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yrcsc^tl'^  to 
of  tlie 

llniiuTSitu  of  (Tnroutn 

V.r8.  T.Tic  ^.  Ryerson 


THE  WIDE   WORLD   MAGAZINE 

October,   1902,  to   March,   1903 


V  III  I-: 


\MDE   WORLD 

MAGAZINE 


AX  ILLL'STRATE.D 

MONTHLY 

01' 

TRUE  NARRATIVE 


ADVENTURE  TRUTH     IS 

TRAVEL 

^^''^™-^'s  STRANGER 


AND 


THAN 


FICTION" 


Vol.  X. 

OCTOBER 
1902, 

TO 

LONDON 

MARCH  GEO  KG E  NEH'NES,    LTD. 

SOUTHAMPTON  ST. 
'  9*^3 .  STRAND 


i         •) 


/  ^  s 


)   DOWN   FROM   THE   HIGH   BANK 
AHITEHLAD." 

..:    M.) 


The  Wide  Wored  Magazine. 


\'ol.  X. 


OCTOBER,     1902. 


No.  55. 


The  Man-Eaters  of  Tsavo. 


THE    LIONS   THAT    STOPPED    A    RAH,W.\Y. 
By  Lieut.-Colonel  J.   H.   Patterson,  D.S.O. 

This  is  probably  the  most  remarkable  lion  story  on  record.  Colonel  Patterson  describes  how  two 
man-eating  lions  established  a  veritable  reign  of  terror  at  the  railhead  construction  camps  of  the 
Uganda  Railway.  For  three  weeks  the  savage  beasts  kept  several  thousand  men  in  a  state  of  helpless 
panic,  entirely  stopping  the  progress  of  the  railway.  Men  were  dragged  out  of  their  tents  and 
eaten  almost  nightly,  and  no  one's  life  seemed  safe.  Countless  traps  were  laid  for  the  lions  ;  they 
were  fired  at  again  and  again  ;  a  Government  reward  was  offered  for  their  destruction,  yet  they 
escaped  unharmed.  At  last,  however,  after  numberless  attempts,  Colonel  Patterson  was  fortunate 
enough  to  kill  both  the  man-eaters,  and  with  their  death  work  on  the  railway  was  resumed.  The 
interest  of  the  narrative  is  heightened  by  a  number  of  photographs. 


A>W«H 


CHAPTER  I. 

thp:  co.ming  of   the    man-eater.s. 

N  1897  I  received  an  appointment 
on  the  construction  staff  of  the 
Uganda  Railway,  then  being  built. 
When  I  landed  at  Mombasa  the 
rails  had  been  laid  for  over  100 
miles  inland.  There  was  a  lot  of  work  to  be 
done  in  this  neighbourhood,  and  this  I  was 
deputed  to  take  charge  of,  with  Tsavo  as  my 
head-quarters.  Tsavo  is  a  wayside  station  on 
the  Uganda  Railway,  in 
British  East  Africa,  dis- 
tant about  130  miles  from 
Mombasa.  The  country 
around  is  densely  covered 
with  dwarfish  trees,  under- 
growth, and  "  wait-a-bit  " 
thorns.  In  a  jungle  like 
this  a  wild  animal  has 
every  chance  against  the 
hunter,  for,  liowever  care- 
ful one  may  be,  some- 
thing is  certain  to  crackle 
or  snap  and  give  the 
alarm.  It  is  necessary 
to  bear  this  fact  in  mind, 
as  it  has  an  important 
bearing  on  iny  story. 

My  first  experience  of 
the  T.savo  man  eaters  oc- 
curred about  the  middle 
of   March,     1898.       Rail- 


.   _    :     ■■  i;i.  J.    ir 
f'loni  a  Photo. 


head  had  just  reached  Tsavo  when  one  or 
two  of  the  coolies  mysteriously  disappeared. 
At  first  I  thought  that  they  had  been  tlie 
victims  of  foul  play,  but  that  idea  was  soon 
dispelled.  I  was  roused  about  daylight  one 
morning,  March  25th,  and  told  that  a  jemidar. 
named  Ungan  Singh,  a  fine,  powerful  Sikh,  had 
been  carried  off  during  the  night  by  a  lion 
while  he  lay  asleep  in  a  tent  shared  by  some 
dozen  other  workmen  ! 

I  immediately  went  and  examined  the  place. 

It  was  clear  enough  that 
a  lion  had  carried  off  the 
man,  as  the  "  pug"  marks 
were  plainly  visible  in  the 
.sand.  The  furrows  made 
by  the  unfortunate  vic- 
tim's heels  marked  the 
direction  in  which  the 
brute  had  dragged  him 
off 

One  of  the  jemidar's 
bedfellows  had  seen  the 
whole  occurrence.  At 
midnight  the  lion  put  his 
head  in  at  the  open  tent 
door,  and,  as  Ungan 
Singh  was  nearest,  seized 
him  by  the  throat.  The 
unfortunate  fellow  cried 
out  "  C/iorof"  ("Let 
go  !  ")  and  threw  his  arms 
u[)  round  the  lion's  neck. 


*  These  ferccious  beasts  possess  the  unique  distinction  of  having  heen  mentioned  in  the  House  ol  Lords  by  a  British  Premier. 
Speaking  of  the  difficulties  that  were  met  with  in  the  coiistruciion  of  the  Uganda  Railway,  Lord  Salisbury  s.iid  :  "The  whole  of  the 
works  were  put  a  etop  to  for  three  wreks  because  a  party  of  man-eating  lions  appeared  in  the  locality  and  conceived  a  most  unfortunaie 
taste  for  our  por.ers.  At  last  the  labourers  entirely  declined  to  go  on  unless  they  were  guarded  by  an  iron  entrenchirient.  Ol  course,  it 
is  difficult  to  work  a  railway  under  these  conditions,  and  until  we  found  an  enthusi.-isiic  sportsman  to  get  rid  of  the.se  lions  our  enterprise 
was  seriously  hindered.'' 

Vol.  .X.-1. 


THK    WIDE    WORl.U    MAGAZINE. 


•  CM,  *A3  «.AKiiiK^  bV  THE  M  AN-EA  riCl;. 


I 

r 

II 
\ 


Poor  Unpan  Singh 
had  he? 

, ^,  .  ,     Iw     111  l' 

in  a  irtt:  near   llie   i;itc 
.1...    .1..    iJQp,    would 

,   .     >   followed   to 
ic  tcmficd  coohes,  who 

irce  with 

:  i'l   t!u.'ir 

wrc   tiliot- 

•1,,.  ,,tl„.r 

I    Heard  the 


itly   ceased   alto- 

'>f  hours, 
-  e.      Sud 
r,  and  fearful 
half  a  mile 

':  ■  ^   had 
■thint; 


at  this  till 


ir 


bunyah  (Indian  trader)  as 
he  rode  along  late  one 
night  on  his  donkey.  The 
brute  knocked  both  man 
and  beast  over,  and  gave 
the  donkey  a  nasty  wound. 
In  some  way  or  other, 
however,  he  got  his  claws 
entangled  in  a  rope  by 
which  two  empty  oil  tins 
were  slung  across  the 
donkey's  neck,  and  the 
clatter  these  made  as  he 
dragged  them  after  him 
gave  him  such  a  fright  that  he  bolted  into  the 
jungle— to  the  intense  relief  of  the  paralyzed 
hiinyah,  who  spent  the  rest  of  the  night  up  a 
tree  shivering  with  fear. 

On  another  occasion  one  of  the  lions  jumped 
on  to  a  tent  belonging  to  a  Greek  contractor, 
and  carried  off  the  mattress  on  which  the  man 
was  sleeping.  It  was  a  rude  awakening,  but  the 
Greek  was  quite  unhurt,  and  he  also  spent  the 
rest  of  the  night  up  a  tall  tree. 

A  similar  thing  happened  to  some  coolies. 
The  lion  jumped  on  a  tent  and  landed  with  one 
claw  on  a  man's  shoulder,  hurting  him  rather 
badly.  But  instead  of  seizing  tiie  man  he 
grabl)ed,  in  his  hurry,  a  small  bag  of  rice, 
which  he  made  off  with,  dropping  it  in  disgust 
some  distance  away. 

Rut  these  were  their  earlier  efforts.     Later  on 

nothing  flurried  or  frightened  them,  and  except 

as  prey  they  showed  an  absolute  contempt  for 

man.    Having  once  marked  their  victim,  nothing 

deterred  them  from   securing    him,  whether  he 

were  inside  a  tent  or  sitting  round  a  bright  fire. 

Shots,     shouting,    and     firebrands     they    alike 

laughed  at.     Finding   man    easy  to   catch   and 

kill,  and   excellent   eating,    they   developed   the 

taste   until    finally    they    would    touch    nothing 

else    if   human    flesh    could    possibly    be    got. 

Towards  the  end    of  their  career  they  stopped 

'.   nothing,  and  braved  every  danger  in    order 

>  get    their    favourite    food.      Their     methods 

■  '■•     so    uncanny    and     their     man  -  stalking 

'Ttain    and     well  -  timed    that    our    every 

nicd   futile,  and  it   was  quite  evident 

111,11     iiKj   brutes  made  a    close   and   intelligent 

study  of  the  habits  of  each   camp  before  they 

ked  it. 

ifter  my  lirsl  exjjerience  with  the  man- 

<  '      i' lined      Dr.      Brock,      the     railway 

•r,   who  lived   about  a  mile  away, 

and  » iuse  to  the  main   camp  of  my  workmen. 

'a    hut    constructed    of  palm-leaves 

and   surrounded   by  a  boiiia  (thorn 

I  was  circular  in  shape  and  had  a 

I  about  seventy  yards.     It  was  fairly 


THE    MAN-EATERS    OF    TSAVO. 


n 

k 

m 

^#^ 

==<^ 

^1^ 

\^ 

% 

auMP^ 

M 

i 

a 

WJJ        t\^  ■  .•■» 

-:j"^ 

'S- 

1 

1^ 

1 

B.^1^11 

FiJHv  J 

mjtj^k- 

>*. 

J 

m 

.iOi<oiiv^- 

>* 

■ 

Front  a\ 


iiii;  AL  rncjK  s  ca.mi'  ai    i  >avu. 


well  made,  being  thick  and  high.  Our  personal 
servants  lived  inside  the  enclosure,  and  a  good 
fire  was  kept  up  all  night  long.  For  the  sake  of 
coolness  Brock  and  I  used  to  sit  under  the 
veranda  of  the  hut.  After  the  advent  of  the  lions 
it  was  rather  trying  to  one's  nerves  to  sit  reading 
or  writing  there  after  dark,  as  we  never  knew 
but  that  a  lion  might  spring  over  the  boma  at 
any  moment  and  be  on  us  before  we  were 
aware.  We  kept  our  rifles,  therefore,  within 
easy  reach,  and  many  an  anxious  glance  was 
cast  out  into  the  circle  of  blackness  beyond  the 
firelight.  On  one  or  two  occasions  the  lions 
came  near  and  tried  to  get  in  at  us,  but  they 
never  succeeded  in  doing  so. 

The  coolie  camp  was  also  surrounded  by  a 
boma,  and  fires  were  kept  burning  all  night. 
It  was  the  duty  of  the  camp  watchmen  to  clatter 
half-a-dozen  empty  kerosene  tins,  which  were 
suspended  from  a  convenient  tree,  and  this 
frightful  din  was  kept  up  all  night  long  in  the 
hope  that  the  noise  would  terrify  the  animals 
away.  In  spite  of  all  these  pre- 
cautions, however,  the  lions  would 
not  be  denied,  and  a  man  dis- 
appeared regularly  every  second  or 
third  night,  the  reports  of  the  dis- 
appearance of  this  and  that  work- 
man comi'ig  to  me  with  painful 
frequency. 

So  long  as  Railhead  Camp,  with 
its  three  or  four  thousand  men, 
scattered  over  a  wide  area,  re- 
mained at  Tsavo,  not  so  much 
notice  was  taken  by  the  coolies  of 
the  dreadful  deaths  of  their  com- 
rades, but  when  this  large  camp 
was  moved  ahead  matters  altered. 
I  was  left  behind  with  a  few 
hundred  men  to  build  bridges,  a 
station,  etc.,  and,  the  men  being 
all    cam[)cd    close    together,    the 


lions  natur.  "•     '    - 

voted  their  .               i 

more  particularly   to 

us. 

A  regular  reign  of 
terror  now  com- 
menced in  our  little 
camp.  I  accordingly 
made  the  men  con- 
struct a  very  thick 
and  high  boiua  round 
each  camp,  and  in- 
side this  they  were 
fairly  secure.  'I'he 
lions  then  attacked 
the  Railhead  Hospital 
Camp,  which  had 
been  left  behind  at  Tsavo,  and  which  stood  in 
rather  a  lonely  position.  They  jumped  the  boma 
and  almost  succeeded  in  seizing  the  hospital 
assistant,  who  had  a  mar\ellous  escape.  Being 
disappointed  in  this,  one  of  them  sprang  on  to 
and  broke  down  a  tent  in  which  there  were  a 
dozen  patients,  and  made  off  with  a  poor 
wretch,  dragging  him  bodily  through  the  thorn 
hedge.  A  couple  of  others  were  wounded  by 
the  lion  as  he  jumped  on  them.  The  brutes 
seemed  to  find  the  invalids  an  easv  prey,  as  they 
made  several  raids  on  the  hospital. 

A  fresh  site  was  accordingly  prepared  for  the 
hospital  near  the  coolie  camp,  and  all  the 
patients  were  removed.  I  sat  uj)  all  night  in 
the  vacated  boma,  having  been  told  that  lions 
always  visited  deserted  camps.  They  did  not 
come,  however,  and  as  I  kept  my  lonely  vigil  in 
the  empty  hospital  I  had  the  mortification  of  hear- 
ing shrieks  and  cries  coming  from  the  direction 
of  the  new  hospital,  telling  me  only  too  plainly 
that  our  dreaded  foes  had  eluded  me  n^nir' 


Till-:  TWO   MEN   SEEN    IN   THIS   I'MOTOGRAPH   WEKE    KII.LEU   UV   TMtJ   MA.>-»Ariifc.'«. 


IHK    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


r   f. 


Haur  c-irr: 


lions 

ff  the 

men  were 

rrence, 

of  the 

:|)peared,  was 

■     '       head 

wg  tlie 

ad  under  the  canvas, 

■   him  out. 

>..vhcd  at  a 

th   him   until  it  was 
and  he  was  forced  to  let  it 

ne,  which  he  held 

II  as  the  Hon  got 

he  man's  throat,  and  the 

silenced  for  ever. 


'  the  fence,  mn 

burden   in   his 

"*  to  force  his 

found   and 

»'■  "111    with    him, 

"M    the    tlioriis   .IS 

III,   and 


That  afternoon  the  lions  were  seen  in  no  fewer 
than  three  different  places.  At  about  four  miles 
from  Tsavo  they  attacked  a  coolie  who  was 
walking  along  the  line.  He  managed,  however, 
to  escape  up  a  tree,  from  which  he  was  rescued 
more  dead  than  alive  by  the  traffic  manager, 
who  saw  him  from  a  passing  train.  A  couple 
of  hours  later  some  men  saw  one  of  them  stalk- 
ing Dr.  Brock  as  he  was  returning  about 
dusk  from  the  hospital.  This  lion  had  evidently 
taken  a  fancy  to  Brock,  as  an  event  which 
occurred  the  same  night  will  show. 

After  dinner  the  doctor  and  I  set  out  for  the 
waggon,  which  was  over  a  mile  away.  The 
night  was  very  cloudy  and  dark,  and,  in  the 
light  of  later  events,  we  did  a  very  foolish  thing 
indeed  in  taking  up  our  position  so  late.     How- 

e\er,  we  reached 
our  destination 
safely,  and  got 
settled  down  at 
about  lo  p.m. 

AVe  had  the  lower 
half  of  the  door 
closed,  while  the 
u[)i)er  halves  were 
wide  open.  Wa  sat 
there  in  silence, 
looking  out  in  the 
direction  of  the 
bo}iio,  but  could  not 
see  it  on  account  of 
the  darkness. 

All  was  perfectly 
quiet  for   a   couple 
of   hours,    and    the 
stillness  was  becom- 
mg  monotonous, 
when    suddenly,   to 
our  right,  we  heard 
the   snap    of  a  dry 
stick,  and  we  knew 
thai     some     heavy 
animal  was  about.     Soon  afterwards  we  heard  a 
dull    thud,    as   though  some   heavy    body   had 
fallen     into    the    doma.       The    cattle    became 
uiiea.sy,  and  we  could  hear  them   moving  about 
restlessly.     Then  there  was  a  dead  silence  again. 
I  j)roposed  to  my  companion  that  I   should  get 
out  and  he  on   the  grcnind,  as   I   could  in   this 
position  see  better  should  the  lion  come  " 
diicctif)!!    with    his     prey.       Brock 
warned  inc  to  remain  where  I  w\is. 

A   few  seconds   afterwards    I    was   very   glad 

ih.it   I   had   taken  his  advice,   for  at   that  very 

""•"K'-nt  tlie  lion-although  we  did  not  know  it 

'^.is  .|inctly  stalking  us,  and   was  even  then 

almost  within  springing  di.stance  of  us. 

Hrock  had  given  orders  for  the  bo;>ia  entrance 


•■    "IM.    Ml.liNCED   FOR    EVKR.' 


in  our 
however, 


THE  MAX  KATERS  OF  ISAVO. 


to  be  blocked  up,  and  we  therefore  expected  to 
hear  the  lion  iorcing  his  way  out.  The  door, 
however,  had  not  Ijecn  properly  closed,  and 
while  we  wondered  what  he  could  be  domg  he 
was  all  the  tmie  silently  reconnoitring  ouf 
position. 

Presently  I  thought  I  saw  something  stealthily 
coming  towards  us,  but  I  feared  to  trust  my 
eyes,  which  were  strained  by  prolonged  staring 
through  the  darkness.  I  asked  Brock  under 
my  breath  if  he  saw  anything,  at  the  same  time 
covering  the  object  as  well  as  I  could  with  my 
rifle.  Brock  did  not  answer.  He  told  me 
afterwards  that  he  had  noticed  something  move, 
but  was  afraid  to  speak  lest  I  should  tire,  and 
it  might  turn  out  to  be  nothing  after  all. 

There  was  an  intense  silence  for  another 
second  or  two.  Then  with  a  sudden  bound  a 
huge  body  sprang  at  us.  "  The  lion  ! "  I 
shouted,  and  we  both  fired  almost  simul- 
taneously,   and    not    a    moment    too    soon,    for 


escape.  The  next  morning  Brock's  bullet  was 
found  embedded  in  the  sand  close  to  a  foot- 
print It  could  not  have  missed  the  lion  by 
more  than  an  inch  or  two.  Mine  was  nowhere 
to  be  found. 


"  WE    BOTH    FIREI^    ALMOST    SIMULTANEOUSLY. 

before  he  could  turn  I  felt  his  hot  breath  on  my 
face.  The  lion  must  have  swerved  off  as  he 
sprang,  probably  blinded  by  the  flash  and 
frightened  by  the  noise  of  the  double  report, 
which  was  increased  a  hundredfold  by  the 
hollow  iron  roof  of  the  waggon.  Had  we  not 
been  on  the  alert  he  would  undoubtedly  have 
got  one  of  us.     As  it  wa.s,  we  were  very  lucky  to 


CHAPTER  H. 

HOW      Mil.     LIONS    STOPt'LD    THK    R.Ml.WAY. 

Tm;  lions  seemed  to  have  got  a  bad  fright 
the  night  they  attacked  us  in  the  waggon,  for 
they  kept  away  from  Tsavo  and  did  not  trouble 
It  again  for  some  considerable  time— not  until 
long  after  Brock  had  left  me  and  gone  on  a 
journey  to  Uganda. 

They  did  not  give  up  their  man  eating  pro- 
pensities, however,  but  turned  their  attention  to 
other  camps.  On  April  25th  two  men  were 
taken  from  Railhead,  and  a  few  niglits  after- 
wards (April  28th)  another  man  was  taken  from 
a  place  called  Engomani. 

Two  more  men  were  taken  from  Engomani 
on  May  ist.  One  man  was 
killed  outright  and  eaten,  and 
the  other  was  so  terriblv  mauled 
that  he  died  ni  a  few  days. 

It  struck  me  that  in  case  they 
should  renew  their  attempts  at 
Tsavo  a  trap  might  perhaps  be 
the  best  way  of  getting  at  them, 
and  that  if  I  were  to  construct 
one,  and  put  a  couple  of  men 
into  it  as  "  bait,"  the  lions 
would  be  quite  daring  enough 
to  go  in  after  them,  and  so  get 
caught. 

I  had  not  much  suitable 
material  for  the  construction  of 
the  trap.  It  was  made  entirely 
of  wooden  sleepers,  tram -rails 
(which  I  broke  into  suitable 
lengths),  pieces  of  telegraph 
wire,  and  a  bit  of  chain.  It 
had  two  compartments,  one  for 
the  men,  the  other  for  the  lion. 
A  sliding  door  at  one  end  ad- 
mitted the  men,  and  once  inside 
they  were  perfectly  safe,  as 
between  them  and  the  lion,  if 
he  entered,  ran  a  cross  wall  of 
iron  rails,  only  ^in.  apart,  firmly 
embedded  in  sleepers.  The 
door  which  was  to  admit  the  lion  was,  of  course, 
at  the  opi)()>ile  end,  and  the  whole  thing  was 
made  very  much  on  the  principle  of  the  rat 
trap,  only  that  it  was  not  necessary  for  the  lion 
to  seize  the  bait  in  order  to  si  nd  the  door 
clattering  down  behind  him. 

As    soon    as    he    entered    the    cage    he    xyas 
bound   to  tread  on  a  concealed   sprint'   ^vl  ".  h 


THK    WIPE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


TUK   n-ACC   AT   K9><»UANI 


miKKK    A    MAN    WAS   CAKKI£D  OFF   AND  EATEN    liV   THE    LIONS. 

hrom  a  riioto. 


A  ft,..  V. .re,  when  down   would  come  the 

u. 

"jn  as  our  trap  was  ready  I  pitched  a 

-   ■  ■      '        •     the  lions,  and  made  an 

(I   round   it.     One  small 

was  nude  at  the  back  for  the  men, 

c  by  pulling  a  bush  after 

....   ,    --I'lg    was    I»-ft  in    front  of 

'f    for    the    lions.      I 

If  for 

ciothinj; 

the  lion.s 

us  at    I'savo  for 

vin2  thnf 


move  until  the  ghastly 
meal  was  finished, 
although  several  shots 
were  fired  at  random  in 
their  direction  by  the 
jcmidar  of  the  gang. 

On  the  chance  that 
they  might  return  I  took 
up  my  position  at  night- 
fall in  a  tree  near  the 
place  and  waited.  No- 
thing came  near  me,  how- 
ever, but  a  hyaena.  An 
attack  was  made  that 
night  on  another  camp 
some  two  miles  from 
Tsavo,  for  at  this  time 
the  camps  were  again 
scattered.  The  brutes 
got  another  victim,  and 
ate  him  cjuite  close  to  the 
camp. 

I    sat    up    every 

for    over    a    week     near 

but  the  lions  either  saw  me  and 

or    else    I    was    unlucky,    for 


night 


likely  camps 

went    elsewhere 

they  took   man  after  man   without  ever  giving 

me  the  chance  of  a  shot  at  them. 

This  constant  night-watching  was  most  dreary 
and  fatiguing  work.  I  felt  it  a  duty,  however, 
that  had  to  be  undertaken,  as  the  men  naturally 
looked  to  me  for  protection. 


^•|  UUCTED  Ol 


J-rom  a  I'hoto. 


si.i;i:i'i:ks   and  tkam-raius. 


THE    MAN-EATERS    OF    TSAVO. 


I  have  encountered  nothing  more  nerve- 
shaking  in  the  whole  of  my  experience  than  to 
hsten  to  the  deep  roars  ot  these  dreadful 
monsters  growing  gradually  nearer  and  nearer, 
and  to  know  that  some  one  or  other  of  us  was 
to  be  their  victim  before  mornmg  dawned. 
Once  they  got  uito  the  vicinity  of  the  camp  the 
roars  ceased,  and  then  we  knew  that  they  were 
stalking  for  their  prey.  Shouts  would  then  pass 
from  camp  to  camp  :  "  Khabar  dar,  chaieon^ 
shaitan  ata  !  "  ("  Beware,  brothers,  the  devil  is 
coming  !  ").  The  Indians  firmly  believed  that 
the  man-eaters  were  the  incarnation  of  some 
terrible  cannibal  chiefs  belonging  to  one  of  the 
old  African  tribes,  who  had  taken  this  form  in 
order  to  avenge  themselves  and  show  their 
resentment  at  a  railway  being  made  through 
their  country. 

The  warning  cries  would  be  of  no  avail,  how- 
ever, for  agonizing  shrieks  would  sooner  or  later 
break  the  silence  and  another  man  would  be 
a-missing  next  morning. 

I  felt  very  much  disheartened  at  being  foiled 
night  after  night.  Tracking  the  lions  through 
the  dense  jungle  during  the  day  was  a  hopeless 
task,  but  still  something  had  to  be  done  to  keep 
up  the  spirits  of  the  workmen,  so  I  spent  many 
a  weary  hour  crawling 
on  my  hands  and  knees 
through  the  dense  vege- 
tation, endeavouring  to 
track  the  brutes  through 
that  exasperating  wilder- 
ness. Had  I  met  them 
they  would  most  pro- 
bably have  devoured 
me  too,  as  everything 
would  have  been  in 
their  favour. 

I  have  a  vivid  recol- 
lection of  one  particular 
night  when  the  brutes 
took  a  man  from  the 
railway  station  and 
brought  him  close  to 
my  camp  to  eat.  The 
noise  of  their  dreadful 
purring  filled  the  air 
and  rang  in  my  ears  for 
days  afterwards.  It  was 
hopeless  to  attempt  to 
go  out,  as  the  night 
was  pitch-dark.  There 
were  half-a-dozen  men 
inside  a  small  thorn 
fence  close  beside 
mine,  and  on  hearing 
the  lions  they  got  fright- 
ened and  implored  me 

Vol.  X.-2. 


to  let  them  in,  which  I  did.  A  short  lime  after- 
wards I  remembered  that  there  was  a  sick  man 
in  their  camp,  and  on  asking  it  they  had 
brought  him  in  they  said  "No."  I  at  once 
took  some  men  and  went  after  him.  On 
reaching  the  dark  tent  I  went  in  and  lifted  the 
coverlet,  but  saw  by  the  light  of  the  lantern 
that  the  invalid  was  dead.  The  poor  fellow 
must  have  died  of  fright  after  hearing  all  his 
comrades  flee  away  from  the  savage  lions  to  a 
place  of  safety. 

Matters  were  now  getting  desperate.  As  a 
rule,  up  to  this  time,  only  one  of  the  lions  went 
into  a  boma  and  did  the  foraging  while  the 
other  waited  outside,  but  now  they  changed 
their  tactics  ;  both  entered  together,  and  each 
seized  a  man  ! 

Two  poor  Swahili  porters  were  killed  in  this 
way  one  night  in  the  last  week  of  November. 

On  November  30th  the  two  lions  made 
another  successful  raid  within  a  hundred  yards 
of  a  permanent  way  inspector's  hut.  I  could 
plainly  hear  from  my  hut  the  commotion  and  the 
terrified  shrieking  of  the  coolies.  The  inspector 
fired  over  fifty  shots  in  the  direction  of  the  lions, 
but  so  bold  were  they  that  they  did  not  attempt 
to  move,  but  calmly  lay  there  until  daylight. 


BOTH    ENTERED   TOliETMEK.    ANO    EACH    SEIZED   A    MAN 


lO 

T     . 


THE   WIDE   WORLD   MAGAZINE. 


A 


rhat 


with   herc< 


be  a  lion  cub. 

■  '•d  it  to  be 

.,wiic  taken  the 


:>  the  world,  much  less 

'    id  this   kind  of 

.1    all  surpri-sed, 

fi  to  camp  this  same  after- 

"    '  that  all  the 

_        ;:;i^  to  speak 

e  and  stated  that  they  would 

^er.     They  said  "  they 

an  agreement  to  work 

it,  but  not  to  su|)ply  food  for 

1    the    first 

ls   on    the 

on  to  the  trucks  and 

■»ns  anyhow,  they  fled 


.  .-ht  to  see  tliem  perched  on  top  of  water-tanks. 
roofs,  and  girders — anywhere  for  safety.  Some 
even  dug  deep  pits  inside  their  tents,  into  which 
they  let  themselves  down  at  night,  covering  over 
the  top  with  heavy  logs  of  tniiber. 

Every  good-sized  tree  in  camp  had  as  many 
ijL-ds  lashed  on  to  it  as  its  branches  could  bear, 
and  sometimes  more.  So  many  men  got  up  a 
tree  once  when  the  camp  was  attacked  that  the 
tree  came  down  with  a  crash,  burling  its  terror- 
stricken  load  of  shrieking  coolies  close  to  the 
lions.  Fortunately,  however,  the  brutes  did  not 
heed  them,  as  they  were  then  busily  engaged  in 
devouring  a  man  they  had  just  seized. 


CHAPTER    III. 

\VH.\T     H.APPENED     TO     THE     DISTRICT 
CO.M.MISSIONER. 

Some  days  before  the  workmen  fled  I  had 
applied  for  a  couple  of  armed  police  to  be  put 
into  each  camp  in  order  to  give  confidence  to 
the  men.  I  had  also  asked  Mr.  Whitehead, 
the  District  Commissioner,  to  come  up  and 
bring  any  of  his  Askaris  (native  soldiers)  that 
he  could  spare.  He  wrote  saying  that  he  was 
coming,  and  I  expected  him  to  arrive  in  time 
for  dinner  on  the  evening  of  December  2nd. 

The    train    was    due    about  six   o'clock,  so  I 


11     ;inft 


ir.ju 


\rhoio. 

^ ,'".  "ly  "  I'oy  "  up  to  the  station  to  meet   Mr. 

Ulutehead    and    assist    in    carrving    his    things 

'lovyn      He  returned  trembling  with  terror.      He 

there  was  no  sign  of  the  train  or  of  the  station 

■••'•'■,  but  that  an  enormous  lion  was  standing  on 

•1"-  i'lntform  !     I  did  not    believe  thi.s,  and  told 

I     found    out    next    day,    however, 

"'■'I    H    was    cjuile    true,     and     that     both     the 


THE    MAN-EATERS    OF    TSAVO. 


II 


station-master  and  tlie  signaluKin  had  been 
oblii^ed  to  take  refuge  from  tlie  man-eater  by 
locking  themselves  up  in  the  station  buildings. 

I  waited  some  time  for  Mr.  \Vhitehead,  but  as 
he  did  not  turn  up  I  thought  Iic  had  decided 
not  to  come  that  evening,  and  so  had  my  dinner, 
as  usual,  m  solitary  state.  ].)uring  the  meal  I 
heard  a  couple  of  shots,  but  paid  no  attention  to 
them,  as  shots  were  constantly  being  fired  in 
the  camp.  After  dinner  I  went  out  alone 
to  watch  for  my  friends  the  lions.  On  this 
particular  night  I  sat  up  on  a  sleeper  crib, 
which    I    had    had   built  on   a   big   girder  that 


IHK    CRlli    MADK    ul     SLEEPEKS,  WHENCE  THE  AfTHOK    HEARD   THE 
J-'lO/ll  a]  MR.    whitehead's   SERGEANT,    ABDULLAH. 

was  close  to  a  "likely"  camp  for  the  lions 
to  attack.  Soon  after  taking  up  my  position  1 
was  surprised  to  hear  the  two  lions  growling  and 
purring  over  something  quite  close  to  where  I 
was  sitting.  I  could  not  understand  it,  for  I 
had  heard  no  commotion  in  camp — and  by 
bitter  ex[)erience  I  knew  that  every  meal  the 
brutes  got  meant  trouble  for  us.  After  a  lime 
I  saw  their  eyes  glowing  in  the  dark  and 
promptly  fired  at  them.  They  then  took  what- 
ever they  were  eating  and  went  over  a  small 
rise  which  prevented  me  from  seeing  them  and 
there  finished  their  meal. 

As  soon  as  it  was  light  I  got  out  of  my  crib 
and  went  towards  the  place  where  I  had  last 
seen  them.  On  the  way,  who  should  I  meet 
but  Mr.  Whitehead,  the  District  Commissioner. 
He  looked  very  pale  and  ill,  and  his  general 
ap{)earance  was  strange.  "  Where  on  earth 
have  you  come  from  ?  "  I  said.  "  Why  didn't 
you  turn  up  to  dinner  last  night?"'  "A  nice 
reception  you  give  a  fellow  when  yuu  invite 
him  to  dinner,"  he  replied.  "  Why,  what's  up?" 
I  said.  "That  infernal  lion  of  yours  jumped 
on    me   last    night,"    said   \Vhitehea(l.       "Non- 


sense, you  dreamt  it !  "  I  cried,  in  astonishment. 
For  answer  he  turned  round  and  showed  me  his 
back.      "That  is  not  much  of  a  dream,  is  it?" 
he  asked,    laconically.       His  clothing  was  split 
right   from   the   nape  of   his   neck    downwards, 
and  on  the  flesh  there  were  four  huge  claw  marks 
showing  red  and  angry  through  the  torn  cloth. 
Without  further  parley  1  hurried  him  off  to  my 
tent  and  bathed  and  dressed  his  wounds.     He 
then   told    me    the    whole    story    of    what    had 
happened.      His  train,  it  api)ears,  was  very  late, 
and  it  was  quite  dark  when  he  arrived  at  Tsavo. 
In  order  to  reach   my  camp  he   had   to   come 
through  a  cutting.    He  was  accom- 
panied by  Abdullah,  his  sergeant 
of  Askaris  (native  soldiers),  who 
carried    a    lighted    lamp.       When 
they  were  about  half-way  through 
the   gloomy   cutting    one   of    the 
lions  suddenly  jum[)ed  down  from 
the  high   bank  right  on  to  White- 
head,  knocking    him   over   like  a 
ninepin   and  tearing  the  clothing 
off  his  back.       Fortunately,  how- 
ever, Whitehead  had  his  carbine 
in  his  hand,  and  this,  he  instantly 
fired..   The  iiash  and  loud  report 
must    have    dazed   the  lion   for  a 
second,    enabling    ^Vhitehead    to 
disengage   himself,    but   the   next 
instant    the    brute    pounced    like 
lightning      on      the      unfortunate 
Abdullah,    with    whom    he    made 
off.     Whitehead  lired  again  at  the 
lion  as  he  was  going  off,  but  apparently  missed. 
This  was  the  District  Commissioner's  welcome 
to  Tsavo  I 

It  was,  of  course,  poor  Abdullah  that  1  had 
heard  the  brutes  eating  during  the  night. 
Whitehead  himself  had  had  a  marvellous  escape. 
Fortunately  his  wounds  were  not  deep,  and 
caused  him  little  or  no  trouble  afterwards. 

On  tins  .same  day,  December  3rd,  Mr. 
Farquhar,  the  superintendent  of  police,  and  a 
score  of  Sepoys  arrived  from  the  coast  to  help 
in  hunting  down  the  lions,  whose  reputation 
had  now  spread  far  and  wide.  I^laborate  pre- 
cautions were  taken  and  Sepoys  were  posted  on 
trees  near  every  camp.  The  lion  trap  was  put 
in  thorough  order,  and  three  of  the  Sejioys  were 
placed  in  it  as  "bait."  Several  ofticials  had  also 
come  up  to  join  in  the  hunt,  and  each  watched 
a  likely  spot,  Mr.  ^^■hitehead  sh.nring  a  post 
with  me. 

In  the  evening,  at  about  i;  p.m.,  to  ms  gn.it 
satisfaction,  the  intense  silence  was  broken  by 
the  noise  of  the  trap-door  clattering  down.  One 
of  the  lions  had  charged  on  the  Se[)oys  and  was 
caught  at  last,     'i'he  men   had   .t    'mih.  biinung 


LIONS    WHICH    SEIZED 

[P/to/o. 


THK    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


..j.iii.i.i  rifle  and 

had  been  given 

jn  if  it  should  enter 

llowe^cf,  mey  were  so  terrified  when 


How  they  failed  to  kill  him  is  a  mystery,  as 
they  could  have  put  the  muzzles  of  their  rifles 
right  on  to  his  body.  There  was  some  blood  scat- 
tered about  the  trap,  and  it  was  some  consola- 


un.    OHnCHKAO.   TM»   DISTKICT  COMMISSIONER,   SEATF.D  ON    A  TROl.I.EY   AT   THE    EXACT   SPOT    WHERE  THE 
f,jm  a]  LION   JUMPED  OS    HIM.  [P/to!0. 


to 


-d    themselves. 


I  in  and  began  to  dash  him- 

the  bars   of  the   cross-wail 

t   their  heads  and  were  too 

It  was  not  for  some  minutes, 

.1     ..  j^  close  by,  had  called 

;   ihem   on,   that  they 

Then    they   began    to 

anywhere,    anyhow. 

a  right  angles  to  the 

ihey  should  have  fired,  yet 

us.      They  fired  over 

Mt    the   end    with    one 

'•   :»w.iv  one  of  the  door- 


tion  to  us  to  know  that  the  beast  had  at  least 
been  wounded. 

Next  morning  we  arranged  a  hunt,  and  spent 
the  greater  part  of  the  next  day  on  our  hands 
and  knees,  following  the  lions  through  the  dense 
thickets  of  thorny  jungle.  We  never  got  up  with 
them,  however,  though  we  heard  growls,  and  only 
Earquhar  of  the  whole  party  caught  a  momentary 
glimpse  of  one  as  it  bounded  over  a  bush. 

A  couple  of  days  were  spent  in  this  manner, 
but  without  any  success,  and  then  Mr.  Farquhar 
and  his  Sepoys  departed  to  the  coast.  Mr. 
Whitehead  also  returned  to  his  district,  and 
I  was  left  alone  once  more  with  the  man-eaters. 


rcinarkaldc  narrnlive  will  be  published  next  month.      It  describes 

il''  ;    how  the  second  commenced  a  campaign  of  revenge  against 

iCNult  thai  the  reign  of  terror  these  brutes  had  established 

'   '.lycd  railway.     As  in  this  instalment,  the  narrative  will  be 

ilitable  man-eaters  themselves.] 


Garavan   Isife    in    tde    f{ew    D^orest. 

By  M.   Arnold. 

Caravan    life    is    becoming    increasingly   popular   among  those  who  like    to  get  as    much    fresh    air  as 

possible    while    on   their   holidays.      The  author  has  had   much    experience  of   "caravanning,"  and   he 

here    describes    a   typical    day    in    a    recent    holiday    spent    with    a    caravan    in    the    delightful    and    all- 

too-little-kiiown  New  Forest.       The   article  is  illustrated  with  Mr.  Arnold's  own  photographs. 


OW,   then,    you    lazy    beggars,    get 


up 


I " 


The  voice  i.s  the  skipper's,  and 
causes  several  grunts  of  dissent 
from  various  heaps  of  rugs  and 
pillows  dotted  about  the  tent.  However,  the 
skipper  threatens  direful  results  if  we  don't  turn 
out,  and  as  he  is  a  man  of  his  word,  and 
6ft.  3in.  at  that,  we  comply  with  his  commands 
and,  opening  the  door  of  the  tent,  step  out  into 
the  sunshine. 

It  is  6.30  on  a  lovely  August  morning,  and 
we  are  a  portion  of  a  happy,  irresponsible  little 
party  travelling  through  the  New  Forest  in  a 
caravan.  The  ladies  of  the  party  are  in  the 
caravan  just  at  the  back  of  our  tent,  and  as  we 
pass  by  on  the  way  to  the  bath  we  chaff  them 
on  their  sleepiness. 

Although  it  is  a  glorious  morning,  it  is  the 
latter  end  of  August,  and  there  is  a  decidedly 
keen  feeling  in  the  air,  and  the  bath  looks  cold. 
Our  toilet  is  soon  over,  however,  for  we  do  not 
affect  collars  and  ties  until 
we  get  out  of  camp. 

There  is  a  good  deal  of 
noise  made  by  pouring  the 
water  out  of  the  bath  inio 
the  buckets  and  back  again 
to  let  the  girls  know  they 
are  having  fresh  water,  and 
then  we  retire  to  the  back 
of  the  van  to  shave,  whilst 
the  ladies  occupy  the  bath 
tent.  Meanwhile  the  cook 
has  got  the  fire  well  under 
way,  and  is  deftly  cutting 
ham  rashers  with  an  axe. 
'I'o  the  ordinary  individual 
this  may  seem  rather  a 
crude  way  of  carving,  but 
a  thoroughly  experienced 
woodman  can  do  anything, 
from  cutting  down  a  tree 
to   pointing   his    pencil,    if  /-/cma] 


only  his  axe  is  sharp  enough,  and  to  a  man  with 
a  large  family  I  can  thoroughly  recommend  an 
axe  and  a  chopping-board  for  carving,  rather 
than  the  more  civilized  carving-knife.  However, 
please  do  not  think  I  have  any  other  "axe  to 
grind  "  in  this  matter ;  I  do  not  own  shares  in 
a  hatchet  manufactory  ! 

The  skipper  has  meanwhile  gone  off  lo  feed 
the  two  horses,  which  are  tied  to  a  tree  close  at 
hand,  and  the  ladies,  having  completed  their 
toilet,  come  out  looking  as  fresh  as  only  clean 
white  blouses  and  life  in  the  open  air  can  make 
them,  and  start  laying  the  breakfast  table. 

The  cook  comes  in  for  a  good  deal  of  abuse 
at  the  hands  of  the  ladies  because  he  is  so  long 
getting  breakfast  ready,  but  as  they  can't  have 
their  breakfast  until  he  chooses  to  give  it  them 
he  has  the  upper  hand,  and  retaliates  by  setting 
one  of  the  girls  to  beat  up  eggs  and  another 
to  keep  the  porridge  from  burning.  Soon  every- 
thing is  ready  and  peace  restored.  It  is  a 
hungry  party  of  eight,  four  of  each  sex,  who  sit 


I.AVIXC    THE    BRfcA^rA^i. 


I  /•/,../.'. 


«4 


TlIK    \y^^'^-     ^vnRT,D    MAGAZINE. 


lit— and  a  very 


tea 


At  une  time 


111   llic 

.  cither 

1     it  or 

;f.,tun:  wanted 

so     I 
-d    at 
r  the  slwide  of 

he  other  in  the  sun,  and 
„..d. 

I  is  created  by  one  of  the 

r  has  come  undone,  waiider- 

'    •:     -ing  the  top  of  the 

■  c  to  last  us  till  we 

me,  and  so  breakfast  has  to 

.  out  »iiu  L>iscuits,  and  very  dry  ones  at 

I  deal  of  discussion  as  to 

the   day.     Some  of  the 

•   '  '    Puldewood,    where 

1  avery  convenient 

ist  year;  but  the  others,  who 

•    in   them  and  don't 

than  is  necessary,  arc 

imp  for  another  day 

■  t    oJ    the    country."      This, 

■' '-'  '"  excuse  to  work,  as 

.'.    all   day    in    the 

>;.     So  eventually  a  com- 
...  I  ..     .^  Yin^^ 

a  Kood  deal  of  work 

!•  ready  for 

:■■'■:    breakfast 

I  the  cook  has 

which    he 

'  •    '    ''..re. 

.  be 

and  then 

'     'I'j   rurcii  lu  iiavc  u  look 


(.i:tiin<;  iii:ADY  to  .strike  camp. 


Whoto. 


:now  the   New  Forest 
pan  of 


hundred  thousand  acres  in  extent,  and  is  of 
three  distinct  kinds.  There  is  the  open  heather 
forest  like  a  Scotch  moor,  the  part  composed 
entirely  of  dark  Scotch  firs ;  and  last,  but  not 
least,  the  beautiful  oak-tree  forest,  with  open 
grass  glades  and  bracken  fern.  This  is  one's 
true  idea  of  a  forest,  and  it  needs  little  imagina- 
tion to  take  one  back  once  more  to  the  stirring 
times  of  Robin  Hood  and  his  merry  outlaws. 

One  of  the  features  of  the  Forest  are  its  ponies, 
of  which  there  are  several  thousand  running 
about  practically  wild.  Some  little  excitement 
is  caused  by  one  of  the  party  wagering  that  he 
will  catch  and  ride  one  of  a  herd  which  is 
quietly  cropping  the  grass  along  the  edge  of  the 
stream.  Everybody  is  anxious  to  bet  with  him. 
considering  the  result  a  foregone  conclusion. 
As,  however,  the  would-be  horsebreaker  never 
even  manages  to  get  close  enough  to  be  kicked 
the  excitement  soon  fizzles  out,  and  the  ponies 
go  off  at  a  canter  to  some  other  spot,  where  they 
will  not  be  annoyed  by  the  presence  of  human 
beings  or  other  strange  beasts. 

By  this  time  the  sun  is  overhead,  and  we 
stroll  back  to  camp  to  find  that  the  ladies  have 
been  no  more  energetic  than  we  have,  but  have 
been  sitting  in  the  shade,  readuig  the  new  books 
from  Mudie's  box  which  we  brought  with  us. 
'I'he  only  clock  which  a  gipsy  wants  is  his  ap[)e- 
tite,  and  ours  soon  tells  us  that  it  must  be  near 
lunch-tin)e,  so  the  table  is  laid  out  and  a  start 
made.  Lunch  is  a  fairly  frugal  meal  of  cold 
meat,  cheese,  tomatoes,  and  the  inevitable 
sardines,  our  early  breakfast  and  the  open  air 
giving  us  all  the  sauce  needed.  After  lunch  the 
''••Us  are  struck  and  packed  up,  the  hammock 
led  and  fitted  into  the  scjuare  bath,  which 
slides  in  on  a  platform  between  the  fore  and 


1 


CARAVAN    LIFE    IX    THE    NEW    FOREST. 


'S 


hind  wheels  of  the  van.     Then  the  horses  are 
harnessed  and  a  start  is  made. 

Some  of  the  party  bave  brought  bicycles, 
and  these  ride  on  ahead,  having  first  stopped 
to  help  the  van  over  a  nasty  bank  and  ditch 
before  we  can  get  into  the  high  road.  The  map 
has  to  be  consulted,  and  then  we  make  a  move 
to  the  nearest  village  to  lay  in  a  stock  of 
provisions  for  the  next  day.  For  the  first 
lew  miles  the  road  leads  through  the  open 
forest,  with  very  few  trees  about,  and  there  is 
no  house  to  be  seen  for  miles  around  ;  tlien  we 
pass  through  a  little  straggling  village,  with 
thatched  and  rose-covered  cottages  dotted  about 
the  village  green,  and  the  occupants  turn  out 
to  have  a  look  at  us.  We  make  inquiries  as  to 
the  chance  of  buying  provisions,  and  find  that 
we  have  some 
miles  to  go  be- 
fore we  get  to  a 
town  of  any  size, 
so  we  jog  on 
again  through 
rapidly  chang- 
ing scenery. 

Presently  we 
catch  up  the 
cyclists,  who  are 
grouped  round 
one  of  the 
bicycles,  whose 
deflated  tyre 
shows  a  bad 
puncture. 
Luckily  there  is 
plenty  of  india- 
rubber  in  the 
tool-box  inside 
the  van,  and  a 
neat  repair  is 
effected.      Very 

few  days  go  by  without  a  mishap  to  one 
or  o'.her  of  the  cycles,  but  considering  the 
knocl  ing  about  they  get  this  is  not  to  be 
wondered  at. 

The  puncture  mended  we  start  on  again,  and 
soon  the  broad  expanse  of  heather  gives  place 
to  glorious  old  British  oak  trees,  whilst  here  and 
there  a  Spanish  chestnut  shows  its  brilliant 
green  leaves  down  a  sunny  glade.  The  rabbits 
scuttle  across  in  front  of  the  van,  the  Forest 
ponies  canter  off  under  the  trees  wondering  who 
dares  to  disturb  their  sanctuary,  and  the  beauty 
of  the  scene  fills  one  with  the  joy  of  living, 
which  cannot  be  realized  by  dwellers  in  stuffy 
houses.  \Ve  have  the  regular  gipsy  contempt 
for  "  roof-people." 

A  shout  behind  us  makes  us  clear  to  the  side 
of  the  road  to  allow  a  carriage  and  pair  to  pass 


From  a\ 


ON    THE    ROAU — A    HALT    BY   THE    WAYSIDE. 


us,  and  as  they  go  by  the  occupants,  two 
elderly  ladies  with  lorgnettes,  turn  round  and 
have  a  good  stare  at  us.  'Iheir  conversation 
floats  back  as  they  turn  round,  and  we 
chuckle  over  one  old  dowager's  remark  that  "  it 
is  a  curious  M-ay  of  going  about,  and  they  look 
quite  respectable  people,  too  ! " 

We  always  cause  a  good  deal  of  discussion, 
by  the  way,  as  to  what  v.e  are  and  why  we  are 
travelling  in  a  caravan,  the  most  common 
theories  being  that  we  are  either  the  Church 
Army  van  or  a  troupe  of  strolling  actors,  which 
goes  to  show  that  even  in  the  fastnes.ses  of  the 
New  Forest  the  Church  and  Stage  go  hand  in 
hand. 

Several  carts  and  carriages  pass  us  now,  and 
we  find  that  we  are  approaching  the  outskirts  of 

a     small    town. 
-.  The    streets  are 

quaint  and  old- 
fashioned,  and 
the  shops  not 
quite  like  Lon- 
don, but  we 
have  to  "  pro- 
vision up "  for 
two  days,  and 
must  make  the 
best  of  it.  So 
the  cook  and  the 
housekeeper  put 
their  heads  to- 
gether  and 
decide  what  is 
wanted,  and 
then  we  all  go 
off  different 
ways  to  lay  in 
our  stock. 

T  he  p  o  s  t  - 
office  has  also 
to  be  visited  to  call  for  any  letters  that  may 
have  arrived,  and  post-cards  dispatched  to 
home  quarters  giving  some  post-office  for  our 
next  address.  Then  the  horses  go  on  with  a 
jingle  of  bells,  leaving  an  admiring  and  wonder- 
ing group  of  spectators  behind.  There  is  a 
steady  pull  uphill  for  a  mile  or  so,  and  then 
a  steep  run  down,  where  both  the  drag-shoe 
and  brake  have  to  be  used.  According  to  the 
maps  there  should  be  a  stream  at  the  bottom 
anil  a  good  camping-place. 

Our  hopes  are,  however,  raised  in  vain,  for 
when  we  arrive  at  the  bottom  we  find  the 
cyclists  sitting  in  a  disconsolate  little  group  on 
the  banks  of  a  stream  in  which  the  water  is  only 
conspicuous  by  its  absence,  and  the  chance  of 
tea  just  yet  looks  a  bit  remote. 

The  map  shows  another  siream  a  icu    niiles 


{riioto. 


lb 


THE     V, 


U-ORLD    MAGAZINE. 


the  cvcliiis 


rward 

to  recon- 

le  open 
cyclists 

and 

a  promise 

:.::iu.\   11 


ar 


IS  to  get  a  fire  lighted 
...Mi  viien,  whilst  that  is  boil- 
thc  table  and  the  nien  get 
run  up  the  sleeping  and  bath 

it  their  tea  badly  and 
when  the  ski[)per 


New  Forest,  which  have  been  handed  down 
from  father  to  son,  and  gathered  force  in  the 
transfer. 

A  "  viewhalloa "  from  the  cook,  however, 
tells  us  that  he  is  in  need  of  help,  and  we  stroll 
back  into  camp.  The  latter  looks  very  pic- 
turesque as  we  approach  it.  The  white  caravan 
and  tents  under  the  huge  oak  trees,  with  the 
camp  fire  sending  a  thin  line  of  blue  smoke 
up  to  the  sky,  is  as  pretty  a  scene  as  one  can 
want,  and  the  little  sparkling  stream  which 
winds  its  way  through  the  heather  and  bog 
myrtle  beyond  puts  a  finishing  touch  to  the 
picture.  The  cook  requires  more  wood  and 
the  help  of  the  skipper  to  skin  a  hare,  which  is 
to  form  the  pure  de  resistance  of  the  evening 
meal.  At  one  time  we  were  not  very  skilful  in 
this  operation.     But  practice  makes  perfect,  and 


A\  but  tea 
i  to  find  a 
r  a  .sprcad- 
which  thin 
"i  at  all. 
"f  i.itn,  to 
ind 


lie, 


I  IKE    LIGHTED    AND    THE    KETTLE  ON." 
II    I'lioto. 

now  a  London  poulterer  could  not  beat  us  for 
cjuickness  and  dexterity.  The  hare,  having  been 
divested  of  its  skin,  is  carefully  disjointed  with 
the  indispensable  axe,  and  then  well  browned 
in  the  frying  -  j)an  before  being  put  into  the 
•stew-pot  for  the  final  cooking.  Dinner  is  ready 
at  aboiit  eight  o'clock,  and  we  sit  down  in  the 
open  air  to  a  meal  which  takes  a  lot  of  beating. 
The  dinner  is  not  dished  up,  but  served  straight 
from  the  pots  in  which  it  is  cooked,  and  for  this 
reason  is  so  hot  that  the  unwary  man,  new  to 
camping  out,  will  probably  gain  experience  by 
a  1)11, nt  tongue,  which  will  last  him  for  some 
da\ 

I  Ik:  stars  are  now  coming  out,  and   the  air 

'''•    '  '   pleasantly  cool   after  the  heat  of 

I    o^  ^Te  heaped  on   to  the  fire,  and 

'dy  sets  to  work  to  clear  the  tables  and 

'lip  ready  for  the  night.      I'he  ladies 

plates  and  dishes,  the  cook   cleans 


I :.,. 


CARAVAN    LIFI-:    IN    THE    NEW    FORES  r 


'7 


his  pots  and  pans  whilst  he  has  plenty  of  hot 
water  on  hand,  and  the  rest  give  a  last  look  to 
the  horses,  and  get  the  rugs  and  pillows  out  of 
the  van  and  put  them  into  the  tent  ready  for 
use. 

As  soon  as  it  gets  dark  a  "Wells  flarer,"  which 
burns  paraffin  vapour,  is  hung  ui)  on  a  [lolc  in 
the  middle  of  the  camp,  and  when  lit  throws  a 
light  over  everything. 

Work  is  over,  and  the  pleasantest  time  of  the 
day  is  at  hand.  The  hammock  chairs  are  put 
in  a  semicircle  round  the  camp  fire,  a  canvas 
sheet  run  round  the  back  of  them  to  keep 
the  draught  away,  and  pipes  and  tobacco  are 
brought  out.  The  cook  completes  his  work 
by  handing  round  black  coffee  and  liqueurs, 
and  we  give  ourselves  up  to  an  hour  or  so  of 
unalloyed  peace,  under  the  open  air  of  heaven. 
The  nightingales  have  not  yet  left  off  singing, 
and  the  beauty  of  their  note  is  heard  at  its  best 
away  in  these  deep  solitudes,  miles  from 
human  habitation.  The  short  bark  of  a  fox  far 
away  in  the  distance  gives  promise  of  sport 
in  a  few  months'  time,  and  the  timorous 
neighing  of  a  Forest  pony,  which  is  trying 
to  find  its  companions,  sounds  musical  in  the 
distance,  and  merely  accentuates  the  peaceful 
feeling  which  the  surroundings  and  a  good 
dinner  have  given  us.  No  one  who  has  led 
the  caravan  life  for  a  short  time  can  wonder  at 
gipsies  spending  their  life  in  the  same  manner. 
It  is  the  ideal  life  for  anyone  who  loves  Nature 
and  the  open  air,  and  one  gets  into  such  a  state 
of  "  rude  health  "  that  rain  or  shine  makes  but 
little  difference. 

Your  house  you  take  with  you,  and  you  stop 
where  you  like,  provided  there  is  plenty  of  wood 
and  water  handy ;  you  eat  when  you  are  hungry, 
sleep  when  you  are  tired,  and 
you  snap   your    fingers    at    the 
petty  ordinances  of  society. 

A  short  description  of  our 
caravan  and  how  it  is  fitted 
may  be  of  interest  to  Wide 
World  readers. 

The  van  was  built  by  the 
Birmingham  Waggon  Company, 
and  is  made  of  mahogany 
throughout.  It  is  12ft.  6in.  by 
6ft.  3in.  inside  measurement, 
and  wlien  packed  weighs  about 
I  ton  lycwt.  The  entrance  is 
at  the  front  of  the  van,  where 
there  is  a  platform  with  seats 
for  five  people,  protected  from 
sun  and  rain  by  a  hood  formed 
by  a  continuation  of  the  roof. 
There  are  lockers  on  all 
sides    of    the   van,    which    also 

Vol.  X.-3. 


form  seats,  and  two  of  these,  being  fitted  with 
mattresses,  make  bertiis  for  sleeping  in.  There 
is  also  an  upper  berth  on  the  side  opposite  the 
door,  which,  when  not  in  use,  lies  flat  against 
the  wall.  Three  of  the  party  can  sleep  com- 
fortably in  these  berths,  and  the  fourth  sleeps 
on  a  mattress  laid  on  the  floor  up  the  centre  of 
the  van. 

One  of  the  tables  folds  up  and  slides  under 
the  van  between  the  fore  and  hind  wheels,  and 
makes  a  platform  for  the  scjuare  tin  bath,  which 
carries  the  other  folding  table  and  half-a-dozen 
hammock  chairs  when  on  the  road.  The  bath 
tent  is  a  small,  square,  home-made  one,  and 
when  folded  up  goes  on  the  rack  at  the  back 
of  the  van,  as  does  the  sleeping  tent,  which  is 
an  old  Army  bell  tent. 

The  seats  in  front  of  the  van  form  corn-bins, 
where  the  oats  and  chaff  for  the  two  horses  are 
kept,  and  a  spare  sack  of  oats  and  one  of 
potatoes  and  other  vegetables  are  put  on  the 
rack  behind.  All  the  cooking-pots  go  into  a 
"cook  box"  underneath  the  back  of  the  van, 
and  this  box  also  carries  anything  in  the  way  of 
spare  boots  and  other  litter  not  wanted  inside. 
The  tent-poles  and  the  pole  which  carries  the 
"  Wells  light "  sling  on  to  the  sides  of  the  van, 
and  the  water-buckets  hang  on  to  hooks  under- 
neath. 

The  windows  of  the  van  are  leaded  lattices, 
which  we  rescued  from  an  old  tumlile-down 
cottage  and  fitted  ourselves,  and  the  sun- 
blinds,  which  let  down  from  the  roof,  keep  the 
van  cool  when  travelling.  The  van  cost  about 
;^20o  when  new,  and  is  painted  white,  with 
green  wheels,  and  the  animals  are  two  fine  cart- 
horses, standing  nearly  seventeen  hands  high. 
These    wear    on    their    harness   all    the    brass 


From  a\ 


THE  COOK    I'RBPARKS   OINNEK. 


\rhet*. 


i8 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


ixappings  and  bells  that  we  can  procure,  ar.d 

nuke  a  brave  '      road.      This 

J ,   V,,.  ,,.  ..^ -ly  clean,  and 

.  i  up  till   it   dazzles   the 

r  <y  with  Its  I 

•     '  •'  .a. lion  is  usually  divided 

rty.     One  man  does  all 

tlwr  cooScing  and  provisioning,  which  keeps  him 


old  great-coat  is  often  useful  when  sitting  about 

the  camp. 

What  tales  are  told  round  the  camp  fire,  and 
what  a  lot  of  fun  is  afforded  by  the  ordinary 
little  incidents  of  the  day's  journey  !  However, 
all  things  must  come  to  an  end,  and  the  fact 
that  three  or  four  of  our  members  have  fallen 
asleep  in  their  chairs  and  that  the  fire  has  burnt 


I  AlJIKs    MIAKl- 


TilK    LABOUR   Ol 

From  a  Photo. 


employed  ;  another  has  to  groom  and  look 

'  ihe  two  horses,  and  do  any  odd  jobs  of 

mciuiing  which  crop  up; 

...  ;    ;..cn  divide  the  labour  of 

water  and    hewing   wood,    neither  of 

As  the  hewer  of  wood 

n  the  morning  the  job  of 

ills  to  him,  and  he  and 

r  liave  to  fold  up  the  tents  and 

'•  I-:i."  <ainp. 

-     .    ..ibour  of  washing  and 

and  the  btter,  with  the  more  or  less 

)sal,  has  to  be  done 

*■  w«ir,  as  a  distinctive  mark,  grey 

'•c"  round  them, 

ri,  with   l)recchcs 

.  short  skirts  and 

the  most  .suitable  dress, 

'    when    on    the    road 


.1,1 


an 


down  to  a  red  glow,  shows  that  it  is  bed-time  ; 
and,  with  a  thousand  regrets  that  one  more  day 
of  our  fortnight's  holiday  is  gone,  we  get  up  to 
prepare  for  bed.  The  fire  has  to  be  completely 
buried  with  turf — to  insure  a  good  blaze  for 
breakfast  and  to  stop  the  chance  of  the  sparks 
blowing  about  and  setting  the  adjacent  heather 
alight — and  then  we  retire  to  rest.  The  ladies 
disappear  into  the  caravan,  the  men  make  for 
tlie  tent,  all  thoroughly  tired  out  with  our  day 
in  the  open  air. 

The  tent  is  laced  up  both  inside  and  outside, 
and  the  last  man  has  to  turn  out  the  light  and 
creep  in  under  the  walls.  There  is  a  certain 
amount  of  good-humoured  fighting  for  the  softest 
pillows  and  warmest  rugs,  and  then  silence  reigns 
supreme  in  our  little  camp.  We  sleep  the  sleep 
of  the  just,  undisturbed  by  the  Forest  ponies 
and  the  occasional  cow  or  pig  which  tumbles 
over  the  tent  ropes,  at  intervals,  in  its  meander- 
ings  to  new  pastures.     And  this  is  caravan  life  ! 


Madame  Sarah  Bernhardt's  Alligator  Hunt. 

By  Frederic  Moore. 

A  hitherto  unrecorded  incident  in  the  life  of  the  great  actress.  Whilst  in  New  Orleans  Madame 
Bernhardt  visited  the  emporium  of  an  alligator  dealer,  and  suddenly  took  it  into  her  head  that  she 
would  like  to  catch  an  alligator  for  herself.  To  this  end  she  made  a  trip  by  night  out  to  one  of  the 
great  "  bayous,"  or  swamps,  back  of  the  city,  and  there,  under  the  guidance  of  an  experienced  hunter, 
she  captured  a  loft.  monster,  who  made  things  exceedingly  lively  for  the  members  of  the  party  until 
he  was  secured.     A  photograph  of  Madame  Bernhardt's  alligator  is  reproduced  with  the  story. 


Hl'2  divine  Sarah,"  while  on  her 
tours,  is  always  interested  in  strange 
and  curious  people,  places,  and 
things.  While  fulfilling  a  week's 
engagement  at  New  Orleans  last 
year  she  spent  her  afternoons  wandering  about 
\n  the  quaint  Creole  quarters  of  that  city.  On 
one  of  her  jaunts  she  happened  to  stroll  into  an 
alligator  vendor's  establishment,  in  a  dingy 
'thoroughfare  known  as  Charters  Street.  This 
establishment  makes  a  speciality  of  supplying 
tourists  from  colder  climates  with  li\ing  souvenirs 
of  the  district  in  the  shape  of  little  black  alli- 
gators that  have  just  shaken  off  their  shells. 

The  men  who  live  out  in  the  great  dismal 
swamps  and  capture  alligators  and  their  young 
for  distribution— the  former  for  sale  to  men- 
ageries  and  the  latter   as   souvenirs — are  of  a 


strange  stock  known  as"Cajuns"  (an  abbrevi- 
ation of  "Acadians,''  by  whom  the  territory  of 
Louisiana  was  largely  settled  during  the  French 
regime).  These  people  still  cling  to  the  old 
language,  and  if  they  speak  English  at  all  it  is 
even  worse  than  their  French.  Like  the  negroes 
of  the  States,  they  are  all  named  after  great 
men,  but  in  their  distorted  patois  the  original 
names  are  hardly  recognisable.  "  Delly-feet," 
for  instance,  stands  for  De  Lafayette,  and  "  Nap- 
yarn  "  for  Napoleon. 

While  Madame  Bernhardt  was  in  the  alligator 
store,  gazing  interestedly  at  the  pens  filled  with 
wriggling,  squirming  little  alligators,  "  Delly- 
feet,"  a  long,  lean,  mud-covered,  sun-bronzed 
"  Cajun,"  whose  whole  attire  consisted  of  a 
blue  shirt,  a  pair  of  trousers  rolled  up  to  the 
knees,  and  a  palmetto  hat,  entered  with  a  sack 


v^ 


^^ 


"  '  OF.C.LV-FEET  '    ENTERED   WITH    A    SACK'    OVER    HIS   SHOULDER.' 


20 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


over   hr^  shoulder  containing  half  a   hundred 
lilt  creatures  about  isin.  long.     He  had 

pada. 


"Why    do   you    not    capture    the 
often  ? "  asked    Madame    Bernhardt. 


big    ones 
'Surely 


nis  />ert}gue  (canoe)   in   through    the        that  must  be  far  more  mterestmg  and  excituig 


^r^m  «1 


A    I'F.N    OK   SMALL   ALLIGATORS. 


\.Photo. 


.;iali)   to    the   city,    with   his   week's 

)X\  of  baby  '"gators."     'lliey   were   dis- 

"      tor  merchant  at   5   cents 


than  looking  for  the 
for  nests  and  then 
There   is    no  sport 


icntly  at 


att 


Ma. I 


It  his  queer 

■f 


IK  Dtnunty. 


quiet  spots  in  the  dry  sands 
watching  the  eggs  hatch? 
in  catching  little  creatures 
that  can  hardly  walk." 
"  No,  but  the  young 
are  always  saleable," 
replied  "  Delly-feet," 
sagely,  and  went  on 
to  explain  that  there 
is  no  danger  or  effort 
required  to  catch  the 
young,  and  they  are  no 
trouble  or  expense  to 
bring  to  town.  After 
the  mother  has  laid  the 
e<igs  in  a  sunny  spot  in 
the  sand  she  thinks  she 
has  done  her  duty  and 
goes  off.  The  sun 
hatches  them  out,  and 
as  soon  as  their  shells 
break  they  begin  to  for- 
age for  themselves.  The 
hunters  load  them  into 
their  blouse  shirt-fronts, 
so  as  to  keep  the  little 
fellows  warm  until  they 
can  be  got  to  some 
warmer  corner  of  their 
huts. 

Finally  "Delly-feet" 
invited  his  newacquaint- 


SARAH    BERNHARDT'S    ALLIGATOR    HUNT. 


ance  to  go  with  liini  on  a  chase.  Madame 
Bernhardt  eagerly  accei)ted,  and  a  few  even- 
ings later,  clad  in  a  regular  hunting -suit, 
with  a  short  skirt  and  high  boots,  she  and 
three  of  her  friends  boarded  the  little  electric 
train  for  the  summer  resort  of  West  End,  on 
Lake  Pontchartrain.  At  this  place  "  Delly- 
feet"and  two  more  hunters,  with  several  perogues, 
met  Madame  Bernhardt  and  her  party.  The 
hunters  had  with  them  the  necessary  parapher- 
nalia  for  capturing  a  monster. 

It  was  eight  o'clock  when  the  party  paddled 
off,  the  hunters  heading  for  a  likely  inlet.  The 
night  was  beautifully  moonlit,  and  the  quiet 
waters  of  the  lake  looked  a  sheet  of  shining 
silver.  Had  it  not  been  so  calm  the  party 
would  have  had  to  take  more  stable  boats,  for 
while  the  natives,  accustomed  to  handling  the 
frail  craft,  can  keep  them  upright  in  almost 
any  sea,  the  novice  has  to  part  his  hair  in  the 
middle  to  keep  them  on  an  even  keel. 

Paddling  along 
at  a  rapid  rate  the 
boats  arrived  in  the 
proximity  of  the 
scene  of  operations 
in  about  half  an 
hour,  and  "  Delly- 
feet ''  gave  instruc- 
tions that  all  con- 
versation must 
cease.  The  pad- 
dling now  became 
a  little  slower  and 
absolutely  noise- 
less, the  blades  dip- 
ping in  and  out  of 
the  water  without 
a  sound. 

Arrived  at  a 
known  haunt  of  the 
alligators  in  a  dark 
creek  fringed  with 
tall  reeds,  pine 
torches  were  lit  in 
the  canoes  and  a 
search  begun  at  the 
water's  edge  for 
" 'gator"  holes.  In 
a  few  minutes  a 
bunch  of  three 
were  found. 

Madame     Bern- 


SHE   SAW    A    MONSTER    ALLIGATOR    CRAWLING   OUT  OF    TIIK    HOLE. 


hardt  was  particu- 
larly anxious  to  capture  an  alligator  for  herself, 
and  so,  under  the  guidance  of  the  hunter,  she 
laid  a  noose  of  stout  ro[)e  about  one  of 
the  holes.  "  Delly-feet "  had  picked  out  the 
smallest,   thinking    it  was  better   to  capture  a 


saurian  that  would  give  them  no  trouo.c  than 
run  any  risks  with  too  large  a  one  while 
he  had  ine.xperienced  guests  to  look  after 
— for,  although  alligators  usually  flee  from  man- 
kind, they  are  extremely  dangerous  when  pro- 
voked to  anger  or  when  fight  is  forced  upon 
them.  Madame  Bernhardt,  however,  wanted 
her  alligator  to  be  a  big  one,  and  she  insisted 
that  the  largest  hole  should  be  the  one  selected. 
The  trap  laid,  the  other  end  of  the  rope  was 
tied  to  a  stout  tree.  Then  came  a  part  of  the 
operation  the  actress,  gifted  as  she  is,  was 
utterly  incapable  of  assisting  in,  involving  as  it 
does  a  close  study  of  the  habits  of  the  alligators 
and  ventriloquial  powers  of  no  mean  order. 

One  of  the  hunters  gave  a  low,  weird  snort, 
which  sounded  as  if  far  off  in  the  distance.  In 
the  stillness  of  the  night  and  amid  those  dreary 
wastes  it  sounded  most  eerie.  In  a  few  moments 
there  was  another  cry,  as  if  nearer.  Then 
another,    and    the    noise    was    repeated   until 

at  last  there  came 
a  violent  roar,  end- 
ing in  a  spluttering 
among  the  weeds 
at  the  water's  edge 
exactly  as  though  a 
huge  reptile  had 
just  landed  from  a 
long  swim.  It  was 
a  most  clever  piece 
of  mimicry. 

Almost  on  the 
instant  a  reply  came 
— but  out  of  the 
wrong  hole  !  A 
little  fellow,  about 
3ft.  long,  poked  his 
nose  out  of  a  hole 
beside  that  around 
which  the  noose 
was  laid  and  gave 
a  responding  snort. 
Quick  as  lightning 
the  vigilant  "I )elly- 
feet,"  who  had  a 
lasso  ready,  cast  it 
about  the  brute's 
neck,  jerked  the 
end  of  the  rope, 
and  drew  him  to  a 
tree  —  keeping  far 
enough  away  from 
him  10  avoid  the 
switch  of  his  lashing  tail  and  the  snapping  of  his 
formidable  jaws.  He  had  hardly  time  to  listen 
the  rope  and  secure  the  alligator  when  a  hubbub 
among  the  rest  of  the  party  told  that  more 
game  had  been  "  bagged."    Madame  Bernhardt, 


22 


THE   WIDE   WORLD   MAGAZINE. 


who  had   hold   of  her  rope  ready  to  give  the 

jerk  when  the  creature  should  have  passed  into 

■  ■     ■  (i  of  the  fact 

; : „  „'jme  while  she 

was    paving   but    little   attention    to   the   duty 

:  rly  watch- 

>  uii  her  rope 

^  quickly,  she 

saw  a  I!  crawling  out  of  the  hole, 

i    '  1.1      rope,  drawing 

.  middle. 
n  roared  with  rage  and  tore 
to  which  he  found 

-  Mster  than  any  of  the 

1   they  fled   helter-skelter  in  all 
I'he  visitors  had  just  time  to  get 

•  ■•   '    •'  •  ■■•- '•  gained  the  place 

,  '  from  side  to  side 


on  hi^ 


for      fr 


alon({   t 


purpose,  was  now  laid  near  him.  He  was 
tangled  up  as  much  as  possible  in  the  rope  ; 
and  when  all  danger  from  his  jaws  and  tail  was 
past  he  was  bound  securely  to  the  plank  and 
the  noose  around  his  body  cut.  The  plank  with 
its  burden  was  then  conveyed  to  one  of  the 
boats.  The  smaller  alligator  was  similarly  bound 
and  taken  on  board,  and  the  expedition  set  out 
on  its  return  journey.  "  Delly-feet "  paddled 
back  with  the  party  to  West  End,  and  saw 
them  safely  started  back  to  New  Orleans. 
Then  he  tied  his  boats  in  a  long  line,  Indian 
fashion,  and  paddled  to  his  home  on  Bayou 
Saint  John. 

Madame  Bernhardt's  alligator — shown  in  the 
photograph  here  reproduced^turned  out  to  be 
a  ten-footer  and  weighed  2751b.  The  hunter 
got  idol.  25  cents  per  foot  for  his  prizes — a  price 

which  hardly 
seems  to  warrant 
the  terrible  risk. 
He  had,  how- 
ever, the  unique 
satisfaction  of 
having  coached 
Madame  Sarah 
Bernhardt  on 
her  first  and  last 
alligator  hunt. 

The  vitality 
of  the  alligator 
was  wonder- 
ful. He  re- 
covered immedi- 
ately upon  the 
noose  being  cut 
and  lives  to-day 
hale  and  hearty, 
and  unless  he 
meets  an  un- 
timely end  his 
natural  life  will 
extend  far  be- 
yond that  of  any 
of  those  who 
made  up  the 
famous  party 
that  made  him 
captive. 


^..,    ,    ,,  I  i<    IIV    .MADAMK    SAKAll    bl-.KNH AKDT— 

V*A5    IO»T.    LONt,,    AND   WBICHBD   aysLB.  [PAotO. 


THE    PAynA5TER'5    PERIL. 

By  thk  Marquis  of   Kuvkiw. 

The  Marquis  writes:  "This  story  is  taken  from  the  diary  of  my  late  father,  who  was  at  the  time  a 
lieutenant  in  the  8oth  Regiment."  It  describes  how  the  young  officer,  while  acting  as  paymaster  of 
his  regiment,  was  entrusted  with  a  number  of  sacks  of  rupees  with  which  to  pay  the  troops  ;  how 
he  lost  his  way  in  the  enemy's  country ;   what  happened  at  the  deserted  pagoda  ;    and  how  the  d'acoits 

who  were  after  the  treasure  were  finally  worsted. 

military  cloak,  I  kept  fairly  dry,  Init  I  had  no 
time  to  think  about  such  a  trifle  a.s  a  wetting, 
for  the  pealing  of  the  thunder  and  the  dazzling 
flaslies  of  blue  lightning  sent  my  elephant  clean 
out  of  her  mind.  Heedless  of  the  mahout's 
chastisement,  Hera,  generally  extremely  pas- 
sive, figuratively  took  the  bit  between  her  teeth 
and  fled  frantically  out  of  the  avenue  of  trees 


;^SM 


OWARDS  the  close  of  the  Burmese 
War  of   1852-3   it   fell  to  my  lot  to 
be  acting-paymaster  of  my  regiment. 
We  were  encamped  nine  miles  from 
Prome,  and  part  of  my  duty  was  to 
repair  twice  a  month   to  that  station  to  draw 
rupees   from   the   Treasury  for  the  payment  of 
the  soldiers  and  camp-followers.     The  going  was 
merely  a   pleasant   ride 
when  made  on  the  back 
of  a   Pegu  pony,  but   I 
was  obliged  to  make  the 
return    journey    on    an 
elephant,    as   the   sacks 
of  rupees  were  far  too 
heavy  to  be  borne  by  any 
animal  with  less  weight- 
carrying  power. 

One  day  I  drew  my 
indent,  as  usual,  from 
the  Treasury,  and  whilst 
waiting  until  the  heat  of 
the  day  was  over  before 
starting  on  the  return 
journey  I  went  over  to 
the  Horse  Artillery  lines 
to  visit  a  friend  who 
had  asked  me  to  tiffin. 
Towards  afternoon  dark 
clouds  rolled  up  over 
the  sky,  and  everything 
indicated  an  approach- 
ing storm.  It  was  im- 
perative, however,  that 
I  should  return  to  the 
camp  that  evening,  and 

so  I  started  off,  declining  my  friend's  pressing 
invitation  to  remain  in  his  quarters  until  ne.xt 
morning. 

I  had  got  a  mile  or  two  outside  Prome  when 
the  storm  broke.  First  came  a  flash  of  vivid 
blue  lightning,  then  a  deafening  crash  of  tiuinder ; 
the  leaves  quivered,  and  the  birds  flew  hither 
and  thither  in  wild  alarm.  Then  flash  and 
crash  came  in  quick  succession,  followed  by 
such  torrents  of  rain  as  no  one  can  imagine 
who  has  not   been   in   Burma.     'I'hanks   to   my 


HEKA,    (,I.Nl-,liAl.l.V    EXTRE.MELY    HASSIVE,    FIGURATIVELY   TOOK    THE   BIT    BETWKI  v    1111;     I  1  I- 1  II. 


through  which  we  were  passing.  She  pre- 
sently took  to  the  open  country,  making  her 
way  towards  some  hills  which  I  had  been  told 
were  infested  by  dacoits. 

To  stop  the  terrified  brute  was  ini|n)ssible, 
and  night  closed  in  upon  us  wet  and  weary  and 
several  miles  from  the  road  that  led  to  my 
station,  with  the  elephant  still  dashing  madly 
along,  ^^'e  were  now  in  a  gorge  between  the  hills, 
and  a  broad  track,  worn  by  tiic  traffic,  .showed 
that  it  was  a  highway    to    some  of  the    many 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


VC 


which   had  slumbered  on   in 

t  entire  ignorance  of  the  war  that  rolled 

*      •  ■  >  ...,.>  f^esolatedso 

r.  opposite  to 
that  on  which  we  were  now  journeying.     The 

that  it  would  be  very 

. ,..;  and  the  large  treasure 

I  me  among  these  natives. 

•  >rm  had  abated  ;  the  stars 

.1  .  it>.  cnt  moon  gave  some  faint 

•J,     Hera    more      tractable,     the 

1  her  head  in  what  he  fancied  was 

of  the  river.      The  paddy-fields 

hard,   not  yet  having  been  con- 

wamp  by  the  rainy 

nt  was  now 

c    but   slow 

As  we  passed  alonu 

•  a  hill  a  scene  ol 

y  suddenly  op)ened 

In   a    kind   of 

theatre  we  saw  a 

':irli-ht, 

.,  :iie  (iiint 

<jf  the  loon,  while 

ry  music  of 

•' iiich  fringed 

:ri  soft  whisper- 

ning  breeze  swept 

suggested  that  we 
the  steps  of  this 

intil  morn- 

s   growing 

nt  showed 
There 


visible. 

steps 
;'le   we 

grass- 
US,   as 

1...  I.. 


in  a  shed.  Towards  this  shed  the  mahout 
directed  Hera,  and  by  lying  flat  upon  the 
pad  I  mar.aged  to  get  under  the  shelter  of  the 
roof  without  dismounting.  My  reasons  for  ob- 
jecting to  dismount  were  that  I  was  determined 
not  to  part  company  with  my  precious  treasure, 
and — although  I  had  no  positive  grounds  for 
distrusting  the  mahout — I  was  perplexed  by  his 
inability  to  check  the  elephant  in  her  flight 
towards  the  hills.  When  we  got  into  the 
shadow  of  the  shed,  therefore,  I  warned  him 
that  if  he  showed  any  treachery  the  first  bullet 
I  fired  should  be  through  his  body. 

For  arms  I  had  a  large    Dean  and  Adams 


ect    of 


'<^.\NviMft»^^ 


■'■■■^U    LI.UMANT    MOUNTED   THE    UKOAU   ^  i  ti-s   sLOWLV 


J 


liUT  SURELY. 


freely 

'■    -he 


revolver;  a  Colt  hung  to  my  belt,  and  in  my 
P-'-mc  basket  was  a  heavy  double  pistol,  which 
;;.  '"''■;;  ^^'^'ff  «"  the  SuHej,  and  was  picked 
n.  on  the  field  of  Fero.eshah  by  the  friend 
-l>o  gave  u  to  me.  In  this  basket,  too,  I  had 
-    I'ottle    of    cherry-brandy,    a    stone    flask    of 


THE    PAVMASTER'S    TERII.. 


-D 


curaroa,  and  a  bottle  of  Exshaw  brandy.  All 
these  I  had  purchased  in  Prome  as  sani[)les  for 
our  mess.  I  now  drained  a  tumbler  of  the 
brandy  as  if  it  were  water — for  1  was  soaked  to 
the  skin  and  bitttirly  cold — and  gave  some  to 
the  mahout,  whose  teeth  were  chattering  audibly. 
Hera  soon  smelt  the  spirit  and,  putting 
up  her  trunk,  asked  for  something  to  drink 
by  various  sounds  easily  understood  by  her 
attendant.  She  was  an  especial  favourite  of 
mine,  and  I  accordingly  opened  the  cherry- 
brandy  for  her,  knowing  how  fond  of  sweet 
cordials  all  elephants  are.  She  finished  half  the 
bottle,  grunting  with  satisfaction  as  she  poured 
it  from  her  trunk  into  her  capacious  mouth. 
Meanwhile  the  mahout  had  reconnoitred  the 
gloomy  shed  in  which  we  were  ensconced.  He 
announced  that  there  was  ample  standing-room 
for  the  elephant  behind  the  figure  of  Gaudama, 
and  by  a  little  coaxing  we 
managed  to  persuade  her  to 
move  in  behind  the  huge 
image,  which  almost  com- 
pletely hid  us  from  the  view 
of  any  prowling  native. 

The  moments  passed  slowly 
by  in  the  dark  shed,  and  I 
was  beginning  to  feel  drowsy 
when  the  mahout's  hand 
touching  my  knee  aroused 
me.  Footsteps  and  voices 
sounded  close  by,  followed 
by  scuffling  and  smothered 
groans  I  Instantly  I  was  on 
the  alert,  peering  intently 
through  the  gloom.  Presently 
several  Burmese  came  scram- 
bling up  the  terraced  steps, 
carrying  a  woman  swathed 
in  drapery  and  bound  hand 
and  foot.  They  had  evidently 
been  pursued,  for  they  gazed 
about  them  anxiously  and 
inquiringly,  while  one  pointed 
to  the  figure  of  the  god  in  a 
manner  that  made  me  fear 
they  knew  of  our  hiding- 
place.  It  was  not  so, 
however  ;  apparently  they 
intended  to  hide  there 
themselves,  and  after  a  few 
minutes'  conversation  they 
lifted  their  heli)less  burden, 
which  they  had  laid  down 
while  they  talked,  and  came 
towards  the  shed. 

This  would  not  do  at  all. 
If  these  natives  got  to  know 
of    our    hiding  -  place     they 

Vol.  X.-4. 


might    bring    a    swarm    of    the    tMieniy    down 
upon  us. 

I  drew  my  revolver,  and  ua^  ju->t  levellin;^  a 
at  the  foremost  man  when  the  mahout  drove 
his  goad  into  Hera's  neck  so  suddenly  and 
shar[)ly  that  she  trumpeted  loudly  with  pain, 
following  this  up  by  a  most  tremendous  bellow, 
something  between  a  howl  and  a  roar.  The 
noise  so  startled  me  that  involuntarily,  and 
quite  at  random,  I  pulled  the  trigger  of  my 
revolver.  The  bullet  struck  the  great  bell  in 
front  of  me,  and  glancing  sharply  off  entered  the 
heart  of  the  Burman  who  was  carrying  tiie 
ca[)tive,  and  he  drop[)ed  like  a  stone  !  The 
trumpeting  of  the  elephant,  the  pealing  of  the 
bell,  and  the  report  of  my  pistol,  coming  almost 
together,  so  terrified  the  Burmans  that,  shouting 
''Killi-kio-mao!"  ("The  devil,  the  devil"),  they 
fled    precipitately,  leaving  their  comrade  lying 


iiii-.y  ii.Ku  ruiicniTATBi.v. 


26 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


(I'-'i1    f,v    ihe    side  of    the   woman.      All   this 
\  i   so  quickly   that   it    was   some   time 

f  rred. 

-aiinly  for  his  clever- 

'■  int  to  speak  on  our 

fid,  as  i   now  felt  confidence  in  him,  I 

'    vn  from  •'       '     '     it  to  examine  the 

who  ound   upon    the 

le  the  joss-house.     I  soon  cut 

id  her,   and   with    some 

-    ,       .    ...  .,.ig,  which  had  lacerated 

mouth  cruelly.     She  was  quite  unconscious, 

I  still  had  the  flask  of  curagoa, 

...c  of  this  hetwecn  her  lips  soon 

It  turned  out  that  she  was  the 

oi    Pegusu,    a 

'     '    '      n    of 

iitisi) 

4  the  war  and  had 


I 

s' 

t 

tl.;;. 

her 

I 

a 

r- 

tl 

c 

^ 


to  where  we  were. 
■1  to  I'ronie, 

■ had  sought 

shelter  from  the  storm  in 
one  of  the  wayside   huts 

w     in     ]' 

^■'  i>,  she  V,    r. 

up  lo  find    hcfiielf   sur 
'     ')its, 

ahtT, 

vho  seized  and  bound 
hcT.  What  fate  would 
hate  been  h- •  '  '  ' 
nm    know — v. 

*•'  i  for  ransom 

or  III 

*•'  no 


UIK    I.Alt    MAkl^l;is   OK    K 
')ltS  /■'rem  It]  ADVKNTUKE 


inpic   for   their   prize, 
t  once.     The  mahout 
'    Burman's  dao,  or 
iiet  and  an   ivory- 
four   staircases   to 
some  o[)en.     U'c 
'•ut,  wishing  to 
<  III  ini.s   who 
d  by  a 
outlet    was    in  a 

•"  '^ Through 

'•I  the  roof 
a    few 


whose  ears  were  sharpened  by  terror,  walked  in 
front  with  me,  while  the  mahout  brought  up  the 
rear  with  the  elephant.  It  was  a  trying  time  as 
we  crept  cautiously  down  the  gloomy  arcade, 
our  ears  strained  for  the  slightest  sound. 

At  last,  however,  we  reached  the  entrance, 
which  was  guarded  by  two  huge  images,  some- 
what resembling  cats.  Crossing  a  grass-grown 
path,  we  passed  into  a  grove  of  trees.  Here 
the  elephant  stopped,  and  the  mahout  explained 
that  she  wanted  water,  and  scented  it.  The 
Burmese  girl  volunteered  to  lead  us  to  some, 
and  in  a  few  minutes  we  stood  by  the  side  of  a 
large  pool.  On  the  mahout's  advice  I  removed 
the  treasure  and  my  belongings  with  the  pad, 

and   let   Hera  enjoy   the 
luxury     of     a     bath     in 
the  cool,  silvery  water  of 
the     miniature     tree-em- 
bosomed lake.    While  the 
elephant   was    doing   this 
the    girl    glided    silently 
away     into     the     forest, 
returning    after    half    an 
hour    or    so    laden    with 
pines  and  custard-apples. 
'I'hen,  while   the  mahout 
went  off  to  forage  for  the 
benefit   of   the   elephant, 
the  Burmese  girl  lay  down 
in  the  shadow  of  a  large 
tree   to    rest.       Selecting 
another  for  myself  I  made 
a  pile  of  my  treasure-bags, 
covered    them    with    the 
pad,    and    lay    down    to 
rest  my  very  tired  limbs. 
Before      the      anxiously- 
awaited     dawn      arrived, 
however,    another    heavy 
storm     drove     us     once 
more  for   shelter   to   the 
gateway  of  the  deserted 
pagoda. 
At  last  the  day  broke  and  we  started  off  on 
our  way  to  the  camp.     After  three  hours'  weary 
ploddmg     through     paddy-fields,     where     the. 
elephjint  travelled  with  exceeding  difficulty,  we 
reached    the   .bank    of  a   deep  nullah,    through 
which  a  stream,  swollen  by  the  heavy  rains  until 
It  was  some  loft.  deep,  was  violently  whirling. 
So  fierce,  indeed,  was  the  torrent  that  the  posts 
of  a  wooden  bridge  by  which  we  had  hoped  to 
cross  had    been    loosened,    and    the    sagacious 
Hera,    after     feeling     them     with    her    trunk, 
pasilively    refused    to    trust    herself    upon     it. 
Ihere  was  nothing  for  us    to  do— unwelcome 
and  dangerous  as  was  the  delay— but  to  wait  in 
the  wayside  house  by  the  bridge  until   the  flood 


UVIGNV,    TO   WHOM    THE 
HAHl'ENED.  [P/,p/o. 


'I'HE    J'AVMASTKR'S    I'ERIL. 


27 


had  subsided.  It  went  on  until  long  past  mid- 
day, when  a  Burnian  coming  from  the  opposite 
side  directed  us  to  a  bridge  higher  up  the 
stream  over  which  he  said  the  elephant  could 
cross.  This  man,  as  I  noticed  uneasily,  paid 
particular  attention  to  the  bags  of  rui^ees. 

I  promised  our  informant  two  rupees  for 
guiding  us  to  the  British  camp,  and  late  in  the 
evening  we  reach- 
ed our  destination 
in  safety,  to  my 
great  relief.  Hav- 
ing ascertained 
that  the  girl  had 
friends  in  an  ad- 
joining village, 
and  paid  and  dis- 
missed the  Bur- 
man,  I  went  to  my 
quarters,  where 
I  had  a  bath, 
changed  my 
clothes,  and  broke 
my  thirty -si.K 
hours'  fast  with  a 
hearty  meal. 

It  was  a  mile 
from  my  quarters 
to  the  place  where 
the  regimental 
safe  was  kept 
under  charge  of 
the  main  guard, 
and.  as  I  was  too 
fatigued  to  take 
the  sacks of  rupees 
down,  I  resolved, 
much  against  the 
advice  of  my 
colour  -  sergeant, 
to  keep  them  by 
me  for  the  night 
and    hand    over    the    money    in    the    morning. 

The  house  in  which  I  was  quartered  had 
once  been  a  pkoottgce  house  or  monastery  and 
school-house  combined.  It  was  very  large, 
measuring  about  fifty  yards  by  fifteen,  and  was 
surrounded  by  a  broad  veranda,  reached  by 
four  stone  staircases.  The.se  phoongee  houses 
are  built  of  teak  and  consist  of  only  one  floor, 
raised  some  12ft.  from  the  ground  on  teak 
piles  ;  the  space  beneath  is  open  and  is  used 
sometimes  as  a  market-place,  sometimes  as  a 
school,  and  sometimes  as  a  place  for  the  priests 
to  sit  in  during  the  heat  of  the  day.  The  doors 
of  the  rooms  do  not  open  as  ours  do,  but  lift 
up  like  the  lid  of  a  box.  The  front  of  my 
house  faced  the  cantonments  and  the  rear 
looked  on   to   an  open   plain,  which  stretched 


A    UUklMAN    CU.Mi.NG    KKOM    THE   Ol'HOSnE   SlUli    OIKECIED    US   TO   A    BRIDGE 
HIGHER    UP  THE   SIREAM." 


out  for  some  three  miles  behind  our  lines.  My 
bedroom  was  at  the  back  of  the  building,  its 
door  immediately  facing  the  gate  at  the  top  of 
one  of  the  four  staircases  aforesaid,  and  I  was 
accustomed  to  sleep  with  my  door  lifted  up  for 
the  sake  of  air.  Two  of  my  servants  usually 
slept  in  the  veranda  — one  an  orphan  Burmese 
boy  who  had  attached  himself  to  me  after  the 

storming  of  Shoay 
I  )agon  Pagoda, 
the  other  a  Nuigh 
tribesman  whose 
fidelity  had  been 
proved  upon  more 
than  one  occasion. 
The  treasure  was 
in  a  chest  at  the 
end  of  my  room  ; 
at  the  far  end  of 
the  big  house  was 
the  hospital,  occu- 
pied just  then  by 
only  a  few  patients, 
and  watched  over 
by  a  sentry  whose 
beat,  however,  was 
on  the  ground 
below. 

As  I  awoke 
slowly  from  the 
deep  sleep  in- 
duced by  my 
extreme  fatigue 
something  seemed 
to  impress  upon 
me  the  necessity 
of  lying  as  still  as 
death.  The  moon- 
light was  stream- 
ing into  the  room, 
and  as  I  opened 
my  eyes  I  saw 
to  my  horror  that  the  place  was  crowded  with 
Burmans.  I  could  even  smell  tiie  peculiar 
odour  of  palm-oil  which  accompanies  them. 
Through  my  half-closed  eyelids  I  became  aware, 
too,  of  two  watchers  crouching  on  either  side  of 
my  bed.  Their  lurid  eyes  glared  savagely  at 
me,  and  their  uplifted  daggers,  gleaming  in  the 
moonlight,  showed  that  they  meant  to  kill  me 
the  moment  I  showed  signs  of  waking. 

So  1  lay  perfectly  still,  feigning  slumber,  but 
watching  the  whole  extraordinary  scene  through 
my  eyelids.  One  by  one  my  bags  of  rupees 
were  removed  into  the  veranda,  and  as  I  lay 
there,  wrapjjcd  in  apparent  slumber,  I  seemed 
as  if  I  could  hear  my  heart  beating.  It  was 
partly  fear-  for  death  was  very  <lose  indeed 
that  night  -and  partly  rage,  for  I  knew  that  the 


W^V^fh 


38 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


,.,c  after  all.     But  to   move 

.-.ri,  and  so   I   lay   wondering 

wlLLii  had  become  of  my  servants  and  whether 

!    me,   while   I    watched   the 

:)  mv  room,  working  silently 

mIv    1  liLMfd  the  "relief"  and  a 

4  with  measured  tread  along  the 

:ont  of  my  quarters.     What  good 

angel  had  sent  them  to  my  aid   I    could   not 

'        ■   '     '1  the  steady  tramp  ascenduig 

.c    and    coming    along    the 


speak  to  their  chief.  In  an  instant  I  had 
clutched  the  revolver  under  my  pillow,  and  as 
the   men   returned— I  suppose  to  take  my  head 

I  let  fly  two  shots  in  quick  succession.     One 

bullet  went  through  the  heart  of  a  huge  fellow, 
who  seemed  to  be  the  chief,  and  the  other  laid 
low  a  man  whom  1  recognised  as  the  Burman 
who  had  met  me  in  the  morning  at  the  bridge. 

In  another  moment  the  room  was  full  of  our 
men,  alarmed  by  the  shooting,  and  I  was  saved. 
One  of  my  two  servants — the  little  Burmese  boy 
— had  managed  to  slip  away  unperceived  by  the 


I   LET  rtV  TWO  SHOTS   IN   QUICK   SUCCESSION 


"M  scarcely  resist  the  impulse 

for  one  of  the  watchers  had 

cr  me  as  though  to  strike. 

•  vo  other   Burmans 

i5i  listened  intently. 

(I,    and     in     the     breathless 

'   was  almost  madden- 

■'  'uing   the  necessity 

hop*?    revivrtl    as 

ine    pacing 

robbers 

my  bed. 

')  kill   me,  but   the 

••  ih'-y  bulb  left  to 


—  -  -'  dacoits,  and  had  fled  to  give 
the  alarm  which  fetched  the 
patrol.  The  other,  my  faithful 
Nuigh,  Otoom  Moomig,  who  kept  the  keys  of 
the  gate,  lay  dead  on  the  veranda,  his  head 
nearly  severed  from  his  body  and  five  great 
stabs  right  through  his  loyal  heart. 

Of  the  dacoits  we  captured  five,  all  of  whom 
were  identified  by  the  girl  whom  we  had  rescued 
as  having  been  among  her  captors.  Had  it  not 
been  for  the  scare  they  got  at  the  temple  when 
engaged  on  another  piece  of  villainy,  it  is  quite 
possible  that  the  dacoits  would  have  discovered 
us  in  the  pagoda  and  secured  the  treasure  there, 
instead  of  losing  their  lives  in  their  desperate 
but  so  nearly  successful  attempt  to  carry  it  off 
from  the  cantonment. 


LIFE    IN    LABRADOR. 


By  C.  Turville  Gardner. 

The  author  has  lived  for  a  considerable  period  in  the  little-known  Colony  of  Labrador— the  "  rubbish- 
heap  of  creation."     He  describes  the  terrible  rigours  of  the  long  winter  and  the  streni  ous  lives  of  the 
hardy  toilers  who  live  in  this  grim  land  of  snow,  ice,  and  fog. 


ABRADOR  has  been  described  as 
the  "rubbish-heap  of  creation."  It 
is  a  cold,  hard  country — a  land  of 
forbidding  cliffs  and  frowning  preci- 
[)ices,  with  never  a  sloping  shore  or 
pleasant  sandy  beach.  Inland  it  is  no  more 
attractive ;  ponds,  marshes,  woods,  and  far- 
spreadmg  "  barrens,"  unmhabited  and  unex- 
plored, cover  the  undulating  ground.  The 
country  is  difficult  to  cross  at  any  time,  but 
m  the  summer  it  is  made  impassable  by  the 
mosquitoes  and  flies  which  breed  on  the 
mnumerable  marshes.  Travelling  across  country 
and  all  hunting  and  trap[)ing  work  have  there- 
fore to  be  done  in  the  winter. 

Even  the  sea  does  its  best  to  close  these 
inhospitable  coasts  permanently  to  man.  The 
warm  Gulf  Stream  and  the  cold  Arctic  current 
meet  a  little  way  to  the  south-east  of  Newfound- 
land, and  as  the 
warm,  moist  air 
from  the  former 
passes  over  the 
Arctic  current 
the  moisture  is 
condensed  and 
a  heavy  pall  of 
fog  settles  d  wn. 
Year  in  and  year 
out  you  may  rely 
on  meeting  this 
fog  unless  there- 
is  a  good  breeze, 
and  the  sailor 
has  no  more 
terrible  foe,  the 
dangers  of  which 
are   increased   a  ^^^^^^ 

hundred  -  fold  Iroma  l'lioto.\         "an  ever-I'Ki:sent  mi 


hereabouts  from  the  fact  that  there  are  numerous 
icebergs  about.  Day  after  day  these  glistening 
monsters  drift  southwards  on  the  current  at  a 
rate  of  two  or  three  miles  an  hour,  an  ever- 
present  menace  to  shipping.  At  times,  if  it  is 
clear,  over  a  dozen  can  be  seen  at  once.  Not 
only  are  there  these  'bergs  to  be  met  with,  but 
enormous  fields  of  "floe-ice"  lie  on  and  off 
the  shore,  moving  with  the  wind  and  rendering 
a  journey  by  water  practically  impossible.  For 
days  at  a  time,  as  far  as  the  eye  can  see,  there 
will  be  nothing  but  ice. 

When  this  sort  of  thing  happens  m  the 
spring-time  it  means  that  travelling  of  all  kinds 
has  to  be  suspended,  for  on  land  the  "softness" 
— the  gradual  thawing-out  of  things,  a  two 
months'  process — renders  any  journey  out  of 
the  question.  The  best  thing  the  unfortunate 
wayfarer  can  do  at  such  a  time   is  to  "lie  up" 

and  wait  for  an 
off-shore  wind  to 
drive  the  floes 
awa}'.  This  may 
come  in  one, 
two,  or  three 
weeks. 

A  very  good 
idea  of  the  diffi- 
culty of  getting 
about  in  I.abra- 
d  o  r  may  be 
gained  from  a 
description  of 
one  of  my  own 
experiences.  On 
April  i7ti)  last 
myself  and  an- 
other man  left 
the    head    of 


NACI-;     lO    MIIIIINi. 


il-y  tiu 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


icr. 

it 
•  • 
ir 

pu 


iic    intentiuii   >-i  getting  to 

ice  in  a  bee-line  of  thirty- 

We    made    a    start    at    about 

a.in.,     •  all    our    "  gear  "    on    our 

'!">■■      p^-.      consisted  of  a  knapsack 

)(i  for  three  or  four  days,  without 

w  s  never  safe  to  travel  in  this  inhospit- 

ar  •-•       We  also  carried  matches,  string, 

5,.  and   several   other  necessaries,   a 

gun  and  well  filled  cartridge  bag,  "  rackets  "  or 

sr:    .  '  .>ne  or  two  pairs  of  gloves  and 

5c    ..,      .  le  three  [)airs  of  stockings  we 

already  wore,     l^st,  but  by  no  means  least,  we 

■   I  kettle. 

.  „.    .,,...   -,  down  the  bay  we  walked  on 

m.idf   ireiirherous    by   heavy  seas  outside 
ii.     At  the  edge  of  this 
^.  Mi     iiito  a  boat  and  launched 
met  at  once  with  the  difficulty  ot 
_h  "sish,"  which  in  English  means 
ice.     After   an  arduous   five-mile 
^   ;        icd  the  mouth  ol  the  bay,  but  had 
trouble    in    landmg   because    of   the    pack-ice 
w'  drifted  in   from  the  sea.     Here  we 

goi  ..  „..„,,!  breakfast  and  borrowed  a  small 
boat.  This  boat  wc  had  to  drag  for  half  a  mile 
across  the  icc,  and  then  at  last,  with  a  fair  wind, 

w  '    '  -    "    ;.       The    wind    is    the    first 

tl.  bout  on  a  journey  like  this. 

A'  Nind  means  freedom  from  ice ; 

ic  time,  when  you  are  travtlling  in 

.    you    must    watch    the  wind  and 

tantly,  or  else  both  you  and  your 

off  out  to  sea   into  the  great  fog- 

■  '  '  ■  heard  of  more. 

'if  pulling   and    sailing    we 
aw  another  boat  close  inshore-, 
''it  *"      I    asked    my   companion. 


not  the  doctor ;  must   be   Jakey," 
y  the  way,  is  the  postman. 
I  sang  out,  as  we   came 
.  mails  for  me?" 
'Ic  bit ;  come  alongside." 

'  '         istman  told  us  that 

'P  for  us  off  (Jape 

had  Inrtler  haul  in  to  Conche. 

all     Irish,    and,  with 

1 1  Upon, 
tile  best 

wind    had 
me  the  ice. 

iilfl  see, 

nth,  rc- 

■•'•  miles 

.inri 

t.       >  ncjsc    are 


ii 


ti 


the  two  spring  resources  of  Labrador,  the  ducks 
being  shot  to  eat  and  the  seal  to  wear.  On 
the  Saturday  we  laboriously  hauled  our  boat 
across  a  neck  of  land,  saving  us  three  miles,  and 
early  morning  on  Monday  found  us  under  way. 
But  after  an  hour's  pull  we  were  brought  up  by 
the  ice,  which  had  got  jammed  at  a  headland. 
We  spent  an  hour  or  two  on  the  rocks  at  the 
foot  of  the  cliffs,  but,  seeing  that  if  the  wind 
went  down  the  ice  would  pen  us  up  helplessly 
under  unclimbable  cliffs,  we  beat  a  retreat  to  a 
spot  where  we  could,  if  necessary,  climb  up.  This 
was  a  very  necessary  precaution,  from  the  fact 
that,  if  the  wind  veers  right  in,  the  driven  floes 
may  pile  up  to  a  height  of  50ft.,  threatening  a 
fearful  death  to  any  unfortunate  caught  in  their 
icy  embrace.  Soon  after  we  found  the  ice  open- 
ing somewhat  and  so  made  a  move,  ^^'e  were 
soon  brought  up  by  ice  again,  however. 

"There's  a  way,"  shouted  my  fellow-traveller. 
"  Look  how  it's  running  !  " 

"  Right  you  are  ;  now  we'll  have  to  haul, 
quick,  or  we'll  get  nipped." 

My  companion  jumped  out  on  to  the  ice  on 
one  side,  I  on  the  other  ;  and  with  our  "  slob- 
pounders,"  or  paddles,  we  shoved  the  masses  of 
ice  aside.  Then  we  rowed  the  boat  a  little 
distance,  then  caught  hold  of  her  by  the  bows 
and  pulled  her  out  of  the  water  and  across  the 
ice.  A  few  yards  of  this  and  we  reached  an 
open  stretch,  where  we  tumbled  the  boat  ni  and 
ourselves  on  top  of  her.  Time  after  time  we 
did  this,  often  landing  to  look  for  a  channel 
through  the  eternal  pack-ice,  continually  in 
danger  of  getting  crushed  like  a  shell  between 
the  rugged  masses  of  ice.  Contrary  to  our 
expectations,  however,  we  slept  under  a  roof, 
which  we  reached  at  nightfall.  Ne.xt  day  we 
left,  at  about  2.30  a.m.,  in  a  blizzard  of  snow, 
rain,  and  fog,  which  finally  drove  us  for  shelter 
to  another  house. 

And  so  it  went  on  day  by  day,  till  after  a  week 
and  three  days  of  the  most  arduous  travelling 
imaginable,  generally  turning  out  at  2.30  in 
the  morning  and  working  hard  all  day,  we 
reached  St.  Anthony,  only  thirty-seven  miles 
in  a  bee-line  from  our  starting-point.  This 
will  exjjlain  to  you  why  Labrador  is  not  in 
favour  as  a  tourist  resort. 

1  mentioned  sealing  and  duck  shooting  as 
being  the  spring  resources  of  Labrador.  In 
winter  the  inhabitants  have  to  go  into  the 
woods  and  cut  and  haul  out  their  next  year's 
supply  of  fuel.  They  also  build  boats  and 
mend  their  "linnets"  or  nets.  All  this  work 
leads  uj)  to  the  great  summer  fishery.  Labra- 
dor-nn.'n  and  Newfoundlanders  are  fishermen 
and,  one  might  almost  say,  nothing  else.  Fish 
is  the  mainstay  of  their  existence  ;  if  fish  are 


l.Ill'.     IN     I.AHKADOR. 


3t 


COD    SCIIoONliHi   ON     IIIKIR    WAY    TO   THE    FISHING-GKOUNDS-    ' 

From  a  Photo.\      scarce  it  is  a  rsAi)  year  for  Labrador.' 


scarce,  it  is  a  bad  year  for  Labrador  and  New- 
foundland. Curiously  enough,  however,  only 
the  codfish  is  recognised  as  "fish,"  and  a 
common  question  among  the  people  is  :  "  Will 
you  have  fish  or  salmon  ?"  The  fishermen  are 
divided  into  three  classes — those  who  fish  in 
boats  with  hook  and  line  off  their  own  homes  ; 
those  who  "jig"  or  jerk  the  hook  into  the 
fish's  body  ;  and  those  who  fish  with  traps. 
These  last,  who  catch  far  the  most  fish,  are,  of 
course,  the  aristocracy  of  the  fishing  population. 

Every  year,  in  May  and  June,  the  Labrador 
schooners  leave  their 
southern  Newfoundland 
homes  to  go  "  down  the 
shore"  —  north  is  always 
"down" — in  search  of 
fish.  As  soon  as  the  off- 
shore winds  begin  to  blow 
and  the  ice  gets  driven  off 
the  shore,  the  fish  begin 
to  come  in.  Alas  !  some- 
times the  "off"  wind  does 
not  come  when  it  is  ex 
pected,  and  last  year  the 
vessels  were  blocked  in 
the  ice  until  August,  when 
the  fish  had  gone. 

A  schooner  goes  "  down 
the  Labrador  "  well  laden. 
She  has  plenty  of  hands 
aboard,  a  large  quantity  of 
salt,  a  certain  amount  of 
food,  and  more  hope ;  but 
there  is  more  hope  goes 
down  the  coast  than  conies 
up,  for  a  bad  fishery  spells 


disaster.  What  is  a  man  to  do  when 
he  relies  on  his  summer  tatch  for 
his  fiimily's  winter  food  and  the 
schooner  conies  home  ab.soluteIy 
empty  ? 

'The  fishery  is  over  all  too  soon. 
It  lasts  through  July,  August,  and  Sep- 
tember, if  all  is  well.  During  that 
time  a  good  voyage  will  have  brought 
in  a  thousand  and  a  half  (juintals, 
or  hundredweight,  for  a  crew  of  five 
or  six  hands  ;  of  this  each  man's 
share  pans  out  at  about  one-twelfth. 
These  schooner-men,  who  come 
and  go,  account  for  a  large  number 
of  the  Labrador  population.  Of  the 
rest,  there  are  the  "  livyeres,"  or 
settlers — who  make  their  li\ing  by 
catching  salmon  and  trout  in  the 
summer  and  collecting  fur  in  the 
winter — and  Esquimaux.  These  latter 
are  interesting  people  to  live  among. 
They  are  always  jolly  and  contented— just  bip, 
grown-up  babies.  They  live  by  fishing  and 
hunting,  and,  although  t'.iey  sleep  a  large  part  of 
the  winter,  they  find  time  to  put  in  some  suc- 
cessful deer-hunting  and  sealing,  the  latter  being 
the  more  important  of  the  two,  for  seal  blubber 
is  most  excellent  for  the  dogs,  which  have  mar- 
vellous capabilities  in  that  line.  Then,  too, 
sealskin  is  all  that  is  required  for  most  excellent 
boots,  which  are  worn  everywhere  in  the  winter  ; 
the  skin  is  warm  for  clothes  and  bed-rugs  ;  the 
oil  burns  well  enough  to  light  the  tent  ;  and,  to 


UHKN    MSII    ARK 

\l'y  the  Author. 


LABRADOR    ESiJlIMAl  X  — "    IIIIV    SKV.    JIST    IIU:,    i;R.)\VN-Ul 

From  It  I'hoto.  by  the  Author. 


32 


THE    \VIJ)E    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


will  find 

;,.    ill- 


down  to  his 

'  r,{  seal 

The 

the  popu- 

ut      1-         ■         i^ 

■■  'i  \!  : ccr 

at     whom 
very  Imic   is  known. 

:  '        -    •' '•■  i)eople 

.  .    occa- 
ey  come  out 


P^^ 


ae  not  seen 
As    the    n  u  t  u  in  n 

r. ,,  r ..  . ,  I,  .-s   all    the 

get      to- 

their    traps,    and 

'   -   •■.  !••  for 

1.    ,;n^ 
■  livyeres"and 
■  '    i  »n 
.         .         :nd. 

fe  on  a  schooner  very  passablf,  for 
V  are  nice  and  clean,  and  eating 
is  a  change  from  the  hard  con- 
'  home. 

iming  of  October  everybody  has 

for  the  winter's  work.     Some 

le  bays  and  building  a  fresh 

^  or  cutting  their  ne.xt  year's 

i»i>>kJ,  wuik  oihcrs  will    be  patching   up  their 


n».i 
the 
ari' 
I   t 


AN    IMPORTANT   EVENT — THE   LAST   PROVISION    SHIP   OF    THE    VEAK    ARRIVES. 

Front  a  Photo,  by  the  Author. 


houses.  The  majority,  however,  will  build  a 
boat  or  two  and  have  plenty  of  time  on  their 
hands.  There  is  always  anxiety,  liowever,  about 
the  winter  food  supply.  Often  it  will  not  arrive 
till  November  or  even  December.  '^I'hen  the 
last  mail-boat  of  the  season  comes  down  laden, 
but  perhai)s  with  an  insufficient  quantity  to 
supply  the  whole  coast.  Her  captain  promises 
to  make  one  more  call,  but  very  often  cannot  on 
account  of  the  ice,  and  things 
go  pretty  hard  with  the 
1  .abrador-men. 

'J"he  photograph  given  above 
represents  a  most  typical  case 
of  this  kind.  Last  Decem- 
ber we  had  only  about  half  a 
barrel  of  fiour  and  some  salt 
fish  and  salmon  left,  and  con- 
siderable doubts  as  to  the 
arrival  of  any  material  (juaiitity 
in  addition  to  this  slender 
stock.  The  bay  froze  up,  and 
still  there  was  no  sign  of  the 
schooner  witli  the  winter  sup- 
plies, and  all  hands  began  to 
look  an.xious.  On  the  2nd  of 
December,  however,  at  al)out 
five  o'clock,  she  was  sighted 
outside  the  ice.  Next  morning 
we  all  turned  to  with  saws  and 
axes,  the  ropes  were  cheerily 
manned,  and  the  vessel  was 
'by t'te Author.         haulcd    iulo    her    winter 


LIFE    L\     LABRAl^OR. 


33 


.-r*' 


From  ii  I 


A   l.\i;kauou   uo.Miis  n.Aij  in    ui:wlk. 


anchorage.  Then  from  all  round  the  bay  came 
dogs,  slides,  "komatiks,"  and  sledges,  men  and 
boys  singing  and  shouting  for  joy  across  the  ice. 
The  tackles  squeaked  at  their  work,  and  by 
evening  the  schooner  was  empty  and  the  frozen 
butter  and  meat  stowed  away  in  the  "  tilts  "  or 
houses  all  round  the  bay. 

They  we  were  ready  to  settle  down  for  a  snug 
winter.  The  houses  were  well  "  stogged  "  with 
moss  and  the  windows  made  air-tight  by  ice. 
All  who  have  traps  put  on  their  rackets  and 
"  travel  "  into  the  country.  An  otter  trap  is  set 
in  this  stream  and  a  fox  trap  beside  that  pond, 
and  so  on  till  there  are,  perhaps,  thirty  traps 
set — a  week's  work.  These  traps  are  visited 
once  a  week,  as  a  rule,  and  so  the  furrier  has 
his  winter's  work  cut  out  for  him. 

Every  week,  if  the  woods  are  handy,  a  "trip  " 
is  made  into  them,  and  a  day's  work  put  in 
cutting  and  iiauling  out  wood  for  fuel,  witii  the 
help  of  the  dogs.  \x\  this  way  enough  wood  is 
cut  to  last  the  summer  as  well,  and  this  is 
brought  down  in  the  spring  in  boats. 

'I'he  only  fresh  food  that  is  obtainable  in  the 
winter  is  caribou  flesh,  so  that  everyone  makes 
at  least  one  journey  in  the  winter  on  to  the  hills 
to  shoot  deer  ;  but  even  here  many  things 
combine  to  upset  carefully -laid  plans.  Of 
course,  the  weather  is  carefully  watched  for  a 
good  "  time,"  but  all  weather  prophets  fail 
sometimes,  and  perhaps  the  ground  is  too 
"  hard  "  or  perhaps  too  "  soft." 

Of  such  moment  is  the  yearly  visit  of  the 
doctor  that  to  those  on  the  northern  coasts  it 
forms  a  most  important  event.     At  a  glance  this 

Vol.  X.— 5. 


\by  the  Author. 


The 

hardy. 


may  not   be  apparent,   but  it 
becomes    more   so   when   one 
knows  that  this  gentleman   is 
doctor,  surgeon,  dentist,  clergy- 
man,   magistrate,    and   police- 
man,   skipper    of    a    steamer, 
owner   of   three   co-operative 
stores,  head  of  tiiree  hospitals 
—one   on    the    French  shore, 
and  two,  visited  in  the  summer 
on    his    steamer,    "  down    the 
Labrador"  —  and   trader  and 
mill -owner,  all  without   com- 
petition.     I   give    his    photo- 
graph as  he  appeared  after  a 
cross  -  country   run    and   three 
nights    in    the  open  with    the 
thermometer    at    2  5deg.    and 
3odeg.    below    zero.       Ijehind 
him    is    one    of    his    almost 
starved  dogs.     Perhaps  in  this 
dress  you  do  not  recognise  an 
eminent  English  surgeon  ;  but 
such  he  is. 

)ugh    and 
no  means  a  healthy  race.     'J'he 


Newfoundlanders,    though 
are  by 


ma: 


;,   CI.KKGV- 
UiATKs   A 


STEAMEK     AM)    IHVN>     IHKkb    MuKt-s. 

From  a  F/ia/o.  by  the  Author. 


34 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


ronstant  exposure,  the  continual  risk  necessarily 

from   the    nature   of   their   work, 

mr;  ,m>i:.:.  .ciU — and  at  best  poor —food   and 

worse  rlothing  have  rendered  them  peculiarly 

to  the  frequent  ravages  of  sickness 

:s  an  mcident  worth  relating.  Our 
steamer  was  forced  to  take  refuge  from  the  ice 
in  a  small  hight  called  Canada.  Here  we 
found  a  few  Irish  families  living.  At  once  we 
were  txjarded  by  a  crowd  of  men,  some  wishing 
to  see  the  doctor  in  his  professional  capacity, 
some  to  sell  him  (ur. 

I  noticed  two  men  in  particular.     The  doctor 


do  him  good.  Often  these  men  will  not  be 
content  unless  they  have  got  something  wrong 
with  them,  but  a  good  emetic  often  convinces 
them  they  are  cured,  while  their  testimonies  to 
the  curative  powers  of  bread  and  sugar  or  lard 
pills  are  innumerable. 

My  last  photo,  was  taken  eleven  miles  inland 
on  the  shores  of  a  bay,  and  shows  the  house  in 
which  I  spent  a  large  part  of  last  winter.  The 
Newfoundlanders  are  very  handy  men,  and  he 
who  would  live  among  them  must  be  one,  too. 
This  house  was  one  we  built  ourselves  in  the 
autumn,  and  was  the  biggest  house  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood.    The  party  shown  in  the  foreground 


attended  one  of  them,  and,  having  agreed  to 

make  up  some   medicine   for   him,    sent    him 

■   the  twenty  cents  fee.      After  ten 

•'       1  )Ctor  came  on  deck  and, 

■  I,  the   man  waiting,   gave 

ffowdcrs    and   a   plaster,    receiving 

I'rescntly  a   man 

red  twenty  cents,  ask- 

plaster.     The  doctor, 

the  first  man,  who  was 

"th  he  had  bought 

■'  intended  for  him. 

•    the   man    replied    that, 

'led  in 

;■'  keep  it. 

and  apply 

1,  aj.  he  was  sure  they  would 


.    '  --  'i     ■-  ■'  i;;.!:,i..  ■  [/,y  th:  Author. 

are  on  their  way  to  look  for  water  in  its  natural 
form,  but  as  what  they  are  walking  on  is  the  sea 
it  will  be  understood  that  the  precious  fluid  is 
not  likely  to  be  found  easily. 

Presides  fish,  the  resources  of  Newfoundland 
and  Labrador  are  practically  non-existent. 
Lumbering  is  carried  on  to  a  certain  extent,  and 
there  are  one  or  two  mines  and  a  continual 
fruitless  talk  of  more  being  opened.  But  if  a 
use  could  be  found  for  good  solid  rock  or  ice, 
in  bulk,  their  prospects  of  a  more  promising 
future  would  appear  to  have  a  greater  possibility 
of  accomplishment.  It  is  in  a  great  measure 
owing  to  the  energy  and  resource  of  the  Mission 
to  Deep  Sea  Fishermen,  of  which  I  have  been  a 
disinterested  spectator,  that  Labrador  is  what  it 
is  to-day. 


3  "  Tenderfoot "  in  a  Prairie   Fire. 

By    Rai.i'ii    Stock,    of    Maple    Creek,    Assiniboia,    Canada. 

Arriving  at  a  little  prairie  station  an  absolute  "  tenderfoot "  or  greenhorn,  the  author  had  not 
been  in  the  place  an  hour  when  he  was  seized  upon  by  the  local  "  fire-guardian  "  to  go  and  help 
fight  a  dangerous  prairie  fire  ten  miles  away.  The  experience  was  a  novel  and  most  exciting  one. 
When  things  were  at  their  worst  and  the  fire-fighters  were  being  driven  back,  a  providential 
downpour  of  rain   extinguished   the  conflagration    and    saved    a   threatened    homestead. 


HOPELESS,  palpable  "  tenderfoot," 
and  painfully  aware  of  the  fact,  I 
arrived,  bag  and  baggage,  at  Maple 
Creek,  a  ranching  centre  in  the 
North-West  Territories  of  Canada, 
after  a  more  or  less  uncomfortable  journey  of 
some  6,000  miles. 

There  were  no 
porters  to  seize  my 
traps  as  I  stood  on 
the  tiny  platform, 
feeling,  and  I'm 
sure  looking,  like 
the  proverbial  fish 
out  of  water  ;  no 
cries  of  "Cab,  sir?" 
■ — simply  silence. 

At  first  I  thought 
I  was  the  only  occu- 
pant of  that  plat- 
form, dumped 
down,  as  it  were,  on 
the  wide  -  spreading 
prairie,  and  looking 
for  all  the  world 
like  a  disused  pack- 
ing-case turned  up- 
side down.  On 
looking  round,  how- 
ever, I  discovered 
a  short,  thick  -  set 
man,  with  a  face 
the  colour  of  red 
ochre,  surmounted 
by  a  stiff,  wide-brim- 
med felt  hat,  the 
crown  of  which  was 
decorated  with  four 
dents  at  opposite 
angles.  A  gay- 
coloured   scarf,  tied 

in  a  tight  knot,  adorned  his  neck,  and  a 
black  leather  jacket,  dark  blue  linen  trousers, 
turned  up  at  least  4in.,  revealing  high-heeled 
riding  boots  and  spurs,  completed  his  costume. 

At  last  !  This  must  be  a  real  live  cowljoy. 
I  was  at  once  deeply  interested,  and  I'm  afraid 
my  scrutiny  must  have  been  anything  but  timid, 


for,  to  my  astonishment,  he  walked  straight  up 
to  me. 

"Anything  I  can  do,  stranger?"  he  said,  in  a 
friendly  tone,  accomi)anied  with  a  broad  grin 
that  was  vastly  reassuring,  though  it  rather 
annoyed  me.     Why  do  Westerners  always  grin 

at  Easterners, 
especially  newly- 
arrived  ones?  Since 
then  I  have  found 
out,  and  I'm  afraid 
I  do  it  myself. 

"No,  thanks,"  I 
said,  and  then 
changed  my  mind. 
"Well,"  I  added, 
"  I  was  just  wonder- 
ing if  I  could  find 
a  porter,  or  some- 
one, to  carry  my 
bag  to  the  hotel." 

"Gee  !  a  porter  !  " 
he  exclaimed. 
"  Here,  give  me 
your  grip." 

Ot  course,  I 
thought  he  wanted 
to  shake  hands  with 
me,  and  couldn't 
quite  see  the  con- 
nection ;  but  he 
explained  matters 
by  catching   up  my 


handbag. 


swinging 


'aNVIHIM;    I    CAN    Do,    STUAM.ICIv?'    UK    SA1I>, 


It  on  to  his 
shoulder,  and  start- 
i  n g  off  in  the 
direction  of  a 
gloomy-looking  log 
structure  across  the 
road. 

He  deposited  his  burden  inside  the  door, 
and  with  a  gruff  "  There  you  are,  pard,"  was 
about  to  walk  away  when,  like  the  ignorant  idiot 
I  was,  I  produced  a  "quarter"  and  held  it  out 
to  him. 

It  struck  me  he  was  unusually  dense,  for  he 
stared  stolidly  for  a  second  or  two  with  a  look 


ifi 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


II         I  lt.b   «   V. 


»i. 


ii.U 


"I   suppose    the   poor 

V'  and  finally  turned  on 

mile  in  the  corner  of  his 

I  just  in  time. 

1  "  I  suggested, 

in  a  mollified  tone,  and 
things     about     Western 


little  man  appeared,  dressed  in  the  usual 
rancher's  costume.  He  was  rather  breathless 
and  perspiring  freely.  ^      ,  „  ,        ,      /  , 

"  Fire  south  of  Pie  Pot  Creek,"  he  shouted ; 
"  wind  rising ;  all  turn  out  !  "  and  then  made 

for  the  bar.  .    •       ,  >  ,    •, 

There  was  an  instant  stir  in  the  assembled 

crowd.    Some  made  for  the  door,  some  loitered, 


unwilling  to  move. 


The  latter  were  summarily 


i     III-;    lOT   CKKEK,     UK   SIIOUTKIJ. 


■    bar ;   among  other   items    I 

'     '  that  a  man  with  a  "white 

.  '  {Afii;/iii;  collar)  is  in  no 

'ir  to  one  who  wears  a  light  blue  scarf 

It  was  also  a  relief  to  know 

nd    had    excused    my    initial 

f   of  my  extreme   youth   and 


for 


s   in  that  bar-room,  all 

•vn,   and  all  bearing  the 

•d  -  nature.      They 

'  "  broncho- 

Mulrcd  miles 

'Ugued,   but 

iiiiiiiitunily   one  could 

in  a  f]\upt  part  and 

mutual, 

■'    IS  in 

were 

ily  the  door 

tiiicant- looking 


dealt  with.    "  Turn  out ;  you  know  the  penalty ! " 
said  the  new  arrival,  sternly. 

One  by  one  they  obeyed  the  summons  ; 
some  cheerfully,  others  grumbling. 

"  Are  you  going  to  turn  out  ? "  asked  the 
perspiring  little  man.  addressing  me. 

"  Where  ?  "  I  asked,  lamely. 

He  must  have  seen  I  was  a  "  tenderfoot,' 
he  was  merciful,  though  short. 

"There's  a  prairie  fire  way  out  south  of  Pie 
Pot  Creek,"  he  explained.  "  I'm  a  fire-guardian, 
and  it's  my  duty  to  fetch  anyone  within  ten 
miles  to  fight  it.  If  they  refuse  there's  a  penalty 
of  5odols.  to  pay.  You  can  get  a  lift  in  a 
police  waggon  if  you  haven't  a  horse.  Now 
skip!" 

At  this  point  he  took  a  deep  draught  of  beer 
and  heaved  a  sigh  as  if  of  relief  at  having 
disposed  of  his  stock  oration. 

I  looked  helplessly  for  my  companion.  He 
had  vanished.  Outside  the  door,  however,  I 
saw  his  face,  smiling  as  ever  at  my  approach. 


A    "TENDERFOOT"    IN    A    PRAIRIE    FIRE. 


37 


prom  a\       THE  AUTHOK,  WI  III  THE  HORSE  KE  RODE  TO  THK  FIRE.  \Plloto. 


"You're  let    in   for    it,  pard— and  your  first 
night    up    West,    too  ! "    he     remarked,    sym- 
pathetically.    "  You'd  better  come  with  me  ;  I 
can  borrow  a  'cay- 
use  '  and  a  saddle 
for  you." 

In  less  than  a 
(juarter  of  an  hour 
we  were  in  the 
saddle,  alternately 
loping  and  trotting 
over  the  prairie 
towards  a  red  glare 
which  showed  far 
away  on  the  south- 
ern horizon. 

My  interest  was 
now  fully  aroused, 
and  even  the  un- 
certain movements 
of  my  Indian-bretl 
"  cayuse  "  could 
not  baffle  me. 

"  \V— what  St— 
starts  a  pr — prairie 
fite?"  I  inquired, 
between  the  back- 
breaking   jolts,    as    we    trotted    along. 

My  friend,  like  most  cowboys,  was  full  of 
information,  and  not 
in  the  least  loth  to  part 
with  it,  for  which  I  was 
relieved,  as,  for  my  own 
part,  talking  was  a 
matter  that  needed  no 
little  management. 

"Oh,  lots  of  things," 
he  replied,  in  an  un- 
shaken voice  that  might 
have  proceeded  from 
the  recesses  of  a  deep 
arm-chair.  "The 
sparks  from  an  engine, 
you  know,  ashes  from 
a  pipe,  or  a  match 
thrown  away  while  it  is 
still  glowing.  Why,  I've 
known  even  the  sparks 
from  a  horse's  shoe 
striking  a  stone  to  start 
a  fire  I  But  lightning 
starts  more  fires  than 
anything  else — not  an 
ordinary  storm,  but 
just  lightning  and 
thunder  without  rain. 
We  often  get  them  out 
here." 

By  this  time  we  had        /.>w«a]    thk 


brought   our    steeds   to  a    walk,   and    I    could 
speak  with  less  difficulty. 

"  Do  you  get  i)aid  at  all  for  turning  out  like 

this?" 

•  Nut  a  cent," 
was  the  prompt 
reply  :  "  but  you 
have  to  pay  5odols. 
if  you  don't.  Vou 
may  spoil  all  your 
clothes  trying  to 
fight  a  fire,  and  yet 
you  get  nothing 
back.  It's  the  worst 
job  in  the  country. 
It  makes  you  wish 
you  were  a  doctor 
or  a  chemist  for  a 
week — they  don"t 
have  to  turn  out. 
you  know.  But 
you'll  learn  all  )ou 
want  to  of  prairie 
fires  to-night." 

We  loped  on, 
passing  police  wag- 
gons    filled     with 
willing  helpers,  single  men  on  horseback,  and  a 
few  unfortunates  on  foot,  all   making  for  that 

sini.ster  red  patch  that 
grew  brighter  e\  ery 
minute. 

The  wind  was  rising, 
and  the  air  was  slowly 
becoming  more  and 
more  smoke-laden.  My 
companion  looked  an- 
noyingly  comfortable, 
sitting  there  for  all  the 
world  as  though  in  a 
rocking-chair,  while  I 
swayed  from  side  to 
side,  with  my  trousers 
— contrary  to  all  the 
laws  of  gravitation  — 
slowly  working  up  my 
leg  in  a  most  irritating 
fiishion. 

Flames  were  now 
discernible,  flickering 
out  through  huge 
billows  of  black  smoke. 
A  faint  crackling,  too, 
could  be  heard,  grow- 
ing louder  and  louder 
till  it  merged  into  a 
dull  roar,  and  soon 
we  saw  figures  riu! 
hith'T       I'll]       tlv 


IIKE-GUAKUIAN  "  UK  MAIM.E  CKEEK.         \rhotO. 


g  THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE 

\Viu„icVfi\    blackly  against   a  blood-red    back- 


sadden  stop,  my  "  cayuse  " 
tmeously   with    my   com- 
.    shooting    me    over    the 
"  hom  "  ot  the  saddle. 

'  ■■      I  found  myself  gazing  at  the 

prr  ^  .  >urt  of  way,  while  my  com- 

panion, with  practised  fingers,  hastily  tethered  our 
to  a  police  waggon.     Then  he  took  a 
.     ,,    ...  ^.n  coat  from  behind  his  saddle. 

'•  Hav.-n't  you  got  a  *  slicker  '  ?  "  he  remarked. 

"  \  :    see   what   you  can  get   in    the 

w;i.  .Mid  he  disappeared  into  the  smoke. 

1  ■    for    a    little    un)ii[)    of   men    with 


beat  and  beat  at  the  running  lines  of  fire  with 
my  improvised  mop  till  my  arms  felt  like  parting 
company  with  my  body.  Every  now  and  then 
I  would  beat  a  retreat,  running  to  the  waggon 
and  wetting  my  mop  in  a  barrel  of  water  that 
was  kept  filled  from  a  creek  three  miles  away 
by  a  couple  of  industrious  teamsters  who  had 
been  commandeered,  with  their  waggons,  by  the 
zealous  "  fire-guardian."  Once  I  was  so  absorbed 
with  my  mopping  that  I  was  nearly  run  down 
by  a  couple  of  horsemen,  one  on  each  side  of 
the  line  of  fire,  who  were  galloping  along  pell- 
mell,  dragging  between  them  a  wet  cow-hide 
loaded  down  with  chains.  They  again  were 
closely   followed  by  a  crowd  of  beaters  waiting 


I- . 11^(1    MlJIi    UK     Tllli    I.IN'i;    OP    KIKE.' 


fil-i'k.  n.-,!      M„! 


■"■^''"■'"ti     '•"  i-^,     wiio    boon 

I  one.      Re  thrust  a 

'  the  end  of  this 

'  w.itcr  had  been 

find  .vater    in    the 

iiir  lire  when 

were  rajjidly 

at  least  forty, 

"    '  appar- 

i'-^  ijuick- 

>'P  to  my 

jadily, 

■ t,    'uniun.       I 


eagerly  for  a  spark  or  flame  to  escape  the  hide 
to  thrash  it  into  submission  with  "  slickers," 
mops,  sacks,  old  saddle-blankets,  and  even  hats. 

By  this  time,  "green"  though  I  was,  I  was 
scorched  black  and  perspiring  freely,  but  the 
fire  still  spread  inexorably.  It  was  now  ten 
miles  long,  and  had  left  ten  miles  of  burnt  and 
blackened  prairie  in  its  wake.  It  seemed  hope- 
less to  attempt  to  keep  it  back,  and  after  a  final 
_"  whack  "  at  a  flame  that  i)roini)tly  seemed  to 
increase  instead  of  diminishing,  I  gave  up  in 
despair  and  joined  the  ever-increasing  number 
of  exhausted  "sitters-out." 

All  that  night  we  fought  the  flames— an  hour 
at  work,  sometimes  two,  and  then  five  minutes' 


"TENDI'.RI'OOT''     IN     A     rKAiRll.     IlKK. 


30 


I   ^    A         i    II   i    -(jLAkI)       'IF     liJUK     KUKKOWS     W  .  .        il    T 


rest— until  I  thought  I  should  have  dropped 
dead  from  fatigue.  Once  the  fire  approached  a 
haystack.  A  plough  was  promptly  produced 
from  a  waggon,  and  in  ten  minutes  a  "  fire- 
guard "  of  four  furrows  was  cut  around  it  by  four 
horses  and  two  men  working  at  a  hand-gallop.  A 
small  gully  filled  with  brush  next  fell  a  victim. 
The  dry  branches  crackled  and  roared  furiously 
as  the  fire  ran  up  them  and  passed  relentlessly  on, 
leaving  nothing  but  blackened  stumps  behind. 

It  soon  became  apparent  to  everybody  that 
if  the  wind  did  not  change  an  adjacent  stock- 
man's ranch  would  be  the  next  thing  to  be 
destroyed.  Of  course,  it  would  be  protected 
with  a  "fire-guard"  of,  perhaps,  seven  furrows; 
but  what  is  that  to  a  fire  that  will  sometimes 
leap  a  well-worn  trail  12ft.  wide  ?  Needless  to 
say,  the  owner  of  the  ranch  was  with  us,  and 
I  shall  never  forget  with  what  frenzied  energy 
the  poor  fellow  fought  to  .save  his  home,  beating 
at  the  cruel  flames  like  a  man  possessed.  But, 
thank  Heaven,  the  wind  was  decreasing— almost 
imperceptibly,  it  is  true,  but  still  enough  to  put 
fresh  vigour  into  our  aching  bodies. 

Sometimes  a  fire  will  travel  at  fifty  miles  an 
hoiir,  and  no  other  alternative  is  left  to  a  person 
on  foot  than  to  jump  the  "fire  line  "' — the  area 
that  is  actually  burning — a  distance  of  several 
feet,  and  land  on  the  charred  grass  beyond.  He 
is  then  obliged  to  do  a  little  more  jumping  until 
the  ground  grows  cool  enougli   [ov  iiim  U)  stand 


still  on.  No  one  was  compelled  to  resort  to  this 
appalling  practice  that  night,  and  I  was  some 
what  relieved,  for  it  did  not  look  in\iting. 

Suddenly,  as  I  worked,  I  felt  something  wet 
splash  upon  my  forehead.  Of  course,  it  must 
be  a  drop  of  water  from  the  mop,  I  thought, 
and  I  continued  my  thrasiiing  in  the  mechanical 
sort  of  way  I  had  acquired  during  the  last  few 
hours.  But  another  splash  came,' and  another  : 
then  they  came  (luitkly,  one  after  another.  1 
had  been  too  intent  upon  my  work  to  take  note 
of  the  sky  before ;  but  now  I  looked  up  and 
saw  that  it  was  black  with  clouds.  Nearly 
everyone  was  resting  from  his  work  and  gazing 
intently  and  anxiously  at  the  sky.  Unin  !  Yes, 
thank  Heaven  !  it  was  coming  at  last,  and  we 
hailed  it  with  gratefiil  hearts,  for  it  is  the  only 
certain  quencher  of  a  prairie  fire. 

I  say  it  rained  ;  but  it  did  not.  It  simply  fell 
down  in  solid  sheets  of  water,  and  in  less  than  five 
minutes  the  fire  was  over.  Nature  had  accom- 
plished in  that  short  space  of  time  what  the 
hand  of  man  had  failed  to  do  in  a  night  and 
half  a  day.  And  the  stockman  realized  with  a 
bursting  heart  that  his  cherished  home  was  saved. 

There  was  no  smoke  and  no  flame  left—  only 
one  black  pall  covering  the  prairie  farther  than 
the  eye  could  reach.  But  in  less  than  a  week 
after  its  destruction  that  same  black  waste  w.ns 
green  again,  such  is  the  richnt—  '>f  this 
wondeiful  prairie  soil. 


y- 


4^^ 


*     .     ... 


I  t>  *   I  ' 


^Iff    ^ 


'*' s    Ills 


fu 


juumcy    from    Bussorah    to    Baghdad,  through     the     land    of    the    "Arabian 
He    has   much    to   say    concerning    the  curious    sights   and    scenes  to  be  met  with  in   this 
iditional  site  of  the  Garden  of  Eden,  and  where  are  to  be  seen  the  foundations  of 
.)cl,   the  tomb  of  the   prophet  Ezra,  and   the  ruins  of  Babylon  the  Glorious. 


trips   can    present    more 

features  than  that  up  the 

II  the  port  of  liussorah  — 

Al  Hassora  of  Sindbad  the  Sailor 

'■     ''   '  'I,   the   famous  city  of 

IS  in  a  panorama  there 

>re  us  that  wonderful  belt 

\\  for  many   miles  fringes 

'■■■•■  ■'  -'•'•  '>f  the  (larden 

-'•  ;  and  the 

I  he  vast  mounds  of 

'      'St  of  Ha-hdad 

.    of    Hal )y Ion, 

I  tcm[)lt;s,  and 

of  the  world  ; 

"kI  palms  of 

ion    of   the 

worthies  of 


n   the    wii 


....d 


political  circles,  for  that  section  coming  within 
the  scope  of  this  paper,  i.e.^  the  section  joining 
the  Tigris  at  Mosul  and  skirting  the  river  from 
Baghdad  to  Bussorah,  is  justly  considered  to  be 
the  most  important  and  the  one  more  nearly 
calculated  to  affect  British  commerce  than  any 
other  portion  of  this  great  railway  scheme. 

leaving  the  sea  steamer  at  the  port  of  Bus- 
sorah, some  forty  to  fifty  miles  up  the  Shat-el- 
Arab,  we  went  on  board  one  of  the  smart  river 
steamers  of  the  Euphrates  and  Tigris  Company, 
admirably  adapted,  both  in  carrying  capacity 
and  drauglit,  for  the  special  requirements  of  the 
river  traffic.  The  weather  was  extremely  hot, 
but  somewhat  tempered  by  the  "  shimal,"  or 
north-west  wind.  We  passed  raj^idly  up  the 
river,  past  the  date  gardens,  past  the  wonderful 
creeks  or  canals  wliich,  made  by  the  Arabs 
when  at  the  zenith  of  their  power,  still  serve  to 
irrigate  a  great  belt  ot  country  and  transform 
into  a  prolific  and  prosperous  country  what 
would  otherwise  be  a  bleak  and  sterile  desert. 

I  must  say  a  few  words  here  about  the  date- 


TO    THE    CITY    OF    THE    CALIPHS. 


41 


palm,  the  main  support  of  tliis  region.  The 
popular  idea  of  the  date-palm  is  of  a  solitary  and 
stately  tree  relieving  the  monotony  of  an  arid, 
sandy  waste,  or  at  most  a  cluster  rising  like  an 
oasis  in  the  desert.  But  what  do  we  find  here  ? 
Millions  of  acres  along  the  banks  of  this  noble 
river,  for  a  distance  of  at  least  fifty  miles,  are 


villages  with  impunity.  So  the  cautious  inhabi- 
tants built  their  towns  at  a  safe  distance  inland. 
At  the  meeting-place  of  the  two  rivers,  one 
of  the  prettiest  and  most  picturesque  spots  for 
many  hundreds  of  miles,  stands  (lurnah,  the 
traditional  site  of  the  Garden  of  Eden.  Here, 
too,  is  shown  a  tree  of  the  acacia  species  called 


A    TYI'ICAL   DATE   GARDEN — THESE   GARDENS   SEND   NEARLY    SIXTY    MILLION    HOUNDS   OF    DATliS    TO    LONDON    EVERY  YEAR. 

From  a  Photo. 


covered  like  a  dense  forest  with  countless  date- 
palms.  Some  idea  of  the  magnitude  of  the 
yield  may  be  gained  when  it  is  known  that  in  a 
good  year  nearly  a  million  boxes  of  dates,  each 
weighing  on  an  average  6olb.,  come  into  the 
Port  of  London  alone,  while  hundreds  of  tons 
of  poorer  dates,  in  mats  or  baskets,  find  their 
way  to  the  Red  Sea  ports.  The  date  gardens 
form  the  most  striking  feature  of  the  country 
until  we  reach  the  junction  of  the  Tigris  and 
the  Euphrates. 

The  traveller  will  probably  have  noticed  ere 
this  that  all  the  old  towns  and  villages  for  forty 
miles  up  the  river  are  situated  on  the  creeks  a 
few  miles  from  the  main  stream  ;  not  one  of 
them  is  on  the  river  itself.  The  founders  of 
these  communities  had  an  all-sufficing  reason  for 
keeping  away  from  the  river.  Up  to  within, 
say,  twenty  years  ago  the  river  was  infested  with 

pirates,  who  robbed  voyagers  and  burnt  riverside 
VoLjc- 6. 


the  "  Tree  of  Knowledge,"  which  is  po|)ularly 
supposed  to  have  furnished  Adam  and  ICve  with 
their  scanty  wardrobe.  Despite  the  beauty  of 
this  part  of  the  river,  native  travellers  in  com- 
paratively recent  times  went  in  fear  and  trem- 
bling, for  the  pirates  in  their  swift  craft  lay  in 
waiting  up  the  creeks,  while  travellers  who 
elected  to  journey  by  land  ofttimes  had  to  run 
the  gauntlet  of  hungry  lions. 

The  captain  of  our  steamer  related  to  me 
how  on  one  occasion  three  full  grown  lions  were 
seen  walking  along  the  shore  at  the  water's  edge 
about  a  mile  ahead  of  the  steamer.  One  was  shot 
while  trying  to  swim  towards  the  ship,  and  the 
other  two  were  jnirsued  and  finally  shot.  'l"he 
vessel  then  approached  the  shore,  and  the  two 
dead  lionesses  were  taken  on  board.  Some  few 
minutes  later  a  large  male  lion  was  seen  crouch- 
ing on  a  small  spit  of  ground,  surrounded  by 
water,  and  waving  his  tail  as  if  in  distress.    On 


4^ 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


f>eing  fired  at  he  gave  a  tremendous  roar,  and, 
mane  standing  on  end,  advanced  as  if 
•'  -    ^  •'■  when  a  fresh  volley  laid  him 
lis  were  as  follows  :  Length 
troin  head  to  end  of  tail,  9>^ft.  ;  length  of  body, 
'it,   3ft.    gyjin.  ;    weight,    420)6. 
_  _  ^  .iring  of  the  timber  on  the  bunks 

of  the  river  for  use  as  fuel  on  the  steamers  has, 
i   the  lions  to  go  farther  inland. 
i,.  .,    „.v.  .>...cr  perils,  too,  in   this  river  navi- 
gation.     Once   the   Arabs   made    a   desperate 
attempt   to   seize  one   of  the  steamers  of  the 

I     •  ■  -  •      ' ' ;)any  by  shooting  the  man  at  the 

V.  il  of  the  crew,  hoping  that  while 

the   vessel   was   temporarily  helpless   the  swift 
current   would   swing   her  round  to  the  shore. 


of  Kerbelai  and  Nejef  touched  their  foreheads  in 
prayer  on  little  clay  tablets  of  holy  soil  ;  and 
pompous  Turks  eyed  the  varied  throng  super- 
ciliously. All  these  races  were  jumbled  up 
amongst  a  bewildering  paraphernalia  of  cooking 
pots,  quilts,  carpet-bags,  cages  of  fowls,  and 
goodness  knows  what  else  besides.  At  midday 
the  sun  beat  pitilessly  down,  and,  as  if  to  mock 
the  sweltering  throng,  the  snow-capped  mountains 
of  the  Bakhtiyari  country  stood  clear  and  cool 
against  the  distant  horizon,  and  in  the  sheltered 
creeks  flocks  of  white  pelicans  reposed  con- 
tentedly. 

On  the  following  day  we  sighted  on  the  right 
bank  of  the  river  a  blue  mosque-like  dome  of 
shining  enamelled  bricks  or  tiles,  which  tradition 


»..>*«k«,  ur   THK   EU.-HRATK.S   AND    TIGRIS   COMPANV-THE    OESR.KT   ARAHS    HAVF,    SKVFRA,     TIMES 
MADE    ATTEMI'TS   TO   SEIZE   THESE   VESSELS.  [/vL/j 


I' 


it  w.is   foiled   by  the  intre- 

.    'in,    who,    although    badly 

himself  look  the  helm  and  steered  his 

of  the  stream  again. 

I,  .,t...|   ^^.j(|,  awnings  from 

■  >  of  the-  deck  space 

r  the  native  passengers,  who 

•■oulfl   well    be 

que  with  camel- 

r  rather  bellow- 

rs  sat  com- 


pomts  to  as  Ezra's  tomb— the  prophet,  it  is  said, 
having  died  here  while  on  a  mission  to  Persia. 
The  dome  rises  from  a  quadrangle  of  mud  walls 
about  20ft.  high  and  forty  yards  sciuare.  The 
main  entrance,  a  handsome  enamelled  doorway, 
IS  on  the  north  side  ;  the  walls  are  battlemented 
and  the  windows  placed  very  high,  and  with  its 
surrounding  palms  it  forms  a  singularly  striking 
Oriental  picture.  The  place  is 'venerated  not 
only  by  Moslems  and  Jews  alike,  but  also  by 
Oriental  Christians,  and  many  of  the  passengers 
went  ashore  to  visit  it. 

After  passing  Ezra's    tomb    the    character  of 


TO  TiiE  cnv   OF    rni:  caliphs. 


43 


t  h  e  c  o  11  II  t  r  y 
changed ;  the  banks 
of  the  liver  became 
liigher  ;  there  were 
fewer  objects  of  in- 
terest. The  river 
was  devoid  of  life 
save  for  the  native 
boats,  usually  a  fleet 
at  a  time,  or  the 
passage  of  one  of 
the  dilapidated 
steamers  of  the 
Oman  Ottoman 
Company,  resem- 
bling nothing  so 
much  as  an  anima- 
ted rag-shop, 
puffing  and  blow- 
ing like  an  asth- 
matic rhinoceros, 
and  m  o  v  i  n  g 
through  the  water 
at  the  appalling 
speed  of  about  five 
miles  an  hour. 
Sometimes  these 
ancient  vessels 
flatly  refuse  to  go 
at  all,  and  the  pas- 
sage of  520  miles 
from  Bussorah, 
usually  a  matter  of 
about    five   or    six 


r.. 


■<C-:'>,\ 


-»-»- npi  xif     I  t^m\*0)m>mtmmitm 


VLiiiiu;.    101:. la    lo    iiiii.    i.lilljI.-.o  as    lui.    luMi,  ui    i.,:i;a     i.ii ■.  .. 

— THE    PLACE    IS    REGARDED    AS   SACRED    BV    BOTH  JEWS   AND   MOSLEMS. 

From  a  Photo. 


days,  may  well  be- 
come prolonged  to 
a  fortnight.  This, 
however,  is  of  little 
moment  to  the 
ordinary  native,  to 
whom  time  is  of  no 
object  whatever. 

At  Amarah,  an 
Arab  town  of  sun- 
dried  bricks,  situa- 
ted on  the  verge 
of  a  bank  a  little 
above  the  broad, 
turbid  waters  of  the 
river,  we  .saw  for 
the  first  time  those 
wonderfully  ancient 
boats  —  ancient 
even  when  Hero- 
dotus mentioned 
them  — called 
"kufas"  or  "go- 
phers." They  are 
deep,  round 
baskets,  in  appear- 
ance somewhat 
like  the  rude 
coracles  of  the 
ancient  Britons, 
and  are  covered 
with  bitumen, 
with  incurved 
tops.      These 


THE   CURIOUS   ROUND    BOATS   WHICH    HAVE   BEEN    USED   ON    THE   EUPHRATES    FKOM    TIME    IMMEMOKIAl. 

From  a  Photo. 


44 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


boul   shaped  craft  are   propelled    by  means  of 


li. 


LuiLuous  :  at 


,,n  ,  ,      ,  ly     called     the 

w,"  the  current  is  very  swift,  and 
iiicfc  arc  many  dangerous  shallows  which  have 
to  be  p'-.'  ''■'•!  with  exceeding  care.  The 
traveller  :  ly  struck  with  the  incredible 

apathy  and  neglect  which  render  the  navigtition 
of  "'  '^jle  waterway  a  source  of  ever-increas- 
in^.  ty    to    natives   and    Europeans  alike. 

I'his  apathy    is    in    striking    contrast    to    the 
-  adopted  by  the  ancient  Kings, 

.     .. little  baked  tablets  found  at 

Habylun— and  probably  dating  back  to  about 
—  may  be  read  the  stringent  orders 
the  then  ruler,   King  Khaninuirabi, 
-    the 
sary    r- 
to    the 
In  some 
tcasoDS      th 


gets  so 
^..  ...iw  that 
navi{»ation    is 

1     lur 
jht- 


:s 


banks   to    such 


from  m 


Mil  K    ,IK    WW.    SUN 
lltlLT   FROM    THE 


it    has    become    a    broad, 

'■  -Mg  an  enormous  quantity 

Id    otherwise    run    down 

•condly,    the    canals    in- 

!t    at    such    angles 

is  rush  into  them, 

and    become    pracli- 

ilte    main   stream.      These 

.     trM.i    .1,.:..  (1^^.  ^vaters  far 

to  be  wasted. 

by  the   Porte  to 

■   -d    in    the 

i'.irty  being 

•y  the  Arabs  near 

>rk  they  had  accom- 

by  the  Tigris,  which 


extend  for  many  miles  inland,  are  the  habitat  of 
several  powerful  Arab  tribes,  who  live  in  mat 
huts  among  the  reeds  and  tall  grasses,  and  are  a 
constant  thorn  in  the  side  of  the  Turks. 
Some  few  years  back  the  Turks  sent  up  an 
expedition  to  exterminate  them,  and  the  ex- 
pedient they  adopted  was  as  novel  as  it  was 
ineffective.  Realizing  that  it  would  be  useless 
to  try  to  run  them  to  earth  in  this  vast 
district  of  perilous  bog  and  marsh,  or  to  fight 
them  by  the  methods  usually  employed  in 
civilized  warfare,  the  Turks  laboriously  set  to 
work  to  form  a  cordon,  so  far  as  their  limited 
numbers  permitted,  round  the  marshes.  They 
then  saturated  a  belt  of  dry  reeds  with  paraffin 
and  set  light  to  them.  Long  before  the  fire 
was     under     way     the      amused     tribes     had 

vanished  into 
space  by  devi- 
ous and  wind- 
ing paths  only 
known  to  them- 
selves, and  the 
Turks  had  to 
retire  discom- 
fited. Boars  of 
immense  size 
may  frequently 
be  seen  sleeping 
on  little  islands 
of  reeds  which 
they  have  tram- 
pled down.  So 
dangerous  and 
destructive 
are  these 
brutes  that 
the  marsh 
tribes  afford 
every  facility 
and  assistance 
to  European 
boar-hunting   parties  from    Baghdad. 

Troops  of  boys  and  young  men  often  ran 
along  the  banks  beside  the  steamer,  begging 
for  backsheesh.  One  vivacious  damsel  danced 
merrily  along  the  bank,  laughingly  inviting  one 
of  the  deck  passengers— a  picturesque  Arab— 
to  be  sure  and  stop  to  eat  dates  with  a  certain 
tribe  farther  up  the  river.  He  winced,  and  the 
grave,  bearded  faces  of  his  companions  broke 
mto  smiles,  for  they  knew  that  he  was  badly 
wanted  by  the  tribe  in  question  for  two  un- 
pardonable offences -the  abduction  of  a  young 
girl  of  the  tribe  and  the  theft  of  her  father's 
camel,  an  aggregate  of  audacity  only  to  be 
atoned  for  by  the  spilling  of  blood.  "Child  of 
the  devil  !  "  he  muttered,  furiously,  while  the 
others  poetically  termed  her  a  child  of  the  sun. 


AT   CIKSIlHii.N— n      l>     s,\U> 
KUINS   OK  UAUYl.ON. 


irA\b:     UKE.N 

[Photo. 


I'o  nil.   (  rrv  oi     ruE  cai.iimis. 


45 


About  twenty  miles  in  a  direct  lino  from 
Baghdad  \vc  saw  the  magniriceiit  Arch  of  the 
Palace  or  Temple  of  the  Sun  at  Ctesipiion,  the 
ancient  Parthian  capital.  Despite  the  ravages 
of  time  the  ruins  can  be  seen  for  miles,  but  our 
attention  was  riveted  by  the  majestic  arch, 
which  rises  to  a  height  of  looft.  from  the  ruins 
which  cover  the  ground.  The  width  of  the  arch 
is  82ft.,  and  the  thickness  of  the  sup{)orting 
walls  about  19ft.  Strolling  westwards  to  the 
river  we  obtained  an  excellent  view  of  the 
ruined  walls  of  sun-dried  bricks  and  mounds  of 
debris^  all  that  remains  of  the  once  famous  city 
of  Seleucia,  which  stood  opposite  to  Ctesiphon. 
Both  Ctesiphon  and  Seleucia  are  said  to  have 
been  built  from  the  ruins  of  Babylon,  and  in 
their  turn  furnished  materials  for  the  city  of 
Baghdad,  which,  w^ith  all  its  vicissitudes,  still 
retains  much  of  the  Oriental  splendour  for 
which  during  more  than  ten  centuries  it  has 
been  famous. 

The  simplicity  and  poverty  of  the  lower  class 
of  the  wandering  tribes  of  Bedouins,  a  typical 
tribe  of  whom  we  visited  at  Ctesiphon,  are 
remarkable.  All  the  worldly  wealth  of  a  family 
consists  of  movables,  of  which  the  following  is 
a  pretty  exact  inventory  :  a  few  camels,  some 
goats  and  poultry,  a  mare,  a  tent,  a  lance,  a 
crooked  sabre,  a  rusty  musket,  with  a  flint  or 
matchlock,  a  pipe,  a  portable  mill,  a  pot  for 
cooking,  a  leathern  bucket,  a  small  coffee  roaster, 
a  mat,  some  clothes,  a  mantle  of  black  wool, 
and  a  few  glass  or  silver  rings  which  the  women 
wear  upon  their  legs  and  arms.  If  none  of 
these  are  wanting  their  furniture  is  complete. 
But  what  the  poor  man 
stands  most  in  need  of  is 
his  mare,  fur  this  animal 
is  his  principal  support ; 
with  her  he  makes  his  ex- 
cursions or  seeks  plunder. 
The  Arabs  have  little  in- 
dustry, as  their  wants  are 
few  ;  all  their  arts  consist 
in  weaving  their  tents  and 
in  making  mats  and  butter. 
Their  commerce  extends 
to  exchanging  camels, 
kids,  stallions,  and  milk 
for  arms,  clothing,  dates, 
a  little  rice  or  corn,  and 
money.  This  latter  they 
bury.  Their  literature  is 
practically  bound  u[)  in 
tales  and  histories,  both 
strongly  tinged  with 
imagination.  They  have 
a  peculiar  passion  for 
reciting    stories.       In   the        i-,oma 


evening  they  seat  themselves  on  the  sand, 
ranged  in  a  circle  round  a  little  fire,  their  pipes 
in  their  mouths  and  their  legs  crossed.  'I'hey 
sit  awhile  in  silent  meditation  till  all  of  a 
sudden  one  of  them  breaks  forth  with  some 
romantic  story  after  the  style  of  the  "Arabian 
Nights." 

Beyond  Ctesiphon  the  cultivation  increases 
until  within  a  few  miles  of  Baghdad  the  banks 
are  even  po[)ulous.  Near  Baghdadieh  Reach 
we  passed  the  wreck  of  an  ill-fated  steamer 
called  the  Dijk/i,  the  top  of  whose  boilers 
a[)[)ears  above  the  water  during  the  low  season. 
Although  it  is  well  known  that  she  was  sunk  by 
coming  into  collision  with  a  native  "  buggaloiv," 
yet  an  Arab  on  board  described,  with  great 
minuteness  of  detail,  how  she  ran  into  a  whale, 
and  how  the  said  whale  floated  down  to  Bussorah 
and  was  sold  to  a  museum  by  the  British 
Consul  for  £,S°'^-  ^  '^"^  evolution  of  this 
mythical  story  was  obviously  the  ingenious 
linking  together  of  two  distinct  occurrences— to 
wit,  the  sinking  of  the  Dijleh  and  the  capture  of 
a  huge  black  fish — events,  however,  separated 
by  considerable  periods  of  time,  so  that  the 
commonplace  might  be  lifted,  to  the  realm  of 
the  marvellous.  The  big  black  lish  was,  indeed, 
taken  to  Bussorah,  but  instead  of  gracing  a 
museum  it  was  melted  down  by  the  natives  for 
its  oil,  the  appalling  smell  of  which,  the 
European  residents  declared,  hung  about  the 
place  for  weeks. 

The  first  view  of  Baghdad,  the  capital  of  the 
Turkish  province  of  Baghdad,  is  a  magnificent 
one.     Lofty  walls  and  houses  and  towers  rise 


46 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


,1)1  -r^^tii'Mf  tiff 'Ti^J^jljl^       rtr* 


THE    FAMOUS    BKIl 


Als    Al     I'.Al.HDAli 


U'hoto. 


t    an    I  iciu  of   palms   and 

„        5,  and,  .-  all,  cu[)ulas,  glcaniiiig 

and  the  minarets  of  a  hundred  niostjues 
scene  rc!  'v  striking.     Our  attcnti 

ar'-  ■'■''    .,    ....    picturcscjue  but  rickety 
o:  the  fine  brick  building,  once  a 

during  the  days 
of  •■■  '"  '  - '  •.-, 
♦  .  a 

■imhousr 
t; 


orange 
domes, 
form  a 
on  was 
bridge 
college 


e  of 

I  1.1  w 

..  I 


oi  .; 

in    tl. 

lance   the   top  of- 

/.  '      ■  •       •      ■ 
I: 


for 


I. 


notables  who  have  carriages  have  to  take 
elaborate  precautions  to  prevent  meeting  in  the 
street,  for  a  rencontre  of  this  nature  is  liable  to 
open  up  most  intricate  and  perilous  questions  of 
precedence.  The  houses  of  the  rich  are  hand- 
some, having  windows  of  Venetian  glass,  orna- 
mented ceilings, 
and  a  courtyard  in 
front,  containing 
small  plantations 
of  orange  and 
lime  trees.  The 
balhs  and  coffee- 
houses, though 
not  kept  in  good 
re[)air,  are  well 
frequented,  and 
the  markets  plenti- 
fully supplied  with 
l)io\isi()ns.  The 
cost  of  living  is 
moderate. 

The  bazaars  are 
very  disappointing 
after  those  of  Con- 
s  t  a  n  t  i  n  o  ji  1  e  or 
Cairo  or  'reheran, 
and  one  looks  in 
vain  for  the  jewel- 
led and  damas- 
cened sword- 
l)lades  and  dag- 
L!;ers,  the  inlaid 
armour,  the  ex- 
quisitely chased 
articles    of     brass 


AUAUIAN    MOHin.' 


To  THK   crrv   OF    rill.   (  ai.ii'HS. 


47 


nntl  bronze,  the  rich  silks,  brocades,  and 
embroideries,  and  all  the  other  beautiful  and 
valuable  articles  so  characteristic  of  the  more 
noted  ba/aars  of  the  East. 

There  is  much  to  be  seen  in   Baghdad,  how- 


shoes  and  clouted  upon  their  feet,  and  old 
garments  u[)on  them  "—for  an  extraordinary 
number  of  pilgrims,  probably  a  quarter  of 
a  million  annually,  pass  through  to  the 
sacred  cities  of   Mesopotamia.        There   is   no 


Frovi  a 


THE    OAK-GALL    MARKET    AT    BAGHDAD. 


[I'/ioto. 


ever,  much  that  is  strikingly  beautiful — the 
stately  river  front  of  the  city,  the  glorious  sun- 
sets, the  ceaseless  movements  of  hundreds  of 
boats  and  coracles  upon  the  bosom  of  the  turbid 
waters,  the  caravans  of  asses  laden  with  huge 
fish  or  skins  of  water,  the  fine  mosques  and 
minarets,  and  the  ever-changing  kaleidoscope  of 
life  and  colour  ; 
Arabs  of  majes- 
tic mien,  portly 
Turks,  polished 
Persians,  the 
meek  Armenian 
and  the  quaint 
Chaldean,  the 
tall,  shapeless 
bundles  rej)re- 
senting  the  fair 
se.x,  their  faces 
closely  veiled 
with  hideous 
black  masks  of 
cloth  or  muslin. 
Pilgrims  from 
far-off  Bokhara 
and  Samarkand 
are  here,  look- 
ing like  the  men 

Ot    (.ibeon,   "old  Fro,,,  a\ 


hurry,  no  bustle,  and  it  is  hard  to  realize  that 
these  are  descendants  of  that  selfsame  people 
who  during  the  reign  of  Sultan  Nouredilin 
Mahmoud  actually  had  the  enterprise  to  establish 
a  pigeon-post  service,  which  was  not  destroyed 
until  the  Mongols  took  Baghdad.  Between  the 
city  and   the  Shiah  suburb   of  Kazimain,   with 

superb  mosque, 
there  runs  a 
tramway,  one  of 
the  few  modern 
enter{)riscs  in 
the  city.  It  has 
proved  as  con  • 
vcnient  to  the 
|)eople  as  it  has 
licen  remunera- 
t  i  \-  e  to  the 
( 'lovernment. 

The      River 

Tigris   occasion- 

.illy    bursts     its 

banks,   and    the 

town    on     both 

•  '  s  of  the  river 

i    becomes 

completely   sur- 

nded     by 

r.      In  1896 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


t     li    'roved   ihe  whole  of  the   crops;   30,000 

-.hed  in  the  floods ;  the  lower  storeys 

were  T       '    '    and  all   the  great 

^  were   _...,  ^rarily  closed.     The 

a»t  could  not  call  to  mind  such  an 

;  rise.     It  extended  to  Bussorah, 

no  fewer  than  two  million  palms — 

V   to   the  community.     Ahhough 

lie  520  miles  from  the  sea,  yet  at 

'  sted  by  sharks,  and  many 

.     -  „ii   this  cause.     One  shark, 

in  1899,  was  found  to  be  over  9ft.  in 

■'"■<■•         ;     iJaghdad,    notwithstanding 

lion   in   temperature  between 

r  and  wmter,  and  the  total  absence  of  any 

•  "on,  is   rcmaikably   healthy,   as 

I'^uropeans   can   testify.     The 

heat  is  greatest  from   May  to  October,  and  for 

>     following    the     midday    meal 

.     .   entirely   suspended,  and    Baghdad 

to  the  "  serdabs  "  (underground  dwellings) 

to  of    snow-capped    mountains,    rose 

id  ri;)pling  brooks.     Evening  sees  the 

.    up  on   the   flat   roofs    to  catch    the 

and  sleep  there  ;  the  lamps  are  lighted, 

"'  \tremely  pretty. 

I   say  of  spring?     It   has  an 

•-•  so  clear  that  the  blue  ether  has  not 

■ad  to  break  the  illimitable  space.   Objects 


miles  away  seem  close  at  hand,  and  the  wretched 
hovels  and  huts  and  tents  of  the  wandering 
Arabs,  under  the  influence  of  the  soft  trans- 
parent light,  acquire  an  ethereal  beauty.  ^Vild 
flowers  appear  in  profusion  ;  the  air  is  laden 
with  the  intoxicating  perfumes  of  orange 
blossoms  and  myrtle ;  the  desert  belies  its 
name  and  bears  many  grasses. 

Irak,  the  country  between  Bussorah  and 
Mosul,  including  the  large  tract  between  the 
Tigris  and  the  Euphrates  known  as  Mesopo- 
tamia, once  teemed  with  a  wealthy,  thriving 
population,  but  is  now  almost  a  howling  wilder- 
ness. \'ast  expanses  of  perfect  alluvial  soil, 
watered  by  two  great  rivers,  with  their  in- 
numerable offshoots  and  tributaries,  lie  almost 
wholly  unoccupied :  land  capable  of  a  most 
complete  irrigation  system  —  in  fact,  in  very 
many  cases  it  is  only  necessary  to  clean  out 
the  ancient  channels,  which  are  in  a  state 
of  excellent  preservation.  Famine  and  pesti- 
lence have  stalked  unchecked  through  the 
land  and  swept  off  the  population,  and  bad 
government  with  its  concomitant  evil,  excessive 
taxation,  has  com[)leted  the  rest.  \\'ith  the 
exception  of  Baghdad  and  Bussorah,  and 
perhaps  Hillah  on  the  Euphrates,  there  are  no 
towns  worthy  of  the  name;  but  while  the 
general  population  under  Moslem  rule  has 
decreased,    the    population    of     Baghdad    has 


\'-    CAMItU   ON    TUlt    UANks   l,^     I  (IB    I  IOKI.S. 


\riwto. 


TO    THE    CITY    OK     1111      (  Al.lPHS. 


49 


steadily  increased  until  it  is  now  about  120,000, 
of  which  the  Jews  alone  are  said  to  number 
30,000.  The  traveller  passes  over  miles  and 
miles  of  seemingly  limitless  alluvial  plain — land 
capable  of  feeding  its  millions  as  in  the  days 
of  old,    but    at    present   uninhabited.     At   rare 


iUit  no  look  of  encouragement  came  his  way, 
so  just  as  the  merchants  were  dishing  up  tlie 
food  he  boldly  went  up  to  the  group,  gravely 
passed  the  usual  salutation,  and  took  a  scat. 
Then  dexterously  catching  a  too-vcnturesomc 
field  rat,  which  was  hovering  near,  he  tossed  it 


i  >  o:it  .i  j 


IIIL     lliAlJll  lONAl.    SITE    Ol       liit     1. 


W.K    ol-     i>.. 


intervals  he  meets  an  Arab  caravan  and  is 
greeted  with  the  customary  salutation,  "  Salaam 
Aleikoum  "("  Peace  be  with  you  "),  which  he 
takes  for  exactly  what  it  is  worth,  knowing  full 
well  that  were  he  without  an  escort  the  Bedouin 
would  promptly  strip  him  of  everything  and 
leave  him  naked  in  the  desert. 

Caravans  may  often  be  seen  camping  on  the 
banks  of  the  Tigris.  An  amusing  incident  in 
connection  with  one  of  these  caravans  came 
under  my  notice,  and  is,  perhaps,  worth  record- 
ing. A  number  of  well  to-do  merchants  were 
seated  round  a  huge  copper  cauldron,  in  which, 
to  judge  from  the  appetizing  odour,  a  savoury 
stew  was  being  prepared  for  the  evening  repast. 
Near  by  squatted  a  gaunt,  hungry-looking  Arab, 
furtively  eyeing  in  turn  both  pot  and  merchants, 
and  waiting  patiently  for  the  usual  hospitable 
invitation,   "  Bismillah,"  to  share  in   the  meal. 


into  the  cauldron,  saying  :  "  Hadjis,  there  is 
my  contribution  to  the  pot!"  This  had  the 
expected  effect.  The  merchants  were  so  dis- 
gusted that  they  abandoned  the  spoilt  dish, 
with  many  imprecations,  to  the  not  over- 
fastidious  Arab,  who  at  once  proceeded  to  do 
full  justice  to  it. 

Space  will  not  permit  of  my  dealing  with  the 
many  places  of  interest  in  and  near  the  romantic 
city  of  the  Caliphs.  The  splendid  tomb  on 
the  west  side  of  the  city,  now  little  more  than  a 
ruin,  said  to  be  the  resting-place  of  Zobeida, 
the  wife  of  the  Caliph  Haroun-el-Kaschid,  the 
famous  lady  of  the  "Thousand  and  One  Nights"; 
the  mysterious  ruin  known  as  the  "  Birj  Nim- 
roud,"  or  the  Tower  of  Babel  ;  the  extensive 
and  oft-described  ruins  of  Babylon— these  are 
but  a  few  of  the  places  that  will  well  repay  a 
visit. 


Vol.  X  -7. 


"NO    TUCKER  I" 

AX  EXPERIENCE  ON  THE  NEW  ZEALAND  GUM-FIELDS. 

By  E.  Way  Elkington. 

The  gum-diggers'  camp  was  cut  off  from  the  nearest  town  by  widespread  floods,  which  prevented  the 
supply  waggons  from  reaching  the  camp,  and  starvation  stared  the  diggers  in  the  face.  In  this  dire 
r  .•    the    men   drew   lots   to    decide  which    of  their   number    should    endeavour   to   make   his   way 

t,         _      ten  miles  of  swamp  and  flood  and  fetch  provisions.     The  task  fell  to  the  author,  who  herein 
describes  his  terrible  journey  to  fetch  food  for  his  starving  companions. 

able  spot  at  which  to  ply  their  trade — or  pro- 
fession, as  they  prefer  to  call  it. 

Situated  as  Oknreirei  was,  we  had  no  fear  of 
ever  having  to  turn  out,  our  only  cause  for 
alarm  being  the  fact  that  if  the  winter  floods 
became  heavy,  and  the  rains  continued  for  a 
lengthy  period  at  a  time,  we  might  find  our- 
selves cut  off  from  communication  with  Toka 
Toka,  and  so  run  out  of  food. 

Our  storekeeper,  however,  had  as  good  a 
transport  service  as  any  man  in  the  North 
Island,  and  unless  something  quite  out  of  the 
common  ha[)pened  we  knew  we  should  be  all 
right.  So,  when  the  rains  came  and  the  winds 
howled,  and  other  camps  were  suffering  from 
various  troubles,  we  of  Okareirei  sat  in  our  cosy 
tvhares  and  smiled  with  an  air  of  superiority. 

Our  smiles,  however,  grew  faint  and  less 
frequent  as  each  day  we  saw  our  little  creek 
growing  larger  and  more  boisterous,  and 
astonishment  was  on  everyone's  face,  even  our 


I' RING  the  winter  of  1894  I  was 
•;ng  to  the  full  the  rough  side  of 
<  ..jnial  life  in  New  Zealand.  I 
had  heard  many  exciting  tales  of 
life  on  the  gum-fields,  and  was  told 
that  no  man  could  ever  be  a  Colonial  until  he 
had  served  an  apprenticeship  at  gum-digging. 
The  little  I  had  seen  of  the  diggers  impressed  me 
f.L  '  My.  Amongst  them  I  had  met  several 
^  :\\    so    one   day    in    the    company   of 

an  old  digger — an  e.x-captain  in  Her  Majesty's 
service— I  purchased  the  necessary  implem.ents, 
a  spade  and  a  spear,  and  journeyed  to  the 
Wairoa.  A  fortnight  later  I  was  established 
at  a  camp  called  Okareirei,  some  ten  miles 
from  Toka  Toka.  This  camp  in  summer-time 
rnust  have  been  an  ideal  spot,  as  it  lay  in  the 
hollow  of  some  beautiful  hills  and  was  sur- 
T'  '  !  on  all  sides  by  heavy  bush  and 
I'  jUc  scrub.     It  was  pitched  in  a  hollow 

on  the  slope  of  a  hill  thoroughly  sheltered 
from  the  winter  winds, 
and  yet  not  too  far  from 
the  creek  which  ran  at 
the  foot  and  from  which 
•'       '  ->t    their 

1  the  creek 

by  the  bush  from  which 
V         •     iir  fircwoinl  and 

«' ^.;  the  timber  and 

fulms    to    build    whares 


Ihe    hills    all 


or  swamps 
the 


had 


"  W«   OF    OKAKEIKBI    SAT    IN    OUR  COSV    WHARfts.' 


"NO   TUCKER!" 


51 


philosophic  and  lethargic  doctor's,  when  one 
day  we  saw  our  little  bridge  swept  bodily  away 
by  the  rising  waters. 

Some,  more  careful  than  others,  had  laid  in 
a  stock  of  firewood  when  they  saw  the  creek 
beginning  to  swell  ;  but  then  they  were  "  new 
chums,"  and  the  old  hands  laughed  cynically 
at  their  fears.  Now,  however,  the  veterans 
looked  glum.  A  week  later  they  became 
actually  morose  when  they  found  it  necessary  to 
dig  for  firewood  and  obtain  heat  from  burning 
old  kauri  logs,  saturated  with  gum,  which  were 
not  pleasant,  and  made  their  bread  taste 
horribly  of  resin. 

Worse  things  followed.  The  rains  continued, 
and  for  the  first  time  in  the  memory  of  the 
oldest  digger  in  Okareirei  the  "  catamaran  "  (the 
name  given  to  the  bullock-waggon),  with  the 
month's  provisions,  did  not  arrive. 

The  diggers'  gum  was  all  packed  carefully 
away  in  sacks  and  stood  outside  each  man's 
whare,  ready  to  be  sold  and  exchanged  for 
food,  and  the  men  waited  patiently  for  the 
rumbling  sound  of  the  wheels.  "Tucker  day" 
was  always  a  holiday  in  the  camp,  and  each 
man  had  a  kind  of  clean  up.  The  men  occu- 
pied themselves  going  round  to  each  other's 
huts  examining  the  quality  and  quantity  of  the 
result  of  their  month's  work. 

The  diggers  sat  up  late  that  night,  wondering 
what  had  happened.  They  had  waited  and 
waited,  expecting  every  minute  to  hear  the 
rumbling  of  the  old  cart  or  the  hoofs  of  the 
pack-horses,  for  when  the  roads  were  bad 
the  storekeeper  would  send  his  horses  along 
with  enough  provisions  for  a  week  or  so.  If 
pack-horses  could  not  travel  the  roads  then  the 
bullocks  would  be  sent  with  a  sleigh,  but  this  day 
there  was  no  sign  or  sound  which  told  of  coming 
victuals.  Soon  the  diggers  gave  up  waiting  and 
dragged  their  sacks  of  gum  inside  tlicir  whares 
again,  forgetting  their  anxiety  in  sleep. 

So  the  days  passed.  We  thought,  as  each  one 
came,  that  the  next  would  surely  bring  us  food, 
but  more  than  a  week  went  by  without  a  sign 
from  the  outside  world.  A  party  sent  out  to 
investigate  had  discovered  that  the  country  for 
miles  around  was  flooded  and  that  most  of  the 
roads  were  invisible.  This  was  lively  news  for 
us,  as  food  was  getting  extremely  scarce.  Many 
men  had  completely  run  out  of  it,  but  whilst 
there  was  an  ounce  of  flour  or  a  tin  of  meat  left 
in  the  camp  each  man  had  a  share  of  it. 

What  made  matters  rather  worse  than  they 
would  have  been  was  that  one  of  the  diggers 
was  laid  u{)  with  bronchitis  and  was  suffering 
tortures  from  the  want  of  medicine  and  good 
food.  This,  and  the  fact  that  the  last  stick  of 
tobacco  had  been  reached,  led  us  to  consider 


seriously  what  could  be  done.  Finally,  we 
decided  to  draw  lots  for  one  of  our  number  to 
brave  the  elements,  the  swamps,  and  flooded 
creeks,  and  make  his  way  to  the  store  and  there 
secure  fojd,  medicine,  and  tobacco  for  the 
starving  camp. 

With  my  usual  luck  I  was  the  man  selected. 
To  my  lot  fell  tiiis  enjoyable  trip  ;  and,  to  make 
matters  worse,  an  old  Irishman  who  felt  sure 
he  would  die  if  he  remained  any  longer  at 
Okareirei  begged  me  to  let  him  come  with  me. 
Even  for  myself  the  task,  I  knew,  would  be  no 
light  one,  but  to  be  accompanied  by  an  old 
man  of  seventy,  who  confessed  that  he  was 
nearly  dead,  made  all  the  difference  in  the 
world,  and  for  some  minutes  I  hesitated. 
Eventually  I  gave  in  and  consented  to  let  him 
come,  for  I  liked  the  old  cha[)  and  had  always 
considered  him  a  most  interesting  and  amiable 
companion. 

At  daylight  the  next  morning,  before  any  of 
the  other  diggers  were  astir,  we  started  off  on 
our  long  tramp.  The  air  was  sharp  and  cold, 
and  a  fine  drizzling  rain,  which  looked  as  if  it 
never  intended  to  stop,  greeted  us  as  we  left  our 
tents.  On  starting  I  noticed  with  some  alarm 
that  my  companion  was  carrying  a  heavy 
"swag"  containing  his  clothes  and  household 
goods.  My  suggestion  that  he  should  leave  at 
least  half  of  it  behind  did  not  meet  with  his 
approval.  He  would  not  hear  of  it,  and  laughed 
at  my  fears  as  to  his  ability  to  carry  it  along  the 
rough  road. 

When  we  reached  the  top  of  the  hill  which 
overlooked  our  home,  I  took  a  last  look  at  the 
sleeping  camp  lying  snugly  below,  its  occupants 
quite  oblivious  of  the  rain  and  wind  and  mud, 
and  in  my  heart  I  envied  them.  So  far,  beyond 
a  little  slipping,  we  had  experienced  no  ditTiculty 
in  getting  along,  and  my  companion  was  in 
excellent  spirits  and  seemed  glad  that  he  had 
seen  the  last  of  Okareirei.  I  began  to  feel  that 
his  company  would  be  an  advantage  and  would 
lighten  the  long,  dreary  journey  through  the 
floods  to  Toka  Toka. 

For  fully  an  hour  we  were  able  lo  h)llow  the 
ridge  of  a  set  of  hills.  It  was  a  roundabout 
route,  but  comparatively  dry,  whilst  the  way  by 
the    roads,  we  heard,  was    next  to  ini]' 

The  continual  slipping  was  naturally  t.i:  ., .., 

and  the  wet  scrub  we  had  to  travel  through 
soaked  us  to  the  skin  ;  beyond  these  two  dis- 
advantages we  had  little  to  grumble  at  and 
began  to  think  lightly  of  the  appalling  rumours 
we  had  heard. 

At  eight  o'clock  we  reachetl  the  enil  of  the 
range  of  hills.  Below  us  lay  the  plain,  hidden 
from  view  by  thick  foliage,  which  grew  right  up 
the   sides   of  the  hill.      Thinking   a   rest   and 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


smoke  would  do  us  no  harm,  we  sat  down  and 

<    •  ' '  '  -1  the  distance  we  had  yet  to  travel. 

.\:  jn,  I  soon  noticed,  had  become  less 

communicative.  His  "swag,"  now  thoroughly 
S.I  1  with  rain,  was  about  twice  its  original 

w_  ^  ,  Aiid  as  he  slid  it  off  his  back  I  could  see 
the  old  man  had  already  begun  to  feel  its 
weight.  A  ten  minutes'  smoke,  however, 
freshened  us  up  an<]  \v  started  again  on  our 
journey. 

Going  down  the  steep  sides  of  the  hill 
t\.-  ':  w«*t  ti-tree  from  3ft.  to  5ft.  high  and 
f.  -    a    narrow,    slippery    track    was    very 

different  from  our  previous  experience,  and  we 
soon  found  it  necessary  to  cut  a  couple  of  stout 
Slicks  to  aid  us  in  our  walk.  Once  the  old 
man  stumbled  and  slid  some  five  or  six  yards, 
but  !  d  hmiself  up  quickly  and  hurried 

on  Wiuiwui.  .  ummeiit.  As  we  ncared  the  foot 
of  the  hill  the  scrub  became  thinner,  and  we 
reached  the  plain  without  further  trouble. 

''  *  '      the  road.     In  my  lime  I  have 

-  ;  I  have  seen  slush  and  mud 
galore,  but  never  in  all  my  wildest  experiences 
had  I  set  eyes  on  such  a  sight.  We  were  stand- 
ing some  fifty  yards  from  the  road,  and  were 
over  our  ankles  in  water,  but  it  was  clean  and 
the  ground,  though  soft,  was  not  sticky.  The 
road,  however -at  the  best  of  times  a  mass  of 
holes,  hills,  and  dales,  with  unbridged  creeks 
and  fascincd  swamps— now  looked  like  a  river  of 
P'  '  in  some  places  thirty  yards  across. 
N  -..-icr  the  bullock  teams  had  failed  to 
iravcl  it  ! 

For  five  minutes  we  stood  in  the  drizzling 
uf-  •••':!«  deep  in  the  cold  water,  gazing  at 
tl.  :ul    "road"    that    for    some    miles    we 

inusi  follow.  Suddenly  I  turned  to  my  com- 
l 

,   Vat,"  said  I,   "don't  you  think  you 
had  l>ctter  ^o  back  ?  " 

"  If  I  , 
die.     !• 


,"  he  answered,  sadly,  "I  shall 


on 


I " 


I 


■T  word  he  stepped  forward,  up 

■ad  of  him,  and  by 

i  lo  j)ick  (jut  some 

'^f  liquid  mud.     He 

III  my  luoisteps  till  the  road,  or 

' '  ■■   road,  was    reached. 

..n.     On  both  sides 

thick  and  solid,  so  that  it 

'■•n  track. 

..    .1  blinding — rain 

picking   each   step 

in  one  of 

'  ■  '      iin  in 

'•  'n**^  ■  4gons 

'uU   thai    the   ram   had    finally 


turned  into  small  ponds.  The  thick  yellow  clay 
ground  stuck  to  our  boots  in  great  clots,  which 
grew  in  size  at  each  step  till  in  desperation  we 
scraped  them  off,  only  to  gather  more  clay  in 
greater  quantities.  Presently  we  were  travelling 
up  a  slope  and  the  road  became  drier,  but  the 
ground  was  more  sticky  and  the  holes  more 
difficult  to  avoid.  Tired  and  worn  out  with  the 
extra  weight  of  mud  and  water,  combined  with 
the  continual  slipping  and  dragging  my  feet  out 
of  the  sticky  ground,  I  felt  I  could  go  on  no 
longer.  I  was  about  done.  My  companion, 
too,  burdened  with  his  heavy  "  swag,"  must 
be  almost  at  his  last  gasp.  I  had  been 
ahead  of  him  and  so  engrossed  with  picking 
my  way  that  for  some  time  I  had  almost 
forgotten  him.  Suddenly  I  heard  a  cry.  To 
my  horror,  I  turned  and  saw  the  Irishman  m 
the  middle  of  the  road  up  to  his  waist  in  a 
hole.  He  had  evidently  been  struggling  to  get 
out  of  it  for  some  time,  as  the  perspiration  was 
[)Ouring  down  his  face.  He  was  hard  and  fast  in 
as  nasty  a  hole  as  one  could  wish  to  find. 

"  I  can't  get  out,"  he  cried,  despairingly  ;  "  it's 
no  good  trying." 

Overloaded  with  his  "swag,"  and  tired  out, 
the  poor  old  man  was  nearly  done. 

Hurrying  to  him  I  found  that  by  picking  my 
way  I  could  get  within  a  yard  of  him,  though 
not  without  standing  knee  deep  in  soft,  sticky 
clay. 

"  Pull  off  your  'swag,'"  I  cried,  "and  push  it 
over  to  me." 

After  a  deal  of  tugging  he  loosened  the  straps, 
and  by  an  effort  that  seemed  to  send  hini  a 
couple  of  inches  deeper  into  the  quagmire  he 
managed  to  pass  the  "swag"  over. 

Catching  hold  of  one  end  of  it  by  the  strap, 
while  he  held  the  other,  I  pulled  with  all  my 
strength.  By  our  united  efforts  he  was  able  to 
extricate  himself.  Cautiously  he  picked  his  way 
to  the  scrub  at  the  roadside,  and  there  sank 
down  exhausted  amongst  the  thick  branches, 
his  legs  in  2ft.  of  water.  The  tugging  to  pull 
the  old  man  out  whilst  I  myself  was  sinking  in 
the  clay  had  been  no  light  strain,  and  I  felt 
anxious  as  I  noticed  a  sharp  i)ain  in  my  left 
leg.^ 

To  forget  my  troubles  I  roundly  abused  the 
old  man  for  not  following  me  closely,  and  for 
trying  to  pick  out  better  places  for  himself. 
He  promised,  with  the  little  breath  he  had  left, 
that  he  would  not  try  ;igain,  and,  it  being  about 
midday,  I  thought  we  might  .safely  eat  our 
lunch  of  dry  bread.  By  twisting  a  small  bush 
of  scrub  I  managed  to  contrive  a  kind  of  seat 
strong  enough  to  bear  us  both  in  moderate 
comfort  till  we  were  rested. 

The  cold  and  wet,  however,  would  not  allow 


"NO     rUCKER!" 


DJ 


HE    PICKED    HIS    WAV   TO   THE   SCRUB   AT   THE    ROADSICE   AMJ    THEKE   SANK    DOWN    EXHAtSTEU. 


US  to  remain  sitting  long.  Ten  minutes  was  all 
the  rest  we  had  before  we  began  to  shiver,  and 
were  glad  to  start  once  more  on  our  miserable 
journey.  The  thought  of  the  hungry  men  in 
camp,  too,  spurred  me  on.  ^\■e  soon  found  it  a 
hopeless  task  trying  to  make  headway  with  our 
boots  on,  and  so  abandoned  them.  I  hung 
mine  on  the  branch  of  a  tree,  thinking  I  would 
come  across  them  on  my  return.  My  com- 
panion decided  to  carry  his. 

Up  to  now  he  had  utterly  refused  to  let  me 
take  turn  about  with  his  "swag,"  but  the  day 
was  dragging  to  a  close  and  we  still  had  a  good 
five  miles  to  go,  so  I  forced  him  to  hand 
over  his  burden,  that  we  might  push  on  faster. 
^^'ithout  our  boots  we  found  travelling  much 
easier,  and,  relieved  of  his  heavy  "  swag, '  the 
old  Irishman  stepped  out  like  a  new  man.  For 
a  full  hour  we  jogged  along,  covering  about  two 
miles,  till  at  last  we  came  to  a  bad  swamp. 
Even  in  ordinary  weather  this  place  was  a  menace 
to  travellers,  but  now  it  seemed  like  certain  death 
to  attempt  to  cross  it.  Making  my  companion 
rest  I  threw  down  his  "  swag  "  and  gathered  all 
the  loose  branches  I  could  find,  piled  them  in  a 
heap,  and  then  cut  other  bundles  of  ti-tree  with 
my  sheath  knife.  With  the  aid  of  some  fla.\  we 
niade  rough  fascines  of  them,  and  threw  them 
into  the  narrowest  part  of  the  swamp.     To  our 


consternation  we  saw  the  bundles  gradually  sink 
below  the  muddy  water,  till  in  five  minutes  no 
sign  of  them  remained  !  If  ever  two  men  were 
in  a  fix  we  two  were  they.  For  an  hour  we 
tried  every  imaginable  way  of  crossing,  but  each 
time  had  to  give  in.  There  was  only  one  thing 
to  do,  and  that  was  to  rush  it  and  trust  to  brute 
force  to  carry  us  across. 

I  felt  pretty  sure  I  could  reach  the  other  side, 
but  had  very  little  faith  in  the  old  man's  re- 
maining strength.  At  last  we  hit  on  a  plan. 
The  "  swag,"  which  up  to  now  I  had  looked 
on  as  a  curse,  became  our  friend.  It  was  the 
old  man's  suggestion,  and  a  good  one  it  proved. 

He  unrolled  his  blanket,  lied  his  clothes  up 
in  a  bundle,  and  threw  them  to  the  far  side  of 
the  swamp.     The  blanket  he  handed  to  me. 

"  Make  a  rush  for  the  other  side,"  he  said — 
he  was  as  desperate  as  a  drowning  man — ''  drag 
the  blanket  after  you,  and  I  will  follow.  When 
I  get  stuck  you  must  pull  me  through." 

It  was  a  desperate  chance,  but  there  seemed 
no  other  way.  I  thought  of  the  starving  men  in 
camp,  the  suffering  invalid  wailing  for  niedicinc, 
and  my  poor  old  companion.  Ves,  we  must  get 
across.  Whichever  way  I  looked  at  llie  position 
I  saw  that  the  best  thing  to  do  was  to  go 
forward  and  trust  to  Providence. 

The  blanket  was  a  fairly  large  one,  and  I  liad 


54 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


no  fear  as  to  the  old  man  being  able  to  reach  it 

if  I  succeeded  in  crossing,  unless  he  got  bogged 

-ct.     Summoning  all  my  strength 

i  ^_  ,.  ^^  (..rate  rush  across  the  swamp,  with 

one  end  of  the  blanket  tied  round   my  wrist. 

Before  I  had  gone  half-way  I  was   up  to   my 

middle.     The  fascines  gave  me  very  slight  sup- 

I>ort,  and  plunging  wildly,  with  a  horrible  fear 

at  my  heart,  I  scrambled  on.     The  cold,  slimy 

'     '  iid  my  legs  and  hips,  impeding 

- ;    my   feet    stuck   and    almost 

'     .^ed  to  move  ;  and  all  the  time  I  experienced 

' '    '■  J.  gradually  sucked  down  into 

.   I...  earth.     I  strained  and  tugged 

at  ri  nking  legs  till  I  felt  I  should  drag 

.1  in  two.     As  one  foot  came  out  the  oilier 

'  -•'    r  in.     Bending  over  as  far  as  I  could 

i  the  slimy  rushes  that  grew  about  me 

in  profusion,  but  they  came  away  in  my  hands, 

and  almost  made  me  give  in.     But  death  was 

It  >'   a  thing   to  court,   especially   a   death    by 

••s  in  that  fearsome  swamp,  so  by  dint  of 

les  I  pushed  on,  seeming  to  make 

ss.      The  encouraging  cheers  of 
kept  me  going  in  spite  of  my 
fv.irs,  and  at  last  I  got  through. 

*  .v  minutes  I  lay  exhausted  on  the 

.  .      ling  as  though  my  heart  would  burst. 

•r  l)efore  had  I  had  such  a  struggle.     When 

i   had  gained    sufficient    breath    to  get  up,    I 

'"'•'■!   '•••e  that  the  old  Irishman  on  the  other 

nearly  as  l)ad  as  myself.     My  struggles 

real  to  him  in  his  nervous  condition 

•'•'  '  ^e  through  them  himself. 

I  '  ild  be  useless  to  try  and  get  him 

across  the  way  I  had  come,  so  we  both  set  to 
work  hi!  ip  and  down  the  swamp  for  a 

fvtt.r  ...^. 

•   ha?f 


than  the  last  lot,  the  old  man  prepared  to  start. 
The  blanket  just  reached  half-way  across,  so 
that  he  had  fully  five  yards  to  travel  without 
any  aid  from  me.  It  was  an  anxious,  trying 
moment.  At  last,  with  a  spurt  that  surprised 
me,  he  boldly  rushed  into  the  soft,  clinging 
slime,  and  two  seconds  after  was  up  to  his  arm- 
pits and  sinking  fast. 

His  sudden  rush  and  plunge,  though  its  very 
force  carried  him  a  long  way,  drove  him  deeper 
into  the  peaty  clay  than  a  more  gentle,  steady 
course  of  wading  would  have  done.  A  dreadful 
look  came  over  his  face  as  he  discovered  that 
he  was  still  a  good  yard  from  the  end  of  the 
blanket.  At  each  reach  and  plunge  he  seemed 
to  sink  deeper  and  deeper,  till  at  last  he  ceased 
to  struggle.  I  stramed  forward,  whipped  the 
blanket  towards  me,  and  plunging  ahead  up  to 
my  knees  I  made  a  desperate  effort  to  reach 
him. 

"Leave  me,  mate,"  he  cried,  "I'm  done! 
Go  back  !     Go  back  ! " 

Then  he  realized  that  the  blanket  end  was 
only  a  few  inches  from  him,  and  with  a  gleam 
of  hope  in  his  eyes  he  strained  forward  and,  to 
my  joy,  succeeded  in  catching  the  end  of  it. 

Leaning  forward  and  letting  out  as  much  as  I 
could  he  managed  to  grip  sufficient  to  hold  on 
to.  By  this  time  I  was  well  stuck  myself,  but 
not  in  any  danger  of  sinking,  as  my  feet  were 
in  fairly  solid  clay.  With  a  tremendous  tug 
and  wrench  I  started  my  companion,  and 
presently,  assisted  by  my  steady  pulling,  he  was 
making  perceptible  headway.  For  fully  a  quarter 
of  an  hour  we  tugged  and  struggled,  and  finally 
both  fell  utterly  exhausted  on  terra  firma. 

Three  times  we  had  almost  given  in,  but  the 


my 


we 

? 


KUl.l.V  A  OUARTEK  OF  AN  IIOUK  WE  TUGGED  AND  STRUGGLKU." 


"NO  tucker:" 


55 


very  awfulness  of  death  in  such  a  hole,  and  the 
ghastly,  suckhig  mud  dragging  at  our  limljs, 
spurred  us  on,  and  at  last  victory  rewarded  our 
efforts. 

Darkness  was  now  coming  on  and  the  greasy 
roads  became  infinitely  more  dangerous  to 
travel.  Tired  and  worn  as  we  both  were  we 
only  managed  to  travel  about  a  mile  during  the 
next  hour.  Then,  far  ahead,  we  saw  the 
welcome  light  of  a  camp-fire,  and  new  energy 
sprang  up  within  us.  The  store,  we  knew, 
could  not  be  more  than  a  mile  away.  Exhausted 
as  we  were,  two  hours  passed  before  we  reached 
the  first  outlying  hut.  The  welcome  shout  of  a 
digger  who  had  been  watching  us  was  the 
pleasantest  sound  we  had  heard  in  our  live: 
He  was  standing  outside  his  w/iare  and  was 
astounded  to  see  any  man  out  on  such  a  night. 
Without  a  word  he  dragged  us  both  into  his  hut, 


hotel.  So  after  an  hour's  rest  we  started  again, 
and  reached  Toka  Toka  at  ten  o'clock,  after 
having  battled  with  the  elements  for  seventeen 
hours. 

The  next  morning  I  left  him  to  make  my  way 
back  to  the  camp  with  a  load  of  much-needed 
food,  tobacco,  and  medicine  for  the  sick  man. 
By  a  very  circuitous  route,  which  an  old  digger 
told  me  of,  I  was  able  to  avoid  the  terrible 
swamp  which  had  so  nearly  proved  our  grave, 
and  reach  a  bush  camp,  two  miles  from 
Okareirei,  by  nightfall. 

At  daybreak  I  started  on  my  travels  again, 
and  reached  the  hill  overlooking  our  camp  just 
as  the  diggers  were  starting  to  work.  Suddenly 
a  loud  "coo-ee,"  which  seemed  to  echo  and  re- 
echo among  the  hills,  told  me  that  one  of  my 
friends  had  seen  me,  and  then,  a  moment  later, 
a  loud  cheer  broke  out  from  the  men.     This  in 


yr:-.-.-!,.. 


"a    loud   CllliKH    BKl^KE  OUT    FKOM    THfc    MEN. 


and  in  a  few  minutes  we  were  sitting  by  his  fire, 
drinking  boiling  hot  tea. 

Though  it  was  fully  another  mile  to  Toka 
Toka,  nothing  would  induce  the  Irishman  to 
accept  the  digger's  hospitality  and  stay  the  night. 
He  had  come  so  far  and  he  meant  to  do  the 
rest,   he   said,   and    sleep   in   dry   sheets  at  the 


itself  was  full  compensation  for  all  my  trials. 
With  the  small  load  of  "  tucker "  I  brought  we 
were  able  to  hang  on  for  a  week  longer,  and  at 
the  end  of  that  time  the  welcome  sight  of  four 
pack-horses,  all  heavily  laden,  plunging  down  the 
hillside  greeted  us  just  as  the  sun  was  setting, 
and  told  us  that  our  isolation  was  at  an  end. 


:fl  7/fOUS/iND  I^LEd  AV/fff5L 
//V  J^ADAGASCAf^ 


I*. 


•nt-.l 


Possessing  no  knowledge  of  the  country  or  its  language, 
this  enterprising  lady  rode  on  her  bicycle  through  the 
length  and  breadth  of  the  great  Island  of  Madagascar. 
The  natives  were  much  interested  in  the  machine,  which 
hisikilety,"  but  they  were  uniformly  polite  and  kind.  Miss  Broad  illustrates  her 
article  with  a  number  of  interesting  photographs. 


I    is  a  mad  thing  to  go  to  Mada- 

;ascnr  at  any  time,"  said  one  of 

friends   in    Durban,    when    I 

ircd  my  int'-ntion  r)f  inning  to 

:)e    island  


^^h   It, 


.,  un  your 

•"     One 

tieman 


.ir 


I  had  got  plenty 
as   It   would 

'  (  » 

.erthe- 

inuch 

I         it,  and 

lie  journey  for 

>iir  hours  did 
and  then 

■My 


d  the 


i% 


1  « .1 


CV    Md.Ali,    AS    M(K    AI'I'KAKI'li 
■■    IIKK    JUUHNEV. 

/■r^m  a  fhate.  hy  /.   //.   Couch,  Liskenrd. 


marked  out  by  stakes  driven  in  the  mud,  and 
was  evidently  very  shallow,  for  we  frequently 
ran  aground,  and  at  noon  we  were  all  landed  at 
an  open  shelter-house,  for  out  little  steamer  had 

bumped  a  hole  in  hei 
side  and  had  to  go  back 
for  repairs. 

There  were  half-a- 
dozen  Frenchmen,  a 
crowd  of  lively,  talkative 
natives,  and  myself  at  the 
rest  -  house.  My  alarm 
was  considerable  when  1 
was  told  that  we  must 
spend  the  night  there. 
However,  the  Europeans 
were  goodness  itself  to 
me,  and  courteously 
asked  me  to  join  them 
at  dinner.  Afterwards 
beds  were  improvised 
from  boxes  and  bales, 
and  .somebody  gave  me 
a  beautiful  ruL^  on  which 
I  slept  very  comfortably, 
and  hardly  felt  I  deserved 
the  pitying  words  of  one 
of  the  party,  who  spoke 
of  me  as  "  la  pattvre 
enfant.''^ 

Another  day's  steam- 
ing landed  us  at  Mahat 
sara,  a  prettily  -  situated 
village  on    the   banks   of 


A    THOUSAND    MILES    .WVIII.l.l,    IN    MADACASCAR. 


0/ 


the  river.  The  place  boasts  a  small  restaurant, 
where  I  met  a  few  French  ofticials  and  traders. 
I  was  possessed  with  the  idea  that  some  of  these 
gentlemen  must  be  married,  and  that  there 
must  surely  be  some  other  I'^uropean  women 
somewhere  about.  Accordingly  I  walked  about 
looking  at  all  the  nicer  houses,  in  hopes  of 
finding  them.  I'ut  I  was  disappointed.  I  was 
the  only  white  woman  between  there  and  the 
capital,  and  I  realized  for  the  first  time  the  truth 
of  the  statement  that  the  Frenchman  does  not 
make  his  home  in  the  colonies. 

One  of  my  fellow-passengers  on  the  boat  had 
hurt  his  hand,  and  I  produced  some  vaseline 
and  bound  it  up  for  him.  Then,  in  my 
ignorance  of  the  roads  and  conditions  of 
travel,  this  man  came  to  my  help.  He  listened 
sympathetically  to  my  schemes,  and  pointed 
out  to  me  a  rather  insignificant-looking  French- 


my  friend  of  the  steamboat  that  I  was  going  to 
see  the  business  through. 

Monsieur  very  kindly  engaged  a  long,  limp, 
and  rather  stupid-looking  Malagasy  to  carry  my 
lighter  baggage  and  be  my  servant  and  guide, 
and  my  eager  im()atieiu:e  on  the  morning  of  our 
start  was  only  eciualled  by  my  porter's  stolid 
indifference.  I'irst  he  had  no  pole,  then  in- 
sufficient cord,  then  he  squatted  down  and 
leisurely  balanced  and  tied  and  untied  his 
load,  whilst  I  literally  boiled  with  impatience. 
Certainly  hurry  and  temper  are  vices  of  civiliza- 
tion that  these  hap[jy  natives  know  nothing 
about. 

But  at  last  I  was  able  to  mount  and  set  off,  I 
wearing  the  tied-down  sun-hat  that  proved  such 
a  good  friend,  and  early  evening  brought  us  to 
a  large  village  which  was  to  be  our  first  resting- 
place.       We    arranged    that    I    should    ride    on 


From  a 


lU-'.lolMI^AKAKA,     IHK    HK>T    VILI.AGI-:    AT    WHICH    MISS    bRUAl)    IIALTliD    F.>K    THL    M.IMr. 


man  who  had  done  the  journey  to  the  capital 
on  his  cycle. 

My  courage  had  been  rather  oozing  away,  for 
I  had  been  only  a  few  days  in  the  island  and 
knew  not  a  word  of  Malagasy.  iUit  if  this  little 
man  could  do  it,  I  decided,  so  could  I. 

My  dear  old  "Sunbeam,"  which  had  shared 
my  travels  in  England,  I-'rance,  Italy,  and 
South  Africa,  was  all  ready,  and  I  much 
preferred  it  should  take  me  on  my  journey 
rather  than  that  we  should  both  be  igno- 
miniously  carted  along  on  men's  shoulders  in 
the    usual    fashion   of  the   country.     So   I   told 

Vol.  X.-8. 


ahead  and  wait  at  some  pretty  point  for  my 
boy,  who  turned  out  a  magnificent  walker.  He 
pegged  away  at  a  steady  swing,  which  I  should 
not  like  to  have  to  keep  up  with,  and  easily  ditl 
his  thirty-five  miles  a  day  !  There  are  no  hotels 
in  this  land,  but  in  all  the  larger  villages  there  is 
a  travellers'  rest,  or  g'tte  Setat,  where  you  get 
free  lodging.  These  neat  little  toy  liouses  in 
the  coast  villages  are  raised  from  the  ground 
on  stakes  some  3ft.  or  4ft.  high,  and  are  built 
entirely  from  bamboo  and  leaves  from  the 
traveller's  tree— roof,  floor,  sides,  doors,  and 
window   shutters  complete.     The  windows  are 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


without  glass,  and  the  furnishings  consist  of  a 
Thlir.  or  form,  and  table  ^^'>Vh  l.ttnr  often 
served  me  for  a  bed. 

It  is  hardly  possible  to  leel  lonely  m  these 
huts,  for  you  can  hear  everything  that  goes  on 
i"  '5  -  next  house  on  either  side  as  though  it 
,1  in  your  own  room.  Long  after  I 
wanted  to  be  sleeping  the  merry  chatter  and 
!  ^  —  kept  me  awake,  and  if  they  sneezed  or 
I  knew  all  about  it.  It  does  not  give 
a  stranger  a  great  feeling  of  security,  either,  to 
merely  close  a  lockless  door  of  plaited  reeds 
y,K.  .1  r.  tiring  for  the  night. 


always  kept  some  of  the  shell  to  show  people, 
until  I  was  clever  enough  to  say  "atody,"  which 
stands  for  egg  in  Malagasy. 

The  curious  little  wayside  shops  I  i)assed 
were  often  supplied  with  little  hunks  of  beef 
and  perhaps  half  a  pig,  as  well  as  open  baskets 
of  rice,  monkey-nuts,  and  the  like,  and  their 
keejjers  forgot  their  anxiety  to  do  business  in 
their  astonishment  at  beholding  me. 

My  appearance  always  roused  great  interest. 
Boys  would  call  to  each  other  and  run  across 
country  to  look  at  the  strange  white  lady  on  the 
wonderful   machine;  the   men   stood  in  groups 


■  r   BV   IMK   WA%-.IH1  rUlinilKS    K()l«;or    TIIKIR    ANXIEIV   to    do    business    in     rHIilU    ASrONISHMKNT 

Al    litlUM.iii.M,    llIK   Willi  E    LAUV   ON    THli   SIKANGE   MACHINE.  \l'hotO. 


if. 


little  cook-shed  near  by 

your  servant  lights  a  fire 

t  on  their  ends  and  cooks 

.1  ask,  "Whatever  did 

a   question    that 

'11    at    this   village. 

m's  shop,  where  I 

at  ruinous  |)rice.s, 

M^.'  I  noticed  hens 

Thnt    made 

:i     UIl'K.I  ilaiul  ? 

and     gestures 

d  out  to  them 

'  »-•   required 

'       At  last, 

■  lu'd  to 

II  door.     After  that  1 


watching  eagerly  as  long  as  ever  I  remained  in 
sight  ;  whilst  the  women  first  dragged  their 
startled  children  up  on  to  the  banks  at  the 
roadside  and  then  smiled  down  at  me  from  a 
safe  distance. 

1  was  utterly  amazed  to  find  so  fine  a  road  in 
a  country  which,  before  the  French  occupation, 
possessed  nothing  but  tortuous  native  paths. 
This  highway  was  wide  and  splendidly  made, 
running  across  the  hills  and  round  the  valleys. 
The  country  is  a  succession  of  hills,  but  the 
gradients  are  .so  well  managed  that  most  of 
them  can  be  easily  ridden. 

The  life  on  these  roads  was  a  constant  study. 
I  was  rarely  alone.  In  front  and  behind  the 
long  strings  of  bearers  marked  the  way  ;  often  a 
score  or  two  were  in  siiiht  at  one  time.  Horses 
and  wheeled  vehicles  are  a  rarity  in  the  country, 


A    THOUSAND    Mll.KS    A\\llLi:i.    1\    MADAGASCAR. 


59 


from  a\ 


LONt;    STRINGS   OF    IlEARF.HS    MAKKi:!)   THE    WAV. 


[I'lioto. 


but  I  was  assured   that   there   ar 
men   engaged    in    carryini;    good 
coast  and  the  capital.     Their 
burdens,     slung    on     bamboo 
poles,     may    weigh    anything 
under   8olb.,  and  con- 
sist of  the  most  miscel- 
laneous goods.     These 
bearers  are  very  cheer, 
ful    and   well-behaved, 
and     polite     greetings 
are    the    order    of    the 
day. 

I  met  with  rain  the 
first     few     afternoons, 
and  while  sleeping  one 
night  at  a  village  where 
there  was  a  dilapidated 
rest-house  I  was  roused 
in    the    night    by   the 
rain  falling  through  the 
roof  on    to    my    nose. 
When  I  had  remedied 
this  trouble  still  worse 
befell  —  I     heard    the 
ominous  scratching  of 
a  rat,   and  presently  a 
great    brute    scam- 
pered  right   across 
me!       Didn't      I 
scream  !  |k. 

The  pounding  ol      ^ 
the   rice    makes    a       ^ 
pleasant    sound    in 
the  villages   of  an 


evenmg. 


A  group 


•/  om  III 


e   over   20,000         of   women  at  a  street  corner  will  be  seen  busy 
s   between   the         at  work  lifting  the  pole  into  tl>e  air  and  bring. 

ing  it  down  upon  the 
grain  with  a  peculiar 
twist.  'I'hcy  would  let 
me  try  my  hand  but 
it  always  beat  me. 

I  found  it  a  positive 
delight  to  stop  at  some 
open,  commanding 
spot  and  drink  in  the 
wide,  green,  diversified 
landscape.  Heights 
rose  beyond  heights, 
with  here  and  there  a 
prettily -placed  village, 
and  always  the  dash 
and  sparkle  of  Mada- 
gascar's clear  rivers  to 
make  music  in  the 
valleys.  The  beauty 
of  the  Madagascar 
forest,  through  which 
I  was  now  riiling,  is 
indescribable.  It  is  a 
veritable  paradise  of 
vegetation. 

After  leaving  the 
forest  I  came  to  a 
splendid  stretch  of 
j.i.ul  road,  and  in  a 
iD'iinent  of  weakness 
was  tempted  to  push 
aheatl,  leaving  my  boy 
behind    to     follow    at 

WE    LSLAL   fcVlMNU   OCCLIATION    ol     TDK  i    •         I      j,.,,^,,      en     thnt    fOf 

HovA  WOMEN.  W'^to.        '1'^  leisure,  so  mai  lor 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


A   sNAP-SHor   OF    IHE    KOAU   THKOUOH   THE    luUtsl 


ihe  last  two  days  of  the  journey  I  was  quite 
unnttciidcd. 

At  many  of  the  villages  I  passed  through 
I  saw  most  curious  things.  At  one  place  the 
natives  were  busily  engaged  in  building  a 
tomb. 

These  fatuily  tombs,  most  substantially  built, 

arc   often   seen   quite   near   the    houses.     The 

H<  '•  a  s;iying,  "Make  the  tomb  strong, 

;..^  house  is  poor,  for  we  shall  occupy  it 

Th.ir 

burial 


th 


are  built  of  large 
squares  of  sun-dried 
earth. 

Tananarive,  at  an 
altitude  of  over 
4,oooft.,  queens  it 
grandly  over  the 
surrounding  country 
on  its  imposing  hill, 
hut  I  felt  a  most  dis- 
reputable tramp  as 
on  a  Saturday  after- 
n  o  o  n  I  wearily 
climbed  the  steep 
streets  until  I  was 
attracted  by  the  fair 
face  and  flaxen  hair 
of  a  wee  girlie  seen 
over  the  garden  wall 
of  a  house,  and 
made  my  first  call 
at  a  missionary's 
domicile. 

How  utterly  delight- 
ful it  was  to  be  in  a 
comfortable  room  again !  And  the  English  of  the 
lady  of  the  house  was  like  the  music  of  home 
to  the  ears  of  an  exile.  You  want  to  have  been 
on  the  road  with  your  bicycle  for  a  fortnight, 
and  to  have  lost  all  your  little  comforts  for  a 
few  days,  to  know  what  it  means  to  have  these 
happy  advantages  again.  I  simply  revelled  in 
it.  To  wash  and  brush  oneself  and  then  to 
lie  on  a  sofa  and  rest  and  have  breakfast  in 
bed    next    morning,    until     the    last    traces    of 


II.DINf;  A  TOMD— TIIKV  llELIKVK  IN  MAKINCi 
--  STKONGEK  THAN  THEIR  HOUSES,  SAVING, 
WE  SHAI.I.  OCCUIV   THSM    LONCJER,"     [Photo. 


A    •111(.)USAN1)    MILLS    AWHEEL    L\     .\L\1»A(;ASCAR. 


01 


62  THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE 

weariness  faded  away,  was   like  a  foretaste  of 


my  surprise  that  my  arrival  was 

red  a    matter  of  some    importance.     I 

first  lady  who  had  accomplished  the 

J  ,_ ,  on  a  bicycle,  and  being  quite  a  stranger 

ro   thf   country,   and    with    no   knowledge   of 
y,    it    was   considered    quite    a   plucky 
I.  iii^  lur  me  to  have  come  through  alone. 

.\iany  members  of  the  various  missions  came 
to  see   me,   and   many  questions   were   asked 
-  offered. 

X  .    .  Ji  on  the  Sunday  afternoon, 

and  was  much  struck   with  the  universality  of 

the  white  lamba,  the  national  garment  of  the 

?'-^'        'I '■  ■   effect   is    much   as  though   the 

.lion  wore  surplices.     Striped  and 

•--coloured 

some-  "F 

1,    but 

the    brightest 

curiously 

are  kept 

-.  shrouds. 

Ill    the   com- 

• r  my  kind 

I     cycled 
round   the    town, 

'     "y 

,  .:-:cst, 
among  them 
'  great 
;.<-ie  the 
used  to 
•   for  / 


V' 


3k '  1^ 


1     '  -      1-      i   •   .    1...     1..     ^:.l.    Ijii..i    CAI'ITAI. — THE 

WuMt.N    M\V    HE  SBEN   SITIING  OU  ISIUE  THEIR    DOOKS    HAVING  THEIK 
''*'"  "I  IIAIK    F1.AI  I  ED. 


"I'r 


^  il I  111. 


^.tatc  under 


t  washing-day  in  Tanana- 

■  ■  *'      rivLT  to  get  their 

^cr vices  next  day. 

sincj  day  as  well, 

'   lliis  kind  office  for 

''■•"!  sitting  outside 

ISO,  and  then 

N    which    are 

u  ;irrangc(l  from 

I   go  bareheaded, 

ir,  and  the  good  carriage 

•ill  i)cople  who  delight  in 

in  the  ncigh- 

"ff  ori  another 

■    'T,  the 

!    after 

'■  river,  I  had  my  first 


experience  of  boating  in  a  "dug-out."  How  1 
did  tremble  for  the  machine  and  myself!  There 
was  no  seat,  and,  what  with  the  muddy  water  in 
the  bottom  of  the  boat  and  its  painfully  obvious 
crankiness,  I  felt  far  from  comfortable.  The 
boatman  pushed  us  across  by  driving  a  long 
pole  into  the  bottom,  and  right  glad  was  I  to 
get  ashore. 

Much  of  the  road  on  this  journey  was  a 
trial  to  one's  nerves,  being  crossed  at  times 
by  deep,  open  gutterways  carrying  the  water 
down  from  the  hill.s.  At  other  [)arts  it  was 
so  steep  and  rocky  that  pushing  and  holding 
back  were  both  impossible,  and  the  cycle  had  to 
be  carried.  Indeed,  nothing  but  an  obstinate 
determination  to  get  through  took  me  onwards. 
At    these   trying    times   the   noontide  rest  at 

the  weird  little 
roadside  restau- 
\  rants  was  very 
acceptable.  One 
old  man  in  charge 
of  one  establish- 
ment had  such  a 
dear,  benevolent 
face  that  I  cjuite 
took  to  him,  and 
it  was  interesting 
to  see  the  ever- 
present  bearers 
drop  their  bur- 
dens and  sit 
about  to  eat  their 
lunch.  Some- 
times \v  hen  I 
cleaned  and  oiled 
the  "  bisikilety  " 
an  eager  group 
woukl  gallicr 
round  to  watch  me,  discu.ssing  the  curious 
thing  with  great  animation.  They  were  vastly 
honoured  if  they  were  allowed  to  hold  the 
duster  or  steady  the  machine. 

I  stopped  one  night  at  a  tiny  village,  where 
every  single  inhabitant  turned  out  to  inspect 
me.  Crowds  filled  the  streets,  and  clusters  of 
heads  at  each  window  watched  every  movement 
I  made.  Happily,  however,  it  is  considered 
impolite  with  the  Malagasy  to  look  on  when. one 
is  eating,  so  my  audience  vanished  directly  the 
food  appeared.  Alas  !  on  this  occasion  we  had 
literally  to  sleep  with  the  pigs  -a  big  sow  and 
four  little  grunters  were  only  a  passage-way 
removed,  and  many  a  time  I  wished  them  far 
away  before  they  Hnally  settled  down  to  sleep. 

If  there  were  not  the  usual  travellers'  rest  in 
the  village  where  I  wished  to  stop  the  best 
Malagasy  family  in  the  place  usually  gave  up 
their  room  for  my  use.     If  I  did  not  like  the 


/ 


[Photo. 


A    THOUSAND    MILES    AWHKEL    IN*    MAUAGASCAR. 


63 


appearance  of  one  house  the  headman  of  the 
village  trotted  round  with  me  to  another,  and 
the  smiling  and  affable  family  took  it  as  a 
com[)liment  if  their  abode  satisfied  me,  and  left 
me  in  possession. 

Very  often  I  had  to  make  an  early  start  with- 
out even  thanking  them.  All  that  they  expected 
to  receive,  however,  for  tlK'ir  kind  hospitality 
was  a  penny  for  the  bundle  of  grass  that  did  my 
cooking,  and  perhaps  a  trille  for  eggs  or  potatoes! 

We  now  came  to  another  river,  where  I  was 
happy  in  finding  a  native  boat  for  crossing,  but 
six  times  on  this  journey  I  had  to  cross  rivers 
without  any  bridge  or  boat.  Three  times  my 
handy-man  carried  me  over.  Once  I  got 
frightened  on  seeing  the  rocky  bottom,  nearly 
upsetting  us  both,  and  got  a  laughing  remon- 
strance from  him  on  the  other  side.  At  another 
place  a  sick  man  who  was  being  carried  along 
offered  to  get  out  of  his  swing  seat  for  my 
benefit. 

At  last  I  reached  Fianarantsoa,  another  city 


eager  interest  of  the  natives,  the  smiling  escorts 
thronging  the  villages,  and  tlie  throngs  around 
one's  door  at  night.  However  early  I  started 
in  the  morning  some  boys  would  be  there  to 
run  races  with  "  the  horse  that  feeds  upon 
wind,"  as  they  called  my  "Sunbeam." 

On  my  way  to  Fianarantsoa  I  had  found 
the  men  refuse  tp  put  a  hand  to  the  machine 
when  I  gave  them  an  opportunity  to  pusli  it  up- 
hill, and  I  verily  believe  they  were  afraid  of  it ; 
but  now  they  were  most  eager  for  the  honour, 
and  three  or  four  lads  laughingly  contested  for 
first  place,  one  taking  each  side  of  the  handle- 
bar and  another  the  saddle. 

Iwo  breakdowns  marked  my  return  journey. 
One  night  the  pole  of  my  stretcher  smashed, 
letting  me  down  in  the  middle,  much  to  the 
amusement  of  my  man.  \V'orse  still,  however, 
an  unprepared-for  puncture  came  in  my  tight 
little  wheel  which  had  behaved  so  well,  making 
me  do  the  last  two  days  humbly  on  foot. 

Happily,  I  got  through  th.e  whole  of  my  long 


THIS    SICK    MAN    Ol  FEKED    1 U    VAC.M  t    HIS    LITTEK    IN    OUDliU    THAT    MISS   UKOAD    MIGHT    DE   CAKRIEO   ACROSS   A    RIVER. 

Front  a  I'hoto. 


on  a  hill,  where  I  was  received  with  the  greatest 
kindness  by  the  missionaries  and  natives  alike  ; 
a  native  pastor  telling  me  that  all  their  men 
would  have  to  bow  down  to  me,  as  I  had  done 
what  none  of  them  could. 

My  return  journey  was   marked   by  the  usual 


runs  and  tramps  without  fever,  much  to  the 
astonishment  of  the  European  residents,  and  I 
have  nothing  but  rose-coloured  re<ollections  of 
everybody's  kindness  ami  the  wonderful  interest 
and    variety    of    my    thousand    miles'    tour    in 


Madagascar. 


By  F.  I.  McNeile. 


Some    horses   had   mysteriously   disappeared   from   the   author's   station    in   Queensland,   and    the 

aborigmea  were  suspected  of  the   theft.      They   obstinately  refused  to  return  the  horses,  however, 

unitl   at    last    the  author   managed  to  work   upon   their  fears  by  means  of  an  eclipse  of  the  moon, 

when  the  missing  animals  were  promptly  discovered  in  a  stock-yard. 


Q' 


ti.. 


I  w 


N'KRCIV  and  love  of  work  are  not 
characteristics  of  the  aboriginal  in 
any  part  of  Australia,  but  it  would 
bo  difficult  to  find  anywhere  a  lazier 
rollcction  than  my  dusky  neigh- 
"  !lah  Station,  away  back  on 
a   River,   in    the   far  West  of 


111}  December  afternoon   I  sat  on 

!  veranda  smoking,  and  mentally 

tore  another  summer  came  round 

uuid  turn  my  back  ui)on  the  ^Vest  for  ever. 

'•    ''     ■■    v  u[)on  which  I  gazed  was  not 

rful  thoughts,  for  drought  and 

I    supreme.     On    either  side 

,  .i.s    far   as  my  tired  eyes   could 

i    an    .I'iil    'il:iin,    its   monotony 

by    o  I     sparse     clumps 

!  a  few  lonely  bloodwood 

'•Ule    shelter    from     the 

il    down    fiercely    on 

In    front    was    the    same 

•a  double  line  of 

he    ch.iiuiel    where 

!  flowed,  now  a  dry 

•■  pools  of  dirty 


Mitchell  grass  had  waved 


over  the  plain  and  large  mobs  of  fat  cattle  had 
wended  their  way  yearly  to  the  southern  sales, 
and  in  those  days  Wymullah  had  a  well-paid 
manager  and  many  hands.  Tempted  by  glow- 
ing tales  of  easily-made  fortunes,  I  had  given 
up  a  fair  billet  in  England,  and  had  gone  there 
as  a  young  "jackaroo"  to  gather  my  Colonial 
experience.  Experience  I  had  gained,  'tis  true, 
but  as  yet  none  of  the  fortunes  had  come  my 
way.  The  great  drought  of  i8 —  was  now  at 
its  worst,  most  of  the  stock  were  dead,  and 
strict  economy  was  being  practised.  I  combined 
the  duties  of  manager,  overseer,  stockman,  and 
book-keeper,  my  sole  white  companion  and 
assistant  being  a  Scotsman  named  McPhail. 
Once  a  month  one  of  us  rode  a  hundred  miles 
to  Merriwoo,  the  nearest  township,  where  we  got 
our  mail.  The  last  time  McPhail  had  been 
there  was  some  two  months  ago,  when  he  had 
drunk  not  wisely  but  too  well  of  a  certain  cele- 
brated ])()lalion  which  a  local  publican  sold  as 
rum.  Its  chief  ingredients  were  apparently 
kerosene  and  tobacco,  and  a  touch  of  sunstroke 
following  his  indulgence  in  this  tasty  mixture 
had  bowled  McPhail  over  completely,  and 
when  the  time  came  for  me  to  go  for  the  mail 
he  lay  tossing  on  his  bunk  in  a  high  fever,  so 
that  I  could  not  leave  him.  Now,  however, 
he  was  recovering,  Christmas  was  approaching, 
and  a  keen  desire  for  news  from  the  outer  world 


now     rHi:     HORSES    WERE    FOUND. 


65 


took  possession  of  me.  1  had  made  up  my 
mind  to  start  for  Merriwoo  a  week  ago,  but, 
greatly  to  my  annoyance,  the  few  horses  that 
remained  on  WymuUah  Station  had  mysteriously 
disappeared.  I  had  last  seen  them  in  a  low- 
lying  {)addock  about  a  mile  from  the  house,  and 
had  pointed  out  the  two  that  were  best  able  to 
travel  to  Jimmy  Mack,  the  chief  of  the  blacks, 
telling  him  to  bring  them  to  the  house  at  dawn 
ne.xt  morning,  when  I  intended  starting  for 
Merriwoo.  Hut  when  morning  came  all  the 
steeds  had  vanished  and  no  trace  of  them  could 
be  found  !  It  was  impossible  that  they  could 
have  strayed  from  the  paddock,  which  was  wire- 
fenced  and  iron-gated,  and  my  suspicions  at 
once  fell  on  the  blacks,  who  refused  point-blank 
to  track  the  missing  animals.  The  Australian 
aboriginal  is  an  ex- 
pert  m  the  art  of 
tracking,  and  is  al- 
most invariably  em- 
ployed by  the  police 
in  the  pursuit  of 
criminals  who  have 
escaped  into  the 
bush.  For  a  bush- 
man  I  am  a  poor 
tracker,  so,  after 
spending  hours  of 
vain  searching  —  al- 
ways losing  the 
tracks  and  my  temper 
— a  few  miles  from 
home,  I  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  it 
was  useless  for  me 
to  try  to  pick  up  the 
trail  again  in  the 
present  hard,  dry 
condition  of  the 
ground.  McPhail 
was  not  well  enough 
to  venture  out  in 
the  scorching  sun 
remained    obdurate. 


I) out  ii] 


1  III:    AL  1  IIOK,    .Ml. 


to  help  me ;  the  blacks 
and  at  the  same  time 
became  exorbitant  in  their  demands  for  lum 
and  tobacco,  while  their  chief  dropped  hints 
that,  if  these  luxuries  were  forthcoming,  the 
horses  might  return  as  mysteriously  as  they 
had  vanished.  Much  as  I  craved  for  the 
mail,  I  had  no  desire  to  walk  the  hundred 
miles  to  Merriwoo,  but  I  had  no  intention  of 
giving  in  to  the  blacks,  who  for  the  presc-nt  had 
undoubtedly  the  whip-hand  of  me. 

As  I  lay  back  in  my  veranda  chair  and 
wearily  pondered  over  ways  and  means  of 
bringing  them  to  their  senses,  a  strong,  un- 
pleasant odour,  peculiar  to  the  aboriginal,  was 
wafted  to  me  by  a  faint   breeze,  and  I  became 

Vol.  X.-9. 


aware  of  the  vicinity  of  J  immy  Mack,  the  "  boss  " 
black  of  the  camp.  Tins  old  scoundrel  had 
been  a  noted  character  in  the  early  days,  when 
the  blacks  outnumbered  the  whiles  in  Western 
Queensland.  Tiien  he  had  been  a  king  amongst 
his  people,  a  despotic  monarch,  who  summarily 
put  to  death  any  subject  unfortunate  enough  to 
offend  his  sable  majesty,  and  for  this  reason  he 
had  been  outlawed  by  the  whites  for  many 
years.  Now,  however,  he  had  lived  down  his 
sinister  reputation  and  dwelt  in  peace  at 
Wymullah,  surrounded  by  his  numerous  rela- 
tives. 

He  strolled  leisurely  towards  me,  smoking  an 
evil-smelling  clay  pipe.  He  pre.sented  a  re- 
markable appearance.  His  bulky  form  was 
enveloped  in  a  heavy  frieze  ulster,  and  a  battered 

tail  hat  was  perched 
jauntily  on  his  head  ; 
the  fact  that  both 
articles  were  dis- 
carded remnants  of 
my  former  civilized 
condition  roused  my 
ire.  Slouching  be- 
hind Jimmy  was  his 
"gin,"  Selina,  whose 
sole  raiment,  the 
cover  of  an  old  um- 
brella, presented  a 
striking  contrast  to 
the  costume  of  her 
lord  and  master,  but 
was  far  more  suitable 
to  the  day,  as  the 
thermometer  regis- 
tered somewhere 
about  i2odeg.  in  the 
shade.  As  they 
neared  the  house 
Selina  retired 
modestly  behind  a 
water  -  tank — empty, 
alas! — and  Jimmy  approached  me,  followed  by 
his  youngest  pickaninny,  Canary,  and  numerous 
dogs  of  the  purest  mongrel  breed. 

"  'Alloa,  boss,"  he  observed,  affably,  seating 
himself  on  the  veranda  ledge  in  close  proximity 
to  my  chair,  an  arrangement  which  gave  me  the 
full  benefit  of  the  odours  exhaled  from  his  pipe. 
"  Hot  day,  boss,"  he  continued. 

"  Then  why  the  dickens  don't  you  take  off 
that  rig  ? "  I  growled,  pointing  to  the  ulster, 
which  to  me  was  reminiscent  of  England  and 
wet  weather,  both  far  off  dreams  in  this  drought- 
stricken  land  of  the  "  Never-Nevcr." 

"  Can't,  boss ;  got  no  trousers !  You  no 
give  me  trousers,  must  wear  this  feller," 
answered    the    black,     with    an    expression    of 


66 


THE    WIDE    WORLD     MAGAZliNE. 


virtuous  resignation  on  his  villain- 
ous old  face. 

"  Plenty  trouser,  shirt,  coat, 
eberyting,  in  store,"  he  next  in- 
formed me,  but  I  ignored  the 
hint  and  inquired  why  Selina, 
who  acted  as  our  handmaiden, 
had  not  been  near  the  house  for 
a  week. 

"  No  proper  clothes,"  said  her 
better  half,  sadly.  "She's  too 
'shamed." 

A  fleeting  glimpse  of  Selina's 
sable  person  peering  from  behind 
the  tank  more  or  less  verified  this 
statement. 

*'  But  the  clothes  she  had  last 
week  and  before  that  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Must  have  gone  and  got  lost," 
hr  '.    readily.      "Plenty 

dr.. J— and 'bacca,  boss  ! 

Me  want  'bacca ! " 

"  'Hacca,  you  old  scoundrel  I  " 
I  shouted,  angrily.  "  Not  another 
plug  will  you  or  any  of  your 
thieving  crowd  get  until  those 
horses  are  found  !  " 

Jimmy  smiled  serenely,  and 
suggested  that  very  likely  the 
horses  would  never  be  found 
under  those  conditions. 

*'  Must  gone  and  got  lost — 
.  die  along  of  bush,"  he 
.uiipuinced,  cheerfully.  Then,  with 
the  air  of  a  general  conducting 
|)cace  negotiations,  he  added, 
"  '■   '  1    give   plenty    rum, 

pi  -      ,  plenty  new  clothes, 

p'r'afw  horse  come  back." 

1    get   neither   rum   nor 
'1  I'll  have  you  all  put  in  lock-up,"  I 
.  with  a  wild  disregard  of  possibilities. 
1  send  Selina  here  to  wash  clothes  and 


'I. 


Ir 


t  clothes  ;    me   no  'low   her  come 
<1  the  outraged  husband. 

•lel  shirt   of    .M(  Phail's,   which 

■    the    rail,     1    Hung    it    in    the 

tank,  whence  came  approving 

Selina   emerged    from 

mcnt,  her  enormous 

she  demanded. 

•'•d  J  in) my. 
-  ;ic  from  a  chorus  of 
If,   who  had    gradually 


"   BACCA,    boss!      iME   WANT     PACCA  '   ' 

"  If  ye  have  ony  notion  of  gettin'  to  Merri- 
woo,"  drawled  McPliaiTs  voice  from  within, 
"  ye'd  best  give  them  the  rum  and  be  done,  and 
I'd  not  mind  a  wee  drap  myself." 

"  I'll  see  them  hani^cd  first,"  I  roared,  pounc- 
ing on  the  luckless  Canary,  who  was  endeavouring 
to  scrub  the  dusty  veranda,  rubbing  it  with  a 
crumpled  newspaper.  The  paper  was  two 
moiiihs  old,  'tis  true,  but  it  contained  the  last 
news  from  civilization.  As  I  rescued  what  was 
left  of  it  from  Canary's  small,  moist  hand,  a 
heading  caught  my  eye  :  "  Eclipse  of  the 
Moon  on  December  20th."  As  I  gazed 
at  it  a  brilliant  idea  struck  me,  for  to-day 
was  the  20th  December.  I  made  certain  of 
the  correctness  of  the  date  by  glancing  at  an 
almanac  which  hung  inside  the  open  door. 
Then  I  went  outside  and  addressed  Jimmy 
Mack. 


HOW      IHL    HORSES    WKKL    FOUiND. 


67 


"Big  feller  moon  last  night,  eh,  Jimmy?" 
I  remarked. 

•'  Ya-as,"  admitted  that  worthy,  laconically. 

"Big  feller  moon  come  again  to-night,"  I 
suggested,  and,  as  no  one  argued  the  point,  I 
continued  :  "See  here,  Jimmy,  you  know  where 
horses  are.  You  bring  them  back  to-day  and  I 
say  nothing.  You  no  bring  them  back,  then 
I  put  out  big  feller  moon  to-night  and  make  all 
dark.  You  no  bring  horses  after  that,  then  I 
put  out  sun  to-morrow— make  everything  dark 
always  !  " 

An  incredulous  smile  greeted  this  astounding 
statement. 

"P'raps!"  was  Jimmy's  contemptuous  com- 
ment as  he  walked  away,  followed  by  his  family, 
friends,  and  the  crowd  of  dogs.  The  most 
mangy  of  the  latter 
had  evidently  been 
foraging  in  my  kitchen, 
and  bore  in  its  mouth 
a  large  piece  of  beef 
which  had  been  des- 
tined for  our  lunch. 
Having  no  desire  to 
recover  it  from  its  pre- 
sent owner,  however,  I 
contented  myself  with 
hurling  stones  at  the 
offender,  and  shouting 
after  the  retreating 
party,  "You  see  I  make 
all  dark  to-night." 

My  threats  had  ap- 
parently no  effect,  for 
I  saw  no  more  of  the 
blacks  that  day,  nor 
was  there  any  sign  of 
my  missing  horses. 
When  the  evening 
came  I  went  to  the 
veranda  and  watched 
the  sky  carefully  and 
anxiously.  The  moon 
rose  bright  and  full, 
and  all  was  clear  as- 
day.  The  blacks'  camp 
stood  out  plainly,  and 
I  could  see  its  inmates 
squatting  round  their 
camp  fire.  I  continued 
studying  the  heavens 
until  my  observations 
satisfied  me  that  the 
astronomer's  forecast 
was  correct,  and  then 
I    proceeded     to    the 

camp,  carrying  a  boot-     ^g^^^^^^^^^j^^,,;;^ 
jack  in  each  hand.     I  "i  poi.med  heave.nwards 


explained  my  terms  once  more  to  the  assembled 
natives,  and  received  the  unanimous  reply  that 
rum  and  tobacco  were  the  two  factors  essential 
to  the  return  of  the  horses. 

I  have  never  been  a  singer  or  even  musically 
inclined,  but  I  now  began  to  slowly  decline  Latin 
verbs  to  a  tune  of  my  own  composition,  the 
result  being  a  sort  of  mystic  chant.  At  the  same 
time  I  pointed  heavenwards  with  the  boot-jacks 
and  waved  them  wildly  in  the  air.  My  audience 
evidently  thought  that  I  was  performing  a  ror- 
roboree  for  their  special  amusement,  and 
greeted  my  efforts  with  shouts  of  laughter.  It 
was  only  when  a  dark  rim  became  visible  on 
one  side  of  the  moon  that  signs  of  a  vague 
uneasiness  were  exhibited  in  the  camp.  Further 
and  further  over  the  moon's  bright   face  crept 


WITH    THE   BOOT -JACKS   AND   WAVED   THEM    WILOLV    I.N    tilt 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


UK   Mi>siN(;   ii,iKsi:s  IN   •;  HE  sicick-vakd 


\ri:oto. 


the  darkness  ;  darker  and  darker  grew  the  night. 
Canar)'    and    other  dusky    infants  broke  into 
:  wails,  but  still  I  continued  my  weird 
.._,    and    physical    drill    with     the 
boot-jacks.     Soon  only  a  small  section 
of     the     moon     was     visible,     and 
gradually   even    that    was   obliterated 
nnd    we   were    |)lunged  in  total  dark- 


's  gave  way.     They 

.,    to    their    gunyaks, 

tumbling  over  stumps  and  each  other, 

and    after    shouting    to   them   that    I 

u,.,.l.?    fr.-it    the    great    sun     in    an 

imary  manner  if  the  horses 

lot    found    by    the    morrow    I 

-  V   way   back    to   the  house, 

d  wi^h  my  evening's  work. 

rudely    roused    from     my 

■   ne.xt    morning    by 

-,  . wus    scrubbing,    and 

found    that    Sdina,   clothed    and    in 

I,  was   doing   her  best 

•  ■     . .  .1- .1  ■      1  lie    \ — 

tbrir     pristin'-     w! 

pre^ 


of  anxiety  in 
no  put  out  b 
leave  'ni   all 


nothing,  I  wandered  aimlessly 
round  the  horse  -  paddock, 
trying  in  vain  to  think  where 
the  missing  horses  could 
be.  On  my  way  back  to 
the  homestead  I  had  to 
pass  a  small  stock-yard,  and 
there,  securely  bolted  in, 
were  the  wanderers  !  They 
were  a  sorry  -  looking  lot 
indeed,  but  still  horses,  and 
a  means  of  getting  to  civiliza- 
tion. 

As  I  approached  them 
Jimmy  Mack  emerged  from 
their  midst  and  strolled 
towards  me. 

"Horses  found  them- 
selves," he  remarked,  care- 
lessly. Then,  with  a  shade 
his  voice,  he  added,  "  You 
feller  sun  now,  boss  ?  You 
'Bacca,   boss  ?  " 


right  ? 


I 


KUr      \) 


in 


■  1  It. 

.1  ,), 


1     boards    to 

,     while    still 

■  IT      the 

"gins"  and 

^<-v,   about 

I    having, 

Seiina,  when 


irance  could 


impventfully. 
'  ftnd  w  intervals, 

(indown,  iircd  of  doing 


HAITI 


VOU    NO   PUT  OUT    BIG    FKM.ER    SUN    NOW,    BOSS?' 


/\i^Wintcr 

[/frs.  LEI^onTftiele. 


^A 


'KF 


II. 


Mrs.  von  Thiele  conceived  the  idea  of  undertaking  a  sleigh  drive  in  the  depth  of  winter  through 
the  wild  and  picturesque  Telemarken  district  of  Norway.  She  knew  nothing  of  the  language,  and 
travelled  quite  alone.  Hverybody  prophesied  before  the  start  that  she  would  either  be  devoured 
by  the  wolves  and  bears  that  lurk  in  the  vast  forests,  or  else  frozen  to  death  or  lost  in  a  snow- 
drift.    The  trip,   however,  was  a  triumphant  success,    and   Mrs.  von   Thiele  saw  and  photographed 

many  strange  and  curious  things. 


HE  overland  route  from  Chiistiaiiia  to 
Bergen  in  winter  is  literally  a  terra 
iucos,)nta  not  only  to  foreigners,  but 
to  the  Norwegians  themselves.  Few 
ever  undertake  the  long  and  difficult 
journey,  preferring  either  to  go  by  sea  or — 
unless  compelled  by  dire  necessity — to  wait 
until  spring,  when  the  roads  are  once  more 
open  for  traffic.  As  for  a  lady  attempting  such 
a  feat,  nobody  could  believe  it  was  possible.  It 
was  on  this  account  that,  as  an  Englishwoman, 
I  determined  to  be  the  first  to  make  the 
journey. 

The  train  took  me  as  far  as  Honefos,  where 
I  made  a  stay  of  several  days  to  equip  myself 
for  my  expedition.  I  had  learnt  from  bitter  ex- 
perience in  the  Telemarken  that  the  only  way 
to  escape  the  evil  consequences  of  intense  cold 
was  by  adopting  as  far  as  possible  the  clothing 
of  the  country  people,  and,  above  all,  to  keep 
exposed  parts  covered  up,  however  warm  and 
comfortable  one  might  feel.  I  had,  therefore, 
invested  in  thick  woollen  stockings,  of  which  I 
always  wore  a  couple  of  pairs  at  the  .same  time  ; 
over  the.se  I  wore  the  huge  knitted  cowhair 
socks  of  the  peasants,  and  instead  of  boots  I 
wore  "  fin  sko,"  composed  of  reindeer  skin, 
coming  up  to  the  knees.  The  fur,  a  very  pretty 
grey,  is  left  outside,  and  the  comi)lete  boot  looks 
like  a  big  moccasin.  Dry  hay  is  pushed  in  all 
round,  on  which  the  feet  rest,  so  that  an 
ordinary  observer  would  imagine  from  a  cursory 
glance  at  these  huge,  swollen  boots  that  every- 
body   was    suffering   from    a    severe   attack    of 


gout.  My  costume  consisted  of  every  skirt 
and  warm  jersey  I  possessed,  piled  one  upon 
another  and  supplemented  by  a  sealskin  coat, 
a  fur  cloak,  a  country  cap  with  ear  flaps,  and, 
surmounting  all,  a  voluminous  shawl  covering 
head  and  shoulders.  Even  with  all  these 
wrappings  my  various  hostesses  could  never  be 
induced  to  believe  I  was  warm  enough,  and 
they  invariably  insisted  on  my  wearing  their 
husband's  coat  as  well  !  I  was  literally  passed 
on  from  station  to  station  wearing  borrowed 
clothes.  The  kindness  and  warm-heartedness 
of  the  Norwegians  are  proverbial,  and  never 
displayed  more  than  in  the  winter.  Directly 
I  arrived  at  a  station  my  hostess  would  take 
off  my  outer  coverings  and  lead  me  to  the 
red-hot  iron  stove  in  the  corner,  where  logs 
of  wood  could  be  heard  crackling  merrily, 
emitting  a  most  delicious  scent  of  pine,  and 
fragrant  coffee  would  be  prepared  and  brought 
me.  My  coat  from  the  last  station  would  be 
returned  to  the  post-boy — who  would  [)romptly 
l)ut  it  on  himself— and  while  a  fresh  horse  was 
being  harnessed  to  my  sleigh  the  whole  house- 
hold would  be  busy  hunting  up  another  coat 
for  me.  I  used  to  feel  very  much  like  a  pre- 
paid parcel  being  passed  on  in  this  manner,  for 
at  many  of  the  posting  stations  nobody  could 
speak  English,  and  as  1  could  speak  no  Nor- 
wegian most  of  the  intercourse  was  carried  on 
by  signs,  although  I  must  confess  my  post-boys 
were  always  ready  to  impart  all  the  curious 
scraps  of  information  they  had  gleaned  about 
me  en  route  or  from  their  predecessors. 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


.  ,.     ,.l-.->    l.N    HEK    SLEIGH 

From  a  Photo. 


fl^thrsj^ifi). 


If  Honcfos 
is  beautiful  in 
sumnK^r,  it  is 
a  thousand 
limes  more  so  in  winter.  Everything  appears 
lo  be  new-born,  without  speck  or  stain  ;  the 
streets  arc  covered  with  a  carpet  of  snow,  so 
white  one   fears    to    sully   its 

I>;^'"  '■'  ' ''r^  on  it ;  from 

ti  y  house  hangs 

a   fringe  of   ghttering    icicles, 
a'  '  ■'       wood   smoke 

ft  )S  becomes  a 

delicate  blue  veil  against  the 
of  the  sky.  'i  he 
Its  pine  -  clothed 
banks,  is  completely  frozen 
^'  ;»t  where  a  stream- 

a  ii.ii..),^  ribbon  of  silver  flash 
ffv.;    in    the    .sun  —  forces    a 
hrough  the  thick  ice 
-  V    down     the 

^  Waterfall  it- 

itiful  sight 
"  volume  of 

into    a 

It   is 

11   the 

■••r- 

'.•■! 


the  semblance  of  lace-work, 
a  pool  of  water  seethed  and 
fretted  in  a  perfect  frenzy 
of  rage,  hurling  itself  again 
and  again  against  its  icy 
barriers  and  casting  showers 
of  milk-white  spray  around. 
As  we  merrily  tinkled 
our  way  beside  the  frozen 
lake  of  Spirillen,  past  the 
steamers,  black  and  life- 
less, moored  close  to  the 
banks  waiting  for  the  spring 
to  burst  their  icy  bonds 
and  bring  them  back  to 
life  and  activity,  there  was 
a  sense  of  utter  isolation 
and  complete  silence  that 
was  most  impressive.  Here 
and  there,  at  the  foot  of  the  sloping  hills,  a  few 
brightly-painted  farmhouses  could  be  seen,  but 
all  boundaries  of  fields  and  cultivated  lands  were 
buried  under  the  one  universal  pall  of  snow. 
Now  and  again  we  could  see  men  examining  the 
rafts  of  timber  immovably  fixed  in  the  ice,  or  a 
peasant  would  pass  with  a  sleigh  load  of  hay, 


V 

r:. 


a 


A    VlhW    IN    VALUERS 

From  a  Photo. 


mm 


and    stalagmites 
which  the  sun- 

fts  of 

iuirous 

r  which  lurk 

ind  flashing 

.ii.:^i-,  carved  into 


the  pony  entirely  in- 
visible under  its  over- 
hanging burden.    The 

path  was  very  narrow — just  the  width  of  the 
sleigh— and  so  piled  up  with  high  banks  of  snow 
that  we  had  the  greatest  difficulty  in  passing. 
Several  times  the  sleigh  was  all  but  overturned 


MV    MIDWINTER   SLEIGH   TOUR    IN    NORWAY. 


as   the   pony   gallantly   tried  to  make    his  way 
alon^,  often  breast  high  in  snow. 

Valders  is  one  of  the  most  romantic  districts 
in  Norway.  'I'he  scenery  is  fine,  with  rocky 
mountains  rising  in  snowy  ranges  one  above  the 
other,  with  fir  trees  clambering  up  the  sides, 
their  branches  forming  a  black  fretwork  against 
the  brilliant  sky.  In  the  forests  the  trees  are 
festooned  with  long  trails  of  grey  moss,  giving 
them  the  appearance  of  being  covered  with  a 
shawl  of  delicate  silvery  lace.  Some  people 
have  an  idea  that  snow  scenery  is  monotonous. 


THE   CURIOUS   OE,l)   CHURCH   OK 

HEDAL,    WHICH     WAS     "  LOST  " 

FOR    200    YEARS. 

From  a  Photo. 

Nothing  can  be  more 
erroneous,  for    the 
glorious  depth  of  colouring 
it    assumes,     the     delicate 
lights  and  shades  that  lie 
hidden     in     its     luminous 
shadows,  or  suddenly  flash 
out   as    the    sun    touches    the 
frozen  crystals,  are  constantly 
changing   and    disclosing  new 
beauties.     There   is   no   cold- 
ness in  the  scenery  ;  it  is  one 
splendid,  scintillating  blaze  of 
brilliant  colouring.     Even  the 
telegraph  wires  become  things 
of  beauty  in  this  winter   land 
of    magic,    the    snow    forming 


A     I-  L  M-  HAl.     L  . 


itself  into  beads  of  gossamer  lighinL-s.>,  and 
luoking  for  all  the  world  like  pearls  strung  on 
silver  threads. 

Some  little  distance  from   the   main  road  is 
the  curious  old  church  of  Hedal,  which,  since 
my  visit,  has  unfortunately  been  pulled  down. 
It   was   one   of   the   oldest    buildings    in    the 
country,  being  some  600  or  700  years  old,  and 
built   of  wood.      Having  escaped  the  hands  of 
the  restorers,  it  had  retained  its  unique  character 
and  was  a  standing  monument  of  old  Norway. 
The   whole   countryside   teems   with  traditions, 
and    they   cluster   thickly   round    this    ancient 
church.   It  is  said  that  when  the  "  Black  Death  " 
ravaged  the  country  in   the  fourteenth  century 
the  whole  district  of  Hedalen  became  depopu- 
lated, everybody  dying  off  except  one  little  girl. 
Some  years  afterwards  some  hunters   in   search 
of  game  came  to  the  neighbourhood  and  found 
footprints    which    looked   curiously    like   those 
made  by  a   human    being.     They 
/''""%.              were  very  much   surprised,  as  the 
v^       ^            whole  countryside   was   known   to 
be  deserted  ;  but,  following  up  the 
tracks,    they   at    last  discovered    a 
young  maiden.    She  was  absolutely 
wild,  with  no  knowledge  of  speech. 
Her  captors  took  her  home  with 
them,  and  after  a  time  she  learnt 
to   talk   and  was   able   to  explain 
who  she  was.      She  was  the  sole 
survivor  of  the  village  of  Hedal  n. 
her    parents   and    everybody   <  - 
having  been  swept 
away  by  the  terrible 
plague,   and    she 
had  run  about  the 
woods    feeding    on 
grass   and    herbs 
and  berries,  and 
climbing    trees     at 
night  or    hiding  in 
caves  away  from  the 
wild    beasts   which 
soon     infested    the 
desolated      district. 
As  the  girl  liad  lur- 
gotten  her  name  her 
rescuers 
her    "  i  ,. 
after  the  wild- 
est anc 
of  all 
gian  c: 
She  event  I : 
niarrieil,  .ii'«i 
her  de.scend- 
ants,  who  still 
"'J'  '""■i,v;" &    ii'  live    in    the 

hrom  a  Photo.  ^ 


72 


THE    WIDI':    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


neighbourhood,   are    known    by   the   name   of 

'  -,"'  in  honour  of  their  ancestress. 

i.....-..w,  :hc  girl  had   been   so  young  when 

she  was  left  an  orphan   that  she  had  forgotten 

the  church  or  was  unable  to  point  out  its  where- 

a'  '■  -  "'v:-  very  memory  of  it  died  away  or 

H.i  >  a  legend.     A  couple  of  centuries 

jxissed,  trees  had  sprung  up  and  formed  dense 

fi''  !«1  the  whole  district  was  given  over  to 

w  s.     Some  hunters  after  a  bear  entered 

>t,    and    in    shooting    an     arrow    at 

liic  animal   struck   something   which  rang  like 

a  bell.     They  followed  up  this  curious  sound, 

which    turned    out    to    come    from    one     of 

the  church   bells,  and    thus    brought    to    light 

'ic    of   the    long-deserted    village. 

killed  and  its  skin  preserved,  but 

K    was   many    years    before    the    superstitious 

|)cople  could  be  persuaded  that  it  was  a  Christian 


fine    farm   and    is  called    "  Ildgjernstad "  (The 
Farm  of  the  Iron). 

When  I  was  at  Hedalen  a  funeral  was  in 
process.  All  the  farmhouses  in  the  neighbour- 
hood displayed  the  Norwegian  flag  at  half-mast, 
and  from  a  poor  cottage  close  to  the  church  a 
sonorous  voice  could  be  heard,  reading  aloud 
passages  from  the  Bible  and  reciting  the  Burial 
Service.  As  the  voice  ceased  four  beautiful 
mellow  bells  commenced  tolling,  and  a  sad 
little  procession  came  slowly  towards  the  church- 
yard. The  white  coffin  was  of  a  curious 
sarcophagus  shape,  and  was  borne  by  several 
men.  Nobody  wore  mourning  ;  bright  colours 
were  the  rule  and  not  the  exception,  and  the 
picturesque  national  costume  was  more  in 
evidence  than  at  any  other  place  I  came  to. 
After  the  words  of  committal  relays  of 
mourners  took  spades  and  picks  and  broke  up 


"r    ro  SKK   OLD    MKN    OK   OVER    I:k;H TV    DRAGGING    A    LIITI.K   SLEU    LP   TMK    MOUNTAIN    SIDR. 

l-'rom  a  i'hoto. 


vcred,  and  not  one  belong- 

nitic     i)cople"     underground. 

:    Ix;  induced   to  enter  it,  until  at 

iiian  who  was  consulted  advocated  a 

"1  not  only  deprive  the  pi.xies 

'    would   prevent  ijiem  doing 

,'le  who  took  it  away  from 

'1  was  to  take  a  piece  of  iron 

•  '  in  and  throw  it  over 

•   was  fuund  ready  to 

'I,  and,  as  a  reward  for 

'  where  the  iron  fell 

,1 •v'liits  Still 

■    into  a 


the  masses  of  frozen  earth  and  so  filled  ihc- 
grave,  while  the  bells  clanged  and  pealed  until 
the  last  clod  was  piled  upon  the  high  mound 
and  all  was  over. 

Inside  this  long-lost  church  I  saw  preserved, 
under  a  glass  case,  the  skin  of  the  bear  which 
was  the  means  of  the  re-discovery  of  this  mar- 
vellous old  relic  of  the  past. 

It  is  in  winter  that  the  Norwegians  do  most 
of  their  carrying  trade,  the  summer-time  being 
devoted  entirely  to  the  tourist  traffic.  The  snow 
and  ice  are  a  great  aid  in  transporting  all  sorts 
of  goods  from  one  place  to  another,  and  I  have 
often  encountered  rough   sleds   laden  with   the 


MV    Mil-)    WINTER   SLEIGH    TOUR    IX    NORWAY 


73 


most  incongruous  commodities,  varying  from 
household  furniture  to  boats.  This  is  espticially 
the  season  for  transporting  timber  from  the 
mountains.  A  track  is  made  between  the  trees 
and  the  timber  is  slid  down  over  the  frozen 
surface  of  the  ground,  though  where  the  ordinary 
paths  are  used  a  pony  will  drag  as  many  as  twenty 
pine  trees,  hooked  on  by  chains  end  to  end,  down 
to  the  valley  below.  The  peasants  fell  and  haul 
their  su[)ply  of  wood  at  this  time,  and  it  is 
no  uncommon  sight  to  see  old  men  of  over 
eighty  dragging  a  little  sled  a  thousand  or  more 
feet  up  the  mountain  side  in  the  early  morning 
and,  after  felling  a  tree,  bring  it  down  and  chop 
it  into  firewood.  The  snow  is  often  too  deep  to 
allow  of  ordinary  boots  being  worn  and  the 
paths  too  winding  and  full  of  sharp  turns  for 
skis,  so  curious  snow-shoes  are  used.  They  are 
called  "trogs,"  and  are  made  of  pliant  birch 
twigs  plaited  round  a  couple  of  wires,  forming  a 
flat  surface  about  the  size  of  a  dinner  plate. 
They  are  tied  on  the  feet  by  means  of  willow 
withes. 

All  over  Norway  one  is  first  apprised  of  the 
vicinity  of  human  habitations  by  the  enormous 
number  of  magpies  to  be  met  with.  They  fly 
about  in  large  flocks  and  appear  quite  fearless, 
and  not  only  do  they  build  in  trees,  but  a  hole 
is  made  for  them  in  the  roofs  of  barns  so 
that  they  may  nest  inside  the  building  as  well. 
They  do  a  great  deal  of  mischief,  but  are  pro- 
tected by  ancient  superstitions,  and  no  farmer 
would  think  of  injuring  them  or  even  of  stealing 
their  eggs. 

During  nearly  the  whole  of  my  sleighing  tour 
I  was  favoured  with  glorious 
weather,     brilliant     sunshine, 
and  cloudless  skies.    The  one 
unpleasant  exception  was  the 
road  between  Fjeldheim  and 
Frydenlund.       The     weather 
had    been     peculiarly    warm 
when     we     started,     but    no 
sooner   had    we   reached   the 
summit  of  the  mountains  than 
we  encountered  a  most  terrific 
tempest   of  wind.      In  some 
places  it  had  completely  swept 
away   the   snow,    leaving   the 
bare  ground  exposed,  in  others 
heaping   it   u[)    in   high   walls 
and  completely  filling  the  air 
with  minute  crystals  of  snow, 
almost   blinding  us.     As  this 
sharp  dust  settled  on  the  face 
so   it    froze,    forming    a    hard 
mask  of  ice,  caking  the  eye- 
lids  together  and    making   it 
most    painful    to    open    one's 
Vol.  x.-io. 


eyes.  Every  moment  the  cold  became  more 
intense  ;  the  wind  shrieked  and  howled ;  and 
as  we  crouched  down  in  the  sleigh  for  safety 
it  tore  at  us  and  buffeted  us  as  if  it  would 
drag  us  bodily  away.  I  tried  to  explain  to  my 
driver  that  it  would  be  better  to  seek  shelter, 
but  by  signs — for  he  could  not  make  himself 
heard  above  the  horrible  din — he  showed  me  it 
was  impossible. 

(iradually  the  air  became  so  dark  with  the 
whirling  grey  atoms  that  we  could  not  see  a  foot 
before  us  ;  twice  the  poor  pony  floundered  in  a 
deep  snowdrift,  and  twice  we  were  flung  out. 
At  last  the  driver  motioned  to  me  that  it  was 
useless  trying  to  drive  ;  our  only  chance  of  safety 
lay  in  giving  the  pony  its  head  and  trusting  to 
its  instinct  to  keep  on  the  road  and  bring  us 
to  the  next  station.  After  many  vicissitudes 
the  gallant  little  beast  made  its  way  over  the 
mountains  to  the  sheltered  valley,  and  we  were 
safe.  This  was  the  worst  storm  of  the  year,  and 
a  post-boy  with  the  mails,  who  started  after  us, 
was  blown,  with  his  pony  and  sleigh,  down  a 
l)recipice,  and  only  narrowly  escaped  with  his 
life  by  crawling  under  a  rock,  where  he  was  dis- 
covered five  hours  afterwards  by  a  search  party, 
unconscious  and  half  frozen. 

As  I  approached  the  Filefjeld  the  snow 
became  deeper  and  deeper,  jln  maqy  places 
the  road  was  so  completely  blocked  by  falls  of 
snow  and  drifts  that  tunnels  had  to  be  cut 
through  ;  in  other  places  the  snow  was  piled 
up  some  2oft.  beside  the  paths,  and  the 
loose   snow  came   down    in    showers  upon  us, 


lAMK  KFINDEK.K  DKAWINti  A  Sl.KI) 

[•'roiii  a  Fhoto. 


74 


lilL    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


frightening  the  pony  and  threatening  to 
overwhelm  us.  In  many  places,  instead  of 
sleighs  drawn  by  ponies,  I  encountered  small, 
steel  -  shod  sleds  drawn  by  tame  reindeer. 
These  are  able  to  get  over  the  snow  at  a  much 
'    r   rate   than    the    ponies,    owing    to    the 

ir  formation  of  their  hoofs.  The  hoofs 
are  fashioned  very  much  like  those  of  a  cow, 
e-xcept  that  the  two  divided  parts  are  flexible. 
As  the  hoofs  touch  the  snow  they  spread  out, 
and  thus  cover  a  larger  area  of  ground  and 
prevent  the  animal  sinking  in.  No  bit  is  used 
'  -  '■  •  reindeer,  the  reins  being  fastened  to  the 

:  the  horns  and  the  harness  ornamented 
with  bells  and  prettily  embroidered  leather-work. 
I  was  disappointed  at  not  being  able  to  visit  the 
tirr.l  of   700  reindeer  that  were  on  the  Jotun 


soon  find  out  their  value  and  become  reconciled 
to  them. 

On  the  Filefjeld,  among  the  mountains,  we 
came  across  many  deserted  summer  saeters — the 
places  occupied  by  the  cow-girls  when  the  cattle 
are  on  the  high  pastures.  They  looked  very 
lonely  and  desolate,  surrounded  with  ice  and 
snow,  and  miles  away  from  the  nearest  farm, 
and  it  was  difficult  to  believe  that  anybody 
could  be  induced  to  cut  themselves  off  so 
completely  from  friends  and  kindred  for  many 
months  at  a  time,  even  in  the  summer.  I  was 
an.xious  to  see  the  interior  of  a  saefer^  but 
most  were  securely  fastened.     At  last  we  came 


\f 


of 


•  "•I  <<"iiiji   tu  tiic  pre- 

K\\f   f>aihs   were  (juite 

I,  as   the  snow 

'e  down 

'  •  >iit  > if 


ponies 
formed 


into    a 
which  are 


11.    and 


r\i.i  r.v  (.r    1  1  ;. 


■>M'   iciLi  i-.s.  ■         {I'hot. 


M 


MV    MID -WINTER   SLEIGH   TOUR   IN    NORWAY. 


75 


to  one  where  the  door  had  been  blown  in  by 
the  storm,  so  that  we  were  able  to  enter.  It  was 
a  hut  built  of  rough  logs,  the  interstices  piled  up 
with  moss,  and  the  roof  a  mixture  of  bark  and 
turf.  Inside  tliere  were  three  small  rooms,  one 
leading  out  of  the  other,  without  doors,  and  all 
knee  deep  in  snow.  In  the  first  room  there 
was  a  large  fireplace  for  boiling  the  milk  for  the 
cheeses,  for  the  sacter  girls  employ  their  spare 
time  in  making  butter  and  cheese.  There  were 
certainly  no  luxurii;s  in  the  way  of  furniture — 
only  a  wooden  bench,  two  very  ancient  wooden 
bedsteads  filled  with  straw,  some  shackles  for 
the  feet  of  kicking  cows,  halters,  a  few  wooden 
spoons  and  bowls,  and  such-like  oddments. 

The  Landal  Valley  might  well  be  called  the 
"  Valley  of  Ten  Thousand  Icicles,"  for  nowhere 
else  are  they  so  radiantly  beautiful.  The  road 
is  blasted  out  of  the  solid  rock,  and  rises  in 
zigzags  up  the  side  of  perpendicular  cliffs.  The 
scenery  is  often  very  fine,  the  white  mountains 
relieved  by  black  pine  woods  from  which  every 
particle  of  snow  had  been  swept 
away  by  the  recent  winds.  Hanging 
from  the  rocky  walls  were  number- 
less frozen  waterfalls  transformed 
into  coruscating  jewels,  with  the 
rugged  rocks  bedecked  with  the 
most  magnificent  curtain  of  icicles 
of  every  colour.  The  road  hangs 
high  above  the  Laera  River,  which 
was  completely  frozen  over  in  places, 
but  so  impetuous  was  the  torrent 
that  it  had  torn  a 
passage  f  hrough  the 
ice,  heaping  it  up 
in  immense  blocks, 
and   keeping   up  a 


perpetual  roaring  that  could  be  heard  miles 
away.  In  this  valley  is  the  old  "Stave  Kirke  " 
of  Borgund,  the  most  ancient  church  in  Norway, 
built  in  the  curious  old  pagoda  style  with  many 
tiers,  and  ornamented  with  dragons  and  other 
strange  mythological  figures. 

As  we  approached  Laerdalsoren  the  snow 
became  less  and  less  deep,  and  at  last  we  were 
obliged  to  exchange  our  sleigh  for  a  wheeled 
conveyance,  a  change  certainly  not  for  the 
better,  for  the  wheels  skidded  perpetually  on 
the  ice-covered  road.  Straggling  farms  were 
passed  where  the  fields  consisted  of  more 
boulders  than  soil,  and  the  houses  of  turf  and 
stone  crouched  close  to  the  earth  in  spiritless 
harmony  with  their  sombre  surroundings.  On 
the  barren  hills  small  sheep,  black  and  white, 
vainly  tried  to  pick  up  a  few  frozen  blades  of 
grass.  The  scenery  gradually  lost  its  distinctive 
Norwegian  character,  and  the  gloomy  mountains 
with  their  frowning,  barren  sides  gave  one  an 
idea  of  utter  desolation  and  hopeless  sterility. 


/       I  HK    VI 


LLAGIi   OF    GUDVANGAN  — THE   SONS    K.WS     %\SV.V.    KKACll    IT    IS    WIN 


--V       CHUKCII    IN    NOBttAV. 

I'.'Kt  I'Matos. 


One  of  the 

most  romantic 

parts   of  my 

journey   was 

the     n. 

sail   from   I  .'>   >..>!- 

soren    to  Cudvan- 

gan.     The  little 

steamer  tiiat  plies  on  the 

Sogne   Fjord   in   winter 

is  (.specially  constructed 

for  breaking  through  the 


THE    WIDE    WORLD   MAGAZINE 


_..  there  are  a  few  passengers,  the 
.  of  the  ship  appears  to  be  to  carry 
the   mails.     The   landing  stage  is  a  short  way 
r        '        '  '  r  •  !  on  my  arrival  I  found  the  ship 
.  :  .  ice-field,  extending  as  far  as 
the  eye  could  reach,  and  with  no  open  water  on 
either  side.     There  was  but  one  little  cabin  on 
board,  and  that  so  stuffy  and  hot  that  I  elected 
to  stay  up  on  the  bridge  with  the  first  officer,  who 
was  acting  as  captain  for  the  trip.    Our  ship  pre- 
pared to  start  by  commencing  to  plunge  and  back 
and  almost  to  rear,  at  the  same  time  dashing 
itself  again  and  again  against  the  massive  banks 
'     h  held  it  as  in  a  vice.     Crack!  crack! 
i->h  !    Went   the  ice,   but  still   it   held 
firm.     (Ireat  masses  were  torn  out  and  tossed 
ke  feathers,  only  to  disappear  beneath 
..._  .......  V.  of  tile  water  and  be  replaced  by  even 


the  ice  as  it  shivered  and  disappeared,  making 
way  for  the  clear  water  with  its  gleams  of  emerald 
green  that  ever  narrowed  until  we  appeared  to 
be  on  a  river.  Here  and  there  a  few  solitary  lights 
denoted  a  village,  and  as  the  steamer  screeched 
out  the  news  of  its  arrival  the  postmaster  would 
come  on  board,  sometimes  empty-handed, 
occasionally  with  a  few  letters  or  packages  to  be 
exchanged  for  others,,  and  then  again  perfect 
silence  would  reign.  Gudvangan,  my  destina- 
tion, was  fast  in  the  ice,  and  as  we  approached 
the  Naero  Fjord  we  found  it  thicker  and  more 
difficult  to  break  through.  At  last,  after  a  few 
fruitless  attempts  to  push  forward,  the  panting 
engines  ceased,  and  with  a  gigantic  effort  the 
steamer  swung  round  and  then  came  to  a  stand- 
still. All  round  the  ship,  except  for  the  way  we 
had  come,  were  numbers  of  black   figures  on 


.  ^/. 


lllfc    hkAi>il»'UU   NAfcMUbAL   VAI.l.tV,    FLANKED   BY   MOUNTAINS    3,OOOFT.    TO   6,0OOIT.    HIGH. 

I'rjut  a  Photo. 


T'"--  •'•ssel  (juivered  from  end  to 

a  living   creature  fighting 

in  the  funnel  belched  out 

•     !y  in  its  struggles, 

.'.L   la.st,   however,   by 

'    manoruvring   we    slowly 

<•  through  the 

III  of  the  fjord  in 

11  this  fjord  would 

"  <•  tjf  a  full 

,      in  Norway 

in  this  country. 

'  iwn,  no 

i.uidscape 

up  as  with 

It.     There  was 

.,  c  x» .tjA  ior  the  rustling  of 


skates,  waiting  to  take  the  mails  and  merchan 
disc  ashore.  These  were  soon  lowered  down 
and  stowed  into  a  boat,  some  of  the  men 
clambered  inside,  others  harnessed  themselves 
behind  and  at  the  side  to  keep  it  steady,  and 
away  they  sped. 

Hearing  at  Laerdal  that  there  was  some 
possibility  of  the  ice  extending  several  miles 
from  (ludvangan,  and  the  ship  not  being  able 
to  reach  it,  I  had  telephoned  for  some  means  of 
conveyance  to  come  out  for  me.  This  I  found 
awaiting  me  on  the  ice;  it  consisted  of  a 
small  sledge.  My  luggage  was  placed  on  this 
and  I,  well  wrapped  up  in  rugs,  was  perched  on 
top  ;  and  then,  with  my  man  skating  behind  to 
steer  the  sledge  and  with  a  cheery  "  Farvel  " 
from  the  ship's  officer,  away  we  slid  in  the 
wake   of  the  loaded  boat  over  the  four  miles 


MV    MID    WIXTKR    SLKIC.H    TOUR    IX    XURU-.W. 


77 


of  frozen    fjord  that  lay  between   me  anil   my 
destination. 

As  \vc  glided  noiselessly  over  the  ice  the 
sublimity  of  the  scene  became  almost  over- 
powering. Hemming  us  in  on  either  side  were 
gigantic  walls  of  granite,  powdered  with  snow, 
the  deep  fissures  gleaming  whitely  in  the  moon- 
light and  the  summits  glittering  with  a  crown 
of  molten  silver.  Under  us  was  black  ice  like 
polished  jet.  From  the  boat  in  front  the  post- 
man's bugle  broke  the  silence,  ringing  out  clear 
and  distinct  in  the  frosty  air  and  raising  weird 
echoes.  Directly  afterwards,  as  if  in  answer  to 
a  challenge,  the  distant  thunder  of  avalanches 
shooting  down  with  terrific  velocity  could  be 
heard  reverberating  from  the  surrounding  hills 
and  gradually  dying  sullenly  away  in  the 
distance.  As  far  as  possible,  in  order  to  escape 
the  terrific  force  of  the  air-currents,  all  the 
houses  composing  the  little  hamlet  of  Gudvangan 
are  built  under  the  shelter  of  huge  rocks  that 
at  some  time  or  other  have  been  flung  down 
from  the  hillside,  but  even  with  all  these 
precautions  a  great  deal  of  damage  is  done. 
The  night  of  my  arrival  the  roofs  of  no  fewer 
than  four  farmhouses  were  torn  off  by  the 
terrific  wind  caused  by  the  avalanches  tearing 
down  through  the  narrow  valley.  Through 
Ciudvangan  being  so  encompassed  by  moun- 
tains the  sun  never  reaches  it  in  winter,  and 
even  in  summer  it  gets  very  little  direct  sun- 
light.    In  order  to  get  the  hay  dried,  therefore, 


A    STKtlcr    IS-    OIAINT   OLO    lll:K^.l: 
I'roiit  a   /'/;<>/,'. 


hurdles  are  erected  in  every  situation  likely  to 
catch  a  ray  of  sunshine,  and  on  these  the  grass 
is  placed. 

The  Naerodal  Valley  is  undoubtedly  one  of 
the  finest  valleys  in  Norway,  flanked  by 
mountains  3,000ft.  to  6,000ft.  high.  Every 
step  one  takes  the  scenery  becomes  grander 
and  grander,  culminating  in  the  dome-shaped 
Jordalsnut  towering  austerely  above  the  fan- 
tastic peaks  of  the  surrounding  mountains. 
The  valley,  never  more  than  a  few  hundred 
yards  in  width,  gradually  narrows  until  further 
progress  appears  impossible.  The  mountains 
close  in  until  they  seem  to  touch.  This  appa- 
rently impassable  cleft  has  been  engineered  into 
a  curious  zigzag  road,  looking  from  below  like 
the  teeth  of  a  saw.  That  evening,  although 
there  was  no  breath  of  wind  in  the  valley,  a 
furious  hurricane  was  raging  on  the  mountain 
tops,  and  we  could  see  the  snow  whirling  in 
thick  clouds,  sometimes  forming  spiral  columns 
that  remained  almost  stationary  in  the  air  for 
some  seconds,  finally  dispersing  in  fine  mist. 

The  weather  had  broken  up  after  the  long 
spell  of  glorious  sunshine,  and  I  was  very  glad 
to  finish  my  journey  from  Voss  to  Bergen  by 
the  prosaic  railway,  instead  of  sleighing,  as  I 
had  intended.  How  curious  it  felt  to  be  once 
more  in  a  crowd  and,  instead  of  having  crisp, 
clean  snow  crunching  under  foot,  to  feel  dirty, 
half-li(iuid  mud  ! 

Bergen — the  terminus  of  my  trip— is  said  to 
be  the  rainiest  city  in  the  world,  and  cer- 
tainly it  tries  to  live  up  to  its  re[)Utation, 
for  when  it  failed  to  rain  outright  it  always 
managed  to  drizzle.  But,  in  spite  of  every- 
thing, it  is  one  of  the  most  delightful 
places  imaginable.  It  is  a  city  of  constant 
surprises  ;  modern  and  ancient  architec- 
ture are  mixed  up  in  the  most  charming 
confusion.  One  minute  one  sees  all  the 
latest  phases  of  civilization— electric  cars 
and  fine  stone  buildings— and  in  the  next 
one  is  transported  back  to  the  sixteenth 
Century,  and  beholds  quaint  -  looking 
wooden  buildings  with  curious  gables, 
sharp-[)ointeil  and  red-tiled  roofs,  each 
standing  by  itself  and  painted  in  every 
variety  of  colour.  Many  of  the  old  Han- 
seatic  houses,  belonging  to  the  '  '  "n 

the  (icrman  trading  companies  i :cd 

North  Europe,  are  now  turned  into  store- 
houses for  dried  fish,  ropes,  hides,  and 
many  other  evil-smelling  commodities. 

The  great  excitement  of  Bergen  is  the 
bi  weekly  fish  market,  where  everybody 
meets  to  bargain  for  fish.  .\  fleet  of 
small  boats,  laden  with  every  variety  of 
fish,   is   drawn   jp  by  the  quayside,  and 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


lii  .be  purchasers  all  line  up  beside  the 

ra ^.   »:id,    leaning    over,    haggle    with    the 

fishermen  below.  Every  kind  of  fish  is  for 
sale,  from  diminutive  sprats  to  halibuts  weigh- 
ing 1501b.  or  even  more.  Some  of  the  vessels 
had  their  holds  full  of  salt  herrings  and  stock 
fish,  while  others  brought  the  fish  back  alive. 
Tl  re  transported  into  large  tanks  filled 

wr.^  1  sea  water,  and   were   sold  alive   to 

purchasers. 

It  was  very  amusing  to   watch   the  desperate 
eflorts  of  a  buxom  housewife  to  double  up  a 


to  the  first  man,  and,  after  appealing  to  all  the 
bystanders  to  sympathize  with  them  for  having  to 
pay  such  preposterous  prices  for  a  fish,  they 
would  turn  round  directly  they  had  paid  it  and 
ask  for  congratulations  on  securing  their  prize 
so  cheaply  !  As  for  the  fishermen,  they  never 
troubled  themselves  in  the  least  whatever  hap- 
pened. While  the  haggling  went  on  they 
calmly  continued  swabbing  their  boats  or 
arranging  their  goods,  and,  when  the  women 
had  finished,  stolidly  handed  them  up  the  fish 
without  a  word.     As  all  fish  is  sold  exactly  as 


THE    lll-WEIiKI.V    t-ISll    MAKKET 
AT    UEKUBN. 


very  lively  cod  and  cram  it  into  a  string  bag., 
The  crowd   was   a   very    cheerful    and    good- 
one,  the  women  especially  enjoying 
Kish    was    remarkably    cheap;    I 
k    .nny    sort    went    beyond   a    kroner 
■  lar^e  it  was,  but  the  women 
lining  just  for  its  own 
...ii  they  got  the  fish  any 
*•"''  I   talking.     Many  of  them 

Wcnl  lite  iuuitd  ol  ihc  sellers  and  then   returned 


l-'toin  a  Photo. 


caught,  without  being  wrapped  up  or  put  in 
baskets,  small  boys  earn  an  honest  penny  by 
walking  about  with  tin  pails  to  convey  the  fish 
home ;  and  one  of  the  commonest  sights  in  the 
market  was  to  .see  a  fine  salmon  or  collection  of 
small  fish  turning  somersaults  out  of  a  pail  on 
to  the  side  paths,  pursueil  by  irate  urchin.s,  who 
found  it  a  difficult  task  to  catch  the  slipiK-ry 
fisli  and  deposit  them  safely  back  in  their 
receptacle. 


Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hetzel,  of  St.  Louis,  set  off  directly  after  their  wedding  to  cycle  round  the  world  for  a  prize 
of  5,ooodols.  offered  by  the  International  League.  Attacks  by  superstitious  peasants  in  Wallachia,  long 
night-watches  on  trackless  deserts,  and  a  desperate  fight  for  life  with  Bedouin  marauders  were  some  of  the 
incidents  of  this  perilous  honeymoon.  Ultimately  the  tour  had  to  be  abandoned  and  the  adventurous 
pair  returned  home,  Mrs.  Hetzel  still  suffering  from  wounds  received  at  the  hands  of  bandits  in  the  desert. 


ONG  ninht-  watches  on  the  track- 
less  Salt  Desert  of  Asia  Minor,  the 
whirring  bullets  of  Arab  bandits, 
and  a  desperate  fight  for  life  were 
some  of  the  concomitants  of  the 
strenuous  honeymoon  of  James  and  Frau 
Gretchen  Hetzel.  They  are  two  sturdy 
American  cyclists,  now  in  Philadelphia  after 
an  unsuccessful  attempt  to  make  a  record  for 
girdling  the  world  awheel. 

Frau  Hetzel,  a  comely  girl,  spent  some  time 
in  the  German  Hospital  recovering  from  the 
aftereffects  of  wounds  received  in  an  attack 
by  marauding  Bedouins  during  their  perilous 
effort  to  cross  the  sandy  wastes  of  Asia 
Minor.  In  the  midst  of  that  sterile,  in- 
hospitable plain  the  girl  was  shot  down.  For 
thirty-two  hours  she  lay  helpless,  guarded  faith- 
fully by  her  husband,  until  aid  came  in  the  form 
of  a  friendly  IJerber  chief.  Inefificient  medical 
treatment  and  the  effects  of  rough  desert 
journeymg  left  her  wounds  still  unhealed,  and 
on  her  return  to  America  some  time  ago  she  had 
to  be  carried  from  the  steamer. 

On  April  ist  last  year  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hetzel 
were  married  in  St.  Mary's  Church,  St.  Louis, 
Mo.,  and  to  the  accompaniment  of  wedding 
bells  and  the  cheers  of  the  cyclists  of  the 
American  Lea-'ue,  who  iiad  assembled  in  their 
hundreds  to  bid   them  God-speed,   the  adven- 


turous pair  set  out  on  a  tandem  bicycle  to  put 
a  girdle  round  the  earth.  They  were  going  to 
attempt  to  break  all  previous  records,  and  hoped 
to  win  the  standing  prize  of  5,ooodols.  offered 
by  the  International  League  of  Cyclists  to  the 
tandem  pair  who  should  make  the  circle  of  the 
globe  in  two  years. 

The  cycle  frame  was  of  Hetzel's  own  make, 
and  especially  strong,  for  one  of  the  conditions 
attached  to  the  prize  was  that  the  frame  should 
return  in  as  sound  a  condition  as  when  it  Ingan 
the  trip.  The  tandem  was  therefore  built 
throughout  for  heavy  work.  \\hen  fully 
equipped  it  was  a  veritable  "  armoured  train." 
On  either  handle-bar  were  two  big  revolvers, 
really  formidable  weapons  of  awe-inspiring 
appearance. 

The  run  across  Europe  was  a  triumphal  pro- 
gress, but  after  that  the  troubles  of  the  plucky 
pair  began.  They  crossed  into  the  province  of 
Great  Wallachia  with  the  intention  of  proceed- 
ing to  Cairo,  and  thence  through  Port  Said  to 
Bombay.  From  this  point  onward  Mrs.  Het/e! 
tells  the  story  of  her  exciting  honeymoon. 

"  Our  clothes  and  the  machine,"  she  said, 
"  alarmed  the  superstitious  peasants  of  Wallachia 
terribly,  and  whenever  we  pas.sed  any  of  lliem 

on    the   road    they    would    run   aw ...g 

themselves  in  abject  terror.     Sonn  .  n 

their  fellows,  shouted  after  us,  and  some  even 


K 


.5  0 

but  we 
e  called 
in  i.iitle  Walla- 
•  'v.  The  day 
^  Karakal,  how- 
ever, we  were  attacked  on 
a    nv  'lis    road    by 

two      us     peasants. 

I'hcy    cursed    us    volubly 
and   then   commenced   to 

'• V  down   boulders. 

'  to  the  badness  of 
ve  could  not  ride 
a  ;i  them. 

of  the  stones  hit 
me  on  the  side  and  I  fell 
off  the  machine  in  a  heap. 
Tlicn  my  hu.sband  got 
atiL'rv  and  bt-gnn  to  use 
h 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


presently 
dropped. 


I  .    Set   up  a 

howling  and  ran 

u  re  arrested 

ai  .    _  .      -  .       _ ■•  .Tiid  sent 

on  to  Buchar  '"" 

iiding     three 

in  Bucharest 

t  .1)   Consul    secured 

d  by  their  experiences  they 
<  :    ';'    as  possible  into 

y  every 
were  impeded, 
•  either 

I        lans   or 

:  the  charge 

s.    The 

is  the 

•  imtries. 

lly   got    to 

le,        con- 

Hetzel, 

had   a 


IIETZEI.,     THE     IM.UCKY    LADY     WHO    SPENT     HER 
H')SKV,\l()ON    IN'    SUCH    A    UNIQUE    MANNER. 

Front  a  Photo. 


t> 

d 
bv    r! 

I; 

ti 


their    release, 
proceeded  to 

'Turkish  terri- 


f. 


I 


was  so  cross  that,  without 
thinking  of  what  he  was 
doing,  he  let  the  Turk 
have  his  fist  straight  be- 
tween the  eyes,  sending 
him  down  like  a  nine-pin  ! 
A\ell,  for  this  unheard-cf 
assault  we  were  promptly 
thrown  into  a  dirty,  ill- 
smelling  cell,  and  kept 
there  all  night. 

"  The  American  Consul, 
Mr.  Dickinson,  came  to 
our  aid  next  day,  and  we 
were  set  free.  We  could 
get  no  redress,  however, 
Mr.  Dickinson  saying  that 
we  must  call  the  flag  inci- 
dent square  because  my 
husband  had  hit  the  police 
official.  Our  revolvers, 
cartridges,  papers,  and  pic- 
tures were  taken  from  us, 
and  we  were  both  searched. 
Then  they  ordered  us  to 
get  out  of  the  country,  and 
sent  us  across  with  an 
armed  guard  to  Ismid. 
"  At  Ismid  our  belongings  were  returned  to 
us,  and  we  were  left  free  to  pursue  our  journey 
once  more.     We  hoped  to  make  a  straight  ritle 

from  there  to  Baghdad, 
but  we  were  warned  that, 
were  we  to  attempt  to 
cross  the  district  of 
Kastamuni,  we  should 
certainly  be  waylaid  and 
murdered  by  the  maraud- 
ing Kurds,  so  we  made 
a  long  detour  to  Konia, 
by  way  of  Brusa,  Bali- 
k  e  s  r  i ,  Smyrna,  and 
Denizli. 

"  Near  Konia  begins 
the  great  Salt  Desert. 
Two  hundred  miles  of 
that  awful  tract  lay  be- 
tween us  and  Angoro, 
and  if  we  had  but  known 
of  the  days  and  nights  of 
horror  that  that  terrible 
dead  land  held  for  us 
we  should  never  have 
set  foot  upon  it. 

"  It  was  on  November 
9lh  that  we  left  Konia. 
The  weather  was  warm 
and  we  were  glad  to 
leave     the     suffocating, 


I  III-;   tostlMK    HI-;    WOKE   ON     Till-; 
J'lUKNEV.  {Photo. 


A    CVCLIXd     IIONKVMUOX,    AND     HOW     II"    HXDEl). 


8i 


dirty  Arab  town  behind  for  the  open.  'l"\vo 
days  later  we  left  Insouyon,  the  last  camel 
station,  behind  us,  and  pushed  on  into  the 
depths  of  the  desert.  We  had  over  8olt).  oi 
luggage  with  us,  and  to  ride  in  the  fine,  shifting 
sands  was  impossible  ;  the  weigiit  of  the  bicycle 
alone  sank  it  several  inches  in  the  sand.  We 
could  not  ride  a  yard,  but  pushed  and  strove 
with  the  bicycle  until  we  were  ready  to  sink 
from  fatigue. 

"The  night  after  leaving  the  camel  station  we 
camped  on  the  open  desert.  We  ploughed  the 
bicycle  into  the  sand  until  it  stood  upright,  and 
then  stretched  a  cloth  from  front  to  rear  and 
fastened  it  to  the  ground  so  as  to  make  a  tent. 
Underneath  this  we  slept  on  a  single  piece  of 
oilcloth — that  is,  we  tried  to  sleep,  but  neither 
of  us  could  close  our  eyes.  My  husband  kept 
guard  for  four  hours  while  I  rested  under  the 
tent-cloth,  and  then  I  took  a  turn  while  he  tried 
to  sleep.  We  watched  with  a  big  revolver  in 
one  hand  and  a  mosquito-brush  in  the  other. 

"All  this  time  we  were  between  two  dangers. 
One  was  the  wild  beasts  that  prowl  through  the 
desert,  the  other  from  the  roving  Berbers  and 
Bedouins,  murderous  fanatics,  who  are  far  more 
dangerous  than  any  wild  animal.  A  fire  would 
amply  have  protected  us  from  wild  beasts,  but 
then  it  would  have  attracted  the  Arabs,  who  are 
always  scouring  the  desert  in  search  of  plunder. 
Of  the  two  we  preferred  to  run  the  risk  of  the 
wild  animals. 

"  Early  next  morning,  with  only  a  few  pieces 
of  sugar-cane  for  breakfast,  we  started  to  push 
along  through  the 
shifting  sands.  It 
was  terrible  work 
—  something  like 
walking  uphill  on 
ice.  We  slipped 
back  continually 
on  the  sand,  and  it 
seemed  as  if  we 
could  never  make 
progress.  On  all 
sides  of  us  stretched 
the  monotonous 
red -grey  plain.  It 
became  madden- 
ing, too,  to  be 
always  in  the  centre 
of  the  picture.  No 
matter  ho w  w e 
struggled  on,  the 
sand  still  stretched 
the  same  distance 
in  front,  the  same 
behind,  and  the 
same  on  both  sides. 

Vol.   ^.-11, 


"  Suddenly,  like  specks,  we  saw  four  mounted 
men  rising  against  the  sky  in  front  of  us.  They 
saw  us  about  the  same  time,  and  opened  out  as 
they  drew  near.  We  soon  saw  that  they  were 
Arabs  on  camels.  We  did  not  fear  them 
exactly,  but  their  movements  made  us  suspicious, 
and  so  we  waited  for  them  to  come  on. 

"  Suddenly,  when  within  a  hundred  yards  of 
us,  one  of  them  sli[)ped  off  his  camel  on  the  far 
side  and  almost  simultaneously  a  bullet  threw 
up  a  cloud  of  sand  right  at  my  feet.  The  fellow 
had  fired  from  under  the  camel's  body.  It  was 
to  be  a  fight,  then  I 

"  After  this  they  all  began  firing.  We 
crouched  behind  the  bicycle,  and  many  shots 
struck  the  frame  and  iron  shield.  Presently  we 
were  firing  back.  Our  long-barrelled  revolvers 
carried  well  up  to  sixty  yards,  and  by  this  time  the 
Arabs  were  drawing  closer  and  closer.  Soon  one 
of  the  fellows  fell,  and  at  the  same  moment  I 
was  shot  in  the  leg.  Jim  (my  husband)  stood 
stiaight  up  and  fired  twice  again,  and  another 
Arab  drop;)ed. 

"  This  fellow  was  in  the  rear,  and  the  minute 
he  was  hit  he  threw  up  his  arms  and  cried  out : 
'Allah  il  Allah,'  and  something  more  in  Arabic. 
Jim  told  me  that  what  he  said  was  his  death- 
cry  :  '  There  is  no  Ood  but  Allah,  and  Mahomet 
is  his  Prophet— Allah  receive  me  ! ' 

"  The  other  two  men  ran  back  to  their 
wounded  comrades.  They  were  all  on  foot  by 
this  time,  and  the  camels,  frightened  by  the 
shots,  gradually  wandered  off.  As  my  husband 
kept  on  firing  the  two  fellows  abandoned  thi  ir 


IV    HUSIIAMl    KllflT    1III';    KOl-l.-    TAMKI-^ 


S2 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZLNE. 


comrades  and  went  running  off  in  the  direction 
from  which  they  had  come,  and  we  were  left 
alone  with  the  two  wounded  Arabs,  one  of 
whom  died  within  a  few  minutes.  The  two 
Bedouins  who  had  fled  kept  hovering  round  us 
about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away.  They  were 
evidently  afraid  to  come  back  for  their  camels. 
Knowing  that  with- 
out them  they  could 
not  ndc  away  and 
bring  more  of  their 
tribe,  my  husband 
shot  the  lour  camels. 
After  this  final  blow 
the  discomfited 
marauders  ran  away, 
and  we  r-iw  no  more 
of  them. 

"  My  iiusuaiui 
dressed  my  wound 
as  well  as  he  could, 
but  the  pain  grew 
awful.  He  dragged 
me  for  nearly  half 
a  mile  in  the  hope 
of  finding  shelter, 
but  finally  had  to 
lay  me  down  on 
the  hot  sand.  We 
Were  without  water 
and  without  help. 

'•  All  day  long  I 
lay  on  my  Imck  on 
the  burning  sand, 
sometimes  fainting 
with  pain,  while 
poor    Jim    kept 

ring  round  anxiously  scanning  the  horizon 


c 

I 

t> 


'"'''-on.     Jim  covered  me  with  the 

1  a  bank  of  sand  fcjr  my  head, 

sat  down  to  watch  the  night  through. 

•  vcr  forget  the  way  the  stars  came  out 

'.     I  lay  staring  straight  up  at  them, 

ihcm  take  their  places  one  by  one.     I 

•re  what  silence  was.     Notliing 

:   but  Jim's   breathing  and   my 

ivc  been  delirious,  for  I   found 

r  the  stars  twinkle!     It 

'     lid  do  so. 

■I,  and  at  last  dawn 


came.  The  first  thing  we  saw  in  tlie  morning 
was  a  single  camel-rider  coming  straight  towards 
us.  Jim  put  the  tand2m  in  front  of  where  I 
lay  and  leaned  over  me  with  his  revolver,  so  as 
to  be  ready  for  the  new-comer  should  he  prove  a 
foe.  The  stranger  appeared  astonished  when 
he  saw  the  four  dead  camels  and  the  body  of 

one  of  the  Arabs  in 
the  distance  —  the 
other  liad  dis- 
appeared in  the 
night — and  he  cried 
out  in  good  English: 
'Halloa!  What's 
the  matter  there  ?' 

"  How  good  those 
English  words 
sounded  !  He  was 
an  Arab  chief,  a 
caravan  leader,  and 
was  going  from 
Angora  to  Konia. 
He  turned  back  at 
once  when  he  knew 
what  had  happened, 
and  promised  to 
send  a  driver  and 
camels  from  Angora, 
for  us.  We  waited 
all  that  day,  and  at 
night  were  relieved 
by  the  arrival  of  the 
trans[)ort. 

"  A  native  doctor 
attended  to  my 
wounds  in  Angora, 
and  the  European 
residents  sent  us  over  the  desert  to  the  Gulf  of 
Alexandretta,  where  we  took  steamer  for  Alex- 
andria. I  was  a  month  in  an  hospital  in 
Alexandria  ;  but  on  leaving  for  Cairo  my  wound 
broke  out  afresh,  and  I  had  to  lie  u[)  there  for 
nearly  six  monlhs." 

Subsequently  the  plucky  pair  abandoned  their 
attempt  to  circle  the  globe,  and  returned  home, 
where  Mrs.  Hetzel  underwent  treatment  at  the 
German  Hospital,  Philadelphia,  for  the  effects 
of  the  wound  she  received  at  the  hands  of  the 
Arabs  in  the  desert.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  she 
will  never  forget  her  curious  honeymoon  and 
the  adventures  it  brought  her. 


><l     ..    U  !■:    SAW    IN     IHli    MliUNING    WAS    A    SlNCil.K    CA.MliL- 
KlUbK-    COMING   STKAIGHT   TOWAKDS   US." 


Salmon-Catching  on  the  Fraser  River. 

l>v  'l'nu>.   L.  Jakrett. 

A  description  of  the  wonderful   Fraser  River  salmon  industry,  illustrated  with  a  set  of  most  impressive 

photographs.     Salmon   are  so  plentiful   in  the   Fraser  at    spawning  time  that  they   are  literally   crowded 

out  of  the  water  in  hundreds,  and  can  be  shovelled  up  with  a  spade  ! 


T  was  about  two  years  ago,  almost  at 
the  end  of  our  3,000  miles  long 
journey  across  Canada,  that  we 
stood  in  the  C.P. R.  observation  car 
watching  the  wonderful  succession 
of  enormous  mountains  past  which  we  were 
whirling. 

From  time  to  time  the  train  stopped  for  water 
or  fuel  at  tiny  stations  which  seemed  to  be  lost 
in  the  wilderness  of  hills  surrounding  them. 

At  one  of  these  little  "  section  shanties,"  as 
they  are  called,  we  got  out  for  a  moment  to 
stretch  our  legs  after  our  three  days'  confine- 
ment by  walking  for  a  few  yards  along  the  track 
to  where  it  crossed  a  stream.  Suddenly  one  of 
us  noticed  several  huge  fish  lying  in  the  pool 
beneath.  They  were  shaped  like  salmon,  but 
coloured  more  brilliantly  in  red,  scarlet,  and 
purple.  We  could  see,  too,  that  fins  and  bits  of 
tails,  noses,  and  sometimes  even  the  whole 
of  the  jaw,  were  missing  from  these  extraordinary 
fish.  Wondering  what  they  could  be  we  hurried 
to  a  Canadian  friend,  who  had  more  than  once 
helped  us  out  of  difficulties,  and  asked  him  for 
information. 

He  told  us  that  they  were  indeed  salmon — • 
salmon  that  had  been  badly  battered  in  their 
long  journey  against  the  stream  from  the  sea. 

He  hardly  expected  us  to  believe  him,  he 
added,  plaintively — strangers  never  did. 

"There  are  not  as  many  salmon  as  there  once 
were,"  he  said,  "  though  if  one  cares  to  go  up 
the  smaller  streams  at  the  head  of  any  of  the 
British  Columbian  rivers,  one  can  see  hundreds 
of  salmon  lying  dead  and  dying  on  the  banks, 
literally  i)ushed  out  of  the  water  by  the  multitude 
of  their  hurrying  fellows." 

Even  now,  he  told  us,  the  settlers  on  the 
upper  reaches  of  the  Fraser  at  times  use  neither 
net  nor  hook  to  take  their  winter  supply  of  fish, 
but  stand  in  a  shallow  reach  with  a  hay-fork  and 
simply  shovel  the  fish  ashore.  Indeed,  I  have 
since  heard  of  a  f;irmer  living  not  very  far  from 
Victoria,  who  once  took  two  waggon-loads  of 
salmon  in  this  way  in  a  single  afternoon. 


Our  friend  further  told  us  of  the  "  candle- 
fish  "  or  "oolachan,"  which  the  Indians  catch 
with  a  rake.  Passing  its  sharp-toothed  edge 
rapidly  through  a  "school  "  they  knock  off  the 
impaled  fish  into  their  canoes  with  a  dexterous 
tap  of  the  rake-handle  on  the  gunwale.  These 
fish,  almost  as  large  as  herrings  and  of  much 
the  same  shape,  are  so  oily  that  in  the  winter, 
when  an  artificial  light  is  required,  it  is  only 
necessary  to  stick  the  head  of  a  dried  "  candle- 
fish  "  into  a  lump  of  clay  and  light  his  tail : 

We  soon  felt  a  keen  desire  to  see  for  our- 
selves some  of  these  wonderful  things,  so  we 
left  the  train  next  morning  at  Harrisson,  a 
health  resort  on  the  Pacific  slope  boasting  most 
excellent  hot  sulphur  springs. 

Here  we  stayed  for  nearly  a  week,  and  during 
that  time,  beside  catching  some  beautiful  trout 
for  ourselves,  saw  the  salmon  just  as  they  had 
been  described  to  us  "  running"  up  the  river  in 
countless  thousands,  maimed  and  bruised  from 
constant  knocking  against  one  another. 

The  banks  of  the  stream  were  so  covered 
with  decaying  fish  that  the  neighbourhood  was 
most  unpleasant.  The  Indians,  however, 
seemed  to  mind  neither  the  smell  nor  the 
battered  state  of  the  salmon,  but  quietly  poled 
their  canoes  along  the  edges  of  the  stream, 
scooping  in  fish  alter  fish  with  a  sort  of  short 
gaff.  This  was  their  harvest  time,  and  in  dozens 
of  places  one  saw  their  j)rimitive  smokehouses 
for  kippering  the  salmon.  The  "dressed"  fish 
were  placed  above  fires  so  that  both  sun  and 
pine-bark  smoke  migiit  act  on  them  at  the  same 
time.  The  bright  scarlet  of  iluir  flesh,  some- 
times half  wreathed  in  pale  blue  smoke,  lent  a 
most  pleasing  touch  of  colour  to  the  uniform 
dark  green  of  the  interminable  fir  fon-st. 

Leaving  Harrisson,  we  went  on  towards  the 
coast.  For  the  last  hn I f-hour  before  pulling  into 
Vancouver  -the  Pacific  Coast  terminus  of  the 
Canadian  Pacific  Railway— the  train  follows  the 
shore  of  I'.urrard  Inlet,  an  arm  of  the  sea  on 
which  the  town  is  situated.  The  inlet  stretches 
for  miles,  fjord-like,  between  the   mountains — 


84 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


hills   they   call    them   here  —  and   so   forms   a 
wonderful  natural  harbour. 

When  we  first  caught  sight  of  the  water  we 

t,    '  '  '  -  "    nient  scarcely  believe  our  eyes. 

1,  ,.s,  near  at  hand  and  far  off  in 

the  distance  at  the  other  side  of  the  inlet,  it 
J,,  •        "  ■     '    mis  of  huge,  leaping,  silvery 

j^ __   ^  __      ^  over  it:  hundreds  of  fisli 

were-  in  the  air  at  once  !     Still  the  train  sped 


did  not  more  strongly  press  her  claims  to  the 
far-reaching  territory  now  forming  the  States  of 
Washington  and  Oregon. 

There  are  many  in  British  Columbia  who 
firmly  believe  that  by  priority  of  occupation 
through  fur-trading  posts  and  exploration  the 
whole  of  the  Pacific  coast  as  far  south  as  the 
Columbia  River  should  be  British.  The  English 
Commissioners  are  supposed  to  have  been  so 


i-t*mt  #  t  n 


I     ■.  .      illl.     I  KAsKK    U1\1-.K    AT   TIIK    SIAWNING    SEASON. 
SWIMMI.SU   UP   STKEAM    IN    COUNTLESS   NUMBERS. 


..M.MON'     Will.    BK    SM   N 

[Eciivnrds  Ptothtrs. 


Icavinf^  mile  after  mile  behind,  and  still 

•  ti  there  were  *'  schools  "  of 

•    '     •   'Ml'  wondered   how 

lie   yearly  to   lay 

in  the  muddy  l-raser. 

'it  of  so  many  rising  fish 

■    f'f  our  flies  and  rods, 

1  from  t  ircd  porter,  who  on 

ritable  I'ooh-liah 

>uld  find  a  guide 

to  be  told  that 

ui  Nerka)-  \\\^  par- 

•  jumping 

l.ikc  .my 

'Hiiinonly 

Kiiiil.iiid 


disgusted  at  the  thought  of  rivers  filled  with 
countless  salmon  not  one  of  which  would  rise 
to  a  fly,  that  they  decided  such  a  weird  country 
could  not  be  worth  retaining!  For  a  moniunt, 
in  our  chagrin,  we  could  almost  imagine  them 
justified. 

However,  there  is  another  variety  of  salmon, 
the  "cohoe"  {Onorhynclius  KisuicJi),  which,  as 
well  as  the  "hump-backed  salmon"  {Onorhyn- 
chus  Gor/>usai),  takes  the  "  spinner  "  very  well 
indeed  and  gives  an  excellent  fight  when 
hooked. 

After  a  day  or  two  in  Vancouver  we  were 
asked  if  we  should  care  to  drive  to  the  mouth 
of  the  I'Vaser  River,  eighteen  miles  away,  to 
see  the  salmon  canneries.  Nothing  loth,  we 
accepted,    so    next    morning  we    set    out  on   a 


SAl.MUX-CAiLlllNc.     UN     lilK     1-R.\SLR     KIVKR. 


"buck  board  "  drawn  by  two  loi)ing  "  cayuses  " 
or  Indian  ponies.  Almost  ininicdiately  after 
leaving  Vancouver's  deal  -  paved  streets  we 
entered  the  bush  and  drove  for  some  distance 
along  u  road  flanked  by  giant  cedars  and  firs, 
towering  on  either  side  to  often  fully  300ft. 
above  us.  One  tree  which  we  measured  had  a 
diameter  at  its  base  of  over  loft. 

The  Fraser  River  empties  its  very  muddy 
waters  into  the  (lulf  of  Georgia — after  passmg 
through  a  large  delta  of  its  own  formation — by 
two  main  branches,  a  north  and  a  south  arm. 

Crossing  the  north  arm  by  a  newly-built 
bridge,  and  leaving  our  horses   at  a  farmhouse, 


glittering    mass,  over  which  clear  spring  water, 
pumped  through  pipes  laid  under  the  river  fr 
a  spring  on  the  mainland  over  a  mile  away, 
constantly  sprayed. 

One  beauty,  pulled  from  tlie  mass  ot  11.1 
fellows  for  our  inspection,  turned  the  scales  at 
just  yolb.  Sometimes,  however,  fish  are  caught 
weighing  even  a  score  of  pounds  more  than  this. 

These  huge  fellows  belong  to  quite  a  different 
species  of  salmon  {Onorhync/tus  Tschawytscha). 
Sometimes  they  can  be  templed  with  a  sjx)0n 
or,  rarely,  with  a  f^y.  In  the  museum  at 
Victoria  one  is  preserved,  weighing  721b.,  which 
was  taken  m  the  Campbell  River  on  \'ancouver 


A    sCli.NE   Af    nili   CANNIiHV-    UlliKli   AKIi    100,030   SALMON    IN     llll>    -HI  i 

From  a  Photo.  l>y  Ediva>ds  Brothers. 


we  took  a  boat  to  the  Richmond  Cannery, 
prettily  situated  on  an  island  in  mid-stream. 
Introducing  ourselves  to  the  foreman,  W(i  asked 
to  be  shown  over  his  cannery,  and  were  told 
tliat  we  were  just  in  time,  as  work  was  about  to 
be  commenced  on  the  fish  caught  on  the 
previous  afternoon. 

In  the   meantime  we   were  taken   to   see  the 
salmon  as  they  lay  on  the  wharf    -a  monstrous, 


Island  wiih  a  rod  and  line.  These  fish  arc- 
locally  called  either  "spring  salmon,"  since  ihcy 
are  the  first  each  season  to  appear  in  i'  i. 

or    by    their   Indian    name   "i'vli..,"  g 

chief  salmon. 

We    moved    on    from    these   piles   ul    Ircsiily 
caught  fish  to  tables  where  double   rows  of  dcx 
terous  workmen  rapidly  removed  head,  tail,  fins, 
and  entrails  from  the  salmon  laid  out  ready  for 


86 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


them,   completing    the    whole  task  with  eight 
'<  cuts  and  a   scrape   from  a  keen-edged 
kiiiic. 

Almost  more  quickly  than  we  could  follow, 
the  fish  were  passed  from  workers  who  removed 
the  scales  to  women,  who  with  coarse  brushes 
and  brine  cleaned  away  the  last  traces  of  scales 
and  blood.  Still  hurrying  on  we  went  from  a 
machine  which  was  cutting  the  salmon  into 
proper  lengths  to  benches  where  women  filled 
tins,  in  which  a  little  salt  had  already  been  put, 
with  e.>cactly  a  pound  of  fish. 

These  tins  were  then  fed,  si.\  at  a  time,  to  a 
second  machine  which  first  put  on  their  top.s, 
and   then  with  coarse   brushes  and   steam  jets 
ily  cleansed  them.     From  this  machine 
vcred  tins  were  taken  by  an  endless 
1  a  weighing  machine,  which  auto- 
matically rejected  light  tins,  to  another,  where 
t'  ■<:  firmly  soldered  on. 

:c  they  went  to  huge  steam  retorts 

and  cauldrons  of  boiling  water,  where  they  were 
•  )r  varying  lengths  of  time.    The  cooking 
■  .,  the  tins  were  washed  in  lye  so  as  to 
\c   any  last   trace   of  grease,    and   finally 
id   out   to    cool   in   the   huge    iron   trays 
held  them  since  they  left  the  solder- 
Some  weeks  later,  when  the  fish 
ceased  "running"  u[)  the  river,  these  tins 
icred, covered — also  by  machinery — 
<-  '-ss  attractive  labels,  and  shipped 
around  Cape  Horn  to  England, 
'-•  most  of  the  salmon  packed  on  the  Eraser 
ed.     Each  tin,  the  foreman  told 
no   fewer   than   ten  times  before 


being  sent  out,  so  that  he  considered  it  almost 
impossible  for  a  bad  tin  to  leave  the  factory. 

From  the  Richmond  Cannery  we  drove  on 
several  miles  farther  to  the  south  arm,  where 
most  of  the  larger  canneries  are  situated, 
almost  at  the  river's  mouth. 

Surrounding  the  canneries  is  Steveston,  one 
of  the  most  extraordinary  "fishing  villages" 
imaginable,  possessing,  for  six  weeks  during  the 
summer,  about  5,000  inhabitants  of  all  races 
and  creeds.  During  the  rest  of  the  year,  save 
for  a  few  watchmen  and  a  storekeeper  or  two, 
the  place  is  utterly  deserted.  Indians,  Chinese, 
Portuguese,  Greeks,  and  French,  besides  English- 
speaking  races,  are  all  here,  attracted  by  the 
high  wages  which  a  good  fisherman  or  workman 
is  able  to  make  while  the  "run  "  lasts.  Some  of 
these  men — carpenters,  farmers,  or  labourers  at 
ordinary  times — will  return  to  their  homes  after 
barely  two  months'  work  with  6oodols.  in  their 
pockets.  Fishermen  are  paid  prices  varying 
with  the  demand,  from  three  to  as  high  as  twenty 
cents  a  fish.  Sometimes  a  single  boat  will 
take  as  many  as  500  fish  in  a  night,  so  that 
it  is  easily  understood  why  artisans  leave  their 
benches  and  farmers  their  ranches  to  become 
salmon  fishermen. 

Once  a  week  for  twenty  four  hours — from  six 
on  Saturday  to  six  on  Sunday  evening — all  fish- 
ing on  the  river  is  forbidden  by  Government 
regulation.  This  is  a  "close  season"  intended 
to  give  a  few  fish  an  opportunity  of  getting  up 
the  river  to  the  spawning  beds. 

It  was  a  little  after  five  when  we  reached 
Steveston,  so  that  one  of  the  most  beautifully 


!f.     I  I.' A'.  I'M     IIIVHV     HSIIIM.     Ml 

/■rom  a  i'hoto. 


SALMON-CATCHIXc;    ON     IHK 


I'RASER 


RIVKI 


8: 


llllS    |-lll)TOi,K.M'll    SHOWS    THE    V-SII  Al'Kl)    WfNXiS    WHICH    I.KAU 

From  a  l^hoto.  by\  towards  the  cenikal  tkai' 

picturesque  scenes  imaginable  at  once  presented 
itself  to  us.  Every  fishing-boat  on  the  river  had 
left  its  moorings,  and  was  sailing  down  the 
turbid  river  towards  a  crimson  sea  and  sun. 
The  latter,  veiled  by  the  smoke  of  forest  fires, 
was  sinking  like  a  huge  ball  of  heated  copper 
behind  far-distant  hills.  On  every  side  sail 
succeeded  sail  as 
far  as  the  eye 
could  see,  be- 
coming smaller 
and  smaller  in 
the  distance  until 
they  became 
specks  and,  at 
last,  disa[)peared 
altogether.  Every 
boat  carries  two 
fishermen,  and 
about  300  yards 
of  gill  netting 
15ft.  in  depth, 
furnished  with 
floats  and  sink- 
ers, so  that  when 
s  i  X  o'c  lock 
strikes  on  Sun- 
day night  the 
waters,  a  moment 
before  unob- 
structed, become 
barred  against 
any  belated  fish 
by  about  two 
thousand  huge 
floating  fences. 
The      illustra- 


tions give  but  a 
faint  idea  of  the 
number  of  boats 
employed  in  the 
industry  and  of 
the  closeness  of 
the  barrier  of 
nets  which  they 
place  across  the 
river. 

Naturall;, 
nets  often  get 
tangled.  A  fisher- 
man, hauling  in 
his  net  at  night, 
will  find  that  an- 
other boat  has 
accidentally,  in 
the  dark,  thrown 
out  its  net  across 
his.  To  d  i  s - 
engage  them  is 
impossible,  so  he  quietly  cuts  his  neighbour's 
net  in  half,  hastily  takes  in  the  remainder  of  his 
own,  and  leaves  for  other  fishing-grounds  before 
his  competitor,  in  overhauling  his  net,  finds  that 
half  of  it — or  perhaps  more — has  been  cut  off 
and  allowed  to  drift  away. 

The  methods  employed  in  the  clear  salt  water 


\\\\L    "  SCHOOLS   '    UK    SAl,Mii\    I'. 

[Eciwaras  Brolhers. 


88 


'IHK    WIDE    WORLD    iMAOAZINE. 


of  the  American  fishing-grounds  some  miles  to 
the  south  of  the  Eraser,  where  gill  nets  are 
impracticable  since  the  salmon  would  see  and 
avoid  them,  are  quite  different. 

\  school"  of  salmon  can  see  and  will  follow 
an  uu-tacle  in  the  water  until  a  way  round  it  is 
lound.  Traps  built  on  the  principle  of  the  old- 
fashioned  beehive  rat-trap,  and  made  of  nets 
hunii  on  •  is  piles,  are  therefore  erected 

^t  wherever  the  bottom  is  suit- 


ill    .I'l  in 


A\'hen  fish  for  the  day's  work  are  wanted  at 
the  factory  a  large  flat-bottomed  scow  is  brought 
into  the  pound.  Then  the  edges  of  the  purse- 
like net  are  gradually  pulled  up  until  the, 
perhaps,  thousands  of  salmon  it  contains  are 
crowded  together  into  a  few  cubic  yards  of 
foaming  water  and  struggling  fish. 

When  the  fish  have  been  brought  close  to 
the  surface  a  huge  dip  net,  pivoted  to  the  side 
of  the  scow  and  worked  by  three  men,  is  lowered 


l-.l       11     llKl.\(.->   Of  1    HVKN  I  V   OK    ■IHIKTY    SALMON    AT    KACH    SCOOI'. 

From  a  Photo,  by  Thompson, 


A 


fairly 


Itiati 

i. .  I 


v    all 


'  viierience   shows   that   the    fish  are 

on  their  way  to  the  Eraser.     Long 

in  a  V-shaped  formdtion,   stretch 

■■'    '-^tn  ihc  centre  of  the  trap  so 

lling  "school  "  in   towards 

opening,  which  will  take  them 

A  -a  circular,  purse-shajjed 

I"  re  they  find  themselves 

s  a  trap,  like  this  will 

ii  its  owners  are  forced  to 

•    since   they   could    not 

I    heard    a    cannery 

i:  enormous  "  school  "  which 

way    into     a     large    trap    at 


'I     1  I'l 


into  the  splashing  and  struggling  mass,  and  so 
ladles  out  at  each  scoop  a  dozen  or  two  silvery 
beauties  to  flap  out  their  lives  on  the  bare 
gratings  in  the  boat's  hold. 

Obviously,  although  the  initial  cost  is  no 
doubt  a  large  one,  such  a  method  of  taking  fish 
is  in  the  end  a  far  cheajx-r  one  than  that  in 
vogue  on  the  Eraser  River.  So  true  is  this 
that,  when  the  traps  have  fish  to  spare. 
Eraser  River  Cannery  men  are  able  to  purchase 
them  at  the  traps  in  the  United  States  waters, 
pay  duty  and  freight  on  them,  and  yet  deliver 
them  at  their  factory  wharves  more  cheaply  than 
they  can  be  caught  with  gill  nets  a  hundred 
yards  away. 


"^m  '^ . 


^. 


riy  VISIT    TO    THE 

HOWLirSG    DERVI5HE5. 

Bv   y.  E.   Pattkrson. 


t;v 


Whilst  in  Constantinople  the  author  conceived  an  irresistible  desire  to 
witness  the  devotions  of  the  curious  sect  known  as  the  "Howling  Dervishes." 
To  this  end  he  climbed  upon  the  roof  of  their  mosque,  which  gave  way, 
precipitating  him  into  the  midst  of  the  fanatical  Dervishes.  How  he  escaped 
and  what  happened  afterwards  are  told    in  this  narrative. 


T  the  time  of  the  escapade  here 
described  an  accident  had  located 
me  in  Constantinople  Hospital.  I 
was  then  young  in  years  and  a  sort 
of  hobbledehoy  in  worldly  know- 
ledge. Yet  years  of  "  roughing  it  "  at  sea  had 
in  no  wise  dulled  a  natural  and  keen  spirit 
of  inquiry  into  material  matters,  variously 
described  by  my  shipmates  as  "  curiosity  "  and 
"meddling."  However,  I  was  an  English  lad- 
abroad  and  wanted  to  know  things — and.  by 
the  knowing,  there  often  came  grief.  My 
unrehearsed  visit  to  the  Howling  Dervishes  was  a 
case  in  point. 

Within  a  stone's  throw  of  the  hospital  windows 
stood  a  small  mosque,  which  had  apparently 
once  been  a  stable  or  other  similar  building. 
At  its  eastern  corner  was  a  mainmast -like 
minaret,  that  would  have  made  any  but  the 
Prophet's  most  devout  of  followers  afraid  to 
ascend,  lest  his  weight  should  bring  it  down  in 
a  heap.  On  each  succeeding  P>iday  the  rant- 
ing fanatics  who  frequented  this  place  made 
things  hideous  with  a  peculiarly  piercing  and 
dismal  chant.  Their  droning  annoyed  me  ;  I 
began  to  cogitate  how  I  could  permanently 
adjourn  that  nerve  -  ruining  concert.  But  the 
approach  to  their  temple  was,  to  me  and  all 
whom  I  then  knew,  a  mystery.  It  was  situated 
in  the  midst  of  a  labyrinth  of  ramsliackle  out- 
buildings and  paltry  hovels  of  houses.  An 
oblique  lane,  an  8ft.  blank  wall,  and  half-a-dozen 
low,  rambling  roofs  separated  the  mosque  from 
the  next  building  to  the  hospital. 

My  first  reappearance  in  the  outer  world 
after  my  convalescence  happened  on  a  Thurs- 
day, the  occasion  being  a  visit  to  the  Consul's 
office  to  report  my  return  to  a  condition  of  sea- 
worthiness. ^^'hilst  out  I  devoted  some  atten- 
tion to  the  exact  toi)ogra[)hy  of  the  mos(]ue  of 
those  offending  Howlers.  Baflled  in  my  attempt 
to  find  an  easy  means  of  access  to  the  mosque, 

Vol.  X.-I2. 


and  much  exasperated  thereat,  I  returned  to  the 
hospital. 

But  the  Dervishes  were  too  much  of  an  annoy- 
ance to  me  to  be  readily  forgotten.  Moreover,  I 
had  now  become  possessed  of  a  most  disturbing 
desire  to  see  them  at  devotions.  Surely  a  sect 
which  could  howl  so  long  and  dismally  must 
have  some  most  curious  and  remarkable  rites  I 

After  as  careful  a  survey  of  the  enemy's 
position  as  circumstances  allowed  I  contrived  to 
arrange  so  that  my  next  excursion  fell  on  the 
following  Moslem  sabbath.  My  besetting  sin 
of  curiosity  was  strong  upon  me  ;  on  that  day  I 
think  it  would  have  driven  me  to  dare  the 
terrors  of  silken  strangling  cords,  weighted 
sacks,  secret  culverts,  and  all  the  mythical 
terrors  of  the  East. 

A  second  outdoor  reconnaissance  clinched  a 
previous  idea  that  the  most  direct  way  to  my 
objective  lay  (n'er  the  intervening  roofs.  A 
glance  right  and  left  showed  me  a  clear  lane. 
I  made  a  rush  across  the  alley  and  S[)rang  at 
the  wall.  Securing  a  hold,  I  drew  myself  to 
the  top  of  the  first  barrier.  On  my  offended 
hearing  came  the  war-note  of  the  enemy  —  a 
wailing  howl,  such  as  would  surely  set  on  edge 
even  the  teeth  of  a  deaf  man.  Before  me  was 
the  goal  of  my  curiosity,  with  the  dirty  white 
little  minaret  as  a  landmark,  a  huge  note  of 
exclamation  on  its  people's  outrage  "f  nili,  r 
folk's  artistic  feelings. 

Over  the  low  ridge  of  the  first  hovel  1  went 
on  hands  and  knees,  it  having  been  built  within 
easy  reach  of  the  wall.  Between  it  and  the 
next  house,  however,  was  a  gap  on  which  I  had 
not  reckoned.  To  leap  the  distance  would  not 
have  required-  much  uncommon  agility,  but  I 
did  not  know  who  was  underneath  to  hear  the 
racket  of  my  English  shoes  on  those  old 
Eastern  tiles.  \\"\l\\  means  and  force  so  limited 
I  could  not  afforti  to  court  encounters  which 
might  bar  the  way  to  that  mysterious  mosque. 


9° 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


A  quick  survey  showed  nie  some  narrow- 
boards  standing  on  end  against  a  building 
opposite,  about  loft.  to  my  right.  Soon  I  was 
squatting  directly  in  front  of  them,  trying  to 
throw  the  bight  of  a  piece  of  string  over  the 
cud  of  the  outer  board.  Patient  efifort  was 
ultimately  rewarded.  \\'ith  two  of  the  boards 
— little  more  than  battens — placed  across  that 
I  oft.  deep  gulf  I  essayed  the 
crossing,  using  one  board 
lor  each  hand  and 
knee.  When  about 
half  over  I  heard  a 
footstep  beneath. 
A  bound  followed, 
and  fingers  were 
fastened  convul- 
sively on  my  left 
shoe,  'f'  ■  -k  they 
gave.  ^  d  me, 
but  in  such  wise 
that  in  coming 
down  and  swing- 
ing towards  their 
interfering  owner 
my  right  foot 
struck  him  fairly 
under  his  chin, 
sending  him  to 
earth  and  allowing 
ujc  to  sway  in  the 
op|)osite  direction. 
A  natural  monkey- 
likc  cleftness  — 
<l  I  by  many 

^t  aloft    in 

g'  iud  — had 

enabled  me  to  re- 
tain a  hold  on  one 
board,  so  that  by 
the  time  my  an- 
tagonist was  on  his 
feet  I  had  swung 
my.self  up  again, 
had  gained  the 
opposite  side  of  the  alley,  and  was  standing  at 
bay  with  otJe  of  my  boards  as  a  weapon. 

The  man— he  was  apparently  u  (Ireek— first 
"'  '-'•-•'y  up  at  me   and    then    smiled 

''  .■  ■    ''I't  lli«-- <hange  was  too  abrujjt  to 

oiilhlul  confidence. 

imie,"  he  said,  with  the  .softness  of 
'    Wet  grass;  "you  come 
-,  r,''('d  lor  you." 

"  \  land  It  up."  was  my  laconic  answer.   "  What 
be  bad  down  there." 
•  uu  come." 


MV   Kli;iir    KOOT  STRUCK    HIM 
KAIKl.V    U.SUEK    HIS  CHI.N." 


IV 


e.s, 


said  I. 


if  I  come   I  shall  see,  and   feel   too, 


The  (ireek  was  evidently  at  a  loss  how  to 
proceed  with  his  attempt  at  diplomacy.  After 
glancing  at  me  several  times  and  then  about 
him  in  all  directions,  he  answered,  "  Look,  I 
show  you,"  and  entered  the  hovel  over  which  I 
had  passed.  Quick  as  the  thought  that  he  had 
probably  gone  for  some  weapon  to  shoot  me 
with,  I  turned  and  slipped  over  the  ridge  of  the 
roof  I  was  on.  When  he 
reappeared  I  was  safely 
housed  behind  a 
ch  i  mney- stack 
watching  him.  To 
judge  by  his  man- 
ner he  was  greatly 
puzzled  to  know 
what  had  become 
of  me.  He  darted 
about,  now  in  my 
sight,  then  out  of 
it.  He  had  some- 
thing in  his  hand 
that  looked  very 
like  a  silver  bowl, 
and  all  his  move- 
ments were  curi- 
ously stealthy. 
Some  vague  in- 
stinct set  me  won- 
dering whether  I 
had  not  chanced 
upon  an  adventure 
of  more  import- 
ance than  even  a 
stolen  view  of  the 
Howling  Dervishes 
at  worship.  A\'hat 
^v  as  this  m  a  n , 
fairly  well-dressed, 
doing  amongst 
those  tumble-down 
hovels  with  a  large 
silver  article 
openly  in  his  pos- 
session ?  If  he  is 
here  by  right,  I  thought,  why  does  he  not  fetch 
me  down  at  once  instead  of  being  so  quiet  and 
mysterious  ? 

However,  he  soon  afterwards  disappeared  into 
the  hovel.  I  waited  and  watched  long  for  his 
return  ;  but  he  came  not.  The  intermittent 
howling  in  my  rear  repeatedly  called  me  to  my 
primary  object.  It  at  length  became  so  in- 
sistent that  it  seemed  to  contain  a  sort  of 
upbraiding  for  my  neglect.  Unable  further  to 
withstand  the  call,  and  having  lost  interest  in 
my  assailant,  I  turned  again  to  that  which  had 
drawn  me  from  the  bald  path  of  rectitude. 
The  ne.xt  building  I  gained  by  a  careful  stride, 


.M\'   \isir    10    1H1-:   HOWLixc;   i)1-:rvishes. 


91 


and  so  I  went  on  to  the  one  touching  the 
mosque.  Now  the  object  of  my  desire  seemed 
within  easy  reach.  Aly  purpose  was  to  get 
over  the  mosque  into  a  small  space  beyond,  on  to 
which  (the  Armenian  porter  of  the  hospital  had 
assured  me)  there  must  be  windows  opening, 
through  one  of  which  I  could  gain  a  view  of 
the  interior  of  the  mosque.  How  I  should  get 
back  from  this  point  was  a  problem  which  I  left 
to  the  patron  saint  of  adventurous  curiosity  :  my 
otily  consideration  was  to  reach  the  'vantage 
point.  To  that  end  I  gave  all  thought ;  yet 
with  it  there  was  some  shadowy  intention  of 
exploring  the  inside  of  the  place,  should  luck 
allow  me  an  opportunity  on  the  dispersion  of 
the  congregation,  whose  howls  were  now  pain- 
fully near  me. 

Forward  I  pressed, 
and  careful  to  go 
quietly,  in  mind  of 
what  ears  were  pos- 
sibly under  me.  But 
I  had  reckoned  with- 
out one  probable 
eventuality  —  the 
eyes  which  might  be 
above  me.  That  such 
were  in  evidence 
became  all  too 
apparent  just  as  I 
began  to  crawl  up 
the  thatched  roof  of 
the  mosque,  which 
was  almost  flat. 
Loud  and  clear  on 
the  sleepy,  sunlit  air 
came  three  distinct 
cries  of  alarm,  from 
too  officious,  inter- 
fering busybodies  on 
buildings  which  over- 
topped the  scene  of 
my  thirst  for  know- 
ledge. Of  course, 
my  English  apparel 
openly  informed  on 
me  in  the  vital  mat- 
ter of  religion,  and 
so,  to  the  Moslem 
mind,  betrayed 
criminal  intent.  But 
on  the  point  of 
determination  to 
See  and  learn  all  about  the  Howlers' 
mosque  I  had  burnt  my  boats,  so  to  speak. 
I  had  crossed  the  Rubicon  of  my  purpose, 
and  must  go  forward  at  all  costs.  So  I 
put  on  speed,  meaning  to  get  over  the 
mosque     and       into      the      sheltering      space 


THE    MISERABLE    THATCH    GAVE   WAV 
MIDST   OF   THE    HOW 


beyond   ere   the   troublers  around  drew  others' 
attention  to  me. 

I  got  midway  between  gutter  and  ridge. 
Another  minute  would  have  found  me  out  ol 
sight  of  those  prying  eyes,  whose  owners'  hatred 
of  their  yelling  disturbers  should  have  surely 
<jbtained  me  freedom  of  action.  But  lo  I  with- 
out the  slightest  warning  the  miserable  thatch 
gave  way  and  dropped  me  into  the  very  midst 
of  the  howling  circle  ! 

Their  "  Allah-illa-AUah  "  ceased  abruptly  as 
I  appeared.  Owing  to  the  lowness  of  the  roof 
and  to  a  considerable  portion  of  it  having  fallen 
under  me  my  only  hurt  was  a  shaking  that  in 
no  wise  incommoded  my  movements,  the 
bearings  of  the  case  considered.      There  lingers 

with  me  yet  a  faint 
recollection  of  how 
those  astonished 
Howlers,  sitting 
cross  -  legged  in  a 
circle,  gazed  stupidly 
at  me,  as  though  a 
second  Mahomet 
had  descended  so 
suddenly  —  in  the 
guise  of  a  hated 
Christian  —  as  to 
deprive  them  of  all 
power  cf  speech. 

The  danger  of  the 
situation  sharpened 
my  wits.  I  spied 
an  egress,  leaped  to 
my  feet,  and  made 
for  it.  My  move- 
ment brought  the 
stupefied  Dervishes 
to  their  senses  with 
a  jerk.  Had  I  re- 
mained there  on  the 
broken  thatch  they 
might  have  gaped  at 
me  until  they  fell 
asleep,  such  was 
their  open-mouthed 
wonder  at  my  ap- 
pearance from  the 
sky,  as  they  probably 
supposed. 

B  u  t  now,  e  vi 
dently  fully  awake 
to  the  whole  matter, 
they  came  on,  like  keen  hounds  after  prey ; 
and  as  that  prey  I  moved,  taking  the  pre- 
caution of  banging  the  door  to  as  I  passed  out. 
On  the  outer  sale  of  the  door  there  was  a  key, 
probably  left  thus  when  the  Dervishes  went  to 
worship  ;  and  my  start  was  such  that  I  was  able 


AMI    DKol'IKl)   ME    INTO  THE   VERY 
LING   CIRCLE." 


92 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


to  turn  it  in  its  rusty  lock  ere  the  pursuers  were 
much  more  than  on  their  feet.  Now  came  the 
moment  of  uncertainty.  Whither  should  I  go, 
which  way  turn,  in  that  strange  labyrinth  of 
hovels,  where  one  tortuous  alley  was  as 
dangerous  to  me  as  another?  I  had  gone  with 
a  light  heart  into  the  escapade,  sublimely  regard- 
less of  its  probable  dangers,  and  without  a 
thought  of  its  pnssil)le  results.  \\'hicli  way 
shojld  I  turn? 

Ikfore  me  was  a  small  open  space,  flanked, 
by  another  building  at  a  slight  angle  to  the  one 
at  my  back.  1  glanced  to  the  left,  where  the 
open  ground  extended  a  few  feet  clear  of  the 
end  of  the  mosciue.  Then  to  the  right  went 
my  gaze,  and  I  saw  the  reason  why  those  within 
were  not  clamouring  at  the  door.  They  were 
climbing  through  the  apertures  which  served  as 
windows  I  So  to  the  left  I  rushed,  the  mutter- 
ing of  the  rising  storm  swelling  in  my  ears. 
Around  the  corner  of  the  temple  and  across  its 
end  I  tore,  failing  to  find  the  outlet  for  which  I 
had  hoped.  The  next  corner  was  doubled 
madly.  Then  I  pulled  up  suddenly,  faced  by  a 
wedge-like  trap  formed  by  the  walls  of  the 
mosque  and  its  neighbouring  building  on  that 
side !  I  could  have  howled  even  as  the 
iX-rvishes  did— but  rage,  not  devotion,  would 
have  been  the  reason  of  my  doing  so. 

'Ihe  patter  of  my  pursuers'  feet  could  be 
heard  behind.  I  made  a  leap  at  the  gutter  of 
the  hovel  on  my  right.  It  came  away  in  my 
hand  like  a  piece  of  rotten  matchboard!  In 
wild  impotence  I  flung  myself  at  the  slit  of  an 
0{x;ning  between  the  corners  of  the  two  build- 
ings. Where  at  ordinary  times  I  should  have 
found  myself  too  large  by  one  third,  I  now 
went  through  as  if  greased.  Up  to  the  slit 
came  my  enemies;  but  even  the  thinnest  of 
ihem  could  not  wedge  himself  through.  They 
tried  the  opening  in  turns,  meanwhile  flinging 
at  nje  whatever  could  be  found  to  serve  as  a 
missile,  all  in  the  space  xj(  a  minute. 

That  is  where  I  made  the  one  great  mistake 
"f  During  this  part  of  it  I  should 

^»«'  ' '1  the  opposite  side  of  the  mos(iue 

•Ti  ly-      Uut  1  waited   and  watched   their 

fu(  :ts  to  get  at  me.      My  attention  was 

•  1    to    my    error    by    the    sudden 
•iboul  twenty-live  of  the  Dervishes 
Ironi  I  lion  in  which  I  should  have  gone. 

iiulced  !      On   every   side 

'   'lie.     Out  of  the  .savage 

.  there  now  seemed  no 

on    the    opposite    side    of 

w    u     tall     bamboo    pole 

•vnM.       S(  arcely  was    this 

lo    the  roof  of 

'"    ""■.''  •  in  my  hands. 


How  the  Dervishes  stamped,  evidently  heap- 
ing on  me  all  the  maledictions  known  lo  the 
Turkish  tongue  !  How  they  savagely  hunted  for 
missiles  !  How  they  shook  their  fists  at  me, 
poor,  ill-dressed  ascetics  that  they  were  ! 

Then  they  changed  from  impotent  raging  to 
a  disquieting  action  dictated  by  common  sense. 
I  had  moved  towards  the  ridge  of  the  mosque. 
'Ilicir  only  means  of  getting  at  me  was  to  come 
up  after  me.  Ladders  may  have  existed  in 
that  locality  ;  but  whether  they  did  or  not  my 
pursuers  did  not  seem  to  think  of  them.  My 
first  intimation  of  their  purpose  was  seeing 
two  of  them  stand  side  by  side  at  the  end  of 
the  building,  near  the  minaret,  and  a  third 
clamber  up  their  backs.  The  climber's  hands 
were  on  the  edge  of  the  thatch  when  out  went 
my  pole,  on  which  he  did  not  seem  to  have 
reckoned.  The  end  of  it  landed  squarely  on 
his  chest,  and  he  went  toppling  backwards. 
The  fall,  however,  hurt  others  more  than  him- 
self. He  fell  on  the  heads  of  some  shouters 
behind,  whereat  the  hurly  -  burly  below 
doubled. 

I  now  began  to  think  of  getting  back  by  the 
way  I  had  used  as  an  approach.  But  ere  I 
could  put  the  thought  into  action  my  enemies 
were  clamouring  and  struggling  over  each  other 
at  the  junction  of  the  two  buildings,  thus 
effectively  barring  my  way  ;  for,  as  quickly  as  1 
could  shove  one  down  with  tiie  pole  another 
a[)i)cared  on  the  backs  of  other  supporters. 
Even  if  lucky  with  every  prodding  blow  of  my 
blunt  lance,  I  could  but  keep  up  such  a  defence 
until  they  were  tired,  and  then  escape  back  to 
the  lane.  p]ut  I  had  serious  doubts  whether  I 
could  continue  to  repel  the  boarders.  Two  of 
the  Howlers,  stronger  and  more  agile  than  their 
fellows,  had  made  grabs  at  the  pole,  and  one 
had  come  dangerously  near  wrenching  it  from 
me. 

This  finally  decided  my  course  of  action.  I 
would  put  forth  special  efforts  to  cause  a  break 
in  the  stream  of  assailants,  and  then  take  a  wild 
leap  from  corner  to  corner,  trusting  to  my 
iiiinbleness,  the  i)ole,  and  good  fortune  to  gain 
safety.  Scarcely  was  this  deternn'nalion  made 
when  it  had  to  be  abandoned.  Two  of  the 
enemy  came  up  at  the  same  moment.  Whilst  I 
knt)cked  down  the  nearer  one,  getting  the 
bamboo  home  on  his  jaw,  and  almost  losing  it 
through  the  violent  contact  and  my  own  insecure 
footing,  the  other  tun  jd  aside  in  his  sjjriiig 
and  gained  the  roof  of  he  hovel  over  which  I 
should  have  to  go  back'^-not,  however,  before  I 
had  made  the  end  of  the  pole  thud  on  his  ribs 
as  he  scrambled  up.  I  now  noticed  for  the 
first  time  that  a  very  undesirable  thing  had 
happened  — our    theatre  of  action    had   become 


-MV     \lSir     iU    THE     HOWLING     UKRVISHES. 


93 


HE   WENT   T01'1'LIN(;    BACKWARDS. 


the  object  of  many  eyes  and  tongues  on  the 
high,  flat  roofs  surrounding. 

My  last  blow  was  an  unlucky  one.  It  turned 
the  tide  of  battle,  and  caused  me  to  deem 
discretion  the  better  part  of  valour.  The  long 
reach  necessary  to  make  the  blow  effective 
occa.sioned  a  loss  of  command  over  the  pole. 
Before  I  could  recover  my  former  grip  of  it  and 
my  own  balance,  the  thing  went  clattering  down 
between  the  two  buildings.  \\'ith  a  rush  my 
enemies  were  at  the  juncture  of  the  two  corners, 
reaching  over  each  other  until  six  or  seven 
skinny  arms  were  stretched  out  towards  the 
coveted  prize,  but  no  one  of  them  could  touch 
it  within  some  inches. 

I  gave  a  quick  look  at  the  Dervish  opposite. 
Although  apparently  somewhat  disabled,  he  was 
too  big  for  me,  especially  with  a  crowd  at  my 
heels.  Out  of  the  dilemma  there  was  now  but 
one  way.  Round  I  swung  on  the  instant  and 
over  the  ridge.  I  had  leaped  to  the  ground  on 
the  other  side  and  was  away  before  they  knew 
of  my  action.  Across  the  few  yards  of  open 
space  I  flew,  doubled  a  corner,  and  tore  down 
a  winding  alley,  with  <be  fear  of  death  lending 
speed  to  my  heels.  I'ir  who  would  be  a  whit 
the  wiser  if  these  infuriated  Howlers  overtook 
and  made  an  end  of  me  in  the  surrounding 
Turkish  slums?  I  could  hear  the  pat-pat,  pat- 
pat  of  the  naked  soles  of  my  enemies  on  the 
narrow,  gutter-like  street  behind.   Onwards  I  tore, 


past  the  entrance  to  other  noisome  alleys  which 
were  scarcely  seen  ere  left  behind,  while  the  air 
resounded  with  cries  of  the  pursuers  and  the 
watchers  on  top  of  the  hou.ses  that  bounded  the 
slums.  The  mob  behind  swelled  as  inhabitants 
of  the  quarter  trooped  out  to  ascertain  what  the 
noise  was  about,  but  all  ahead  remained  com- 
paratively quiet. 

Thus  the  mad  race  progressed.  My  bearings 
were  forgotten  ;  I  strove  solely  for  one  end — 
to  keep  out  of  the  enemy's' clutchts.  For  a 
main  thoroughfare  I  could  seek  later  on,  but 
for  the  present  my  efforts  were  devoted  to 
eluding  capture. 

As  matters  were  going  I  should  probably 
have  reached  a  safer  locality  before  ending  the 
run  had  it  not  been  for  a  lailky  old  Turk  who 
lumbered  suddenly  out  from  a  cross  lane.  I 
turned  half  aside  to  dodge  him,  but  too  late  '. 
We  collided  sideways.  As  a  billiard  ball  from 
the  cushion  I  bounded  off  bodily  in  an  oblicjuc 
direction,  my  neck  feeling  as  though  it  had  been 
badly  wrenched.  Then  came  a  series  of  sensa- 
tions—a thud,  a  Hall  through  breaking  boards, 
and  a  sudden  stoppage  in  semi-darkness.  As  I 
afterwards  ascertained,  I  had  cannoned  off  the 
Turk  into  the  doorless  entrance  of  a  disused 
building  in  the  cross  alley,  struck  against  a 
partition  joining  the  doorpost,  and  then  fallen 
through  the  rotten  flooring  into  a  cellar,  where  I 
now  lay— bruised,  breathless,  and  half  stunned. 


94 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


Cnes  and  general  clamounngs  without  quickly 

hrniight  me  to  a  sense  of  my  position.     I  arose 

ikful   that   no   bones   were    broken— and 

.K.uuy    mounted    the    debris,    until    I    could 

snatch  a  peep  of  the  scene  without.     Then  I 


distant  exclamations  of  the  Howlers  and  their 
friends  broke  the  stillness.  All  the  houses,  too, 
seemed  uninhabited.  Should  I  risk  chance 
eyes  and  make  another  dash  for  freedom  and 
safety,  or  remain  there  till  nightfall  ? 


I    UOUNDEU   OPP    DODILV    IN    AN    OBLIQUK    DIRECTION. 


scuttled  back  into  the  darkness.  At  the  cross- 
ir)'^  of  the  lanes  the  crowd  had  gathered,  its 
»>i      '  'n^     all     ways     at     once.       My 

'■  appearance    was    evidently    the 

t  of  hot  argument  and  inrjuiry.     The  old 
_'  "d  in  the  middle,  his  clothes  dirtied 

'  A\  across  that   muddy  lane.     He  was 

too  (Inzed  to  speak  intelligently. 

me  be  moving,  whilst  ama/.e- 

11    held    the   enemy   at   the 

nr  exploring  of  my  cellar  I 

an   o()eninR   which   looked    out    on    to 

running  parallel  to  the 

■   ■■    all  was  quiet  ;  only  the 


I'r. 


I  decided  to  take  my  chances,  and  as  quickly 
and  (juielly  as  possible  I  crept  out.  A  main 
street  was  soon  reached,  and  an  hour  later  I 
passed  safely  into  the  hospital.  I>ut  the  follow- 
ing day  Nemesis  got  upon  my  tracks.  All  the 
men  out  of  bed  were  mustered  before  a  deputa- 
tion from  the  Howlers,  who  had  in  some  way  or 
other  got  to  know  of  my  whereabouts.  I  was 
singled  out  without  any  hesitation,  and  the 
compensation  I  had  to  pay  for  the  escai)ade 
almost  drained  my  small  fund  at  the  Consul's 
office.  I  was  told,  moreover,  that  my  life 
would  ])ay  for  the  affair  if  I  remained  in 
Constantino|)le. 


bx-iraff-Serbt.    E.n^^^C^      life    o|--tb«--39"? 


(Dorset"bbire) 


HE  fondness  of  Private  Atkins  for 
pets  is  well  known,  and  in  the  old 
clays  in  India  the  cantonments, 
shortly  after  the  arrival  of  a  regiment 
fresh  from  home,  would  resemble  a 
straggling  Zoo  as  much  as  anything  else,  until 
various  contretemps,  subversive  of  military  dis- 
cipline and  barrack-room  economy,  would 
result  in  a  crop  of  regimental  orders  regulating 
or  suppressing  the  menagerie. 

Futile  attempts  to  convert  pariah  pups  into 
fighting  dogs,  strenuous  efforts  to  teach  green 
parrots  to  talk  in  a  month,  and  altogether  useless 
exertions  to  make  a  "plains"  mynah  (starling) 
talk  under  any  circumstances  whatever  would 
sometimes  turn  the  place  into  a  veritable  pande- 
monium, and  occasionally  cause  a  fight  between 
a  man  who  wanted  to  sleep  and  one  who  per- 
sistently shouted  "  Pretty  Poll  "'  to  a  demon  in 
green  feathers,  who  answered  him  only  with  car- 
splitting  shrieks.  I  remember  a  number  of  most 
laughable  incidents  in  connection  with  canton- 
ment pets. 

On  one  occasion  a  budding  naturalist  bought 
a  large  white  egret,  for  which  he  could  find  no 


Tommy  Atkins's  fondness  for  animals  is  well  known, 
and  in  this  chatty  little  paper  Sergeant  Moor  tells  some 
amusing  anecdotes  about  the  many  and  miscellaneous 
pels  kept  by  the  soldiers  of  our  Indian  Army.  The 
escapades  of  these  furred  and  feathered  favourites  very 
often  lead  to  most  absurd  situations. 


more  suitable  perch  than  the  space  on  the  shelf 
between  his  own  kit  and  that  of  the  man  who 
occupied  the  next  cot.  As  the  bird  had  an 
appetite  like  a  wolf  and  could  not  be  taken  out 
for  exercise,  the  result  may  be  easily  imagined 
—  the  kits  suffered  wofully— and  the  poor  bird 
soon  had  to  wing  its  way  to  parts  unknown.  On 
another  occasion,  when  "  C "  Company's  kits 
had  been  laid  out  for  inspection  in  the  strictly 
orderly  manner  prescribed  for  that  function, 
previous  to  going  on  parade,  some  wag  loitered 
behind  and  privately  untied  a  monkey  belonging 
to  one  of  the  corporals.  During  the  hour  of 
the  company's  absence  at  drill  this  little  beast 
most  industriously  and  promiscuously  mixed 
every  kit  in  the  bungalow,  and  transferred 
numerous  articles  to  the  rafters,  whence,  on  the 
company's  return  from  drill,  it  was  seen  com- 
placently surveying  the  indescribable  nielatti:;e 
below.  The  language  indulged  in  by  the 
members  of  the  company  on  this  occasion  was, 
I  regret  to  say,  too  extensive  and  peculiar  to  be 
repeated.  It  took  a  tremendous  time  to  sort 
out  all  the  articles  properly  again,  and  the 
monkey  narrowly  escaped  with  his  life. 

A  subsequent  adventure  of  this  same  monkey 
friend,  however,  was  very  much  more  approved 
of,  and  earned  for  him  complete  forgiveness  for 
the  kit  inspection  business.  It  happened  in  this 
wise.  'J'he  amount  of  li(]uor  which  was  allowed  to 
be  [)urchased  by  each  man  from  the  canteen  was 
one  (juart  of  beer  and  one  dram  of  rum  per 
diem.  In  those  days  the  method  of  r(  ' 
the  purchase  was  for  tlie  orderly  coi| 
each  company  to  stand  near  the  counter  with  a 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


board  on  which  was  a  list  of  the  men's  names  ; 
as  each  man  was  supplied  the  orderly  corporal 
inserted  a  ■        '        peg   in   a  hole  opposite   his 

name.     Th.   uen  sergeant  was  allowed  some 

inafijin  to  work  on,  and  an  extra  dram  was  often 

1   by  thirsty  men  by  collusion   with  the 

.;^MLiiy   corporal.     Oftener,   however,   one   man 

would  get  info   conversation   with    the   orderly 

corporal  while  some  light-fingered   companion 

'  .<1    more    than    one   or    two    of    them) 

cd  a  pt-g  or  two  from  the  tell-tale  board. 

Each  case  of  drunkenness  led  to  further  canteen 

.    and  at    last    the  orderly  corporals 

mded  by  a  light  wooden  fence,  which 

rendereil  the  abstraction  of  pegs  impossible. 

On  the  memorable  day  in  question  a  cricket 
match  had  Laken  place,  and  some  of  the  thirsty 
souls  of  "  C  "  Company  were  at  their  wits'  end 


plied  previously,  but  the  majority  had  their  way, 
and  great  was  the  jubilation  among  the  unre- 
generate.  The  issue  of  beer,  etc.,  is  now 
recorded  in  ink  on  printed  sheets. 

In  the  Northern  Punjab,  whi'^h  is  not  much 
nearer  the  Equator  than  the  south  of  Spain,  the 
winter  mornings  and  evenings  are  quite  chilly; 
consequently,  the  dog-fancying  fraternity  of  the 
gallant  39th  had  provided  their  favourites  with 
coats,  and  in  the  matter  of  tailor-made  costumes 
some  of  them  could  almost  have  vied  with  a 
Regent  Street  poodle.  Each  man  tried  to  out- 
do his  fellows  in  the  gorgeousness  of  his  dog's 
coat.  One  simple  fellow,  whom  I  will  call  Ken, 
actually  conceived  and  carried  out  the  ridicu- 
lous idea  of  curing  a  jackal's  skin,  tail  and  all, 
with  which  to  clothe  his  beloved  cur.  Thus, 
quite  unwittingly,  he  made   the  poor   brute  an 


whi 


how  to  get  an  extra  drink  to  allay  their 

raninjj  thirst.      In  this  extremity  .some 

d  to  the  owner  of  the 

ac  should  fetch  his  pet, 

been   at    the   canteen   on 
ions,  and,  with    the  in- 
ity    of    his    tribe,    had 
tr<\  a  strong  desire   to 
!)eg  -  board.        'Ihe 
lit  in  a  few  minutes,  and  his 
sidled  up  to  the  fence  and 
riy  corporal  in  conversation. 
I    a   bound,   the    monkey  sprang 

'' • 'dentally,  of  course,  as 

)    over    the    partition 

the     board,    sending     the    pegs 

■  '  the  dismay   of  their 

there  were  numerous 

IV  were  refused  on  the 

1  and  canteen 

■•■ant  bein;^  sup- 


I     to 

1  all  dl- 
■  n       1 1 1 


HE    WAS   SOON    JOINED    BY    HALF    A    SCORE   OF   OTHER    MEN." 

object  of  hatred  to  all  its  canine  brethren. 
One  morning  Private  Fitzpatrick,  who  had 
been  groom  to  a  sporting  "gintleman  ''  in 
Ireland,  saw  his  dog  straining  the  leash 
and  growling  at  a  remarkable-looking  animal 
a  couple  of  hundred  yards  away.  It  was, 
of  course,  Ken's  dog,  with  its  extraordinary  coat 
on.  So  Private  Fitzpatrick  released  his  cur, 
shouted  "Jackal!"  and,  with  a  wild  Irish 
"Tally-ho!"  set  off  in  hot  pursuit  of  the 
hybrid  -  looking  beast.  His  cries  aroused  the 
camp,  and   he  was  soon  joined    by  half  a   score 


CANTON iMENT    PETS. 


97 


of  other  men,  all  Ajlhjwetl  by  iheir  dogs.  In  vani 
the  excited  Ken,  who  dashed  after  the  yelling 
crowd,  protested  that  it  was  not  a  jackal,  but 
his  own  dog.  'J'hey  could  not  hear  him,  and  in 
any  case  the  dogs  were  too  e.xcited  to  be  called 
off,  so  the  chase  was  continued  until  poor  Ken's 
unfortunate  pet  was  finally  run  down.  It  w\as 
currently  rcjiorted  that  Ken  was  more  moved 
by  the  affair  than  if  they  had  been  hunting  his 
father. 

The  fancy  of  Johnson  (of  "F"  Company) 
took  the  cumbrous  form  of  horses,  of  which  he 
had  two.  This  need  not  excite  much  surprise 
when  1  tell  you  that  a  country  "  tat,"  or  pony, 
could  then  be  purchased  for  less  than  Rs.30 
(about  ;^3)  and  a  "cast"  Artillery  horse  for  Rs. 50. 
Moreover,  he  made  them  contribute  consider- 
ably to  their  owu  support  by  hiring  them  out 
to  men  who  fancied  a  little  ecjuestrian  exercise. 
I  had  a  great  ambition  to  learn  to  ride  (why  I 
didn't  join  the  cavalry  is  another  story),  and  one 
day  Miller,  my  comrade,  proposed  to  me  that 
after  tea  he  should  have  Johnson's  horses  ready 
and  we  would  go  for  a  ride.  I  gladly  assented, 
for  being  on  staff  employment  during  the  day- 
time I  always  found  myself  forestalled  by  some- 
one whenever  I  went  to  make  the  necessary 
arranirements. 

^Miller  duly  had  the  horses  ready,  and  I 
mounted  the  "cast"  horse  and  he  the  "tat." 
Off  we  cantered  down  the  road  over  the  plain — 
a  dead  level  for  scores  of  miles  and  about  as 
interesting  from  a  scenic  point  of  view  as  the 
top  of  a  dining-table. 
Miller  occasionally 
gave  me  elementary 
instructions  in  equita- 
tion, afterwards  pranc- 
ing off  on  the  "  tat "' 
for  a  hundred  yards 
or  so.  There  was  not 
much  prance  in  my 
steed,  and  he  went  as 
steadily  as  a  steam- 
roller till  we  neared 
the  Artillery  (juarters, 
which  lay  about  600 
yards  from  the  'road. 
Just  then  the  stable 
call  sounded,  and  my 
mount  immediately 
obeyed  the  call  by 
turning  thitherwards. 
In  spite  of  my  effoits 
— for  I  did  not  wish 
to  leave  the  road — he 
would  go  on  towards 
the  barracks.  In 
vain  I  coaxed  him. 
Vol.  x.— 13. 


switched  him,  pulled  at  the  rein,  or  vigor- 
ously applied  the  heel  of  my  boots  to  his 
ribs  ;  he  was  master  of  the  situation.  Whether 
it  was  the  force  of  military  discipline,  old  asso- 
ciations, the  prospect  of  another  feed,  or  the 
hope  of  seeing  once  more  an  old  comrade  in 
harness  I  know  not,  hut  I  was  finally  reduced 
to  getting  off  his  back  and  trying  to  lead  him 
past  the  place.  Miller,  seeing  my  difficulty, 
rode  back  and  dismounted,  saying  he  would 
steer  him  past.  "  Mount  the  tat,"  said  he,  "  but 
keep  a  tight  rein,  for  he  is  very  fresh."  I 
obeyed,  but  I  became  so  interested  in  watching 
Miller's  extraordinary  manreuvres  with  the  ex- 
Artillery  horse — the  "steering  past"  not  being 
so  easy  as  he  thought — that  I  gradually  for- 
got the  tight  rein,  and  off  the  "tat"  darted. 
There  was  neither  hedge  nor  ditch  to  the 
road,  and  he  soon  left  it  at  a  gallop.  I 
kept  my  perilous  seat  pretty  well  for  an  amateur 
— and  it  was  perilous  — for  my  knec^  were  in 
undignified  proximity  to  my  body,  the  bunga- 
lows were  becoming  dim  in  the  distance,  and  I 
began  to  anticipate  a  night  in  the  jungle. 
Having  already  had  one  experience  of  that 
sort  I  did  not  hanker  after  another,  so  I 
determined  to  make  an  effort  to  check  the 
mad  career  of  my  flying  steed. 

I  got  a  terrific  strain  to  bear  on  the  rein, 
when  suddenly  my  left  stirrup  leather,  which 
was  old  and  dry,  parted,  and  over  I  went,  bring- 
ing the  pony  down  with  me  and  landing  with 
one  arm  round   his  neck.     There  we  lay  for  a 


'over    I    WENT,    URINCINt;   THK 


ONV    DOWN    WIVH    MK." 


98 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MACiAZINE. 


few  minutes,  for  I  dared  not  leave  go  of  him 
for  fear  he  would  trample  upon  me  in  rising. 
Presently,  however,  Miller  came  up  and  extri- 
cated me.  How  I  escaped  without  broken 
bones  is  a  mystery  to  me  still,  but  I  suppose  the 
short  distance  I  had  to  fall  had  something  to 
do  with  it ;  the  only  result  was  a  shock,  and 
the  splitting  of  my  white  drill  suit  from  the 
shoulder  nearly  down  to  the  heel.  I  was  so 
captivated  with  the  notion  that  such  a  little 
beggar  could  run  away  with  me  that,  on  hearing 
shortly  after  that  the  "tat"  was  for  sale,  I  bought 
him,  saddle,  bridle,  a  set  of  brushes,  and  a 
couple  of  feeds  of  "gram,"  for  the  moderate 
sum  of  Rs. 30.  We  stabled  him  under  a 
tamarind  tree  close  by.  Miller  doing  the  groom- 
ing in  consideration  of  rides  during  my  absence. 
He  became  the  idol  of  "  C  "  Company,  and  it 
was  a  positive  treat  to  see  the  little  rascal  trot- 
ting down  the  verandas  of  a  morning  and  stop 
ping  at  open  doors  to 
beg  for  bread   left    from 

overnight  teas.     This  was 

a  trait  in  his  character 
which,    for     financial 

reasons,  strongly  appealed 

to  me.     He  knew  all  the 

Itungry      men     of     "  C " 

Company  as   well    as   a 

professional  beggar  knows 

the  houses  where  it  is  use- 
less to  call. 

JJesides   these    private 

and     personal    pets    we 

were  sometimes  catholic- 
minded  enough  to  in- 
dulge in  one  collectively. 

This  was  jxirticularly  the 

case   when    the    baggage 

animals    provided    for   a 

march    happened    to    be 

elephants.       Once,    when 

on  the  march  to  I.ahore 

to  attrnfl  the  C;rand  Dur- 
bar in  honour  of  H.K.  H. 

Ihc   Duke  of   Edinlnirgh 

—in     i«7i,    I    believ. 

•'■-'•  '.vas  an  open  ( <jni 
1  amongst  the  men 

\n  the  lent  I  had  charge 

of  as  to  who  should  gain  most  recognition  from, 


same  spot,  or  nearly  so.  The  time  was  as  soon 
as  the  tent  side-walls  were  taken  down  in  the 
morning,  about  3  a.m.  ;  the  spot  was  just  under 
my  j^a//ir/,  a  thick  wadded  cotton  quilt  for  .sleep- 
ing on.  To  afford  every  facility  for  the  rapid 
I)acking  of  camp  equipage  the  elephants  were 
brought  as  close  as  possible  to  the  tents  over- 
night, and  when  the  walls  were  down  Hathi 
would  extend  his  trunk  into  the  tent  and  take 
the  bread  from  my  hand.  Not  being  required 
to  take  part  in  the  actual  packing  of  the  tent, 
1  usually  laid  a  minute  or  two  longer  than 
the  rest,  till  the  side-walls  were  down  and  there 
was  more  room  to  move  about.  One  morning  I 
oversle{)t  myself  a  little,  and  was  suddenly 
roused  by  a  violent  undulatory  motion  by  the 
side  of  my  gatlu-i  and  partly  beneath  my  body. 
In  my  half-awake  condition  this  was  so  strongly 
suggestive  of  big  snakes  that  before  I  had  time 
to  think  I  bounded  out  of  bed  like  an  acrobat. 


and     Ik,-    most    famihar     with,    my    lord    the 
elephant.      I  gain.-H  a  somewhat  undue  advan- 


'11 


by   the 


occasional 

'pliant  of  a 

-  .>  — of  which 

very   fond— and   further   by   giving 

I  always  gave  it 

■  i  •-'Ju<ed  it  from  the 


I    BOUNDED   OUT   OK    lilCU    I.IKF,    AN    ACROBAT." 

coming  into  violent  collision  with  an  Irish 
|)rivate  who  was  rolling  up  some  canvas.  When 
I  had  collected  my  faculties  I  saw  the  cau.se  of 
the  trouble.  Hathi,  growing  imi)atient,  had 
in.serted  his  trunk  between  my  ^r?///r/ and  the 
ground,  and  was  groping  for  the  bread  on  his 
own  account.  He  found  it,  too,  for  I  was 
just  in  time  to  .sec  him  conveying  it  to  the 
enormous  chasm  wl.ich  served   him  as  a  mouth. 


CANTONMENT    PETS. 


99 


I  was  not  allowed  to  fors^et  the  incident  for 
some  lime  ;  anything  unlikely  was  frequently 
com[)ared  to  "Sergeant  Moor's  snake,"  and  the 
battered  Irish  private  did  not  seem  able  to  make 
u[)  his  mind  whether  1  had  knocked  him  over 
purposely  or  not.  But  my  efforts  to  make  a 
personal  pet  of  I  lathi  had  received  a  set- 
back. 

Last,  but  not  least,  comes  the  story  of  Baloo, 
the  bear.  The  scene  was  at  Murree,  a  hill 
sanatorium  situated  on  a  spur  of  the  Himalayas  ; 
the  dramatis  persoiuc  men  of  all  branches  of  the 
service.  The  most  available  pets  at  this  station 
are  young  bears  of  the  black  variety,  with  a 
chevron  of  white  hair  under  the  chin  ;  price 
Rs.4. 

Corporal  Wright's  bear,  which  had  just  been 
transferred  from  the  veranda  to  a  dog-kennel 
outside  because  it  disturbed  our  rest,  had  broken 
its  dog-chain  and  disappeared. 

"Where's  Taffy  Jones?"  inquired  Corporal 
Wright. 

"Outside,  teaching  his  dog  to  sit  up  and  beg," 
someone  replied. 

Taffy  was  an  athletic -looking  gunner  of  the 
Garrison  Artillery,  who  was  fond  of  Wright's 
bear,  partly  because  it  resembled  a  big  dog,  but 
chieflv  because,  when  it  stood  on  its  hind  legs, 
after  the  manner  of  beats,  and  fumbled  with  its 
forepaws  in  the  vicinity  of  the  white  chevron,  it 
forcibly  reminded  him  of  a  minister  he  knew  at 
home  in  a  Welsh  colliery  village  making  a  vain 
attempt  to  tie  his  white  choker. 

"Taffy,  I'll  stand  you  a  pint  of  beer  if  you'll 
go  down  to  the  Parsee's  shop  in  the  bazaar  and 
bring  my  bear  up,"  said  the  corporal ;  "  I'm 
orderly  corporal  and  can't  go  myself.  Some- 
one has  found  Baloo  wandering  about  down 
there,  and  has  fastened  him  up  to  Jamsetjee's 
railings  against  the  shop  door ;  the  meni-sahihs 
(white  ladies)  daren't  go  in.  Jamsetjee  has  sent 
up  to  see  whom  he  belongs  to,  and  I  don't  want 
to  get  into  a  row  about  it." 

"  Right,"  said  Taffy,  with  military  brevity. 
"  Come  on,  Prouting  "  (to  his  comrade,  an 
infantryman  as  big  as  himself);  "we'll  go 
and  fetch  Baloo  up."  And  off  down  the  hill 
they  went  to  the  bazaar. 

They  found  Jamsetjee  gazing  disconsolately 
through  his  shop  door  at  Baloo,  who  was  tied 
u[j  by  a  dog-chain  to  the  railings.  The  worthy 
Parsee  was  inwardly  bewailing  the  loss  of  most 
of  that  morning's  trade  in  "  Europe  goods." 

"  I  know  who  owns  Baloo,"  casually 
remarked  Taffy. 

"  Then  take  him  away,"  cried  Jamsetjee,  ex- 
citedly ;  "  he  lose  me  ten,  twenty,  fifty  rupees  to- 
day ;  no  niein-sahihs  come  into  my  shop.  I'll 
make  report." 


"WhatU  you  give   me  to  take  him  awny. 
pursued  the  Artilleryman,  unmoved. 

"  Nothing,  nothing  ! "  shrieked  the  little 
trader  ;  "  he  lose  me  too  much  already." 

"  I'll  take  him  away  for  a  bottle  of  brandy," 
said  Taffy. 

"  Ahi  1 "  said  the  Parsee,  "it  is  against  all 
order,  you  know,  to  sell  or  give  brandy  to 
soldiers." 

"  Well,  you  can  keep  your  brandy  and  Baloo, 
too,"  retorted  Taffy,  and  he  turned  carelessly 
away  with  Prouting.  They  sat  down  a  few  [)aces 
off  and  proceeded  to  fill  their  pipes  in  a  most 
leisurely  and  aggravating  manner,  at  intervals 
making  friendly  remarks  to  Baloo,  who  was 
markedly  anxious  for  a  walk.  In  fact,  he 
strained  and  struggled  at  his  chain  in  a  manner 
which  threatened  to  pull  down  the  railings. 
Meanwhile,  the  harassed  Jamsetjee  expostulated, 
threatened,  and  cajoled  by  turn,  but  all  to 
no  purpose.  Taffy  and  Prouting  smoked  and 
chatted  for  an  hour,  taking  no  notice  whatever 
of  him  ;  then,  wich  a  jocular  farewell  to  the 
impadent  Baloo,  they  got  up  and  turned  to  go. 

In  despair  at  the  prospect  of  a  siege  for  the 
remainder  of  the  day,  with  a  consequent  loss  of 
rupees,  which  were  far  dearer  to  the  avaricious 
little  man  than  any  number  of  regulations, 
Jamsetjee  finally  produced  the  brandy  under  a 
solemn  promise  of  secrecy,  and  the  happy  trio 
were  soon  wending  their  way  uphill.  But  the 
day  was  hot,  the  hill  was  steep  and  high,  and 
the  brandy  was  ever  present  to  the  minds  of 
two  of  the  three  travellers.  So,  fastening  Baloo 
to  a  tree,  they  sat  down  to  have  "just  one 
drink."  This  "one  drink,"  of  course,  led  to 
the  emptying  of  the  botUe  on  the  spot.  This 
accomplished  they  set  out  for  camp  again,  but 
not  quickly,  for  the  method  of  progress  of  a 
half-grown  bear  on  a  dog-chain  is  somewhat 
erratic.  Before  the  uncorking  of  the  bottle, 
this  disposition  to  wander  on  the  part  of  P.aloo 
was  overcome  by  Taffy  and  Prouting  in  a 
friendly  and  persuasive  manner ;  but  the  sun 
was  getting  higher  and  the  brandy  was  working, 
and  Taffy  s  Celtic  ire  mounted.  After  a  few 
sudden  rushes  on  the  part  of  l^>aloo,  followed  by 
loud  and  dictatorial  advice  from  Prouting  on  the 
proper  method  of  leading  young  bears,  Taffy 
angrily  pulled  Baloo  up  with  a  sharp  jerk  of  the 
chain,  whereupon  Baloo  responded  by  biting 
him  on  the  calf  of  the  leg  and  removing  a  con- 
siderable i)ortion  of  his  trousers,  'i'he  irate 
Taffy  retaliated  with  a  kick,  and  the  progress 
became  a  very  lively  affair  indeed,  for  men  and 
bear  got  mixed  up  in  a  rough-and-tumble 
scrimmage. 

By  the  time  they  reached  the  cantonments  they 
were  all  three  in  a  lieautiful  state  of  excitement 


lOO 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE 


and  dirt.  Baloo  was  furious  and  took  a  lot  of 
holding  in.  On  arrival,  of  course,  the  bedraggled 
trio  were  greeted  with  roars  of  laughter  and  a 
running  fire  of  chaff  from  the  groups  of  idlers 
outside  the  bungalows.  This  did  not  by  any 
means  improve  Taffy's  temper,  and  an  alterca- 


carried  off  by  half-a-dozen  strapping  fellows  to 
the  guard-room. 

The  end  of  Baloo  was  tragic  rather  than 
comic.  His  owner,  disgusted  with  the  notoriety 
he  had  obtained,  sold  him  to  a  sergeant,  who, 
in    order    to  rescue  him  as  much    as   possible 


"a    I.iili.ll-AND-TUMULE   SCRIMMAGE.' 


tion  took  place  which  would  soon  have  ended 
in   a   fight.      Unluckily   for   him,   however,    he 
espied    a    colour-sergeant    going    by,    when    it 
suddenly  occurred   to   his   fuddled   mind   that 
there   was  a    little    difference    about    his   last 
month's    pay    which    required    ;in    immediate 
'  '     lent.     So  he  at  once  cornered  the  colour- 
■^     it,  who  was  a  smallish  man,  and  began  to 
argue   the   matter  out   in    a   very    threatening 
manner.     The  colour-sergeant,  seeing  the  con- 
dition he  was  in,  and  that  there  was  no  prosjject 
of  escajM,'  till  the  close  of  an  apparently  inter- 
minable argument,  to  be  followed,  in  all  prob- 
'   '  ■  .   by  an  assault,   motioned  to   me  for  an 
,  ami    'I'.iffv.  l:irking   and    plunging,    was 


from  the  indignity  of  the  dog-kennel,  would 
sometimes  allow  the  bear  to  accompany  him  to 
his  room  upstairs,  where  he  amused  himself 
watching  Baloo's  antics.  One  day,  however, 
when  the  window  was  open,  Baloo  fell  out 
during  his  uncouth  gambols,  landing  at  the  feet 
of  a  warrant  officer's  wife.  The  sudden  appari- 
tion of  a  great  black  bear  appearing  from  tlie 
sky  so  startled  the  poor  lady  that  she  became 
seriously  ill.  C'oniplaint  was  made  to  the 
regimental  authorities,  and  as  a  result  poor 
Baloo  was  sentenced  to  be  shot,  and  his  wander- 
ings ended  for  ever.  His  untimely  death  cast 
quite  a  gloom  over  us,  and  pet  -  keeping 
languished  in  popularity. 


A  Curious  Postman  — A  Troublesome  Railway — One  Result  of   a  Drought— The  Carl    Myers  "Balloon 

Farm  " — The  "  Singing  Fish  *'  of  Batticaloa,  etc. 

(7,ooott.).  Toward  the  end  of  March,  when 
this  line  is  opened  for  trafific,  the  snow  is  some- 
times over  30ft.  deep  on  the  Hne,  and  the  hotel 
on  the  summit  of  the  mountain  is  buried  up  to 
tlie  third  storey.  ,  The  workmen  all  have  to  wear 
blue  glasses  on  account  of  the  overpowering 
glare  from  the  snow,  and  frequently,  directly  the 
line  has  been  cleared,-  there  comes  another 
heavy  fall  of  snow,  and  all  the  work  has  to  be 
begun  over  again  I  Our  snap-shot  shows  a 
typical  length  of  track  after  the  snow  has  been 
dug  away,  and  will  give  some  idea  of  the 
difficulties  met  with  in  keeping  the  line  open. 


A    CUIUOUS    POSTMAN — THIS    MAN    CAKKIES     HIS    MAJtSTVS    MAILS    I X 

From  a\  the  nigek  district.  [Photo. 


HE  first  photograph  comes  all  the 
way  from  Southern  Nigeria,  and 
sliows  the  ])ostnian  who   brings   the 


lung-looked-for  letters  from  "  liome 
U)  the  up-country  stations.  He 
brings  the  mails  from  the  post-office  on  the  main 
Niger  River,  paddling  some  part  of  the  way  and 
carrying  his  canoe  on  his  head  for  the  rest,  and 
fulfils  liis  duties  most  faithfully.  This  scantily- 
clad  postman,  wiio  is  equally  at  home  on  land 
or  water,  should  interest  his  smart-uniformed 
comrades  in  this  country,  who  would  probably 
stand  aghast  if  they  had  to  make  the  arduous 
journeys  he  performs  with  his  little  bark  canoe. 

Railway  companies  in  this  country  sometimes 
find  the  snow  a  terrible  nuisance  ;  but  their 
trouijles  are  as  nothing  com[)ared  with  the  work 
necessary  to  clear  the  rack-and-pinion  railway 
that  runs  from  Territet,  in  Switzerland,  to  the 
summit  of  the  neighbouring  Rochers  de  Naye 


A    SNAl-illOT  OH    THE   TEKKI  I  ET    RAII.WAV.    VMIlu 
SOMETIME.S   30FT.    DKKI'. 


rHE    SSl>W    IS 


I02 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


A   CANADIAN        ALLIGATOK    BJAT 


-IT  CAN     1  RAVKL    BOTH    ON    LAND    AND    IN    THE   WATER. 

From  a  Photo. 


We  have  now  to  consider  a  vessel  which  in 
all  prohability  will  not  be  found  on  "  Lloyd's 
Register."  This  curious 'craft  is  at  home  both  on 
bnd  and  in  the  water,  although  her  movements 
on  land  are  certainly  somewhat  slower  than 
when  she  is  in  her  proper  element.  The  little 
steamer  here  shown  is  known  as  an  "  alligator 
boat,"  and  is  used  by  the  Canadian  lumbermen. 
As  will  be  seen,  the  craft 
is  flat-bottomed  and  of 
shallow  draught,  but  in 
spite  of  this  .she  some 
limes  meets  with  sand 
tianks  she  cannot  scrape 
over,  or  even  places  where 
the  river  has  entirely 
dried  U[).  To  overcome 
these  diHicullies  the  boat 
carries  a  big  steel  drum, 
worked  liv  hrr  engines. 
When  I  ground 

able  arc 

■-".      .wiiie     way 

ahead,  the  engines  are  set 
nd  the  boat  is 
'    '   -  -    •  ,  th.- 

.    .Mil. 

to   lessen 


boats  of  this  class 
have  special  paddle- 
wheels,  which  are 
also  designed  to  help 
them  over  dry 
ground. 

The  next  photo- 
graph shown  was- 
taken  in  the  West 
Australian  bush,  and 
depicts  a  very  rare 
occurrence  —  seven 
emus  gathered  to- 
gether at  a  water-hole. 
These  birds,  as  most 
Australians  know,  are 
very  shy,  and  do  not 
usually  allow  people 
to  approach  anywhere 
near  them.  Owing 
to  one  of  the  periodic 
droughts  with  which 
the  interior  is  de- 
vastated, however, 
there  was  a  great 
scarcity  of  water,  and, 
this  being  the  only  pool  for  miles,  the  emus 
preferred  to  take  the  risk  of  being  photographed 
rather  than  leave  without  satisfying  their  thirst. 

The  Carl  Myers  Balloon  Farm,  at  Frankfort, 
in  the  State  of  New  York,  is  a  unitjue  institution. 
For  years  past  Professor  Myers,  the  proprietor, 
has  given  his  whole  attention  to  aeronautics, 
and    has  invented  quite  a  number  of  air-ships. 


Irtwisl-  im- 


/'  f\'tn  a  I 


ONK    KESULT   OK    A    DKOUCHT— SEVEN    EMUS   AT   ONE    WATEk-IIOLE. 


[Photo. 


ODDS    AND    ENDS. 


lO: 


I'loni  a\ 


THE   CAKL    MYEUS        BALLOON    FAK.M        Af    FRANKFORT,    N.Y. 


all  of  which  have  been  built  at  this  curious 
"  farm."  Our  photograph  shows  a  "  balloon 
picnic"  which  was  held  recently  at  this 
establishment.  To  the  right  of  the  picture 
will  be  seen  Professor  Myers's  latest  aerial  pro- 
duct, a{)propriately  called  a  "  sky-cycle,"  for 
the  reason  that  it  is  propelled  and  steered 
after  the  manner  of  an  ordinary  bicycle. 
This  ingenious  air-ship  was  erected  at  the 
"  farm  "  in  the  record  time 
of  five  days,  and  cost  only 
about  ;!^7o  to  construct. 
'J'he  other  air-ship  seen 
in  our  picture  is  a  captive 
balloon,  and  during  the 
summer  of  1901  as  many 
as  iG,ooo  persons  took 
trips  into  the  clouds  in  it. 
It  is  controlled  by  a  kero- 
sene motor  windlass,  and 
by  an  ingenious  arrange- 
ment invented  by  the 
Professor  can  be  made  to 
rise  to  a  height  of  i, 000ft. 
in  less  than  a  minute, 
while  it  can  be  hauled 
down  again  by  a  cable  in 
just  under  four  minutes 
without  the  passengers 
being  conscious  of  any 
perceptible       motion. 

Hundreds      of      balloons      ,,u.;sk  mvk  i.»v.s  u> .  „,... 
have   been   made   at    this        From  a] 


unique  m-iim- 
tion,  and  soiiie 
of  iliem  are  now 
in  use  in  the 
United  Star.-s 
Army. 

Our  next 
photo,  was  taken 
at  the  Magh 
Mela,  a  big 
Hindu  fair  whi(  b 
is  held  yearly 
at  Allahabad, 
where  hundreds 
of  thousands  of 
pilgrims  from  all 
parts  of  India 
assemble  to 
bathe  at  the 
junction  of  the 
sacred  rivers 
O  a  n  g  e  s  and 
Jumna.  The 
standing  figures 
in  the  photo, 
are  five  boys 
representing  five  Hindu  deities,  and  the 
seated  figures  on  either  side  are  fiikirs  whose 
business  it  is  to  beat  together  the  large  nails 
they  are  holding,  and  thus  attract  the  faithful, 
who  throw  down  the  offerings  which  are  shown 
at  the  feet  of  the  "gods." 

Nowhere  in  the  world  does  the  pumpkin  reach 
such  a  size  as  in  some  parts  of  California.  In 
the  southern  parts  of  that  favoured  State  one 


(/M.  A.. 


MADE    IIV   TIIK    FAITIIKUU 


|/'<iv/<A. 


i04 


liiL    \\ii>L    WXJRLl)    .MAGAZINE. 


frequently  comes 
across  a  whole 
field  given  over 
to  nothing  else 
but  the  cultiva- 
tion of  this  deli 
cious  fruit.  The 
striking  photo- 
graph we  repro- 
duce belowdepicts 
a  field  of  pump- 
kins near  the 
town  of  Santa 
Barbara.  I'rom 
twenty  to  twenty 
five  tons  of 
pumpkins  can  be 
"raised"  here- 
abouts on  an 
acre  of  ground, 
fetching  the 
farmer  about 
j^io.  From  a 
distance  a  pump- 
kin field  presents  a  uniciue  spectacle,  with 
its  hundreds  of  monster  pumpkins  apparently 
lying  carelessly  on  the  ground. 

'J'he  photograph  reproduced  herewith  is  a 
view  of  Halticaloa  Lake,  in  Ceylon.  This 
lake  has  been  formed  through  the  gradual  dam- 
ming-up  of  a  large  river  by  a  sand -bank, 
and  is  remarkable  as  being  the  home  of 
a  mysterious  species  of  "  singing  fish." 
The   sounds    produced    by    these    fish    are    so 


J' rout  a  \ 


BATllCALOA    LAKE,    IN    CEVI.ON,    FAMOUS    FUK   ITS   MYSTEUIOUS        SINGING    FISH. 


Wlioto. 


sweet  and  melodious  that  they  have  been 
variously  compared  to  myriads  of  /^>olian 
harps  or  very  sweet  zithers  mingled  with  an 
occasional  deep  bass  note,  ^^'hen  rowing  out 
on  the  lake  on  a  quiet  night  the  delicate  strains 
may  be  heard  waxing  and  waning  as  the  boat 
approaches  or  moves  away  from  the  exact  spot 
where  the  mysterious  little  musicians  live.  If 
an  oar  be  thrust  down  into  the  water  and  the 
ear   applied    to  the    end  the  sound    is  much 

intensified. 
Scientists  are 
not  agreed  as  to 
the  exact  crea- 
ture that  pro- 
duces  the 
"music,"  but 
the  natives  as- 
sert that  it  is  a 
shell-fish  known 
to  the  learned  as 
Ccri'ttiiim  pains- 
tre.  It  is  a  curi- 
ous fact,  how- 
ever, that  in  no 
other  lagoon 
where  this  par- 
ticular fish  is 
found  does  it 
m  a  k  e  the 
strange,  melo- 
dious sounds 
w  h  i  c  h  have 
made  Halticaloa 
Photo.        Lake  famous. 


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The  Wide  World  Magazine. 


Vol.  X. 


DECEMBER,    1902. 


No.  56. 


The  Deadwood  Coach. 

By    Alfred    Burkholder,    of    Sioux     F.vlls,     South    Dakot.\. 

The  adventures  of  the  famous  Deadwood  Coach  form  one  of  the  most  exciting  chapters  in  the 
annals  of  the  "  Wild  West."  Times  out  of  number  the  coach  was  "  held-up  "  and  robbed,  fierce  fights 
took  place  for  the  gold  it  carried,  and  even  a  bulwark  of  armour-plate  failed  to  protect  it  from 
the   prowling    desperadoes    who    infested    the    mountains.      In    this    article    Mr.    Burkholder   chronicles 

some  of  the   most    momentous   trips  made  by  the  old  coach. 


HE  suggestion  of  the  Hon.  William 
F.  Cody — better  known  as  "Buffalo 
Bill  " — that  the  original  Deadwood 
Coach,  owned  by  him,  be  presented 
to  the  National  Museum  at  Wash- 
ington will  add  to  the  interesting  collection  in 
that  institution  a  vehicle  typical  of  one  of  the 
most  exciting  and  romantic  periods  in  the 
development  of  the  "  Wild  West."  So  far  as 
the  writer  is  aware,  the  eventful  history  of  the 
Deadwood  Coach  has  never  previously  been 
related. 

The  Deadwood  Coach  is  one  of  the  old 
Concord  type,  and  was  built  in  1863  by 
Abbott,  Downey,  and  Co.,  of  Concord,  N.H. 
It  is  numbered,  and  the  records  show  it 
was  shi[)ped  around  Cape  Horn  to  a  Californian 
firm.  In  thirteen  years  it  had  worked  its  way 
eastward  across  the  country  from  California  to 
Wyoming,  where  its  present  owner  found  it 
running  on  the  stage  line  between  Cheyenne 
and  Deadwood. 

Gold  was  first  discovered  in  the  Black  Hills 
in  the  summer  of  1874,  by  the  Government 
expedition  under  command  of  General  George 
A.  Custer.  News  of  the  discovery  soon  became 
known,  and  immediately  the  influx  of  eager 
gold-seekers  commenced.  As  the  gold  region 
had  not  been  ceded  to  the  (Government  by  the 
Sioux  Indians  at  that  time,  prospectors  ran  the 
constant  risk  of  l)eing  waylaid  and  killed  by 
Indians,  or  captured  by  United  States  troops 
and  escorted  out  of  the  country,  after  having  all 
their  effects  confiscated  by  the  authorities. 

A  halo  of  romance  surrounds  the  stories  told 
of  the   fearless   men   who,   in  those   wild,  early 

Vol.  X.  — 14. 


days,  guarded  the  gold  bullion  sent  out  from 
the  Black  Hills.  These  brave  men  hourly  held 
their  lives  in  their  hands.  The  only  means  of 
transportation  was  the  lumbering  stage-coach, 
which  travelled  over  roads  running  through 
deep  and  winding  ravines,  skirted  on  both  sides 
by  a  thick  growth  of  pine  trees  and  under- 
brush, which  afforded  a  convenient  shelter  for 
the  prowling  savage  and  desperate  "road-agent." 
In  the  days  before  the  advent  of  the  railroad  in 
the  Black  Hills  country,  that  region  was  infested 
by  as  desperate  and  lawless  bands  of  highway- 
men and  robbers  as  ever  inflicted  their  presence 
upon  a  newly-discovered  mining  country. 

When  mining  operations  were  actively  in 
progress  and  rich  veins  of  gold  were  being 
struck  alnicst  daily,  it  was  natural  that  the 
owners  of  the  large  gold-producing  mines  should 
look  about  for  some  secure  means  by  which  to 
send  their  bullion  east. 

The  first  shipment  of  gold-dust  was  made  in 
the  fall  of  1876.  As  the  surrounding  country 
was  still  filled  with  hostile  Sioux  Indians  who 
after  the  Custer  massacre  of  the  previous  June 
had  split  up  into  small  bands  -and  with  white 
desperadoes  who  were  even  more  bloodthirsty 
than  the  Indians,  the  shipment  of  gold  became 
a  matter  of  grave  importance.  Serious  con- 
sideration was  given  to  the  best  means  of 
getting  it  asvay  in  such  a  manner  as  to  prevent 
its  failing  into  the  hands  of  the  outlaws  or 
Indians. 

The  first  shipment  was  made  by  the  Wheeler 
Brothers.  They  decided  to  employ  a  guard  to 
convoy  themselves  and  their  gold  out  of  the 
Black    Hills.     The  guards  were  selected   from 


io8 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


old  and  tried  mountaineers  and  frontiersmen, 
who  were  paid  about  2  5dols.  per  day  for  their 
services,  and  accompanied  the  gold  until  the 
railroad  was  reached.  The  Wheelers  had  about 
25o,oocdols.  worth  of  gold-dust  to  send,  and 
others,  hearing  that  .they  were  arranging  for  the 
shipment,  decided  to  take  advantage  of  the 
e.xcellent  opportunity  and  ship  with  them.  Thus 
about  5o,ooodols.  more  in  gold-dust  was  placed 
in  charge  of  the  guards,  making  a  grand  total 
of  30o,ooodols. 

Thus  the  Deadwood  Coach  - 
in  song  and  story — came  into 
coach  was  frequently  attacked  and  robbed  by 
the  "road-agents  "  or  Indians,  after  fierce  fights 
with  the  guards.     One  day,   not   many  weeks 


now   famous 
being.      The 


still,  and  stood  waiting  for  a  word  from  the 
driver. 

The  triumphant  Indians  now  came  up  from 
behind  the  coach,  yelling  madly,  and  the  coach 
was  surrounded.  Most  of  the  passengers  were 
paralyzed  with  fright,  and  sat  like  blocks  of 
stone.  Others,  with  more  courage,  attempted 
to  shoot  at  the  dodging  Indians.  It  seemed  to 
be  the  delight  of  the  redskins  to  tease  their 
prisoners.  They  would  ride  up  near  the  coach 
and  fire  directly  at  the  passengers,  care  being 
taken,  seemingly,  that  the  bullets  only  pene- 
trated a  coat  sleeve,  hat,  or  seat  cushion. 

J'inally,  two  of  the  Indians  dismounted  from 
their  ponies  and,  going  up  to  the  horses  on  the 
coach,   cut   them    loose,   and  with  a  wild  yell 


afttr  tlic  r<)a<  h  had  been  started,  it  left 
Cheyenne  in  charge  of  a  famous  driver,  known 
as  "California  Charlie."  A  constant  look-out 
was  kept  en  route  for  Indians.  Custer  City  was 
rca«  hcd  in  safely,  and  on  the  return  trip  every- 
thing went  well  until  the  stage-coach  reached  a 
dry  rreck  bed  a  few  miles  out  of  Custer. 

H»-rp,  without  the  slightest  warning,  a  band  of 
IikIi.iiis.  in  full  war  paint,  sprang  from  ambush 
and  commenced  pouring  in  a  heavy  fire  on  the 
coach.  "California  Charlie"  plied  his  whij) 
vi:'Mr,,iisly  and  lashed  his  horses  into  a  gallop. 
was  a  wild  run  for  a  few  miles,  with  the 
.Si<iu.\  in  hot  pursuit,  whooping  and  firing  at  the 
'""'■•'  ■'-■•'  ^'  ■  '  nly  "Charlie"  dropped 
"''  '  the  boot  of  the  coach 

bullet  having  gone  through   his 
"11       iiic  iiiKhtened  horses  came  to  a  sland- 


f.l/a.i-  Fislu-L 


drove  away  the  frightened  animals,  still  with 
their  harness  on.  That  was  the  last  seen  of 
the  poor  horses.  The  passengers  were  com- 
pelled to  walk  back  to  Custer,  while  the  red- 
skins ransacked  the  coach.  A  posse  set  out 
in  pursuit  of  the  Sioux,  but  their  start  had  been 
too  good,  and  they  got  clear  away. 

In  the  year  1877,  '^^^o  parties,  one  from 
Cheyenne  and  the  other  from  Denver,  started 
for  Deadwood  with  the  intention  of  establish- 
ing banks.  Information  of  their  plans  having 
become  public,  the  expeditions  resulted,  as 
might  have  been  expected,  in  another  "  hold- 
up." A  party  of  outlaws,  aided  by  a  noted 
desperado  called  Joel  Collins,  thinking  that  the 
prospective  bankers  would  probably  have  large 
sums  of  money  with  them,  decided  to  stop  the 
coach  and  rob  the  men. 


THE    DEADWOOl)    COACH. 


109 


Shortly  before  the  appointed  time  the  des- 
peradoes left  Dcadwood  and  proceeded  to  a 
point  about  three  miles  south  of  the  town,  near 
the  present  location  of  the  town  of  Pluma. 
The  driver  of  the  incoming  Deadwood  Coach 
was  a  man  named  "Johnnie  "'  Slaughter,  who 
was  universally  beloved  and  respected  by  those 
who  knew  him. 

Upon  the  arrival  of  the  coach  at  the  rendez- 
vous of  the  desperadoes  they  made  their 
appearance  and  ordered  Slaughter  to  stop. 
The  driver  apparently  did  not  understand  the 
order  to  halt,  and  paid  no  attention  to  it.  One 
of  the  "  road-agents  "  immediately  opened  fire 
on  him  with  a  shot-gun,  shooting  him  through 
the  heart  and  killing  him  instantly.  A  passen- 
ger who  was  seated  beside  the  driver  was  also 
wounded  by  some  of  the  buckshot.  The 
horses  became  frightened  by  the  shooting, 
and  started  on  a  wild  run  for  Deadwood,  but 
the  coach  was  riddled  with  bullets  before  it 
got  beyond  range  of  the  "road-agents'"  firearms. 
The  bafiled  outlaws  got  nothing  for  their  pains, 
as  they  did  not  dare  to 
pursue  the  vehicle  into 
Deadwood.  So  untir- 
ing, however,  were  the 
authorities  in  their  efforts 
to  bring  the  highwaymen 
to  justice,  that  the  man 
who  shot  the  driver  was 
ultimately  apprehended 
in  Ohio,  where  he  had 
flown  in  the  hope  of 
escaping  the  penalty  of 
his  crime.  Joel  Collins, 
the  leader  in  this  affair, 
afterwards  robbed  the 
Union  Pacific  Railroad  of 
6o,ooodols.  in  gold  coin 
at  Big  Springs,  Neb., 
and  was  killed  by  law 
officers  while  attempting 
to  escape  with  the  booty. 

The  Deadwood  Coach 
was  " held -up"and  robbed 
so  frequently  that  finally, 
as  a  last  resort,  it  was 
covered  with  sheet-iron 
to  keep  out  the  bullets. 
The  coach  then  went 
over  the  route  once  a 
week,  five  picked  men, 
all  heavily  armed,  under 
the  charge  of  Scott 
Davis,  chief  messenger, 
acting  as  escort  on  these 
perilous  trips.  The  coach 
was  christened  "Johnnie 


Slaughter  "  in  honour  of  the  driver  who  had 
previously  been  killed  in  the  "  hold-up "  near 
Deadwood. 

The  armoured  Deadwood  Coach  made  several 
trips  without  an  attempt  being  made  to  "  hold- 
up "  and  rob  it.  But  it  was  simply  the  calm 
before  the  storm,  which  resulted  in  a  typical 
"  hold-up." 

One  day  in  1878  the  coach  drove  up  as 
usual  to  the  stage-station  at  Cold  Springs  to 
change  horses.  Everything  about  ihe  place 
bore  its  accustomed  aspect.  The  horses  were 
halted,  the  driver  threw  his  reins  to  the  ground, 
and  those  on  the  coach  were  preparing  to  dis- 
mount and  enter  the  station,  when  suddenly, 
from  the  door  of  the  adjacent  stable,  the  report 
of  firearms  rang  out,  and  a  deadly  hail  of 
bullets  hurtled  about  the  coach. 

Campbell,  a  telegraph  operator  who  was 
riding  on  the  coach,  was  killed  by  the  volley. 
Gale  Hill,  one  of  the  escort,  was  also  hit  and 
badly  wounded.  Scott  Davis,  the  chief  mes- 
senger, took   in  the  situation  at  a  glance,  and 


HE  I'KO.Ml'TLV  Ol'ENF.I) 


IIKE  ON  IME  IIVE  MKN  WHO  HAU  'llEl.D-fP'  TUB  COACH.' 


no 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


jumped  to  the  ground  at  the  opposite  side  of 
the  coach  from  where  the  "  road-agents  "  were 
concealed.  He  succeeded  in  reaching  some 
heavy  timber  near  at  hand  and,  when  under 
cover,  promptly  opened  fire  on  the  five  men 
who  had  "  held-up  "  the  coach. 

So  untiring  was  he  in  "  sniping  "  the  robbers 
that  at  last  one  or  two  of  them,  having  captured 
"  Big  Gene,"  the  driver,  placed  him  in  front  of 
them  as  a  protection,  and  compelled  him  to 
walk  toward  the  spot  where  Davis  was  concealed. 
When  within  hail- 
ing distance  they 
[)revailed  upon 
the  messenger  to 
cease  firing, 
threatening  to  kill 
the  driver  if  he 
did  not. 

Realizing  that 
the  life  of  the 
driver  was  at 
stake  should  he 
continue  his  fire, 
Davis  ceased, 
and,  although  he 
had  been  severely 
wounded  by  the 
first  volley  from 
the  guns  of  the 
robbers,  at  once 
started  for  the 
nearest  stage- 
station  for  assist- 
ance. He  was 
compensated  in  a 
measure  for  his 
sorry  plight  by 
the  fact  that  he 
had  seriously 
wounded  one  of 
the  robbers. 

After    he    had 
'  firing  and 

,       -d  from  ihe 
sf>oi,  the  four  un 
injured    robbers 
compelled     the 
driver   to   take   a 

'•    and     break    open    the    treasure- box. 
the    whole    proceeding,   and    until    the 


action  would  have  had  no  good  result,  but 
would  certainly  have  been  the  signal  for  his 
own  death. 

He  preferred,  therefore,  to  feign  death,  and 
thus  be  in  a  position  to  secure  much  informa- 
tion that  would  prove  valuable  when  the  in- 
evitable pursuit  of  the  robbers  was  commenced. 

When  they  had  ransacked  the  treasure-box 
the  outlaws,  after  first  pinioning  the  driver  to  a 
wheel  of  the  coach,  mounted  their  horses  and 
departed,  leaving  their  wounded  comrade  where 

he  had  fallen. 


It  was  then  dis- 

covered   that 

the 

outlaws  had, 

pre- 

V  1  o  u  s     to 

t  h  e 

arrival    of 

the 

coach,  taken 

pos- 

session    of 

the 

stage-station 

and 

of      Ih 


45 


"  road  -  agents  "    with    the 
>ld   which    the    treasure -box 
ids  was  stretched  at  full 

'  h,  |)retending  to 

lis  part  tliat  not 

ruth  appeared  to  enter 

' '         "1  knew  that 

agents"   his 


concealed  them- 
selves until  the 
treasure  -  coach 
arrived,  with  the 
result  related. 
The  horse-keepers 
had  been  strongly 
bound,  gagged, 
and  placed  in  a 
secure  spot  to 
prevent  them 
giving  the  alarm. 

The  names  of 
the  five  despera- 
does concerned 
in  this  daring 
robbery  were 
Blackburn,  Wall, 
Brooks,  "Red 
Head  Mike,"  and 
Price,  all  of  whom 
for  several  years 
proved  them- 
selves terrors  to 
the  law  -  abiding 
pioneers  of  the 
new  gold-fields. 

After  the 
"hold-up"  of 
the  treasure-coach  the  ofiicers  of  the  law  got 
on  their  trail  without  delay,  and  followed  it 
until  nearly  all  of  the  robbers  were  captured 
and  most  of  the  stolen  treasure  recovered. 
So  persistent  were  the  olificers  that  one  of 
the  men  was  chased  the  entire  distance  to 
Missouri  Valley,  Iowa,  and  there  captured. 
The  vigorous  measures  adopted  by  the  officers 
furnished  an  example  which  had  a  somewhat 
salutary   effect    on    the    "road-agents,"  and    no 


luvvA,  a;.li  intuii  cai tukku." 


THE    DEAD  WOOD    COACi: 


1 1 1 


further  attempt  was  ever  made  to  'Miold  up" 
a  coacli  on  this  route. 

The  use  of  the  armour-plate  was  afterwards 
discarded,  and  thereafter,  until  the  construction 
of  railroads  into  the  region,  the  gold  was  again 
sliipped  from  the  IJIack  Hills  by  the  ordinary 
coach. 

Since  the  building  of  railroads  into  the 
Black  Hills,  all  tlie  gold  bullion  has  been  sent 


Sometmics  the  bricks  vary  in  size,  some  of 
ihem  weighing  as  much  as  1401b.  The  cus- 
tomary practice  is  fur  the  messengers  to  receive 
the  bullion  at  the  offices  of  the  mining  com- 
panies, where  a  receipt  is  given  for  it.  It  is 
then  taken,  under  an  armed  guard,  to  the  office 
of  the  express  company  by  whom  it  is  to  be 
forwarded. 

I'rom    there,    after    being    securely  wrapped. 


ONE   OF    THE    WELLS    FARGO    EXPRESSES — THE    FIVE   GOLD    BRICKS    IT   CO.NTAIXS    ARE   V.\LL'ED   AT   223,OO0DOL£. 

From  a  Photo. 


out  by  rail,  but  messengers  are  still  employed 
to  guard  the  gold  until  the  more  populous 
sections  are  reached,  in  case  anyone  might  feel 
inclined  to  try  his  hand  at  train-wrecking. 
One-  of  the  best-known  messengers  of  the  pre- 
sent day  is  Richard  Bullock,  who  guards  the 
bullion  shipped  from  the  great  Homestake  mine, 
which,  up  to  date,  has  paid  dividends  amounting 
to  about  io,ooo,ooodols. 

The  shipments  during  the  present  time  are 
usually  made  three  times  each  month.  The 
gold  is  moulded  into  bricks  about  loin.  in 
length,     6in.     wide,    and     5in.     in     thickness. 


sealed,  and  placed  in  a  treasure-bo.\,  it  is  taken, 
again  under  an  armed  guard,  to  the  raihvay 
station,  and  placed  in  the  express  car.  The 
messenger,  armed  with  a  Winchester  repeating 
shot-gun  loaded  with  buckshot,  and  a  Coil's 
six-shooter,  accomixinies  the  bullion  until  it 
reaches  a  place  of  safety.  On  several  occasions 
cases  have  been  known  where  messengers  have 
guarded  the  bullion  as  far  as  Omaha  or  Kansas 
City.  But  although  these  men  have  an  onerous 
and  responsible  task,  it  is  safe  to  say  that  their 
journeys  are  seldom  so  exciting  as  those  of  their 
predecessor,  the  old  Deadwood  Coach. 


The  Man=Eaters  of  Tsavo. 

THE    LIONS    THAT    STOPPED    A    RAILWAY. 

BV    LlKUT.-COLONEL    J.     H.     PATTERSON,    D.S.O. 

This  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  Hon  stories  on  record.  Colonel  Patterson  describes  how  two 
man-eating  lions  established  a  veritable  reign  of  terror  at  the  railhead  construction  camps  of  the 
Uganda  Railway.  For  three  weeks  the  savage  beasts  kept  several  hundred  men  in  a  state  of 
helpless  panic,  entirely  stopping  the  progress  of  the  railway.  Men  were  dragged  out  of  their  tents 
and  eaten  almost  nightly,  and  no  one's  life  seemed  safe.  Countless  traps  were  laid  for  the  lions; 
they  were  fired  at  aga  n  and  again;  a  Government  reward  was  offered  for  their  destruction,  yet 
they  escaped  unharmed.  At  last,  however,  after  numerous  attempts,  Colonel  Patterson  was 
fortunate  enough  to  kill  both  the  man-eaters,  and  with  their  death  work  on  the  railway  was 
resumed.     The  interest  of  the  narrative  is  heightened  by  a  number  of  photographs. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE   DE.\TH    OF   THE    FIRST   MAN-EATER. 

lEW  days  after  Farciuhar's  depar- 
ture, as  I  was  leaving  my  i>o»ia 
soon  after  daylight  one  morning 
(December  9th,  1898),  I  saw  an 
excited  Swahili  running  towards  me. 
He  kept  turning  round  as  he  ran,  crying, 
Simba,  Simba  I  "  ( "  Lion,  Lion  !  ").  On  interro- 
gating hmi,  I  found  that  the  lions  had  tried  to 
snatch  a  man  from  a  camp  by  the  riser,  and, 
failing  in  this,  had  killed  a  donkey.  They  were 
eating  it  at  that  moment  not  far  away. 

Now  was  my  chance  '  I  rushed  for  the  heavy 
rifle  which  Larquhar  had  kindly  left  with  me 
liould  an  occasion  like  this  arise.  Led  by  the 
.Nwahili,  I  carefully  stalked  the  feeding  lions. 
I  was  getting  along  beautifully,  and  could  just 
make  out  the  outline  of  one  of  them  through 
the  bushes,  when  my  guide  unfortunately 
snapped  a  rotten  branch.  The  lion  heard  it, 
growled,  and  retreated  into  a  patch  of  thick 
jungle  clo.se  by. 

1   feared  that  he  would  escape  once  again, 


so  I  arranged  for  the  men  to  bring  with  them 
all  the  tom-toms,  tin  cans,  and  other  noisy 
instruments  that  could  be  found  in  camp.  I 
then  posted  them  quietly  in  a  half-circle  round  the 
thicket,  and  gave  the  head  jemidar  instructions 
to  have  a  simultaneous  din  raised  directly  I  had 
got  behind  the  thicket.  My  position  was  a 
most  likely  one  for  the  lion  to  retire  past — a 
broad  animal  path  leading  straight  from  where 
he  was  lying  concealed. 

I  knelt  behind  a  small  ant-hill  and  waited 
expectantly.  Soon  a  tremendous  noise  was  raised 
by  the  advancing  line  of  coolies,  and,  to  my 
great  joy,  out  into  the  open  path  stepped  a  huge, 
maneless  lion.  It  was  the  first  time  during  all 
those  trying  months  that  I  had  had  a  fair  chance 
at  one  of  these  terrible  brutes,  and  the  satisfac- 
tion I  experienced  at  the  prospect  of  bagging 
him  was  unbounded.  He  advanced  slowly 
along  the  path,  stopping  every  now  and  then  to 
look  round.  I  was  not  fully  concealed,  and  if 
he  had  not  been  so  much  occupied  wilh  the 
noise  behind  him  he  must  have  observed  me. 

I  let  him  approach  withm  about  fifteen  yards 


./;. 


/^^^^cr^^' 


■-'■  V 


'  HE  TtlHEW    IMMSKLf   BACK   O.N    HIS   llAUNCHbS   AND   SNAKl.KD   SAVAGELY. 


THE  MAN  -  EATERS  OF  TSAVO. 


"3 


and  tlien  covered  him  with  my  rifle.  The 
moment  I  moved  he  saw  me.  He  appeared 
very  much  startled  by  my  sudden  ap{)earance, 
for  he  stuck  his  fore-feet  into  the  ground,  threw 
himself  back  on  his  haunches,  and  snarled 
savagelv.  I  felt  as  I  covered  his  brain  that 
I  had  him  absolutely  at  my  mercy — but  never 
trust  an  untried  gun  !  I  pulled  the  trigger,  and, 
to  my  horror,  heard  the  dull  snap  that  tells  of  a 
missfire. 

I  was  so  disconcerted  at  this  untoward 
accident  that  I  forgot  all  about  firing  the  left 
barrel,  and,  with  the  intention  of  reloading, 
lowered  the  rifle  from  my  shoulder.  Fortu- 
nately, however,  the  lion,  instead  of  bounding 
on  to  me,  as  might  have  been  expected,  sprang 
aside  into  the  bush.  I  fired  the  left  barrel  at 
him  as  he  did  so,  and  an  answering  angry  growl 
told  me  that  I  had  hit  him.  However,  he 
made  good  his  escape  once  more.  I  bitterly 
anathematized  the  hour  I  had  trusted  to  a 
borrowed  weapon,  and  in  my  chagrin  abused 
owner,  maker,  and  gun  with  fine  impartiality. 

My  continued  ill-luck  was  most  exasperating. 
The  Indians,  of  course,  were  further  confirmed 
in  their  belief  that  the  lions  were  evil  spirits, 
proof  against  mortal  weapons — and,  indeed,  the 
brutes  seemed  to  bear  a  charmed  life.  On 
extracting  the  unexploded  cartridge  I  found 
that  the  needle  had  not  struck  home,  as  the  cap 
was  only  slightly  dinted,  so  the  fault  lay  with 
the  rifle,  which  I  returned  with  mild  compli- 
ments to  Farquhar. 

I  tried  to  track  the  beast  I  had  wounded,  but 
could  not  keep  the  trail,  as  there  was  no  blood 
on  the  rocks  to  give  a  clue  which  way  he  had 
gone.  I  returned  to  look  at  the  dead  donkey, 
which  I  found  only  slightly  eaten  at  the  quarters. 
Lions  always  begin  at  the  tail  of  an  animal, 
and  eat  up  towards  the  head.  It  was  practically 
certain  that  one  or  other  of  the  brutes  would 
return  at  night  to  finish  the  meal.  There  was 
no  tree  of  any  size  near,  so  within  ten  yards  of 
the  dead  donkey  I  had  a  staging  made  about 
12ft.  high,  consisting  of  four  poles,  with  their 
ends  fixed  in  the  ground.  They  inclined 
towards  each  other  at  the  top,  and  here  a 
plank  was  lashed  for  me  to  sit  on.  As  the 
nights  were  still  dark,  I  had  the  donkey's  body 
secured  by  strong  wires  to  a  convenient  stum|), 
for  I  did  not  want  it  dragged  away  before  1 
could  get  a  shot  at  the  brutes. 

At  sundown  I  got  up  on  my  airy  perch. 
Much  to  the  disgust  of  my  gun-bearer,  Mahina, 
I  went  alone.  I  would  have  taken  him,  only  he 
had  a  bad  cough,  and  I  feared  lest  any  noise  or 
movement  should  spoil  everything.  Darkness 
fell  almost  immediately,  and  everything  became 
wonderfully   still.     The   silence   of   an  African 

Vol.  x.-l.l. 


jungle  at  this  time  is  most  impressive,  especially 
when  one  is  alone  and  isolated  from  his  kind. 
The  solitude  and  silence,  and  the  errand  I  was 
on,  all  had  their  effect  on  me,  and  from  a 
condition  of  strained  expectancy  I  fell  into  a 
dreamy  mood,  which  harmonized  well  with  my 
surroundings. 

I  was  startled  out  of  the  reverie  into  wliich  I 
had  fallen  by  the  sudden  snapping  of  a  twig, 
and,  straining  my  ears,  I  heard  the  rustling  of  a 
large  body  forcing  a  way  through  the  bushes. 
"  The  lion  !  "  I  whispered  to  myself,  and  my 
heart  gave  a  great  bound.  "  Surely  to-night 
my  luck  will  change  and  I  shall  bag  one  of  the 
brutes."  Such  were  my  thoughts  during  the 
intense  stillness  that  had  again  fallen  after 
the  breaking  of  the  twig. 

I  sat  on  my  eyrie  like  a  statue  and  waited, 
every  nerve  tense  with  excitement.  Soon  all 
doubt  as  to  the  presence  of  the  brute  was  dis- 
pelled. A  deep,  long-drawn  sigh — sure  sign  of 
hunger  in  a  lion — came  up  from  the  bushes,  and 
the  rustling  commenced  again  as  he  advanced. 

A  sudden  stop,  followed  by  an  angry  growl, 
told  that  he  had  spied  me,  and  I  began  to  think 
that  disappointment  awaited  me  once  more. 
Matters  soon  took  a  different  turn,  however,  for 
the  lion,  instead  of  making  for  the  bait  prepared 
for  him,  began  to  stalk  me!  For  about  two 
hours  he  horrified  me  by  slowly  creeping  round 
and  round  my  crazy  structure,  gradually  drawing 
closer.  I  feared  that  he  would  rush  it — and  my 
post  had  not  been  constructed  with  an  eye  to 
this  possibility.  If  one  of  the  rather  flimsy 
poles  broke,  or  if  lie  could  spring  the  12ft. — 
ugh  !  the  thought  was  not  a  pleasant  one.  I 
began  to  feel  distinctly  creepy,  and  heartily 
cursed  my  folly  for  placing  myself  in  such  a 
hazardous  position.  I  kept  perfectly  still,  how- 
ever, hardly  daring  to  blink  my  eyes.  Down 
below  in  the  gloom  I  could  faintly  make 
out  the  body  of  the  dead  donkey.  The  long- 
continued  strain  was  beginning  to  tell  upon  my 
ner\es  ;  so  my  feelings  may  be  imagined  when, 
about  midnight,  I  suddenly  felt  something  come 
flop  and  hit  me  on  the  back  of  the  head  !  I 
was  thoroughly  terrifcd  for  a  moment  and 
almost  fell  off  my  plank.  1  thought  it  was  the 
lion  that  had  sprung  at  me  from  behind  !  A 
moment  afterwards,  however,  I  realized  that  1 
had  been  struck  by  an  owl,  which,  no  doubt, 
had  taken  me  for  a  branch  of  a  tree.  It  was 
not  a  very  alarming  thing  to  happen,  I  admit, 
but,  coming  at  the  time  it  did,  it  almost 
paralyzed  me.  I  could  not  help  giving  an 
involuntary  start,  and  this  was  at  once  answered 
by  a  sinister  growl  from  below.  I  kept  abso- 
lutely still  again  after  this,  though  I  was  actually 
trembling  with  excitement.     1  had  not  long  to 


114 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


wait  this  time,  as  the  lion  now  began  to  creep 
noiselessly  up  towards  me.  I  could  barely 
make  out  his  form  as  he  crouched  among  the 
whitish  yellow  undergrowth.  Still  I  saw  enough 
for  my  purpose,  and  before  he  could  get  any 
nearer  I  took  careful  aim  and  put  a  bullet 
through  his  heart. 

He  gave  a  most  terrific  roar  and  leaped  and 
sprang  about  in  all  directions.  I  could  not  see 
him,  as  his  first  bound  had  taken  him  out  of  my 
'iight  into  the  thick  bush,  but  I  kept  blazing 
away  in  the  direction  of  the  uproar.  Then  I 
heard  him  give  a  series  of  mighty  groans, 
gradually  subsiding  into  deep  sighs  and  then 
ceasing  altogether,  and  I  knew  that  one  of  the 
"  devils  "  who  had  so  long  harassed  us  was  dead 
:it  last. 

As  soon  as  I  ceased  firing  a  tumult  of  in- 
quiring voices  came  across  the  dark  jungle  from 
the  men  in  camp  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
awav.     I  shouted  back  that  I  was  safe,  and  that 


/'"KVINi:   UK   IN   TRIUMIH    ROUND  THE   DODY." 


the  lion  was  dead.  Then  such  a  mighty  cheer 
went  up  from  all  the  camps  as  must  have  made 
the  wild  beasts  of  the  woods  for  miles  around 
tremble.  In  a  very  short  time  I  saw  scores  of 
lights  twinkling  through  the  bushes.  Every 
man  in  camp  turned  out  and  came  running  and 
shouting  towards  me,  the  crowd  raising  a  fearful 
din  by  playing  tom-toms  and  blowing  horns. 
There  was  a  race  as  to  who  should  reach  me 
first.  As  soon  as  they  got  up  they  sur- 
rounded me,  and  I  was  astonished  by  their 
prostrating  themselves  before  me,  putting  their 
hands  on  my  feet,  and  crying  "  Maharack ! " 
which,  I  believe,  means  "  Blessed  one."  This 
was  in  token  of  their  gratitude. 

I  would  allow  no  one  to  look  for  the  body 
of  the  dead  lion  that  night  in  case  the  other 
might  be  close  by.  Besides,  it  was  possible 
that  he  might  be  still  breathing  and  capable  of 
making  a  last  sprmg,  so  we  all  returned  to 
camp,  where  there  was  great  rejoicing  all  night 

long.  The  Swahili  and 
other  Africans  from 
the  far  interior  had  a 
specially  savage  dance, 
accompanied  by  a  weird 
chant,  to  celebrate  the 
great  event. 

I  anxiously  awaited 
dawn,  and  even  before 
it  was  thoroughly  light 
I  was  on  ni)'  way  to 
the  spot.  After  play- 
ing me  many  a  shabby 
trick  my  luck  had 
changed  at  last,  for  I 
had  scarcely  traced  the 
blood  for  more  than  a 
few  paces  when  I  saw 
in  front  of  me  a  most 
magnificent  lion,  seem- 
ingly alive  and  ready 
for  a  spring.  On  look- 
ing closer,  however,  I 
saw  that  he  was  stone- 
dead.  He  must  have 
died  as  he  was  in  the 
very  act  of  crouching 
for  a  spring.  Many 
were  the  exclamations 
of  my  followers  at  his 
enormous  size.  A  large 
crowd  gathered  around; 
and  they  laughed  and 
danced  and  shouted 
with  joy,  carrying  me 
in  triumph  round  the 
dead  body. 

After  these  cere- 


THE    MAN-EATERS    OF    TSA\0. 


"5 


monies  were  over  I  examined  my  pri^e  and 
found  two  bullet-holes  in  him.  One  was  close 
behind  the  right  shoulder,  and  had  evidently 
penetrated  the  heart.  'I'he  other  was  in  the  off 
hind  leg.  He  was  a  big  animal,  and  it  took, 
eight  men  to  carry  him  to  cam[)  on  poles.  1 
measured  him  carefully.      His  k-iigth    from   tip 


Towards  morning  the  lion  came,  pounced  on 
one  of  the  goats,  and  carried  the  others  away 
with  him,  rail  and  all.  I  fired  several  shots  in  his 
direction,  but  it  was  too  dark  to  see  anything, 
and  I  only  succeeded  in  hitting  one  of  the  goals. 
The  trail  of  rail  and  goats  was  easily  followed 
next  morning,  and  I  soon  came  up  to  where  the 


From  a 


of  nose  to  tip  of  tail  was  9ft.  8in.,  and  he  stood 
3ft.  9in.  high.  The  skin  was  much  scored  by 
the  boDia  thorns  through  which  the  lion  had  so 
often  forced  his  way  in  carrying  off  his  victims. 

Hundreds  of  people  flocked  from  up  and 
down  the  line  to  see  the  brute  who  had  been 
such  a  notorious  man-eater,  and  telegrams  of 
congratulation  kept  pouring  in. 


CHAPl'ER  V. 

THE  END  OF  THE  REIGN  OF  TERROR. 

Our  troubles  at  Tsavo  were  not  yet  over. 
The  other  lion  was  still  about,  and  he  very  soon 
began  to  make  things  lively.  A  few  nights 
after  his  comrade  was  shot  he  tried  to  get 
at  a  permanent  way  inspector.  This  was  on 
December  17th.  The  brute  climbed  up  the 
steps  of  the  bungalow  and  rambled  round  the 
veranda.  The  permanent-way  inspector,  think- 
ing it  was  some  drunken  man,  shouted  to  him 
angrily  to  go  away.  Luckily,  however,  he  did 
not  come  out  or  open  the  door,  and  the  dis- 
appointed brute,  finding  he  couM  not  get  in, 
killed  a  couple  of  goats  close  by  and  ate  them 
there  and  then. 

The  next  night  I  waited  for  him  iKar  here. 
There  was  an  iron  house  handy  with  a  con- 
venient loophole  in  it,  and  outside  this  I  had  a 
half  length  of  rail  put,  weighing  about  2501b.; 
to  this   I   tied   three   full  grown    goats    as    bait. 


Photo. 


lion  was  still  eating,  some  quarter  of  a  mile 
away.  He  was  concealed  in  some  bushes,  and 
growled  at  us  as  we  approached.  On  getting 
closer  he  made  a  charge,  causing  every  man  of 
the  party  to  fly  hastily  up  the  nearest  tree,  with 
the  exception  of  one  of  my  assistants,  Mr. 
Winkler,  who  stood  steadily  by  me.  The  lion 
did  not  charge  home,  however,  and  on  throwing 
stones  into  the  bushes  we  found  that  he  had 
slunk  off.  One  goat  had  been  eaten  ;  the  other 
two  were,  of  course,  dead,  but  hardly  touched. 

Knowing  that  the  lion  would  in  all  probability 
return  to  finish  his  meal,  1  had  a  very  strong 
scaffolding  put  up  a  few  feet  away,  and  got  into 
it  before  dark.  I  took  Mahina,  my  gun  boy, 
with  me  to  take  a  turn  at  watch,  as  1  was  worn 
out  for  want  of  sleep,  having  spent  most  of  my 
nights  recently  in  waiting  for  the  lions.  1  was 
dozing  off  when  suddenly  I  felt  my  arm  seized, 
and  on  looking  up  saw  Mahina  pointing  to  the 
dead  goats.  '''Sher!"  ("Lion!")  was  all  he 
whis|)ered.  I  grasped  my  double  smooth  bore, 
which  I  had  charged  with  slug,  and  waited. 
The  lion  came  almost  directly  under  us.  I 
fired  both  barrels  practically  together,  and 
could  see  him  go  down  under  the  force  of  the 
blow.  I  reached  for  the  magazine  rifle,  but 
before  I  could  fire  a  shot  the  lion  was  out  of 
siiiht,  and  I  had  to  fire  after  him  at  random 
among  the  scrub. 


ii6 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


I  expected  to  get  him  next  morning,  and  had 
no  difficulty  in  following  the  blood-trail  for  over 
a  mile.  He  rested  several  times,  so  that  I  felt 
<:ure  he  was  badly  hit.  Nevertheless,  my  hunt 
vas  fruitless.  The  drops  of  blood  soon  ceased, 
as  a  lion  constantly  keeps  licking  the  blood 
from  his  wound,  and  I  could  not  follow  the 
spoor  farther  owing  to  the  rocky  nature  of  the 
ground. 

For  about  ten  days  after  this  there  was  no 

sign  of  the  lion,  and  we  all  thought  that  he  had 

led  in  the  bush.     Fortunately,  however,  every 

care  was  still  taken  after  nightfall,  otherwise  he 

would  have  had  at  least  one  more  victim. 

I  was  aroused  one  night — December  27th — 
by  my  trolley-men,   who  slept  in  a  tree  close 
outside  my  camp,  screaming  that  the  lion  was 
trying   to   get   at   them.     It  would  have    been 


sharply,  as  may  be  imagined,  ana  one  of  my 
men  managed  to  dispatch  it. 

The  night  was  cloudless,  and  the  moon  made 
everything  almost  as  bright  as  day.  I  watched 
until  about  2  a.m.,  and  then  roused  Mahina  to 
take  his  turn.  I  slept  with  my  back  to  the 
tree  for  perhaps  an  hour,  and  then  woke  up 
suddenly  with  an  uncanny  feeling.  Mahina  was 
on  the  alert  and  had  seen  nothing.  I  looked 
round,  but  everything  appeared  as  usual.  I 
was  about  to  lie  back  again  when  I  thought  I 
saw  something  move  a  little  way  off.  I  was  not 
mistaken.  It  was  the  lion  cautiously  stalking 
us  ! 

.  The  ground  was  fairly  open  round  our  tree, 
with  only  a  bush  here  and  there.  It  was  a 
fascinating  sight  to  watch  the  lion  going  from 
bush  to  bush,  taking  advantage  of  every  scrap 


IT   WAS   A    FASCINATING    SIGHT  TO   WATCH    THE    LION    GOING    FROM    BUSH    TO    BUSH.  " 


useless  to  go  out,  as  the  moon  was  obscured 
and  it  was  impossible  to  see,  so  I  fired  off  a 
few  rounds  just  to  frighten  him  away.  This  had 
the  desired  effect,  and  he  did  not  molest  the 
m.-n  .-.gain  that  night.  He,  however,  went  right 
into  every  one  of  their  three  tents,  and,  finding 
nothmg  but  a  goat,  killed  and  ate  it.  The  lion's 
footmarks  were  plainly  visible  under  the  trolley- 
men's  tree,  round  which  he  had  made  a  reuular 
ring. 

The  following  night,  December  28th,  i8g8 
believing  it  |)rt)bnble  that  he  would  return,  I 
took  up  my  position  in  this  very  tree.  As  I 
was  climbing  up  I  almost  put  my  hand  on  a 
venomous  snake  that  had  apparently  just 
<^""' '   •" '  hole  in  it.     I  slid  down  pretty 


of  cover  as  he  came.  His  skill  showed  that  he 
was  an  old  hand  at  this  terrible  game  of  man- 
hunting. 

I  waited  until  he  got  quite  close,  say  twenty 
yards,  and  then  fired  my  -303  at  his  chest.  I 
heard  the  bullet  strike  him,  but  it  had  no  knock- 
down effect,  for,  with  a  low  g.owl,  he  instantly 
turned  and  made  off  with  great,  long  bounds. 
I  was  able  to  fire  three  more  shots  at  him  before 
he  was  out  of  sight,  and  another  savage  growl 
told  that  my  last  shot  had  found  him  again. 

^Ve  commenced  tracking  him  at  daylight. 
There  were  three  of  us,  the  tracker  leading,  so 
that  I  had  nothing  to  do  but  keep  my  eyes 
about.  Mahina  followed  with  the  Martini 
carbine.      IJlood    was    plentiful    and    we   could 


I    A 


THE    MAN-EATERS    OF    TSAVO. 


117 


/'''  oji!  a\ 


>ECOND    MAN-EATER  —  HE    WAS    9F T.    DIX.     LON 


follow  briskly.  We  had  not  gone  more  than 
three  hundred  yards  when  suddenly  there  was  a 
fierce  warning  growl,  and  among  the  bushes 
ahead  I  could  see  the  lion  glaring  out  and  show'- 
ing  his  great  tusks.  He  was  at  the  far  side  of  a 
dry  nullah.  I  took  careful  aim  at  his  head  and 
fired,  and  this  instantly  brought  on  a  charge, 
and  a  most  determined  one  it  was.  I  fired 
again  and  knocked  him  over,  but  only  for  a 
second.  He  was  up  in  no  time  and  com- 
ing for  me  again  as  fast  as  he  could.  I  fired 
a  third  shot  without  apparent  result.  This  time 
I  threw  down  my  rifle  and  put  out  my  hand 
mechanically  for  the  Martini,  hoping  to  finish 
him  off  with  it.  To  my  consternation,  however, 
it  was  not  there  !  The  terror  of  the  sudden 
charge  had  proved  too  much  for  Mahina,  and 
both  he  and  the  Martini  were  well  on  their  way 
up  a  tree.  I  lost  no 
time  in  following 
suit,  and,  but  for 
the  fact  that  I  had 
broken  one  of  the 
lion's  hind  legs  as 
he  charged  down  on 
me,  he  would  most 
certainly  have  had 
me.  As  it  was,  I 
had  barely  time  to 
get  out  of  reach 
before  he  arrived  at 
the  foot  of  the  tree. 
He  limped  back 
when  he  found  he 
was  too  late,  but  I 
had  got  the  carbine 
by    this    time,    and 


the  first  shot  I  fired  from 
it  seemed  to  kill  him,  for 
he  fell  over  and  lay  quite 
stilT.  I  came  down  from 
the  tree  and  went  up 
towards  him.  He  was 
not  done  for  yet,  how- 
ever, for  he  jumped  up 
and  came  on  at  me  again. 
.\  Martini  bullet  in  the 
chest  and  another  on  the 
head  finished  him,  and 
he  fell  not  five  yards 
from  me  and  lay  there 
dying,  biting  savagely  at 
a  branch  which  had  fallen 
to  the  ground. 

In  the  meantime  all  my 
workmen  had  arrived  on 
the  scene,  and  so  great 
was  their'  resentment 
against  the  lion  who  had 
killed  so  many  of  their  number  that  it  was  all 
I  could  do  to  keep  them  from  tearing  him  to 
pieces  after  he  was  quite  dead.  I  had  him 
carried  to  my  tent,  which  was  quite  close,  amid 
the  wild  rejoicings  of  both  the  Africans  and 
Indians,  who  claimed  and  received  a  holiday  in 
honour  of  the  event. 

There  were  half-a-dozen  bullet-holes  in  the 
lion's  body.  Considering  his  wounds  he  had 
shown  wonderful  vitality.  He  measured  9ft.  6in. 
from  tip  of  nose  to  tip  of  tail,  and 
1 2  in.  high.  1'  found  in  his  back,  em- 
bedded only  a  little  way  in  the  flesh,  the  slug 
which  I  had  fired  into  him  about  a  week  before. 
When  we  were  skinning  our  old  enemy 
crowds  flocked  to  look  on,  and  many  were 
the  imprecations  heaped  on  him.  The  lion's 
body  was  deeply  scored  all  over  by  the  thorns 


/'/tot.K 


long 

3ft.   wy^wi. 


J-'roii!  a 


IHE    NAIIVES    DANCING    TO    CKI.KI  l-ATE     IMl:    IjEAIII    OK    THE    M A.N-EATEI(. 


iriicto 


Ii8 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


THE    Lr  '  .    .     .     IN     IHE   JU^GL^.  — "A    UAKK    AM)    lK.\i;- 

Frotn  a 

of  the  bomas  through  which  he  used  to  rush 
with  his  victims. 

On  hearing  that  the  second  "  devil "  was 
dead,  all  the  cooHes  who  had  absconded  came 
flocking  back,  and  work,  much  to  my  relief, 
went  on  once  mOie  in  its  usual  way  ;  nor  were 
we  ever  again  molested  by  man-eaters  at  Tsavo. 

I  was  presented  by 
my  workmen  with  a 
beautiful  inscribed 
silver  bowl  as  a  token 
of  their  gratitude,  as 
well  as  with  a  poem 
written  in  Hindustani, 
describing  all  our  trials 
and  my  ultimate 
success.  This  hand- 
some bowl  now  stands 
in  the  Castle  Museum 
at  Norwich,  beside  the 
life-like  mounted  heads 
of  the  once  -  dreaded 
man-eaters,  and  I  shall 
ever  esteem  it  as  my 
greatest  and  hardest-  • 
won  trophy.  A  small 
(iovcrnment  reward 
was  also  given  for  the 
destruction  of  the  man- 
eaters. 

I  had  often  tried  to 
find  the  lions'  den  in 
the  jungle,  but  it  was 


'  <y\v.  CA\  E, 
Photo. 


KUNNINi;    UNDER   SOME   ENORMOUS    KOCKS. 


not  until  a  short  time  after  I  had  shot  them, 
curiously  enough,  that  I  one  day  accidentally 
came  upon  it.  It  was  a  dark  and  fearsome  cave, 
running  under  some  enormous  rocks,  with  a  great 
tree  growing  near  its  entrance.  It  extended  a 
good  way  back,  and  I  did  not  feel  inclined  to 
explore  it.     I  fired  a  few  shots  into  it  through  a 

hole  in  the  top,  but 
nothing  came  out. 
The  smell  of  the  place 
was  terrible.  There 
were  human  bones 
lying  about  and  also 
some  copper  bangles, 
such  as  the  native  of 
Africa  loves  to  wear. 

These  two  brutes  had 
devoured  between  them 
twenty  -  eight  Indian 
coolies,  besides  scores 
of  unfortunate  Africans 
of  whom  no  official 
record  was  kept ! 

In  conclusion,  I 
should  like  to  add — 
for  the  benefit  of  those 
who  may  think  this 
narrative  exaggerated 
—  that  I  have  only 
written  a  plain  and  un- 
varnished account  of 
what  took  place  during 
my  residence  at  Tsavo. 


THE   Sll.VKK    llowi,    ll(Ksl-..\  I  1- I)     I 
AS   A    TOKKN    Ol-    CKATITUDE 

From  a\  museum, 


II     nil:    AUI'IIOH     IIV    Ills  UIIIJKMKN 
—  IT    IS    NOW    IN    Tllli   CASri.F. 
NORWICH.  [P/lolo. 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF   THE    MARQUIS    DE   SEGONZAC. 

By  G.  a.  Raper. 

The  Marquis  de  Segonzac  is  an  officer  in  the  French  army,  and  has  recently  returned  to  Paris 
after  a  most  important  series  of  journeys  through  the  little-known  interior  of  Morocco,  venturing 
into  districts  where  no  European  has  hitherto  penetrated.  The  Marquis  disguised  himself  as  a 
Moor,  concealing  his  camera  and  scientific  instruments  under  his  clothes,  and  practically  carried 
his  life  in  his  hand  throughout  the  whole  of  his  explorations.  He  met  with  several  exciting 
adventures,    took   a   large    number   of    interesting   photographs,    and    brought    back    more    information 

about    the   interior   of    Morocco    than    any  previous   explorer. 


Y  far  the  most  important  and  inter- 
esting subject  brought  before  the 
Geographical  Congress  at  Gran, 
Algeria,  in  the  spring  was  the  mass 
of  notes,  observations,  maps,  and 
photographs  collected  by  a  young  French  officer, 
the  Marquis  de  Segonzac,  as  the  fruit  of  three 
journeys  effected  by  him  in  Morocco.  The 
interior  of  that  country,  as  everyone  knows,  is 
one  of  the  most  difficult  in  the  world  to  explore. 
The  Sultan  really  rules  over  only  one-fourth  of 
the  population,  and  cannot  even  travel  between 
his  two  capitals,  Marrakesh  and  Fez,  without 
making  a  wide  detour  to  avoid  being  attacked 
by  his  loving  subjects  in  the  valleys  of  the 
Atlas. 

In  the  Bled-el-Maghzen,  or  territory  in  which 
the  Sultan's  authority  is  recognised,  Europeans 
are  protected  and  can  go  about  without  conceal- 
ment ;  but  in  the  Bled-es-Siba  ("abandoned 
country  "),  constituting  about  five-sixths  of  the 
country  called  Morocco  by  geographers,  the 
tribes  pay  no  taxes,  furnish  no  men  for  military 
service,  are  frequently  at  war  with  one  another, 
and  agree  only  in  hatred  of  the  roumi,  or  white 
man,  partly  because  he  is  an  infidel  and  partly 
because  it  is  supposed — and  not  always  wrongly 
— that  he  has  come  to  spy  out  the  land  with 


a  view  to  conquest.  The  Rififians,  one  of  these 
independent  tribes,  are  notorious  brigands  and 
pirates,  who  never  hesitate  to  cut  the  throats 
and  sack  the  ships  of  any  mariners  unlucky 
enough  to  be  cast  on  that  inhospitable  coast ; 
and  the  Berbers  of  the  interior  are  scarcely  less 
ferocious.  In  consequence,  very  few  Europeans 
have  ever  made  their  way  into  the  mountains  of 
the  Riff,  the  great  Atlas  range,  or  the  plains  and 
steppes  beyond,  and  our  knowledge  of  these 
regions  is  decidedly  scanty. 

The  Marquis  de  Segonzac,  emulating  his 
great  predecessor  De  Foucaulcl,  who  explored 
Morocco  in  the  garb  of  a  despised  Jew,  dis- 
guised himself  as  an  Arab,  and  not  only 
travelled  through  many  hitherto  unknown 
regions,  but  brought  back  much  information  of 
the  greatest  value.  No  traveller,  in  fact,  has 
ever  collected  so  much  information  of  value 
concerning  the  little-known  interior  of  his 
Shereefian  Majesty's  dominions.  Moreover,  he 
obtained  an  interesting  series  of  photographs-  - 
taken  at  great  personal  risk  — to  illustrate  his 
descriptions.  Passing  as  a  Mohammedan,  the 
Marquis  came  and  went  almost  as  he  pleased, 
sleeping  in  the  mosques  and  eating  with  the 
followers  of  the  Prophet.  The  Marquis  thus 
recounts  his  experiences  : — 


I20 


THE   WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


I  began  my  first  journey  towards  the  end  of 
the  year  1899,  starting  from  Casablanca,  on  the 
Atlantic    coast.     From    this    point    as    far 


as 


Marrakesh,  150  miles  to  the  south,  I  had  a 
companion  of  my  own  nationality,  but  after 
leaving  the  capital  to  go  south  I  was  accom- 
panied only  by  a  native  muleteer.  He  knew, 
of  course,  that  I  was  a  Frenchman  and  a 
Christian,  but  he  kept  the  secret  and  did  his 
duty  well  from  first  to  last. 

I  had  decided  to  represent  myself  as  one  of 
the  traders  who  wander  almost  empty-handed 
over  this  part  of  the  country  to  find  out  the 
kinds  of  articles  required, 
which  they  afterwards 
bring  in  caravans.     As  a 
traveller   of    this    type    I 
could  reduce  my  baggage 
to   very    modest    propor- 
tions, and  thus  offer  little 
temptation  to  robbers.     I 
also  knew  that  no  suspi- 
cion would  be  caused  if 
I  did  not  open  my  pack 
and  attempt  to  trade.    To 
show  my  belongings  was, 
of  course,    the    very  last 
thing  I  was  anxious  to  do. 
'i'hey    included    a    small 
revolver — which    I    could 
not  carry  concealed  about 
my    person,    for    fear    of 
disturbing  my  compass  — 
and    some    scientific   in- 
struments—rather curious 
goods    for     a     supposed 
trader  to  be  hawking  round 
in  the  interior  of  Morocco. 
I  had  made  up  my  mind 

that  if  any  awkward  questions  were  asked  about 
these  things  I  would  feign  ignorance  of  their 
nature,  and  say  I  was  merely  conveying  them 
from  one  chief  to  another.  "  If  you  steal 
them,"  I  should  have  added,  "you  will  have  to 
account  for  them  to  Allah."  I  do  not  know 
whether  this  would  have  saved  my  life  if  any 
suspicious  fanatic  had  pried  into  my  baggage, 
but,  fortunately,  no  one  did  so,  and  my  inven- 
tive powers  were  not  put  to  the  test. 

All  our  luggage  was  carried  by  two  mule.s, 
and  we  walked.  Of  course,  it  would  have  been 
more  comfortable  to  ride,  but  only  imi)ortant 
personages  travel  in  this  way  in  Morocco,  and 
it  was  absolutely  necessary  for  me  to  avoid 
attracting  attention.  I  was  dressed  as  an 
ordinary  Moor,  and,  as  my  picture  shows,  had 
managed  to  acquire  a  very  tolerable  scowl. 
This,  curiously  enough,  was  very  necessary,  for 
all  the  natives  get  a  trick  of  knitting  their  brows 


IHK    MAK-QUIS    UK    SKGU.N/AC    IN      I  11 K     MiHjKl^ll      DlSl.l  IMC     HE 

From  a\  wore  during  his  travels.  [Photo. 


to  keep  out  the  strong  sunlight,  and  this  has 
a  good  deal  to  do  with  the  traditionally  ferocious 
look  of  the  Moor.  My  outer  garment  was  a 
sort  of  loose  woollen  smock  called  a  "  jellab," 
having  a  vertical  opening  over  the  chest.  Be- 
neath the  "jellab"  I  carried  some  precious 
instruments.  My  kodak  was  slung  at  my  side 
on  a  red  and  green  Moorish  cord  passing  over 
the  shoulder,  so  that  anyone  who  chanced  to 
look  under  my  smock  would  suppose  that  the 
cord  was  used  to  suspend  a  knife,  water-bottle, 
or  some  other  ordinary  article.  On  the  other 
side,  and  slung  in  the  same  way,  I  had  a  small 

wooden  hinged  case, 
opening  and  shutting  like 
a  reporter's  note  -  book, 
and  containing  an  aneroid 
thermometer,  watch,  and 
compass,  all  fixed  close 
together,  so  that  I  could 
read  them  at  a  glance  by 
looking  down  through  the 
slit  in  my  "jellab." 

Unless  I  was  quite  sure 
no  one  was  looking,  I 
made  all  my  sketches  and 
notes  of  the  road  under 
this  useful  garment.  This 
I  did  about  every  quarter 
of  an  hour,  jotting  down 
the  time,  compass  bear- 
ings, barometric  level, 
temperature,  approximate 
rate  of  progress,  and  rough 
plan  of  the  country  to  the 
right  and  left  in  a  note- 
book which  I  had  pre- 
viously prepared.  On  the 
right-hand  page  were 
ruled  columns  for  the  various  figures,  with  a 
margin  in  which  I  drew  a  circle  for  every  snap- 
shot, or  put  down  any  remarks  that  were  likely 
to  be  useful  in  subsequent  map-drawing.  On 
the  left-hand  page  I  made  my  sketches.  As 
soon  as  I  got  an  opportunity,  I  went  over  the 
notes  with  my  stylograph  pen,  in  case  the  pencil 
marks  should  rub  out. 

I  was  not  altogether  free  from  anxiety  when  I 
found  myself  fairly  started  on  my  journey,  with 
the  distance  between  me  and  Marrakesh  steadily 
increasing,  and  with  the  knowledge  that  my  life 
dei)ended  upon  my  own  resource.  I  had  every 
confidence  in  my  get-up,  but,  fascinating  as  it  is 
to  play  an  adventurous  part,  I  could  not  help 
reflecting  that  a  breakdown  was  likely  to  have 
extremely  unpleasant  consequences.  I  did  not 
at  first  relish  the  idea  of  being  brought  into 
close  quarters  with  the  natives,  and  for  this 
reason  we  camped  out  for  the  first  few  nights. 


tiiruuc;h   unknown    morocco. 


I  2  I 


but  my  hesitation  soon  wore  off,  however,  and 
throughout  the  rest  of  the  trip  wc  regularly  took 
up  our  quarters  in  the  mosque,  just  as  other 
travellers  did.  The  temple  of  religion,  by  the 
way,  is  the  only  substitute  for  an  inn  to  be 
found  in  Moorish  villages.  Everyone  cooks, 
eats,  and  sleeps  within  its  walls  without  .  the 
smallest  thought  of  sacrilege.  I  have  often 
written  up  my  diary  by  the  dim  light  of  a  smoky 
lamp  in  the  common  room  of  a  mosc|ue,  with 
snoring  believers  all  around  me. 

After  the  novelty  of  the  situation  had  [massed 
away  I   began  to  find  the  journey  somewhat  un- 


Following  the  counie  of  the  Nefis,  we  reached 
the  (loundafi  Pass,  by  which  I  hoped  to  cross 
the  (Ireat  Atlas.  'I"o  my  disgust  I  found  that 
the  house  of  the  caid,  or  chief,  was  built  right 
in  the  middle  of  the  pass,  so  that  it  would  have 
been  impossible  to  get  through  unobserved. 
Putting  on  a  bold  front,  I  walked  in  and  re- 
quested the  caid  for  leave  to  go  on. 

He  looked  at  me  without  showing  any  sur- 
prise, and  asked  :  — 

"  Where  art  thou  going?  " 

"  To  the  south,"  1  replied. 

"  It  is  not  safe  for  thee  here,"  he  said.     "  1 


SNORING    liEI.IEVERS    ALL   AROUND    ME. 


eventful,  apart,  of  course,  from  my  surveying, 
which  gave  me  plenty  to  do.  W'e  imitated  the 
natives,  who  are  never  in  a  hurry,  by  not  start- 
ing until  the  morning  was  fairly  well  advanced, 
and  wc  usually  trudged  on,  with  a  short  halt  in 
the  middle  of  the  day,  until  about  five  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon,  or  until  we  reached  the  village 
which  was  to  be  our  resting-place  for  the  night. 
Our  pace  was  seldom  more  than  two  miles  an 
hour.  The  roads,  of  course,  were  mere  tracks  ; 
there  is  no  macadam  in  Morocco.  The  land 
was,  on  the  whole,  fertile  and  well  cultivated, 
and  we  were  continually  coming  across  streams 
of  beautifully  cold  water,  evidently  fed  by  the 
torrents  from  the  Atlas.  The  mountain  passes, 
when  we  reached  them,  proved  t(j  be  well 
wooded. 

Vol.  X.     16. 


will  give  thee  a  guide  who  will  take  thee  back 
to  Marrakesh." 

I  intimated  that  I  had  no  desire  to  return  by 
the  way  I  had  come,  but  he  would  not  listen. 
He  calletl  one  of  his  men,  ordered  him  to 
take  me  to  Marrakesh,  and  politely  but  firmly 
dismis-sed  me.  There  being  no  help  for  it, 
we  turned  northwards  again,  but  when  we  had 
got  through  the  Tiiiesk  I'ass  and  come  to  the 
road  leading  westward,  parallel  with  the 
mountains,  I  produced  a  twenty-franc  piece 
and  told  my  guide  I  would  not  trouble  him 
to  come   any  farther. 

Being  a  practical  man  he  grasped  the 
situation  —  and  the  gold  —  at  once,  merely 
asking  me  to  write  a  letter  to  the  caid 
certifying    that    I    had     reached     the    place     I 


122 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


y/tot(y. 


J'rom  a\      an    ancient    AytbULCl    UJbtOVERED    liV   THE    MAKQLTS, 

wanted   and    was   satisfied    with    my  guide.     I 
did  so,  and  we  parted  mutually  satisfied. 

Our  road  now- 
lay  through  a  bare, 
open  country,  re- 
deemed  from 
monotony  by  the 
e  ver-cha  n  gi  n  g 
panorama  of  the 
great  mountains 
on  our  left.  We 
encountered  no 
towns  of  any  im- 
portance, but 
merely  villages, 
some,  like  Mzouda, 
having  a  kas/>ah, 
or  citadel,  and  the 
others    being 

merely       SquallCl  J-tvma\  a  mciiD  oi-  nui. locks  crossing  the  kuek  sus.  {I'lioto. 

agglomerations    of  tinued  after  we  left 

clay-walled  dwellings.  About  si.xty  miles  from  the  mountains  and  struck  into  the  oasis  of 
the  point  at  which  I  had  dismissed  our  un-  Tisint,  famous  all  over  tlie  north  of  Africa  for 
invited  guide  we  came  to  the  Bibaoun 
I'ass.  It  was  guarded  by  soldiers, 
but  was  easier  of  access  than  Goundafi 
Profiting  by  experience,  I  waited  until 
nightfall  before  attempting  to  get 
through,  and  this  time  we  succeeded! 

After  emerging  from  the  passes  of 
the  Great  Atlas  we  kept  on  our  way 
southward  and  reached  Taroudant 
without  meeting  with  any  adventure. 
The  most  interesting  discovery  I  made 
in  this  part  of  the  journey  was  a  ruined 
af|uedu(t  over  the  dri.;d-up  bed  of  the 
River  War,  a  tributary  of  the  Sus.  It 
had  evidently  been  built  at  .some  long- 
distant  epoch  to  supply  water  to  some 
large  city,  but  of  this  I  could  find  no 
trace  whatever.     Its   mosques,  citadel. 


houses,  and  walls  must  have  been 
buried  under  the  sands  hundreds  of 
years  ago,  leaving  nothing  but  the  great 
aqueduct  to  remind  the  world  that 
they  had  once  existed. 

We  had  no  difficulty  in  fording  the 
Sus — one  of  those  wide,  shallow  rivers, 
drying  up  in  the  summer,  to  which  the 
term  "  wed  "  is  applied.  A  herd  of 
bullocks  followed  us  across,  guarded 
by  a  number  of  Sussis,  of  whom  I 
took  a  surreptitious  snap-shot  at  their 
halt  next  day.  I  should  have  liked 
to  see  one  of  the  sanguinary  tribal 
fights  that  so  often  occur  in  these 
regions,  but  in  this  respect  I  was 
unfortunate.  The  Sussis  seemed 
to  me  more  like  peaceful  agricul- 
turists  than  daring    marauders. 

Tiie  journey  along  the  banks  of  the  Sus  and 

across  the  Anti- 
Atlas  was  un- 
eventful.  I  had 
become  quite 
accustomed  to  my 
new  status  as  a 
wandering  Arab, 
though  I  still 
thought  it  prudent 
to  keep  in  the 
background  as 
much  as  possible. 
Fortunately,  the 
Moors  are  not 
inquisitive,  and 
this  saved  me  a 
great  deal  of  risk. 
My  good  luck  con- 


/  roin  ,i\ 


A    (,HOUl'   OK    SUSS[S, 


il'lwto. 


THROUr.H     UXKXOWX     MOROCrO. 


13 


IHF,       IilWN 

From  a\ 


its  dates.  Here 
we  lound  our- 
selves in  entirely 
different  surround- 
ings. The  tem- 
perature was  much 
higher,  the  sky 
was  u  n  i  for  m  1  y 
blue,  and  on  all 
sides  were  palm- 
trees.  The  people 
were  much  darker 
in  colour  than  the 
mountaineers,  and 
all  wore  Soudanese 
cotton  clothing  in- 
stead of  the  wool- 
len "jellab."  The 
town     of    T i s i n t 

proved  to  be  the  usual  collection  of  rectangular, 
flat-roofed  houses,  dominated  by  the  kasbak,  or 
citadel.  From  Tisint  to  the  Atlantic  coast  the 
trip  was  still  devoid  of  excitement.  No  one 
found  me  out,  and  when  I  was  safely  on  board 
the  steamer  at  IMogador  I  began  to  think  that 
travelling  in 
Morocco  was  not 
so  difficult  after 
all.  I  was  soon 
to  discover  the 
contrary. 

My  second 
journey,  which 
began  in  January, 
1 90 1,  was  in  the 
practically  untrod- 
den region  of  the 
Riff.  Vith  the 
exception  of  poor 
Georges  Forest 
(who  went  through 
the  mountains 
alone  as  far  as 
Fez,  but  d  i  s  - 
a|)peared  on  his 
way  back  to  the 
coast),  the  only 
European  known 
to  have  travelled 
in  this  part  of 
Morocco  was  M. 
Duveyrier,  but  all 
he  accomplished 
was  to  go  from 
T  I  e  m  c  e  n  to 
Melilla  in  1886. 
escorted  by  the 
Shereef  of  Wezzan 

and     fifty    or    sixty  From  a  Photo.  by\ 


rilKS     OASIS      IS      FAMOUS      .-ML     OVKl; 
rOK    ITS    DATES. 


1/' 


SECO.ND   JOURNEV 


armed  men,  so  that 
his  opportunities 
for  observation 
must  have  been 
few.  This  time  I 
was  accompanied 
by  two  natives  who 
spoke  the  Riff 
dialect.  Like  my 
muleteer,  these 
men  k  n  e  w  m  y 
object  quite  well, 
but  they  proved 
thoroughly  trust- 
worthy. It  may 
be  that  they  had 
an  eye  to  their 
own  safety  and 
also  to  the  money 
they  were  to  receive  when  they  brought  me 
back  to  the  coast ;  but  in  any  case  their  conduct 
proved  that  there  are  exceptions  to  the  rule  that 
no  Christian  can  safely  trust  his  life  to  a 
Mussulman. 

My  caravan  again  consisted   of   two   mules, 

and  I  added  a 
[)anoramic  camera 
to  my  arsenal  of 
implements.  As 
before,  we  tra- 
velled in  a  lei- 
surely way,  seeing 
little  of  the 
natives,  but  this 
was,  of  course,  a 
necessary  precau- 
tion, seeing  that 
my  chief  object 
was  to  avoid 
attention  and 
make  all  possible 
observations  likely 
to  be  of  value 
from  the  geo- 
graphical  point  of 
view.  In  this 
respect  I  was 
decidedly  success- 
ful. 

The  valleys 
lying  between  the 
mountain  ranges 
are  fertile,  i)ut, 
taken  as  a  whole, 
the  Riff  is  a  com- 
paratively poor 
province  —  which 
is,  {lerhaps,  why 
the    seaboard 


/'/!«/  iSravcya. 


124 


THE    WIDE    WORED    MAGAZINE. 


population  take  to  piracy  for  a  livelihood.  Schist 
is  the  prevailing  geological  element,  and  under 
the  action  of  the  rain,  which  washes  away  the 
earth  and  vegetation,  the  mountains  in  many 
places  look  like  great  masses  of  bronze,  present- 
ing a  most  remarkable  appearance. 

From  Fez,  the  largest  city  in  Morocco,  "rising 


Of  Melilla,  where  we  arrived  in  due  course,  I 
need  only  say  that  it  is  the  centre  of  a  flourish- 
ing trade  in  arms  and  ammunition.  Every 
Moor  is  anxious  to  possess  a  European  rifle, 
and  the  dealers  at  Melilla  get  very  good  prices. 
The  ALirtini  -  Henry  is  the  chief  favourite, 
because  it  inflicts  a  larger  wound  than  any  other. 


THE   EXPl.OKEK  S   C.Mi.WAN    TKAVEliSING   THE    DKIED-UI' 


1      im_    WED    MSUUN'. 


[Photo. 


like  a  white  island  from  a  sea  of  gardens,"  we 
made  our  way  westward  along  the  mountains  as 
far  as  the  bed  of  the  Wed  Msoun,  which,  being 
nearly  dried  u[),  provided  us  with  a  good  road, 
though  we  occasionally  had  to  wade  through 
stray  channels.  Near  a  big  mountain  called 
the  Jebel  Zerhoun  we  encountered  a  Riffian 
Irihe    on    the   warpath.      They   were   a    miscel- 


From  ;£6  to  ^8  is  about  the  usual  price  for  one 
of  these  weapons.  Inland  they  are  worth  a  good 
deal  more,  the  risk  of  their  being  stolen  in 
transit  being  necessarily  taken  into  account. 
linglish  ammunition  is  greatly  preferred  to  the 
Spanish  article,  which  is  often  worse  than  the 
ammunition  made  by  the  Moors  themselves — 
and  that  is  saying  much.     They  never  by  any 


from  a\ 


A    lilFIIAN 


lancous  collection  of  men  and  boys,  some  armed 
with  rifles,  but  the  majority  having  nothing 
better  than  the  long  Moorish  gun.  A  frowsier 
lot  of  .savages  one  could  hardly  hope  to  see,  but 
I  did  not  stop  to  investigate  them  too  closely. 
In  their  fighting  mood  they  might  not  have 
bein  too  [)arli(:ular  whom  they  attacked. 


/  'holo. 


chance  buy  absolutely  new  rifles,  their  conviction 
being  that  unless  the  weapon  sliows  distinct 
signs  of  use  it  may  burst  the  first  time  it  is  fired. 
Perhaps  bitter  experience  with  "trade"  guns  has 
taught  them  to  be  careful. 

The    Riff    coast    {)roved    to    be    fairly    well 
po[iulated,  and  we  were  never  at  a   loss   for  a 


THROUGH    UNKNOWN    MOROCCO. 


»25 


/■  ro.ii  It 


[l>E   COAS  [■    (JF     l]]E    KIFF — IT    HAS   A   SIMS'IEK    KEl'Ul  Al  li;N    FOR    I'IKACV    ANU    UKIGA.N  UAI.F;. 


[/'/lOtO. 


night's  lodging.  From  time  to  time  we  dis- 
covered a  mosque  containing  the  tomb  of  some 
pious  personage,  held  in  great  esteem  by  the 
superstitious  natives.  These  shrines  are  always 
distinguished  by  a  whitewashed  dome,  or 
koubba^  rising  above  the  terrace  from  which  the 
//ii/ezzin  five  times  a  day  announces  the  hour  of 
prayer.  The  koubba  at  Beni-bou-Cheffari,  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Wed  Kert,  is  especially  prominent, 
and  incongruously  enough  forms  a  useful  land- 
mark for  the  pirates,  but  its  architectural  merits 
are  not  great,  and  the  same  may  be  said  of  all 
the  modern  build- 
ings in  Morocco. 
The  famous  tower 
from  which  the 
beautiful  Giralda  at 
Seville  was  copied 
is  a  solitary  example 
of  what  Moorish 
builders  of  the  past 
could  do.  Even  the 
mosque  at  Jebel 
M  o  u  i  B  o  u  s  h  t  a , 
erected  over  the  re- 
mains of  a  very  holy 
man  indeed,  is  a 
poor  sort  of  struc- 
ture, the  only  at- 
tempt at  d  e  s  i  g  n 
being  half-a-dozen 
primitive  arches  in 
the  facade.  The 
place  was  simplv 
sordid  and  dirty.  1 
s'ept  in  il  unawed, 
steeped  i  n  a  n 
odour  which  was 
certainly  not    that  of  sanctity. 

The  finest  house  I  saw  in  the  interior  was 
at  Wezzan,  on  my  way  back  to  Tangier.  It 
had  been  pre[)ared  some  time  previously  for 
the  Sultan,  who  was  e.\pected  to  pay  a  visit 
to   Wezzan   on    one   of  his   periodical    journeys 


between  Marrakesh  and  Fez.  It  consisted  of 
two  buildings,  one  of  wliich  stood  in  the  middle 
of  an  artificial  lake  and  was  connected  with  the 
other  by  a  sort  of  bridge  or  terrace,  supported 
on  broad,  low  arches.  Parallel  with  this  terrace 
and  separated  from  it  by  an  arm  of  the  lake 
was  the  garden.  I  cannot  say  I  was  greatly 
rewarded  for  my  trouble  in  taking  a  photograph 
of  this  spot.  The  "  garden  "  was  merely  a  plot 
of  ground  divided  into  rectangular  "  flower- 
beds "  by  means  of  thick  walls  of  mortar, 
bounded  by  narrow  walks.     Shrubs  were  planted 

here  and  there,  but 
I  could  see  no  trace 
of  any  attempt  at 
artistic  arrange- 
ment. The  whole 
aspect  of  the  thing 
was  most  melan- 
choly. 

My  third  journey 
was  undertaken 
under  some  w  h  a  t 
different  conditions. 
I  arranged  with  a 
wandering  marabou!. 
or  priest,  to  join  his 
troop  of  mendi- 
cants, it  being 
understood  that  he 
should  go  wherever 
I  wanted.  I  made 
myself  look  as 
wretched  an  object 
as  possible,  and 
caused  it  to  be  un- 
derstood that  I  was 
slightly  "touched  in 
the  upper  story."  The  niaraboiifs  followers, 
who  were  all  in  the  secret,  always  gave  my 
lunacy  as  an  explanation  whenever  they  were 
(juestioned  about  me  by  strangers.  It  was  a 
good  plan,  especially  as  it  enabled  me  to  collect 
geological  specin)ens  quite  openly. 


126 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


The  Mohammedans,  as  Wide  World  readers 
may  know,  regard  lunatics  as  under  the  special 
protection  of  Allah,  and  the  Moors  not  only 
paid  no  attention  to  my  doings  but  often 
humoured  me,  as  they  supposed,  by  bringmg 
me  pebbles  and  in- 
sects, including 
cockroaches  and 
scorpions,  which  I 
had  to  accept  with 
every  sign  of  grati- 
tude and  throw 
away  when  no  one 
was  looking.  My 
assumed  lunacy  was 
also  very  useful 
when  I  wanted  to 
take  photographs. 
All  I  had  to  do  was 
to  stand  or  squat 
as  if  absorbed  in 
meditation,  bring 
the  lens  of  my 
camera  opposite  the 
slit  in  my  outer 
garment,  and  press 
the  button.  In  this 
way  I  managed  to 
take  over  800  snap- 
shots. One  of  these, 
produced  on  the 
next  page,  shows  a 
group  of  truculent  Berbers  looking  at  the  camera 
in  blissful  ignorance  of  the  awful  outrage 
which  is  being  perpetrated  u[)on  them. 

Our  style  of  travelling  was,  as  is  usual  in 
Morocco,  leisurely  ;  no  one  ever  hurries  there. 
The  early  prayer,  an  hour  before  sunrise,  not 
being  obligatory  in  the  case  of  travellers,  we 
were  seldom  astir  before  seven  o'clock.  Then 
came  devotions,  in  which,  of  course,  I  joined, 
and  breakfast,  consisting  of  a  sort  of  insipid 
barley  porridge  called  harara,  prepared  by  the 
women.  U'e  generally  started  between  nine  and 
ten  o'clock,  halted  early  in  the  afternoon,  and 
then  plodded  slowly  on  until  we  reached  our 
destination,  and  unloaded  the  mules  before 
eating  our  supjjcr,  a  vegetable  stew  called  iam, 
similar  to  the  Algerian  koushmss.  It  never 
occurred  to  anyone  to  relieve  our  unfortunate 
beasts  of  their  burdens  during  the  midday 
halt,  although  it  would  have  been  easy  to  do 
so.  The  pack-saddle  was  merely  a  wooden 
frame  in  the  shape  o*"  an  inverted  V,  covered 
with  coarse  canvas  stuffed  with  straw,  and  the 
bags  at  the  sides  being  of  one  piece  with  the 
saddle,  all  that  was  necessary  was  to  hold  up 
tlie  two  jjoles,  one  on  each  side  of  the 
mule,  and  drive   the  aniinnl   from    under  ;    liul 


!•  roiii  a\ 


.•\    .MOOKISH    GAKDliN. 


the    Moors    never    gave    themselves   so   much 
trouble. 

Apropos  of  tain,  I  may  here  remark  that 
even  the  richest  Moors  very  seldom  eat  meat. 
Barley  in  the  mountains  and  dates  in  the  desert 

and  oases  are  the 
staple  foods.  The 
chief  delicacy  all 
over  the  country  is 
tea,  brewed  very 
weak,  sweetened 
w  i  t  h  e  n  o  r  m  o  u  s 
quantities  of  sugar 
— the  cup  is  gener- 
ally half  full  of  it— 
and  flavoured  with 
mint  or  some  other 
aromatic  herb.  This 
beverage  must  be 
tasted  to  be  appreci- 
ated, (jreen  tea, 
imported  from  Eng- 
land, is  far  more 
largely  used  than 
any  other  kind. 
The  price,  of  course, 
increases  in  ])ropor- 
tion  to  the  distance 
from  the  coast,  and 
reaches  about  10s. 
per  pound  at 
Tisint.  Coffee  is 
unknown,  except  at  Marrakesh,  Fez,  and  the 
ports. 

Hie  finest  part  of  the  mountainous  country 
through  which  we  journeyed  was  what  may  be 
called  the  Middle  Atlas,  lying  immediately  to 
the  south  of  the  Tesa  Valley.  This  region  is 
inhabited  by  numerous  independent  tribes  of 
Berbers,  who  differ  in  many  respects  from  the 
Arabs.  The  latter  are  uniformly  dark  and 
slender,  with  very  small  extremities;  the  Berbers 
have  fair  hair,  blue  eyes,  thick  wrists  and  ankles, 
broad  shoulders,  and  comparatively  heavy 
features.  They  might  pass  for  Euroi)eans  much 
bronzed  by  the  sun.  They  live  in  communilies 
of  two  or  three  hundred,  some  of  whom  guard 
the  flocks  on  the  mountain  sides  while  the 
remainder  till  the  ground,  in  a  rudimentary  way, 
in  the  valleys. 

Their  houses,  built  of  clay,  have  enormously 
thick  walls — this  for  a  very  good  reason.  A 
J5erber's  house  has  often  to  be  his  castle,  for  the 
villages  are  frequently  at  war  with  one  another. 
Duels  are  common  among  the  men.  The 
challenger  simply  takes  a  pace  forward  and 
withdraws  his  foot  from  his  slipper.  If  the 
adversary  accepts  the  challenge  he  steps  on 
the  slipper,  and   the   fight  begins  straight  away. 


{riwto. 


THROUGH  UNKNOWN-  MOROCCO. 


127 


An  apology  is  given  by  lying  Hat  on  the  ground, 
face  downwards,  at  the  offended  party  s  feet, 
and  placnig  the  gun  across  the  back  of  the 
neck.  The  Berbers  are  a  pugnacious,  virile 
race,  living  at  high  pressure.  Fighting  and 
debauchery  play  havoc  amongst  them,  and  few 
of  the  men  live  beyond  middle  age.  The 
women  are  mere  beasts  ot    burden. 

The  mountain  sides  are  thickly  clothed  with 
oaks,  cedars,  and  other  trees,  but  these  forests 
are  dwindling  away  under  the  axes  of  the 
natives,  who,  of  course,  do  not  trouble  them- 
selves to  replant.  The  Moor  lives  only  for  the 
present  •  he  does  not  worry  about  posterity. 


up  from  bcliind  at  this  moment  and  drove  his 
mule  right  into  my  back,  knocking  me  flat  on 
my  face,  while  he  abused  me  for  gelling  in  the 
way.  The  other  Moors  looked  on  indifferently, 
and,  for  some  reason  that  I  am  unable  to 
explain,  the  man  who  had  detected  ine  dropped 
back  and  left  me.  Perhaps  the  mule-driver's 
language  satisfied  him  thai  I  was  all  right  ;  at 
any  rate,  I  saw  no  more  of  hini. 

x'\nother  little  adventure  of  the  same  kind 
happened  in  this  wise.  I  was  lying  flat  on  my 
stomach  one  night  outside  the  camp,  trying 
to  take  an  observation  of  the  stars  with  an 
artificial    horizon — a  dish  of  mercury — when  a 


BERLl.i;    i  i.li 


KREPTITIOUSLY  PHOTOGRAPHED   BY   THE   EXPLORER. 


In  the  Middle  Atlas  I  met  with  my  first  real 
adventure.  I  was  squatting  on  the  ground, 
industriously  writing  under  my  "jellab,"  when  I 
became  conscious  that  I  was  being  watched. 
I  peered  cautiously  under  my  eyelids  and 
saw  an  ill-looking  Moor  staring  hard  at 
me.  I  took  no  notice  of  him,  but  wrote 
the  words,  "Allah  ouhad  hou "  ("There  is 
but  one  God "),  the  formula  with  which 
every  Arabic  letter  begins,  dropped  it  as  if  by 
accident,  and  walked  slowly  away  to  see 
whether  he  would  follow  me.  He  did  not, 
much  to  my  relief.  I  kept  on  the  look-out  lor 
him  during  the  rest  of  the  day,  but  he  still  left 
me  alone  and  I  thought  I  had  got  rid  of  him. 
It  was  rather  alarming,  therefore,  when  next 
morning,  just  as  I  walking  to  the  place  where 
tile  others  were  assembled  for  prayers,  I  felt  a 
hand  on  my  arm,  and  heard  the  words  :  — 

"  Thou  art  no  Mussulman  '  " 

It  was  my  inquisitive  friend  of  the  day  before. 

The  position  was  a  very  awkward  one  for  me. 
Dozens  of  Moors  were  standing  close  at  hand, 
and  it  seemed  as  if  they  must  have  heard  what 
was  said.      Fortunately  one  ol   my   party  came 


marabout  stumbled  over  me  in  the  dark  and 
put  his  foot  right  in  the  mercury !  Being 
cold,  it  must  have  startled  him  considerably. 

"  Ba,  ba,  ba  ! "  he  grunted,  as  Arabs  often 
do  when  surprised. 

I  lay  low  and  said  nothing. 

He  looked  hard  at  me  and,  to  my  relief, 
walked  away  without  a  word. 

I  thought  he  would  not  know  me  again,  but 
I  was  mistaken.  Next  morning,  when  I  turned 
up  for  prayers  with  the  rest  of  the  caravan,  he 
recognised  me.  All  he  did  was  to  say  :  "  This 
is  not  the  place  for  thee,"  and  motion  to  me  to 
go  away,  which  I  did  at  once,  thankful  to 
escape  so  easily.  He  must  have  known  I  was 
a  Christian,  and  a  word  from  him  would  have 
been  my  death-warrant,  but  he  was  mercilul. 

The  Middle  Atlas  ends  abruptly  in  a  steep 
cliff  overhanging  the  valley  of  the  Muluya.  To 
the  south  is  the  Great  Atlas  range,  a  narrow 
line  of  sharp-pointed  granite  peaks.  Unlike 
the  Middle  Atlas,  these  peaks  are  bare  and 
exposed  to  the  action  of  the  wind.  The  dust 
carried  in  this  way  gives  a  distinctly  pink  tinge 
to  the  snow  on  the  summit  of  the  Jebcl  Ayashi. 


128 


THE    WIDK    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


Beyond  lies   the  yellow  expanse  of  the  desert, 
streaked  by  .^reen  valleys. 

Farther  north,  before  reaching  the  Muliiya, 
we  entered  the  domain  of  the  AitAyash,  the 
fairest-complexioned  of  all  the  Berber  tribes  I 
encountered.  They  are  less  barbarous  than  the 
denizens  of  the  Middle  Atlas,  and  their  dwell- 
ings have  some  pretension  to  style.  They 
believe  themselves  to  be  descended  from 
Europeans  and  boast  that,  unlike  most  of  their 
neighbours,  they  never  murder  deserters  from 
the  French  troops  stationed  in  Southern  Oran. 
Another  tribe  in  this  region,  the  Beni  Mgild, 

received  us  with     

a  volley  of 
musketry.  They 
thought  we  be- 
longed to  an- 
other tribe  with 
which  they  were 
at  war,  and  fired 
at  us  from  a  dis- 
tance, so  as  to 
be  on  the  right 
side  !  Luckily 
for  us  the  bul- 
lets fell  short. 
The  Moors  are 
very  good  shots 
at  point  -  blank 
range,  but  as 
they  have  never 
been  able  to 
learn  the  use 
of  raised  sights 


irrigation. 

of  wandering   Arabs 


they  are  not  very  formidable  marksmen  at 
anything  over  two  hundred  yards.  I  revenged 
myself  on  the  Beni  Mgild  by  shooting  some  of 
them  next  day — with  a  camera. 

The  valley  of  the  Upper  Muluya,  by  which  we 
began  our  return  journey,  is  one  of  the  least 
inviting  parts  of  Morocco.  The  soil  is  poor 
and  flinty,  the  banks  of  the  river  being  so 
high  that  the  water  is  almost  unavailable  for 
The  population  consists  merely 
I  turned  my  back  on 
the  river  without  regret  when  we  reached 
the  Teza  Valley.  This  region,  which  has  al- 
ready been  visit- 
ed by  several 
European  travel- 
lers, need  not 
be  described. 
^\'e  reached  Fez 
without  further 
adventure,  and 
I  bade  farewell 
to  my  faithful 
friend  the  niara- 
bout,  who  had 
carried  out  his 
engagement  so 
perfectly.  I  re- 
turned to  France 
greatly  pleased 
with  my  jour- 
neys as  a  Moor 
t  h  r  o  ugh  the 
heart  of  iin- 
knownMoroc(  o. 


— ^  'S^    'Vudeff'^ 


//• 


I    LAV    LOW    AN'I)   SAID    NOTHING." 


ON    THE    BRINK    OF    ETERNITY. 


By  Professor  Cari.  Hokk. 

Professor  Hoff,  now  deceased,  was  a  well-known  German  artist.  The  terrible  experience  here 
narrated  occurred  whilst  he  was  on  his  wedding  tour  in  the  Bavarian  Highlands,  and  nearly  ended 
in  the  destruction  of  both  his  young  wife  and  himself.  The  narrative  was  sent  to  us  by  Madame 
Cathinca  Amyot,  a  personal  friend  of  the  author,  who  has  also  prepared  the  accompanying  illustrations. 


I  T  the  lime-  lliis  adventure  happened 
my  wife  and  I  were  on  our  honey- 
moon. After  some  weeks  of  dehght- 
ful  rambles  in  Switzerland  and  a 
few  days  m  classical  Munich,  we 
intended  returning  to  Diisseldorf,  for  our  holiday 
was  on  the  wane  and  I  was  anxious  to  finish 
some  pictures  for  the  winter  exhibition.  My 
wife,  however,  expressed  a  strong  desire  to  go 
as  far  as  the  Bavarian  Highlands.  It  did  not 
take  much  to  persuade  me,  and  we  started  one 
glorious  September  day  for  Salzburg,  from 
whence  we  v.ent  to  Berchtesgaden,  a  delightful 


I  111-     11. AL   I  1  !■  UI,    LAKIC    111' 

I-roiii  a  riioto.  by\ 


Km\i(,s-m.;i:,   WHEiifc 
RKI.ATKD   OCCURKF.I). 


IHE    AD\  EN!  IKK     IIEKI-IN 

\_Balcii  <S-=  ;/  Hrthlc. 


little  mountain  village  near  the  beautiful  Lake 
of  Konigs-see. 

The  first  day  at  Berchtesgaden  was  a  dis- 
appointment ;  everything  was  hidden  in  clouds 
and  mists,  and  it  rained  heavily.  But  when  we 
opened  our  shutters  the  next  morning  the 
ranges  of  mountains  around  us  stood  out 
boldly  in  the  sunlight,  capped  with  dazzling 
snow.  It  was  a  splendid  sight,  and,  breakfast 
over,  we  started  for  the  Konigs-see  in  a  small 
carriage  absolutely  innocent  of  springs,  driven 
by  a  jolly  Bavarian  lad,  who  was  extremely 
talkative  and  knew  every  path  and  every  peak 
and  every  legend  for  miles  about.  My  wife, 
who  had  just  read  a  highly  romantic  novel 
called  "Auf  der  Hohe,"  was  full  of  questions 

Vol.  X.— 17. 


about  the  "Aim,"*  which  the  author  had  chosen 
for  the  final  scene  in  his  book.  With  the  handle 
of  his  whip  the  boy  [)ointed  to  a  tiny  spot  high  up 
where  the  green  slopes  seemed  to  give  way  to  a 
world  of  snow  and  ice,  which  stood  out  in 
dazzling  purity  against  the  deep  blue  sky.  "  It's 
high  up,"  he  said,  "  5,000ft.  above  the  sea."  He 
gave  us  a  good  deal  more  information,  and  we 
decided  to  make  the  ascent  the  following  day. 
Accordingly  we  engaged  a  guide,  ordered  pro- 
visions to  be  packed  into  a  hamper  which  the 
Bavarians  carry  strapped  on  their  backs,  and 
went  to  bed  that  evening  with  ardent  wishes 
for  a  fine  day. 

We  were  not  disappointed  ;  it 
was  a  glorious  morning,  and  the 
drive  to  the  lake  in  the  crisp,  clear 
air  just  before  sunrise — for  we 
started  early — was  exhilarating  in 
the  extreme.  When  we  got  near 
the  lake,  however,  it  looked  any- 
thing but  cheerful;  for,  being  long 
and  narrow  and  surrounded  by 
very  steep  mountains,  the  sun  only 
reaches  it  when  high  in  the 
heavens,  and  at  that  early  hour  it 
looked  black  and  forbidding. 

The  chilliness  which  precedes 
the  dawn  made  my  wife  shiver, 
and  she  looked  very  pale  when  we 
stepped  into  the  boat  where  the 
guide  awaited  us  together  with  an 
old  boatman,  who  was  to  row  us 
across  to  the  point  where  the 
ascent  commenced. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  I  asked 
my  wife.  "  Are  you  frightened  ?  " 
for  at  the  slightest  movement  of  the  boat  she 
clutched  at  my  arm  and  I  heard  her  teeth 
chntter  with  cold. 

"  No,  no,^'  she  said  ;  "  I  shall  be  all  right 
directly.  I  supi)Ose  it  is  the  grandeur  of  these 
mountains  that  oppresses  me,  for  I  feel  as  if 
some  danger  were  approaching  us." 

"  Nonsense,  my  dear  child,"  I  laughed. 
"  Look  !  we  shall  soon  be  up  there,  and  you 
will  see  the  very  window  through  which  the 
setting  sun  shone  on  'the  beautiful  face  of  the 
dying  Countess  Irma,'  as  your  novel  says." 

"  Oh,  don't  1 "  she  entreated.  "  Don't  speak 
of  death  here." 

•      .Mm      Is  .-x  nuuint.-iiii   cutlage  (or   the   shepherds— also  called 
"  bepiicrlu'Ule." 


I30 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    .MACiAZINE. 


I  really  felt  quite  annoyed  with  her,  as  I  had 
arranged  this  excursion  entirely  to  please  her, 
but  I  could  see  that  she  was  ciuite  unnerved. 
I  must  confess  that  the  lake  looked  gloomy  in 
the  extreme  below  us.  'l"he  grey  granite  rocks 
rose  almost  perpendicularly  out  of  the  dark 
green  waters,  shutting  out  the  view  of  the  green 
slopes  and  the  beauties  of  the  higher  regions. 
There  was  not  a  sound  to  be 
heard  except  the  splashing  of 
the  oars  and  now  and  then  the 
piercing  shriek  of  some  bird  of 
prey  high  up  in  the  air  above  us. 
"  What  does  that  cross  mean 
on  the  side  of  the  rock  over 
there?"  I  asked  the  guide. 

"  That  was  put  up  to  tlic 
memory  of  a  party  which  cap- 
sized there  on  Ail  Saints'  Day 
two  years  ago,"  he  replied. 
'•  They  were  English  people  and 
were  going  up  to  the  Aim,  just 
like  you,  but  they  never  got 
there,  poor  souls." 

"  There,  there,  that  will  do,"  I 
said,  hastily,  for  my  wife  sat  with 
her  eyes  shut,  and  I  could  see 
from  the  way  she  clasped  her 
hands  in  her  lap  that  she  was 
fighting  hard  to  overcome  her  nervousness.  Pre- 
sently we  came  to  another  cross,  and  before  I 
could  stop  him  the  garrulous  old  boatman,  rest- 
ing on  his  oars,  gave  us  a  vivid  description  of  how 
a  party  of  pilgrims  bound  for  the  Convent  of 
St.  IJartholemy,  half-way  down  the 
lake,  were  drowned  at  that  spot, 
the  boats  being  overcrowded.  I 
began  to  feel  as  though  we  were 
passing  through  a  cenx'tery  or  over 
a  battlefield  ! 

At  last  we  landed,  and  when  we 
had  left  the  dark  lake  behind  us 
the  spell  of  gloom  was  broken 
and  the  sun  smiled  cheerfully  on 
us  again  as  we  ascended  the 
zag  road  up  the  mountain-side. 

After  a  f(jur  hours'  climb  we 
arrived  at  the  Aim.  It  was  ex 
ceedingly  hot,  for  the  sun  was  high 
above  us,  but  the  air  was  beauti- 
fully fresh,  and  after  our  long  climb 
it  was  delightful  to  stretch  oneself  on  the  grass 
and  rest.  The  Sennen'm  (shepherdess)  helped 
the  guide  to  unpack  the  provisions  and  prepare 
our  meal.  'I'his  was  served  on  a  rustic  table 
outside  the  Sennerhiiile,  and  was  done  ample 
justice  to  by  both  of  us.  My  wife  was  now 
<iuite  herself  again,  and  talked  gaily  about  her 
favourite  novel  .md  ihc  Aim. 


FKAU    MARIE    HOKF. 

From  a  Photo,  by  G.  ^r  A.  Oveibeck. 


ZIg- 


I  l«)ll:.-.Sl)U    CAM.    IlOi-K. 

from  a  J'/io/o.  I'yG.  &>  A.  Ot'crbeck. 


Our  guide  informed  us  that  he  could  give  us 
two  hours  to  look  round  before  we  should  have 
to  return.  He  himself  spent  this  time  in  a  well- 
earned  siesta  in  one  of  the  sheds.  Dinner 
finished,  we  strolled  about  to  inspect  our 
surroundings. 

"It  is  strange,"  observed  my  wife,  "that  we 
don"t  get     glimpse  of  the  lake  anywhere." 

"  That  is  because  we  are  so 
high  up  and  at  a  considerable 
distance  from  the  shore  of  the 
lake,"  I  explained.  "If  we  can 
get  out  on  those  crags  yonder,  we 
shall  get  a  fine  view  of  the  lake, 
I  believe.  Come,  and  let  us  try." 
So  we  started  off  down  the 
slopes,  jumping  from  boulder  to 
boulder,  across  a  stream  which 
came  rushing  down  through  the 
rocks.  Then  we  mounted  the 
green  heights  opposite  until  we 
reached  the  base  of  the  crags  we 
were  bound  for.  On  closer  ac- 
quaintance we  found  them  con- 
siderably higher  and  steeper  than 
we  had  supposed,  but  neverthe- 
less we  climbed  valiantly  upwards, 
and  with  much  laughing  and 
joking  about  our  many  tumbles, 
and  the  various  scratches  and  rents  caused  by 
the  prickly  shrubs,  we  reached  the  top,  only  to 
find  that  still  higher  rocks  prevented  us  from 
getting  a  view  of  the  lake  far  below. 

But  the  air  was  so  exhilarating  that  we  felt 
no  fatigue,  and  so  we  went  farther 
and  farther  onwards,  and  at  last 
managed  lo  climb  up  on  to  a  nar- 
row plateau  which  stretched  before 
us.  Again  we  met  with  disappoint- 
ment, for  we  got  only  a  view  of  a 
tiny  strip  of  the  opposite  shore  and 
the  mountains  on  the  other  side 
of  the  lake.  The  plateau  ended 
very  abruptly,  and  some  feet  below 
we  saw  another  shelf  which 
stretched  far  away  towards  the  lake. 
To  jump  down  to  this  lower  level 
seemed  the  most  natural  thing  in 
the  world  to  do,  and  like  two  ha[)py 
children  we  ran  along  the  flat  rock, 
which  became  gradually  so  narrow 
that  I  stopped  my  wife.  "  It  is  not  safe 
for  you  to  go  any  farther,"  I  said.  "  Sit  down 
while  I  explore  the  place." 

She  sat  down  on  a  knoll  and  fanned  her  hot 

face    with    her    handkerchief,    calling    after    me 

chaffingly,  "  Be   careful  !    What  should   1   do  if 

you  tumbled  down  and  I  were  left  here  alone  ?  " 

I   found  it  safer  to  go  down  on  all  fours,  and 


ON    THE    BRINK    OF    ETERNITY. 


131 


in  this  position  I  crept  out  to  the  very  edge  of 
tiie  ledge  and  looked  over.  An  exclamation  of 
surprise  and  awe  escapetl  me,  for  the  flat  ro(  k 
on  which  I  was  lying  projected  considerably, 
and  I  found  myself  almost  suspended  over  the 
lake,  whose  black  waters  spread  out  at  an  im- 
measurable depth  beneath  me,  framed  by  the 
surrountling  mountains.  It  was  like  looking 
down  inco  a  well. 

A  tiny  mo\ing  s[)eck  down  there  caught  my 
eye ;  it  was  a  boat.  Presently 
a  little  white  puff  seemed  to  float 
away  from  it,  and  a  few  seconds  later 
came  the  report  of  a  gun,  which 
was  taken  up  and  re-echoed  like 
thunder  from  the  surrounding 
mountains.  By  the  time  the  sound 
took  to  reach  me  I  realized  the 
height  we  were  at. 

1  turned  round,  for  my  wife  had 
risen  and  came  laughing  towards 
me.  1  called  out  to  her  to  wait  till 
I  could  help  her,  but  unheeding 
she  went  down  on  her  feet  and 
hands  and  came  to  meet  me  half- 
way along  the  narrow  shelf.  Silently 
I  guided  her  to  the  edge  of  the 
cliff.  She  leaned  over  and  looked 
down.   .   .   . 

Instantly  I  saw  my  mistake  in 
allowing  her  to  come  out  there,  for 
she  turned  deadly  pale  and  I  heard 
her  panting  violently  for  breath. 
Then  she  burst  out  into  a  fit  of 
hysterical  weeping.  "  Come  back, 
dear,"  I  said;  "shut  your  eyes;  I 
will  guide  you."  I  had  my  arm 
round  her  waist,  and  I  could  feel 
that  her  whole  frame  was  shaking 
with  sobs. 

"  I  dare  not  turn  round  ;  I  shall 
fall  over  the  edge,"  she  cried. 

"  Don't  be  silly,  there  is  no 
danger  whatever,"  I  replied,  re- 
assuringly. "See!  I  have  got 
hold  of  you  tiglit." 

She  had  got  into  a  crouching  posi- 
tion quite  close  to  the  edge  and  buried  her  face 
in  her  iiands,  so  that  I  had  a  difficulty  in  getting 
her  to  turn  round  in  the  state  of  panic  which 
had  seized  her.  It  was  a  trying  situation,  but 
nothing  compared  to  what  was  still  to  come. 
By  much  coaxing  I  at  last  managed  to  get  her 
to  turn,  and  slowly  we  crept  back,  and  after 
reaching  the  upper  platform  sat  down  to  rest 
awhile  and  compose  our  nerves  a  little.  It 
took  some  time  to  soothe  her  and  to  prepare 
her  for  the  descent  from  the  plateau,  a  task 
which  filled  me  with  serious  misgivings. 


Everyone  who  has  climbed  mountains  knows 
that  it  is  very  much  easier  to  get  up  than  to  get 
down.  The  difficulties  before  us  became  at 
(jnce  manifest  to  me,  and  after  the  shock  my 
poor  little  wife  had  received  she  shrank  with 
terror  from  venturing  out  on  the  steep  side  of 
the  crag.  It  was  getting  late,  the  two  hours 
of  rest  allowed  us  by  the  guide  had  nearly  run 
out.  "We  must  return,"  I  said;  "come,  be 
brave,  dear.      I  will  go  down  first,  step  by  step. 


DO.Nl    111-.   -Ml.l-V,     rilKKl-:    IS    NO    UANGKU    WllATliVER,"    1    REPLIED,    KU.V-S.SL  KlNuLV. 


and  you  shall  put  your  hands  on  my  shoulders 
and  follow  in  my  track." 

It  was  an  awful  descent,  and  the  fiirther  we 
got  down  the  more  perplexed  I  became,  for  I 
had  expected  to  see  the  green  slope  and  the 
little  stream  down  there,  instead  of  which  we 
landed  in  a  rocky  wilderness  I  did  not  remem- 
ber to  have  noticed  before. 

Suddenly  it  flashed  across  my  mind  that  f<r 
/ui(f  missej  t/ic  7vay  !  I  felt  iiot  and  cold  by 
turns,  and  cursed  my  foolhardiness  in  attempt- 
ing the  enterprise  without  a  guide. 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


From  the  position  of  the  sun  I 
guessed  that  we   had  strayed  still 
farther  away  from  the  Ahn,  edging 
nearer  to  the  lake,  so  I  placed  my 
wife  on  a  safe  spot  and  went  off  to 
reconnoitre    the   place.       It   soon 
became  clear  to  me  that  in  order 
to  reach  the  Aim  we  should  have  to 
cross  a  little  ravine,  for  on  the  other 
side  I  recognised  a  group  of  fantastic- 
ally-shaped rocks  which  I  had  noticed 
when  we  passed  them  on  our  way  up. 
On  looking  for  a  place  to  descend, 
however,  I  found  it  would    be  impos- 
sible just  there,  and  after  some  search 
discovered  what  looked  like  an  easier 
way  to  get  down.      I   calculated   that 
once  down  below  we  could  easily  get 
round  some  intervening  crags  and  mount 
the  opposite  side  of  the  ravine. 

Even  here,  however,  it  proved  far  more 
difficult  to  get  down  than  I  had  antici- 
pated, and  after  much  slipping  about, 
each  slip  increasing  my  wife's  agitation, 
we  had  to  stop  short,  for  we  found  it  impossible 
to  proceed.  We  were  now  on  a  narrow  ledge 
which,  shelf-like,  projected  from  a  wall  of  rock 
which  descended  perpendicularly  beneath  us  to 
the  lake.  Where  my  supposed  path  was,  good- 
ness only  knows  ! 

I  was  standing  with  one  foot  on  the  rocky 
ledge,  the  other  planted  somewhat  higher 
up  ;  my  wife,  trembling  and  terrified,  stood 
a  little  above  me,  supporting  herself  against  my 
shoulders  and  clutcliing  nervously  at  my  right 
arm.  It  was  impossible  to  turn  round  and 
climb  back  the  way  we  had  come,  for  my  wife 
was  completely  unnerved  after  seeing  the  gulf 
beneath  us.  To  proceed  seemed  quite  as  hope 
less.  Our  position  was  desperate,  and  only 
desperate  measures  could  save  us. 

I.arge  beads  of  perspiration  stood  on  my 
forehead,  and  as  the  nervous  trembling  of  my 
wife  began  to  communicate  itself  to  me  I  knew 
that  it  would  be  im[)0ssible  for  me  to  remain 
long  in  that  position.  Yes  !  I  felt  it  coming — 
thai  sickening  terror  which  follows  the  loss  of 
one's  nerve  at  high  altitudes.  We  should  have 
to  die  tog»;lher,  leaving  the  beautiful  world  and 
all  the  happiness  life  had  promised  us. 

Desperately  I  looked  about  for  some  means 
of  esca[)e.  Above  us  stretched  the  towering 
height  impossible  to  climb  with  my  wife  in  an 
almost  fainting  condition  — below  us  that  awful 
gulf  and  the  lake,  anrl  all  around  the  merciless 
rocks  where  only  a  chamois  or  a  goat  might  find 
a  footing. 

However,  with  death  before  one,  there  is 
nothing  to  risk  and  everything  to  gain.      I  had 


1^-  - 


"l    WAS   STANDING   WITH    ONE    FOOT   ON    THE    ROCKY    LEDGE,    THE 
OTHtR    PLANTED    SOMEWHAT    HIGHER    UP." 

life  and  hnppiness  to  fight  for.  "  We  must  try 
to  get  along  this  narrow  ledge,"  I  said.  "  It  is 
but  a  short  stretch,  and  we  shall  be  on  that 
green  slope  over  there.  Come,  dearest,  make 
one  last  effort  !  I  will  hold  you  and  we  shall 
do  it  all  right,  if  you  will  only  keep  cool  and 
strong." 

Poor  little  woman,  she  was  beside  herself  with 
terror,  but  she  did  htr  best  to  assist  me. 

By  the  instinct  of  self-preservation  I  found  a 
way  to  advance  along  the  path — a  task  which 
could  assuredly  only  be  performed  with  the 
pros[)ect  of  death  spurring  one  on.  Stretching 
out  my  right  arm  along  the  rock,  I  got  a  firm 
hold  in  a  fissure.  Then  with  my  left  I  steered 
my  wife  out  on  the  ledge,  my  outstretched  right 
arm  forming  a  barrier  to  keep  her  from  falling. 
Next  I  found  a  grasp  for  my  left  hand  and 
advanced  a  step  forward,  my  eyes  searching 
meanwhile  for  the  next  hand-hold.  It  presented 
itself  in  a  tough  shrub  growing  in  a  crevice. 

"  Keep  your  eyes  shut,  and  for  Heaven's  sake 


ON    THE     BRINK    OF    ETERNITY. 


133 


don't  move,"  I  ulii>[)i.rc(l  l(^  my  wifr.  I-^vcry 
nerve  in  my  body  was  drawn  Icnsc  with  agony, 
for  to  reacli  that  lilllc  twi:;  I  liad  to  leave  go  of 
the  fissure  with  mv  hand  and  stretch  out 
unsupported  towanls  the  shrub.  Would  it  bear 
the  strain  upon  it  ?      \'es  ;  it  stood  it  bravely  ! 


■  KEEP   YOUR    EYES   SIIUI',    A.\Ii    1 


Id;     ill'.WlvN  s    SAUE    DON    I'    MuVl 
TO    .MY    WII-'E." 


"Now,  dear,"  I  said,  "try  to  wriggle^  your 
feet  gently  forward  towards  me.  We  are  going 
splendidly  ;  we  shall  soon  be  over."  I  said  this 
encouragingly,  though  in  reality  my  heart  was 
sinking  at  the  awful  journey  which  lay  before  us. 
Though  only  a  few  yards,  its  difficulties  made  it 
seem  like  miles. 

By  making  use  of  projecting  rocks,  crevices, 
and  shrubs  in  this  manner  we  advanced  little 
by  little  towards  our  goal,  every  second  seeming 
an  hour.  But  when  nearly  at  the  end  of  our 
terrible  climb  a  few  tufts  of  grass  and  shrubs, 
wliich  [)resented  themselves  to  my  hand,  proved 
unsafe   and   came  away  from    the   cliff  when   I 


tried  them.  There  was  absoluti-ly  nothing  else 
t(j  lay  hold  on— nothing  but  a  smooth  surface 
of  bare,  pitiless  rock  ! 

'I'he  mere  remembrance  of  that  awful  niuineni 
turns  me  giddy  and  sick  at  heart,  and  at  the 
time  it  was  like  a  death  sentence.  My  poor 
ycnmg  wife  seemed  dazed  ;  she 
stood  there  in  my  embrace, 
pressed  against  the  cliff,  her  eyes 
shut  and  her  face  looking  like 
that  of  a  corpse. 

Strange  thoughts  flashed  like 
lightning  through  my  brain.  When 
we  were  falling  would  we  strike 
against  the  rocks  below  and  be 
crushed  and  mangled  before  reach- 
ing the  lake,  or  would  the  fall 
through  the  air  render  us  insen- 
sible? Would  the  water  be  very 
cold  ?  Was  that  large  bird  now 
soaring  above  us  with  piercing 
shrieks  waiting  for  the  tragedy  ? 
Where  was  the  guide  now  ;  was 
he  hunting  for  us  ?  These  thoughts 
and  many  more  surged  through 
my  tortured  mind. 

So  near  the  goal  and  yet  so  far 
— for  was  not  all  Eternity  between 
us  and  tliat  green  slo{)e  only  a  few 
yards  off?  At  that  supreme 
moment  my  whole  heart  rose  and 
I  broke  into  a  cry  for  help  to  the 
One  above. 

My  prayer  was  answered.  My 
fumbling  fingers,  wandering  fever- 
ishly over  the  rock,  at  last  met 
with  something  —  the  twisted, 
rope-like  root  of  some  mountain 
shrub.  I  seized  it  ;  it  held  firmly. 
Summoning  all  my  remainmg 
strength,  I  grasped  my  wife  with 
my  left  arm  and,  hanging  by  the 
root,  advanced  along  the  ledge. 
A  minute  later  I  knelt  on  that 
green  grass  slope  by  the  fainting  figure  of  my 
wife  ! 

It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  ne.xt 
moments.  Let  anyone  who  has  been  in  the 
clutches  of  Death  recall  the  feelings  which  take 
hold  of  one's  whole  being  when  delnerance 
comes  unexpectedly. 

Suddenly  I  heard  a  distant  "  yodel,"  winch  1 
re-echoed  with  all  my  voice,  and  soon  our  guide 
appeared.  He  had  been  beside  himself  with 
fear  as  to  our  fate,  and  in  his  rough  language 
he  read  me  a  well  deserved  homily  about  my 
foolhardiness  in  starting  without  him  on  such  a 
dangerous  expedition. 


I  w  iiisi'bKi;u 


Frovi  a  Photo. 

I.— I    VISIT    A    BULLFIGHT. 

We  have  pleasure  in  informing  our  readers  that  we  have  commissioned  Mr.  Bart  Kennedy — whose 
graphically-told  stories  of  his  experiences  in  many  lands  have  proved  so  popular  -  to  tramp  through  the 
length  and  breadth  of  Spain,  that  most  romantic  of  European  countries.  Mr.  Kennedy  knows  not  a  word 
ol  the  language,  carries  no  outfit  beyond  a  revolver  and  a  camera,  and  will  journey  afoot  right 
to  the  Pyrenees.  This  is  not  Mr.  Kennedy's  first  experience  as  a  tramp  in  a  strange  land,  and 
his  trip  should  be  full  of  interest  and  not  a  little  adventure,  seeing  that  some  of  the  wildest  and  most 
inaccessible  spots  in  Europe  are  to  be  found  in  the  land  of  the  Dons.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  this  journey 
has  never  been    essayed    by  an  Englishman  under  similar  circumstances  before. 


T  recjuires  no  knowledge  of  Spanish 
to  know  that  the  bull -fight  is  the 
great  institution  of  Seville.  All  that 
you  have  to  do  is  to  get  the  fact 
firmly  fixed  in  your  head  that  "toro" 
means  bull.  Thus  armed  you  may  go  and  sit 
in  the  wine-shops  or  in  the  cafes  and  feel  per- 
fectly at  home.  You  are  not  out  of  it.  You 
arc  no  longer  a  stranger  in  a  strange  land.  You 
know  the  topic  of  the  moment,  the  hour,  the 
day,  and  the  best  slice  out  of  the  night. 

To  show  you  that  bullfighting  is  a  thing  of 
overwhelming  interest  here  in  Seville,  I  have 
but  to  mention  the  fact  that  even  the  little 
children  play  at  it  in  the  streets.  One  of 
them  is  the  matador,  having  a  little  stick  for 
an  espada,  or  sword.  Another  represents  the 
bull,  running  here  and  there  with  a  small 
'wooden  bull's  head  in  his  arms.  The  others 
play  at  being  pirad(;rs  and  banderilleros. 
They  dash  about  and  around,  following  as 
closely  as  they  can  the  rules  that  govern  the 
fights  in  the  I'laza  de  Tores. 


Above  the  vast  bull-ring  of  Seville  the  sky 
stretched  blue  and  strange  and  without  clouds, 
and  the  rays  of  the  sun  struck  sharp  down  on 
the  heads  of  the  people  who  sat  in  the  o[)en 
glare.  It  was  Sunday  afternoon  — the  feast  of 
San  Pedro  —  and  16,000  men,  women,  and 
children  were  here,  waiting  to  see  the  killing  of 
the  bulls.  Through  the  night  the  great  bell  of 
the  ,  cathedral  had  tolled  forth  solemnly  in 
honour  of  the  feast  and  the  trumpeters  had 
sounded  their  trumpets  from  the  tower.  And 
now  it  was  the  turn  of  the  toreros  to  honour 
the  day  by  the  killing  of  bulls.  The  outer 
line  of  the  bull-ring  swept  round,  cutting  a 
great,  shar[)  circle  against  the  blue  sky — the 
sky  without  clouds.  It  looked  as  if  there  were 
but  two  things  of  account — the  sky  and  the 
ring,  two  vast  implacable  things  of  silence. 
The  16,000  moving,  shouting  people  seemed  as 
nothing. 

Upon  myself  had  fallen  the  spell  of  silence. 
The  shouts  and  cries  and  laughter  of  the 
tremendous    multitude    conveyed    nothing    that 


A    TKAMI'    IX    SPA  IX. 


'JD 


MK.    BART    KK.NNEDY   IN    THE    COSTUME    HE   WILL    WEAR 

Front  a\  on  his  journey.  [Photo. 

was  definite  to  my  mind.      I  knew  no  Spanish. 

There    was     no    thread     of     language-relation 

between  mj'self  and  these  shouting  thousands. 

I  was  human  and  they  were  human,  and   that 

was  all.     And  for  a  while  the  scene  wore  for  me 

an  aspect  that  was  strange  and  unreal.     I  might 

have  been  among 

the  Latins  of  the 

times    of    old, 

when     men   slew 

men  in  an  arena 

such    as     this  : 

when     men    fell 

dead  and    dying 

on   .sands   yellow 

and     pitiless    as 

the  sands  which 

stretched    before 

me     now    under 

the    fierce    glare 

of     the    sun    of 

Spain. 

Suddenly  there 
rang  out  a  great 
blare  of  trumpets, 
and  a  1  g  u  a  z  i  1 s 
rode  into  tlie 
arena  clad  in  the 
old  Spanish 
dress.  And  then 
there    broke  out 


a  military  air,  and  the  toreros  and  their 
followers  marched  out  in  procession  before 
the  great  multitude.  'I'hey  made  a  brave 
showing  the  matadors  with  their  brilliant 
attire  and  red  cloths  and  swords,  the  ban- 
derilleros  with  gay  streamers  flying  from  their 
barbed  darts,  and  the  mounted  picadors  witli 
their  long  pikes.  They  saluted  the  president, 
wiio  threw  the  key  of  the  toril,  or  bull-pen,  into 
the  arena.  An  alguazil  got  off  his  horse, 
picked  it  up,  and  rode  across  the  arena  and 
handed  it  to  the  torilero,  the  keeper  of  the  toril. 

The  door  of  the  toril  was  open.  Right 
across  the  arena  I  could  see  it  from  where  I 
sat— an  oblong,  upright  space  of  blackness, 
standing  out  in  sharp  relief  in  the  hard  glare 
of  the  sun.  There  was  no  one  in  the  arena 
now  save  a  man  who  was  dressed  entirely  in 
white.  He  stood,  motionless,  on  a  low  peristyle 
in  the  centre  of  the  arena.  The  toreros  had  all 
L;one  to  the  barriers.  The  show  had  opened. 
This  man  in  white  was  the  tancredo.  He  was 
unarmed  and  helpless,  awaiting  the  chance  of 
death.  The  16,000  people  sitting  in  the  shadow 
and  the  glare  watched  him  silently. 

A  bull  slowly  came  out  of  the  upright  space 
of  blackness  and  walked  down  the  slope  to  the 
edge  of  the  sand.  It  was  only  a  few  seconds 
since  the  toril  had  been  opened,  but  it  seemed 
to  me  to  have  been  a  long  time.  In  that  time 
the  shouting  had  died  down  and  breaihlessness 
had  come  upon  the  people.  There  was  the 
white  figure  of  the  man  in  the  centre  of  the 
arena,  and  there,  off  at  the  edge,  was  the  black 


/■  rout  a] 


CHILDREN    lUAYlNG    AT   HULL-KIGHTING    IN    THE   STREETS  OF   SKVII.LE. 


iJluta. 


136 


THI-:    WIDE    WORLD     MAGAZINE. 


/  roiii  a  Photo.  6y] 


\}l\\    TO   SIAND    MOTIONLESS   ON 
THE   BULL   TO   CHARGE    HIM. 


A    PEDESTAI,    AM)    Al.l.dW 

[Mr.  Bart  Kennedy. 


hull,  looking  around.  And  everyone  was  silent. 
I  turned  my  head  away  for  an  instant  and 
when  I  looked  again  the  bull  was  charging 
across  the  arena.  He  had  seen  the  tancredo  ; 
he  was  going  now  to  gore  him,  to  kill  him.  A 
swift,  black  thing  of  destruction,  he  was  rush- 
ing upon  this  motionless  man  in  white.  It 
seemed  to  me  as  if  the  bull  were  rushing  upon 
myself.  I  could  feel  the  coming  thrust  of  the 
cruel  horns,  and  the  toss,  and  darkness. 

The  bull  was  within  a  yard  of  the  tancredo 
when  all  at  once  it  swerved  and  stopped  dead. 
The  man  in  white  still  stood  motionless  on  the 
peristyle.  The  bull  again  approached  him,  this 
lime  slowly,  and  walked  around  him.  Then, 
with  a  toss  of  its  head,  it  left  him,  galloping  off 
in  the  direction  of  the  toril.  A  chulo  had  just 
entered  the  arena,  and  had  attracted  it  by  the 
waving  of  his  cape. 

The  whole  of  the  people  were  now  standing, 
shouting.  The  tension  was  broken.  I  was 
shouting  and  cheering  myself  It  was  such  a 
brave,  fine  thing  to  stand  out  there—  motionless 
—while  the  bull  charged  !  Had  the  tancredo 
moved  in  the  least  he  would  have  been  gored 
lo  death  before  the  toreros  could  get  across  the 
ar.tia.  He  had  to  stand  still  as  stone— and  in 
this  lay  his  safety,  for  no  bull,  however  furious, 
will  strike  or  gore  a  thing  that  does  not  move. 
If  a  m;in  could  have  the  nerve  to  stand  motion- 
less before  a  charging  bull  he  would  be  safe ; 
the  bull  would  go  off  without  touching  him. 

The  chulos  were  now  running  swiftly  about 
in  the  arena  with  their  quick-waving,  fljing 
capes.  Tile  bull  was  galloping  and  rushing 
here  and  there,  now  after  one,  now  after 
another.  The  men  evaded  the  rushes  with 
wonderful    skill   and    precision.     At    times    the 


upward  sweep  of  the 
sharp  horns  was  within 
an  inch  of  one  of  them. 
The  bull  on  a  straight 
line  could  move  faster 
than  any  of  them,  but 
he  could  not  turn  so 
(juickly  or  so  surely. 
Once  he  bounded  right 
^on  the  top  of  one  of  them. 
The  man  sank  flat  to 
the  sand,  and  escaped 
somehow  between  the 
lowered  head  of  the  bull 
and  its  forelegs  ;  how,  I 
don't  know.  The  thing 
was  done  so  quickly  that 
the  eye  could  not  follow 
it.  The  man  rolled  over 
and  over  on  the  sand,  and 
the  bull  lowered  its  head 
to  charge  at  him  again,  but  was  drawn  away 
by  another  chulo,  who  waved  his  cloak  right  in 
front  of  his  horns.  The  bull  struck  upwards, 
pierced  the  cloak,  and  the  man  ran,  leaving  it 
impaled.  The  bull  had  scored.  By  this  time 
the  man  who  had  fallen  had  got  out  of  the  way. 
I'he  bull  was  now  galloping  in  a  circle  with  the 
cape  flying  over  its  back.  But  a  chulo  ran 
right  across  in  front  of  it  and  plucked  the  cape 
from  its  horns. 

The  bull  stopped.  At  once  a  man  went  up 
to  it  and  waved  his  cape  in  its  face.  The  bull 
lunged  forward,  and  as  the  man  turned  to  evade 
the  lunge  he  trailed  his  cape  after  him  upon  the 
sand.  Herein  he  was  unfortunate,  for  the  bull 
trod  on  the  trailing  cape  and  somehow  dragged 
him  down.  At  once  the  bull  got  his  horns 
under  him  and  tossed  him  into  the  air  ;  but  the 
man  was  hardly  down  on  the  sand  again  before 
the  bull  was  drawn  off  by  the  waving  of  another 
cape. 

I  could  tell  l)y  the  way  the  chulo  lay  thai 
he  was  hurt.  He  was  lifted  up  and  carried 
from  the  arena  by  two  of  his  comrades.  I 
had  heard  it  said  that  bull-fighting  was  a 
cowardly  affair:  that  it  was  all  on  the  side  of 
the  men,  and  that  the  bull  had  no  chance. 
lUit  this  fight,  of  which  I  was  an  eye-witness, 
proves  the  contrary  to  be  true.  The  bull- 
fighters are  quick,  skilful  men,  who  take  their 
lives  in  their  hands  every  time  they  go  into 
the  arena.  In  fact,  I  came  to  the  Plaza  de 
Toros  with  my  sympathies  predisposed  in 
favour  of  the  bull.  Puit  an  actual  view  of  the 
fight  and  its  conditions  brought  me  on  the 
side  of  my  kind  —  the  men  ! 

The  banderilleros  now  came  into  the  arena 
armed    with    their     banderillas  —barbed     darts 


A    TKAMP    IN    Sl'AlX. 


J37 


thirty  inches  long.  These  men  had  to  get  right 
in  liniu  of  the  bull  as  it  charged,  spring  to  one 
side  at  tlie  right  haction  of  a  second,  and 
plant  their  darts  in  the  top  of  its  neck.  Being 
a  tenth  of  a  second  late  would  mean  death  for 
them. 

One  of  them  approaehetl  the  bull.  He  held 
a  dart  poised  in  either  hand.  The  bull 
stood  stiff  and  rigid.  Then  it  bounded 
forward  but  so  suddenly  that  the  banderillero 
had  barely  time  to  save  himself  by  a  quick  move 
to  his  right.  He  dropped  one  of  his  darts  as 
the  bull  whizzed  past  and  a  great  shout  broke 
out  over  the  whole  of  the  arena.  'l"he  people 
were  applauding  the  bull,  which  was  now  dash- 
ing here  and  there.     Uut  a  chulo  waved  his  cape 


in  the  distance  and  attracted  it  towards  a  ban- 
derillero who  waited  for  it  as  it  rushed  upon 
him.  He  planted  two  darts  in  its  neck  almost 
as  its  horns  were  touching  him.  The  bull 
turned  and  ran  on,  only  to  meet  another  ban- 
derillero, who  also  planted  a  dart  in  its  neck. 

There  was  now  a  great  uproar.  Everyone 
was  excited  and  shouting  wildly.  I  turned 
round  to  look  at  the  faces  of  the  people.  I'hey 
were  all  intent  and  eager  upon  the  fight — men, 
women,  and  children.  Their  eyes  were  follow- 
ing the  movements  of  the  enraged  bull  and  the 
quick,  lithe,  flying  banderilleros.  They  were 
looking  and  shouting  and  waving  their  arms  and 
making  sudden  gestures.  There  was  a  vast 
chaos  of  terrible  sound. 

The  bull  was  now  against  the  barrier  ofl 
across  the   arena.     He  was   standing   alert   and 

Vol.  X.— 18. 


watchful,  with  his  head  erect.  Slowly  he 
galloped  forward  and  the  matador  approached 
and  stood  facing  him.  In  one  hand  he  <  arricd 
his  muleta,  or  red  cloth  ;  in  the  other  his  sword. 
The  crisis  in  the  fight  had  come. 

The  blade  of  the  matador's  sword  Hashed 
sharply  in  the  sun  as  he  pointed  it  straight  at 
the  bull.  To  give  the  death-blow  he  had  to 
strike  down  and  deep  through  the  neck  to  the 
heart.  He  had  to  strike  the  bull  in  front  as  it 
rushed  upon  him.  Should  he  step  to  the  side 
and  strike,  it  would  be  considered  unfair— a  foul 
blow.  The  people  would  curse  him  and  execrate 
him.  They  would  call  him  "Assassino!"  They 
would  howl  him  out  of  the  arena.  He  must 
strike  the   bull    fair—  in  front !      The  place  to 

strike  on  the 
neck  of  the  bull 
is  a  spot  some- 
thing over  an 
inch  in  width  and 
about  two  and  a 
half  inches  long. 
The  matador 
must  find  it  with 
the  point  of  hi« 
sword  as  the  bull 
thunders  down 
upon  him.  A 
half-inch  too  fai 
to  the  right  oi 
left  would  make 
the  stroke  worse 
than  useless;  the 
bull  would  be 
but  the  more 
enraged. 

The  man  waved 
his  red  cloth  and 
the  bull  came  on. 
Ikit  the  matador 
stepped  deftly  aside.  There  had  not  been 
a  favourable  opening.  The  time  was  not 
yet.  Again  the  bull  came  on,  and  again. 
Now  the  bull  and  the  man  came  together 
and  I  saw  the  blade  of  the  sword  flash 
like  lightning.  Whether  it  had  gone  home  or 
not  I  could  not  for  the  instant  tell.  The  rush 
of  the  bull  and  the  lunge  of  the  matador  and 
the  lightning  flash  of  the  sword  seemed  to  the 
eye  but  as  one  swift  movement.  I  saw  the 
matador  walking  slowly  towards  the  barrier. 
The  people  were  standing,  cheering  him,  and 
he  was  bowing.  His  sword  was  no  longer  in 
his  hand.  Men  were  throwing  down  their  hats 
to  him  ;  women  and  children  were  cheering 
him. 

r.y  this  time  the  bull  was  in  another  part  of 
the    arena.      It   had    followed  the   waving  of  a 


'3S 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


cape  after  the  matador  had  struck  it.  I  could 
just  make  out  the  hilt  of  the  sword  — showing 
on  the  lop  of  the  bull's  neck.  The  blow  had 
gone  home.  But  so  quickly  had  the  matador 
to  move  to  avoid  the  horns  of  the  bull  that 
he  had  to  let  the  sword  go  from  his  hand. 

The    end    had    come.     The    bull    stopped, 
staggered,  and  fell.     A  crowd  of  toreros  came 


came  out  of  the  toril  and  into  the  arena.  Eight 
bulls  had  to  come  out  in  all.  Three  had 
already  made  sport  and  fallen.  All  had  died 
game — charging  the  matador. 

By  this  time  I  was  almost  hoping  that  a  bull 
would  kill  a  man.  My  sympathies  had  gone 
over  now  altogether  to  the  side  of  the  bulls. 
The  ingenuity  of  the  toreros  had  at  last  become 


From  a  Fhoto.  by\ 


A    CLOSE   SH.WF.. 


\_Mr.  Bait  Kennidy. 


up  around  it  and  a  puntillero  bent  down  and 
gave  it  the  finishing  stroke.  And  the  trumpets 
sounded  again  throughout  the  arena,  and  there 
was  a  quick  ringing  of  bells  as  three  har- 
nessed mules  Were  driven  into  it  and  across 
to  where  the  bull  lay — dead.  Tiie  driver 
made  fast  the  horns  of  the  bull,  and  it  was 
dragged  out  amid  innumerable  shouts  and  the 
blasts  of  trumpets  and  the  bowing  of  the 
matador,  who  was  now  walking  quickly  around 
by  the  barrier,  his  sword  in  his  hand,  responding 
to  the  calls  and  shouts  and  cheers. 

The  first  act  of  the  drama  was  over.  And 
though  the  toreros  took  their  lives  in  their 
hands,  bravely  facing  deatli,  I  was  sorry  for  the 
bull.  I  did  not  feel  as  I  thought  I  should  feel 
'  ■  oming  to  the  fight,  or  as  I   had  felt  at 

I oiiining  of  it.     I  admitted  to  myself  that 

the  loruros  had  to  execute  a  difficult  and  most 
[Krilous  task  :  that  the  human  actors  in  the 
■  p  ,rt  — or  tragedy— were  in  no  sense  cowards. 
I;  .;  the  bull  was  so  brave  and  so  game,  and 
there  were  so  many  against  it  —  thousands 
'  Mst  it.  However  brave  and  game  it  might 
■  ,  there  was  nothing  for  it  in  the  end  but  death. 
It  had  to  reckon  with  invincibility. 

Over  an  hour  had  passed  and  liie  fourth   bull 


monotonous  to  me.  They  were  fine,  brave 
fellows,  but  they  were  too  skilful.  Perhaps  I 
might  have  felt  differently  if  the  bulls  were  not 
so  game.  Had  they  got  afraid  or  shirked  the 
fi"ht,  I  might  not  have  minded  so  much  their 
being  killed.  But  to  see  them  fight  bravely, 
one  after  another,  till  they  fell  dying  made  me 
wish  that  they  could  kill  in  turn.  And  there  is 
a  fine  magnetism  about  a  man  or  animal  who 
dies  game. 

The  bull  that  was  now  in  the  arena  was 
branded  on  the  side  with  a  number — 89.  I  saw 
the  number  plainly  as  it  dashed  over  close  to 
where  I  was  sitting.  It  was  a  small  bull,  but 
the  most  active  and  supple  of  them  all.  It 
bounded  and  leaped  about  like  a  panther.  A 
banderillero  got  in  front  of  it  to  try  and  plant  a 
dart  in  its  neck.  He  missed — and  as  he  turned 
to  run  the  bull  turned  also.  A  chulo  darted 
across  and  gave  a  quick,  sharp  fling  of  his  cape 
in  front  of  it  as  it  followed  the  banderillero. 
But  No.  89  was  not  to  be  baulked.  He  followed 
the  banderillero,  who  was  flying  for  his  life 
across  the  arena  to  the  barrier.  No.  89  was 
gaining  on  him  at  every  bound.  It  seemed 
impossible  for  the  man  to  escape.  The  bull 
was  going  to  get  him  ! 

The  man  was  now  about   fifteen   yards   from 


A     I'KAMr     IN     Sl'AlN. 


'39 


the  barrier.  The  horns  of  tlie  bull  were  loiiehing 
liim.  Me  was  done  for.  But  he  made  a 
sudden  spurt,  reached  the  barrier,  and  was 
just  lialf  leaping,  half  scaling  it  when  the  bull 
struck  terribly  with  its  horns,  smashing  and 
splintering  the  wood  of  the  barrier  just  under 
the  man  s  body.  Bull  and  man  came  up  into 
the  air  at  the  same  time,  but  the  l)ull  fell  back 
on  the  arena  side  of  the  barrier,  whilst  the  man 
fell  over  on  the  side  towards  the  spectators.  It 
was  the  most  e.xciting  thing  that  had  happened 
yet.  lilveryone  cheered  No.  89.  I  cheered 
him  myself. 

Things  went  on  for  a  time  till  at  last,  more 
by  accident  than  anything  else,  a  banderillero 
managed  to  plant  a  dart  in  his  neck.  And  then 
the  matador  came  out   to   kill   him.      He  waved 


l-roill  il] 


'  1 , 1;  I  I .    X  "c  I 


his  red  cloth,  but  No.  89  was  too  wily  to  come 
as  he  WTS  wanted  to.  He  made  a  sudden,  swift 
detour  and  charged  from  one  side.  'ihe 
matador  got  out  of  his  way  and  faced  him 
again  ;  but  the  movements  of  the  gallant  little 
bull  were  so  quick  and  elusive  that  it  was  im- 
possible for  the  matador  to  aim  the  thrust  of 
his  swonl  for  the  vital  point.  The  bull  fronted 
him  — a  hurtling,  quick-moving,  comjjact  mass. 

The  bull  lunged  and  the  matador  lunged.  In  ! 
The  sword  was  in  ;  but  it  had  gone  too  far  to 
the  side.  The  matador  was  running  off  now  to 
the  barrier  to  get  another  sword.  The  little 
bull  was  rushing  on  its  way,  quicker  and  more 
ferocious  than  ever.  The  sword  had  not  reached 
the  vital  place  ;  it  was  only  as  a  goad  to  him. 


The  people  were  shouting  maledictions  upon 
the  matador.  The  stroke  was  bad.  He  liad 
no  right  to  be  a  matador.  The  meaning  of 
what  they  were  shouting  was  plain.  They  were 
reviling  the  nuin  who  had  taken  his  life  in  his 
hand  :  "  Malo  matador  !  Malo  matador !  Malo 
matador  !  "  The  meaning  of  the  sliouts  was 
not  to  be  mistaken. 

He  planted  another  sword  in  the  bull  — 
this  time  too  much  to  the  left.  And  I 
thought  the  people  would  go  mad.  "  Malo  ! 
Malo  I"  sounded  all  over  the  arena.  No.  89 
was  now  plunging  round  the  arena  with  two 
swords  in  him.  I  felt  sorry  for  both  the  man 
and  the  bull  ;  and  I  wished  that  the  bull  could 
get  in  amongst  the  peoi)le — the  people  who 
were  yelling  "  Malo  ! " 

The  trumpets  now 
sounded  and  blared  over 
the  arena.  This  time  their 
meaning  was  one  of  blame 
for  the  matador.  The 
sound  of  the  trumpets 
meant  that  it  was  time 
that  the  bull  was  killed — 
that  the  matador  was 
neither  sure  nor  quick. 
If  only  the  fellows  who 
were  blowing  the  trumpets 
from  a  safe,  high  place 
could  have  been  put  into 
the  arena  in  front  of  the 
bull  themselves  I 

The  matador  leaned 
against  the  barrier.  He 
looked  crestfallen.  This 
was  his  first  big  bull-fight 
— his  first  real  chance. 
And  the  shouting  of 
"  Malo  :  Malo  !  "  meant 
that  he  would  never  get 
such  a  chance  again.  It 
meant  that  his  livelihood 
would  he  be 
Seville. 


again 


was      gone.        Never 

allowed    to     fight     in     the     ring     in 

The    yelling    people  were  as   merciless  to  him 

as  they  were  to  the   bulls.      A   man  to  please 

them  had  to  be  strong  and  sure,  and.  above  all, 

to  have  luck. 

Two  tame  bulls  were  brought  uuo  tiic  aiena. 
They  had  big  bells  round  their  necks,  and  they 
were  brought  in  so  as  to  help  to  get  the  little 
bull  from' the  arena.  The  fate  of  No.  89  was 
that  it  should  be  killed  outside.  It  had  fought 
gallantly  lor  its  lite,  but  there  was  only  death  for 
it  in  the  end.  And  its  victory  in  the  arena 
meant  ruin  for  the  matador,  who  was  still  lean- 
ing against  the  barrier. 

In  times  of  stress  kind  comes   to  kind,  even 


140 


THE  widp:  world  magazine. 


though  circumstances  are  against  the  meeting. 
The  enraged  wild  bull  at  first  tried  to  gore  the 
tame  bulls  But  they  paid  no  need  to  him. 
They  only  ran  round  the  arena  with  the  bells 
round  their  necks— clanging.  And  in  the  end 
the  wild  bull  joined  with  them,  and  the  three  of 
them  passed  from  the  arena  out  through  the 
door  of  the  tonl. 

Now  came  the  picadors — ^mounted  toreros. 
They  galloped  around,  armed  with  long  pikes. 
As  yet  they  had  taken  no  part  in  the  fighting. 
But  when  the  fifth  bull  came  out  of  the  tonl 
they  appeared  in  the  arena.  They  were  not 
well  mounted.  Their  horses  were  old  and  worn, 
and  each  had  a  patch  of  canvas  over  one  eye. 
This  was  so  that  it  could  be  urged  up  to  the 
bull  on  its  blind  side. 

A  picador  galloped  up  to  the  bull  and  prodded 
him  with  the  pike.  The  bull  turned  and,  in  a 
flash,  overthrew  horse  and  rider.  The  man 
managed  to  clear  himself  from  the  saddle  as 
his  mount  was  falling  ;    the  horse  was  killed. 

This    bull    killed    three    horses    before    the 
matador  advanced  upon  it.     He  was  a  young, 
good-looking    fellow,   this    matador.       His    face 
was   brave  and    hard.     This 
was   his    first    big    bull-fight 
also,   and    I   was  wondering 
how    he    would    do.        His 
name     was     Jos^     Campos 
(('amj)ito).    Campito  was  the 
name    he   had    chosen    as   a 
torero.     He   killed    the    bull 
at  a  stroke. 

A  diversion  was  created 
during  the  fight  with  the 
next  bull.  A  boy  of  about 
seventeen— one  of  the  spec 
tators  -  slipped  past  the 
guards,  climbed  the  barrier, 
and  gained  the  arena.  He  ran 
over  to  where  the  bull  was 
Mantling,  watching,  with  its 
head  lowered.     He  passed  in 


between  it  and  a  picador  and  drew  its  attention. 
The  bull  charged  the  boy — and  caught  him  — 
and  tossed  him.  But  the  boy  fell  on  his  feet, 
unhurt,  like  a  cat.  Now  he  faced  the  bull,  and 
when  the  bull  charged  him  again  he  evaded  him 
as  skilfully  as  any  torero.  But  at  the  next 
charge  he  was  caught  and  tossed  again.  He 
fell  in  the  same  manner  as  before  —  unhurt  ! 

All  this  happened  before  anyone  could 
interfere  —  the  spectators  cheering  madly. 
Here  was  a  future  matador  !  Here  was  one 
who  in  time  would  become  a  great  torero  ! 
But  when  the  bull  was  drawn  off  to  another  part 
of  the  arena  two  guards  got  over  the  barrier 
and  arrested  the  boy.  He  was  taken  out  of 
the  ring  whilst  the  crowd  shouted  out  against 
the  guards. 

The  eighth  bull  was  at  last  near  its  end,  and 
the  guards  were  now  allowing  the  spectators  to 
get  over  the  barrier  into  the  arena.  It  was  the 
usual  custom  at  the  end  of  the  day's  fight.  I 
got  down  into  the  arena  myself,  and  ran  around 
with  the  rest  of  the  people  whilst  the  bull  was 
still  charging  about.  It  seemed  to  me  that  I 
might  just  as  well  take  a  chance  as  anyone 
else.  But  after  all  there 
was  no  real  danger.  The 
bull  was  too  far  gone. 

And  here  was  the  end  of 
the  fight — and  the  end  of 
the  day.  The  trumpets 
were  sounding  through  the 
arena  and  the  peo[)le  were 
going  home.  Twilight  was 
fading  into  darkness.  The 
glare  and  the  shade  were 
now  softened  and  made 
one.  The  vast  multitude 
was  passing  away,  and  the 
streets  outside  the  bull- 
ring were  packed  with 
masses  of  slow  -  mo ving 
people,  all  talking  of  toros 
and  matadors. 


'■  V •     ""■    ViPUNfi    MAlAD'iU    Willi    Kill. 11)    Ills 

l-rom  n\  uui.i,  at  a  stkoki:.  [I'ltolo. 


TRAPPED    BY   A    TREE. 


\'>\     W  .    J.     MoWI'.KAV. 

Being  an  account  of  the  terrible  experience  which  befell  an  Australian  bushman.     While  at  work  in  the 

lonely  box-tree  forests  of  the  South   he  was  pinned  by  the  hand   between   the  two  halves  of  a  great  log. 

Here  he  remained,  a  helpless  prisoner,  for  several  days,  suffering  terrible  agonies  from  hunger  and  ihirst. 

Assistance  came  just  in  the  nick  of  time  through  the  instrumentality  of  a  snared  opossum. 


•',.\l  IJ )  iDUiid  the  camp-fire  one 
st;iilit  iii.ulit,  near  the  beautiful  "City 
of  the  Plains,"'  I  heard  the  following 
story  from  the  lips  of  an  old  weather- 
beaten  bushman,  whose  left  hand 
hung  limp  and  useless  at  his  side. 

It  was  quite  dark  when  I  came  at  last  to  the 
gate  in  the  long  fence  which  skirted  the  lonely 
bush  road.  On  the  opposite  side  of  the  track 
the  ghostly  outlines  of  numberless  bleached  and 
ring-barked  box-trees  loomed  out  of  the  silent 
darkness.  Over  the  gate  at  which  I  leaned  a 
broad  sweep  of  undulating  pasture  land  stretched 
away  to  the  homestead,  where  the  lights  were 
twinkling  in  the  low  windows  with  a  ruddy  glow. 

A  momentary  glance  at  the  scene  around  me 
and  I  swung  oi)en  the  wide  gate  of  the 
station  paddock  andwent  down  the  now 
almost  invisible  bridle-path  which  led  to 
the  homestead.  Crossing  the  pasture 
land,  I  passed  under  the  boughs  of  tiie 
belt  of  poplars  which  skirted  the  home- 
stead, thence  under  the  low  stone  walls 
of  the  station  orchards  and  across  the 
swinging  plank  bridge  which  spanned 
the  willow-hung  creek,  until  I  stood  on 
the  rose-trellised  veranda,  and,  tapping 
at  the  door,  asked  to  see  the  squatter. 
A  moment  later  he  appeared — a  tall, 
bearded,  middle-nged  man,  with  a  shrewd 
face  and  a  kindly  eye.  Without  loss  of 
time  I  briefly  explained  my  errand. 

He  led  the  way  into  the  house,  and  we 
soon  fell  to  discussing  the  terms  and 
conditions  of  the  proposed  contract. 
These,  however,  are  immaterial  to  the 
present  narrative,  and  all  I  need  say  is 
that  I  finally  undertook  the  work,  and 
inrjuired  where  the  scene  of  my  future 
operations  was  to  be. 

"  It  is  too  dark  to  show  you  ju<l 
where  the  spot  is,"  replied  the  squatter, 
thoughtfully.  "  But  I  think  you  are 
bushman  enough  to  follow  my  directions.  ^; 

If  you  go  due  westward  from  this  station 
you  will  cross  four  paddocks  before  you 
reach  timber.  .Strike  the  bush  near  the 
white  slip-rails  in  the  last  fence,  and 
continue  due  westward  for  three  miles. 
There  you  will  find  a  patch  of  fifty  acres 


which  I  had  cleared  a  year  ago.  Cross  this  and 
again  enter  the  bu.sh,  still  proceeding  in  the  same 
direction,  until  you  have  j^ut  another  three  miles 
i)etween  yourself  and  the  old  clearing,  then  camp, 
and  work  in  a  circle  round  you  until  the  fifty 
acres  are  complete.  Grub  and  burn  everything 
as  you  go,  and  come  into  the  station  every  week 
or  so  for  provisions.  I  will  come  and  have  a 
look  at  you  in  a  week's  time  to  see  how  you  are 
getting  on.  I  think  that  is  all  I  need  .say.  Of 
course,  you  can  get  anything  you  want  from  the 
station  storekeeper." 

I  thanked  him  and,  satisfied  with  the 
arrangement,  left  the  house  and  returned  to  the 
township — some  four  miles  or  so  to  the  north-east 
of  the  station — to  get  together  my  few,  but  indis- 
pensable  belongings  and  to  await  the  morrow. 


"  VVK    FKI.I.   TO   DKCOSSINC   THK   TKIIMS   AND    CONDITIONS. 


142 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


Early  the  next  morning  1  once  more  set  out 
for  the'  station,  where  I  straightway  opened  an 
account  with  the  storekeeper  by  the  purchase  of 
a  week's  supply  of  fresh  and  salt  meat,  flour, 
tea,  sugar,  tobacco,  and  matches.  I  strapped 
the  somewhat  bulky  package  on  to  the  front 
of  my  already  burdensome  swag,  and,  with  my 
two  American  axes,  tomahawk,  wedges,  and  flint 
in  my  hands  and  over  my  free  shoulder,  set  out 
for  the  scene  of  my  future  labours. 

Thus  burdened,  it  is  scarcely  to  be  wondered 
at  that  my  progress  was  not  remarkable  either 
for  speed  or  for  the  pleasure  which  accompanied 
It  ,  so  that,  after  covering  the  first  three  miles 
of  bush,  crossing  the  old  clearing,  and  again 
entering  timber,  1  was  not  altogether  dissatisfied 
by  the  sight  of  a  thin  column  of  blue  smoke 
curling  upwards  through  the  dense  bush  not  a 
hundred  yards  ahead  of  me.  It  was  now  mid- 
day, and  the  prospect  of  a  good  rest  under  the 
shady  branches  of  the  box-trees,  with  someone 
to  talk  to  into  the  bargain,  was  eminently  agree- 
able. Presently  the  white  canvas  of  a  bush-tent 
gleamed  through  the  tall  scrub,  and  a  moment 
later  I  emerged  into  a  comparatively  open  space 
among  the  trees,  and  stood  face  to  face  with  the 
man  who  was  to  be  my  "next-door  neighbour" 
for  some  time  to  come,  and  who,  though  all 
unkno.vn  to  me,  was  to  be  the  means  of  deliver- 
ing me  (roin  a  terrible  death. 

ills  occupation  was  sufficiently  mdicated  by 
the  task  upon  which  he  was  engaged.  The 
snaring  of  opossums  is  an  employment  which, 
at  one  season  of  the  year  at  least,  is  not 
unprofitable.  Flat  sheets  of  bark  were  propped 
l»ere  and  there  around  the  camp-fire,  and  upon 
each  sheet  the  skin  of  an  opossum  was 
stretched,  fur  downwards,  towards  the  redden- 
ing embers.  liy  this  primitive  [)rocess  the 
skins  Were  dried,  or  "cured,"  preparatory  to 
iheir  collection  liy  the  fur  travellers  who 
annually  scour  the  country.  When  1  came 
upon  him  the  man  was  kneeling  on  the  ground 
n.\ing  fresh  skins  to  other  sheets  of  bark. 
A  Iragment  of  dead  wood  served  as  a 
hammer,  and  a  small  tin  of  horse-shoe 
n.iils  lay  on  the  ground  beside  him.  On 
the  op|)osile  side  of  the  fire  a  watchful 
sheep  dog  was  lying  with  his  nose  between  his 
fore  paws,  intently  wntching  his  master,  but  at 
my  approach  he  looked  up  and  growled.  Some 
newly  made  snares  were  also  lying  on  the  ground, 
and,  as  one  of  these  innocent-looking  trifles 
pl.iyed  no  inconsiderable  part  in  the  story  I  am 
about  to  relate,  some  brief  description  of  their 
construction  is  pcrha|)s  necessary.  The  trapper 
takes  a  short  length  of  coarse  twine  and  another 
of  fine  wire.  Placing  the  ends  of  botii  together, 
he  rubs  the  two  between  his  palm   and  the  leg 


of  his  stout  moleskin  trousers  until  they  become 
united.     Then,  in  one  end  of  the  twisted   line 
he  forms  a  loop,  through  which   he   passes  the 
other  end,  and  so  forms  a  running  noose.    Select- 
ing a  tree  whose  bark  bears  unmistakable  signs 
of  the  frequent  transit  of  opossums  to  and  from 
the  upper  branches,  the  trapper  leans  a  long  dead 
bough  against   the  trunk,  and   affixes  his  snare 
upon  it  by  tying  the  loose  end  tightly  round  the 
bough  and  leaving  the  noose  free.     The  object 
of  the  wire  is  here  apparent,   for,  by  stiffening 
the  otherwise  limp  twine,  it  makes  the  noose 
stand    upright    in   a   circle   above   the   leaning 
branch.       When  night  falls,    the  opossum,  whc 
has  slumbered  all  day  in  the  tree-top,  descends 
to  the  earth  in  search  of  food,  and,  discovering 
as  he   nears   the  ground  a  less   perpendicular 
means  of  descent,  walks  down  the  dead  branch 
and    passes    unconsciously    through    the    open 
noose,  which,  tightening  about  his  body  as  he 
proceeds,  finally  pulls  him   up  with  a  jerk  and 
holds  him  prisoner  until  the  arrival,  the  follow- 
ing   morning,    of    the    expectant    trapper,    who 
quickly    dispatches      the     imprisoned     animal. 
Sometimes    it     happens    that    an    exceptionally 
large   opossum    finds    himself    hampered    with 
an    exceptionally    small    branch,    and    in    such 
cases  he  will  not  only  drag  the  bough  down  to 
the  ground,  but   will  pull   it  after  him    through 
the  dense  bush   for  a  mile  or  so,  and   thus  give 
the  trapper  a  good  hunt  for  his  prey.     This  cir- 
cumstance,  fortunately  for   myself,  occurred,  as 
you   will   presently  see,  to  the  tra[)per  who  nov.' 
stood  before  me. 

I  bade  him  good-bye,  and,  once  more  "hump- 
ing "  my  burdensome  "  swag,"  continued  my 
journey  through  the  remaining  three  nules  of 
bush  which  still  sej)aratcd  me  from  my  future 
camp.  I  soon  reached  the  spot,  and,  selecting  a 
piece  of  clear  rising  ground,  put  up  my  bush-tent 
with  as  little  delay  as  possible — for  by  this  time 
the  afternoon  was  well  advanced — and  made 
everything  snug  and  secure  for  the  night. 

Early  the  next  morning  I  connnenced  my 
labours,  and  the  silent  solitudes  of  the  great 
bush  awoke  to  the  ring  of  the  axe  and  the 
crash  of  mighty  trees  struck  down  in  their 
prime.  And  so  a  week  went  by,  each  day 
echoing  with  the  strokes  of  my  destroying  blade, 
and  each  night  aglow  with  the  red  fires  which 
consumed  the  falKn  giants  of  the  wood. 

At  the  end  of  the  week  I  revisited  the  home- 
stead to  procure  a  fresh  sup[)ly  of  provisions, 
having  a  friendly  smoke  and  a  chat  with  the 
trapper  on  my  way  back  to  camp,  and  the  follow- 
ing day  the  S(juatter  rode  in  to  overlook  the  work. 

"  Uy  the  way,"  he  said,  after  approving  what 
had  been  done,  "  have  you  got  your  wedges 
with  you  ?" 


TRAPPED     ]',\    A     I'KVM. 


M3 


Now-.  . 
HH»JU-f 


'■  Yes,"  I  said,  nnd  brought  tlu-ni  out  of  my 
lent. 

"Well,"  said  he,  pointing  to  a  huge  straight 
box-tree  which  was  still  standing,  "I  want  a  few 
good  planks  for  I)uilding  purposes,  and  I  think 
thut  tree  wo  ild  be  just  the  thing.  I  see  it  is 
out  of  your  way  at  present,  but  there  is  no 
iiumediate  hurry.  When  you  come  to  that 
particular  tree,  cut  it  off  as  near  the  ground 
as  possible,  and  then  split  the  trunk  right 
up  the  middle  with  ycnir  wedges.  I  will 
send  a  roujjle  of  l)ullock-:eanis  in  about  a 
fortnight's  time  to  draw  the  two  halves  home  to 
the  station.  Of  course,  I  will  pay  you  whatever 
you  deem  reasonable  for  the  e.xtra  work." 

I  thanked  him  and  readily  undertook  the 
task,  and  he  soon  after  rode  away  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  homestead. 

The  following    morning    I  went   over  to  ih-i 


-reat  box-tree  which  the  squatter 
had  pointed  out,     'I'he  gap  in  the 
great    trunk     gaped    wider     an.l 
deeper,  and  the  white  splinters  of 
ap-laden    wood    flew   faster   and 
faster  beneath   the  stroke  of  the 
relentless  blade.     And  then  th'  • 
came    a    gentle    swaying    of    tu_ 
stately  tree,  a  rustling  among  the 
myriad  leaves  overhead,  a  sjilinter- 
ing    of  rending    wood,   a   sudden 
surging,  as  of  a  great  sea  lashed 
into  uncontrollable  fury,  the  crack- 
ing and   bursting  of  a    thousand 
boughs,  and  a  roar  as  of  a  mighty 
wind,  and  the  great  giant  of  the 
forest  crashed  to  the  ground  with 
a  thud  that  shook  the  earth  and 
startled  the  denizens  of  the  silent 
bush    from    their    midday   sleep. 
Then,  having  lopped  off  all   the 
branches    which     had    not    been 
broken   in   the   fall    of  the   great 
tree,    I    began    the  more    serious 
and  difficult  task  of  splitting  the 
giant  trunk   evenly  from  end  to 
end.     A  strong  stroke  of  my  axe- 
blade  left  a  long,  narrow  gash  in 
the   great    trunk,    from    which     I 
already  had  stripped  off  the  bark, 
and  within  this  slit  I   inserted  the 
thin  end  of  a  small  steel  wedge, 
upon  the  upper  and  thicker  end 
of  which  I  brought  down  the  butt 
of  the  long-handled  axe  with  great 
swinging   strokes.       At    first    the 
fallen  log  withstood  the  surely  in- 
creasing strain,  but  at  last  a  sharp 
report    rang    out,    like   the    crack 
of  a  rifle,  and  the  slit   suddenly 
lengthened  and  widened,  while  the  wedge  sank 
deep  into  the  gaping  wood.     'I'hen,  some  three 
inches     from     the     buried     wedge,     I     inserted 
another,    larger   than   the  first,    and    again    the 
vigorous   blows  of  the  axe-head  drove  it   ileep 
into  the  white  wood,  while  the  great  log  strained 
and  cracked  and  gaped  yet  wider,  and  the  first 
wedge  grew  loose  in   the  growing  aperture.     I 
therefore  withdrew  it,  and  inserted  a  third  beside 
the  one  which   now  remained   firmly  embedded 
in    the    great    trunk.     The    driving    in    of    this 
loosened  the  second  in  like  manner,  and,  draw- 
ing it  out,   I   re  inserted   it   failher  up  the  gap, 
where  the  aperture  was  narrower.     Thus,   using 
the  wedges  alternately,  I   made  the  gap   in  the 
fallen  tree  grow  longer  and  deeper  and   wider, 
to    the    running    accompaniment    of    rending, 
sj)lintering  wood,   until   the   terrible   thing  hap- 
{)eneJ    the  mere  recollection  of  which,  even   to 


THE  SILENT  SOLITUDES  AWOKE 
TO  THE  RISC.  OF  THE  AXE." 


144 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


sufficicnllv 


this  day,  calls   forth  an   involuntary  shudder  of 
liorror. 

I  had  driven  one  of  the  big  wedges   into  the 
hard  white  wood  and  throwing  my  axe  upon  one 
side  —  for    I   was    tired  with    the    exertion    and 
intended    taking   a  short    rest— I    put    my   left 
hand   into   the  aperture  to   remove   its  prede- 
cessor.      But     before    I     could    withdraw    it 
the  firm  wedge  sprang  from  its   position   and, 
the   aperture   creaking   and    narrowing    as    the 
wedge  slipped  upwards,  the  great  white  mouth 
of  the  gaping  trunk  closed  about  my  hand  and 
held   it  as   in  a   vice  !     Vainly   I  attempted  to 
extricate  it  from  the  powerful  grip   of  the  great 
log.     Then,    feeling   in    my   pockets,    I    found 
another   wedge,    and    placing   it   close   to    my 
imprisoned   hand    turned    to    grasp    the     axe 
with     which     to     drive     it      into      the     aper- 
ture.    This,    I    could   see,    would 
widen  the  gap   to   enable   me   to 
withdraw  my  hand,  which   by  this 
time  was  losing  its  first  sensation 
of   numbness   and   becoming    in- 
tensely painful.      But,   to  my  un- 
speakable horror,  the  axe  lay  upon 
the    ground    beyond    my    reach ! 
Stretching  myself  out  at  full  length, 
and  as  far  as  my  imprisoned  hand 
would  allow,  I  almost  touched  it 
with  my  foot.     Farther  and  farther 
I   strained,   till  great  drops  stood 
upon  my  forehead  and  trickled  into 
my  beard,  and  every  muscle  stood 
out,   hard   and    tense,   under   the 
terrible    strain  —  farther   and    yet 
farther,  till  my  foot  actually  touched 
the  tip  of  the  white  axe  -  handle. 
Then,    unable    to    continue    the 
terrible  tension  of  nerve  and 
muscle,  I  fell  exhausted  beside  the 
log,  with  strained  sinews  and  throb- 
bing temples,  and  wondered  what 
next  I   should  do  to  free  myself 
from  that  relentless  grip. 

First  I  looked  about  for  a  billet 
of  wood  with  which  to  drive  in  the 
wfdge,  but  there  were  none  within 
my  reach.  Even  the  boughs  I  had 
lopped  from  the  fallen  tree  were 
lying  some  distance  farther  up  the 
.L;rtat  trunk,  even  farther  removed 
than  my  axe.  Then  I  caught  sight 
of  the  wedge  which  had  sprung, 
and,  leaping  to  my  feet,  I  tore 
blindly  at  it,  in  a  fren/ied  attempt 
to  release  the  lower  half  of  the 
bright  steel  from  the  grip  of  the 
great  log.  But  it  had  only  sprung 
half  w.iy  out  of  the  white  wood,  and, 


though  I  tore  at  the  upper  end  of  the  wedge 
wilii  the  strength  of  despair  and  until  the  fingers 
of  my  free  hand  were  torn  and  lacerated  by  the 
sharp  burred  edges  of  the  oft-hammered  steel, 
the  grip  of  the  great  log  was  as  firm  and 
immovable  about  the  half-released  wedge 
as  about  my  crushed  and  throbbing  fingers. 
Could  I  but  have  withdrawn  this  wedge, 
I  might  have  used  it  to  batter  in  the  other. 
And  then  another  thought  flashed  into  my 
mind  and  inspired  me  with  renewed  hope. 
If  I  could  not  use  the  imprisoned  wedge  to 
drive  in  the  one  I  had  just  inserted,  why  not 
re\erse  the  position  and  hammer  in  the  former 
by  means  of  the  latter?  Instantly  acting  upon 
this  suggestion,  I  gripped  the  free  wedge  with 
frenzied  fingers,  and  battered  the  head  of  the 
other  with  all  the  strength  of  a  last  and  des- 
perate hope.     But,  alas  !  the  wedge  I  held  was 


THE   (iAI'lNc;    IHUNK    tl.OSKIJ    AIIOUI     MV    HAND." 


TRAPPED     15V     A    'PRKE. 


'45 


the  small  one  with  which  I  had  commenced 
operations  u[)on  the  great  log,  and  though  1 
struck  the  imprisoned  wedge  till  my  breath 
came  in  long,  laboured  gasps  and  the  great 
drops  of  perspiration  ran  into  my  smarting  eyes, 
not  a  fibre  of  the  great  log  relaxed,  and  I 
realized  that  this  hope,  too,  was  a  hope  no  longer. 

Again  I  tried  to  reach  the  axe — stretching 
myself  out  at  full  length  and  straining  every 
sinew  in  a  perfect  paroxysm  of  unutterable 
despair  -and  again  my  foot  just  touched  the  tip 
of  the  white  curved  handle,  but  would  reach  no 
farther.  And  then,  in  unspeakable  misery  and 
hopelessness,  I  sank  with  a  low  cry  upon  the 
trampled  turf  by  the  side  of  my  ghastly  trap, 
and  watched,  with  aching  eyeballs,  while  the 
great  crimson  sun  sank  down  among  the  foliage 
of  the  western  forest.  And  when  the  stars  came 
out  in  their  legions  they  beheld  the  prostrate 
figure  of  a  despairing  man,  with  parched  tongue 
and  cracking  lips,  waiting  for  a  death  whose 
steps  are  terribly  slow. 

AH  through  that  long  and  terrible  night  I  lay 
upon  the  great  log  and  tossed  feverishly  from 
side  to  side,  with  a  mind  which  was  fast  giving 
way  within  me.  But  one  idea  possessed  me, 
and  sent  a  faint  ray  of  renewed  hope  tingling 
through  my  veins.  The  trapper  !  His  camp, 
it  is  true,  was  three  miles  to  the  eastward,  and 
I  knew  I  could  not  hope  to  make  myself 
heard  at  so  great  a  distance.  But  would  he 
not  be  abroad  early  in  the  morning,  to  gather 
in  his  spoils  and  reset  his  snares  ?  And  might 
I  not  hope  that,  by  some  fortuitous  circum- 
stance, he  might  come  within  the  radius  of 
my  voice,  and,  responding  thereto,  deliver  me 
from  this  dreadful  death  ?  So,  when  the  morn- 
ing dawned  and  the  laughing-jackasses  sent  up 
their  weird,  unearthly  greeting  to  the  rising  sun, 
I  put  my  free  hand  up  to  my  dry,  parched  lips 
and  sent  forth  the  high-pitched  "Coo-ee  !"  of 
the  bush  into  the  silent  solitudes  on  every  hand. 
But  the  faint  morning  breeze  brought  no  re- 
sponse. Again  and  again  I  repeated  the  cry, 
till  my  tongue  dried  in  my  mouth  and  my 
voice  grew  hoarse  as  a  raven's.  But  no  one 
answered.  No  voice  but  that  of  Nature  dis- 
turbed the  stillness  of  the  dense  bush.  White 
yellow-crested  cockatoos  and  green  and  crimson 
parrakeets  skimmed  lightly  overhead,  the  locusts 
rattled  unceasingly  in  the  sap-laden  scrub,  and  a 
glittering  snake  rustled  among  the  tussocks  of 
tall  grass  which  grew  in  the  open  spaces  among 
the  trees.  But  no  more  welcome  sound  than 
these  came  to  me  all  through  that  long  and 
terrible  day  of  unutterable  torture,  and  again 
the  sun  dipped  down  in  the  west. 

Hunger  had  now  taken  hold  on  me,  but  its 
pangs   were   as   nothing  to  the  torments  of  my 

Vol.  X.-19. 


ever-increasing  thirst.  My  blistered  tongue 
protruded  from  my  mouth  and  my  sight  grew 
dim  and  distorted.  Ever  and  anon  my  brain 
seemed  to  stand  still.  Then  it  would  rush 
on  again  in  a  mad  whirl,  which  I  was  unable 
to  control,  until  once  again  it  stood  still,  as  if 
gathering  strength  for  the  next  paroxysm.  And 
so  the  night  closed  in  upon  me,  still  lying 
helpless  and  hopeless,  and  the  stars  came  out 
again  to  look  upon  the  scene.  Soon  great 
black  storm  clouds  came  up  and  I  knew 
that  rain  was  at  hand  !  How  I  thanked 
Heaven  for  the  precious  drops  which  I  knew 
would  soon  moisten  my  blistered  tongue  and 
parched  throat  !  Nearer  came  the  dark 
draperies  of  the  storm  until  they  were  almost 
overhead.  Then  the  storm  burst  in  all  its  [)ent- 
up  fury.  The  glowing  heavens  flashed  with  lurid 
tongues  of  flame,  and  an  echoing  cannonade 
of  thunder  rent  the  air.  The  giants  of  the 
forest  strained  and  groaned  and  heaved  as  the 
wind  shrieked  madly  through  their  twisted 
boughs.  One  after  another,  torn  up  by  the  roots, 
crashed  to  the  earth  amid  a  splintering  of  rending 
boughs.  And  then  the  rain  came  down  —  hissing, 
blinding,  seething,  like  a  mighty  torrent.  And, 
oh  !  how  eagerly  I  lapped  the  cool,  delicious 
drops  and  gulped  them  down  my  parched 
throat !  Even  when  the  storm  had  abated  I 
tore  off  the  collar  of  riiy  bush-shirt  and,  dipping 
it  again  and  again  into  the  narrow  stream  of 
water  which  the  rain  had  left  in  the  trough  of 
the  great  log,  squeezed  the  precious  drops  into 
my  mouth.  Soon  the  stars  peeped  forth  again, 
and  the  storm-clouds  disappeared  above  the 
trees.  And  so  the  night  wore  on  till  morning 
dawned  once  more  in  the  east,  and  the  sun  rose 
up  to  light  another  day. 

Again  I  put  forth  my  feeble  voice  in  a  vain 
endeavour  to  attract  the  attention  of  my  neigh- 
bour the  trapper.  But  all  to  no  purpose.  Then 
I  began  to  wonder  whether  he  would  be 
attracted  to  the  spot  by  the  mysterious  extin- 
guishing of  my  fires,  which,  slowly  burning 
themselves  out  since  my  captivity,  had  now 
been  entirely  quenched  by  the  rain.  If  not,  I 
felt  that  my  extremity  was  indeed  a  terrible  one. 
At  least  ten  days  must  elapse  before  the  arrival 
of  the  bullock-teams  to  carry  home  the  log,  and 
I  knew  I  could  never  last  till  then.  No  ;  my 
only  hope  was  in  the  trapper,  and  even  he  might 
fail  to  reach  me  until  too  late.  The  night  had 
brought  me  relief,  but  as  the  day  advanced  my 
agonies  returned  anew,  and  the  torments  of 
hunger  and  thirst  took  fresh  hold  upon  me.  All 
that  day  my  sufferings  increased,  and  night 
found  me  restless  and  deliriou.s,  talking  in- 
coherently and  disconnectedly  to  myself  between 
the  occasional  fits  of  stupor  which  came  over  me. 


146 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


Another  day  and  another  night  came  and  went, 
and  there  was  no  change.  And  still  another  day 
and  another  night  passed  over  my  head,  and  in 
the  darkness  of  that  night  I  prayed  for  death 
as  fervently  as  some  men  pray  for  life.  But 
it  came  not. 

Still  another  day  went  by,  and  in  the  silence 
of  the  night  which  followed  it  I  heard  a  rustling 
sound  among  the  trees,  but  knew  not  whence  it 
came.  Again  and  again  I  caught  the  sound, 
but  death  had  so  far  claimed  me  for  his  own 
that  the  power  of  reasoning  out  the  cause  had 
long  since  left  me,  and  I  could  only  lie  and 
listen  to  the  sound  in  a  bewildered,  apathetic 
way.  But  when  the  morning  dawned  I  almost 
shrieked  for  joy,  for  there,  upon  the  groinid, 
was  a  huge  opossum,  tugging  at  a  dry,  dead 
bough,  which  was  fastened  to  his  body  by  the 
trapper's  snare.  And  then  I  knew  no  more,  for 
consciousness  deserted 
me,  and  I  sank  helpless 
to  the  ground. 

I  awoke  to  hear 
the  ring  of  steel 
against  steel,  and, 
looking  up  from 
where  I  lay,  I  saw 
the  tall  tlgure  of 
the  trapper  swing- 
ing the  a.xe  above 
his  head  and  driv- 
ing the  wedge  deep 
into  the  gaping 
wood.  In  another 
moment  my  hand, 
ciushed  almost  to 
a  pulp,  dropped 
fronj  the  widen- 
irig  gap,  and  the 
trap[)er,  throwing 
down  his  axe, 
knell  down  beside 
nic. 


"  All  right,  old  chap,"  he  said,  with  infinite 
tenderness,  "  I'll  bring  some  water  and  a  little 
brandy  out  of  your  tent,  and  then  I'll  be  off 
to  the  homestead  as  fast  as  my  legs  can  carry 
me.  Keep  up  till  I  come  back."  And,  pressing 
my  hand,  he  was  gone,  almost  before  I  had 
realized  it. 

How  quickly  he  went  may  be  judged  from 
the  fact  that  in  less  than  two  hours  the  gallop- 
ing of  horses'  feet  caught  my  ear,  and  I  knew 
that  I  was  saved.  A  comfortable  stretcher  of 
bark  was  hastily  improvised,  and  I  was  conveyed 
to  the  homestead.  Just  before  leaving  the  scene 
of  my  ghastly  experience  I  noticed  the  big 
opossum  still  fettered  to  the  dead  branch,  and, 
beckoning  to  the  trapper,  I  begged  him  by 
signals— for  I  could  not  speak— to  let  the  poor 
beast  go.  Comprehending  me,  he  did  so,  and 
the  sight  of  that   terrified   creature   scampering 

off  into  the  dense  under- 
growth did  me  more 
good  than  I  can  tell. 

And  so  they 
carried  me  back 
to  the  station 
and,  with  careful 
nursing,  renewed 
within  me  the  life 
that  was  almost 
gone.  And  though 
this  h  a  n  d  will 
never  more  wield 
an  axe  there  are 
still  plenty  of  odd 
jobs  in  the  glori- 
ous bush  that 
come  within  my 
scope.  But  the 
one  thing  I  will  not 
do  is  to  set  snares 
for  the  little  crea- 
tures whose  fur  is 
so  soft  and  brown. 


^V>< 


ALL    KIGIIT,    OLD   CIIAl,'    liL:    SAIL)." 


How    the    Boers    Hunt. 

l!v     I'lKI.D-CORNKT    HeRCULKS    I).    \ll.JOKN. 

This  article— written  by  an  ex-officer  of  the  late  Boer  army— will  be  found  of  especial  interest.     It 

describes  the  curious  methods  of  hunting  employed  by   the   Boers,  who  carry  the  communal  system 

even  into  their  big-game  hunts.      Much  of  the  information  contained  in    the    paper  will  come  as  a 

surprise  even  to  sportsmen  who  have  visited  South  Africa. 


I  I  I',  lion,  slill  tlic  terror  of  the 
Northern  Tran.svaal,  remains  the 
most  imposing  game  of  Africa.  It 
seems  tliat  other  liunters  merely  go 
out  with  a  gun  and  kill  him,  but  this 
metliod  does  not  suit  us.  The  Afrikander  knows 
his  lion  as  he  knows  his  horse.  He  has  studied 
him  for  many  years ;  and  he  has  different 
orders  of  campaign  for  the  lion  on  the  open 
veldt  and  for  the  lion  in  the  "  nest,"  as  the  lair 
is  called.      He  knows  the  lion's  voice,  from  its 


only  so  much  as  grazes  the  tangled  meshes  of 
its  mane.  And  the  Afrikander  takes  immense 
precautions,   being  by  nature  a  prudent  man. 

A  lion  upon  the  veldt,  threatening  flock  and 
herd,  brings  every  veteran  hunter  of  the  vicinity 
hastening  to  some  farmhouse  rendezvous  in  the 
early  morning.  The  men  have  been  summoned 
by  the  farmer's  son,  for  it  would  be  an  insult  to 
send  a  Kaffir  boy  on  such  an  errand.  There 
may  be  twenty  in  the  party,  or  there  may  be 
more  ;  but   no  Boer  will  venture  on  the    hunt 


.\    I.IO.N    L'l'ON    THE    Vlil.Dl     llKl. 


i|       1  III;     \1C1M  1  V. 


puir  of  pleasure  to  the  deafening  reverberations 
of  its  angry  roar  ;  he  knows  the  lion's  power, 
from  his  lightning  bounds  to  the  felling  stroke 
of  his  tremendous  paw  ;  he  knows  the  lion's 
nature,  from  its  sublime  disdain  of  humanity 
when  it  has  no  reason  to  be  roused,  to  the 
uncjuenchable   volcano   of  its  wrath  if  a  bullet 


with,  fewer  than  four  companions.  The  mnjority 
carry  Martini  Henrys.  There  is  but  one  shot 
in  the  rifle  ;  but  the  leaden  bullet  spreads,  and 
is  three  times  as  deadly  as  the  Mauser's  steel- 
clad  cone.  No  hunter  is  invited,  and  no  one 
presents  himself,  who  lacks  the  rei)utation  for 
|)erfect  accuracy  of  aim  and  almost   more  than 


148 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


mortal  steadiness  of  nerve.  His  debut  as  a  lion- 
hunter  is  greater  than  an  event  in  the  hfe  of  the 
Transvaal  Boer— it  is  a  crisis.  When  the  party 
has  assembled  the  oldest  hunter  of  them  all  looks 
them  over,  like  an  officer  viewing  a  band  of  volun- 
teers for  a  forlorn  hope.  He  knows  the  history 
of  almost  every  shot  these  men  have  fired  ;  he 
knows,  usually,  the  characteristics  of  each  man 
present.  But  he  never  neglects  the  formula  of 
the  Boer  lion-hunter  —  the  Oath  of  Danger, 
which  is  renewed  with  each  fresh  enterprise : — 

"  Do  you  wish  to  hunt 
the  lion  ?  " 

They  answer  "Yes"  in 
resolute  assent.  Then 
comes  another  solemn 
question  :  — 

"  I  )o  you  swear  to  pro- 
tect the  man  who  is 
attacked  ?  " 

They  swear,  in  loyal 
uni.son.  The  third  ques- 
tion never  fails  to  stir  the 
hearts  of  the  assembled 
men  :  — 

"  Do  you  swear  to  shoot 
the  man  who  runs  from 
the  lion  ?  " 

It  is  the  final  oath,  and 
a  terrible  one,  but  they 
take  it,  every  one.  But 
still  another  chance  for 
withdrawal  is  given  any 
hunter  who  may  doubt  his 
courage  in  extremity. 

•'Whoever    wants    to 
stay    behind,"   says   the   veteran,    "  can    do   so 
now," 

There  is  no  record  of  any  wavering  among 
the  hunters ;  their  doubts  are  always  settled 
before  they  leave  their  homes.  The  veteran 
t'  mounres  that  he  will  act  as  leader.      He 

'-.  the  man  next  to  him  in  the  number  of 
his  encounters  with  lions  as  second  in  the 
troop.  And,  in  successive  numbers,  he  names 
the  rest,  according  to  the  measure  of  their 
experience  in  the  haz;irdous  work  ahead. 

With  the  Kaffir  tracker  in  advance,  the 
hunters  follow  the  lion's  spoor.  It  may  be 
hours  before  they  overtake  him,  but  they  never 
relintjuish  the  search  ;  they  never  rest  until  they 
are  upon  him.  How  many  instances  there  are 
in  which  the  lion  has  at  once  shown  fight  I  do 
not  know  ;  I  liave  not  heard  of  a  single  case. 
The  rule  is  that  the  monarch  of  the  veldt  prefers 
to  trot  away  rather  than  risk  a  combat  with  so 
many  foes.  The  horses  of  his  pursuers  break 
into  a  gallop  and  the  lion's  trot  becomes  a  long 
lope.     As    the    hoofs    behind    him    thud    more 


M; THOK,    I'lKl.tJ-COKNF.T    IIKRCUI.ES     D.    VII.JOE.N 

from  a  Photo. 


loudly  in  pursuit  he  speeds  away  in  arched  and 
flying  bounds,  until  the  distance  has  been 
lessened  to  a  short-range  rifle-shot.  The  leader 
of  the  hunters,  checking  his  steed  with  the 
inimitable  dexterity  of  the  Afrikander,  drops  to 
the  ground,  sinks  on  one  knee,  takes  careful 
aim,  and  fires. 

Unless  his  sworn  companions  prove  faithful 
to  their  oath  the  leader  is  foredoomed  to  death 
if  his  bullet  has  not  hit  a  vital  spot.  There  is 
no  time  to  reload  ;  there  is  no  hope  of  diverting 

the  lion's  wrath.  Instantly 
he  feels  the  wound ;  wuth 
mane  erect,  his  very  hair 
bristling  with  wrath,  the 
lion  turns  and  comes  in 
vengeful  leaps  towards  the 
kneeling  man.  The  other 
hunters,  jumping  swiftly  to 
tlie  ground,  have  dropped 
on  to  their  bended  knees 
with  ready  rifles.  They 
watch  the  lion  and  one 
another.  The  man  second 
in  precedence  fires  as  the 
lion  turns.  The  third  man 
follows  in  his  order. 
Wounded,  perhaps  fatally, 
the  lion  still  comes  on, 
and  the  bullets  seek  his 
tawny  sides  in  quick  suc- 
cession. 

One  man  alone  holds 
back  his  fire.  He  waits 
until  the  lion,  charging 
forward  irresistibly,  has 
stricken  and  seized  the  first  of  the  hunters  who 
wounded  him.  It  is  the  waiting  hunter's  part 
to  s[iring  to  the  lion's  side,  put  his  rifle  to  the 
brute's  ribs,  and  send  a  bullet  through  his  heart. 
The  rock-strewn  country  offers  innumerable 
inaccessible  S[)ots  where  lion  families  find  their 
refuge  and  their  home.  There  are  still  stories 
current  among  our  people  telling  of  courageous 
hunters  who  have  not  feared  to  face  a  brood 
of  lions  in  the  black  darkness  of  a  cavein, 
penetrating  into  its  recesses  with  a  torch  in 
one  hand  and  a  rille  in  the  other.  The  most 
systematic  lion-killing  that  was  ever  done  in 
dens  was  Ihe  work  of  a  Boer  named  Jan 
Schutte  and  his  two  brothers.  All  three  of 
them  were  sons  of  an  old  lion-hunter,  whose 
farm  lay  in  the  vicinity  of  Rustenburg.  The 
district  alxnmded  in  caverns,  and  in  one  of 
them  a  whole  troop  of  lions  nuule  their  lair. 
They  reared  their  young  in  its  remotest  depths; 
and  from  its  yawning  mouth  the  male  lions 
issued  nightly  to  prey  upon  the  herds. 

When    it  apfjcared    that    the   Schuttes   could 


HOW     THE    BOERS    HUNT. 


149 


have  i)[)Oii  the  fiimily  farm  citlier  lions  or  rattle, 
1)111  not  both,  the  boys,  as  a  last  resource,  had 
broad-wick  candles  made,  and  went  on  regular 
excursions  to  the  lions'  knr.  The  younger 
brothers,  with  their  candles  flaring  and  their 
trigger-fingers  set,  stationed  themselves  in  niches 
in  the  wall  of  the  cavern,  while  Jan  penetrated 
its  shadows  until  the  light  of  his  candle  revealed 
the  bodies  of  the  lions,  huddled  m  the  farthest 
alcove,  in  dread  of  the  dancing  flame.  He  took 
aim,  invariably,  at  the  oldest  male  lion,  and 
never  failed  lo  kill  him.  AV'ith  the  flash  and  the 
report  of  the  rifle  the  grown  lions,  male  and 
female,  dashed  past  him  toward  the  veldt.  As 
they  went  past  his  brothers  would  each  fire  a 
chance  shot,  and  sometimes  laid  another  lion 
low.  The  oldest  of  the  three,  for  his  part, 
remained  within,  searching  for  the  cubs,  and, 
finding  them,  slew  all  with  prompt  dispatch. 
Repeated  visits  to  the  den  within  a  period  of  a 
year  cleared  the  Schutte  farm  of  the  whole 
brood. 

The  modern  methods  of  lion-hunting  appear 
much  more  bold  than  the  organized  lion  hunts 
of  years  ago  in  the  same  district  of  Rustenburg, 
to  the  west  of  Pretoria.  Ilreechloaders  have 
made  the  difference.  In  those  old  days  the 
Easton  was  the  gun — an  English  muzzle-loader, 
which  we  called  the  "roer."  It  carried  a  half- 
inch  bullet,  and  was  more  deadly  than  a  Martini- 
Henry,  although  it  required  a  much  closer  range. 

The  lions  "nest"  in  the  Transvaal  is  fre- 
quently found  close  to  some  swamp  where 
game  abounds.  The  old  lion  -  hunters  spent 
their  winters  in  weaving  quince  laths  into  cover 
cages,  which  they  put  on  the  huge  ox-waggon  in 
place  of  the  usual  canvas  hood.  The  (juince 
wood,  tougher  than  hickory,  made  a  cage,  open 
at  both  ends,  whose  interstices  were  not  an  inch 
square  ;  and  the  whole  structure  was  as  strong 
against  sudden  assault  as  if  it  were  made  of 
tempered  steel.  When  the  hunting  day  was 
chosen  and  a  party  of  i\vc  men  had  assembled, 
two  of  them  brought  the  ancient  mattresses  of 
their  truckle-beds,  parallelograms  of  mighty 
beams  interlaced  with  riinpis,  or  thin  raw  hide 
thongs.  One  mattress  was  used  to  permanently 
close  the  rear  entrance  to  the  waggon  ;  the 
other  was  put  in  position  at  the  front,  with 
pulley  ropes  in  readiness  for  its  instant  adjust- 
ment as  a  door  that  could  be  shut. 

\\  illi  half-a-dozen  oxen  for  a  team,  trembling 
Kaffirs  goading  on  the  cattle,  and  themselves 
astride  of  mettled  horses,  the  little  party  of 
iuinters  advanced  to  the  vicinity  of  the  lion's 
lair.  When  the  waggon  was  still  four  hundred 
yards  away  from  the  edge  of  the  swamj)  it 
was  turned  around,  the  oxen  were  unyoked, 
the   Kaffirs   mounted  the  horses,  and  the  stock 


were  driven  back  to  a  safe  distance.  The 
Iuinters,  strammg  at  the  waggon's  wheels,  shoved 
it  backward  and  backward  towards  the  edge  of 
the  marsh  until  the  lion,  resenting  tiie  intrusion, 
came  growling  from  his  midday  lair.  At  sight 
of  him  the  hunters  hastened  to  the  refuge  of 
the  waggon,  and  one,  duly  appointed  beforehand, 
waited  until  all  were  within.  As  the  lion  came 
onward  the  guardian  cjf  the  forward  mattress 
sprang  into  the  cage  and  drew  close-shut  behind 
him  the  thong  laced  doorway. 

The  hunters,  imprisoned,  seemed  easy  quarry 
to  the  lion.  He  attacked  at  once ;  and,  as  he 
charged,  the  men  fired.  The  quince  laths,  like 
the  sides  of  a  huge,  impenetrable  basket,  cracked 
and  swayed  under  the  shock  of  the  lion's 
spring.  But  they  never  broke,  they  never  gave 
way  ;  and,  sooner  or  later,  some  heavy  bullet 
from  the  echoing  "  roers  "  crashed  into  the 
lion's  heaving  sides  and  dropped  him  to  the  grass 
below,  the  victim  of  his  own  blind  courage. 

It  has  happened  sometimes  that  three,  and 
even  four,  lions  have  made  an  assault  upon  a 
waggon  together.  But  the  death  of  one  of  the 
band  usually  taught  the  others  the  lesson  they 
required,  and  seldom  did  the  ancient  "  waggon- 
stalking  "  method  bring  two  lions  for  the  oxen 
to  cart  home. 

Seemingly  absolutely  safe,  the  quince  laths  and 
the  7  i»ipi  mattresses  depended  for  their  value 
on  the  thoroughness  with  which  the  prepara- 
tions had  been  made.  One  of  the  sporting 
stories  current  in  Pretoria  turns  upon  the 
adventure  of  an  aged  tackhaar,  or  long  haired 
Boer,  and  his  son,  a  boy  of  eighteen  years,  who 
had  yet  to  kill  his  first  lion.  There  were  five 
Boers  in  the  waggon,  and  the  proud  tackhaar, 
anxious  to  give  his  boy  an  opportunity  for  glory, 
persuaded  his  companions  to  leave  the  front 
opening  in  the  boy's  care.  As  the  lion  rushed 
forth  and  the  men  sprang  into  the  waggon  the 
mattress  at  the  rear,  insecurely  fosteiied,  fell  to 
the  ground.  There  was  one  awful  rumble  of 
the  lion's  voice,  one  tremendous  bound,  and  the 
great  brute  was  within  the  waggon  and  had 
struck  down  the  hapless  old  pioneer.  The 
others,  aghast,  stood  motionless,  while  the  lion 
opened  his  immense  mouth  to  rend  his  prey. 

At  this  crucial  moment  there  was  a  scrambling 
on  the  wheel  outside,  and  the  mu/zle  of  a 
"roer"  was  poked  through  the  (juince  laths 
until  it  reached  the  lion's  very  ear.  The  dull 
growl  of  the  hungry  beast  was  stilled  in  the 
deafening  report  of  the  rifle.  The  lion,  a  bullet  in 
the  centre  of  his  brain,  rolled  over,  dead.  The 
jjlucky  boy,  from  the  waggon  wheel,  called  out, 
anxiously  :  — 

"  Is  my  father  alive  ?  " 

'I'he    iackhaar   rose   slowly   to    his   led  and, 


i;o 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


THE    LION    OI-ENED   HIS    IMMENSE   MOUTH    TO    KENU    HIS    I'RKV. 


seeing  his  son's  face  through  the  apertures  before 
him,  tried  to  put  out  a  greeting  liand,  saying,  in 
shaking  accents  : — 

"Good  morning,  my  boy;  where  did  you 
come  from  ?  " 

That  single  awful  moment,  while  he  lay  in 
the  lion's  jaws,  had  effaced  from  his  memory  all 
the  occurrences  of  the  hunt  ;  he  fancied  he  had 
just  risen  from  his  bed,  and  was  giving  his  son 
a  morning  greeting  ! 

"  Haas,  Haas— there  is  a  leopard  !  " 
"It  is  a  foal,  then,  that  is  missing?  " 
"  Yes,  Haas,  yes  ;  there  is  blood  everywhere, 
and  the  trail  leads  to  the  mountain." 

It  is  always  the  same  collo([uy,  between  the 
same  types,  which  occurs  of  a  morning  in  the 
mountainous  districts  of  Cape  (Jolony  and  the 
Orange  I-rcre  State,  where  the  African  "  tiger,"  or 
k'0{)ard,  all  brilliant  s[)ots  and  gorgeous  stripes, 
still  lingers  as  the  foe  to  farmer  and  to  herd. 
Huge  and  gaunt,  of  a  far  more  desperate  cun- 
ning than  the  tiger  of  I'.engal,  he  is  but  rarely 
seen,  yet  often  heard  of.  The  blood  spots  and 
the  missing  foal  -his  favourite  prey  tell  many 
a  d(jleful  morning  story  to  the  faithful  Kafiir 
who  has  the  guardianship  of  the  stock.     He  is 


a  rover,  this  "  tiger " 
of  the  Cape,  with  his 
splendid  spotted 
body,  so  massive  yet 
so  lithe,  and  in  the 
murderous  face  of 
him  the  never- 
wearied  ferocity  of 
his  brother  of  Bengal. 
It  is  one  day  for  the 
kill  and  a  second  for 
the  feed,  and  then 
on  to  another  moun- 
tain and  another 
hunting  -  ground. 
Immense  tracts  are 
traversed  by  a  single 
leopard  in  a  twelve- 
month's round,  and 
the  hunters  must  act 
quickly  whenever 
they  would  end  the 
career  of  one  of  these 
wandering  banditti 
of  the  ranges.  Long 
pursued,  and  never 
allowed  to  pass  with- 
out concerted  en- 
deavour at  reprisal 
for  his  depredation, 
the  leopard  has 
grown  to  be  the 
of  Southern  Africa's 


most  wary  of  the  denizens 
tangled  wilds. 

Sharp  on  the  Kaffir's  discovery  word  is  sent 
to  the  farmers  throughout  the  mountain  region 
that  there  is  to  be  a  "  tiger  "-hunt  next  day.  The 
sun  has  scarcely  risen  before  the  countryside  is 
assembled,  on  horseback,  at  the  farmhouse 
nearest  the  base  of  the  mountain  where  the 
common  foe  has  made  his  passing  lair.  At 
the  horses'  heels  there  run  the;  riders'  kennels 
of  bull-terriers,  bulldogs,  and  windhonden— the 
trailing  hounds  of  the  mountains,  sure  on  the 
scent  and  game  to  the  death.  It  is  the  dogs 
that  hunt  the  leopard,  and  find  him,  and  fight 
him.  As  for  the  men,  sitting  there  on  their 
horses  with  their  rifles  across  the  pommel, 
they  count  one  another  carefully.  The  rule  of 
safety  is  fourteen  men  for  a  single  leopard. 
No  hunt  goes  on  with  fewer  hunters,  unless 
foolhardiness  and  utter  inexperience  come 
together  at  the  mountain's  base.  With  a 
full-sized  party  assembled,  the  hunt  begins. 
The  men,  each  with  his  dogs,  surround  the 
mountain,  every  hunter  taking  a  distance  of 
600  yards  as  the  space  for  his  activity. 
Some  few  are  detailed  to  stay  as  sentinels 
upon    the    hillside's    slope.      The    rest    strike 


HOW    THE     BOERS    HUNT. 


straii^ht  for  tlic  ridge,  and  work  in  a  conlon 
to  the  mountain's  top.  The  watchers  on  the 
slope  have  the  chance  of  an  individual  kill ;  the 
men  of  the  cordon  are  more  likely  to  share 
glory — and  danger — in  company.  But,  wher- 
ever he  may  be,  the  leopard-hunter  must  be  as 
wary  as  he  is  daring,  for  he  is  bandying  life- 
breath  with  a  foe  that  is  both  strategist  and 
fighter. 

These  Cape  and  Free  State  mountain  sides 
are  perfect  in  their  adaptation  to  innumerable 
lairs.  Great  gullies  and  deep,  dry  ravines 
cleave  the  age-worn,  brittle  soil.  Strata  of  rock 
or  clay  afford  some  narrow  shelves  as  resting- 
places  where,  hidden  from  view  by  a  shrubbery 
he  never  fails  to  choose  as  shield,  the  leopard 
rests  ready  for  a  long,  unerring  spring  that  brings 
him  like  a  flaming  thunderbolt  to  the  bottom  of 
the  gulch  below. 

No  hunter,  however  sure  a  marksman,  sets 
foot  during  a  tiger-hunt  in  one  of  those  ravines 
of  death  unless  bulldogs  and  windhoiiden  have 
scoured  it  from  end  to  end.  The  hunter  follows, 
his  eye  searching  the  shadows  of  the  shrubbery 
and  his  ear  alert  for  the  first  cry  of  the  dogs 
that  snarls  out  — 
"  Found  !  " 

The  roar  that 
follows  has  the 
rending  volume 
of  the  lion's ; 
but,  underneath, 
there  is  a  gut- 
tural, rumbling 
rasp  that  is  part 
of  the  infernal 
spirit  of  ferocity 
ever  raging  in  the 
leopard's  long- 
ribbed  chest. 
The  chorus  of 
bays  and  bark- 
ings that  replies 
and  the  repeti- 
tionof  the  vibrant 
roar  which  makes 
the  hillsides 
shake  are  the 
noise  of  battle. 
The  struggle  once  begun, 
the  hunter  knows  that 
he  is  safe  to  come  within 
sighting    distance    of   the    fray. 

The  "tiger,"  on  his  back, 
fights  viciously  with  claws  and 
teeth  as  the  pack,  its  numbers 
steadily  increasing   with  other  beaters  and 


sink     unrelenting    fangs    into    the    nu..,:,^.:^     ,,, 
muscle   beneath    his    loose,    tough    hide  ;    and 
one    after    another — so    long    as    the     hunter 
detains  the  saving  rifle  ball — the  keen,  curved 
claws    and    the    gnashing,    blood-flecked    teeth 
fling    them    u[)ward    or    aside,    disabled    and 
dying.       The     bullet     of     the     hunter     waits 
only    a    favourable    turn    amid    the    maze    of 
writhing  convolutions  of  the  gleaming,  prostrate 
form.     One  shot,  in  the  side  or  throat,  may  end 
the  tragedy  of  the  mountains'  king ;  and  if  not 
one,  another  and  another,  until  there  come  the 
last  convulsive  shudder  of  the  straightened  form 
and  the  last  harsh  gasp  from  the  crimsoned  jaws. 
It   is  the  first    sight    that  wins  or  loses    the 
conflict  with  our  tigers  of   South  Africa,   and 
caution  is  the  hunter's  only  safety.     I  remember 
during  a  Cape  Colony  hunt  that  Willem  I'clser, 
of  Burghersdorp,  a  good  shot  and  the  owner  of 
a  fine  kennel,  insisted  the  time  had  come  for 
him  to  join  the  older  men  of  the  neighbourhood 
in   the  dangerous  chase.     He  was  given  a  post 
on  the  mountain  side,  and  was  warned  to  lie 
careful.       Enthusiastic,    and   confident   of    his 
marksmanship,   he    let    his    dogs    run     on     at 


their    dogs    answering    to    the    call 
itself  upon  him.'    Terrier,  dog,  and 


hurls 
hound 


THE    LKOPARD  CRUUCHliU 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


will  and  never  took  the  small  precaution 
of  hurling  rocks  into  every  cover.  One 
gully  after  another  he  explored  until,  his 
rifle  in  his  hand,  he  entered  a  deep  ravine. 
Twenty  feet  above  him,  invisible  upon  a  rocky' 
ledge,  the  leopard  crouched.  As  Pelser  passed 
the  beast  made  his  infallible  spring.  The  other 
sentinels  heard  the  appalling  roar  and  hastened 
towards  it.  They  reached  the  gully,  saw  a 
striped  body  pad-padding  at  a  trot  around  the 
nearest  turn,  and  fired  some  ineffective  bullets 
in  pursuit.  Poor  Pelser  lay  on  the  seamed, 
scarred  clay  before  them,  his  head  fairly  bitten 
from  his  shoulders  ! 

"The  neighbourhood  hunt"  is  the  one  we 
love,  for  It  IS  the  perfection  of  hunting  and  the 
perfection  of  comfort.  What  man  could  ask 
better  sport  than  the  wide  preserve  of  Nature 
flung  out  before  him  on  a  continent's  breast, 
with  2,000  graceful  deer  within  his  rifle's  range ; 
and  on  the  hillside,  near  him,  his  wife,  his 
daughters,  or  the  dark-haired  girl  he  loves, 
preparing  dinner  in  expectation  of  the  hour 
of  his  eager  appetite  ? 

Under  the  English  as  well  as  the  Eoer 
(Government  the  .springbok,  roebok,  and  '.teen- 
bok,  of  the  antelope  tribe,  and  the  corhaan,  or 
veldt  hen,  the  wildekalkooen,  or  wild  turkey, 
and  the  wildepaauw,  or  wild  peacock,  are  pro- 
tected for  seven  months  in  the  year.  The 
h  inting  .season  lasts  only  from  February  till 
Ai'gust.  In  the  Colesberg  district,  in  Cape 
Colony,  the  springboks  increase  with  a  rapidity 
that  makes  the  hunting  months  for  the  farmer 
not  only  a  pleasure,  but  a  need.  The  ante- 
lopes must  be  thinned  out  and  kept  entirely 
wild,  or  there  is  no  safety  for  the  crops.  During 
the  close  season  herds,  almost  innumerable,  of 
spring! >ok  may  be  seen  from  the  outlying  farm- 
houses grazing,  running,  and  "  pronking  "  on  the 
veldt.  It  is  strangely  close  to  the  English 
"prank,"  this  "pronking"  of  the  springboks, 
both  in  fo.-ni  and  in  meaning;  and  it  tells  with 
graphic  clearness  the  agile  pleasures  of  the 
dainty  antelope. 

Two  md  a  half  feet  in  height,  with  reddish 
backs  s.ripcd  with  brown  and  bellies  white  as 
mountain  snows,  they  carry  from  the  tail  to  the 
loin  a  reach  of  long  white  hair.  At  a  single 
bound  ihey  spring  three  yards  in  air  ;  and,  as  they 
leap,  the  ioin-stripe  opens  in  a  great,  wliiic  fan. 
All  day  long  the  springboks  can  be  seen  "pronk- 
mg,"  while  every  gay  upleaping  flirts  the  fan  in 
the  sunlight's  dazzling  glare.  Sometimes  a 
sheepdog  ventures  on  a  hopeless  pursuit.  As 
he  dashes  in  among  them  the  bucks  tea.se  him 
with  their  dances,  knowing  always  that,  if  he 
come  too  near,  their  dainty,  slender  limbs  ran 
bear  them  off  to  safety. 


In  the  month  of  May  the  neighbourhood 
makes  ready  for  the  hunt.  On  a  score  of  farms, 
within  a  territory  of  eighty  square  miles,  there 
is  an  eternal  baking  of  milk  pies  and  sweet 
cakes,  a  long  boiling  of  plum  puddings,  a 
killing  of  mutton,  and  a  grinding  of  coffee. 
Seven  or  eight  families,  including  perhaps  forty 
people,  accompanied  by  their  Kaffir  servants, 
assemble  at  some  one  farmhouse,  where  there 
IS  a  hill  slope  near,  which  is  wooded  and  bears 
a  spring  of  running  water.  It  is  the  place  for 
the  picnic.  With  the  early  morning  the  wives 
and  daughters  drive  in  nimble  Cape  carts  to 
the  chcsen  spot.  "  The  men — and  for  springbok- 
hunting  a  boy  IS  a  man  when  he  attains  fourteen 
^divide  themselves  into  two  parties.  One 
group  of  hunters  takes  the  southward  track ; 
the  others  ride  to  the  north.  They  form  a 
crescent  at  either  end  of  the  plain,  which  is 
like  the  open,  rolling  prairie  of  America,  and 
is  covered  with  a  fine  nutritious  grass,  about  a 
foot  in  height.  When  the  hunt  begins  the  two 
parties  are  separated  by  a  distance  of  about 
SIX  miles.  Between  the  western  tips  of  the 
crescents  lies  the  picnic-hill  whence,  while  the 
baskets  are  unpacked  and  the  little  children 
l)lay,  the  women  can  behold  the  entire  stretch  of 
veldt  and  see  the  hunt  in  one  grand  panorama. 

To  the  hunter's  eye  the  six  miles  intervening 
present  a  broad,  delicious  stretch  of  sward,  with 
snowfiakes  touching  earth  and  whirling  up 
again.  The  snowfiakes  are  the  loin  stripes  of 
the  distant  springbok,  "  pronking,"  sometimes 
alone  and  again  in  herds  to  be  measured  by 
the  hundred. 

As  the  hunters  close  in  and  the  bucks  discern 
their  danger  the  sound  of  the  "  blaas  "  is  heard  ; 
it  is  the  indrawing  of  the  breath  as  the  antelope 
.secures  its  wind  for  a  long,  hard  run.  Here  and 
there  a  buck  turns  from  its  fellows,  heading  for 
the  open,  and  makes  its  dash  for  liberty  and  life. 
Not  until  an  antelope  has  passed  him  does 
the  hunter  lire,  for  it  is  then  that  he  secures  the 
cleanest  shot.  Three,  six,  come  flying  outward, 
ill  a  herd.  The  rattle  of  the  Mausers  and 
Martinis  crackles  along  the  line,  like  the 
musketry  of  a  battle.  As  a  springbok  drops 
the  hunter's  Kaffir  boy  dashes  toward  it,  rips 
up  the  body,  cleans  it,  and  packs  the  game  on 
his  horse.  When  the  drive  becomes  too  close 
and  there  is  no  time  for  packing  the  game,  the 
bodies  of  the  antelopes  are  piled  together  on 
the  grass  and  covered  with  a  s])are  blanket. 

That  is  for  the  vultures.  All  over  the  deep- 
domed  sky  of  Africa  the  everlasting  vulture 
hangs  -waiting,  waiting,  waiting.  Death  can 
seize  no  living  creature  but,  on  the  instant  of 
his  blighting  touch,  the  black  markings  of  the 
sky  drop  like  running  sands— vulture  after  vul- 


HOW    THE    BOERS    HUNT. 


•5: 


ture,  in  endless,  sombre  train,  sweeping  down- 
ward to  the  feast  from  out  the  far  abysses  of 
the  blue. 

By  the  time  the  crescents'  tips  have  ap- 
proached to  the  distance  of  a  mile,  all  the 
antelopes  have  made  their  fleet  way  to  the  safe 
haven  of  the  distant  wood  ;  or,  in  their  flight, 
have  been  overtaken  by  the  rifle- ball.  The 
hunters  make  for  the  hillside  then,  and  dinner, 
and  the  picnic  pleasures  of  the  afternoon.  But 
woe  betide  the  marksman  who  has  no  buck  to 
bring.  The  women  own  the  luncheon,  and  the 
law  of  the  hunt  has  never  yet  been  broken,  that 
he  who  has  no  buck  shall  surely  have  no  dinner. 

My  wife  gives  to  me  the  fond  and  leal 
affection  that  every  married  man  believes  the 
world  at  large,  less  happy,  must  begrudge  him. 
\Mien,  at  the  last  "  neighbourhood  hunt "  in 
which  I  took  part,  on  the  Queen's  birthday,  in  the 


"  No  buck,"  said  she,  "  no  dinner." 
"  But,  Jo,  my  darling,  I  am  so  hungry  ! " 
"  No  buck,"  she  said,  severely,  "  no  dinner." 
"Ah,  Jo,  if  you  love  me— if  you  ever  loved 
me — let  me  have  one  little  cup  of  coffee  !  " 

She  looked  around  ;  the  others  had  turned 
away  to  serve  to  their  confounded  husbands  the 
roast  mutton,  the  milk  pies,  and  the  rich  plum 
pudding. 

"  When  you  beg  like  that,"  she  answered, 
tenderly,  "  I  cannot  refuse  you.  Here  is  your 
coffee.  But" — with  iron  firmness— "  that's  all 
you  get,  though  I  become  a  widow." 

I  drank  the  coffee  and  seized  my  rifle.  I 
dashed  down  the  hillside,  ran  to  the  end  of  a 
wire  fence  where  I  knew  the  bucks  must  pass, 
and  stood,  waiting  to  earn  my  meal.  Ten 
minutes  went  by ;  a  quarter  of  an  hour — half 
an  hour.     There  was  a  brushing  of  the  under- 


"A   TROOI'   0^•    ANTELOPE   CAME    I-I.VING    DOWN     llIK    LINK. 


Colony,  I  returned  at  noon  to  the  picnic  grounds, 

my  wife  looked  at  me  curiou.sly,  and  remarked :  — 
"  Where  is  your  springbok,  my  dear  ?  " 
"  Well,  you   see,   there  were  very  few  bucks 

near  me — and  I  couldn't  gut  a  good  shot — and 

I  didn't " 

The  women  round  about  began  to  laugh  at 

me  ;  and  my  wife — this  wife  who  loved  me  so  — 

laui^hed  with  them. 


growth.  A  troop  of  antelope  came  flying  down 
the  line.  One  shot  and  a  springbok  fell ;  a 
second,  and  I  had  killed  two.  I  seized  them 
both  and  lugged  them.  1501b.  dead  weight,  to 
the  foot  of  the  hill. 

"See,  Jo!"  I  shouted,  from  the-  veldt. 
"  May  I  have  mv  dinner  now  ?  " 

"  It  is  waiting  for  you,  dearest,"  she  called  to 
me.  all  smiles. 


Vol.  X.— 20. 


itieKcvW- Forbes, 

0^  Notl.NovaSccri 


Mr.  Forbes  writes  :  "  It  has  been  my  privilege  on  two  or  three  occasions  to  spend  a  period  of 
service  as  a  missionary  in  Labrador.  The  adventure  I  send  you  herewith  occurred  during 
my  last  trip  there,  in  1900.  I  saw  little  Skipper  John  thfe  morning  after  he  arrived  home, 
and  from  him  and  his  parents  I  learnt  all  the  pathetic  details  of  the  story.  The  captain  of 
the  'Nova  Zembla '  and  Mrs.  Robar  told  me  their  side  of  the  incident." 


I'-  sure  you  wake  me  at  two,"  said 
Arcliie  Belvin  to  his  older  brother 
John,  as  the  two  boys  cuddled 
down  together  for  the  night;  "we 
sh(Mil(l  Ije  on  the  banks  as  early 
as  the  licUcs  Amour  fellows." 

"  I'm  afraid,"  said  John,  "  the  mornin'  will 
be  cold  off  there  for  a  lad  like  you,  but  we'll 
see  when  the  time  romes." 

It  was  Archie's  first  summer  fishing.  He  had 
reached  nine  years  of  age,  which  is  the  usual 
time  that  Ijl)rador  boys  begin  life's  slavish 
toil.  John  had  airt-ady  spent  four  summers  as 
*' for'ard  hand"  in  his  father's  boat,  and  now, 
at  thirteen,  he  became  "skipper"  of  a  boat 
with  his  little  brother  "  for'ard."  Their  father 
went  alone,  so  that  two  boats  were  pressed  into 
service  in  the  hard  struggle  to  gain  a  living  for 
a  family  of  five  girls  and  four  boys. 

Res[)onsibility  rested  heavily  on  John's 
shouidrrs,  for  to  become  cajjlain  of  a  boat  is  a 
distinction  every  Labrador  boy  covets.  He 
woke  several  times  during  the  short  night.  One 
word  at  two  o'clock  easily  aroused  Archie,  for 
the  novelty  of  hauling  in  the  big  cod  had  not 
yet  worn  off,  and  he  had  even  been  dreaming 
about  It. 


It  was  Wednesday  morning,  the  4th  of  July, 
and  the  weather  was  raw  and  cold.  A  sharp 
easterly  wind  was  blowing  off  the  large  field  of 
heavy  Arctic  ice  that  lazily  floated  up  the  Straits 
of  Belle  Isle.  A  heavy  bank  of  dense  fog 
rested  along  the  seaward  horizon.  "  Don't  like 
the  look  of  the  weather,"  said  John,  sagely,  as 
he  peered  out  through  the  early  dawn.  "  Oh  ! 
the  weather's  all  right,"  retorted  Archie,  eager 
for  the  banks. 

But  John  was  cautious.  It  became  him,  as 
skipper,  to  act  prudently.  He  climbed  u[)  the 
"  look-out  "  and  meditated  seriously. 

"  The  ice'U  keep  the  sea  down,"  he  said, 
"but  it  looks  pretty  cold  off  the  l.iillc  Kock, 
Arch,  and  I  don't  like  the  looks  of  that  fog." 
All  this  was  said  with  the  wisdom  of  an  old  and 
experienced  fisherman. 

He  had  had  no  fear  of  fog  when  his  father's 
guiding  hand  was  at  the  helm,  but  he  ex- 
perienced a  different  feeling  now  that  ihere 
would  be  no  surer  hand  than  his  own  at  the 
tiller. 

Archie's  ardour  cooled  a  little  before  these 
serious  reflections  of  his  skipper,  and  the  young 
fishermen  had  almost  decided  to  "stay  in  "  that 
day  when  two  or  three  boats,  containing  crews 


SKIPPER    JOHN'S    FIRST    CRUISE. 


OD 


from  Relies  Amour,  sailed  out  past  a  point 
directly  in  front  of  them.  "  Them's  Gooshie's 
men,"  cried  Archie,  excitedly,  "  and  I  ,u;uess  if 
those  fellows  can  fish  to-day,  Pigeon  Island  men 
should  show  up  too." 

Skipper  John  felt  a  little  ashamed  at  this 
rebuke,  so  threw  prudence  to  the  winds  and 
said,  "  Well,  get  on  your  oil-skins  ;  I'll  go  if  you 
will." 

The  young  fishermen  were  soon  under  way 
for  the  banks,  and  in  half  an  hour  they  were  full 
of  excitement  as  they  began  to  haul  in  the 
lively  cod. 

So  intently  did  they  work  that  even  the  care- 
ful young  skipper  did  not  notice  that  the  wind 
had  veered  to  south-west,  and  that  tlie  fog  was 
fast  coming  in  upon  them.  A  long  tongue  had 
already  crept  stealthily  upon  their  landward  side, 
shutting  out  all  the  familiar  landmarks  from 
which  they  were  wont  to  take  their  bearings,  and 
ere  they  realized  their  danger  they  were  com- 
pletely enveloped  in  its  dense  masses.  More- 
over, as  there  was  less  ice  west  of  them,  the 
change  of  wind  was  making  quite  a  choppy  sea. 

The  boys  held  to  their  anchor  as  long  as 
possible,  and  John  hoped  that  the  fog  might 
soon  pass  by.  As  the  sea  rose  higher,  however, 
he  said,  "  Perhaps  we'd  better  haul  up  and  try 
for  the  land."  Then  he  reasoned  with  himself. 
"  Let  me  see,"  he  reflected ;  "  the  wind  was 
about  sou'-east  when  we  came  off  here,  for  we 
ran  off  sou'-west  with  about  three  points  of  free 
sheet.  The  wind  was  on  our  port  side,  too. 
Now,  if  I  give  her  three  points  of  sheet  with 
the  wind  on  her  starboard  side  we  should  fetch 
Gull  Island,  and  we'll  soon  lind  home  from 
there." 

His  reasoning  was  good  had  the  wind  not 
changed. 

With  the  whole  course  thus  clearly  thought 
out  he  gave  his  orders.  "  You  hoist  away  on 
the  foresail  and  I'll  heave  up  the  anchor,"  he 
said. 

When  the  boat  filled  away  and  John  had 
resumed  command  at  the  helm  he  was  quite 
confident  he  must  be  pointing  for  some  part  of 
Gull  Island,  which  lay  north-east  of  the  banks; 
but  as  the  change  of  wind  had  thrown  him 
eight  points  of  the  compass  out  of  his  reckon- 
ing, he  was  in  reality  sailing  out  to  sea. 

"  There's  a  big  piece  of  ice  right  ahead,"  said 
Archie,  who  was  on  the  look  ■  out,  and  the 
skipper  looked  up  quickly.  None  too  soon,  for 
his  more  experienced  eye  detected  that  what 
appeared  to  Archie  as  he  looked  through  the 
fog  to  be  ice  was,  in  reality,  a  breaker !  He  put 
his  helm  hard  down,  and  as  the  boat  luffed  up 
she  barely  escaped  being  swamped  by  a  great 
roller  that  roared  behind  them. 


And  nf)w  the  young  captain  was  puzzled ; 
there  was  no  reef  like  that  ofT  Pigeon  Island. 
What  could  it  be,  and  where  were  thev? 

He  sailed  cautiously  around  to  the  lee  of  the 
reef  and  anchored.  If  he  could  not  deternnne 
his  position,  he  would  hold  on  there  until  the 
fog  lifted. 

Archie  had  become  very  uneasy  by  this  time, 
and  for  his  sake  John  put  on  a  careless  air. 
"We'll  have  a  bit  to  eat,"  he  said,  lightly,  "and 
then  we'll  put  in  for  home  as  soon  as  this 
little  thickness  is  past."  They  ate  two  of  the 
half-dozen  "  hard  tack  "  biscuits  that  they  had 
brought  with  them,  and  for  several  hours  waited 
wearily,  the  little  boat  tossing  uneasily  on  the 
rough  seas. 

Poor  little  Archie  began  to  plead  for  home 
and  wanted  to  make  another  attempt,  but  John 
thought  it  safer  to  stop  where  they  were  than  to 
drift  helplessly  about  among  the  ice  and  fog. 

Finally,  however,  his  brother's  tears  and  the 
thought  of  the  coming  night  prevailed  upon 
the  anxious  young  skipper  to  make  another 
attempt  to  gain  the  shore. 

Tiie  wind  had  fallen,  and  as  they  were  now 
well  to  leeward  of  the  great  ice-field  the  sea  was 
smooth,  so  they  took  to  the  oars.  Their  only 
hope  was  that  they  might  chance  upon  some 
island  or  rock  familiar  to  them.  But  even  this 
small  hope  had  to  be  abandoned,  for  they  soon 
found  themselves  among  the  heavy  ice-floes. 

The  big,  blue  blocks  of  Arctic  ice  as  they 
drifted  about  in  the  dense  fog  presented  a 
dreary  scene.  Some  pieces  rose  from  fifteen 
to  twenty  feet  out  of  the  sea,  and  streams  of 
clear,  fresh  water  poured  down  their  sides. 
Here  and  there  was  an  iceberg,  its  tall  pinnacles 
almost  lost  to  view  in  the  dense  clouds  of  fog 
that  enveloped  them. 

All  idea  of  direction  was  now  entirely  gone 
from  John's  mind,  and  so  they  rowed  helplessly 
about  with  little  hope  of  doing  more  than  to 
keej)  themselves  warm  by  exercise. 

Night  fell  and  the  brave  little  fishermen  still 
toiled  on,  praying  as  they  rowed.  They  knew 
not  where  they  were  going,  but  Skipper  John 
said  they  must  keep  rowing  steadily  all  night, 
for  if  they  were  to  lie  down  to  sleep  they  would 
soon  become  chilled  and  {)erish  with  the  biting 
cold. 

John  allowed  his  tired  little  "  for'ard  hand  "  to 
take  two  short  naps,  but  all  the  rest  of  the  tinv 
he  very  prudently  kept  him  at  the  oars.  Tin. 
did  not  row  hard,  but  just  sutticient  to  keep  up 
good  circulation. 

It  was  about  noon  of  the  day  that  his  boys 
had  left  home  when  .Mr.  Belvin  came  in  from 
fishing.      His  mind   had   been  easy  all  the  fore 


156 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


noon,  for  he  thought  that  his  little  helps  had 
not  gone  out. 

Mrs.  Belvin  had  been  somewhat  anxious  about 
them,  but  did  not  realize  how  great  the  danger 
was.  She  met  her  husband  at  the  stage-head 
and  asked  if  he  had  seen  the  boys. 

"Why,  I  didn't  know  they  were  out  to-day," 
he  replied,  anxiously  ;  "  Tm  afraid  that  they've 
missed  the  harbour,  and  it's  no  wonder,  for  it's 
right  thick  outside  dull  Island.  Vou  and  the 
girls  had  better  throw  these  fish  up  on  the  stage 
and  I'll  take  the  trap-boat  and  fog-horn  and  run 
off  and  give  them  a  call." 

As  he  passed  out  he  alarmed  the  crews  of 
several     Newfoundland    vessels    lying    in     the 
harbour,  and  they    immediately  joined    in    the 
search.       They    met    some    of     Fecjuet's    and 
Gooshie's  gangs,  and   several   boats    from    their 
places   went  also.     When  the  intelligence  that 
the  two  boys  were  adrift  reached  Bonne  Espe- 
rance,   a   dozen    boats   manned    by    brave  and 
hardy  crews  rowed  seaward,  the  men  vigorously 
blowing  their  horns,    for  they    knew    only    too 
well  the  manifold  perils 
which     threatened     the 
two  lads   in   those   vast 
solitudes  of  sea  and  fog 
and  ice. 

Soon  thirty  boats  or 
more  were  scattered  far 
and  wide,  up  and  down 
the  shore,  and  far  out  at 
sea,  all  searching  for  the 
lost  boys.  All  night  long 
they  rowed  and  blew 
their  horns,  but  to  no 
purpose. 

The  search  was  con- 
tinued the  following  day, 
and  some  boats  even 
remained  out  far  into  the 
second  night.  l-inally, 
the  men  sadly  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  the 
boat  had  got  off  among 
the  "big  ire"  and  had 
Ijeen  swamped  by  some 
••  rolling  berg,"  and  that 
her  hapless  young  skip- 
per and  his  little  male 
had  gone  for  ever. 


The  boys'  first  night 
at  sea  was  a  dreary  and 
dismal  one.  i'hf 
monotonous  thudding  of 
the  heavy  floes  as  they 
rocke  1  with  the  gentle 
ocean  swell  was  broken 


only  by  the  crash  and  splash  of  some  heavy 
block  of  ice  rolling  down  the  side  of  a  melting 
berg  into  the  sea. 

Once  Archie  said  that  he  thought  he  heard  a 
fog-horn,  but  John  told  him  it  was  probably  the 
shriek  of  some  distant  sea-bird,  disturbed  by 
the  rolling  ice. 

The  morning  dawned  bright  and  clear,  and 
here  and  there  between  the  tall  ice  "  dumpers  " 
the  boys  could  see  the  long  blue  shore  line  on 
the  far-away  horizon.  A  strong  tidal  current 
had  been  steadily  setting  them  off  the  shore  all 
night. 

I'he  heavy  floes,  in  all  kinds  of  fantastic 
forms,  floated  thickly  about  them,  and  John 
found  considerable  difficulty  in  giving  a  wide 
berth  to  the  dangerous  monsters,  whose  over- 
hanging sides  threatened  instant  destruction  to 
the  frail  boat. 

They  replenished  their  water-jar  from  a  clear 
stream  of  beautiful  fresh  water  pouring  down 
the  side  of  what  was  probably  a  chip  off  some 
mighty  (ireenland  glacier. 


"JOHN    KOUND  CONMDKHABI.E    DIFPICUI.TV  IS  tlVIN.;  A  WIDK    I.KKTIl    TO   THE    UANGEROUS    MONSTERS." 


SKIPPER    JOHN'S    FIRST    CRUISE. 


157 


The  brave  fisher-boys  then  turned  their  craft 
towards  the  shore,  tliough  what  appeared  to  be 
a  whole  ocean  separated  them  from  their  island 
home. 

In  a  short  time  the  ice  became  more  scattered 
and  they  were  able  to  make  greater  speed.  By 
midday  the  great  irregular  cliffs  of  Labrador's 
desolate  and  rock-bound  coast  again  stood  out 
distinctly  to  view.  IJut  for  some  time  John's 
eye  had  been  anxiously  scanning  a  lung  white 
line  that  stretched  far  up  and  down  the  coast, 
and  which  he  knew  to  be  an  ice-field. 

They  ate  their  last  biscuit,  however,  for  they 
now  hoped  in  some  way  that  they  would  have 
tea  ashore  that  night.  Shortly  before  sunset  they 
rowed  up  to  the  white  line  that  had  been 
visible  at  noon.  It  proved  to  be  a  field  of  small 
ice,  thickly  packed,  and  from  half  a  mile  to  a 
mile  wide.  A  little  water  was  visible  beyond, 
separating  it  from  the  shore.  It  was  impossible 
to  pierce  it.  Once  they  talked  of  trying  to  walk 
over  it,  but  that  would  have  been  of  no  use,  for 
there  was  water  on  the  other  side,  and  they  did 
not  feel  able  to  drag  their  boat. 

John  did  not  recognise  the  cliffs  ahead, 
though  he  said  they  looked  a  little  like  Middle 
Bay,  ten  miles  east  of  his  home.  Then  they 
thought  that  even  if  they  could  reach  the  shore 
they  might  happen  upon  a  desolate  region, 
where  there  were  no  "  livyeres  "  or  settlers ;  and 
as  there  are  no  roads  in  Labrador  they  would 
be  completely  helpless  without  their  beat. 

All  through  that  second  night  found  them 
coasting  along  the  edge  of  the  ice-field.  They 
rowed  up  and  down,  despairingly,  making  each 
run  west  much  longer  than  that  eastward.  A 
sharp  breeze  was  blowing  off  shore,  and  though 
the  ice  kept  the  sea  as  smooth  as  if  they  were 
"under  the  land,"  still  Skipper  John  feared  that 
they,  ice  and  all,  were  drifting  out  to  sea  again. 

When  Friday  morning  dawned  his  fears  were 
abundantly  realized,  for  no  land  was  visible. 
Still,  as  there  was  a  haze  landward,  he  hoped 
they  were  not  so  far  off  as  on  the  previous 
morning.  The  field  of  small  ice  had  parted 
here  and  there,  too,  and  they  were  beyond  the 
range  of  the  heavy  floes. 

As  is  usual  in  the  summer  months  in 
Canadian  Labrador,  the  land  breeze  died  away 
shortly  after  sunrise,  and  a  light  southerly  wind 
took  its  place. 

Setting  their  foresail,  John  took  the  helm  and 
Archie  crouched  down  in  the  bottom  of  the 
boat  — hungry,  cold,  sleepy,  and  homesick.  The 
brave  young  skipper  took  off  his  own  oil  jacket 
and  threw  it  over  his  little  brother,  but  even 
with  this  additional  protection  he  felt  that  an 
hour  was  as  long  as  he  could  prudently  allow 
the  child  to  lie  there. 


"  Archie,"  said  he,  presently,  "  let's  take  to 
our  oars  again  ;  I  see  a  lump  of  land  showin' 
up  on  our  port  bow." 

Archie  sprang  up  instantly,  looking  almost  as 
bright  and  fresh  as  the  morning.  He  declared 
that  "  Pigeon  Island  men  were  as  good  as  the 
Belles  Amour  fellows."  He  pulled  hard  for  an 
hour  or  more,  but  in  silence.  In  fact,  there 
had  been  little  conversation  between  the  boys 
during  those  awTul  days.  Their  strength  was 
needed  for  action  rather  than  words. 

Presently  Archie's  strokes  became  less  vigor- 
ous, and  he  seemed  to  be  in  deep  meditation. 
Quickly  he  aroused  himself  again  and  said, 
"  Do  you  s'pose,  John,  that  they're  looking  for 
us  ?  I  know  papa  was  out  that  night  we  were 
in  the  big  ice,  and  I  believe  it  was  the  old  fog- 
horn I  heard  when  you  said  it  was  a  loon  or  a 
gull." 

John  noticed  for  the  first  time  that  there  were 
some  signs  of  faltering  in  his  brave  little  com- 
panion ;  and  yet,  as  the  thought  of  his  father's 
search  came  into  his  mind,  new  life  entered  his 
veins,  and  with  renewed  vigour  he  strained  at 
his  oar. 

Several  peaks  of  land  were  now  visible, 
and  the  skipper  was  in  high  hopes.  He  was 
wondering  what  land  it  could  be  and  how  far 
from  home  they  were,  when  he  noticed  that 
Archie's  strokes  were  failing  again.  He  tried  to 
encourage  him.  "  Cheer  up,  be  brave,  we're 
bringing  the  land  nearer,"  he  said. 

"  I'm  not  tired,"  said  Archie,  "but  I  thought 
I  heard  papa  calling  me  again."  Again  he 
strengthened  his  stroke,  but  in  a  moment  more 
it  ceased  for  ever.  The  little  fellow,  who  had 
fought  so  long  for  life  and  home,  drew  his  oar 
across  the  gunwale  and  gently  fell  forward  upon 
it.  John  spoke  to  him,  but  there  was  no  reply. 
The  cold  and  exposure  had  been  too  much  for 
the  poor  boy  ;  he  had  gone  Home. 

Brave  Skipper  John  was  naturally  terribly 
distressed  at  his  brother's  death.  Still,  he  did 
not  give  way  to  despair. 

Setting  his  sail  again,  and  using  one  oar  to 
scull,  he  bravely  pressed  on.  He  would  make 
one  more  struggle  for  life.  For  his  mother's 
sake  he  wished  to  live,  and  for  her  sake  he 
would  bring  the  body  of  her  brave  son  home. 

It  was  drawing  near  sunset  of  the  third  day 
at  sea  when  John  got  near  enough  to  the  shore 
to  discern  the  masts  of  some  vessels  lying  in  an 
unknown  harbour  ahead  of  him. 

All  night  again  he  fought  against  the  land 
breeze,  rowing  cross-handed,  and  as  no  ice 
pressed  against  him  he  hoped  he  might  hold  his 
own.  At  daybreak  he  was  glad  to  find  that  he 
had  lost  little  in  the  struggle. 

He  refreshed  his  tired  body  with  a  little  raw 


158 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


fish  and  cold  water — all  the  provisions  he  had — 
and  pressed  gallantly  on.  He  was  making  but 
slow  progress,  however,  as  his  strength  was 
failing,  but  soon  a  favouring  breeze  helped  him. 

It  was  about  noon  on  Saturday,  July  7th, 
1900.  Mrs.  Louis  Robar,  of  St.  Augustine 
Harbour,  Labrador,  with  her  litde  daughter 
Susie,  was  out  on  the  rocks  at  her  usual  work 
of  drying  cod-fish. 

"  Oh,  look,  mamma  ! "  said  Susie  ;  "  what  a 
funny  little  boat  that  is  out  there  ! " 

As  Mrs.  Robar 
looked  up  she  was 
surprised  to  see  a 
tiny  craft  coming 
right  in  from  sea. 
She  wondered 
what  so  frail  a 
boat  could  be 
doing  out  there. 
An  hour  or  two 
later  there  was  a 
faint  knock  at  the 
door  of  the  Robar 
home,  and  the  im- 
petuous little  Susie 
was  the  first  to 
open  it.  Both 
she  and  her  mother 
were  startled  as 
they  looked  upon 
the  weather-beaten 
face,  gaunt  and 
haggard,  of  a  little 
boy.  He  was  an 
entire  stranger,  but 
his  looks  told  of 
s  (J  111  e  terrible 
trouble.  The 
w  Oman  kindly 
asked  him  to 
f :  o  111  e  in,  a  n  d 
Susie  timidly 
pushed  a  stool  f)Ut 
fur  liim. 

'•I'll  just  sit 
here,"  said  John, 
settling  himself  on  the  doorstep.  Thoughts  of 
the  past  and  the  joy  of  having  his  foot  upon 
solid  rock  again  so  overcame  him  that  he  could 
say  no  more  for  a  few  minutes. 

Susie  broke  the  silence.  "  Was  that  your 
boat  mamma  and  I  saw  out  there  a  while  ago?  " 

"  I  s'pose  so,"  said  John,  his  great  eyes  filling 
with  tears.     "  Any  man  round  here  ?  " 

"My  husband's  across  the  way  mending  his 
nets,"  said  Mrs.  Robar.  "  Why,  what  do  you 
want,  my  boy  ?  " 


"  I  thought  we  were  east ! 


"  Where's  this  ?  "  said  John,  suddenly. 
"  This  is  St.  Augustine  Harbour.     Where  are 
you  from  ?  " 

"  Pigeon  Island,"  replied  the  boy. 
"  Pigeon  Island  !     Why,  you're  forty   or   fifty 
miles  from  home  !     How  did  you  come  ?  Who's 
with  you  ?  " 

"  East  or  west  ? "    said    John,    ignoring    her 
questions. 

"  You   are   west   of    your   home,"    said    the 
woman. 

I  and  my  brother 
Archie  came  in 
our  fishing -boat. 
We're  lost  —  or, 
rather,  I  am  ;  poor 
Archie's  dead. 
We've  been  out  to 
sea  since — let  me 
see — I  think  it  was 
^Vednesday  morn- 
ing." 

" A  n  d     your 
brother's  dead  ?  " 

"  Yes,  ma'am  ; 
he's  down  in  the 
boat.  I  anchored 
her  off  when  I 
came  ashore  be- 
hind the  island. 
Where  can  I  get 
a  man  to  help  me? 
I  want  to  take  him 
home  !  " 
Mrs.  Robar  gave 


the 

little 

strai 

iger 

a    small 

piece 

of 

ligl 

It    food, 

as 

much    as 

It 

was 

wise 

for 

him 

to 

take 

in 

his 

en- 

JL'hl'    MT    IIICH1-,      SAllJ    JMII.N 


feebled  condition, 
and  called  her 
husband  with  the 
l)ig  horn.  While 
John  related  his 
dreadful  experi- 
ences the  sympa- 
thizing woman  could  not  keep  back  her  tears, 
and  little  Susie  sobbed  aloud. 
.  "  He  tried  hard  to  get  home,  ma'am,  and  he 
was  praying,"  said  John,  "and  I  e.xpect  he's 
gone  to  the  good  Home  that  mamma's  told  us 
about." 

Mr.  Robar  soon  arrived,  and,  hearing  of  what 
had  happened,  he  went  and  brought  the  body 
of  brave  little  Archie  to  the  house. 

P.efore  night  word  of  John's  cruise  had 
spread  to  the  Nova  Scotian   vessels  lying  in  the 


skii'1'i:r   iohn's  first  cruise. 


159 


harbour,  and  that  evening  Mr.  Robar's  house 
was  filled  with  the  brawny  toilers  of  the  deep 
listening  eagerly  to  Skipper  John  as  he  related 
his  adventures. 

"  I  wish  one  of  you  fellows  would  come  with 
me,"  he  said,  in  conclusion.  "  I  want  to  take 
Archie  home.     Will  you  ?  " 

One  I  There  were  fifty  volunteers  eager  for 
the  privilege  of  serving  so  brave  a  little  fellow- 
fisherman.  But  the  honour  was  given  to  the  big 
captain  of  the  Nova  Zembla  and  Skipper  John's 
host. 

Early  on  the  Sabbath  morning  the  Nova 
Zembla'' s  best  boat  set  sail  for  Pigeon  Island. 
It  is  needless  to  say  that  John  was  relieved  of 
all  responsibility  in  the  navigation.      He  had 


sons  would  never  return.  The  father  had  said 
so  the  night  before. 

The  day  passed  wearily,  though  many  had 
been  in  to  sympathize  with  the  bereaved  couple. 
As  Mrs.  Belvin  was  selling  ihe  table  that 
evening  for  supper  she  put  down  John's  and 
Archie's  plates  as  usual.  It  was  easier  to  do 
that  than  to  leave  the  places  vacant. 

Supper  was  announced,  and  half-heartedly  the 
children  were  taking  their  accustomed  places, 
when  little  Willie  ran  in  and  shouted  :  "There's 
a  strange  boat  down  at  the  stage-head.  I  think 
John's  in  it ! " 

Everybody  rushed  out  of  doors,  and,  sure 
enough,  there  was  John  walking  up  over  the 
rocks  with  a  strange  man. 


"they  embraced  thk  brave  little    vandeker. 


already  done  his  part  well.     His  little  boat,  now 
so  famous,  was  taken  hi  tow. 

It  was  a  sad  day  in  the  Belvin  home  that 
Sabbath— sadder  than  any  previous  day  since 
the  boys  had  left  ;  for  it  was  not  until  that 
morning  that  the  sorrowing  mother  had  allowed 
herself  to  believe,  for  the  first  time,   that   her 


It  was  not  the  stranger's  presence  that  caused 
them  to  approach  John  carefully.  It  wn>^ 
Archie's  absence. 

And  as  they  embraced  the  brave  little 
wanderer  the  captain  of  the  Nna  Zembla  told 
them  as  much  as  he  knew  of  Skipper  John's  first 
cruise. 


Twenty-Five  Years  in  Nigeria. 


Bv  William  Wallace,  C.M.Ci.,  H.M.  Deputy-Commissioner  for  Northern  Nigeria. 

An  important  article  by  an  ex-official  of  the  Royal  Niger  Company.     Mr.  Wallace  has  much  that  is 

interesting  to  say  concerning  "Ju-ju  "  and  the  terrible  cannibal  tribes  of  the  interior,  and  illustrates 

his  descriptions  with  some  remarkable  photographs.     Mr.  Wallace  is  one  of  the  only  two  Europeans 

who  have  ever  set  foot  in  the  Sultan  of  Sokoto's  capital. 


I. 


ERHAPS  no  part  of  the  continent 
of  Africa  has  greater  potentialities 
or  possesses  wider  interest  for  the 
student  of  human  nature  or  the 
devotee  of  travel  and  adventure 
than  that  portion  of  British  West  Africa  known 
as  Nigeria — an  outpost  of  the  Empire  with 
which  I  have  been  associated  for  twenty-five 
years. 

I  first  saw  the  Niger  in  1878,  in  the  early 
days  of  the  Niger  Company,  when  every  foot 
of  the  route  into  the  interior  had  to  be  contested 
with  savage  cannibal  tribes  whose  great  delight 
it  was  to  "  hold  up  "  the  little  steamers  on  their 
passage  up  the-  river.  To-day  the  pax  Britan- 
nka  has  taken  the  place  of  the  tyranny  of  slave- 


i''rotn  a  1 


THK  AUTHOR   AT   ViOHK   IN    HIS  TRAVELLING  TENT. 


raiders  and  the  diabolical  rule  of  the  "Ju-ju, 
and  the  British  flag  flies  from  the  sea  to  Ibi  on 
the  Anglo-French  frontier  and  from  the  Niger  to 
Lake  Tchad.  The  task  of  relating  how  in  this 
dark  region  order  has  come  out  of  chaos  I 
must  leave  for  the  present.  In  any  case  this  is 
neither  the  place  nor  occasion  to  touch  upon 
politics.  In  this  article  I  shall  only  endeavour 
to  relate  a  few  of  my  experiences  as  a  pioneer  in 
this  part  of  the   King's  dominions. 

I  have  already  said  that  the  early  days  were  a 
period  of  bitter  strife,  and  the  second  photo, 
reproduced  is  reminiscent  of  sanguinary  contests 
on  the  lower  reaches  of  the  Niger.  The 
principal  figure  in  the  group  is  that  of  a 
powerful  Brass  chief  whose  villainies  I  witnessed 

before  I  had  been 
on  the  Niger  many 
hours.  He  was  a 
bloodtliirsty  ruffian, 
whose  unlovely  fea- 
tures were  rendered 
more  repulsive  by 
the  head  -  dress  he 
was  in  the  habit  of 
wearing.  On  either 
side  of  this  were 
stuck  feathers  which 
had  been  dipped 
in  the  blood  of 
h  u  m  a  n  victims. 
These  gruesome 
relics  were  a  sign 
of  his  kingshij),  for 
before  he  could  rise 
to  this  position 
among  his  people 
he  had  to  give 
evidence  to  the 
[Photo.        tribe    that    he    had 


TWENTY -FIVE    YEARS    IN    NIGERIA. 


I6l 


slain  a  given  number  of  men.  On  the  second 
day  after  my  arrival  I  was  camped  on  the 
swampy  banks  of  the  lower  river,  within  sight 
and  hearing  of  the  everlasting  Atlantic  rollers 
breaking  in  over  the  bar,  when  in  the  still  hours 

of  the  early  morning  I 
heard  tiie  whistle  of  a 
paddle  -  steamer  on  its 
arrival     with      produce 


THE   SEATED    FIGURE    IS    A    rOWEKKUL   Or.D    HRASS   CHIEF    WHO 
From  a\  POSSESSES   A   MOST    UNENVIABLE    RECOKD.  [PhotO. 


from  the  upper  river.  We  turned  out  to  welcome 
the  new  arrivals  and  to  help  the  vessel  to  tie  up, 
when,  to  our  dismay,  we  'jaw  that  the  deck  was 
a  veritable  charnel-house,  and  that  dead  bodies 
seemed  to  be  everywhere.  As  the  Sokoto — 
for  that  wasl  her  name  —  came  in  closer  I 
counted  no  fewer  than  fifteen  corpses !  I 
soon  heard  from  the  captain  what  had  taken 
place.  The  vessel  had  been  ambushed  by  the 
scoundrelly  Brass  chief  whose  portrait  is  here 
reproduced.  Quite  unsuspectingly  the  Soko/o 
was  steaming  seawards  when  she  was  suddenly 
brought  up  all  standing  in  a  narrow  part  of  the 
river  by  a  strong  fibrous  rope  made  from  the 
tendrils  of  the  rubber  plant,  which  had  been 
stretched  across  the  creek.  I'olh  banks  were 
alive  witii  savages  armed  with  guns  and  smooth- 
bore cannon,  who  at  once  0[)ened  fire  at  a  few 
yards' distance,  instantly  killing  fifteen  of  those 
on  deck  and  wounding  the  captain.  The  per- 
petrators of  this  outrage  were  Brass  "middle- 
men," led  by  this  chief,  who  resented  white  men 
trading  in   the  interior,  and  so  interfering  with 

Vol.  X.-21. 


their  profits.  As  the  scoundrels  had  their 
guns  trained  on  the  Sokoto  from  both  banks, 
and  those  on  board  were  only  armed  with 
a  few  rifles,  the  vessel  would  speedily  have 
fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy  had  it  not 
been  for  the  heroic  conduct  of  the  ship's  car- 
penter, Mr.  Allan,  an  Aberdonian,  who,  with 
great  presence  of  mind  and  under  a  heavy  fire, 
rushed  forward  and  with  a  few  blows  of  an  axe 

severed  the  rope  which 
had  stopped  the  vessel, 
thus  enabling  her  to 
steam  rapidly  ahead  out 
of  the  zone  of  danger. 

I  mention  this  incident 
as  being  characteristic  of 
the  early  days,  and  be- 
cause it  was  one  whicli 
will  be  ever  memorable 
as  forming  the  very 
commencement  of  my 
acquaintance  with  the 
region  now  called  Nigeria. 
These  same  people  as 
lately  as  1896  attacked, 
plundered,  and  entirely 
destroyed  the  company's 
station  at  Akassa,  carry- 
ing off  a  large  number  of 
prisoners,  no  fewer  than 
sixty- five  of  whom  were 
killed  and  eaten,  the 
mission  converts  taking 
part  in  the  dreadful  orgy. 
Sir  Claude  Macdonald, 
then  British  Commis- 
sioner, vouched  for  this  appalling  total.  Fortu- 
nately no  Europeans  were  caught. 

Six  and  a  half  days'  steam  up  the  river  from  the 
coast  is  the  island  of  Jebba,  which,  with  its  mass 
of  huts,  is  admirably  dej)icted  in  the  third  photo- 
graph. When  I  first  knew  the  place  it  was 
nt)thing  but  a  barren  island,  dominated  by  the 
great  "Ju-ju"  rock,  which  is  a  characteristic 
landmark  of  this  part  of  the  Niger.  Now  it  is 
the  headquarters  of 'the  Clovernment,  which 
established  itself  there  in  1898.  The  island  is 
about  two  miles  long  by  one  mile  broad  and  is 
situated  practically  at  the  head  of  navigation  on 
the  Niger,  dangerous  rocks  blocking  the  channel 
above  this  point.  The  administrative  buildings 
are  not  shown  in  the  picture,  being  on  the 
right  bank  of  the  river. 

On  the  island  live  one  of  the  battalions  of 
the  West  African  Frontier  Force  and  the 
native  population,  numbering  some  thousands. 
In  the  far  distance  a  group  of  huts  marks  the 
site  of  the  original  town.  Periodical  fires 
occur  among    the  closely  packed   grass    houses 


l62 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


of  the  natives,  which  are,  however,  easily 
renewed  in  a  few  days.  The  curious  square 
to   the   left    of   the  view  is  the    market-place. 


Ill 


THE  ISLAND  oK  JF.UbA,  THK  IlKAU-QLAr  II-  H 
OF   THE   GOVERNMENT. 


At  this  point  the  river 
is  300  yards  broad,  very 
deep  and  rapid,  and 
ahoundini^  in  alli;4ators. 
One  mysterious  alliga- 
tor, known  as  the  "Ju- 
ju  alligator,"  succeeded 


takini 


sixteen 


people  last  year.  For 
days  at  a  stretch  firing 
parties  go  out  in  search  of  the  monster, 
i)ut  they  have  never  yet  succeeded  in 
capturing  him.  For  whole  nights 
officers  sit  up  fur  him  and  tempi  him 
Willi  tit-bils  in  tile  way  of  dead  horses 
and  live  goats,  which  they  put  close 
to  the  river  bank,  but  with  such  an 
absence  of  su(  cess  that  the  natives  have  really 
come  to  rcgartl  the  beast  as  sacred  and  immune 
from  the  white  man's  bullets.  When  the 
pursuit  becomes  too  hot  the  wily  'gafor — who, 
by  the  way,  must  be  full  of  lead — disappears  for 
a  time,  only  to  reappear  and  snatch  another 
victim  when  lie  thinks  his  depredations  have 
been  more  or  less  forgotten. 

Adjacent  to  the  island  of  Jebba  stands  the 
"Juju"  rock,  known  to  the  natives  as  the 
"  Kuti  "  or  Devil  Rock.  It  is  about  350ft.  in 
height  and  has  sheer  precipitous  sides,  for  the 
most  part  bare  of  vegetation,  and  supposed 
by  liic  superstilious  natives  to  be  unclimb- 
able.  On  various  occasions  officers  in  the  West 
African  l-'rontier  Force  and  officials  of  the  Niger 
Company  have  essayed  to  reach  the  lop,  their 


THE    MYSTERIOUS        JU-JU        ROCK,    WHICH    THE 
NATIVES    BELIEVED   TO    HE   UNCLIMnAULE. 

From  a  Photo. 


want  of  success  giving  point  to  llie  belief  of  the 
peo[)le  that  the  "Ju-ju"  inhabiting  the  rock 
always  drove  intruders  back.  Last  year,  how- 
ever, the  spell  was  broken,  for  a  young  officer 
succeeded  in  climbing  tlie  hill  and  planting  the 
British  flag-  the  great  annihilator  of  "Ju-jus" 
—  at  the  summit. 

Many  years  ago  Mr.  ^\'alts,  now  Agcnt- 
Cieiicral  for  the  Niger  Company,  and  myself 
tried  to  discover  the  secret  of  the  place.  We 
did  not  meet  any  devils,  but  we  met  a  most 
formidal)le  "  Ju-ju  "  in  the  shape  of  bees. 
Mr.  Walls  and  I  had  got  half-way  up — my  com- 
[)anion  carrying  the  flag  which  we  hoped  to 
unfurl  at  the  top  when  from  all  sides  swarms 
of  bees  ajipeared  and  quickly  settled  on  us. 
My  hands    being    free    I    succeeded   in   beating 


TWENTY -FIVK    VIOARS    IN    NIGERIA. 


16: 


them  off,  but   Mr.  Walts  fared  very  badly,  and 

in  his  endeavours  to  rid  himself  of  the  insects 

lost  his  footing  and  crashed  down  the  precipitous 

sides  of  the  hill,  being  afterwards  picked  up  in 

an  unconscious  condition.     So  persistent   were 

our  tormentors  that  they  even  followed  us  down 

to  the  steamer,  and  we  were  both  stung  very 

badly.     The  officer  who  succeeded  in  climbing 

the   rock,   last    year   had    a   somewhat    smiilar 

experience,      but 

n  e  V  e  r  t  h  e  less 

managed    to    get 

through  to  the 

top. 

The  vicinity  of 

this  rock  is  quite 

deserted,   no 

native  living  near 

it,    but     I    think 

they  now  regard 

the  rock  "Ju-ju"' 

as    a    fraud,    for 

they  are  making 

money  by  collect- 
ing the  honey  on 

the    slopes.      So 

much    did    the 

inhabitants     fear 

this  place  that 

even    so   late   as 
1895    the    wreck 

of    the    gunboat 

Dayspring,  which 

was  stranded  on 
the  spot  nearly 
fifty  years  ago, 
remained  unmo- 
lested and  intact, 
it  being  the  firm 
belief  of  the 
natives  that  the 
"  K  u  t  i  "  h  a  d 
wrecked  the  ship. 
A  few  years  ago 
the  people  wit- 
nessed with  fear  and  trembling  a  party  of  Euro- 
peans approach  this  wreck  in  a  native  canoe 
and  remove  a  curiosity  in  the  shape  of  an  old- 
fashioned  propeller,  which  now  reposes  peace- 
fully on  the  lawn  of  a  noted  Liver[)ool  gentleman. 
The  "Ju-ju"  being  tluis  "  broken,"  the  people 
made  short  work  of  the  Dayspring,  only  the 
strong  boiler  remaining  to  mark  the  spot  where 
she  was  lost  so  many  years  ago. 

Not  the  least  among  the  plagues  of  Britisli 
West  Africa  are  the  mosquitoes,  scorpions, 
snakes,  and  white  ants,  which,  even  when  not 
dangerous  to  life  or  destructive  to  property,  are, 
to  say  the  least,  unpleasant  companions.     The 


recent  inciuiries  into  the  causes  of  malaria 
have  proved  that  some  of  the  old  methods  of 
preventing  the  ingress  of  these  pests  into  the 
dwelling  houses  of  Europeans  arc  themselves  a 
positive  source  of  danger. 

In  the  next  photograph,  which  shows  a  corner 
of  Sir  Frederick  Lugard's  veranda  at  Jebba, 
it  will  be  seen  that  the  houses  are  not  only 
raised   above  the   ground,  but   that  affixed   to 

the  piles  are 
small  troughs. 
These,  w  hen 
filled  with  water, 
prevented,  to  a 
great  extent,  the 
ingress  of  white 
ants  and  other 
insects,  but  now 
that  it  has  been 
proved  that  these 
little  tanks  form 
splendid  breed- 
ing-places for  the 
anopheles  mos- 
quito—the prime 
cause  of  malaria 
— their  use  has 
been  discon- 
tinued. The 
houses  are  con- 
structed of  wood 
and  the  roofs  are 
usually  covered 
with  felt. 

In  the  corner 
of  the  veranda 
shown  in  the 
photo.  Sir  Fred- 
erick Lugard 
lately  killed  a 
great  adder, 
which  he  dis- 
covered one 
evening  after 
dinner  at  the  very 
moment  when  a  French  officer  who  happened 
to  be  a  guest  of  the  British  Commissioner 
was  on  the  point  of  stepping  upon  it.  What 
would  the  cheaii  papers  of  the  Taris  boulevards 
have  said  if  a  I'rench  officer  had  met  his  death 
from  snake-bite  while  the  guest  of  a  British 
Governor? 

In  order  to  reach  Jebba  Island  from  the  main- 
land one  has  to  employ  one  of  the  native 
ferries,  a  specimen  of  which  forms  the  subject 
of  my  next  picture.  These  great  canoes  are 
of  an  average  length  of  60ft.,  and  are  propelled 
by  from  six  to  eight  native  rowers.  In  the  photo- 
graph  one  of  these  ferry-boats  is  just   coming 


A     COKNKK    OK    SIR    V.    I.VliAKKS 
VIKANDA  — OIISERVE  THE   LHTI  K 

\\atek-tkolc;hs   fixku  koi'nd 

the  piles  to  keel'  outwhiie 

From  a]        ants.         [F/wto. 


164 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


alongside  with  a  crew  of  Nupes  who  have  been 
on  a  fishing  expedition.  A  glance  at  the  happy, 
smiling  faces  of  these  people  is  sufficient  to 
indicate  that  they  are  well  cared  for  under 
British  rule.  Formerly  they  were  slaves  who 
were  released  by  Sir  George  Goldie  and  made 
free  British  subjects  by  the  abolition  of  the  legal 
status  of  slavery.  They  are  most  useful,  and 
greatly  assist  the  Government  in  transport  work. 
Most  of  the  river  pilots  and  many  of  the  soldiers 
of  the  West  African  Frontier  Force  are  recruited 

from  these  peo- 
ple. Many  of 
tlie   largest 


The  ne.xt  photo,  is  a  very  curious  and  interest" 
ing  picture.  It  is  a  snap-shot  taken  by  me  near 
the  King  of  the  Canoemen's  town,  Muraji,  and 
shows  the  chief's  Royal  barge.  This  differs 
from  the  ordinary  canoe  in  having  m  the  bow 
an  elaborate  structure  covered  with  red  baize, 
under  which  the  King  sits  while  he  is  being 
rowed  by  his  crew  of  specially  selected  men. 
In  this  canoe  the  chief  makes  tours  up  and 
down  the  river  in  order  to  visit  the  hundreds  of 
villages  over  which  he  has  jurisdiction.  This 
canoe  King  was  appointed  to  his  post  as  a 
reward  for  his  loyally  to  the  British  during  the 
Bida  campaign. 


,■„:  „J 


A    NAlUh    IthKY-UOAl    tOMl.NG   ALONGSIDE   THE    LANDING-ILACE. 


{I'hoto. 


canoes  carry  one  or  two  drummers.  One  of 
these  is  to  be  seen  sl;\nding  in  the  stern  of  the 
boat.  These  musicians  keep  up  a  constant  "  tom- 
tomming"  while  the  men  ply  their  long  paddles, 
singing  weird  chants  as  they  speed  along.  The 
natives  are  expert  puntsmen  and  make  their 
craft  go  at  least  six  knots  an  hour. 

Tlie  whole  canoe  system  of  the  Upper  Niger 
is  under  the  supervision  of  a  chief  known  as  the 
"  King  of  the  Canoemen."  He  is  a  personage 
of  considerable  importance  and  can  trace  his 
descent  for  centuries.  H(;  receives  j)ayment  from 
the  (iovernment  for  his  services  and  himself  pays 
the  canoemen.  That  this  is  a  very  extensive 
business  is  evident  when  I  .say  that  often  we 
have  as  many  as  150  of  these  craft  employed 
simultaneously  in  tr.iiisponing  material. 


Of  all  my 
\aried  experi- 
ences in  North- 
ern Nigeria, 
perhaps  nothing 

was  more  interesting  than  the  journey  I  made 
eight  years  ago  to  the  cily  of  Sokoto,  the  great 
centre  of  the  fanatical  Mohammedans  of  the 
Central  Souilan,  antl  a  city  which  has  only  been 
visited  by  one  other  living  l"2uro[)can.  The 
Emir  of  Sokoto,  as  is  well  known,  is  the  suzerain 
of  all  the  Haussa  States — a  territory  about 
300,000  sc]uarc  miles  in  extent.  Sokoto  has 
not  yet  come  under  effective  British  rule  and 
has  not  yet  been  dealt  with  by  us,  hut  ([uestions 
of  policy  must  not  be  referred  to  here. 

'rhe    next   photograph    is    unique,    being  the 


TWKK'iT-r-ivr.  viURs  in  nkikria. 


i6s 


iNiLiiaiiliifcBifc 


THE  STAIE  UARGE  OP  THE 
KING  OF  THE  CANOEMEN. 

From  a  Photo. 


only  one  ever  taken 
of  the  ruler  of  Sokoto. 
I  had  great  difficulty 
in  j)t'rsuading  him  to 
face  my  camera.  The  Sultan  is  an  elderly  man, 
now  nearly  eighty  years  of  age,  and  in  the  picture 
is  to  be  seen  sitting  on  a  mat,  without  any  pre- 
tence of  state,  inside  his  katamha,  or  audience 
chamber.  Behind  him  is  an  earthwork  throne. 
The  Emir  is  attired  in  a  burnous  of  the  purest 
white,  and  wears  on  his  head  the  ureen  turl 
which  only  those 
who  have  made 
the  pilgrimage  to 
Mecca  have  the 
right  to  don.  In 
front  of  him  is  an 
open  copy  of  the 
Koran,  and  it  was 
on  this  that  he 
swore  to  keep  the 
treaty  I  made  with 
him.  During  the 
memorable  week  I 
spent  in  his  capital 
I  was  treated  with 
every  courtesy,  and 
was  loaded  with 
valuable  presents, 
including  some  fine 
horses. 

It  was  not  with- 
out much  appre- 
hension that  I  first 
approached  the 
city,  and  this  feel- 
ing was  not  allayed 
when    on     ncaring 


the'palace  gates  the  first  object  that  met  my  gaze 
was  the  headless  body  of  a  man  stretched  in  a 
])ool  of  blood  under  the  glaring  sunlight,  the 
head  of  the  wretched  victim  being  at  the 
moment  affi.xed  to  a  stick.  I  was  told  that  the 
corpse  was  that  of  a  man  who  had  endeavoured 

to  entice  a  slave 
from  her  master, 
and  who  on  dis- 
covery was  at  once 
sentenced  to  death 
by  the  Sultan  and 
immediately  exe- 
cuted. 

The  city  of  So- 
koto is  one  of  the 
largest  and  most 
important  towns  of 
the  Central  Soudan. 
1 1  is  enclosed  by 
high  walls  sixteen 
miles  round  and 
entered  through  a 
number  of  carefully- 
guarded  gates. 
Surrounding  the  city 
is  a  deep  moat, 
crossed  by  frail 
bridges  of  sticks, 
which  can  be  quickly 
destroyed  on  the 
approach  of  an 
enemy.  The  posi- 
tion is  healthy,  the 
site   being  on    a 


TIIK    ONI.V    PHOTOGMAPH     EVKK 

TAKEN    OK     TIIK 

SULTAN    OK   SOKOTO. 


i66 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


plateau  250ft.  above  the  surrounding  rivers. 
The  streets  are  wide  and  well  kept,  and  the 
market  -  place  is  one  of  the  most  important 
in  Haussaland.  The  population  is  about  16,000, 
but  at  the  weekly  market  there  are  rarely  fewer 
than  30,000  people,  who  travel  from  all  parts  to 
sell  their  wares.  The  sight  of  this  great 
concourse  of  shouting  and  excited  people  is  one 
never  to  be  forgotten.  Thousands  of  patient 
camels  are  to  be  seen  around  the  market,  nearly 
all  of  which  have  come  in  from  across  the  great 
Sahara,  some  even  from  distant  Tripoli. 

But  perhaps  the  most  interesting  sight  in  this 
wonderful  city  is  the  tomb  of  Othman-dan-Fodio, 
the  founder  of  the  Sokoto  empire,  who  died 
early  in  the  nineteenth  century.  This  building, 
which  is  shown  in  the  accompanying  snap-shot, 
occupies  the  point  of  honour  in  the 
centre  of  the  town,  and  is  a  place  of 


SOKOTI.I    I 


'   \    .    I'A  ■. -I  '  <IIM»,     I  Ml",     VOLSnhlv     <IK     'IMI' 
IS   A    I'l.ACK   OK    I'll.t.KIMAdK    FOR    ALL 
lAMMHUANS    IN    HAUSSALAND. 

From  a  Photo. 


pilgrimage  for  all  the  Mohammedans  in  the 
ll.uissa  Slates.  It  is  regarded  as  a  spot  of  the 
greatest  sanctity,  and  the  Sultan,  who  visits  it 
in  state  once  every  year,  is  personally  responsible 
for  its  upkeep. 

The  tomb  is  erected  in  the  centre  of  the 
largest  square,  and  stands  quite  apart  from 
"''*'  "^  '.  ",1;,  ,  (),(.  houses  in  the  immediate 
f  which  are  self  contained  and 
.surrounded  by  walls,  being  the  residences  of  the 
princes. 


The  tomb,  as  will  be  seen  from  the  picture, 
although  not  of  great  height,  towers  above  the 
palace  walls.      It  is  remarkable  as  being  one  of 
the    finest    specimens    of    architecture    in    the 
Haussa  empire,  having  been  erected  by  Moorish 
masons.      The   picture   shows    the   outer   wall 
which  encloses  the  tomb  itself.     This  outer  wall 
has    but    one    opening,    leading    to    the    inner 
chamber,  within  which  no  unbeliever  is  allowed 
to   set   his   foot.     The  most  noticeable   feature 
in    this    inner   chamber    is   a    slab    of    mosaic 
covering     the     Sultan's    resting-place.       Under 
this  the  body,  wrapped  in  innumerable  folds  of 
white   brocade,   lies  in  a  kind   of  pit,   covered 
with    a    thin    roofing    of  cemented    sticks,    an 
arrangement    to  prevent   the   earth    coming   in 
contact    with     the     body.       Attendants    whose 
post     is     hereditary    guard 
the    place    night    and    day. 
Curiously    enough,     though 
the    building    itself 
is      maintained      in 
good  order  the  sur- 
roun dings    are 
neglected,  and  long 
grass,     which     may 
be  discerned  in  the 
picture,     has     been 
allowed  to  grow  up. 
One   hundred 
miles    to  the  south 
of    Sokoto    is   a 
dense   forest,  which 
has   the   reputation 
of     being     infested 
with     rol)bers.       It 
took   us    forty-eight 
hours     to     traverse 
its   gloomy    depths, 
and  during  our  pro- 
gress we   felt  some 
anxiety    as  to  what 
might    happen,    for 
we   knew   that    the 
place  was  the  scene 
of   continual    raids    by    inde- 
pendent tribes.     The  Sultan, 
however,    dispatched  a    large 
body  of   mounted  troops   to  guard   us   in    this 
dangerous  district,   and    as  our  caravan   wound 
its    way    slowly    through    the    forest   tracks    the 
cavalry  formed   up   on  either  side,  those  at  the 
end   of   the   line  galloi)ing    up  to  the  head    as 
soon  as  the  last  man  of  our  party  had  passed. 

Our  caravan  was  over  six  miles  in  length,  for 
tlunisands  of  merchants,  and  others  who  had 
been  collecting,  took  advantage  of  the  presence 
of  the  troops  to  join  our  party.  No  sooner 
were  we  clear  of  the  forest  than  these  hangers- 


J 


TWENTV-FIVK    VKaRS    IN     MOKRIA. 


167 


A    t'ACJAN    CANNIBAL    VILLAGE    NEAR   THE    BENUE    RIVEK — TH 

From  a\  white  man  before. 


on  disappeared  with  astonishing  rapidity,  leav- 
ing only  my  own  caravan  and  the  Sultan's 
officials.  Since  my  visit  to  Sokoto,  eight  years 
ago,  no  personal  communication  with  Europeans 
has  taken  place,  and  the  Sultan  resolutely 
refuses  to  hold  any  converse  with  them. 
Government  messengers  who  have  endeavoured 
to  enter  the  town  have 
been  warned  off  imme- 
diately on  their  arrival. 

Generally  speaking, 
there  is  something 
approaching  a  state  of 
comparative  civilization 
throughout  Haussaland, 
at  any  rate  in  those 
places  where  the  an- 
cient pagan  rites  have 
been  superseded  by 
M  o  h  a  m  m  e  d  a  n  i  s  m . 
The  natives  are  highly 
skilled  in  many  arts 
and  their  commercial 
enterprise  and  honesty 
are  most  marked.  In 
many  districts,  how- 
ever, especially  in  the 
highlands,  paganism 
and  cannibalism  prevail 
to  a  large  extent,  and 
"Ju-ju"  worship  is 
rampant. 

Aly  next  picture  is 
that  of  a  typical  i>agan 


pp  null  1  il  I  itl'ifr."> 
It 

fi  : 

n  l:  ;i .  •   1  <ni  •>    \  11 

l.i-t  s  of  the 
\'oragum  tribe 
to  the  north  of 
the  Hcnue,  the 
great  tributary 
of  the  Niger, 
which  runs  from 
l.okoja  almoit 
to  I^ke  '1  chad. 
This  village  is 
situated  on  tlie 
lirecipitous 
banks  of  an  un- 
navigable  creek 
flowing  into  the 
Benue,  and 
coming  down 
from  the  Baut- 
chi  higiilands. 
It  was  visited 
by  me  a  few 
months  ago  on  the  occasion  of  the  occupation 
of  the  slave-raiding  province  of  Bautchi,  situated 
five  weeks'  journey  from  head-quarters. 

As  we  marched  along  we  could  see  hundreds 
of  these  villages  huddled  together  on  either 
bank  of  the  creeks  and  along  the  mountain 
slopes.       The    inliabitants     of    these    conical 

thatched  houses  had 
never  before  looked 
upon  a  white  man  and 


E    INHABITANTS    HAD    NEVER    SEEN    A 

{I'holo. 


A    WHOLESOME   TERIioR    TO    1 


MI.DOEKS— THE   "TAME"  CANNIIIALS   KBIT   ll^ 
/•'rom  <f  i'holo. 


[68 


THE    WIDE    WO  RLE)    ^L\GAZINE. 


at  first  proved  hostile.  They  very  foolishly 
attacked  the  van  of  the  expedition  and  killed  a 
guide,  for  which  summary  punishment  was  in- 
flicted. In  less  than  a  week  these  wild  people 
were  working  quietly  for  us  and  were  cutting  a 
twelve-foot  road  nearly  twenty  miles  in  length 
through  their  country. 

As  a  rule  the  Yoragums  were  quite  naked, 
except -for  a  small  leather  apron  worn  by  the 
men  and  bunches  of 
leaves  by  the  women. 
In  one  photo,  a  group 
of  them  who  have  been 
down  to  the  river  to 
fetch  water  may  be 
seen.  These  villagers 
were  among  the  most 
hideous  people  I  have 
seen  in  Africa.  They 
are  perfectly  black,  and 
with  their  filed  teeth 
and  cicatrized  faces  and 
bodies  are  unusually  re- 
pellent. Kor  generations 
these  cannibals  had 
closed  the  caravan 
route  viii  the  Benue 
River  to  Bautchi  and 
l^ke  Tchad,  and  every 
merchant  or  other 
stranger  ap()earing  in 
the  country  was  killed 
and  eaten. 

Five  years  ago  an 
American  missionary, 
while  attempting  to 
work  through  the  coun- 
try, was  devoured  by 
them,  and  this  was  also 
the  fate  of  the  guide 
who  was  taken  from  us. 
One  of  our  soldiers  had 
been  killed  in  the  fight- 
ing with  these  p''0[)le,  and 
when  wc  demanded  that  his 
body  should  be  given  up  the 
cannibals  sent  back  his 
clothes  and  accoutrements, 
but  expressed  their  regret 
that  the  body  had  already 
been  eaten.  .Scattered  among 
these  villages  we  noticei 
many  curious  stone  enclo 
sures,  fontnining  what  looked  like  miniature 
houses,  about  3ft.  high.  On  investigation  we 
found  that  each  of  these  tiny  dwellings  was  full 
of  skulls,  each  contained  in  a  calabash. 

We  were   tf^Id   that  it  was   customary  among 
these   oxtraordiii  irv    people    to    fxlninie    every 


body  after  an  interval  of  forty  days  and 
decapitate  it.  The  head  was  then  taken  before 
"  Ju-ju  "  priests,  who  decided  as  to  the  cause  of 
death.  If  the  priest  thinks  he  can  point  to 
any  man  from  whom  he  can  extort  money  as 
having  been  responsible  for  death,  he  at  once 
says  the  deceased  was  poisoned  and  inflicts  a 
heavy  fine  on  the  unfortunate  "  murderer." 
After   this    farcical   inquiry    the  head  is  placed 

in  one   of   the  skull-houses   I  have 

described. 


IIIE   S1RAN<;E    rock    at   WASSA — IT    IS 

OVKK    A    THOUSAND    FEET    HIGH    AND 

HAS    NEVER    BEEN    SCALED. 

F)om  a  Photo. 


A  NATURAL  SACRIFICIAL  ALTAR 

IN     THE    YORAGUM    COUNTRY— 

IHE    TOP   STONE  WEIGHS   SOME 

HUNDREDS  OF  TONS  AND  IS 

I'OISED  ON  A  PEDESTAL 

40KT.    HIGH. 

From  a  Photo. 


At  most  of 
the  courts  of  the 
great  Emirs  a 
f e w  of  these 
cannibals  who 
have  been  taken 
as  prisoners  are 
retained  as  a 
wholesome 
terror  to  evil- 
doers, and  the 
photograph  on 
the  preceding 
j)age  shows  two 
of  these  high  priests  of  cannibalism  in  the 
courtyard  of  the  Emir  of  Nupe.  The  men 
Were  not  posed  for  the  occasion,  but  were 
snap-shotted  by  me  unawares.  'Ihe  tall  man 
is  the  principal,  and  is  clothed  in  a  tohe — a 
mark  of  great  respect  on  the  part  of  his  master, 


TWENTY -11 VI-:    VEARS    IN     NKiERIA. 


169 


the  Emir.  The  scoundrel  on  the  left  is  not  so 
elaborately  attired.  The  office  of  this  individual 
is  to  attend  the  chief  priest  and  to  carry  about 
pieces  of  human  remains,  which  he  eats  in  the 
presence  of  the  onlookers  ! 

The  horrible  rite  forms  a  sort  of  object-lesson 
to  the  Mohammedan  tribesmen,  and  is  supposed 
to  warn  them  how  they  will  be  punished  for  evil 
deeds.  Every  day  these  cannibal  priests  make 
a  tour  of  the  town  giving  their  disgusting  per- 
formance. While  the  tall  man,  as  seen  in  the 
picture,  shouts  and  dances  and  makes  horrible 
grimaces,  the  second  performer  devours  his 
pieces  of  human  flesh. 

The  succeeding  photo,  is  a  view  of  one  of  the 
most  extraordinary  works  of  Nature  I  witnessed 
in  this  Yoragum  country.  It  is  surrounded  by 
teeming  villages,  and  is  the  central  sacrificial 
place  of  the  district.  The  top  stone — an  enor- 
mous block  of  rock  weighing  some  hundreds 
of  tons — is  poised  on  the  top  of  a  natural 
pedestal  about  40ft.  in  height,  while  all  around 


the  victims,  after  being  dispatched  on  the 
surface,  were  afterwards  hurled  to  the  ground. 
When  (juestioned  on  the  subject  the  Yoragums 
denied  that  they  practised  cannibalism  or  offered 
human  sacrifices,  but  if  the  presence  of  the 
many  bleaching  skeletons  had  not  belied  this, 
the  statements  of  the  neighbouring  tribes  proved 
beyond  doubt  the  existence  of  these  horrors. 

Another  picture  is  a  view  of  an  extraordinary 
rock  outside  the  city  of  Wassa,  on  the  Upper 
Renue,  which  is  over  a  thousand  feet  high, 
with  precipitous  and  unclimbable  sides  More 
than  a  hundred  years  ago  it  was  a  great  centre 
of  paganism,  and  is  still  held  in  great  venera- 
tion, no  living  person  having  been  known  to 
ascend  it.  One  of  my  officers  tried  to  scale 
it,  but  had  to  return  after  accomplishing  one- 
third  of  the  ascent.  The  rock  is  remarkable  as 
being  the  home  of  countless  pelican.s,  it  being 
indeed  the  only  known  breeding-place  of  these 
birds  in  Northern  Nigeria.  The  rock  is  cleft 
down  the  centre  from  top  to  bottom. 


From  a\ 


NATIVES   LOOKING   Al     1I1E   WHITE    MANS    STEEL    llAKuE.  {FhctO. 


are  strewn  enormous  boulders.  On  visiting  it  I 
found  round  its  base  hundreds  of  skulls  and 
skeletons,  but  nowhere  a  sign  of  a  living  soul. 

I  ascertained  that  the  platform  of  this  natural 
altar  was  reached  by  means  of  a  long  ladder,  of 
which  there  was  no  sign  on  my  visit,  and  that 


Some  of  the  tribes  on  the  Benue  have  reached 


wn 


a  certain  degree  of  civilization.     Th 
in  the  photograph  area  number  of  tlv  i'l<-% 

who  came  into  one  of  the  Munshi  villages  to 
trade  and  then  strolled  down  to  the  riverside  to 
gaze  on  the  white  man's  strange  steel  barge. 


{To  be  continued.) 


Vol.  X.— 22. 


Paris   to   New  York   Overland. 

THE    NARRATIVE    OF    A    REMARKABLE    EXPEDITION. 

By     Harry     de     Windt,     F.R.G.S 
I.— PARIS   TO   YAKUTSK. 

We  have  much  pleasure  in  announcing  that  we  have  secured  the  sole  and  exclusive  right  to  publish 
the  only  illustrated  account  of  Mr.  de  Windt's  great  feat  which  will  appear  in  this  country.  As  a 
glance  at  the  accompanying  map  will  show,  the  explorer's  journey  necessitated  traversing  some  of 
the  wildest  and  most  inhospitable  regions  of  the  earth,  where  even  the  elements  fought  against  the 
intrepid  party.  Mr.  de  Windt  essayed  the  journey  once  before,  but  on  that  occasion  the  expedition  came 
to  grief  on  the  ice-bound  shores  of  Behring  Sea,  and  the  author  barely  escaped  with  his  life  from 
the  hands  of  the  savage  natives.  This  time  complete  success  has  crowned  the  venture;  but 
the    adventures    met    with,    and    the    unheard-of    privations    endured     by    the    party,    form    a   unique 

record   of    human    endurance    and    dogged   pluck. 


Y  first  attempt  to  reach  Paris  from 
New  York  by  land  was  made  in 
1896.  On  this  occasion  the  route 
lay  through  the  United  States  to 
San     Francisco  ;     from    thence    to 

Juneau,    in    Alaska ;    from    Juneau,    over    the 

Chilkoot     Pass, 

to  the  head  waters 

of    the    Yukon 

River,  and  thence 

down    the    Yukon 

to    St.     Michael's, 

on  Behring  Straits. 

The  journey  across 

Alaska   was   in 

those  days  one  of 

great  difficulty,  for 

precipitous  passes, 

stormy   lakes,  and 

dangerous     rapids 

had    to  be  negoti 

atcd  before  Klon- 
dike,    which     is 

now    within     easy 

reach  of  civiliza- 
tion    by    steam, 

was   reached. 

From     H(;hring 

Straits  my  way  lay 

through  Siberia  to 

I'.uropcan    Russia 

and  thence  across 

( i  c  r  ni  a  n  y      to 

France ;    but    my 

advance    was     im 

peded    by  a   trib 

of    natives,    livin 

on     the     Siberian 

shores   of   t  h  t- 

Arctic,  who  con- 
fiscated my  pro- 
visions   and    <;vcn 


stripped  me  of  clothes,  which  they  replaced  by 
filthy  furs.  Thus  I  was  virtually  kept  a  prisoner 
for  nearly  two  months,  and  eventually  rescued 
by  the  last  whaler  out  of  the  Arctic  Ocean, 
which,  fortunately  observing  my  signal  of  dis- 
tress, stood  in  shore  as  near  as  the  rapidly- 
forming  ice  would 
allow.  I  reached 
the  ship  with  diffi- 
culty over  the  mov- 
ing floes,  and  was 
carried  down  to 
San  Francisco,  far 
froin  the  Paris  I 
had  hoped  to  reach. 
Upon  my  last  ex- 
pedition two  years 
of  preparation  were 
devoted  to  render- 
ing it  the  success 
which,  I  think  I 
may  assume,  it 
has  proved.  Not  a 
stone  was  left  un- 
turned down  to  the 
last  cartridge  or 
ounce  of  provi- 
sions, and  although 
the  p  r  i  \ a  t  i  o  n  s 
which  we  under- 
went during  the 
two  months'  jour- 
ney by  dog  -  sled 
from  the  last  Sibe- 
rian outpost  to 
brhring  Straits 
wcic  undoubtedly 
severe,  they  were, 
as  will  be  seen, 
unavoidable,  and 
almost  entirely  due 
to  climatic  causes. 


AI'I'KAKED  WHICN    KKSCUED   FROM    THE    SIIOKKS  OK    IIEHKING 
•  WKkl'.    ALMOST    IN    THE    LAST    EXTREMITY   OK   STARVATION. 

I'loiii  a  I'liolo. 


PARIS     lO     Xi:\V     YORK     OVERLAND. 


>7i 


On  t!ie  U)th  Dccenibcr,  1901,  tin-  T)e  Windl 
cxpctlilion  Icit  the  (iarc  du  Nord,  I'aris,  lor 
New  York  by  land,  with  the  object  of  ascertain- 
ing the  feasibiUty  of  an  overland  route,  by  rail, 
between  France  and  the  United  States.  The 
route  upon  this  occasion  lay  via  WcxWn  and 
Warsaw  to  Moscow.  I'rom  AIoscow  a  ten  days' 
journev  by  tlie  TransSiberian  Railway  brouj^ht  us 
to  Irkutsk,  where  civilized  means  of  communi- 
cation were  left,  and  a  journey  of  two  thousand 
miles  by  horse-sleigh  brought  us  to  Yakutsk. 
Yxoxw  Yakutsk  horse-sleigiis  were  replaced  by 
reindeer-sleds,  which  conveyed  us  for  another 
two  thousand  miles  across  the  dreary  steppes 
of    Northern   Siberia   to   the   tiny  settlement  of 


and  ("ape  Prince  of  Wales,  on  the  American 
shore,  was  unapproachable  for  a  distance  of 
about  seven  miles.  At  this  point  we  were 
landed  on  the  floating  ice-pack,  and  after  a 
dangerous  and  exhausting  journey  of  about 
seven  hours  managed  to  reach  the  American 
coast  more  dead  than  alive.  This  short  ice 
journey  was  one  that  I  shall  never  forget,  nor 
will,  I  fancy,  any  of  my  companions. 

By  the  courtesy  of  the  Wagon- Lits  Company 
of  London  and  Paris  the  expedition  was  franked 
through  free  of  cost  to  Irkutsk.  It  consisted  of 
three  members — myself,  Vicomte  de  Clinchamp 
Bellegarde,  and  (leorge  Harding — who  accom- 
panied me  on  the  previous  attempt  to  accomplish 


MAP   OF   THE   author's   ROUTE   FROM    PARIS   TO    NEW   YORK   OVERLAND. 


Sredni-Kolymsk,  on  the  Arctic  Ocean.  Sredni- 
Kolymsk  is  called  "  the  end  of  the  end  of 
the  world,"  and  is  the  most  dreaded  place 
of  exile  throughout  the  vast  dominions  ot 
the  Great  White  Czar.  I-Vom  Sredni-Kolymsk 
a  dog-sled  journey  of  two  thousand  miles 
(which  occui)ied  over  two  months)  brought 
us  to  Pchring  Straits,  where  we  remained 
for  five  weeks  unwilling  guests  of  a  race  ot 
natives  known  to  the  very  few  travellers  who 
have  seen  them  as  the  filthiest  people  in 
creation.  On  the  i8th  of  June  the  revenue- 
cutter  Thetis  called  at  the  village  of  walrus- 
hide  huts  where  we  were  stranded,  and  trans 
ported  us  as  far  as  possible  across  Hehring 
Straits.     But  the  ice-pack  was  unusually  heavy. 


the  overland  journey  in  1896.  The  rail  voyage 
from  Moscow  to  Irkutsk  is,  in  winter,  a  delightful 
one,  and  should  be  more  widely  patronized  by 
tourists.  For  comfortable,  roomy  cars,  an  ex- 
cellent restaurant,  a  library,  piano,  baths,  and 
barbers'  shops  render  the  Trans-Siberian  Wagon- 
Lits  train  a  veritable  (niin  de  luxe.  The  Russian 
express,  however,  which  runs  every  alternate 
week,  should  be  avoided,  for  it  is  far  inferior 
in  every  wav  to  its  successful  and  ui)-to-date 
rival. 

Our  stay  in  Irkutsk  was  fortunately  iinjited, 
for  it  is  by  no  means  an  interesting  place.  'Ihe 
streets  are  straggling  and  dirty,  the  shops  third- 
rate,  and  there  is  not  an  hotel  worthy  of  the 
name  in  the  city.     From  here  to  Yakutsk  the 


'7^ 


rnr:   wide   wori,!)   maga/ine. 


hrom  a  i'hoto.  t>y\        iiK.  H.  UE  windt.  [^Pack,  New  I'ork. 

journey  must  be  accomplished  m  a  curious 
conveyance  of  local  manufacture  known  as  a 
Yakute  sleigh,  which  is  simply  a  kind  of  bag  of 
rough  sacking  about  4ft.  deep,  into  which  the 
traveller  first  lowers  his  luggage,  then  his  furs 


f'roina]      THE    VICOMTE    DE   CI-INCHAMP    BELLEGAROE.        [PfloiO. 

and  pillows,  and,  lastly,  himself.  The  sleigh  is 
provided  with  a  thick  felt  apron,  which,  in  cold 
or  stormy  weather,  can  be  drawn  completely 
over  the  occupant.  This  sounds  warm  and 
comfortable,  but  is  precisely  the  reverse,  for  the 


hroHi  a 


V     IhKUTSK,     %-.  Mi.tsr.      itil.     lAhl^      ll-.l    I       Mil-.     KAM.WAV. 


{I'ltntQ. 


Paris    to   \i:\v   nork   ovkri.wIv 


I7.> 


frojii  n 


THE    LAST    MEAl.    IN    CIVILIZATION —MKS.     DE    WLSDTb    tAKEWLLL    LllNNEK    Willi    HtK    tlLSUA.SD. 


[t'ltOtj. 


moisture  of  the  breath  and  body  is  often  con- 
gealed into  a  mass  of  sohd  ice  on  the  inner  side 
of  the  cover,  which,  resting  upon  the  face  during 
sleep,  frequently  results  m  frost-bitten  nose  and 
cheeks. 

On  January  19th,  exactly  one  month  after 
leaving  Paris,  we  set  out  for  Yakutsk,  the 
journey  to  which  city  is  chiefly  accomplished 
over  the  frozen  surface  of  the  River  Lena.  The 
first  four  hundred  miles,  however,  lies  through 
dense  forests,  where  a  certain  amount  of  caution 
is  requisite,  as  the  woods  are  infested  with  run- 


away convicts,  who  occasionally  waylay  and  rob 
travellers.  The  week  before  we  passed  through 
this  region  the  mail  cart  was  ransacked  and  its 
driver  murdered,  and  such  occurrences  are 
frequent  enough.  Nor  was  our  journey  entirely 
free  from  peril  when  the  Lena  was  reached,  as 
the  numerous  hot  springs  falling  into  its  upper 
waters  frequently  render  the  ice  very  unsafe. 
Even  at  a  distance  of  two  thousand  milts  from 
the  sea  this  mighty  river  is  fully  three  miles 
wide  in  places,  and  the  post-track  is  indicated 
by  fir  branches  stuck  into  the  ice.     Post-houses 


/•Tom  a ) 


HIE    EXl'EUrriON    SLEICIUN.,    "W  k     UIK    l  K.iZKN    SlKhACE   OK    Till-:    KUl'c    \>   ^.^ 


174 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


of  a  very  primitive  description  are  to  be  found  at 
intervals  of  thirty  to  forty  miles  along  the  hanks 
of  the  Lena,  but  the  accommodation  is  of  the 
roughest  kind,  for  the  bare,  carpetless  rooms 
swarm  with  vermin,  and  nothing  is  obtainable 
but  hot  water  and  black  bread.  As  our 
own  tinned  provisions  were  hopelessly  frozen 
two  days  out  from  Irkutsk,  we  fared  poorly 
enough. 

Our  sleigh  trip  along  the  Lena  was  intolerably 
monotonous.  Day  after  day,  week  after  week, 
nothing  met  the  eye  but  one  invariable  suc- 
cession of  undulating  pine-clad  hills,  fringing 
the  dreary,  frozen  stream,  a  melancholy  land- 
scape, which  even  a  turquoise  sky  and  dazzling 
sunshine  were  unable  to  enliven.     The  weather 


richness  and  extent.  Machinery  has  lately  been 
introduced,  and  two  or  tliree  years  will  probably 
see  marvellous  results  achieved  by  its  importers. 
It  is  well  to  note,  however,  that  only  Russian 
subjects  are  permitted  to  work  the  gold. 

In  winter-time  there  are  very  few  travellers  on 
the  Lena  post-road,  and  we  met  with  scarcely  a 
score  throughout  the  whole  journey.  Amongst 
these  were  the  English  traveller,  Mr.  Talbot 
Clifton,  returning  from  a  shooting  expedition  in 
the  Lena  Delta,  and  Dr.  Herz,  the  discoverer  of 
the  Siberian  mammoth  lately  found  near  the 
Arctic  Ocean,  which  is  said  to  be  the  most 
perfect  specimen  of  this  antediluvian  monster 
ever  brought  to  light.  The  animal  was  found 
frozen  solid  in  a  large  block  of  ice,  where  it  had 


t' tout  a\ 


MK.     UK    WINUTS    SI. HIGH    AF    V1I1MS>K. 


\Fhoto. 


was  for  the  most  part  pleassant,  although 
r)rcnsiotialIy  violent  blizzards  and  heavy  snow- 
drifts would  keep  us  prisoners  in  some  filthy 
post-house  for  tvo  or  three  days.  Upsets  were 
<'f  fref|iient  occurrence,  for  we  travelled  through 
the  nights,  and  drunken  drivers  are  by  no  means 
scarce  on  this  road.  lUit  it  was  soft  falling,  and 
we  fortunately  escaped  serious  injury.  Three 
towns  only  were  pass.d  during  the  whole 
journey  Kiretisk,  Akkminsk,  and  Vitimsk. 
These  figure  largely  upf)n  our  ICnglish  maps, 
but  are  little  better  than  overgrown  villages, 
although  the  la.st  named  is  rapidly  growing  pros- 
perous as  the  centre  of  a  gold-mining  district, 
which  is  said   to  outrival  even  the  Klondike  in 


evidently  fallen  from  a  cliff  overhead,  for  its 
forelegs  were  broken  and  there  were  other  signs 
of  injury.  The  flesh  was  of  a  pinkish  colour, 
and  as  fresh  in  appearance  as  during  the 
monster's  lifetime  countless  ages  ago.  Some 
grasses  found  in  the  mouth  have  been  carefully 
preserved,  and  will  be  analyzed  with  a  view  to 
ascertaining  the  age  of  this  prehistoric  treasure, 
which  Dr.  -Herz  was  conveying,  in  sections,  to 
St.  Petersburg. 

(')n  the  14th  of  February  we  reached  Yakutsk,  a 
dismal-looking  city  of  about  si.\  thousand  inhabit- 
ants. It  consists  mostly  of  low,  one-storird 
wooden  houses,  but  there  are  two  or  three  fine 
churches,  the  gaily-painted  domes  and  gilt  crosses 


PARIS     rO    NEW     YORK    OVERLAND. 


/  > 


of  which  relieve,  to  a  certain  extent,  the  dull  and 
dreary  aspect  of  the  place.  Yakutsk  is  the 
capital  of  a  province  not  unusually  large  for 
Siberia,  but  which  is  nevertheless  seven  times 
the  size  of  France.  It  may  not  be  generally 
known,  by  the  way,  that  Siberia  in  its 
entirety  is  exactly  sixty- six  times  the  size 
of  England.  Yakutsk  was  once  a  city  of 
importance,  but  it  has  now  dwindled  away 
into  an  obscure  provincial  town.  When  the 
railway  from  I'Vance  to  America  is  com- 
pleted, which  it  will  certainly  be  in  the  not 
very  far  distant  future,  Yakutsk  will  no  doubt 
recover  her  former  greatness,  for  the  country 
around  is  rich  not  only  in  gold,  but  in  silver, 
antimony,  lead,  coal,  and  other  valuable  pro- 
ducts. It  seems  almost  incredible  that  agricul- 
ture should  be  carried  on  with  the  utmost 
success  in  such  a  northern  latitude,  and  yet 
only  last  year  many  thousand  tons  of  grain 
were  exported  from  this  district  up  river  to  the 
southern  Siberian  market.  In  summer-time 
there  is  frequent  steam  communication  by  river 
with  Irkutsk  and  down  the  river  to  Bulun,  near 
the  Lena  Delta,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  which 
poor  De  Long  and  his  companions  perished  so 
miserably  after  the  disaster  to  the  Arctic  steamer 
Jeanette. 

l"he  population  of  Yakutsk  consists  chiefly  of 
native  Yakutes,  Russian  ofificials,  and  a  few 
merchants  and  political  exiles.  The  latter 
appeared  to  me  to  live  quite  as  comfortable 
and  easy  a  life  as  their  guards.  On  more  than 
one  occasion  I  met  them  at  the  table  of  my 
host,  the  chief 
of  the  police, 
who  appeared  to 
regard  them 
more  as  friends 
than  as  suspects. 
This,  I  should 
add,  was  in  Ya- 
kutsk alone,  for 
the  political 
exile  settlements 
which  I  after 
wards  visited 
within  the  Arctic 
circle  can  only 
be  described  as 
hells  upon  earth. 
They  will  be 
fully  described  in 
a  special  article 
in  Tin;  Sikami 
M.\c;a/ink. 

Yakutsk, 
oddly  enough,  is 
not  unhealthy,        i.,o,na\ 


although  the  thermometer  irequcntly  falls  to 
7odeg.  below  zero,  and  the  summer  heat  is  that 
of  Calcutta.  Winter  lasts  from  October  till 
May,  and  during  the  springtime  the  place  is 
unapproachable,  the  country  around  being 
flooded  for  many  hundreds  of  miles.  With  the 
fall  of  the  waters  come  stifling  heat,  blinding 
dust,  and  swarms  of  mosquitoes.  Winter  is 
therefore  welcomed,  notwithstanding  the  intense 
cold,  which  is  so  severe  that  during  my  stay 
here  the  body  of  a  young  Russian  girl  was 
e.xhumed,  for  legal  purposes,  after  it  had  lain 
for  over  a  year  in  the  grave,  and  was  found  to 
be  in  a  perfect  state  of  preservation. 

The  native  Yakutes  are  not  a  prepossessing 
race,  especially  the  lower  orders,  who  are 
nearly  as  repulsive  in  manners  and  appearance 
as  the  Tchuktchis  of  Behring  Straits.  The 
Yakutes  are  called  the  Jews  of  the  North. 
Many  grow  very  rich  in  the  fur  and  ivory 
trade,  and  delight  to  display  their  wealth  by 
entertaining  the  passing  stranger  in  lavish  style. 
Their  language  is  evidently  of  Tartar  origin,  and 
I  was  surprised  to  find  my  limited  stock  of 
Turkish  words  go  farther  than  Russian  in  the 
streets  and  markets  of  this  remote  Siberian  city. 
A  stroll  through  the  markets,  by  the  way,  was  a 
revelation  for  a  place  almost  within  the  Arctic 
circle,  for  cucumber,  cauliflower,  beetroot,  and 
potatoes  are  all  on  sale  at  various  seasons  of  the 
year,  and  are  all  grown  on  the  outskirts  of 
Yakutsk.  The  breeding  of  horses  and  cattle  is 
also  annually  increasing.  Only  last  year  over  a 
million    roubles'    worth    of    frozen     meat     was 


\    VAKUrii    MESSENGKR   SENT  OUT    FKOM    YAKUTSK    Ti.    MEtT   THE   fAKlV. 


\rhcto. 


176 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


exported  to  various  settlements  down  river. 
Oddly  enough,  agriculture  and  cattle-raising 
were  first  instituted  here  by  the  Skoptsi,  a 
religious  sect  exiled  from  Russia  some  forty 
years  ago.  Twenty  years  back  there  was  not  a 
seed  of  grain  or  a  vegetable  in  the  place. 

Social  life  in  Yakutsk  is  not  alluring.  There 
is  literally  nothing  to  do  either  during  the  hot, 
garish  summer  or  throughout  the  cold,  dark 
winter  months.  The  mode  of  life  is  strange. 
Breakfast,  at  nine  o'clock,  consists  of  such  dainties 
as  bread,  smoked  fish,  and  cheese.  This  is 
followed  at  midday  by  a  heavier  meal,  where 
wines  and  fiery  vodka  play  an  important  part. 
At  .^  p.m.  a  heavy  dinner  of  five  courses,  accom- 
panied l>y  champagnes  and  other  wines,  is 
discussed,  and  at  8  p.m.  tea  and  cakes  are 
yet  again  partaken  of.  But  the  principal  meal 
of  the  day  (and  the  most  substantial)  is  eaten  at 
midnight,  and  often  lasts  far  into  the  small 
hours.  No  one  in  the  place  ever  dreamt  of 
going  to  bed  until  four  or  five  in  the  morning, 
although  a  siesta  was  generally  indulged  in 
durin^  the  afternoon.  A  stay  of  ten  days  at 
Yakutsk  convinced  me  of  the  wisdom  of  this 
arrangement.     Most  of  the  men  here  spend  their 


From  a\      A  VAKUTit  "  smaman  "  on  mkdicinf.-man.     [Photo. 


THE  COSSACK  STEPAN  RASTORGUYEFF,  WHO  WAS  SPECIALLY 
nETAILED    BY    THE     RUSSIAN     GOVERNMENT     TO     ACCOMPANY    THE 

From  a]  expedition.  [Photo. 

plentiful  spare  time  in  playing  cards,  but  the 
women  appeared  to  have  literally  nothing  to  do 
in  a  place  where  existence  must  he  maddeningly 
monotonous  even  for  the  natives  themselves. 

Yakutsk  has  a  fine  museum  under  the  care  ot 
a  political  exile,  with  whom  I  spent  many 
pleasant  hours.  The  collection  contained,  among 
other  interesting  relics,  a  costume  of  a  Shaman 
or  High  Priest  of  the  strange, mysterious  religion 
which  has  still  many  votaries  in  this  part 
of  the  world,  although  the  Russian  (iovern- 
nient  has  done  its  best  to  stamp  out  the 
(reed  by  ini[)risonment  and  other  forms  of 
I)unishment.  Most  of  the  Shamans  are  women 
subject  to  epileptic  fits,  and  it  is  during  these 
seizures  tliat  they  claim  to  have  intercourse 
with  the  spirit  world.  Mr.  Olenin,  the  exile  in 
charge  of  the  museum,  informed  me  that  the 
Yakutsk  language  is  not  particularly  extensive, 
possessing  only  some  forty  thousand  words.  The 
museum  was  also  rich  in  furs  of  various  kinds, 
especially  sables,  for  the  finest  in  the  world  are 
found  in  the  Vitimsk  district,  about  four 
hundred  miles  up  the  River  Lena.  The  Vitimsk 
sables  are  superior  even  to  those  of  Kamtchalka. 

It  was  at  Yakutsk  that  an   addition  was  made 


PARTS    TO    \E\V    YORK    OVKRT.AXD. 


'77 


KKAUV    FOR   THE    START — A    I'HOTOGKAl'H    OK    THE   EXI'KOn  ION    TAKEN    AT   A    WAYSIUE    POST-HOUSE. 


to  our  party  by  one  Stepan  Rastorguyeff,  who 
was  detailed  by  the  Governor  of  Yakutsk  to 
accompany  us  as  far  as  the  shores  of  the  Arctic 
Ocean,  and  farther  if  necessary.  This  precau- 
tion was  taken  on  account  of  the  hostile  char- 
acter ascribed  to  the  native  Tchuktchis  living 
near  the  Kolyma  River,  on  the  northern  coast 
of  Siberia.  But  my  expedition  was  so  well  armed 
that  I  had  little  fear  on  this  score.  Stepan's 
ordinary  duty  was  to  convey  political  prisoners 
to  the  settlement  of  Sredni-Kolymsk  from  the 
Russian  frontier  (a  seven  months'  journey),  but 
he  had  already  gained  considerable  experience 
as  an  explorer,  having  accompanied  Baron 
'I'oll's  expedition  to  the  New  Siberian  Islands 
in  1900.  \Ye  were,  therefore,  glad  of  the 
Cos.sack's  company,  and  he  eventually  proved 
an  invaluable  addition  to  our  party. 

It  was  not  witliout  serious  opposition  on  the 
part  of  the  authorities  that  we  were  enabled 
to  leave  \'akutsk  for  the  North  ;  and,  indeed, 
the  outlook  seemed  black  enough,  for  reindeer 
— our  only  means  of  transport- -were  at  this 
season  both  scarce  and  weakly.  Moreover,  a 
famine  had  broken  out  in  the  districts  on  the 
Kolyma  River,  and  it  was  more  than  likely  tliat 
we  should  fail  to  find  dogs  there,  to  continue 

our  eastward  way  to  Behring   Straits.     A  con- 
Voi.  X.— 23. 


tagious  disease  resembling  small-pox  was  also 
said  to  be  raging  amongst  the  Tchuktchis  on 
the  Arctic  coast,  and  many  were  said  to  have 
fled  into  the  interior  in  consequence.  A  lack 
of  natives,  and  therefore  provisions,  would  neces- 
sarily mean  starvation  on  this  inhospitable  coast, 
where  even  driftwood  is  often  unattainable. 
The  Governor  urged  that  with  weak  reindeer 
we  could  scarcely  hope  to  reach  the  Arctic 
under  two  months,  or  perhaps  three  ;  in  the 
latter  case  we  should  be  unable  either  to  j)roceed 
or  retreat,  for  during  the  spring  and  summer 
Sredni-Kolymsk  is  rendered  unapproachable  by 
the  vast  swamps,  hundreds  of  miles  in  extent, 
by  which  the  place  is  surrounded.  Under  any 
circumstances  there  is  only  communication  once 
a  year  between  this  dismal  settlement  and  the 
outer  world.  Nevertheless,  I  resolved  to  push 
on  and  trust  to  luck,  although  the  outlook 
seemed  gloomy  enough,  and  I  could  scarcely 
disagree  with  Harding  when  he  remarked  that 
"  the  devil  must  have  taken  the  tii  kets  when 
we  set  out  on  this  job  !  " 

Many  preparations  were  necessary  before 
setting  out  from  \'akutsk  for  the  North.  Heavy 
furs,  provisions  of  all  kinds,  milk  frozen  in  cubes 
and  carried  in  nets,  had  all  to  be  purchased, 
and  also,  oddly  enough,  horse-shoes,  which  were 


178 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    .MACiAZINE. 


destined  to  enable  us  to  secure  firm  foothold 
over  the  precipitous,  ice-clad  Verkoyansk  range. 
To  reach  Verkoyansk  we  must  travel  six  hundred 
miles  through  dense  forests,  where  the  road  is 
only  indicated  by  blazed  tree-trunks.  On  this 
portion  of  the  road  the  post-houses  are  from 
eighty  to  a  hundred  miles  apart.  Beyond 
Verkoyansk  a  limitless  plateau  of  ice  and  snow 
stretches  away  up  to  the  bleak  Arctic  coast, 
fourteen  hundred  miles  away.  Here  the  settle- 
ments are  two  hundred  miles  apart,  and 
we  were  fated  to  experience  for  the  first  time 
the  pangs  of  starvation.  It  is,  perhaps,  as  well 
that  I  did  not  then  know  of  the  perils  and 
privations   awaiting    us   upon   this  lonely   road. 


a  crowd  had  assembled  to  witness  our  departure, 
but  although  we  received  from  all  sides  good 
wishes  for  our  success,  the  majority  of  our 
Siberian  friends  evidently  regarded  us  more  in 
the  light  of  amiable  lunatics  than  as  pioneers 
of  a  great  railway  which  may  one  day  girdle 
the  globe.  Just  previous  to  our  departure  a 
picturesque  but  somewhat  trying  ceremony  was 
gone  through,  and,  although  we  had  already  put 
on  our  cumbersome  clothing  and  furs  (which 
rendered  walking  almost  an  impossibility),  we 
were  recalled  by  our  hostess  from  the  bitter 
night  air  into  the  drawing-room,  where  the 
atmosphere  resembled  that  of  a  hothouse. 
"  You    must   not  take   your   furs  off,"  said  our 


A    FISHING-STATION    ON    LAKE    UAIKAl.. 


\  Photo 


where  we  travelled  for  nearly  five  weeks  without 
seeing  a  sign  of  life  except  in  the  post-houses. 
And  these  were  so  filthy,  and  the  habits  of  their 
inmates  so  uns|)eakably  disgusting,  that  we  were 
often  forced  to  forsake  the  fireside  and  leave 
the  warmth  of  the  hut  for  the  ferocious  cold 
outside. 

On  the  night  of  the  2.3rd  of  February  we 
l<.'ft  V^ikulsk  in  four  reindeer-sledges  for  the 
unknown.     'I'li.-  night  was  fine  and  starlit    and 


host;  "remain  as  you  are."  And  so  we  returned 
to  the  brightly-lit  apartment,  where  nianv  guests 
had  assembled.  Then,  with  uncovered  heads, 
they  turned  toward  the  sacred  ikon  and  knelt 
and  prayed  for  our  safety  and  success.  An  hour 
later  the  lights  of  Yakutsk  were  low  on  the 
horizon,  and  we  had  bidden  a  final  farewell  to 
a  civilization  which  was  only  regained  six  long 
months  later  at  the  gold-mining  city  of  Nome, 
in  Alaska. 


(To  be  continued.) 


The    authoress    writes:     "People     in    this    country   have    the    haziest    possible    notion    of    the    entire 

seclusion    of     convent    life    abroad    under    a    strict     Order.      The    adventures    herein    related    are    the 

natural  sequence  of  such  a  life,  and  could  happen  only    to  natures  so  simple  and  artless." 


WAS  educated  with  my  sisters  in  a 
Belgian  convent,  where  we  led  lives 
so  peaceful,  so  uneventful,  so  com- 
pletely secluded  from  the  outer 
world  that  when,  one  hot  June  day, 
our  fat  little  Reverend  Mother  announced  to 
the  forty-five  pupils  at  their  desks  that  the 
following  morning  we  were  all  to  be  taken  to 
spend  the  day  in  the  beautiful  Forest  de  Ghlin, 
five  miles  away,  I  certainly  felt  as  if  I  should  go 
mad  with  joy. 

Six  of  the  forty-five  pupils  at  the  convent 
school  were  English.  They  consisted  of  myself, 
three  sisters,  and  two  others,  and  we  six  com- 
pletely led  that  simple  convent  and  its  nuns  by 
the  nose.  Short  of  allowing  us  outside  its  great 
double  iron-bound,  spring  fastening  gates,  they 
let  us  do  very  much  as  we  pleased  inside. 

We  got  up  theatricals,  writing  the  plays  our- 
selves, and  a  marvellous  mixture  they  were  of 
love  scenes,  tragedy,  comedy,  religion,  and  step- 
dances.  The  nuns  considered  them  master- 
pieces, and  their  deep  respect  for  ks  Anglaises 
increased  at  each  fresh  performance.  AVe  taught 
the  nuns  to  act,  to  dance,  to  skip,  to  recite  ; 
and  they  took  it  for  granted  we  knew  all  about 
each  art.  Compared  to  their  somewhat  slow- 
witted  and  ponderous  Ik'lgian  pupils,  we 
appeared  as  beings  of  brilliant  genius  and 
fascination.  We  gave  our  opinions  on  religion, 
law,  politics,  and  matrimony  (knowing  notiiing 
of  any  of  them)  ;  told  marvellous  stories  of  the 


outside  world  (containing  not  a  word  of  truth) ; 
and  announced  ourselves  as  closely  related  to  the 
English  Royal  Family,  and  were  believed.  In 
fact,  there  is  no  telling  ivliat  we  should  have 
done  had  it  not  been  for  that  day's  outing  in 
the  Bois  de  Ghlin. 

"  The  mischievous  cabbages  I  '  said  the 
Reverend  Mother,  when  informed  that  even- 
ing that  "  Ay-deet "  (thus  was  my  Saxon  name 
of  Edith  murdered  by  the  nuns)  had  thrown 
all  the  lesson-books,  pens,  and  ink  out  of  the 
window,  and  with  one  wild  yell  had  bounded 
after  them  into  the  garden,  shouting  to  the 
breathless  girls  seated  at  their  desks  to  follow; 
and  that  Mere  Marie  -  Christine  had  chased 
"  Ay-deet "  and  the  rest  round  the  garden 
until  she  drop[)ed  into  a  faint  with  the  iieat. 

The  Reverend  Mother  said  the  "  cabbages  " 
were,  of  course,  folk  at  the  idea  of  seeing  the 
outside  world  on  the  morrow  after  three  years 
of  seclusion,  and  excuses  must  be  made  for 
them.  One  must  not  judge  one  nation  by 
another,  she  said.  "  Ay-deet "  would  be  con- 
sidered a  lunatic  if  she  were  a  Belgian,  and  her 
sisters  Mildred  and  I-;dla  wouUl  have  been 
hanged  long  ago  for  putting  gunpowder  under 
the  lay  sister's  bed  and  then  setting  fire  to  it. 
But  the  worthy  Reverend  Mother  understood 
from  the  Reverend  Father,  her  confessor,  that 
these  were  typical  English  ways  and  must  be 
winked  at. 

"  <<>■■  "^aid   the    Reven-nd  Mother  to  a  com- 


i8o 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


|)laining  nun,  "  say  nothing.     Young  blood  will 
boil.     To-morrow's  outing  will  cool  it." 

It  did.     And  it  also  cooled  the  nuns— to  their 
very  marrows  ! 


The  day  dawned  blue  and  cloudlecs. 
What   joy,   what    rapture    filled  our  youthful 
hearts  as  we  all  filed  two  and  two  out  of  the 
convent  gates  and  beheld  the  outside  world  for 

the    first     time     for 
three  years  ! 

Even  the  narrow, 
pebbly  street  into 
which  the  portal 
opened  appeared   as 


•'^■^'^ 


n 


if". 


I'  U, 


»^*».-*^i 


"  UK   APrARBNTI.V    FKI.L    IN    LOVK   WITH    EACH    ONE." 


I  leaven  to  us.  The  sky  surely  was  bluer  out  here 
than  over  tiie  convent  garden,  and  the  sparrows 
on  the  housetops  seemed  to  twitter  more  sweetly 
than  in  the  leafy,  bosky  shades  of  our  home. 
I  low  pleasant,  loo,  were  the  strange  faces  at  the 
little  shop  dof)rs  and  hurrying  past  us  on  the 
pavements'  IIdsv  on  earth  could  the  nuns 
voluntarily  rfn(junce  such  a  world  as  this, 
ihought  we  girls. 

Presently  there   came   along   a  young   man. 
Yes,    a    real    young    man,    with     legs     and    a 


moustache,  two  items  one  had  almost  forgotten 
the  look  of  inside  the  walls  of  the  Sacre  Cceur, 
where,  if  a  man  was  seen  at  all,  he  was  in  a 
robe  and  clean-shaven.  A  thrill  wenc  through 
all  the  forty-five  girls.  Which  one  of  us  would 
he  fall  in  love  with  ? 

He  passed.  He  apparently  fell  in  love  with 
each  one  of  the  forty-five  maidens  in  black  silk 
uniform  dresses  and  white  chip  bonnets  demurely 
tied  under  their  chins  with  black  ribbon,  for  he 
peered  under  each  bonnet  as  he  passed  and 
smiled  into  each  rosy  face. 

The  procession  passed  on  through  the  city, 

and  was  soon  on  the  dusty,  white  country  road, 

bounded  far  away  by  the  great  cool,  dark  green 

Forest  of  Ghlm,  which  stretches 

away  north  to  fair  Ardennes. 

We  spent  a  glorious  day  in 
the  Forest  of  Ghlin. 

We  climbed  the  trees,  we 
tore  our  clothes,  we  yelled,  and 
we  shouted.  We 
got  lost  and  found 
each  other  again. 
We  met  two  rob- 
bers, and  were  not 
at  all  astonished, 
for  naturally  a 
forest  would  not  be 
a  proper  forest  with- 
out robbers.  ^Ve 
ran  away  from 
them,  and  certainly 
had  a  hairbreadth 
escape. 

We  came  upon 
a  railway  line  in 
the  heart  of  the 
forest,  and  got  into 
trees  to  watch  a 
long  train  thunder 
by.  What  a  lovely 
thing  a  train  in  a 
forest  was !  And 
when  we  showered 
acorns  down  on  the 
carriage  roofs  the 
people  thrust  their 
heads   out,    thinking   it    hailed. 

Kate  and  I  had  another  of  our  numerous 
wagers.  This  time  it  was  that  I  would  not  lie 
on  the  railway  line  as  a  train  approached.  Of 
course,  I  won. 

Mother  and  father,  far  away  in  burning  India, 
what  would  you  have  thought  could  you  have 
beheld  your  little  niadc:a[)  daughter  of  fifteen 
lying  with  her  head  on  one  rail,  her  feet  on  the 
other,  and  an  express  approaching  ? 

A/tre   Marie- Christine,    the    nun    who   took 


SIX   i.rni.ic   MAIDS   from  schooi.. 


iSi 


charge  wIkh  the  Reverend 
Mother  was  not  present,  had 
been  provided  wilh  a  [tolicciiiaii's 
wliislle  ol  tar-rcacliinL;  powers 
before  starting  for  the  expedition. 
It  was  an  understood  thing  tliat 
when  she  blew  on  it  we  were  to 
assemble,  and  that  none  of  us 
were  to  wander  beyond  reach  of 
its  call. 

J/i/r  Marie-Christine  was  of 
an  extremely  nervous  disposition, 
and  she  kept  blowing  that  whistle 
all  day  every  time  something 
frightened  her  or  her  sister  nuns, 
which  was  often.  We  ought  to 
have  made  every  excuse  for  Afh'' 
Marie-Christine,  for  naturally  the 
open  world  was  full  of  terrors 
and  sur[)rises  for  her  and  for  the 
other  six  meek  and  holy  ladies 
who  had  been  bidden  to  join  in 
the  expedition  ;  and  it  was  not 
to  be  wondered  at  that  when  they 
saw  two  robbers — they  felt  sure 
they  were  robbers — approaching 
down  a  glade  (eating  bread  and 
cheese  with  an  appearance  of 
innocence  which  only  terrified 
them  the  more)  A/ere  Marie- 
Christine  whistled  frantically 
until  she  once  more  fainted  (faint- 
ing was  her  speciality).  More- 
over, when  one  of  the  "  robbers  " 
stopped  to  ask  Mh-e  Clotilde  the 
time — a  mere  blind,  of  course — 
Mere  Clotilde  nobly  gave  him  a 
crack  over  the  head  with  her  umbrella,  causing 
him  and  his  companion  to  flee  in  terror.  And 
to  this  day  the  tale  of  how  A/ere  Clotilde  saved 
the  lives  of  seven  nuns  is  told  with  hushed 
accents  in  the  Convent  of  the  Sacre  Coeur. 

Each  time  the  whistle  blew  girls  came  scramb 
ling  through  the  forest  from  all  sides ;  but  at 
last  the  summons  became  wearisome,  the  cause 
always  being  something  quite  inadecjuate. 

A  poor,  hungry,  harmless  yellow  dog  wandering 
in  the  forest  was  mistaken  for  a  wolf,  and  the 
whistling  became  frantic.  A/t're  Marie-Christine 
had  to  count  us  first  forwards  and  then  back- 
wards three  times  before  she  would  believe  that 
some  of  us  had  not  been  devoured  by  the 
brute.  A  bending  of  the  trees  to  a  strong 
breeze  was  thought  to  be  an  approaching  earth- 
quake, and  we  were  again  summoned  ;  and 
every  male  being  met  in  the  forest  that  day 
struck  terror  to  the  heart  of  the  seven  nuns,  so 
little  used  were  they  to  the  world  and  its  strange 
sights  and  sounds  ! 


first    six 
English 


m6re  clotilde  mouly  gave  him  a  crack 
over  the  head  with  her  fmukella." 


After  the 
whistles  we 
girls  refused  to  take  any 
notice.  Towards  3  p.m. 
the  earth  shook,  and  a  shriek- 
ing, roaring  monster  was  heard 
thundering  through  the  quiet 
shades  a  mile  away.  It  was  an 
express  train,  of  course.  Sup- 
pose it  went  off  the  rails  and  tore  through 
the  forest,  flattening  trees,  nuns,  and  pupils  in 
the  ruthless  manner  common  to  express  trains  ? 
(Or  so  whispered  rumour !)  The  seven  little 
nuns  flew  together  in  a  frightened  bunch,  J/«V<r 
Marie- Christine  blew  out  her  checks  on  the 
whistle  till  she  looked  like  a  cherub  about  to 
have  an  apoplectic  fit,  and  the  girls  were  once 
more  frantically  assembled  and  counted. 
When  not  one  of  the  six  Afix/niscs  turned  up  it 
became  a  certainty  that  the  train  had  made  a 
detour  through  the  forest,  had  churned  u[)  the 
Anglaises,  and  gone  on  ;  it  being  a  well  known 
fact  to  the  nuns  that  anything  more  selfish  than 
an  express  train,  its  dri\er  and  passengers,  it 
would  be  hard  to  find  in  the  whole  of  the  great 
wicked  world  in  which  these  gentle  cloistered 
souls  now  founii  themselves  trem filing  ! 

I  don't  think  Merc  Marie-Christine  could  ever 
have  had  a  more  unhappy  day  in  her  quiet   lile 
than  that  one  of  terrors  in  the  Hois  de  Ghlin. 
When,  at  sunset,  we  finally  put  in  an  api^ear- 


l82 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


ance,  each  of  the  seven  nuns  was  exhausted 
with  the  amount  of  screaming,  fainting,  whist- 
ling, and  running  away  she  had  been  driven 
to ;  one  or  two  of  them  iiad  wept  copiously  at 
our  untimely  end,  and  their  child-like  joy  at 
beholding  us  safe  and  sound  was,  to  us,  both 
touching  and  gratifying. 

We  were  now  once  more  marshalled  into  the 
two-and-two  order,  and,  as  we  threw  lingering 
glances  back  at  the  enchanted  glades  where  this 
thrice  glorious  day  had  been  spent,  the  party 
prepared  to  return  to  the  convent. 

It  was  a  long  walk,  and  the  heat  was  still 
intense.  Out  on  ih_-  long,  white,  dusty  roads  it 
was  almost  unbearable,  and  after  all  they  had 
gone  through  the  seven  nuns  considered  it 
would  not  be  unduly  indulging  the  flesh  to  stop 
at  a  pretty  little  cabaret  standing  in  a  cool 
green  garden  with  little  seats  under  the  trees,  a 
deep,  broad  stream  murmuring  hard  by,  and  a 
bare-armed  fillette  to  serve  our  parched  mouths 
with  curds  and  whey  at  five  centimes  a  head. 

Behold  the  cloister  picnic  party  now,  seated 
about  under  the  shade  of  the  boughs,  devouring 
curds  sprinkled  with  cinnamon  and  sugar — a 
meal  fit  for  the  gods  !  The  nuns  sat  about 
amongst  us  and,  having  refreshed  exhausted 
Nature,  rested  themselves,  telling  their  beads 
with  half-closed  eyes,  while  all  round  hummed 
bees,  and  the  river  across  the  white  road  rippled 
by  with  a  lovely  cool  sound. 

I  sat  fanning  myself,  my  countenance  scarlet, 
and  my  tangled  hair  (full  of  burrs  from  out  of 
the  forest,  and  bits  of  dead  leaf  and  twig) 
escaping  from  under  my  white  chip  bonnet. 
Oh,  dear,  I  thought,  how  lovely  it  would  be  to 
plunge  mto  that  running  water  outside  and 
have  a  bathe  ! 

I  got  up  and  wandered  across  the  road, 
followed  by  my  sisters  and  the  other  Anolaises, 
and  all  six  of  us  stood  on  the  banks,  gazing  at 
the  clear,  tepid  water,  which  would  about  reach 
our  waists,  certainly  not  more. 

I  felt  sad. 

Our  happy  day  was  over.  It  might  be  years 
ere  the  convent  would  be  allowed  another  like 
it,  and  by  that  time  we  girls  should  have  left. 
We  should  be  grcnvn  up  and  out  in  India,  in 
society,  obliged  to  behave  ourselves  with 
decorum  — with  a  view  to  matrimony  and  other 
social  obligations.  It  was  a  desperate  thought— 
and  it  made  me  feel  sudficnly  desperate.  This 
eventful  day  must  not  end  lamely.  Something 
must  be  done  to  red-letter  it  for  ever  in  the 
uneventful  archives  of  the  convent. 

How  cool,  how  sweet,  the  water  looked  ! 
Only  up  to  our  waists  !  Our  black  silk  dresses 
would  be  spoilt,  and,  of  course,  dire  punishment 
wt.ut.l  .Msue.     Hoiher  that ! 


Seizing  the  hand  of  the  girl  on  either  side  of 
me,  1  leapt  forward  into  the  stream,  dragging 
them  with  me.  With  a  mighty  splash  we  went 
in,  the  three  of  us,  face  foremost,  to  promptly 
discover  that  the  bottom  was  deep,  deep  mud,  into 
which  we  sank  farther  with  each  fresh  plunge. 

\\'ell,  we  were  in  for  it  now,  and  so,  half 
laughing,  half  spluttering,  and  exclaiming,  I 
leant  forward,  wading  to  the  bank,  and,  grasping 
the  skirts  or  ankles  of  the  other  girls,  dragged 
them  in  too.  My  sisters  Kate  and  Lalla  did 
likewise  to  various  girls  who  had  wandered  to 
the  river. 

The  girls  laughed,  and  shrieked,  and  struggled, 
and  fell  flop  in — one  after  the  other.  The  con- 
tagion spread ;  the  excitement  went  to  their 
heads  like  wine  ;  and  instead  of  running  away 
the  whole  lot  presently  crowded  on  to  the  banks, 
and  those  whom  we  did  not  drag  in  jumped  in, 
meaning  (with  true  Continental  charity)  to  say 
afterwards  that  the  Ani^/aiscs  had  pulled  them  in 
by  force !  It  was  glorious  fun  to  see  the 
entire  convent  floundering  in  the  water,  and 
when  the  seven  nuns  rushed  shrieking  out  of 
the  cabaret  garden — for  all  sense  of  order  and 
disci[)line  was  gone  now — it  was  a  very  easy 
matter  to  grasp  their  flapping  skirts  and  drag 
them  m  too.  Such  a  scene  of  mad  frolic  you 
never  saw. 

Out  of  the  cabaret,  alarmed  by  the  noise,  tore 
the  owner,  a  sturdy  individual  in  a  blue  blouse 
and  belt.  I  put  out  my  hand  piteously  to  him 
for  help  ;  he  took  it  confidingly,  and  I  soon  got 
him  in  head  foremost  as  well. 

Now  we  all  started  throwing  the  water  over 
each  other  with  yells  and  shrieks  of  delight. 
Everyone  seemed  to  have  completely  lost  her 
head.  The  cabaret  man  struggled  convulsively, 
hanging  on  to  poor  Allre  Marie-Christine  as  to 
a  sort  of  religious  lifebuoy. 

Mere  Marie-Christine  distractedly  bashed  him 
over  the  head  with  her  umbrella,  stirring  the 
now  muddy  waters  into  foam.  Meanwhile  she 
called  upon  all  the  saints  in  the  calendar  to 
deliver  her.  Another  little  nun,  certain  she 
was  drowning,  stood  up  to  her  neck  saying  Ave 
Marias  in  rapid  succession.  Needless  to  say, 
this  most  ludicrous  scene  did  not  last  long. 
The  entire  jjopulation  of  the  village  turned  out 
on  to  the  i)anks  with  poles  and  ropes,  intent 
upon  rescue.  Never  had  such  a  sight  been 
seen  before  in  their  memory,  and  never  will  be 
again,  I  am  certain. 

An  hour  later  a  strange  procession  wended 
its  way  through  the  city  to  the  hill  whereon  our 
convent  stood.  I  shall  never  forget  the  dis- 
comforts of  that  long  walk  in  our  sopping,  mud- 
beladen  garments. 

The  mud  was  a  ri(  h,  thick  slime,  which  stuck 


SIX    LITTLK     MAIDS    TKOM    SCFIOOL. 


■S3 


EVERVONF.  SEEMED    TO    HAVE   COM  PLF,  IKl.Y    LOST    HER    HEAD 


to  US,  covering  us  as  if  with  black  paste,  greatly 
impeding  our  progress,  and  the  noise  our  fifty- 
two  dresses  made  as  we  walked,  caked  with 
this  stuff,  could  be  heard  a  long  way  off. 

We  were  followed,  it  is  needless  to  say,  by  an 
ever-increasing  crowd  of  gamins,  ge?idar/?ies, 
loafers,  and  spectators  of  every  age  and  sex. 

The  smell  of  the  mud  alone  was  unique. 

Most  of  us,  in  order  to  move  at  all,  had  to 
gather  up  our  skirts  higher  than  convent 
decorum  permitted,  the  result  being  an  avenue 
of  a  hundred  and  four  legs,  like  forest  sapHngs, 
walking  two  and  two,  and  streaming  with  oozy 
slime,  which  left  a  distinct  track  behind  us. 
The  day  had  certainly  ended  with  aiaf,  and 
even  I  was  satisfied. 

A  week  in  bed  followed  for  everyone,  without 
exception.  Some  were  there  detained  by 
rheumatic  pains,  colds  in  their  heads,  and 
toothache.  Those  who  had  escaped  these  ills 
were  made  to  feel  the  inevitable  consequences 
of  sin  by  complete  seclusion  and  silence,  on  a 
bread  and  water  diet,  until  their  clothes  had 
been  cleaned  and  dried  on  the  cloister  hearth. 


which  took  over  a  week.  At  the  end  of  that 
week  I  was  so  contrite  and  depressed  that  I 
announced  I  intended  taking  the  veil. 

This  declaration  had  up  till  now  always  ab- 
solved me  at  once.  But  now  1  found  myself 
eyed  with  cold  suspicion. 

It  was,  I  was  privately  informed,  the  opinion 
of  the  Reverend  Mother  and  Fhe  la  Chaise 
that  I  was  possessed  of  a  demon.  The  demon 
had,  at  times,  taken  an  attractive  form,  pretended 
penitence,  learnt  its  lessons  properly,  and  gone 
without  sugar  in  its  coffee  to  punish  itself.  All 
this  deception  the  demon  had  once  practised 
with  complete  success  on  the  confiding  nuns. 
But  its  day  was  over!  The  Reverend  Mi'h- -^ 
did  not  cease  to  love  her  ICnglish  "cabb.i^  . 
but  she  never  quite  believed  in  them  again  ;  and 
letters  from  the  convent  tell  me  that  even 
now,  on  warm  June  days  in  the  sleepy  convent 
garden,  Mere  Marie-Christine  relates  to  new- 
comers the  oft-told  yet  ever-thrilling  tale  of  the 
school  which  went  for  a  picnic  and  the  river 
which  nearly  drowned  them— all  through  six 
naughty  little  Knglish  maids. 


A^LlilNcToifFi 


Miss    Stewart    spent    a    recent    furlough    in   an    unconventional   manner    by    making    an    extended 

walking  tour  into  the  interior  of  delightful    Kashmir.     On  some  of  the  trips   she   took  coolies   and 

tents,  while  for  others    she    made    a    native  "  dunga,"  or    mat-boat,  her   head-quarters.      She    took 

many  interesting    photographs,  which  are  reproduced  with  the  article. 


r  was  a  deli- 
ciously  crisp 
morning  that 
clef  i  n  i  t  ely 
decided  me 
to  put  into  action  the 
idea  that  had  been  some 
lime  dormant  in  my 
mind  of  taking  a  walking 
tour  in  the  interior  of 
Kashmir. 

During  the  warm,  la/.y 
month  of  September  I 
had  enjoyed  to  the  full 
an  ideal  houseboat  exist- 
ence at  Srinagar,  watch 
ing  the  busy  life  of  the 
river  with  its  cheery 
traders  paddling  up  and 
down,  displaying  their 
lovely  specimens  (jf 
Kashmiri  arts  and  in 
dustries,  hailing  one  with 
the  familiar  and  insidious 
appeal,  "  Not  buy,  "only 
look  !  " 

Short  excursions  to  the 
various  points  of  beauty 
and   interest  wiihin  easy 


MISS   A.    V.    STEWAKT. 

l>'rom  a  Photo,  by  /'.  M.  Divan. 


reach  had  whetted  my 
appetite  for  more,  and  I 
determined  that  the  re- 
maining weeks  of  my 
holiday  should  be  spent 
in  visiting  such  spots  as 
are  accessible  to  pedes- 
trians. I  selected  the 
Tragbal  Pass  as  the  first 
point  of  my  wanderings 
and  Gangabal,  the  sacred 
lake  of  the  Hindus,  as 
the  second. 

My  camp  kit  and  pro- 
visions safely  stowed 
away  in  a  dittiga,  or  native 
mat  -  boat,  we  dropped 
gently  down  stream 
through  the  seven  pic- 
turescjue  wooden  bridges 
of  Srinagar,  tying  up  for 
the  niglit  at  Sumbal. 
The  next  day  we  went 
on  to  the  Wular  Lake, 
wliere  we  spent  the  even- 
ing watching  the  curious 
singhara  or  waternut 
harvest.  Swarms  of  little 
boats  dotted  the  smooth 


A    WALKIXC,    TOUR     IX     KASHMIR. 


,85 


-J..  .    ' 


'^Psv 


^•I 


^ 


surface  of  the  lake,  and  we  pulled 
up  close  to  the  toilers  to  watch  their 
method  of  harvesting. 

The    singhara    plant    covers    the 
surface  of  the  water  for  miles.     The 
small  serrated  leaf  is  supported  on  the  water  by 
a  curious  little  bladder  just  below  the  junction 
of  leaf  and  stem.     The  four-pointed  sheaf  which 
contains  the  nut  is  about  an  inch  and  a  half  in 
length,  and  possesses  the  peculiarity  of  sinking 
as  soon  as  its  contents  are  ripe ;  so  that  its  dis- 
appearance is  the  sign  to  the  native  that  the  crop 
is  ready.     Forthwith   all   the  able-bodied   men 
and  women   in    the  country-side   sally  forth   in 
their  boats  with  nets  and 
rakes.    The  net,  attached 
to  a  long  pole,  is  plunged 
to    the    bottom     by    one 
man  whilst  another  rakes 
in  the  long  stems  with  its 
pendent  nuts.    When  the 
wondrous    glow    of     the 
sunset 'begins  to  illumine 
the    snow  -  peaks,    which 
are  reflected  in  the  placid 
waters  at  their  base,  the 
tired  crews  return  to  their 
villages  to  the    music  of 
their    paddles    and     the 
plaintive   Kashmiri  boat- 
songs,     the     little    craft 
piled  high  with  the  shiny 
black  masses  of  singhara, 
which  will  ensure  plenty 
in  the  cold,  dark  days  of  i-rotn  a  Photo. 

Vol.  X      24. 


NATIVE.S   CAIMIMN 


THE   AUTHORESS    WITH    HER        OUNGA  "   OR    NATIVE 

From  d\  mat-boat.  {Photo 


the  coming  winter.  The  nut  is  sweet,  not  unlike 
our  filbert  in  taste,  and  is  used  in  a  variety  of 
ways  by  the  boat-folk.  It  yields  a  flour  from 
which  a  very  favourite  bread  is  made,  and  by  a 
bountiful  provision  of  Nature,  in  times  of  flood, 
when  the  other  crops  are  ruined,  the  singhara 
harvest  is  always  especially  plentiful. 

Next  morning  we  paddled  across  the  Wular 
Lake  to  Bandipore  the  starting-point  for  (iilgit, 

via  the  Tragbal  Pass. 
My  fir.st  impression  of 
Bandipore  was  a  whirl 
of  baggage,  ponies,  bul- 
Icck-carts,  and  coolies ; 
but  when  I  had  got  used 
to  the  perpetual  stam- 
pede I  sat  at  the  end  of 
my  boat,  whilst  old 
A/iza,  my  head  boatman, 
pointed  out  first  the 
Tragbal,  the  pass  I  was 
to  essay  on  the  morrow, 
and  then,  as  he  saw  my 
eyes  wandering  to  the 
mighty  snow  peaks  in 
front,  he  told  me  they 
were  near  the  giant  Hara- 
mouk,  on  whose  mighty 
slopes  is  Gangabal,  the 
i  c  v    lake    that     the 


IIAKA    KAKVEST. 


i86 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


Kashmiri  Hindu  venerates  as  the  source  of  the 
sacred  Ganges.  Meanwhile  Aziza's  industrious 
wife  spun  busily,  using  a  most  wonderful  and 
gorgeous  wheel  of  many  colours. 

The  following  morning,  leaving  my  servants 
to  wrestle  with  baggage,  ponies,  and  coolies,  I 


embosomed  in  tall  pine  trees,  we  came  upon  the 
log  rest-house.  Here  I  found  to  my  horror 
that  my  camp-bed  had  been  forgotten,  and  I 
had  to  shake  down  for  the  night  on  the  hard 
ground,  with  the  compensation  of  a  roaring 
pine-wood  fire  in  an  enormous  fireplace  built 
for  the  months  when  blinding 
snowstorms  drive  travellers  to  the 
shelter  and  warmth  of  the  hut.  A 
sound  sleep  found  me  ready  in  the 
morning  for  the  five  miles'  ascent 
which  still  lay  between  us  and  the 
top  of  the  pass. 

Taking  a  coolie  with  us  to  point 
out  the  short  cuts,  higher  and  higher 
we  trudged  through  the  dense  pine 
forests  till  we  finally  left  them 
behind  and  came  to  a  region  of 
rock  and  snow.  I  made  snowballs, 
but  having  no  one  to  throw  them 
at  the  amusement  soon  palled,  and 
I  climbed  up  to  the  little 
cairn     on     the    summit     and 


AZIZA,    THE    HKAD   BOATMAN. 

From  a  Photo. 


seized  my  alpenstock,  and  shod  in 
chapp/ies,  the  native  climbing  shoes 
of  the  country,  sallied  forth  with  the 
enthusiasm  proper  to  the  actual  be- 
ginning of  my  enterprise.  Nearly 
four  miles  along  a  lovely  level  road, 
beneath  trees  glorious  in  the  radiant 
gold  and  red  of  later  autumn,  over 
a  foaming  mountain  stream  dashing 
over  its  rocky  bed  to  the  placid  lake 
below,  and  then  at  length  I  began  the 
nine  miles  of  steep  ascent  to  our  first 
halting  place.  There  is  no  rose  with- 
out a  thorn,  and  my  thorn  to-day  was 
the  want  of  breakfast,  which  had  been 
.sent  on  by  the  "  breakfast  coolie," 
but  somehow  seemed  to  have  got 
lost.  Hungry  and  weary  I  trudged  on  until 
within  an  hour  of  the  rest-house  where  we 
were  to  pass  the  niglit,  and  then,  in  the  distance, 
I  espied  the  missing  coolie.  At  the  joyous 
sight  I  sank,  with  a  sigh  of  satisfaction,  into  an 
arm-chair  of  Nature's  furnishing  among  rocks 
and  trees.  The  servants  scolded  the  coolies, 
whr),  in  their  turn,  abused  the  ponies.  Willi 
marvellous  rapidity  wood  was  collected  and 
water  boiled,  and  prcsi-ntly  I  was  feeling  much 
refreshed  and  cheered.  An  hour's  halt  and  we 
were  all  on  the  march  once  more,   till  at  last, 


THIi   HEAD   boatman's   WIFE    USING    HER    Sl'INNING-WHEEL. 

From  a  Photo. 


surveyed  the  wide  spread  of  countries 
around.  ]'"ar  in  the  distance  was  the  mag- 
nificent mountain  Manga  Parbat,  26,629ft.  high. 
To  the  right  lay  Gilgit,  Chitral,  Ladak,  and 
Shardu  ;  to  the  left  the  Lolab  ;  whilst  behind 
and  far  below  the  Wular  Lake  gleamed  soft  in 
the  morning  light. 

The  descent  to  the  rest-house  was  soon 
accomi)lishe<l,  and  after  a  rest  we  followed  the 
coolies  by  a  i)ath  only  possible  for  [)cdt'slrians. 
In  some  places  it  was  simply  a  rough  climb 
from   crag  to  crag— a  veritable   "short  cut" — 


A    WALKIXC.     rOUR     l.\     KASHMIR. 


187 


From  a 


VIEW    FROM    THE   .SUMMIT    OK    IHE    1  kAGUAI.    i'ASS. 


but  it  soon  landed  us  on  the  level  road  to 
Bandipore,  where  I  hailed  my  diinga  and  old 
Aziza,  and,  after  a  bath  and  meal,  put  my 
"  house  "  in  order  and  sat  down  to  write  the 
story  of  my  wanderings  to  the  "  old  folk  at 
home." 

Sumbal  was  to  be  the  starting-point  for  Hara- 
mouk  and  the  sacred  lake  of  Gangabal,  and 
another  paddle  back  across  the  Wular  made  me 
quite  proficient  in  the  art,  so  that  I  felt  I  could  now 
rank  with  the  "crew."  Arrived 
at  Sumbal,  Aziza  sallied  forth  to 
find  the  lambadar  (headman)  of 
the  village,  a  very  indispensable 
person  in  Kashmir,  as  through 
him  alone  is  it  possible  to  secure 
coolies  and  local  supplies,  and 
much  of  one's  comfort  depends 
on  his  capabilities.  The  lam- 
InxdaK  was  a  patriarchal-looking 
old  man  with  a  really  beautiful 
face ;  but  subsequent  events 
proved  that  his  looks  belied  him, 
for  the  coolies  [)romiscd  faithfully 
for  daybreak  came  smiling  and 
dawdling  along  at  8  a.m.,  while 
the  baggage  pony  arrived  witiiout 
a  pack-saddle,  with  the  happy 
result  that  a  hundred  yards  from 
the  start  he  shot  the  baggage 
over  his  ears  to  the  ground  and 
surveyed  the  scene  with  a  satis-       Froma\ 


fied  grin.  My 
Kashmiri  "cook- 
l)earer,"  who  was 
much  depressed 
at  my  walking 
propensities,  felt 
that  the  pony's 
behaviour  was, 
indeed,  the  last 
straw,  and  after 
a  f  e  w  wild 
flourishes  with 
his  stick  he  sank 
down  in  a  de- 
jected heap  and, 
to  my  amaze- 
ment, fairly 
wept  I  How- 
ever, ropes, 
patience,  and 
an  ever-watchful 
eye  on  the  pony 
took  us  on  a 
half-dozen  miles 
farther,  and 
then,  in  utter 
disgust,  we  sent 
back  the  sorry  steed  to  the  perfidious  lavibadar, 
under  the  escort  of  a  small  boy,  and  after  break- 
fast and  a  short  rest  started  afresh  with  a  new 
pony. 

Sixteen  miles  brought  us  at  last,  tired  but 
triumphant,  to  Katri  Mumbal,  the  first  mountain 
village,  where  we  pitched  our  tents  for  the  night 
and  discharged  our  lowland  coolies.  The 
lambadar  made  his  appearance  and  cheered  us 
with  promises  of  plenty  of  firewood,  milk,  eggs, 


A   CURIOUS   BKIUUE  AT  SUMUAU 


[i'hoto. 


t88 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


and,  above  all,  good  coolies.  He  did  not  look 
so  saintly  as  our  old  friend  the  Sumbal  lam- 
badar,  so  I  had  hopes,  which  were  realized,  for, 
as  the  sequel  showed,  he  was  as  good  as  his 
word.  At  daybreak  we  were  called  and,  for- 
tified by  steaming  cups  of  tea,  got  under  way 
as  speedily  as  our  cold  hands  would  let  us,  for 
the  mornings  were  now  sharp  and  cold. 

The  rough,  stony  path  led  along  the  edge  of 
cliffs,  through  miles  of  thick  woods  where  the 
trees  met  overhead,  so  that  we  could  only  hear 
without  seeing  the  torrent  rushing  below. 
(Iradually  the  scenery  became  more  moun- 
tainous, till,  leaving  the  trees  of  the  lower 
slopes  behind,  the  warm  noonday  air  becan)e 
fragrant  with  the  breath  of  mountain  pines. 
Higher  still  we  climbed,  pausing  to  look  down 
on  the  tiny  mountain  villages  nestling  by  grassy 
plateau-meadows.  Now  and  again  we  had  to 
cross  a  mountain  stream,  and  then  a  track 
through  the  forest  brought  us  to  our  camp  for 
the  night  by  the  side  of  the  beautiful  temple  of 
Magha!,  one  of  the  oldest  of  tlie  Kashmiri 
Hindu  temples.  It  is  wonderfully  preserved, 
and  the  roots  of  a  fine  young  pine,  which  has 
planted  itself  on  the  top,  serve  as  bands  to  the 
masonry.     It  is  supposed  that  the  temple  was 


built  as  a  thank-offering  by  pilgrims  who  had 
successfully  accomplished  the  hazardous  ascent 
to  the  sacred  lake  on  the  heights  above. 
My  coolies  hauled  up  the  trunk  of  an  old  tree 
to  which  they  set  fire,  and  after  supper  sat 
round  the  blaze  plaiting  their  straw  shoes  for 
the  next  day's  march,  whilst  they  sang  their 
weird  but  not  unmusical  mountain  songs. 

In  the  morning  our  way  lay  over  the  steep 
heights  overlooking  our  camp,  the  ascent  going 
up  at  once  to  an  elevation  of  i  i,oooft.  over 
ground  slippery  with  pine-needles  and  a  fine, 
loose  gravel,  which  made  it  a  matter  of  difficulty 
to  secure  a  footing.  Now  and  again  I  paused 
for  breath  and  to  admire  the  absolutely  magnifi- 
cent outlook  over  mountain  ranges  and  dense 
forest  which  stretched  beneath  us  on  all  sides. 
Emerging  on  top  of  the  scarp,  we  had  a  short 
respite  for  about  a  mile  over  rolHng,  grassy 
slopes,  and  then  for  two  or  three  miles  it  was  a 
veritable  scramble  over  and  between  big,  craggy 
rocks,  till  beyond  the  snow  patches  we  saw  the 
birch  wood  of  Tronkol  and  the  smooth  descent 
to  the  rough  log  rest-huts  for  "man  and  beast." 

The  flat  top  of  the  hut  made  an  excellent 
pitch  for  my  small  tent,  whilst  servants,  coolies, 
and  pony  sojourned    beneath.     At  this  height 


From  a] 


IHE   .SAtKHIi    l.AKK   OK   GANGADAI.,    WITH    TlIK    MIGIITV    IfCAK    OK    IfAKAMOUk"    llEIIINl). 


\rhoto. 


A    WALKING     rOL'R    IN    KASHMIR. 


the  cold  was  intense,  and  dressing  in  the  eaily 
morning  by  lantern  light  became  a  somewhat 
heroic  process. 

After  breakfast,  five  miles  over  the  hard, 
frost-bound  shoulders  of  the  mountain,  over 
boulders  and  snow,  brought  us  to  our  goal — 
the  mystic  lake  of  Ganga- 
bal,  lying  pure  and  cold  at 
the  feet  of  the  eternal 
snows.  The  mighty  Hara- 
mouk,witii  his  snowy  peaks, 
stands  sentinel  over  the 
serene  surface  of  the  lake, 
and  in  the  clear  atmosphere 
one  seems  almost  near 
enough  to  throw  a  stone  at 
the  mountain  giant,  so 
difficult  is  it  to  realize  the 
distance  that  really  inter- 
venes. It  is  part  of  the 
funeral  rites  of  the  Kash- 
miri Hindu  to  visit  Ganga- 
bal  and  throw  the  ashes  of 
the  dead  relative  into  the 
holy  lake,  and  in  summer 
the  neighbourhood  of  the 
water  is  dotted  with  the 
little  tents  of  the  pilgrims. 

On  the  evening  of  our  return  to  Maghal  I 
found  the  "  mad  woman  "  of  the  hamlet, 
clothed  in  a  wondrous  collection  of  rags 
placed  over  each  other,  waiting  to  pay  her 
"  salaams "  to  the  white  lady.  She  danced 
a  solemn  jig  round  the 
fire,  pausing  at  certain 
stages  in  the  dance  to 
throw  off  some  rag  of  a 
garment,  till  at  last  I 
used  my  persuasive 
powers  to  induce  her  to 
rest  awhile.  In  the 
morning  I  presented  her 
with  a  much-befrilled 
muslin  blouse,  which 
gave  her  such  satisfac- 
tion that  she  insisted  on 
accompanying  us  for 
miles,  shouting  my 
praises  at  the  top  of  her 
powerful  voice  ! 

'I'hree  days'  marching 
brought  us  home  once 
more  to  Sumbal,  where 
Aziza  regaled  my  coolies 
with    Kashmiri  tea  and 

huge  flat  native  loaves  bought  at  a  weird  little 
baker's  shop.  Even  the  pony  was  not  for- 
gotten, and  enjoyed  a  huge  feed  of  corn. 
And  so  we  parted,  with  mutual   good    wishes. 


From  a\    A  weird  lit!  le  baker's  shop.       [Photo. 


THE     SAFFRON 
/•>o>n  rt] 


I1.\K\INT        IV 
STAMENS    KKl 


189 

and    promises   on    my    part    to    "come    again 
next  year.'' 

After  my  Gangabal  tour  the  nights  became 
so  cold  that  I  gave  up  my  tents  and  decided  to 
go  up  the  river  to  Islamabad,  doing  my  average 
fourteen   miles  a  day  march  to  the  many  ruins 

of  this  part  of  the  valley  ; 
but  returning  at  night  for 
bath,  dinner,  and  bed  in 
my  floating  matted  home. 

One  evening  we  tiofl  up 
at  Pampour,  which  just  then 
was  given  up  to  the  toils 
and  pleasures  of  the  saffron 
gathering ;  for  in  October 
the  little  town  wakes  up. 
Little  mat  booths  are 
erected  for  temporary  shops, 
tents  are  pitched  for  the 
isildars  and  other  Govern- 
ment officials,  and  the 
people  of  the  neighbouring 
villages  collect  to  pick  the 
pretty  purple  blossoms, 
which  cover  for  miles  the 
alluvial  tracts  between  the 
river  and  the  spurs  of  the 
mountains.  The  flowers 
are  stacked  in  great  sail-cloths,  under  the 
strict  supervision  of  the  State  officials,  and 
are  doled  out  to  bands  of  workers,  who  rapidly 
fill  their  baskets  with  the  stamens,  the  only  part 
of    the   flowers   that    is  used.     Saffron   culture 

used  to  be  a  very  con- 
siderable source  of 
revenue  to  the  Govern- 
ment, but  it  is  said  to  be 
decreasing  nowadays. 

Whilst  I  was  at  a  vil- 
lage    called     Bijbihara 
.      /-^M,  o"^  of  '^"^  Mohamme- 

w  ^        y  ^"■t''^  tlan  festivals  was  being 

celebrated,  and  my 
Mohammedan  boatmen 
were  very  busy  and 
mysterious  throughout 
the  day  preparing  a 
Kashmiri  hurra  khana 
(feast)  for  me.  Old 
Aziza,  who  with  his 
courtesy  and  punctilious 
manners  was  quite  a 
gentleman  of  the  old 
school,  insisted  on  wait- 
ing on  me  himself,  and 
was  delighted  with  my  appreciation  of  the 
delicacies  pre|)ared.  A  preparation  of  chicken 
with  rice  proved  so  savoury  that  I  demolished 
half  a  chicken.     This  was  followed  by  a  so.t  of 


FUI.L     SWING  —  SErARATING     THE 
)M    THE    FLOWERS.  {I'hoto. 


190 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


A    CROWD   WAITING    TO     SEE    T 

From  n]  I'Koi'HEi" 


small   sausage  of  minced 

mutton  and  curried  rice, 

and   the  feast  concluded 

with  hard-boiled  eggs  dip- 
ped in  a  savoury  sauce  and 

baked  brown.    The  whole 

meal  was    washed    down 

with   bowls    of    Kashmiri 

tea  (strong  green  tea  from 

Ladak).     Aziza  informed 

me   that   his  priest,  with 

the  "  poor  "  in   his   train, 

was   coming  at  4  a.m.  to 

be  feasted,  though  why  at 

such  a  late  or  rather  early 

hour  I  could  not  fathom. 

From  my  after-dinner  chat 

with  Aziza   I    learnt  that 

the  morrow  was  a  greatday 

of  the  festival,  and  there 

would  be  an  exhibition  of  some  hairs  from  the 

j)rophet's  beard  at   an   old    shrine  some  miles 

from  the  town. 

He    counselled    an    early   start   to   see    the 

wonderful  relics,  so  sunrise  saw  us  well  on  our 

way  by  the  mountain  path  leading  to  Shiram. 

In    the   exhilarating 

frosty  air  we  quickly 

covered  the  ground, 

and  as  we  neared  the 

ziaerat  (shrine)  saw 

crowds  of  young  and 

old,   halt  and  blind, 

wending  their  way  by 

devious     paths,    led 

not  only  by  devotion 

but  by  the  attractions 

of  the  fair  which  is 

held  on  the  ground. 

Having     made     my 

purchases    of    little 

snuff  -  boxes    and 

charms     of     Ladak 

stone,  I  occupied  an 

old     carved     pulpit 

raised      abtne      the 

throng,  and  here  my 

consumption      of 

biscuits  and  tea  was 

presided  over  by  the 

village     choivkidar 

(watchman)     with 

much     solemnity. 

Lrom    my    coign    ot 

vantage     I     amused 

myself  with  watching 

the  iiumours  of   the 

crowd    below.     The 

cap  •  stalls   attracted  ''  "''^'""'"  """  ™"''^ 

'  From  a 


HE     SACRED    HAIRS    FROM    THE 
S    BEARD.  \PIl0to. 


the  greater  number  of 
people,  for  all  Kashmiris 
wear  the  little  coloured 
skull  cap,  from  the  wee 
babe  in  its  mother's  arms 
to  the  tottering  great- 
grandfather of  the  family, 
'i'he  fun  of  the  fair  was 
a  mad  fakir,  who  varied 
the  monotony  of  his 
prayers  by  suddenly  stand- 
ing on  his  head  1  He  also 
performed  incantations 
over  the  hands  of  the 
spectators,  his  own  palm 
havingfirst  been  "crossed" 
with  a  suitable  coin. 

In  the  midst  of  all  the 
racket  inseparable  from  an 
Eastern  crowd  there  came 
a  sudden  lull.  The  venerable  old  priest  appeared 
in  the  little  carved  stand  facing  the  shrine  with 
a  box  in  his  hands.  At  this  signal  the  faithful 
surged  towards  him  singing  in  low  and  reverent 
tones  a  Mussulman  chant.  A  little  silver-topped 
bottle,  laid  on  a  piece  of  rich  silk,  was  held  up 

to  view,  and  the  more 
enthusiastic  pressed 
forward  to  touch  with 
a  piece  of  cord  (worn 
round  the  neck  as  a 
charm)  the  boltle  in 
which  were  the  vener- 
ated hairs.  In  a  few 
minutes  all  was  over, 
and  the  pilgrims,  con- 
fident in  the  belief 
that  their  pilgrimage 
would  be  rewarded, 
retraced  their  steps  to 
manya  remotevillage 
on  the  distant  slopes. 
Our  next  sto[)  was 
Islamabad,  the 
second  town  of 
Kashmir,  built  round 
the  base  of  a  conical 
ii  i  1 1  which  s  h  o  w  s 
beach-marks  of  the 
days  when  Kashmir 
was  one  vast  lake. 

The  springs  which 
on  every  side  burst 
out  of  the  hills  are 
conveyed  into  tanks 
which  simply  swarm 
with      Himalayan 

■  ..    THE   CAVES   OE    I.AWAN.  ^''''■'^-         "^'^U    tluOW    in 

Photo.  a  handful  of  bread, 


A    \V.\I.KIN(;    TOUR    IN    KASHMIR. 


191 


and  in  a  trice  it  is  gobbled  u[)  by  fat  fishes  which 
are  regarded  as  sacred  by  the  natives.  The 
following  day  was  spent  in  exploring  the  Bawan 
caves  and  the  massive  temple  ruins  of  Martand. 

The  first  cave  I  entered  with  much  inward 
trepidation  lest  our  touchwood  torches  should 
go  out  or  loose  stones  be  showered  on  us  from 
the  roof.  We  were  shown  the  recess  where  a 
devotee  of  old  lived  his  strange  life  and  left  his 
bones.  A  few  yards  beyond  this  further  pro- 
gress, except  by  crawling,  was  stopjicd  by  a 
recent  fall  of  stones,  and  so  we  sought  the 
entrance  and  made  our  way  to  the  last  and 
largest  cave,  which  contains  what  is,  perhaps, 
the  very  earliest  Kashmiri  temple.  The  porch 
has  been  cut  out  of  the  solid  rock,  and  thence 
a  gloomy  passage  leads  to  a  flight  of  steps 
ascending  to  the  little  temple  itself.  A  climb 
up  the  hill  brought  us  to  the  plateau  where  the 
grand  ruins  of  Martand  stand  sentinel,  as  they 
have  done  through  countless  ages. 

The  old  priest,  who  acted  as  our  conductor, 
was  very  proud  of  his  book  of  visitors'  signa- 
tures collected  by  his  father  and  himself.  They 
were  old  and  faded,  but  nevertheless  the  book 
contained  the  sign-manuals  of  men  famous 
in  past  and  present  history.  Amongst  the 
more  modern  names  he  showed  us  with 
pride  that  of  Lord  Roberts.  Curiously  enough, 
next  day  when  I  walked  out  to  the  lovely 
springs  and  gardens  of  i\chachabal,  one  of  the 


first  names  I  saw  in  the  visitors'  book  there  was 
that  of  Baden-l'owell  ! 

We  left  Islamabad  at  the  close  of  the  festival, 
and  the  final  picture  that  lingers  with  me  is 
the  distant  flickers  of  dancing  light,  through 
the  dark  poplar  avenues  and  narrow  streets, 
from  the  little  festival  lamps  of  clay  which  it 
is  the  custom  of  the  "  faithful "  to  carry  home 
at  the  conclusion  of  the  feast. 

My  last  tramp  was  to  Payech,  the  most 
perfect  specimen  extant  of  the  many  beautiful 
little  temples  of  Kashmir.  Near  Payech  the 
last  sheaves  of  rice  were  being  threshed  out, 
and  the  Kashmiri  "harvest  home"  was  in  full 
swing.  Unfortunately  I  had  started  that  morn- 
ing without  my  camera,  and  so  was  unable  to 
secure  a  photo,  of  this  characteristic  scene. 
On  fallen  trunks  of  trees  the  workers  were 
threshing  out  the  grain  to  the  lively  strains  ot 
a  queer  native  equivalent  to  a  fiddle,  whilst  the 
clear  space  between  the  piled-up  sheaves  formed 
a  dancing-floor  for  a  country  dance,  representing 
in  dumb  show  the  labours  of  the  harvest.  My 
servants  promised  to  secure  me  the  words  of 
the  harvest-song,  which  was  being  sung  with  great 
vigour,  but  I  never  succeeded  in  getting  them. 

And  so  my  walking  tour  ended,  and  back 
to  Srinagar  I  went  with  all  speed  in  time  to 
secure  a  seat  in  the  tonga,  which  was,  with 
the  morrow's  dawn,  to  carry  me  back  to 
another  year's  work  in  the  burning  plains. 


From  rt] 


l.'Nm;k     illK    CnilNAK     TKI-.KS  — USI-.    in-     .Mi-->    >  1  !■  >i 


Describing  how  a  party  of  station-hands  in  the  Australian  bush  set  out  to  find  a  new  gold-field.  Their 
guide  played  them  false  and  went  over  to  an  opposition  party,  so  stratagem  had  to  be  resorted  to 
to  prevent  their  rivals  reaching  the  place  first.  The  gold-field  turned  out  badly,  and  gradually  the 
diggers  deserted  it.  Only  one  man  remained,  and  everybody  looked  on  him  as  a  harmless  lunatic.  In 
the  end,  however,  he  "  struck  the  reef,"  sold  out  to  a  syndicate,  and  came  home  to  England. 


I E  were  at  supper  in  the  "  rous- 
-u>nH  abouts' "  hut  one  day  towards  the 
»^r^FI  ^"^^  °^  ^'^^  shearing  on  ^Varroo 
Station.  The  conversation  was  of 
the  usual  brilhant  type,  on  the 
same  inexhaustible  subjects — honses,  the  Mel- 
bourne Cu[),  and  the  proljability  of  rain  putting 
a  temporary  stop  to  the  shearing  and  tluis 
delaying  us  for  a  day  or  two  longer. 

Suddenly  through  the  open  door  dashed  a 
black  fellow,  breathless  and  excited.  For  one 
short  second  he  stood  inside,  but  the  next,  as  he 
dived  wildly  for  the  door  to  escape  the  a\'alandie 
of  knives,  plates,  ciuinks  of  damper,  tins  of  jam, 
etc.,  hurled  at  him  by  way  of  protest  against  his 
intrusion,  something  dro[)ped  with  a  heavy  thud 
up(jn  tlie  earth  fl<jor  of  the  hut. 

Ik'fore  we  could  collect  our  scattered  senses 
sufficiently  to  propedy  grasp  the  situation  the 
black  figure,  with  red,  bloodshot  eyes  and 
bearded  face,  was  standing  in  the  doorway, 
gesticulating  wildly  at  something  on  the  ground 
and  jabbering  out,  "  Me  all  right,  boss  ;  me  bin 
a-fmd  him  ;  bin  show  you  where  him  bin  sit 
down." 

"  What  is  his  game  ?  What  is  that  he 
dropped,  liilly?"said  Long  'iom  to  Billy,  who 
had  picked  up  something  heavy  and  taken  it  to 
the  light,  and  was  now  eagerly  turning  it  over  in 


his  hands.  "  Quartz,"  was  Billy's  laconic  reply. 
"Any  good?"  chorussed  the  crowd.  "Very 
good,"  said  Billy. 

We  crowded  round  to  examine  it,  and,  sure 
enough,  there  was  a  lump  of  quartz  as  big  as 
your  head  studded  all  over  with  specks  of  gold. 
There  was  no  doubt  about  it  being  rich  ;  any- 
body, even  the  "  new  chum,"  could  see  that. 

I  may  mention  here  that  none  of  us  up  till 
then  had  had  the  remotest  experience  of  mining, 
except  "Cousin  Jack,"  a  little,  wiry  Cornishman, 
who  at  some  prehistoric  period  claimed  to  have 
worked  for  a  whole  month  in  a  tin  mine  in 
Cornwall.  V>y  unanimous  consent  Jack  was 
installed  as  "  Assayer-General  "  to  the  party. 

After  much  inspection  and  many  probings  at 
specks  of  metal  with  the  point  of  a  penknife, 
"  Cousin  Jack  "  sagely  shook  his  head  and  said 
that  the  (|uartz  was  rich,  but  he  could  not  give 
an  estimate  of  its  value  until  it  had  been  broken. 
We  were  rather  disappointed  at  this,  as  we  had 
expected  our  "  mining  expert  "  to  tell  at  a  glance 
the  exact  value  of  the  (juartz. 

W^e  raced  to  the  wood-heap  for  an  axe,  and 
waited  breathlessly  while  Jack  solemnly  placed 
the  (}uartz  on  the  top  of  a  horse-rail  post  and 
deliberately  raised  the  axe.  The  suspense  was 
awful.  Through  each  man's  mind  flitted  visions 
of    unbounded     wealth  :    owning  a   Melbourne 


COUSIN    JACK'S    "FOI.LV." 


193 


('up  winner;  a  house  in  Park  Lane;  fours-in- 
hand  to  Epsom  ;  iMonte  Carlo,  Paris  ;  steam 
yachts;  love-lorn  maidens  sighing  for  our 
smile,  etc. 

Had  it  been  the  headsman's  axe  we  could  have 
awaited  the  blow  more   calmly  than  we  watched 
tl\e  fall  of  that  mere  wood-chopper's  tool  which 
all  of  us  had   so  often  wielded  to   obtain    the 
wherewithal    to   boil  our   salt    mutton.       Down 
came    the    back   of    the    axe,    a    spark    of   fire 
flew    from    the    quartz,   and    down    it    fell    into 
the  sand  at   the  foot   of    the    post,    unbroken. 
^^'ilh   trembling   hands,   for    the   "gold 
fever "  was  strong  upon  us,   we   placed 
the    block     in     position     again.       Tlie 
"  Assayer  -  General's  "    dignity 
was  gone  now,  though   he  had 
kept  It  up  admirably  till  then, 
as    became   so  hiiih  an  officer. 
A  vicious  swing,  a  glint  of  fall- 
ing steel,  and   "Cousin   Jack's 
Pride,"  as  we  nicknamed 
it  afterwards,  lay  shattered 
in    the    rays    of    the    fast 
declining    sun,     revealing 
to   our  admiring    eyes  in 
all  its  sparkling  glory  the 
finest   piece   of   quartz    it 
had  ever  been  our  lot 
to   see.       The   next 
instant  we  were  down 
on   our    knees  scram- 
bling like  schoolboys 
for  the  precious  frag- 
ments.     Each   had 
formed    his    own 
opinion  of   the    value 
of  the  quartz,   but  all 
were  anxious   to  hear 
the    "Assayer- 
(jeneral's"  official 
report.       After   a 
long      inspection 
he  gave  it  as  his 
opinion  that    the 
stuff    would    run 
at    200Z.    to    the 
ton  —  probably 
more  —  but    that 
he  could  not  say 

definitely,  as  the  sun  had  gone  down.  He 
would  inspect  it  thoroughly  in  the  morning. 

"Vou  bin  a-see  him  all  right  now,"  interjected 
the  black  fellow  at  this  juncture.  This  called  us 
to  our  senses ;  we  had  completely  forgotten 
him.  We  crowded  round  him  and  anxiously 
plied  him  with  questions.  When  did  he  find 
it?  Where?  Was  it  far?  and  so  on,  till  we 
quite  confused  his  dull  brain.      At  last  he  said, 

Vol.  X.  -25. 


'  ME 
ME 


despairingly,  "  All  right,  boss,  don't  too  much 
bin  yabber  ;  me  bin  tell  it  all  right."  "Come 
in  and  tell  us,  Hoko,"  .said  Long  Tom,  and 
without  more  ado  he  was  welcomed  into  the 
hut  where  he  had  received  such  a  warm  recep- 
tion a  little  while  previously. 

It  seemed  that  he  had  picked  it  up  while  after 
kangaroo.s,  and  was  willing  to  show  us  the  place 
— which  was  a  week's  journey  from  Warroo — 
for  a  cash  consideration  in  baccy  and  rum,  and 
a  rifle  on  delivery.  This  proposition  having 
been  agreed  to  with  the  stipulation  that  he  was 

to  stay  with  us  and  not 
to  show  anyone  else  the 
spot,    we   gave    him    a 
blanket  as  an  earnest  of 
our  good  intentions,  and 
he  went  off  up  the  creek 
to  camp  for  the 
night.     When 
he  had  gone  we 
promptly  formed 
ourselves  into  a 
"syndicate"  and 
held  our    first 
meeting.      A 
resolution  was 
passed    that    we 
should    all    stay 
on  at  Warroo  till 
the   end   of  the 
shearing,    which 
would  be  only  a 
few  days,  and 
then  club  all  our 
money    together 
and   purchase  a 
spring  dray,    ra- 
tions, picks,  etc. 
Horses  we  all 
had  except  Mike, 
and    Kill    j)os- 
sessed  a  big  half- 
draught  horse 
that    was    alleged    to    "go"    in 
harness,  and   I  had  an  old  pack- 
horse  that  did  not  mind  where 
he  went  so  long  as  you  did  not 
try  to  make  him  go  too  flist,  so 
we  reckoned  we  should  get  the 
dray  through  somehow. 

In  the  morning  "  Boko"  was  up  and  ready 
for  more  "baccy."  How  long  those  few 
remaining  days  seemed  !  Never  did  showers 
come  at  such  provoking  times,  never  were  sheep 
more  stupid  to  pen  up,  nor  wool  more  sandy 
and  hard  to  shear.  One  evening,  about  two 
days  before  the  last  sheep  was  shorn,  Billy 
returned  from  an  excursion  to  the  public-house 


ALL  RIGHT,  BOSS 
IlIN  A   riNO  \{\\\." 


194 


THE    WIDE     WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


with  the  news  that  a  party  of  well-sinkers  had 
arrived  and  were  staying  there  for  a  spell,  having 
just  finished  a  contract.  They  had  with  them, 
he  said,  a  light  dray  and  plenty  of  tools.  He  had 
had  a  few  drinks  with  them,  and  sounded  them 
on  the  possibility  of  effecting  a  purchase  of  the 
outfit,  but  had  found  out  that  they  had  another 
contract  in  hand,  and  would  not  entertain  an 
offer,  as  they  wanted  to  get  through  with  it  and 
then  go  down  to  see  the  race  for  the  Cup. 

Long  and  earnest  was  the  ofiicial  meeting 
that  night,  and  many  and  ingenious  the  schemes 
propounded  by  various  members  of  the  "  Ways 
and  Means  Committee  "  to  carry  out  the  un- 
proposed,  unseconded,  but  unanimously  carried 
resolution — "  That  this  syndicate  obtain  posses- 
sion of  that  outfit."  Long  Tom,  our  gambler, 
was  in  favour  of  getting  them  to  indulge  in  a 
game  of  "  two  up,"  and  Billy  had  a  notion  that 
the  "  boss  "  well-sinker  had  a  horse  he  fancied 
could  gallop,  and  wanted  to  arrange  a  match 
with  his  mare.  "  Cousin  Jack  "  was  convinced 
that  "  poker "  was  the  correct  method,  while 
Mike  had  a  very  creditable  notion  of  getting 
the  well-sinkers  drunk  and  then  bargaining  with 
them  for  the  coveted  dray. 

Our  chairman  rose  on  several  occasions  to 
points  of  order,  but  as  no  one  took  any  par- 
ticular notice  he  was  fain  to  content  himself 
with  recording  in  the  minutes  of  the  syndicate 
the  first  and  only  resolution  passed.  Still,  as 
he  explained  ne.xt  day,  we  were  improving  in 
our  business  methods. 

The  next  night  the  syndicate  went  over  in 
force  to  the  inn,  and  Long  Tom  soon  contrived 
to  get  a  game  of  "  two  up "  on  the  go,  in 
which   the  well-sinkers  joined,  but  it  required 


the  combined  efforts  of  the  syndicate  to  save 
him  from  an  untimely  grave  when  they  spotted 
his  "  double-headed  "  penny.  Nor  was  Billy 
more  successful,  for  his  mare  was  easily  beaten 
in  a  match  for  JQ20  a-side  by  a  rough,  half- 
draught  horse  of  theirs  that  did  not  look  as 
though  he  could  gallop  at  all.  Jack,  too,  got 
cleaned  out  at  poker.  But  the  unkindest  cut  of 
all  was  having  to  borrow  their  dray  to  convey 
poor  Mike  to  the  station.  He  had  complttely 
collapsed  after  a  prolonged  but  fruitless  effort  to 
get  the  well-sinkers  sufficiently  muddled  to  part 
with  their  coveted  vehicle  for  cash.  It  was  a 
black  night  for  the  syndicate. 

Shearing  over  at  Warroo,  we  moved  our 
"offices"  into  more  commodious  premises  at 
the  inn.  The  morning  after  our  arrival  the 
well-sinkers  left — and  so  did  "  Boko,"  who  had 
promised  to  guide  us  to  the  gold-find  !  An 
extraordinary  meeting  was  promptly  called,  at 
which  the  following  resolutions  were  passed  in 
record  time  : — 

1.  That  Long  Tom  and  Mike  proceed  to  the  nearest 
township  and  purchase  outfit  on  behalf  of  syndicate. 

2.  That  "Cousin  Jack"  remain  in  status  quo  (we 
rather  fancied  that  ])hrase)  and  be  the  official  receiver 
and  forwarder  of  all  reports. 

3.  That  Billy  and  Hyde  track  the  opposition,  and,  if 
possible,  effect  the  capture  of  the  absconding  "  vendor." 

4.  That  it  is  imperative  for  the  well-being  of  this 
syndicate  that  every  obstacle  and  hindrance,  short  of 
manslaughter,  be  placed  in  the  way  of  the  members  of 
the  opposition,  both  individually  and  collectively. 

Billy  and  I  soon  saddled  up  and,  taking  our 
blankets  and  some  rations,  started  in  pursuit  of 
the  well-sinkers.  We  had  formed  no  definite 
plan  of  campaign,  but  had  full  authority  to  act 
as  occasion  should  dictate.  The  track  of  the 
dray  was  easy  to  follow,  and  we  found  that  they 


NOK    WAS    'UII.I.V'    MOKK   SUCCKSSKIJL,    FOK    HIS    MAKK    WAS    KASII.V    DEATKN. 


COUSIN     JACK'S    "FOI.l.V. 


^95 


were  heading  slrnight  for  the  ranges  to  the 
north. 

For  two  days  we  watclied  them,  taking  care 
to  keep  out  of  sight  oursehes.  Each  morning 
we  concealed  ourselves  near  their  horses  before 
daybreak,  in  the  hope  that  they  would  send 
"  Boko  ''  out  to  bring  tliem  in,  but  no  oppor- 
tunity of  effecting  our  object  presented  itself, 
as  the  well-sinkers  would  not  trust  him  out  of 
their  sight. 

On  the  third  night  we  prepared  for  more 
active  measures.  As  we  apparently  had  no 
chance  of  capturing  the  "  vendor  "  we  decided 
to  commandeer  their  horses  and  so  prevent 
them  from  proceeding  while  we  waited  for 
reinforcements.  Riding  to  within  sight  of  their 
camp-fire  we  tied  our  horses  up  and  went 
stealthily  forward  on  foot. 

I  had  brought  my  cattle-dog,  Bluie,  with 
me,  as  he  would  be  sure  to  tell  me  if  there  was 
anyone  about  and  prevent  us  being  taken  by 
surprise. 

We  found  that  the  "enemy"  had  camped 
close  to  a  water-hole  in  the  creek,  on  the 
opposite  bank  of  which  was-  a  belt  of  timber. 
From  this  cover  we  decided  to  reconnoitre  at 
close  quarters.  By  creeping  silently  through 
the  scrub,  taking  great  care  not  to  tread  on  any 
dry  sticks  or  create  the  slightest  noise,  we 
gained  a  coign  of  vantage  from  which  we  could 
see  everything,  and  almost  hear  what  the  well- 
sinkers  said  as  they  sat  and  smoked  round 
the  fire. 

The  first  thing  we  noticed  was  that  they  had 
a  saddle  horse  tied  up  to  the  dray ;  evidently 
they  intended  to  be  off  early. 

I  never  in  my  life  wanted  to  smoke  so  badly 
as  I  did  that  night  as  we  lay  there  cursing  the 
mosquitoes  and  waiting  for  the  opposition  to 
turn  in  ;  but  Billy  was  adamant  and  would  not 
hear  of  me  striking  a  match  on  any  account. 
Presently,  however,  our  opponents  all  retired 
save  one,  who  was  evidently  going  to  keep 
watch. 

We  had  not  reckoned  on  this.  What  we  had 
intended  to  do  was  to  watch  till  they  were  all 
asleep  and  then  ride  down  and  drive  off  the 
horses.  But  we  dare  not  bring  our  animals 
near  theirs,  for  had  we  done  so  one  or  the 
other  would  be  sure  to  whinny  as  soon  as 
tliey  "scented"  the  other  horses,  and  thus 
alarm  the  watcher.  But  an  idea  occurred  to 
me  that  nearly  sent  Billy  into  a  fit  when  I 
explained  it.  We  went  back  to  our  horses. 
According  to  my  instructions  Billy  took  his 
saddle  and  bridle  off,  tied  his  horse  up  again 
with  a  halter,  and  we  started  off.  Bluie,  of 
course,  kept  close  to  me. 

I    must    here    explain    there    are    only    four 


breeds  of  dogs  in  the  l)ush—"  kangaroo  " 
dogs,  "  sheep  "  dogs,  "  cattle  '  dogs,  and 
"  black  fellow's "  dogs,  but  the  latter  don't 
count,  being,  as  Mike  used  to  say,  "  no  dogs 
at  all"  ;  for  if  you  give  a  black  the  best  dog  in 
the  country  in  a  short  time  the  animal  will 
degenerate  hopelessly  and  irretrievably  into  a 
"  black  fellow's  "  dog.  Sheep-dogs  should  bark 
and  not  bite,  a  cattle-dog  bite  and  not  bark.  I 
don't  believe  Bluie  could  have  barked  if  he 
had  tried  ;  anyhow,  I  never  heard  him.  The 
way  a  cattle-dog  works  is  to  approach  a  horse 
or  beast  from  the  rear,  and  creeping  on  his 
stomach  nip  the  animal's  heel.  The  animal 
instantly  kicks,  but  as  it  raises  one  foot  the  dog 
bites  the  other,  the  kicks  passing  harmlessly  over 
his  crouching  body. 

We  quietly  caught  the  well-sinkers'  horses  and 
removed  their  hobbles,  leaving  the  bells  on  so 
as  not  to  arouse  suspicion.  Billy  saddled  up 
one,  then  I  left  him,  and  Bluie  and  I  crept 
up  together  till  we  were  almost  within  the  circle 
of  the  firelight.  Then  showing  Bluie  the  horse 
that  was  standing  fast  asleep  by  the  dray,  I  set 
him  on. 

There  was  a  rush  of  canine  feet,  and  a  sharj) 
"  snap  !  snap  !  "  as  he  bit  first  at  one  heel  and 
then  the  other.  Then  there  came  a  terrified 
snort,  a  wild,  struggling  plunge,  and  before  the 
dozing  watcher  could  realize  what  had  happened, 
a  horse  with  a  broken  bridle  was  galloping 
madly  down  the  creek  with  one  of  the  best  dogs 
in  the  colonies  in  pursuit,  whilst  the  crack  of 
Billy's  stock-whip  and  an  unwonted  jangling  of 
horse-bells  out  on  the  plain  announced  the  f.act 
that  the  enemy's  entire  remount  department 
had  been  successfully  commandeered. 

Whistling  to  Bluie  to  return,  I  ran  for  my 
life  for  our  horses.  I  succeeded  in  reaching 
them,  and,  mounting,  rode  off,  leading  Billy's 
horse  to  where  I  could  hear  the  bells.  Here  I 
joined  Billy,  and  together  we  drove  our  captures 
into  the  bush.  The  frightened  saddle-horse  had 
joined  his  mates,  and  so  we  had  them  all.  In 
the  morning  I  rode  in  to  our  head-quarters  to 
report  to  Jack,  leaving  Billy  to  shepherd  the 
animals. 

Later  in  the  day  the  boss  well-sinker  arrived 
on  foot,  and,  after  standing  us  a  drink,  informed 
us  casually  that  unfortunately  all  his  horses  had 
strayed  away.  He  hinted  that  we,  having 
horses,  could  no  doubt  assist  him  to  recover 
them. 

The  ice  once  broken  we  soon  came  to  terms, 
with  the  result  that  Jack  and  I  called  an 
impromptu  meeting  outside.  I  must  confess 
that  there  was  a  certain  lack  of  dignity  about 
the  proceedings,  especially  when  at  a  critical 
moment  in  the  debate  the  chairman  discovered 


196 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


"the  enemies    entire  remount 

uel'aktment  had  been   successkui.l-y 

com  m  andeered. " 

thai  lie  was  sitting  on  an  ant-heap.  However, 
he  came  throuj^h  all  right,  and  the  following 
resolutions  were  carried  and  duly  recorded  with 
the  stump  of  a  pencil  on  the  back  of  a 
Melbourne  Cup  price-list  : — 

I.  Th.it  ihis  syndicate,  after  due  deliberation,  are  con" 
vinced  of  the  veracity  of  the  following  statements  made 
l)y  the  leader  of  the  opposition  :  — 

(a)  That  he  at  the  present  time  has  sole  and 
undisputed  possession  of  the  "  vendor,"  together 
with  his  entire  real  and  personal  estate.  (These 
consisted,  by  the  way,  of  a  frowsy  blanket  and  a 
short  pipe.) 

(b)  That  even  in  the  event  of  his  not  retaining 
possession  of  the  hereinl)efore-mentioned  "vendor," 
one  dray  is  as  easily  tracked  as  another. 

(c)  That  under  such  circumstances  it  is  a  scientifi- 
cally established  fact  that  rifle-bullets  have  been 
found  unsuitaljle  food  for  hftrses. 


(d)  That  in  view  of  the  uncer- 
tain temperament  of  vendors 
in    general,    and  this  one  in 
particular,     it     is     obviously 
essential    to   the    interest    of 
both    parties,     especially    as 
neither  can  lay  claim  to  any 
very  prominent   "bulge,"  to 
dictate  "  peace  with  honour" 
and   proceed    with    the    least 
possible  delay  to  discover  the 
exact  wealth  of  the  unknown 
El  Dorado. 
2.    That,   the   opposition   having 
on  the   one   part  conceded  to  this 
syndicate  the  sole  right  to  first  select 
a  spot  to  commence  operations,  this 
syndicate  on  the  other  part  hereby 
covenant  and  agree  to  use  their  best 
endeavours  to  recover  and  return  to 
their  right  and  lawful  owners  certain 
horses  now  presumed  to  be  at  large 
and  roaming  at  their  own  sweet  will 
somewhere   in    the   vicinity  of    the 
camp  of  the  hereinbefore-mentioned 
opposition  ;  and  that  now  henceforth 
and  for  ever  resolution  No.  4  passed 
at  a  previous  meeting  of  this  syndi- 
cate   be   hereby  declared    null   and 
void. 

This  portentous  document, 
drawn  up  by  "  Cousin  Jack," 
who  insisted  on  doing  every- 
thing in  a  proper  and  business- 
like fashion,  as  he  called  it, 
was  duly  signed,  sealed,  and 
delivered,  and,  having  seen  it 
placed  for  security  in  the  lining 
of  Jack's  hat,  I  mounted  and 
rode  off  to  assist  Billy  to  drive 
back  the  horses. 

Shortly  after  Long  Tom  and 

Mike    overtook    us    with    our 

newly  -  purchased   outfit,    and 

the    whole    party   travelled  to 

our   destination    in   company. 

Here  the   "  Assayer-General  " 

was  called    upon    to  select  a 

suitable  spot.     It  took  him  several  days  to  do 

this,  we  waiting  as  patiently  as  possible  under 

the  circumstances. 

Ultimately  we  started  work,  however,  on  two 
claims,  and  for  weeks  pick  and  shovel  were  plied 
from  daylight  till  dark ;  but  the  "  gold  fever " 
was  dying  off  fast.  One  morning  the  well-sinkers 
came  over  with  a  proposal  that  we  should  amalga- 
mate with  them.  By  thus  increasing  the  working 
staff  we  should  get  on  much  faster.  We  were 
to  work  their  claim,  as  it  was  better  developed 
than  ours,  and  this  was  agreed  to  by  all  except 
the  "  Assayer-General,"  who  wanted  to  continue 
work  on  our  own  claim.  So  we  split,  as  he  was 
obdurate,  and  left  him  and  Mike,  whom  he 
talked  over,  to  work  by  themselves. 

By  this  time  quite  a  little  "rush  "  had  set  in, 


COUSIN    JACK'S    "FOLLY." 


197 


and  we  easily  paid  our  out  of-pocket  expenses 
by  running  our  drays  into  the  township  for 
rations.  This  and  cooking  for  the  crowd  was 
Long  Tom's  special  duty.  For  months  this 
went  on,  till  one  by  one,  finding  nothing  for 
their  pains,  the  new-comets  dropped  off  in  dis- 
gust and  went  elsewhere  to  seek  their  fortunes. 

One  morning  we  observed  an  unwonted  stir 
in  the  camp,  and  were  at  a  loss  to  account  for 
it.  We  were  not  left  long  in  suspense,  however, 
for  we  soon  found  that  a  general  exodus  was  in 
progress,  the  new-comers  having  arrived  at  the 
conclusion  that  they  had  struck  a  "duffer."  As 
usual  in  such  cases,  what  had  been  in  the 
morning  a  picturesque  encampment  was  by 
evening  a  miniature  wilderness.  Anything  more 
dispiriting  than  the  appearance  of  the  late 
encampment  when  we  strolled  over  in  the 
evening  cannot  be  imagined. 

The  ground  was  strewn  with  empty  tins, 
bottles,  disused  clothing,  discarded  mining 
implements,  the  still  smouldering  ashes  of 
camp-fires,  and  here  and  there  a  ghostly  tent 
too  tattered  to  be  worth  carrying  away,  flap- 
ping mournfully  in  the  moonlight. 

Day  by  day  we  grew  more  and  more  listless 
in  our  work.  One  by  one  the  members  of  the 
"  amalgamated  syndicate "  got  disgusted  and 
left,  till  it  was  finally  reduced  to  Billy,  Long 
Tom,  one  of  the  well-sinkers,  and  myself.    Again 

we   proposed      . 

amalgamation  to 
the  "Assayer- 
General,"  but 
were  refused, 
though  we  had 
found  odd 
patches  of  quartz, 
which  had,  how- 
ever, proved  too 
poor  to  work,  but 
seemed  to  indi- 
cate that  we  were 
working  in  the 
right  spot,  while 
he,  on  the  other 
hand,  had  abso- 
lutely nothing  to 
show. 

One  evening, 
in  sheer  disgust, 
the  following 
resolution  was 
proposed  and 
carried  unani- 
mously :  "  That 
this  syndicate 
suspend  further 
operations   till 


after  shearing."  Fortunately  it  was  just  then 
shearing  time,  and  we  were  lucky  enough  to 
get  our  jobs  on  \Varroo  again. 

'i'wo  years  later  Billy  and  I  were  down  that 
way  with  a  mob  of  cattle,  and  heard  that  the 
"  AssayerGeneral  "  and  Mike  were  still  at  it, 
Mike  going  away  now  and  then  doing  fencing 
and  other  odd  jobs,  and  spending  all  his  money 
in  rations  to  take  up  and  work  for  a  spell  at  the 
mine,  and  coming  out  again  when  they  were 
done.  After  that  we  heard  that  Mike  had  given 
it  up  and  gone  away,  leaving  "Cousin  Jack" — 
who  had  long  ago  become  the  laughing- 
stock of  the  country-side — to  work  on  alone. 
How  he  lived  is  a  mystery,  but  live  and  work  he 
did,  and  nothing  would  induce  him  to  give  up 
his  mad  idea  that  a  fabulously  rich  reef  was 
situated  somewhere  there. 

He  was  regarded  as  a  harmless  lunatic,  and 
many  a  kindly  station-hand  from  the  surrounding 
stations  would  ride  miles  out  of  his  way  to  have 
a  chat  with  the  "  Assayer-General ''  and  leave 
behind  a  little  present  of  rations. 

One  day,  however,  the  whole  country-side 
was  electrified  by  the  news  that  "Cousin  Jack" 
had  struck  the  reef  and  was  in  the  township 
showing  specimens  to  everybody.  He  went 
down  to  Sydney  and  sold  his  claim  to  a  power- 
ful syndicate,  retaining  an  interest  himself,  and 
to-day  he  is  living  comfortably  in  England. 


^h^f-,  /'Av^"'! 


'cousin    JAClv'    WAS    IN    TIIK     roWNSHII'   SHOWING    SlECI.Mli.N.S    To    liVIiKYluHiV. 


My  Escape  from  Mexico, 


Bv  S.  McReynolds. 

The  author  is  an  American  journalist,  and  whilst  editing  a  paper  in  Mexico  City  exposed  a  number  of 
flagrant  abuses  in  connection  with  the  treatment  of  prisoners.  This  did  not  please  the  Government,  and 
an  order  was  issued  for  the  suppression  of  his  paper  and  his  own  arrest.     Mr.  McReynolds  narrates  for 

the  first  time  the  full  story  of  his  remarkable  escape. 


HERE  were  several  events  which 
had  inspired  me  to  attaclc  the 
Mexican  Government  through  the 
coUimns  of  my  paper,  the  first  and 
[principal  being  the  death  of  an 
American  engineer  named  Turner.  In  itself 
the  death  was  not  of  very  momentous  import 
ance,  but  the  tragedy  with  which  it  is  linked  is 
one  of  those  dark  tales  which  make  the 
American  in  Mexico  blush  for  the  apathy  of  his 
(Government  and  drive  many  to  palm  themselves 
off  as  English  citizens  in  order  that  they  may  be 
guaranteed  the  protection  to  which  they  are 
entitled. 

Turner  was  a  locomotive  engineer  on  what  is 
popularly  known  as  the  "  Queen's  Own  "  rail- 
road running  between  the  "  City "  and  Vera 
Cruz.  While  thus  employed  he  had  the  mis- 
fortune to  run  over  a  Mexican  fireman,  who 
stupidly  crawled  under  the  engine  after  the 
signal  to  start  had  been  given.  In  accordance 
with  the  usual  custom  on  the  occasion  of  an  acci- 
dental death,  everything  animate  and  inanimate 
that  could  by  any  possibility  have  contributed 
to  the  disaster  was  placed  under  arrest.  The 
engine  was  arrested  and  sealed  to  the  track  with 
an  official  seal,  while  the  unfortunate  engineer 
and  his  assistants  were  hustled  off  to  the  Orizaba 
gaol  to  await  judicial  investigation.  They  should 
have  been  accorded  a  trial  within  seventy- 
two  hours,  for  the  Mexican  Government,  l)y 
numerous  conventions  and  treaties,  has  guaran- 
teed this  to  all  American  citizens.  A  week 
rolled  by,  however,  and  Turner  was  still  in 
confinement.  A  brief  paragraph  in  the  Tivo 
Republics— \\\it  paper  of  which  I  was  editor- 
cautiously  reminded  the  authorities  that  Turner 
was  an  American  citizen  and  entitled  to  an 
immediate  hearing.  The  effect  was  nil.  A  few 
days  later  an  editorial  appeared,  much  the  same 
in  substance,  but  of  greater  length  and  fervour. 
This  penetrated  no  deeper  in  the  official   mind 


than  the  former,  so  I  decided  to  go  to  Orizaba 
to  investigate  matters  for  myself. 

I  found  Turner.  He  was  one  of  1,200  men 
huddled  in  a  patio,  or  courtyard,  hardly  a 
hundred  feet  square.  But  for  the  cut  of  his 
clothes  I  could  scarcely  have  distinguished  him 
from  the  horde  of  filthy  peons  who  were  packed 
about  him.  His  face  was  besmirched  beyond 
recognition  and  his  hair  matted  in  cakes.  He 
blubbered  like  a  child.  I  peered  through  the 
gates  beyond  him.  The  place  could  not  have 
been  cleaned  for  months.  There  was  no  such 
thing  as  sanitation  about  the  place,  and  when 
the  poor  inmates,  through  sheer  weariness  or 
despair,  sank  to  the  ground  for  relief,  they 
awoke  to  find  themselves  literally  alive  with 
vermin.  I  saw  men  piled  in  heaps  on  the 
ground,  their  bodies  entangled  and  writhing 
like  so  many  snakes,  and  all  crying  piteously. 
It  was  a  scene  worthy  of  Dante's  "Inferno." 
I  could  feel  my  flesh  crawl  with  horror,  and  I 
feared  to  touch  the  iron  bars  or  stand  still  in  my 
tracks  lest  I  be  contaminated.  Turner  told  me 
he  wished  he  were  dead,  and  I  replied  that  I 
wished  so  too,  if  he  had  to  remain  long  in  that 
fearful  place,  but  I  pledged  him  my  best  efforts 
for  his  release. 

We  published  the  whole  facts  in  detail,  and 
sent  marked  copies  to  the  State  Department  at 
Washington.  The  officials  there  referred  it  to 
the  Ambassador,  and  there  it  ended.  The 
Ambassador  said  that  it  would  create  friction 
between  the  (Governments  to  attempt  to  enforce 
the  treaty  on  behalf  of  every  Tom,  Dick,  and 
Harry  who  got  into  trouble.  And  so  the  diplo- 
matic waters  were  not  disturbed,  and  the 
Ambassador  grew  apace  in  social  favour. 

In  the  meantime  the  days  grew  into  weeks 
and  the  weeks  into  months,  and  still  poor 
Turner  had  been  accorded  no  hearing,  and  he 
was  breaking  down  in  health.  At  last  we 
became   desperate   and    published  an  editorial 


MY    ESCArE    FROM    MEXICO. 


199 


"  I    I'I.EDCKIJ    HIM    MY    BEST    EFFOKTS    FOR    HIS    RELEASE." 

recommending  the  United  States  to  send  a  war- 
ship to  Vera  Cruz  and  bombard  the  city,  if 
Turner  were  not  released.  It  created  a  furore, 
of  course,  and  we  all  expected  the  paper  to  be 
seized  and  ourselves  arrested.  I'he  official 
organs  in  reply  fairly  sizzled  with  invective  and 
vituperation.  "  Such  impudence  in  the  very 
capital  of  the  nation  was  unprecedented."  they 
said. 

It  is  difficult  to  say  just  how  the  matter  would 
have  terminated,  but  at  this  juncture  we  re- 
ceived news  that  caused  us  to  pause.  A  gaunt, 
emaciated  corpse,  all  that  remained  of  the  un- 
fortunate George  Turner,  was  delivered  to  his 
widow  for  burial  !  So  much  for  Mexican 
justice  ! 

One  morning  a  few  weeks  later  I  came  hastily 


up  the  Calle  de  San  Fran- 
cisco  and    turned    into   the 
open  expanse  of  San   Juan 
de    Letran.       My   attention 
was    attracted    by   a    great, 
stalwart  American,  who  was 
being  besieged  by  a  horde  of 
little,  chattering  gendarmes, 
all  gesticulating  like  madmen 
and  rushing  at  him   like  so 
many  litde  terriers  attacking 
a    mastiff      As  one   of  the 
Mexicans   came    within    his 
grasp,   this  modern  Samson 
seized  him  by  the  too  ample 
folds  of  his  coat  and  trousers 
and  pitched  him  bodily  into 
the  crowd,  (iuns,  scabbards, 
swords,  clubs,  and  gendarmes 
went  to  the  pavement  in  a 
struggling   mass,   and    min- 
gled   cries    of    anger    and 
approval   rose   from   the 
crowd.      It  was  a   brief  vic- 
tory, however,  for,  just  as  I 
was    wondering  what  crime 
my    compatriot    had    com- 
mitted, a    man    with  the 
features  of  a    C.erman    Jew 
rushed  in  from  the  rear  and, 
getting  both  of  the  arms  ot 
the  giant,  pinioned  them  to 
his  back,   where   they  were 
bound  and   locked  with 
chains  by  the  nimble  fingers 
of  the  officers.     A  half-hour 
later  I  saw  him  pass  through 
the  massive  gates  of  Belem. 
Belem,  the  "  Bastille  of  Mexico,"  as  it  has 
been  frecjuently  termed,  is  a  great  hive  ot 
dungeons  whose  history,  I  was  going  to  say, 
"  might  a  tale  unfold,"  but  it  has  no  history. 
Many    have    entered    there,    and    fewer    have 
emerged,  that  is  all.     If  men  are  executed  there, 
no  crack  of  the  rifle  ever  resounds  beyond  its 
walls,  and   there  is  no  official  announcement  of 
the   death.      If  there  are   iron  masks  or  chalk- 
marked  doors  within,  its  dark  cells  and  corridors 
stifle  the  secret  in  the  gloom.     It   is  the  great 
central   prison  of  the   city,   to  which   all  others 
are    tributary  —  the    final     destination    of     all 
those    who    through     crime     or    intrigue    are 
deemed    inimical    to   the   Government.     It   is 
the    right    hand   of    the   despot   who   rules   at 
Chapultepec. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day  I  inquired 
at  Belem  regarding  the  lusty  American,  for  I  was 
curious  to  know  why  he  had  been  arrested. 
They  denied  that  he  had  ever  been  in  their 


200 


rHE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE 


custody!  Such  a  transparent  plot  as  this 
seemed  to  reveal  was  too  diabolical  to  mince 
words  over,  and  I,  having  been  a  witness  to 
the  man's  incarceration,  was  given  free  rein  to 
expose  it  in  the  paper,  which  I  did  at  length. 
'I'he  man  was  promptly  liberated. 


lU'.l.l-.M,     IHK    "  1;AM  ll.l.l'.    ()!•'    MKXIL 


As  such  incidents  multiplied,  the  determina- 
tion of  the  Government  to  wreak  vicarious 
l)unishment  on  me  deepened,  until  one  morn- 
ing a  friend  awoke  me  from  sleep  with  the 
tidings  that  a  warrant  had  been  issued  for  my 
arrest  on  a  charge  of  sedition. 

I  moved  to  another  hotel  that  day,  feigned 
the  invalid,  and  had  my  meals  served  in  my 
room.  There  I  remained  for  a  week,  scanning 
the  papers  morning  and  evening,  hoping  each 
day  to  learn  that  my  case  had  been  dismissed. 
]jut  it  was  not  so.  Speculation  as  to  my 
whereabouts  consumed  greater  space  with  each 
succeeding  issue,  and  the  police  officers  were 
(juoted  as  saying  that  they  would  never  relax 
their  search  until  I  was  brought  to  justice.  At 
last  £/  Imparcial  announced  that  the  entire 
detective  force  of  the  Republic  had  been 
notified  of  my  escape,  and  that  if  I  were  in  the 
country  I  should  be  in  custody  within  twenty- 
four  hours  1  It  was  evidently  high  time  for  me 
to  flee  Mexico. 

That  evening  I  slipped  (juietly  through  the 
corridors  down  into  the  street  and  thence, 
keeping  to  the  shadows  and  unfrequented 
passages,  to  the  house  of  a  friend  whose 
itluntity  I  dare  not  reveal.  When  I  emerged  I 
was  wearing  some  of  liis  wife's  clothes,  a  red 
blouse,  grey  cloth  .skirt,  big  black  hat  with 
l)lumes,  and  a  fur  collarette  to  conceal  my  short 
hair.  Tlie  mysteries  of  skirt  and  petticoat 
mani[)ulation  and  the  arts  of  rising,  sitting,  and 
walking  without  becoming  enmeshed  in  masses 


of  cloth  had  been  illustrated  and  explained,  so 
that  I  was  able  to  perform  all  the  simpler 
evolutions,  if  not  with  grace,  at  least  in  such  a 
manner  as  not  to  attract  particular  attention. 

It   was  yet   early  when   I   reached   my  room, 
but  I  continued  my  preparations  for  immediate 

departure.  It  was  with 
extreme  reluctance,  how- 
ever, that  I  decided  to 
leave  that  historic  old 
city.  I  was  interrupted 
in  my  meditations,  how- 
ever, by  the  familiar 
clanking  of  a  sword  in 
the  hallway  and  a  faint 
knock  on  my  door. 

It  was  a  gendarme  with 
a  warrant  for  my  arrest  ! 
He  was  perceptibly  em- 
barrassed on  finding  me 
a  woman,  but  I  received 
him  courteously  and  as 
graciously  as  possible. 
He  permitted  me  to  read 
the  warrant.  It  com- 
manded that  I  be  placed 
in  Belem  "  incommunicado  "  (solitary  confine- 
ment) for  seventy-two  hours,  or  until  the  court 
should  complete  its  investigation.  I  would 
rather  have  been  run  through  with  the  sword 
dangling  at  his  side  than  so  much  as  darken 
the  threshold  of  that  terrible  prison.  I  ex- 
plained to  the  gendarme  that  I  was  the  wife  of 
the  person  mentioned  in  the  writ,  but  that  I 
knew  my  husband  not  only  had  no  desire  to 
escape,  but  recognised  the  futility  of  attempt- 
ing to  do  so.  If  he  would  kindly  return  in  the 
course  of  a  few  hours,  I  said,  my  husband 
would  be  in.  He  was  visibly  pleased,  and 
departed  with  many  a  salute  and  obeisance  to 
my  ladyship. 

(living  him  barely  time  to  get  out  of  sight,  I 
followed  him  to  the  street  and  then  hastened — 
as  well  as  I  could  hasten  with  a  load  of  skirts 
clinging  to  my  legs — to  the  railway  depot.  I 
kept  as  much  in  the  shadow  as  possible,  but 
whenever  a  gendarme  stared  at  me  I  thought 
everything  was  lost.  The  agent  at  the  station 
sold  me  a  ticket  without  suspicion,  however,  and 
I  entered  the  I'ullman  with  a  feeling  of  triumph. 
When  I  woke  in  the  morning  we  had  issued 
from  the  well-cultivated  valleys  of  the  south, 
with  their  corn  and  maguey,  and  were  running 
along  a  lofty  plateau  between  two  distant 
mountain  ranges,  both  of  which  were  dimly 
visible  in  the  hazy  blue.  The  earth  was  barren; 
except  for  the  nondescript  little  shrubs  that 
waved  in  the  wake  of  the  train,  only  the  cacti 
and  "Spanish  daggers,"  which   sprang  from  tall, 


MV  Escape  from  Mexico. 


!0I 


dead  trunks,  broke  the  level  of  the  desert.  At 
intervals  white  wooden  crosses  stood  up  amid 
the  desolation,  each  proclaiming  a  tragedy  at 
the  hands  of  the  outlaws  who  once  roamed  this 
broad  expanse.     To  one  fleeing  from  the  musty 


3^ 


"l    EXl'I.AINKI)   'lO   THE   GF.MIARME   THAT    I    WAS   THE   WIFE 
OF    THE    HICKSON    MENTIONED    IN    THE    WUIT." 


darkness  of  a  dungeon,  such  a  spacious  scene 
is  very  welcome.  It  led  me  to  imagine  that  I 
was  free,  but  I  was  wrong. 

Presently,  straggling  little  roads  began  crawl- 
ing over  the  sand  and  adobe  houses  shot  by, 
then  they  multiplied,  and  presently  the  train 
drew  up  before  a  station.  It  was  the  city  of 
Aguas  Calientes  (Hot  Springs).  I  was  uncom- 
fortable whenever  we  approached  a  station,  for 
even  were  it  the  veriest  hamlet,  there  stood  the 
ubiquitous  soldier  with  his  forlorn  countenance 
and  baggy  uniform ;  and,  perfunctory  instru- 
ment though  he  was,  he  typified  power— the 
power  I  was  seeking  to  escape  from.  Moreover, 
this  was  a  po])ulous  city,  one  of  the  important 
centres  of  the  Mexican  police  and  secret  service. 

V  1.  X.-26, 


Over  twelve  hours  had  elapsed  since  the 
credulous  gendarme  must  have  returned  to 
my  room  in  search  of  "  my  husband,"  so  that  1 
knew  not  what  measures  might  have  been  set 
on  foot  for  my  capture. 

My  apprehensions  were  fully  justified,  for  as 
the    jjassengers    were    filing    out    of    the    car    I 
suddenly  saw  a  mass  of  red  and  blue   uniforms 
appear  orr  the  platform  in  front.    I  arose 
quietly  and  passed  out  at  the  rear  of  the 
coach  and  mingled  with  the  crowd  on 
the  platform.     I  feared  to  remain  tiiere, 
however,  and  at  the  first  0])por- 
t unity   joined    a    bevy  of    other 
"ladies"  who  were  just  boarding 
a  car  for  the  down-town  district. 
I   was  fairly  confident  of  my  dis- 
guise, but  even  if  I  had  not  been 
the  risk  iiad  to  be  taken. 

Here  I  must  perforce  tear  a 
leaf  from  my  narrative.  Ameri- 
cans still  resident  in  the  country, 
who  from  this  point  onwards 
became  implicated  in  my  flight, 
might  be  imperilled  were  any 
clues  given  as  to  their  identity. 
Suffice  it  to  say  that  I  soon 
abandoned  my  difficult  role  of 
woman,  and  played  the  part  of 
"  w'hite  "  man  and  Mexican. 
Once  I  was  e\en  shipped  in  a 
chest  as  "train  supplies"! 
Everywhere  I  went  I  heard  of 
houses  ransacked  and  trains 
searched  behind  me,  but  I 
escaped  capture  in  a  most 
miraculous  fashion.  I  heard,  moreover,  that 
my  paper  had  been  suppressed  directly  after  my 
escape. 

Six  days  after   leaving  the  capital  I  lowered 
myself  from   the   slowly-moving  train   about   a 
mile    south   of  the   twin   city   of   El    Paso  and 
Juarez,    on    the    border    between    the   United  ^ 
States  and  Mexico. 

The  train  slowed  up  sufficiently  to  let  me  drop 
and  then  thundered  on  as  before.  Trackless 
sand  and  alkali,  simmering  under  the  summer 
sun,  extended  to  the  horizon  on  all  sides,  un- 
broken, save  to  the  north,  where  a  cluster  of 
plastered  adobe  houses  were  to  be  seen.  I,  in 
appearance,  was  a  common  peon  labourer,  clad 
in  cast-off  clothes,  redeemed  in  their  ugliness 
solely  by  a  fine  new  sombrero  with  the  Mexican 
national  emblem  of  the  eagle  and  snake  worked 
in  silver  tinsel  on  the  side,  and  a  cord  of  the 
same  material  thrown  over  the  crown  ;  in  reality, 
of  course,  I  was  the  editor  of  the  Ttvo  Republics, 
a  fugitive  from  the  untold  horrors  of  the  Mexican 
dungeon,  fleeing  for  my  life  to  American  soil. 


VV^R'/iCi^ 


202 


THE    WIDE    WORLT)    MAGAZINE. 


I  left  the  railroad  to  the  right  and  trudged 
off,  intending  to  make  a  wide  circuit  through 
the  suburbs  and  cross  the  Rio  Grande  River 
west  of  the  city.  I  had  scarcely  entered  the 
municipal  limits  when  I  passed  around  the  end 
of  a  long,  low  adobe  house,  such 
as  is  commonly  occupied  by  a 
clan  of  peons.  It  was  the 
military  barracks  !  I  may  have 
exhibited  some  agitation  when  I 
saw  it,  or  my  bearing  may  have 
betrayed  my  disguise,  but  at  any 
rate  the  sentinel  stopped  sud-  • 
denly  in  his  course  and  a 
hubbub  arose  among  the  loung- 
ing soldiery  at  the  door.  I 
walked  rapidly  to  the  corner  of 
the  block,  my  heart  beating 
wildly,  and  then  ran  my  hardest. 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  irriga- 
tion ditches  and  market  gardens  that  I  finally 
stopped  for  breatli  and  to  take  my  bearings. 
I    scanned    everything    from   my  feet  to    the 
horizon,  but  there  was  neither  man  nor  beast 
to  be  seen,  only  an  occasional  "sand  devil," 
or    miniature   whirlwind,   rising   and    twisting 
itself  away.      A   row   of   willows,    scarcely  a 
quarter  of  a    mile  away,    marked    the 
river  bed,  and  beyond  and  above  rose 
a  flag  with    stripes   of  red  and   white 
proclaiming     an     American     Custom- 
house.     What  a  welcome  sight  it  was  ! 

Presently,  however,  I  saw  a  cloud  of 
dust  not  raised  by  the  wind,  and  from 
it  came  the  dull   thud  of  horses'  feet 
beating   the  sand.       Then    the 
bodies  of  three   horsemen  be- 
came  visible,    charging    madly 
up  the   valley   that   I  had  just 
traversed.     The  Mexicans  were 
hard  on  my  heels  ! 

Words  which    are  ordinarily 
used    to    describe    locomotion 
are  totally  inadequate  for  such 
occasions  as  these.     Ditches  I 
cleared  like   waggon    tracks   and 
boulders  like  pebi)les.     The  horse  of 
one  of  my  jjursuers  stumbled  and  fell 
with    his   rider    in    a   ditch,    but   the 
others    were   gradually    lessening    the 
distance  between  us.     Could  I   reach 
the  frontier  in  time  ?     I  should  have  welcomed 
the  river   had   it  been  a  sea,  for  I   knew  that 
they  could  not  follow  me  on   to  United  States 
territory.     But  the  river  was  dry   and  its   bed 


parched  and  cracked  by  the  sun.  I  leaped 
into  it  with  an  exuberance  unutterable,  and, 
turning  toward  my  pursuers,  I  shouted  and 
laughed  and  waved  my  sombrero  till,  baffled, 
they   turned   their    horses    sullenly  and    passed 


Iff 


^»J'.'«'CK'C)^o 


1  SHOUTED  AND  I.AL'(;ilFD  AM)  WAVED  MV  SOMnRERO.  ' 

out  of  my  sight  over  the  hill.  And  then  I 
yelled  again  with  joy  and  rolled  over  and  over 
in  the  .sand,  for  at  last  my  long  ordeal  was  at 
an  end  and  I  was  safe  in  my  own  country. 


^^^>-:^^ 


Tying  a  Horse  to    a    Hole  " — Fishing   in    the    Euphrates — An    Impressive   Funeral — President 
Roosevelt's  Invitation— The  Strange  H>story  of  the  "David" — Korean  Headgear,  etc.,  etc. 


exist,  an 
animals  is 
witli  all 
genuity,  failed 
to  originate  any- 
mean  s  of  suit- 
ably anchoring  his 
horse  on  the  desert ; 
but  the  Indians 
have  for  many  years 
employed  a  method 
that  is  at  once 
clever,  unique,  and 
effective.  They 
fasten  their  animals 
to  holes  in  the 
ground  !  During  a 
recent  trip  to  the 
desert  a  photo- 
grapher caught  an 
Indian  in  the  ver\- 
act  of  tying  u]) 
his  horse  in  this 
manner,   and  for 


N  the  great  Californian  deserts, 
with  their  vast  sand  wastes  and 
alkaline  beds,  v.here  neither  trees 
nor  shrubs  A\ill  grow,  and  where 
sticks  and  even  stones  do  not 
efficacious  method  of  tying  up 
hard  to  find.  The  white  man, 
his    in- 


TYINO   A    HORSE     lO    A    HOLE    — HOW 

From  a  PItoto.  by\  IN  THE 


the  first  time  a  photograph  was  taken  that 
illustrates  the  idea.  Kneeling  on  the  hot  sand 
the  Indian  began  to  dig  with  his  hands,  which 
were  as  hard  and  tough  and  impervious  to  pain 
as  a  dog's  paws.  He  worked  energetically  until 
he  had  made  a  hole  about  2ft.  deep.  He  then 
tied  an  immense  knot  in  the  end  of  the  halter 

rope,  lowered  it 
into  the  bottom  of 
the  hole,  refilled  the 
hole  with  sand,  and 
then  jumped  and 
stamped  upon  it  till 
the  earth  became 
solid  and  held  the 
knot  like  a  vice.  It 
was  a  curious  per- 
formance, but  the 
skill  of  the  idea 
merits  commenda- 
tion, for  unless  a 
horse  is  particularly 
restless  these  sub- 
terranean "hitching 
posts  "  will  perform 
their  duty  quite  as 
well  as  the  conven- 
tional arrangement 
of  civilization. 


THE     INDIANS    TIE     Ul 
DESERT. 


[C.  rUrce  Gy  Co. 


204 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


HMtlM, 

From  a\ 


1  IlK    Kl  I'HKA  1  l.^- 


■IFIli    liASKhl      l^l    I'UMItU    IN  JO      IHt    M  U  U,    A  Mj    ANY 


KISH    FOUND   INSIDE    REMOVED   THROUGH    THE   TOP. 


Every  country  seems  to  have  its  own  methods 
of  fishing.  '1  he  photograph  given  above  was 
taken  on  an  irrigation  canal  connected  with  the 
River  I'Aiphrates,  and  shows  how  the  natives  of 
that  locality  set  about  their  fishing  operations. 
The  fish  from  the  main  river  come  up  over 
the  foreshore  with  the  flood  tide,  and  as  the 
water  goes  down  with  the  ebb  they  collect 
in  the  numerous  creeks  and  canals  which 
irrigate  the  groves  of  date  palms.  l"he  mouths 
of  these  channels  are  closed  by  the  Arabs 
with  a  lattice 
of  reeds  so  that 
the  fish  cannot 
return  to  the 
river,  and  at  low 
water  the  fisher- 
m  e  n  go  a  f  ter 
ihem  equipped 
with  baskets 
similar  to  those 
shown  in  the 
[)  holograph. 
Every  two  or 
three  steps  the 
l)asket  is  plunged 
into  the  water  at 
rand  o  m  a  n  d 
thrust  Well  down 
intf)  the  mud, 
and  the  fish,  il 
one  hap[)ens  to 
be  underneath,  is 
then  taken  out 
by  hand  through 
the  hole  in  the 
top.  Half-a- 
dozen    may   be 


caught   in   this  way  within  five 
minutes. 

A  most  remarkable  and  impressive 
funeral  recently  took  place  at  Boston, 
Mass.,  U.S.A.  Previous  to  his  death 
a  well-known  old  pilot  captain  of 
the  city  sti[)ulated  in  his  will  that 
his  body  should  be  cremated  and 
the  ashes  scattered  to  the  winds 
from  the  deck  of  the  pilct  cutter  he 
loved  so  well.  It  was  a  beautiful 
day  when  the  pilot  boat  in  question, 
the  America,  put  to  sea  with  the 
ashes  of  the  old  captain  on  board, 
and  she  made  a  most  stalely  funeral 
hearse.  Away  past  Boston  Light  and 
out  to  the  lightship  she  sped,  and 
here  another  pilot  boat  came  off  her 
station  and  the  pilots  on  board  came 
over  to  the  America.  All  heads 
were  bared  as  the  ashes  were  borne 
from  the  cabin  to  the  deck,  and  the  flags  were 
lowered  to  half-mast  high.  The  pilot  in  whose 
hands  the  ashes  had  been  placed  raised  the  box 
containing  them  aloft,  and  after  a  few  remarks 
befitting  the  solemn  occasion  flung  them  far 
up  and  out  to  leeward.  Slowly  they  settled 
down  to  the  bottom  of  the  broad  Atlantic, 
which  thus  formed  the  final  resting-place  of 
him  who,  year  in  and  year  out,  had  guided 
ships  over  the  very  spot  where  his  bst  remains 
were  sinking  out  of  sight. 


{Photo. 


1  MK    Kt'M-  n.M. 

J'lom  a\ 


A    l;osi() 


IHOT-IN     HIS    WII.I.     UK     AM<i:U     IIIAT    HIS    ASHES    .MIGHT    HE    THKOWN    INTO   THE 
SEA    l-KO.M    THE    DECK   OK    HIS   OWN    CUTTER.  [J'holO. 


ODDS    AND    ENDS. 


205 


The  tumble- 
down old  chalet 
next  shown  is  the 
residence  of  a  lady 
millionaire.  Frau 
Busch,  the  lady  in 
question,  lives  at 
Davos-Dorf,  in  the 
Canton  (iraubiin- 
den,  Switzerland. 
Twenty- five  years 
ago  or  so,  when 
Davos  -  Platz  was 
first  beginning  to 
become  famous  as 
a  cure  place  for 
consumption,  she 
f o  u  n  d  that  t  h  e 
land  which  had 
descended   to  her 

from  her  forefathers  was  in  great  demand  for 
building  purposes.  Hotels  and  villas  now  stand 
on  what  were  for- 
merly her  mea- 
dows, and  the  old 
lady  woke  up  to 
find  herself  in 
possession  of  over 
a  million  francs, 
or  ^40,000.  Un- 
moved by  her 
good  fortune,  how- 
ever, she  still 
pursued  her  simple 
course  of  life,  dis- 
tributing milk  day 
by  day,  just  as  she 
did  before  riches 
came  to  her.  She 
even  condescend- 
ed, it  is  said,  to 
accept  occasional 
alms  from  stran- 
gers who  encoun- 
tered her  in  the 
street  and  were 
struck  b  y  h  e  r 
poverty  -  stricken 
appearance. 

Probably  the 
most  unique,  not 
to  say  remarkable, 
invitation  ever 
received  by  any 
dignitary  is  thai 
seen  in  the  accom- 
panying  photo- 
graph. It  was  sent 
to    Mr.   Theodore        ^>'">ta] 


I       I 


'  » 

i 


IHIS    MODEST    COTTAGE    IS   THE    RESIDENCE   OK    A    LADY    MILHO.NAIKE. 

From  a  Photo. 


A.N    I.NVITATION    WKn  TEN    O.N-    .\   CALl-lUUE. 


Roose\elt,  Presi- 
dent of  the  United 
States,  by  "  Ted- 
dy's Terrors,"  a 
"  Wild  West  "  club 
of  Los  Angeles, 
California.  The 
queer  "  card  "  re- 
f|uests  the  honour 
of  the  President's 
l)resence  at  La 
Fiesta,  an  annual 
celebration  at  Los 
Angeles.  The  in- 
vitation is  written 
upon  a  full-sized 
calf-hide,  with  the 
Roosevelt  ranch 
cattle  brands 
burned  in  on  the 
flank.  A  taxidermist  spent  three  months  curing 
the   skin.       Near   the   shoulders   the   hair   was 

scraped  away,  leav- 
ing a  spot  of  soft 
leather,  upon 
which  was  written 
the  invitation.  The 
skin  also  bore  a 
laughable  sketch 
of  the  President, 
mounted  on  a 
bear,  galloping  to 
Los  Angeles  in  a 
hurry,  his  pistol- 
holster  flying  out 
behind  and  a  look 
of  anticipation  on 
his  face.  The  in- 
vitation, couched 
in  typical  cowboy 
slang,  runs  as 
follows  :  "  We're 
going  to  have  a 
round-up,  and  we 
shore  want  yer 
mighty  bad.  Feed 
and  water  plenty ; 
stock's  fat. 
lirandin'  irons 
ready  when  yer 
get  here.  Come 
on,  will  yer  ?  For 
Theodore  Roose- 
velt, the  Presi- 
dent, Washington, 
1 ).(".' 

On  an  old 
Spanish  fort  at 
I  he  back  of  New 


[Photo. 


2o6 


THE   WIDE   WORLD   MAGAZINE. 


Orleans  stands  the  wreck  of  a  boat,  a  reminder 
of  one  of  the  forlornest  hopes  upon  which  men 
ever  ventured.  It  is  the  counterpart  of  the 
David,  the  submarine  that  sank  the  Housafonk 
off  Charleston  Harbour  on  February  17th,  1864. 
The  boat  seen  in  our  photograph  was  being 
constructed  secretly  when  New  Orleans  fell 
before  the  fleet  of  Farragut,  the  Northern 
commander,  and  to  save  its  design  the  Con- 
federates rolled  it  into  a  swamp  near  by,  its 
designers  barely  escaping  them.selves.  It  re- 
mained there  for  years— even  after  the  war — 
for  its  builders,  and  all  who  knew  of  its  exist- 
ence, went  down  with  its  sister  ship,  the  David. 


ONE  OK   ■IHE   FIRST   SUBMARINES   EVER    BUILT — JT    HAS  A  MOST    INTERESTING   HISTORY. 

From  a  Photo. 


crew  had  just  entered  the  boat  and  had  not 
closed  down  the  little  hatchway  in  the  conning- 
tower,  when  the  swell  from  a  passing  steamer 
washed  over  and  into  the  boat  and  sank  it. 
She  went  down,  drowning  all  hands  except  the 
lieutenant,  who,  being  in  the  conning -tower 
about  to  steer  the  boat,  escaped.  The  David 
was  raised,  and  Lieutenant  Paine  again  volun- 
teered to  navigatfc  her.  While  lying  near  Fort 
Sumpter,  preparing  for  a  second  start,  she 
capsized.  Six  of  her  crew  who  were  already 
within  were  drowned.  Then  Mr.  Aunley,  one 
of  her  designers,  took  command  of  her  and 
went    for   a    trial    trip    up    Cooper    River    past 

Charleston.  When  sub- 
merged, it  is  supposed 
at  great  depth,  she  refused 
to  answer  her  rudder,  and 
the  air  supply,  which 
would  last  only  thirty 
minutes,  was  exhausted. 
The  boat  was  raised  and 
found  with  nine  suffocated 
men  within.  And  still  a 
fourth  crew  volunteered 
to  go  aboard  the  ill-fated 
vessel  !  It  was  just  at 
twilight  on  February  17th 
that  the  look-out  on  the 
NoHsafo?iic,  on  the  outer 
line  of  the  blockade,  and 
the  largest  ship  of  the 
fleet,  descried  a  small 
cylindrical  object  a  few 
hundred  yards  away.  He 
hailed  it  ;  there  was  no 
reply.      Again   he  hailed 


Years  after,  when  the  channel  was  being 
deepened,  it  was  found,  raised  to  the  surface, 
and  set  amid  the  ruins  of  the  fort.  The 
tale  of  the  David  was  only  an  incident  in 
the  great  C\\\\  War,  and  finds  no  place  in  his- 
tory except  an  occasional  foot-note,  though  it 
was  the  delfiit  of  a  class  of  craft  that  to-day 
threatens  to  make  the  ironclad  useless.  The 
David  was  so  named  because  it  was  designed 
to  slay  the  (loliaths  of  the  Northern  fleet 
engaged  in  the  blockade.  It  was  of  the  accus- 
tomed cigar-shape  in  appearance  almost  iden- 
tical with  the  submarine  of  the  present  dav. 
It  was  35ft.  long,  and  built  of  boiler  iron.  The 
propulsion  was  by  hand.  The  crew  consisted 
of  nine  men  eight  to  grind  the  propeller  and 
one  to  steer.  It  dragged  its  torpedo  after  it. 
As  soon  as  the  David  was  launched  Lieutenant 
Paine,  of  the  Confederate  navy,  volunteered  to 
command  her  in  an  attack  upon  the  United 
States  fleet  in  Charleston  Harbour.     The  first 


It  ;    still    there    was    no 


reply.  He  shoutea  to  the  officer  of  the  deck. 
Immediately  the  call  to  quarters  sounded. 
The  mysterious  object  was  then  too  close  for 
the  range  of  the  large  guns,  but  rifles  and  pistols 
were  turned  loose  upon  it.  They  had  no  effect. 
A  few  yards  from  the  Hotisafojiic  the  thing  tilled 
forward  and  disappeared.  A  barrel-like  object 
rushed  on  in  its  wake.  In  a  moment  more  it 
struck  the  Housatoiiic.  Simultaneously  there 
came  a  fearful  explosion.  The  ship  reeled, 
pitched,  and  sank  bow  on.  Most  of  her  crew 
were  rescued  from  the  rigging  by  the  small 
boats  from  the  rest  of  the  fleet.  As  for  the 
David,  she  dived  her  last.  She  never  came  to 
the  surface  again,  not  even  long  enough  for  her 
crew  to  see  that  they  had  accomplished  their 
desperate  purpose. 

Our  next  photograph  shows  three  kinds  of 
headgear  commonly  worn  in  Korea.  The  man 
on  the  left  has  on  the  ''mourner's"  hat,  which 
is   manufactured    from    bamboo,  and   should  be 


ODDS    AND    EMDS. 


io7 


KORFAN    HE.4 
From  d\ 


-THESE    HATS    ANK   THE     DISTINCTIVE     BADCJES   OF   THKEB 
CI  AShES    OF     I  HE   CO.MMUNITV.  [P/tOto. 


cluiich  towers  were  occupied  by  the 
(iovernment  troops  for  purposes  of 
defence,  and  in  consequence  came  in 
for  a  hot  bombardment  at  the  hands 
of  the  rebels.  As  will  be  seen,  the 
tower  shown  in  our  illustration — that 
of  the  Church  of  San  Auguslin — is 
pitted  in  all  directions  with  bullet 
marks,  and  the  big  bell  inside  was 
smashed  to  pieces  by  a  well  -  aimed 
shell. 

\\'e  published  recently  in  this  section 
an  amusing  little  photograph  showing 
how  roads  are  made  in  the  East,  and* 
the  snap-shot  reproduced  at  the  top 
of  the  next  page  is  interesting  in  the 
same  connection.  The  picture  shows 
one  of  the  curious  hand-drawn  water- 
carls  used  in  Madras.  'I'hese  vehicles 
are  pulled  along  by  coolies,  and  would 
cause  quite  a  sensation  if  seen  in  an 
English  city.    As  the  roads  are  perfectly 


worn  hy  every  Korean  for  a  period  of 
three  years  after  the  death  of  either 
parent,  Its  height  is  2ft.,  and  it  is 
6ft.  in  circumference.  The  man  in 
the  middle  has  on  the  "labourer's"' 
or  "countryman's"  hat.  This  huge, 
tent-like  hat  is  lift,  in  circumference 
and  3ft.  high.  It  is  made  from  a 
species  of  rushes.  The  names  under 
which  it  is  known  designate  the 
classes  of  people  that  wear  it.  The 
third  hat  is  known  as  the  "  pedlar's  " 
hat,  and  is  worn  only  by  the  members 
of  the  Pedlars'  Society.  It  is  manu- 
factured from  bamboo.  The  brim  is 
about  5in.  wide,  the  crown  is  also 
about  5in.  wide  and  about  the  same 
height,  and  its  circumference  is  about 
48in.  The  size  of  this  hat  varies,  but 
the  dimensions  given  are  about  the 
average. 

Revolutions  of  one  sort  or  another 
are  almost  a  daily  feature  in  the  life  of 
some  of  the  turbulent  South  American 
republics.  A  man  hardly  knows  when 
he  gels  up  in  the  morning  whether  he 
will  not  find  a  change  of  (government 
has  taken  place,  either  with  or  without 
fighting.  The  next  photograph  we 
reproduce  is  a  good  example  of  the 
insecurity  of  life  and  property  when 
a  revolution  docs  break  out.  In 
March,  1895,  a  revolution  took  place 
in  Lima,  the  capital  of  Peru,  and  in 
three  days  over  2,000  soldiers  were 
killed  in  the  streets  of  the  city.     The 


UtVU..l.T.»N      OMSKKVB   THF    laM-KT    .M AKKS  O.N  1  HK  CHLKC.I  ToWKK. 
front  a  Phvto, 


2o8 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


level  the  labour  is 
not  really  very 
hard,  and  the 
authorities  evi- 
dently find  that 
the  wor'.c  is  done 
satisfactorily,  as 
they  do  not  seem 
anxious  to  intro- 
duce any  other 
motive  power. 

'I'lie  making  of 
the  records  is  un 
■doubtedly  the  most 
interesting  depart- 
ment in  the  manu- 
facture of  that 
wonderful  little 
talking  machine, 
the  phonograph. 
All    the    large 

makers  now  employ  a  staff  of  ex[K'rts  to  play, 
speak,  and  sing  into  the  recording  machines. 
The  photograph  reproduced  herewith  depicts  a 
scene  in  the  recording  de[)artmeiil  of  the  I'^dison 
Phonograph  Manufacturing  Company,  of  New 
York.  It  is  curious  to  note  the  way  in  which 
the  players  are  grouped  around  the  horns,  so 
that  the  volume  of  sound  from  each  instrument 
may  strike  full  upon  the  recording  machines. 
As  soon  as  the  record  is  made  it  is  sent  to 
another  department,  where  it  is  tested  by  a  corps 


of  skilled  work- 
men, who  throw 
out  every  record 
tliat  gives  the 
slightest  sugges- 
tion of  a  defect. 
The  recording  de- 
partment is  always 
busy  making  new 
"  literature  "  ;  and 
it  is  interesting  to 
know  that  band 
records  are  by 
far  the  most 
pc)[)uhir.  The 
linn  in  question 
boasts  of  possess- 
ing 500,000  wax 
cylinders,  repre- 
,  ,1  ,.  '^      senting  thousands 

of  different  sub- 
jects. In  the  manufacture  of  the  cylinders, 
on  which  the  records  are  made,  a  special 
kind  of  wax  is  used.  It  is  melted  in  large 
vats,  each  of  which  holds  about  i,ooolb.  of 
the  li(]uid.  There  are  generally  three  melt- 
ings in  all,  and  between  each  the  fluid  is 
carefully  strained  to  remove  any  hard  or  gritty 
impurities  which  it  might  contain,  for  the 
presence  of  foreign  substances,  or  even  a  few 
particles  of  dust,  would  seriously  affect  the 
])roduction  of  a  good  record. 


I'roni  n\ 


MAKl:.(;    A    riloNOGKAl  II 


I'.AMi    mxoi.i, 


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"WiiKN    1    ii.\i>    I  \ki;n'    KK.iii    sii.rs    I    I  ii;i;i)   <»\ki<    mv   sii<)1'i.i>i.k.'' 

(sKK  i'A(;k  214  ) 


The  Wide  World  Magazine. 


\^ol.  X. 


JANUARY,    1903. 


No.  57. 


The    Hunting   of   Harry   Tracy. 

\\\     \\lI.I.I.\.M    .M.\CLEOD    Kaink,    of    Df.nvkr,    CoI.OR.-\I)0. 

An  account  of  the  most  remarkable  man-hunt  which  has  ever  taken  place  in  America.  Harry  Tracy, 
a  murderer  and  burglar,  escaped  from  prison  after  killing  three  of  his  guards,  and  for  over  two 
months  defied  all  efforts  tj  arrest  him.  He  "held  up"  farms  for  food  and  clothing,  went  on  a  trip 
in  a  steam-launch  which  he  seized  by  force,  and  escaped  time  after  time  from  apparently  certain  capture. 
Everywhere  Tracy  went  he  left  a  trail  of  blood   behind  him,  ajid  he  died  fighting  to  the  last. 


HE  iiKj.sl  thrilling  man-hunt  America 
has  ever  known  began  on  the  morn- 
ing of  Jutie  9th,  at  the  gates  of  the 
Oregon  J'enitentiary,  and  continued 
with  unabated  vigour  until  Augu.st 
5lh.  ICarly  on  June  9th  Harry  Tracy,  nmrderer 
and  convicted  burglar,  assisted  by  his  partner, 
David  Merrill,  escaped  from  prison  after  killing 
three  guards,  wounding  a.  fourth,  and  shattering 
the  leg  of  an- 
other prisoner 
who  attempted 
to  wrest  from 
him  the  rifle  witii 
which  he  was 
armed.  Since 
that  time  this 
keen  -  eyed,  re- 
sourceful, and 
desperate  outlaw 
has  written  in 
blood  the  most 
thrilling  drama 
that  was  ever 
enacted  in  real 
life.  No  "penny 
dreadful  "  ever 
bristled  with 
such  fascinating 
impossibilities;  no  character  in  fiction  ever 
combined  with  such  wonderful  nerve  and  daring 
so  much  shrewdness,  dogged  determination, 
deadly  skill  with  weapons,  and  knosvledge 
of  human  nature  as  was  displayed  by  the 
outlaw  Tracy.  To  say  that  not  once,  during 
the  montlis  in  which  he  has  been  hunted 
by  hundreds  of  armed  men  and  by  blood- 
hounds, has  he  shown  the  white  feather,  or 
even  the  slightest  excitement,  is  to   tell  but  a 

Vol.  X.— 27. 


I  iili    I  ■  '1. 11^ 


small  part  of  the  truth.  Many  men  on  the 
Western  frontier  might  emulate  his  coolness  and 
nerve,  but  not  one  of  them  could  parallel  his 
smiling  audacity,  his  contempt  .""or  fearful  odds, 
the  skill  with  which  he  eluded  his  pursuers,  and 
the  unfailing  accuracy  with  which  he  executed 
his  carefully-planned  manoeuvres.  U'henever 
the  arm  of  the  law  has  been  stretched  forth  to 
gather   him  in,   Trncy,  like  a  tiger  at   bay,   has 

shown  his  teeth 
and  bitten  so 
suddenly  and  so 
fearfully  that 
b  r  a  \"  e  men 
stood  aghast. 
His  fight  for 
liberty  has  been 
the  most  des- 
perate in  the 
(  riminal  annals 
of  America. 
The  exploits  of 
t  h  e  fa  ni  o  u  s 
Jesse  J  a  ni  e  s 
gang  are  not  to 
be  compared 
with  the  lurid 
escape  a  n  d 
subsequent  pur- 
suit of  Harry  Tracy  across  hundreds  of  miles 
of  unfriendly  country.  For  daring,  fertility  of 
resource,  and  cold-blooded  nerve  his  fight  for 
liberty  against  almost  impossible  numbers  is 
without  a  parallel.  Hunted  by  thousands  of 
armed  men,  with  a  reward  of  eight  thousand 
dollars  on  his  head,  dead  or  alive,  Tracy  has 
for  months  defied  capture,  leavirg  dead  and 
wounded  men  behind  him  whenc\er  he  has 
been  hard  pressed. 


ILS    wl-      IIAKK'l 


212 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


IHACV    NOW   TUKNF.D    UI'ON    THE   OTIIKK   GUAKDS    AND    I'.KGAN    SHOOTING. 


On  June  9th,  1902,  the  foundry  gang  of 
prisoners  at  the  Saleni  (Oregon)  Penitentiary  was 
marclied  to.  its  work  as  usual  by  Guards  (Jirard 
and  Ferrell.  The  convicts  were  counted  in  and 
announced  as  all  present  by  Girard.  While  the 
words  were  still  on  his  lips  a  rifle-shot  echoed 
through  the  yard,  and  Ferrell  fell  forward  with  a 
cry  of  agony.  He  had  been  killed  by  Harry 
Tracy,  a  convict,  who  had  already  murdered 
two  men  in  Colorado  and  was  serving  a 
twenty  years'  sentence  for  burglary  along  with 
an  accomplice  named  David  Merrill.  Tracy, 
seconded  by  his  partner  in  crime,  now  turned 
upon  the  other  guards  and  began  shooting.  A 
life  prisoner,  Ingram  liy  name,  leaped  upon 
Tracy  with  the  intention  of  disarming  him,  but 
was  immediately  shot  down  by  Merrill.  In  the 
confusion  the  two  desperate  men  scaled  the 
prison  wall  by  means  of  a  ladder  which  they 
found  near  at  hand.  Once  over  they  turned 
their  attention  to  the  fence  guards.  S.  R. 
Jones,  |)atrolling  the  north-west  corner  of  the 
stockade,  fL-U  pierced  by  two  bullets.  Another 
guard,  Duncan  Ross,  was  wounded.  (Juard 
'i'iffiny  cm|)tiLd  his  rifle  at  the  men,  l)ut  failed 
to  hit  his  mark.      He  was  himself  wounded  and 


ft'll  from  the  wall  to 
the  ground,  where 
he  was  picked  up  by 
the  two  escaping 
prisoners,  who 
calmly  used  him  as 
a  shield  while  they 
retreated  to  the 
woods.  At  the  edge 
of  the  forest  they 
shot  him,  took  his 
•  ifle,  and  disap- 
[)eared  into  the 
underbrush. 

Tracy  and  Merrill 
were  well  armed  with 
short  Winchesters, 
which  it  is  thought 
must  have  been 
secretly  supplied  to 
them  by  sympa- 
thizers who  visited 
the  prison  in  the 
guise  of  excursion- 
ists. They  had 
already  killed  three 
men  in  order  to 
escape,  and  while  at 
liberty  were  a 
menace  to  the  com- 
m  u  n  i  t  y .  So  an 
urgent  call  was  sent 
f  o  r  assistance. 
.Sheriff  Durbin,  with  a  heavily  armed  posse, 
immediately  answered  the  telephone  message 
sent  him,  and  appeared  at  the  prison  to  assist 
Superintendent  Lee,  of  the  penitentiary,  in 
recapturing  the  escaped  convicts. 

The  two  criminals,  however,  managed  to 
elude  pursuit  during  the  whole  of  the  day,  ana 
under  cover  of  night  passed  through  Salem. 
Here  they  "held  up"  a  man  named  J.  W. 
Stewart,  made  him  disrobe,  and  took  his 
clothing.  Later  an  express  man  named  Welch 
discarded,  at  their  orders,  an  overcoat  and  a 
pair  of  overalls  ;  and  the  stable  of  one  Lelix 
Labaucher  furnished  them  with  two  fast  horses. 
One  notable  fact  in  the  escape  of  the  desperado 
Tracy  is  the  fear  which  he  somehow  managed 
to  instil  into  the  minds  of  the  hardy  frontiers- 
men among  whom  he  lived  for  the  next  two 
months,  and  which  stood  him  in  good  stead  on 
many  occasions  when  hard  pressed. 

Heavily  armed,  in  citizens'  clothing,  and 
mounted  on  good  hor.ses,  the  convicts  were  now 
pre[)ared  to  make  a  stubborn  fight  for  liberty. 
No  more  dangerous  criminal  than  Tracy,  in  fact, 
was  ever  turned  loose  upon  a  community.  He  was 
a  dead  shot  and  did  not   know  what  fear  meant. 


THE     HUXriX(i     OF     liARK\'      I'RACV. 


Bloodhounds  from  the  Washington  State 
Penitentiary  followccl  the  scent  of  the  fugitives 
for  some  time,  but  fmally  lost  it.  The  pair 
were  seen  next  morning  at  Brooks,  a  station  on 
the  Southern  Pacific  Railway  eight  miles  north 
of  Salem.  During  the  night  they  had  found  it 
necessary  to  get  rid  of  their  horses.  On  June 
nth  the  two  men  were  surrounded  by  a  posse 
of  fifty  men  near  Ger- 
vais.  They  were  still 
on  the  line  of  the 
Southern  Pacific  and 
were  headed  north  for 
the  State  of  Washing- 
ton viii  Portland.  The 
cou[)le  were  known  to 
be  exceedingly  well 
armed,  for  during  the 
night  they  had  had  the 
audacity  to  "hold  up" 
two  of  the  pursuing 
posse  and  relieve  them 
of  their  weapons  ! 
Before  noon  a  hun- 
dred men  surrounded 
the  woods  in  which  the 
men  lurked.  Every 
man  within  a  radius  of 
ten  miles  who  pos- 
sessed a  gun  was  sum- 
moned to  join  the 
posse,  and  Company  F 
of  the  Oregon  State 
National  Ckiards  also 
arrived  upon  the 
scene.  A  complete 
cordon  surrounded  the 
apparently  doomed 
men,  but  during  the 
night  the  two  des- 
peradoes slipped 
silently  through  the 
lines  and  escaped. 

They  were  next  seen 
at  the  house  of  a  Mrs. 
Akers,  where  they 
forced  the  farmer's 
wife  to  prepare  them 
a  good  breakfast. 
After  they  had  gone 
the  farmer  telephoned 
to  Sheriff  Durbin 
who  came  on  at  once 
with  his   posse  and  the   bloodhounds. 

The  escaped  prisoners  pressed  forward  to 
Clackamas  County,  where  Sheriff  (Jook  with  a 
posse  and  three  companies  of  Militia  took  uj) 
the  chase.  As  they  continued  north  the 
desperadoes    "  lived    on   the  country,"   holding 


DURING    THE   NIGHT    THE   TWO    DESPERADOES   SLUTED   THROUGH 
THE    LINES  " 


up  farms  for  food  and  horses  as  they 
travelled.  They  always  boldly  announced  who 
they  were.  A  dozen  times  they  were  shot  at, 
several  times  they  were  surrounded,  and  once 
Tracy  fired  and  "  winged  "  one  of  his  pursuers. 
The  reward  for  the  capture  of  the  convicts 
was  doubled,  and  doubled  again,  and  public 
excitement   grew  intense.      Kor   five   days   the 

sheriff  and  his  posse 
continued  the  chase, 
and  then  gave  up, 
weary  and  discouraged. 
Meanwhile  Tracy 
had  forced  a  farmer 
at  the  muzzle  of  his 
revolver  to  row  him 
and  his  com[)anion 
across  the  Columbia 
River  into  Washington. 
They  dined  at  the 
house  of  a  farmer 
named  Peedy,  whom 
they  tied  and  gagged 
before  leaving.  Sheriff 
Marsh,  of  Clarke 
County,  with  a  very 
large  force,  took  up 
the  chase  with  energy. 
A  four-cornered  duel 
took  place  between 
the  fugitives  and  two 
of  the  posse  who  came 
in  touch  with  them, 
but  the  convicts  again 
escaped  unhurt.  For 
some  days  after  this 
episode  their  trail  was 
completely  lost. 

It  was  on  July  2nd 
that  Tracy  reappeared 
to  enact  the  most  stir- 
ring scenes  of  his 
melodramatic  career. 
He  had  been  heading 
for  the  Puget  Sound 
country,  and  after 
"  holding  up  "  a  farmer 
or  two  for  practice  he 
modestly  decided  to 
honour  the  city  of 
Seattle  with  a  visit.  It 
was  early  morning,  and 
the  sun  was  just  break- 
ing throuuh  the  mist  and  fog  that  hung  over 
South  Bay,  near  Olympia,  the  State  capital,  when 
a  man  entered  the  tent  of  an  oyster  fishery 
company  and  ordered  Mr.  HoraUo  Ajling,  the 
manager,  and  his  two  i" 
meal. 


I,)  furnish    hini  a 


214 


THE    WIDE    WORLD     MAGAZINE. 


"  I'm  Tracy,  the  convict,"  said  the  stranger. 
"  I  want  sometliing  to  eat  right  away.  Be  ([uiet, 
raise  no  fuss,  and  I  won't  harm  you." 

A  launch  lay  at  anchor  near  the  tent,  and 
Tracy  ordered  one  of  the  men  to  call  her 
captain  to  breakfast.  The  convict  waited  coolly 
till  Captain  Clark  and  his  son  had  finished 
breakfast,  and  then  ordered  Clark  to  get  up 
steam  at  once,  as  he  desired  to  go  to  Seattle. 
Before  leaving  he  tied  Mr.  Ailing  and  the  cook 
hand  and  foot  and  hel[)ed  himself  to  any  clothes 
that  took  his  fancy.  During  the  launch  ride  to 
Seattle  Tracy  remained  at  one  end  of  the  little 
cabin,  his  gun  resting  in  his  lap  ready  for  use  in 
case  any  of  the'  actions  of  his  crew  appeared  to 
him  suspicions.  For  twelve  hours  the  bandit 
was  complete  master  of  the  situation.  He  was 
easy,  unconcerned,  and  debonair,  ready  to  joke 
and  to  laugh  with  his  unwilling  servants,  but  his 
steely  eyes  never  relaxed  their  vigilance  for  a 
moment.  Someone  asked  him  where  his  partner 
Merrill  was. 

Tracy's  face  set  hard. 

"I  killed  him,"  he  answered,  quietly. 

"Killed  him?"  reiterated  his  questioner,  in 
surprise. 

"  Yes,  I  killed  him.  He  had  no  nerve  and 
he  was  a  traitor.  I  read  in  the  Portland  papers 
after  our  escape  that  it  was  due  to  information 
from  Merrill  that  I  was  caught  in  the  first  place 
— that  time  I  stole  the  engine  and  was  knocked 
senseless  by  a  glancing  shot.  Merrill  had  told 
them  where  they  could  find  me.  Then,  too,  he 
was  a  coward,  always  ready  to  bolt.  He  was  no 
good.  The  man  was  frightened  to  death  all  the 
time.  It  made  me  angry  when  the  papers  gave 
him  half  the  credit  for  our  escape.  I  told  him 
he  was  a  coward  and  he  got  huffy.  Then  we 
decided  to  fight  a  duel  when  we  were  near 
Ciiehalis.  We  were  to  start  back  to  back  and 
walk  ten  paces  each,  then  wheel  round  and 
begin  firing.  He  haggled  so  in  arranging  the 
terms  that  I  knew  he  meant  to  play  false.  I 
couldn't  trust  him,  so  when  I  had  taken  eight 
steps  I  fired  over  my  shoulder.  I  hit  him 
in  the  back.  The  first  shot  did  not  finish 
him,  so  I  shot  again.  He  only  got  what  he 
deserved.  The  fellow  meant  to  kill  me 
treacherously,  and  steal  out  of  the  country 
llirough  the  big  timber,  leaving  my  dead  body 
among  the  leaves." 

The  finding  of  Merrill's  body  two  weeks 
later  proved  the  truth  of  'I'racy's  treachery 
toward  his  companion.  lie  had  evidently 
found  that  the  other  man  was  losing  his  nerve, 
and  had  got  rid  of  him  to  save  fiirther  trouble. 

All  day  Tracy  dis[)layed  the  greatest  care- 
lessness in  regard  to  human  life.  At  one 
time    he    desired  the  captain  of  the  launch   to 


run  in  close  to  McNeil's  Island,  where  a 
Government  nnlitary  prison  is  located,  in 
order  that  he  might  get  a  potshot  at  one  of 
the  guards.  During  the  day  he  dozed 
slightly  once  or  twice,  but,  as  his  lifle  was 
across  his  lap  and  the  slightest  movement 
awakened  him,  the  crew  dared  not  interfere 
with  him.  At  Meadow  Point,  near  the  city 
of  Seattle,  Tracy  finished  his  yachting  trip, 
tied  the  captain  and  crew  up,  and  went  ashore, 
forcing  one  of  the  terrified  men  to  accom[)any 
him  as  a  guide.  The  ascendency  this  man 
acquired  over  everybody  he  met  is  remarkable. 

The  outlaw  headed  toward  the  north  end  of 
Lake  Washington,  and  was  recognised  more 
than  once  before  he  reached  Bothell.  Here  he 
lay  hidden  till  morning  in  the  dense  brush  and 
secured  some  much-needed  sleep.  It  was 
raining  hard,  but  there  is  no  doubt  that  the 
escaped  convict  found  shelter  from  the  storm 
under  some  big  logs.  Meanwhile  Seattle  was 
full  of  wild  rumours  about  Tracy.  Every  stray 
tramp  was  an  o'oject  of  suspicion,  and  the 
greatest  excitement  prevailed  among  the  people. 
Before  night  the  excitement  had  increased 
tenfold.  Harry  Tracy,  it  was  reported,  had 
come  into  touch  with  two  posses,  had  engaged 
in  battle  with  them,  killed  three  ofticers  and 
wounded  one,  and  had  himself  escaped  unhurt  ! 

Persistent  reports  came  to  the  city  of  Tracy's 
presence  near  Bothell.  It  was  said  that  he  was 
surrounded  in  a  brickyard  ;  that  he  had  several 
times  been  definitely  identified  by  men  who  saw 
him  skulking  in  the  heavy  timber.  Sheriff 
Cudihee,  of  King  County,  a  fearless  and 
efficient  ofticer  who  had  a  good  record  for 
running  down  criminals,  at  once  ordered  i)Osses  to 
the  scene  and  hastened  there  himself.  It  may 
be  stated  in  passing  that  from  that  moment  to 
the  time  of  Tracy's  death  Sheriff  Cudihee  hung 
doggedly  to  the  trail  of  the  flying  bandit. 
Other  sheriffs  took  up  the  hunt  and  dropped  it 
when  the  convict  had  passed  out  of  their 
bailiwicks,  but  ('udihee  alone  followed  him  like  a 
l)loodhound  wherever  he  went  until  the  cjuestion 
of  Tracy's  escape  or  capture  came  to  be  a 
l)ersonal  issue  between  Edward  C'udihee  and 
Harry  Tracy,  two  of  the  most  fearless  and 
determined  men  that  ever  carried  a  gun. 

At  Bothell  the  posse  sepnrated  and  every 
road  was  guarded.  Two  ofiicials  from  ]'>vciett, 
several  from  Seattle,  and  Mr.  Louie  15.  Sefrit,  a 
reporter  for  the  Seattle  Ti/iies^  started  down  the 
road  toward  Pontiac,  part  of  them  following  the 
railway  track  and  part  the  waggon  road.  About 
a  himclrcd  yards  southeast  of  where  the  railroad 
track  and  the  waggon  road  cross  again  there  are 
two  small  cabins  standing  in  a  yard  whic:h  is  much 
overgrown  with  grass,  weeds,  and  old  tree-stumps. 


THE     HUNTING    OF    H.\kK\'     IKACV. 


2'5 


Three  men,  named  Williams,  Brewer, and  Nelson, 
jumped  through  a  wire  fence  and  started  toward 
the  cabins,  while  the  otliers  went  down  the  track 
to  examine  the  cabins  from  that  side.  Said  one 
Raymond  to  Sefrit,  the  reporter  : — 

"I  believe  'I'racy  is  in  that  yard." 

Sefrit  answered  that  he  thought  so  too,  for 
the  grass  had  been  freshly  beaten  down.  He 
pointed  to  a  black  stump  some  five  yards  in 
front  of  him.  Like  all  tree-stumps  in  the  Puget 
Sound  country,  it  had  been  partly  burnt. 

"  That's  exactly  where  I  believe  he  is,"'  said 
Raymond.      "  Let's " 

He  never  finished  the  sentence.  From  behind 
the  stump  arose  Tracy  himself,  his  rifle  at  his 
shoulder.  There  came  a  flash,  and  Anderson, 
one  of  the  deputies,  fell.  Still  another  spit  of 
flame  belched  from  the  rifle,  and  Raymond  fell 
back  with   a  stifled   cry.      He   was    quite    dead 


service  a  farmer  named  Louis  Johnson,  with  his 
waggon.  He  forced  the  farmer  to  drive  him  to 
Fremont,  which  is  a  suburb  of  Seattle.  By 
this  time  the  escaped  convict  was  very  hungry. 
He  made  Johnson  hitch  his  team  to  the  fence 
outside  the  home  of  Mrs.  R.  H.  \'an  Horn, 
and  then  invited  himself  to  dinner.  Mrs.  \'an 
Horn  at  once  recognised  Tracy  from  liis 
[)ul)lished  pliotograph. 

"  What  do  you  want?"  she  aSked. 

"  Food,  madam,  and  clothing,"  returned  the 
urbane  murderer.  It  chanced  that  there  was  a 
man  named  Butterfield  in  the  house,  and  from 
him  Tracy  cooTy  took  the  dry  clothing  which  he 
wore.  lieing  in  a  good  humour,  the  bandit 
drop[)ed  into  the  kitchen  and  conversed  with 
Mrs.  \'an  Horn  while  she  prepared  his  meal  for 
him. 

'•  I  have  never  '  held  up  '  a  lady  before,"  he 


THE   HOME   OF   MRS,    K 

From  a] 


\AN    HORN — THE    CROSS   INDICATES  THE   SI'OT   W  lll.kL:    IKACV   >ilijr 
GAME   WAIJUEN'    KAWI.EY. 


[PilOtO. 


before  help  reached  hmi.  Sefrit  took  a  shot  at 
the  desperado  with  a  Colt's  revolver,  whereupon 
Tracy  wheeled  and  let  drive  at  him.  Sefrit, 
reaUzing  that  he  was  in  an  exposed  position,  fell 
as  if  shot.  'The  outlaw  fired  again  at  him,  then 
waited  watchfully  to  make  sure  he  had  killed 
his  man.  A  bunch  of  grass  lay  between  Sefrit's 
head  and  Tracy,  but  the  reporter  could  see  the 
convict  crouching  behind  the  stump  and  knew 
that  the  slightest  movement  meant  death.  So 
for  some  minutes  the  Times  reporter  lay  there 
in  an  agony  of  suspense,  expecting  every 
moment  to  feel  a  bullet  tearing  through  his 
breast.  Then  'Tracy  slowly  began  to  back  away 
in  the  drenching  rain.  Two  more  shots  rang 
out,  and  Jack  \\'illiams,  who  had  been  coming 
forward  from  the  rear,  fell  desperately  wounded. 
'Tracy  scudded  away  in  the  thick  underbrush, 
and  half  a  mile  from  the  scene  of  battle  re- 
lieved a  rancher  of  a  horse  he  was  riding. 
This  he  presently  discarded,  impressing  into  his 


explained,  while  eating  the  food.  "  I  don't 
want  to  have  to  tie  you  when  I  leave.  Will 
you  promise  not  to  say  anything  about  my 
having  been  here  ?  '' 

"For  to-night  I  will  but  not  tomorrow 
morning,''  answered  the  plucky  little  woman. 

"  'That  will  be  all  right,"  said  'Tracy  ;  "  I'll  be 
far  enough  away  by  then.  I  want  to  tell  you, 
madam,  that  I  haven't  enjoyed  a  meal  so  much 
in  three  years."  He  then  mentioned  his 
'yachting  trip,"  as  he  called  it,  from  Olvmpia 
to  Seattle. 

At  8. 30  o'clock  a  knock  came  at  ine  u"ui. 
Mr.  Butterfield  answered  it  and  s.iid  that  it  was 
the  grocery  boy. 

"  If  you  tell  him  anything  ii  will  mean  tlealh 
to  the  men  here,"  'Tracy  told  Mrs.  \'an  Horn, 
significantly,  as  she  went  to  give  her  orders  to 
the  boy. 

Nevertheless,  she  took  occasii«n  to  nod  her 
head    toward    the     loor   and    whisper    the    one 


2l6 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


-.*» 


word  "Tracy"  to  the  boy.  He  understood, 
and  two  minutes  later  was  lashing  his  horse 
along  the.  road  toward  Fremont.  When  Tracy 
rose  to  depart  an  hour  later  Sheriff  Cudihee 
lay  in  ambush  within  six  feet  of  the  Johnson 
waggon. 

Tracy  thanked  Mrs.  Van  Horn  for  his  meal  in 
courteous  fashion,  then  stepped  down  the  path 
to  the  road  with  Butterfield  and  Johnson  on 
either  side  of  him.  Meanwhile  the  vigilant 
Sheriff  Cudihee  lay  in  wait  for  his  man  near 
the  waggon.  As  Tracy  sauntered  down  the  path 
the  Sheriff  of  King  County  covered  him  every 
inch  of  the  way  with  his  Winchester.  There 
was  just  a  shadow  of  doubt  in  his  mind  as 
to  which  of  the  three  was  the  man  he  wanted. 
He  decided  to  wait  until  the  outlaw  climbed 
into  the  waggon. 

Suddenly  out  of  the  darkness  rushed  Police- 
officer  Breece,  Mr.  J.  I.  McKnight,  and  Game 
U'arden  Neil  Rawley.  Breece 
covered  the  convict  with  his 
rifle  from  a  distance  of  about 
ten  yards,  and  cried,  "Throw- 
down  that  gun,  Tracy  !  " 

The  desperado  wheeled  and 
fired  point-blank.  Breece  fell 
over,  a  dead  man.  Twice  more 
the  convict  fired,  this  time  at 
Rawley,  and  the  game  warden 
went  to  the  ground  mortally 
wounded.  Tracy  dashed 
through  the  fence  and  made 
for  the  woods.  The  sheriff 
levelled  his  rifle  and  fired 
twice  at  the  disappearing  con- 
vict, but  owing  to  the  darkness 
neither  shot  took  effect.  Harry 
Tracy,  burglar,  outlaw,  and 
murderer,  had  again  broken 
through  the  death-trap  that  had  been  pre- 
pared for  him.  Had  it  not  been  for  the 
recklessness  of  interfering  officials  Cudihee 
would  undoubtedly  have  caught  or  killed 
his  man. 

With  the  curious  mania  which  he  had  for 
continually  doubling  on  his  tracks  Tracy  again 
headed  for  Bothell,  near  which  point  he  held 
up  Farmer  Fisher  for  clothes  and  [jrovisions. 
Cornered  in  a  strip  of  country  not  twenty  miles 
square,  in  the  midst  of  which  was  a  city  of 
120,000  population,  though  three  bodies  lay  in 
the  county  morgue  to  attest  his  unerring  skill 
and  others  lay  wounded  near  to  death  in  the 
hospitals,  yet  Harry  Tracy  still  roamed  the 
coiiiitry  like  an  Apache,  uninjured  and  untam- 
able. Whenever  men  bearded  him  he  left  a 
trail  of  blood  behind  him  in  his  relentless  flight. 
He  himself  condoned  his  crimes  because,  as  he 


ANDERSON,   THE  MAN   WHO  WAS   FORCED    BY 
TKACV   TO   ATTEND    HIM    AS   A    HUMAN 

From  a\  pack-horse.  [I'/ioio. 


said,  he  killed  to  satisfy  no  lust  for  blood,  but 
simply  to  keep  his  cherished  liberty. 

In  order  to  understand  how  one  fearless  man 
was  able  for  so  long  a  time  to  defy  the  law  the 
nature  of  the  country  must  be  considered.  The 
Puget  Sound  country  is  the  most  densely- 
timbered  on  earth.  The  underbrush  is  very 
heavy,  and  a  rank  growth  of  ferns  some  four  feet 
high  covers  the  ground  like  a  carpet.  A  man 
might  slip  into  the  ferns  and  remain  hidden  for 
months  within  a  dozen  yards  of  the  roadside  pro- 
vided the  food  question  were  ehminated.  The 
one  thing  that  Tracy  feared  was  the  blood- 
hounds which  were  set  on  his  trail,  and  after  he 
had  shot  these  his  mind  was  more  at  ease. 

After  "holding  up"  another  household  of  John- 
sons, Tracy — accompanied  by  their  hired  man, 
Anderson,  whom  he  forced  to  attend  him  as  a 
human  pack-horse — doubled  back  to  Seattle  by 
way  of  Port  Madison.  He  skirted  the  city  till  he 
came  to  South  Seattle,  and  then 
cut  around  the  end  of  Lake 
^Vashington  to  Kenton.  At 
this  point  he  made  himself 
the  uninvited  guest  of  the 
Jerrolds  family.  Walking  up 
from  Renton  with  his  unwilling 
companion,  Tracy  met  Miss 
May  Baker,  Mrs.  McKinney, 
and  young  Jerrolds  picking 
.salmon  berries.  Tracy  stopped 
them  smilingly.  "  I  guess  you 
have  heard  of  me;  I  am  Tracy," 
he  said  ;  then  added,  "  You 
needn't  be  afraid  of  me.  I 
never  harmed  a  woman  in  my 
life,  and  I  don't  intend  to  begin 


now. 


Talking  easily  with  the 
women  Tracy  walked  along 
to  the  house,  in  the  rear  of  which  he  tied 
Anderson  to  a  dump  of  bushes.  He  called  the 
Jerrolds  boy  and  handed  him  two  watches,  which 
he  wished  sold  in  order  to  buy  two  45-calibre 
single-action  Colt  revolvers  and  a  box  of 
cartridges.  He  threatened  to  kill  everybody  in 
the  house  in  ca.se  the  boy  betrayed  him,  but  the 
lad  was  no  sooner  gone  than  he  told  Mrs.  Jerrolds 
that  this  was  mere  "  bluff."  This  iron-nerved 
murderer  and  outlaw  actually  shed  tears  at  this 
point. 

"  I  wouldn't  hurt  you,  mother,  for  anything. 
I  have  a  mother  of  my  own  somewhere  back 
east.  I  haven't  done  just  right  by  her,  but  I 
reckon  all  the  mothers  are  safe  from  me,  no 
matter  what  happens." 

Presently  Tracy  brightened  again,  and  was 
laughing  and  talking  with  the  three  women,  just 
as  if  they  had  been  old  acquaintances.     It  was 


11 


IllN  IIXC     Ol-     1I.\RK\'      1  k.\(  \ 


211 


J'  to  HI  a\ 


I  Mli  JliKHOI.D  HOMESlEAl),   WHl-.]  I 


nenrly  time  to  prepare  the  dinner,  and  Tracy 
carried  in  wood  and  volunteered  to  get  the 
water  from  the  spring.  Rifle  in  liand,  he 
sauntered  down  to  the  raih'oad  track  and  filled 
his  bucket  with  water.  As  he  did  so  a  special 
train,  bearing  the  posse  which  hunted  him,  came 
round  the  bend.  He  ducked  into  the  bushes  to 
let  it  pass. 

"  I  reckon  there  are  some  gentlemen  in  that 
train  looking  for  me,"  he  remarked,  carelessly, 
when  he  had  reached  the  hou.se.  "  I  saw  a 
reporter  there.  They  are  always  in  the  lead. 
P'irst  you  see  a  reporter,  then  a  cloud  of  dust, 
and  after  a  while  the  deputies.  It's  the  inter- 
viewer I'm  afraid  of!  "  and  he  laughed. 

There  was  much  gay  talk  and  laughter  during 
the  meal  which  followed,  in  which  Tracy  took 
the  lead.  His  repartee  was  apt  and  spirited, 
and  his  sallies  were  irresistible.  'i"he  Jerrolds  boy 
had  informed  the  sheriffs  officer  of  Tracy's 
whereabouts  long  ago,  and  by  this  time  the 
deputies  were  begiiming  to  surround  the  house. 
E\erybody  was  alarmed  save  the  outlaw  himself. 
He  strolled  to  the  window  and  looked  out  at  an 
enterprising  photographer  who  was  trying  to 
take  a  picture  of  the  house. 

"  My  trousers  arc  too  short  and  they're  not 
nicely  ironed,"  he  said.  "  I  like  to  be  neatly 
dressed  before  ladies.  I  guess  I'll  go  out  and 
hold  up  a  deputy  for  a  pair.'' 

Miss-  Baker  was  worried  in  case  she  might 
not  get  home  before  dark.  i'racy  reassured 
her,  sa)ing  it  was  a  pleasant  moonlit  night, 
and  that  he  wijuld  Ijc  glad  to  accom[)any  her  if 


he    might    have    the 
pleasure. 

As  the  day  wore  on 
the  de[)ulies  gathered 
thicker  and  thicker 
around  the  house, 
cautiously  drawing 
closer  and  closer,  for 
they  knew  that  the 
outlaw  was  a  dead 
shot.  I*"inally  Tracy 
concluded  that  he  had 
better  be  going.  From 
his  Chesterfieldian 
manner  he  might  have 
been  bidding  his 
hostess  good-bye  after 
some  elaborate  func- 
tion. From  the  back 
door  -  step  he  waved 
them  all  a  merry  good 
day  and  wished  them 
all  manner  of  luck. 
As  it  happened,  just 
at  that  moment  poor 
Anderson  had  been  discovered  tied  to  a 
tree.  One  of  the  deputies  gave  a  shout  and 
the  others  crowded  round  to  see  what  was 
the  matter.  In  the  excitement  Tracy  quietly 
.slipped  down  to  tlie  river  and  disappeared  ! 

Day  after  day  the  chase  after  this  extraordi- 
nary man  continued.  Hundreds  of  men  beat 
the  woods  and  patrolled  the  roads  in  vain. 
Once  Tracy  was  wounded,  but  managed  to  keep 
under  cover  until  he  was  again  able  to  travel. 
He  played  hide-and-seek  with  the  officers  of 
King  County  for  weeks,  then  suddenly  broke 
away  for  the  Cascades  on  horseback.  Weeks 
later  he  turned  up  in  Eastern  Washington  en 
route  for  his  old  stamping-ground,  the  "  Holein- 
the-U'all "  country.  More  than  once  his  old 
fondness  for  loitering  for  days  in  the  same  spot 
showed  itself.  His  effrontery  knew  no  bounds. 
At  one  place  he  made  u.se  of  the  telephone  to 
call  up  a  sheriff,  in  order  to  tease  him  about  his 
ill-success  in  capturing  Tracy.  Before  he  left, 
however,  he  gave  the  poor  official  one  grain 
of  consolation.  "  You've  done  better  than  the 
other  sheriffs,"  he  said.  "  You've  talked  with 
the  man  you  want,  anyway.  (lood  bye  ;  I'm 
afraid  you  won't  see  me  again." 

liut   he   did.     Ea;,tern    Washington  does  not 
afford  any  such  hiding-ground  as  the  big  forests 
of  the  western  part  of  the  State.      From  point 
to  i)oint  the  telephone  handed  on  the  me^s.nce 
that  'Iracy  had  just  passed.     He  (' 
there,  and  everywhere  ;  but  he  could  i 
off  his   relentless  pursuers,  aided   as  th.  . 
by  the  telephone   wires.     Sheriff  Cudihee,  now 


2l8 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


thoroughly  aroused,  swore  never  to  leave  the 
chase  till  Tracy  was  taken.  Sheriffs  Gardner 
and  Doust  and  Cudihee  held  the  passes  and 
closed  in  on  him.  For  two  days  and  nights  the 
outlaw  hung  around  the  Eddy  ranch  until  a 
young  man  who  .saw  him  there  raced  with  the 
news  to  Sheriff  Gardner,  who  hastened  to  the 
scene  at  once. 

Meanwhile  a  party  of  five  citizens  of  Creston 
stopped  for  ever  the 
wonderful  career  of 
the  man  who  had 
travelled  four  hun- 
dred miles  and 
baffled  thousands  of 
pursuers.  C  C. 
Straub,  deputy 
sheriff,  Dr.  E.  C. 
Lanter,  Maurice 
Smith,  attorney,  J.  J. 
Morrison,  section 
foreman,  and  Frank 
Liilen  Green,  all 
armed  to  the  teeth, 
proceeded  to  the 
ranch  of  Mr.  L.  B. 
Eddy,  where  the 
outlaw  was  known 
to  be  in  hiding.  The 
country  hereabout  is 
very  rocky,  and  the 
party  to  jk  every  care 
not  to  be  caught  in 
an  ambush.  They 
saw  Farmer  Eddy 
mowing  his  hay,  and 
while  talking  with 
h  i  m  observed  a 
strange  man  emerge 
from  the  barn. 

"  Is  that  Tracy  ?  " 
asked  one  of  them. 

"  It  surely  is,"' 
answered  Eddy. 

Tracy  came  from 
the  i)nrn  and  Ijegan 
to  help  ills  host  un- 
hitch the  team.  His 
rifle  he  had  left  in  the 
barn,  but  his  revol- 
vers he  still  carried.  Suddenly  he  saw  his  pursuers. 

"  Who  are  those  men  ?  "  he  demanded,  turn- 
ing sharply  to  lOddy. 

"  Mold  up  your  hands  :"  shouted  the  oflirers, 
without  waiting  for  the  farmer's  reply. 

Elk.-  a  flash  Tracy  jumped  behind  Eddv  and 
the  team  ■.nd   bade  the  lerrifufl  farmer  lead  the 


HE   STAI<TEI>    I1KAUH)N(;    DOWN     IMIC    VAl.l.liV. 


horses  to  the  barn.  When  near  the  door  he 
made  a  break  to  reach  his  trusty  rifle.  A 
moment  later  he  reappeared  again,  rifle  in  hand, 
and  started  headlong  down  the  valley.  Again 
his  iron  nerve  had  brought  him  out  of  an 
apparently  certain  trap.  Two  shots  he  fired 
at  his  pursuers,  but  neither  of  them  had  effect. 
The  man-hunters  took  up  the  chase  at  once. 
Tracy  dodged  behind  a  rock  and  began  firing 

rapidly.  It  was  grow- 
ing dark,  however, 
and  he  missed  his 
m  en.  The  n  h  e 
made  a  dash  for  a 
wheatfield  near  at 
hand,  the  officers 
firing  at  him  as  he 
ran.  Suddenly  he 
stumbled  and  fell  on 
his  face,  but  dragged 
himself  on  hands 
and  knees  into  the 
field.  He  had  been 
hit. 

Sheriff  Gardner 
and  his  posse  now 
arrived  on  the  scene 
and  surrounded  the 
field.  Presently  a 
single  shot  was  heard 
by  the  watchers. 
That  shot  sent  the 
notorious  bandit  into 
eternity.  In  the  early 
morning  the  cordon 
cautiously  worked  its 
way  into  the  field, 
and  presently  stum- 
bled upon  Harry 
Tracy's  lifeless 
body.  The  most 
famous  man-hunt  in 
the  history  of  the 
country  had  ended, 
("rippled  and  bleed- 
ing, hopeless  of 
escape,  the  bandit 
had  shot  himself 
sooner  than  let  him- 
self l)e  taken. 
Afu.r  escaping  from  a  dozen  sheriffs,  slipping 
cleverly  out  of  death-trap  after  death-trap,  and 
leaving  behind  him  everywhere  a  trail  of  blood 
that  would  not  have  discredited  an  Apache 
chief,  Tracy  fell  at  last  by  his  own  hand  rather 
than  lose  the  liberty  wliich  he  a[)parently  prized 
more  than  life  itself 


Paris   to   New  York   Overland. 

THE     NARRATIVE    OF    A    REMARKABLE     EXPEDITION. 

\)\    HaKRV    111.    WlNDI,    I'.  K.C.S. 
II.  — \AKITSK     'IT)     Vr.RKHOVAXSK. 

We  have  much  pleasure  in  announcing  that  we  have  secured  the  sole  and  exclusive  right  to  publish 
the  only  illustrated  account  of  Mr.  de  Windt's  great  feat  which  will  appear  in  this  country,  the 
reproductions  of  the  Kodak  photographs  taken  during  the  expedition  adding  greatly  to  the  vividness  Df 
the  narrative.  As  a  glance  at  a  map  of  the  world  will  show,  the  explorer's  journey  necessitated 
traversing  some  of  the  wildest  and  most  inhospitable  regions  of  the  earth,  where  even  the  elements 
fought  against  the  intrepid  party.  Mr.  de  Windt  essayed  the  journey  once  before,  but  on  that  occasion 
the  expedition  came  to  grief  on  the  ice-bound  shores  of  Behring  Sea,  and  the  author  barely  escaped 
with  his  life  from  the  hands  of  the  savage  natives.  This  time  complete  success  has  crowned 
the  venture  ;  but  the  adventures  met  with,  and  the  unheard-of  privations  endured  by  the  party, 
form    a   unique    record    of    human    endurance    and    dogged    pluck. 


lOURNI'vV  by  reindeer-sled  is  tiie 
pleasantest  form  of  primitive 
travel  in  the  world.  The  paces  of 
a  reindeer  are  so  gentle,  and  yet  so 
swift,     that    one     glides    over    the 

ground  imperceptibly,  covering  huge  distances 

without     effort    or    fatigue.       Our    deer    were 

weakly,  miser- 
able   beasts, 

half-starved  and 

exhausted    with 

the   winter's 

hard  work,  and 

yet,     compared 

with  the  cum- 
bersome horse- 
sleighs  which 

had  brought  us 

to       Yakutsk, 

our    tiny    sleds 

were  as  auto- 
mobiles    to 

wheelbarrows. 

A    "  narta,"    as 

a  reindeer-  sletl 

is  called  by  the 

Yakutes,     is    a 

narrow,     coffin - 

shaped   vehicle, 

about  seven  feel 

long     by     three 

feet  broad,  fitted 

with  a  movable 

hood.     Si.\  deer 

are     harnessed, 

two  abreast,  the 

driver      lieing 

seated    on    a 

miniature     sled 

just  behind   the 


leaders.  He  is  armed  with  a  formidable  whip 
of  cow-hide,  which  is,  however,  seldom  used, 
for,  if  Yakutes  have  a  virtue,  it  is  kindness  to 
animals. 

At  Yakutsk  we  had  di.scardcd  civilized 
costume  and  assumed  Arctic  clothing,  which  is, 
perhaps,    worthy    of  description.      The   reader 

will  realize  what 
the  cold  must 
liave  been  when 
I  say  that  we 
often  shivered 
L\en  under  the 
follow!  n  g 
mountains  of 
ninterial.  Our 
underclothing 
consisted  of  two 
pnirs  of  Jneger 


singlets 


IIIK    I'AKIV 

/'Vow  a] 


IKAVKl.l.lNO    IMKOUlill    Tllli   SIIIKKIAN    FOKKbT    I.N"    SIX-I.\-IIAM> 

KEINl>Hli-l  IDS.  [Phuli). 


and 
(.Irawers  and 
three  pairs  of 
thick  worsted 
stockings.  Over 
these  were  worn 
.1  suit  of  Ar(  tic 
''duftle,"  a  nuis- 
lard  -  ctiloured 
felt  of  enormous 
tliiekness,  and 
a  pair  of  deer- 
skin boots.  A 
second  pair  of 
deerskin 
'  ^  and  a 
.  a  ,"  o  r 
long,  loose  decr- 
--kin  garment 
reaching  to  the 
knees,    com- 


220 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


dense  forests,  where  the  narrow 
track,  vaguely  indicated  by  blazed 
tree  -  trunks,  was  sometimes  so 
narrow  that  axes  had  to  be 
brought  into  requisition  before 
our  four  sleds  could  proceed. 
This  journey  of  six  hundred 
miles  is  bad  enough  in  winter, 
but  in  summer  its  dangers  and 
discomforts  are  increased  by 
swollen,  unfordable  rivers  and 
deep,  perilous  swamps.  Cossacks 
take  a  mail  through  twice  each 
way  during  the  open  season,  and 
many  are  drowned  or  perish  of 
starvation  in  the  marshes. 
Stepan,  who  accompanied  my 
expedition,  had  once  accom- 
plished the  trip  and  sincerely 
hoped  he  might  never  have  to 
do  so  again. 

The  post-houses,  about  six  or 
seven  in  number,  between 
Yakutsk  and  Verkhoyansk  are 
dignified  by  the  name  of  "  stan- 
cias,"  but  are  nothing  but  log 
huts  plastered  with  mud,  so 
indescribably  filthy  that  we  were 
sometimes  compelled  to  forsake 
the  warmth  and  shelter  for  the 
cold,  cheerless  road.  Imagine  a 
low,  square  building,  with  l-locks 
of  ice  for  windows  and  floors  of 


/■,/«  „i 


illi  1  KAIL  — A  s(:j;\f,  i>"ixri)i-.  \):i,kh(>van^i:.         M'Iio'o. 


plated  the  outfit.  As 
headgear  we  wore  two 
close-fitting  worsted  caps, 
also  a  deerskin  cap  with 
ear  -  flaps,  and  lastly  a 
huge  bearskin  headdress, 
fastened  under  the  chin. 
Two  pairs  of  worsted 
gloves  and  one  of  bear- 
skin mils  covered  the 
hands.  It  was  almost 
impossible  to  walk  ten 
yards  in  comfort  under 
such  a  weight,  and  yet, 
as  I  say,  we  often  suffered 
severely  from  the  cold, 
not  only  in  the  open,  but 
under  a  closely-fastened 
felt  hood. 

There  is  no  road,  in 
the  ordinary  sense  of  the 
term,  frofn  N'akutsk  to 
Verkhoyansk.  Most  of 
the     way     lies     through 


l-'i  0111  a\ 


A    WAYSIDE   POST-HOUSE. 


\rh.o<o. 


PARIS    TO    NEW     YORK    U\  KRl.AM). 


(21 


beaten  earth,  slippery  witli  the  filth  of  years. 
This  apartment  is  occupied  hy  the  \'alaite 
family  in  charge  of  the  "  stancia,"  travellers,  and 
cattle,  who  roam  about  the  place  as  freely  as  its 
human  L;uests.  A  huge  fire  is  kept  blazing 
night  and  day,  and  the  heat  was  sometimes  so 
great  that  we  suffered  almost  as  much  from  it  as 
from  the  deadly  cold  outside.  But  the  stench 
was  even  worse  to  endure,  especially  when  cook- 
ing operations  were  in  progress,  for  the  Yakutes 
care  nothing  for  fresh,  pure  meat,  but  prefer  it 
tainted,  antl  the  odour  emanating  from  a  mass  of 


"  stancias "  were  too  far  apart  to  woik  on  a 
schedule.  We  generally,  therefore,  left  a  post- 
house  with  very  vague  notions  as  to  when  we 
should  see  the  ne.xt.  For  the  first  few  days  the 
cold  was  not  very  severe,  about  thirty  degrees 
below  zero  being  the  lowest  temperature. 
Hunger,  however,  rendered  it  infinitely  harder 
to  bear  than  twenty  degrees  lower  with  plenty 
of  nourishment.  Once  only  during  the  journey 
of  eleven  days  to  Verkhoyansk  we  were  brought 
to  a  standstill,  far  from  shelter,  by  a  furious 
blizzard,  which  raged  unceasingly  for  twenty-four 


From  a\ 


A  i.miui'  ou'isnir:  a   rnsi  .iioi-;!-:  -mi;,   hi-:  wind 


I'll  ftp. 


putrid  deer-meat,  or,  worse  still,  fish  simmering  on 
the  embers,  may  be  better  imagined  than  de- 
scribed. On  more  than  one  occasion  we  suffered 
violently  from  iiial  de  titer  in  these  unsavoury 
shelters.  Fortunately,  however,  we  were  never 
compelled  to  partake  of  this  disgusting  fare,  Init 
lived  on  "  Carnyl  "'  (a  condensed  food  which 
I  can  recommend  to  the  notice  of  explorers) 
and  tinned  provisions.  But,  had  we  known  it, 
every  moutliful  we  ate  of  our  precious  store 
now  was  heaping  up  days  of  agony  for  us  in 
the  Arctic,  where  we  were  fated  on  more  than 
one  occasion  to  suffer  the  pangs  of  starvation. 

North  of  \'akutsk  we  travelled  night  and  day 
without   any   attempt   at   making  time,   for    the 


hours  and  nearly  buried  us  in  snow.  When  the 
storm  abated  we  struggled  painfully  on  lor 
about  fifteen  miles,  and  hailed  the  sight  of  a 
"povarnia"  with  delight,  for  it  meant,  at  any 
rale,  shelter  and  a  fire.  "  Tovarnias "  have 
saved  many  travellers  from  death  by  cold 
and  exposure  on  this  lonely  road.  They  are 
merelv  uninhabited  sheds,  often  half  full  of 
snow  and  open  to  the  winds,  and  yet  these 
crazy,  comfortless  shelters  were  often  as  accept- 
able to  my  expedition  as  the  sight  of  the  snug 
Lord  Warden  Hotel  to  the  cold  and  sea-sick 
\()vager  from  IVance. 

but  the  weather  was  not  always  gloomy  and 
unpleasant,  although   in   midwinter   this  is  the 


222 


THE    WIDl'.    WORJ.l)     MAGAZINE. 


region  of  eternal 
darkness  ;  but  in 
our  case  spring 
was  approaching, 
and  on  a  fine- 
morning  I  would 
throw  open  my 
"  nana  "and  bask 
in  the  warm  sun- 
shine while  con- 
templating a  sky 
of  sapphire  and 
smoking  a  cigar, 
one  of  the  last, 
alas  !  I  was  likely 
to  enjoy  on  this 
side  of  America. 
On  such  days  the 
pure  frosty  air 
would  exhilarate 
like  champagne, 
and  there  was 
only  one  draw- 
back to  perfect 
enjoyment  —  the 
body  would  be 
baked  on  one 
side  by  scorching 
rays  and  frozen  in 
the  shade  on  the 
other. 

On    till'    fourth 


.\   GOVEU.N.MtNT    "  I'UVAK.MA  " — THESF,    L.NlNH.Mil  IKD    IRJL.SliS   OF    KEI-UGIC 

ARR    KRECTED   AI'    DISTANCES   OK    ABOUT    EICHTV   MILES   APART 

/'"  oni  n   Pholn. 


day  we  came'  in 
sight  of  the  \'er- 
khoyansk  range,  a 
chain  of  snow- 
clad,  precipitous 
mountains  that 
will  form  one  of 
the  chief  stum- 
bling -  blocks  to 
the  construction 
of  the  proposed 
all -world  railway. 
Halting  at  a 
tenantless  "povar- 
nia "  at  the  foot 
of  the  mountain 
we  b r e a k f a s t e d 
in  the  hut  in  an 
atmosphere  of 
ten  degrees  below 
zero,  upon  which 
a  roaring  fire 
made  no  appre- 
ciable impression, 
and,  o  d  d 1 y 
enough,  in  this 
deserted  shanty 
we  came  upon  the 
sole  sign  of  life 
which  we  had 
encountered  out- 
side   the     "  stan- 


I'IhHo. 


I'AKIS     IC)     NKW     \()KK     ()\' 1:K1.AM). 


cias "  all  the  wav  from  WikutNk  -a  liny  ficlcl- 
mousc  which  had  survived  the  Aiclic  winter 
curled  up  in  a  tiny  mound  of  earth  in  a 
corner  of  the  shed.  The  poor  little,  half-frozen 
thing  could  scarcely  move,  but  we  gathered  fir- 
bjughs  and  made  it  a  nest,  and  left  with  it  a 
goodly  sui)[)ly  of  "  Carnyl '' and  biscuit-crumbs, 
which  it  devoured  with  avidity,  and  a  grateful 
look  in  its  black  beady  eyes. 

Starting  at  midday  we  commenced  the  ascent 
of  the  mountain,  which  is  crossed  by  probably 
the  most  remarkable  pass  in  the  world.  From 
a  few  miles  away  it  appeared  as  though  a  per- 
pendicular wall  of  ice  must  be  climbed  to 
reach  the  summit.  Previous  to  the  ascent, 
iron  horseshoes  were  fixed  to  our  feet  by 
.Stepan,   who    had    thoughtfully    brought   them 


could  as  they  dashed  down  a  snowy  incline 
about  half  a  mile  \n  length  to  the  plain  on  the 
northern  side.  But  neaiing  the  valley  the  pace 
increased  until  all  control  was  lost,  and  we 
landed  in  a  deep  snow-drift  at  the  base  of  the 
mountain,  men,  deer,  and  sleds  being  muddled 
ui)  in  inextricable  confusion.  At  this  point  the 
Verkhoyansk  mountains  are  from  four  thousand 
to  five  thousand  feet  in  height. 

From  here  on  to  our  destination,  about  seven 
days,  the  journey  was  one  of  wondrous  beauty. 
'l"he  scenery  passed  through  recalled  the  mo.-.t 
pictures([ue  parts  of  Switzerland,  and,  although 
the  i)retty  villages  and  fertile  fields  which 
enhance  the  charm  of  Alpine  scenery  wcie 
wanting,  1  can  never  forget  the  wild,  desolatj 
LMandeur  of  that  sub-Arctic  forest,  or  the  snov,- 


'^■ 


y 


/■llWII   </] 


iiii-;   i;.\i  Ki>i  1  luN   i;s  iKiviM.    iiii.   \  i  nk  ii'i\  a.n.-.k    r.v-'-. 


from  \'akul.^k  for  the  purpose.  This  is  the 
local  method  of  securing  fnin  foothold,  but  I 
discarded  these  awkward  appendages  after  they 
had  given  me  five  or  six  bad  falls,  and  my  com- 
panions did  likewise.  'I'wo  hours  of  severe 
work,  increased  by  the  steep  ascent  antl  rarefied 
air,  brought  us  to  the  summit,  the  reindeer  and 
sleds  being  taken  up  by  a  longer  but  less 
precipitous  route.  In  places  a  slip  would 
have  meant  a  dangerous  if  not  fatal  fall, 
for  midway  up  a  precipice  of  over  a  thousand 
feet  is  skirted  by  a  narrow  and  insecure  ledge 
of  ice  about  three,  feet  wide.  On  the  down- 
ward side  the  reindeer  were  fiistened  behind  the 
sleds,  and   we   held   them   back   as   well  as  we 


glittered    against 


a    >kv    of 


clad    peaks    that 
turquoise  above  them. 

Lieutenant  Schwatka,  the  famous  Alaskan 
explorer,  once  remarked  that  a  man  travelling 
in  the  Arctic  must  depend  upon  his  own 
inent,  and  not  upon  the  ailvice  of  others,  ii  iic 
would  be  successful.  The  wisdom  of  his  words 
was  exeni|)lified  by  the  journey  of  my  expedition 
from    Yakutsk    to  \'erkhoyansk.       '  se  at 

Yakutsk,  from  the  tlovernor  downw.ii ..ured 

me  that  f;iilure,  and  perhaps  dis.ister,  must 
inevitably  attend  an  attempt  to  reach  Verkho- 
vansk  in  under  si.x  weeks.  Fortunately  I 
turned  a  deaf  ear  to  well-meant,  but  unwise, 
counsel,    for   in    less   than   a  fortnight  we  had 


224 


THE    WIDE    WORLD     MAGAZINE. 


A   OENliUAI.    \  ItW    ul     VliUKIIOVANSK — IT   IS    SAID    TO    HE   ONE   0> 

Fioiii  a  Photo. 


TJIE   COLDEST    II.ACLS    IN    Till-:    Uulcl.U. 


reached  A'erkhoyansk,  which,  by  the  way,  is  said 
to  be  the  coldest  place  in  Siberia,  if  not  in  the 
world.  Of  this  fact  I  am  doubtful,  for  Sredni- 
Kolymsk,  twelve  hundred  miles  farther  north, 
probably  bears  the  palm  in  this  respect. 
The  error  has  perhaps  arisen  from  the  fact 
that  Sredni-Kolymsk  is  practically  unknown, 
even  to  officials  in  the  most  remote  parts 
of  Siberia.      AVe  were  the  first   strangers   from 


the  outer  world  to  visit  this  desolate  settlement 
— so  justly  dreaded  by  political  exiles  —  for 
over  thirty  years. 

Three  days  from  Verkhoyansk  the  cold  became 
intense  and  we  suffered  severely  ;  indeed,  at 
one  post-house  my  companion,  the  Vicomte  de 
Clinchamp,  had  to  be  carried  from  his  sled  and 
into  the  "  stancia,"  a  journey  of  twenty  consecu- 
tive hours  having  temporarily  deprived  him  of 


/•I  pill  a] 


A    CWJOfl'   OK    VAKUI'KS, 


rllolo 


PARIS  TO   nt:\v   \()Rk   ()\ri'i  wo 


tin-    use  of  his    limbs. 
Uiic  of  my  feet  was  also 
badly  fro/cii,  owing,  how- 
ever,  to  my  own  careless- 
ness in   having  neglected 
to  remove  my  foot  gear  at 
night  -  time,      ^\'hen     this 
is  not  done  the  perspira- 
tion   formed    during    the 
day  congeals  during  sleep 
into  solid   ice,   freezing  a 
limb  severely,  and  this  is 
what    had    happened    in 
my  case.     And,  in  truth, 
most  of  that  journey  was 
terrible  work.      I  got  into 
a  way  at  last  of  classify- 
ing the  various  stages  of 
frigidity  on  departure 
from   a    station,    and  this 
was    tlie    order:     (i)    the 
warm,   (2)  the  chilly,  and 
(3)  the  glacial.     The  first 
stage    of  comparative 
comfort  was   due   to  the 
effect     of     warmth      and 
food,  and  generally  lasted 
for    a    couple    of    hours, 
sometimes     even 
three.      In    stage 
number    two,    one 
gradually     com- 
menced   to    fee  1 
chilly,    with     shivery 
feelings     down     tlic 
back    and    a    seiisa- 
t  i  o  n    of    numb- 
ness at  the  extremi- 
ties.    Number  three 
stage  was  one  of  in- 
creasing  cold,    until 
the  face  was  covered 
bv   a    thin    mask    of 
ice,    formed    by    the 
breath      during     the 
short    intervals  of 
sleej),    or,    rather, 
stupor.    The  awaken- 
ing  was    the  most 
painful     part    of    it, 
and    when    the    time 
came    to    drag    one- 
self into  some  filtiiy 
"  stancia  "    I    would 
often  have  preferred 
to    sleep    on    in    the 
sled,     although     the 
loss  of   a   limb,  and 
perhaps  death,  might 

Vol.  X.-29. 


\  AKl   I  !■:    W'lMi 


have    resulted    from    this 
imprudence. 

At  last,  one  bright,  still 
morning,  in  da/zling  sun- 
hine,  we  reached  \'er- 
khoyansk.  I  iiad  looked 
forward  to  the  place  as  a 
haven  of  warmth  and  rest 
(and  perhaps  safety)  from 
the  blinding  blizzards  that 
had  of  late  obstructed  our 
progress,  but  the  sight  of 
that  desolate  village,  with 
its  row  of  filthy,  tumble- 
down hovels,  inspired 
such  feelings  of  aversion 
and  depression  that  my 
one  idea  was  to  leave  the 
place  as  soon  as  possible, 
even  for  the  unknown 
perils  and  privations 
beyond  it. 

Verkhoyansk,  with  one 
exception  the  most 
remote  settlement  in  the 
Czar's  great  prison -land, 
consists  of  a  double  row 
of  log  huts,  containing 
some  three  hundred 
souls.  The  huts  are 
alike  in  size  and 
construction  ;  nnul- 
plastered  wall,  win- 
dows of  ice,  and  a 
low,  felt -covered 
doorway.  The  chief 
of  police,  Monsieur 
Katcheroffski,  re- 
ceived us  at  the 
guest  -  house,  which 
is  always  set  apart 
b  y  the  Russia  n 
( i  o  V  e  r  n  m  e  n  t  in 
Siberian  settlements 
for  the  accommoda- 
tion of  travelling 
officials,  and  here  we 
stayed  for  two  da\s 
while  fresh  reindeer 
were  brought  in  for 
our  n  o  r  I  h  w  a  r  d 
journey  to  Sredni- 
Kolymsk,  twelve 
hundred  miles  dis- 
tant on  the  shores  of 
the  Arctic  Ocean. 
There   were    over 

a   score   of  political 

exiles  in   this   place. 


226 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


I  will  not  here  give  details  of  their  life,  which, 
indeed,  was  pitiable  enough,  for  the  existence 
of  their  unhappy  comrades  at  Sredni-Kolymsk 
is  exhaustively  described  in  the  pages  of 
the  current  S/nuid  Ma!::;aziue.  But  compared 
to  the  latter  place  Verkhoyansk  is  a  paradise, 
and  this  is  largely  due  to  the  fact  that  its 
"  Ispravnik  "  is  a  gentleman  and  not  a  gaoler, 
like  too  many  of  his  class.  Katcheroffski's  kind- 
ness and  hospitality  to  the  miserable  survivors 
of  the  Arctic  ex[)loring  ship  Jeanette  after  the 
disaster  of  the  Lena  delta  were  suitably  rewarded 
by  the  American  Government,  and  this  official's 
untiring  zeal  and  energy  might  also  have    met 


allowed  by  the  Russian  Government  for  their 
maintenance.  This  was  seventeen  roubles,  or 
about  thirty-four  shillings  per  month,  and  this 
in  a  place  where  provisions  are  always  at  famine 
prices.  Life,  they  told  me,  therefore,  was  one 
perpetual  struggle  for  existence,  except  in 
summer  -  time,  when  fish  was  pleiitiful  in  the 
River  Yana  hard  by,  but  mid-winter  generally 
finds  these  unhappy  people  in  a  condition  of 
semi-starvation. 

I  have  said  that  Verkhoyansk  is  noted  for  its 
intense  cold.  Monsieur  Abramovski,  a  Polish 
Nihilist,  whose  term  of  banishment  was  ap- 
proaching completion,  gave  me  some  interesting 


■  III      mil  si     ,\  I     \  I  KKM.i\  A-  -K    VVIIKKK    Ml;.    DK   WINDT   SI  AYKD— I  11 H    WINDOWS    WERK   COMPOSED   OK 

Frotii  a  J'/ioto. 


-.l.AI'.S    ()|-    ICE. 


with  some  recognition  at  the  hands  of  the 
Ru.ssian  (Government,  for  a  more  honest,  con- 
scientious, and  universally  [)0[)ular  official  does 
not  exist  throt^ghout  the  dominions  of  tiie 
Great  White  (.'zar. 

'I'here  was  "liltle  enough  U)  do  here,  and 
lime  hung  very  heavily  on  our  hands  for  two 
days,  and  yet  some  of  the  exiles  had  passed  a 
lifetime  at  \'erklioyansk.  Perhaps  half-a  dozen 
of  the  latter  were  women,  some  still  young  and 
attractive,  but  the  most  pathetic  sight  was  that 
of  the  little  children  born  in  exile,  and  destined 
perhaj)s  to  remain  here  for  ever.  All  the  exiles 
complained    bitterly  of   the    miseral)le   pittance 


statistics  on  this  subject.  Yakut.sk,  he  saiil, 
ijore  the  reputation  of  being  the  coldest  place 
on  earth,  but  this  is  a  fallacy,  for  Verkhoyansk,  he 
said,  can  beat  the  world  for  low  temperatures. 
The  result  of  Abramovski's  careful  observations 
for  twelve  years  was  as  follows  :  Mean  tem- 
perature for  the  whole  year,  four  degrees 
below  zero,  I'ahrenheit  :  in  hard  winters  the  ther- 
mometer was  frequently  seventy- five  degrees 
below  zero,  and  once  touched  the  almost  in- 
credible {)oint  of  eighty-one  below  zero.  During 
our  stay  at  Verkhoyansk  only  sixty-five  degrees 
below  zero  was  t(juched,  but  at  the  first  station 
we    reached    on    oux     northward     way     beyond 


PARIS    TO    \i:\V     \T)RI<     ()\'i:kI..\NI). 


227 


the  \illagf,  and  twu  hundred  miles  Iruiu  it, 
the  mereury  fell  to  seventy-eight  below  zero. 
On  this  day  the  eold  was  so  intense  that  the 
breath  froze  as  it  left  our  lips  and  fell  to  the 
ground  in  powder.  These  may  sound  extra- 
ordinary temperatures,  but  I  can  assure  the 
reader  that  I  have  often  felt  the  cold  in  Picca- 
dilly on  a  damp,  ciiilly  November  day  more  than 
on  the  coldest  day  in  this  [)art  of  Siberia.  For 
the  atmosphere  is  invariably  dry,  and  does  not 
permeate  the  frame  like  that  of  our  sea-girt, 
foggy  island.  Fortunately  for  its  inhabitants, 
Verkhoyansk  is  seldom  visited  by  strong  winds 
for  while  sixty  or  seventy  degrees  below  zero 
are  (jiiite  bearable  in  stillness,  thirty  or  forty 
degrees  higher,  accompanied  by  a  moderate 
gale,  would  kill  every  living  thing  before  it. 
But  Providence  has  humanely  decreed  that 
boisterous  weather  and  a  very  low  temperature 
shall  never  occur  together.  A  few  weeks  later, 
when  we  reached  the  Arctic  Ocean,  the  api)roach 
of  a  gale  was  always  preceded  by  a  rising  ther- 
mometer, and  clear,  calm  weather  by  a  Yall  of 
the  same. 

At  Verkhoyansk,  as  at  Yakutsk,  nothing  met 
me  but  difficulties,  and  a  continuance  of  our 
journey  was  discountenanced  by  everyone  in  the 
place.  Sredni-Kolymsk,  they  urged,  was  twelve 
hundred  miles  away.  With  weak,  exhausted  rein- 
deer it  might  take  us  a  coui)le  of  months  to  reach 
the  Czar's  remotest  settlement.  This  would  bring 


us  into  early  May,  and  by  the  beginning  of  June 
sleighing  is  o\er  and  travelling  becomes  im- 
possible. Even  at  Sredni-Kolymsk  another  six- 
teen hundred  miles  of  wild  and  desolate  country, 
almost  bereft  of  inhabitants,  would  lie  between 
us  and  Hehring  Straits.  At  Sredni- Kolymsk  a 
famine  was  said  to  have  killed  as  many  dogs  as 
lunuan  beings,  and  without  dogs  America  was 
clearly  unattainable.  1  don't  think  I  shall  ever 
forget  the hoursofanxiety  I  passedat  N'erkhoyansk. 
Should  we  advance  or  should  we  retreat  was  the 
question,  and  one  which  I  only  could  decide. 
Detention  at  Sredni-Kolymsk  for  onlv  three 
weeks  after  the  middle  of  May  would  mean 
imprisonment  in  that  dreary  settlement  until 
the  following  winter.  It  would  be  equally 
impossible  to  journey  eastward  or  southward, 
for  during  the  summer  months  Sredni-Kolymsk 
is  as  isolated  as  a  desert  island  in  mid-ocean, 
by  hundreds  of  shallow  lakes  and  boundless 
swamps,  which  can  only  be  crossed  in  a  frozen 
condition. 

Altogether  the  future  looked  very  black. 
I>ven  later,  in  the  dark  days  to  come,  when  lost 
in  the  blinding  blizzards  of  Tchaun  Bay,  or 
exposed  to  the  drunken  fury  of  the  Tchuktchis 
on  Behring  Straits,  I  have  never  passed  a  more 
unpleasant  and  harassing  period  of  my  exist- 
ence than  those  two  days  under  the  hospitable 
roof  of  the  chief  of  police,  Ivan  Katcheroffski, 
at  Verkhoyansk,  North-Eustern  Siberia. 


{^To  l>e  continued.) 


TOUHNEY^     , 


1>\-  Miss  Woodcock. 

Our  lady  readers  will  be   able   to    sympathize  with  the  authoress  in  the   fearful  predicament    in  which   she 

found  herse'.f  -alone  in  a  long-journey  express  with  a  madman,  who  had  an  idea  that  there  were  too  many 

people  in  the  train,  and  that  she  must  be  thrown  out  to  save  the  lives  of  the  rest  !     Miss  Woodcock  relates 

how  she  strove  by  every  means  in  her  power  to  gain  time,  and  how  the  lunatic  was  finally  defeated. 


WAS  late  and  the  train  was  on  the 
point  of  starting,  but  I  dashed  at 
the  first  carriage  I  saw  and  htcrally 
flung  myself  in,  utterly  disregarding 
the  angry  shouts  of  the  porters  and 
other  railway  officials,  who  one  and  all  did  their 
utmost  to  [)revent  my  risky  entrance.  The  train 
moved  off,  and  1  congratulated  myself  on 
having  escaped  a  weary  two-hours'  wait,  which 
would  have  been  my  fate  had  I  lost  this  train. 
I  had  been  up  to  town  for  a  day's  sho[)ping,  for 
the  Christmas  .sales  were  on,  and  I,  like  most  of 
my  sex,  lake  keen  delight  in  getting  bargains. 
I  had  been  pushed  and  jostled,  and  had  pushed 
and  jostled  in  return,  till  I  felt  as  limp  as  a  rag. 
But  what  niatter?  I  had  come  through  it  all  in 
triumph  with  my  coveted  prizes  !  Then  I  had 
met  several  old  friends,  had  been  sweetness  itself 
while  lunching  with  a  crotchety  old  aunt  from 
whom  I  hoped  great  things,  and,  altogether,  my 
day  had  been  ihorcnighly  satisfactory. 

There  was  only   one  other  passenger  in  the 


carriage,  a  young  man,  neatly  dressed  in  a  suit 
of  dark  navy  blue,  who  sat  in  the  farther  corner, 
af)[)arently  deeply  engrossed  with  his  own 
thuuglits,  which,  to  judge  by  his  expression, 
were  not  pleasant.  He  took  not  the  slightest 
notice  of  my  somewhat  undignified  arrival,  but 
continued  staring  in  front  of  him  just  as  if 
nothing  liad  happened.  My  parcels  were 
strewn  all  over  the  place,  and  1  thought 
he  might  have  ])icked  some  of  them  up 
for  me,  but,  as  he  appeared  oblivious  of  my 
existence,  it  was  foolish  to  expect  him  to  be 
aware  of  the  parcels.  So  I  gathered  them  uj) 
myself — what  a  lot  there  were  !— and  arranged 
them  in  a  heap  by  my  side.  Then,  feeling 
thoroughly  pleased  with  myself  and  at  peace 
witii  all  the  world,  I  leant  back,  closed  my  eyes, 
and  gave  myself  u[)  to  ])leasant  thoughts  while 
the  train  thundered  on  its  way.  It  was  an 
express,  and  there  was  no  stop  till  we  arrived  at 

C ,  which  was  my  destination. 

I  must  have  dropped  into  dreamland,  when  1 


MY    TKRKIlll.l,     loLKNKV. 


229 


was  startled  by  being  violently  sliaken,  and  a 
voice  close  by  me  exclaimed,  "  Quick  !  W'nke 
up,  wake  up  I  this  train  is  dangerous." 

I  opened  my  eyes  and  gazed  bewildered  at 
the  pallid  face  and  wild,  dilated  eyes  of  my 
travelling  com[)anion  as  he  stood  over  me, 
pulling  and  tugging  at  my  arms. 

"  \\'hat  is  the  matter  ? "'  I  asked,  not  un- 
naturally, considering  the  train  continued  its 
way  as  usual. 

^'Something  terrible  is  going  to  ha[)pen  ;  wc 
stand  on  the 
very  verge  of  a 
most  horrible 
ca  tastrophe," 
said  my  com- 
p  a  n  i  o  n  ,  e  x- 
citedly.  "  There 
is  going  to  be 
an  accident. 
Can't  you  feel  it 
coming,  coming, 
creeping  down 
on  us  like  a  great 
bldck  nightmare 
out  of  the  dark- 
ness?" And  as 
he  spoke  he 
shuddered,  and 
spread  out  his 
hands  as  if  to 
ward  off  some 
unseen  horror. 
Then  he  turned 
round,  let  down 
the  window,  and 
leant  out  for  a 
f  e  w  minutes, 
during  which 
time  the  terril:)le 
f;ict  that  I  was 
alone  with  a 
madman  —  and 
to  all  appearance 
a  d  a  n  ge  rou  s 
one  —  flashed 
through  my  brain. 
What  should  I  do? 


Drawing  a  paper  and  pencil  from  his  pocket 
he  scribbled  something  down,  and  then  said:  — 

*'  In  this  train  there  are  exactly  eight  hundred 
and  one  persons.  I've  reckoned  them  all  up,  and 
there  is  just  one  person  too  many.  V'ou  see,  the 
train  is  only  meant  to  carry  eight  hundred, 
therefore  it  is  overcrowded,  and  that  is  always 
dangerous.  Now,  you  were  the  last  to  enter. 
It  was  very  foolish  of  you  —  even  the 
porters  said  so.  You 
have     done     as     they    told 


ought 


to 


THERE     IS  GOING 


■■'/'■ '//I."". .{.;_,, 
TO    nE    AN    ACCIDENT.' 


The  thought  stunned  me. 
The  communication-cord  ! 
I  would  pull  it,  stop  the  train,  and  give  the 
man  in  charge  !  Yes  ;  but  where  was  the  cord  ? 
I  looked  to  right  and  left,  but  could  see  no  signs 
of  it.  Before  I  had  time  to  move  the  man 
turned  to  me  again.  He  seemed  calmer  ; 
perhaps  the  fresh  evening  air  had  cooled  his 
fevered   brow. 

"  Now,"  he  said,  speaking  rjuite  rationally, 
"  let  us  consider  what  is  best  to  be  done.  It  is 
imperative  that  we  should  lose  no  time,  for 
every  minute  may  be  our  last  1 " 


really 
you." 

How  I  wished 
I  had:  His 
voice  sounded  as 
if  he  were  quite 
sorry  for  me,  so 
I  screwed  up 
my  courage  — 
what  little  there 
was  left  —  and 
exclaimed  : — 

"But  I'm  very 
light  ;  I  can't 
make  any  differ- 
ence at  all." 

"  That's  non- 
sense," he  cried, 
impatiently.  ".\ 
train  made  to 
hold  eight  hun- 
dred people  can- 
not possibly 
take  any  more." 

I  could  not 
see  the  force  of 
'  this  argument, 
considering  that 
there  were  no 
fewer  than  six 
unoccupied 
places  in  our 
carriage  alone. 
Still,  one  cannot 
argue  with  a 
lunatic,  so  I  was 
silent. 
)resenily,    "  it's 


"  However,"     he    exclaimed,    [ 
easily  remedied." 

"  How  ?  "  I  inquired,  eagerly. 

'*  By  one  of  us  two  jumping  out,"  was  the 
cheerful  reply. 

My  eagerness  vanished,  'i'he  reader  will 
imagine  what  my  feelings  were  on  luaring  such 
a  tounlly  unexpected  an.swcr.  Imagine  being  ui 
an  ixpress  train  with  a  dangerous  lunatic  who 
tells  you  Willi  terrible  earnestness  that  either 
you  or  he  must  jump  out  of  the  window.  W  hat 
was  I  to  do?'  .\  hundred  thoughts  Hashed 
through  my  mind.      -My  nerves  were  beginning 


2^0 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


to  give  way.  I  tried  to  keep  cool  and  collected, 
hut  while  my  head  felt  on  fire  my  limbs  seemed 
turned  to  stone. 

"  Of  course,"  he  went  on,  calmly,  "  it  is  a 
difficult  jump,  and  it  may  hurt  a  good  deal.  It 
might  even  kill  one  ;  but  think  of  the  honour 
and  glory  of  giving  one's  life  to  save  eight 
hundred  souls.  Why,  a  V.C.  is  nothing  to  it  ! 
England  will  ring  with  the  story  and  all  the 
world  praise  it.  But  the  thing  is  to  decide  which 
of  us  two  shall  have  this  honour  and  glory." 

I  had  never  considered  myself  a  particularly 
unselfish  being,  but  at  that  moment  I  was 
positively  anxious  to  deny  myself  the  great 
privilege  so  temptingly  offered  to  me.  The 
thought  of  lying  dead  and  mangled  on  the  line 
made  the  tears  spring  to  my  eyes. 

"A  man  always  yields  to  a  lady,"  continued 
the  maniac,  "  and  I  will  give  uj)  to  please 
you." 

He  seemed  to  take  a  fiendish  delight  in 
torturing  me. 

"Oh,  no,  no  I "  I  cried,  desperately,  hunting 
about  again  for  the  cord  ;  "  please  don't." 

A  cold  shiver  ran  right  through  me.  \\'c)uld 
this  terrible  journey  never  end? 

"Then  there  is  nothing  for  it  but  to  toss," 
.said  my  companion.  "I  am  a  man  and  a 
gentleman,  therefore  I  shall  not  take  advantage 
of  your  generosity,  though  I  thank  you  for  it. 
We  will  toss  ;  it  will  be  more  fair."  He  fumbled 
in  his  pocket  for  a  coin,  but  not  finding  one 
turned  to  me,  saying  :  "  I  have  lost  my  purse ; 
have  you  a  penny?  " 

I  produced  a  coin,  trembling  as  to  what  his 
next  move  would  be.  The  wild  look  in  his 
eyes  was  becoming  more  intense,  and  his  hand 
shook  with  excitement  as  he  grasped  the  money. 

"  Heads  you  win,  tails  I — two  out  of  three," 
he  said. 

He  solemnly  sj)un  the  penny  in  the  air,  and 
I  watched  breathlessly.  Down  it  came.  1 
breathed  again— it  was  heads.  Again  he  tossed, 
and  this  time  he  won.  We  were  "one  all,"  and 
now  came  the  final. 

"  You  have  still  a  chance  of  giving  your  life 
for  your  friends,"  he  remarked  by  way  of 
encouragement,  and  no  doubt  I  looked  as  if  I 
needed  it.  Having  no  friend  in  the  train  thai 
I  knew  of,  his  wcjrds  sounded  superfluous.  l'"or 
the  third  time  he  flung  the  penny  upwards,  ;ind 
with  a  sinking  dread  I  saw  that  1  had  lost  ! 

"  Madam,"  he  said,  putting  his  hand  to  his 
heart  with  tlie  ardour  and  grace  of  a  courtier  of 
the  olden  days,  which  made  me,  even  in  ili.ii 
dread  moment,  wonder  if  he  had  ever  been  on 
the  stage,  so  dramatic  was  his  whole  l)earing, 
"I  concjratulatc  you.  \ours  is  the  coveted 
honour.     The  fates  allow  you  to  give  your  life 


for  eight  hundred  people  !     You  are   indeed  to 
be  envied." 

I  suppose  I  am  rather  stupid,  but  I  could  not 
for  the  life  of  me  see  where  the  envy  came  in. 
I  was  rapidly  reviewing  the  whole  situation.  It 
was  desperate.  Here  was  I,  in  a  train  going  at 
full  speed,  ignorant  as  to  the  whereabouts  of  the 
cord  of  communication  and  utterly  at  the 
mercy  of  a  raving  lunatic,  who  calmly  suggested 
my  throwing  myself  out  of  the  window  to  save 
an  imaginary  eight  hundred  people  !  Again  I 
thought  of  the  dear  ones  at  home  who  would  be 
left  to  mourn  my  loss,  and  in  my  agony  I  prayed 
for  deliverance  as  I  had  never  prayed  before. 

Suddenly  the  train,  which  was  going  at  full 
speed,  gave  a  lurch  to  one  side. 

"  There  I  "  shrieked  the  man  ;  "  if  you  are 
not  quick  it  will  be  too  late.  See  how  your 
weight  pulls  to  that  side." 

"The  \vindovv  is  too  high,"'  I  protested, 
hoping  to  gain  time.  "  I  could  not  possibly 
jump  from  there." 

"  Oh,  I  will  lift  you  up  and  throw  you  out," 
was  the  excited  answer,  as  the  maniac  stooped 
to  carry  out  his  diabolical  plan. 

Then  a  sudden  thought  struck  me  that  if  I 
could  only  humour  him  in  some  way  till  we 
reached  the  station  all  might  yet  be  well.  As  a 
drowning  man  catches  at  straws,  I  caught  at  my 
parcels. 

"  See,"  I  cried,  "  these  parcels,  they  are 
heavy ;    throw  them  out." 

"  Yes,  yes,  of  course,"  answered  my  perse- 
cutor, who  was  trembling  with  suppressed 
emotion.  (ireat  dro[)s  of  perspiration  rolled 
down  his  face,  and  his  eyes  were  like  living 
fires.  He  dived  eagerly  at  first  one  and  then 
another  of  my  precious  parcels,  all  of  which  put 
together  would  not  have  weighed  many  pounds. 

"  All  must  go,  all  must  go,"  he  repeated,  and 
(lr()i)|)cd  them  one  by  one  into  the  night.  It 
was  hard  to  sit  by  and  calmly  watch  my 
valuable  purchases,  that  had  cost  me  such  a 
struggle  to  get,  to  say  nothing  of  the  money 
I  had  had  to  give  for  them,  rapidly  disappear 
from  sight,  but  it  was  infinitely  preferable  to 
being  hurled  bodily  from  the  window  into  that 
black  abyss  beyond,  where  in  all  |)robability  I 
should  have  been  crushed  to  (U'ath  :  the  very 
thought  made  mc  shudder. 

"That's  much  better,"  I  said,  ihiiikiiig  I  had 
come  well  out  of  a  pretty  nasty  situation.  'I'he 
man  seemed  satisfied,  and  for  a  short  time  sat 
sinring  out  into  the  darkness.  P.ut  I  was  not 
out  of  the  wood  yet,  as  I  shortly  f  )nn(l.  My 
worst  aiitic.ij)ations  were  soon  realized.  The 
old  restlessness  was  upon  him  again. 

"  It's  no  good,  it's  still  loo  heavy  ;  yuu  must 
go,"  he  said. 


M\'    i  i:Rkii;i.i'.    loi  kNi:\-. 


AM.    MUSI-   (;(i.    Al.r.    MUST   Gf,     UK    NFI'K AIKI). 


"  I'lirow  out  my  umbrella  and  my  muff,"  I 
suggested. 

With  resdess  eagerness  he  caught  them  up 
and  flung  them  out,  but  he  was  back  imme- 
diately with  that  same  weary  cry:  "Still  too 
heavy."  Those  terrible  words  sounded  like  a 
death-knell  in  my  poor  ears.  Oh  !  should  we 
fierer  reach  the  station  ? 

"Our  boots  must  go,"'  I  said;  "they  will 
make  a  lot  of  difference." 

He  stooped  down  at  once  to  unlace  his  own, 
and,  in  his  excitement  and  feverish  hurry,  pulled 
the  lace  into  a  knot.  This  was  a  decided  bless- 
ing, for  it  took  him  some  time  to  undo.  1 
glanced  at  my  watch  and  saw  we  had  still  eleven 

minutes  before  we  were  due  at  (! .     Could 

I  hold  out  till  then  ? 

It  was  not  l(jng  before  his  boots  were  off  and 
he  was  clamouring  for  mine.  He  found  me 
struggling  with  refractory  laces  that  I  "had 
deliberately  knotted  and  which  I  pretended  to 
be  busily  undoing  whilst  my  mind  was  hard  at 
work  trying  to  devise  some  scheme  by  wiiich  to 
escape  from  this  awful  dilemma. 

"  Let  me  help   you,"  cried   my  terril)le  com 
panion.       "  \\'e    must    use    all    jiossible    speed, 
there's  so  little  time." 

lit;  was  shaking  like  a  leaf  with  the  intensity 
of  his  feelings.  It  was  this  dreadful  earnest- 
ness of  his  that   made   me  so   frightened,   for   I 


knew  he  would  sacrifice  my  life  without  a 
scruple  for  the  sake  of  that  mylhical  eiglu 
hundred.  Judging  him  better  employed  tlian 
idle,  I  gave  way  to  him.  Indeed,  I  had  no 
option,  for  he  had  seized  hold  of  my 
boot,  and  with  feelings  of  .satisfaction  I 
watched  while  he  pulled  and  tugged  the  knots 
tighter  and  tighter.  At  length,  losing  all 
patience,  he  broke  the  laces  and  tore  off  the 
boots.  When  they  had  followed  in  the  wake  of 
my  other  goods  I  ventured  to  suggest  that  his 
coat  looked  rather  iliick  and  weighty.  It  was 
off  almost  before  the  words  had  left  my  lips, 
(juickly  followed  by  his  waistcoat.  I  \\o]kx\  the 
cold  would  bring  him  to  his  senses,  but  he 
seemed  oblivious  to  everything  but  his  one  wild 
idea  of  saving  the  train.  He  cried  excitedly 
to  me  to  take  off  my  h.it  and  jacket.  My  hat 
I  gave,  not  without  many  misgivings,  for  it  was 
my  best,  a  I'aris  model.'  'I'o  see  that  madman 
clutch  at  it,  screw  it  up  in  his  hands  as  if  it 
were  a  bundle  of  rags,  and  toss  it  out  of  the 
window  :  It  was  not  pleasant,  to  say  the  least 
of  it. 

Hut  to  lake  off  my  jacket  on  that  bitterly  cold 
December  night  was  not  to  be  thought  ol.  I 
was  already  half-frozen  with  cold  and  fear,  and 
to  be  told  to  give  up  a  nice,  wnrm  coat  was  too 
much  ;  especially  as  every  minute  I  hoped  to  see 
the  dear,  familiar  station.     I  hesitated  and  was 


232 


THE     WIDE     WORLD     MAGAZINE. 


lost.  My  hesitation,  momentary  though  it  was, 
acted  like  a  torch  to  a  powder  magazine  on  the 
poor  demented  creature. 

"  Your  coat,  your  coat  !  "  he  literally  screamed, 
rushing  at  me  like  a  furious  wild  beast  ;  "  I  tell 
you  you  will  be  too  late.  The  train  is  already 
slackening  speed,  it  can't  carry  such  a  load  any 
longer.      \'ou  must  be  thrown  out." 

And  cjuick  as  lightning  he  caught  me  up  in  his 
arms  as  though  I  had  been  a  mere  feather- 
weight, and  bore  me  off  to  the  window.  All 
my  screams  and  struggles  were  of  no  avail. 
Another  second  and  I  should  have  been  thrown 
on  to  the  railway  lines  ;  but  life  was  precious, 
doubly,  trebly  precious  as  its  end  seemed  so 
near,  and  with  the  strength  of  despair  I  clung 
with  might  and  main  to  the  window-frame. 
Though  the  man  hit  and  tore  at  my  hands 
wildly  he  could  not 
m  o  \'  e  them.  It 
seemed  hours  before 
the  lights  of  the 
station — never  more 
welcome  —  appeared 
in  sight  and  the  train 
drew  up.  My  prayer 
had  been  heard  and 
answered  —  I  was 
saved  ! 

T  wo  me  n  w  h  o 
were  standing  on  the 
platform  called  out, 
excitedly,  "Here 
he  is."     And  as  they 


opened  the  carriage  door  a  mist  rose  before 
my  eyes,  a  curious  buzzing  came  in  my  head, 
and  I  fainted. 

I    learnt   afterwards    that    my    fellow-traveller 

had  escaped  that  day  from  A Asylum,  where 

he  was  looked  upon  as  a  particularly  dangerous 
patient,  with  a  fixed  idea  that  the  world  was  too 
full  and  that  someone's  life  should  be  sacrificed 
to  make  more  room. 

My  presence  of  mind  was  much  lauded,  and 
I  am  still  looked  upon  rather  in  the  light  of  a 
heroine.  \\'hen  I  look  back  on  that  awful 
nightmare  of  a  journey,  I  often  wonder  how  it 
was  my  hair  did  not  turn  white  from  sheer 
fright. 

I  recovered  a  few  of  my  parcels,  more  or  less 
damaged,  so  that,   all   things  considered,   I   did 

not  come  off  badly. 
But  I  am  very  cau- 
tious now  on  enter- 
ing trains.  I  have 
learnt  to  look  before 
I  lea[)  in,  and  I 
always  obey  the 
porters  ! 

My  journey  hap- 
pened years  ago  now, 
but  to  this  day  1 
never  travel  alone 
without  the  terrible  ex- 
perience of  that  night 
being  vividly  recalled 
to  my  mind. 


"he    bOKE    Mli   OKI-    To     I  Ml-.    WINDOW." 


-Herbert  Vivian. 


An  amusing  description  of  a  visit  to   the  wonderful  Palace  of  Heilbrunn,  where  the   Prince-Bishops  of 
Salzburg  used  to  play  all  kinds  of  tricks  upon  their  unhappy  guests.     The  footpaths   turn   into  shower- 
baths  and  the  dinner-table  into  a  water-spout,  and  traps  for  the  unwary  are  set  at  every  corner. 


N  this  serious,  practical  age  it  is 
refreshing  to  come  across  a  prac- 
tical joke  which  has  been  kept  alive 
for  nearly  three  hundred  years. 
Half  an  hour's  drive  from  the 
wonderful  old  city  of  Salzburg,  just  over  the 
Austrian  border,  lies  the  summer  palace  of 
Heilbrunn,  where  the  Prince-Bishops  of  Salz- 
burg were  wont  to  entertain  their  guests  in  a 
somewhat  remarkable  manner.  The  palace  is 
now  a  show-place,  and  an  official  in  uniform 
conducts  tourists  over  it  at  so  many  kreutzers  a 
head  ;  but  the  old  jests  are  too  good  to  be  lost, 
and  he  never  omits  to  play  them  off  on  likely 
visitors. 

I  had  visited  Heilbrunn  decorously  some 
years  ago,  but,  finding  myself  at  Salzburg  the 
other  day  with  nothing  particular  to  do,  I  deter- 
mined to  amuse  myself  Ijy  seeing  the  old  game 
played  properly.  Luckily  I  had  met  a  Yankee 
in  the  train,  coming  from  Munich,  and  his  zeal 
for  sight-seeing  rendered  him  a  ready  prey.  I 
told  him,  with  perfect  truth,  that  there  was 
nothing  like  Heilbrunn  in  Europe,  and  tiiat  it 
was  obviously  his  duty  to  make  acciuaintance 
with  its  sur[)rises. 


So  we  took  a  one-horse  chaise  from  Salzt)urg. 
and,  after  driving  some  three  or  four  miles  along 
shady  avenues,  entered  a  monastic  -  looking 
building.  We  took  tickets  at  a  penny  apiece 
and  were  given  over  to  the  custodian,  whom  I 
took  aside  for  the  purpose  of  e.xplaining  my  ftll 
designs  on  the  Yankee. 

The  keeper  first  led  the  way  to  a  group  <.)f 
three  grottos  on  the  ground  lloor.  '1  lie  one  to 
the  left  was  a  very  ingenious  artificial  ruin,  dating 
from  1613.  The  whole  roof  seemed  on  the 
point  of  falling  in.  There  were  bricks  and 
rafters  which  looked  as  though  they  were  in 
imminent  danger  of  burying  us  at  any  moment. 
Indeed,  the  bricks  were  so  cunningly  balanced 
that  it  seemed  incredible  they  couK!  remain 
as  they  were  a  week,  let  alone  two  hundred  and 
eighty  nine  years. 

lo  the  right  was  a  grotto  whose  roof  consisted 
of  enormous  artificial  stalactites.  Uv  the 
farther  wall  was  a  fountain  with  a  cir»  in, 

round  which   revolveil  a  merman,  a  i  \  a 

dragon,  and  a  ilolphin,  all  cx(|uisitely  .ue, 

an(i  all  breathing  water  vociferously.  I  he 
custodian  touched  a  spring,  and  all  of  a  sudden 
t'le  grotto  was  filled   with   the   melody  of  birds  : 


234 


THE    WIDE     WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


r.lK   liHOITO    WHEKK   THE     MKCHAMCAI.     iilKDS   SING — liV     lUKMN'i 
HANDLE   A   TREMENDOUS   SHOWER-IiAl  H    IS   MADE  TO    DESCEND 
ON   THE   VISITOR. 

From  a  Photo,  by  WitrthU  6^  Sohn. 


suspicious,  though  the  solemnity  of  the  custodian 
would  have  taken  in  anybody.  However,  we 
led  him  along  a  gravel  path,  where  a  set  of  five 
mechanical  contri\ances,  in  grottos  framed 
with  box-hedges,  were  set  in  motion.  Each  of 
them  was  about  eighteen  inches  high,  and  they 
were  wonderfully  clever.  The  first  represented 
a  knife-grinder.  There  was  a  little  man  turning 
a  wheel,  while  his  wife  held  a  knife  to  be 
sharpened  and  nodded  her  head  excitably. 
On  the  floor  was  a  smajl  boy,  flat  on  his 
stomach,  emitting  a  shower  of  water  from 
his  mouth.  Next  we  came  to  a  group  of 
two  men  :  one  with  a  dark  brown  skin  was 
shaking  his  head  and  right  arm,  evidently  to 
express  decided  refusal,  while  the  other,  with  a 
lyre  beside  him  on  the  ground,  was  tapping  his 
companion's  chest  as  though  appealing  for 
something  in  vain.  They  were  said  to  repre- 
sent Mars  and  Apollo,  but  I  cannot  remember 
any  appropriate  event  in  their  history.  After 
this  we  saw  a  little  miller  busily  grinding  corn, 
which  came  out  in  a  stream  of  sticky-looking 
flour.     The    fourth     group    was,    perhaps,     the 


larks,  nightingales,  thrushes,  cuckoos,  and 
even  owls.  The  sounds  were  obviously 
mechanical,  but  no  less  surprising. 

In  the  central  grotto  was  a  fountain, 
presided  over  by  a  Neptune.  On  either 
hand  was  a  seahorse,  which  blew  forth 
clouds  of  water.  In  the  centre  I  saw  a 
grotesque  mask,  which  every  half  minute 
rolled  its  eyes,  protruded  a  long  tongue, 
and  slobbered  out  a  mouthful  of  water. 
This  mask  was  extremely  fascinating,  and 
I  could  have  continued  to  watch  it  by  the 
hour.  However,  I  caught  the  eye  of  the 
custodian,  and  we  strolled  outside,  leaving 
the  American  in  an  ecstasy  over  the  in- 
genuity of  the  mechanism.  Then  ihc 
keeper  turned  a  cock,  and  all  of  a  sudden 
n  tremendous  shower-bath  came  down  from 
ihe  roof  of  the  grotto,  deluging  our  friend 
to  the  skin.  I  retired  convulsed,  but  the 
(  ustodian  was  abject  in  his  apologies,  and 
the  Yankee  rushed  out,  inclined  to  be  irate, 
though  soon  pacified. 

I  lid  him  to  one  side  and  bade  him 
admire  the  rainbow  now  [jlaying  u[)on  the 
shower-bath.  Above  us  on  either  side  of 
the  entrance  to  the  grotto  was  a  stag's 
head.  I  winked  at  the  custodian  and 
withdrew  a  few  paces.  Our  friend  was 
wra[)pcd  in  admiration  of  the  exfiuisite 
effects,  when  suddenly  from  the  mouth,  nose, 
and  horns  of  (  afh  stag  a  second  shower 
bath  fell  upon  our  unfortunate  victim. 

J5y  this  lime  he  was  beginning  to  grow 


DOiiKWAV    Wlfl:|;l:: 

10 III  a\ 


I  HE     ALTIIUK.S     AMERICAN      I- 
SECOND    DKENCIIINti. 


;1X'I- IVKI)     HIS 

\rhotc. 


A     l".\l..\(   i:     Ol      I'kACllLAL    JCJKKS. 


235 


l\ 


A 


THERE   SHOT    UP    FROM    THE    EDGES   OF    THE    PATH    TWO  SETS  OF    FOUNTAINS,  WHICH 
Frovi  a\  played   with    CONSIDF.RAIiLE    FORCE."  {Photo. 


quaintest  of  them  all.  In  the  centre  was 
Aiidroineda  bound  to  a  rocky  island,  round 
which  a  black  dragon  floated  very  fast.  'i'o 
the  right  stood  Perseus  in  full  armour,  with 
atlrnwn  sword  in  his  hand.  Every  time  the 
dragon  swam  past  him  he  brought  down  his 
sword  with  great  violence  upon  its  head,  but  the 
dragon  pasned  on  quite  unperturbed  and  imme- 
diately came  round  again  to  receive  another 
blow.  Finally,  we  saw  an  ingenious  representa- 
tion of  a  potter,  turning  his  wheel  with  his  feet, 
in  the  act  of  completing  a  huge  earthenware  jar. 

Facing  these  grottos  on  the  other  side  of  the 
road  was  a  striking  marble  statue  of  Venus.  At 
her  feet  were  a  dolphin  and  a  large  bouquet  of 
bright  flowers  enclosed  in  a  bell-glass  such  as 
careful  people  put  over  their  clocks.  The  glass 
seemed  to  glisten  strangely.  I  could  vow  it  was 
moving.  Then,  to  my  amazement,  I  discovered 
that  it  was  actually  composed  of  water  which 
issued  from  the  dolphin's  mouth  1  It  was 
certainly  the  strangest  and  most  beautiful  illusion 
in  all  this  garden  of  surprises. 

Nearer  the  path  was  a  basin  some  two  feet  in 
<irriimfcrence.  Over  the  edges  of  it  |)rojecte(l 
two  bronze  tortoi-ses,  and  their  mouths  were 
actually  connected  by  a  thin   stream  of  water. 


for  all  the  world  like  a  rod  of  crystal.     W)-  com- 
panion was  loud  and  enthusiastic  in  his  appreci- 
ation, and  bent   eagerly  over   the   contrivance, 
trying  to  discover   the   secret   of  it.     He  had 
now   evidently    forgotten    all   about    his    recent 
drenchings.     The  custodian's  eye  twinkled  as  it 
met  mine  and  westrolledahcad,  leavingour  friend 
in  deep  contemplation.     Of  a  sudden  there  shot 
up  from  the  etlges  of  the  path,  at  an  angle  of 
45deg.,  two  sets  of  fountains,  which  played  with 
considerable  force  upon  the  unfortunate  Yankee 
for  a  distance  of  several  yards.      Me  gave  a  cry 
of  fury  and  leaped  into  the  air  before  he  quite 
realized  what  had  happened.     Then  he  fled  like 
a   madman,    running   the  gauntlet   through   the 
water  to  our  place  of  safety.      For  a  moment  I 
thought  he  was  going  to  be  seriously  angry,  but 
Unkily  he  possessed  a  certain  sense  of  humour, 
though    it    did    not    enable    him    to   reach    my 
lengths   of    u[)roarious    merriment.       Kven    the 
custodian  was  forced  to  unbend  a  little,  and  an 
approach  to  a  grim  smile  played  over  his  stolid 
counti-nance. 

.\  few  yards  fiirther  on  we  rame  upon  the 
most  ambitious  feature  of  the  whole  place. 
ICverything  else  dates  from  i^hj.  but  this 
ingenious   piece  of  work  was   not   made   until 


!36 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


1750.  It  is  a  mechanical  theatre  vvliich,  accord- 
ing to  a  Latin  inscription,  was  erected  by 
Andrew  Jacob,  Archbishop  and  Prince  of 
Salzburg,  with  the  objects  "of  resolving  t!ie 
doubt  whether  Art  is  superior  to  Nature  or 
Nature  to  Art,"  and  "of  enaliling  a  delighted 
posterity  to  behold  this  monument."  It  is 
some  six  feet  high  by  ten  or  twelve  broad,  and 
crowded  with  little  figures.  I  am  told  that 
there  are  in  all  one  hundred  and  twenty  which 
move  and  one  hundred  and  forty-three  which 
remain  still. 

The    scene    is    laid    in    front    of   a   gorgeous 
palace,    at   the  en- 
trance   to   which 
sentinels      in      the 
white     uniform     of  ^  ' 

the  Prince-Bishop's 


first  floor,  and  a  smith  with  bellows  under- 
neath. Weavers,  tailors,  etc.,  are  also  to  be 
descried.  In  the  foreground  on  the  extreme 
right  we  have  a  barrel  of  wine  on  tap.  Next 
come  two  peasants  gambling  on  the  top  of  a 
cask,  and  then  a  butcher  is  felling  an  ox.  He 
raises  a  hammer  and  brings  it  down  with  a  sharp 
blow,  whereupon  the  beast  falls  on  to  its  knees, 
but  speedily  recovers,  so  that  the  operation  may 
be  performed  over  again.  To  the  immediate 
left  of  the  entrance  are  some  gunners  practising 
with  a  cannon,  and  beyond  them  a  portion  of 
the  garrison  are  piling  their  arms.     It  would  be 

tedious    to   de- 
v^_  -_-.  scribe  every  figure 

in  detail,  but 
enough  has  been 
said  to  give  a  fair 


From  a\ 


THE   WONDERFUL    MECHANICAL   THEATRE — IT   CONTAINS   A    HVWDKKn   AND   TWENTY   MOVING    FIOURES. 


iPhpto. 


grenadiers  are  pacing  up  and  down.  At  the 
doors  and  on  the  various  balconies  above  we 
es[)y  soldiers,  courtiers,  noble  dames,  turbaned 
Turks,  and  a  negro  who  waves  his  hand 
incessantly.  The  rest  of  the  piece  re[)rcsents 
an  infinite  variety  of  trades  at  work.  On  the 
upper  floor  to  the  left  a  number  of  builders  are 
com|)leting  a  wing  of  the  palace,  hoisting  planks 
by  a  pulley  and  affixing  them  to  the  roof, 
carrying  bricks,  putting  on  mortar,  etc.  On 
the  ground  floor  a  hosier  is  dispensing  his  wares, 
and  we  see  two  white  stf)ckings  set  u[)  over  his 
shop  as  a  sign.  'I'he  right  wing  is  given  over 
to    a    baker    upstairs,    a    wine  maker    on    the 


idea  of  their  ingenuity  and  versatility.  The 
noise  also  is  very  realistic,  and  the  clatter  of 
arms,  the  buzz  of  industry,  and  the  sense  of 
hurry  are  all  appropriately  rendered. 

Tlie  custodian  was  moving  to  a  handle  in  the 
wall,  but  the  Yankee  now  took  care  to  stand 
close  beside  him.  A  very  fine  shower-bath  has 
been  provided  for  the  spectators  of  this  uniciue 
theatre,  but  this  time  the  turning  of  the  handle 
afforded  us  a  more  agreeable  surprise  ;  an  organ 
began  to  i)Iay.  Like  everything  else  here,  it  is 
mechanical  and  worked  by  water-power. 

We  now  pass  on  to  the  Crown  grolto,  |)erha})s 
the  most  fantastic  of  the  many  wonderful  sights 


!37 


>"v*'#; 


at  IK  ilhniDii.  It  is  a  little  liniisc  wiili  four 
towers.  The  roof  inside  is  decoraletl  wiili 
artilitial  stalactites  and  the  walls  arc  covered 
with  porcelain  and  other  gaudy  ornaments, 
which  would  be  voted  vuii^ar  if  tliey  were  not 
excused  by  their  age.  In  tiie  centre  of  the 
entrance  is  a  stran.,'e  j)yram;tl,  some  three  or 
four  feet  high,  h  is  surmounted  by  a  carved 
laurel  wreath  and  a  bright  metal  crown.  We 
pass  along  a  passage  to  the  back  and  peer 
through  an  opening.  Immediately  in  front  of 
us  is  the  crowned  pyra 
mid,  and  outside  and 
beyond  it  is  a  huge 
marble  statue  of  Apollo. 

Something  is  evidently 
going  to  happen,  and  our 
Yankee  remarks  that  at 
any  rate  he  cannot  be 
much  wetter  than  he  is. 
The  crown  is  beginning 
to  move  in  a  mysterious 
way.  It  seems  to  be 
struggling  against  some 
unseen  power  in  jn  effort 
to  rise.  At  last  it  pre- 
vails, and  we  behold  it 
very  slowly  ascending 
until  it  is  suspended  fully 
six  feet  above  the  pyra- 
mid, at  the  top  of  a  jet 
of  water.  There  it  re- 
mains almost  motionless 
with  a  ray  of  light  play- 
ing upon  it  from  outside, 
and  by  a  curious  optical 
illusion  it  seems,  from 
where  we  are,  to  be  poised 
over  the  head  of  Apollo 
outside.  This  grotto  is 
provided  with  the  most 
com[)lete  practical  joke  of 
any,  for,  while  you  are 
inside  watching  the  up- 
lifting of  the  crown, 
violent  jets  of  water  can 
be  turned  on  from  walls,  floor,  and  ceiling,  and 
you  must  compass  a  distance  of  fully  twenty 
yards  to  get  out  into  the  open.  And  even  when 
you  emerge  u[)on  the  footi)alh  you  are  con- 
fronted by  a  statue  of  Minerva,  from  whose 
pedestal  a  fresh  torrent  of  water  plays  upon  you 
as  though  to  drive  you  back. 

.After  passing  a  small  pond  with  metal  figures 
of  -ActKon  and  his  hounds  we  come  to  The 
Monster,  one  of  the  most  celebrated  sights  of 
the  place.  Whether  we  believe  its  story  or  not, 
there  is  no  doul)t  about  the  existence  of  full 
particulars  in  the  local  archives.      I  lere  are  some 


A    I'.M.ACK    oi'    I'RACriCAl.     lOKp.^. 

the  official    record,  dated    Innnarv 


extracts  from 
I  ydi,   I  74.S  ; 
"  In   the  year 


of  our   Lord  1 


:).>'.  "iiiiiiig  luc 


reign 


■tun   CKOW.N    ORoriO-     ...I.     V  „   ...    .      ,,     ,;.    .i,.     .. 
ItV   A   JET   l)K    WATER. 

From  a  Plwtp.  by  ll'iirl/ife  <5r»  So/in. 


ot  ms  I'rincely  Hminence  Cardinal  Arch- 
bishop Matthew  Lang,  etc.,  a  forest-devil  or 
monster  was  caught  at  a  hunt  near  Haunsberg, 
in  the  district  of  Laufen.  It  had  a  nun's 
bearded  face,  eagle's  claws,  and  the  jaws  of  a 
dog.  It  avoided  men's  looks  and  sought  refuge 
in  all  the  corners  of  its  cage.  As  neither  force  nor 
persuasion  could  induce  it  to  take  food  or  drink, 

it  presently  died  of 
hunger.  ...  His  Princely 
(hace  Archbishop 
Marcus  Sitticus,  etc., 
having,  one  hundred  and 
thirty  years  later,  com- 
memorated this  event  by 
a  painting  on  wood  at  his 
princely  pleasure-grounds 
of  Ileilhrunn,  now  there- 
fore it  has  pleased  his 
Princely  (irace  Arch- 
bishop John  Ernest,  etc., 
as  a  particular  patron  of 
hunting,  to  prepare  two 
marble  statues  of  the 
same." 

One  of  these  is  now  to 
be  seen  in  the  gardens, 
surrounded  by  a  low  wall. 
.\s  it  was  carved  two 
hundred  and  seventeen 
vears  after  the  capture  of 
the  "monster,"  it  would 
be  idle  to  expect  a  speak- 
ing likeness.  At  any  rate, 
we  have  the  representa- 
tion of  a  very  weird 
creature,  suggestive  of  one 
of  the  beasts  in  the  Ajx)- 
calypse,  and  the  expres- 
sion of  its  face  is  as 
wonderful  as  it  is  horrible. 
The  most  probable  ex- 
planation of  the  pheno- 
menon is  that  some  cra/.y  person  had  taken  to 
the  woods  and  lived  there  the  life  of  a  b.-.ist  for 
many  years  before  he  was  captureil. 

Having  exhausted  this  part  of  the  walci  works 
and  their  various  surprises,  we  passed  on  to 
explore  the  beautiful  garden.  Passing  through 
an  extensive  park,  where  the  Prince-Bishops 
used  to  kec|)  deer,  we  reach  the  Stone  Theatre, 
which  consists  of  a  huge  cave  in  the  side  of  the 
rock.  Hence  we  climbed  up  to  the  Monat- 
S  hlosschen.  "the  little  castle  which  was  built  in 
a  month,"  and  eiijoyeti  a  magnificent  panoramic 
view  over  the  park  and  gardens,  right  away  to 


«^> 


,111-:  AIR 


238 


THE    WIDE    WORLD     MACAZIXi'.. 


the  lofty  mountains  whicli  surround  Salzl)urg. 
Returning  now  to  the  Prince-Bishop's  palace, 
we  welcomed  the  sight  of  a  restaurant  after  our 
long  walk  and  many  surprises.  Our  victim  had 
by  now  been  lulled  to  a  sense  of  false  security, 
and  readily  agreed  to  take  his  refreshment  out 
of  doors  at  the  Prince-Bishop's  table. 

We  came  now  to  the  finest  and  richest  of  all 
the  Prince-Bishop's  practical  jokes.  The  famous 
table  where  he  was  wont  to  entertain  his  guests 
when  a  mischievous  mood  got  the  better  of  him 
stands  in  front  of  a  semi-circular  wall  of 
mosaics.  In  the  centre  of  this  wall,  l)eiieath  the 
Prince-Bishop's  arms,  stands  the  marble  statue 
of  a  Conqueror,  and  on  either  side  of  the  semi- 
circle are  marble  statues  of  Democritus  and 
Heraclitus.  On  the  other  side  of  the  table 
is  an  ornamental  pond,  where  various  fantastic 
statues  are  to  be  seen. 

The  table  itself  is  long  and  low,  with  a  hollow 
in  the  centre.  There  are  three  stools  on  either 
side,  and  one  for  the  host  at  the  toii.  Our 
Yankee  took  his  seat  at  the  head  of  the  table, 
fortunately  not  noticing  a  suspicious  little  hole 
in  the  centre  of  his  stool.  At  the  suggestion 
of  the  custodian,  half-a-dozen  unsuspecting 
peasants     who    chanced     to    be    present    took 


the  other  seats,  while  grinning  waiters 
brought  (iarganluan  mugs  of  beer.  "Now,"' 
said  I  to  the  Yankee,  "you  see  you  are  in 
as  democratic  a  country  as  your  own.  You 
are  cheek  by  jowl  with  the  lowliest  in  the 
land,  carousing  together  at  a  table  where  the 
Prince  Bisliops  of  Salzburg  were  wont  to  enter- 
tain their  noble  guests.  The  least  you  can  do 
is  to  get  up  and  propose  a  toast."  He  was  tired 
and  begged  me  to  "shut  up,"  but  I  persisted, 
reminding  him  of  the  traditional  courtesy  of  his 
countrymen.  He  was  inclined  to  be  abusive, 
but  I  gave  him  just  one  more  chance,  saying 
that  if  he  still  declined  to  make  a  speech  I 
should  have  to  use  more  forcible  persuasion. 
His  only  answer  was  to  bury  his  nose  in  his 
beer-mug.     Then  I  gave  the  signal. 

From  the  centre  of  each  stool,  from  the 
centre  of  the  table,  and  from  the  neighbouring 
footpaths  and  statues  there  came  vehement 
water-spouts.  It  would  be  too  much  to  say  that 
our  friend  and  the  six  peasants  were  shot  into 
the  air,  but  the  agility  with  which  they  leaped 
up,  .sacrificing  their  beer-mugs,  and,  soaked  and 
spluttering,  fled  away,  afforded  as  laughable  a 
surprise  as  any  I  had  beheld  througlioul  that 
merry  day. 


rilK     I'RINCK-IIISHOI' K    DININO-TAIll.K— A I    A    OIVl-.N     .Ml,NAI,     A     WAIKKSIHUI      KIShS     KRCJM     THE 
CKNTRK   OK    liACM    STOOL,    WHII.K   THE    NKIi;HlinUKIN(:    SIATUKS    ALSO    TOUR   ToRUENI'S 

OP    WATKR    UI'ON    THK    I'NKdRTUN-ATK    PrNKRS.  \/'/lo/(>. 


from  a] 


DIAMOND  CUT   DIAMOND. 

15v   Him,   Rowan. 

Caught    in  a    rainstorm    in    New    Zealand,    the    author    sought    shelter    at    a    lonely  hut,  only  to 

find    that     his    host    was     a     noted     desperado,     badly    wanted    for    a    score    of    crimes.       The 

eventful  happenings  of  the  night   are  described    in  the  story. 


1 1 1'^  name  of  I'liiicral  (Jorge  is  not  an 
inviting  one.  One  realizes  the  fact 
still  more  clearly  when  riding  down 
its  mtirderous  track  at  one  in  the 
morning  on  a  beaten  horse  and  in  a 
rising  storm. 

And  when  — just  as  the  first  angry  rain-drops 
fall  and  the  preliminary  snarl  of  the  New 
Zealand  sou'-wester  rushes 
down  the  gully — the  turn- 
ing of  a  corner  discloses 
a  stranger  of  peculiarly 
villainous  appearance, 
even  the  trained  bushman 
may  be  excused  for  feel- 
ing that  there  have  been 
pleasanter  situations  in 
his  life. 

Such  at  least  were  my 
feelings  when,  in  the 
year  i8 — ,  and  at  a  spot 
which  may  not  be  too 
accurately  located  for  the 
sake  of  those  still  living 
there,  I  was  caught  late 
at  night  in  a  "southerly 
buster." 

Vou  always  know  when 
vou  are  cauj^rht  in  a  New 
Zealand  sou'-wester.  Like 
the  New  Zealanders  them- 
selves, the  weather  makes 
up  its  mind  quickly  and 
immediately  acts  upon  it. 
You  could  time  with  a 
stop-watch      the     change 

from  a  broiling  nor'-wester  to  a  storm  of  ice- 
cold  rain,  you  can  almost  see  the  glass  rise  and 
the  withered  grass  grow,  and  the  rain  is  worth 
pounds  a  minute  to  the  weary  "run-holder." 
You  don't  "think  it's  going  to  be  wet"  or 
"  e.xpect  the  warm  weather  is  o\er  "  ;  you  Imn 
your  horse's  tail  to  the  wind  and  galUjp  wildly 
for  shelter. 


rmc    AUIIIDR,    MK.    Mll.l.    KOWAN. 
I'rom  n  riwto.  hy  Chnncelior,  Duhliii. 


I  did  not  hesitate,  therefore,  when  the  un- 
kempt stranger  I  had  stumbled  across  addressed 
me  as  "  mate  " — a  word  which  the  Colonial 
navvy  will  use  to  an  Archbishop  or  a  I-'icld- 
Marshal— and  offered  me  a  shakedown  in  his 
shanty. 

One  does  not  in  such  circumstances  ask  for 
particulars  of  the  antecedents  of  one's  host,  a 

reference  to  a  clergy- 
man, or  a  plan  of  the 
drainage  system.  I  let 
him  seize  the  bridle  and 
drag  me  and  my  horse 
through  some  unrecog- 
nisable track  in  the 
manuka  scrub  to  a  small 
shanty  thatched  with  the 
same  manuka  and  built 
of  rough  -  hewn  totara 
wood.  Hanging  my 
horse  up  to  dry,  so  to 
speak,  inside  a  natural 
cave  in  the  precipitous 
hillside,  I  crawled  into  the 
hut,  negotiated  a  gla.ss 
of  whisky,  and  applied 
external  heat  to  my  drip- 
ping clothes  in  front  of 
the  fire. 

In  a  house  like  this 
one  may  live  on  about 
'^we.  pounils  a  year,  in- 
<lusive  (keeping  a  horse 
and  doing  some  enter- 
taining), provitlcd  one 
makes  clothes  anil  bools 
out  of  sacking  and  cowhide  and  is  a  good  shot. 
Moreover,  if  one's  antecedents  are  doubtful  the 
privacy  is  charming,  and  the  bush  affords 
every  facility  for  evailing  tiie  mounted  police, 
who  come  roiuul  occasionally  wiih  the  photo- 
graph of  .some  crimin.il  of  whom  thiv  are  in 
search. 

At    least,    however   s[)ulless  one  b   miiocence, 


240 


THE    WIDr:    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


"l    AI'PLIEO    EXTERNAI-    HtAl     HJ    MV    IJKlI'l'lNU    CLOTHES    IN    KRON  r   OK     IHK    I  IICl 


there  is  a  comfortable  feeling  thai  by  keeping 
clear  of  the  authorities  altogether  one  can  never 
l)e  arrested  for  anything,  and  at  a  neighbouring 
sheep-run  during  sliearing  time  the  casual  arrival 
of  the  police  was  generally  the  signal  for  every 
man  in  the  shearing-shed  to  gallop  for  the  open 
country. 

In  this  reassuring  environment  I  was  to  spend 
a  night. 

My  friend  (juickly  got  ready  a  meal  of  the 
inevitable  mutton  and  the  eternal  stewed  tea 
and  we  sat  down.  On  a  closer  inspection  I  liked 
the  look  of  him  still  less  than  I  had  done  at 
first. 

As  wo  talked  he  carefully  examined  my 
clothes,  my  boots,  the  ring  on  my  hnger — in 
fact,  everything  except  my  face,  which  he 
studiously  avoided.  His  jaw  was  heavy  and 
hung  at  an  unf)leasant  angle,  and  irregular 
habits  had  set  tlicir  unmistakable  seal  ujjon  his 
brow.  Yet  under  the  rough  veneer  which  a 
bush  life  invariably  produces  there  were  traces 
of  education  and   refinement.      IJut  the  more  1 


looked  at  him  the  more  certainly 
the  conviction  grew  upon  me 
that  I  had  seen  him  before,  and 
under  discreditable  circum- 
stances, though  for  the  life  of 
me  I  could  not  recall  the 
occasion. 

Tea  was  over,  and  with  the 
storm  shrieking  furiously  outside 
we  sat  down  to  entertain  each 
other.  First  he  invited  me  to 
throw  for  sixpences,  but  the 
dice  were  so  palpably  loaded 
that  I  felt  the  offer  to  be  an 
insult  to  my  intelligence.  He 
then  proposed  euchre,  to  which 
I  acceded  (for  low  points,  so 
that  I  could  not  be  too  readily 
robbed),  glancing  at  the  cards 
to  see  that  the  backs  were  not 
too  obtrusively  marked  and  that 
there  were  not  more  than  six 
aces  in  the  pack.  I  also  furtively 
examined  his  coat-sleeves  for  a 
secret  card-box  or  a  "  hold-out," 
He  pressed  me  to  sit  where  I 
should  have  a  looking-glass 
behind  me  ;  I  declined  this,  but 
manoeuvred  unsuccessfully  for 
some  time  to  get  him  to  ta4':e 
that  particular  seat  himself.  AVe 
had  each  now  asserted  our- 
selves as  keen  men  of  the  world 
who  understood  each  other. 

Something  in  the  man's  eyes 
puzzled  me.  I  knew  his  face 
perfectly,  yet  a  few  questions  convinced 
me  that  he  had  never  seen  mine.  What 
was  I  to  infer  from  this?  Probably  that 
I  had  been  one  of  the  .spectators  in  some 
building  where  he  had  occupied  a  prominent 
position. 

It  is  thus  that  we  recognise  some  well-known 
actor  or  public  speaker  when  we  meet  him, 
and  feel  surprised  that  the  recognition  is  not 
mutual. 

"  Take  your  drink,  mate  ;  it'll  keep  the  cold 
out,"  said  my  liost. 

I  was  so  absorbed  in  thought  that  his  voice 
sounded  as  distant  as  if  he  were  in  another 
room.  He  had  seen  suspicion  in  my  eyes,  and 
now  I  read  it  in  his.  I  drank  his  villainous 
liquor  mechanically  ;  it  might  have  been  I'Vench 
polish,  but  I  inclined  to  ciiaritableness  and  put 
it  down  as  only  pain-killer. 

"  N'our  deal,  mate,"  he  prompted. 
We  were  still   at   euchre --the  national  game 
of  New  Zealand,  as   it   might  almost  be  called, 
lie  won  steadily,   though   I  could   see   nothing 


DTA^foXI)    rri"     1)I.\M()\1> 


241 


definitely  unfair  in  his  play.  Vruc,  he  lield  the 
jack  and  a  "right  bower"  suspiciously  often, 
and  occasionally  ''  bridged  "  the  pack  when 
handing  it  to  me  to  cut.  But  I  had  had  some 
experience  of  sharping,  and  took  out  the 
"  bridge  "  by  gently  squeezing  tlie  pack 
between  my  fingers.  This  increased  his  respect 
for  me  immensely. 

Handing  me  the  pack  the  next  time  his  loose 
cuff  fell  right  back  from  his  wrist. 

What  was  that  on  his  forearm? 

Only  a  blue  tattoo  mark  of  curious  design,  to 
be  sure  ;  but  in  a  single  instant  it  revealed  to 
me  the  history  of  a  lifetime. 

Like  a  flash  I  remembered  where  I  had  last 
seen  him — it  was  in  the  prisoners'  dock  !  (lOod 
heavens  I  this  was  the  professional  desperado 
who  had  played  the  title-role  in  one  of  the  most 
sensational  cases  in  the  annals  of  the  Austra- 
lasian law  courts  for  the  last  ten  years.  I  was 
in  the  power  of  a  man  who  would  think  no  more 
of  cutting  my  throat  than  of  eating  his  breakfast. 
His  gang  had  carried  on  robbery  under  arms  as 


so  many  sentences  that  it  was  impularly  repf)rted 
that  he  would  have  been  one  hundred  and  fifty 
years  in  prison  if  ht-  had  served  his  full  time  I 

My  host's  ph()tugra[jh  and  the  extraordinary 
tattoo  mark  had  been  reprodu<  cd  in  all  tlic 
leading  newspapers.  He  had  been  captured,  I 
remembered,  sentenced,  and  then  escaped  — 
with  the  a.ssistance  of  that  public  which  is  ever 
ready  to  supply  with  food  and  abiding  place  tiie 
criminal  who  has  been  preying  upon  it  for  years. 

I  had  now  no  doubt  that  my  life  might  l)e 
in  serious  danger.  He  had  seen  the  jewelled 
ring  upon  my  finger,  and  in  a  single  glance  had 
taken  in  the  points  of  the  excellent  hunter  which 
I  had  been  riding  instead  of  the  usual  ten- 
pound  stock-horse.  I  wore  two  spurs — an 
affectation  of  full  -  dress  and  "  side "  often 
peculiarly  offensive  to  Colonial  bushmen— and 
even  this  little  fact  disclosed  me  to  be  a  man 
of  social  position,  and  therefore  probably  of 
substance.     In  short,  1  was  worth  murdering. 

But  good  peo[)le  are  scarce,  and,  besides,  I 
have  had  all   my  life  a   [xirticular  objection  to 


'  MV   CCINVICT    HOST   GLIDFl)   TO   THK    IXIOR. 


an  organized  industry.  Their  happy  and  peace- 
able household  had  included  a  forger,  two 
murderers,  an  excellent  cook  badly  "wanted" 
ff)r  bigamy,  and  a  gentleman  who -between 
reprieves  and  escapes  from  gaol-  had  received 
Vol.  v. -31. 


being  murdered.  I'loblem  :  How  lo  spend  the 
night  in  this  gentleman's  society  and  insure 
being  alive  in  the  morning  ? 

I  had  not  so  much  as  a  knife  in  my  bell,  and 
.■v<  n  if  I   had  should   hardiv  have  a  chance  in  a 


242 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


liand -to-hand    di'^russioti    with    an    expert    like 
this. 

Stay  !  1  put  my  hand  in  my  pocket  and  felt 
for  a  small  paper  i)acket.  I  took  it  out  un- 
ostentatiously. There  was  tohacco  insecticide 
powder  inside,  which  I  had  been  using  in  my 
garden  the  day  before  ;  it  was  medicated. 

Would  it  act  as  a  narcotic  or  would  it  kill 
my  man  outright  ?  I  had  to  take  the  latter  as 
an  ordinary  business  risk  ;  it  was  no  time  for 
going  into  intricate  questions  of  chemistry  or 
medicine.  I  should  be  only  saving  the  hang- 
man's fee  in  any  case. 

"Listen!"!  exclaimed,  as  I  started  half  up. 
"  There's  some- 
one outside  !  I 
heard  him  sing 
out.  If  it's  the 
police " 

I  had  touched 
the  right  chord. 
Instinctively  feel- 
ing for  some  con- 
cealed weapon, 
my  convict  host 
glided  to  the  door 
and  instantly 
vanished.  Of 
course,  he  was 
back  again  at 
once  —  it  would 
have  been  strange 
if  he  had  found 
anybody  there  — 
but  the  powder 
was  already  drop- 
ped into  his 
drink. 

"You  must 
have  a  guilty  con- 
science, mate,"  he 
observed,  with 
some  relief,  re- 
gaining colour. 
"  'I'here  was  no- 
thing." 

"My  horse, 
f)robably,"  I  said. 
"'I'hought  he'd 
get  some  more 
oats    if    he    kicked    u])   a    row." 

He  did  not  take  the  hint,  but  sat  down  again 
i)eside  his  drink.  It  seemed  a  century  before  he 
finished  it,  and  the  game  of  cards  was  getting 
laboured  ;  for  the  suspicion  which  I  had  noticed 
in  his  eyes  had  evidently  given  jilace  to  a 
certainty  that  I  knew  too  much  about  iiim. 

With  supreme  relief  I  saw  the  narcotic  take 
effect.      His  eyes  grew  heavy,  the  cards  dropped 


helplessly  from  his  hands,  and  I  watched 
breathlessly  for  the  moment  when  it  would  be 
safe  to  lash  his  hands  and  feet.  Suddenly,  to 
my  utter    dismay,   1   found    myself  giving    way 

He^    had 


sensations 


my 
my  1 
to 
fresh 


eyes 
imbs, 
make 
night 

faint 


to     exactly     similar 

drugged  me! 

With     the    room     fading    before 

and  a   fatal    numbness  coming  over 

the   only    idea     I    could    form     was 

an    effort   to  get   outside    into    the 

air. 

I    stumbled    from   my  chair.       I    have 

recollections  of  his  doing  the  same.     Then  two 

people  seemed  to  reach  the  door  together  and 

grapple.        One 
;  drew    a     revolver 

and  the  other 
seized  it  and 
threw  it  across 
the  room,  whence 
neither  of  them 
had  sufficient 
strength  to  fetch 
it.  Then  one  of 
the  men  crumpled 
up  like  a  paper 
bag  and  slithered 
on  to  the  floor. 

Then     all    was 
dark. 


^Ve 


together 


rilKN    TWO    I'KOl'I.E   .SKEMKI)    TO    RK.AClr    THE    DOOK    1  (>(;E  TIIEK    AM)    C.KAI'II.E. 


recovered 
next 
morning.     He 
must  have  touched 
me  with    his   foot 
when     he    awoke, 
for  when  I  opened 
my    eyes  —  sur- 
prised to  find  not 
only     m  y    w  i  n  d  • 
pipe     intact      but 
my      watch      and 
\  a  1  u  a  b  1  e  s    still 
"there"  — he   was 
struggling     feebly 
to   his  feet.     The 
broad  sunshine  of 
a  glorious  day  was 
flooding  the  room. 
There  was    no  need   to  throw  myself  on   the 
defensive.      My  host   approached    me   with   the 
most  obvious  marks  of  respect  and  esteem  and 
helped  me  to  get  up. 

"  You've  done  me,  mate,"  he  exclaimed,  weakly, 
as  he  placed  his  hand  upon  my  shoulder.  "  You've 
enougli  drugs  inside  your  carcass  to  kill  two 
men,  yet  here  you  are  still  as  good  as  I  am,  and 
you've  poisoned  me  somehow  into  the  bargain." 


t 


•*%'^'^— '"TV- 


DIAMOND     err     I'lAMOXD. 


543 


My  aruteness  had  so  impressed  him  tiiat  he 
now  obviously  welcomed  me  in  the  hght  of  a 
brother  criminal,  and  without  a  tinge  of  profes- 
sional jealousy  he  held  my  hand,  meeting  me 
with  the  easy  frankness  of  one  polished  gentle- 
man dealing  with  another. 

"  To  tell  you  the  truth,  old  chap,"  he  went 
on,  "  iny  head's  like  a  luiii[)  of  lead.  Just  hold 
up  till  1  cook  some  tea." 

"  I  should  like  some,"'  I  answered  ;  "  my 
nerves  are  a  shipwreck,  and  I'm  gone  in  the 
knees.  What  was  that  drug  you  used,  by-the- 
bye  ?  " 

"Ah  !  that's  a  trade  secret,"  he  replied  with  a 
smile  ;  "  and,  besides,  these  aren't  '  business 
hours.'     Don't  talk  shop  ;  just  lower  this  tea." 

The  tea,  which  had  probably  been  simmering 
in  the  custom- 
ary way  for  a 
week  or  two, 
was  now  re- 
suscitated into 
a  rechaulfe  con- 
dition by  the 
insertion  of  a 
little  dried 
scrub  into  the 
fire.  Neither 
of  us  could  eat, 
but  we  drank 
at  least  a  gal- 
lon apiece,  and 
after  a  bottle 
of  soda  -  water 
on  top  of  that 
felt  better. 


He  pressed  me  to  stay  a  few  days  in  order  that 
we  might  exchange  confidences,  assuring  me  on 
liis  word  as  a  man  of  honour  that  it  would  be 
"perfectly  safe,"  but  I  declined.  I  would  be 
sure  to  lose  his  good  opinion  by  accidentally 
disclosing  that  I  was  not  a  professional  criminal 
after  all,  and  he  would  [probably  murder  me  in 
the  end  out  of  sheer  contempt. 

"  Well,  I  won't  press  you,  old  man,"  he 
observed,  as  he  followed  me  out  to  help  in 
saddling  my  horse.  "  I  expect  you've  got  .some 
job  on  hand  somewhere  else,  liut  why  didn't 
you  tell  me  at  once  you  were  one  of  us  f  When 
I  meet  a  regular  stick-al-nothing  scoundrel  with 
no  law  or  order  or  nonsense  about  him,  why,  I 
like  it,  that's  all  I  I  could  see  it  in  your  eye 
the    moment    we    met.       Don't    let    that    little 

matter  of  last 
night  stand 
l)etween  us. 
-And,  I  say,  if 
ever  you're  in 
trouble  and 
want  to  put 
\ourself  away 
for  a  few 
months  with- 
out fuss — well, 
you  k  n  o  w 
where  to 
come  ! " 

I  grasped 
the  honest 
fellow's  hand 
and  continued 
my  journey. 


>\VS    HANO    AND   CONTINUBD    MV  JOURNKV."' 


jNfetting  S'igsrs  in  the  ^ungtc. 

By  John  Swaffham. 

A   description  of  a   curious  method   employed   by  certain    tribes    in  India    for  capturing  tigers. 

Nets  are  placed  at  certain  points  in  the  jungle  and  the  tiger  driven  into  them.     Once  entangled 

in  the  meshes,  the    infuriated    beast    is   easily  dispatched.       Needless    to    say,  however,  there  is 

great  scope  for  accidents,  and    the   netting  of  tigers  is   dying  out  fast. 


wm^ 


HERE  can  hardly  be  one  man  in  a 
hundred,  among  all  the  thousands  of 
Englishmen  who  yearly  go  out  to 
India,  who  does  not  dream  on  the 
voyage  of  the  day  when,  mounted  in 

state  upon   the  broad   back   of  an   elephant,  he 

shall    shoot    his 

first  tiger.    Five, 

ten,  thirty  years 

later    the    same 

man  may  return 

to    his    English 

home,   when    he 

will  confess   that 

he    has    never 

even  seen  a  tiger 

iu  the  wild  state, 

or   else    be   full 

of  great  tales  of 

shikar,    and    the 

envy  and  despair 

of  his  son's  sons. 

But   if  you   ask 

one    of     these 

veterans     if     he 

has    ever     seen 

tigers     caught 

with    nets    it    is 

more  than  likely 

that    his  answer 

will     be    in    the 

negative.      He 

will     answer 

vaguely     that 

there  used  to  be 

such    a   practice 

once    u|)on     a 

time,  but  that  it 

has  long  passed 

to  the   place   of 

forgotten  things. 
This     dictum 

is    to    a    certain 


extent  true,  yet  tigers  are  still  occasionally 
taken  in  this  manner  by  some  of  the  more 
remote  jungle  tribes  of  Southern  India.  (The 
netting  of  a  tiger  in  the  Province  of  Madras  is 
described  in  our  issue  for  October,  1901,  by  a 
planter  who  witnessed    the  proceedings. — Ed.) 

One  of  these 
tribes  is  the 
Vorubas,  a  wan- 
dering race  of 
hereditary  hunt- 
ers and  profes- 
sional trackers 
whose  haunts 
are  the  dense 
jungles  of  South- 
e  r  n  Bengal. 
They  are  an  un- 
couth race,  these 
Yorubas,  yet 
often  not  with- 
out a  certain 
wild  t:)eauty  of 
feature.  And  as 
hunters  they  are 
unsurpassed. 

To  the  quiet, 
s  t  a  y-a  t-h  o  m  e 
person  it  must 
seem  a  recklessly 
mad  idea  to  try 
and  capture  one 
of  the  strongest 
and  fiercest  of 
all  wild  animals 
in  a  frail  net. 
On  another 
count  it  must 
also  seem  an 
almost  super- 
human task  to 
surround  a  tract 
of    wild    jungle. 


XErrixc.   'riOERs   ix    rin:    il'xc.le. 


245 


with  its  huge  trees,  tangled  creepers,  and  count- 
less other  obstacles,  with  an  unbreakable  line  of 
nets  slung  upon  poles.  It  must  also  be  remem- 
bered that  a  tiger  can  easily  jump  a  high 
stockade  with  a  fair-sized  bullock  in  his  jaws  — 
an  achievement  often  sur[)assed  when  he  is 
spurred  l)y  fear  and  mad  with  rage.  Therefore 
a  net  must  be  at  the  least  some  twelve  feet  high 
at  its  lowest  part  if  the  infuriated  animal  is  to 
find  it  any  bar  to  his  escape.  Now  nets  of  this 
height  are  not  easy  things  to  put  up  upon  ground 
hampered  with  the  dense  and  luxuriant  growths 
of  a  tropical  forest,  and  what  is  to  be  done  must 
be  done  with  speed,  since  the  enclosable  area 
cannot  be  made  of  more  than  a  certain  extent, 
and  the  tiger  may  shift  his  hiding-place. 

Long  training,  however,  has  taught  the  native 


of  a  band  of  Voruba  hunters  encamped 
near  by.  Word  went  to  them  post-haste.  The 
tiger,  weary  with  abortive  rage  and  gorged  with 
a  feed  off  the  mangled  body  of  one  of  his 
victims,  was  asleep  in  a  thick  patch  of  bamboo 
and  other  close-growing  shrubs.  This,  with  a 
silence  and  speed  which  must  be  seen  before 
they  can  be  credited,  the  Yorubas  surrounded, 
and  in  a  moment  almost  the  nets  were  raised. 
Then,  with  unearthly  tomtomings  and  cries,  the 
beast  was  roused  from  his  torpor.  With  the 
taste  of  blood  fresh  in  his  mouth,  he  issued  from 
his  place  of  concealment  with  a  spring  and  a 
roar  sufficient  to  strike  terror  to  the  heart  of 
any  hearer.  But  this  time  his  assailants  were 
no  guileless  hangers-on  of  a  palace.  He 
landed   in    the    nets,   which   fell  ovc-r  him   and 


UK    ISSUEIJ    FROM    HIS    I'LACE   OK    CONCbALMtN  I     \M  I  H    A   SFKLNLi   ANO   A    KOAK. 


hunters  to  set  their  snares  with  a  speed  and 
accuracy  almost  comparable  to  that  with  which 
a  Thames  angler  wields  his  cast  -  net  for  the 
taking  of  the  fry  which  are  to  be  his  bait  for 
a  larger  quarry.  Thus,  lately,  in  a  certain  small 
State,  a  tiger  escaped  from  the  Rajah's  animal 
houses  and  wandered  at  will  througli  the  great 
gardens.  He  could  not  escape  because  of  the 
high  walls  which  surrounded  it,  but  he  could 
and  did  establish  a  reign  of  terror  whicli.  when 
attempts  at  recapture  had  claimed  the  lite  of 
more  than  one  victim,  left  him  for  awhile  in 
undisputed  possession  of  the  territory.  At 
this  juncture  a  report  came  in  of  the  presence 


held  him  on  all  sides  in  a  clinging  embrace. 
The  more  fiercely  he  twisted  and  strug-lcd  the 
more  tightly  they  enmeshed  him.  When  he 
tried  to  rend  them  they  opened  out  and 
entangled  his  claws,  but  would  not  tear.  He 
was  helpless. 

'i'his  time  the  tiger  was  not  destined  to  be 
slain,  so  the  captors  let  him  rage,  helping  the 
nets  to  envelop  him  the  better  by  means  of 
stout  poles,  which  also  they  used  to  no  improve- 
ment of  his  temper  as  means  of  insult,  prodding 
him,  and  crying,  native  like  :  "  Ari,  my  brother  ! 
Are  they  sweet,  these  enfoldings  of  the  arms  of 
thy  love  ?  "  with  many  another  gibe,  bitter  to  be 


240 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


borne  by  a  self-respecting  tiger  who  has  hitherto 
had  httle  care  for  an  unarmed  native  of  the 
jungles. 

But  let  me  conduct  you  to  a  tiger-netting 
expedition  carried  out  in  grim  earnest.  Imagine 
yourself  in  the  camp  of  a  party  of  Yorubas 
(sometimes  called  Korubas)  or  any  other  tribe 
which  practises  the  netting  method  of  capturing 
tigers.  Word  is  brought  of  a  recent  "  kill  "  by 
an  animal  whose  haunt  is  known  or  of  which 
the  trail  is  sufficiently  defined  for  it  to  be 
possible  to  try  and  track  him.  In  a  very  few 
moments  the  men  are  up  and  their  nets,  all 
ready  for  transport,  are  shouldered  by  those  to 
whom    this    part    of    the    business   is  assigned. 


close  to  hand.  Should  bamboo  not  exist  in  a 
particular  jungle,  the  young  poles  of  a  hundred 
other  saplings  readily  take  its  place.  You  must 
not  suppose  that  it  is  even  occasionally  {)ossible 
to  literally  "  surround  "  the  lair  of  the  animal 
which  it  is  sought  to  take.  A  line  is  drawn 
across  the  place  at  which  it  is  probable  the 
tiger  will  try  to  make  his  exit,  and  in  the  selec- 
tion of  this  sjjot  you  may  be  fairly  sure  that  the 
intuition  of  the  tribesmen  will  seldom  be  at 
fault.  At  either  end  of  this  line  short  flanking 
nets  are  set  up,  so  that,  if  the  sight  of  the  toils 
sends  the  frightened  animal  off  in  an  endeavour 
to  make  a  flank  escape,  he  will  be  led  to 
imagine  that  the  snare  is  complete  on  all  sides. 


From  d\ 


THE   SCREEN   OF    NETS   IN    I'OSITION    ACKOSS   THE   TIGEK's   LINE  OF    RETKEAT. 


[Photo. 


After  a  longer  or  shorter  interval  (it  may  be 
only  at  the  end  of  a  day's  toilsome  march)  the 
particular  spot  is  located  whither  the  tiger  has 
retired  to  sleep  off  the  effects  of  his  hearty 
nieal. 

Quick  as  thought  each  hunter  does  his  part. 
Being  savages  there  is  no  need  for  discipline, 
which  is  the  a[)ology  of  civilization  for  the  loss 
of  that  initiative  which  is  the  birthright  of  those 
whose  every  need  must  either  be  self-supplied 
or  go  unsatisfied.  Thus,  in  a  shorter  time  than 
one  could  believe  possible,  the  screen  of  nets  is 
in  position,  supported  on  tall  bamboos  cut  down 
from   the  endless  slock  which    Nature  supplies 


A  tiger  is,  after  all,  not  much  different  from 
any  other  of  the  jungle  beasts.  Once  in  a  way, 
if  too  closely  pressed,  he  may  become  so 
stricken  witli  panic  that  even  the  fiendish  din  of 
a  host  of  native  beaters  will  not  dissuade  him 
from  an  attempt  to  "  break  back."  If  he  do  so 
there  is  every  chance  that  he  will  escape.  Still, 
it  is  seldom  that  his  courage  is  equal  to  this 
wild  charge,  apparently  into  the  very  face  of 
the  advancing  danger. 

When  a  writer  speaks  of  the  "  cowardice  "  of 
such  an  animal  as  the  tiger  it  must  be  borne  in 
mind  that  man  is  every  whit  as  fearful  to  a 
forest  beast  as  the  same   beast  is  to  the  man. 


xiMTiNc    iu;i:rs    i\   tiii:    ilncij:. 


247 


Moreover  the  beast  on  this  occasion  was  asleep 
wlien  he  was  aroused  by  such  a  thn  as  it  may 
be  supposed  a  thousand  fiends  could  not  render 
more  horrible.  From  dreams  such  as  an  over- 
full stomach  induces  in  man  and  animal  aliktr, 
he  was  brought  violently  back  to  realities  by  this 
horrible  u[>roar.  Inevitably  he  can  have  had 
only  one  thought — how  to  get  unobserved  to 
some  spot  where  it  might  t)e  possible  to  safely 
call  a  halt  for  an  incjuiry  into  the  reason  for  this 
fearsome  invasion  of  the  silent  solitudes  of  his 
home.  Thus  he  glided  away  silently  as  only  the 
cat  tribe    may,    but    the    noise    followed    after. 


could  not  stop,  however  ;  before  he  could  check 
the  impetus  of  his  huge  body  he  had  leapt  into 
the  nets. 

Then  there  arose  such  a  pandemonium  as 
only  the  pen  of  a  Kipling  could  describe. 
Headlong  the  tiger  crashed  into  the  snare,  and 
the  lithe  nets  clung  ubout  hinu  Snarl  and  rage- 
as  he  would  it  was  too  late.  Each  new  effort 
wrapped  the  tangle  closer  and  yet  more  close 
about  his  mighty  limbs,  which  had  never  yet 
found  substance  that  a  determined  effort  could 
not  rend.  Yet  this  strange  thing  was  not 
to   be  rent,  nor  would  any  display  of  strength 


"  HIS    ROARING    AND   STRUGGLING    WKRE   AFI'ALLI.NG." 


Perhaps  it  was  the  "  ping "  of  a  bullet  from 
some  old  jezail,  an  extra  vile  crash  upon  a  tom- 
tom, or  an  unheard-of  effort  issuing  from  the 
lungs  of  an  excited  bearer,  but  some  atrocity 
in  the  way  of  sounds  made  him  still  more 
anxious  to  clear  out,  and  at  that  he  started 
off  with  a  mighty  rush,  which  was  really 
a  series  of  gigantic  leaps.  Suddenly  he  came 
face  to  face  with  the  nets,  though  probably  it 
was  not  these  that  his  eyes  recognised,  but 
rather  the  line  of  dreaded  human  animals 
standing  to  attention  and  each  holding  at  the 
"present  '  a  gleaming  something  which  no 
beast  alive  has  ever  seen  and  been  under  any 
misapprehension    as    to    the    meaning    of.      He 


avail  to  put  aside  what  the  reasoned  skill  of  a 
little  child  could  disentangle  in  less  time 
than  it  takes  me  to  pen  these  words.  All 
this  time,  moreover,  the  dread  animal,  num. 
was  coming  so  close  that  their  faces  almost 
touched  him  as  he  dashed  about  in  blind  rage. 
Then  those  gleaming  things  in  the  men's  hands 
came  into  play.  1-irst  a  clumsy  fellow  thrust 
at  the  tiger  so  that  the  sharp  spear  scored  his 
flank,  whereat  his  roaring  and  struggling  were 
for  a  moment  so  appalling  that  no  human 
being,  savage  and  therefore  unimpressionable 
though  he  might  be,  could  help  recoiling 
in  horror.  Hut  the  feeling  passed  with  the 
tiger's    mighty    roar,    and    slabs    and    thrusts 


249 


I'HK    WIDE    WORLD    MA(;AZINE. 


prom  a] 


TAKING    HOME   THE   DEAD   TIGER   AFTER   THE   HUNT. 


[Photo. 


rained  upon  the  infuriated  brute  inside  the 
nets.  The  blows  were  tempered  at  tirst  with 
a  certain  fear,  but  as  his  helplessness  to 
retaliate  became  obvious  they  grew  stronger  and 
bolder,  until  at  last  the  lord  of  the  jungle  lay 
dead  among  the  leaves.  The  hunt  was  over  ! 
Such  a  day   as  this  takes    its    place   among 


those  which  a  man  will  remember  to  his  life's 
end.  Not  that  in  it  he  has  done  a  great  deed 
nor  yet  a  brave  one,  but  he  has  pitted  craft 
against  strength  and  mind  against  force.  As  a 
man  he  has  asserted  his  mastery  over  a  king  of 
brutes,  and  that  with  only  the  tools  of  a  savage, 
cunning  though  they  be— his  hands. 


Christmas   on   a   Tombstone. 

By  Mrs.  Alec  Tweedie. 

The    well-known    authoress    relates     how,    after    a    week    of    Christmas    festivities    in    Mexico 

City,  she    found    herself   absolutely  alone  on   Christmas    Day    itself,    which    is    not  observed    by 

the   Mexicans.     Accordingly,    she    and    a    friend  planned    a   little   picnic,  which    ended    m  their 

eating   their  Christmas   dinner  on    an    old    tombstone ! 


r  was  a  straiiL^c  place  on  which  to 
cat  one's  Christmas  dinner ;  but  it 
is  the  variety  of  life  which  makes 
its  interest. 

The  25th  of  December  is  as  dull 
in  Mexico  as  the  City  on  a  l>ank  Holiday. 
Christmas  is,  nevertheless,  a  tremendous  festival 
in  Mexico;  for  the  preceding  nine  days  there 
are  fairs  of  all  sorts  and  kinds,  wonderful 
booths  full  of  the  quaintest  little  pottery  figures 
made  by  the  natives,  such  as  cows,  horses,  pigs, 
leopards,  monkeys,  etc.,  most  weird  and  strange, 
and  nearly  all  made  to  whistle.  There  are  the 
inevitable  pea-nuts,  paper  decorations,  candles, 
Chinese  lanterns,  Indian  plaited  baskets,  pottery 
water-jars,  and  models  of  cowboys  or  matadors. 
Anything  and  everything  is  for  sale  in  the  booths, 
about  which  thousands  of  Indians  are  gaily 
flocking.  But  the  great  excitement  centres 
round  the pi/la/as,  which  queer  things  take  the 
j^lace  of  our  Christmas  trees.  Every  house, 
rich  or  poor,  has  a  pmata.  They  are  all  made 
by  the  Indians,  and  generally  consist  of  large 
paper  figures,  or  boats,  or  animals,  two  or  three 
feet  high,  inside  which  is  a  pot  or  olla,  filled  with 
sweets  and  little  presents.  The  paper  figures  are 
very  cleverly  dressed  up  over  laths  of  wood, 
those  representing  ballet-dancers  and  clowns 
being  great  favourites.  Gold  and  tinsel  and 
coloured  fringes  decorate  these  queer  things, 
which  are  sold  by  thousands  for  Christmas  and 
hung  up  in  state,  to  be  broken  by  some  child 
in  every  home  throughout  the  length  and 
breadth  of  the  land.  The  beggars  receive 
generous  alms  from  every  passer-by,  and  for 
nine  days  all  is  giving  and  receiving. 

For  nine  nights  high  festival  is  held,  beginning 
with  a  religious  ceremony,  followed  by  pro- 
cessions, in  which  a  creche  is  carried  in  due 
pomp  through  the  house  of  the  Mexican  to  the 
chanting  of  prayers  and  hymns.  Devotion  is 
the  order  of  the  evening,  and  everyone  is 
religiously  inclined. 

Formerly  this  religious  ceremony  continued 
for  the  whole  nine  nights  ;  but  now  the  succeeding 
eight  are  given  over  to  merriment  of  all  kinds, 


ending  up  with  what  we  should  consider  the  real 
Christmas-keeping  on  the  24th  of  December. 
Our  Christmas  Day  counts  for  naught  among 
the  Mexicans — it  is  a  dies  non.  I  had  enjoyed 
those  nine  days  of  rejoicing,  having  been  invited 
by  the  President  of  Mexico  to  his  own  family 
party;  but  when  the  real  (Christmas  Day  came  — 
of  which  we  think  so  much  in  England  —  I  found 
I  was  alone — absolutely  alone  I 

What  a  contrast  to  the  preceding  night  I 
For  on  Christmas  Eve  one  of  the  quaintest  and 
most  interesting  parties  I  ever  remember  had 
fallen  to  my  lot.  The  ninth  and  last  night  of 
the  great  series  of  Christmas  festivals  was 
the  one  chosen  by  Madame  Diaz,  wife  of 
the  President,  to  give  her  party.  About  eight 
o'clock  the  guests  assembled  in  the  beautiful 
house  in  Buena  \'ista.  Inside  was  a  huge  court- 
yard or  patio,  full  of  flowers  and  palms.  The 
stone  floor  was  carpeted,  and  small  tables  ar- 
ranged for  supper  were  dotted  about  among  the 
palms,  which  were  gaily  illuminated  by  Chinese 
lanterns  and  fairy  lamps.  Madame  Diaz  had 
introduced  a  little  innovation  for  the  occasion 
by  requesting  that  every  girl  should  wear  a 
fancy  dress  composed  entirely  of  paper,  manu- 
factured, if  possible,  by  her  own  hands.  The 
result  was  wonderful ;  indeed,  it  was  one  of  the 
prettiest  balls  I  have  seen.  The  coloured  paper 
had  been  deftly  twisted  by  clever  fingers  into 
Red  Riding  Hoods,  Charlotte  Cordays,  hospital 
nurses  — indeed,  into  costumes  of  all  sorts  and 
kinds— until  the  efl'ect  was  beautiful,  and  no 
one  could  possibly  have  imagined  that  the 
bright-hucd,  crinkled  fabrics  were  merely  paper. 
The  Spanish-Mexican  girls  are  lovely,  glorious 
dark  eyes  and  beautiful  teeth  being  their  chief 
characteristic. 

The  men  wore  red  dress-coats,  reminding  one 
strangely  of  an  English  hunt  ball,  only  in 
Mexico  they  wear  black  knee-l-rccchcs  and  silk 
stockings  and  their  hair  is  powdered  while. 
It  was  the  gayest  of  gay  scenes,  for  it  was 
Christmas  Eve,  the  great  night  of  all  w-  '  ' 
in  the  land  of  Montezimia.  .Spanish  dar.^  ^  ■. 
Mexican  dan/.is,  vulscs.  and  (luadrilles  all  came 


25° 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


/  . 


THE  voun(;est  girl  present  was  told  to  break  one  with  a  stick 


in  turn,  the  President's  wife  distributed  silver 
souvenirs  among  her  guests,  fireworks  and 
rockets  were  sent  up,  and  about  ten  o'clock  the 
great  pinatas  were  broken.  They  were  hanging 
outside  in  the  courtyard,  and  the  youngest  girl 
[jresent  was  told  to  break  one  with  a  stick.  As 
she  shattered  the  earthenware  pot  in  the  interior 
of  the  beautiful  ballet-dancer  a  shower  of 
wonderful  things  descended.  Sweets,  toys, 
whistles,  (harms,  crackers,  bead  necklaces,  all 
sorts  and  conditions  of  things  came  out  of  the 
<?//«,  and  were  scrambled  for  by  the  company. 
After  three  or  four  pinatas  were  broken  supper 
was  served,  and  I  had  the  honour  of  being 
invited  to  the  private  dining-room  of  the 
President  and   Madame  Diaz  for  that  meal. 

It  was  all  so  gay  and  cordial,  so  charming, 
that  I  felt  absolutely  at  home  and  quite  happy 
and  contented,  although  in  such  strange  and 
unusual  surroundings  ;  therefore  the  dawn  of  the 
25tli  of  December,  with  no  further  prospect  of 
gaiety,  seemed   all    the    more  lonely,    and    the 


distance  from  one's  own  be- 
longings all  the  more  unbear- 
able. 

A  friend  of  my  youth,  an 
old  kindergarten  school  friend, 
in  fact,  although  it  chanced  to 
be  a  "  he  "  and  not  a  "  she," 
was  in  like  plight,  and  there- 
fore we  decided  to  spend 
Christmas  together  and  make 
merry  in  our  own  way.  We 
agreed  to  ride  as  far  as  it  was 
possible  to  ride  to  a  little 
village  outside  the  city,  taking 
our  luncheon  with  us  in  a 
brown-paper  parcel  !  Procur- 
ing that  luncheon  was  some- 
w'hat  amusing.  There  was  a 
funny  old  French  waiter  at  my 
hotel  who  was  a  particular 
friend  of  mine,  and  to  him  I 
confided  my  wants. 

"  Put  Christmas  is  a  grand 
day  in  England,"  he  said ;  "  I 
was  once  there." 

"  Yes,"  I  replied,  glad  of 
his  sympathy,  "  but  as  no  one 
seems  to  think  much  of  it 
here,  and  as  all  the  shops  are 
shut,  a  friend  and  I  are  going 
out  to  see  the  old  church  at 
San  Juan." 

"  I  will  give  you  a  couple 
of  fowls,"  he  suggested,  cheer- 
fully. 

"  Not  two  1  "    I   exclaimed, 

in  horror. 

"  One    would    not   be  sufficient   for  madame 

and     a    gentleman,"    he    persisted.       "  Would 

madame  like  lettuce  and   tomatoes,  eclairs  and 

wine  ?  " 

He  insisted  upon  the  two  fowls,  and,  being 
afraid  to  damp  his  ardour,  I  finally  agreed, 
thinking  his  idea  of  making  merry  must  be  to 
consuuie  more  than  is  necessary  in  honour  of 
the  occasion. 

It  was  a  lovely,  bright  day,  the  bluest  of  blue 
skies  overhead,  and  when  we  left  the  city  it 
was  quite  sunny  and  warm.  We  passed  many 
queer  things  by  the  way,  among  them  a  cross  at 
the  entrance  to  a  village,  put  uj)  l)y  the  Indians 
to  scare  away  the  devil.  Mephistopheles  bows 
before  the  cross  on  the  handle  of  the  sword,  and 
the  devil  never  {)asses  a  cross  in  the  land  of  the 
Aztecs.  Hence,  nearly  every  bridge  in  Mexico 
has  this  form  of  ornamentation,  and  most 
villages  have  one  on  their  thresholds.  Witches 
and  devils  exist  for  them,  and  strange  and  weird 
are  the  people's  beliefs. 


CIlklS'IMAS     ON     A     'I'OMIiS'rONK. 


25> 


III  two  liuurs  and  a  half  we  arrived  at  our 
village,  and  learning  that  there  was  a  very  pretty- 
barranca  or  chasm  at  the  hack  of  the  church, 
we  decided  to  go  there  for  our  picnic.  'I'he  way 
thither  led  through  the  chuhchyard  ;  the  sun  by 
this  time  was  tremendously  hot,  and  as  a 
pleasant    breeze    swe{)t  along  the  ridge   of  the 


%' 


hill,  and  caught  the  edge  of  the  tombstones 
in  that  churchyard,  I  suggested  that  we  might 
-Stay  there  and  enjoy  our  repast  on  one  of  the 
ancient  graves. 

"  What !  Christmas  dinner  on  a  tombstone?  " 
exclaimed  my  friend,  in  dismay.  "  Your  ideas 
are  not  cheerful." 

However,  like  all 
good  men,  he  gave 
in  to  the  whim  of 
woman,  and  there 
we  stayed. 

It  certainly  was  a 
strange  perform- 
ance. 

"  You  have  got 
to  eat  a  whole  fowl," 
I  exclaimed  ,  "  the 
waiter  insisted  upon 
my  having  two.  A 
good  appetite  is 
evidently  his  idea  of 
Christmas  festival." 

The  brown-paper 
parcel  was  undone, 
and,  lo  I  each  fowl 
was  about  the  size 
of  a  pigeon  !  No 
wonder  the  poor, 
dear  man  had  de- 
cided one  would 
not  be  sufficient. 
Hard  -  boiled  eggs, 
delicious  French 
bread,  and  vile 
butter  —  for  which 
Mexico  is  famous ; 
or  rather  she  is 
famous  for  the  lack 

of  good  butter  —  beautiful,  crisp  lettuce, 
salt  in  a  paper  packet,  and  everything 
in  a  very  primitive  and  picnicky  style  was 
arranged  upon  a  convenient  tombstone,  which 
was  luckily  in  the  shade  of  some  large  palm 
trees.  The  spot  we  had  chosen  commanded 
a  magnificent  view  of  the  deep  ravine,  and  those 
great,  glorious,  snow  -  capped  volcanoes  which 
are  to  be  seen  everywhere  from  the  Mexican 
valley,  and  are  some  of  the  finest  mountains  in 
the  world. 

Softly  be  it  owned,  we  were  both  unutterably 
homesick,  and   it   was  not  over-easy  to  assume 


A    culls'^   AT   THE     E.STKANCE    TO    A 
1-roill  a\  SCARE    AWAY 


that  forced  gaiety  which  is  entirely  artificial,  and 
known  to  be  such  by  the  hearer  as  well  as  by 
the  speaker. 

What  was  everybody  doing  in  England? 
Enjoying  turkey,  roast  beef  and  plum-pudding, 
mince-pies  and  crackers,  drinking  healths,  giving 
and  receiving  those  delightful  little  surprise- 
presents  which  are  to  be  found  in  every  home. 
Fires  were  doubtless  crackling  cheerily  on  the 
hearths  at  home,  snow,  perha[)s,  was  falling  out- 
side the  window,  and  the  whole  atmosphere  was 
generally  Christmassy.  The  family  assembled, 
augmented  by  a   few  dear  friends,  all  enjoying 

the  hospitality  of  the 
I'.ritish  home.  The 
rooms  were  pro- 
bably illuminated, 
and  everyone  warm 
and  snug  and  com- 
fortable. A  happy 
family  party,  truly, 
in  the  dear  old 
homes  we  both 
loved — we  two  lone 
folk  away  from  our 
own  firesides. 

Here  was,  indeed, 
a  different  scene. 
Here  it  was  hot  and 
sunny  and  bright  — 
an  English  August 
day,  in  fact — and 
wild  strawberries 
formed  an  item  of 
our  fare.  Here  we 
were,  childhood's 
friends  who  had 
drifted  apart  for  the 
greater  portions  of 
our  lives,  to  meet 
again  in  that  far-off 
land  and  eat  our 
Christmas  dinner 
together  -  on  a 
M  e  X  i  c  an  to  m  b- 
stone. 
We  laughed  over  the  chickens,  we  nuuie  jokes 
over  everything,  we  tried  to  be  hapiiy  and  gay 
in  our  loneliness,  when  we  suddenly  discovered 
that  we  were  not  alone  !  It  was  a  high  tomb- 
stone on  which  our  fare  was  spread— the  shape 
of  a  stone  table— and  there  on  the  other  side  a 
great,  big  pair  of  round,  black  eyes  were  peering 
at  us.  They  belonged  to  a  {>oor,  starving 
mongrel  cur,  who  had  smelt  our  meal  from  afar, 
and  was  wistfully  gazing  at  that  strange  repast. 
Never  was  dog  so  thin  !  Every  rib  showed 
through  his  emaciated  form,  his  legs  seemed 
thrown   by  the  yard,   and  yet   the   girth  of  his 


VIl.l.Af.K    I'UT    Ul'   IIV   THE    INDIANS    1 0 
THK    DKVll  .  "  [I'lirlO. 


252 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


body  was  but  a  few  inches.  The  drumstick  of 
a  chicken  was  quickly  thrown  to  him. 

"I  thought  chicken  bones  were  bad  for  dogs," 
I  remarked. 

"  But  I  have  nothing  else  to  give  the  poor 
brute,"  was  the  reply,  and  consequently,  as  the 
dog  seemed  to  relish  the  savoury  morsel,  he 
was  allowed  to  devour  all  our  bones — not  our 
bones,  but  the  chicken's  bones,  of  course.  Not 
satisfied  with  these  he  finished  up  with  the  egg- 
shells,   and    actually   attacked    the    paper   the 


were  hardly  needed  by  a  woman  seven  thousand 
miles  from  her  own  house,  or  chocolate  sticks 
by  a  man  who  never  ate  chocolate.  He  was  a 
funny  old  pedlar,  and  much  regretted  that  we 
had  nothing  left  to  give  him.  He  evidently 
envied  the  dog's  fare  ;  but  he  went  off  happy 
with  a  small  gift  of  a  few  centavos,  which  he 
doubtless  spent  on  that  awful  native  drink, 
pulquey,  made  from  the  fermented  milk  of  the 
maguey  plant — an  atrocious  white  fluid  on  which 
the  Indians  get  deadly  drunk. 


i 


'  HE  WAS    MOST   ANXIOUS   WE   SHOULD    HUV    HIS   WARES. 


things  had  been  wrapped  in.  I  could  only 
imagine  he  relished  the  latter  on  account  of  the 
fat  with  which  it  was  smeared.  He  ate  every- 
thing, in  fact,  the  only  thing  he  declined  being 
the  salt ! 

At  last  he  went  away  smacking  his  lips  at  the 
excellent  fare.  Immediately  afterwards  we  had 
another  visitor.  Had  the  dog  told  him  of  our 
presence,  or  did  the  bits  of  egg-shell  still 
hanging  round  the  cur's  jowl  denote  the  fact 
that  people  were  near  ? 

This  visitor  was  a  pedlar.  He  was  most 
anxious  we    should    buy  his  wares,   but   sieves 


After  our  quaint  meal  was  ended  we  went  to 
e.xaminc  the  church.  Of  course,  it  was  Roman 
Catholic,  built  by  the  Spaniards  some  three  or 
four  lumdred  years  ago,  and  there  were  some 
fine  carving,  beautiful  silver  lamps,  and  well- 
painted  pictures,  although  it  stood  in  an  Indian 
village  where  the  congregation  was  composed  of 
half-bred  Indians.  Hut  although  the  church 
was  fine  the  surroundings  were  gruesome.  Bits 
of   old,  destroyed  coffins  lay   in   heaps  in   one 


CHRIS'IMAS    ON    A     I'DMHSTOXR. 


253 


A    SOm    OK    WAKE    NEAR    THE    KEMAINS   OP   THE    PEPARTED. 


corner  or  the  graveyard ;  this  was  the  poor 
quarter,  tvhere  the  people  are  buried  for  seven 
years  and  then  dug  up  to  make  room  for  others. 
I'he  coffins  we  saw  were  waiting  to  be  burnt. 
The  bones  were  all  huddled  together  in  a  sort 
of  cellar,  for,  although  the  Toltecs  and  Aztecs 
burned  their  dead,  Roman  Catholics  do  not 
cremate  and  will  not  burn  skeletons.  These 
pauper  graves  were  marked  by  a  post  on  which 
was  a  tin  tablet  with  the  date  of  interment, 
information  necessary  so  that  each  grave  may 
be  dug  up  at  the  proper  time. 

Occasionally  a  cross  marked  the  better-class 
burying-place.  In  the  big  cemeteries  of  Me.xico 
(Jity,  however,  there  are  splendid  monuments  and 
headstones  of  every  kind,  a  very  favourite  mode 
l)eing  to  enclose  a  portrait  of  the  deceased  in  the 
marble  slab,  and  a  fashion  prevalent  in  Mexico 
is  on  the  birthday  or  saint's  name-day  of  the 
dead  person  for  the  family  to  go  to  the  grave, 
ornament  it  with  artificial  paper  flowers  or  dyed 
grasses,  set  candles  all  round,  and  have  a  sort  of 


wake  near  the  remains  of  the  departed,  leaving 
food,  wine,  and  even  tobacco  for  the  use  of  the 
dead  when  they  go  away.  Dogs  are  muzzled  so 
that  they  may  not  steal  the  food  intended  for 
the  dear  departed. 

As  we  rode  home  in  the  cool  of  the 
afternoon  we  had  recovered  from  the  depres- 
sion of  the  morning  and  thoroughly  enjoyed 
little  jokes  by  the  way,  and  the  glorious 
and  magnificent  sunset  which  spread  before 
us.  Probably  the  finest  view  in  the  whole  world 
is  to  be  seen  from  the  Castle  of  Chapultepec  in 
Mexico  City.  i'he  panorama  in  the  evening 
lights  is  sublime.  The  snowcapped  peaks  of 
those  great  volcanoes  bathed  in  coral  pink,  the 
blue  sky,  and  soft  grey  clouds  chasing  one 
another  over  that  vast  expanse  of  heaven  :  the 
almost  tropical  verdure  of  the  country  round  the 
town,  the  red  and  gold  of  the  shining  domes  of 
the  city,  the  wonderful  colouring  of  the  depart- 
ing sun  made  a  truly  magnificent  ending  to  a 
Christmas  spent  on  a  Mexican  tombstone. 


The  Cruise  of  the  Millionaires. 

Told  nv  R.  (i.   Knowles.     Chronicled  p.v   Richakh  Morton. 


The    well-known    comedian    describes    in    a    humorous    fashion    a    voyage    he    recently  made    on    the 

R.M.S.    "Celtic."      This  great  liner  left  New  York  for  a  pleasure  cruise    in   the    Mediterranean,  having 

on  board  a  large  number  of  wealthy  tourists,  many  of  whom  were  American  millionaires.     The  narrative 

is  accompanied  by  a  number  of  photographs  taken  by  Mr.  Knowles  on  the  voyage. 


I. 
ET  me  set  it  down  in  plain  black 
and  white  that  )  am  not  a  million- 
aire. Some  of  my  friends  may 
affect  to  believe  that  I  am — there 
are  occasions  when  one's  friends 
surely  nourish  such  a  suspicion— but  I  wish 
to  have  it  understood  that  I  am  not  any- 
thing of  the  kind.  It  is  true  I  voyaged  in 
company  with  some  of  America's  millionaires — 
she  has  them  to  burn—  but,  though  with  them, 
I  was  not  of  them. 

I  did  not  penetrate  into  their  society  by  any 
base  subterfuge.  I  merely  offered  my  money 
and  myself  to  the  care  of  the  manager  of  the 
jaunt.  It  is  a  point  in  my  favour  that  I  was 
accepted  as  worthy  to  l)e  on  board,  and  it 
was  lucky  for  me  that 
nobody  asked  me  to 
swear  an  affidavit  that  I 
had  a  million  of  money 
in  the  bank  or  in  mv 
pocket. 

I  will  do  the  manage- 
ment this  further  justice, 
and  state  that  not  a 
soul  mentioned  a  word 
about  money  to  me 
beyond  asking  me  to 
kindly  hand  over  what 
was  due  to  them  for 
my  berth.  When  that 
transaction  was  com 
pleted  I  found  mysell 
a  tripper  to  the  Orient, 
side  by  side  with  some 
of  the  gold  kings  of 
the  LJ.S.y\.  I  have 
detailed  the  matter  in 
full  becau.se  I  want  ni\ 
best  friends  to  know  that 
I  did  not  get  on  the 
ship  under  false  pre- 
tences. On  receiving  this  assurance,  those 
who  know  me  best 
surprised. 

We  started  from  New  York.    'J'hey  sent  a  i)and 
on   board  with  us,  and  r.n  the  |)iir  there  was  a 


I  rout  a  I'lioto,  l>y  Maiceau,  A'cw   J  orK- 


will      l)e     pleased,     if 


band  that  we  left  behind.  The  amenities  of 
musicians  are  always  interesting  to  me.  In  this 
case  the  band  on  the  boat  played  loudly  the 
appropriate  tune,  "  If  You  Ain't  Got  No  Aloney 
You  Needn't  Come  Round."  The  one  on  the 
pier  countered  with  the  retort  courteous,  "  \\& 
Don't  Care  If  You  Never  Come  Back:"  It 
was  one  of  the  most  soothing  farewells  I  ever 
experienced.  It  was  so  nice  to  know  that  we 
never  would  be  missed,  even  if  the  worst 
happened. 

Thus  we  sailed  away,  on  and  on  and  on, 
passing  the  statue  of  Liberty,  but  nothing  of 
an  exciting  nature  happened  until *we  dropped 
anchor  off  Coney  Island.  \\'e  had  commenced 
our  voyage  at  three  o'clock  and  we  anchored 
about   five,  so  there  had  really  not  been  much 

time  for  excitement. 
Our  cai)tain  decided 
that  our  first  stop  should 
be  Coney  Island,  and 
Coney  Island  it  was. 
The  place  was  not 
mentioned  in  the  pro- 
gramme, but  no  extra 
charge  was  made.  Many 
of  our  j)assengers  then 
saw  Coney  Island  for  the 
first  time,  and  were  not 
fa  \'  o  u  r  a  1 )  1  y  i  m  pressed. 
Some  people  do  not 
<are  for  the  resort  even 
in  the  summer,  and  in 
February  it  does  not 
assume  its  most  cheerful 
aspect. 

In  the  morning  we 
arose  with  the  island 
still  in  \'\(\\.  ICach 
travL'lKT,  moreover, 
was  now  e(|uipped  with 
a  severe  cold,  which  he 
had  either  smugL^led  on 
board  or  captured  since  the  embarkation.  It 
wouUl  sur|)rise  some'  folks  to  find  how  really 
human  the  millionaire  becomes  when  he  has 
a  cold  in  the  head. 

.At   length  the  Ce//ic   made  a  stately  I'xit  from 


rHK    CKUISL    OK     1111.    Mll.LluNAlkKS. 


-55 


the  lower  bay,  and  then  proudly  faced  the  broad 
ocean.  The  trip  to  Madeira  was  passed  in 
gettinf;  acquainted  one  with  another,  and  our 
sensations  were  limited  to  the  pretty  sight  of  a 
sailing  vessel  with  all  sails  set,  and  a  view  of 
another  ship  that  had  ceased  its  sailing  and 
found  a  last  dock  in  the  bed  of  the  sea,  leaving 
visible  only  the  tops  of  her  masts. 

It  was  on  the  second  or  third  day  out  that  1 
was  approached  by  a  very  tall  man  with  long, 
curly  locks.  He  was  armed  with  an  ear- 
trunipet,    and     had    a    peculiar    way    with    him 


V\. 


T 


>-*'=":::::!)>V^'»^ 


jsUh. 


R.M.S.    "CELTIC,"    IN    WHICH     I  111-;    M I  I.I.ION  AlHhS    MADE    THlilK 

From  a  Plioto. 

which  must  have  been  very  disquieting  to  his 
friends,  for  when  he  smiled  he  sighed.  I  do 
not  know  whether  he  intended  to  favour  me  with 
a  smiling  sigh  or  a  sighing  smile,  but  he  certainly 
fixed  me  with  both  as  he  reached  out  his  good 
right  hand.  His  left  carried  the  trumpet  to 
his  ear. 

And  he  remarked,  "  You  are  one  of  us  ?  " 
I  replied,  "Oh,  yes  ;  I'm  on  the  shij)." 
But    he   remonstrated,  "  You  do  not  under- 
stand me.     I  mean,  you  are  a  minister?  " 

I  took  it  as  a  great  compliment  to  my  appear- 
ance, but  I  was  obliged  to  assure  him  that  he 
had  erred  in  his  diagnosis.  So  he  smilingly 
sighed  himself  away,  and  never  smiled  or  sighed 
with  me  again. 

Now,  after  being  confined  to  a  vessel  for 
eight  days  (even  in  the  golden  company  of 
millionaires),  any  sort  of  land  looks  good  to  the 
eye,  l)ut  Madeira  would  have  pleased  us  had  we 
struck  it  the  first  day  instead  of  Coney  Island. 


I  found  Kunchal,  its  principal  town,  nestling 
on  the  side  of  a   mountain,  seekin.;   tli       '     ' 
on  one  side  and  inviling  the  co(<l  sea  i 
fan    its  brow  on    the  other.     I  dare  say  other 
travellers  have  found    it  in   exactly   the   same 
situation. 

A  small  river  runs  through  the  town.  It  has 
some  water  in  it.  I  took  a  photograph  to  assure 
myself  of  this  undeniable  fact,  which  I  am  now 
prepared  to  swear  to. 

Of  almost  equal  importance  is  the  fact  that 
the  casino  encourages  a  gf)od  band  and  a  satis- 
factory quantity  of  gambling.  Now, 
we  had  no  fewer  than  seventy-six 
clergymen  on  board,  and  each 
felt  it  his  bounden  duty  to  warn 
us,  his  fellow-passengers,  of  the 
ini(iuity  of  visiting  that  casino. 
Having  succeeded  in  giving  the 
j)lace  good  and  bold  advertisement, 
and  having  aroused  in  us  a  spirit 
of  gaming  which  might  otherwise 
have  remained  dormant,  the 
ministers  retired  gracefully  on 
their  laurels,  leaving  us  to  act 
upon  their  sound  advice. 

Of  course,  we  went  off  to  the 
casino  almost  in  a  body,  as 
(juickly  as  we  could  get  there. 
liut  a  fair  percentage  of  the 
parsons  were  there  before  us. 

The  streets  of  Funchal  are 
calculated  to  warn  any  man  to 
keep  steady.  They  are  paved 
with  small  stones,  very  evenly  and 

'       firmlv   laid,   and   the  road  ui)  the 

hill  undulates  like  the  waves  of 
that  ocean  with  which  I  had 
become  so  familiar.  There  is  a  rapid  transit 
system  of  travelling  in  vogue.  It  takes  the 
shape  of  an  ox-sled,  the  runners  being  steel- 
shod.  When  the  boy  driver  wishes  to  accelerate 
the  speed  he  shouts  to  the  bullock,  flourishes 
his  stick,  and  then  runs  to  tlie  front  of  the 
sled  and  drops  a  piece  of  cloth,  covered  with 
grease,  under  the  runner.  He  catches  the 
cloth  as  the  runner  passes  over  it,  and  ri  luats 
the  operation  as  often  as  is  required. 

\'isitors  to  I-'unchal  are  in  the  habit  of  t- 
fearful  and  wonderful  stories  concernini;  a  :   .... 
of  s|)ort    which    is    very   much    in  fashion.     It 
requires  unlimited  pluck  and  nerve,  so  they  say, 
and  consists  of  getting   into  a  s'    '  '■  'ml,' 

down  the  mountainside —a  tern  .  i, 

perhai)s.  These  tales  are  calculated  to  raise 
one's  hair,  for  the  angle  of  descent  l«  r.imes 
more  acute  and  the  speed  greater  each  time  the 
yarns  are  toki.  lUit  1  found  the  ride  down  the 
mountain-side   just  a    refreshing    trip,   quite   a 


256 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


novelty  in  its  way,  l)iit 
with  nothing  particularly 
startling  about  it.  I  took 
a  photograph  on  the 
spot  showing  how  it  is 
done,  and  when  next  1 
hear  some  romancer 
freezing  the  marrow  in  a 
stranger's  bones  with  his 
version  of  the  trip  I 
shall  bring  him  up  short 
by  showing  him  the 
picture. 

The  cleverest  per- 
formance I  saw  in  Fun- 
chal  was  that  of  the 
mudlarks.  Now,  mud- 
larks are  birds  of  prey 
familiar  in  niost  ports, 
and  I  base  seen  many 
varieties  of  the  species, 
good,  bad,  and  worse — 

very   few    good,    but  quite   a   quantity   of   the 
others. 

The  Funchal  mudlarks  are  really  good  boys, 
and  quite  deserve  the  harvest  of  pennies  for 
which  they  dive.  I  am  afraid  they  reaped  only 
coppers,  as  usual,  on  the  occasion  of  our  visit. 
I  expected  to  see  the  millionaires  throw- 
ing sovereigns  overboard— but,  no  !  It  was 
coppers  once  more.  The  boys  dived  from 
the  boat-deck  of  our  vessel,  about  seventy 
feet  from  the  water. 

During  our  short  stay  on  the  island  one 
thing  was  impressed  on  me  as  a  great 
and  abiding  truth,  viz.  :  human  nature  is 
the  same  the  wide  world  o'er,  even  in 
Madeira.     So  is  milk. 

I  discovered  this  at  the  siesta  of  the 
milkmen  of  Funchal,  for  they  were  gathered, 
in  ingenuous  simplicity  and  faith,  around 
the  fountain  in  the  middle  of  a  public 
sfjuare.  There  they  crouched  and  scjuatted, 
cans  and  all,  with  the  clear,  cool  water 
squirting  invitingly  behind  them.  The 
picture  was  peaceful,  {)retty,  and  suggestive. 
I  do  not  go  so  far  as  to  assert  that  they 
utilized  the  water  to  fill  up  their  cans  ;  I 
merely  say  the  fountain  was  their  chosen 
resting  i)lacc.  They  were  there,  and  where 
good  water  is  there  will  you  generally  find 
the  milkman.  There  evidently  must  be 
.some  subtle  sympathy  between  milk  and 
water  ;  one  approaches  the  other,  whether 
they  mingle  or  not.  T5ut  they  do  not 
always  advertise  thrir  affinity  so  openly  as 
they  did  in  I'unchal. 

l*"rom    Madeira    we    proceeded    to   (lib 
raltar,  being  met  there  by  guides--by  guides 


I-'rotn  a  Photo 


who  guided  and   guides 
who  were  misguided. 

"  Now,  ladies  and 
gentlemen,  wc  will  go 
to  the  fortifications," 
announced  one  of 
these. 

A  lady  with  the  party, 
.severely  and  Kstheli- 
cally  garbed,  interrupted, 
"  No,  no.  Not  to  the 
fortifications.  They  have 
no  interest  for  me.  I 
want  to  see  the  ga/kries. 
I  came  on  this  trip  to 
study  art  ! " 

And  when  the  guide 
told  her  that  the  fortifi- 
cations and  the  galleries 
are  one  and  the  same 
place,  all  the  brightness 
■went    out    of    her    life, 

and   (Gibraltar  was   to  her  a  barren  and  weary 

desert. 

Most   people    imagine   Gibraltar   to   be    the 

strongest  fortified  town  in  the  world.     The  idea 

is  erroneous,  and  should  be  corrected  at  once. 
For  the  Spanish   town   of  Linea,   just  across 


i  III.    M'.KU    AT    KUNCIIAL — MK.     KNl>Wl.l-.>     liiiiK    A    IMillo.    OK    II      III 
/•'rom  a]  ASSURE    HIMSELF    IT  CONTAINED   WATER!  [/'Iioto. 


TIIK    CRUISE    ()!•     rilK    .MII.MONAIRES. 


557 


three-quarters  of  a  mile  of  neutral  territory,  is 
more  strongly  fortified  against  the  invader  than 
is  Ciibrallar.  Its  strength  lies  in  its  smells. 
Eaeh  street  has  a  separate  and  distinct  one,  ami 
each  inhabitant  feels  it  his  bounden  duty  to 
contribute  as  much  as  he  can  to  the  general 
effect.  I  am  willing  to  wager  that,  if  I  were  to 
be  blindfolded  on  the  outskirts  of  Linea,  and 
then  led  through  its  principal  thoroughfares,  I 
could  tell  the  names  of  each  and  every  one  by 
its  own  peculiar  and  predominant  odour.  But 
when  I  reached  the  public  square,  where  all  the 
streets  converge,  I 
should  probably  be 
lost.  The  combined 
effect  baffles  des- 
cription, thougli 
some  of  our  party 
made  energetic  and 
heroic  attempts  at 
it. 

An  odoriferous 
guide  expounded  to 
us  the  wonders  of 
the  bull-ring,  which 
was  built  to  accom- 
modate ten  thou- 
sand people.  As 
Linea  has  only  a 
thousand  inhabi- 
tants the  reason  for 
this  prodigality  of 
space  is  beyond 
me.  Still,  that  is 
a  matter  for  the 
architect  and  the 
corporation  of  Linea 
to  argue  out  be- 
tween themselves. 
It  scarcely  concerns 
me  ;  I  do  not  pay 
taxes  in  Spain. 

One  poor  fellow 
had  been  killed  at 
a  recent  fight,  and 
our  guide,  taking  a 
sword     from     the 

wall,  gave  us  a  graphic  description  of  the  event. 
He  said  :  — 

"  The  bull-fighter  he  come  by  the  ring  wance  " 
— he  illustrated  the  man's  walk — "  .j<^  ah  I  The 
bull  he  come  by  the  ring  wance — so,  ah  I  The 
bull-lighter  he  make  wan  lunge  for  the  bull — so, 
ah  I  Me  miss.  The  bull  he  make  wan  lunge  for 
the  bull-fighter  -so,  ah  !  He  ////.  His  horn  go 
in  wan  side — so.  It  come  out  the  other — so.' 
ah  !     And  the  man  he  die  five  minute  before." 

So  it  was  pretty  plain  that  the  poor  chap  was 

dead  before  the  fight  commenced. 
Vol.  X.-33. 


MUOLAUKS 

Front  a] 


\'r    I- UNCIIAI.—  I  HIV 
SEVENTY    FEET   AUDV 


(  )ur  meditated  stay  in  Ciibraltar  was  con- 
siderably shortened,  for  we  were  promised  a 
longer  sojourn  in  Algiers  if  we  left  ahead  of 
time.  liut  we  arrived  there  behind  lime. 
Pamphlets  were  circulate-d  informing  us  that 
carriages  were  not  ordered  lor  our  use  in 
Algiers,  as  they  would  not  be  required.  This 
was  a  beautiful  example  of  the  truth  which  is 
mighty  and  must  prevail,  for  the  majority  of 
the  passengers  had  to  remain  on  board,  and  we 
should  never  have  been  permitted  to  use  the 
decks  for  'carriage  drives.     So  we  were  grateful 

that  the  vehicles 
were  not  ordered. 

Our  consolation 
was  that  we  could 
take  peeps  at  Algiers 
at  distances  varying 
from  two  to  five 
miles,  and  we  also 
had  the  satisfaction 
of  knowing  that  we 
could  not  be  cast 
ashore  and  wrecked 
on  an  inhospitable 
beach  while  we  re- 
mained so  far  away 
from  it. 

At  last  a  few 
daring  spirits  who 
had  risked  every- 
thing and  gone 
ashore  were  induced 
to  return  to  us,  and 
off  we  went  to 
Malta,  arriving 
there  behind  time. 
In  fact,  some  of  us 
never  arrived  at  all, 
for  once  again  we 
did  not  gel  close 
enough  to  the  land 
to  drop  anchor.  .\ 
few  reckless  njillion 
aires     ignored     the 


IMVl    11    1   P;>  'M      1  111--     1 
E    THE    WATER. 


[Photo. 


warning  of  our  care- 
ful     skip|x>r.     and. 
eluding   his   vigilance,    made   ior  ferra /iniia   in 
small  i)oals.     This  time  I  kept  them  com|)any. 

Everything  in   Malta  I  found  to  be  dry  and 
dusty,  but  nothing  was  drier  or  dustier  than 
driver   of   the    horse  which    pulled   the  vei 
which  carried  us  to  the  nearest  watering  pi 
I  say   "  watering-place,"  but   I  do  not  mean  u. 
Water  was  the  fluid  they  gave  away,  but  they 
tempered  their  generosity  with  justii  e,  and  com- 
pelled us   to    purchase  another  liquid   to   mix 
with  it. 

'J'here  are  manv  beautiful  sights  in  .Malta,  but 


258 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


nobody  has  ever  succeeded  in  seeing  them, 
just  as  you  are  about  to  gaze  on  something 
beautiful  a  band  of  beggars  puts  in  an 
appearance,  and  you  turn  away,  willing  to  lose  a 
glimpse  of  the  beautiful  in  avoiding  that  which 
is  decidedly  not  so. 

We  paid  a  visit  to  the  Palace  of  Skulls,  where 
they  stor?  the  bones  of  the  Knights  of  Malta. 
At  least,  that  is  what 
is  claimed  for  the 
bones.  Let  me  at 
once  admit  that 
bones  are  there- 
bones  in  abundance. 

The  walls  and 
ceilings  are  tastefully 
ornamented  with 
festoons  of  bones, 
and  grinning  skulls 
are  arranged  in  origi- 
nal patterns.  The 
remainder  of  the  grim 
consignment  is  piled 
up  in  heaps,  like 
kindling-wood  in  a 
grocery  store.  We 
had  a  millionaire 
soap  manufacturer  in 
our  crowd,  and  he 
nearly  died  with  envy 
at  the  sight  of  so 
much  good  material 
going  to  waste. 

There  is  no  charge  made  for  aaniission  to 
the  Palace  of  Skulls.  You  pay  as  you  go  out, 
and  you  are  so  glad  to  get  out  that  you  are 
not  particular  as  to  the  fee.  The  enter[)rise 
ought  to  return  a  good  dividend  to  the  share- 
holders. 

Our  guide  next  moved  on  to  the  Opera  House, 
which  we  were  gravely  informed  was  all  stone. 
The  most  careless  obseiver  would  have  been 
aware  of  the  truth  of  the  statement  so  f\ir  as  the 
outside  of  the  building  was  concerned,  but  when 
the  guide  stamped  on  a  wooden  stage  and  said 
"  All  stone,"  even  we  poor,  ignorant  travellers 
commenced  to  think,  and  when  he  pointed  to  a 
mirror  and  exclaimed  "  All  stone,"  we  began  to 
doubt.  So  also  when  he  shook  the  velvet 
curtains  and  cried  "All  stone,"  we  knew  it  as 
well  as  he  did,  but  had  not  the  courage  to  tell 
him  so. 

As  we  were  leaving  I  gave  him  a  shilling.  I 
thought  he  deserved  it.  He  bowed  low  and 
remo\((l  his  hat,  cx[)osinu  a  bald  head  to 
view. 

I  tapped  it  with  my  lorelmger,  inquiring, 
"All  stone?" 


THE    FL'NCH.-il 


From  a  Photo. 


He   smiled   seriously   and   answered,    "  Yes, 
sir  ;  all  stone." 
And  so  we  parted. 

\Ve  left  the  shore  and  made  for  our  ship. 
Five  passengers  in  one  boat  tried  to  obtain  a 
certain  amount  of  notoriety  by  being  upset.  It 
was  not  mentioned  in  the  prospectus  that  such 
luxuries  were  allowed,  and  the   rest   of  us   were 

naturally  jealous  of 
the  adventurous  five 
for  taking  such  a 
mean  advantage  of 
their  opportunity. 

A\"hen  the  boat 
upset,  a  tall,  thin 
Pittsburger,  with 
whiskers  trained  in 
the  manner  of  a 
\'orkshire  terrier, 
went  under  water 
with  a  long  cigar  in 
his  mouth.  \\'hen 
he  came  to  the  sur- 
face the  cigar  was 
still  with  him. 

Once  more  he 
went  below  ;  perhaps 
he  had  forgotten 
something.  Anyliow, 
the  cigar  did  not  for- 
sake him.  He  re- 
turned to  the  top 
and  was  remorselessly 
pulled  on  board,  despite  his  struggles,  with 
that  cigar  still  between  his  teeth. 

Somebody  said  to  him,  "  You  did  hang  on  to 
your  smoke." 

"Yes,"  he  replied,  "but  the  blamed  thing 
went  out." 

I  must  record  a  grand  effort  by  a  sailor  who 
leaped  to  the  rescue  from  the  upper  promenade 
deck,  a  distance  of  sixty  feet.  As  it  happened,  his 
attempt  was  not  wanted,  for  the  men  were 
rescued  before  he  reached  them,  but  his  daring 
act  was  one  more  proof  that  heroism  still  lives 
at  sea. 

I  expect  that  the  elongated  Pittsburger  was 
properly  cautioned  not  to  repeat  the  incident  of 
the  capsized  boat,  or  he  might  have  inveigled 
another  batch  of  passengers  into  taking  a  similar 
liberty  with  the  programme.  I  really  believe  he 
was  the  ringleader  in  the  whole  affair  ;  he  was 
so  cool  all  through  it. 


ni(]un'nig  turn  of  mind,  much 


(To  be  concluded.) 


A   lady  of  an 
interested  in  sensations,  asked  him,  "1  low  did 
you    feel    when    you    came    up  for  the    second 
time?" 

And  his  reply  was,  "Wet,  madam  ;  very  wet." 


ITa  Tramp 


Spain  \ 


SCVIU> 


P  Uy       bAKlKENNEDV 

I  1 1.  What  I  Saw  in      

^ — -^W'"^^  Seville 


We  have  pleasure  in  informing  our  readers  that  we  have  commissioned  Mr.  Bart  Kennedy— whose 
graphically-told  stories  of  his  experiences  in  many  lands  have  proved  so  popular-  to  tramp  through  the 
length  and  breadth  of  Spain,  that  most  romantic  of  European  countries.  Mr.  Kennedy  knows  not  a  word 
of  the  language,  carries  no  outfit  beyond  a  revolver  and  a  camera,  and  will  journey  afoot  right 
to  the  Pyrenees.  This  is  not  Mr.  Kennedy's  first  experience  as  a  tramp  in  a  strange  land,  and 
his  trip  is  proving  full  of  interest  and,  of  course,  not  a  little  adventure,  seeing  that  some  of  the  wildest 
and  most  inaccessible  spots  in  Europe  are  to  be  found  in  the  land  of  the  Dons.  It  is  safe  to  say  that 
this  journey    has   never   been    essayed    by  an  Englishman  under  similar  circumstances  before. 


HE  day  after  the  bull-fight  Campito 
and  I  had  dinner  together.  But  our 
conversation  was  at  first  rather  re- 
stricted, t)ecause  of  the  fact  that  he 
knew  no  English  and  I  knew  no 
Spanish.  "  Buena  "  and  "  toro  "  were  the  only 
words  of  which  we  had  a  common  knowledge, 
and  two  words  iietween  two  men  soon  become 
overworked.  We  had,  therefore,  to  take  refuge 
in  long  but  elocjuent  silences  and  fraternal 
looks. 

I  had  met  Campito  at  the  Plaza  de  Toros 
just  after  he  had  killed  his  last  bull,  and  the 
result  was  that  we  were  now  in  the  dining-room 
together  working  our  two  words  for  all  they  were 
worth — and  more. 

But  a  saviour  appeared  on  the  scene — Arturo 
Danino,  interpreter  and  past-master  in  the  art 
of  guiding  the  befogged  Briton.  Me  told  the 
torero  everything  I  wanted  to  tell  him  about  his 
de.xterity  and  courage  and  address,  and  the 
great  power  he  had  with   his  sword,  and  of  my 


enthusiasm  generally  for  bullfighting.  At  least, 
I  gathered  that  Danino  must  have  told  Campito 
all  this,  for  Campito  looked  pleased  and  asked 
if  it  were  not  possible  to  show  London  the  true 
inwardness  and  greatness  of  bull  lighting.  Such 
a  big  town  as  London  ought  to  have  bull  fights, 
argued  Campito.  "  Londra  I  Plaza  de '1' 
Buena  I ''  he  exclaimed,  emphatically.  I  hc\._... 
a  little  at  this  by  asking  Hanino  to  tell  him 
that  the  difficulty  in  England  might  possibly 
be  about  the  horses ;  and  the  conversation 
took  a  somewhat  safer  course. 

Campito  in  build  looked  ver)'  like  one  of  our 
own  light-weight  pugilists.  He  was  about  five 
feet  four  in  height,  and  in  weight  just  on  to  ten 
stone  :  a  handy  looking,  ([uick,  effective  figure 
of  a  man.  He  was  twenty  four  years  uhK  and 
belonged  to  Triana,  a  suburb  of  Seville.  He 
looked  like  a  pugilist  with  artistic  leanings. 

The  dinner  was  a  great  success,  despite  the 
fact  that  Campito  would  drink  but  little  wine. 
He  had  all  tlic  ti-ndrriK'Ss  of  the  athlete  as  to 


260 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


the  matter  of  keeping  fit  and  in  condition.  Had 
he  been  an  EngHshman,  and  a  boxer,  I  would 
have  backed  him  for  all  I  was  worth— and  all  I 
could  borrow — to  beat  anybody  his  own  weight. 

When  I  told  him  of  this,  through  Danino,  he 
looked  modest  and  shook  his  head.  And  then 
he  confided  to  us  the  fact  that  he  would  not 
for  the  world  fight  anyone  with  his  fists.  He 
would  be  nervous.  He  did  not  understand  the 
fists,  he  said.  But  the  cuchillo  (knife)  !  Ah  ! 
that  was  where  he  would  shine  !  Give  him  a 
knife  and  he  would  tackle  the  best  man  going. 

We  were  much  observed  by  the  Spaniards  as 
we  sauntered  out  of  the  dining-room,  Campito 
and  myself  arm-in-arm,  and  the  fluent  Danino 
following  in  our  wake.  As  we  got  near  the  door 
a  Spanish  gentleman  got  up  from  where  he  was 
sitting  and  bowed  profoundly  to  Campito.  Tiie 
torero  bowed  in  return.  I  bowed  in  sympathy. 
The  fluent  Danino  bowed ;  and  then  we  all 
bowed  again  and  passed  forth. 

We  went  along  to  a  cafe  in  the  Sierpas — the 
main  street — where  I  was  presented  to  toreros 
of  all  shapes,  sizes,  and  conditions.  And  over 
refreshments  Danino  interpreted  to  them  my 
boundless  enthusiasm  for  bull-fighting.  We  got 
on  famously.  Whenever  1  thought  that  Danino 
was  not  interpreting  me  adequately  I  made 
polite  sweeping  gestures  filled  with  meaning — 
or  intended  to  be. 

It  was  in  this  cafe  that  I  made  the  acquaintance 
of  aguardiente,  a  fine,  refreshing  drink  if  diluted 
with  water.  Whilst  we  were  here  a  torero  came 
in  named  Eduardo  Barrego  (Zocata).  All 
toreros,  by  the  way,  have  a  name  other  than 
their  real  name  by  which  they  are  known  pro- 
fessionally. Zocata  was  a  first-class  banderillero, 
who  had  seen  service  in  Madrid  with  the  famous 
matador  Mazzantini.  He  was  very  pleasant 
indeed  to  me,  was  this  banderillero,  and  he  told 
me  that  I  looked  very  like  Mazzantini.  He  said 
that  I  was  big  and  broad  like  the  famous 
matador,  and  that  I  had  the  same  kind  of  a  head. 
I  was  so  flattered  that  I  at  once  insisted  on 
standing  a  round  of  drinks.  Whilst  I  suspected 
that  the  compliment  was  diluted  with  politeness, 
still  it  was  only  courteous  for  me  to  show  appre- 
ciation. Evidently  my  boundless  enthusiasm  for 
the  national  sport  had  met  with  its  due  reward. 

I'Vom  the  caf^  Campito  and  Danino  and 
I  went  to  a  cafe  cantante  in  the  Alameda.  A 
performance  was  going  on  on  a  small  stage— set 
u|)  rather  high— at  the  end  of  the  cafe.  There 
was  no  charge  for  admission  ;  all  that  one  had 
to  do  was  to  order  drinks. 

Campito  was  bowed  to  with  the  utmost  respect 
by  everyone  in  the  cafe  who  could  catch  his  eye. 
I  my.self  came  in  for  a  good  deal  of  attention — 
or  rather,  I  should  say,  curiosity.     As  a  matter 


of  fact,  they  can  tell  an  Englishman  a  mile 
away  in  Spain.  Moreover,  I  was  wearing  a  pith 
helmet  that  I  had  got  in  Gibraltar  to  protect  my 
head  from  the  sun.  This  helmet  aroused  much 
interest,  and  a  Spaniard  who  sat  at  a  table  near 
asked  if  he  might  examine  it.  I  took  it  off 
and  handed  it  to  him.  He  looked  at  it  most 
critically,  balanced  it  carefully  in  his  hand,  and 
gave  it  back,  saying,  "  Buena  sombrero  I  "  My 
helmet  had  met  with  his  approval. 

The  audience  in  the  cafe  cantante  was  free 
and  easy  and  most  democratic.  There  were 
labourers,  artisans,  women  with  babies  in  their 
arms,  family  parties,  Spanish  officers,  strangers, 
mule-drivers,  and  various  others.  All  were 
sitting  rather  closely  together,  drinking  water  or 
coffee,  aguardiente  or  manzanilla  wine.  A  glass 
of  water  cost  ten  centimes  (nearly  a  penny),  an 
aguardiente  cost  thirty  centimes,  and  coff"ec  the 
same.  The  camereros  (waiters)  moved  from 
one  place  to  the  other,  crushing  in  between  the 
close-sitting  people.  How  they  managed  not  to 
spill  what  they  were  carrying  was  something  of  a 
mystery.  One  had  to  keep  twisting  and  twining 
and  wriggling  about  on  one's  chair  to  let  them 
squeeze  past  with  their  trays,  which  they  carried 
poised  up  high  on  the  tops  of  their  hands.  But 
no  one  seemed  to  mind  them.  Everyone  was 
good-natured  and  free  and  easy. 

On  the  stage  there  were  about  ten  men 
dressed  as  tramps — an  out-at-elbow,  ragged, 
curiously-hatted  crowd.  They  were  burlesquing 
a  street  band,  and  one  of  them  was  in  the 
centre  of  the  stage,  conducting  in  a  humorous, 
exaggerated  manner.  They  were  armed  with 
weird  and  wonderful  instruments,  and  the  noise 
they  made  was  still  more  weird  and  wonderful. 
The  man  who  played  the  big  drum  was 
especially  funny— a  low  comedian  of  talent. 

I  was  trying  to  get  it  into  my  head  what  the 
point  of  the  whole  thing  was,  when  suddenly 
they  stopped  their  discordant  playing  and  began 
to  sing  in  unison.  And  then  it  gradually 
became  clear  to  me.  They  were  singing  a 
topical  song.  This  I  could  tell  by  the  way  the 
audience  laughed  and  by  the  expressions  on  the 
faces  round  me.  At  the  end  of  each  verse  there 
was  a  short  discordant  interlude,  in  which  the 
man  with  the  big  drum  particularly  distinguished 
himself. 

I  was  thinking  how  funny  the  whole  affair 
was  when  all  at  once  the  people  in  the  audience 
began  to  turn  and  stare  at  me.  Campito  looked 
at  me  and  laughed,  and  I  laughed  in  turn, 
though  I  had  not  yet  grasped  the  point  of  the 
joke.  But  it  was  soon  revealed  to  me.  I 
caught  the  words  "Ingles"  and  "Boers"  from 
the  stage,  and  then  Danino  leaned  over  and  told 
me  that  the  comic  gentlemen  on  the  stage  were 


A     TRAMT     IN     SPAIN'. 


:6i 


telling,  with  humorous  and  wonderful  additions, 
of  the  way  in  which  tlie  Boers  had  beaten  the 
English.  At  this  I  wisely  laughed  out  more 
loudly  than  anyone  else,  and  the  incident  passed. 
What  really  impressed  me  at  the  cafe  cantanie 
was  the  singing  of  a  boy  named  Jose  Colorado. 
He  sang  Malaguenas  — 
old  songs  of  Malaga.  He 
just  sat  down  on  a  chair 
on  the  stage  and  sang, 
whilst  a  man  accom- 
panied him  oil  the  guitar. 
There  was  no  altem[)t  to 
get  stage  effect.  'I'iie  boy 
sat  in  a  rather  crouched- 
up  position  and 


gave 


out     the 


song.  And 
such  a  song ! 
1 1  w as  hun- 
dreds of  years 
old  and  wild  as 
the  mountains 
of  Malaga.  It 
began  with  a 
sort  of  1  o  \v 
croon,  and  then 
it  burst  sud 
denly  out  into 
an  air  strange 
and  terrible. 
It  was  a  song 
telling  of  blood 
and  hatred  and 
revenge  —  a 
song  such  as  a 
hard  mountain 
woman  would 
sing  to  her  in- 
fant son  to  spur 
him   to  avenge 


wrong 
shame. 


and 


--:i  } 


To  wander  , 

alone  through  a 
strange  foreign 
town    at    dead 

of  night  has  "«IIAT    KKMIY    IMI'lilSMOD    Ml-:    A'l     TIIE    CAI- 

about     it     the 

fascination  that  belongs  to  darkness  and  mystery 
and  danger.  \'ou  have  no  idea  of  where  you 
are  going,  or  wiiat  you  will  meet,  or  what  will 
happen.  Some  rude  stranger  may  suddenly 
appear  and  request  you  to  lend  him  for  an 
indefinite  period  all  the  money  you  chance  to 
have  in  your  possession.  ( )r  some  still  more 
impolite  pers(jn  may  knock  you  on  the  head 
first  and  borrow  your  wealth  afterwards. 


On  these  nocturnal  explorations  it  is  as  well 
for  you  to  be  armed  and  to  be  ready — and, 
above  all,  to  take  no  heed  of  polite  jKople  who 
wish  to  enter  into  conversation  with  you.  Just 
go  on  and  look  round— and  be  ready.  And  all 
will  be  well ;  you  will  find  yourself  awake  next 

morning. 

I  had  wan- 
dered in  and 
out  through 
narrow,  dark 
streets  till  I 
found  myself 
in  the  I'la/a  del 
Museo.  I  knew 
it  by  the  statue 
of  Murillo  that 
stood  up  aloft 
in  the  centre  of 
it.  I  could  just 
make  out  the 
figure  through 
the  darkness. 

I  walked  to- 
wards a  man 
who  was  sitting 
on  a  bench. 
Near  him  a 
lamp  was  burn- 
ing. He  sat 
T~  _  listless     and 

still,  almost  as 
'        .  if  Ufe  had  left 

him.  At  once 
I  knew  what 
was  the  matter 
with  him.  He 
was  a  m  a  n 
alone  and  {)en- 
niless,  a  n  d 
without  friends. 
He  was  not  a 
beggar,  or  he 
would  have 
asked  ine  for 
something  as  I 
stood  looking 
at  him.  He 
was  just  a  man 
who  had 

under  who  had  gone  down  m  the  world  .  ■•■iv 
of  the  outi.asts  of  Seville. 

I  myself  had  sat  in  just  such  a  way,  listless 
and  still,  as  this   nian   was   sittii  T   '  A 

sat   in  a  great   town,   hungry,   li: ,  '. 

antl  alone,  and  a  man  had  t  ome  up,  given  me  a 
coin,  and  passed  on  without  saying  a  word. 
And  I  handed  this  man  a  coin  and  passed  on 
across  the  pi a/a. 


E   CANTANIE    WAS     1  HK   SINGI,\G   OK  .\    IHlV. 


262 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


An  hour  passed,  and  1  had  no  idea  now  as  to 
what  part  of  Seville  I  was  in.  I  had  wandered 
aimlessly  along,  taking  no  note  as  to  the  direction 
in  which  I  was  going. 

A  fire  had  broken  out  in  the  town.  The  glare 
of  the  great  flame  was  filling  the  sky.  I  hurried 
along  towards  it,  and  soon  I  was  joined  by  others. 
On  we  went  together  through  the  streets,  till  at 
last  we  came  out  into  the  open  space  of  a  plaza. 
It  was  the  Plaza  San  Fernando,  and  across  it 
we  could  see  a  house  in  flames. 

The  shadows  were  deep  and  dark  in  the 
plaza  as  I  ran  across.  I  fell  over  a  seat  in  the 
scramble,  but  I  was  up  quickly,  and  in  a  moment 
I  was  standing  with  the  crowd  in  front  of  the 
burning  house.  It  was  an  inn,  and  it  stood  in  a 
small  street  which  ran  directly  off  from  the 
plaza.  Already  the  fire  had  got  well  hold  of  it. 
It  was  crackling  and  burning  and  flaming  away. 
Just  over  the  burning  house  was  the  word 
"Tintores,"  in  big  letters.  The  word  shone 
out  steadily  in  the  midst  of  the  redness  and  the 
shining  of  the  flames,  and  somehow  attracted 
the  eye  more  than  did  the  house  itself.  I 
sup[)osa  it  was  the  name  of  the  street. 

It  was  now  something  after  two  in  the 
morning. 

The  street  was  narrow,  and  it  concentrated 
the  heat  so  that  it  was  impossible  to  go  up  it. 
We  just  stood  at  the  edge  of  the  i)laza  and 
looked  at  the  flames.  I  listened  to  the  excited 
talk  around  me  in  the  hope  of  hearing  English 
spoken.  I  wanted  to  make  a  suggestion,  or  to 
do  something,  or  to  ask  if  there  were  anyone  in 
the  burning  inn.  J'uit  I  heard  no  word  I  could 
understand. 

No  one  was  doing  anything  but  talking,  and 
pointing  out,  and  shouting.  There  were  no 
firenun  about  and  no  sign  of  any  coming,  and 
there  seemed  to  be  no  water  around,  and  no 
attempt  to  get  any.  "  Agua  !  ^'  I  exclaimed  to 
a  man  who  was  standing  close  up  against  me. 
"  Agua : "  he  repeated,  then  shook  his  head. 
"  No  agua,"  he  said,  and  so  there  was  no  water, 
and  no  attempt  to  do  anything.  And  if  there 
had  been  any  wind  going,  all  the  houses  extend- 
ing from  the  street  and  along  one  side  of  the 
plaza  would  have  been  burned  down. 

1  had  never  .seen  such  a  thing  before.  This 
wa>,  indeed  the  working  out  of  the  Sj)anish 
idea  of  "  manana  "  with  a  vengeance.  Nobody 
seemed  to  care.  They  were  only  curious.  In 
fact,  the  only  |)eo|)Ie  who  showed  any  sign  of 
activity  were  a  few  watchmen,  who  were  standing 
just  in  front  of  the  crowd.  They  were  armed 
with  short  lances,  and  every  now  and  then  one 
of  them  w(juld  turn  and  |)ush  against  the  crcmd 
with  the  stock  of  his  lan( c.  They  wished  to 
show    their    authority    by    keeping    tlie    people 


back.  But  they  took  no  interest  in  the  fire  so 
far  as  the  putting  of  it  out  was  concerned. 
They  were  merely  there  to  keep  order  amongst 
the  spectators. 

Half  an  hour  passed  and  then  a  fire-bell 
began  to  ring  solemnly  from  out  of  the  dark- 
ness across  the  plaza.  One  could  have  laughed 
but  for  the  fact  of  the  danger.  A  fire-bell  ring- 
ing out  after  the  fire  had  been  going  half  an 
hour  I 

After  nearly  another  half-hour  I  heard  the 
clattering  of  the  hoofs  of  horses.  Surely  it  was 
not  possible  that  the  firemen  were  coming  ? 
Yes,  they  were,  for  along  came  a  small  engine 
and  three  firemen.  And  now  the  watchmen 
performed  wonderful  deeds  of  energy.  They 
dashed  and  jumped  around,  and  rattled  the 
butts  of  their  lances  on  the  stones,  and  pushed 
and  shoved,  to  get  the  crowd  somewhere. 
Where,  I  don't  know.  It  was  amusing.  I 
thought  they  were  going  to  eat  us.  Even  after 
we  had  divided  to  let  the  engine  pass,  these 
watchmen  performed  their  deeds  of  energy.  I 
was  disgusted.  And  I  came  near  to  punching 
one  of  them  who  had  the  nerve  to  try  and  shove 
me  through  the  wall  of  a  house. 

Ah  I  Now  we  were  getting  there.  A  fireman 
was  actually  coupling  the  hose.  But  the  fire 
itself  was  now  getting  into  a  rather  parlous 
condition.  It  had  gutted  the  inn  and  was  dying 
down  of  itself.  If  the  firemen  were  not  quick  it 
would  be  out  before  they  could  do  anything. 

At  last !  The  nozzle  at  the  end  of  the  hose 
was  pointed  at  the  dying  flames  and  the  tap  was 
turned  on,  and  everyone  became  breathless. 
The  crucial  instant  had  arrived. 

But  nothing  happened.  The  nozzle  was 
simply  like  a  gun  that  would  not  go  off".  There 
was  no  water  after  all  I 

But  wait  -hold  on  I  Theie  7t'(is  water.  A 
small,  half-timid  stream  came  forth,  and  the 
crowd  cheered — positively  cheered— as  the  fire- 
man valorously  directed  the  feel)le  jet  of  water 
on  to  the  almost  dead  fire.      I  came  away. 

I  dropped  into  the  Museo  Provincial  to  look 
at  the  pictures.  But,  to  be  (juite  frank,  I  can 
never  a[)[)reciate  pictures  in  museums. 

I  was  looking  rcjund  .the  museum  when  an 
attendant  came  U[)  to  me  and  bowed  in  a  most 
polite  manner.  I  bowed  in  return,  and  then  he 
spoke  to  me  at  length  in  ([uick,  fluent  Spanish. 
I  replied  in  English.  Again  he  spoke  in  Spanish 
and  again  I  replied  in  longlish.  Then  he  took 
refuge  in  the  l-'rench  that  is  affected  by  guides 
and  waiters.  I  know  it  now  by  its  sound.  1 
replied  again  in  I'^nglish,  and  then  the  altrndant 
had  rec(;urse  to  a  more  ])rimitive  method  o\ 
conveying  ideas.      He  made  sign.s,  and  at   last  I 


A    TRAMP     IN     >1'.\IN- 


.;'> 


S 


got  his  meaning.  He  wanted  to  show  nie  round 
and  explain  the  pictures.  He  wanted  to  be  my 
guide  antl  mentor  generally  for  the  modest  con- 
sideration of  a  couple  of  jjcsetas. 

He  made  it  clear  to  me  that  he  wanted  a 
couple  of  pesetas  for  showing  me  round,  but  he 
failed  to  make  it  quite  so  clear  Iiow  he  was 
going  to  ex- 
plain the  pic- 
tures. T  h  e 
situation  had 
its  humour. 
Here  was  I 
with  eyes  to 
look  at  the  pic- 
tures, and  here 
was  a  man  who 
couldn't  speak 
my  language, 
and  who  wan- 
ted to  explain 
everything  for  a 
consideration. 
I  suppose  he 
had  to  make 
his  living. 

In  Seville 
one  is  struck 
with  the  fact 
that  before  all 
the  doors  and 
all  the  windows 
there  is  a  bar- 
rier of  strong 
iron  bars.  As 
you  pass  along 
through  the 
streets  at  night 
you  will  get 
glimpses 
through  the 
bars  of  bril- 
liantly lit  up 
patios,  or  court- 
yards. It  is 
said  that  the 
.Spaniard  got 
the  idea  of  the 
|)atio  from   the 

Moors.  In  the  jjatios  the  peoi)le  of  tlic  house 
sit  and  talk  when  the  heat  of  the  day  has 
gone  down.  Here  are  palms  and  beautiful 
flowers,  and  often  a  fountain  plays  in  the  miiitUe 
of  it. 

It  is  pleasant  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  sucli  a 
place  when  you  are  going  along  a  narrow,  ill- 
paved  street.  It  refreshes  and  cheers  one  u|). 
The  Sevillanos,  by  the  way,  don't  bother  them- 


w:^. 


AS  VUU  I'ASS  HV  VOL'  MUST  ONLY  USIi  TIIK  COKNEK  OK  VOUK  EVK  IN    I  AKI.Sti  IN  TUB  >tENK 


sehcs  much  about  their  streets.  If  there  i>  a 
hole  in  the  roatlway,  a  nian  is  supposed  to 
know  enough  to  walk,  or  feel  his  way,  around  it. 
At  night  as  you  go  along  you  will  often  see  a 
young  man  standing  outside  the  iron  bars  at  a 
window  and  looking  upwards.  Vou  mightn't 
believe  it  exactly— but,  well,  this  young  man  is 

making  love. 
Vou  will  see  as 
you  go  past. 
high  up  above 
him,  on  the 
other  side  of 
the  bars,  his 
lady-love.  As 
you  pass  by  you 
must  only  use 
the  corner  of 
your  eye  in 
taking  in  the 
scene.  To  turn 
and  look  round 
would  be  con- 
sidered intru- 
sive, and  might 
cause  the  Span- 
ish Romeo  to 
get  excited. 

The  Fabrica 
de  Tabacos  is 
a  great  build- 
ing, at  once 
square  and  pic- 
turesque. In  it 
are  employed 
between  lour 
and  five  thou- 
sand of  the 
women  of  Se- 
\ille.  All  day 
lopg  ihey  work, 
rolling  anil 
twisting  and 
making  cigars 
and  cigarettes, 
r  his  i  s  a 
WDik^Iw'p  t!  .It 
wa->  t  In  u«i  by 
l)uiKkrs  who 
were  possessed  of  a  .sense  of  the  harmonious 
ami  the  beautiful.  Over  its  p«'i-  '  •  '<  a 
statue  of  Columbus,   the   great   .s;ii  ,    ve 

dominion  to  Spain.  The  entrance  to  it  is  lioni 
tlu-  (alle  de  San  I'ernaiulo,  a  broad,  slr.iiglu, 
well-kept  roail,  along  which  •'"■  u.mh.  n  ii.iss  t.i 
and  from  their  work. 

The  women  sit  working  here  at  tables  in  like 
lonii.  dim  roonis     .All  sorts  of  women     old  and 


264 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


young,  and  beautiful  and  plain  ;  some  of  them 
with  little  babies.  Vou  will  see  a  mother  rock- 
ing a  cradle  gently  and  at  the  same  time  working. 
At  the  end  of  each  long,  dim  room  one 
notices  the  soft  shining  of  light.  It  is  from 
an  altar  upon  which  candles  are  burning  and 
upon  which  there  are  always  fresh,  beautiful 
flowers.  The  women  put  them  there.  Before 
these  altars  they  bow  as  they  pass,  or  stop  and 
-pray  before  the  Virgin.  Many  people  come  to 
see  them  at  their  work. 

I  had  nc\er  seen  so  many  wunicn  together 
before.  All 
of  them  were 
at  the  same 
time  busy  at 
their  work 
and  talking, 
looking  up 
at  us  as  we 
passed,  and 
we  came  at 
last  to  a 
patio  from 
which  the 
long  rooms 
ran  out  in 
many  direc- 
tions. It 
was  as  if  one 
were  stand- 
i  n  g  in  a 
centre  of 
light  from 
which  ran 
many     long, 


dim  roads,  and  these  roads  were  all  filled 
with  the  faces  of  women,  and  at  the  end  of 
each  of  the  roads  could  be  seen  a  soft  gleam  of 
light — the  altar.  And  the  faces  of  the  women 
were  all  turned  towards  the  centre  of  light 
at  the  patio  from  all  directions,  and  the  eye 
followed  the  faces  till  they  were  lost  in  the 
dimness  of  the  rooms,  and  had  become  blended 
with  the  soft  light  of  the  altars  at  the  end.  It 
was  as  if  one  were  looking  into  the  faces  of  all 
the  women  of  the  world.  The  effect  upon  one 
standing  here  in  the  patio  was  strange  and  not 
to  be  described. 

were 


Although 


there 


so     many    workers 
here  in  the  great 
factory,  the  gen- 
eral    effect    was 
one    of    quiet. 
There    was      no 
loud  noise.    And 
when      I      went 
back     again     to 
the   patio   it 
seemed  al- 
most   as     if 
the    thou- 
sands   of 
women  were 
working      in 
utter  silence, 
w  h  i  1  e    the 
d  i  ni    altar 
lights      gave 
to  the  whole 
scene  a  "quiet 
dignity. 


//<S^ 


r*\:^f 


■'  Tllli   (JKNKIiAI.    KKKKCT    WAS   O.NIi   Oh    IJUIKT." 


(  7'(f   he  coii/iiii/fif. ) 


Twenty-Five  Years  in   Nigeria. 


])\  Wii  i.iAM  \V.\i  LACE,  C.M.G.,  H.M.  Deputy-Commissioner  for  Northern  Nigeria. 

11. 

An  important  article  by  an  ex-official  of  the  Royal  Niger  Company.     Mr.  Wallace  has  much  that  is 

interesting  to  say  concerning  "Ju-ju  "  and  the  terrible  cannibal  tribes  of  the  interior,  and  illustrates 

his  descriptions  with  some  remarkable  photogiaphs.     Mr.  Wallace  is  one  of  the  only  two  Europeans 

who  have  ever  set  foot  in  the  Sultan  of  Sokoto's  capital. 


IR  FREDERICK  LUGARD,  by 
his  able  and  energetic  admmis- 
tration,  is  gradually  pushing  civiliza- 
tion into  the  heart  of  the  Soudan, 
and  he  has  now  removed  the 
Government  head-quarters  from  Jebba  to  a  spot 
nearly  one  hundred  miles  to  the  eastward,  in  the 
direction  of  Kano.  The  new  administrative 
centre  is  near  Wushishi,  on  the  Kadun^^  River, 
and  here  work,  is  in  rapid  progress,  thousands  of 
natives  being  employed  in  transporting  building 
and  railway  material  to  the  head  of  navigation, 
whence  a  line  of  railway  twenty  miles  long  runs 
to  the  new  capital.  The  Kaduna  is  very  shallow 
during  the  dry  season,  and  my  first  photograph 
shows  the  arrival  of  the  British  Commissioner 
in    his    larsic    steel    canoe.      General 


Lugard 


occupies  a  prominent  place  in  the  front  of  the 
vessel,  which  is  being  practically  lifted  over  the 
shallows  of  the  river  by  the  crowd  of  natives. 
Hie  next  picture  shows  the  primitive  method  of 
transporting  material  in  vogue  in  this  region. 
I  took  the  photograph  on  the  occasion  of  the 
removal  of  some  material  for  the  railway.  On 
the  banks  of  the  stream  are  gathered  thousands 
of  excited  natives  engaged  in  handling  the  rails, 
while  the  canoe  in  the  foreground  is  being 
paddled  to  the  bank  to  the  accompaniment  of 
much  tomtoming,  in  order  to  be  loaded  and 
dispatched  on  a  si.vday  journey  up  river.  This 
method  of  j)rocedure  is,  of  course,  only  adopted 
during  the  dry  season,  when  there  is  not  enough 
water  for  steamers. 

The  third   photograph    shows    the  palace  of 


lilt;  uHirii>M  coM.M'ssio.s'KK  A^u  HIS  !>tebl  ca.noe. 


(/'4«/» 


266 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


ijlki.ng  the   ukv  season  all  the   KAILUAV  .MATEKIAI 
has  to  be  conveyed  in  canoes. 

From  a  Photo. 


the  King  of  the  Canoemen,  to  whom  I  have 
already  referred.  On  the  banks  of  the  river 
are  to  be  seen  quantities  of  railway  material 
which  have  been  landed  from  the  steamers  and 
are  awaiting  canoe  transport.  The  line  in 
question  runs  from  the  Kaduna  River  to  Zun- 
geru,  a  distance  of  twenty  miles,  and  is  one  of  the 
smartest  bits  of  railway  work  ever  carried  out 
in  the  British 
colonies,  for  with- 
in five  months  of 
the  material  being 
ordered  in  Eng- 
land the  line  was 
in  complete  run 
ning  order.  I  will 
leave  it  to  the 
reader  to  imagine 
what  expedition 
was  necessary  to 
accomplish  this, 
merely  [Kjinting 
out  that  every 
minute  p(jrlif;n  of 
the  plant  h.id  to 
be  conveyed  five 
hundred  miles 
into  the  interior. 
It  is  true  we  have 
no  train  de  luxe 
on  this  narrow- 
gauge  line,  but 
twice  every  day  a 
train  of  one  l(jco- 
motive  with  long, 
heavy  waggons        /.>.,„, ,.j 


runs  over  the  section.  The  engineers  are  now 
constructing  a  further  ten  miles  of  road  to 
connect  the  line  with  l)etter  navigation  on  the 
Kaduna.  Eventually  this  will  most  likely  con- 
nect with  the  proposed  line  from  Lagos  to 
Kano.  In  my  fourth  photo,  is  seen  the  King 
of  Wushishi,  who,  together  with  his  suzerain, 
the  Emir  of    Kontagora,  was  driven  off  by  the 


I  ME    I'ALACE   III-     1H1-.    KINti   Ul-     IHE   (.ANoEME.N', 


yriwii). 


TWENTY -FIVE    YEARS    IN    NIGERIA. 


267 


Front  a] 


IHE    KING   OF    WUSHISHI    AM)    HIS        COURT. 


British.  This  man  was  formerly  a  great  slave 
raider,  hut  has  now  returned  and  settled  down 
under  British  administration  near  the  new 
capital. 

We  have  next  to  consider  a  portrait  of  a  mag- 
nificent specimen  of  the  Munshi  people,  who  are 
notorious  for  the  deadly-poisoned  arrows  with 
which  they  are  armed.  No  antidote  has  ever 
been  discovered  for  this  poison,  which  proves 
fatal  to  Europeans  in  about  five  minutes. 
During  a  former  expedition  on  the  Benue  we 
lost  six  Europeans  from  this  cause,  all  of  them 
dying  in  convulsions  within  a  few  minutes  of 
being  hit.  The  individual  who  forms  the  subject 
of  the  picture  had  been  captured  by  the 
Mohammedans  and  employed  as  a  herdsman. 
He  was  released  by  the  British  and  taken  on  as 
a  carrier.  The  Munshi  country  extends  from  a 
hundred  miles  above  Eokoja  to  near  Ibi,  cover- 
ing an  area  of  twenty  thousand  square  miles  on 
both  banks  of  the  Benue.  It  has  not  yet  been 
entirely  pacified,  for  the  Munshis  are  a  most 
intractable  tribe,  each  man  being  his  own 
master  and  responsible  to  no  one  for  his 
actions.  They  are  agriculturists  and  expert 
hunters,  and,  after  killing  their  prey  with  their 
poisoned  arrows,  eat  the  flesh,  after  first  care- 
fully cutting  away  the  infected  portion  round 
the  wound. 

The  grou[)  of  Munshis  on  the  next  page  was 
taken  this  year,  while  on  an  expedition  towards 
l^ike  'ichad.  This  tribe  possesses  the  skull  of 
an  old   friend  of  mine,  whom    they  killed   some 


[r/wto. 


twelve  years  ago.  He 
was  an  employe  of 
the  Niger  Company, 
and  was  treacher- 
ously murdered.  I 
have  many  times 
tried  to  obtain  pos- 
session of  this  skull, 
but  without  success, 
as  the  people  keep 
it  as  a  "Ju-ju." 

Kour  and  a  half 
days'  journey  from 
the  confluence  of 
the  Benue  is  Nupe, 
on  the  Niger,  the 
scene  of  the  next 
[jhoto.,  taken  by  me 
in  1 89 7,  after  the 
conquest  of  Bida  by 
Sir  deorge  (ioldie. 
The  Ceremony  de- 
picted is  that  of  the 
coronation  of  Mal- 
1am  Isa  (ianna,  who 
was  installed  by  us 


A    MfN^lll—  I  \' 


268 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


A   GROUt'   Of    MUNbHIS — THESK    TRIUESMEN    I'OSSESS   THE   SKULL   OK    A    FRIEN'O   OF   THE    AL1  HOK,    WHICH    THEY 

Front  a]  regaro  as  a  "ju-ju."  [Photo. 


as  Emir  of  Western  Nupe.  He  is  the 
representative  of  the  old  race  of  Nupe  kings 
whom  the  Fulanis  had  kept  in  lu.xurious 
captivity.  Upon  Bida  being  captured  he  was 
released.  At  the  time  the  photograph  was  taken 
the  coronation  ceremony  had  just  been  com- 
pleted, and  the  State  trumpeters  were  blowing 


a  salute  on  their  eight  feet  long  horns,  which 
emit  curiously  discordant  sounds.  Thousands 
of  natives  were  assembled  for  the  occasion,  and 
the  shouting  of  the  peo[)le,  the  blaring  of  the 
trumpets,  and  the  beating  of  the  drums  were 
enough  to  deafen  a  European  permanently. 
The   next  picture   was   taken  at    Eokoja  last 


I'lom  a\ 


I  Ml-.    tOHONAllON   Ol-    TUli    I.MIR    OF    WESIliKN    Mil 


{r::r:o. 


TWl'XrV    II\'i:    VKARS    IN    NKIERIA. 


269 


year  0:1  the  arrival 
of  an  emissary  from 
the  chief  Fadr  el 
Allah,  the  son  of  the 
late  Sultan  Raheh, 
to  ask  for  the  pro 
tection  of  tlie  British 
Ciovernment.  Since 
then  Fadr  el  Allah 
has  been  killed  in  a 
fight  witli  thel'Vench. 
The  trappings  of  the 
horse,  as  can  be 
seen,  are  beautifully 
fashioned  of  nuilli- 
coloured  Hausa 
leather  hung  with 
native  bells.  This 
emissary  brought 
with  him  an  escort 
of  a  hundred  men  all 
armed  with  different 
sorts  of  rifles.  They 
were  nice,  smart  fel- 
lows, mostly  of  Arab 
blood.  On  hearing 
of  the  fate  of  their  leader  most  of 
them  joined  the  West  African 
Frontier  Force. 

Probably  one  of  the 
most  important  of  recent 
events  in  Northern  Nigeria 


AN      EMISSARY      PROM 
FADR   EL   ALLAH  ASK- 
NG         FOR  BRITISH 

FROTECTION'. 


is  the  conquest  of  the  great  slave-raiding 
<ountry  of  Hautchi,  situated  half-way 
Ixtween    l.okoja   and    I.nke    Tchad. 

The  |)icture  introduced  Ijclow  is  a 
representation  of  a  remarkable  scene 
which  we  witnessed  on  entering  the 
liautchi  capital,  for 
none  of  the  inhabi- 
tants had  seen  a 
white  man  since  the 
explorer  Harth  passed 
through  during  the 
fifties.  ICvcn  the 
children  were  armed 
with  spears,  but  I 
am  glad  to  say  no 
hostile  demonstra- 
tion occurred.  All 
the  same,  the  people 
maintained  a  sullen 
demeanour,  and 
none  of  us  knew  how 
soon  we  should  be 
attacked,  or  when 
the  horsemen,  who 
we  learnt  were  up  at 
the  palace,  would 
come  galloping  down 
upon  us.  The  Emir 
fled,  and  we  duly  in- 
stalled his  brother, 
Omoru.  a  man  forty 


AT     IMK    CAIITAl.   OF    BAUTCIIl— THE    PEOPLE    HAD    NOT   SF.hS    A    WHITfc.   MAN    KOK    rilK  n 


270 


THE   WIDE   WORLD   MAGAZINE. 


OMORU, 


five  years  of  age,  whose  por- 
trait is  here  given,  in  his  stead. 
A  British  resident  was  also 
appointed,  and  the  new  ruler 
— who  is  behaving  very  well 
under  British  tutelage — sent 
down  his  State  band  to  per- 
form for  our  benefit.  My  last 
photo,  shows  this  motley  crowd 
of  "  musicians "  outside  the 
walls  of  the  palace.  It  will  be 
noticed  that  drums  predomin- 
ate, all  the  other  instruments 
being  of  reed.  The  musicians 
proved  to  be  marvellous  play- 
ers, and  they  have  such  com- 
mand over  their  drums  that 
they  can  almost  make  them 
speak.  They  have  brought 
signalling  by  means  of  drums 
to  perfection. 

1  could  go  on  relating  inci- 
dents of  Nigerian  life,   but   it 
seems    to    me    that    I    am 
already  exceeding  my  limits, 
so  I  will  conclude  with  one 
which   befell   me  in    1888. 
Early  in  that  year  the  Emir 
of  Bida  summoned  me  to 
his  town,  where  were  also 
assembled  the  foreign  and  British  residents  and 
merchants.   A  great  durbar  was  held  in  the  palace 
gruund.s,    at    which    all    his    chiefs,    arrayed    in 
gorgeou  s 
cost  u  mes, 
were  assem- 
bled.     Sud- 
denly he  de- 
nounced me 
before  the 
assembled 
multitude, 
and     de- 
manded to 
know  why  we 
(the     Royal 
Niger  Com- 
pany)   h.ul 
taken      his 
country  and 
were  collect- 
ing    ta.xes. 
After  haran- 
guing    his 
people    he 
made  a  sig- 
nal, and  in- 
stantly   two 
executioners 


INSTALLED   AS    EMIR   OF    BAUTCHI 
IIY    MR.     WAI.l.ACF. 


I'roiit  a  Photo. 


From  n  1 


IIIK    KMIRS   STAI  K    HAND. 


carrying  beheading  swords  of 
great   size    appeared    on    the 
scene  and  squatted  down  on 
cither   side   of   me.      On   my 
refusing  to  promise  to  cancel 
our     treaty    rights    regarding 
taxation  of  foreigners,   I   was 
ledoff  the  ground  and,momen- 
tarilyexpecting  to  be  executed, 
was    conducted     to    a    filthy 
courtyard,    where    I   was    ini- 
])risoned  and  watched   by  an 
armed   guard  day  and  night. 
I   was   warned    that    if   I    at- 
tempted escape  I  should   be 
instantly  killed.      For  seven- 
teen days  I  was  thus  kept  in 
durance  vile,  when,  to  my  sur- 
prise and  joy,  I  was  again  sum- 
moned before  the  Emir,  who, 
on  finding   nie  obdurate,  pre- 
sented me  with  two  ostriches 
for  the  Queen,  and  delivered 
back    the    company's   flag 
whichhehad  taken, and  beg- 
ged me  not  to  mention  what 
he  had  done.     How  gladly 
I  left  his  town  can   be   im- 
agined, but  I  did  not  feel  safe 
until  I  again  saw  the  Niger. 
Slave-raiding   has  during  the  j)ast  six  years 
been     practically    stamped    out     in     Northern 
Nigeria    and    the     country    has     before     it     a 

great  future. 
Safe  and 
con  ten  ted 
untler  British 
rule,  t  li  e 
people  are 
naininif  con- 
fidence  and 
coming  back 
to  the  land. 
A  large  por- 
tion of  the 
country  de- 
vastated by 
cruel  raids 
and  savage 
rites  needs 
r  epopulat- 
ing. 

Thirty  years 
hence  Nige- 
ria will  be 
a  populous 
a  n  d  p  r  o  s  - 
|)erous  coun- 
\riwio.        tr)'. 


An  account  of  a  remarkable  act  of  piracy  committed  by  the  Government  of  the  Republic  of  Colombia. 
One  of  the  periodical  revolutions  was  in  progress,  and  in  order  to  fight  the  rebel  fleet  the  Government 
calmly  seized  and  armed  the  Chilian  steamer  "  Lautaro  "  in  flagrant  defiance  of  the  law  of  nations. 
The    narrative    tells    the   story  of    the    seizure,    the    battle    that    followed,    and   the  tragic  ending   of  the 

stolen   ship's   career  as  a  man-of-war. 


T  the  beginning  of  this  year  the 
Repubhc  of  Colombia  was  convulsed 
by  a  great  revolution.  The  rebels 
were  playing  havoc  with  the  Govern- 
ment troops  on  land,  and,  not 
satisfied  with  fighting  them  on  sliore,  they 
menaced  the  coast  towns  by  sea,  having  secured 
and  armed  two  small  ships,  with  the  intention  of 
cai)turing  Panama  itself. 

In  order  to  destroy  the  msurgents'  "fleet," 
the  Colombian  Covernment,  being  hard  pressed 
for  ships,  suddenly  seized  the  steamship  Lautaro, 
a  Chilian  steamer  which  was  then  lying  in  the 
Bay  of  Panama.  They  manned  and  armed 
her,  put  her  proper  crew  ashore,  and  then  gave 
battle  to  the  rebels  with  this  ship  which  did  not 
belong  to  them  and  to  which  they  had  absolutely 
no  right.  By  .so  doing  they  committed  an 
unpardonable  act  of  international  piracy. 

'I'he  civilized  world  allows  the  turbulent 
republics  of  Central  and  South  America  to  have 
revolutions,  and  to  fight  between  themselves 
whenever  they  care  to  do  so — which  is  pretty 
often — on  condition  that  they  respect  the  lives 
and  property  of  foreigners  ;  but  the  Coloml)ian 
Government,  by  seizing  the  Lautaro  in  the  way 


they  did,  committed  a  grave  breach  of  the  inter- 
national law  that  governs  all  civili/ed  nations 
whether  during  a  period  of  revolution  or  not. 
Such  an  impudent  seizure  on  the  part  of  anv 
Government  in  these  prosaic  days  may  well 
occasion  surprise.  Had  a  European  Power 
done  such  a  thing  the  consequences  would  have 
been  disastrous,  but,  seeing  it  was  the  act  of 
an  irresponsible  South  American  republic,  the 
matter  ended  by  the  offenders  making  an 
apology  and  paying  the  value  of  the  stolen 
vessel. 

The  Lautaro  was  a  single- screw  iron  steamer 
of  2,085  tons  register,  built  in   1S72  by  M< 
R.  anil  J.   I^vans  and  Co.,  Liverpool,  her  i...;..- 
then  being  the  Rimac.     She  was  owned  by  the 
Compania    Sud    Americana    de   Vapores,   and 
made  the  regular  itinerary  voyage  of  that  com- 
pany  up  and   down    the  West    Coast   of  South 
America,   from    Puerto   .Montt.    in  the  south  of 
Chili,     to     Panama,    aiul    back    to    Va' 
calling  at  the  principal  ports  en  route,     r- 
a   good   sea-going   vessel  and  had  comfortable 
passenger  accommodation. 

On  what  proved   to  be   her  last  voyage  she 
was  commaiuled  bv  Captain  Herlx-rt  W.  I^ce. 


272 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


Her  crew  consisted  of  three  otificers,  four 
engineers,  and  a  crew  of  about  fifty,  this  number 
including  the  stewards,  cooks,  etc. 

Captain  H.  W,  Lace  has  been  in  the  service 
of  the  Chilian  steamship  company  referred 
to  for  many  years.  I  am  scjrry  that  his 
modesty  prevents  me  from  l)cing  able  to  print 
his  photograph  in  these  pages,  as  his  plucky 
conduct  is  deserving  of  all  praise.  He  refused 
to  leave  his  ship  when  all  the  rest  of  the  crew 
went  on  shore,  and  stayed  with  her  during  the 
whole  of  her  short  and  sanguinary  career  as  a 
warship. 

The  Laiitaro  left  Valparaiso  for  Panama  on 
the  evening  of  the    25th   of   December,    1901. 


out  the  new  warships  that  the  Chilian  Covern- 
nient  had  recently  purchased.  Her  cargo  con- 
sisted of  the  usual  varied  merchandise  for  the 
different  coast  ports. 

She  called  at  Coquimbo,  Huasco,  Taltal, 
Chaiiaral,  Carrizal  Bajo,  Antofagasta,  Tocopilla, 
Caleto  Buena,  and  Icjuicjue,  where  she  arrived 
at  2  a.m.  on  January  2nd,  1902.  She  left  that 
port  the  same  day,  heading  direct  for  Panama 
without  further  stopfiage  in  order  to  arrive  there 
on  the  loth  of  January  to  make  the  connection 
with  the  Orinoco,  of  the  Royal  Mail  Steam 
Packet  Company,  which  was  due  to  sail  from 
Colon  for  Plymouth  on  the  nth  of  January, 
No    time  was    lost,    therefore,  and  steaming  at 


'  ^ifir^ffjic/\/ 


•Mil.   (AT  IAIN    WAS    IM--ORMKI>   THAT   -IIIK   COI.O.MlllAN    COVKKNMRNT    Ul:(.)U!KKT)   THK    VKSSKI.    AND    MKAM'   TO    1IAVI-:    IIi:U." 


Many  of  the  crew  predicted  that  evil  would 
befall  through  the  vessel  sailing  on  C:hristmas 
Day.  IJule  they  knew,  however,  as  tiie  lights 
of  Valparaiso  faded  away  astern  that  the  good 
ship  would  never  again  plough  through  those 
silent  waters  ! 

Her  passenger-list  was  some  420  odd,  the 
majority  l)eing  Chilian  officers  and  sailors  going 
to   iMigland   {viA  Panama  nnd  Colon)  to  bring 


her  full  jjower  all  the  way  she  reached  j'anama 
at  midday  on  the  9th  of  January. 

'i'he  water  being  very  shallow  in  the  J^ay  of 
l*anama,  shii)s  of  large  tonnage  are  obliged  to 
anchor  some  three  miles  from  the  shore.  The 
Lautarn  accordingly  took  up  her  position  close 
to  Perico  Lslancl,  and  not  far  away  from  the 
American  man-of-war  IViiladelpliia. 

However,   the  day  that    had   been    gained   in 


Till':    SK1ZIN(;    OF    lllK    ••  l.AL  lARO." 


73 


the  voyage  was  not  to  be  taken  advantage  of,  as 
the  rain  was  pouring  in  torrents  and  the  sea 
was  much  too  rough  to  think  of  disembarking 
the  ('hilian  sailors.  It  was  only  at  daybreak 
the  next  morning,  the  loth  of  January,  that 
they  left  the  ship. 

At  about  ten  o'clock  that  same  morning,  after 
all  the  Chilian  officers  and  sailors  were  well  on 
their  way  to  Colon,  General  Carlos  Alban, 
Governor  of  the  Province  of  Panama,  came  on 
board  the  Lautaro,  accompanied  by  several 
officers  of  the  Colombian  army  and  about  a 
dozen  policemen.  He  inquired  for  the  captain. 
Captain  Lace  was  on  shore,  but  a  boat  was 
immediately  sent  to  fetch  him. 

He  arrived  an  hour  later,  and,  to  his  intense 
surprise,  was  calmly  informed  by  General  Alban 
that  the  Colombian  Government  had  taken 
possession  of  the  ship  and  intended  to  put 
soldiers  and  guns  on  board  !  The  captain 
naturally  protested,  but  he  was  politely  informed 
that  the  Colombian  Government  required  the 
vessel  and  meant  to  have  her. 

The  perplexed  captain  thereupon  called  the 
officers  and  engineers  into  his  cabin,  and  told 
them  that  the  ship  liad  been  taken  possession  of 
by  force.  He  advised  everyone  to  stand  by  her 
and  protect  the  interests  of  the  company  until 
some  definite  orders  were  received  from 
\'alparaiso.  "  You  are  at  liberty  to  go  on  shore 
if  you  wish,"  he  said,  "  but  I  would  advise  you 
to  stay  with  the  ship.  I  am  going  to  stop  on 
board  myself." 

'I 'he  officers  and  engineers  unanimously  agreed 
to  stand  by  him,  and  even  to  fight  for  the  shij) 
if  Captain  Lane  thought  such  action  advisable. 

At  two  o'clock  the  captain  went  on  shore  and 
had  a  long  interview  with  the  Chilian  Consul, 
Senor  J.  Ossa.  This  gentleman  told  him  he 
thought  it  best  that  the  whole  crew  should 
come  on  shore,  because,  as  he  rightly  pointed 
out,  if  they  stayed  on  the  ship  without  receiv- 
ing orders  to  do  so  from  the  company  at 
\'alparaiso,  they  were  helping  the  Colombian 
Government  and  taking  the  law  into  their  own 
hands.  He  told  the  captain  that  for  the  time 
being  he  was  powerless  to  help  him.  The  only 
thing  he  could  do  was  to  i)rotest  against  such 
an  outrage  and  cable  to  the  Chilian  Government 
for  help,  which  he  did  immediately.  In  the 
interim,  it  was  agreed  between  Captain  Lace 
and  the  Consul  that  no  one  should  leave  the 
ship  until  an  answer  was  received  from  the 
Chilian  Government.  Then,  if  the  Colombian 
Government  still  persisted  in  keeping  the  vessel, 
everyone  was  to  come  on  shore. 

Meanwhile,  General  Alban  sent  word  to  the 
captain  that  the  Colombian  Government  would 
pay  all  hotel  expenses  for  the  men  who  did  not 

Vol.  X.-35. 


wish  to  stay  on  boanl,  but  offered  them  all 
double  pay  to  stop  on  the  ship.  No  one  would 
accept  these  conditions,  taking  this  ridiculous 
offer  rather  as  an  insult. 

The  anxiously-awaited  rejjly  from  the  Chilian 
Government  to  the  Consul's  cable  came  on  the 
1 2th  of  January.  It  was  addressed  to  the 
Colombian  Government,  and  was  couched  in 
no  uncertain  language.  They  were  ordered  to 
leave  the  vessel  alone,  or  else  there  would  be 
trouble. 

This  strongly-worded  cable  seemed  to  have 
its  effect,  for  that  same  afternoon  General  Alban 
left  the  ship  and  Cajjtain  Lace  again  took  com- 
mand of  her. 

Then  another  difficulty  arose^the  firemen 
went  on  strike  and  demanded  higher  wages, 
refusing  to  work  until  their  terms  were  agreed 
to.  This  (luestion  was  satisfactorily  settled, 
however,  and  orders  were  given  to  get  steam  up 
to  leave  the  next  day. 

The  next  morning  Captain  I  .ace  went  on 
shore  for  his  despatches.  He  had  hardly  left 
the  ship  when  General  Jefferies  (another  officer 
of  the  Colombian  army)  came  on  board,  accom- 
panied by  several  other  officers,  and  informed 
the  chief  ofificer  of  the  Lautaro  that  the 
Colombian  Government  must  and  would  have 
the  vessel.  To  enforce  his  words  about  fifty 
soldiers  armed  with  rifles  came  up  on  deck, 
and  shortly  afterwards  two  small  si.x-pounder 
cannons  and  two  field-guns  on  their  carriages 
were  brought  on  board.  When  Captain  Lace 
came  back  to  his  ship  he  again  found  her  in 
possession  of  the  Colombian  Government. 

Once  more  he  called  his  officers  and  engineers 
into  council  and  informed  them  that  they  could 
please  themselves  as  to  staying  on  board  or 
going  on  shore ;  but  seeing  that  the  Chilian 
Consul  had  advised  them  to  leave  the  ship 
should  the  Colombian  (iovernment  persist  in 
retaining  her,  he  thought  it  best  to  go.  There- 
upon everyone  decided  to  go  on  shore. 

It  was  just  getting  dark  when  they  were 
landed,  with  their  belongings,  in  Panama,  leav- 
ing the  Lautaro  in  the  hands  of  the  Colombian 
Government.  The  captain,  otficers,  and 
engineers  were  sent  to  one  hotel,  and  the  rest 
of  the  crew  to  another. 

Next  day  General  Alban  tried,  by  every  pos- 
sible means,  to  gel  engineers  and  firemen  from 
on  shore  to  work  the  vessel,  but  without  avail. 
It  was  therefore  utterly  impossible  for  him  to 
use  the  shi|)  to  go  in  pursuit  of  the  rebels,  and 
accorilingly.  in  despair,  he  sent  round  an  officer 
to  the  hotels  reiterating  his  offer  to  pay  the 
engineers  and  firemen  double  jjay  if  they  would 
sail  with  him.  He  managed  to  get  one  of  the 
Lautaro's  greasers  to  go  as  third  engineer,  and 


274 


THE    WIDE     WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


one  of  her  firemen  was  promoted  to  the  rank  of 
fourth  engineer.  A  first  and  second  engineer 
were  secured  from  somewhere  else,  and  so  all 
the  vacancies  in  the  engine-room  were  filled. 

On  the  17th  Captain  Lace  received  a  cable 
from  his  company  at  Valparaiso,  asking  him  and 
the  chief  engineer  to  go  on  board  in  the  interests 
of  the  firm.  The  captain  called  the  chief  engi- 
neer, showed  him  the  cablegram,  and  said  that  he 
was  going  on  board  the  Laiitaro  to  stay,  what- 


officers  if  they  would  accompany  him,  l)ut  they 
unanimously  refused,  so  the  next  morning,  in 
obedience  to  his  orders,  the  plucky  captain  went 
back  to  his  ship  alone. 

General  Alban  had  given  orders  that  the  ship 
was  to  sail  the  next  night  for  Toboga  Island,  in 
order  to  get  a  j?upply  of  fresh  water,  but  it  was 
in  vain  that  the  scratch  crew  in  the  engine- 
room  tried  to  make  the  ship  move  —  she 
would    not ;   and    the    services   of  an  engineer 


..1I-.  i./i,\>.i-.i., 


ever  might  happen.  The  engineer,  however, 
refused  to  do  .so,  saying  that  he  did  not  wish  to 
risk  his  life,  as  he  knew  the  Lnidiuo  was  to  be 
fitted  out  to  chase  the  rebel  gunboats. 

Captain      Lace     tiien     asked    each    of    the 


Iron:   another    vessel    had     to     l)c    temporarily 
enlisted. 

At  one  o'clock  in  the  morning  of  the  20th 
the  Lautaro  started,  but  something  again  went 
wrong  with  the  machinery,  and  the  sailing  had 


'mi-:  si:i/.i\(;  oi^    i-ni;  ■•  i..\r  iako." 


-/D 


to  be  postponed  until  daylight,  wlien  the  engines 
could  be  inspected  and  set  right. 

'I'hat  night  the  miscellaneous  Colopibian 
crew  broke  open  the  licjuor-store  and  every  one 
of  them  got  inebriated.  Some  danced,  some 
sang,  and  free  fights  were  the  order  of  the  night, 
the  ship  being  transformed  into  a  regular 
pandemonium. 

The  rebels  were  thoroughly  posted  as  to 
what  had  been  occurring  on  board  the 
Laii/ixro,  and  they  knew  tliat  she  was  to  be 
employed  as  a  Ciovernmcnt  cruiser  for  their 
capture.  All 
night  their  little 
"  fleet  ■'  of  two 
vessels  had  been 
cruising  quietly 
outside  the  bay, 
only  waiting  for 
daylight  to  come 
in  to  surprise 
the  Lautaro, 
and,  if  possible, 
sink  her. 

The  rebel 
squ'adron  con- 
sisted of  the  Pa- 
di/hi,  a  little 
steamer  of  about 
700  tons,  armed 
with  two  ([uick- 
firing  guns  and 
with  a  crew  of 
about  a  hundred, 
and  the  Darieti, 
an  ex-steam-tug 
of  about  fifty 
tons,  carrying 
one  cannon  and 
some  thirty  men. 

The  morning 
of  the  20th 
January  broke 
beautifully  fine. 
The  labourers 
in  Panama  were 
just  about  leav- 
ing their  homes 
on  the  way  to 
their  work  when 
the    two   little 

rebel  ships  came   steaming    into    the    bay,    on 
mischief  l)ent. 

They  managed  to  get  right  alongside  the 
Laiehiro  before  they  were  seen  by  the  men 
whose  duty  it  was  to  watch,  and  who  must 
have  been  soundly  asleep  after  their  night  of 
revelry.  At  last,  however,  the  <lrowsy  Colom- 
bians saw  the  /\idi7/a  and  the  Daricu  coming, 


HER    FIRST   SHOT    WENT    THROUGH    THE  CAITAIN  S  CAUIN. 


and  they  shouted  wildly  that  they  were  going  to 
be  attacked.  The  confusion  on  the  Lnularo 
then  became  indescribable.  Some  of  the 
soldiers,  still  staggering  under  the  influence  of 
li(|uor,  flung  themselves  into  the  sea  and  swam 
for  the  shore  ;  others  stamped  about  the  deck 
like  madmen,  tearing  their  hair  and  crossing 
themselves  in  their  fright.  A  few,  who  had  not 
ciuite  lost  their  heads,  managed  to  run  tlie 
guns  into  position  and  to  prepare  the  decks 
for  action. 

'i'he  Padi/hi,  steaming  on  the  port  side  of  the 

Lati/iiro,  came 
to  within  two 
hundred  yards 
of  her  before 
she  was  fired 
upon.  Then  two 
loud  reports  re- 
V  e  r  b  e  r  a  t  e  d 
through  the 
morning  air.  The 
Lautaro  had 
opened  fire,  and 
the  battle  of 
Panama  Pay  had 
CO  m  m  e  n  c  ed. 
Both  the  shots, 
thanks  to  the 
agitation  of  the 
gunners,  mi.ssed 
the  little  steamer, 
going  right  over 
her  bows.  The 
Padilla  niade  a 
slight  curve,  and 
then,  steaming 
slowly  ahead, 
fired  both  her 
guns  into  the 
Lautaro  as  she 
passed  by.  Her 
first  shot  went 
through  the  cap- 
tain's cabin, 
shatteririg  the 
woodwork  into 
a  t  h  o  u  s  a  n  il 
splinters. 

Captain  I.a<e 
was  in  l>ed  when 
the  projectile  came  tearing  through  his  cabin, 
and  only  escaped  injury  by  a  miracle.  He 
rushed  up  on  to  the  deck,  where  a  scene  of 
wild  confusion  met  his  eyes.  Hardly  was  he 
out  of  his  cabin  than  two  more  shots  from 
the  L\idi//a  burst  therein,  setting  the  ship 
on  fire. 

Meanwhile,  the  Daritn,  on  the  starboard  side 


2~r  .^^ 


/:->^ 


orL  ' 


276 


THE   WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


of  the  Government  ship,  kept  up  a  continual 
fire  with  her  single  cannon,  aiming  always  below 
the  water-line,  whilst  her  crew  raked  the  decks  of 
the  Lauiaro  with  a  deadly  rifle-fire,  to  which 
the  terrified  soldiers  on  board  returned  but  a 
feeble  response. 

The  fort  at  Panama  now  joined  in  the  fray  and 
commenced  hurling  shells  at  the  rebels,  but  the 
shots  fell  wide  of  their  mark  and  did  no  damage 
whatever.  The  rebels  continued  to  fire  into 
the  Government  ship, 
and  men  dropped  fast. 
General  Alban  was  one 
of  the  first  men  to  be 
hit.  He  fell  mortally 
wounded,  and  died 
giving  instructions  for 
another  general  to  be 
put  in  command. 

The  Chncuito^  a  little 
steam  launch  belong- 
ing to  the  Colombian 
Government,  and  under 
the  command  of  Gene- 
ral Jefferies,  now  put 
out  from  Panama  to 
helj)  the  hard-pressed 
Lautaro.  As  soon  as 
the  rebels  saw  her 
coming  they  made  for 
the  oi)en  sea.  They 
had  done  their  work  — 
the  poor  old  Lautaro 
was  sinking  and  would 
never  be  able  to  fight 
them  again. 

\Vhen  the  .soldiers  on 
board  saw  the  rebels 
retreating  and  realized 
that  their  ship  was 
sinking,  a  terriljlc  panic 
ensued.  A  wild  fight 
commenced  for  the  two 
boats  which  were  still 
water-tight,  and  when 
these  were  launched 
the  occupants  made 
for  the  sliorc  with  all 
speed,  leaving  on  the 
burning  ship  many  of 
their  comrades  and  all 
their  woundecF,  fur  by 
this  time  the  La  11  faro's 
decks  resembled  a 
shambles. 

Upon  seeing  the 
plight  of  the  men  left 
behind  on  the  burning 
ship,  the  United  States 


man-of-war  Philadelphia  sent  a  boat  to  bring 
off  the  wounded  and  the  men  who  still  remained 
on  board.  When  the  Chucuito  arrived  along- 
side the  sinking  ship  great  volumes  of  smoke  and 
flame  were  issuing  from  her  forward  quarters, 
and  she  was  settling  down  rajjidly. 

Captain  Lace,  who  had  been  a  horrified 
spectator  of  all  these  stirring  scenes,  jumped 
into  the  sea  as  the  ship  went  down  and  was 
rescued  by  a  boat  shortly  afterwards. 


A    TKRKIIII.K    I'ANIC    ENSUED. 


'IHi:    Si:i/.1\(;    ui-    THE    '-LAUIAkO." 


177 


SEARCHING   FOR   GENERAL    ALBAn's    UODV. — HE    WAS  ONE   OF   THE    FIRST  TO    FALL,    AND   WENT    DOWN    WITH   THE    "lAUTARO.'' 

From  a  Photo. 


About  ten  o'clock  the  stricken  vessel  was 
seen  to  heave  to  starboard  ;  then  she  righted 
herself  for  a  few  moments,  and  finally 
plunged  down  into  the  waters  of  the  bay, 
turning  on  her  side  and  settling  firmly  on  the 
sandy  bottom.  That  was  the  last  of  the 
poor  old  Lautaro.  Her  brief  and  inglorious 
career  as  a  Colombian  warship  had  come  to 
a  disastrous  close  ! 

Besides  General  Alban,  the  Colombians  on 
the  Laiiiaro  lost  three  officers  and  seven  men 
killed  and  seventeen   wounded.     It   was  after- 


wards ascertained  that  the  rebels  had  one  man 
killed  and  fifteen  wounded. 

The  news  of  the  seizure  of  the  Lautaro 
caused  tremendous  excitement  in  Santiago  and 
Valparaiso,  and  the  Admiral  Simpson,  a  Chilian 
man-of-war,  was  ordered  to  proceed  forthwith  to 
Panama.  Before  she  could  start,  however,  a 
humble  apology  arrived  from  the  Colombian 
Ciovernment,  with  a  promise  to  pay  the  value  of 
the  stolen  ship.  And  so  ended  a  remarkable 
international  incident. 


J-rriK  ,ij 


THE    "LALIAKU        Ah  11);     Mil.    liA  1  1  I  1  . 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  BANK5. 

HOW   A    RAILWAY    COMPANY    FOUGHT    A    RIVER. 
By  Day  Allen  Willey. 

The  mighty  Missouri,  like  certain  other  Western  rivers,  has  an  awkward  habit  of  changing  its 
course  at  intervals,  leaving  its  old  bed  quite  dry  and  cutting  a  new  one  through  the  yielding 
soil.  Some  time  ago  it  menaced  the  great  steel  bridge  recently  erected  by  the  Chicago  and 
Alton  Railroad  Company  at  Cambridge,  Mo.,  and  the  engineers  were  at  their  wits'  end  how  to 
check  its  ravages.  Finally,  however,  a  remarkable  campaign  was  initiated  which  resulted  in 
the  complete  defeat  of  the  river  and    the  reclamation  of    a  large  area  of  land. 


OME  very  eccentric  rivers  flow 
ihrough  the  western  part  of  the 
United  States.  They  take  advantage 
of  the  formation  of  the  earth  to  twist 
and  turn  in  all  kinds  of  directions, 
and  cause  the  people  living  along  their  banks 
much  anxiety.  The  great  Missouri,  which  is 
quite  big  enough  to  know  better,  is  one  of  these 
streams — in  fact,  it  is,  perhaps,  the  most  contrary 
of  all.  One  season  may  find  a  portion  of  it 
flowing  between  its  banks  in  a  tolerably  straight 
line.  A  year  later  the  river  decides  to  cut  out 
an  entirely  new  cliannel  for  itself,  and  the 
depression  which  formed  its  original  bed  will 
presently  be  a  mile  or  more  away— a  mere  dusty 
valley,  containing  not  a  droj)  of  water.  This 
sort  of  thing  is  distinctly  inconvenient,  to 
say  the  least  of  it,  to  the  riverside  population. 

One  of  the 
most  dangerous 
characteristics  of 
the  Missouri  and 
other  eccentric 
Western  rivers 
is  their  fondness 
for  eating  away 
their  banks  on 
<jne  side  and 
depositing  the 
material  on  the 
other,  sometimes 
changing  their 
Ijcd  in  this  way 
a  hundred  or 
two  hundred  feet 
in  a  year.  AVhen 
the  currents  thus 
wash  away  the 
banks  large 
trees,  houses, 
and  other  build- 
ings  arc  fre- 
quently     under-        j.,oma\ 


mined  and  fall  into  the  stream.  This  "erosion," 
as  it  is  termed,  is  especially  feared  by  railroad 
companies  whose  tracks  may  cross  the  river,  as 
the  supports  or  foundations  at  either  end  of  a 
bridge  may  be  swept  away  and  the  structure 
collapse,  entailing  the  loss  of  many  thousand 
dollars  and,  perhaps,  valuable  lives. 

The  dwellings  swept  away  by  the  river  are 
usually  mere  wooden-frame  structures  and  do 
not  cost  much  to  replace,  but  with  a  steel  bridge 
half  a  mile  or  so  long  it  will  be  seen  that  the 
capriciousness  of  the  river  is  likely  to  be  very 
costly  to  the  railway  company. 

Some  time  ago  the  Chicago  and  Alton  Rail- 
road Company  decided  to  span  the  Missouri 
River  near  the  village  of  Cambridge,  Mo.,  with 
a  steel  bridge.  The  company's  engineers  made 
an  e.Kamination  of  the  locality  and  found  a  place 


IIIK   WRECK    OI-   THE  l.OVEKNMENT    liKEAKWATER. 


I  /  •//,'/,'. 


THK   i!.\rri.i:  of    iiii:    i;anks. 


279 


where  the  bhiffs  offered  a  site  for  the  necessary 
shore  piers,  but  they  had  to  be  sunk  deep  into 
the  soil  in  order  to  find  a  comparatively  firm 
foundation.  At  the  bridge  site  the  river  seenieti 
to  be  tiuile  well  behaveil.  '1  he  current  forced 
the  stream  in  a  straigiit  line  between  the  banks, 
and  examinations  showed  that  only  a  small 
(juantity  of  earth  had  fallen  into  the  river  even 
at  times  of  flood.  So  the  engineers  considered 
themselves  fortunate  in  finding  a  spot  where  the 
bridge  could  be  erected  apparently  at  the  least 
expense.  Construction  trains  were  dispatched 
to  the  spot  and  orders  given  for  the  great  steel 
trusses  and  girders  on  which  the  trains  were  to 


upper  Missouri.  It  fiUeil  the  stream  more  than 
bank  high,  and  sent  a  roaring,  swirling  torrent 
down  the  watercourse,  flooding  many  miles  of 
the  valky,  itn  luding  the  village  of  ('ambridg<- 
and  its  vicinity.  The  bridge  builders  had  done 
their  duty  well,  for  the  great  steel  bridge  with- 
stood the  shock  of  the  flood  and  none  of  the 
piers  were  washed  away.  In  revenge,  ap- 
l)arently,  for  its  failure  to  destroy  the  bridge  the 
Missouri  executed  a  flank  movement,  as  a 
military  man  would  say,  and  cut  off  a  gtnerous 
stri[)  of  the  bank  on  one  side  dangerou.^ly  close 
to  the  shore  end  of  the  bridge.  Worse  than 
this,  however,   the   flood  left   an    ugly   current 


S^BSUBSSf-"^ 


J-roiH  a\ 


Wl  A;|.Mj     lilt    CKEAT    .MA. 


UKA.SClltS. 


cross  the  waterway.  Boat-loads  of  stone  were 
brought  to  complete  the  piers  in  the  water  and 
those  to  be  erected  under  the  ends  of  the 
structure.  The  company  took  advantage  of 
the  summer,  when  the  water  is  usually  low  in 
the  Mi.ssouri,  to  push  on  the  work,  and,  altliough 
the  task  was  so  extensive  that  it  recpiired  the 
greater  part  of  a  year  to  accomplish,  it  was 
finished  at  last  without  any  serious  mishap  or 
long  delay,  ami  the  chief  engineer  and  his 
assistants  breathed  easier,  f(;r  they  thought  the 
arduous  undertaking  was  completed. 

liut  they  reckoned  without  the  river.  One  of 
those  south-westerly  storms  which  bring  tlown  a 
deluge    of  water   in   a   single   night   visited   the 


behind  after  it  receded,  which  worked  steadily 
away  at  the  place  where  the  lank  had  been 
eaten  out.  The  railroad  men  saw,  to  their 
alarm,  that  something  must  be  done  to  ward  ofT 
these  attacks,  or  else  that  K:ni\  of  the  bridge 
would  be  undermined  and  f.iU  into  the  river,  a 
tangled  mass  of  metal. 

The  chief  engineer  was  telegraphed  lor.  and 
hurried  to  the  scene  from  his  oltice  a  iluni»and 
miles  away.  Me  summoned  hisable.st  assistants 
and  everybody  else  whose  ideas  were  thought  to 
be  of  value,  for  an  order  had  come  from  tlie 
president  of  the  great  system  to  I  eat  t  fT  the 
river  at  any  cost.  All  the  oflicials  carefully 
inspected   the   danger  spot.     Then   they   made 


28o 


THE    WIDE    WORLi)    MAGAZINE. 


Front  a\ 


PULLING   THE    MATS    INTO    POSITION. 


\rhoto 


trips  up  and  down  the  river,  getting  information 
as  to  the  amount  of  water  which  usually  flowed 
through  it,  and  examining  other  places  where  it 
had  conquered  the  land.  In  short,  they  reviewed 
the  situation  thoroughly.  Then  they  held  a 
council  of  war,  which  resulted  in  plans  being 
decided  on  to  wage  war  to  the  bitter  end  with 
their  relentless  enemy.  It  was  literally  a  war — 
a  contest  in  which  the  Missouri  was  only  defeated 
after  a  long  and  hard-fought  struggle,  waged  on 
a  battle-ground 
nearly  two  miles 
long.  The  rail- 
road men  even 
used  water  from 
the  river  itself 
in  attacking  the 
Missouri,  making 
use  of  every 
device  wiiich 
they  could  think 
of  to  win. 

It  is  a  curious 
country,  this 
valley  of  the 
Missouri.  TIkj 
land  f(jr  miles  is 
a  mi.xture  of  red 
lo.ini  and  clay, 
w  h  i  c  h  w  a  t  c  r 
seems  to  melt  as 
the  sun  melts  a 
snow  -  bank.  A 
little  rivulet  will 
force  its  way 
through   the  sur 


in  a  few  days  it  nas  cut  a  crease  perhaps  ten  feet 
deep.  The  soil  seems  to  offer  no  resistance  to 
water,  so  that  even  a  slight  eddy  directed 
against  the  bank  will  steadily  eat  it  out,  some- 
times making  a  sort  of  cave  at  the  water-line, 
and  cutting  farther  and  farther  back  until  the 
earth  above  falls  in  and  dissolves. 

It  was  therefore  useless  for  the  railway  men  to 
think  of  putting  wood  or  stone  on  to  a  substance 
which  was  almost  as  unstable  as  air.     A  strong 


face  so  easily  that        /.,<,«/ «) 


I',  i'  1  "\     i)ii'.  nivi:i;  urni   hk;  sto.nj    . 


I  /  'hoto. 


THE    BATTLE    OF     Till.     HANKS. 


28x 


"breakwater,"  that  tlie  United  States  Ciovern- 
ment  had  placed  near  the  spot  Id  protect 
the  town  uf  ('ambrici^r  from  hciiii;  washed  away 
bodily,  had  been  itself  wrecked,  the  river  even 
making  a  small  channel  inside  it,  as  if  to 
mock  the  puny  works  of  man.  In  fact,  the 
banks  were  so  loose  from  the  continued  on- 
slaught of  the  waters  that  in  places  a  man 
sank  to  his  waist  merely  from  his  own  weight. 

The  railroad  peo|)le  at  last  decided  to  make  a 
bold  move  in  their  attack — to  begin  the  figiit 
right  in  the  river  itself,  by  trying  to  secure  a 
certain  area  of  the  land  then  under  water  and 
reclaim  it.  The  first  thing  they  did  was  to 
send  several  hundred  men  with  knives  and  axes 


near  the  bridge,  and  were  also  to  act  as  barriers 
against  future  attacks  by  the  river.  So  the 
weavers  of  this  strange  carpet  saw  to  it  that 
every  warp  was  <-arefully  fornied,  and  as  fast  as 
one  was  plaited  it  was  further  secured  by  being 
corded  and  bound  with  stout  rope. 

The  mode  of  sinking  the  carpet  was  interest- 
ing. Left  to  itself  it  would  float  on  the  surface, 
on  account  of  the  buoyancy  of  the  willow  twigs, 
so  it  was  necessary  to  ballast  it  with  stone 
before  sinking  it,  however,  the  mat  was  pulled 
tightly  against  the  bank  with  ropes  attached  to 
blocks  and  pulleys,  for  it  would  not  have  done 
to  have  even  a  foot  of  space  intenening  between 
the  artificial  and  natural  embankments.     .After 


i'rotn  a\ 


A    MAI'    IN    I'OSTIUN    BEFOUE    lllE   MAKINU   'JK    THE        JOIM 


il'koto. 


into  a  forest  of  willow  trees  a  few  miles  away. 
I'Vom  tlie  trunks  were  stripjjed  all  the  young 
branches  and  slips,  which  were  then  piled  on 
flat  boats  and  carried  to  the  battlefield.  Mere 
another  force  of  men  began  a  gigantic  weaving 
operation,  making  a  series  of  huge  mats  or 
carjjets  by  interlacing  the  willow  boughs  and 
shoots  in  regular  warps.  These  great  mats  were 
in  some  cases  two  hundred  feet  lonir  and 
nearly  as  wide.  As  fast  as  a  part  of  one  was 
finished  it  was  laid  on  the  bed  of  the  river, 
which  was  found  on  examination  to  be  actually 
harder  than  the  dry  land  of  the  banks. 

These  "car[)ets"  were  designed  to  form  the 
foundation  for  a  new  piece  of  land,  which  was 
to  replace  that    which   had   been   washed  away 

Vol.  .X.-36. 


being  properly  tied,  huge  pieces  of  rock— some 
of  them  brought  over  a  hundred  miles  for  the 
|)urpose  — were  thrown  on  the  matting,  and  in 
this  way  it  was  forced  to  the  bottom.  Then 
came  a  fleet  of  flat  boats  loaded  with  smaller 
stones,  gravel,  and  other  material  for  building  up 
the  new  bank.  This  was  dumped  on  top  of  the 
submerged  mat.  In  some  plaies  where  the 
current  was  strongest  a  second  and  a  third  mat 
were  put  down  between  layers  of  .stone  to  act  as 
a  binder,  where  the  engineers  thought  more 
protection  was  needed.     As  fast  as  c  !>el 

was  laid  the  edge  of  the  next  would  Ll  ...  :  :ied 
to  it,  so  that  all  along  the  bank,  for  a  di.stance  of 
nearly  two  niiles,  a  whole  forest  of  tree  branches 
was  placed. 


!82 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


J'  10 II. ' 


WASHING    UOU.N    liAKlH    SO    AS     ii>    (_U\l:K     I  1 1  li    MAI'S    ANU 


But  the  laying  of  the  mat  was  only  a  part  of 
the  contest.  The  land  at  its  (^nd,  and  against 
which  it  backed,  had  to  he  tightly  fastened  to 
it  in  order  that  the  insidious  tongue  of  the 
Missouri  could  not  lick  away  the  edges  and 
gradually  work  its  way  to  the  back  of  the 
defence.     After  the  rock  and  gravel  had  been 


dumped  in  suffi- 
cient quantities 
to  cover  the  sub- 
merged mats,  a 
"joint"  of  the 
same  material  was 
made  between 
the  natural  and 
artificial  l)anks. 
Here  the  i  n  - 
genious  railroad 
[)eople  took 
advantage  of  the 
river  itself,  pump- 
ing it  up  on  the 
bank,  and  forcing 
it  in  a  powerful 
stream  against  the 
edges  of  the  bank, 
causing  them  to 
crumble  over  the 
edge  in  the  form 
of  mud.  In  other 
words,  the  shore 
was  literally 
washed  away  for 
so  that  it  overla{)ped 
mat.       Upon      this     a 


thousands    of     yards, 

the      edge     of     the 

"  binding  "  was  placed,  consisting  of  masses  of 

rock  and   broken  stone,  which  was   laid   evenly 

with  the  front  sloping  gently  towards  the  river — 

not     unlike    the    design    of    a    fortress    wall. 

For    hundreds    of    feet    at    bends    and    other 


LO'.  I.I;J.M.     I  illO    MA  Is    Willi    A    lALIM.    HI       I 


J '/into. 


THic    iiAri'i,!':   OK  nil,    hanks. 


jR-> 


places  in  the  stream  where  the  current  is 
strongest  tliis  stone  rexelnient,  as  it  is  called,  is 
eight  and  ten  feet  thick.  Helow  it  is  seven  or 
eiglit  feet  of  earth,  while  inulernealh  there  may 
be  as  many  as  three  layers  of  the  willow  mattini.;, 
each  supporting  a  tier  of  rock  and  stone. 
Altot',ether  it  forms  a  defence  which  seems 
almost  impregnable,  even  when  exposed  to  the 
attacks  of  the  mightiest  flood  which  may  sweep 
down  the  valley  of  the  Missouri. 

Strange  to  say,  loose  as  are  the  warps,  this 
apparently  flimsy  structure  makes  a  barrier 
through  which  the  water  cannot  force  itself  into 
the  soft   material   below  with  enough  force  to 


missiles  into  tiie  water.  As  already  M.ileU,  the 
revetment  is  nearly  two  miles  long,  and  in  suinc 
places  ranges  back  several  hundred  feet  from 
the  water  edge  of  the  mats.  The  space  which 
has  thus  been  taken  bodily  from  the  waler»vay 
would  be  large  enough  for  the  site  of  a  big 
village,  and  a  part  of  it  will  probably  be  turned 
into  farm  land,  principally  cornfields,  as  the  roots 
of  the  plant  assist  in  binding  the  eartii  together 
at  the  top  where  the  stone  does  not  cover  it. 

It  is  a  notable  feat  thus  to  hem  in  a  river 
which  is  nearly  a  mile  wide  at  ordinary  tinies, 
and  often  several  miles  wide  when  in  flood. 
Many  times  the  railroad  people  were  compelled 


!■  luin  u\ 


liii,     L,ui..\T^\\  .\\^\\    COMlLbli:.- 


cause  damage.  Nothing  but  a  great  flood  with 
sufficient  power  to  lift  up  the  entire  contrivance 
and  carry  it  bodily  away  can  affect  it.  Now, 
therefore,  the  mighty  Missouri  beats  harmlessly 
against  its  artificial  bank,  concjuered  by  the  skill 
and  ingenuity  of  the  engineers. 

In  tliis  strange  fight  with  the  river  nearly  a 
thou.sand  men  were  employed  at  various  times, 
some  cutting  the  willows,  others  weaving  them, 
some  (juarrying  stone,  while  a  regiment  loaded 
the  stone-boats  and  dumped  their  contents  into 
the  river.  Over  a  hundred  men  truiulled  the 
wheelbarrows,  which  formed,  so  to  speak,  the 
artillery  of  the   army  discharging   their  weighty 


to  cease  operations  when  liic  stream  .siiow^u  Ii^ 
enmity  by  rising  several  feet  in  a  single  niglil. 
Then  whole  strips  of  partly  laid  mat  would 
be  torn  away  and  hurled  tlown  stream  or 
against  the  bank,  a  tangled  mass  of  wreckage. 
but  patience  anil  perseverance,  it  is  said, 
conquer  all  things,  and  victory  finally  cro\yncd 
the  efTorts  of  the  railroad  men.  ->••■'  tinies 
since  the  embankment   has  beiii  ■  eil  the 

baffled  Missouri  has  dashed  its  highest  flood- 
waves  against  it.  but  without  -  V  to 
the  skilful  way  in  which  this  v,  ure 
of  wood,  rock,  and  earth  has  been  literally 
woven  into  the  river's  bank. 


Showing    how  the    romantic  young    steward    of    an    English    steamship    smuggled    contraband 

goods   in  order   to  win  the  love  of  a  Spanish  beauty,   and   how  an   unkind   Fate  -in  the   shape 

of  a  mischievous  set  of  officers — played  havoc  with  his  schemes. 


UBBARD  was  our  steward;  he  also 
cooked  for  the  officers  and  engineers, 
and  he  was  not  a  bad  cook  either, 
as  seafaring  "doctors"  go.  He 
hailed  from  a  northern  county,  and 
possessed  quite  a  remarkable  fondness  for 
feminine  beauty.  His  was  a  romantic  tempera- 
ment. 

One  day  our  steamer,  the  Fkehvuig,  had 
anchored  off  the  port  of  (Jijon,  in  the  north  of 
Spain.  Hubbard  was,  as  I  have  said,  caterer  to 
the  officers  and  engineers,  and  as  he  was  in  need 
of  some  provisions  the  captain  (who  knew  his 
steward's  weaknesses  and  never  missed  an 
opportunity  of  having  fun  at  his  expense)  told 
him  where  he  could  best  obtain  what  he  wanted 
in  the  town.  He  told  him,  furthermore,  that  he 
wcjuld  easily  know  the  sliop  by  the  wonderful 
beauty  who  presided  behind  the  counter. 

There  went  Hubbard.  It  was  a  corner  store 
near  the  market-place.  As  he  ap|)roa(:hed  the 
doorway  he  saw  a  really  handsome  brunette  of 
about  eighteen  years  standing  on  the  threshold. 
Quite  abruptly  he  halted,  his  gaze  fastened  on 
her  adnuringly. 

She  saw  him  and  noted  the  admiration  written 


on  his  face.  Then  she  went  inside.  Plubbard 
followed  her  in,  somewhat  dazed  and  nervous, 
it  is  true,  but  nevertheless  certain  that  he  had 
come  to  the  right  i)lace,  for  there  could  not 
possibly  be  in  all  sunny  S{)ain  another  such  face 
and  figure. 

The  girl  could  si)eak  enougli  English  to  be 
understood ;  a  fact,  coupled  to  her  ])ersonal 
charms,  that  gained  her  parents  the  custom  of 
all  the  IJrilishers  calling  at  the  port.  To  her 
Hubbard  was  a  new  customer,  seemingly  with 
plenty  of  money.  As  she  served  him  she  talked, 
her  eyes  on  him  and  her  niiiul  dh  lousiness  ; 
and  Hubbard  swore  he  had  never  henrd  any- 
thing half  so  sweet  as  her  broken  I'higlish.  In 
ten  minutes'  time  he  was  ready  to  storm  Madrid 
for  her  sjike,  and  had  learnt  more  about  excis- 
able articles  -esiK'cially  edible  ones — in  the 
land  of  the  I  )ons  than  he  had  ever  expected 
to  know  in  a  lifetime.  For  the  first  time  he 
became  aware  that  imported  foodstuffs,  ready 
prepared,  are  in  some  cases  so  heavily  taxed 
in  Spain  that  they  become  delicacies  sim[)ly 
because  of  their  cost. 

Whilst  having  his  wants  supplied  by  the 
siren  of  the  counter    the   steward  spied  a  tin 


WHAT    ii.\1'I'i:ni:i)    lo   iuiujakd. 


J85 


labelled  "  Herrings  in  crab  sauce."  It  was 
British,  and  at  home  would  |)rol)ahly  cost 
something  under  a  shilling.  Hubbard  asked 
for  a  tin  (he  must  lengthen  the  interview  by 
fair  means  or  foul)  and  afterwards  intjuired  the 
price,  as  an  immaterial  detail.  In  the  act  of 
adding  its  cost  to  his  bill  she  told  him  that  the 
price  was  five  pesetas — about  3s.  8d.  !  He  was 
inwardly  staggered.  I'ut,  then,  he  had  to  sustain 
an  Englishman's  reputation  for  wealth.  Besides, 
one  cannot  e.xpect  a  goddess's  tuition  without 
paying  a  sort  of  celestial  price  for  it. 

Now,  from  the  parochial  bloater  and  the 
equally  humble  crab  to  love  -  making  and 
romance  may  seem  a  very  far  cry.  Yet  it  was 
from  tliat  fishy  starting-jjoint  that  Hubbard  was 
really  caught  up  into  the  silken  toils  of  this 
divine  purveyor  of  groceries.  Pretending  that 
he  needed  this,  that,  and  the  other  article, 
Hubbard  threw  discretion  to  the  winds  and 
bought  without  discrimination.  He  had  fallen 
iiead  over  heels  in  love  with  the  little  Spanish 
girl  and  went  away  most  reluctantly,  his  head 
ringing  witli  the  subtly-conveyed  information 
that  the  man  who  would  circumvent  her 
country's  Customs  for  her  sake  to  some  appre- 
ciable extent  would,  indeed,  be  a  gallant  after 
her  own  heart.  He  had  spent  quite  two  i)ounds 
on  unnecessary  things,  for  which  he  would 
never  be  repaid  —certainly  not  out  of  the  money 
allowed  him  per  head  by  those  for  whom  he 
catered. 

During  the  following  week  the  officers  and 
engineers  of  the  J'lectiving  wondered  why  on 
earth,  or  in  harbour,  their  tea-table  menus  were 
so  varied.  Hubbard  had  always  been  a  bit  of 
a  mystery  to  them,  but  now  they  began  to  think 
him  something  else.  His  manner  became  so 
preoccupied  that  the  old  chief  officer  several 
times  asked  Captain  .Spyke  if  he  did  not  think 
their  steward  was  a  little  touched.  The 
captain  smiled  knowingly,  winked  his  dexter 
eye,  and  said,  "  Wait."  He  was  aware  of 
Hubbard's  daily  visits  to  the  beauty  of  the 
counter,  and  was  watching  the  development  of 
the  little  romance  with  interest. 

The  F/ee/'iviiii:;  was  making  the  first  of  a  series 
of  visits  to(iijon,  and  her  steward  was  sorely 
troubled  how  best  to  turn  each  voyage  into  a 
successful  smuggling  "  run  " — for  to  cheat  the 
Spanish  Customs  authorities  and  win  his  divinity 
he  was  determined. 

True  enough,  on  the  return  voyage  he  squeezed 
through  the  Customs  hands  with  ([uite  a  dis- 
respectable  heap  of  contraband  edibles.  This 
success  he  owed  to  the  Flcehving's  age  and  to  the 
idiosyncrasies  of  her  designer,  her  cabin  being 
fitted  with  several  curious  and  unsuspected 
lockers,  wherein  he  hid  such  humble  delicacies 


as  herrings  in  different  sauces,  golden  syrup, 
bloater-paste,  tinned  rabbit,  and  coiuicnscd  milk. 
These  he  slowly  removed  to  the  bhorc,  one  or 
two  articles  at  a  time,  making  presents  of  them 
to  the  brunette  the  solid  tins  representing  the 
gloves,  flowers,  and  sweets  of  his  tender  passion. 
And  she  received  them,  graciously  pleased  at 
the  offerings,  and  at  once  —practical  girl  !~put 
them  on  sale,  sometimes  making  him  return 
gifts  of  fresh  vegetables,  wine,  and  fruit. 

On  the  second  voyage  to  Spain  Hubbard 
was  just  as  lucky.  But  the  third  one  jiroved  his 
ruin  with  the  beauty,  at  least.  And  it  was 
well  for  him  that  the  end  came  so  soon,  or  he 
would  have  been  beggared  comj)letely. 

The  catastrophe  was  brought  about  by  Captain 
Spyke.  Towards  the  end  of  Hubbard's  second 
big  venture  the  "  old  man  " — who  had  been 
making  some  pretty  obvious  deductions—made 
a  secret  survey  of  the  half-forgotten  lockers  in 
the  cabin.  This  was  after  seeing  his  steward  go 
twice  that  day  into  the  grocery  store,  each  time 
with  a  suspicious-looking  parcel.  r)ur  old  .sea- 
dog  there  and  then  stumbled  on  the  truth.  It 
was  merely  a  case  of  one  cripple  detecting 
another  cripple's  halting  step,  a  thief  catching  a 
thief.  However,  there  were  not  enough  contra- 
band goods  left  to  cause  him  any  worry,  and  he 
determined  he  would  see  to  it  that  the  next 
"  run "  should  teach  his  smuggling  steward  a 
lesson. 

As  to  the  proper  oflicials  taking  the  latter 
with  his  last  parcel,  there  was  plenty  of  chance 
but  little  likelihood.  For  the  chief  characteristic 
of  Spanish  preventive  officers  is  their  almost 
wonderful  ability  to  keep  seemingly  awake  and 
yet  see  nothing. 

To  make  a  success  of  his  scheme  Captain 
Spyke  had  to  take  his  officers  and  engineers 
into  his  confidence,  and  this  he  accordingly  did. 
\\'hilst  outward  bound  from  Cardifl'to  Cijon  on 
their  next  voyage  the  engineers  surreptitiously 
took  Hubbard's  tinned  goods,  one  article  at  a 
time,  into  the  engine-room.  There  the  cans 
were  carefully  openetl,  their  contents  being 
replaced  by  foul-smelling  bilge-water,  old  bones 
closely  packed,  bad  onions  in  tar-water,  or  any 
other  malodorous  rubbish  that  came  handy. 
Then  the  cans  were  neatly  soldered  u|)  so  that 
Hubbard  should  not  detect  the  trick  played 
on  him.  Of  his  tinned  delicacies,  of  course, 
private  ban(|uets  were  made. 

On  arrival  of  the  ship  at  Gijon  the  unsuspect- 
ing steward  began  once  more  to  carry  ashore 
the  material  little  declarations  of  his  passion. 
By  this  time  he  and  Scnorita  Caslra  were  on 
terms  of  familiarity.  Once,  when  taking  his 
last  leave  during  the  previous  visit,  he  had 
gone  the  length  of  snatching  a  tremulous  kiss 


286 


THE    WIDE    WORED    MAGAZINE. 


m 


SNATCHING    A    TREMULOUS   KISS    AT   THE    HACK    <)1-     IIKK    HAND, 


at  the  back  of  her  hand — the  orthodox  thing 
to  do  according  to  his  scliool  of  ethics. 
Nor  had  she  frowned  him  down  at  the  action 
—  a  ricli  flow  of  colour  o\er  her  warn)  com- 
plexion and  a  repaying  smile  had  been  his 
reward.  15ut  then  a  lover  who  always  went  full- 
handed — at  some  risk  to  himself  and  certain  cost 
to  Iiis  pocket — with  things  that  pleased  the 
palate  and  fed  the  till  should  not  be  snubbed 
when  he  offered  a  little  extra  attention.  On 
this  occasion  she  received  him  with  true 
Spanish  warmth,  saying  that  she  had  sold  every 
one  of  his  former  offerings,  and  that  amongst 
local  people  of  means  her  father's  shop  was 
gaining  quite  a  reputation  for  English  deli- 
cacies. Besides,  he  had  now  arrived  just  in 
the  nick  of  time.  .She  was  having  a  birthday 
party  that  evening,  and  some  of  his  tinned 
niceties  would  be  highly  relished  by  her  guests. 
Whereat  he  covertly  gathered  the  blushing 
information  that  there  would  be  no  special 
senor  present,  which  was  accompanied  by  an 
invitation,  ([uickly  accepted,  to  be  there  himself. 
For  that  i)articular  reason  he  made  another 
smuggling  journey  during  the  afternoon,  and 
put  in  an  appearance  at  the  appointed  hour 
with  a  tliird  consignment  of  contraband  edibles. 
As  the  details  (jf  a  Spanish  birthday  gathering 
are  not  neccs.sary  to  this  narrative,  I  will  ])ass 
on  to  the  dhioneinent,  which  came  earlier,  in  a 
different    way,    and    with    even    more    dramatic 


effects  than  the  cunning  Captain 
Spyke  had  anticipated.  His 
object  and  expectations  had 
been  to  get  the  young  smuggler 
into  disgrace  and  obtain  him 
his  coiit^i'  through  some  of  the 
"  doctored  "  tins  being  sold  to 
customers  who  would  indig- 
nantly complain  of  their  weird 
contents.  1  or  the  very  quantity 
of  the  goods  Hubbard  was 
smuggling,  combined  with  his 
own  long-since-past  experiences 
with  the  pretty  daughters  of 
Spanish  tradesmen,  had  led  the 
skipper  direct  to  a  right  con- 
clusion as  to  the  general  trend 
of  things.  But  instead  of  the 
upshot  coming  as  the  "old 
man  "  thought  it  would,  it  occur- 
red at  the  supper  table,  when 
Hubbard  ai)propriately  cap[)ed 
his  gifts  by  offering  his  services 
in  opening  the  tins. 

At  that  moment  he  was  the 
object  of  all  eyes.  The  young 
men  looked  at  him  as  a  matter 
of  course— some  of  them  not 
over  favourably- -for  he  was  in  the  special  favour 
of  their  hostess  and  therefore  a  rival.  To  the 
ladies,  a  different  nationality  and  a  certain 
amount  of  good  looks  made  him  a  decided 
attraction.  Then,  again,  his  occupation  was  of 
general  interest  to  the  whole  company,  for  all 
they  knew  of  these  costly  tinned  delicacies  was 
seeing  them  here  and  there  in  the  shop.  Hub- 
bard knew  all  this.  In  fad,  he  had  prepared  for 
it  by  carrying  a  tin-opener  in  his  j)ocket, 
and  he  had  looked  forward  to  this  as  the 
great  psychological  moment  of  the  evening.  If 
he  could  not  join  in  Si)anish  conversation, 
dances,  and  games,  he  could  and  would  show 
his  utility  in  laying  bare  the  delicious  viands 
provided  by  his  money,  daring,  and  ingenuity — 
although,  of  course,  no  one  but  the  Castras 
knew  that  no  duty  had  been  paid  on  the  edibles. 
As  the  steward  rai.sed  the  opener  to  give  the 
initial  blow  at  the  can  held  in  his  other  hand, 
there  was  an  air  of  suppressed  expectancy 
about  the  room.  Not  that  Hubbard  posed  in 
the  operation,  although  he  knew  that  all  eyes 
were  upon  him. 

'i'he  spike  of  the  opener  fell  sharply  on  the 
can  ;  then  he  inserted  the  blade  and  began  to 
cut  the  tin  in  tjuite  a  professional  manner. 
Sehorita  ('astra  stood  close  by  him,  open 
admiration   in   her  eyes. 

AVhen  he  was  about  half-way  through  his  task 
a    slight     odour    made    its    offensive     {iresence 


WHAT   haim'i;ni:i)  to   hldijard. 


rS7 


mnnifest  in  the  room.  Regardless  of  this  he 
worked  on,  al)Sorbcd  in  his  occupation.  lUit 
when  he  raised  tlie  severed  lid  he  abruptly  stood 
back  a  pace,  profoundly  aware  of  whence  the 
stench  came  and  fully  cognizant  of  its  in- 
creasing volume.  The  l)runctte  moved  likewise 
in  another  direction,  a  handkerchief  about  her 
nose,  surprise  on  her  face,  and  wordless  questions 
flashing  from  those  fine  eyes  of  hers. 

Instead  of  herrings  in  tomato  .sauce  the  can 
displayed  some  half-picked  bones  in  ship's  pea- 
soup — which  is  not  such  soup  as  restaurateurs 
know. 

Hubbard's  features  were  rigid  with  conster- 
nation. The  countenances  of  the  others  showed 
a  mixture  of  wonderment,  annoyance,  and 
doubt.  The  steward  made  a  dash  at  the  tin 
and  gave  its  contents  a 
severe  examination,  half- 
disbelieving  his  senses  the 
while.  He  could  not 
understand  this  strange 
happening,  he  said.  Feel- 
ing that  he  must  do  some- 
thing to  break  the  awkward 
silence  and  give  a  new 
current  to  the  trend  of 
things,  he  surpassed  him- 
self in  a  desperate  attempt 
at  a  witticism  that  set 
his  inamorata,  and 
some  others  who 
understood  it,  rip- 
pling with  laughter. 
Under  cover  of  this 
he  commenced  opera- 
tions on  another  tin, 
which  proved  to  be 
the  repository  o/ 
bilge-water  and  pieces 
of  coal  in  place  of  its 
original  salmon. 

The  proceedings 
became  more  and 
more    interesting    as 

the  moments  flew  by.  Tin  after  tin  was 
opened  quickly,  each  one  disclosing  some- 
thing unpleasant.  As  the.se  operations  pro- 
gressed, threatening  looks  began  to  be  fixed 
on  the  unconscious  Hubbard  by  the  gentlemen 
present.  Would-be  suitors  for  the  hand — and 
grocery  prospects— of  Senorita  Castra  began  to 
look  on  the  I'^nglishman  as  the  brazen  perpe- 
trator of  an  unpardonable  joke  upon  themselves. 
In  a  short  time  this  clique  and  their  partisans 
gathered  about  him.  The  aspect  of  the  case 
was  speedily  and  decidedly  becoming  black. 
This  Senorita  Castra  saw,  and  endeavoured  to 
counteract  by   becoming  poor  Hubbard's  medi- 


ator to  the  extent  of  avowing  her  belief  that  he  had 
i)een  duped  in  the  matter  of  the  tins.  But  a:! 
intercession  was  not  enough  to  save  him  ; 
being  hurried  and  hustled  out  of  the  l^ 
by  the  indignant  .Spaniards.  Had  it  not  been 
for  the  elders'  influence,  allied  to  Senorita 
Castra's,  Hubbard  would  most  likely  have  fared 
ill  indeed  on  his  way  aboard.  Thither  the  poor 
steward  went  at  once,  determined  to  recover 
his  lost  ground.  A  bright  idea  had  dawned 
on  him.  He  would  be  avenged,  amply  avenged, 
and  that  at  once.  He  would  gather  up  every 
good  tin  of  British  and  American  edibles 
aboard,  and  go  straight  back  with  them  to 
the  Castras'  supper  table.  There  was  no  time 
to  lose  if  he  meant  to  be  soon  enough  to  add  his 
share  to  the  natal  feast.     This  he  was  resolved  to 


BEING    MURRIEU    AND    IIUSI  LED   OUT   OP   THE    HOUSE  BV   THE    I.S'DIGNANT   SI'ANIARDS.  " 

do,  even  though  all  the  Customs  officers  in  Spain 
stood  ready  to  bar  his  way.  It  is  w(tnderful 
what  moral  and  physical  strength  love  puis 
into  some  men — and  what  foolishness. 

Within  three  minutes  Hubbard  had  ransacked 
the  Fleet-win::^ $  pantry  aiul  "  '  ckers  until 
there  was  not  a  tin  of  comi  <-ft.      K\ery 

one  of  them  stood  there  before  him  on  the 
pantry  table— all  grouped  in  one  little  • 
squad.  What  if  the  cabin  table  did  go  ..  ;.  i 
preserved  dainties  ?  He  cared  not  a  jot  for  such 
a  trifling  matter.  Those  wonderful  eyes  should 
look  lovingly  at  him  yet.  He  would  put  fear 
and  skurrv  and  consternation  into  the  hearts  of 


288 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


those  black-browed  suitors  who  had  thrust  him 
so  ignominiously  forth — yes,  by  his  troth  he 
would !  They  should  learn  that  when  an 
English  lover  means  to  win  he  just  wins,  and 
there's  an  end  of  it. 

He  reviewed  his  metallic  allies  singly-  There 
were  bloater-paste  to  spread  on  her  bread,  golden 
syrup  to  make  her  cake  sweeter,  a  half  tin  of 
condensed  milk  to  whiten  her  tea,  herrings  in 
tomato  sauce  to  put  her  friends  into  a  better 
humour,  tinned  tongue  for  the  epicures  of  the 
party,  sardines  and 
oysters  to  regain  her 
parents'  affections, 
and  several  other 
comestibles  which 
could  be  eaten  or 
put  on  sale.  Stay  ! 
That  afternoon  he 
had  let  those  un- 
appreciative  engine- 
greasers  —  euphoni- 
ously termed  engi- 
neers— have  a  tin  of 
lobster  for  their  sup- 
pers. They  were  on 
shore.  He  would 
fetch  it  away  and  let 
them  think  that 
some  thieving  stoker 
or  A.B.  had  walked 
off  with  the  tin. 
Out  of  the  pantry 
he  went  and  for- 
ward to  the  en- 
gineers' mess-room. 

The  instant  he 
was  gone,  out  into 
the  pantry  stepped 
Captain  Spyke,  who 
had  been  watching 
him  through  a  port- 
hole opening  on  to 
the    dark   deck. 

Half- guessing  for  whom  those  ship's  stores 
were  meant,  tlie  skip[)er  quickly  changed  them 
for  the  "doctored"  canisters  still  left  in 
the  secret  lockers,  and  was  again  in  hiding 
when  Hubbard  returned  with  a  wry  face.  The 
engineers  had  already  supped— the  too-eager 
^ourtnets.  However,  he  would  hurry  off  back 
to  the  revellers  with  what  he  had,  and  at 
once  tumbled  the  tins  into  a  bag.  He  took  the 
opened  one  of  condensed  milk  in  his  hand, 
wrapped  in  paper— for  the  wily  Captain  Spyke 
had  seen  the  wisdom  of  not  changing  that  - 
and  hastened  asliore. 


Scarcely  had  he  gone  when  the  "old  man" 
followed  him,  and  sent  two  half-asleep  Customs 
officers,  who  happened  to  be  handy,  in  his 
wake.  The  captain  thought  that  now  was  the 
proper  opportunity  to  give  his  smuggling 
steward  the  tail  -  end  of  his  lesson— a 
fright  that  would  cost  him  nothing  more. 
Ten  minutes  later  Hubbard  found  himself 
seized  as  he  walked  along  the  street,  and 
presently  he  and  his  bag  were  prisoners  in 
the     hut     of     his     two     captors.        On     the 


HUmiAUD    FOUND    HIMSELF    SEIZED   AS    HE   WALKED   ALONG  THE  STRF.ET. 


following  day  he  was  haled  before  an 
alcade  as  a  foreign  smuggler  (jf  a  for- 
midable kind.  To  prove  his  crime  the  tins 
were  opened — the  extraordinary  nature  of  their 
conlcnls  causing  intense  surprise  to  everyone 
present  except  Captain  S[)yke.  Innumerable 
questions  were  asked  and  answered  in  a  manner 
that  gave  no  key  to  the  mystery.  l''innlly,  the 
myslilied  Hubi)ard  was  set  at  liberty,  cjuili.'  cured, 
for  the  time  at  least,  of  his  desire  to  smuggle  in 
the  interests  of  love  and  beauty.  But  many 
days  passed  before  he  quite  understood  what 
happened  to  that  last  lot  of  tinned  goods. 


;/7^M:vii^  tjc\i'iu ')  u 


The  famous  African  hunter  here  relates  his  experiences  in  a  new  field— the  little-known  interior  of 

Newfoundland— whither  he  journeyed  to  shoot  caribou  deer.     Mr.  Selous  met  with  splendid  sport  ; 

and  he  illustrates  his  narrative  with  some  very  striking  photographs. 


I. 


I.ANDI'vD  in  Newfoundland  early 
on  the  morning  of  October  26th, 
1900,  and  started  at  once  to  Howley 
Station,  where,  a  telegram  had  in- 
formed me,  I  would  find  my  guide 

and  cani[)  equipment  awaiting  me.    The  journey 

by    rail    from     Port-aux- 

Basques  to  Howley  occu- 
pied nine  hours,  but  the 

time    passed   quickly,    as 

the  country  we  travelled 

through  was  always  wild 

and    interesting.       Much 

of     the     ground     was 

covered  with  dense  forests 

of    spruce    and    juni[Hr, 

but    the   individual   trees 

in    these    wooded    tracts 

looked    very    small    and 

slight  in  comj)arison  with 

the  giant  timber  amongst 

whose   tall   and    massive 

stems  I   had  lately  been 

hunting     moose     in 

Canada. 

I  must  confess  that  all 

I  heard  and  saw  concern- 
ing carit)ou  shooting    on 

the  evening  of  my  arrival 

at  Howley  impressed  me 

most    unfavourablv,    and 

all   I  subsecjuently  saw  of 

shooting    these     animals 

from     ambushes     during 

their     annual     migration 

across    the    railway   line 

confirmed    my   low   esti- 


■MK.    K.    C.    SELUUS,    IN   THE     HfMINti   CuMOMt   Hfc    ttoKt    l.N 
NEWFOUNDLAND. 


mation  of  the  attractions  of  this  form  of  big- 
game  killing. 

As  I  ste[)ped  from  the  train  I  saw  that  iliere 
were  several  carcasses  of  freshly-killed  caribou 
lying  on  the  platform  of  the  little  railway  station. 
These  were  all   does  and   fawns,  whirli    I    was 

subsequently  informed 
had  been  killed  that  day 
whilst  crossing  the  line 
quite  close  to  the  station. 
In  addition  to  these 
entire  carcasses  there  were 
several  heads,  skins,  and 
haunches  of  stags,  but 
not  a  good  or  even  a 
moderate  head  amongst 
them.  Seeing  me  exami- 
ning these  trophies  of 
the  chase,  my  guide,  who 
had  introduced  himself 
to  me  as  soon  as  I  stepped 
from  the  train,  remarked, 
jovially  :  *'  Ah  '.  You've 
come  to  the  slaughter- 
house now  !  What  a  pity 
you  weren't  here  yester- 
day ;  the  detr  were  cross- 
ing the  line  all  day,  and 
everyone  got  lots  of 
shuts  ;  it  was  just  as  if  a 
baltlewas going  on!"  The 
victims  of  this  exhilarating 
lusillade,  h< 
td  to  have  — 
does  and 
amongst  tl 
nonr  '     ' 


fawns,    and 


rroiii  a  P/tolii.  by  Maull  &•  Fox. 

Since  this  article  was  written  the  Game  Law*   of  Newfoundlaml   have  been   very    i 
obtained,  costing  eJKlity  dollars,    cntillirin   the  holder  to  slioot   live   carihou  siac*  and  t" 
hundred  dollars,  and  the  pum';er  of  stags  that  may  he  sli       ' 
durint:  September  and  November,  the  whole  of  October  lici' 

ai;ain>t   the  inhabitanl^  of  the  island  a>  well  as  ajjainst    t:..; •■  .,■■■-■  ■■■       ,  ,  .    ^..  i     .  ,  ,i  _ 

when  on   their  .lutumn  migration  from  the  northern  parts  of  Newfoundland  10  iheir  winter  leeu.ng  «.v«i..«  ...  U.c 
railway  line  which  intersects  the  island  wiih-nt   cii..!c^i.ition. 

Vol.  X.-37. 


290 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


In  the  evening  I  took  a  walk  along  the  railway 
line  with  my  guide,  and  learned  from  him  all  I 
could  about  caribou  and  the  way  in  which  they 
were  usually  shot  at  this  season  of  the  year. 
Great  numbers  of  caribou,  I  was  informed — but 
by  no  means  all,  as  I  subsequently  discovered — 
spend  the  summer  months  in  the  northern  part 
of  Newfoundland  and  winter  in  the  south 
of  the  island.  There  are  thus  two  annual 
migrations:  in  the  early  spring  from  the 
south  to  the  north,  and  in  the  autumn  — 
during  September  and  October — from  north  to 
south  ;  and  as  the  railway  traverses  the  whole 
island  from  east  to  west  every  caribou  which 
migrates  is  bound  to  cross  the  line  twice  a  year. 
On  migration  certain  lines  of  country  are 
annually  followed,  through  which  well-defined 
paths  are  made.  These  deer  paths  are  known 
in  Newfoundland  as  "leads,"  and  during  the 
autumn  migration  the  usual  method  of  securing 
caribou  is  by  watching  a  "lead"  and  shooting 
the  animals  from  an  ambush  as  they  pass.  In 
some  cases  the  watcher  is  able  to  command 
a  view  of  several  "  leads,"  and  from  time  to 
time  a  rapid  change  of  position  may  be 
necessary  to  cut  off  deer  coming  along  a 
trail  out  of  shot  of  the  central  ambuscade  ; 
but  the  common  practice  is  to  sit  and  watch  all 
day  long,  and  day  after  day,  from  one  spot,  and 
during  this  time  to  do  no  walking  at  all  except 
to  and  from  the  camp  on  the  railway  line.  In 
watching  for  caribou  the  direction  of  the  wind 
must,  of  course,  be  studied,  as  the  sense  of 
smell  is  well  developed  in  these  animals,  and 
they  will  at  once  take  alarm  on  scenting  a 
human  being ;  but  when  on  migration  they 
travel  straight  ahead,  and  in  the  autumn  often 
come  right  down  the  wind  ;  at  such  times  they 
must  trust  to  their  eyes  alone  to  give  them 
notice  of  dangers  ahead.  Their  eyesight  is  not 
nearly  so  quick  as  that  of  most  wild  animals,  and 
unless  they  had  just  been  shot  at  they  always 
appeared  to  me  to  be  absolutely  unconscious 
that  they  were  running  any  risk  of  encounter- 
ing a  lurking  enemy  on  their  line  of  march. 
I  attribute  this  want  of  alertness—so  very 
differenl  to  the  constant  watchfulness  displayed 
by  African  antelopes,  for  instance — to  the  fact 
tl)at  in  Newfoundland  there  are  practically  no 
carnivorous  animals  which  habitually  prey  on 
the  caribou.  There  are  a  few  wolves,  it  is  true, 
but  these  fierce  and  formidable  creatures  a[)pear 
to  be  extremely  scarce  and,  singularly  enough, 
do  not  increase  in  numbers,  whilst  lynxes, 
although  they  are  now  numerous  in  Newfound- 
land, have  only  recently  established  themselves 
on  the  island,  and  are  said  to  be  tlie  descen- 
dants of  a  few  enterj)rising  individuals  which 
during   a   severe  winter  crossed   the   straits    of 


Belle  Isle  on  the  ice  from  the  neighbouring  coast 
of  Labrador.  These  lynxes,  however,  although 
they  may  occasionally  catch  and  kill  a  caribou 
fawn,  are  believed  to  live  almost  entirelvon  hares 
and  willow  grouse.  The  American  black  bear  is 
also  found  in  Newfoundland,  but  lives  principally 
on  berries,  and,  although  he  will  eat  the  meat  of 
a  deer  which  he  may  find  lying  dead,  is  said 
never  to  kill  one  of  these  animals  himself. 
Thus,  unlike  the  African  antelope,  which,  even 
in  uninhabited  districts,  must  be  constantly  on 
the  watch  against  the  stealthy  approach  of  lions, 
leopards,  cheetahs,  and  wild  dogs,  the  caribou 
of  Newfoundland  has  but  one  enemy — man  ; 
and  even  by  man  he  is  not  constantly  perse- 
cuted. In  the  year  1900  some  six  thousand 
caribou  are  believed  to  have  been  shot  in  the 
whole  island — some  seven  hundred  by  American, 
British,  and  native  sportsmen  during  the  autumn 
migration,  and  the  remainder  by  native  meat 
hunters  during  winter,  at  which  season  the  deer 
collect  in  large  herds,  and  often  approach  the 
fishing  villages  on  the  south  coast  of  the  island  ; 
but,  nevertheless,  the  great  bulk  of  the  caribou  in 
Newfoundland — and  I  believe  that  there  are 
still  enormous  numbers  of  these  animals  in 
existence — probably  never  see  a  human  being, 
either  in  their  summer  haunts  to  the  north  of 
the  railway  or  on  their  winter  feeding  grounds 
to  the  south. 

On  the  night  of  my  arrival  at  Howley  I 
slept  at  the  station,  and  the  following  morning, 
after  an  early  breakfast  by  lamplight,  started 
with  my  guide  eastwards  along  the  railway 
in  order  to  take  up  a  position  on  a  good  "  lead  " 
as  early  as  possible.  As  it  grew  light  we  found 
the  face  of  the  land  enshrouded  in  so  thick  a 
mist  that  a  caribou  would  have  been  invisible 
at  a  distance  of  fifty  yards.  So  dense  was  this 
mist  that  when  a  little  later  I  was  sitting  on 
a  large  stone  on  a  piece  of  rising  ground,  from 
whence,  had  the  weather  been  clear,  I  should 
have  commanded  a  view  over  an  open  stretch 
of  boggy  ground,  a  large  peregrine  falcon  all 
but  perched  on  my  head.  I  saw  it  flying 
through  the  mist  straight  towards  me,  and  did 
not  move  until  it  was  close  to  my  face.  Then 
I  saw-  it  was  a  big  falcon,  and  at  the  same  time 
it  realized  that  I  was  not  a  part  of  the  rock  on 
which  I  was  sitting.  It  checked  itself  suddenly 
in  its  night,  rose  just  above  my  head,  and  j)assed 
on,  but  I  feel  sure  it  had  intended  to  perch  on 
my  head. 

The  mist  now  began  to  clear,  and  my  guide 
said  we  had  better  go  a  little  farther  up  the  line 
and  take  up  a  position  for  the  day  on  a  very 
good  "  lead  "  he  knew  of.  W'c  soon  passed  two 
hunting  camps,  all  of  whose  occupants  were 
already  out  watching  "  leads."     When  we  were 


AI  ri:R     WOODI.WD    CARIIiOU     IN     NEWH  )LNI  )1.ANI ). 


291 


some  three  miles  from  Howlcy  Station  we  left 
the  hue  and  turned  northwards  along  some  open 
ridjies  intersected  by  boggy  valleys.  After  having 
walked  about  a  mile  in  this  direction  wc  sat  down 
at  the  foot  of  a  large  pine  tree.  The  mist  was 
now  clearing  fast,  and  we  were  presently  able  to 
distinguish  objects  at  some  distance.  The  first 
living  things  we  saw  were  not  caribou,  but  three 
men  watching  for  those  animals  on  the  same 
"lead"  as  ourselves,  and  within  two  hundred 
yards  of  us.  My  guide  swore  softly,  and  I  found 
it  ditticult  to  adequately  express  my  own  feelings. 
We  then  walked  up  to  our  competitors,  who 
proved  to  be  natives  of  the  island  looking  for 
meat ;  they  were  all  known  to  my  guide.  Two 
of  them  were  armed  with  muzzle  -  loading 
weapons,  one  of  which  was  a  long  8-bore 
sealing  gun,  loaded  with  slugs.  The  third 
carried  a  good  breech-loading  rifle.  After  a 
short  talk  with  these  men  it  was  arranged  that 
we  should  go  a  little  farther  on  down  the  main 
"  lead,"  and  allow  everything  to  pass  but  a  stag 
with  a  good  head.  We  therefore  took  up  a 
second  position  on  the  top  of  another  ridge 
some  three  hundred  yards  farther  on.  Here  we 
sat  until  about  one  o'clock  without  seeing  or 
hearing  anything.  By  this  time  the  mist  had 
entirely  cleared  off  and  it  was  a  bright,  sunny 
day.  Suddenly  we  heard  a  shot  not  very  far 
away  to  the  left.  "  That's  someone  on  the  next 
lead,"  said  my  guide  ;  "  now  look  out,  as  the 
deer  may  come  this  way."  Some  two  minutes 
later  I  saw  about  twenty  caribou — all  does  and 


fawns,  so  far  a-.  1  >  uuld  make  out — come 
trotting  into  the  o[)cn  and  make  directly 
towards  the  three  gunners  behind  us.  I  saw 
tw(j  of  these  men  run  towards  the  deer  and 
then  sit  down  and  fire  into  them  without  visible 
effect  as  they  trotted  past.  Soon  wc  saw 
another  herd  of  does,  followed  by  a  stag, 
coming  straight  towards  where  we  were  sitting  ; 
but  the  man  with  the  rille  ran  in  and  fired  at 
them  when  they  were  still  some  four  hundred 
yards  away  from  us.  Then  they  disappeared  in 
the  hollow  behind  the  next  ridge  to  the  one 
on  which  we  had  taken  our  stand.  In  a  few 
minutes  the  does  reappeared,  coming  straight 
towards  us,  the  stag  presently  following  at 
a  slow  trot  some  distance  behind  them.  Look- 
ing at  him  with  my  glasses  I  saw  that  he  carried 
a  very  pretty  head,  but  he  was  not  for  me,  for  a 
streak  of  blood  on  his  flank  showed  that  he  was 
wounded.  The  does  now  trotted  down  into  the 
boggy  ground  below  us,  and  presently  came  up 
to  within  twenty  yards  of  where  we  were  sitting 
at  the  foot  of  a  big  fir  tree,  and  stood  staring  at 
us  for  some  time,  evidently  unable  to  make  us 
out.  A\'hen  I  say  they  were  within  twenty  yards 
of  us  I  am  not  exaggerating,  but  really  mean 
what  I  say  ;  and  my  guide  afterwards  told  me 
that  cases  were  known  where  several  caribou 
standing  with  their  heads  close  together,  looking 
curiously  at  a  man  who  kept  quite  still,  had 
been  killed  with  one  charge  of  slugs  fired  from  a 
heavy  sealing  gun.  Whilst  the  does  were  look- 
ing at  us  the  wounded  stag  had  halted  in  the 


J- roil!  a  rftolo,  6y\ 


A   VOUNG  CARIBOU    PHOTOORAIHED   FKO.M    LIKK   NtAK    HOWLBV  STATION 


292 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


bog  below,  and  the  man  who  had  wounded  him 
fired  at  him  again  from  the  ridge  behind  and 
broke  his  neck.  He  fell  dead  within  a  hundred 
and  fifty  yards  of  where  we  were  sitting.  He 
was  a  fine  animal,  with  a  very  pretty  and 
symmetrical  head  of  thirty-seven  points,  both 
brow  antlers  being  well  developed. 

I  must  say  that  I  felt  thoroughly  disgusted 
with  the  whole  business.  In  the  first  place,  to 
sit  on  one  spot  for  hours  lying  in  wait  for  game 
is  not  hunting,  and,  although  under  favourable 
conditions  it  may  be  a  deadly  way  of  killing 
caribou,  it  is  not  a  form  of  sport  which  would 
appeal  to  me  under  any 
circumstances,  but  when 
pursued  in  competition 
with,  and  in  the 
midst  of,  numer- 
ous other  gunners 
I  could  see  no  re- 
deeming point  in 
it  whatever.  How- 
ever, I  resolved  to 
say  nothing  and 
see  the  day 
through.  My 
guide  seemed  full 
of  hope  and  con- 
fidence. Holding 
the  horns  of  the 
dead  stag,  he  pro- 
nounced it  to  be 
a  very  fair  head  ; 
"But,"  said  he, 
"we'll  get  better 
than  that  before 
the  week's  out," 
and  presently  he 
remarked,  "  The  big  stags 
are  only  just  beginning  to 
come  across  the  railway ; 
they  are  always  the  last  to 
migrate  south.  If  we  could  only  get  a  snow- 
storm ;  that  would  move  them,  and  then  you 
would  get  a  chance  to  pick  some  fine  heads." 

We  then  went  back  to  our  tree  and  watched 
the  "leads"  till  late  in  the  afternoon.  About 
four  o'clock  a  heavy  fusillade  broke  out  a  few 
lumdred  yards  down  the  "lead  "  in  front  of  us. 
We  counted  fifteen  shots.  This  showed  how 
well-nigh  hopeless  our  own  position  had  been, 
as,  all  unknown  to  us,  some  other  gunners  were 
sitting  on  the  same  "lead  "ahead  of  us,  and 
would  naturally  have  got  the  first  chance  at  any 
stag  that  came  along.  We  presently  saw  the 
man  who  had  fired  the  shots.  He  told  us  he 
had  killed  a  good  slag,  and  declared  he  had 
only  had  two  shots  at  it  ;  but  my  guide,  who 
knew  him,  afterwards  told  me  that  he  was  a  man 


CARIBOU    DEER   ON   THEIR    ANNUAL    MIGRATION 
FlOlll  a  Photo. 


who  enjoyed  a  reputation  for  being  somewhat 
inaccurate  in  his  statements.  I  afterwards  saw 
the  head  of  the  stag  he  had  shot.  It  was  quite 
a  nice  one,  but  not  so  good  as  the  one  I  had 
seen  shot  in  the  morning.  That  evening  I  again 
slept  at  Howley  Station. 

On  the  following  morning,  leaving  my  cook 
and  the  guide's  son  to  take  my  baggage  on 
a  trolley  about  a  mile  along  the  line  and  there 
pitch  camp,  I  again  went  out  with  the  father  of 
the  latter  to  look  for  a  good  caribou  stag.  I  may 
here  mention  that  within  a  hundred  yards  of 
where  my  camp  was  pitched  the  cook  found  the 

fresh-killed  carcass  of  a 
fawn  which  had  probably 
been  shot  by  someone  the 
previous  evening. 
The  meat  was  per- 
fectly good,  and 
whilst  it  lasted  I 
was  saved  from 
the  necessity  of 
killing  a  doe  or 
young  stag  for  the 
larder. 

As  my  experi- 
ences of  the  pre- 
%•  i  o  u  s  day  had 
thoroughly  dis- 
gusted me,  I  told 
my  guide  that  he 
must  take  me  for 
a  day's  walk 
through  the  coun- 
try, as  I  would 
not  again  sit  on  a 
"  lead  "  and  wait 
for  caribou  to 
come  to  me.  He  acknow- 
ledged that  it  was  a  poor 
form  of  sj)ort,  but  said  that 
at  this  time  of  year  it  paid 
better  than  walking  and  looking  for  caribou  as 
the  animals  were  all  travelling,  and  so  seldom 
gave  an  opportunity  for  a  stalk,  whilst  the  country 
was  difficult  to  get  about  in,  owing  to  the  softness 
of  the  bogs  and  the  density  of  the  forests. 

W'e  liad  a  good  day  of  it,  not  getting  back  to 
camp  till  dark.  'Ihe  walking  was  certainly  very 
hard,  but  I  found  I  could  stand  it  well  enough. 
The  whole  country  was  level  and  divided  into 
pretty  ecjual  parts  of  open  bog  and  dense  forest. 
In  the  bogs  one  sank  over  the  ankle — and  often 
much  deeper — in  water  at  every  step,  and  pro- 
gress was  as  slow  and  tiring  as  when  walking  in 
deep  soft  snow  ;  whilst  in  the  patches  of  forest 
the  small  spruce  firs  grew  so  close  together,  and 
were  so  tangled  uf)  with  fallen  trees,  that  it  was 
a   pleasant   ( hange    to    break    through  into  the 


AirER     WOODI.AMi    (AKIllor     1  \     NKW  I  '  )UM)LA.\  1). 


■JS 


open  ami  plunge  into  a  deep  hog  again.      In  the 
course  of  the  day  we  came  ujion  a  lawn  wander- 
ing   disconsolately    around    all     by    itself,     its 
mother  having  doubtless   been   shot,  and  later 
on   four  does  and  a  fawn    passed   close  to  us, 
travelling  due   south    towards  the  railway  line. 
Of    these    does    three   were    hornless,    but    the 
fourth  had  small  horns.     The  ease  and  rapidity 
with  wiiich   these  animals  traversed  a  stretch  of 
open  marsh  whilst  we  watched 
them  were  most  remarkable. 
They   seemed    to   glide  over 
the  surfiace  without  sinking  in 
at    all,     and    got    along    so 
quickly  that  no  liuman  being, 
I   imagine,  could    have  over- 
taken them,   for    in    the    wet 
bogs   of    Newfoundland   you 
can't  run,  and  may  rather  be 
said  to  wade    than    to  walk. 
Neither  horse,  ox,  nor  ass  can 
traverse  these  marshes  at  all, 
as  they  sink  in  and  get  bogged 
immediately,  but  the  feet  of 
the     caribou     arc     specially 
adapted    for  walking,   in    soft 
ground,  as  not  only  can  the 
broad,     rounded     hoofs     be 
splayed  out   very    wide  apart 
and   made   to   cover   a  large 
surface,  but  the  dew-claws  are 
also    specially   developed    in 
order  to  assist  in  bearing  up 
the  animal's  weight.     On  our 
way  back  to  camp  we  came 
on  two  caribou  feeding  in  a 
small    marsh    surrounded    by 
forest.     They  were  a  stag  and  a  doe,  and  the 
former  looked  a  fine,  large  animal.     I  crept  up  to 
within  seventy  yards  of,  and  had  a  good  look  at, 
him.      I  was  very  nearly  shooting  him,  but  after 
studying  his  head  for  some  time  I  decided  it 
was  not  worth  having,  as  the  lO[)s  of  his  antlers 
seemed  very  poor,   so  I  stood  up  and  let  him 
see  me,  when  he  presently  ran  off.     On  getting 
back  to  cam[)  I  found  that  two  acquaintances  of 
my  guide  had  come  up  from  Alexander  Bay  to 
try  and  get  some  meat  for  the  winter.     One  of 
them  was  armed  with  a  sealing  gun  loaded  with 
slugs,  and  the  other  carried  a  good  rifle.     This 
latter,    an    elderly    man    named    Saunders,  had 
killed  during  the  day  a  very  fine  caribou  stag 
with  a  liead  of  forty-one   points,  not  far  from 
camp,  just  as  it  was  crossing  the  railway.     'I'he 
horns   of  this  stag,  though  not  very  long,   were 
wonderfully  palmated  and  very  symmetrical.      I 
took  a  photograph  of  it,  and  it  was  subse<]uently 
bought   by  one   of  the   occupants   of  the   next 
camp  along  the  line  for  fifteen  dollars. 


On  the   following  day  I   agai.i  tramped  the 
bogs  to  the  north  of  the  railw.iy,  but  f.  '    ' 
come  across  a  good  stag.     .Sotjn  after  • 

camp  I  met  a  doe  and  a  fawn,  and  later  on  a 
small  herd,  consisting  of  five  does  and  a  • 
passed  within  fifty  yards  of  the  bu.shes  ::  .. 
behind  which  my  guide  and  I  had  b  •  i 
watching  them  as  they  approached  us  across 
an  open    bog.     As  the    stag    had  a  poor  head 


I'lOiii  a\ 


\    H.Nfc;    HEAD   OF    FUKIV-UNE    lOl.M.-.,    sHoi     .NbAK    IHt   AL  I  Hl>K  S  OAUf.        \l'tUt^. 


I  did  not  stop  him.  and  all  six  animals 
passed  on  southwards  (|uite  unconscious  of  our 
near  proximity.  In  the  afternoon  we  had  rather 
an  interesting  experience.  Stroud  (my  guide) 
and  I  were  resting  on  a  stretch  of  dry  sand  just 
below  the  high  and  densely-wooded  upper  bank 
of  the  Sand  River,  a  pretty  stream  some  eighty 
yards  in  width.  Sitting  as  we  were  on  the  open 
beach,  we  were,  of  course,  in  full  view  of  any 
animal  standing  on  the  farther  bank  of  the  river. 
Nevertheless  a  herd  of  caribou,  consisting  of 
three  old  does,  a  fawn,  and  two  young  stag^, 
presently  made  their  .  ... 

trees  exactly  opposite,  . I 

notice  us  plunged  one  after  the  other  into  the 
river.     They  swam  across  to  our  ;«'  " 

the  other,   and    heading  a  little   

got  into  shallow  water  about  fifty  yards  below 
where  we  were  sitting.  Here  they  stood  for 
.some  minutes  shaking  the  water  out  of  their 
thick  coats  like  great  dogs.  I'resently,  headed 
by  one  of  the  young  stags  tliey  waded  one  after 


294 


'I'HE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


/■  loiu  a  i'tioto.  i'y\ 


CAKIliOL"    hUl.M.MING   ACKOSS   A    LAKK, 


I/.  //.  Ih-vcridge,  K^,;. 


swimming  past  us  a  few 
inches  of  the  whole  length 
of  their  bodies  was  above 
the  water,  whilst  all  their 
short  tails  were  held 
straight  up  in  the  air  like 
tiny  sails,  the  snow-white 
underside  being  fully  ex- 
posed to  view. 

During  the  following 
night  heavy  rain  set  in, 
which  turned  to  snow 
before  morning,  the  storm 
lasting  till  after  midday. 
\\'hen  the  cook  brought 
me  my  early  breakfast 
before  daylight,  as  usual, 
he  informed  me  that  the 
meat    of   the    fawn   on 


the  other  back  again  into  deep  water,  and  swam 
in  single  file  straight  up  the  centre  of  the  river, 
and  again  landed  on  the  same  side  about  two 
hundred  yards  above  us.  They  certainly  passed 
within  thirty  or  forty  yards  of  us,  but,  though 
we  were  in  full  view  on  the  o[)en  beach,  never 
appeared  to  notice  us.  As  the  wind  was  blow- 
ing up  stream  they  Very  soon  scented  us  after 
leaving  the  water,  and  they  then  showed  the 
same  alarm  which  is  manifested  by  all  other 
wild  animals  at  the  smell  of  man.  As 
the  taint  entered  their  nostrils  they  each 
made  a  short  dash  to  one  side  or  the 
other ;  then  they  all  stood  still  for  a  moment, 
looking  eagerly  for  their  unseen  enemies,  and 
then  dashed  off  headlong.     I  noticed  that  when 


which  we  had  been  living  for  the  past  three 
days  was  nearly  finished,  and  asked  me  to 
try  and  shoot  a  deer  near  camj>  for  the  larder. 
Not  long  afterwards,  on  looking  out  of  my  tent 
through  the  fast  falling  snowflakes,  I  saw  two 
caribou  does  standing  just  on  the  side  of  the 
railway  and  within  fifty  yards  of  our  encamj)- 
ment.  I  at  once  got  hold  of  my  rifle  and, 
pushing  in  a  cartridge,  looked  out  again.  The 
two  does  had  seen  me  when  I  first  left  the  tent, 
and  had  trotted  a  short  distance  away,  but  were 
now  again  standing  less  than  a  hundred  yards 
from  me.  So  I  killed  one  of  them  with  a  bullet 
through  the  lungs — the  first  shot  I  had  fired  at 
caribou.  On  the  following  day  I  shot  another 
— a  stag  with  too  poor  a  head  to  keep — out  of  a 


tv*    -^1 


/■:.'m  n  Photo.  /•,] 


r.     MIA  1     !  <  'l'      M'l, 


l.s:  //.  /■./ 


AFTER    wool  )I, AND    (  AKIl'.Ol'     1\     NEW  TOINDLAND. 


•05 


heru  of  six  wliicli  tiotiLtl  past  our  tent  just 
after  my  return  to  camp  late  in  the  afternoon. 
I  gave  this  animal  to  tlie  man  with  the  sealing 
gun,  who  had  just  killed  a  young  stag  out  of  the 
same  herd.  He  was  delighted  to  get  two 
whole  carcasses,  and  took  them  off  home  that 
evening  on  the  slow  train  which  runs  over  the 
line  daily  from  St.  John's  to  Port-aux-Basques. 
This  train  is  called  the  "accommodation  train," 
and  it  fully  deserves  the  appellation.  It  travels 
slowly,  time  is  of  no  object   to  it,  and  on  being 


it  would   not   be  mu<  h   use  ou:    :■.. p.  .^nv 

longer  where  we  were.  To  my  question  as  to 
whether  we  could  not  get  into  the  country  to 
which  the  deer  had  migrated,  he  replied 
that  the  difficulty  of  hunting  in  any  district 
which  was  not  either  adjacent  to  the  railway 
or  accessible  by  water  arose  froni  the  fact 
that  in  Newfoundland  no  pack  animals  could 
be  used,  and  thus  in  a  journey  across  country 
all  provisions  and  camp  eiiuipment  had  neces- 
sarily to  be  carried  on  men's  backs.     He  told 


Frotit  a  Photo.  iy\ 


THE    AUTHORS    CAMl'    NKAK     MOWI.KV    MM 


\S.  If.  J'.trt,HJ. 


hailed  will  obligingly  stop  anywhere,  indepen- 
dently of  stations,  and  take  up  passengers  or 
deer  carcasses. 

On  the  evening  of  October  31st  Stroud  and 
I  came  home  along  the  railway  and  took  careful 
note  of  the  tracks  that  had  crossed  the  line 
since  the  snow  fell.  The  snow  had  now  been 
lying  a  foot  deep  on  the  ground  for  two  days, 
yet  the  number  of  caribou  tracks  which  had 
crossed  the  line  since  it  fell,  between  Howley 
Station  and  Goose  Lake,  was  very  small,  and, 
so  far  as  we  could  learn  from  incjuiry  at  the 
different  camps,  no  big  stags  had  been  seen 
(luring  that  time.  My  guide  now  al)andoned 
his  original  idea  that  a  snowstorm  would  bring 
a  number  of  old  stags  across  the  railway  line, 
and  came  to  the  conclusion  that  the  autumn 
migration  was  nearly  over  and  that,  therefore. 


me,  however,  that  if  we  moved  to  a  station 
about  a  hundred  and  fifty  miles  east  of 
Howley  he  thought  we  could  get  by  boat  to  a 
country  where  no  one  else  was  at  present  hunt- 
ing, and  where  there  would  be  a  good  chance  of 
finding  caribou.  I  at  once  made  up  my  mind 
to  try  this  new  field,  as  I  was  heartily  sick  of  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  railway.  We  got  on 
board  the  train  the  same  night,  and  reached 
I'erra  Nova  Station  at  11  a.m.  on  the  morning 
of  the  I  St  of  November.  Kor  this  e.\cursion  I 
engaged  .Saunders  and  Stroud's  son  in  addition 
to  the  guide  and  the  cook. 

On    leaving    the    train    we    io-:    '■-.••    i  nu     lU 
packing    our    traps     on     board    a    heavy  row- 
boat,  and  forthwith  made  a  start  up  the  lake. 
The  day  was  colt),  with  a  '   '  '       f^g 

which  ore';entlv  k""' -■ -'  '  ^^t? 


296 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


were  obliged  to  take  shelter  early  in  the  after- 
noon behind  a  projecting  headland  and  Ke  there 
for  the  rest  of  the  day. 

On  the  following  morning  the  water  of  the 
lake  was  comparatively  calm,  as  the  wind  had 
gone  down  during  the  night,  so  we  lost  no  time 


From  a 


in  getting  on  the  move.  Stroud  and  I  left 
the  boat  to  proceed  along  the  right-hand  shore 
of  the  lake  and  up  the  St.  George's  River  to 
an  appointed  spot  where  it  was  arranged  we 
were  to  meet  and  camp  that  evening,  and  we 
then  set  off  on  a  hunt  into  the  country  lying  to 
the  west  of  our  last  night's  bivouac.  After 
having  followed  the  shore  of  the  lake  for  a  mile 
or  so  we  made  our  way  up  a  densely-wooded 
slope,  which  rose  to  a  height  of  two  or  three 
hundred  feet  above  the  level  of  the  water, 
and  presently  emerged  upon  an  open  plateau  of 
level  marsh,  scattered  over  which  were  little 
islands  of  forest  and  outcrops  of  moss-covered 
rock,  known  as  "  barrens."  We  had  been  walk- 
ing for  perhaps  a  couple  of  hours,  and  were 
just  entering  a  patch  of  burnt  forest,  a  veritable 
wilderness  of  dead  and  bleaching  j)oles, 
when  I  suddenly  caught  sight  of  the  white 
neck  and  reddish  antlers  of  a  caribou 
stag.  "  Sit  down,"  I  whispered  to  my  guide, 
who  was  just  in  front  of  me  but  had  not  yet 
seen  him,  and  we  both  squatted  at  once.  The 
caribou  stag  was  less  than  a  hundred  yards  away 
when  I  first  .saw  him,  and  had  he  been  a  sharp- 
sighted  animal  would  inevitably  have  seen  us  at 
the  same  time.  However,  he  failed  to  do  so, 
and  came  mooning  along  through  the  dead  and 
leafless  tree  stems,  evidently  with  a  mind  so 
much  at  ease  that  he  had  not  the  least  suspicion 
that  danger  and  death  might  be  lurking  very 
near   him.      I    could    not  at    once   fire,    as   the 


\ritoto. 


burnt  forest  through  which  he  was  slowly 
moving  was  very  thick,  so  I  waited  for  him  to 
advance  into  more  open  ground.  I  must  say 
he  looked  a  splendid  animal,  his  snow-white 
neck,  with  its  shaggy  fringe  of  hair  depending 
from  the  throat,  showing  up  in  striking  contrast 

with  his  grey-brown 
body  and  dark  face  ; 
whilst  the  curiously 
palmated  antlers 
when  viewed  from  one 
side  looked  like  some 
curious  spiky  growth 
of  wood.  He  soon 
got  into  a  little  more 
open  ground  and 
gave  me  a  very  easy 
broadside  shot  at 
about  eighty  yards,  so 
I  put  a  bullet  through 
his  lungs,  which  killed 
him  very  quickly. 

My  prize  was  evi- 
dently an  animal  in 
his  prime.  Unfor- 
tunately, only  one 
brow  tine  was  broadly 
palmated,  and  on  this  side — the  left  antler — 
there  were  nineteen  points.  The  other  antler 
only  bore  eleven,  as  the  brow  tine  was  a  long 
single  spike.  However,  the  head  was  a  very 
pretty  and  regular  one  in  all  other  respects,  and 
I  was  very  pleased  to  have  secured  it. 

After  cutting  off  the  head  of  this  stag  and 
cleaning  the  carcass*  Stroud  and  I  had  a  long 
and  heavy  day's  walking  through  the  marshy 
u[)land.  Soon  after  midday  we  came  on  two 
more  young  stags  lying  down.  They  were  very 
tame,  and  allowed  me  to  have  a  good  look  at 
them,  but  their  heads  were  not  quite  large 
enough,  so  I  left  them  alone.  It  was  after  dark 
when  we  at  last  reached  the  camping  place 
agreed  upon  on  the  bank  of  the  St.  George's 
River,  but  our  boat  had  not  yet  arrived  there. 
However,  in  about  an  hour  it  turned  up,  by 
which  time  we  had  got  a  glorious  fire  burning. 
Although  the  day  had  been  bright  and  sunny 
and  almost  cloudless,  it  had  become  (]uite  over- 
cast l>y  the  time  the  boat  arrived,  and  before  we 
could  get  the  tents  jMtched  rain  had  commenced 
to  fall. 

On  the  following  morning,  leaving  our  cook 
in  charge  of  the  tents,  I  set  out  with  Stroud, 
his  son,  and  .Saunders  on  an  excursion  into  the 
country  lying  to  the  west  of  our  encampment. 
We  travelled  light,  only  taking  tea,  sugar,  hard 
biscuit,  and  a    piece  of   bacon  in  the  way  of 

*  When  on  our  return  the  men  went    to  get  this  meat,  they  found 
tlial  much  of  it  had  I'ceii  devoured  hy  eagles. 


Airi;K   wooDi.wi)  cARinou   i\   mcwfoundi.and. 


297 


provisions,  and  a  light  canvas  sheet  instead  of 
a  tent.  I  took  a  single  blanket  for  myself,  hut 
the  men  had  only  one  blanket  between  them. 
However,  in  Newfoundland  an  al)undance  of 
ihy  woOLi  is  almost  everywhere  to  be  found,  and 
llu-re  is,  therefore,  no  difticulty  in  keeping  warm 
with  the  hell)  of  a  good  fire,  without  a  blanket 
at  all. 

On  this  excursion  we  were  absent  from  camp 
for  live  days,  and  travelled  over  a  good  deal  of 
country.  During  the  first  day's  march  we 
crossed  the  tracks  of  great  numbers  of  caribou. 
These  tracks  were  all  going  westwards,  and, 
though  none  were  fresh,  the  greater  part  of  them 
only  seemed  to  be  a  few  days  old.  Stroud 
fully  e.\pected  that  we  should  come  up  with  the 
migrating  deer  on  some  0[)en  "  barrens  "  just 
beyond  a  liltle  lake  known  as  Island  Pond.  We 
reached  the  lake  late  in  the  afternoon,  and,  leaving 
the  other  two  men  to  arrange  a  shelter  for  the 
niiiht,  Stroud  and  I  took  a  round  over  the  undu- 
lating  rocky  "  barrens  "  beyond.  Late  in  the 
evening  we  saw  three  caribou  does,  but  they  were 
evidently  stragglers,  as  the  tracks  showed  that 
the  main  body  of  deer  had  passed  on  west- 
wards. My  guide  thought  that  the  snowstorm 
of  the  previous  week  had  moved  them,  and 
feared  thev  might  travel  too  fiir  to  the  south- 
west  to  allow  us  to  o\ertake  them.  This, 
unhappily,    proved  to  be   the    case.      However. 


northwest  corner  of  the  lake.  This  river  has 
no  name,  so  far  as  I  could  learn,  and  is  only 
indicated  by  a  dotted  line  on  th 
maps.  It  seems  absurd  to  talk 
int(j  unknown  country  close  to  a  railway 
a  comparatively  small  island  like  NewfouiKiLmd 
—  an  island,  moreover,  which  was  disc  o\ end 
mere  than  four  hundred"  years  ago ;  but  the 
fact  remains  that  much  of  the  interior,  iioih  o( 
the  southern  and  northern  portions  of  New- 
foundland, has  never  )el  been  surveyed,  although 
it  has  been  traversed  in  various  directions  along 
its  chief  waterways.  Hut  between  the  rivers 
there  are  stretches  of  country  which  may 
be  said  to  be  absolutely  unknown  — i)athlcss 
wastes  of  marsh  and  forest,  studded  with  count- 
less little  lakes  and  ponds,  never  yet  looked 
upon  by  the  eye  of  civilized  man  :  wild  and  deso- 
late solitudes  at  present  absolutely  uninhabited. 
\N'e  followed  the  course  of  the  river  I  have 
mentioned  for  some  distance  westward  to  a  point 
about  three  miles  beyond  a  pretty  liltle  water- 
fall. Along  the  bank  of  this  river  I  noticed 
many  small  spruce  trees  which  had  been 
beaten  to  pieces  liy  caribou  stags  when  rubbing 
the  velvet  from  their  horns  in  the  early 
autumn.  This  fact  convinced  me  that  there 
were  deer  which  passed  the  summer  in  this 
district  and  did  not  migrate  in  the  spring  to 
the  northern  part  of  the  island.     On  question 


/•>()/;/  rt| 


ST.    JOHNS   LAKE,    NKWfOU.NULANU. 


we  followed  on  the  deer  tracks  for  two  more 
days,  trudging  slowly  and  heavily  along  through 
spongy  marshes  and  dense  spruce  forests. 

Soon  afler  leaving  Island  Pond  we  got  into 
a  country  into  which  none  ol  the  men  with 
me  had  ever  pre\iously  jienetrated,  and  passing 
over  the  high  ground  to  the  north  of  St.  John's 
Lake  came  on  to  a    line  river 


runnmg   into  lh<' 


(To 


ing  Stroud   on   this   subject,  he  told  nic  there 

ccHild  be  no  doubt  that  a  con 

of  deer  |>assed    the  wh'  •  ■ 

the    railway.      In    his    .  _  '"' 

heaviest  stags  in  the   island    would    be   luund 

amongst  this  number.      1    ■ 

of  all  this  and  di  termincd 

I  ever  visit  Newfoundland  ag.iin. 

:.,,,.-.}  1 


Vol.  .X.  -OC. 


Sixteen   ^ays  Jlmong  brigands. 

Bv  Spiro  X.  Stavroui.opoulos,  of  ^'osTIZZA,  Greecf.. 

Stay-at-home  folks  are  apt  to  imagine  that  brigandage  is  extinct  in  Europe,  but  this  story— the  personal 
narrative  of  a  wealthy  young  Greek  gentleman — will  probably  make  them  alter  their  opinion.  Mr. 
Stavroulopoulos  was  seized  and  held  for  ransom  by  a  band  of  brigands,  who  threatened  to  kill  their 
captive  the  moment  the  authorities  got  upon  their  track.  The  author  describes  his  capture,  the  long 
days  of  suspense  as  a  prisoner  in    the  outlaws'  cave,  and  his  final  escape. 


\  the  2gth  of  May  last,  after  my 
usual  afternoon  rest,  I  got  up  and 
staited  putting  on  a  riding  suit, 
intending  to  go  to  our  counting- 
house  at  Temeni,  a  place  about  ten 

miles   away  from  Vostizza,    where  I  then  was. 

Suddenly   I    heard    footsteps  in    the   courtyard 

below,   and,    going    to    the    window,    saw    an 

untidy-looking   man   standing   there.     He    was 

holding  a  letter  in  his  hand 

and  asking  for  somebody. 
Thinking  it  was  a  letter 

for  my  father,  I  continued 

to     dress,    when,    without 

even  taking  the  trouble  to 

knock  at  my  door,  the  man 

I  had  seen    below  entered 

my   room    and    silently 

handed    me   the   letter   he 

carried.     It  was  addressed 

to   myself,    and   ran   as 

follows  : — 

"  Mr.  Spiro,  —  I    have 

positive  information  regard- 
ing  those   masked  men  of 

last     year.      You     are    in 

great  danger.     I  must  see 

you  at  once.     The  bearer 

will    lead   you    to   a   j^lace 

where  I  can  see  you  .safely 

this  evening  at  nine. — With 

regards,  Constantix  Tano- 

TAULOS." 

Now,  Panopaulos  was 
known  to  me  as  a  fugitive 
from  justice  who  had  also 
"borrowed"  some 
two  or  three  hundred  francs  from  me  a  few 
months  ago.  Me  had  lately  become  rather 
notorious,  but  people  were  to  be  found  who 
insisted    that    he    was   a   good    man,    unjustly 


T  Ml-    AI'TIIUK,    MK.    SltkO 
/•;•/>/«  a]  WAS   CAI'TURIC 


accused  in  connection  with  a  theff.  with  violence.         dinner." 


This  was  his  only  crime  so  far  as  I  knew,  and 
he  had  always  shown  the  deepest  respect  towards 
myself,  my  famil)',  and  my  people.  He  had, 
moreover,  taken  an  active  ])art  in  trying  to 
discover  a  band  of  masked  ruffians  who  had 
paid  us  a  surprise  visit  out  in  the  fields  the  year 
before.  I  therefore  determined  to  keep  the 
appointment,  and  told  the  bearer  of  the  letter  to 
be  in  the  town  square  about  nine  o'clock. 

At  9  p.m.  I  was  at  the 
appointed  place  waiting  for 
my  guide.  He  was  not 
long  in  coming,  and  soon 
afterwards  we  were  silently 
walking  together.  We 
walked  for  about  fifteen 
minutes,  reaching  the  back 
of  the  small  railway  station, 
where  my  guide  informed 
me  Panopaulos  would  soon 
join  us.  I  was  rather  dis- 
appointed at  not  meeting 
him  at  once,  as  I  was  not 
only  impatient  to  know 
what  news  he  had  for 
me,  but  also  wished  to 
get  the  interview  over  as 
soon  as  possible,  in  order 
that  I  might  return  home 
in  time  (or  dinner.  We 
usually  dined  at  9.30  p.m. 

However,  at  about 
twenty  minutes  past  nine 
Panopaulos  made  his 
appearance. 

"Ciood  evening,  Mr. 
Spiro,"  he  said.  "  It  is 
long  since  I  saw  you  last,  and  I  haw  mm  h  to 
tell  you.'' 

"All    ri;4ht,''    I    said;    "out   with  your  news 
quickly,   for    I  want   to   get  back   in   time   for 


X.   s'rAvmni.oruui.os,  uim 

O    liV    IIIUCANDS.  [Photo. 


SI.\li;i:\     D.WS     AMONd     liRIO.WDS. 


-•«»9 


"  1  can't  sjKak  to  you  here,"  he  replied  ;  ''  we 
are  ahiiost  in  town,  and  I  am  afraid  someone 
might  see  us.  Vou  must  just  sacrifice  your  dinner 
for  to-night  and  come  with  me  a  Uttle  way." 

I  relleeted  that  now  1  had  come  I  mitiht  as 
well  dine  later,  and  so  decided  to  follow  him. 
After  leaving  the  railway  station  about  half  a 
mile  behind,  I  was  rather  startletl  at  my  com- 
panion's strange  change  of  manner,  lie  had 
familiarly  taken  my  arm,  and  appeared  to  be 
holding  me  closely. 

I  was  rather  annoyed,  and  for  a  m.oment  it 
occurred  to  me  to  shake  him  off ;  but  I  did  not 
wish  to  offend  the  man,  and  thought  I  might 
as  well  pull  my  arm  away  slowly  at  the  first 
opportunity.  However,  the  next  moment  I  felt 
his  hand  searching  my 
pocket,  and  before  1 
could  prevent  him  he 
had  drawn  from  it  a 
small  seven  -  chambered 
revolver  which  I  always 
carried.  Simultaneously 
I  heard  a  whistle,  and, 
my  suspicions  being  now 
thoroughly  aroused,  .  I 
tried  to  shake  myself 
free.  The  man's  gri[), 
however,  tightened,  and 
his  com[)anion  seized 
hold  of  my  other  arm, 
whilst  a  second  whistle 
was  heard  somewhere  in 
front.  Presently  a  man 
appeared  carrying  three 
rifles,  one  of  which  he 
gave  to  Panopaulos  and 
another  to  Tselepis,  his 
companion. 

,      '  .    ..    .  lA.Nul'AULOS,    THE   CAl 

1  he   new  addition    to  /,ya„i 

our  company  was   a  tall 

man  of  between  fifty  and  fifty-five  years  of  age, 
with  a  grey  ujiturned  moustache.  He  looked 
like  a  walking  arsenal.  He  carried  a  Clras  rifle, 
about  two  hundred  rounds  of  ammunition,  a 
yataghan  or  curved  swortl,  an  army  revolver, 
and  a  small  dagger. 

The  rifle  he  handed  to  Panopaulos  was  one 
of  the  French  repeating  Lebel  type,  and  he  also 
gave  him  two  hundred  rounds  of  ammunition, 
a  revolver,  a  dagger,  a  telesco[)e,  and  a  leather 
bag. 

All  these  preparations,  the  loss  of  my  only 
weapon,  and  Panopaulos's  unusual  familiarity 
contributed  to  my  increased  uneasiness.  How- 
ever, I  (lid  not  wish  to  in;ike  my  apprehensions 
manifest  ;  but  1  resolved  to  grasp  the  first 
opportunity  of  escape. 

"  Now  that  we  are  ready,"  said  Panopaulos, 


presently,  "  we  nnght  an  well  ,  .n 

talk  a  little  farther  off,  so  as  to  bv  .  ut 

of  sight." 

To  this  remark  I  niade  no  reply,  and  we 
began  walking  slowly  towards  the  fields.  Tselepis 

—the   man   who   had   brought  me  the   letter 

walked  about  seventy  feet  in  front  of  us,  Pano- 
paulos and  I  walked  side  by  side,  and  Rouine- 
liotli,  the  third  man,  brought  up  the  rear. 

After  walking  for  about  twenty  minutes 
Pano[)aulos  sat  down  on  a  milestone  and  spoke 
to  me  with  a  great  deal  of  irony  in  his  tone. 

"  I  have  deceived  you,"  he  said.  "  I  brought 
you  hither  because  I  want  you  to  come  with 
me  for  a  couple  of  days,  and  help  me  to  get 
a    hundred    [lounds   from  your  father  in  order 

that  I  can  go  to  America 
with  my  companions. 
Don't  be  afraid,  because 
we  shall  not  hurt  you  in 
the  least." 

I  had  suspected  some- 
thing of  this  from  his 
manner.  "  I  don't  see 
the  nece';sity  of  coming 
with  you  and  dis(}uieting 
my  father,''  I  said.  "I 
will  go  back  immediately, 
and  to-morrow  morning 
you  shall  have  the  hun- 
dred pounds." 

Panopaulos  smiled 
grimly  before  replying. 

"  No,"  he  said,  "  that 
won't  do  ;  you  can't  go 
l)ack  before  I  receive  the 
money.'' 

At  this  point  I  con- 
sidered I  might  try  a 
change  of  policy,  so  I 
suddenly  turned  and 
started  running  towards  the  railway  station,  the 
lights  of  which  could  be  seen  in  the  distance, 
shouting  loutlly  for  help  at  the  sanie  time. 

My  dash  for  liberty  was  futile,  however,  for  a 
few  seconds  later  I  received  a  heavy  blow  on  the 
head  which  felled  me  to  the  ground,  and  I  Icit 
Panopaulos  putting  his  knee  on  my  chest  and  his 
dagger  to  my  throat. 

"Stop  your  noise,"  he  said,  fiercely,   "  ■  •   -  '-■ 
1  will  put  an  end  to  you." 

At  the  same  lime  he  beckoned  to  K'  ti 

to  gag  me,  and  when  thi  '         '  '' 

to  make  me  get  up.      I :  .  ^' 

behind  me  and  I  was  ordered  to  walk. 

In  this  way  we  m.  Iiours 

and    reached    the    m -  ■■■^    ihe 

Temeni  and  Ri/omylo  Hills.  There  we  halted, 
and   were  soon  afterwards   joined   by   a  mule- 


TAIN-    OK    THE    IIRIGAM 

a  ritoto. 


300 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


driver  with  two  mules.  This  worthy  produced 
bread,  cheese,  and  a  bottle  of  brandy,  and  the 
captain  of  the  brigands— for  such  Panopaulos 
appeared    to     be  — told     me    with    an    ironical 


Shortly  before  daybreak  the  muleteer  left  us, 
taking  his  mules  with  him,  and  we  had  to 
continue  our  journey  on  foot.  Soon,  however, 
we  arrived  at  the  Mamoussia  Forest,  where  we 

camped  for  the 


brigands 


;ot  their  blankets 
together  and, 
selecting  a  seclu- 
ded spot,  prepared 


'/v    " 


MV   DASH    FOR  LIBERTY   WAS   FUTILE. 


bow  that  he  was  sorry  he  could  offer  me 
nothing  better  in  compensation  for  my  lost 
dinner. 

I  declined  to  eat  anything,  but  drank  some 
of  the  brandy.  The  brigands  abstained  from 
touching  either  the  food  or  the  drink,  and  they 
informed  me  that  when  I  felt  hungry  I  was  to 
ask  for  refreshments. 

After  stop[)ing  under  the  bridge  for  about 
twenty  minutes  I  was  put  on  one  of  the  mules, 
whilst  Panopaulos  mounted  the  other.  Then 
we  began  our  march  again,  in  the  following 
order :  Roumeliotti  led,  on  foot,  about  fifty 
yards  in  front  of  us ;  I  followed  on  a  mule, 
which  wa.  held  fjy  the  bridle  by  T.selepis. 
Imnu'diatcly  behind  me  came  Panopaulos  on 
another  mule,  and  last  of  all  came  ihe  muleteer, 
marching  about  fifty  yards  behind. 

During  the  whole  night  we  travelled  in  this 
way,  and  pjssed  right  through  the  village  of 
Mamoussia  without  arousing  suspicions,  not- 
withstanding that  Panopaulos  sang  all  the  time 
songs  of  his  own  composition,  ipiite  in  the  old 
brigand  style. 


a  bed  for  me.  Food  was  again  offered  me,  and 
again  refused.     Smoking  was  strictly  forbidden. 

Having  made  myself  fairly  comfortable,  I  lay 
down  and  fell  asleep  at  once,  Panopaulos  in 
person  keeping  watch  over  the  camp.  I  awoke 
at  about  ten  o'clock  to  find  Panopaulos  by  my 
side  reading  a  P)ible.  He  told  me  I  had  had 
a  very  disturbed  sleep,  and  that  I  was  talking 
almost  incessantly.  I  must  not  worry,  he  said, 
as  I  was  not  going  to  be  hurt  in  any  way,  but 
was  only  to  be  detained  till  my  father  sent  the 
money  that  would  be  asked  for. 

We  were  now  almost  at  the  top  of  a  thickly 
wooded  hill,  and  from  where  I  was  I  could  see, 
thousands  of  feet  below,  the  green  valley  of 
Vosti/za  full  of  currant  trees,  whilst  -in  the 
middle  of  this  vallev  the  main  road  between 
Vostizza  and  the  various  villagt-s  wound  along 
like  a  huge  white  serpent.  High  above  us 
towered  the  wooded  nu)untains  of  Kerpini. 

Presently  Panopaulos  came  up  to  where  1  was 
standing  and  asked  me  to  give  niy  special  atten- 
tion to  what  he  was  al)OUt  to  .say. 

"Look   here,    Mr.    Spiro,"  he   continued,     '1 


sixriciCN    D.ws    wioxc.    r.kic.WDs. 


"^oi 


must  warn  you.  Do  not  atlcnipt  to  move  or  to 
s[)c;ak  ag.iinst  my  orders  or  else  you  are  a  dead 
man.  I'be  moment  anybody  sees  us  and  we 
are  discovered  I  shall  kill  you  and  then  we 
shall  flee." 

"  Well,"  I  said,  '"  will  it  he  my  fault  if  my 
father  informs  the  police  or  the  authorities  and 
they  follow  us  ?  " 

"  Never  mind,'"  he  re- 
torted, sharply  but 
politely  ;  "  I  shall  never 
be  forced  to  surrender 
you  alive.  It  is 
the  custom  of  us 
brigands,     you  ]^ 

see,  not  to  let  our 
prisoners  escape 
alive  before  we 
have  attained  our 


IJiUlc,  IntiH   lime  to  time  surveying  the  counlry 
around  liirough  his  telescope. 

I  )uring  the  day  we  saw  some  travellers  on  the 
main  road  far  below,  but  no  one  approached  our 
hitling-place.  In  the  afternoon,  however,  we 
saw  a  sportsman  hunting  with  three  dogs.  He 
came  gradually  towards  us,  and  Panopaulos, 
after  looking  at  him  with  his 
field-glasses,  remarked,  in  an 
irritated  tone  :  — 

"  Now,  here  is  some  bother 
for  us  !  If 
that  man 
comes  near 
us  I  shall 
have  to  make 


purpose, 

not  going  to  make  an 

exception  for  your 

sake." 

This  sinister  decla- 
ration    increased    my 

fears,  as  1  was  pretty  sure  my  father  would  take 
steps  to  recover  me,  and  I  actually  became 
anxious  lest  the  brigands  were  not  hiding  well 
enough. 

At  no(jn  I  ate  some  bread  and  cheese  and 
drank  some  of  the  brandy.  The  brigands,  so 
far  as  I  saw,  had  nothing  to  eat  or  drink.  The 
captain  himself  set  the  example  to  his  men,  and 
they  neither  smoked  nor  talked  nor  read.  Pano- 
paulos, indeed,  was  the  only  man  among  them 
who  could  read.     He  continued  looking  at  his 


"  IKO.M    ri.ME  TO  TIME  SURVEYING  THE  COUNTKV    AROUND 
THKOUGH    HIS   TELESCOI'E." 


a  hole  through  him,  and  that  I  should  be  sorry 
to  do." 

Fortunately  for  himself,  the  sportsman  chani^rd 
his  direction  almost  immediately  afterwards,  and 
descended  towards  the  valley  without  seeing  us. 

At  eight  o'clock  Tselepis  was  sent  out  to 
reconnoitre  the  country,  and  about  half  ' 

later  we  all  started  again  on  fool.  NN  e  i.-  i 
continually  for  eight  hour.s,  only  stopping  once 
at  a  small  streanf  from  which  we  drank  water, 
and  another  time  outsiile  a  \illaue,  win.  h  m  the 
darkness  I  failed  to  recognise.  Ib^  bread, 
cheese,  and  wine  were  brought  to  us  by  a  man, 
who  must  have  been  expe<lit  '•         _ 

At   dawn  we  reached  our  '  )"'> 

was  a  small,  rocky  hill,  in  the  middle  of  which 
there  was  a  low  cave  about  fifteen  by  twenty- 


302 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


five  feet,  strewn  with  dried  grass  and  furnished 
with  two  or  three  books  containing  stories  of 
brigands,  a  small  table  with  writing  materials 
on  it,  two  or  three  stools,  and  a  small  chest 
containing  many  articles  of  daily  use,  including 
some  knives  and  forks,  plates,  etc. 

Immediately  we  arrived  we  all  went  to  sleep 
except  'i'selepis,  who  watched.  At  noon  I  awoke 
and  made  for  the  door  to  have  a  look  round, 
but  was  not  allowed  to  do  so,  the  captain  in- 
forming me  that  I  should  not  be  allowed  to 
go  out  of  the  cave  for  that  day.  Our  food  again 
consisted  of  bread  and  cheese,  and  Panopaulos 
promised  that  it  was  the  last  day  we  should 
have  this  food.  "  From 
to  -  morrow,"  he  added, 
"you  can  ask  for  whatever 
you  like." 

In  the  afternoon  I  heard 
a  railway-train  whistle,  and 
I  realized  that  the  journey 
of  the  previous  night  was 
only  a  roundabout  course 
taken  in  order  to  deceive 
me,  as  we  had  apparently 
not  gone  very  far  away 
from  the  place  we  had 
stopped  at  the  previous 
day. 

^Vith  the  advent  of  day- 
light I  was  able  to  have  a 
good  look  at  my  captors. 
Panopaulos,  the  captain, 
was  a  squarely- built  man 
with  very  long  hair  tied  in 
a  knot  over  his  head.  He 
had  a  black  beard,  and  his 
features  were  of  the  bull- 
dog type.  He  was,  how- 
ever, well  and  neatly 
dressed,  although  he  always 
walked  in  the  (Ireek  shoes 
called  tsaronchia,  which 
facilitate  running  and  climbing  uphill.  He 
spoke  Greek  perfectly,  and  also  knew  French 
and  Italian.  He  was  an  accomplished  musician, 
often  accompanying  his  .songs  with  the  hwuto. 
He  had  rather  dignified  manners,  always  sj)oke 
with  a  sort  of  su[)eriority  to  his  companions, 
and  was  generally  polite  towards  everybody. 
When  he  was  angry,  however,  his  face  assumed 
a  most  ferocious  expression. 

Koumeliotti  was  a  tyi)ical  Greek  brigand. 
He  wore  the  usual  fouslanella  costume  of  the 
Greek  shepherds.  As  regards  'i'selepis,  he  was 
quite  another  type  of  man.  He  had  begun  his 
career  as  a  butcher,  became  a  horsestealer,  and 
was  now  going  in  for  more  serious  crimes.  He 
was  almost  always  in  an  intoxicated  condition. 


KOUMELIOTTI, 

J<'roin  a\ 


HINT   TO 


That  night  I  slept  rather  better,  and  woke 
up  early  the  next  morning  to  find  Panopaulos 
smiling  and  showing  me  an  array  of  eatables 
that  had  been  brought  in  during  the  previous 
night.  Meat,  bread,  fowls,  eggs,  cheese,  lemons, 
coffee,  sugar,  milk,  wine,  brandy,  and  tobacco 
were  there  in  abundance.  Besides  all  these 
there  was  also  a  cask  full  of  fresh  water  taken 
from  a  spring  a  little  lower  down  the  hill.  It 
was  a  Sunday  morning,  and  Panopaulos  said  we 
were  to  hold  mass  in  the  cave  ;  this  was  carried 
out  shortly,  and  after  praying  for  about  an  hour 
breakfast  was  served.  Then  Panopaulos  began 
talking  about   religion,   and  I  was  surprised  to 

discover  yet  another  quality 
in  this  extraordinary  man, 
who  combined  a  savage  and 
lawless  nature  with  a  deep 
religious  spirit.  It  was  by 
his  great  faith  in  Provi- 
dence, he  said,  that  he  had 
succeeded  in  eluding  the 
gendarmes  and  other 
officers  of  the  law  for  the 
last  seven  years. 

That  day  we  ate  boiled 
beef  and  roast  chicken,  and 
we  read  the  newspapers.  I 
was  surprised  to  find  no- 
thing concerning  my  abduc- 
tion, but  concluded  that 
my  father  had  kept  his 
own  counsel.  Afterwards 
we  played  at  cards',  and  in 
the  afternoon  I  slept  for 
about  an  hour  and  a  half 
whilst  Panopaulos  went 
away  with  his  field*-glasses, 
leaving  me  in  charge  of  his 
two  companions.  \Vhen 
he  returned  he  said  : — 

"Look  here,  Spiro,  you 
must  sit  down  and  write  a 
letter  to  your  father's  friend,  the  Prime  Minister, 
and  ask  him  to  recall  the  gendarmes  that  have 
been  sent  afier  us,  because,  as  I  told  you  before, 
if  they  find  us  you  will  be  the  first  victim." 

This  I  did  without  unnecessary  protests,  but, 
as  the  wording  of  the  document  did  not  (juite 
[)lease  him,  Panopaulos  dictated  another  to  me, 
which  ran  as  follows  :  — 

"  Rf.si'IX  ii;i)  Prksioent, —  My  position  is 
terrible.  l""rom  one  moment  to  another  my  life 
is  in  danger.  The  brigands  in  whose  hands  I 
am  will  kill  me  first  if  they  are  discovered  by 
the  troops  who  are  pursuing  them.  Please 
recall  them  till  I  am  free  and  save  my  life. — 
With  deep  respect,  the  unfortunate  captive, 
(signed)  Si'iko  Stavroulopoui.os." 


WIU)    (iAVK 
ESCATE. 


HIE   AUTHOK  A 

iriioto. 


SIXTEEN    DAYS    AMONG    BRI(;ANDS. 


.■^03 


This  I  put  in  an  envelope,  and  addressed  it 
to  "  His  Excellency  Monsieur  A.  Zaimis,  Presi- 
dent of  the  Council  of  Ministers,  Athens." 
I'anopaulos  gave  the  letter  to  the  man  that 
brou-ht  us  food  at  night  to  be  posted.  As  I 
afterwards  learnt,  it  reached  its  destination  two 
days  later. 

I  asked  I'anopaulos  if  I   might  also  write  to 
my  family  and  tell  them  where  I   was,  so   that 
they  niiglit  nut  be  anxious  about  my  fate,   but 
this    he    declined    to    allow, 
saying  that    I  would  be  per- 
mitted to  write  only  after  ten 
days    had    passed.      Then    I 
begged   him   to  let  me  write 
at    once,     picturing    with 
\ivid     colours     my     father's 
an.xiety,  and   I   succeeded  in 


gettuig 


him    to    change   his 


mind  and  say  he  would  pro- 
bably let  me  write  the  next 
day. 

Mt)nday  was  the  next  day, 
and  the  captain  got  up  early. 
After  saying  his  prayers  as 
usual  and  taking  his  morn- 
ing cup  of  coffee  he  came  to 
me  and  gave  me  a  letter  I 
was  to  copy  and  send  to  my 
father. 

I  grasped  it  eagerly,  hoping 
the  brigand's  demands  were 
not  excessive.  It  read  as 
follows :  — 

"  Vostizza. 

"  F.\THER  AND  MOTHER, — 

I  do  not  know  where  I  am 
or  where  I  came  from.  I  am 
in  the  hands  of  six  hriijands, 
from  wliom  you  will  receive 
a  separate  letter  concerning 
the  amount  of  money  required  to  buy  my  liberty. 
This  is  fixed  at  five  thousand  napoleons  (twenty- 
franc  pieces).  This  money  must  be  sent  in  gold, 
as  [)aper  money  will  not  be  acceptable.  Ihe 
letter  from  the  brigands  will  give  you  all  the 
details  regarding  the  way  the  money  must  be 
sent.  .My  dear  father,  please  comply  with  these 
demands  and  their  instructions  in  every  item, 
it  being  the  only  way  to  save  my  life,  as  I  am  in 
a  terrible  position  and  very  unfortunate. — Your 
loving  son,  Si'iko." 

Next  day  it  was  rano[)aulos's  birthday,  anil 
we  were  told  that  we  should  make  the  best  of  it. 
The  cave  was  cleaned  and  made  tidy  with  fresh 
tree-branches,  anrl  the  arch-brigand  was  even 
more  obliging  tlinii  usual.  Eood,  wine,  etc., 
were  more  plentiful  than  on  other  days,  and 
after  lunch  I'anopaulos  gave  me  a  good  [)roof  of 


iitLl.l-lS,     Tulv   TlllliJ)    UKIG.\NU 

Ftoin  a  Photo. 


his  singing  abilities.    That  day  w  ■''-■  '< 
pudding  after  dinner.     The  day 
and  on  the  next  I  wrote  a  second  letter  to  my 
parents.     The  new  letter  was  almost   i'       '     ' 
with  the  first,  except  the  adilition  of  a  fi 
asking  my  father  to  exert  all  his  influenre  with 
the  (Government  so  tiiut  the  troops  might  not 
[)ursue  us  pending  my  release. 

This  new  letter  led  me  to  guess  that  the  man 
who  brought  us  food  each  night,  and  whom  I 
was  never  able  to  see,  also 
brought  news  regarding  the 
movements  of  the  troops 
which  had  been  dispatched 
against  my  captors. 

On  that  day  I  had  another 
evidence  of  Panopaulosls 
religious  nature.  It  was  a 
\\'ednesday  —  a  fast  day  in 
the  Greek  Church— and  he 
ordered  fasting  for  himself 
and  his  companions  ;  for  me, 
however,  he  cooked  a  fowl, 
as  I  told  him  that  I  did  not 
keep  Wednesdays  and 
Fridays,  which,  according  to 
the  rites  of  the  Creek  Ortho- 
dox Church,  are  considered 
as  fasting  days. 

.\t  four  o'clock  that  after- 
noon repealed  whistles  from 
the  railway  line  below  drew 
us  out  from  the  cave,  when 
we  perceived  two  trains 
loaded  with  excursionists 
LToing  to  Calavrvla  from 
\'ostizza,  and  I  nmembered 
sorrowfully  that  I  had  in- 
tended taking  patt  in  the 
excursion  myself.  'I  hat  night, 
besides  the  food  supplies, 
we  also  received  newspapers,  and  I  was  sur- 
prised to  see  a  picture  of  myself  in  the  paper 
Empros.  However,  I  was  not  allowed  to  read 
what  was  said  about  me,  as  I'anopaulos.  '•■■■- 
undertaken  to  read  the  paper  m  my  1 
carefully  omitted  everything  connected  with  my 
case. 

I  guessed  that  the  newspaper  \^'  r.   m 
fuss  about  my  capture,   as   P. 
rather  gloomy  after  !■  n,      1  i 

morning,   however,  In  tK  . 

received  good  news  di;. 

infttrmed  that  the  troops  who  were  pursuing  us 
had  taken  ipiite  tl'  '  n. 

On    that   day  R. me    about 

noon  what  the  time  was.  I  took  out  my  watch 
anil  told  him  it  was  nearly  twelve,  but  the 
glitter   of   the  gold   watch    seemed    to   impress 


,  -I 
me 


304 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE, 


him,  and  after  [)raisiiig  its  beauty 
he  asked  me  to  make  him  a 
present  of  it. 

This  I  was  not  eager  to  do,  but 
as  during  Panopaulos's  absence  I 
was  in  the  power  of  the  other  two 
I  was  anxious  to  make  friends  of 
them,  so  as  to  get  better  treat- 
ment and  more  leave  to  walk 
about  the  cave.  So  I  gave  him 
the  watch,  and  he  was  very 
pleased.  When  Panopaulos  came 
in,  however,  it  hajipened  that,  his 
watch  "  having  gone  wrong,  he 
asked  me  the  time,  and  it  was 
then  that  I  saw  for  the  first  time 
what  a  .savage  beast  he  was 
capable  of  becoming. 

On  hearing  that  my  watch  was 
in  Roumeliotti's  possession,  Pano- 
paulos jumped  to  the  conclusion 
that  he  had  taken   it  away   from 
me,  and   without  saying  a  single 
word    he    sprang    at    the    man's 
throat,  and  would  have  choked  him,  in  his  fury, 
had    I    not    hastened    to    intervene,     assuring 
Panopaulos  that  it  was  of  my  own  free  will  that 
I  had  given    the    man    the    watch.       He    then 
released    him,    but    ordered    him     to    give    me 
back  the  watch,  and  this  was  promptly  done — 
Roumeliotti  walking  away  crestfallen. 

'Jlie  eleventh  day  was  a  critical  one  for  me. 
From  the  early  morning  Panopaulos  was  hard 
at  work  telling  me  what  to  say  when  released, 
.so  as  to  mislead  the  authorities  as  to  the 
identity  of  the  persons  who  had  abducted  nie. 
I  refused,  however,  to  say  anything  of  the  kind, 
whereupon  Panopaulos,  taking  out  his  dagger, 
said,  fiercely :  — 

"  J-?ef()re  Heaven,  I  swear  to  kill  you  the  day 
you  try  to  set  the  authorities  on  my  track  ;  and 
not  only  that,  but  I  will  also  blow  up  your 
father's  house  with  dyriamite."  Roumeliotti 
came  to  my  a.ssistance,  however,  by  assuring  his 
chief  that  "  the  boy  will  do  everything  you  tell 
him  to." 

At  lunch  that  day  Panopaulos  was  very 
quiet,  and  I  remembered  it  was  the  eve  of  the 
last  day  allowed  my  fnllier  for  the  [)avment  of 
the  rans(jm  of  a  hundred  thousand  francs.  The 
rest  of  that  miserable  Sunday  passed  away  as 
usual.  The  morrow  also  passed  away,  and  slill 
the  money  was  not  forthcoming,  and  I  began  to 
grow  very  anxious  about  my  ultimate  fate. 
However,  at  t,  p.m.  on  the  Tuesday  the  ransom 
bearers  were  seen  from  afar  by  Pano|)aulos"s 
telescope,  and  l"sele[)is  and  Koumcliotti  started 
to  meet  them. 

The  bearers  were  to  meet  the  briuands  some 


'  WriHOUT   SAVING   A   SINGLE   WORD    HE   SPRANG   AT   THR 
man's   IHROAT." 


twelve  miles  from  our  hiding  -  jjlace,  and  the 
counting  of  the  money  was  to  be  carried  out 
there,  so  that  we  were  not  to  expect  them  back 
till  early  the  next  day  (\\'ednesday).  After  the}- 
left  we  dined,  and  talked  till  about  9  p.m.,  when 
we  went  to  sleep,  I  fervently  hoping  that  that 
tinie  next  day  I  would  be  free. 

On  retiring  for  the  night  Panopaulos  re- 
marked :  "  I  hope,  Spiro,  for  your  sake  that  the 
news  the  men  will  bring  us  to-morrow  will  be 
satisfactory,  and  that  your  father  has  sent  me  all 
I  asked  him  to." 

"  I  expect  111,'  has  done  his  best  within  the 
time  allotted  him,"'  I  replied. 

"  W'c  shall  see,"  Panc)])aulos  added,  and 
turned  away. 

At  last,  at  live  o'clock  on  Wednesday  morning, 
the  two  brigands  returned,  each  bearing  a  heavy 
bag  on  his  shoulders,  containing  my  father's 
gold.  When  Panopaulos  saw  his  companions 
returning  with  tiie  money  his  features  lighted 
up,  and  he  seemed  much  relieved. 

"  Welcome  "  he  cried  to  his  men,  as  soon 
as  they  were  within  earshot,  "llow  did  you 
fare?" 


SlXri:i.N     l)A\b    AMONii     l;Kl(iANL).S. 


305 


His  good  humour,  howcvL-r,  was  unfortunately 
of  short  duration,  for  instead  of  five  tiiousand 
twenty-franc  pieces  there  were  only  four  thousand 
nine  hundred  and  lourleen.  I'anopaulus's  wrath 
flamed  up  at  once.  His  face  became  white  with 
anger,  his  liands  treml)led,  anil  he  was  unable 
to  stand,  but  sat  down  speechless,  looking  :.t  me 
askance  the  while  1  looked  at  him,  thinking  that 
my  last  hour  had  arrived,  for  I  never  expected 
he  would  spare  me,  so  excited  was  he.  When 
he  recovered  his  speech  and  some  [)art  of  his 
self-possession  he  said,  addressing  me : — 

"  What    is    this,   Spiro  ?     Your  father   seems 


and  walked  away.    It  was  in  vain  thai  ved 

him,  telling  him  that  my  father  must  have  been 
unable  to  i)rocure  any  irore  gold,  in  view  of  the 
usual  currency  being  in  j)aper  money.  It  was 
useless  speaking  to  him,  as  he  did  not  even 
seem  to  listen  to  me. 

Shortly  afterwarils,  however,  he  came  back 
and  announced  that  he  had  changed  his  mind, 
and  that  he  did  not  wish  to  soil  his  hands  with 
the  blood  of  a  [)lutocrat.  Instead,  he  h.id 
decided  to  keep  me  for  another  fortnight  and 
then  ask  for  four  thousand  pounds  n)ore  lo  be 
sent  within  a  week  from  that  date. 


WHAT    IS   1  Ills,    M'IKO?" 


to  think  that  he  can  play  with  me,  but  I  will 
prove  to  him  (juite  the  contrary."  He  slop[)ed 
to  catch  his  breath  and  then  continued  :  "  I  will 
pay  him  with  the  same  money  !  I  will  cut  you 
up  into  five  thousand  pieces  and  send  him  all 
but  eighty-six.  And  now  you  can  say  your 
prayers  till  noon." 

With  thi-i  he  liuhted  a  cigarette  and  tiuii  rose 

Vvl.  .\.-39. 


1  i;lii  i  liHJi^  • 

fell  down  weej 
rather  than  wait  for  ai 
I    told    Panopaulos. 
from  anxiety  and  sus] 
I  had  been  in  cafJtiv 
more  w. 
me  wiilii >ui.  1  .111. ., 


3O0 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


At  4  p.m.  the  brigand  gave  me  paper  and  I 
wrote  a  letter  to  my  father  at  his  dictation,  in 
which  I  informed  him  that  owing  to  the 
deficit  in  the  ransom  he  was  to  send  another 
hundred  thousand  francs  in  gold.  The  letter 
was  dated  fourteen  days  ahead,  and  the  money 
must  be  forthcoming  within  a  week  of  that  date. 

Fanopaulos  took   the  letter   and  gave    it  to 
Roumeliotti  to  post.     While  passing  in  front  of 
me  on  his  way  out 
the   latter   whis- 
pered, very  low :  — 

"Spiro,  you  are 
in  a  very  dangerous 
position.  The 
captain  is  very 
angry.  We  are 
going  away  this 
evening  and  will 
return  in  two  days. 
Think  and  act !  " 
Saying  this  he  put 
his  finger  on  his 
lips,  motioning  me 
to  be  silent,  and 
went  slowly  away. 

At  the  moment, 
so  numb  were  my 
senses  from  the 
suspense  1  had 
undergone,  I  did 
not  grasp  the  exact 
meaning  of  his 
words ;  but  when 
evening  came  I 
saw  Panopaulos 
and  Roumeliotti 
getting  ready  for  a 
journey.  I  saw 
them  take  the  two 
bags  of  gold  on 
their  shoulders, 
and  then  they 
went  away,  leaving 
me  with  'i'selepis, 
who  was  told  in 
my  presence  to 
keejj  a  watchful 
lye  on  me  till  the 
next  day,  w  h  e  n 
they  would  come  back.  It  was  then  that  I 
understood  Roumeliotti's  words,  which  ofcour.se 
meant  thai  I  should  ulih/e  the  opi)ortunity  thus 
afforded  me  to  escape. 

That  niglit,  however,  action  was  well-nigh 
impossible,  as  Tsclepis  did  not  .sleep  during  the 
whole  night,  and  I  was  reluctantly  compelled  to 
postpone  my  attempt  till  the  morrow. 

The  next  day,  in  the  afternoon,    I  had  b(;ttcr 


JUMPED    DOWN    IKdM    UOCK     1 0    ROCK 


luck.  The  brigand,  relieved  of  his  chief's 
presence,  made  a  heavier  dinner  than  usual, 
taking  with  my  help  treble  the  amount  of  wine 
he  usually  drank.  Its  effects  were  inmiediately 
manifested,  as  without  a  moment's  hesitation, 
after  dinner  was  over,  he  went  to  sleep. 

And  then  I  considered  my  chance  had 
arrived.  I  lost  no  time.  It  was  at8.  lop.m. 
that  I  darted  down   the  little   path  that  led  for 

eight  miles  to  the 
main  road.  I  soon 
realized  that  this 
was  not  my  safest 
route,  as  the  two 
other  brigands 
might  be  on  their 
way  back,  when  I 
should  fnid  myself 
in  a  worse  position 
than  ever.  So  I 
decided  to  aban- 
don the  path  and 
take  to  the  wooded 
part  of  the  hill  on 
the  right.  After 
going  to  the  right 
for  half  an  hour  I 
began  descending 
the  mountain  fioni 
a  {)lace  no  human 
l)Ling  had  passed 
before. 

I  jumped  down 
from  rock  to  rock 
and  from  bush  to 
bush,  putting  aside 
branches  or  tearing 
them  down  with 
my  hands  to  force 
a  way,  until,  owing 
to  the  darkness, 
fatigue,  and  my 
excitement,  I  fell 
down,  unable  to 
move  a  liiub. 

Thus  1  had  a 
slight  rest  of  about 
fifteen  minutes, 
a  n  d  I  h  e  n  c  o  n  - 
tinuetl  my  arduous 
journey.  At  last,  after  two  and  a  half  hours  of 
this,  I  reached  the  railway  line  and  made  direct 
for  the  nearest  signal-box,  whose  lights  I  could 
see  half  a  mile  away  in  the  distance.  There  I 
was  fortunate  enough  to  meet  a  pea.sant,  who  was 
so  good  as  to  accompany  me  to  the  nearest  rail- 
way station,  Zachlorou,  where  I  told  the  horrified 
station-master  who  I  was,  and  asked  him  to  wire 
for  a  special  train  to  convey  me  to  Vostizza. 


SIXIKLN     DAYS    AMONd     I'.KIOANlXS. 


307 


This  he  immediately  did,  although  lie  had 
some  ditirtculty  in  rocognisinjj;  mc  owing  to  mv 
totally  thangeil  appcurant  e,  and  he  also  did  his 
best  to  set  my  mind  at  ease  regarding  my  father's 
healtli.  The  ofificial  furthermore  wired  to  the 
(jovernment,  the  authorities  at  Vostiz/a,  and  my 
father,  announcing  my  escape. 

Finally  the  train  arrived,  and  with  it  the 
Procureur  du  Roi  from  \'ostizza,  who  pressed 
me  with  (juestions,  which  I  could  scarcely 
answer  owing  to  my  exhausted  condition.  At 
last,  however,  at  three  the  next  morning,  we 
arrived  at  \'ostizza,  where  I  joined  my  father  and 
my  relations  once  more,  and  my  sufferings  in 
the  clutches  of  the  brigands  seemed  like  some 
terrible  nightmare. 

Owing  to  the  great  sensation  caused  through- 
out Greece  by  the  audacious  capture  of  Mr.  Stav- 
roulopoulos,  the  (jOvernment  decided  to  take 
exceptional  measures  to  arrest  the  three 
brigands  concerned,  and  to  this  end  the 
Supreme  Commander  of  the  Gendarmerie, 
Colonel  Staikos,  was  sent  to  the  scene,  and 
five  hundred  troops,  including  some  two  hun- 
dred cavalry,  were  ordered  to  join  him  at  Patras. 
Colonel  Staikos,  in  an  audience  he  had  of  the 
King  shortly  before  leaving  on  his  mission,  was 
earnestly  requested  by  His  Majesty  to  do  his 
very  best  to  arrest  Panopaulos  and  his  band. 
The  Government  furthermore  issued  a  procla- 
mation placing  a  price  of  ten  thousand  francs 
on  his  head. 

These  measures  made  the  position  of  Pano- 
paulos and  his  companions  very  uncomfortable, 
and  they  decided  that  it  would  be  best  to 
divide  the  ransom-money  and  separate  until  an 
0})portunity  occurred  to  escape  abroad. 

'I'en  days  afterwards,  however,  information 
was  given   to   the   effect    that   one  of  the  trio. 


Tselcpis,  had  been  seen  souj'  uih 

of    Vosti/za    going    Knvards    a  i    a 

capable    officer   with    one    police      ..  was 

immediately  dispatched  to  follow  him.  The 
gendarmes  were  itiformed  that  I'sdepis  hid 
during  the  daytime  and  marched  at  night.  So 
on  the  following  night,  having  waited  for  some 
time  at  a  cerUiin  pathway,  they  saw  him  coming 
along  slowly  in  the  moonlight.  As  soon  as  he 
was  near  enough  the  officer  darted  forward, 
stopped  a  few  paces  from  him,  and  ordered  him 
to  stop.  Tselepis,  far  from  surrendering  (|uietly, 
brought  his  gun  down  from  his  shoulder  and 
fired  at  the  officer's  head.  The  other  police- 
man, however,  came  to  the  rescue,  catching  hold 
of  the  brigand  from  behind  by  the  arms.  The 
rest  was  comparatively  easy.  Tselepis  was 
quickly  disarmed,  and  was  made  to  march  to 
the  nearest  jjolice  post. 

Panopaulos  and  Roumeliotti  at  that  time  had 
not  been  heard  of  since  Mr.  Stavroulopoulos's 
escape,  and  a  fortnight  more  passed  without  any 
news,  although  troops  had  been  scouring  the 
whole  of  the  country  round,  night  and  day. 
The  authorities  were  both  puzzled  and  anxious 
lest  the  brigands  had  got  clean  away.  At  last, 
however,  some  information  as  to  their  where- 
abouts was  given  by  a  person  who  wished  to 
keep  his  identity  secret,  and  the  two  outlaws 
were  surrounded  and  captured   in  a   h  t 

Patras.  Here  they  had  been  living  in  <  . 
since  Stavroulopoulos's  escape,  waiting  for  an 
opportunity  to  escape  into  Turkish  territor)-. 
Ihe  whole  of  the  money  paid  by  way  of  ransom 
was  subsequently  found  hidden  near  the  famous 
monastery  of  Mega  Spilaion.  The  photograplis 
of  the  brigands  which  accompany  this  narrative 
were  specially  taken  for  I  mk  W  idk  Woki.d 
M.vGAZiNE  in  Patras  gaol,  by  the  courteous  per- 
mission of  the  Minister  of  the  Interior. 


A  Seri  Sleeping-Place— The  Brandon  County  Tornado— The  "  Feria  "  at  Seville— The  "  Bells  "  of 
Bhooga— A  Travelling  Bridge — The  Cart  Before  the  Horse,  etc.,  etc. 


X  Tiburon,  a  small  i-sland  in  the  (3ulf 
of  California,  between  the  penin.sula 
of  Lower   California  and  the  main- 
land  of 
Mexico, 


'ive  the  Seri  Indians, 
the  wildest  and  most 
primitive  American 
aborigines  extant. 
Many  miles  of  terri- 
tory in  Mexico  have 
never  yet  been  tra- 
versed by  white  men ; 
especially  is  this  the 
case  in  the  north- 
western section  of 
the  country.  The 
mountain  fastnesses 
there  baffle  the  forces 
of  the  Mexicans,  and 
make  the  mainten- 
ance of  their  original 
territory  an  easy 
matter  for  the  In 
dians.  Tiburon, 
naturally  protected 
from  the  invader  by 
water,  like  the  neigh- 
bouring mainland, 
has  successfully  kept 
out  the  white  man. 
I'or  twenty  or  twenty- 
five  years  the  Seris 
have  allowed   oul- 


INUIANS   SLEKI' 


siders  to  Uuul  in  small  parties  for  a  period 
of  twelve  hours  only.  Anyone  who  remains 
longer  than  that  time  never  returns.      How  they 

are  disposed  of  is  a 
matter  of  surmise, 
for  the  Indians  will 
answer  no  (juestions 
concerning  them. 
One  man  only,  a  re- 
presentative of  the 
United  States  Bureau 
of  Ethnology,  suc- 
ceeded in  making 
their  friendship  and 
lived  among  them  for 
several  weeks.  The 
climate  is  rather 
warm,  and  there- 
fore the  Seris  con- 
struct remarkable 
sleeping  -  [places  of 
])laited  wicker-work. 
The  accompanying 
illustration  shows 
one  of  these  queer 
"  sleejMng  -  places," 
intended  for  the  occu- 
pation of  one  person. 
It  is  an  odd-shaped 
contrivance  of  bas- 
ket-work, with  a  hole 
at  the  top,  through 
which  the  occupier 
crawls  at  night. 


\riwto. 


ODDS    AND    l.NDS. 


o'-V 


J- rout  a\ 


A   DESTRUCTIVE   CVCLON'E   IN    MANITOBA. 


Our  readers  will  remember  the  striking  article 
on  tornadoes  which  a[)peared  in  our  January 
number.  We  reproduce  herewith  a  very  im- 
pressive snap-shot  taken  on  9th  July,  1900, 
in  Brandon  County,  Manitoba,  showing  a 
destructive  cyclone  which  visited  that  place. 
On  the  farm  seen  in  the  foreground  a  liorse 
and  eiiiht  siieep 
were  killed,  some 
of  the  poor  ani- 
mals being  lifted 
highintheairand 
hurled  an  im- 
mense distance 
along  the  path  of 
the  cyclone.  For- 
tunately, we  in 
this  country  do 
nut  ex[)erience 
these  terrible 
visitations,  but, 
even  if  we  did, 
it  is  doubtful 
whether  anybody 
could  be  found 
s  u  f  f  i  c  i  e  n  1 1  >• 
plucky  to  take  a 
snap-sh(;t  as  the 
cyclone  a  p  - 
proarhed. 

'J"he    "  I-eii.i 
at    Seville,    held 


every  . 

April, 

out  Sp 

bcrs   of  \isitors  ; 

parts    of    the 

Well  as  from  i;. 

Europe.     'I  his  y< 

mous  but  good -hi: 

and  orderly  crowd 

the  vast  open   &^ 

the  outskirts  of  the  town, 

where  the  usual  f    '        , 

for  recreation  arc  

These  are,  perhaps,  not 
quite  up-to-date,  but,  on 
the  other  hand,  the 
"  leria  "'  is  a  \ery  char.ic- 
teristic  spectacle,  main  <>f 
the  old  .\  '  ' 
toms  and  '  g 

seen.  'ihe  municipality 
does  evtrrylliing  in  its 
power  to  make  the  event 
an  attractive  one  by  means 
of  decoration.s,  illumina- 
tions, fireworks,  .  '  •'  • 
voting    of    a    su  1 

prize  for  the  best-decorated  pavilion.  The  prize 
was  awarded  this  year  to  the  Kine  Arts  Clu' 
an  excellently  got  up  imitation  of  a  ty|)ical  A!.,... 
lusian  country  inn.  Horse-dealers,  fortune-tellers, 
beggars,  and  professional  dancers  swarm  at  the 
fair,  which  is  packed  with  a  typical  Seville  crowd. 
Many  private  families,  in  aildition  to   the  clul'S. 


[/■ 


3IO 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


The  natives,  interrupted  in  their  morning's  fish- 
ing, came  alongside  in  their  frail  canoes,  and  one 
of  these  boats  had  two  young  sharks  on  board. 
They  appear  in  the  picture  uncommonly  like  tor- 
pedoes. The  steward  lowered  a  lump  of  ice, 
wrapped  in  a  cloth,  over  to  the  natives,  its  in- 
tense cold  causing  them  much  surprise  when  they 
touched  it.  Such  a  marvel  must  be  shared  with 
the  rest  of  the  tribe,  so  they  started  off  for  the 
shore  to  exhibit  the  curious  thing.  Their  astoiiish- 


From  a\      the  "bells"  ok  a  church  in  Uganda 


\_Photo. 


have  pavilions  in  the  fair  grounds,  where  Spanish 
dances  (more  particularly  the  graceful  "  Sevilla- 
nas  ")  are  held  at  night  in  view  of  the  public. 

Missionaries  in  the  wilds  have  to  put  up  with 
a  good  many  makeshifts  for  the  church  fittings 
and  appointments  which  are  customary  at  home. 
The  above  photograph — sent  by  a  Church 
Missionary  Society  official  at  Bhooga,  on  the 
borders  of  Uganda— shows  the  church  "  bells  " 
of  that  hamlet.  Proper  bells  are,  of  course, 
unprocurable  in  this  remote  region,  and  there- 
fore three  native  drums  have  been  hung  on  a 
tree  and,  beaten  in  a  particular  manner, 
summon  the 
people  to  church. 
The  "bell- 
ringers"  are 
very  proud  of 
their  office. 

The  photo, 
here  shown  was 
taken  from  the 
deck  of  a  steamer 
which  recently 
called  at  Arorai, 
one  of  the  Gil- 
bert group  of 
islands.  'I'his  is- 
land is  rarely 
visited  by  steam- 
ers, and  tiie 
arrival  of  the  big 
ship  was  quite 
an  event  among 
the    inhabitants. 


F>  0)11  a\ 


ONE    KESULT   OF    A    DROUGHT. 


[P/lOtO. 


graph 
a  b  o  v  e 


i'rom  a] 


OlUbtKI     ISLANDIiKS   VlblTlNG   A    blliA.MliK. 


ment  on  landing,  when  they  discovered  that  only 
the  cloth  was  left,  was  perfectly  ludicrous. 

The  photo- 
show  n 
comes 
from  a  remote 
district  in  South 
Australia,  and 
illustrates  one  of 
the  many  dis- 
tressing phases 
of  the  terrible 
droughts  which 
periodically 
afllict  llie  coun- 
try. The  animals 
seen  in  the  fore- 
ground are  rab- 
bits wliich  have 
died  of  thirst, 
and  their  bodies 
cover  the  ground 
in  thousands  for 
a      considerable 


OhDS    AND    ENDS. 


distance.     The   fence  seen  in   the   picture  is  a         of  a  gigantic  redwood  tree.    I  hi     • 

"  rabbit-proof"  one,  and  was  put  up  expressly  to         in  an  aUiiost  perfect  slate  of  petni  ,i 

keep  the   rabbits  away  from  the  raihvay-station         at  Klorrissant,  not  far  from  the  great  >- 

ducing     region     of  Cnppic 


buiUhngs,  over  which  they 
would  have  swarmed  in  over- 
whelming numbers  in  search 
of  water. 

Mr.  Peter  Gruber,  better 
known,  perhaps,  as  "  Rattle- 
snake Pete,"  of  Rochester, 
New  \"ork  State,  is  the  only 
individual  in  the  world  who 
owns  acompletesuit  of  clotiies 
made  out  of  the  skins  of 
rattlesnakes.  Our  photograph 
depicts  this  interesting  indi- 
vidual in  his  strange  costume. 
Not  only  are  the  coat,  waist- 
coat, trousers,  and  hat  made 
out  of  this  unique  material, 
but  even  the  tie,  the  buttons, 
and  the  walking-stick  are  com- 
posed of  the  same  skins.  In 
the  case  of  the  stick  the  back- 
bones of  the  rattlers  were 
called  into  requisition,  in- 
geniously fastened  together, 
and  then  covered  with  the 
skins  of  dead  snakes.  Mr. 
Gruber  also  possesses  a  belt, 
a  small  bag,  and  a  pair  of 
shoes,  all  wrought  out  of  the 
skinsand  Ijones  of  thesedeadly 
snakes.  Hundreds  of  rattlers  were  sacrificed  in 
collecting  the  necessary  material,  and  the  suit 
re()resents  an 
outlay  of  about 
^I  GO.  Not 

many  months 
ago  Mr.  (]ruber 
gave  a  rattle- 
snake banfjuet, 
the  courses  be- 
ing composed  of 
rat  1 1  esnakes, 
roasted,  boiled, 
and  stewed  in 
various  forms, 
so  as  to  make 
tempting  dishes, 
and  the  feast  was 
declared  to  be  a 
great  success. 

Our  next 
photo,  shows 
one  of  Colo- 
rado's greatest 
curiosities  :  the 
petrified    stumj) 


/.'is 

>*4 

I^r         ^^^^hnl^!' 

9a^^ 

^D^K^ 

&'. 

l;.\l  ll,l:^,^.\KE    I'tlli        IN    ill-    ....        KIS  Rl'IT. 
EVKN    THF.   WALKING-STICK    IS   MADE   OF    RATI  LE- 
FrOlU  d\  SNAKE   BONES.  [PhotO. 


i- )  Oiil  a\ 


OVlil;   4uQ   TU>i. 


C'reek,   Colorado.      Although 
ever   since   the   first  explora- 
tion of  this  State  numlM,-rless 
people  have  taken  specimens 
from   this  slump  aggregating 
many  tons,  it  is  still  estimated 
to  weigh  fully  440  tons.     To 
give  a  better  idea  of  its  size 
it  may  be  well  10  slate  that  it 
is  20ft.  in  diameter  and   toft. 
high.    There  have  Ixen  many 
attem[>ts    to    dig    it    up  and 
place  it  upon  exhibition,  the 
last  being  a  scheme  to  exhibit 
it  at  the  greal   Hx()osition  at 
St.  Louis  in  1904.     Owing  to 
its  great  weight,  however,  this 
had  to  be  abandoned,  and  it 
stiil   lies   half- buried   in  the 
ground  at  Florrissant,  as  there 
are  no   railway  -  cars  capable 
of  carrying  anywhere  near  its 
Weight.   What,  perhaps,  makes 
it  more  of  a  curiosity   is   the 
fact  that   this  Rocky    Moun- 
tain   region    is   a  country  of 
small  trees,    and    that    there 
are  no  giant  redwoods  within 
a    thousand     miles     of    this 
stump  —  which  goes  to  show  that  Nature   has 
changed    the  entire   vegetable   growth   of   this 

section,  as  no- 
thing requiring 
the  semi-tro- 
pical heat  of  a 
redwood  tree 
would  grow  at 
this  altitude 
now. 

Mr.  Penney, 
o  I  Denver, 
Colorado,  is  a 
man  of  original 
ideas.  :  cs 

as  f o  I . 
"The  a. 
fvinying 

which  fe 

.ind  1  .inatiged 
for  the  *  i-esti- 
val  of  Mountain 
and  Plain,' 
which    is    held 


.12 


THE    WIDE    WORM)    .MAGAZINE. 


"1IIK    CAKT    BKFOUE     I  ME    flllUSl-; 

Froin  a\ 


CUKIOUS     lUUX-OUl'    WAS 
FETE. 


annually  in  Denver.  We  took  our  buggy  and 
fixed  the  shafts  on  the  rear  axle,  while  our 
steering-gear  was  attached  to  the  front  axle. 
The  horse  was  then  harnessed  into  the  shafts 
with  his  head  towards  the  vehicle,  and  the 
reins  led  through  rings  on  his  harness  and  then 
back  into  the  buggy,  so  that,  when  we  wanted  to 
stop,  all  we  had  to  do 
was  to  pull  on  the  reins. 
We  also  had  a  halter  on 
the  horse,  so  that  when 
we  wished  him  to  start 
we  could  just  pull  it. 
My  wife  managed  the 
horse  and  I  did  the 
steering.  We  went 
through  the  city  in  the 
great  {)arnde,  and  were 
awarded  the  first  prize 
of  2odols.  and  two  gold 
medals  for  '  meritorious 
dis|»lay.'  When  the 
'  Pike  County  Horse- 
mobile  '  came  along  in 
front  of  the  grand  stand 
we  could  hear  nothing 
but  the  applause  and 
laughter  of  the  15,000 
people  there  assembled. 
1  he  whole  affair  only  cost 
n«,  about  5dols.  to  get  up." 


Our  readers  may  re- 
member the  curious 
sect  known  as  the 
Doukhobors,  who,  on 
their  expulsion  from 
Southern  Russia, 
emigrated  to  Canada, 
where  large  areas  of 
land  in  Assiniboia 
were  placed  at  their 
disposal  by  the  Go- 
vernment. These 
people  have  a  num- 
ber of  curious  ideas, 
one  of  them — which 
led  to  their 
Russia — being 
military  service  is 
wrongful.  Our  photo- 
graph illustrates  an- 
other of  their  re- 
markable beliefs. 
.\llhough  they  pos- 
sess good  horses, 
they  claim  that  it  is 
wicked  to  work  any  four-footed  animal,  and 
so  they  do  all  their  transport  work  themselves. 
As  the  Canadian  authorities  will  not  allow  the 
women  to  haul  the  waggons  the  men  are 
compelled  to  do  it  themselves,  which  will, 
perhaps,  bring  home  to  them  in  time  the  absur 
dity  of  their  objection  to  using  horses. 


leaving 
that 


AUAKUI-.O     A    l-Kl/K    A  I     .\  N     AMI-,KK_A,\ 

\Photo. 


HIE    l)(lUKlll);i()|(,s    DO    NOT    UELlUVIi    IN     .MAKIN(,    A.M.MAl.S    WOKU,    SO     UlbV    ILl.L     I  111  1 1;    UAHiC) 
From  a  /'/loto.  by]  TlllC.MSr.LVES.  [/.   7'.  Pa/iiie>: 


I   si.ii'i'i.i)  oviiK    iiii;   SHIP'S  sidh   and   down    riii     koh  .  ■ 


(see  page  320.) 


The  W'idI'  WOki.d  Macazim:. 


\'ol.  X. 


FEBRUARY,    1903. 


No.  5?. 


Mow  Wc  Escaped  From  Ceylon. 

Bv  Ex-F'ii:i.D-CoRNKT  Wii.iiA.M   11.  Sn  VN,  01    IIi-ii  r,i<(>\,  Okant.k  Rivf.r  Coi.onv. 

This  remarkable  story  is  told  by  the  leader  of  the  only  five  Boer  prisoners  of  war  who  ever  escaped 
from  Ceylon,  and  throws  some  curious  sidelights  on  Continental  Anglophobia.  The  narrative  was 
sent  to  us  by  Lieutenant  R.  D.  Barbor,  of  the  Army  Service  Corps.  Writing  from  Stellenbosch. 
Cape  Colony,  Lieutenant  Barbor  says  :  '•  The  following  facts  were  communicated  to  me  at  Porterville 
Road,  Cape  Colony,  by  Mr.  William  Steyn,  one  of  the  Orange  Free  State  burghers  who  came  in 
at    the   declaration    of  peace.      Mr.   Steyn    had    been  an  officer  on  General   Smuts's  staff,  and  gave    mc 

permission  to  write  down  and  publish  his  story." 


^Mm 


(  )  tell  you  ihc  whole  story  of  our 
rsc.ipc  from  Ceylon  and  the  many 
lailures  we  endured,  I  had  better 
liegin  at  the  time  1  was  captured. 
It  was  at   Rhenoster  River.     I   had 

hec-n  with  (leneral  I)e  Wet  at  the  burning  of  the 

mails  at  Roodeval,  and  set  the  first  light  there. 
I  was  at  that  time  an  acting  field-cornet  of  the 

Orange  Free  State,  and  had 

been  ordered  by  the  gener;il 

to  hold  an  outlying  position 

iigainst    Methuen's  and   Kit- 
chener's advance.      Deserted 

by  our  horse-holders,  we  were 

surrounded    by    the    British, 

and  there  was  nothing  for  it 

but  to  surrender.     This  was 

on  June  i  ith,  1900. 

\Ve  were   taken    direct   to 

Kroonstad,    and    thence    to 

Bloemfontein,aiid  while  there 

we  were  always  on  the  look- 
out for  a   chance  of  escape. 

.After  a   few  days  at  Bloem- 

fonteui  we  travelled  down  to 

Cape  'I'own,  from  whence  we 

marched  to(  ireenj)oint  ( 'am[>. 

surrounded    by  a  guard  and 

followed  by  a  grinning,  gaping 

crowd.       At    ("ireeni)oint   we 

were  placed  twelve  \n  a  tent, 

but  on  the  whole  were  very 

comfortable,    and    from    the 

moment  we  arrived  there  we 

commenced  plot  ting  to  escape. 

I, ft  me  describe  the  camp  for  the  benefit  of 

those   who  have  never   been   prisoners   of  war. 

There  was  a  barbed-wire  fence  all  round  us  as 

an  inner  line  of  defence,  and  beyond  that  again 

a  high  fence  made  of  strips  of  galvanized  iron. 

so  that  it  could  l)e  seen  through.     On  top  of 

this  there  were  several  strands  of  barbed  wire. 
The  space  between  these  two  fences  was  railed 

the  "danger  space,"  and  any   prisoner  of  war 

Vol.  .\.— 40. 


niK  AL  rilDK,  I-.X-IIKI-Il-CDHNKI  WII.I.IAM   H.SIhV.\. 

I-ioitt  a  Photo.  f>y  A.  .Ituriu'H. 


seen  there  was  liable  to  be  shot  without  wa|-ning. 
There  was  a  third  fence  outside  these  two  for 
the  purpose  of  kee[)ing  out  the  public.  'I'hc 
.sentries  were  placed  on  high  platform.s,  and  al 
night  the  whole  place  was  lit  up  with  electric 
arcs,  making  it  as  bright  as  day.  To  climb 
the  wires  was  virtually  impossible,  so  we  went 
to  work  in  another  wav. 

We  resolved  to  start 
tunnelling.  I  dare  say  your 
Royal  Engineers  would  have 
smiled  at  our  efforts,  but  our 
only  tools  were  our  tin  dinner- 
plates,  dinner  knives,  and  our 
pocket-knives,  which  we  had 
been  allowed  to  keep. 

Our  first  effort  was  from  the 
floor  of  the  tent  in  which  we 
were  sleeping.  Every  tent 
had  a  wooden  floor  in  four 
parts,  and  one  of  these  [urts 
we  took  up  when  all  was 
quiet.  The  hole  was  made 
so  as  to  barely  let  in  a  man 
at  the  mouth,  but  it  widened 
as  it  went  downwards,  just 
sufficiently  to  allow  one  to 
kneel  ami  commence  tunnel- 
ling.   I  have  done  much  hard 

work  in  my  life,  but  i-   "' 

I  think,  to  equal  tli' 
of  digging  in  that  tunnel,  so 
hot  and  (lose  th.''  '! 

hardly  breatiie.    1 
and  the  wild  fear  of »: 
at  every  sound  were  terrible.     Only  iho.sc 
have  tried   it  can  realize  what   it  means.     ' 
working    hours   were    from    10   p.m.    till   a' 
4  a.m.,  and  we  took  it  in  turns  to^ig.  while  the 
others  took  the  clay  and  put  it  in  their  pockets, 
and  one  watched. 

Our  greatest  difficulty  was  gelling  rid  of  ihis 
clay.     There  were  in  '" 

watrh^aiul  they  would    ••  ■ 


3i6 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


lltUt    WAS   NOTHINCi    VUK    II     liVi    1 0   SUKREM>1J(. 


was  happening  if  they  had  seen  us  with  the  clay  ; 
but  we  were  allowed  to  wander  about  as  much 
as  we  wished,  and  at  night  time  we  used  to  stroll 
about  with  the  clay  in  our  pockets.  In  these 
latter  we  made  holes,  so  that  the  clay  poured 
quietly  out  all  over  the  place. 

livery  day  our  wooden  floors  were  taken  up 
and  the  ground  ihs|)ccted,  so  that  it  became 
necessary  for  us  to  carefully  conceal  our  handi- 
work. This  we  did  by  placing  a  big  box  in  the 
hole,  and  on  top  of  that  a  half  bag  of  sand 
which  just  reached  the  level  of  the  ground 
Over  this  we  spread  the  soil,  smoothing  it  down 
like  tiie  rest  of  the  floor.  We  had  completed 
ab(nit  twenty  yards  of  this  tunnel  when  one  day 
the  tents  were  moved  and  our  labour  was  all  in 
vain  !  I  dare  say  that  tlic  tunnel  is  there  to  this 
day,  with  many  others. 

Discouraged,  but    nothing  daunted,  we  deter- 


mined to  commence 
afresh.  Warned  by  our 
last  failure,  we  commenced 
the  new  tunnel  from  the 
lavatory.  As  this  was  full 
of  buckets,  we  had  no 
difficulty  in  getting  rid  of 
the  earth  this  time,  but 
just  as  we  were  on  the  eve 
of  success  a  man  named 
1  )e  Jongh  i)layed  us  false 
and  reported  the  tunnel  to 
the  camp  authorities. 

Our  third  and  last  effort 
was  started  from  the  cook- 
house, but  before  we  had 
been  two  days  at  work 
someone  again  reported 
us.  Of  the  authorities  we 
never  had  any  fear :  it  was 
those  who  were  our  own 
kith  and  kin  who  were 
always  our  worst  enemies. 
After  these  three  failures 
we  decided  there  was  some 
fate  against  our  escajjing 
by  tunnelling,  and  we  cast 
about  for  some  other  plan 
of  campaign. 

'J'here  were  three  of  us 
wlio  were  particular  friends 
— Roos,  Botha,  and  my- 
self Roos  and  I  were  old 
school  friends  in  Heilbron, 
and  Botha  is  a  son  of  the 
magistrate  of  Philippolis. 
One  day  Roos  discovered 
that  at  one  place  under 
the  galvanized  iron  fence 
the  ground  sank  a  little 
and  the  hole  had  been  filled  up  witli  stones. 
This  was,  however,  in  the  "danger  space,"  and 
to  be  seen  there  meant  certain  death.  \\'e  tossed 
up,  therefore,  for  w  ho  should  have  the  hazardous 
job  of  removing  the  stones  and  leaving  a  hole  to 
crawl  out  through.  Roos  lost.  He  managed 
to  cross  the  space  unobserved,  and  after  a  time 
that  seemed  to  us  an  eternity  he  crawled  back 
to  tell  us  that  there  were  two  wires  across  the 
\)]iu\;  and  these  would  have  to  be  cut  before  we 
could  get  through.  Roos  bad  iiad  enough 
danger,  so  we  tossed  again,  and  this  time  1  losi. 
There  were  a  number  of  our  men  in  the 
camp  who  were  occupying  their  time  with  fancy 
wire  work,  and  from  one  of  these  I  tried  to  get 
the  loan  of  a  pair  of  pliers,  but  he  susjjecled  my 
purpose  and  refused  to  lend  them.  However,  1 
managed  to  borrow  a  file  from  a  man  who  was  a 
jeweller  by  trade,  and  .set  to  work. 


now   \VK   escaim:i)   ikom   ci-.ni.on. 


It  was  slow  work  trying  to  file  silently  tliroui;h 
tlu'se  two  thin  wires  that  stood  between  us  and 
liberty,  and  I  marvel  to  this  day  how  it  was  that 
the  sentry  never  heard  me.  Our  plan  had  been 
to  get  the  job  finished  by  about  eight  o'clock, 
and  then  slip  out  and  mingle  with  the  crowil 
outside,  so  that  even  if  the  sentry  did  see  us  he 
could  not  fire,  on  account  of  the  other  peo|)le. 
Unfortunately,  however,  it  was  past  eleven 
before  I  was  able  to  creep  back  and  tell  my 
comrades  that  we  could  go.  Everything  was 
(juiet  in  the  streets  now,  and  not  a  sound  was 
to  be  heard  save  the  measured  tread  of  the 
sentry  on  his  high  platform.  Had  we  gone 
then  we  should  have  been  observed  at  once, 
being  the  sole  occupants  of  the  street,  and 
nothing  could  have  saved  us  from 
being  shot,  so  we  determined  to 
wait  until  the  morrow. 

The  next  day  was  Sunday,  and 
tliroughout  the  whole  of  that  inter- 
minable day  we  sat  watching  and 
waiting,  praying  that  the  dark 
might  come  (juickly.  At  last  the 
evening  set  m,  and  once  more  we 
drew  lots  as  to  who  should  have 
the  first  chance  to  escape.  Again 
the  lot  fell  to  Roos,  and  after 
shaking  hands  with  us  both  he 
slowly  commenced  to  crawl  across 
the  dreaded  "danger  space." 

The  sentry  was  standing  at  his 
p(jst  on  the  raised  look  -  out,  his 
rifle  at  the  "order,''  and  you  may 
guess  that  we  breathlessly  watched 
for  the  slightest  move  on  his  part 
which  should  indicate  that  he  had 
seen  Roos.  Roos,  of  course,  had 
the  corner  of  his  eye  in  the  same 
direction.  I'hen  a  cold  chill  ran 
down  my  back,  for  I  could  have 
sworn  that  the  soldier  was  staring 
straight  at  Roos,  and  we  watched 
to  give  the  alarm  on  the  slightest 
upraising  of  his  rifle.  Staring  at 
him  he  undoubtedly  was,  but  he 
must  have  been  in  a  brown  study, 
for  he  made  no  sign.  Roos,  how- 
ever, .saw  him  and  crept  back  to 
us  at  once. 

"  Did  you  see  the  sentry?'  he 
whispered. 

Nothing  would  persuade  him 
that  the  soldier  had  not  seen  him, 
and  was  waiting  to  get  a  shot  at 
him  when  outside  the  fence,  but 
Botha  and  I  felt  sure  that  th< 
soldier  had  not  noticed  him. 
However,  we  determined  that  we 


would  all  try  and  go  ofT  together,  and  we  were 
just  about  to  make  our  attempt  when  ■ 

an   officer,  a  sergeant,  and   some   men  i ^ 

straight  for  us !  We  rushed  back  to  get  mside 
the  wires  and  out  of  the  "  danger  space,"  but 
just  as  we  got  inside  the  [larty  came  uj)  and  we 
were  taken  in  the  very  act  ! 

I  cannot  attempt  to  depict  our  feelings. 
Botha  burst  out  crying.  He  was  a  brave  man, 
but  the  disappointment  was  a  keen  one,  and 
we  were  sure  that  the  discovery  of  our  attempt 
to  escape  meant  deportation  to  Ceylon  for  us. 
When  we  were  taken  back  to  our  tent  we  did 
not  find  much  sympathy  there,  but  got  nothing 
except  abuse  from  the  others  for  bringing  them 
into  discredit  ! 


COULD   HAVK  S\V»>«.\   THAT 

sIKMl.MT   A  I 


3i8 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


On  the  following  day  three  hundred  of  us 
were  shipped  on  board  the  ss.  Catalonia,  and 
taken  a  few  miles  out  to  sea.  This  was  the 
15th  of  November,  1900.  AVe  remained 
anchored  out  here  until  the  22nd  of  Novem- 
ber, when  we  again  put  in  to  the  harbour, 
and  three  hundred  more  of  our  countrymen 
were  put  on  board.  That  day  we  set  sail  for 
Durban,  en  route  to  Ceylon. 

Our  escort  was  composed  of  the  Oloucesters, 
and  this  was  an  excellent  example  of  the 
fortunes  of  war,  for  amongst  them  I  recog- 
nised many  of  the  men  whom  we  had  captured 
at  Nicholson's  Nek  at  the  beginning  of  the  war. 
I  had  by  this  time  been  appointed  a  sort  of 
chief  commandant  of  our  men,  and  as  such  I 
was  responsible  for  their  discipline. 

On  arriving  at  Durban  we  were  in  quarantine 
for  some  time,  as  measles  had  broken  out  on 
board,  and  we  had  time  to  watch  the  terrible 
sharks  which  haunt  the  bay  until  the  22nd  of 
December,  on  which  date  we  started  off  in 
earnest  for  Ceylon.  I  need  hardly  tell  you  that 
there  were  a  number  of  us  on  board  who  had 
no  intention  of  calmly  landing  in  Ceylon  without 
an  effort  to  make  our  escape.  AVe  accordingly 
formed  a  desperate  plan  for  taking  possession  of 
the  shij),  rushing  the  soldiers,  and  then  steaming 
to  Madagascar  and  burning  the  vessel.  From 
here  we  could  get  back  to  Delagoa  Bay  in  a 
week  or  so.  It  sounds  a  big  undertaking,  I 
know,  but  when  I  have  explained  our  plan  to 
you  I  think  you  will  admit  that  it  was  feasible 
enough.  I  am  convinced  that  it  could  have 
been  carried  out  but  for  the  one  thing  that  ruined 
every  big  effort  we  made— treachery  in  our  own 
ranks. 

Our  scheme  was  as  follows  :  Every  morning 
at  10  a.m.  there  was  an  inspection  of  the 
prisoners  on  their  own  deck  by  the  military  and 
ship's  officers.  These  were  all  unarmed,  and  it 
would  have  been  simplicity  itself  for  us  to  over- 
power and  gag  them,  for  we  were  six  hundred 
and  they  but  ten  or  eleven. 

Our  ([uarters  were  the  fore-part  of  the  third 
deck,  and  the  soldiers  who  were  our  guards 
occupied  the  after-part  of  the  same  deck.  At 
inspection  time,  however,  they  were  all  mustered 
on  the  upper  deck  for  their  morning  parade,  all 
their  arms  and  ammunition  being  left  below  in 
the  after-part  of  the  ship.  There  were  two  long 
{)assages,  or  alleyway.s,  between  our  quarters 
and  the  soldiers',  and  to  each  of  these  passages 
there  was  a  single  sentry,  with  whom  we 
freciuenlly  used  to  converse.  Our  plan  was  to 
capture  Major  Bishop  and  the  other  officers 
while  they  were  passing  round  our  tables,  and, 
having  gagged  them,  to  go  along  and  seize  the 
.sentries    in    turn.     This   we  could   easily    have 


done,  as,  of  course,  they  would  be  absolutely 
unsuspicious  ;  and  what  can  one  man,  however 
brave,  do  against  dozens  resolved  to  be  free  ? 

Once  the  sentries  were  captured  we  would 
have  rushed  to  the  arms  which  were  lying  idle 
—their  owners,  all  unconscious  of  the  gathering 
storm,  being  on  the  deck  above — and  with  the 
rifles  and  ammunition  once  111  our  possession 
everything  was  in  our  power,  and  the  troops 
would  have  had  nothing  for  it  but  to  surrender. 
But  traitors  were  at  work,  and  those  our  own, 
I  am  ashamed  to  say.  On  the  day  we  passed 
Madagascar  the  sentries  on  the  two  passages 
were  quietly  increased  to  twenty-five  men,  and 
we  were  locked  in  our  {quarters  during  the  whole 
of  that  and  the  next  day. 

Nothing  further  of  interest  happened  during 
the  voyage,  and  at  midday  on  \Vednesday,  the 
9th  of  January,  1901,  we  arrived  at  Colombo 
Harbour,  and  on  the  next  day  one  hundred  and 
fifty  men  were  landed  and  sent  on  to  1  )iyatalawa, 
the  prisoners'  camp,  situated  about  one  hundred 
and  thirty  miles  inland.  On  the  iith  the  train 
came  back,  and  on  Saturday  another  one 
hundred  and  fifty  men  were  landed,  the 
journey  from  the  ship  to  the  shore  being  made 
in  little  boats.  I  had  to  arrange  who  was  to 
go  on  shore,  and  every  morning  at  4.30  a.m. 
I  called  out  the  names  of  tho.se  who  were  to 
be  landed.    • 

All  this  time  I  was  thinking  of  but  one  thing 
— escape.  I  spoke  to  Roos,  and  asked  him  if 
he  would  like  to  be  left  to  the  last.  He  under- 
stood what  I  meant,  but  seemed  to  think  that 
the  thing  was  now  hojx'less.  ])Otha,  however, 
still  hoped,  but  thought  that  the  undertaking 
would  be  desperately  dangerous,  so  we  said 
nothing  and  waited. 

The  Ceylon  newspapers  were  funny.  They 
gave  us  and  their  readers  to  understand  that  we 
were  the  riff-raff  of  the  Boers,  and  indeed  of  the 
earth,  and  they  described  us  as  a  "dangerous 
set  "  !  I  am  glad  now,  when  I  look  back,  to 
think  that  we  were  at  least  able  to  give  a  certain 
amount  of  justification  to  the  "  dangerous  set  " 
part  of  the  description  by  our  subsequent 
escape.  I  hope,  too,  that  I  may  be  forgiven  it 
I  mention  with  a  certain  degree  of  pride  that 
our  i)arty  were  the  only  five  Boers  who  ever 
escaped  from  Ceylon. 

On  Monday  morning  there  were  to  be  another 
one  hundred  and  fifty  landed.  On  Sunday 
afternoon  I  was  seated  on  the  deck,  reading.  I 
do  not  think  you  would  care  to  know  my 
thoughts  that  day,  but  they  were  mostly  sad  ones. 
Somehow  everything  appeared  as  black  as  black 
could  be.  No  news  fr(nn  the  veldt,  no  word 
from  home,  my  farm  ruined,  myself  a  prisoner  ; 
kindly    treated,     yet    still    a    prisoner.      I    was 


now    w  1,    I'.scAi'i:!)   irom    ci-.m.on. 


awakciK-tl  from 
my  reverie  by  a 
c  o  111  |)  a  n  i  o  ii 
touching  me  on 
the  shoulder. 

"  Look  at  that 
gigantic  ship,'' 
said  he. 

I  took  n  o 
notice  until  lie 
added,  "  Why, 
she  has  three 
funnels  I "' 

They  say  that 
nothing  hap{)cns 
by  chance,  and  I 
was  afterwards 
thankful  that  I 
looked  up.  I  had 
never  seen  a 
three  -  funnelled 
ship  before,  and 
I  was  therefore 
interested.  1 
looked  at  the 
boat  and  also  ob- 
served that  she 
was  carrying  the 
Russian  double- 
eagle  flag. 

The  day  passed 
slowly  enough.  Then,  in  the  evening,  I  noticed 
on  the  port  side  two  streams  of  water  running 
from  the  side  of  the  shiji  into  the  sea— evidently 
from  the  engine-rooms.  They  made  a  great  noise, 
and  like  a  flash  it  occurred  to  me  that,  if  I 
could  only  get  over  the  side  without  being  seen, 
the  noise  of  the  falling  water  would  prevent 
anyone  hearing  me  as  I  dropped  into  the  sea. 

By  way  of  preparation  I  got  hold  of  a  piece 
of  rope,  and  made  it  fast  to  a  post  on  the  deck. 
'I'hen  I  told  one  of  our  men  named  Morton 
that  I  meant  to  ha\e  a  try  at  escape.  I  begged 
him  not  to  tell  Bolha,  because  I  knew  what 
would  happen.  Botha,  thinking  of  the  risk, 
would  remind  me  of  my  mother,  and  then  my 
courage  would  evaporate. 

It  was  no  child's  [jlay  to  escajx;  from  this  well- 
guarded  ship.  There  were  eight  soldiers  as 
guards  on  board  in  addition  to  the  vigilant  ship's 
officers.  Besides  these  watchers  on  the  ship, 
there  were  five  boats  patrolling  all  round  us,  and 
each  of  these  boats  had  gigantic  lanterns,  which 
they  swung  to  and  fro  from  time  to  lime,  search- 
ing the  sides  of  the  ship  and  the  water  all  round 
every  ten  minutes. 

I  was  i)rowling  about  the  deck  when  I 
noticed  that  there  were  others  who  seemed  to 
have    the    same   designs   as    I    had.     ^'ou   will, 


l.OOK    Ar    THAT   GIL.AN11C    SMI' 


perhaps,  ask  me  why  I  was  going  to  try  and  gel 
away  alone  this  time,  but  you  will  rememlxT 
that  every  time  I  had  tried  to  get  up  a  general 
escape  the  plot  was  betrayed,  and  as  I  was 
determined  not  to  be  sent  to  the  camp  I 
thought  I  would  risk  this  venture  alone. 

I  noticed  a  (lerman  named  Haussner  wander 
ing  about  as  if  he  were  seeking  for  a  means  of 
escape,  and  I  went  up  to  him  and  told  him  that 
I  meant  to  go.  He  then  said  that  he  had  Ken 
trying  to  bribe  a  sailor  on  board  to  let  him 
through  the  hole  out  of  which  the  aiK  !inr 
chain  slipped.  I  explained  my  plan  to  hiii,. 
and  before  we  went  we  had  a  look  round  lo  see 
if  any  more  of  our  men  conlcmpIateJ  an 
attem|)t. 

I  saw  two   boys  from  the  I""ree  Stati . 
Steytler,   prowling  about,  and   1 
they  were  trying   to  escape.       T' 
They  had   thought   of  mv    i' 
decided   on  the  starboai'. 
port.     The  objection  ' 
there  would  be  no   uv: 
as  there  was  on  the  other 

Our  ne.\t  move  was  to  li 
whom  we  could  de|><tu!  '"  ' 
and  I  decided  to  tell  \  as;  m,  who  con.  s 

from  the  Hrandfort  district,  thai  we 


320 


THE    WIDE    WORLU     MACiAZINE. 


to  escape.  I  asked  him  to  help  us,  and  he 
promised.  rhen  I  went  below  to  have  a  look 
round.  The  others  were  all  asleep  except 
Botha,  my  friend,  and  when  I  saw  the  look  on 
his  face  I  knew  that  Morton  had  told  him. 
His  hand  was  trembling  when  he  caught  hold 
of  me. 

"For  Heaven's  sake,  ^^"illie,■■  he  said,  "don't 
risk  it  I  Remember  you  have  someone  depend- 
ing on  you." 

I  tried  to  reason  with  him,  but  it  was  of  no. 
use,  and  for  the  time  being  my  resolution  broke 
down. 

At  last  I  jumped  up.  "  I  don't  care,"  I  said, 
desperately  ;  "  nothing  can  be  worse  than  this. 
I  7v///  go.  We  are  wanted,  you  and  I,  and  I 
am  not  going  to  remain  here  helpless  if  I  can 
get  awa)-." 

I  looked  at  Botha,  and  I  saw  that  I  had  won. 
He  gripped  my  hand.  "If  you  go,  I  go  with 
you,"  he  whispered,  and  the  die  was  cast. 

We  then  went  on  deck,  and  found  that 
Steytler  had  fi.xed  a  piece  of  rope  over  the  ship's 
side,  on  the  starboard  side,  in  the  shadow  of  a 
cook-house.  We  now  went  below  to  make  our 
final  preparations.  While  we  were  still  busy 
Van  Aswegan  rushed  down  to  tell  us  that  the 
younger  Steytler  had  gone  and  seemed  to  have 
passed  the  look-outs  safely. 

Botha  and  I  wanted  to  go  next,  but^the  elder 
Steytler  insisted  on  following  to  look  after  his 
younger  brother,  and  so  we  let  him.  We  sat 
silent,  our  hearts  beating  madly,  listening  to 
catch  the  faintest  sound,  and  wondering  when 
•our  turn  would  come,  and  whether  we  should 
■ever  get  through.  Then  Van  Aswegan  came 
down  again  to  .say  that  the  elder  Steytler  was 
gone  and  safe  through.  Just  as  I  was  preparing 
to  cree[)  up  on  deck  the  (lerinnn  caught  me  by 
the  shirt. 

"  I  want  to  go  now,"  he  muttered,  fiercely. 

"  Why  don't  you  go  through  your  anchor- 
hole?''  asked  jjotha.  Upon  that  the  man 
•commenced  to  shout  like  a  madman,  and 
threatened  to  wake  up  all  the  others ;  so  for 
safety's  .sake  I  said,  "(lo  :  " 

I  was  seriously  disturbed  at  this  incidciil, 
because  I  was  afraid  the  (lerman  would  do 
something  clumsy  and  give  the  alarm.  How- 
ever, after  about  a  fjuarler  of  an  hour  \'an 
Aswegan  came  down,  and  he  could  not  Ik  Ip 
laughing  in  spite  of  the  importance  of  the  issue. 

"  Haussncr  is  two  hundred  yards  away,  and 
you  can  still  hear  him  blosving  like  a  pig,"  he 
said.  "  Poor  old  I  laussner  always  was  a  sliock- 
ingly  poor  swimmer.'' 

Now,  all  the  boys  in  the  Orange  Free  Stale 
are  passionately  fond  of  swimming,  and  spend  a 
great  |)art  of  their  playtime;  paddling  about  in 


the  dams.  Although  I  had  never  been  in  the 
sea  before,  I  had  reason  that  night  to  thank 
Heaven  that  I  could  swim  a  little. 

It  was  now  my  turn  to  go,  and  with  my  heart 
in  my  mcuth  I  crept  up  on  deck  on  my  hands 
and  knees.  It  was  now  twenty  minutes  to 
twelve  on  the  night  of  .Sunday,  the  13th  of 
January.  I  came  up  on  deck  with  a  blanket 
under  my  arm,  so  that  if  anyone  .saw  me  I 
could  say  that  I  was  just  coming  up  to  sleep 
on  deck — a  privilege  that  had  now  been  granted 
to  us. 

The  guard  was  just  changing,  and  while  the 
sentry  was  going  over  his  orders,  with  ported 
arms,  and  the  officer  was  twisting  his  moustache, 
Van  Aswegan  whispered,  "  Now's  your  time  !  " 

Had  any  of  the  guard  chanced  to  look  my 
way  I  should  have  been  lost,  but  luckily  for  me 
no  such  thing  happened.  It  struck  me  as  funny 
that  I  should  be  going  by  the  Steytlers'  way 
instead  of  my  own,  but  at  the  moment  it  was 
the  best.  Cautiously,  and  holding  my  breath,  I 
slipped  over  the  ship's  side  and  down  the  rope. 
I  had  nothing  on  but  a  shirt,  but  fortunately  it 
was  not  cold  ;  I  had  my  handkerchief  round 
my  neck.  In  one  corner  I  had  a  few  pounds 
tied  up,  and  in  the  other  my  O. F.S.  badge. 

The  ss.  Catalonia  was  now  very  high  out  of 
the  water,  and  I  had  a  long  way  to  get  down. 
I  was  just  about  half-way  down  when  I  happened 
to  glance  at  one  of  the  patrol  boats.  To  my 
horror  I  saw  a  sailor  in  the  very  act  of  stretching 
out  his  hand  to  take  up  one  of  the  lanterns  with 
which  the  sides  of  the  ship  were  searched  every 
ten  minutes  !  If  I  waited  another  few  seconds 
I  should  be  seen,  so  I  slid  swiftly  down  the 
rope,  cutting  my  hands  like  paper.  They  felt 
just  as  if  I  were  holding  molten  metal,  and  the 
salt  water  made  them  worse. 

As  I  was  only  a  few  yards  from  one  of  the 
jwtrol  boats  I  dived  at  once  and  <'anie  up 
again  on  my  back  to  have  a  look  round,  with 
just  my  fiice  above  the  water.  Then  I  dived 
again  and,  after  coming  up  the  second  time, 
could  see  that  I  was  now  comparatively  safe. 

It  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever  bcfc-n  ui  the 
sea,  and  my  sensations  were  curious.  I'irst  and 
most  vivid  was  the  stinging  pain  in  my  hands. 
Then  for  the  first  two  hundred  yards  I  was 
wretchedlv  tired.  The  little  choppy  waves 
(lashed  up  in  my  face  and  the  salt  water  down 
my  throat  made  me  feel  very  sick.  After  that 
a  strange  feeling  of  drowsiness  came  over  me, 
anil  for  a  moment  I  found  myself  thinking  that 
I  might  as  well  sink  and  cikI  it  all,  but  some- 
how I  nerved  myself  ami  swam  on  with  the 
idea  of  reaching  a  ship. 

Botha  and  I  had  agreed  to  make  for  a  l-'rench 
ship    that    we   had   chosen,  and    for   this   I  now 


iiuw    \m:    i;sc.\n. I)    ikom   ci.nion. 


swam,  fcL-litig  l)ctter  at  every  stroke.  Ilie  two 
Steytlers  and  Ilaussner,  the  (Jernian,  were  going 
to  a  ("lerman  boat  which  they  had  chosen  out 
of  the  forty  odd  boats  of  all  nationalities  that 
lay  at  anchor  in  the  harbour. 

1  was  some  tlistance  fiom  the  lixnch  boat 
when  I  heard  her  anchor  being  drawn  up.  I 
swam  as  hard  as  1  could,  fearing  that  she  might 
move  off  before  I  could  get  on  board,  and,  sure 
enough,  just  as  I  was  quite  close  to  her— within 
hailing  distance,  in  fact— she  moved  off  1 
dared  not  shout,  because  there  was  a  Britisii 
steam  tug  passing  that  would  have  heard  me 
and  captured  me,  so  I  h.ul  to  l)ear  up  against 
this  bitter  di.sappointment  and  make  new  plans. 

I  had  now  to  make  up  my  mind  what  other 
ship  I  should  swim  for,  but  as  it  was  pitch  dark 
I  did  not  know  where  to  go,  fearing  lest  I  should 
swim  by  mistake  to  some  I^nglish  shi[).  In 
despair  1  thought  that  I  might  as  well  make  fur 
the  shore  and  trust  to  the  kindness  of  the 
natives.  Once  I  heard  the  swish  of  a  fish's 
tail  near  me,  and  a  cold  shudder  went  through 
me  as  I  thought  of  sharks.  Then  a  brilliant 
idea  struck  me,  and  I  almost  shouted  for  joy. 

The  Russian  ship,  the  one  with  the  three 
funnels  !  While  1  could  never  distinguish  a 
flag  in  the  darkness,  I  could  easily  pick  out  the 
three  funnels  against  the  sky,  and  I  thanked 
Heaven  that  I  had  got  up  and  looked  at  the  shi]) 


when  1  was  silting  on  the  dc  n. 

I''illcd    with    new    energy    I    s.......    ,.,    ..  ..^.c   1 

thought  she  must  be  lying,  and  soon  I  saw  the 
three  great  funnels  looming  uj)  against  the 
horizon,  like  great  towers. 

Curiously  enough,  they  seemed  to  be  ex|>ect- 
ing  me  on  board  !  When  I  was  about  thirty 
yards  away  I  noticed  a  sailor  standing  on  the 
deck,  and  he  beckoned  to  me.  I  went  on  to 
the  side  of  the  shii)  and  immediately  a  ro|)c  was 
thrown  down  to  me.  I  tried  to  scramble  up, 
but  was  too  exhausted,  and  fell  back  into  the 
water,  signing  to  the  sailor  that  I  could  not 
climb  up.  He  understood  at  once,  and  after  a 
few  minutes'  delay  a  sort  of  seat  arrangement 
was  let  down  to  me,  on  which  1  .sat  and  was 
promptly  hauled  up.  I'wo  gigantic  Russian 
sailors  seized  me  as  if  I  were  a  child  and  laid 
me  on  the  deck,  a  free  man  I 

By  this  time  there  were  four  or  five  sailors 
around  me,  and  a  man  whom  I  recognised  as 
being  a  Russian  military  ofticer.  We  stood 
staring  at  one  another  for  a  few  moments.  I 
must  have  been  a  strange-looking  object,  with 
my  matted  hair  and  the  water  dripping  from 
me.  I  looked  at  a  clock  and  saw  that  it  was 
2.ioa.m.  I  had  been  in  the  water  two  and  a 
half  hours. 

'i'he  officer  signed  to  the  men,  and  without  a 
word  they  led  me  away  to  the  forecastle.     They 


Vol. 


uKr  AM)  OKI  Aur.v. 


322 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


were  so  solemn  about  il  that  all  I  had  ever  read 
of  Russia  and  the  knout  came  to  my  mind,  and 
I  pictured  myself  with  a  shaven  head,  condemned 
to  work  in  the  mines  for  life  because  I  had  come 
on  board  without  a  passport  I 

Then  I  heard  a  voice  saying  :  "  I  wonder 
where  Willie  is  ? "  and  as  I  came  to  an  open 
door  I  nearly  shouted  with  joy.  There  stood 
Botha,  the  two  Steytlers,  and  the  German ! 
They  had  all  got  lost  in  turn  and  had  remem- 
bered, as  I  did,  the  big  boat  with  the  three 
funnels.  How  we  blessed  those  funnels  !  We 
shook  hands  with  one  another,  and  can  you 
blame  us  because  our  voices  were  a  little  husky 
and  our  eyes  a  little  dim  ? 

It  was  now  the  morning  of  the  14th  of 
January,  and  everyone  on  board  seemed  to  be 
trying  to  shout  their  loudest.  Soldiers  and 
sailors  were  all  making  merry.  We  could  not 
understand  what  was  up  until  I  remembered  it 
was  their  New  Year's  Eve. 

They  made  us  drink  to  General  De  \Vet,  and 
Delarey,  and  to  President  Kruger.  I  was 
astonished  to  find  that  all  the.se  Russian  sailors 
knew  the  names  of  our  generals,  and  had  cjuite 
a  fair  knowledge  of  the  campaign. 

An  officer  now  came  up  to  us.  He  spoke  in 
very  fair  English,  and  asked  us  when  we  would 
be  likely  to  be  missed  on  board  the  Catalonia. 
I  told  him  that  we  should  be  missed  at  4.30  a.m., 
at  which  hour  it  was  my  own  duty  to  call  the 
roll  of  the  prisoners  who  were  for  the  shore  that 
morning.  Up  to  that  time,  I  said,  we  were 
safe. 

As  a  result  of  my  statement  there  was  a 
hurried  consultation  among  the  officers,  and 
soon  the  anchor  was  weighed,  and  at  3  a.m. 
we  steamed  out  of  Colombo  Harbour,  our  hearts 
full  of  joy  at  our  new-found  liberty.  The  ship, 
we  were  told,  would  call  at  Port  Said,  and  we 
decided  to  land  there  and  find  our  way  back  to 
South  Africa. 

On  waking  ne.xt  morning  we  found  that  new 
clothes  had  been  left  for  each  of  us,  for,  as  you 
will  remember,  I  arrived  on  board  with  nothing 
but  my  shirt.  The  new  garments  fitted  us 
excellently,  and  after  dressing  we  went  on  deck, 
where  we  were,  so  to  speak,  "  on  show." 

There  were  very  few  civilians  on  deck,  the 
ship  having  for  its  |)rincipal  jjassengers  about 
fifteen  hundred  soldiers  returning  from  the 
operations  in  China.  There  were  about  ninety- 
four  officers  of  all  ranks  with  them,  including 
three  generals.  These  latter  were  very  much 
interested  in  all  that  we  had  to  tell  them  of  the 
war  in  South  Africa,  and  seemed  to  have  a 
wonderful  knowledge  (;f  the  strategic  aspect  of 
every  battle. 

The  kind  treatment  accorded  to  us  on  board 


this  ship  was  most  touching.  A\'e  were  made 
first-class  passengers  at  once,  and  everyone 
seemed  to  think  of  our  comfort  with  a  delicacy 
that  was  very  gratifying. 

Nothing  of  importance  occurred  till  the  vessel 
reached  Aden.  Then  one  morning,  while  we 
were  still  in  bed,  an  officer  came  in. 

"  Now  we  are  in  Aden,"'  he  said.  "  Have 
the  goodness  to  come  up  on  deck." 

\Ve  went  on  deck,  and  as  we  did  so  all  the 
sailors  and  ship's  officers  were  ordered  to  go 
below.  The  officer  then  explained  to  us  that 
the  news  of  our  escape  was  certain  to  have  been 
telegraphed  to  Aden,  and  that  the  British 
authorities  would  send  representatives  on  board 
to  searcii  for  us.  It  had  therefore  been  decided 
to  conceal  us  without  the  knowledge  of  the 
ship's  officers,  so  that  the  latter  could  truthfully 
assert  that  they  were  unable  to  give  any 
information  as  to  our  whereabouts. 

A  plate  was  then  unscrewed  from  the  side  of 
one  of  the  big  funnels — the  furnaces  connected 
with  which,  I  suppose,  were  not  being  used — 
and  we  all  crept  in  and  sat  there  in  a  fearfully 
cramped  position  on  a  sort  of  iron  ladder  for 
something  over  six  hours. 

At  last  we  were  released,  and  a  pretty 
spectacle  we  looked — smothered  from  head  to 
foot  with  soot  and  grime.  We  then  learned 
what  had  happened.  Directly  the  ship  reached 
her  moorings  two  English  officers  came  on 
board  and  asked  to  see  the  captain.  They  then 
produced  two  telegrams,  one  from  the  Governor 
of  Ceylon  and  one  from  the  Ru.ssian  Consul, 
stating  that  five  prisoners  had  escaped,  and  that 
there  was  reason  to  believe  that  these  men  were 
either  on  board  the  Russian  or  the  French  shi{) 
that  had  left  Colombo  before  daybreak  on  the 
14th  of  January. 

The  captain  claiming  entire  ignorance  of  the 
whole  affair,  the  British  officers  insisted  on 
searching  the  ship,  but  this  tlie  Russian  ca])tain 
refused  to  allow  unless  a  large  sum  of  money 
was  deposited  as  a  compensation  for  the  delay, 
to  be  forfeited  in  the  event  of  the  men  in 
(|uestion  not  being  found.  This  plan,  however, 
did  not  find  favour  in  the  officers'  eyes,  and 
so  tliey  went  off  disappointed. 

At  last  we  arrived  at  Port  Said,  where  we 
intended  to  land.  Of  course,  Port  Said  is  an 
international  port,  and  for  that  leason,  if  we 
had  gone  ashore,  we  could  not  have  been 
captured  there.  However,  it  was  extremely 
[)robable  that  our  arrival  would  be  noted,  and 
we  could  i)e  watched  until  we  left  Port  Said, and 
then  followed  and  captured.  Consecjuently, 
one  of  the  Russian  officers  went  on  shore  to 
make  inquiries  for  us.  He  found  out  that  it 
was    suspected    we  were    on   board,   and   if   we 


now     WE    ESCAriJ)     FROM     Cl'.VI.ON. 


J- J 


landed,  therefore,  we  sliould  be  at  once  marked 
down. 

What  were  we  to  do?  How  were  we  to  get 
back  home?  In  our  dilemma  the  Russian 
officer  suggested  that  we  sliould  go  on  with  the 
ship  and  land  in  Russia,  and  then  make  our 
way  across  Europe*  to  Holland,  and  from  there 
get  back  to  South  Africa.  It  seemed  an  immense 
undertaking,  but  what  else  could  we  do?  We 
gratefully  accepted  the  kind  offer.  After  this 
we  passed  to  the  Black  Sea.  The  ship  was  to 
have  called  at  Odessa  to  disembark  her  troops, 
but  for  some  reason  this  plan  was  changed  and 
we  were  landed  at  a  place  called  Theodosia. 
Of  course,  as  everybody  knows,  no  one  can 
land  in  Russia  without  a 
passport,  and  I  believe  we 
were  the  only  men  who 
ever  got  through  Russia 
without  a  passport  and 
with  official  connivance. 

There  was  only  one  way 
of  accomplishing  it,  and 
this  our  kind  friends  on 
board  arranged  for  us. 
We  had  to  go  as  Russian 
soldiers  1  We  put  on 
Russian  uniforms,  and 
slipped  the  regulation 
haversacks  on  our  backs. 
I  am  sure  we  must  have 
looked  very  funny,  and  we 
certainly  felt  so.  How 
ever,  we  marched  along 
with  the  rest  with  our 
heads  erect,  and  never  lost 
step  once. 

When  we  got  to  the 
barracks  there  were  a  lot 
of  sour-looking  men  wail- 
ing for  us.  These,  I  was 
told,  were  police-officers, 
who  proceeded  to  count  us 
just  like  a  flock  of  sheej). 
It  was  a  very  undignified 
ordeal,  but  in  Russia  any- 
body may  be  a  spy,  and 

even  the  soldiers  have  to  be  watched  by  the 
police.  They  little  guessed,  however,  that  there 
were  five  Boers  amongst  them  I 

We  put  off  the  Russian  uniform  after  the 
police  had  left  the  barracks.  As  soon  as  the 
(German  Consul  heard  that  we  were  in  Theodosia 
he  very  kindly  invited  us  to  stop  with  him  while 
we  were  there,  and,  needless  to  say,  we  accepted. 
We  stopped  at  his  house  for  three  days,  when  we 
left  for  St.  Petersburg,  travelling  by  the  military 
train.  We  went  in  an  officers'  carriage  with  three 
Russian    officers,    and   were   very   comfortable 


indeed.     At  every  station  we  camt-  to  we  were 
feted  and  cheered,  for  somehow  or  olh--     •    -y 
body  along  the  line  seenietl  to  have  1.  ii 

we  were  in  the  train.  There  were  a  few  things  that 
amused  me  ver\  much.      When  tin  '         w 

us  for  the  first  time  they  ^aid  in  sui;  .y, 

they  are  exactly  like  ourselves  I  "  They  seemed 
to  expect  to  .see  some  peculiar  kind  of  animal. 
Then  we  had  to  get  out  of  the  carriage  and  walk 
about  and  show  ourst?lves  for  the  edification  of 
the  gaping  crowd.  Nearly  everybody  offered  us 
money,  and  every  man,  woman,  and  child 
whistled  or  sang  the  "  \'olkslied." 

One  of  the  officers  with  us  seemed  keen  on 
amusing  the  people.     He  had  a  pretty  good  ide;i 


WE    MARCHEU    ALONG    WITH    THK    REST   WITH    Ot'K    HKAOS    I 

what  they  expected  us  to  be  like,  and 
mined  they  should  not  be  dis;ippuiiued     .\ 
ingly  he  took  off  his  tunic  aiul  put  on  \u\  ..... 
Then  he  sei/.ed  a   large  ham  bone  and  with  a 
knife  commenced  hacking  large  pii  <  t>  off.    '1  he 
admiring  crowd  shri.  '     '        ' 

"  Look  at  th.-   1'..  m  bono." 

they  said. 

Then  suddenly  the  »■  '' 

tunic  and  mililarv  c.r-  '-^ 

the  platform.      The  ;  ihey  had  been 

sold,  and  laughed  anew  at  the  little  joke. 


324 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    ALULAZIXE. 


The  next  place  we  arrived  at  was  \'ilna,  and 
here  the  officers  had  to  leave  us,  so  we  went  on 
to  St.  Petersburg  alone. 

We  had  now  to  think  of  a  way  of  getting  into 
St.  Petersburg,  as  we  had  no  passports,  and 
without  them  would  be  in  a  fix.  However,  some 
kind  friends  suggested  an  excellent  plan.  We 
were  to  go  in  as  recruits  for  the  army.  They 
got  us  for  this  purpose  some  peasants'  clothing. 
This  consisted  of  a  long  overcoat  reaching 
down  to  the  knees,  made  of  sheepskin  with  wool 
inside.  We  also  wore  immense  woollen  scarves, 
astrakhan  caps,  thick  gloves,  and  knee  boots 
made  of  a  sort  of  compressed  felt. 

So  attired  we  entered  St.  Petersburg.  After 
a  brief  stay  here  we  left  for  Berlin,  and  from 
thence  went  to  Utrecht.  There  we  saw  President 
Kruger,  just  eighteen  days  after  the  operation 
on  his  eyes.  The  old  man  was  seated  in  a 
neatly-furnished  room  in  the  hotel,  with  a  large 
family  FJible  in  front  of  him.  He  sat  with  his 
elbosv  on  the  table,  puffing  at  his  pipe.  I  was 
the  first  to  enter,  and  he  spoke  in  a  voice  which 
seemed  to  come  from  his  boots. 


"  Morgen,  kinders,"  he  said.  "  Is  julle  die  vijf 
swemmers  ?  "  ((iood  morning,  children.  Are 
you  the  five  swimmers?) 

We  had  a  long  talk  with  him,  never  once 
mentioning  the  war,  and  told  him  that  we 
were  going  back  to  South  Africa.  He  offered 
us  what  money  we  wanted,  but,  as  Consul- 
General  IMiiller  had  already  supplied  us,  we  did 
not  take  any  money  from  him. 

Consul-General  Miiller  had  written  to  us,  and 
so  we  went  down  to  the  Hague,  where  we  met 
him,  and  he  offered  to  pay  our  expenses  out  of 
his  own  private  purse. 

It  was  now  the  ist  of  March,  and  the  boat 
did  not  leave  Hamburg  till  the  5th,  so  we 
decided  to  go  to  Amsterdam  for  a  few  days. 
^^'e  stayed  there  at  the  "  Boeren  Tehuis,"  a 
home  for  refugee  Boers,  supported  by  a  com- 
mittee in  Amsterdam.  On  the  4th  of  March 
we  left  Amsterdam  for  Hamburg,  with  passports 
under  assumed  names.  I  took  my  passport 
under  my  mother's  maiden  name,  and  went  as 
"  Hermanes  Siebert."  A  translation  of  the 
document  is  given  on  the  opposite  page. 


"'r.dniJ    MORNING,    CHILDREN,'    HE   SAID.       '  AKK    WiV    TIIK    FIVE   SWIMMERS?' 


now     W  !•:    KSfAVKD     FKoM     (  l.\  1  <  ix 


325 


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M  y^/C..y.:rp:f-^  ./-.c^y-^^. 


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ZA-m^  f^tt ff  ftSe^r    ^x.^.'^^z^ 


ij4-n  J«i 


ifr*  4-u/C4^ 


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<?*rf- 


yta^lf 


7 


.i'.-'\', 


Tilt    lASSI-ORT    ISSUED   TO   THE   AUTHOR    VNDEK    AN    ASsL.ltU   NAME. 


Passport  ok  thk  Orange  Free  State. 

Description.  I,      Dr.      Ilendiik      Pieter      Nicholas 

Miiller,    Consiil-(;eneral    of   the    Orange 

Age  25.  Tree  State,  etc.,  etc., 

By  virtue  of  the  ixjwer  given  to  me  l)y 
tlie  Consular  regulations  of  June  yih, 
1S77,  article  19, 

In  the  name  of  the  Orange  Free  State 
re(|uest  all  oflicials  and  officers  of  foreign 
I'rinces  and  Stales  to  allow  Mr.  Her- 
nianes  Siebcrt,  born  at  Bethlehem, 
Seiilemher  30th,  1875,  an  emigrant 
Afrikander,  who  is  about  to  betake  him- 
self from  Kurope  to  South  Africa,  to  pass 
ai  lil)orty  with  his  baggage.  I  request 
th(;  abov'e-menlioned  ^ittuials  and  oflicers 
t(»  forbid  that  any  hindrance  should  be 
put  in  his  way,  and  to  give,  or  cause  to 
be  given,  to  him  every  assistance,  even 
as  the  Orange  I'ree  Slate  acts  towards 
foreigncr.s. 

Found  in  Order,  Oiven  at  the  Hague,  Feb.,  \<yo\. 

Louis  Kasiiikk,    The  Consultiencrnl  of  the  0. 1'.  State, 
llainburg,  Uk.  iIl.M>i.'iK  Ml  i.i.KK. 

Counsel  of  the  Free  Slate. 


Hair,    light- 
brown. 

Beard,  none. 

Eyes,  blue. 

Height, 
5fi.  7.i.in. 


Signature   of 

bearer. 
(H.    Siebert.) 


'I'hc    boat  rman    West 

Africa  was  five  <  .  and  so 

we  did  not  start  i...  .  ..aday,  ihc 

10th  of  March,  when  we  sailed 
for  home  <igain,  and  our  hearts 
were  full  of  hope  as  Kuroi)e  grew 
fainter  hchind  us. 

On  arrival  at  Angra  Pequena 
we  intended  to  go  south  e.ist  and 
across  the  Oranije  River  near 
Warmbad,  but  we  heard  that  the 
liritish  were  there  buying  up  all 
the  horses,  so  it  was  no  use  our 
going  that  way.  \\e  accordingly 
decided  to  go  east. 

l-'or  twenty -four  long,  inoiiu 
tonous  days  we  trekked  eastwards, 
carrying  our  saddles,  across  an 
endless,  sandy  desert,  with  never 
a  sight  of  man  or  l)east  to  cheer 
us,  until  we  reached  Reitfontein. 
l-rom  Reitfontein  we  came  down 
south  on  tile  Cierman  side  of  the 
border  until  wc  touched  the 
Orange  River.  We  swam  this  at 
Scuitdrift,  and  then  began  inquir- 
ing as  to  the  whereabouts  of  t'"- 
coir.mandoes. 

\Ve  found  that  Contoy  had 
just  left  Kokamos  for  driqualand 
West,  so  we  went  after  him,  and 
got  near  Upington.  N\  e  found 
that  we  had  twelve  hours  to  go 
without  water,  and,  as  our  horses 
were  completely  done,  we  had  to 
go  back  to  Scuitdrift.  Here  we  gave  the  animals 
three  days"  rest,  and  then  joined  Maritz  at  \  an 
Rhyn's  Dorp.  litis  was  the  end  of  our  travels 
ac  ross  the  world  to  rejoin  our  i)eople,  and  the 
long  trek  of  the  only  five  Hoers  who  ever 
escaped  from  CVylon  was  at  an  iiid. 


.^         >4f<^-*-»  t 


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y 


7l/uX<.o.^^^ ,    ^ 


jcZy^^ 


xXJ/-^ 


o~^\j 


THE   AI' 
av    H I 


An  exciting  incident  which  occurred  on  the  Louisiana  oil-fields.  One  of  the  great  "  gushers,"  or  oil- 
wells,  caught  fire,  and  defied  all  efforts  to  extinguish  it.  Five  thousand  barrels  of  oil  a  day  went 
up  in  smoke,  and  the  conflagration  threatened  to  spread  to  other  wells.  Finally  the  distracted 
owners  offered  a  reward  of  ten  thousand  dollars  to  anyone  who  could  put  out  the  fire.  The  story 
describes    how    an  obscure    "  man    in    the    street  "    came    forward    with    a    novel    idea,    and    how  he 

fought  and  defeated  the  fire  and  received   the  reward. 


OR  the  past  three  years,  ever  since 
the  new  oil-fields  in  Texas  were  dis- 
covered, the  South-West  has  been 
I  furnishing  endless  dramatic  incident. 
U'hcn  the  news  was  carried  across 
the  country  that  some  of  the  greatest  "gushers  " 
of  the  world  were  being  discovered  daily  a 
mad  rush  began,  wilder  than  anything  of  the 
kind  since  the  great  race  for  gold  in  1849  ;  but, 
of  course,  the  scene  at  this  modern  date  was 
vastly  different  from  the  surge  of  the  old-time 
pioneers  over  the  parched  prairies.  In  a  fort- 
night the  dirty  little  pinewood  town  of  lleau- 
niont  grew  from  eight  thousand  to  thirty  thousand 
in  population.  Tlie  aristocratic  adventurer  paid 
five  dollars  for  a  space  on  the  "  hotel  "  floor 
sufficient  to  stretch  out  on,  and  a  dollar  for  a 
cup  of  a  doubtful  beverage,  called  "coffee,"  and 
a  sandwich.  Land  which  had  sold  for  one 
dollar  an  acn-  jjreviously  brought  thousands. 
'I'lie  big  men  hekl  off,  as  they  usually  do,  and 
let  the  little  ones,  eager  to  become  rich,  put 
their  hard-earned  .savings  into  the  new  "  boom  " 
and  test  the  ground,  (.'lerks  who  had  jjurchased 
little  homes  by  ten  years  of  instalments  mort- 
gaged their  prtjperty  and  invested  in  oil  land, 
with  other  small  capitalists,  thinking  to  make  a 
fortune  in  a  motitli. 

'I'he  demand  for  well  borers  and  boring 
machinery  was  so  great  that  the  prices  of  these 
connnodities  trebled.  (Company  after  company 
of  little  investors  with  no  experience  bored  in 


ground  outside  the  "  charmed  circle  ''  and  got 
nothing  for  the  sinking  of  their  all  but  mud, 
mud,  mud  ! 

The  railroads  ran  weekly  excursions  from 
everywhere    with    the    inducement    advertised : 

"  See  the  great    X gusher  gush  !  "      The 

misery  through  which  prospective  investors  who 
took  advantage  of  these  went  compared  with 
that  of  the  California  pioneers  who  crossed  the 
country  in  waggons  for  the  gold-field.s,  but  was, 
fortimately,  not  of  "so  long  duration."  They 
packed  the  trains  like  sardines,  each  with  a 
l)lanket  and  lunch  -  basket,  to  prevent  being 
robbed   for  the  necessities  of  life  at  the  oil  city. 

After  boring  derricks  had  sprung  u[)  as  thick 
as  trees  in  a  forest,  and  the  oil  area  had  been 
thoroughly  tested  by  the  little  men,  the  big 
companies  stepped  in.  V.\q\\  the  small  capitalist 
who  had  been  lucky  enough  to  strike  oil  could 
go  no  farther  in  a  great  many  cases  for  want  of 
money,  and  had  to  sell  out  or  become  insignifi- 
cant shareholders  in  huge  corporations. 

'Hiere  were,  however,  somewise  men  who  did 
iinl  invest  iheii'  money  in  oil,  but  gol  ;i  li\ing 
out  of  the  cra/.etl  creature.s  who  ilid.  I'hey 
o[)ened  restaurants  and  hotels  in  tents,  and 
stores  and  sIk)ws  everything  that  would  appeal 
to  the  strained  nerves  of  the  would-be  liih. 
I'ive  hundred  per  cent,  jjrolit  was  looked  u[)on 
as  small. 

There  was  one  man,  jack  ICnnis,  who 
went    in    for    a   <Mirious    business.      lie    did    not 


ICIiriNd     A     I'lKK     lOK     A     lOKlLNK. 


527 


/•  I  ('«;  a  ruoiii.  n)\ 


IllK    1U-.(.1N.MM,    (>!•      1  Hh    HkK. 


worry  his  head  about  opening  a  restaurant  or 
running  a  store,  but  he  made  a  study  of  the  best 
wav  to  fight  oil  fires,  liy  dint  of  experiment 
with  small  ones  that  occurred  through  careless 
smokers  throwing  lighted  matches  on  the 
Saturated  ground,  or  falling  sparks  from 
passing  locomotives,  he  made  one  important 
discovery  —  that  water  will  not  extinguish 
an    oil    fire,    but    wind    will.       That    di.scovery 


brougiu      him     a     fcrinn,       as ;. 

will   show. 

Recently  oil   was  diseuvcred  near   '  ^, 

just  across  the  Texas  border  in  Louisian.i  1  he 
second  "gusher  '  iiad  lately  been  struck.  When 
the  boring-machine  passed  through  the  strata  of 
rock  that  encases  the  oil  in  that  n-gion  the 
coveted  material  burst  forth  with  such  fury  that 
for  many  hours  the  pipe  could  not  lie  plugged. 
Thousands  of  barrels  of  oil  flooded  the  ground 

round  about,  saturating 
it  and  forming  a  score 
of  pools.  A  huge 
reservoir  was  immedi- 
ately constructed  to 
hold  the  oil.  It  was 
erected  at  what  was  con- 
sidered a  safe  distance 
from  the  "gusher,"  in 
case  it  should  ever 
catch  fire. 

'i'he  great  lank  was 
filled.  It  stood  out 
there  on  the  barren 
prairie  "  tempting 
Providence,"  as  the 
the  summer  thunder- 
fearful     furv     and      fre- 


[Otiin  (in  tj~  i-.ii>:;ni;ii'tt. 


wiseacres  said.  In 
storms  rage  with 
quency  in  that  semi-tropical  clime  along  the 
(lulf  of  Me.xico.  In  just  a  fortnight  along 
came  one.  The  powerful  attraction  and  the 
easy  conductor  offered  by  the  tank  the 
electric-charged  atmosphere  could  not  resist.  A 
lightning  flash  at  noon  made  the  great  reservoir 
an   appalling   blaze  in   less   than  half  an   hour. 


Front  n\ 


Ari-Aic.isc;  I 


3-'« 


IHE     WIDE     WOKEU     MA{.A/A\E. 


^tW 


mtm^i» 


THE   CORDON   OF    SAL  AMMONIAC    WHICH    WAS    IM.ACIiU    ROUND  THE    liURN'ING    OIL-WKLL. 

From  a  Photo  l<y  Duncan  &=■  Elkin^ton. 


The  workmen  left  their  lunch  and  luirriod 
to  the  scene,  hut  tl.'jir  Ijest  efforts  availed 
naui;ht.  'J"he  flames  laughed  at  them  and 
leapt  up  and  along  as  they  saw  fit,  only 
bending  to  tlieir  friend  the  wind.  The  tank  of 
oil  alone  would  have  been  a  serious  loss,  but 
the  conditions  of  the  field  threatened  a  dire 
calamity.  The  great  lamp  would  have  burned 
itself  dry  in  a  few  days,  but  the  fearful  heal  from 
it  caused  the  j)()ols  near  at  hand  to  give  off 
inflammable  uases. 

It  was  a  matter  of  only  a  few  hours  biforc 
the  flanjes  began  to  sjjread.  'i'he  gases  from  all 
sides,  drawn  into  the  vortex,  ignited.  The  fire 
leapt  along  the  earth  like  a  li\ing  thing  on,  on 
t(j  the  great  well.  The  terrific  heat  about  t!ie 
l)ipe  sprang  the  valve,  and  the  gas  from  it  was 
licked  up  by  the  flames.  Still  more  intense 
grew    the  heat,  until  at  last  the  valve  cap  melted. 


Then  tiie  mighty  "gusher"  broke  fortli.  It 
spouted  almost  to  its  full  capacity,  and  threatened 
to  feed  the  flames  until  it  had  given  up  the 
whole  of  its  precious  store. 

There  was  only  one  consolation  in  this 
terrible  predicament — the  wind  blew  the  flames 
away  from  the  other  derricks.  Seeing  the  disaster 
to  "  Well  No.  2,-'  everybody  set  to  work  and 
built  sand-hills  over  the  nozzles  of  the  others 
to  save  them  from  ignition. 

Beaumont  watched  the  disaster  with  intense 
interest.  \Miat  if  a  fire  should  occur  there, 
where  the  derricks  are  so  numerous  ?  In  sym- 
pathy with  her   sister   the   town  sent   over  on  a 

special  train  the  only  fire- 
engine  she  had.  At 
Jennings  four  fast  horses 
awaited  its  arrival.  Hastily 
harnessed,  they  set  off  at 
full  speed,  covering  the 
distance  through  the  high 
grass  in  less  than  thirty 
minutes.  But  the  engine 
was  of  no  use  ;  the  flam- 
ing oil  ran  triumphantly 
over  the  surface  of  the 
water. 

\\'hat  a  spectacle  it  was  ! 
Night  and  day  the  fire 
burned  at  its  own  sweet 
will.  It  could  be  seen 
by  day  for  thirty  miles 
around,  and  its  glow  in  the 
darkness  was  visible,  for 
fifty.  All  day  long  the 
great  pitchy  volume  roared 
and  soared  and  rolled  at 
the  caprice  of  the  wind, 
firrt  rushing  miles  along 
the  earth,  sending  the 
spectators  fleeing  out  of  its  path,  then  rising  sud- 
denly right  ujj  to  the  zenith  and  si)reading  out 
like  a  vast  umbreli.i.  .\t  night  it  was  indescribable. 
During  the  si.\  days  and  an  hour  that  the  fire 
inirned  the  plans  suggested  and  the  experiments 
tried  U{)on  it  were  ir.numerable.  It  was  first 
flooded  with  water,  which  only  spread  its  area  and 
rose  in  steam  from  its  surface.  Then  car-loads 
of  chemicals  were  brought  from  New  Orleans, 
iiut  when  ai)plied  tn  the  fiery  cauldron  they  onlv 
suffocated  and  drove  back  their  administrators. 

Meanwhile  '[xw:  thousand  barrels  of  precious 
oil  per  day  were  going  up  in  smoke.  In 
des[)air  the  distracted  owners  of  the  well  offered 
ten  thousand  dollars  to  anybody  who  could 
extinguish  the  flames. 

At  this  announcement  our  hiend  jack  Ennis 
hied  himself  to  the  scene  of  the  lire.  He  was 
the  only  a|)plirant  for  the  ten   thou.sand  dollars. 


IICIIIINC     A     llKi:     luK    A     lOkTUNL". 


329 


He  LikI  liis  project  before  the  Heyward 
Brothers,  the  owners  of  the  well.  His  notion 
seemed  absurd,  for  he  suggested  nudiing  less 
than  i>/i>wi/ig  out  the  fire  -u  conflai^raliun  that 
water  and  chemicals  had  no  effect  upon  I 
Such  a  thing  might  do  on  a  little  fire,  but 
one  like  this — —  !  Still,  every  other  effort 
had  proved  futile  ;  the  cost  of  the  experiment 
would  be  only  a  few  thousand  dollars ;  and  if 
it  were  successful  it  would  save  as  much  in  a 


ihis  was  attached  to  the  boileis  and  led  up  to 
the  edge  of  the  (lames.  Meanwhile  'Jlcam  was 
got  up.     A    circle    of  sal    am  was   laid 

around  to  keep  the  oil  and  tiu,  ;.,..  iroin  '  ■  -■  • 
blown  along  the  ground.  When  the  ■ 
of  acid  was  complete  and  all  else  in  readi- 
ness ICnnis  gave  his  signal.  Each  engineer  had 
his  instructions  to  the  letter,  and,  like  the 
gunners  of  a  battleship  discharging  a  broad- 
side, they  turned  on  the  steam  simult-uieously. 
A  hiss  so  powerful  that  it  roared  burst  from 
the  noz/les  of  the  many  pipes.  The  steam 
charged  the  fire  gallantly,  and  the  two 
elements  engaged  in  a  furious  struggle  for 
mastery.  The  fire  fell  back  before  the  on- 
I  slaught,  but  that  manceuvre  had  been  antici- 
pated -its  way  was  blocked.  It  could  n<jt 
cross  the  no.xious  fumes  generated  by  tiie 
heaps  of  chemicals,  renewed  continually  by 
an  army  of  men.  As  the  flames  gave  way  the 
steam-pipes  were  pushed  gradually  forward. 


J' I  on:  u  I'liolc.  iy\ 


THE    FlKi;    .\  r    lis    llllli.HT. 


day.     So,  as  a  last  resort,  the  owners  consented 
to  let  the  Te.xan  try  his  scheme. 

Ennis  prom])tly  telegraphed  to  every  city 
within  reasonable  distance  for  portable  steam 
boilers,  'i'he  following  morning  every  railway 
train  brought  in  one  or  more,  and  all  day  long 
they  were  being  dispatched  to  the  oil  -  field. 
There  they  were  lined  up  on  the  windward  side 
of  the  flames,  as  near  to  them  as  their  operators 
could  stand  to  work.  Waggon-loads  of  four-inch 
pipe  were  arriving  as  fast  as  the  boilers.  Some 
of   it    was   pliable   hose  and  some  heavy   iron. 


e.i: 


r!- 


The  fire  fought  hara  for  life,  le 

poorly-guarded  spots  every  now  a 

ing  firm,  and  in  turn  putting  the  fighters  lo  i 

I'inaily,  however,   the   flames   i 

lli(  ker.     Their  fate  was  sealed. 

one  left  the  surface  a  mighty  shout  went  up  from 

a  thousand  parched  throat 

fire- fighter,    Jack    Ennis,    i.' 

thousand  dollars  on  the  sj>ot  ■  \  well 

he  deserved  it.     It  was  li 

black  canopy  of  sn; 

the  westward  :  but  • 


Vol.  X.— 42. 


is- 


J 


We  have  pleasure  in  informing  our 
readers  that  we  commissioned  Mr. 
Bart  Kennedy — whose  graphically- 
told  stories  of  his  experiences  in  many 
lands  have  proved  so  popular  to 
tramp  through  the  length  and  breadth 
of  Spain,  that  most  romantic  of  Euro- 
pean countries.  Mr.  Kennedy  knew 
not  a  word  of  the  language,  carried  no 
outfit  beyond  a  revolver  and  a  camera, 
and  made  the  journey  afoot  right  to  the 
Pyrenees.  This  was  not  Mr.  Kennedy's 
first  experience  as  a  tramp  in  a  strange  land, 
and  his  trip  proved  full  of  interest  and,  of 
course,  not  a  little  adventure,  seeing  that 
some  of  the  wildest  and  most  inaccessible 
spots  in  Europe  are  to  be  found  in  the 
land  of  the  Dons.  It  is  safe  to  say  that 
this  journey  has  never  been  essayed  by  an 
Englishman  under  similar  circumstances 
before. 


WAS  awakened  by  a  loud  knocking 
on  the  door.  Sleepily  1  got  up  and 
opened  it.  Before  me  stood  a  man 
with  a  light.  "  Cuatro  !  "  (four),  he 
said,  in  his  deep  Spanish  voice, 
and  went  away. 

And  then  1  remembered  it  all.  It  was  four 
o'clock  in  the  morning — as  dark  as  pitch — and 
to-day  was  the  day  that  I  had  to  begin  to  tackle 
the  Cerro  de  Mulhacen  (Muley  Has.san),  the 
highest  mountain  in  S[)ain,  and  only  practicable 
for  climbing  in  summer. 

I  had  only  had  two  hours'  sleep,  and  the 
foolishness  generally  of  climbing  mountains 
struck  me  forcibly.  To  tramp  along  a  good 
road  was  all  right,  but  for  a  man  to  voluntarily 
climb  a  high  mountain  when  no  one  was  after 
him  -  well,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  it  was  an  un- 
called-for exercise.  And  I  was  half-determined 
to  go  back  to  my  needed  and  well-earned 
repose.  The  night  before  I  had  been  gazing  ot^ 
the  sights  of  (iranada  and  I  felt  tired. 

But  I  was  in  for  it ;  I  couldn't  go  back.  I 
had  engaged  the  guide.  He  was  to  call  for 
me  this  morning. 

Down  I  went  into  the  office  and  inquired  for 
Fernando,  the  guide.    To  my  joy  I  was  informed. 

Copyright,    1903.   by 


through  a  sort  of  compound  gesture,  that  he  luul 
not  yet  arrived.  I  pretended  to  be  much 
annoyed.  "Cuatro!"  I  exclaimed,  indignantly. 
"  Why  no  Fernando  ? "  And  then  I  ciuickly 
retired  upstairs.  As  I  went  to  bed  again  I 
must  confess  that  I  hoped  Fernando  would 
forget  tlie  a[)pointnient,  or  work  the  "  nianana  " 
act,  or  get  lost,  or  do  sometiiing  or  other  thai 
was  intelligent. 

I  was  asleep  and  dreaming  of  the  Strand 
when  I  was  again  knocked  into  wakefulness. 
It  was  broad  daylight  now,  and  1  o[)ened  the 
door  with  trepidation. 

"  Fernando  I  "  .said  the  man.  It  was  the 
laconic  gentleman  who  had  roused  me  u[) 
before. 

"  Why  didn't  Fernando  come  cuatro  ? "  I 
asked.  "  Four  o'clock,  as  he  said  he'd  come  ? 
No  buena  ! "  And  as  the  man  was  departing 
along  the  corridor  I  relapsed  into  pure,  pithy 
Saxon  about  things  in  general  and  mountain- 
climbing  in  particular. 

But  at  last  I  was  prepared,  and  standing 
under  the  great  cool  elms  in  front  of  the  en- 
trance to  the  Hotel  Siete  Suelo.s.  Before  me 
was  the  guide  Fernando — a  tall,  rather  slight, 
but  toughened-looking  man,  with  a  very  dark, 
intelligent  face  and  large  dark  eyes.      This  man 

(jcorge  Newncs,    Limited. 


A    TkAMl'     IN     SPAIN. 


^:^^ 


was  lu  take  me  to  tlio  highest  [)jjak  of  the  Sierra 
Nevada  and  back  again  in  three  days.  As  lie 
stood  witli  his  long  gun  slung  across  his  back, 
he  might  at  first  sight  have  suggested  an 
Ameriian  backwootlsman  with  a  touch  of 
Indian  blood  in  liiin.  lUil  the  suggestion  would 
be  misleading.  For  one  thing  he  had  not  the 
alertness  of  the  man  of  the  West,  and  there  were 
other  points  of  difference  too  subtle  to  describe. 
However,  he  looked  a  man  who  was  absolutely 
to  be  depended  upon.  He  had  been  sent  to 
me  by  the  ICnglish  Consul. 

Oft  we  started  with  the  two  mules  and  the 
driver,  Toma,  a  young  fellow  from  the  village 
near  by.  \\c  had  also  with  us  Fernando's  dog 
— Tula,  a  pointer.  Food  for  three  days,  and 
blankets  and  sheepskins  to  lie  on,  and  fodder 
were  packed  on  the  mules,  which  were  strong, 
serviceable,  quiet-looking  animals.  I  walked 
between  the  mules  whilst  F'ernando  went  in 
front  with  his  dog,  and  Toma  followed  behind. 
We  passed  along  the  road  to  the  left  till  we  were 
out  of  the  Alhambra  Park. 

We  were  now  at  the  bottom  of  the  road,  and 
1  was  feeling  distinctly  better.      I  was  no  longer 
dwelling   upon    my  foolishness   in   tackling   the 
mountain.     The  fresh,  cool,   beautiful 
air  of   the   morning    began   to   inspire 
me.      It  was  not  such  a  great  feat  after 
all,  I  thought — only  a  small  matter  of 
between  eleven  and    twelve   thousand 
feet.       There    were 
men      who     would 
have  eaten 
M  u  1  e  y 
Hassan, 
so  to speak 
—  fe  1 1  o  vv  s 
who    tack- 
led moun- 
tains for 
the  simple 
reason 
that    they 
were   high 
and     diffi- 
cult ;    and 
I  began  to 
think  of  the  glori- 
ous and  wonder- 
ful   scenery    that 
I    would    see    in 
the  course  of  the 
day.      At    this 
time  I  must  con- 
fess  that    I    was 
going     along     a 
fine,  broad  road. 

We   turned  — 


and  there  were  the  niounlaiii-. .  i  i-  a-  uu  de 
\'eleta,"  said  Fernando  to  me,  pomling  to  the 
highest.  We  were  to  sleep  on  the  slope  of  the 
peak  that  night. 

It  was  a  grand-looking  mountain  ---  but  it 
looked  a  good  many  miles  away  1  Indeed,  it 
seemed  to  me  as  if  it  might  have  been  up  in  the 
moon,  it  had  such  a  distant  look  about  it ; 
and  there  were  great  shining  sjjaces  of  snow  on 
ii.  It  was  only  thirty-five  feet  lower  than 
iMuley  Hassan,  which  lay  off  behind  it,  and 
which  we  could  not  .see. 

At  the  outside  of  the  town  l-ernando  stopjxid 
at  a  little  wineshop.  The  three  of  us  left  the 
mules  outside  and  went  in  to  gel  a  drink  of 
aguardiente.  The  woman  who  kept  the  wine- 
shop asked  Fernando  a  lot  of  questions  about 
the  "Ingles" — myself  When  Fernando  s|)okc 
the  words  "  Muley  Hassan,"  it  seemed  to  my 
observant  eye  she  looked  at  me  a  bit  strangely 
and  smiled  ever  so  faintly.  Here  Fernando  got 
a  skin  with  wine  in  it  for  himself  ami  T(.nia, 
and  I  got  a  small  bottle  of  aguardientt 

We  were  outside  the  town  now,  and  facing  on 
towards  the  distant  clearness  of  the  I'icacho  de 
\eleta.       To    me    it    looked    like    some    far-off 


'she    LOOKEP   at    MK    a    bit   »T«AS<iBI  \ 


332 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    AIACIAZINE. 


starry  ideal— something  that  wanted  a  lot  of 
reaching.  But  I  felt  well  enough  in  the  coolish 
morning  air.  It  was  only  coolish  now,  soon  it 
would  be  blazing  hot,  and  the  thing  was  to  make 
hay— or  rather  pace — before  the  sun  got 
properly  wakened  up.  In  the  South  of  Spain 
in  the  summer  the  sun  is  a  force  to  be 
reckoned  with. 

We  had  not  gone  a  great  way  before  Fer- 
nando stopped  one  of  the  mules  alongside  a 
big  stone  and  signed  for  me  to  climb  u[)  on  to 
its  back,  but  I  politely  dissented.  In  the  first 
l)lace  I  was  not  at  all  sure  that  I  could  stick  on 
the  mule's  back.  By  the  way,  he  went  by  the 
name  of  Repertore.  Now,  Repertore  looked 
quiet  enough  ;  but,  to  my  eye,  beneath  his 
quietude  of  aspect  there  was  an  expression  of 
extreme  pessimism  and  dislike  of  things  in 
general.  He  might  play  all  sorts  of  games 
with  me  once  I  was 
on  his  back.  So  I 
decided  to  trust  to 
my  own  legs.  \\'alk- 
ing  was  good  for 
me,  and,  besides,  I 
thought  1  might  as 
well  show  these 
Spaniards  how  well 
an  Englishman  could 
walk.  I  secretly 
determined  not  to 
get  on  a  mule's  back 
during  the  whole  of 
the  three  days. 

Without  more  ado 
Fernando  got  on  to 
the  back  of  the  mule 
himself,  and  we 
plodded  along  mer- 
rily towards  the  far- 
distant  peak.  No- 
thing worth  chroni- 
cling   happened    till 

another  half-hour  had  passed.  It  was  then  that 
Toma  stopped  the  mule  he  was  driving  and 
signed  for  me  to  jump  uj)  and  take  it  easy,  liut 
again  I  |)olitely  declined,  and  Toma  quickly 
followed  the  example  of  Fernando  by  getting  on 
to  the  back  of  Turiddu,  the  second  mule. 

We  must  now  have  presented  a  most 
humorous  spectacle  from  the  Spanish  point  of 
view,  for  everyone  who  passed  us  grinned 
broadly.  The  fact  of  the  financier  of  the 
expedition  walking,  whilst  the  guide  and  the 
driver  rode,  evidently  seemed  to  them  a  most 
absurd  anomaly.  And  I  must  confess  that  as 
the  time  passed  and  the  sun  got  hotter  it 
seemed  a  bit  of  an  anomaly  even  to  myself — 
an   anomaly   shorn    of  humour.     Still,    I    had 


mind     to     walk. 


cUK 


I     walk     I 


l-yoiiin\       •nil-:  <,Liiii-;   ii-.hnandu  wnii   iii-i   um;    lui-.x.         [I'lioto. 


made     up     my 
would. 

^\.ll  at  once  the  sun  seemed  to  blaze  out  like 
a  furnace.  We  had  got  into  the  Sierras,  and 
had  entered  a  dip  between  two  far-away  moun- 
tains. As  near  as  I  could  make  out,  it  was 
these  mountains  that  caused  the  heat,  by 
stopping  the  breeze  from  getting  to  us.  The 
sudden  rising  of  temperature  was  one  of  the 
most  curious  things  I  have  ever  known — we 
seemed  to  pass  into  intense  heat  in  an  instant. 
There  may  have  been  some  other  explanation 
for  it,  but  at  the  time  there  was  little  use  in 
requiring  involved  explanations  from  Fernando. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  neither  he  nor  'J'oma  knew 
a  word  of  English. 

The  scenery  here  was  beautiful,  but  for  me 
its  beauty  was  tempered  too  much  with  sun,  so 
to  speak.    I  seemed  to  be  walking  in  the  middle 

of  a  furnace. 

To  properly  ap- 
preciate the  beautiful 
one  must  first  of  all 
feel  comfortable,  and 
1  can't  say  I  felt 
comfortable.  I  was 
in  a  sort  of  rain  of 
perspiration,  and 
ahead  of  me  sat  Fer- 
nando on  his  mule, 
looking  calm  and 
cool  and  collected. 
Over  his  head  he 
held  an  umbrella  to 
shade  himself  from 
the  rays  of  the  sun. 
He  had  two  umbrel- 
las, one  of  which  he 
had  offered  me  some 
time  before.  I  had 
declined  it,  however, 
and  it  was  no  w 
strongly  borne  upon 
me  that  his  asking  me  to  ride  on  the  mule  in 
the  first  place  was  no  mere  empty  politeness  ; 
he  knew  how  I  was  going  to  feel  much  better 
than  I  did. 

This  walking  u[)  a  steady  incline  in  the 
intense  heat  was  too  much  in  the  nature  of  work 
to  suit  me  ;  and  I  began  to  gaze  on  the  beauty 
of  the  scenery  with  a  jaundiced  eye.  I  was 
wishing  I'ernando  would  again  ask  me  to  get  up 
on  the  mule  ;  but  he  didn't.  He  seemed  to  be 
going  on  in  a  sort  of  a  comfortable  half  doze. 
I  would  have  asked  to  be  let  get  up  myself,  but 
1  felt  rather  ashamed  ;  it  seemed  somewhat  like 
giving  in  !  I  looked  forward  towards  the  Picacho 
de  Veleta,  but  I  could  not  see  it.  It  had  gone; 
where,  I  neither  knew  nor  cared. 


A    'I'KAMI'     IN     >1'AIN. 


333 


'•  I'eiiiaiuK)  !  "  1  shouted  at  lasl.  Aixl  in  i 
moment  lluil  sagacious  man  was  down  oft  the 
back  of  R(.-[)<.itort',  and  in  another  two  moments 
I  was  uj)  on  the  nuile,  sealed  conitortaljly  on  a 
bag  of  fodder,  with  an  umbrella  over  my  head. 
Fernando  got  up  on  Turiddu  and  'I'onia 
stationed  himself  behiiul  Kepertore  and  jK-r- 
suaded   him  gently  along. 

I  had  never  ridden  a  mule  before,  and  I  was 
surprised  to  find  how  easy  it  was.  Repertore 
had  the  slow,  easy  motion  of  a  sailing  ship 
going  before  a  fair,  moderate  wind. 

It  was  now  that  the   full  glory  of  the  btauty 
of  the    Sierra    Nevada   broke  in    upon    me.      I 
could  take    it    in    in   huge 
draughts  from  the  back  of 
Rei)ertore. 

The  incline  of  the  ascent 
became  sharper,  and  off 
in  the  distance 
behind  I  could 
see  Oranada 
lying  white  and 
shining  at  the 
foot  of  the 
mountains.  On 
the  hills  to  the 
right  I  could 
make  out  the 
green  of  the 
trees  round 
the  Alhambra, 
the  old  palace 
of  the  Moors. 

W  e  were 
just  about  to 
enter  a  wide 
gorge  when 
Fernando  dis- 
mounted from 
Turiddu  and 
came  towards 
me.  He  tried 
to  tell  me  some- 
thing, but  I 
understood 
him  no  more 
than  the  dead, 
and  we  stop- 
ped for  a  mo- 
meni  while  he 
consulted 
Toma.  Then 
T  o  m  a  also 
tried  to  tell  me 
this  important 
.something,  but 
I     understood  ,  „.,„ 

,  .  ,.     ,  "kki'krtouk  was    sTEr-i'iNi;    more  on  Tilt 

nmi  as  hltle  as  edgk  ok  thk  iatm  thas  usuau" 


I  dill  I'emando.  I  thought  ihal  th<  v  w«  i<- 
trying  to  tell    me  something   intti  m 

the  scenery,  but   it  turned  out  ai  ihat 

they   Were   not.     They  were  come. ;ur  my 

welfare  and  safety,  though  I  di<l  not  knmv  it  at 
the  time. 

As    we     \Si  le     gt'liig     .lioli^     iiic  luc 

gorge  it  struck  me  that  my  days  of  .r  crvice 

would  be  suddenly  cut  short  if  Kepertore  were 
to  make  a  sli|).  I  should  go  hurling  down 
several  hundred  feet  and  the  life  would  be 
knocked  clean  out  of  me  long  before  I  got  to 
the  bottom.  And  what  added  vividness  to  my 
thoughts    concerning   the   matter  was   the  fact 

thai  Kepertore 
had  taken  a 
fancy  to  walk- 
i  n g  on  the 
\cry,  very  edge 
of  the  narrow 
path.  I  tried 
to  rein  him 
away,  but  he 
would  persist. 
l!e  was  sure- 
footed, of 
course,  but 
even  a  mule 
will  sometimes 
slip.  I  got 
nervou.s,  and 
for  a  moment 
I  thought  the 
best  thing  I 
could  do  would 
be  to  d  i  s  - 
m  o  u  n  t  an  d 
walk.  Hut  1 
had  had  a  sur- 
feit of  walking 
and  the  path 
was  so  narrow 
that  I  hardly 
liked  to  chance 
jumping  off.' 
Kepen.itc  was 
going  a 
lutely  ali'u^  >.  i 
cd_-c  :\r.i\  I 
didn't  like  to  distui 
I  was  sittin  -^ 

mule  in  a  iiiv  -  

and   if  he  slipiKil  I 

I  lie  weight  of  him  on  i  'i 

me  down  the  side  of  the  '    "  

sudden  smashing  into  ti 


wise  !     Why  couldn't  I  turn  and  sit 
from  the  edge  of  the  al 
slipped  I  should  hav-- 


It 

■  le 

g 


JJ' 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


forward  on  the  path  whilst  Repertore  negotiated 
his  downward  flight  alone  ?  No  sooner  thought 
of  than  acted  upon.  I  worked  my  leg  over  to 
my  left  cautiously,  whilst  Repertore  was  step- 
ping more  on  the  edge  of  the  path  than  usual. 
Indeed,  at  times  it  seemed  as  if  half  the  brute's 
hoofs  protruded  out  over  the  edge  when  he  set 
them  down. 

When  I  had  got  myself  safely  round  I  heard 
Fernando  say,  "  Buena,  Seiior  I  "  He  was  a 
few  yards  behind  me,  and  when  I  turned  my 
head  slowly  to  look  at  him  he  was  nodding 
approval  and  sitting  on  his  mule  as  I  was  sitting 
now  on  mine.  Toma  was  walking  between  us, 
and  then  the  whole  thing  flashed  upon  me. 
Fernando  and  Toma  had  been  trying  to  tell 
me  to  sit  like  this  before  we  entered  the  gorge. 
Not  knowing  a  word  of  Spanish  had  in  this 
instance  been  dangerous. 

We  were  far  away  from  the  gorge  now,  and 
the  heat  of  the  sun  was  roasting.  It  bore  down 
through  the  umbrella  I  carried  and  through  my 
pith  helmet,  and  turned  my  head  into  fire.  We 
were  up  now,  I  should  think,  about  six  thou- 
sand feet,  and  one  would  have  thought  it  would 
have  got  cooler.  But  such  was  not  the  case. 
It  got  hotter  and  hotter.  I  could  almost  feel 
the  skin  crackling  on  my  face.  Now  and  then  I 
thought  of  I'oma,  who  was  walking  a  foot  behind 
me,  urging  Repertore  along.  In  a  vague  way 
I  wondered  how  he  contrived  to  manage  at  all, 
but  I  suppose  he  was  used  to  the  heat  and  to  the 
mountains.  As  for  me,  I  would  not  have  got  off 
the  back  of  Repertore  now  for  a  king's  ransom. 

We  stopped  under  the  shadow  of  a  great  rock 
to  get  something  to  eat.  Never  was  shade 
more  refreshing.  To  recline  in  it  was  like 
reclining  in  some  cool,  delightful  heaven — the 
beauty  and  charm  of  the  shade  of  this  rock  far 
surpassed  the  beauty  and  charm  of  the  whole  of 
the  Sierra  Nevada  lum[)ed  up  together. 

Repertore  and  Turiddu  began  to  munch 
industriously  at  the  surrounding  herbage,  and 
Fernando  and  'ioma  got  out  the  provisions, 
whilst  I  reclined  at  full  length  and  thought 
easily  about  nothing. 

It  turned  out  that  the  hotel  waiter  had  for- 
gotten two  small  trifles  in  the  putting  up  of  my 
provisions.  These  trifles  were  a  corkscrew  and 
some  salt.  Fernando  had  some  salt,  however, 
and  shared  it  with  me,  but  I  had  to  dig  out  the 
cork  from  a  bottle  of  Rioja  with  a  broad-bladed 
knife,  a  slow  o{)eration  when  one  is  thirsty. 

After  eating  I  had  a  short  sleep,  during  which 
I  dreamed  of  the  cool,  green  shades  of  the 
Alhambra.  But  the  voice  of  Fernando  calling 
out  "  Sehor  !  "  put  a  stop  to  the  delightful  rest, 
and  I  reluctantly  pulled  myself  together  and 
climbed  up  on  to  the  back  of  Repertore. 


Out  into  the  sun.  We  were  now  going  at  a 
smart  pace  along  the  trail,  and  it  seemed  to  me 
as  if  the  heat  were  dying  down  slightly.  That 
we  were  up  high  I  could  tell  by  the  feel  of  the 
air  in  breathing.  The  wonder  to  me  was  that 
it  could  be  so  hot  at  such  a  height.  We  must 
have  been  up  close  on  to  eight  thousand  feet, 
and  still  the  heat  was  trying. 

At  last  we  were  well  up  over  the  snow  line. 
The  air  was  cooler,  and  we  got  to  the  Laguna 
de  las  Zezuas,  a  weird-looking  mountain  lake, 
almost  ten  thousand  feet  up.  We  rested  for  a 
while  here,  and  Toma  suggested  to  me  by 
signs  that  I  should  go  into  the  lake  for  a 
swim,  l)ut  I  would  not  have  gone  in  on  any 
account.  '1  hough  a  small  lake,  it  looked  weird 
and  dark,  and  towards  the  centre  it  turned  to 
blackness.  It  was  a  place  of  great  depth  in 
the  middle  of  a  vast  amphitheatre  formed  by 
mountains.  Snow  had  lain  here  through  thou- 
sands and  thousands  of  years,  an  eternal 
whiteness  that  tlirew  into  the  lake  a  sinister 
reflection  that  was  gradually  absorbed  in  the 
darkness. 

The  breathing  here  was,  for  me,  a  little  diffi- 
cult. I  noticed  it  most  when  I  was  lying  down. 
In  taking  a  long  breath  I  felt  now  and  then  a 
sort  of  catch  and  a  choke.  At  ten  thousand 
feet  one  begins  to  feel  the  difference  in  the  air. 

It  is  usual  for  people  to  pass  the  night  at 
this  lake,  and  push  on  the  next  morning  for  the 
I'icacho  de  Veleta,  which  was  only  a  matter  of 
about  four  miles  away.  But  we  had  made  up 
our  minds  to  get  on  to  the  peak  that  night,  and 
so  we  started. 

There  was  no  trail  leading  from  here  to  the 
peak,  and  we  had  to  follow  Fernando,  who  went 
ahead,  looking  out  the  easiest  way  to  ascend. 
He  led  one  mule  and  Toma  led  the  other ;  I 
followed  behind.  The  ascent  was  too  rugged 
and  difficult  now  for  us  to  ride. 

And  here  it  was  that  I  experienced  the  first 
real,  rough  work  of  the  journey,  and  but  for  the 
fact  that  the  air  was  cool  I  don't  know  how  I 
should  have  managed.  I  began  to  gasp  from 
the  exertion  and  the  thinness  of  the  air.  I  was 
in  every  way  unfitted  for  the  climb — I  was  out 
of  training,  I  had  had  no  slee[)  the  night  before, 
I  was  three  stone  too  heavy  for  the  work,  and 
lots  of  other  things.  And,  to  make  it  more 
interesting  still,  I  was  not  wearing  the  right  kind 
of  shoes  for  climbing  in  the  Sierras.  I  had  on 
a  pair  of  "ammunitions" — English  Army  shoes 
with  steel  corner  tips  on  the  heels.  I  was 
slipping  and  sliding  all  over  the  place  on  those 
steel  tips.  What  I  ought  to  have  been  wearing 
were  a  pair  of  rope  .sandals  without  heels — such 
as  P'ernando  and  Toma  wore  ;  the  shoes  I  had 
on  were  only  good  for  tram[)ing  along  roads. 


A    TKAMI-     I\     SPAIN. 


.135 


Just  as  I  was  about  to  drop  in  my  tracks  from 
faliL;ue  a  wonderful  itlta  came  to  me  an  L-ffer 
tive,  simple  itlea  an  idea  of  genius.  I  made  a 
desperate  sj>urt  upwards  and  grabbed  kepcrtore 
by  the  tail.  I  was  saved  !  Of  course,  the  mule 
nn'ght  launch 
out  and  kick 
me  across  the 
mountains, 
l)ut  life  isn't 
1  i  f  e  if  one 
doesn't  take  a 
chance  or  two. 
\'  e  s ,  I  was 
saved  !  (lal- 
lant,  good  old 
Repertore  had 
too  much  work 
to  do  to  think 
about  kicking 
me  off.  He  had 
to  get  himself 
up  and  drag 
ni  e  up  the 
mountain  too. 
T  o  m  a  was 
leading  him  on 
at  a  smart 
pace,  and  I 
envied  Toma. 
He  was  used 
f)  mountains 
and  weighed 
only  about  ten 
stone;  I  hadn't 
seen  mouii 
tains  for  a  long 
time,  and  I 
was  close  on 
to  fourteen 
stone. 

I  clung  like 
a  lim])et  to  the 
noble  Reper- 
tore, and  lo 
and  behold  ! 
we  were  on 
the  top.  The 
long  day's 
work  was  over. 
Here  we  could 
rest,    and    eat 

and  sleej),  and  be  thankful.  'I'here  were  three 
or  four  rough  stone  enclosures  that  had  been 
built  to  give  shelter  to  men  and  mules. 

For  me  it  was  a  glorious  moment.  I  had 
completed  successfully  a  hard  day's  work  through 
the  help  of  a  simple  luminous  idea.  All  day 
long  I  had  been  doubting  the  soundness  of  my 


'  1  CKABBED  RF.rERTORE    llV  THE  TAIL.' 


intelligence  for  undertaking  ;,.     y 
but  that   sharp,  (juick   idea  aljoiit   ^ 
mule's  tail  '     It  brought  back  part  of  lie 
for    my    intellect   generally   which    II 

1  lay  and  chuckled  about  it,  and  when  I       u 

took  mc  over 
to  show  nu- 
the  M' -'it'  ":\- 
nean, .  t 

he  alleged  was 
Africa,  or '-' 
other    «  n 
nent,  I    still 
chuckled. 

As    usual, 
there     was     a 
mist  lying  over 
the  mountain.s. 
I  have  never  in 
my  life  known 
it   to  fail   yet. 
Before     you 
climb  a  moun 
lain  you  are  filled  with 
legends  concerning    the 
wonders    that    will     be 
spread  out   before   your 
gaze.     Vou   are  told  of 
strange,   gorgeous    sun- 
sets, of  sights  of  appal- 
ling magnificence.    And 
you  see    nothing  but    a 
sort   of   thin    mist   that 
effectually  hides   things 
in      the     distance.       A 
mountain  climber  must 
be  a  person  blessed  with 
unlimited    faith    ami 
imagination.      He    must 
lake  things  on  trust,  and 
when  he  gets  back  to  the  earth  again 
he   must   depend   upon  skilful  and 
artistic  lying  for  the  getting  of  fine 
narrative  effect. 

To  mc  the  most   nnpi 
about    mountains    is    tl- 
one  feels  so  alone. 
Off  over  there  lay  Muley  Hassan-  a 
sullen-looking  mountain.       To   reach  r 
come  back  here  to  the  I'icacho  de  \'< 
back  again  to  the  I.aguna  de  las 
work  for  the  next  day. 

It  was  a  little  cold  up  here 
mountain,  but  that  did  not  I 
was    otherwise,    however.    « 
Toma.     I    suppose   ."^^  ■ 
than  do  Knglishnun. 
with  a  sort  of  shawl  v 
He  looked  liken  mil-  i.j^.w.d. 


mg  silence 


>!i  the  top  of  the 


•>  s 


iioul^ 


336 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


Twilight  was  upon  us  by  this  time,  and  I'onia 
had  started  a  fire  under  the  shelter  of  a  rock, 
and  had  put  on  a  pan  filled  with  snow  for  the 
making  of  the  coffee.  He  had  brought  up  a 
small  heap  of  snow  from  a  drift  near  at  hand, 
and  he  fed  the  snow  into  the  pan  as  it  melted, 
and  soon  the  water  was  boihng  merrily  and  the 
coffee  was  made. 

It    was    then    I    discovered    that    the    pro- 
visions I  had  got  from   the  hotel  were  hardly 
the  best  suited  for  sustaining  one  in  the  climb- 
ing of  mountains.    The  guide's  provisions  were 
much    better— at   least,    I    liked    them    much 
better  —  so 
we    made   an 
exchange.  He 
ate  mine  and 
I  ate  his. 

Just  as  we 
were  finishing 
our  coffee  we 
heard  a  shout, 
and  I'ernando 
Went  forward, 
returning  in  a 
few  moments 
with  two  men. 
They  were 
wild  -  looking 
fellows,  wear- 
ing shawls, 
and  my  first 
hoi)e  was  that 
they  were 
brigands.  But 
they  were  not; 
they  were 
manzanilleros 
—  men  who 
gathered 
manzanilia  up 
here  in  the 
mountains.  It 
is  a  delicious- 
smelling  herb,  ' 
which  seemed 
to  nie  to  be 
something  like  cam- 
omile. When  they 
have  got  a  big  enough 

load  of  it,  they  carry  it  down  on  their  backs  into 
(Jranada  to  dispose  of.  One  of  the  manzanilleros 
wanted  to  sell  me  some  for  three  pesetas. 

The  twilight  had  by  this  time  fallen  into 
darkness,  and  we  were  all  sitting  round  the 
brightly  blazing  fire.  There  was  plenty  of  dried 
wood  at  hand  to  keej)  it  going,  and  I  felt  very 
comfortable  as  I  lay  on  a  sheepskin.  Toma 
was   singing   a    Spanish    song.     After   he    had 


finished   I   sang  a   song,   and   then    one  of  the 
manzanilleros  sang. 

The  voices  sounded  so  strangely  here  on  the 
top  of  the  mountain.  It  seemed  as  if  the  thin- 
ness  of  the  air  robbed  them  somewhat  of  the 

fulness  of 
quality.  But 
what  they  lost 
that  way  they 
must  ha  v  e 
gained  in 
carrying 
power.  One 
felt  that  they 
rang  out  over 
the  dark  soli- 
tudes for  miles 
and  miles. 

Each  of  us 
stood  up  in 
turn  before 
the  fire  as  we 
sang,  and  the 
effect  was  odd 
and  strange. 
It  was  especi- 
ally so  when 
1'"  e  r  n  a  n  d  o 
sang.  His 
song  was  a 
sort  of  chant, 
perhaps  com- 
ing from  the 
time  of  the 
Moors.  The 
nickering  and 
waving  of  the 
fire  threw  out 
l)ehind  him 
a  long,  con- 
torted sha- 
dow, and  there 
was  an  ex[)res- 
sion  that  I 
could  not  de- 
fine or  in  any 
way  under- 
stand in  his 
face. 

Being  here 
perhaps,  the 
The  solitude 


HIS   SO.SG    WAS    A    SOUT   OK    CHANT. 


was. 


on  this  mountain  lop 
strangest  e.xperience  of  my  life, 
and  the  darkness,  and  the  strange  singing, 
and  the  waving,  fitful  fire,  and  the  fact  of  not 
being  able  to  exchange  a  word  with  my  odd 
companions,  altogether  made  an  impression  on 
me  which  was  totally  unlike  any  I  had  ever 
received  before  throughout  the  whole  of  an 
adventurous,  up-and-down  life. 


A     IkAMl'     IN    Sl'AIN. 


537 


When  we  turned  \n  I  lay  on  sheepskins 
in  one  of  the  rough  enclosures,  with  a  blanket 
over  me.  My  revolver  was  under  my  head, 
ready  to  my  hand.  In  life  it  is  always  well  to 
be  prepared.  When  we  are  prepared,  nothing 
happens  ;  everything  goes  smoothly.  Fernando 
and  Toma  were  all  right,  but  I  knew  nothing 
of  the  manzanilleros. 

For  hours  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  heard  the 
voices  of  the  Spaniards  from  one  of  the  other 
enclosures.  One  could  hear  things  with  such 
distinctness  up  hnv.  I  tried  to  catch  the 
drift  of  what  they  were  talking  about.  Hut  that 
was,  of  course,  impossible,  and  in  the  end  I  fell 
asleep.  The  last  thing  I  remember  was  noticing 
how  dim  the  stars  looked  overhead. 

In  the  grey  of  the  morning  we  were  again 
around  the  fire.  Toma  was  putting  snow  into 
the  pan  for  making  the  coffee.  Fernando  was 
moving  about,  looking  more  like  a  shawled 
brigand  than  ever,  and  the  manzanilleros  were 
bringing  up  wood  to  keep  the  fire  going. 

Whilst  breakfast  was  being  got  ready  I  thought 
I  might  as  well  go  round  by  the  big  boulders 
and  see  how  the  view  was  getting  along.  I 
wanted  to  give  the  scenery  a  chance  to  dis- 
tinguish itself,  but  it  was  still  modestly  shrouded 
behind  that  everlasting  thin  mist. 

I  turned  my  eyes  to  the  east  to  watch  the 
rising  of  the  sun.  An  English-speaking,  travelled 
Spanish  gentleman  down  in  (jranada  had  told 
me  a  marvellous  tale  concerning  the  way  the 
sun  got  to  work  up  in  the  mountains  here. 

He  said  that  it  wound  up  and  up  spirally, 
like  a  snake.  Why  the  sun  should  behave  in 
such  an  extraordinary  manner  in  this  part  of  the 
world  puzzled  me ;  but  knocking  round  a  lot 
had  taught  me  to  maintain  an  open  mind  in 
front  of  a  traveller's  yarn.  For  the  thing  one 
thinks  to  be  impossible  often  turns  out  to  be 
true.  So  I  gazed  in  hopes  of  seeing  the  sun 
perform.  But,  alas  !  he  came  up  in  his  usual 
calm,  easy,  time  honoured  manner. 

After  breakfast  Fernando  looked  at  my 
"ammunitions"  and  derided  that  they  were  no 
good — "  malo  "— for  the   long  climb  before  us 


So  I  made  an  exchange  with  Toma.     \\r  nut 
on   the  "ammunitions"  and  I  pui  on  1 
shoes.      He  had   no  climbing  to  do.      1 

was  to  take  the  mules  back  to  the  \^^ 

las  Zezuas  and  wait  for  us  till  we  got  back  th'  :■ 
that  night.  I  signed  to  Fernando  if  it  were  not 
possible  to  take  Repertore  along  with  us,  for  I 
had  visions  of  hanging  on  to  his  tail  in  trying 
moment.s.  But  Fernando  made  me  understand 
that  it  was  not  possible,  and  the  steep,  sin  .  r 
look  of  the  ascents  and  descents  before  us  burt- 
him  out.  In  the  distance  Muley  Hassan  seemed 
to  go  straight  up  ;  it  didn't  seem  possible  to 
climb  it. 

But  I  was  feeling  better  now,  and  was  "game  " 
for  anything  another  man  was  "game"  for. 
And  so  we  started,  after  bidding  adios  to  the 
manzanilleros  —  Fernando,  myself,  and  Tula,  the 
pointer.  We  had  what  turned  out  to  be  fourteen 
hours'  work  before  us,  but  I  was  feeling  as  right 
as  a  nail  ;  I  suppose  the  work  of  the  day  before 
had  "  salted  "  me. 

We  climbed  and  descended  three  mountains 
before  we  came  to  the  foot  of  Muley  Hassan. 
and  after  taking  a  breathing  spell  we  began  to 
work  right  up  its  face.  I  kept  well  in  the  steps 
of  Fernando,  and  it  turned  out  to  be  not  such  a 
hard  mountain  after  all.  Often  this  is  the  way 
with  mountains  that  look  sheer  and  straight 
from  a  distance. 

Just  at  twelve  o'clock  we  reached  the  sunmiit 
— six  hours  after  starting  from  the  Picacho  de 
Veleta.  We  would  have  a  stiff  journey  back  to 
the  Laguna  de  las  Zezuas— but  what  did  that 
matter  ?  We  were  on  the  top  of  the  highest 
peak  of  the  Sierra  Nevada  I  There  were  the 
ruins  of  some  huts  that  had  been  built  years 
before.  Men  of  science  had  come  here  to  take 
observations,  had  built  these  huts,  and  had 
gone. 

I  walked  to  the  edge  of  an  immense.  «'\cr 
hanging  rock,  and  looked  out  and  liownwards. 
The  view  was  now  clear.  The  mist  had  rolled 
away.  Far,  far  below  stretcheil  out  the 
bare,  desolate  roll  of  the  Sierra  Nevada.  ^  '■■  -  - 
my  left  and  down  through  an  inmiense  distance 
I  I'ould  see  the  shining  of  great  waters. 


(J (J  OC  0)iltl>li/('d.) 


Vol.  X.-43. 


rOKY  ®F 
LWRYftEAR 


\^    BURIS5. 
oj-  /Ne-wRy. 


An  Irish  journalist  tells  the  story  of  an  elaborate  hoax  innocently  set  on  foot  by  newspaper  correspondents. 

The  reign  of  terror  that  ensued,  the  exciting  incidents  reported  from  different  villages,  and  the  final  dilemma 

of  the  correspondents  are  all  described  by  one  who  saw  the  whole  remarkable  affair  "  from  the  inside." 


EWRY,  an  important  Irish  seaport 
town,  was  sorely  troubled  in  the 
early  months  of  the  year  1895. 
First  came  a  severe  epidemic,  and 
after  that — the  bear ;  and  the  first 
terror  was  entirely  eclipsed  by  the  awfulness  of 
the  second.  Now,  the  merchants  of  Newry 
drive  an  extensive  trade  with  the  retailers 
of  Mid- Ulster  generally.  That  trade  was 
almost  entirely  paralyzed  during  the  prevalence 
i)f  the  epidemic  -such  was  the  dread  everywhere 
of  "catching  something" — and  our  travellers 
came  home  in  the  evenings  with  but  a  sorry  tale 
of  business  done.  When  the  bear  came  along 
all  that  was  changed  !  No  man  was  a  more 
welcome  caller  than  he  who  could  tell  at  first 
hand  the  latest  news  from  the  very  centre  of 
the  bear's  sphere  of  influence ;  and  many  a 
good  order  was  "booked"  while  a  traveller, 
with  the  volubility  of  his  tribe,  recounted  the 
tales  of  hairbr(;adth  escapes  to  which  Bruin's 
advent  in  our  district  had  given  rise.  Our 
business  rivals  in  Dundalk,  .Armagh,  and  other 
towns,  it  is  true,  were  unkind  enough  to  assert 
that  our  l)ear  was  of  sucli  stuff  as  dreams  are 
made  of— a  pure  invention  ;  but  wc-  could  afford 
to  treat  the  base  insinuation  with  the  contempt 
it  de.served. 

With  the  advent  of  its  ursine  wonder,  Newry 
entered  upon  a  commercial  renaissance  the  end 
of  which  is  not  yet.     Recently  the  Chairman  of 


a  Committee  of  the  House  of  Commons  con- 
grjitulated  the  merchants  of  Newry  on  their 
business  capacity  and  enterprise.  Candour 
recjuires  the  admission  that  it  was  the  impetus 
given  the  trade  of  the  port  by  the  frolics  of 
our  hear  that  suggested  to  the  merchants  the 
commercial  potentialities  of  their  town,  one 
endeavour  to  develop  which  evoked  the  en- 
comium just  quoted.  Yet  the  poor  bear  has 
not  had  so  much  as  a  vote  of  thanks  passed  to 
him  !  In  a  sunnier  and  less  distressful  country 
he  would  have  been  elevated  to  the  chief  totem- 
shi[)  of  the  tribe.  Let  it  be  my  privilege  to 
write  his  biography. 

Early  on  the  morning  of  February  i6th,  1895, 
two  farmers  nK:t  at  Coraghvvood  railway  station, 
tile  junction  where  travellers  to  or  from  Newry 
change  frcjin  the  main  line.  Said  the  first  of 
these  worthies  :  "  The  bear's  out  to-day." 

Said  the  second  :  "  Is  that  so  ?  Man,  it's 
fortunate  we're  not  at  home  " 

"  What  bear  are  they  talking  about,  porter?" 
inquired  a  nervous  old  lady,  who  had  over- 
heard. 

"  A  tame   bear,  ma'am,   that    Mr.  W ,   of 

M ,    let    out.      He    has    done    a    terrible 

damage,  I  hear,"  said  the  facetious  railway 
servant. 

"  Oh,  dear,"  exclaimed  the  now  affrighted 
old  lady,  and  she  retired  into  the  security  of  her 


Ill-:  STOkv  OK    riii: 


NKWkV    nKAK." 


339 


carriat^e,  taking  the  precaution  of  pulling  up 
the  window.  I'resuniably  the  lady  lost  no 
time  in  telling  her  story  when  she  arrived  at 
Newrv.  At  any  rate,  the  newspaper  men  got 
hold  of  it,  and  that  evening  a  paragraph  on  the 
subject  appeared  in  the  Be/fast  Evening^  Tele- 
graph from  its  Newry  correspondent. 

That  was  the  genesis  of  the  Newry  bear. 
The  evolutionary  development  of  the  (shall  I 
say  ?)  idea  affords  a  most  interesting  study,  and 
I  hope  to  take  my  readers  along  with  me  in  the 
amusing  and  instructive  story  of  its  expansion. 

The  Evening  TekgrapKs  announcement  con 
sisted  of  a  simple  statement  to  the  effect  that  a 
bear  had  made  its  escape  from  captivity.  The 
local  newspapers  were  able  on  the  earliest 
opportunity  to  add  something  to  that  meagre 
intelligence.  Take  the  following,  from  the 
Newry  Reporter  of  February  19th,  as  an 
example  : — 

"A  Be.\r  on  thk  Prowl. — A  bear  which  a 
gentleman  in  Markethill  kept  as  a  pet  lately 
decided  upon  ending  its  confinement  to  im- 
prove its  knowledge  of  the  manners  and  customs 
of  the  country  to  which  an  unkind  fate  had 
brought  it.  Its  roving  days  and  roving  ways, 
however,  are  likely  soon  to  come  to  an  abrupt 
termination,  for  a  reward  of  ^5  is  offered  for 
his  capture  alive  or  dead.  Several  domestic 
animals  have  been  killed  by  the  brute,  the  latest 
victim  being  a  goat  at  MuUaglass  last  Saturday 
afternoon.  .  .   . 

"Since  what  precedes  was  written  we  hear 
that  Bruin  has  been 
captured  near  MuUa- 
glass and  is  now  a 
prisoner  in  a  barn, 
which,  it  is  only  fair 
to  his  bearship  to 
say,  he  holds  against 
all  comers." 

The  next  phase  of 
the  story  is  unfolded 
in  a  paragra[)h  which 
appeared  on  the 
2 1  St.  I  again  ([uote 
from  the  Newry  Re- 
porter : — 

"The  escaped 
bear,  which,  as  we 
reported  in  Tues- 
day's issue,  was 
captured  and  im- 
prisoned in  a  barn, 
regained  his  liberty 
while  his  captors 
were  holding  a 
council  of  war  as  to 
how  best    to   secure  "cmh.dkb.v  wekk 


him.  The  brute  was  seen  yesterday  at  .Magher- 
nahely,  and  he  is  credited  with  having  killed 
as  many  pigs  and  goals  as  would  provision  an 
army  for  a  week.  IJut  of  course  these  slate 
mcnts  must  be  taken  cum  i^rano  sa/is." 

Folks  now  began  to  be  alarmed,  and  every 
one  began  talking  of  the  bear.  Naturally  the 
Newry  correspondents  of  the  Belfast  and  Dublin 
newspapers  commenced  to  turn  the  distinguished 
visitor  to  account  at  a  penny  or  so  a  line.  All 
but  one  ;  that,  however,  is  another  story. 

Their  attention  to  the  matter  did  not  lend  to 
allay  the  general  fright.  Every  man  became 
afraid  now  that  he  thought  his  neighbour  was 
afraid  also.  In  a  day  or  two  the  correspondents 
were  able  to  record  that  the  bear  had  been 
"  marked  down "  in  a  pretty  little  wood  at 
r.oragh,  about  three  and  a  half  miles  from 
Newry.  By  the  way,  throughout  the  whole  of 
his  protracted  wanderings  the  bear  invariably 
selected  his  lair  amongst  the  most  attractive 
scenic  surroundings. 

The  name  of  the  person  who  had  seen  "  the 
monster "  was  not  given  in  the  reports ;  the 
mere  announcement,  however,  that  he  had  been 
actually  seen  in  the  neighbourhood  was  sufficient 
to  usher  in  a  condition  of  panic  in  the  immediate 
vicinity  of  his  head-cjuarters.  Children  were 
escorted  to  and  from  school  by  their  elders,  or 
else  kept  within  doors  all  day.  Country  folk 
who  had  marketing  to  do  made  it  a  point  to  be 
home  before  daylight  had  given  place  to  night. 
Doors,  formerly  left  "  on  the  latch,"  were  now 


ICSCUKTKU  TO  AND  MIOM   «:ilCK'l.   HV  TMKI«  KLOKM. 


346 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


double-locked.  Farmer  after  farmer  came  into 
town  and  reported  the  destruction  of  sheep  and 
lambs,  and  even  calves.  One  respectable 
farmer,  whose  word  I  have  no  reason  to  doubt, 
informed  me  that  he  had  lost  seven  sheep  in 
one  night ;  and  here  is  a  list  with  which  my 
Poyntzpass  correspondent  supplied  me  : — 

"On  the  night  of  the  20th  or  early  on  the 
morning  of  the  21st,  Mr.  Edward  Lock- 
hart,  Kilmonaghan,  had  two  sheep 
killed  and  one  badly  wounded.  The 
following  night  Mr.  W.  Henry,  of 
Jerrettspass,  lost  a  valuable  retriever 
dog.  On  the  same  night  Mr.  John 
Lockhart,  Jerrettspass,  lost  a  very 
valuable  setter.  On  the  23rd  the  bear 
worried  a  calf  belonging  to  Mr.  James 
Treanor,  of  Carrickrovaddy." 

Altogether  the  local  newspapers  were 
informed  of  the  destruction  of  perhaps 
forty  siieep,  and  the  bear  was  alleged 
to  be  the  executioner  in  each  case. 
Things  got  to  such  a  i)itch  that  at 
last  the  aid  of  the  police  was  invoked, 
and  two  constables  with  bayonets, 
rifles,  ball  cartridges,  and  a  bull-terrier, 
were  sent  in  pursuit  of  the  predatory 
brute.  This  numlier  was  then  in 
creased  to  four,  and  ultimately  eight 
men  were  scouring  the  country  in 
the  search.  On  the  police  invasion 
of  his  retreat  at  Goragh  the  bear 
promptly  made  Camlough    Mountain, 


four  miles  away  in 
a  southerly  direc- 
tion, his  base  of 
operations. 

Meantime  the 
Dublin  and  Belfast 
dailies  were  greedily 
taking  "Newrybear" 
matter  in  columns, 
and  the  Press  Asso- 
ciation and  Central 
News  were  liberally 
providing  for  the 
wants  of  the  other 
papers  throughout 
the  United  King- 
dom. The  "  Newry 
bear  "  was  the  staple 
subject  of  conversa- 
tion from  Fair  Head 
to  the  Cove  of  Cork. 
Fortunately  for  the 
local  correspondents 
theirs  was  a  harvest 
easily  gathered. 
Every  countryman 
they  met  was  able  to  supply  some  item  of 
interest.  Indeed,  the  only  difficulty  of  the 
scribes  was  the  avoidance  of  tautology,  and 
there  were  some  nice  results  from  their  attempts. 
"Bruin"  and  "Caleb"  were  played  upon  with 
monotonous  regularity,  which  was  bad  enough  ; 
one  could  even  tolerate  "the  ravenous  beast" 
as  another  version   of  the  same ;    but  when  it 


ULTIMATELY   EIGHT    MKN    WERE    SCOURING    THE 
COUNTRV    IN    THE   SEARCH." 


'lull    LAKE,    ALl  ■     :  ,       I      ,  I',         I  ,   !         Ill 

Front  a  Photo,  by  Chas.  C  Ha^an,  Newry. 


IIAV1-.    SWLM. 


Tin:   sioKv   ()|.    I  hi:   -'nkwkv    m:Ak  • 


VII 


came  to  employing  "L;ri//ly"  and  "Polar"  as 
synotiymous  terms,  while  the  colour  of  the 
brute  in  one  article  was  given  as  hniuii,  m 
another  as  black,  and  in  a  third  as  grcv,  and 
when  the  sex  was  changed  in  every  other  con- 
tribution, it  was  loo  much.      Hut  let  that  pass. 

In  his  new  quarters  at  Camlough  Mountam 
the  bear  was  able  to  inspire  terror  throughout 
the  populous  district  in  aiul  around  the  village 
of   Bessbrook,  and    one   organized   pursuit    by 


ho(jd  rccLived  an  awlul  Iright  and  an  '  ,nl 

surprise.  His  laniily  and  hunself  we...  -.umg 
huddled  round  the  kitchen  fire  one  night,  fear- 
fully discussing  the  visitation,  when  a  cry  from 
one  of  the  children,  "The  bear!  The  bear!" 
chilled  every  heart  and  directed  every  gu/c  to 
the  window,  pressed  against  which  could  be 
seen  the  muzzle  of  some  animal.  Hastily 
snatching  his  loaded  fowling-piece  from  the 
wall  the  farmer  aimed  the  gun  at  the  animal  and 


\ 


r^^ 


wo 


THE    FARMER    AIMED   THE   GUN    AT   1HE   AMMAI.    AND   KIKEU 


countrymen  armed  with  graips  and  pitchforks 
was  reported  to  me  as  having  taken  place  while 
he  was  located  there.  It  was  at  night,  and  the 
brute  managed  to  make  his  escape  by  swinmiing 
across  a  lake  a  little  over  half  a  mile  in  width. 
Thus  rudely  disturbed  from  his  second  place  of 
hiding,  his  bearship  retraced  his  steps,  left  his 
first  haunt  at  Goragh  behind  him,  and  took  up 
residence  for  a  short  time  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  Loughbrickland.  Here  he  was  alleged  to 
have  made  his  escape  from  a  hunting-party 
across  the  ice  with  which  the  lough  was  then 
covered.  This  again  was  at  night.  The  course 
of  the  brute  from  one  place  of  concealment  to 
another  was  strewn  with  the  carcasses  of  sheep 
wantonly  destroyed,  and  the  terror  he  had 
established  in  the  district  was  gaining  in 
intensity  day  by  day.  Men  who  had  firearms 
now  slept  with  them  loaded  at  night  by  their 
bedsides,  and  many  were  the  false  alarms  of  his 
coming.  While  he  was  still  reported  as  at 
Camlough  Mountain  a  farmer  in  that  neighbour- 


fired.  Evidence  was  not  wanting  that  the  shot 
had  taken  effect.  However,  the  marksman, 
thinking,  probably,  that  the  bear  might  feign 
death  in  order  to  tempt  him  outside,  prudently 
decided  to  wait  till  morning  before  investigating 
matters  further.  When  morning  came  an  in- 
spection from  an  upper  window  revealed  the 
dead  body  of  a  neighbour's  donkey  lying  in  the 


un- 


frcim 


iC 


yard  !      It  had  strayed    from   its   s; 
luckily  for  itself,  was  attr.utt  d   bv  : 
the  cottage  window. 

Notwithstanding  the  freijuei)< 
had  been  cha.sed.  the  bear  been...  .  .....;. 

town  of  Newry  itself  was   invaded  I     A  n 
able  magistrate  one  day  reported  at  the  ; 

office  that  the   furred   terror  h.   '   ' 

a    fieUl    at    the    rear  of   the  ii. 

Two  policemen  set  out  immediately  in  pursuit. 

No    bear,    nor    trace    o*' 

One  Friday  night  a  pluii;:    ^ 

fever  hospital,  where  he  had  been  making  an 
urgent  refxiir,  .saw  a  strange  form  approach  him 


34^ 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


frozen,      «nd 
mile,       and 
morain^   Mr, 
was   retorning 


in  the  darkness,  just  on  the  confines  of  the 
town.  \Vithout  a  seconds  hesitation  the 
gallant  plumber  leaped  a  ditch  into  a  field  and 
made  for  home  as  fast  as  his  legs  could  carry 
him.  The  bear  did  not  follow,  but  it  groaned. 
The  plumber  accorded 
a  couple  of  pressmen  an 
interview  on  the  follow- 
ing morning,  and  his 
description  of  his  thrill- 
ing experience  was  duly 
set  out  at  full  length  in 
the  Monday's  papers. 
It  has  been  suggested 
that  what  the  plumber 
really  saw  was  a  burly 
farmer,  in  a  somewhat 
"elevated"  condition, 
making  the  best  of  his 
way  home  on  his  hands 
and  knees  !  A  straying 
cow  was  found  near  the 
place  in  the  morning,  but 
was  not  somehow  con- 
nected with  the  incident. 

A  night  or  two  after- 
wards a  barber,  who  had 
been  enjoying  a  little 
holiday,  conjured  up  a 
fearful  form  in  one  of 
the  back  streets,  in 
which  he  had  his  place 
of  business.  Hurrying 
into  the  shop  he  bound 
an  open  razor  to  the  end 
of  the  coloured  pole  by 
which  he  advertised  his 
art  and  set  out  in  chase. 
For  over  a  mile  he  fol- 
lowed the  monster, 
and  then  lost  it  in  the 
neiglibourhood  of  the 
quarries  from  which  is 
obtained  the  famous 
Newry  granite.  And  so 
the  excitement  grew. 

All  along,  however, 
there  had  been  some  few  people  in  the  district 
who  flatly  refused  to  Ijelieve  in  the  existence  of 
the  bear,  and  I  think  I  am  safe  in  saying  the 
police  were  early  converts  to  this  scepticism. 
The  then  district-inspector  of  police  (Mr.  Dwyer) 
one  day  received  a  telegram  from  the  colonel 
of  the  Hussars  stationed  at  Newbridge,  stating 
that  some  of  the  officers  purposed  coming  down 
to  Newry  to  hunt  the  bear,  and  asking  him 
(Mr.  Dwyer)  to  make  arrangements  for  the 
stabling  of  twenty  horses.  Mr.  Dwyer  was  con- 
vinced  by  this  time  that  the  bear  existed  only 


THE  BEAR  STILL  AT  LABGE  NEAR  NEWRY, 


TTofortanately  the  latest  intelligenoa  that  can 
be  imparted  regarding  the  bear  prowling  abont 
Newry  13  that  ha  is  still  uncaptnred,  and  tho  in- 
habitants of  the  district  are  afraid  to  Teature  oat- 
fllde  their  bomea  aher  da&k  On  the  22Qd  Insi.  he 
was  observed  in  the  vicinity  of  Camloai^h,  County 
Armagh,  and  was  pursuedby  several  of  the  residents 
of  the  district.  Uis  footprint!  were  traced  to  the 
lake,  in  close  proximity  to  whioh  brain  was  shel- 
tered from  obaervatioo  A  shot  was  fired  by  one 
of  the  pursners,  and  scarcely  bad  the  report  died 
away  when  "frizzle"  darted  from  hia 
hiding-piece,  orosseil  the  lake,  almost  entirely 
a  distance  of  about  half  a 
escaped,       On       the       following 

of   Sandys    Street,  Newry, 

home    from   the   Fever   Iloapital, 


where  h»  had  be«n  doin?  bodi«  repairs,  when  the 
bear  sndden'y  sprang  from  the  aide  of  the  road 
and  made  at  him.  Fortanately  he  evaded  the 
animal,  and  ran  away  with  all  the  speed  he  could 

exert.     Tho   bmte   poraned   him,  and  Mr.  . . 

only  oonsidrred  himself  secureW  oatof  harm's  reaob 
when  ht  sftfely  trained  a  field,  having  scaled  a  waTl 
six  or  seven  feet  high.  He  lost  no  timv  in  oom- 
QQnloatiag  with  the  police  aatborities,  and  eearcb 
partie*  were  constituted  and  proceeded  in  parsuit 
of  brnin.  Tbeee  inrluded— Sergeant  Durnao, 
Serireaut  Kiloourss  (>fewry).  Sergeant  Keane 
(Oamlou!;h),  Cooitablet  Campbell,  M'Connell, 
Oilmore.  Fitzpatriok,  Railly,  Sheridan,  M'Oaaker. 
and  Mr.  Richard  Doherty.  Thay  made  a  minute 
seRfCh  of  the  Kiivnlanils  of  Tullyhappy,  Clondoff, 
Searse,  Knookdoff,  Crobane.  and  Shinn,  but  at  no 
time  did  they  come  in  si^bt  of  the  troublesome 
animal.  The  country  is  being  scoured  by  the 
police  a^d  olvillane,  but  so  far  brain  has 
not  been  captured.  Reports  from  the  country  to 
the  authorities  sbow  that  the  damage  done  by  the 
bear  has  been  very  oonilderable.  In  one  instance 
a  flock  of  eheep  was  attacked  by  the  beast,  one 
being  killed  and  many  of  the  others  injured.  Of 
the  sheep  that  was  killed  nothing  was  left  but  its 
fleece.  Mr.  David  Martin,  J. P.,  reported  to  the 
Hyde  Market  Barraok  on  the  23rd  inst.  that  the 
bear  had  been  observed  in  fields  at  the  back  of  his 
house,  off  the  Dowoshlre  Road.  Head-Constable 
Williams  at  once  sent  Constables  Fhillfps  and 
Sheridan  to  the  place,  and  after  a  minute  search 
throo((b  all  the  Qelds  in  the  surrounding  districts 
they  were  unable  to  discover  the  object  of  their 
eearcb. 


in  the  imagination  of  the  country  people,  and 
he  wired  the  Hussars  to  that  effect,  and  the 
bear-hunt  did  not  come  off.  News  of  this 
action,  of  course,  got  abroad,  and  the  reign  of 
terror   subsided   almost   as   quickly   as   it    had 

arisen.  If  there  was  no 
bear,  why  should  the 
people  be  afraid  ?  Only 
the  newspaper  corre- 
spondents were  afraid — 
afraid  of  their  own 
Frankenstein  !  It  is  true 
that  they  reported  only 
what  they  had  heard 
and  what  most  people 
believed;  but  would 
that  satisfy  the  editors 
of  the  newspapers  for 
which  they  wrote  if  they 
got  it  into  their  heads 
that  they  had  been 
hoaxed  ?  At  a  solemn 
meeting  of  the  local 
correspondents  the 
doyefi  of  the  corps  sug- 
gested, and  it  was  unani- 
mously carried,  that  the 
bear  be  sent  from  the 
district  at  once.  Accord- 
ingly a  judicious  para- 
graph was  contributed 
to  the  next  day's  papers, 
in  which  it  was  stated 
that  the  bear  had  evi- 
dently left  the  Newry 
district,  and  was  believed 
to   have  gone   in  the 


WHAT     THE      NEWSrAPKKS 
NliWSl'AI'ER    I'ARAGKAl'H 


SAID — KACSIMII.K     OK      A 
CONCEKNING   THE    BEAK. 


direction  of  Ballyroney 
The  Ballyroney  corre- 
spondent was  equal  to 
the  emergency.  The 
following  day  there 
appeared  a  paragraph 
from  his  pen  announcing 
the  arrival  of  the  bear  at 
that  place.  However,  the 
public  interest  in  the  sub- 
ject had  evaporated,  and  the  Ballyroney  man 
rapidly  "dried  up."  Perha[is — who  knows? — 
the  wearied  l)ear  may  have  laid  himself  down 
and  died  in  that  peaceful  neighbourhood. 

As  late  as  the  i8th  of  March  an  I^nniskillen 
correspondent  revived  the  l)rute,  but  with  little 
better  success  than  the  Ballyroney  man.  I 
think,  indeed,  the  following  was  his  first  and 
last  paragra[)h  on  the  subject:  "The  famous 
Newry  bear,  it  appears,  has  migrated  to  C'ounty 
I'Y-rmanagh.  Last  week  a  farmer  living  at 
Brookborough    was   surprised    to    see    a    large 


THE    STORY    OF    THH    "NEWRV    IJKAR." 


343 


brown  animal  killing  his  sheep,  and,  running 
into  the  house,  he  procured  a  shot-gun  and 
fired  two  shots,  but  with  no  effect.  1-atcr  in 
the  evening  Mr.  Wilson,  lanhouse  Water, 
Lisbellaw,  saw  the  animal  in  a  field  and  pursued 
It  with  a  large  sheep  dog.  It  got  off,  however, 
and  again  made  its  appearance  in  Killynure 
Bog,  near  Enniskillen.  The  i)eople  saw  it 
plodding  through  the  bog  in  the  dusk  of  the 
evening,  but,  not  knowing  what  it  was,  did  not 
meddle  with  it.  It  is  at  present  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Ballinamallard.  It  is  quite  possible 
that  a  hunt  may  be  organized  to  capture  it." 

I  have  said  that  the  Dublin  and  Belfast  news- 
pa[)ers  eagerly  accepted  all  "  Newry  bear"  copy. 
There  was  an  exception  amongst  the  Dublin 
papers — the  Irish  Daily  Independent.  I  was  the 
N'ewry  correspondent  for  that  journal,  and,  dis- 
believing the  story  from  the  first,  I  contributed 
nothing  on  the  subject  to  its  columns.  I  wonder 
if  the  omission  was  appreciated  ?  The  bear  was 
dispatched  to  Ballyroney  about  the  14th  of 
March.  Judge  of  my  chagrin  when  I  read  the 
following,  a  fortnight  after,  in  the  very  paper 
whose  columns  I  had  endeavoured  to  keep  pure 
and  undefiled  : — 

"  A  Ballintober  telegram  says  :  On  Thursday 
great  excitement  was  occasioned  at  Ballintober 
by  the  announcement  that  the  escaped  Newry 
bear  had  been  captured  at  Carane,  about  two 
miles  from  here.  It  appears  that  about  6.30 
on  Thursdav  morning  Thomas  Snouge,  the  herd 
on  the  lands  of  Carane,  was  out  on  the  farm 
when  he  espied  a  strange-looking  animal.  He 
at  once  gave  the  alarm,  and  in  a  short  time 
about  ten  men  turned  out  and  went  in  pursuit. 
After  an  exciting  chase  of  an  hour's  duration 
they  succeeded  in  capturing  the  brute.  He  is  of 
a  brown  colour,  and  seems  to  be  incapacitated 
from  the  treatment  he  received.  There  were 
many  sheep  and  lambs  missed  from  the  sur- 
rounding farms  previous  to  his  capture.  The 
peo|)le  of  the  locality  generally  believe  he 
must  be  the  Newry  bear.  Captain  McTernan, 
R.M.,  has  ordered  the  police  to  visit  the  scene. 
The  brute  is  at  present  chained  up  in  an  out 
house  on  the  land."' 


Was  there  a  bear  after  all,  and  had  I  sacri- 
ficed the  opportunity  of  earning  considerable 
"  lineage "  ?  Was  this  the  reward  of  my 
(fancied)  virtue  ?  With  what  relief  I  read 
in  the  Independent  of  the  2nd  A[>ril  this 
further  despatch  from  the  Ballintober  corre- 
spondent:— 

"Ballintober,  Monday. — Yesterday  hundreds 
of  sightseers  visited  Carane,  about  two  miles 
from  here,  to  have  a  look  at  the  bear  which  was 
captured  there  on  last  Wednesday  by  Thomas 
Leach,  the  herd  (the  discrepancies  in  dates  and 
names  are  the  correspondent's,  not  mine)  on 
the  lands,  as  already  published  in  the  daily 
papers.  He  is  carefully  chained  up,  and  any- 
thing in  the  shape  of  carrion  thrown  to  him  he 
is  ready  to  devour.  Of  course,  no  person  can 
conjecture  how  he  came  to  this  part  of  the 
country,  but  I  am  of  opinion  he  is  not  the 
missing  Newry  bear,  as  at  first  surmised.  I  will 
give  a  short  description  of  him,  which  will  help 
to  satisfy  the  curious.  He  is  about  2ft.  2in.  in 
height ;  when  he  rests  on  his  hoofs  he  is  about 
3ft.  6in.  in  height.  He  is  in  colour  dark  brown, 
with  four  black  legs.  There  is  a  while  stri|  e  on 
each  jaw,  and  a  blue  mark  on  the  forehead. 
His  coat  is  like  sealskin.  He  is  cerLiinly  a 
great  curiosity.  His  custodian,  Thomas  I. each, 
who  is  caring  for  him  well,  is  open  to  receive 
any  reasonable  offer  for  him." 

How  the  mighty  had  fallen  1  This  was  a 
badger  the  Ballintober  man  had  seen.  It  was 
a  "  Polar  "  or  a  "  grizzly  "  that  the  Newry  corre- 
spondents had  written  of.     I  was  vindicated  ! 

It  only  remains  for  me  to  e.xplain  the  conver- 
sation at  Goraghwood  station  reported  early  in 
this  article.  "  The  bear "  to  whom  the  two 
countrymen  alluded  was  a  writ-server  (so  called 
on  account  of  the  urbanity  of  his  manner), 
and  their  good  fortune  consisted  in  not  being 
at  home  on  the  occasion  of  his  visit.  The 
I\Ir.  \V ,  of  M ,  whose  name  the  rail- 
way porter  introduced,  was  a  land  agent 
(since  deceased)  for  whom  "the  bear"  (also 
deceased,  I  think)  was  acting.  And  this  is  the 
true  history  of  the  birth  and  death  of  the 
Newry  bear  1 


i^^  f^/^ffoi^i^ap. 


II. 


The  famous  African  hunter  here  relates  his  experiences  in  a  new  field — the  little-known  interior  of 

Newfoundland — whither  he  journeyed  to  shoot  caribou  deer.     Mr.  Selous  met  with  splendid  sport ; 

and  he  illustrates  his  narrative  with  some  very  striking  photographs. 


N  the  afternoon  of  November  5th 
we  decided  to  turn  back,  as  we 
then  had  nothing  left  in  the  way  of 
provisions  but  a  few  biscuit  crumbs 
and  a  little  tea,  and  the  caribou 
seemed  to  have  gone  right  on  westwards.  We 
had  determined  to  camp  that  night  at  the 
western  end  of  St.  John's  Lake,  which, 
however,  we  did  not  reach  until  late  at  night, 
after  a  most  tiring  scramble  by  moonlight  for 
the  last  few  miles  along  the  bank  of  the  river, 
which  was  often  densely  wooded  to  its  very 
edge. 

It  was  just  commencing  to  rain  when  at  last 
we  reached  the  lake,  but  we  managed  to  put  up 
a  lean-to,  over  which  we  stretched  our  flimsy 
bit  of  sail-cloth.  .Soon,  however,  the  flood-gates 
of  Heaven  seemed  to  have  been  opened,  as  the 
rain,  which  had  at  first  been  light,  became  a 
steady  downpour,  and  never  stopped  for  one 
instant  till  two  o'clock  the  following  afternoon. 
I  have  experienced  much  heavier  rain  in 
tropical  countries  in  the  shape  of  storms 
which  did  not  last  long,  but  only  once 
before  have  I  known,  a  steady  downpour 
to  be  so  long  -  continued.  We  made  no 
attem[)t  to  sleep,  as  the  rain  beat  into  the 
front  of  our  shelter,  and  the  old  canvas  tar- 
paulin leaked  so  much  that  it  was  impossible 
to  lie  down  with(jut  exposing  oneself  to  the 
drippings  from  many  places.  Fortunately  all 
round  our  camp  there  was  an  inexhaustible 
supply  of  fuel    in   the   shape   both  r)f  standing 


and  fallen  trees,  and  by  constantly  piling  great 
logs  a  foot  in  diameter  on  the  fire  we  kept  it 
going.  We  still  had  a  little  tea  and  a  few 
crumbs  of  broken  biscuit  left,  and  so  were  not 
so  badly  off  after  all. 

On  tlie  following  day  we  were  unable  to  move 
and  had  scarcely  anything  to  eat — nothing,  in 
fact,  but  a  small  ration  of  biscuit — as  we 
thought  it  advisable  to  keep  a  little  in  reserve. 
As  long  as  the  rain  lasted  we  occupied  our  time 
in  chopping  down  dead  trees  and  keeping  the 
fire  going  ;  but  as  soon  as  the  weather  cleared, 
as  it  did  early  in  the  afternoon,  we  set  to  work 
to  dry  our  things,  and  by  nightfall  had  every- 
thing comfortable  once  more.  The  clouds  had 
by  tliis  time  completely  disappeared  in  the  most 
extraordinary  manner,  and  the  moon  —  now 
nearly  at  the  full — was  shining  softly  over  forest, 
lake,  and  river.  During  the  night  there  was  a 
hard  frost,  and  the  next  day — November  7th  — 
was  beautifully  bright  and  fine,  ^^'e  made  an 
early  start,  and  getting  on  to  the  higli  ground  as 
soon  as  possible — since  all  the  low  lands  near 
the  lake  were  deeply  flooded — walked  steadily 
all  day.  ^\'hen  the  sun  went  down  we  were  not 
more  than  ten  miles  distant  from  our  camp,  so 
we  pushed  on  by  moonlight  and  got  in  soon 
after  ten  o'clock.  We  had  certainly  walked  a 
good  many  hours,  but  could  not  have  covered 
any  great  distance,  as  our  pace  across  the  bogs 
had  necessarily  been  slow. 

We  made  two  halls  during  the  day,  one  in 
the  morning   to  feed  on   some  delicious  berries 


AFlKk     WOODLAN'I)    (Akllioi;     IN     NICWI'OUNDLAND. 


545 


which  we  found  gruwmy  in  prolusion  on  ;i  mossy 
"barren,"  and  the  second  in  the  afternoon  to  roast 
and  eat  three  willow  grouse  which  I  had  shot 
with  my  rille.  The  above-mentioned  berries  are 
known  in  Newfoundland  as  partridge  berries — 
partridge  being  the  local  term  for  willow  grouse. 
I  thoui^ht  them  most  delicious,  and  made  a 
good  meal  off  ihem.  The  willow  grouse  allowed 
me  to  walk  up  to  within  ten  yards  of  them  as 
they  sat  on  the  ground,  and  1  shot  them  one 
after  the   other,   through   the  head.     This  may 


the  whole  island  e.vccpi    ,; .j.  .  .,■ 

swept   "barrens."     On   these  bleak   w  ,e 

caribou  congregate,  to  feed  on  the  white  nio&s 
with  which  the  ground  is  covered.     In  v  -    '     il 
winters  they  are  said  to  live  entirely  on  ■  r 

kind  of  moss,  which  grows  plentifully  on  the 
spruce  firs.     As  the  chances  of  su'  d 

so  small,  and  my  absence  from  home  ....;.  .......dy 

been  somewhat  more  prolonged  than  I  had 
anticipated,  I  decided  to  rest  satisfied  with  the 
experience  I  had  gained  on  this,  my  first  essay 


possibly  be  considered  an  unsportsmanlike 
action,  but,  after  all,  these  birds  were  not  shot 
for  sporl  but  for  use,  as  my  companions  and  I 
were  really  hungry.  The  birds  which  I  shot 
were  almost  entirely  white,  and  in  a  very  short 
time  would  have  assumed  their  full  winter 
plumage.  In  the  summer  their  general  colour 
on  the  head,  neck,  and  upper  parts  is  reddish 
brown,  the  flight-feathers  alone  remaining  white. 

On  reaching  our  former  camping-place  we 
found  that  the  tents  had  been  shifted  to  a  higher 
piece  of  ground,  and  we  soon  learnt  from  the 
cook,  who  had  been  left  in  charge,  that  the 
river  had  risen  so  high  immediately  after  the 
great  rain  that  it  had  overflowed  its  banks  and 
converted  the  ground  on  which  our  tents  had 
been  pitched  into  a  lake.  Fortunately  our  cook 
was  equal  to  the  occasion,  and  very  sensibly 
transferred  all  our  belongings,  including  the 
tents,  to  the  boat. 

I  still  had  a  sufficient  supply  of  provisions  for 
another  week's  tri[),  but  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  il  was  scarcely  worth  while  undertaking  il, 
since  Stroud  gave  it  as  his  opinion  that,  with  the 
exception  of  a  few  stragglers,  all  the  caribou  had 
travelled  so  far  to  the  south-wesl  that  we  should 
not  be  able  to  come  up  with  them.  Helold  me 
that  at  this  time  of  year  they  were  accustomed  to 
resort  to  the  thick  foresls,  in  which  it  was  very 
ditVicult  to  find  them,  and  that  they  would  not 
frequent  the  open  country  again  until  mid- 
winter.    At  thai   lime  the  snow  lies  deep  over 

Vol.  X.-44. 


at  caribou  hunting,  and  to  endeavour  to  turn  it 
to  account  the  following  year.  I  had  taken  out 
a  license  which  entitled  me  to  shoot  five  caribou 
stags  and  two  does,  and  I  had  had  ample  opjjor- 
tunity  to  shoot  this  number  of  animals.  Hut  it 
was  not  quantity  but  quality  that  I  wanted,  and 
I  had  actually  only  fired  three  shots— all  very 
ea.sy  ones— and  killed  one  good  stag  for  his 
head  and  a  doe  and  a  young  stag  for  meat. 

On  November  9th  I  got  back  to  Terra  Nova 
Station,  and  taking  the  ne.xt  train  to  Port  au\- 
Basques  cro.ssed  at  once  to  the  mainland  and 
returned  to  England  v/<i  New  York. 

Before  quitting  my  late  -companions   I   made 
arrangements    for   another    hunt     in    the    early 
autumn    of    the    following    year.       Slroud    was 
unable    to    undertake    to    go    with    me,    as    he 
was    already     engaged     for    the    next     fishing 
season    and    the   early    hunting    in    Septem!  .  r 
Old      Saunders,      however,     a     (juiet,     tir 
hard-working  man,  always  willing  and 
and    to    whom    I     had    taken   a   gieal     ..rv-  .j,. 
agreed   to  accompany  me  and   to  fintl  another 
good  man.     Our  plan  was  to  get  to  St  John's 
]^\kc    by    canoe    in    Septem'  '    ' 

the    country    beyond    in    tl 
some  of   the   big  old  .m 
summer   in    that    part   of  i 
fared  on  this   second  <ii;'-' 
head  I  will  now  relate 

On  the  afternoon  of  Satui 
1901,    I    landed   at   St.  John-, 


the 

ilow    I 


.\  (."»  H.  UU  H.il.1  l*\J, 


546 


THE    \VI1)1':    WORLD    MA(;AZINK 


after  a  pleasant  and  uneventful  passage.  The 
following:;  day,  Sunday,  was  a  day  of  rest,  but 
during  jSIonday  1  took  out  my  hunting  license 
and  bought  all  necessary  stores  and  camp 
equipment  for  a  three  weeks'  excursion  after 
caribou.  I  then  telegraphed  to  Saunders — 
with  whom  I  had  been  in  touch  by  letter  since 
the  previous  autumn — to  meet  me  at  I'erra 
Nova  Station,  and  got  away  the  same  evening 
in  the  slow  or  "  acconmiodation  train."  In 
addition  to  the  provisions  and  cooking  gear, 
which  I  bouglit  locally,  I  carried  with  me 
a  light  waterproof  tarpaulin,  ten  feet  by 
fourteen  feet  and  weigliing  seventeen  pounds, 
a  sixteen-foot  Canadian  bassvvood  canoe,  and  an 
American  collapsible  canoe.     Both  these  canoes 


Day  was  just  breaking  on  the  morning  of 
September  loth  when — after  a  most  uncomfort- 
.able  night  in  that  wretched  "  go  as-you-please  " 
or  ''  acconniiodation  '"  train,  already  several  hours 
late  on  schedule  time — I  reached  Terra  Nova 
Station.  Old  Robert  Saunders  was  there  ready 
waiting  for  me,  and  after  a  hearty  handshake 
introduced  me  to  the  man  he  had  brought  with 
him  for  the  trip,  a  fine  young  Newfoundlander 
named  John  \Vells. 

\\'e  lost  no  time  in  setting  to  work  to  get 
everything  ready  for  our  journey,  and  within  an 
hour  we  had  both  canoes  floating  on  the  lake 
just  below  the  station,  with  all  our  baggage 
packed  aboard  them.  Saunders  and  I  took  the 
Canadian   canoe — a   most   beautiful  little  craft, 


Front  a\ 


A   SCENE  ON    THE   TERRA    NOVA    KIVER,    SHOWINC.   THE   CANAOrAN    CANOE. 


[/'/•OtO. 


did  me  yeoman's  service,  and  without  them  I 
could  not  possibly  have  reached  the  country  in 
which  I  wished  to  hunt.  As  for  the  tarpaulin, 
in  a  country  like  Newfoundland,  where  forests  of 
spruce  and  birch  everywhere  abound,  I  consider 
it  preferable  in  every  way  to  a  tent,  especially  in 
the  matter  of  weight  and  portability.  A  lean-to 
made  of  light  .saplings,  resting  on  a  cross-pole 
fixed  on  two  convenient  trees,  can  always  be 
put  up  in  a  few  minutes,  and  over  this  frame- 
work tile  tarpaulin  is  stretched.  A  fire— as  large 
or  as  small  as  you  like— is  lighted  in  front,  which 
keeps  the  interior  of  the  bivouac  warm  and  dry, 
green  spruce  boughs  arc  cut  to  lie  on,  and  there 
is  plenty  of  room,  not  only  for  several  men,  but 
also  for  stores  and  baggage  of  all  kinds  besides. 


very  strongly  but,  at  the  same  time,  lightly  built 
— whilst  Wells  paddled  the  American,  sitting 
amidships  and  using  the  long  double  paddle, 
like  an  Esquimaux  in  his  "  kayak." 

It  was  just  six  o'clock  when  we  said  good- 
bye to  the  station-master  and  jiaddled  away  up 
the  lake.  The  weather  was  bright  and  clear, 
and  thit  air  felt  fresh  and  exhilarating,  as  there 
had  been  a  light  frost  during  the  night.  My 
compnnions  were  delighted  with  the  canoes,  and 
full  of  hope  and  confidence  that  with  their  help 
we  should  be  able  to  reach  a  country  where 
little  or  no  hunting  had  been  done— at  any  rate, 
of  late  years — and  where,  if,  as  my  previous 
year's  experiences  had  given  me  every  reason 
to  believe,  a  certain    number  of   caribou  were 


AFTER     WOODI.AM)    (AklHOU     IN     NICWI-OrN'I  )I.ANI). 


accusloiiiL'ti    lu    live    the    wliolc    year    luuiid,   I 
niiglU  hope  to  meet  with  some  fiiie  old  stags. 

After  a  couple  of  hours'  paddling  we  halted 
for  breakfast,  ami  whilst  that  meal  was  being 
l)repared  I  put  a  light  tishing-rod  together  that 
I  had  brought  willi  nie,  and  caught  four  nice 
trout.  These  fish  must  have  averaged  nearly  a 
pound  ai)iece  in  weight,  and  two  i)f  them  were 


u|)side  down    lu  get    riu   ui  .1 

siiipped.       Early    in    the    ..       .y 

storm  of  rain  swept  over  the  lake,  acconi- 
|)anied  by  thunder  and  a  g;.lc  of  wind 
This,  however,  did  not  last  long,  and  as  soon 
as  it  was  over  the  wind  conimenced  to  dro|) 
rapidly,  and  before  long  the  sun  was  again 
shining   brightly    in  a  clear   sky.      It    was  lour 


h  '  OJh-   U  \ 


fried  in  bacon  on  the  spot,  the  other  two 
being  re.served  for  dinner.  They  were  most 
delicious.  The  fishing  season  for  salmon  and 
trout  closes  in  Newfoundland  on  September  lotii, 
but  I  believe  it  is  considered  allowable  for  a 
traveller  to  catch  a  few  fish  for  the  pot  after  the 
fishing  season  has  legally  closed.  Until  I  got 
some  caribou  meat  to  eat  I  constantly  tried  to 
d(j  so,  but,  curiously  enough,  I  never  got  another 
fish  to  look  at  the  bait  which  at  first  had 
appeared  to  be  so  attractive. 

Instead  of  following  the  western  shore  ol 
Terra  Nova  Lake,  as  we  had  done  the  previous 
year,  when  we  ascended  the  St.  Oeorge's  River, 
we  now  made  for  the  mouth  of  the  South-West 
River,  which  enters  the  lake  at  its  extreme 
southern  end.  l!\  the  time  we  had  finished 
breakfast  a  strong  wind  had  sprung  u|),  against 
which  we  made  headway  only  witli  the  greatest 
difficulty,  as  it  blew  right  in  our  teeth  and 
knocked  up  a  short,  choppy  .sea.  We  were 
obliged  to  work  along  the  shore  for  fear  of 
l.>eing  cajjsized,  and  were  continually  compelled 
to  land,  unload  the  canoes,  and  then  turn  them 


o'clock   when   we  at  last  entered   the  mouth  of 
the    South-West     River,    the    water    in     which 
Saunders  declared  to  be  lower  than  he  had  ever 
seen  it   before  -the  natural   result   of  an  excep- 
tionally   dry    summer.     Alter    paddling  up  the 
river  for  an  hour  or  so  we  came  to  a  section 
of   it   which  perhaps  could  hardly   be  called  a 
rapid,   but  through  which  it  was  nnpossible  to 
paddle,  as   for  a  space   of  three  hundred  yards 
the  bed  of  the  river   was  studded   with   r 
amongst  which  the  water  rushed  at 
With    the    help    of    ropes    and    p.i 
wading  them.selves  in  water  alwve  their  kn^ 
Saumlers    and     Wells    got    the    c  v 

through  all    obslru<tion.s,  and    --i'  "^ 

we  cam|)ed. 

When    day    broke    the 
the    mist    in    the    valley   of   u.-  -    --■ 

dense  that  one  could  not  see  ten  1  any 

direction.     By    six    o'clock,    however,    it    had 
cleared  a  good   deal,  so  v  '     '  'S 

and   got    under    way.      V  ,  il 

more  than  a  hundred   yards  when  I  saw    two 
large  objects  moving  through   the  mist,   not  far 


34S 


THE     \Vli)E    WORLD    MAC.A/IN'E. 


away  on  our  left  front.  It  was  impossible  to 
tell  what  they  were ;  but  as  soon  as  I  had  con- 
vinced myself  that  they  were  moving  I  called 
Saunders's  attention  to  them,  and  he  at  once 
said  that  they  must  be  deer.  They  were 
travelling  westwards  and  following  the  course  of 
the  river,  which  here  (as  we  afterwards  found, 
but  could  not  then  see  on  account  of  the  mist) 
skirted  an  open  tract  of  marshy  ground. 

I  now  landed  on  the  near  side  of  the  river 
and  made  my  way  as  quickly  as  j)ossible  across 
a  bend  in  its  course,  in  the  hope  of  getting  ahead 
of  the  caribou  and  obtaining  a  shot  at  one  of 
them  as  they  passed  along  on  the  other  side  of 
the  river.  I  was  too  late,  however,  as  I  had  not 
reckoned  upon  an  obstacle  in  the  shape  of  a 
mass  of  debris,  washed  down  by  the  last  spring 
floods  and  composed  of  dry  sticks  and  poles  of 
all  sizes.  In  spite  of  my  utmost  precautions  I 
found  it  impossible  to  pass  this  barrier  without 
making  some  noise,  and  this  must  have 
alarmed  the  caribou,  as  when  I  sighted  them 
again  they  had  already  passed  the  spot  where  I 
had  hoped  to  get  a  shot  at  them  and  were  trot- 
ting along  the  water's  edge,  and — as  I  dis- 
covered when  the  mist  cleared  off — were  already 
two  hundred  yards  away  from  me.  I  thought 
they  were  nearer,  for,  although  their  forms 
were  somewhat  ill-defined  in  the  mist,  I  could 
see  that  the  hindmost  animal  carried  horns  of 
some  size,  and  was  therefore  a  stag.  I  lost  no 
time  in  firing  at  him  and  heard  my  bullet  hit. 
He  ran  on  a  short  distance  and  then  stood  still, 
evidently  facing  right  away  from  me,  as  I  could 
only  see  the  white  of  his  hindquarters.  My 
second  shot  missed  its  mark,  I  think,  for, 
altiiough  it  hit  somewhere,  the  sound  was  not 
convincing,  and  I  fancy  it  struck  the  bank  just 
in  front  of  the  stag.  At  any  rate,  he  turned 
round  immediately  and  came  galloping  back 
towards  me  along  the  water's  edge.  When 
nearly  opposite  he  ran  knee-deep  into  the  water, 
and  as  I  thought  he  was  going  to  swim  across 
to  my  side  of  the  river  I  did  not  fire  at 
him  when  he  halted.  I'or  a  few  moments 
he  stood  nearly  broadside  on,  within  easy  shot, 
i'ossibly  he  scented  me,  though  there  appeared 
to  be  no  breath  of  wind  stirring.  At  any  rate, 
he  turned  suddenly  and  made  for  the  bank 
again.  I  had  been  holding  my  rifle  trained  on 
to  him  for  some  seconds,  and  as  he  turned  1 
still  had  a  good  sight  on  him,  and  should  un- 
doubtedly have  killed  him  had  I  got  in  my 
shot  at  that  moment.  But  in  some  way,  since 
pushing  in  the  last  cartridge,  which  must  have 
automatically  cocked  my  rifle,  I  had  uncon- 
sciously moved  the  .safety  catch.  I  tried  in 
vain  to  pull  the  trigger,  and  by  the  time  I  had 
realized  what  was  wrong  and  released  the  safety 


bolt  the  stag  was  going  up  the  steep  bank  of 
the  river.  I  fired  just  as  he  was  going  over 
the  top  and  know  I  hit  him,  but  as  he  was 
going  almost  straight  away  from  me  my  bullet 
probably  hit  him  either  m  the  flank  or  hind- 
cjuarters. 

I  now  waited  for  some  little  time  expecting 
the  canoes  to  come  up,  but  as  they  did  not  do 
so  I  ran  back  along  the  water's  edge  to  call 
them.  I  had  not  proceeded  far  when  a  turn  in 
the  river  gave  me  a  view  over  tne  open  piece  of 
ground  which  I  have  spoken  of  before,  which 
lay  between  the  river  and  the  forest,  some  four 
hundred  yards  distant.  Here  I  immediately 
saw  the  caribou  standing.  He  was  evidently 
very  badly  wounded,  as,  although  some  minutes 
had  now  elapsed  since  I  last  fired  at  him,  he 
had  only  moved  a  very  short  distance,  and  when 
I  first  .saw  him  was  standing  still  with  his  head 
down.  Then  as  I  watched  he  moved  very 
slowly  forward  again  towards  the  forest.  At 
this  moment  the  mist  lifted  a  little,  and  I 
might  have  fired  at  the  wounded  stag  again  at  a 
distance  of  perhaps  three  hundred  yards,  but  I 
never  thought  of  doing  so,  as  I  felt  sure  he  was 
done  for  and  as  good  as  mine,  'llien  the  mist 
came  down  again  and  hid  him  completely  from 
my  view.  I  now  ran  back  to  the  canoes  and, 
accompanied  by  both  my  men,  crossed  the 
river  as  quickly  as  possible,  in  order  to  follow 
up  the  wounded  caribou.  We  soon  found  a 
very  heavy  blood  trail,  which  we  followed 
easily  for  perhaps  a  mile  in  very  dense  forest. 
Then  the  blood  began  to  show  less  distinctly 
on  the  wet  leaves  and  soaking,  spongy 
ground.  At  length  we  came  to  where  the 
wounded  stag  had  been  lying  down.  He 
had  probably  only  just  got  on  his  feet  again 
when  we  were  quite  close  to  him,  but  the 
forest  was  here  very  thick.  On  rising  the  sorely 
tried  but  stubborn  animal  had  not  gone  away 
at  a  run,  but  had  just  dragged  itself  off  at  a 
slow  walk.  W^e  were,  however,  only  able  to 
follow  at  a  still  slower  pace,  as  there  was  now 
i)ut  little  I)lood  to  guide  us,  and  we  found  it 
almost  impossible  to  detect  any  sign  of  hoof 
marks  in  the  wet,  spongy  moss  with  which  the 
ground  was  everywhere  covered.  I  know  of  no 
country  where  the  track  of  a  wounded  animal, 
if  tiiere  is  no  blood  on  tiie  s[)Oor,  is  so  difficult 
to  follow  as  in  Newfoundland.  Finally  we  gave 
u[)  all  hope  of  getting  up  to  the  stag  by  tracking 
it,  and  spent  a  couple  of  hours  in  (piartering 
the  dense  forest  in  every  direction  in  front 
and  on  each  side  in  the  hope  of  finding  it,  but 
this  plan  also  met  with  no  success,  and  at  length 
wi'  returned  to  the  canoes  em[)ty-handed.  I  do 
not  think  that  this  caribou  stag  carried  a  very 
line  head,  though,  as  well  as  I  could  judge  of  it 


AKTHR     WOODLAND    CARIIJOL"     IN     NKWI  Ol'NDI.ANir 


%A<) 


111  llic  niibt,  il  was  a  fairly  good  one  ;  but  apart 
altogether  from  the  value  of  its  head  as  a  tropliy 
we  wanted  the  animal  badly  for  the  sake  of  its 
meat,  and  above  all  I  felt  intense  chagrin  ami 
morlirieation  at  the  thought  that  I  had  mortallv 
wounded  a  line  animal,  whose  death  would 
profit  no  one.  However,  this  is  the  only 
mistake  of  the  kind  that  I  have  made  in 
two  expeditions  after  caribou.  \\'hen  we  again 
reached  the  river  the  mist  had  entirely  cleared 
ofT,  but  clouds  were  now 
comnig  up  from  the  south 
west,  and  we  had  no 
sooner  re  -  embarked  in 
the  canoes  than  it  com- 
menced to  rain  heavily, 
and  never  left  off  again 
till  after  sundown.  We 
therefore  went  ashore 
early  in  the  afternoon, 
and  pitched  camp  in  a 
snug  spot  in  the  midst  of 
some  thick  spruce  trees. 
Then  Saunders  and  I 
took  a  round  in  the  rain 
up  the  river  and  across 
some  large,  open  stretches 
of  bog  ;  but  we  did  not 
come  across  any  more 
caribou,  though  we  saw 
some  pretty  fresh  tracks. 
We  were  wet  through 
when  we  returned  to 
camp  —  more  from  the 
water  which  had  poured 
on  to  us  from  every  tree 
and  bush  than  from  the 

rain  itself.  However,  getting  wet  in  Newfound- 
land matters  very  little.  As  long  as  you  are 
moving  it  does  not  hurt  you,  and  after  getting 
back  to  camp  you  can  soon  get  everything  dried 
again  before  a  glorious  log  fire. 

On  the  following  day  the  weather  was  fine 
and  warm — a  good  deal  too  warm,  in  fact,  as  the 
heat  of  the  sun  revivified  numbers  of  little  black 
flies,  which  I  imagined  had  given  up  business 
for  the  season,  as  I  had  seen  none  previously, 
though  I  had  heard  that  they  were  very  bad 
along  the  rivers  of  Newfoundland  in  the  summer 
months.  I  found  that  the  bites  of  these 
venomous  little  flies,  although  scarcely  notice- 
able at  first,  cause  a  great  deal  of  irritation  sub- 
sequently, which  takes  a  long  time  to  subside. 

On  September  12th  Saunders  and  Wells  had 
a  very  hard  day  hauling  the  canoes  through 
innumerable  rapids,  or  "  rattles,"  as  they  called 
them,  and  our  progress  was  necessarily  very 
slow.  As  I  could  do  little  or  nothing  to  help 
my  men  I  went  on  ahead  along  the  bank  of  the 


river  in  the  hope  ol  seeing  cam  on,  Dul  aid  not 
come  across  any.  Just  at  dusk  the  canoes 
reached  the  foot  of  a  very  beautiful  though 
nameless  waterfall,  and  here  we  c.r  •  t  the 

night.  The  first  thing  to  be  do;,,  i.,..  next 
morning  was  to  cut  a  trail  through  thick 
spruce  forest,  round  the  falls,  and  past  ihc 
rapids  above  them.  When  this  was  accom- 
jjlished  we  had  to  carry  the  canoes,  as  well 
as  all  our  stores  and  camp  e(|uipment,  aloni: 


J'roiii  n\ 


Tlin;    NAMELESS   WATERFALL    O.N    THE    lEKKA    .NuV.V    KlVtK.  .,'.•,■;,, 

the  path  we  had  cut.  This  we  did  in 
three  trips,  and  before  midday  had  the  two 
canoes  once  more  afloat  and  all  ready  loaded 
for  a  fresh  start.  From  this  point  another  two 
miles  or  so  of  hauling  through  a  succession  of 
small,  shallow  rapids  brought  us  to  a  \\v\^'  lake, 
or  "  pond,"  as  all  lakes  are  called  in  Newfound- 
land. This  sheet  of  water,  which  is  two  or 
three  miles  in  length  anil  over  a  mile  in 
breadth,  is  known  as  Mi)llyg()j.i<  k.  an  Indi.in 
name  the  meaning  of  which  I  «.i^ 
able  to  discover.  After  the  s' 
we  had  made  during  the  '>-'  ' 
getting  the  canoes  up  th 
cumbered  river  it  was  a  great  ! 
open  water  once  more.  \Nh' 
the  head  of  the  lake  we  s 
way  off  walking  slowly  along  the 
he  disappeared  behi 

top  end  of  the  lake, ■"' 

found,  to  the  mouth  of  the  river  which 

St.    lohn's   I^ke  with   Mollygojack.      Wc  now 


■n 

iiUo 
>  to 

f 

y 

e 


350 


THi:   wini:   world   magazine. 


From  a\ 


LAKK    MOI.l.VGOJACK,    WHEKK    THK    ALIHiiK    .M  K 1     Ullil    Sl),\[l-,   t,iK)IJ    Sl'ukl. 


[J 'koto. 


paddled  as  hard  as  we  could,  and  I  landed  in 
the  shelter  of  some  wooded  islands  near  the 
mouth  of  the  river,  without  having  again  seen 
the  caribou.  I  lost  no  time  in  making  my 
way  across  a  wooded  y^romontory  to  a  piece 
of  rocky  ground  on  the  river's  edge,  and, 
after  standing  there  for  some  minutes  without 
seeing  anything,  was  just  about  to  return  to  the 
canoe,  under  the  impression  that  the  caribou 
must  have  turned  into  the  forest  behind 
him,  when  I  thought  I  heard  a  low  grunt 
just  opposite  me,  and  almost  directly  after- 
wards the  tops  of  the  horns  of  a  caribou 
stag  appeared  above  some  bushes  on  the  farther 
side  of  the  river.  Soon  the  animal  showed  itself 
in  full  view  and,  standing  three  parts  facing  me, 
offered  an  excellent  shot  at  a  distance  of  about 
one  hundred  and  twenty  yards.  I  fired  imme- 
diately and,  as  I  subsequently  found,  iii)-  bullet 
passed  through  the  upper  })art  of  llu:  stag's 
heart.  He  did  not,  however,  at  once  make 
a  rush  forwards,  as  animals  usually  do  when 
shot  through  the  heart,  l)ut  first  staggered 
about  and  I  thought  was  going  to  fall.  He 
recovered  himself,  however,  and  dashed  into 
the  river  at  full  speed  until  he  was  chest 
deep,  when  he  colla[)sed  and  died.  He  proved 
to  be  a  fine  young  stag  in  splendid  condition, 
the  layer  of  fat  over  his  loins  and  hindquarters 
being  quite  two  inches  in  thickness.  His  horns 
were  small  and  light,  but  wonderfully  regular, 
and  carried  twenty  points.  Had  I  not  wanted 
meat  I  should  not  have  shot  iiim  for  his  head, 
but  Ixjth  my  companions  and  myself  were 
getting  very  meat-hungry.  I>etter  meat  than 
that  of  a  Newfoundland  caribou  stag,  shot  when 
in  high  condition  in  early  autumn,  is,  in  my 
opinion,  not  to  be  found  the  world  over. 

The  following  morning  broke  dull  and  grey, 
and  the  clouds  hung  low  over  lake  and  forest. 
Heavy  rnin  soon  set  in  anfl  lasted  till  late  in  the 
afternoon.  In  spite  of  the  unpromising  weather 
I  went  out  with  Saunders  in  search  of  deer  as 
soon  as  1  had  skinned  the  head  i.A  the  stag  sliul 


the  previous  evening,  but  we  on]\  got  wet  through 
for  our  pains,  without  encountering  any  caribou. 

The  next  day  was  not  only  fine  and  warm,  but 
actually  sultry.  After  a  substantial  breakfast 
just  at  dawn  Saunders  and  I  mode  an  early 
start,  and  after  passing  through  the  fringe  of 
forest  which  skirts  the  lake  got  into  a  country 
of  extensive  0[)en  marshes,  interspersed  with 
rocky  "  l)arrens,"  dense  spruce  woods,  and  small 
lakes  and  ponds.  Tiie  ground  seemed  ideal  for 
caribou,  and,  as  we  knew  that  this  part  of  the 
country  had  been  absolutely  undisturbed  since 
the  previous  autumn,  we  expected  every  moment 
to  meet  with  some  of  these  animals;  but 
allhough  in  the  course  of  the  day  we  trudged 
many  a  mile  through  bog  and  forest,  and  did 
not  get  back  to  camp  till  long  after  dark,  we 
only  saw  one  young  stag.  I  crept  close  up  to 
this  animal  and  found  that  his  horns  were  small 
and  still  in  the  velvet,  so  I  let  him  alone. 
During  the  day  we  met  with  a  great  prcjfusion 
of  edible  berries.  These  were  of  two  kinds, 
which  are  known  locally  as  "  blue  berries  "  and 
"  partridge  berries."  They  are  plentiful,  I 
beheve,  all  over  Newfoundland,  wiierever  out- 
crops of  rock  s{)arsely  covered  with  soil  ri.se 
above  the  level  of  the  marshes  ;  and,  besides 
being  greedily  eaten  by  bears,  form  the  staple 
food  in  the  autumn  montlis  of  the  willow 
grouse,  which  grow  fat  and  attain  a  most  delicate 
flavour  in  consecjuence. 

Just  at  dusk,  as  we  were  passing  a  small 
sheet  of  water,  a  ])air  of  great  northern  divers 
commenced  to  call  vociferously.  Tiiese  fine 
i)irds  are  very  common  in  Newfoundlantl,  where 
they  are  known  as  "  loons,"  and  their  wild  and 
somewhat  melancholy  cry  is  often  heard  both 
by  day  and  night.  I  have  always  loved  to  listen 
to  the  cries  of  wild  creatures,  especially  by  night; 
but  I  know  of  no  sound  in  Nature  more  in 
harmony  witii  the  wild  desolation  of  its  sur- 
roundings than  the  mournful  cry  of  the  loon,  as 
it  echoes  across  the  waters  of  some  lonely  lake 
m  the  little-known  intirior  of  Newfoundland. 


Al' ii:K    WoDhl.ANl)    CARlliOU     IN     NKWl-UUNDl.AN'D. 


On  the  fullowing  day  we  pushed  on  up  the 
river  whicli  connects  Mollygojack  and  St.  John's 
J^ke,  reaching  the  latter  sheet  of  water  soon 
alter  midday.  The  stream  whicli  connects  the 
two  lakes  pursues  a  most  tortuous  course  through 
a  densely-wooded  plain,  passing  on  its  way 
through  several  shallow  lagoons,  the  connection 
between  one  and  the  other  being  often  some- 
what difficult  to  fuid. 

Whilst  we  were  having  our  midday  meal  on 
the  lake  shore  a  young  caribou  stag  came  out 
of  the  forest  within  two  hundred  yards  of  us, 
and  without  ap|)earing  to  observe  us,  though  we 
were  sitting  in  lull  view  on  some  rocks,  sauntered 
slowly  along  tiie  water's  edge  for  a  short  dis- 
tance and  then  turned  into  the  forest  again. 
Before  we  had  finished  our  lunch  it  came  on  to 
rain,  and  continued  to  do  so,  though  not  heavily, 


an  excellent  view  for  a  lung 
shores  of  the  lake,  and  also  u; 
river.     We   also  found  the  wigwan 
poles   covered    with    birch    bark  in    wiiKh    iIh' 
last  party  of  Indian  hunters  had  lived,  .some  ••■ 
or   three    years    before    the    date   ol    our    \ . 
Except  by  these  Indian  hunters,  who,  I  believe. 
were  principally  engaged  in  ti  '  1 

only  occasionally  shot  carib<  I  i 

meat,  Saunders  averred  that  the  country  imme- 
diately to  the  south  and  west  of  St.  John's  I^kc 
had  never  been  hunted,  and  never  even  vi-''-  •' 
except  by  Mr.  Howley— a  surveyor  in  theenij 
mentofthe  Government  of  Newfoundland— and 
a  lumbering  party  in  search  of  timber,  v.'  '  1 
spenta winter  half-way  betweenSl.  John's  1  1 

Mollygojack  in  1898.     Certainly  all  the  caribou 
I  saw  during  the  next  few  days  were  very  tame. 


1-1  out  a 


until  nightfall.  In  the  afternoon  we  paddled  all 
along  the  southern  shore  of  the  lake,  and  by 
four  o'clock  reached  the  mouth  of  a  consider- 
able river  flowing  into  it  from  the  south- 
west. Here  we  camped  in  the  shelter  of  the 
thick  forest,  which  ran  out  to  a  point,  in  the 
angle  formed  between  the  lake  shore  and  the 
southern  bank  of  the  river,  ^\'e  subsequently 
found  that  we  had  selected  a  spot  for  our  camp 
which  had  been  a  favourite  resort  of  Indian 
hunters,  possibly  for  generations,  as  we  found 
steps  cut  in  the  trunk  of  one  of  three  large  pine 
trees,  which  grew  slanting  towards  the  lake  at  an 
angle  of  twenty-five  or  thirty  degrees.  These  steps 
had  all  the  appearance  of  great  age,  and  the  tree 
in  whose  stem  they  had  been  cut  had  evidently 
been  used  as  a  look-out  post  from  which  lo 
watch  for  deer.     We  found  that  it  commandeil 


sigiu  ol  n 


and  showed  so  little  fear  at  the 

and    my    companions   that   we   may  well 

been  the  first  human  beings  they  had  ever 

When  we  were  entering  the  mouth  of  llie 

and  paddling  up   to   the  campir    •  '  ■    ■   T 

just  described    there  was  a   sin>, 

standing    on     the    shore,     which     seti 

interested  in  the  unwonted   sight  if 

that   it   would   not   move  unfl    A' 

within  seventy  yards  of  it. 

vanced  towards  it,  it   trotteil   > 

haltetl    and    turned    to    stare    ; 

again    before    finally    entmng 

number   of  Canadian   geese  and  black   i 

which  had  been  sittin 

mouth  of  the   river  •■ 

and  tlew  off  long   before  w.  withm 

shot  of  them. 


U^ell 

ha\c 
seen. 

river 

1, ,.-.. 


riliu 


{To  be  continued.) 


^  Franklin, 


An  amusing  account  of  the  trials  and  tribulations  which  befell  a  Kaffir  trader  who  undertook  to  sell 

medicines   to    the   natives.     He  had  no  medical  knowledge,  could    not    even  read  the  labels  on  the 

bottles,  and  in  consequence  both  he  and  his  patients  had  some  exciting  experiences. 


T  was  ill  the  early  days  of  niy 
Kaffir  trading  experience,  and  when 
my  quahfications  to  pose  as  a 
universal  provider  to  the  imtutored 
black  were  not  so  distinctly  palpable 
as  I  could  have  wished,  that  this  incident  occurred. 
My  store  was  a  building  of  the  ordinary 
bungalow  type,  situated  immediately  opposite 
the  main  entrance  to  a  large  Kaffir  kraal, 
and  it  contained  a  stock  which  was  as  varied 
in  its  assortment  as  it  was  peculiar  in  its 
nature.  At  that  time  I  had  no  knowledge  of 
the  Kaffir  language,  but  most  of  the  Kaffir  men 
could  converse  in  the  Boer  tongue,  and,  as  1 
gradually  acquired  a  speaking  acquaintance  with 
this  language,  we  got  on  pretty  well. 

Although  in  the  course  of  my  daily  round  and 
conunon  task  my  customers  abused  me  with  a 
liberality  of  invective  that  might  have  been 
extremely  trying  to  bear  had  it  been  in  the 
slightest  degree  intelligible,  I  made  ninny  friends 
among  them  ;  and  it  followed  very  naturally  that 
when  any  of  them  fell  ill  1  heard  about  it,  and 
endeavoured  to  afford  them  relief  by  doses  of 
medicine  from  the  little  stock  of  remedies  which 
I  kept  for  my  own  use. 

Having  been  successful  in  curing  several  cases 
of  malarial  fever,  and  affording  relief  to  the 
jKJSsessors  of  other  minor  ailments,  it  got  noised 
abroad  that  I  was  possessed  of  great  medical 
skill,   and    I    was    daily    worried     by    would-be 


patients  who,  refusing  to  accept  my  assurance 
that  my  stock  of  medicines  was  almost  exhausted, 
lounged  about  the  store,  sat  in  picturesque  but 
morose  groujis  upon  the  floor,  and  waylaid  me 
in  ever-increasing  numbers  upon  the  stoep, 
until  they  became  a  positive  annoyance.  This 
state  of  things  went  on  for  some  time,  and 
when  I  found  it  growing  worse  instead  of  better 
I  resolved  to  put  an  end  to  it.  If  the  Kaffirs 
decided  to  have  medicine  they  should  have 
it — but  they  should  jiay  for  it. 

The  day  I  got  that  idea  I  closed  the  store  an 
hour  earlier  than  usual,  saddled  up  my  Basuto 
]ionv,  and  rode  to  the  nearest  telegra[)h-office, 
twenty-five  miles  away. 

My  agent  in  Johannesburg  was  an  energetic 
man,  and  when  he  received  my  wire  for  "  three 
gross  bottles  assorted  medicine  suitable  for 
natives,"  he  promptly  set  about  complying  with 
it.  The  next  mail  brought  a  letter  from  him  to 
say  that,  as  there  did  not  seem  to  be  any  special 
medicines  ui)on  the  market  adapted  solely  for 
Kaffu-  use,  he  had  purchased  the  requisite 
(luantitv  ot  such  Dutch  medicines  as  were  in 
common  use  among  the  Boers,  and  was  for- 
warding same  with  my  _  next  consignment  of 
goods. 

It  was  just  a  fortnight  later  that  a  bullock 
waggon  drew  up  in  front  of  the  store,  laden  hiL^li 
with  packages  consigned  to  "J.  K.  I'lanklin, 
Magato's  Kraal,  N.W.  Transvaal  " 


'I'Hl':    Mi;i»l(  1X1.     MAN. 


3  5.^ 


Heforc    it    h;ul    come   to    a    standstill    I    had 
iliinlx'd  upon   it   in   search  of  luy  treasure,  and 
when  the    Kaffir   driver  pointed    out   to    nie  the 
conijiact    little    case    labelled    "  I'ragile       \\';th 
Care,"  I  trembled  so  that  I  was  afraid  to  lift  it 
from  the  waggon  lest  it   should  fall,   smashin;^ 
the  jiriceless  contents  that  were  to  bring  relief  to 
thousands -or,  rather,  three  gross-  of  suffering 
humanity.  ^Vith 
a  great  effort  I 
steadied    my 
n  e  r  \-  e  s    and 
managed  to  lift 
it  down  from 
the     waggon, 
carry  it  through 
the    store,    and 
deposit  it  gently 
upon    my  bed. 
1    would    not 
open  it  at  once ; 
that   must  be 
done     secretly, 
when  the  store 
was    closed  for 
the  day  and  my 
attendant 
Kaffirs    had 
gone  to  their 
huts.     Mean- 
while I  sat  and 
gazed    upon    it 
with    longing 
eyes,  the  while 
my  boys  pre- 
cipitated the  remainder  of  my  goods  from  the 
waggon  on  to  the  stoep. 

There  was  some  difficulty  in  getting  the  store 
closed  that  night;  the  number  of  my  pro- 
spective patients  had  increased  as  the  days  went 
on,  and  when  they  knew  that  the  medicine  had 
arrived  they  were  impatient  to  begin  upon  it  at 
once,  ^\'ith  a  view  to  makini>  them  still  more 
eager,  and  with  an  idea  that  it  would  be  as  well  to 
look  through  the  assorted  medicines  before  pre- 
scribing, I  refused  to  listen  to  their  request ;  and 
telling  them  that  the  morrow  would  find  me  pre- 
pared to  attend  to  them  in  my  medical  capacity — 
it  is  difficult  to  translate  "  medical  capacity  "  into 
Boer-Dutch  when  you  know  as  little  of  the 
language  as  I  did— I  pushed  the  last  invalid  t)ut 
of  the  store,  dismissed  my  house  Kaffir,  double- 
locked  the  door,  and  retreated  to  my  room, 
where  the  chest  still  lay  upon  my  bed. 

By  the  light  of  two  small  lamps  I  gently 
prised  off  the  lid  and  revealed  a  layer  of  paper  ; 
beneath  this  cime  a  layer  of  straw  of  some 
thickness,  then  some  corrugated  cardboard, 
another  layer  of  [)aper,  and  then  row  upon  row 

Vol.  X.— 45. 


I    PICKED    UF   ONE    BOTTLE   AND    HELD   IT   TO   THE    LIGHT. 


of  little  glass  phials.  In  t...  um.  .i..i:m  i:-ut  i 
could  See  that  their  lal>els  bore  the  name  of  the 
contents  in  large  letters,  while  the  directions 
made   two   lines   of  smaller    print    b-  1 

picked  up  one  bottle  and  held  it  to  :..,  .  ,,.ii, 
and  then  a  feeling  of  dismay  took  possession  of 
nil-.     The  label  was  printed  in  Dutch  ! 

I  ijicked  up  another  that  was  Duici..  1 
grabbed  at  half-a-dozen  and 
glared  at  them  with  something 
of  the  expression  of  a  lost  soul. 
ley  Were  all  in  Dutch  ! 

I  iiave  said  before 
that  I  had  ac(|uired  a 
Imiited  speaking  know- 
ledge of  Boer-Duti.h 

how  limited  I 
only  now  rea 
ii/ed  —  but  I 
c  o  u  1  d  n  o  I 
undertake  to 
read  even  the 
simplest  words 
in  that  lan- 
guage. In  fact, 
I  do  not  think 
I  had  met  with 
it  in  print  be- 
fore, and  should 
not  now  have 
known  what  it 
was  but  for  my 
agent's  letter, 
w  h  i  c  h  had 
spoken  of  these 
in   common   use  anioni:  the 


medicines   being 
Boers." 

For  an  hour  I  sat  beside  that  chest  and 
tortured  myself  with  thoughts  of  the  morrow. 
Like  the  fleeting  jiictures  of  the  cinematograph, 
I  saw  a  vision  of  that  coming  day — a  host  of 
suffering  Kaffirs,  with  a  profountl  and  childlike 
faith  in  my  medical  knowledge,  coming  to  me 
to  be  relieved  of  their  various  aches  and  pains ; 
and   myself,  helpless  and  hopeless  in  a  •  d 

struggle    with  three    gross    bottles    of  d 

medicines  of  whose  properties  I  was  o  v 

ignorant. 

I  .saw  myself  either  refusir  ■  ' 
of  it  at  all,  and  by  that  coui  -r 

wrath  as  to  make  the  whole  tril)e  turn  and  rend 
me,  or  else   serving   them   ■  '  "  'v 

with  whatever  bottle  I  chaiii ,  ^ 

on,  until  half  their  number  had   expired  with 
grotesque   and    lu)rribl<-   » .  y 

floor,  while  the  other  '      ' 
to  die. 

.Mechanically  I   h  ■  o«»c 

by  one,  and  arrangeu  tin.iu  in  .k  tuiu.nx  c  with 


354 


THli    WIDE    ^^'ORLD    MAGAZINE. 


the  heathenish-looking  names  upon  their  labels, 
until  the  floor  of  my  room  was  well-nigh  covered 
with  them.  There  were  twenty-four  sorts  in  all. 
Of  one  sort  there  would  be  only  four  or  five 
bottles,  and  of  another  a  dozen  or  more. 

I  looked  at  my  watch  ;  it  was  seven  o'clock. 
At  seven  the  ne.\t  morning  my  store  must  be 
opened.  I  had  just  twelve  hours  in  which  to  pre- 
pare !    Then  a  great  and  noble  idea  came  to  me. 

Could  I  heartlessly  prescribe  haphazard  for 
those  weaker  brethren  of  mine,  and  listen  un- 
moved to  their  piteous  cries  when  one  should 
happen  upon  a  fatal  dose?  I  could  not.  If 
anyone  had  to  suffer  it  should  be  myself. 

Not  a  year  goes  past,  I  reflected,  but  some 
valuable  life  is  yielded  up 
in  the  interests  of  medical 
science  ;  why  should  I  hold 
back  ?  There  were  twenty- 
four  sorts  of  medicine  ; 
there  were  twelve  hours 
left  in  which  to  test  them. 
That  would  allow  just  half 
an  hour  for  each  sort  to 
work  its  bitter  will  upon 
me  ;  possibly  death  would 
intervene  at  an  early  stage 
and  save  me  from  testing 
them  all.  Later  I  regretted 
that  it  did  not. 

I  began  with  a  compound 
that  looked  the  most  inno- 
cent of  all.  It  was  as  clear 
as  water  until  shaken,  and 
then  it  grew  disturbed  and 
milky.  Upon  the  label  it 
said  in  large  letters,  "Oogen 
Droppels  "  ;  then  came  two 
lines  of  directions  in  smaller 
print.  As  there  were  two 
dozen  bottles  of  it,  I  felt 
that  it  must  be  something 
that  was  more  often  needed 
than  the  other  sorts.  I  look  out  the  cork.  A 
faint  aroma,  as  of  a  newlydug  grave,  made  me 
pause  for  a  moment.  'I'hen  I  poured  out  half 
a  tea-spoonful  and  drank  it  down. 

When  I  was  able  to  think  coherently  again, 
I  was  paler  but  still  resolved.  I  took  hold  of 
another  bottle.  I  have  forgotten  the  name  of 
that  mixture,  but  it  smelt  like  tar  and  tasted  like 
decayed  ink.  At  the  end  of  thirty  minutes  I 
was  not  only  alive  but  almost  cheerful.  I  tried 
a  third.  As  that  was  tasteless  I  only  gave  it 
twenty  minutes. 

At  the  end  of  that  time  I  found  myself 
whistling  some  light  refrain.  I  checked  myself 
instantly ;    this   was   no   time    for    levity.      The 


THK    AL'IHdK,    MR.    J.     E.     FKANKLIN. 

From   a   Photo,   by    IV.    IV.    Cuenee. 


thick  and  sticky  that  I  thought  it  better  to 
mix  it  with  a  little  water.  I  made  an  attempt 
to  swallow  it. 

The  water  went  down  all  right,  but  the  green 
stuff  stuck  upon  my  tongue,  plastered  itself 
upon  the  roof  of  my  mouth,  and  cemented  my 
palate.  It  did  not  taste  of  anything  in  par- 
ticular ;  it  only  burnt.  Looking  back  now 
upon  that  time,  calmly  and  dispassionately,  I 
am  strongly  of  opinion  that  it  was  something 
for  corns.  Whatever  it  was,  it  undoubtedly 
saved  my  life. 

Everything  I  drank  after  that  was  bereft  of 
all  its  natural  strength  and  flavour  ;  as  soon  as  I 
got  it  in  my  mouth  the  corn  cure  seized  upon  it 

and  scorched  it  into  a  state 
of  hopeless  nothingness.  I 
had  nitended  to  make  a 
list  of  all  the  different 
medicines,  and  set  down 
against  each  a  few  notes 
upon  its  taste,  smell,  and 
general  effect,  but  after  the 
fourth  bottle  this  was  use- 
less. They  were  all  alike, 
tasteless  and  void  of  effect, 
until  I  came  to  the  last  one 
of  all. 

The  sun  was  streaming 
in  at  my  window  —  had 
been  doing  so  for  a  couple 
of  hours — when  I  came  to 
that  last  dose.  It  was 
labelled  "  Benaardheitschi- 
flichen,"  or  something 
sinnlar,  and  was  of  a  dark, 
reddy-brown  hue.  U'ith  a 
feeling  of  thankfulness  that 
almost  amounted  to  in- 
toxication, I  poured  out  a 
spoonful  of  it. 

The  moment  it  touched 
my  tongue  so m e t h i n g 
began  to  fizzle  and  effervesce,  then  a  strange 
feeling  took  possession  of  me,  as  though  someone 
had  secreted  a  siphon  of  soda-water  in  the  back 
of  my  throat  and  the  neck  had  suddenly  flown 
off.  My  mouth  was  full  of  hot  foam,  the 
passage  of  my  nose  was  stopped,  and  I  became 
aware  of  an  irresistible  desire  to  breathe  through 
my  ears.  When  I  regained  consciousness  there 
were  flakes  of  some  hard  substance  in  my  mouth 
^the  corn  cure  had  peeled  off,  and  with  it  the 
skin  of  my  tongue. 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door  of  my  room. 
I  ojjcned  it  and  let  in  the  house  Kaffir.  He 
glanced  curiously  at  me,  then  at  the  bottles, 
then  at  me   again.       I   wondered   if   he    would 


fourth     bottle    contained    a    greenish    fluid,    so         understand  what   I   had  been  doing  — recognise 


THE    MEDICINE    MAN. 


**  p  ■■ 


the  sarrifice  I  had  offered  fur  him  and  his 
people.  His  face,  however,  betrayed  no  emotion, 
and  he  said,  quite  cahiily,  "Coffee,  Baas?" 

I  waved  him  from  the  room,  tlien  I  sat  down 
and  solemnly  wrote  upon   my   incomplete   list, 


AND   -rilliX    AT   THE    llorTI.KS. 


opposite  the  word  "  Benaardheitschiflichen," 
"  Of  great  effect  in  ca.ses  where  the  patient  has 
swallowed  a  quantity  of  tar,  concrete,  asphalt, 
or  fish-glue."  Then  I  carried  the  bottles  into 
the  store,  arranged  them  in  rows  upon  a  red 
cloth-covered  shelf,  and  threw  open  the  front 
door  with  a  magnificent  gesture  that  might  have 
meant  anything  or  nothing. 

It  was  my  custom  to  close  the  store  every 
morning  from  half-past  eigiit  till  nine,  while  I 
had  my  breakfast.  \Mien  I  sat  down  to  that 
meal  upon  this  particular  morning  I  spent  the 
greater  part  of  the  time  in  reflection. 

My  mouth  was  so  tender  that  the  hot  coffee 
was  unpleasantly  suggestive  of  the  (Chinese 
boiling  oil  torture,  and  what  little  food  I  did 
swallow  went  down  like  chaff.  My  throat  felt 
as  though  it  had  undergone  a  .severe  rasping 
with  a  nutmeg  grater,  and  my  teeth  were  en- 
crusted with  a  rich  deposit  of  the  most  objec- 
tionable constituents  of  twenty  -  four  assorted 
medicines.  But  I  had  already  sold  thirty-two 
bottles  of  those  medicines,  and  I  was  conscious 
of  a  deep  sense  of  thankfulness  in  the  thought 


that   if   they   did   not   do  any  good   they   were 
equally  incapable  of  dtjing  any  harm. 

Later  in  the  day  I  wrote  to  my  agent,  asking 
him  to  prijcure  from  the  druggists  a  list  of  their 
Dutch  medicmes,  together  with  an  English 
translation  of  the  names  and  direc- 
tions printed  upon  each. 

During  the  whole  of  that  lir.-,t 
day  upon  which  I  entered  upon  my 
medical  career  I  suffered  intense 
pain.  The  accumulated  energies 
of  twenty-four  assorted  medicines, 
working  sometmies  together  and 
sometimes  antagonistically  upon 
my  inner  i^ian,  racked  me  from 
head  to  foot.  Yet  I  stuck  to  my 
work  with  what  strength  was  left 
me,  and  when  night  fell  my  stock 
of  medicines  was  decreased  by  one 
liundred  and  twenty-two  bottles. 

I  had  firmly  insisted  on  homrjeo- 
pathic  doses  in  every  case.  Two 
to  five  drops  of  medicine  in  half 
a  pint  of  water  was  what  I  recom- 
mended my  female  patients,  and 
for  the  men  I  prescribed  half  a 
teaspoonful  in  the  same  quantity 
of  water.  It  was  difificult  to  get 
them  to  carry  out  even  these 
simple  instructions ;  the  Kattir 
likes  his  medicine  strong  and 
nasty,  and  the  quantity  of  water  I 
recommended  prevented  it  being 
to  his  taste.  In  most  cases  they 
conformed  to  it,  under  strong 
pressure,  and  out  of  all  my  first  patients  one 
lumdred  and  twenty  appeared  upon  the  follow- 
ing day  to  report  progress. 

The  absence  cf  the  other  two  was  e.xplained 
by  messages  received  during  the  day.  One  of 
them  felt  so  much  better  that  he  had  gone 
ploughing,  and  the  other,  in  his  anxiety  to  get 
well,  had  taken  two  doses  as  prescribed  and 
then  swallowed  the  remainder  of  the  medicine 
neat.  According  to  what  I  could  gather  from 
the  messenger,  at  the  time  of  .sending  off  his 
message  he  was  better,  but  still  very  weak. 

Three  days  passed  by  and  none  of  my  patients 
died.  I,  too,  was  fcelmg  better  and  could  eat 
fairly  well,  although  I  was  as  yet  unable  to  drink 
my  coffee  hot. 

'i'he  e.xcitement  among  the  inhabitants  of  the 
kraal,    caused    by   the   advent    of    the    .-  1 

njedicines,  was  palpalily  dying  away.      It  i 

not  sufficient  for  them  that  no  one  had  died  ; 
what  they  were  hankering  after  was  a  sensational 
cure,  and  I  felt  that,  in  consecjuence  of  the 
majority  of  my  patients  feeling  neither  much 
better  nor  worse,  my  prestige  was  likely  to  suffer 


35^ 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


very   shortly.     I    was    rather    touched    by  their 
want  of  gratitude. 

All  the  while  I  had  doctored  them  gratis  they 
had  recovered  with  a  rapidity  that  was  as 
pleasing  as  it  was  unprofitable,  but  now  they 
had  to  pay  for  their  medicine  they  persisted  in 
remaining  unwell,  and  I  was  almost  beginning 
to  doubt  the  efficacy  of  the  system  upon  which 
I  based  my  prescriptions. 

The  system  came  to  me  quite  by  accident — 
for  want  of  a  better ;  I  called  it  the  "  colour 
system,"  and  had  hoped  it  would  prove  a  huge 
success.  It  was  worked  like  this.  The  twenty- 
four  assorted  medicines  were  of  different  colours. 
They  ranged  in  beauttful  gradations  through  a 
variety  of  shades,  from  the  dark,  reddy-brown 
"  Benaardheitschiflichen  "  up  to  the  colourless 
water-hue  of  the  undisturbed  "  Oogen  Droppels." 

Now,  my  clients  were  also  of  varied  colour- 
ings. They  ranged  in  complexion  from  the 
deepest  stove-black  of  the  pure-bred  negro  up 
to  the  tawny,  stale-pastry  tint  of  the  Hottentot. 
To  the  darkest-complexioned  of  my  customers  I 
gave  the  lightest-coloured  medicines,  to  the 
lighter-skinned  ones  I  gave  remedies  of  darkest 
hue,  and  I  prescribed  from  every  sort  in  my 
stock  with  the  exception  of  "  Benaardheitschifli- 
chen "  and  the  deadly  "  Oogen  Droppels." 

So  far  I  had  had  no  patient  suffering  from  a 
tarry  interior,  so  the  former  had  not  been 
needed  ;  and  the  latter  I  thought  of  introducing 
to  the  Boers  who  occasionally  passed  my  store 
as  a  newly-discovered  poison  for  jackals. 

When  a  week  had  passed  only  thirty-three  of 
my  old  patients  remained  to 
me.  Not  more  than  half  of 
this  gallant  company  would 
buy  any  more  medicine,  and 
they  were  unwilling  to  go  on 
with  the  homoeopathic  doses  ; 
while  the  remainder  lounged 
about  the  store  and  grumbled 
volubly  and  long. 

It  was  just  before  sunset 
one  evening,  and  while  the 
grumblers  were  combining  in 
a  universal  parting  growl,  that 
a  new  patient  arrived.  He 
was  a  robust -looking  Kaffir, 
and  he  came  rushing  into  the 
store  with  an  imjietus  that 
almost  shot  him  over  the 
counter. 

I  was  standing  at  the 
medicine  department  when 
he  arrived,  and  as  soon  as  he 
said  he  had  an  acute  pain 
over  his  heart  I  reached  round 
for  a  bottle  of  a  medium  tint 


— he  was  of  a  medium  complexion  but  before 
I  could  turn  back  again  he  leaned  over  and 
grasped  my  arm. 

"Wait  a    bit,"  he   said,   hoarsely,    in    J  )utch. 
"  The  pain   begins  here  " — patting  his  heart- 
"  and  flies  up  here  " — indicating  his  shoulder. 

I  turned  and  seized  a  bottle  of  a  rather 
lighter  colour. 

"  Wait  a  bit,"  he  said  again.  "  Then  the 
pain  flies  over  here  and  down  here  " — pointing 
over  his  back  down  to  the  calf  of  his  left  leg. 

This  was  getting  interesting.  The  grumblers 
had  ceased  their  complaining  to  gather  round 
and  watch  me  deal  with  this  painful  case.  My 
new  patient  went  on  with  his  recital. 

"Two  days  have  I  suffered,"  he  said,  "and 
though  I  have  drunk  freely  of  the  Kaffir 
medicine,  the  medicine  of  my  people,  yet  am  I 
now  in  greater  pain  than  before." 

I  had  endeavoured  to  raise  a  professional 
sneer  at  the  mention  of  his  Kaffir  medicine,  but 
I  felt  that  it  was  not  a  success  ;  moreover,  the 
grumblers  were  looking  at  me  with  critical  eyes. 
I  felt  it  behoved  me  to  make  a  great  effort,  so 
reaching  forward  I  seized  his  pulse,  and  [julling 
out  my  watch  stared  gravely  at  the  minute  hand. 
The  fact  that  my  watch  had  stopped  made  less 
difference  than  you  might  imagine,  because  his 
wrist  was  so  brawny  I  couldn't  find  his  pulse, 
and  if  I  had  I  shouldn't  have  been  any  wiser. 

After  holding  him  thus  for  what  seemed  like 
a  space  of  twenty  minutes,  I  released  his  wrist 
and  sternly  ordered  him  to  put  out  his  tongue. 
I  knew  not  nmch  more  of  tongues  than   pulses, 


I    Sl\/.IA>    IMS    I'flsK. 


THE    MEDICINE    MAN. 


357 


but  I  am  firmly  convinced  that  Kaffir's  tongue 
was  the  health iest-looknig  specimen  I  ever  saw. 
The  gruml)lers  were  crowding  round  him  now 
and  seemed  considerably  impressed  by  my 
actions. 

I  took  a  sheet  of  note-paper  and  wrote  upon 
it  in  large  characters  "  X  -  i  +  2  =  3."  Then  I 
turned  hastily  round,  and  picking  up  the  first 
bottle  that  came  to  hand  rolled  it  in  the  paper 
and  gravely  presented  it  to  him.  I  recognised 
that  he  was  no  subject  for  the  homoeopathic 
treatment,  so  I  advised  him  to  take  a  spoon- 
ful neat  every  hour,  to  walk  three  times  round 
the  bottle,  holding  the  paper   in   his  left  hand. 


and  I  felt  that  I  should  never  see  him  again, 
unless  some  of  his  relations  should  come  and 
deposit  him  upon  my  stoep,  a  corpse.  That 
night  I  sle|)t  but  ill.  I  was  restless  and  troubled, 
and  every  time  I  dozed  I  was  pursued  by  a 
gigantic  headless  Kaffir,  who  carried  a  huge 
bottle  of  "  Oogen  I  )roppels  "  under  his  left  arm. 
Daylight  and  business  brought  no  return  of 
happiness.  I  trembled  at  every  sound,  and 
when  a  party  of  Kaffir  girls  arrived  with  a  bag  of 
corn  I  thought  it  was  the  corpse  done  up  in  a 
sack. 

Later  in  the  morning,  when  my  nerves  were 
at  iheir  highest  tension  and  the  grumblers  were 


"  I    THOUGHT   (T    WAS    THE   CORl'SE    DONE    L'T    I.S'    A    SACK. 


before  each  dose,  and  to  come  to  me  the  ne.xt 
morning.  Then  I  charged  him  half  a  crown  — 
my  usual  price  was  a  shilling,  but  this  seemed 
an  exceptional  case- -and  bade  him  farewell. 

When  I  think  of  that  evening  a  cold  thrill 
embraces  me  even  now,  for  when  I  had  closed 
the  store,  and  was  looking  through  my  medicine 
stock,  I  discovered  that  a  bottle  of  "  Oogen 
Droppels "  had  disappeared  !  Like  a  flash  it 
dawned  upon  me  that  I  had  picked  up  a  bottle 
haphazard  for  my  last  patient,  and  already  he 
was  j)robably  imbibing  that  terrible  "Oogen 
Droppels  "  at  the  rate  of  one  spoonful  per  hour. 

If  I  had  had  any  idea  where  to  find  him  1 
should  have  dashed  out  and  secured  that  bottle 
by  main  force  ;  but  he  was  a  stranger   to   me. 


gathering  round  me  to  renew  their  daily 
torrent  of  abuse,  something  crawled  wearily 
into  the  store  and  clung  feebly  to  the  counter 
for  support.  It  was  some  time  before  I  dis- 
covered in  this  wreck  any  likeness  to  my 
robust  looking  patient  of  the  night  before,  and 
when  I  did  I  felt  like  a  doomed  man.  I  felt 
that  he  had  come  to  denounce  me  as  an 
impostor,  and  that  henceforth  my  medical  pre- 
tensions would  become  a  byword  and  a  thing 
of  laughter.     Just  then  he  spoke. 

"  I  have  come  for  another  bottle  of  the  white 
man's  medicine,"  he  said,  feebly.  "  I  have 
drunk  of  the  bottle  that  the  Great  One  gave  me 
yesterday,  and,  behold  I  my  pain  is  gone.  Also 
the    medicine   is  very    strong,    so    I    seek   yet 


358 


THE    WIDE     WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


another  bottle  that  the  pain  may  be  frightened 
utterly  away." 

For  a  moment  I  thought  the  "  Oogen 
Droppels"  must  have  touched  his  brain.  Then, 
as  I  saw  how  calm,  though  feeble,  he  looked,  I 
grasped  the  situation.  I  was  loth  to  give  him 
another  bottle  of  that  infernal  mixture,  but  he 
pleaded  so  hard  for  it  that  I  was  obliged  to  let 
him  have  his  way,  only  upon  the  condition, 
though,  that  he 
s  h  o  u  1  d  n  o  t 
take  more  than 
three  spoonfuls  a 
day. 

Before  he  went 
away  the  grum- 
blers crowded 
round  him,  plying 
him  with  ques 
tions.  I  could 
not  understand 
what  he  said,  but 
from  his  gesticu- 
lations he  had 
evidently  found  a 
powerful  remedial 


agent 


m 


]iK  ri.r-.AnFr)  ."^o  iiaru  ton  n. 


Oogen 
Dropi)eIs."  After 
he  had  gone  the 
grumblers  held  a 
consultation  upon 
my  stoep.  Then 
they  returned  in 
a  body  and  de- 
manded a  bottle 
each  of  "  Oogen 
Droppels." 

I  would  not  hear  of  it.  I  knew  that  only 
the  strong  constitution  of  my  last  patient  had 
pulled  him  through  the  "Oogen  Dropfjel  " 
ordeal,  and  I  was  not  minded  to  have  these 
peoi)le's  death  laid  to  my  charge.  I  suggested 
that  it  might  be  as  well  for  them  to  try  a  change 
of  medicines,  and  offered  them  their  choice  of 
any  colour  they  liked  ;  but  they  would  hear  of 
nothing  but  "Oogen  Droppels."  I  turned  them 
bodily  out  of  the  store  and  closed  the  door, 
thinking  they  would  go  home.  When  I  opened 
it  an  hour  later  their  numbers  had  increased 
threefold,  and  some  among  them  had  never 
had  an  ache  or  pain  in  their  lives,  but  they 
were  all  clamouring  for  "  Oogen  Droppels." 

They  filled  the  store  to  overflowing,  pre- 
venting the  ingress  of  any  of  my  regular 
customers,  and  they  crowded  up  to  the  counter 
and  fixed  me  with  eager  eyes  lest  I  should  be 
tempted  to  give  "Oogen  Droppels"  to  one  of 
their  number  and  refuse  it  to  the  rest. 

When    this   had   gone   on   for  an    hour,   and 


their  numbers  were  still  increasing,  I  harangued 
them.  1  said  that  "  Oogen  Droppels "  was  a 
fearful  and  wonderful  medicine  ;  that  it  was 
only  mtended  for  very  special  diseases  -which 
Kaffirs  never  suffered  from — and  that  it  was 
very  uncertain  in  its  action  even  then. 

I  told  them  that  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten  it 
would  prove  fatal  within  the  hour,  and  its 
victims  would  die  a  horrible  death.      \\'hen    I 

paused  for  a 
moment  they  all 
held  out  their 
hands  for  a  bottle 
of  it !  I  implored 
them  to  take  any- 
thing but  that, 
and  I  gave  them 
their  choice  of 
any  colour  that 
took  their  fancy — 
not  even  except- 
ing the  corn-cure 
and  "  Benaard- 
heitschiflichen." 
And  they  unani- 
mously refused. 

As  a  last  hope 
I     said     that 
"Oogen    Drop- 
pels  "  was  a  very 
rare     and    costly 
drug    and    could 
not  be   sold   for   less   than 
five  shillings    a    bottle. 
\\'hereu[)on  those  who  had 
that    sum    i  m  m  e  d  i  a  t  e  1  y 
produced     it     and     those 
who  hadn't  went  home  to  fetch  it. 

I  had  thought  that  the  mention  of  such  an 
exorbitant  price  would  deter  them,  and  ke[)t  it 
back  for  my  last  shot,  ^^'he^  I  found  il  was  a 
useless  subterfuge  I  felt  faint  and  sick.  j]ut 
there  was  nothing  else  to  be  done  now.  I  took 
down  the  bottles  of  "Oogen  Droppels"  one  by 
one  and  handed  them  over  to  the  clamorous  crew 
with  the  air  of  a  convicted  wholesale  jwisoner. 
There  were  two  dozen  bottles  originally,  and  I 
had  only  parted  with  two  before  this,  so  there 
were  now  twenty-two  to  dispose  of. 

There  was  much  squabbling  among  the  crowd 
as  to  who  was  to  have  them  ;  but  I  handed 
them  over  U)  all  such  as  had  the  money,  irrespec- 
tive of  age  or  sex,  and  vvhen  all  the  bottles  were 
gone  those  Kaffirs  that  had  not  obtained  any  of 
the  fateful  preparation  followed  after  those  who 
had  and  worried  them  just  as  they  had  pre- 
viously worried  me.  I  had  another  bad  time  that 
night,  and  cursed  the  idea  that  led  me  to 
imperil    my    legitimate    Inisiness    by    embarking 


TH1-:     MEDICI  XI-:     MAN. 


VSO 


upon     such    a    dangerous    career    as    that    of 
medicine-man  to  a  kraalful  of  fool  Kaffirs. 

The  ne.xt  day  I  began  to  feel  somewhat  better. 
The  morning  had  passed  and  I  had  not  heard 
of  a  single  death  ;  the  afternoon  brought  me  a 
score  of  fresh  inquirers  for  "  Oogen  Droppels," 
and  the  evening  witnessed  the  arrival  of  some 
of  those  patients  who  had  purchased  that  con- 
founded mixture  upon  the  previous  day,  and 
who,  though  looking  much  thinner  and  weaker, 
were  evidently  not  intending  to  expire. 

The  following  day  a  deputation,  consisting  of 
all  those  who  had  purchased  "Oogen  Droppels" 
—and  who,  to  my  surprise,  persisted  in  sur- 
viving— headed  by  the  chief  of  the  kraal,  came 
to  implore  me  to  get  a  fresh  supply  of  "  Oogen 
Droppels  "  at  once. 

The  chief  was  the  spokesman.  He  acknow- 
ledged that  he  had  not  yet  had  the  pleasure  of 
tasting  "  Oogen  Droppels,"'  but  he  was  very 
anxious  to  do  so,  and  he  begged  me,  on  behalf 
of  his  tribe,  to  immediately  procure  enough  to 
satisfy  them  all. 

Now  that  my  fear  of  depopulating  the  entire 
country  was  removed  I  assented,  and  sent  off 
one  of  my  Kaffirs  with  a  telegram  to  my  agent 
to  forward,  as  soon  as  possible,  ten  gross  bottles 
of  "Oogen  Droppels." 

Meanwhile  I  began  to  look  upon  the  subject 
of  ''  Oogen  Droppels  "  in  a  different  light.  From 
wondering  if  it  could  ever  be  of  the  slightest 
efficacy  in  the  simplest  of  ailments,  I  worked 
myself  up  to  a  strong  conviction  that  it  was  a 
sovereign  specific  for  every  ill  that  flesh  is  heir 
to.  Not  only  that,  but  I  began  to  congratulate 
myself  upon  having  discovered  it,  thus  conferring 
a  boon  upon  my  fellow-men  which  would  yield 
me  a  very  substantial  profit ~a  thing  which 
boons  to  fellow-men  are  not  always  in  the  habit 
of  doing. 

^Vhen  my  Kaffir  returned  from  the  post-ofifice, 
bringing  with  him  my  weekly  mail,  I  had  just 
conjured  up  the  vision  of  a  huge  building  full 
of  machinery,  and  large  enough  to  cope  with 
the  demand  of  the  whole  continent  ;  and  upon 
the  front  of  it  was  blazoned  : — 

"The  Oogen  Droppels  Company,  Limited. 
I'Vanklin's  Marvellous  Kaffir  Cure." 

With  this  pleasant  picture  still  strong  in  my 
mind  1  looked  carefully  through  my  letters  until 
my  attention  was  caught  by  a  package  with   the 


Johannesburg  postmark.  It  wa^  Uuui  in 
and  when  I  opened  it  the  first  thing  thai 
my  eye  was  a  typed,  alphabetical  list  of  Dutch 
medicines,  with  the  English  translation  annexed. 
1  smiled  as  I  opened  it  at  its  uselessness  now. 
Henceforth  I  would  stock  nothing  but  "Oogen 
Droppels."  Carelessly  1  turned  its  pages.  It 
came  as  somewhat  of  a  shock  to  find  that  the 
reddy-brown  "  Benaardheitschiflichen  "  was  in- 
tended to  be  u.sed  in  a  highly  diluted  state,  as  a 
lotion  for  the  bites  of  poisonous  reptiles  — but 
there  was  worse  to  follow.  I  turned  over  till  I 
came  to  the  letter  "O."  There  it  was,  the  mar- 
vellous specific,  the  sovereign  cure  all.  This  is 
what  it  said  :  — 

"  Oogen  Droppels,  or  eye  drop.s.  For  ophthal- 
mia, or  any  inflammatory  affection  of  the  eye- 
lids. Three  drops  to  be  dropped  in  the  eyes 
four  times  a  day." 

And  this  was  my  wonderful  remedy  1  This 
was  the  miraculous  medicine  which  was  to 
make  me  famous  !  For  awhile  I  sat  there 
stunned.  Then  a  thought  came  that  made  me 
wince.  If  only  any  white  man  got  hold  of  this 
story  !  If  a  wandering  trader  should  but  happen 
that  way  and  hear  from  the  Kaffirs  of  Franklin's 
marvellous  cure,  and  see  one  of  those  bottles 
with  that  confounded  "  Oogen  Droppels " 
printed  upon  it  in  large  letters !  It  only 
needed  that  to  make  me  a  laughing-stock  from 
Cape  Town  to  the  Zambesi.  And  there  were  ten 
gross  more  of  the  stuff  ordered  I  I  writhed  in 
my  chair.  Then,  suddenly,  a  saving  thought 
came  to  me.  I  shouted  for  my  pony,  locked 
and  barred  the  store,  and  rode  off  to  the 
telegraph  -  office  like  one  possessed.  I  could 
hardly  write  the  words  that  were  burning  into 
my  brain. 

"  Have  you  dispatched  '  Oogen  Droppels ' 
yet  ?  " 

That  was  the  message  I  sent,  and  the  two 
hours  that  I  waited  for  the  answer  were  longer 
than  two  average  human  lives.  At  last  it  came — 
there  was  hope  yet.  I  could  have  hugged  that 
unemotional  agent  of  mine  had  the  distance 
permitted  it. 

"No  waggon  yet;  sending  to-morrow*  "  I'c 
answered. 

Quick  as  thought  I  wired  back  agaui  :  "St-tid 
twenty  gross  '  Oogen  Droppels  "  instead  of  ten, 
and  remove  the  labels  1" 


Paris   to   New  York   Overland. 

THE    NARRATIVE    OF    A    REMARKABLE    EXPEDITION. 

Bv  Harrv  ])I    W'indt,  F. R.G.S. 
III.— VERKHOYANSK     i'O    BEHRINC,    STRAITS. 

We  have  much  pleasure  in  announcing  that  we  have  secured  the  sole  and  exclusive  right  to  publish 
the  only  illustrated  account  of  Mr.  de  Windt's  great  feat  which  will  appear  in  this  country,  the 
reproductions  of  the  Kodak  photographs  taken  during  the  expedition  adding  greatly  to  the  vividness  of 
the  narrative.  As  a  glance  at  a  map  of  the  world  will  show,  the  explorer's  journey  necessitated 
traversing  some  of  the  wildest  and  most  inhospitable  regions  of  the  earth,  where  even  the  elements 
fought  against  the  intrepid  party.  Mr.  de  Windt  essayed  the  journey  once  before,  but  on  that  occasion 
the  expedition  came  to  grief  on  the  ice-bound  shores  of  Behring  Sea,  and  the  author  barely  escaped 
with  his  life  from  the  hands  of  the  savage  natives.  This  time  complete  success  has  crowned 
the  venture ;  but  the  adventures  met  with,  and  the  unheard-of  privations  endured  by  the  party 
form    a    unique    record    of    human    endurance    and    dogged   pluck. 


I'RKHOYANSK  is  called  by  loyal 
Russians  the  heart  of  Siberia. 
Political  e.xiles  have  another  name 
for  it,  which  would  give  it  a 
distinctly  warmer  climate  than  it 
now  possesses;  this  I  will  leave  to  the  reader's 
imagination.  And,  indeed,  life  here  must  be 
intolerably  dreary  for  those  who  have  been  used 
to  a  life  of  mental  activity  in  a  civilized  world. 
Two  exiles  had  lately  committed  suicide  in  the 
space  of  eighteen  months,  driven  to  self- 
destruction  by  the  hopeless  monotony  of 
existence,  and  the  rest  complained  bitterly  of 
the  miserable  pittance  allowed  for  their 
maintenance.  On  the  banishment  of  a  political 
offender  his  property  is  confiscated  to  the 
uttermost  farthing  by  the  Russian  Govern- 
ment and  he  receives  a  monthly  allowance, 
the  sum  varying  in  certain  districts.  As 
already  stated,  at  Verkhoyansk  it  is  seventeen 
roubles  (or  about  thirty-four  shillings)  a  month, 
and,  if  a  wife  voluntarily  shares  her  husband's 
exile,  one  rouble  is  munificently  added  by  a 
paternal  Government  for  hex  subsistence.  As 
provisions  here  are  nearly  always  at  famine 
prices,  tea  and  sugar  are  unattainable  luxuries, 
and  candles  are  so  dear  that  throughout  the 
long,  dreary  winter  the  exile  must  be  content 
with  the  dim  light  shed  by  flickering  logs. 
l)Ut  an  amiable  chief  of  police  and  a  good 
library  atone  for  many  evils,  and  compared  to 
Sredni-Kolymsk  (twelve  hundred  miles  farther 
north,  near  the  shores  of  the  Arctic  Ocean), 
\'erkhoyansk  is  a  terrestrial  paradise. 

We   left   here  on  the   bright,   sunlit  morning 
of   the   2nd    March,  our    departure    being   wit- 
Copyright,  1905,  by 


ne-ssed  by  our  good  friend  Katcheroffski  and 
all  the  exiles.  My  small  supply  of  reading 
matter  comprised  a  "  Daily  Alail  Year  Book" 
and  although  very  loth  to  part  with  this  I  had 
not  the  heart  to  take  it  away  from  a  young  exile 
who  had  become  engrossed  in  its  contents. 
Tor  it  contained  many  matters  of  interest  which 
are  usually  blacked  out  by  the  censor.  "  I  shall 
learn  it  all  off,  Mr.  de  Windt,"  .said  the  poor 
fellow,  gratefully,  as  the  chief  of  police  for  a 
moment  looked  away  and  I  handed  him  the  tiny 
encyclopaedia ;  "  when  we  meet  again  I  shall 
know  it  all  by  heart."  But  twelve  long  years 
must  elapse  before  my  poor  friend  bids  farewell 
to  Verkhoyansk. 

Picture  the  distance  from,  say,  London  to 
St.  Petersburg  as  one  unending  level,  snowy 
plateau,  and  you  have  the  region  we  now  crossed 
before  you.  The  distance  may  seem  trifling  to  the 
railway  passenger,  but  it  becomes  a  very  different 
proposition  with  intense  cold,  deep  snow,  scanty 
shelter,  and  sick  reindeer  to  contend  against. 
For  the  first  seven  or  eight  huiulrcd  miles  we 
I)asscd  through  dense  forests,  which  gradually 
dwindled  down  to  sparse  and  stunted  shrubs  until 
the  tree-line  was  reached  and  vegetation  finally 
disappeared.  So  few  travellers  enter  this 
gloomy  region  that  there  is  no  attemi^t  at  a 
track  of  any  kind,  and  we  steered  by  compass 
and  the  stars.  The  so-called  rest-houses  were 
now  two  hundred  miles  and  more  apart,  and  we 
generally  left  one  with  a  very  vague  notion  as  to 
when  we  should  see  the  next.  The  first  one 
arrived  at— Aditscha — was  filthier  than  any  we 
had  passed  on  the  way  up  from  Yakutsk,  and, 
as  usual,  the  only  food  [)rocurable  was  tainted 

George  Newne^,  Limited. 


I'AKis    ro    Ni:\v   voKK    {)\i:ki.ani). 


i6i 


fisli  and  deer-meat,  for  tlie  epicurean  Vakute 
will  not  look  at  either  until  they  are  partly 
decomposed.  So  we  were  compelled  to  sultsist 
on  "Carnyl,"  a  kind  of  palatable  pemmican 
brought  from  England  and  intended  for  use  in 


Needless  to  say  it  swarmed  with  vermin,  and  so 
did  we  after  a  night  passed  here,  to  such  .ui 
extent  as  to  cause  actual  pain  whenever  we  left 
the  outer  cold  for  a  warmer  temperature. 
Oddly  enough,   the    rest-houses   seemed  to    be 


provi  a\ 


A    WAYSinE    POST-HOLSE    BETWEEN    VERKHOYANSK    AND   SREDNI-KOLVMSK. 


[Kodak  Photo. 


the  Arctic.  We  afterwards  nearly  perished 
from  starvation  in  consequence  of  this  pre- 
mature indulgence  in  our  "  emergency  rations." 

The  greatest  cold  ex[)erienced  during  the 
entire  journey  was  at  xVditscha,  where  the  tem- 
perature sank  to  seventy-eight  degrees  below- 
zero.  But  the  heat 
and  stench  of  the 
rest-house  produced 
such  faintness  and 
nausea  that  more 
than  once  during 
the  night  I  put  on 
my  furs  and  braved 
the  outer  cold.  It 
was  so  great  that  in 
a  few  seconds  a 
mask  of  ice  was 
formed  over  the  lips 
by  breath  congealed 
on  the  moustache. 
This  discomfort  be- 
came so  incessant 
that  on  leaving 
Aditscha  we  dis- 
pensed with  these 
hirsute  adornments. 

The  Aditscha  rest  -  house  was,  as  usual, 
crowded  with  natives  of  habits  as  disgusting  as 
their  filthy  exterior.  A  couple  of  cows  and  some 
calves  also  occupied  the  foul,  dark  den,  with 
its    slippery    mud    floor    and    windows    of    ice. 

Vol.  X.  -46. 


THK   ONI.V    SION    UK    I.IKE    liKTWKKN'    VKK 

/■rom  a]  A  UEAU  ek.mi.sk  cau 


always  crowded  with  people,  although  outside 
them  we  never  encountered  a  solitary  human 
being  all  the  way  from  Verkhoyansk  to  Sredni- 
Kolymsk.  Nor  did  we  see  a  single  animal  or 
bird,  with  the  exception  of  a  dead  ermine  which 
had    been    caught    in    a    trap,    and    which    our 

Vakutes,  with  char- 
acteristic greed, 
promptly  took  from 
the  snare  and  poc- 
keted. 

As  we  neared  the 
tree-line  storms  were 
encountered,  which 
increased  in  fre- 
ijuency  and  violence 
until,  approaching 
the  Arctic,  they 
occurred  almost 
daily  as  furious  bliz- 
zards. On  such 
occasions  we  laid-to, 
for  it  was  impossible 
to  stand  up,  much 
less  make  headway 
against  the  wind 
and  driving  snow. 
The  latter  did  nut  fall,  as  a  rule,  but  was  whirled 
up  from  the  ground  in  dense  clouds,  and  durmg 
the  lulls  an  occasional  glimpse  of  blue  sky  and 
cloudless  sunshine  had  a  strange  efTect.  Fortu- 
nately for  the  traveller  in  these  desolate  wastes, 


KHUYANSK    AMI   .SKKHM-K01  VMSK  — 


362 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


THE    INTERIOR    OF    A 

From  a] 


■  I'OVARNIA     — 


IN    I'OIN'T   OF   COMFORT   THEY 
COWSHEDS." 


uninhabited  sheds  called  "  povarnias  "  are  placed 
at  intervals  of  fifty  miles  or  so  between  the  rest- 
houses,  and  we  sheltered  in  these,  when  possible, 
during  dirty  weather.  In  point  of  comfort  a 
"povarnia"  resembles  an  English  cow-shed.  They 
were  icy  cold  and  generally  half  full  of  snow  which 
had  drifted  through  apertures  in  their  wooden 
walLs,  while  the  ceiling  was  usually  so  low  that 
we  crawled  about  on  all  fours.  The  worst 
"povarnia"  we  occupied  was  called  Sissana,  or 
"  the  hundred  doors,"  by  reason  of  its  draughty 
proclivities.  And  yet,  cold  and  miserable  as 
these  places  were,  we  often  crept  into  them 
out  of  storms  with  as  much  relief  and  gratitude 
as  though  they  had  been  palatial  hotels  in 
London  or  New  York. 

I  was  somewhat  prepared  for  the  terrible 
percentage  of  insane  persons  which  I  afterwards 
found  amongst  the  exiles  at  Sredni-Kolymsk  by 
the  large  number  of  Yakutes  of  feeble  intellect 
whom  we  encountered  at  the  rest-houses.  In 
nearly  every  one  we  met  with  one  or  more 
unmistakable  lunatics,  and  it  afterwards  struck 
me  that,  in  a  land  where  even  the  natives  go 
mad  from  sheer  despondency  of  life,  it  is  no 
wonder  that  men  and  women  of  culture  and 
refinement  are  driven  to  suicide  from  constant 
fear  of  insanity.  Idiotcy  is  more  frequent  amongst 
the  natives,  and  in  one  "  povarnia  "  we  found  a 
poor,  half-witted  wretch  who  had  taken  up  his 
quarters  there,  driven  away  from  the  nearest 
rest-house  by  the  cruelty  of  its  inmates.  He 
had  laid  in  a  store  of  i)utrid  fish  and  seemed 
([uile  resigned  to  his  surroundings,  Init  we 
I)ersuaded  him  to  return  to  his  home  with  us. 
This  was  an  exceptional  case,  for  the  Yakutes 
are  generally  kind  and  indulgent  towards 
mental  sufferers.  The  kindness  arises  to  a  certain 


extent  from  fear,  for  m  these 
parts  mad  people  are  credited 
witli  occult  powers  which  are 
said  to  enable  them  to  take 
summary  vengeance  on  their 
enemies. 

Notwithstanding  the  gloomy 
predictions  of  Katcheroffski 
we  reached  Sredni-Kolymsk 
\n  less  than  three  weeks.  This 
was  chiefly  due  to  the  untiring 
energy  of  our  Cossack,  Stepan, 
who  now  and  on  many  sub- 
sequent occasions  proved  an 
invaluable  ally.  Stei)an  was 
well  _  acquainted  with  this 
country,  his  duty  being  to 
convey  political  exiles  from 
Yakutsk  to  the  Arctic  settle- 
ments. The  journey,  made 
under  these  circumstances, 
usually  takes  a  year  from  St.  Petersburg,  for 
the  Russian  Cjovernment  does  not  waste  money 


RESEMBLE    ENCI.ISH 

\Kod,ik  Photo. 


I'  ro»i   n  I 


1_  -INSANITY    IS   TERRIULY    I'REVAI.KNT  AMONG 
THESE  NATIVES.  [Kodak  I'ltoto. 


PARIS    K)    NICW      \()KK     OVI-IKLAND. 


36: 


on  liavclling  ex- 
penses for  the 
benefit  of  "  poli- 
ticals." In  the 
case  of  young 
and  delicate 
women  the  hard- 
ships  of  this 
stupendous  voy- 
age can  scarcely 
be  over  -  rated. 
A  lady  political 
never  travels 
alone,  but  is 
always  accom 
panied  by  a 
fellow  -  exile  of 
her  own  sex. 

In  appearance 
Sredni-Kolymsk 
is  something  like 
Verk  hoyap.sk, 
but  smaller, 
while  its  wooden 

huts  are  so  low  in  stature  that  the  place  is 
entirely  concealed  a  short  distance  away  by  the 
stunted  trees  around  it  Only  the  tottering 
spire  of  an  old  wooden  cliapel  is  visible,  and 
this  only  overto^JS  the  neighbouring  buildings  by 


THE    COSSACKS   WHO    K:i_l. 

from  a\ 


:i     ;iii-;    I'lii.i  I  iCAi. 

ACCOMPANIED   THE 


■-  .  •  icel  at 
mosL  1  thought 
the  acme  of 
desolation  had 
been  reached  at 
\'erkhoyansk, 
but  to  drive  into 
this  place  was 
like  entering  a 
cemetery.  We 
arrived  on  a 
bright,  sunlit 
morning,  but  the 
sight  of  those 
squalid  huts, 
knowing,  as  we 
did,  the  u  n- 
speakable  misery 
they  contained, 
seemed  to 
darken  the  face 
of  Nature  like  a 
coffin  borne  by 
mistake  into  a 
brilliant  ball-room.  Imagine  an  avenue  of  dilapi- 
dated mud-hovels,  surrounded  by  more  hovels 
scattered  haphazard  over  an  area  of  perhaps  half 
a  mile.  All  around  a  desolate  plain  of  snow 
fringed  by  gloomy  pine-forests  and  bisected  by 


Exn.KS— ON   ': 

EXPEDITION. 


111.    LI::hT    IS     SI  1.1  AN,    V.  . 

[  Kodak  I'holo. 


'^. 


i 


From  a\ 


A   GENEKAI.    VIKW   OK   SREDNI-KOI.VMSK. 


irt  Kii^J*   •    K^ij. 


564 


THE    WIDE    WOREI)    MAGAZINE. 


ihc  irozcn  Kolyma  River  —  and  over  all  the 
silence  of  the  grave.  Such  is  Sredni-Kolymsk 
as  it  appeared  to  me,  even  in  that  glorious 
sunshine,  the  most  cheerless,  hopeless,  God- 
forsaken-looking place  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 

Space  will  not  admit  of  a  description  of 
the  political  exiles  I  found  here  who  had  seen 
no  stranger  from  the  outer  world  for  over 
thirty  years,*  but  I  may  say  that  of  the  fourteen 


years,  and  from  Moscow  to  the  Island  of  Sak- 
halin I  have  generally  found  them  humanely 
conducted.  I  cannot  therefore  believe  that  the 
appalling  state  of  affairs  here  is  known  in  St. 
Petersburg,  for  there  is  only  m  winter  one  mail 
to  the  capital,  and  m  summer  no  postal  service 
at  all.  As  I  have  said,  exiles  take  a  year  and 
more  to  reach  this  place  after  indescrib- 
able   sufferings,    and    once    here    30    per    cent. 


From  a\ 


THK    MAIN    STREET   OF    SREDNI-KOLY.MSK. 


\K,niak  ri, 


exiles  here  only  two  were  guilty  of  actual  crime 
These  were  Madame  Akimova,  convicted  of  an 
attempt  to  assassinate  the  present  Emperor  at 
his  Coronation,  and  Zimmerman,  who  destroyed 
the  Lodz  Government  factories  by  dynamite  a 
few  years  ago.  Both  were  sentenced  to  death, 
and  respited — a  doubtful  mercy,  seeing  that 
they  were  afterwards  banished  for  life  to 
Sredni-Kolymsk.  With  these  two  exceptions 
the  exiles  were  absolutely  innocent  of  active 
participation  in  the  revolutionary  movement, 
and  would  probably  have  been  regarded 
as  peaceable  citizens  in  any  country  but  their 
own.  I  met  men  and  women  here  who  are 
branded  in  Russia  as  dishonoured  outcasts,  but 
whose  friendship  and  esteem  I  shall  always 
recall  with  sincere  satisfaction.  I  have  up  till 
now  defended  the  Russian  penal  system  against 
attacks,  which  I  have  found,  by  personal  inspec- 
tion, to  be  unjustified.  My  experience  of 
Siberian  prisons  extends  over  a  period  of  ten 

*  Mr.  De  Windt's  full  account  of  Sredni-Kolymsk  and  ils 
political  exiles  appeared  in  the  Christinas  number  of 'riii-;  Sikand 
Magazine.— El>. 


become  insane  from  the  silence  and  solitude, 
and  from  the  fact  that  they  never  know, 
towards  the  end  of  their  term  of  exile, 
whether  it  will  not  be  indefinitely  prolonged. 
A  doctor  here,  himself  an  exile,  told  me  that 
nearly  every  woman  over  thirty  years  of  age  in 
the  settlement  was  suffering  from  a  hysterical 
form  of  insanity  more  dreaded  than  death. 
Within  two  years  there  have  been  four  cases  of 
suicide  in  a  colony  of  twenty  exiles.  The 
Government  allowance  of  eighteen  roubles  (or 
about  thirty-six  shillings)  a  month  is  so  absurdly 
inadequate  that  most  of  these  unhappy  people 
were  living  in  huts  abandoned  even  by  the 
filthy  Vakutes,  ami  subsisting  in  winter  on 
putrid  fish.  Being  unable  to  purchase  warm 
clothing,  they  suffered  agonies  from  the  fero- 
c:ious  cold  for  nine  months  out  of  the  twelve. 
Sredni  -  Kolymsk  is  notoriously  unhealthy, 
but  no  provision  whatever  was  made  for 
the  sick.  Only  a  few  weeks  before  my 
arrival  a  young  l^olish  exile  blew  out  his  brains 
after  being  flogged  by  the  chief  of  police,  who 
was  himself  shot  dead  the  next  day  by  another 


I'AkIS     TO    Ni:\V     VORR    OXI'.RI.AM). 


-/,; 


exile,  a  friend  ot  the  dead  man.  As  an  ofhcial 
here  owned  thai  these  tragedies  occasionally 
occur,  I  assume  that  they  are  not  uncommon. 
In  short,  ten   days   here  convinced  me  that  this 


were  political  exiles,  and  a  >■  m.    ohi'  i.  i 

a  chief  of  [)olice.     The  remainder  (•  ■  of 

Cossacks,  criminal  coloni-ts,  and  Yakules.    'I"he 
lirst-named  are  employed- as   guards,  but    this 


From  a\ 


THE   TUMliI.E-DOWN    CHURCH    AT   SREDNl-KOL  VMSK . 


\Ko(iak  riioto. 


accursed  spot  should  be  wiped  off  the  face  of 
civilization,  and  I  live  in  hopes  that  these  lines 
may  meet  the  eye  of  the  one  being  on  earth 
who  has  the  power  to  bring  this  about.  And 
I  may  add  that  in   his  clemency,  and  his  alone, 


precaution  is  quite  unnecessary,  tor  starvation 
would  be  the  inevitable  result  of  an  attempt  to 
escape.  A  criminal  colonist  is  allotted  a  grant 
of  land  by  the  Government  after  a  term  of  penal 
servitude,   and   I   have    never    beheld,    even  in 


d 


]•  lOlll  til 


WW.  WKiciciiiiu  HU  r.s  oi-    1  III-;  '•  loi.i  ric.M.s. 


every  miserable  outlaw  in  this  Arctic  "inferno" 
has  im])Iicit  faith. 

Sredni-Rolymsk   has   a   po[)ulation   of  about 
three   hundred   souls,    of   whom   only    thirteen 


Sakhalin,  such  a  band  of  murderous  cut  throats 
as  were  assembled  here.  They  were  a  constant 
terror  to  the  poor  Vnkute  villagers,  and  even 
officials  rarely  ventured  out  of  doors  after  dark. 


366 


Till'     WIDE    WORLD     MAC'.AZINE. 


These  officials,  by  the 
way,  seem  no  better  off 
than  the  exiles  as  re- 
gards the  unutterable 
dreariness  of  daily  exist- 
ence, although  large 
salaries  (for  Russia)  pro- 
vided them  with  warm 
dwellings,  good  food, 
wine,  and  other  comforts 
which  alone  can  render 
such  a  place  as  this  in- 
habitable. Nearly  all  the 
information  anent  politi- 
cals in  this  article  was 
obtained  from  "  em- 
ployes "  in  the  police- 
office,  and  may  therefore 
be  regarded  as  unexag- 
gerated  and  correct.  A 
clerk  in  the  office  told 
me  that  a  prominent 
symptom  of  the  hysterical 
mania  I  have  mentioned 
was  the  tendency  to 
mimic     the    voice     and 

actions  of  others,  and  this  fact  I  personally 
verified.  While  walking  in  the  street  one  day 
my  arm  was  seized  by  an  old  Russian  woman, 
who  repeated,  with 
weird  accuracy,  a 
sentence  in  French 
which  I  was  address- 
ing to  my  compan- 
ion, the  Vicomte  de 
Clinchamp.  The 
accent  was  perfect, 
although  the  speaker 
had  never  been 
nearer  France  than 
the  city  of  Yakutsk. 

At  Sredni-Kolymsk 
my  difficulties  cul- 
minated, and  I 
nearly  gave  up  the 
voyage  in  despair. 
For  a  famine  was 
raging,  our  own  pro- 
visions were  practi- 
cilly  exhausted,  and 
a  journey  of  two 
months  through  a 
desert  of  ice  lay 
before  us.  I  )ogs 
would  now  be  our 
mode  of  transport, 
but  they  were  very 
scarce.  And,  lastly, 
the   Tchuktchis,    on 


AN      OLD       UUSSIAN       WOMAN    —    Si]E      SL 1- 1  tRl'.l)       I'KO.M       THK 
HVSTF.KICAI.      FORM      OF     MADNESS      PREVALENT     AMONC.      THE 

From  a]  female  fa'iles.  \,Kodak  Photo. 


I'roir.  a\ 


iialf-urkei)  yakute  women 


whom  I  iiad  relied  for 
food,  lodging,  and 
guidance,  had  retreated 
eastwards  along  the  coast 
until  their  nearest  settle- 
ment was  nearly  six  hun- 
dred miles  distant — six 
hundred  miles  of  Arctic 
desolation,  without  food 
or  shelter  of  any  kind  ! 
'Ihe  Russians  here  at  first 
flatly  refused  to  accom- 
pany us  as  drivers,  even 
as  far  as  Tchaun  Bay, 
barely  a  third  of  the 
distance,  where  I  hoped 
to  i)rocure  means  of  travel 
at  the  first  'i'chuktchi 
settlement.  It  was  not 
encouraging  to  hear  that 
the  last  traveller  who  had 
attempted  to  reach  this 
place  five  years  ago  lost 
his  way  and  perished  of 
starvation.  Besides  this, 
all  Sredni-Kolymsk 
people  have  a  wild  and  unreasoning  fear  of  the 
Tchuktchis,  whom  they  regard  as  bandits  and 
murderers,  although  few  of  them  had  ever  even 

seen  one.  But  at 
last,  after  endless 
difficulty  and  the 
consumption  of 
much  vodka,  five 
sleds  were  got  to- 
gether, with  a  driver 
and  twelve  dogs  to 
each,  and  we  set  out 
for  Behring  Straits 
about  as  suitably 
e (] u  i  [1  p e d  for  an 
Arctic  expedition  as 
a  man  who,  in  Kng- 
IcUid,  goes  out  duck- 
shooting  at  Christ- 
mas lime  in  a  suit  of 
silk  pyjamas.  For 
the  t)nly  provisions 
that  I  could  pur- 
chase at  Sre(lni- 
K  ol  y  m  s  k  would 
barely  last  three 
weeks,  by  which 
time  I  hoped  to 
reach  the  first 
Tchuktchi  settle- 
ment. If  not,  starva- 
tion seemed  unplea- 
\Kodak  Photo.  '      sanlly     probable,    or 


PARIS     10    NKW    YORK    ( )\  ICRI.AND. 


367 


perhaps  dc.ith  from  exposure,  fur  our  only  slielter 
was  a  thin  canvas  tent.  Our  oil  was  exhausted 
antl  no  mure  was  procurable,  so  that  artificial 
heat  that  essential  of  Arctic  travel  would 
have  to  be  entirely  derived  from  the  drift-wuod 
only  occasionally  found  on  the  shores  of  the 
Polar  Sea. 

Leaving  Sredni-Kolynisk  our  way  lay  along 
the  frozen  Kolyma  River  for  about  three 
hundred  miles  to  Nijni-Kolymsk,  an  almost 
deserted  collection  of 
log-huts  surrounding  a 
little  wooden  chapel,  now 
in  ruins.  The  journey 
down  river  was  not  un- 
pleasant, for  we  generally 
passed  the  night  in  the 
hut  of  some  trapper  or 
fisherman,  who  regaled 
us  with  tea  and  frozen 
fish.  It  took  us  five 
days  to  reach  Nijni- 
Kolymsk,  for  our  miser- 
able, half-starved  dogs 
travelled  so  slowly  that 
my  heart  sank  at  the 
thought  of  the  distance 
of  our  go£.l  from  the 
Kolyma  River.  During 
tho^e  anxious  days 
America  seemed  almost 
as  unattainable  as  the 
North  Pole  itself. 

Nijni  -  Kolymsk  con- 
tained about  forty  or  fifty 
souls  and  perhaps  as 
many  gaunt  and  hungry 
dogs,  for  both  men  and 
animals  were  suffering 
severely  from  the 
effects  of  the  famine.  I 
doubt  whether  half 
the     human     population 

survived  that  winter.  Another  tedious  delay 
occurred  here  owing  to  our  drivers  striking  for 
higher  wages,  but  the  dispute  was  settled  by  a 
Polish   exile,  who,   oddly  enough,  also   fulfilled 


A      LADV     IN     SIBERIAN      WINTER 
From  a]  REVOLVER  IN 


the  duties  of  chief  of  pi/..>  v_  .  -, 

work    was    not    onerous,     for    1  J 

only  one  other  political,  one  Jacob  Vartseff, 
exiled      for      life     for     smuggling     riP  > 

Russia    across    the   Austrian    frontier.       ,  li 

was  a  kind  of  Russian  Mark  Tapley,  whose 
resigned  cheerfulness  under  miserable  ( undi- 
tions  excited  my  admiration.  Jacob  had  friends 
Ml  New  York  and  desired  that  they  might  be 
informed    of    his    existence,    a   commission    I 

afterwards  faithfully  ful- 
filled. I  encountered 
\'artsefr  on  one  occasion 
holding  a  fro/en  fish, 
which  he  pathetically 
informed  me  was  his 
"  menu  '  for  the  next 
ten  days  ! 

Leaving  Nijni-Kolymsk 
we  again  proceeded  along 
the  frozen  river  for  an- 
other hundred  and  fifty 
miles  to  its  mouth.  Here 
is  a  tiny  settlement  called 
Sukharno,  the  very  last 
out()ost  of  the  Czar.  It 
consisted  of  a  single  hut, 
so  buried  by  storms  that 
we  had  to  crawl  into  it 
through  a  tunnel  of  snow. 
The  occupant  was  an 
aged  Cossack,  who  lived 
amid  surroundings  that 
would  have  repelled  a 
well  educated  pig  ;  but 
we  often  recalled  even 
this  dark  and  fa-tid 
den  as  a  nest  of  luxury 
in  the  gloomy  days  to 
come.  A  furious  bliz- 
zard detained  us  here  for 
three  days  before  we 
could  again  set  out. 
.\i)d  while  it  was  yet  in  sight  I  often  glanced 
back  for  a  last  look  at  that  lonely,  sno"  <\ 

hut.     For  it  was  our  last  link  witli  -  1 

— indeed,  with  humanit^' 


COSTUME  —  SHE     CAICKIES      A 
HER    llEl.r.  [f'iioto. 


(To  be  continued.) 


Entombed    in   a  Well. 

I!v  A.   M.   Mama. 

A  terrible  experience  which  befell  a  young  well-sinker  in  Canada.  While  working  at  the  bottom  of  a 
deep  shaft  he  was  buried  by  a  sudden  fall  of  earth.  Rescuers  set  to  work  to  dig  him  out,  only  to  be 
driven  back  by  another  subsidence  when  quite  close  to  their  unfortunate  comrade.  All  hope  of  saving 
him  had  been  abandoned  when  sounds  were  heard  from  a  pipe  leading  down  into  the  well,  and  again 
an  attempt  was  made  to  reach  the  entombed  man.  At  the  risk  of  their  lives  the  rescue  party  dug 
tunnels    and    made   cuttings    until    at   last,    after   nearly    five    days"    imprisonment,    the    poor   fellow  was 

brought  safely  to  the  surface. 


Ig 


OT  often  in  the  world's  hi.story  has  a 
man  been  buried  in  a  well  for  more 
than  four  days,  with  great  masses  of 
earth  and  bricks  above  his  head,  and 
yet  come  out  alive.  Such,  however, 
was  the  strange  experience  that  befell  a  man 
named  Joshua  Sandford,  while  at  work  in  a  well 
situated  on  a  farm  near  the  town  of  Paris,  in  the 
Province  of  Ontario,  Canada. 

The  Skeiley  farm  on  the  St.    George  Road, 
about  three  miles  from  Paris,  was  the  scene  of 
the  accident  which  so  nearly  proved  a  tragedy. 
On  Tuesday,  the  24th  of  June,   1902,  Sandford 
and  several  other  men  were  engaged  in  deepen- 
ing a  Well  on  the  farm.     Tlie  well  was  bricked 
at  the  sides,  and  was  dry.     Sandford  was  at  the 
very  bottom  of   the  well.      At  two  o'clock   in 
the    afternoon    the    men    above    noticed    that 
the  sides  of   the  well  lower  down  were  com- 
mencing to  cave  in.      It  is 
hardly  necessary  to  say  that 
they  lost   no  time   in  gettin 
to  the  surface  of  the  ground 
Arrived  there  they  at  once 
commenced  to  haul  up  Sand- 
ford,  and   would    have  suc- 
ceeded in  this  but  for  the  fact 
that,  when  their  comrade  was 
only  half-way  up,  the   earth 
near  the  top  also  began  to 
cave  in,  and  with  a  rush  a 
great  mass  of  it  descended 
uf)on  their  unfortunate  com- 
panion, com[)letely    burying 
him. 

It  dill  not  lake  long  for  a 
crowd  to  gather,  all  discuss- 
ing the  terrible  fate  which 
had  befallen  the  young  well- 
sinker.  Suddenly,  however, 
a  rapping  was  heard  on  an 
iron  pipe  that  descended  into 
the  well,  and  those  above  at 

once  came  to  the  conclusion        ''""'"'''kXmuku  VoI'''n 
that  the  falling  earth  had  in  hrom  a  riioto. 


some  way  formed  an  arch  above  Sandford,  while 
the  earth  which  had  caved  in  lower  down  had 
filled  up  the  well  below  him,  thus  preventing 
him  from  being  crushed  to  death. 

At  the  top  of  the  well  there  was  an  opening  in 
the  pipe  where  four  and  five  inch  tubes  joined, 
and  through  a  crevice  Dr.  Patterson,  of  Paris, 
was  able  with  ditificulty  to  communicate  with  the 
entombed  man  below.  Sandford  was  not  able  to 
reply  in  the  same  way,  although  for  some  time  a 
certain  amount  of  air  reached  him  by  means  of 
this  pipe — a  supply  augmented  by  pumping  air 
down. 

A  system  of  signalling,  however,  was  arranged, 
in  accordance  with  which  Sandford  would  ta|) 
on  the  pipe  a  certain  number  of  times  in  response 
to  (juestions  asked.  In  this  way  it  was  dis- 
covered that  he  was  well,  had  some  few  leet  of 
space  around  him,  and  was  prepared  to  hold 
out  for  a  day,  if  such  a  length 
of  time  were  necessary  to 
effect  his  rescue. 

The  first  plan  adopted  for 
getting  Sandford  out  was  by 
digging  away  the  earth  above 
him,  but  (jity  Engineer  Jones, 
of  Pirantford,  arriving  on  the 
scene,  soon  persuaded  the 
rescuers  to  desist  from  this, 
as  being  unwise  and  in  the 
highest  degree  dangerous. 
The  "bridge"  above  the  im- 
prisoned man,  he  pointed 
out,  was  no  doubt  caused 
by  the  weight  of  earth  and 
bricks  resting  on  the  side  of 
the  well.  If  this  pressure 
were  interfered  with,  the 
whole  moss  of  earth  would 
in  all  probability  collapse. 

Tlie    idea     of    tunnelling 
into    the     well,    which     was 
thought  of,  had  to  be  aban- 
doned, as  several  days  would 
(•y  Cocidmrn.  have  bccn  required  for  this 


WKI.I.-SINKEK,    WHlJ    WAS 
liAKI.V    FIVK    DAYS. 


eni'()Mi;li)    in    a    wi.i.i.. 


'/") 


I'lOii!  a\ 


]  111-.    SCENE    AT    THE   TOP   OF    THE    WEI.I.-Sir  A  I-  1    AllKK     1  H 1'.    ACCriil-.NI 


operation.  The  plan  finally  adopted  was  the 
digging  of  a  new  well  or  shaft  about  six  feet 
from  the  old  one,  and  this  was  accordingly  sunk 
to  a  depth,  in  the  first  place,  of  about  forty- 
three  feet,  the  men  working  like  Trojans.  To 
reach  Sandford  it  would,  of  course,  be  neces- 
sary to  tunnel  from  the  new  well  into  the  old 
one,  and  here  a  very  formidable  difficulty  pre- 
sented itself.  To  tunnel  into  the  old  well  above 
Sandford  might  mean  instant  death  to  him,  for 
in  this  way  the  superincumbent  mass  would  be 
released.  To  tunnel  below  him  would  also  give 
rise  to  great  danger  :  it  was  necessary  to  make 
an  opening  into  the  well  just  at  the  very  spot 
where  Sandford  was.  He  was  asked — by  way 
of  the  tube — if  he  could  hear  the  men  at  work, 
and  replied  that  he  could. 

When  the  workers  had  reached  the  depth  men- 
tioned above  they  were  afraid  that  tliey  were 
not  yet  low  enough,  but  Sandford  again  and 
again  affirmed  that  tliey  were.  Finally,  after 
considerable  consultation,  it  was  decided  to  i)ro- 
ceed  with  the  tunnelling,  and  carpenters  set  to 
v;ork  to  erect  supports  in  the  new  well,  so  as  to 
diminish  the  peril  run  by  the  rescue  party.  That 
this  peril  was  a  very  real  one  was  soon  apparent. 
Suddenly  a  loud  crash  was  heard,  the  timbers 
cracked  and  appeared  to  be  giving  way,  and  the 
men  below  were  hastily  drawn  up  to  the  surface. 
The  cause  of  the  disaster  was  soon  explained — ■ 
the  earth  above  Sandford  had  settled  !     Again 

Vol.  X.-47. 


and  again  the  rescuers  tapped  on  the  jjipc  llicir 
only  means  of  communication  with  the  entombed 
man — but  no  response  was  heard,  and  poor 
Sandford's  fate  was  now  considered  sealed. 
With  heavy  hearts  the  little  band  of  men,  who 
had  worked  so  heroically  to  save  a  comrade's 
life,  gathered  up  their  tools  and  dispersed. 

It  was  at  about  1 1.20  a.m.  on  the  'l"hur.sday — 
two  days  after  the  first  subsidence- that  this 
second  cave-in  occurred,  and  during  the  after- 
noon the  unfortunate  man's  father,  quite  by 
accident,  came  to  the  farm  to  see  his  son,  having 
heard  nothing  of  the  caving-in  of  the  well  and 
the  entombment  of  his  son.  He  was  naturally 
quite  overcome  by  the  sad  news,  but  was 
persuaded  to  return  to  his  home  in  Ciall,  being 
assured  that  everything  possible  would  be  done 
to  save  his  boy. 

After  all  work  had  been  abandoned  a  Mr. 
James  Wheeler,  of  Paris,  out  of  curiosity  went 
to  have  a  look  at  the  well,  and  whiU  ••re 

fiancied  that  he  heard  a  sound  .t.  ■  .  >.-i ,  .ng. 
AniJllicr  gentleman,  who  was  fit.indin-^  near,  at 
once  went  down   into  the  luv  n,  and 

rejjorted  that  he  had  received  a  i;:>iiiii  >.  i<  >ponse 
to  his  rapping.  Without  a  mumenl's  delay  men 
were  hurried  to  the  spot,  and  the  workers,  though 
nuich  fatigued  by  their  previous  long  exertions, 
renewed  their  plucky  struggle  for  a  man's 
life.  At  2  a.m.  on  Friday,  the  27th,  the 
third   day   of  his    imprisonment,    the   rescuers 


37° 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


were  able  to  communicate  with  Sandford  again, 
and  ran  iron  pipes  through  the  wall  of  earth  to 
convey  air  to  him.  Sandford  informed  the  men 
that  he  was  ten  feet  below  them,  and  they  at 
once  set  to  work  to  deepen  the  shaft.  After 
this  Sandford — no  doubt  worn  out  by  his  long 
and  anxious  vigil — is  thought  to  have  become 
delirious.  He  was  heard  crying,  "  Come  down  I 
Come  down  !  "  and  moaning  pitifully. 

Meanwhile  willing  hands  that  eagerly  volun- 
teered for  the  perilous  task  toiled  on  unflaggingly 
in  the  depths  of  the  new  shaft.  Sandford's  father 
— who  had  returned  to  the  scene — sat  for  the 
most  part  silent,  making  no  remarks  on  what 
was  being  done,  but  with  his  eyes  fastened 
steadfastly  on  the  mouth  of  the  shaft  leading 
down  to  the  scene  of  operations  below.  In  the 
house  close  at  hand  two  sisters 
of  the  entombed  man  hoped 
against  hope  that  their  brother 
might  be  brought  up  alive. 

When  the  shaft  had  been 
deepened  to  a  depth  of  sixty 
feet,  and  the  tunnel  cut 
through  to  the  old  well,  the 
rescue  party  found  that  they 
were  too  far  down,  and  the 
tunnel  had  to  be  filled  up  and 
the  whole  laborious  business 
of  cutting  a  new  one  higher  up 
commenced.  All  the  tunnel 
work,  by  the  way,  had  to 
be  carefully  "cribbed"  with 
timber  to  prevent  caving-in. 

The  hole  that  was  now 
bored  was  found  to  be  above 
Sandford,  but,  nothing 
daunted,  the  workers  toiled 
on,  and  by  a  lower  boring  he 
was  finally  reached.  Sandford 
was  discovered  lying  on  his 
side,  very  pale,  and  muttering  indistinctly.  The 
fresh  air  that  reached  him  caused  him  to  revive 
somewhat,  and  after  the  administration  of  some 
hot  water  and  milk  by  the  physicians  he  gained 
strength  in  a  remarkable  manner. 

"  My  body  is  free,"  he  explained  to  his 
rescuers,  "  but  my  legs  are  caught.  I  can  move 
them  .slightly,  and  they  are  not  crushed,  but 
they  are  so  tightly  gripped  that  they  will  pull  off 
before  they  will  give  an  inch.  None  of  my 
bones  are  broken,  but  I  am  sore  all  over.  My 
head  hurts  and  my  eyes  burn,  but  I  am  not 
hungry."  He  expressed  an  opinion  that  he 
would  be  able  to  get  out. 

For  twenty-four  hours  the  men  laboured  in- 
ce.ssantly  to  release  Sandford's  leg,  by  which  he 
was  firmly  held.  Having  failed  to  succeed  in 
what    had   at    first    appeared   a   comparatively 


MK.     JOHN     CAKNIE,     WHO     SUPERINTE.NDED     THE 
KESCUE     OPERATIONS.        HE     WORKED     CONTINU- 
OUSLY   FOR    SEVENTEEN     HOUR.S. 

From  a  Photo,  by  Cockbnrn. 


simple  task,  it  was  finally  decided  that  a  new 
tunnel  would  have  to  be  dug,  in  order  to  get  at 
the  foot  and  clear  away  whatever  held  it.  Mr. 
Jones,  the  engineer,  declared  against  this  scheme, 
as  involving  too  much  peril  for  Sandford's 
would-be  rescuers.  But,  in  spite  of  all  warn- 
ings, the  men  determined  to  take  the  risks  and 
proceed  with  the  work.  They  chose  to  take 
their  lives  in  their  hands,  and  the  event  justified 
their  daring. 

Sandford,  on  being  consulted,  agreed  to  the 
men's  plan  of  tunnelling  in  two  feet  below  him, 
immediately  underneath  the  imprisoned  leg. 
Over  him  they  built  an  arch  to  provide  against 
a  possible  cave-in  when  the  sand  and  bricks 
below  should  be  moved.  Round  his  body  a 
rope  was  fastened,  attached  to  a  pulley  on  the 
other  side  of  the  crib -work, 
and  above  ground  half-a-dozen 
men  held  this  rope,  prepared, 
in  case  a  fall  of  earth  did 
occur,  to  adopt  the  desperate 
remedy  of  attempting  the  pri- 
soner's rescue  by  a  prompt 
and  vigorous  pull. 

A  small  opening  only  was 
made  in  the  side  of  the  well, 
and  every  inch  of  it  was  pro- 
tected. At  length,  by  the 
light  of  a  portable  electric 
lamp,  Sandford's  trousers  were 
seen.  The  foot  itself  was  pre- 
sently discovered,  wedged  in 
between  an  iron  pipe,  the 
bricks  of  the  well,  and  a 
heavy  board.  In  removing 
these  obstructions,  as  had 
been  feared,  Sandford  slipped 
down,  and  it  is  said  that  not 
till  then  did  this  long-enduring 
man  express  alarm.  He  only 
descended  a  few  inches,  however,  and  after 
some  stimulant  had  been  administered  the  last 
brick  was  removed  without  any  catastrophe 
occurring,  and  the  prisoner  was  free. 

At  5.30  on  Saturday  afternoon— the  fifth  day 
of  his  entombment  —  Sandford  w-as  released, 
after  exactly  a  hundred  hours  in  the  well.  At 
5.35  he  had  regained  the  upper  air,  having 
escaped  from  the  gloomy  vault  that  had  for  so 
long  threatened  to  engulf  him  altogether.  The 
rescued  man's  coolness  was  evidenced  by  the 
fact  that  before  lacing  drawn  up  he  requested 
that  water  should  be  sent  down  and  his  face 
washed.  He  did  not  want  to  make  his  appear- 
ance with  a  dirty  face,  he  said. 

When  Sandford  reached  the  surface  there  was 
no  noisy  demonstration,  though  doubtless  the 
two    thousand    people  gathered   around  would 


ENTOMllKI)     IX     A    WRLI. 


lia\c  liked  to  relieve  their  feelings  with  a  heartv 
cheer.  The  doctors  had  requested  that  in  the 
interest  of  the  rescued  man  silence  and  quiet 
should  be  maintained,  and  their  wishes  were 
respected.  As  he  was  placed  on  a  stretcher 
preparatory  to  being  conveyed  to  the  house  of 
Mr.  Scott,  Sandford  shook  hands  with  the  man 
who  had  brought  him  up  and  asked  for  Carnie, 


Sandford  thus  describes  his  sensaliun.-,  Uuniig 
his  long  sojourn  underground  :  — 

"  When  the  first  collapse  came  there  wa.s  a 
roar,  and  I  found  myself  in  a  small,  chamber-like 
space.  The  bricks  formed  an  arch  over  and 
underneath  me.  I  could  stand  ui>rightand  even 
walk  around,  and  I  soon  discovered  that  through 
the  iron  tube  I  could  hear  what  was  said  by  the 


Front  a 


IHK  ARRIVAL  OF  THK  RESCUED  MAN  AT  THE  TOl'  OK  THE  SHAI  T 


I  riwto. 


who,  along  with  others,  had  laboured  heroically 
to  effect  his  rescue.  A\'hen  the  well-digger 
appeared  Sandford  said,  gratefully,  "  Carnie,  you 
are  a  hero,"  to  which  Carnie  modestly  replied  : 
"  Well,  that's  as  may  be,  but  youVe  the  biggest 
brick  in  Canada." 

On  reaching  the  house  Sandford  was  taken  in 
charge  by  two  trained  nurses,  to  one  of  whom 
he  said,  when  she  proceeded  to  adjust  his 
pillow,  "You  needn't  do  that.  I've  had  a 
pillow  of  stones  all  the  week,  and  I  can  stand 
this."  The  crowd  meanwhile  dispersed,  and 
very  soon  the  bells  and  factory  whistles  of  Paris 
noisily  proclaimed  the  successful  rescue. 

The  doctors  upon  examination  found  no 
bones  broken,  and  Sandford's  leg  had  been 
more  injured  by  his  own  efforts  to  release  it 
than  by  the  cave-in  itself.  The  sand,  however, 
had  worked  its  way  into  the  skin  of  his  face, 
necessitating  the  ap[)lication  of  poultices.  He 
was  suffering  from  a  bad  cold  at  the  time  of  the 
accident,  and  this  was  naturally  aggravated  by 
his  long  imprisonment  in  such  an  unfavourable 
situation. 


workers  above  me.  I  distinctly  realized  my 
danger,  but  still  I  thought  I  was  going  to  get 
out. 

"  I  was  sitting  down  when  the  second  crash 
came,  and  I  felt  the  top  arch  lall  in  and  knew  that 
I  was  caught.  I  then  dug  into  the  side  of  the  well. 
The  bricks  were  loose  and  I  burrowed  a  hole 
in  them,  into  which  I  squeezed  my  body.  I 
realized  that  if  another  move  of  the  bricks  came 
I  should  be  crushed  to  death.  The  air  was  still 
good,  and  I  could  hear  the  men  at  work  :  but 
after  a  while  another  crash  came,  and  I  felt  that 
I  v.as  being  slowly  smothered.  My  head  was 
pushed  to  one  side  by  the  weight  of  cart' 

think    I     lost    my    senses    then,    and    di>    

remember  much  else  until  I  was  rescued,  wh«Mi 
I   felt   my  face  grow  cold,  and  a  man  tor 
me.     Fortunatelv,    I    must   have   slept  a  gie.a 
deal." 

In  spite  of  his  long  fast  Sandford  did  not 
feel  hungry ;  but  it  is  the  opinion  of  the 
physicians  in  attendance  that  the  young  well- 
sinker  could  not  have  stood  many  more  hours 
of  the  terrible  ordeal  he  so  bravely  endured. 


President  Roosevelt  and  the  Horse=Thieves. 


Ev  Frkdkkick   Moore. 

An  exciting  incident   of  President    Roosevelt's   life  as  a  rancher  in  Dakota.     A  gang  of  fugitive  horse- 

thieves  stole  his  boat,  thinking   pursuit  was  impossible,  but  Mr.   Roosevelt,  accompanied   only  by  two 

cowboys,   promptly  got   upon  their  track,  captured  the   whole    gang,    and,    in  spite  of  great  difficulties, 

succeeded  in  taking  his  prisoners  three  hundred  miles  and  handing  them  over  to  the   authorities. 


T  was  the  last  days  of  the  winter  of 
1886  and  Dakota  was  fairly  (juiet, 
for  the  secret  organization  of  ranch- 
men banded  together  for  mutual 
protection   had  made  a  raid  in  the 

autumn  and  cleared  out  all  the  bad  characters. 

They   missed,    however,  three  individuals    who 

were  especially  deserving  of  their  notice.     These 

saved  themselves  by  stealing  the  boat  of  a  law- 
respecting  citizen  and  lurking  in  hiding  all  the 

winter.     That    the    ranchers   would    have   been 

glad  to  lay  their  hands  on  them  will  be  evident 

from    the   fact   that  the  men   were   murderers, 

cattle-killers,  and — worst  of  frontier  criminals — 

horse-thieves.     Death    waited    for  the  precious 

trio  at  every  ranch  in  the   Bad   Lands.     This 

they  knew,  and  wisely  lay  low  and  waited  for  a 

chance  to  bolt. 

To   travel    across    the    rugged 

Dakota     country     on     horseback 

meant  certain  capture   for  them, 

but  to  go  by  boat  down  stream  on 

the  flood  of  the  spring  freshets  was 

safe  and  quick,  for  below  Medora 

the  country  bordering  the   Little 

Missouri    was    virgin    wild,     and 

where  it  met  the  big  stream  the 

desperadoes  would  be  lost  in  com- 
parative civilization.     Accordingly 

they  constructed,  or  stole,  for  the 

journey   a   flat-bottom    boat,    and 

collected  a  lot  of  Mexican  saddles, 

intending  to  "  procure  "  horses  to 

fit  them  in  their  usual  way  when 

out   of  the   danger   zone.     Then 

they  set  to  work  to  kill  game  and 

cure  the  meat  in  readiness  for  the 

trip.     But  their  boat  was  old  and 

leaked  badly,   so  they  concluded 

that     Mr.    'I'heodore    Roosevelt's 

trim,  clinker-built  skiff  would   be 

a  safer  and  speedier  craft  for  their 

purjjose.     His  was  the  last  ranch 

in  Medora,  and  the  skiff  the  only 

thing   afloat   on    the   river.     The 

land   along   the   banks  was   of  a 

character  that  would    not    permit 

of  a  chase  by  mounted  men,  and, 

according    to    the    logic    of    the 


potential  fugitives,  it  seemed  that  a  chase  would 
be  impossible.  They,  therefore,  decided  to  take 
the  skiff,  being  firmly  convinced  that  the  unfor- 
tunate owner  would  be  unable  to  pursue  them. 

Before  breakfast  one  morning,  late  in  Feb- 
ruary, one  of  Mr.  Roosevelt's  cowboys  came  in 
with  the  startling  information  that  the  boat  was 
gone — stolen,  for  the  rope  had  been  cut.  It 
had  been  done  by  the  men  lower  down,  said  the 
cowboy,  for  he  recognised  the  red  woollen 
mitten  which  the  thieves  had  left  behind  on 
the  shore-ice. 

The  skiff  had  been  specially  brought  out 
from  New  York  for  the  purpose  of  crossing  the 
stream,  for  the  Little  Missouri  River  bisected 
Mr.  Roosevelt's  ranch.  On  the  side  opposite 
the  house  there  was  a  choice  bit  of  pasturage. 


ONE  OF   MU.    KOOSIiVELT  S  COWIllPYS   CAME   IN    WITH     IMli  STAKTMNG    I  Mdlv'.M  ATK  l.N 
THAT   THE    IIOAT    WAS   GONE." 


PRESTDF.N'I'     R(X)SK\  1.1.1'    .WD     INI.     I  loKSi:  11  i  I ' 


>  /  J 


enclosed  by  natural  walls  vi  rock,  in  which  the 
ponies  were  left.  The  loss  of  the  boat  was  not 
only  annoying,  but  would  prove  serious  if  it  pre- 
vented the  men  from  getting  across  for  any 
length  of  time.  As  luck  would  have  it,  just  at 
that  particular  time  a  wandering  band  of 
(Irosventre  Indians  were  encamped  not  far 
away.  These  Indians  were  professional  horse- 
thieves,  and  if  they  once  discovered  that  the 
horses  were  unprotected  they  would,  without  a 
doubt,  make  off  with  the  whole  "bunch." 

Some  kind  of  a  boat  had  to  be  built  there 
was  no  alternative— and  that  at  once  :  there  was 
not  a  moment  to  lose. 
Sewall  and  Dow,  two 
of  Mr.  Roosevelt's 
men,  were  the  best 
carpenters  on  the 
ranch.  Fortunately 
there  were  plenty  (jf 
boards  and  nails 
about,  and  the  ranch 
possessed  a  good 
tool  -  chest.  Mr. 
Roosevelt  spurred  his 
men  on  by  an  in- 
spiring promise  of 
retaliation  on  the 
thieves. 

Mr.  Roosevelt 
knew  that  the  three 
desperadoes  had  been 
encamped  a  short  dis- 
tance below  his  place, 
and  that  they  were 
anxious  to  "skip  the 
country."  He  was 
aw-are,  furthermore, 
that  the  precious 
band  thought  him 
"  soft "  because  he 
did  not  care  to  bring 
about  a  lynching  by 
putting  the  ranchers' 
"  Vigilantes'' on  their 
track. 

Now    Mr.     Roosevelt's 
farther    than    the    robbers'. 


1'KKsI1j|:n  I     KOUSEVEl.T. 
/■ilHU  a  I'lioto.   I' J    y.    Lazai-.vkk,  Xcw   York. 


logic 


went  a  little 
He  figured  out 
correctly  that  they  would  deem  pursuit  impos- 
sible. If  he  could  find  a  way  to  overtake  them, 
he  reasoned,  they  would  be  caught  completely 
by  surprise.  And  to  pursue  and  catch  the 
thieves  he  was  determined.  In  the  wild  border 
country,  where  the  power  of  the  law  is  neither 
felt  nor  heeded,  and  where  every  man  has  to  rely 
on  himself  for  protection,  one  is  soon  taught  by 
bitter  experience  that  it  is  unwise  to  submit  to 
any  wrong  whatever  without  immediate  retalia- 
tion, no  matter  what  the  risk  or  trouble. 


The  boat  was  finished  in   three  davs,   thanks 

to    the   exertions    of    the    cowboy    < r>. 

Flour,  coffee,  and  bacon  for  a  fortnight.  is 

in  plenty,  guns  and  ammunition,  hunting-knives, 
and  a  mess  kit  were  then  put  on  b<Aird.  Mr. 
Roosevelt  and  the  two  constructors  were  to 
form  the  crew,  and  the  voyage  was  to  be  in 
(base  of  the  thieves.  The  boat  was  loaded 
|)retty  deeply  when  it  started  down  the  icy 
current,  but  the  three  on  board  had  no  uneasy 
anticipations  of  the  encounter  they  hoped  would 
soon  come  provided  they  could  keep  out  of 
ambushes.      lUit  the  gullies,  serried   walls,  and 

battlemented  hill- 
tops which  are  to  be 
found  everywhere  in 
the  Bad  I-ands  made 
ambuscades  easy  — 
provided  the  thieves 
knew  they  were  being 
pursued.  But  this 
eventuality  Mr. 
Roosevelt  and  his 
companions  had  to 
risk. 

When  a  man  does 
a  day's  hard  work  m 
the  open  in  the  dead 
of  winter  he  has  a 
ravenous  craving  for 
fresh  meat.  In  pre- 
paration for  the 
journey  Mr.  Roose- 
velt had  gone  out 
shooting  and  had 
bagged  three  deer. 
It  was  late  at  night 
when  he  got  the 
animals,  and  he  had 
only  time  to  clean 
them  and  sling  them 
up  to  the  branches 
(if  a  high  fir  in  a 
secluded  dale.  Re- 
turning next  day 
there  was  nothing 
but  bones  and  horns  left,  and  the  tracks  of 
cougars.  Fearing,  however,  that  the  thieves 
would  get  too  good  a  start,  the  party  left  directly 
the  boat  was  finished,  tlependii)  «    n   -_.  \\\\;s.\. 

game  they  required  in  the  uiu    ,  'Untry 

through  which  they  would  have  to  pass. 

Paddling  was  impossible,  or,  at  least,  use- 
less ;  for  the  men  were  hard  at  work  the 
whole  day  keeping  the  floating  blocks  of  ice 
from  staving  in  the  sides  of  the  boat,  which 
drifted  along  with  the  current,  p  •••  ■  their 
heavy  dress  they  were  numb  with  t  .  when 

the   afternoon   came,  and    they    landed   to   try 


374 


THE     WIDE    WORLD     .MAC.A/.IXi: . 


i'ADDl.lNG    WAS    l.M  I'OSSI  lU.E,    l'>R    THK,    MEN    WEKE    HARD    AT 

STAVING    IN    THE    BOAT." 

and  shoot  something  for  the  evening  meal. 
They  longed  for  deer,  or  bear,  or  buffalo  meat, 
but  not  a  trace  of  any  of  these  animals  did 
ihey  discover.  At  nightfall,  disgusted,  they 
shot  a  half  -  dozen  prairie  fowl.  Breakfast 
brought  no  change  of  menu.  It  was  supposed 
that  the  prowling  Indians  had  driven  all  the  big 
game  out  of  the  neighbourhood,  and  so  the 
three  men  proceeded  cautiously  lest  they  should 
encounter  the  red  men  themselves.  About  mid- 
day, on  rounding  a  curve,  they  sighted  the  red- 
skin camj).  Cautiously  they  drew  in  to  the 
bank,  and  proceeded  to  reconnoitre  the  place 
in  order  to  ascertain  the  number  of  the 
band  and  judge  if  it  would  be  safe  to  drift  by 
in  the  daylight.  The  village,  however,  was 
deserted.  It  had  been  abandoned  apparently 
for  several  days,  and  the  tracks  fortunately  led 
away  almost  at  right  angles  from  the  flow  of  the 
stream.  There  was  nothing  more  to  fear  from 
the  Indians. 

Prairie  fowl  for  dinner,  prairie  fowl  for 
supper;  but  just  before  dark  the  trail  of  a 
white-tail  stag  was  discovered.  Long  before 
daybreak  Mr.  Roosevelt  and  Sewall  were 
on  his  track,  leaving  Dow  in  charge  of 
the  stores  —  the  penalty  of  being  a  good 
cook.  After  several  hours'  tracking  they 
heard    the    animal    "  challenging "    far    ahead. 


WORK    KEEl'INc;    THE    ICE    Ii<OM 


Hurrying  noise- 
lessly on  till 
within  range, 
they  saw  the  stag 
standing  beside 
a  small  lake,  and 
waited  to  see  if 
an  answer  would 
come.  It  did  at 
last,  faint,  in  the 
distance.  After 
awhile  the  reply- 
ing animal  got  to 
the  other  side  of 
the  little  lake 
and,  sniffing  but  a 
moment,  plunged 
in.  A  combat 
between  two 
powerful  crea- 
tures of  this  kind 
IS  tame  in  the 
extreme.  They 
rush  at  one 
another  fiercely, 
invariably  catch- 
ing the  blows  on 
their  horns. 
They  inter -lock 
them  and  push 
and  pull,  but  they  could  go  on  like  this  for  ever 
without  either  seriously  injuring  the  other.  When 
they  had  their  heads  together  in  this  manner, 
shaking  them  slowly,  each  in  contemplation  of 
his  next  move,  Mr.  Roosevelt  and  Sewall — each 
selecting  an  animal,  brought  them  down  almost 
together,  their  horns  still  locked.  The  game 
was  cut  u[)  where  it  lay,  the  selected  portions 
dragged  over  the  snow  to  the  boat,  and  after  a 
hearty  breakfast  the  party  set  off  in  high  spirits, 
with  enough  fresh  meat  to  last  them  for  some 
time. 

That  day,  the  third  ol  the  pursuit,  they  kept 
a  keen  look-out,  for  they  were  nearing  the  place 
where  they  might  expect  to  overtake  their  quarry. 
They  thought  it  probable  that  the  men  they 
were  after  would  not  hurry  down  the  river, 
thinking  themselves  safe  from  pursuit,  and  early 
in  the  afternoon  a  curl  of  smoke  attracted  their 
attention.  Drifting  a  mile  farther  on,  they  sud 
denly  saw  the  stolen  boat  tied  up  to  the  bank, 
proving  the  fire  to  be  that  of  the  thieves. 

The  moment  for  action  had  come  !  Takuig 
off  their  great  buffalo  coats,  the  pursuers  tested 
their  rifle  locks  and  quietly  ran  their  boat  ashore. 
Mr.  Roo.sevelt  was  in  the  bow,  and,  with  his 
rifle  cocked,  jumped  out  and  ran  up  the  bank 
to  cover  the  landing  of  the  others. 

Each   knew   his  place  and    his   work,  and   a 


PRKSIDKNT     KOOSE\'FJ.r    Wh     I  111.     1 IDRSH 'nilKVF.S. 


glance  Irum  their  leader  was  all  that  was 
necessary.  A  grim  look  was  on  their  faces,  and 
a  thrill  of  keen  excitement  tingled  in  their  veins 
and  kept  them  warm  as  they  cre[)t  cautiously  in 
the  direction  of  the  smoke. 

They  surveyed  the  outlaws'  camp  carefullv, 
studying  it  with  Indian  sagacity. 

I'here  was  only  one  man  to  be  seen — a 
(lerman,  busily  engaged  m  curnig  game.  Com- 
ing to  the  conclusion  that  he  was  the  only  man 
in  camji,  the  others  having  probably  gone  off 
hunting,  Mr.  Roosevelt  suddenly  shouted 
"Hands  up  I"  and  the  three  men  marched  in 
from  difterent  points  of  a  triangle  on  the 
astounded  desperado. 

It  was  a  matter  of  but  a  few  muiutes  to  give 
the  terrified  man  his  instructions.  He  was  not 
to  sound  a  warning  note  to  his  companions,  or 
to  make  a  suspicious  movement,  under  penalty 
of  death.  Dow  was  given  charge  of  him.  The 
two  sat  opposite  each  other  over  the  fire,  the 
one  armed  and  watchful,  the  other  stripped  even 
of  his  pocket-knife. 

Meanwhile  Mr.  Roosevelt  and  Sewall  pro- 
ceeded about  a  hundred  yards  in  the  direction 
from  which  the  two  other  thieves  were  most 
likely  to  return.  Here  they  took  up  a  position 
on  a  point  of  vantage,  from  which  they  could 
survey  all  or  most  of  the  probable  paths  leading 
to  the  camp. 

One  of  their  adversaries  was  a  half-breed  of 
the  French-Indian-Canadian  border  type  ;  the 
other,  Finnigan,  a  typical  scoundrel  of  the  early 
Western  days.  The  half-breed  inherited  a  soft 
tongue  from  his  red  mother,  but  Finnigan  had 
a  loud,  coarse  voice  that  carried  over  the  flinty 
rocks  and  the  hard  snow  like  a  trumpet-blast. 
Had  it  not  been  for  this  voice  the  pair  might 
have  fared  better,  or  they  might  have  fared 
worse. 

I'Vom  a  long  way  off  there  presently  came  to 
the  ears  of  the  watchers  the  vulgar  speech  of 
Finnigan,  interspersed  with  profanity,  and  as 
it  grew  nearer  and  nearer  it  told  the  watching 
men  behind  the  rocks  the  way  that  their  quarry 
was  coming. 

Mr.  Roosevelt  and  Dow  accordingly  took  up 
positions  behind  a  stone  ridge  at  a  spot  where 
its  top  was  just  high  enough  to  serve  as  a  con- 
venient rest  for  the  guns.  The  men  would 
have  to  pass  within  a  few  yards  of  it.  Mr. 
Roosevelt  did  not  wait,  however,  until  they  were 
as  close  as  that,  but  gave  them  the  order 
"  Hands  up  !"  when  at  a  distance  of  al)Out  ten 
yards.  The  half-breed's  gun  dropped  instantly 
and  he  obeyed  orders  with  alacrity,  but  Finnigan 
hesitated.  His  eyes  grew  fairly  wolfish  when  he 
saw  that  the  "  tenderfoot  ranchman  ''  he  des[)ised 
had  got  the  "drop  ''  on  him.     Seeing  his  hesita- 


tion,   .\ir.    Roosevelt   lowered    his  few 

inc:hes,  just  so   as  to  cover  the  ci ;  the 

man's  breastbone,  so  that  in  case  the  trif^y.-r  bad 
to  be  pulled  there  would  be  no  danger  • 
of  the  bullet  going  over  the  mark.      Kc' 
gun  aimed  thus,  he  advanced  round  tlu  f 

the  rock  and  repeated  "  Hands  up  ! "  warmngly. 
The  man  dropped  his  gun  at  once,  looking 
steadily  down  the  "business"  end  of  Mr. 
Roosevelt's  rifle,  and  slowly  and  disgustedly 
raised  his  arms  above  his  head. 

(^)uickly  Sewall  collected  the  guns  and  stripped 
the  men  of  their  pistols  and  knives,  and  they 
were  then  marched  in  front  of  the  victors  to 
meet  their  companion.  It  was  too  late  to  start 
down  the  stream  that  night  ;  it  was  bitterly  cold, 
and,  moreover,  a  thin  coat  of  ice  formed  on  the 
river  each  night.  So  captors  and  captives 
camped  at  the  thieves'  den. 

Having  captured  their  men,  the  question  now 
was  how  to  keep  them.  Their  hands  and  feet 
could  not  be  tied,  for  in  the  intense  cold  they 
would  freeze ;  yet  no  chance  of  escape  or 
revenge  must  be  given  them.  It  was  certain 
they  would  never  show  the  mercy  they  were 
receiving.  If  Finnigan,  for  instance,  had  ever 
got  a  "  bead  "  on  Mr.  Roosevelt  he  would  not 
have  troubled  to  shout  •'  Hands  up  1  " 

Ultimately  a  good  idea  was  thought  of-  the 
outlaws  were  made  to  take  off  their  boots.  The 
ground  round  the  camp  was  thickly  covered  with 
prickly  cactus,  over  which  it  was  certain  they 
could  not  run  very  far  in  their  socks.  They 
were  then  made  to  roll  up  in  blankets,  out  of 
which  they  could  not  get  without  a  noticeable 
effort.  Their  weapons  were  done  up  in  a  spare 
blanket  and  tightly  corded,  and  on  this  bundle 
the  guard  sat.  A  watch  was  arranged  of  two 
men  a  night,  leaving  each  man  a  full  night  free 
every  third  day.  The  three  bundles  of  men 
were  laid  close  to  the  fire,  for  humanity's  sake, 
and  also  in  order  that  they  could  be  seen  well. 
The  guard  took  up  his  post  a  little  di.stance 
behind  them  in  order  that  they  could  not  over- 
power him  by  a  sudden  spring,  and,  besides 
having  his  revolver,  ke[)t  across  his  • 
double-barrelled  shotgun  heavilv  ch.ir 
buckshot. 

'I'he  night  passed  without  iiK  iiU  lU,  and  in  \l 
morning    a    well  -  laden     flotilla    st;'."- -l    ''.••" 
stream,  for  the  prisoners   had  a   g> 
plunder  with  them  which  it  was  no  use  leaving 

behind.     Mr.  Roosevelt  -  '     "    '!         'r 

most   dangerous    of   the 

charge,  and  posted  him  in  the  bow  of  the  skirt, 
facing  forward,  so  that  he  <  <uild  always  keep  his 
eve  on  the  (lesperatiu's  back.  In  their  own 
leaky  scow,  already  heavily  laden,  and  with  but 
one  paddle,  the  other  two  scoundrels  were  put, 


376 


THE    WlDli    WORLD    MACIAZINE. 


"   HE   ADVANCED    AROUND    THE   SIDE   OF    THE    KOCK    AND    REPEATED       HANDS   UP 


and  made  to  keep  always  in  advance.  Dow 
and  Sewall  brought  up  the  rear  in  the  scow 
they  had  built  for  the  chase.  This  order,  camp- 
ing ashore  at  night  with  the  same  regulations 
that  had  been  observed  the  first  day,  was  tlie 
monotonous  routine  day  after  day. 

One  morning  the  ice  began  to  get  thicker 
around  them  as  they  pushed  on,  and  finally  the 
little  fleet  had  to  get  as  near  shore  as  possible 
and  land  Sewall,  who  went  ahead  to  investigate 
the  trouble.  As  was  expected,  he  found  that  an 
ice-jam  blocked  the  river,  half  a  mile  below  the 
boats.  The  current  was  sucking  logs  and  small 
blocks  of  ice  under  the  great  mass,  and  it  would 
be  dangerous  to  go  any  nearer,  but  the  whole 
jam  was  moving  slowly.  So  the  party  landed, 
and  the  captors  held  a  consultation.  It  was 
impossible  to  go  back  against  the  ice  with  those 
heavy  scows  ;  to  walk  ac:ross  country  would 
mean  the  abandonment  of  much  valuable 
material  and  a  harassing  burden  of  food  and 
blankets  ;  and  there  was  no  carrying  the  boats 
past  the  block.  There  was  nothing  to  be  done, 
in  short,  but  drift  along  behind  it  when  it  chose 
to  move  faster. 

Slower  and  slower  went  the  ice-pack  until  the 
pressure  behind  it  got  so  great  that  the  middle 


was    forced    out. 
immediately,    but 


It    closed    up    again    almost 
nevertheless    the    new    jam 


moved  along  at  about  double  the  pace  of  the 
old. 

After  seven  clays  of  this  weary  movement  the 
food  began  to  give  out.  llie  fresh  meat  had 
gone,  and  in  consequence  the  demands  on  the 
bacon,  coffee,  and  flour  grew  heavy,  for,  while 
prairie  fowl  and  wild  geese  were  plentiful,  they 
got  tiresome  to  the  men,  who  craved  for  meat. 

On  the  morning  of  the  eighth  day  the  party 
came  upon  the  outlying  camp  of  the  "  Diamond 
C."  ranch — named,  as  all  ranches  are,  after  the 
brand  of  its  cattle.  There  was  but  one  cowboy 
in  the  small,  low  hut  on  the  outskirts  of  the 
cattle  range,  and  he  had  veiy  little  food  to  offer 
the  strangers.  He  had  several  bronchos,  how- 
ever, one  of  which  he  lassoed  for  Mr.  Roosevelt. 
It  was  arranged  that  the  latter  should  fetch  a 
waggon  from  Dickenson,  the  nearest  town  — 
thirty  miles  away — to  take  the  captives  across 
country.  Mr.  Roosevelt  jumped  into  the  .saddle, 
delighted  at  the  change,  but  he  was  no  sooner 
in  than  his  mount  began  bucking  vigorously. 
The  rider  lost  his  eyeglasses,  his  pistol,  and  his 
hat,  but  he  stuck  to  the  saddle  and  presently 
set  off  for  Dickenson. 


PRESIDENT    ROOSEVELr    ANl)     illi:     HoRSE  THIEVES. 


■^T? 


He  was  back  next  day  with  an  old  "  prairie 
schooner  "  drawn  by  two  bronchos,  and  driven 
by  a  typical,  long,  lean  plainsman.  Sewall  and 
Dow  said  good-bye  to  Mr.  Roosevelt,  and 
started  back  up  stream  with  the  skiff  and  as 
much  of  their  own  belongings  and  the  thieves' 
as  they  could  carry.  The  three  "  bad  men  " 
were  seated  in  a  row  on  a  plank  behind  the 
driver,  wliile  Mr.  Roosevelt,  combining  safety 
and  exercise,  walked  ten  paces  behind  the  cart. 


with  you  all  ;  any  other  iikhi  \\<nii<i  iij\c  strung 
you  up." — "  And  you  couldn't  izet  awav  from  a 
man  like  that  !  " 

So  Mr.  Roosevelt  assigned  the  plauisuian  to 
the  small  room  and  the  others  to  the  bunks, 
while  he  took  up  his  jjost  in  a  chair  tilted  against 
the  door  leading  out  of  the  plainsman's  room. 
It  was  a  long  and  anxious  vigil — three  desperate 
scoundrels  in  Iront  and  a  possible  enemy  behind, 
but  the  embryo  President  never  faltered,  ancl 


"  HIS    MOUNT    BEGAN    BUCKING    VIGOROLSl.V,    BUT    HE   STUCK    TO   THE    SADPI.E. 


There  was  no  danger  of  the  captives  running 
away,  for  there  was  nowhere  to  run.  There 
was  no  road  to  I  )ickenson  save  a  straight  cut 
across  the  prairie,  which  had  been  recently 
ravaged  by  fire  and  was  now  covered  with  a 
six-inch  mantle  of  snow. 

At  night  they  struck  a  squalid  frontier  house 
with  one  small  spare  room  and  a  larger  one  with 
two  bunks  in  it.  Mr.  Roosevelt  was  puzzled 
for  a  while  as  to  how  he  was  going  to  guard  the 
whole  party,  for  he  was  suspicious  of  the  plains- 
man from  sundry  muttered  scraps  of  conver- 
sation he  had  overheard  :  "  Chicken-hearted 
tenderfoot." — "How  long  you  been  comin' ? — 
Ten  days  ? — He's  a  fool   for  takin'  this  trouble 


morning  dawned  without  any  untoward  incident 
having  occurred. 

About  six  o'clock  in  the  evening  of  the 
next  day  the  waggon  rolled  into  Di'^'-^'.n 
with    Mr.    Roosevelt   still    marching    >  !y 

behind  it — his  thirty-sixth  hour  awake.  Ihe 
sight  was  hardly  noticed,  for  the  bringing  in  of 
prisoners  was  a  common  occurrence  in  the 
border  town.  The  three  outlaws  were  safely 
lodged  in  gaol,  and  for  his  services  in  arresting 
the  three  men  and  bringing  them  over  three 
hundred  miles  Mr.  Roosevelt  received  the 
liberal  Government  fee  of  fifty  dollars.  And 
so  the  last  of  the  liorse  -  thieves  were  safely 
"rounded   up." 


Vol,  X.    48. 


The  Cruise  of  the  nillionaires. 


Told  by  R.  G.  Knowles.     Chronicled  by  Richard  Morton. 

II. 

The    well-known    comedian    describes    in    a    humorous    fashion    a    voyage    he    recently  made    on    the 

R.M.S.    "Celtic."      This  great  liner  left  New  York  for  a  pleasure  cruise    in   the    Mediterranean,  having 

on  board  a  large  number  of  wealthy  tourists,  many  of  whom  were  American  millionaires.     The  narrative 

is  accompanied  by  a  number  of  photographs  taken  by  Mr.  Knowles  on  the  voyage. 


J  THENS  !  The  artist,  the  poet,  the 
sculptor  —  each  has  dreamed  of 
Athens,  each  has  sighed  for  it.  I 
think  some  of  our  miUionaires  had 
caught  the  same  complaint,  for  they 
displayed  their  erudition  when  we  struck  classic 
soil.  One  gentleman,  standing  on  the  Acropolis, 
which  he  quaintly  referred  to  as  the  Necropolis, 
remarked,  "  Is  it  not  grand  to  linger  on  the 
mountain  and  let  the  voice  of  the  city  talk  to 


One  of  our  party  was  scornful.  He  thought 
it  was  utterly  and  criminally  careless  for  the 
authorities  to  allow  magnificent  buildings  to  go 
to  ruin  like  that.  He  owned  two  living-houses 
and  a  factory,  he  told  us,  and  he  spent 
thousands  of  dollars  every  year  on  repairs  with- 
out regretting  them,  for  it  prevented  decay. 
The  state  of  the  public  buildings  in  Athens  was 
a  disgrace. 

Our  amusements  were  catered  for  by  various 


/•  ra)>i  a ) 


•lllli    MILI.lONAIUliS    INSrECr    TIIK    ACKCH'OLIS. 


\rhoto. 


you  in  the  language  of  Diogenes  ? "  I  said, 
"  Yes,  very  nearly,"  thinking  it  best  to  agree 
with  him. 

Another  one  revelled  in  the  fact  that  he  was 
standing  where  once  Phidias  had  stood.  I  took 
a  more  personal  view,  and  was  interested  in 
finding  myself  within  the  precincts  of  the  first 
theatre  the  world  ever  saw. 


groups  of  wandering  minstrels.  One  troupe 
made  a  great  feature,  in  its  announcements,  of  a 
performing  camel,  and  the  animal  was  certainly 
very  clever  at  standing  still.  I  did  not  see  him 
do  anything  else. 

Another  visitor  was  the  King  of  (ireece,  who 
called  at  the  ship,  but  we  had  no  time  to  return 
the  call.     I  expect  he  was  very  sorry. 


11  lie    CRUISE    OF     1111.    Ml  1.1, ION  AIRES. 


379 


regaled 
startling 


\'ou  sec,  we  were  in  u  luirry  lo  t^ct  to  Coii- 
:taiuinople.  We  acconi[)Iished  the  feat  in  diu- 
course  and  dropped  anchor  in  the  Golden  Horn 
one  evening  about  six  o'clock.  From  the  deck 
of  the  ship  Constantinople  presented  one  of  the 
loveliest  pictures  it  is  possible  to  imagine.  We 
were  enchanted,  and  agreed  that  it  was  the  most 
beautiful  city  we  had  ever  seen.  This  was  our 
opinion  as  we  stood  on  the  deck  of  the  ship. 

When  we  landed  we  changed  our  minds. 
\Mien  we  returned  aboard  we  changed  our 
clotlies.  The  place  is  remarkably  odorous.  We 
coughed,  we  sneezed,  we  made  grimaces,  we 
commandeered  gallons  of  eau-de-Cologne.  But 
our  efforts  were  idle  ;  we  were  forced  to  settle 
down  to  grin  and  bear  it — to  try  to  forget  it. 
But  we  never 
shall. 

W  e     had 
been 
with 

tales  of  the 
ferocious  wolf- 
hounds that 
roam  wild  in 
the  thorough- 
fares of  Con- 
stant inople, 
and  many  of 
us  carried  life- 
preservers,  for 
we  expected  to 
find  the  dogs 
ready  and  will- 
ing to  tear  us 
to  ])ieces.  I 
think  we  were 
terribly  dis- 
appointed to 
find  nothing  in 
the  wolfhound 

line  of  business  except  numbers  of  poor,  mangy 
curs  curled  up  in  the  middle  of  the  roads, 
sound  asleep,  and  so  lazy  and  dispirited  that 
they  preferred  being  run  over  to  moving. 

Oh,  those  travellers'  tales  !  ^Ve  had  heard 
that  each  ferocious  dog  has  his  own  special 
and  allotted  district,  and  has  lo  remain  in  it, 
on  the  penalty  of  being  torn  to  pieces  by  the 
animals  of  any  territory  he  might  invade.  It 
was  also  averred  that,  if  he  wished  to  call  on 
another  dog  or  do  business  in  a  foreign  district, 
on  producing  satisfactory  proofs  that  his 
intentions  were  peaceable  and  honourable  he 
would  be  provided  with  a  guard  while  on  strange 
ground,  the  enemy  agreeing  to  an  armistice  and 
furnishing  the  escort  to  accompany  him  and 
see  him  safely  home. 

I    spent    many    weary     hours   searching    for 


i' rotii  a\ 


\    SIREET    liARIiF.K 


canine  courtesies  of  that  kind,  but  without 
success.  There  were  no  personally-conducted 
dog  excursions  in  Constantinople  while  I  was 
there. 

Our  own  excursion  voyaged  on  to  Smyrna, 
where  we  landed  for  a  brief  space.  It  was  not 
nice.  We  recalled  the  old  adage,  "  Of  two  evils 
choose  ye  the  least,"  so  we  went  back  to  the 
ship.  A  number  of  the  passengers  forsook  us 
at  Caifa,  intending  to  visit  the  Sea  of  Galilee 
and  to  journey  to  Jerusalem  on  horseback. 
The  rest  of  us  disembarked  at  JaRii  (where  the 
oranges  come  from — and  the  plague,  and  small- 
pox, and  other  trifles).  The  mouth  of  the 
harl)our  is  filled  with  snags,  looking  like  teeth 
in  need  of  a  dental  operation.     But  the  boat- 

m  e  n  are  a 
skilful  race, 
and  we  were 
landed  without 
accident, 
rather  to  our 
surprise. 

They  hurried 
us  through 
streets  that,  in 
some  places, 
were  too 
narrow  for  car- 
r  i  a  g  e  s ,  and 
hustled  us  into 
a  train  bound 
for  Jerusalem. 
It  seemed  so 
prosaic  to 
journey  thither 
behind  a  n 
engine  that  I 
a  I  m  o  s  t    r  e  - 

IN    JEKUSAI.KM.  l/V/,./...  gfCttcd      I       hud 

not  travelled 
on  horseback  with  the  rest  of  the  party. 

I  have  often  heard  the  ejaculation.  "  Oh, 
lerusalem  ! "'  but  I  never  realized  its  full  signi- 
fication until  I  reached  the  city  itself.  The 
phrase  should  be  spelt  "  Oivi  Jerusalem,"  for 
everybody  there  seems  to  be  under  the  impres- 
sion that  you  owe  them  something.  I  owe 
myself  an  apology  for  having  gone  there  at  all. 

The  native  whines  for  backsheesh,  and 
generally  gets  it.  'i'he  streets  are  narrow,  dirty, 
and  foul.  Vou  are  dragged  around  almost  by 
the  hair  of  your  head  to  lock  nt  places  which 
they  endeavour  to  make  interesting  by  the 
elaborate  methods  of  lying  they  employ. 

Here  is  an  instance.  On  the  way  to  Bethle- 
hem we  were  shown  the  cave  where  Elijah  was 
fed  by  the  ravens.  .Mount  Scopus  also  supplied 
us  with   the  cave  where   Elijah  and  the  ravens 


38o 


THE    WIDJ:    world    MAOAZINE. 


Frotii  a\ 


THE    MOUNT   OF   OLIVES. 


{Photo. 


banqueted.  On  the  Mount  of  Olives  we  again 
liad  pointed  out  to  us  the  cave  where  the  ravens 
treated  Elijah  as  a  guest.  The  passengers  who 
travelled  from  Caifa  assured  us  they  had  seen 
several  caves,  each  one  of  which  was  the  very 
identical  spot  where  those  ravens  ministered  to 
the  hunger  of  the  prophet.  And,  as  we  were 
on  our  way  to  Jericho,  with  great  ceremony  the 
guide  pointed  out  the  cave  where  Elijah  was 
waited  on  by  the  ravens.  He  waxed  indignant 
when  we,  instead  of  being  imi)ressed,  gently 
remonstrated  with  him.  He  affirmed  that  he 
spoke  the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and  nothing 
but  the  truth.  So  we  were  obliged  to  believe 
him,  and  the  conclusion  we  ultimately  came  to 
was  that  the  prophet  must  have  become 
enamoured  of  the  original  experience  and 
repeated  it  whenever  he  came  across  a  con- 
venient cave. 

The  village  of  Jericho,  as  it  exists  to-day, 
would  never  inspire  the  beholder  with  a  sense 
of  its  importance.  One  of  our  millionaires 
summed  it  u[)  as  "  a  one-horse  show,"  and  he 
was  near  the  truth.  There  are  three  or  four 
hotels  for  tourists,  and  a  collection  of  mud  huts 
which  seem  to  grow  out  of  the  ground  without 
any  reason  for  the  act,  and  what  sustains  them 
is  a  mystery  to  me.  Jackals  were  supplied  free 
of  charge  to  sing  their  song  of  praise  beneath 
my  window  at  night,  and  the  friendly  mosquitoes 
organized  a  remarkable  chorus  of  welcome. 
We  were  fresh  meat  for  them  after  a  long  course 
of  natives. 


So  we  were  not  sorry 
to  be  routed  out  of  our 
beds  at  four  o'clock  in 
the  morning  to  start 
for  the  River  Jordan. 
We.  drove  through  what 
had  once  been  the 
bottom  of  the  Dead 
Sea,  and  the  journey 
was  sensational  enough 
to  suit  the  most  ener- 
getic seeker  after  ex- 
citement. There  were 
eleven  upsets,  and  the 
marvel  is  that  nobody's 
neck  was  broken. 

One  of  the  most 
wonderful  sights  I  have 
ever  seen  was  that  of 
the  sun  rising  over  the 
mountains  of  Moab — 
like  a  red  fire  -  ball 
whose  rays  seemed  to 
lilunge  into  the  sacred 
Jordan  for  its  morning 
dip  before  smiling  on 
the  world.  1  think  that  sounds  poetic,  and, 
unlike  some  poetry,  it  is  true. 

The  Dead  Sea  was  visited  on  our  way  back 
to  Jericho,  and  from  the  latter  point  we 
journeyed  back  to  Jerusalem,  arriving  there  in 
time  for  dinner  that  evening,  tired,  dusty,  and 
worn-out  in  every  respect  except  appetite. 

Our  next  jaunt  was,  by  way  of  Jaffa  and 
Alexandria,  to  Cairo.  We  were  landed  at 
Alexandria  in  barges,  after  being  drawn  a 
distance  of  about  seven  miles  by  lugs.  We  had 
commenced  by  being  lowered  in  chairs  from  the 
deck  of  the  ship  to  the  barges,  and  the  dis- 
comforts of  the  entire  trip  resulted  in  many 
passengers  suffering  from  vial-de-wer  before  they 
got  to  land,  liut  we  found  all  our  troubles  at 
an  end  when,  after  a  hot  and  uncomfortable 
journey,  we  arrived  at  the  Continental  Hotel  in 
cool,  comforting,  curious  Cairo. 

It  is  possible  to  thoroughly  enjoy  life  in 
Cairo.  The  movement  and  colour  form  a  most 
attractive  picture.  It  was  in  its  neighbourhood 
that  Napoleon  ob.served  to  his  army,  "  Forty 
centuries  look  down  upon  you."  At  least,  I  am 
told  he  said  so.      I  did  not  hear  the  remark. 

Now  there  is  another  century  to  be  taken  into 
account,  and  the  Sphinx  looks  down  upon  the 
festive  electric  car  conveying  the  golfer  to  the 
links,  that  are  situated  right  under  her  mysterious 
eyes. 

One  of  the  wily  guides  who  grew  fat  on  our 
party  at  this  period  took  a  remarkable  fancy  to 
me.     I  tried  to  avoid  him  and  to  induce  hira 


THE    CKUISK    ()1.     nil.     Mil  I  loXMRHS. 


381 


to  believe  that  his  affeclion  was  misplaccti,  but 
he  would  not  be  gainsaid.  He  told  me  I  had 
been  more  than  kind  to  him,  and  that  gratitude 
was  part  of  his  nature.  He  would  willingly  lay 
down  his  life  for  me  if  I  would  allow  it.  I 
strongly  objected  to  such  a  sacrifice,  there  being 
really  no  occasion    for  anytliing  so  heroic.      1 


From  a 


rilU    MIM.IONAIKICS    VISIT   THK    .Sl'HIN.X. 


said  I  was  satisfied  with  the  offer,  made  in  a 
well-meaning  spirit,  I  was  sure,  and  I  would  let 
it  go  at  that. 

This  was  more  than  he  would  do.  If  I 
would  not  accept  his  miserable  existence  as  a 
present,  he  would  at  least  bestow  upon  me  a 
scarab,  one  that  he  would  have  refused  to  his 
own  father. 

I  told  him  I  did  not  want  it.  He  insisted 
that  I  did,  and  I  began  to  believe  him.  I  had 
to  have  it,  he  said.     He  won  the  day. 

He  brought  it,  and  swore  by  his  family,  his 
religion,  and  his  life  that  it  was  priceless.  It 
had  been  in  his  possession  for  six  years,  or  six 


centuries-  he  seemed  uncertain  which-  and  he 
would  not  have  parted  with  it  for  worlds  except 
to  me,  the  only  man  worthy  of  it. 

I  took  it  to  oblige  him.  I  forget  how  much 
I  gave  him  in  exchange,  but  I  know  that  I  felt 
rather  proud  as  I  showed  it  to  one  of  our 
millionaires.  He  told  me  its  market  value  was 
about  twopence  -  halfpenny, 
and  that  he  thought  of  stiid 
ing  a  chest  or  two  of  thcni 
over  to  the  States  as  an  invest- 
ment. 

I  went  upstairs  and  com- 
posed a  proverb.  This  is  it : 
"  People  who  boast  of  their 
generosity  are  never  generous, 
seldom  just,  and  frcfiuently 
mean." 

Having  achieved  that,  I 
was  ready  for  the  route,  and 
the  route  was  ready  for  me. 
Naples  was  our  next  point. 
Now,  I  have  heard  discussions 
in  many  parts  of  the  world  as 
to  the  relative  beauties  of  the 
I^ay  of  Naples  and  the  har- 
bours of  Sydney  and  Rio 
Janeiro.  I  have  visited  two 
of  these  spots  out  of  a  possible 
three,  and  I  must  candidly 
confess  that  I  prefer  St. 
James's  Park.  But,  it  will  be 
urged,  there  is  no  harbour 
there  !  No,  I  reply  ;  that  is 
why  I  prefer  it.  I  plead 
guilty  to  not  being  a  lover  of 
the  sea,  though  I  admit  that 
it  serves  a  useful  purpose 
when  one  cannot  travel  by 
Innd.  It  enables  us  to  visit 
such  cities  as  Naples,  Rome, 
Florence,  and  \'cnice.  It 
enabled  me  to  journey  out  to 
Egypt,  climbing  back  thr(  ■•  '• 
the  ages  till  I  reachcii 
pyramids,  and  then  climbing  down  again,  from 
the  year  n.c.  2000,  by  way  of  Italy,  to  the 
comnionplace  of  to-day. 

Rome  satisfied  my  cravings.  In  my  mind  she, 
with  her  ancient  ruins  and  modern  gr.iruleur, 
stands  alone.  I  am  proud  of  th;"  ■  ••  trk,  and 
rci)eat  it  wherever  possible. 

Of  course,  we  saw  all  that  the  traveller  is 
obliged   to  see.      It   was  but  * 

Colosseum    to    the    Forum,   j  ^^  ■ 

lovely  arches,  that  of  Constanline  and  that  of 
Titus.     \o\x   can   read   all   about  them  in  the 
guidebooks,  as  I  ditl. 

A    visit    to    the    Catacombs    was    rendered 


\riwto. 


382 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MACiAZINE. 


decidedly  interesting  on  account  of  the  uncon- 
scious humour  of  our  guide,  a  Trappist  monk, 
a  Hollander,  who  had  learned  all  the  English 
he  knew  by  listening  to  the  tourists.  But  he 
was  acquainted  with  every  inch  of  the  ground 
he  took  us  over.  As  the  Catacombs  is  the  City 
of  the  Dead,  so  is  the  city  laid  out  in  under- 
ground streets,  and  we  wandered  through  them 
listening  to  the  chatter  of  the  monk.  He 
seemed  to  masticate  his  words  before  he  spoke 
them,  and  his  quaint  dialect  added  to  the 
general  effect. 

"  Dere  are  more  dan  a  million  people  puried 
here,"  he  said  ;  "  eight  and  nine  stories  high, 
and  de  leedle  children  on  de  corners  ^//  tvay!" 
"This  way,"  he  meant,  and  he  immediately 
backed  into  one  of  the  little  streets.  They  are 
only  just  wide  enough  to  admit  one  person  at  a 
time,  but  our  guide  never  missed  his  mark, 
though  he  walked  backwards  all  the  while. 

His  crowning  effort  came  when  he  brought  us 
to  the  place  where  there  is  a  statue  of  St. 
Cecilia,  illuminated  by  electric  lights.  There 
are  three  cuts  on  the  neck  of  the  statue,  filled 
in  with  red  paint  to  make  them  appear  more 
ghastly.  With  the  utmost  gravity  the  guide 
observed,  "  De  statue  of  St.  Cecilia ;  she  got  it 
in  the  neck  three  times  ! " 

An  irreverent  American  must  at  some  period 
have  made  that  remark  in  the  hearing  of  the 
monk.  At  any  rate,  the  good  man  has  included 
it  in  his  descriptive  oratory,  and  appears  likely 
to  perpetuate  a  slangy  and  rather  gruesome 
jest. 

The  monk  continued  :  "  But  it  did  not  kill 
her.  Then  they  boiled  her  in  a  pot.  And  she 
died.  But  she  still  retained  the  beauty  of  her 
form.  We  have  the  original,  but  we  only  show 
the  statue." 

And  then  we  thought  we  would  leave. 

Florence  was  interesting  until  we  struck  the 
subject  of  Michael  Angelo,  and  then  I  under- 
stood the  meaning  of  monotony.  You  cannot 
get  away  from  Michael.  ]'1orence  is  famous  as 
his  birthi)lace.  He  was  the  most  wonderful 
man  that  ever  lived.  He  had  so  much  time  on 
his  hands  that  he  did  not  know  what  to  do  with 
it.  But  he  lived  a  fairly  active  life,  and  died 
eventually,  regretting  the  fact  that,  though  he 
had  accomplished  much,  he  had  left  so  much 
undone  that  his  life  had  been  wasted. 

Michael  is  credited  with  having  lived  a  certain 
number  of  years,  and  during  that  period  he 
carved  out  many  statues  ;  but,  having  so  much 
time  to  spare,  he  built  a  few  churches,  and,  that 
not  satisfying  his  ajjpetite  for  work,  he  painted 
considerably.  Still  he  had  vacant  moments,  so, 
when     Charles     \'.     besieged     his     native    city, 


Michael  fortified  it  against  him  and  defended  it 
so  successfully  that  Charles  retired  in  disgust 
before  the  architect-painter-sculptor-general. 

After  carefully  liguring  out  the  number  of 
hours  this  wonder  lived  and  the  work  he  is 
credited  with,  1  find  he  made  a  point  of  turning 
out  one  completed  statue  of  the  first  class  every 
month,  besides  leaving  behind  him  enough 
unfinished  sculptures  to  keep  ten  men  busy  till 
the  end  of  their  days.  'I'his  was  the  total  of  his 
work  ;  his  other  deeds  must  be  set  down  as 
play.  As  one  of  our  millicKiaires  soberly  and 
feelingly  said,  "  He  took  the  cake." 

At  Venice  we  once  more  came  face  to  face 
with  guide-book  lore--  \^enice,  the  City  of  the  Sea, 
by  the  sea,  and  in  the  sea.  It  is  of  the  past ;  I 
found  little  of  to-day  worth  looking  at.  Of 
course,  we  duly  noted  the  gorgeousness  of  St. 
Mark's,  the  Doges'  palace,  the  square,  and  the 
campanile,  of  which  1  took  a  snap-shot.  This 
was  before  it  fell.  I  hope  I  didn't  precipitate 
the  catastrophe. 

Directly  opposite  where  the  campanile  used 
to  be  is  the  clock-tower,  and  my  fancy  was 
taken  by  the  ancient  clock  with  its  wonderful 
mechanism.  It  has  no  dial,  but  Roman 
numerals  show  the  time  every  five  minutes. 
There  are  multitudinous  complexities  concerned 
with  the  signs  of  the  zodiac,  the  earth,  the  moon, 
and  the  sun.  The  earth  revolves  on  its  axis, 
the  moon  around  the  earth,  and  the  sun  around 
them  both.  I  hope  I  have  it  right.  It  is  wiiat 
I  was  told. 

Over  the  globe  is  a  gilded  statue  of  the 
Virgin,  and  mechanical  figures  pass  before  it  at 
certain  periods.  On  the  top  of  the  tower  is  a 
great  bell,  and  on  each  side  of  this  is  a  large 
bronze  figure  holding  a  sledge-hammer,  with 
which  they  strike  the  hours  on  the  bell.  Some 
years  ago  one  of  these  figures  committed  murder. 
A  party  of  visitors  were  on  the  top  of  the  tower 
examining  the  figures,  when  suddenly  one  of 
the  latter  gentry  prepared  to  strike  the  hour. 
In  carrying  his  hammer  back  he  hit  one  of  the 
tourists,  knocking  him  clear  over  the  edge  of 
the  platform  to  instant  death. 

The  works  of  the  clock  were  made  four 
hundred  and  fifty  years  ago,  and  were  intended 
by  their  inventor  to  perform  all  sorts  of  remark- 
able feats,  but  it  is  likely  that  he  never  ex- 
pected them  to  proceed  to  the  extreme  I  have 
indicated. 

To  conclude  with  a  personal  incident.  On 
my  first  night  in  Venice  I  thought  1  would  take 
a  walk.  So  I  stepped  out  at  the  main  entrance 
to  the  hotel.  When  I  came  to  they  were  about 
to  hold  an  inquest  on  me,  and  I  found  that  I 
ought  to  have  been  drowned. 


Caught  in  a  Waterspout. 

r.v  |.  1-.  r\Ti"ik>-f)N. 

An    experience  in   the   Bay   of  Campeachy.      The    author  describes  how  his  vessel  was  nearly  wrecked 

by  a  waterspout,  which  circled  round  the  ship  in  a  most  extraordinary  manner,  sinking  the  cargo  lighters 

moored  alongside,  and  disappearing  at  intervals  only  to  return  with  renewed  force. 


jORXINC;  it  was,  in  the  Bay  of  Cam- 
peachy.  A  thick  heat-haze  hung 
over  the  smooth,  greasy  face  of 
those  tropic  waters.  There  might 
iie\er  Iiave  been  a  breath  of  wind 

m  the  whole  heavens,  the  atmosphere  was  so 

oppressive.        A 

heavy    ground- 
swell    was     rolling 

leisurely  inshore. 

We  (the  Diamond^ 

an  ocean  tramp  of 

a  rather  good  class) 

lay   at    anchor    in 

fourteen  fathoms  of 

water,    discharging 

railway    material. 

Captain  Gray,  our 

skipper,    said    that 

we  were  "in  for  a 

duster,"   and   gave 

the  chief  engineer 

orders    to    have 

steam  up  ready  for 

mstant  use,  for  he 

thought  we  should 

probably    have    to 

put   to   sea  before 

the  day  was  over. 

I!ut    no    man   is  a 

j)rophet  in  his  own 

country,  and  no 

sailor  is  ever  con- 
sidered an  accurate 

weather  prophet  by 

his    shipmates  pro 

teiii.     '>o  the  "old 

tiia n's  "    precau- 
tions were  secretly 

laughed  at. 

On  the  previous 

evening    a    couple 

of  shore -men    had 

come  off  to  spend 

a  night  aboard  with 

the  "old  man,"  at 

cards  and  whatever 


'  A   SPOUT  !     A   SPrtl'T  !  ■   HK  CRIKD,    F.XCITKRI.V. 


else  they  could  find  to  amuse  themselves.  At 
3  p.m.  they  were  still  aboard,  on  the  poop, 
making  revolver  practice  at  the  black  dorsal  fins 
of  sharks  which  lloated  lazily  by,  almost  on  the 
surface  of  the  bay.  Under  that  terrific  haze  we 
bubbled    at    every    pore,   our   greatest    exertion 

being  complaints 
on  the  weather.  It 
was  like  being  in  a 
measureless  oven, 
moist  with  a  pecu- 
liar vapour.  In 
the  holds  below 
the  Mexican  half- 
breeds  —  certainly 
the  most  lazy  cargo- 
workers  I  have  ever 
met  —  lugged  and 
swore,  but  swore 
more  than  they 
lugged.  Captain 
Ciray  said  the  glass 
was  falling  rapidly, 
and  gave  his  chief 
ofticer  and  engineer 
strict  orders  to  have 
everything  in  readi- 
ness for  speedily 
getting  under  way. 
Suddenly  there 
went  up  from  the 
poop  a  shout  that 
stopped  ever\ 
within  ' 
'Ihe  < : 
one  ol 
and  was  to  us  f 
"  A  spout  !  .\ 
cried,  excitedlv. 

II, ■   u..^   !   '  ;••■■ 
a' 
a 

Those  by  his  side  on  the  poop 
.saw  what  he  meant.  \S\(\\ 
th«m  active  excitement  ruled. 
.\mongst  us,  who  could  not 
see  clear  of  the  vessel's  lx)ws 


584 


THE   WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


because  of  the  midship  erections,   wonder  and 
curiosity  were  the  principal  emotions. 

From  tlie  fore  deck  came  a  confusion  of 
warning  cries.  At  once,  everywhere,  there  was 
wild  hurrying  to  and  fro.  Faces  blanched  by 
fear  were  turned  towards  the  forecastle  head, 
over  which  peered  many  pairs  of  staring  eyes. 
Every  tongue  had  something  to  say  at  the  same 
time  ;  every  man  looked  for  a  leader,  yet  at  the 
same  time  obeyed  his  own  impulse.  Up  from 
the  holds,  like  rats  from  a  burning  well,  came 
Mexicans,  half-breeds,  Yankees,  and  representa- 
tives of  six  or  eight  other  nations.  On  the 
lighters  around  us  fear  and  excitement  ranged 
higher,  for  the  men  there  were  in  greater  danger 
owing  to  their  craft  being  smaller  than  the 
Diamond. 

Officers  and  engineers  shouted  men  to  their 
posts.  On  to  his  bridge  rushed  our  skipper, 
elderly  and  near- 
sighted as  he  was. 
At  his  heels  ran 
one  of  the  visitors ; 
the  other  sup- 
ported his  fainting 
wife  on  the  poop. 
Roused  to  action 
at  last,  some  of 
us  tore  forward  in 
the  mate's  wake 
to  the  work  of 
getting  up  our 
anchor. 

Now  it  was, 
from  the  fore- 
castle head,  that 
we  came  in  full 
sight  of  the  ad- 
vancing terror. 
Surmises  as  to 
what  had  formed 
it  I  leave  to 
scientific  minds. 
A{)parently  it  had 
come  into  being 
within  about  a 
(|uarter  of  a  mile 
of  where  we  lay. 
In  shape  like  a 
mighty  funnel, 
with  its  spout 
thrust  into  an  in- 
verted one.  it 
towered  up  from 
the  surface  of  the 
water  into  that 
heavy  bank  of 
clouds  and  haze 
overhead.     But  it 


WHAl   S    lllli    .M.\rTKI<  .'      KUAKKU     I  HE    MATIi. 


did  not  keep  any  definite  shai)e  for  many 
minutes  together.  At  times  the  narrow  part 
sank  inwards  until  we  thought  the  fearsome 
thing  would  snap  there ;  at  others  it  swelled 
out  till  the  spout  was  one  sheer  pillar  of 
upright  water ;  then  it  lessened  off^  at  the 
face  of  the  bay,  making  us  think  that  it  was 
about  to  draw  up  altogether,  only  to  spread  out 
again  and  become  somewhat  bell-shaped.  An- 
other variant  was  caused  by  the  narrow  portion 
working  up  and  down,  being  sometimes  high  as 
our  main-truck,  then  low  as  a  vessel's  deck. 

About  the  windlass  we  leaped  and  tumbled, 
doing  the  necessary  work,  Heaven  alone  knew 
how,  yet  doing  it,  and  in  frenzied  haste.     We 
might  have  been  a  prize  gun-crew,  drilling  for 
the  Navy's  chief  guerdon  ;  but,  instead,  we  were 
six  dirty  merchant  seamen,  blinded  by  perspira- 
tion, working  for  our  lives.    Meantime,  the  mate 
reeled    out    orders    like    a    tape- 
machine.      From    the  bridge  the 
"  old  man  "  shouted  others,  which 
.  were  drowned  in  the  noisy  rattle 

of  the  gipsy-chain  that  worked  the 
exasperatingly  slow  windlass. 

It  was  only  too  obvious  that  the 
waterspout    was   making    straight 
for   us.      The   air   thun- 
dered  with    its    deluge  ; 
the  water  around  its  base 
was  dented  like  a  saucer. 
Clap,    clap,    clap    fell 
those  windlass-palls ;  palls 
of  death  or  palls 
of  life,  which  were 
they  to  be?     We 
could  have  seized 
the  cable  with  our 
hands  and  almost 
torn  it  up.     Cap- 
tain   Cray    had 
begun   to  yell  an 
order  to  unshackle 
and  slip  the  cable. 
Abruptly  the 
deafening  whirr  of 
our    gipsy  -  chain 
stop})ed  —  not    an 
uiiconimoi)      liap- 
j^ening.      There 
was    a     moment's 
dead  silence. 

"What's  the 
matter  ?  "  roared 
the  mate  to  the 
A.B.  at  the  steam- 
winch,  by  the  aid 
of  which  we  were 
heaving     up     the 


CALl.llI      IN     A     W  Al  i:i<srOLTT. 


a"3 


anchor.  The  man  shouted  back  that  lie  did  not 
know  what  was  wrong,  trying  his  best  to  restart 
the  winch.  The  mate  swore.  We  stood  around, 
numbed  to  inaction  by  the  new  phase  of  our 
position.  The  cargo-workers  began  to  make 
tracks  for  their  empty  hghtcrs,  thinking  to  get 
away  ashore  and  out  of  danger  in  one  of  them. 
"  Unshackle  !  Unshackle  and  slip  it  !  Why 
the  dickens  don't  you  unshackle,  Mr.  Eyson  ?  " 
yelled  the  "  old  man,"  running  frantically  from 
end  to  end  of  his  upper  bridge,  and  every  time 
he  crossed  it  unceremoniously  thrusting  aside 
his  guest,  who  would  persist  in  getting  in  the 
way  with  advice  to  "shoot  at  the  thing  and 
burst  it."  Added  to  the  hubbub  on  deck  the 
engines  were  blowing  off  steam  as  though  their 
boilers  would  split.      Instinctively  some  of  us 


At  last  the  "old  man's"  order  to  shp  the 
cable  made  an  impression  on  the  in  ■  '  , 
repeated  the  command  to  "chips."  i 

rush  was  made  forward  and  up  the  lad<; 
Feverishly  and  wildly  we  laboured  at  the  task  ol 
securing  the  (ore-part  of  the  cable  so  as  to 
slacken  up  the  after-part  for  the  purpose  of 
unshackling.  Eyes  smarting  with  sweat  and 
mouths  almost  parched  dry,  jammed  fingers  and 
accidental  blows  were  all  alike  unheeded.  As 
my  seamen  readers  will  probably  surmise,  the 
|)in  was  rusted  in  its  shackle.  This  occasioned 
delay,  and  before  the  task  showed  any  signs  of 
finish  there  came  a  newer  and  more  alarming 
phase  of  the  matter. 

Suddenly    that    terrorizing    pillar    of     water 
stopped  its   slow   progress   and    began  a  (juirk 
march  towards  us.    Straight 
on  it  came,  so  fast  that  we 
I  Miild  see  it  moving  over  the 
surface.      Not    a 
point,    not   a   de- 
gree did  it  deviate. 
The  thunder  of  its 


"  WF.   STOOD    DUMKOUNDED    IIBfOKE   THE    TKKKIIILE   SCKCTACI.K. ' 


glanced  at  the  waterspout.  It  was  not  more  than 
a  cable's  length  away  !  Do  its  work  the  winch 
would  not.  Madly  the  mate,  apparently  ob 
livious  of  Captain  Gray's  shouts,  leaped  down 
from  the  forecastle  head  and  ran  to  the  winch- 
man's  side.  Some  of  us  followed,  all  seized 
with  the  one  idea  of  restarting  the  winch,  yet  all 
impotent  as  babes. 

Vol,  X.-49. 


impact  on  the  water  became  ab-^ohitcly  deafening. 
Surely  landsmen  never  saw  .1  'ike  to  that  in 

its  awful  simplicity,  ;r  '"  '  '  "'  "        "' 

ing  tragedy.     A  snu  .  : ^ 

heavy  ground-swell,  a  thick  ha/e  of  suffocating 
h.eat,  a  dense  bank  of  unbroken  cloud,  and  a 
mightv  pillar  of  rushing,  sv.-''"  ■  "■"'-■  -talking 
directly  at  us.    We  stood  di:  re  the 


386 


THE  Wide  world  mac^.azinE. 


terrible  spectacle.  Not  a  prayer,  not  a  sound, 
not  a  movement  came  from  any  one  of  the  sixty 
odd  souls  who  gazed  at  that  oncoming  avalanche 
of  water.  Even  one's  thinking  powers  seemed 
paralyzed  for  the  moment.  It  was  the  instant 
of  dead  silence  and  inaction  that  usually 
precedes  the  mad  i)anic  consequent  to  such 
fearful  occasions. 

A  second  more  and  every  man  on  board  had 
turned  on  his  heel  and  dashed  for  what  seemed 
to  him  to  be  safety.  Each  for  himself  and 
Heaven  for  us  all,  that  was  the  keynote  of  the 
situation.  The  sole  idea  with  most  of  us  was 
how  and  where  to  get  away  from  the  awful  thing 
that  menaced  us.  The  result  was  a  pell-mell 
rush  aft.  No  prize  racer  on  ancient  or  modern 
ground  covered  his  course  at  the  rate  we  went 
from  forecastle  head  to  poop.  Almost  before 
we  had  fully  realized  what  we  were  doing,  or 
why  we  were  doing  it,  we  stood  in  a  mass  on  the 
poop-deck — ofificers,  seamen,  cargo-workers,  and 
foremen.  Such  of  the  lightermen  who  had 
made  for  their  craft  were  busily  casting  the 
vessels  adrift,  thoroughly  assured  in  their  own 
minds  that  the  spout  was  about  to  march  from 
the  steamer's  stem  to  her  stern — in  which  case 
the  poor  old  Diamond  would  be  obliterated. 

Up  from  the  stoke-hole  and  the  engine-room, 
in  a  mad  haste  of  inquiry  at  the  stampede  we 
had  just  made  along  the  decks,  came  stokers 
and  engineers.  Seeing  us  gathered  there  on  the 
poop  was  enough  for  them.  Like  grains  of 
steel  to  a  powerful  magnet  they  sprang  to  join 
us.  It  was  at  this  juncture  that  one  common 
idea  seemed  to  strike  the  crowd — i.e.,  in  running 
from  danger  to  fancied  safety  we  had  but  put 
some  three  hundred  feet  between  us  and  de- 
struction. .  As  one  man  we  leapt  to  repair  the 
evil,  our  single  thought  being  the  lighters ! 
There  had  previously  been  two  of  those  craft  on 
our  port  side,  empty  ;  but  their  crews  had  made 
off  with  them  at  the  first  signs  of  danger.  This 
cau.sed  a  mad  general  rush  at  the  three  remain- 
ing ones  to  starboard,  yet  fate  had  not  willed 
that  we  should  so  escape. 

At  the  moment  of  our  second  stampede  the 
spout  had  been,  so  far  as  we  could  then  see, 
within  a  fathom  or  two  of  the  Diamo7id:s  stem. 
When  we  reached  her  side  to  leap  into  the 
lighters  we  saw  that  our  terrible  enemy  had 
swerved  from  its  course  just  enough  to  clear 
the  ship,  but  had  not  abated  its  speed  per- 
ceptibly. 

i)\\  it  came,  and  there  we  stood— gazing 
transfixed  at  that  frightful  manifestation,  which 
we  could  almost  have  touched  with  a  boat-hook. 
It  was  appalling.  Fright  is  reputed  to  have 
turned  men  grey  in  a  single  night.  That  scene, 
added  to  the  numbing  proximity  of  the  water 


spout,  was  almost  enough  to  blanch  the  face  of 
a  negro.     Move  we  apparently  could  not. 

Like  the  inevitable  march  of  some  omni- 
potent demon  of  destruction  the  waterspout 
came  on.  The  foremost  lighter,  half-filled  with 
cargo,  went  down  as  though  it  were  a  match- 
box under  a  bucketful  of  water  poured  from  an 
altitude  of  a  do/,en  feet.  Then  the  spout 
paused,  as  if  considering  the  advisability  of 
destroying  another  barge. 

That  was  the  moment  of  our  deliverance 
from  the  spell  which  had  held  us  in  its  subtle 
and  resolute  grasp.  Back  from  the  rail  we 
fled — some  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  deck, 
others  on  to  the  bridge,  some  forward,  and  some 
aft — anywhere,  everywhere,  wherever  we  could 
get  away  from  that  devastating  fall.  A  panic 
was  on  us,  but  only  for  a  moment.  Captain 
Gray  and  the  mate  rapidly  recovered  their 
senses,  and  as  quickly  resumed  command  over 
the  crowd— I  write  "  crowd  "  because  the  cargo- 
workers'  actions  showed  that,  in  all  things 
appertaining  to  an  escape,  they  were  now  one 
with  us.  Whatever  order  was  issued,  they 
sprang  to  obey  it  as  though  part  and  parcel  of 
our  crew. 

As  we  had  done  before,  so  we  did  again — 
tackled  the  slipping  of  our  cable.  Surely  never 
previously  was  a  shackle-pin  so  stubborn.  Budge 
it  would  not.  Again  came  shouted  queries 
from  Captain  Gray  to  Mr.  Eyson  as  to  why  we 
could  not  get  the  pin  out,  and  whether  or  not 
we  ever  should.  These  but  served  to  muddle 
him  and  flurry  us  even  worse  than  the  still 
threatening  danger  was  doing.  As  a  result  the 
mate  took  the  mall  and  bolt  from  "chips,"  made 
an  attempt  himself  on  the  immovable  shackle, 
failed  to  strike  straight,  and  smashed  his  thumb 
with  the  blow.  Back  to  the  work  sprang 
"  chips,"  whilst  one  of  the  men  tore  off  the 
mate's  shirt-sleeve  and  roughly  bandaged  up  the 
damaged  hand.  Then  came  an  A.B.  with  some 
paraffin  to  loosen  the  pin  of  the  shackle. 

During  this  operation — as  I  afterwards  learnt 
from  some  who  more  closely  watched  the  danger 
— the  spout  sheered  off  a  little  way.  Then  it 
irturned,  struck  the  second  lighter,  and  sent  it 
head-first  to  the  bottom  of  the  bay.  \\'ith  the 
third  and  final  lighter  it  played — yes,  actually 
seemed  to  play  !  No  other  word  would  so 
accurately  describe  the  manner  in  which  the 
column  moved  about  the  craft — now  taking  its 
very  stem  into  the  downpour,  yet  not  putting 
more  than  a  few  bucketfuls  inside  ;  now  wander- 
ing along  by  its  gunwale,  passing  it  by,  then 
returning.  Finally  it  moved  off  a  few  fathoms, 
made  a  small  circle,  hurried  back,  and  filled  the 
lighter  in  an  instant.  'J'hat  was  one  of  our 
niomers  of  greatest  excitement. 


c  All. II  I     l\    A    WAIl-kspoUT. 


387 


iiicy 

t 


THE    MATE   SMASHED    HIS   THU.Ml;    WIIH     I  HE    HLOW. 


When  it  came,  the  visitor  who  wanted  to 
"shoot  and  burst  the  thing"  was  still  worrying 
Captain  (Jray  with  his  idea  ;  but  now,  like  a 
mouse  from  a  cat,  he  fled — literally  jumping  off 
the  upper  bridge  in  his  mad  haste  to  get  away. 
Not  so  with  the  skipper  ;  he  kept  his  place, 
there  on  that  narrow  piece  of  planking  so 
peculiarly  his.  The  lighter  last  to  be  swamped 
and  sunk  was  an  empty  one  moored  amidships. 
Conseciuently,  when  the  waterspout  passed  over 
it  (as  the  fearsome  thing  did),  there  seemed  to 
be  absolutely  no  escape  for  the  Diamond.  But, 
its  waters  falling  sheer  down  by  her  side,  the 
spout  stopped  its  march  almost  directly  op[)Osite 
the  upper  bridge,  its  nearer  edge  washing  the 
plates  as  it  fell. 

All  work  was  abruptly  ended.  It  would  have 
been  something  superhuman  to  continue  in  the 
face  of  that  horror,  and  we  were  but  men, 
although  men  who  had,  in  one  form  or  another, 
faced  death  more  times  than  we  owned  fuigers. 


ICvery  instant  was  an  age  -  an  age  ot 
and   horror.      We   thought  of  nothing 
rushing  power  of  water.     We  might  li., 
turned  to  stone,  petrified  by  that  liquid  horror, 
for  all  the  movement  any  one  of  us  made. 

The  skipper  gave  a  splendid  example  of 
heroism.  lie  .stood  at  the  port  end  of  his 
upper  bridge,  his  back  against  the  railing,  on 
which  his  hands  rested,  awaiting  practirally 
certain  death  as  though  it  wtre  but  a  morn- 
ing cup  of  coflfee  being  brought  him  by  the 
steward.  It  was  the  personification  of  duty 
in  the  face  of  death. 

Then  came  a  marvellous  change.  The 
spout  took  an  upward  turn.  In 
place  of  the  deafening  thud  of  its 
waters  on  the  bay,  there  was  a 
tremendous  whizzing  noise  as  it 
whirled  on  high.  Our  vessel's  pre- 
vious slight  cant  to  starboard,  occa- 
sioned by  the  spout's  impact,  was 
reversed.  She  listed  to  port,  drawn 
over  by  its  upward  attraction  and 
the  inverted  cup-shaped  mound  it 
made  on  the  water's  face.  With 
this  our  expectation  of  calamity 
altered  only  in  form.  Instead  of 
looking  for  the  spout  to  wreck  us 
by  passing  over  the  Diamond,  we 
thought  it  would  break  and  fall, 
sinking  the  ship  in  its  downfall. 
I'or  it  had  suddenly  narrowed  about 
ten  feet  above  the  bridge  until  no 
thicker  than  a  man's  middle. 

Part  of  what  we  e.\{)ected  imme- 
diately   came   about.      The    spout 
broke  ofl"  and  went  uj).  up  out  of 
sight. 
In  a  moment  the  scene  was  as  if  no  water- 
spout had  been.     Only  the  missing  lighters  and 
our  own   haggard   faces   spoke   of  its   late   pre 
scnce.   Like  men  suddenly  and  strangely  arouseil 
from  a  long,  deep  sleep  we  turned  and  looked  at 
each  other.     Could  it  be-   could  it  be  that  we 
had  really  escaped  ?     Had  so  dreadful  a  visitant 
really  been  close  to  us,  and  so  lately,  and 
gone  away  without   destroying  us  ?     Thi 
the  questions    our   faces  asked,  but  no 
uttered  a   word.     Maybe  every  heart   was  t'  ■« 
deeply  engaL|ed   in  giving  thanks  for  th 
jx-cted  deliverance.      Perhaps  the  s-  ■> 
the  moment   was   merely  one  of   w 
(oupled  with  pardonable  doubt  as  to 
or  not  all  of  us  wen-,  01    '     '  1.  dit.ini  : 

Hut  whatever  the  feelip  n- nol   l-'ii^; 

left  in  possession  of  it 

As  the  crack  of  a  whip  came  wintl  that 
brought  us  sharjily  to  our  bearings.  It  was  a 
scjuall    alongshore    from    the  direction    whence 


388 


THi:    Wll)]-:    WORLD     MAGAZIN]<:. 


the  waterspout  had  come,  and  it  quickly  showed 
us  that  the  Diamond  was  dragging  her  anchor. 
This  was  a  new  danger,  as  the  bay  curved  across 
our  stern,  but  it  was  a  danger  to  which  we  were 
accustomed.     It  gave  us  all  fresh  energy,  fresh 


windlass  gipsy  Hying  round,  to  hear  the  deafen- 
ing rattle  of  the  cable  drowning  the  whistling 
wind  !  Out  of  the  maw  of  what  had  appeared 
to  be  inevitable  and  speedy  death  into  one  of 
the  commonplaces  of  our  normal  existence,  and 


"  IIK   STOOD   AWAITING    I'KACTICAl.LV    CliUTAlN    DKAIII. 


posse-ssion  of  our  senses,  fresh  life.  We  sprang 
to  work  with  a  cheerfulness  that  made  toil  light. 

'I'he  "old  man"  rang  his  engine-room  tele- 
graph, "  Half  speed  ahead."  Down  below  went 
engineers  and  stokers  in  wild  haste. 

"  Give  her  some  chain,  Mr.  Eyson,"  roared 
Captain  Gray.  "  Run  out  to  the  forty-five 
fathom  shackle  !    Quick  now  !    She's  dragging  !  " 

And  quick  it  was.  On  to  the  forecastle  head 
we  leaped  again,  and  out  ran  our  cable,  after  a 
])lug  had  been  hurriedly  replaced  in  the  assaulted 
shackle-pin.       How   glorious   it    was   to  see  the 


all  so  rapidly    that    there    was    barely    lime    to 
realize  what  had  taken  place  ! 

Now  the  Diamond  forged  ahead  almost  im- 
perce|)tibly,  yet  enough  to  allow  her  anchor  to 
resettle  itself  in  tiic  bottom  of  the  bay.  Then 
the  engines  were  stopped.  She  drifted  astern, 
and  we  were  thankful  to  see  that  she  did  not  drag. 
The  anchor  had  taken  new  hold,  and  we  were 
spared  the  work  of  finding  a  new  anchorage. 
With  a  general  feeling  of  relief  all  hands  turned 
from  the  windlass,  to  be  stnrtled  by  the  cry, 
Irom  several  pairs  of  lii)s  :    • 


CAUCilir    IN     A    WAlKkSlOLM'. 


'>So 


"There  it  is  ai^aiii  !  " 

And  there  was  the  waterspout,  all  tuo  truly, 
away  on  our  port  beaui.  Scarcely,  however, 
had  the  warning  shout  been  uttered  when  it 
again  disappeared  — to  return  a  third  time  wiihm 
half  our  vessel's  length  from  us -and  what  a 
roaring  thud  was  that  when  it  struck  the  bay  ! 
It  was"  like  the  impact  of  two  great  mountain 
torrents  striking  end-on.  The  Diamond sh'wcxviX 
and  trembled  like  a  living  thing.  1  have  sat  on 
a  steamer's  bare  deck  when  she  ran  on  a  coral 
reef,  and  e.xperienced  the  shaking  of  craft  under 
heavy  ocean  seas,  but  I  have  never  known  a 
vessel  to  shiver  as  the  Diamond  did  on  that 
occasion  ;  more  humanlike  it  could  not  have 
been. 

That  third  approach  of  the  waterspout,  march- 
ing direct   for  our 
port   quarter,   was 
even  more  unnerv- 
ing  than    its    first 
appearance.     It 
seemed  to  say  that 
before  it  had  but 
played  with  us  ; 
now   it    meant 
devilish    business. 
Ere  an  order  could 
be   issued   it   had 
reached    within   a 
couple  of  fathoms 
of  the  Diamonds 
poop.     There  it 
stopped  as  though 
brought  up  by  an 
invisible     hawser. 
Again    we   were 
deafened     by     its 
thunder,  this  time 
accompanied      by 
the    noise    of    the 
wind.     We   could 
see  Captain   Gray 
wildly  gesticula- 
ting and  shouting 
orders,  and  could 
discern  the  move- 
ment   of   his   lips, 
but   did  not  hear 
a   word    he    said. 
The  mate    sent   a 
man   to  learn   his 


wishes.      \\  lulsl  lie   \\eiil  uc  • 
It  had  changed  its  course  ain.  ...^  .   . 

ward  slowly,  like  the  increeping  of  a  tide  on  a 
man  lashed  to  rocks  which  the  tide  would 
submerge.  Diagc^nally  it  came,  e\cr  so  -"'  '  ''• . 
in  a  line  that  would  bring  it  aboard  by  l 

The  man  sent  to  bring  Captain  ^iias 
returned  with  a  i  omniand  to  slip  the  > . 
the  first  shackle.  We  proceeded  with  the  task, 
instantly  and  instinctively  c.\pecling  to  feel  the 
thud  of  that  devastating  spout  on  our  decks. 
\\hilst  so  engaged  we  felt  the  throb  of  the 
engines  below.  The  Diamond  gathered  way, 
her  helm  hard  a-port.  (I'or  this  information  1 
am  indebted  to  a  cargo  foreman  who  watched 
the  manoeuvre.)  The  vessel  went  ahead,  steal- 
ing away  foot  by  foot 
from  the  roaring  down- 
pour and  turning  her 
stern  gradually 
from  it.  Scarcely 
was  she  past  the 
spout  when  it 
rushed  off  at  a 
right  angle  across 
her  stern  and  dis- 
appeared. That 
instant  the  wind 
dropped,  and  rain 
came  down  as 
only  in  the  tropics 
it  can,  but  not  for 
more  than  two  or 
three  minutes. 
Then  all  was  still. 
The  heat-haze  had 
gone;  the  ground- 
swell  had  sub- 
sided ;  the  air  was 
clear  ;  and  we  lay, 
our  cable  un- 
slipped,  in  a  scene 
of  absolute  pe.u  e. 
The  whole  strange 
occurreiu  e  had 
not  occu|)icil  mure 
than  a  quarter  of 
an  hour  '  '  ^ 
ing  that  \y..  e 

seemed     to    have 
lived  a  lifetime. 


1  lit  \VINI<  DKOPPKO,  AM)  KAIN  CAMB  IXiWN  AS  OMI.V  IN  THK 


IN   A 


of  Vienna. 


An  extraordinary  feat  recently  accomplished  by  a  Vienna  turner  named  Anton  Hanslian.  For  a  prize 
of  two  thousand  dollars,  offered  by  a  wealthy  sportsman,  he  wheeled  his  wife  and  little  daughter 
through  the  length  and  breadth  of  Europe  in  a  specially-built  perambulator,  taking  not  a  penny  with 
him  and  earning  his  living  en  route.  Hanslian  covered  nearly  fifteen  thousand  miles  in  twenty-two 
months,  and  met  with  many  hardships.     The  story  of  this  unique  journey  is  told  in  his  own  words. 


WO  years  ago,  at  the  time  of  the 
Paris  E.vhibition,  a  remarkable  spirit 
of  adventure  blossomed  out  among 
the  citizens  of  Vienna.  Wonderful 
and  out-of-the-way  feats  were 
attempted  almost  daily,  and  people  did  most 
extraordinary  things  in  order  to  gain  notoriety. 
One  man,  instead  of  using  the  railway,  drove  to 
the  French  capital  in  a  cab,  another  walked  all 
the  way  on  foot,  and  a  third  tried  to  reach 
Paris  on  stilts.  Yet  another  made  a  barrel 
which  he  intended  to  roll  to  Paris  full  of 
Austrian  wine. 

It  was  reserved  for  a  man  named  Anton 
Hanslian,  however,  a  turner  by  trade,  to  make 
the  most  curious  pilgrimage  of  all.  He  also 
desired  to  visit  the  exhibition,  and  made  up  his 
mind  not  only  to  do  the  journey  to  I'aris  on 
foot,  but  at  the  same  time  to  push  his  wife  and 
infant  daughter  before  him  in  an  ordinary 
perambulator.  This  plan  he  carried  out  suc- 
cessfully in  May,  1900. 

Hanslian  found  this  kind  of  travelling  so 
much  to  his  taste  that  as  soon  as  he  had  got 
back  to  Vienna  he  determined  to  make  a 
journey  through    the   whole   of    luiropit    in    the 


same  way.  He  accordingly  had  a  special 
perambulator  made,  strong  enough  for  such  an 
extensive  tour..  The  conveyance  was  a  kind  of 
cross  between  an  old-fashioned  three-wheeled 
perambulator  and  an  invalid  chair,  and  was 
fitted  'with  a  linen  hood  which  could  be  raised 
in  bad  weather. 

Hanslian  asserted  that  he  was  induced  to 
undertake  this  remarkable  journey  not  only 
from  a  love  of  adventu;^  and  a  desire  to  see  all 
the  countries  of  luirope  in  as  cheap  a  way  as 
possible,  but  also  in  order  to  win  a  substantial 
prize  offered  him  by  a  well-to-do  man  whose 
accjuaintance  he  had  made  in  Paris.  The 
condition  of  winning  the  prize  was  that  he 
should  traverse  the  whole  of  Europe— that  is  to 
say,  all  the  important  countries  and  towns  — 
within  two  years,  making  llie  journey  entirely 
on  foot,  and  pushing  the  perambulator  contain- 
ing his  wife  and  daughter  in  front  of  him. 
Other  conditions  were  that  he  should  start  on 
the  journey  witliout  a  penny  in  his  pocket,  and 
that  he  should  [jrove  that  he  had  traversed  the 
[)rescribed  route  by  sending  post-cards  from  each 
place  he  visited,  and  by  obtaining  certificates 
from  local  officials. 


Ac'Koss    lauoi'i.    IN    A    ri;kA.\iiiL:.AiuK. 


iv 


On  i2lh  Sc'[)tcinber,  1900,  Haiislian  [)iil  his 
wife  and  child  into  this  curious  perambulator 
and  started  off  on  his  long  tour,  pushing  the 
"pram  "  in  front  of  him. 

The  incidents  of  the  tour  arc  best  described 
in  the  turner's  own  words  :  — 

During  our  journey  of  almost  two  years  we 
lived  chiefly  on  the  sale  of  pictorial  post-cards, 
of  which  we  got  rid  of  more  than  fifty  thousand. 
I  earned  money,  too,  by  exhibiting  myself  and 
my  family  in  itinerant  circuses  ;  and  I  sometimes 
gave  lectures  about  our  journey.  But,  to  be 
quite  frank,  we  often  had  to  have  recourse  to  the 
charity  of  kind-hearted  sympathizers,  especially 
at  those  limes  when  my  wife  fell  ill.  This 
happened  on  three  occasions,  and  once  her 
sickness  lasted  nearly  four  weeks.  But,  in 
spite  of  all  that  we  earned  or  were  given,  we 
were  often  hungry,  cold,  and  thirsty.  A';  I 
know  only  the  (German  language  and  a  little 
Czech,  it  was  often  terribly  difficult  to  make 
myself  understood,  and  in  those  countries  where 
I  could  not  speak  the  language  and  where  few 
Germans  live  I  could,  of  course,  make  nothing 
by  one  of  my  sources  of  income — the  lectures. 
Often  for  days  and  weeks  I  met  not  a  single 
soul  with  whom  I  could  converse,  and  when  I 
could  not  tell  our  story,  where  we  came  from, 
and  where  we  were  bound  for,  the  people  of 
course  took  no  interest  in  us  and  passed  us  by 
without  paying  us  any  attention.  This  was  natural 
enough.  How  should  they  know  that  we  were 
traversing  Europe  afoot  with  our  perambulator  ? 
Probably  many  of  those  who  passed  us  by 
indifferently  thought  that  we  lived  in  the  next 
village,  and  that  I  was  taking  my  sick  or  lame 
wife  out  for  a  little  airing.  'Jliis  was  the  reason, 
I  suppose,  why  the  pofjulation  in  many  of  the 
countries  we  visited  appeared  to  us  anything 
but  friendly,  while  in  others  we  were  received 
most  sympathetically  and  well  supplied  with 
money  and  provisions. 

When  we  left  Vienna  on  12th  September, 
1900,  full  of  hope  and  joyous  anticipation,  we 
had,  of  course,  no  idea  what  toils,  diftkulties, 
and  dangers  were  before  us.  We  had  only  a 
few  months  before  made  a  ])ilgrimage  to  the 
Paris  Exhibition  in  the  same  fashion,  and  as 
everything  went  so  well  then  we  felt  no  anxiety 
about  this  longer  journey.  At  first,  moreover, 
all  went  smoothly.  The  weather  was  good  and 
the  people  friendly,  and  the  post-cards  we  sold 
and  the  lectures  I  gave  in  the  village  inns 
brought  us  in  a  goodly  sum  of  money. 

At  the  end  ot  the  first  week  we  crossed  the 
German  frontier  near  Passau,  and  I  remember 
with  pleasure  the  four  weeks  we  spent  in  Ger- 
many on    our  way  to    Holland.      The   weather 


was  glorious,  and  the  i)eop. 
interest  in  my  undertaking  tha 
suffering  want,  we  lived  lilenly  m 
luxury.  W'c  passed  Ratisbon,  Nuren 
Uur/I)urg,  and  then  struck  the  Rhine  at  Col)len/, 
and  followed  it  down  to  Cologne.  From  lh<  r.- 
I  pushed  m)  perambulator  to  I)ii.sseldoif, 
and  at  last  reached  Holland,  where  I  first 
turned  my  steps  to  Amsterdam.  In  this 
country  we  could  hardly  get  even  a  glass  of 
milk  given  us  for  our  little  girl,  and  I  had  to 
make  inroads  upon  the  savings  we  had  made  in 
Germany.  Lectures  were,  ot  course,  out  of  ll>e 
question,  for  I  knew  no  Dutch,  and  the  sale  of 
post-cards  was  not  so  good  as  it  might  have 
been.  We  went  from  Amsterdam  to  Rotterdau) 
and  thence  into  Belgium.  Here  we  passed 
through  Antwerp  and  Brussels,  and  at  the  begin- 
ning of  November,  1900,  crossed  the  French 
frontier  in  pouring  rain.  I  now  wanted  to  get 
to  Paris,  and  as  I  could  not  speak  Fremh 
and  had  heard  that  the  French  were  not 
fond  of  Germans  I  pretended  to  be  a  Czech, 
and  in  this  way  did  well  enough.  My 
purse — which  the  stay  in  Holland  and  Belgium 
had  somewhat  severely  depleted — now  began  to 
fill  again  most  satisfactorily.  After  a  short  stay 
in  Paris  I  turned  my  steps  to  Calais,  where  we 
took  ship  for  Dover. 

In  England  we  spent  ten  weeks,  and  I  cannot 
pretend  that  they  were  among  the  pleasantest  of 
our  journey.     Up  to  this  time  we  had  often  got 
shelter   for  the  night  without  arjy  difficulty  in 
peasants'  houses  or  other  private  dwellings,  either 
free  or  for  a  very  small  payment.     Ihis  we  fouml 
especially  easy  in  Germany,  but  we  could  hardly 
get  taken  in  anywhere  in  England  :  and  as  wc 
had   to  keep  our  savings  untouched  for  the  sta 
journeys  we  had  yet  to  make,  and  so  could  not 
spend  much  on   inns,  we  often  had  to  pass  a 
night    in    the    open,    protected    only   by   our 
blankets  and  reserve  clothes  and   by  branches 
of  trees  against  the  inclement  weather — and  ii 
must  be  remembered  that  the  time  \\ 
I'jigland  extended   from  November  l  .- 
of  January  !     Our  humble  meals,  too.  \\ 
mostly  out  of  doors,  and  they  ofti 
nothing  but  potatoes,  which  we  ba'^.-i  ... 
fire.      It  is  no  Wi>inler  that,  livini:  as  \vv  < 
wife  fell  ill,  and  so  delayed  us  ^\  e 

had  passetl  through   London,  ^  '\:       .    : 
ham,  and    Manchester,  anil  w.  '  "in 

Liverpool   when   this    oc( urn  miserable, 

tumbledown  hut  which   I   fo 

kind  of  shelter  ;  but  as  my  «...    ; 

I  could  not  leave  her  and  the  child  to  get  food, 
we  began  to  suffer  much  from  hunger,  which  made 
the  little  girl  cry  it  'ly.      However,  on  the 

third  (l;iv  T  snw'bv  iiance  a  d<ig  straying 


392 


THE    WIDE    WOREl)    MAGAZINE. 


,*sr 


ROASTED    HIS    PI.F.SH    OVER    A    KIKE. 


about  the  fields  near  us.  Hunger  knows  no 
law,  I  thought,  so  I  took  my  revolver  and  shot 
him,  and  then  roasted  his  flesh  over  a  fire  on  a 
stick.  The  water  we  drank  came  from  a  pond 
near  the  hut.  Those  were  among  the  darkest 
days  of  our  journey. 

After  this  involuntary  delay  we  reached 
Liverpool  and  there  took  ship  for  Ireland, 
landing  at  Dublin.  Here  I  started  to  push  the 
perambulator  to  Belfast.  From  thence  we 
crossed  once  more  to  Scotland,  visiting  Glasgow 
and  Edinburgh,  and  then  turned  our  faces  to 
the  south  again.  We  went  through  Newcastle 
to  Hull  and  there  took  leave  of  England. 

From  Hull  we  sailed  to  Hamburg,  and  a 
week  later  reached  Denmark,  where  we  spent 
the  first  week  of  February,  at  the  end  of  which 
we  arrived  at  Copenhagen.  From  here  we 
sailed  by  ship  to  Malmo,  in  Sweden,  and  passed 
through  Gothenburg  and  Christiania  on  our  way 
to  Stockholm.  I  had  hoped  to  do  Sweden  and 
Norway  in  four  to  five  weeks,  but  my  wife 
unfortunately  fell  sick  again  and  had  to  spend 
nearly  four  weeks  in  hospital.  I  employed  this 
time  in  earning  some  money  at  my  old  trade  of 
turner,  but  wlien  we  left  the  ship  which  had 
taken  us  from  Sweden  to  Stettin  in  Germany, 
in  the  middle  of  April,  1901,  I  had  no  more 
money  in  my  pocket  than  I  had  had  seven 
months  before  when  leaving  Vienna —that  is  to 
say,  none  at  all. 

Ikit  in  Germany  things  went  well  again. 
When  people  saw  tiie  inscrii)ti(jn  on  the  peram- 


bulalor  — "On  Foot  Round  luirope  "  —  they 
became  interested,  besieged  us  with  questions, 
and  readily  bought  our  pictorial  post-cards. 
Indeed,  they  often  gave  us  money  and  food 
without  being  asked.  This  enabled  us  to  renew 
our  clothes,  and  when,  on  the  i6th  of  May, 
1 90 1,  we  passed  the  Russian  frontier  (we  had 
in  the  meantime  travelled  througn  Berlin,  Brom- 
berg,  and  Konigsberg)  I  had  again  a  nice  little 
sum  in  my  purse. 

We  spent  more  than  ten  weeks  in  Russia, 
going  first  through  Riga  to  Reval,  and  thence 
by  boat  across  the  (julf  of,  Finland  to  Helsing- 
fors.  l''rom  here  we  walked  in  ten  days  to 
St.  Petersburg,  via  Wiborg.  After  a  short  stay 
there  I  pushed  the  "  pram "  through  Diina- 
burg,  Vilna,  and  Warsaw,  and  so  to  the 
German  frontier  again.  We  had  looked  for- 
ward to  the  Russian  part  of  the  journey  with  a 
certain  amount  of  anxiety,  but  we  got  through 
it  much  better  than  we  had  expected,  apart 
from  some  trouble  with  the  police  and  the 
gendarmes,  who  put  us  in  prison  more  than 
once  as  suspicious  characters.  In  Finland  the 
people  were  very  friendly,  and  the  Poles,  too, 
treated  us  well.  With  the  latter  my  knowledge 
of  the  Czech  language  enabled  me  to  make 
myself  understood.  But  the  treatment  we 
received  in  the  neighbourhood  of  St.  Peters- 
burg was  rather  bad. 

From  the  Russian  frontier  we  turned  our 
steps  towards  Breslau,  and  in  a  week  reached 
the    black   and   yellow    posts   which  mark  the 


ACROSS     KrUOl'l'.     IX     A     IM;kAM  lUIA  r(  )R. 


39: 


Aubtriaii  boundary.  llimgai)  was  our  next 
goal,  and  after  passing  Pressburg  we  reached 
Budapest  towards  the  end  of  August.  In  this 
country  we  suffered  great  want,  for  we  saw  httle 
of  the  boasted  Hungarian  hospitahty,  and  we 
went  hungry,  more  or  less,  all  the  way  to 
Belgrade. 

I  must  not  forget  to  mention  a  rather  serious 
adventure  which  we  encountered  shortly  before 
reaching  Budapest,  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Neuhiiusel,  in  Hungary.  One  hot  afternoon  I 
was  laboriously  pushing  the  perambulator  in 
front  ol  me,  while  the  child  and  my  wife  had 


by  the  outcry,  left  the  road  and  moved  off  into 
the  bushes  at  the  side.  If  I  liad  hit  and  only 
wounded  the  animal  (which  I  afterwards 
learned  had  escaped  from  a  menagerie)  we 
should  in  all  probability  have  been  torn  to 
pieces.  After  leaving  the  spot  I  kept  on  turning 
round  again  and  again  to  .see  if  the  l)east  were 
coming  after  us,  and  we  were  heartily  glad  when 
we  reached  a  village  in  safety  an  hour  later. 
We  often  spoke  afterwards  of  this  adventure, 
and  jokingly  said  that  the  tiger  had  not  cared 
about  attacking  us  because  we  had  not  enough 
tlesh  on  our  bones. 


"  I    KKMEMBEREn    MY    REVOI.VEK    ANO    DKEW    IT    FROM    MV    TOCKET. 


fallen  asleep,  when  there  suddenly  appeared 
right  in  front  of  u.s,  on  the  high  road,  a  large 
animal  which  I  almost  immediately  recognised, 
with  a  thrill  of  horror,  as  a  tiger  !  The  fright 
this  gave  me  I  shall  never  forget.  I  stood 
stock  still  for  several  seconds,  as  if  para- 
lyzed, unable  to  think  or  act,  and  stared 
helplessly  at  the  tiger,  which  walked  .slowly 
towards  us.  At  last  I  remembered  my  revolver, 
drew  it  from  my  pocket,  and  fired,  but  the  shot 
failed  to  liave  any  effect,  either  because  the 
aim  was  bad,  in  consequence  of  my  excite- 
ment, or  because  the  bullet  did  not  carry  far 
enough. 

At  this  critical  moment,  however,  my  wife 
and  child,  awakened  by  the  shot,  shrieked 
loud  and  long,  and  the  tiger,  somewhat   startled 

Vol.  X.-50. 


.,.} 


Krom  the  middle  of  September  till  the 
17th  of  November,  1901,  we  tramped  through 
Servia,  Bulgaria,  and  Koumania,  but,  as  the 
Turkish,  officials  would  not  allow  us  to  enter 
'i'urkey,     I    could     not     carry    out     my    plan 

of  journeying  to  Constantino  •'       ' 

ingly  turned   back  through   I'i      .  . 
and  Nish.     N\'e  traversed  the  whole 
and    after    passing    .Sarajevo    reached    i 
again    on    the    ist    of    December.      ^\  > 
enced    very    hard    times    in    the    w 
countries.     Hardly  anyth 
by  the  sale  of  our  pictori 
days   on   which  we  had  > 
count    on    my    fingers.       I  tv 
iniieed,  directly  ho- 
in   Bulgaria   and   .'~ 


an 


1  could 
ndly   and, 


394 


THI-:    WIDK    WORLD    MACA/.IXE. 


alarm  to  us.  Disputes  with  the  passers-by  were 
common  enough,  and  I  often  had  to  show  my 
revolver  before  I  could  get  rid  of  unpleasant 
characters.  In  this  part  of  the  world  it  was  the 
rule,  and  not  the  exception,  that  we  had  to 
pass  the  night  in  the  open,  protected  only  by 
our  blankets,  and  it  is  a  marvel  that  we  did  not 
all  become  ill,  for  the  nights  had  already 
become  bitterly  cold,  and  we  often  had  to  put 
up  with  the  addi- 
tional discomfort 
of  driving  rain 
and  even  snow. 

Our  way  now 
lay  through  Cro- 
atia to  Trieste. 
This  took  us  two 
weeks,  w  h  i  c  h 
passed  not  un- 
pleasantly. From 
Trieste  T.  pushed 
my  "  pram  "  past 
Venice,  Bologna, 
Florence,  and 
Rome  to  Naples, 
and  then  back 
again  once  more 
through  Rome  to 
L  i  V  o  r  n  o  and 
Genoa.  We  spent 
nine  weeks  alto- 
gether in  Italy. 
W'e  had  expected 
more  from  this 
beautiful  country, 
but  had  to  put  up 
with  want  of  food 
often  enough,  and 
I  used  sometimes 
to  push  my 
"pram"  the 
whole  day  with 
out  having  eaten 
more  than  a  bit 
of  dry  bread. 
The  following  ex- 
ample will  show  how  we  fared  in  Italy.  1 
knocked  one  day  at  the  door  of  a  monastery 
and  asked  for  some  sou|),  but  received  the  surly 
reply,  "We  have  no  alms  for  Austrians."  It 
often  happened,  too,  that  the  dogs  were  put  on 
us  to  drive  us  from  a  house  where  I  had  asked 
for  shelter  for  the  night. 

After  leaving  Italy  we  journeyed  along  the 
l-'rench  Riviera,  past  Toulon  and  Marseilles, 
and  on  the  2^th  of  I'ebruary  last  reached  the 
Spanish  frontier.  In  Spain  we  did  splendidly. 
As  we  crossed  the  Pyrenees  I  met  a  German 
who  could  speak  Spanish,  and  he  kindly  trans- 


'l    KKCtlVliU    DIE   .SUUl.V    M-.i  LV,    '  WIC    11A\K    .\0    ALMS    lOH    AL'Sl  HI  ANS, 


lated  the  inscription  on  my  perambulator — "  On 
Foot  Round  Europe  " — into  that  language.  I 
must  regard  this  man  as  a  regular  benefactor. 
Those  few  words  m  Spanish  were  sufficient  to 
awake  the  interest  of  the  people,  and  so  it  came 
about  that  those  who  had  hardly  enough  for 
themselves  readily  let  us  share  their  meals  and 
gave  us  shelter  for  the  night.  The  route  we 
took  led  us  through   Barcelona   and    IMadrid  to 

Lisbon,  from  Lis- 
bon through  Sala- 
manca and  Valla- 
dolid,  and  so  back 
to  France  again. 

We  took  our 
way  past  Toulouse 
and  Lyons  to 
Geneva.  This 
look  us  three 
weeks,  from  30th 
April  to  21  St  May. 
After  the  weeks  of 
prosperity  in  Spain 
ihese  seemed  but 
bad  times  to  us, 
and  it  happened 
often  enough  that 
we  had  to  spend 
a  night  in  the  local 
lock  -  up  for  want 
of  a  better  shelter. 
At  one  place  in 
the  'neighbour- 
hood of  Lyons  I 
crept,  together 
with  my  wife  and 
child,  into  the 
public  baking 
oven,  which  stood 
in  the  middle  of 
the  village,  and 
we  spent  the  night 
there  well  enough, 
I  h  o  u  g  h  next 
morning  we  were 
as  black  as  chim- 
ney -  sweepers.  In  another  place  we  slept 
excellently  in  the  churchyard,  in  the  tool-hut 
of  the  grave-digger.  Anyone  who  has  walked 
steadily  for  months  like  we  had  done  can  sleep 
anywhere,  even  in  a  churchyard. 

I'Vom  Geneva  I  pushed  my  perambulator 
tlirough  Switzerland,  passing  Lausanne,  Berne, 
and  Ziirich,  as  far  as  the  Lake  of  Constance, 
which  we  reached  on  loth  June,  and  one  month 
later  we  arrived  home  in  Vienna.  The  last  few 
weeks  took  us  over  the  Arlberg  Pass,  still  deep 
in  snow,  and  through  Carinthia  and  Styria,  and 
made  great  claims  on  our  endurance.     Even  in 


ACROSS    IClkOl'i:     1\     A     l'i:RAMl!LLArOR. 


our  own  (ouiiUv  wc  had  ufleii  to  go  lo  sleep 
hungry,  content  with  a  barn  for  a  slielter,  while 
the  almost  continual  rain  made  the  roads  terribly 
bad,  so  that  the  pushing  of  my  heavy  peramlni 
lator  was  fearfully  hard  work.  But  all  weariness 
and  exhaustion  were  forgotten  in  the  hearty 
and  enthusiastic  reception  which  the  i)eople  of 
\'ienna  gave  us. 

Hanslian  returned  to  Vienna  on  loth  July, 
1902,  and  so  was  only  twenty-two  months  on 
the  way,  and  as  during  this  time  he  had 
traversed  the  whole  of  the  route  prescribed, 
passing  through  a  score  of  countries  on  his  way, 
and  had  conii)lied  with  the  other  conditions,  he 
won  the  prize  of  two  thousand  dollars  offered 
by  his  wealthy  patron.  But  besides  this  he 
has  gained  the  glory  of  being  the  most  enduring 
pedestrian  in  Europe.  In  the  twenty-two  months 
his  journey  lasted  he  covered  a  distance  of  no 
fewer  than  fourteen  thousand  nine  hundred  and 
eighty  English  miles,  pushing  all  the  way  a 
perambulator  which  weighed,  with  its  occupants, 
about  thirty-five  stone.  That  it  is  a  truly 
wonderful  performance  will  be  evident  when 
one  remembers  that  the  journey  had  to  be  con- 
tinued in  all  kinds 
of  weather,  and 
that  the  heavy 
"  pram  "  had  often 
to  be  pushed  for 
days  or  weeks 
over  execrable 
roads  sometimes 
deep  in  snow. 

The  hero  of 
this  unique  per- 
formance is  now 
thirty-seven  years 
old.  He  is  of 
middle  height,  and 
no  one  would  sup- 
pose to  look  at 
him  that  he  could 
have  performed 
such  a  feat  of  en 
durance.  \\'hen 
he  reached  Vienna 
he  looked  sun 
burnt,  but  thin. 
and  his  face  was 
lined  with  dee|) 
furrow  s  ;     o  n  e 

could   see    without  From  a 


asking  that  he  had  met  with  gi...    ,  .ud 

that  a  journtfy  on  foot  through   1.'  ,ui 

money  is  no  trifling  undertaking.  ne 

he    wore    when     he    arrived    in     »  1.  im. 
sisled    of  a    pair    of    low    shoes — the    tl. 
pair    since    beginning    his  journey     a    pair  of 
bicycling   kni<:kerborkers    much    the  r<jr 

wear,  stockings,  a  sweater  which  bore anl 

marks  of  hard  usage,  and  a  cap.  Hanslian's 
arms,  which  projected  beyond  the  .sleeves  of 
the  sweater,  were  tanned  to  a  brown-red  by 
wind  and  sun  and  weather.  All  the  rest  of 
his  wardrobe  and  all  that  he  required  in  bad 
or  cold  Weather  were  carried  in  the  "  pram," 
where,  too,  were  stored  U{}  the  garments  of  his 
wife  and  child,  with  some  blankets  to  be  used 
when  it  was  necessary  to  bivouac  in  the  oix.*n, 
besides  a  store  of  provisions  and  some  cooking 
utensils. 

Frau  Hanslian's  face  also  betrayed  the  toils 
and  privations  which  were  endured  during  tliat 
twenty-two  months'  tramp.  But  in  contrast  to 
her  parents  the  six-year-old  girl  looked  round- 
cheeked  and  bright,  though  her  face  and  hands 
were  as  brown  as  those  of  a  gipsy  child. 
I'oldy,  as  she   is  called,  sat  almost  always  on 

her  mother's  la|>  in 

the  perambulator, 

so  she   had  none 

of  the  toils  of  the 

journey   and    was 

ible   to   enjoy  it, 

nd  during  all  that 

long  time  was  not 

once  ill.  This  was 

the  more  reniark- 

ible  as  the  weather 

during   most   of 

the    journey    was 

unfavourable. 

It  is  Hanslian's 
intention  to  go  to 
America,  where  he 
.ill  make  a  long- 
liistance  march 
Irom  New  N'urk 
i^ht    acro^ 

•t    to   h.in 

1 ,■,,     n, 

hnpt'S    ■ 


1  IIK   JUUKNKV. 


-.   in    n 
Ired  days. 


.d 

I  >  1  ■  c  u 

hun- 


Jhe  Ba1d\viiT-:^ie§1sr  3^o1ar  Sxpcdiftorr. 


By  E,   Brkigs  Baldwin. 


The  first  authoritative  account  of  the  work  of  this    important  expedition,  written  by  the  leader  of  the 

party.      Mr.   Baldwin    illustrates  his  narrative  with  some   particularly  striking   photographs,  which  will 

give  our  readers  a  vivid  idea  of  the  rigours  attending  exploration  work  in  the  ice-bound  Arctic. 


^J 


HEN  on  the  27th  of  July,  1901, 
the  steam  yacht  America,  of  the 
Baldwin -Ziegler  Polar  Expedition, 
left  the  northern  port  of  Vardoe,  in 
Norway,  on  her  voyage  of  explora- 
tion and  discovery  in  Franz  -  Josef  Land, 
there  were  not  a  few  who  expressed  doubt 
as  to  the  probability  of  the  safe  arrival  of 
the  yacht  at  her  intended  destination.  Her 
burden  of  coal  and  stores,  fifteen  .Siberian 
ponies,  more  than 
four  hundred  dogs, 
and  the  forty-two 
members  compos- 
ing the  expedition 
made  her  float 
very  deep  in  the 
water.  Moreover, 
the  heavy  cases  of 
acid  to  be  used  in 
the  generation  of 
hydrogen  gas  for 
the  balloons 
forced  her  nose 
unusually  low  into 
the  water,  while 
great  bales  of 
pressed  hay  for 
the  ponies  were 
piled  up  here  and 
there  and  every- 
where— along  the 
bulwarks  on  deck, 
in  the  space  abaft 
the  deck  cabin, 
high  amongst  the 
rigging  fore  and 
aft,  and  on  the 
very  bridge  itself. 
No  better  manner 
of  stowing  so 
large  and  so  vari- 
ous a  cargo  was 
possible,  consider- 
ing the  limited 
space   at   our  dis- 


JllirAN.NSliN,    O 

From  a   Photo,    by 
Copyright,  1903,  by  George  Newnes,  I.iiiiited. 


posal,  and  we  were  therefore  obliged  to  put  to 
sea  courting  the  smiles  of  Providence. 

Fain  would  we  have  replenished  our  coal 
supply  before  leaving  the  last  port  within  the  pale 
of  civilization,  but  this  could  not  now  be  done 
without  gravely  increasing  the  perils  incident  to 
manoeuvring  such  a  heavy  and  deep-laden  vessel 
amongst  the  pitiless  ice-floes  which  in  a  moment 
might  cut  right  through  her  sides  and  send  her 
to  the  bottom  like  a  stone.     Nevertheless,  we 

steamed  away  to 
the  north  with 
good  courage,  and 
soon  sunshine  and 
heat  gave  place  to 
the  fog  and  cold 
amid  which  we 
had  started. 

In  latitude 
7  6deg.  30m  in. 
north  we  met  the 
great  ice-pack, 
grey,  sullen,  and 
forbidding-look- 
ing. Two  and  a 
half  degrees  farther 
south  a  great  rag- 
ged tongue  of  the 
main  pack  had 
been  met  with, 
and  along  the 
western  edge  of 
this  we  steamed  in 
a  general  direc- 
tion toward  Cape 
Mora,  the  head- 
(luarters  of  the 
I'jiglisii  Jackson- 
I  larmsworth  Ex- 
pedition. 

Upon  meeting 
the  main  ice-field  a 
sharp  look-out  was 
m  a  i  n  t  a  i  n  e  d  in 
order  to  speak  any 
of  the  Norwegian 


II  I-     l.M'l   Mil'  '■ . 
V    THE    "  AMKKILA.' 

Watt  and  Sons,    Dundee. 


1  Mb     LI- 1    I 


Till':    r.Ai.hw  IN  /ii.(;i.i 


I'olAR     l..\l'l.l)iri()N. 


.V)7 


sealing  schootitrs  which  amuially  frequent  the 
Barents  Sea,  especially  that  portion  of  it  off  the 
south-eastern  coast  of  Spitzbcrgen.  There  are 
to  be  found  the  favourite  feeding  grounds  of 
walruses,  seals,  and  Polar  bears. 

One  day  we  chanced  to  speak  one  of  these 
schooners  whose  skipper  had  received  no  home 
news  since  the  early  part  of  April.  He  and  his 
brother — the  skipper  of  a  similar  craft  — had  not 
heard  of  each  other  since  separating  for  the 
chase  amongst  the  ice-floes.  It  was  our  sad 
duty  to  inform  him  of  the  tragic  death  of  that 
brother.  While  in  the  pursuit  of  game  the 
accidental  discharge  of  a  rifle  had  caused  his 
instant  death,  whereupon  his  companions  at 
once  returned  to  Norway,  where  we  had  learned 
the  news  which  we  now  broke  as  gently  as 
possible  to  his  relative. 

Still  later,  when  far  within  the  ice-plains,  we 
met  a  third  schooner,  a  tiny,  helpless-looking 
little  craft  with  waves  and  floes  leaping  up  and 
down  around  it.  Nevertheless  we  had  faith  in 
the  skill  and  courage  of  her  skipper,  and  en- 
trusted to  him  our  last  messages.  We  then 
parted  company  with  mutual  good  wishes,  and 
forced  our  way  farther  northward  into  the  pack, 
dense    fog    eventually   checking   our   progress. 


chained    upon    the    forecastle    deck,  ,:c 

obliged  to  remove  them  hastily  to  the  main 
deck,  in  order  that  they  might  not  be  carried 
into  the  .sea.  Fortunately,  however,  after  round- 
ing a  number  of  threatening  ice-mas.ses  the 
America  escaped  into  smooth  water.  'Ihat  the 
tiny  ship  by  which  we  had  dispatched  our  lett.  rs 
likewise  weathered  the  storm  safely  we  Uarmd 
more  than  a  year  later. 

After  this  storm  our  sturdy  Ar(.iic  yacht  at 
length  succeeded  in  finding  a  long,  narrow 
openin;;  leading  northward  toward  our  first 
destination  in  Franz-Josef  Land.  This  consisted 
of  a  series  of  small  open-water  areas  united 
by  short,  narrow  leads,  or  "  straits,"  between 
enormous  ice-floes  Oftentimes  there  was  barely 
room  enough  for  the  ship  to  pass  from  one 
water-space  to  the  next  one.  Sometimes,  too, 
this  could  only  be  effected  by  waiting  for  tide 
or  current  or  wind,  to  separate  the  ice  and  widen 
the  passage.  During  such  delays  we  employed 
our  time  in  shifting  coal  into  the  bunkers  and 
in  replenishing  our  tanks  with  fresh  water,  cf 
which,  on  our  Arctic  ark,  we  were  obliged  to 
have  a  large  cjuantity  both  for  ourselves  and  the 
dogs  and  ponies. 

This   photo,   shows    the  America   stuck   fast 


/'  r  o/it  a\ 


AM1.KII.A 


si  Li-K    I- A.--  i     1 


1111^    .<I.U.' 


Then  followed,  a  few  hours  later,  a  wind-storm 
of  such  violence  that  heavy  ice-cakes  rose  and 
fell  upon  one  another  with  a  rumbling,  growling 
noi.se  terrible  to  hear.  Heavy  seas  threatening 
to  sweep  away  such  of  the  dogs  as  had  been 


in  the  main  pack.  In  the  foreground  arc  two 
fresh-water  pools,  formed  by  the  melting  of 
snow  and  ice  on  the  surface  of  the  floe.  This 
water  is  pumped  by  hand  from  the  pool  thron^li 
a  long  rubber  tube   leading  over  the  bulwarks 


39^^ 


THl'     WlDi:    WORLD    MA(iAZINE. 


and  tlit.nce  into  the  tanks.  Great  care  was 
necessary  in  selecting  pools  in  which  the  water 
was  free  from  salt,  or  else  sickness,  if  not  death, 
almost  invariably  followed.  Such  ice-ponds, 
however,  are  not  always  at  hand,  and  then  it 
becomes  necessary  to  obtain  ice  from  a  berg — 
if  one  can  be  found  and  then  melt  it.  The 
water  from  such  a  source  is  always  fresh.  But 
even  these  resources  were  not  available  at  all 
points,  and  in  consequence  of  the  use  of 
brackish  water  more  than  thirty  of  our  dogs 
sickened  and  died  before  the  Atnerica  came 
to  anchor  in  her  winter  harbour.  This  was 
at  Camp  Ziegler,  which  we  established  on  the 
south-eastern  extremity  of  a  small  island  six 
miles   in    length    by    two    in    width,    in    north 


slii].).  One  of  iIk  three  portable  houses  had 
been  put  together,  the  dogs  were  made  fast  to 
long  whale-lines  round  and  about  the  camp, 
while  the  ponies  were  allowed  to  go  at  liberty. 
The  third  hut  had  already  been  put  up  on  the 
south-western  extremity  of  the  island,  and  was 
known  as  West  Camp  Ziegler. 

Owing  to  the  number  of  icebergs  and  floes 
which  ever  and  anon  threatened  the  safety  of 
the  yacht  at  this  point,  it  was  decided  not  to 
establish  the  main  head-quarters  of  the  expedi- 
tion on  the  south-west  corner  of  the  island  as 
first  intended,  but  to  place  it  six  miles  farther 
east.  Moreover,  the  "  landing "  at  the  east 
camp  was  ideal,  as  shown  on  the  next  page. 
The  ice-foot,  which   terminated  abruptly  in  the 


From  a] 


ESTABLISHING    THE    WINTEU    QUARTERS   OF    THE    EXPEDITION    AT   CAMP   ZIEGI-ER. 


[Photo. 


latitude  8odeg.  23min.,  and  east  longitude 
about  56deg.  symin. 

The  above  photo,  illustrates  the  establishing 
of  this  camp  as  the  main  head-quarters  of  the 
expedition.  The  yacht  had  been  moored  to 
the  renmant  of  a  stranded  iceberg  on  her  port 
bow,  while  her  stern  was  within  three  or  four 
rods  of  the  land  itself.  The  keel  of  the  vessel 
astern  rested  upon  a  sand  bottom  formed  at 
this  point  by  the  discharge  of  a  small  stream 
which  flows  during  midsummer  down  the 
eastern  declivities  of  the  island. 

The  winter  berth  of  the  America.,  resting  as 
.she  was  upon  land,  water,  and  ice,  could  not, 
upon  general  principles,  be  said  to  have  been 
ideal.  One  was  never  certain  that  some  move- 
ment in  the  sea-ice  might  not  force  her  still 
farther  upon  the  land  and  so  unbalance  her  as 
to  render  living  on  board  impossible.  Camp 
Ziegler  was  only  three  hundred  paces  from  the 


water,  greatly  facilitated  the  discharging  of  our 
cargo.  Here  it  was  that  the  America  finally 
came  to  anchor  for  the  winter  on  the  12th  of 
October,  1901,  and  she  was  completely 
"  frozen  in "  five  days  later,  on  which  date 
the  sun  disappeared,  not  to  be  seen  again 
for  one  hundred  and  thirty  days. 

For  sixty  days  preceding  the  dropping  of 
anchor  for  the  winter  at  Cami)  Ziegler  the 
America  had  vainly  endeavoured  to  find  a  way 
farther  north.  The  British  Channel- -which 
two  years  previous  was  open  early  in  August 
and  permitted  the  Italian  I^xpedition,  under  the 
Duke  of  the  Abruzzi,  to  steam  even  beyond  the 
eighty-second  parallel — remained  heavily  blocked 
this  year  with  ice  throughout  the  whole  of  the 
month  of  August.  This  was  equally  true  of 
Markham  Sound  ;  while  the  ice  in  that  portion 
of  Austria  Sound  between  Hall  Island  and 
Wilczek  Land  remained  as  impregnable  as  in 


tin:    iiAi.DW  i\ /ii:(;i  1  k    I'oi.AK    i:.\l'i:i>Iiio\ 


^00 


the  dead  of  wintLi.  ( )n  the  j^th  of  August  the 
supply  steamer  took  her  departure  for  5s'orway, 
taking  with  her  a  large  number  uf  hear  skins 
and  walrus  hides.  Vor  more  than  a  month 
after  this  date  the  A/uerica  continued  hor 
endeavours    to    penetrate   the  ice  of  Markham 


fourth  and  last  vain  attempt  t(  •"  > 

into  Austria  Sound  was  mad< 
fruitless  effort  to  get   north    by   ilial 
attem[)t   was  made  to  round  the  ea>,i  . 
Salm  Island  and  Wihv.ek  Land.     One  da. . 
close  to  the  former,  our  heavily  burdened  ship 


^  \^  W  W,  ,->^ft>^.  k^^W/A^JH  M7iM  M.^  -'  ^^•^^H'A)A  ^V lU  ^^T->l^] 


I    Ml-,       lv.1-,-1    . 

/''rot!'.  a\ 


and  Austria  Sounds,  and  at  length  succeeded 
in  crossing  the  former,  which,  in  that  portion 
lying  to  the  north-west  of  Alger  Island,  had 
gradually  become  clear  of  ice.  Fourteen  distinct 
efforts  were  made  before  the  attempt  resulted 
in  success. 

One  day,  while  forcing  the  yacht  against 
heavy  ice,  the  stock  of  one  of  the  main  anchors 
hanging  low  against  the  bow  was  broken,  and 
we  were  thus  left  with  only  one  reliable  anchor. 
After  a  time,  however,  a  new  stock  was  in- 
geniously improvised  from  one  of  the  spare 
davits,  and  the 
accompanying 
photo,  shows 
the  engine- 
room  depart- 
m  e  n  t  e  m  - 
ployed  upon 
this  very  im- 
portant piece 
of  work.  Con- 
t  e  m  por  a  n  e- 
ously  with  our 
struggles  to 
break  through 
the  ice  we  effec- 
ted the  capture 
of seventeen  large 
seals,  several 
bears,  and  half- 
a-dozen  large 
walruses.  On 
the  23rd  of 
September      a 


THE   E.N'GINE-ROOM    STAFF    MAKING    A 

From  a  rhoto. 


ran    amuck    among 
rocks  and  remained 

aground  for  several  hours.  Not  until  a  portion 
of  the  cargo  had  been  shifted  and  high  tide  had 
come  was  it  possible  to  clear  her.  In  this  .same 
locality  thirty  years  previous  the  Tei^ct/iof,  the 
discovery  ship  of  the  Austro- Hungarian  Expedi- 
tion, got  aground  and  remained  fast  until  broken 
up  by  the  relentless  grip  of  the  ice,  which  held 
her  upon  the  rocks  until  long  after  the  depai 

ture  for  civili- 
zation of  the 
brave  e  .\  - 
plorers. 

Our  next 
i  1 1  u  strat  ion 
was  taken  at 
the  south- 
western cx- 
tremitv  "f  ^^ 
C  I  i  n 

Island,    a     rc- 
markah' 
of      b 
wh  io  li 


!       Dillon,    of 

N  e  w   \'  o  r  k . 

This  photo, 
also  shows  a 
few    of   the 

characteristic 


400 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


forms  of  icebergs  which  are  ahiiost  always  to  be 
met  with  off  the  south  coast  of  McCHnlock 
Island,  drifting  to  and  fro  from  east  to  west  with 
each  change  of  tide  and  current.  Off  the  south- 
eastern extremity  of  this  same  island  is  an  islet 
near  which  are  the  dangerous  submerged  rocks 
upon  which  the  Cape/la 
nearly  went  aground  in  the 
summer  of  1899. 
Theaccom[)anying  photo. 


{/'/to  to. 


In  the  background  are  shown  the  glaciers  and 
cliffs  forming  the  north  coast  of  the  Sound. 
To  the  eastward  of  this  line  of  cliffs  there 
extended  a  wide  belt  of  thick,  hard  ice, 
through  which  it  was  impossible  to  break  a 
way — at  least  without  extravagant  expenditure 
of  our  precious  coal.  The  use  of  both 
dynamite  and  gunpowder  at  this  point  proved 
also   to   be   of  little  advantage.     The   loth  of 

October  still  found  the  ice 
unbroken  among  the 
islands  to  the  northward  of 
Markham  Sound,  and  two 


depicts  the  conditKjn  of 
.Markham  Sound  during 
the  closing  days  of  Sep- 
tember, 1 901.  It  shows 
that  portion  of  the  Sound 
lying  to  the  north-west  of  Alger  Island,  or  perhaps 
more  properly  to  tiie  northof  Aberdare  Channel. 


From  a]     oti-.N  uAiiiK  i.s  makkiiam  sound.       [P/ioto. 


(lays  later  we  dropped 
anchor  for  tlie  winter  at 
CampZiegler.  The  follow- 
ing night  a  violent  storm 
arose.  Too  little  cable 
having  been  paid  out,  the  anchor  dragged.  The 
wind  howled  fiercely  in  the  rigging  and  the  waves 


THi:   liAi.Dw  in/ii:(;i.i:k    polar   Kxi'Ki»irn»N 


\^\ 


struck  heavily  on  the  purt  side  of  the  labouring 
ship.  The  tlarkness  of  the  ni^ht  was  intense 
and  we  knew  not  wiiere  we  were,  till  suddenly 
huge,  grey  fornis  appeared  like  overwhelmini; 
spectres  round  about  us.  The  .li/ieriiii  had  lte<  ti 
driven  right  amongst  a  fleet  of  icebergs  !  With 
one  of  these  we  momentarily  expected  to  collide; 
not  a  man  but  e\|)jcted  death.  J'resently  there 
rame  a  cry  from  the  forecastle  deck:  "The 
cnain's  broke  and  the  anchor's  gone,  sir!"  Then. 
"  Full  speed  ahead,"  went  the  order  to  the  engine- 
room,  while  Porter  and  myself  sent  the  wheel 
"  hard-a-starbonrd,"  all  the  others  having  gone 
forward  for  the  pur[)ose  of  heaving  in  tiie 
anchor— now,  of  course,  at  the  bottom.  All 
night  we  steamed 
slowly  and  cautiously 
about,  with  difficulty 
keeping  clear  of  the 
masses  of  ice  which 
menaced  us  on  every 
1  '  1.  Fortunately, 
'  .lad  ordered  a  light 
.0  be  kept  burning 
at  the  window  of  the 
little  iiut  on  shore, 
and  this  served  as  a 
most  welcome  beacon 
till  the  twilight  of  the 
next  day,  when  the 
America  was  moored 
to  the  stranded  ice- 
berg in  the  harbour 
as  already  described. 
'I'he  surface  of  the 
sea  now  froze  with 
such  rapidity  that  we 
were  "  frozen  in  "  be- 
fore the  sniling-mnster 
had  an  0[)porlunity  to 
turn  the  ship  about 
so  as  to  rest  with  her  head  toward  the  land. 
The  iceberg,  therefore,  served  as  our  winter 
anchor. 

In  one  of  the  huts  of  Camp  Ziegler  lived 
seven  of  our  party  — tlv)se  whose  duty  it  was  to 
watch  and  care  for  the  ponies  and  dogs.  This 
was  no  small  task — especially  the  peace-making 
part  of  it— for  deadly  encounters  among  the 
dogs  were  of  frequent  occurrence.  Most  untor 
tunately,  ere  the  Arctic  night  began  al)Out  sixty 
of  these  useful  draught  animals  died  frmn  the 
ravages  of  internal  parasites,  an  1  before  the 
s|)ring  sledging  began  more  than  half  the  pack 
had  disappeared. 

The    presence    of   so    many    noisy    creatures 

doubtless  had  much   to  do  in  keeping  our  camp 

clear  of  bears.      Nevertheless  they  occasionally 

visited  us.     On  one  occasion  an  enormous  brute 

Vol.  X.-51. 


From  a] 


1  1 1 1 .    L  I-..  ■- 1 


walked  deliberately   up   ;-  '■     '   •■   '- 

lying  near  the  hul  and,  1. 
men,  and  boat.s,  stood  leisurely 
food  intended  for  the  dogs   until  .1 
bullet  crashed    through    his   i>r.nii   an. 
flat  upon   his  stomach.     This  impudent 
man  is  shown  in  the  next  ; 

In  course  (jf  time   we   I  .  v ...j  of 

the  dogs  had  evidently  been  trained  to  hunt 
bears,  and  they  were  therefore  d<  I  as  the 

•'bear  dogs."  One  of  these  was  n.mi'  <i  ''Jack- 
son "  by  his  master  and  driver.  He  was  not 
only  fond  of  sport,  but  also  of  work,  and  did 
ratlier  more  than  his  share  when  pulling  in  the 
traces.     One  day   Mr.    Fi.ffingwell  and    I    gave 

chase  to  a  large  bear, 
which  fled  into  an 
ice-cave  beneath  the 
face  of  a  glacier. 
Right  into  the  cave 
after  hi  m  w  e  n  t 
"Jackson,'  down  an 
almost  per|)endicular 
descent  of  fifteen  feet. 
\\<i  ex[)ected  to  hear 
the  bear  tear  him 
into  piece.s,  but  the 
nimble  dog  proved 
too  quick  fi)r  old 
Uruin,  and  eluded 
every  attempt  upon 
his  life.  A  lui  ky 
shot  from  my  rifle 
presently  killed  the 
l)ear  instantly  and 
"  Jackson  "  was  ri  > 
cued.  A  few  weeks 
later,  however,  he 
lost  his  life,  to  our 
great  sorrow.  A 
large  bear  having 
approached  the  .ship,  "Jackson"  and  another 
dog  were  .sent  out  to  hold  him  at  l»ay 
until  .Mr.  Hergendahl,  Lucas,  and  myself  could 
arrive  with  the  rifles.  I\)r  a  time  tl- 
|)layed  their  part  well,  but  ere  we  ani. 
our  firearms  the  bear  had  reached  a 
water  space.  Into  this  he  threw  hiin.seli  and 
m.ade  good  his  escape.  Hut  "  Jark.son "'  was 
nowhere  to  be  seen  !  W'c  had  in<t  con- 
cluded that  he  had  dis;ip|K'ared  a 
neighbouring  ice-luimmo.  ' 
well  arrived  and  came  u, 
of  his  favourite  dog,  crushed  to  death  by  the 
bear's  jaws,  floating  in  the  water  between  two 
blocks  of  ic 

The  dan.  .  autumn  navigation  over,  the 

expedition    .settled    down  wtirk    for 

the  winter.    This  embraccu  i'>uKini;  corn-meal 


4^2 


'rHK     WIDl-:    WORLD     MACA/IXK. 


(Indian  maize),  mush  for  the  dogs,  caring  for 
the  ponies,  sledging  large  quantities  of  ice  from 
neighbouring  bergs  in  order  to  obtain  our  fresh 
water  by  melting  the  ice  on  board,  taking 
regular  meteor6logical  and  astronomical  obser- 
vations, photographing  by  moonlight  and  flash- 
light, sketching  and  painting,  tailoring,  making 
tents,  enlarging  the  fur  sleeping-bags,  re[)airing 
and  making  sledges,  etc.  The  following 
photo,     illustrates   a   phase    of   our    active    life 


the  typewiiter  is  Assistant-Secretary  Dickson, 
who  has  joined  the  force  who  are  plaiting  sennit, 
with  which  the  loads  are  to  be  lashed  to  the 
sledges.  Beside  Mr.  Dickson,  on  the  sofa  just 
beneath  the  library,  are  Messrs.  Vedoe  and 
Vinyard,  while  beneath  the  engraving  of  Pre- 
sident ^V'ashington  are  Doctors  Seitz  and 
De  Bruler.  Hanging  above  the  portrait  of 
Washington  is  one  of  the  antlers  of  a  large 
reindeer  picked   up   by  the  author  on  a  small 


/■rout  n I 


WINTER   WORIC    IN    TIIK    DIXK    CAIilN  — JRt.l'ARI.Ni;    l-OR    THE    SLKUCE    JOUK.NKVs 


[i'hoto. 


) 


\ 


during  the  long  spell  of  darkness  and  in- 
tense cold  which  now  awaited  us.  i'he 
picture  shows  the  interior  of  the  "office"— that 
is.  the  deck  cabin,  which,  as  the  work  of  pre- 
paring for  sledging  enlarged,  was  converted  into 
a  veritable  workshoj).  In  order  to  save  the  coal 
for  navigation  and  tiie  petroleiun  for  use  on  the 
sledge  journeys,  our  electric  lights  and  petroleum 
lamps  gave  way  to  candles  and  blubber-lamps, 
as  may  be  seen  i)y  examining  the  articles  on  the 
table.  The  black  appearance  of  the  erstwhile 
wliite  walls  of  the  cabin  was  cau.sed  by  the 
smoke   from   the   blubber   flames.      In    front   of 


island  to  the  westward  of  Alger  Island.  In 
front  of  Dr.  De  Ikuler  sits  Meteorologist  Ixjth, 
while  the  Duridee  whale-line  from  which  the 
sennit  is  being  made  is  in  evidence  in  every  part 
of  the  room. 

Not  only  were  the  dogs  abundantly  ici\  and 
shelters  built  for  their  protection  and  a  watch- 
man employed  constantly  among  them,  but 
they  were  given  conscientious  medical  atten- 
tion as  well.  Nevertheless,  as  I  have  said, 
more  than  lialf  the  pack  succumbed  ere 
the  return  of  the  sun — a  serious  loss  to  the 
expedition. 


( To  be  cotidmted.) 


The    Trouble    at    Kambakhlporc. 

IIV    A.     R.MIKAV. 

An   amusing    incident    related    by    an    Indian    police-official.     An    audacious    robbery    perpetrated    by    a 
band    of    dacoits    at    a     remote     village,     and     a     threatening     letter     addressed     to    the    native    in- 
spector,   threw    the     local     police      into    such      a     condition    of     nervous      agitation     that      a      curioua 
accident  which   happened  one   night    gave  rise  to  a  most  ludicrous  situation. 


^S  tlicre  was  a  ii;iti\c  ])(>lic(.- iiis[)cctor 
ill  charge  at  Kamliakhtpore  I  felt 
tlun-  would  be  no  need  for  me  to 
^o  out  to  personally  investigate  the 
dacoity*  which  was  reported  to  have 
occurred  there.  News  of  this  was  already 
circulating  in  the  bazaar,  although  no  official 
information  had  reached  me.  It  was  the  hottest 
period  of  the  warm  weather,  just  before  the 
break  of  the  monsoon,  and  I  was  glad  to  be 
saved  the  sultry  fifty-inile  drive.  In  the  course 
of  the  day,  however,  I  received  the  following 
letter  from  my  inspector,  which  quite  upset  my 
comfortable  anticipations  :    - 

"  Kambakhtpore. 
"  Honoured  Sir,  It  is  with  a  faltering  pen- 
manship that  I  ha\e  to  inform  your  honour  that 
dacoity  been  conmiitted  last  night  at  house  of 
(iunga  Din,  shopkeeper.  Having  pain  m 
stomach  I  was  unable  to  catch  evil-minded 
dacoits.  For  same  reason  —viz.,  pain  m  stomach 
— I  am  unable  to  i)ursue  investigations.  I 
enclose  certificate  from  apothecary-babu,  show- 
ing that  doubtless  my  stomach  is  morbifically 
inclined  under  Police  Regulation  XXH.,  sec- 
tion 3,  sub-section  A.  Head-constable  tell  all 
about  dacoity.  Police  have  letter  written  by 
anonyma,  but  supposed  by  dacoits.  Head- 
constable  will  show.  May  your  honour  make 
all  serene  through  you  noble  courage  and  come 
up  smiling  like  Jonah  out  of  inside  of  whale. 
And,  as  in  duly  bound,  I  shall  ever  pray.  —  I 
have  the  honour  to  be,  sir,  your  most  obedient 
servant,  "  Sh.\di  Lall,  Inspector." 

There  was  nothing  for  it  but  for  me  to  go 
to  Kambakht]:ore  myself  and  "pursue  investiga- 
tions" in  place  of  the  afflicted  ins[)ector.  So  I 
arranged  to  start  as  soon  as  the  "  dak  "  could  be 
laid  out,  which  operation  consisted  in  sending 
on  overnight  relays  of  ponie.s,  so  that  at  every 
ten  miles  or  thereabouts  I  might  tind  a  fresh 
animal  with  whicii  to  drive  on  to  the  next  stage. 
It  was  very  hc^t  when  I  set  out  for  Kam 
bakhtpore  next  morning,  but  I  was  glad  to 
observe  that  .several  of  those  heralds  of  the 
rains,  the  adjutant  birds,  or  great  Indian  storks, 
had  arrived,  and  were  collected  about  the 
margins  of  such  ponds  and  streams  as  had  not 
altogether  dried  up.  Their  arrival,  I  knew,  was  a 
sure  sign    that   the   anxiously-awaited   monsoon 

*  .\  liurgl.-iry  or  rol>I)cry. 


was  not  far  off.  Hot  and  du^t  -  cov.-.-l 
I  reached  the  dak  bungalow,  or  rest-h' 
about  midday,  and  was  received  with  a  very- 
good  imitation  of  a  military  salute  by  the  half- 
dozen  or  so  constables  who  awaited  my  arrival. 
They  seemed  embarrassed  at  my  inquiry  about 
the  welfare  of  t!ie  invalid  inspector.  One  of 
them  unsuccessfully  struggled  with  a  broad  grin 
which  overspread  his  hot  and  shining  features, 
and  the  head-constable,  who  could  s[)eak  a  little 
English,  hitching  his  white  trousers,  grave. y 
reported,  "  The  ins()ector-bahu  still  got  [xain 
inside."' 

I  spent  the  rest  of  the  day  in  iiixcaigamig  the 
evidence  about  the  dacoity.  I  found  that  a 
one-eyed  desperado,  named  Ali  Khan,  was 
supposeil  to  have  been  the  leading  spirit  in  the 
affair.  He  and  his  friends  had  conducted  it  on 
lines  of  oftentimes  proved  efficacy.  They  had 
first  dug  a  hole  in  the  mud  wall  enclosing 
the  various  huts  which  formed  (lunga  Dins 
residence,  and  one  of  the  gang,  entering 
thereby,  had  opened  the  gate  to  the  rest.  The 
robbers  then  made  for  the  worthy  tradesman  i 
bedroom.  It  happened  that  the  old  man  and 
his  son  were  both  sleeping  there  that  night  and 
the  latter  resisted  the  intruders,  wounding  one  ol 
them  with  a  s[)ear,  whereupon  he  was  speedily 
knocked  down  senseless.  (lunga  Din,  for  his 
[)art,  restricted  his  own  efforts  to  rolling  himself 
up  in  his  bedclothes  and,  in  the  intervals  of 
half-smothered  groans  and  vern.icular  ejacula 
tions  indicative  of  a  troubled  mind,  calling 
upon  his  various  gods  to  come  to  his  aid. 
His  half-inanimate  body  had  been  shoved 
aside,  and  while  three  of  the  gang  guard-d 
him — one  sitting  on  his  head,  another 
his  stomach,  and  a  thiril  on  his  feet  me 
remainder  dug  up  the  ground  where  his  bed  had 
been  laid,  and  where,  according  to  immemorial 
Indian  custom,  his  money  was  buried.  After 
securing  this  they  tietl  and  gagged  (ainga  Din 
and  his  son,  and,  with  a  final  volley  of  hoi  rid 
imprecations  and  ominous  warnings  on  the 
retribution  which  would  foil"  rommii--    ■ 

tion    with   the  police,  they   i.   .  Hy 

apparently,  of  em|)hasi/.ing  these  admonitions, 
they  had  sent  Ciuiiga  Din  an  anonymous  letter 
of  a  most  vitriolic  chara> '<  '  H.  r<-  is  tlie 
translation  : 

"  We  send  thee  our  salaams,  and  would  liave 
thee  untKistand,  thou  sfjuat  toad,  that  we  keep 


404 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZlNli. 


THE  SON-  RKSIStEl)  TIIK    I  N  TKUDF.RS. 


thee  in  remembrance,  bolli 
thee  and  thy  son  who  dared 
to  hft  his  hand  against  the 
person  of  a  true  believer  We  will  stutV  thee  and 
thy  fry  with  gunpowder  and  blow  thee  u[),  and  this 
shall  be  done  very  shortly.  As  for  that  corpulent 
one,  the  police  inspector,  we  will  roast  him  in 
his  own  fat  if  he  seeks  to  trouble  us  and  sets 
the  sahibs  upon  us.  Let  him  remain  at  home 
in  peace,  lest  evil  befall  him.  It  is  written  : 
'O  true  believers!  Consider  these  infidels,  how 
they  wax  fat  in  idleness,  whilst  you,  O  true 
believers,  toil  for  a  handful  of  parched  grain. 
Surely  this  thing  is  an  atjomination.     Amen.'" 

'I'his  letter  had  so  depressinii  an  effect  on  the 
unhappy  tradesman  that  he  felt  inclined  to  sup- 
press all  news  of  the  burglary  and  bear  his  loss 
in  silence.  But  he  was  overruled  by  his  more 
energetic  son,  and,  after  much  anxious  delibera- 
tion, the  police  were  comiiuimcated  with.  I 
thought  I  saw  in  the  letter  an  explanation  of  the 
inspector's  sudden  illness.  I  suspected  that  he, 
too,    had   been   sorely  troubled   in   spirit   by   its 


perusal,  and  had  straightway  fallen  sick  from 
sheer  fright.  He  was,  therefore,  likely  to 
remain  an  invalid  until  the  storm-clouds 
had  definitely  rolled  by,  so  to  s[)t  ak,  and 
the  demeanour  of  the  constables  who  had 
received  me  on  my  arrival  showed  that  they 
had  their  suspicions  of  the  true  condition 
of  their  superior  ofhcer.  It  by  no  means 
follows,  hov>ever,  that  he  fell  in  their 
esteem  ;  tolerant  good-humour  was  probably 
all  that  his  frailties  evoked  in  their  minds. 

It  was  evening  before  I  returned  to  the 
bungalow.  With  the  lengthening  shadows 
the  country-side  had  re-awakened  into  life 
and  activity  after  the  rest  and  silence  im- 
posed by  the  fierce  heat  of  an  Indian 
summer  day.  Women  carrying  large  brass 
or  earthenware  pitchers  on  their  heads 
"athered  at  the  village  well,  and  launhed 
and  gossiped  as  they  drew  ui^  their  su[jply 
of  water.  A  herd  of  buffaloes  under  the 
i'S'^,  charge  of  a  small  boy  returned  lazily  along 
a  dusty  road  to  their  pen  in  the  \illage. 
\\'alking  clumsily  in  the  water,  or  by  the  side 
of  a  large  tank  or  pond,  were  five  or  six 
of  the  great  adjutant  birds,  ever  and  anon 
grubbing  in  the  shallows  for  worms.  In  the 
growing  dusk  their  great  white  bodies 
seemed  extended  to  giant  size,  and  their 
long  beaks,  with  the  shimmer  of  the  water 
upon  them,  had  the  aspect  of  formidable  steel 
poniards. 

As  the  weather  was  oppressively  hot  I  decided 
to  sleep  out  on  the  flat  roof  of  the  little  one- 
storied  bungalow,  and  accordingly  had  the 
necessary  ai)paratus  carried  up.  The  staircase, 
by  the  way,  was  on  the  outside  ot  the  Iniilding, 
constructed  on  arches  against  the  wall. 

An  inexplicable  nervousness  came  upon  my 
people  as  night  fell.  The  venerable  Kurreem 
Buksh,  the  khansameh,  or  butler,  who  could 
recount  tales  of  "  Lat  Clive  Sahib  ''  and 
"Warren  Istinks  Sahib,'"  received  at  first  hand 
from  his  grandfather,  was  ill  at  ease  at  dinner, 
and  did  not  even  smile  when  I  asked  him 
whether  the  mangled  form  which  appeared  in  the 
chicken  curry  was  that  of  the  j^roud  and  aged 
bird  I  had  seen  strutting  about  the  premises  on 
my  arrival.  He  had  probably  heard  the  little 
joke  from  generations  of  sahibs,  but  the  smile  of 
welcome  for  an  old  friend  had  never  hitherto 
been  absent.  The  head-constable  somewhat 
anxiously  incjumd  how  many  sentries  I  should 
like  to  have  placed  out.  I  was  doubtful 
whether  this  apparent  alarm  proceeded  solely 
Irom  nervousness  at  the  known  adventurous 
characti'r  of  the  oneeyi'd  ,\li  Khan,  or  whether 
they  knew  of  something  definile  which  lluy 
were    unwilling    to    tell    me.      The  reserve   and 


THIC      TKOL'IU.K     A  I      KAM  DAK  1 1  I  I't  »l< 


405 


reticence  of  the  iintive  mind  are  liard  to 
penetrate.  I  inclined  on  the  whole  to  the 
view  that,  like  the  "invalid"  inspector,  they 
were  in  a  state  of  nervous  terror.  I  resolved, 
however,  to  keep  my  revoher  near  at  hand  in 
case  of  need. 

I  settled  mysell  after  dinner  in  a  long  cane- 
chair  to  read  the  last-arrived  batch  of  English 
papers,  with  a  camp  lantern  on  a  table  beside 
me.  The  night  was  very  dark,  anil  I  noticed 
how  clearly  some  lights  in  the  village  shone  in 
contrast  with  the  black  gloom.  A  subdued 
munuur  of  conversation  came  from  my  people 
below,  mingled  with  the  giugling  sound  of  their 
"  hubble-bubbles  "  or  hookahs,  that  ever-present 
solace  to  a  native.  Presently  the  blood-curdling, 
maniacal  shrieks  of  a  pack  of  jackals  rose  on 
the  night  air  from  some  thicket  close  at  hand, 
and  were  answered  like  an  echo  by  the  voices  of 
a  more  distant  pack.  IJeing  under  a  mosquito 
curtain  I  was^protected  from  the  insects  attracted 
bv  my  lamp,  round  which  they  circled  in  a 
resonant  swarm. 

1  suppose  it  was  due  to  the  slight  reduction  of 
the  temperature  which  came  about  as  the  night 
wore  on  —I  dare  not  say  it  was  the  soporific  in- 
fluence of  the  newspapers— -but  I  dozed  off  into 
a    state     between 
sleeping   and 
waking.      T  h  e 
lamp  by  my  side 
and    the   murmur 
of    the     insects 
about  it  faded  out 
of  consciousness, 
and  presently  the 
whole  universe 
seemed  to  resolve 
itself   into  a   soli- 
tary watchful  eye 
observing  me  out 
of  an    infinite 
abyss  of  darkness. 
1  looked  hard  at 
it.    "Certainly,"  T 
said     to     myself, 
dreamily,  "that  is 
the    eye    of     Ali 
Khan,  the  dacoit." 
Presently    I 
seemed     to    hear 
light  footsteps  on 
the  stairway.    "  It 
is  the  rest  of  Ali 
Khan,"  I  thought, 
"coming   to  join 
that    eye  ;     he    is 
feeling  uncomfort- 
able without  it." 


Suddenly  I  woke  up  with  a  ntart,  for  a 
mosquito  had  got  under  the  curtain  and 
bitten  me  badlv.  I  was  hjoking  for  the 
intruder  when  I  heard  what  sounded  like 
stealthy  footsteps  mounting  the  stairs.  1 
listened,  and  (oncludeil  there  was  undoubt- 
edly someone  there,  and  I  took  hold  of 
my  revolver  so  as  to  be  prepared  for  an 
emergency.  Just  then  the  jackals  once  more 
set  up  their  hideous  chorus,  drowning  every 
other  sound.  It  was  at  its  highest  and  most 
terrible  nijtes  when  suddenly  a  great  white 
figure,  with  what  looked  like  a  long,  glistening 
dagger  in  its  grasp,  s|)rang  upon  me  irom  the 
black  space  behind  my  chair.  With  a  bound  I 
jumped  away  from  it,  upsetting  the  table  and 
lamp  in  my  struggle  to  escape  from  the  threaten- 
ing danger.  Gaining  my  feet  once  more  I 
turned  round,  and,  seeing  the  white  object  still 
standing  there  in  the  gloom,  I  raised  my  revolver 
and  fired.  The  figure  threw  up  its  ariii->  and  fi-ll 
with  a  thud. 

The  flash  of  the  discharge  had  scarcelv 
leaped  from  the  barrel  when  a  great  uproar 
broke  out  among  my  people  below,  and 
cries  of  "Thieves,  thieves!"  "Kill,  kill!" 
reached  my  ears.  I  ran  to  the  parapet  to 
ascertain  what  had  ha[)pened,  but 
in  the  darkness  could  make  out 
nothing  but  dim,  excited  figures, 
who,    to    judge     from     the     noise, 


H  .*.►>"-•-»' 


'U^J^' 


'I    RAISH)    ,MV    KKVOLVKK    AM)    IIKIP. 


4o6 


THE   WIDE   WOREn    MAGAZINE. 


were  engaged  in  a  desperate  battle  with  some 
invisible  foe.  I  wondered  whether  it  was  really 
possible  that  the  adventurous  AH  Khan  and  his 
band  could  be  attacking  the  bungalow,  and 
had  begun  operations  by  attempting  to  murder 
me. 

Several  people  were  now  hastily  coming  up 
the  stairs,  and  I  turned  to  foce  them.  As  they 
reached  the  roof  I  found  from  their  voices  that 
they  were  my  own  men,  and  the  head-constable, 
who  led  them,  exclaimed,  excitedly:  "Sahib, 
sahib  !  Thieves,  thieves ! "  Apparently  he 
thought  T  was 
asleep.  "Have 
you  caught  them  ?  " 
I  asked. 

"There    were 
many.       We    have 


"  No,  my  brother " — this  from  a  man  who 
was  no  relative  of  the  speaker's — "  it  was  the 
left  shoulder  he  struck.     I  saw  the  blow  given." 

"  You  are  right,  (lOpal  Singh,"  said  the  man 
addressed.      "  Truly  it  was  the  left  shoulder." 

"  Where  was  the  sentry  ?  "  I  asked  the  head- 
constable.  "  How  is  it  he  did  not  give  warning 
of  the  approach  of  the  thieves?  " 

"He  has  become  incompetent,"  was  the  grave 
reply.      "  He  is  mortally  wounded  !  " 

"Well,"  I  said,  "fetch  hi.m  up,  dead  or  alive." 

By  this  time  a  crowd   from   the   village  had 


'"A  iiouKii  uKAi'ii-u  IN  A  Win  IF  sni;i:i 

had  a  great  battle.  \Ve  have  come  to  protect 
your  honour,"  he  continued,  ra[)idly,  not 
noticing  my  imiuiry. 

"  We  have  given  and  refcived  many  blows. 
It  was  a  fight  for  our  lives.  Ii  was  doubtless  AH 
Khan  and  his  gang,"  chimed  in  Kurrcem  Ikiksh. 

"Certainly  it  was  AH  Khan,"  said  someone 
else.  "The  one-eyed  shaitan  (Satan)  struck  me 
a  grievous  blow  on  my  right  shoulder." 


gathered  about  the  bunga- 
low, and  a  good  many 
people  had  made  their  way 
to  the  roof  Erom  their 
midst  a  figure  wrapped  in 
ADVANCE!).'  ;,     whifc     slicct      advauccd, 

and,  alter  salaaming,  in- 
formed me  ill  a  weak  voice  he  was  the  sentry, 
"'lell  me  all  about  it,"  I  .said. 
"I  was  resting,"  he  began,  but  tliC  head- 
constable  hastily  interrupted  with:  "Oh,  my 
brother,  what  are  you  saying?  Tell  your  tale 
in  a  {)lain  and  straightforward  manner";  an(i, 
addressing  me,  he  added  by  way  of  explanation, 
"  He  has  received  grievous  blows  on  the  head. 
iVnibtless  he  is  confused." 


THH    TROUBLi:    A  I      KA.MMAKli  IPORK 


407 


"  I  quite  understand,"  1  rcnuirkid. 

With  more  circumspection  the  sentry  went 
on  :  "  1  was  carefully  going  my  beat,  looking 
this  way  and  that,  when  just  at  half-past  twelve, 
or  it  may  be  twenty-five  minutes  to  one,  I  heard, 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  house  to  that  where 
I  was,  a  noise  as  of  contending  arn'iies.  I 
rushed  to  the  fray,  but  did  not  fire  U[)on  the 
enemy,  being  unable  to  distinguish  friend  (rom 
foe.  Four  or  five  of  the  thieves  came  tumultu- 
ously  at  me  and  struck  me  down,  no  doubt 
being  fearful  when  they  saw  an  armed  man." 

"Certainly,"  commented  the  head-constable. 
"  It  was  natural." 

At  this  point  tlie  attenlion  of  the  crowd  was 
arrested  bv  a  crv  from  Kurreem  Buksh,  who 
now,  for  the  first  time,  noticed  the  white  object 
I  had  shot  lying  huddled  up  behind  the  table 
and  chair.  The  crowd  peered  forward  to  look 
at  it,  and  then  edged  away  as  far  as  they  could. 

"  Have  you  any  matches,  Kurreeni  Buksh  ?  '' 
I  exclaimed. 

With  trembling  hand  he  produced  a  box 
from  some  recess  in  his  clothes,  and  we  lit  the 
lantern.  The  crowd  squeezed  itself  still  farther 
away,  and  as  I  moved,  lantern  in  hand,  towards 
the  recumbent  object,  those  on  the  top  of  the 
stairs  got  ready  to  bolt  at  a  moment's  notice. 

"(k)od  heavens!"  I  exclaimed,  startled  in 
my  turn,  as  I  recognised  what  the  mysterious 
thing  was  ;  "  it's  an  adjutant  bird  !  "  And 
then  the  explanation  of  the  e\ening's  adventure 
flashed  suddenly  across  my  mind. 

I  have  already  stated  that  I  had  noticed  some 
adjutant  birds  by  the  tank  or  pond  near  the 
bungalow.  Some  of  the  birds,  attracted  by  the 
light  on  the  roof,  hnd  doubtless  walked  towards 
the  building  during  the  night,  and  one  of  them 
had  mounted  the  stairs,  which  were  on  the  out- 
side, as  I  have  previously  stated.  It  wvas  this  bird 
which  I,  half  awake,  had  mistaken  in  the  dark- 
ness, caused  by  the  extinction  of  the  lamp,  for  a 
midnight  assassin,  and  shot  down.  The  report 
had  roused  the  sleepers  below,  and  they,  their 
minds    full    of   mysterious    impending    dangers 


from  the  ferocious  All  Khan  and  hi.^  ^-'i'c,  "id 
immediately  evolved  from  their  e.vcited  imagina- 
tions a  burglarious  attack  on  the  bungalow,  and 
proceeded  to  belabour  one  another  vigorously, 
each  man  under  the  impression  that  he-  was 
dealing  with  a  dacoit  1 

The  crowd,  as  soon  as  they  perceived  the 
real  character  of  the  recumbent  figure,  began  to 
pre.ss  close  about  me  to  have  a  good  look  at  it, 
and  the  head-constable  announced  to  all  and 
sundry,  as  though  he  was  making  an  important 
di.scovery,  that  it  was  an  adjutant  bird. 

"  Certainly,  certainly,"  responded  a  score  or 
so  of  voices  ;  "it  is  surely  that  bird." 

"  We  passed  some  of  them  on  the  road  as  we 
came  along,"  added  one  of  the  crowd. 

"I  agree  with  you  all,"  I  exclaimed,  "but 
what  of  the  burglars?  Where  is  Ali  Khan 
and  his  merry  men,  with  whrm  the  head- 
oonstable  and  Kurreem  Buk.sh  and  the  rest 
have  been  engaged  in  deadly  combat  ?  Where 
is  the  bold  burglar  who  mortally  wounded  the 
sentry  when  that  hero  rushed  into  the  fray, 
musket  in  hand  ?" 

I  suppose  the  truth  was  beginning  to  dawn 
on  their  minds,  for  little  chuckles  of  laughter 
reached  my  ears  from  the  villagers  in  the  rear. 

"  I  think  you  had  all  better  go  down,"  I 
continued,  "  and  talk  the  matter  over  among 
yourselves." 

The  crowd  now  dispersed,  and  by  the 
sounds  of  laughter  which  pre.sently  came  from 
below  I  gathered  that  the  mystery  of  the 
"  attack  "  on  the  bungalow  had  been  solved. 

The  victim  of  that  night's  adventure  was,  in 
due  time,  carefully  stuffed  in  memory  ot  the 
scene  in  which  he  had  taken  so  prominent  a 
part,  ^^'ith  outstretched  wings  "  Ali  Khan,"  as 
he  is  now  christened,  stands  a  noble  and  awe- 
inspiring  figure  and  a  striking  memento  of  the 
dacoity  at  Kambakhti)ore. 

As  to  the  real  Ali  Khan,  it  was  many  a  lung 
day  before  he  was  caught,  but  slow-footed  justice 
at  length  overtook  him,  and  he  is  still  "doing" 
his  life  sentence  in  the  Andamans. 


from  a  Photo,  hy  A.  C.  Ahcnincar. 

Very   few   persons  in   this   country  have  any  idea  how  macaroni,  the  national  dish  of  Italy,  is  prepared  ; 

some    people    have   a  hazy  notion    that   it  grows  like  wheat  !     The  author  has  visited  some  of  the  largest 

factories   in   Naples,   and    describes    the    processes    which    the    macaroni    goes   through.     It  is   made  in 

upwards  of  sixty  different  ways,  and  is  gradually  becoming,  like    bread,  an  international  institution. 


OETS  have  sung  the  charms  of 
Itahan  life  and  scenery  in  verse, 
writers  have  raved  o\er  them  m 
prose,  and  painters  liave  transferred 
them  to  canvas  ;  in  fact,  with  all 
artistic  souls  sunny  Italy  always  has  been  and 
always  will  be  a  favourite  country. 

'I'here  is  one  thing,  however,  for  which  Italy  is 
as  justly  famous  as  for  its  sights  and  scenery, 
and  yet  one  which  tlie  visitor  almost  entirely  over- 
looks. Consequently  the  celebrated  macaroni 
—  that  most  agreeable  and  nutritious  of  national 
dishes — has,  unlike  the  roast  beef  and  plum 
pudding  of  Old  England,  found  few  to  recom- 
mend it  outside  the  land  of  its  manufacture. 
As  an  article  of  daily  diet  its  j)ossibiliii<^s 
have  not  been  understood  nor  its  dietetic 
benefits  apjireciated  by  the  stranger  witliout 
the  gates,  but  the  Italians  point  with  triumph 
to  the  fact  that  no  foreigner  resides  long 
amongst  them  ere  he  succumbs  to  its  subtle 
attraction.  Aforcover,  like  brend,  it  is  gradually 
becoming  an  international  institution. 

It  is  not,  howi'\cr,  the  intention  of  the  writer 
to  descant  here  on  the  merits  of  this  farinaceous 
accessory  to  the    cuisine,  admirable    though    it 


may  be  as  a  daily  dish,  though  he  may  re- 
mark en  passant  that  there  are  more  kinds 
of  macaroni,  made  in  different  shapes,  with 
different  flavours,  and  capable  of  being  pre- 
pared for  the  table  in  equally  innumerable 
fashions,  than  he  dreamt  of  or  thought  possible. 

The  best-known  variety  of  macaroni  in  this 
country  is  the  long  hollow  tube  branded  as 
Napoleloni  and  vermicelli.  The  former  is  used 
in  i'jigland  for  making  puddings  and  the  latter 
for  sou[)S  ;  but  there  are  about  sixty  other 
different  forms,  ranging  in  size  and  shape  from 
tiny  grains  to  a  one-inch  diameter  piece  of  piping, 
and  taking  in  by  the  way  little  letters  of  the 
ali)habet  and  sea-shells. 

The  process  of  making  mararoni  is  more 
likely  to  ap[)eal  to  the  visitor  than  the  eating  of 
the  article  ;  that  and  watching,  when  the  oppor- 
tunity occurs,  how  the  Italian  partakes  of  and 
enjoys  his  national  meal.  There  are  some 
peo])le  -and  they  are  not  all   m   T^ngland  either 

whose  acipiaintance  with  macaroni  begins 
and  ends  with  the  use  of  the  word  as  an 
insulting  term  foi  Ttalia's  swarthy  sons,  ami  such 
a  one  I  once  heard  advise  an  Italian  to  return 
to   macaroni   harvesting  rather    than    stay    here 


'I'm:     MAKINO    OF    MACAKONI. 


1*0 


/■ '  C!U  a  Photo,  fi 


playing  a  street  organ.  He  evidently  thought 
that  macaroni  grew  much  like  a  field  of  corn  or 
wheat  and  was  reaped  every  year  !  Even 
although  the  origin  of  macaroni  is  lost  in  the 
mists  of  centuries  he  might  have  been  expected 
to  know  better. 

-Macaroni  can  I)e  traced  back  to  the  time  of 
the  R(Miians  ;  in  the  kneading  of  flour  they  used 
a  cylinder  known  as  a  "  maccaro,"  whence  the 
(jrigin  of  the  word  maca7-oni.  'i'o-day  it  is 
manufactured  all  over  Italy,  at  Leghorn, 
I'lorence,  and  Cienoa,  and  outside  the  country, 
notably  in  Algiers,  but  the  centre  of  the 
industry  is  Naples,  and  the  true  land  of 
macaroni  has  been  always,  and  always  will 
remain,  that  whii^h  borders  on  the  I3ay  of 
Naples,  from  San  (iiovanni  to  Sorrento. 

The  above  photograph,  illustrating  the  drying 
process,  was  taken  at  one  of  the  largest 
macaroni  factories  in  Naples,  where  hundreds 
of  tons  are  turned  out  yearly  to  be  dispatched 
all  over  the  country  and  exported  al)road.  In  the 
manufacturing  process  there  is  nothing  particu- 
larly intricate.  First  the  flour  is  mixed  into  a 
paste  and  at  the  same  time  any  flavouring  that  is 
to  be  imparted  to  the  macaroni  is  addrd.  This  is 
accom[)lislied  in  large  vats  capable  of  lujlding 
great  cpiantities  of  the  paste,  which— if  it  is  to 
come  out  in  elongated  tubes  -is  then  taken  to 

Vol.  X.-52. 


I    1  -.JLUC    A    lAClukV. 


the  room  containing  the  warming  cylinders  and 
put  through  them.  If  it  is  destined  to  be 
cut  into  shapes  of  different  thicknesses  and 
moulded  into  various  designs  it  goes  under 
rolling  machines. 

In  this  room  the  workmen  are  found  going 
about  their  labours  wearing  the  li;^Iitest  of 
garments  and  with  feet  innocent  of  any  cover- 
ing, which  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  in  view 
of  the  high  temperature  at  which  the  place  is 
maintained.  Outside  it  was  blazing  liot,  the 
sun  burning  in  a  blue  ex|xnise  unflecked  by  tlie 
smallest  cloud,  and  here  inside  the  heat  seemed 
to  go  right  to  one's  brain,  turning  one  dizzy 
and  sick.  On  either  side  of  the  chamber  large 
cylinders  were  set  up,  into  the  interiors  of 
which  the  paste  was  poured,  to  emerge,  under 
great  pressure,  through  a  perforated  plate  in 
long  tubes  which  were  caught  across  a  stick 
|)laced  beneath  and  kept  moving  along  by  the 
man  in  front  until  it  had  received  its  comple- 
ment of  macaroni.  Then  the  stick,  with  the 
macaroni  hanging  down  some  2ft.  or  more  on 
eidier  side,  was  .seized  by  a  couple  of  men 
stripped  to  the  wai.st  and  borne  on  their 
shoulders  to  the  exterior.  As  they  are 
clothed  so  scantily  it  may  l)e  wondered  that 
the  men  do  not  take  cold  in  fxissing  from 
the   inside  to  the  outside  of  the  building,   but 


4IO 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


then  it  must  De  borne  in  mind  that  in  tlie 
open  a  fierce  sun  blazed,  so  tliat  they  did  not 
pass  into  cool  air,  for  not  a  breath  of  wind  was 
stirrmg.  Faces,  arms,  bodies,  and  legs  were 
tanned  to  a  dark  brown  by  the  sun's  fierce  rays ;  , 
in  fact,  they  had  been  so  baked  that  perspira- 
tion was  with  them  a  thing  of  the  past ;  they 
were  simply  impervious  to  heat. 

Outside  in  the  full  light  and  warmth  dozens 
of  poles,  each  supporting  many  pounds  of 
macaroni,  were  hung  up  in  order  that  their 
loads  might  dry.  For  hours  it  is  allowed 
to  hang  there  until  quite  brittle,  when  it  is 
taken  away  to  the  packing-room  to  be  done 
up  in  boxes  and  sent  away.  It  is  dried  in  the 
open  air,  because  it  thus  accjuires  a  sweeter 
flavour  than  if  dried  indoors.  Where  it  is  hung 
out  in  the  street  in  front  of  the  factory,  as 
sometimes  occurs,  the  young  Neapolitans,  as 
might  be  expected,  do  not  miss  their  oppor- 
tunity. When  the  watchful  eye  of  the  guardian 
is  not  on  them  they  surreptitiously  help  them- 
selves to  a  morsel  or  so  and  promptly  make 
themselves  scarce,  devouring  their  ill-gotten 
feast  in  solitude  and  safety. 

Although  the  Italian  may  partake  of  half-a- 
dozen  dishes  at  one  sitting,  he  would  not  think 
the  meal  complete  unless  his  beloved  macaroni 
entered  largely  into  it,  forming  a  course  by  itself 
and  taking  a  [)art  in  two  or  three  other  courses. 


He  will  take  it  with  scup  or  in  place  of  soup, 
but  it  turns  up  again  with  the  enfree. 

But  the  picturesque  side  of  macaroni-eating 
is  that  witnessed  in  the  streets,  where  it  forms 
the  staple  food  of  the  same  class  of  people  as 
patronize  coffee-stalls  here.  With  the  lower 
orders  it  is  the  chief  and  often  the  only  dish, 
day  in  and  day  out,  from  one  year's  end  to 
another,  and  it  must  l)e  admitted  they  look 
wonderfully  well  on  it. 

The  street  vendors  of  macaroni  do  a  roaring 
trade  pretty  well  throughout  the  whole  of  the 
day.  The  picture  below  shows  quite  an 
elaborate  open-air  restaurant  with  a  large  choice 
of  dishes  ready  for  the  workman's  consumption. 

At  ten  each  morning  business  begins  to  be 
brisk  for  the  street  merchant,  who  is  kept 
constantly  busy  serving  out  steaming  hot  dishes 
of  macaroni  to  a  crowd  of  men  and  boys. 
A  large  and  satisfying  plate  costs  only  a 
penny ;  for  a  half[)enny  more  a  roll  can  be 
purchased  ;  and  the  comparatively  wealthy  can 
indulge  in  a  pint  of  wine  (of  sorts)  to  wash  the 
meal  down  for  the  equivalent  of  another  penny. 
Knives  and  forks  do  not  worry  them,  and  they 
are  content  to  take  their  luncheon  standing, 
dropping  the  macaroni  into  their  mouths 
with  their  fingers  and  eating  with  heads 
aslant,  their  faces  expressive  of  keen  enjoy- 
ment. 


Ffoiii  a  Photo,  fij] 


lllE    liCTUUKSijUK    Slbli   OK    M AC AKOM-liA  I  IN<;    IS    Ul 


The  Sea-Birds'  Breeding-Place— A  St.  Kilda  Mail-Boat-The  Bridge  that    Strayed—The  Ride  of   Paul 

Revere — How  the  Chinese  Punish  Criminals,  etc.,  etc. 


give    our 
number 


HE  striking  photograph  here  shown 
depicts  a  portion  of  the  cliffs  at  the 
remote  Island  of  Noss,  Shetland. 
This  island  is  a  great  breeding-place 
for  sea-birds,  and  the  photograph  will 

readers  an  idea  of  the  immense 
of     birds     which     congregate     there. 


'i'lie  cliffs  are  fully  six  hundred  feet  in  height, 
and  every  available  nook  and  crag  is 
crowded  with  birds.  From  the  sea  these  cliffs 
present  a  most  remarkable  appearance,  dotted 
as  they  are  with  countless  myriads  of  birds, 
which  make  the  air  resound  witti  tlieir  weird 
cries. 


THE   CI.IFFS   OF    NOSS,    SHETl.ASO— "  ICVERV   AVAII.AI1I.K    NOOK    AND  CKAO    IS  CKOWOKO  WITH    BIKIKt,' 

/•roiii  a  f'hn'to  h'    f    nn.l    I     '      '-••«f'/.v. 


412 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZIKE. 


J'roiii  a\ 


THIS   CURIOUS    UTTI.F,   CRAFT    IS    A    ST.     KII.DA    MAIL-BOAT. 


[F/ioto. 


In  Italy,  as  in  many  other  Con- 
tinental countries,  lotteries  are 
quite  an  institution  in  the  lives 
of  the  people,  lilverybody,  from 
the  peasant  to  the  highest  in 
the  land,  takes  tickets  in  the 
lott(-ries,  and  many  people  lose 
money  in  this  way  whicli  they 
can  ill  afford,  often  going  with- 
out food  and  clothes  in  oider 
to  buy  ciiances.  The  most  im- 
portant lottery  is  that  kninvn  as 
the  "  Royal,''  which  has  offices 
in  Bari,  Florence,  and  Naples. 
The  result  of  the  drawings  is 
announced  each  week  at  five 
o'clock  on  Saturday  afternoons, 
when  a  large  crowd  assembles 
and  the  excitement  is  intense. 
Our    pl)otograi)h     shows    the 


mterestmg 


Here     is     a     very 
photograph,    showing    one   of    the 
curious  little  mail-boats  which  are 
periodically    sent    off     from     the 
remote  Island  of  St.   Kilda.     This 
quaint  despatch-vessel  was  picked 
up  on  the  shore   at  the  Island  of 
Pabbay,  in  the  Western   Hebrides, 
and     occupied      seven      days     in 
making     the     journey    of    about 
thirty-five    or    forty    miles.       The 
boat    measured    three    feet    long 
and    four    inches    deep,    with    an 
eighteen-inch    mast.     The  rigging, 
sail,  and    iron    keel  were  all  care- 
fully  suited    to   the    size    of    the 
boat.       Carved   out    in    the   deck 
was  a  small  recess  containing  five 
letters,    one  of  which  asked    that 
tin;  finder  would  be  good  enough 
to  forward  them  to  tiieir  respective 
destinations.     This  was  duly  done 
by   the  gentleman  who  found  the 
boat.     It   is  safe   to  say  that  this 
remarkable     mail  -  boat     finds    no 
place  on  the  list  of  vessels  author- 
ized  to   carry  liie  Koyal   mail.      It 
is    iii;w  announced    that    tlie    Post 
Office   authorities    have    made  ar- 
rangements  whereby  St.    Kilda  is 
to  have  the  benefit  of  a  fortnightly 
mail  service  during  the  winter,  so 
that    the    islanders    will    not    have 
to     depend     on    tlicir    lilllc     mes- 
sengers, wiiich,  owing  to  their  being 
entirely  at  the  mercy  of  wind  and 
tide,  are  not  always  quite  so  reliable 
as  could  be  wished. 


imu 


ANNOUNCl     ', 


HE   WINNING    NUMIIF.K    IN    AN    ITALIAN    LOITI-.K^. 

From  a  J'ltolo. 


ODDS    AND    KN'DS. 


4»5 


number  whiili  wins  the  "  Init, 
prize "  being  announcx'd  to 
the  expectant  crowd. 

One  niiylit  guess  for  a  wry 
lonii  time  before  discoverinir 
the  identity  of  the  weird-look- 
ing creature  hanging  rouml 
the  neck  of  tlie  man  seen  in 
the  httle  snap-shot  herewith. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  the 
pii:ture  shows  a  coohe  be- 
longing to  tiie  SomaHLand 
I-'ield  Force  carrying  a  baby 
camel  over  his  shoulders.  It 
is  a  very  common  sight,  but 
one  which  always  looks  ridi- 
culous, for  a  more  extraordi- 
nary-looking mass  of  legs  and 
neck  than  a  young  camel  it  is 
im [possible  to  conceive,  the 
animal's  tiny 
body  being  out 
of  all  pro[)or- 
t  i  o  n  to  its 
limbs. 

\\"  e    h  a  V  e 
next     to    con- 
sider a  remark- 
able    accident 
w  h  i  c  h    h  a  p  - 
I)encd     to    a 
bridge.    In  the 
early  spring  of 
1899  the   ice 
some  distance 
below  the  I  )a\v- 
son     County 
Bridge,    near 
("1  1  e  n  d  i  v  e, 
Montana,    got 
wedged  into  a 
kind     of    dam,    thus 
the     level    of    the    water    so 
high     that     the    first    and 
third      spans     of     the      great 
bridge  were    lifted    bodily   off 
their    piers    by   the   ice    and 
carried  away  down  stream,  to 
be    finally    stranded     several 
miles      below     their     starting 
l)oinl.      Each  s|ian  was  36011. 
long,  and  constructed  of  steel. 
The  ordinary  water-level  is  at 
least  20ft.  below  that  shown  in 
the    photograph,    and    ele\en 
people  were    drowned   in    the 
disastrous  flood  caused  l)y  the 
jauuiiing  of  the  i<\'. 

It   is   not  often   that  a  man 


k-  9,^ 

m 

mm 

WHAT    IS    THis     MAT.    CAUl; 

From  a  Photo. 


THKSK    SP.VNS    I'.EI.ClNliF.D   TO  THK  DAWSON'  COINTV    P.Rinr.R,    MONT 
OKK    TIIKIR   SUPPOKTS    BY   AN    ICK-PACK    AND   CAUKIt;l>   SliVKKAI. 

From  a  Photo. 


A  V  A  - 
Ml  I.I' 


undermines  his  own  hon 
.search  of   wealth,   but  i 
precisely  what  the  prospc  lor 
whose    hut    is    shown    in    n-;r 
photograph    had   to  do. 
Iiad  staked  out  his  claim  on  a 
[jlacer -ground   at    Allin    and 
built    his  house   upon  it,   but 
after  putting  in  a  considerable 
amount    of    work    discovered 
that     the      long  -  looked  -  for 
"  |)ay-streak  "  lay  right   under- 
neath his  domicile.     Nothing 
daunted,     he    went     to    work 
to   burrow   under    his   cabin, 
propping      up     the     four 
corners    with    posts,    and 
dieuinti  awav  the  foundations 
until      at      last     he    had     to 
chmb  in  and  out  of  the  shanty 
by  means  of  a 
ladder.      It    is 
pleasing  to 
know     that 
his      persever- 
ance was   well 
rewarded. 
Several    min- 
ing   towns    in 
the    West    are 
said    to    be 
built    on    ver)' 
rich    ground, 
from  the  gold- 
n)iner's     point 
of   view  ;    but 
indiscriminate 
burrowing  is 
forbidden. 


-TMIV    Wll.-P-  I  IKTKI> 
S    IMIW.S    s'l  KKAM. 


I 


raismg 


j'lOIII  u\  iHia    iiiiril^n  .^    Hv 


..'1  .;■  ^^  -  L.u,        1/  koto. 


414 


THK     WlDl':     WORLD    MAGAZliNK. 


From  a\ 


A  NEGRO  GRAVEYARD  IN  ALABAMA. 


One  would  not  think  that  the  above  snap- 
depicts  a  graveyard— the  place  looks  more 
a  dumping-ground  for  odds  and  ends 
of  broken  crockery.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  however,  the  photograph  shows 
part  of  a  negro  graveyard  at  Selma, 
Alabama,  and  the  broken  crockery  is 
put  on  the  graves  by  way  of  decora- 
tion. It  is  a  peculiar  custom  among 
the  negroes  of  this  section  to  store  uj) 
during  the  whole  year  all  their  broken 
glass  and  chinaware.  On  "  Decoration 
J  )ay  "  all  these  fragments  are  collected, 
and  a  huge  procession  is  formed  and 
marches  to  the  cemeteries,  where  each 
fcimiiy  disposes  of  its  collection  of 
oddments  on  the  graves  of  its 
rclalixes.  The  more  crockery  tliey 
can  place  upon  their  graves  the  better 
pleased  are  the  negroes.  If  this 
curious  custom  obtained  among  the 
lower  orders  in  this  country  one 
would  be  better  able  to  understand 
certain  disconcerting  idiosyncrasies 
displayed  by  the  average  Mary  Jane. 

Everybody  has  heard  of  Long- 
fellow's famous  poen),  "  The  Ride 
of  I'aul  Revere,"  which  describes 
liow,  in  the  troublous  days  of  1775, 
Paul  Revere  rode  through  the 
New  England  villages  at  midnight 
shouting  "'I'he  Piritish  arc  (X)ming,'' 
and  arousing  the  sleeping  people  1(j 
arms.  Very  few  people  are  aware, 
however,  that  this  incident  has  given 
rise   to   a   most   interesting  custom  — 


shot 
like 


nothing  less  than  a  yearly  revival  of 
ihc-  midnight  ride.  On  the  night  of 
A[>ril  1 8th  each  year  a  well-mounted 
young  Bostonian,  dressed  in  the 
coslume  of  1775,  rides  through  the 
villages  of  Medford,  Arlington,  and 
Lexington,  and  so  on  to  Concord, 
shouting  "The  British  are  coming." 
Our  illustration  is  from  an  instanta- 
neous flashlight  photograph  taken  at 
midnight  at  Lexington.  The  lady  at 
the  window  asked  the  horseman  not 
to  make  such  a  noise,  as  the  men- 
folk were  asleep.  "  Noise  !  "  replied 
the  rider ;  "  you  will  have  enough 
noise  directly.  The  British  are  com- 
ing !  "  And  then  he  put  spurs  to  his 
horse  and  dashed  off  to  Concord. 

In    the    Southern    California    moun- 
tains there  are  many  species  of  strange 
life  to  be  found,  but  the  most  unique 
\_Photo.        ^^,-,(j    curious    are,    perhaps,    the    fleet- 
footed,  bright-eyed  lizards  with  detach- 
able   tails.       Mountain    tourists    often    amuse 
themselves  and  while  away  the  lazy   hours   of 


A    CURIOUS   NEW   ENGLAND   CUSTOM—"  THE    RIDE   OF    I'AUL    KKVEKF. 

From  a  Photo. 


()])])>    AM)     KNDS. 


4«5 


summer  by  tossing  stones  and  sticks  at  these 
odd  little  creatures  as  they  dart  from  rock  to 
rock  or  from  tree  to  tre«,  just  to  see  if  they 
will  drop  their  tails.  For  if  suddenly  startled 
or  caught  in  close  quarters  the  lizards  invari- 
ably dispense  with  their  ap[)endages  and  flit 
sadly  away,   "  leaving    their  tails    behind   'em.'' 


was  enabled  to  take  the  picture  unencumbered 
by  onlookers  through  the  good  offices  of  tl)e 
commander  of   the  guard-house    near    '  '  o 

kindly  stopped  all  the  tralTic  during  the  >  ,  .11. 

In  former  days  exposure  in  this  cage  meant 
certain  death,  for  the  i)risoner  was  fasti.ned  to 
the  lop  of  the  cage  by  his  queue  and  could  only 


A   SOUTH    CALIKOKMAN    ROCK-Lli;ARD— THESE    l.nTI.E    ANIMALS   SHKU    THEIR    TAILS   WHEN'   ALARSIED. 

Front  a  Photo,  by  Helen  L.  Jones. 


The  old  tail  cannot  be  readjusted  when  once 
off,  but  Nature  is  kind,  and  sees  to  it  that 
another  growth  soon  takes  the  place  of  the  old, 
and  that  the  lizard  is  made  as  good  as  new  again. 
The  reason  for  dropping  the  tail  is  precisely  the 
.same  as  that  which  actuates  a  man  pursued  by 
wild  animals  to  throw  away  iiis  hal  or  his  coat 
in  order  to  gain  time  for  flight. 

The  gentleman  whose  photo,  is  here  shown 
would,  perhaps, 
have  preferred 
to  have  had  his 
portrait  taken  in 
a  less  public  and 
uncomfortable 
position.  He 
has,  however, 
offended  against 
the  laws  of  his 
country,  and  is 
expiating  his 
crime  by  e x - 
posure  in  a  cage 
for  the  period 
of  one  month. 
The  scene  is  a 
street  in  Canton 
just  outside 
Shamien  (the 
European  con- 
cession), and  the 
photograi)her        i-,mn\ 


HOW    THE   CMINKSK  fC.M^H    CKIMI.S^AI.-'x 


just  stand  on  tiptoe,  the  consequence  being  that 
he  died  in  about  three  days  from  the  combined 
effects  of  fatigue,  cramp,  and  starvation.  In 
the  present  instance,  however,  the  man  could 
change  his  position  by  squatting  on  his  heels 
when  tired  of  standing  up,  and,  moreover,  he  was 
only  exposed  during  the  day,  being  taken  back 
to  gaol  every  evening.  Notice  the  large  Itamboo 
hat  placed    on  toj)  of   the    cage  to  shield  him 

from  the  rays 
of  the  sun; 
also  the  "tiger- 
head  board." 
w  hereon  is 
written  the 
nature  of  his 
oflence.  This 
method  of 
punishing 
criminals  would 
be  a  refreshing 
innovation  in 
ourowncountr)', 
and  our  streets 
would  gain 
greatly  in 
human  interest 
by  a  judicious 
sprinkling  of 
caged  and 
'.'died  male- 
w  h  u 


1/VJ..V 


1 .1  c  tor  s. 


4i6 


THE   WIDE  WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


would   serve   as  valuable  object-lessons  of   the 
consequences  of  evil-doing. 

.Visitors  to  the  city  of  jaipore,  in  Rajputana, 
are  always  struck  by  the  curious  "  Hall  of  Winds," 
or  "Wind  Palace,"  which  forms  part  of  the 
Maharajah  of  Jaipore's  palace.     The  only  part 


highest  houses.  Aladdin's  magician  could  have 
called  into  existence  no  more  marvellous  abode." 
The  building  thus  described  is  part  of  the 
quarters  assigned  to  the  ladies  of  the  zenana. 
Much  of  it  — in  spite  of  Sir  Edwin's  apprecia- 
tive  remarks— is  a   mere   mask   of   stucco,   but 


J' r our  ii] 


I  111-,     "WIM)     rAI.ACli"    Al     JA1I1IKI-. 


[J'llOU). 


o{  this  remarkable  structure  visible  from  the 
street  is  the  frontage  seen  in  our  jjliolograph, 
which  has  been  described  by  Sir  Edwin  Arnold 
as  "a  vision  of  daring  and  dninty  loveliness — 
many  stories  of  rosy  masonry,  delicate  overhang- 
ing balconies,  and  latticed  windows,  soaring 
witii  tier  after  tier  of  fanciful  architecture  in  a 
pyramidal  form,  a  very  mcnmtain  of  airy  and 
audacious  beauty,  through  the  thousand  pierced 
screens  and  gilded  arches  of  wliich  the  Indian 
air  blows   cool  over  the  flat   roofs   of  the  very 


nevertheless  the  "Wind  Palace"  is  a  unique 
i)it  of  Indian  architecture,  which  never  fails 
to  impress  those  who  behold  il  for  the  first 
time. 

As  will  be  seen  froni  the  picture,  the  building 
has  u[)wards  of  fifty  bay  windows  of  various 
shapes,  filled  in  with  different  kinds  of  lattice- 
work. It  is  safe  to  say  tliat  if  it  could  l)e  trans- 
ferred to  London  and  deposited  in  Whitehall  or 
Piccadilly  the  "Wind  Palace "  would  create  a 
decided  sensation. 


i 


I 


r 


,*, 


IIOKSL:    ANlJ     .MA.N     W  1,M     IXJWA,     DOWX     IllUOUGIl     Til 
TO    TIIK    ROCKS    BKNKATll." 


i;    All; 


(sick  pack  424.) 


Tiin  Wide  World  Magazixh. 


Vol.  X. 


MARCH,    1903. 


No.  59. 


WHAT    HAPPENED    AT   THE    BEND 

A    SrORN     01      I  111;    L-..S.    M.\li.. 

\\\   1).   1.  Seton-Cxkrutheks. 

The  mining  camp  of  Pine  Creek,  Montana,  was  seething  with  excitement  when  the  author  arrived 
there.  The  Indians  were  on  the  war  path,  the  miners  were  up  in  arms  against  their  employers, 
and  the  neighbourhood  was  infested  with  daring  "  road-agents,"  who  had  prevented  the  running 
of  the  stage-coach.  A  reward  of  five  hundred  dollars  was  offered  to  anyone  who  would  drive  the 
coach  safely  through  to  the  nearest  railway  depot.  Mr.  Seton-Carruthers  undertook  the  task,  and 
here    relates   the    appalling   catastrophe  which   happened  on    the  journey. 


ILS  lui{)pened  eleven  years  ago  in 
-Montnna.  The  period  was  a  wild 
and  troublefiome  one,  even  for  that 
wild  and  turbulent  State.  To  begin 
with,  there  had  been  great  unrest 
aniuiiL;  ihc  Indians,  culminating  in  several  bands 
of  aspiring,  bloodthirsty  bucks  breaking  out  of 
their  reservations  and  going  on  the  war-path. 
Then  there  was  trouble  in  the  mining  districts. 
The  mine-owners  thought  they  could  rake  in 
larger  profits  by  the  importation  of  Chinese 
labour,  and  proceeded  to  do  so  ;  the  miners 
admitted  the  possible  correctness  of  the  theory, 
but  protested  against  its  being  put  into  prac- 
tice by  lining  up  at  the  approach  to  the  mines 
and  taking  pot-shots  at  the  "Johns"  as  they 
went  to  work  the  day  after 
their  arrival.  The  smiling 
Celestials  took  the  shooting 
as  a  joke  at  first  and  by  way 
of  a  salute— just  a  pleasant 
little  whim  on  the  part  of  the 
''  Amellican  man  "  !  By  the 
time  a  dozen  or  two  had 
dropped  to  the  ground, 
killed  or  wounded,  the  re- 
mainder came  to  the  con- 
clusion that  the  joke  had 
lost  the  savour  of  humour 
even  to  the  point  of  tragedy, 
and  as  one  man  they  gath- 
ered up  their  voluminous 
nankeen  slacks  and,  without 
a  thought  as  to  the  order 
of  their  going,  fled  promis- 
cuously, with  pigtails  wildly 
streaming  in  the  wind,  'ihe 
sub.sequent  proceedings 
consisted  of  a  house  -  to  - 
house  search  for  stray 
"Johns,"  but  not  a  single 
pigtail  could  be  found. 
Everv  one  of  the  eight 
Vol.' X. -53. 


hundred  who  had  arrived  the  day  before  had 
vanished  as  completely  and  as  effectually 
as  if  the  ground  had  opened  and  swallowed 
them  up  !  'I'hen  the  "  boys "  rejoiced  and 
indulged  in  more  "rye,"  and  guessed  they 
had  taught  the  owners  a  lesson  and  vindi- 
cated their  rights  as  American  citizens. 

A   third  element  of  danger  to  the  peace  of 

the   country    was    the    formation    of    bands    of 

road  -  agents,    who    waylaid    and    robbed    and 

murdered  all  and  sundry  with  strict  impartiality. 

That  things  were    "  lively "    at    Pine  Creek  is 

proved    by    the    fact    that    three    sheriffs   were 

buried  and  a  fourth  elected  within  one  calendar 

month,    chiefly   owing   to   the   township    being 

overrun     with     "  bad    men  "     and     "  toughs," 

attracted    to   the    centre   of 

friction    from   all    parts   of 

the  State  by  hopes  of  gain. 

It    was    at     the    height 

of    these     doings     that     I 

arrived,    cleaned    out   save 

for  two  dollars  thirty  cents, 

a      pros()ecting       hammer  - 

pick,    a    single    change   of 

raiment,      a       Smith      and 

Wesson  revolver,  and  forty 

spare     cartridges.       I    was 

also   very    sore  -  footed, 

generally    worn     out,     and 

with    a    hunger    and    thirst 

upon   me  that   would  have 

caused     a    panic     in     any 

well  -  regulated     restaurant. 

Hut     they    were    used     to 

both      in     an 

form    at    the    ' 

the     manner    in 

li     ..^ured  and  ■ 

joint  and  loaf  pi.. 

tue    at    the    Spread    Eagle 

caused  no  comment.     Care- 

^.   hKroNCA  ,    ,,        ,  •    •  111 

^  f,^^f^  fully  de|)ositing  n>y  valuables 


rated 

and 

which    I 

i  the 
V  -.  ..ifore 


420 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


behind  the  bar  and  intimating  to  Tim  O'Brien, 
whom  I  knew  of  old,  that  1  should  want  a  room 
and  board  for  a  few  days,  also  that  I  was 
"  broke,"  and  receiving  a  cheery  reply  thereto 
and  the  freely  proffered  loan  of  as  many  dollars 
as  I  wanted  until  I  "  struck  oil,"  I  hitched  my 
revolver  into  a  handy  position  on  my  hip  and 
strolled  forth  to  view  the  town  and  see  what 
was  going  on,  and  what  prospects  there  were  of 
raising  the  wind. 

The  first  two  men  I  met  whom  I  knew 
were  "  Long  Jim  "  and  "  Montana  Bill,"  both 
my  one-time  brother  cowboys  in  the  ranks  of 
the  "  Three  Bar  Outfit,"  both  trusted  friends, 
and  the  former  my  instructor  in  all  I  knew 
about  the  handling 
of  cattle  and  the 
revolver. 

Montana  Bill 
had  that  day  been  ' 
elected  —  un- 
opposed  —  to  the 
post  of  sheriff,  and, 
to  use  his  own  ex- 
pression, was  "just 
tickled  to  death  at 
the  notion."  As 
Long  Jim,  his  in- 
separable "  pard," 
happened  to  be  in 
town  and  available, 
he  had  promptly 
appointed  him  his 
deputy.  Montana 
liill's  chief  quali- 
fications for  his 
billet  were  unerring 
precision  with  any 
make  of  revolver  at 
any  kind  of  target 
within  range,  a 
lightning-like 
rapidity  in  drawing 
his  weapon,  and 
nerves  of  steel.  His 
deputy  was,  if  any- 
thing, slightly  his 
superior.  Pine 
("reek  was  in  a  state 
of  simmering  ex- 
citement at  the  dual 
appointment  of  two 
such  capable  men.  The  respectable  portion 
■ — those  with  something  to  lose  and  average 
ideas  concerning  the  rights  of  property — were 
delighted,  and  speculated  openly  on  the  speedy 
wiping-out  of  all  objectionable  characters.  The 
"  objectionables,"  on  the  other  hand,  deter- 
mined to  be  rid  of  the   new  men  as  quickly   as 


'■.-  '\ 


AS   LONG  JIM    HAI'PENEI)   TO    BE    I 
HIM    HIS 


chance  might  permit.      We    hailed   each  other 
with  delight. 

I  mentioned  to  the  sheriff  and  his  deputy  my 
desire  to  raise  a  few  dollars  by  some  safe  and 
honest  employment.  They  promptly  offered 
me  the  clerkship  to  themselves  at  five  dollars  a 
day  and — a  free  funeral.  It  was  tempting,  and 
I  accepted  at  once.  But  the  post  would  not  be 
vacant — except  in  case  of  an  accident — for  a 
week.  The  present  holder  of  the  office  had 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  Pine  Creek  was  not 
a  health  resort  and  that  life  therein  was  held 
too  cheaply,  therefore  he  hankered  for  the  East 
and  safety — even  at  a  reduced  salary.  But  his 
month's  pay  was   not  due   for  six  days,  and  he 

wasn't  so  badly 
scared  as  to  forfeit 
that  and  tramp  to 
New  York.  Hence 
the  vacancy,  and 
my  chance  of  fill- 
ing the  same. 

In  the  meantime 
I  had  a  week  to 
myself.  I  called 
at  the  post  -  office 
to  see  if  there  were 
any  letters  or 
papers  from  home, 
but  found  there 
had  been  no  mail 
for  five  weeks,  the 
coach  between 
Sundon  and  the 
Creek  having  stop- 
ped for  want  of 
drivers,  every  at- 
tempt to  lun  the 
stage  through  dur- 
ing that  [K-riod 
having  been  frus- 
trated  by  road- 
agents,  who  had,  as 
a  rule,  shot  the 
drivers  and  guards, 
and  invariably 
looted  the  convey- 
ance of  everything 
worth  c  a  r  r  y  i  n  g 
away,  horses  in- 
cluded. As  the  tele- 
graph wire — there 
was  only  one-  -had  been  cut,  the  town  was  com- 
pletely isolated  from  the  outer  world,  and  business, 
except  of  a  local  nature,  was  entirely  at  a  stand- 
still. The  Express  Company  was  at  its  wits'  end. 
Their  offices  were  crowded  with  parcels,  letters, 
and  a  hundred  oddments  which  they  had 
accepted  and  undertaken  to  transmit  to  Sundon, 


^^^Wv^ 


^ 


'■\ 


N   TOWN    HE    PKOMI'TLV   AI'I'OIN  irci) 
UEI'UTY." 


\\ii.\r   iiai'I'i:ni;i)   at  'riiK   bhnd. 


the  nearest  railway  depot,  and  they  could  not 
get  a  stage  through  for  love  or  money.  An 
escort  of  troopers  was  impossible,  because  they 
were  all  engaged  — aided  by  scores  of  volunteer 
cowboys— in  suppressing  the  Indian  rising, 
while  the  miners  were  occupied  with  their  own 
troubles.  Thus  it  came  about  that  the  road- 
agents  had  things  mostly  their  own  way  :  also 
that  a  notice  was  posted  up  outside  tiie  com- 
pany's offices  offering  five  hundred  dollars  to 
anvone  who  would  successfully  drive  the  staue 
through  to  .Sundon  and  return  with  the  mails. 
The  journey  there  and  back  was  roughly 
eighty  miles,  over  anything  but  a  model  road, 
consisting  chiefly  of  a  sandy  trail  across  the 
plateau  to  the  backbone  of  mountains  which 
ran  through  its  centre ;  these  were  pierced 
by  a  deep  and  narrow  canyon,  half-way  up 
the  right  -  hand  wall  of  which  the  road  ran 
for  a  mile  along  a  shelf  of  rock  twelve  feet 
wide,  seemingly  hung  between  heaven  and  earth. 
This  road  sloped  steeply  to  a  sharply  curving 
bend  at  its  centre,  bounded  on  the  left  by  a 
perpendicular  cliff  two  thousand  feet  high,  and 
on  the  right  by  a  low  wall  three  feet  high,  the 
sole  barrier  between  the  traveller  and  a  sheer 
drop  of  eight  hundred  feet  to  the  rocks  and 
raging  torrent  below  I  A  glance  over  the  frail 
rampart  at  this  point  into  the  shadow-haunted 
depths  beneath  was  enough  to  make  the 
strongest  draw  back  with  shuddering  dread  and 
speculate  with  horror  upon  the  results  of  a  spill. 
And  so  little  would  cause  one  :  a  second's  loss 
of  nerve,  the  fall  of  a  horse,  an  unexpected 
obstacle,  and — eternity! 

I  have  said  the  road  was  twelve  feet  wide, 
but  in  places  it  was  barely  nine,  especially  at 
the  bend — "Bloody  Bend,"  as  it  was  known 
locally,  on  account  of  the  loss  of  life  for  which 
it  was  responsible.  Here  the  sand  and  refuse 
from  the  rain-washed  cliff  above  had  drifted 
against  the  low  wall  in  a  solid,  sloping  bank. 
But  this  bank  of  drift,  though  an  ever-present 
source  of  danger,  could  also  be  converted  into  a 
means  of  safety  in  an  emergency — as  will 
appear  later. 

1  thought  of  the  road  and  its  natural  dangers, 
then  of  the  artificial  ones  in  the  shape  of  road- 
agents  and  ]jossible  bands  of  prowling  Indians, 
but  I  thought  most  seriously  of  all  about  the 
pay.  l-'ive  hundred  dollars  —  one  hundred 
pounds,  roughly  —  wa.s  worth  a  little  risk,  I 
i^uicied.  Besides,  I  was  terribly  hard  up,  and 
inclined  to  take  almost  any  chance  to  recoup 
my  e.xhausted  finances.  Another  thing.  I  was  a 
good  whip,  and  had  been  coached  in,  and  then 
complimented  upon,  my  handling  of  a  team  by 
the  most  accomplished  exponent  of  the  art  in 
England— his  (Irace  the  late  Duke  of  Beaufort : 


also  I  had  unlimited  conlidinc  i    i;i  mv-t  :• 
is  a  useful  possession  in  a  tigiil  curuei.       ; ..  ., 
fore,    I    thought    I    would   go    in  and    %fe   the 
manager.      I    did   so,  stating  my   wil-  i.j 

try  and  take  the  (xjach  through.  He  t\.u  me 
keenly  for  a  full  minute,  and  then  said  :  "(luess 
you  know  it's  almost  certain  death  ?  " 

"So  I've  heard,  but  I  imagine  the  dollars  are 
more  certain,"  I  replied. 

He  nodded  and,  smiling  grimly,  observed : 
"  Vou  can  drive  six,  I  reckon  ?  ' 

"  Anything  from  a  Shetland  pony  to  a  steam- 
engine,"  .said  I. 

"And  shoot?" 

"Just  a  trifle,"  I  replied,  adding,  cujiuuiiy, 
"  Long  Jim  taught  me  to  handle  a  '  gun  '  I  ' 

"  Is  that  so  ?  Waal,  I  guess  you'll  do,  for 
he's  the  slickest  shot  I  ever  saw.  Say,  when  will 
you  be  ready  to  start?'  he  concluded,  briskly. 

"  Now,"  i  returned,  briefly. 

"  Good  I  "  he  exclaimed,  and  added,  quickly, 
"  I'll  get  the  horses  hitched-to  and  the  mail- 
bags  and  parcels  stowed  away  in  the  coach  at 
once,  and  you  can  start  in  an  hour.  I  reckon 
you  won't  be  troubled  with  an  overflow  of 
passengers,''  he  concluded,  drily. 

I  nodded,  and  observed  I  hoped  he  would 
keep  the  start  a  secret,  to  prevent  information 
reaching  the  road-agents,  as  I  was  not  keen  on 
a  fight  if  one  could  be  avoided  I 

Then  I  went  up  to  Tim's  and  borrowed  a 
second  revolver,  dropped  in  on  the  sheriff  and 
his  deputy  and«said  good-bye,  and  reached  the 
stage  office  as  the  coach  and  six  were  being 
brought  round  to  the  front.  I  catefully  inspected 
the  horses'  shoes,  the  traces,  and  every  buckle  of 
the  harness,  also  the  bits  and  leins.  There  were 
no  passengers,  but  the  coach  was  filled  inside 
and  out  with  bags  and  parcels,  and  nicely 
balanced  on  its  springs.  The  horses  were 
beauties,  a  trifle  fresh,  perhaps,  and  fidgety 
after  their  weeks  of  idleness,  but  good  'uns 
to  go— which  was  what  I  wanted.  As  I 
took  my  seat  on  the  box  quite  a  little  crowd 
collected,  and  as  I  gathered  up  the  ribbons 
"One-lCyed  Pete,"  the  guard,  hurried  up  and 
attemfjted  to  take  his  accustomed  place.  He 
had  been  with  the  coach  on  its  last  three 
journeys  and  had  come  throui^h  >.i' 
each  of  his  unfortunate  drivers  ha  . 

shot  in  the  back,  too !  Of  course,  it  may 
have  been  only  a  coincidence,  but  I  had  no 
desire  to  figure  as  a  fourth  :  therefore  I  said  : 
"  All  right,  Bete,  you  n«vdn't  hurry.  \ou're 
not  wanted  this  trip 

"Not  wanted  I  U  i;a:  iii  tiiunini  u>"  ym 
mean?  I'm  guard  of  thi>  coach  and  I  guess  I 
travel  with  her— every  time,  too  1 "  he  concluded, 
viciously. 


422 


THE     WIDE    WORLD    iMAGAZINE. 


"  Not  when  I'm  on  the  box,  Pete,"  I  laughed  ; 
and  then,  slowly,  "I  guess  you're  too  unlucky — 
to  the  drivers." 

The  men  had  by  this  time  gathered  in  a  big 
crowd  to  see  the  start,  and  greeted  my  sally  with 
roars  of  laughter.  I  had  the  reins  in  my  left 
hand  and  my  right  on  the  butt  of  my  revolver, 
which  I  had  wedged  between  the  cushions  to  be 
handy  ;  also  I  had  the  corner  of  my  eye  on  Pete. 
As  his  hand  flew  to  his  "gun,"  I  jerked  mine 
clear  and  covered  him  in  a  flash,  remarking  : 
"  Hands  up,  Pete  !     I've  got  the  drop  on  you." 

He  put  his  hands  up  suddenly,  and   his  one 


speaking,  because  I  had  the  drop  on  him  and 
had  made  up  my  mind  to  dispense  with  his  ser- 
vices at  any  risk,  knowing  the  former  course 
would  be  less  dangerous  than  his  company. 

Long  Jim  had  whispered  a  word  to  his  chief 
during  my  reply,  and  at  its  termination  he 
stepped  up  to  Pete  and  said  :  "  Guess  you've 
got  to  come  with  me,  sonny  ;  what  the  younker 
says  is  about  O.K. ;  if  you  didn't  do  the  actual 
shootin'  I  reckon  you  know  who  did.  So  I 
arrest  you  on  suspicion." 

Pete  glared  fiendishly  at  me  for  a  second,  and 
then   turned   to   Long   Jim   with   a   sour  laugh. 


(I.I    r.     \    I  I  ,\-  H.    K1-.  >i 


eye  glared  at  mc  vindictively.  J'ortunately,  the 
sheriff  arrived  at  that  moment  and  took  in  the 
situation  at  a  glance.  "Got  no  use  f(jr  a 
guard,  English  Frank?"  he  asked,  addressing 
me  by  the  nickname  1  was  best  known  by  in 
the  mining  camps. 

"  Not  a  cent's  worth.  There's  enough  danger 
ahead  without  carrying  any  behind,"  1  rejoined, 
grimly,  amid  the  renewed  laughter  and  apjjroving 
nods  of  the  assembled  miners.  All  had  enter- 
tained suspicions  concerning  Pete,  but  as  he 
was  very  free  with  his  "  gun  "  and  would  shoot 
at  a  w^ord— and  accurately,  too— they  had  in- 
dulged in  whispers  only.     I  had  no  hesitation  in 


and  said  :  "  You're  takin'  big  chances,  dcput\-, 
and  I  guess  I'll  make  you  sit  up  for  this." 

"Likely  enough,"  returned  Long  Jim,  coolly, 
"  if  you're  not  hung  first  !  "  The  crowd  grinned 
expansively.  Li  the  momentary  diversion  which 
followed  Pete  \vhip{)ed  out  his  revolver  and, 
turning  like  a  flash,  fired  point-blank  at  me. 
There  were  three  almost  simultaneous  r(L'])orts, 
antl  he  drop[)ed  in  his  tracks,  shot  through  the 
head  in  lw(j  places. 

"  I'm  sorry,  [wrd.  1  thought  you  were  off 
guard,"  said  the  sheriff  to  me,  as  he  replaced  his 
smoking  revolver  on  his  hip.  I  might  have 
been,  but  I  had  half  expected  something  of  the 


WllAl      llAri'KNHl)    A  I      nil.     |;KNL). 


42T 


kind,  so  I  had  kept  my  eye  on  the  guard.  I 
nodded  and  smiled  my  thanks,  and  carefully 
reloaded  the  empty  chamber  of  my  revolver. 
Then  calling  to  the  "boys"  to  stand  clear,  I 
trotted  the  team  a  little  way  up  the  road  and 
swung  them  round  smartly  and  was  off— with 
the  cheers  and  hearty  good  wishes  of  the  crowd 
in  my  ears  and  a  queer  feeling  in  my  heart,  half 
exultation,  half  dread — on  the  drive  that  was  to 
prove  the  most  wildly  thrilling  and  dangerous 
one  of  my  career — a  drive  which  gave  rise  to  the 
most  appalling  and  bloodcurdling  catastrophe 
I  have  ever  witnessed  or  expect  to  witness. 
Even  now  I  go  through  it  all  at  times  in  mv 
dreams  and  wake  with  a  cry  and  in  a  cold 
sweat  as  its  last  terrible  incident  takes  form  in 
my  mind. 

The  first  eighteen  miles  I  negotiated  in  safety 
and  tranquillity  and  at  a  fair  pace  ;  then  I  eased 
the  horses  slightly  and  got  them  well  in  hand 
for  the  effort  that  was  to  carry  us  safely 
through  the  dangers  of  the  ledge-made  road 
and  its  terrible  downhill  sweep  to  "  Bloody 
Bend,"'  and  the  last  mad  gallop  up  the  steep 
ascent  beyond  to  the  post-house  and  safety. 
If  I  was  stop[)ed  anywhere  it  would  be 
while  descending  the  steep  decline  at  the  usual 
slipping-sliding  walk  while  all  my  energies  were 
concentrated  in  keeping  the  horses  on  their 
feet ;  that  was  when  and  where  all  previous 
robberies  had  been  accomplished.  And  there 
was  only  one  way,  and  that  a  desperate  one.  of 
deteating  the  aims  of  any  who  might  be  waiting 
for  me  at  that  spot — to  take  the  descent  atagallo[), 
swing  round  the  sharply  curving  bend,  and 
up  the  opposite  hill  as  fast  as  the  horses  could 
go.  It  might  mean  death,  and  a  sudden  and 
horrible  one.  A  touch  or  a  falter  would  do  it, 
but  it  was  possible  that  I  might  just  scrape 
through.  If  I  proceeded  tamely  atid  halted  at  the 
word,  the  half-bred  mongrel  who  led  the  road- 
agents  would  shoot  me  for  a  certainty,  and  for  the 
sheer  lust  of  killing.  I  preferred  a  galUjp  and 
the  slight  chance  of  avoiding  both  bullet  antl 
abyss  which  it  afforded. 

When  within  a  (juarter  of  a  mile  of  the  head 
of  the  pass  I  noticed  four  horsemen  trot  out  of 
the  pine-scrub  on  the  right,  turn  on  to  the  ledge, 
and  slowly  descend  towards  the  bend.  Word 
had  evidently  reached  the  gang  of  the  departure 
of  the  stage,  and  they  were  bound  for  the  oUl 
spot  of  interception.  It  was  too  risky  to  attat  k 
the  coach  on  the  open  |)lain  and  in  broad  day- 
light, because,  for  all  they  knew,  I  might  have 
picked  up  one  or  two  passengers  on  the  cross- 
roads faither  back,  whose  ready  revolvers  could 
have  been  used  with  effet  t  ;  but  on  the  narrow 
ledge  it  was  different.  There,  passengers  or  no 
pas.sengers,    the   odds  were   all    in    their  favour. 


1  iic  >i^ul  sent  the  bluod  ui  a   iiur 
and    brain,    afterwards    leaving    u. 
collected,  and  with  nerves  strongly  braced  for 
the  coming   ordeal.      Leaning   far  for 
the   foot-board,   I   gripped  the   reins  ,,  .,   ,..,„,, 
and    bunched   them  securely   in  my  left  hand, 
[)lacing  my  smaller  Smith  and  Wesson  loosely 
in    my    belt,    as    the    handiest  place   to   get  at 
qui(  kly.     'I  hen   I   ."-tood   erect,    bracing   myself 
firmly — the    back  of  my  left   leg   hard  against 
the  seat,  and  the  right  outstretched  and  pressed 
against    the    ledge   of    the    foot  board.      Then, 
seizing    the    whip,    I    lashed    the   leaders   and 
centres  and    the    wheelers    into   a    gallop,    en- 
couraging them   with   voice  and  blows  into  ark 
even  more  furious  pace  as  I   toi>ped  the  slight 
rise  and  commenced   my  mad  career  down  the 
steep    slope    to    the    bend.      Placing    the    whip 
between     my     teeth     and     seizing     the    reins 
with   both    hands,    I   yelled    and   shouted  and 
tugged  hard  at  them  to  increase  the  speed  of 
the   already   half-maddened   and   flying,    but   as 
yet  perfectly  controlled,  animals.     I  had  caught 
up  and  was  almost  upon  the  slowly  descending, 
horsemen  in  an  instant.     At  my  cries  and  the 
din   of    my  approach   they  glanced    back   over 
their  shoulders,  and  for  a  brief  space  reined  ii* 
their  horses  appalled.     Then  three  dashed  spurs 
into   their  steeds   and  fled   forward,    while  one 
drew  quickly  to  the  left  and  flattened  himself 
and  his  mount  against  the  cliff.     It  was  a  vain 
hope  and  vainer  effort.     In  a  second  I  was  upoiii 
him,  in  another  my  team  had  flashed  by  ;  ther 
followed  a  crash  and  a  terror-stricken  yell,  and 
glancing  back  I   saw  a  riderless  horse  shi\ering 
against  the    side    of  the    cliff  in    spirit- broken 
fright.     I    could    only   guess    then    what    had. 
happened. 

I  was  within  a  hundred  yards  of  the  bend 
now,  and  could  give  neither  pity  if  I  possessed 
any — nor  thought  to  aught  but  the  desperate 
work  in  hand.  Taking  a  tighter  grij)  of  niy 
horses,  and  bracing  my  nerves  for  the  la>t  great 
effort  of  all,  I  slightly  touched  the  off-side  reins 
and  put  the  correspoiuling  wheels  yf  thi 
on  the  slanting  bank  of  dibris  I  hav-- 
refeired    to,    thus  giving  the  vehicle  ■rtl 

cant  towards  the  cliff  and  away  from  the 
abyss  that   yawned  dark  anil  awful  bi  •  ' 
away   on    my  right  I     I    hoped    this  ; 
would   counterbalance    the    outward    sw 
knew  would  occur  when 
at  the  terrific  pace  I  \\ 

smooth,  slip[)ery  rock  ;i  ng 

for  both  horses  and  wheels.      And  an   iij' 
Well,  it  meant  a  era-'  ■    '    •>     "  ■"    ■ 

pitching  into  the  d<  <-'*» 

and  drivt  i 

Hut    foriunaleiy    my    pian    an^wcted,    and    I 


4''4 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


-rounded  the  bend  at  a  gallop,  with  the  coach  at 
an  inturned  angle  of  fifteen  degrees.  Then 
happened  the  catastrophe  I     In  the  keen,  tense 

■  concentration  of  mind  necessary  for  steering  my 
:  maddened  team  round  the  curve  I  had  almost 

forgotten  the  three  horsemen  just  ahead  — not 
more  than  a  length  at  most.  And  their  presence 
came  home  to  me  with  a  shock.  As  we  all  tore 
■down  the  short,  but  still  sloping,  stretch  of  road 
beyond  the  bend  and  between  it  and  the  steep 

■  ascent  to  the  plateau  above,  the  leading  outlaw's 
.horse  stumbled,  the  others  cannoned  into  it,  and 

two  came  down  with  a  crash.     I  was  almost  on 

■  top  of  them,  and  quick  as  thought  I  lashed 
my  leaders  into  jumping  the  obstacle  before 
they  could  shy  or  swerve,  and,  with 

a  touch,  put  my  offside  wheels  on 
the  bank  again.  The  horse  of  the 
third  road-agent,  the  leader,  fright- 
ened at  the  uproar,  reared,  backed 
against  the  cliff,  and  then  bounded 
.across  the  road,  to  be  hit  heavily 
on  the  quarters  by  my  offleader. 
It  fell  right  across  the  low  wall, 
frantically  pawing  space  with  its 
forefeet.  Its  fear -stricken  rider 
tried  to  throw  himself  from  its 
back,  but  his  feet  caught  in  the 
stirrups,  and  horse  and  man  went 
■down,  down  through  the  air  to  the 
rocks  beneath.  Even  while  I 
glanced  at  them  the  coach  bumped 
itself  clear  of  the  bodies  of  horses 
and  riders,  and  I  was  free  to 
continue  my  way  up  the  ascent  at 
leisure. 

But  that  I  could  not  do ;  I  was 
too  shaken   and  appalled    to  stay 
near   the   spot   an    instant    longer 
than  the   utmost   speed    rendered 
necessary.      My  own  desire  was  to 
.get  away  from  it  and  the  horror  of 
it.      Now    that    the    danger    was 
passed    the  reaction    had    set    in, 
and   I  shrt'ered,  wet  through  with 
])erspiration   and  shaking  in  every 
limb.      I  lashed  my  panting  horses 
into  a  still  more  furious    j)ace    up  and   up  the 
-ascent,    over    the    ridge,    and   along    the    half 
mile    of     level     ground    to    the     post  -  house, 
where  the  appearance  of  the  stage  was  received 
with     mute    astonishment     at     first    and    then 
with  a  cheer,  which  instantly  ceased  a.s,  drop- 
ping  backwards   from   the   box,    I    turned    and 
faced  them,  red-eyed  and  haggard,   and    blindly 
staggered     to     the     bar,     whis|)ering     hoarsely, 
"  Whisky— brandy —water— anything  ;   quick  !  " 


and  hung  on  to  the  counter  for  support.  Eager, 
curious  looks  were  exchanged,  and  a  cowboy 
stepped  u|)  and  placed  his  hand  on  my  shoulder 
and  asked  kindly,  but  laconically,  "  Had  a 
shakin',  sonny  ?  ''  I  nodded.  I  couldn't  speak  ; 
I  had  a  glass  to  my  chattering  teeth  and  was 
trying  to  swallow.  "  Cherokee  Bill  try  to  stop 
you  ? "  (jueried  another.  Again  I  nodded. 
"  Then  how  did  you  get  through  ? "  asked  a 
third,  incredulously.  "  Because  I  took  the 
ledge  and  the  bend  at  a  gallop  and  rode  them 
down,"  I  blurted  out.  "  You'll  find  three  in 
the  road  back  there;  and  Bill— Bill  went  over 
the  wall,  horse  and  all.  Now  give  me  a  fresh 
team  ;  I'm  going  throuuh  to  Sundon." 


1 


UK   ASKfcl)    KINDLV,       IIAU    A    SHAKINt;,    SONNY 


They  did  so  nuikly  aiul  with  rapidit\.  1 
reached  my  destination  at  \\\\:  o'clock.  Two 
days  later,  escorted  by  six  cow-punchers,  who 
"  guessed  they  were  going  to  see  me  safely 
home,"  I  drove  the  coach  on  its  return  journey 
and  pulled  up  at  the  Express  Company's  office, 
sound  in  wind  and  limb,  and  drew  my  five 
hundred  dollars.  Three  days  later  I  took  up 
my  billet  of  clerk  to  my  old  friend  the  sheriff, 
del)t  free,  and  a  greatly  respected  man. 


A  Ji^Anr  IN  Spain 


-^ 


BAfTT  Kenneid 


HE  courier  who  accompanies  the 
verdant  British  traveller  through 
Spain  is  usually  a  most  interesting 
person.  He  knows  much  more  than 
is  good  for  the  traveller.  Circum- 
stances having  compelled  me  to  stay  in  (Iranada 
longer  than  1  expected.  I  have  had  many 
opportunities  of  studying  him  as  he  has  passed 
in  and  out  of  this  ancient  town  with  his  quarry. 
He  hails  from  (lihraltar,  where  he  has  hooked 
his  guileless  tourist-fisli.  He  is  a  pers(jn  of 
presence  and  understanding,  and  lias  villainy 
Avritten  all  over  him.  'I'he  Spaniards  call  him 
Lscorpion  de  la  Roca  (a  rock  scorjjion). 

It  is,  of  course,  needless  to  say  that  he  is 
violently  and  aggressively  and  most  patriotically 
l-^nglisii.  He  not  only  raises  his  hat.  hut  he 
kneels,  so  to  speak,  when  he  hears  the  National 
Anthem.  And  I  cant  say  that  I  wonder  at  it. 
The  Knglish  are  really  his  friends.  They  trust 
liim  with  their  pocket-books,  which  is  saying 
a  lot. 

-As  to  the  genesis  of  the  breed  of  the  courier 

well,  my  eyes  are  not  sharp  enough  to  fairly 

detect  it  ;  but   I   should  say  it  was  comple.s.      it 


V 


IV:  I N  Granada - 
COuF<iEf=<s, 
FbLICEMtN, 

Beggars 

•a  GIPSIEIS 


In  this  instalment  Mr.  Kennedy  gives  his 
impressions  of  Granada.  He  tells  of  the 
ways  and  wiles  of  the  courier  and  the 
beggar,  the  policeman  who  does  nothing, 
and  the  strange  gipsy  people  who  live  in 
the  mountain  caves.  That  the  unique 
undertaking  of  our  "  Tramp  in  Spain  " 
has  not  been  without  excitement  will  be 
apparent  from  the  instalment  which  will 
appear  in  our  next  issue,  wherein  our 
commissioner  narrates  a  remarkable  night 
adventure  which  happened  to  him  just 
before  leaving  Granada. 

seems  to  me  to  be  a  blend  of  Jewish  and 
Spanish,  with  a  colouring  dash  of  Sloor.  His 
English  is  strange  -  sounding  and  misleading. 
How  his  Spanish  is  I  don't  know. 

His  knowledge  is  all-embracing,  and  his 
honesty  and  probity  are  as  sound  and  as  solid 
as  the  Rock  from  whence  he  hails.  And  he  is  a 
great  linguist :  the  tongues  and  the  dialects  of 
the  earth  are  to  him  as  simple,  open  books. 

These  facts  he  will  tell  you  of  in  his  fluent, 
misleading  English.  You  will  probably  have 
only  a  faint  idea  of  the  other  things  he  dis- 
courses upon.  \'ou  will  most  likely  be  puzzled. 
But  you  will  have  no  doubt  at  all  as  to  his 
honesty  and  omniscience :  he  will  manage  to 
impress  it  vividly  uj)on  you.  He  is  a  {lerson 
who  realizes  the  value  of  iteration. 

One  of  these  couriers  has  just  done  me  out 
of  two  duros  (ten  pesetas).  1  can't  go  into  all 
the  details  of  the  transaction,  but  sutticient  is  it 
to  say  that  I  was  done— done  brown.  I  thought 
that  I  was  sharp  and  that  I  knew  the  ropes, 
but,  alas  I  when  I  thought  thus  1  had  no  idea 
that  the  time  would  come  to  pass  when  I  should 
have   to  measure  wits  with  a  rock  ui-  a 

couri-T  from  Ciibraliar.  .Vnd  not  >mii\  tud  this 
courier  do  me  out  of  two  tluros,  l)ut  he  ai.so 
p.ilmed  oHTa  bad  duro  on  me  as  a  climax.  Hut 
I  wish  him  well.      He  w.  '        '  st 

.uid  most  interesting  ^'  id 

the  good  fortune  to  i 

On  the  night  that  lie  did  mc  out  v>l  the  two 
tluros  we  drank  together  and  vowed  eternal 
friendship  for  each   other.      He    told    me    how 


Vul.  x._54. 


Copyright,  igoj,  by  George  Newnt*.  L'.milcil. 


426 


THE   WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


proud  and  glad  he  was  to  meet  me — a  man 
who  had  been,  as  I  had  been,  all  over  the 
world!  I  must  digress  slightly,  here,  and  say 
that  as  a  kind  of  balance  against  the  oft-recurring 
recital  of  his  deeds  of  honesty  and  omniscience 
I  had  been  forced  to  tell  him  of  some  stirring 
deeds  of  my  own  in  various  parts  of  the  planet. 
It  doesn't  do  to  allow  a  narrator  of  strong 
talent  to  have  things  too  much  his  own  way. 

His  English  was  a  trifle  less  unique  than  the 
English  of  couriers  in  general,  and  we  were, 
therefore,  able  to  understand  each  other  fairly 
well.  He  told  me  that  if  I  only  knew  French 
and  Spanish  I  would  have  made  a  first-class 
courier  myself.  This  may  not  have  been  a 
compliment  of  the  most  ethical  order,  but, 
coming  as  it  did  from  such  an  acute  and 
observant  quarter,  I  must  say  that  I  value  it  as 
endorsement  of  my  keenness  and  sharpness 
generally.   I  am  sure  that  he  meant  it  at  the  time. 

That  night  was  one  of  the  pleasantcst  and 
most   jovial  nights  of  my  life. 

It  was  not  till  the  day  but  one 
after  he  had  departed— with  his 
tourist    quarry  —  that    I    found 
out    how  he  had  done  me. 
But  I  don't  regret   it.      He 
was  an  interesting  man. 

But    let    us    come 
with    more  directness 
to  the  point  I  am  try- 
ing to  bring  out.    The 
only  good  reason  that 
an  Englishman  should 
take  a  courier  througli 
Spain  with  him  is  be- 
cause the  courier  has 
to  live.     A  man  who 
is    not    intelligent 
enough    to   ask    how 
much   he  is  going  to 
be  charged  at  an  hotel 
ought    to   do  one  of 
two  things — either  he 
ought  not  to  travel  at 
all    or    he  ought    to    travel    with     his 
parent.s.     Such  a  person  is  unfit  to  face 
this  rude,  bleak  world  alone.    His  going 
around  without  a  proper  guardian  only 
makes    it    harder  for  more    intelligent 
people  who  have  less  cash.     He  raises 
the  price  of  things. 

A  courier  is  simply  a  man  who  tells 
ties  in  bad  English.  To  the  student  ol 
human  nature  he  is,  of  course,  in- 
valuable—a mine.  He  is  worth  what- 
ever price  he  may  think  fit  -  or  Ite  able 
—  to  exact.  But  he  is  no  use  what- 
soever to  the  verdant,   trustful   British 


tourist  whom  he  is  leading  blindfold,  so  to  speak, 
through  Spain.  Besides  robbing  him  at  every 
hand's  turn  his  information  concerning  things 
has  at  best  but  an  individual  value  :  I  mean 
individual  in  the  sense  that  it  is  original  with 
the  courier — his  very  own.  He  is  a  man  with  a 
strong,  confident  imagination. 

And  there  is  another  point.  His  quarry— or, 
rather,  his  tourist — can't  call  his  soul  his  own. 
A  person  who  lakes  a  courier  to  lead  him  by  the 
hand  is  naturally  a  person  not  over-endowed 
with  strength  of  head  or  character.  And  the 
result  is  that  he  must  do  what  the  courier  says. 
He  must  go  here  or  there  or  see  this  or  that 
according  to  orders.  He  has  sold  his  soul 
through  laziness. 

I  remember  one  day  talking  to  a  tourist  out- 
side the  hotel,  and  just  as  we  were  in  the  middle 
of  the  conversation  his  courier  came  up  and 
positively  ordered  him  to  come  away.  Some- 
thing  had   to  I'e  seen  !     The  tourist  was  in  no 

\  iolent  hurry  to  see  this  thing — 

whatever  it  was— ;but  he  went  off 

like  a  lamb. 

It    may    be,    of    course,    that 

there  are  couriers  who  at  once 


r 


!^' 


IIK    WKNT    OPI-    1  IKl- 
A    LAMB.  ' 

know     all      places, 
know  all  languages, 
and    at    the    same 
tin  e  are   truthful  and  conscien- 
tious.     But   I  should  think  that 
they    were    the    rarest     of    rare 


A      IKAMI'     IN     STAIN. 


4-^ 


birds.  1  sliuukl  think  that  they  dun"t  often 
adorn  this  inconi[)letc  world  with  their  presenc  e. 

Kut  even  if  tliey  existed  it  would  be  much 
better  for  a  man  to  blunder  along  of  himself. 
The  only  way  to  get  to  know  anything  about  a 
people  or  a  country  is  to  try  your  level  best  to 
understand  them  or  it  yourself. 

I  go  at  some  length  into  this  question,  not 
from  any  particular  sympathy  with  the  verdant 
tourist.  The  law  of  life  has  it  that  a  pigeon 
must  be  plucked.  But  it  is  as  well  to  clear  the 
air.  It  is  as  well  to  explain  to  travellers 
generally  what  sort  of  a  man  the  courier  usually 
is — at  least  in  Spain — and  what  are  his  aims. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  there  doesn't  seem  to  be 
any  exact  or  reliable  information  about  any- 
thing in  Spain.  It  is  the  great  charm  of  the 
country.  And  the  courier  but  adds  to  this 
charm. 

liut  he  is  a  costly  luxury.' 

The  Spanish  policeman  is  a  mild,  inoffensive 
person  who  carries  a  revolver  and  a  long  sword. 
He  is  paid  at  the  rate  of  one  and  twopence  a 
day — English  money—  and  how  he  manages  at 
once  to  uphold  the  majesty  of  the  law  and  to 
keep  his  family  is  a  problem.  But  I  suppose 
he  solves  it  somehow.  Things  are  cheaper  in 
Spain  than  they  appear  to  the  foreigner. 

His  uniform  is  a  shabby  cross  between 
an  English  postman's  uniform  and  that  of 
a  Spanish  officer.  And  he  has  to  provide 
it  out  of  his  one  and  twopence  a  day. 

He  goes  slowly  about  doing  nothing — 
doing  it  in  a   modest,  unobtrusive  way. 
This   I  have  never  seen  in  a  policeman 
before.     And  here  I  must  say  that  differ- 
ent    policemen     have    different    ways    of 
doing    nothing.       An     English 
policeman  does  it  with  dignity. 
An  American   policeman    does 
it  with   truculence.     A  French 
policeman  does  it  autocratically. 
But  a  Spanish  policeman  does 
it  with  modesty. 

I  like  him.  He  can't  tell  me 
much  about  anything,  but  still 
I  like  him.  There  is  a  live- 
and-let-live  air  about  him  :  an 
air  that  I  have  never  before 
seen  hovering  about  a  (Govern- 
ment official. 

He  is  a  (juick  shifter  of 
aguardiente. 

The  Spanish  beggar  is  a 
different  person  altogether  from 
the  Spanish  policeman.  He 
has  boldness  and  craft  and  in- 


sistence^and,  indeed,  every  (juality  tliat  goes  for 
the  making  of  success  in  the  world.  Why  such 
a  gifted  person  should  be  a  beggftr  I  don't 
know.      It  is  imjiossiblc  to  know  everything. 

He  gets  in  front  of  you,  he  comes  from 
behind,  he  conies  from  the  side — an  untiring, 
vigilant  person,  demanding  alms.  In  the 
beginning  he  calls  you  "  Senor ''  in  a  caressing 
voice.  Should  you  pass  him  by,  however,  the 
"Senor"  becomes  packed  to  the  full  with  scorn 
— something  like  the  "Thank  you'."'  of  the 
London  cabman  when  you  have  given  him  his. 
just  and  proper  fare.  Should  you  give  him 
alms  he  often  enough  asks  for  n)ore. 

Perhaps  he  is  at  his  worst  when  he  is  young. 
When  he  is  old  you  have  some  slight  chance  of 
getting  away  from  him  by  walking  fast.  But 
when  he  is  young,  and  the  weather  is  hot,  you 
must  either  give  him  something  or  suffer.      He 


IKINU,    VI' 


428 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MA(;AZINE 


will  tollow  you  for  a  mile  or  more  if  necessary, 
deluging  you  at  every  step  with  interesting 
allusions  to  his  poverty  and  your  own  grandeur 
of  appearance  and  natural  goodness  of  heart 
and  benevolence.  Vou  may  not  know  a  word 
of  Spanish,  but  you  will  know  he  is  telling 
you  that  you  are  the  finest  thing  that  ever 
happened,  and  that  he  is  very,  very  hungry. 
Vou  can  feel  that  he  is  telling  you  this.  He 
has  the  art  of  making  himself  understood.  He 
does  not  look  hungry,  but  he  has  a  liungry 
voice.  In  fact,  the  beggars  of  Spain  look 
remarkably  well-conditioned.  They  are,  of 
course,  not  dressed  well.  Often  they  are  in 
rags.     But  then  they  are  artists. 

One  hot  day  I  was  coming  up  the  steep  road 
that  leads  to  the  Alhambra.  It  was  the  sort  of 
a  hot  day  that  is  really  hot.  No  surface  heat 
such  as  one  gets  in  London,  but  a  heat  that  got 
right  into  your  blood.  I  was  wishing  that  I 
was  somewhere  else  than  in  the  South  of  Spain. 

Suddenly,  as  I  was  toiling  wearily  along,  two 
beggars  of  the  youthful  variety  came  out  of  the 
shade  of  some  trees  and  tackled  me.  I  groaned. 
I5y  this  time  I  had  been  tackled  by  so  many 
beggars  that  I  fear  I  had  become  hardened  to 
the  expression  of  their  woes.  I  had  become 
uncharitable. 

"  Cinco  centimos,  sefior  I  "  they  demanded, 
as  they  got  one  on  either  side  of  me. 

I  turned  and  swore  at  them. 

But  it  was  of  no  use.  They  smiled  and  told 
me  how  good-looking  I  was.  "Bonita  senor 
— buena  senor.  Cinco  centimo.s,  seiior  ;  cinco 
centimos  I " 

"  Anda  !  "  (go)  I  shouted. 

"Tengo  mucha  hambre  —  mucha  hambre, 
sefior."     (I  am  very  hungry — very  hungry,  sir.) 

I  knew  well  what  they  were  saying,  for  1  had 
heard  it  so  often.  I  knew  it  by  heart.  And  1 
would  have  given  them  ten  centimes  eacli  to 
go,  but  I  knew  from  experience  that  this  would 
not  have  been  effective — at  least  not  in  this 
case.  They  would  have  still  followed  me  on 
general  principles. 

They  kept  by  me  as  I  toiled  in  the  heat  u[) 
the  steep  road.  Their  voices  and  them.selves 
surrounded  and  oppressed  nie.  I  had  no  idea 
what  to  do.  (iiving  them  money  would  not 
have  absolved  me  from  their  company.  I  was 
in  for  it. 

P'inally,  I  suppose  it  nuisl  have  dawned  upon 
them  that  1  would  give  them  nothing,  for  their 
remarks  began  to  take  a  scornful  and  abusive 
turn.  "  Malo  hombre  !  "  (bad  man).  "  Malo  ! " 
they  began  to  shout. 

And  then  they  dropped  suddenly  behind. 

I    began    to    breathe    with    more    ease    and 


freedom.  1  hud  beaten  them  after  all  !  But 
just  as  I  was  congratulating  myself  a  stone 
whizzed  past  my  ear.  I  turned,  and  there  they 
were,  something  over  fifty  yards  away.  Ojie  of 
them  was  in  the  act  of  aiming  a  stone  at  me, 
whilst  the  other  was  gathering  some  up  from 
the  road. 

I  dodged  and  ran  towards  them.  But  they 
slipped  in  amidst  the  trees  on  the  side  of  the 
road.  I  might  as  well  have  tried  to  chase  the 
wind.  So  I  turned  and  made  up  to  the 
Alhambra  as  fast  as  I  could.  An  idea  had 
occurred  to  me. 

All  the  while  the  stones  kept  flying  past  me, 
but  I  took  no  notice.  And  in  time  they  ceased 
altogether.  It  would  not  do  for  them  to  follow 
me  too  far  up. 

At  last — at  last  I  was  talking  with  my  friend, 
old  Jose  Lara,  a  Spanish  policeman.  With 
many  gestures,  and  a  word  or  two  of  vigorous, 
bad  Spanish,  I  made  j)lain  to  him  what  had 
happened. 

He  was  most  indignant.  And  as  I  had  taken 
the  precaution  of  giving  him  a  peseta  in  advance 
his  indignation  soon  mounted  up  to  working 
pitch.  I  suggested  pursuit  and  he  agreed,  and 
we  started  to  run  down  the  road  together. 

Ah  !  There  they  were  ! — just  sli[)ping  out  of 
the  trees  nearly  a  hundred  yards  in  front  of  us. 
I  shouted  out,  and  Jose  Lara  valorously  tried  to 
draw  his  sword.  It  was  this  confounded  draw- 
ing of  the  sword  that  undid  us,  for  it  enabled 
the  beggars  to  improve  the  start  they  already 
had.  Poor  old  Jose  tripped  and  fell  as  he  was 
trying  to  get  it  out  of  the  scabbard,  and  I  had 
to  stop  and  pick  him  up. 

He  was  u[)  now,  running  alongside  me  and 
waving  his  sword.  He  was  hardly  the  most 
effective  ally  I  could  have  had,  but  he  repre- 
sented the  law.  He  clothed  my  pursuit  of  the 
beggars,  so  to  speak,  with  dignity  and  legality. 
I  represented  force,  he  represented  law,  but  the 
beggars  represented  swiftness  I 

And  the  beggars  won. 

Whi-n  they  were  altogether  out  of  sight  we 
slopped  to  take  breath.  And  then  Lara  be- 
thought him  of  his  whistle.  He  got  it  from 
his  pocket  and  blew,  and  in  a  moment  there 
appeared  three  more  policemen,  to  whom  Lara 
recounted  the  story  of  t'.ie  hajjpening.  They 
were  becoming  indignant.  And  then  Lara 
sheathed  his  sword.  The  incident  was  closed. 
I  gave  him  another  peseta  and,  taking  his  arm. 
I  came  back  with  him  up  the  road. 

After  all,  everything  has  its  uses,  everything 
performs  some  duty.  I'hilosoj)hy  has  it  so,  and 
1  am  drivn  to  the  conclusion  that  philosophy 
is  right.  The  beggars  of  (iranada  perform  the 
duty  of  keeping  the  town  awake. 


\      I  KAMI'     IN     SI'AIN. 


a:^) 


"poor    old     JOSE     TRII-I'EO    AND    FEl.l.   AS    HE   WAS     TRYING     TO   GET 
IT   OUT   OF   THE   SCABRAKD." 

It  is  the  slowest  and  sleepiest  town  I  was 
ever  in.  Nothing  ever  goes  on,  no  one  ever 
does  anything.  And,  like  the  policemen,  the 
people  of  (Iranada  do  nothing  in  an  honest, 
modest,  unobtrusive  manner.  At  a  glance  you 
can  tell  that  they  are  doing  nothing  and  that 
they  never  intend  to  do  anything.  Granada  is 
a  town  that  sleeps  under  the  shadow  of  great 
mountains.  A'isitors  come  from  the  outside 
world  to  see  the  Alhambra.  lUit  when  tiiey 
walk  through  the  streets  of  (Iranada  they  are 
manifestly  out  of  [jlace.  'ihey  are  foreign, 
bustling,  disturbing  human  atoms. 

But  for  the  beggars  (Iranada  would  sleep  and 
sleep  till  it  died.  They  embody  insistence, 
persistence,  and  tireless,  indomitable  energ\-. 

'i'o  me  the  most  impressive  thing  in  the 
cathedral  of  (Iranada  is  the  tomb  wherein  lie 
Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  the  Reyes  Catolicos 
(Catholic  Kings).  'I'he  cathedral  itself  is  in  no 
way  to  be  compared  with  the  cathedral  in 
Seville — that  is,  from  the  standpoint  of  sublimity 
of  effect.  I  can't  imagine  a  more  wonderful 
place  than  the  .Seville  Cathedral.      It   is  as   if  it 


were  the  work  of  a  power  muic  tlun 
human. 

The  cathedral  of  Cranada  is  < 
l^ig,  ornate,  curiously  built  rhurcli.     i 
was  in  no  way  miprcssed  or  tlirill'-'  '-> 
it.       True,    it    has   some   magm: 
altar-pieces  done  by  an  Italian  artist. 
Hut  a  church  cannot   be  judged  as  a 
church    by   any    individual    art 
work  that  it  possesses,  liowevcr 
great.     It  mu^t  I'.-  judged  by  the 
measure  it  gives  ol   the  effect  it 
was    intended   to  give— that   of 
^ublimily   and   awe.      And    the 
( athedral    of    Cranada    has    no 

\more    the    effect  of    a    place  of 
worship     than     has    St.     I'aul's 
Cathedral   in  London.       In  the 
cathedral  of  .Seville  the  impulse 
to  kneel   might  well  come  upon 
one.      But    in   the  cathedral  of 
Granada  one  simply  feels  curious 
— just  as  one  might  feel  in  .some 
museum  filled  with  unique  trea 
sures  and  objects  of  histor)-  and 
art.      One    walks   about.       One 
looks   here    and    there.      There   is    no  vague, 
.surrounding  effect  of  mystery  and  solemnity. 
One  is  not  in  a  place  of  (iod. 


The  Alhambra  is  the  expression  of  a  race 
near  to  death— of  a  race  that  had  lost  its  great- 
ness—its men.  There  is  no  vigour  in  it.  It 
has  grace  and  beauty  and  subtlety  and  charm — 
but  no  power.  One  can  well  understand  that 
tiie  race  that  built  the  cathedral  in  Seville  would 
have  the  power  to  crush  the  race  that  built  the 
Alhambra.  Architecture  is  the  key  to  the 
character  of  a  nation.  It  is  the  ultimate  ex 
pression  of  tlie  men  of  the  time. 

The  Alhambra  is  the  remains  of  a  groat 
harem — a  palace  of  pleasure  built  on  a  hill  :  a 
magical  and  marvellous  embudimcnt  of  sensu- 
ousness  and  the  enslavement  of  man  to  his 
senses  ;  a  place  of  fountains,  and  gardens,  anil 
courts,  and  slender,  effeminate,  marble  pillar^  ; 
a  monument  of  voluptuousness,  subtle,  and 
strange,  and  deadly:  and  a  place  of  crui  • 
Stories  are  told  of  terrible  hap[)enings.  In  oin. 
of  the  courts  a  family  was  extirpated. 

Ci/fs/ti  de  los  Mucrtos  (the  Road  of  the  Dead). 
When    the    moon     shiiu^    brii^htlx 
strange  road   it   illunune*-   llu< c  m.i-. 
towers.     They  were   built  in  the  beginning  by 
the  Moors   when    the   .Moors   were  men.   when 
they  were  in  their  strength.     They  are  the  places 
wherein  lived  the  Mohammedan  soldiers  of  the 
guard.     From  them  was  kept  the  watch  v 
the  day.  and   through  the  night,  and   ii...,ut.. 


430 


THE    AVIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


the  years.  From  them  rang  the  challenging 
voices  of  Arab  sentinels.  Three  massive  square 
towers.  From  them  at  sunrise  rang  out  the 
clear  voices  of  the  East  in  prayer.  Three 
towers  which  tell  of  the  time  when  the  Moors 
were  austere  and  strong — when  they  would  have 
hurled  the  Spaniards  back  from  Granada. 
These  towers  are  of  the  time  when  the  Moors 
fasted  and  prayed  and  were  heroes.  They 
guarded  the  palace — the  Alhambra  that  in  the 
end  became  the  sign  of  enervation  and  death  — 
that  sheltered  a  Boabdil. 

These  noble  and  beautiful  towers  that  stand 
along  the  Road  of  the  Dead  :  for  hours  I 
have  stood  and  watched  them  as  they  showed 
forth  clearly  in  the  light  of  the  moon.  I  have 
stood  in  their  shadows  and  listened  for  the  clank 
of  the  ste{)s  of  the  sentries  —  sentries  that  were 
gone  seven  hundred  years.  And  it  seemed  to 
me  as  if  I  heard  the  ghost-sounds  of  the  steps 
of  soldiers  as  they  were  moving  on  guard.  It 
seemed  as  if  the  towers  were  filled  with  the 
ghosts  of  fighting-men — as  if  sounds  came  of 
the  steps  and  the  moving  of  soldiers,  and  of  the 
clank  of  arms— sounds  living  in  the  strange, 
deep  silence  and  darkness  of  the  past. 

I  care  nothing  for  the  curious  and  wonderful 
palace  of  the  Alhambra,  with  its  pillars  and 
courts  and  gardens.  But  I  have  reverence  for 
these  three  Moorish  towers  that  stand  along  the 
Road  of  the  Dead. 

In  them  lived  men. 

Gipsies  have  lived  here  in  caves  in  the  side 
of  the  mountain  througli  hundreds  of  years. 
IJefore  that  they  lived  in  an  unsettled  way  in 
the  mountains  that  surround  Granada.  Where 
they  came  from  in  the  first  place  no  one  knows. 
They  were  here  in  the  time  of  the  Moors.  They 
were  here  in  the  time  of  the  Romans.  Their 
ancestors  saw  the  gleam  from  the  swords  of 
Roman  soldiers  as  they  marched  along  in  the 
distance  of  the  valley  beneath  them. 

The  Albiacin.  This  is  the  name  of  the 
fjuarter.  It  joins  Granada,  but  it  is  as  distinct 
from  Granada  as  the  gipsies  are  from  the 
Spaniards  themselves.  The  few  Spaniards  that 
are  here  look  strange  and  foreign  and  out  of 
place. 

It  has  one  rough,  tortuous  street  that  follows 
by  the  mountain  face.  On  one  side  of  this 
street  are  the  caves  where  the  gipsies  live— on 
the  other  side  the  great  valley  stretches  out  and 
down.  The  sierras  tower  u[)  behind  the 
Albiacin,  and  again  ihey  tower  u|)  in  llie  dis- 
tance across  tiie  stretch  of  the  valley.  It  is  a 
strange  place. 

There  are  crosses  here  and  there  in  the 
rough,  tortuous  street,  but  they  belong  no  more 


to  the  Albiacin  than  do  the  Spaniards.  They 
are  out  of  harmony.  The  religion  of  the  gipsy 
goes  back  far  beyond  the  religion  of  the 
Christian  or  even  the  religion  of  the  Jew. 

The  gi[)sies  are  an  old  people.  Their  impulse 
of  worship  belongs  to  a  lime  that  is  dead  tens 
of  thousands  of  years — a  time  primal  and  old 
as  the  sierras  themselves.  It  may  be  that  the 
gipsies  are  unconscious  of  the  fact  that  this 
impulse  is  an  impulse  of  worship.  It  may  be 
that  they  have  forgotten  the  far-distant  traditions 
of  their  race.  But  this  impulse  of  worship  lives 
in  their  blood.  It  finds  expression  in  a  strange 
dance. 

The  gipsies  beg,  but  they  beg  with  an  air. 
They  have  grace  and  self-poise  and  the  subtle, 
mysterious  charm  that  is  called  manner  — that 
only  exists  in  people  that  for  a  long  time  have 
come  in  an  unbroken  line  from  the  same  people 
— that  fine,  subtle  charm  that  surrounds  the 
personality  as  an  atmosphere  -manner.  The 
gipsies  possess  it.  It  shows  in  their  carriage,  in 
their  eyes,  in  their  gestures,  in  their  dress.  The 
little  half-naked  children  have  it  as  they  come 
up  in  the  bright  sun  to  ask  for  cop[)ers. 

I  was  in  the  cave  and  Lola  was  dancing  a 
dance  of  strange  rhythm.  The  light  from  a 
lamp  above  fell  upon  her  face,  which  was  aflame 
with  a  strange  expression.  The  rest  of  the  cave 
was  in  darkness.  I  could  hardly  make  out  the 
forms  of  those  who  sat  round  watching  the 
dance. 

The  light  was  full  upon  Lola  as  she  moved  in 
the  dance.  Her  great,  dark  eyes  shone  as  fire 
shines  in  darkness.  Her  body  swayed  and 
undulated  to  music  that  had  lived  since  the 
beginning  of  her  race. 

She  was  a  priestess  now,  and  performing  a 
sacred  rite--a  rite  coming  from  a  time  when 
was  worshipped  tlie  tremendous  mystery  of  life 
itself  She  was  a  reincarnation  of  some  Lola 
that  had  lived  thousands  upon  thousands  of 
years  before.  She  knew  not  that  she  was  a 
priestess  ;  but  the  spell  of  the  old,  long  gone 
time  had  come  to  life  in  her  blood. 

There  were  times  when  she  danced  softly, 
and  there  were  times  when  her  dancing  was 
wild  and  ex[)ressed  the  vigour  and  the  magic 
and  the  joy  of  life.  And  times  when  there  was 
devilry  in  it — strange,  sinister  devilry,  expressing 
hate  and  destruction. 

Around  the  scent!  was  darkness.  It  was  as  if 
darkness  enclosed  a  llame  antl  the  flame  en- 
closed Lola — as  if  she  were  the  priestess  Lola 
that  had  been  summoned  by  the  might  of  some 
terrible  spell  from  a  time  long  dead  and  forgotten 
— sunmioned  in  a  lialo  of  flame  to  perform  in  this 
cave  a  Phallic  rile. 


A     TRAM  I'     IN     SPAIN. 


Her  arms  waved  strangely; 
her  body  moved  to  the  weird 
music.  And  I  began  to  think 
of  this  dance  as  it  was  danced 
in  the  past  under  the  full 
hghl  of  the  sun.  Wliat  manner 
of  people  were  they  that  wit 
nessed  it  in  the  time  gone  by 
tens  of  thousands  of  years? 
Were  the  secrets  of  life  and  of 
the  worlds  laid  open  before 
them  ?  Were  they  a  race  past 
us  as  angels  would  be  past 
men  ?  \\'here  had  they  gone? 
^\■hat  had  become  of  them? 
\\'as  all  that  was  left  of  their 
memorv  but  a  single  rite  of 
their  religion  ?  —  this  dance 
that  expressed  the  beauty  and 
mystery  of  the  body. 

It  had  now  become  wonder- 
ful, maddening,  here  in  the 
dark  cave.  It  fired  the  blood, 
and  still  it  had  in  it  an  in- 
fluence of  fear.  It  caught  and 
lifted  one,  and  still  left  one 
trembling  as  though  confronted 
in  the  darkness  with  something 
unknown. 

It  seemed  to  me  as  if  Lola 
had  been  dancing  through  a 
long,  long  time.  For  me  the 
moment  contained  years. 

It  is  not  years  that  make  up 
life.      It  is  the  vital,  supreme 
moment   that   comes   through 
the  lapse  of  time  as  the  oasis 
comes    in    the    desert.      One 
may  live  through   years   in  a 
moment.    And  through  such  a 
moment  I  passed  as  I  watched 
Lola  dance.     I  had  no  thought 
or   heed   for    those   who   were 
watching  with  me.      They  were    but   strangers 
whom    I    had    met   in    |)assing,    and    who    had 
come  here  with  me  to  the  cave.     'I'hey  would 
be  gone.       I    would    let    them    pass    from    my 
mind. 

A  great  rafter  stretched  across  the  roof  of  the 
cave.  From  it  peniled  the  lamp  that  bore  the 
flame  that  fell  upon  Lola.  The  body  of  the 
lamp  was  of  brass,  and  formed  into  the  shape  of 
a  serpent  lying  in  a  circle.  It  swayed  gently  as 
Lola  danced  beneath  it. 

And  now  the  music  grew  softer  and  Lola 
began  to  move  slowly  backwards  as  she  danced. 


HEK    AK.MS   WAVED   STKANOELV  ;    lltK    UUUY    .MUVEU   1u    IHb   MfclKU    MCiIl. 

And  the  music  grew  softer  and  softer  still,  and 
Lola  sank  to  the  ground,  l-'aintness  had  come 
upon  her. 

And  so  was  ended  this  strange  dance— this 
rite  of  the  religion  of  an  old  jKople     a  p 
older  than  the  oldest  of  the  worKi'>  hi^t.>ri 
peoplit  older  even  than  the  clilest  ul   liie  wir 
traditions.      They  lived   here  in  caves   in  the 
mountains,  a  strange  remnant 
people  who  had  once,   long,  .     _  .._,-.: 
power  and    of    might   in   the   world  —a  people 
who   hail    outlived   some   civilization,    magical, 
wonderful,  and  profound. 


(To  be  conlinued.) 


Jhc  Saldwin-^isgler  J^olar  S^cpedifion. 


By  E.  Briggs  Baldwin. 


II. 

An    authoritative    account    of    the    work   of    this    important    expedition,    written    by   the    leader    of    the 

party.      Mr.   Baldwin    illustrates  his  narrative  with  some   particularly  striking   photographs,  which  will 

give  our  readers  a  vivid  idea  of  the  rigours  attending  exploration  work  in  the  ice-bound  Arctic. 

violation  of  this  unwritten,  but  nevertheless 
universally  understood,  law  was  punishable  by 
death  at  the  hands — or  rather  teeth — of  the 
aggrieved  animals. 

During  violent  storms  it  was  absolutely  neces- 
sary to  turn  all  the  dogs  loose  in  order  to 
prevent  them  from  being  suffocated  by  the 
great  masses  of  snow,  which  at  times  formed 
a  great  white  snow-dome  over  the  camp.  On 
such    occasions    two    watchmen    were    always 


N  the  course  of  the  winter  wind 
and  weather  quite  covered  our  good 
ship  with  snow.  This  rendered  our 
abode  much  warmer  for  ourselves, 
and  also  afforded  a  convenient  bur- 
rowing place  for  such  of  the  dogs  as  were  of  a 
peaceful  disposition,  and  were,  therefore,  per- 
mitted to  run  at  large.  Round  the  ship  there 
accumulated  a  great  embankment  of  hard  snow, 
between  which  and  the  sides  of  the  vessel  many 


I'lOiii  a 


UnW     IllKEIC   or--     run    I'AKTV    LOOKED    AKTER    A    TOUK    OF    IN'srECTION    MADE    DL'KIN';    A    GALE. 


of  the  dogs  sought  protection  during  bad 
weather.  Between  these  dogs  and  those  on 
land  at  Camp  Ziegler  there  grew  up  a  deadly 
feud,  neither  party  permitting  a  member  of  the 
other  to  intrude  upon  its  sacred  precincts.     Any 


on  duty.  Tmmcdialcly  the  storm  was  over 
busy  scenes  attended  the  digging  out  of 
the  trenches  and  the  restoration  of  order. 
The  above  photograph  -  taken  by  flash- 
light —  shows    how    three    of    us   looked,    with 


Copyrighl,  1903,  by  CJeorge  Newnes,  Limited. 


I'lJi-:    i;aj.i)\\  i.\-/i]:(;i.i.K    i'oi.ak    i:.\I'I-.I)|  ik  )\. 


4'>  ■» 


the  snow  and  ice-particles  driven  into  our 
clothing  by  the  furious  wind,  immediately  after 
entering  the  deck-cabin  following  a  tour  of 
inspection  of  the  cam[)  and  observatories  in 
the  course  of  a  violent  gale  last  February. 
Near  the  feet  of  the  writer  is  shown  one  of  the 
ship's  lanterns,  which  was  carried  about  the 
camp,  as  all  the  others  were  immediately 
extinguished  by  the  wind,  the  velocity  of 
which  attained  eighty-six  miles  per  hour. 
'J"he  tempest  continued  for  four  days,  but, 
strange  to  relate,  not  a  single  animal 
perished.  The  ponies,  too,  withstood  the 
storm  bravely.  A  shed  in  which  three  of 
them  were  confined  was  finally  completely 
filled  with  snow,  the  watchmen  being  obliged 
to  tear  away  the  roof  in  order  to  let  the 
ponies  escape  over  the  walls  of  the  shelter. 
In  this  same  photo,  is  shown  the  telephone  by 
means  of  which 
communication 
between  the 
ship  and  the 
camp  was  main- 
tained. This 
telephone  was 
of  great  service 
to  us,  especially 
during  stormy 
periods. 

As  prepara- 
tions for  sledge 
work  drew  to 
an  end  the  vari- 
ous members  of 
the  expedition 
took  turns  in 
the  work  of 
advancing  sup- 
plies from  the 
ship  ere  the 
final  start 
should  be  made. 

'lliis  was  bt:gun  in  January  and  prosecuted 
almost  daily  until  the  final  departure  of  the 
field  party  on  the  27th  of  March. 

On  two  occasions  several  members  of  the 
expedition  came  near  losing  their  lives  while 
engaged  in  hazardous  sledge  expeditions.  This 
was  owing  to  their  having  been  caught  unawares 
in  storms  which  overtook  them  while  endeavour- 
ing to  return  to  the  ship.  On  each  occasion, 
however,  search  parties  were  sent  out  after  the 
missing  men  and  brought  them  in  safely. 

Owing  to  our  inability  to  force  the  America 
through  the  hard  ice,  it  was  necessary  to  under- 
take the  establishment  of  enormous  depots  in 
the  extreme    northern  part   of  the  Archipelago 

by  means  of  sledges  or  else  to   return   south 
Vol.  X  —55. 


utterly  defeated,  with  the  objects  of  our  expedi- 
tion unfulfilled.  Therefore,  mid-winter  work 
was  rendered  absolutely  necessary  not  only  to 
train  both  the  members  of  the  party  and  the 
draught  animals,  but  also  to  ensure  the  establish- 
ment of  these  depots  before  the  disintegration 
of  the  ice  between  the  islands  on  the  proposed 
line  of  march  rendered  sledge  journeys  im- 
possible. 

In  February  it  was  noticed  that  great  cracks 
were  forming  in  the  sea-ice,  and  by  March  it 
had  become  so  thin  in  places  through  the  action 
of  the  sea-currents  as  to  show  salty  efflorescence 
on  the  surface.  On  one  of  the  sledging  trips 
during  that  month  one  of  the  ponies,  which  was 
drawing  a  sledge  burdened  with  a  thousand 
pounds  of  corn-meal,  suddenly  disappeared 
beneath  the  sea-water  and  broken  lumps  of  ice. 
Both  the  pony  and  the  sledge,  however,  came 

to  the  surface 
again  and  were 
f  o  r  t  u  n  a  t  e  1  y 
saved.  The 
pony,  on  being 
hauled  out, 
was  promptly 
blanketed  and 
exercised,  and 
evinced  no  ill- 
effects  from  his 
cold  March 
bath  in  Arctic 
waters.  He  not 
only  survived 
the  trying 
ordeal  of  estab- 
1  i  s  h  i  n  g  the 
depots  upon 
Rudolf  Land 
and  elsewhere, 
but  also  of  the 


From  a 


TllK    1H0T0GR.\1'HI:K    Glii'S    A    SNUW-HATIl. 


[Photo. 


return  voyage 
to  Norway. 
But  the  thinness  of  the  ice  was  not  the  only 
element  of  danger  with  which  we  had  to 
contend,  for  almost  invariably  the  cracks  and 
fissures  which  had  formed  in  the  ice  were 
bridged  over  by  drift  snow,  and  through  these 
wc  often  fell  as  we  trudged  along.  My  next 
photo,  shows  Photographer  Fiala  in  the  full 
enjoyment  of  a  snow-bath,  as  he  endeavours  to 
extricate  himself  from  one  of  these  pitfalls. 
Sketch  Artist  Hare  appears  to  enjoy  the  fun 
equally  as  much  as  he  proffers  a  helping  hand. 
It  frequently  happened,  however,  that  ugly 
bruises  resulted  from  unexpected  falls  of  this 
kind,  thus  incapacitaUng  the  unfortunate  victim 
for  active  field  work.  It  was  an  accident  of  this 
nature    that    rendered  Mr.   Wellman   a   cripple 


434 


THE    WIDE    WORM)     .MAdA/IXl".. 


MR.   BALDWIN  FALLING  THROl'CJH 
A   SNOW-BRIDGE. 

Prom  a  Photo. 

for  months  following 
his  journey  Poleward 
in  1899.     In  the  case 
of  glaciers  such  pit- 
falls   are     especially 
dangerous,  owing  to 
their  great  depth  and 
uncertain    character. 
Sometimes  the  walls 
of    the    fissures    are 
perpendicular  and 
sometimes     curving, 
running  down   for 
hundreds   of  feet  till  a 
bottom  of  either  ice  or 
water  is  reached.    It  was 
in  such  a  chasm  as  this 
that   Meteorologist  Ver- 
hoeff,  of  the  first  Peary 
l',\[)cdition,  probably  lost 
his  life,  while  attempting 
to  cross  a  West  Green- 
land glacier.      The   toj) 
photo,  shows  the  writer 
after   an    unexpected 
"  drop  "  through  a  snow- 
bridge  on  the   slope    of 
a    glacier    on    President 
McKinley      Island,      in 
May,  1902,  while  in  the 
next  photo,    the    top   of 
the   pit    itself    is    seen. 
Had  it  been  just  a  few 
inches  wider  this  article 
would  never  have  been 
written— at  least  by  me 
— as  Photographer  Fiala 


IF     IHE   FISSURE   HAD    BF.EN    A    FEW    INCHES    WIDER     HE 

From  a]        would  never  have  been  seen  again.  [Photo. 


can  testify.  From  the  foregoing  incidents  it 
will  be  understood  why  extended  journeys  by 
sledge  cannot  be  safely  taken  during  the  period 
of  Arctic  darkness. 

Since  Siberian  ponies  figure  so  prominently  in 
the  work  of  the  Baldwin-Ziegler  Expedition,  it 
may  be  appropriate  to  say  a  few  words  concern- 
ing these  very  useful  draught  animals.  Of  the 
fifteen  taken  to  Franz-Josef  Land  twelve  sur- 
vived, rendering  invaluable  service  through- 
out   the    sledge  journeys.      Of   the    remaining 

three,  one,  having  in- 
jured itself  in  the  course 
of  the  voyage  to  Franz- 
Josef  Land,  was  shot 
shortly  after  our  arrival 
there  ;  one  was  shot  for 
food  late  in  October, 
1 90 1,  owing  to  a  sup- 
posed lack  of  provender 
for  the  entire  number  ; 
while  the  third  died  from 
the  effects  of  hard  work 
and  recurring  attacks  of 
colic.  This  last  -  men- 
tioned was  a  handsome 
young  bay  stallion.  He 
was  the  pet  of  the  stall, 
and  we  called  him  Billy. 
Being  of  a  less  robust 
nature — of  "  finer  grain  " 
than  the  others— he  was 
less  capable  of  with- 
standing the  rigours  of 
the  Arctic   toil.     All 


TH1-:     I^AI.DW  IXZIKC.I  I.R     I'OI.AR     1:X1M:I  )ITIOX. 


435 


winltT,  with  luo  olhcis,  wc  housed  liim  on 
board,  a  li;4lu  l)eing  kept  burning  from  feeding- 
tune  in  the  morning  till  bedtime  at  night.  The 
extinguishing  of  the  lights  he  almost  invariably 
protested  against  by  a  vigorous  pawing  of  the 
ship's  deck,  prolonged  oftentimes  till  the  early 
hours  of  the  ensuing  morning.  In  the  photo- 
graph at  the  bottom  of  the  preceding  page  are 
shown  l.uias  and  llillv  ready  for  action  in  the 
field. 

On  the  sledge  journey  six  men  were  sulticienl 
to  handle  the  thirteen  ponies,  each  pony  usually 
hauling  two  sledges  burdened  with  a  total 
weight  of  about  seven  hundred  and  fifty  pounds. 
These  faithful  creatures  were  quite  as  good 
travellers  as  the  dogs  and  gave  infinitely  less 
trouble,  not  only  while  in  camp  but  also  on  the 
march.  They  seldom  quarrelled  among  them- 
selves, and  kept  close  together  whenever  allowed 


the  canine  contingent.  I'luis  there  was 
method  in  our  arrangement  of  the  order  of 
precedence. 

I  )uring  stormy  weather,  when  we  were  unable 
to  find  our  way  ahead,  the  dogs  readily  found 
protection  by  curling  up  and  permitting  the 
snow  to  cover  them.  Not  so,  however,  with 
the  ponies,  who,  although  usually  blanketed  with 
a  sail-cloth  lined  in  part  with  vatfnie/,  a  coarse 
stuff  of  Norwegian  wool,  could  only  find  pro- 
tection behind  either  the  sledge  or  the  icebergs 
near  which  we  frequently  encamped — notwith- 
standintr  the  well-known  Arctic  axiom  that  ice- 
bergs  should  be  avoided  wherever  possible. 
\\'e,  however,  nearly  always  selected  flat-topped 
bergs  as  being  less  liable  to  capsize,  and  never 
met  with  mishap.  Those  of  other  forms,  how- 
ever, we  have  known  to  topple  over,  breaking  up 
the  ice  for  a  considerable  distance  around.     The 


to  run  at  large.  The  dogs,  however,  were 
jealous  of  any  preference  shown  them,  and 
availed  themselves  of  every  opportunity  of 
chasing  the  ponies  from  the  camp  when  turned 
loose.  On  the  march  the  dogs  were  esi^ecially 
jealous  whenever  the  ponies  were  put  at  the 
head  of  the  moving  column.  Ihis,  it  is 
needless  to  state,  was  fre(iuently  done  in 
order   to  bring    out   the   full   motive   powers  of 


accompanying  photo,  shows  the  famous  "  uioular 
iceberg  "  alongsitle  which  we  encamped  for  more 
than  a  week,  while  advancing  provisions  and 
et}uipment  northward  across  Markham  Sound. 
Hehind  it  twenty-eight  human  beings,  thirteen 
|)onies,  and  one  hundred  and  sixty  dogs  often 
found  protection  while  the  Arctic  storniKlemons 
tried  in  vain  to  rout  us  and  drive  us  Iwck. 
The    photo,    •^hnu^   (iiir    siidL'i-s   and    provisions 


43( 


THE    \VIJ.)E    WORLD    MAC.AZINE. 


deeply  buried  beneath  the  snow  after  one   of 
these  terrible  conflicts. 

About  ten  miles  south  of  the  tabular  iceberg, 
on  the  sea-ice,  one  of  our  relay  depots  was 
located.  ^Ve  made  a  march  and  return  march 
daily  to  this  place,  till  the  entire  depot  had 
been  brought  up  to  the  tabular  iceberg  camp. 
Our  ne.xt  photo,  shows  this  depot  quite  buried 
beneath  the  snow,  with. the  tent  also  heavily 
weighted  down  with  the  same  element  of 
discomfort.  We  were  obliged  to  remove  the 
frozen  snow  with  shovel  and  spade  and  pick 
nearly  every  time  the  sledges  were  loaded.  The 
toil  at  "  Camp  No.  3  "  typifies  the  labour  done 
at  the  eighteen  or  nineteen  other   camps  and 


Rudolf  Land,  latitude  Sideg.  44min.  The  last- 
mentioned  depot  consists  of  thirty-five  thousand 
pounds  of  condensed  foods,  and  is  within  sight 
of  the  head-quarters  estabUshed  by  the  Duke  of 
the  Abruzzi.  Farther  progress  in  this  direction 
was  prevented  by  an  open  sea  extending  south- 
ward from  the  head  of  Toeplitz  Bay,  a  stretch 
of  about  thirty  miles.  Eor  a  considerable 
distance  before  gaining  the  shore  on  Crown 
Prince  Rudolf  Land  we  were  obliged  to  travel 
over  a  wide  expanse  of  thin,  salty  ice,  the  last 
loads  being  deposited  in  great  haste  as  the 
sea -ice  broke  up  around  us,  threatening  to 
cut  off  the  return  of  the  party.  The  second 
depot    consists    of    five    thousand   pounds    of 


relay  depots,  before  all  the  provisions  and  equip- 
ment intended  for  future  use  on  the  great  dash 
for  the  P(j1c  were-  concentrated  at  tht;  three  main 
points— Kane  Lodge,  Greeley  Island,  latitude 
8odeg.  56min.  north  ;  near  Coburg  Island,  lati- 
tude   8ideg.    32min. ;   and    at    Toeplitz    Pay, 


condensed  and  other  foods,  and  is  placed  upon 
an  islet  about  twelve  miles  south  of  Rudoll 
Land.  The  Kane  Lodge  station  consists  of  a 
house  well  filled  with  provisions  and  equip- 
ment, and  is  located  in  the  centre  of  a  region 
abounding  in  walruses  and  Polar  bears. 


{To  be  concluded.) 


The  Adventures  of  the  Marquis  di  Cordova. 

Tni  n  nv   Hnr>Fi  F. 

The  personal  narrative  of  the  Marquis  di  Cordova  fu  Lorenzo,  a  nobleman  of  Spanish  descent.  He 
relates  the  amazing  series  of  adventures  into  which  he  has  been  plunged  by  his  attempt  to  regain 
possession    of  a    lost    inheritance.      A    more    remarkable   and   romantic  story  of   dark   intrigue  and 

relentless  hatred  has  seldom  been  unfolded. 


OUNDMD  by  secret  foes  — merciless, 
remorseless,  relentless  —  who  have 
l)ursued  me  across  two  continents, 
I  feci  that  my  only  safety  lies  in 
publicity.  I  therefore  avail  myself 
of  the  opportunity  afforded  me  by  this  Magazine 
to  place  my  strange  case  before  the  world.  I 
do  so  in  confidence  that  a  broad  publicity 
must  make  every  honest  man  of  the  English- 
speaking  race  my  ally  and  my  safeguard. 

I  am  not  insensible  to  the  fact  that,  in  these 
prosaic  times,  it  is  difficult  for  people  to  com- 
prehend that  acts  which  they  would  readily 
accept  as  true  if  related  in  connection  with 
some  medieval  conspiracy  could  possibly  still 
be  perpetrated.  In  order  that  the  reader  may 
judge  my  story  without  prejudice  he  must  know 
who  and  what  I  am,  and  the  chain  of  circum- 
stances which  led  up  to  the  remarkable  events 
herein  related. 

ISIy   name   is   Carlo   Cattapani,    Marquis    di 
Cordova  fa  Lorenzo  ;   but  as  I  care  little  about 
titles   I  have  taken  out  my  first   naturalization 
papers  in  the  United 
.States  as  Carlo  Catta- 
pani,    an     American 
citizen.     I    was    born 
in   Mantoba,   I.om- 
bardy.    My  father  was 
a  colonel  in  the  Italian 
army  and  my  mother 
was    the    Baroness 
-Maninconico. 

My  father  was 
an.xious  for  me  to 
enter  the  army.  I 
objected  strongly  to 
this,  but  was  never- 
theless sent  to  the 
-Military  .School  of 
Caserta,  where  I  re- 
mained until  just 
before  I  would  have 
received  my  commis- 
sion, when  my  father 
—  having  satisfied 
himself  that  my  tastes 
hardly  fitted  me  for  a 
soldier — procured  my 
honourable  discharge 


X 


through  the  recommendation  of  liis  friend,  the 
Secretary  of  State  for  War. 

Upon  abandoning  the  art  of  war  I  took  up 
what  had  been  a  passion  with  me  from  boy- 
hood— the  l\nc  arts.  I  became  a  student  at  the 
Royal  Academy  at  Naples,  where  I  worked 
under  Morrelli  and  Pallizzi.  Here  I  took  a 
prominent  part  in  everything  connected  with 
student  life,  and  was  elected  president  of  the 
Young  Artists'  Club  in  opposition  to  the  Duke 
of  Cirrella.  I  was  now  in  my  element  and 
making  rapid  progress.  My  social  standing  and 
my  artistic  positions  took  me  a  great  deal  into 
society.  I  lived  in  a  whirl  of  excitement,  amidst 
most  congenial  surroundings. 

But  the  vicissitudes  of  life  are  many,  and  one 
knows  not  what  a  day  may  bring  forth.  A 
beautiful  young  lady  of  high  rank  looked  upon 
my  addresses  with  favour,  and  in  the  love  I 
bore  her  came  my  undoing.  One  evening  at  a 
grand  reception,  while  strolling  alone  in  the 
shrubbery,  away  from  the  gay  throng  of  dancens, 
I   heard  voices  in  a  conservatory.     As  I  drew 


^,fid^  ^^^     liZ^^^^t^^^^-y^^'-c^  —  ^^^^^^^>^^^ 


<^ti^r<: 


J^<r- 


^^<- 


^771^  .<;^»iy4-5?>^i^a,^,i*^. 


>      ^ 


FACSTMII.E    OK    I'ART   OK     I  UK    KIKST    PAGE    OK    THE    MAKQUIS's    MANUSCKIKr. 


438 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MA(iAZINE. 


sened  somewliat  and  there  came  a  change  in  my 
feelings.  It  dawned  upon  me  that  the  Church 
was  not  my  vocation,  although  I  had  contracted 
a  most  intimate  friendship  with  Cardinal  the 
Duke  Sanfelice,  Archbishop  of  Naples,  and  had 
made  a  visit  to  the  Pope  at  Rome. 

I  turned  again  to  art.     But  the  affairs  of  my 


Till-;  .MAI<(M.IS  Dl  COKDOVA— THIS  rH010(  ,HA1'H  UASTAKliN  Sl'KCIALI.Y 
FOR    "  THE   WIDE   WORLD    MAGAZINE." 

near  I  fancied  I  recognised  one  of  the  voices, 
and  turning  a  corner  I  witnessed  my  beloved 
in  the  arms  of  an  army  officer,  a  friend  of  my 
own.  I  scarcely  know  what  I  did  or  said,  but 
a  duel  followed,  in  which  my  antagonist  fell 
mortally  wounded.  I  received  two  sword-cuts, 
one  in  the  side  and  one  in  the  hand. 

Depressed  and  despondent,  all  the  brightness 
having  temporarily  gone  out  of  the  world  for 
me,  I  took  re- 
fuge and  found 
solace  in  the 
Benedictine 
Monastery  of 
Cava,  near  Na- 
ples, where  the 
Knights  of  Malta 
and  the  Hospi- 
tallers of  Jeru- 
salem had  their 
origin.  Here  I 
shut  myself  up 
and  devoted  my- 
self to  religious 
meditation  and 
study.  I}ut  I 
never  took  the 
vows.  AVith  the 
lapse  of  time 
the  poignancy 
of  my  grief  les- 


llll:    MUNASTEUV    Kl     CAVA,     Id    UIMlII 


LORENZO   CATTAHANI,    MARQULS    DI    COKDOVA,    THE    FATHER  OF 
THE   PRESENT    MARQUIS— HE   COMMANDED   THE    IMPORTANT 

From  a\  Italian  fortress  of  gaeta.  [Photo. 

family  had  become  greatly  embarrassed,  entail- 
ing privations  upon  my  mother  and  sister,  for 
my  father  was  dead.  I  therefore  began  to  make 
inquiries    regarding   an    estate    which,    in    the 

family  circle,  had 
frequently  been 
referred  to  as 
rightfully  be- 
longing, in  whole 
or  in  part,  to  my 
father.  I  deter- 
mined, should 
my  investiga- 
tions warrant  the 
attempt,  to  re- 
cover it.  Think- 
ing from  what  I 
could  gather 
that  there  was 
a  fair  promise 
of  success,  I  re- 
solved to  set  to 
work  at  the  task, 
making    the    re- 

iiii'.  MAHi.iLis  i;i.MKii)  Ai  I  i:i;   nis  ui.ii.  COVCry       Ot       OUl 

a  I'hot.K  inheritance     my 


THE    .\I)\i:\TURKS    Ol'   'IMIi:    MAROL'IS    DI    CORDONA. 


439 


main  aim  in  life  until  it  should  be  accomplished. 
I  decided  to  devote  to  it  all  my  earnings  with 
the  brush. 

Our  right  to  this  property,  which  is  located 
in  Spain — near  Barcelona — in  France,  and  in 
Cuba,  arises  from  the  circumstance  that  my 
family  descends  from  one  of  two  brothers,  in 
whom  the  title  was  originally  vested.  This 
brother,  my  great-great-grandfather,  came  to 
Italy  in  1700  with  a  commission  from  the  King 
of  Spain.  For  some  reason  or  other  he  did 
not  return  to  his  native  country,  but  settled  in 
Italy,  where  he  inade  a  large  fortune.  After 
this  he  appears  to  have  taken  no  interest  in  the 
Spanish  estate  until  he  was  notified  of  the 
death  of  his  brother  and  was  requested  to  visit 
Spain  in  order  to  settle 
up  his  affairs. 

He  was  old,  and  the 
journey,  which  in  those 
days  was  full  of  difficul- 
ties, appalled  him.  He 
never  went.  The  estate 
still  remains  in  the  hands 
of  the  Spanish  branch  of 
the  family. 

As  the  first  step  in  my 
undertaking  I  left  Italy 
and  took  up  my  resi- 
dence in  Paris,  thinking 
that  city  would  afford 
me  a  better  field  for  my 
art  work.  Here  I  com- 
pleted my  artistic  educa- 
tion and,  while  doing  so, 
executed  two  religious 
paintings  on  a  commis- 
sion from  Monseigncur 
Petron,  for  the  Chinese 
Mission.  They  have 
since,  by  the  way,  been 
destroyed  by  the  Boxers. 
I  made  arrangements  for 

the  cooperation  of  a  French  detective  agency, 
and  soon  afterwards  removed  to  London,  where 
I  thought  I  could  make  more  money  than  in 
Paris.  I  was  not  disappointed.  Not  long  after 
my  arrival  in  London  I  received  a  visit  from  my 
l-"rench  detective,  who  informed  me  he  was  on 
the  track  of  some  missing  papers  connected 
with  the  Spanish  estate.  The  papers  referred 
t(;,  he  said,  were  of  vital  importance  to  me. 
Taken  together  with  those  already  in  my 
possession,  they  indubitably  established  my 
claim  to  the  estates.  Now,  these  documents  I 
had  never  been  able  to  locate.  They  should 
have  been  among  my  grandfather's  effects  ;  but 
as  he  was  a  man  of  notoriously  careless  habits, 
and  was,  moreover,  not  interested  in  the  Spanisli 


CARDINAL  THE   DUKE    SANKELICE,    ARCHBISHOP   OF    .NAPLES, 
WHO    P.EFKIENDED   THE    MARQUIS    WHILE  IN  THE  MONASTER^•. 

From  a  Photo,  by  Gaeiano  Romano,  Naples. 


estate,  it  was  thought  they  had  been  irrevocably 
lost.  The  detective  stated  that  they  had  been 
taken  away  in  an  iron  casket  by  my  grand- 
father's secretary,  Pinto,  and  that  he  believed 
they  were  at  that  moment  somewhere  in 
Colorado,  in  the  United  States,  whither  they 
had  been  taken  by  the  secretary. 

It  was  subsequent  to  that  interview  with  my 
agent  that  my  troubles  began  in  earnest.  Some 
little  time  after  I  went  over  to  Italy  to  visit 
my  mother,  and  on  my  way  back  stopped  at 
Monte  Carlo.  One  evening,  while  walking 
along  the  street,  a  bullet  sang  close  to  my  ear. 
Although  somewhat  startled,  I  gave  little  heed 
to  the  occurrence,  supposing  that  in  some 
gambling  fracas  a  shot  had  missed  its  mark. 

When  I  arrived  in 
London  again  I  found 
that  the  newly-appointed 
Italian  Ambassador  to 
the  Court  of  St.  James 
was  an  old  family  friend. 
I  called  on  him,  and 
through  his  courtesy  was 
introduced  into  London 
society. 

After  becoming  some- 
what acquainted  with 
my  new  surroundings  I 
started  to  develop  a  long- 
cherished  idea  of  mine, 
that  of  improving  the 
artistic  taste  of  the 
English  people  through 
art  applied  to  trade. 
With  the  aid  of  my 
newly  -  made  friends  I 
organized  a  manufactur- 
ing  art  company.  The 
company  met  with  great 
encouragement  and  was 
soon  doing  a  flourish- 
ing trade.  Some  time 
later  it  became  necessary  for  me  to  travel  in 
the  interests  of  my  business.  While  visiting 
Birmingham  I  left  my  hotel  one  morning,  and 
remember  nothing  more  until  I  woke  up  in  an 
hospital.  I  was  told  I  had  been  found  a  little 
way  out  of  the  city  forty-eight  hours  before, 
badly  cut  and  bruised  and  quite  unconscious  : 
but  all  my  valuables— including  my  watch  and 
money— were  intact.  The  Birmingham  papers 
noticed  the  occurrence  as  ''  A  Mysterious 
Accident  to  a  London  Manager,"  but  no  ex- 
planation could  be  given  of  the  incident,  nor 
were  my  assailants  discovered. 

My  secretary  came  to  fetch  me,  and  when  we 
reached  London  I  had  anotiier  interview  with 
the  French  detective.     He  was  inclined  to  think 


-14° 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


IHR   C.I.V.  CUMMEMORATIVE   (;R0UI'   DESIGNED     BY   THE    MAHQUIS 
l>I    CORDOVA — THIS   WAS   PRESENTED  TO    THE    PRINCE   OF    WALES 

Front  a\  (now  king  edward  vii.).  [Photo. 

I  here    was    a    connection 
between    the   Birmingham 
mishap,  a  fire  which    had 
destroyed  my  studio,  and 
the     shooting     at     Monte 
Carlo.     By  his 
advice    I    began 
to    take    some 
precautions,   and 
seldom  went  out 
alone  at  night. 

My  affairs  con- 
tinued to  prosper. 
I  executed  a  com- 
memorative group  ot 
the    City    Imi)erial 
Volunteers,   which 
was  presented   to  the 
I'rince  of  \\'ales  (now 
H.M.    the    King)    by 
iMr.   Pearse,  and  was 
engaged     in     making 
sketches  for  the  deco- 
rations of  the  National 
Museum     of     British 
An,  when  I  received  a  message 
from    my   detective   requesting 
me   to   join    him    as    soon    as 
possible  in  America,  whither  he 


had  proceeded  in  order  to  obtain  the  documents 
he  was  after. 

Accordingly,  I  se-L  about  making  my  pre- 
parations for  the  journey.  But,  while  doing 
so,  I  attended  one  night  a  party  at  the  house  of 
a  well-known  art  critic.  1  reached  my  rooms, 
lo,  Hestercombe  Avenue,  Fulham,  rather  late, 
and  went  immediately  to  bed,  after  locking  my 
door.  I  should  add  that  I  was  alone  in  the 
house. 

At  about  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  I  was 
startled  roughly  from  slumber  to*  find  myself  in 
the  clutches  of  three  masked  men  ! 

I  struggled  desperately.  Heavy  with  sleep  as 
I  was,  the  sight  of  those  cloth-covered  faces, 
behind  which  eyes  glittered  so  balefully,  brought 
to  my  mind  a  complete  and  awful  realization  of 
my  danger. 

My  antagonists  uttered  not  a  word  as  they 
held  me  down  on  my  bed.  I  put  all  my 
strength,  and  all  the  skill  I  had  acquired  during 
my  military  training,  into  a  tremendous  en- 
deavour to  free  myself  from  their  clutches,  but 
the  seizure  had  been  made  when  I  was  at  too 
great  a  disadvantage,  and  I  was  soon  bound  and 
gagged. 

I  lay  there,  helpless,  while  the  miscreants 
turned  up  the  gas,  which  I  had  not  extinguished, 
and  made  a  deliberate  search  of  my  apartments. 

Their  quest — whatever  it  was  they  sought — 


1    STRUGGLED    DESPERATELY. 


THE    ADVENTURES   Ol-     I  Hi:    MAK(  jL  IS    DI    rORljO\A. 


14' 


was  fruitless.  But  not  one  of  the  three  uttered 
a  word  that  would  give  evidence  of  chagrin  or 
disappointment.  The  act  that  followed  was 
one  worthy  of  the  vilest  of  assassins.  They 
first  extinguished  the  gas  and  then  turned  it  on 
again,  afterwards  setting  fire  to  the  window 
curtains.  Then  they  fled  hastily  into  the  hall 
and  so  out  of  the  house.  And  I,  bound  and 
helpless,  was  left  to  my  fate — either  to  be  burnt 
miserably  where  I  lay,  suffocated  by  the  gas- 
fumes,  or  killed  by  the  explosion  which  was 
certain  to  follow. 

I  was  saved  by  the  timely  arrival  of  some 
working  men  who  were  on  their  way  to  light 
some  furnaces  just  behind  my  house.  They 
extinguished  the  flames  and  turned  off  the  gas 
just  in  the  nick  of  time.  It  was  discovered  that 
one  of  my  assailants  had  been  secreted  in  a 
cupboard  in  the  room,  and  after  I  had  fallen 
asleep  had  crept  out  and  admitted  his  com- 
panions. 

After  this  terrible  event  my  friends  would  not 
allow  me  to  remain  alone,  and  1  made  my  home 
with  several  of  them  in  succession  until  I  left 
England  for  the  States. 

For  several  weeks  I  stayed  with  a  particular 
friend  in  Crondace  Road,  Fulham,  who  has 
since  written  to  me  that  he  observed  men, 
strangers  to  him,  watching  his  house  even  after 
I  had  gone.* 

I  reached  New  York  in  the  steamer  Majestic 
in  April,  1901,  taking  a  letter  of  introduction 
to  a  lady  who  had  married  an  English  noble- 
man. ^Iy  detective  met  me,  and  told  me  that 
he  was  in  hopes  of  securing  the  missing  papers 
shortly.  He  had  cabled  for  me  to  join  him 
because  it  was  necessary  for  me  to  be  present 
to  identify  them   before  any  reward  was  paid. 

I  instructed  him  to  go  straight  to  Colorado, 
where  he  thought  the  papers  still  were.  1 
remained  in  New  York  to  await  his  return. 
Meanwhile — as  he  would  probably  be  away  for 
some  length  of  time — I  opened  a  studio  and 
went  to  work. 

One  day  in  September  I  received  a  communi- 
cation requesting  me  to  go  to  the  Mission 
House,  South  Ferry,  where  friends  would  give 
me  important  information,  which,  for  reasons  of 
prudence,  they  could  not  send  to  my  rooms. 
I  went  as  directed  and  met  a  foreigner,  evi- 
dently neither  an  Englishman  nor  an  American, 
who  gave  me  the  private  sign  of  recognition 
which  had  been  agreed  upon  between  my  detec- 
tive and  myself.  The  stranger  asked  me  to 
step  into  a  waiting  cab  so  as  to  drive  to  the 
place  where  the  papers  were.     I  thoughtlessly 

'  This  genileman,  whose  name  and  address  we  possess,  hus  been 
communicated  with,  and  fully  bears  out  the  Marquis  di  Cordovas 
statements  as  to  the  attack  by  the  three  masked  men  and  the  spies 
who  watched  the  house  in  Crondace  Road. — Ed. 
Vol.  X.— 56. 


complied.     The  man  closed  the  door,  mounted 
the  box  with  the  driver,  and  we  started  off. 

I  thought  the  stranger's  conduct  rather 
peculiar,  and,  too  late,  regretted  my  com[)laisance. 
I  had  expected  my  guide  to  enter  the  cab  with 
me  ;  but  on  second  thoughts  I  concluded  that 
his  action — he  being  a  foreigner— arose  from 
deference  to  my  rank.  Nevertheless,  I  felt 
annoyed  and  ill  at  ease. 

We  were  now  moving  at  a  rapid  rate.  While 
hesitating  what  to  do,  unable  to  make  up  my 
mind  to  any  definite  course  of  action,  a  sense 
of  drowsiness  and  suffocation  came  over  me. 
I  endeavoured  to  rouse  myself  by  peering  out 
of  the  tightly-fastened  windows  and  sitting  up 
straight,  but  gradually  my  efforts  became  moie 
feeble,  listlessness  took  complete  possession  of 
me,  and  I  became  oblivious  of  everything. 

When  I  revived  I  found  myself  lying  on  the 
floor  in  a  room  bare  of  furniture,  save  for  a 
common  pine  table.  I  was  not  left  alone  for 
long.  Every  hour  or  so  a  masked  man  visited 
me,  or  sometimes  two  men — men  who  reminded 
me  of  my  midnight  assailants  in  London. 
They  never  said  anything,  but  each  time  they 
offered  me  drink,  which,  owing  to  my  semi- 
conscious condition  and  raging  thirst,  I  took 
with  avidity.  Almost  immediately  after  taking 
the  liquid  I  relapsed  again  into  complete 
insensibility. 

After  what  must  have  been  several  days  of 
imprisonment  my  faculties  one  evening  for 
some  reason  cleared  up  more  than  usual.  I 
heard  voices  near  me,  and  so  I  sat  up  and 
listened.  There  was  only  a  board  partition 
between  my  room  and  the  one  adjoining,  and 
on  the  other  side  of  it  my  captors  were  talking.  I 
could  not  make  out  all  they  said  ;  but  I  could 
distinguish  that  one  spoke  with  a  foreign  accent, 
while  the  other's  speech  was  that  of  an  American. 
From  what  I  could  gather  it  seemed  to  me  they 
were  worried  about  orders  they  expected  which 
had  not  arrived.  Finally,  the  American,  who 
called  the  other  one  "  I'intal,"  said,  distinctly, 
"  If  there  is  to  be  any  blood,  I  am  not  in  it." 

This  was  ominous.  I  listened  no  more,  but 
at  once  concentrated  my  energies  upon  making 
my  escape.  How  was  it  to  be  done?  I  was 
so  weak  from  the  continual  drugging  and  want 
of  food  that  I  could  scarcely  arouse  myself  to 
the  effort. 

The  room  contained  no  door  excepting  that 
leading  to  the  one  occupied  by  my  guards. 
There  was,  however,  a  small  iron-barred  window, 
rather  high  up,  through  which  the  moonlight 
was  now  streaming.  Unpromising  as  it  ap- 
peared, I  determined  to  try  to  loosen  these  bars 
and  get  out. 

As  noiselessly  as  possible  I   moved  the  table 


442 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


against  the  door  to  the  next  room,  in  order  to  at 
least  obstruct  the  entrance  of  the  scoundrels 
should  they  discover  my  attempt.  I  then  went 
to  the  window  and,  grasping  the  bars,  found  to 
my  joy  that,  though  they  themselves  were  for- 
midable enough,  the  framework  in  which  they 
were  fixed  was  quite  rotten.  It  did  not  take 
much  of  a  push  to  tumble  the  whole  crazy  affair 
outwards.  I  quickly  scram- 
bled up  after  them.  I  found 
that  my  room  was  on  the 
ground  floor  and  that  the 
drop  from  the  window  was 
inconsiderable. 

Time  was  too  precious  to 
make  an  inspection  of  the 
place  ;  but,  as  I  jumped  out 
and  ran,  a  quick  glance 
showed  me  that  the  house 
was  a  one-story  frame  shanty 
—  apparently  one  that  had 
been  unoccupied  for  some 
time,  for  it  was  surrounded 
with  weeds  and  bore  a  general 
aspect  of  neglect. 

Continuing  in  a  straight 
line,  witli  all  the  speed  my 
enfeebled  condition  would 
admit,  I  presently  reached 
what  appeared  to  be  a  main 
road.  Taking  this,  I  went 
on  until  I  came  to  a  park. 
Here  I  threw  myself  on  the 
ground  and  almost  at  once — 
as  the  result,  I  suppose,  of 
exhaustion — went  to  sleep. 

At  about  four  o'clock  in 
the  morning  I  was  roughly 
awakened  by  a  policeman, 
who  wanted  to  know  what  I 
was  doing  there.  Only  half 
conscious  of  my  surround- 
ings, for  the  curious  coma 
which  had  held  my  senses 
captive  for  the  past  few  days 
had  not  yet  left  me,  I  mum- 
bled :  "  I  live  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood and  have  come 
here  to  take  a  nap." 

He  did  not  appear  to  be  satisfied,  and  kept 
disturbing  me  every  now  and  then.  It  was 
fully  eleven  o'clock  in  the  morning  before  I 
()ecame  entirely  awake.  Upon  inquiry  I  found 
I  was  in  Prospect  Park,  Brooklyn.  I  accord- 
ingly started  towards  home,  at  230,  West  124th 
Street,  where  I  boarded.  \Valking  all  the  way 
— for  I  had  no  money  on  me — I  reached  there 
about  ten  o'clock  that  night. 

Safe  in  my  own   rooms,  and   refreshed   by  a 


hearty  meal,  I  pondered  over  my  adventure. 
Reflection  convinced  me  that  the  very  despera- 
tion of  my  enemies  was  an  augury  for  my  own 
success.  I  could  not  conceive  of  any  other 
explanation  of  their  conduct  except  the  appre- 
hension that  my  agent  in  Colorado  must  be  on 
the  right  track.  Somewhat  consoled  by  this 
idea,  1  settled  again  to  work.  Blessed  with  a 
strong  constitution,  I  soon 
recovered  from  the  treatment 
I  had  undergone. 

With  the  hope  of  locating 
the  house  where  I  had  been 
detained — which  I  was  un- 
able to  do  personally — or  of 
inducing  the  American  (who, 
in  the  conversation  I  had 
overheard,  did  not  seem  to 
be  in  entire  accord  with  his 
companion)  to  divulge  some- 
thing, I  inserted  in  \\\^Herald 
and  World  an  advertisement, 
cautiously  worded  in  language 
that  would  serve  either  of 
these  purposes.  This  step 
was  taken  with  the  approval 
of  the  New  York  detectives, 
who  were  also  investigating 
the  kidnapping.  A  few 
answers  were  received,  but 
they  were  evidently  from 
practical  jokers  and  no  atten- 
tion was  paid  to  them. 

My  affairs  now  went 
along  without  anything  un- 
usual happening,  though  it 
would  be  idle  for  me  to 
say  that  I  felt  any  sense  of 
security  or  that  I  was  not 
constantly  on  the  watch. 
On  June  ist,  1902,  how- 
ever, I  received  a  commu- 
nication signed  "  Smith," 
in  which  the  writer  re- 
quested me  to  meet  him 
the  following  evening, 
between  six  and  seven 
o'clock,  at  the  statue  in 
Madison  Square,  where  he 
would  be  leaning  on  the  railing,  and  would  be 
recognisable  by  a  large  red  neck-tie  he  would 
wear.  It  was  thought  that  this  note  might  be 
in  answer  to  one  of  my  advertisements,  and  so 
I  decided  to  keep  the  appointment. 

As  the  hour  arranged  was  early  in  the  even- 
ing, and  at  a  place  usually  crowded  with  people, 
I  thought  it  would  be  safe  to  go  alone.  The 
stranger  proceeded  directly  to  business,  without 
any  preliminaries.     He  stated  that  he  had  heard 


"the  duoi>   kro.m   the   window  was 
inconsiderabi.e.' 


THl'    .\l)Vi:XI'L'l<i:s   OK   THK    M.\I<()U1S    1)1    C0R1)()\'A. 


443 


I  wns  looking  lor  sonic  papers,  and  tliat  lie 
thought  he  could  place  one  of  them  in  my 
hands.  But  in  order  that  he  might  get  out  of 
New  York  at  once  he  would  have  to  have  a 
hundred  dollars  of  the  reward  down. 

"  1  haven't  so  much  with  nic,"'  I  replied. 

"Well,"  was  the  confident  rejoinder,  ''you 
can  get  it.  When  you  get  your  estate  you  will 
come  down  handsomely — eh?" 

After  some  further  talk  in  the  same  line,  in 
which  he  gave  me  an  idea  of  what  tlie  papers 
were,  I  agreed  to  meet  him  on  the  following 
Saturday  night,  June  7th,  at  the  corner  of 
196th  Street  and  Amsterdam  Avenue. 

When  the  night  arrived,  determined  not  to  be 
caught  in  a  trap  again,  I  took  with  me  my  secre- 
tary, Mr.  Alillo  (lajo;  Mr.  \'incent  Cassalle,  a 
gentleman  I  had  known  in  Italy,  but  now 
resident  in  New  York  ;  and  Mr.  William  Hogan. 

We  met  the  man  Smith  at  the  appointed  place 
and  time,  and,  with  the  expenditure  of  very  few 
words,  I  paid  him  a  hundred  dollars  for  the 
paper  he  held,  which  proved  to  be  a  map 
showing  the  exact  spot  in  Colorado  where  my 
grandfather's  secretary — according  to  tradition — 
had  buried  the  iron  box  containing  the  missing 
papers.  I  placed  this  precious  map  in  a  gold 
card-case  which  I  carried,  and  then  all  of  us, 
without  having  met  with 
any  adventure,  parted  for 
our  respective  homes. 

I  reached  my  house, 
No.  58,  East  86th  Street, 
whither  I  had  removed, 
towards  two  o'clock  in  the 
mornmg.  I  had  unlocked 
the  front  door  and  was 
about  to  put  my  key  into 
the  vestibule  door  when 
someone  dashed  up  the 
steps  and  asked  me  for  a 
light.  The  voice  had  a 
foreign  accent,  and  I  took 
alarm  at  once  and  turned 
quickly.  Before  1  had  got 
fairly  around,  however,  I 
was  knocked  down,  but 
struggled  to  my  feet  again. 
Two  or  three  men  con- 
fronted mc.  After  that 
I  can  recall  nothing  for 
a  period  of  several  hours. 

When  I  recovered  m\- 
senses  everything  was 
dark  aliout  me,  but  I 
could  feel  that  I  was 
bound  hand  and  foot. 
As  I  grew  more  accus- 
tomed to  the  situation  I 


became  aware  that  I  was  in  a  cellar,  evidently 
amongst  the  coal.  How  long  I  had  been  there 
I  could  not  even  conjecture.  Presently  I  heard 
footsteps,  and  then  there  came  a  glimmer  of  light 
as  if  from  a  lantern.  Two  men  now  ajjpeared, 
and  one  of  them  spoke  to  me.  Addressing  me 
respectfully  by  my  title,  he  said  that  if  I  would 
sign  a  document  which  he  would  bring  me  they 
would  release  me.  I  indignantly  refused.  'I'he 
man  did  not  attempt  to  argue,  nor  did  his 
manner  change.  I  demanded  to  know  by  what 
right  I  was  deprived  of  my  lit)ertyand  by  whom, 
but  he  remained  provokingly  silent.  I  felt 
terribly  thirsty,  and  at  last  remarked:  "You 
might  give  me  something  to  drink." 

The  other  man  -  the  silent  one— promptly 
poured  a  liquid  he  appeared  to  have  ready  into 
a  goblet  and  handed  it  to  me.  By  the  uncertain 
light  of  the  lantern  it  looked  like  a  light  wine. 
I  drank  it  almost  at  a  gulp  and  asked  for  more. 
But  the  men  turned  and  left  me.  I  heard  them 
going  up  wooden  steps  and  afterwards  walking 
overhead. 

Left  alone,  my  first  thought  was  of  escape. 
But,  bound  as  I  was,  I  recognised  the  utter 
futility  of  any  such  idea.  Hopes  of  rescue 
came  into  my  mind.  Friends,  no  doubt,  were 
searching   for   me.      I   even    fancied    I    heard 


,^^^>^\ 


^f^V^S&r-^:' 


TWii   MEN    NOW    APITAKKD. 


444 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    .MAGAZINE. 


cheering   words 


spoken  in  familiar  tones.  I 
peered  into  the  darkness  in  the  direction 
from  whence  they  came.  The  voices  blendfed 
into  music,  which  was  succeeded  by  a 
medley  of  fantastic  shapes  through  which  the 
life-like  faces  of  my  mother  and  sister  floated. 
Then  came  a  long  period  of  unconsciousness. 
I  suppose  the  drink  had  been  drugged  again. 

Consciousness  returned  witli  a  sense  of  chill 
and  pain.  Though  still  confused  and  stupefied 
I  recognised  that  I  was  lying  upon  my  side,  in 
utter  darkness.  A  terrible  storm  was  raging. 
Rain  was  falling  in  torrents,  and  lightning 
flashed  and  thunder  roared  above.  Everything 
seemed  new  and  terrible  to  me,  and  I  think  that 
for  a  little  while  my  mind  wandered. 

1  tried  to  move  my  limbs,  but  found  I  could 
not,  and,  exhausted,   I 


died  a  hundred  deaths  in  the  next  few  seconds. 
Suddenly  a  locomotive  head  -  light  loomed  up 
in  the  distance.  My  fearful  anticipations  were 
about  to  be  realized  !  I  writhed  in  my  agony, 
and  found  to  my  joy  that,  although  I  could  not 
move  my  limbs,  I  could  roll  a  little.  The  train 
came  on,  its  roar  growing  steadily  louder.  With 
a  terrific  effort  I  rolled  myself  off  the  tracks, 
scarcely  knowing  whither  I  went.  A  moment 
later  the  train  went  by  with  a  thunderous  roar. 
Involuntarily,  in  the  extremity  of  my  terror,  I 
called  out,  "  Help  !    Help  !  " 

The  night  remained  silent.  There  was  no 
response. 

I  realized  that  my  only  hope  of  succour  lay 
in  attracting  attention.  Summoning  all  my  re- 
maining strength,  I  cried  again  :  — 

"Help!     Murder! 
Help  !     Help  !  " 

As   the   echo  of  my 
voice    died   away,    I 
thought  I  heard  some- 
one  near.      And    then 
the  strangest  words  that 
ever  greeted 
the  ear  of  a 
man   in  dis- 
tress reached 
me. 

"  Can't  you 
wait  until  I 
get  a  police- 
man ?"  said 
a  voice. 

"No," 
was  on  my 
lips.  But  I 
thought,  "  If 
I  say  that  he 
will  be  afraid 
and  will  not 
come,"  so  I 
answered : 
"  Yes,  yes  ! 
But  be 
quick  !  " 

Shortly 
afterwards  I 
heard  steps 
n  p  p  r  o  a  c  h  - 
i  n  g ,  and 
soon  some- 
one stum- 
bled over 
me.  It  was 
my  rescuer. 
He  had  not 
waited   for 

LKD    MVSKl.r    OKI-    TIIF,   TRACKS."  thc      pOllCC- 


I 


TIIK     \l)\"i:\"l'rRKS    Ol'     Till',    MARol'IS    I  )I    CORDON  A. 


445 


FIRST  SECTION. 


XEW    YORK    HERALD.    PUN'DAY,    JUNE    15,    1902. 


Missing  Marquis,  Found  Bound  on  Railroad  Tracks, 

Tells  Marvellous  Tale  of  Kidnapping  and  Coercion 


KACSIMII.K   OK    .\    HEADING    IN'    A    NEW   YORK    NEWSPAPER   ON    THE    DAY    AFTER   THE    MAKQUIS   WAS    FOUND. 


man,  but,  reassured  by  my  words,  had  come 
alone,  bringing  with  him  a  lantern.  After  an 
exclamation  of  astonishment,  he  set  to  work  to 
unbind  me.  Two  policemen  came  along  a  little 
later,  and  they  fetched  an  ambulance,  in  which 
I  was  placed  and  taken  to  the  J.  Hood  Wright 
Hospital.  They  told  me  that  I  had  been  laid 
on  the  tracks  of  the  Hudson  Railroad,  at  the 
115th  Street  Crossing,  within  the  limits  of  New 
York  City.  Needless  to  say,  my  terrible  experi- 
ence was  the  sensation  of  the  day  in  the  New 
York  papers  next  morning. 

On  the  way  to  the  hospital  I  again  became 
unconscious,  but,  owing  to  the  care  I  received  at 
the  institution,  I  was  able  to  leave  it  on  Sunday 
morning,  though  for  more  than  a  week  afterwards 
I  was  confined  to  the 
house. 

After  this  adventure 
I  determined  to  leave 
New  York,  and  have 
now  taken  up  my  abode 
in  Philadelphia. 

I  feel,  however,  that  I 
can  never  consider  my- 
self safe  anywhere,  and 
so  I  have  decided  to  tell 
my  strange  story  to  the 
world,  thus  placing  my- 
self under  the  guardian- 
ship of  that  inborn  sense 
of  right  and  justice 
which  dwells  in  the 
hearts  of  honest  men. 


NO  TBJCE  OF  THE 
KIONAPPEO  NOBLE 

» 

First  Attempt  to  Balk  the  Mar- 
quis de  Cordova  so  Far 
Successful. 


WORLDSEARCH  FOR  CASKET 


Since 


receivmg 


the 


above  the  following  addi- 
tional information  has 
been  forwarded  to  us  : — 

In  August  last  the 
French  detective  em- 
ployed by  the  Marquis 
discovered  near  Pueblo, 
in  Colorado,  a  number 
of  important  documents. 

The  first  is  a  written 
acknowledgment,  under 
the  Cordova  seal,  from 
Giorgico,  Marquis  di 
Cordova,  the  great-great- 
grand-uncle  of  the   pre- 


Contains  His  Titles,  and   He  Has 
Visited   Many  Countries  Pur- 
sued by  Hidden  Enemies. 


THOUGHT    TO    BE    IN    PUEBLO 


It  Was  Just    After    He    Had  Obtained  This 
Information  That  the   Abduc- 
tion Took  Place. 


ANOTHER    NEWSPAPER    HEADING   WHICH    AllEARED   SOON    AFTER 
THE    ABDUCTION   OK   THE    MARIJUIS. 


sent  Marcjuis,  stating  that  he  holds  only  in  trust 
the  estate  and  personal  property  of  his  brother 
the  great -great -grandfather  of  the  present 
Marquis.  He  engages  to  return  the  property 
intact  to  this  brother  upon  demand. 

Another  document  is  a  letter  written  by  the  son 
of  the  great-great-grand-uncle  referred  to,  Lorenz 
di  Cordova,  to  Antonio  di  Cordova,  the  son 
of  the  great-great-grandfather  of  the  present 
Marquis.  In  this  letter  Lorenz  di  Cordova 
admits  that  he  is  not  the  owner  ot  the  estates 
which  he  holds,  and  begs  his  cousin,  the  real 
owner,  to  come  to  Spain  and  take  possession 
of  his  patrimony,  allowing  him  (Lorenz)  some 
portion  of  the  property  by  way  of  remuneration 
for  his  services  as  caretaker. 

The  third  document 
is  the  original  patent  of 
nobility,  granted  by 
Charles  I.  of  Spain,  of 
the  Marquisate  of  Cor- 
dova. 

The  fourth  and  last 
document  is  the  only 
existing  copy  of  the 
genealogical  tree  of  both 
branches  of  the  Cordova 
family,  dated  and  sealed 
in  1795  by  the  Heraldic 
Institution  in  Madrid, 
from  which  the  original 
document  has  dis- 
appeared. 

These  papers  are  in 
the  possession  of  the 
detective,  who  is  now 
prosecuting  a  search  for 
further  documents  in 
Italy,  as  his  work  in  the 
States  has  been  finished 
by  the  discovery  of  the 
casket  of  documents 
taken  away  by  the  secre- 
tary, Pinto.  What  now 
remains  to  be  done  is  to 
secure  corroborative 
documentary  evidence 
in  Europe.  Both  civil 
and  criminal  proceed- 
ings have  been  instituted 
in  Madrid. 


--i^^f:^ 


A  description,  by  a  local  journalist,  of  the  curious  state   of  affairs  which  prevails  in  the  salt  district  of 
Cheshire.     Owing  to  the  pumping  away  of  the  brine,  gradual  subsidences  of  the  earth's  surface  are  of 
frequent  occurrence,  and  the  authorities  have  a  hard  struggle  to  prevent  houses  and  roads  disappearing 
So  peculiar,  however,  is  the    character   of  the   sinkage    that   virtually  little    danger  exists    and  life  has 
rarely  been  jeopardized.     The  article  is  illustrated  with  some  very  interesting  photographs 


as 


N  no  English  town,  village,  or 
hamlet,  save  the  quaintly  interesting 
Cheshire  salt  town  of  Northwich, 
has  there  been  witnessed  the  remark- 
able sight  of  shops  and  business 
premises,  ranging  from  the  humblest  lock-up 
establishment  to  the  most  pretentious  of  country 
hotels,  being  slowly  yet  none  the  less  surely 
raised —pumped  up,  in  fact,  by  the  most 
ingenious  of  hydraulic  pumps — pumps  which 
can  raise  many  tons  apiece,  doing  their  work 
so  gently  and  evenly — if  carefully  operated — 
as  to  cause  no  inconvenience  whatever  to  the 
occupants  of  the  buildings  dealt  with. 

The  High  Street  of  Northwich,  like  many 
other  parts  of  the  salt  district,  is  sorely  afflicted 
by  the  terrible  scourge  known  as  "  subsidence." 
The  popular  —but  fortunately  erroneous — im- 
pression of  these  subsidences  is  that  they  mean 
a  sudden  swallowing  up  of  shops  and  hou.ses  ; 
aye,  and  even  of  men  and  women,  liut  the 
yawning  gulf,  tlie  gaping  chasm,  and  the  hapless 
people  engulfed  therein,  if  not  absolutely  crea- 
tions of  the  imagination,  are  at  any  rate  the  least 
sinister  form  of  the  salt-sinking  evil.  Rarely 
indeed  does  a  subsidence  take  place  so  rapidly 
as  to  jeopardize  life  and  limb  ;  albeit  it  is  on 
record  that  years  ago  an  office  fell  on  its  back  in  a 
single  night.     The  first  photo,  on  the  next  page 


shows  the  office  I  have  mentioned — a  solicitor's, 
by  the  way.  It  assumed  the  position  showq  in 
the  snap-shot  in  twenty-four  hours.  On  another 
occasion  a  horse  was  swallowed  up  by  the 
collapse  of  a  stable  floor,  and  one  of  the  photo- 
graphs depicts  a  subsidence  in  Castle  Street, 
close  to  the  place  where  the  horse  perished. 

On  an  average  the  Northwich  High  Street 
sinks  from  six  to  eight  inches  every  year,  and, 
naturally,  as  the  roadway  sinks,  the  shops  on 
either  side  settle  in  like  degree.  The  River 
Weaver  bounds  the  thoroughfare  which  forms 
a  part  of  the  main  road  from  Manchester  to 
Chester — ^on  one  side,  and  when  the  water-level 
is  reached  the  local  governing  authority  and  the 
County  Council  of  Cheshire  find  it  necessary 
to  restore  the  roadway  by  raising  its  surface  a 
height  varying  from  three  feet  six  inches  to 
Anir  feet. 

'I'his  novel  form  of  restoration  has  recently 
been  successfully  completed,  and  a  stranger 
viewing  the  line  of  smart  shops  now  standing 
would  scarcely  credit  that  the  street  had  passed 
through  such  an  ordeal.  An  ordinary  town 
would  be  paralyzed  by  such  a  necessity.  What 
would  become  of  tlie  property  ?  Experience, 
however,  has  been  a  great  educational  force  in 
Northwich,  and  in  the  "sinking"  portions  of  the 
district  a  novel   system  of  framework  buildings. 


A    .^LNKINc;    TOWN'. 


447 


From  a\ 


rur.    BUIl.IIIN'G    THAT    FELL   ON    ITS    HACK    IM    A    SINGLE    NIGHT. 


known  locally  as  "  composite,"  has  been 
adopted  —  not  from  choice  but  from  sheer 
necessity.     Thus,  when   a  building  sinks  it  can 


be  restored  to  its 
original  position 
without  damage,  and 
this  in  the  most  in- 
genious fashion  it  is 
possil)le  to  realize. 
Another  photograph 
shows  a  typical  "  ele- 
vation "  completed. 
In  this  case  the 
building  —  a  hand- 
some new  hotel — has 
been  lifted  bodily  for 
several  feet.  Stout 
wedges  have  been 
placed  underneath, 
subsequently  re- 
placed by  brickwork, 
a  flight  of  stei)s  fitted, 
and  the  building  is 
itself  again,  so  to 
speak. 

Northwicli  and  its 
surroundings,  and 
the  great  and  terrible 
penalty  which  is 
being  paid  for  its 
mineral  wealth — the 
brine — form  a  most 
fascinating  study.  There  is  nothing  exactly  like 
it  in  any  other  part  of  the  world,  and,  before 
describing  in  detail    the  latest  phase  of  "  shop- 


[Plwto. 


Frontal  y\\y.  castle  sru-EEi'  siksidknck,  ci.dsi-  to  wiiiue  the  i  moktuna  ie  iidkse  was  swai.lowku  lt.  [I'i:,-ti>. 


448 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


in  the  culinary  department  and 
form  the  staple  of  all  chemical 
manufacture. 

Two    hundred,    three    hun- 
dred, and  four    hundred    feet 
from  the  surface  of  the  earth 
are  to    be    found,  throughout 
what   is  generically  known  as 
the  Cheshire  salt   field,    beds 
of  rock-salt  of  a  thickness  in 
some  instances  of  two  hundred 
feet.     The  strata  is  a  veritable 
treasure-trove  to  the  geologist, 
but  the  property-owner  looks 
with  a  less  kindly  eye  upon  it, 
although,   with   the  feeling  in 
his  heart  that  he  cannot  have 
his  cake  and  eat  it,  he  has  to 
some    extent    become    philo- 
sophical.   In  the  bad  old  days, 
before  it  was  necessary  to  aid 
Nature   in   bringing  forth    her 
store  of  brine,    the    seeds   of 
much    subsequent  subsidence 
mischief    were    laid    by    the 
improper  mining  of  the  rock-salt  beds.     Water 
found  its   way  into  the    shafts,   the   salt   pillars 
were  eaten  away,  and  in  fell  the  mine.     In  1750, 
or  thereabouts,   a   mine    in   this  way   collapsed 
near   Northwich,   and   subsequently  the  neigh- 
bourhood   of    Marston,    some  two    miles    from 
the   town,   underwent    a    complete   transforma- 


,   A   TYPICAL    "elevation" — THIS   HOTEL    HAS    BEEN    RAISED    BODILY    FOR   SEVERAL    FEET, 
WEDGES    FLACED    UNDERNEATH,    AND    A    FLIGHT   OF    STEPS    FIT1  ED   TO   THE   DOORWAY. 

Fiom  a  Photo. 

lifting,"  in  which  even  the  kleptomaniac  plays 
no  part,  the  story  of  the  quest  for  salt,  with 
illustrations,  must  be  outlined,  for  it  is  the 
ceaseless  pumping  of  the  brine  which  has  caused 
the  subsidences  which  have  devastated  a  con- 
siderable tract  of  country. 

The  ancient  history  of  Northwich  may  be 
dismissed  in  a  sen- 
tence. Here  the 
Romans  found  the 
natural  springs  of 
brine  bubbling 
through  the  earth, 
and  here  they  made 
salt  by  evaporation 
in  pans  which  were 
very  little  different 
from  these  in  use  at 
the  present  moment, 
twentieth  century 
though  it  be. 
Labour  -  saving  ma- 
chinery  has  been  con- 
tinually sought  after, 
but  even  to-day  an 
open  pan  filled  with 
brine,  a  fire  beneath, 
and  a  man  with  a 
rake  are  the  main 
elements  in  the 
manufacture  of  the 
beautiful  white  saline 
crystals    which     play 

so    imnnrtnnt    n     mrf  "    ''  '^''  ""'  "^'''"  i-akks,  oh  "  i-i.ashi-.';,"  iohmi'd  by  i  he  sudsidencks- 

ipUlUUIl      a.      p.iri  From  n\  WARRINGTON    FOUMF.RI.V    RAN    ALONG   TO    THE    RICH  I-. 


MAIN    KciAD    TO 

[Photo. 


A    >1.\KL\(J    TOWN. 


449 


tion  by  reason  o(  old  or  disused  mines 
succumbing  to  the  erosive  action  of  the  water 
which  had  found  its  way  to  the  salt.  More  than 
a  dozen  such  mine-workings  are  said  to  be 
covered  by  lakes,  and  between  North  wich  and 
Marston  many  acres  of  land  have  disappeared, 
leaving  in  their  place  huge  lakes  or  "flashes." 
One  of  these  lakes,  of  great  depth,  is  seen  in 
the  previous  photo.  The  winding  path  on 
the  far  side  to  the  right  indicates  what  some 
years  ago  formed  the  main  road  to  Warrington. 


served  the  Romans  and  their  successors  and 
were  controlled  by  many  strange  laws — was 
found  to  be  utterly  inadequate  to  meet  the 
increasing  demand  for  salt.  The  taking  of  a 
bucket  to  the  brine  well  was  too  slow  a  pro- 
cess for  the  modern  manufacturer,  and,  with 
mushroom-like  rapidity,  pumping-shafts  sprang 
up  here,  there,  and  everywhere.  The  brine 
(which  is  formed  by  water  passing  over  the 
beds  of  rock-salt,  with  which  it  charges  itself 
in  its  passage)  was  first  pumped  up  by  means 


F)oir.  a\ 


THE    l.OMJON    kOAI>   SL  liSIUENCli— THE   KOAU    AS   IT   AITEAKED    Willi    IIS    "  UACK    BKOKEN. 


\rili'tO. 


Daily  in  the  Marston  district  the  authorities 
are  engaged  in  fighting  the  subtle  foe,  which 
woiks  ceaselessly  and  insidiously.  One  road 
was,  thirteen  years  ago,  finally  abandoned  and 
claimed  by  the  subsidence  fiend,  and  now  the. 
track  over  which  it  was  diverted,  and  which 
forms  the  highway  between  two  important 
centres,  is  only  maintained  with  ever-increasing 
difficulty. 

So  much  for  mining  and  the  salt  lakes.  But, 
after  all,  it  is  to  the  pumping  of  brine  that 
Northwich  owes  at  once  its  trade  and  its  un- 
enviable position  as  a  "sinking  city."  Over 
one  hundred  years  ago  the  brine  rising  to  the 
surface     of    the    natural    springs — which    had 


of  windmills  and  then  by  steam.  Faster  and 
still  faster  the  water  ate  away  the  rock-salt. 
The  earth's  backbone  was  being  removed, 
and,  as  a  natural  consequence,  the  crust 
cracked  and  broke.  The  area  of  subsidence, 
it  is  true,  was  not  large,  but  the  signs  were  grave. 
Mr.  Thos.  Ward,  F.R.G.S.,  who  has  made  the 
subject  one  of  earnest  study,  estimated  that  not 
less  than  twenty-five  million  tons  of  .salt  have 
been  made  in  the  Northwich  district  from  brine 
pumped  off  the  upper  bed  of  rock-salt,  which 
is  the  most  fruitful  source  of  trouble  ;  while 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  gallons  of  brine  are 
annually  consumed  in  the  chemical  works. 
The  same  authority  has  calculated   tliat  the 


Vol. 


57. 


45° 


tMe  wide  world  magazine. 


ANOTHER   VIEW   OF   THE   LONDON    ROAD  ACCIDENT — OBSERVE  THE  LARGE  FOOL  OK  WAl  ER  WHICH  FORMED. 

Prom  a  Photo. 


extreme  points  showing  subsidence  are  included 
within    fifteen    hundred   acres,    while   the    most 


acres,  so  that  it  will 
be  seen  that  the 
subsiding  district  — 
remembering  always 
that  it  is  a  gradual 
sinkage  —  is  focused 
to  a  comparatively 
small  point. 

Let  us  turn  for  a 
moment  to  the  more 
recent  examples  of 
serious  sinkage. 
Separated  from  the 
High  Street  by  about 
one  hundred  yards, 
and  practically  a  con- 
tinuation of  the  same 
street,  London  Road 
has  proved  a  source 
of  gravity  to  the 
authorities.  Our 
illustrations  depict  a 
somewhat  sudden 
subsidence  which 
occurred  here  in 
November,  1898. 
The  roadway  was  seen  to  crack  and  bend  ;  then 
the  earth  began  to  trickle  downwards  ;  the  cavity 


A    IMKLIl    Al-    MARTON— WIIHLN    A    IKW    DAYS    HALF    AN    ACRE   Ol'    LAND   SUBSIDED,    FORMING    A    111    A    HUNDRED    FEET    DEE1> 
Proitl  a\  AND   MANY    YARDS    ACROSS.  [PhofO. 


serious  subsidences  are  contained  in  an  area 
of  six  hundred  acres.  The  main  area  where 
buildings  are  affected  extends  to  three  hundred 


increased  and  grew  deeper  and  wider  ;  water 
began  to  rise  in  the  hole ;  and  a  builder's 
ofifice  and   an  inn  commenced  to  l()[)ple.      For- 


A    SINKINC.     TOWN. 


45* 


tunatcly,  ;ill  this  li;ip|)cnc(l  slowly.  The  road 
was  dosed  to  traffic,  the  gas  mains,  the  water 
mains,  and  the  electric  cable  were  deranged, 
and  serious  inconvenience  was  occasioned. 
Ultimately  a  goodly  length  of  the  road  had  to 
be  reconstructed  upon  a  huge  timber  frame- 
work. One  of  the  photographs  shows  the  road 
as  it  appeared  when  it  broke  up,  while  the 
second  shows  the  pool  of  water  which  formed. 

On  Whit  Sunday  last 
a  V  i  s  i  t  o  r  w  h  o  had 
journeyed  to  Marton, 
four  miles  from  AVins- 
ford,  with  the  object  of 
examining  the  numerous 
lakes,  fissures,  and  other 
evidences  of  subsidence, 
was  crossing  a  field  path 
when  he  observed  cracks 
forming.  \\'ithin  the  next 
few  days  half  an  acre  of 
cultivated  land  had  sunk, 
forming  a  pit  one  hun- 
dred feet  deep  and  many 
yards  across.  One  of  the 
photos,  depicts  the  field 
at  Marton,  which  before 
the  subsidence  was  per- 
fectly level. 

But  it  is  only  when 
house  property  is  affected 
that  much  attention  is 
paid  to  the  salt  sub- 
sidences. This  is  to  be  expected,  for  it  is  this 
form  of  the  evil  that  presents  the  most  difficult 
problems  and  is  so  exceedingly  costly.  An 
outlay  of  many  thousands  of  pounds  is  repre- 
sented by  the  restoration  work  recently  com- 
pleted in  the  High  Street  of  Northwich. 
New  buildings  and  old  buildings  alike 
have  had  to  be  dealt  with  in  the  same 
way.  In  the  "composite"  structures  the 
brickwork  is  built  upon  and  between  beams 
and  crosspieces  of  timber.  When  the  order 
to  "  elevate "  is  given,  the  lower  courses  of 
brickwork  and  foundations  are  removed,  and 
beneath  the  main  beams  little  hydraulic  jacks 
are  placed.  Each  of  these  derives  its  power 
from  about  a  pint  of  water,  yet  is  capable  of 
raising  fifty  or  more  tons.  A  lever  is  attached 
to  each  jack  ;  this  is  worked  up  and  down  like 
a  pump-handle,  and,  hey,  presto  !  the  building 
begins  to  rise  in  the  world.  It  is  skilful  work, 
demanding  much  exactness  ;  the  jacks  have  to 
be   operated   evenly ;    and    in    the    case   of  the 


newer  property  a  building  (\\n  be  raised  anything 
from  a  foot  to  six  feet  without  disturbing  a  pane 
of  glass  or  seriously  interrupting  l)usiness. 
Difficult  raising  o[)erations,  for  instance,  were 
carried  on  at  the  shop  shown  in  my  last  photo- 
graph without  a  day's  cessation  of  business. 

In  the  examples  shown  in  our  illustrations 
the  raised  property  is  entered  by  temporary  steps  ; 
the  wedges  are  gradually  replaced  by  brickwork, 


from  d\ 


'business   carried   on    as    usual    — A   SHOl-    BEING    RAISED   ON   TE.MPORARV   PROPS 

WITHOUT   ANY  CESSATION   OK    BUSINESS.  [PhotO. 


the  surface  of  the  street  is  restored  in  the 
ordinary  way,  and  the  town  once  more  settles 
down  to  a  contemplation  of  the  annoyance  and 
loss  entailed  by  the  subsidences. 

Time  was  when  the  owner  of  a  sinking  house 
or  shop  received  no  compensation.  But  after 
one  of  the  most  memorable  struggles  ever 
experienced,  a  special  Act,  at  present  a[)plicable 
to  Northwich  only,  was  obtained.  Under  this 
the  pumpers  of  brine  contribute  threepence  per 
thousand  gallons  of  brine  pumped,  and  this  goes 
to  pay  for  the  damage  done.  When  the  Act  first 
became  operative  claims  amounting  to  almost 
thirty  thousand  pounds  were  laid  before  the  Com- 
pensation Board.  Many  were  for  damage  anterior 
to  the  passing  of  the  Act,  and  were  accordingly 
disallowed,  but  between  three  and  four  thousand 
pounds  a  year  has  since  been  paid  out.  Even 
with  this  aid  the  owners  feel  the  burden  sorely, 
for  nothing  in  the  form  of  improvements  is 
allowed  for,  and  the  claims  are  properly  subjected 
to  much  critical  e.xumination  and  reduction. 


IIN    5EAKCH    or 

PIRATE    TKEA5UKE. 


Bv  (Iko.   Kirkendale,  of  Victoria,  B.C. 

The  narrative  of  a  member  of  an  expedition  which  left  Victoria,  B.C.,  last  year  to  search  for 
the  enormous  treasures  which  are  said  to  have  been  buried  at  various  times  on  the  remote  Island 
of  Cocos.  Mr.  Kirkendale's  story  opens  up  a  fascinating  vista  of  possibilities,  for,  according 
to    all  accounts,  two  vast  treasures,    aggregating  £6,400,000  in  value,  are  hidden  somewhere  on   the 

little  island  and  only  await  a  lucky  finder. 


I  RATES  and  buried  treasure!"  I 
can  hear  matter-of-fact  people  say- 
ing ;  "all  that  romantic  business 
belongs  to  past  ages,  before  the 
days  of  steamships  and  banks." 
In  spite  of  this,  during  the  year  1902  no  fewer 
than  four  expeditions  were  fitted  out  to  search 
for  buried  pirate  treasure  on  a  small  rock  in  the 
Pacific  Ocean  known  as  Cocos  Island.  This 
island  is  about  fourteen  miles  in  circumference, 
and  lies    in  Lat.   5°  33'  N.  and  Long.  87"  W., 


Vague  reports  are  in  circulation  of  vast 
amounts  of  treasure  buried  in  several  different 
places  on  the  island,  but  many  of  these  stories 
are  mere  legends  on  which  no  reliance  is  to  be 
placed.  The  stories  with  the  best  foundation 
of  truth  concern  two  treasures,  the  one  known 
as  the  "  Devonshire  treasure,"  of  the  estimated 
value  of  ^3,400,000  in  gold  and  silver  bricks, 
and  the  other  the  "  Keyton  treasure,"  of  about 
;i^3, 000,000  in  jewels  and  coin. 

The    information     available    concerning    the 


Cocos  Island 


CHART   OK    cocos    ISLAND,    SHOWING   THE  TRAD 


rrioNAi.  i.ocAi'KiN  01     1111: 


i)i;\i)NsiiiKi-; 


TREASUNES. 


in  that  huge,  sweeping  bight  between  North 
and  South  America.  The  nearest  land  is  the 
coast  of  Central  America,  about  three  hundred 
and  fifty  miles  distant.  The  island  is  thus 
entirely  isolated  and  very  difficult  of  approach 
by  sailing  ships,  owing  to  the  frequent  calms  and 
the  light  winds  which  prevail  in  that  region.  It 
is  not  remarkable,  therefore,  that  Cocos  has 
been  the  rendezvous  of  jjirates  ever  since  the 
time  of  the  Spanish  conquest. 


"  Devonshire  treasure  "  comes  from  Mr.  Hart- 
ford, a  former  resident  of  Victoria,  B.C.  He 
says:  "In  1821  my  grandfather  shipped  as  a 
surgeon  on  a  British  warship,  the  Devonshire, 
for  a  cruise  on  the  west  coast  of  South  and 
("entral  America.  The  vessel  captured  such  a 
vast  amount  of  treasure  from  the  Spaniards 
that  the  crew,  overcome  by  cupidity,  mutinied 
and  seized  the  ship,  afterwards  continuing  the 
cruise   as    pirates.       I'hey  made   Cocos    Island 


IN    Sl::Al<(il    ()|-    IMKAI'i:    TKI  .ASL^  kl".. 


45  J 


their  head-quarters  and  built  a  smah  settlement 
there,  the  remauis  of  which  may  still  be  seen  in 
Wafer  Bay.  I'he  British  Government  sent 
several  ships  in  pursuit  of  the  pirates,  and  they, 
fearing  capture,  fmally  melted  all  their  treasure 
down  into  bricks  and  stored  it  in  a  cave  in  a 
bank  near  their  settlement.  To  hide  the 
spot  they  placed  a  keg  of  gunpowder  at 
the  entrance  of  the  cave  and  exploded  it, 
blowing  down 
the  face  of  the 
cliff.  Thei;.- 
vonshire  was 
afterwards 
captured  by 
the  British  and 
a  number  of 
the  crew  exe 
cuted  for  their 
crimes,  while 
the  remainder 
were  trans- 
ported as  con- 
victs to  Aus- 
tralia. Some  of 


"    1  HKY    EXl'LOUlil)    II,    IVI.UWING    DOWN    THE    KACK    IM'     I 

these  convicts  afterwards  returned  to  Cocos 
Island,  seeking  for  the  treasure,  but  so  far  as 
is  known  it  was  never  taken  away." 

This  ship  Devonshire  seems,  so  far  as  1 
can  ascertain,  to  have  been  identical  with  the 
Realmbari^o,  the  ship  of  the  celebrated  pirate 
known  as  "  Bonita."  She  was  H.M.S.  Devon- 
shire when  she  left  England  for  the  West  Indian 


station,  but,  as  I  have  shown,  the  crew  mutinied 
and  sailed  her  to  Cocos  Island  under  the  new 
name  of  the  Rcalmbargo. 

The  story  of  the  "  Keyton  treasure"  is  even 
more  romantic.      During  the  war  between  Chili 
and  Peru,  in   1835,   Lima,  the  ca[)ital  of  Peru, 
was  threatened   by  the  Chilian    army,  and    for 
safety  the  Peruvians  removed  their  Crown  jewels 
and,  in  fact,  most  of  their  portable  wealth  to 
the  strong  fort  in  the  seaport 
of  Callao.     This    fort  was   in 
turn    attacked    and    captured, 
but    before    surrendering    the 
(lovernor  removed  the    whole 
of  the  treasure  aboard  a  Nova 
Scotian  barque,  the  Mary  Deer, 
that   had   come   into   the    har- 
bour seeking  cargo.    He  fondly 
expected   the    treasure    would 
be    perfectly    safe    under    the 
British  flag,  but  no  sooner  was 
it  aboard  than  the  Mary  Deer 
cut    her    cables    and    slipped 
away  to  sea.    The  treasure  was 
taken    to    Cocos    Island,    and 
buried  either  in  Wafer  Bay  or 
the  Little    Bay   there.       Here 
is     the     story     as    given     by 
Thompson,    mate    and    after- 
wards   captain    of    the   Mary 
Deer :  -■ 

"  In  1835  I  shipped  in 
Bristol,  with  a  crew  of  twelve 
men,  on  the  barque  Afary 
Deer,  bound  for  Valparaiso, 
with  a  cargo  of  coal.  On  the 
way  out  the  captain  died,  leav- 
ing eleven  souls  all  told  on 
board.  \\'e  discharged  our 
coal  and  went  up  the  coast 
seeking  cargo.  At  that  time 
a  war  was  in  progress  between 
Peru  and  Chili,  and  while  we 
were  in  Callao  Harbour  the 
city  was  attacked.  The  Crown 
jewels  and  other  treasures  of 
Peru  had  been  brought  from 
Lima  to  Callao  and  placed  in 
the  fort  for  safety,  but  the 
Peruvians,  afraid  of  it  being 
captured,  put  it  all  aboard  our 
ship,  under  the  protection  of  the  British  Hag. 
We  were  tempted  by  the  glittering  millions, 
and  in  the  night  we  cut  our  cables  and  |)ut 
to  sea.  When  the  Peruvians  found  we  had 
actually  run  away  with  the  treasure  they  gave 
chase,  but  our  barcjue  was  a  swift  sailer  and 
we  soon  left  them  behind. 

"  What  to  do  with   the  treasure   was  a  puzzle, 


HE   Cl.llK. 


454 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


but  at  last,  after  a  consultation,  we  decided  to 
bury  it  on  Cocos  Island.  We  accordingly 
anchored  in  a  bay  and  landed  on  a  sandy  beach 
where  a  small  stream  ran  out.  Stretching 
back  from  the  beach  is  a  piece  of  level 
ground  about'  two  acres  in  extent.  We  fol- 
lowed the  stream,  and  near  its  head,  at 
the  foot  of  the  hill,  on  the  piece  of  level 
ground,  we  selected  the  spot  where  we 
buried  the  treasure.  What  the  value  of  the 
treasure  was  I  do  not  know,  but  it  must  have 
been  many  millions,  as  there  were  ten  boatloads 
of  it.  (It  was  fifteen  million  dollars,  according 
to  the  official  statement 
of  the  Peruvians.) 
After  leaving  the 
island,  however,  we 
were  pursued  and  cap- 
tured by  a  Peruvian 
vessel  and  taken  to 
Callao.  We  were  there 
tried  as  pirates  and 
sentenced  to  be  shot. 
The  sentence  was  duly 
carried  out  on  eight 
men,  but  myself  and 
two  companions  were 
pardoned  on  agreeing 
lo  divulge  the  spot 
where  the  treasure  was 
hidden.  Thinking  there 
might  be  some  chance 
of  escape,  we  said  the 
gold  was  on  the  Gala- 
pagos Islands.  Before 
reaching  these  islands, 
however,  for  some 
reason  we  put  into  the 
Pay  of  Dulce,  where 
nearly  all  the  crew — 
including  one  of  my 
companions  —  died  of 
fever.  Anchored  near 
us  was  a  whaler,  and 
one  night  she  put  to 
sea.  As  she  was  pass- 
ing tlie  two  of  us 
jumped  overboard  and  swam  to  her,  and  were 
taken  on  board.  The  captain  was  glad  to 
have  us,  as  he  had  lost  some  of  his  own 
crew  from  fever.  We  were  on  the  whaler 
for  several  years— saying  no  word  about  the 
treasure— and  then  went  home  to  Nova  Scotia." 
In  1842  Thompson  died  at  the  home  of  Mr. 
Keyton  in  Cape  Breton,  but  before  dying  told 
Keyton  the  story  and  gave  him  directions  for 
finding  the  treasure.  In  1844  Keyton  shipped 
on  a  whaler,  and  when  they  put  into  Cocos 
Island  for  water   he   went  ashore  alone,  found 


THE    UUIGA.NTINli         lil.AKKLEV,  '    IN    WHICH    THE   TliEASUKE- 
SEEKEKS     SAILED     FOR    COCOS    ISLAND    ON    JANUAKV   6tH,    IQO?. 

From  a  Photo. 


the  treasure,  and  hid  what  he  could  about  his 
person.  He  returned  safely  to  Nova  Scotia 
with  his  money,  and  in  1846,  in  company  with 
a  man  named  Pogu,  fitted  out  a  small  schooner 
for  the  ostensible  purpose  of  pearl-fishing  in 
the  Bay  of  Dulce.  They  crossed  over  to 
Cocos  Island,  and  both  Keyton  and  Bogu 
loaded  themselves  with  what  gold  they  could 
conceal.  They  at  once  returned  to  Panama 
with  their  wealth,  but  while  landing  their  boat 
was  capsized,  either  purposely  or  accidentally, 
and  Bogu  was  drowned.  Keyton  clung  to  the 
boat  and  was  saved,  but  he  never  could  muster 

courage  sufficient  to 
return  to  Cocos.  He 
carried  away  in  all 
about  twenty -two 
thousand  dollars  in  the 
two  trips. 

And  now  for  our 
share  in  the  romance. 
Last  year  a  stock  com- 
I)any  was  formed  here 
in  Victoria,  B.C.,  under 
the  name  of  the 
"  Pacific  Exploration 
and  Development 
Company,"  tor  the  pur- 
pose of  seeking  and 
recovering  any  treasure 
to  be  found  on  Cocos 
Island.  Mr,  Justin 
Gilbert,  the  organizer 
of  the  company,  had 
invented  an  instrument 
for  locating  silver,  and 
Mr.  Enyart,  a  gentle- 
man from  Spokane, 
had  an  instrument  for 
indicating  the  presence 
of  gold,  and  on  the 
strength  of  these  two 
useful  contrivances, 
together  with  the  infor- 
mation furnished  by 
Captain  Hackett,  a 
former  neighbour  of 
was  organized.  The 
of  one  thousand  shares  at 
share,  and  with  the  capital 
the    B/akeley,    of 


Keyton,    the    company 

stock    consisted 

ten    dollars    per 

thus     raised    a     brigantine. 


and     fifty    tons 
fitted    out    with 


register,     was 
supplies    for 


On  January  6th,  1902,  we  were 


one     hundred 
purchased    and 
seven  months. 

towed  out  of  Victoria  Harbour  amid  a  salvo  of 
cheers  from  the  large  crowd  assembled  at  the 
dock  to  bid  us  farewell  and  good  luck.  The 
tug  dropped  us  about  ten  miles  out  and,  with  a 
parting  salute,  returned  to  Victoria,  and  we  were 


iM    SEARCH    OI'    IMRAII.     1  KliASU  RK 


455 


taiii)'  started  on  our  voyage  to  seek  the  pirate 
treasure. 

For  the  first  month  we  had  a  continual  suc- 
cession of  heavy  gales  ;  but,  luckily,  the  Blakeiey 
proved  an  excellent  sea-boat,  and  beyond  losing 
our  two  topgallant  sails  we  came  through 
without  a  mishap.  . 
Our  crew  con- 
sisted of  the  skip- 
per, Captain  Fred 
Hackett,  with 
Captain  W'hidden 
and  Mr.  George 
l^owell  as  first  and 
second  mates,  Mr. 
Clilbert,  Mr.  En- 
yart,  and  Mr. 
Raub  with  their 
instruments,  the 
cook,  the  steward, 
and  si.K  A.B.'s— 
fourteen  all  told, 
quite  sufficient  to 
handle  our  little 
vessel  when  once 
we  had  left  the 
heavy  weather 
behind. 

After  leaving 
the  Fower  Cali- 
fornia coast  we 
ran  south  to  the 
line,  and  then  put 
in  a  dreary,  mo- 
n  o  t  o  n  o  u  s  t  w  o 
months  and  a 
half  trying  to  work 
eastward  through 
the  "  doldrums." 
^^'e  rolled  and 
tumbled  about  in 
a  continual  suc- 
cession of  calms 
and  light  head 
winds,  drenched 
with  incessant 
tropical  showers, 
with  nothing  to 
relieve  the  awful 
monotony  except 
the  occasional 
capture  of  a  shark 
or      porpoise. 

Turtles  proved  quite  numerous,  and  furnished 
us  with  several  excellent  dishes  of  soup  and 
curry.  At  length,  when  nearly  worn  out  both 
in  body  and  temper,  we  reached  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  the  island,  and  found  that  our 
chronometer    must    be    astrav.       ^^'e   knocked 


IMS    INSTKUMKNT    HAD    Dl.sCoVtKtU    AN    '  All  K  ACTION. 


about  for  several  days,  till  luckily  we  spoke 
the  Danish  ship,  Singa/ese,  when  we  found  we 
were  three  and  a  half  degrees  farther  west 
than  our  reckoning  !  We  therefore  stood 
due  east,  and  next  day,  to  our  great  joy, 
sighted  Cocos  Island  in  the  distance. 

From    the    sea 
the  island    has  a 
bold  and   rugged 
appearance,  being 
composed     of     a 
succession  of 
rocky    peaks, 
ranging  from  four 
to  eight  hundred 
feet   in    height, 
and    covered     to 
the    summit  with 
a  dense  mass    of 
tropical    vegeta- 
tion.    It  is  nearly 
square   in    shape, 
about    fourteen 
miles    in    circum- 
ference, and  rises 
abruptly  from  the 
sea    on  all  sides. 
Owing   to  the 
continual      heavy 
surf,     Chatham 
Bay  —  which    we 
selected    for    our 
anchorage  —  and 
^^'afer  Bay,  where 
the    treasure   was 
supposed  to  have 
been    buried,    are 
the     only     places 
where   a    landing 
can    be   safely 
effected     with     a 
small  boat.     The 
rocky    shore    is 
worn    and    hol- 
lowed,   by    the 
ceaseless    roll    of 
the  ocean  surges, 
into     holes      and 
caverns,    some- 
times of  enormous 
extent.Thesecond 
mate  and  I  puUeil 
into  one  of  these 
caverns  one  day,  and  after   passing  through  a 
tunnel  of  about  a  hundred  feet  we  found  our- 
selves  in   a   chamber   so   vast   that    the    swell 
could  scarcely  be  felt.     We  pulled  about  in  it, 
but  it  was  too  dark  to  see  the  extreme  limits. 
In  my  oj^inion  a   better  hiding-place  for  treasure 


45' 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MACiAZLNE. 


than  this  cavern  could  not  be  found,  but  no 
one  seems  to  have  thought  of  this  spot  as  a 
hkely  place  to  search. 

It  was  April  17th  before  we  dropped  anchor 
in  Chatham  Bay,  and  a  portion  of  our  party  at 
once  landed  in  Wafer  Bay  and  commenced  the 
search.  The  first  day  ashore  Mr.  Enyart  claimed 
that  his  instrument  had  discovered  an  "  attrac- 
tion," and  you  may  be  sure  we  all  went  to  work 
with  a  will  at  the  spot  indicated.  We  made  an 
open  cut  in  the  bank  down  to  the  hard-pan, 
twenty-two  feet  in  depth,  and  being  then  below 
the  bed  of  the  little  stream  and  nothing  in  sight, 
we  abandoned  that  place  in  disgust.  "  Attrac- 
tions "  were  found  by  the  instruments  in  a  dozen 
different  places  on  the 
flat,  and  in  each  of  these 
we  dug,  with  a  like 
result. 

We  had,  of  course, 
had  many  predecessors 
in  the  search,  and  some 
of  these  had  left  behind 
things  which  proved  very 
useful  to  us.  Seventeen 
years  previously  a  gentle- 
man  named  August 
(Jeissler  had  come  to 
Cocos  in  the  employ  of 
a  New  York  company, 
furnished  with  all  neces- 
sary tools  and  imple- 
ments to  prosecute  the 
search  for  the  treasure. 
He  built  several  corru- 
gated iron  houses,  cleared 
part  of  the  flat,  and 
started  a  banana  planta- 
tion, but  after  many  years 
of  patient  but  unsuc- 
cessful digging  he  aban- 

■'' d   his    Robinson 

-•  life  and  returned 
to  ijan  Francisco  the 
previous  (Jhristmas, 
emptyhand(,tl. 

We  reaped  the  benefits  of  Mr.  Geissler's  efforts, 
living  in  his  lu)us(:s  and  eating  his  bananas — 
tons  of  which  were  rotting  on  tlie  ground. 
(Jocoa-nut  trees  are  very  [jlentiful,  as  well  as 
lemons  and  papaws,  so  we  hatl  plenty  of  Iniit 
while  ashore.  We  also  got  plenty  of  fresh  meat. 
Over  a  hundred  years  ago  Captain  Vancouver 
slocked  the  island  with  hogs,  and  these  furnished 
us  with  many  a  hearty  meal  of  fresh  meat.  Run- 
ning wild  for  such  a  length  of  time,  ihey  have  lost 
all  the  characteristics  of  the  hog  except  the  shape. 
They  are  wilder  and  more  difficult  to  approach 
than    deer,    and    th.-ir    fi^-sh    looks    and    tastes 


TIIL    AUlllOK,    .MK.    GKO.    KlKKliN  DALE,    OF    VlCll^KIA,    B.C., 
WHO     WAS     A     MBMflCR     OF   THE     EXl-EDITION     IN     SEARCH    OF 

/■'fviii  a  riwto.  by\  treasure.  [/.  P.  Scanncll. 


like  a  cross  between  venison  and  mutton.  The 
only  other  animals  to  be  found  on  the  island  are 
cats  and  rats  which  have  come  ashore  from  ships, 
and  these  —  especially  the  latter — simply  swarm. 
There  are  no  snakes  on  the.  island,  but  lizards 
in  millions.  Numerous  centipedes  and  scorpions 
are  to  be  found  on  the  rocks,  while  land  crabs 
and  the  most  hideous-looking  water  crabs 
abound  along  the  beach.  Fish,  especially  rock 
cod,  were  plentiful,  and  by  exploding  half  a  stick 
of  dynamite  at  the  mouth  of  the  creek  we  could 
raise  them  by  the  dozen.  The  greatest  pests 
are  the  little  red  ants.  These  are  to  be  found 
everywhere,  and  their  bite  is  almost  as  painful 
as    the    sting    of    a    bee.       Mosquitoes    were 

numerous,  but  we  had 
so  much  rain  that  they 
were  almost  washed  out 
of  existence. 

Unfortunately  for  us 
we  struck  the  island  just 
at  the  commencement 
of  the  rainy  season,  and 
for  four  months  we  had 
scarcely  twenty-four 
hours'  dry  weather.  And 
such  rain  !  It  was  just 
as  if  all  the  rain- clouds 
in  the  universe  had  been 
massed  together  over  our 
devoted  heads  and  made 
to  discharge  their  watery 
contents.  One  day,  after 
about  an  hour's  rain,  I 
noticed  four  and  a  half 
inches  of  water  in  a 
bucket.  Then  the  rain 
would  suddenly  cease 
and  the  tropical  sun 
would  pour  down  upon 
us,  causing  the  steam  to 
rise  from  the  ground  in 
clouds  and  kee[)ing  us  in 
a  continual  va[)our  bath. 
Being  continually  wet  it 
is  wonderful  how  we  all 
escaped  fever,  but,  luckily,  we  pulled  through 
with  pretty  fair  health.  A  person  becomes  so 
enfeebled  'and  enervated  by  the  intense  heat 
and  moisture,  however,  that  it  is  almost  im- 
possible for  a  white  man  to  do  labouring  work 
in  that  climate.  When  we  knocked  off  digging 
in  the  evening  we  were  covered  with  mud  up  to 
the  very  eyes,  and  our  first  act  was  simply  to 
jump  into  the  sea,  "all  standing,"  to  clean  our- 
selves. The  rain  is  almost  like  hot  water  and 
the  sea  about  the  same  tem[)erature,  so  that 
it  tends  to  weaken  instead  of  refresh  the 
system. 


IN    SEARCH    OF    PIRATE    TREASURE. 


457 


Meanwhile  the  weary  search  for  those  elusive 
millions  went  on  day  after  day.  For  nearly 
a  month  we  worked  like  beavers,  removing' 
hundreds  of  tons  of  earth  and  rock  and 
boring  fully  a  hundred  auger  holes,  and  then 
we  reluctantly  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
our  labour  was  all  in  vain.  Not  the  least  trace 
of  any  treasure,  or  of  one  ever  having  been 
there,  did  we  find  throughout  our  search.  We 
consoled  our- 
sehes,  however, 
with  the  reflec- 
tion that  we 
were  not  the 
only  fools  in  the 
world.  At  least 
twenty  expedi- 
tions have  been 
to  Cocos  Island 
in  quest  of  this 
treasure,  and 
hundreds  of 
thousands  of 
dollars  have 
been  spent  to 
no  pur[)Ose. 
The  whole  of 
the  flat  is 
honeycombed 
with  holes,  tun- 
nels, and  cross- 
cuts made  by 
different  trea- 
sure-seekers ; 
and  as  these 
pitfalls  are 
thickly  over- 
grow n  w  i  t  h 
''morning 
glory  "  vines,  it 
is  very  danger- 
ous to  attem[)t 
to  move  about. 
In  fact,  so 
thickly  do  these 
vines  grow  on 
the  island  that 
it  is  impossible 
to  make  your 
way  about 
without     first 

cutting  a    trail    with    a  machete   through    the 
vegetation. 

On  May  i  ilh,  after  nearly  a  month  of  useless 
hard  work  on  this  inhospitable  "Treasure 
Island" — the  grave  of  so  many  fond  hopes  — we 
lifted  our  anchor  and  started  for  home.  The 
return    trip   was   very   similar   to    the    outward 


THK    XVFARV    SEAKCIl    WKNT    ON. 


voyage,  as  we  had  two  months  of  calms  and 
light  head  winds,  with  daily  or  almost  hourly 
rain-squalls,  before  we  struck  the  N.E.  Trades. 
After  we  got  into  these  we  made  a  splendid  run 
home,  reaching  Victoria,  li.C,  on  August  7th. 
It  was  a  joyful  day  when  we  picked  up  the  tug  off 
Cape  IHattcry,  as  we  had  scarcely  enough  pro- 
visions left  to  keep  ourselves  alive.  Our  canned 
goods  were  all  gone,  as  well  as  our  potatoes,  tea, 
and  sugar,  and  for  the  last  month 
we  had  lived  on  nothing  but 
salt  beef  and  pork  and  mouldy 
flour.  When  we  reached  the 
dock  we  had  scarcely  strength 
sufficient  to  make  the  vessel 
fast,  and  we  hardly  stopped  to 
greet  the  crowds  of  friends  and 
well-wishers  who  were  there  to 
greet  us  and  to  learn  what  luck 
we  had  had  before  we  made 
a  break  for  a 
restaurant  and 
had  a  good 
square  meal  — 
the  first  for 
many  a  long 
day. 

And  so  ended 
our  search  for 
the  buried  trea- 
sure of  Cocos 
Island.  Perhaps 
there  never 
were  any  trea- 
sures, although 
there  seems  no 
reason  to  doubt 
their  existence. 
]>ut  if  they  were 
really  buried  on 
Cocos  Island 
there  are  only 
two  alternatives 
— e  i  t  her  the 
precious  hoards 
have  been  dis- 
covered and 
secretly  re- 
moved by  one 
of  the  many  ex- 
peditions, or 
else  — and  this  is  the  most  probable  hypothesis 
— the  treasure  lies  buried  at  some  out-of-the- 
way  spot  which  has  never  yet  been  searched, 
probably  in  one  of  the  many  caves  I  have  men- 
tioned. If  so,  then  fabulous  wealth,  literally 
"  beyond  the  dreams  of  avarice,"  awaits  the  lucky 
finder  on  that  remote  and  rocky  Pacific  isle. 


Vol.  X.-58. 


K^^^ 


The  famous  African  hunter  here  relates  his  experiences  in  a  new  field— the  little-known  interior  of 

Newfoundland— whither  he  journeyed  to  shoot  caribou  deer.     Mr.  Selous  met  with  splendid  sport ; 

and  he  illustrates  his  narrative  with  some  very  striking  photographs. 


HE  morning  of  September  17th 
ushered  in  a  fine,  bright  day,  with  a 
strong  wind  blowing  from  the  south- 
west. After  an  early  breakfast 
Saunders  and  I  started  out  for  a 
day's  ramble  through  what  we  deemed  to  be 
{)ractically  our  own  private  hunting-ground. 
Almost  immediately  we  saw  a  doe  and  a  fawn 
coming  along  the  lake  shore,  and  I  stood  and 
watched  them  until  they  were  within  a  hundred 
yards  of  our  camp,  when  they  got  our  wind, 
and  after  running  backwards  and  forwards  and 
staring  at  us  for  some  time  finally  trotted  off. 

Wc  then  followed  the  course  of  the  river  for 
two  or  three  miles,  when,  coming  to  a  little 
tributary  brook,  meandering  through  an  open, 
marshy  valley,  we  made  our  way  along  it,  and 
after  a  time  sighted  a  small  caribou  stag,  and 
about  an  hour  later  a  large  one.  This  latter 
came  out  into  the  open  marsh  from  a  strip  of 
forest  about  two  hundred  yards  ahead  of  us, 
and  then,  turning,  walked  straight  away  from  us. 
I  walked  after  him  as  fast  as  I  could  in  the  soft, 
spongy  bog,  stopping  whenever  he  stojijied  and 
only  moving  when  he  did.  Presently  I  was 
within  a  hundred  yards  of  him,  but  did  not  care 
to  fire  a  shot  at  his  hind-quarters,  so  I  kept  my 
distance  from  him  and  waited  for  him  to  turn. 

After  a  time  he  neared  a  low,  rocky  ridge, 
and  in  climbing  on  to  this  changed  his  direction 
and  for  a  moment  y)resented  his  broadside  to 
me.  I  took  as  (]uick  an  aim  as  I  could  and 
fired.  The  stag  dashed  forward  and  disappeared 
over  the  ridge,  but  I  felt  sure  I  had  hit   him, 


though  I  did  not  hear  tlic  bullet  tell.  In  a  few 
seconds  the  animal  appeared  coming  towards  us 
again  some  fifty  yards  farther  along  the  ridge, 
and,  staggering  down  to  the  marshy  ground 
below  it,^  fell  dead.  He  proved  to  be  a  very 
large  and  heavy  animal  and  was  excessively  fat. 
Judging  by  the  appearance  of  his  teeth  he 
must  have  been  very  old,  but  his  horns,  though 
of  good  length  and  fair  thickness  in  the  beam, 
only  carried  twenty-six  points.  My  expanding 
bullet  —  a  Government  "  Duni  -  l)um  " —  had 
struck  him  just  behind  the  shoulder  and  torn 
a  large  hole  through  the  upper  part  of  his 
heart,  yet  I  could  not  find  a  single  drop  of 
blood  on  his  tracks  after  he  had  been  hit, 
though  I  examined  the  ground  carefully  right 
up  to  the  spot  where  he  lay  dead. 

After  cleaning  this  stag  and  cutting  off  his 
head  we  hunted  round  for  another  couple  of 
hours,  through  what  seemed  beautiful  country 
for  caribou — a  land  of  marsh  and  swam])y  forest, 
diversified  by  outcrops  of  rock,  covered  with  a 
thin  layer  of  soil  on  which  grew  a  profusion 
of  berries  and  white  moss.  Though  recent 
tracks  were  numerous,  iiowever,  we  saw  no  more 
of  the  animals  that  had  made  them,  so  we 
returned  to  the  dead  stag  and  carried  his  head 
home.  During  our  absence  Jolin  Wells  had 
seen  two  caribou — a  doe  and  a  fawn — cross  the 
river  a  little  above  our  camp,  and  a  large  flock 
of  Canadian  geese,  disturbed  by  our  approach, 
flew  up  from  the  same  mud-bank  on  which  we 
had  seen  them  sitting  the  previous  day.  I 
may  here  say  that  from  the  farther  bank  of  the 


AFTKR    WOODLAND    CARUJOU    IN    NEWFOLXI  )1.AN  D. 


459 


river  opposite  our  camp  there  stretched,  between 
the  forest  and  the  lake,  a  wide  expanse  of  mud 
and  sand,  which  ap[)eared  to  be  a  favourite 
resort  of  ducks  and  gccse,  and,  as  it  afterwards 
appeared,  of  caribou  as  well. 

I  had  just  had  something  to  eat  and  was 
commencing  to  skin  the  head  of  the  stag  shot 
in  the  morninLT  when  Saunders  announced  that 


I  was,  and    I    began  [o 
might    shift    and    give 
approach.      So,   taking 
steady  aim,  I  fired.     At 
over  on   his  back,  but, 
on  his  legs  and  came 
let   him    come   on    to 
twenty  yards  and   then 


be  afraid  that  the  wind 

him     warning    of    my 

what    I    thought  was  a 

the  shot  the  stag  rolled 

recovering  himself,  got 

running  towards  me.     I 

within   a   hundred   and 

put   another  bullet  into 


l->oin  a\ 


1  IIK     HKS  I     MAI. 


there  was  a  deer  on  the  lake  shore  beyond  the 
river,  about  a  mile  away  from  camp.  On  look- 
ing through  my  glasses  I  saw  at  once  that  it 
was  a  big  stag,  and  as  I  could  see,  too,  that  its 
antlers  just  above  its  head  were  very  much 
palmated,  I  judged  it  to  be  an  animal  worth 
shooting.  I  therefore  got  Saunders  to  paddle 
me  across  the  river  at  once,  and  we  then  skirted 
the  open  ground  in  the  shelter  of  the  forest. 
When  at  length  I  got  opposite  to  the  stag  I 
found  that  he  had  lain  down  right  out  on  the 
bare  ground. 

For  twenty  yards  or  so  beyond  the  edge  of 
the  forest  there  grew  a  fringe  of  rough  grass, 
but  when  I  had  crept  to  the  verge  of  this 
there  was  absolutely  not  a  vestige  of  cover 
on  the  level  expanse  of  mud  between  myself 
and  the  recumbent  stag,  which  I  judged  to  be 
something  more  than  two  hundred  yards  away 
from  me.  He  was  lying  broadside  on  to  me, 
but  with  his  head  turned  away,  and  I  lay  still 
and  watched  him  for  some  time.  Several  times 
he  lay  flat  down  on  his  side,  but  never  remained 
long  in  this  position.  I  believe  that  I  could 
have  crawled  quite  close  up  to  him  over  the 
mud  ;  but  I  thought  I  could  hit  him  from  where 


.  1     SI.     JI'II\S    L.M.I.  {J'JlotO. 

his  chest,  which  must  have  pierced  his  heart, 
as  he  made  a  short  rush  forwards  and  fell  over 
dead.  On  going  up  to  him  I  found  that  my 
first  bullet  had  entered  his  body  too  low  behind 
the  shoulder. 

He  carried  a  truly  magnificent  head  of  forty 
points.  The  number  of  points,  though  high, 
was,  however,  not  its  strongest  claim  to  excel- 
lence, as  the  horns  were  palmated  from  base  to 
tops,  and  the  great  secondary  "  shovels  ''  above 
the  brow  antlers  were  extraordinarily  broad  and 
strong,  as  were  all  the  points  on  the  upper 
portion  of  the  horns.  Had  both  the  lower 
"shovels" — the  palmated  brow  antlers,  which 
are  sometimes  interlocked  above  the  face  of 
a  caribou  stag — been  of  equal  size,  it  would 
indeed  have  been  a  head  of  extraordinary 
strength  and  beauty.  One  of  the  brow  antlers, 
however,  though  palmated,  was  inferior  to  the 
other  in  size. 

Still,  taken  altogether,  it  is  a  wonderful  head, 
and  personally  I  have  never  seen  a  better  in 
any  museum  or  private  collection,  although,  no 
doubt,  old  sportsmen  like  (ieneral  Dashwood, 
Admiral  Kennedy,  and  others  who  hunted 
caribou  in  Newfoundland  many  years  ago  could 


460 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


fMtAIKA 


show  something  to  beat  it.  It  was  an  extra- 
ordinary piece  of  luck  that  I,  who  have  only 
seen  such  a  limited  number  of  caribou  stags, 
should  have  happened  to  come  across  such  a 
splendid  old  veteran  ! 

Saunders  was  very  pleased  with  this  head, 
and  said  that,  although  in  the  course  of  his  long 
experience  he  had  seen  a  few  stags  with  some- 
what longer  horns  or  more  points,  he  had  never 
yet  seen  a  handsomer  all-round  specimen.  I  at 
once  sent  him  back  to  camp  to  fetch  my  camera 
and  call  John  Wells  to  help  to  cut  up  the  stag. 
Whilst  he  was 
away  another 
stag  with  a 
small  head 
came  out  of  the 
forest  and,  after 
walking  along 
the  water's 
edge  till  he  was 
just  opposite  to 
me,  lay  down 
on  the  mud 
within  two  hun- 
dred yards  of 
where  I  was 
sitting  on  the 
i)ody  of  the 
dead  giant.  ' 

Pr  ese  n  t  ly 
Saunders  and 
Wells  came 
paddling  to- 
wards him  in 
the  Canadian 
canoe,  and  it 
was  most  amus- 
ing to  watch 
the  play  of 
his  varying 
emotions  as  he  gazed  at  the  unwonted  sight. 
Fear  and  curiosity  l)oth  possessed  his  soul,  and 
as  the  canoe  advanced  he  kept  alternately 
advancing  towards  it  and  then  trotting  away 
along  the  shore.  He  let  my  men  land  within  a 
hundred  yards  of  him,  and  all  the  time  we  were 
photographing,  and  afterwards  skinning  and 
dismembering,  the  old  stag,  he  remained  on  the 
(jpen  mud-flat,  gazing  curitnisly  at  us  from  a 
distance  of  less  than  tiiree  hundred  yards. 

Towards  nightfall  the  strong  wind,  wliich  had 
been  blowing  hard  all  day  long  from  the  south- 
west, died  away,  and  rain  came  on  which  lasted 
till  nearly  noon  next  day,  when  the  clouds 
cleared  off  and  the  weather  Ixrame  beautiful. 
As  I  had  two  cariliou  heads  to  skin  and  prepare 
I  remained  in  camp,  whilst  Saunders  and  Wells 
went  for  the  meat  of  the  first  of  the  two  stags 


From  a 


shot  on  the  previous  day.  Whilst  they  were 
away  I  interrupted  my  work  at  short  intervals, 
and  reconnoitred  the  mud-flat  across  the  river. 
Early  in  the  day  a  doe  caribou  made  her 
appearance  and  presently  lay  down  on  the  open 
ground,  and  later  on  a  fine  stag,  after  wandering 
about  for  some  time  but  never  approaching  the 
doe,  finally  took  up  its  position  for  the  day 
within  four  hundred  yards  of  our  camp,  but  quite 
three  hundred  from  the  nearest  cover  on  the 
bank  of  the  river.  I  could  see  with  my  glasses 
that  this  stag  carried  a  fairly  good  head  and 

was  quite  worth 
-  shooting, 

though  a  much 
inferior  animal 
to  the  monster 
of  the  da)- 
before. 

I  now  watch- 
ed for  the  return 
of  my  men,  who 
had  gone  up 
the  river  in  the 
canoes,  and  as 
soon  as  they 
came  back  I 
crossed  to  the 
other  side,  and 
was  soon  on 
the  edge  of  the 
nearest  cover 
to  the  sleeping 
stag.  I  was, 
liowever,  still 
cjuite  three 
hundred  yards 
away  from  him, 
and,  not  caring 
to  risk  a  shot 
at  that  distance, 
resolved  to  crawl  out  to  him  over  the  open  mud. 
This  I  did  without  difliculty,  as  the  slee[)ing 
beauty  never  once  looked  up,  though  his  head 
faced  towards  me  as  he  lay,  but  continued  to 
dream  the  happy  hours  away  till  his  slumbers 
were  rudely  disturbed  by  my  first  shot,  which 
struck  iiim  too  low,  as,  lying  flat  on  the 
ground  as  I  was,  I  had  underestimated  the 
distance.  As  he  struggled  to  his  feet  I  sat  up 
and  killed  him  with  a  second  bullet.  He  was 
a  fine  old  stag,  very  fat,  like  all  the  others  I 
had  shot,  and  carried  a  very  prettv  and  regular 
head. 

I  had  now  shot  four  out  of  the  five  caribou 
stags  that  I  was  entitled  to  kill,  and  I  was  not  long 
in  getting  the  fifth.  September  19th  was  a  soak- 
ing wet  day,  rain  falling  steadily  all  the  time. 
Saunders  and  I  went  for  a  long  tramp,  but  saw 


\ 


V    CAKIIiOU    IIKAD. 


AFTHR    WOODLAND    CARIHOU     IX     M  A\  lOUNDLANi ) 


4'" 


nothing  except  a  single  doe  caribou,  and  I  fancy 
that  in  wet  weather,  during  the  summer  and 
early  autumn,  these  animals  do  not  usually 
travel  in  the  open  marshes,  but  lie  up  in  the 
shelter  of  the  thick  spruce  woods,  where  it  is 
very  difficult  to  fmd  them.  In  the  afternoon 
the  rain  came  on  more  heavily  than  ever,  and 
fell  in  drenching  showers  without  intermission 
until  after  midnight,  when  a  strong  wind,  almost 
a  gale,  came  on  from  the  north-west  and 
(]uickly  blew  off  all  the  rain-clouds. 

On  the  following  morning  the  weather  was 
bright  and  cold,  with  the  north-west  wind  still 
blowing  hard.  Saunders  and  I  again  went  up 
the  river  and  into  the  country  to  the  south-west 
of  our  camp,  and  when  within  a  few  hundred 
yards  of  the  spot  where  I  shot  the  first  stag  on 
the  17th  I  suddenly  saw  a  doe  and  a  fawn 
jump  out  of  a  patch  of  forest  into  the  open 
marsh  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  yards  to  our 
left  and  a  little  behind  us.  As  my  companion 
and  I  were  also  in  the  open  ground  and  were 
moving,  they,  of  course,  at  once  saw  us  and 
stood  looking  towards  us. 

Whilst  watching  them  I  saw  another  doe  or 
very  young  stag  in  the  bush  behind,  and  imme- 
diately afterwards  a  great  stag  with  white  neck 
and  broadly  palmated  antlers  loomed  big 
amongst  the  dark  shadows  of  the  spruce  trees. 
The  doe  and  fawn  which  had  first  come  out 
into  the  open  now  commenced  to  trot  slowly 
forwards,  but  soon  stopped,  and  again  stood 
looking  at  the  strange  objects  which  had  alarmed 
them,  while  the  big  stag  with  its  smaller  com- 
panion came  trotting  slowly  in  their  tracks. 

The  old  stag 
looked  really 
grand,  and  I  lost 
no  time  in  firing 
at  him  as  he  was 
moving  across 
the  open,  marshy 
ground  about 
one  hundred  and 
fifty  yards  away 
from  me.  My 
cartridge,  how- 
ever, hung  fire 
for  some  time 
after  the  cap  ex- 
ploded, and  when 
the  shot  finally 
went  off  my  sight 
was  off  the  stag. 
The  report  of  the 
rifle,  however, 
did  not  appear 
to  disturb  him, 
for    he    never 


looked  louii'l  nor  altered  his  pace,  but  just 
kept  trotting  slowly  forwards.  I  lost  no 
time  in  liirowing  out  the  cartridge  which  had 
played  me  false,  and,  slipping  in  a  fresh  one, 
fired  again.  I  liis  time  my  bullet  sped  true, 
and  my  second-best  caribou  soon  lay  dead  on 
the  marsh.  He  proved  to  be  a  magnificent 
animal,  with  a  very  handsome  set  of  horns, 
carrying  thirty-five  good  points  and  two  doubt- 
ful ones,  with  very  large  double  interlocked 
brow  antlers  and  first-rate  tops,  the  whole 
forming  a  head  of  great  beauty  and  perfect 
symmetry. 

It  will  be  noticed  that  with  the  exception  of 
the  four  deer  which  I  had  last  seen,  and  which 
Saunders  pronounced  to  be  a  stag  and  a  doe 
with  two  fawns  of  this  and  last  year,  all  the 
caribou  I  had  observed  (with  the  e.xception  of  the 
does,  some  of  which  were  accompanied  by  a 
fawn)  were  solitary,  and  I  take  it  that  these 
animals,  in  the  southern  part  of  the  island  at 
any  rate,  are  accustomed  to  live  alone  during 
the  summer  and  early  autumn.  The  last  stag  I 
shot,  on  September  20th,  was  the  only  one  I  saw 
with  a  doe. 

In  the  spring,  when  the  snow  begins  to  melt, 
the  great  northward  migration  takes  place,  and 
it  is  generally  supposed,  I  believe,  that  all  the 
caribou  in  Newfoundland  cross  the  railway  line 
and  spend  the  summer  on  the  cool,  wind-swe])t 
barrens  in  the  northern  parts  of  the  island. 
This,  however,  I  feel  sure  is  a  mistake,  and  1 
am  c^uite  certain  that  a  good  many  of  these 
animals  pass  the  summer  in  the  country  in  which 
I  was  hunting  in  September,  igoi. 


J' rout  a\ 


IIOMP.WARO    IIOUNIl — THE   CANOES    I.OADINO    WITH    CARIHOU    HEADS   AND   MEAT. 


{Photo. 


462 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


The  evidence  in  support  of  this  is  overwhehn- 
ing.  I  found  summer  tracks  in  the  sandy  or 
muddy  ground  all  along  the  course  of  the  river 
I  followed,  and  also  round  the  shores  of  the 
lakes.  Besides  this,  I  came  across  numerous 
small  spruce  and  juniper  trees  which  had  been 
battered  all  to  pieces  by  stags  when  rubbing  the 
velvet  from  their  horns.  The  branches  of  some 
of  these  trees  had  been  freshly  broken  at  the 
end  of  the  summer  that  was  just  over,  but  the 
damage  done  to  others  had  been  inflicted  in 
previous  sea.sons. 

It  is  very  evident  that  caribou  stags  which 
clean  their  horns  in  the  country  round  St. 
John's  Lake  must  have  passed  the  summer  in 
the  neighbourhood.  Moreover,  both  Stroud  and 
Saunders,    who   have   spent   all   their   lives    in 


day  one  or  more  of  the  migration  paths  along 
which  these  animals  move  southwards  in  the 
autumn  ;  for  most  of  the  stags  with  fine  heads 
which  used  to  migrate  annually  to  the  northern 
parts  of  the  island  have  probably  been  picked 
out  whilst  returning  south  during  the  last  few 
years.  There  are  probably  a  good  many 
caribou  living  in  the  central  portions  of  the 
southern  {)art  of  the  island  which  are  never 
shot  at  at  all  unless  they  approach  the  fishing 
settlements  on  the  south  coast  in  the  winter.  It 
is  so  very  much  more  satisfactory  to  get  into  a 
country  where  no  one  else  is  hunting  than  to 
make  one  amongst  a  small  army  of  sportsmen 
congregated  in  a  narrow  area. 

Personally,    I   have  found    caribou    in    New- 
foundland very  easy  animals   to  approach  and 


-•^■■■tfl 


F> 


E&^ 


THK   CANOKS    AlM'HoACIIINf;    A    KAI'II)   ON    -IIIK     IKUKA    NOVA    RfVl 


M'lioto. 


Newloundland,  hunting,  trapping,  fishing,  and 
ratching  young  wild  geese,  both  [jositivuly  assert 
that  a  large  number  of  caribou  remain  in  the 
south  of  the  island  all  the  year  round,  never 
crossing  the  railway  line,  though  they  move 
backwarils  and  forwards  through  the  vast  un- 
trodden solitudes  to  the  south  of  that  point. 

My  advice  to  sportsmen  in  search  of  good 
heads  is  to  try  and  get  into  the  interior  of 
the  country  to  the  south  of  the  railway  line, 
and  hunt  round  after  caribou,  rather  than  to 
camp  on   the  railway  line  and  watch  day  after 


kill  ;  in  fact,  I  look  upon  them  as  the  very 
easiest  to  stalk  of  all  the  wild  animals  I  have 
yet  encountered.  The  wiiid  must,  of  course, 
be  studied  ;  but,  this  being  right,  there  is  little 
difficulty  in  approaching  to  within  easy  range  of 
them.  Any  small-bore  rifle  carrying  a  bullet 
which  expands  on  impact  but  does  not  break 
up — a  -303  bore,  taking  the  (iovernment  "  Duni- 
Dum  "  bullet,  for  example — will  be  found  to  be 
an  excellent  weapon  for  caribou. 

With  the  death   of  the  stag  which  I  killed  011 
September  20th    my  liuiiting  came   to  an  end. 


AFTER     UOODLAXD    TARTHOU     IX     Xl.W  lOLX  1  )I,AND. 


463 


for  he  made  the  fifth  and  last  caribou  stag  tliat 
I  was  entitled  to  kill  by  the  ternis  of  my  license. 
Besides  the  five  stags  I  was  certainly  legally 
entitled  to  shoot  two  does,  but,  of  course,  as  I 
did  not  want  their  meat,  I  had  no  wish  to  avail 
myself  of  this  privilege.  The  greater  part  of  the 
meat  of  the  five  stags  was,  I  am  sorry  to  say, 
unavoidably  wasted.  \\'c  always  carried  the 
best  of  it  to  camp,  and  hung  it  up  in  the  hope 
that  Indians  might  visit  us,  but  they  never  did. 
All  we  could  do,  tlierefore,  was  to  eat  as  much 
of  it  as  we  could  ourselves. 

^^'e  brought  away  with  us  ihc  hides,  all  the 
i:\t,  and  as  much  meat  as  the  canoes  would  carry 
when  all  our  other  belongings  were  on  board. 
Two  of  the  hides  we  sewed  together  and  lashed 
under  the  Acme  folding  canoe,  in  order  to  pre- 
serve the  canvas  from  damage  by  friction  against 
the  rocks  whilst  descending  the  numerous  rapids 
in  the  Terra  Nova  River. 

Of  my  return  journey  there  is  nothing  of 
interest  to  recount.  The  weather  was  fine,  and 
we  found  the  water  in  the  lakes  and  rivers  we 
had  to  descend  at  least  a  foot  higher  than  it 
had  been  in  the  early  days  of  September,  after 
the  long  summer  drought.  I  finally  reached 
St.  John's  on  September  24th,  and  returned 
home  in  the  good  ship  Carthaginian,  which 
started  for  Glasgow  two  days  later. 

I  think  I  never  enjoyed  an  outing  more  than 


my  last  little  trip  to  Xewfoundland.  I  got  off 
the  beaten  track,  found  plenty  of  caribou,  and 
of  the  five  stags  I  shot  two  carried  very  fine 
heads  and  two  others  very  fair  ones,  the  fifth 
being  a  small  one.  The  wild,  primeval  desola- 
tion of  the  country  and  the  vast,  voiceless 
solitudes — where  the  silence  is  never  broken 
save  by  the  cry  of  some  wild  creature — have  an 
inexpressible  charm  all  their  own.  You  feel 
that  you  stand  on  a  portion  of  the  earth's 
surface  which  has  known  no  change  for  count- 
less centuries,  a  land  which  may  remain  in  its 
natural  condition  for  centuries  yet  to  come.  The 
one  danger  lies  in  its  spruce  forests.  The  trees 
composing  these  are  small,  and  of  little  use  for 
timber ;  but  they  may  be  found  valuable  for 
pulp  and  paper  -  making.  If  not,  there  is 
nothing  else,  I  believe,  in  its  bogs  and  ponds 
and  barrens  to  tempt  the  cupidity  of  civilized 
man. 

I  cannot  close  this  article  without  saying  a 
word  for  the  two  men  who  accompanied  me  on 
my  last  trip.  Their  names  are  Robert  Saunders 
and  John  Wells,  and  the  permanent  address  of 
both  is  Alexander  Bay,  Bona  Vista  Bay,  New- 
foundland. Better  tempered,  more  cheerful, 
hardworking,  and  willing  men  I  have  never  met, 
and  I  can  most  confidently  recommend  their 
services  to  anyone  who  wishes  to  travel  or  hunt 
caribou  in  Newfoundland. 


J-'roiii  a\  1  hi: 


AM)    UHl.l 


1  l.K    .NEGOTIA  11  M,    A 


[Plwla. 


The  War  on   the   Skeena. 


By  Roger  Pocock. 

The  Indians  of  the  Skeena  River  were  deeply  incensed  at  the  shooting  of  one  of  their  number 
by  a  policeman.  They  announced  that  by  way  of  revenge  they  would  kill  the  first  white  man  who 
went  to  a  certain  village.  The  missionary,  who  was  on  furlough,  flatly  refused  to  return,  and  the 
author  volunteered  to  take  his  place.  Mr.  Pocock  describes  v/hat  happened  when  he  arrived  at  the 
village,  and  how  the  fearless  courage  of  a  magistrate  averted  what  might  have  been  a  serious  rising. 


'^M.W 


AR  on  the  Skeena  ! "  The  moment 
1  heard  the  news  I  got  a  friend  to 
write  out  a  telegram  offering  my 
services  to  the  Monireal  Witness 
as  a  war  correspondent  "  at  the 
front."  '•  All  right,"  replied  the  Witiiess,  laconi- 
cally ;  "expenses  limited  twenty  pounds." 

I  was  in  hospital  at  Kamloops,  in  British 
Columbia,  at  the  time,  suffering  from  a  severe 
di.sagreement  with  a  horse,  half  crazy  with  pain, 
and  badly  in  need  of  a  change.  Of  course, 
being  now  a  full-fledged  war 
correspondent,  it  would  be 
ridiculous  for  me  to  linger 
any  more  in  hospital,  so  I 
cleared  out  and  asked  for 
directions  to  the  Skeena. 
Nobody  had  ever  heard  of 
the  place,  or  who  was  fight- 
ing, or  what  the  war  was 
about,  but  on  searching  an 
atlas  I  found  that  the  Skeena 
was  a  river  away  up  north 
near  Alaska,  in  a  part  of 
the  map  scrawled  over  "  un- 
explored." The  distance  was 
one  thousand  miles. 

Taking  the  first  train  to 
Vancouver,  and  the  earliest 
steamer  bound  northward  up 
the  I'acific  Coast,  in  eight 
3ays  I  reached  the  mouth 
of  the  Skeena,  which  is  a 
black  tide-sluice  a  couple  of 
miles  broad  winding  between 
enormous  mountain  walls.  In  the  anchorage 
lay  a  cruiser  and  in  the  woods  a  battery  of 
Canadian  artillery,  both  of  them  hopelessly 
stuck  for  want  of  wings.  The  land  was  an 
impenetrable  jungle,  the  river  a  tumultuous 
rapid,  and  neither  soldiers  nor  sailors  could 
get  within  a  hundred  and  sixty  miles  of  the 
scene  of  the  trouble.  There,  in  tiie  heart 
of  the  wilderness,  twenty  -  five  white  people 
were  holding  out  against  four  thousand 
savages,  while  twenty-seven  special  constables 
in  a  mortal  funk  were  hastening  by  canoe  to  the 
rescue.     Let  me  now  relate  the  cause  of  the 


THE    AUTHOR,    MR. 

From  a  Photo,  by  \V. 


trouble  and  how  the  war  correspondent  turned 
missionary. 

Up  to  that  time  (1888)  the  Gaetkshian  and 
Nishgar  tribes  had  never  heard  of  the  Province, 
the  Dominion,  or  the  Em[)ire  wherein  they  lived. 
They  had  never  even  heard  of  the  Go\ernment. 
With  the  whites  they  were  well  acquainted ; 
knew  at  least  thirty  specimens  in  a  district  the 
size  of  France,  and  perhaps  as  many  more 
down  on  the  coast — a  small  tribe  with  a  deplor- 
able mania  for  preaching,  a 
taste  for  shopkeeping,  and 
a  rabid  hunger  for  gold. 
'J'he  chief  of  this  white  tribe 
they  knew  well  by  name — 
King  George,  and  next  to 
him  in  importance  was 
Charley  Clifford,  who  kept 
the  Hudson's  Bay  store  at 
tlie  Forks  of  Skeena. 

In  the  autumn  of  1887 
this  gentleman  took  to  evil 
courses.  He  sold  measles  to 
the  Gaetkshians  mixed  up 
with  his  iirown  sugar  !  I 
have  this  on  the  authority  of 
the  medicine-men  who  knew 
all  about  it,  and  saw  him 
mixing  the  measles  with  the 
sugar,  which  he  sold  as  prime 
Demerara.  Two  hundred 
and  forty  Indians  died,  hut 
not  a  single  white,  which  was 
clear  proof,  of  course,  of 
Charley  Clifford's  guilt.  Then  the  medicine- 
men advised  their  laity,  just  by  way  of 
reasonatjle  precaution,  to  massacre  all  the 
whites. 

Of  course  the  whites  are  accustomed  to  that 
sort  of  thing,  and  in  any  savage  country  would 
get  quite  uneasy  if  they  heard  no  rumours  of 
impending  massacre.  They  would  ihiiik  there 
must  be  some  plot. 

lUit  on  top  of  the  usual  rumours  came  the 
lamenlal)le  tragedy  of  Gaetwinllhgul  Jim,  wliich 
brought  matters  to  a  dangerous  crisis.  Jim  was 
a  very  nice   Indian,  with  a  shrew  of  a  wife  and 


ROGER    I'OCOCK. 
Watson  Robertson. 


THE    WAR    OX    Tin:    SKEENA. 


465 


two  little  children.  The  family  tramped  for 
days  through  sujiping  snow  to  a  tribal  feast, 
where  most  of  the  people  had  nieasles,  and  all 
were  wringing  wet.  \\'hcn  the  children  died  of 
measles  Jim  blamed  the  Hudson's  Hay  Com- 
pany, but  Mrs.  Jim  accused  Nealth,  the  family 
medicine  -  man.  So  Jim  went  and  shot  the 
doctor,  and  Mrs.  Jim,  as  the  latter's  heiress, 
inherited  all  Nealth's  blankets.     She  scored. 


was  nagged  to  such  a  pitch  of  desperation  that 
he  no  longer  minded  being  killed,  when  a 
letter  arrived  from  the  coast.  The  letter  was 
from  Mr.  Todd,  Indian  agent,  advising  Jim  to 
surrender  and  take  his  trial.  Jim,  being  unable 
to  read,  was  hugely  pleased  at  receiving  a 
"strong  paper,"  and  concluded  that  it  was  to 
protect  him  from  the  police.  No  longer  afraid 
of  arrest  he  left  his  wife  and  went  for  a  holiday, 


JIM    WENT    AND    SHOT   THE    DOCTOR. 

Gaetwinlthgul  Jim  being  a  most  respectable 
man  and  a  model  husband,  ai"d  having  done 
the  correct  thing  as  regards  the  family  doctor, 
now  called  together  all  the  relations  and  friends 
of  the  lamented  Nealth,  appraised  their  losses 
by  their  bereavement,  and  came  down  hand- 
somely with  a  copper  shield  charged  with  the 
tribal  arms,  a  bale  of  blankets,  and  some  guns, 
all  of  which  he  pitched  down  a  hill  to  the 
assembled  mourners  After  the  scramble  their 
grief  was  quenched,  the  tribal  law  was  satisfied, 
and  everything  was  all  right. 

So  the  long  winter  passed,  the  five  months 
during  which  all  communication  is  barred  with 
the  outer  world,  but  when  the  ice  ran  in  the  river 
the  white  people— always  interfering  with  some- 
body— sent  a  message  seven  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  to  their  nearest  village,  and  imported  five 
policemen  to  arrest  Jim  of  the  (laelwinlihguls. 
So  Jim  and  Mrs.  Jim  turned  their  house  into  a 
fortress  and  declared  war  against  the  whites. 
Whereby  I'ne  shrew  had   Jim   all  to  herself,  and 

she  talked  him  silly.     Indeed,  the  poor  wretch 
Vol.  X.-59. 


travelling  down  from  Gaetwinlthgul 
to  the  river.  \\'hen  a  policeman 
came  and  arrested  him  at  Gaet- 
wangak  for  murder,  naturally  Jim 
thought  there  must  be  some  mistake. 
He  bolted,  and  the  white  man  shot  him  dead. 

The  Gaetkshians,  infuriated  by  this  outrage, 
assembled  upwards  of  six  hundred  men  with 
rifles  to  massacre  the  white  folks  at  the  Forks  of 
Skeena.  Those  who  knew  best  feared  most,  for 
the  tribes  of  this  region  are  always  dangerous. 

The  Gaetkshians,  massed  at  the  Forks  of 
Skeena,  expected  to  see  the  white  men  paralyzed 
with  fright,  and  they  were  greatly  annoyed  on 
finding  that  church  and  school,  trading  and 
loafing,  went  on  exactly  as  usual.  What  is  the 
use  of  killing  men  who  are  not  afraid  to  die  ? 

The  real  peril  came  from  outside,  when  the 
Indians  found  themselves  taken  quite  seriously 
by  the  whites  with  elaborate  preparations  for 
war.  The  arrival  of  a  warship,  a  battery,  and 
a  war  correspondent  at  the  mouth  of  their 
river  gave  them  an  inflamed  idea  of  their  own 
im[)ortancc,  and  they  all  had  swollen  heads 
when  they  saw  no  fewer  than  twenty- seven 
special  constables  arrive  at  the  Forks  to  throw 
u])  fortifications.  They  saw  that  the  white  men 
were  frightened. 


466 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


When  the  "  Fort  of  Refuge  "  was  finished 
the  missionary  and  his  wife,  invited  to  take 
shelter  within  the  walls,  strolled  down  to  inspect 
the  work.  "  What,"  said  the  missionary,  "  you 
don't  expect  my  wife  to  live  in  this  pig-sty  ! " 
'J'he  Indians  saw  the  two  stroll  back  arm  in  arm 
to  their  house,  an  act  of  unconscious  courage 
which  did  more  to  protect  the  settlement  than 
any  stockades  or  bastions.  This  brave  couple, 
strolling  arm  in  arm  along  the  ragged  edge  of 
1  )cath   were  watched  by  a  thousand  awe-struck 


and  on  learning  the  state  of  affairs  flatly  refused 
to  go  back  to  his  parish.  So  the  Anglican 
Diocesan  Synod  appointed  him  to  a  village  on 
the  coast,  and,  not  having  time  to  procure  a 
proper  person  from  England,  they  looked  about 
to  find  a  layman  to  hazard  Gaetwangak.  The 
laity  of  the  coast  were  not  likely  recruits,  sure 
to  corrupt  the  morals  of  the  natives,  and  much 
too  well  off  to  want  a  mission  stipend  of  only 
ten  pounds  a  month.  On  the  other  hand,  it 
was  no   use   appointing    an    inexperienced  but 


"the    INDIANS   SAW    THE  TWO   STKOLL    BACK   AKM    IN    ARM   TO   THF.IU    HOUSE. 


savages,  who  sent  word  throughout  the  valley 
that  the  whites  were  as  gods. 

Some  days  afterwards  Captain  Napoleon  I'itz 
Stubb.s,  the  magistrate,  came  alone  and  unarmed 
from  the  coast,  and  was  assailed  at  once  by  a 
volley  of  eager  questions  from  the  chiefs. 
"  What  on  earth,"  they  asked,  "  is  wrong  with 
tile  whites  ?     Are  they  going  to  break  out  ?  " 

"Get  to  your  villages,"  said  the  magistrate, 
"and  don't  make  fools  of  yourselves." 

"  All  right,"  answered  the  chiefs,  "  we're  only 
going  to  kill  one  white  man  in  return  for  Jim. 
Tlie  (iaetwinlthgiils  will  kill  one  man  on  liie 
spot  where  Jim  was  murdered,  the  first  white 
man  who  goes  to  Gaetwangak." 

Now  the  missionary  incumbent  at  Gaetwangak, 
being  absent  on  furlough,  had  married  a  wife, 


enthusiastic  youth  who  would  indulge  himself 
in  the  glories  of  martyrdom.  The  synod  was 
in  despair  of  finding  a  suit'-'  .e  locum  ieuc/is. 

I  was  away  at  the  lime  witn  an  Indian  family 
making  a  voyage  by  canoe  in  Alaskan  waters, 
but  when  I  came  back  stony-broke  in  the 
autumn,  still  keen  to  report  my  "  war  "  for  the 
Montreal  IViitiess,  I  was  instantly  grabbed  by 
that  despairing  synod  as  the  only  possible  candi- 
date for  the  vacant  post  at  (iactwangak.  For 
an  e.\-trooper  I  was  mild  of  speech  and,  being 
only  twenty-two  years  old,  preserved  some 
shreds  of  good  character.  Moreover,  I  pro- 
fessed a  lively  distaste  for  martyrdom,  and  had 
plenty  of  cheek.  I  was  solemnly  warned  as  to 
the  kind  intentions  of  the  Gaetwinlthguls,  and 
then  the  synod  i)iil  me  to  the  proof  by  making 
me  preach  in   Metlacahtla  Cathedral.     Getting 


11 


WAR    OX    Till'    SKi:i:\.\. 


467 


killed  was  a  joke  compared  wiih  ihat  ordeal, 
and  I  still  go  cold  with  liorror  when  I  think  of 
my  first  ap[)earance  in  the  pulpit.  But  they 
decided  to  send  me  up  the  river. 

Winter  was  closing  in  when,  after  outfitting 
at  the  Forks  of  Skeena,  I  dropped  down  the 
river  again  with  six  months'  provisions  in  ^ 
canoe.  My  village  of  (luetwangak  lay  thirty 
winding  miles  below  the  Forks. 

The  houses  are  built  of  massive  timber,  like 
barns,  their  low-pitched  gables  fronting  upon  the 
river  and  guarded  by  lofty  cedar  trunks  carved 
from  base  to  summit  with  heraldic  beasts. 
Within,  the  barns 
hold  several  families 
each  camped  on 
their  own  part  of  the 
tloor,  and  in  the 
midst,  under  the 
smoke  ■  hole,  burns 
the  log-fire,  which 
is  never  allowed  to 
die  out,  smouldering 
from  generation  to 
generation.  Two 
miles  away  up  the 
river  was  the  place 
of  the  Tumbling 
Waters,  with  the 
comfortable  log- 
house  of  the  mis- 
sion and  a  cluster 
of  cottages  for  four 
convert  families. 

Every  morning  I 
tramped  to  the  vil- 
lage to  visit  the  sick, 
then  rounded  up  my 
congregation  either 
for  church  or  school. 
Every  day,  too,  the 
medicine  -  man  sat 
on  his  roof  to  curse 
me  as  I  passed  and 
lavish  imprecations 
on  the  children,  and 
no  evening  went  by 
without  a  fresh 
rumour  as  to  my  im[)ending  death.  Lonely  and 
scared,  I  buried  my  revolver,  lest  it  should 
tempt  me  to  a  display  of  feeling.  It  is 
beneath  the  white  man's  dignity  to  depend  on 
wea[)ons  as  though  he  were  afraitl. 

Now,  Captain  Fit/.Stubbs,  as  magistrate,  had 
orders  to  visit  the  several  tribes,  making  procla- 
mation thai  the  Indian  law  was  dead,  antl  that 
the  white  man's  law  had  taken  its  place.  Last 
of  all  became  to  my  village,  camped  in  the  school- 
house,   arranged    for  a  council,  atid  sent  an  old 


THE   medicine-Man   sat  on    his   roof 

TO   CUKSE    me   as    1    I'ASSEU." 


woman  with  a  letter  asking  me  to  attend.  He 
had  just  engaged  a  new  interpreter,  a  Mission 
Indian,  a  vociferous  expert  at  praying.  This 
ingenious  person  waited  until  tlie  tribe  had 
gathered  in  the  chief's  house,  to  the  number  of 
two  hundred  and  fifty,  the  men  all  armed,  but 
with  their  weapons  hidden,  and  all  arrangements 
quite  complete  to  kill  the  magistrate  and  myself 
as  an  act  of  justice,  avenging  the  Gaetwinlthguls 
for  the  murder  of  Jim  in  their  village,  and  then 
he  came  to  the  school-house  and  told  us  that 
everything  was  all  right. 

We  entered   the  council    hall   together.     We 

found  the  great 
ceremonial  fire 
burning  in  the  midst 
of  the  house,  casting 
flickering  crimson 
lights  upon  the 
smoke-blackened 
rafters  over  -  head 
and  on  the  faces  of 
the  people  massed 
against  the  shadowy 
darkness  of  the 
walls.  Facing  the 
fire  at  the  far  end, 
in  the  chief  s  place, 
a  chair  and  table 
were  set  for  the 
magistrate,  and  on 
his  right,  at  some 
distance,  a  soap-box  was  placed  for 
me. 

The  captain,  through  his  inter- 
preter, spoke  cheerfully  as  to  the 
recent  troubles,  the  frequent  killing 
of  men  in  the  valley,  the  foolishness 
of  blood  -  feuds,  and  the  mighty 
''  strength   of  the    British  power  which 

now  commanded  their  allegiance. 
The  chief,   (iillawa,   replied.      He 
was  a   yoimg,  powerful,  manly  chap,  frankly 
contemptuous.     The    Indian    law  was   very 
good,  he  said,  and  had  lasted  as  long  as  the 
mountains  whose  great  white  spires  went  up 
above  our  heads.     The  white  man's  law  was 
new,  feeble  as  a  baby,  too  weak  to  govern 
even  the  little  children.     Let  the  white  man  go 
back  to  the  salt  water,  and  take  his  law  with 
him,  for  fear  of  its  getting  hurt. 

The  people  were  silent,  the  light  of  the  flames 
uleamini:  on  their  eves.  Sometimes  a  councillor 
would  get  up  and  speak  for  a  while,  and  then 
woukl  come  dead,  breathless  silence.  I  sat  in 
my  place,  my  nerves  strung  up,  ready  to  spring 
to  the  magistrate's  side.  If  the  worst  came  to 
the  worst,  we  could  get  back  to  back  and  die 
that  way. 


468 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


At  last  a  young  man  rose,  who  spoke  at 
length,  crouching  down  meanwhile,  and  creep- 
ing slowly  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  magistrate 
until  he  was  well  within  reach.  Then  shouting, 
he  flashed  a  long  knife  from  under  his  blanket, 
and  brandishing  the  firelit  blade  pretended 
to  strike.  Then  he  drew  back  and,  yelling, 
rushed  forward  again,  standing  over  the  captain 
while  he  struck  to  within   an   inch   of  his   ribs. 


pletely  cowed.  One  speaker  after  another  rose 
up,  attempted  to  face  the  white  man's  steady 
eyes,  talked  himself  out,  and  retired  impotent. 
At  last  the  captain,  yawning,  turned  to  me. 
"  Come,  Pocock,"  he  said,  "  I'm  sick  of  this. 
Let's  go." 

We  walked  out  of  the  house,  where  we  had 
been  so  near,  so  very  near,  to  death.  The  sun 
was  setting  in  glory  over  the  great  white  Alps. 


"Hi.  blKUCK    TO   WITHIN    AN    INCH    OK    HIS    RIBS." 


Again  and  again  he  ruslied  up,  and  made  ready 
tf)  strike,  only  to  fall  i).n  k,  working  up  an  ecstasy 
of  passion  befcjrc  the  final  blow. 

"I'm  an  old  man,  unarmed,"  said  the  captain, 
gently,  "an  old  man  with  white  hair,  and  I  have 
not  long  to  live."  He  laughed  as  the  knife 
came  close  to  his  ribs.  "  You  seem  to  be 
young  and  strong,"  he  continued  -  then  raising 
his  voice — "You  infernal  coward!  Are  you 
afraid  to  strike  ?  " 

The  Indian  fell  back  astounded.  He  went 
muttering  back  to  his  place  and  sat  silent,  com- 


"  Stuffy  in  there,  wasn't  it?"  said  the  old 
magistrate,  coolly.  "  \\'l11,  good-bye.  I'm  off 
to  the  I'orks." 

"  Won't  you  stay  for  the  night?'  I  said  ;  for  I 
did  not  like  the  idea  of  remaining  there  alone. 

"No,  thanks,"  said  the  captain,  "but  we'll 
have  a  long  smoke  next  time  you're  up  at  the 
Forks."  He  stepped  into  his  canoi;  and  was 
gone. 

And  so  endc-d  the  trouble  on  the  Skeena — 
ended  by  the  matchless  nerve  of  the  old 
magistrate. 


// 


Jhs  Jlout  of  the  ''Jorsign  S'evils. 

By  B.  J.  Hyde. 

This  curious  and    exciting   adventure  was    related   to    the    author    by   Mr.     Erie    Salambo,    a    well- 
known    music-hall    artist.      A    too    realistic    entertainment    roused    the    superstitious    fears  of    the 
Chinese  spectators,  and   the  "  foreign   devils  "  barely  escaped  with  their  lives. 


X  1888  I  was  in  Shanghai,  and  Sing 
Loo,  the  enterprising  manager  of 
the  Chinese  theatre  there,  came  and 
offered  me  a  two  nights'  special 
engagement,  to  take  part  in  a 
Chinese  play  that  he  was  then  running. 

Now,  a  Chinese  play  is  a  tedious  affair  accord- 
ing to  our  Western  notions,  sometimes  running 
on  night  after  night  for  eight  or  nine  consecutive 
weeks  before  the  curtain  finally  descends  upon 
the  last  scene  !  The  dialogue  is  written  up  as 
the  plot  "  homeward  wends  its  weary  way." 

With  a  fresh  part  to  study  for  each  night, 
the  life  of  a  Chinese  artist  can  scarcely  be  one 
of  unalloyed  bliss. 

This    particular  play    had   been    running    for 


about  three  weeks,  and  in  the  course  of  its 
meanderings  the  principal  actors  were  forced  to 
make  a  two  nights'  sojourn  in  the  lower  regions. 
It  was  to  lend  a  realistic  effect  to  these  two 
nights  that  I  was  engaged. 

At  the  time  I  had  a  sketch  entitled  "  Hades," 
the  scenery  of  which  was  supposed  to  represent 
the  lower  regions.  The  "  show  "  consisted  of 
fire-blowing  and  electrical  effects,  the  former 
predominating.  Weird  little  flaming  imps  were 
made  to  appear  unexpectedly  from  fantastic  jars, 
and  my  wife—  then  "  Aliss  Olivette  " — and  myself 
(dressed  as  Mephistopheles)  blew  sheets  of  flame 
eight  feet  long  from  our  lips  across  the  stage. 

An  ominous  silence  greeted  our  performance, 
and    the    entire  theatrical   company   came   and 


i^: 


"a    I.AK<;e    K.MFE   CAME    WHU/ING    ACROSS   THE    STAGE.' 


470 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


stood  at  one  side  of  the  wings,  watching  us  with 
suspicious  and  scowhng  faces. 

Suddenly,  without  any  warning,  a  large  knife 
came  whizzing  across  fhe  stage.  Believing  it  to 
have  been  an  accident,  however,  we  continued 
our  performance.  We  were  soon  undeceived. 
"Miss  Olivette's"  brother,  who  was  with  us 
acting  as  our  Chinese  interpreter,  suddenly 
shouted  to  us  to  run  for 
our  lives,  as  the  audience 
and  actors  mistook  us  for 
real  demons  !  Devils  and 
malignant  spirits  play  a 
large  part  in  the  daily  life 
of  the  Chinese,  and  our 
shosv  had  been  too  much 
for  their  superstitious 
minds. 


baskets,  and  the  usual  stage  paraphernalia,  and 
so  out  into  the  street.  Here  we  paused — as 
well  we  might — for  our  make  -  up  was  hardly 
suitable  for  the  public  street. 

Everything  had  happened  so  quickly,  and 
without  the  slightest  warning,  that  even  now  we 
hardly  realized  our  danger  till  the  mob  poured 
out   from  the  stage-door  behind  us  and  com- 


WE   TURNED    AND    KAN    FOR   OUR    LIVES. 


AVc  hesitated  at  the  warning,  not  knowing 
fjuite  what  was  the  matter,  till  a  couple  of 
revolver  shots  rang  out  and  a  perfect  hail  of 
knives  stormed  on  to  the  stage  around  us. 

Tiien  we  made  a  dash  for  the  only  exit,  which 
we  succeeded  in  gaining  unhurt,  while  the 
Chinese  actors  rushed  yelling  across  the  stage 
in  pursuit.  The  exit,  fortunately,  was  narrow, 
and  wc  gained  time  whilst  they  scrambled 
through. 

Down  a  long  room  we  sped,  and  then  along 
a  narrow  passage,     half    choked    with  scenery. 


nienced  firing  and  throwing  knives  at  us  again. 
One  unlucky  bullet  struck  "Miss  Olivette"  in 
the  foreliead,  but  fortunately  glanced  off. 

We  turned  and  ran  for  our  lives  towards  tlie 
I''.uropean  (juarter,  pursued  by  as  outlandish- 
looking  a  crew  of  monsters  as  ever  man  con- 
junvl  up  in  his  wildest  nightmare. 

Like  ourselves,  many  of  our  pursuers  were  in 
their  stage  costumes — and  the  theatrical  rig  of 
the  "heathen  Chinee"  is  distinctly  "peculiar." 
Nearly  all  the  actors  wore  weird  masks,  and 
many  of   them   the  enormous  grotesque  heads 


THE    ROUT    OF    THE    "FOREIGN    1)E\TLS." 


471 


that  we  were  wont  as  children  to  gaze  at  with         saw    something   was    wrong,    and    ran    lo    our 
such  awe  across  the  footUghts  of  a  Christmas         assistance  just  as  the  crowd  closed  on  us. 
pantomime.     Had  we  not    been  flying  for  our  The   bullets  were   being   better  aimed  now. 


lives  I  have  no 
doubt  the  spectacle 
would  have  been 
most  ludicrous  to 
b  e  h  o  1  d  ^  t  w  0 
M  e  p  h  i  s  t  o  p  h  e  1  i  a  n 
figures  fleeing  from 
a  host  of  gri  m, 
truculent  ogres 
and  dragons  that 
howled  blood-curd- 
ling threats  and 
weird  Mongolian 
menaces  from  the 
cavernous  recesses 
of  their  monstrous 
headpieces,  and 
belched  genuine 
death  -  dealing  fire 
and  smoke  in  the 
shape  of  revolver 
shots. 

Encumbered  as 
most  of  them  were 
with  their  para- 
phernalia, we  were 
fast  outdistancing 
our  pursuers,  when 
an  unfortunate  shot 
struck  "Miss  Oli- 
vette "  in  the  leg 
and  brought  her 
to  the  ground.  1 
raised  her  in  my 
arms  and  hurried 
on  again  as  fast  as 
possible,  her  brother 
well  as  he  could. 

The  crowd  now   began    to  gain   on   us    fast, 
when  we  espied  a  group  of  police  ahead.     They 


MR.    ERLE   SALAMUO    AND     "MISS     OLIVETTE'     "FIRE     BLOWING" — ONE    OK 
THE   FEATS   THAT   CONVINCED    THE   CHINESE   THAT   THEY   WERE    DEMONS. 

From  a  Photo. 


covering 


our   retreat   as 


not  think 
for  a   real 


I  shall 
demon. 


ever 
It 


and  how  we 
escaped  without 
further  injury  is  a 
marvel,  for  my  long 
flowing  cape  was 
literally  riddled  with 
bullet  holes. 

It  was  a  neck- 
and-neck  race,  but 
the  police  won, 
and  hustled  us 
into  a  house  close 
by.  They  had  the 
greatest  ditficulty 
in  preventing  the 
frantic  mob  from 
setting  fire  to  the 
rickety  little 
wooden  shanty,  but 
eventually,  with  the 
assistance  of  re- 
inforcements which 
presently  came  up, 
the  crowd  was 
driven  off,  when 
"Miss  Olivette" 
was  conveyed 
under  escort  to  the 
hospital.  Fortu- 
nately the  wounds 
turned  out  not  so 
serious  as  we  had 
feared  at  first,  and 
\vc  were  soon  able 
to  resume  our 
travels.  But  I  do 
forget  being  mistaken 
was    a    compliment   in 


a  way,    but    the   Chinese   way  of   being   com- 
plimentary is  too  exciting  for  me. 


Carried    Away   on    the    Ice. 


Bv  Mrs.  Harold  Tremayne. 

The    terrible  experience    which    befell   a  Canadian    clergyman    and   his   wife.     Whilst  they  were  cross- 
ing  the   "ice-bridge"  over   the  St.  Lawrence  the   frozen   masses  gave    way,  and   the  unfortunate    pair 
went  drifting  down  the  river  on  a  small  ice-floe  to  what  appeared  certain  death. 


J^^ 


hi;  rev.  MR.  ARMSTRONG  and 
his  family  were  deservedly  popular 
and  very  highly  respected  in  Point 
Levis,  where  he  had  the  charge  of  a 
small  church — small,  as  not  many  of 
the  inhabitants  were  Protestants.  Point  Levis, 
just  opposite  Quebec,  is  a  picturesque  town 
perched  on  a  high  hill,  and  seems  to  look  with 
a  certain  amount  of  defiance  at  her  rival  across 
the  river.  It  is  an  important  place,  having  been 
for  years,  till  the  North  Shore  Railway  was  built, 


Before  doing  so,  however,  I  must  give  a  short 
description  of  the  ice-bridge  between  Quebec 
and  Point  Levis.  The  ice-bridge  over  the 
River  St.  Lawrence  is  formed  in  two  ways. 
When  the  water  freezes  smoothly  over  it  is 
delightful  to  drive,  walk,  or  skate  over  the  bridge, 
but  when  it  "  takes  "  with  a  storm  in  progress, 
what  is  called  a  "  jam  "  bridge  is  formed,  and 
that  is  not  fit  for  skating,  nor  is  it  at  all  com- 
fortable to  walk  or  drive  on.  In  the  latter  case 
it  is  full  of  cakois,  which  have  a  kind  of  switch- 


l-roiii  a\ 


INK    iCTC-HKrOGE    AT   QUEBEC. 


[P/ioto. 


the  only  means  that  (Quebec  had  for  communi 
eating  either  with  cast  ux  west. 

The  tale  of  how  Mr.  Armstrong  and  his  wife 
were  carried  away  by  the  ice  was  told  me  so 
often  by  the  worthy  clergyman  that  I  cannot 
do  better  than  try  and  relate  it  in  his  own  words. 


back  effect  as  one  drives  over  them.  'I'he  bridge 
docs  noi  "  take  "  every  year — in  fact,now  that  the 
ferry  steamers,  built  with  the  idea  of  keeping 
the  river  clear,  ply  backwards  and  forwards,  even 
during  the  night,  in  very  frosty  weather,  it  is 
only  by  an  accident  that  the  river  freezes  at  all. 


CAkRll'.l)     AWAN'     ()\      IIII':     ICE. 


473 


Ik'fore  the  steamers  were  buiU,  however,  it 
was  very  iiiconveiiieiit  lor  the  inhabitants  of 
Quebec  when  there  was  no  ice  bridge.  As  1 
said  before,  they  could  only  start  for  either  the 
east  or  west  by  the  (Irand  Trunk  Railway  from 
I'oint  Levis,  and  to  cross  a  river  filled  with  huge, 
thick  pieces  of  lloating  ice  recjuired  no  little 
nerve.  Country  sup{)lies  were  cheaper  when 
the  bridge  ''  took,"  and  people,  both  in  ()uebec 
and  Point  Levis,  rejoiced  when  there  was  easy 
and  safe  communication  between  the  two  towns. 

It  was  a  fine  day  in  the  beginning  of  April 
when  Mr.  Armstrong  and  his  wife  started  from 
their  house.  Pine  Cliff,  Point  Levis,  to  cross  to 
Quebec.  I  will  try  to  tell  the  story  in  his  own  words. 

On  the  day  we  crossed,  or  attempted  to  cross, 
to  Quebec  we  had  been  invited  to  a  large 
banquet,  a  political  dinner.  We  left  Pine  Cliff 
aljout  noon.  The  day  was  beautiful,  with  just 
enough  frost  in  the  air  to  make  driving  agreeable. 
The  roads  leading  to  the  river,  however,  were 
absolutely  atrocious,  slushy  and  full  of  cahots, 
and  Robin,  our  old  nag,  was  rather  nervous. 
Once  he  nearly  fell  by.  putting  his  foot  in  a  hole 
in  the  snow  which  was  filled  with  slushy  water. 
I  had  to  drive  very  carefully — in  fact,  I  practi- 
cally led  the  horse  all  the  way  down  the  steep 
hill  towards  the  river.  On  the  w^ay  we  met  the 
cure,  and  stojjped  to  exclaim  at  the  badness  of 
the  roads. 

"  Are  you  not  going  to  the  dinner  to-night  ?" 
I  asked.     He  shook  his  head. 

"  I  am  afraid  to  risk  the  crossing,"  he  replied. 
"The  ice  is  not  very  good  now,  and  as  I  should 
have  to  return  late  at  night  I  have  given  u[)  the 
idea.  Surely  you  are  not  returning  to-night 
with  Mme.  Armstrong?  I  am  sure  it  would 
not  be  safe." 

We  smilingly  replied  "No,"  and  went  on. 
About  a  yard  or  two  farther  on  we  heard  his 
voice  again,  shouting  a  warning.  "  Pe  very 
careful,  there  are  several  nasty  places  in  the 
bridge,"  he  cried,  and  we  .said  we  would. 

Py  this  time  it  was  about  one  o'clock,  the 
state  of  the  roads  making  it  necessary  to  pro- 
ceed at  no  more  than  a  walking  pace.  Mrs. 
Armstrong  began  to  be  uneasy  as  to  the  time 
we  should  arrive.  \\'e  had  promised  to  be  in 
(Quebec  for  lunch  at  one,  and  it  was  already 
lunch  time  and  we  had  not  even  reached  the 
river.  1  hastened  to  reassure  my  wife,  but  she 
had  several  little  purchases  to  make  for  the 
evening  and  refused  to  be  consoled. 

"If  we  have  taken  so  long  to  gel  to  the 
river,  how  shall  we  ever  reach  (Quebec  in  time?" 
she  said.  "  \'ou  heard  what  the  cure  said  ;  I  do 
hope  there  will  be  no  accident  on  the  bridge." 

I  laughed  at  mv  wife's  fears  ;  how  often  had 

Vol.  X.-60. 


we  crossed  the  ice  ;  why,  we  had  made  hundreds 
of  journeys  during  the  twenty  years  that  had 
elapsed  since  we  left  •' Auld  Scotia"  to  find  a 
home  so  many  thousand  miles  away.  I  tried 
to  comfort  her,  and  at  last  she  was  quite  ht;rselt 
again.  Py  this  time  we  had  arrived  at  the  river, 
and  1  drove  carefully  down  to  the  ice,  which 
was  certainly  very  slushy.  The  poor  horse  was 
uj)  to  his  ankles  in  water  all  the  time,  and  seemed 
anything  but  happy;  to  tell  you  the  truth,  by 
this  time  I  was  anything  but  happy  myself. 
On  looking  across  I  could  only  distinguish  one 
cariole  ra[)idly  nearing  the  opposite  shore. 
There  were  also  a  few  [)edestrians  in  the  dis- 
tance, all  on  the  Quebec  side.  I  tried  to  appear 
cheerful,  but  it  was  with  a  heart  full  of  mis- 
givings that  I  began  our  crossing.  Splash, 
splash  went  the  horse's  hoofs  in  the  wretchedly 
cold  water.  "  Marche  do?ic,"  I  cried,  and  poor 
Robin  tried  his  best  to  go  quicker,  but  in  vain  ; 
he  could  do  no  more  than  crawl.  The  unfortunate 
beast  must,  I  think  now,  have  had  some  sort 
of  premonition  of  what  was  going  to  happen. 
Slowly  we  proceeded  :  splash,  spLash,  bump, 
bump,  over  those  horrible  cahots.  "  Would  we 
ever  get  to  the  opposite  shore  ?  "  I  thought.  My 
wife  by  this  time  was  quite  cheerful  again  ;  she 
chatted  about  the  evening's  pleasure,  and  was 
absolutely  unconscious  of  any  danger.  I  was 
only  too  thankful  for  this,  for  if  we  had 
to  suffer,  the  longer  she  was  in  ignorance  of  our 
probable  fate  the  better,  and  1  tried  to  reply 
quite  calmly  to  her  remarks.  Suddenly  my 
blood  ran  cold  ;  I  had  seen  a  few  yards  from  us 
a  rift  in  the  ice.  "On,  on,  good  horse,"  I 
murmured  under  my  breath,  "  Save  us  from  a 
horrible  death." 

The  rift  seemed  to  come  nearer  and  nearer. 
I  glanced  at  my  wife,  but,  happily  still  uncon- 
scious of  the  terrible  fate  we  were  likely  to  meet, 
she  was  laughingly  teasing  me  about  the  speed 
of  our  poor  steed,  who  by  this  time  was  abso- 
lutely overcome  by  the  fear  of  some  approaching 
danger.  I  tried  to  answer  her,  but  my  lips  were 
trembling  and  my  tongue  felt  too  parched  to 
utter  a  word.     She  turned  suddenly  to  me. 

"  What  is  the  matter?  ''  she  cried  ;  "  are  you 
angry?"  but  the  words  died  on  her  lips,  for  she 
told  me  afterwards  my  face  was  livid,  and  just 
at  that  ni( uncut  we  heard  a  sound  as  if  artillery 
were  booming  around  us.  The  cariole  ga\e  a 
suilden  jerk  and  nearly  slipped,  but  with  a 
supreme  effort  Robin  dragged  it  out  of  the  water 
which  was  circling  round  us.  It  was  a  most 
terrible  moment.  The  ice-bridge  had  broken 
up  I 

We  were  left  stranded  on  a  piece  of  ice  not 
nunh  larger  than  the  cariole.  I  l<joked  at  my 
l>oor   wife,  she  was  deathly  white,   but    in   this 


474 


llli:     \\li)j;     WOKLI)     MAUAZIXK. 


moment  of  awful  danger  her  splendid  courage 
reasserted  itself.  What  could  we  do?  Nothing 
at  all,  save  allow  ourselves  to  drift.  If  we  were 
not  rescued  in  time,  and  the  piec-e  of  ice  did 
not  break,  which  was  improbable,  then  it  might 


We  had  not  spoken  for  several  minutes,  but 
I  felt  that  my  dear  wife  must  be  told  of  our 
probable  fate.  It  was  one  of  the  most  terrible 
moments  of  my  life  when  I  had  to  say  to  the 
woman  who  for  over  twenty  years  had  been  my 
devoted  helpmate  that  there  was 
practically  no  hope.  She  was 
gazing   round    in  every  direction. 


'mii^' 


M 


"with    a    SUI'KEMK    EFKOKT    KOBIN    DKAGGED    IT   OUT   OF    THE   WATER." 


be  our  fate  to  be   carried   after   several   days' 
misery  right  to  the  Oulf. 

I  looked  around.  'I'here  was  nothing  to  be 
seen  but  [jieces  of  ice  floating  about  us,  some 
of  which  every  now  and  then  collided  with  our 
fragment  and  nearly  precipitated  the  cariole  into 
the  water,  which  seemed  to  seethe  from  the 
shfjck  of  the  sudden  break-U[).  I'here  was 
nothing  to  be  done.  If  we  were  fortunate 
enough  to  be  carried  near  the  south  shore, 
where  the  current  seemed  likely  to  take  us, 
there  was  a  chance  of  our  being  rescued  by 
some  of  the  inhabitants,  yet  that  was  almost 
impossible.  How  could  any  boat  put  out  from 
the  shore  with  ma.sses  of  ice  several  feet  deep 
crowding  the  river?  It  would  be  crushed  to 
atoms  and  more  lives  lost.  Xo,  all  that  remained 
for  us  was  to  prepare  for  death. 


frantically  clutching  at  the  sides  of  the  cariole 
whenever  we  collided  with  a  floe. 

"Janet,"  I  said,  "do  you  know  we  are  in 
great  danger?" 

"Yes,"  she  replied,  softly,  almost  in  a 
whisper. 

"  1  can  see  no  way  of  escape,"  I  went  on. 
"  Nothing  short  of  a  miracle  can  save  us.  Oh  ! 
my  dear  wife,  that  I  should  be  the  one  to  bring 
you  into  this  awful  danger !  " 

She  looked  U|)  with  one  of  her  sweet  smiles. 
"  Dan,"  she  said,  "  I  am  only  too  thankful 
that  I  am  with  you.  I  do  not  mind  our  dying 
together  ;  the  only  thing  that  is  making  me  un- 
happy is  the  th(jught  of  the  children."  Here 
her  voice  broke,  and  I  hcartl  the  sound  of 
suppressed  sobs. 

I    could    not    speak   either.     My    eyes    were 


c'ARkii.n   Aw.w    ON    nil.    ici-: 


475 


filled  with  tears  and  my  hcail  with  anguish  as  1 
ihought  of  our  children,  happily  unconscious  of 
their  poor  parents'  fate.  I  had  not  long  to 
indulge  in  vain  regrets,  however,  for  a  larger 
piece  of  ice  than  we  had  before  encountered 
dashed  against  us,  and  all  but  swamped  us. 
Then  I  saw  that  there  was  only  one  thing  to  be 
done  —  that  was  to  sacrifice  Robin,  whose 
weight  threatened  to  destroy  us.  Already  our 
piece  of  ice  was  getting  deeper  in  the  water. 
It  was  a  terrible  thing  to  do,  but  I  had  no 
alternative.  My  wife  was  not  strong  enough 
to  lie  on  the  snow,  and  I  must  try  to  keep  the 
cariole  for  her,  so  overboard  the  poor  horse 
must  go.  I  am  not  ashamed  to  say  that  tears 
flowed  down  my  cheeks  as  I  loosened  his 
harness  for  the  last  time.  1  suppose  1  was  a 
fool,  but  before  pushing  him  over  into  the  icy 
waters  I  whispered  in  his  ear,  "  1  would  not  do 
this  to  save  my  own  life,  but  it  is  for  your 
mistress."  Then  1  shut  my  eyes.  I  could  not 
bear  to  see  him  drown. 

Fortunately   my   wife   by   tliis   time  was   in  a 


someone  might  be  near,  but  there  was  no  one  to 
be  seen,  A  little  lower  down,  when  we  were  not 
more  than  two  or  three  hundred  yards  from  the 
shore,  I  saw  a  man  standing  there,  and  waved 
frantically  to  him,  but  he  evidently  thought 
"discretion  the  better  part  of  valour,"  and 
though  he  saw  us  could  or  would  do  nothing 
to  help  us. 

Down,  down  we  floated,  sometimes  fast, 
sometimes  slowly,  and  occasionally  we  came  to 
a  complete  standstill.  I  gazed  round  at  the 
other  pieces  of  ice,  when  we  were  stationary, 
HI  a  wild  hope  of  being  able  to  walk  ashore, 
but  it  was  absolutely  impossible. 

We  had  by  this  time  reached  the  Island  (jf 
Orleans,  where  the  river  is  narrower,  and  here 
1  hoped  that  the  looked-for  help  might  be  found. 
But  to  my  horror  we  began  to  move  much  more 
swiftly  down  the  stream,  and  our  piece  of  ice 
still  seemed  to  be  getting  deeper  in  the  water, 
which  reached  the  interior  of  the  cariole. 
There  was  no  help  for  it,  we  must  let  the  cariole 
follow  poor  Robin.     Hastily  arousing  my  wife, 


I    COl'I.I)    NOT    HEAR    TO   SKK    HIM    DROWN. 


sort  of  drow.sy  state  and  did  not  see  the  last  of 
the  poor  animal.  I  had  covered  her  up  as 
warmly  as  possible  with  buffalo  robes,  and 
presently,  to  my  great  joy,  she  fell  into  a  kind  of 
troubled  sleep.  We  were  now  nearing  Indian 
Cove,  where  a  friend  of  ours  had  his  country 
seat,  but  the  place  was  shut  up  for  the  winter. 
I   eagerly    looked  around    in   a    vain   hope    that 


1    wrapi)ed   her   in    the   sleigh   robes,    and   then 
pushed  the  cariole  into  the  river. 

How  to  describe  tho.se  next  lew  hours  I  do 
not  know.  We  kept  moving,  moving  onwards, 
with  the  water  rising  slowly,  but  relentlessly, 
over  our  floe,  till  at  last  both  of  us  were  soaked 
through  with  the  icy  fluid  in  which  we  crouched. 
Fortunately,  I  had  my  pipe,    but  as  the  evening 


476 


THE   wiDr:   woki.i)   ma(;azink. 


approached  we  l)oth  became  hungry.  My  wife 
had  rescued  from  tlie  cariole  a  cake  which  she 
had  made  for  the  children,  and  this  we  ate,  but 
our  condition  was  most  miserable.  Our  teeth 
were  chattering  with  cold,  and  we  had  given 
ourselves  up  for  lost. 

While  we  could  still  see  our  danger  it  seemed 
more  bearable,  but  the  darkness  tended  to  lend 
new  terrrors  to  our  awful  situation,  and  clasping 
each  other's  hands  we  prepared  for  the  worst. 
To  increase  our  miserv  snow  now  began  to  fall 
— a  blinding  storm  which  cut  our  faces — and 
at  each  bumj)  of  our  i)iece  of  ice  we  felt  sure 
the  end  had  arrived. 

At  last,  feeling  no  answering  pressure  from 
my  wife's  hand  as  I  held  hers,  I  lit  a  match  to 
look  at  her  face,  and  found  to  my  horror  that 
she  had  dropped  off  to  sleep.  It  was  so  cold 
by  this  time  that  I  knew  sleep  would  be  fatal  ; 
she  would  be  frozen  to  death,  and  I  tried  my 
best  to  rouse  her.  Her  one  idea,  however,  was 
to  be  left  alone„  and  at  last  I  was  almost  in 
despair  when  the  sudden  shock  of  our  piece  of 
ice  grounding  against  some  obstacle  roused 
her,  to  my  great  delight — though  at  the  same 
time  I  feared  she  would  only  be  thoroughly 
awakened  in  an-  . 
other  world. 

We  waited  in 
fear  and  trem- 
bling for  what 
would  happen 
next ;  but  to  our 
surprise  the  ice 
remained  station- 
ary. For  the 
ne.xt  three  hours 
we  sat  there  in 
the  darkness, 
shivering  with 
cold   and   terror. 


till  at  length  the  welcome  beams  of  the 
morning  sun  showed  us  that  we  were 
aground  on  some  land.  Rising  to  our  feet, 
we  hastened  ashore  over  the  broken  ice  as 
([uickly  as  we  could  in  our  stiff  and  frozen  con- 
dition. Our  clothes  were  so  stiff  with  frost  that 
we  could  hardly  walk;  but  we  forgot  everything 
in  the  joy  of  being  saved.  There  were  no  houses 
to  be  seen,  so  I  persuaded  my  wife  to  wait  for  me 
while  I  reconnoitred.  I  had  not  gone  more  than 
half  a  mile  when  I  came  across  a  house  and, 
rousing  the  occupants,  told  them  my  story.  I 
then  found  that  we  had  come  ashore  at  St. 
Pierre,  one  of  the  parishes  in  the  Island  of 
Orleans.  The  family  were  extremely  kind,  and 
immediately  harnessed  a  horse  to  a  cariole,  in 
which  we  went  to  get  my  wife,  We  had  soon 
exchanged  our  wet  clothes  for  some  homespun 
apparel  belonging  to  our  hosts,  and  I  don't 
think  we  ever  enjoyed  a  meal  more  in  our 
lives  than  the  one  we  had  then,  though  it 
only  consisted  of  some  black  bread  and 
cheese,  followed  by  curdled  milk  and  maple 
sugar. 

It  was  three  days  before  we  managed  to  cross 
to  the  mainland,  and  when  we  arrived   home  we 

were  welcomed 
as  though  we  had 
risen  from  the 
dead.  Strange 
to  say,  we  neither 
of  us  felt  any  ill- 
effects  from  our 
terrible  fifteen 
hours'  journey 
on  the  ice,  but 
toiny  dying  day 
I  shall  never 
forget  the  horrors 


of     that 
voyage. 


a  w  \'A  1 


I    KUUNI)   TO    MV    IIOKKOK     ICfAI'    Sllli    IfAl)    DKi  >I'|-KI)   (HI'    TO   SI.KEP." 


On  the  March  in  the  Bahr-el-Ghazal. 


r.v  ("ai'i Ai.N   H.   I*'..   Havmes,  ok  thk  Royal  Akmn    Mi.dicai,  Corps. 

I. 

An  interesting  account  of  one  of  the  little  expeditions  of  which  the  general  public  hear  next  to  nothing, 
but  which  accomplish  a  vast  amount  of  useful  work.     Captain  Haymes  was  a  member  of  a  small  but  well- 
equipped  expedition  which,  under  Colonel  Sparkes,  C.M.G.,  was  sent  to  re-occupy  the  Bahr-el-Ghazal 
province.    The  author  illustrates  his  narrative  with  some  extremely  striking  and  curious  photographs. 


N  November  29th,  1900,  a  small 
force,  consisting  of  five  British 
officers  and  about  two  hundred  and 
fifty  Soudanese  irregular  troops,  under 
Colonel  Si)arkes,  C.M.G.,  left  Khar- 
toum in  order  to  take  effective  re-occupation  of 
the  Bahr-el-Ghazal  province,  made  famous  by 
the  Marchand  incident.  ^Ve  steamed  up  the 
Nile — each  boat  towing  two  barges — passing 
Fashoda  and  Tewfikish,  and  so  on  to  Lake  No, 
wIktc  wc  left  the  main  river,  the  White  Nile, 
and  entered  the  Bahr-el-Ciiiazal.  This  river 
soon  became  so  narrow  that  the  barges  had  to 
be  towed  astern  instead  of  alongside.  At  a 
distance  of  about  two  miles  from  either  side  of 
the  river  trees  could  be  seen.  The  upper  decks 
of  these  barges,  by  the  way,  were  occupied  by 
our  men  and  their  wives  and  children,  whilst  the 
lower  were  given  up 
to  the  donkeys  and 
mules.  Papyrus,  grow- 
ing about  eight  feet 
high,  lined  the  stream, 
e  X  t  e  n  ding  back 
for  a  tremendous 
distance,  for  no 
real  banks  exist- 
ed. Ilip{)opotami 
were  very  numer- 
( )  u  s ,  a  doze  n 
heads  often  show- 
in  g  at  o  n  c  e . 
Whistling  teal, 
too,  rose  in 
clouds  before  tlu- 
stc.Tiner,  and  it 
was  obvious  that 
this  great  marshy 
waste  teemed 
with  game.  /.„„„«1 


SURAMIN*.    IP     IHK    llAHK-H.-t.llAZAl., 


On  December  13th  we  had  apparently  reached 
the  end  of  the  (ihazal  River,  or,  at  least,  that 
portion  of  it  which  was  navigable.  We  accord- 
ingly landed  in  the  midst  of  high  grass  on  what 
subsequently  proved  to  be  an  island. 

The  tall  grass  was  soon  burnt  down  and  the 
tents  pitched,  and  then  all  hands  were  set  to 
work  unloading  the  boats.  The  donkeys  and 
mules  seemed  quite  delighted  to  get  on  land 
once  more,  after  their  cramped  quarters  on  the 
boats. 

Messages  were  sent  to  all  the  neighbouring 
villages  telling  the  people  of  our  arrival,  and 
asking  for  porters  to  carry  our  baggage.  Mean- 
while a  few  Dinkas  visited  us  in  their  quaint 
dug-out  canoes,  made  from  the  trunk  of  a  single 
tree.  The  Dinkas  are  very  clever  in  steering 
these  canoes,  and   get  along  at  a  great  pace. 

Paddles  are  used  in 
deep  water,   and   a 
pole  in  shallows 
where  the  bottom  is 
sound.    The  boats, 
however,   are 
easily   capsized, 
and    generally 
leak  freely.     Any 
holes  in  them  are 
simply    stopped 
u  p   with    mud, 
and  one  man   is 
ke[)t  busy  baling 
all  the  time. 

A  brisk  trade 
was  done  with 
the  visitors  in 
chickens  and 
goats,  small 
white  beads  or 
e  m  [)  t  y    brass 


[r/iato. 


478 


THE     WIDE    WORM)     .M.\(  lA/IXi: . 


cartridge-cases  being  given  in  exchange,  one 
of  the  latter  being  sufficient  to  buy  a  goat.  We 
were  evidently  looked  on  with  suspicion,  how- 
ever, for  although  all  the  local  sheiks,  or  head- 
men, came  in,  bringing  the  stereotyped  presents 
of  sheep  and  goals,  very  little  information  could 
he  obtained  from  them.  A\'e  had,  therefore,  to 
have  recourse  to  the  allurements  we  had  brought. 
'Ihe  gramophone  and  musical-box  were  turned 
on,  much  to  the  wonderment  and  delight  of  the 
natives,  and  presents  of  cloth,  beads,  and  brass 
distributed  freely.  These  had  some  effect,  and 
we  then  asked  for  porters.  They  were  promised, 
but  never  turned  up. 


After  three  days'  waiting  we  decided  to  start 
on  our  march  into  the  country,  relying  on  our 
own  donkeys  and  mules  to  carry  our  rations,  trade 
goods,  baggage,  etc.  ^Ve  had  six  mules  and 
eighty-four  donkeys,  by  the  way. 

As  we  did  not  know  how  we  should  be 
received  by  the  various  tribes,  it  was  necessary 
to  take  a  strong  armed  force  with  us.  It  was 
arranged  that  we  should  march  one  hundred 
and  twenty  miles  to  a  spot  on  the  Tong  River 
which  had  been  previously  occupied  by  the 
French. 

In  order  to  leave  our  island  we  found  it  would 
be  necessary  to  wade  for  about  three  hundred 


4  70 


From  a\ 


All,    HANDS    AT    WORK    I'ULI.INO    UC    lllli        SL  UI)       TO    MAKE    A    UKIDGE. 


[Photo. 


yards    through    water    three    to   four  feet   deep, 
which  would  not  do  at  all  for  loaded  donkeys. 

All  hands  were  accordini^ly  turned  on  to  pull 
up  the  weeds  and  sudd  which  grew  in  the  water, 
and   to   pile    it    up   so   as  to  make   a  kind  of 


temporary  bridge  over  which  the  animals  could 
cross.  In  two  days  our  roadway  was  completed, 
and  tlien  men  and  animals  passed  over  safely  to 
dry  land. 

Snakes   were   fountl  to  abound    in    the    rank 


TIIK   EXI'KUITIO.N    CKOSSINC   THE    "SLDD 
From  a  /'hotc 


480 


THE    WTDi:     WORLD     MAC.A/IX  i:. 


vegetation,  and,  though  no  one  was  actually 
bitten,  they  caused  us  much  annoyance. 
Although  wc  had  only  been  a  few  days  in 
the  country  many  of  the  men  were  down  with 
malaria ;  llie  mosquitoes,  too,  were  almost  un- 
bearable. Fortunately,  the  men  had  been 
provided  with  large  curtains,  which  would 
accommodate  twenty-five  of  them  lying  down. 

A  guide  had  been  obtained  for  the  expedition, 
and  he  proved  a  fair  sample  of  all  the  guides  we 
met  with  in  the  country.  When  asked  how  far 
we  were  from  the  nearest  water  he  would  say 
"Quite  close."  After  marching  for  a  couple  of 
hours  he  would  casually  remark  that  it  was  "  a 
long  way,"  and  if  he  saw  that  this  did  not  please 
he  would  announce,  "  It  is  in  front."     (Granting 


heads.  Every  man  also  carried  either  a  [)ick-a\e, 
spade,  or  felling-axe,  and  eighty  rounds  of 
ammunition.  Each  of  the  officers  was  allowed 
one  donkey  for  his  baggage,  and  as  this  meant 
bed,  table,  bath,  clothes,  gun,  etc.,  for  what 
turned  out  to  be  a  nine  months'  trip,  it  will  be 
seen  that  we  were  going  rather  light. 

A  march  of  ten  miles  through  tall  grass  and 
scattered  bush  brought  us  to  a  broad  khor,  or 
water-course.  This  caused  some  delay,  as  many 
of  the  animals  fell-  down  in  the  water  with  the 
loads  on  their  backs,  and  could  not  get  u[)  till 
their  saddles  had  been  removed. 

We  marched  another  four  miles  in  the  even- 
ing and  camped  in  a  Dinka  village,  where  water 
was   so   scarce  that   it  was  long  after  midnight 


nil-;  i--.<;vi'riAN'  soi.dikhs   on  -riii--.  mahcu. 
J-roin  a  I'hotn. 


) 

that  we  were  moving  in  the  right  direction,  this 
was  so  obviously  correct  that  it  always  closed 
the  discussion. 

'i'he  going  was  very  difficult,  as  the  accom- 
panying |)hoto.  will  show.  The  grass  had  not 
yet  Ijeen  burnt,  and  w;is  in  places  eight  to  ten 
feet  high,  and  no  track  of  any  sort  existed. 

A  great  deal  of  time  was  spent  in  weighing 
out  loads  for  the  donkeys,  rations,  ammunition, 
etc.,  anil  a  further  complication  arose  when 
the  .soldiers'  wives  insisted  on  lollowing  their 
husbands  !  They  are  wonderfn!  women,  how- 
ever, and  can  march  all  day  witii  a  fifty-pound 
load  on  their  heads,  and  come  in  smiling  at 
the  finish.  The  men  carried  their  rifles  slung 
over  their  shoulders,  with  blankets,  mackintosli 
sheets,  change  of  clothes,  biscuits,  etc.,  on  their 


before  all  the  donkeys  had  had  a  drink.  Three 
shallow  wells  were  opened,  but  only  yielded 
about  a  bucketful  of  milk-white  water  at  a 
time.  A  guard  was  placed  over  each  well  after 
it  had  been  emptied  to  allow  it  to  refill. 

We  were- now  in  the  land  of  the  great  Dinka 
tribe,  by  far  the  most  numerous  of  all  those  in 
the  Bahrel-Cihazal  province.  Physically,  the 
Dinka  is  a  s[)lendid  man,  seldom  standing 
under  six  feet,  often  six  feet  four  inches.  He 
scorns  any  form  of  clothing,  wearing  only  a 
cone-shaped  straw  hat,  ornamented  with  (jslrich 
feathers.  He  also  wears  heavy  ivory  bracelets 
on  the  upper  arm  and  a  string  of  beads  round 
his  neck  and  loins.  The  incisor  teeth  of  the 
lower  jaw  are  always  removed.  He  carries  two 
or  three  long  spears  and  a  heavy  wooden  club. 


ox      IIU:     MAKCII     IN 


I'll 


i;.\iik-el-(;hazal 


481 


The  liair  is  shaved  from  the  forehead  us  far 
back  as  the  ears,  and  the  short  back  hair  is 
worn  in  plaits.  IIk'  1  )inka  can  always  be  dis- 
tiiiguislied  by  the  three  incisions  in  tiie  skin, 
running  on  either  side  from  tlie  base  of  the 
nose  across  the  forehead,  in  an  upward  curve, 
to  behind  the  ears.  Numerous  small  brass  ear- 
rings are  worn  by  men  and  women. 

The  chief  occupation  of  the  Dinkas  is  cattle- 
breeding,  many  of  the  hig  sheiks  possessing  as 
many  as  a  thousand  head.  They  also  do  a 
good  deal  of  fishing.  They  are,  without  excep- 
tion, the  most  lazy  people  we  had  to  deal  with. 
Very  little  corn  is  cultivated,  seldom  even  suffi- 
cient for  their  own  consumption.  They  depend 
on  their  neighbours,  the  Jur  tribe,  to  supply 
them  with  what  they  recjuire. 

(,\ittle  are  of  great  value,  as  with  them  wives  are 
bought.  Twenty-live  to  fifty  cows  are  even  now 
paid  for  one  woman,  and 
before  disease  decimated 
the  herds  five  hundred 
was  said  to  be  no  un- 
common number. 

Owing  to  the  cost  of 
wives  few  of  the  Dinka 
men  can  afford  to  marry, 
but  the  sheik  makes  up 
for  the  rest  of  the  tribe 
by  always  having  a  large 
number.  Five  to  ten  is 
usual,  whilst  I  have 
known  one  millionaire 
who  owned  to  possessing 
twenty-five. 

During  the  early  days 
of  the  expedition  we 
found  the  Dinkas  diffi- 
cult to  get  on  with. 
Wherever  possible  our 
guide  avoided  their  vil- 
lages, and  we  generally 
had  to  put  up  with  a 
poor  water  supply. 

The  country  was  perfectly  flat  and  park-like. 
We  .saw  constant  signs  of  elephant,  and  also 
herds  of  tiang  every  day.  (liraffe  were  seen 
frequently  and  also  ostrich.  (Guinea -fowl 
abounded,  and  also  crested  crane  and  part- 
ridge. 

We  were  never  short  of  meat,  but  had  said  a 
long  good-bye  to  bread  and  vegetables  when  we 
left  the  river.  Our  chief  dish  consisted  of 
curried  adz  (lentils)  and  rice.  Our  cook,  an  old 
Turk,  was  excellent,  (live  him  almost  anything 
and  a  bottle  of  cuiry  powder,  and  he  would 
turn  you  out  a  first-class  meal  in  twenty  minutes. 
It  was  very  amusing  to  see  our  worthy  clicf 
driving  his  donkey,  covered  with  chickens  and 


l)uls  and  pans,  and  carrying  the  funnel  of  the 
gramophone  with  a  bottle  of  gin  sticking  out 
of  il.  Owing  to  frequent  upsets  of  the  cook's 
load  we  soon  ran  short  of  salt.  This  was  a 
great  blow  how  great  only  the  traveller  in  the 
wilds  knows.  Two  things  that  no  explorer 
should  ever  be  without  are  salt  and  Worcester 
sauce.  A  careful  combination  of  these  in- 
gredients will   make  elephant  equal  to  sucking- 

On  entering  the  outskirts  of  a  village  we 
generally  halted  and  sent  our  guide  forward 
to  bring  out  the  sheik,  or  headman.  This 
im|)ortant  individual  arrived  in  due  course,  his 
body  and  face  white  with  ashes.  The  manner 
of  greeting  is  curious.  After  removing  the  quid 
of  tobacco  from  his  cheek  and  placing  it  behind 
his  ear,  he  extended  one  arm  straight  in  front 
of  his  body  on  a  level  with  the  shoulder.     The 


THE    TURKISH    COOK — HE  COULD  IKODUCK  A   FIKST-CLASS 
MEAL    I'ROM    "  ALMO.ST   ANYTHLNG   AND   A    BOTTLE 

Front  a\  OK  CURKV  I'OWUEK."  {Photo. 


hand  he  bent  upwards  and  backwards  as  far 
as  possible,  whilst  the  fingers  were  widely 
separated. 

He  then  said,  "  Amadi,  Amadi,"  with  each 
word  making  a  gesture  of  repulsion  with  the 
outstretched  hand.  He  generally  brought  us  a 
very  lean  goat  as  a  present,  swore  that  he  had 
no  milk,  sheep,  or  eggs,  did  not  know  how 
far  it  was  to  the  next  water,  and  thought  that 
'I'ong,  our  destination,  was  a  day  farther  than 
we  had  ex[)ected.  He  received  his  own  present 
with  no  expression  of  delight,  and  maintained  a 
stolid  a|)pearance  of  indifference  to  all  our 
l)roceedings.  I'his  was  the  invariable  reception 
we  received. 


Vol. 


61. 


482 

After  three  days' 
marching  most  of  us 
were  suffering  from 
sore  feet.  Many  of 
the  men,  moreover, 
had  fever,  and  there 
were  also  a  few  mild 
cases  of  sunstroke. 

We  noticed  many 
hollow  tree-trunks 
about  six  feet  long, 
and  open  at 
both  ends, 
stuck  up  hori- 
zontally on 
poles  and  in 
trees,  appa- 
rently for  no 
purpose. 
These  myste- 
rious objects 
turned  out  to 
be  native  bee- 
hives. Bees 
are  to  be  found 


THE    WIDE    WORM)     MAC.AZINE. 


day 


,  J- 


<.---:.' i 


-  ^  _••  - 


Hoi.i.ou  KD-ou  I    i.i'c;  i-^  A  NAii\r:  r,ii:-iiivr:. 
From  a  Photo. 


The    b  e  e  - 
bird,  an  insig- 
nificant    little 
fellow    rather 
like    a   hedge- 
sparrow,      is 
common  every- 
where.    He  is 
to    be   heard 
almost   every 
on    the    march, 
chattering    away    and 
il uttering  from  tree  to 
tree  in  front  of  you. 
Once  you  start  follow- 
ing him  he  leads  you 
straight  to  one   of 
these  hollow   trees 
where  honey  is  to  be 
found.    He  then  stays 
close    at     hand    and 
waits    till    the    honey 
has  been  taken,  when 
he  is    pretty   sure   to 
get  his  share  of  comb 
and    grubs.       It    is 
quite  pathetic   to  see 
the  state  he  gets  into  if  one 
passes    straight    on    without 
noticing  him. 

The  ostrich,  although 
pretty  wide  awake  when  the 
grass  is  burnt,  is  easy  to 
approach  at  dawn  or  when 
the  high  grass  almost  covers 
you.     One   morning,   as  the 


all  over  the  country,  and  when 
they  swarm  frecjuently  take 
possession  of  these  hollow  logs 
and  soon  fill  ihem  from  end 
to  end  with  comb.  The  native 
is  very  fond  of  honey,  and 
takes  absolutely  no  iK^tice  of 
stings.  I  have  seen  their  faces 
and  hands  literally  bristling 
with  bee  stings,  which  they 
have  not  taken  the  trouble  to 
remove. 


A    UINKA    HOMCSTF.AI} — liACII    AMMAl.    is    1  K  1  Ill-.KKU    1  ij    1  I  r.    ott  .s     IAMI<.CI.aK     I  l.O. 

/•'rotn  a  Photo. 


us      I  111-;     MAKCll     IN      lili.     IIAIIK  l-.K-(;ii.\/.AL. 


4^3 


day  was  breaking,  some  of  our  men  who  had 
lost  their  way  in  the  dark  followed  a  string 
of  ostriches,  thinking  they  were  the  donkeys. 
On  one  occasion  we  shot  one  for  meat.  The 
flesh  is  white,  but  very  hard  and  stringy. 
The  soup,  however,  is  excellent.  We  had 
decided  not  to  shoot  giraffe  unless  absolutely 
obliged  to  do  so  for  meat.  This  became 
necessary  once  out  towards  Dem  Zubier.  The 
skin  is  very  thick,  and  too  heavy  to  be  of 
much  use  in  a  country  where  transport  is  so 
difiicult.  The  flesh  has  a  most  unpleasant 
odour,  which  does  not  di.sappear  in  the  cooking. 
I  tackled  giraffe  soup  and  curried  giraffe,  and 
for  days  after  everything  I  ate  tasted  giraffe. 
The  natives  consider  it  the  best  food  obtain- 
able, and  prize  the  tail  highly. 

Since  leaving  the  river  mosquitoes  had  almost 
disappeared,  and  our  curtains  were  no  longer 
necessary.  The  climate  was  lovely  ;  the  maxi- 
mum temperature  seldom  rose  above  loodeg., 
and  the  nights  were  beautifully  cool.  Our 
march  was  not  without  excitement,  as  we  were 
frequently  told  that  the  Dinkas  in  front  had 
vowed  that  we  should  not  enter  their  country. 
All  we  feared  was  a  sudden  rush  through  the 
long  grass  ;  for  anything  else  we  were  prepared. 

Our  caravan  extended  for  about  a  mile,  and 
constant  halts  had  to  be  called  in  order  to  allow 
stragglers  to  close  up.  Snakes  were  seldom 
seen,  but  we  killed  two  or  three  puff  adders  — 
one  of  the  most  deadly  species  known.  Most 
villages  which  we  actually  passed  through  we 
found  deserted,  and  all  the  sheep  and  cattle 
driven  off".  The  J)inka  huts  are  very  small,  but 
picturesque.  They  are  circular,  the  walls  made 
of  mud,  and  the  roofs  thatched  neatly  with  grass. 


.Ml  round  the  huts  numerous  pegs  are  driven 
into  the  ground,  to  which  sheep,  cattle,  and  goats 
arc  tethered.  Kach  animal,  curiously  enough, 
has  its  own  particular  peg.  The  preceding 
photo,  gives  a  good  idea  of  a  small  Dinka 
homestead  in  the  early  morning,  and  shows  the 
animals  tethered  to  their  posts. 

All  along  the  road  we  saw  numerous  lulu 
trees.  They  are  very  like  an  English  oak  in 
appearance.  The  fruit,  which  resembles  a 
walnut,  is  collected  and  stored  by  the  natives. 
The  green  outer  husk  is  sweet  and  not  un- 
pleasant, whilst  the  kernel,  which  looks  like  a 
horse-chestnut,  when  dried  and  crushed  pro- 
duces a  brown,  thick,  oily  mess,  which  is  excel- 
lent for  cooking,  taking  the  place  of  butter  or 
suet.  It  is  stored  in  earthenware  jars  and  will 
keep  for  months.  Several  of  the  trees  here- 
abouts yield  rubber,  the  best  quality  being 
obtained  from  a  creeper. 

We  reached  the  old  French  post  of  Tong  ten 
days  after  leaving  our  boats.  The  walls  of  the 
houses  were  still  standing,  but  the  roofs  had 
been  burnt.  The  station  was  well  situated  on 
the  banks  of  the  Tong  River.  Large  herds  of 
white-eared  kob  could  be  seen  feeding  on  the 
plain  across  the  river.  1  went  over  in  the 
early  morning  and  saw  four  hippo  basking  in 
the  sun  on  a  sand-bank.  The  river  swarmed 
with  crocodiles,  but  I  saw  none  remarkably 
large. 

The  kob  were  not  at  all  shy,  and  I  had  no 
difficultv  in  getting  two  fuie  bucks.  The  follow- 
ing  day  we  made  our  first  accjuaintance  with  the 
Pjongo  tribe,  and  found  them  a  great  contrast  to 
the  Dinkas.  They  are  short,  well-made  little 
fellows,  with  a  keen  sense  of  humour.     Their 


h'rom  a  I 


IHE    HOISTING   OF    THE    BKITISH    AND    F.GVITI.\N    FLAGS   AT   TONG. 


\rhoto. 


484 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


weapons  consist  of  bows  and  arrows  and  spears. 
.Several  of  them  carried  guns  and  rifles  of  sorts, 
but  ammunition  was  scarce.  They  are  fond  of 
clothing,  and  even  the  meanest  always  wears  a 
loin  cloth.  Cotton  is  grown  in  all  their  villages, 
and  they  make  a  very  serviceable  rough  material 
from  it. 

Messages  were  sent  to  all  the  natives  in  the 
district  summoning  them  to  come  in  and  witness 
the  hoisting  of  the  Union  Jack  and   Egyptian 


had  to  march  half  the  men  and  all  the  women 
back  to  the  river — a  hundred  and  twenty  miles. 
The  donkeys  and  mules,  too,  were  sent  back  to 
bring  up  food  for  those  who  remained.  This 
scarcity  of  corn  proved  our  chief  obstacle  all 
through  the  expedition. 

Not  only  had  we  to  select  posts  and  to  build 
and  occu[)y  them,  but,  when  we  had  done  so,  it 
was  with  the  greatest  difficulty  that  sufficient 
food  could  be  found  to  keep  them  going.     Our 


THE  OFFICF.RS   OF   THE   EXI'EDlrlON — MAJOU    BOULNOIS,    R.A.  ;   CAl'T.    I'lUlE,    D.S.O.  ;   CAI'T.    IIAYMUS,    R.A.M.C.  ; 

From  a\  a.nu  coL.  sI'ARKES,  c.m.g.  \Photo. 


fl.ig,  and  at  the  appointed  time  this  impressive 
ceremony  was  duly  carried  out. 

The  tarboush,  or  fez,  worn  by  our  men  did 
not  create  a  very  good  imi)ression  among  the 
natives,  a.s  it  reminded  them  of  the  old  slave- 
trading  days.  We  were  always  spoken  of  as 
""lurks,"  and  even  after  an  occupation  of 
eighteen  months  this  idea  still  existed. 

The  locusts  had  devastated  all  the  crops  and 
the  natives  had  not  enough  food  for  themselves. 
Wc  found  it  (juile   impossible  to  buy  corn,  so 


donkeys  began  to  die  off  in  about  six  weeks,  and 
only  two  or  three  of  the  original  eighty-four  were 
alive  after  six  months. 

The  (juestion  became  entirely  one  of  trans- 
port—how to  feed  posts  a  hundred  and  fifty  to 
two  hundred  miles  from  our  base  with  a  totally 
inadequate  number  of  animals.  It  was  a  most 
important  matter,  too,  for  to  form  a  station  and 
then  have  to  evacuate  it  in  three  months  was 
hardly  likely  to  inspire  confidence  in  the  minds 
of  the  natives. 


To  l>e  contimu'd.) 


^-^«s^^ 


T5v   Rook   Carnkgie,  of  IJraii.a,   Rolmaxia. 


Mr.  Carnegie  is  the  Roumanian  Correspondent 
awkward   adventure  which   befell  him 

T  was  in  tlic  summer  of  1886  when, 
one  afternoon  towards  three  o'clock, 
I  took  my  pike-rod  and  walked  down 
to  the  quay  at  Braila,  and  hiring  a 
canoe  was  soon  out  on  the  broad 
breast  of  the  Danube.  Dropping  some  way 
down.  I  landed  on  the  opposite  shore.  I  was 
now  in  what  is  called  in  Roumanian  the 
"  Bulta,"'  a  vast  area  of  marsh-land  intersected 
by  large  and  small  water-courses,  while  here 
and  there  are  great  sheets  of  water,  all  teem- 
ing with  coarse  fish.  This  marsh  -  land  lies 
between  the  two  branches  of  the  Danube, 
the  principal  one  and  the  lesser,  known  locally 
as  the  Machin  branch,  but  in  reality  the  ancient 
bed  of  the  river.  This  "  Halta  "  is  some  sixty 
miles  long  and  fifty  broad,  its  face  changing 
continually  as  the  flood  waters  ri.se  or  recede. 

All  the  afterno(jn  I  spun  one  stream  after 
another,  but  with  indifferent  success.  The  only 
thing  I  got  was  a  shalan— a  fish  resembling  the 
bass — of  about  three  pounds.  The  banks  of 
these  lakes  are  too  reedy  and  muddy  to  allcjw  of 
spinning  with  comfort,  and  the  native  canoes  or 
lodka  too  cranky  to  use  for  fishing. 

I'rom  one  water  course  to  another  I  wandered 
on,  crossing  them  sometimes  by  the  rough 
stockades    built    by    the    wandering    fisherman. 


of  the    "  Daily  Express,"  and   here  describes   an 
in  the  vast  marsh-lands  of  the  Danube. 

\\'hilst  standing  at  one  stream— happily  just 
having  wound  in  my  line — I  suddenly  heard 
behind  me  a  rustling  in  the  busiies,  and,  swing- 
ing round,  saw  coming  towards  me  a  whole 
drove  of  wild  pigs.  These  brutes  are  turned 
loose  in  the  summer  and  live  on  what  they 
can  find  in  the  marsh-land.  I  had  often  been 
warned  as  to  their  savageness,  but,  as  I  had 
more  than  once  encountered  droves  without 
anything  happening,  did  not  altogether  believe 
the  tales  told  of  their  ferocity. 

This  time,  however,  it  seemed  I  was  to  be 
undeceived.  Within  a  few  yards  of  me  stood 
a  great  boar,  with  his  teeth  gleaming  in  the  dim 
light,  his  great  red  ears  flapping  anyrily.  and  an 
evil  look  in  his  little  slits  of  eyes.  Beiiind  him 
stood  a  crowd  of  sows  and  younger  porkers. 

For  a  second  I  thought  of  dashing  at  them 
with  a  yell,  but  then  it  struck  me,  "  \\'hat  will 
happen  if  I  don't  frighten  them  ofT?"'  There 
was  only  one  thing  to  do— to  walk  quietly 
towards  a  stockade  which  cros.scd  the  stream  a 
little  farther  up.  Hut  as  soon  as  I  moved  piggy 
moved  also  ;  in  fact,  he  made  a  rui^h  at  me.  I 
tlid  not  wish  to  have  my  leg  ripped  open  by 
tho.se  wicked-looking  tusk.s,  so  I  simply  took  to 
my  heels  and  ran,  with  the  whole  drove  grunt- 
ing and  scjuealing  after  me.     Just  as  I  seemed 


486 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


to  feel  the  boar's  nose  touching  me  I  mane  a 

mad,  flying  leap  for  the  stockade,  which  did  not 

touch  the  bank  by  several  feet,  and — how  I  do 

not  know— landed  on  it.     My  rod  flew  from  my 

hand,  but  by  great  good  luck  the  hooks  of  my 

spoon-bait  caught  on  one  of  the  poles  and  so 

saved  it. 

I  was  now  in  a  difficult  position.     If  I  crossed 

to  the  other  side  I  felt  sure  the  pigs  would  take 

to  the  water  and  follow  me.     I  had  my  Smith 

and   Wesson    in    my  hip  pocket,   but    if  I   shot 

the  boar,  which  I  was  not  at  all  certain  of  doing, 

it  would  do  no  good.     Moreover,  the  herdsmen 

who  live  in  the  marshes  to 

watch  the  pigs  (the   only 

men  for  whom  the  brutes 

have   any   respect)    might 

come    up,    and     then     it 

would  be  a  case  of   "out 

of    the   frying    pan."      So 

there    I    sat   and   watched 

the     setting     sun     slowly 

sinking  over  the   marshes, 

making    the    pigs'     burnt 

flanks    look    redder    than 

ever,  as  they  watched  me. 
Suppose    I    could   send 

off    the    l^oar,    would    his 

fa  m  i  I )'    folio  w    him?     I 

determined     to     try     and 

chance  the  results.  Aim- 
ing at  his   flank   I    pulled 

the  trigger  of  my  revolver. 

There  was  a  report,  a  shrill 

squeal,  a  chorus  of  grunts, 

and,  at  racing  pace,  away 
went  piggy,  followed  by  his 
whole  family. 

My  fear  now  was  that 
the  .sound  of  the  boar's 
sciueals  might  bring  up 
the  half-savage  herdsmen, 
so,  clambering  along  the 
stockade,  I  jumped  for 
land  and  then  "  legged  " 
it  once  more,  until  I  had  put  many  a  bed  of 
reeds  between  me  and  the  water-course.  Panting, 
I  |)ulled  up,  put  my  rod  together,  and  looked 
round  to  take  my  bearings.  I  did  not  seem  to 
know  where  I  was  ;  I  saw  nf)  familiar  landmark. 
I  started  off  in  what  I  look  to  be  the  right 
direction,  making  for  u  clump  of  willows  that 
seemed  to  be  familiar.  Irom  there  I  meant 
to  lake  a  circuitous  route  back  to  the  river, 
so  as  to  avoid  any  possible  rencontre  with  the 
swine-herds.  I  had  not  gone  very  far,  however, 
before  I  came  to  the  unpleasant  conclusion 
that  I  was  going  over  ground  I  did  not  know. 
I  must,    in   my  wanderings    as    1    fished,    and 


J-'rom  a  I'lioto.  by  C.  J.   Mahncr 


afterwards  in  my  run  for  safely,  have  got  over 
mucii  more  ground  than  I  thought  I  had.  1 
presently  found  myself  confronted  by  a  broad 
water-course,  which  I  did  not  remember  ever  to 
have  seen  before. 

It  was  now  growing  rapidly  dark.  I  made 
my  way  towards  what  seemed  in  the  half  light 
to  be  a  small  hillock,  hoping  to  get  a  look  round 
and  perhaps  espy  some  object  familiar  to  me. 
r>ut  my  eyes  had  played  me  false ;  it  was  only 
a  patch  of  reeds  higher  than  the  general  growth. 
A\'hat  on  earth  was  1  to  do  ?  I  looked  at  my 
watch  ;  it  was  nearly  eight  o'clock. 

I  now  began  to  be 
genuinely  alarmed,  for  in 
those  great  tracts  of  marsh 
and  forest  there  roamed 
nomad  bands  of  gipsies 
— not  to  speak  of  the  half- 
savage  Roumanian  and 
Russian  fishermen  - —  who 
would  think  nothing  of 
murdering  me  for  the 
clothes  I  stood  up  in.  I 
had  heard  of  people  who 
had  been  lost  in  the 
"Balta"  and  never  again 
heard  of,  and  now  these 
stories  came  back  to  my 
memory  with  peculiar 
distinctness.  How  often, 
almost  weekly,  did  the 
local  papers  report  cases 
of  bodies  being  thrown  up 
on  the  Danube's  banks 
with  all  the  evidences  of 
foul  play  on  them  ?  I'hat 
was  all  there  was  to  be 
said  in  the  matter,  for  the 
mystery  of  their  deaths  was 
never  solved. 

I  looked  at  my  revolver, 
one  cartridge  from  which 
had  gone  on  the  boar,  and 
then  I  put  it  carefully  in 
my  left  hi[)  pocket,  being  a  left-handed  person. 
1  could  now  scarcely  distinguish  objects 
a  hundred  yards  from  me,  and  the  heavy 
banks  of  miasmatic  mist  rising  made  it  still 
more  difficult  to  make  one's  way  among  the 
lliick,  malted  masses  of  rank  vegetation,  inter- 
twined willi  l(jng,  prickly  brambles.  Every 
step  I  look,  too,  disturbed  swarms  of  hungry 
mosquitoes,  which  crowded  buzzing  round  my 
neck  and  face. 

'i'o  crown  all,  signs  of  malarial  fever — a  disease 
which  is  Very  rife  on  the  lower  Danube  and 
from  which  I  had  been  lately  suffering — began 
to  make  them.selves  unpleasantly  evident.     Still 


l;i>c.K    CAKM'.l.lK,    ul     i^lwMLA, 
KOUMANIA. 


i.osi'    IX    rill-:   ••  i;.\i;iA. 


\^i 


I  |)locl(le(l  on,  fDliowiiii;  nliiuliv  {he  turnings  aiul 
wiiulings  of  ihc  stivaiii,  liu[jing  llius  tu  reach  the 
river  bank.  To  my  dismay,  however,  tlio 
water-course  siuidenly  emptied  itself  into  a  lake, 
the  dimensions  of  which  I  could  not  in  the 
darkness  determine. 

'I'he  fever  was  now  makiiiL;  nie  stairtrer  like  a 
drunken  man,  and  more  than  once  a  bramble 
stretched  across  my  path  brought  me  to  the 
grounil.  My  head  began  to  swim,  a  loud  sing- 
ing filled  my  ears,  and  in  my  veins  seemed  to 
run  molten  lead.  I  strove  to  struggle  on,  but  my 
legs  gave  way  beneath  me,  and  I  sank  to  the 
ground — fainting  and  delirious. 

On  coming  to  myself  it  was  some  time  before 
I  could  collect  my  senses,  but  the  sound  of 
voices  near  quickly  roused  me  to  my 
situation.  I  started  up,  and  my  hand  instinc- 
tively went  to  my  hip-pocket.  As  I  rose, 
however,  two  figures  nearly  stumbled  on  to  me, 
and  then  sprang  back  with  a  curse  in  Rou- 
manian. 

I  saw  a  long-barrelled  gun  aimed  at  me  in  the 
moonlight,  and  I    must  thank   the    fever  which 


What  could  I  d<)  ;  1  was  at  llie  tellow's 
mercy.  "  \'es,"  I  replied;  "why?"  I  must 
keep  a  bold  front. 

Ihe  man  gazed  at  me  curiously,  then  he 
turned  to  !iis  com[)anion. 

"  Radu,  it's  not  a  soldier,''  he  said  ;  "  it's  a 
ffeam/z"  [tieanitz  is  a  word  used  in  the  Balkans 
to  distinguish  anyone  from  west  of  the  Car- 
pathians). 

"  (iood  !  "  replied  the  other,  coming  up. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here  ? "  I  was  next 
asked. 

In  a  few  halting  words,  for  the  fever  made 
my  teeth  chatter,  I  explained. 

"  Then  you  don't  know  where  you  are  ?  ' 
(jueried  the  men. 

"  No,  I  wish  I  did.  Can't  you  get  me  back 
to  Braila  ?     Are  you  fishermen  ?  ' 

There  was  a  consultation  in  low  tones.  I 
had  sat  up  and  was  rubbing  my  face  and  hands, 
bitten  out  of  all  recognition  by  the  mosquitoes. 

One  of  the  men  turned  to  me.  "Can  you 
walk  ?  " 

W^ith  ditficultv  I  got  to  mv  legs. 


"l    SAW    A    I.O.SCMIAUKI.I.I  l.U    i,L   .    Al'.lLl)    Al      ,11.    1  .     IIIK   MOllM.K.ll  1. 


just  then  sent  me  tumbling  to  earth  again  for 
saving  my  life.  There  was  a  pause,  and  then 
one  (;f  the  men,  keeping  his  musket  at  the 
ready,  came  towards  where  I  lay. 

A  big  sheepskin  cap  surmounted  his  brown, 
sunburnt  vi.sage,  and  his  fierce,  fiery,  dark  eyes 
ga/.ed  down  on  me  iiKiuiringiy. 

"  Are  you  alone  ?  "  demanded  he. 


"  Now,  sir,  if  you  can  hold  your  tongue  and 
will  swear  not  to  mention  meeting  with  us  when 
you  get  back  to  Braila  we  will  hel|)  yuu  ;  if  not, 
you  can  stay,  and  you  know  what  that  means?" 

"  I'll  swear  anything  you  like  if  only  I  can 
get  away  from  here,'  I  answered.  .So  the  cro.ss 
haiuUe  of  a  ilagger  was  held  out  over  me  whilst 
I  swore  never  to  mention  that  I  had  met  these 


488 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


two  men,  and  I  dutifully  kissed  the  hilt  after- 
wards in  the  orthodox  fashion. 

'I'hen,  supported  by  the  arm  of  one  of  these 
mysterious  men  of  the  marshes,  I  was  led  away 
slowly  along  a  narrow  path  into  a  bed  of 
tall  reeds,  the  men  drawing  the  reeds  together 
behind  us  as  we  went.  Who  could  they  be?  I 
wondered.  Perhaps  they  were  brigands  and 
I  was  to  be  ransomed.     A  pretty  look-out ! 

A  turn  in  the  path  brought  before  me  a 
curious  scene.     Under  a  lean-to  of  poles  and 


"a   IURN    is    the    I'ATII    UROUCillT    BEFo'l.E   ME   A    CURIOUS   SCENE, 


reeds  burned  a  wood  fire,  by  which,  partly 
covered  with  long  sheepskin  coats,  lay  two  men 
in  the  Roumanian  militia  uniform.  I  under- 
stood at  once.     My  coin[)anions  were  deserters  ! 

A  few  rude  wooden  utensils  lay  about  and  the 
remains  of  an  evening  meal.  Some  dried  fish 
were  suspended  to  the  poles  of  the  shelter, 
together  with  a  string  of  garlic. 

The  soldiers  looked  up  surprised  .  as  I 
approached  in  the  company  of  their  comrades, 
but  a  hurried  explanation  from  the  leader  soon 
put  me  on  good  terms  with  them.  "  Come  by 
the  fire,"  .said  one,  "  and  roll  yourself  in  this 
cloak,  and  as  soon  as  you  j)erspire  the  fever  will 
go."  .So,  out-of-thfc-way  as  the  whole  experience 
was,  I  coiled  my.self  in  the  cloak  and  was  so(;n 
asleep.  1  only  remember  waking  once,  and 
seeing  in  the  dim  light  of  the  fire  a  man  who 
had  been  left  doing  "sentry-go"  come  in, 
whilst  one  of  his  companions  left  to  take  his 


place.     They  were  naturally   in  constant  dread 
of  a  military  search-i)arty  finding  them. 

Early  next  morning  I  awoke  with  the  fever 
gone,  feeling  fit  and  avcU.  One  soldier  was 
frying  some  perch  w^iich  he  had  caught,  and  to 
these  I  did  ample  justice,  though  eaten  from  a 
bowl  with  a  pocket-knife. 

The  men  told  me  they  belonged  to  a  fisher 
band.  They  had  been  seized  to  do  their 
military  service,  and  the  regular  life  and  hard 
work   of   barracks  soon   became   unbearable   to 

them,  so  they  had  deserted. 
There  were  some  of  their 
fisher -folk  comrades  who 
knew  of  their  whereabouts, 
but  no  one  else  but  my- 
self. "  I'hat  is  why  we 
swore  you  to  secrecy," 
added  my  informant. 
"  When  you  rose  up  and 
dropped  again  I  thought 
you  were  one  of  a  party 
of  military  coming  to  sur- 
prise us,  and  I  nearly  shot 
you ;  had  you  advanced,  I 
am  sure  I  should  !  " 

It  was  now  time  for  me 
to  start  on  my  homeward 
trami).  The  deserters  gave 
me  full  directions  as  to 
how  to  reach  the  river, 
and  I  departed,  after  giving 
them,  the  few  francs  I  had 
on  me.  I  also  gave  them 
my  addre-ss,  promising  them 
more  if  they  could  come  or 
send.  Then  I  bade  them 
"  Good-bye,"  and  by  even- 
ing w-as  once  more  at  home. 
The  world  is  very  small.  Two  years  after  at 
lUicharest,  at  some  State  festivities,  whilst  walk- 
ing along  with  an  ofificer  friend  whose  men  were 
lining  the  streets,  I  noticed  a  soldier  grin  and 
look  hard  at  me.  In  an  instant  there  flashed 
through  my  mind  that  "  Balta  "  episode. 

"  Wait  a  minute — there  is  a  man  I  know,"  1 
said  to  my  companion. 

"  Yes  !  It  was  all  in  vain,"  .said  the  ex- 
deserter,  as  I  stopped  beside  him  ;  "  we  got 
caught  at  last,  and  our  poor  backs  paid  for  it. 
They  sent  me  up  here,  and  my  companions  I 
know  not  where,  after  keeping  us  in  prison  some 
months.  If  you  should  by  chance  see  my 
friends,  say  I  am  here.  If  they  get  away 
they'll  make  for  the  '  Balta  '  again." 

1  pretended  to  examine  the  man's  accoutre- 
ments as  the  officer  stepped  up,  but  when  I 
went  away  I  left  a  little  "ammunition"  in  his 
cartridge-pouch. 


3(1^*^  Jack 


Bv  OcTAVius  Bartlett. 

The    author   had    a    tame    python    called    "Jack,"  of    which    he    was    very    fond.      Having   occasion    to 

leave   his  bungalow  for   a   couple  of  days,  he  locked    up    the   house,   leaving  Jack  inside.     During   Mr. 

Bartlett's    absence    the  leader  of  a  band  of  dacoits    reconnoitred  the    bungalow   with    the    intention  of 

ransacking  it.     The  strange   tragedy  which    happened   afterwards   is    told   in    the  story. 


AM  very  fond  of  animals,  and  take 
a  pride  in  taming  any  and  every 
wild  animal  I  can  get  hold  of.  The 
most  difficult  creature  I  ever  tried 
to  tame  was  a  young- j)ython,  whieh 
I  christened  Jack.  Now  the  python,  as  most 
people  know,  is  the  largest  snake  to  be  found 
in  the  world,  but  fortunately  its  bite  is  not 
poisonous. 

I  bought  Jack  from  a  native  shikari  when  I 
was  stationed  at  Asansol,  and  added  him  to 
my  small  collection  of  pets,  which  at  the  time 
consisted  of  a  young  bear,  two  tiger  cubs,  a 
black  panther,  a  jackal,  and  a  fo.\terrier  and 
pups,  with  a  large  aviary  of  birds.  When  I  got 
Jack  I  thought  it  probable  that  I  should  have 
to  go  to  the  expense  of  buying  a  cage  for  him 
as  he  began  to  grow  larger.  At  the  time, 
however,  he  was  only  about  6ft.  long  and  did 
not  seem  very  formidable,  so  I  simply  gut  him  a 
bo.\  and  put  a  door  un  it.      lUil  I   had  to  watch 


Vol. 


62. 


him  very  carefully  for  the  first  day  or  two,  as  I 
thought  other  pets  would,  perha[)s.  try  to  master 
him,  or  that  he  might  endeavour  to  get  hold  of 
some  of  my  birds.  He  behaved  very  well,  how- 
ever, and  did  not  attempt  to  interfere  with  the 
birds  or  animals  or  thry  with  him,  and  very 
soon  they  all  became  quite  friendly,  so  that 
Master  Jack  was  allowed  the  run  of  the  bunga- 
low. The  only  person  who  did  not  like  him 
was  my  bearer  (native  servant).  \\'hen  I  had 
had  Jack  a  few  days  this  worthy  told  me  he 
should  have  to  leave  me  if  I  kept  the  snake,  as 
he  was  afraid  Jack  would  kill  him.  "Very 
well,"  I  said,*"  if  you  are  afraid,  you  can  go  ; 
but  I  shall  keep  tlie  snake."  As  he  knew  I 
meant  what  I  said,  the  man  elected  to  stay,  but 
he  never  made  friends  with  Jack. 

Well,  as  time  went  on,  Jack  began  to  grow  at 
a  great  rate.  He  had  everything  he  wanted  — 
plenty  (A  milk  to  drink,  a  fowl  or  kid  when  he 
was  hungry,  and   a   large  bath  to  sfjlash  about 


496 


'11 11-:     WIDI'     WOK  I,  I)     MACA/AS 


and   cool    himself    in.      Al- 
together   he    was    in    clover, 
and    he    began    to  get  over- 
bold at  times  and  misbehave 
himself.     At    meal    times   he 
would    come    gliding    round 
and,    not    satisfied    with    his 
saucer     of     milk,     would 
knock    over    the    things    on 
the    table.       If    I    corrected 
him  with  the  stick  he  would 
bowl    tai)le,    myself,  and   all 
over     with      his     big     body. 
Even     if     I     gave     him     a 
thorough  thrashing  it  was  of 
no     use,    for     the     more    I 
thrashed    him    the  worse   he 
got,  and  I  always  had  to  give 
way    at    the     finish.       It  was 
lucky    for    me    that  pythons 
are  not  poisonous  or  I  should 
not  be  alive  to  tell 
this  story,    for*  Jack 
bit    me  many  times 
in     the     battles   we 
had     for      mastery. 
I    took    very   good 
care    never    to    let 
him    get     his    coils 
round    me,    or     I 
should     have    been 
done    for    at    once, 
as     the    crushing 
power  of  these  great 
snakes  is  something 
terrific.      They   can 
crush  a  pig,  a  deer, 
or    even    a    liuffalo 
as  easily  as  you  or 
I   could   squeeze  an 
orange. 

Jack  was  all  right 
when  he  was  in  a 
good  temper,  but  a 
very  demon  when 
roused.  Although 
I  was  not  afr;iid  of 
him  ordinarily,  I 
always  kept  a 
loaded  revolver  and 
a  hunting  -  knife 
handy  in  case  of 
emergencies.  I  very 
nearly  had  to  use 
them  one  night,  as  Jac  k  -  who 
often  coiled  himself  up  on  the  foot 
of  my  bed  — must  have  got  rest- 
less during  the  night  and  coiled 
himself    round     the    bed    and    me 


/'"/-(!/- 


-.;];.   11.    l;.\K  i  li:  I  i . 

II  t'liolp.  hy  J.  Eii.bcfson. 


J.-. 


I    WAS    MKT   IIV   THF    BURDCKAN    INSPECTOR   OP    I'OLICE 
AND    A    NL'MMEK   OK    HIS   NATIVE   CONSTAIll.F.S." 


and  began  to  squeeze.  I 
managed  to  slip  out  in  the 
nick  of  time,  just  as  the  bed 
gave  way  under  the  strain 
and  everything  was  crumpled 
up. 

Jack  was  getting  both  big 
and  expensive,  and  as  all 
my  friends  were  afraid  to 
come  near  me  when  Jack 
was  out  and  abcnit,  I  had 
to  shut  him  up  when  I 
had  visitors — a  proceeding 
he  did  not  like  at  all.  I 
therefore  thought  seriously 
of  selling  liim.  I  had  al- 
ready refused  him  to  several 
|)eople,  as  I  was  fond  oi 
him  and  he  had  got  to 
know  me,  but  he  was  get- 
ting most  decidedly  in  the 
way  as  a  pet. 

I  was  at  this  time 
a  guard  on  the  East 
Indian  Railway, 
and  one  day  I  left 
for  Calcutta  with 
my  train.  As  usual, 
I  left  Jack  loose 
inside  my  bunga- 
low,  which  I  locked 
up,  as  the  hearer 
would  not  go  inside 
while  I  was  away, 
for  fear  of  the 
python.  He  did 
not  mind  the  other 
animals  in  the  yard, 
which  I  chained  up 
before  leaving,  as 
he  had  to  feed 
them  and  was  on 
very  good  terms 
with  each. 

I  was  away  on 
my  journey  for  a 
day  and  a  half,  and 
when  I  got  back 
about  three  o'clock 
one  afternoon  I 
saw  a  lot  of  people 
standing  on  the 
station.  As  my 
train  drew  up 
niv  bearer  came 
r  u  n  n  i  n  g  up  to 
me,  shouting  ex- 
citedly: ''Sa/iifi, 
sahib!       Sa  m  p 


MV    CULM     lACK 


491 


aJiimic  Hier^ahi."  ("Sir,  sir  I  Snakr  man 
killed.") 

At  lirsl  I  thought  the  python  had  got  out  of 
the  bungalow  and  had  killed  someone,  so  1 
jumped  out  of  my  brake-van  hurriedly  and 
advanced  towards  the  crowd.  I  was  met  by  the 
ICuropean  ins[)ector  of  police  and  a  number  of 
his  native  constables.  He  told  nie  that  some- 
one had  been  trying  to  break  into  my  bunga- 
low whilst  I  was  away.  The  robl)er  had  been 
killed,  he  thought, 
by  a  big  snake 
I  kept.  The 
police,  however, 
dared  not  go  in 
to  see,  for  fear  of 
the  wild  animals 
I  had  in  the 
yard. 

Forthwith  I  set 
off  with  the  in- 
spector for  my 
bungalow,  fol- 
lowed by  an  ex- 
cited crowd.  One 
of  the  shutters 
was  broken  and 
the  window  open. 
I  looked  in,  but 
it  was  too  dark 
inside  to  see 
anything,  as  all 
the  windows  were 
shuttered  up. 
Accordingly  I 
went  round  to  the 
yard.  Directly 
my  bearer  opened 
the  door  I  at 
once  saw  that 
something  was 
wrong,  as  all  the 
animals  were  in 
a  high  stale  of 
excitement  and 
began  howling 
and   growling 

when  I  went  in  -a  thing  they  had  never 
done  before.  After  I  had  ([uieted  them  some- 
what I  unlocked  the  house  door  and  threw 
it  open,  calling  ''Jack,  Jack,"  as  I  always  did 
when  going  in. 

When  I  got  inside  I  saw  the  python  coiled 
up  on  his  box  beside  the  window,  and  every- 
thing appeared  as  usual.  l?ut  what  was  that 
curious  object  on  the  floor  ?  Surely  it  could 
not  be  a  man,  that  long,  thin,  brown  thing? 

Hut  it  was.  It  was  a  native,  naked  save  for  a 
loin-cloth,  and  with   his   body  greased   all   over. 


THE    AWKUI.   COII.S    WEKK   AKilUND    HIM 


He  was  stone  dead.  His  bare  linibs  and  greasy 
skin  had  not  baved  him  from  my  silent  guardian, 
the  sinuous  Jack.  A  brief  examination  ol 
the  room  told  the  whole  story  of  the  strange 
tragedy  which  had  been  enacted  in  my  little 
bungalow. 

The  robber  who  was  identified  as  the  leader 
of  a  gang  of  dacoits  who  had  been  ravaging  the 
neighbourhood  for  some  time  past — had  obtained 
access  to  till-  room  bv  filing  <jff  the  catch  of  the 

shutter.  The 
noise  thus  made 
probably  woke 
Jack  up,  for  he 
was  very  suscep- 
tible to  sound 
and  would  listen 
for  hours  with 
evident  pleasure 
when  I  used  to 
play  the  accor- 
dion. All  un- 
aware of  the 
watcher  within, 
the  dacoit  ne.xt 
took  out  a  pane 
of  glass  and  un- 
fastened the  win- 
dow. Then  he 
opened  it  and 
stepped  inside, 
no  doubt  pleased 
at  the  ease  with 
which  he  had 
gained  admit- 
tance.  Poor  fool ! 
he  did  not  notice 
that  shining  thick 
rope  gradually 
moving  nearer  to 
him,  or  see  that 
flat  h  e  a  d  a  n  d 
those  two  little 
star-like  eyes 
coming  close  to 
him,  as  the  irri- 
tated snake  ex- 
amined the  intruder.  Nor  did  he  know  that 
if  he  could  have  said  "Jack"  just  then  it 
might  have  saved  his  life.  But  of  all  these 
things  he  was  ignorant,  and  exulting  in  the 
prosfject  of  loot  the  greasy  scoundrel  went 
forward  to  his  doom. 

It  came  swift  and  horrible.  There  was  a 
rushing  sound  in  the  darkness,  a  sharp  hiss  like 
that  of  an  angry  goose,  only  much  louder,  and 
the  awful  coils  were  arounil  him.  I  have  seen 
Jack  kill  goats  -pythons  will  not  touch  anything 
dead — and    I    know    the    lightning    rush    with 


492 


THE   WIDE    WO'-' 
s  nuisi  have  seized 


xLl) 


MAOAZINE. 


which  those  awful,  shmy  coi 
the  robber. 

Too  late  the  poor  wretch  realized  the  awful 
fate  which  had  come  upon  him,  and  as  he  felt 
those  coils  tighten  round  him,  gripping  him  like 
steel,  he  dragged 
out  his  knife  in  a 
frenzy  of  despair, 
while  his  screams 
rent  the  air  His 
comrades  waitmg 
outside  must 
have  heard  those 
terrible  cries  from 
inside  the  bunga- 
low, and  they  re- 
alized that  their 
comrade  was  in 
dire  distress. 
Forthwith  they 
bolted  —  for  all 
dacoits  are  cow- 
ards when  face  to 
face  with  an  un- 
known danger. 
Their  fellow-rob- 
ber was  left  to  his 
fate.  Once  Jack 
had  seized  his 
victim  and  got  his 
coils  round  and 
his  teeth  fixed,  he 
would  have  had 
to  be  shot  or  cut 
in  two  before  he 
would  let  go  his 
prey. 

And  so  the 
crafty  plunderer 
of  homesteads, 
the  dread  of  the 
district,  met  his 
death.  After  kill- 
ing him  Jack, 
not  being  hungry, 
left  him  as  we  found 
in  his  body  broken 
terrible  coils. 


Having  given  my  faithful  friend  a 
milk,   I  examined   him  to   see   if  he 
wounded  at  all  by  the  dacoit's  knife, 
one    cut,    not     very    serious,    about 
from    his    head  —  a    scratch    which 


all  right  in  a 


No.  /2 

2oolotjical  (G.iikn, 

(!:.ilcutta. 

1 

5o 

.^-    ^t-^ti^ac^ 

£-^'»-. 

&, 

W.«i\(X  iw.sU«clici\.\  l1lo,^ll 

Ui<  ((l)kono^fl.^.u 

^oMwniUK 

j.\     lliJ    (iiuv\ma(.mt.iil     cl     llii    %y\tx\ 

0     (ici\)(     Ui( 

Iiaicu 

^      lo 

M,  iiniu'iiliu 

UK  k/t(ilil   c     )!  -   iomaiio.ii  aiuin\ici»wA  tu  Ik 

r\!,rt 

.\ul< 

>iiu\   \c   icmt\\   lo   ni.'u    Viim ■  Uio'iiLs   Iw  aiom    tciAxll:vilk:v\. 

-^ 

U   loAif   I  Ik   llamoai^  \o    k 

»x 

A 

>^...^Z^- 

e.«--t-> 

-■^    ^'  *" .  V 

(i^i3mc\i\\ii    Ojo.'10'.ii 

"O 

^oltuU.i. 

%u  \l,. 

r?'^  im^^  «-^^/6y/ 

, 

1  11  r      I.1-.  1  1  \:K 


IKUM    THE   ZOOLOGICAL   GARDEM,    CALCUTTA,    TO   MR.   liAKTLETT 
ACKNO\VLEU';iNG   THE    KECEM'T   OK   THE    PYTHON. 


him     with    every 
and    crushed     by 


hone 
those 


1    knew 

have   a 

he   is   there 


he   would 
nice   easy 


lile. 


saucer  of 

had   been 

I   found 

a      yard 

would    be 

dav 

or  two. 

The  native 
police  were  very 
much  impressed 
by  the  tragedy, 
and  told  me 
I  must  get  rid 
of  Jack,  as  he 
was  dangerous. 
"  No,"  said  the 
inspector,  "if 
everybody  kept 
such  good  watch- 
dogs  as  the 
python  h  a  s 
proved,  th  e 
dacoits  would 
have  a  very  hard 
time  of  it." 

Needless  to 
say  my  bungalow 
was  never  broken 
into  again,  and 
as  I  abandoned 
my  intention  of 
selling  him. 
Jack  remained 
with  me  till  1 
left  India  in 
1897.  Then,  to 
ni  y  sorrow,  I 
had  to  [)art  wilii 
him ;  as  I  could 
not  convciiicnlly 
bring  him  home, 
I  gave  him  to 
the  Zoological 
(}  a  r  d  e  n  at 
Calcutta,  where 
well  looked  after  and 
So    far    as    I    know, 


still. 


ENIKV    AT    THE    HACK    OF    THE    AIIOVE    LETTER. 


A    MYSTERIOUS    MISSION. 


l!\     J.     I-.     I'MIKKSON. 

An  out-of-the-way  experience  which  befell  the  author  one  night  in  Constantinople.  He  was  accosted  by 
an  Armenian  who  with  infinite  secrecy  conductetl  him  to  a  mysterious  house,  where  he  saw  and  heard 
curious  things.  Finally  he  consented  to  deliver  a  parcel  of  papers  for  ihe  conspirators  for  such  the 
occupants  of  the  house  were     and  in  the  fulfilment  of  his  mission  passed  through  some  exciting  experiences. 


s  a  single  star 


1I.\|)  loiiiid  a  scat,  my  Icct  just 
aliovc  the  gciUlu  ripple  of  the  blue 
iSosphoriis,  down  the  upper  part  of 
whirh  ni!j;ht  was  slowly  creeping. 
Over  the  eastern  hilh 
bespoke  the  end  of  day. 

Suddenly  a  hand  was  laid  on  my  shoulder, 
whilst  a  low  voice  said,  in  curiously  masterful 
tones,  "'  What  you  sit  there  for  ?  You  want  to 
die  ?  " 

Somewhat  startled,  I  glanced  up,  and  in  the 
dusk  dimly  discerned  an  Armeniati.  Something 
about  him  seemed  familiar,  and 
further  scrutiny  proved  him  to 
be  one  of  the  spectators  to  a 
set-to  wiiich  I  had  with  a  brawny 
Turk  that  day  in  Stamboul 
bazaar.  The  Armenian  sug- 
gested that  my  late  opponent 
might  chance  along  and  push 
me  into  the  Bosphorus.  1  rose 
to  my  feet,  venting  an  English 
lad's  careless  boast. 

"  You  like  to  learn  some  new 
thing  ? "    said    the    Armenian, 
suddenly.     A  touch  of  mystery 
in  his  manner  seemed  to  pvo- 
mise  something  rare  and  good, 
so    I  readily  answered   •'  Yes.'" 
He  was  e(|ually  laconic. 
"  Come,"  he  said,  and 
together  we  set  off  up 
the    side    of    the   Bos- 
[)horus. 

The  night,  the  occa- 
sion, the  strange  man 
at  my  side,  a  curious, 
undefinable  something 
springing  from  yet  con- 
necting all  three,  the 
moon-shimmered    blue 

waters  with  here  and  there  a  gliding  caique,  and 
the  occasional  |)assing  of  men  in  ])ictures(iue 
garb,  all  blended  in  what  was  to  me  the  very 
essence  of  witchery.  Our  march  was  a  silent 
one,  until  my  companion  half-whis|)eringly  bade 
me  follow  him  without  appearing  to  be  with  hin). 

At  length  we  were  treading  an  ill-lighted 
thoroughfare,  on  to  which  abutted  the  walled-in 
premi.ses  of  various  houses.*  My  guide  pauseil 
exactly    under   an    apology    for   a   street   lami>, 

'  It  is  not  my  inlvntion  to  say  here  exactly  where  that  street  is 
Mtuatctl.  My  symraihiis  are  too  much  with  tho^e  to  whum  I 
chanced  to  he  of  service  and  with  the  Vouii..;  Turk  party  to  give 
pos^ihle  clues  to  the  Sultan's  secret  agents. 


surreptitiously  beck(jned  me  forward,  looked  at 
his  watch,  and  nuittered  "Oood!"  The  next 
moment  I  found  my  hand  in  his  soft,  firm 
grasp.  We  were  going  forward,  close  to  the 
irregular  walls  adjoining  the  sidewalk,  he  whis- 
pering, "  .Mind  nothing  you  see — go  with  me, 
and  say  no  word  till  I  speak  to  you." 

Barely  had  he  finished  his  injunction  when 
my  companion  stepped  directly  into  an  open 
doorway  on  his  right,  quietly  drawing  me  with 
him.  The  door  closed  behind  us,  and  bolts 
were    almost    silently    shot    into    their    sockets. 


A  si;t-ii)  wrrii  a  urawnv  tl'kk  in  sta.muoul  iiazaar. 


We  were  in  the  absolute  darkness  thrown  by 
the  high  wall  separating  us  from  the  street. 
Someone  brushed  past  me.  I  heard  footsteps 
preceding  us.  My  blood  began  to  flow  more 
cpiickly,  my  heart  to  beat  as  though  it  had  been 
suildenly  weighted.  Questions  trod  on  each 
other's  heels  through  my  head  as  to  the  wisdom 
of  my  bearing  this  peculiar  stranger  such  un- 
(liiestioning  company.  \Vith  these  ran  a  strong 
felling  that  love  of  discovery  had  now  carried 
me  into  a  truly  foolish  action.  Incidentally,  I 
felt  that  I  woulil  give  much  for  a  good  revolver. 
'l'he.se   thoughts   were   speedily  cut   short    by 


4;4 


'I'lII-:     \\l\)i:    WORLD     MACAZINK. 


llie  Armenian,  still  with  uiy  hand  in  his,  moving 
forward  afttr  the  unseen  one.  When  a  second 
pair  of  folding-doors  had  swung  to  behind  us, 
still  in  darkness,  we  were  led  around  a  heavy 
arras  into  a  lighted  corridor,  where  my  hand 
was  released.  At  this  point  I  discovered  our 
guide  to  be  a  Turk  in  dress,  but  when  he 
opened  his  mouth  I  knew  at  once  thai  he  was 
an  Irishman. 

"The  misthress  awaits  you,  sir,"  said  he, 
quietly,  to  the  Armenian,  giving  nie  only  a 
passing  glance. 

We  went  forward  and  the  Irish-Turk  retreated. 
I  began  to  cast  about  me  for  the  usual  fictional 
elements  of  an  Eastern  household — eunuchs 
appearing  at  the  clap  of  hands  as  if  from 
nowhere,  guards  with  strangling-cloths,  and 
other  properties  of  the  novelist.  The  lack  of 
these  was  making  me  doubt  my  whereabouts, 
when  the  Armenian  suddenly  drew  aside  a  great 
curtain.  I  was  in  part  |)ushed,  in  part  led  past 
it,  into  a  room  so  brilliantly  lighted  that  my 
eyes  were  quite  dazzled.  AMiiist  shading  them 
1  heard  a  low,  pleased  cry  in  a  familiar  feniinine 
voice.  My  hands  fell,  and  I  stood  face  to  face 
with  a  Turkish  young  lady  I  had  met  in  the 
bazaar  that  morning;  it  was  tlie  scrutiny  I  paid 
her  which  had  led  to 
the  aforesaid  .set-to 
with  a  burly  Turk. 
Now  she  wore  no 
yashmak  over  the 
face  I  had  rightly 
guessed  to  be  hand- 
some. 'I'hat  she  was 
glad  at  seeing  me 
again  her  tones  gave 
sufficient  proof  as, 
with  hands  out,  she 
smilingly  said,  in 
broken  English, 
"  How  you  come 
here  ?  " 

"With  him,"  I 
replied,  simply,  nod- 
dingat  thcArmenian. 
lortiiwith  she  began 
to  question  me  as  to 
whether  or  not  I  had 
ntel  that  big  Turk 
since  the  morning, 
and  how  I  came  to 
be  here  in  company 
with  the  Armenian  ; 
who  had  witnessed 
the  scrimmage  and 
yet  made  iif)  acknow- 
ledgment at  the  tin)e 
that  he  knew  her. 


lo 


s.\ 


MISU  I  I-.-.      I  Id-.      I  HIM, 
MV   CLOT 


Much  thai  followed  1  pass  over  as  of  no 
importance.  For  some  time  I  had  been  talk- 
mg  more  or  less  aimlessly  to  the  Armenian  and 
to  the  "  bazaar''  lady's  mistress — a  most  richly- 
attired  and  beautiful  being  who  reclined  on  a 
sumptuous  divan  at  the  farther  end  of  the 
apartment  — •  when  I  suddenly  became  keenly 
interested  in  the  conversation.  They  were 
arranging  for  me  to  carry  a  small  parcel  to  a 
place  in  Pera,  my  reward  for  the  service  to  be 
fifty  piastres.  Tiiis  sum  did  not  represent  their 
meanness,  but  their  wisdom  in  not  arousing  my 
suspicions  as  to  the  importance  of  the  parcel. 
However,  whilst  they  talked  I  drew  my  own 
conclusions,  and  decided  that  there  was  more  in 
the  affair  than  appeared  on  its  surface.  If  not, 
wiiy  had  I — an  obscure  English  sailor-iad — been 
brought  so  stealthily  to  this  mysterious  house  by 
night?  So  I  spoke  out  boldly.  If  I  was  to 
carry  their  parcel,  I  said,  I  wanted  five  hundred 
l)iastres.  This  ultimatum  rather  staggered  them. 
They  asked  my  reasons  for  demanding  so  large 
a  sum,  pretending  to  smile.  I  stated  my  sus- 
picions bluntly,  avowing  my  belief  that  the  parcel 
contained  dangerous  or  treasonable  matter. 

l''inally  we  came  to  an  arrangement.      I   was 
to  carry  the  parcel  straight  to  its  destination,  to 

give  no  one  any  ink- 
ling of  it,  and  guard 
it  with  my  life  until 
delivered;  the  money 
to  be  paid  on  my 
delivering  the  parcel. 
\\'ithiii    ten    minutes 
the  thing   had   been 
strapped   fast    under 
ni)-  clothing  ;  a  pass- 
\\()\([  was  given  me, 
a  n  d    m  y  i  n  s  u  1  a  r 
tongue    coached    in 
tile  use  of  it.     Then 
a  slip  of  paper  was 
iianded  to  me,  bear- 
ing  half-  a  -  dozen 
curious     signs,     and 
the  .Armenian  and  I 
were   on    our  way 
to    tiie    portal    by 
which  we  had  en- 
tered this   strange 
iiouse.      He    wiiis- 
pered  cautions  as  to 
my  conduct  whilst  in 
j)Ossession   of  the 
parcel,  and  exhorted 
me  to  keep  a  sliarj) 
"  "  look  -  out   for    any 

chance    watchers    of 

IIAI>    llhEN    STKAI'I'Kli    1-AST    UNIJEK  ^  ,,,, 

iiiNG."  my  movements.    1  lie 


A     M\Sli:i<l()LS     Ml.^.^luN. 


495 


"lady  of  the  bazaar"  bore  us  company  as  far  as 
the  lust  daik  nujin.  'riare  she  sli[)ped  into  my 
hand  what  I  altcruards  discovered  to  be  a  silken 
purse  containing  two  haU-Hra  notes  on  the 
OltonKin    IJank  anil  ten  silver  coins. 

But  1  was  not  destined  to  leave  the  house  so 
easily  as  I  had  entered  it.  On  our  way  out  I 
looked  for  that  quaint  Turk  from  the  Kmerald 
Isle,  but  saw  nothing  of  him  until  we  drew  near 
the  outer  doorway.  Then  he  suddenly  appeared 
out  of  tlie  darkness.  The  Armenian  paused, 
checking  me  by  his  hold  on  my  hand,  and 
whis[)cred  in  English,  "■  Any  one  '  there, 
Mustaph?' 

**  Oh,'  thought  I,  •■  Turkish  even  to  the 
name." 

The  door-keeper's  reply  was  tiuit  a  couple  of 
suspicious-looking  persons  were  lurking  outside. 
My  companion  cautioned  me  to  be  quiet  as  tile 
grave,  then  advanced  and  carefully  examined 
the  fastenings  of  the  door.  Mustaph  remained 
by  me.  A  minute  later  I  dimly  discerned  the 
Armenian's  head  amongst  the  foliage  of  a  tree 
some  eight  or  ten  feet  to  the  right  of  the  door- 
way, just  where  the  high  wall  cut  the  poverty- 
stricken  ligiu  of  the  street.  Kut  for  a  slight 
rustling  of  the  leaves  in  the  night  breeze,  not  a 
sound  was  to  be  heard. 

When  undertaking  my  curious  mission  I  had 
not  thought  of  serious  trouble  in  connection 
with  the  business,  but  had  looked  on  deliver- 
ing the  parcel  as  a  simple  certainty.  Now  I 
began  to  imagine  all  sorts  of  hindrances  and 
happenings,  and  probably  a  calamitous  termina- 
tion to  the  whole  affair,  ending  in  my  lifeless 
body  being  found  floating  in  the  Bos'phorus. 
Regret  at  embarking  on  such  a  risky  enterprise 
was  gradually  filling  my  mind,  when  I  felt  the 
Armenian  at  my  sleeve.  He  led  me  to  a  ladder 
by  the  wall,  gave  me  a  small  pair  of  very 
powerful  night-glasses,  and  motioned  me  to 
ascend,  following  closely  at  my  heels.  When 
perched  as  he  had  been,  I  was  directed  to 
examine  two  stationary  figures  through  the 
glasses.  They  were  on  the  ()[)|)osite  side  of  the 
street,  one  about  fifty  yards  to  our  right,  the 
other  the  same  distance  to  tiie  left.  On 
descending  I  was  bidden  to  bear  the  watchers 
in  mind,  their  dress  and  size,  and  keep  clear 
of  them  wherever  I  chanced  to  see  them,  lest 
they  were  spies.  This  convinced  me  once  for 
all  of  the  treasonable  and  dangerous  nature  oi 
my  task.  Still,  I  had  pledged  myself  to  carry 
the  matter  tiirough,  and  the  five  hundred 
piastres  were  something  of  a  spur  to  the  goal. 

Presently  Mustaph  came  hurrying  towards  us, 
agog  with  suppressed  excitement.  There  was 
something  so  unwarrantably  wrong  in  front  of 
the    house  — he    iiad    evidently    been     indoors 


during  our  vigil  up  the  ladder — that  his  brogue 
grew  perceptibly  thii  k  wiiilst  he  whispered  to 
the  Armenian.  The  latter  ([uickly  decided  that 
the  house  was  no  suitable  place  for  me.  I  was 
to  be  let  out  on  the  instant,  and  so  eager  to  get 
clear  of  it  was  I  that  1  temporarily  forgot  the 
incriminating  thing  u[)on  me. 

The  Armenian  told  me  he  would  go  to  the 
left,  while  I  went  off  in  the  opposite  direction. 
I  was  to  creep  slowly  and  quietly  along  by  the 
wall,  so  that  watching  eyes  across  the  street 
would  not  perceive  my  movements  in  the  in- 
tense darkness.  Then,  when  some  distance  off, 
I  was  to  walk  away  like  an  ordinary  pedestrian  ; 
but  to  be  especially  careful  to  e\ade  the 
approach  of  any  person,  till  I  reached  a  main 
thoroughfare. 

With  infinite  care  Mustaph  withdrew  the 
bolts,  while  the  Arnienian  watched  like  a  cat 
from  the  top  of  the  ladder.  I  buttoned  my 
reefer  jacket  and  turned  up  its  collar  to  hide 
the  white  collar  beneath. 

Slowly — so  slowly  that  no  watcher  should  see 
it  moving — Mustaph  drew  the  door  inwanls. 
I  stepped  through  the  aperture,  stood  flat 
against  the  outside  of  the  wall,  and  the  door 
closed  behind  me.  I  could  not  hear  the 
fastenings  being  replaced,  but  in  imagination 
saw  the  pseudo-Turk  securing  them.  Now,  if 
the  spies  were  coming,  I  stood  alone  !  My 
breath  came  long  and  laboured.  I  felt  the 
Armenian  straining  to  see  me  over  the  to[) 
of  the  wall,  yet  anxious  not  to  be  seen  him- 
self. Why  did  he  not  come  forth  ?  U'as  he 
cheating  me  about  his  going  the  other  way  ? 
Or  was  the  whole  business  a  dream  ?  What 
had  I  done?  I  was  in  all  probability  risking 
my  life  for  a  beggarly  five  pounds  four  shillings 
and  twopence  I  A  pretty  show  of  precocious 
bravado  I  I,  a  humble  young  English  sailor, 
abetting  some  conspiracy  to  overthrow  the 
Oovernment  or  to  kill  the  Sultan  —  for  that 
some  such  scheme  was  afoot  I  felt  morally 
certain  from  the  manner  and  language  of  my 
mysterious  employers. 

Furtively  my  scared  glance  flashed  from  right 
to  left  and  back.  Not  a  soul  could  I  see,  yet 
a  quaking  seized  me,  and  I  momentarily 
expected  to  be  pounced  upon.  N\'hy  had  I 
been  fool  enough  to  join  the  miserable,  idiotic 
business  ?  Stay  !  I  could  drop  the  wretched 
thing  and  so  be  safe  if  taken  and  searched. 
My  right  hand  moved  to  the  buttons  of  my 
coat,  then  British  instincts  sent  it  back  in 
shame.  No  '.  I  had  given  my  word  to  do  the 
thing,  and  I  would  go  through  with  it. 

Probably  I  had  stood  against  the  wall  a 
couple  of  minutes,  though  it  seemed  as  many 
hours.     I'orgetful  of  the  Armenian,  I  now  began 


496 


THE    WIDE    WORM)    MAGAZINE. 


to  move  off  as  he  had  bidden  mc,  thinking  the 
while  what  my  tactics  should  be  if  interrupted. 
Ere  twenty  yards  were  covered  I  had  decided 
on  as  many  modes  of  repulsing  that  number  of 
different  attacks.  Instead  of  continually  sweep- 
ing the  open  space  with  my  glance,  I  spent  a 
second  or  so  in  gazing  behind,-  then  ahead. 
Thus  it  was  that  I  came  to  turn  my  face  forward 
and  abruptly  found  a  Turk  only  some  six  yards 
from  me.  He  was  quietly  approaching  slant- 
wise from  the  other  side  of  the  street.  Instantly 
my  thoughts  connected  him  with  the  watcher 
whom  I  had  seen  in  that  direction.  He  was 
coming  to  me  so,  I  considered,  in  order  to  get 
a  hand  on  me  before  I  could  bolt.  How  could 
I  frustrate  this  intention — by  a  dash  forward  or 
a  bolt  the  other  way  ?  Then  I  remembered  his 
fellow-spy  in  my  rear.     What  was  lie  doing  ? 

By  this  time  the 
man  was  not  more 
than  three  yards 
away,  and  I  saw 
that  he  was  cer- 
tainly watching  me 
closely.  A  step  to 
his  left  and  he 
could  have  barred 
my  path  between 
himself  and  the 
wall.  'I'o  make  for 
the  middle  of  the 
thorough f;ire  would 
have  put  me  at  a 
di.sadvantage,  by 
forcing  me  to 
<louble  him.  I 
must  act.  My  foot 
fouled  with  a  stone 
the  size  of  a  half 
brick ;  in  a  moment 
it  was  in  my  hand 
■the  next  it  went 
whizzing  against 
the  new  -  comer's 
face  ! 

Like  a  rat  before 
the  certain  fumes 
of  sulphur  I   leapt 

forward,  the  Turk  spluttering  a  yell  of  pain 
as  an  acronipaniment.  On,  on  on  up  the 
short  inclined  street  I  tore,  recollecting  that 
I  must  take  the  first  turn  on  my  right  and  that 
it  was  an  abruptly  downhill  one.  Round  the 
corner  I  dashed,  flying  like  a  human  ball 
between  two  half-tipsy  Turkish  soldiers  stagger- 
ing u[)  the  hill  arm  in  arm.  My  force  parted 
them  abruptly,  sending  both  to  earth.  I  fell 
down,  too,  cutting  both  my  hands  and  grazing 
the  side  of  my  jaw  on  the  rough  roadway.     I 


IT    WKNT    WHIZ/ING    AfiA  1 


was  up  and  away,  however,  as  if  from  a  catapult, 
long  before  the  sprawling  warriors  thought  of 
rising. 

On  passing  the  end  of  the  street  on  to  wliiih 
fronted  the  house  wtience  I  had  come,  a  tumult 
some  way  down  it  attracted  my  attention.  "  The 
police  have  entered  the  house,"  I  thought. 
Naturally  I  needed  no  spur  to  get  clear  of  the 
locality,  yet  I  went  the  faster  now  that  the 
reality  of  my  peril  was  coming  home  to  me. 
Moreover,  a  hurried  backward  glance,  just  as  I 
turned  a  bend  in  the  street,  showed  me  dimly 
the  man  at  whom  I  had  thrown  the  stone,  in  hot 
altercation  with  the  two  soldiers.  They  seemed 
to  have  taken  him  for  the  man  who  had  knocked 
them  down  and  were  preparing  to  retaliate  in 
their  own  way.  For  this  I  was  duly  thankful, 
knowing    that    if    they    but    detained    him    five 

minutes  I  should 
then  be  well  out  of 
his  reach  —  if  no 
other  obstacles 
arose. 

Luckily  for  me 
pedestrians  were 
then  rare,  and 
riders  rarer,  in  tliat 
part  of  (lO- 
lata.  Away 
below  I 
could  see 
the  moon- 
light Lilint- 
ing  on  the 
top  of  the 
Sul  tan's 
w  h  i  t  e 
palace  and 
shining  on 
llie  gilded 
crescents 
surmount- 
i  n  g  the 
very  tall 
minarets 
of  his  ad- 
j  a  c  e  n  t 
m  o  s  q  u  e . 
As  my  feet  flew  over  the  ground  and  silence 
marked  the  way  behind  I  began  to  think  of  the 
wisdom  of  slackening  my  pace  lest  I  should 
draw  undesired  attention  from  some  passer-by. 
1  Icnce  I  slowed  down,  taking  care,  however,  to 
make  good  headway  and  to  keep  in  the  shadow 
as  much  as  possible. 

Just  after  making  the  fifth  turning  I  came  to 
a  hat  shop.  It  was  open,  for  the  night  was  still 
young,  and  I  was  nearing  the  main  thorough- 
fare.     My  jacket   c(jll;ir   had    now   been   turned 


A     MWsll.KlOL'S     MISSION. 


vn 


back  to  its  i)ro|KT  place.  Here,  llunii^ht  I,  is 
an  oppoituiiity  to  make  a  sligln  change  in  my 
ai)pearance  and  so  the  better  evade  detection. 
In  a  minute  the  peak  was  torn  from  my  naval 
cap,  and  a  Uttle  pulHng  about  turned  it  into  a 
kind  of  skull-cap.  This  I  did  so  as  to  obviate 
the  possibility  of  the  shopman  afterwards  saying 
that  a  youth  with  such  and  such  head-gear 
bought  a  hat  on  this  particular  evening.  First 
I  peeped  into  the  shop  to  see  that  no  other 
customers  were  there  to  detain  me.  Xone  were 
there,  and  so  I  entered, 
picked  a  French  straw 
hat  from  the  counter, 
tried  it  on,  paid  for  it, 
and  was  away  with  it  ere 
five  minutes  had  passed. 
Yet  I  had  been  careful 
not  to  seem  in  a  hurry. 
Ten  yards  from  the  shop 
my  despoiled  cap  was 
thrown  into  a  dark 
corner,  and  the  straw  hat 
took  its  place.  On  turn- 
ing this  corner,  a  little 
off  the  main  street,  some- 
one jostled  against  me. 
Sideways  I  sprang,  like 
a  cat  at  the  growl  of  an 
unsuspected  dog.  My 
surprise  can  be  guessed, 
for  the  feeble  light  of  the 
adjacent  lamps  showed 
me  the  unmistakable 
figure  of  that  mysterious 
Armenian  I  Without 
appearing  to  see  or  know 
me,  his  face  half  averted, 
but  with  the  askant  gaze 
of  those  deep,  keen  eyes 
on  me,  he  made  a  motion 
which  I  read  as  meaning  '^fewL 

— "  Silence  '.  " 

Amazement  held   me 
perfectly  still.     Queries, 

surmises,  and  wonderment  were  slam])eding  in 
my  silly  head.  Not  for  a  second  did  my  late 
companion  pause,  nor  make  the  slightest  change 
in  his  slow,  careless  gait.  To  me  he  made  a 
scarcely  perceptible  move  of  impatience  and 
command.  That  peculiar,  subtle,  restrained 
mastership  which  had  so  characterized  him 
when  he  bade  me  ft)llow  him  at  the  edge  ot 
the  Bosphorus,  which  had  fallen  from  him  like  a 
silent  cloak-in  the  house  of  the  Turkish  lady,  was 
here  more  in  evidence  than  ever.  Moving  solely 
under  the  influence  of  his  gesture,  I  crossed 
behind  him,  wondering  dumbly  if  I  was  the 
dupe  of  some  plot,  the  butt  of  a  tremendous  joke. 

Vol.  X.-63. 


Once  free  of  his  magnetic  e)es  1  leil  lo  a.scer- 
tain  if  the  [parcel  was  in  its  place.  Yes,  it  was, 
and  my  movements  grew  ciuicker.  I'resently  I 
entered  the  main  street  of  that  jiart  of  Oalata. 
my  thoughts  now  moving  with  mcjre  Iree- 
dom.  A  bright  idea  came  to  me ;  I  would 
charter  the  Turkish  equivalent  of  a  fly,  be 
driven  to  the  British  Embassy,  little  more  than 
a  stone's  throw  from  the  destination  of  the 
uncomfortable  package,  alight  there,  walk  to  the 
place  indicated,   and  receive  my  money  before 

the  night  passed.  At 
once  the  thought  was 
put  into  action,  ^\"hat 
a  pleasing  sensation  it 
was,  being  whirled  away 
towards  the  Pera  tunnel ! 
Still  keeping  a  sharp 
look  -  out  for  possible 
opponents  to  my  liberty, 
I  took  the  parcel  from 
ils  hiding-place,  put  it 
into  the  more  handy 
receptacle  of  an  inside 
pocket,  and  then  made 
a  careful  examination  of 

/^^.^  the  silken  purse  and  its 

j^-'  contents. 

>S^  On  alighting  in  front 

f^'  of  the  Embassy  I  handed 

t;  my  Greek  driver  two  of 

^^^  the  coins  from  the  purse, 

whereat  he  appeared 
especially  satisfied,  and 
drove  away.  ^^  hilst  his 
gaze  was  on  me  I  moved 
slowly  towards  the  Em- 
bassy, keeping  my  head 
bowed  so  that  the  brim 
of  my  new  hat  should 
shadow  my  face.  The 
moment  he  had  driven 
off  I  halted,  seemed  to 
be  debating  something, 
then  turned'  to  stride 
away — as  if  my  mind  had  changed  -and  was 
almost  knocked  down  by  the  Armenian  coming 
from  the  direction  I  was  about  to  take  !  An 
involuntary  ejaculation  leaped  to  my  tongue  ;  but 
his  Hashing  eyes  stopped  it  at  the  .second  word. 
His  right  fingers,  hanging  downwards,  moved 
spasmodically" towards  The  rear.  In  Turkish  he 
apologized  for  the  collision  and  then  passed 
on,  as  any  stranger  might.  The  meeting  had 
perhaps  occupied  twenty  seconds,  not  more. 
Evidently,  in  order  that  I  should  properly 
deliver  the  |)ackage,  he  was  shadowing  me. 
"  How  important  these  papers  must  be,"  I 
thought,  "  when    the  plotters  dare  not  deliver 


I  I 


'sideways  I  SI'RANC,  I  IKE 

A  CAT  AT  THE   f.ROWl,  Ol' 

A.N  U.SSUSrECTEII  DOC." 


4yS 


'I'HE     WIDl-:     WURLU     MAGAZINE. 


them,  and  yet  they  are  in  such  a  feverish  state 
of  anxiety  about  them  ! "  Now  I  felt  the 
importance  of  tlMS  mission  and  my  situation 
more  than  ever.  The  presence  of  the  Embassy, 
however,  gave  me  new  assurance.  The  wanderer 
was  almost  on  his  native  soil,  I  thought,  for  who 
dare  hurt  a  Britisher  with  the  Union  Jack  flying 
over  him  ? 

In  a  very  short  time  the  well-described  shop, 
where  I  was  to  deliver  the  parcel,  was  found 
A  careful  reconnaissance  proved  it  bare  of 
customers.  The  quiet  street  was  almost  as 
much  to  rny  liking,  though  I  had  not  the  least 
doubt  that  the  Armenian  was  watching  me 
from  some  post  of  vantage.  I  entered 
the  place,  instantly  finding  myself  eye 
to  eye  with  a  keen- 
featured,  thick-set 
Turk.  I  at  once  knew 
him  to  be  the  one 
whom  I  sought,  so  well 
had  he  been  described 
to  me.  At  my  entrance 
he  had  arisen  from  a 
low  seat  behind  the 
counter.  Quickly  and 
quietly  I  drew  near 
and  spoke  the  pass- 
word in  a  low  voice. 

He  started  back  just 
for  a  Second,  his  saffron 
face  paling,  and  his 
bright  eyes  flashing 
looks  from  me  to  the 
doorway,  and  then 
back  again.  Ne.\t  he 
leaned  e|agerly  and 
fearingly  forward, 
spoke  the  word  I  had 
been  taught  to  listen 
for,  and  put  out  his 
iiand.  'I'hereupon,  act- 
ing on  my  instructions, 
I  placed  the  slip  of 
paper  bearing  the 
cabalistic  marks  in  his 
p.ilm.  He  glanced  at 
it,  and  then  held  it  in 
a  gas-jet  whilst  re[)eat-  nI 

ing    the  counter-word.      "  mk  glanced  at  it,  and  then 

At'lill    his    Ivind    mine  "    "    ^  <;a!>-JET  whilst  rehea 

nK.iiii   ins  nana  came  the  countkk-w»kd.  • 

forward. 

"  What  do  you  want  ?"  I  whispered. 

"  The  papers,"  answered  he,  in  English  that 
bore  but  a  slight  foreign  accent.  Then,  whilst  I 
dwelt  on  the  word  papers,  he  added,  "  Oh,  you 
want  five  lira  ?  " 

"'I'en,"  I  remarked,  soltly,  taking  a  step 
Lackw.irds,  so  as   to   be   nearer   the  outlet.     A 


powerful  dislike  to  him  had  sprung  up  in  me, 
along  with  a  fuller  realization  of  the  transaction. 
\Vhy  should  1  endanger  my  life  in  this  fellow's 
interest  and  not  be  paid  for  it  ?  Here  there 
was  not  the  witchery  of  beauty  nor  the  mys- 
terious magnetism  of  subtle  mastery,  which  the 
Turkish  beauty  and  the  Armenian  had  exer- 
cised over  me — only  a  repulsive,  ghoulish 
expression  on  a  face  that  was  painful  to  look  at. 
"  But  you  agreed  to  bring  them  here  for 
five  hundred  piastres,"  was  the  low  reply,  his 
eyes  glinting  passion. 

"  For  them,  yes  ;  but  for  iw/,  no."     I  do  not 
quite  know  now  what  the  distinction  was  in  my 

mind  ;  I  only  know  it 
existed. 

"  Well,  1  shall  give 
vou  no  more." 

"All  right,  the  Turk- 
ish (lovernment  will," 
I  answered,  airily, 
backing  with  care  and 
inwardly  praying  that 
no  confederate  of  his 
was  outride  to  hear 
me. 

"  Where  are  you 
going  ?  "  he  hissed,  yet 
I  detected  a  ring  of 
fear  in  his  voice. 

"To  the  English 
Embassy,"  said  I,  with 
all  the  coolness  at  my 
command,  "  where 
ihey  will  give  me  an 
escort  to  the  proper 
authorities.''  I  had  no 
nK)re  real  intention  of 
going  there  than  of 
flying  ! 

"Come    back!' 

This  came  in' a  louder 

tone,    with     some    evidence    of 

terror  and  a  movement  as  if  he 

would  spring  after  me. 

"  Yes,  for  the  ten  lira — slay 
there  !  The  instant  you  come 
over  that  counter  I  will  shout  'A  con- 
spiracy I '  through  the  street."  Experience 
had  taught  me  the  fondness  of  Asiatics  and 
Latins  for  knives.  Besides,  he  was  much 
heavier  than  myself,  and  I  was  unarmed. 
"  ('ome   in,  then." 

His  softer  tone  reassured  me.  I  took  a  step 
forward,  saying,  "  Now,  quick,  the  thousand 
piastres  before  a  customer  comes  in,  or  you 
may  be  in  prison  before  you  sleep  and  never 
come  out  again  alive." 

"But  how    do    I    know  that  —  that  you  are 


HF.I.L) 
TLVG 


A    .M\>ii:kiors    mission. 


499 


the     right     pcrsuii,     or     that        ulurc    is    the 
l)arccl  ?  " 

"It  is  useless  to  waste  liuu-  like  this,  "  I 
interru[)tL'd,  in  a  flood  of  wisdom  occasioned  hv 
feverish  eagerness  to  be  rid  of  the  dangerous 
package.  "  Here  it  is  ;  give  me  the  money 
and  take  it."' 

"Come,  then,  give  it  to  me.'' 

"  The  money  first."' 

"  Hut  how  (.\o  I  know  that " 

"  I'ut  the   money  ilown  on   that  counter  and 
then  stand  back  in  the  corner  there' — I  pointed 
to  the  farthest  one,  some 
eight  feet  from  where  he 
stood — "and    I 
c  h  a  n  g  e    t  h  e 
papers  for  it. '" 

lie  hesitated. 
I  returned  the 
parcel — which  I 
had  withdrawn 
— to  my  pocket 
for  safety. 
"  Smart,  now  I  " 
I  said,  auda- 
ciously. "  The 
Government  will 
give  me  two 
thousand  for  it, 
so  make  haste  or 
I  go." 

A  footstep 
sounded  in  the 
street.  Momen- 
tarily expecting 
a  hand  on  my 
shoulder  —  so 
works  a  guilty 
conscience  —  I 
turned  to  the 
door,  to  be 
brought  back  by  the 
sound  of  the  shopman 
climljing     over     his 

counter.  "  Ml  shout,"  said  1,  warningly.  Ik- 
paused  on  his  knees,  looking  at  me  as  if  the 
dearest  wish  in  his  heart  was  to  wring  my  neck. 
The  footsteps  without  died  away.  I  l)egan  to 
think  that  he  might  shoot  me  and  then  get 
the  package  before  anyone  arrived,  afterwards 
saying  that  he  had  shot  a  would-be  robber  in 
his  own  defence.  Hut  he  slid  backwards,  vent- 
ing a  sigh  of  impotence.  Without  further  ado 
he  rapidly  produced  a  bag,  flattened  it  on  the 
counter,  and  my  glance  fastened  on  English 
gold  amongst  the  mi.xture  of  Turkish  notes  and 
French  and  Greek  francs. 


■  ■  1  LI.    SIIOLT,     Sn\l>    I,    WAKMNIil.V 


"  You  may  as  well  give  me  ten  sovereigns 
whilst  you  are  about  it,"  saitl  I,  still  in  the  same 
low  voice  ;  "  they  will  save  changing.  Hesides, 
they  have  a  better  look  about  them  and  are 
more  homely  to  me."  Alter  some  demur  the 
ten  pounds  were  put  down. 

He  was  moving  away  as  agreed,  with  the  bag, 
when  there  came  again  the  regular  soft  thud, 
thud  of  native  shoes.  He  put  his  hand  over 
the  gold.  I  turned  for  the  doorway.  A  terribly 
anxious  minute  pa.ssed,  and  then  the  pedestrian 
went  by.     The  conspirator  was  backing  into  the 

corner  indicated  by  me 
when  I  said,  "  You  had 
better  put  a  little 
Turkish  silver 
with  the  sove- 
reigns— a  hand- 
ful will  do.  It 
will  come  in 
handy  for  loose 
change."  His 
reply  was  a  glare 
of  hate.  "  Hurry 
up,"  I  enjoined ; 
"  there  are  eight 
shillings  and 
fourpence  due 
to  me  yet  on  the 
ten  lira." 

He  dribbled 
out  about  a  score 
of  piastres,  then 
retreated  as  de- 
sired, scowling 
horribly.  I  drew 
forth  the  package 
again.  Keeping 
a  watch  on  him, 
the  money  was 
mechanica  1 1  y 
picked  up  with  one  hand, 
the  other  holding  behind 
me  the  parcel,  which  was 
dropped  on  the  counter,  as  though  it  were  a  live 
adder,  the  moment  those  gold  and  silver  coins 
were  in  my  fist.  I  stood  back  with  the  action. 
Forward  he  sprang,  glanced  at  some  signs  on 
the  cover  of  the  parcel,  then  thrust  it  out  of 
sight  amongst  his  clothing.  I  could  have 
danced  a  hornpipe  of  joy.  Then  I  oftered  to 
buy  something,  as  a  proof  of  brotherly  feeling. 
He  roughly  bade  me  begone,  and  I  went. 

Scarcely  fifty  yards  from  the  place  I  met  the 
Armenian  on  a  crossing,  and  gave  him  a  silent 
laugh  as  I  passed.  I  had  come  well  out  of  the 
affair,  and  so  could  afford  to  laugh. 


A    LADY    PKI50N    CHAPLAIN. 


By  Rudolph  de  Cordova. 

The  Rev.  Mrs.  May  Preston  Slosson,  of  Laramie  Penitentiary,  Wyoming,  is  the  only  lady  prison 
chaplain  in  the  world,  and  possesses  an  extraordinary  influence  over  her  convict  flock.  She  has 
already  averted  one  dangerous  mutiny,  and  has  done  much   to  ameliorate  the  lot  of  the  prisoners. 


T  would  probably  be  impossible  for 
anyone  to  state  accurately  the 
number  of  women  in  the  world  who 
are  fully  qualified  ministers  of  reli- 
gion.    There  is  only  one,  however, 

so  far  as  is  known,   who  exercises    her  devout 

calling  within   the   walls   of  a   prison,  to  which 

she  is  the  accredited  chaplain.     She  is  the  Rev. 

Mrs.  May  Preston  Slosson,  and  her  cure  is  the 

prison  of  I^ramie,  Wyoming. 

For  at  least  one  other  reason   Mrs.  Slosson 

occupies   a    unicjue  position 

in  the  world  of  women,  for 

she  received  the  first  degree 

granted    to     a     woman    at 

Cornell     University,     where 

siic   worked    for    two   years 

after   she   had   received  the 

Master's  degree  at  Hillsdale 

College,     Michigan.       After 

graduating  she  accepted  the 

Professorship   of    Cireek    at 

Hastings  College,  Nebraska, 

and   was  married,  in    1891, 

to    Professor    Edwin    E. 

.Slosson,    Professor   of  Che- 
mistry at  the  University  of 

\Vyoming,  in  Laramie. 

Wyoming  is  the  State  to 

which    that    part    of    the 

womanhood   of    tlu^    world 

which     believes    in    the    en- 
franchisement   of     the     se.\ 

will  always  turn  with  grateful 

recognition.       First    among 

the  communities    of   the 

civili/cd    world,    its   Legisia 

ture  declared   th.it  womanhood  was   no  barrier 

either  to  the  exercise  of  the  franchise  or  to  the 

holding  of  public  office. 

In  Wyoming  the  prisoners  of  the  State  peni 

tentiary  were  at  one  time  kept  without  work  on 

account  of  the  ojiposition  of  the  trades  unions 

to   their  employment.       Men    deprived   of   the 

saving  grace  of  work,   no  matter  to  what   part 

of  the   community  they   belong,   soon    become 

ilii, ..v!i   ,.iit    f,f  their  balance.     Thnt  happened 


Till 


l;l;V.    .MHS.    MAV    Sl.nSSDN,    THE    ONLY   LADY 
PRISON    CHAl'LAIN    IN    THK   WORLD. 

/'mill  a  /'ltoli\  l>y  Juhes,  I.nrniitie,  Wyoming. 


to  the  prisoners,  who  got  into  a  peculiarly 
morbid  and  unruly  condition.  It  was  in  that 
frame  of  mind  that  Mrs.  Slosson  conceived  the 
idea  which  the  authorities  permitted  her  to  put 
into  practice  :  she  arranged  for  a  series  of 
Sunday  afternoon  talks  and  experimental  lec- 
tures by  the  professors  of  the  University.  She 
herself  gave  two  lectures  before  the  convicts, 
and  when  the  minister  who  was  acting  as 
chaplain  left  the  town  the  prisoners  petitioned 
the  governor  to  appoint  her  chaplain.  He  was 
a  clear-sighted  man  and 
acceded  to  the  request,  and 
since  July,  1899,  she  has 
filled  the  ofifice,  not  only  to 
the  satisfaction  of  the 
authorities,  but,  what  is  far 
more  important,  to  the  satis- 
faction of  those  who  are  the 
enforced  members  of  her 
congregation. 

The  prisoners  number 
some    220    and    consist    lor 
the  most  part  of  young  men 
who  have  gone  ^^"est  from  a 
spirit  of  adventure,  and  have 
got    into    trouble    either 
through  drink  or  from  "  get- 
ting the  brand  on  the  wrong 
cattle,"  as    cattle-stealing   is 
euphoniou.sly  referred  to  by 
the  men  themselves.  \\'omen 
are  for  the  most    part    con- 
spicuous   by    their   absence, 
though  within  the  last  three 
years  there  have  been  three. 
One  of  these   was  a  white, 
two  were  negresses. 
as  well  as    instruct  the  inmates 
Slosson's  idea.     A  great  French 
"  Men  will  do  most 


but  the  other 
To  interest 
has  been  Mrs. 
statesman  once  remarked, 
things  for  those  they  love  ;  everything  for  those 
they  fear."  I'erhaps  if  Mrs.  Slosson  were  asked, 
her  experience  would  make  her  rather  reverse 
this  proposition,  and,  without  criticising  the  truth 
of  the  phra-se  as  applied  to  ordinary  mortals, 
she  would  doclnrc  that,  so  far  as  those  within  the 


A     l..\l)\      l'Kl>()N     (   IIAI'I.AIX. 


50' 


.Mi;s.   SLossiiN  s  •■  I'Aiiisii     — iMi:   i'i;isi)\ 
From  (I  riioto. 


HI'    l.Alv'AMlIC,    UV'>MI\I 


walls  of  a  prison  are  concerned,  "  Men  will  do 
most  things  for  those  they  fear  ;  everything  for 
those  they  love." 

To  get  their  interest  is,  indeed,  her  chief 
desire,  and  to  this  end  she  uses  everything  in 
her  power,  for  she  has  found  that,  interest  once 
won  and  confidence  obtained,  the  rest  is  com- 
paratively easy.  One  of  the  negresses  was 
particularly  hard  to  interest,  and  refused  to 
attend  chapel  on  the  ground  that  she  was  a 
Roman  Catholic.  Mrs.  Slosson  began  by  taking 
messages  from  her  to  her  priest,  and'  in  this 
way  the  woman  naturally  got  to  tolerate,  if 
not,  indeed,  to  look  forward  to,  her  visits. 
In  time,  in  the  course  of  conversation,  Mrs. 
Slosson  found  out  that  the  thing  of  all  things 
the  woman  desired  was  a  skirl-paltern.  A  skirt- 
pattern  for  a  prisoner  shut  out  from  communion 
with  her  fellows  !  It  would  be  comic  if  it  were 
not  so  e.\(juisitely  pathetic.  Instead  of  ignoring 
the  request  and  pointing  out  that  the  woman 
could  have  no  need  of  a  skirt-pattern  under 
the  peculiar  conditions  of  the  life  she  was 
leading,  as  a  man  would  have  done,  and  as 
[)rol;ably  nine  huiulred  and  ninety-nine  philan- 
thropists out  of  a  thousand  would  also  have 
done,  Mrs.  Slosson  went  out,  bought  a  skirt- 
I)attern,  took  it  to  the  prisoner,  and  in  the 
course  of  a  few  days  that  woman  not  only  went 
to  the  chapel  of  her  own  free  will  and  accord, 
but  during  the  rest  of  her  stay  attended  regularly 
at  every  service. 

This  negress  and  the  other  were,  indeed, 
peculiarly  fond  of  fashion  plates.and  Mrs.  Slosson 
made  a  jujint  of  keeping  them  supplied  with  these 
while  the  women  remained   there  durin}:  their 


imprisonment  for  petty 
larceny,  for  whieh  they 
were  convicted.  It  will 
probably  interest  many 
people  to  know  that  the 
white  woman  had  a 
sentence  of  six  years  for 
manslaughter,  Ijut  was 
released  last  year  for 
good  conduct. 

The  men  differ  from 
the  negress  in  that,  in- 
stead of  objecting  to  go 
to  chapel,  they  look  for- 
ward to  it,  and  regard  it 
as  a  punishment  if  they 
are  not  allowed  to  attend 
the  services.  It  is  not 
difficult  to  understand 
why  this  should  be  so,  for 
the  service  is  made  as 
attractive  as  possible,  and 
the  prisoners,  who  are 
rarely  allowed  to  speak,  are  permitted  to  take  part 
ill  the  singing,  while  they  are  emotionally  moved 
by  the  vocal  and  instrumental  music,  which  is 
given  by  the  best  talent  obtainable.  Indeed,  a 
choir  has  been  organized  among  the  convicts, 
and  to  the  music,  prayer.  Scripture  reading,  and 
a  short  but  earnest  sermon  of  a  practical 
character  are  added  during  the  hour  which 
the  service  lasts.  Variety,  which  is  the  spice 
of  life  among  free  men,  is  the  aim  of  Mrs. 
Slosson  among  her  prisoners,  and  she  draws 
freely  from  the  best  literature  for  her  moral 
lessons.  Any  author  whose  work  will  serve 
her  purpose  is  impressed  into  the  furtherance 
of  her  end,  and  she  has  used  work  so  dis- 
similar in  character  as  Robert  Louis  Stevenson's 
"  Aes  Triple.\,"  Ian  Maclaren's  "  Bonnie  Brier 
Bush,"'  CMive  Schreiner's  "Dreams,''  Maeter- 
linck's "  Wisdom  and  Destiny,"  Richard  Le  (lalli- 
enne's  "  Greatness  of  Man,"  Sienkiewicz's  "  Quo 
Vadis?"  'I'homson's  "  City  of  Dreadful  Night," 
and  Dr.  J.  M.   Barrie's  "Margaret  Ogilvie." 

The  chapel  itself  is  reproduced  in  one  of  the 
illustrations,  whiih  shows  the  room  decorated 
with  (lowers  and  furtlier  ornamented  with  many 
flags.  On  the  little  platform  stands  the  pretty, 
slight,  dark-haired  woman  who  has  brought 
brightness  into  the  dreary  lives  of  these  con- 
victs. Mrs.  Slosson  never  wears  any  ecclesiastical 
robes  in  her  ministry,  but  ordinary  walking 
costume,  which  in  the  summer  is  usually 
white.  She  invariably,  too,  wears  flowers,  as 
she  believes  the  men  like  to  see  them  ;  and,  if 
the  prison  regulations  ]K'rmitted.  it  is  by  no 
means  improbable  that  they  would  l)e  given  the 
blossoms  after  the  service  is  over. 


502 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


How  great  is  her  influence  one  of  the 
prisoners  unconsciously  testified  when  he  said 
one  day  :  "  She  is  a  little  woman,  but  if  there 
should  be  an  insurrection  she  could  control  a 
thousand  men  by  the  lifting  up  of  her  hand." 
She  once  did  more  than  that  without  even  the 
necessity  of  raising  that  hand.  A  mutiny  was 
planned  in  the  prison  shops  to  be  put  into 
execution  on  the  following  Monday.  At  the 
Sunday  service,  however,  Mrs.  Slosson's  address 
on  "Duty  "had  such  an  effect  that  when  the 
time  came  for  the  revolt  every  single  man  who 
had  agreed  to  take  part  in  it  backed  out,  simply 


1  111::    i'Kl.SO.N 


CIIAI'KI,    IJr.COUA  ri:i)    J  OK    sliKVlCE 

From  a  Photo. 


because  (if  her  elofpient  words  of  the  previous 
day.  One  of  the  prisoners,  in  speaking  of  her 
in  her  official  capacity,  told  a  friend  :  "  At  the 
first  sound  of  Mrs.  Slosson's  voice  the  prison 
walls  faded  away.  I  forgot  utterly  where  I  was 
for  the  half-hour  she  talked  to  us,  and  then 
woke  with  a  start  to  its  realization  when  she 
ceased.  The  wcjrld  which  had  been  so  bright 
grew  dark  again,  yet  not  quite  so  dark  as 
before."  As  for  her  influence,  a  boy  declared  : 
"  She  is  the  first  person  I  ever  met  whom  I 
really  believe  in.     She  loves  everybody." 

Perhaps  that  is  the  mainspring  on  which  liu' 
whole  machinery  of  her  life  turns.  The  one 
thing  the  men  seem  to  feel  the  need  of  is,  in 
Mrh.  Slosson's  experience,  that  somebody  cares 
whether  ihey  fail  or  succeed.  With  her  that 
caring  is  no  mere  perfunctory  expression,  but  an 


earnest  and  sincere  feeling,  which  is  not  in  the 
least  of  the  "goody-goody"  character,  but  is 
the  result  of  real  coirfiadeship  with  those  with 
whom  she  is  brought  into  contact,  a  comradeship 
shared  by  her  husband.  Although  he  is  one  of 
the  busiest  and  most  hard-driven  of  professional 
men,  writing  for  many  papers  in  addition  to 
doing  his  work  at  the  University,  he  yet  finds 
time  to  help  the  prisoners  in  their  studies,  to 
advise  them  in  any  course  of  reading  they 
desire  to  pursue,  and  to  make  them  welcome  at 
his  own  house  when  they  leave,  where  they  are 
treated  ju^l  like  ordinary  guests.       If  the  men 

remain  in  Laramie 
they  often  call  on 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Slos- 
son,  stay  to  tea  or 
dinner,  and  make 
themselves  as  much 
at  home  as  if  they 
were  members  of  the 
family  or  the  most 
honoured  guests 
possible. 

It  says  much  for 
the  intellectual  atti- 
tude of  those  who 
have  the  direction  of 
the  prison  that  not 
only  in  the  library 
are  many  books 
which  would  not  be 
expected  to  be 
allowed  to  convicts, 
but  from  the  library 
of  the  State  Univer- 
sity others  are  bor- 
rowed for  the  use  of 
the  prisoners,  and 
these  books  include 
Latin  and  French 
classics,  historical  and  sometimes  theological 
works,  as  well  as  mathematical  ones,  while 
treatises  on  surveying  and  even  the  fearsome 
differential  calculus  are  provided  for  the  use  ot 
those  who  have  been  guilty  of  some  offence 
against  the  State.  It  is  curious  to  be  told 
that  often  the  worst  cases  turn  out  the  best, 
and  that  the  murderers  and  cattle  "  rustlers  " 
often  become  good  men  and  useful  citizens, 
only  about  2  per  cent,  of  those  who  have 
been  in  prison  returning  later  on. 

Mrs.  Slosson  is  invariably  known  to  the 
prisoners  as  the  "Little  Mother,"  and  they 
always  refer  to  themselves  as  her  "  boys."  Evi- 
dences of  their  regard  for  her  might  be  (juoted 
almost  ad  infinitum,  but  none  could  possibly  be 
more  striking  than  the  following.  One  man  who 
knew  that  pecuniary  help  would    certainly    be 


A     l..\l)\      I'RISCJ.N     CllAl'LAlN. 


503 


forthcoming  for  him  on  leaving  the  peni- 
untiary  it  lie  wanted  it,  tlnoiigh  the 
instnimentalitv  ot  Mrs.  Slossoii,  buasied  to 
his  comrades  that  he  was  "going  to  '  work  '  the 
cha[)lain  for  money  when  he  got  out."  When- 
ever prisoners  are  leaving  the  penitentiary  Mrs. 
Slosson  always  invites  them  to  call  (jn  her,  if 
they  desire  to  do  so,  and  few,  if  any,  fail  to  avail 
themselves  of  the  invitation.  This  man  went. 
His  reception  was  evidently  so  different  from 
what  he  expected — a  fellow  convict  once  de- 
scribed it  as  "  lacking  anything  perfunctory  or 
professional  "—  that  he  changed  his  mind  and 
never  even  mentioned  the  subject  of  money  ! 
The  other  convicts,  however,  who  imagined  that 
he  would  i)ut  his  threat  into  execution,  made  up 
a  purse  from  their  earnings,  in  order  to  repay 
Mrs.  Slosson  what  they  supposed  she  had  given 
him.  It  was  only  in  that  way  she  found  out 
that  her  visitor  had  meant  to  "  work  '  her,  as  he 
termed  it. 

Practical    evidences    of    the    men's    regard, 


while  she  lias  had  innumerable  pen  holders, 
walch-ciiains,  etc.,  from  them.  When,  last  year, 
her  little  son  died  there  came  a  great  box  of 
asters,  the  child's  favourite  flowers,  with  a  card, 
"  I'rom  your  boys."  The  men  had  actually  sent 
to  Deliver  lor  the  blossoms,  and  any  number  of 
them  wrote  kindly  letters  of  sympathy  to  the 
bereaved  mother. 

Among  these  prisoners  are  men  from  all  parts 
of  the  world  — Swedes,  Chinese,  Indians,  even 
English  subjects.  One  man  wlio  had  come 
from  Wales  one  day  approached  Mrs.  .Slosson 
with  a  request.  "  What  is  it  ? "  she  asked. 
"  Will  you  write  a  letter  to  my  mother  for  me  ? 
She's  a  \\'elshwoman  and  she  doesn't  know  any 
English,  so  will  you  write  it  in  Welsh  ?  " 
Unfortunately  the  letter  could  not  go  in  that 
form,  as  it  need  hardly  be  said  Mrs.  Slosson 
does  not  know  the  language.  It  is  safe,  however, 
to  assume  that  that  mother  was  not  left  without 
a  communication  from  her  son  through  the 
intermediary  of  a  third  person.     Similar  requests 


IMK    l.,\l>V    (.IIAI'LAIN    I'REAtlllNI.     I<»     I  IIC    (.UNVIl.l>. 

Froi'i  a  I'' ho  til. 


indeed,  are  visible  all  over  Mrs.  Slosson's  house. 
Her  afternoon  tea-table  is  of  beautiful  carved 
ebony  inlaid  with  mother-of-pearl,  and  was 
made  and  given  to  her  by  one  of  her  "  boys," 
while  another  made  her  a  work-basket  of  carved 
horn  and  silver,  and  a  pair  of  bison  horns  came 
from  a  third.  .Many  silver  inlaid  bo.xes  which 
are  in  other  rooms  came  from  others,  and  yet 
another   presented   her  with  a  silver   water-set. 


;m( 


Irr. 


have   been    made  for  letter^  to  ilit 
Chinese  and  Swedes. 

A  prison  is  hardly  the  place  to  look  lor 
humorous  incidents,  yet  at  times  these  have 
occurred.  Among  Mrs.  Slosson's  congregation 
at  one  time  was  a  Shoshone  Indian,  who  had 
killed  his  wife  for  breaking  his  rifle.  He  was 
very  brutal  and  e(jually  stupid  at  first,  but  under 
the  inlluence  of  the  place  he  began  to  get  fjuitc 


504 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


friendly  and  civilized  before  lie  left.  He  par- 
ticularly enjoyed  the  singing  of  the  hymn.s  on 
Sunday,  and  would  stand  so  absolutely  impas- 
sive that  he  looked  for  all  the  world  like  a 
carved  image  rather  than  a  man.  Indeed,  a  lady 
visitor  who  accompanied  Mrs.  Slosson  to  the 
service  one  day  noticed  the  Indian  and  actually 
mistook  him  for  a  wooden  efitigy  carved  by  the 
prisoners.  She  nearly  fainted  when  at  the 
end  of  the  service  the  "image"  moved  away 
with  the  others. 

Humorous,  too,  with  the  humour  of  pathos, 
is  llie  invariable  attitude  of  the  prisoners  to- 
wards little  children,  to  whom,  as  a  rule,  they 
are  pa.ssionately  devoted.  Six  feet  of  cowboy 
once  declared  in  that  prison,  "  A  baby  is  the 
only  thing  in  the  world  I  ever  did  want  to  steal. 
I  can  hardly  keep  my  hands  off  them  when  they 
come  with  their  mothers  to  visit  their  fathers  in 
the  penitentiary." 

When  the  prisoners  leave,  even  if  they  go  to 


a  manly  nature  hiding  away  in  a  poor  fellow's 
heart,  and  a  little  sunshine  of  love  brings  that 
out.  The  deadly  mood  is  that  of  discourage- 
ment, and  I  have  preached  hope  to  them — hope 
in  this  world,  I  mean — until  I  had  to  stretch 
my  conscience  a  little  to  do  it."  The  seed  she 
has  thus  sown  has  not  only  taken  root  but  has 
also  blossomed  and  produced  fruit,  for  many  of 
them  have  succeeded  —  succeeded,  as  they 
admit,  through  the  unseen  but  still  present 
influence  of  their  friend.  One  of  these  men 
once  said  :  "I  was  ready  to  give  up  trying, 
for  no  one  seemed  to  trust  me,  and  then 
I  thought  of  Mrs.  Slosson  and  how  dis- 
appointed she  would  be,  and  I  just  set 
my  teeth  and  went  at  it  again."'  Another  one 
declared  :  "  I  knew  it  would  just  break  her 
heart  if  I  went  back  to  my  old  profession  of 
gambling,  so  I  pulled  up  and  didn't." 

No  one  can  possibly  underrate  the  inestimable 
good  which  male  prison  chaplains  have  wrought, 


MRS. 


ui     i.i  1  1  i.i,   ri;i.-.i:,\  i.s  i.ivi. 
Front  a  Photo. 


ni,i;   \.\  cuAii.iLi.   iki:,uM;rs. 


Other  towns,  they  still  keep  in  touch  with  the 
woman  who  during  their  incarceration  kept 
life  in  their  hearts  with  the  prospect  of  a  re- 
habilitated life,  and  the  hope  of  re-created  self- 
respect  before  them.  True,  it  is  difficult  for 
a  man  turned  loose  on  the  world  with  a  new 
suit  of  clothes,  a  sovereign,  and  a  lost  repu- 
tation to  get  a  start,  but  nothing  is  impossible. 
To  help  evolve  the  possibility  into  a  proba- 
bility, the  probability  into  a  certainly,  is  Mrs. 
Slosson's  ambition,  for  she  was  once  heard  to  say : 
"  The  men  who  show  me  such  a  lovable  side  to 
their  natures  are  murderers,  cattle  and  horse 
thieves,  burglars,  and  forgers,  yet  there  is  often 


but  if  a  few  women  were  to  emulate  the  example 
of  Mrs.  Slosson  and  seek  employment  within 
the  "  stone  walls  "  which,  in  spite  of  the  poet, 
do  "  a  prison  make,"  a  new  force  might  be 
brought  to  bear  on  convict  life,  a  new  influence 
introduced  into  prisons,  and  a  fresh  impetus 
given  to  the  evolution  of  that  work  which 
seeks  to  diminish  the  population  of  our  convict 
establishments,  and  can  best  do  so  by  trans- 
forming  the  character  of  the  inmates,  while 
other  influences  are  at  work  to  prevent  the 
rising  generation  taking  to  the  ways  whose  end 
leads  directly  through  the  prison  doors  into  the 
gloom  and  (legradation  of  the  prison  cell. 


J(2lKl®S®Ki 


The  author  describes  a  narrow  escape  from  crocodiles  in  the  Malay  Peninsuia.  While  rowing  down 
a  crocodile-infested  river  to  visit  a  friend  he  shot  one  of  the  reptiles,  which  in  its  dying  struggles  smashed 
in   the  stern  of   the  boat,   so   that  the  little  craft  began  to  sink.     Then  ensued  a  desperate  race  against 

time,  with  the  swarming  monsters  in  hot  pursuit. 


WAS  stopping  at  a  little  lumber 
settlement  named  Mudang,  in  the 
-Malay  Peninsula,  when  my  first, 
and  I  hope  my  last,  experience  with 
crocodiles  occurred.  Having  several 
months  to  spare,  I  had  left  the  civili/ed  delights 
of  Hong  Kong  and,  after  entrusting  myself  to 
the  swarthy  captain  of  an  East  Indian  tramp 
•'mugger'"  for  the  run  down  to  Singapore,  had 
soon  grown  tired  of  its  filth  and  squalor,  and  in 
order  to  enjoy  a  little  quietude  had  gladly 
accepted  the  invitation  of  a  friend,  one  of  the 
largest  lumber  factors  in  Singapore,  to  make  a 
visit  with  him  to  some  of  the  up-country  lumber 
camps. 

On  the  day  in  question  I  was  remaining  in 
camp  awaiting  the  return  of  my  friend,  with 
whom  I  intended  to  return  to  Singa[)ore  on  the 
following  day.  The  sound  of  the  axe-strokes 
and  the  shriek  of  the  gang-saws  sounded  faintly 
up  the  muddy  current  of  the  Mudang,  while 
below,  at  the  temporary  jetty,  the  Dyak  labourers 
were  loacJing  cargo  on  the  little  flat  boats  to  the 
droning  chant  of  some  improvised  ditty. 

Mr.  Mankstrom,  the  German  superintendent 
of  the  works  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  had 
just  sent  over  word  by  one  of  the  coolies  that 
he  was  on  his  way  back  to  tiflin  and  such 
repose  as  the  heat  and  mosquitoes  would  |iermit 
him.  and  that  he  would  like  me  to  drop  o\er 
and  help  him  kill  time  if  I  felt  so  disposed, 
(jiad  to  find  anything  to  relieve  the  monotony 
of  a  day  in  camp,  I  sent  back  word  that  I  would 
start  over  immediately,  and  calling  one  of  the 
Dyak  labourers  from  his  task  I  ordered  hini  to 

Vul.  X.— 64. 


bring  up  the  small  boat  and  row  me  across. 
All  sounds  of  work  were  soon  left  behind 
when  the  boat  emerged  .u[)on  the  lagoon  where 
the  ^[udang  River  widens  into  a  long,  sinuous 
arm  of  the  sea.  Here  the  low  shores,  which 
were  grown  about  with  reedy  jungle  at  the  upper 
end,  where  the  water  is  nearly  fresh,  were 
fringed  with  mangrove  forests.  Here  and  there, 
in  coves  invisible  from  the  main  channel,  little 
Malay  fishing  villages  were  perched  high  on 
posts  above  the  water,  but  they  were  quite  out 
of  sight,  and  the  scene  about  me  had  the  preter- 
natural stillness  of  the  tropics. 

The  sun  poured  its  untempered  rays  upon  the 
hot  earth  from  a  pale,  brassy  sky.  The  black 
waters  of  the  lagoon  were  gently  parted  by  our 
row-boat,  forced  noiselessly  along  by  Jahor,  the 
Malay  boatman,  who  crooned  a  native  rowing- 
song  in  time  with  his  softly  dipping  oars. 

'I'he  lagoon  was  without  a  breath  of  air.  The 
humid,  invisible  vapour  rising  from  dank  jungle 
and  murky  water-surfiice  served  only  to  make 
the  heat  more  0|)pressive.  The  bu/./ards 
perched  silently  in  dead  trees  ;  long-legged 
adjutant-birds,  standing  at  the  water's  verge, 
were  asleep ;  and  water-snakes  floated  motion- 
less on  the  surface,  with  flattened  heads  resting 
upon  their  coils,  until  disturbed  by  our  advanc- 
ing boat,  when  they  swam,  writhing,  to  left  or 
right.  The  lagoon's  inscrutable  depths  sug- 
gested mysterious  dangers,  but  looking  down 
into  their  blackness  I  could  only  see  some 
long,  pallid  fish  which  flickered  ghostly  upward 
toward  tlie  surface,  only  to  disappear  again  from 
view.     But  the  face  of    the   lagoon    indicated 


500 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


danger  unmistakable  to  wlioever  might  find 
himself  in  those  treacherous  waters.  Dark 
objects  like  floating  wood-knots  at  rest,  or 
slowly  moving  onward  before  a  faint  ripple, 
revealed  to  the  experienced  eye  the  presence 
of  crocodiles,  which  are  nowhere  fiercer  than  in 
the  Malaysian  rivers.  A  score  or  more  of 
these  great  saurians  lay  in  the  sun  side  by 
side,  upon  a  bank  of  slimy 
mud  against  the  farther 
shore,  scaly  and  motion- 
less, like  fallen  trunks  of 
the  cocoa-palm. 

The  boat  in  which  I 
was  sitting — once  the  cap- 
tain's gig  of  an  English 
trading  schooner — did  not 
inspire  in  me  any  degree 
of  assurance,  for  it  was  an 
old,  patched-up  craft  con- 
demned years  before  as 
unsafe  to  meet  the  buffet- 
ings  of  ocean  waves,  but 
still  deemed  fit  for  use  on 
inland  waters.  Although 
I  did  not  ajjprehend  danger 
of  any  kind,  still,  as  I 
pulled  nervously  at  the 
tiller  ropes,  I  wished  my- 
self safe  at  Mankstrom's 
bungalow,  round  the  long 
bend  two  miles  below. 

At  this  moment  loud 
sounds  behind  us  caught 
my  ear  —  grunts  and 
squeals,  a  crashing  and 
splashing. 

"  Halloa  !  What's  that  ?  "  I  cried,  and  looked 
round.  "  Wild  pigs  crossing  the  river  !  'Bout 
with  the  boat,  quick,  Jahor  !  Row  for  them 
hard  !  "  Here  was  a  chance  for  a  capital  bit  of 
sport,  and  my  hand  fell  upon  the  rifle  that  lay 
by  my  side.  Up  the  river-chaimel  a  herd  of 
grey,  long-ncsed,  bristling  animals  burst  from 
the  jungle,  plunged  pell-mell  into  the  river, 
and  swam  toward  the  opposite  bunk.  As,  in 
obedience  to  my  instru<  lions,  Jahor  brought  the 
boat  about,  I  placed  the  rifle  ready  to  hand  across 
the  thwart  and  set  his  course  hack  toward  the 
river's  mouth  ;  but,  in  spite  of  the  boatman's 
supeihuman  efforts,  our  boat  was  too  heavy  and 
rlumsT  to  make  any  headway,  and  the  herd, 
helped  by  the  current,  began  to  draw  away  from 
us  rai)idly,  and  I  knew  that  there  would  be  no 
chance  of  overtaking  them. 

'*  Stop  rowing,  jahor  !  "  I  cried,  in  disappoint- 
ment. "  It's  no  use.  They'll  be  across  long 
bef(jre  wc  can  get  halfway  there.  liut  look  at 
the  crocodiles  swimming  for  them  !" 


W.    C.    JAMESON    l;l-  II 

J<  >v/it  a  rhoio. 


As  1  spoke,  all  the  floating  logs  that  had  lain 
.so  inert  upon  the  face  of  the  lagoon,  and  others 
invisible  l)efore,  were  now  moving  fast  toward 
the  swimming  herd,  their  direction  indicated  by 
long,  converging  lines  of  ripples.  The  reptiles 
on  the  mud-bank  became  suddenly  alert  ;  each 
ugly  head  was  lifted  attentively,  and,  as  if  by  a 
concerted  movement,  they    s.wiftly    wheeled    or 

backed  into  the  water  to 
join  their  companions  in 
the  silent  race  for  prey. 

Half-way  across  the  river 
one  of  the  pigs,  lagging, 
suddenly  gave  a  loud, 
startled  squeal,  instantly 
smothered  by  water  as  it 
was  dragged  down  by  an 
unseen  assailant.  A  com- 
motion in  the  water,  and 
the  sight  now  and  then  of 
a  scaly  back  or  tail  or 
long  upper  jaw,  showed 
that  several  of  the  ugly 
monsters  were  disputing 
for  the  possession  of  the 
victim.  The  pigs,  as  they 
swam,  kept  together  as 
well  as  they  could,  making 
a  splashing  which  seemed 
somewhat  to  deter  the 
pursuing  crocodiles  from 
attack.  The  larger  pigs, 
swimming  in  advance, 
were  unmolested,  but  the 
weaker  ones,  falling  be- 
hind, did  not  tare  so 
well.  ' 

Before  the  herd  gained  the  opposite  shore 
first  one  and  then  another  luckless  straggler  was 
dragged  shrieking  below  the  surface.  The  fore- 
most, as  they  clambered  up  the  bank,  were 
crowded  hard  by  those  in  the  rear  ;  and  with 
the  loss  of  three  of  their  number  the  animals 
disappeared  in  the  jungle,  leaving  the  water 
behind  them  all  astir  with  their  pursuers. 

I  had  been  so  busily  engaged  in  watching  this 
scene  that  I  did  not  notice  that  Jahor,  without 
waiting  for  orders,  had  returned  the  boat  to  its 
course  and  was  fast  vowing  away  from  the  spot. 
I  was  on  the  point  of  asking  him  his  reasons  for 
such  unexplainable  haste  when,  to  my  alarm,  1 
became  aware  that  several  of  the  crocodiles  were 
swimming  n|)  near  the  boat.  I  wondered  a  little 
at  their  unusual  boldness,  but  as  I  did  not  think 
for  a  moment  that  lhe\'  would  molest  us  I 
dismissed  my  fears  and,  jjirking  u[)  the  tiller 
ropes,  resumed  my  steering. 

Suddenly,  and  without  a  moment's  warning, 
Jahor  gave  a  triincndous  stnrt,  his  swinging  oars 


IN    DANGEROUS   WATERS. 


507 


poised  motionless  for  an  instant  in  the  air.  The 
Malay's  full  hlack  eyes  sudiLiily  dilated,  his  face 
became  ashy  brown,  and  its  lines  set  in  an  ex- 
pression of  horror. 

"Sahib  !  '1  he  crocodile  !  "'  he  shrieked,  and 
dipped  the  oars  in  a  mighty  stroke  that  made 
the  frail  boat  jump  ahead  with  a  quiver. 

I  turned  my  head  to  the  left  toward  the  sound 
of  a  faint  splash.  An  oar's  length  away  the 
dead  black  water  upheaved  as  a  hideous  snout 
emerged  from  it,  opening  wide  into  vast  jaws 
set  about  with  serrated  pointed  teeth  and  long 
canine  fangs.  Completely  unnerved  by  the 
suddenness  with  which  danger  had  been  thrust 
upon  us  when  so  little  expected,  I  s[)rang 
forward  into  the  waist  of  the  boat  as  it  shot 
ahead,  and  the  great  jaws  and  serrated  teeth 
clashed  so  close 
that  a  puff  of  breath 
from  the  reptile's 
throat  came  into 
my  face. 

Balked    of    its 
prey,  the  crocodile's 
heavy    head 


long, 


Other  crocodiles,  however,  excited  by  the 
crossing  of  the  wild  hogs,  followed  the  wake 
of  the  boat  as  they  had  pursued  the  swim- 
ming herd.  There  was  no  time  for  me  to 
shudder  over  my  narrow  escajje,  for  we  were 
still  menaced  by  serious  danger  should  any 
other  of  the  monsters  take  it  into  their  heads  to 
attack  us.  In  the  boat's  stern  a  gaping  hole 
extended  down  almost  to  the  water-line,  and 
below  this  opening  the  seams  were  so  started 
that  water  was  pouring  into  the  boat  in  a  dozen 
tiny  rills.  As  we  were  at  the  widest  part  of  the 
lagoon  mouth  this  new  discovery  gave  me  a 
fresh  thrill  of  horror,  for  should  we  sink  or 
capsize  our  death  would  be  but  a  matter  of 
seconds. 

My  first  act  was  to  take  my  position  up  in 

the  bows  so  as  not  to 
interfere  with  Jahor's 
rowing,  and  at  the  same 
time   to   lift    the    stern 


"  THE   fiKFAT   JAWS   ANM)   SERRATEP    TKF.TH    CLASH 


rested  for  an  instant  upon  the  quarter  of  the 
boat,  sinking  the  stern  almost  to  the  water- 
line.  Then  the  scaly  body  came  into  full  view, 
and  the  grey  underpart  was  partly  upturned  as 
the  rei)lile  backed  and  swung  free  from  the 
end  of  tlie  boat.  'I'o  seize  my  rifle  and  empty 
several  shots  into  the  creature  behind  the 
shoulder  was  the  act  of  a  moment.  The 
ugly  monster,  hard  hit,  whirled  in  the  water, 
and  his  lashing  tail  caught  the  stern  of  the 
boat  a  terrific  blow,  shattering  the  gunwale 
and  part  of  the  side.  lUit  he  had  had  enough 
of  the  encounter,  and  ilid  not  attempt  to 
pursue   us  as  Jahor   pulled   rapidly  away. 


more  out  of  the  water.  Then, 
taking  my  drinking-gourd,  1  began 
to  bale  out  the  water  with  the 
energy  of  desperation. 
AFeanwhile  Jahor  tugged  at  the  oars,  shai)ing 
the  course  of  the  boat  toward  a  strip  of  sandy 
beach  that  marked  the  beginning  of  the  man- 
grove forest  about  two  hundred  yards  away. 
'I'o  attempt  a  landing  at  a  nearer  point  of  the 
shore  would  be  to  incur  the  risk  of  running 
aground  in  soft,  muddy  shallows.  Swiftly, 
releiitlesslv,  the  water  came  in  through  the 
wide  rents  in  the  shattered  stern.  It  flowed 
forward  and  gathered  in  a  deepening  pool, 
against  which  I  could  make  but  small  headway 
with  my  shallow  gourd.  Lower  and  lower  down 
in  the  water  the  boat  settled,  and  nearer  and 
nearer  after  it  came  the  ominous  ripples  made 


5o8 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


by  the  swimming  saurians.     Off  on  the  quarter, 


a    dozen    yards    away 


one     long     streak    of 


agitated  water  marked  the  wake  of  a  croco- 
dile of  unusual  size,  following  steadily  at 
the  exact  speed  of  the  boat.  Taking  a  few 
seconds,  which  I  could  ill  spare,  from  baling,  I 
hastily  reloaded  my  rifle  and  laid  it  across  the 
thwarts  ready  for  action  in  case  the  ferocious 
assailant,  who  was  following  us  so  relentlessly  — 
almost  as  if  possessed  of  human  subtlety- 
should  close  in  on  us. 

At  this  moment  there  came  a  swift  wrench, 
and   on   the   starboard  gunwale  a   rattle  and  a 
splash.     The  head  of  the  craft  pulled  sharply 
round  to  the  right,  as  Jahor  fell  suddenly  back- 
ward into  the  bottom  of  the  boat.     One  of  the 
reptiles  had  seized  an  oar  and  torn  it  from  the 
boatman's  hand  !    With  cat-like  quick- 
ness the  Malay  sprang  to  his  feet  and, 
using  the  remaining  oar  as  a  paddle, 
brought   the   boat   to   its   course   and 
kept  it  under  slow  headway. 


on  first  hearing  this  sound,  dropped  his  paddle 
and,  turning  in  the  direction  whence  the  sounds 
came,  placed  his  hands  tube-wise  to  his  mouth 
and  gave,  strong  and  clear,  a  peculiar  cadenced 
cry,  like  the  note  of  a  wild  bird.  It  was  the 
call  to  comrades  by  Malay  fishermen  in  distress. 
There  was  an  instant's  silence,  the  laugh  of 
the  woman  was  hushed,  and  then  back  from  the 
mangroves  came  a  man's  answering  call.  Again 
Jahor  called,  this  time  with  another  intonation, 
a  note  vehemently  reiterated.     As   the  answer 


'  ONE  OF    THE    REl'TILES    HAD    SEIZED   AN    OAR. 


With  the  loss  of  speed  and  the  gradual  lower- 
ing of  the  boat  the  water  came  in  faster  and 
faster,  and  the  fierce  swimmers  about  the  craft 
became  bolder,  while  their  numbers  increased. 
Working  away  with  all  our  might,  totally 
oblivious  of  tile  tremendous  heat,  and  only 
actuated  by  the  grim  determination  to  escape 
those  vindictive  pursuers,  I  exchanged  glances 
of  des|)air  with  Jahor  as  we  lifted  our  eyes  from 
the  fast-filling  boat  to  scan  the  stretch  of  black 
water  that  still  showed  between  us  and  the 
shore. 

Out  from  the  dull  green  mass  of  the  mangrove 
forest  came  an  unexpected  sound-  a  woman's 
voice,  a  woman's  laugh.  A  native  girl,  in  mirth 
or  derision,  spoke  and  laughed  shrilly,  so  loudly 
that  this  token  of  human  presence  came  over 
the  water  to  us  like  a  ghastly  mockery.     J^ilior, 


came  back  he  began  to  throw  water  out  of  the 
boat  with  the  oar,  while  a  great  load  seemed  to 
lift  itself  from  my  mind  as  I  understood  the 
meaning  of  his  call  and  its  answering  signal. 

Now  from  the  shore,  where  no  signs  of  human 
life  could  be  seen,  came  sounds  of  quick  move- 
ment faintly  heard  ;  calls  and  answers,  sharp 
voices  of  command,  the  rattle  of  oars  thrown 
down.  Then  somewhere  in  the  forest's  recesses 
I  heard  oars  moving  fast  in  rowlocks. 

Would  they  be  too  late  ?  The  water  was  gain- 
ing on  us  now  so  rapidly  that  I  knew  the  boat 
could  not  keep  afloat  much  longer,  and  I 
shuddered  willi  dread  at  the  despairing  thoughts 
which  surged  through  my  brain.  Jahor  flung 
his  arms  upward  and  once  more  gave  his  cry, 
the  embodiment  of  agoniz(;d  appeal.  13ut  the 
boat   was   settling   deeper  and  deeper,  despite 


IX    D.WCl'.ROrs   WA'I'I-RS. 


509 


our  laborious  efforts  to  keep  down  tlie  water, 
and  the  swimming  reptiles  came  closer,  only 
kc[)t  aloof  a  little  now  by  the  sounds  of  the 
desperate  baling. 

r.ut  the  great  crocodile  which  had  followed 
us  so  [)ersistently  on  the  ([uarter  came  slowly, 
steadily  onward  and  paused  by  our  side,  two 
oars'  distance  away.  He  swam  high,  with  all 
his  great  length  shown,  his  head  at  the  surface 
and  his  eye  fixed  upon  us  with  a  cold  stare 
almost  demoniacal  in  its  baleful  intensity.  To 
see  him  resting  there  was  too  great  a  ta.\  on  my 
overworked  nerves,  and,  stopping  for  a  moment, 
I  seized  the  rifle.  Slowly,  smoothly,  the  vin- 
dictive monster  turned  in  the  water,  so  as  to 
face  the  boat.  Still  I  hesi- 
tated to  fire,  for  I  realized  that 
if  hard  hit  the  monster  might 
in  its  agony  forget  its  former 
wariness.  Should  he  rush  on 
us  we,  men  and  boat,  would 
go  to  destruction  together. 
Jahor  seemed  to  understand 
my  predicament,  for  he  shouted 
a  word  of  encouragement,  and, 
picking  up  the  oar,  paddled 
the  boat  a  little  farther  away. 

Dang  I  Bang  !  Two  shots 
spoke  sharply  from  my  rifle. 
There  was  an  up- 
rearing,  a  great 
swirl,  a  swash  of 
water  against  the 
boat  that  made 
the  farther  gun- 
wale dip  beneath 
the  surface  and 
sent  a  fresh 
flood  in  at  the 
stern.   Flounder- 


"  Yara/na,  yanifiin,  7i'iJJi,  idJi  yi>rama  !  " 
rose  loudly  the  rowing -song  of  the  Malay 
boatmen.  With  a  flashing  of  bright  steel, 
a  glow  of  red  cai)s  and  turbans  and  checked 
saroHi^s,  the  gleam  of  silver  bracelets  and 
armlets  on  tossing  arms  above  the  sides,  their 
great  craft  came  skimming  onward  in  answer  to 
the  call  of  a  tribesman  for  succour.  I  knew 
that  our  boat  could  not  keep  afloat  much 
longer,  but  as  the  proa  was  drawing  up  on  us 
rapidly  I  seized  the  oar  from  Jahor's  hand  and 
splashed  vigorously  in  the  water  about  us  to  drive 
our  remaining  assailants  to  a  farther  distance. 
Down  upon  us,  with  driving  oar-splash  and 
a   roll    of    foaming    water   beneath    the   sharp 


ing 


I    SPL.ASHED    VICOIiOUSLV, 


in    agony, 
blinded    by    the 

shot,  the  monster  darted  away  on  a  zigzag  course, 
sinking  and  reappearing,  and  leaving  behind 
him  a  wake  of  foam  and  blood.  With  at 
least  this,  the  most  j^owerful  and  savage  of  our 
assailants,  put  out  of  the  struggle  I  gave  a  gasp 
of  relief.  A  .second  later  a  joyful  ejaculation 
from  Jahor  caused  me  to  follow  the  direction 
of  his  outstretched  finger,  where,  out  of  the 
mouth  of  the  cove,  several  hundred  yards  away, 
came  a  fishing  juoa,  manned  by  eight  swarthy 
oarsmen,  pulling  powerfully.  In  the  prow  and 
amidships  were  men  grasping  spears,  kreeses, 
and  matchlocks. 


prow,  darted  the  proa.  Before  its  coming  the 
baflled  reptiles  sank  like  stones  frojii  sight. 
Alongside  now  came  the  swift  rush  of  the  Malay 
craft.  On  its  nearer  side  the  oars  were  shipped 
with  a  clash  ;  a  dozen  eager  hands  reached  out. 
The  surge  of  its  wave,  rolling  over  our  shattered 
boat,  sent  it  to  the  bottom,  but,  as  the  planks 
sank  from  beneath  our  feet,  with  a  last 
desperate  leap  Jahor  and  I  s[)rang  aboard.  With 
wild  cries  we  were  caught  and  drawn  to  safety 
on  the  proa,  while  our  rescuers'  shrill  yells  of 
triumjjh  scared  even  the  roosting  buzzards  from 
their  perch  in  the  jungle  trees. 


Paris   to   New  York   Overland. 

THE    NARRATIVE    OF    A    REMARKABLE    EXPEDITION. 

Bv  Hakrv  1)K  Windt.   I". R.G.S. 

IV.-OX  THE  SHORES  OF  THE  ARCTIC:  FROM  THE  KOLYMA  RIVER  TO 

CAPE    NORTH. 

We  have  much  pleasure  in  announcing  that  we  have  secured  the  sole  and  exclusive  right  to  publish 
the  only  illustrated  account  of  Mr.  de  Windt's  great  feat  which  will  appear  in  this  country,  the 
reproductions  of  the  Kodak  photographs  taken  during  the  expedition  adding  greatly  to  the  vividness  of 
the  narrative.  As  a  glance  at  a  map  of  the  world  will  show,  the  explorer's  journey  necessitated 
traversing  some  of  the  wildest  and  most  inhospitable  regions  of  the  earth,  where  even  the  elements 
fought  against  the  intrepid  party.  Mr.  de  Windt  essayed  the  journey  once  before,  but  on  that  occasion 
the  expedition  came  to  grief  on  the  ice-bound  shores  of  Behring  Sea,  and  the  author  barely  escaped 
with  his  life  from  the  hands  Sf  the  savage  natives.  This  time  complete  success  has  crowned 
the  venture ;  but  the  adventures  met  with,  and  the  unheard-of  privations  endured  by  the  party, 
form    a   unique    record    of    human   endurance    and    dogged   pluck. 


OWARDS  evening  on  the  day  of 
iiur  departure  from  Sukharno  we 
(jiicountered  another  bHzzard,  of 
^Lich  terrific  force  that  it  compelled 
us  to  halt  for  several  hours.  On 
this  occasion  a  breast- plate  of  solid  ice  was 
formed  on  our  deerskin.s,  and  an  idea  of  the 
inteii.se  and  incessant  cold  which  followed  may 
be  gleaned  by  the  fact  that  this  uncomfortable 
cuirass  remained  intact  until  we  entered  the 
first  'i  chuktchi  hut  nearly  three  weeks  later  ! 
To  reach  this  remote  settlement,  six  hundred 
miles  distant,  was  now  my  chief*  anxiety,  for 
the  details  of  its  location  given  me  at  Sredni- 
Kolymsk  were  of  the  most  meagre  descrip- 
tion. It  was  "  somewhere "  on  the  eastern 
shores  of  Tchaun  Bay,  unless  its  in- 
habitants   had    retreated    into    the    interior    of 


the  country,  in  which  case  starvation  seemed 
unpleasantly  probable  for  us.  A  Patagonian 
savage  set  down  in  Piccadilly  Circus  and  told  t 
make  his  way  unassisted  to  the  Mansion  Hous 
would  have  had  an  easy  task  by  comparison 
with  ours,  certainly  so  far  as  the  important  ques- 
tions of  food  and  shelter  were  concerned. 

Our  first  "  poorga "  (as  Arctic  blizzards  are 
here  called),  although  a  severe  one,  was  as 
nothing  to  the  tempests  we  were  destined  to 
encounter  some  days  later.  A  "  poorga"  is  ore 
of  the  greatest  perils  of  this  coast.  Its  fury 
resembles  that  of  a  Chinese  typhoon,  for  while 
it  blows  you  cannot  see  a  yard  ahead  for  driving 
snow,  or,  if  the  wind  be  adverse,  travel,  while 
the  dogs  generally  lie  down  and  howl  in  terror. 
The  situation  then  becomes  one  of  great  danger, 
for  these  storms  sometimes  last  for  two  or  three 


£**•-•>«* 


Ipi' 


i'lOiH  n\ 


A    MIODAV    IIAI.I 

Copyrijilit,   1903,  by  George  Nt-wiio,   Liniilcd. 


[  Kodak  Photo. 


PARIS     I'O    Ni:\\     \()KR    U\LRLAM). 


5it 


(Jays  on  end.  I  afterwards  met  a  Tchuklelii 
who,  noticii)g  an  unusual  mound  of  snow  the 
(lay  after  one  of  these  gales,  examined  the  heap 
and  found  a  sled  and  the  frozen  remains  of  its 
driver  and  dogs.  They  had  lain  down  to  die  in 
despair  within  twenty  yards  of  the  man's  hut  I 

Imagine  a  tract  of  country,  say,  from  Calais 
to  .St.  Petersburg,  as  barren  as  a  snow-clad 
Saiiara,  absolutely  uninhabited  for  the  first  six 
hundred  miles,  and  then  sparsely  peopled  by 
tile  filthiest  race  in  creation,  and  you  have  an 
idea  of  the  region  traversed  by  my  ex[)edition 
for  nearly  two  months  of  continuous  travel,  from 
the  last  Russian  outpost  to  Behring  Straits. 
Place  a  piece  of  coal  sprinkled  with  salt  on  a 
wiiite  tablecloth,  a  few  inches  off  it  scatter  some 
lump  sugar,  and  it  will  give  you,  in  miniature,  a 
very  fair  presentment  of  the  scenery.  The  coal 
is  the  bleak  coast-line,  continually  swept  clear  of 


would  flash  like  jewels  in  the  full  blaze  of  the 
sun's  rays,  while  blocks  of  dark  green  ice  in  the 
shade,  half  buried  in  snow,  would  appear  for  all 
the  world  like  emeralds  dropped  into  a  mass  of 
whipped  cream. 

Kut  we  had  little  time,  or,  indeed,  inclina- 
tion, to  admire  the  beauties  of  Nature,  which 
are  robbed  of  half  their  charm  when  viewed  by 
the  possessor  of  an  emi)ty  stomach.  Did  not 
Dr.  Johnson  remark  that  "the  finest  landscape 
in  the  world  is  spoilt  without  a  good  hotel  in 
the  foreground  "?  Time  in  our  case  meant  not 
only  money  but  ///c-,  and  we  were  therefore 
compelled  to  push  on,  day  after  day,  week  after 
week,  at  the  highest  rate  of  speed  attainable  by 
our  miserable  dogs,  who,  to  do  them  justice, 
did  their  best.  The  poor  beasts  .seemed  instinc- 
tively aware  that  our  scanty  rations  would  only 
last  for  a  very  limited  period.     When  the  coast 


i-'roiii  a\ 


THE    rHIKD    DAY   OUT    FKO.M    THE    Kol.V.MA    Ul\  KK— l'KA\  KLLINl.   UN    WW.    li:r,-L;iiL  N  U    AKCITC. 


{Kodak  rhoto. 


snow  by  furious  gales,  the  sugar  sea-ice,  and 
the  interval  the  frozen  beach  on  which  we 
journeyed  for  nearly  fifteen  himdred  miles.  The 
melancholy,  dreary  landscape  never  changed, 
but  occasionally  the  cliffs  would  vanish,  and  our 
way  lie  across  the  "tundras"  —  vast  plains 
wiiieh  in  summer  encircle  the  Arctic  plain  with 
verdure,  but  which  in  wintertime  are  merged 
with  the  frozen  ocean  in  one  boundless,  be- 
wildering wilderness  (jf  white.  In  hazy  weather 
land  and  sky  formed  one  im|)enetrable  veil, 
with  no  horizon  as  di\iding  line,  when,  at  a 
short  distance  away,  men  and  dog -sleds  re- 
sembled flies  crawling  up  a  perpentlicular  wall. 
But  on  clear  days,  unfortunately  rare,  the  blue 
sky  and  sunshine  were  .Mediterranean,  and  at 
such  times  the  bergs  and   hummocks  out  at  sea 


was  visible  we  steered  by  it,  travelling  from 
6  a.m.  until  we  struck  drift-wood,  the  traveller's 
sole  sahalion  on  this  cruel  coast.  Sometimes  we 
found  it  and  sometimes  we  didn't.  In  any  case, 
it  was  never  more  than  sufficient  to  boil  a  kettle, 
and  bodily  warmth  fiom  a  good  fire  was  an 
unattainable  luxury.  During  a  fairly  long 
life  of  travel,  embracing  many  of  the  wildest 
portions  of  the  earth,  I  can  safely  say  tliat  I 
have  never  suffered  as  I  did  during  tho.se  first 
three  weeks  along  the  shores  of  N'orth-Eastern 
Silx-ria.  N\'e  were  ofien  compelled  to  go  with- 
out food  through  tlie  whole  twenty-four  hours, 
our  frozen  provisions  being  u.seless  witlK)Ut  a 
fire  to  thaw  them.  .\t  night,  after  a  cheerless 
and  miserable  meal,  we  would  crawl  into  sleep- 
ing-bags and   try  to  slumber   in   a  tein[)erature 


5-2 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


varying  from  35deg.  to  45deg.  below  P^ahrenheit. 
And  \ery  often,  lying  sleepless,  miserable,  and 
half  frozen  under  that  flimsy  tent,  I  resolved  to 
give  up  my  project  and  make  an  attempt  to 
return  to  the  Kolyma  River,  although  retreat 
would  now  have  been  attended  with  some  peril. 
And  yet,  somehow,  morning  always  found  us  on 
the  march  eastward,  although,  at  our  snail-like 
speed,  America  seemed  almost  as  unattainable 
as  the  North  Pole  itself.  On  the  beach  we 
got  along  fairly  well,  but  steep,  precipitous 
cliffs  often  drove  us  out  to  sea,  where  the  sleds 


I'rom  a\ 


I'KliCll'ITljUS   CLIFIS   Ol-IEN    UKUk  K    US   OUT    TO    SEA. 


had  to  be  pushed  and  hauled  over  rough  and 
often  mountainous  ice,  about  the  toughest  work 
I  know  of.  We  then  travelled  about  a  mile  an 
hour,  and  sometimes  not  that.  The  end  of  the 
day  generally  found  us  all  cut  al)Out,  bruised, 
and  bleeding  from  falls  over  the  glassy,  sli[)pery 
ice,  and  the  wounds,  althougli  trifling,  were 
made  doubly  painful  by  frost  and  the  absence 
of  hot  w.iter.  I  enter  into  these  apparetitly 
trivial  details  as  at  the  time  they  appeared  to 
us  of  considerable  importance.  The  reader 
may  think  them  unnecessary,  just  as  a  man  who 
has  never  had  toothache  frequently  laughs  at  a 
sufferer.     Toothache,  by  the  way,  was  another 


minor  evil  that  increased  our  sufferings  during 
those  dark  days  of  cold  and  hunger. 

And  yet,  if  all  had  gone  well,  all  these 
troubles — added  to  intense  cold  and  semi- 
starvation — -would  have  been  bearable;  but 
everything  went  wrong.  First  it  was  the  dogs, 
as  famished  as  ourselves,  who  dragged  their 
tired  limbs  more  and  more  heavily  towards 
evening  as  the  weary  days  crawled  on.  Every 
morning  I  used  to  look  at  their  gaunt  flanks 
and  hungry  eyes  and  think  with  despair  of  the 
thousand  odd   miles  that  lay  between    us  and 

Behring  Straits.  Then 
the  Russian  drivers 
turned  nasty  and 
threatened  almost 
daily  to  desert  us  and 
return  to  their  homes 
on  the  Kolyma.  All 
Russians  have  a 
deadly  fear  of  the 
Tchuktchis,  and  these 
were  no  exception  to 
the  rule.  One  morn- 
ing they  arrived  in  a 
l)ody  and  vowed  that 
nothing  should  induce 
ihem  to  proceed  a 
mile  farther.  The 
Tchuktchis,  they 
averred,  were  openly 
hostile,  and  instead 
of  finding  the  food 
we  expected  at  the 
first  settlement  we 
should  probably  meet 
with  death.  Finally, 
force  had  to  be  em- 
ployed to  keep  these 
cowards  together, 
and,  luckily,  we  were 
well  armed,  whicli 
they  were  not.  But 
this  trouble  necessi- 
tated a  watch  by  night 
as  exhausting  as  it  was  painful  in  the  pitiless 
cold.  Only  ten  days  out  from  Kolymsk  we 
were  living  on  a  quarter  of  a  jiound  of 
"Carnyl,"*  a  compressed  food,  and  a  little 
frozen  fish  a  day,  a  diet  that  would  scarcely 
satisfy  a  healthy  child.  Bread,  biscuits,  and 
everything  in  the  shape  of  flour  was  finished  a 
week  after  leaving  Kolymsk,  l)ul  luckily  we 
had  plenty  of  tea  and  tobacco,  which  kepi  life 
within  us  to  the  last,  especially  the  former. 
Then  sickness  came.     Owing  to  the  frequent 

*  "  Carnyl  "  is  the  most  sustaining  food  in  a  small  compass  which 
has  ever  come  uruler  my  notice,  and  I  can  most  heartily  recommend 
it  to  the  notice  of  other  explorers. 


[Kodak  J'lioto. 


I'ARIS    TO    X1<:\V    VORR    ON'ERLAND. 


513 


dearth  of  fuel  our  furs  and  footgear  were 
seldom  quite  dry,  and  during  sleep  our  feet 
were  sometimes  fro/en  by  the  moisture  formed 
during  the  day.  One  fireless  night  I)e  Clin- 
champ  entirely  lost  the  use  of  his  limbs,  and  a 
day's  delay  was  the  result.  Four  days  later  he 
slippctl  into  a  crevasse  while  after  a  bear  and 
ruptured  iiimself  This  Polar  bear,  by  the  way, 
was  the  only  living  thing  we  saw  throughout  that 
journey  of  six  hundred  miles.  Then  I  was 
attacked  by  snow-blindness,  tlie  pain  of  which 
must  be  experienced  to  be  realized.  In  civiliza- 
tion the  malady  would  have  necessitated  medical 
care  and  a  darkened  room.  Here  it  meant 
pushing  on  day  after  day  half-blinded  and  in 
great  agony,  especially  when  there  was  no  drift- 
wood, and  therefore  no  hot  water  to  subdue  the 
inflammation.  Sleep  or  rest  of  any  kind  was 
impossible  for  nearly  a  week,  and  for  two  days 
my  eyes  closed  up  entirely,  and  I  layhelpless 
on  a  sled  until  we  struck  a  fair  quantity  of  wood 
anil  halted  for  forty-eight  hours.  About  this 
time  one  of  the  dogs  was  attacked  with  rabies, 
brought  on,  I  imagine,  by  hunger  and  cold,  and 
bit  several  others  before  we  could  shoot  it.  We 
lost  over  a  dozen  dogs  in  this  way  before  reaching 
Behring  Straits.  And  yet,  notwithstanding  these 
hourly  difficulties,  privations,  and  hardships,  I 
am  [)roud  to  say  that  I  never  once  heard  a  word 
of  complaint  from  a  single  member  of  our  party. 
And  I  may  add  that  no  leader  of  an  expedition 
could  wish  for  three  more  courageous,  cheerful, 
and  unselfish  companions  than  the  Vicomte 
de  Clinchamp-Bellegarde,  George  Harding,  and 
last,  but  not  least,  the  Cossack,  Stepan  Rastor- 
guyeff,  whose  invaluable  services  throughout 
this  arduous  journey  will,  I  am  informed,  be 
suitably  rewarded  by  the  Russian  Government. 

About  one  day  in  four  was  bright  and  sunny, 
and  would  have  been  almost  pleasant  under 
other  circumstances ;  even  our  chicken-hearted 
drivers  would  become  less  gloomy  under  the 
genial  influences  of  blue  sky  and  sunshine,  and 
join  together  in  the  weird  songs  of  their  country 
until  darkness  again  fell,  bringing  with  it 
dis(iuieting  fears  of  the  murderous  Tchuktchis. 
A  favourite  air  was  a  weird,  melancholy  ditty, 
said  to  have  been  composed  by  a  native  of 
Kolymsk.  ^Vith  this  the  jjoor  wretches  used  to 
beguile  the  hours  of  travel  when  the  sun  shone. 
Rut  this  was  seldom,  and  most  of  that  terrible 
ccjast  journey  was  made  through  ever-recurring 
snowstorms,  gales,  and  "  poorgas."  We  met  three 
of  tlie  latter  between  the  Kolyma  River  and 
Cape  North,  the  last  one  striking  us  on  tlu- 
twentieth  day  out  as  we  were  crossing  Tcliaun 
Ray,  which  is  marked  upon  most  ICnglish  majjs. 
A  "  poorga "  generally  gives  no  warning,  and 
although  the  weather  just  before  had  been  clear 

Vol.  X.-65. 


and  still,  in  five  minutes  we  were  at  the  mercy 
of  such  a  tempest  that  men  and  dogs  were  com- 
pelled to  halt  and  crouch  under  the  sleds  to 
escape  its  fury. 

During  a  temporary  lull  we  got  under  way 
again,  and  for  seven  of  the  longest  hours  of  my 
life  we  floundered  on.  Every  few  minutes  the 
weak,  half-starved  dogs  would  lie  down,  and 
were  only  urged  on  by  severe  punishment  which 
it  went  to  my  heart  to  see  inflicted.  But  to 
reach  land  was  a  question  of  life  or  death, 
especially  as  at  this  season  of  the  year  floes  are 
often  detached  and  blown  out  to  sea.  It  was 
truly  tough  work  !  Sometimes  the  coast  would 
loom  ahead  through  the  blinding  snow,  but  we 
had  to  steer  chiefly  by  the  compass,  which  for 
some  occult  reason  was  that  day  useles.s,  for  it 
pointed  east  and  led  us  due  north  towards  the 
ocean.  At  last  we  reached  land,  exhausted  and 
badly  frost-bitten,  but  safe.  Some  drift-wood 
and  the  shelter  of  a  friendly  cavern  were 
handy,  or  I  think  some  of  us  must  inevitably 
have  perished  that  night  from  the  ferocious 
cold.  After  the  evening  meal  every  mouth- 
ful of  food  we  had  left  was  two  pounds 
of  "  Carnyl '"  and  six  pounds  of  frozen  fish. 
This  was  for  nine  men  and  sixty  dogs  ! 
Hitherto  we  had  joked  about  cannibalism. 
Harding,  we  said,  as  being  the  stoutest  mem- 
ber of  the  party,  was  to  be  sacrificed,  and 
Stepan  was  to  be  the  executioner.  But  to- 
night this  well-worn  joke  fell  flat.  For  we  had 
reached  the  eastern  shores  of  Tchaun  Bay,  and 
this  was  where  we  should  have  struck  the  first 
Tchuktchi  village.  When  the  sun  rose  next 
morning,  however,  not  a  sign  of  human  life 
was  visible.  Even  the  genial  Stepan's  features 
assumed  a  look  of  blank  despair,  but  the 
plucky  Cossack  aroused  our  miserable  drivers 
as  usual  with  his  merciless  "  nagaika  "  (Cossack 
whi[)),  and  compelled  them  to  make  a  start, 
although  the  poor  wretches  would  willingly  have 
resigned  themselves  to  a  death  which  un- 
doubtedly overtook  them  a  few  days  later. 

We  had  lost  three  dogs  during  the  blizzard 
on  Tchaun  Bav,  and  the  rest  were  so  wearv  and 
footsore  that  it  seemed  little  short  of  brutal  to 
drive  them  on.  But  to  stop  here  meant  starva- 
tion, so  we  struggled  painfully  onwards  to  the 
eastward,  growing  weaker  and  weaker  every 
hour.  At  times  1  felt  as  if  I  must  lie  down  in 
the  snow  and  give  way  to  the  overpowering 
feeling  of  drowsiness  produced  by  weakness, 
cold,  "^  and  hunger,  and  Harding  and  De 
Ciinchamp  afterwards  confessed  that  they  fre- 
(|uently  ex()erienced  the  .same  feeling.  But 
Stepan,  the  Cossack,  perhaj)s  more  inured 
to  hardships  than  ourselves,  was  the  life 
and    soul    of  our    miserable    party  during   that 


5M 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


J' ton:  (i) 


liXl'I'.DII  IcjN    CKOSS].N(J     TCHAUN    U.W. 


inlerniinablc  day.  And  it  was  probably  due  to 
his  dogged  (lotcrinination  (combined  with  a 
small  slice  of  luck)  that  on  that  very  night  we 
sighted  our  goal — the  first  'J'chuktchi  settle- 
ment, and  the  relief  wilii  whicli  I  first  beheld 
those  dingy  walrus  hide  huts  cannot  be  de- 
.scribed.  For  even  this  filthy  haven  meant 
salvation  from  a  lingering  deati). 

Our  first  reception  by  the  Tchuktchis  was  so 
unfriendly  that  I  began  to  think  there  might 
have  been  some  reason  for  the  repeated  warnings 


of  our  friends 
from  the    Koly- 
ma.      Two    or 
three  woebegone 
beings  in  ragged 
deerskins  crawl- 
ed out  of  one  of 
the    three    huts 
the    place    con- 
tained, and  sur- 
veyed   us    witli 
surly,  suspicious 
looks,    when     a 
driver,    who 
knewa  few*  words 
of  Tchuktchi, 
begged  for  shel- 
ter and  a    little 
food.    Ikit  these 
u  n  a  1 1  r  active 
natives   gruffly 
replied    that 
there    were   nei- 
ther, and  point- 
ed at  the  same 
time  to  a  black 
cloth    flapping 
mournfully  in 
the  breeze  over 
the  nearest  hut. 
I    knew   this   to 
be    the    Tchuk- 
tchi  emblem  of 
death.     Our  in- 
hospitable hosts 
then      indicated 
a     dark     object 
some  distance 
away   upon    the 
snow,  which  Ste- 
pan     discovered 
to     be     several 
corpses   of  men 
and    women    in 
various  stages  of 
decomposition. 
An  infectious 
disease    was 
raging,  and  we  beat  a  hasty  retreat  from  the  hut, 
where  several  sufferers  lay  u[)on   the  ground.      I 
imagine  the  malady  was  small-pox,  (or  a  length- 
ened exf)erience  of  Siberian  prisons  has  made 
me  familiar  with  the  characteristic  smell  which, 
according     to      Russian     physicians,     generally 
accompanies  the  conHuent  form  of  this  disease. 
On   the  otlici-   Iiand,  "  kor,"  a  malady  only  out- 
wardly resembling  small-pox,  occasionally   rages 
amongst    the   Vakutes,  and    I    may  have  been 
mistaken  in  my  very  cursory  diagnosis. 


[Koda/c  I'hoto. 


PARIS    'IT)     Xi:\V     N'ORK     OVKRLAXD. 


5'5 


We  ascertained  with  considerable  difficulty 
frtiin  the  natives  tliit  the  next  settlement  was 
at  least  nine  ''  sleeps  ''  away,  which  meant, 
according  to  the  Tchuktihi  dialect,  the  same 
number  of  days.  Fortunately  I  had  brought 
"vodka"  for  trading  purposes  (a  Tchuktchi 
will  sell  his  soul  for  alcohol),  so  it  got  us  some 
seal-meat  for  ourselves   and  the   dogs.     I  can 


our  own  sleds.  In  this  there  is  a  certain  art 
somewhat  difficult  to  accjuire,  for  dogs  will  at 
once  discover  a  change  of  driver  the  moment 
the  latter  opens  his  mouth  and  become  accord- 
ingly troublesome.  The  rudiments  of  the  craft 
are  easily  picked  up.  There  are,  of  course,  no 
reins  of  any  kind.  To  start  off  you  seize  the 
sled  with  both  hands,  give  it  a  violent  wrencii 


THE    ITKST   TCHUKTCHI    SETTl  E.MENT— THK    HI.ACK    CLOTH    OVER     THE    HUT    IN    THE    BACKliKOU.ND   INDICATES   THAI     AN 


From  a 


El'lUEMIC   OF   SMAI.L-1'OX    IS   RAGINtl. 


[Kcdik  Photo. 


safely  say  that  this  is  the  most  nauseous 
diet  in  creation  !  But  we  devoured  it 
greedily  and  gratefully,  for  another  twenty- 
four  hours  must  have  seen  us  starving. 
There  were  about  thirty  people  in  this  place 
who  had  escaped  the  prevailing  epidemic, 
who  seemed  so  hostile  that  our  timid  drivers 
were  once  more  paralyzed  with  fear.  That  night 
we  were  all  loo  exhausted  to  keep  the  usual 
watch,  and  when  we  awoke  late  next  morning 
our  Russian  friends  had  turned  tail  and  bolted, 
taking  some  seal-meat  and  most  of  our  "vodka" 
willi  them.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the 
runaways  have  perished  trying  to  rradi  their 
homes  on  the  Kolyma  River.  Panic  hail 
deprived  them  of  the  reasoning  powers  to  take 
a  sled  and  dogs,  and  they  had  not  even  a 
compass,  which,  however,  these  poor  ignorant 
Moujiks  would  probably  have  been  unable  to 
make  use  of  I  I'he  food  they  took  was  [)erhaps 
sufficient  for  a  week,  not  for  a  journey  of  (at 
least)  a  cou[)le  of  months  on  foot. 

Wc  pushed  on  after  a  night's  rest,  now  driving 


to  one  side,  and  cry,  "  P'tak,"  when  the  team 
starts  off  (or  shotiid  start  oft")  at  full  gallop,  and 
you  gain  your  seat  as  you  best  may.  To  stop, 
you  jab  the  iron  hook  into  snow  or  ice  and  call 
out  "Tar,"  but  the  management  of  the  brake  is 
by  no  means  easy,  especially  with  strong  and 
unruly  dogs.  Frequent  fights  necessitate  the 
constant  readjustment  of  the  traces — no  pleasant 
job  in  a  very  low  temperature.  Laplanders  and 
Fskimos  have  each  their  methods  of  dog- 
driving,  but  the  above  is  that  practised  by  the 
Tchuktchis  on  the  northern  coasts  of  Siberia. 

On  leaving  the  first  settlement  we  had  just 
enough  food  for  ten  days  (on  short  rations),  but 
ill  a  week  we  reachetl  the  second  village,  which 
was  more  prosjierous,  with  plenty  of  seal-meat, 
litre  most  of  the  natives  had  never  seen  a 
white  man,  and  we  were,  therefore,  regarded  with 
the  greatest  curiosity,  especially  by  the  women, 
who  continually  o[)ened  our  tent  to  gaze  inside — 
muih  to  our  discomfort  on  account  of  the  cold. 
'I'hore  were  about  fifty  people  here  who  badly 
wanted  our  "  vodka,"  but  the  latter  was  dispensed 


5i6 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE 


From  a  Kodak  Photo. 

very  sparingly,  for  ci 
drunken  'J'chuktchi  is  a 
nuinlcrous  fiend.  Half- 
a  d(j/.en  clogs,  some  tea, 
and  tobacco  were  there- 
fore exchanged  for  food, 
and  after  a  short  rest  we 
set  out  again.  The 
journey  of  eighteen  days 
fioin  the  first  settle- 
ment to  (Jape  North 
was  chiefly  ice-work  (at 
sea),  which  weakness, 
caused  hy  cold  and 
hunger,  rendered  us 
almost  incapable  of.  I'.ut 
we  pegged  away  che(;r- 
fully  enough,  although 
there  are  not  twenty 
miles   of   that   miserable 


coast  that  do  not  recall  some 
harassing  anxiety  connected  with 
weakly  dogs  and  scarcity  of  pro- 
visions. Above  all,  we  travelled 
so  slowly  that  Koluitchin  Bay 
(eight  hundred  miles  away) 
would  probably  be  found  broken 
up  and  impassable,  in  which 
case  an  entire  summer  would 
have  to  be  passed  amongst  the 
treacherous  natives  of  this  dreary 
coast. 

Finally,  Eumati,  a  large  village 
near  Cape  North,  was  reached, 
and  here  we  found  dog-food  and 
even  deer  -  meat,  which  latter, 
although  old  and  putrid,  was 
most  acceptable.  From  here  on 
to  Cape  North  villages  became 
more  frequent  and  the  natives 
more  friendly.  In  one  place  the 
sight  of  a  San  Francisco  news- 
paper filled  us  with  joy  and  a 
pleasant  sense  of  proximity, 
although  it  was  two  years  old  ! 
We  traced  it  to  an  American 
whaler  —  for  the  trade  of  this 
coast  is  now  no  longer  in  Russian 
hands,  but  in  those  of  the 
whaling  fleet  from  the  Golden 
Gate.  At  present  there  is  no 
communication     whatsoever 


hi  I'll!  a  I 


I  111-:     ICIIUKTCIIIS   INVlisI  IG^'lE    THE    UAGtiAGli-SI.EUS.  [Kiulil/i  J'i'lolO. 


TARIS    TO     NEW    VORK     U\ER1.AND. 


517 


From  a\ 


THE   LAST   TCIIUKTCHI    VILLAGE   ON    THE   SHOHES   OF    liEHKING   STKAII 


between  the  Tchuktchis  and  the  Kolyma  River, 
as  we  had  already  found— to  our  cost ! 

At  Cape  North  (which  we  took  so  long  to 
reach  that  we  named  it  "  Cape  Despair ")  we 
actually  obtained  flour  and  molasses — priceless 
luxuries.     Pancakes   fried   in   seal   oil   may  not 


sound  ai)peti/.ing,  but  we  found  them  delicious. 
And  the  welcome  news  that  Koluitchin  Bay 
would  remain  frozen  until  late  in  May  enabled 
me  to  hope  that  we  might  now  eventually  reach 
Behring  Straits,  a  contingency  which  only  a  few 
days  before  had  seemed  extremely  remote. 


C.ML    SoKIII  —  IHI-.    I'.XILuia.U.s    .NAMl.lJli     "^.'.11.    iJl.M'Ali;,       IIECAUSE    II      l'"'l 

From  a  Kodak  Photo. 


,      I  III    M     -. N'.     I"    M-.Av.ll     II. 


{^To  (>c  CO  tit  tuned.) 


Odds   and    Ends. 

Fiy-catching    Extraordinary-The    Squid-Fishers'    Village     A    Remarkable    Territory— A  Junk-shaped 
Pine  Tree— A  Climatic    Freak   in  Michigan -The  Worst  Bridge   in    the   Himalayas,  etc. 


A    IM.A(.LE   OK    Kl.lhN   Al     WIN  N I  I'liCi— I  HE    l-I.S'-l'AI'KRS    HEKE    SHOWN 
J-'rolll  a\  NEW   WHEN    THE   MEAL   COMMENCED! 

CORRESPONDENT  in  Winnipeg 
sends  us  the  remarkable  snap-shot 
here  shown.  He  writes  as  follows  : 
"This  photograph  was  taken  just  as 
we  had  finished  tea,  and  shows  how 

we  have  to  partake  of  our  meals  at  the  time  of 

writing  on  account  of  the  lively  little  house-fly. 

There  is  a  regular 

plague     of    them 

just      now,      and 

all     the    eatables 

have  to  be  placed 

in   the   centre   of 

the  table,  covered 

with  muslin,  and 

fly-papers    placed 

on    top   of    the 

whole.    ICach  time 

we  want  anything 

we    have    to   go 

fishing,  as  it  were, 

under  the  muslin. 

I'lie      fly  -  pa|)ers 

shown    in    t  h  e 

photograph    were 

(|uite    new    when 

we  sat  down,   so 

you    will    get   an 

idea    of    how    we 


enjoy  ourselves.  This  is  a 
grand  country  for  studying  insect 
life  ! " 

The  accompanying  photograph 
shows  the  stiuld-fishers'  village  near 
Monterey,  California.  This  village 
is  a  miscellaneous  jumble  of  wooden 
shanties — many  of  them  supported 
on  piles — and  is  occupied  exclu- 
sively by  Chinamen  engaged  in 
squid-catching.  The  squids,  which 
seem  to  be  the  young  of  a  species 
of  cuttle-fish,  and  are  only  a  few 
inches  in  length,  swarm  off  the 
coast  at  certain  seasons.  They  are 
caught  in  nets  by  the  Chinamen, 
sun-dried,  and  then  shipped  to 
China,  where  they  are  esteemed  a 
great  delicacy.  The  peculiar-look- 
ing boats  shown  in  the  foreground 
are  of  Chinese  manufacture,  and 
are  constructed  entirely  without 
nails,  wooden  pegs  taking  their  place.  The 
sides  of  these  boats  are  of  double  thickness, 
with  an  air  space  between,  and  the  body  of 
the  craft  is  divided  by  partitions  into  a  rude 
semblance  of  water-tight  compartments  —  a 
comparatively  modern  invention  with  us,  but 
known  to  these  remarkable  people  for  centuries. 


WEUE    (,)U11I. 

[P/toto. 


rwi»*i 


J'  I  out  n\ 


THE   CHINESE   SQUIU-FISIIEHS'    VILLAGE   NEAR   MONTEREY,    CALIFORNIA. 


\Fhit„. 


ODDS    AM)     i:XDS. 


519 


illiK    ul-     Mt'UtS.Ntl',    Tllli   OM.Y    NKUIKAL    •Jl-KMIUKV    IN     ELl-IJ.. 
From  a  PItoto. 


It  is  safe  to  say  that  very 
few  of  our  readers  have  ever 
heard    of    the    territory    of 
Moresnet,    which   alone 
among     the     countries     of 
Europe   is  completely  neu- 
tral.    Moresnet    is   situated 
between  (lermany,  Belgium, 
and  Holland,  and  the  whole 
length  of  the  district  can  be 
traversed  in  about  an  hour. 
In  spite  of  its   small    size, 
however,    Moresnet    has    a 
population    of    over    3,000 
people.     The  story  of  how 
the   place   came  to   be  de- 
clared   neutral     ground     is 
rather  curious.     The  capital 
of    Moresnet    is    Altenberg, 
which   possesses  a  valuable 
zinc    mine,    now  nearly  ex- 
hausted.    For    upwards    of 
fourteen      years,       between 
18 16    and    1830,    a    dispute    raged 
between  Germany  and    Belgium  as 
to    the  possession   of  this  territory, 
as  both  countries  coveted  the  then 
valuable  mine.     As,  however,  there 
seemed    no    hope    of    settling    the 
quarrel,    it  was    finally   agreed    that 
the  district  should  be  made  neutral 
ground,  and  since  1839  it  has  been 
governed  by  a  Mayor  and  a  Council 
of  ten  members.     Some  of  the  laws 
of  the   neighbouring   States   are  in 
force  here,   but  the  descendants  of 
the  original  inhabitants  are  exempt 
from   military  service.      Our  photo- 
graph   shows    the    frontier    between 
the    three  countries,   with   Cierman, 
Dutch,  and  Belgian  gendarmes. 

A  correspondent  in    Pckiii  sends       /•roma] box-like 


..1  l.lJ    I'lNt    TkEli   A  I 
Frout  a  I'hoto. 


us  our  next  photograph.  This  shows  a 
big  pine  tree  which  has  been  cleverly 
trained  into  the  shape  of  a  Japanese 
junk.  The  high  stern,  rounded  sides, 
masts,  and  yards  are  all  there,  and  the 
whole  thing  is  a  fine  example  of  what 
can  be  done  in  the  way  of  tree-training. 
This  particular  tree  is  situated  in  the 
grounds  of  the  Kinkakuji  (or  Gold- 
Covered)  Temple  in  Kioto,  Japan. 
The  grounds  of  this  temple  are  full  of 
similar  curiosities,  and  most  of  the 
landscape  gardens  of  Japan  are  copied 
from  it. 

In  s[)ite  of  modern  innovations  there 
are  still  many  (juaint  sights 
to  be  seen  in  Holland,  as 
the  accompanying  photo- 
graph will  show.  The  weird- 
looking,  prehistoric  vehicle 
seen  in  the  jjhoto.  was  con- 
structed entirely  of  wood, 
from  the  stout,  box  -  like 
body  to  the  solid  little 
wheels,  and  the  primitive 
harness  of  the  tired-looking 
horse  consisted  principally 
of  rope  and  odd  bits  of 
leather.  The  shape  of  the 
single  bent-up  shaft  reminds 
one  of  the  old  -  fashioned 
Dutch  skate,  and  the  same 
pattern  is  to  be  seen  on 
many  Dutch  vehicles. 

The  jihotograph  at  the 
top  of  the  following  page 
was  taken  in  Michigan  last 
May,  at  half-past  seven  in 
the   morning,   and   shows  a 


520 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


7S 


A    SUUDlvN    CHANliE   OK    TKMPFJ;  A  TU  Kli— ATl'LE    'lUhliS    IN    FULL    BLOSSOM     LADEN' 


]■  10)11  a\ 


WITH    SNOW. 


miniber  of  apple  trees  in  full  blossom,  heavily 
Inden  with  snow.  Between  the  hours  of  mid- 
night and  5  a.m.  a  fall  of  no  less  than  35deg. 
took  place  in  the  temperature — a  change  which 
in  the  ordinary  way  would  havejbeen  absolutely 
disastrous  to  the  fruit-growers.  Four  indies  of 
snow  fell  at  the 
same  time,  how- 
ever, and,  form- 
ing a  protective 
mantle,  saved 
manyof  the  trees 
from  severe  in- 
jury by  frost.  .\ 
few  hours  after 
the  photograph 
was  taken  the 
snow  had  dis- 
appeared, and 
spring  went  on 
as  thougli  no 
interru[)tion  had 
ever  occurred. 

O  u  r  next 
J)  h  o  t  og  r  .1  p  ii 
sIkjws  a  remark- 
able bridge  over 
the  River  Indus 
at  Rondu,  in 
Northern    Kash- 


mir. This  frail-look- 
ing structure — which 
crosses  a  rocky 
gorge,  through  which 
the  river  runs  at 
a  tremendous  rate 
— consists  of  three 
ropes,  one  foot-rope 
and  two  side-ropes, 
joined  together  by 
short  lengths  of  rope 
at  intervals  of  a  few 
feet.  The  three 
main  ropes  consist 
of  long  switches  of 
brushwood  roughly 
bound  together,  the 
two  side  -  strands 
being  kept  apart  by 
forked  stakes  at  in- 
tervals of  twenty 
feet.  Needless  to 
say,  the  crossing  of 
these  swinging,  sway- 
ing structures  is  not 
a  very  pleasant  ex- 
perience, and  in- 
trepid mountaineers  have  been  known  to  turn 
sick  with  terror  in  the  iniddle,  although  the 
native  coolies  cross  most  light  -  heartedly 
with  heavy  loads.  The  bridge  seen  in  the 
photo,  has  been  described  as  one  of  the 
worst   in   the   Himalayas. 


[Photo. 


J'  iiiiii  n) 


III.MALAVAS  I    , , 

Willi     lEUKUK    IN 


I'   >    '.  I  AIM-.ERS    HAVE 
IHE    MIDDLE. 


IJEEN     KNOW.-, 


[Photo. 


u. 

c 


< 

X 

y 
y. 


O 


<  - 

J  a: 

s: 

<  ?^ 

^  = 

C  f- 


y 


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O 

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o 
2: 


*'  iiiL  siiai;k   rusk  out  ov  'nil-,  si;\,   iiis  v.odv  towi-kixg  aho\k  us.' 

(SKK    l;V.\:    52b.) 


Tun  WiDi'  World  Mac \z ink. 


Vol.   X. 


.M.VRCIl,     i<A)3. 


No.  60. 


The    "  Devil  -  Shark." 


Bv  Coi.ONi.i.  Julius  CI.  Tucki:r. 

While  acting  as  U.S.  Consul  at  St.  Pierre,  Martinique,  the  author  paid  a  visit  to  the  Canbs  of 
Dominica,  the  descendants  of  the  original  inhabitants  of  the  islands.  He  found  the  natives  almost 
starving,  as  they  were  unable  to  engage  in  fishing  owing  to  the  attacks  of  a  monster  "  devil- 
shark,"  which  had  already  carried  off  two   men.      Colonel  Tucker  relates   how  he  went    in    search 

of  the  '■  devil-shark  "  and  succeeded  m  shooting  it. 


N  tilt:  year  1S96  1  resided  as  Consul 
of  the  United  States  in  St.  Pierre, 
Martinique.  I  shared  the  expenses 
of  housekeeping  with  a  young 
Englishman  iianied  Stanley  Cum- 
berland, a  native  of  Richmond,  lie  was  the 
cashier  ni  the  local  branch  of  the  Colonial  Bank 
of  London. 

Duruig  the  year  we  lived  together  Mr. 
( 'uml)erland  obtained  leave  of  absence  from  the 
bank  for  the  purpose  of  visiting  the  remnanl  of 
an  ancient  tribe  of  Carib  Indians  living  on  the 
Atlantic  side  of  the  Island  of  Dominica.  Two 
tribes  of  these  Indians  once  hved  in  the  Island 
of  St.  Vincent,  the  black  Caribs  and  the  yellow 
("aribs,  but,  as  ihev  were  constantly  engaged 
1:1  mortal  strife,  tlie  yellow  Caribs  were  trans- 
ported from  Si.  Vincent  to  Dcjminica  by  ihc 
British  (Government,  who  allotted  them  land  to 
live  upon.  ihey  were  said  to  retain  in  that 
inaccessible  spot  the  primitive  manners  and 
•  ustoms  (A  theii'  forefathers,  who  originally 
mliabited  all  the  islands  of  the  Lesser  Antilles. 
This  renniant  ol  an  ancient  people,  however, 
ret;iiji  nothing  ot  the  fierceness  of  bygone  ages, 
for  they  are  now  gentle  and  timid  in  ilemeanour, 
and  are  rarely  seen  away  from  their  allotted 
homes  in  the  district,  called  by  the  few  other 
inhabitants  of  the  island  the  "Indian  country." 
'I'he  C!aribs  are  still  skilful  hunters,  and  will 
venture  out  fishing  in  a  sea  the  roughness  ol 
which  would  appal  the  Ijest  boatmen  of  the 
Leeward  Islands.  They  possess  a  lew  oxen, 
ponies,  and  sheep,  and  sujjport  themselves  by 
luinting,  fishing,  basket-making,  and  the  cultiva 
lion  of  small  fields  of  mai/e  and  vegetables. 
Vol.  X.— 66. 


I'hey  live  in  rudely  constructed  huts,  wear  but 
few  clothes,  and  speak  a  jargon  known  as 
"  pigeon  English." 

Mr.  Cumberland  carried  out  his  intention  of 
\isiting  their  country,  but  failed  in  his  attempt  to 
reach  the  Caribs  by  reason  of  having  been  dc 
serted  by  his  guides,  whom  he  had  employed  in 
the  town  of  Roseau,  on  the  Caribbean  side  of 
the  island.  He  informed  me  on  his  return  that 
there  were  thirty  miles  of  trackless  forest  to 
traverse  before  reaching  the  Atlantic  side  of 
the  island,  and  that  it  would  be  well  to  take  a 
compass  along  if  I  contemplated  the  journey. 
Me  himself,  I  regret  to  say,  was  never  able 
to  visit  the  country  again,  for  although  of 
powerful  build  he  succumbed  to  the  trying 
climate  of  the  \\'est  Indies,  and  was  buried 
in  the  beautilul  little  cemetery  on  the  hillside 
of  St.    rierre. 

In  due  course  I  made  up  my  mind  to  visit 
these  curious  i)eople.  Poor  Cumberland  had 
informed  me  that  guides  were  to  be  obtained  in 
Roseau  from  an  old  negro  called  Cockroach, 
and  1  set  to  work  to  make  my  prepara- 
tions for  the  journey.  I  purchased  a  water- 
light  Carib  basket  and  a  lot  of  cheap  jewellery 
as  presents  for  the  women,  took  only  a  change 
of  clothes  for  myself,  and  filled  the  basket  with 
canned  provisions  and  a  bottle  of  rum.  I 
carried  besides  an  excellent  ICnglish  double- 
barrelled  shot-gun  of  No.  10  bore,  and  plenty 
of  carefully  loaded  shells,  as  well  as  a  thin  but 
stout  cotton  rope  to  assist  me  in  <rossing 
swollen  streams,  as  I  am  not  a  strong  swimmer. 
Thus  prepared.  I  intended  to  spend  a  week 
with  the  Indian.s. 


5-M 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


After  having  applied  for  and  obtained  leave 
of  absence,  I  started  for  Roseau  and  inquired 
for  Mr.  Cockroach,  whom  I  found  to  be  a 
grizzled  old  negro.  Having  made  my  wishes 
known  regarding  the  hiring  of  guides,  the  old 
man  remarked  :  "  Master,  I'se  getting  too  old 
to  go  to  the  Indian  country  myself,  but  you  can 
have  my  son  and  another  boy  named  David, 
who  know  the  road  well."  Cockroach  sent 
for  his  son  and  David,  an  agreement  was  soon 
entered  into,  and  we  started  at  five  o'clock  the 
following  morning,  setting  our  faces  towards  the 
distant  mountains.  There  is  only  one  industry 
carried  on  in  Dominica — the  raising  of  "  limes" 
— but  cultivation  only  extends  about  five  miles 
beyond  Roseau,  after  which  you  enter  the 
virginal  forest,  where  no  sign  of  a  path  or  road 
is  to  be  seen.  Relying  upon  the  sagacity  of  my 
guides  I   plodded  laboriously  onwards,   fording 


early,  not  having  traversed  more  than  six 
or  seven  miles.  Making  an  early  start  the 
next  morning  we  travelled  slowly  until  noon, 
when  another  terrific  rainstorm  set  in,  which 
compelled  us  to  go  into  camp,  as  travelling  was 
almost  impossible.  During  the  morning  I  had 
heard  young  Cockroach  grumbling,  and  after 
getting  into  camp  he  remarked  :  "  Master,  I'se 
done  lost  the  road,  and  I  links  we  better  turn 
back."  "  How  can  you  lose  a  thing  which  doesn't 
e.xist  ?  "  I  asked.  "  You  may  say  that  you  have 
lost  the  direction,  but  that  makes  no  difference, 
for  I  have  my  compass,  which  always  tells  me 
which  way  to  go.  Both  of  you  must  understand 
that  there  is  no  going  back  for  me  until  I  havr 
visited  the  Indians.  If  you  desert  me  now  1 
will  find  the  road  by  myself,  but  rest  assured 
that  if  you  leave  me  I  shall  find  you  in 
Roseau    upon    my    return    and    shall    not    only 


KEI.VING    UPON    THE   SAGACITY   OF     MY    Gl'IDRS 
I'LOrjDEP   I.AIIOKIOLSI.V   ONW AMIS." 


shallow  streams 
which  crossed  our 
path,  or  climbing 
steep  mountain  sides. 

Wi;  had  travelU;d  thus  for  several  houis  when 
lowermg  clouds  heralded  the  approach  of  rain, 
which  soon  descended,  not  in  drops,  but  m 
i)iK:ketful.s.  It  seemed  as  though  the  bottom 
had  dropped  out  of  the  sky  and  that  all  the 
water  which  had  been  accumulated  for  years 
was  now  being  poured  out  upon  our  devoted 
heads.  Under  these  conditions  we  made  but 
slow  progress  and  accordingly  went  into  camp 


CL'llt, 


Diakc    liunns 


not    pay    you 

hot  for  you." 

This  little  spe(.'(h  iiad  the  ^le.^irc(l  effect, 
for  after  I  had  asked  young  Cockroach  what  he 
intended  to  do,  receiving  the  reply  that  he  would 
'■stick  to  me,"  David  on  his  part  declared,  "  1 
slicks  to  you  too."  Peace  being  thus  restoretl 
we  started  out  again,  and  afkr  swimming  many 
streams  and  enduring  ihe  hardships  of  mountain 
climbing  we  reached  the  Indian  village  at  noon 
upon  the  fifth  day  after  leaving  Roseau. 

I'l^on   entering   the   long,   straggling  street    I 


THE    "DKVII,- SHARK." 


slopped  suddenly  aiul  looked  about  mc  in 
amazement.  Ihe  village  seemed  deserted:  there 
was  not  a  living  human  being  in  siglit.  What 
astonished  me  even  more  was  the  fact  that  a 
number  of  dogs  were  lying  about  tlie  huts,  but 
not  one  of  them  uttered  a  bark  or  even  raised 
his  head  to  look  at  us.  "  Tiiere  is  something 
wrong  here,"  remarked  1  to  Cockroach,  who 
>eemed  frightened  by  the  strange  silence  of  the 
])Iace.  I  walked  right  into  the  middle  of  the 
\illage  without  encountering  a  living  being.  I 
had  stO[)ped  again,  pu/zled,  when  suddenly  an 
old  Indian  stepped  to  the  door  of  a  cottage. 
.Addressing  him  I  asked  :  '"  What  is  the  matter 
here  ?       Are  all   the  i)eople  dead  ?  " 

■•  No,  master,"  said  he,  '"  we 
are  not  dead  yet,  but  we  are 
starving." 

•■  How  is  that  possible,"  I 
asked.  '•  when  I  see  fields  of 
(  orn  growing  near  here?" 

■'Yes,"  replied  the  Indian, 
"  the  corn  is  growing,  but  it  is 
not  ripe  yet." 

'•  Where   does  .  your    head 
man,   W'atson,    live?"    1   next 
inquired. 

*'  Over  there,"  said  he,  "  in 
that  long  house." 

I  crossed  the  street  to  the 
house  indicated,  the  door  of 
which  stood  open.  Rapping 
on  the  panel,  a  grizzled  Indian 
appeared.  He  was  a  man 
over  fifty  years  of  age,  of 
solid  build,  but  with  a  drawn 
.tnd  scared  look  upon  his 
face. 

•'Are  von  Mr.  Watson  ?  "  I 
-,iul. 

'■  Yes,  master,"  replied  he. 
■  I  am  the  American  Consul 
iA    -Martinique,"   I   continued, 
"  and  I  have  come  to  pay  you 
a  visit." 

'•  You  are  very  welcome, 
master,"  rej)lied  the  Intlian  : 
'■  l)ut  we  have  nothing  to  eat 
—  we  are  starving.  Hut  step 
into  the  h<^use  and    I   will   tell 


'•  .Master,  we  are  starving,  lor  wc  aie  iienmied 
in  by  a  devil." 

"  Hemmed    in    bv    a    devil  I "    I    repeated. 
"What  kind  of  a  devil?" 

'■  He  is  a  devil-shark,"  replied  the  old  man, 
solemnly.  "Three  weeks  ago  yesterday  we 
were  all  happy.  We  had  plenty  to  eat,  for  we 
live  by  fishing,  and  then  all  at  once  trouble 
came.  I  went  out  in  the  big  canoe  with  six 
men  fishing,  when  suddenly  the  devil -shark 
appeared  close  to  the  canoe.  He  raised  his 
head,  looked  at  us,  then  dived  down  and  came 
up  under  the  canoe,  upsetting  it.  He  then 
grabbed  Pete,  one  of  our  men,  and  swam  off 
with  him.      We  all  got  back  into  the  canoe  and 


linterinu   the    k 


narrow 


you  about   it. 
room  — from    the 


.f,  ^—  long, 
farther  end  of  which  I  had  heard  sounds  f)f 
wailing,  as  of  women  and  children,  which  sud- 
denly sto|)i»ed  upon  my  entrance--!  seatetl 
myself  upon  a  low  chair,  while  Cockroach  and 
1  )avid,  who  had  followed  me  into  the  house, 
stjUTtted  ui)on  the  floor.  The  headman,  after 
having  Seated  himself  upon  an  empty  box.  began 
his  tale  as  follows  : 


rowed  for  shore  as  hard  as  we  < oukl.  We  were 
all  loo  scared  to  go  out  again  fishing,  but  when 
our  provisions  gave  out  we  were  forced  to  go. 
'I'hat  was  ten  days  ago  yesterday.  Wc 
went  out  again,  and  had  been  fishing  about 
half  an  hour  when  the  devil-shark  he  come 
again  ;  he  raise  his  head  clear  out  the  water 
and  look  at  us.  Then  he  dive  under  the  canoe, 
upset  it,  and  swim  olT  with  Hernard.  Wc  all 
got   to  shore  again   as   hard   as  we  could,  and 


;26 


THH     \VIi)H     WORLD     >[A(;.\Z1X  K. 


since  then  have  had  no  fish,  for  we  dare  not  go 
out.  We  don't  know  what  to  do,  for  if  we  move 
farther  along  the  shore  the  devil-shark  he  sure 
to  follow  ;  and  if  we  cross  over  the  other  side  of 
the  island  we  have  no  land  and  must  starve.  I 
have  called  a  meeting  for  to-night  of  all  the 
people  to  talk  it  over  and  see  what  is  to  be 
done." 

Then  he  hung  his  head  and  groaned.  Whilst 
he  was  relating  his  tale  of  woe  the  thought 
occurred  to  me — could  I  not  help  these  poor 
people  by  killing  the  shark  for  them  ?  My 
resolution  was  soon  taken.  Looking  at  Watson, 
who  sat  with  bowed  head  opi)Osite  me,  I  arose, 
walked  over  to  him,  and  laid  my  hand  upon  his 
shoulder.  "  Hold  up  your  head  and  listen  to 
me,  Watson,"  I  said.  "  I 
am  not  afraid  of  this 
devil  -  shark  :  1  have 
caught  and  shot  sharks 
before.  I  have  an  e.v- 
cellent  gun  here  with  me 
and  plenty  of  ammu- 
nition, and  if  you  can 
furnish  me  with  a  boat's 
crew  I  will  rid  you  of 
the  monster.  How  man\- 
men  does  your  biggest 
canoe  hold  ?  " 

'•  Kight  men,"  replied 
the  headman. 

"  I  only  want  six,"  I 
said,  "and  you  to  steer. 
When  your  people  meet 
this  evening  I  will  call 
for  volunteers  for  the 
work,  and  we  will  start 
out  early  in  the  morning 
and  pay  a  visit  to  his 
.\Lnjesty  the  Devil 
Shark." 

Turning  to  Cockroach 
and  Dqvid,  who  had 
listened  will)  o[)en  mouths 
and  terror-stricken  eyes, 
I  remarked,  "  I  suppose 
I  can  count  on  you  two 
boys  to  go  with  me  to 
hunt  the  'devil.'  cant 
I?" 

To  whn  li  Cockroaeh 
with  alacrity  replied. 
"No,  sir;  I'se  conn 
with  you  to  carry  your 
traps  and  bring  yon 
to  the  Indians,  and  I 
don't  want  to  hunt  no 
sharks.       What    do    you 

•S.-IV.    D:ui<1  ^  •' 


"  I  n(j  hunt  no  sharks  nuther,"  said  he. 

.\fter  eating  a  light  supper  I  repaired,  accom- 
l)anied  by  Watson,  to  the  meeting-ground,  where 
I  found  all  the  members  of  the  colony  assembled. 
Watson,  in  introducing  me  to  the  crowd,  started 
off  by  saying  that  the  (lieat  Spirit  had  sent 
them  a  deliverer,  a  mighty  hunter  who  had 
come  to  kill  the  devil  shark,  so  I  soon  stopped 
him  by  asking  him  if  he  had  any  beans  in  his 
house.  "  Only  a  very  few,"  he  replied.  Where- 
upon I  asked  him  to  send  a  boy  to  bring  me  a 
handful.  The  boy  presently  returned  with  the 
beans,  and  from  among  them  I  selected 
six  white  and  six  coloured  ones,  which  I  placed 
in  my  hat.  Then  I  called  for  volunteers  to 
accompanv   me   the   next   morning  on  my  hunt 


UAi.soN  siAuiEo  on.   i.v  savim;  that  tiik  r.Kr-.AT  sniur   had  s..:nt  tiIi-m  a  ni  i.ivi  i;i 


ini-:   "  L)i:\iL-sii.\kK.'" 


for  tlic  devil  shark.  (Juitc  ii  luuiibcr  of  young 
Icllows  stepped  forward.  I  selected  twelve  of 
these,  standing  them  in  a  row  and  explaining 
that  I  only  wanted  six  men,  hut  that  they 
should  draw  lots,  by  each  taking  a  bean  out  of 
the  hat.  The  men  drawing  while  beans  were  to 
remain  at  home,  while  those  drawing  red 
beans  should  go  witli  me.  The  drawing  being 
completed,  I  returned  home,  after  having  told 
my  men  to  be  sure  and  be  at  the  landing  at 
sunrise  the  next  morning.  On  our  way  I  asked 
Watson  how  long  the  shark  looked  at  them 
l)efore  attacking  the  canoe. 

•'  As  long  as  it  takes  to  count  one,  two,  three, 
four,  five,  six,"  he  said. 

'I"his  was  (juite  time  enough  for  mc,  as  I 
intended  to  shoot  the  brute  through  the  eyes  as 
soon  as  he  appeared  above  the  water. 

I  tokl  Watson  that  I  wanted  him  to  steer 
the  canoe,  and,  although  seemingly  badly 
frightened,  he  agreed  to  go.  I  instructed 
him  to  have  a  small  keg  of  water  placed  in 
the  canoe,  and  also  some  ropes.  I  told  him, 
fmlhermore,  to  Ijring  the  fishing-tackle  along, 
as  we  miglit  not  see  the  devil-shark  after  all. 

When  I  reached  Watson's  house  I  saw  C.'ock- 
rf)ach  and  David  seated  on  the  ground  outside 
engaged  in  close  conversation.  After  a  few 
moments  Cockroach  entered  the  room  and 
said,  "  Master,  will  you  be  kind  eiK)ugh  to 
step  out  a  moment?  .Me  and  Daxid  wnnt  to 
talk  to  you."  Complying  with  this  re<iuest 
I  stejjped  out  of  doors,  when  to  my  surprise 
Cockroach  came  close  up  to  me  and  in  an 
agitated  voice  said,  "  Master,  me  and  David 
have  talked  over  the  matter  of  your  going  to 
hunt  the  devil-shark  to-morrow  and  risk  vour 
life  for  these  Indians,  and  we  come  to  beg  you 
not  to  do  it.  Vou  is  a  good  man,  and  we  don't 
want  to  see  you  eaten  up  by  a  big  devil-shark, 
and  all  for  a  lot  of  wild  Indians.  Don't  risk 
your  life,  master,  but  come  back  with  us  to 
Roseau." 

When  he  stopped  speaking  I  actually  saw  a 
large  tear  roll  down  his  cheek.  David  stood  by 
with  bowed  head  and  never  uttered  a  word. 

"What  do  you  say,  David  ?  ''  (lueried  I. 

"  I  says  the  same,  master,"' replied  he,  "and 
beg  you  to  come  home  with  us  to-night  and  no 
fight  no  devil-shailc." 

I  feit  much  afLcted  by  this  show  of  feeling 
on  the  part  of  these  semi-civilized  boys.  Reach- 
ing out  my  hand  I  grasped  and  shook  theirs 
heartily,  .saying  :  "  \'ou  are  good  boys,  and  I 
thank  you  for  your  advice,  but  I  cannot  accept 
it,  as  I  have  promised  to  help  these  jioor  people 
by  ridding  them  of  this  monster  shark,  of  which 
I  have  not  the  slightest  fear.  In  order  that  you 
may  not  be  the  losers,  however,  in  case  anything 


should  happen  to  me,  I  will  pay  yuu  lue  moner 
due  you  for  bringing  me  here,  and  for  your 
return.'  I  added  an  extra  allowance  to  the 
amount  aiul  handed  it  to  them.  'I'hey  took  it 
without  asking  the  total  or  even  looking  at  it, 
simply  saying,  "  Thank  you,  master,"  and  shak- 
ing their  heads. 

I  then  went  inside  and  wrote  a  certificate  for 
both,  setting  forth  that  they  had  served  me  faith- 
fully, and  this  I  handed  them,  again  shaking 
hands  with  them.  I  left  them  standing  there 
looking  sorrowfully  after  me  as  I  re-entered  the 
cottage. 

Before  sunrise  the  whole  [)opulation  of  the 
village  was  gathered  on  the  shore.  Prior  to 
entering  the  waiting  canoe  I  addres.sed  ^^'atson 
and  the  six  men.  "  I  want  you  to  understand," 
I  said,  "  that  you  must  obey  [)romptly  every 
order  which  I  may  give,  as  our  lives  may  depend 
upon  it,'  to  which  Watson  replied,  "  Ves, 
master.'  I  then  fastened  my  own  rope  arouml 
my  waist,  tying  the  other  end  to  the  head  of 
the  canoe,  and,  having  procured  a  strong 
fishing-line,  I  tied  one  end  to  the  rope  and  the 
other  end  to  the  stock  of  my  gun.  This  was  so 
that  I  should  not  lose  it  in  the  event  of  the 
canoe  being  upset.  I  wore  only  a  blue  flannel 
shirt,  trousers,  and  hat.  In  the  pocket  of  my 
shirt  I  placed  my  supply  of  ammunition,  and 
thus  equipped  stepped  into  the  canoe,  followed 
by  the  six  men  and  Watson,  whom  I  especially 
warned  to  pilot  us  carefully  through  the 
breakers,  as  I  did  not  want  my  gun  to  get  wet. 
We  passed  the  surf  safely  and  rowed  out  about 
half  a  mile  beyond  to  the  fishing-grounds, 
where  we  stopped  and  commenced  to  fi.sh. 
The  sea  was  as  smooth  as  a  lake :  not  a 
ripple  ilisturbed  the  surface,  and  while  the  men 
were  busy  fishing  I  lay  stretched  out  in  the  l-ow 
of  the  canoe  keeping  a  sharp  look-out  for  the 
shark.  We  had  fished  thus  for  fully  half  an 
hour  with  much  success,  when  suddenly  the  man 
nearest  me  called  out  in  terror,  '•  I  )ar  he  i.s,  dar 
he  is  :  "  "  \\'hereabouts?'  asked  J.  "  Dar,  dar  !  " 
shouted  several  voices,  pointing  to  an  object 
some  eighty  )ards  distant. 

Looking  in  the  indicated  direction  I  beheld, 
sure  enough,  an  enormous  tin  slicking  out  of  the 
water  and  approaching  us  slowly.  "  Throw 
d(}wn  your  lines  and  sit  perfectly  still,'  I  com 
manded.  .\s  I  looked  around  at  them  I  found 
that  the  whole  of  my  crew  had  changed  colour. 
There  was  not  a  yellow  Carib  amongst  them  : 
their  faces  were  of  an  ashy-grey  colour,  and  all 
looked  badly  scared,  while  some  were  trembling 
violently.  "  Keep  steady  now,  boys,"  I  said, 
with  a  smile.  The  latter  was  done  to  encourage 
them,  for  I  did  not  in  the  least  feel  like  smiling. 
.Meantime  the  shark  had  approached  in  a  direct 


52« 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


line  to  within  about  thirty  yards  of  us,  wlien  he 
suddenly  sheered  off,  and  I  thought  he  was  going 
to  pass  us  by.  Presently,  however,  he  turned  and 
approached  parallel  with  the  canoe,  and  when 
within  fifteen  yards  stopped  and  raised  his  enor- 
mous head  clear  out  of  the  water.  My  gun  was 
levelled  at  him,  and  as  soon  as  his  eye  appeared 
above  the  surface  it  spoke  twice— bang  1  bang  ! 
At  the  report  of  the  weapon  that  awful  head 
disappeared. 

While  I  was  (juickly  shoving  two  cartridges 
into  the  chamber  the  shark  ro.'it;  out  of  the  sea, 
his  body  towering  above  us  and  his  whiLe  belly 
gleaming  like  molten  silver  in  the  sunshine. 
"  I'ull,  pull— for  your  lives  !  ''  shouted  I,  at  the 
same  time  emptying  both  barrels  into  the  shark. 
He  fell  into  the  sea  with  a  tremendous  splash, 
missing  the  canoe  by  not  more  than  six  feet. 
Had  he  hit  us  we  should  inevitably  have  been 
swamped,  and  as  it  was  we  came  very  near  it, 
for  the  sea  leaped  aboard  of  us,  filling  the  canoe 
two  thirds  full  of  water. 

I  had  never  taken  my  eye  off  the  shark,  and 
as  he  now  lay  still  upon  the  surface  of  the  water 
I  knew  he  was  dead.  "  Cease  pulling  I  "  I  said, 
l)ut,  instead  of  stojjping,  the  Caribs,  now 
thoroughly  terrified,  only  {)ullcd  the  harder. 
'■  Cease  pulling  ! "  I  shouted  again,  at  the  same 
time  bringing  the  now  empty  gun  to  bear  upon 
Watson;  "cease,  1  tell  you,  or  I'll  blow  your 
head  off !  "  This  he  understood  at  once  and 
changed  his  course.  As  we  came  alongside  the 
shark,  who  lay  with  his  belly  turned  towards  the 
sun,  I  asked  the  man  nearest  me  for  his  knife. 
1 'lunging  it  into  the  belly  of  tlie  fish,  I 
made  a  long  gash  from  which  the  blood 
spouted,  and  on  seeing  this  the  Indians  began 
to  realize  that  the  dreaded  devil-shark  was  dead. 
Watson  now  rose  and,  drawing  his  knife,  plunged 
it  into  the  shark,  saying,  "This  is  for  Pete." 
I'lien  withdrawing  it  and  making  another 
lunge,  he  said,  " 'I'his  is  for  Bernard";  and 
once  again  repeating  the  stroke,  "  This  is  for 
me."  This  action  was  instantly  followed  by 
every  man  on  board,  each  one  repeating, 
.solemnly,  "This  is  for  Pete,"  "'J'his  is  for 
Hernard,"  and  "  This  is  for  me  "  ;  after  which 
tiiere  arose  a  shout  of  victory,  long  drawn  out 
and  shrill.  The  cry  was  heard  upon  the  shore, 
from  whence  a  faint  answer  reached  my  ears. 

During  the  stabbing  performance  I  sat 
<|uietly  by,  taking  in  the  scene  and  inwardly 
rejoicing  that  the  monster  lay  dead  befoie  me. 
I  now  told  Watson  to  make  fast  to  one  of  his  lins 
and  to  his  Knver  jaw,  which  hung  open  in  the 
water,  the  second  shot  having  broken  it  on  its 
pivot.  This  order  was  ciuickly  obeyed  and  we 
then  pro'jeeded  towards  the  shore,  slowly  pulling 
the  .shark  a!jng.     15elore  reaching  the  first  line 


of  breakers  a  novel  sight  met  my  eye.  7'here 
appeared  a  canoe  upon  the  crest  of  the  wave,  in 
which  was  standing  a  tall  Indian  girl,  using  her 
long  paddle  with  desperate  energy.  When 
about  fifteen  yards  away  from  us  she  suddenl\ 
dropped  her  j^addle,  jumped  into  the  sea,  and 
approached  the  shark,  taking  from  between  her 
teeth  a  long,  keen-edged  knife,  which  she 
repeatedly  plunged  into  the  monster,  the  while 
uttering  shrill  cries.  After  this  she  swam  back 
to  her  canoe  and  paddled  to  the  shore.  Not  a 
word  had  been  uttered  by  any  of  us,  but  after 
she  gained  her  canoe  and  paddled  away  \Vatson 
said,  quietly,  "She  is  the  wife  of  Bernard." 

In  a  few  moments  more  we  were  surrounded 
by  men,  women,  and  children,  some  astride  ol 
a  couple  of  sticks,  some  in  canoes,  and  some 
simply  swimming  along,  but  all  haj)py  antl 
laughing.  Watson,  who  now  seemed  to  have  re- 
gained full  control  of  himself,  ordered  .some  men 
to  return  to  shore  to  bring  downi  a  pair  of  oxen. 
in  order  to  help  drag  the  devil-shark  on 
.shore,  for  he  was  now  stranded  in  about  three 
feet  of  water.  Ropes  were  also  brought  and 
manned,  and  with  the  help  of  the  oxen,  who 
were  driven  into  the  sea.  the  monster  was  finall\ 
safely  landed  on  shore. 

My  task  being  done  I  stepped  on  shore,  and 
then  began  to  realize  that  I  had  been  exfjosed 
to  the  hot  sun  for  several  hours.  I  felt  faint  and 
thirsty,  and  accordingly  seated  myself  under  a 
stunted  tree  on  the  shore,  where  a  calabash  ot 
fresh  water,  brought  me  by  an  Indian  girl,  .soon 
revived  me.  At  this  moment  Cockroach  and 
David  came  running  up,  carrying  a  i)ail  ot  fresh 
water  and  some  clothes,  and  a[)parently  wild 
with  joy  at  seeing  me  alive.  They  rudely  shoved 
aside  the  natives  who  had  gathered  around  me 
at  a  respectful  distance  and  began  to  pour  the 
fresh  water  over  my  head  and  neck,  which 
greatly  refreshed  me. 

A  few  moments  lalei  Watson  appeared,  lead- 
ing by  the  hand  a  young  woman,  who,  upon 
ai)proaching  me,  fell  at  my  feet  crying,  and 
speaking  so  rapidly  that  I  did  not  understand  a 
single  word  she  uttered.  Turning  to  Watson  in 
my  perplexit)-  1  in(|uired,  "  \\'hat  docs  she 
want  ?  " 

"  Her  be  the  wile  of  IVte,"  replied  the  head- 
man. "  She  come  to  thank  you  for  killing  the 
devil-shark.  Her  thank  you  for  avenging  Bete  ; 
her  say  her  your  slave  :  lur  want  to  brusl" 
your  clothes  and  clean  \(>m  hoots  ;  her  say 
her  want  to  be  your  servant  and  wife  'Am]  to  go 
with  you  wherever  you  go." 

Here  was  a  nice  proposition  for  a  married 
man  1  " 'I'ell  her  that  I  am  very  glad  to  ha\e 
killed  the  devil-shark,"  I  said:  "tell  her  1  thank 
her  for   her   offer  to    be   mv  servant  and   wife  ; 


'IHK     "DIAII. -SHARK. 


tell  her  I   have  a  wife  already  and  can't  have 
two,  but  tell  her  that  I  thank  her  very  nuieh." 

After  Watson  had  told  lar  what  1  said  the 
woman  kissed  my  feet,  nun  h  to  my  disfjust,  and 
walked   awav,    but    the    headman    returned    im- 


5^9 


other  vielims.  Fires  were  built  in  every  direc- 
tion, and  shark  meat  was  being  fried,  boiled, 
and  broiled.  I  was  not  forgotten,  for  the  fins, 
which  are  considered  the  honm-  boiiche  of  a  shark, 
were  reser\ed  and  served  up   to  me.      ICven  the 


'■  A   YOUNi;    WOMAN    FtXL    AT    MV    1-liET. 


nu-diutel}'  to  inlurni  nu-  that  the  wife  of  iJernard 
—  the  woman  who  had  stabbed  the  shark — was 
ill  from  the  excitement,  but  had  begged  him  to 
thank  me  for  having  avenged  the  death  of  her 
husband,  and  to  tell  me  she  would  be  my 
servant  as  soon  as  she  was  well  again,  to  all 
of  w'.iich  I  sent  her  a  friendiv  and  consolinu 
message. 

1  )uring  this  time  a  very  li\ely  scene  was  being 
enacted  on  the  Ijeach.  The  shark  had  been  cut 
oi)en,  and  a  large  brogan  shoe,  such  as  sailors 
wear,  was  Ibund  in  his  stomach  ;  but  when  1 
in'juired  if  il  hatl  belonged  to  either  Pete  or 
IJernard  I  was  informed  that  they  had  worn 
sandals,    so   that    the    brute    had   evidenllv    had 


(logs   had    found    their  tongues  again,    for  they 
were  barking  and  growling  at  one  another. 

The  following  morning  my  guides  left  me,  a.-> 
1  had  decided  to  spend  a  week  with  my  newly- 
found  friends,  who  promised  to  conduct  me  to 
Roseau  whenever  1  wanted  to  leave,  as  ihey 
knew  the  nearest  direct  route.  I  spent  ten  days 
with  these  (hildreii  of  Nature,  having  a  good 
time  hunting  and  fishing,  and  was  offered  tiie 
whole  village  with  all  it  contained  if  I  would 
but  slop  with  them.  When  I  finally  left  for 
Roseau  half  the  people  accompanied  me  |)art 
of  the  way.  |)ouring  blessings  and  farewell 
benedictions  on  the  white  man  who  had  rid 
them  of  their  devil-shark. 


V  ,1, 


67. 


Paris    to    New    York   Overland. 

THE    NARRATIVE    OF    A    REMARKABLE    EXPEDITION. 

I)V   Harry  de  Windt,  F.R.G.S. 
v.— CAPE    NORTH    TO    BEHRING    STRAITS. 

We  have  much  pleasure  in  announcing  that  we  have  secured  the  sole  and  exclusive  right  to  publish 
the  only  illustrated  account  of  Mr.  de  Windt's  great  feat  which  will  appear  in  this  country,  the 
reproductions  of  the  Kodak  photographs  taken  during  the  expedition  adding  greatly  to  the  vividness  r^f 
the  narrative.  As  a  glance  at  a  map  of  the  world  will  show,  the  explorer's  journey  necessitated 
traversing  some  of  the  wildest  and  most  inhospitable  regions  of  the  earth,  where  even  the  elements 
fought  against  the  intrepid  party.  Mr.  de  Windt  essayed  the  journey  once  before,  but  on  that  occasion 
the  expedition  came  to  grief  on  the  ice-bound  shores  of  Behring  Sea,  and  the  author  barely  escaped 
with  his  life  from  the  hands  of  the  savage  natives.  This  time  complete  success  has  crowned 
the  venture  ;  but  the  adventures  met  with,  and  the  unheard-of  privations  endured  by  the  party, 
form    a   unique    record   of    human    endurance    and    dogged   pluck. 


1 1  \]  journey  enstwards  from  Cape 
North  to  Behring  Strait.s  would,  under 
ordinary  circumstances  of  travel, 
liave  seemed  a  severe  one.  But  we 
had  become  so  inured  to  hardships 
l)etween  the  Kolyma  River  and  "Cape  Despair" 
that  we  could  now  (with  well-lined  stomachs) 
afford  to  laugh  at  the  cold  and  despise  even 
|>eriIous  hli/.zards,  with  friendly  shelter  never 
more  than  twenty  or  thirty  miles  distant.  Our 
diet  was,  perhaps,  not  appetizing,  consisting  as 


it  did  for  the  most  part  of  oily  seal  and  walrus 
meat,  but  driftwood  was  now  much  more 
plentiful  and  we  could  occasionally  revel  in  th 
luxury  of  a  good  fire.  Moreover,  there  was  now 
little  difficulty  in  finding  settlements,  one  of 
which  was  reached,  on  an  average,  every  twenty- 
four  hours.  But  it  was  necessary  to  kee{)  a 
sharp  look-out,  for  the  low,  mushroom-like  huts 
of  the  Tchuktchis  are  invisible  a  short  distance 
away,  and  are  easily  passed  unnoticed  during  a 
fog  or  in  driving  snow.      Fogs,  by  the  way,  were 


/■H>M  n] 


IIIK    AKKIVAI.   OK    TIIK    l-XI'KrJIIION    Al'    KAST   CAI'li,    IIKHRINO    STRAII- 

Copyright,  igo.i,  by  George  N'cwnes,  Limited. 


KoilaK-  riioii' 


I'AKIS     lU     XKW     VUKK     (J\  I.  kl,.\.\  I  ). 


:>j| 


very  {ircvalciit  as  we  nearcd  the  Straits,  and 
became  denser  in  proportion  to  the  a[)proach  of 
summer  and  consequent  rise  of  temperature. 

ICast  ot  Cape  Nortli  we  had  no  bother  wliat- 
ever  with  llie  natives  who,  in  many  places, 
refused  payment  for  food  and  assistance.  At 
Kolyuchin,  a  large  village  situated  on  an  island 
in  the  bay  of  that  name,  we  were  received  with 
open  arms  by  the  chief,  who  s[)oke  a  few  words 
of  iMiglish,  picked  up  from  American  whalemen 
at  East  Ca[)e.  Professor  Nordenskjold's  old 
ship,  the  /vc".  wintered  near  here  some  years 
:igo,  and  some  of  the  natives  showed  '.is  sou\'enirs 


lUit  blue  sky,  dazzling  sunshine,  and  perfect 
stillness    enabled    our    now     nearly    cxliauslcd 

dogs  to  carry  us  across  in  under  seven  hours 

and  I  was  not  sorry  to  reach  the  eastern  shore, 
for  great  lakes  of  open  water  off  the  beach  on 
every  side  betokened  that  we  were  not  a  day  too 
soon.  lYom  here  all  went  well,  and  on  May  lyili 
we  reached  East  Cape,  the  nortli-eastcrnniost 
point  of  Asia,  after  a  voyage  of  nearly  two 
months  from  Sredni-Kolymsk.  I  can  safely  say 
that  that  coast  journey  by  dog-sled  along  the 
Ar(-tic  Ocean  was  the  most  trying  mental  and 
physical  experience  that  I  have  e\cr  undergone 


;i. 

S^»^^d«S 

SSltek 

■  -  -~—    — ^ 

Sk 

4>^«^ 

^ 

TJ*^^^                -^ 

^. 

> 

'% 

l^^k         ^^^*'^^^b3H^^^ 

"^ 

I^^^^^^^^H 

r-^  rf^»-" ■<■-*•■                                           ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^     , 

fc-M^^w^^^*™ 


-^•^--.-•-^•A-' 


m^\ 


i:.\sr  c.\i-i-;,  thk  kx'Ti;i-;.mi-:  .vortii-kastkhn  rfii.sr  oi-   .asia. 


(A  iiiaK-  /'':>^io. 


of  the  Austrian  explorer's  visit  in  the  shape  of 
clasp  knives  and  tin  tobacco  boxes.  'I'he  irony 
of  fate  and  obstinacy  of  pack-ice  are  shown  by 
the  fact  that  one  early  autumn  all  on  board  the 
/vi^rt  were  expecting  an  easy  passage  through 
]?ehring  Straits  to  the  southward,  and  yet 
within  twenty-four  hours  were  compelled  to 
remain  for  another  winter,  .securely  ice-locked 
off  this  dreary  .Siberian  settlement,  until  the 
following  summer  I 

Kolyuchin  liny  was  negotiated  in  beautiful 
weather,  nuich  to  my  relief,  for  I  had  ex- 
perienced .some  misgivings  after  our  terrible 
experiences  while   crossing   the   Bay  of  Tchaun. 


tluring  a  fairly  long  life  of  travel  throughout  the 
wildest  portions  of  the  world. 

I'^ast  Ca[ie  village  consists  of  a  few  walrus- 
hide  huts,  whiih  cling  like  limpets  to  the  lai'e 
of  a  cliff  o\erhanging  the  Straits.  In  windv 
weather  you  can't  go  out  without  danger  of 
being  blown  into  the  sea  :  .so  we  moved  on  to 
Whalen.  a  village  a  few  miles  away,  to  await 
the  revenue  cutter  which  the  .American  Ciovern- 
ment  had  kindly  [)romised  to  send  to  our  re.scue 
when  navigation  opened.  Hut  not  a  sign  of 
open  water  was  yet  visible.  We  were  kindly 
receiveil  at  Whalen  —  too  kinilly,  for  our 
arrival   was    the   signal    for   a    feast,    and    in    a 


THE    WIDE    UORED     MACiAZINE. 


A    ii-iiLKiCiii  cini:i    A  r  wiiai.I'.n. 
Froiii  a  Kodak  Photo. 

frw  liours  every  man  in  the  settle- 
iiKiit  was  mad  with  drink.  I  had  an 
experience  of  this  in  N(jrth-Eastern 
Siberia  in  1896,  and  feared  the  result. 
l"f)rtiniately,  the  chief  remained  sober, 
and  we  hid  in  his  Imt  until  the  on^ie 
was  over,  lint  all  tiiat  night  men  were 
rushin;^  about  the  village  yelling,  firing 
off  Winchesters,  and  vowing  to  kill  us, 
although  they  had  been  ([iiite  friendly 
when  sober.  We  did  not  pass  a 
pleasant  night  ;  but  the  next  day  nl' 
was  (juiet,  and  it  remained  so  until  the 
arrival  of  the  lirst  whaler  a  few  weeks 
later  with  more  whisky.  When  a 
IVhuktchi  gets  drunk  his  first  iin 
pulse  is  to  gel  a  rifle  and  shoot,  lie 
prefers  a  white  man  to  practise  on  : 
l»ut  if  there  are  none  handy  he  will 
kill  anybody,  even  his  mother,  with 
out  compunction,  and  be  very  sorry 
for  it  when  he  is  sober.  Many 
whalemen  have  been  slain  on  this 
coast  during  the  past  ten  year.s,  and 
wliile  we  were  at  Whalen  two  natives 


were  killed,  also  a  Cierman  trader 
on  the  Diomede  Islands,  in  Behring 
Straits. 

Teneskin,  the  chief  of  Whalen,  was, 
luckily  for  ourselves,  a  very  different 
type  of  individual  to  the  ruffian, 
Koari,  with  whom  Harding  and  I 
passed  such  an  unpleasant  time  in 
the  autumn  of  1896.  We  were  then 
attempting  this  journey  in  a  contrary 
direction,  and,  having  successfully 
crossed  Alaska  (no  easy  matter  in 
those  days),  were  landed  by  the  Ameri- 
can revenue  cutter  Bear  at  Oum- 
waidjik  —  a  settlement  about  two 
hundred  miles  south  of  ^Vhalen.  No 
sooner,  however,  had  the  ship  sailed 
away  than  Koari  seized  our  provisions, 
confiscated  our  arms  and  instruments, 
and  informed  us  that  we  were  virtually 
his  prisoners.  Fortunately  a  belated 
whaler,  the  Be/vedere  (the  last  to  leave 
the  Arctic),  noticed  our  signal  of 
distress,  and  after  some  exciting  ex- 
periences we  managed  to  board  her 
and  return  in  safety  to  San  I'"ranci.sco. 
Had  Captain  \Vhiteside  not  taken  us 
off  we  must  have  remained  in  this 
terrible  place  until  the  following  month 


P 


I'roin  ii\ 


i\  TClific  iciu  (-IUL  I'liiiiJiM.   iiiK  uoi.s.         [Kodak  Photo. 


PARIS     lO     NHW     \()RK     OXKKLAND. 


OOJ 


of  July,  but  it  is  iniprobahlc  that  cither  of  us 
would  have  survived  tlie  life  of  unspeakable 
privation  and  suffering  imposed  upon  us  for  such 
a  lengthened  period.* 

At  W'halen,  however,  the  peo|jle  (ab(Hit  three 
luindred  in  number)  were  friendly  enough  ;  and 
beyond  our  filthy  surroundings  and  the  deadly 
monotony  of  our  existence,  without  mental 
recreation  of  anv  kind,  there  was  little  to  com- 
l)!ain  of.  Every  now  and  then  a  drunken  feast 
would  necessitate  close  concealment  in  Tene- 
skin's  hut  until  the  orgie  was  over,  but  this  was 
practically  the  only  annoyance  to  which  we  were 


were  luckily  teetotalers,  and  were  always  ready 
to  protect  us,  by  force  if  necessary,  against  the 
aggressions  of  armed  inebriates.  Indeed,  had 
it  not  been  for  these  three  giants  I  doubt  if 
the  expedition  would  have  got  away  from 
Whalen  without  personal  injury,  or  perhaps 
loss  of  life. 

Teneskin  was  the  i)roud  possessor  of  a  rough 
wooden  hut  built  from  the  timbers  of  a  whaler 
wrecked  here  some  years  ago,  and  in  this  wc 
took  up  our  abode.  Rut  the  building  had  one 
drawback.  Although  its  walls  were  stout  enough, 
a  roof  was  lacking,  and  our  tent   was  a  poor 


From  /t\ 


IHE   chief's    hut   at   WHAI.E.V,    WHERE    MK.    OE   WINDT  STAYED    FIVE   WEEKS. 


[  Kodak  Pilot o. 


subjected.  On  one  occasion,  however,  Stepan 
ventured  out  during  one  of  these  outbursts  and 
was  instantly  fired  at  by  a  band  of  ruffians 
who  were  reeling  about  the  village  in  a 
state  of  drunken  frenzy.  'I'he  man  who 
fired  the  shot  was,  when  sober,  one  of  our 
best  friends  in  the  settlement,  and  luckily  for 
the  Cossack  his  aggressor  was  much  too  drunk 
to  shoot  straight  1  This  incident  was,  therefore, 
a  comparatively  trivial  one,  although  it  served 
to  show  the  unpleasant  affinity  between  a  barrel 
of  whisky  and  bloodshed,  and  the  undesirability 
of  Whalen  as  a  seaside  resort  for  a  longer  period 
than  was  absolutely  necessary.  Our  good 
)riends,     Teneskin    and    his   two  stalwart    sons, 


"  See  "Through   .Maska  to   Behring  Slrail«,' 

(Chaltoaiid  Wiiidiis,  i8oR\ 


t.y  H.    De  WinUt 


substitute.  As  the  spring  wore  on  strong  gale.^, 
accompanied  by  storms  of  sleet,  drove  us  to 
seek  the  warmth  (and  filth)  of  Teneskin's  resi- 
dence, which  adjoined  the  former.  The  chiefs 
hut  was  of  walrus-hide,  about  forty  feet  round, 
and  fifteen  feet  high  in  the  centre.  There  was  a 
large  outer  chamber  for  fishing  and  hunting 
tackle,  where  dogs  roamed  about  ;  and  inside 
this  again  a  small,  dark  inner  room,  formed  of 
thick  deerskins,  where  the  family  ate  and  slept. 
In  here  seal-oil  lamps.  conMnually  burning, 
make  it  average  ab(jut  eighty  five  degrees 
throughout  winter.  There  was  no  ventilation 
whatever,  and  the  heat  and  stench  of  the  place 
were  beyond  description.  At  night  everybody 
stripped  almost  naked,  and  even  then  the  perspi- 
ration poured  off  them.     .\t  the  daily  meal  we 


534 


tup:  wide  world   .magazine. 


From  a\ 


lay  on  the  floor  by  a  long  wooden 
platter,  and  lumps  of  seal  or  walrus 
meat  were  thrown  at  us  by  the 
hostess.  Rotten  goose  eggs  and 
stale  fish-roe,  flavoured  with  seal 
oil,  were  favourite  delicacies,  'i'he 
■I'chuktchis  are  probably  the 
filthiest  race  in  creation  ;  it  would 
be  <juiie  im[)ossible  to  describe 
e\er.  the  least  repulsive  pha.ses  of 
their  daily  life.  The  nights  in  that 
iuit  Were  worthy  of  a  place  in 
Dante's"  Inferno." 

(^n  the  other  hand,  the  hut  of 
our  host  was  certainly  tile  cleanest 
in  the  place,  f(jr  the  foulest  den  in 
the  London  slums  would  have 
a|)peared  attractive  by  com[)arison 
with  most  of  the  others  !  Some 
of  the  men  at  Whalen  spoke  a 
few  words  of  ICnglish,  picked  up 
from  the  whalemen  who  call  here 
every  sumunr,  and  1  was  therefore 
enabled  to  gather  a  considerable 
amount  of  information  respecting 
I'chuktchi  manners  and  customs. 
'I'hcse  peopir  only  number  aboul 
ten  thousanil  in  all.  Aljoul  half 
of  them  are  known  as  "  Rein 
deer-men,"  who  roam  about  the 
plains  and  mountains  of  the  interior 
with  their  herds  of  deer,  and  have 


A    Srl!IN-(;    DAY    AT    \VH  A  l.li.V. 


\Koiial;  rhoto. 


I  III.    LIIII'J'N    DALI.MIKU    V'^     111    i;    HAS    Ill.K 

From  a  Kodak  I^lioto. 


rilOlol.KAlH     lAKt.N. 


I'ARIS      lO     Ni:\\      \()KK     ()\  I.KLAM). 


0.O 


little   or    no    com 
muiiii  ation       with 
their    bretlircn    of 
the    coast.       Both 
triljcs     are    justly 
pioiid   of   the  fact 
thai    they   are   the 
sole  Siberian  abori- 
gines who  success- 
lully    resisted    the 
invasion     of     the 
Cossacks,  and  the 
respect  which  these 
natives      have     in- 
stilled   into  the 
Russians     of      the 
Kolyma  district   is 
jjiobably     due    to 
this  fact.     On  this 
<  oast     north    of 
K.olyuchin      the 
natives    know    no- 
thing      about 
Russia.      America 
is  the  only  country 
they  acknowledge, 
and    wc    therefore 
displayed  the  Stars 
and  Stripes  instead 
of  our  now  tattered 
Union  Jack.  None 
of     these    natives 


IK    FROM    A 

From 


NEK-IIUiiLKING   SE  1  1  l.KMl- 

a  Kodak  Photo. 


had  ever  heard  ol 
the    Czar,    for    his 
officials  nevercoiuc 
here  ;  but  the  cap- 
tain   of  the  grimi- 
est Yankee  whaler 
is  treated  as  a  king, 
for   every  summer 
he  brings  arms  and 
w  h  i  s  k  y  .       '1"  h  e 
men    are    copper- 
coloured,      power- 
fully     built,      and 
(lad   in   deerskins. 
T  h  e  y  are  fine 
sailors,    and      will 
put  to  sea  in  any 
weather     in     their 
llimsy  skin  -  boats. 
Most  of  the   time 
is   passed    in    seal 
or   walrus  fishing  ; 
and  when  a  whale 
is  landed  there  are 
drink   and    debau- 
chery     for      three 
weeks  on  end.  The 
women  are  under- 
sized    little    crea- 
tures,   dressed     in 
deerskin  garments 
and  huge  boots  of 


/■>■('"/  <ii 


THI-.    AL  I  Hi.>K    A\n 


I-    M  li.llllMlKS   AT   WHAl.EN. 


;36 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


From  a] 


TAYING   AN    "AFTERNOON    CALL. 


walrus-hide.  Some  are  pretty,  but  most  Iiave  wonderful  teeth,  whicli,  however,  seldom  last 
hattered,  weather-beaten  faces,  as  they  work  in  long,  for  they  are  soon  destroyed  by  the  constant 
the  open  even  harder  than  the  men.   Many  have         chewing  of  sealskin,  to  render  it  pliable  for  boots 


From  n 


TIIK   chief's    DAUCHTEK    PRESKNTS   MR.    'JF.   WI.NUT    WITH    A    I'KKI  I  V    i'.MU    uF    DIKHSKTN    r.OOTS.  \Kodnk  PhotO. 


PARIS  TO  NEW  YORK  OVERLAND. 


537 


/^ 


.JHI 


i'roin  <Zj 


THE  I  IKST  Sli.H  I'  ul    ui  I.: 


and  other  articles.  A  wife  here  is  selected, 
not  for  her  beauty,  but  for  her  physical 
strength,  and  there  seemed  to  be  no  restriction 
as  to  the  number  of  wives.  The  Tchuktchis 
appeared  to  have 
no  religion.  When 
a  man  died  he 
was  carried  some 
distance  from  the 
set  tlement  and 
devoured  by  the 
dogs,  although 
the  Reindeer 
Tchuktchis  of 
the  interior  are 
said  to  cremate 
their  dead.  The 
most  curious 
tiling  about  the 
coast  races  is  the 
difference  of  lan- 
guage in  villages 
sometimes  only 
ten  miles  apart. 
Even  at  AVhalen 
and  East  Cape 
th'-y  are  entirely 
different.  For  in- 
stance, a  duck  at 
VVhalen  is  called 
}^a//ia,  and  close 
by,  at  East  Cape, 
tii^umak,  and  so 
on. 

\'j1.  x.— 68. 


Xe.xt  to  irre- 
sponsible and 
armed  inebriates 
<Mir  greatest 
anxiety  during 
this  dreary  time 
was  caused  by 
the  medicine 
men,  of  whom 
there  are  about  a 
score  at  W'halen, 
and  who  never 
lost  an  oppor- 
tunity of  setting 
their  patients 
against  us.  Medi- 
cine men  are  all- 
powerful  amongst 
the  Tchuktchis, 
although  their 
notions  of  treat- 
ment are  abso- 
lutely unconnec- 
ted with  drugs  of 
any  kind  and 
consist  chiefly  of  pills  and  inoculations.  But 
their  unfortunate  dupes  have  a  firm  belief  in  these 
men  and  their  powers  of  healing.  The  latter  are 
not  only  medical  advisers,  but  are  consulted  on 


1 

■I 


nVE  WEARY  WEEKS  OF  WAlTINLi.         {Kodak  Photo. 


ujLcii  Willi  cuilizau^jn  once  moke— akrival  of  the  WHALEK 

From  a  Kodak  Photo. 


WILLIAM    IIAVLISS. 


538 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


everything  pertaining  to  the  affairs  of  life,  from 
marital  differences  to  a  bad  attack  of  measles. 

The  "Kamitok,"  or  killing  of  the  aged,  is 
practised  here  as  1  saw  it  at  Oumwaidjik  m 
1896.  When  a  man  gets  too  old  to  work  a 
family  council  is  held,  and  it  is  decided  to 
dispatch  him  to  another  world.  On  this 
occasion  whisky  is  imbibed  until  everybody  is 
more  or  less  intoxicated,  and  the  victim  is  then 
shot  or  strangled  with  a  walrus  thong.  This 
practice  is  probably  due  to  the  barren  nature  of 
this  desolate  land,  where  every  mouthful  of  food 
is  precious. 

Sometimes    we    went   seal-hunting    with     our 


trying,  with  absolutely  nothing  to  do  or  even 
think  about ;  almost  our  only  occupation  was  to 
sit  on  the  beach,  now  almost  denuded  of  snow, 
and  gaze  blankly  at  the  frozen  ocean,  which 
seemed  at  times  as  though  it  would  never 
break  up  and  admit  of  our  release  from  this 
dull,  unsavoury  village.  Day  by  day,  however, 
large  brown  patches  of  earth  peeped  through 
their  wintry  covering,  and  wild  flowers  even  began 
to  bloom  on  the  hillsides  ;  but  the  cruel  waste 
of  ice  still  appeared,  white  and  unbroken,  from 
beach  to  horizon.  One  day  someone  fashioned 
a  rude  set  of  chessmen  out  of  driftwood,  and 
this  afforded  some  mental  relief,  but  only  for  a 


!•  roin  a\ 


WW.    U.S.     HliVliNLl-;    LLIIEK 


llir.'llS,"  WHICH     looK    THK    I'AKl'V   ON    UoAKD.  |Ai'Wii/.    PiU'tO. 


friends,  hut  this  is  poor  sport,  especially  in 
damp,  chilly  weather,  'i'he  outfit  is  very  simple, 
consisting  of  a  rifle,  snow-shoes,  and  spear.  A 
start  is  made  at  daylight  until  a  likely-looking 
hole  in  the  ice  is  reached,  and  here  you  sit 
down  and  patiently  await,  perhaps  for  hours, 
until  a  seal's  head  appears  above  water.  In 
warm  weather  this  might  be  an  agreeable  occu- 
pation, but  on  cold  days  it  seldom  induced  us 
to  leave  even  the  comfortless  shelter  of  our 
filthy  hut. 

The  (lays  here  passed  away  with  terrible  slow- 
ness and  monotony.  On  the  Lena  we  had 
experienced  almost  perpetual  darkness— here  we 
had   eternal   daylight,    which    was    even    more 


few  days.  Carlyle's  "  French  Revolution  "  had 
been  read  into  tatters,  and  even  a  "  Whitaker's 
Almanack  "  failed  us  at  last— for  this  was  our 
sole  library.  Sometimes  we  visited  our  neigh- 
bours and  friends,  when  we  were  always  kindly 
received.  Presents  were  even  occasionally  made 
us.  On  one  occasion  the  chiefs  daughter  worked 
me  a  pretty  pair  of  deerskin  boots,  and  the 
operation  of  trying  them  on  is  shown  in  the 
illustration  on  page  536. 

So  five  weeks  crawled  away,  and  the  "grey 
hag  Despair"  was  beginning  to  show  her  ugly 
face  when  on  one  never-to-be-forgotten  morning 
Harding  rushed  in  with  the  joyful  news  that 
a  thin  strip  of  blue  was  visible  on   the  horizon. 


iwRis    lu   xi:w    \()kK   ()\  i:ki,AXi). 


539 


Three  days  after  wavelets  were  rippling  on  the 
beach.  'I'hcn  a  whaler,  the  William  Jhxyliss, 
of  San  IVancisco,  appeared,  and  we  greeted 
civilized  beings  once  more.  Provisions  were 
showered  on  us  by  kindly  Captain  Cottle,  but 
he  also  brought  whisky,  and  when  the  ship 
steamed  away  an  orgie  had  already  commenced 


pack-ice  off  Cape  Prince  of  Wales.  The  land, 
seven  miles  off,  was  unapproachable,  but  the 
Eskimos  ashore  launched  a  canoe  and  paddled 
and  carried  their  boat  over  the  floes  to  the  ship. 
There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  take  to  the  ice, 
which  was  slowly  drifting  to  the  southward.  It 
was  nasty  work  in  a  stiff  breeze.     'I'he  Thetis 


^n  \l  I.Wfc 


-  1h 


n 


FAKEWl-.LL   'iXi   ASIA 


-THE    •' THETIS "   LEAVING   WHALEN'    I-OK   THE   AMERICAN    COAST    WITH    Mlv.    DE  WINDT  S   PARTY. 

From  a  Kodak  Photo. 


which  lasted  two  days.  This  was  the  occasion 
upon  which  Stepan  ventured  out,  only  to  be 
instantly  pursued  and  fired  at. 

At  last,  when  we  had  been  at  Whalen  five 
weeks,  the  revenue  cutter  Thetis  appeared. 
Some  years  back  this  vessel  rescued  Greely 
from  Smith  Sound,  but  I  do  net  think  even  he 
was  more  relie\ed  tc  see  her  than  we  were.  I 
now  hoped  that  trouble  was  over ;  but  that 
evening   the    Thetis   was    bucking    into    heavy 


gave  us  three  cheers  and  hauled  away  to  the 
Arctic,  as  we  paddled  and  baled  our  tiny  craft 
away  through  a  heavy  sea.  Soon  we  landed  on 
jagged  ice,  to  slip  and  stumble  for  perhaps  a 
mile  and  then  launch  the  boat  again.  Once 
we  drifted  away  on  a  smaller  floe  and  had  to 
jump  for  it.  It  took  us  five  hours  to  land  on 
the  American  coast,  which  we  did  on  the 
morning  of  the  191J1  June,  si.x  months  to  a  day 
after  leaving  Paris. 


(^'lo  be  concludea.) 


A   pretty   little    story    from    the    Basque    country,    related    to    the    authoress    while    staying    at 

the   village   where   the   incidents   occurred.       The   young   couple    on   the    eve  of  marriage   were 

separated    by    an    unlooked-for    misfortune,    but    remained  true  to  one  another,  and  after  many 

weary  months  of  waiting  were  re-united  and   happily  married. 


TXASSOU  is  a  charming  spot  in  the 
Basciue  Pyrenee.s,  about  three  miles 
from  Cambo- les  -  Bains.  It  can 
hardly  be  called  a  village,  for  the 
houses  are  scattered  about  over  the 
hillsides.  The  inhabitants  thereof  are  a  sturdy 
race  of  mountaineers,  not  unlike  our  Scottish 
Highlanders.  Those  who  live  at  the  far  end  of 
the  parish  think  nothing  of  a  walk  over  the  hills 
for  ten  miles  or  so,  on  a  Sunday  morning,  in 
time  for  mass  at  the  parish  church  at  six  o'clock, 
after  which  the  men  will  spend  their  time 
at  the  country  inn,  where  there  is  a  good 
"  pelote  "  court,  playing  the  national  game,  until 
the  vesper  bell  rings,  when  they  all  file  into 
church.  In  the  summer,  when  the  days  are 
long,  "pelote"  is  again  in  requisition  after 
vespers ;  and  then  the  women  sit  around 
watching  the  game,  applauding  and  encouraging 
their  husbands,  brothers,  or  lovers. 

Being  so  near  the  Spanish  border  a  great  deal 
of  contraband  trade  is  carried  on,  but  it  very 
seldom  happens  that  the  smugglers  are  caught. 
Some  say  that  the  douauiers,  or  revenue  officers, 
are  not  very  anxious  to  stop  it,  as  they  come  in 
for  their  share  of  the  contraband  goods ;  but 
whether  that  is  so  or  not  I  cannot  say. 

There  are  about  thirty  men  in  the  barracks  at 


Itxassou,  but  this  does  not  prevent  things  of 
every  description  being  smuggled  over  the 
border  almost  daily.  The  people  talk  quite 
openly  of  their  contraband  goods.  When  we 
first  arrived  at  the  inn  at  Itxassou  I  asked  for 
some  coffee,  and  the  landlady  told  me  it  was 
smuggled.  She  seemed  quite  proud  of  it.  I 
used  often  to  visit  her  sister,  pretty  Marie 
Dargatz,  who  helped  her  aunt,  old  Jeanne 
Dargatz,  to  keep  the  village  shop,  where  many 
of  the  goods  displayed  came  from  over  the 
border,  but  had  never  seen  the  inside  of  the 
douane.  She  asked  us  one  day  to  go  with  her 
and  see  the  "  pelote  "  match,  which  took  place  at 
the  time  of  \^^Q.feie  and  was  at  the  Place. 

After  the  "  pelote  "  match  was  over  a  table  was 
brought  to  the  square  and  a  bench  placed  u{)on 
it,  then  three  musicians  took  their  seats  thereon 
and  dancing  commenced  on  the  green,  with 
much  throwing  of  confetti,  seemingly  a  great 
delight. 

The  Basque  girls  w^ere  all  nicely  dressed  in  well- 
fitting,  neat  dresses,  and  their  hair  was  done  most 
elaborately.  They  cover  the  coils  at  the  back 
of  the  head  with  a  black  silk  handkerchief 
pinned  round.  They  never  wear  any  head- 
covering  except  when  they  go  to  church,  when 
they  pin  a  lace  veil  over  their  hair. 


A    BASQUE    lUM.L. 


541 


One  day  when  I  was  talking  to  my  liiilc 
friend,  Marie  Dargatz,  in  Ikt  tiny  shop  she  told 
me  the  following  interesting  story  : — 

Dominica  lUchevcrry  was  a  pretty  girl,  the 
daughter  of  the  village  blacksmith  of  llxassoii. 
She  had  lovely  hair  with  a  golden  light  tinough 
it,  which  she  dressed  according  to  the  Bascpic 
style,  standing  high  above  the  forehead  and 
puffed  out  at  the  hack,  the  coils  in  the  centre 
being  covered  by  the  usual  black  silk  handker- 
chief pinned  neatly  round  them.  She  had 
large  brown  eyes  and  small,  well  -  shaped 
features,  and  was  considered  quite  the  prettiest 
girl  in  all  the  countryside. 

Hie  village /(Vt'  was  about  to  take  place,  and 
I  )on-iinica  had  prepared  herself  to  go  and  see  the 
"  pelote "  match,  in  which  her  fiance,  Salvat 
Etchegoya,  was  to  plaj-.  Her  dress,  which  was 
pink,  was  made  in  the  latest  fashion,  and  her 
slender  waist  was  encircled  by  a  broad  pink 
ribbon  fastened  by  a  silver  buckle  of  rare  work- 
manship. 

A  maiden  aunt,  her  father's  sister,  lived  with 
them  and  looked  after  the  household,  as  her 
mother  was  dead.  This  old  lady  did  not  care 
for  the  delights  of  the  fete  and  was  very  averse 
to  her  niece  attending  it,  but  after  a  good 
deal  of  coaxing  on  the  part  of  Dominica  she 
agreed  to  let  her  go  with  her  married  sister, 
Gabrielle  Goyaden. 

Gabrielle  lived  near  by,  and  her  husband, 
Jean  Baptiste,  was  to  be  the  partner  of  Salvat 
Etchegoya  in  the  great  "  pelote "  match  which 
was  to  take  place  that  day,  so  both  sisters  were 
interested  in  the  result  of  the  game,  and  it 
formed  the  topic  of  their  conversatioii  all  along 
the  road  on  their  way  to  the  Place,  where  it  was 
to  be  held.  The  match  was  against  Ascain,  a 
village  about  ten  kilometres  from  Itxassou. 

When  Dominica  and  Ciabrielle  reached  the 
Place  they  seated  themselves  on  one  of  the 
seats  at  the  side  of  the  court  and  soon  the 
match  began.  The  Ascain  men  did  their  best. 
They  were  good  players  and  thought  much  of 
in  their  own  village,  but  Salvat  was  much  their 
superior.  He  was  strong  and  athletic,  had  a 
keen  eye  and  a  long  reach,  and  scarcely  ever 
missed  a  ball,  while  Jean  Baptiste  Goyaden  was 
a  very  efficient  assistant. 

Dominica  watched  her  fiance  with  the  greatest 
interest,  her  bright  eyes  beaming  with  delight 
when  he  made  a  specially  good  hit,  and 
at  intervals  she  clapped  her  hands  and  stood 
up  with  a  heightened  colour  to  nod  her  approval 
to  him. 

At  last  the  game  was  won  and  Salvat  antl 
Jean  Baptiste  were  jjroclaimed  the  heroes  of 
the  day,  with  a  hundred  francs  to  divide  between 
them  as  prize  money. 


Dominica  then  gave  Salvat  his  jacket,  which 
she  had  been  holding  for  him  during  the  game. 
He  put  it  on,  and  came  and  sat  down  beside 
her  to  rest  and  talk. 

.Salvat  and  Dominica  had  known  one  another 
from  childhood.  ilis  father  was  the  village 
carpenter,  hers  the  blacksmith,  and  their  homes 
were  within  a  hundred  yards  of  each  other. 

He  was  four  years  her  senior,  and  from  their 
school  days  upwards  it  had  been  settled  between 
them  that  some  day  they  would  be  man  and 
wife. 

When  this  story  begins  Dominica  was  twenty 
and  Salvat  was  twenty  four.  He  was  tall  and 
straight,  with  well-cut  features,  a  good-natured 
face,  and  soft  brown  eyes  that  looked  tender 
and  true — at  least  to  IJominica.  He  did  not 
trouble  himself  much  about  the  girls  of  the 
\illage,  though  more  than  one  of  them  admired 
him  and  were  not  a  little  jealous  of  his  fiancee. 
Willingly  would  they  have  changed  places  with 
her,  but  he  took  no  heed  of  their  sighs,  nor  did 
he  notice  their  admiring  glances  ;  he  was  too 
much  wrapped  up  in  his  little  Dominica,  who 
was  very  dear  to  him. 

The  couple  sat  for  some  time  talking,  and 
then  (labrielle  Goyaden  came  up  and  told  her 
sister  that  it  was  time  to  go  home. 

Salvat  walked  with  them,  and  presently  he 
confided  to  them  that  he  was  "  going  out " 
that  night.  There  would  be  no  moon,  and  he 
had  ascertained  that  none  of  the  doiianiers  would 
be  in  the  direction  in  which  he  and  his  friends 
were  going.  The  doiianiers,  by  the  way,  sleep 
out  regularly  on  the  hills,  constantly  changing 
their  direction,  but  the  smugglers  alwavs  make 
a  point  of  knowing  where  they  are,  and  so  avoid 
them. 

On  this  occasion  there  were  six  young  horses 
to  be  got  across  the  border,  and  Salvat  had 
agreed  with  two  other  men  to  do  the  business 
for  the  owner.  They  were  to  be  well  paid  for 
their  trouble,  but  there  was  something  in  the 
danger  of  being  caught,  and  the  delight  of  elud- 
ing the  officers  of  the  law,  that  fascinated  the 
young  man,  and  it  was  more  for  the  love  of 
adventure  than  for  the  love  of  gain  that  he  imder- 
took  the  enterprise. 

Dominica  begged  of  Salvat  not  to  undertake 
this  business,  but  Salvat  said  he  had  pledged  his 
word  and  could  not  back  out.  He  must  carry 
through  what  he  had  undertaken,  he  said,  but  it 
should  be  the  last  time,  as  after  he  was  married 
he  would  not  "go  out  "  any  more.  It  was  then 
within  six  weeks  of  their  marriage,  and  Domin- 
ica's trousseau  had  been  preparing  for  some 
time.  Little  Dominica  had  perforce  to  be  content 
with  this  promise  and  hope  for  the  best,  trusting 
that  he  would  come  off  scot-free  as  hitherto. 


542 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


After  leaving  his  fiancee  at  her  door  Sah'at 
went  home  to  make  his  arrangements  for  the 
night.  Having  taken  his  supper  he  put  on  a 
pair  of  espadrilles  (the  noiseless  shoes  with  rope 
soles  which  all  the  Basque  people  wear),  took 
his  mahkila  (a  strong  stick  with  an  iron  point) 
m  his  hand  and  placed  his  beret,  or  round 
bonnet,  on  his  head,  then  walked  out  in  his 
shirt-sleeves,  as  is  the  Basque  fashion,  with  his 
jacket  thrown  over  his  left  shoulder. 

Soon  he  began  climbing  a  mountain  path, 
and  before  long  was 
joined  by  two  other 
stalwart  young  fel- 
lows. They  walked 
noiselessly  and- 
quickly  in  single  file 
until  they  reached 
the  place  where  they 
were  to  meet  the 
horses.  It  was  high 
up  on  the  mountain 
top,  among  heather 
and  brushwood,  on 
the  frontier-line  of 
the  two  countries. 
Here  the  trio  lay 
down  and  waited 
until  it  was  time  for 
the  men  from  the 
Spanish  side  to  arrive 
with  their  animals. 

It  was  a  dark  night, 
just  what  they  wanted 
for  this  work.  They 
conversed  in  whis- 
pers as  they  lay  side 
by  side  in  the 
heather,  but  they 
dared  not  smoke  for 
fear  of  the  doiiuniers. 
After  a  time  Salvat 
put  his  ear  to  the 
ground  and  said  he 
heard  the  animals  coming.  Almost  immediately 
afterwards  there  appeared  out  of  the  blackness  of 
the  night  three  men,  each  leading  two  horses. 

They  exchanged  a  few  whispered  words  with 
the  watchers,  but  soon  departed,  as  there  was  no 
time  to  lose.  Salvat  and  his  two  friends,  each 
taking  a  couple  of  horses,  started  on  their  home- 
ward journey. 

They  iiad  to  go  very  cautiously,  as  they  had 
some  most  difficult  ground  to  get  over,  and  the 
place  where  they  actually  climbed  down  into 
the  road  at  last  was  almost  perpendicular  and 
strewn  with  great  boulders,  so  that  it  seemed  a 
marvel  how  they  ever  got  the  animals  down 
without  breaking  their  legs.     The  horses  were 


^ftk         if^m 

i 

,^                   ^^^tt|«|[fc^-^J 

■  i 

DOMINICA 


From  a  Photo. 


unshod,  so  as  to  make  as  little  noise  as  possible 
and  give  them  a  surer  footliold. 

Having  reached  this  road,  which  runs  along- 
side the  River  Nive,  the  smugglers  i)auscd  and 
listened  before  proceeding  farther,  as  the  douane 
barracks  were  scarcely  a  mile  away.  Hearing 
nothing,  however,  they  got  into  the  fields  as 
soon  as  possible,  so  as  to  reach  the  ferry,  with 
the  intention  of  crossing  the  stream  and  getting 
to  Bayonne  before  it  was  light. 

So  far  they  had  met  nobody  and  seen  no  one. 

They  were  congratu- 
lating themselves  on 
their  success,  for 
once  they  got  across 
the  ferry  they  would 
each  mount  a  horse 
and  lead  the  other, 
and  so  trot  on 
quickly  to  Bayonne. 
It  was  now  two 
o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing and  very  dark, 
and  there  was  not  a 
sound  to  be  heard 
but  the  monotonous 
wash  of  the  river, 
not  a  soul  to  be 
seen.  Salvat  went 
forward  to  untie  the 
boat  while  the  other 
two  held  the  horses. 
Suddenly,  without 
the  slightest  warning, 
a  dozen  doiiatiiers 
jumiK'd  out  upon 
ihcm  from  the  bushes 
where  they  had  been 
concealed.  Two  of 
them  seized  Salvat 
from  behind  as  he 
was  stooping  over 
the  boat  and  pinned 
him  before  he  had 
time  to  defend  himself.  Then  one  of  the 
men  hit  a  douaiiicr  over  the  head  with  his 
maiikila  and  laid  him  prostrate ;  the  horses 
brc^ke  loose  and  began  plunging  about  in 
all  directions;  and  Salvat's  two  companions, 
taking  advantage  of  the  confusion,  got  away 
from  their  assailants,  jumped  into  the  river,  and 
swam  to  the  other  side.  It  was  too  dark  for 
the  doitaniers  to  have  identified  them,  and 
probably  none  of  them  felt  inclined  to  plunge 
into  the  dark  river  in  jjursuit.  Having  secured 
Salvat  they  were  satisfied  with  their  night's 
work,  though  one  of  their  number  had  been 
badly  hurt  by  the  blow  he  had  received. 

As  for  Salvat  himself  his  feelings  were  any- 


A    BASQUE    TDM.L. 


TWO   OF   THEM    SEIZED   SALVAT    FROM    IIEHIND    AS    HE    WAS   STOOI'ING   OVEK    THE    BOAT, 

thing  but  pleasant.  There  was  no  doubt  that 
they  had  been  betrayed  ;  someone  must  have 
warned  the  douaniers  that  they  were  to  cross 
the  ferry  that  night,  and  he  raged  inwardly  at 
the  idea,  particularly  when  he  thought  of  his 
little  Dominica  and  the  marriage  that  was  to 
take  place  in  six  weeks. 

When  he  had  been  seized  from  behind  his 
arms  had  been  pinioned,  otherwise  there  would 
have  been  little  chance  of  holding  him,  as  he 
was  strong  and  athletic. 

There  was  no  doubt  he  would  lie  taken  to 
prison  and  would  have  to  stand  his  trial,  but 
there  was  just  a  chance  that  he  might  get  off 
with  a  fine. 

After  the  men  had  secured  the  horses  they 
moved  off  to  the  barracks  for  the  rest  of  the 
night,  and  by  the  six  o'clock  train  next  morning 
he  was  taken  to  Bayonne  and  lodged  in  gaol. 
Long  before  that  hour  it  was  known  all  round 


543 

the  countryside  that 
Salvat  had  been  taken  on 
the  mountains.and  several 
of  his  Iriends  went  to  the 
station  to  .see  him,  his 
father  accompanying  him 
t(j  the  town.  Salvat  asked 
him  if  Dominica  knew 
what  had  befallen  him, 
but  the  old  man  did  not 
know,  as  he  had  not  seen 
her.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
she  did  not  hear  of  her 
fiance's  cajjture  until  after 
the  train  had  left  for 
P)ayonne. 

She  had  gone  to  the  six 
o'clock  mass,  and  as  she 
came  out  of  the  church 
her  sister  met  her  and  told 
her  what  had  happened. 
It  was  a  dreadful  blow 
to  the  poor  girl,  and  when 
she  heard  that  they  had 
taken  him  to  prison  she 
threw  herself  into  her 
sister's  arms  and  sobbed 
as  if  her  heart  would 
l)reak.  (iabrielle,  after 
trying  in  vain  to  soothe 
and  comfort  her,  led  her 
away  to  her  own  house, 
and  then  to  her  own 
room,  where  Dominica 
became  calmer. 

They    discussed    what 
could     be    done    to    free 
Salvat.     They  found  out 
by   going    to    the    house 
that  his  father  had  gone  with  him  to  Bayonne, 
so  they  hoped  to  hear  on  his  return  that  he  had 
been  able  l)y  paying  a  fine  to  obtain  his  release. 
After    the   arrival   of  the   last    train    the  two 
sisters  went   to   the  old   carpenter's  house,   but 
found    him  very    sad    and    dejected.      He    told 
them  that  Salvat  would  not  say  anything.      If  he 
would  have  told  the  name  of  his  employer  he 
would  have  L;ot  off  with  a  fine  ;  but   he  would 
not,    nor    would     he    give    the    names    of    his 
companions.      He    was   asked    which    of    them 
knocked   down  the  doiomitr,  but  he  said  he  did 
not  know,  as  he  was  busy  with  the  boat  and  it 
was  too  dark  to  see  what  occurred,  but,  at  any 
rate,  he  would  not  give  the  names  of  any  of  then), 
(labrielle  took  her  sister  to  Bayonne  the  next 
day,  and  they  tried  to  get  leave  to  see  Salvat  in 
his  prison,  but  they  were  not  allowed  to  do  so, 
and     Dominica    returned     home    sadder    than 
before. 


544 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


Before  long  the  trial  came  on,  and  Salvat  was 
condemned  to  a  year's  imprisonment.      If   he 
would   have    given    information    the    sentence 
would   have   been   more   lenient,   but  he   obsti- 
nately refused  to  do  so.     He  told  Jean  Baptiste 
Goyaden— who  obtained   leave   to  visit   him — 
that  he  would  not  tell  the   names  of  his  com- 
panions   because  one  of  them    was    a    married 
man  with  a  wife  and   little  children   to  support, 
and  if  he,  the  breadwinner,  were  locked  up,  what 
would   become  of  the  family  ? 
Jean  Baptiste  suggested  that 
he  had   Dominica  to  think  of, 
to  which   Salvat   replied,   with 
tears  in  his  eyes,  that  that  was 
his  greatest  trial— the  separa- 
tion from  her  and  the  long,  sad 
year  that  had  to  go  by  before 
their  marriage  could  take  place. 
As    he    said,    ordinary    years 
passed  swiftly  enough,  but  this 
one  would   have  feet  of  lead. 
He  told  Jean  Baptiste  to  tell 
his    sweetheart    to    be  patient 
and  not  to  fret,  as  he  felt  sure 
there  would  be  happiness  for 
them  in  the  future.     But  poor 
Dominica  could  not  help  fret- 
ting when  she  thought  of  her 
Salvat  and  all   he  must  suffer. 
She  lost  all   her  bright,  happy 
ways,  and  went  about  looking 
sad  and  grave.      She  worked 
hard  at  the  household  duties,  so 
that  even  the  old  aunt  had  no 
fault  to  find  with  her,  and  she 
never   cared    now  for   fun   or 
frolic,  and  would  scarcely  leave 
the    house   at   all   save    when 
Gabrielle  came  and   took  her 
out  so  that  she  should   have 
fresh    air   and  exercise.     She 
was  always  tliinking  of  Salvat  ;  of  the  pain  and 
misery  of  his  prison  life,  and  of  the  privations 
and    sufferings    he     must     endure.       But    she 
would    not    parade    her    grief       No    one    but 
CJabrielle  knew  how  nmch  she  suffered,  and  no 
one  but  her  sister  was  ever  witness  of  her  tears. 

When  Jean  Baptiste  first  obtained  leave  to 
see  Salvat  she  sent  a  tender  little  note  and 
received  a  few  loving  words  in  answer,  but  this 
only  happened  very  seldom.  The  little  pencilled 
notes  that  Jean  liaptiste  brought  her  were  read 
and  re-read  many  times,  and  with  many  tears  and 
sighs,  but  though  the  words  were  full  of  comfort 
the  pain  of  separation  stx-med  all  the  harder  to  l)ear 
when  she  read  the  expressionsof  Salvat'sdevotion. 

But  the  year  went  by  at  last,  as  even  the 
longest  and  dreariest  will,  and  the  period  was 


drawing  near  when  Salvat  would  complete  his 
sentence  and  be  able  to  return  home  again. 
Dominica  grew  very  restless  and  could  not 
settle  to  her  work.  She  wondered  if  he  would 
be  changed  ;  if  the  long  year  of  privation  would 
have  undermined  his  health.  During  the  last 
few  days  she  was  in  a  sort  of  fever  and  could 
neither  eat,  drink,  nor  sleep. 

But  at  last  Salvat  arrived  and  went  straight 
to  the  house  of  his  \inlc /a nar.     What  a  joyous 


THE    LITTLE    I'ENCILLED    NOTES   THAT   JEAN    liAI'TISTE    BROUGHT    HER   WERE    READ    AND 

RE-READ    MANY   TIMES." 


meeting 


it  was !  Salvat's  health  had  suffered 
a  good  deal,  he  was  very  pale  and  thin,  and  so 
changed  in  appearance  that  some  people  scarcely 
knew  liim. 

'Hie  marriage  soon  took  place,  and  Itxassou 
rose  nobly  to  the  festive  occasion,  for  Salvat 
was  very  |)0])ular  and  everyone  was  so  sorry 
for  his  misfortune.  No  one  thought  of  blaming 
him  for  his  share  in  the  smuggling,  but  everyone 
praised  him  for  his  loyalty  towards  his  comrades, 
and  thought  what  a  hero  he  was  for  suffering  as 
he  had  done  because  he  would  not  divulge  their 
names.  And  so  the  wedding  ceremonies  passed 
off  merrily,  and  Salvat  and  Dominica  took  up 
their  abode  at  their  country  home  at  the  foot 
of  the  great  mountains,  where  they  are  living 
happily  to-day. 


^fusf^ 


There  was  recently  held  at  Denver,  Colorado,  a  "  World's  Championship  Broncho- 
Busting  Contest,"  to  decide  who  was  the  best  "  broncho-buster  "  in  the  States.  Valuable 
money  prizes  and  a  champion  belt  were  offered,  and  some  magnificent  horsemanship 
was  displayed  by  the  competing  cowboys,  the  coveted  honour  being  finally  awarded  to 
an  ex-cowboy  attached  to  "  Buffalo  Bill's  "  Wild  West  Show. 


X  the  middle  Western  States  of 
An)erica  there  are  immense  open 
ranges  as  well  as  large  private 
ranches— many  of  which  consist  of 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  acres  — 
devoted  to  horse,  cattle,  and  sheep  raising,  and 
quite  a  small  army  of  cowbo)s  are  required  to 
herd  and  care  for  the  stock.  It  naturally  follows 
that  thousands  of  horses  are  needed  for  their 
use.  It  is  upon  the  cowboys  that  the  task  falls 
of  breaki.ig  to  the  saddle,  or  "busting,"  the 
almost  untractable  "  bronchos  "  that  are  raised 
both  for  this  purpose  and  f(jr  the  o])en  market. 

Naturally,  on  a  large  ranch  which  employs 
many  cowboys,  there  is  much  rivalry  among 
them  as  to  who  is  the  best  rider,  or  "  buster," 
so  that  when  a  horse  is  found  that  has  thrown 
everyone  who  has  attempted  to  ride  it,  and 
])0ssibly  killed  a  man  or  so,  it  only  makes  the 
"  boys  "  all  the  more  determined  to  finally  con- 
quer the  beast. 

l''rom  this  local  ri\alry  among  the  cowboys  of 
the  large  ranches  of  Idaho,  Wyoming,  Texas, 
and  Colorado  sprang  the  several  State  contests 
at  which,  besides  the  many  handsome  j)rizes 
which  were  given,  a  "  State  champio.i  "  was 
declared.      Prior   to    1901,  therefore,  tiiere  were 


many  so-called  "  champions,"  which  naturally 
caused  considerable  discussion  as  to  who  was 
really  the  best  man  among  them. 

Almost  every  year  since  1S96  there  has  been 
held  at  Denver,  Colorado,  a  great  State  fair, 
called  the  "  Festival  of  Mountain  and  Plain," 
and  the  directors  of  the  fair,  looking  around  in 
1 90 1  for  a  good  special  feature  for  the  year's 
"  festival,"  saw  the  possibilities  of  this  cowboy 
rivalry  as  a  great  attraction,  and  decided  to  hold 
a  "  world's  championship  "  contest,  giving,  in 
addition  to  the  several  cash  prizes,  a  suitable 
"world's  championship"  belt  to  the  victor,  to 
become  his  absolute  property  if  won  three  times 
in  succession.  'I'o  properly  govern  the  contest 
a  strict  set  of  rules  was  drawn  up,  so  as  to 
eliminate  all  but  the  very  best  riders. 

Tile  championship  belt  is  a  handsomely 
engraved  and  embossed  aflair,  composed  of 
eight  s(|uare  silver  plaques  linked  together. 
'I'hree  of  these  pkKjues  are  j)Iain,  and  are 
reserved  for  the  names  of  the  different  winners. 
Three  other  plaques  repre.sent  a  bufialo  head 
with  rubies  for  eyes,  an  Indian  head,  and 
a  rider  on  a  bucking  broncho.  The  belt  is 
beautifully  designed  throughout,  and  represents 
a  cash  value  of  five  hundred  dollars. 


Vol. 


69. 


54^J 


THE    WIDE    WORLD     MAGAZINE. 


From  a\ 


A    GENERAL    VIEW   OF    THE   GROUND    WHERE    THE    CONTEST    TOOK    PLACE. 


U'hoto. 


Invitations  were  publi.shed  in  the  papers, 
giving  the  date  of  the  contest  and  the  rules 
governing  the  same,  and  asking  all  those  who 
wished  to  enter  to  send  in  their  names.  The 
whole  Western  country  was  scoured  over  for  the 


wildest  and  most  vicious  "  outlaw  "  bronchos 
that  could  be  found.  The  more  sinister  their 
reputation  the  more  they  were  desired,  the  aim 
being  to  get  the  worst  possible  horse  and  the 
very  best  rider,  expense  not  being  considered. 


MAiniS    T.    SOWKKU,    WHO    WON     IHE    C II  AM  I'lONSH  11'    IN      lyol     AND    1902— HE    Ih    NOW    Willi    "lUFFAl.C) 
/•lOIII  a]  BILU'b  "    WILD    WEST   SHOW.  \PhotO. 


A     "  liR(h\L.llUl]USl'l.N(i       CC;.N1LM. 


547 


An  immense  circular  grand  stand  was  built  to 
accommodate  upwards  of  twelve  thousand  spec- 
tators, with  boxes  in  ivonl  and  tiers  of  seats 
behind.  Severed  feet  ahead  of  the  front  row 
of  boxes  heavy  j)osts  were  set  in  the  ground, 
on  which  very  str(jng  fencing  wire  was  stretched, 
to  prevent  the  horses  bolting  into  the  crowd. 

This  being  the  first  real  championship  contest 
there  was  an  immense  crowd  present  — a  good 
idea  of  which  will  be  obtained  from  the  photos. 
—  to  witness  the  struggle.  Thousands  of  tiie 
spectators  had  come  from  surrounding  towns, 
every  one  of  the  many  competitors  bringing  a 
small  crowd  of  enthusiastic  supporters  with 
him.       I'Lverything   went    smoothly,   but,   owing 


ment  with  his  \\'ild  West  Show,  louring  Europe, 
during  whicii  time  he  would  proclaim  him 
champion,  and  that  there  were  also  cash  prizes 
of  several  hundreds  of  dollars,  it  was  seen  at 
once  that,  beside  the  belt,  there  was  something 
well  worth  fighting  for,  and  naturally  the 
interest  in  the  competition  was  widespread. 

After  his  victory  of  1901  Champion  Sowder 
had  obtained  an  engagement  with  "  Huffalo 
lUll's  "  Wild  West  Sliow,  and  two  days  before 
the  contest  he  arrived  at  Denver  to  defend  his 
title.  Among  the  fifty  or  sixty  other  competitors 
lor  first  [)lace  were  T.  F.  Minor,  chamjjion  of 
Idaho  ;  Harry  Brennan,  of  Wyoming,  who  had 
won  a   five  hundred  dollar    belt   given   at    the 


/''rflii!  a  ] 


A   BKONXHO    DOING    THE        CKOW-HOI 


[Photo. 


to  the  great  number  of  entries  and  the  splendid 
riding  of  the  cowboys,  two  days  were  necessary 
to  reach  a  decision,  when  the  judges— all  well- 
known  horsemen  themselves  —  decided  that 
Martin  '1".  iSowder,  of  Wyoming— whose  photo- 
graph is  given  on  the  previous  page — had  done 
the  best,  and  he  was  accordingly  given  the  belt 
and  declared  to  be  the  "  champion  broncho- 
buster  "  of  the  world. 

On  October  7th,  8th,  9th,  and  loth,  1902, 
the  second  annual  contest  was  held,  ami  on 
account  of  the  fact  that  the  contest  of  1901  had 
proven  a  strictly  genuine  one,  and  that  Colonel 
W.  F.  Cody  ("  Buffalo  Bill ")  offered  to  the 
victor  of  the  present  contest  a  two  years'  engage- 


recent  horse  show;  jack  M'Cuire,  of  Colorado  ; 
and  Frank  Stone,  of  Wyoming. 

Of  all  tiiese  competitors  only  some  twenty-five 
or  so  qualified  lor  the  actual  contest,  but  they 
represented  the  very  best  riders  in  the  country. 
Unless  one  is  aware  of  the  technique  of  the 
contest  he  is  not  apt  to  understand  the  finer 
l)oints  of  the  riders.  There  are  three  general 
movements  of  the  tyf)ical  broncho  that  must 
be  understood  to  properly  apiireciatc  the  sport. 

All  bronchos  are  different  individually,  but 
the  ways  they  try  to  throw  their  riders  may  be 
classed  under  three  heads.  The  first  is  known 
as  the  "  crowhop."  The  rider  gets  on  a  wild 
horse  and  immediatelv  the  steed  bunches  itself 


548 


THE     WIDK     WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


up  like  a  goat,  holds  itself  stiff  in  limb  and 
body,  and  bucks  promiscuously.  It  jars  the 
rider,  but  the  horse  that  only  does  this  is  con- 
sidered easy  and  tame.  While  it  lasts,  however, 
the  "crow -hop"  is  very  interesting  to  the 
spectators. 

Another  movement  is  known  as  the  "  sun- 
fish."  This  is  where  the  horse  bucks,  and  while 
doing  so  tilts  to  one  side  and  then  the  other 
in  Its  endeavour  to  unseat  the  rider.  There  is 
also  a  forward  and  backward  movement  not 
unlike  the  "sun -fish,"  but  even  this  is  in- 
effective with  the  best  riders,  although  much 
feared  until  finally  mastered. 

This  movement  unseated  many  a  rider  during 


seriously  hurt.  In  this  movement,  as  soon  as 
the  rider  is  mounted  the  animal  bucks  and 
"  cavorts  "  for  a  while,  and  then  blindly  makes 
for  a  fence  or  post,  or  any  other  obstruction.  The 
rider  must  be  ever  on  the  alert,  and  if  he  fails 
to  guess  the  way  the  horse  will  turn  he  is  liable 
to  have  a  nasty  tumble  or  even  be  killed.  This 
is  one  of  the  most  difficult  points  in  riding 
(particularly  so  as  one  of  the  rules  of  the 
contest  disqualifies  the  rider  who  holds  to  the 
saddle  to  keep  from  falling),  and  is  the  cause  of 
more  fatalities  while  "  busting  "  than  any  other. 
It  was  while  riding  a  horse  of  this  kind  that 
one  of  the  best  riders  in  the  contest  had  his  leg 
broken.     His  horse  bolted  for  the  fence,  striking 


i''rom  a] 


A    COMPETITOK   GEIS   A    liAU    FALL. 


[Fhoto. 


the  recent  contest,  however,  and  it  was  a  broncho 
named  "  E.  A."  (who  used  a  combination  of 
"sun-fish"  and  "twister")  that  proved  the 
hardest  to  ride,  and,  according  to  some  eye- 
witnesses, comj)elled  even  the  champion  to  catch 
hold  of  his  saddle-liorn  to  save  himself  from 
filling,  or,  as  the  cowboys  .say,  made  him  "  hunt 
Icalher."  This,  however,  was  not  proved  against 
him—  luckily  for  him. 

Besides  the  many  snaky,  jerky,  corkscrew 
actions  of  the  hill  fledged  bruncho,  the  other 
general  movement  is  known  as  the  "  stamjjede," 
and  unless  the  rider  is  a  quick  thinker  and  can 
jump  at  the  right   time  he  is  very  likely  to  get 


it  with  such  force  that  the  rider  was  thrown  out 
of  the  saddle,  his  horse  falling  backwards  on 
him,  breaking  his  left  leg.  Owing  to  the  excel- 
lent riding  of  the  "  boys,"  however,  this  was  the 
only  really  serious  accident,  although  several 
men  took  very  bad  falls. 

Another  very  difficult  broncho  to  ride  is 
one  that,  failing  to  unseat  its  rider  by  any  other 
means,  rears  ui)  on  its  hind  legs  and  pitches 
over  backwards.  It  is  the  "  pitching  "  broncho 
that  the  competitor  must  walch  very  closely. 

The  rider  is  allowed  a  helper  to  saddle  the 
horse,  but  once  sealed  he  must  allow  his 
mount  full  control  of  his  head  and  not  hold  to 


A    "URUNc  Uu    l;l>llNCi       (  (iN'IM:sr. 


54'; 


his  saddle  to  prevent  leaving  it  (which  would 
disqualify  him)  ;  a  clean  throw  is  also  fatal  to 
his  chances.  It  will,  therefore,  be  seen  that  to 
ride  some  of  the  vicious  brutes  provided  is  no 
light  task,  and  it  may  truly  he  said  that  in  many 
cases  tlie  "  buster  "  takes  his  life  in  his  hands 
when  he  mounts  some  of  the  worst  bronchos. 
This  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  when  it  is 
remembered  that 
the  rider  has  no 
previous  know- 
ledge of  the  char- 
acteristics of  the 
animal  he  may  be 
called  upon  to 
ride. 

Three  days  was 
all  that  the  con- 
test was  billed 
for,  but  owing  to 
the  close  riding 
of  some  of  the 
contestants  a 
fourth  day  was 
neces.sary  to  make 
a  final  choice,  and 
it  was  on  this  day 
that  some  of  the 
most  reckless,  yet 
splendid,  riding 
was  exhibited,  par- 
ticularly by  }]ren- 
nan  (the  horse 
show  champion). 
The  form  shown 
was  so  good  that 
really  all  the  differ- 
ence between  the 
champion  antl 
Tom  Minor  was 
the  fact  that,  al- 
though every  bit 
as  good  a  rider. 
Minor  endeavour- 
ed, according  to 
the  judges,  to 
check  to  a  small 
extent  the  freedom 
of  the  head  of  the 
last  horse  that  he 
rode. 

The  spectators,  too,  were  considerably  divided 
in  opinion,  and  cries  of  "  Brennan/'  "Sowder,"' 
and  "  Minor  "  showed  the  divergence  of  views. 
After  considerable  debate,  however,  the  belt  and 


cash  were  distributed  as  follows  ;  M.  'I".  .Sowder 
to  retain  the  championship  belt  and  receive 
5oodols.  ;  T.  F.  .Minor,  Idaho,  25odols.  ;  l-'rank 
Stone,  Wyoming,  ly^dols.  ;  Harry  Brennan, 
Wyoming,  75dols.  ;  .Sl'duire,  .Schley,  Colorado, 
5odols.  ;  and  Denison,  of  Colorado,  25dols.  This 
in  the  opinion  of  the  judges  was  the  best  way 
out  of  a  very  difficult    problem. 

The  small 
amount  of  the 
secondary  prizes 
made  the  fighting 
for  first  place  very 
spirited,  and  as 
several  people 
claimed  that  .Sow- 
der, during  his  last 
ride  on  the  vicious 
"E. A.,"  had  "pul- 
led leather,"  there 
was  considerable 
f  e  e  1  i  n  g  among 
some  of  the  com- 
petitors as  to  the 
way  in  which  the 
prizes  were 
awarded. 

Brennan  and 
Minor  each  chal- 
lenged Champion 
Sowder  for  a  ten 
thousand  dollar 
purse,  five  thou- 
sand dollars  a  side. 
This,  of  course, 
was  useles.s,  as  the 
very  best  men  pro- 
curable were  selec- 
ted as  judges,  and 
their  decision 
must  be  abided 
by  for  at  least  one 
year. 

The  contest  was 
a  sight  well  worth 
witnessing,  for 
with  the  increase 
of  population  in 
the  Far  West  the 
day  is  surely 
coming  when 
the  picturesque  American  cowboy  and  his 
superb  horsemanship,  like  the  fast  disappearing 
Indian  and  bulTalo,  will  eventually  become  a 
thing  of  the  past. 


PIICMINi;        DKONCIIO — HE    KKAHS    LI"   ON    HIS    H I N  U    l.liOS    ANU 
ENUEAVOUKS   lO    FALL    BACKWARDS   O.N    MIS    KlUEK. 

Ftoiii  a  Photo. 


'  "'f^MP  5fain 

By  Bart  Kennedy 


\\^ 


U)\V  the   row 

started    I 

haven't    the 

faintest  idea. 

We  were  all 
together  in  a  wine-shop 
in  the  Calle  de  los  Reyes 
Catolicos  —  a  street  in 
Granada.  It  was  after  ,, 
twelve  o'clock  at  night, 
and  Rafael  was  impart- 
ing some  interesting  in- 
formation to  me  at  the 
top  of  his  voice.  What 
the  information  was 
about  I  don't  know. 
Hut  I  v/as  listening  with 
the  gravest  attention  and 
n  odding  acciuiescence 
wlienever     I     felt     the 

right    instant    had   arrived.     One    learns  to    be 
polite  in  Spain. 

All  seemed  to  be  going  well,  when  suddenly 
I  noticed  Rafael's  eye  wandering.  He  stopped 
talking  and  turned  (juickly  round  to  a  .Spaniard, 
wlio  was  not  of  our  party.  They  glared  at  each 
other,  and  then  Rafael  made  a  plunge  forward 
and  caught  the  man  by  the  throat. 

And  that  is  all  I  know  about  the  row.  It 
may  have  been  an  old  feud,  or  it  may  have  been 
that  the  man  attacked  had  made  some  impolite 
remark  bearing  upon  the  information  that  Rafael 
was  imparting  with  so  much  vigour  to  myself,  or 
it  may  have  been  anything.  Whatever  it  was 
remains  as  much  a  mystery  to  me  as  what 
Rafael  was  talking  about.  All  that  I  know  is 
that  the  next  instant  I  Umnd  myself  at  one  end 
of  the  wine-sho[)  with  Rafael,  Castro,  Joaquin, 
and  somebody  else.  In  front  of  us  was  the  man 
who  had  been  attacked,  and  his  friends. 

I  hate  bar-room  rows.  Being  in  one  is  more 
dangerous  than  being  in  a  firing  line.  Men  are 
apt  to  be  killed  before  they  know  where  they 
are.     Men  advancing  on  a  position  have  some 

Copyright,  1903,  by 


V. — How  I   Was  Sent  to  Gaol. 

Our  commissioner  here  describes  how 
he  became  involved  in  a  disturbance 
by  night  in  the  streets  of  Granada — 
which  he  brought  to  an  abrupt  con- 
clusion by  the  use  of  his  revolver.  For 
this  he  was  arrested  by  the  Spanish 
police  and  lodged  in  gaol.  His  sub- 
sequent experiences,  and  the  sidelights 
he  affords  of  Spanish  methods  of 
justice,  will  be  found  paiticularly 
interesting. 

chance  for  their  skins,  but  this  hand- 
to-hand  business  is  always  ugly. 

I  got  between  the  two  parlies  and 
tried  to  explain.  But  as  I  knew, 
[jiactically,  no  Spanish,  my  explaining 
l)0wers  were  handicapped. 

"  Malo,  Ingles  ! "  shouted  a  man  to 
me — the  man  who  had  been  attacked 
by  Rafael.  I  may  as  well  say  that 
when  the  first  hostile  move  had  been 
made  I  had  turned  quickly  round  and 
slipped  my  revolver  from  my  breast-pocket 
down  to  my  right-hand  jacket-pocket.  Thus, 
whilst  I  was  talking  peace  I  had  mv  finger  full 
on  the  trigger  of  my  revolver,  and  was  pointing 
it  through  the  cloth  of  my  coat  in  the  direction 
of  the  man  who  had  shouted  "Malo!"  It  is 
always  well  for  the  i)eacemaker  to  be  fully 
armed  and  prei)ared.  If  he  is  not,  he  is  more  than 
apt  to  get  hurt.      Peacemakers  are  unpopular. 

During  all  this  the  din  on  both  sides  was 
deafening.  I  thought  Rafael  would  burst. 
He  shouted  and  gesticulated  so  furiously.  I 
had  to  get  on  one  side  so  as  to  dodge  the  sweep 
of  his  arm.  Intleed,  it  was  a  bit  hard  to  keep 
one's  head  through  it  all.  I  had  no  idea  that 
Spaniards  could  work  so  hard.  They  shook  their 
fists  in  each  ollier's  faces,  and  waved  their  arms 
and  hands,  and  roared  out  maledictions,  and 
made  all  sorts  of  excited,  compound  gestures. 

It  was  then  that  I  got  with  my  back  to  the 
wall  and  began  to  study  the  scene.  And  one 
of  the  quick  conclusions  I  came  to  was  that  the 
Spaniards  were  a  (People  possessed  to  the  full  of 
concealed  energy. 

George  Newnes,   Limited. 


A      IKAMl'     IN     sr.MN. 


£51 


THE    REVOLVER    MADE    A    RF.PORT    I  1 K  !■;    A    CANNON." 

The  only  calm  person  in  ihe  wine  shop  was 
the  stout  old  senora  who  kept  it.  Siie  sat 
behind  the  counter,  close  to  a  big  black  wine- 
skin. Her  face  wore  an  expression  of  peace 
and  rest.      I  suppose  she  had  seen  rows  before. 

And  now  the  gallant  Rafael  rushed  to  the 
door  of  the  wine-shop,  flung  it  wide  open, 
waved  his  arms  over  his  head,  and  ran  out. 
His  back  was  to  us  as  he  waved  his  arms  above 
his  head,  and  the  figure  he  cut  gave  to  the 
scene  a  needed  touch  of  comedy. 

Everybody  ran  out  after  him.  And  I  ran 
out,  too.  And  then  I  gathered  Rafael's  mean- 
ing. He  meant  that  tiiey  should  go  out  into 
the  street  and  fight  it  out.  To  tell  the  truth  I 
was  rather  glad  of  this,  for  I    was  curious  to  see 


how  the  Spaniards  conducted 
a  fight.  As  yet  no  blows  had 
been  struck,  and  I  was  begin- 
ning to  think  that  they  did 
not  mean  business. 

In  the  street  there  \va>,  a 
sort  of  a  pau.se  and  then  some- 
body whipped  out  a  knife  and 
flung  it— I  think,  at  Rafael. 
But  it  nearly  hit  me.  It  fell 
clattering  on  the  stones  behind 
me,  after  whizzing  past  my 
shoulder. 

This  was  too  interesting, 
and  I  jerked  the  revolver  from 
my  jacket -pocket  and  fired 
just  in  front  of  a  man  who  was 
coming  towards  me.  Being 
knifed  in  an  affair  that  wasn't 
my  affair  didn't  at  all  strike 
my  fancy. 

The  revolver  made  a  report 
like  a  cannon,  and  had  the 
effect  I  knew  it  would  have. 
Everybody  scattered,  leaving 
me  the  street  all  to  myself.  A 
revoher  in  the -darkness  is  a 
([uantity  very  much  unknown. 
I  had  aimed  the  shot  down 
just  in  front  of  the  man's  feet. 
I  had  no  intention  of  hitting 
him.  What  I  wanted  was  peace. 
When  the  knife  was  flung  I 
had  at  once  seen  that  if  the 
row  were  not  stopped  some- 
one would  be  killed — perhaps 
myself.  And  I  had  stO[)[)ed  it  in  the  only 
way  I  could  stop  it  — by  putting  the  fear  of 
death  into  them  all.  Had  I  threatened  with 
the  revolver  it  would  have  been  fatal.  The 
only  way  was  to  make  them  feel  that  business 
was  meant— to  let  the  actual  music  come  sud- 
denly on  their  ears. 

Peace  now  reigned  in  the  Calle  de  los  Reyes 
Catblicos. 

All  were  gone  :  Rafael,  Castrc^  Joacjuin,  the 
ally  whose  name  I  didn't  know,  and  their 
opponents.  Both  friend  and  foe  had  come  lo 
the  conclusion  that  my  room  was  lutler  than 
my  company. 

I    ])iit   my  revolver  bacic    uuu    ni)  j  <_ 
turned  lo  walk  away.     At   almoNt   the   :  ,» 

my  foot  struck  against  the  knife  that  had  been 
flung.  I  picked  it  u\)  and  looked  at  it.  It  was 
an  ugly-looking  affair,  and  woul<l  '''^'  il.,n.  f,  .r 
any  man  it  struck  fairly. 

Hardly  had  I  gone  fifty  yards  when  1  saw  the 
flashing  of  lanterns  in  front  of  me,  and  in 
another   moment    I    was   surrounded    by   half  a- 


552 


THE    WJDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


dozen  sere fios  —night  policemen.  One  of  them 
put  the  point  of  his  lance  right  against  my 
breast,  another  held  his  revolver  to  my  head, 
whilst  the  others  held  their  swords  ready  to  cut 
me  down. 

I  was  arrested. 

There  was  not  the  least  use  of  my  showing 
fight  in  this  case.  For  one  thing  the  odds  were 
too  many,  and  for  another  I  had  no  ambition  to 
clash  with  the  might  of  the  Spanish  law— when 
it  was  really  aroused.  I  had  five  shots  in  my 
revolver,  and  my  finger  was  on  the  trigger.  But 
this  time  I  could  run  no  bluff.  I  would  have 
had  either  to  kill  or  wound  someone  —and  a 
hundred  to  one  be  killed  in  the  end  myself 

I  laughed  and  stretched  out  my  hands  — 
empty — towards  the  serenos,  and  the  one  who 
held  the  point  of  the  lance  against  me  lowered 
it  and  came  up  close  to  me.  He  searched  me 
quickly  and  found  the  revolver.  'J'he  finding 
of  it  apparently  satisfied    them,  for  the  sereiio 


had  found  tlie  revolver  upon  me  was,  so  to 
speak,  deputized  to  relate  what  had  occurred. 

He  told  the  story  in  a  most  graphic  and 
tragic  manner.  One  would  have  thought  that  I 
was  just  after  killing  a  dozen  men.  He  would 
point  to  me  every  now  and  then  in  a  most 
unpressive  and  dramatic  way. 

He  began  by  describing  the  hearing  of  the 
shot.  He  imitated  the  sound,  thus  giving  me  a 
clue  to  his  narrative.  And  he  went  on  telling 
the  whole  affair— half  in  pantomime,  half  in 
words.  When  he  got  to  the  [lart  where  he  was 
describing  his  searching  of  me  I  could  have 
laughed,  but  for  the  fact  that  it  seemed  to  me  to 
be  a  time  for  gravity,  just  as  he  finished  his 
yarn  he  took  my  revolver  out  of  his  pocket  and 
laid  it  on  the  table  with  impressiveness.  The 
sergeant  picked  it  up  and  tried  to  unlock  the 
cylinder,  but  he  did  not  quite  understand  the 
mechanism  of  it  and  he  handed  it  to  the  sereno, 
who  also  tried  to  unlock  it.     He,   too,  failed. 


who   w^is    holding    his    revolver    in  a   line  with         And   then   I    made    a 


sign    that   it   should 


A    I'li'l  1  .  jGK.-MII    i.)I-      I  he    K.Ml'E,    OVIOK     lliN     INCHES    l.N     LE.NGTll,    WHICH    WAS     IHKOWN     AT    M  K.     V.iXK'V    KENNEUV 


iny  head  dropped  his  hand  and  i)ut  the  weapon 
away  into  his  belt.  He  then  took  my  arm,  and 
I  was  escorted  up  a  street  which  lay  off  to  the 
left  from  the  Reyes  Catolicos.  They  talked 
excitedly  during  the  whole  time,  but  I  said  not 
a  word. 

^\'e  had  n(jt  gone  very  far  before  Joaquin  and 
( ia.^lro  appeared  on  the  scene.  They  had  not 
(le.scrted  me  after  all.  The  serenos  stopped  as 
t!iey  began  t(j  talk  volubly  ccjncerning  me.  In 
Spain  everybody  is  polite  everybody  listens  to 
tvcrvbody  else. 

\\  hat  my  friends  said  I,  of  course,  don't  know, 
faitiier  than  that  it  was  something  to  the  effect 
that  I  was  a  person  of  a  most  respectaiile  and 
peaceful  calibre.  This  I  could  tell  by  the  way 
the  serenos  shook  their  heads. 

The  parley  ended  by  our  all  going  together  to 
the  police-station. 

At  the  jjolice-station  the  serenos  all  began  to 
talk     together,   but     in  the  end   the   sereno  who 


handed  to  me.  Without  any  hesitation  the 
sereno  handed  it  over,  and  I  pressed  down  on 
the  thumb-piece,  unlocked  the  cylinder,  and 
ejected  the  cartridges  out  on  to  the  table.  This 
seemed  to  relieve  the  tension  of  the  situation. 
The  sergeant  picked  up  the  five  cartridges  and 
the  em[)ty  shell  and  looked  at  them  with  care. 
And  then  everybody  look(;d  at  them  in  turn. 
They  were  even  politely  offered  lo  me  for  my 
ins[)ection.  In  the  end  they  were  put  into  an 
envelope  and  laid  beside  the  revolver. 

1  must  confess  that  I  was  treated  with  the 
utmost  politeness.  I  might  have  been  some 
high  foreign  official  whc  had  dropped  in  to  see 
them.  The  police-sergeant  gave  me  a  cigarette, 
and  listened  with  deference  to  Joatjuin  and 
Castro  as  they  again  set  forth  glowingly  my 
virtues  and  general  peacefulness  of  character. 
In  fact,  everybody  was  polite,  from  the  sergeant 
to  the  serenos.  And  in  a  grave  sort  of  a  way 
they  seemed  pleased  to  have  met  me.     I  suppose 


A      IRAMr     LN     Sl'AJX. 


55' 


they  were   grateful    to    me    for    giving    them 
something  to  do. 

Indeed,  so  poHte  was  tlie  sergeant  that  at 
one  stage  of  the  game  I  thought  I  was  going 
to  be  let  off.  It  was  when  I 
produced  my  license  for  the 
use  of  arms.  He  bowed  most 
profoundly  as  I  handed  it  to 
liini. 

IJul  ill  the  end  1  began  to 
grasp  the  fact  that  I  would 
have  to  go  to  gaol.  Joaquin 
and  Castio  protested,  but  it 
was  of  no  use.  The  sergeant 
a[jologized  in  a  most  profuse 
manner.  He  was  respectful 
and  sympathetic.  But,  never- 
theless, to  gaol  I  had  to  go. 
With  many  "  buenas  noches  " 
(good  nights)  and  bowings 
and  handshakings  I  was  es- 
corted out  of  the  police-station 
by  the  sefenos.  Castro  and 
Joaquin  accompanied  us. 

The  gaol  was  in  the  Calle 
Molinos,  about  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  away.     Here  again  I  en- 
countered extreme  politeness. 
The  night  director  deferenti- 
ally took   my   name  and  age 
and  height,  and  the  colour  of 
my  hair  and  eyes,  and  what  I 
was  charged  with,  and  every- 
thing else  he  could  gather  in 
connection    with    myself,    my 
past,  and  my  present.    He  sat 
at   a   rickety   table  —  a   pale- 
faced,  delicate-looking   young 
Spaniard- -and  entered  these 
interesting  and  exciting  details 
into  a  book  of  moderate  size. 
His   method   of  gleaning   the 
information  was  first  to  ask  me 
a  r|uestion.   I  would  not  under- 
stand, and  then  Castro  or  Joatjuin  would  turn 
to  me  and  ask  me  what  I  suppose  was  the  same 
question.    I  would  say  something  in  reply  which 
they   did   not   understand,   as   neither  of    them 
knew  English.      At  this  they  would  quickly  turn 
and    translate    to    the    delicate  -  looking    young 
Spaniard  what  they  themselves  had  not  under- 
stood.    When  my  measure  had  been  taken  fully 
and     satisfactorily,     so     to     speak,    the    young 
Spaniard  signed  a  paper  and  handed  it  to  one 
of  the  Serenas.     It    was   a   receipt   for   my  safe 
delivery  into  gaol. 

And  then  everybody  who  was  able  to  do  so 
iefc.  I  felt  lonesome  as  I  saw  the  big  door 
closing  upon  the  heretios  and  upon  my  friends, 

Vol.  X.— 70. 


WAS    ESCOKTEU   OUT   OF   THK 
FOLICE-S1ATION." 


Joaquin  ana  Castro.  For  a  moment  I  felt  as  a 
man  might  feel  who  was  being  left  alone  on  a 
sinking  ship.  But  I  quickly  recovered  my 
spirits.  My  friends  had  assured  me  that  they 
would  be  round  to  see  me  early  next  morning. 

I  was  not  put  in  a  cell,  but  I  was  allowed  to 
sit  in  the  big  room  with  the  night  director  and 
his  brother  and  the  gaoler  and  two  guards. 
Tlie  room  was  a  primitive-looking,  tumble-down 
sort  of  place,  with  a  low  ceiling  and  strongly 
barreil  windows.  It  had  a  rather  dirty  but  com- 
fortable air,  and  it  struck  me  that  I  might  have 
got  into  a  worse  place. 

.\nd  then  I  began  to  make  myself  agreeable. 
1   found  out  that  the  director's  name  w.is  Iu;in 


554 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


Puente,  and  that  his  brother  was  named  Luis, 
and  that  the  gaoler's  name  was  Miguel.  How  I 
managed  this  it  would  be  difficult  to  explain. 
It  was  partly  by  means  of  gestures  and  partly  by 
odd  words  of  Spanish.  All  were  friendly  dis- 
posed towards  me,  and  that,  of  course,  helped. 

Puente  !  It  was  the  name  of  a  famous  bari- 
tone, and  it  suggested  to  me  the  idea  of  letting 
them  know  that  once  I  had  sung  in  opera  as  a 
baritone.  I  managed  to  convey  this  with  some 
case.  This  was  a  lucky  stroke  of  mine,  for  it 
turned  out  that  Luis  Puente,  the  director's 
brother,  was  an  amateur  baritone,  and  that  he 
had  sung  in  opera  in  Granada.  He  wrote  the 
names  of  the  parts  he  had  sung  on  a  piece  of 
paper. 

It  was  thus  that  relations  were  set  up  of  a 
most  sympathetic  order. 

After  that  I  managed  to  explain  how  I  had 
been  all  over  the  world,  and  what  a  great  man 
I  was  generally.  They  seemed  much  impressed. 
And  then  I  managed  to  tell  them  how  I  had 
once  heard  Ciayarre,  the  Spanish  tenor,  sing  in 
South  America.  This  Spanish  tenor  was  the 
greatest  and  the  grandest  singer  that  had  ever 
existed  !  I  pictured  to  my  listeners  the  un- 
utterable and  boundless  enthusiasm  and  emotion 
that  had  possessed  me  wh.-n  I  heard  him  sing. 
And  then  I  slid  skilfully  to  another  theme. 
Spain  was  the  finest  and  most  wonderful 
country  in  the  world,  and  as  for  the  sport  of 
bull-fighting— well,  it  was  niagni/ico  !  i^ra/ide  ! 
And  so  I  went  on.  We  were  all  like  brothers. 
The  only  rift  in  the  lute,  so  far  as  I  was  con- 
cerned, was  the  fact  that  I  happened  to  be  in 
gaol. 

Hy  this  time  daylight  was  coming  in  through 
the  barred  windows,  and  I  suggested  that  we 
ought  to  have  refreshments.  The  suggestion 
was  received  with  favour,  and  I  gave  one  of  the 
guards  a  peseta  to  go  out  and  see  what  he  could 
do.  He  came  back  with  a  waiter  from  a 
restaurant  that  had  just  opened  up.  We  gave 
our  orders,  and  soon  we  were  regaling  ourselves 
with  h(Jt  coffee  and  biscuits  and  aguardiente. 

After  this  Luis  I'uente  suggested  that  I 
should  lie  down.  And  I  went  and  laid  myself 
down  on  his  brother's— the  director's— bed  and 
was  sf)(jn  aslee[). 

When  I  woke  up  I  began  to  reflect  upon  the 
situation  and  to  wonder  what  they  were  going 
to  (|(j  with  me.  The  glamour  had  passed  off— 
the  glamcHir  that  had  been  thrown  upon  the 
situation  by  my  efforts  of  a  few  hours  before 
in  the  direction  of  fraternity. 

The  all-round  politeness  was,  of  course,  con- 
soling, but  not  knowing  the  language  made  me 
feel  uneasy.  I  could  not  tell  exactly  what  the 
charge  was  against  me.     And  I  was  afraid  that 


something  might  have  happened  during  the 
night,  and  that  I  would  be  blamed  for  it.  One 
could  never  tell.  I  had,  of  course,  witnesses 
to  prove  that  I  had  really  done  nothing,  but 
still  I  felt  uneasy.  I  would  have  given  the 
world  to  have  been  able  to  understand  Spanish. 

The  idea  came  to  me  to  appeal  to  the  English 
Consul.  He  surely  would  be  able  to  get  me 
out  of  the  bother.  But  when  I  turned  the  idea 
over  in  my  mind  I  rejected  it.  I  had  a  strong 
feeling  that  it  would  be  better  to  take  my 
chance  with  the  Spanish  law.  I  felt  that  bring- 
ing in  the  Consul  would  only  inflame  and 
complicate  matters.  He  would  probably  have 
to  communicate  with  Madrid,  and  a  big  thing 
might  be  made  out  of  nothing.  I  had  broken 
the  law  of  the  country  by  firing  off  a  revolver 
at  dead  of  night,  and  there  was  the  end  of  it. 
And  I  determined  to  take  my  chance  with  the 
Spaniards.  It  was  the  manlier  course,  and 
besides  it  struck  me  that  it  was  hardly  fair  to 
overwork  the  Ikitish  Empire. 

My  reverie  was  cut  short  by  hearing  someone 
speak  my  name  in  a  loud  voice.  Bartolome  ! 
Someone  was  telling  someone  else  a  yarn  in 
Spanish  in  the  big  outer  room,  and  my  name 
kept  recurring  in  it.  I  knew  it  must  be  about 
my  exploit  of  the  night  before.  I  listened  hard, 
but  I  could  make  no  connected  sense  out  of  it, 
though  I  could  hear  every  word  distinctly.  It 
was  about  me,  and  still  I  did  not  know  what 
it  was.  And  I  passed  through  a  most  uncomfort- 
able and  anxious  moment.  This  voice  might  be 
saying  all  sorts  of  things  against  me,  and  here 
was  I  unable  to  reply  by  even  a  word.  As  I 
listened  there  came  upon  me  a  curious  feeling  of 
helplessness. 

Eor  a  while  I  lay  quietly.  And  then  I  got 
up  suddenly  and  walked  into  the  outer  room. 
It  was  better  for  me  to  face  it,  whatever  it  was. 

The  sun  was  now  shining  strongly  through  the 
iron  barring  of  the  window,  and  for  the  moment 
I  was  blinded.  The  voice  stopped  as  I  entered 
the  room. 

And  then  I  made  out  who  it  was  that  had 
been  talking.  It  was  one  of  the  serenos  wl^o 
had  arrested  me  the  night  before.  He  was 
standing  in  the  middle  of  the  room  in  front  of  a 
man  in  a  blue  uniform — a  man  whom  I  had  not 
seen  before. 

I  looked  at  this  man,  and  he  looked  at  me. 
He  was  evidently  a  person  of  importance  in  the 
prison.  I  could  tell  this  by  the  sereiio's  manner 
as  he  stood  in  front  of  him.  I  liked  his  face. 
It  was  at  once  iiitelligL-nt  and  kiiully.  He 
signed  to  me  to  sit  down. 

I  sat  down  and  looked  arcjund.  Luis  Puente 
and  his  brother  were  gone,  and  there  were  two 
guards  in  place  of  the  guards  I   had  last  seen. 


A    'rkAMl'     IN     SI'AIN. 


555 


The  only  one  that  was  left  of  my  friends  of  tlie 
night  before  was  the  gaoler,  .Miiiiicl.  He  was 
sitting  half  asleep  in  a  chair,  with  a  cigarette  in 
his  mouth. 

I  looked  hard  at  the  sereno,  and  waited  for  him 
to  continue  his  narrative  ;  but  he  did  not  speak 
again.      He  went  and  sal  down  near  the  door. 

And  then  the  man  with  the  uniforo)  came 
over  and  tried  to  talk  with  me,  i)ut  it  was  a 
failure.  All  that  I  could  uiulersland  was  that 
he  meant  to  be  really  kindly. 

I  endeavoured  to  ask  iiim  if  I  would  gel  my 
revolver  back,  but 
I  failed  to  make 
him  understand.  At 
last  I  made  a  rough 
drawing  of  it  on  a 
sheet  of  paper,  and 
after  a  great  deal  of 
work  he  got  my 
meaning.  He  then 
let  me  know  that  I 
would  get  it  back  — 
because  I  had  a 
license.  I  found 
that  I  could  under- 
stand him  much 
more  easily  than  he 
could  me. 

Our  attempts  at 
exchanging  ideas 
were  interrupted  by 
a  loud  knock  on  the 
big  door.  Miguel 
went  and  opened  it, 
and  let  in  a  man  of 
the  (iuardia  Civil 
(Civil  Ciuard).  With 
the  guard  were  two 
men— one  of  them 
handcuffed.  He 
remained  standing 
near  the  big  door 
whilst  the  guard 
and  the  other  man 
came  up  to  the 
table  where  the 
director  del  arresto 
— the  man  with  the 
blue    uniform  —was 

now  sitting.  The  guard  spoke  to  the  director 
for  a  while  and  then  the  prisoner  was  asked 
some  question,  to  which  he  answered  "  Si " 
(Yes).  The  director  then  filled  up  a  paper, 
which  the  guard  and  the  other  man  signed. 

At  this  point  I  struck  in  and  asked  what  the 
man  was  arrested  for.  The  director  understood 
my  question  and  made  an  answer.  lUit  I  could 
not  understand. 


\ 


'^     %^ 


'I'he  man  who  was  handcuffed  was  a  middle- 
sized,  powerful-looking  young  man  with  black 
eyes  and  a  square,  strong  face.  He  did  not 
look  like  one  who  belonged  to  (iranada.  He 
had  the  look  of  the  mountains  about  him.  His 
skin  had  the  darkness  that  comes  of  ex[)Osure 
to  wind  and  sun — added  to  its  natural  darkness. 
I  was  sorry  for  the  man  who  was  liandcuffed. 
He  was  a  fme,  resolute-looking  young  fellow. 
He  was  something  between  twenty-three  and 
twenty-si.x  years  old.  What  his  crime  was  I 
don't  know.      Probably  something  serious.     He 

looked  like 
a  man  who 
would  do 
something 
serious  if  he 
felt  that  the 
occasion  de- 
manded it. 
I  spoke  to 
h  i  m  and 
smiled.  And 
he  smiled 
back.  We 
were  in  the 
same  boat 
—  f e  1 1 o  w- 
p  ri  soners. 
And  1  put  my  hand 
into  my  pocket,  got 
out  a  peseta,  and 
held  it  towards  him. 
"  Aguardiente,"  I 
said.  But  his  hands 
were  held  so  tightly 
together  by  the 
handcuffs  that  he 
was  unable  to  take 
it.  Miguel,  however, 
came  to  the  rescue. 
He  put  the  peseta 
into  the  young  fel- 
low's pocket. 

The  formalities, 
whatever  they  were, 
were  over  now,  and 
Miguel  opened  the 
big  tloor  again,  and 
the  guard  and  the 
man  who  was  handcufleil  and  the  other  man 
passed  out. 

It  was  about  nine  in  the  morning  now,  and  it 
struck  me  that  mv  .Spanish  friends  should  have 
arrived  by  this  tin'ie.  Hut  the  best  thing  for  me 
to  do  was  to  wait  patiently.  In  fact  it  was  the 
only  thing  possible  to  do.  I  was  absolutely 
powerless  in  the  matter. 


WFKK    IN-     rHK    SAMK    HOAT  — Kl- I.I.O\V-l'RIS<l.\  ERS 


55^> 


'I'HK    UIDK    \\UKI.1>    MAGAZINE. 


An  hour  passed,  and  I  got  anxious.  During 
that  time  Enrique  Tejada  —  the  director  del 
arresto — and  I  had  been  trying  to  talk.  But 
ten  o'clock,  and  no  one  turning  up  made  me 
feel  uneasy.  Again  I  thought  of  the  English 
Consul,  but  I  had  the  same  strong  feeling  that 
I  had  had  at  first  against  making  any  move  in 
that  direction. 

Suddenly  it  occurred  to  me  to  send  a  note  to 
Santiago,  the  manager  of  the  hotel  where  I  was 
staying.  I  wrote  one  out  and  gave  it  to  Tejada, 
telling  him  as  well  as  I  could  that  I  wanted  it  to 
be  sent  at  once  to  the  hotel.  Tejada  said  "Si  " 
most  obligingly,  but — well,  he  laid  the  note  on 
the  table.  Again  I  spoke  to  him — and  I  pointed 
to  one  of  the  guards,  meaning  that  I  wanted 
him  to  act  as  messenger.  Also,  I  took  two 
pesetas  out  of  my  pocket  and  offered  it  to  the 
guard.  To  this  I'ejada  said  "  Cinco  minutos  " 
(five  minutes).  But  twenty  minutes  passed, 
note  remained  on  the  table, 
another  plan.  I  asked  if  one 
couldn't  take  me  to  the  hotel 
There  I  would  be  able  to  see 
Santiago    and 


and    slill    the 
Then    I    tried 
of  the  guards 
as  his  prisoner. 
and    talk    with 

Constant  and  arrange  what 
could  be  done.  After  mucli 
labour  on  my  part  Tejada 
seemed  to  understand  and  to 
assent  to  my  proposition.  I 
was  overjoyed.  It  had  now  got 
very  hot  in  the  prison,  and 
being  there,  together  with  the 
anxiety  of  not  knowing  wiiat 
was  going  to  haj^pen,  had  got 
on  my  nerves.  I  had  given  up 
my  Spanish  friends. 

I  stood  up,  and  the  guard 
stood  up  and  buckled  on  his 
sword.  It  seemed  too  good  to 
be  true  that  I  was  going  to  be 
let  out  into  the  open  air.  And 
it  was  too  good  to  be  truo.  For 
when  I  moved  towards  the  big 
door  and  signed  for  myself  and 
the  guard  to  be  let  out,  'J'ejada 
shrugged  his  shoulders  and 
said  '"  iniposil'le." 

I  could  therefore  neither 
send  a  note  anywhere  nor  do 
anything,  and  for  the  first  liiiu 
the  whole  business  looked  really 
serious.  I  would  be  taken  into 
court— I  w(jul(l  not  understand 
a  word  -and  all  sorts  of  things 
might  be  said  against  me!  I  was 
now  at  a  loss  altogether.  Per- 
haps I  had  been  accused  of 
something  serious.     Everybody 


was  extremely  polite  to  me,  but,  for  all  that,  I 
was  shut  up  here  in  gaol  and  unable  to  get 
out  even  a  message. 

And  then  it  was  that  something  happened.  A 
quick,  sharp  knock  came  on  the  door.  Miguel 
opened  it  and,  to  my  joy,  in  stepped  Jose  Castro. 

Never,  during  the  whole  course  of  my  life, 
was  I  so  glad  to  see  anyone.  Here  was  indeed 
a  friend.  One  who  knew  the  language — one  who 
knew  what  had  happened  -one  who  w^as  on  my 
side  !  He  knew  no  more  English  than  did 
Tejada,  but  that  mattered  nothing.  He  was  one 
of  the  friends  who  were  going  to  get  me  out ! 

After  greeting  me  with  the  utmost  warmth 
he  bowed  to,  and  shook  hands  with,  Tejada. 
And  then  he  went  over  to  the  telephone.  I 
had  thought  of  trying  to  use  the  telephone 
before  he  came  in,  but  I  had  given  up  the  idea. 
The  bigness  of  the  task  had  appalled  me.  I 
could  never  have  made  the  telephone  people 
understand  what  I   wanted. 

Castro  was  now  talking  to  Santiago  over  the 
telephone,  and  telling  him  all  about  it.  I,  too, 
went  to  the  telephone,  but  as  Santiago's  English 


A    MAN    KNTEKEI)    AND    I  All)    A    lAIKH    IlKKOkK    MK   ON     I  UK   TAIII.E.' 


A     IKAMl'     IX     >rAl\". 


557 


was  of  the  shaky,  uncertain  variety  — and  was 
not  improved  by  coming  over  the  wire— I  made 
way  again  for  Castro. 

Santiago  would  be  down  in  vicnte  minutos 
(twenty  minutes).  Castro  assured  me  that  all 
was  well.  I  wt)uld  be  out  of  gaol  in  dos  /loras 
(two  hours). 

Soon  Santiago  arrived  with  Constant,  a  French 
mining  engineer,  who  spoke  both  English  and 
Spanish  fluently.  They  laughed  and  shook 
hands  with  me,  and  assured  me  that  all  was 
well.  And  then  Constant  and  Santiago  and 
Castro  left  me,  saying  that  they  would  be  back 
soon  with  an  order  for  my  release. 

And  sure  enough  they  were  back  in  some- 
thing over  an  hour — back  with  the  order  which 
they  exchanged  with  Tejada  for  myself. 

I  was  now  free  to  go,  and  after  shaking  hands 
with  Tejada  and  Miguel  and  the  guards  I 
stepped  out  with  my  friends  through  the  big 
door  to  liljerty. 

But  that  was  not  the  end  of  the  affair. 

The  next  day  I  was  sitting  writing  in  my  room 
when  a  knock  came  on  the  door.  A  man 
entered  and  laid  a  paper  before  me  on  the  table. 
There  was  no  use  of  my  asking  him  what  the 
paper  meant,  though  I  knew  well  that  it  bore 
some  relation  to  the  injury  I  hatl  inflicted  on 
the  Spanish  law  the  night  but  one  before. 

I  made  the  man  sit  down,  gave  him  a 
cigarette,  and  called  for  my  friend  Constant. 
Constant  came  and  explained  that  the  paper 
meant  notliing  —  absolutely  nothing.  It  was 
only  a  request  from  the  abogado  to  call  on  him 
next  day  at  one  o'clock.  The  abogado  was  a 
counsellor  who  acted  as  judge. 

"It  is  a  mere  nothing,  senor,"  said  Constant, 
reassuringly.      "  You  but  call  to  see  the  judge." 

By  this  time  I  was  beginning  to  get  it  into 
my  head  that  these  mere  noLliings  often  meant 
a  good  deal  in  Spain.  The  Spaniards  were 
great  in  the  art  of  covering  with  velvet  the  grip 
of  steel. 

"  Must  I  go  to  court  ?  "  I  asked.  "  Does  the 
judge  sit  in  court  ?  ' 

"  Yes,  he  do  sit  in  the  court.  But  it  is  a 
mere  nothing.  I  go  with  you.  Santiago  go 
with  you.     AH  is  well.      It  is  nothing." 

"  But  is  it  necessary  for  me  to  go?  "  I  asked 
again.  "Can't  some  other  way  be  managed? 
doing  there  to-morrow  will  make  me  lose  a 
day's  work." 

"  Ah,  that  is  bad.  But  you  but  go  to  the  court." 

"Look  here,  Constant.  If  1  don't  go,  will  I 
be  arrested  ?  " 

"  Perhaps.     I  do  not  know  well." 

"  Oh,  let's  have  it  straight  !  Will  I  be  arrested 
if  I  don't  go  ?  " 


Constant  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  looked 
at  me. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  after  a  pause. 

And  then  he  went  out  along  with  the  man 
who  had  served  the  summons. 

As  I  was  going  to  court  the  next  day  with 
Constant  and  Santiago  and  Castro  the  nature 
of  the  defence  to  be  set  up  on  my  behalf  was 
ex[)lained  to  me.  It  seemed  that  nothing  at 
all  was  to  be  said  about  the  row.  The  story  to 
be  told  to  the  judge  was  that  1  was  explaining 
the  mechanism  of  the  revolver  to  Joaquin, 
and  that  in  the  handling  of  it  the  trigger  was 
accidentally  pressed,  causing  it  to  go  off. 

"  I  will  interpret  for  you,"  said  Constant. 

It  was  a  simple  and  ingenious  defence,  and  it 
had  the  quality  that  defences  usually  have — 
that  of  being  calculated  to  set  forth  in  a  glowing 
light  the  innocence  of  the  person  accused.  It 
was  my  innocence  first  and  verity  second.  But 
I  was  completely  in  the  hands  of  my  inter 
preters.     I  was,  so  to  speak,  as  wax. 

Constant  explained  to  me  that  if  it  became 
known  that  there  had  been  a  row  it  would  then 
be  plain  that  the  revolver  was  fired  with  intent. 
Intent  was  nothing,  of  course,  Constant  ex- 
plained in  his  usual  style  ;  but — well,  if  it  were 
proved,  I  might  possibly  have  to  go  to  prison. 
The  law  in  Spain  was  very  odd  when  the  ques- 
tion of  intent  had  to  be  considered  I 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  my  only  intent  in  firing 
off  the  revolver  at  all  was  a  peaceful  one  — to 
stop  the  row.  I  had  stopped  it,  and  most 
probably  saved  life,  and  for  reward  I  had  been 
clapped  into  gaol  and  aflerward:j  had  to  go 
through  all  this  bother.  I  had  received  the 
peacemakers  usual  reward. 

We  were  in  the  court  punctually  by  one 
o'clock.  It  was  a  small  court  adjoining  the 
great  court,  and  the  abogado  sat  in  a  big  chair. 
Above  him  was  a  picture  of  the  young  Spanish 
King,  Altonso  XIII.  The  picture  was  in  the 
centre  of  a  great,  square  piece  of  stiffened  red 
cloth,  which  ran  nearly  up  to  the  ceiling  anil 
then  was  curved  forward,  so  as  to  throw  a  shade 
over  where  the  abogado  — the  judge— sat. 

We  all  bowed  to  the  abogado,  who  motioned 
to  us  to  sit  down.  .\nd  then  I  noticed  that 
Joaquin — my  companion  of  the  adventure  -was 
sitting  next  to  the  abogado.  Joaquin  came 
from  his  place  of  honour  anil  shook  me  warmly 
by  the  hand,  and  the  abogado  smiled  in  my 
direction.  This  looked  promising.  It  seemed 
that  Joaquin  was  an  advocate,  a  barrister,  who 
did  not  (piite  get  the  number  of  briefs  to  which 
his  talents  entitled  him.  It  was  he,  I  found  out 
afterwards,  who  was  the  engineer  of  my  defence. 

The  abogatlo  was  a  man  of  about  fortv  five. 
He  wore  a  full,  dark   beard.      His  forehead  was. 


558 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MACJAZINE. 


intellectual,   and   in    his   face  was  a   fine,   high 
expression. 

To  people  living  in  England  it  is  impossible 
to  describe  exactly  the  character  and  the  air  of 
this  Spanish  court  of  justice.  It  had  not  the 
severity  nor  the  forbidding  coldness  of  look  of 
an  English  court,  nor  its  absoluteness.  It  was 
much  more  human.  One  felt  that  under  certain 
conditions  a  greater  degree  of  justice  and  equity 
would  be  rendered  in  a  place  of  justice  such  as 
this.  In  a  place  of  justice  such  as  this  subtler 
things  than  a  mere  cognizance  of  facts  would 
count.  Sympathy  would  count.  There  would 
be  a  full  considering  and  a  full  account  taken 
of  provocation.  Here  in  this  court  the  truth 
would  be  grasped  that  the  provoker  is  at  the 
very  least  equally  guilty  witli  the  provoked— that 
truth  of  wliich  the  English  law  takes  so  little 
heed.  In  an  English  court  an  undue  reverence 
for  the  thing  that  is  called  "a  fact"  often  causes 
rank  injustice  to  be  dealt  out  by  a  judge. 

I  contrasted  the  bearing  and  manner  of  the 
abogado  with  the  bearing  of  some  of  the  men 
who  deal  out  justice  in  the  courts  of  London, 
and  I  must  say  that  the  abogado  by  no  means 
suffered  in  comparison.  True,  he  smoked  cigar- 
ettes whilst  in  court  ;  but,  on  the 
other  hand,  he  was  not  rude.  He 
would  not  be  the  man  to  take  advan- 
tage of  his  position  to  insult  people 
who  were  in  trouble.  Neither 
would  he  make  feeble,  point- 
less jokes  anent  the  misfor 
tunes  of  others. 


No  one  was 
sworn.  The  pro- 
ceedings began  by 
the  (juestioning  of 
the  sere  HO  s  —  two 
of  whom  were  in 
attendance.  In 
the  meantime  my 
revolver  and  the 
cartridges  had 
been  brought  in 
and  laid  upon  the 
tabic  bef(jre  the 
abogado,  and  the 
serenos  told  of  my 
arrest  and  of  the 
finding  of  the  re- 
volver upon  me. 
I  was  then  asked 
—  through  Con- 
stant —  if  I  had 
fired  with  intent. 

"No,"     1      an 
swered. 


"CK  Gf>»'-i'- 


I    AT   ONCE    FAIU,    AND    WAS   (;IVEN    A    RECEII'T.' 


The  serenos  were  then  asked  if  I  had  fired 
with  intent.  The  answer  was  that  they  did  not 
know.     They  had  not  seen  me  fire  the  shot. 

Everybody  in  the  court  was  smoking  cigarettes 
— all  but  myself.  I  had  some  in  my  pocket  in 
a  case,  but  I  hardly  liked  to  take  one  out,  for  it 
struck  me  that  perhaps  it  would  not  be  con- 
sidered etiquette  for  the  criminal  of  the  party  to 
smoke.  I  thought  that  perhaps  that  was  the 
reason  why  Constant  or  Santiago  had  not 
offered  me  one.  But  the  not  offering  of  a 
cigarette  to  me  may  have  been  an  oversight. 

Off  in  front  of  me  sat  a  very  stout  Spaniard, 
who  looked  for  all  the  world  like  a  typical 
English  baihfK  of  the  county  court.  He  had 
the  same  big,  heavy  build,  and  the  same  fiorid 
colour  of  face,  and  the  same  dull,  aggrieved 
expression.      He,  too,  was  smoking  a  cigarette. 

At  last  the  abogado  opened  a  big  law  book, 
and  after  turning  over  the  pages  till  he  got  to 
the  place  he  wanted   he  beckoned  to  Constant. 

Constant  went 
over  and  got  the 
book,  and  then  I 
was  shown  the 
passage  relating 
to  the  firing  off  of 
firearms  within  the 
limits  of  a  town. 
The  fine  for  the 
same  was  between 
five  and  fifty  pese- 
tas. Constant 
translated  it  tome, 
and  told  nic  that 
the  abogado  had 
decided  to  fine 
,  me  only  ten  pese- 

/  /  tas.      This    I     at 

once  paid,  and  1 
was  given  a  re- 
ceipt for  it  from 
a  grave  old  Span- 
ish gentleman  who 
wore  s})ectacles, 
and  whose  cigar- 
ette was  nearly 
smoked  to  the 
end.  I  offered  him 
one  from  my  own 
^  case,     which     he 

^  *        accepted    with    a 

"  Oracias,  sehor." 
I  put  the  case  back  into 
my  pocket  without  tak- 
ing one  out  for  myself. 
I  v/as  not  yet  quite  sure  of  my  ground. 
Just   after   this    Santiagf)  came  up 
and  acquainted  me  with  the  fact  that 


A    Tk  wii'    IN    >l'Al.\ 


559 


I  had  to  pay  the  costs  of  the  couil 
— eighteen  pesetas.  Again  I  shelled 
out  and  again  I  was  given  a  receipt 
by  the  giave^ld  Spanish  gentleman 
with  the  spectacles.  Things  seemed 
to  be  going  with  much  smoothness. 
1  was  supplying  oil  to  the  wheels  of 
the  law. 

But  was  I  going  to  get  back  my 
revolver?  It  was  one  of  the  best 
revolvers  that  could  be  got  in 
London,  and  everybody  in  Granada 
had  admired  it  —  policemen  and 
everybody — and  I  was  afraid  that 
some  ollicial  might   [)ay  it  the  deli- 


kf :  -'GTS^hoO,     ^^"-Bi 


Q/y  CLACE  1-   ■ 


Partt  mperur  fan  tKlrtfu  .. 


iN.I).UI.S.i 


....-■^^-j:»< 


,  '^^  'y^^f  .■/*• 


^•w^*-* 


I  lit;  l.liGAL  INSlKL.MIi.N  1   Mil  II.\L,  l'_'i.  1  il  .11;.  KliN.NEKV  a  "'CKl.Mlv     A.NU  lUl,  1 


■■/i^.'^ 


^^ 


^.^i  ,..,y^.  ^xJ  ^^  'yf!-.,-;^^    y^-^p^.^^ ^.'^^  v^v 


.0-^^^> 


1^ 


^. 


'•ti->%*»f.rf*sS'   t'^./Ca^.^^.^ 


/^^ 


Ar    .^^. 


•.-X-- 


yy  ^  '''- y 


J 


THE   SUM.MONS   SERVED    ON    THE   AUTHOR    FOR    FIRING    HIS    REVOLVER    IN    THE   STUEUT 


cate  compliment  of  confiscating  it — even  though 
I  did  possess  a  license  for  the  carrying  of  arms. 
I  spoke  to  Constant  of  my  fears  in  a  low 
tone,  and  he  walked  over  to  the  abogado  and 
conferred  with  him.  The  result  was  .satisfactory, 
for  the  abogado  smiled  and  beckoned  to  me.  I 
walked  up  to  the 


table  and  he 
handed  me  the 
revolver,  along 
with  the  five 
cartridges  and 
the  empty  sliell. 
I  thanked  him 
and  went  back 
to  my  seat. 

The  trial  was 
over  now,  and 
everybody 
looked  satisfied. 


^  /^^rti^y^^Z^^ 


THE   l<KCi:ll'r    KOK    TMH   COSTS   OK   THE  COfK 


[  To  III'  lOn/ini/cJ.) 


i'.vcn  the  stout  Spaniard  who  looked 
like  an  English  county  court  bailiff 
— even  he  wore  an  air  of  content- 
ment. I  felt  contented  myself. 
The  trial  had  lasted  something  over 
an  hour. 

Suddenly  I  noticed  the  judge 
looking  at  me.  And  then  he  spoke 
to  me  from  his  chair  of  judgment. 
Constant  translated  what  he  said. 
He  was  asking  me  if  I  were  pleased 
—  if  I  were  satisfied  with  the  trial. 

I  stood  up  and  answered,  through 
Constant,    that    I    was    very    much 
pleased  —  that  I  was  very  satisfied  in- 
deed— and  that    I   was  more  than 
delighted   to  luue   had   the   honour 
of  meeting  the  judge.     The  unique- 
ness of  the  question— of  a   judge 
asking  one  who  had  been  a  prisoner 
if  he  were  satisfied  with  his  trial— appealed  to 
me.      I   wondered   if  an    Englishman    had   ever 
been  asked  such  a  question  before. 

And  then  Constant  and  .'t-'anliago  and 
Joacpiin  and  Castro  and  I  rcjse  and  shook 
hands  with  everybody  in  ciuirt.     1  even  grasped 

the  hand  of  the 

stout,  bailiff- 
lookingSpaniard 
with  fervour. 
And  1  managetl 
t  o  m  a  k  e  t  h  i- 
judge  u  iider  - 
stand,  as  I  shook 
his  hand  frr  die 
secom:  St 

time,    that    1 
hoped    to    see 
him  again    soon 
;ii  I  .■  .Ion  ! 


On  the  March  in  the  Bahr-el-Ghazal. 


l'.\    Cai'tain   H.  E.  Haymes,  of  the  Royal  Arm\    Medical  Corps. 

II. 

An  interesting  account  of  one  of  the  little  expeditions  of  which  the  general  public  hear  next  to  nothing, 
but  which  accomplish  a  vast  amount  of  useful  work.     Captain  Haymes  was  a  member  of  a  small  but  well- 
equipped  expedition  which,   under  Colonel   Sparkes,  C.M.G.,  was  sent  to  re-occupy  the   Bahr-el-Ghazal 
province.    The  author  illustrates  his  narrative  with  some  extremely  striking  and  curious  photographs. 


N  January  7th,  1901,  Colonel  Sparke.s 
and  I,  with  twenty-five  men  of  the 
Soudanese  troops  and  twelve  don- 
key.s,  started  on  a  patrol  to  the  west 
to  visit  the  old  Government  zareba 
on  the  Waw  River,  about  seventy  miles  distant. 
Our  object  was  to  select  a  spot  in  that  part 
of  the  country  for  building  a  station.  Twenty- 
five  men,  with  a  native  officer,  were  left  to  build 
barracks  at  Tong,  while  the  remainder,  with 
Boulnois  and  Pirrie  and  all  the  animals, 
returned  to  the  river  to  bring  up  rations. 

We  started  marching  due  west  through  thick 
bush  ;  no  road  existed,  and  for  some  miles  we 
had  to  cut  our  way  with  a.\es.  We  took  with  us 
a  small    canvas   boat  in    two  sections,  capable 


'  Slaves  were  UMially  referred  to  as  "black  ivory."— Ed, 


of  holding  three  men.  This  boat  only  weighed 
about  ninety  pounds — just  a  nice  load  for  one 
donkey.  Twelve  miles  took  us  to  the  ruins  of 
an  old  zareba,  which  had  been  one  of  the  chief 
centres  for  collecting  ivory — both  white  and 
black* — some  thirty  years  previously.  Four 
miles  farther  on  we  struck  a  small  Bongo 
village,  where  we  were  well  received,  and 
halted  for  breakfast.  Two  of  our  donkews 
had  fallen  so  lame  that  they  had  to  be  sent 
back  to  Tong  and  their  loads  divided  among 
the  others.  In  the  evening  we  moved  on  to  the 
MullmuU  River,  where  we  found  the  remains  of 
a  bridge  made  by  the  French.  Khors,  or  water- 
ways, are  numerous  hereabouts  in  the  rainy 
season,  although  most  of  them  are  quite  dry  in 

the   early   months   of 
the    year.       It    is    no 
unusual    thing    for   a 
khor    to    rise    six    or 
eight    feet    in    a    few 
hours,     a     peculiarity 
which  is  aj)t  to  prove 
awkward    to     anyone 
camped  in  its  vicinity. 
The  accompanying 
photo,  shows  a  primi- 
tive   native    bridge 
thrown    over 
one    of    these 
khors.      The 
man     seen 
standing       be- 
n  e  a  t  h    the 
bridge  on  the 
extreme   left 
gives  some  idea 
of    the    height 
to    which    the 
water  rises. 

We  spent  a 
miserable 
night,    as    the 


UN      111!'.     MARC  11     l.\      1111:     UAH  K  1J.(  ,liA/.Al.. 


561 


mosquitoes  simply  swarmed,  and  they  were 
extremely  voracious.  On  the  following  day 
the  country  changed  considerably,  becoming 
park-like  and  undulating.  Ironstone  in  huge 
slabs  was  scattered  about  everywhere.  Several 
old  native  furnaces — made  of  clay  and  shaped 
like  an  hour-glass  —  were  seen.  The  natives 
obtain  a  rich  ore  near  the  surface,  which,  after 
treatment  in  these  furnaces,  produces  an 
excellent  soft  metal,  from  which  they  make 
their  spears,  knives,  axes,  etc.  Antelope  were 
to  be  seen  every  day,  and  we  had  no  difficulty 
in  getting  plenty  of  meat. 

Owing   to   the   great    distances    between    the 
watering-places,  it  was  often  necessary  to  march 
at  night,  as  after  the  sun   had  gone  down  the 
men  and  animals  did  not  suffer  so  much  from 
thirst.     The  country  in  many  places  was  terribly 
cut  up  by  elephant  tracks,  and  as  we  stumbled 
along   in    the   dark,    men    and    donkeys    were 
continually      falling. 
Next   day  we  came 
upon  a  Bongo  giave, 
which    merits  de- 
scription.      A    large 
pile  of   ironstone 
covered     the     spot, 
and  the  trunk  of  a 
tree    stood    at     the 
head,  cut  off  about 
eight  feet   from    the 
ground.      The   tree 
was  roughly  carved 
into     what     looked 
like  an  old-fashioned 
bed  -  post.      Th  e 
Bongo     method     of 
burial    is     peculiar. 
An    ordinary    grave 
is    dug    about    five 
feet  deep,  and  in  one 
side  of  this  a  recess 
is  scooped  out,  into 
which   the  deceased 
is  placed  in  a  sitting 
posture,  with  a  few 
logs  to  keep  him  in 
position.    The  grave 
is   then    filled    in. 
The  idea  appears  to 

be   to  prevent   tb.e   earth    from    falling    directly 
on  the  body. 

A  march  of  five  days  took  us  to  the  Jur  River, 
which  is  some-  hundred  and  fifty  yards  broad, 
with  banks  twelve  feet  high.  The  boat  was 
launched  to  take  us  across,  and  the  donkeys 
swam  over  without  any  mishap.  Some  natives 
belonging  to  the  Jur  tribe  met  us  on  the  other 
bank  and  took  us  to  the  outskirts  of  their 
Vol.  X.— 71. 


village.  The  Jur  resemble  the  iJinkas  in  niany 
ways,  although  they  speak  a  distinct  language. 
'J'hey  are  fine  big  men  and  cultivate  large 
quantities  of  grain. 

The  chief  occupation  of  the  Jur  is  fishing. 
When  the  rivers  are  low  most  of  the  fish  are 
speared.  It  is  a  very  pretty  sight  to  watch 
some  twenty  men  fishing  in  the  shallows ;  a 
dark  night  is  chosen,  and  eacii  man  carries  a 
lighted  torch  in  the  left  hand,  which  he  swings 
round  and  round  his  head.  In  his  riglit  he 
carries  a  spear,  which  he  throws  at  the  fish 
which  come  near,  attracted  by  the  light.  They 
have  a  great  respect  for  crocodiles,  never  attack- 
ing them  unless  very  small.  I  have  seen  a 
whole  party  of  them  break  up  in  terror  at  the 
very  mention  of  the  word  "  crocodile."  \\'hen 
the  rains  are  on  these  ingenious  people  make  a 
barrier  of  grass  matting  right  across  the  small 
rivers  and  khors.  One  or  two  men  stand  by 
this  stockade,  spear  in  hand,  whilst  others 
get  in  up-stream  and  drive  the  fish  down. 


[Photo. 


gradually  closing  in  and  spearing  the  fish 
against  the  matting.  The  above  photo,  shows 
one  of  these  fish  traps  in  jiosition. 

The  Jur  also  maile  use  of  baskets  exactly  on 
the  same  princi|)le  as  our  own  eel  traps. 

A  long  march  through  dense  bush  brought 
us  at  last  to  the  old  (lovernment  zareba  on  the 
\\aw  River.  On  the  way  we  disturbed  some 
elephants,  but  did  not  get  a  shot  at  them.  The 
\\'aw  is  in  ])laces  most  beautihil  :  large  trees 
overhang  the  banks  on  either  side,  affording  an 


562 


THE    WTHE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


excellent  shade.  The  whole  country,  however, 
was  deserted,  the  nearest  village  being  twelve 
miles  off.  Colonel  Sparkes  decided  that  it 
would  be  better  to  select  a  spot  on  the  Jur 
River  as  a  site  for  the  station.  W'e  therefore 
started  down  stream,  Sparkes  in  tlie  canvas  boat 
with  two  men,  the  remainder  marching.  I'he 
distance  of  ten  miles  took  us  to  the  junction  of 
the  Waw  and  Jur  Rivers,  where  we  camped  for 
the  day  on  a  sand  -  bank.  Hippos  were 
numerous,  as  many  as  eighteen  heads  being 
seen  at  one  time.  News  was  brought  to  us 
here  that  the  natives  were  going  to  oppose  our 
further  progress,  so  that  it  behoved  us  to  keep 
our  eyes  open.  We  intended  going  to  an  old 
deserted  French  fort,  four  miles  down  stream, 
as  we  thought  it  probable  that  they  had  selected 
a  healthy  spot  for  their  station,  so  Sparkes 
again  went  in  the  boat,  the  rest  of  us  marching 
through  high  grass. 


look-out    for  surprises, 
On   the  way  Colonel 


We  kept  a  constant 
but  never  saw  a  soul. 
Sparkes  landed  to  try 
and  get  a  guinea-fowl, 
but  to  his  intense  sur- 
prise stumbled  on  to  two 
lions.  As  he  only  had 
his  shot-gun  he  beat  a 
hasty  retreat. 

We  found  the  remains 
of  a  good  fort  built  witli 
ironstone,  well  situated 
on  high  ground  com- 
manding the  river,  and 
guns  had  evidently  been 
mounted  there  at  one 
time.  All  the  other 
buildings  had  been 
burnt,  and  the  whole 
place  was  completely 
grown  over  with  thick 
bush.  As  it  appeared  in 
every  way  suitable  and 
a  healthy  spot.  Colonel 
S[)arkes  decided  to  build 
our  new  station  there. 

We  af  once  started  a 
garden  and  planted  all  sorts  of  TLuropean  and 
Egyptian  seeds. 

The  natives  proved  friendly  and  brought  in 
corn  and  sheep,  which  they  sold  readily  for  cloth 
and  beads.  The  locusts  had  not  done  much 
damage  in  the  district,  and  there  seemed  every 
probability  of  the  new  station  being  able  to 
suj)port  itself  locally. 

After  a  stay  of  five  days  we  started  on  our 
return  journey  to  Tong— going  by  a  different 
route.  From  there  Colonel  Sparkes  and  Captain 
Pirrie,  with   about  fifty   men,    started   on  a   long 


patrol  to  the  east,  with  the  object  of  selecting 
positions  for  posts,  visiting  the  various  tribes, 
and  meeting  the  Belgians  at  Kirro,  on  the  Nile. 
Meanwhile  I  returned  to  Waw,  with  twenty-five 
men  and  their  wives,  to  build  the  station. 

At  every  village  I  passed  I  did  what  I  could 
in  the  medical  line.  Medicine  is  po[)ular  in 
Africa,  and  I  soon  had  a  number  of  patients 
marching  stolidly  along  with  me  in  the  hope  of 
receiving  a  pill.  Ihere  was  a  great  run  on 
Epsom  salts,  which  seemed  to  please  the  native 
palate.  They  were  not  at  all  afraid  of  the 
knife,  and  I  was  able  to  relieve  a  good  deal  of 
suffering  one  way  and  another.  Chloroform 
was  looked  upon  with  great  suspicion.  I  was 
administering  some  to  a  patient  once  on  my 
camp  bed,  when  suddenly  he  gave  a  jump,  went 
clean  through  the  canvas,  and  disappeared  into 
the  bush. 

I  started  putting 
up    huts    for    the  -/; 

men    and    women,  '^-' 


and  also  built  a 
"  nuzl,"  or  store- 
house. The  photo- 
graph above  shows  the  work  in  progress. 

We  had  plenty  of  axes,  and  there  was  no  lack 
of  material  close  at  hantl.  Bamboos  were  to  be 
had  at  a  distance  of  four  miles  and  were  brought 
in  on  donkey-back,  and  excellent  rope  for  bind- 
ing the   rafters   was   made   from    the    bark   of  a 


ON      Tlii:     MAKCll     IX      11 II.     1;.\IIK1J.(.11A/AL. 


5^>3 


THE     MUSICAL-BOX     WAS 
CONSTANl'     AITKACTION. 

From  a  Photo. 


creeper.  No  nails  or  ironwork  of  any  kind  were 
used.  It  proved  somewhat  ditticult  to  get  grass 
for  the  thatching,  as  most  of  it  near  the  station 
had  been  burnt,  but  everyone  worked  well 
and  the  place  soon  began  to  take  shape. 
Meanwhile  many  of  the  surrounding  sheiks 
came  in  to  see  us,  always  bringing  a 
present  of  corn  or  sheep.  They  were 
chiefly  of  the  Goio  tribe  —  the  most 
civilized  and  intelligent  we  had  yet  met. 
They  are  good  gardeners  and  have  a  fair 
notion  of  sport.  The  men  all  wore  a  loin 
cloth  and  many  of  them  also  skirts  ;  they 
carried  spears,  bows  and  arrows,  and  often 
rifles,  but  ammunition  was,  as  usual,  very 
scarce. 

A  big  Golo  sheik,  by  the  way,  has 
generally  from  ten  to  twenty  wives,  each 
one  having  a  house  to  herself,  the  huts  of 
the  wives  being  usually  built  in  a  circle 
round  that  (jf  the  sheik.  All  the  chiefs 
seumed  anxious  that  I  should  marry,  and 
one  went  so  far  as  to  offer  me  his  daughter 
— a  little  girl  of  about  twcbe — for  four 
bits  of  rlolh,  some  beads,  a  lump  of  salt, 
and  a  pair  of  boots.  As  I  was  short  of 
the  latter,  however,  I  was  unable  to  close 
the  bargain  ! 

Our  nuisical-box  caused  endless  amuse- 
ment, and  soon  became  famous  all  over 
the  country-side.  The  above  photo,  shows 
the  keen  interest  that  was  taken  in  it  l)y 
tlie  natives. 

Durra  was  brought  in  regularly,  and 
we  were  able  to  supply  the  station  until 
the  following  harvest.     As  soon  as  all  our 


height - 
planted 
little     a 


parly  were  housed  I 
started  to  clear  a  large 
space  in  the  bush  for  our 
own  crops.  All  hands 
were  set  to  work  cutting 
down  trees,  and  even  the 
women  worked  well  at 
clearing  the  ground,  In 
about  two  months  sixteen 
acres  had  been  cleared 
and  planted  with  durra. 

The  baboons  proved  a 
good  deal   of   trouble,  as 
tliey    scratched     up     the 
grain    before   it    sjjrouted 
and  ate  the  heads  before 
they    ripened.      Antelope 
and    birds,    too,    required 
watching,  so  a  couple  of 
huts  were   put  uj)  in  the 
field    and    men    kept    on 
guard     night     and     day. 
Durra   grows   to   a   great 
-often  fifteen   to    eighteen    feet — and    if 
just  when  the  rain   begins  requires  very 
ttention.      The    accompanying    photo. 


nil-;  I'KonucT  or 
From  a\ 


A    l-EW    CKAINS    OP    OUKRA   THAT   1»>K    KOOT    IIV 
CHANCE  ON    STONV   CROU.SU.  l/'/wtO. 


564 


THK     WIDE     WOK  1.1)     MACiAZlNE. 


shows  the  product  of  a  few  grains  that  took  root 

by  chance  inside  the  fort  on  hard,  stony  ground. 
There  was  any  amount  of  game  close  to  the 

station,  and  we   were  consequently  never  short 

of  meat.      Lions  were  heard  almost  every  night, 

and  I    was  lucky  enough  to 

kill  a  couple  of  lionesses  the 

first  month  I  was  at  Waw. 
Wart-h  og 

were  common, 

and,    although 

not     exactly 

Mohammedan 

diet,   were  ap- 
preciated by 

most   of   the 

men  ;  if  killed 

when  young  I 

consider  them 

a   great    treat. 

Roan  antelope, 

tiang,   hart- 

beeste,     and 

kob   were   the 

mo^t  common 

animals  in  the 

district.    None 

of  these,  how- 
ever, carry  any 

fat,   which 

makes    their 

flesh  decidedly 

uninteresting  from  a  gastronomic  point  of  view. 

The  hippos,  on  the  contrary,  produce  enormous 

quantities  of  fat,  and  are  thought  highly  of 
by  the  natives.  Although  they  swarm  in  all 
the  rivers  they  are  seldom  killed  in  this  part 
of  the  country,  as  the  Dinkas  and  Jur  are 
very  much  frightened  of  them.  The  hippo  is 
said  to  be  a  dangerous  beast  when  wounded, 
and  there  is  no  doubt  lliat  he  will  occasionally 
land  and  face  his  adversary.  I  once  saw  this 
happen  myself,  under  the  following  circum- 
stances. When  Sir  Rudolf  Slatin,  the  Inspector- 
(Jeneral  of  the  Soudan,  came  to  visit  Waw,  a 
great  many  big  sheiks  came  to  greet  him,  bring- 
ing with  them  about  four  hundred  followers. 
As  We  had  to  provide  food  for  all  these  for 
several  days  we  decided  to  shoot  a  hip[)o.  We 
went  to  the  nearest  pool,  where  about  twenty 
iiippos  were  to  be  seen.  Slatin  Pasha  was  some 
way  down  stream,  and  fired  at  a  big  fellow, 
wounding  him  in  the  ht'ad  -  whereupon  the 
brute  made  strai^lit  for  the  bank,  landed,  and 
charged. 

Slatin's  boy  bolted  at  once  with  all  the  ammu- 
nition, as  did  also  all  the  natives,  and  the 
Inspector-General,  being  left  with  an  emi)ty 
rifle,   very  wisely   followed   their  example,    and 


succeeded  in  escaping  in  the  long  grass,  which 
was  here  quite  ten  feet  high. 

In  the  meantime  I  had  managed  to  kill 
another  hippo  at  the  top  of  the  pool,  so  leaving 
some  men  to  wait  till  he  floated,  which  they 
generally  do  in  about  four  hours,  we  went  back 
to  camp.  News  soon  came  in  that  two  hippos 
wer.e  dead,  so  no  doubt  the  wounded  one  had 


;  TWO  HIPPOPOTAMI  SHOT  BY  SLATIN  PASHA  AND  THE  AUTHOU 

From  a  Photo. 

returned  to  the  river  and  died.  I  succeeded  in 
getting  a  photo,  of  the  two  dead  monsters. 

Although  at  first  we  appeared  to  have  a  large 
excess  of  meat,  in  twenty-four  hours  nothing 
was  to  be  seen  of  those  hippos  save  the  skulls 
and  ribs.  The  natives  cut  the  meat  into  long 
thick  strips,  which  they  dry  in  the  sun,  and  then 
partially  cook ;  these  keep  more  or  less  good 
for  several  weeks. 

I  may  mention  here  that  our  garden  proved 
very  successful,  the  tomatoes  doing  especially 
well,  also  the  cucun)bers  and  marrows. 

On  March  3rd  I  was  joined  by  Major 
Boulnois,  who  brought  me  the  first  intimation 
of  the  death  of  Queen  Victoria.  He  was  pass- 
ing through  Waw  on  his  way  to  visit  Dem 
/Aibier,  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  to 
the  west,  and  I  cannot  describe  the  treat  it  was 
to  speak  to  a  fellow-countryman  again.  He 
brought  some  whisky  and  salt  with  him,  and  I 
renunnber  we  had  a  royal  feast.  1  recei\ed 
orders  to  return  at  once  to  the  Tong  post  and 
from  there  push  on  one  hundred  and  twenty 
miles  to  Meshra  Rek,  where  our  boats  were  to 
bring  up  food  and  trade  goods  for  Waw.  I 
started  with  twelve  men  the  next  day,  and 
covered  the  distance  of  one  hundred  and  ninety 


ON    iiii':    MAkcii    i.\    riii;    i;.\iik  I'.i.ciia/.ai. 


505 


OWING   TO   THK    SCARCITY   OF    DONKEYS    THE 
EXPEDITION    HAD   TO   TRAIN    BULLOCKS   TO   ACT 

From  a]  as  fack  animals.  {Photo. 


miles  on  foot  in  eight  and  a  half  days.  We  had 
great  ditihcuhies  with  water,  whieh  was  very 
scarce, as  tlie  rains 

had  not  begun.  =  > 

Often    both    men  ^^  ^l    ^ 

and  animals  had 
to  be  put  on  a 
very  limited 
su[)[)ly  of  care- 
fully -  measured, 
m  u  d  d  )■  water. 
One  night,  whilst 
marching  along 
the  banks  of  the 
Tong  River,  I 
saw  an  extra- 
ordinary sight  — 
about  fifty  hippos 
grazing  on  the 
plain  in  the  moon- 
light. The  moon 
was  shining  on 
their  wet  backs, 
making  the  m 
look  like  gigantic 
glistening  foot- 
balls. One  fellow 
stood  right  across 
my  path  and  never 
stirred    till    I 

[)oked  him  with  my  stick,  when  he  dashed  off 
to  the  river,  taking  a  header  off  a  six-foot  bank. 
He  was  instantly  followed  by  the  whole  lot.  each 
one  rushing  wildly  into  the  river, 
scattering  the  spray  in  the  moon- 
light. It  was  a  most  extraordinary 
spectacle. 

The  road  proved  so  devoid  of 
water  that  I  decided  to  march 
back  by  a  more  direct  route.  The 
donkeys  were  dying  fast,  and  I 
found  it  impossible  to  carry  back 
what  was  necessary  with  the  few 
animals  at  my  disposal.  Several 
fine  bullocks  were  accordingly 
bouglit  and  trained  to  carry 
loads  of  one  hundred  and  twenty 
pounds.  One  of  these  curious 
pack  animals  is  shown  in  the 
above  photo,  being  loaded  up  for 
the  return  journey  to  \\'aw. 

I  found  that  a  regular  station 
had  sprung  up  on  a  little  island 
at  Meshra  Rek.  Oood  huts  had 
been  built  for  the  men  and 
women,  also  an  hospital  and  store- 
house. Sheep  and  [)oultry  were 
to  be  bought,  and  a  brisk  trade 
was   carried    on    by    the    natives. 


1  he  hyenas,  howevtr,  had  been  giving  a  lot  of 
Iroulile  carrying  off  poultry  and  lambs,  and  even 
entering  the  huts  at  night  and  stealing  anything 
eatable.  One  morning  one  of  the.se  brutes  was 
found    drowned   in   a    pit  half  full   of   muddy 

water.  The  old 
women  were  pelt- 
ing him  with  any- 
thing they  could 
find  and  heaping 
curses  on  his 
falherand  mother. 
It  is  a  curious 
habit  amongst 
Mohammedans, 
by  the  way,  to 
curse  the  parents 
of  any  person  or 
creature  they  may 
happen  to  dislike, 
and  not  the  indi- 
vidual. 

A-much  shorter 
route   was   found 
for    the    return 
journey    to    W'asv 
—  only  one  hun- 
dred and    twenty 
miles  in  all — and 
the  water  su|)ply 
was  fiair.    My  road 
once  more  lay  through  the  Dinka  country,  and 
1  was  well  received  at  all  the  villages.     On  one 
occasion  I  was  serenaded  by  a  weird 
Dinka   band.     The  performers  knelt 


-  A 


THEWKIKU    DINKA    "IIAND"   WHICH    SKKF.NAOED 

From  a\  the  AUTHOR.  \l  koU. 


566 


THE    WIDE     WOREI)     AL\(;A/.INE. 


on  the  ground  in  a  row  wiili  an  aspect  of  preter- 
natural gravity  and  blew  into  a  species  of 
clarionet  made  of  bamhcjo.  The  "  con- 
ductor"  held  in  his  ri-ht  hand  a  ratUe  made 
out  of  a  gourd  containing  a  few  pebbles,  and 
with   this    he   beat  time,  working  his  clarionet 


hair,  which  is  worn  in  short  plaits.  The  annexed 
phuto.  shows  a  group  of  women  in  the  centre 
busy  with  their  morning  toilet,  while  the  lady 
to  the  left  is  making  baskets. 

The  natives  were  encouraged  to  bring  all 
their  disputes  to  be  settled  by  the  representative 
of  the  Government.  This  they 
readily  did,  and  in  most  cases 
went  off  well  satisfied  with  the 
decisions  given.  All  small 
grievances  were  left  for  decision 
by  their  own  sheiks,  whilst  things 
of  greater  importance  were 
settled  by  us.  Their  chief  dis- 
putes were  about  cattle  and 
wives ;  several  cases  of  murder 
also  came  before  us.  It  was 
soon  recognised  that  European 
ideas  of  justice  were  quite  in- 
applicable to  these  people,  and 
our  code  had  to  be  modified 
considerably  to  start  with.  The 
native  customs  were  studied  and 
the  opinion  of  a  number  of  the 
head  men  of  various  tribes  taken 
on  all  affairs  ;  their  views  were 
modified  to  meet  ours  as  far  as 


1'  ro>n  a 


NATIVE   WOMEN    Ai'    THKIK    .NKJKMNG   TOILtl. 


with  the  left  hand.  As 
the  "  tune  "  proceeded  the 
"musicians  "  gradually 
shuflled  nearer  and  nearer 
until  they  got  within  a  few 
inches  of  one  another, 
when  the  music  ceased 
aijruptly.  They  have  no 
idea  whatever  of  harmony, 
but  a  very  fair  notion  (;f 
time. 

At  W'aw  1  found  great 
progress  had  iieen  made 
with  the  buildings  and 
also  in  the  garden.  Many 
natives,  chiefly  Oolo,  iiad 
settled  near  the  station 
and  provided  a  fair  supply 
of  poultry  and  vegetables. 
I  found  them  an  intelli- 
gent and  willing  j)eople  ; 
the  women  do  their  share 
of  the  work  and  are  clever 
basket  and  mat  makers. 
They  spend  a  good  deal 
of  time  in  dressing  their 


ON    TH1-:    MARCH     IN     I'lll':     1;.\11R  KL-Cll A/.AI.. 


5''7 


possible,  and  a  decision  ulliiuatcly  arrived  at 
which  satished  both  [)arties. 

'The  curious  position  of  rest  ado[)ted  by  ihc 
Dinkas  and  referred  to  by  most  travellers  is  well 
shown  in  the  preceding  photograph.  One  leg, 
generally  the  right,  is  raised  and  bent  until  the 
foot  rests  on  the  left  knee,  whilst  the  body  is 
balanced  on  the  straight  leg.  The  natives  often 
chose  au  ant-heap  to  rest  on,  as  it  affords  a  good 
view  of  the  country.  To  see  the  figure  of  a 
Dinka  in  this  position,  silhouetted  against  the 
skv,  reminds  one  of  some  strange  prehistoric- 
bird. 

It  will  be  seen  that  the  boys  in  this  photo, 
are  wearing  extraordinary  hats,  somewhat  re- 
sembling the  straw  cases  off  bottles.  They  are 
the  only  ones  of  this  kind  I  ever  met  with, 
rvlost  natives  are  fond  of  a  head-dress  of  some 


cessful.  Me  had  formed  a  post  at  Shanibc,  on 
the    Nile,    and    decided    upon    Runi'    '  a 

second.     This  lay  in  the  country  of  lb' 
a  warlike  tribe  who  afterwards  gave  i  ')f 

trouble.  Colonel  Sparkes  had  been  uiosi  hus- 
pitablv  received  by  the  Belgians  and  h:   '      "^  d 

for  the  time  being,  at  any  rate—  tht  cd 

question  of  the  boundary  line.  Game  had  been 
plentiful  and  water  scarce.  He  and  Captain 
Firrie  had  each  shot  an  elephant  and  Sparkes 
had  also  bagged  a  rhino.  .\Iajor  lioulnois  also 
returned  about  this  time  from  Dem  Zubier, 
having  done  a  big  march  and  vi.>^iled  many 
in)porlant  sheiks. 

He  had  left  a  few   men  at   Dem  Zubier  to 
form  a  station,  intending  to  send  the  remainder 


A    KINK   COLLKCIION    OK    HEADS    SECURED    NEAK    WAW 

From  a  Photo. 


kind,  and  I  was  immensely  surprised  to  see 
them  turn  newspapers  into  the  old-fashioned 
nur.sery  cocked  hat,  which  they  can  never  have 
seen  before.  One  such  hat  was  made  entirely 
out  of  an  advertisement  for  pojHilar  pills,  which 
it  stated  plainly  were  worth  a  guinea  a  box  \ 

Early  in  April  Colonel  Sparkes  returned  from 
this  eastern  patrol,  which  had  proved  very  sue- 


as  soon  as  he  could  get  sufficient  iran.sport. 
Up  to  this  point  roaii  reports  and  maps  had 
been  made  of  all  routes,  and  we  began  to  see 
whereabouts  our  various  stations  were  situated. 
The  last  photo-raph  reproduced  m  this  instal- 
ment shows  a  'collection  of  heads  of  animals 
shot  near  Waw,  including  the  most  comnu.n 
varieties. 


(To  be  continued.) 


^w-^:^^ 


An    amusing   story  of    Indian  "red  tape."     Eustace  was   a  telegraph   officer  who  was  temporarily  dis- 
charging   the   duties    of    a   superior.      In    his    dual    personality   he    mystified    callers,    wrote    letters  to 
himself,  and  gave  himself  a  reprimand  !     He  delegated  some  portion  of  his  duties  to  the  author,  whose 
attempts  to  carry  out  his   instructions  gave  rise  to  a  most  ridiculous  situation. 

he  enjoyed,  for  a  few  days,  a  higher  authority 
than  usual  that  I  learnt  he  was  capable  of 
carrying  his  scrupulousness  to  the  verge  of 
downright  absurdity — to  use  no  stronger  term. 
I  shared  his  office-room  proper,  sitting  at  a  table 
beside  his,  and  both  facing  the  archway  looking 
into  the  instrument  hall.  Alpin,  whose  superin- 
tendent's office  was  on  the  floor  above,  had,  in 
virtue  of  his  acting  directorship,  moved  to  Mr. 
Blyster's  room  on  the  still  higher  story,  thus 
\acating  his  own  chamber  for  Eustace's  use. 
My  friend  oscillated  between  his  own  and 
Alpin's  office  like  a  veritable  pendulum,  and 
many  a  hearty  laugh  did  his  singulaiities  in  this 
respect  cause  me  during  that  memorable  week. 

"  Eustace,"  I  said  to  him,  while  in  his  own 
office  the  first  morning  of  his  two-horse  duties, 
"  I  want  to  go  and  see  the  Civil  v.  Military 
cricket  match  at  eleven." 

"The  superintendent  only  can  grant  informal 
leave,"  he  replied. 

"Well,  you  represent  Alpin  now  !  Say  'yes'; 
I'm  in  a  hurry." 

"  Write  a  demi-official  application,"  he 
answered,  gravely,  handing  me  a  docket  slip. 

"  Whom  to  ?  " 

"To  me — as  inspector  in  charge  of  the  signal 
office  and  town  lines  ;  I'll  forward  it." 

I  stared  in  astonishment  ;  then  wrote  as 
directed  and  placed  it  before  him. 


USTACE  was  inspector  in  charge  of 
the  Presidency  Signal  Office  and 
'J'own  Lines  ;  I  was  his  assistant  ;  and 
a  man  named  Alpin,  the  superinten- 
dent of  Presidency  Circle,  lorded  it 
as  '•  boss "  over  us  both.  There  was  a  yet 
higher  authority  in  the  person  of  a  certain  Mr. 
Blaster,  the  director  of  the  division,  far  too 
august  a  [)ersonage  for  Eustace  and  me  to  have 
much  to  do  with,  officially  or  socially. 

It  so  happened  that  Mr.  Biyster  went  away 
on  a  week's  leave,  having  issued  instructions 
that  Alpin  should  act  for  him,  while  Eustace 
undertook  his  —  Alpin's —  duties  of  superinten- 
dent in  addition  to  his  own  substantive  signal 
and  town  line  charge  ;  I,  the  writer,  to  remain 
as  I  was. 

Messrs.  Biyster  and  Alpin  were  departmental 
l)igwigs,  drawing  salaries  of  twelve  and  eight 
hundred  rupees  a  month  respectively.  They 
lived  together  in  the  suburbs  ;  whereas  Eustace 
and  I,  from  the  nature  of  our  appointments, 
had  to  occupy  quarters  in  the  telegraph  office. 
Out  of  official  harness  my  chum  was  a  right 
good  sort  ;  but  once  mounted  on  his  bureau- 
cratic stilts  there  was  no  getting  him  to  come 
down  again  till  the  day's  business  was  over.  In 
all  matters  relating  to  work  he  was  painfully 
punctilious;  I— among  others  — had  only  too 
good  reason  to  think   so  ;  but  it  was  not  until 


THE    ECCKXlRlcri  ll.S   ()]•    KL'SIACJ. 


569 


He  made  an  etidorsemeiit  on  ihe  back  and 
then  gave  nie  the  paper.  I  read  what  he  had 
written  : — 

"  Forwarded    to    the   Superintendent,    Presi- 
dency Circle,  for  favourable  consideration. 
"(Sd.)     T.  Eustace, 
"Inspector  in  charge  Presidency  Signal 
Office  and  Town  Lines." 

I  now  more  than  stared  ;  I  gasped.  Before 
I  could  make  any  remark  he  said,  "  Bring  tiiat 
to  me  when  I  go  up  to  the  superintendent's 
office." 

"What  for?"  I  asked,  more  in  a  fog  than 
ever. 

"  To  present  your  application  for  lL'a\  e  :  un- 
less you  prefer  sending  it  u[)." 

Policy  forbade  my  giving  vent  to  my  opinion 
of  such  goings-on.  The  fact  remained  that, 
however  hail-fellow-well-met  out  of  office,  he 
was  officially  my  immediate  superior,  and 
under  existing  circumstances  the  spirit  of 
sheer  "  cussedness  "  which  possessed  his  soul 
might  make  him  unpleasant  if  I  attempted 
expostulation  or  comment.  After  signing  some 
drafts  he  went  upstairs  to  Alpin's  office.  I 
followed,  and  gave  him  my  application.  He 
actually  read  it,  also  his  own  endorsement ;  and 
then  addressed  me  as  follows  :  "  The  inspector 
in  charge  of  Presidency  Signal  Office  and  Town 
Lines  forwards  for  my  favourable  consideration 
your  application  for  a  day's  informal  leave  ;  I 
sanction  it ;  the  order  will  be  made  out  in  due 
course  and  you  can  a\ail  yourself  thereof  in 
anticipation." 

He  was  perfectly  serious  ;  there  was  not  the 
quiver  of  a  muscle,  the  tremor  of  an  eyelid,  to 
denote  the  .slightest  sus()icion  that  he  was 
secretly  amusing  himself  at  my  expense ;  he 
was  in  sober  earnest.  I  saw  no  use  in  making 
any  rejoinder,  so  left  the  room. 

I  could  not  tell  what  oddities  he  had  been  up 
to  during  rny  absence  \  but  when  I  came  home, 
and  looked  into  the  instrument-room  before 
dmner,  I  noticed  a  general  air  of  sup[)ressed 
hilarity  among  the  signallers,  whereby  I  guessed 
they  had  been  enjoying  some  of  Eustace's  jack- 
in-the  box  eccentricities.  Of  course,  I  did  not 
ask  the  lads  for  ])articulars ;  but  for  all  my 
silence  I  am  afraid  they  saw  that  my  own 
features  wore  an  expression  of  sympathetic 
a|)preciation  of  the  universal  joke.  No  sooner 
had  I  joined  him  at  dinner  than  Eustace 
became  his  usual  self ;  but  he  steadily  repelled 
all  my  efforts  to  draw  him  out  on  the  subject  of 
his  grotescjue  performances  of  the  day. 

We  were  seated  together  the  next  morning  in 
the  inspector's  office  when  Antony,  the  English- 
speaking  di/ffadctr,  or  head  peon,  came  in  with 
a  card  and  presented  it  to  Eustace. 

Vol.  X.— 72. 


"  Mrs.  Clark,"  he  said,  glancing  at  the  paste- 
board. Antony  was  instructed  to  introduce  the 
visitor,  and  she  presently  entered  the  room— a 
portly,  handsome  woman,  somewiiat  out  of 
breath  from  the  climb  up  the  steps. 

"  I  wish  to  see  the  superintendent  ui  tele- 
graphs on  business,"  she  said,  regarding  us 
mquiringly  in  succession. 

"  Oh,"  observed  Eustace,  concernedly,  "  his 
office  is  on  the  second  floor,  madani.  Antony  !" 
he  bawled  to  the  duffadar,  "  conduct  this  lady 
to  the  superintendent's  office." 

Antony,  escorting  .Mrs.  Clark,  disappeared. 
I  wondered  what  was  coming. 

After  allowing  the  lady  sufficient  time  to 
negotiate  the  tedious  flight  of  steps  Eustace  left 
the  room  ;  I,  in  the  capacity  of  his  assistant, 
felt  bound  to  follow— I  wanted  to  see  the  matter 
out.  We  entered  Alpin's  office  on  each  other's 
heels  and  found  the  stout  Mrs.  Clark  seated  in 
a  chair,  breathlessly  fanning  herself.  Eustace 
got  into  position  behind  the  table,  while  I 
looked  on,  an  interested  spectator. 

"  What  can  I  do  for  you,  madam  ? "  he 
suavely  inquired. 

"  You  can  exi^edite  the  appearance  of  the 
superintendent,"  she  replied,  smilingly;  "I  am 
rather  pressed  for  time." 

"  /  am  the  superintendent,"  rejoined  my 
chum,  more  suavely  still. 

Mrs.  Clark  opened  her  eyes.  "  Then  why 
could  you  not  have  listened  to  me  downstairs, 
instead  of  sending  me  toiling  all  the  way  up 
here?"  she  inquired,  in  a  tone  of  very  natural 
amazement. 

"  Because  you  asked  for  the  superintendent  ; 
this  is  his  office.  Pray  command  me." 
•  "Oh,  I  see,"  she  observed,  musingly.  "  ^^■ell, 
I  have  come  about  this  message,''  taking  a  paper 
from  her  pocket  and  referring  to  it.  "  It  was 
handed  in  at  Bombay  yesterday  noon,  received 
here  at  two  o'clock,  and  not  delivered  at  my 
house  till  fifteen  minutes  past  four  in  the  even- 
ing. I  wish  to  complain  of  the  delay."  As  she 
concluded  she  tendered  the  message. 

"  I  much  regret  the  delay,  madam,"  said 
Eustace,  without  taking  the  j)aper  from  her, 
"  but  the  investigation  of  a  matter  such  as  this 
is  not  in  my  province  ;  you  should  see  the 
in.spector  in  charge  of  the  signal  office  and  town 
lines.  I  will  have  you  conducted  to  his  office 
at  once.     Antony  !  " 

"Yes,  sar  !  "  e.xclaimed  the  ever-ready  duffa- 
diir,  entering  by  a  siile  door. 

"  Show  this  lady  downstairs  to  the  in.s|)cctor's 
office." 

Another  move,  1  going  first  this  time,  anxious 
to  witness  the  ////(/A' .■  then  came  .Antony  and 
the    lady.      By  the  tinie   Mrs.  Clark  arrived   I 


570 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    M.\(i.\ZIXE. 


was   seated 
happening. 
Presently 
ensconced 


at    my    table    as 


if 


nothing 


was 


in    came  Eustace,    who   forthwith 
himself    in    his    office    chair    and 
repeated  the  same  formula,  "  What  can  I  do  for 
you,  madam  ?  " 

The  lady's  jaw  dropped,  and  she  regarded 
her  interlocutor  with  a  look  of  incipient  alarm. 
"  I  do  not  quite  understand  you,  sir.  Why 
could  you  not  have  attended  to  my  complaint 
upstairs  ?  " 

"  Because  the  superintendent,  in  who.se  office 
you  made  it,  has  nothing  to  do  with  cases  of  the 
kind  ;  so  he  referred  you  to  the 
proper    authority,     the     inspector 
in  charge  of " 

"That  he  didn't!"  she  inter- 
rupted, hotly.  "  You  are  the 
only  person  I  spoke  to  upstairs." 

"Nevertheless,  you  were  speak- 
ing to  the  superintendent." 

"  Namely,  yourself,  I  suppose. 
^Vell,  you  sent  me  downstairs 
again  to  interview  the  inspector  ; 
where  is  he  ?  " 

"  Before  you,  madam— at  your 
service." 

She  gazed  at  him,  stupefied, 
murmuring  something  which  the 
formation  of  her  lips  plainly  trans- 
lated as  the  word  "  mad." 

"  I ;////.?/' credit  my  own  senses," 
she  continued.  "  Surely  you  are 
one  and  the  same  man  ?  " 

"  I  am,"  he  replied,  gravely. 

"  I  first  saw  you  in  this  room, 
the  inspector's  room  ?  " 

"  You  did." 

"  Why,  then,  did  you  send  me 
trudging  up  to  the  superinten- 
dent's room  when  my  business 
was  witii  you,  as  it  turns  out  ?  " 

"  You  asked  for  the  superinten- 
dent. I  could  n(jt  take  upon  me  his 
business,  so  referred  you  to  him." 

"  Although  ivw  are  the  superin- 
tendent, apparently.   What  folly  !  " 

Eustace  merely  bowed,  quite 
unmoved  by  the  rebuke. 

"  Well,  then,"  continued  the 
lady,  "  having  ascertained  the 
nature  of   my   errand   while   we 


same  person.  Upstairs  I  am  superintendent  ; 
downstairs— here,  in  this  room — I  am  inspector, 
the  correct  authority  to  deal  with  your  comi)laint. 
Pray  command  me.  ' 

"  If  I  made  any  command  at  all  it  would  be 
to  command  you  to  march  off  to  the  lunatic 
asylum  I  "  exclaimed  the  lady  angrily,  and  giving 
Eustace  a  withering  look  she  flounced  out  of 
the  room. 

I  nearly  choked  with  laughter ;  Eustace's  face 
was  a  study. 

That  night  a  "  contact "  occurred  on  the  town 


WOUI.IJ    COMMAND    VOU    TO    MAIJCII    OKFTOTHE 

TIIK    l.AUV." 


I.U.NAIIC    ASVl.L'M  !      EXCI.AIMKO 


were   upstairs. 


W 


'y 


why   did   you   not    deal   with    it   there  ? 
send  me  downstairs--again  to  yourself?" 

"  In  order  to  fit  in  with  my  existing  dual 
individuality,  madam,"  ex|)lained  Eustace.  "I 
temporarily  represent  both  superintendent  and 
inspector.  I  (•ann<it  allow  their  several  duties 
to  clash,  although   conducted   by  one   and   the 


lines ;  and  as  they  had  been  giving  trouble 
lately  Eustace  resolved  to  take  advantage  of 
Mr.  Blyster's  absence  and  go  out  himself  with 
a  working  party  to  release  the  "  contact,"  and 
at  the  same  time  remedy  anything  else  that 
might  be  wrong.  Before  turning  in  he  wrote 
an  official  iiller  — in  his  capacity  of  superin- 
tendent—making known   the  inspector's    inten- 


THE    ECCEN'IRK  Tl'IKS    Ol'    KUSTACE. 


57« 


tion  of  going  out  on  the  morrow,  and  during 
that  gcnllrman's  absence  delegating  to  me  his 
duplex  duties- -those  of  superintendent  and 
inspector.  The  next  day,  therefore,  I  was 
clothed 'with  triple  functions  :  a  species  o^  triad 
or  trinity ;  {ox  Eustace  in  his  letter  had  saitl 
that  my  tem|)orary  assumption  of  his  duties  was 
not  to  prejudice  my  own  work. 

He  left  at  six,  and  I  knew  enough  of  what 
he  had  in  store  to  feel  confident  tliat  he  would 
not  be  back  before  nightfall  ;  so  I  made  up  my 
mind  to  carry  on  his  little  game  and  have  some 
fun  out  of  it,  too.  I  had  no  idea,  however,  of 
trudging  to  and  from  the  superintendent's  office 
and  making  others  do  likewise.  I  therefore 
summoned  Antony,  and  had  a  spare  table 
l)rought  in  and  placed  in  line  with  the  two 
already  there.  This  done,  I  daubed  on  three 
large  cards. the  words  : — 

"Superintendent  Presidency  Circle." 

"  Inspector  Presidency  Signal     Office  and 

Town  Lines." 
"  Assistant  to  the  Inspector." 

With  these  cards  I  placarded  the  three  tables 
from  right  to  left,  and  took  my  place  at  the 
lowest — my  own.  The  effect  of  these  measures 
on  the  signalling  staff  was  distinctly  exhilarating, 
for  frequent  explosions  of  irre[)ressible  mirth 
emanating  from  beyond  the  dividing  archway 
taxed  my  own  powers  of  command. 

I  was  seated  at  the  superintendent's  table 
signing  some  papers  when  a  gentleman  came 
in  to  ascertain  the  message  rate  to  Ontario.  I 
immediately  skipped  to  the  inspector's  table, 
much  to  the  visitor's  surprise,  and  gave  the 
necessary  information.  While  there  the  head 
signaller  brought  me  the  log-book.  It  recorded 
the  fact  of  Signaller  Sullivan  having  slept  on 
watch  during  the  previous  night — the  most 
important  night  in  the  week.  I  investigated 
the  case,  wrote  my  recommendation  in  the 
margin,  and  told  the  head  signaller  to  take  the 
log-book,  together  with  the  delinquent,  to 
the  superintendent  for  orders — indicating  the 
table  to  niy  right.  Head  signaller  and  delin- 
fjuent  —  both  more  or  less  suffering  from 
smothered  hysterics — moved  as  ordered,  while 
I  jumped  sideways  into  the  superintendent's 
chair,  and  with  the  most  profound  gravity  asked 
what  they  wanted.  Head  signaller,  with  a 
broad  grin  on  his  face,  again  pointed  out  the 
entry  ;  delinquent,  imagining  that  under  the 
existing  state  of  affairs  he  would  get  off  lightly, 
grinned  too ;  but  when  I  pronounced  judg- 
ment-three rupees  fine  and  extra  night  duty 
for  a  week  —  Master  Sullivan  set  up  a  most 
lugubrious  howl.  I  intended  to  frighten  him — 
nothing  more,  for  he  was  a  well  behaved  lad. 

"  Look   here  !  "  I  said,  shari)ly.      "  Stop  that 


row  and  listen  tu  ine.      This  is  your  first  offence 
of  the  kind,  isn't  it  ?"' 

''  I'irst  offence  of  any  kind,  sir,'  sobbed  tht- 
boy,  regarding  mc  beseechingly  through  his  tears. 

"  In  whose  watch  did  he  sleep,  Ryal  •'  1 
in(|uired  of  the  head  signaller.  Eustace  and  1 
always  divided  China  Mail  nights  between  us. 

During  Mr. — Mr. — Herv— during  your " 

stammered  Ryal,  at  a  loss  how  to  individualize 
me. 

"During  Mr.  Hervey's  watch,  was  it?"  I 
remarked,  solemnly.  "  Now,  look  here,  Sulli- 
van," I  added,  "go  to  Mr.  Hervey  at  that  table 
there  " — pointing  to  the  farthest — "  ask  his 
pardon,  and  I  dare  say  he  will  intercede  for 
you." 

Sullivan,  now  thoroughly  alarmed,  with  all 
the  mirth  frightened  out  of  him,  straightway  ran 
off  to  my  table  and  set  to  apostrophizing  my 
empty  chair  in  a  loud  blubber  I 

"  Here  1  "  I  sliouted,  essaying  to  get  to  my 
own  table.     "  Hold  on  !     Let  me " 

But  it  was  too  farcical  ;  I  sank  back  in  my 
seat  and  fairly  roared.  'J'he  whole  signalling 
staff,  who  by  now  had  congregated  under  the 
archway,  lost  all  control  and  bubbled  with 
merriment.  The  disturbance  abruptly  ceased, 
however,  as  the  outer  door  opened  and  in 
walked  Mr.  Alpin,  director /rr?  tern. 

"  Halloa  :  "  he  ejaculated  ;  "  what's  all  this?" 

Head  signaller,  delincjuent,  and  staff  slunk 
off  to  instruments  and  desks,  leaving  me  to 
"  face  the  music  "  alone.  I  took  Alpin  by  the 
arm  into  our  private  room  and  there  explained 
the  whole  thing.  I  then  gave  him  Eustaces 
letter  of  instructions  to  peruse.  He  had  suffi- 
cient a[)preciation  of  the  ridiculous  to  abstain 
from  making  a  fuss  beyond  telling  me  not  to 
allow  the  signallers  to  desert  their  posts  in  the 
manner  he  had  just  witnessed.  "  As  for 
Eustace,"  he  said,  "  I  think  his  brain  must 
be  softening;  he  grows  daily  more  inclined  to 
split  straws  and  go  in  for  unnece.s.sary  corre- 
spondence about  trifles;  I  must  get  Mr.  Hlyster 
to  recommend  him  a  long  furlough  home.  I5ut 
what  are  those  placards  ?  "'  he  asked,  nn  return- 
ing to  the  office. 

"Well,"  I  replied,  sealm-  iunmh  .h  die  right- 
hand  table,  "  here  I  am  you  and  Eustace." 

"  I  see  ;  well  ?  " 

"U'ell,"  shifting  to  the  centre  table,  "here 
I'm  mvselfand  luistace.'' 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!"  he  laughed.  "And  the 
third?" 

"  Here  I  nm  myself  solely,"  I  explained,  join- 
ing in  Alpin's  merriment  as  I  plump«(l  down 
into  my  own  chair  |)ropei 

"  Poor  luistace,  he's  nuui  .  i  iieard  him 
mutter  as  he  went  out. 


572 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


mm 


'•  1   SANK   BACK    IN    MY   SEAT   AND    FAIKI.Y    ROARED. 

During  the  remainder  of  that  memorable 
week  Eustace  seemed  worried  and  preoccupied; 
something  in  the  course  of  his  inspection  of 
the  Hnes  had  upset  him.  A  large  party  was 
engaged  doing  the  repairs,  and  he  himself  rode 
out  several  times  to  Lat  Bagh,  the  limit  of 
his  charge.  But  try  as  I  did  I  could  not  per- 
suade him  to  confide  his  trouble  to  me.  I  knew 
that  he  had  not  seen  to  the  lines  as  fretjuently 
as  he  ought,  and  I  inferred  that  he  had  found 
them  in  a  bad  condition — one  of  the  results 
Ijeing  the  "contact"  aforesaid. 

In  due  course  Mr.  Blyster  returned,  Alpin 
reverted  to  his  own  appointment,  and  my  chum 
was  relieved  of  his  extra  responsibilities. 

A  day  or  so  afterwards  I  was  called  for  by 
Alpin.  "  Read  that,"  he  said,  tossing  an  official 
letter  across  to  me.      I  read  :  — 

••  From  'V.  ICustace,  Esq.,  Superintendent 
I'residency  Circle. 

"To  T.  Eustace,  Esq.,  Inspector  in  charge 
I'residency  .Signal  Office  and  Town  Lines. 

".Sik,  —  I  have  the  honour  to  express  my  un- 
qualified dissatisfaction  with  the  state  of  the 
town  lines,  as  inspected  by  me  on  the  12th 
inst.  ;  their  condition  is  disgraceful,  and  I  now 
direct  that  you  take  immediate  steps  towards 
thoroughly  improving  the  lines  from  end  to  end. 
I  further  call  on  you  to  explain  how  you  per- 
mitted this  important  part  of  your  charge  to  fall 


into  so  disrepu- 
table a  state. 

"  I  have  the 
honour,  etc., 

"T.  Eustace, 
"Superintendent 
Presidency 
Circle." 

"  It's  a  wigging 
from  himself  to 
himself  !  "  I  said, 
aghast. 

"Exactly!" 
laughed  Alpin. 
"Now  read  this," 
handing  me  a 
second  letter, 
which  ran  as 
follows : — 

"From    T. 
Eustace,    Esq., 
Inspector    in    charge    Presidency 
Signal  Office  and  Town  Lines. 

"  To  T.  F^ustace,  Esq.,  Superin- 
tendent Presidency  Circle. 
"Sir, — With  reference   to  your  letter  of  the 
15th   inst.,    I    have   the    honour    to    report  that 
thorough  repairs  to  the  town   lines  were  com- 
pleted to-day. 

"  (2)  I  have  no  ex[)lanation  to  offer,  as  called 
for  by  you.  I  acknowledge  that  I  have  been 
very  remiss,  for  which  I  express  my  sincere 
regret,  coupled  with  a  promise  to  be  more 
careful  f(jr  the  future. 

"  I  have  the  honour,  etc., 
"T.  Eustace, 
"  Inspector  in  charge  Presidency  Signal 
Office  and  Town  Lines." 
He   had  written  an  apology  from   himself  to 
himself ! 

The  only  [)lausible  theory  for  Eustace's  ex- 
traordinary conduct  that  I  can  offer  is  that  his 
unexpected  elevation  for  a  week  to  the  superin- 
tendentship,  acting  on  a  brain  already  too  finely 
strung  with  regard  to  official  matters  and 
routine,  induced  a  temporary  aberration  of 
intellect,  which  might  or  might  not  have 
developed  graver  symptoms  had  it  been  given 
scope.  As  it  was,  unfortunately  for  Eustace, 
the  authorities  did  not  lose  sight  of  this  incident 
in  his  career  ;  for  though  he  was  otherwise  a 
good  telegraph  officer,  and  possessed  some 
induential  interest,  he  did  not  rise  to  any 
appreciable  degree  and  resigned  the  service 
before  his  aue  limit  had  arrived. 


The  author  is  one  of  the  only  two  or  three  Englishmen  who  have  ever  visited  the  Russian 
prison-island  of  Sakhalin,  which  numbers  no  fewer  than  eight  thousand  murderers  among  its  small 
population  !     Mr.  Hawes  paints  a  most  impressive  picture  of  the  terrible  life   led  by  the  convicts  in 

this  grim  land  of  despair  and  desolation. 


1'  all  the  penal  settlements  in  Siberia 
the  Island  of  Sakhalin  has  the  worst 
reputation.  This  is  not  surprising 
when  we  remember  its  great  distance 
fnjm  the  central  administration  and 
that  it  is  the  prison-island  to  which  all  the  worst 
criminals  are  sent.  There  are  probably  not  a 
dozen  free-born  individuals  outside  of  the  con- 
victs, ex-convicts,  their  wives  and  children,  and 
the  officials  and  native  tribes.  On  January  ist, 
1898,  there  were  on  the  island  22,167  convicts 
and  ex-convicts.  Of  these,  7,080  were  engaged 
in  hard  labour,  and  of  this  number  alone  no 
fewer  than  2,836  were  convicted  of  murder,  so 
that  out  of  the  total  number  of  convicts  and 
ex-convicts  a  moderate  estimate  would  give  8,000 
as  murderers  ! 

Of  the  2,836  murderers  the  large  propor- 
tion of  634  were  women.  Perhaps  this  is  to 
be  explained  by  the  brutality  of  husbands  under 
the  influence  of  drink  and  i)assion,  for  many  of 
these  women  had  stabbed  or  poisoned  tlieir 
partners  in  life.  It  is  not  surprising,  therefore, 
that  Sakhalin  is  a  name  not  to  be  mentioned  in 
St.  Petersliurg.  To  do  so  is  a  greater y(f//.v /(/i" 
than  to  talk  of  Botany  Bay  in  Sydney.  But 
bad  as  things  were  reported  to  be,  I  was  fully 
aware  that  great  strides  had  been  made  in  the 
reform  of  prisons  and  prison  management  since 


the  time  when  Mr.  George  Kennan  visited  them 
on  the  mainland  in  1885,  but  I  thought  it 
extremely  probable  that  the  footsteps  of  reform 
had  lagged  behind  the  farther  east  one  tracked 
them,  and  that  on  Sakhalin — if  one  could  only 
get  there  —  the  condition  of  affairs  would  reflect 
the  state  of  things  that  existed  on  the  mainland 
ten  years  ago.  And  so  I  found  it.  No  Knglish- 
man,  with  the  exception  of  Mr.  de  NVindt,  who 
paid  a  flying  visit  to  the  island  in  1896,  when 
his  ship  called,  had  visited  the  prisons,  anil 
none  had  ever  penetrated  into  the  far  interior. 
Another  Englishman  was  wrecked  off  the  ex- 
treme south  coast,  at  Korsakovsk,  ten  years 
ago,  but  his  story  of  adventure  among  the  natives 
was  discredited  to  me  by  Russians  who  were 
living  there  at  the  time. 

After  sumlry  adventures  and  many  difllicullies 
overcome  I  succeeded  in  getting  away  from 
Nikolaevsk,  which  is  situateil  on  the  n  '  '  1 
near  the  moutli  of  the  River  Anuir,  to  llit  ;. 

At  the  very  last  moment  I  was  pacing  the  deck 
of  a  tramp  steamer  which  stood  in  about  two 
miles  from  the  siiore,  and  the  captain  was 
signalling  again  ami  again.  He  despaired  of 
being  able  to  land  me,  though  he  good-naturedly 
delayed,  and  at  length  a  tiny  tug.  used  for 
dragging  lighters  loaded  with  convicts,  put  out, 
and  to  my  surprise   I  was  allowed  to  board  it ; 


574 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


but  no  sooner  had  I  ascended  the  steps  of  the 
wooden  jetty  than  a  military  officer  stepped  for- 
ward and  demanded  my  business.  To  him  I 
made  reply  in  the  scantiest  of  Russian  that  I 
had  a  letter  of  introduction  to  an  ex-convict 
merchant.  His  was  a  strange  and  sad  story, 
for  in  early  days  he  had  been  heir  to  large 
estates,  through  which  the  traveller  from  Berlin 
to  St.  Petersburg  passes.  The  only  answer 
I  received  was  that  the  e.x-convict  merchant 
was  now  at  the  coal  -  mines  and  would  not 
return  for  another  twenty-four  hours,  and  that 
I  must  remain  there  in  custody.  I  looked 
around  the  log-built  room  and  thought  I  had 
slept  in  much  worse  places  than  that ;  then  I 
went  to  the  door,  but  was  stopped  by  a  sentry, 
of  whom,  however,  I  demanded  my  baggage. 
From  the  window  I  could  see  my  ship  preparing 


Their  hopes,  like  the  sun,  sink  sooner  or  later 
into  the  dark  waters  of  utter  despair.* 

I  had  come  to  study  the  wild  tribes  on  the 
island  as  well  as  the  working  of  the  penal 
system,  so  that  putting  the  former  purpose  to 
the  front  and  by  the  help  of  an  exiled  nobleman 
and  a  drunken  merchant  (I)  I  was  allowed 
eventually  to  remain  at  large  under  surveillance. 

Some  weeks  later  I  shared  the  log-house  of  a 
petty  official  engaged  on  the  jetty,  and  so  was 
able  to  wend  my  way  to  the  place  of  my  late 
detention  to  watch  the  batches  of  convicts 
arriving.  One  lot  from  Siberia  had  tramped 
the  t\\o  thousand  and  seventy-five  miles  from 
Nertchensk  to  Nikolaevsk,  with  an  occasional 
lift  from  a  steamer,  and  the  journey  had  occu- 
pied them  three  months.  * 

I  know  what  it  is  to  have  had   to  struggle  for 


hioiii  a\ 


nil-;  AKKIVAL  OF  A  HATCH  OF  MANACLED  MUKDEKEKS  AT  THE  ISLAM). 


I  /  'hotel. 


to  leave,  and  in  this  lay  my  great  hope  ;  for 
although  the  authorities  might  lock  me  up  they 
would  not  be  able  to  send  me  away  for  some 
time. 

Here  I  was  a  prisoner,  but  how  enviable  was 
my  lot  to  that  of  those  who  had  to  spend  the 
remainder  of  their  lives  on  the  island.  As  I 
stood  looking  out  to  sea  the  sun  was  setting 
behind  a  fiery-red  cloud-bank.  To  me  it  pic- 
tured the  passionate  longing  of  those  exiles 
whose  eyes  were  straining  ever  westward  to  the 
land  of  the  sunset,  to  the  homeland,  the  land  of 
friends  and  loved  ones,  so  long  ago  left  behind. 


a  bare  bench  in  a  fourth-class  Russian  railway 
carriage  whereon  to  sit  and  try  to  sleep  at  night, 
and  this  was  my  home  for  a  couple  of  weeks 
through  a  frozen  country.  But  what  was  this  to 
the  lot  of  those  poor  convicts  who,  hungry  and 
weary  after  a  long  day's  march,  failed  in  the 
wild  scramble  to  obtain  one  of  the  miserable 
plank  resting-places  allotted  them,  and  had  to 
lie  on  the   filthy  floor.      Even   there  a  stronger 

•  Speaking  of  tlie  Sakhalin  convicts  in  our  issue  for  July,  looz, 
Mr.  Foster  Fraser  says:  "They  are  dead  to  the  work!  ;  their 
na  iirs  are  taken  aw.iy  and  a  n  imSer  giv  n  them.  They  are  never 
a'lowed  any  coniinunic.iiion  witli  relatives,  and  when  they  die  their 
friends  are  not  even  informed  of  the  occurrence-" 


'I'Hi-:   ISLAND   ()i    ML  ki)i:i<i:rs. 


3/D 


neighbour  often  crushed  them,  for  the  most 
brutal  tongue,  the  hardest  fist,  got  the  bi;st 
place,  and  the  timid  and  weak  went  to  the  wall 
— or  the  floor.  Such  is  the  description  we  have 
heard  in  the  past.  Is  it  true  to-day  ?  In  the 
main — no  ;  but  in  my  experience — yes  I 

P'or  at  Nikolaevsk,  when  I  was  there,  special 
causes  were  producing,  let  us  hope,  exceptional 
conditions.  The  Imperial  ukase  abolishing  de- 
portation was  to  come  into  force  in  four  months' 
time  and  demanded  considerable  alterations 
in  the  prisons,  so  that  prisoners  intended  for 
Sakhalin  were  being  hurried  along  before  the 
frost  set  in  and  blocked  navigation. 

Three  hundred  miserable  convicts  were 
crowded  into  a  disused  old  prison,  described 
five  years  before  as  a  "  rickety  structure,  rotting 
with  age,  and  by  no  means  weather-proof." 

Since  1879,  however,  prisoners  from  Euro- 
pean Russia  bound  for  Sakhalin  have  been 
sent  from  Odessa  via  the  Red  Sea,  Singapore, 
Nagasaki,  and  Madivostock.  The  preceding 
photograph  shows  the  arrival  of  one  of  these 
batches  by  the  convict  steamer  Yaroslav*  I 
had  sauntered  down  to  the  jetty  one  day  on 
hearing  that  a  ship-load  of  convicts  had  arrived 
from  the  mainland.  It  was  bitterly  cold  and 
long  icicles  decked  the  rail  of  the  jetty.  A 
great  wooden  gateway,  guarded  by  a  sentinel, 
blocked  my  way,  and  here  a  group  of  convicts 
and  e.x-convicts  was  gathered  — ostensibly  for 
the  purpose  of  buying  stores  from  the  ship,  but 
in  many  cases  in  the  hope  of  smuggling  vodka 
ashore.  The  sentry  allowed  me  to  pass  to  go  to 
the  petty  Customs  officer  whose  rude  abode  I  was 

*  A  description  of  this  vessel  and  the  appliances  for  controliin;^ 
her  hum.iii  cargo  appealed  in  our  issue  for  May,  1902,  in  an 
.Tticle   written   by    Mr.    Hnri  y  <li!    Winilt,    F.  Rd.S.  —  Ki). 


sharing  at  the  time.      At  the  end  of  the  je       1 
found  the  prisoners  ranged  u[)  in  line  bet', 
of  soldiers.       They  were  dressed  in  un   .  ..         ! 
cotton  sb.irts  and  trousers,  with  socks — or  p 
of  cloth  wound  around  their  legs,  puttee  fashion 
— and  shoes.     Over  all  they  wore  the  "kh."  ' 
or  long,  ulster-like  frieze.     All  were  in  cl, 
and  at  their  feet  were  their  worldly  possessions 
—  small  bundles  and  kettles,  one  or  two  of  the 
latter   of     Tartar   shape.      Some    property   had 
been  missed  by  the  captain  of  the  ship  during 
the  voyage,  and  so  all  the  convicts  had  to  be 
searched  on   the  jetty.     Such   is  the  slackness 
and  laxity  of  the  officials  that  the  ship's  manifest, 
the  captain's  report,  and  the  check-over  or  roll- 
call  all   differed   as   to   the  correct   numlxr   r)f 
jonvicts,  the  figures  being  respectively  147,  1  im. 
and  137. 

If  accuracy  is  of  no  importance  neither  i.s 
time  an  object,  for  the  steamer  that  brought 
the  convicts  and  carried  the  mails  started  oft 
for  Korsakovsk,  in  the  south  of  the  island, 
only  to  discover  that  she  must  put  back  to 
the  mainland  for  two  sailors  left  on  shore  by 
mistake ;  and  when  I  arrived  on  the  jetty  that 
very  afternoon  I  learnt  that  when  leaving  for 
the  mainland  to  pick  up  these,  she  had  actually 
left  the  assistant  engineer  and  two  men  behind, 
and  so  would  again  have  to  put  in  at 
Alexandrovsk  !  On  the  following  day  between 
seven  and  eight  hundred  more  prisoners  arrived. 
The  roll-call  finished,  the  soldiers,  with  bayonets 
fixed,  took  up  their  positions,  and  then  a  sudden 
jjainful  clanking  of  chains  stru':k  on  my  ears  as 
the  woe-begone  column  moved  up  the  road  to 
the  [)rison. 

The  next  picture  is  taken  from  an  official 
publication,  and  shows  the  interior  of  the  chief 


lioin  a\ 


I  111-.     l.Sll-KKiK    I'l-       111!       Ml    ^ 


57^ 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MACiAZINE. 


iiud-r  i.oN(;-sr\TKNCi-;  co.wicis— tiiky  akf,  am.  muudekehs. 
J''ro)lt  a   /'lioto. 


prison,  that  at 
Alexandrov.sk.  In 
the  foreground  is 
what  is  called  the 
"  Reforrriatory '' 
prison,  in  which 
those  with  a  sen 
to  nee  of  four  to 
twelve  years  are 
kept,  and  behind 
the  farther  stock- 
ade is  the  worst 
prison,  where 
those  whose  sen- 
tence is  twelve 
years  or  upwards 
are  incarcerated, 
mostly  in  chains. 
The  photof;ra])h 
g  i  \'  e  n  above 
shows  three  of 
these  long 
sentence  convicts, 
all  murderers. 
One  degrading 
(orm    of    j)unish 


mcnt,  that  of  chaining  the  convict  to  a 
wheelbArrow,  which  is  never  detached 
either  by  day  or  night,  has  been 
abolished  on  the  mainland;  but  on 
Sakhalin  to-day  there  are  still  two  men 
who  are  undergoing  this  miserable 
punishment. 

I'ive  of  those  who  in  1896  were  thus 
chained,  and  whose  names  are  Cosulsky, 
Patschenko,  Schirokoloboff,  Ogourzoff, 
and  a  Caucasian,  are  seen  in  the  next 
two  illustrations.  All  represented  in 
these  two  photographs  are  in  chains 
and  are  murderers,  both  men  and 
women.  Those  in  the  first  picture  were 
confined  in  the  prison  of  Dui,  and 
those  in  the  second  at  Alexandrovsk. 
In  the  latter  picture  the  first  man  on 
the  left  with  the  wheelbarrow  had  pre- 
viously made  his  escape  twice.  This 
form  of  punishment,  the  officials  say,  is 
necessary  to  keep  them  from  escaping. 
The  clean  shaving  of  half  the  head  is 
also  intended  to  render  escape  more 
difficult  and  identification  easier. 

The  authorities  at  Alexandrovsk  ex- 
pressed surprise  if  ten  days  elapsed 
without  any  escapes,  and  I  ventured  to 
ask  the  chief  of  the  Dui  Prison  how  such 
a  state  of  things  was  allowed  to  exist. 
He     replied  :    "  We    haven't    sufficient 


/•  roiii  a  I 


...    11    .1-,..! U/l.lsl-.l;^    -IIAl.l-      I  111-.    lll.AlJ    1.- 

lUliNTII--lCAT10N   EASIER   IN    CASE  OF   ESCAPE. 


11 1 1:     ISI,ANI)    OK    MUKDKRIiRS. 


I  I 


soldiers  ;  it  is  a  question  of  Lxpcnsu."  "  Hut," 
1  said,  "you  sentence  the  sentries  to  the 
penal  regiment  if  escapes  occur.  On  the  one 
hand  you  say  they  are  not  sufticient  ;  on  the 
other  liand  you  punisli  theni  for  not  doing  what 
is  admittedly  beyond  their  power."  Of  course, 
he  could  answer  nothing.  The  question  of 
expense  has  always  had  a  great  deal  to  do  with 
the  dnrk  side  of  Siberian  penal  administration  ; 
but  life  might  be  secure  from  these  escaped  and 
desperate  convicts  if  only  the  officials  would 
rouse  up  and  not  spend  most  of  their  time 
gambling,  drinking,  and  worse. 

Only   one  hundred  out    of   the   six  hundred 


Us  through  the  loic^l  mlo  wuilIi  lucie  .six  con- 
victs had  plunged.  There  were  two  roads  before 
us,  one  traversing  the  forest  and  the  other  being 
merely  the  sandy  beach.  'I'he  latter  was  im- 
passable at  high  tide,  but  had  this  advantage, 
that  one  had  only  to  defend  oneself  from  human — 
or,  rather,  inhuman — assailants  on  one  side.  An 
ex-convict  who  iiad  given  us  hospitality  ' 
us  not  to  take  this  forest  road.  Now,  ot 
there  is  freemasonry  among  the  convicts  and 
ex-convicts,  and  while  he  told  us  that  they  were 
armed  with  guns  more  particulars  he  v.ould  not 
divulge.  Seeing  us  still  unpersuaded  he  backed 
up   his   statement   by  telling  us  how  the   post. 


Front  a\ 


CONVICTS   CHAINED   TO    WHEELBARKOWS— TllliV   AKE    NEVER    DETACHED   NIGHT   OR    DAV. 


U'hoto. 


convicts  in  the  worst  prison  were  being  sent  out 
to  do  hard  labour  in  the  mines  or  road-making  ; 
it  was  not  surprising,  therefore,  that  the  dreadful 
ennui  drove  some  of  the  remainder  into  risking 
attempts  at  flight.  The  night  to  choose  for  an 
escape  was  when  a  storm  was  raging.  It  was 
on  one  such  night  of  my  stay  that  six  in  the 
Alexatidrovsk  Testing  Prison,  undercover  of  the 
darkness  and  the  howling  storm,  lassoed  the 
tops  of  the  twenty-foot  stockade  and,  clambering 
over,  dro[)ped  down  and  successfully  evaded  the 
patrols.  The  storm  that  night  did  us  as  good  a 
turn  as  it  did  the  convicts,  for  returning  from  a 
seven  hundred  mile  journey,  mostly  accom- 
plished in  a  dug  out  canoe,  we  (my  interpreter 
and  I)  had  entered  on  our  last  stage  which  took 

Vol,  X.— 73. 


which  I  have  seen  leaving  Alexandrovsk,  twelve 
miles  distant,  carrying  beside  the  driver  one  armed 
official  and  two  soldiers  with  bayonets  fixed,  was 
held  up  on  this  road,  a  few  miles  out  of  .\lexan- 
drovsk.  So  we  determined  to  take  our  chances 
of  the  rising  tide  and  try  the  beach  route. 

we  had  just  heard  that  the  youth  who  livv. .: 

us  at  Alexandrovsk  had  been  murdered  on  the 
sands  for  the  sake  of  the  gun  he  carried. 

We  started  in  darkness  with  no  Inntern,  for 
that  would  have  riMulered  us  a  mark,  and  the 
wretched  tele;::ii  movetl  along  at  a  snail's  pace. 
We  sat  back  to  back,  revolvers  and  .' 
handy  in  our  bjlts  and  loaded  rifles  in 
We  had  instructions  from  the  police  to  fire  if  we 
should   see   any    moving  form.     Little,  indeed, 


S7B 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


could  we  make  out— though  we  could  imagine 
a  great  deal— as  we  peered  into  the  dark  forest 
on  our  way  to  the  beach.  We  had  dragged  on 
at  this  miserable  pace  for  about  a  mile  and  a 
half,  longing  for  a  /ro2/:a  with  its  galloping 
steeds,  when  suddenly  the  storm  burst  upon  us. 


alone,  but  heard  that  the  man  had  been  seen 
hovering  around  our  hut.  He  had  already  eight 
murders  to  his  credit ! 

It  is  almost  impossible  for  these  "  brodyagas  " 
(passportless  vagabonds)  to  get  away  from  the 
island.     From  the  prison  they  escape  into  the 


A    CO.NVICT   GANG    AT    WoKK    IN    TDK   l.U'EN. 


[I'/ioto. 


To  keep  our  guns  dry  and  be  ready  for  an 
attack  was  imjjossible,  and  I  confess  I  was  not 
sorry  to  be  compelled  to  take  refuse  in  the  luil 
of  a  convict,  which  the  liowling  of  dogs 
announced  to  be  near  by. 

It  is  not,  however,  only  fugitives  from  the 
worst  prison  who  commit  murder.  Walking 
towards  the  jetty  one  day  I  met  two  drunken 
men.  It  was  a  feast  day  and  they  were  com- 
[)anions  from  the  "lazaret";  one  of  them  in  his 
drunken  gocjd  temper  lurched  over  towards 
me  and  wislied  me  "  Zdravstvuete,  kak  vi 
pazhivaete?"  (Good  morning!  How  do  you 
do  ?)  The  ne,\t  evening  at  half-past  six  I  heard 
that  he  had  been  murdered  by  his  companion 
in  the  market-place  for  the  sake  of  seven  roui)les 
he  possessed !  On  the  same  road  a  man  passed 
me  one  morning  about  whom  I  noticed  nothing 
particular ;  but  my  interpreter  warned  me  of 
him.       I    was    about    to    return    to    the   town 


forests,  and  there  in  summer  they  manage  to 
exist  on  bilberries,  cranberries,  mushrooms,  and 
roots,  and  add  to  the  little  given  ihcin  by 
comrades,  whose  sentences  have  expired,  by 
waylaying  passers-by.  But  when  winter  comes 
on,  with  its  seven  feet  of  snow  and  a  tempera- 
ture occasionally  touching  forty  degrees  (Fahr.) 
below  zero,  with  no  food  to  be  obtained  and 
rags  for  clothing,  they  find  their  way  back  to 
the  prison.  After  giving  themselves  up  Ikic 
they  are  flogged  with  the  cruel  "  plet,"'  and 
received  back  again  with  an  additional  sentence. 

The  next  photograph  shows  the  instruments 
of  the  executioner— the  "  kobila,"  or  bench,  on 
which  the  convict  is  strapped  ;  the  birch-rods, 
which  are  dipped  in  hot  brine  ;  and  the  heavy 
three-thonged  "  plet,"  with  leaded  ends.  These 
are  the  instruments  in  use  at  Rikovsk  Prison. 

Another  photograph  shows  the  public 
executioner  at  Alexandrovsk,  (jolinsky  by  name. 


Illi:    ISI.WI)    OF    MURDLKERS. 


THE    EXECUTIONEKS    INSTKUMENTS — THE    BENCH    ON    WHICH    THE 
STRAPPED,    THE    BIRCH-RODS    DIPPED    IN     BRINE,    AND    THE    THREE 

From  a]  whip  with  leaded  ends. 


The  "  palatch/'  or  executioner,  is  chosen  from 
among  the  convicts  themselves.  Prisoners  who 
are  refractory  in  prison  are  birched,  but  some- 
times this  punishment  is  given  for  no  other 
reason  than  that  the  chief  of  the  prison,  of 
whom  it  would  be  difficult  to  say  anything  too 
bad,  happens  to  be  in  a  fit  of  ill-humour  when 
they  go  before  him  to  prefer  some  simple 
request.  My  own  interpreter,  himself  a  man 
of  rank,  told  me  that  in  common  with  all  the 
rest  of  the  convicts  and  political  exiles  he  paid 
tribute  money  in  the  shape  of  food  to  the 
executioner,  so  that,  should  he  be  ordered  the 
'"plet,"  the  leads  should  be  brought  down  on 
the  underside  of  the  board  and  not  on  his  bare 
body.  Corporal  punishment  for  women  has 
been  done  away  with  by  law  in  Russia,  but  in 
l-'ebruary  of  last  year  two  women  were  flogged 
with  bircii-rods  dipped  in  brine,  and  afterwards 
put  in  chains  for  refusing  to  obey  their  villainous 
overseers. 

Here  and  there  I  met  a  good-natured  ofticial, 
but  they  are  rare  and  tlieir  influence  is  very 
small,  for  it  is  not  to  the  interest  of  the  others 
to  allow  reforming  tendencies  to  have  play. 
To  give  them  their  due,  it  must  not  be  for- 
gotten that  their  surroundings  are  demoralizing. 
They  have  an  awful  class  of  convicts  to  deal 
with,  whom  their  own  injustice  and  brutality 
are  responsible  for  making  worse.  The  system 
allows  of  stages  of  im[)rovement  in  a  convict's 


VICTIM    IS 
■rHONGED 

{Photo. 


condiuoii,  and  if  well  behaved  he  may, 
during  the  latter  part  of  his  sentence, 
live  out  in  barracks  and  do  a  fixed 
amount  of  hard  labour.  All  this  allows 
the  miserable  convict  to  hope,  but 
there  is  another  side  to  the  picture 
which  takes  the  soul  out  of  most  of 
tiiem.  Few  convicts  ever  leave  this 
dreaded  isle  of  punishment.  They 
have  no  spirit  left  to  struggle  with 
Nature  in  the  swamps,  and  they  sink 
into  despair.  They  join  their  com- 
panions of  the  forest,  and  one  crime 
leads  to  another. 

The  soldiers,  plunging  as  far  as 
possible  into  the  dense  forests,  track 
these  outlaws  or  "  brodyagas."  We 
in  our  journeys  passed  small  parlies 
of  soldiers  on  the  trail.  The  (lilak 
natives  are  also  employed  to  hunt 
them  down,  and  one  of  these  (iilak 
overseers  had  shot  a  "  brodyaga  "'  two 
or  three  days  before  we  reached  the 
scene,  on  our  way  across  to  the 
Pacific  coast.  On  another  occasion 
we  were  in  time    to   rescue  a  convict 

who  had  been 
not  unnaturally 
mistaken  by 
the  Orotchon 
natives  for  a 
"  brodyaga." 
Hunted  down 
by  soldiers  and 
tracked  by 
natives,  with 
starvation  star- 
ing him  con- 
tinually in  the 
face,  the  "  bro- 
dyaga" lives  a 
most  precari- 
ous existence. 
Many  were  the 
times  that  I 
passed  his 
roughly-con- 
structed raft  by 
which  at  night 
he  steals  tli  \vn 
the  r  i  \ 
braving  the 
perils  of  b'-  ■'^- 
1  f  he  be  ca 
by  the  soldiers 
the  latter  often 
wreak    their 

GOLINSKV,    THK    KXH;tlli>NKH.    WITH  V  e   n   C  eB  tl  C  C 

TUB  TfeRKIULE    "  I'l.KT."  ®,   .  , 

Frcm»  Photo.  upon    Him    for 


58o 


THE    WIDE    WOREl)    ALIGAZINE. 


the  trouble  he  has  given 
them,  or  the  loss  of  one 
of  their  number.  Then  he 
is  mercilessly  beaten  and 
pounded  with  the  butt-end 
of  their  bayonets. 

Sometimes  the  alertness 
of  the  authorities  renders 
it  necessary  for  the  "  bro- 
dyagas "  to  go  far  afield, 
but  I  was  astonished  to 
find  traces  of  them  within 
less  than  twenty  miles  of 
the  farthest  spot  north  to 
which  any  white  man  has 
ever  penetrated  on  the  east 
coast.  Below  is  a  photo- 
graph of  what  I  found— a 
solitary  cross  in  an  illimit- 
able forest  waste.  This 
haunt  of  the  wild  reindeer 
must  have  given  shelter  to 
four  or  five  convicts.  No 
white  man  besides  my 
companion  and  myself 
had  ever  seen  this  cross 
before,  or  probably  since, 
written  clearly  for  us  to  read. 


ONE  OF  THE  NAllVE  TRACKERS  EMILOYED  TO  HUNT 

Front  d\        down  escaped  convicts.         {Photo. 


But  its   Story  was 
There  were  three 


place  of  one   who 


or  four,  at  least,  in  the 
party,  and  one  had  fallen 
ill,  and  must  have  lingered 
for  some  time.  Possibly 
for  that  reason  they  had 
chosen  this  out-of-the-way 
spot  for  a  camp.  Quite  a 
little  path  had  been  worn 
to  and  from  the  cross, 
and  there  were  bones  and 
antlers  of  several  reindeer. 
I  brought  away  with  me 
a  piece  of  one  of  these 
antlers  as  a  souvenir  of 
this  tragic  episode.  The 
end  was  clear ;  subjected 
to  endless  privations  and 
without  medical  aid,  the 
poor  convict  had  died  and 
been  buried  by  his  com- 
rades, and  they  had 
erected  a  cross — a  Russian 
cross,  with  its  second 
cross-piece  pointing  earth- 
wards and  skywards  —  to 
mark  the  final  resting- 
had   at   last   found   release 


from  the  terrible  Island  of  Murderers. 


THE   KINAt.    RRSTING-PI.ACE   OP   ONE   WHO    HAD   AT   LAST    FOUND   KELEASE    FROM    THE 

J'roina]  terrible  island  of  murderers."  [Photo. 


Sirn^^cr^ 


,  r .  _  >.KT^  ><c  o  ""p  La  I  n 


URING  a  residence  of  five  years  in 
the  West  I  naturally  experienced 
some  fairly  tough  times  in  en- 
deavouring to  support  myself  "  the 
best  ye  know,"  as  the  Yankees  say. 
Undoubtedly  the  hardest  trail  I  ever  took  was 
that  across  the  White  Plains  ;  and  this  is  how  it 
happened. 

In  the  early  part  of  1890  I  was  working  on 
the  Carrizoozo  Ranch  in  New  Mexico,  which 
was  owned  by  an  English  syndicate  and  bossed 
by  Jimmy  Alcock,  of  County  Wexford,  and 
possessing  thirty  thousand  head  of  cattle.  Four 
of  us  were  sent  off  to  meet  the  foreman  at 
El  Paso,  at  which  place  he  was  soon  due  with 
horses  for  the  spring  round-up.  (I  remember 
his  name  was  O.  B.  Scott,  an  old  Westward 
Ho  boy;  poor  fellow,  he  met  his  death  four 
years  later  at  Tulerosa.)  Our  party  consisted  of 
"Slim  Jake," a  Chicago  man  ;  Bob  Carson,  from 
U'yoming  ;  Enistache,  a  Mexican  ;  and  myself. 

After  an  uneventful  four  days'  trip  over  the 
plains  in  a  buck-board  waggon  we  came  in 
sight  of  the  green  trees  growing  on  the  banks  of 
the  Rio  (irande,  which  notified  the  presence  ot 
the  town  of  El  Paso,  situated  on   both  sides  of 


Bv  Captain  G.  des  Barres, 
RovAL  Irish  Rikle.s. 

Before  entering  His  Majesty's 
service  the  author  spent  some 
time  in  the  Western  States  of 
America.  Whilst  in  El  Paso, 
Texas,  he  joined  a  party  of  men 
who  were  engaged  in  smuggling 
horses  over  the  United  States 
frontier  from  Mexico.  The 
desperate  expedient  of  taking 
the  herd  across  the  terrible 
Llano  Estacado,  or  Staked 
Plains,  was  resolved  upon,  with 
the  result  that  the  whole  enter- 
prise came  to  grief,  many  of 
the  men  losing  their  lives  in 
those  awful  solitudes  of  salt 
and  sand,  whilst  others  were 
captured  and  shot. 


the  river,  the  two  parts  being  connected  by  a 
bridge.  The  American  portion  consists  of  a 
fine  little  modern  town,  while  across  the  water 
it  is  still  the  primitive  city  of  old.  There  is  a 
yarn  out  West  that  in  the  old  days  an  American 
dollar  was  worth  a  dollar  and  ten  cents  in  Mexican 
nioney,  while  a  Mexican  dollar  was  worth  a 
dollar  and  ten  cents  in  Yankee  currency.  The 
price  of  a  drink  being  ten  cents,  a  man  would 
walk  across  the  bridge  into  Mexico  with  an 
American  dollar,  get  a  drink  and  a  Mexican 
dollar,  and  then  would  recross,  get  another 
diink,  and  obtain  his  original  coin  ! 

On  arrixing  we  put  up"  at  a  wooden  hotel, 
handed  in  our  arms,  and  then  visited  the  local 
barber  to  get  into  shape.  In  the  evening  we 
patronized  the  Gem  Theatre  of  Varieties  and 
mingled  with  the  crowd.  The  show  was  about 
finished  when  a  long-haired  fellow  with  a  black 
sombrero,  who  had  apparently  been  sizing  me 
up  for  some  time,  came  over  to  me  and  started 
talking.  Finding  that  I  was  waiting  for  our 
foreman  and  likely  to  be  in  VA  Paso  for  some 
days,  he  suggested  that  I  should  join  in  a  "trail  " 
he  was  "  bossing,"  which  would  last  about  a 
week  or  so.  He  said  he  was  hunting  for  a  few 
men  and  that  there  was  a  bit  of  money  in  it. 
"Only  keep  your  slinger  (tongue)  still,"  he 
said,  "and  meet  me  in  the  morning  at   Doran's 


582 


THI-:    WIDE    WORLD     MAGAZINE. 


Corral/"  I  said  iiotliing  to  the  "boys,'"  but 
turned  up  at  the  appointed  hour.  I  found 
about  a  dozen  men  present,  and  among  them 
the  sly  Enistache,  with  whom  I  had  bunked  all 
night  without  hearing  a  word  of  the  affair  ;  he 
winked  at  me  and  looked  away. 

It  was  a  curious  crowd.  Tlicre  were  four 
Indians,  two  of  whom  I  recognised  as  Apaches  ; 
the  others  were  as  tough  a  set  as  one  could 
meet.  Each  man  wore  overalls,  blue  or 
brown,  top-boots,  and  a  flannel  or  buckskin 
shirt.  I  confess  to  feel- 
ing they  were  not  the 
kind  of  men  who  would 
be  sent  out  as  hired 
guests  to  a  -  tea  -  party, 
nor  was  my  confidence 
restored  when  the 
"  boss  "  (Bo  Canning  by 
name)  commenced  with 
something  like  this  :  — 

"  Pards,  this  yer's 
likely  to  be  a  hard  trip, 
lasting  ten  days  maybe  : 
the  pay  if  the  biz  goes 
through  will  be  fifty 
dollars  each  man,  but 
ye're  under  my  orders, 
and  if  I  say  it  ye're  got 
to  help  me  come  out 
top." 

I  had  been  long 
enough  in  the  West  to 
guess  that  something 
was  premeditated  against 
Uncle  Sam,  as  the  pay 
was  enormous— a  dollar 
a  day  with  "  chuck,"  or 
food,  being  the  usual 
figure.  However,  I  held 
my  "  slinger  "  while  Bo 
went  on  with  :  "All  of  you  have  got  Winchesters 
an'  guns  (six-shooters)  ;  ye  must  get  'munition, 
an'  we  start  to-night.  If  any  feller  cares  ter 
drop  out,  let  him  ;  I  nor  my  pards  ain't  against 
no  .man."  ' 

Now,  I  ask  anyone  if  it  was  likely  that  I,  a 
Britisher  and  sportsman,  twenty  years  of  age, 
with  sixty  dollars  in  the  world,  was  going  to 
stand  out  of  an  enterprise  which  promised  both 
excitement  and  money  ?  So  again  I  held  my 
"  slinger."  It  was  arranged  that  we  should  leave 
El  Paso  in  parlies  of  threes  and  fours,  fifteen 
in  all.  Enistache,  an  Indian,  and  myself  were 
to  go  together  and  work  down  to  Aldama,  north- 
east of  Chihuahua,  some  two  hundred  miles 
south.  We  were  to  take  no  notice  of  one 
another  there,  as  the  authorities  might  be  sus- 
picious at  the  presence  of  so  large  a  body  of 


THE   AUTHOR,    CAl'T.    G.    DES 

J'loin  a  Pkoto.  by  R.  //aii'ey, 


Strangers  in  their  town.  Luckily,  I  had  all  my 
wealth  with  me — the  sixty  dollars  aforemen- 
tioned— so  I  hunted  about  for  a  horse.  I 
found  a  "  greaser  "  from  San  Diego  who  had  a 
pacing  mare  to  sell.  She  was  roan  in  colour, 
standing  14.3  hands,  and  scaling  about  seven 
hundred  and  fifty  pounds,  so  that  for  an  animal 
of  her  height  she  was  fairly  thick-set.  I  give 
these  particulars  as  this  little  mare  was  destined 
to  save  my  life,  stronger  and  bigger  horses  going 
under.     She  was  a  sweet  little  thing,  with  a  long 

grey  mane  and  a  tail 
reaching  to  the  ground  ; 
very  shy,  yet  trustful  as 
a  child. 

My  supplies  consisted 
of  a  box  of  '44  cart- 
ridges, two  plugs  of 
tobacco,  matches  (an 
empty  pint  bottle,  which 
I  put  in  my  saddle- 
pocket),  some  flour, 
bacon,  and  coffee,  to- 
gether with  a  frying-pan 
and  tin  pot.  Enistache, 
with  less  than  thirty 
dollars,  raised  a  mean- 
looking,  big-hocked 
lump  of  a  pony  of 
Indian  breed.  Together 
we  "  pulled  out  "  of  the 
town  at  nightfall,  over- 
taking our  Indian  some 
two  miles  south  of  the 
river.  It  was  only  when 
on  the  jog  -  trot  that  I 
fully  realized  that  there 
might  be  something 
serious  in  view  ;  how- 
ever, I  meant  to  see 
the  business  through 
nothing  really  mattered, 
for  life  out  there  was  a  very  hard  struggle. 

l"he  Indian,  knowing  Chihuahua  well,  acted 
as  our  guide.  He  said  that  seven  men  had 
already  passed  him  going  south.  The  trip 
was  .slow  and  uninteresting,  and  does  not  need 
descri[)tion. 

We  reached  Aldama  on  the  noon  of  ihc  fitih 
day  and  put  up  at  White  Billy's.  It  is  a  ])0(;r, 
straggling  little  town.  Lynch  law  prevailed, 
which  meant  one  punishment  for  all  crimes. 
We  stayed  there  two  days,  during  which  I  cared 
for  my  little  "  Silvermanc,"  who  was  somewhat 
thin,  giving  her  oats  and  corn  and  continually 
rubbing  her  down. 

On  the  third  night  we  rode  out  towards  the 
west  to  a  place  called  Secco  Arroya,  and  after 
waiting  some  hours  took  over  a  herd  of  horses. 


BARRKS,    ROYAl.    IRISH    RII-I.ES. 

Kuitberley  Photographic  Stzidii> 

now,    and,    after    all, 


THK    SML'C.dl.liRS    Ol      llll.    ^lAKIlh     I'l.Al.NS. 


583 


Now  for  the  first  time  I  leariU  the  real  nature  of 
our  enterprise,  for  these  animals  were  to  be 
smuggled  over  into  United  States  territory. 
From  the  size  of  the  herd  I  should  think  there 
were  about  four  hundred  head,  but  to  this  day  I 
cannot  tell  who  were  the  men  who  handed  them 
over  to  us.  They  assisted  us  in  getting  the  herd 
spun  out,  one  man  going  ahead  as  a  "  pointer  '' 
and  the  herd  following  in  column,  thickening  into 
a  wedge-shape  at  the  tail,  where  the  lazy  and 
footsore  animals  stuck ;  but  by  dint  of  using 
our  blacksnakes,  or  long  leather  whips,  and 
quirts  we  pushed  them  on. 

I  was  riding  well  up  on  the  right,  and  when 
day  broke  failed  to  see  any  of  the  strangers  ; 
they  had  gone  as  mysteriously  as  they  had  come, 
and  only  our  own  men  now  jogged  along  with 
the  bunch.  We  halted 
some  hours  after  sun-up 
at  a  Mexican  ranch,  where 
we  watered  the  horses. 
As  there  was  no  grass  in 
the  place  four  of  us  took 
the  herd  on  while  the 
others  stayed  behind  for 
food.  Carrying  out  water 
in  empty  molasses  cans, 
we  made  a  fire  some  four 
miles  away  and  breakfasted 
on  bacon,  coffee,  and  fried 
tortillas.  The  horses  hav- 
ing fed  and  rested  all  day, 
we  returned  with  them  to 
water  in  the  evening  and 
then  struck  out  once  more 
in  an  easterly  direction. 

On  the  third  day  no 
one  seemed  to  know  where 
we  were.  There  were  no 
ranches  or  inhabitants  to 
be  seen,  and  once,  finding 
no  water  for  thirty  -  two 
hours,  we  lost  about  thirty 
head  through  weakness. 
The  horses  were  well 
knocked  up  and  straggling 
over   some    miles    of 

ground,  when  we  finally  struck  a  river  and 
crossed.  Hard  work  it  was,  too,  the  horses 
sticking  up  to  their  stomachs  in  the  water  and 
refusing  to  move.  Opinion  was  divided  as  to 
"iir  whereabouts.  Some  said  it  was  the  Rio 
(iraiide,  others  that  it  was  too  small  and  must 
be  the  Rio  de  Los  Conchas  ;  while  an  Indian 
said  we  were  off  to  the  north,  near  Tres 
Castillos.  I  only  knew  we  had  been  going 
north,  as  each  morning  the  sun  came  up  on  the 
riglu,  but  whether  we  were  moving  north-west  or 


THE   SADUI.E    LSliD     IIY   CAl'T.    DKS    BARRES     DL'Rl.VG     HIS 
RIDE   THROUGH    THE   STAKED    PLAINS. 

From  a  Photo. 


carries  a  compass.  If,  however,  we  were  on 
United  States  soil,  it  would  be  necessary  to 
move  on  at  once  in  order  to  avoid  the 
Rangers  patrolling  tiie  river.  Wc  accordingly 
set  off,  while  men  went  out  on  all  sides  to 
scout,  a  fesv  remaining  to  take  the  horses  inland 
to  feed. 

I  gathered  from  the  talk  that  unless  the 
Rangers  showed  up  in  force  we  were  to  keep 
them  off,  as  they  must  be  some  days  from  a 
station  and  consecjuently  without  reinforce- 
ments. This  was  undoubtedly  the  meaning  of 
seeing  Bo  "come  out  top."'  I  fully  realized  what 
this  meant  if  we  were  caught  — ten  years  in  the 
penitentiary  — and  needless  to  say  that,  with  the 
others,  I  was  ready  to  object  down  to  my  last 
cartridge  to  giving  up  so  many  years  of  my  life. 

The  horses  having  been 
brought  back  in  the  even- 
ing and  the  scouts  having 
returned  without  sighting 
anything  a  council  was 
held.  As  is  usual  in  the 
^^'est  the  talking  was  half 
in  English  and  half  in 
Mexican.  It  was  agreed 
to  move  to  the  north-east, 
thus  escaping  the  alkali 
desert  which  lay  inland  of 
the  Rio  Grande,  for  we 
had  agreed  that  this  river 
must  be  it.  There  were 
dissentients  to  this  course, 
while  I  heard  the  dreaded 
words  "  mui  poco  awa " 
(very  little  water)  men- 
tioned more  than  once. 

It  was  a  curious  sight, 
that  council,  and  one  that 
will  ever  be  implanted  in 
n)y  memory.  The  night 
was  fine,  starry,  and  clear ; 
the  river  dragged  lazily 
along,  looking  like  thick 
black  oil  ;  on  the  sand  at 
the  foot  of  the  bluffs  wrr<- 
gathered  the  horsenitu, 
talking  and  gesticulating,  while  up  and  down 
the  river  wandered  the  poor  brutes  who  nc\(i 
drank  again.  I  filled  my  molasses  can  aiul 
bottle  with  water,  took  a  good  drink,  and  then 
bit  off  a  piece  of  "  Climax  plug,"  for  I  knew  full 
well  what  was  ahead  now.  I  had  iieen  on  the 
terrible  Llano  Estacado  (Staked  Plains)  of 
Texas,  and  I  fully  believed  we  were  unknow- 
ingly about  to  enter  that  awful  tract.  W 
I  was  a  "tenderfoot"  and  .supp'>- <'  ' 
nothing,  so  I  held  my  "  slinger." 


north-east  I  couldn't  tell,  and  no  man  out  there  We  bunched  up  the  herd,  ridmg  round  and 


584 


THE    WlDi:    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


round  till  we  got  them  in  shape,  and  then 
started  off.  As  the  river  was  left  behind  I 
somehow  smiled  and  thought  a  bit,  but  I  said 
nothing,  only  I  felt  we  were  going  to  our  death. 

All  that  night  we  travelled  without  a  stop, 
driving  and  hustling  the  herd.  The  morning 
dawned  with  that  dark-blue  colouring  so  peculiar 
to  Mexico ;  as  the  stars  disappeared  the  sky 
eastwards  turned  a  flaming  red,  while  all  around 
was  of  a  smoky  grey.  When  the  light  increased 
sufficiently  to  see  back  across  the  plains  I 
noticed  that  the  horses  were  already  badly  spun 
out  and  that  there  were  gaps  here  and  there, 
while  the  wedge  in  rear  had  increased,  more 
men  being  behind.  At  sun-up  we  rested  the 
herd  for  a  couple  of  hours  and  ate  the  iortillas 
made  the  night  before ;  no  fires  were  lighted. 
Again  we  took  up  the  trail  with  a  very  weary  lot 
of  horses,  which  in  spite  of  our  efforts  scattered 
out,  while  one  by  one  they  dropped  down  and 
were  abandoned.  The  sun  shone  fiercely  ui)on 
a  dry,  hard  soil,  dotted  here  and  there  with 
patches  of  withered  brush  and  dead  buffalo- 
grass,  a  weird  species  of  vegetation  which  dies  as 
it  grows.  Higher  and  higher  mounted  the  sun, 
sending  down  its  burning  rays  out  of  that  fearful 
stillness  upon  the  wretched  horses,  who  stumbled 
along  under  the  crack  of  the  cutting  blacksnakes. 


Again  and  again  some  wretched  brute  was 
permitted  to  fall  back  and  was  abandoned, 
while  the  white  alkali  dust  the  hoofs  kicked  up 
rose  to  one's  throat  and  nostrils,  causing  a  salt, 
sticky  sensation.  On  touching  the  precious  tin 
containing  my  store  of  water  I  found  it  quite 
hot.  Away  back  to  the  horizon  stretched  the 
abandoned  horses,  looking  like  connecting  links 
with  the  life  we  were  leaving  behind,  some 
standing  still  with  lowered  heads,  while  others 
followed  slowly  after  the  bunch,  occasionally 
emitting  a  shrill  neigh  as  they  dropped  farther 
and  farther  in  rear.  Silvermane  had  a  lot  to 
do  in  keeping  up  our  portion,  and  nobly  did 
she  respond.  Still  we  went  onward,  until  about 
midday  we  left  the  solid  ground  and  struck  the 
most  fearful  of  this  world's  deserts— the  Salt 
Plains. 

Miles  and  miles  ahead  stretched  the  white, 
glistening  salt,  dazzling  and  blinding  to  the 
eyes,  while  here  and  there  arose  a  small  hum- 
mock of  earth  from  which  protruded  some  long, 
thin  reeds  like  lances.  Of  life  there  was  no 
sign  ;  only,  stretching  away  on  all  sides,  myriads 
and  myriads  of  large  cobwebs,  which  in  the 
distance  and  with  the  sun  glistening  upon  them 
somehow  looked  like  large  lakes,  out  of  which 
the  small  humps  of  land  would  show  up  like 


'    IIIE    WRrTCMKri    IKlKSIvS   STUMULEU   ALO.NG    UNDlvK    THE   CKACK    OF    THE   CUTTING    lU.ACKSNAKES." 


rili:    SMUGdLKKS    OF    THK    STAKi:!)     IM.AINS. 


585 


little  islands.  I  saw  the  men  in  iVoni  bindiiiL^ 
hancivercliiefs  and  clotiis  around  their  faces. 
Without  these  protections,  I  afterwards  heard,  a 
nun  is  apt  to  be  blinded  by  the  awful  whiteness. 

Although  not  yet  twenty-four  hours  from 
water  the  whole  bunch  of  horses  were  now  done 
up,  for  they  had  been  travelling  hard  for  some 
days  before  we  got  them.  It  was  only  by 
moistening  one's  lips  every  hour  or  so  that 
breathing  in  that  atmosphere  seemed  possible  ; 
plug  tol)acco  had  lost  its  [)ower  to  excite  the 
salivary  glands,  so  that  great  reliever  of  thirst 
was  gone. 

Onwards,  ever  onwards,  crawled  the  wretched 
horses,  struggling  through  the  hot  salt  and  sand. 
The  sun  went  down  with  the  herd  spun  out 
many  miles.  Away  back  I  could  see  a  man 
with  a  little  bunch  of  horses.  Occasionally  he 
would  jog  them  up  and  then  walk  his  horses 
until  they  fell  behind  again.  Behind  him  again 
were  stragglers,  with  men  urging  them  up,  but 
these  I  could  not  see.  No  one  was  near  me 
now.  I  tried  hard  to  keep  up  my  set,  but  first 
one  and  then  another  slipped  by  me.  At  dark 
I  ran  into  the  head  of  the  herd,  which  had  been 
halted  and  bunched  up  in  case  of  accident ;  for 
if  the  wind  blew  now  the  trail  of  those  in  front 
would  be  obliterated  and  the  disconnected  part 
lost.  The  herd  was  hard  to  hold  that  night, 
moving  around  and  trying  to  break  out  of  the 
circle.  It  was  nearly  daybreak  before  all  of 
them  were  in,  and  then  two  of  the  men  were 
sick. 

We  rested  until  sun-up,  then  started  out 
again.  One  man  was  bound  on  his  saddle,  but 
he  was  behind  me,  so  I  didn't  see  him.  This 
time  I  was  in  the  middle,  but  the  same  old 
game  soon  started — the  herd  lengthened  out. 
There  was  no  cursing  or  swearing  now,  and  no 
one  spoke,  only  the  long  blacksnakes  worked 
harder.  Some  of  the  horses  which  had  lain 
down  could  not  get  up,  and  so  were  left. 
Always  we  were  among  those  ghastly  mounds  of 
earth  and  salt,  stretching  to  the  horizon,  with 
nothing  in  the  distance,  and  not  the  smallest 
indication  of  water. 

Slower  and  slower  crept  the  herd,  and  wider 
grew  the  intervals  between  the  stragglers  ;  at 
midday  the  herd  stretched  back  out  of  sight. 
Here  and  there  was  a  horseman  with  a  little 
bunch  connected  to  the  bunch  behind  by  a  few 
stragglers,  there  a  gap  and  a  horseman  alone, 
while  away  back  was  an  indistinct  mass,  showing 
movement  only  by  its  dust.  Luckily,  the  riding 
horses  had  been  prepared  for  this  grim  struggle, 
for  it  was  on  his  horse  that  a  man  now  relied  lor 
life. 

As  the  forenoon  came  on  the  heat  rising  from 

the  salt  felt  like  hot  flannel  U)  the  mouth  ami 
v^i.  X.-74. 


face  ;  the  air  grew  curiously  heavy,  while  I.  felt 
as  if  under  the  influence  of  alcohol.  One's 
mind  wandered;  it  was  as  if  one  had  two 
minds,  one  foolish  and  the  other  reasoning  .inil 
argumentative. 

The  man  who  started  about  two  hundred  yards 
after  me  at  sunrise  was  now  nearly  a  mile 
behind  and  was  riding  alone,  while  between  him 
and  the  moving  dust  behind  there  were  only 
a  few  scattered  horses.  I  saw  him  (juirt  his 
horse,  which  did  not  respond ;  finally  he  got  off 
and,  drawing  out  his  Winchester  from  under 
the  saddle,  moved  wearily  off  into  some  broken 
ground  and  lay  down.  I  took  a  small  lick  at 
the  bottle  hidden  in  my  saddle-pocket,  got  o(T, 
and,  blowing  into  Silvermane's  nostrils,  cleaned 
out  the  accumulated  sand  and  dirt. 

The  trail  was  up — finished  !  It  was  easy 
to  realize  this,  for  we  covered  a  half-mile  of 
frontage,  and  the  pointer  and  tho.se  who  were 
following  him  had  come  together.  Horse  after 
horse  now  slipped  by  me,  and  eventually  I  rode 
forward  and  joined  a  man  called  Adams.  He 
told  me  that  the  Indians  had  separated  and  left 
the  trail,  and  that  we  had  better  "  pull  out,"  as 
in  the  mad  struggle  for  life  that  was  about 
to  begin  we  might  be  shot  for  the  sake  of  our 
horses.  It  was  for  that  reason  that  Francesco, 
the  man  behind  me,  had  abandoned  his 
exhausted  horse  and  drawn  out  his  rifle  ;  he 
meant  to  get  another  mount  at  all  costs,  for  with- 
out a  horse  in  that  awful  desert  a  man  was  prac- 
tically dead.  One  could  see  plainly  now  that 
the  horses  had  been  abandoned,  for  the  men 
were  in  threes  and  fours  and  moving  on. 
Adams  said  he,  too,  was  a  "  tenderfoot,"  so 
that  we  had  better  stick  together  and  clear  out, 
firing  on  any  man  who  approached  to  try  and 
get  our  horses. 

As  the  general  direction  seemed  north,  we 
struck  off  for  the  east.  My  new  pard's  horse 
was  a  good  one,  but  poor  little  Silvermane  was 
done  up ;  her  eyes  were  nearly  stopped  u|)  with 
sand.  Poor,  gentle  thing,  she  must  have  tiiought 
me  a  regular  demon,  but  I  could  not  help  it,  and 
with  a  heart  crying  with  pity  I  forced  her 
stumbling  on.  At  about  four  that  afternoon  a 
feeling  of  madness  came  over  me  -  that  frenzy 
which  a  man  experiences  when  realizing  thai  he 
is  going  towards  his  death.  My  water  was 
finished  long  ago  and  there  si  emed  no  >» 

way  out  of  this  awful  wilderness.  Trui.  ••«  .-id 
got  out  of  the  salt  and  were  upon  sand,  which 
relieved  the  eyes  somewhat,  but  the  same  finish 
must  overtake  us  in  the  end.  The  horses  could 
not  go  on  much  longer  ;  already  I  had  dropped 
my  Winchester  and  saddle  pockets,  flour  and 
stuff,  to  lighten  the  load,  but  at  nightfall  I  knew 
Silvermane  must  fall,  and  then      what  ? 


586 


THE    WIDE    WOREI)    MACIAZIXE. 


I  felt  sick  and  giddy.  My  mouth  was  dry 
and*  parched,  my  teeth  felt  like  dry  stones,  and 
my  tongue  as  if  made  of  leather,  although  it 
hurt  to  talk. 

I  cannot  distinctly  remember  what  happened 
afterwards.  I  know  we  travelled  all  that  night 
and  struck  foothills  in  the  morning,  where,  pick- 
ing up  a  buffalo  wallow  (a  beaten-down  path 
made  by  buffiiloes  in  the  olden  days  and  leading 
to  water),  we  held  on  until  we  came  to  the  top 
of  a  hogback,  or  small  hill,  which,  when  followed 
up,  brought  us  to  a  corral  of  dry  reeds,  in  which 
there  were  a  trough  and  water.  I  had  great 
trouble  in  getting  the  bridle  off  the  little  mare, 
as    she    put    her   head    deep   into    the   water. 


stone-built  shanty  about  twelve  feet  square, 
which  we  entered,  and  hunting  up  some  food  lit 
a  fire  of  soap-weed  sticks.  The  owner  turned 
up  at  nightfall,  creeping  around  the  house  with 
a  Winchester,  thinking  we  had  "jumped"  his 
water-hole.  He  said  we  were  about  sixty  miles 
from  Sierra  Blanca,  on  a  spur  of  the  Guadalupe 
Mountains. 

We  rested  with  him  for  three  days,  while  the 
horses  fed  around  the  water  hole,  there  being 
grass  on  the  mountain-side.  We  then  left  for 
Las  Cruces.  While  there  we  heard  that  the 
police  and  some  United  States  cavalry  were 
patrolling  the  Rio  Grande  looking  for  us  ;  that 
two  of  our  men  had  been  captured,  and  that  two 
more  had  been  shot  by  the  Mexican  Police. 
There  was  no  account  of  the  others.  Not  one 
of  the  party  regained  El  Paso — so  the  Mexicans 


I 


WE    AM,    URANK   TOGETHER. 


We  all  drank  together,  while  Adams's  prayer  of 
thankfulness  was:  "I'm  done  with  that  awful 
Mexico  : " 

When  we  unsaddled  the  horses  rolled  and 
r(jllcd  again,  Silvermaiie  staying  down,  while 
Adams's  animal  wandered  off  to  feed.  I  lay 
down  against  the  corral  and  chewed  a  piece  of 
"Climax  plug."  Our  long  agony  was  finished, 
we  knew  ;  there  must  be  a  habitation  near,  but 
we  never  stirred— only  to  get  up  and  drink  a 
little  more.  Presently  we  left  our  gear  in  the 
corral  and  followed  up  the   path,  coming  to  a 


employed  in  Doran's  Corral  related — so  that 
the  Staked  Plains  n)ust  have  taken  their  death- 
toll  of  the  others.  Naturally,  it  was  our  duly  to 
keep  out  of  the  way,  so  following  the  river  uj)  to 
Albuquerque  we  sold  our  things,  and  through 
an  agency  got  employment  in  the  mines  at  Ouray, 
in  Colorado.  I  got  no  [)ay  for  the  part  I  had 
taken  in  that  awful  trail,  and  to  this  day  I  think 
that  the  whole  herd  of  horses  was  stolen,  and 
that  it  was  not  solely  to  escape  Uncle  Sam's 
small  ta.xation  that  that  desperate  attempt  was 
made  to  take  them  over  the  White  Plains. 


Jhs  SaldwitT-^iGoler  J'olar  G^cpedition. 

Rv  I-:.   Hriggs  Baldwin. 

Til 

An    authoritative    account    of    the    work    of    this    important    expedition,    written    by   the    leader   of    the 

party.      Mr.   Baldwm    il  ustrates  h.s  narrative  with  some    particularly  striking   photographs    which  u-m 

give  our  readers  a  viv.d  idea  of  the  rigours  attending  exploration  work  in  the  ice-bound  Arctic 


^Wil;!^ 


X*' 


^^Fw 


m^^ 


From  a\ 


THE    EXI'KDITION    RNTERING    COM,l.\S()N    CH.^NNEI.. 


[Photo. 


XTENDIMG  in  a  south-westerly 
direction  from  Kane  Lodge  is 
Collinson  Channel,  nine  or  ten 
miles  in  length.  In  the  accom- 
panying photograph  we  see  the 
e.\[;cdiliunary  force  entering  this  picturesque 
avenue,  with  the  snow  and  ice-covered  slopes 
and  clifts  composing  the  eastern  termination  of 
President  McKinley  Island  in  the  background. 
At  the  very  entrance  to  the  channel  the  current 
ot  the  sea  is  swift  and  mucii  compressed 
between  close -approaching  shores.  The  ice, 
therefore,  readily  disintegrates,  and  o[)en  water 
prevails  at  that  spot  all  the  year  round,  save  dur- 
ing periods  of  extreme  cold.  About  the  middle 
of  March,   1902,  the  writer,  with  seven  men  and 


thirteen  ponies,  crossed  the  ice  at  this  point  for 
the  first  time.  The  ice  was  then  about  a  foot 
in  thickness,  very  plastic,  and  lay  in  undulations 
as  though  the  waves  of  the  sea  had  suddenly 
congealed.  In  spots,  especially  near  icebergs, 
open  water  was  observed.  Three  weeks  later 
this  entire  field  of  ice  had  disappeared,  save  a 
narrow  belt  which  still  clung  to  the  shore,  bare^ 
permitting  the  passage  of  our  caravan  info 
Collinson  Channel.  The  rapid  formation  of 
this  great  water-hole  right  across  our  line  of 
march  led  me  to  send  back  to  Camp  Ziegler, 
thirty  miles  distant,  for  one  of  the  row-boats,  as 
we  had  with  us  only  our  canvas  canoes,  or 
"  kyaks,"  and  might  find  the  wooden  boat  to  be 
indispensable    before    the    conclusion    of    our 


Copyright,  1903,  by  George  Newnes,  Limited. 


588 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


II         ^ 


from  a.\ 


THE   OUTSKIKIS   OF   THE  CAMP,    SHOWING    THE   EAST   COAST   OF    PRESIDENT    MCKINLEY    ISLAND. 


[Photo. 


sledging.  For  this  purpose  the  faithful  assis- 
tants Lucas  and  Michael  were  dispatched  with 
two  of  the  ponies  and  one  sledge.  Besides  the 
hoat  they  brought  along  various  other  article.s, 
which  considerably  increased  the  already  heavy 
load  for  the  ponies.  Nevertheless,  they  returned 
to  camp  on  the  third  day  none  the  worse  for 
wear  and  in  good  cheer,  not  a  word  of  complaint 
escaping  the  lips  of  either  man.  They  had 
made  a  forced  march,  and  lo.ss  of  sleep  and 
extreme  cold  rendered 
the    trip  a   most    trying 

I  relate  this  incident 
as  a  tribute  tc;  the  loyalty 
of  these  two  men  and  as 
an  illustration  of  the 
great  utility  of  ponies  in 
Arctic  service.  In  the 
photo,  given  we  see 
the  two  men  and  the 
ponies  as  they  came  to 
a  halt  immediately  after 
arriving  in  camp  just 
beyond  the  southern 
entrance  to  Collinson 
Channel. 

Another  snap  -  shot 
shows  the  ponies  halting 
at  the  outskirts  of  our 
camp  at  the  southern 
extremity  of  the  channel. 
They  have  just  returned 
from  one  of  the  numer- 
ous trips  taken  to  Kane 


Lodge.  In  the  ne.xt  photo,  the  writer  is  observed 
removing  snowballs  from  the  ponies'  feet.  This 
important  duty  had  to  be  performed  regularly 
before  setting  out  on  a  day's  march,  and  often- 
times e?i  route,  for  the  snow  collected  quickly. 

Nine  miles  by  sledge  from  Kane  Lodge  in  a 
north-easterly  direction  is  the  site  of  one  of  our 
favourite  "camping  grounds  "  on  the  sea-ice  off 
the  east  coast  of  Kane  Island.  Early  one  morn- 
ing we  were  awakened  by  a  sudden  outcry  among 


^•" 


I 


/-  >o)n  a  I 


KEMOVINC   SNOWBALLS    KKOM    THE    I'ONIEs'    FEET. 


ypiioto. 


I 


Till':     1!A1.I)\VI\  ZII'CI.F.  R     POLAR     I.X  I'l .  I  MlIoM. 


the  dogs,  and 
upon  going  oul 
side  my  lent  1 
discovered  a 
large  bull-walrus 
slowly  making 
his  way  into  the 
canii).  A  few 
moments  later  a 
cartridge  put  an 
end  to  his  pro- 
gress and  fur- 
nished our  dogs 
with  three  good 
"feeds  "of  strong, 
wholesome  food 
that  did  much 
to  expedite  the 
removal  of  the 
provisions  from 
our  Kane  Island 
camp.  Upon  fol- 
lowing the  tracks  left  by  this  walrus  we  came 
upon  another  one  of  his  kind,  a  yearling  calf, 
which  had  climbed  high  upon  the  shore,  evi- 
dently with  the  intention  of  observing  the  move- 
ments of  his  companion  and  protector.  Both 
walruses  were  probably  searching  either  for  open 
water  or  some  fissure  through  which  they  might 
gain  access  to  the  sea.  The  nearest  open-water 
hole  from  where  they  were  found,  however,  was 


From  a] 


MK.    BALDWIN    TEASING   A    VOUNG    WALRUS. 


attitudes  the 
animal  might 
assume  under  ill- 
treatment.  A 
series  of  photos, 
were  taken  of 
these  as  a  study 
in  zoology.  It 
was  found  that 
the  walrus  in- 
variably offered 
defence  by  sud- 
denly darting 
forward  his  head 
a  n  d  neck  as 
though  desiring 
to  strike  with  his 
head  or  snout. 

The  establish- 
ing of  the  famous 
depot  at  Toeplitz 
Bay,  Crown 
Prince  Rudolf  Land,  is  represented  in  the 
next  photo.  'Phere  were  assembled  here  at 
one  time  twenty-eight  men,  twelve  ponies, 
and  one  hundred  and  sixty  dogs.  P)uring 
the  entire  journey  we  had  lost  but  one  pony 
(Billy)  and  one  dog.  By  this  time  the 
hair  on  every  man's  head  had  grown  long,  in 
many  instances  reaching  ([uite  to  the  shoulders; 
and  this  gave  us  a  very  curious  ap[)earance. 


r 


J-  /  Olll  u\ 


iHli    Dlil'or    AT    TOEILIIZ    UAV,    CUOW.N    IKlNCli    UUDuLK    l.AM). 


ten  miles  distant.  Very  likely  they  had  been 
either  frozen  out  or  shut  out  by  some  movement 
of  the  ice  while  asleep  u[)on  the  main  pack. 

I'he  first  photo,  on  this  page  shows  the  author 
teasing  the  young  walrus,  in   order  to  note  the 


With  the  establishment  of  tlu>  um.-  si^Iendid 
depot  we  might  well  have  rested  content,  antl 
when  I  announced  that  it  contained  more  pro- 
visions than  I  had  ever  thought  it  possible  to 
convey    by    sledge    to    Crown    Piin.  .■    Rudolf 


590 


THE    WIDE    WORLD     MAdAZINE. 


■'/. 


From  a  ] 


KN    KOU  rE    TO    NANSKN  S    HUT — THE   SII.K    TEXT    IN    WHICH    THE    EXPLORERS    SLEPT. 


yPhoto 


Land  the  party  cheered  heartily.  When  I 
announced  that  there  remained  time  for  the 
formation  of  other  depots  and  the  prosecu- 
tion of  other  exploration  work,  nearly  every 
man  found  himself  both  willing  and  able  to 
respond  to  the  call.  As  a  result  of  this  cheerful 
spirit  we  can  now  point  to  the  two  other  depots 
established,  and  to  the  journey  to  Nansen's  hut, 
etc.  Besides  these  depots  we  also  have  the  two 
houses  at  Camp  Ziegler.     One  of  these  is  full 


of  provisions,  and  much  of  the  original  equip- 
ment is  also  available  for  a  future  expedition, 
not  only  at  the  cam[),  but  also  on  board  the 
Ame}  tea. 

Upon   the   return   of  the   sledging   party    to 
Kane  Lodge,  after  the  formation  of  the  depot 


in  Rudolf  Land,  I  set  out  on  a  journey  to  i"ind 
the  winter  lair  of  Dr.  Nansen  and  Lieutenant 
Johansen,  accompanied  by  Artist  Porter  and 
Photographer  Fiala.  Li  the  accompanying 
snap-shot  will  be  seen  the  little  silk  tent  in 
which  the  three  of  us  ate  and  slept  while  on  the 
journey.  The  dogs  will  be  noticed  fast  asleep 
by  the  upturned  sledges.  On  this  occasion  our 
camp  was  about  three  miles  east  of  Cape  Nor- 
way, the  site  of  the  winter  hut  of  which  we  were 

in    search.      Just 
as  we    had  fallen 
asleep    after    sup- 
per on  the  even- 
ing of  our  arrival 
at     this    point    a 
huge  she-bear  and 
two     large     cubs 
suddenly  put  in  an 
appearance.        In 
spite  of   the   fact 
that  the  dogs  had 
been    tied    singly 
round      the      up- 
turned sledges, 
both   teams  de- 
camped in  pursuit 
of     the    bears, 
which,  alarmed  at 
the    noisy   rabble   following    them, 
climbed  the  slope  of  a  glacier  and 
disappeared  behind  a  rocky  knoll. 
Owing  to  a  partial  snow-blindness 
which  had  overtaken  me  I  was  unable  to  see  the 
bears   until    they  were  quite  beyond  the  range 
of  my  rifle. 

The  interesting  photo,  here  given  shows 
Nansen's  world-famous  "hut"  exactly  as  we  found 
it  two  days  after  the  incident  with  the  bears, 


NANSEN  S  FAMOUS  " HUT  " 
l)ISCO\ERED  BY  MR.  BALDWIN 
ANU     MARKED   WITH    A    FLAG. 

From    a    Flioto. 


THE   HALi)\\ii\-zii:(;i.i:R   I'OLAR   EXiM:i)rri()\. 


591 


excepting,  of  course,  the  unfurling  of  the 
American  flag  upon  the  hut.  I'he  "flag-staff,"' 
by  the  way,  consisted  of  a  strip  of  frozen  walrus- 
hide,  which  I  stumbled  upon  along  the  beach 
while  searching  for  the  hut  itself.  Round  about 
this  historic  locality  were  the  white  bones  of 
many  a  bear  which  the  hardy  explorers  had 
picked  clean.  Setting  to  work  with  an  ordinary 
alpenstock  and  a  tin  can,  we  at  length  removed 
the  snow  which  completely  filled  the  hut.  We 
then  found  the  small  blubber-lamp,  black  and 
oily,  just  as  the  two  men  had  left  it,  after  having 
cooked  their  last  meal  in  the  hut,  and  also  the 
little  brass  cylinder  with  its  stopper  of  wood, 
and,  within  the 
cylinder,  the 
document  which 
Dr.  Nansen  had 
written  and  de- 
posited upon 
taking  leave  of 
his  lonely  dug- 
out dwelling  on 
the  19th  of  May, 
1896.  For  two 
days  Photo- 
grapher Fiala, 
Artist  Porter,  and 
myself  were 
steadily  em- 
ployed securing 
photogra  [)  h  s, 
colour  sketches, 
and  making  notes 
of  the  memor- 
able spot. 

While    in    the 
vicinity  of  Cape 


hrviiia\       III  I  x.Mi-  /nci.i.K.        [I'/icto.  ^\ 

Norway,  Fiala  and  I  embraced  the 
opportunity  of  extending  our  journey  to 
Cape  Hugh  Mill.  This  we  did  on  foot 
through  a  blinding  snowstorm.  Fortu- 
nately upon  our  arrival  the  weather  cleared,  and 
we  beheld  one  of  the  most  magnificent  basaltic 
headlands  in  the  world.  Every  day  of  this 
exciting  trip  witnessed  some  stirring  episode, 
either  with  bears,  walruses,  treacherous  ice,  or 
stormy  weather. 

Once  more  arrived  back  at  Kane  Lodge,  the 
entire  party  set  out  on  the  return  journey  to 
Camp  Ziegler.  Having  only  our  camping  equip- 
age the  teams  were  lightly  burdened,  and  the 
drivers  themselves  rode  in  order  to  control  the 
dogs  and  ponies  to  better  advantage.  This 
return  journey  is  shown  in  the  above  photograph. 
Shortly  after  our  return  to  head-quarters  we 


Fir, I. INC.  ON'K  111-  TiiF   r.Ai.i.nnv> 


r.V    WHICH    TIIK    F.XPF.DITION    Cn.\l  ML' VICATKD   WITH    CIVILIZATION. 


592 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


began  to  dispatch  messages  to  civilization  by 
means  of  balloons.  Altogether  fifteen  balloons 
and  three  hundred  messages  were  given  to 
the  winds  in  the  course  of  June.  In  a 
photo,  on  page  591  we  see  the  inflation  of 
one  of  these  aerial  messengers.  Every  one 
of  the  messages  bore  an  urgent  request  for 
coal,  as  cur  supply  was  so  short  by  the  end 
of  June  that  we  had  only  sixty-seven  tons  on 
board.  This  was  in  part  owing  to  the  very 
early  breaking  up  of  the  ice,  which  compelled 
us  to  get  up  steam  several  weeks  earlier  than 
had  been  anticipated,  in  order  to  save  the 
yacht  from   being  crushed   l)y  the  numerous 


icebergs  wh 
into  which 


/ 


ich  drifted  about  the  open-water  hole 
we  had  been  thrust.  In  the  photo- 
graph Secretary  Barnard  is  seen 
immediately  in  front  of  the  bal- 
loon ;  while  Mr.  Rilliet,  in  charge 
of  the  balloon  section,  is  in  the 
background.  Another  member  of 
the  party  stands  close  to  the 
hydrogen-gas  generator,  while  yet 
another  is  adjusting  the  balloon 
net.  Another  photo,  shows  a 
string  of  twenty  cork  buoys,  each 
containing  a  message,  being  borne 
aloft  by  the  balloon.    Attached  to 


lllU    l-l.iAKlOKt    Ol-    A    IIAI.L.I.IN    CARKVING   TWEN  lY   COKK    UUOVS   CO\TAININ(,    M  l-.S>^AGKS. 


U'hoto. 


I'.     l:.\l,l»\\l.\  /ll.Ol.l.k     Pol.Ak     l.Xl'LDl  1  1U\. 


593 


tlic    lU't    sur 
roiindinir     ihc 
gas  -  hag    itstlf 
are     dii[)licatc 
messages   con- 
tained  in  cop[)er 
floats,      Royal 
baking  powder 
tins,    and    other 
rece|)tarles,  etc. 

Oil     July    1st, 
1902,  the  Ai/ii'f- 
ica  took  her  de- 
parture     from 
Camp  Ziegler  on 
the   homeward 
voyage.      During 
the  lime  of   em- 
barkation   heavy 
drift-ice  closed  in 
round  the  ves- 
sel, and  excit- 
ing   work     at- 
tended the  taking  on  board  of  the 
remaining  five  ponies  and  the  one 
hundred  and  fifty  dogs.     Some  of      /-><;,«'«] 
the    incidents    of    this  ■  work    are 
well    shown    in    the    annexed    snap-shot. 

For  sixteen  days  the  struggle  to  get  through 
the  ice  which  blocked  Aberdare  Channel  for 
about  fifteen  miles  south  of  Camp  Ziegler  con- 
tinued without  cessation —a  trying  ordeal  for 
everyone  on  board. 
The  task  was  at 
length  accomplished 
however,  throuuh  th 


,11      1111.     iCK     FOK     THE     1. 
I'ONIES   AND    DOGS. 


ii'/ioio. 


combined  efforts  of  steam,  dynamite,  and  muscle. 
In  one  of  the  illustrations  our  party  will  be 
observed  sawing  away  the  ice  from  the  sides 
of  the  ship,  while  the  last  photo,  shows  three 
dynamite   explosions    taking  place  on   the   ice. 

Mr.  Fiala  is  busy 
taking  a  series  ^of 
bioscope  pictures  of 
the  scene. 


I|11MKW\R»    nOUNU  — ni.ASTIXC.   AWAV   THE    ICE   WITH    IIVNAMITE   IS 
/■'lOlll  a]       OKOER  TO  MAKE  A  PASSAliK  FOK  THE  SHIP.  [I'lUltO. 


Vol.  X.  -75. 


THE  PEARL=POACHERS. 

By   D.  F.  Seton  -  Carruthers. 

The  story  of  a  remarkable  enterprise.  A  party  of  young  Englishmen  fitted  out  a  vessel  for  the 
purpose  of  visiting  an  island  where  there  were  reputed  to  be  fabulously  rich  beds  of  pearl- 
oysters.  The  island— although  never  annexed  and  quite  uninhabited  —  was  nominally  claimed 
by  Japan,  whose  gunboats  occasionally  visited  it  and  meted  out  summary  punishment  to  anyone 
found  pearling.  The  author  describes  how  the  quest  for  pearls  progressed ;  the  fight  at  the 
island  ;    how  the  Japanese  autrhorities  were  "  bluffed  "  into  supplying   their  quarry  with  coal ;    and 

the  final   successful    termination  of  the   expedition. 


NE  morning  towards  the  end  of 
June,  1892,  my  friend,  J.  W.  Travers, 
and  I  were  seated  at  breakfast  in  the 
chambers  we  then  shared.  We  were 
fast  friends  and  partners  always  in 
any  speculation  which  turned  up  and  promised 
fair  profits.  Our  last  jaunt  had  been  to  Australia, 
where  Fortune  had  played  us  more  than  one 
scurvy  trick,  but  finally  rewarded  us  handsomely. 
As  a  result  we  had  run  home  to  England  for  a 
few  months'  holiday.  But  now  we  were  getting 
satiated  with  civilization,  and  there  were  times 
when  we  longed  for  the  wilds  again.  On  the 
morning  in  question  we  had  received  a  letter 
from  Archibald  (Gordon.  That  is  not  the  whole 
of  his  name — "Burke"  adds  two  more  to  those 
I  have  given — but  it  is  the  abbreviation  by  which 
he  is  known  in  Aus- 
tralia and  the  islands. 
I'Vom  the  letter  we 
gathered  that  he  was 
organizing  another 
venture  and  was  eager 
that  we  should  join 
him.  We  were  more 
than  willing.  Con- 
sequently, eight  days 
later  we  were  on 
board  the  P.  and  O. 
liner  Orient,  en  route 
for  the  trysting-place. 
I  will  pass  over  tin 
incidents  of  tin 
voyage — which  weri 
few  and  trilling—  over 
our  arrival  at  Sydney, 
and  over  the  first  ten 
day.s  of  our  stay  there. 
On  the  morning  ol 
the  eleventh,  punr 
tual  to  the  second, 
(iordon  presented 
himself  at  our  hotel, 
cheery    and     self- 


possessed  as  ever,  and  apparently  without  a 
serious  thought  for  anything  in  the  world.  A 
cordial  greeting  all  round  and  he  began  to 
unfold  his  plan,  which  was  this.  On  one  of  his 
hundred  trips  among  the  islands  he  had  acci- 
dentally discovered  one  of  the  secret  pearl 
fisheries  claimed  by  Japan,  a  fabulously  rich 
one,  and  known  by  repute  to  every  soul  in  the 
"trade,"  but  never  previously  set  foot  upon  by 
a  European.  This  island  lay  about  fifteen 
hundred  miles  north-west  of  the  Bonin  Islands 
and  a  similar  distance  east  of  Yokohama. 
Though  claimed  by  the  country  named,  her 
ownership  was  doubtful  in  the  extreme.  She 
had  not  officially  annexed  it,  nor  was  it  charted 
as  inhabitable — merely  as  a  "reef,"  and  marked 
"Dangerous;  no  anchorage."     Both  the  latter 


^ 


lit    l.ti.AN     ro    U.M-OI.U    HIS    ri.A.S. 


the:  pearl  i'ua(  ukrs. 


595 


statements  were  pure  bluff  and  intended  to 
mislead,  as  appeared  later.  Gordon  there- 
fore contended  —  and  as  a  barrister  I  could 
not  but  agree  with  him  —  that  he  had  as 
much  right  to  fish  it  as  anyone.  Only  the  Japs 
thought  otherwise,  and  would  treat  such  exploit- 
ing of  their  preserves  as  poaching — and  punish 
it  accordingly.  Therein  lay  the  danger  and 
spice  of  his  proposal.  He  had  acquired  an 
option  upon  a  s{)lendid  yacht  of  about  eight 
hundred  tons,  and  could  purchase  her  outright 
tor  a  mere  song  ;  she  had  belonged  to  a  rich 
American  who  had  gone  to  great  expense  in 
having  her  fitted  with  a  description  of  turbine 
engines  as  an  experiment.  I'hough  similar  to 
the  Parsons  turbine  they  differed  in  several 
material  points  and  were  greatly  inferior,  so  much 
so  that  the  idea  of  making  them  of  commercial 
value  was  abandoned  shortly  before  the  yacht 
became  our  property.  After  pointing  out  the 
dangers  we  ran  of  confiscation  and  worse  if 
caught  at  the  reef,  Gordon  in\  ited  us  to  become 


overhauled  and  the  huge  (luanlity  of  stores 
required  purchased  and  safely  stowed  away, 
williout,  we  hoped,  attracting  undue  attention 
to  the  bulk  or  nature  of  them.  Also  an  ordinary 
quantity  of  coal  had  been  shipped — that  is  to 
say,  as  much  as  her  bunkers  would  hold  ;  for  it 
would  have  looked  queer  to  have  cumbered  the 
decks  of  a  trim  yacht  with  the  additional  tons 
that  were  absolutely  necessary  to  take  us  to  the 
reef  and  from  there  to  some  place  of  safety. 
We  therefore  made  arrangements  to  meet  Sandy 
MacGregor,  captain  of  the  Melbourne  tramp- 
steamer  Alelba,  at  a  point  down  the  coast  where 
we  could  tranship  at  sea,  out  of  sight  of  prying 
eyes,  as  much  more  as  we  wanted.  The 
remainder  of  the  cargo  he  was  instructed 
to  take  to  an  island  where  our  partner  had 
an  agent,  and  deposit  it  there  against  the 
possibility  of  a  shortage  on  the  return  trip. 
If  discovered  while  "fishing"  and  compelled  to 
l^ee  under  forced  draught,  a  half-way  house 
would  be  necessary  for  us  to  replenish  our  stock 

of  fuel  —  for  coals 
sim[)ly  melt  under 
such  circumstances. 
Lastly,  a  splendid 
crew  had  been  got 
together.  This  task 
had  been  entrusted 
to  a  gentleman  whom 
1  will  call  Captain 
Saunders,  a  one-time 
brilliant  naval  ofificer, 
who  had  left  the 
service  to  avoid  a 
court-martial  because 
of  an  arrant  coquette 
and  a  blow  struck  a 
superior  ofificer  on  her 
account.  As  my 
gallant  friend  now 
holds  an  important 
command  in  a  foreign 


navy, 


I  do  not  con- 


Wj    ins   CO.MrANlONS    FITTED   OUT     (-(iK      llltlR 


I'KAKL-POACHING   EXPEDITION 


[P/ioto. 


equal  partners  with  him  in  the  venture.  We 
jum[)ed  at  the  chance,  and  by  subscribing  two 
thousand  pounds  apiece  each  of  us  became  a 
third-owner  in  the  vessel  and  entitled  to  a 
third  of  whatever  profits  were  made. 

We  were  at  Stevens'.s,  the  shipbrokers,  the 
following  morning  on  the  stroke  of  ten  ;  by 
10.15  '■'^<-'  purchase  was  completed;  at  10.30  we 
were  on  board  the  Sii>a//o2i>,  as  the  yacht  was 
named,  vying  with  each  other  in  stringing 
together  words  of  praise  concerning  her. 

Ten  days  later  the  vessel  had  been  thoroughly 


sider  it  fixir  or  ex- 
pedient to  particu» 
larize  more  fully. 
About  2  p.m.  on  the  day  in  question  Travers 
and  I  joined  Gordon  on  board  the  Swal/mv. 
All  was  ready  for  an  immediate  start— decks 
cleared,  boats  swung  inboard,  men  at  their 
stations,  and  Saunders  on  the  bridge.  At  a 
sign  from  Ciordon  the  former  shouted  :  "  Ready 
there,  for'ard— let  her  go  ! "  There  was  a  quick 
movement  among  the  men  in  the  bow,  followed 
by  a  rattle  and  a  sjjlash  as  our  cable  was  slipped 
and  buoyed.  Next  moment  our  propellers 
were  in  motion,  and  presently  the  yacht  swung 
round  and  made  straight  tor  the  Heads. 


596 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


\Vc  were  within  two  hundred  yards  of  the 
passage  when  a  revenue  cutter  shot  out  from 
behind  the  rocks  and  signalled  us  to  "lay  to." 
Saunders  turned  his  head  slightly  towards  us 
and  raised  one  eyebrow.  Gordon  shook  his 
head;  the  engine-room  bell  tinkled  sharply 
thrice,  and  with  a  bound  we  were  tearing 
through  the  water  at  racing  speed,  apparently 
without  having  seen  the  signal !  But  we  were 
not  going  fast  enough  to  please  our  captain. 
There  came  another  sharp  tinkle  of  the  bell, 
an  advisory  word  to  us  to  hold  on  tight,  and  we 
were  flying  over  the  incoming  wavelets,  under 
fortetl  draught,  at  twenty-six  and  a  half  knots, 
our  funnels  red  hot,  and  the  beautiful  boat,  like 
a  live  thing,  quivering  through  every  plate  and 
beam.  The  cutter's  best  speed  was  nineteen, 
and  it  would  take  her  half  an  hour  to  reach 
that.  \Ve,  with  our  turbines,  sprang  into  our 
stride  almost  instantly.  At  the  time  we  were 
not  certain  whether  they  wanted  us  to  stop 
for  the  observance  of  some  formality  we 
had  forgotten,  or  because  an  inkling  of  our  real 
object  had  leaked  out.  Afterwards  we  learned 
that  the  purchase  of  so  many  diving  costumes 
had  aroused  suspicions  ;  we  were  therefore  wise 
in  turning  a  blind  eye  to  the  signals. 

But  the  Customs'  folk  were  not  to  be  shaken 
off  so  easily  as  we  hoped.  The  plucky  little 
launch,  failing  in  her  attempt  to  cross  our  bows, 
kept  close  in  our  wake,  tooting  her  whistle 
shrilly  and  repeating  the  signal  to  "  lay  to  "  at 
intervals.  We  cleared  the  Heads  with  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  in  hand  ;  in  an  hour  we  could  scarcely 
see  her  smoke-stack,  a  good  seven  miles  astern, 
and  by  five  o'clock  we  were  completely  below 
her  limited  horizon.  At  six  we  altered  our 
course  and  reduced  speed  to  fifteen  knots,  at 
which  rate  we  proceeded  until  we  picked  up 
Captain  MacGregor.  That  was  at  3  a.m.  ;  by 
nine  o'clock  we  had  transhipped  all  the  coal  we 
could  carry  and  were  once  more  en  route. 

As  the  coast  of  Australia  melted  into  a  blue 
haze  astern,  Gordon  requested  Saunders  to  call 
all  hands  aft.  They  were  a  smart-looking  lot, 
and  fell  in  with  a  i)romptness  and  air  of 
discipline  unusual  among  merchant  sailormen. 
They  explained  with  sheepish  grins  that  most  of 
them  were  R.N.R.  men,  and  had  done  one  or 
two  trainings  !  And  we  let  it  go  at  that,  though 
we  knew  better,  especially  Saunders,  who  had 
dug  them  out  of  the  dens  most  favoured  by 
naval  deserters.  They  were  chiefly  those  who 
had  been  lured  from  their  duty  by  the  fasci- 
nating stories  of  suddenly-made  fortunes,  so 
common  among  those  who  only  know  Australia 
by  repute.  Gordon  looked  ihcm  over  with  the 
eye  of  a  horn  leader,  and  got  to  the  business 
part  of  his  speech  at  once. 


"  My    lads,"    he    said,    "  iVe    asked   Cai)tain 
Saunders  to  call   you  together  so  that  we   can 
understand  each  other  from  the  start.      We  are 
not  on  a  pleasure  trip,  but  on  a  business  one — 
pearl-fishing,  to  be  exact — and  expect  to   make 
large  profits.      In  those  profits  you  shall  share, 
if  all  goes  well,  to  the  extent  of  10  per  cent., 
divided  among  you  all  on  the  scale  used  in  the 
Navy  when  apportioning  prize-money.      Most  of 
you  know  how  that  works  out,"  he  added,  with 
sly    emphasis,    and    the    men    looked    at    one 
another  under  their  eyebrows  and  grinned  and 
shuffled    their   feet.      "  The    chief   risk    we    are 
exposed  to  is  that  the  Japs  consider  they  have 
some    sort    of   claim  to    the    fisheries  and  will 
regard  us  as  poachers.      If  we  are  caught  in  the 
act  we  shall  have  to  bluff,  run,  or  fight.      What 
we  want  to  know  is,  can  we  depend   upon   you 
all  in  any  event?"     As  Gordon  concluded  there 
was  a  stir  among  the  men,  with  much  whispering  ; 
then  Williams,   the   bo'sun,  was  pushed    to   the 
front  and,  with  a  preliminary  hoist  of  his  slacks 
and  a  salute,  said  :  "  I'm  to  tell  you,  sir,  that  the 
men  like  the  sound  of  the  job  and  will  stand  by 
you,  fair  weather  or  foul.     An'  if  so  be  as  them 
rummy  little  Japs  comes  any  o' their  nonsense — 
why,  we'll  oblige  'em  with  a  dust-up,  just  for  the 
fun  o'  the  thing,"  he  concluded. 

"Thanks,  my  lads,  that's  what  I  wanted  to 
hear,"  said  Gordon.  "  By  the  way,  did  any  of 
you  learn  how  to  handle  a  Hotclikiss  while  in 
the  — R.N.R.  ?  "  he  added,  with  a  twinkle  in  his 
eyes. 

After  a  moment's  whispered  consultation  a 
man  named  Smith  was  pushed  to  the  front. 
"  Beggin'  your  pardon,  sir,  I  was  gunner's  mate 
on  board — for  some  time,"  he  corrected  hastily, 
amid  the  grins  of  his  shipmates,  "and  know 
a  bit  about  them,  an'  Bill  Andrews  here," 
jerking  a  thumb  towards  the  man  on  his  left, 
"  was  the  best  shot  we  had." 

Bill  bluslied  and  became  interested  in  the 
foretop  until  nudged  by  Smith,  when  he  sud- 
denly hitched  up  his  slacks,  saluted,  and  said, 
hurriedly,  "  Aye,  aye,  sir." 

"All  right.  Report  to  Captain  Saunders  in 
the  morning  and  we  will  see  what  you  can  do," 
ordered  Gordon,  with  a  nod  and  a  smile.  That 
and  a  tot  of  rum  for  all  hands  concluded  the 
proceedings. 

Five  days  later  we  called  at  Gordon's  Is^e 
and  picked  up  the  twenty  Sandwich  Islanders 
who  were  to  act  as  divers.  At  sundown  we 
weighed  anchor  again  and  started  upon  the  last 
stage  of  our  journey. 

Seven  days  later  we  caught  the  first  glimpse 
of  our  goal — a  patch  of  blue  haze  right  ahead 
on  the  edge  of  the  horizon.  As  we  drew  nearer 
it  took  sha[)e  and   showed  us  a  long,  low  island, 


THE    PEARL  -  I'OACHERS. 


597 


BILL    A.NDNEWS    HEliE    WAS   THE    ISEST   SHOT    WE    HAD. 


covered  with  palms,  dewy  wet,  and  blazing 
like  burnished  gold  in  the  sun's  early  rays. 
But  there  was  not  a  sign  of  life  or  habitation, 
not  a  sound  save  the  dull  roar  of  the  surf. 
This  rejoiced  us  greatly.  We  kept  a 
good  offing,  however,  and  steamed 
completely  round  to  make  sure  no 
vessel  was  at  or  near  the  island.  Then 
carefully  sounding,  groping  our  way 
yard  by  yard,  we  made  the  passage  of 
the  outer  reef  and  dropped  anchor 
between  it  and  the  inner  one.  (See 
map.)  E.xcitement  ran  high  among 
us  all.  The  crew  were  gathered 
for'ard,  talking  in  whispers.  The 
Sandwich  Islanders  were  there,  too, 
but  squatting,  stolidly  munching  their 
breakfasts.  An  island  more  or  less 
was  nothing  to  them.  As  for  the 
pearls — well,  they  looked  upon  our 
eagerness  to  secure  them  with  tolerant 
contempt.  If  our  hunt  had  been  for 
blue  or  scarlet  beads,  now,  they  could 
have  understood  it;  but  those  grey- 
white  seeds — bah  ! 

Taking  the  bo'sun  and  four  hands, 
also  our  sporting  guns  and  water- 
kegs,  as  a  feasible  excuse  for  landing 
should  there  be  a  Jajiancse  guard  on 
the  island,  we  lowered  the  whale-boat 
and  pulled  for  the  opening  in  the 
inner  reeT.  Three  minutes  later  we 
beached  her  on  a  spit  of  sand.     After 


crossing  this  llie 
inner  lagoon  - 
oval  in  .^hapcand 
some  two  miles 
in  length  by 
about  one  in 
breadth  — lay 
stretched  before 
our  view.  Its 
shores  were  palm- 
clad  right  down 
to  the  glistening 
sandy  beach,  as 
were  the  tiny 
hills  which  sur- 
rounded it  and 
formed  a  belt 
about  half  a  mile 
wide  between  it 
and  the  outer 
reefs  and  ocean. 
On  our  right  was 
a  hill  a  hundred 
feet  or  so  high, 
and  another  and 
lower  one  on  our 

left.     The  island  was  partly  volcanic,  but  chiefly 

coralline  in  formation. 

Gordon  led  us  forward  to  the  clearing  at  the 

foot   of  the   larger  hill,  and,  [)ointing  to  a  row 


lAT.   M 


./ 


•^ 


If. 


'.^\    !','  f'j     .• 


7^- 


/r 


^ 


.■^ 


-r.rtf 


t'EAKI.    ISLAND,    l"REPAKKD    IIV   CAPTAIN     iAUNUKKS    UUKIM; 
THE    STAY   OK     THE    fAKTV. 


59^ 


THE    WIDE    \VORi.D    MAGAZINE. 


of  neatly  -  constructed  bamboo  cottages,  ex- 
plained laconically,  "  Fishermen's  quarters. 
They  housed  a  hundred  odd  Japs  last  time 
I  was  here.  Glad  they're  still  standing. 
They'll  save  rigging  up  sheds  for  the  men. 
Now  come  and  look  at  the  beds."  Leading  the 
way  to  the  edge  of  the  lagoon  he  called  our 
attention  to  several  large,  grey-black  patches 
dotting  the  bottom.  Travers  and  I  peered 
eagerly  down.  It  was  our  first  glimpse  of 
"pearlers,"  and  our  imaginations  ran  riot  as  to 
their  contents,  especially  as  to  the  probable 
value  of  the  same. 

The    remainder    of    that    day    was    sjitnt    m 


alteration  was  carried  out  by  means  ot  canvas 
screens  painted  brown,  and  complete  with  false 
portholes,  etc.  The  disguise  was  perfect ;  her 
own  builders  would  not  have  known  her. 

The  following  morning  fishing  commenced  in 
earnest.  The  rafts  were  rapidly  constructed 
and  anchored  over  likely  "  beds";  the  well-oiled 
islanders,  naked  sa\e  for  a  girdle  round  the 
waist,  containing  a  heavy  knife,  ready  and  stand- 
ing on  the  edge  of  the  raft,  each  with  a  foot  in 
the  leaded  noose  that  would  carry  them  to  the 
bottom  like  a  flash  at  the  word  of  connnand. 
Each  carried  a  basket  wicker-crate  attached  to 
the   raft   bv   a    second   line.     This  it   was  their 


•IlllC    W  1,IJ.-"I1  l.IJ    Isl.ANLiLKS. 


getting  ashore  tiie  provisions,  hammocks,  diving 
:ipparalus,  torpedo-like  floats  for  constructing 
the  rafts  from  which  the  divers  would  descend, 
the  cauldrons,  and  other  impedimenta.  A\'hile 
this  was  going  on  Saunders  and  half-a-dozen 
tars  were  altering  the  appearance  of  the  Sivalhiv, 
so  that  the  description  any  vessel  which 
chanced  to  call  could  give  of  us  would  be 
useless  and  merely  lead  to  the  wildest  of  wild- 
goose  chases. 

And  this  is  how  it  was  done.  The  tapering 
masts  were  stripped  of  their  top  hamper  and 
reduced  to  the  inelegant  "stumps"  common  to 
most  steamers  ;  the  ochre  funnels  were  daubed 
black,  and  a  third — a  dummy — placed  between 
the  two  genuine  ones.  Lastly,  tlie  deck  cabins 
were  extended  in  width  to  either  bulwark,  and 
in  length  to  the  fore  and  mizzen  mast.     This 


duty  to  fill,  a  jerk  on  the  line  signalling  the 
accomplishment  of  the  task  to  those  on  the 
surface,  who  promptly  hauled  the  basket  up. 

The  excitement  caused  by  the  arrival  of  the 
first  few  cratefuls  of  oysters  was  almost  painful. 
Travers  and  I  were  eager  to  open  them  at  once. 
But  Gordon's  orders  were  strict  on  the  ])oint, 
because  of  the  damage  which  might  occur  to 
the  dainty  treasure  we  hoi)ed  eiich  contained. 
Consequently  we  controlled  our  curiosity,  and 
made  haste  to  transfer  them  to  the  stretch  of 
beach  farthest  from  the  camp — and  well  to  lee- 
ward of  it !  There  we  spread  them  out  to  rot 
in  the  blazing  sun,  when  the  shells  could  be 
displaced  with  a  touch  of  the  finger,  the  decom- 
posed flesh  taken  out  and  drojiped  into  a  bucket 
for  after  inspection,  for  many  valuable  specimens 
get  embedded   therein,  and  the  pearls,  if  any, 


liil>     ri^AKL-  I'OACllLiRS. 


599 


^e^lov•(Jd  and  placed  in  a  basin  of  clean  water. 
This  task  was  under  the  supervision  of  Travels 
and  myself.  Personally,  I  have  opened  and 
carefully  examined  six  and  a  half  score  of  shells, 
and  found  only  one  miserable,  misshapen  seed- 
ling, barely  worth  two  shillings.  But  from  the  hun- 
dred and  thirty-first  I  took,  one  nearly  the  size  of  a 
sixpence,  perfectly  round  and  full  of  iridescent 
colours,  worth  one  htindred  pounds  good  in  the 
trade,  and  one  you  would  be  asked  two  hundred 
guineas  for  at  a  West-end  jeweller's.  In  that 
same  shell  I  found  a  second  pearl  worth  eight 
[)ounds,  and  embedded  in  the  flesh  and  almost 
hidden  from  sight  a  third  worth  quite  twenty 
pounds.  It  is  this  glorious  uncertainty,  the 
knowledge  that  at  any  moment  you  may  find  a 
gem  worth  five  hundred  pounds,  which,  despite 
the  hours  of  unrewarded  toil,  gives  the  work 
such  a  fascination.  And  it  requires  a  fairly 
strong  attraction  to  induce  a  man  to  go  through 
the  dangers  and  terribly  hard  work  entailed, 
to  say  nothing  of  enduring  the  stench, 
the  horrible,  putrid  stench,  in  the  midst  of 
which  the  work  is  carried  on.  It  is  an 
odour  which  can  be  smelt  seven  or  more 
miles  away  at  sea  if  you  are  coming  up  the 
wind,  an  odour  which  clings  to  your  clothes, 
which  gets  into  your  throat  and  nostrils,  and 
remains  there  to  flavour  everything  you  eat  or 
drink,  and  which  recurs  to  you  months  afterwards 
at  the  mere  sight  of  an  oyster. 

At  the  end  of  three  weeks' unremitting  labour, 
during  which  about  three  hundred  thousand 
oysters  were  raised  and  laid  out  to  open  at  their 
unsavoury  leisure,  Travers  and  I  struck  for  a  day 
or  two's  change  of  occupation.  We  thought  we 
would  like  to  try  diving.  We  had  never  been 
"down" — in  that  sense — and  determined  to  try 
it.  Both  C'lordon  and  Saunders  tried  all  they 
knew  to  dissuade  us,  but  we  were  not  to  be 
moved.  The  company  of  live  oysters,  we  said, 
could  not  be  any  worse  than  that  of  their  defunct 
relatives. 

It  took  us  twenty  minutes  to  get  into  full 
diving  kit.  As  soon  as  the  breathing  tubes 
were  tested,  the  leaded  rope  ladder  adjusted, 
and  the  additional  security  of  a  life  -  line 
fastened  round  our  waists,  we  commenced  the 
descent.  Aly  first  sensations  were  weird  in  the 
extreme — for  all  the  world  similar  to  the  one 
experienced  when  a  lift  commences  a  ra[)id  and 
unexpected  ii\\\.  1  could  have  sworn  that  some 
powerful  force  was  trying  to  push  my  feet  up 
through  my  body  and  out  at  the  top  of  my  head  ! 
Then  the  latter  commenced  to  buzz  and  sing, 
and  felt  as  if  it  would  s[)lit  open.  And  I  won- 
dered what  woukl  happen  if  it  did  !  Also  I 
caught  myself  thinking  quite  kindly  of  the 
odoriferous    friends    I    had    left    above    on    the 


beach.  I  also  decided  that  though  the  earth 
and  air  and  sea  and  all  that  in  them  is  might 
belong  to  man,  the  bed  of  a  lagoon  was  no  place 
for  him. 

As  I  got  lower  the  feeling  of  pressure  from 
below  seemed  to  get  on  top  of  me  as  well  as 
surround  me  on  all  sides.  But  I  mentally  resolved 
that,  even  if  I  got  flattened  out  to  a  pancake  or 
exploded,  1  would  go  as  far  as  the  bottom,  fill 
my  crate,  return  to  the  surface,  and  casually 
mention  that  I  didn't  see  much  sport  in  diving, 
and  rather  preferred  the  handling  of  dead  to 
live  oysters.  When  I  did  touch  bottom,  how- 
ever, there  was  a  fresh  difficulty  to  overcome  — 
I  couldn't  keep  my  feet  down  without  crouching 
and  bending  my  knees.  The  instant  I  stood 
erect,  first  one  leg  and  then  another  and  then 
both  together  would  flutter  off  the  bed  and 
wave  aimlessly  about.  I  seemed  to  have  lost 
all  control  over  them,  and  I  begc'^n  to  wonder 
whether  diving  and  an  intimate  association  witii 
deceased  oysters  could  bring  on  a  sudden  attack 
of  locomotor  ataxy.  I  have  since  discovered 
that  I  merely  lacked  sufficient  lead  in  my 
boots. 

Having  switched  on  the  electric  light  attached 
to  my  helmet  I  looked  round  for  Travers.  AH 
I  could  see  at  first  was  an  opaque  glimmer, 
pale  green  in  hue  and  as  easy  to  pierce  as  a  sea 
fog.  Everything  seemed  distorted,  unreal,  and 
out  of  proportion,  and  things  that  appeared  near 
enough  to  touch  got  farther  away  as  they  were 
approached.  The  upturned,  tapering  seaweed 
had  the  staggers  badly,  and  even  the  firmly- 
rooted  spirals  of  coral  seemed  to  have  the  ague 
in  an  acute  form.  Travers,  when  I  at  laU 
caught  sight  of  him,  looming  up  on  my  right, 
appeared  of  gigantic  size,  and  in  anything  but  a 
sober  condition. 

After  the  first  attempt  at  verbal  utterance  I 
talked  to  him  in  pantomime.  The  din  my 
voice  raised  in  the  helmet  and  the  vibrations  it 
set  up  nearly  deafened  and  stunned  me.  l-Vom 
the  signs  Travers  made  I  gathered  that  he,  too, 
was  anxious  to  return  to  the  upper  world. 
Seemingly  we  were  at  one  as  to  going  up  with 
full  crates,  for  together  we  made  a  vigorou-; 
attack  upon  the  beds,  and  by  one  means  and 
another  managed  to  detach  sufficient  for  our 
ends.  And  how  gladly  I  gave  the  signal  to 
hoist  up  !  I  got  to  the  foot  of  the  ladder  some- 
how and  grip[)ed  it  hard,  paused  for  an  insUint, 
and  then  commenced  to  ascend.  But  the 
labour,  the  sickening  dread  and  horror  of  it  ! 
An  irresistible  force  seemed  to  be  holding  me 
back  ;  my  head  felt  as  if  it  must  burst ;  lights 
danced  before  my  eyes  ;  the  ladder  seemed  to 
sink  under  me  and  soft  music  sounded  in  my 
ears  ;  then  a  feeling  of  "  don't  care  "  came  over 


6oo 


THE    WIDE    WOREl)    ^L\GAZINE. 


nic,   and    1   thought   how  nice  a   few  moments' 
sleep  would  be— only  a  few,  just  a 

When  I  came  to  my  senses  I  was  lying  on 
my  back  on  the  raft,  feeling  sore  all  over— I  was 
the  centre  of  an  anxious  group.  Gordon  and 
Saunders  were  kneeling  on  either  side  alternately 
rubbing  and  pounding  me,  throwing  in  a 
little  passive  mo\ement  by  way  of  variety. 
"  Near  squeak,  old  man,  but  you'll  do  now," 
said  Saunders. 

"Do?"  I 
echoed.  "Of 
course  I'll  do. 
What  the  dickens 
is  all  the  fuss 
about  ? " 

"Why,  about 
the  breathing 
tube.  It  fouled 
somehow,  and 
when  you  fell  from 
the  ladder  you 
broke  it  altogether 
and  were  nearly 
suffocated.  If  it 
hadn't  been  for 
I  he  life-line  and 
these  islanders 
\()U  would  have 
died,"  (jordon 
explained. 

"Great  Scot  ! 
That's  why  I  felt 
so  queer,  I  sup- 
pose," I  said.  "  I 
thought  they  were 
part  of  the  busi- 
ness, those  beastly 
sensations  and 
fireworks.  Ij  u  t 
I  ravers  — where's 
old  Jack  ?  Is  he 
all  right?" 

"kight  as  rain, 
responded  that  in- 
dividual, heartily  ; 
'and  now  I  vote 
wc  go  ashore. 
NVe're  not  cut  out 
lor     divers,      I'm 

afraid       I'm    shaking   as    if     I    had    the    ague, 
and  my  tube  didn't  foul." 

"Travers,"  1  .said,  sfjlemnly,  as  we  were  rowed 
ashore,  "I  propose  we  stick  to  the  decom- 
posed side  of  this  business.  It  may  not  be 
exactly  savoury,  Init " 

"Just  so!"  laughed  Traver.s.  "  Im  with 
you  there.  We'll  leave  the  diving  racket  to 
the  heathen."     And  we  did  so  from  that  day. 


I    UAb    Tllli   CENIKIi   OK    AN    ANXKJUm 


The  ensuing  six  weeks  saw  the  mute  promis- 
ing "beds"  stripped  clean,  though  there  was 
still  a  large  area  to  be  fished.  Our  haul  of 
pearls  was  a  splendid  one,  and  beyond  our 
wildest  dreams.  They  were  of  ail  shapes  and 
sizes,  from  the  tiny  seedling  to  the  lordly  gem 
of  much  weight  and  many  lustrous  hues,  which 
Gordon  valued  at  one  thousand  pounds!  There 
was    No.    I    parcel  containing  a  hundred    and 

seventy-three 
matched  sjjeci- 
m  ens  w  o  i- 1  h  a 
hundred  pounds 
apiece;  No.  2 
containing  fifty- 
three  valued  at 
forty  to  forty-five 
pounds  each  ;  and 
No.  3  about  seven 
hundred,  calcula- 
ted to  fetch  three 
thousand  pounds 
the  parcel.  No.  4 
was  made  up  of 
two  thousand  eight 
hundred  and  forty 
pearls,  worth  a 
similar  amount, 
and  No.  5,  the 
ruck  of  the  collec- 
tion, was  estima- 
ted to  realize 
about  one  thou- 
sand pounds — 
roughly,  twenty  - 
seven  thousand 
pounds  in  all.  Ihe 
night  the  tally  was 
completed  we  re- 
joiced greatly. 
Then  1  looked  at 
Gordon  and  pro- 
posed an  imme- 
diate departure. 
But  he  had  located 
a  wonderful  bed 
of  "ancients  "  and 
was  eager  for  an 
additional  week, 
suggesting  that  as 
we  were  in  a  hurry  the  cauldrons  could  be 
substituted  for  the  rotting  process.  "Very 
well,"  I  rei)lied,  though  I  felt  an  unaccount- 
able dread  at  prolonging  our  visit.  "If  you 
say  stay  we'll  do  so,  but  the  best  like  the 
worst  of  luck  must  turn,  and  I  for  one  want 
to  be  miles  away  before  it  turns  into  a  Japanese 
gunboat." 


All  serene,"  laughed  (Jordon  ; 


we'll  risk  it 


THE     l'EARl,-P(JACHEkS. 


6or 


for  another  week  and  then  quit."     And  we  did 
so,  to  my  bitter  regret. 

Those  "  ancients  "  yielded  a  fabulously  rich 
harvest,  and  e\en  my  fears  fled  at  the  sight 
of  some  of  the  magnificent  pearls  obtained. 
But  all  the  same  I  got  leave  to  remove  most  of 
our  effects  on  board  the  Swa/Iow  ready  for 
instant  flight.  Saunders  backed  me  up  in  this, 
and  got  the  yacht  ready  for  a  quick  departure, 
nor  was  he  content  unless  she  rode  with  a 
spring  on  her 
cable  and  banked 
fires.  The  guns, 
too,    were    raised 


from  the  hold  and 
got  in  position. 

Our  intuitive 
dread  of  trouble 
was  soon  justified. 
W'e  were  to  have 
knocked  off  "fish- 
ing"  on  the 
Friday  and  sailed 
on  the  foUowmg 
day.  At  five  on 
Thursday  our 
"  look  -  out  "  on 
the  higher  hill 
reported  a  smoke 
patch  to  the 
north  '  west  and 
making  straight 
for  the  island  — 
that  is,  approach- 
ing the  opposite 
side  to  that  on 
which  the  Swu/- 
/o7v  lay. 

In  an  instant 
all  was  flurry  and 
e  xc  i  t  e  m  e  n  t,  a 
common  instinct 
jircjiiipting  every- 
one to  seize  the 
most  valuable  of 
their  belongings 
and  make  for  the 
shore.  But  Gor- 
don called  a  halt, 
dispatched  Saun- 
ders to  the  hill-to[), 
task.  Ten  minutes 
handkerchief  thrice. 


A  I.I.    mi;  I  N 


and  gave  each  of  us   our 
later  Saunders  fluttered  his 


get  everything  on  board,  and  we  knew  that  the 
gunboat  might  heave  in  sight  at  any  instant 
round  either  end  of  the  island.  If  she  did  so 
before  we  negotiated  the  passage  of  the  outer 
reef  we  should  be  trapped  and  either  have  to 
make  a  dash  for  it  or  fight.  4*assive  surrender 
never  entered  our  heads,  for  tiiere  was  no  hope 
of  a  fair  trial  where  the  rights  of  the  case  could 
have  been  threshed  out — only  the  certainty  of 
a  secret  and  life-long  imprisonment.     We  vowed 

to  put  up  a  fierce 
fight  before  that 
came  to  pass. 

As  Gordon, 
Travers,  and  I 
stepped  on  board 
Saunders,  who 
had  [)receded  us, 
roared  from  the 
bridge  : — 

"Cast  loose 
that  boat  there — 
no  time  to  hoist 
her  in.  All  ready 
for'ard?" 

"Aye,  aye,  sir." 
"  Then    let    go 
all." 

There  were  a 
rattle  and  a  splash 
as  the  cable 
slipped  through 
the  hawse  -  pipe. 
The  engine-room 
bell  tinkled 
sharply  and  al- 
most immediately 
we  were  under 
way.  Just  as  we 
g(jt  into  our  stride 
the  gunboat  ap- 
peared round  the 
northern  ex- 
tremity of  the 
island,  but  inside 
and  not  outside 
the  reef  as  we  ex- 
pected. The  in- 
stant she  sighted 
us  up  went  the 
lay  to,"  emphasized  by  a  blank 
Saunders's    language    was    a    trifle 


llltK     Ul.l    K. 


signa 


■'  A  Jap,  by  all  that's  unlucky  ! "  exclaimed 
Gordon.  "  Now,  smartly,  my  lads,  but  no 
scrambling  and  no  panic  !  "  and  he  tapped  the 
butt  of  his  revolver  significantly.  In  another 
ten  minutes  all  was  finished  and  we  were  at 
the  landing-place.      It  took    three   journeys    to 

Vol.  X.— 76. 


to 
cartridge. 

profane,  but  very  much  to  the  point,  as  he 
signalled  for  forced  draught,  and  also  ordered 
our  forward  gun  crew  to  stand  by  the  weapon. 
The  men  responded  with  eager  alacrity. 

The  passage  lay  about  midway  between  the 


two   vessels,  each   now 


racing   its  hardest,  and 


though  we  were  the  faster  the  distance  both  had 


6o2 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


to  traverse  was  so  short  that  the  result  would  be 
a  riear  thing— a  very  near  thing.  I  have  gone 
through  one  or  two  exciting  episodes  during  my 
short  career,  but  never  through  such  a  nerve- 
racking  one  as  that.  The  mad  bounding  of  the 
Sivalbw  under  the  impetus  of  forced  draught, 
the  quivering  decks,  the  incessant  roar  and  whirr 
of  the  machinery,  the  erstwhile  placid  waters 
roaring  and  seething  past  in  clouds  of  spray  and 
foam,  the  speed-made  wind  of  our  reckless  dash 
for  freedom,  the  maddening  mental  repetition 
of  the  only  thought  the  brain  was  capable  of 
forming— "Shall  we  do  it?"  "Shall  we  do 
it  ?  "—worked  me  up  to  such  a  pitch  of 
excitement  and  mental  exaltation  that  I  think 
I  would  have  dared  or  done  anything. 


masks  to  our  identity— and  the  boats  cut  and 
splintered  by  the  leaden  hail. 

Our  blood  was  thoroughly  up  by  this  time. 
They  had  asked  for  a  light  and  they  should 
have  one. 

Another  shell,  timed  to  a  second,  and  poor 
Bill  Andrews  fell  as  he  was  about  to  fire  our 
forward  Hotchkiss.  At  a  glance  and  a  nod 
from  Saunders  I  sprang  from  the  bridge  and 
took  his  place. 

I  carefully  trained  the  gun  on  their  forward 
quick-firer,  aiming  at  the  mechanism  and  legs 
exposed  below  its  shield.  The  Hotchkiss  is  a 
dainty  weapon  and'  an  accurate  one,  and  can 
pump  out  death  and  destruction  quicker  than 
any  gun  I  know.      In   thirty  seconds  their  deck 


I 


"l    CAE<KFULl.V   TKAINLU    THE   GUN    ON    THEIR    I'ORWAHD   QUICK-FIRER." 


I'hc  supreme  moment  of  all,  however,  came 
when  Saunders  shouted:  "Look  out,  there! 
Lie  down  all ;  they're  training  their  forward  gun 
upon  us." 

Almost  before  we  could  draw  breath  there 
was  a  dull  report  and  a  shell  burst  over  the 
bridge.  Then  another  and  another  came  in 
rapid  succession,  and  a  fourth  which  carried 
away  our  dummy  funnel.  A  reckless  laugh, 
ending  in  a  cheer,  went  up  from  us  all  as  it 
ioj)[)led  over  the  side.  The  Japs  were  within 
twelve  hundred  yards  now,  and  opened  fire  with 
rifles  and  machine  guns.  In  an  instant  our 
painty  bulwarks  were  full  of  clean-drilled  holes, 
and  our  det  k   furniture— including   the  canvas 


forward  was  in  a  worse  mess  than  ours,  their 
gun  out  of  action,  and  poor  Andrews  paid  fot 
six-fold.  Then  I  depressed  the  gun  and  ripped 
open  a  few  feet  of  the  gunboat's  bow-plates  as 
near  the  water-line  as  possible,  each  shot  as  it 
told  being  wildly  cheered  by  our  men.  'I'he 
Jap  was  barely  three  hundred  yards  from  tlie 
passage  now,  we  nearly  two  hundred.  But  our 
position  was  the  better,  inasmuch  as  the  passage 
through  the  reef  was  in  a  line  with  the  course 
we  had  to  steer  for  the  open  sea.  \\'ith  the 
gunboat  it  was  just  the  reverse ;  they  would 
have  to  reduce  speed  and  make  a  sweeping 
curve  three  parts  of  a  circle  in  extent  before  they 
could  enter  and  follow.     As  we  darted  into  the 


ii: 


I'KAKl.    I'UACllLRS. 


60: 


opening  Saunders  shouted,  "Quick!  The  after 
gun  is  all  clear  ;  pump  it  into  her  amidships  and 
low  down  as  she  slackens  to  make  her  turn." 

I  sprang  aft  in  a  dozen  bounds.  If  I  could 
only  put  a  stream  of  chilled  steel  bolts  into  her 
machinery  while  she  was  broadside-on  we  were 
saved. 

Just  as  I  was  on  the  point  of  firing,  however, 
an  unlooked-for  catastrophe  happened.  The 
gunboat  struck  with  terrific  force  on  a  sub- 
merged portion  of 
the  inner  reef, 
up  w  h  i  c  h  h  e  r 
momentum  car- 
ried her  for  a  dis- 
tance of  thirty  feet. 
There  she  stuck, 
firm  as  a  rock 
and  as  harmless 
as  a  stingless 
snake,  her  masts 
and  funnels  gone 
by  the  board,  her 
decks  split,  and 
half  her  bottom 
torn  away.  On 
seeing  this  we  re- 
versed our  engines 
and  brought  up 
short,  to  save  what 
lives  we  could 
should  she  slip 
back  and  founder. 
Our  intentions 
were  misunder- 
stood, for,  from 
the  only  workable 
gun  left,  the 
quick-firer  amid- 
shi[)s,  the  plucky 
little  gunboat 
belched  out  a  hail 
of  shell.  We  re- 
plied to  this  by 
dipping  our  flag 
three  times  in 
ironical  salute, 
though  we  cheered 

her  gallant  commander  for  the  i)luck  and  spirit 
he  had  shown. 

Then,  seeing  that  the  Japs  were  in  no  imme- 
diate danger,  we  resumed  our  course  at  full 
speed,  bringing  up  that  night  at  a  small  island 
marked  on  the'  chart  as  possessing  a  good 
anchorage.  At  daybreak  all  hands  were  engaged 
in  obliterating  the  tell-tale  marks  of  conflict. 
The  remnants  of  the  canvas  screens  were  pitched 
overboard,  the  bulwarks  plugged  and  patched, 
the  shivered  glass  of  the   deck-cabins  replaced, 


WK    KAN    Ul'   THE   ST.\Kb   A.NU   STKilliS   AT  THE    Ml 


the  torn  deck  planks  relaid,  the  top-masts  and 
square  yards  of  the  foremast  replaced,  and 
finally  six  large  drums  of  while  paint  were 
brought  up  from  the  hold  —  to  which  the 
Hotchkiss,  etc.,  were  now  relegated — and  the 
vessel  was  painted  while  throughout.  Also  her 
name  was  changed  lo  the  Seagull.  On  the 
morning  of  the  third  day  we  weighed  anchor 
and  steered  for  Gordon's  Isle.  Towards  even- 
ing we  sighted  a  smoke  patch  astern.     As  we 

were  well  off  the 
beaten  track  of 
liners  and  freight 
boats,  and  even 
of  "  tramps,"  the 
discovery  caused 
no  little  excite- 
ment and  specula- 
tion. The  stranger 
lay  low  in  the 
water  and  was 
exceptionally  fast. 
For  a  second  I 
caught  myself 
wondering 
whether  a  miracle 
had  iiappened, 
and  if  it  could 
be  the  gunboat. 
Saunders  smiled 
grimly  at  the  idea. 
"  Elswick  and  all 
its  staff  could  not 
repair  her  under 
a  month,  if  at  all," 
he  said.  He  tiien 
went  aloft,  and 
in  five  minutes 
joined  us  again 
on  the  bridge,  ex- 
claiming: "An- 
other gunboat — a 
Jap,  too  —  and 
twin-sister  of  the 
other.  They're 
evidently  hunting 
in  couples.  I 
think  we  had 
better  edge  down  and  speak  her.  There's  no 
chance  of  being  recognised  in  our  new  guise," 
he  concluded,  with  a  broad  grin. 

So  we  took  his  advice,  considering  audacity 
the  better  policy.  Presently  the  gunboat  sighted 
us,  showed  her  ensign,  and  signalled  her  desire 
to  speak.  By  way  of  reply  we  ran  up  the 
Stars  and  Stripes  at  the  mizzen  and  the  red 
ensign  at  the  fore.  Then  the  signallers  got  to 
work,  and  we  learned  that  she  was  the  Japcinese 
torpedo-gunboat  Tokio,  and  she  that  we  were 


6o4 


THE    WIDE    WOREI)    ALKiAZINE. 


the  American-owned  Seagull,  of  'Frisco— hence 
our  hoisting   of  the  American  flag— hired    by 

Lord  A and  friends  for  a  trip  round  the 

world.  Then  we  asked  permission  to  send  a 
boat  on  board.  They  were  dehghted  at  the 
idea.  Our  reception  was  a  cordial  one.  We 
learned  that  the  Tokio  was  in  search  of  a  rascally 
pearl-poacher,  which  had  not  only  raided  their 
richest  preserve,  but  had  fired  upon  and  disabled 
a  sister-boat.  We  looked  and  professed  pro- 
found astonishment.  What  kind  of  vessel  had 
committed  this  outrage  ?  we  asked.  Was  she  a 
Chinese  pirate-junk  ?  No ;  she  was  neither 
Chinese  nor  a  pirate,  but  a  steamer,  rigged  as  a 
fore  and  aft  schooner,  painted  grey,  with  three 
yellow  funnels — one  of  which  would  now  be 
missing.  Also  her  deck  cabins  extended  from 
mast  to  mast  (good  old  canvas  screens  !)  and 
concealed  whole  batteries  of  quick  -  firing 
guns.  Had  we  seen  such  a  boat  ?  Not 
much,  as  you  can  guess.  ]5ut  it  didn't  matter. 
They  knew  her  hiding-place  and .  where  she 
kept  her  secret  store  of  coals.  That  made 
us  jump  a  little ;  but  we  smiled  amiably. 
As  the  Tokio  was  going  straight  to  the  poachers' 
private  coaling-station,  would  we  be  good  enough 
to  report  what  we  had  heard  to  the  first  Japanese 
vessel  we  met  and  cable  a  message  for  him  at 
the  first  port  we  touched  at  ?  Of  course  we 
would.  Then  we  said  a  cordial  "  Good-bye  ! " 
and  hastened  on  board  the  yacht.  We  were  too 
short  of  coal  to  make  the  run  to  'Erisco,  and 
(jordon's  Isle  was  now  no  place  for  us.  There- 
fore we  determined  on  a  bold  stroke  :  we  would 
go  straight  into  the  lion's  mouth — Yokohama — 
and  deliver  the  message  personally.  The  grim 
audacity  of  the  joke  tickled  our  imaginations 
immensely. 

As  soon  as  the  Jap  was  out  of  sight,  there- 
fore, we  altered  our  course,  and  two  days  later 
-  jubikmt,  but  on  the  tiptoe  of  excitement — 
reached  our  destination  with  barely  a  ton  of 
coal  in  our  bunkers.  The  danger  of  our  ven- 
ture was  great.  As  they  had  learned  of  the 
island  they  might  have  learned  more—enough 
lo  warrant  a  search,  and  that  meant  ruin. 
Therefore  we  were  glad  to  see  a  Ikitish  man-o'- 
war  in  the  harbour ;  her  presence  guaranteed  us 


fair  play  at  least.  Slowly  and  demurely  and  as  if 
such  a  thing  as  danger  did  not  exist,  we  pro- 
ceeded to  a  convenient  spot  and  dropped 
anchor.  Then  we  delivered  our  message  and 
incidentally  mentioned  our  shortage  of  coal. 
As  much  smokeless  as  we  could  carry  was 
instantly  placed  at  our  disposal,  and  we  had  the 
greatest  difficulty  in  making  them  accept  pay- 
ment for  it.  They  took  it  at  last,  however,  and 
we  felt  happier.  About  noon  a  grimy  dinghy 
pulled  alongside,  and  the  gruff  tones  of  Sandy 
MacGregor  were  heard  inquiring  if  Archie 
Gordon  were  on  board.  We  had  the  worthy 
Scot  in  the  cabin  in  a  trice.  Erom  him  we 
learned  that  as  he  was  discharging  the  last  ton  of 
coal  at  Gordon's  Isle  the  Tokio  had  appeared 
on  the  scene  and  demanded  his  reason  for  un- 
loading at  an  uninhabited  island.  Therefore 
MacGregor  had  drawn  upon  his  imagination 
for  a  reason.  But  the  Jap  was  still  suspicious, 
having  got  a  hint  from  Sydney  that  a  poach- 
ing expedition  was  on  foot.  "  But  you've 
been  there  and  heard  all  this  from  your  agent," 
concluded  Sandy. 

"Not  much,"  laughed -Gordon  ;  "we  met  the 
Tokio  half-way  there  while  in  our  present  guise, 
and  were  regaled  with  a  mutilated  account  of 
our  doings  and  of  the  '  accident '  to  her  sister- 
boat.  Of  course,  we  sympathized  and  volun- 
teered to  act  as  her  messenger,  while  she  pro- 
ceeded on  a  lone  hand  effort  to  trap  the  raiders 
— and  here  we  are,  and  with  full  bunkers,  too." 

We  sailed  that  night,  not  caring  to  take  any 
further  risks  from  delay.  We  did  not  know 
what  might  happen  from  hour  to  hour. 

A  week  later  we  entered  the  Golden  Gates 
and  in  a  couple  of  hours  were  in  'Erisco.  The 
following  day  our  party  broke  up.  Gordon  and 
Saunders  were  to  stay  and  dispose  of  our  spoils  ; 
Travers  and  I  to  lounge  across  America  to  New 
York.  Two  days  after  our  arrival  at  the  latter 
city  I  received  the  following  wire  :  "  All  sold. 
Net  profits  ^12,800  each." 

"  Travers,"  I  exclaimed,  joyfully,  as  I  tossed 
the  telegram  across  to  him,  "  there's  more  in 
oysters  than  I  thought." 

With  which  he  agreed. 


Elephant  Fights  in  India. 

Bv  Herbert  Lyndon. 

It  will  come  as  a  surprise  to  many  people  to  know  that  elephant  fights    still   take  place  in    India.     By 

special    invitation    of  the    Maharajah    of   Baroda    the    author   was   present    at   one   of    these   remarkable 

functions.     He  illustrates  his  description  with  a  set  of  very  striking  photographs. 


.\NV  will  doubtless  be  surprised  lo 
Icarii  that  the  historic  "  sport "  of 
elephant  fighting  survives  in  the 
twentieth  century,  and  lives,  like  the 
more  brutal  and  offensive  bull  fight- 
ing, in  this  year  of  grace  1903.  No  fewer  than 
three  of  these  elephant  fights  were  witnessed  by 
the  present  writer  at  the  beginning  of  the  year 
1 90 1  at  Baroda,  the  capital  of  the  State  of  that 
name  in  India,  and,  as  will  be  presently  de- 
scribed, the  sight  was  not  at  all  a  disagreeable 
one.  In  this  respect,  as  in  many  others,  it  is  in 
strong  contrast  to  the  revolting  and  degrading 
bull  fighting  spectacles  so  common  in  Spain 
to-day. 

The  elephant  fights  take  place  in  a  large 
rectangular  arena  called  the  Haghuroo,  enclosed 
by  solid  brick  walls  about  six  feet  thick,  having 
openings  every  twenty  yards  or  so,  just  large 
enough  for  a  man  to  run  through. 

Our  first  illustration  shows  an  elephant 
being  brought  into  the  arena,  ridden  by 
hi.'?     mahout    and     surrounded    by    elephanta- 


dors,  coolies,  etc.,  watched  by  eager  throngs 
of  natives.  The  arena  itself  is  two  hundred 
yards  long  and  one  hundred  yards  wide, 
according  to  my  measurement.  It  has  wide 
entrances  at  either  end.  These  can  be 
closed  by  means  of  large  square  .sliding  baulks 
of  timber,  three  to  each  entrance,  which 
are  drawn  horizontally  across  from  one  slot  to 
another.  The  baulks  of  timber,  which  can  be 
seen  in  our  illustration  just  above  the  head  of 
the  mahout,  are  about  five  feet  apart  and 
require  many  coolies  to  move  them,  but  when 
drawn  across  prevent  an  elephant  escaping  from 
the  arena  when  frightened  or  pursued  by  a 
too-powerful  opponent. 

On  the  first  occasion  on  which  I  saw  one  of 
these  remarkable  fights  we  received  invitations 
from  His  Highness  the  Maharajah  Oaekwar 
Sahib  (to  give  him  his  full  title),  with  an  inti- 
mation that  the  proceedings  would  begin  at 
four  o'clock  [)unctually,  after  which  hour  it 
would  be  difficult  to  get  to  one's  seat.  As  we 
drove  up  to  the  pavilion  or  grand  stand,  which 


J  loiii  a 


[  I  'lu'to. 


6o6 


THE    WIDK    WORM)     MAO  A/ INK. 


we  did  by  entering  the  arena  at  the  southern 
end  and  driving  straight  down  and  across  its 
centre,  we  were  courteously  shown  to  our  seats 
by  His  Highness's  master  of  ceremonies,  an 
official  in  picturesque  costume  and  coloured 
pugri.  Every  point  of  vantage  round  the  vast 
are^na  was  occupied  by  natives,  the  tops  of  the 
walls  were  filled  with  a  closely  packed  mass  of 
human  beings,  mostly  in  white  with  brightly- 
coloured  turbans,  and  the  trees  and  houses 
outside  were  likewise  densely  crowded,  besides 
which  there  was  a  row  of  female  elephants,  with 
many  natives  on  their  backs,  standing  on  a 
mound  overlooking  the  arena  just  outside  the 
walls  op[)osite  the  grand  stand.     I  was  informed 


elephants  had  reached  u\)  with  tlicir  trunks  and 
pulled  down  and  trampled  on  members  of  the 
audience,  the  walls  were  heightened  and  standing 
room  made  on  the  farther  sides  of  them. 

Before  proceeding  to  describe  the  entertain- 
ment provided  for  us— -which,  by  the  way,  H.H. 
the  Gaekwar  informed  us  was  identically  the 
same  as  was  arranged  for  our  present  King  on 
the  occasion  of  his  visiting  Baroda  during  his 
tour  in  India  when  Prince  of  Wales — I  must 
mention  that  in  the  centre  of  the  arena,  at 
about  forty  yards  distance  from  either  end,  is  a 
circular  brick  erection. 

This  is  shown  in  our  second  illustration.  The 
head  of  the  elephant  stables  and  director  of  the 


I  III.    ;jII'l-.C10H    Oh    nih    llijHIb   (on     lilL    ri-AllUKM     lu    nil.    LKFl)   SLri'.KlN TICNDS    THE    1-..NTK.\:.CE   OP    'IHE   SECOND    KI.E1MIA\1. 

From  a  Photo. 


that  these  she-elephants  very  much  enjoy  watch- 
ing the  figiits. 

The  sigiit  was  indeed  a  fine  one.  The 
brilliantly-coloured  pugris  and  sashes  of  the 
crowds  of  natives  and  their  white  dresses 
stood  out  boldly  in  the  bright  sunlight  against  a 
l>ackground  of  bright  green  trees  and  blue  sky. 

In  former  days,  before  the  walls  were  raised, 
the  natives  clustered  tiiickly  on  their  tops,  which, 
being  flat,  afforded  most  advantageous  ])ositions 
from  which  to  view  the  sport.  In  order  to  obtain 
these  coveted  positions  people  would  go  down 
early  in  the  morning  and  spread  brilliantly- 
coloured  rugs  on  the  top  of  the  walls,  which 
action  was  acknowledged  as  reserving  the  space 
so  covered,  but  as  on  one  or  two  occasions  the 


fights,  dressed  in  white,  with  a  European  riding 
whip  in  his  hand,  is  seen  standing  on  this 
erection,  and  directing  the  operation  of  bring- 
ing the  second  elephant  into  the  arena.  At  the 
other  end  of  the  arena  is  another  building 
about  ten  or  twelve  feet  high,  and  of  the  same 
diameter  as  the  first,  but  it  is  composed  of  a 
thick  circular  wall,  w'ith  openings  in  it  similar  to 
those  in  the  outer  walls,  already  described.  The 
use  of  these  structures  will  be  seen  farther  on. 

The  grand  stand,  on  which  we  fou'id  our- 
selves, was  on  the  western  side  of  the  rectangular 
arena  and  towards  the  northern  end  of  it, 
l)laced  in  this  position  in  order  to  be  in  the 
shade  from  the  hot  afternoon  sun.  It  was  a 
building  some   thirty   yards    long   by  ten   wide, 


i-J.EPllAM      IKiiliS     IN     INDIA. 


607 


jutting  out  into  the  arena,  and  resembling  in 
many  respects  a  grand  stand  on  an  Englisli 
racecourse.  The  lower  part  was  bricked  up  for 
about  twenty  feet  with  a  strong  wall,  having 
openings  into  it  like  the  other  walls  of  the  arena. 
The  first  story  had  chairs,  etc.,  arrangt;d  on  it, 
the  next  story  being  supported  by  columns,  and 
the  third  story  liad  windows  covered  with  reed 
mats,  through  which  the  ladies  and  women  of 
the  Court  could  witness  the  sports  in  the  arena 
without  themselves  being  seen.  This  story  had, 
of  course,  a  private  entrance,  so  that  the  women 
could  get  to  their  places  without  being  seen  ; 
they  came  from  their  apartments  in  the  old 
palace  at  the  back,  and  we  should  not  have 
been  aware  of  their  presence  had  we  not  been 
told  that  they  were  there. 

The  front  row  of  seats  on  the  grand  tier  was 
composed  of  arm-chairs  for  the  European  guests, 
with  a  sofa  in  the  centre  for  His  Highness  and 
his  children,  or  any  of  his  guests  whom,  he 
might  from  time  to  time  invite  to  sit  and 
converse  with  him. 

Behind  were  seated  his  nobles  and  officials 
of  state,  a  low,  wooden  balustrade  being  in 
front  of  all.  Servants  fanned  the  Maharajah 
with  large  hand  punkahs  during  the  whole  of 
the  entertainment,  as,  although  it  was  only  the 


end  of  January  and  the  Indian  winter,  the  days 
were  ([uite  hot,  while  tiie  nights  and  early  morn- 
ings were  often  cold.  On  the  present  occasion 
His  Highness  was  accompanied  by  three  young 
Princes  and  a  daughter  of  ten  years  ;  the  eldest 
of  the  Princes  is  about  seventeen,  and  has 
recently  been  entered  at  O.xford  University. 

A  type  written  programme  was  handed  to 
each  guest.  It  was  in  English,  and  ran  as 
follows : — 

sr'(jRTs  IN  thl: 

1.  Parrots' pcrfi.Tmance. . 

2.  Sword  Fijjhts.  . 

3.  Wrestling 

4.  Ram  and  Huflfa'.o  Fights 

5.  Elephant  Fights 
-'\  II(-)rse  pursued  by  an  Elephant  6.45    ,, 

I  will  not  delay  with  an  account  of  the  first 
four  items  on  the  programme,  but  proceed  at 
once  to  the  piece  de  resistance — the  elephant 
fight.  Before  describing  the  actual  fight  it 
will,  perhaps,  be  advisable  to  explain  that  the 
elephants  belonging  to  the  Maharajah  are  very 
carefully  trained  to  fight  in  a  small  arena  near 
the  elephant  stables,  which  are  some  distance 
off,  great  care  and  skill  being  bestowed  on  their 
teaching,  the  methods  used  being  the  result  of 
years,  if  not  centuries,  of  experience. 

Elephants  are  only  used  for  fighting  when  in 


ARENA. 
4        to  4. 15  p.m. 
4.15  ,,  4.30    ,, 
4-3'^  ..   530    .. 
5-30..   5-45    >. 
5-45  ..  6.45    ,, 


"  THEV   WERE    LED    INTO   THE    ARENA    WITH    THE    FOREFEET   CHAINEO   TOGETHER    ANU   THEIR    HIND    FEET   SECURED    HV   STRONr, 

From  a]  iro.n  chains  hei.d  nv  <,\v.-  ■■!    r.i.ii.iES."  \f^0lo. 


6o8 


THE    WIDE    ^VOREU    MAGAZLn^E. 


,1,  0..1... 


iljLUY-l.OiJKING    BRUTES    KUN    TOWARDS    EACH    OTHER    RAHIDI.V 

From  a  Photo. 


a  State  of  "  musth,"  which  is  a  semi-mad  state 
male  elephants  experience  about  once  a  year, 
and  which  lasts  for  a  period  of,  perhaps,  three 
or  four  months,  and  this  condition  can  be 
intensified  or  even  induced  by  a  special  diet. 
'I'he  keeping  of  elephants  is  at  all  times  an 
expensive  luxury,  even  in  India,  where  labour  is 
so  cheap  as  to  be  almost  costless  ;  but  each 
animal  requires  three  or  four  attendants  besides 
his  mahout,  such  as  grass-cutters,  water-carriers, 
etc.,  so  that  each  elephant  costs  probably  ^^200 
a  year  to  keep.  At  present  the  Baroda  State 
owns  about  forty  of  these  interesting  animals, 
but  in  tlie  time  of  the  previous  Gaekwar, 
Kiiundi  Rao,  there  were  as  many  as  two 
hundred  beasts  in  the  stables.  The  females  are 
kept  for  "shikar"  or  hunting  purposes,  and  both 
.sexes  are  used  for  riding  in  processions,  wed- 
dings, and  similar  occasions.  Some  few  male 
elephants  will  always  fight  whether  in  a  state  of 
"  musth  "  or  not,  but  these  are  useless  for  any 
other  purpose,  and  are  at  all  times  very  difficult 
to  manage  and  dangerous  to  their  keepers  and 
all  who  go  near  them. 


The  two  elephants  selected  to  fight  on  the 
present  occasion  were  fine  tuskers,  the  one 
named  Kanaya  and  the  other  Ganesh  Guj. 
The  former  was  thirty-two  years  old  and  eiglit 
feet  nine  inches  high  at  the  withers,  and  was 
one  of  those  elephants  that  will  fight  at  any 
time,  although  more  fierce  when  "  musth." 

Ganesh  (iuj,  or  the  "wise  fighter,"  was  forty- 
two  years  old  and  eight  feet  five  inches  high, 
and  they  were  both  about  ten  feet  long  from  the 
top  of  their  foreheads  to  the  root  of  the  tail. 
Kanaya  cost  five  thousand  nine  hundred  and 
fifty  rupees  and  Ganesh  Guj  four  thousand 
rupees,  but  when  and  where  these  prices  were 
paid  I  did  not  learn  ;  perhaps  many  years  ago. 
They  were  led  into  the  arena  with  the  fore-feet 
chained  together  and  likewise  their  hind  feet 
secured  by  strong  iron  chains,  and  chains  again 
from  these,  which  were  held  by  ropes  by 
gangs  of  coolies,  as  shown  in  one  of  the  photo- 
graphs. Each  elephant  had  his  "nara,"or  rope- 
saddle,  on  his  back  and  his  collar  of  ropes 
round  his  neck,  in  which  liis  mahout  buries  his 
feet  when  riding. 


i:i.i:i'ii.\\ 


I  |(,ll  I  >     IN     INDIA. 


hoi) 


\vAf\]  \\j>  ricklcii  liy  lii-^  own  mahout,  cimin;^ 
lii>  go>i(l,  and  was  suirouiuk'il  hy  a  dozen  or 
more  "  I )atinari  -  wallahs,"  ur  clephantadois. 
Kach  of  the  elcpliantadors  carries  a  spear  some 
twelve  feet  long  with  a  shar[)-pointed  head  and 
a  haft  of  banihoo.  The  animals  were  now  led 
or  dragged  to  opposite  sides  of  the  arena  and 
l)acked  towards  one  of  the  narrow  arched  o[)en- 
ings  previously  described.  The  chains  from 
their  hind  feet,  or,  rather,  ankles,  are  taken 
through  this  opening  and  held  from  without. 
The  chains  are  then  taken  off  the  front  feet,  the 
mahout  descends,  and  the  elephants  are  ready 
to  rush  straight  at  each  other  as  soon  as  the 
rcmaiiiin'f  chains  on  their  hind  legs  are  freed. 


iieilUriil  intiMVals.  hiiiin,;  mn-  >>l  lln,><  in- 
tirlude>.  (ianesh  ( iuj  found  one  of  the  coi)ing- 
stones  of  the  circular  building  opposite  the 
grand  stand  was  slightly  l(JOJe,  and  he  prised  it 
up  in  his  anger  and  overturned  it.  It  afterwards 
took  no  fewer  than  eight  coolies  to  move  it 
back  to  its  place  !  If  allowed  to  continue  long 
enough  one  elephant  would  eventually  push  the 
other  over  and  then  proceed  t<^>  dispatch  him 
by  trampling  on  him  and  tearing  him  with  his 
tusks  and  so  ending  matters.  But  the  animals 
are  loo  valuable,  and,  moreover,  such  cruelty 
would  not  be  allowed  by  His  Highness,  and  so 
the  fight  is  always  stopped  in  time.  This 
is     done     by    the    letting    off    of    very    large 


/  ro/u  II I 


I  UK    h-  INSr    ,M  AD    m  SH 


Directly  they  are  relea.sed  the  great,  unwieldy- 
looking  Itrutes  run  towards  each  other  rapidly 
and  butt  their  heads  together,  and  each  strives 
to  i)ush  the  other  over,  their  tusks  not  being 
used  and  their  trunks  only  waved  above  their 
heads,  hanging  down  between  their  tusks,  or 
twisted  and  turned  about  in  various  ways.  A 
good  idc:a  of  the  first  mad  rush  of  the  fighting 
monsters  is  given  l)y  tlie  above  photograph.  I 
did  not  once  observe  that  the  trunks  were  used 
to  fight  with.  The  animals  remain  pushing 
each  other  for  some  time  and  theiv  break  away, 
and  [)erhaps  run  round  the  arena  before  coming 
together  again  and  stru<igling  with  each  other  at 

Vol.  X.-  77. 


i;'tou 


s([uibs  of  gunpowder,  which  make  so  much 
smoke  and  noise  that  the  elephants  are 
terrified  and  run  to  different  jxirts  of  the 
arena,  where  they  are  secured  and  led  away 
in  the  same  manner  as  they  entered.  I 
should  explain  that  in  all  cases  the  ends  of  the 
tusks  are  cut  off  straight,  but  whether  to  render 
them  less  dangerous,  or,  as  is  most  probable,  to 
prevent  their  getting  chipped  or  split  up,  I  am 
unable  to  .say.  Another  phase  of  the  fight  is 
shown  in  the  photo,  on  the  following  page, 
which  shows  the  animals  reengaging  after  a 
breathing  space. 

The    iinal    item   im   the   [)rogramme   was  the 


6io 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    M A(".A/IN'K 


];li-b.\l,.iUl.\G    Al'  1  EK   A    liliKATIIIM.    MAI.I-. 


\rhoto. 


introduction  into  the  arena  of  a  very  large  and 
fierce  elephant,  who  was  permanently  in  a 
state  of  madness,  and  who  had  lost  one  of  his 
large  tusks  in  some  previous  misadventure. 
His  mahout  was  never  able  to  go  within 
reach  of  him,  and  he  was  only  led  into  the  arena 
with  great  difficulty,  the  spears  carried  by  the 
elejjhantadors  being  frequently  used  to  urge  him 
to  advance  in  the  direction  required.  When  loosed 
he  at  once  made  a  dash  for  the  nearest  man,  who 
saved  himself  by  running  for  an  opening  and  dis- 
apjjearing  into  it,  followed  often  only  too  closely 
by  the  elephant's  trunk.  This  part  of  the  enter- 
tainment is  called  the  "Satmari,"  and  those 
taking  part  in  it  are  the  "  Sacmari-wallahs." 
When  running  away  the  spearman  trails  his 
spear  behind  him,  and  often  escapes  by  the 
animal  turning  all  his  attention  to  the  spear, 
catching  it  with  his  trunk  and  breaking  it  up 
in  his  mouth  like  niatchwood.  This  part  of  the 
show  is  altogether  senseless  and  unpleasant,  and 
should  more  properly  be  called  elephant  bait- 
ing. It  is  considered  a  great  act  of  courage 
for  one  of  the  spearmen  to  run  close  up  to  or 
pass  in  front  of  the  elephant  and  trust  for  his 
safety  to  his  swiftness  of  foot,  or  the  attention 
of  the  assailed  animal  being  diverted  by  some 
of  the  other  elephantadors  or  "  SStmari-wallahs." 
On  the  present  occasion  one  rather  old  man  was 
tripped  up  and  seized  by  the  elejihant  just  as  he 
was  nearing  safety,  but  the  squib-men  were  so 
quick  in  letting  off  their  finworks  that  the  old 


man  was  quickly  rescued  without  being  much 
hurt,  and  I  afterwards  heard  that  Her  Highness 
the  Maharani  sent  him  a  handsome  present  of 
money  and  inc]uired  repeatedly  after  his  health. 
After  this  stupid  game  had  gone  on  for  some 
time  a  man  entered  the  arena  on  a  good  Arab 
horse,  and  was  at  once  pursued  by  the  elephant. 
Elephants  have  a  great  dislike  to  horses,  which 
is  reciprocated  in  kind,  horses,  in  fact,  being 
often  most  terrified  at  meeting  an  elephant, 
even  when  walking  along  the  street.  The  horse- 
man can  always  escape  by  reason  of  the  greater 
swiftness  of  the  horse,  and  by  taking  advantage 
of  the  previously-described  circular  buildings  in 
the  centre  of  the  arena  and  running  round 
them,  his  pursuer  being  unable  to  turn  round 
so  quickly  as  the  horse.  After  this,  one's  interest 
was  arrested  by  the  great  difficulty  experienced  in 
catching  and  securing  the  now  much-enraged 
and  excited  elephant,  who  was  more  fierce  and 
vindictive  than  ever.  In  order  to  secure  him  it 
was  neces.sary  for  some  of  the  men  to  run  in 
i^ehind  the  animal,  while  his  attention  was 
diverted  by  others  in  front,  and  spring  on  to 
his  hind  legs  large  pincers,  or  "  climpkas  "  as 
they  are  called  by  the  natives.  This  is  a  very 
difficult  and  dangerous  achievement,  and  called 
for  great  pluck  and  agility  on  the  part  of  the 
men  sf)  engaged,  as  at  any  moment  the  huge 
animal  might  have  turned  round  and  caught 
llu  in  with  his  trunk,  when  he  would  have 
thrown  them  on   the  ground    and  trampled  the 


\ 


i:i.lJ'II.\.\  I'     IIC.II'IS     IX     INhlA. 


6ii 


r 


I     f    i 


t     1  iE 


-tj 


THE    IICIUKE   (II      lilK    i;i  i;i'MA.\|-    FIGHT    PAINTED    |.^'    Ml;.    I.VNDON    FOR     THF:    M.\  II A  r(A  IAH    OF    r.AKOIiA. 


life  out  of  them 
i  11  a  m  i  n  u  t  e . 
When  two  or 
three  of  these 
"  c  1  i  m  p  k  a  s  "' 
had  bee  n 
attached  to  each 
hind  leg  the 
animal  w  a  e 
easily  secured, 
as  he  could  nc 
longer  walk 
witliout  causing 
himself  great 
pain.  By  the 
time  this  last 
item  on  our 
programme  was 
finished  it  was 
already    getting 


late  and  near 
the  time  for  the 
evening  meal, 
for  both  natives 
and  Europeans, 
and  we  drove 
h  o  m  c  in  the 
cool  of  the 
evening  with- 
out o  u  r  s  u  n 
helmets, 
through  the 
crowded  streets 
of  the  old  town 
of  B  a  r  o  d  a , 
thinking  of  the 
remarkable 
medijEval  sport 
we  had  just  wit- 
nessed. 


i-  I  Olll  <(J 


.\  t.nwi  r  ul-    i-.i.i.riiA-.  rAb.'io  wiiii    iiiiu;   i.miiimi.m 


Vi&SS^ 


ES 


'mma^^^tg!^^ 


J ' 


%EDlSAPrEAI(ANCE»fMR.ECAI1. 


yi Mystery  or  th3 

J(^OTENAY  f^OUNTAJNS, 


\ 


Mr.  Egan  was  the  General  Superintendent  of  the  Great  Northern  Raih-oad  Company  of  America, 
and  went  on  a  shooting  trip  in  the  Kootenay  Mountains  with  a  party  of  friends.  The  other 
sportsmen  duly  returned  to  the  appointed  trysting-place,  but  Mr.  Egan  failed  to  put  in  an  appear- 
ance. From  that  day  to  this  no  trace  whatever  of  the  missing  man  has  been  discovered, 
although  hundreds  of  men,  including  skilled  mountaineers  and  Indian  trackers,  have  scoured  the 
mountains.  Mr.  Egan's  mysterious  disappearance  caused  a  great  sensation  in  Montana  and 
the  West,  and  all  sorts  of  theories  have    been    advanced  as  to  his  fate. 


CASE   which    caused    a    profound 
sensation  throughout   the  \Vest,  and 
which    echpses    in     interest    every 
liappening    of     the 
kind     within     le- 


I  <  III  years,  is  the  niy.sterious 
disappearance  of  Mr. 
litnjainin  I'.  I^gan,  Cieneral 
Superintendent  of  the  (Ireat 
Northern  Raihoad  Company  of 
America,  who  in  November  last 
embarked  on  a  shorjting  trip 
in  the  Kootenay  Mountains, 
and  has  never  Ijeen  seen  since. 
On  liiesday,  November  4th 
la^l,  .\lr.  Egan  and  a  party  of 
friends  and  servants  left  their 
( (jmfortable  quarters  in  the  city 
of  Kalispell,  Flathead  County, 
for  a  "chicken-shooting"  and 
deer  -  stalking  jaunt  into  the 
mountain  range  known  as  the 
I        ■        Vs.    an    fiffslioot  of  the 


.MR.   I>.  I-.   KIjAM,  riENKKAI.  SUl'KKI.S  1  EN  DKN  1 

lih    THK    r.RKAT     NORTHERN     RAILROAD    CO. 

Iroiii  n\  r.|-   AMERICA.  \rhflio. 


The  writer  of  this  article  had  some  acquaint- 
ance with  the  missing  man,  but  a  much  more 
intimate  friendship  with  Mr.  Danie!  Doody, 
a  Helton  (Montana)  moun- 
taineer and  guide,  and  mariy 
of  the  facts  contained  herein 
were  furnished  by  the  latter 
gentleman. 

Ihiefly  stated,  the  f:tcts  of 
the  disappearance  are  these : 
Mr.  l^gan  and  two  com- 
jjanions,  gentlemen  •  named 
Houston,  brothers,  had  been 
for  .several  days  prior  to  their 
actual  departure  enthusiastic- 
ally anticipating  a  few  days' 
rela.xation  from  business 
cares  with  their  rifles.  They 
inlendc-d  to  ])ay  particular 
attention  to  bagging  a  few 
(lier,  reports  ha\ing  reached 
them  through  a  trapper-friend 
that  these  animals  were  un- 
usuallv  abundant  in  the  vicinity 


1 


Till':    i)is.\ri'i:.\k.\X(i.   ui-    mk.    Ui.w. 


^";, 


TU1-;    CITV    OF     KAMM'EI.I,,    .MoNiANA,     KR>i\l    WHICH     I  H 1-.    >(.  ll-.M.N  U-.MiE  ^  1    -.    iAKi 

From  a  P/ioto. 


of  "  Lake  Fivt%"  in  thr  KoDtciiay  ranuc  t)iily 
a  short  railroad  trip  from  Kalispell  not  only 
abundant,  but  in  prime  condition,  having  been 
but  little  hunted  in  that  section.  T^verybody 
inclined  to  this  sport  had  been,  like  them- 
selves, awaiting  the  first  fall  of  snow,  without 
whicli,  of  course,  their  chances  of  a  full  bag 
would  l)e  slight. 

On  Tuesda)-,  4lh  November,  there  came  a 
light  fall  of  snow.  Inquiry  by  wire  showed 
that  the  storm,  such  as  it  was,  had  been  (luite 
general,  and  included  the  neighbourhood  of 
"  Lake  Fi\e,"'  which  is 
about  three  miles  from 
IJelton,  the  latter  a  small 
(Ireat  Northern  Railroad 
station. 

Ordering  out  his  special 
( ar,  Mr.  Lgan  and  the 
small  party  who  were  to 
accompany  him  boarded 
it.  A  locomotive  was 
attached,  and  they  started 
on  the  journey  from  which 
one  of  their  number  was 
never  to  return  alive. 

The  sportsmen  left  the 
car  a  short  time  before 
IJelton  was  reached,  at  a 
point  more  accessible  to 
"  Lake  Live,"  the  train 
afterwards  proceeding  to 
iJelton  in  charge  of  the 
servants.  The  members 
of  the  party  were  all  to 
rendezvous    at     this    place 


when  tiled  of  shooting  (Lcr  or  such  other  game 
as  they  might  encounter.  They  at  once  decided 
to  work  separately,  every  man  for  himself,  and  a 
bag  of  game  for  them  all. 

'Jhe  elder  Llouston  suggesteil  that  when  any 
one  (if  ihem  got  ready  to  return  he  should  fire  his 
gun  according  to  a  prearranged  signal.  Mr. 
I'^gan  thought  this  might  involve  a  cold  wait  for 
the  fust  man  going  in,  and  amended  it  by  sug- 
gesting a  small  cairn  of  stones  being  placed  on 
the  platform  of  a  bridge  they  must  all  cross  in 
returning,  by  each  one  in   turn  as  he  passed  in. 


l-'ruiii  a] 


Ml;.    UGAN   N    '.I  IX  I 


6i4 


THE    WIDE    \VC)RI>I)    MAdAZlNE. 


This  would  inform  the  latep  arrivals  as  to  how 
iiianv  had  preceded  them,  and  this  plan  was 
adopted. 

Arriving  at  the  shores  of  the  lake,  which  is 


still  absent,  and,  thoui;h  faint  with  hunger  from 
their  vigorous  exercise,  the  party  waited  two 
hours  for  the  missing  superintendent  and  then 
dined  without  him.     The  car  was  provided  with 


t 

.^f. 
^'*i 

1 

1 

A 

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provi  n\ 


'  LAICK    KIVE,"    NEAR    WHICH    THE   SHOOTlN'(,    PARTY   COMMrNCEC)    niT"  R  ATIOXS. 


\l'ltoto. 


lierc  in  plain  sight  from  the  passing  trains,  the 
elder  Houston  and  Egan  were  still  within  hail 
of  each  other,  and  the  latter  called  out,  "  I'm 
going  over  yonder  a  little  way  to  take  a  look 
around."'  He  pointed  to  the  east  directly  away 
from  the  railroad  a  section  where  none  of  the 
others  had  gone. 

This  ijroved  to  be  the 
last  that  has  ever  been 
sren  of  the  unfortunate 
man,  and  those  were  the 
last  words  he  spoke,  so 
far  as  is  known. 

1  he  country  all  about 
"  Lake  I'ive ''  is  rough, 
and  much  broken  up  with 
gullies  and  huge  boulders. 
.V  few  hours'  tramp 
liirough  it  cooled  the 
ardour  of  the  other 
hunters,  and  they  started 
bark  for  riellon  in  the 
•  arly  afternoon,  'liie  last 
one  of  the  Houston 
l)r()lhers  to  cross  the 
bridge  noticed  that  one 
member  of  the  party 
must  be  still  out,  one 
cairn  of  stones  being 
missing. 

Arrived  at  the  car  in 
Helton  the  last  arrivals 
fijund  lliat  Mr.  E"an  was 


all  the  essentials  for  a  "square  meal,"  and  full 
justice  was  done  thereto. 

As    the    day    waned     the    members    of    the 
party    at    the    car,    who   had    now  been    joined 
by     Dan      Doody,     a     trapper     and 
and      two    other      men,     began     for 


ftUide, 
the    first 


I  Ml-.    ri.ACI'.    WIIKUl' 


l-.I.A.N     «AS     I.ASr    Sl-.EN. 


\riioio. 


I  in:    his.\i'iM;.\R.\\(i':   oi-   mr.    u.ax. 


6,5 


time    to  be   anxious    at    Mr.    llgaiTs   contiiuicd 
absence. 

Within  a  radius  ol'  a  few  miles  from  "Lake 
I'ive "  tliere  are  seven  scattered  cabins,  or 
hunting  lodges,  used  occasionally  by  hunters 
and  pros[)ectors,  but  otherwise  unoccupied. 
Provisions-  bacon,  corn  meal,  and  the  like  - 
are  stored  in  three  of  them  in  case  of 
emergency.  As  fears  began  to  be  expressed 
that  some  accident  must  have  befallen  Egan, 
Doody  remarked  that  the  chances  were  that  he 
had  "  bumped  u[j  against ''  one  of  these  cabins, 
had  been  thereby  reminded  that  he  was  hungry, 
and  that  here  was  a  chance  to  "feed."  Doody 
told  the  writer  later,  in  confidence,  that  he  .said 
this  only  to  cheer  the  men  up.  Privately,  he 
felt  that  it  was  "all  up"  with  Mr.  Egan,  as  at 
about  this  hour  one  of  the  fiercest  mountain 
blizzards    he    had    ever    witnessed    sprang    up 


city,  striving  to  out  .shriek  the  storm-blasts  of 
Nature,  and  thus  signal  Mr.  Egan  into  the 
proper  bearings  if  it  should  perchance  fall  upon 
his  ears. 

The  night  pa.ssed,  the  following  day  panic 
and  went,  a  week  elapsed,  and  not  the  slightest 
trace  was  discovered  of  the  unfortunate  super- 
intendent. Rewards  aggregating  one  thousand 
dollars  were  offered  by  the  railroad  company 
and  individual  friends.  No  fever  than  four 
hundred  searchers  were  scattered  over  the 
country  — some  for  the  sake  of  the  reward  itself, 
most  from  nobler  motives.  Despite  the  bitter 
cold,  despite  the  fact  of  there  being  four  feet  of 
snow  on  the  level  and  drifts  of  unfathomable 
depth,  these  brave  men  persisted.  They 
traversed  a  vast  territory,  and  fought  their  way 
to  well-nigh  inaccessible  heights  and  depths 
through  the  driving  storm,  which  unfortunately 


THIS    PHOTOGRAPH    SHOWS   THE     .STRETCH    OF    LINE    UP   AND    DOWN    WHICH    THE    WHISTl-LVG     lOCO.MOTIVE     KAN 
ALL    NIGHl"   TO   GUIDE    J  HE    MISSI.NG    .MA.V    BACK   TO   THE  CAR. 


suddenly.  A  blizzard  in  the  Rockies,  I  may 
(^xplain,  comprises  a  tornado  of  wind,  and  snow 
in  avalanches,  com[)letely  !)linding  the  chance 
traveller.  The  cold  grows  intense  :  and  every 
gully  and  ravine  (]uickly  becomes  blocked  with 
snow.  Even  the  hardiest  mountaineer  cannot 
make  one  hundred  feet  an  hour  against  the  fierce 
gale,  nor  see  a  foot  ahead  of  him  into  the 
whirling  clouds  of  snow  and  sleet. 

And  now  it  certainly  began  to  look  serious 
for  the  mi.ssing  man.  Night  closed  in,  bla(  k 
and  desolate.  Nothing  could  be  done  to  render 
aid  -  excepting  one  thing,  and  that  of  doubtful 
efficiency  in  the  howling  pandemonium  pre- 
vailing. But  this  one  thing  was  done.  All  the 
long  night  through  the  big  locomotive  which 
had  hauled  the  superintendent's  car  ran  up  and 
down  the  line,  three  or  four  miles  in  either 
direction,  its  whistle  shrieking  at   its  full  cai)a- 


continucd  almost  incessantly  for  a  whole  week. 
At  niglit  each  little  i)arty  made  its  camp 
wherever  overtaken  by  darkness. 

All  but  one  of  the  seven  cabins  were  reached, 
and  found  to  be  unoccupied,  during  the  first 
four  days  of  the  (]uest.  On  .Sunday  one  of  the 
countless  rumours  to  reach  civilization  was  to 
the  effect  that  the  seventh  cabin,  perched  hiL;h  uj) 
on  a  mountain  crag,  was  within  the  sight  of  one 
search  part)',  and  a  messenger  had  I  een  sent 
back  to  notify  the  distracted  wife  and  the  five  little 
children,  who  held  lonely  vigil  in  the  husband's 
car  at  Helton,  as  close  to  the  scene  as  they  could 
come,  that  smoke  had  been  seen  issuing  from 
the  cabin,  and  that  joyful  tidings  might  follow  at 
any  moment.  The  next  to  be  heard  of  this 
comforting  and  encouraging  rumour  was  a  state- 
ment of  its  falsity  from  the  very  men  who  were 
supposed  to  have  sent  back  the  message.     They 


6  I  () 


Tin:     WIDE    WORI,I)     MACtAZINE. 


had  actually  gained  access,  aflL-r  hcrcLilcan 
struggles,  to  this  seventh  cai)in,  only  to  lind  it 
wholly  unoccupied,  as  in  the  case  o(  the  other 
six. 

Among  other  search  parties  were  several 
made  up  of  Flathead  Indians.  Their  reser- 
vation is  a  few  miles  south  of  Kalispell,  in  the 
adjacent  county  of  Missoula.  Skilled  as  they 
are  in  intricate  mountain  work  of  all  kinds, 
hardy,  enduring,  inured  to  privation — the  human 
prototype  on  the  mountain  to  the  camel  on  the 
desert — great  things  were  expected  from  their 
joining  in  the  search.  Many  false  rumours  of 
their  success  promptly  arose. 

One  story  of   this  sort    which    gained    wide- 
spread credence  was  to  the  effect  that  Mr.  I^gan 
had  been  seen  by  a  party 
of   four  Flatheads   plung- 


to  a  ((inilortahlc  vacation  from  railroad  or  other 
labours  on  full  pay,  at  the  ex{)ense  of  their 
employers.  The  whole  affair  was  regarded  by 
these  Japs,  according  to  the  version  which 
reached  town,  as  a  mere  "  job  " — an  affair  in 
which  they  had  no  personal  interest  or  humane 
sentiment.  If  this  selfish  action  is  [)roved 
against  them  the  Japanese  will  have  their 
employers  and  possibly  some  others  to  reckon 
with,  for  Mr.  Kgan  was  a  very  popular  man. 
\Vestern  Americans  take  great  pride  in  their 
individual  and  collective  "squareness"  and 
humane  qualities,  and  they  insist  upon  it  in 
others,  where  they  can.  It  is  quite  possible, 
therefore,     that     there     may     be     some     tragic 


linppenmgs. 


mg     through     the     storm 


on  a  ridge  of  the  moun- 
tains above  their  own 
position,  shouting  mean- 
ingless words,  and  gesti- 
culating wildlv  with  his 
arms  —  seemingly  insane 
from  his  awful  experience. 
He  had  paid  no  attention 
to  their  shouts  and  firinu 
off  of  guns,  and  two  fleet 
young  l)raves  had  started 
around  the  base  of  the 
ridge  to  head  him  (jff 
and,  if  need  be,  over- 
|)Ower  him.  The  rumour 
proved  to  have  no  greater 
foundation  in  fact  than 
that  there  we/'e  Indians 
aiding  in  the  search. 

IJesides  Indians  and 
white  men,  all  taking  part 
in  scouring  the  storm- 
swept  Kootenays,  j)rying 
into  every  cranny  wliicli 
might  conceal  a  human  body,  plunging  ofttimes 
into  snowblocked  jjitfalls,  there  were  also  a 
do/en  Japanese,  employed  ordinarily  as  common 
lai)ourers  by  the  railroad  corporation. 

On    the    second    day    of    the   search  two    of 
these  Orientals  lost  their  way  somewhere  north 
of  the  lake  and  were  not  <«)imd  by  their  com 
patriots    for    nearly    twenty-four    hours.      They 
wen;  partially  frozen  and  nearly  famished. 

They  related  an  improbable  yarn  about  having 
been  chased  off  the  trail  by  a  fierce  grizzly  bear, 
churning  to  have  seen  .several  of  these  animals, 
and  they  and  their  countrymen,  upon  again 
coming  together,  united  in  absolutely  refusing 
to  take  further  part  in  the  search.  They  built 
up  a  huge   fire  of  j)ine  logs,   and  settled  down 


\     I  VI'ICAl.    1  l.ATHIiAl)     HI. 
'I  HACKERS   ASSISTED    IK 

From  a  Photo,  by  J.  II 


to  the  callousness  of 
these  railway  labourers. 
E\ery  man  of  the  four 
hundred  searchers  was 
needed  to  cover  the  vast 
territory  satisfactorily. 
No  single  person  can 
cover  more  than  a  very 
limited  area  under  the 
conditions  prevailing,  and 
do  his  work  well. 

Another  incident  in 
connection  with  t  h  e 
search,  and  then  practi- 
cally all  has  been  said 
up  to  this  date  that  can 
be  said.  Nothing  was 
left  untried  in  this 
peculiar  man -hunt  that 
love,  humanit}',  or  money 
could  bring  into  being. 

Four  intelligent  men 
started  out  from  Kalispell 
to  locate  the  lost  hunter 
solely  at  the  instance  of 
a  fortune-teller,  or  clair- 
voyant medium.  It  was 
clearly  demonstrated  to 
the  men  thai  this  medmni  could  never  have 
seen  Mr.  F^gan,  nor  his  ])hotograph,  nor  have 
had  any  verbal  or  written  description  of  his  per- 
sonalil)-.  This  fact  was  irrefutably  proven  by 
circumstances  it  is  not  necessary  to  go  into  here, 
^'et  this  occult  person  described  the  missing 
man  with  the  minutest  accuracy  —  every 
slightest  detail  of  his  features  and  physique— 
and  then  told  her  startled  bearers  exactly  where 
thev  would  find  the  dead  body. 

The  outcome  of  their  quest  was  anxiously 
awaited,  but  nothing  came  of  it,  and  the 
mysttry  of  Mr.  l'2gan's  disappearance  remains 
misolved.  He  has  disappeared  as  completely 
as  if  the  earth  had  opened  and  swallowed  him. 
Hundreds  of  brave,  earnest  men  have  searched 


;a\k  -  riiESE    ci.KviiU    inuian 

THR    SKAKCH    FOR    MR.    IXIAN. 

'.  Britain,  Kalisf-cU,  Mont. 


11       DlSAl'PEARANCl-:    Ul'     M  K.     lAiAN. 


(.17 


o\er  every  loot  oi  accessible  ground,  traversinir, 
in  so  doing,  an  area  of  over  fifty  square  miles  : 
hopeful  that  they  might,  perchance,  come  to 
the  one  little  luimmock  of  earth  out  of  the 
thousands  which  dot  that  region  like  giant  ant- 
hills behind  which  the  man  had  fillen  ex- 
hausted. In  wandering  amongst  these  one  can 
easily  become  bewildered,  until,  further  confused 
by  blinding  clouds  of  sleet  and  snow,  the 
shutting  down  of  night  finds  one  unable  to 
crawl  another  step. 

When  the  great  majority  of  the  many  thou- 
sands who  watched  the  [)rogress  of  the  search 
had  given  up  all  hope  of  Mr.  Egan  being 
rescued  alive,  fourteen  skilled  mountaineers,  . 
men  expert  in  woodcrat^  were  ke[)t  on  by  the 
railroad  corporation,  hoping  in  some  untried 
drift  to  discover  the  last  resting-place  of  the 
missing  man. 

Mrs.  Benjamin  !•".  Egan,  his  wife,  hoped  to 
the  last  that  her  husband  would  be  found  alive. 
With  her  little  ones  she  is  patiently  waiting  for 
news  at  the  home  of  friends  in  the  city  of 
Spokane,  State  of  Washington.  She  bears  up 
bravely. 

Within  the  past  few  years  there  have  been 
four  cases,  all  somewhat  resembling  the  Egan 
mystery,  of  individuals  becoming  lost  in  the 
mountains  of  North-\Vestern  Montana. 

In  the  first  case,  seven  years  ago,  a  party  of 
four  set  out  on  a  hunting  trip  into  the  mountains 
adjacent  to  the  small  railroad  town  called 
Thompson's  Ealls.  They  lost  their  bearings  the 
third  day  and  wandered  about  for  another  three 
days  before  striking  the  proper  trail,  it  being 
late  autumn,  with  a  little  snow.  One  of  the 
four  was  taken  sick  the  day  the  right  track  was 
discovered  :  hunger  and  weakness  forced  the 
other  three  to  abandon  him,  and  the  relief 
party  later  sent  out  for  the  sick  man  found  him 
dead. 

The  second  instance  was  that  of  a  man  named 
(loodkind,  who  lost  himself  in  the  very  same 
locality.  lie  [lerished  in  a  storm  and  his  body 
was  not  found  imtil  the  ensuing  spring,  some 
five  months  later. 

The  third  person  to  become  lost  was  a  young 
lad  of  fifteen,  Harry  Ryan,  who  wandered  away 
from  his  companions  while  the  party  were  out 
in  the  low,  timberless  fool  hills  which  surround 
the  city  of  Anaconda.  Me  became  se[)arated 
from  the  others  in  the  broad  light  of  day  ;  atid 
although  a  search  for  him  began  within  a  few 
hours,  and  these  foot-hills  barely  furnish  protec- 
tive cover  for  a  rabbit,  eighteen  months  ha\e 
now  passed,  and  not  the  slightest  trace  of  the 
niissing  boy — neiliier  his  body,  nor  any  of  his 
possessions,  clothing,  or  rifle  have  ever  come  to 
light. 

Vol.  X.— 78. 


.This  was  a  very  mysterious  case,  which  has 
never  yet  been  plausibly  explained.  The  search 
lor  him,  for  miles  in  every  direction,  and  into 
atljoining  moiiiUains  and  settlements,  was 
vigorously  prosecuted  for  ten  months.  1-arge 
rewards  were  offered  and  the  matter  given  the 
fullest  publicity  in  the  Press,  but  all  ab.solutely 
without  result. 

When  one  visits  a  locality  like  that  which 
Mr.  Egan  and  his  friends  selected  to  shoot 
over  on  this  fateful  4th  of  November  he  ceases 
to  wonder,  as  the  writer  did,  tiiat  an  experienced 
huntsman  could  become  so  hopelessly  astray, 
but  to  marvel,  instead,  ho".  ■  he  could  possibly 
prevent  such  a  culmination. 

Rumours  and  theories  are  still  rife  con- 
cerning this  mysterious  case,  although  the 
search  has  now  been  finally  abandoned  until 
the  spring,  lAen  the  discovery  of  Mr.  Egan's 
body  would  be  some  consolation  to  his  sorrow- 
ing relatives — preferable,  at  any  rate,  to  the 
uncertainty  which  now  prevails  as  to  his  fate. 

The  following  additional  matter  from  Mr. 
Patterson  has  reached  us  just  as  we  go  to 
press  :  — 

One  of  the  last  jwrties  to  continue  the  search 
consisted  of  a  mountaineer  named  Cieorge 
White  and  three  Flathead  Indians.  I  asked 
^Vhite  what,  in  his  opinion,  had  been  the  cause 
of  Mr.  Egan's  disappearance  and  where  he 
thought  the  body  would  eventually  be  found. 

'•  1  have  said  several  times,''  he  replied,  "  that 
it  would  be  discovered,  when  the  body  was 
fi)und.  that  Mr.  Egan  had  met  with  a  gun 
accident  of  some  description  ;  either  he  tripped 
up  over  his  weapon  and  shot  himself  in  a  way 
that  crippled  him  so  that  he  couldn't  go  on,  or 
some  similar  hard  luck  had  caused  him  to  take 
a  '  header  "  into  one  of  the  thousand  holes  around 
Eake  Five  ;  and  that  his  bcxly  will  be  found  next 
summer  some  time  — if  it's  ever  found  at  all 
sitting  backed  up  against  a  rock  or  tree  where 
he  had  crawled,  or  at  :he  bottom  of  a  pit. 

"  It  was  perfectly  useless  looking  for  him  after 
the  first  few  days  at  this  season  of  the  \ear. 
'i'he  snow  would'  have  covered  him  completely 
in  no  lime  when  he  once  stop|)ed  moving.  lUit 
no  man  wants  to  refuse  to  join  in  the  hunt  —  il 
only  to  s.Ttisfy  his  own  conscience."' 

Not  from  all  those  whom  I  (]uestioned  diil  I 
receive  the  frank  responses  .Mr.  White  so  cheer- 
hilly  vouchsafed.  On  the  other  hand,  a  .strange 
underlving  spirit  of  secretiveness  manifested 
itself  on  all  sides,  and  from  the  most  naturally 
unex|iected  sources. 

For  a  time  I  w.is  disposed  to  attribute  this 
to  corporation  infiuence  -that  peculiar  policy 
common    to    railroad    and   other  companies  of 


6i8 


THK    WIDE    WUKLD    MAGAZINE, 


seeking  to  hide  the  detailed  truth  of  any  matter 
concerning  them  from  the  piibhc. 

But  1  persisted,  and  at  last  my  efforts  were 
rewarded  by  bringing  to  the  fore  a  number  of 
strange  rumours  concerning  the  cause  of  Mr. 
Egan's  disappearance  and  the  manner  in  which 
the  unlortunute  man  had  met  his  doom. 
Plausible  as  they  may  seem,  they  had  never 
once  occurred  to  me. 

When  I  found  that  several  well-intentioned 
and  usually  affable  individuals  were  .seeking  to 
evade  me— among  them  one  or  two  whom  1 
knew  corporation  restrictions  could  not  touch  — 
I  suspected  that  something  had  been  discovered 
which  they  preferred  to  keep  to  themselves. 

I  faikcl  at  every  effort  to  make  a  personal 
appointment  with  my  friend,  Dan  Doody,  the 
well-known  mountain-guide.  Letters  seemed  to 
miss  him,  and  it  took  a  rather  hotly-worded 
telegraphic  appeal  to  fetch  him. 

I  append  some  extracts  from  a  letter  I  received 
from  him  directly  after  : — 

"Nyack,  Mont.,  December  i8th,  iyo2. 

"Dear  Sir, — Vour  letter  of  December  iilli 
received  yesterday,  your  message  to-tlay,  and 
will  say  that  T  don't  think  it  advisable  to  express 
my  opinion  as  to  when  and  how  his  (Mr.  Egan's) 
body  will  be  found,  because  if  I  did  that  I 
would  put  parties  on  their  guard.  I  could  write 
you  the  particulars  u[)  to  date,  but  could  not  do 
any  more  at  present.  But  1  will  write  you  the 
particulars  later  on  in  the  spring ;  for  1  am 
sure  he  will  be  found  if  there  will  be  a  search 
made  for  him  [then],  and  I  also  think  there  will 
be  a  big  excitement  here  when  his  body  will  be 
found;  for  I  certainly  think  he  was  shot  and 
killed — and  not  by  himself,  but  by  some  other 

jjarty,  and    surely  by  accident I  am 

living  close  to  where  Mr.  Egan  was  lost,  or 
where  he  left  the  train  to  go  on  that  unlucky 
hunt,  and   I    know  every  toot    of   the    country 

around    there I  remain,  as  ever, 

"D.vx   Dooi.v." 

Although  Mr.  Doody  has  naively  revealed  in 
this  letter  tho.se  very  opinions  and  suspicions  he 
thought  best  to  keep  concealed  for  a  time,  yet  I 
do  not  feel  that  I  am  violating  any  confidence 
in  giving  this  letter  to  the  readers  of  Thk 
WiDK  \\V)ki,ii  Ma(;azim;.  Before  this  narra- 
tive appears  a  considerable  period  will  have 
elapsed  —  sufficient,  doubtless,  to  prevent  its 
publication  from  giving  the  untimely  warning 
which  he  fears. 


It  does  not  call  for  any  violent  stretch  of  the 
imagination  to  grasp  the  meaning  of  what  the 
writer  hints  at.  Mr.  Egan  may  have  been 
shot,  entirely  by  accident,  by  some  other 
sportsman. 

It  takes  almost  supernatural  courage  to  face 
a  responsibility  such  as  this.  In  other  distress- 
ful cases  of  this  kind  self-preservation  has 
prompted  the  unhappy  hunter  to  secrete  the 
dead  body  where  no  human  eye  would  ever 
behold  it,  nor  any  prowling  wild  beast  desecrate 
it.  Perhaps  some  after  accident  has  revealed 
this,  perhaps  a  troubled  conscience  has 
acknowledged  it,  or  perhaps  it  has  for  ever 
remained  an  unsolved  mystery. 

My  comments  upon  Mr.  Doody's  letter  are 
intended  as  nothing  more  than  an  elucidation  of 
their  meaning.  I  am  not  sure  that  I  even  agree 
with  him  in  his  surmise — if  it  be  merely  a 
surmise  on  his  part.  If  he  has  positive  know- 
ledge on  the  subject,  he  has  promised  a  com- 
pleted statement  later  on. 

Within  the  present  year  (1902),  and  only  a 
few  miles  distant  tVoin  the  scene  of  Mr.  Egan's 
disappearance,  a  locomotive  fireman  met  instan- 
taneous death  from  the  stray  bullet  of  a 
huntsman,  whose  exact  location  when  the 
shot  was  fired  is  not  known.  And  this 
happened  while  the  fireman  was  seated  at  his 
cab -window,  with  the  bell-cord  between  his 
fingers  and  the  train  moving  along  at  top 
speed  1  How  much  more  possible  the  other 
accident  would  have  been  ! 

I  would  [)oint  out  in  this  same  connec- 
ti(jn  that  upon  the  November  afternoon  when 
Mr.  Egan  disappeared  other  sportsmen  were 
heard  firing  their  guns  in  the  near  distance. 

Again,  the  carcass  of  a  deer  which  had  been 
lately  shot,  but  which  had  been  allowed  to  lie 
where  it  had  fallen  unclaimed,  was  run  across 
toward  evening  of  that  day  in  the  .same  general 
locality. 

These  facts,  and  the  probability  that  yet  other 
hunters  were  out  that  day  in  pursuit  of  game, 
are  all  pertinent  subjects  for  reflection,  and  in 
the  light  of  the  present  limited  information  it 
is  unfair  that  sus[)icion  should  fall  uj)on  any 
[)articular  peison  or  party  of  persons. 

Of  all  the  opinions  I  have  sought  and 
gained  upon  this  sad  affair  even  the  best  must 
yet  be  rated  as  naught  but  guesses— guesses  at 
as  puzzling  a  mv-stery  as  has  ever  perturbed  the 
West. 


"  Prepare  to  Mount  !  " — Dismantling  a  Fort — What    Happened    to    the    Pasha's    House— The  Boat- 
Market  at  Brunei— The  Bedouin  and  the  Dog —Diving  for  Coal  -John    Chinaman's    Safe,  etc.,  etc. 


HE  remarkable  photo,  we  here  re- 
produce .sho\v.s  a  group  of  elephants 
belonging  to  one  of  the  heavy  bat- 
teries in  India.  The  elephants  have 
just  finished  their  morning  meal,  and 
the  sergeant  in  charge  of  the  parade  has  given 
the  order  "  Prepare  to  mount  I  "  At  this  signal 
the  mahouts  place  their  feet  on  the  elephants' 
outstretched  trunks  and  take  hold  of  their  ears. 


At  the  next  order,  "  Mount  I  '  they  climb 
nimbly  up  the  trunjcs  of  their  monster  charges, 
.seat  themselves  on  the  animals'  neck.s,  and  ride 
back  to  the  elephant  stables.  These  battery 
elephants  are  almost  human  in  their  intelligence, 
and  it  will  come  as  a  shock  to  many  Anglo- 
Indians  to  hear  that  the  military  authorities 
are  contemplating  the  abolition  of  the  elephant 
batteries  on  account  of  their  expense. 


Frotn  a': 


l-Kl:.l'AKI-,     U)    .ilwL.vi    .       -    A    hi.v.Nl-. 


;CK-%'AKD   OF   AN    INDIAN    ELETHANT    bATIF.RV. 


[Pholo. 


620 


THE    WIDE    WORIJ)     M  AC.A/IA  h. 


The  photograph  here  shown  illustrates  in  a 
strikinif  manner  a  somewhat  unusual  event— the 
dismantlini<  of  a  British  fort  and  the  hurling  of 
its  guns  into  the  sea.  Sliema  Fort,  at  Malta, 
was  recently  dismantled,  and  its  four  guns— two 


middle  of  the  unfortunate  pasha's  house,  tearing 
away  the  front  of  the  two  centre  rooms.  A 
week  later  the  Cephalonia,  another  (ircek  steamer, 
was  sailing  along  the  I'^uropean  side  when  her 
steering  gear  broke  down.     Swinging  round,  the 


ront  a\ 


DISMANTf.ING    A    BRITISH    FORT— THKi  >,\  I 


thiriy-Light  ton  and  two  eighteen  ton  muzzle- 
loaders  being  considered  obsolete,  were  thrown 
into  the  sea,  as  it  was  not  thought  worth  while 
to  incur  the  expense  of  sending  them  home  in 
order  that  the  metal  might  be  utilized.  The 
four  "  Woolwich  Infants"  now  lie  in  one  fathom 
of  water  near  the  fort.  Our  photograph 
shows  one  of  the  guns  in  the  very  act  of 
toppling  over  the  wall  into  the  sea. 

'I'he  photograph  next  repro- 
duced shows  a  singularly 
unlucky  house,  situated  in  the 
Turkish  village  of  Canlidja,  a 
suburb  of  Constantinople,  on 
the  Asiatic  shore  of  the  Bos- 
phorus.  The  house  is  the 
country  seat  of  a  pasha,  and 
was  wrecked,  as  shown  in 
the  photograi)h,  in  a  most 
curious  fashion,  having  been 
(nn  into  on  two  separate  occa- 
sions by  large  ocean-going 
steamers.  It  is  very  seldom 
that  a  large  vessel  leaves  the 
usual  course  along  the  Euro- 
pean side  of  the  Bosphorus, 
i)ul  on  October  15th  last  a 
Oreek  steamer  called  the 
Mfssa/ia  was  seized  by  the 
strong  current  and  drifted 
across  to  the  Asiatic  side, 
where     it     crashed     into    the       '"''j^^!,^^^  '""  '' 


big  shi[)  made  straight  for  the  same  house,  and 
with  her  hows  crushed  in  the  rooms  to  the  left 
of  those  previously  destroyed,  leaving  the  inter- 
vening rooms  uninjured.  It  is  not  surprising  to 
learn  that  after  the  first  accident  the  Turkish 
pasha  moved  out  his  furniture  and  abandoned 
his  ill-fated  house.  Two  such  out-of-the-way 
catastrophes  occurring  within  the  brief  space  of 
a  week  must  surely  be  unprecedented. 


t: 


-lUo    SIi;.\.MKl;S     1;A\    into    it    WITHIN'    A    WEEIC,    I.EAVINC;    IT    IN    THE 
CONDITION    HIiSK   SrIOWN.  [PkotO, 


ODDS     AND     i;\|)S. 


621 


(all  i)\'  a  liw  nou-s  on  his  gigantic  inslruiiRnl, 
whercuijon  must  ^^\cllIisitl■  echoes  conic  back 
from  the  surrounding  mountains,  taking  the  form 
of  distant  peals  of  church  bells  and  organs  play- 
ing. This  phenomenon  is  a  never-failing  source 
of  attraction  to  tourists,  and  the  horn  -  blower 
makes  quite  a  lot  of  money  during  the  season. 


A   COMniNATKlN   OF    PIETV   AND    UTILITAUIAMSM — A    COD    WHO 
ALSO   SERVES   THE    I-URPOSE   OF    A   SCARECROW. 

FfOiti  a  Photo. 

The  weird-looking  object  seen  in  the  above 
snap-shot  represents  a  god,  and  was  photo- 
graphed in  an  Indian  field.  A  more  remarkable 
combination  of  piety 
and  utilitarianism  it 
would  be  hard  to 
find,  for  by  placing 
the  figure  in  this 
position  it  is  made 
to  serve  the  pur- 
poses of  both  a  god 
and  a  scarecrow  at 
one  and  the  same 
time  I  Perhaps  it 
is  the  consciousness 
of  its  dual  responsi- 
bilities that  causes 
the  complacent  grin 
on  the  face  of  the 
figure. 

No  doubt  many 
of  our  readers  who 
have  visited  (irindel- 
wald,  in  Switzerland, 
have  seen  the  man 
with  the  big  Alpine 
lujrn  shown  in  the 
next  snap-shot.  I'or 
a  consideration  this 
person  blows  a  short 


THE    FALL   OF    THE   .MIGHTY —  IMF,    ■ 

From  a]         retkeats  befone  the  iki>ii    iiji;ii;k. 


!/■ 


1  he    HORN-BI.OWER    of   ORINDEI.WAf.D— A   FEW  N1ITKS   "N    U\-^    I'-slNUMEM 
iiRING  MOST  EXQUISITE    EClinES    FROM     I'llE    SUKKOIN  :)l  Mi    MOC  N  I'AI.^S. 

From  a  Photo. 


The  amusing  little 
snap-shot  shown 
above  comes  from 
the  British  camp  at 
Aden.  The  photo- 
graph was  taken 
U[)-country  in  South 
Arabia,  and  depicts 
the  wild  antics  of  a 
Ik'douin  tribesman 
w  ho  has  been 
attacked  by  a  play- 
ful Irish  terrier  pup. 
Ilie  iuuighly  son  of 
the  desert,  wild  with 
terror,  is  skipping 
ninthly  round  the 
(log's  owner,  who  is 
c  o  n  V  u  Ised  w  ith 
mirth.  l^\idently  the 
bare  cahes  of  the 
I5edouin  possessed 
an  attraction  for  the 
tl  o  g  w  h  i  c  h  their 
affrighted  owner  did 
not  at  all  appreciate. 


622 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    iMACiAZINE. 


At  various  times  we  have  published  in  this 
section  photographs  of  curious  bridges.  An- 
other erection  of  this  kind  is  here  shown.  'J'his 
bridge,  so  to  speak,  leads  from  nowhere  to 
nowhere,    and    stands    in    an    open    yard    near 


reality  it  depicts  a  scene  in  the  curious  boat- 
market  at  Brunei  city,  the  capital  of  the 
Sultanate  of  Brunei,  Borneo.  This  town  of 
about  ten  thousand  inhabitants  is  built  entirely 
on    piles    in    the    water,    and    consequently    all 


A    UUIDGE    1. HADING    "  l-'KO.M    NOWIUlRE   TO    NOWHHUIl    '  — 11     WAS    liUll.l'     11 J     IF.ST    THE    ABII.ITIKS   OK    AN    lN(;iNKhK'. 

From  a   I'Jiotp. 


the    railway   station    at    Seringapatam,    in    the 
Mysore     Province    of    India.       Its    history     is 
rather   a    curious    one.       When   Mysore   was    a 
mighty  kingdom  under  the  rule  of  Hyder  and 
'i'lppu,  the  latter,  who  was   also  affectionately 
known  as   the  "Tiger  of   Mysore,"  wanted  to 
build  a  suspension  bridge.     A  French  engineer 
volunteered  to  do  the   work,  and   in   order  to 
test  his  abilities  the  amiable  Tippu  asked  him 
to  give  a  practical  demon- 
stration   of    his    powers. 
Thus    It    was     that    the 
bridge  represented  in  our 
photograph    came    to    be 
built.      It  is  constructed 
of  bricks,   and,   although 
built    nearly   u    hundred 
years  ago,  is  still  in  very 
good      condition.      The 
bridge    is    about    one 
hundred    feet    long,    and 
if  one  goes  to  the  centre 
of  it  and  juujps  the  whole 
bridge      oscillates,      only 

iiiing  to  rest  after  some 
minutes. 

The  accompanying 
photograph  might  almost 
I'e  taken  fur  the  great 
crush  of  boats  at  some 
Oriental  Menley;    but  in 


communication  is  carried  on  by  means  of 
boats.  The  dealers  in  the  market  of  this 
Eastern  ^'enice  are  nearly  all  women,  the 
young  men  not  being  allowed  to  leave  the 
house.  The  number  of  boats  jammed  together 
in  this  remarkable  floating  market  is  immense, 
and  as  the  people  wear  huge  mushroom-like 
hats  to  protect  them  from  the  hot  sun  the 
general  effect  is  very  peculiar. 


CURIOUS    noA  I -MAKKlir    AT    URU.NEl    Cli  V,    ISOKNKO. 


\Photo. 


ODDS    AND    ENDS. 


{rnoU: 


r  roil  I  a\ 

Everybody    has 
heard   of  diving   for 
pearls    and  sponges, 
but    diving    for  coal 
seems     a     distinctly 
novel   occupation. 
The   photograph  we 
next  reproduce,  how- 
ever,    shows     some 
native  coal-divers  at 
work  in  the  harbour 
of  Colombo,  Ceylon. 
The  coal  the  natives 
bring  up  is  that  lost 
overboard     from 
steamers   coaling  in 
the  harbour,      ^^'hen 
a  vessel  has  finished 
replenishing     her 
bunkers    and   sailed 
from    the    port,    the 
nativesmoor  a  lighter 
over   the    place   where    she    lay   and 
lower  a  large  round  net  to  the  bottom 
of  the  harbour,  which  is  at  least  thirty 
feet  deep.     One   of  the  men    imme- 
diately dives,  and  remains  under  water 
as   long   as    possible,    filling   the   net 
with   lumps   of  coal.     This   operation 
is    repeated    again    and   again,  and   a 
large  amount  of  coal  recovered  which 
would  otherwise  be  lost. 

The  photograph  we  next  reproduce 
affords  a  good  exami)le  of  how  a 
difficult  problem  has  been  solved  by 
local  ingenuity.  The  vehicle  seen  in 
the  picture  is  a  Geiniiii-tva<:;en^  and  is 
the  only  vehicle  in  which  it  is  possible 
to  drive  to  the  top  of  the  well-known 
Gemmi  Pass  in  Switzerland.  Owing 
to  the  very  steep  gradients  and  zigzags 

on  the  road  to  the  I'ass  it  is  practi-       .___^ 

cally  impossible  to  keep  one's  seat  in  i-rom a\  li.NTicKPia.si;  i.n  ALnxuTisiNi: 


l-'rcm  a 


GEMMI-WAGEN. 


623 

an  ordinary  vehicle,  the  passenger 
being  in  danger  of  falling  out 
backwards  on  to  his  head,  or 
forwards  over  the  horse's  back. 
The  quaint  little  Gemmiwdgeft, 
however,  is  swung  on  a  pivot,  so 
tiiat  one  is  able  to  sit  comfortably 
upright  even  on  the  steepest  piece 
of  road.  Owing  to  the  difficulties 
of  the  road  the  horses  have  to 
be  led. 

Enterprise  in  advertising  some- 
times leads  to  curious  results. 
Look,  for  example,  at  the  snap-shot 
shown  at  the  bottom  of  this  page, 
which  was  taken  in 
the  capital  of  the 
Sandwich  Islands. 
It  shows  the  muni- 
cipal water  -  cart  at 
work,  the  sides  and 
end  of  the  vehicle 
being  covered  with 
advertisements.  The 
idea  of  advertising 
alcoholic  beverages 
on  a  water-cart  is 
distinctly  comical, 
and  at  first  sight, 
misled  by  the  shape 
of  the  cart,  the 
astonished  visitor  is 
apt  to  think  that  the 
streets  of  the 
Hawaiian  capital  are 
being    "  watered  " 


{Photo. 


with  beer  I 


Al     IIUNUI  UI  I'. 


yi'noto. 


62A 


THE    '\\'II)E    WORLD    ArACIAZlNE. 


At  first  sight 
the  annexed 
p  li  o  t  o  g  r  a  p  h 
might  be  taken 
for  a  view  of 
an  o  ],)  e  n  -  a  i  r 
slaiighler-liouse, 
but  it  is  nothing 
of  the  kind. 
The  picture 
show s  a  n  im- 
mense herd  of 
rattle  swimming 
across  the  W'ilge 
River,  in  South 
Africa,  which 
possesses 
extremely  sleep 
banks.  In  the 
photo,  the  ani- 
mals will  be  seen 
crowded  to- 
gether close  up 
to  the  bank,  and  unable  to  climb  up  owing  to 
its  steepness.  JMany  of  the  poor  beasts  v.ere 
drowned  in  their  frantic  attempts  to  get  out 
of  the  water. 

The    photograph    reproduced    herewith    was 


A    IIEKO  OI-'   CAI  1  l.li  CF;iiSsIN(,    I  h  k   uiir. 
FlOllta]        SIKEJ'NESS   OF     THE    HANI.;     IHE 


that  it  cannot 
be  o[)ened  un- 
less the  whole 
eight  partners  of 
the  concern  are 
present.  The 
safe  has  eight 
locks  and  each 
partner  holds 
the  key  of  his 
own  lock  ;  it  is 
thus  obviously 
impossible  for 
any  member  of 
the  firm  to 
abscond  with 
the  cash.  The 
arrange  m  e  n  t 
shows  that  John 
Chinaman  can 
safeguard  his 
interests  just  as 
well  as  a  \\'est- 
erner,  and  is  not  abo\e  adopting  Western  ideas 
when  he  sees  merit  in  them. 

The  gentleman  shown  in  the  next  photograph 
is  a  very  well-known  figure  in  the  market-place 
of  the  quaint  old  town  of  Berne,  in  Switzerland, 
lie  acts  as  a  kind  of  public  executioner  of  fowls. 
It  is  the  custom  in  Switzerland  to  buy  your  fowl 
alive  and  have  it  killed  afterwards,  so  as  to  run 
no  risk  of  the  flesh  being  stale.  This  man  has 
invented  a  patent  guillotine  for  killing  the  fowls 
humanely,  and  this  will  be  seen  in  front  of  him. 
Hie  fowl -executioner  charges  one  penny  per 
bn^d  for  his  services. 


K    KIVER.    SOUTH    AFKICA — OWING   TO    THE 
ANJAIAI.S    COUl.l)    NOT    CLIMII    11'.  \PholO. 


JOII 


■     f-.l*  -M  (      !■  A  IM  ' 

f'rulii  a  Photo. 


iHE    l'Ki;SE\T. 


';'!<.  I,  II,  a  Chinese  restaurant  in  Chinatown, 
•San  I'rancisco.  It  siiows  the  safe  of  the  estab- 
lishnu  nt,    the    curious    ilung    about    which     is 


I'roiii  a 


E  I'UHl.IC  FOWI.-EXECUllONER  OK  BERNE.  [PkotO. 


INDEX. 


ACROSS  EUROPE  IN  A  PERAMBULATOR         

Illustrations  by  C.  J.  Staniland,  R.I.,  and  from  a  Photograph. 

ADVENTURES  OF  THE  MARQUIS  DI  CORDOVA,  THE 

Illustrations  by  Paul  Hardy  and  from  Photographs  and  Facsimiles. 

ALLIGATOR  HUNT,  MADAME  SARAH  BERNHARDT'S 

Illustrations  by  W.  S.  Stacey  and  from  Photographs. 

BAHR-EL-GHAZAL,  ON  THE  MARCH  IN  THE 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

BALDWIN-ZIEGLER  POLAR  EXPEDITION,  THE 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

"  BALTA,"  LOST  IN  THE        

Illustrations  by  C.  J.  Staniland,  R.I.,  and  from  a  Photograph. 

BASQUE  IDYLL,  A  

Illustrations  by  W.  S.  Stacey  and  from  a  Photograph. 

BATTLE  OF  THE  BANKS,  THE       

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

BOERS  HUNT,  HOW  THE       

Illustrations  by  R.  B.  M.  Paxton  and  from  a  Photograph. 

BRIGANDS,  SIXTEEN  DAYS  AMONG        

Illustrations  by  Paul  Hardy  and  from  Photographs. 

BRINK  OF  ETERNITY,  ON  THE 

Illustrations  by  Madame  C.  Amyot  and  from  Photographs. 

"BRONCHO-BUSTING^'  CONTEST,  A        

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

CANTONMENT  PETS      

Illustrations  by  Tom  Browne,  R.B.A. 

CARAVAN  LIFE  IN  THE  NEW  FOREST 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

CARRIED  AWAY  ON  THE   ICE         

Illustrations  by  A.  Pearse  and  from  a  Photograph. 

CEYLON,  HOW  WE  ESCAPED  FROM        

^  •  •  Illustrations  by  R.  B.  M.  Paxton  and  from  a  Portrait  and  Facsimiles. 

CHRISTMAS  ON  A  TOMBSTONE 

!  •  Illustrations  by  J.  Finnemore,  R.I.,  and  from  a  Photograph. 

CITY  OF  THE  CALIPHS,  TO  THE 

Illustiations  from  Photographs. 

COUSIN  JACK'S  "FOLLY"      

Illustrations  by  Frank  P.   Mahony. 


...     /..//.  Eiscittna)ui.  390 

Told  by  Himself.  437 

Frederick  Moore .  1 9 

.Captain  H.  E.  Hayines,  R.A.M.C.    477,  560 

...     E.  Briggs  Baldwin.     396,    432,  587 

Rook  Carnegie.  48 5 

Mrs.' Corballis.  540 

Day  J  lien  Willey.  27^ 

...  Field-Cornet  Hercules  D.   Viljoen.  147 

...     Spiio  X.  Slavrotilopoiilos.  298 

Professor  Carl  Hoff.  129 

A.   V.  Storer.  545 

Staff-Serg.'.  E.  Moor.  95 

7.   Arnold.  13 

Mrs.  Harold  Tremayne.  472 

Ex-Field- Cornet   William  H.  .Steyu.  315 

..  Mrs.   Akc-Twtedu.  249 

J.   A.   l.ee.  40 

A'.  J.  Hydi.  192 


626 


THE    WIDE    WORLD   MAGAZINE. 


CRUISE  OF  THE  MILLIONAIRES,  THE 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

CYCLING  HONEYMOON,  A 

Illustrations  by  C.  J.  Staniland,  R.I.,  and  from  Photograph>. 

DANGEROUS  WATERS,  IN     

Illustrations  by  \V.  S.  Stacey  and  from  a  Portrait. 

DEAD\YOOD  CO-\CH,  THE      

Illustrations  by  Sheldon  Williams  and  fiom  Photographs. 

DERVISHES,  MY  VISIT  TO  THE  HOWLING     

Illustrations  by  A.   Pearse. 

"DEVIL-SHARK,"  THE 

Illustrations  by  E.  S.  Hodgson. 

DIAMOND  CUT  DIAMOND      

Illustrations  by  Harry  Rowntree  and  from  a  Portrait. 

DISAPPEAR.\NCE  OF  MR.  EGAN,  THE 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

ECCENTRICITIES  OF  EUSTACE,  THE      

Illustrations  by  Frank  P.  Mahony. 

ELEPHANT  FIGHTS  IN  INDIA         

Illustrations  from   Photographs  and  a  Drawing. 

ENTOMBED  IN  A  WELL         

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

ESCAPE  FROM  MEXICO,  MY  

Illustrations  by  Warwick  Goble  and  from  a  Photograph. 

FKIHTING  A  FIRE  FOR  A  FORTUNE      

Uluslrati'Ws  from  Photographs. 

"  FOREIGN  DEVILS,"  THE  ROUT  OF  THE       

Illustrations  by  J.  Finiiemore,  R.  I.,  and  from  a  Photograph. 

ERASER  RIVER,  SALMON-CATCHING  ON  THE 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

HOXEY.MOON,  A  CYCLING 

Illustrations  by  C.  J.  Staniland,  R.I.,  and  from  Photographs. 

HORSES  WERE  FOUND,  HOW  THE  

Illu.strations  by  Norman  H.  Hardy  and  from  Photographs. 

HOWLING  DERVISHES,  MY  VISIT  TO  THE     

Illustrations  by  A.  Pearse. 

HUNTING  OF  HARRY  TRACY,  THE 

Illustrations  by  E.  S.  Hodgson  and  from  Photographs. 

INDIA,  ELEPHANT  FIGHTS  IN       

Illustrations  from  Photographs  and  a  Drawing. 

IN  SEARCH  OF  PIRATE  TREASURE         

Illustrations  by  E.  S.  Hodgson  and  from  Photographs  and  a  Chart. 
ISLA.ND  OF  MURDERERS,  THE      

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

KASH.MIR,  A  WALKING  TOUR  IN 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 
LADY   PRLSON  CHAPLAIN,  A 

llluslralions  from  Photographs. 

"LAUTARO,"  THE  SEIZING  OF  THE 

Illustrations  by  E.  S.  Hodgson  and  from  Photographs. 
LIFE  IN  LAHRADOR 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

LOST  IN  THE  "BALTA" 

Illustrations  by  C.  J.  Staniland,  R.I.,  and  from  a  Photograph. 


PAGE. 

vV.  G.  Knowles.     254,    378 
J-   P.    Conghlan.        79 


IV.    C.  Jameson  Keid.  505 

...  Alfred  Butkholdei.  107 

/■   E.   Patter  sou.  89 

...  Colonel  Julius  G.    Tucker.  523 

...  Hill  Rowan.  239 

Walter  G.   Patterson.  612 

H.  J.   A.  Hei~vey.  568 

Herbert  Lyndon.  605 

A.   M.   Manly.  368 

S.  Mc Reynolds.  19S 

[ohn    Watson  Dodg:.  326 

B.  J.   Hyde.  469 

Tkos.  L.  Jarj-ett.  %'>, 

J.  P.    Cotighlan.  79 

F.  I.  McNeik.  64 

J.  E.   Patterson.  89 

Williani  Macleod  Raine.  211 

Herbert  Lyndon.  605 

Geo.  Kirkendale .  452 

Chas.  H.  Hawes,  B.A.  573 

...Miss  A.   V.  Stezvart.  184 

Rudolph  de  Cordova.  500 

R.  E.   Davis.  271 

C.    Turville  Gardner.  29 

Rook  Carnegie.  485 


INDEX. 
MACARONI.  TMK  MAKING  OF         

Illustrations  from  PhotographN. 

MADAGASCAR,  A  THOUSAND  MILES  AWHEEL  IN... 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

MAN-EATERS  OF  TSAVO,  THE        

Illustrations  by  I'aul  Hardy  ami  fron\  Pliotograplir.. 

MARQUIS  DI  CORDOVA,  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  THE 

Illustrations  by  Paul  Hardy  and  from  Photographs  and  Facsimiles. 

MEDICINE  MAN,  THE 

Illustrations  by  C.  J.  Staniland,  R.I.,  and  from  a  Portrait. 

MEXICO,  MV  ESCAPE  FROM 

Illustrations  by  Warwick  Goble  and  from  a  Photograph. 

^HLLIONAIRES,  THE  CRUISE  OF  THE 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

MOROCCO,  THROUGH  UNKNOWN     

Illustrations  by  E.  S.  Hodgson  and  from  Photographs. 

MURDERERS,  THE  ISLAND  OF       

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

MV  CHUM  JACK 

Illustrations  by  Frank  P.  Mahony  and  from  a  Photograph  and  Facsimile. 

.MVSTERIOUS  MISSION,  A      

Illustrations  by  A.  Pearse. 

NETTING  TIGERS  IN  THE  JUNGLE         

Illustrations  by  Harry  Dixon  and  from  Photographs. 

NEW  FOREST,  CARAVAN  LIFE  IN  THE  

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

NEWFOUNDLAND,  AFTER  WOODLAND  CARIBOU  IN 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

■"NEWRY  BEAR,'"  THE  STORY  OF  THE 

Illustrations  by  Tom  Browne,  R.B.A.,  and  from  a  Photograph. 

NIGERIA,  TWENTY-FIVE  YEARS  IN        

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

^'NO  TUCKER!" 

Illustrations  by  Harry  Rowntree. 


627 

••A'.ie. 
Edouard  Charles.     40S 

Lieut. -Colonel  f.  //.  ruUersoii,  D.S.O.     3,  112 

Told  by  Himself.  437 

J.  E.  Franklin.  352 

S.   Ale  Reynolds.  198 

l\.  G.  A'nowles.     254,  378 

...         ...  G.  A.  Riipei-.  1 19 

Chas.  H.  Hawes,  B..\.  573 

Ocfaviits  Bartlett.  489 

J.  E.  Patterson.  4q3 

fohn  Swaffhant.      244 

J/.  Arnold.        13 

F.  C.  Scions.     2S9,    34-'!,    45S 


. . .  Arthur  Ross  Burns. 


jj 


S 


M^illiam  Wallace,  C.M.G.     160,    265 
...  E.  Way  Elkington.       50 


ODDS  AND  ENDS 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 


From  all  Parts  of  the  World.      loi,  203,  30S,  411,  518,  619 


PALACE  OF  PRACTICAL  JOKES,  A     

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

PARIS  TO  NEW  YORK  OVERLAND  

Illustrations  from  Photographs  and  a  Map. 

PAYMASTER'S  PERIL,  THE 

Illustrations  by  W.  B.  Wollen,  R.I..  and  from  a  Photograph. 

PEARL-PO.VCHERS,  THE  

Illustrations  by  W.  C.  Symons  and  from  a  Photograph  and  Chart. 

I'IR.\TE  TREASURE,  IN  SEARCH  OF       

Illustrations  by  E.  S    Hodgson  and  from  Photographs  and  a  Chart. 

POLAR  EXPEDITION,  THE  BALDWIN-ZIEGLER 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

PRAIRIE  FIRE,  A  "TENDERFOOT"  IN  A         

Illustrations  by  Sheldon  Williams  and  from  Photographs. 

PRESIDENT  ROOSEVELT  AND  THE  HORSE-THIEVES 

Illustrations  by  H.  Sandham  and  from  a  Photograph. 

ROUT  OF  THE  "FOREIGN  DEYILS,"  THE       

Illustrations  by  J.  Finnemore,  R.I.,  and  from  a  Photograph. 

SALMON-CATCHING  ON  THE  FR.ASER  RIVER 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

SEIZING  OF  THE  "LAUTARO,"  THE       

Illustrations  by  E.  S.  Hodgson  and  from  Photographs. 


Herbert   Vivian.  233 

Harry  de   Windt,  F.R.G.S.      170,    219,    360,    510,  530 

The  Marquis  of  Rtivigny.  23 

D.   F.  Seton-Carruthers.  594 

Geo.  Kirkendale.  452 

E.  Briggs  Baldwin.     396,    432,  5S7 

Ralph  Slock.  35 

Frederick  Moore.  372 

B.  J.  Hyde.  469 

Thos.  L.Jarrett.  83 

R.   E.   Davis.  271 


628 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


SINKING  TOWN,  A        

Illastrations  from  Photographs. 

SIX   LITTLE  MAIDS  FROM   SCHOOI 

Illustrations  by  VV.  S.  Stacey. 

SIXTEEN  DAYS  AMONG  BRIGANDS         

Illustrations  by  Paul  Hardy  and  from  Photograpt.s. 

SKiri'ER  JOHN'S  FIRST  CRUISE 

Illustrations  by  C.  J.  Staniland,  R.I. 

SLEIGH  TOUR  IN  NORWAY,  MY  ^^D-WINTER.— 11. 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

S.MUGGLERS  OF  THE  STAKED  J'LAINS,  THE 

Illustrati./ns  by  A.  Pearse  and  from  Photographs. 

.STORY  OF  THE  "  NEWRY  BEAR,"   THE 

Illustrations  by  Tom  Browne,  K.B..'^.,  and  from  a  Photograph. 

"TENDERFOOT"  IN  A  PRAIRIE  FIRE,   A         

Illustrations  by  Sheldon  Williams  and  from  Photographs. 

TERRIBLE  JOURNEY,  MY       

Illustrations  by  W.  S.  Stacey. 

THOUSAND  MILES  AWHEEL  IN  MADAGASCAR,  A 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

TI(;ERS  IN  THE  JUNGLE,  NETTING       

Illustrations  by  Harry  Di.xon  and  from  Photographs. 

TO.MHSTONE,  CHK'ISTM.^S  ON  A 

Illustrations  by  J.  Finnemore,  R.I.,  and  from  a  Photograph. 

TRA.MP  IN  SPAIN,  A      

Illustrations  by  Warwick  Goble  and  from   Photographs  and  Facsimile 

TRAPPED  BY  A  TREE 

Illustrations  by  Norman  H.  Hardy. 

TRCJUBLE  AT  KA.MBAKHTPORE,  THE 

Illustrations  by  H.  R.  .Millar. 

TSAVO,  THE  MAN-E.\TERS  OF       

Illustrations  by  Paul  Hardy  and  from  Photographs. 

TWENTY-FIYE  YEARS  IN  NIGERIA  

Illustrations  fron    Photographs. 

UNKNOWN  .MOROCCO,  THROUGH 

Illustrations  by  E.  S.  Hodgson  and  from  Photograpli^. 

WALKIN(;  'I(;UR  IN   K.\SH.MIR,  A 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

•AAK  (JN  THE  SKEENA,  THE  

Illustrations  by  Norman  H.  Hardy  and  from  a  Photograph. 

W.VIERSPOUT,  CAUGHT  IN  A         

Illustrations  by  E.  S.  Hodgson. 

WHAT  HAPPENED  AT  THE  BEND 

Illustrations  by  H.  Sandham  and  from  a  Portrait. 
\VII.\r  HAPPENED  TO  HUBBARD 

Illu^tr.'aions  l>y  Tom  Browne,  K.B..^. 

WO(JDLANI)  CARIBOU  IN  NEWFOUNDLAND,  AFTER 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 


PAGE. 

...            .'!.£.  Littler.  446 

Mrs.  Fred  Maturin.  1 79 

...     Spiro  X.  Stavroulopoiilos.  298 

The  Rev.  Wi}t.  Forbes.  154 

...  Mrs.  L.  F.  K.  von  Thiele.  69 

Captai))  G.  des  Barres.  581 

Arthur  Ross  Burns.  338 

Ralph  Stock.  35 

Miss  Woodcock.  228 

Miss  Lucy  Broad.  56 

John  Swaffham.  244 

...   Mrs.  Alcc-Tweedie.  249 

Bait  Kennedy.      134,    259,    330,    425,  550 

IV.  J.  Mowbray.  141 

...A.  Rattray.  403 

Lieut. -Colonel  J.  II.   Patterson,  D.S.O.      3,  112 

William  Wallace,  C..M.G.     160,  265 


...  6".  ./.  Raper.     119 


Miss  A.   V.  Stewart. 

184 

Roger  Pocock. 

464 

J.  E.   Patterson. 

3^3 

D.  F.  Seton-Carrtithers. 

419 

J.  E.   Patterson. 

284 

F.  C.  Selous.     289,    344, 

45S 

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