drive me
+back the four odd miles to my cottage. The
+night was fine, but there were clouds about and
+no moon, so that objects outside the radius of
+the lamps were hard to distinguish. The pony
+had already had a fairly hard day of it along the
+coast, but he was a sturdy little beast and pulled
+like a steam-engine, rattling us down to the outskirts
+of Canewdon in excellent time.</p>
+
+<p>We had been bowling along, talking about the
+day’s sport, and were now rapidly nearing a stile
+leading to a footpath upon the left of the road,
+which takes one by a short cut across a field,
+over another stile, into the churchyard, and so
+into the village High Street. We had barely
+reached the stile when the pony pulled up short,
+reared, and refused to go another step in that
+direction. The pony, always a strong and
+willing little chap, had never done such a thing
+in his life before, and my friend was not only
+puzzled but annoyed. A sound beating had no
+more effect than words of encouragement; there
+the little beggar stuck, his four legs splayed out,
+the picture of all that was most stubborn in
+nature, whilst we two sat in the car trying to
+devise some plan by which to budge him.</p>
+
+<p>My friend was at last obliged to ask me to
+take the short cut I have just spoken of instead
+of being driven round by the road the remaining
+mile and a half to my cottage. I was, of course,
+willing enough. The short cut would take me
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_352">352</span>
+barely ten minutes, and I had very little to
+carry; so, bidding him “Good night,” I jumped
+out. As I came from behind the trap I noticed
+a tiny flickering light a few yards ahead, upon
+the left-hand side of the road, but it was very
+dim and did not arrest my attention sufficiently
+to make any impression on the mind. I was
+able to lead the pony round without any
+difficulty, and when his head faced Fambridge
+he seemed to recover his spirits at once, and
+the red points behind the lamps receded at a
+rattling pace up the road. When these had
+disappeared I turned again to climb the stile,
+but became at once uneasily
+conscious of something
+unusual a little way
+ahead of me.</p>
+
+<p>The spot the pony had
+refused at was a good
+deal shadowed by large
+elms, and these, together
+with the cloudy sky,
+made the road still more
+obscure. The small light,
+which I had taken little
+notice of at first&mdash;thinking
+it probably one of
+the village lights showing
+through the trees&mdash;was
+still ahead; only, instead
+of being upon the left of
+the road, it was now upon
+the right. For a few
+seconds I stood looking
+at it, feeling very much
+like turning tail and bolting
+down the road. The
+flame, for it was no other,
+showed greeny&mdash;white
+against the black background
+and shivered in
+a strange, eerie way.</p>
+
+<p>The most extraordinary
+part of the business
+was that it seemed to
+come from nothing
+visible, but to appear,
+as it were, burning in
+space three or four feet
+above the road.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i039.jpg">
+<img src="images/i039.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">“THIS MYSTERIOUS SOMETHING TOOK THREE RAPID STRIDES ACROSS THE ROAD AND
+DISAPPEARED.”</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>I had, of course, read
+ghost stories in which
+“corpse candles” and
+ghostly lights of one
+sort and another
+figured largely, but I
+had never expected to
+come across one, and
+this could be translated
+in no other way.<a id="FNanchor_2" href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">2</a> The close proximity of the
+churchyard, with the square tower of the church
+itself showing through the trees, added too
+much colour to the scene to my liking; but,
+scared though I was, a certain fascination took
+hold of me, and I advanced a step or two in
+order to examine the phenomenon at closer
+range. I had scarcely taken two paces, however,
+when the clouds parted a little, giving a
+better light beneath the trees, and at the same
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_353">353</span>
+moment the weird flame flickered wildly and
+went out.</p>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+
+<p><a id="Footnote_2" href="#FNanchor_2" class="label">2</a>
+The light somewhat resembled the <i>ignis fatuus</i>, or will-o’-the-wisp,
+but was larger and greener in colour. Moreover, there was
+no pond or marshy ground anywhere near the road.</p></div>
+
+<p>But this was not to be the end of my ghostly
+experience. The stronger light brought many
+roadside objects into prominence, and the
+moment the flame disappeared I became conscious
+of an indistinct black blotch against the
+lighter background of the hedge. It was, of
+course, too dark for me to be certain of its
+exact shape, even had I been in a calm enough
+state of mind to take in details; but in any case
+I was allowed only a momentary glimpse, for
+whilst I stood with the breath caught in my
+throat, this mysterious something took three
+rapid strides across the road and disappeared
+without a sound into the thick hawthorn hedge
+opposite.</p>
+
+<p>At this stage I must confess to having lost all
+control of myself. Without another look I took
+to my heels and ran, as though all the powers of
+darkness were behind me.</p>
+
+<p>The scare I had got made me quite oblivious
+of my direction, but I suppose natural instinct
+guided me, for I found myself at last, almost
+pumped out, trotting into the little High Street
+of Canewdon by the road along which I should
+have driven, and no doubt in far better time.
+I had no relish, in my then state of mind, for
+another lonely night in the cottage, although it
+stood only fifty yards away, so I made my way
+to the Chequers, the only inn the village possessed,
+and asked for a bed.</p>
+
+<p>My recent arrival in the place had given me
+little time to become acquainted with the village
+notables, but I fancy the landlady knew me by
+sight, and no doubt thought the request strange.
+In any case her “Certainly, sir,” was followed
+by a close scrutiny. “You’re looking very queer,
+sir,” she added; “has anything happened?”</p>
+
+<p>Surrounded by more human elements, I began
+to feel thoroughly ashamed of myself, and rather
+doubted the wisdom of giving the narrative away;
+but the thought that, perhaps, being a resident,
+she might be able to throw some light upon my
+weird experience finally decided me to make a
+clean breast of the whole affair; and I promptly
+did so in the little inn-parlour.</p>
+
+<p>I had barely got half-way through the incident
+upon the road when she sat back in her chair,
+and said in a quiet, almost matter-of-fact
+tone:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>“You’ve seen the headless woman, sir.”</p>
+
+<p>“The headless woman?” I asked, startled.
+“Who’s she?”</p>
+
+<p>“I may as well tell you,” she replied, “though
+we don’t talk of it much here. Have you noticed
+a wooden house painted white, and standing
+alone about a hundred yards this way from the
+stile on the Fambridge road?”</p>
+
+<p>I said that I had, and thought it was a farmhouse.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, so it was till the murder happened,”
+replied the woman. “The story goes that somewhere
+about forty years ago a farmer there took
+to drink, went mad, and murdered his wife. He
+didn’t stop at that, either, for he cut off her head
+and buried it, and it wasn’t found till some time
+after the body had had decent burial.”</p>
+
+<p>“So she’s supposed to haunt the place?” I
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>“There’s no suppose about it, sir,” she
+replied, very quietly; “a tidy few people here
+have seen her, much the same as you did. My
+husband has, too, by the stile leading into the
+churchyard. It took him a week in bed to get
+over it. Sometimes it’s just a face, and sometimes
+just a black bundle like a body without a
+head; but always near one of them two stiles,
+and round about harvest time. Heaven send I
+never see the sight!” she concluded, devoutly.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m not particularly anxious to renew the
+acquaintance myself,” I replied, “but how do
+you account for the lifting of my latch?”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I can’t say for certain, sir, but, if my
+memory serves me, there was a gaffer living in
+your cottage&mdash;he’s dead now many a year&mdash;who
+used to work at the White House and was there
+when the murder happened. He saw her pretty
+often in his garden, I’m told, but couldn’t be
+got to speak of it. It may be she walks there
+too.”</p>
+
+<p>I spent a very mixed kind of night at the inn,
+and on the following day returned to Fambridge
+and less ghostly company. From here I made
+arrangements for a change of quarters, and from
+that day to this I have not set eyes upon
+Canewdon, nor have I any inclination to do so.</p>
+
+<p>This strange happening is perhaps too strange
+for everybody’s belief. My “spirituous” state
+at the time is an opinion largely held by chaffing
+friends; but I ask that three points be taken
+into consideration. I am practically a teetotaller;
+my imagination is no more abnormal
+than that of most of my fellows; and, lastly, no
+whisper of ghostly visitations in the village had
+reached my ears prior to the narrative as told
+by the landlady.</p>
+
+<p>The whole affair would make an interesting
+little piece of investigation for the Psychical
+Research Society.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_354">354</span></p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<img id="SOME_SAVAGE_PASTIMES" src="images/i041.jpg"
+alt="SOME SAVAGE PASTIMES" />
+<h2><span class="hidden">SOME SAVAGE PASTIMES.<br /></span>
+<span class="smcap medium">By E. Way Elkington</span>, F.R.G.S.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<blockquote>
+
+<p>Savages, big and little, play games like
+other folk, and some of their methods
+of amusing themselves are very curious
+indeed. Mr. Elkington has made a
+collection of the least-known and most
+peculiar pastimes, and here describes
+and illustrates them.</p></blockquote>
+
+<div>
+<img class="drop-cap" src="images/t.jpg" alt="T" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">Throughout</span> the world there is
+a peculiar similarity in the games of
+the human race, and undoubtedly
+they all spring from the same sources,
+being the result of imitation, by
+children, of the duties and pleasures of the
+elder generation. In the savage races, however,
+we find them in their most primitive and
+interesting state, and in this article I propose
+to describe a few of the least known and most
+peculiar&mdash;some which I have myself witnessed,
+and others that I have collected from well-known
+travellers.</p>
+
+<p>As with ourselves, it is not only the children
+who play, and the pastimes of their grown-up
+brothers are equally interesting. Naturally
+the games of the elders require more skill, and
+in some cases considerably more endurance and
+fortitude. For instance, the whip game, played
+by the red-men of British Guiana, is one that
+calls forth the most enduring qualities of these
+sturdy natives, and is an ordeal in which few
+Englishmen would care to take part. The
+origin of it is not known; some say that it was
+originally an act in a burial scene, but more
+probably it is a festival game.</p>
+
+<p>For all functions in Guiana a copious supply
+of drink is prepared, the local name of which is
+“paiwarie.” This is a native-made fermented
+liquor, which has the desired effect, in its preliminary
+stages, of putting the drinkers into a good
+humour. After a certain quantity of “paiwarie”
+has been handed round, the players of the whip
+game, men and boys, line up in two rows facing
+one another; each is provided with a whip ornamented
+with fibre tassels, those of the two end
+players having whistles attached. When all is
+ready a gentle stamping is commenced, which
+gradually grows louder and louder till the earth
+begins to throb and the players show signs of
+getting worked up. Then shouts of “Yau,
+au!” are heard, and the now excited players
+wave their whips and sway gently backwards
+and forwards as they stamp their feet. Presently
+the two end men with the whistles attached
+to their whips pass down the centre of
+the row, whilst those lined up move slowly
+in an opposite direction. Now the stamping
+increases and the whistlers whistle at each
+other in wild excitement. Then they begin
+waving their whips at one other, feigning to
+strike with tremendous force, but finally they
+come down on their opponents’ calves with only
+a mere touch. After this has gone on for some
+time the two leaders run back to their original
+places at the head of the row, and others go out
+and do as they have done.</p>
+
+<p>When all the players have gone through this
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_355">355</span>
+exhibition the real business begins; so far it has
+only been play.</p>
+
+<p>The women now come on to the scene
+bearing calabashes of wine, which is greedily
+swallowed, and then two of the players challenge
+each other to a real whipping competition.</p>
+
+<p>Silence soon prevails, and the onlookers take
+up their places ready to watch this extraordinary
+ordeal.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as the challenge has been accepted
+the two men step out in front of the audience
+and stand facing each other. As a rule they
+are splendidly-built fellows, and as they wear
+practically no clothing for this ceremony, their
+physical development is very noticeable.</p>
+
+<p>Cautiously they judge their distance, letting
+the lash of the whip just touch their adversary’s
+calf. When they have thoroughly satisfied
+themselves that they can get a perfect swing,
+one of them stands firmly, half turned away
+from the other, who immediately swings his
+whip with tremendous force and brings it down
+on his opponent’s calf with a crack like the report
+of a gun.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i042.jpg">
+<img src="images/i042.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">THE EXTRAORDINARY “WHIP GAME” OF BRITISH GUIANA&mdash;THE COMPETITORS SLASH AT ONE ANOTHER’S BARE LEGS IN
+TURN, OFTEN CUTTING DEEP INTO THE FLESH.<br />
+[<i>From a Photograph.</i>]</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>The man who has received this blow, though
+it has in all probability cut right into his calf,
+does not flinch, but joins the whipper in a wild
+sort of dance, accompanied by loud shouts of
+“Yau, au!” Again the same man presents his
+calf to be cut at, again the lash descends, and
+more dancing follows, until it is time for the
+other man to go through the same ordeal. When
+he has had his share the two adjourn to the hut
+and indulge freely in “paiwarie,” and other
+players take their places, until all the grown-ups
+have tasted of the delights of the game. The
+younger fry then step forth and challenge each
+other. Women, of course, do not take any active
+part in this weird performance beyond handing
+round the drinks.</p>
+
+<p>Though this is rather a strenuous game, there
+are many less painful ones with which the
+children amuse themselves. One of these,
+called the “Jaguar Game,” is similar to our own
+“Fox and Geese.” A long procession of boys
+line up and grip each other by the shoulders,
+and sway backwards and forwards crying out,
+“There is no jaguar to-day!” Whilst they are
+singing this merrily, a youngster bears down upon
+them from his hiding-place amongst the onlookers.
+He comes running along on his hands and one
+leg, the other leg being raised in the air to
+represent the tail of the jaguar. On his appearance
+the whole line of boys is thrown into
+confusion; they grow wildly excited and swerve
+and sway, and dodge round, always keeping in a
+long, snake-like line, with the foremost boy facing
+their adversary, the jaguar. It is the jaguar’s
+duty to catch the last one in the row and bear
+him off to his lair.</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes this game is varied by the jaguar
+having two young cubs with her, who also run
+on “all threes”; they add greatly to the excitement
+of the sport by snapping, snarling, and
+generally behaving as young cubs should. The
+game goes on till all the row has been captured.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_356">356</span></p>
+
+<p>In the “Monkey Game” laughter reaches its
+highest point, for this is one of the wildest they
+play; and not only the children indulge in it,
+but the grown-up men sometimes take it into
+their heads to play it, when it assumes a very
+different aspect. With the children it is pure
+fun, with little or no danger attaching to it.</p>
+
+<p>A crowd of youngsters line up and move
+about like monkeys who are merely enjoying
+themselves. Suddenly one of them stops and
+gives vent to a shriek of fear; the others take
+up the cry and immediately break their line
+and run wildly all over the place, chattering
+excitedly. When the simulated panic is at its
+height the smaller boys spring on to the backs of
+the bigger ones,
+and are raced about
+all over the place
+till fatigue puts an
+end to the fun.
+When their elders
+play the “Monkey
+Game,” however,
+they often become
+so worked up that
+they really behave
+like a crowd of
+monkeys gone
+stark, staring mad.</p>
+
+<p>Sir Everard F. im
+Thurn, K.C.M.G.,
+at present Governor
+of Fiji, to whom I
+am indebted for
+the photographs of
+these Guiana
+games, relates a
+most trying experience
+he went
+through during one
+of these mad frolics.
+He says that the
+players suddenly
+burst in amongst the huts, swarmed up the
+roofs, tearing great mouthfuls of thatch away in
+their flight, and then dashed into the rooms,
+upsetting everything they came across and
+destroying food and furniture. “The old man
+of the settlement and his wife, in real anxiety
+for their goods, tried to protect what they
+could, tearing it even from out of the
+’monkeys’’ hands or throwing food to them
+to distract their attention from more valuable
+property. At last, with the help of two bystanders,
+the old man secured the more violent
+of the players, and, despite some too genuine
+scratchings and bitings, managed to fasten them
+by ropes round their loins, monkey-wise, to the
+posts of houses. At last five had been so caught
+and tied in one house; and then, if there had
+been uproar before, there was pandemonium
+now. The captives screamed and shrieked and
+yelled; they rolled as far as their cords would
+allow, and tore with their teeth everything that
+came in their way: food, clothes, hammocks,
+pans, and calabashes.... The whole mighty
+uproar only ceased when all were literally too
+tired to do more.”</p>
+
+<p>This quaint instance of a game running away
+with its players seems strange to us, but
+probably if a savage saw some of our football
+matches he, too, might think the players had
+suddenly gone mad.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i043.jpg">
+<img src="images/i043.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">THE “SHIELD GAME,” IN WHICH THE COMPETITORS ENDEAVOUR TO PUSH ONE
+ANOTHER OVER&mdash;TRIBAL DISPUTES ARE OCCASIONALLY SETTLED WITHOUT
+BLOODSHED BY CHOSEN TEAMS.<br />
+[<i>From a Photograph.</i>]</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>The “Shield Game” is another pastime of the
+grown-up natives.
+In this each man
+is provided with a
+strong shield made
+of palm-leaf stalks.
+Armed with this
+he faces his opponent.
+After much
+preliminary stamping
+and feigning
+they close and a
+mighty struggle
+commences, in
+which each man
+endeavours to push
+his adversary back.
+It is a kind of tug-of-war
+reversed.
+Besides being a
+game, it is often
+used as a means
+to settle disputes,
+in which, of course,
+the strongest man
+wins. The accompanying
+photograph
+gives an
+excellent idea of
+the pastime. Occasionally when tribes fall out a
+whole line of experts are chosen from each side,
+and the dispute is settled without bloodshed by
+the success of either side. It will be gleaned
+from this that the quality of “pushfulness” has
+an added value in British Guiana.</p>
+
+<p>To go back to the games of children and also
+to jump a few thousand miles to the west, we
+find some interesting and curious pastimes
+among the aboriginals of Australia, where the
+young idea copies the ways of its fathers and
+makes games of their serious ceremonies.
+Amongst other things they play at marriage,
+taking some of the romantic details prior to the
+ceremony to make their game. In some parts
+of Australia an aboriginal has first to catch his
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_357">357</span>
+wife before he can marry her, and the youngsters
+have probably heard from their mothers that
+this was not always the easiest thing to do,
+for there may have been others anxious to wed
+her&mdash;provided always that she was a good
+worker, looks being of small account. So the
+children have taken all these things into consideration
+and made their game from them.</p>
+
+<p>As these aborigines have no proper villages,
+but live in shelters thrown together in the most
+primitive fashion, the children choose a spot in
+the bush where Nature has made a sort of
+covering; they then congregate and imitate
+grown-up people, chattering about nothing in
+particular, whilst the young man hovers round in
+the bush. Suddenly he bears down on the
+players and attempts to abduct one of the girls.
+This arouses the others, who all try to stop him,
+and one of the young gallants attacks the would-be
+abductor and a mock fight ensues, the
+winner bearing the maiden off in triumph to
+the bush.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i044.jpg">
+<img src="images/i044.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">AN AUSTRALIAN ABORIGINAL CORROBOREE<br />
+<i>From a Photo. by permission of the Queensland Government.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Amongst the men there are few real games;
+they all seem to take life rather seriously, and
+as soon as they are grown up they devote their
+whole time to obtaining food and taking part in
+the numerous religious ceremonies, some of
+which are most elaborate and trying functions.
+To us these may appear very like games, but to
+the aborigines they are particularly sacred. Of late
+years, however, they have turned one or two of
+these ceremonies into dances or corroborees,
+but probably this has been done to amuse the
+whites and extract money from them&mdash;like the
+Maoris, who now dance the “Haka” as if it were a
+spectacular dance for the benefit of the Pakeha.
+With the coming of civilization and peace
+some phases of its serious import have gone.
+The photograph given above shows Australian
+aborigines performing the kangaroo dance,
+which is a modified exhibition of one of their
+ancient ceremonies. It is not an exciting affair,
+nor beautiful, as these savages are not adepts
+at dancing. All they do is to crawl about,
+stamping and gesticulating, whilst the man
+dressed as a kangaroo goes backwards and forwards
+and up and down the line with a sort of
+high-stepping action. This kangaroo dance at
+one time had a significant meaning, and was
+probably danced in connection with an old-time
+legend, but, like many similar ceremonies,
+it is now carried on simply because the
+ancestors of the present generation taught it.
+This in itself would be quite sufficient to keep
+the most absurd custom alive, for ancestors are
+held in great reverence amongst savages.</p>
+
+<p>One of the most amusing games I have ever
+witnessed in savage lands was in New Zealand,
+where I saw a crowd of children dancing an
+imitation “Haka.” The “Haka,” when danced
+seriously by grown-ups, is a most awe-inspiring
+and thrilling exhibition which stirs every
+nerve in your body; but when children
+dance it, it becomes a grotesque and laughable
+affair. The Maoris, men, women, and
+children, have a well-developed sense of
+humour, which is more than most savages have,
+and the word “savage” hardly applies to them,
+for more civilized and Christian beings would be
+hard to find. When white men first came in
+contact with them they found them anything
+but civilized except in their ideas of justice, in
+which they were able to give us lessons; in
+hospitality even now they can put a white man
+to shame. However, for the purpose of this
+article I will call them savages.</p>
+
+<p>The children from their earliest days begin to
+laugh. I do not remember ever seeing one cry&mdash;and
+they seem to spend the rest of their days
+with a smile hovering somewhere near their
+faces, ready at the slightest provocation to come
+out. As the “Haka” is composed of a series
+of body movements, in which facial expression
+plays a prominent part, the children have plenty
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_358">358</span>
+of scope to caricature the whole performance,
+which they turn into a merry pantomime,
+stamping and shouting, rolling their eyes,
+and hanging out their tongues in curious
+imitation of the real performers. The girls,
+too, have their dances, and
+these are really both pretty
+and interesting, for they are
+handsome creatures who
+know they are good looking,
+and enjoy showing themselves
+off to the best advantage, as
+one can see by the pretty and
+fascinating movements of the
+various dances they practise.
+The only thing that mars
+them is their anxiety to make
+grotesque faces every now
+and then, but perhaps this
+too is done by way of contrast.
+The men have the
+same failing, and though their
+expressions are more savage
+they do not add to the charm
+of the dances. To perform
+a dance of welcome in front
+of a visiting tribe, and pull
+horrible faces at them the
+while, is hardly likely to make
+the visitors feel at home, but
+the Maoris understand it,
+and so do not get cross, as
+you and I might.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i045a.jpg">
+<img src="images/i045a.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">MAORI BOYS PERFORMING THE “HAKA.”<br />
+<i>From a Photo. by permission of the New Zealand Government Tourist Department.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>In the Solomon Islands, British New Guinea,
+and the New Hebrides the children are also of
+a playful disposition and have many games
+which resemble ours, such as leap-frog and
+pick-a-back, whilst the elder generation have
+musical instruments resembling
+the jews’ harp, the
+fiddle, and the Pandean
+pipes.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i045b.jpg">
+<img src="images/i045b.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">A YOUNG NICOBARESE ISLANDER PLAYING A
+FLAGEOLET WITH HIS NOSE.<br />
+<i>From a Photo. by E. H. Man.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Certain musical instruments
+are more or less
+common all over the world,
+but often the method of
+playing them differs, as the
+accompanying photograph
+will show. It represents a
+young Nicobarese playing a
+reed flageolet with his nose!
+Lots of people in the most
+civilized lands sing through
+their noses, but playing
+through them is, I believe,
+only practised in savage
+lands. In these same islands
+the natives have a sounding-board
+which I suppose they
+would call a musical instrument,
+for it takes the place
+of the well-known tom-tom
+used in other countries. Here
+it is beaten to keep time for
+dancers. It is a curiously
+constructed instrument,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_359">359</span>
+resembling a native shield; in fact, some
+travellers have mistaken it for one. Scooped
+out of the trunk of a tree in the same way that
+ordinary dug-out canoes are made, it is about
+five feet long and two or three feet broad;
+like a shield, it is concave in shape. One of
+the ends is pointed, and when in use this
+is stuck in the ground diagonally; a stone
+is placed under the other end to raise it. To
+play it the native plants one foot firmly on the
+buried end whilst he strikes the board with his
+disengaged foot.</p>
+
+<p>“Musical” entertainments are popular in
+the Nicobar Islands, and the young men vie
+with each other in composing ditties which
+they hope will become popular and thus make
+them famous. So far none of these songs have
+been pirated in England, but this does not say
+that in the islands they are not “all the go.”
+Such tunes are composed to be sung to the
+accompaniment of the sounding-board and
+dances. These, among the women, resemble
+more than anything else the antics of timid
+ladies bathing at the seaside. The dancing of
+the men is not much help to the musician
+either, as it consists of a few movements rather
+like dumb-bell exercises for chest development,
+so that it can be understood that the young
+Nicobarese has no light task before him when
+he seeks fame in composition.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i046.jpg">
+<img src="images/i046.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">A CURIOUS DANCE POPULAR IN THE NICOBAR ISLANDS.<br />
+<i>From a Photo. by E. H. Man.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>On the West Coast of Africa there is a remarkably
+interesting dance in which the movements
+of the dancer supply the “music.” For
+the particulars of this dance and for the photograph
+of the performers I have to thank Mr.
+T. J. Alldridge, some time District Commissioner.
+The native dancing girls wear most
+fantastic garments. Their bodies are covered
+with a net made of native cotton, from which
+hang great bunches of palm-leaf fibre. Tufts
+of the same material decorate their wrists
+and waists, and some wear curious knicker-bockers.
+To these latter garments are attached
+small pieces of hollow iron, from which rings
+are hung, and when the dancer gets in full
+swing these make a curious jingling noise. An
+accompaniment is also played by other women
+on another quaint instrument called a <i>sehgura</i>,
+which is made out of a hollow gourd covered
+with a net, on which are fixed a number of
+seeds. To produce the sound the ends of the
+net are held in the two hands and tightened
+and slackened alternately, while rhythmic
+shaking is now and then indulged in to vary
+the accompaniment.</p>
+
+<p>In this part of the world there are several
+interesting games of chance, for natives are
+inveterate gamblers and will stake all they
+possess&mdash;huts, wearing apparel, and even their
+wives. One of their favourite pastimes is
+played with a concave board, which is put on
+the ground facing the players, who stand or
+squat a little way off. They then spin a sort of
+top into and across it until one of them fails to
+send it with sufficient force to carry it to the
+far end; it is then the business of the next
+man to spin his top with sufficient force to drive
+his opponent’s out, and so beat him.</p>
+
+<p>Gambling seems to be common in all parts of
+the world; the Eskimo have many interesting
+games where chance and skill are combined.
+One called “nuglutang” is very popular and is
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_360">360</span>
+played by several
+men at a time.
+From the centre
+of the room
+(generally from
+the roof) is slung
+a plate of ivory
+having a hole in
+its centre. The
+Eskimos stand
+away from it, and
+each in turn endeavours
+to throw
+a stick through
+the orifice. In one
+of their games,
+called “saketan,”
+they have a
+curious way of
+“staking.” The
+game is a sort of
+roulette; a board
+is placed on the
+ground, and a
+small cup with
+rounded bottom
+and a lip is spun
+on to it. The
+man in front of
+whom the lip
+stops is the winner,
+but, unlike most
+winners, he is actually
+a loser, for he
+has to go and fetch something to pay in as a
+stake, which the next “winner” takes, but he
+in turn pays in another forfeit in its place for
+the man who follows. So the game goes on
+until the last man wins,
+and he appropriates the
+stakes out and out, making
+himself the only real
+winner, whereas the first
+player to whom the cup
+pointed is the only loser
+in a game which causes
+the wildest excitement
+whilst the issue is in
+doubt.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i047a.jpg">
+<img src="images/i047a.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">WEST AFRICAN DANCING GIRLS.<br />
+<i>From a Photograph.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>It is a peculiar thing that
+string games, like some
+others already mentioned,
+are popular all
+over the world
+amongst the
+coloured races,
+and what is perhaps
+far more extraordinary
+is the
+fact, recently discovered,
+that some
+of these string
+figures are made
+in exactly the same
+way, and are of
+the same design
+in places as widely
+apart as America,
+the South Sea
+Islands, and
+Japan. The last
+photograph, taken
+by Mr. William
+A. Cunnington,
+shows a very
+interesting string
+figure from Central
+Africa called
+“Sumbo” (a fishing
+net), which
+is by no means a
+simple one.</p>
+
+<p>For the description
+of this figure
+and permission to
+reproduce the
+photograph I have to thank the Secretary of
+the Anthropological Institute.</p>
+
+<p>Besides having tricks of this sort in which the
+hands only are employed, there are many now
+known which are made
+with hands and feet, and
+others again are worked
+round the neck and the
+hands.</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Haddon has made
+a particular study of the
+subject, and has, in
+collaboration with Dr.
+Rivers, published particulars
+of many of the
+string tricks performed
+in various parts of the
+world.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i047b.jpg">
+<img src="images/i047b.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">STRING GAMES ARE POPULAR ALL OVER THE
+WORLD&mdash;HERE IS AN INTERESTING FIGURE FROM
+CENTRAL AFRICA.<br />
+<i>From a Photograph.</i>
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_361">361</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<h2 id="The_Marriage_of_Lulu"><i>The Marriage of Lulu.</i><br />
+
+<span class="smcap medium">By the Rev. A. Forder, of Jerusalem.</span></h2>
+
+<blockquote>
+
+<p>The author is a missionary who has travelled extensively in the East, and is thoroughly familiar
+with the wild tribes of the desert. In the subjoined narrative he relates the love-story of a young
+Arab girl&mdash;a real life romance with the conventional happy ending of fiction.</p></blockquote>
+
+<div>
+<img class="drop-cap" src="images/i.jpg" alt="I" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">It</span> was that time of the day which
+Orientals call <i>asr</i>, between four
+o’clock and sunset&mdash;just the time
+when the Arab chief likes to be on
+hand so that he may receive and
+welcome any who may seek the hospitality and
+shelter afforded by his simple home, and see
+for himself that sufficient food for man and
+beast is provided, so that both may sup and be
+satisfied.</p>
+
+<p>On a certain afternoon Sheikh Khaleel sat
+at his tent door watching the sun slowly sink
+toward the west, wondering, as he pulled at the
+dying embers in his pipe, if it would be his lot
+to entertain any guest that night.</p>
+
+<p>As his sharp eyes looked out from under his
+shaggy eyebrows he saw in the distance a rider
+mounted on a camel, whose head was directed
+straight for the camp under the chief’s control.</p>
+
+<p>It was not long before both camel and rider
+stood at the door of the guest-tent, and the
+chief, having tethered the ship of the desert to
+one of the tent-pegs, invited his guest to enter,
+and at once set about preparing the coffee
+according to Arab custom.</p>
+
+<p>The new arrival, whose name was Abd-el-Thullam
+(the servant of cruelty) was well
+known to the Arabs for scores of miles round,
+and a visit from him always meant something
+unusual and of importance, hence the wonder
+of the host and his neighbours at the coming
+of one with so uninviting a name, which was
+obtained by deeds that gave subject for conversation
+around many a camp-fire after supper.
+Speculations as to the coming of this well-known
+chief were many, and although not audibly
+expressed filled the minds of all present, and
+of none more so than the women, who were
+separated from the menfolk only by the coarse
+goats’-hair curtain that divided the tent. Little
+did the host’s only daughter think that she was
+the cause of this unexpected visitor coming
+among them, or how much his presence meant
+to her and others.</p>
+
+<p>Arab etiquette forbids any direct asking of
+questions or quizzing into the affairs of a guest,
+so both before and after supper the conversation
+was upon subjects far away from the one that
+had brought Abd-el-Thullam into the camp of
+Sheikh Khaleel, and the simple folk of the
+wilderness closed their eyes in sleep without
+having the faintest idea of the object of Abd-el-Thullam’s
+visit.</p>
+
+<p>With the morning light the camp was astir,
+both men and women going about their daily
+callings, each one wondering what the day would
+reveal. After the matutinal cup of coffee the
+guest made known the object of his coming,
+doing so in such forceful and measured language
+as to impress upon the little company of
+listeners the fact that his wishes must be complied
+with.</p>
+
+<p>Condensed into a few words, the rather
+lengthy speech of the “servant of cruelty” was
+somewhat as follows: “Sheikh Khaleel, may
+Allah grant you a long life and build your
+house (grant you sons to perpetuate your name
+and family). To the women of my household I
+desire to add another, for has not our Prophet
+given us permission to have four wives? Already
+I have three. Now I have come to ask for
+your daughter, and am ready to give the price
+that you may ask for her. As I am to join a
+raiding party in a few days the matter must be
+settled at once. May Allah give you patience
+and wisdom.”</p>
+
+<p>The statement was so unexpected that no one
+could make reply for a minute or so. At last
+the silence was broken by Khaleel saying, “The
+will of Allah be done! What is decreed must
+come to pass.”</p>
+
+<p>Now, the business of a betrothal and marriage
+is not usually hurried among Arabs, for much
+talking is necessary to settle the price of the
+bride, and time is needed in which to pay the
+amount agreed upon, and to arrange and comply
+with the wedding festivities and customs.
+Hence Sheikh Khaleel and his neighbours were
+surprised in a two-fold way, first by the boldness
+of the request, and secondly by the desire to
+hasten the matter. So, reminding the impatient
+suitor that “God was with the patient ones,”
+Khaleel bade him wait a while.</p>
+
+<p>But the man desirous of many wives pressed
+his claim and asked the price of the girl, again
+saying that he was ready to give whatever was
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>All the while Khaleel had been wondering if
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_362">362</span>
+this was not his chance to make a good bargain,
+although for two reasons he was loath to part
+with his daughter, whose name was Lulu (the
+pearl). Was she not his only daughter&mdash;in fact,
+the only child Allah had spared to him? Moreover,
+although there had been no formal or
+public betrothal, he knew well enough that
+Lulu’s heart and affections had already been
+won by a young man of his own camp and
+community. But here was the opportunity to
+drive a good and hard bargain. And what did
+it matter, after all? It was only about a girl,
+who might any day be taken ill and die; also,
+he might have to get her off at a small return
+later on if he allowed this chance to slip by.</p>
+
+<p>At last Khaleel spoke, making known the
+terms on which his daughter could become the
+fourth wife of the unwelcome guest. They were
+as follows: a mare, one hundred goats, fifty
+sheep, and two hundred silver medjidiehs (each
+worth three and fourpence), all to be paid
+within three days, with the stipulation that,
+should Lulu die before the time for taking her
+to her new home, viz., seven days of feasting,
+the above payment should become the sole
+property of Chief Khaleel, her father. In
+addition to the above the new son-in-law was
+to give for five successive years one hundred
+measures of new wheat and fifty of barley.</p>
+
+<p>The terms were received in silence, and anyone
+glancing at the faces of those assembled
+could gather that each thought the price high,
+but all knew that the visiting chief was rich and
+well able to pay the fee demanded, if he chose
+to do so.</p>
+
+<p>Nearly the whole day
+was spent in arguing, persuasion,
+and calculation,
+but Sheikh Khaleel was
+immovable, the more so
+as he saw a chance of
+getting his terms.</p>
+
+<p>Finding that talking was
+of no avail, Abd-el-Thullam
+finally consented to
+the terms on condition
+that, as soon as the purchase
+price was paid, the
+seven days of wedding
+festivities should commence.
+To this Khaleel
+gave his consent, and,
+although the day was far
+spent, the prospective
+bridegroom mounted a
+horse which had been
+brought for him and rode
+away, leaving the camel
+on which he had arrived
+as an earnest of his return. For three days the
+camel was tied before the guest-tent, and was
+only redeemed just in time to save it from being
+forfeited.</p>
+
+<p>We must now leave the guest-tent and for
+a time consider some other people who were
+keenly interested in the happenings just related.</p>
+
+<p>First, a word about Lulu. As already stated,
+she was the only child of her father, and, such
+being the case, she was naturally better cared
+for and more thought of than if there had been
+rivals in the shape of brothers. Her father
+spared her in many ways the indignities so
+commonly imposed upon females in the East,
+one distinction between her and other girls of
+the tribe being that her face had not been
+tattooed.</p>
+
+<p>At the time of our story her age was about
+fourteen. The bloom of youth on her cheek,
+with the uprightness of figure so common among
+Arab girls, made her queenly in appearance in
+spite of her oft-patched flowing robes.</p>
+
+<p>Among her own kith and kin she reigned
+supreme, for, having lost her mother soon after
+her birth, she had claimed the nursing and
+attention of most of the women in the camp;
+hence she was ruled by none and spoiled by all.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i049.jpg">
+<img src="images/i049.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">“FOR THREE DAYS THE CAMEL WAS TIED BEFORE THE GUEST-TENT.”<br />
+<i>From a Photograph.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Some of the youths, too, had paid her
+attention, and, having grown up side by side
+with her, were more than mere friends. One,
+whose name was Abd-Salaam (the servant of
+peace), had even found it in his heart to love
+her, which aspiration he knew was not in vain,
+for on more than one occasion Lulu had assured
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_363">363</span>
+him that when the time came for her to become
+a wife none but the “servant of peace” would
+suffice.</p>
+
+<p>Now it so happened that all that had passed
+and been settled in the guest-tent between father
+and visitor was unknown to either Lulu or her
+lover, for the former had been away all day
+gathering fuel on the hill-sides in company with
+another girl, while Abd-Salaam had gone with
+others to a distant town in charge of some
+sheep, the day he left the camp being the one
+on which the wife-seeker arrived.</p>
+
+<p>It is customary among the Arabs for the girl
+who is to be betrothed not to be consulted as
+to any likes or dislikes on her part, and she
+knows nothing about her being traded off to
+some stranger until informed by having the large
+outer garment of the suitor thrown around her,
+and hearing the announcement that she belongs
+to him.</p>
+
+<p>The surprise of Lulu, therefore, on her return
+to the camp may be imagined when the scribe
+of the community approached her and, all
+unawares, covered her with a large camel-hair
+<i>abba</i>, saying, “The name of God be with thee,
+O Lulu. None shall have thee but Abd-el-Thullam.”</p>
+
+<p>Surprised as she was, she threw off the cloak
+and entered the tent, inwardly vowing that none
+should have her but the constant companion of
+her girlhood. With the liberty allowed her as
+the chief’s daughter she went into the guest-tent,
+and, with hands clenched and determination
+written on her face, informed her father that her
+home and lot should not be among strangers,
+and that the hated “servant of cruelty” should
+be no husband of hers. In this way warfare was
+declared, and the probability of trouble in the
+near future announced.</p>
+
+<p>That night she was sprinkled with sheep’s
+blood, as a sign that her life belonged to another.
+Next day she was accompanied by the women
+to a spring, and, according to custom, thoroughly
+washed and purified, while on the day following
+busy fingers worked incessantly making a
+wedding-robe for the supposed bride. Lulu
+tolerated all these formalities in silence, but
+inwardly decided that, do what they would and
+act as they might, she would never be the bride
+of the one who was to supplant the choice of
+long ago.</p>
+
+<p>The afternoon of the third day came round,
+but no suitor with the price of the bride had
+appeared, and it looked as though Lulu would
+be released from her probable marriage, and
+her father become the possessor of a camel
+for little trouble. Just an hour before sunset,
+however, a cloud of dust in the distance told of
+the coming of flocks, and ere the golden orb
+disappeared altogether Abd-el-Thullam had
+handed over what was demanded in return for
+his prospective bride. The bleating of the
+sheep and the clinking of the silver pieces only
+made Lulu vow afresh that no tent of a stranger
+should shelter her.</p>
+
+<p>The price having been paid in the presence
+of witnesses, the wedding festivities commenced.
+The firing of old flint-lock guns was the signal
+that announced holiday-keeping for a week.
+Sheep were killed, bread baked in abundance,
+and coffee-drinking went on continuously. This
+is a time much appreciated by the dwellers of
+the wilderness, for then they are able to satisfy
+the cravings of hunger and for once in a season
+eat until satisfied.</p>
+
+<p>Whilst the men raced on their horses or
+fought imaginary battles, the women whiled
+away the hours in dancing, singing, or sipping
+coffee between puffs at their long pipes. So the
+days passed, and the end of the marriage feast
+approached.</p>
+
+<p>Only Lulu took no part or interest in all that
+was going on, and as the men or women
+chanted in turn the virtues, praises, and good
+fortune of both bride and bridegroom, it all fell
+like water on a duck’s back so far as the girl-bride
+was concerned. Inwardly she longed for
+the return of her boy lover, so that he might
+in some way intervene to stop the proceedings,
+and so win her for himself according to their
+mutual pledge.</p>
+
+<p>But the “servant of peace” did not come,
+for the demand in the town for sheep was poor,
+and he had to wait many days ere the flock was
+disposed of and he free to return to his goats’-hair
+home. As time and tide wait for no man,
+neither did the last day of the wedding festivities
+tarry, and all too soon for the greatly-distressed
+Lulu the seventh day dawned, and with it no
+visible escape from what seemed her inevitable
+fate.</p>
+
+<p>With the constant attention of the women,
+escape by flight was well-nigh impossible, but
+before noon a probable way of deliverance
+presented itself which Lulu was not slow to
+grasp. A small company of gipsies arrived at
+the camp, one of whom&mdash;an old woman&mdash;professed
+a knowledge of drugs, and verified
+her statements by producing a small box of
+mysterious-looking compounds in powder.</p>
+
+<p>The arrival of the party drew away attention
+from Lulu, but she engaged the attention of the
+vender of drugs, and elicited from her the fact
+that among her wares was poison. It was only
+the work of a few minutes to exchange cash for
+a mysterious powder, directions for the use of
+which were imparted to Lulu in an undertone.</p>
+
+<p>As evening drew on preparations were made
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_364">364</span>
+for the sending away after supper of bride
+and bridegroom. The camel that was to carry
+Lulu to her new home was decorated and made
+ready, and the torches and tom-toms seen to and
+handed out to those who were to accompany
+the procession on its way to the camp of Abd-el-Thullam.
+It seemed that nothing remained to
+be done save to partake of supper and start.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i051.jpg">
+<img src="images/i051.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">“IT WAS ONLY THE WORK OF A FEW MINUTES TO EXCHANGE CASH FOR A
+MYSTERIOUS POWDER.”</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>During the serving of the unusually large
+meal, which occupied the attention of the women
+for a time, Lulu slipped out backwards under
+the rear curtain
+of the tent and
+disappeared.
+Few missed her
+for a time, for
+all were busy,
+but when the
+call was given,
+“Bring out the
+bride and let
+her husband
+claim her,” great
+was the astonishment,
+for no
+bride was on
+hand. One
+abused the
+other, and the
+angry bridegroom
+accused
+his host of
+treachery and
+would have shot
+him but for the
+interference of
+others, who reminded
+him
+again that Allah
+was with the
+patient ones.</p>
+
+<p>All denied
+that the girl was
+dead, for had
+they not seen
+her alive only a
+short time before?
+She would
+return soon,
+they said, and
+put an end to
+the confusion and mystery.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile scouts were
+sent out around the camp,
+only to return later without
+tidings of the fugitive. All
+that night watch was kept,
+but morning dawned without
+the mystery being
+solved, and as the day wore on speculations
+were indulged in as to whom the purchase price
+of Lulu belonged, for, although she had now
+disappeared, she on her part had not done
+anything within the seven days of the feast to
+cause her intended master to claim the price
+paid for her. The sun set again without any
+light being shed on the disappearance or whereabouts
+of the girl-bride, and Abd-el-Thullam
+was furious at being balked of his prey, swearing
+by every oath available that he would lose
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_365">365</span>
+neither wife nor purchase price, even if the
+regaining of one or the other made lifelong
+enmity between the two tribes.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i052a.jpg">
+<img src="images/i052a.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">“AN OLD TOMB HEWN IN THE SIDE OF THE CISTERN.”<br />
+[<i>From a Photograph.</i>]</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>We must now leave the puzzled company in
+the guest-tent and see what had become of Lulu.
+After slipping under the tent-cloth, she commenced
+to run as fast as her bare feet would
+permit her. In her excitement and joy at being
+free she cared little in which direction she fled,
+and although the night was unusually dark, by
+reason of heavy storm-clouds, she sped on over
+hill and valley until thoroughly tired and exhausted.
+As she rested her weary little
+frame on the soft herbage of the wilderness
+the solitude and stillness made her nervous
+and afraid. Her trepidation was not lessened
+by a sudden movement near her&mdash;made,
+probably, by a jackal more alarmed than
+herself.</p>
+
+<p>The fright made her rise quickly and again
+take to flight, but after running a few hundred
+yards misfortune overtook her, for, without
+warning, she tripped and fell headlong into
+an old unused cistern quite twenty-five feet
+deep. The fall made her unconscious, and
+as the pit was far from the camp she was
+safe for that night, while a tangle of creepers
+and thorns over the mouth of the cavity
+made her fairly secure by day.</p>
+
+<p>Here, bruised and unconscious, the poor
+little bride-to-be lay until daybreak, when, with
+the rising sun, her senses returned to her.
+Having considered her surroundings, she
+decided to secure herself further by creeping
+into an old tomb hewn in the side of the
+cistern, where at least she could
+die in peace rather than be the
+slave of one utterly distasteful to
+her. So, with one last fond
+thought for her absent lover, she
+swallowed the gipsy’s potion and
+crawled into the small aperture.
+Here she soon fell into a stupor,
+caused partly by weariness, but
+mainly by the powder bought
+from the old drug-vender.</p>
+
+<p>But what had become of the
+boy-lover all these days that he
+had not returned to the camp
+and become conversant with all
+that had happened to his little
+companion?</p>
+
+<p>As already stated, he was
+delayed by a slack market; but
+after some days he was free to
+return, and, in charge of two
+camels, he set out for his wilderness
+home. On the day after Lulu’s
+escape he was crossing the great
+plain, happy at the prospect of reaching camp
+before evening. Being somewhat religiously
+inclined, he halted at noonday to pray, and soon
+after remounting was warned to seek shelter from
+a storm that was announced by a sharp crack of
+thunder. Looking about him he saw a cavity
+in the ground wide and high enough to allow
+his camels to enter. By dint of pulling, coaxing,
+and beating he forced the beasts in, and at last
+all three found themselves in the same pit into
+which Lulu had fallen the night before.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i052b.jpg">
+<img src="images/i052b.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">“HE HALTED AT NOONDAY TO PRAY.”<br />
+<i>From a Photograph.</i>
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_366">366</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i053.jpg">
+<img src="images/i053.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">“SUDDENLY HE WAS SEEN TO FALL HEAVILY.”</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>The heavy rain dripping through the opening
+above made the youth seek better shelter, so he
+presently crept into the old tomb, and, to his
+amazement, found that it was already occupied
+by someone apparently deep in slumber.</p>
+
+<p>Curiosity made him try to rouse the sleeper,
+but it was of no use. Crawling farther in, it was
+not long before the amazed camel-boy discovered
+that the insensible girl was his dearly-loved
+Lulu. Assuring himself that she was not dead,
+and, of course, ignorant of the circumstances
+that had brought her to the cavern, he left her,
+and, taking the best of the two camels, rode off
+post-haste to carry the news of Lulu’s condition
+to the camp and get help.</p>
+
+<p>The announcement
+caused a
+good deal of talk,
+stir, and excitement,
+which was
+suddenly put a
+stop to by Abd-el-Thullam
+jumping
+on his mare
+and making off at
+full speed toward
+the cavern, hoping
+to be the
+first to secure his
+dearly-bought
+bride.</p>
+
+<p>Others joined
+in the race, but
+it seemed as if
+no one would
+overtake the
+eager chief, when
+suddenly he was
+seen to fall
+heavily, having
+been thrown to
+the ground by
+his mare putting
+her foot into a
+hole.</p>
+
+<p>He did not
+move, and
+when the others
+reached him they discovered to their consternation
+that he had broken his neck and was
+quite dead. Instead of a reluctant bride being
+escorted to the distant camp, therefore, the corpse
+of the unfortunate chief was carried thither.</p>
+
+<p>On reaching the cavern the men found Lulu
+still deep in the drug-induced slumber, and,
+making a rough litter out of their roomy outer
+garments, they carried her to their camp and laid
+her on her rude bed of heather and dry grass.</p>
+
+<p>Fortunately, the old gipsy-woman had not left
+the camp, and now, taking in the situation, she
+administered a dose of some concoction that
+soon had the effect of rousing the sleeper and
+making her able to explain her presence in the
+rock-hewn tomb.</p>
+
+<p>Slowly but surely Lulu regained vigour, and
+the old youthful spirit came again, much to the
+joy of Abd-Salaam and her father. After a few
+weeks another marriage feast was kept, for there
+was now no obstacle to the wedding of the lovers,
+the price of the bride having been paid by the
+ill-fated “servant of cruelty.” The affair was hurried
+this time, for the feast was to have a happy ending;
+love, instead of custom, had won the day.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_367">367</span></p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<div class="figcenter">
+<img id="THE_BREAKER" src="images/i054a.jpg"
+alt="THE BREAKER OF RECORDS." />
+<h2><span class="hidden">THE BREAKER OF RECORDS.<br /></span>
+<span class="smcap medium">By Herbert G. Ponting</span>, F.R.G.S</h2>
+</div>
+
+<blockquote>
+
+<p>The amusing story of an American who set out to eclipse the round-the-world record. The author,
+himself a globe-trotter of many years’ standing, describes him as “the most extraordinary man I ever
+met,” and after reading the narrative we fancy the reader will be inclined to agree with him.</p></blockquote>
+
+<div>
+<img class="drop-cap" src="images/i.jpg" alt="I" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">I met</span> him at Dalny, in August,
+1903&mdash;the year before war broke
+out between Japan and Russia.</p>
+
+<p>I had been travelling in Manchuria,
+and had come down from
+Mukden only just in time to catch, by the skin
+of my teeth, the weekly steamer to Japan. The
+train was more than an hour late, and the
+drosky that I hired at the station&mdash;with my
+luggage piled in anyhow by the Chinese porters&mdash;had
+been driven by the dishevelled moujik in
+charge at a pace that laughed at speed limits
+and scorned such trifling obstacles as ruts and
+holes nearly a foot in depth.</p>
+
+<p>As we tore up to the steamer’s berth at the
+great wharf, that was later to prove of such
+inestimable value to the Japanese, the driver
+shouting and lashing his three horses into foam,
+the gangway was on the point of being lowered,
+and I had horrible visions of having to spend a
+week in that most dead of dead-alive towns, in
+which I already seemed to know every house.</p>
+
+<p>With commendable courtesy, however, the
+officials permitted me to get myself and effects
+on board, and a moment later we were steaming
+out into the fine harbour.</p>
+
+<p>The steamer was the <i>Mongolia</i>, which had
+the misfortune six months later to be the first
+Russian vessel captured by the Japanese.</p>
+
+<p>I was leaning over the rail, watching the hills
+receding from view, when I suddenly felt a tap
+on my shoulder, and on looking round was confronted
+by a rather sallow-faced, wiry-looking
+individual of medium height, with steel-grey
+eyes that seemed to pierce through mine clean
+into my brain.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i054b.jpg">
+<img src="images/i054b.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">“THE DRIVER SHOUTING AND LASHING HIS THREE HORSES INTO FOAM.”
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_368">368</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>“Say, d’you speak English?” he asked me.</p>
+
+<p>I admitted that, being an Englishman, I had
+a moderate command of the language.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I ain’t English, I’m Amur’can,” he
+replied.</p>
+
+<p>“So I see.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, say now, how’d you know I was
+Amur’can?”</p>
+
+<p>“By your accent; one would scarcely
+make the mistake of taking you for anything
+else.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, say, you’re smart enough to be an
+Amur’can, too, at that rate. Anyhow, I’m
+mighty glad to see you, for since I parted with
+my friend, who went to Port Arthur, I ain’t had
+a chance of hearin’ a language that anyone could
+understand. I’m out to beat the record round
+the world for the <i>New York</i> &mdash;&mdash;, and if I only
+make it in Japan I’ll beat the previous best by
+exactly twelve days.”</p>
+
+<p>He then related to me how he had left New
+York and travelled <i>vi&acirc;</i> Liverpool, London,
+Dover, Ostend, Berlin, Moscow, and the Trans-Siberian
+Railway to Dalny; and here he was,
+bound for Nagasaki, Japan, where he would
+take the train for Yokohama, and thence travel
+by the <i>Empress of India</i> to Vancouver, by the
+Canadian Pacific Railway to Quebec, and from
+there back to New York.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m going to publish a book on the trip, and
+I’ve got about enough information to fill it
+already. Say, though, my wife’ll be glad to see
+me back again in New York. She’s a beautiful
+woman, my wife. She’s tall and dark, and has
+a straight-front figure&mdash;a woman can’t be
+fashionable without a straight-front figure&mdash;and
+when she walks she leans forward like a
+kangaroo and does the glide. Ever seen it?
+I tell you, sir, there’s nuthin’ like it; and it
+takes a New York girl to do it properly, and
+there ain’t many girls in New York as can lick
+my wife at walkin’. I’ll introduce you to her
+sometime if I ever see you in New York, an’ if
+you don’t say she’s about the slickest thing you
+ever saw in skirts, well, you ain’t much of a
+judge o’ weather.</p>
+
+<p>“Say, now that I come to look at you, I’ve
+seen you before, I guess,” he rattled on.
+“Wasn’t you the chap that come rushin’ on to
+the platform at Mukden just as our train was
+movin’ out of the station?”</p>
+
+<p>I acknowledged that I was. Owing to the
+impossibility of obtaining any reliable information
+in the town, several miles away, as to
+the time of departure of the trains, I had reached
+the station, to my great chagrin, just in time to
+see the <i>train de luxe</i> move away from the
+platform. I had thus been compelled to take
+a slow and very dirty train three hours later,
+and hence the reason of my nearly missing the
+boat at Dalny.</p>
+
+<p>“Looks as if cuttin’ things fine was rather in
+your line, eh? Say, though, you couldn’t take
+risks like that if you was doin’ a record round
+the world. You nearly missed this boat. I
+was watchin’ you, and if you’d been on my job
+you’d have perspired like a pig as you was
+drivin’ up to the wharf, with that woolly-faced
+pirate yellin’ and thrashin’ them horses to soapsuds,
+and the steamer whistle blowin’ and the
+whole durned push hollerin’ and monkeyin’
+with the ropes of the gangway. You’d have
+had your heart in your boots, young feller, if
+you’d been on my lay-out and seen how near
+you came to botchin’ up the whole job.</p>
+
+<p>“And talkin’ of botchin’ jobs, if this steamer
+doesn’t arrive in Nagasaki in time to catch the
+eight o’clock train on Thursday, I’m done.
+That train’ll just give me time to catch the
+<i>Empress</i> at Yokohama. If I miss it there ain’t
+another boat until the <i>Gaelic</i> for San Francisco,
+nine days later, and as that’s a slower route I’ll
+be fourteen days longer than if I catch the
+<i>Empress</i>. Gee whiz, though, it’ll break my wife’s
+heart if I don’t clip that twelve days off the
+record. She and I figured this whole thing out
+together months before I started.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, this boat’s due to arrive at Nagasaki at
+eleven o’clock, and if she does no better’n that
+there’s no power on earth can help me; the
+game’s lost. Guess I’ll have to try and square
+the captain to get her into harbour by seven
+o’clock. If I can’t do that my wife’ll be heartbroken;
+she’s set her heart on this. You ought
+to see her; she’s the finest girl in New York&mdash;tall
+and slender, with dark eyes and hair, and
+she’s got a straight-front figure. But, say, I
+guess I’ll have to try and square the captain; I
+ain’t a nervous man, but I’m gettin’ nervous
+about this.”</p>
+
+<p>With that he took me on one side, where
+there was no possibility of any eavesdropping,
+and, drawing his watch from his pocket, said,
+“You see that watch? How much do you
+suppose it’s worth?”</p>
+
+<p>I looked at it closely. It appeared to be a
+handsome gold-cased, centre-seconds hunter, but,
+after the American fashion, the gold was not hallmarked.
+I confessed that I could form no idea
+of its value, but it appeared to me to be an
+expensive one.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s a most difficult thing for anyone but an
+expert to tell the value of a watch, and you
+aren’t the only one to think this is somethin’
+choice,” said my new acquaintance. “Now
+you’ve got a whole lot to learn, and I’m goin’ to
+put you up to a tip that’ll save you a pile of
+money. There’s not many experts on watches
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_369">369</span>
+to be met with travellin’, and most people would
+think this worth fifty dollars at least. That’s
+where they’re wrong. I buy these watches by
+the dozen, and they only cost me one dollar
+and twenty cents each that way. They’re gold-washed,
+but they look like solid gold. I always
+have one on my chain; it’s no good havin’ it
+anywhere else. It must be on the chain you’re
+wearin’, and when the time comes for business
+you’ve got to tenderly draw it out of your pocket
+as if it was somethin’ you valued more than
+your life.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, when I started out from Moscow I
+bought a second-class ticket, and I got into the
+best unoccupied first-class compartment I saw
+on the train. After a while the conductor
+comes along to examine the tickets. I handed
+him mine. He couldn’t speak a word of English,
+but he gave me to understand by pretty good
+actin’ that I’d have to clear out into the other
+end of the train.</p>
+
+<p>“Not bein’ a bad hand at actin’ myself, I was
+right <i>in</i> it. I gently pulled my watch from my
+pocket&mdash;it was one like this I now have on me&mdash;and
+showed him clearly that I intended to
+give it to him when we reached Irkutsk if he let
+me stay where I was. I repeated the word
+Irkutsk several times, each time touchin’ his
+pocket.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, sirree, you ought to have been there
+to see his face when he caught sight of that
+watch! His eyes bulged out of his head so you
+could hang your hat on ’em, and to show what
+he felt like in his heart he took hold of my hand
+and shook it.</p>
+
+<p>“After that he was like a mother to me all
+the way. Other compartments were filled up,
+but I had mine to myself always. Every time I
+passed him I gave him a wink and tapped my
+watch-pocket, and he switched on the nicest
+smile he kept in stock.</p>
+
+<p>“Gee whiz, though, comin’ across Siberia
+the inside of that train was hotter’n the gates of
+Hades, and every day that feller would come to
+my room two or three times to see if he couldn’t
+do something to make me more comfortable.</p>
+
+<p>“At Irkutsk I handed over the watch, and
+either his joy at receivin’ it or his sorrow at
+partin’ with me was so great that he tried to
+kiss me.</p>
+
+<p>“Irkutsk is where they change trains, and I
+met an Englishman on the platform who lived
+in Port Arthur; he was goin’ back there by
+way of Dalny. He had been on a holiday to
+England, and was comin’ back on third-class
+trains, as he had spent about all his money,
+and had only just enough to skin through
+third-class. When I found he knew the country
+and could talk Russian, I invited him to come
+along with me; I told him I’d fix things up all
+right.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, by and by the conductor comes along,
+same as the other had done. There we were,
+both in a first-class compartment, one with a
+second and the other with a third-class ticket.
+I didn’t have need to do any dumb show this
+time, for my friend, who spoke the lingo, did all
+the gassin’, and told him there was a nice
+present waitin’ for him when Dalny was reached
+if we could stay where we were, and when I
+tenderly took another watch out of my pocket
+and looked at it as though it was the only thing
+I’d ever loved on earth, he was as much overcome
+with joy as number one had been.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, that watch fixed it just as I knew it
+would. We both stayed where we were, and
+when, at Dalny, I handed it over to the conductor,
+I calculated those two watches, worth
+two dollars and forty cents, had saved me about
+one hundred and twenty-five dollars.</p>
+
+<p>“That Englishman was as chock-full of
+knowledge about Manchuria as an egg is full of
+meat, and I got enough information out of him
+to write up the whole trip across Russia and
+Siberia.</p>
+
+<p>“Now you see the point I’m gettin’ at.
+There’s more of them watches in my bag, besides
+this one on my chain, and I’d like to see the
+captain of this ship richer by one of ’em, provided
+he does somethin’ to earn such a valuable
+present as he’ll consider it, until he gets to
+pryin’ into the works and askin’ experts’
+opinions about it; but by that time I’ll be a
+long way off and it ’ain’t likely as I’ll ever
+see him again. There’s one disadvantage
+about this game that’s worth remarkin’&mdash;you
+can’t play it on the same man twice.</p>
+
+<p>“As soon as I came aboard this ship and
+found out from the steward the time she gets
+to Nagasaki, I saw another watch would have
+to go, and that the captain o’ the ship would
+be the fortunate possessor. There’s a difficulty
+in the way, as he can’t speak English; and I
+can’t approach him through the steward, as
+that would give the captain away, but I’ve
+discovered there’s a Russian lady in the saloon,
+whom the captain’s already gettin’ on with like
+a house on fire.</p>
+
+<p>“She speaks English with the prettiest accent
+you ever heard, and I was talkin’ to her for half
+an hour in the harbour before you showed up.
+I’ve already told her what I’m doin’, and got her
+quite worked up about it, an’ I’ve decided she’s
+the one to work the captain for me. There she
+is now, comin’ out on deck. Excuse me; there’s
+no time to be lost; I’ll get hold of her before the
+captain sees her.”</p>
+
+<p>As they walked up and down the deck talking
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_370">370</span>
+animatedly together, I could see my new acquaintance
+was making a deeper impression
+every minute. Once a few sentences reached
+me, and I chuckled inwardly.</p>
+
+<p>“She’ll be broken-hearted if I fail to make it....
+I’ll introduce you to her if you come to
+New York. She’ll like you and you’ll like her.
+She’s tall and dark, with big black eyes, and
+she’s got a straight-front figure and a&mdash;&mdash;” I
+had to make a guess at the rest, for they had
+turned the corner by the wheel-house before the
+sentence was finished.</p>
+
+<p>I never doubted what the result of his interview
+would be. Already I felt that the arrival
+of the <i>Mongolia</i> at Nagasaki by seven o’clock on
+Thursday morning was the only thing at present
+to live for. I was completely dominated with
+enthusiasm for the success of this man’s undertaking,
+and felt certain he would as surely win
+the Russian lady’s sympathy and co-operation in
+his project as he had already secured mine.</p>
+
+<p>After half an hour he came back to me.</p>
+
+<p>“That little woman’s all right. She’s made
+o’ good enough clay to be Amur’can, an’ says
+she’ll do everythin’ she can to help me. She’s
+gone to call the captain now.”</p>
+
+<p>Soon she appeared with the captain, talking in
+the most animated manner to him and punctuating
+every sentence with most expressive gestures.</p>
+
+<p>Then they came together towards us and she
+said, “I haf ze captain told what you say off
+your great journey, and he tell me it iss impossible
+we come to Nagasaki so early unless
+he burn extra fifty tons of coal. Ze captain say
+if you pay ze coal he can do it, but if you not
+pay ze coal it iss impossible, but ze captain he
+like verry much to help you.”</p>
+
+<p>To this my travelling companion made reply,
+“Madam, will you please tell the captain that
+the cost of the extra fifty tons of coal is but a
+trifle, and I’ll do a good deal more than pay for
+that. I am so anxious to catch that train that
+if the captain will bring the ship into the harbour
+by seven o’clock I’ll make him a present
+of my watch.”</p>
+
+<p>The lady interpreted this. The captain
+shrugged his shoulders, then he looked up at
+the funnel, from which great rolling convolutions
+of thick black smoke were belching, and he let
+his eye run along the line of reek floating lazily
+in the cobalt astern for many miles&mdash;almost, it
+seemed, to where the yellow, sun-baked Manchurian
+hills were disappearing below the
+horizon&mdash;his brows knitted in thought.</p>
+
+<p>Before he had finished his cogitations the
+would-be breaker of records put his hand into
+the left pocket of his waistcoat and drew out
+his watch. He carefully removed the chamois
+skin bag, soiled sufficiently to show it had long
+protected the treasure it covered, and holding
+the watch, which looked a perfect beauty as it
+caught the sun, in the palm of his hand, he
+addressed himself straight to the captain.</p>
+
+<p>“Captain, I <i>must</i> catch that train, and if
+you’ll help me to do it, sir, my watch shall be
+yours before I leave the ship. Ain’t it a beauty?”
+and he held it out for admiration.</p>
+
+<p>All this he said in a manner that carried
+conviction with it. The lady interpreted again,
+but even that seemed unnecessary. The captain
+had capitulated, and from that moment the
+result lay in little doubt. The success or failure
+of this man’s trip had hung in the balance, and
+the issue was decided by a five-shilling watch
+glittering in the sun on the deck of a Russian
+steamer in the Yellow Sea.</p>
+
+<p>Being in the secret, I could feel only admiration
+at the record-breaker’s sang-froid and the
+clever and dramatic manner in which he played
+his part.</p>
+
+<p>The captain smiled and made a gesture of
+deprecation, but his eyes told us that he meant
+that watch should be his, and presently he went
+below to give directions to the chief engineer.
+From that moment the black smoke rolled out
+of the funnel thicker than before, hanging over
+the steamer’s wake clear to the horizon.</p>
+
+<p>The record-breaker contemplated it and the
+unrippled seas with joy.</p>
+
+<p>We went up into the fo’c’s’le, and as we
+leaned over the bow and saw the speed at which
+the sharp prow was cleaving the glassy water,
+sending thin feathers of spray high up along the
+steamer’s trim and tapering sides, his enthusiasm
+knew no bounds, and his praises of
+“God’s country” and his wife became almost
+dithyrambic.</p>
+
+<p>All next day, as we steamed past the archipelago
+of rocks and barren islands that fringes the
+coast of Korea, the sea remained calm as a
+pond, and when at half-past six o’clock on
+Thursday morning we dropped anchor off the
+quarantine station at Nagasaki all doubt seemed
+to be at an end. There was some delay, however,
+as, though the doctors quickly came on
+board, made their examinations, and gave us a
+clean bill of health, it takes time to get under
+way again, enter the harbour, and take up
+a berth amongst the shipping this bustling port
+always contains. We anchored at seven-twenty.
+The record-breaker knew nothing about the
+place, and it is a long way to the station. I
+knew it well, however, and, as I felt as keen on
+his catching that train as he did himself, I
+chartered a <i>sampan</i> and had all our luggage
+lowered into it, whilst he went up on to the
+bridge to express his thanks and present the
+watch to the captain. I saw him take it from
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_371">371</span>
+his pocket and make a little speech as he handed
+it over, and I saw the captain bow his thanks.
+Then he shook hands, and in another moment
+he was beside me and we were being rapidly
+pulled to the landing-place, or <i>hatoba</i>.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i058.jpg">
+<img src="images/i058.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">“’AIN’T IT A BEAUTY?’ AND HE HELD IT OUT FOR ADMIRATION.”</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>There was not a moment to lose. It was
+past seven-thirty, and a good twenty minutes to
+the station. Hastily bidding the <i>sampan</i> to
+wait with my luggage, I engaged rickshaws and
+we were off at full speed. We reached the
+station at seven-fifty-five. Having Japanese
+money on me I paid the rickshaws, whilst he
+bought his ticket with money he had got
+exchanged by the steamer’s purser.</p>
+
+<p>He hastily shook hands, thanked me, and got
+into the train just one moment before it left.</p>
+
+<p>The watch had <i>really</i> done it, but by actually
+less than a minute, and if I had not been there
+to help him he would have failed after all. He
+promised to write me from Yokohama, but this
+he never did. The last I saw of him he was
+waving his hat out of the window to me till the
+train was out of sight.</p>
+
+<p>The last I heard of him was a few weeks
+later, when I read in an American Press telegram
+that he had won his spurs and had beaten
+the previous best round the world by exactly
+twelve days.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_372">372</span></p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<div class="figcenter">
+<img id="A_White_Woman_in" src="images/i059a.jpg"
+alt="" />
+<h2><span class="hidden">A White Woman in Cannibal-Land.<br /></span>
+
+<span class="smcap medium">By Annie Ker.</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+<blockquote>
+
+<p>Some incidents of a lady’s life in the wilds of New Guinea. Miss Ker went out to Papua&mdash;as the
+country is now called&mdash;attached to a mission, and describes the many strange, amusing, and
+exciting experiences she encountered during her seven years’ sojourn among the natives, who,
+not so very long ago, were always fighting and much addicted to cannibalism&mdash;a practice which
+still prevails among the wild tribes of the unexplored interior.</p></blockquote>
+
+<h3>III.</h3>
+
+<div>
+<img class="drop-cap" src="images/t.jpg" alt="T" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">Towards</span> the end of my stay in
+Papua my special work was translation,
+chiefly of the Scriptures, and
+there was a big pile of manuscript
+awaiting revision. This was generally
+done by one of the mission clergy and myself,
+assisted by intelligent natives who possessed a
+quick ear for mistakes. The little boy seen in
+the first photograph was known as “the Pundit,”
+because, although only fourteen years old, he
+gave us great assistance in the difficult work of
+translation. He had a
+wonderful memory, and
+was very discriminating
+in his choice of words.
+He would sometimes
+volunteer opinions as to
+the style of the sacred
+writers, and considered
+the Prophet Jeremiah,
+on the whole, “easier”
+than Isaiah&mdash;in which I
+agree with him, so far
+as concerns rendering
+the books into a native
+dialect. Perhaps it was
+for this reason that our
+youthful “Pundit,” when
+he was baptised and
+formally discarded his
+heathen name of Bonagadona,
+chose that of
+“Jeremiah,” by which
+imposing cognomen he
+is now known.</p>
+
+<p>Before long the revision work came to a
+standstill, however, for my fellow-reviser had
+gone far north to a pioneer station called
+Ambasi. It was finally decided that, accompanied
+by our mission nurse, I should take the
+MSS. to Ambasi and finish the revision there.
+So we set out on our long journey up the coast
+in the little fourteen-foot schooner. I am not
+a good sailor, and I found the journey very
+uncomfortable; I was only able to admire
+Nature when we anchored.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i059b.jpg">
+<img src="images/i059b.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">“THE PUNDIT”&mdash;THIS LITTLE LAD, THOUGH ONLY FOURTEEN
+YEARS OLD, RENDERED THE AUTHORESS GREAT ASSISTANCE
+IN THE DIFFICULT WORK OF TRANSLATING THE SCRIPTURES.<br />
+<i>From a Photograph.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>We spent a very interesting time in Collingwood
+Bay, where only two white women had
+ever been seen, and that within the year. The
+women here wore strips of tappa cloth from
+waist to knee, instead of
+the grass skirts of the
+more eastern tribes, and
+the houses were of a
+finer and larger type.</p>
+
+<p>The villagers, after
+they had got over their
+surprise at seeing us,
+gave us almost too hearty
+a welcome. We were
+implored to pull down
+our hair, and great was
+the astonishment expressed
+at the sight when
+we did so. They also
+failed entirely to understand
+our hairpins, hats,
+and, above all, our long
+noses and small waists!
+The Papuans’ methods
+of hairdressing, however,
+would certainly cause
+almost equal astonishment
+in civilization.
+Look, for instance, at the following photograph,
+which depicts the coiffure of a man
+belonging to the dreaded Doriri tribe, a people
+living inland from Uiaku, whose warlike instincts
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_373">373</span>
+have not yet been subdued.
+It will be noticed
+that the hair is allowed
+to grow long, divided
+into plaits, and elaborately
+braided until it
+looks like a collection of
+rope-ends.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i060a.jpg">
+<img src="images/i060a.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">A NATIVE OF THE DREADED DORIRI TRIBE&mdash;THE HAIR IS
+DIVIDED INTO PLAITS AND BRAIDED, UNTIL IT LOOKS LIKE A
+COLLECTION OF ROPE-ENDS.<br />
+<i>From a Photograph.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>At Wanigera, a few
+miles away, where a
+mission station had been
+in existence longer than
+at Uiaku, we met with a
+quieter reception, though
+one old woman, after a
+long look at me, asked a
+child if I were <i>really</i>
+a woman. I wondered
+what strange creature
+she imagined I was, for
+surely, in a white muslin
+frock, she could hardly
+have taken me for a
+man!</p>
+
+<p>During our stay at
+Wanigera a great hunt
+took place, and some
+of the warriors called on
+us before setting out.
+Their ornaments were
+very striking, and the colours almost dazzling.
+Altogether they looked a very fine set of men,
+and would, no doubt, prove enemies much to
+be dreaded in the day of battle. On this
+occasion, however, they only waged war with the
+brute creation, and they
+told us at the close of
+the day that the bag was
+a very good one.</p>
+
+<p>The interior of the
+great church on Sunday
+was a fine sight, being
+filled with from two to
+three hundred natives,
+all decked out in feathers,
+shell ornaments, gay
+tappa cloth, and vivid
+flowers. Not less striking
+was the almost military
+precision with which
+each row of worshippers
+left the building in turn
+at the close of the
+service. If these natives
+went in for such amenities
+of civilization as
+church parades, the
+spectacle would be a
+striking one indeed.</p>
+
+<p>In a neighbouring
+village to Wanigera there
+is a remarkable tree
+house, prepared by the
+tribesmen as a place of
+refuge from marauding
+enemies. From the heights of this arboreal
+retreat they were able to hurl down stones upon
+the attacking party.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i060b.jpg">
+<img src="images/i060b.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">PAPUAN WOMEN DECORATED FOR A DEATH-DANCE.<br />
+[<i>From a Photograph.</i>]</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>A fine specimen of Papuan womanhood may
+be seen in the middle figure of the next photograph
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_374">374</span>
+reproduced. These women are natives of
+Nonof, a village not far from Wanigera. They
+were profusely ornamented in order that they
+might take part in a dance held after the death
+of a chief. It is almost an unheard-of occurrence
+for women to don such decorations, which are
+regarded as the exclusive property of the men,
+and it looks as though the ladies were beginning
+to agitate for equal privileges in the way of
+finery with their lords and masters. A native,
+on being shown my collection of curios, which
+included some ornaments, remarked that I was
+<i>me oroto</i>, or “like a man,” because of my many
+possessions.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i061a.jpg">
+<img src="images/i061a.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">PREPARING LIME FOR USE IN BETEL-CHEWING.<br />
+[<i>From a Photograph.</i>]</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>The natives of Papua are very much addicted
+to betel-chewing. Areca palms are plentiful up
+the coast, but pepper-leaf and lime are required
+as well. The lime&mdash;which in some districts is
+prepared from coal&mdash;is obtained in Collingwood
+Bay by burning shells. The above photograph
+well illustrates the primitive process in use for
+slaking the lime after the burning of the shells.
+The lime is then stored, and ladled out from a
+calabash when required.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i061b.jpg">
+<img src="images/i061b.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">A HUT IN THE FOREST&mdash;OBSERVE THE REMARKABLE ROOF.<br />
+[<i>From a Photograph.</i>]</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Our stay at Wanigera having come to an end,
+we embarked once more on the little schooner
+and set off again. We anchored each night, for
+the native captain was not very certain of his
+bearings, and reefs were plentiful. On the third
+day after leaving Wanigera, however, he was
+either influenced by the crew or had a sudden
+impulse of recklessness, for after the sun had
+set he tried, in the uncertain light, to bring the
+boat into harbour on a particularly reef-bound
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_375">375</span>
+part of the coast. There was a strong wind
+blowing, and the waves were slapping angrily
+against the sides of the vessel, when suddenly,
+without a moment’s warning, there was a grating
+shock, and we realized that we had struck a reef.
+It was almost dark by now, and the lights of the
+settlement could be seen two or three miles
+away.</p>
+
+<p>The captain let go the anchor at once, but the
+boat began to roll so violently that we felt doubtful
+as to whether the cable would stand the strain.
+Meanwhile the boys scrambled into the dinghy
+and rowed around to investigate our position.
+Strange though it may seem, no harm appeared
+to have been done to the boat, but we were so
+surrounded by reefs that we did not dare to
+move from where we were anchored. So there
+we pitched and rolled about all night, though
+the strength of the wind abated later on.
+What with one thing and another, I felt like a
+very frightened tennis-ball, and I was extremely
+thankful when, at sunrise, we were able to make
+for the shore, where we spent the day and night
+at the house of a friendly magistrate.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i062.jpg">
+<img src="images/i062.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">A FISHERMAN’S HOUSE AND CANOE.<br />
+[<i>From a Photograph.</i>]</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>We were now only thirty or forty miles from
+our destination, and the next afternoon arrived
+at Ambasi. No white women had ever been
+there before, and for many days we were visited
+by parties of natives, all eager to see the strange
+white ladies. Women carrying their babies
+astride on their shoulders, old men leading little
+boys, and married couples, with or without their
+families, would pay us long visits, wanting to
+know what a sewing-machine was, to look at our
+bedrooms, and, above all, to taste our food.
+The nurse had her hands full soon after she
+arrived, for the people had great faith in her
+remedies, and patients presented themselves in
+shoals for treatment. Her pet patients appeared
+to be old men, who became frightfully jealous of
+one another if she appeared to devote more
+attention to one than another. They would
+glare fiercely at the patient who was being
+rubbed or otherwise treated, and were only
+partly mollified when their own turn came.</p>
+
+<p>During our stay at Ambasi we dispensed with
+such luxuries as mirrors and sheets, and rolled
+ourselves in blankets, to sleep contentedly in
+hammocks slung on the veranda. We could
+not, however, do without mosquito nets, for
+without them rest would have been quite
+impossible. At night we were surrounded by
+the pale sparks of fireflies, and far below, on the
+beach, the natives’ flaring torches would flicker
+for hours as they fished, standing patiently in
+the sea. In the early morning the sweet notes
+of a bird would wake us from some lofty
+tree at the edge of the thick forest close by,
+behind which rose in majesty the great Owen
+Stanley range, standing out distinctly in the
+clear morning air. The highest peak, Mount
+Albert Edward, over thirteen thousand feet
+high, had not long before been ascended for
+the first time by a magistrate and one of the
+mission staff.</p>
+
+<p>We could not always keep dry under our
+roof, which allowed the rain to penetrate it in
+many places. One memorable night I piled
+nearly all my belongings in a heap covered by a
+mat, and at last sought shelter from the prevailing
+showers under the table, which was, I am
+glad to say, rainproof. But it would not have
+done to be without rain, for it was our only
+water supply, the spring on the beach being too
+brackish to drink.</p>
+
+<p>The Ope, a small river, was only three miles
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_376">376</span>
+distant, within easy reach of the station by boat
+or beach. I visited it one Sunday morning,
+taking with me a village boy who knew a little
+broken English. It was a glorious walk on the
+hard yellow sand, for the tide was out, but the
+return journey was most fatiguing, for the waves
+had covered the firm portion, and at each step I
+sank ankle-deep in the yielding sand.</p>
+
+<p>When we reached the Ope no canoes were to
+be seen, except on the farther bank. We called
+and beckoned, and after a time a small boy
+brought one over to us, on which we embarked.
+There were no paddles, a very slender stick
+being our only means of propelling it, and we
+naturally made poor progress. Our little ferry-man,
+however, was not disconcerted. Kneeling
+down and putting his right leg overboard he
+obligingly paddled with that, and most successfully.</p>
+
+<p>It was at the place to which I was going that
+the launch had once been wrecked, and where,
+some years before, the Bishop of New Guinea
+and one of his laymen had spent the night in
+peril of their lives, after escaping from drowning
+and from a shark. It was with some anxiety,
+therefore, that I looked forward to our arrival.</p>
+
+<p>I am bound to say, however, that no one
+could now accuse the villagers of evil designs
+on us, for I was presented with a young coconut
+to drink, and saw nothing amiss in the
+behaviour of the natives, unless a request to
+take down my hair can be regarded as such.</p>
+
+<p>A chief had died the week before, and the
+dead man seemed to have been related to the
+majority of the people, for many were daubed
+with light yellow clay, which is their form of
+mourning. The widow herself was seated on
+her husband’s grave, which was situated <i>inside</i>
+the house. There, according to tribal etiquette,
+she must remain until she had finished making
+her mourning jacket of netted string trimmed
+with “Job’s tears.” I was glad the poor thing
+had something to occupy her mind, for the
+horror of the situation was increased by the
+presence of two old crones who, one on each
+side of her, wailed incessantly.</p>
+
+<p>Burial in the house in more settled parts of
+Papua has been forbidden by the Government,
+and where the missions are located graveyards
+have been set aside and fenced in.</p>
+
+<p>When my work at Ambasi was over the little
+schooner arrived once more to take us back. It
+was now the calm season, and our progress was
+decidedly slow. The little cabin below, where
+the nurse and I slept, was stuffy in the extreme,
+and it was delightful to get on deck in the early
+morning, though I was seldom able to do more
+than lie there with a bit of sail or a blanket
+stretched above to keep off the rays of the sun.
+Then it would become unbearably hot, and I
+would retreat to the airless cabin once more
+until the cool of the evening approached. All
+day long the sails flapped aimlessly and the
+blocks thudded loudly on the deck, for the
+breeze was usually too light to help us. Towards
+evening a wind sprang up, but too late to enable
+us to make for an anchorage among the reefs in
+the treacherous half-light. Matters improved as
+we got farther down the coast, however, and
+though on the last day we saw a waterspout in
+the distance we met with no mishaps, and
+finally reached our journey’s end in safety.</p>
+
+<p>Though there are marked differences in the
+Papuans themselves, as well as in their dwellings
+and languages, the time will come, no doubt,
+when, under the influence of the white man,
+they will abandon their primitive Stone Age
+ways for twentieth-century ones. Then,
+probably, much of their charm will vanish.
+They may reap many benefits, but, as with so
+many other savage races, it is more than likely
+that the change will not be altogether to their
+advantage. At any rate, I am glad that I have
+lived with them and known them at home,
+while they are still unspoiled children of
+Nature.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<img src="images/i063.jpg"
+alt="" />
+</div>
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_377">377</span></p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<div class="figcenter">
+<img id="My_Experiences" src="images/i064a.jpg"
+alt="" />
+<h2><span class="hidden">My Experiences in Algeria.<br /></span>
+
+<span class="smcap medium">By the Baroness de Boerio.</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+<blockquote>
+
+<p>The Baroness’s husband, an officer in the French army, was ordered to Algeria, and took his wife
+and children with him. There, located at a tiny post far from civilization, in the midst of fierce and
+unruly tribes, the authoress met with some very strange adventures, which she here sets forth in a
+chatty and amusing fashion.</p></blockquote>
+
+<h3>II.</h3>
+
+<div>
+<img class="drop-cap" src="images/s.jpg" alt="S" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">Some</span> time after my arrival at Teniet-el-Haad
+my husband and I, together
+with our first lieutenant and his wife,
+were invited to a “diffa” given in
+our honour by a Caid named Si
+Benrajah.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i064b.jpg">
+<img src="images/i064b.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">THE FRINGE OF THE DESERT.<br />
+<i>From a Photograph.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>He most politely sent his wagonette to fetch
+us and was at the door of his house to receive
+us. He was a tall, good-looking man, and his
+costume was exquisite. His <i>serronal</i>, or wide
+trousers, were of pale-grey satin cloth, the large
+pockets on each side richly embroidered in silk
+braid of the same shade. Silver lace covered
+his short bolero, which opened over a shirt
+which was a mass of green and red silk, gold
+and silver embroidery. Over that again he
+wore a lovely white silk “haik,” which, covering
+his head-dress and kept in place by the “camel
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_378">378</span>
+cords,” fell round his shoulders, and was then
+caught up in front from the knee to the gold
+waistbelt by a cerise coloured silk handkerchief.
+Over his shoulders hung his burnous, the outer
+one of fine grey cloth to match the costume,
+handsomely embroidered at the corners and
+round the hood, the under one of fine white
+flannel.</p>
+
+<p>He led us majestically
+into his “drawing-room”&mdash;which,
+alas! bore unmistakable
+traces of the
+Caid’s various journeys
+to Paris. There was
+nothing Arab but the
+lovely carpets and the
+smell.</p>
+
+<p>A rickety Louis XV.
+<i>canap&eacute;</i>, with chairs to
+match, stood stiffly
+against the walls; their
+coverings of chintz
+badly wanted washing.
+An oval table, a walnutwood
+wardrobe, a
+washing-stand without
+the accessories, and
+two big mirrors, whose
+frames had once been
+gilded, completed the
+furniture. We here
+partook of refreshments
+in the unromantic
+shape of absinthe
+and lemonade, accompanied
+by Huntley and
+Palmer’s biscuits and
+wafers. I was much
+disappointed, for I had
+hoped to see something
+more Arab and
+to eat and drink according
+to the customs
+of the land. I supposed
+this was “progress”
+in Benrajah’s
+idea; at any rate, he
+looked most satisfied
+with himself and his
+surroundings. He introduced
+another Caid to us&mdash;the Caid of
+Biskra, I think, who was passing through&mdash;a
+fine, handsome man, whose photograph is here
+reproduced.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i065.jpg">
+<img src="images/i065.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">THE CAID OF BISKRA.<br />
+[<i>From a Photograph.</i>]</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>We breakfasted in a large tent, as Benrajah
+said it was still too warm in the house. Remembering
+the close, “camelly” sort of smell, I quite
+agreed with him.</p>
+
+<p>As we entered the tent Mme. G&mdash;&mdash;, the
+lieutenant’s wife, whispered to me, “Now, mind
+you don’t refuse a single dish the Caid offers
+you. If you do you will mortally offend him,
+especially as it is the first time you break bread
+under his roof, and the ‘diffa’ is in your honour.”</p>
+
+<p>“All right,” I answered, cheerily.</p>
+
+<p>“Bon! bon! bon!”
+she cried. “Don’t
+forget, you <i>must</i> eat
+everything he offers
+you.” She skipped off
+roaring with laughter,
+which, at the time, I
+thought very silly of
+her.</p>
+
+<p>I was again very disappointed
+by the civilized,
+European way in
+which we ate. Instead
+of squatting
+cross-legged on the
+ground, eating with
+brotherly love out of
+the same dish with a
+wooden spoon or our
+fingers, we sat round a
+well-laid table, with
+knives and forks, and
+dinner-napkins embroidered
+with the
+Caid’s initials. Everyone
+and everything is
+getting so horribly civilized
+nowadays, I reflected,
+sadly.</p>
+
+<p>The repast began
+with a red-hot liquid
+in which vermicelli
+floated. It burnt my
+unaccustomed mouth
+and I did not fall in
+love with it, but as I
+had never tasted anything
+like it before I
+did not even want to
+refuse when the Caid
+offered me a second
+helping. After the
+soup came some boiled
+chicken, on which the
+red liquid had been poured. He helped me
+largely&mdash;twice. The third course was mutton,
+with prunes; the fourth mutton, with red
+liquid; the fifth a French <i>rago&ucirc;t</i>, with an Arab
+taste; the sixth was chicken without the red
+liquid; the seventh an Irish stew gone wrong;
+the eighth&mdash;well, perhaps my readers are
+beginning to feel as tired as I did after having
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_379">379</span>
+partaken twice of all these dishes. Indeed, I
+was beginning to feel very serious, and longed
+ardently for the end of this Gargantuan repast.</p>
+
+<p>After about the twelfth course an Arab in
+waiting cleared a space on the table before the
+Caid. My hopes were raised to the heights,
+but, alas! only to fall to the lowest depths in a
+very short space of time. Suddenly something
+knocked my hat on one side, and everyone
+yelled at me. Dazed, I looked round and
+rubbed my nose into a sheep’s leg. Starting
+back, I met the convulsed and, as I imagined,
+reproachful eye of an enormous sheep lying in
+a contorted attitude on a big brass platter.
+Si Benrajah
+turned to me with
+a gracious smile.
+“I am much
+honoured, madam,”
+he said, in
+perfect French,
+“in being the
+first to offer you
+a ‘meshui’ on
+your arrival in
+Algeria.”</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i066.jpg">
+<img src="images/i066.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">A TYPICAL ARAB HUT.<br />
+[<i>From a Photograph.</i>]</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>A “meshui,” I
+learnt, is a royal
+dish, and is only
+offered to those
+the Arabs delight
+(or are compelled)
+to honour.
+It is simply a
+whole sheep
+roasted over
+wood embers,
+and served uncut
+on a brass or
+silver platter. It
+should not be cut
+with a knife, but
+torn off with the
+fingers and eaten.
+If you wish to be
+particularly polite to a friend who is present,
+you wrench off a piece of flesh and present it
+with your greasy fingers, and he receives it
+much flattered, returning the compliment with
+<i>his</i> greasy fingers. This style of eating was
+certainly not over-civilized, so I ought to have
+been better pleased than I was. As a matter
+of fact I felt very bad, and hoped against hope
+that the Caid would forget me.</p>
+
+<p>“You are not yet accustomed to our habits,”
+he said, kindly. “Take a knife and fork and
+cut off the meat.”</p>
+
+<p>So I cut off a few small bits in a dilatory way,
+secretly wondering if I could not surreptitiously
+throw them to some lean, hungry dogs who were
+peering into the tent door.</p>
+
+<p>“What silly little bits!” cried Benrajah,
+laughingly. Then, after well licking his brown,
+henna-stained fingers, he tore off a huge piece
+and offered it to me! A cold perspiration broke
+out on my forehead, and I almost longed for
+death.</p>
+
+<p>“Eat! eat!” he cried, gaily; and, choking
+down my despair, I ate.</p>
+
+<p>How could I dare to do otherwise after
+Mme. G&mdash;&mdash;’s warning? Are not the laws
+of hospitality sacred and to be observed
+throughout the world? But it was terrible
+tribute to pay to
+foreign customs,
+and I felt a lesser
+desire for originality.</p>
+
+<p>“It is good?”
+inquired the Caid.</p>
+
+<p>“Delicious!
+delicious!” I
+answered, with a
+ghastly green
+smile.</p>
+
+<p>“Ah! Here
+is a <i>comme il faut
+Roumia</i>!” he
+cried, enchanted&mdash;and
+promptly
+tore me off a
+beautiful brown
+piece of meat,
+weighing, I should
+think, about three
+pounds! My cup
+of anguish was
+full, and I prayed&mdash;yes,
+actually
+prayed&mdash;to be
+delivered from
+that three pounds
+of meat.</p>
+
+<p>And I was.</p>
+
+<p>Crash! The table-cloth was half dragged off,
+and, amid a rain of knives and forks, plates and
+glasses, my little girl rolled on to the ground.
+I did not lose my presence of mind, but, seizing
+my pounds of meat, all unseen in the commotion
+I threw them to the lean dogs, who made very
+short work of them. Then my motherly feelings
+came to the fore, and I went to the rescue of my
+child. It was soon apparent what had happened&mdash;the
+poor mite had been given too much
+wine by the thoughtless Mme. G&mdash;&mdash;, and
+was very seedy for some days afterwards.</p>
+
+<p>It would be reasonable to suppose that the
+“meshui” was the last of the courses, but it
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_380">380</span>
+disappeared only to give place to the Arab
+national dish, the “couscous.” At sight of the
+snowy pile of rolled semolina, surmounted by
+more mutton, a feeling of revolt took possession
+of me. I felt I could dare Lucifer himself;
+and so I refused the couscous, although in a
+cowardly way, by pretending that fresh air was
+necessary for my poor little Ren&eacute;e. Perhaps it
+was, but if it had not been I should have said
+the same.</p>
+
+<p>I do not think I ever quite forgave Mme.
+G&mdash;&mdash; her two practical jokes, for practical
+jokes they were. When I described my sufferings
+at having to eat all the Caid gave me, she
+laughed herself ill and said, “What a ‘blue’ you
+are!” Which is the French military way of
+calling you a greenhorn.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i067.jpg">
+<img src="images/i067.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">“I LOOKED ROUND JUST IN TIME TO SEE AN ARAB LOWERING HIS GUN.”</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>One of my husband’s great amusements in
+this out-of-the-way garrison was to construct a
+hiding-place, in front of which he fixed the
+carcass of some dead animal, and there, gun in
+hand, to await the wild beasts such as hyenas,
+jackals, lynxes, and golden foxes, who scented
+from afar the goodly supper awaiting them.
+On these occasions they generally found too
+much pepper, and often suffered from a mortal
+indigestion. I sometimes accompanied my
+husband on such expeditions, and greatly
+enjoyed crouching silently in some hidden
+corner, listening to the wailing of an approaching
+hyena, or the querulous squabbling and
+howling of the shrieking jackals. And then,
+when the dry sticks cracked and the dead leaves
+rustled quite close to me under their stealthy
+pads, my heart would leap into my mouth for
+fear they should mistake <i>me</i> for their supper.
+One night whilst thus listening to some
+approaching creature my husband, crouching
+about twenty yards from me, suddenly rose
+up and called out in Arabic, “Who goes
+there?” I looked round just in time to see an
+Arab huntsman lowering his gun, which was
+pointed full at <i>me</i>. He thought I was a hyena!</p>
+
+<p>During the winter, when the snow lay thick
+on the ground, I preferred staying at home to
+keep up a huge fire and fabricate hot drinks in
+readiness for the frozen huntsman’s return; it
+seemed to me more a wife’s duty!</p>
+
+<p>Another short incident of my life in Teniet-el-Haad
+may not be uninteresting. My husband
+had gone to the manœuvres with his Spahis, and
+our <i>bordj</i> was only guarded by about thirty
+“Tirailleurs Algerians.” Then, one day, a
+terrific storm burst over the land. The air
+was so thick with fine sand that I could not
+distinguish the trees before my windows, and the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_381">381</span>
+sun hung in the sky like a lurid orange ball,
+seemingly about to drop. The heat was stifling;
+one gasped for breath, and, although every door
+and window was hermetically closed, the rooms
+were full of sand.</p>
+
+<p>Presently a terrible clamour arose from the
+village&mdash;shouts, cries, screams, gun-shots. Then
+from the <i>bordj</i> courtyard I heard sharp orders
+given, the clanking of weapons, and finally the
+sound of a body of infantry running. The wind
+howled and shrieked, the sand-storm grew
+denser and denser, and still the clamour continued
+in the village. I sat in the drawing-room
+with my little ones around me, wondering if it
+were a serious revolt, and what would happen to
+us if it were. For the district of Teniet-el-Haad
+was a large one, containing thirty thousand
+Arabs, and we were far from any important
+garrison, while our protectors, all Arab, consisted
+of thirty “tirailleurs,” and ten Spahis
+belonging to the “Commune Mixte.” Pensively
+I placed my revolver close to my hand,
+and waited anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>After a few hours the sirocco cleared somewhat,
+the noise ceased, and the tirailleurs
+returned. The whole affair, they told me, had
+been got up by the mountain Arabs against the
+Jews, who had been “doing” them. So the
+Arabs had taken the law into their own hands
+and administered justice by repaying themselves
+a hundred-fold and making off with their booty
+up the mountains, well hidden by the sand-storm.
+In the scuffle a boy and two men were
+killed, all Jews&mdash;so it did not matter, so the
+folks said.</p>
+
+<p>My husband was second captain at Teniet-el-Haad,
+having given up his rank as first captain
+in the Hussars in order to facilitate his return to
+a regiment. He was therefore the oldest in
+grade in the 1st Spahis, and the earliest vacancy
+as first captain fell to him. We had been at
+Teniet about ten months when he received
+orders to take command of the Laghouat
+squadron. It was the beginning of February;
+snow lay thick and deep on the ground up in
+this high altitude, and the great question arose
+how we were to get to Laghouat. Should we
+take the short cut by carriage across the mountains
+to Boghar, where the regimental brake
+would meet us and take us on, or go down to
+Affreville by the rickety diligence, train to
+Medeah, and continue by carriage?</p>
+
+<p>Going by train was a difficulty and an extra
+expense on account of our dogs. We had four&mdash;three
+fox-terriers and a shooting dog. I do
+not know what he called himself, but he had a
+double-barrelled nose and an over-frank and
+exuberant nature. He and Charleston, the old
+fox, could not bear each other. It was quite
+impossible to put them together in the dog-box,
+and to pack them separately would have cost as
+much as four times as many children. So, in
+consideration of their feelings and our purse, we
+decided&mdash;oh, irony!&mdash;to take the short cut if
+the snow and slush would allow of a carriage
+travelling along the narrow mountain tracks.</p>
+
+<p>We consulted the different French and native
+authorities, and finally decided, if the snow and
+slush would allow, to take the short cut over
+the mountains. We started off one fine
+morning at five, in a small brake lent by a Caid,
+who also promised to send us four strong mules
+to an inn some twenty miles off. The first
+twenty miles were soon done, and at half-past
+seven we were enjoying some good hot coffee,
+whilst our Spahi was unharnessing his team and
+making inquiries as to the whereabouts of the
+new relay and coachman. Ten minutes after
+he appeared, with a very concerned face. “Mon
+capitaine, Sidi Belgacun has sent two mules no
+bigger than donkeys, and the boy who drives
+them is a mere baby!”</p>
+
+<p>This sounded cheerful, and with one accord
+we went out to inspect. The Spahi’s account was
+unfortunately but slightly exaggerated, and we
+stood staring at our tiny steeds with dismay. We
+had still fifty kilometres before us, and the roads
+for at least twenty-five were nothing but cross-country
+paths. Should we turn back, or try to
+find other horses and go on? I voted emphatically
+for going on. Aided by the Spahi,
+my husband finally unearthed a man and two
+horses, and at eight o’clock we set off once
+more.</p>
+
+<p>Everything again went well for ten kilometres;
+then our misfortunes really began. When going
+up a hill the ground grew soft and the wheels
+of the brake sank in.</p>
+
+<p>“The snow is melting farther on,” remarked
+the coachman, laconically; “the underground
+springs are overflowing.”</p>
+
+<p>On we went laboriously, our Jehu yelling at
+the struggling horses, whilst the carriage wobbled
+to and fro in a most alarming fashion. “Don’t
+you think it would do us good to walk a bit?”
+I suggested. “It would make things easier for
+the horses.”</p>
+
+<p>“It would be safer,” said my husband, who
+was looking anxious.</p>
+
+<p>So out we got&mdash;and two minutes later the
+whole concern toppled over, our boxes, portmanteaux,
+and packets flying all over the place.
+The horses were plunging and kicking; the
+coachman, an Italian, and the Arab boy
+were yelling and swearing in their respective
+languages, whilst my husband <i>exclaimed</i> in
+French (he doesn’t swear, but I am sure he
+would have liked to on this occasion). The
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_382">382</span>
+scene was so unutterably comic that I could not
+help myself; I laughed until the tears rolled
+down my cheeks. I draw a curtain over the
+face my better half turned on me&mdash;scowling was
+not in it&mdash;and although I assured him I was
+really quite as upset as the carriage he has not
+recovered from my frivolity to this day.</p>
+
+<p>The men picked up the carriage and the
+baggage and put all in order and we thought we
+should get on again, but, alas! the wheels refused
+to move an inch; the more we tried the deeper
+they sank. After two hours of vain endeavour,
+Peppino, the coachman, suggested sending Ali
+to have a look round the country to see if he
+could find a village and get men with spades
+to come and dig us out. The boy set off,
+returning later with five stalwart men, who
+comparatively soon dug us out and accompanied
+us for a few kilometres on our way,
+pushing and yelling when necessary. Then
+they left us, saying the road was good right up
+to Boghar. It was now past two o’clock, and
+our lunch loomed very dimly in the far distance,
+having been ordered for twelve o’clock at Boghar.</p>
+
+<p>About three o’clock we saw snow on the side
+of the road, which again grew slushy and soft.
+My husband and Peppino were obliged to run
+behind, pushing at the wheels at the difficult
+places, whilst the Arab boy cheered on his mules
+and Peppino’s horses.</p>
+
+<p>The snow got deeper and deeper. Presently
+we passed a carriage abandoned on the side of
+the road, farther on a dead horse, and again a
+form, which looked terribly human, covered by
+a white pall.</p>
+
+<p>After a while we came to a wider part. On
+the right was a sloping mountain-side half
+covered with snow, half with golden narcissus,
+and showing a dry watercourse, dotted about with
+huge stones. On the left was a smooth field
+of snow, across which wheel marks could be
+distinguished. “We must cross here,” said
+Peppino, “as someone has before us; the snow
+is doubtless hard, and by whipping up the horses
+I will get you over. The road is impossible.”</p>
+
+<p>My husband was not of the same opinion.
+He considered the watercourse a better road
+than a snow-field, and the presence of stones
+made him surmise that the bottom was hard.</p>
+
+<p>The matter was hotly discussed, but finally
+my husband gave in, seeing that Peppino knew
+the road and he did not.</p>
+
+<p>Away we galloped&mdash;bump, bump, bump.
+Then, without warning, there came a tremendous
+crack, and, lo and behold! there we were, sitting
+in our carriage, whilst the horses and Peppino
+continued with the wheels! It was, of course,
+a terrible dilemma, but again I had to laugh; it
+was really too funny.</p>
+
+<p>My husband and Peppino carried me and the
+children and perched each of us on a stone,
+where I stood on one leg and cawed like a crow.
+“One should always take misfortunes gaily,”
+I said. That was the last straw; my better half
+had to laugh, but the smile was rather sickly.
+Then we held a council of war.</p>
+
+<p>Peppino, good man, saved the situation.
+“I will go back with the horses and fetch the
+carriage we saw abandoned at the side of the
+road,” he said. “I know the owner, and will
+take the responsibility for borrowing it on my
+own shoulders.”</p>
+
+<p>So off he went, whilst we cawed to one
+another from stone to stone and ate snow,
+there being nothing else to do. Before long
+Peppino returned triumphantly with the borrowed
+carriage, the luggage was transferred, and we
+started off again, leaving our first equipage
+standing disconsolately in the snow.</p>
+
+<p>All went well until eight o’clock, although my
+husband and Peppino had constantly to push at
+the wheels. They both looked ten years older
+than at the start, so lined and weary were their
+faces. At about eight we came to a narrow
+track, a real road winding round the mountain
+above a fathomless precipice. On each side
+the snow lay in drifts of five and six feet deep,
+and the centre track showed no sign of previous
+passage.</p>
+
+<p>We had not gone fifty yards along this road
+when the horses stopped and the wheels disappeared
+in a drift. Yelling, pushing, and pulling
+had no effect whatever. The horses were then
+harnessed to the splash-board, but their strenuous
+efforts only resulted in tearing it from the body
+of the carriage.</p>
+
+<p>All this time I was sitting in the snow trying
+to keep the little one warm, and hopefully
+encouraging the two elder ones, Charlie and
+Ren&eacute;e. From the mountain top came the discordant
+howling and barking of jackals; from
+the blackness below arose the sad wailing of a
+hyena. I very nearly became tearful.</p>
+
+<p>Peppino again offered his services, and proposed
+riding off to fetch help at a sheikh’s some
+ten miles away.</p>
+
+<p>“Get into the carriage, wrap yourselves up
+warmly with everything available, and wait,” he
+said. “In five or six hours I will bring assistance.”</p>
+
+<p>There was nothing else to be done, so we
+made the best of a bad job, packed ourselves
+up, and tried to sleep. The children, of course,
+succeeded at once, as did my husband, worn
+out with the efforts of the day, but I could not.
+My hunger was great, and I do not think I have
+ever before or since imagined such cold. Talk
+of African heat; African <i>cold</i> has the first place
+in my memory.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_383">383</span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i070.jpg">
+<img src="images/i070.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">“I KICKED VIGOROUSLY, SHOUTING ‘HENRI!’ AND ‘PEPPINO!’”</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>The night was pitch-dark, and it was far from
+amusing to sit there listening to the animals
+prowling round. A hyena or so came very near
+to our mules, who shivered and snorted for a
+long time after.</p>
+
+<p>Numbed with cold, I suppose I at last fell
+asleep. Suddenly I was awakened by a great
+commotion. Then came yelling, the sound of
+horses plunging, and I heard the children
+shrieking “Mother!” I rose precipitately, a
+light flashed in my face, baby was seized from
+me, and I myself was borne off like an infant
+by a man who appeared to be a giant. He
+hurried away up the mountain-side without a
+word, which did not at all seem to me the right
+behaviour of rescuers. Why thus seize us and
+bear us off into the mountains?</p>
+
+<p>We must have been attacked by brigands, and
+my husband knifed as he slept! I kicked
+vigorously, shouting “Henri!” and “Peppino!”
+but received no answer, and my heart sank. Then
+I called “Charlie!” “Ren&eacute;e!” and to my great
+joy their voices answered quite close behind me.
+I therefore left off kicking&mdash;which, indeed, had
+no effect on my burly captor&mdash;and consoled
+myself with the thought that, though apparently
+a widow, I was not left childless.</p>
+
+<p>After five minutes or so my giant began to
+shout. Other voices answered; then suddenly
+I was planted on my feet in the inky darkness,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_384">384</span>
+but almost at once a dozen matches were struck
+and held to a huge heap of dry brushwood. In
+two seconds we had a royal bonfire, which not
+only warmed us but lit up the country all round.</p>
+
+<p>Brigands or no brigands, I thought, these
+Arabs were very thoughtful fellows.</p>
+
+<p>I asked several times, “Where is my husband?”
+but they all raised their hands and
+shoulders in vague denial of any knowledge of
+his existence. I
+was beginning to
+be really alarmed
+when his welcome
+form loomed in
+view astride a mule.
+I do not think we
+have ever quite
+understood how he
+came to miss us in
+the confusion
+caused by the headlong
+arrival of our
+rescuers. He had
+galloped after us
+along a road where
+we had not been at
+all; but, not finding
+us, had come
+back, and had been
+guided by the firelight.</p>
+
+<p>After a good
+warming at the fire
+we started for the
+sheikh’s house, ten
+miles off, the children
+being carried
+by Arabs on horseback,
+and I astride
+a mule on a “barda.”
+On our arrival we
+found couscous and
+sour milk awaiting
+us, and&mdash;what was
+far better&mdash;some good mattresses spread on the
+ground in a big, white-washed room. At ten
+next morning we left, the kindly sheikh having
+lent us his wagonette. Peppino had gone back
+with some Arabs to dig out and bring along
+Carriage Number Two.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i071.jpg">
+<img src="images/i071.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">THE BARONESS DE BOERIO, WHO HERE DESCRIBES HER ADVENTURES
+IN ALGERIA.<br />
+[<i>From a Photograph.</i>]</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>About half-way to Boghar we met the
+regimental brake coming spanking along. The
+soldier driving told us that at eight o’clock an
+Arab had come to him saying that he was to
+harness up at once and drive for eight miles
+along the Teniet road, when he would find the
+Spahis’ captain, who was stranded with his
+family at Sheikh ben Shinan’s.</p>
+
+<p>This experience of Arab telegraphy rather
+astonished us, for we were still greenhorns in
+this respect. Since then nothing of the kind
+surprises us; I have often learnt of distant
+happenings from the Arabs long before our own
+civilized methods brought me the news. Arabs
+travel a great deal
+by night, passing
+on the tidings from
+one to another&mdash;they
+are terrible
+gossips&mdash;so that it
+is the case of the
+hare and the tortoise.
+Their signalling
+is done by
+movements of the
+burnous by day and
+fires by night. In
+each district certain
+heights are especially
+used for this
+purpose. Whilst
+travelling by road
+on one occasion I
+remember hearing
+a long hoot-like call,
+and on looking in
+the direction of the
+sound I saw an Arab
+on a hill, evidently
+signalling with his
+burnous, for he was
+making regular up-and-down
+and to-and-fro
+movements
+with it. Half an hour
+after we saw another
+Arab with a huge
+flock of sheep. In
+the evening, when
+we arrived at the place we meant to camp at, we
+found ourselves expected by the sheikh, and a
+hospitable couscous prepared. He bade us
+welcome, saying we were later than he had
+thought. When we inquired how it was he expected
+us at all, he only vouchsafed to say, with half-closed
+eyes, that he had known we were on the
+road some hours before, and had supposed we
+would stop the night there. Thereupon we remembered
+the white-robed Arab on the hill and
+the shepherd far away, and began to understand.</p>
+
+<p class="caption">(<i>To be concluded.</i>)
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_385">385</span></p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<div class="figcenter">
+<img id="Shot-Gun_Jim" src="images/i072a.jpg"
+alt="Shot-Gun Jim." />
+<h2><span class="hidden">“Shot-Gun Jim.”<br /></span>
+<span class="smcap medium">By Edward Franklin Campbell.</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+<blockquote>
+
+<p>It is safe to say that few commercial travellers meet with such exciting experiences as befell the
+three “drummers” who figure in this narrative. A business trip into the wilds of Arizona landed
+them into as fierce a skirmish with Indian outlaws as could well be imagined.</p></blockquote>
+
+<div>
+<img class="drop-cap" src="images/t.jpg" alt="T" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">Take</span> a young fellow just raw from
+city life, throw him into the wilds
+of Arizona, and arrange for him to
+tumble head-first, so to speak, into
+a brisk skirmish with Indians, and
+he will have something to remember. Such
+was the experience which befell me about 1890.</p>
+
+<p>For some years I had been travelling through
+California, visiting the
+largest cities and towns,
+introducing a “line” of
+goods for a large San
+Francisco importing
+concern. Such had been
+my success that nothing
+would suit my firm but
+to add Arizona to my
+territory, a proposition
+I made no objection to.</p>
+
+<p>Of late years Arizona
+has vastly improved, and
+trouble with the Indians
+has become almost unknown,
+especially since
+that notorious warrior,
+Geronimo, was deported
+to the State of Florida,
+but up to the ‘nineties
+there was still an occasional
+flare-up.</p>
+
+<p>Both Geronimo and
+the villainous “Apache
+Kid,” a bloodthirsty red-skin
+brigand, figure in
+this story, the first indirectly
+and the second
+very prominently.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i072b.jpg">
+<img src="images/i072b.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">THE AUTHOR, MR. EDWARD FRANKLIN CAMPBELL.<br />
+<i>From a Photograph.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Having reached the
+town of Wilson, in the
+southern part of the
+territory, I fell in with two fellow-commercial
+salesmen&mdash;Levy, representing a large dry-goods
+concern, and Bates, handling a line of boots for
+a St. Louis house.</p>
+
+<p>Levy imparted the fact that he was going to
+visit a large mining camp, called World City,
+located some hundred and sixty miles to the
+north and as many miles distant from the railway.
+Bates said he would join Levy provided
+I would make one of the party.</p>
+
+<p>Although my route did not include this side-trip,
+I became convinced that it would pay me
+well to visit World City. By sharing expenses
+with Levy and Bates, the
+trip could be made most
+reasonably, so I wired
+my house accordingly,
+and Levy hastened to
+make arrangements
+with a local celebrity,
+a Scotchman named
+McGill, for transportation.</p>
+
+<p>An agreement having
+been made with McGill,
+the balance of the day
+was consumed in making
+preparations for our
+departure on the following
+morning. There
+were blankets to buy,
+for one is never safe
+without them. No
+matter how hot and
+burning the day may
+be, the nights are always
+crisp and chill on the
+Arizona plains, and one
+never knows while making
+such a trip when he
+will land at his destination.
+Nine chances out
+of ten he will be hours
+late. Our journey was
+no exception to the rule.</p>
+
+<p>On the following morning I was aroused by
+McGill. On the wagon, which was a heavy
+four-wheel affair, he had loaded three shoe-sample
+trunks, the property of Bates, and two
+immense square trunks carried by Levy. Beside
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_386">386</span>
+this there were sundry boxes and bundles of
+blankets, as well as our heavy overcoats and
+small personal luggage.</p>
+
+<p>After a hasty breakfast of ham and eggs&mdash;I
+generally ordered ham and eggs in Arizona
+because other meats were far from tender in
+those days&mdash;we took our places on the wagon.
+Levy occupied the front seat with McGill, while
+Bates and I sat on top of a huge trunk, slippery
+and uncertain.</p>
+
+<p>Although the animals seemed good and hardy,
+they were small, and I do not think we realized
+the great weight of the combined load. At the
+wheels we had a pair of small and nimble mules,
+and as leaders a pair of small bay horses, whose
+looks did not recommend them.</p>
+
+<p>The first day out all went well, and we reached
+the little town of Bonita, a most desolate-looking
+place. We had travelled less than thirty miles.</p>
+
+<p>We drove up to the door of a little adobe
+building with a thatched roof. On the front a
+crude sign informed the public that it was a
+“General Store.” Another placard indicated
+that it was also a public-house, or “saloon,” as
+they are called in America.</p>
+
+<p>On entering we found ourselves in a small
+room with a rough counter running down one
+side, behind which was the smiling face of the
+proprietor, who lived with his wife and two
+beautiful daughters in the one adjoining room&mdash;these
+two rooms constituting the entire building.</p>
+
+<p>We spent the night on the floor of the store,
+in front of the counter, and next morning
+resumed our journey, hoping to reach the little
+group of buildings known as Standard before
+night. In my own mind&mdash;and I think the
+others believed the same&mdash;I did not really
+expect to reach Standard that night, for it was
+nearly fifty miles distant and our animals were
+far from fresh.</p>
+
+<p>I think it was about ten o’clock in the morning
+that we saw a cloud of dust several miles ahead.
+In time it proved to be a company of negro
+soldiers, marching to a neighbouring military
+post.</p>
+
+<p>As they came alongside we could see a
+number of rifles sticking out of the canvas of
+the great covered wagons which accompanied
+them. They halted, and an officer, whom
+McGill said was a colonel, came over. He
+saluted us pleasantly and asked laughingly:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>“Are you not afraid to travel in this direction?”</p>
+
+<p>McGill inquired why, whereupon the officer
+explained that “Apache Kid” was out with a
+small band of warriors, that Geronimo had
+disappeared from the Indian Reservation, and
+that serious trouble was brewing. The troops,
+he added, were being moved for the purpose of
+heading off “Apache Kid” and his crowd.</p>
+
+<p>The smiling face of the colonel rather misled
+me. He did not seem really serious, and, as I
+sized up the situation, I believed it quite possible
+that he recognised our party as “tenderfeet,”
+and desired to frighten us.</p>
+
+<p>After the soldiers had become a mere blur in
+the distance we resumed our journey. We had
+gone but a few miles farther, however, when an
+accident occurred to our wagon. Something
+gave way&mdash;I don’t remember what&mdash;and it
+became impossible to proceed. Levy took a
+look at the wagon and declared it was “no good,
+anyway”; Bates joined in the abuse, and McGill
+lost his temper. Finally, I acted as peacemaker,
+and suggested that something would have to be
+done as the afternoon was advancing. Either
+we must return to Bonita on foot, abandoning the
+wagon and contents, or McGill would have to
+take the team back and secure another conveyance.</p>
+
+<p>The last alternative being accepted, we drew
+lots, and it fell to Levy to return to Bonita with
+McGill, while Bates and I remained to look after
+the property.</p>
+
+<p>McGill insisted that with the load off he would
+be able to haul the wagon back to Bonita for
+repairs, so we set to work and, after a struggle
+with the trunks, got the vehicle in shape to be
+drawn.</p>
+
+<p>It was with great misgivings that I saw my
+companions depart. It was not to my liking to
+remain as a guardian of that mass of luggage.
+Bates did not seem to mind it. He simply
+offered me his last cigar, then lighted it himself
+and sat down on the bare ground.</p>
+
+<p>I think we could see in every direction for
+twenty miles and more, except toward the
+mountains, which were to the east, some five
+miles distant.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, Bates,” I said, “what are we going to
+do? It’s getting mighty cold. The wind
+sweeps down from that mountain as if we might
+get a little of the storm brewing up there.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s no mistake, my boy, and if I am not
+in error we are going to get snow inside of two
+hours. Most extraordinary for Arizona.”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t you think we could arrange some
+shelter with these trunks and roll of canvas?”</p>
+
+<p>“Just the thing, my boy. Glad you suggested
+it.”</p>
+
+<p>So we set to work and built our house, forming
+our walls by arranging the trunks in a square,
+leaving a small opening to be used as a door.
+On this we spread the great piece of canvas
+which had been brought along to cover the
+wagon in case of storm, thus making a roof.
+That it might not be carried away by the wind,
+which was now howling like a hurricane, we
+weighted it with small boulders. With other
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_387">387</span>
+rocks we built a small fireplace and chimney,
+without and facing our door. With the limited
+supply of wood, which was very scarce&mdash;sagebrush
+and gnarled mesquite&mdash;we built a small
+fire in our fireplace, much to our joy, for we
+were now actually blue with the cold.</p>
+
+<p>The sky was now thoroughly overcast with
+snow-clouds and the snow was beginning to fall,
+settling in miniature drifts beneath the sage
+bushes.</p>
+
+<p>In removing the trunks from the wagon our
+labours had been heavy, and we realized, as
+Bates expressed it, “we were twenty miles
+from nowhere, and not a drop of water nearer
+than Bonita.”</p>
+
+<p>Bates rummaged through the kit for a drink
+of any kind, but was only able to produce a
+diminutive flask with about one swallow of
+whisky in it. After offering this to me he took
+it down with a cheering “Here’s to you!”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t throw away that flask, Bates,” I
+called to him as I saw him taking aim at a near-by
+sage bush. “I may be able to collect a
+drink with that.”</p>
+
+<p>I filled the little flask as full as I could
+pack it with snow which I collected under the
+bushes, then held it carefully over the fire,
+reducing the snow to water. This barely gave
+us enough to moisten our lips, and I gave it up.</p>
+
+<p>Then we wrapped ourselves up in our blankets
+and reclined inside our improvised house and
+discussed matters.</p>
+
+<p>“I say, Bates, what did you think of the
+colonel’s story about Apaches being out?” I
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Can’t say. I know if I were an Apache
+and had a warm wigwam to crawl into, the
+warpath could go to perdition. I’m sure I
+wouldn’t bother with it this kind of weather.
+You won’t have the pleasure of meeting Geronimo,
+’Apache Kid,’ nor any other human&mdash;and,
+I might add, inhuman&mdash;being till the
+weather lets up.”</p>
+
+<p>“What have you got for protection in case
+we do run across them?” I asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, the only protection I have is a pair of
+boots made by the Sun Shoe Company, which I
+represent. With these on, and a fair start, I
+might outrun them. That’s all I’ve got for
+protection. What have you got?”</p>
+
+<p>“Well,” I said, rather apologetically, “I have
+a revolver here, but it isn’t much good. It
+might do to fire salutes with, but I’m afraid it
+would not do much execution. The fact is,
+I’ve not fired the thing for some years.”</p>
+
+<p>“Now, look here, my boy. If you should
+ever shoot me with that thing, and I should
+find it out, I should be quite put out about it,”
+said Bates, with a laugh. “We might as well
+quit worrying. If the wild and woolly Apaches
+get us, it’s fate. They’ll get us, that’s all. I’m
+going to sleep.”</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i074.jpg">
+<img src="images/i074.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">LOOKING OUT OF BRICK DUST CANYON.<br />
+[<i>From a Photograph.</i>]</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Suiting the action to the word, he rolled over
+and left me to my dreary thoughts. I tried to
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_388">388</span>
+sleep and did drop into a light slumber, from
+which I was suddenly awakened by a startled
+exclamation from Bates.</p>
+
+<p>As I opened my eyes he was just going
+through the doorway on all fours.</p>
+
+<p>“Bring that revolver here,” he called to
+me.</p>
+
+<p>As quickly as possible I was out after him.
+He was gazing towards the mountains in the
+distance.</p>
+
+<p>“What has happened?” I asked, in some
+alarm at the sudden call to arms.</p>
+
+<p>He explained that something had come to the
+door of our house. He could hear it, but only
+caught a slight glimpse of it as he raised his
+head, for it dashed out of sight immediately.
+It was evidently an animal of some sort, for we
+found the marks of its feet and claws in the soft
+earth. Whatever it was we never caught sight
+of it.</p>
+
+<p>We were now thoroughly awake. The weather
+had cleared, the sun was shining warmly and
+my spirits were beginning to rise.</p>
+
+<p>Far off, down the incline of the plain, we
+could see the spot known as Bonita. Between
+us and the town all was open, save for some
+sage bushes here and there dotting the
+view.</p>
+
+<p>Surely McGill should now be on his way
+back, but not a sign of him could we see.</p>
+
+<p>We recalled the fact that we were hungry.
+Bates rummaged in the kit. The net results
+were a small paper of biscuits and a tin of beef&mdash;nothing
+else.</p>
+
+<p>We ate all the biscuits and half of the beef,
+collected more firewood, and, at about six
+o’clock, discovered the team slowly wending
+its way from Bonita. It was more than an hour
+before it arrived at our camp.</p>
+
+<p>Another serious matter now confronted us.
+Either we must stay with our improvised camp
+or, as McGill suggested, make for Brick Dust
+Canyon, in the mountain, where lived a
+frontiersman named James W. Smith, who had
+a little farm situated on an oasis of productive
+earth in the midst of this vast wilderness of
+alkali and sand.</p>
+
+<p>Eventually we decided upon the latter alternative,
+and succeeded in loading up and making
+a start.</p>
+
+<p>For a long time we crept upward, no one
+riding except McGill, in order to relieve the
+tired animals.</p>
+
+<p>Reaching the summit of the ascent at last,
+McGill stopped, for we had now to descend
+into a deep canyon.</p>
+
+<p>Daylight had by this time given way to
+deepest night, and ahead all looked black and
+forbidding. Our driver could not even see the
+road, which was, moreover, obscured by a
+growth of trees in the canyon.</p>
+
+<p>“Gentlemen,” said McGill, “this rig has no
+brake to hold it. There is a big down-grade
+here and a sharp turn at the bottom. From
+there to Jim’s house is about a mile. We must
+manage to stop one of the hind wheels, for these
+mules will never be able to hold the load in
+check; besides, I can’t see the road, and must
+let the animals take their course.”</p>
+
+<p>We tied the right rear wheel with a stout bit
+of rope and started again, but with this difference&mdash;Levy,
+Bates, and I each lighted cigars, which
+Levy had brought from Bonita, and, puffing
+vigorously at these, walked ahead of the load,
+endeavouring to pilot McGill by the glow of the
+lighted “stogies.”</p>
+
+<p>There were times when the mules and the
+locked wheel were insufficient to check the
+wagon to any great extent, on account of the
+steepness of the grade, but at first all went well.
+It was not long before we reached the sharp
+turn at the bottom. We were greatly in advance
+of McGill now, and, indeed, we could hear
+nothing of him, so Levy went back to investigate
+and to warn him of the danger ahead. He
+found the wagon halted at a fairly level spot to
+recuperate the exhausted animals. Levy told
+the Scotsman that he was about to plunge down
+the last and most precipitous piece of road, and
+urged him to give it up.</p>
+
+<p>McGill was headstrong, however, and insisted
+upon going ahead, so we took up our stand with
+our cigars, to mark the turn at the bottom, and
+the big vehicle started.</p>
+
+<p>We could hear it gaining speed every moment.
+Mingled with the rumbling of the wagon and the
+clatter of the animals’ hoofs we heard the shouts
+of McGill, who had now lost all control over his
+team.</p>
+
+<p>On they came with a rush and a roar, and we,
+who were lighting the way, discovered we were
+in some danger. At the last moment we sprang
+back into the rocks and brush at the side as the
+team swept irresistibly on.</p>
+
+<p>The leaders took the turn all right, but the
+next instant there was a crash and a yell from
+McGill. The wagon had left the road and
+plunged into a tree, the harness gave way, and
+Bedlam broke loose.</p>
+
+<p>The Scotsman saved his skin by jumping fairly
+into a bush, while we sprang to the animals’
+heads to check them. They showed, however,
+no disposition on their part to run away; they
+knew when they had had enough.</p>
+
+<p>Away down in the distance we could see a
+light, which McGill said was at Jim’s house.
+He would leave us with the animals and seek
+assistance from the house, he told us.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_389">389</span></p>
+
+<p>“I shall go across-lots,” he shouted back to
+us, “by a trail which will save a lot of walking.”</p>
+
+<p>For hours Bates, Levy, and I awaited his
+return in vain. We exhausted every topic of
+conversation we could think of, and at last,
+tired, disgusted, and feeling thoroughly out of
+sorts, we set off down the road, taking the
+animals with us.</p>
+
+<p>Although we could still see the light, we
+walked for a long time before we actually
+arrived before a small adobe
+house, which was surrounded
+by a thick wall some eight feet
+high. The road led us to a
+pair of huge solid gates, which,
+being closed, prevented us seeing
+within. We called out,
+and in a few seconds a voice
+answered us, and we were conscious
+of someone approaching
+the gates with a lantern.</p>
+
+<p>This proved to be Jim Smith
+himself. He seemed to be in
+a very merry mood, for,
+although we were total
+strangers, he almost laughed
+in our faces. He had a story
+to tell, it soon appeared, of a
+misfortune which had befallen
+our friend McGill.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed that in attempting
+to take his short cut
+“across-lots,” the Scotsman
+had struck a cattle trail, which
+led to a watering-trough set
+beside a newly-dug well, the
+existence of which he knew
+nothing of.</p>
+
+<p>By a curious accident, he
+walked straight into this well and
+plunged into eight feet of water.</p>
+
+<p>It happened that Smith was at that moment
+bringing some young cattle into his walled
+enclosure, and, hearing the muffled cries of
+McGill in the well, believed they proceeded from
+a cow in difficulties.</p>
+
+<p>Lantern in hand, he made his way to the well
+and called out. Judge of his surprise when he
+heard a voice, as from the tomb, growl:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve lost my bloomin’ pipe!”</p>
+
+<p>Looking into the well, he discovered McGill
+clinging to the sides as best he could with fingers
+and nails. It was but a moment’s work to
+throw him a line and bring him out, as sorry
+and dejected-looking a scarecrow as one could
+imagine. Strange to relate, it was all that Jim
+could do to keep McGill from going back into
+the well for his cherished briar, the loss of which
+seemed to worry him greatly.</p>
+
+<p>We found the Scotsman in a very bad temper,
+complaining bitterly of the loss of his pipe,
+which he told us he was smoking at the time
+of his misfortune.</p>
+
+<p>We received a hearty welcome from Jim
+and his wife. The latter was busy soothing
+their ten-months-old baby to sleep. There
+they lived, in that little one-room house, eating,
+sleeping, and cooking in the same apartment.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i076.jpg">
+<img src="images/i076.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">“SHOT-GUN JIM.”<br />
+<i>From a Photograph.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>I began to speculate as to where we tired
+travellers would find a place to
+lay our heads. The house was
+a solid adobe, without windows.
+In the doorway hung a frame,
+on which was fastened a strip
+of canvas in lieu of a door.</p>
+
+<p>A hearty meal was prepared
+by Mrs. Smith, after which we
+were invited to go out and
+bring in our beds.</p>
+
+<p>On our return we found
+that Mrs. Smith and the babe
+were already in the huge bed
+in the corner. Jim was preparing
+to follow, and we were
+invited to spread our blankets
+on the floor, which, like the
+Bonita store, was mother earth.</p>
+
+<p>Our sleep was far more restful
+than on the previous night.
+At an early hour we were
+awakened by Smith, who
+seemed to be worried about
+something. I followed him to
+the door of the house and discovered
+that he was holding a
+whispered conversation with a
+stranger, a young fellow of
+about eighteen years. As soon
+as I approached they stopped
+speaking and I was introduced
+to the young man, whose name was given as
+“Hank.”</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly Smith spoke:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>“We might as well tell ’em about it, Hank,”
+he said. “They’ve got to know it sooner or
+later. Tain’t safe to get out of this place now.
+Besides, your horse is used up.”</p>
+
+<p>I glanced in the direction indicated, and saw
+a horse covered in lather, with drooping head and
+general dejected appearance. I knew he must
+have had fearful riding to be in this condition.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, you tell ’em, Jim,” replied Hank.
+“I reckon we’re here, all of us, to stay awhile.”</p>
+
+<p>“I can’t afford to remain, Mr. Smith,” I said,
+thinking that the wrecked wagon might be the
+reason for the conversation. “If the outfit will
+hold together I think we had better go on as
+soon as possible.”
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_390">390</span></p>
+
+<p>Smith looked at me with pitying eyes.</p>
+
+<p>“You may never leave this place at all,” he
+returned, gravely. “This young man is the
+only survivor of a massacre, about ten miles
+from here. ‘Apache Kid’ and his band are,
+perhaps, at this very moment close to our gates.”</p>
+
+<p>Instinctively I glanced at the gates, and
+noticed for the first time that heavy timbers
+were propped against them.</p>
+
+<p>“Not only that, but McGill has disappeared,”
+continued Smith. “I think he may have gone in
+search of his pipe. We dare not risk going
+outside the enclosure, and he must get back as
+best he can.”</p>
+
+<p>Just then the others of our party and
+Mrs. Smith, with the babe in her arms, joined
+us, having begun to realize that something was
+amiss.</p>
+
+<p>Then Jim began to organize his forces. First
+he took an inventory of the available arms and
+ammunition, calling on our party to exhibit such
+weapons as we had about us.</p>
+
+<p>Next Jim brought out a number of guns.
+There were three excellent repeating rifles, with
+several hundred rounds of ammunition, and an
+old shot-gun, which proved of no value. Next
+came Jim’s own pet&mdash;a beautiful double-barrelled
+shot-gun. With these were several
+boxes of ammunition. Last came a motley
+array of “six-shooters,” a part of which were
+serviceable and for which there was a limited
+amount of ammunition. Two hand-axes and a
+small affair for chopping firewood were counted
+as weapons for close quarters.</p>
+
+<p>The whole lot was delivered into the care of
+Mrs. Smith, who was instructed to load the guns
+and arrange the ammunition conveniently on a
+table brought from the house.</p>
+
+<p>At odd moments the good woman was
+assembling quantities of food, so that, in case
+of an attack, prolonged or otherwise, we might
+have her services at the ammunition.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile Hank had been sent to the top of
+the house, which had a low, flat roof, where he
+was keeping close watch with a pair of field-glasses.
+He called to Jim that he believed he
+had discovered McGill in the topmost branches
+of a tree, a long distance up the canyon. It
+appeared that he was making signals, for we
+soon discovered that he occasionally waved a
+white handkerchief, and he appeared to be trying
+to draw our attention to something to the
+south.</p>
+
+<p>Presently Hank reported that McGill was
+climbing down the tree, and in a moment he
+was running down the road towards the house
+as fast as his long legs would carry him. Jim
+prepared to open one of the gates.</p>
+
+<p>Just then a shot rang out, followed by others.
+We could hear McGill coming full tilt. Jim
+opened the gate a little way and reported that
+a band of Indians were in close pursuit of the
+Scotsman.</p>
+
+<p>A moment later, breathless and exhausted,
+McGill flung himself through the open gate,
+which was speedily secured behind him.</p>
+
+<p>As quickly as possible Jim ran a rough wagon
+out of a shed and placed it alongside of the
+wall. It was evident now why this latter had
+been built high and strong; the reason for
+placing the wagon beside it, however, was not
+yet evident to us.</p>
+
+<p>Soon we heard the rush of a score of Indian
+horses, the whoops and yells of their savage
+riders, and the crack of their rifles.</p>
+
+<p>Their shots did no damage, however, but were
+sufficiently accurate to cause Hank to dodge
+behind the stone chimney, whence he dropped
+over the edge to the ground.</p>
+
+<p>There was a savage onslaught upon the
+immense heavy gates, but they held firm, being
+well braced by the timbers. So far not a
+sound had escaped us, and it was evident that
+the Indians were chagrined that they had not
+made a greater impression.</p>
+
+<p>For a few moments we could hear them in
+consultation before the gates, and presently a
+voice called out in broken English.</p>
+
+<p>To this no reply was made, nor was any
+evidence of life vouchsafed from our side.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, boys,” whispered Jim, “get ready.
+They’re going to show their heads in a minute&mdash;just
+over there, near the wagon. That is the
+easiest place for them to look over, and I have
+tried to make it look more inviting. So look
+alive and each pick his game. Don’t miss, or
+there’ll be trouble.”</p>
+
+<p>Next moment five ugly Apache heads bobbed
+up over the wall simultaneously. They were
+evidently so sure that the place was unprotected
+that four of them, in their enthusiasm, clambered
+half-way on top of the wall before they became
+aware of the reception that had been planned
+for them.</p>
+
+<p>The volley that followed their appearance was
+almost like one shot, and the four most daring
+red-skins received the bullets intended for them.
+Two were killed instantly, and partly hung over
+the wall as they doubled up; two others, mortally
+wounded, slid off the wall and were dragged
+away by their companions. The less venturesome
+got away with a whole skin.</p>
+
+<p>With our volley pandemonium seemed to
+break loose; the red-skins let out a yell that
+fairly chilled us to the bone. Jim called us to
+seek shelter at the rear of the house.</p>
+
+<p>We were none too soon, for a terrific fire was
+poured into the enclosure by the Indians, who
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_391">391</span>
+were taking haphazard shots towards us, without
+putting their heads into jeopardy.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i078.jpg">
+<img src="images/i078.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">“THE VOLLEY FOLLOWING THEIR APPEARANCE WAS ALMOST LIKE ONE SHOT.”</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Presently we discovered that one lot of the
+savages were trying to burrow under the gates,
+and were indeed making some headway. Jim
+seemed to be everywhere at once, using his
+shot-gun as his sole means of defence. The
+moment a hand was seen in the growing excavation
+under the gate he let drive with his
+shot-gun, and another Indian was out of
+commission.</p>
+
+<p>I remember I kept a sort of mental tally of
+the fallen. Hank had told me that there were
+about twenty-three in the band, so I calculated:
+“Four dead on the first attack on the wall;
+one shot through the hand, under the gate.
+Balance to their credit&mdash;eighteen.”</p>
+
+<p>Just then we received an unexpected shock.
+We saw a curl of smoke rising above the gates;
+the savages were piling brush against them, to
+which they had already set fire. This was a
+serious matter, which even Jim had not calculated
+upon. He ordered us to lie low while he
+took a look round.</p>
+
+<p>I was so interested to know what he would
+do that I could not resist the temptation to put
+my head around the corner of the house, and
+this is what I saw.</p>
+
+<p>Jim crept on hands and knees towards the
+wagon which we had placed against the wall.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_392">392</span>
+In a moment he had reached it, shot-gun in
+hand, and silently and slowly raised himself into
+it, gradually straightening out with his head and
+arms just above the wall. Then, quick as a
+flash, he took aim. There was a crash&mdash;or
+rather a double crash, for he had fired both
+barrels&mdash;an awful yell from the Indians, and he
+was speeding back to safety.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i079.jpg">
+<img src="images/i079.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">“I FELT MYSELF BEING DRAGGED OVER.”</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>One savage, braver than the rest, took a quick
+shot at him. The bullet did no harm to Jim,
+but came near being fatal to me, for I had been
+so intent on watching him that I now found
+that I had unconsciously stepped into the open.</p>
+
+<p>Instead of bolting for shelter, I had but one
+thing in mind&mdash;to check up the account and
+see how many “good” Indians there were and
+how many bad ones.</p>
+
+<p>Consequently, in a moment&mdash;foolhardy as it
+may seem&mdash;I was on the wagon, peering over
+the wall, taking account of the dead and
+wounded at the gates.</p>
+
+<p>Although Jim’s shot-gun had done fearful
+execution, there were but two who appeared to
+be actually dead.</p>
+
+<p>Just then something struck me in the face, a
+hand grasped me from over the wall, and I felt
+myself being dragged over, into the arms of the
+“Apache Kid” himself! Several other savages
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_393">393</span>
+were running to his assistance. All that I can
+recall is that I thought my last hour had come,
+and struck out blindly with my fists, clinging, as
+best I could, to the wall with my legs.</p>
+
+<p>I am not an experienced boxer, but I had the
+advantage over my assailant, for I was uppermost.</p>
+
+<p>Things seemed to be going badly with me,
+however, for I felt my hold on the wall gradually
+weakening.</p>
+
+<p>Just at that instant I heard a rush behind me.
+I was so done up that I could only think of
+more Indians, but in reality it was Levy, Hank,
+and Jim coming to the rescue.</p>
+
+<p>I was grasped from behind and felt that I
+should be pulled to pieces. I let out with my
+fists with renewed vigour, and landed such a
+fierce tattoo on the face of my captor that he
+involuntarily sought to protect his face with his
+hands, whereupon Levy, Hank, Jim, and I fell
+into a confused heap over the side of the
+wagon.</p>
+
+<p>It was a few minutes before they restored me
+to my senses, and I found myself with clothing
+half torn off, covered with dust, and generally
+bruised.</p>
+
+<p>My first words were:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>“Two killed, three wounded badly; net
+balance thirteen. That number is unlucky.
+We’ll win!”</p>
+
+<p>“What in the name of common sense are you
+talking about?” asked Bates, who was bending
+over me.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, there were twenty-three Indians when
+we started; we killed four at first shot, three at
+the second, and two at the third, besides
+wounding three beyond present help. That
+leaves thirteen, doesn’t it?”</p>
+
+<p>We were recalled to a sense of our peril by
+the sound of breaking timbers. The gates were
+being forced!</p>
+
+<p>Through the chinks we could see the Indians
+working industriously with a battering-ram,
+improvised from the trunk of a tree. At any
+moment the gates might fall, and we knew there
+would be little hope for us once the red-skins
+gained an entrance.</p>
+
+<p>Jim now sent his wife inside the house for
+better protection. The little babe had, up to this
+time, been peacefully sleeping on the bed, which
+must now be used to barricade the door of the
+house. Consequently, the little fellow was
+disturbed as his mother moved the huge affair
+against the opening, and he, too, added to the
+din of the engagement.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, gentlemen,” said Jim, “we’ve got to
+make a last stand. The gates will be down in
+a minute; they have been greatly weakened by
+the fire. Every one of you to the roof!”</p>
+
+<p>Up to the roof we climbed as a last resort.
+I think we all realized the gravity of the
+situation.</p>
+
+<p>We stretched ourselves flat, weapons in hand,
+and waited. It seemed ages. We could hear
+the cries of the infant mingled with the sobs of
+the distracted mother. Bates, who had an
+abominable voice, tried to sing a hymn. Smith
+told him to be quiet&mdash;the situation was trying
+enough without his music.</p>
+
+<p>Presently there came a crash&mdash;the gates were
+down. In rushed the red-skins, a fearless crowd.
+There were just thirteen; I counted them.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, gentlemen, let ’em have it,” called
+Jim, in a low tone.</p>
+
+<p>Well, we did let them have it; there was no
+mistake about that. There was a blaze from
+the rifles, Jim’s shot-gun, and the revolvers, and
+we all pumped lead as fast as we could.</p>
+
+<p>When the smoke cleared a little we looked
+below. There were eight red-skins as dead as
+ever they could be. Three more were crawling
+away on all fours, seriously wounded.</p>
+
+<p>This left two on my record unaccounted for.
+We soon spied them making off over the little
+hills towards Brick Dust Canyon as fast as their
+legs could carry them.</p>
+
+<p>One of them was “Apache Kid,” the leader.
+He got off with a whole skin, but I’ll wager that
+he had some marks about his face.</p>
+
+<p>When we got down from the roof we could
+no longer hear Mrs. Smith or the babe, and
+feared they had been killed by stray bullets.
+Repeated calls failed to bring response.</p>
+
+<p>When we forced an entrance we found her in
+a dead faint, lying on the bed beside the infant,
+who was chewing his fist and chuckling as if in
+great glee.</p>
+
+<p>Woman-like, Mrs. Smith deferred her swoon
+till all danger was past.</p>
+
+<p>To the delight of McGill, his miserable briar
+was recovered that day by Jim, who said he did
+not want the well spoiled, otherwise he would
+have left it there.</p>
+
+<p>“Shot-gun Jim”&mdash;for that is how he is always
+known now, on account of his fearful execution
+with his shot-gun, for it was he who really saved
+the day&mdash;has never been troubled by Apaches
+since. He still insists on living in that forsaken
+spot, forgetful of the terrible scenes of carnage
+and danger he has passed through, working at a
+copper mine which he discovered up beyond
+Brick Dust Canyon.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_394">394</span></p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<div class="figcenter">
+<img id="A_Perilous_Mission" src="images/i081.jpg"
+alt="A Perilous Mission." />
+<h2><span class="hidden">A Perilous Mission.<br /></span>
+<span class="smcap medium">By S. F. Martin, late of the Royal Niger Company’s Service.</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+<blockquote>
+
+<p>The modestly-told story of a daring deed. At a time of great anxiety, when England and France were
+on the verge of conflict in Africa and the powerful Mohammedan native States were watching for an
+opportunity of throwing off the yoke of both countries, Mr. Martin was District Agent of the Royal Niger
+Company at Borgu. He was instructed to secure reliable information as to what was happening in the
+turbulent robber kingdom of Kontogora, and he obtained it by the hazardous expedient of disguising himself
+as a Haussa and, taking his life in his hands, penetrating right into the enemy’s capital. His adventures
+during this journey are set forth below, though the narrative contains barely a hint of the strain of
+the ordeal or the awful fate that would have befallen the author had his real identity been suspected.</p></blockquote>
+
+<div>
+<img class="drop-cap" src="images/t.jpg" alt="T" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">Towards</span> the latter end of 1898,
+before the conquest of Nigeria, I
+was placed in charge of the interests
+of the Royal Niger Company,
+Chartered and Limited, in the
+Borgu district of the Niger Territories. My
+instructions, amongst other things, were to
+watch events, political and otherwise, and to
+report the same to head-quarters.</p>
+
+<p>It was a time of great stress and no little
+peril to our West African Empire, for not only
+were the various races of the Territories in a
+state of unrest and hostility to the white man’s
+domination, but at that period we were also at
+loggerheads with the French, whose troops were
+encroaching on our frontiers from all sides,
+necessitating a special field force being formed,
+under Colonel (later General Sir Frederick)
+Lugard, to deal with the situation. The native
+Mohammedan States, seeing this, thought to take
+advantage of the crisis to the detriment of both
+nations.</p>
+
+<p>The most turbulent of all these native States
+was Kontogora, a town lying to the eastward of
+the Niger River. At the time of which I write
+there were British troops at Jebba, Leabba,
+Boussa, Roffia, Gomba, Lafagon, and Illa, as
+well as smaller garrisons scattered about, all on
+the Niger. There was a strong force also at
+Zaria, a large town away to the east, some distance
+south of Kano. The French were prowling
+about in between.</p>
+
+<p>It being reported that Kontogora was preparing
+to take up arms, I determined to find out
+the facts of the case for myself, as, if this State
+seriously intended causing trouble and gained
+any successes against us, the whole Mohammedan
+Empire was sure to rise to a man, and it would
+be difficult for us to hold our own, to say
+nothing of expelling the French. My orders
+were to remain in Boussa, but, having weighed
+the pros and cons very carefully, and decided
+that it would be well within the spirit, if not
+exactly the letter, of my instructions to take the
+action I intended, I determined to find out in
+person how far this rumour was true and how
+great the danger really was to our Imperial
+interests. I had mastered the Haussa tongue,
+the prevailing language of those regions, and
+could hold my own easily with the Haussas
+themselves, my natural aptitude for picking up
+tongues standing me in good stead. Consequently,
+without informing anyone where I
+was going, beyond leaving word that I was off
+on a shooting trip, on the night of the 17th of
+November, 1898, I dyed myself from head to
+foot a deep brown, arrayed myself in very
+shabby Haussa clothes, and set off, with my
+guide, Mama, for Kontogora. I took the name
+of “Abdu Maidowda”&mdash;Abdu the dirty. All
+carriers in Haussaland take nicknames, given
+them by their masters or companions. It is
+seldom that a white man ever knows the real
+names of his servants.</p>
+
+<p>We tramped all that night, and next morning
+stopped at a small village in the midst of farmlands
+in the N’gaski Kingdom. The whole
+country hereabouts was bitterly hostile to the
+white man’s <i>r&eacute;gime</i>. The state of unrest
+was manifest everywhere; people went armed
+to their work in the fields, as raids from
+neighbouring towns seemed to be of frequent
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_395">395</span>
+occurrence. Although the various native kingdoms
+were quite at one with regard to their
+hatred of the white man, yet amongst themselves
+they were always warring and raiding for slaves&mdash;the
+big towns bullying the smaller villages.
+The main cause of this was the heavy slave
+tribute levied by the Sultan of Sokoto&mdash;the
+great head of the Moslem Church in the Sudan&mdash;on
+all his vassal States.</p>
+
+<p>Having rested for a few hours, we set out
+again about midday. It was fiercely hot as
+we trudged through the guinea-corn fields that
+stretched for miles all around us, and the heat,
+striking down from the fiery sun, that hung
+directly overhead, made me dizzy. I staggered
+along at times in a
+kind of hot, sweltering
+day-dream&mdash;seeing
+things that did
+not exist, and thinking
+the most absurd
+thoughts. Once I
+called a halt at a well
+of very dirty water,
+flung myself down on
+my hands and knees,
+and bathed my head
+and neck for several
+minutes, Mama looking
+on amused. The
+people in the fields
+were gathering in the
+corn in feverish haste,
+but every now and
+then they paused long
+enough to question
+us as to our destination
+and whence we
+came. We invariably
+told the same tale&mdash;we
+were travelling to
+Kontogora from
+Illorin.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i082.jpg">
+<img src="images/i082.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">THE AUTHOR, MR. S. F. MARTIN, IN HAUSSA DRESS.<br />
+<i>From a Photograph.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>It must have been
+about 4 p.m., judging
+by the sun, when, on
+that second day out,
+we topped a rise of rocky ground and came face
+to face with the head of a caravan of some thirty
+people, with a large number of goats, coming
+from the westward. There were several women
+on donkeys, ten armed men on horseback, and
+the balance consisted of carriers. As we stood
+watching them the caravan halted and one of
+the horsemen came prancing up to us with a
+great flourishing of his spear. He asked us, very
+roughly, whence we came and whither we were
+bound. Mama answered that we were from
+Illorin, whither we had taken loads for a rich
+merchant from Kano, and were now bound for
+Kontogora, where we hoped to obtain work, as
+we understood that the Emir was preparing for
+war on the white man. He then asked our
+questioner if we might not join his caravan, and
+if he would let us carry a load each in return for
+our food. At this we were taken before the
+head of the party, who proved to be an enormously
+fat woman. With a wave of the hand
+she gave her consent, and we were forthwith
+enlisted in the line of coolies.</p>
+
+<p>We pushed on that afternoon to some farmhouses,
+where we halted for the night. The fat
+lady took up her abode in the headman’s hut,
+and we carriers wandered about to find quarters
+for ourselves. For
+the most part we slept
+in the open, beneath
+a great tree growing
+outside the entrance
+to the headman’s
+compound. Mama
+and I had no intention
+of losing sight
+of our companions,
+as we did not wish
+to let slip this excellent
+chance of getting
+in to Kontogora,
+which was also the
+destination of the
+caravan, without
+danger of possible
+discovery. The farm
+people were good
+enough to give us
+food and drink, and
+also supplied us with
+plenty of firewood.</p>
+
+<p>After sitting around
+the fire for a short
+time, we coolies one
+by one curled up on
+our mats (each
+carried a small grass
+mat) and, with our
+feet to the fire, slept
+the dreamless sleep of the utterly weary.</p>
+
+<p>Next morning I was awakened by Mama
+shaking me by the shoulder. My clothes were
+wet with dew, and I commenced to shiver with
+cold, cursing myself in my sleepy condition for
+being so foolish as to put myself in such a
+perilous predicament.</p>
+
+<p>As I arose and stretched myself I beheld
+silent forms passing to and fro, and signs that
+the world was awakening became increasingly
+evident. Then fires were lit and breakfast
+cooked; but not before we had washed our
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_396">396</span>
+eyes, mouth, and hands, uttering a few words
+from the Koran the while. After partaking of
+boiled guinea-corn and soup, we espied the
+fat lady preparing to mount her donkey, and,
+securing our loads, took our place in the column
+that began to form up. Soon we were once
+again trudging through the open country on our
+way to Kontogora.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i083.jpg">
+<img src="images/i083.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">“ONE OF THE HORSEMEN CAME PRANCING UP TO US WITH A GREAT FLOURISHING OF HIS SPEAR.”</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>All along the route I was struck with the
+apparent haste with which the people were
+gathering in the corn. Our companions told us
+that the Seriki (King) of Kontogora was preparing
+to wage war on the white man, and had
+ordered his people to get in all their corn at
+once.</p>
+
+<p>The day before we entered Kontogora we
+were overtaken by a raiding party, who were
+returning to that place with their spoil&mdash;about
+twenty young girls and women, as well as several
+little children&mdash;all tied together, each having one
+wrist made fast to the neck, across the chest.</p>
+
+<p>Their captors were Fulehs and Haussas, on
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_397">397</span>
+horseback, armed with swords and spears, and
+one or two with guns. Some of the poor captives
+looked terribly emaciated, and could hardly
+get along. I saw one woman get a slash of a
+hippo hide whip across the face, that sent her
+reeling to the ground, with a great gash on her
+forehead. The incident stopped the whole
+column for a few minutes, as the woman was
+fastened to her fellow-prisoners by the neck,
+and, when she fell, prevented them from advancing.
+The whip was then applied freely in all
+directions. The chief of the band ordered the
+wounded woman’s squirming comrades to pick
+her up and carry her, but they were unable to
+do so, being too utterly worn out, I could see.
+They were coated in dust from head to foot,
+and the perspiration trickling down their naked
+skins and mingling with the dust made the
+poor things appear a sorry sight. The band
+had, apparently, captured them at some far-distant
+spot, and must have brought them along
+at a great pace, judging by the rate they were
+going when they overtook us.</p>
+
+<p>Furious at their inability to pick the woman
+up, the ruffian in command raised his spear
+and plunged it three times into the body of the
+prostrate woman. He followed this up by
+actually trampling her under his horse’s feet,
+while I groaned in an agony of horror and
+impotent rage at the ghastly spectacle.</p>
+
+<p>The brute, having satisfied himself that his
+victim was dead, cut the grass rope that bound
+her to her fellows with a slash of his sword, and
+ordered the party to proceed. They left us at
+a quick walk&mdash;some of the poor captives even
+running in their terror&mdash;and were soon out of
+sight over a rise in the ground. Our party
+followed at a slower pace in dead silence, leaving
+the poor mangled thing by the roadside to
+provide a meal for the vultures and hyenas that
+would soon be on the scene. I for one, however,
+realized then that no wild beast of the desert
+could compare for utter brutality and lust for
+blood with the human satyrs who overran that
+land at the time of which I write. For miles
+around, between Kontogora and the Niger, and
+farther afield to the north, south, and east, the
+smoking ruins of raided villages told the ever-repeated
+tale of death and violence, robbery
+and rapine, and I knew full well what would
+happen to me should my disguise, by any
+mischance, be penetrated.</p>
+
+<p>About five miles outside Kontogora our
+caravan was stopped by some horsemen who
+came galloping towards us and drew up across
+our path. They had a long parley with our
+chiefs before allowing us to proceed, and only
+did so on payment of a toll. These men were
+scouts, and I found out later that the whole
+country for five miles around the city was
+effectually patrolled, no one being allowed to
+enter or leave without permission. When we
+finally arrived outside the walls of Kontogora it
+was night, and in the moonlight the scene was
+beautiful and striking. The high castellated
+ramparts, with watch-towers over the gates, looked
+strange and fantastic in the soft, mysterious light.</p>
+
+<p>As we approached the gate we mingled with
+the members of another caravan. Mama and I
+were at the tail of the line, about five or six
+from the end. We chose this position to minimize
+the possibility of trouble, although there
+really seemed little chance of that in such a
+deceptive light. Still, there was just the chance,
+as we soon found out when the head of the
+caravan reached the gate. Here it was abruptly
+ordered to halt, and the guards held quite a
+long palaver before it was allowed to proceed.
+At the same time a little incident occurred that
+made my blood run cold for a few minutes.
+There was a cry of “Abokai! Abokai! Kai!”
+(“Friends! Friends! Halloa, there!”) from
+the gate, and the whole column was soon calling
+“Aboki! Aboki!” (“Friend! Friend!”)&mdash;the
+Haussa manner of hailing anybody.
+They were shouting, it soon appeared, for
+myself and Mama, and we were speedily
+hustled forward by our companions. When
+we reached the gate our employer, the fat
+lady merchant who had engaged us, indicated
+us to the guards with a haughty wave of the
+hand. We could see a crowd of mounted and
+unmounted men in the darkness of the gateway,
+and one among these, who seemed gigantic in
+the moonlight as he rode forward on a horse
+equally gigantic, curveted up to us. Striking
+my turban from off my head with the tip of
+his spear, he loudly asked for our names. I
+answered that we were two poor travellers from
+Illorin, come to offer our services to the Emir.
+He asked us where our belongings were and the
+money that our master had paid us at Illorin.
+I told him that the white man had met us on
+the road and taken everything, as we were
+friends of Kontogora. At this the captain of
+the gate gave vent to some extremely sulphurous
+language. Then, with a slight movement of the
+reins, he caused his horse to rear up on his
+hind legs and, with pawing fore-feet, to burst
+furiously through the crowd of coolies round
+about us, trampling one or two badly. Finally,
+the caravan was allowed to move on under the
+gate into the town. As we entered, the <i>mallams</i>
+(priests) were calling to prayer, and the long-drawn
+cry, like an appeal for mercy, floated
+through the night, striking on the air with that
+strange, indefinable sense of mysticism that
+belongs to the East alone.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_398">398</span></p>
+
+<p>We wound in and out, out and in, through
+the moonlit streets with their black shadows,
+their mud walls, and conical, thatch-roofed
+houses. Then we emerged into the market-place,
+near which our employer resided. Entering
+her compound, we put down our loads,
+and, seating ourselves, awaited our wages.
+Mama and I were the first to be paid. We were
+handed one string apiece of cowrie shells&mdash;equivalent
+to one shilling each, at that time
+and place. We haggled over this like true-born
+carriers for fully half an hour, and, as the fat
+lady’s head slave refused to budge, accepted
+what we got with a blessing&mdash;and promptly
+received another five hundred cowries for our
+good nature. The Haussa will often do this,
+for, as much as he fears a curse, by so much
+does he value a blessing. A great many rogues
+take advantage of this trait in the native character.</p>
+
+<p>Having been paid off, Mama and I left the
+compound rejoicing. Here we were, in the very
+heart of Kontogora&mdash;scatheless! We wandered
+into the market-place, where some people were
+still loitering, and decided to sleep in one of the
+stalls and begin our investigations in the morning.</p>
+
+<p>It was many hours before I got to sleep, as
+my feet ached fearfully and were badly torn and
+blistered. During the march I had alternately
+gone barefoot and in sandals to rest them, and
+at times I got badly knocked about when carrying
+the leathers in my hand. Several times
+during the night bands of young Haussas passed
+through the market-place, shouting and laughing,
+boasting what they were going to do to the
+Turawa (white man).</p>
+
+<p>Four batches of labourers passed through
+also, between the time we retired and dawn,
+dragging dead horses out of the town. Tom-toms
+were going all the night; at times the
+whole air quivered with the rhythmical sounds.
+The quaint tinkling of the Haussa guitar rose
+and fell at intervals, and from time to time the
+weird notes of the “ghoghie,” or native fiddle,
+could be heard from the compounds. A spirit
+of excitement and revel seemed to pervade the
+whole town.</p>
+
+<p>Next morning we loitered about until the
+market began to fill, when we bought some
+food. We then repaired to the Galadima’s
+residence, and enlisted in the army of labourers
+that were employed in repairing the walls of the
+town. Many of these labourers were slaves,
+sent by the various chiefs and big men; others
+belonged to the Emir himself. About four
+hundred of us were dispatched to the north
+wall. Here some made bricks out of the soft
+clay; others, including myself, stood on the
+wall and laid them, and yet others passed those
+already dried up to us on the wall.</p>
+
+<p>While working in this way I gathered a lot of
+information. Raiding parties had been out all
+the week, I learned, and spies and runners
+from Zaria brought in news every day concerning
+the movements of the white men in
+that city. Bands of armed men were continually
+bringing in slaves from the ruined
+villages in the surrounding country. It was
+said that N’gaski and Kontogora would join
+forces, attack the whites in Zaria, and drive
+them out. Dandugnsu and Ridjion, neighbouring
+towns, had promised their support in
+the campaign. I also learnt that orders had
+come in from the Sultan of Sokoto that the
+Emir was not to commence a war against the
+white man, but to remain on the defensive.
+The Emir of Kontogora had replied that he was
+quite prepared to meet all comers, from whatever
+direction&mdash;a pretty broad hint to Sokoto, I
+thought. One fellow laying bricks told Mama
+that the man who killed Lieutenant Thomson
+at Bida, in the late Niger Sudan campaign
+undertaken by the Chartered Company against
+the Fulehs of Bida and Illorin, was now in the
+town and was considered a very great hero.</p>
+
+<p>About midday an order came for some twenty
+men to repair to the Emir’s compound. I was
+chosen as one of the gang, together with Mama.
+So off we marched. When we arrived we found
+that a horse and a cow had died, and were to
+be dragged out of the town and thrown into the
+moat under the walls. Tying up the hind legs
+with grass rope, we hauled the carcasses through
+the streets and out by one of the gates and
+dumped them into the ditch. Having finished
+our unpleasant task, we trudged back to the
+north wall and recommenced laying bricks.</p>
+
+<p>One swaggering youngster had annoyed me
+very much all the morning. He was an overseer
+amongst the men, and apparently one
+of the wealthy young bloods of the town.
+Shortly after my return from removing the dead
+horse this youth strutted up to me and started
+cursing me roundly in Haussa, saying that I
+was more like a woman than a man and that
+my work was no good. Finally, raising his
+hand, he struck me in the mouth. Forgetting
+myself completely for the moment, I stepped up
+to the fellow, who promptly drew his sword.
+Without any trouble I disarmed him; then,
+catching him by the neck, I shook him like a
+rat and dropped him into the ditch on the far
+side of the wall.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment there was dead silence; next a
+chorus of applause and laughter broke out.
+But Mama plucked me by the sleeve. “Go,”
+he said, in a low tone; “I will meet you to-night,
+an hour after sundown, at the place we
+slept in last night.”
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_399">399</span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i086.jpg">
+<img src="images/i086.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">“I SHOOK HIM LIKE A RAT AND DROPPED HIM INTO THE DITCH.”</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Divining my danger, I slipped away and
+mingled with the crowd, nobody venturing to
+interfere. I passed down some side streets that
+zigzagged about confusingly, wandered in the
+outskirts of the town for an hour or more, and
+then made my way to the market-place, which
+I found swarming with people.</p>
+
+<p>Buying some boiled guinea-corn, I sat down
+outside a stall and munched my lunch. The
+woman who sold me the food was a garrulous old
+person, but perfectly good-natured. She asked
+me all about myself, and I told her that
+I had come from Zaria, where I had fled
+through fear of the white men. She informed
+me that I had nothing to fear from them;
+were it not for their guns they would be quite
+harmless. Then I asked her when it was that
+Kontogora intended setting out to drive the
+Turawa from Zaria. “Go round the blacksmiths’
+shops and inquire at the smithies,” was all the
+answer I could get. I thought the idea a good
+one, and, bidding my new friend “Good day,”
+I sauntered through the crowded market-place,
+stopping at various booths. In one of these
+some blacksmiths were hard at work, making
+arrow and spear heads from bits of iron and tin.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_400">400</span>
+As I stood looking at them I gathered, from the
+conversation that was going on around, that some
+of the Emir’s sons were expected to arrive in
+Kontogora that day, and that they were bringing
+some of the white men’s guns with them that were
+taken at Hella, when Lieutenant Keating’s party
+was massacred. Here was a bit of news worth
+having! The conversation turning on matters
+that did not interest me, I strolled on until I
+arrived at the head blacksmith’s shop, near the
+Emir’s compound, where I watched the hammers
+pounding the red-hot metal. I could see that
+the whole town was busy making arms, which
+boded ill for the whites.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly I heard a shout of “Gashi! Gashi!”
+(“There he is! There he is!”). Then there was
+a rush of feet, and a flash of swords in upraised
+arms. Evidently my pursuers had found me
+out. I backed into the blacksmith’s shop,
+followed by a yelling crowd, and caught a
+momentary glimpse of my tormentor of the
+morning. Then, without warning, something
+was thrown over my head, and I was dragged
+violently backwards, flung to the ground, and
+stunned by a succession of heavy blows.</p>
+
+<p>When I came to my senses I found myself
+being hauled unceremoniously to my feet, my
+arms bound firmly. In this ignominious state I
+was dragged amid curses and cuffs through the
+town, a yelling crowd of bloodthirsty ruffians
+surrounding me. They hauled me through a
+doorway into a compound surrounded with high
+walls, on into a big building, through many
+rooms and passages, and ultimately down some
+rough steps into a filthy, stinking dungeon,
+reeking of mould and damp. Here, with a
+violent push, I was flung headlong to the
+bottom, where I lay helpless in absolute
+darkness.</p>
+
+<p>The air was damp and chill, and the place
+was infested with all manner of loathsome
+crawling things; I could hear them tick-ticking
+and scuffling along the floor and walls. Shortly
+after my entry some filthy thing touched my
+fingers, and I shook it off with a yell. It was
+a dread place, and drove all hope of saving my
+life clean out of me.</p>
+
+<p>How long I lay there I do not know; it was
+long enough, at any rate, for a sharp attack
+of fever to seize me and run its course. It
+racked my bones; I tossed and turned on the
+slimy floor, groaning aloud in my discomfort.
+The hot fever-blood throbbed in my head;
+my eyes and face burned, and my body became
+parched and dry. I moaned for water&mdash;oh,
+for one drop of cool water! At one time I
+thought I saw the door open and Mama enter
+and loose my bonds, but it was only a vision
+of my disordered brain. Finally I sank into
+unconsciousness. I awoke&mdash;drenched in a profuse
+perspiration&mdash;with men’s voices sounding
+round about me. A figure was standing over me
+holding a lamp&mdash;an earthenware, ewer-shaped
+vessel with a cotton dip&mdash;which gave a wavering
+yellow radiance and cast grim dancing shadows
+on the walls. I could see that the door was ajar,
+and a pale light was stealing into the horrible
+place from outside. Roughly I was dragged
+to my feet. I staggered a bit, but soon steadied
+myself, and&mdash;pushed, cursed, and beaten&mdash;I
+accompanied my captors up the steps and out
+into the light of day again, or, rather, of evening.
+One glorious breath of the upper air repaid me
+for all that I had suffered in that black hole of
+Kontogora. I did not care now if they were
+leading me out to kill me; I was not going to
+die like a rat in that horrible pit.</p>
+
+<p>As we emerged from the compound we were
+joined by a chattering, mocking, hostile crowd
+of men, women, and children. Every now and
+then one of the latter would strike me with a
+stick, my guards making no effort to protect me.
+At last we entered the Emir’s compound and I
+was taken into his presence. He was seated on
+a dais covered with mats and a leopard skin,
+and was talking in a low monotone to some men
+lying round about him on the floor of the
+chamber.</p>
+
+<p>The young blood that I had flung over the
+wall, and who was the cause of all my troubles,
+stepped out and told the King what I had done,
+asking leave to kill me then and there. Next,
+to my astonishment, Mama stepped out of the
+crowd and told the Emir plainly that he and I
+had come all the way from Illorin to serve him,
+and had intended craving his permission that
+morning had not my tormentor interfered and
+sought a quarrel with me, in which he had got
+thrown over the wall for his pains. Subsequently,
+through treachery, continued my faithful
+guide, my enemy had had me taken and
+flung into prison without the Emir’s knowledge.</p>
+
+<p>The Emir, who seemed a decent sort of old
+man, listened patiently to his two petitioners.
+Then, advising my enemy to calm himself, he
+told one of his retainers to question me. I
+thanked Heaven that the simpleness of my disguise
+and my grip of the Haussa tongue precluded
+any very great possibility of detection.
+The Emir, before my questioner started, informed
+the assembled crowd that, were I proved
+to be a rebel and a traitor, he would hand me
+over to my enemy to do what he wished with.</p>
+
+<p>My inquisitor was a type of the grovelling
+bully. He tried to put one or two posers to
+me, but got more than he expected in return;
+and I actually got a smile out of the Emir,
+which elicited the loud and flattering applause
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_401">401</span>
+of the retainers, when I suggested that my questioner
+was behaving very like a traitor himself
+in trying to cast a slur on the character of one
+of the Emir’s most faithful subjects. I told that
+monarch that I had come all the way from
+Illorin to serve him, and this was the way I was
+being treated&mdash;dragged, beaten and bleeding,
+before him from a dungeon, and bound like a
+common slave. Suddenly the Emir asked me
+how many white men there were in Borgu; I
+told him about one hundred thousand, and more
+to come. He seemed greatly impressed, as well
+he might be. I then craved permission to enter
+his service, and he inquired if I could ride. I
+told him to try me. This he agreed to do. If
+I could ride and prove myself worthy of entering
+his service he said he would pardon my
+imprudence of yesterday and make me a
+member of his bodyguard.</p>
+
+<p>My bonds were cut, and as these fell from me
+the pain of the blood returning to my swollen,
+half-numbed hands was excruciating. I managed,
+however, to keep a brave face. We retired from
+the Emir’s presence and waited outside under a
+great shady tree, where, eventually, a fiercely-pawing
+stallion was brought up, and I was
+ordered to mount. This I did, the brute biting,
+kicking, and plunging all the time. I had to
+get into one of those horrible native saddles that
+box you up completely, fore and aft. Once
+mounted, I let the horse do as he pleased, and
+he led me a terrible dance, rearing and plunging
+about, dashing first to one side and then
+another. As he was in the midst of his attempts
+to buck me off, the Emir appeared and stood
+watching the tussle with interest. As a matter
+of fact, the horse had not much chance when
+once I was on his back, for I had had a great
+deal of experience of the Haussa beast, and
+knew his ways. He soon grew tired, and within
+half an hour was quite submissive. I used no
+stick, but just sat quietly in the saddle. To my
+surprise and delight the Emir told me that the
+horse was mine, and that I was to come to see
+him on the morrow, about noon. I thanked
+him gratefully and rode off, Mama walking by
+my stirrup.</p>
+
+<p>After a consultation we agreed that it would
+be dangerous to remain in the town any longer,
+as our enemies were bound to try to get the
+better of us, sooner or later. We therefore
+arranged that Mama should leave the town at
+once, and make for Boussa as best he could, on
+foot; I would leave that night. We then parted,
+and I was left alone in the midst of the enemy.</p>
+
+<p>At sundown I rode through the south gate,
+but was immediately stopped by the guard. I
+told them that I came by order of the Emir, but
+they demanded proof. This was distinctly
+awkward, for, of course, I had no proof to
+give. I therefore resolved upon a bold stroke.
+I requested the chief to ride with me, telling
+him I would give him in confidence all the
+proof he would require. Unsuspectingly he
+rode up alongside. Leaning over towards him,
+I suddenly gripped him by the throat with both
+hands, at the same time ramming my heels into
+my horse’s sides. The startled animal leapt
+forward, wrenching my opponent from the
+saddle with a jerk, and I swung him across my
+horse’s withers, where I held him&mdash;my right
+hand on his throat, my left gripping his left
+knee, bending him backwards like a bow. In
+this fashion we flew along the path by which
+two days before I had entered the robber city
+on foot.</p>
+
+<p>A howl of execration and a clatter of hoofs
+followed us, and a shower of arrows and spears
+fell harmlessly on either side of me. When we
+had gone about a quarter of a mile I slid my
+hapless prisoner off on to his head, intending to
+stun him. My horse, feeling the relief, went
+away at renewed speed, and I had no difficulty
+in outdistancing my pursuers, especially as they
+stopped to see to their unconscious chief. I
+met one party of traders coming into the town,
+but they stood aside to let me thunder past, not
+doubting that I was an emissary of the Emir
+on some urgent business. The moon was just
+rising as I topped a low ridge, and all the world
+was soon bathed in a soft and silvery veil of
+light. Kontogora was far behind in the plain,
+the thousand conical roofs away in the distance
+looking strangely unreal.</p>
+
+<p>As I drew near the five mile radius I began
+to wonder how I was going to get through the
+line of scouts. Capture now would mean death
+in some horrible form or other; at all costs I
+must not be taken alive. Suddenly I heard a
+shout far away on my right, and in the dim light
+saw a body of horsemen coming my way.
+Touching my mount with my heels I again gave
+him his head, and he flew like the wind, with
+ever-increasing speed. The pace was terrific
+and absolutely foolhardy in that light, although
+the road was fairly good. I expected every
+moment to be pitched head foremost to the
+ground, but the surefooted beast kept on without
+a stumble. The shouts and thunder of
+hoofs behind grew fainter and fainter, until at
+last, to my infinite relief, they entirely died
+away. Still, however, I kept on. Here and
+there, when the road passed through a village
+or beside a farm, frightened figures would slink
+away into the shadows and a startled cur would
+burst into a violent fit of barking, as I clattered
+by on my panting steed, now reeking and white
+with sweat.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_402">402</span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i089a.jpg">
+<img src="images/i089a.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">“IN THIS FASHION WE FLEW ALONG THE PATH.”</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>I rode fast all through the night, my horse
+showing splendid spirit and pluck, and at sunrise
+halted on the banks of a river. Leaving
+my hard-ridden beast to cool a little first, I then
+watered him and, cutting some guinea-corn
+stalks from a patch near by, gave him a good
+feed, munching some myself at the same time
+and quenching my thirst at the river. Then,
+after about two hours’ rest, I proceeded, but at
+a lesser speed.</p>
+
+<p>I rode all that day and well into the night,
+finally resting by the pool where I had cooled
+my heated brow on the way to Kontogora.
+After some hours’ halt I pushed on again,
+obtaining food at farmhouses on the way, and
+next evening, utterly weary, arrived at the Niger
+opposite Boussa. My journey was over; I was
+safe at last! Arriving at my quarters in the
+Niger Company’s compound, I flung myself
+down on my camp bed just as I was and slept
+for sixteen hours.</p>
+
+<p>The faithful Mama turned up four days later.
+He went to Yauri, a friendly State, coming down
+river by canoe. For his services I presented
+him with the Emir of Kontogora’s horse.</p>
+
+<p>During all the years that have gone by since
+my secret trip to Kontogora and my subsequent
+escape I have never regretted having run the
+double risk of disobeying orders on the one
+hand and risking my life on the other. I
+had been instructed to get news and I got
+it&mdash;not the idle tales of paid spies, but a record
+of sights seen and things heard with my own
+eyes and ears.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i089b.jpg">
+<img src="images/i089b.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+</div>
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_403">403</span></p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<h2 id="A_Voyage_on_an_Ice-Floe"><i>A Voyage on an Ice-Floe.</i><br />
+
+<span class="smcap medium">By Dr. Wilfred T. Grenfell</span>, C.M.G.</h2>
+
+<blockquote>
+
+<p>Dr. Grenfell may be described as the “Good Angel of Labrador,” having for years devoted himself to
+ministering to the hardy toilers who live in that grim land of snow, ice, and fog. In this enthralling
+story he describes how, while on an errand of mercy, he and his dog-team got adrift in the open
+sea on a tiny cake of ice; how he killed three of the dogs to provide himself with warm clothing; how
+he made a flagstaff out of their bones; and how he was finally rescued when hope was well-nigh dead.</p></blockquote>
+
+<div>
+<img class="drop-cap" src="images/i.jpg" alt="I" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">It</span> was Easter Sunday, but still
+winter with us, and everything was
+covered with snow and ice. Immediately
+after morning service word
+came from our hospital to say that
+messengers with a large team of dogs had
+come from sixty miles to the southward to
+get a doctor for a very urgent case&mdash;that of a
+young man on whom we had operated about
+a fortnight before for an acute bone disease
+in the thigh.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i090.jpg">
+<img src="images/i090.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">THE AUTHOR, DR. WILFRED T. GRENFELL, C.M.G.<br />
+<i>From a Photo. by De Youngs, New York.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>There was obviously no
+time to be lost, so, having
+packed up the necessary instruments,
+dressings, and
+drugs, and fitted out the sleigh
+with my best dogs, I left at
+once, the messengers following
+me with their own team.</p>
+
+<p>Late in April there is
+always a risk of getting wet
+through on the ice, so that I
+was prepared with a spare
+outfit, which included, besides
+a change of garments, snow-shoes,
+rifle, compass, an axe,
+and oilskin over clothes.</p>
+
+<p>My dogs, being a powerful
+team, would not be held back,
+and though I managed to
+wait twice for the other
+sleigh I had reached a
+village about twenty miles
+on the journey before nightfall,
+had fed the dogs, and
+was gathering one or two
+people for prayers, when they caught me up.</p>
+
+<p>During the night the wind shifted to the
+north-east. This brought in fog and rain,
+softened the snow, and made travelling very
+bad, besides sending a heavy sea into the bay.
+Our drive next morning would be somewhat
+over forty miles&mdash;the first ten miles across a
+wide arm of the sea, on salt-water ice.</p>
+
+<p>In order not to be separated too long from
+my friends, I sent them ahead two hours before
+me, appointing a rendezvous at a log shanty we
+had built in the woods for a half-way house.
+There is no one living along all that lengthy
+coast-line, and so, in case of accident, we keep
+dry clothes, food, and drugs at the hut.</p>
+
+<p>The first rain of the year was falling when I
+left, and I was obliged to keep on what we call
+the “ballicaters,” or ice barricades, much farther
+up the bay than I had expected. The sea of
+the night before had smashed up the ponderous
+covering of ice right to the land-wash, and great
+gaping chasms between the
+enormous blocks, which we
+call “pans,” made it impossible
+to get off. As soon as
+I topped the first hill outside
+the village I could see
+that half a mile out it was all
+clear water.</p>
+
+<p>An island which lies off
+about three miles in the bay
+had preserved a bridge of
+ice, however, and by crossing
+a few cracks I managed to
+reach this island. The arm
+of the bay beyond this point
+is only about four miles
+straight across. This would
+bring me to a rocky promontory
+and would save
+some miles on the round. As
+far as the eye could see the
+ice seemed good, though it
+was very rough. Obviously
+it had been smashed up by
+the sea, and packed in again
+by the strong wind from the
+north-east, but I judged it had frozen solid
+together again.</p>
+
+<p>I set off to cross this stretch, and all went
+well till I was about a quarter of a mile from the
+landing-point. Then the wind suddenly fell,
+and I noticed I was travelling over loose “sish”
+ice, almost of the consistency of porridge; by
+stabbing down, I could drive my whip-handle
+clean through it. This “sish” ice consists
+of the tiny fragments made by large pans
+pounding together on the heaving sea.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_404">404</span></p>
+
+<p>So strongly did the breeze now come off-shore,
+and so quickly did the packed mass, relieved of
+the wind pressure, begin to scatter, that already
+I could not see one floe larger than ten feet
+square. I realized at once that retreat was
+absolutely impossible; the only thing to be done
+was to make a dash for it and try to reach the
+shore.</p>
+
+<p>There was not a moment to lose, so I tore
+off my oilskins, threw myself out on my hands
+and knees by the side of the <i>komatik</i> to give a
+larger base to hold, and shouted to the dogs to
+go ahead.</p>
+
+<p>Before we had gone twenty yards, the animals,
+divining their peril, hesitated for a moment, and
+the <i>komatik</i> instantly sank into the slush. It
+then became necessary for the dogs to pull, and
+they promptly began to sink in also. Earlier
+in the season the father of the very man I was
+going to operate on had been drowned by his
+dogs tangling their traces around him in the
+“slob.” This unpleasant fact now flashed into
+my mind, and I managed to loosen my sheath-knife,
+scramble forward, find the traces in the
+water, and cut them, meanwhile taking a turn
+with the leader’s trace around my wrist.</p>
+
+<p>There was a pan of ice some twenty-five
+yards away, about the size of a dining-table, and
+on to this the leader very shortly climbed.
+The other dogs, however, were hopelessly
+bogged in the slushy ice and water.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i091.jpg">
+<img src="images/i091.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">“ONE OF THE DOGS GOT ON TO MY SHOULDERS, PUSHING ME
+FARTHER DOWN IN THE ICE.”</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Gradually I hauled myself along the leader’s
+line towards the pan, till he suddenly turned
+round and slipped out of his harness. It was
+impossible to make any progress through the
+“sish” ice by swimming, so I lay there helplessly,
+thinking it would soon be over, and
+wondering if anyone would ever know how the
+tragedy happened. Suddenly I saw the trace of
+another big dog, who had himself fallen through
+just before he reached the pan. Along this I
+hauled myself, using the animal as a bow anchor,
+but much bothered by the other dogs, one of
+which, in his struggle for life, got on to my
+shoulders, pushing me farther down in the ice.
+Presently, however, I passed my living anchor,
+and soon, with my dogs around me, I lay on the
+little piece of ice. I had to help the dogs on to
+it, though they were able to work their way to
+me through the lane of water that I had
+made.</p>
+
+<p>We were safe for the moment, yet it
+was obvious that we must be drowned
+before long if we remained on this
+little fragment, so, taking off my
+moccasins, coat, gloves, and cap, and
+everything that I could spare, I tied my knife
+and moccasins separately on to the backs of
+the dogs. My only hope of life seemed to be to
+get ashore at once. Had I been able to divine
+the long drift before me, I might have saved, in
+the same way as I saved my knife, a small bag
+of food. The moccasins, made of tanned sealskin,
+came right up to my thigh, and, as they
+were filled with water, I thought they accounted
+for my being able to make no progress.</p>
+
+<p>Taking the long traces from all the dogs but
+the two lightest, I gave them the full length of
+the lines, tied the near ends around my own
+wrists, and tried to make the animals go ahead.
+Nothing would induce them to move, however,
+and though I threw them off the pan two or
+three times, they always struggled back on to it.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_405">405</span>
+Fortunately, I had with me a small black
+spaniel, a featherweight, with large furry paws,
+something like snow-shoes, who will retrieve for
+me. I threw a piece of ice for him, and he
+managed to get over the “slob” after it, on to
+another pan about twenty yards away. The
+other dogs followed him and after much painful
+struggling all of them got on but one.</p>
+
+<p>Taking all the run I could get on my little
+pan, I made a rush, slithering with the impetus
+along the surface till once more I sank through.
+After a tough fight I was able to haul myself
+by the long traces on to this new pan. I had
+taken care this time to tie the harnesses, to
+which I was holding, under the dogs’ bellies, so
+that they could not slip them off. But the pan
+I was now on was still not enough to bear us,
+and so this exhausting process had to be
+repeated immediately to avoid sinking with it.</p>
+
+<p>I now realized, much to my dismay, that
+though we had been working towards the land
+we had been losing ground all the time, for the
+off-shore wind had now driven us a hundred
+yards farther out. The widening gap was full
+of pounded ice, which rose to the surface as the
+pressure lessened. Through this no man could
+possibly make his way.</p>
+
+<p>I was now resting on a floe about ten feet by
+twenty, which, when I came to examine it, was
+not ice at all, but simply snow-covered “slob,”
+frozen into a mass, and which I feared would
+very soon break up in the general turmoil and
+the heavy sea, which was continually increasing
+as the ice drove offshore before the wind.</p>
+
+<p>At first we drifted in the direction of a rocky
+point on which a heavy surf was breaking, and I
+made up my mind, if there was clear water in
+the surf, to try to swim for the land. But
+suddenly we struck a rock, a large piece broke
+off the already small pan, and what was left
+swung around in the backwash and went right
+off to sea. I saw then that my pan was
+about a foot thick.</p>
+
+<p>There was nothing now for it but to hope for
+rescue. Alas! there was no possibility of
+being seen by human eyes. As I have already
+mentioned, no one lives round this big bay. It
+was just possible, however, that the people on
+the other <i>komatik</i>, knowing I was alone and had
+failed to keep my tryst, would, perhaps, come
+back to look for me. This, however, they
+did not do.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the westerly wind&mdash;our coldest
+wind at this time of the year&mdash;was rising rapidly.
+It was very tantalizing, as I stood there with
+next to nothing on, the wind going through me,
+and every stitch soaked in ice-water, to see my
+<i>komatik</i> some fifty yards away. It was still
+above water, packed with food, hot tea in a
+Thermos bottle, dry clothing, matches, wood,
+and everything for making a fire to attract
+attention, if I should drive out far enough for
+someone to see me&mdash;and yet it was quite beyond
+my reach.</p>
+
+<p>It is easy to see a black object on the ice in
+the day-time, for its gorgeous whiteness shows
+off the least thing. But, alas! the tops of
+bushes and large pieces of kelp have so often
+deceived those looking out that the watcher
+hesitates a long time before he takes action.
+Moreover, within our memory no man has ever
+been thus adrift on the bay ice. The chances
+were one in a thousand that I would be seen at
+all, and, even if I were, I should probably be
+mistaken for a fragment of driftwood or kelp.</p>
+
+<p>To keep from freezing I took my long
+moccasins, strung out some line, split the legs,
+and made a kind of jacket, which preserved my
+back from the wind down as far as the waist.</p>
+
+<p>I had not drifted more than half a mile before
+I saw my poor <i>komatik</i> disappear through the
+ice, which was every minute loosening up into
+small pans. The loss of the sledge seemed
+like that of a friend, and one more tie with home
+and safety lost.</p>
+
+<p>By midday I had passed the island and was
+moving out into the ever-widening bay. It was
+scarcely safe to stir on the pan for fear of
+breaking it, and yet I saw I must have the skins
+of some of my dogs&mdash;of which there were eight
+on the pan&mdash;if I was to live the night out.
+There was now from three to five miles of ice
+between me and the north side of the bay, so I
+could plainly see there was no hope of being
+picked up that day, even if seen, for no boat
+could get out.</p>
+
+<p>Unwinding the sealskin traces from my waist,
+around which I had them coiled to keep the
+dogs from eating them, I made a slip-knot and
+passed it over the first dog’s head, tied it round
+my foot close to its neck, threw him on his back,
+and stabbed him to the heart. Poor beast! I
+loved him like a friend, but we could not all
+hope to live. In fact, at that time I had no
+hope that any of us would, but it seemed better
+to die fighting.</p>
+
+<p>In the same way I sacrificed two more large
+dogs, receiving a couple of bites in the process,
+though I fully expected that the pan would
+break up in the struggle. A short shrift seemed
+to me better than a long one, and I envied the
+dead dogs, whose troubles were over so quickly.
+Indeed, I began to debate in my mind whether,
+if once I passed into the open sea, it would not
+be better by far to use my faithful knife on myself
+than to die by inches. There seemed
+no horror whatever in the thought; I seemed
+fully to sympathize with the Japanese view of
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_406">406</span>
+<i>hara-kiri</i>. Working, however, saved me from
+dangerous philosophizing. By the time I had
+skinned the dogs and strung the skins together
+with some rope unravelled from the harnesses I
+was ten miles on my way and it was already
+getting dark.</p>
+
+<p>Away to the northward I could now see a
+single light in the little village where I had slept
+the night before. One could not help picturing
+them sitting down to tea, little thinking that
+there was anyone watching them, for I had told
+them not to expect me back for four days. I
+could also see the peaceful little school-house on
+the hill, where many times I had gathered the
+people for prayer.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i093.jpg">
+<img src="images/i093.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">THE AUTHOR’S DOG TEAM.<br />
+<i>From a Photograph.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>I had now frayed out some rope into oakum
+and mixed it with some fat from the intestines
+of my dogs, with the idea of making a flare.
+But I discovered that my match-box, which was
+always chained to me, had leaked, and my
+precious matches were in pulp. Had I been
+able to make a light, it would have looked so
+unearthly out there on the ice that I felt sure
+they would have seen me. However, I kept the
+matches, hoping that I might be able to dry
+them if I lived through the night. While working
+at the dead dogs, about every five minutes I
+would stand up and wave my hands towards the
+land. I had no flag and I could not spare my
+shirt, for, wet as it was, it was better than
+nothing in that freezing wind, and, anyhow, it
+was nearly dark.</p>
+
+<p>Unfortunately, the coves in among the cliffs
+are so placed that only for a very narrow
+space can the people in any house see the sea.
+Indeed, most of them cannot see the sea at all,
+so that whether it was possible for anyone to see
+me I could not tell, even supposing it had been
+daylight.</p>
+
+<p>Not daring to take any snow from the surface
+of my pan to break the wind with, I piled up the
+carcasses of the dogs. Moreover, I could now
+sit down on the skin rug without finding myself
+in a pool of water, thawed out by my own heat.
+During these hours I had continually taken off
+all my things, wrung them out, swung them in
+the wind, and put on first one and then the other
+inside, hoping that what heat there was in my
+body would thus serve to dry them. In this I
+had been fairly successful.</p>
+
+<p>My feet were the most trouble, for they immediately
+got wet again on account of my thin
+moccasins being easily soaked through on the
+snow. I suddenly thought of the way in which
+the Lapps, who tend our reindeer, manage to
+dry socks. They carry grass with them, which
+they ravel up and put into the shoe. Into this
+they put their feet, and then pack the rest with
+more grass, tying up the top with a binder. The
+ropes of the harness for our dogs are carefully
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_407">407</span>
+“served” all over with two layers of flannel, in
+order to make them soft against the animal’s
+sides. So, as soon as I could sit down, I started
+with my trusty knife to rip up the flannel.
+Though my fingers were more or less frozen, I
+was able to ravel out the rope, put it into my
+shoes, and use my wet socks inside my knicker-bockers,
+where, though damp, they served to
+break the wind. Then, tying the narrow strips
+of flannel together, I bound up the tops of the
+moccasins, Lapp fashion, and carried the bandage
+on up over my knee, making a ragged
+though most excellent puttee.</p>
+
+<p>In order to run easily and fast with our dogs
+in the spring of the year, when the weather is
+usually warm, we wear very light clothing; thus
+we do not perspire at midday and freeze at
+night. It chanced that I had recently opened
+a box of football garments which I had not seen
+for twenty years. I had found my old Oxford
+University running “shorts,” and a pair of
+Richmond Football Club stockings of red,
+yellow, and black, exactly as I wore them twenty
+years ago. These, with a flannel shirt and
+sweater, were all I now had left. Coat, hat,
+gloves, oilskins&mdash;everything else&mdash;were gone, and
+I stood there in that odd costume exactly as I
+stood in the old days on a football field. These
+garments, being very light, dried all the quicker
+until afternoon; then nothing would dry any
+more, everything freezing stiff.</p>
+
+<p>My occupation till what seemed like midnight
+was unravelling rope, and with this I padded
+out my knickers inside and my shirt as well,
+though it was a clumsy job, for I could not see
+what I was doing. Now, getting my largest dog,
+as big as a wolf and weighing ninety-two pounds,
+I made him lie down in order that I could
+cuddle around him. I then piled the three
+skins so that I could lie on one edge, while the
+other came just over my shoulders and head.</p>
+
+<p>My own breath, collecting inside the newly-flayed
+skin, must have had a soporific effect, for
+I was soon fast asleep. One hand I had
+plunged down inside the curled-up dog, but the
+other hand, being gloveless, had frozen, and I
+suddenly woke, shivering enough, I thought, to
+break my pan. What I took to be the sun
+was just rising, but I soon found it was the
+moon, and then I knew it was about half past
+twelve. The dog was having an excellent time;
+he had not been cuddled up so warmly all the
+winter. He resented my moving with low
+growls, till he found it wasn’t another dog.</p>
+
+<p>The wind was steadily driving me now towards
+the open sea, where, short of a miracle, I could
+expect nothing but death.</p>
+
+<p>Still I had only this hope&mdash;that my pan would
+probably be opposite another village, called
+Goose Cove, at daylight, and might possibly be
+seen from there. I knew that the <i>komatiks</i>
+would be starting at daybreak over the hills for
+a parade of Orangemen about twenty miles away.
+I might, therefore, be seen as they climbed the
+hills, though the cove does not open seaward.
+So I lay down and went to sleep again.</p>
+
+<p>I woke some time later with a sudden thought
+in my mind that I must have a flag to signal
+with. So I set to work at once in the dark to
+disarticulate the legs of my dead dogs, which
+were now frozen stiff, and seemed to offer the
+only chance of forming a pole to carry a flag.</p>
+
+<p>Cold as it was, I determined to sacrifice my
+shirt for that purpose with the first streak of
+daylight. It took a long time in the dark to get
+the legs off, and when I had patiently marled
+them together with old harness rope they formed
+the heaviest and crookedest flag-post it has ever
+been my lot to see. Still it had the advantage
+of not being so cold to hold, because the skin on
+the paws made it unnecessary to hold the frozen
+meat with my bare hands.</p>
+
+<p>What had awakened me this time, I found,
+was that the pan had swung around and the
+shelter made by my dogs’ bodies was on the
+wrong side, for, though there was a very light air,
+the evaporation it caused from my wet clothes
+made quite a difference. I had had no food
+since six o’clock the morning before, when I had
+porridge and bread and butter. I had, however,
+a rubber band on instead of one of my garters,
+and I chewed that for twenty-four hours. It
+saved me from thirst and hunger, oddly enough.
+I did not drink from the ice of my pan,
+for it was salt-water snow and ice. Moreover,
+in the night the salt water had lapped up over
+the edges, for the pan was on a level with the
+sea. From time to time I heard the cracking
+and grinding of the newly formed “slob,” and it
+seemed that my little floe must inevitably soon
+go to pieces.</p>
+
+<p>At last the sun really did rise, and the time
+came for the sacrifice of my shirt. I stripped,
+and, much to my surprise and pleasure, did not
+find it was half so cold as I had anticipated.
+I now reformed my dog-skins, with the raw side
+out, so that they made a kind of coat, quite
+rivalling Joseph’s. But with the rising of the
+sun the frost came out of the joints of my dogs’
+legs, and the friction&mdash;caused, I suppose, by
+waving it&mdash;made my flag-pole almost tie itself
+in knots. Still, I could raise it three or four
+feet above my head, which seemed very
+important.</p>
+
+<p>Now, however, I found that, instead of having
+drifted as far as I had reckoned, I was only off
+some cliffs called Ireland Head, near which
+there is a little village looking seaward, whence
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_408">408</span>
+I should certainly have been seen had the time
+been summer. But as I had myself, earlier in
+the season, been night-bound at the place, I had
+learnt there was not a single soul living there
+in the winter. The people had all, as usual,
+migrated to their winter houses up the bay,
+where they get together for schooling and social
+purposes.</p>
+
+<p>It was impossible to wave so heavy a flag as
+mine all the time, and yet I dared not sit down,
+for that might be the exact moment someone
+would be in a position to see me from the hills.
+The only thing in my mind was how long I
+could stand up, and how long go on waving that
+pole at the cliffs. Once or twice I thought I
+saw men against their snowy faces, which I
+judged were about five or six miles from me.
+In reality, however, all the time I knew in my
+heart of hearts that the black specks were only
+trees. Once, also, I thought I saw a boat
+approaching. A glittering object kept appearing
+and disappearing on the water, but it was
+merely a small piece of ice sparkling in the sun
+as it rose on the surface.</p>
+
+<p>Physically I felt as well as ever I did in my
+life, and with the hope of a long sunny day I
+felt sure I was good to last another twenty-four
+hours if my ice-raft would only hold out. I
+determined to kill a big Eskimo dog I had at
+midday and drink his blood (only a few days
+before I had been reading an account of the
+sustaining properties of dogs’ blood in Dr.
+Nansen’s book) if I survived the battle with
+him.</p>
+
+<p>I could not help feeling, even then, my
+ludicrous position, and I thought if I ever got
+ashore again I would have to laugh at myself
+standing hour after hour waving my shirt at
+those lofty cliffs, which seemed to assume a
+kind of sardonic grin, so that I could almost
+imagine they were laughing at me. I thought
+of the good breakfast my colleagues were enjoying
+just at the back of those same cliffs, and of
+the snug fire and comfortable room which we
+call our study.</p>
+
+<p>I can honestly say that from first to last
+not a single sensation of fear entered my mind,
+even when struggling in the “slob” ice. It all
+seemed so natural; I had been through the ice
+half-a-dozen times before. Now I merely felt
+sleepy, and the idea was very strong in my mind
+that I should soon reach the solution of the
+mysteries that I had been preaching about for
+so many years.</p>
+
+<p>It was a perfect morning, a cobalt sky and
+an ultramarine sea, a golden sun, and an
+almost wasteful extravagance of crimson pouring
+over hills of purest snow, which caught
+and reflected its glories from every peak
+and crag. Between me and their feet lay
+miles of rough ice, bordered with the black
+“slob” formed during the night. Lastly,
+there was my poor little pan in the fore-ground,
+bobbing up and down on the edge
+of the open sea, stained with blood, and littered
+with carcasses and <i>d&eacute;bris</i>. It was smaller than
+last night; the edges, beating against the new
+ice around, had heaped themselves up in fragments
+that, owing to its diminutive size, it
+could ill spare. I also noticed that the new ice
+from the water melted under the dogs’ bodies
+had also been formed at the expense of its thickness.
+Five dogs and myself in a coloured football
+costume and a blood-smeared dog-skin cloak,
+with a grey flannel shirt on a pole of frozen dogs’
+legs, completed the picture.</p>
+
+<p>The sun was almost hot by now, and I was
+conscious of a surplus of heat in my skin cloak.
+I began to look longingly at one of my remaining
+dogs, for an appetite will rise even on an
+ice pan. The idea of eating made me think
+of fire, so once again I inspected my matches.
+Alas! the heads had entirely soaked off them
+all, except three or four blue-top wax matches
+which were in a paste. These I now laid out to
+dry, and I searched around on my snow pan to
+see if I could get a bit of transparent ice with
+which to make a burning-glass, for I was pretty
+sure that, with all the unravelled tow stuffed into
+my nether garments and the fat of the dead
+dogs, I could make smoke enough to be seen if
+I could only get a light.</p>
+
+<p>I had found a piece which it seemed might
+answer the purpose, and had gone back to wave
+my flag, which I did every two minutes, when
+suddenly, for the second time, I thought I saw
+the glitter of an oar. It did not seem possible,
+however, for it must be remembered that it was
+not water that lay between me and the land, but
+“slob” ice, which, a mile or two inshore of me,
+was very heavy. Even if people had seen me,
+I did not think they could get through, though I
+knew all of them would be trying. Moreover,
+there was no smoke rising on the land to give
+me hope that I had been seen. There had been
+no gun flashes in the night, and I felt sure that,
+had anyone seen me, there would have been a
+bonfire on every hill to encourage me to keep
+going. So I gave it up and went on with my
+work. But the next time I went back to my
+flag it seemed very distinct, and though it kept
+disappearing as we rose and fell on the surface,
+my readers can well imagine I kept my eyes in
+that direction. Through my dark spectacles
+having been lost, however, I was already partly
+snow-blind.</p>
+
+<p>I waved the flag as high as I could raise it in
+a direction to be broadside towards those places
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_409">409</span>
+where I thought people might have gone out
+around the ice after ducks, which is their main
+occupation a little later in the year. I hoped
+that they might then see my flag and come
+straight on for me. At last, beside the glitter of
+a white oar, I made out the black speck of a
+hull. I knew then if the pan held out for
+another hour that I should be all right.</p>
+
+<p>With that strange perversity of the human
+intellect, the first thing I thought of when I
+realized that a rescue
+boat was under way was
+what trophies I could
+carry with my luggage
+from the pan! I pictured
+the dog-bone flagstaff
+adorning my study&mdash;the
+dogs intervened,
+however, and ate it later
+on&mdash;and I thought of preserving
+my ragged puttees
+in my museum.</p>
+
+<p>I could see that my
+rescuers were frantically
+waving, and when they
+came within shouting
+distance I heard someone
+shout, “Don’t get
+excited; keep on the
+pan, where you are.” As
+a matter of fact, they
+were infinitely more
+excited than I. Already
+it seemed just as natural
+to me now to be saved
+as half an hour before
+it seemed inevitable that
+I should be lost. Had
+my rescuers only known,
+as I did, the sensations
+of a bath in the ice
+when you cannot dry
+yourself afterwards, they
+need not have expected
+me to throw myself into
+the water.</p>
+
+<p>At last the boat came
+up, crashing into my pan
+with such violence that
+I was glad enough to
+catch hold of the bow,
+being more or less
+acquainted by now with the frail constitution
+of my floe, and being well aware it was
+not adapted for collisions. Moreover, I felt for
+the pan, for it had been a good and faithful
+friend to me.</p>
+
+<p>A hearty handshake all round and a warm cup
+of tea&mdash;thoughtfully packed in a kettle&mdash;inside,
+and we hoisted in my remaining dogs and
+instantly started back, for even then a change of
+wind might have penned the boat with ice,
+which would have cost us dearly. Indeed, the
+men thought we could not return, and we
+started for an island, in which direction the way
+was all open.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i096.jpg">
+<img src="images/i096.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">“I COULD SEE THAT MY RESCUERS WERE FRANTICALLY WAVING.”</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>There were not only five Newfoundland
+fishermen at the oars, but five men with Newfoundland
+muscles in their backs and arms and
+five as brave hearts as ever beat in the bodies
+of human beings. So we presently changed our
+course and forced our way through to the shore.</p>
+
+<p>To my intense astonishment they told me
+that the night before four men had been out on
+a point of land, from which the bay is visible,
+cutting some dead harp seals out from a store.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_410">410</span>
+The ice had been extraordinarily hard, and it
+had taken them till seven o’clock at night to cut
+out twenty-four seals. Just at the very moment
+before they left for home, my pan of ice had
+drifted out clear of the island called Hare Island,
+and one of them, with his keen fisherman’s eyes,
+had seen something unusual. They at once
+returned to their village, saying there was a man
+on a pan, but they had been discredited, for
+the people there thought it could only be
+the top of some tree.</p>
+
+<p>All the time I had been driving along I knew
+well that there was one man on the coast who
+had a good spy-glass, and that he had twelve
+children, among them some of the hardiest
+young men on the coast. Many times my
+thoughts had wandered to him, for his sons are
+everywhere, hunting seals and everything else.
+It was his sons, and another man with them, who
+saw me, and were now with him in the boat.
+The owner of the spy-glass told me he got up
+instantly in the middle of tea on hearing the news,
+and hurried over the cliff to the look-out with
+his glass. Immediately, dark as it was, he made
+out that there really
+was a man out on
+the ice. Indeed, he
+saw me wave my
+hands every now and
+again towards the
+shore. By a process
+of reasoning very
+easy on so unfrequented
+a shore, they
+immediately knew
+who it was, but tried
+to argue themselves
+out of their conviction.
+They went
+down at once to try
+and launch a boat,
+but found it absolutely
+impossible.
+Miles of ice lay between
+them and me,
+the heavy sea was
+hurling great blocks
+on the land-wash,
+and night was already
+falling, with the wind
+blowing hard on
+shore. These brave
+fellows, however, did
+not sit down idly.
+The whole village
+was aroused,
+messengers dispatched at once along the coast,
+and look-outs told off to all the favourable
+points, so that while I considered myself a
+laughing-stock, waving my flag at those irresponsive
+cliffs, there were really men’s eyes watching
+from them all the time.</p>
+
+<p>Every soul in the village was on the beach as
+we neared the shore, and everybody wanted to
+shake hands when I landed. Even with the
+grip that one after another gave me, some no
+longer trying to keep back the tears, I did not
+find out that my hands were frost-bitten&mdash;a fact
+I have not been slow to appreciate since. A
+weird sight I must have looked as I stepped
+ashore&mdash;tied up in rags stuffed out with oakum,
+wrapped in the blood-stained skins of dogs, with
+no hat, coat, or gloves, and only a short pair of
+knickers on! It must have seemed to some of
+them as if the Old Man of the Sea had landed.</p>
+
+<p>No time was wasted before a pot of tea was
+exactly where I wanted it to be, and some hot
+stew was locating itself where I had intended
+an hour before that the blood of one of my
+remaining dogs should have gone.</p>
+
+<p>Rigged out in the
+warm garments that
+fishermen wear, I
+started with a large
+team as hard as I
+could race for hospital,
+for I had learnt
+that the news had
+gone over that I was
+lost. It was soon
+painfully impressed
+upon me that I could
+not much enjoy the
+ride; I had to be
+hauled like a log up
+the hills, my feet
+being frost-bitten so
+that I could not
+walk. Had I guessed
+this before I might
+have avoided much
+trouble.</p>
+
+<p>We all love life,
+and I was glad to be
+back once more with
+a new lease of it
+before me. My colleague
+soon had me
+“fixed up,” and I
+was presently enjoying
+a really refreshing
+sleep.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i097.jpg">
+<img src="images/i097.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">THE AUTHOR AS HE APPEARED AFTER HIS TERRIBLE EXPERIENCE ON
+THE ICE FLOE, SHOWING THE FLAG-STAFF MADE OF DOGS’ BONES.<br />
+<i>From a Photograph.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="copy">(Copyright, 1908, by Fleming H. Revell Company.)
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_411">411</span></p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<h2 id="THE_WIDE_WORLD_In_Other_Magazines">THE WIDE WORLD: In Other Magazines.</h2>
+
+<h3>UNIQUE POST-OFFICE IN NEBRASKA.</h3>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i098a.jpg">
+<img src="images/i098a.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption"></p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop"><span class="upper-case">Some</span> years ago, a traveller recounting his experiences
+of the early days of the city of Nebraska,
+U.S.A., says that on arriving at the odd collection of
+shanties that then represented the beginnings of the city,
+he inquired for the post-office, and was referred to an
+old chap sitting on a log. Of this man he further
+inquired where he could find the post-office, as he
+expected a letter. The old chap removed his sombrero,
+and, fumbling inside it, produced the expected
+letter. Since then Nebraska has grown into considerable
+importance as the capital of the State of
+Nebraska.&mdash;“<span class="small">THE CAPTAIN.</span>”</p>
+
+<h3>CURIOUS FISHING SUPERSTITIONS.</h3>
+
+<p class="drop"><span class="upper-case">In</span> British Columbia the Indians ceremoniously
+go out to meet the first salmon, and in flattering
+voices try to win their favour by calling them all
+chiefs. Every spring in California the Karaks used
+to dance for salmon. Meanwhile one of their number
+secluded himself in the mountains and fasted for ten
+days. Upon his return he solemnly approached the
+river, took the first salmon of the catch, ate some of
+it, and with the remainder lighted a sacrificial fire.
+The same Indians laboriously climbed to the mountain-top
+after the poles for the spearing-booth, being
+convinced that if they were gathered where the salmon
+were watching no fish would be caught. In Japan,
+among the primitive race of the Ainos, even the
+women left at home are not allowed to talk, lest the
+fish may hear and disapprove, while the first fish is
+always brought in through a window instead of a
+door, so that other fish may not see.&mdash;“<span class="small">TIT-BITS.</span>”</p>
+
+<h3>FLEMISH FISHERWOMEN.</h3>
+
+<p class="drop"><span class="upper-case">On</span> the coasts of Holland, Belgium, and Northern
+France fisherwomen are a familiar sight, with
+their great hand-nets and quaint costumes. Many
+of the towns have distinctive costumes by which
+their women can be recognised anywhere. Those of
+Maria-Kirke, near Ostend, wear trousers and loose
+blouses, while their heads and shoulders are covered by
+shawls. They carry their nets into the sea, and scoop
+up vast quantities of shrimps and prawns, with an occasional
+crab or lobster and many small fish. They often wade
+out till the water is up to their necks, and they remain
+for hours at a time in water above their knees, rarely
+returning until their baskets are full.&mdash;“<span class="small">WOMAN’S LIFE.</span>”</p>
+
+<h3>CANADA FOR THE SPORTSMAN.</h3>
+
+<p class="drop"><span class="upper-case">Canada</span> is an ideal country for the sportsman. Notwithstanding
+its rapid commercial development, it
+still has thousands of miles of wild and unexplored land,
+where man has seldom or never trodden. Even in the
+Eastern provinces, within a very short distance of civilization,
+wild animals of many kinds&mdash;moose, caribou, elk,
+deer, and even bears&mdash;still abound. From the Atlantic
+coast to the Pacific slope, from the international boundary
+line north to the Arctic circle, Canada offers magnificent
+opportunities to the sportsman, whatever his tastes may
+be; big and small game-shooting, fishing, camping,
+canoeing.&mdash;“<span class="small">FRY’S MAGAZINE.</span>”</p>
+
+<h3>THE GEESE OF NIEDER-M&Ouml;RLEN.</h3>
+
+<p class="drop"><span class="upper-case">In</span> the little Hessean village of Nieder-M&ouml;rlen, between
+Giessen and Frankfort, a strange scene may be
+witnessed every evening at half-past five. Some two
+thousand geese, which have spent the day on the river’s
+bank below the village, at a given signal from their
+leaders make their way homewards with much pomp and
+circumstance and raucous noise. The strangest part of
+the proceeding is seen when they reach the village street
+and, without any guidance or driving, waddle each into
+its own yard for the night. Like so many squads they
+break off in their dozens from the main body, knowing
+instinctively their owners’ door, and with solemn gait
+enter in as though conscious of their own innate cleverness.&mdash;Mr.
+A.H. Ross, in “<span class="small">THE STRAND MAGAZINE</span>.”</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i098b.jpg">
+<img src="images/i098b.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_412">412</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+<h2 id="Odds_and_Ends">Odds and Ends.<br />
+
+<span class="medium">A Wonderful Balanced Rock&mdash;What a Lightning Flash Did&mdash;The Sea Captain’s House, etc.</span></h2>
+
+<div>
+<img class="drop-cap" src="images/n.jpg" alt="N" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">Near</span> Dome Rock, Colorado, thirty-two
+miles up Platte Canyon from
+Denver, is situated one of the most
+wonderful balanced rocks in the
+world. This rock, as will be seen
+from the illustration, is poised with very little
+of its surface touching the ground. The most
+peculiar feature about the boulder is the
+fact that it does not rest on a flat surface of
+soft earth, but is perched out on an incline with
+a very steep angle. The slope on which it
+stands, moreover, is of smooth, solid rock, too
+slippery for anyone to walk up, and how the
+boulder maintains its position is a mystery.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i099.jpg">
+<img src="images/i099.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">A WONDERFUL BALANCED ROCK&mdash;IT IS PERCHED ON A STEEP SLOPE OF SMOOTH, SLIPPERY ROCK, AND HOW IT MAINTAINS
+ITS POSITION IS A MYSTERY.<br />
+<i>From a Photo. by J. R. Bauer.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Church bells and church plate, as related in a
+recent <span class="smcap">Wide World</span> article, are not the only
+kinds of buried treasure of which there are
+traditions in Worcestershire. Mr. J.W. Willis
+Bund, in his “Civil War in Worcestershire,”
+says: “There is hardly a family who possessed
+a landed estate at the time of the Civil War
+that has not some legend of concealed treasure.
+For instance, the Berkeleys, of Spetchley, say
+their butler, to save the family plate, hid it
+under one of the elms in the avenue. The
+butler was wounded, and tried with his last
+breath to confide his secret to a member of
+the family, but could get no further than
+’plate,’ ‘elm,’ ‘avenue,’ and died; so that
+the plate remains hidden to this day.” The
+occasion upon which the Berkeley plate was
+hidden was the sack and burning of their
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_413">413</span>
+family mansion at Spetchley, upon the eve
+of the Battle of Worcester, by the Scots troops
+who accompanied Charles II. from the North.
+Sir Robert Berkeley was a devoted Royalist and
+had suffered much for
+the King, and members
+of his family were serving
+in the Royal army; but
+the Scots, who had fought
+upon both sides, were
+not careful to distinguish
+between friend and foe.
+The only portion of
+Spetchley which escaped
+the flames was the
+stabling. Here Cromwell
+made his head-quarters,
+and after the war Judge
+Berkeley converted the
+building into a house
+and lived there for many
+years. The elm avenue
+in Spetchley Park,
+where the plate was
+buried, still exists, and
+is one of the finest in
+Worcestershire. For the
+photograph given above
+we are indebted to
+the courtesy of Mr. T.
+Duckworth, of the
+Worcester Victoria Institute.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i100a.jpg">
+<img src="images/i100a.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">THE ELM AVENUE IN SPETCHLEY PARK, WORCESTERSHIRE&mdash;A FAITHFUL BUTLER, AT THE TIME OF THE
+CIVIL WAR, BURIED THE FAMILY PLATE UNDER ONE OF THE TREES TO SAVE IT FROM THE ENEMY, BUT
+DIED BEFORE HE COULD REVEAL THE SECRET OF THE HIDING-PLACE.<br />
+<i>From a Photograph.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>The curious little
+building seen in the
+next photograph
+stands at the end of
+a private walk on the
+shores of the River
+Orwell, in Suffolk. It
+is known as the “Cat
+House,” for the
+reason that, in the
+“good old times,” a
+white cat used to be
+exhibited at a window
+visible from the river
+as a signal to smugglers,
+who flourished
+in the locality. When
+the animal was shown,
+the “Free-Traders,”
+as the contrabandists
+were euphemistically
+called, knew that the
+coast was clear, and
+promptly sailed up
+and landed their
+cargo, secure from
+the attentions of the “preventives.” Near
+“Cat House” is Downham Reach, which was
+the scene of some of Margaret Catchpole’s most
+exciting adventures.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i100b.jpg">
+<img src="images/i100b.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">THE “CAT HOUSE,” NEAR IPSWICH, SO CALLED BECAUSE A WHITE CAT WAS EXHIBITED AT THE
+WINDOW AS A SIGNAL TO SMUGGLERS.<br />
+<i>From a Photo. by Frith &amp; Co.</i>
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_414">414</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i101.jpg">
+<img src="images/i101.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">THIS TERRIFIC OIL FIRE, STARTED BY A LIGHTNING FLASH, DID A HUNDRED AND FIFTY THOUSAND DOLLARS’ WORTH
+OF DAMAGE.<br />
+<i>From a Photograph.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>The accompanying photograph depicts a
+terrific oil fire, which occurred on the night
+of June 23rd, 1908, at Warren, Pennsylvania.
+The conflagration started through a tank being
+struck by lightning, and in a very short time
+twenty-five oil-holders, large and small, together
+with the wax-house, were destroyed. The fire
+burned for nearly twenty-four hours, and its
+fierceness is almost impossible to conceive.
+The total loss incurred was something like one
+hundred and fifty thousand dollars.</p>
+
+<p>The extraordinary-looking dwelling seen in
+the next picture was built to exactly resemble
+a steamship’s bridge, with chart-room and other
+appurtenances all complete. This curious erection
+is situated at Algorta, near Bilbao, in the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_415">415</span>
+North of Spain, and is called “Casa-Barco,”
+or “house-boat.” It was
+probably built by a retired sea-captain,
+who felt like a fish out of
+water until he had provided for
+himself the same environment to
+which he had been used during his
+active career at sea. One can
+imagine the old gentleman taking
+his evening walk to and fro along
+the lofty bridge, scanning the surrounding
+country with a sailor’s
+eye, and half inclined now and
+then to ring for “more speed,” or
+to send an order down the tube to
+the steersman.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i102a.jpg">
+<img src="images/i102a.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">A HOUSE BUILT TO RESEMBLE A STEAMSHIP’S
+BRIDGE.<br />
+<i>From a Photograph.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>The cat seen in the next photograph
+was the pet of the crew of
+the ill-fated whaler <i>Windward</i>,
+which was wrecked in Baffin’s Bay
+last season. After the disaster
+pussy had a long, cold voyage in
+the open boats in which the ship-wrecked
+men pulled&mdash;amidst ice-bergs,
+snow, and tossing seas&mdash;for
+over five hundred miles, encountering
+dangers and adventures galore,
+till after three weeks of fearful
+exposure and hardship they were
+picked up by the whaler <i>Morning</i>,
+in which the correspondent who
+sent us the picture was a passenger.
+“Pussy then made up for
+her sufferings by making her home
+in my bunk,” he writes. “During
+the cold nights of the Arctic autumn
+I found her a very good substitute for
+a hot-water bottle.”</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i102b.jpg">
+<img src="images/i102b.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">A CAT WHICH MADE A FIVE-HUNDRED-MILE VOYAGE IN AN OPEN BOAT IN THE
+ARCTIC OCEAN.<br />
+<i>From a Photograph.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i102c.jpg">
+<img src="images/i102c.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">ANOTHER REMARKABLE ROCK&mdash;IT IS AN ALMOST PERFECT
+GLOBE, AND THOUGH IT PROBABLY WEIGHS
+TWENTY TONS FOUR STRONG MEN CAN SET IT SPINNING
+ON ITS BASE.<br />
+<i>From a Photograph.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>On the foreshore of the Mata Beach,
+Mangapai, New Zealand, stands the
+remarkable rock shown above. It is an
+almost perfect sphere of hard blue
+rock, shot with white quartz, of an
+entirely different formation from any
+other known rocks in the district. The
+mystery is, of course, to know how
+it reached its present position on
+the soft sandstone of the beach.
+Popular opinion is that in distant ages
+it was shot from a volcano, since
+extinct. The rock, which probably
+weighs twenty tons, rests in a cup like
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_416">416</span>
+depression in the sandstone formation on which
+it stands, and is so nicely poised that four strong
+men, encircling it with their arms and all pushing
+one way, can set it spinning on its base.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<div class="tcell">
+<a href="images/i103a.jpg">
+<img src="images/i103a.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">THE BULL-THROWER SEIZING THE ANIMAL BY THE TAIL.<br />
+<i>From a Photograph.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="tcell">
+<a href="images/i103b.jpg">
+<img src="images/i103b.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">OVER! THE BULL GOES CRASHING TO EARTH AMID A
+CLOUD OF DUST.<br />
+<i>From a Photograph</i></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>The two snapshots reproduced above illustrate
+striking phases of an exciting Mexican pastime&mdash;that
+of flooring bulls with the hand from horseback!
+The rider, galloping after the bull, seizes
+it by the tail and, passing his leg over the tail
+for the sake of leverage, pulls the poor beast
+round sideways until it trips and goes crashing to
+earth amidst a cloud of dust. Needless to say,
+the bull-thrower needs a strong hand and steady
+nerves, or he may find himself in trouble.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a href="images/i103c-lrg.jpg">
+<img src="images/i103c.jpg"
+alt="" /></a>
+<p class="caption">THE MAP-CONTENTS OF “THE WIDE WORLD MAGAZINE,” WHICH SHOWS AT A GLANCE THE LOCALITY OF EACH ARTICLE AND
+NARRATIVE OF ADVENTURE IN THIS NUMBER.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="transnote">
+<h3>Transcriber's Note:</h3>
+
+<p>Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation are as in the original.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Wide World Magazine, by Various
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+</body>
+</html>
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author	nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org>	2025-02-05 03:27:31 -0800
committer	nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org>	2025-02-05 03:27:31 -0800
commit	e0ee32790ca57c4734ffb7788248329fd077dc5d (patch)
tree	e4fcda3f9fc186e8e63bd9832f9d3e1ab51d6a5f