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I^reseirtcu  to 
of  tlje 

Pmtesttg  of  ®oroitto 

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Mrs.  Eric  E.  Ryerson 


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THE  WIDE   WORLD    MAGAZINE 

October,    1904,   to  March,    1905 


T  II  E 


WIDE   WORLD 

MAGAZINE 


AN  ILLUSTRATED 

MONTHLY 

' 

OF 

TRUE  NARRATIVE 

ADVENTURE 

TRAVEL 

CUSTOMS 

AND 

SPORT 

"TRUTH  IS 
STRANGER 
THAN 

FICTION" 

Vol.  XIV. 

• 

OCTOBER 

1904, 

TO 

MARCH 

1905 

L ONDON : 

GEORGE   NEWNES,   LTD. 
SOUTHAMPTON  ST. 
STRAND 

"HE    SAW    THE    HEAD    OF    SOME    HORRIBLE    MONSTER    EMERGE    FROM    AN 

OPENING    IN    THE    CLIFF." 


(see   pack  7.) 


The  Wide  World  [Magazine. 


Vol.  XIV. 


NOVEMBER,   1904 


No.  79. 


JBu^*K 


By  T.   R.  Hermann. 

In    the   course    of    their    work    divers    meet    with    many    strange     and    exciting     adventures,    finding 

themselves    in    situations    where     only    an     iron    nerve    and     ready    resource     can    save    their    lives. 

In  this  article  Mr.   Hermann  relates  a  collection  of  stories  of  peril  told  by  well-known  divers. 


is  with  the  romantic,  not  the 
technical,  side  of  diving  that  I  pro- 
pose to  deal  in  this  article.  From 
time  to  time  some  very  curious 
things  have  happened  to  divers,  and 
some  very  plucky  descents  have  been  made.  I 
am  indebted  to  the  good  offices  of  Messrs.  Siebe, 
Gorman,  and  Co.,  the  well-known  submarine 
engineers,  for  their  kindness  in  enabling  me  to 
secure  the  striking  narratives  which  follow. 

A  diver  needs  a  good  supply  of  that  mental 
courage  known  as  presence  of  mind,  in  order  to 
deal  with  the  unforeseen  emergencies  which  may 
at  any  time  arise,  threatening,  perhaps,  to  destroy 
him.  As  an  instance  of  this,  let  me  relate 
a  thrilling  experience  '  that  befell  a  Whit- 
stable  diver  named  Saffrey  some  little  while 
back.  A  vessel  had  gone  down  not  far 
from  the  Kentish  Knock.  Her  cargo  con- 
sisted of  rum,  which  was  considered  well 
worth  salving.  The  wreck  lay  in  somewhat 
shallow   water,    and    divers    were    engaged    to 

Vol.  xiv. — 1. 


descend  and  bring  up  the  cargo,  among  them 
being  Safifrey.  He  made  a  descent  in  the 
ordinary  way,  and,  arriving  upon  the  vessel's 
deck,  proceeded  to  remove  the  hatches.  This, 
of  course,  took  him  some  considerable  time, 
as  working  below  water  is  much  slower  than 
similar  labour  on  dry  land  :  a  diver's  movements 
are  necessarily  deliberate,  encumbered  as  he  is 
with  impedimenta,  and  working  among  formid- 
able obstructions. 

The  hatches  being  removed,  the  cargo  of 
rum-casks  lay  in  view.  Saffrey  next  descended 
into  the  hold,  in  order  to  get  the  casks  in  readi- 
ness to  be  sent  to  the  surface.  Then  came  the 
catastrophe.  The  removal  of  the  hatches  and 
the  motion  caused  by  the  descending  diver 
created  some  displacement  of  the  cargo,  and  as 
the  diver  climbed  down  several  big  casks  floated 
upwards.  Suddenly  Saffrey  made  a  horrifying 
discovery.  His  life-line  and  his  air-tube  were 
both  jammed  between  one  of  the  barrels  and 
the  deck  above  his  head  ! 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


The  result  of  this,  of  course,  was  that  no  air 
could  reach  him  from  above,  and  that  which 
was  already  in  his  helmet  was  sufficient  to  last 
him  only  about  two  minutes  !  It  was  just  one 
of  those  appalling  situations  where  absolute 
coolness  and  quick-witted  resource  alone  can 
save  one's  life.  What  did  Saffrey  do  ?  Hastily 
whipping  out  his  sheath-knife,  he  severed  his 
life-line  above  where  it  was  pinned  by  the  barrel, 
and  did  the  same  with  his  air-tube,  thus  releasing 
himself.  Then  he  gave  the  six  pulls  on  his  life- 
line which  indicate  that  something  is  wrong, 
and  that  those  above  are  to  haul  up  quickly. 
This  was  done,  but  only  just  in  the  nick  of  time, 
for  when  he  arrived  at  the  surface  the  diver  was 
in  a  half-fainting  con- 
dition. 

Perhaps  one  of  the 
most  thrilling  and 
dangerous  expedi- 
tions ever  undertaken 
by  a  diver  was  that 
of  Messrs.  Siebe 
and  Gorman's  head 
diver,  Alexander 
Lambert,  in  connec- 
tion with  the  Severn 
Tunnel.  It  was  a 
deed  of  tremendous 
pluck,  and  deserves 
to  rank  with  the  most 
valorous  act  ever  per- 
formed in  the  blood- 
heat  of  battle.  The 
workings  of  the 
Severn  Tunnel  were 
flooded,  and  there 
was  sixty  feet  of  water 
in  the  two  hundred- 
feet  shaft.  The  flood 
was  tearing  through 
a  doorway,  the  iron 
door  of  which  was 
open,  from  the  main 
tunnel  into  a  smaller 
tunnel  about  eight 
feet  wide  and  the  same  high, 
distant  about  a  quarter  of 
bottonrof  the  shaft,  and  was  nearly  full  of  water 
and  debris.  The  task  that  had  to  be  performed 
was  for  somebody  to  make  his  way  to  the  iron 
door  and  close  it,  thus  stopping  the  inrush  of 
water.  It  was  a  task  that  many  a  stout-hearted 
man  might  be  excused  for  refusing  to  attempt. 
But  Lambert  volunteered  to  do  it. 

He  was  equipped  with  an  ordinary  diving 
dress,  except  that  he  had  neither  air-tube  nor 
life-line  :  the  latter,  in  fact,  would  have  been 
quite  useless.     In  place  of  the  former  he  carried 


DIVER    LAMBERT,  WHOSE   TERRIBLE    EXPERIENCE    IN  THE    FLOODED 
SEVERN    TUNNEL    IS   HERE    RELATED. 

From   a   Photo,    by   G.    Wade  &*  Co.,  Mile   End. 


This  tunnel  was 
a    mile    from  the 


with  him  a  supply  of  oxygen  in  a  small  reservoir, 
and  a  crowbar.  He  descended  the  two  hundred- 
feet  shaft,  through  the  sixty  feet  of  water,  and 
then  made  his  way  along  the  eight-foot  tunnel 
for  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  the  whole  time  battling 
with  all  kinds  of  obstructions,  but  finally  reach- 
ing the  doorway  in  safety.  Lambert  found  that 
the  door  was  held  fast  by  some  stout  iron  rails, 
which  called  for  pretty  hard  work  to  release 
them.  He  attacked  his  task  with  considerable 
energy,  being  anxious  to  complete  it  and  return 
victorious. 

The  diver  became  so  absorbed  in  what  he 
was  doing  that  he  quite  forgot  for  the  time  being 
the  exceptional  conditions  under  which  he  was 

working  and  gave  no 
thought  to  his  supply 
of  oxygen.  Then, 
suddenly,  it  flashed 
across  his  mind  that 
the  precious  gas  must 
be  getting  pretty  low, 
and  as  it  would  have 
to  last  him  during 
the  journey  back  he 
decided  to  return  at 
once  and  leave  his 
work  for  the  present 
unfinished.  So  he  set 
off  as  quickly  as  he 
could,  now  stumbling 
over  a  pile  of  debris, 
now  battling  with  a 
swirling  eddy,  and 
hoping  against  hope 
all  the  time  that  the 
oxygen  would  not  give 
out  and  leave  him 
to  perish  miserably  in 
that  flooded  tunnel. 

He  succeeded  in 
reaching  the  top  of 
the  shaft  in  safety, 
but  when  his  air-tank 
came  to  be  examined 
it  was  discovered  that 
there  was  only  sufficient  oxygen  left  to  have 
lasted  him  for  another  two  or  three  minutes  ! 
Thus,  almost  by  a  miracle,  his  life  had  been 
preserved.  One  would  suppose  that  such  a 
narrow  escape  would  have  daunted  a  man  from 
making  a  further  attempt ;  but  Lambert  knew  no 
fear.  Again  he  descended  the  shaft,  journeying 
through  the  sixty  feet  of  water  and  along  that 
perilous  quarter  of  a  mile  of  tunnel  to  the  door- 
way, where  he  completed  his  task  and  returned 
triumphant. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  mishaps  I  ever 
heard    of  happened  to  a  diver  named   Quick. 


BENEATH    THE    WATERS. 


He  was  working  at  the  Penarth  Docks,  and 
descended  to  repair  an  injury  to  the  bows  of  a 
vessel  which  had  had  a  hole  knocked  in  it  by 
an  anchor.  The  hole  had  been  filled  up  with 
cotton-waste,  and  Quick  went  down  to  fix  a 
plate  over  it.  Powerful  pumps  were  at  work 
above  emptying  the  vessel  of  water.  While 
busy     below     Quick      inadvertently     knocked 


That,  however,  would  not  have  conveyed  to  his 
attendants  the  extraordinary  nature  of  the  mis- 
hap, although  it  would  have  drawn  their  atten- 
tion to  him. 

While  the  diver  hung  there  helpless,  dreading 
what  would  happen  next,  the  worst  misfortune 
of  all  occurred.  His  dress  became  torn — only 
a  slight  rent,  but  the  water  percolated  through 


UK    TRIED    TO   GET   AT   HIS   LIFE-LINE,    BUT    HE   WAS   UNABLE   TO    REACH    IT. 


out  the  cotton-waste,  and  the  tremendous 
suction  caused  by  the  pumping  drew  the 
diver  in  by  the  elbow,  and  held  him  fast  and 
helpless.  His  first  and  principal  anxiety  was  to 
release  himself,  so  he  struggled  violently,  but 
this  only  made  matters  worse,  and  landed  him 
farther  into  the  hold  of  the  vessel.  Then  he 
tried  to  get  at  his  life-line,  but,  owing  to  his 
peculiar  position,  he  was  unable  to  reach  it, 
being  securely  pinned  on  both  sides.  Even 
supposing  he  had  been  able  to  get  hold  of  the 
life-line,  it  is  doubtful  if  he  could  have  made 
himself  intelligible  above,  as  the  nearest  signal 
in  the  code   is,  ;'Foul  of  the  wreck,"  six  pulls. 


and  gradually  rose  inside  towards  his  helmet. 
Was  ever  a  man  in  a  more  terrible  position  : 
held  fast  against  a  ship's  side  by  an  irresistible 
force  and  literally  drowning  by  inches?  Quick 
gave  up  hope;  he  never  expected  to  reach  the 
surface  alive.  And  then  a  remarkable  thing 
happened.  Having  reached  to  the  level  of  his 
chin  the  water  stopped,  held  back  by  the 
pressure  of  air  in  his  helmet  !  In  this  awful  pre 
dicament—  unable  to  move,  and  dreading  that  any 
moment  some  alteration  of  pressure  would  set 
the  water  flowing  once  more — Quick  remained 
for  a  couple  of  hours,  when  it  suddenly 
occurred  to  those  above  that  something  must 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


be  wrong  below.  Divining  the -nature  of  the 
trouble,  they  at  once  proceeded  to  pump  water 
back  into  the  vessel,  with  the  result  that  the 
unfortunate  diver  was  soon  washed  out  of  the 
trap  into  which  he  had  been  drawn  and  hauled 
up  to  the  surface  in  a  fainting  condition. 

Another  diver,  W.  G.  Nutkins,  had  what  I 
consider  to  be  the  narrowest  escape  from  death 
that  any  man  could  possibly  have,  either  on 
earth  or  in  the  waters  beneath.  He  was 
engaged  in  blasting  operations  in  Newport 
Docks,  where  a  huge  wall  was  being  blown  away. 
The  method  adopted  was  to  deposit  dynamite 
in  the  interstices  of  the  wall  and  then  clay  it 
up,  the  charge  being 
fired  with  a  battery. 
The  work  of  thus 
loosening  the  large 
blocks  of  stone  had 
been  successfully  ac- 
complished, and  the 
task  of  hauling  them 
up  to  the  surface  was 
next  proceeded  with. 
The  blocks  were  fixed 
into  a  large  hook  and 
taken  up  by  a  crane. 
One  of  the  blocks, 
while  suspended,  slip- 
ped from  the  hook 
and  fell  to  the  bottom. 
All  those  above  who 
saw  it  fall—just  about 
the  spot  where  Nut- 
kins  was  supposed  to 
be  working  —  never 
thought  to  see  that 
diver  again  alive.  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  the 
great  stone  just 
escaped  him,  but  so 
near  was  it  to  him 
that  it  knocked  the 
pipe  clean  off  the  back 
of  his  helmet  ! 

Many  stories  concerning  divers'  fights  with 
sea-monsters — the  majority  of  them  apocryphal 
— have  been  told,  but  the  following  account  of 
Diver  Lambert's  combat  with  a  shark  is  abso- 
lutely authentic.  While  engaged  on  some 
repairs  to  a  ship's  bottom  the  diver  became 
conscious  that  some  large  body  was  moving 
near  him.  (lazing  into  the  shadowy  depths  he 
thought  he  could  make  out  the  greyish  form  of 
some  formidable  creature,  but  was  unable  to 
define  clearly  what  it  was.  He  therefore  pro- 
ceeded with  his  work,  throwing  an  occasional 
glance  in  the  direction  of  his  intangible  foe.  It 
was  not  long  before  he  was  able  to  make  out 


DIVER     \V.     G. 


clearly  what  it  was  that  menaced  him,  as  the 
mysterious  creature  ventured  in  closer  and 
revealed  its  identity  in  the  shape  of  a  big  shark. 
Nothing  particular  happened  that  day,  the  shark 
merely  contenting  himself  with  watching  the 
diver.  The  next  day  he  came  again  and  simply 
watched,  but  nothing  more.  The  third  day 
saw  him  at  his  post  again,  eternally  watching 
and  apparently  endeavouring  to  make  up  his 
mind  whether  this  strange  biped  was  worth 
attacking.  At  last  this  continual  espionage 
got  too  much  for  the  diver,  and  he  deter- 
mined to  bring  matters  to  a  head.  The 
fourth    day    arrived,    and    so    did    the    shark. 

Thereupon  Lambert 
signalled  for  a  large 
knife  and  a  looped 
rope  to  be  sent  down. 
Upon  the  arrival  of 
these  the  diver  adop- 
ted a  daring  ruse.  He 
baited  the  shark  with 
his  bare  hand  —  an 
invitation  which  was 
promptly  accepted. 
On  came  the  great 
brute  straight  for  the 
hand,  and  having  ar- 
rived within  striking 
distance  he  turned 
over  on  his  back,  as 
is  the  custom  with 
sharks  when  attacking, 
and  shot  forward. 
But  at  that  moment 
the  hand  was  quickly 
withdrawn  and  the 
diver's  knife  plunged 
into  the  creature's 
side,  crimsoning  the 
surrounding  water. 
Like  a  flash  the  shark 
turned  and  came  at 
him  again,  but  Lam- 
bert dodged  the  on- 
slaught and  once  more  sheathed  his  knife  in  the 
brute's  side.  So  this  strange  fight  to  a  finish 
went  on,  till  finally  the  diver  triumphed,  and  a 
few  minutes  later  the  carcass  of  the  shark  was 
being  drawn  to  the  surface  in  the  looped  rope. 
Lambert  keeps  the  creature's  backbone  as  a 
memento  of  the  duel. 

Some  years  ago  a  curious  thing  happened 
during  certain  diving  operations  at  Dover.  It 
occurred  while  Sir  John  Jackson  and  Co.  were 
adding  the  turret  to  the  pier,  as  a  means  of 
breaking  the  water.  While  a  diver  was  below 
he  signalled  hastily  to  be  drawn  up,  and  upon 
arriving  at  the  surface,  looking  much  scared,  he 


NUTKINS,    WHO     HAD     A     NARROW     ESCAPE     FROM 
DEATH    IN    NEWPORT    DOCKS. 

From  a  Photo,  by  C.  Harris,  Dover. 


BENEATH    THE    WATERS. 


related  a  strange  story.  While  working  below, 
he  said,  he  saw  the  head  of  some  horrible 
monster  emerge  from  an  opening  in  the  cliff, 
threatening  to  attack  him.  The  creature,  how- 
ever, appeared  to   be    imprisoned — was  unable 


development  to  a  huge  size  prevented  its  escap- 
ing from  its  prison,  but  it  managed  to  subsist 
by  darting  out  so  far  as  it  could  get,  and  grabbing 
unsuspecting  fish  as  they  passed  by.  In  confir- 
mation  of  this,  on   the  sea-bed  exactly  beneath 


I  HI--    STKAM.E    ^  11,11  I 


A    IINISlr    WENT    ON. 


to  get  its  body  altogether  through  the  opening. 
The  story  was  generally  received  with  scepti- 
cism, and  the  affrighted  diver  was  believed 
to  be  suffering  from  an  attack  of  "nerves." 
As,  however,  he  stuck  stoutly  to  his  tale  Diver 
W.  S.  Johnson,  the  foreman,  decided  to  descend 
and  investigate.  He  shortly  after  reappeared, 
and  entirely  confirmed  the  first  diver's  narrative, 
for  he  had  himself  seen  the  monster.  As  a 
result  all  the  divers  engaged  at  the  Admiralty 
Pier  became  alarmed,  and  would  not  go  near  the 
spot  where  this  maiine  nightmare  held  sway. 

Subsequent  investigation  elucidated  the 
mystery.  Some  time  previously,  in  course  of 
work  at  the  pier,  many  blocks  of  stone  had  been 
dumped  at  the.  end  of  it,  and  by  some  means 
a  conger  eel  had  got  imprisoned  in  a  cavity 
among  them,  the  eel  at  the  time,  it  was  supposed, 
not  being  fully  grown.     Its  subsequent  natural 


the  aperture  were  to  be  seen  the  remnants  of 
demolished  fish.  The  conger  was  left  unmolested 
in  his  subaqueous  chamber  for  some  time,  until, 
when  the  pier  was  finally  joined  to  the  old 
works,  it  became  necessary  to  still  further  im- 
prison him,  and  the  only  aperture  to  his  prison- 
house  was  cemented  up.  Perhaps  centuries 
hence,  when  the  bed  of  the  ocean  is  dry  land, 
some  scientist  may  come  upon  the  impression 
of  the  conger  in  some  fossiliferous  deposit  and 
give  him  a  name  as  long  as  his  body,  but  the 
geologist  will  never  know  the  fun  the  monster 
had  with  the  Dover  divers  unless  his  ancestors 
have  wisely  handed  him  down  a  copy  of  The 
Wide  World  Magazine. 

I  may  say  that  this  curious  story  is  vouched 
for  by  all  the  divers  concerned,  including 
Messrs.  Siebe,  Gorman,  and  Co.  and  Sir  John 
Jackson  and  Co. 


An   Eventful    Elopement. 

By  L.  S.  Merchant. 

The  romantic  story   of  a  runaway  marriage — how  the  lovers  galloped  away  at  top  speed,  with  the 
infuriated  father  in  hot  pursuit ;  and  the  exciting  incident  that  happened  on  the  return  journey. 


HERE  were  a  number  of  us  in  the 

smoking-room   of  a  Chicago   hotel, 

and  we  were  chatting  idly  when  the 

conversation     drifted    to    weddings 

and  wedding-days. 

'Talking  of  wedding-days,"  said  John  Marsh, 

a  well-known  and  respected  commercial  traveller, 

"reminds  me  of  mine.     It  was  one  of  the  most 

exciting  days  of  my  life,  and  I  don't    think    I 

-should  care  to  repeat  the  experience." 

This  statement,  of  course,  aroused  our 
curiosity,  and  we  demanded  the  story  it  seemed 
to  suggest.  After  a  time  Mr.  Marsh  yielded  to 
our  solicitations,  and  this  is  the  narrative  he 
related,  told  in  his  own  words. 

I  was  born  back  East  in  a  pretty  little  town 
in  Vermont,  the  dear  old  Green  Mountain 
State.  Some  day  when  I  have 
"  made  my  pile  "  I  intend  to 
go  back  there  and  end  my 
days  in  the  midst  of  the  glories 
of  the  mountains. 

Helen  Alden  and  I  had 
known  each  other  from  child- 
hood, and  when  we  had  grown 
to  manhood  and  womanhood 
we  desired  to  spend  our  lives 
together  as  man  and  wife,  but 
for  some  inscrutable  reason, 
which  I  never  satisfactorily 
solved,  her  father  flatly  refused 
to  give  his  consent  to  our 
marriage.  The  nearest  I  came 
to  elucidating  the  mystery  was 
when  an  acquaintance  who  had 
known  Mr.  Alden  all  his  life 
told  me  that  he  (Mr.  Alden) 
had  loved  my  mother  and 
wanted  to  marry  her,  but  her 
affections  were  engaged  elsewhere  and  she  re- 
fused him.  My  mother  and  father  were  married 
soon  after  this,  and,  though  Mr.  Alden  himself 
married,  he  never  forgot  or  forgave  the  sup- 
posed slight,  and  in  refusing  me  his  daughter's 
hand  was,  perhaps,  taking  his  revenge  for 
the  fancied  wrongs  of  bygone  days.  He  was 
a  man  of  peculiar  disposition  and  character, 
who  had  few  friends  outside  his  family.  Whether 
the  reason  given  by  my  informant  was  the  real 


MR.  JOHN    MARSH,  W 

THE   STORY   OF    HI 

From  a  Photo,  by  J. 


cause  of  Mr.  Alden's  opposition  I  have  never 
known,  but  this  I  do  know,  that  he  made  the 
course  of  our  true  love  anything  but  a  smooth 
one  from  beginning  to  end. 

One  day,  in  deference  to  Helen's  wishes,  I 
went  to  Mr.  Alden  to  make  a  final  appeal  to 
him  for  the  hand  of  his  daughter,  hoping  to 
soften  the  heart  and  bend  the  will  of  the 
obdurate  old  man. 

"No,  sir,"  he  said,  sharply,  in  answer  to  my 
request.  "I  will  never  give  my  consent  to  your 
marriage  with  my  daughter,  and  you  may  just  as 
well  understand  that  at  once." 

"  Very  well,  Mr.  Alden,"  I  replied ;  "  I  am 
sorry  you  refuse  what  I  ask,  but  understand 
this  :  if  I  can't  have  Helen  with  your  consent, 
I  shall  take  her  without  it !  " 

"  Neither  with  nor  without  my  consent  shall 
vou  have  Helen,"  thundered 
the  old  man,  nearly  beside 
himself  with  rage.  "  Go  about 
your  business." 

"  I  will  go  about  my  busi- 
ness," I  said,  as  I  started  to 
leave  him,  "and  that  will  be 
to  marry  Helen  at  the  very 
earliest  opportunity." 

For  several  days  after  this  I 
had  no  chance  to  see  my 
sweetheart  nor  to  communicate 
with  her,  as  her  father  kept 
too  close  a  watch  over  her. 
Going  to  our  private  letter-box, 
however — a  hollow  tree — one 
day  about  a  week  later,  I  found 
a  letter  which  had  just  been 
deposited  there  by  Helen.  In 
it  she  told  me  that  her  father 
intended  to  go  the  next  day 
to  a  place  about  twenty  miles 
from  home.  He  was  going  to  start  early  and 
would  not  be  home  until  late  in  the  evening. 

"  A  word  to  the  wise  is  sufficient."  Here,  I 
felt,  would  be  our  opportunity.  I  have  forgotten 
to  explain  that  my  farm,  which  had  been  left  to 
me  by  my  father,  joined  that  of  Mr.  Alden,  so  I 
had  a  vantage-point  from  which  to  watch  for 
Mr.  Alden's  departure  next  morning,  which  took 
place  at  an  early  hour.  Soon  after  he  had  gone 
I  harnessed  Grey  Eagle,  my  handsome  horse,  to 


HO  TOI.D  TO  THE  AUTHOI 
S    RUNAWAY    MAKHIAGE. 

C  Burge,  New  Mexico, 


AN    EVENTFUL    ELOPEMENT. 


my  sleigh,  and  drove  the  short  distance  to  Mr. 
Alden's  house.  Going  to  the  door  I  was  warmly 
received  by  Helen.  "  Hurry  and  put  your  coat 
and  hat  on,"  said  I,  "and  we  will  drive  over  to 
Arlington  and  be  married  and  bock  again  before 
your  father  gets  home  from  his  journey?3  She 
was  taken  aback  at  my  words,  naturally,  but  it 
did  not  take  me  long  to  overcome  the  objections 
that  my  sweetheart 
raised  to  so  sudden 
a  move,  for  she,  as 
well  as  I,  realized 
the  utter  futility  of 
trying  to  overcome 
her  father's  preju- 
dices and  obtain 
his  con&ent  to  our 
union.  We  were 
both  heartily  tired 
of  the  unreason- 
able position  which 
he  had  taken  up. 

Presently,  there 
fore,  Helen  left 
me,  saying  as  she 
went,  "I  will  be 
ready  in  a  few 
minutes." 

Ten  minutes 
later  she  came 
down  fully  equip- 
ped for  the  drive, 
and  I  soon  had 
her  cosily  tucked 
into  the  sleigh  by 
my  side. 

It  was  a  glorious 
winter  dav,  just 
right  for  the  ten 
or  twelve  mile  spin 
up  hill  and  down 
dale  over  the  snow 
— a  day  when  the 
air  was  like  rich 
wine  in  its  power 
to  invigorate  and  stimulate.  Had  I  realized 
what  awaited  us  on  my  return,  however,  I 
should  have  hesitated  about  taking  the  journey 
that  day.      But  I  must  not  anticipate. 

We  had  gone  about  a  mile  along  the  "  new 
road"— so  called  to  distinguish  it  from  the 
older  and  steeper  road  over  the  mountain— and 
had  just  passed  a  farmhouse,  when  we  heard  a 
shout  behind  us.  Looking  round,  you  can 
imagine  our  surprise  at  seeing  Mr.  Alden  just 
driving  out  of  the  farmyard  in  pursuit  of  us,  and 
urging  his  horse  to  its  utmost  speed.  When  I 
saw  this  I  gave  the  word  to  Grey  Eagle,  and  he 
was  off  like  a  flash  along  the  smooth  road  and 

Vol.  xiv.— 2. 


HURRY    AND    PUT    YOUR    COAT    AMD    HAT    ON.      SAID    I 


soon  left  our  pursuer  far  in  the  rear.  It  puzzled 
us  to  know  why  he  had  changed  his  mind  and 
gone  in  a  direction  contrary  to  that  in  which  he 
said  he  was  going,  unless  he  had  "  smelt  a  rat  " 
and  laid  a  trap  for  us.  For  the  life  of  me  I 
could  not  fathom  the  old  farmer's  idea  in  pur- 
suing us,  for  Helen  was  of  age  and  both  of  us 
were  fully  determined   not   to  return   until    the 

knot  was  tied 
w  h  i  c h  should 
unite  us  for  life. 
Probably,  if  he 
could  have  over- 
taken us,  he  would 
have  brought  his 
iron  will  to  bear 
on  Helen,  and 
attempted  to 
c  o  m  pel  her  to 
return  with  him. 

On  and  on  we 
raced,  the  sleigh 
gliding  swiftly  over 
the  snow.  Once 
the  irate  Mr. 
Alden,  who,  of 
course,  had  the 
lighter  load, 
m  o  m  e  n  t  a  r  i  1  y 
gained  on  us,  and 
Helen  cried  out  in 
alarm,  "Oh,  Jack  ! 
father  is  gaining 
on  us!  Make 
Grey  Eagle  go 
faster  I  " 

My  good  horse 
needed  no  urging, 
for,  as  he  heard 
the  other  hoist- 
coming  in  the  < lis 
tance,  he  went 
off  again  like  the 
wind.  Mite  after 
mile  the  (base 
continued,  sometimes  one  gaining  and  some- 
times the  other,  but  our  pursuer  never  at 
any  time  got  within  speaking  distance  ;  which 
was  perhaps  fortunate,  for  we  could  see  that 
he  was  in  a  furious  passion.  Occasionally 
I  glanced  backward,  and  could  see  that  the 
farmer  was  getting  more  and  more  angry,  which 
was  evinced  by  his  continuous  use  of  the  whip 
on  hi-;  galloping  horse.  I  can  see  him  now  as  I 
think  of  the  incident,  with  his  fur  cap  drawn 
down  as  far  as  it  would  go  on  his  head,  and  a 
red  comforter  or  scarf  tied  around  his  neck,  the 
long  ends  flying  in  the  air  like  signals  of 
vengeance,  and  his  right  arm  rising  and  falling 


IO 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINK. 


MILE   AFTER    MILE   THE   CHASE   CONTINUED. 

with  almost  mathematical  precision  as  he  wielded 
the  whip. 

When  less  than  two  miles  from  Arlington  the 
chase  came  to  an  end.  Mr.  Alden's  horse 
suddenly  stumbled  and  fell  in  a  heap,  and  the 
last  we  saw  of  the  farmer  was  when  he  left  the 
sleigh  and  attempted  to  raise  the  prostrate 
animal. 

Needless  to  say,  I  did  not  go  to  the  assistance 
of  my  prospective  father-in-law,  but  kept  straight 
on  to  our  destination.  We  saw  no  more  of  our 
pursuer,  and  half  an  hour  later  we  had  reached 
Arlington  and  were  at  the  house  of  a  clergyman 
whom  I  knew,  and  were  fortunate  enough  to 
find  him  at  home.  A  few  minutes  after  the 
marriage  ceremony  was  performed  in  the  pre- 
sence of  the  parson's  wife  and  two  daughters, 
and  Helen  and  I  were  man  and  wife. 

We  drove  to  the  hotel  and  had  dinner,  and 
then  I  went  out  to  attend  to  some  business 
which  would  have  brought  me  to  town  that  day 
in  any  event.  As  soon  as  this  was  transacted 
I  hastened  to  the  hotel  where  I  had  left  my 
bride,  and  we  prepared  for  our  journey  back  to 
Sandgate. 

This  time  1  decided  to  take  the   old   road, 


having  no  desire 
to  meet  -Mr. 
Alden  just  at 
that  time,  for  I 
thought  he 
might  be  await- 
ing our  return 
somewhere 
a'long  the  road, 
and  would  try 
to  make  things 
unpleasant  for 
us,  though  he 
could  not  now 
separate  us. 

"  I  am  going 
back  by  the  old 
road  over  the 
mountain,"  I 
said  to  Ben 
Norton,  the  pro- 
prietor of  the 
hotel,  when  I 
was  ready  to 
start. 

"If  I  were 
you  I  shouldn't,"  said  Ben,  in  his  most  im- 
pressive tone.  "  Just  before  you  drove  up 
this  morning  two  men  stopped  here  for  a  few 
moments  on  their  way  to  Cambridge,  and  they 
told  me  that  a  wild  cat  had  been  seen  up 
near  Beartown  within  the  last  day  or  two.  This 
they  said  had  been  told  them  by  reliable 
persons  who  had  themselves  seen  the  cat  and 
had  been  chased  by  it  for  a  short  distance.  By 
the  way,  you  know  the  men — they  were  Judge 
Hill  and  Mr.  Sinfield,  of  Salem." 

"  A  wild  cat  about  this  region  !  I  don't 
believe  it,"  said  I.  "There  have  been  no  wild 
cats  in  this  part  of  the  country  for  the  last  fifty 
years.  My  grandfather. used  to  say  he  killed  the 
last  one  that  put  in  an  appearance.  They  must 
have  seen  a  wandering  Thomas  cat  of  the 
striped  variety,  and  mistook  him  for  his  savage 
brother." 

"  All  the  same,  Jack,  I  would  not  go  by  that 
road,  especially  as  you  will  not  be  alone,"  he 
replied. 

"  111  risk  it  ! "  I  answered 
"and  I  am  sure  Mrs.  Marsh 
be  frightened  at  such  a  story. 
cat  I  will  bring  you  his  skin." 

"  I  shall  hold  you  to  your  bargain,"  said  Ben, 
as  he  carefully  tucked  the  fur  robes  in  on  Helen's 
side  of  the  sleigh. 

"Well,  good-bye,  old  man,"  I  said  ;  "  we  have 
a  good  long  drive  before  us  and  must  be  off, 
as  it  is  getting  late  ;  but  it  will  be  clear,  bright 
moonlight  after  the  sun  goes  down,  so  it  will  be 


with    a    laugh  ; 

is  not   likely  to 

If  I  see  a  wild 


AN     EVENTFUL    ELOPEMENT. 


1 1 


almost  as  pleasant  as  in  the   daylight,  though  a 
little  colder." 

It  was  nearly  four  o'clock  when  we  started, 
and  the  first  two  miles  was  over  a  level  road. 
Then  began  our  climb  of  one  of  the  steepest 
mountain  roads  in  Vermont,  and  there  are  some 
pretty  steep  grades  in  the  dear  old  State.  Before 
we  reached  the  summit  the  sun  had  gone  down, 
and  the  moon  was  shining  in  all  her  splendour 
on  the  white,  glistening  glory  of  the  snow. 

All  was  clear  and  bright  as  far  as  we  could 
see,  though  the  road  was  very  lonely.  Years 
ago,  when  the  pioneers  had  come  and  "  settled 
up  "  the  Green  Mountain  State,  and  chose  for 
the  site  of  their  homes  eminences  from  which  a 
wide  landscape  might  be  seen,  this  old  road 
from  Arlington  to  Sandgate  was  well  settled,  but 
the  younger  generation  in  the  thirties  took  the 
Western  fever  and  went  away  to  seek  their 
fortunes.  The  old  folks  died  off,  leaving  the 
homes  desolate,  and  finally  the  buildings 
decayed  and  dropped  down.  Around  the 
ruins  a  dense  young  forest  grew  up,  lining 
either  side  of  the 
road  and  fast  be- 
coming almost  im- 
penetrable. It  was 
as  lonely  now  at  the 
point  we  had  reached 
as  if  the  foot  of  man 
had  never  trodden 
the  region.  The 
only  habitation  —  if 
such  it  could  be 
called  —  was  a  hut, 
partly  excavated  in 
the  hillside,  in  which 
a  hermit  named 
James  Moore,  who 
had  met  with  a  love- 
trouble,  lived  alone 
with  no  other  com- 
panion than  a  dog. 

We  drove  through 
Beartown  at  a  lei- 
surely gait,  in  order 
to  rest  the  horse 
after  the  long  climb, 
and  to  let  him  "get 
his  wind  "  before  the 
next  hill.  Meantime 
Helen  and  I  were 
talking  gaily  over  our 
plans  for  the  future. 

Suddenly,  without 
the  least  warning, 
Grey  Eagle  gave  a 
wild  bound  and  was 
off  like    a    streak   of 


lightning,  with  a  dark  object  clinging  to  his 
flank  that  I  saw  was  an  animal  of  some  sort. 
Putting  the  reins  into  Helen's  hands  and 
reaching  down  into  the  bottom  of  the  sleigh,  I 
seized  an  axe-handle  which  I  had  bought  in 
Arlington  that  day.  With  this  I  struck  the 
intruder  a  furious  blow,  which  had  the  effect  of 
loosening  his  hold,  and  he  dropped  to  the 
ground.  Only  for  a  moment  was  he  down, 
however ;  the  next  instant  he  had  bounded  up 
again,  this  time  landing  in  the  sleigh  in  front  of 
us,  and  for  a  moment  I  felt  his  hot  breath  upon 
my  face.  As  he  sprang  in  one  cruel  claw  in- 
flicted an  ugly  scratch  upon  one  of  Helen's 
hands.  I  realized  now  that  what  I  had 
scoffed  at  and  pronounced  impossible  was  a 
living  reality — the  veritable  wild  cat  which  I  had 
been  told  about  was  now  confronting  me  ! 

A  few  well-directed  blows  from  the  axe-helve 
again  dislodged  him,  and  he  fell  to  the  ground 
behind  us,  but  once  more  bounded  up,  and  this 
time  caught  hold  of  the  top  of  the  seat  at  the 
back     with     his    fore-paws,     making    strenuous 


THE    NEXT    INSTANT    HE    HAD    BOUNDED    UP   AGAIN". 


12 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


efforts  to  bring  his  hind  feet  up  also,  no  easy 
task  on  the  smooth  paint,  with  the  flying  sleigh 
bumping  madly  down  the  rough  road.  Turning 
round,  with  one  terrific  blow  on  his  paws  I 
drove  him  from  his  position,  and  the  next 
instant  I  heard  the  report  of  a  rifle  and  saw  the 
savage  creature  roll  over  on  the  snow. 


long  tension  had  been  too  much  for  the  poor 
girl,  and  she  had  fainted.  By  dint  of  desperate 
efforts  I  succeeded  in  keeping  the  maddened 
horse  in  the  road,  but  he  nearly  pulled  my  arms 
out  of  joint  as  he  furiously  plunged  down  one  long 
hill  and  half-way  up  another.  Then  gradually 
his  speed  moderated,  and  when  the  top  of  the 


SAW    THE   SAVAGE   CREATURE    UOI.I. 
I  l\  l-'.R   ON    THE    SNOW." 


I  suspected  that  it  was  the 
hermit,  James  Moore,  who  had 
fired  the  shot  so  opportunely,  as  we  were  very 
near  his  habitation  at  the  time.  I  did  not  stop 
to  investigate  the  matter,  however,  for  had  I 
felt  inclined  to  do  so  Grey  Eagle's  will  would 
have  been  more  than  I  could  have  overcome. 
Though  the  beast's  claws  had  injured  Helen 
she  had  not  dropped  the  reins,  but  held  on 
pluckily  and  kept  the  frightened  horse  to  the 
road,  thereby,  no  doubt,  saving  our  lives. 

When  the  shot  was  fired  that  stopped  the  wild 
cat's  career  the  horse  became,  if  possible,  more 
frenzied  than  before  and  made  gigantic  bounds 
over  the  road.  I  took  the  reins  from  Helen's 
hands,  and,  as  I  did  so,  her  head  dropped  upon 
my  shoulder  and  for  a  moment  I  thought  that 
she  was  dead,  so  white  and  still  was  she.     The 


CdaACt    £°P4K 


hill  was  reached  he  was  ready  to  stop  and  rest, 
and  I  was  able  to  look  after  Helen,  who  had  not 
recovered  consciousness.  A  handful  of  snow 
upon  her  face  brought  her  back  to  life,  and  in  a 
faint  voice  she  said,  "Are  we  safe,  Jack?" 

"  Yes,  dear,"  I  answered,  "  and  we  will  soon 
be  at  home." 

I  had  not  believed  it  possible  that,  strong  as 
I  was  in  those  days,  I  could  have  become  so 
weak  and  trembling  in  so  short  a  time  as  I  was 
after  the  strain  of  that  fight  and  the  subsequent 
runaway  was  over. 

How  we  escaped  destruction  during  that  wild 
race  is  a  marvel  to  me  to  this  day.  For  long 
distances  the  sleigh  scarcely  touched  the 
ground  ;  the  road  was  narrow  and  rough,  with 


AN    EVENTFUL    ELOPEMENT. 


13 


stones  of  various  sizes  on  either  hand,  and 
occasionally  a  stretch  of  track  where,  if  the  horse 
had  svyerved  a  foot  out  of  the  direct  line,  we 
might  have  been  landed  in  a  heap  fifty  or  a 
hundred  feet  below.  Had  we  struck  one  of  the 
numerous  rocks  and  been  thrown 
to  the  ground  when  near  the 
wild  cat,  too,  we  should  have 
been  in  danger  of  being  torn  to 
pieces  by  the  infuriated  creature. 

I  let  the  trembling  Grey  Eagle 
rest  awhile  before  going  on. 
Finally  we  started  again,  very 
quiet  and  subdued,  both  horse 
and  riders,  and  some  time  later 
drove  up  to  the  gate  of  Helen's 
girlhood's  home,  where  we  saw 
her  father  standing.  He  was 
evidently  watching  for  us,  and 
as  we  came  up  he  greeted  us 
with  language  more  forcible  than 
elegant. 

"  Mr.  Alden,"  I  said,  sternly, 
"  I  will  not  let  you  address  such 
words  to  my  wife  !  " 

"  Your  wife,  you  rascal  ?  "  he 
roared,  furiously. 

"  Yes,  sir,  my  wife.     Won't  you  give  us  your 
blessing?"  I  said,  as  I  prepared  to  move  on. 

A  volley  of  curses  was  his  reply,  and  so  we 
drove    on    the    few    rods 
farther   to  my  house,  which 
was  to  be  our  home  for  the 
future. 

The  morning  after  out- 
marriage I  drove  over  to  the 
hermit's,  but  Moore  heard 
the  sleigh  bells  and  came  to 
the  door,  and  I  said, 
"Halloa,  Mr.  Moore,  did 
you  shoot  at  something  last 
nioht?  ' 


MR.  ALDEN,  WHO  REFUSED  HIS  CONSENT 

TO   THE    MARRIAGE   OF    HIS  DAUGHTER 

WITH    MR.    JOHN    MARSH. 

From  a  Photo. 


'  Yes,"  said  he,   "it  was  a 


big  wild  cat ;    but  how   did   you   know  about 
it?" 

"  Because  I  was  the  man  in  the  sleigh,"   I 
replied. 

"  Well,"  he  answered,  "  you  were  going  too 
fast  for  me  to  recognise  you.  I 
saw  the  brute  spring  on  the  back 
of  the  sleigh  and  then  fall 
off.  I  raised  my  rifle,  which  I 
fortunately  had  in  my  hand,  and 
fired  at  him  and  killed  him,  but 
you  had  pretty  nearly  beaten  the 
life  out  of  him  yourself." 

Moore  thought  that  the  animal 

must  have  been  driven  by  hunters 

from  the  higher  mountain  range, 

for   there   was    an    old    gunshot 

wound  upon   his   shoulder.      He 

was      evidently     maddened     by 

hunger,   or  he   would   not   have 

made    so    persistent    an    attack 

upon    us.       Moore   said    I    had 

earned  the  skin,  so  I  drove  over 

to  Arlington  and  gave  it  to  Ben 

Norton,    as    I    had   promised    I 

would  if  I  saw  the  wild  cat. 

It  took  but  a  few  weeks   for 

my  cantankerous  father-in-law  to  weary  for  his 

daughter  Helen,  and  then  he  threw  out  a  flag  of 

truce  in  the  shape  of  a  note  to  her  to  come  and 

see  him. 

"  Not  without  my  husband," 
was  the  reply  he  received. 

"  Of  course  he  may  come. 
I  suppose  I  must  swallow 
him  if  I  want  you,"  wrote 
back  the  farmer. 

For  Helen's  sake  I  was 
glad  to  be  friendly  with  the 
old  gentleman,  and  from  that 
time  until  his  death,  ten 
years  later,  I  had  not  a  more 
loyal  friend  than  he. 


MR.    AI.DEN  S    DAUGHTER    HELEN,    WHO    ELOPED 
WITH    MR.    MARSH. 

From  a  Photo,  by  II  'allace  Barnes  6r>  Co, 


<^>f 


OF    THE 

CH£&PSIDL^ 

Ctoctc 


-6V 


YorkHopewell 


tfffonsqji? 


<  \w 


This  remarkable  story  was  told  to  the  author  by  Mr. 
George     Russell,     managing     director    of     Sir     John 
Bennett,    Limited,    the    well-known    clock-makers,    of 
Cheapside,  London,  and  forms  a  striking  romance  of   modern    commercial  life. 


HOSE  readers  of  The  Wide  World 
Magazine  who  remember  Cheap- 
side  as  it  was  twenty  years  ago  will 
recollect  what  an  attraction  Bennett's 
clock  was  to  all  passers-by,  with  its 

six    splendid    figures,  its    rich-toned    bells,    and 

its  beauty  of  design  and  construction.     On  my 

return    to   the  City  after  an    absence    of  some 

years    I    missed    this  clock 

and    saw    the    now  equally 

well-known  one  — a  never- 
failing  attraction  to  country 

cousins — that  stands  in   its 

place.      It  was    in  reply  to 

my  inquiry  as  to  what  had 

become  of  the  former  clock 

that     I     heard    from     Mr. 

George    Russell's   own    lips 

the  following  extraordinary 

story. 


I  was  standing  in  the 
shop  one  day  many  years 
ago  when  there  entered  a 
middle-aged  man,  who  went 
up  to  one  of  the  assistants 
to  be  served.  From  my 
position  at  some  distance 
from  them  I  saw  that  the 
assistant  seemed  somewhat 
mystified  by  the  gentle- 
man's question.  So,  ac- 
cording to  my  usual 
custom,  I  advanced  to- 
wards    the    counter    where 


MR.     GEORGE. RUSSELL,    THE    MANAGING    DIRECTOR    OF 

SIR   JOHN    BENNETT   AND  CO.,   LIMITED,  WHO    RELATED 

THE   STRANGE    STORY    OF     THE    CHF.AI'SIDE   CLOCK   TO 

THE   AUTHOR. 

From  a  Photo,  by  Mace  &r  Mast',  Cromer. 


they  stood,  and  was  asked  by  the  assistant  to 
come  forward,  being  introduced  forthwith  as 
the  manager. 

The  gentleman  looked  at  me  for  a  second  or 
two  without  speaking.  Then  he  said,  in  the 
quietest  tones  possible,  "  May  I  ask  the  price  of 
your  clock?  " 

As  we  had,  of  course,  scores  of  clocks  of  all 
sorts  and  sizes  about  the 
shop,  I  naturally  inquired 
politely,  "  Which  clock, 
sir?" 

"The  clock  outside,"  he 
remarked,  laconically,  with 
a  wave  of  his  hand  towards 
the  window. 

I  began  to  fancy  he  meant 
either  some  clock  in  the 
window  or  perhaps  one  in 
the  entrance  way  that  some 
assistant  might  have  hung 
there.  So  I  simply  re- 
plied :  — 

"  There  are  several  clocks 
in  the  window,  sir,  as  you 
see.  May  I  ask  which  of 
them  you  refer  to  ?  " 

The  gentleman  appeared 
rather  nettled.  He  spoke 
again,  sharply  and  crossly. 

"  I  don't  mean  any  clock 
in  the  window,"  he  said. 
"  I  mean  the  big  clock 
outside,    the   one  over   the 


shop." 


THE    STRANGE    STORY    OF    THE    CHEAPSIDE    CLOCK. 


15 


" I  have 


You  may  imagine  how  thunderstruck  I  was 
at  this  strange  remark,  at  the  bare  idea  of  that 
clock  being  sold — that  clock  which  was  one  of 
the  favourite  sights  of  Cheapside,  and  which  we 
prized  so  much  !  I  began  to  wonder  if  the 
would-be  purchaser  might  not  be  eccentric,  or 
even  worse.  He  saw  my  indecision,  and  waited 
impatiently  for  my  next  words.      I  temporized. 

"  Do    you    mean    to   say,"   I    inquired  again, 
"  that  you  wish  to  buy  the  big  clock  with   the 
figures,    above    the    window    out- 
side ?  " 

"  That's  it  !  "  he  said. 
been  having  a  large  tower 
built  at  my  new  residence 

in    D ,    and    I    want 

that  clock  to  put  on  the 
tower." 

This  statement 
made  me  stand  more 
aghast  than  ever. 
Bennett's  had  never 
for  a  moment  thought 
of  parting  with  the 
celebrated  clock,  and 
as  to  its  value,  that 
was  hardly  known  to 
ourselves.  More- 
over, Sir  John  Ben- 
nett being  then  away, 
I  did  not  feel  that  I 
ought  to  take  upon 
myself  such  an  enor- 
mous responsibility 
as  that  of  disposing 
of  the  famous  clock. 
Yet,  I  reflected,  it 
had  been  the  boast 
of  the  firm  for  many 
years  that  we  were 
equal  to  making  and 
selling  anything  in 
the  clock  line,  and 
that  we  never  dis- 
appointed a  cus- 
tomer, whatever  it 
might  cost  us.  More- 
over, I  was  by  this  time  more  than  half  per- 
suaded that  the  man  was  a  mild  sort  of  lunatic 
whose  mind  ran  on  clocks.  So,  thinking  to 
settle  him  by  naming  an  outside  price,  I  said 
quietly.  "  Well,  sir,  that  clock  is  both  a  wonder- 
ful and  complicated  piece  of  work.  We  could 
not  sell  it  at  a  penny  under  seven  hundred  and 
fifty  pounds  ! " 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  stranger,  "  I'll  have  it. 
Regard  it  as  mine." 

I   now   felt   sure  that    I   was   dealing  with   a 
person  who  was  not  responsible  for  his  actions, 


mf 


HE   COUNT*  D    OUT    NOTES    TO    THE    VALUE   OF    TWO 
HUNDRED    AND    FIFTY    POUNDS." 


and,  being  at  a  loss  what  to  do  next,  it  seemed 
to  me  there  was  still  just  a  chance  of  getting  out 
of  the  difficulty. 

"It  is  usual,  sir,"  said  I,  "in  transactions  of 
this  kind  to  have  a  substantial  deposit  where 
our  customer  is  unknown  to  us." 
"  All  right,"  was  the  terse  reply. 
And  the  stranger  pulled  out  from  nis  pocket 
a  roll  of  bank-notes.  Goodness  knows  how 
much    their   total   sum   amounted    to,    but   he 

counted  out  notes  to 
the  value  of  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty  pounds 
and  laid  them  down. 
"That  will  do  to 
go  on  with,"  said  he. 
"  I'll  give  you  the  rest 
when  the  clock  is 
fixed  on  my  tower. 
You  can  fix  it  there, 
I  suppose  ? " 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  now 
hardly  knowing 
whether  I  was  stand- 
ing on  my  head  or 
my  heels. 

The  gentleman  put 
down  his  card  on  the 
counter,  arranged  for 
the  fixing  of  the  clock 
— figures,  bells,  and 
all — and  then  left  the 
shop. 

For  some  time  after 
Sir  John     Bennett    came 
in    I    scarcely  dared    tell 
him  what  had   happened, 
expecting    a    characteristic     ex- 
plosion.      Whether    it    was  that 
the    strangeness    of    the    whole 
affair   amused    him,   or  what,    I 
cannot    say,   but   when  I   finally 
broke  the  news  to  him  Sir  John 
received    it    much    more  calmly 
than  I  had  expected. 

"All  right,  Russell,"  said  he, 
'we'll  let  him  have  it.     It  shall 
never  be  said    that   Bennett's    could    not    fulfil 
a  customer's  commission  !  " 

So  the  old  clock  was  moved  and  fixed  in  its 

new  place  at   "  The  Towers,   D ,"  and  the 

present  clock  reigned  in  its  stead. 

That,  however,  is  only  the  first  chapter,  so  to 
speak,  of  my  curious  tale. 

The  second  one  began  shortly  afterwards, 
when  Sir  John  Bennett's  curiosity  had  been  so 
much  roused  about  our  strange  customer  that 
he  resolved  to  learn  whatever  details  he  could 
about  his  life  and  doings. 


i6 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


He  therefore  hau  special  inquiries  made  by 
trustworthy  people,  and  a  most  extraordinary 
story  thus  came  to  light. 

It  seems  that  the  gentleman  -who  had  so 
curiously  purchased  one  of  the  City's  most 
famous  clocks   was   the  son    of  a   physician   in 

D .      This     physician      had     retired     from 

practice  after  making  a  large  fortune  by  his 
profession  and  by  shrewd  speculations.  His 
wife,  who  had  had  some  money  in  her  own 
right,  was  dead,  and  only  one  son  remained  as 
sole  heir  of  her  fortune  and  of  the  father's. 

But  this  son  was  a  strong-willed  lad,  whose 
ideas  often  clashed  with  those  of  his  father,  and 
when  one  day  the  boy  fell 
in  love  the  doctor  did 
not  at  all  approve  his 
choice.  A  terrible  quar- 
rel was  the  result,  and 
neither  side  would  give 
way.  At  length  the  affair 
became  so  serious  that 
the  father,  stubborn  and 
angry,  exclaimed  in  his 
passion  : — 

"  If  you  don't  give  this 
up,  sir,  you  shall  leave 
my  house  and  never 
return  !  Nor  shall  you 
have  a  penny  of  my 
money  when  I  die." 

The  son's  face  flushed. 

"  Do  you  really  mean 
that?"  he  asked,  quickly. 

"  I  do  mean  it,"  was 
the  hot  retort. 

"  Very  well,  then,"  said 
the  son,  "  I'll  go,  without 
troubling  you  more.  I 
have  often  thought  I 
could  make  a  fortune  if 
I  tried  ;  now  I'll  try." 

He  left  the  house  that  same  night,  and  went 

next    day    to    the    bank    at    P ,    where    his 

mother's  bequest — four  thousand  pounds — lay 
awaiting  his  disposal.  He  drew  out  the  whole 
sum  and  set  sail  for  India,  without  saying 
another  word  to  his  father. 

For  many  years  the  two  had  no  communication 
whatever.  The  young  merchant  began  business 
in  the  Bombay  province,  and  prospered  beyond 
his  wildest  dreams.  Money  seemed  fairly  to 
roll  into  his  coffers ;  whatever  he  touched 
appeared  to  turn  to  gold. 

Meanwhile  the  old  physician  at  home  was  in 

poor   health,   and,   though   he  would  not  for  a 

•  minute  confess  it,    he   often  worried  as  to  what 

had  become  of  his  only  son  and  wished  he  were 


THE   LATE   SIR   JOHN    BENNETT. 
From  a  Photo,  by  Brown,  Barnes,  &  Bell. 


eleven    o'clock. 


back 


again. 


But    his    stubborn     pride    and 


temper  would  not  allow  him  to  ask  the  wanderer 
to  return.  At  length,  after  a  severe  attack  of 
illness,  his  doctor  warned  him  that  he  could  not 
live  many  years  longer,  and  advised  him  to  give 
way  and  to  ask  the  young  man  to  come  home. 

Hut  Dr.  S—  -  declined  to  do  so,  though  he 
at  last  gave  his  colleague  permission  to  write  to 
Mr.  Claude,  the  son,  and  mention  that  he  (the 
father)  was  seriously  ill.  The  doctor  did  so, 
and  the  son  sent  back  quite  a  friendly  letter, 
hoping  that  his  father  was  better  and  regretting 
that  he  could  not  leave  India  for  three  years 
yet.  He  mentioned,  too,  how  successful  he  had 
been,  and  said  that  he  had  already  amassed  a 

great  fortune. 

The  father  got  worse, 
however,  and  a  few 
months  later  it  was  clear 
that  his  days  were  num- 
bered. The  medical  at- 
tendant again  advised 
him  to  write  personally, 
asking  Mr.  Claude  to 
return  immediately  if  he 
wished  to  see  his  parent 
alive,  and  after  much 
pressure  the  old  man 
consented  to  this  course. 
He  wrote,  and  a  cable 
was  soon  received  in 
reply,  stating  that  the 
wanderer  was  setting  out 
for  England  almost  im 
mediately. 

The  young  man  —  foi 
he  was  still  barely  thirty 
five — landed  at  Ply 
mouth   and   hastened   U 

take  the  train  to  D 

He  arrived  at  the  coun 
try  town  near  his  ol 
home  late  at  night — abou 
Deeming  it  unwise  to  wal 
the  distance  of  three  miles  or  so  at  that  lat 
hour  and  to  rouse  up  the  nurses  and  the  sic 
man  from  what  might  be  beneficial  sleep,  M 

Claude  S resolved  to  stay  at  an  hotel  ti 

morning,  then  to  rise  early  and  proceed  horn 
to  breakfast. 

This  course  he  carried  out.  Before  seve 
o'clock  next  morning  he  was  again  enterii 
the  familiar  gates  he  had  left  under  sue 
different  circumstances  so  many  years  befor 
As  he  came  in  sight  of  the  house  a  great  ch 
passed  over  his  heart.  The  servants  we 
drawing  down  all  the  blinds.  His  father  hi 
died  just  before  the  wanderer  had  reachi 
home  again  from  the  other  side  of  t 
world. 


Il 

t( 

p 


and 

fa 

pla 


S 


THE    STRANGE    STORY    OF    THE    CHEAPSIDE    CLOCK. 


17 


THE    OLD    CHEAPSIDE     CLOCK — SHOWN    JUST    ABOVE    THE     SECOND 
"  N  "    IN    "  BENNETT." 


It  was  a  terrible  blow  to  the  son,  and  his 
regret  was  poignant.  It  was  some  consolation 
to  him,  however,  to  know  that  he  had  been 
forgiven  ;  and  when  the  old  man's  will  was  read 
it  was  found  that  after  all  he  had  left  his  whole 
fortune,  well  on  towards  a  hundred  thousand 
pounds,  to  his  only  son.  So  here  was  this 
young  man  with  three  fortunes  at  his  disposal, 
together  worth  close  on  a  quarter  of  a  million 
pounds,  unmarried,  and  with  only  himself  to 
please.  He  determined  not  to  return  to  India  ; 
and  accordingly  sold  out  his  business  there, 
thus  largely  increasing  his  wealth.  Then  he  set 
about  building  himself  a  magnificent  palace  in 
place  of  the  old  home.  This  palace  had  a 
splendid  tower,  and  it  was  for  the  adornment  of 
this  tower  that,  passing  one  day  along  Cheap- 
side  and  casually  noticing  the  famous  clock  at 
Sir  John  Bennett's,  he  resolved  to  buy  the  time- 
piece and  did  so,  as  already  recorded. 

So  closed  the  second  chapter  of  my  history, 
which  shows  that  fiction,  after  all,  is  but  a  poor 
rival  to  truth.  The  third  chapter  —  perhaps 
the  strangest  of  all — I  will  now  set  forth. 

Some  \ears  later  I  was  standing  one  dav  in 
the  shop,  talking  to  Sir  John  Bennett,  when  I 
noticed  a  tramp  come  towards  the  counter  and 
ask  one  of  our  assistants  for  alms.  This  is  not 
uncommon,  of  course,  so  I  took  small  notice  of 

Vol.  xiv.  -3. 


it.  Sir  John  had  his  back  towards  the  beggar, 
and  I  remember  observing  that  the  latter's 
clothes  were  tattered  and  threadbare,  and 
that  he  seemed  very  poor.  He  hesitated  when 
the  assistant  signified  that  he  could  not  help 
him,  and  it  was  the  peculiar  side-glance  that  he 
gave,  apparently  directed  towards  me,  that  first 
made  me  notice  him  more  closely. 

All  at  once  his  features  seemed  to  be  familiar, 
though  I  could  not  recall  for  a  moment  where 
and  when  I  had  seen  them.  When  he  moved 
towards  the  door,  however,  the  familiarity  of  the 
face  and  figure  struck  me  again.  As  I  realized 
who  the  man  was  I  reeled  with  amazement,  and 
motioned  to  an  assistant  to  shut  the  door.  He 
did  so,  and  the  beggar  remained  standing  there 
with  downcast  eyes,  as  if  rooted  to  the  spot. 

Sir  John  gazed  at  me  in  astonishment.  My 
Own  face  was,  I  am  sure,  very  white. 

"Whatever  is  the  matter,  Russell  ?"  said  he, 
in  alarm. 

I  pointed  to-  the  motionless  tramp. 

"Sir  John,"  said  I,  "that  is  the  man  who 
bought  our  clock  !  " 

The  genial  knight  was  so  surprised  that  he 
himself  could  scarcely  believe  his  eyes  and  his 


THE    1'KESENT   CHEAPSIDE   CLOCK. 
From  a  Photo,  by  Sparrow. 


i8 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


ears.  But  the  beggar,  when  we  questioned  him, 
admitted  with  a  sad,  quiet  smile  that  my 
recollection  was  correct,  and  that  he  was  indeed 
the    "  Mr.    Claude    S  '  of    former   days ! 

Gently  and  kindly  prompted  by  Sir  John,  he 
told  us  the  continuation  of  his  extraordinary 
story. 

II  a  h  a  d ,  he 
s  lid.  suffered  from 
sunstroke  in  India, 
and  soon  after  his 
succession  to  his 
father's  wealth  lie 
began  to  feel  its 
effects.  At  firsl 
he  became  eccen- 
tric, but  after- 
wards his  mind 
often  b  e  c  a  m  e 
quite  .unhinged. 
He  speculated 
wildly,  and  lost 
money  by  thou- 
sands of  pounds 
at  a  time.  No- 
thing he  could  do 
turned  out  right. 
He  lost  and 
squandered  until 
at  length  every- 
thing had  to  be 
sold  to  pay  his 
debts.  He  i  n  - 
formed  us  that 
our  old  clock,  of 
such  fame  in  by- 
gone days,  had 
been  bought  at 
the  sale  by  a  well- 
known  baronet, 
and  was  at  that 
very  moment 
figuring  in  the 
stables      at      that 

baronet's  country  seat  minus  the  figures,  which 
had  disappeared.  The  baronet  had  bought  the 
timepiece  for  fifty  pounds.  Fifty  pounds  ! 
And  the  metal  alone  was  worth  well  over  five 
times  that  sum  ! 

The  unfortunate  man  admitted  that  he  had 
not  a  penny  left  out  of  all  those  enormous 
fortunes,  and  that  for  the  last  two  years  he  had 
had  to  beg  his  bread  and  lodging  wherever   he 


THESE    HE   GAVE    TO   OUR    FORMER    CUSTOM R 


could.  It  was  enough  to  make  one  weep  to 
look  at  him  and  to  think  upon  his  extraordinary 
history. 

When  he  had  finished  his  pathetic  narration 
Sir  John  put  his  hand  in  his  pocket  and  pulled 
out  all  the  silver  he  had  there — two  half-crowns. 

These  he  gave  to 
our  former  cus- 
tomer. Then  he 
called  the  assist- 
ants up  to  him 
and,  pointing  to 
the  pitiful  object 
before  them,  he 
said  :  — 

"Whenever 
that  man  comes 
to  this  shop  and 
says  he  wants 
help  you  are  to 
give  him  five  shil- 
lings. He  on  his 
part  will  act 
honourably,  I 
doubt  not,  and 
will  only  come 
when  he  really 
needs  the  money. 
But  whenever  that 
happens,  whether 
it  be  once  a 
month,  once  a 
week,  or  once  a 
day,  you  are  tc 
give  him  five 
shillings  without 
comment  ! " 

And  we  did  so 
He     looked     ii 
casually,     accord 
ing  as   he  needec 
assistance  —  i 
might     be     some 
times    twice    in 
week,  or  only  once  in  a  month.      But  he  alwa) 
got  his  five  shillings.    Thus  he  went  on  for  near] 
two  years,  and  then   the  poor  fellow's  trouble 
came  to  an  end.     He  died  from  pure  wearine 
and  exhaustion,  following  upon  such  experiena 
as  fortunately  fall  to  the  lot  of  but  few  people 
The    old    clock    still    graces    the     baronet 
stables,  although  in  the  meantime  its  success 
has  also  become  famous. 


Among    the    Barotse. 

By  Colonel  Colin  Harding,  C.M.G.,  Commandant  of  the  Barotse  Native  Folk  i. 
and  Late  Acting  Administrator  of  North-West  Rhodesia. 

III. 

The    conclusion    of  Colonel    Harding's    interesting    account    of    his    travels 

in    little-known    Barotseland. 


IVE  days  after  leaving  Kasempa's  I 
reached  the  Katiie  River,  crossing 
en  route  the  Lunga  River.  During 
the  wet  season  a  considerable  part 
of  this  country  is  inundated,  these 
low-lying  parts  being  known  as  the  Kafue  Flats. 
The  Mashukulumbwe  —  a  fine, 
stalwart  tribe,  great  hunters,  and 
fleet  as  the  game  they  chase  — 
inhabit  both  banks  of 
the  river. 

Of  all  the  natives  I 
have  met  I  think  the 
Mashukulumbwe  are  the 
most  silly  and  aggra- 
vating. The  traveller 
must  never  take  them 
seriously,  and  it  is  well 
to  accept  everything 
they  say  with  a  grain 
of  salt.  Whenever  I 
arrived  at  one  of  their 
villages  all  the  inhabi- 
tants would  turn  out 
and  follow  me  and  my 
horse  for  miles,  clap- 
ping and  cheering,  for 
no  purpose  whatever  so 
far  as  I  could  see.  They 
smoke  a  very  long  pipe, 
and  in  the  midst  of  a 
serious  palaver  will,  if 
not  corrected,  light  up, 
smoke,  and  then  hand 
the  fragrant  weed  round 

to  their  friends,  immediately  starting  an  objec- 
tionable chorus  of  coughing,  which  is  the  correct 
etiquette  for  a  Mashukulumbwe  smoking  party. 
They  are  apt  clay  workers,  and  their  pipes  are 
fashioned  to  represent  every  variety  of  game  in 
the  country.  They  also  make  clay  animals  and 
'colour  them  with  ochre.    The  above  photograph* 

I  am  indebted  to  Major  Garden  and  Mr.  Aitkens  for  some  of  the 
ohotographs  illustrating  this  article. 


shows  a  small  Mashukulumbwe  boy  belonging 
to  one  of  the  missions  playing  with  some  of 
these  toys,  which,  it  will  be  seen,  are  very  like 
the  Noah's  Ark  creations  beloved  by  European? 
children. 

The  amazing  head-dress  of  the  Mashuku- 
lumbwe would  rival  the  production 
of  Truefitt  or  any  London  hair- 
dresser.     When  a  boy  has  arrived 


A    MASHUKL'LUMIUVF.    BOY    CLAYING  WITH    NATIVE 

From  a  Photo. 


at  a  certain  age  he  at  once  starts 
to  grow  a  head-dress.  With  the 
exception  of  the  back  of  his  head  every  part  of 
his  cranium  is  shaved  and  the  "crop"  carefully 
collected.  This,  after  being  mixed  with  grease 
and  other  substances,  is  smeared  over  a  long 
wickerwoik  stem  placed  on  the  back  of  his 
head.  As  time  goes  on  his  collection  of  hair 
increases,  and  1  have  even  been  told  that  the 
object  or  objects  of  his  affection  are  asked  to 
contribute  to  his  monument  of  grease  !     After 


20 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


three  or  four  years  the 
erection  has  assumed 
large  proportions,  some 
I  have  seen  being  four 
or  five  feet  long.  At 
night  these  head-dresses 
are  tied  to  the  roofs  of 
the  owners'  huts,  or  else 
the  wearer  has  to  sleep 
with  his  head  out  of 
doors.  Naturally,  with 
hair  trained  in  this 
extraordinary  way,  it  is 
impossible  for  the  men 
to  carry  loads  on  their 
heads  ;  consequently 
when  employed  as  car- 
riers they  have  to  arrange 
their  loads  on  poles, 
with  half  of  their  load 
in  front  and  the  re- 
mainder at  the  back,  as 
shown  in  the  adjoin- 
ing snap-shot. 

Besides  the  regulation 
load  they  take  two  or 
three  calabashes,  one  for 
their  water  and  another 
for  their  meal  ;  these 
and  a  couple  of  assegais 

complete  their  outfit.  Blankets  as  a  rule  are 
conspicuous  by  their  absence,  and  if  a  carrier 
is  lucky  enough  to  own  one  he  has  to  share  it 
with  three  or  four  companions,  and  as  often 
as  not  finds  that  they  monopolize  the  lion's 


share.     At  other  times  they  stay 
up  half  the  night  crouched  by 
the  fire,  as  seen  in   the  typical 
scene    at  the    bottom,  showing 
a  Mashukulumbwe  kraal,  and  it 
is  no  uncommon  occurrence   to 
see  a  man  with  his  arm 
or    foot   burnt    from   the 
effects  of  too  close  con- 
tact with   the   fire  when 
asleep. 

I  cannot  describe  the 
Mashukulumbwe  as  a 
moral  race,  though 
should  they  go  too  far 
in  the  direction  of  hating 
their  neighbour  and  lov- 
ing his  wife  it  ofttimes 
leads   to  serious  com  pi  i- 


THE  AMAZING  HEAD -DRESS 
OF  THE  MASHUKULUMBWE 
— SOME  OF  THESE  "  DF.CO- 
RATIONS"      ARE     FIVE     FEKT 

From  a]     long.      [P/ioto. 


TVI'ICAL    MASHUKULUMBWE    KRAAL. 


[Photo. 


SHUKULUMBWE    TRIBESMAN    ON   THE    MARCH. 

From  a  Photo. 


cations.  .  Talking  to  some 
Mashukulumbwe  indunas 
the  other  day  I  saw  one 
who  was  minus  an  arm. 
After  a  deal  of  persuasion 
he  explained  to  me  that  he 
had  loved  not  wisely  but 
too  well,  a  fact  which  was 
resented  by  the  lady's  hus- 
band, and  he  lost  his  arm 
as  damages.  Another  man 
who  was  sitting  near  me 
had  lost  his  ear  for  a  similar 
reason,  while  yet  another 
native  Lothario  was  minus 
a  couple  of  fingers.  The 
women  are  dressed  in  skins, 


AMONG    THE    BAROTSE. 


21 


which  their  lords  and  admirers  obtain  for  them. 
The  cows  live  in  the  kraals,  and  the  calves  share 
the  hut  with  their  owner. 

Mosquitoes  abound  on  the  Kafue  Flats,  and 
it  is  no  uncommon  sight  to  see  fires  burning  in 
the  cattle  kraals  to  keep  the  mosquitoes  from 
the  oxen.  The  Mashukulumbwe  are  extremely 
fond  of  a  shell  found  on  the  East  Coast  of 
South  Africa,  which  is  used  to  a  great  extent  by 
traders  in   the   Mashukulumbwe    country;    one 


consist  of  reed  huts  thatched  with  grass.  Palms 
abound,  and  a  kraal  and  a  palm  tree  are  as  a 
rule  seen  in  close  proximity. 

Near  the  confluence  of  the  Kafue  and 
Zambesi  Rivers  there  are  some  twenty  miles  of 
rapids,  which  from  a  scenic  point  of  view  I 
consider  unequalled  in  any  part  of  South  Africa. 
For  several  miles  the  Kafue  runs  through  an 
imposing  range  of  hills,  which  force  the  river  in 
a  roaring  torrent  through  a  channel  in  places 
not  more  than  thirty  yards 
wide,  where  the  boiling  waters 
leap  over  huge  boulders,  and 
at  times  fall  perpendicularly 
over  apparently  unsurmount- 
able  obstacles. 

Travelling  from  the 
Mashukulumbwe  district 
towards  the  Victoria 
Falls  the  country  under- 
goes a  complete  change. 
Thick  woods  take  the 
place  of  the  monotonous 
Kafue    Flats,    and   an 


Front  a]         A  GOOD  BAG.  [Photo. 

of  the  larger  shells  will  buy 
an  ox  worth  two  or  three 
pounds,  though  the  same 
shell  probably  only  cost  the 
trader  as  many  shillings. 
These  are  worn  by  the 
owners  round  their  necks, 
and  are  often  given  to  settle 
some  law  case,  or  for  the 
purchase  of  a  wife. 

Game  abounds  in  the 
M.ishukulumbwe  country, 
and  a  good  native  bag  is 
shown  in  the  above  photo. 
I  have  repeatedly  seen  herds  of  various  descrip- 
tions of  buck  numbering  not  fewer  than  seven 
or  eight  hundred. 

There  are  numerous  crocodiles  in  the  Kafue 
River,  and  their  eggs  are  found  generally  in  sand 
close  to  the  bank,  and,  as  is  well  known,  are 
hatched  by  the  sun.  The  accompanying  photo 
graph  is  probably  unique,  showing  as  it  does  a 
crocodile's  nest  containing  no  fewer  than 
seventy-four  eggs. 

The  country  which  is  inhabited  by  the  Mashu- 
kulumbwe is  not,  as  a  rule,  well  wooded,  con- 
sequently   their    picturesque    kraals    invariably 


l-HIS    UNIQUE    PHOTOGRAPH    SHOWS    A    CROCODILES    NEST 
CONTAINING    NO    FEWER   THAN    SEVENTY-FOUR   EGGS. 


almost  impassable  range  of  mountains  bars  tl  e 
way  between  Monza's  Kraal  and  the  river. 
Near  the  Falls  a  drift  has  been  established  at 
a  place  named  Tshete,  which  is  really  the  most 
direct  route  from  the  Mashukulumbwe  countrv 
to  Bulawayo.  Of  course,  now  that  the  Cape  to 
Cairo  Railway  has  reached  the  Falls,  this  drift 
will  be  little  used. 

The  photo,  given  at  the  top  of  page  23  will 
describe  better  than  I  am  able  the  beauty  of  the 
Zambesi  at  this  point.  I  have  previously  re- 
marked that  Kazungula  was  a  "gate"  or  drift 
to    Barotseland.      It   was   here   that    Lewanika 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE 


F>om  a\ 


A    PICTURESQUE    KRAAL    IN    THE    KAFUE   COUNTRY. 


received  his  official  welcome  from  his  people 
when  he  returned  with  me  from  his  visit  to  the 
Coronation. 

The  following  photograph  was  taken  on  the 
north  bank  of  the  river,  and  the  people  are  seen 
rushing  down  to  the  water  as  the  boat  which 
conveyed  Lewanika  and  myself  approached. 
Mr.  R.  T.  Coryndon,  the  Administrator  of 
North -West  Rhodesia,  is  to  be  seen  in  the 
foreground  coming  to  welcome  us.  It  was  one 
of  those  many  scenes  which  will  ever  live  in 
my  memory,  and  which  occurred  re- 
peatedly on  our  journey  up  the 
Zambesi  River  to  Lewanika's  capital 
at  I.ealui.  His  people  had  generally 
given  him  up  as  lost,  the  more  ignorant 
thinking  that  the  Government  had 
kidnapped  their  chief  for  some  poli- 
tical reason.  When  the  news  reached 
Lealui  that  Lewanika  had  actually 
arrived  at  Bulawayo,  food  in  the 
shape  of  hippo  and  fish  was  sent  by 
Letia  to  meet  his  father  on  the  road. 
Every  day  people  met  us  with  loads 
of  "  high  "  fish  and  still  higher  hippo 
steak,  and  I  am  convinced  that  no 
meal  was  enjoyed  as  much  by  the  old 
chief  in  England  as  his  first  hippo 
steak  under  the  shade  of  his  bullock: 
waggon. 

Hut  to  return  to  our  land- 
ing at  Kazungula.    The  people 
were  quile  beside  themselves, 
and  as  the  boat  reached  the 
bank  they  rushed  madly  into 
the  river,  seized — to  the  peril  of  its  occ 
pant     the  boat  of  their  chief,  and  dragged 
■  it  with   its  contents  at  least  a  dozen  yards 
on  dry  land.    Safe  on  terra  firma  Lewanika, 


with  great  dignity,  proceeded  to 
a  seat  which  had  been  arranged 
for  him,  from  which  he  received 
the  salutations  of  his  son  Letia 
and  the  rest  of  the  local  natives. 
We  remained  at  Kazungula  for 
four  or  five  days,  during  which 
time,    thanks     to    the    incessant 


CKOSSINi;    TF.E    ZAMBESI. 

From  a  I'hoto. 


23 


THE   ZAMBESI,    NEAR    SOKETKE. 

From  a  Fhoto. 


dancing  and  noise  of  the  drums,  sleep  was  out 
of  the  question,  and,  as  Lewanika  insisted  upon 
my  tent  being  placed  close  to  his,  I  came  in  for' 
a  fair  share  of  this  flattering  disturbance. 

Lewanika's  visit  to  England  and  the  attention 
which  he  had  received  there  had  not  spoilt  him 
in  the  least,  and  I  soon  found  that  he  was  as 
polite  and  thoughtful  as  ever.  One  incident  struck 


me  particularly.  When  landing  at  Kazungula  I 
asked  the  chief  to  go  first.  "  No,"  he  replied, 
"  I  am  in  my  own  country  now  ;  you  are  the  big 
chief  and  must  go  first";  and  this  was  the  attitude 
he  constantly 
evinced  towards 
methroughoutthe 
journey  to  Lealui. 


By  Bernard  St.   Lawrence. 

"  Capoeiras  "  are  the  Brazilian  equivalent  of  the  class  of  ruffians  known  in  London  as  "hooligans," 
in  America  as  "bad  men"  or  "hoodlums,"  in  Australia  as  "larrikins,"  and  in  Paris  as  "Apaches," 
save  that  they  are  probably  even  more  formidable.  Trained  in  a  most  peculiar  method  of  fighting, 
having  small  razors  fixed  in  their  hair,  and  often  carrying  others,  they  can  inflict  terrible  wounds 
by  charging  an  adversary  with  head  down.  They  are  so  agile  that  it  is  almost  impossible  to  aim  a 
revolver  at   them.      In    this    story  the    author   narrates   his    thrilling   experience    with  one   of  these 

miscreants  whose  jealousy  he  had  unwittingly  aroused. 


S  we  rode  up  the  Itatiaia  Mountains 
I  began  to  realize  what  a  large 
country  Brazil  is,  with  its  vast  soli- 
tudes still  so  little  frequented  by 
man.  A  sense  of  loneliness  came 
upon  me  as  I  looked  back  upon  the  last  village 
we  had  left,  the  little  white  houses  of  which 
stood  out  like  big  mushrooms  against  the  red 
earth.  There  was  something  desolate  and  yet 
fascinating  in  the  expanse  of  mountains  as  I 
climbed  higher:  they  looked  like  a  world  as 
yet  unfashioned. 

No  incident  particularly  worthy  of  mention 
happened  on  the  journey,  and  I  reached  the 
hacienda  for  which  I  was  bound  in  safety. 
It  was  a  large,  tumbledown  old  house,  seldom 
used,  and  far  from  the  plantations,  so  that  we 
took  up  our  abode  in  a  "  barraca  " ■  — a  house 
built  of  wood,  of  the  kind  used  by  the  work- 
people on  the  estate,  whose  habitations  formed 
a  small  colony  around  us. 

Though  life  is  dull  upon  a  farm  in  the 
interior  of  Brazil,  there  is  much  of  interest  to  a 
stranger,    and  I  tried  to  learn  all  I  could.     I 


must  confess,  however,  that  I  did  not  receive 
much  help  from  anyone,  save  from  a  girl  who 
happened  to  know  a  few  words  of  English, 
which  she  loved  to  air  on  every  possible 
occasion.  Being  an  Englishman,  I  seemed  to 
possess  a  great  attraction  for  her,  and  we  came 
much  into  each  other's  company.  I  was  very 
fortunate  in  this,  for  she  was  one  of  the  most 
intelligent  persons  in  the  district,  and  had 
become  quite  a  person  of  authority  on  account 
of  the  many  good  deeds  she  had  done  there. 
She  worked  hard  to  keep  her  mother  and  sisters, 
who  were  good-for-nothing  and  lazy.  Her 
name  was  Chica — short  for  Francesca.  It  was 
to  this  girl  that  I  was  always  referred  when  in 
any  difficulty,  because  of  her  knowledge  of 
English,  which  the  people  thought  to  be  much 
greater  than  it  really  was  ;  and  thus  I  saw  more 
of  her  than  would  otherwise  have  been  the  case, 
going  on  several  occasions  to  her  "  barraca," 
where  her  mother  sat  near  the  door  eternally 
spinning  cotton  or  drying  tobacco  on  little 
sticks. 

1    think    these   occasional    \isifcs  pleased  the 


A    FIGHT    WITH    A    "  CAPOEIRA." 


2'5 


girl's  vanity,  for  she  took  me  quite  under  her 
protection,  pointed  out  all  the  interesting  sights, 
and  gave  me  much  information.  Soon  the  day 
drew  near  for  my  return  to  more  civilized  parts. 
It  had  been  a  quiet,  uneventful  sojourn  ;  in 
fact,  on  the  last  day  but  one  before  my  depar- 
ture I  was  thinking  how  humdrum  my  trip  into 
the  interior  had  been,  when  there  occurred  the 
exciting  incidents  which  it  is  my  intention  to 
relate  and  which  quite  changed  my  opinion  of 
the  trip. 

On  the  day  in  question  a  great  "  batugue  " 
was  given.  This  dance — of  Indian  origin — is 
not  such  as  would  be  popular  in  very  refined 
circles.  Nevertheless,  from  its  peculiarity  it 
merits  some  description.  You  must  not  look 
for  graceful  movements  in 
a  "  batugue."  An  insinu- 
ating but  rather  mono- 
tonous tune  is  played  upon 
a  guitar,  and  the  men, 
beating  time  with  their 
naked  feet,  make  up  a 
couplet  —  comic,  senti- 
mental, or  satirical,  as  the 
fancy  takes  them  —  which 
they  sing  to  the  women, 
who  thereupon  make  suit- 
able reply.  All  then  clap 
their  hands  in  time  to  the 
music,  and  each  man  in 
turn  capers  more  or  less 
wildly  before  his  partner, 
after  which  they  dance 
together  for  awhile.  This 
is  repeated  by  each  couple 
one  after  the  other,  while 
those  not  dancing  sing  and 
clap  their  hands.  The 
dance  is  common  all  over  Brazil,  and  particu- 
larly so  up-country,  though  it  is  only  affected  by 
the  lower  classes. 

I  had  often  seen  the  people  dancing  it,  but 
had  never  been  to  a  regular  big  "  batugue,"  so  I 
looked  forward  to  the  function  with  no  small 
interest.  There  was  to  be  a  beautiful  Spanish 
girl  there  too,  who  lived  near  the  plantation,  and 
who  interested  me  much,  for  I  had  often  seen 
her  and  wondered  why  she  stayed  in  such  an 
out-of-the-way  and  lonely  place.  It  was  said  she 
would  perform  some  of  the  dances  of  her  own 
country  that  night,  for  she  would  not  take  part 
in  the  "  batugue"  and  was  looked  upon  as  in- 
sufferably high-minded  for  that  reason. 

When  the  night  came  round  I  went  early  to 
the  place  where  the  "  batugue  "  was  to  be  held, 
and  had  not  long  taken  up  a  position  whence  I 
could  see  what  was  going  forward,  when  a  voice 
close  to  my  ear  said,  in  surprised  tones  :   "  Is  the 

Vol.  xiv.— 4.. 


THE   AUTHOR,    MR.    BERNARD   ST.    LAWRENCE. 

Fro»i  a  Photo. 


son  of  bif  come  batatas  (beef  and  potatoes) 
come  here  to  dance  ?  "  I  turned  and  saw  my 
little  friend  Chica.  It  was  now  my  turn  to  be 
surprised,  for  Chica  never  attended  these  dances, 
which,  as  I  have  said,  are  not  of  a  very  elevating 
character.  My  answer  to  her  question,  there- 
fore, took  the  form  of  stolid  silence,  while  I 
looked  askance  at  her.  This  had  the  desired 
effect,  for  Chica  immediately  began  to  explain 
her  presence.  It  was  to  see  the  Spanish 
girl  Nita,  she  said,  and  last,  though  not 
least,  because  her  betrothed  had  come  to  see 
her,  and  she  wanted  to  prevent  him  from  joining 
in  the  dance,  of  which  she  much  disapproved. 
Brazilians,  whether  good  or  bad,  are  very 
jealous,  and  Chica,  though  a  good  girl,  was  fond 

of  admiration,  so  I  guessed 
that  she  looked  upon  the 
beautiful  Nita  with  no 
favourable  eye,  fearing  that 
she  might  attract  the  roving 
eye  of  Domingo,  her  be- 
trothed. It  was  for  these 
reasons,  Chica  explained 
at  length,  that  she  was 
present  at  the  "  batugue  " 
that  evening. 

We  looked  on  at  the 
scene  for  awhile  in  silence, 
waiting  to  see  if  Nita  would 
begin  her  performance  ;  but 
though  she  was  there  she 
did  nothing,  but  talked 
rather  listlessly  to  a  little 
man  I  had  never  seen 
before.  Presently  Chice 
said,  "  Let  us  go,  senhor  : 
she'll  never  begin,  and  1 
can  make  as  pretty  music 
as  this  for  you  under  the  palm-trees  yonder.'' 
She  pointed  to  a  clump  of  trees  with  one  hand, 
and  with  the  other  showed  me  a  little  guitar  she 
had  with  her.  There  was  a  shadow  of  dis- 
pleasure on  her  face  as  she  spoke,  but  I  took 
little  notice  of  it,  and  we  moved  away. 

The  "  batugue  "  was  held  in  the  open  air,  the 
weather  being  warm.  The  people  were  strolling 
about  or  sitting  here  or  there  chatting,  smoking, 
singing,  or  playing,  as  the  fancy  took  them. 
Chica  and  I  sat  down  beneath  a  tree,  and  she 
began  to  talk  of  her  country — a  favourite  theme 
with  her — telling  me  of  the  days  when  the 
culture  of  sugar-cane  was  a  flourishing  industry, 
and  exulting  in  the  fact  that  cotton  was  daily 
increasing  in  importance. 

Presently,  detaching  a  string  from  her  waist, 
Chica  fastened  it  on  her  wrist.  At  the  end  of 
this  string  dangled  a  paper  manikin,  so  that  as 
Chica  sat  to  play  his  feet  just  touched  the  ground, 


26 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


and  he  stood,  as  it  were,  upon  it,  following  the 
action  of  her  hand  and  thus  producing  faithfully 
the  movements  of  a  dance  she  played.  This 
performance  soon  restored  Chica's  gaiety,  and 
was,    indeed,    so    grotesque    as    to    cause   the 


AT   THK    END   OF    THE    STRING    DANGLED    A    PAPER    MANIKIN. 

onlookers  great  merriment.  It  was  during  a 
hearty  burst  of  laughter  caused  by  the  antics  of 
the  doll  that  a  thin  little  man  whom  I  had 
previously  observed,  and  who  looked  as  if  he 
had  the  agility  of  twenty  monkeys  in  him,  came 
along  and  spoke  to  Chica.  She  did  not  seem 
pleased  at  the  interruption,  and  he  was  evidently 
annoyed  with  her.  The  interview,  however, 
was  short,  for  she  sent  him  away  with  a  curt 
remark.  As  he  went  the  girl  began  to  make 
her  manikin  jump  furiously,  exclaiming  loudly, 
"  It's  so  like  him  !"  The  man  heard  her,  for  he 
turned  his  head,  though  he  said  nothing.  When 
he  had  gone  Chica  told  me  his  name  was 
Domingo,  and  that  she  was  destined  to  be  his 
wife.  "  He  is  a  Capoeira,"  she  added,  in  a  lower 
tone. 

"  What  is  that  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Didn't  you  see  any  in  Rio?"  said  the  girl. 

'  They  are  men  trained  to  move  so  quickly  that 

when    fighting   they   are   impossible    to    catch. 

They  are  not  generally  strong,  but  light,  and  so 

active.     They  do  evil  things.      In  their  woolly 


hair  they  fix  a  little  razor,  and,  ducking  their 
heads,  they  run  with  all  their  might  at  a  man, 
killing  him  if  they  choose;  and  all  the  time 
they  move  so  quickly  that  it  is  most  difficult 
even  to  take  aim  at  them  with  a  pistol." 

I  had  heard  of  something  of  the  kind,  and 
asked  Chica  many  questions  concerning  these 
men. 

She  told  me  their  method  of  attack  was  to 
circle  round  and  round  a  man,  suddenly  making 
furious  thrusts  at  him  with  the 
head.  If  there  is  a  razor  in  the 
head — or  in  the  hand,  as  happens 
rather  often  —  it  is  a  serious 
matter.  Even  without  these 
weapons  they  can  do  much 
damage,  and  have  been  known 
to  kill  a  man  with  a  well-placed 
kick.  I  had  heard  vague  stories 
before  about  these  ruffians,  and 
listened  to  Chica's  recital  with 
interest,  idly  wishing  I  might  see 
a  real  Capoeira  in  action.  I  was 
about  to  utter  the  wish  aloud, 
when  I  heard,  in  many  different 
tones,  the  long-drawn  "  Oh  !  oh  !  " 
with  which  Brazilians  call  atten 
tion  to  anything  worth  seeing: 
Rising  to  look,  I  saw  that  Nita, 
the  Spanish  girl,  was  dancing  ;  so 
bidding,  I  fear,  a  rather  hasty 
good-bye  to  Chica,  I  went  in 
among  the  people  to  watch  what  was  going  on. 
There  was  always  something  inexplicably 
fascinating  to  me  in  the  sound  of  the  castanets, 
and  when  Nita  held  them  and  danced  it  was  a 
veritable  poem  of  motion.  Her  tiny  feet  hardly 
seemed  to  touch  the  ground,  so  lightly  and 
gracefully  they  moved.  Presently  she  ran  for- 
ward with  bewitching  grace,  inviting  one  amongst 
us  to  stand  before  her  and  be  her  partner.  All 
the  men  struggled  for  the  honour,  and  I  found 
myself  side  bv  side  with  the  ill-favoured  Domingo. 
Half  to  please  myself,  and  half  because  I 
thought  little  Chica  would  be  glad  if  I  danced 
with  this  siren  instead  of  her  betrothed,  I 
pushed  Domingo  aside  rather  unceremoniously, 
but  in  one  bound  he  stood  before  me,  trying 
to  assume  the  haughty  grace  of  a  Spanish 
cavalier.  With  a  laugh  at  my  momentary 
folly  I  was  turning  away,  when  I  saw  Nita 
shake  her  forefinger  in  the  air  at  Domingo, 
which  amongst  Spaniards  and  Brazilians  means 
"No,"  and  at  the  same  time — no  doubt  through 
some  caprice  — she  beckoned  me  to  take  his 
place.  I  lost  no  time  in  going  forward,  and  we 
danced  awhile  together,  Domingo  throwing  an 
angry  glance  my  way  ere  he  disappeared  in  the 
crowd. 


A    FIGHT    WITH    A    "CAPOEIRA.' 


27 


HE   STOOD    BEFORE    ME,    TRYING    TO    ASSUME    THE    HAUGHTY 
GRACE   OF    A    SI'ANISH    CAVALIER." 


Soon  after  this  Nita  left  the  scene  of  her 
triumph,  and  I  wandered  about  looking  idly  at 
the  various  groups,  exchanging  a  word  here  and 
there  with  those  I  knew  amongst  them. 

I  was  just  about  to  leave  the  place  when  I 
heard  Chica  asking  Domingo,  in  angry  terms, 
why  he  had  stayed  so  long  at  the  dance. 

"  Why  did  you  leave  us  to  play  and  sing  to 
the  Englishman  ?  "  he  replied,  viciously. 

"  You  didn't  come  near  me,"  cried  Chica, 
rapidly.  "  Why  did  you  stay  with  Nita?  What 
do  you  see  in  her?  " 

Domingo  spoke  slowly  and  insultingly,  saying 
that  Nita  was  beautiful,  graceful,  and  amiable, 
and  all  the  rest  of  it.  So  the  dispute  went  on, 
till  at  last  Chica  left  him  with  angry  words,  and 
flung  up  against  me  as  I  stood  there  astonished 
that  I  had,  though  quite  unwittingly,  anything 
to  do  with  this  lovers'  quarrel. 

She  begged  my  pardon  in  some  confusion, 
and  then  asked  me  to  guide  her  through  the 
throng  of  people  until  she  should  be  safe.  I 
guessed  this  was  meant  to  annoy   Domingo,  for 


Chica  wore  that  night  a  longish  knife  with  a 
curious  handle,  so  that  she  could  have  gone 
alone,  if  necessary,  and,  besides,  she  was  so 
much  respected  that  it  was  not  likely  she  would 
suffer  at  the  hands  of  any- 
one. Therefore  I  asked  why 
Domingo  did  not  perform  this 
duty,  but  Chica,  still  smarting 
from  the  quarrel,  declared  that 
she  would  not  allow  it.  Think- 
ing it  wiser  to  put  an  end  to 
the  matter,  therefore,  I  com- 
plied with  her  request.  Once 
clear  of  the  crowd  I  left  her, 
and  went  musing  to  bed. 
There  my  thoughts  went  back 
over  the  events  of  the  evening, 
and  I  saw  that  I  had  un- 
wittingly made  an  enemy  of 
Domingo  the  Capoeira.  It 
was  clear  from  his  point  of 
view  that  there  was  much  to 
complain  of  in  my  conduct, 
for  Chica  had  spoken  to  me  at 
the  beginning  of  the  evening 
and  had  sung  to  me,  sending 
Domingo  away  from  her,  and, 
though  I  had  nothing  to  re- 
proach myself  with,  I  knew  it 
would  be  futile  to  try  and 
explain  things  to  the  angry  lover,  for  Brazilians 
are  intensely  jealous. 

Finally  I  dismissed  the  matter  from  my  mind, 
listened  awhile  to  the  faint  sounds  of  music  and 
singing  that  floated  in,  and  then  fell  asleep. 

It  must  have  been  very  late  when  I  was 
awakened  by  a  slight  noise  from  the  outside 
of  the  house,  and  through  the  crevices  which 
occurred  here  and  there  in  the  frail  woodwork 
that  framed  its  sides  I  saw  what  seemed  to  be  a 
figure  peering.  I  judged  it  wise  to  have  a  look 
round,  though  there  were  many  people  abroad 
that  night  in  the  "  barraca "  who  were  not 
generally  there,  and  this  might  well  be  one 
among  them  or  only  a  belated  reveller  desirous 
of  laying  his  weary  limbs  to  rest  somewhere  or 
other. 

Rising,  therefore,  and  feeling  for  the  revolver 
I  had  been  warned  always  to  carry  about  with 
me,  I  picked  my  way  over  the  prostrate  forms 
that  lay  across  my  path,  opened  the  door,  and 
went  out. 

Not  a  sound  disturbed  the  stillness  of  the 
night,  and,  finding  no  one  near  the  spot  whence 
the  sounds  had  proceeded,  I  moved  some  yards 
away  from  the  shelter  of  the  house,  the  better 
to  admire  the  glorious  moon  and  stars  blazing 
above  my  head.  Then  I  heard  distinctly  the 
soft  tread  of  naked  feet,  and  an  odd  sensation 


28 


THE     WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


as  of  some  evil  thing  approaching  came  over 
me.  There  was  something  awe-inspiring  in  that 
quiet,  stealthy  sound  breaking  in  on  the  calm 
beauty  of  the  night.  Turning  quickly  I  beheld 
a  weird  object — a  small,  thin  man,  who  began 
to  wheel  round  me  in  rapid  circles.  Too 
amazed  at  first  to  reason,  I  thought  he  must  be 
drunk  or  mad,  until  I  saw  something  upon  his 
head  that  gleamed  blue  in  the  moonlight,  and 
which  helped  me  to  realize  my  peril.  It  was 
Domingo  the  Capoeira,  and  I  was  to  be  the 
object  of  one  of  the  terrible  onslaughts  of  which 
Chica  had  told  me. 

Guessing  that  he  meant  to  give  me  a  "  cabe- 
cada  "  (thrust  with  the  head)  I  at  once  pulled 
out  my  revolver  and  tried  to  take  a  steady  aim 
at  him.     This  was  no  easy  task,  however,  for  he 


"  I    TRtED   TO    TAKE    A    STEADY   AIM    AT    HIM.' 


shifted  his  position  continually  with  quick,  light- 
ning-like movements.  Just  as  I  was  about  to 
fire,  unable  to  bear  the  tension  any  longer, 
Chica  appeared  from  somewhere  and  ran  up 
against  him.  I  never  knew  how  it  happened, 
but  she  was  knocked  over,  with  the  blood  pour- 
ing from  a  slight  wound  in  her  arm. 

Hearing  her  cry  as  she  fell  heavily  to  the 
ground,  I  rushed  headlong  at  Domingo,  hoping 
to  secure  him  while  he  was  not  moving,  but 
went  with  too  much  impetus,  and  we  both  rolled 


over  in  a   heap,   my  revolver  going  off  in  the 
struggle. 

The  report  disturbed  the  heavy  sleepers  in 
the  houses,  and  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  there 
was  a  curious  group  of  men  and  women  on  the 
spot.  Picturesque,  too,  they  looked  in  the  soft 
light,  many  with  their  various  coloured  night 
coverings  still  hanging  about  them.  All  talked 
and  asked  questions  excitedly. 

Domingo  said  something  in  a  low  tone,  the 
purport  of  which  I  did  not  understand,  but 
there  began  to  be  ominous  murmurs  against  the 
"Inglez."  I  do  not  know  what  might  have 
happened  had  not  the  owner  of  the  plantation 
opportunely  appeared  upon  the  scene,  and 
between  commands  and  threats  he  restored 
some  order.     To  my  astonishment  he  told  me 

that  it  would 
be  advisable  for 
me  to  leave  the 
place  next  day, 
as  my  presence 
there  might 
cause  serious 
disturbances. 
After  consider- 
ation I  made 
no  objection, 
and  set  out  for 
the  coast  the 
following  morn- 
ing. 

I  never  set 
eyes  upon  poor 
little  Chica 
again,  for  dur- 
ing the  confer- 
ence with  mine 
host  she  dis- 
appeared, and 
to  all  my  in- 
quiries as  to 
where  she  was 
and  how  she 
fared  a  stolid 
"  >i  a  o  sot" 
I  sincerely  hope 
harm  at   the  hands 


(don't  know)  was  returned 
that  she  suffered  no  further 
of  her  ruffianly  suitor. 

I  made  good  progress  on  my  journey,  and  as 
I  approached  Rio  Janeiro  I  felt  heartily  glad  to 
think  that  I  should  soon  be  in  regions  where 
dangerous  and  unpleasant  adventures  do  not 
happen  so  frequently  as  on  a  Brazilian  planta- 
tion in  the  interior,  and  where  I  should  be 
tolerably  safe  from  the  jealous  hatred  of  Domingo 
the  Capoeira. 


The  "Bachelors'  Banquet "  at  Ecaussines. 

AN    EXTRAORDINARY    MATRIMONIAL   EXPERIMENT. 
By  Mrs.  J.  E.  Whitby,  of  Brussels. 

A   description    of    the    remarkable   festival    which    takes    place    annually    in    a    little   Belgian   village, 

where    the    young    ladies   entertain    the    bachelors,  who   assemble  from  far  and   near,  and  who  are  in 

return  expected  to  select    their    life-partners.      Our  Special  Commissioner  herself   secured    an    admirer 

on  matrimony  bent,  and  her  experiences  make  very  amusing  reading. 


HEN  last  year  the  sixty  marriageable 
young  girls  of  Ecaussines-Lalaing,  in 
Belgian  Hainault,  came  to  the 
sorrowful  conclusion  that  their  own 
small  village  could  not  provide  suffi- 
cient husbands  to  go  round,  and  issued  their 

now    famous    invitation    to    the    young   men  of 

foreign     parts    (the 

expression,    in   local 

parlance,     including 

the    lads   from    the 

village  over  the  hill 

as     well     as     those 

from  strange  coun- 
tries) to  a  "  goilter," 

that    they    might 

make    acquaintance 

with  a  possible  view 

to    matrimony,   they 

as   little   realized 

that   their  idea 

would      become 

world-celebrated    as 

did  I  that  I  should 

ever    be    associated 

with    it.       But  Eate 

and    the    Editor   of 

The  Wide  World 

Magazine     obliged 

me  to  leave  Brussels 

by  an  early  morning 

train  on  Whit-Mon- 
day,  May   23rd,    en 

route  for  that  delec- 
table    spot,    where, 

the    anniversary    of 

the    first    successful 

venture     having 

come      round,     the 


THE   QUAINT    LITTLE    WAYSIDE    SHRINE   TO    WHICH     GIRLS     ON     MATRIMONY 

From  a]  bent  go  Tr  pray  for  husbands.  [Photo. 


experiment  was  to  be  repeated,  husbands  being 
expectedon  that  day  to  drop,  ripe  and  ready  for 
the  hymeneal  altar,  into  the  expectant  arms  of 
the  spinsters  of  Ecaussines. 

An  hour's  journey  through  one  of  the  most 
charmingly  picturesque  parts  of  Belgium,  remi- 
niscent in  its  rich,  rolling,  pasture  of  parts  of 

England,  brought 
me  to  my  goal. 
The  station  was 
faced  with  a  little 
cemetery,  so  full  of 
grand  monuments 
as  to  speak  volumes 
for  the  quarries  of 
Ecaussines,  whence 
stone  is  exported  to 
France  and  America. 
The  natives  secure 
this  stone  so  cheap 
that  in  the  case  of 
an  extravagant  wife, 
as  a  weary-looking 
man  confided  to 
me,  "the  grand 
monument  is  an 
absolute  economy." 
Ecaussines  d'Eng- 
hien  is  the  first  place 
reached,  and  then 
comes  Ecaussines- 
Lalaing,  the  two 
being  divided  by  a 
streamlet  which 
might  be  a  mighty 
ocean,  so  effectually 
does  it  separate 
them.  Ecaussines 
d'Enghien  professed 


m6^0^M 


**.  V  .^ttfe.*:  *  >»i 


3° 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


to  be  entirely  ignorant  of  the  day's  festival  in  its 
sister  village,  though  the  floral  arches  which 
crossed  its  roads  could  be  plainly  seen.  The  pro- 
prietor of  a  small  draper's  shop  said,  with  a  fine 
air  of  indifference,  that  she  had  seen  something 
about  it  in  the  papers,  but  really  knew  nothing 
definite,  nor  could  she  give  me  the  address  of  the 
editor  of  a  little  local  paper  of  whom  I  was  seeking 
information.  The  rivalry  has  been  made  more 
bitter  than  ever  now,  in  that  Ecaussines-Lalaing 
has  hit  upon  an  idea  which  has  brought  many 
matrimonial  prizes  and  much  trade,  and  has, 
moreover,  become  famous,  not  only  in  the 
general  idea,  but  as  having  in  these  hours  of 
commonplace  actually  succeeded  in  originating 
a  delightful  country  custom  (for  its  continuation 


By  two  o'clock  the  village  windows  each 
framed  the  figure  of  a  young  girl,  dressed  in  her 
simple  Sunday  best,  smiling,  blushing,  and  look- 
ing out  like  sister  Anne  "  for  someone  coming," 
and  perhaps  singing  in  her  heart,  "  Is  nobody 
coming  to  marry  me  ?  "  Invitations  by  notices, 
circulars,  and  the  newspapers  had  been  sent 
out  far  and  wide,  and  the  youths  responded 
nobly  to  the  call.  From  two  o'clock  on- 
wards young  men  came  pouring  into  that 
Adamless  Eden  in  swarms.  They  were  of 
all  sorts  and  classes,  from  farm-labourers  who, 
clean,  shining,  and  guffawing,  arrived  in  lumber- 
ing carts,  and  young  farmers  with  rakish  hats 
and  smart  ties,  who  drove  neat  gigs,  to  the 
townsmen,  who  arrived  by  train  in  a  delightful 


THE   TABLES   SPREAD    FOR    THE    FEAST. 

From  a  Photo,  by  E.  Poliart. 


is   certain)  at  a  time  when   such  are  fast  dis- 
appearing. 

The  "  gouter  "  to  which  the  young  men  were 
invited  was  not  fixed  till  four  o'clock,  the 
"  gouter  " — a  term  which  may  mean  luncheon, 
tea,  or  any  odd  meal — meaning  in  this  case 
coffee  and  cakes.  This  allowed  of  a  stroll 
round  the  neighbourhood,  where  there  are  many 
interesting  things  to  be  seen.  One  of  the  most 
curious  is  the  quaint  little  votive  chapel — seen 
in  the  introductory  photograph — to  which  the 
girls  on  matrimony  bent  go  to  pray  for  husbands. 


incongruity  of  attire,  having  apparently  lost 
themselves  amid  the  flush  of  their  own  ward- 
robes, emerging  in  brown  or  white  boots,  frock- 
coats,  and  bowler  hats.  Some  bachelors  even 
came  in  automobiles. 

It  was  noticeable  that  few  men  came  alone, 
but  one  was  to  be  watched  nearing  the  village 
by  a  winding  road,  cheering  his  loneliness  with 
a  concertina,  on  which  he  played  melaNcholy 
love-ditties.  He  paid  not  the  slightest  heed 
to  the  crowd  on  arrival ;  but,  blushing  crimson, 
played  himself  into  the  depths  of  a  cafet  whence 


THE    "BACHELORS'    BANQUET"    AT    ECAUSSINES. 


3i 


he  only  emerged  when  the  fateful  moment  for 
going  to  table  arrived,  when,  apparently  having 
quietly  marked  his  quarry,  he  made  a  dash  for 
a  young  woman,  twice  his  size  and  certainly 
older,  with  whom  he  was  to  be  seen  later  in 
serious  conversation.  Rows  of  men  came 
together  arm  in  arm  as  though  for  mutual 
emboldenment,  one  party  being  headed  by  a 
small,  wheezy  hand-organ,  whose  encouraging 
strains  perhaps  repaid  them  for  the  trouble  of 
carrying  it. 

Twelve  tables  laid  for  the  festival  dotted 
the  small  "  place  "  on  the  bank  of  the  Sennette 
where  the  "  marriage  feast  "  was  to  take  place. 
On  their  white- 
covered  surfaces 
bowls  for  coffee  were 
placed.  They  had 
no  handles,  were 
wreathed  with  roses, 
and  bore  affectionate 
phrases  suitable  to 
the  occasion,  as  did 
the  many  welcoming 
arches,  some  of  which 
bore  appropriate 
designs  of  Cupids 
shooting  with  bows 
and  arrows,  turtle- 
doves, wedding-rings, 
and  carrier  -  pigeons 
with  love-letters.  In- 
deed, everything  pos- 
sible had  been  done 
to  encourage  and  lure 
that  shy  bird,  the 
"eligible  young 
man,"  into  the  cage 
of  m  at  t  r  i  m  o  n  y. 
Flowers  and  paper 
napkins  gave  a  note 
of  decoration  and 
propriety  to  each 
table,  while  several 
self-sacrificing  village 
lads  —  who  in  their 
turn,  perhaps,  seek  their  sweethearts  farther 
afield — had  turned  themselves  for  the  afternoon 
into  white-aproned  waiters. 

Excitement  reached  fever-heat  when  eighteen 
smart  bachelors,  all  with  huge  button-holes  and 
headed  by  a  vivacious  president,  arrived  from 
Brussels,  but  there  was  an  awful  pause  when 
four  o'clock  struck.  Not  one  single  young  girl 
could  be  found  with  sufficient  courage  to  go  to 
the  coffee-tables  and  await  a  companion  !  They 
emerged  shyly  from  their  own  doors,  linked  arms, 
and.  union  giving  courage,  proceeded  to  thread 
the  crowd,  but  remained  deaf  to  all  invitations. 


THE     PRESIDENT     OF     THE     GIRLS 
BACHELORS   WELCOME    1 

From  a 


By  ten  minutes  past  four  they  were  tossing  their 
heads  like  proud  society  beauties,  and  showing 
themselves  off  with  all  the  airs  and  graces  of 
assured  coquettes.  They  even  wound  their  way 
between  the  very  tables — whereat  every  young 
man  adjusted  his  collar  and  pulled  down  his 
waistcoat  and  prepared  for  a  dash — but  they 
would  not  take  their  places.  It  seems  that 
envious  rivals  in  other  villages  had  made  dis- 
paraging remarks  concerning  last  year's  fete  and 
the  anxiety  of  the  girls  of  Ecaussines-Lalaing  to 
secure  husbands,  and,  as  an  old  crone  on  a  door- 
step mumbled,  "  Our  girls  must  show  to-day  that 
they  are  not  to  be  picked  up  in  a  minute." 

The  swains  were 
getting  more  than  a 
little  cross  when,  the 
sacrifice  to  Mrs. 
Grundy  having  been 
paid,  the  girls'  presi- 
dent—  the  eldest  of 
the  party  —  gravely 
took  her  place  at 
table.  Another  and 
another  followed, 
each  leaving  a  vacant 
seat  on  either  side. 
There  was  a  shout 
from  male  throats, 
and  in  an  instant 
every  Jill  had  a  Jack 
beside  her.  They 
rushed  to  the  tables, 
those  bachelors,  as 
though  very  Romans 
in  search  of  Sabine 
wives,  though  honesty 
compels  the  acknow- 
ledgment that,  the 
afternoon  being  hot 
and  many  of  them 
having  come  long 
distances,  they 
seemed  at  first  more 
interested  in  the 
coffee  and  a  peculiar 
sweet  cake  known  as  a  "  mastelle  "  —  made  for 
the  occasion — than  in  sweethearting. 

I  looked  on  with  considerable  interest  at  this 
unique  fete,  and  was  rather  amused  to  find  that 
—inverting  the  usual  order  of  things — the 
bachelors  were  greatly  in  excess  of  the  girls. 
Presently  I  was  receiving  invitations  myself  to 
take  coffee  with  one  or  another  of  the  partner- 
less  swains — invitations  given  by  a  whispered 
"  Mademoiselle?"  a  nudge,  and  an  interrogative 
jerk  of  the  head  in  the  direction  of  the  tables. 
At  last  a  smart  young  man  from  some  neigh- 
bouring    country    town    advanced    with    great 


COMMITTEE — SHE     BADE     THE 
N    A    CLEVER   SPEECH. 

Photo. 


3* 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


formality,  and  with  a  clicking  of  his  heels  and  a 
flourish  of  the  hat  begged  mademoiselle  to  do 
him  the  honour  of  taking  coffee  with  him. 
Realizing  all  that  accepting  his  invitation  might 
imply,  I  demurred,  but  his  insistence,  a  spice  of 
mischief  born  of  the  holiday  feeling,  as  well  as 
my  practice  of  joining  in  everything  so  as  to  get 
all  possible  "  local  colour,"  made  me  change  my 
mind,  and,  with  a  smile  in  my  sleeve  at  the 
thought  of  the  husband  left  at  home,  I  advanced 
to  take  my  place  with  the  rest.  It  must  be 
stated  that  earlier  in  the  afternoon  my  hostesses 
had    informed    me   that    my   arrival   had  been 


shop),  and  he  gave  me  many  terribly-involved 
English  phrases  to  unravel,  but  at  last  he  sank 
back  into  comfortable  French. 

He  was  good  enough  to  say  he  had  noticed 
me  the  instant  he  arrived,  and  that  he  liked 
"  high-class "  people.  He  hazarded  a  guess 
that  I  was  perhaps  at  the  head  of  some  business, 
or  perchance  maid  to  some  lady  of  title.  The 
man  was  evidently  seriously  looking  for  a  wife, 
and  I  grew  rather  anxious  about  the  end  of  the 
adventure.  With  great  volubility  he  pointed 
out  that  he  was  a  "joli  garcon,"  taking  off  his 
hat  that  I   might  admire   his  curly  locks  and 


From  a] 


THE        BACHELORS     BANQUET       IN   FULL   SWING. 


[Photo. 


viewed  with  great  disfavour  by  the  girls,  who 
saw  a  possible  advantage  in  my  town-cut  clothes 
and  the  fact  that  I  wore  a  hat,  which  they  did 
not.  Being,  however,  already  provided  with 
admirers  themselves,  they  could  now  afford  to 
be  generous,  and  my  appearance  as  a  candidate 
for  coffee  and  matrimonial  honours  was  greeted 
with  a  perfect  salvo  of  applause.  Some  of  the 
girls  had  even  two  cavaliers,  who  kept  up  a  cross- 
fire of  sweet  nothings,  each  trying  to  cut  the 
other  out,  and  glaring  savagely  at  one  another 
meanwhile. 

It  was  with  much  amusement  that  I  settled 
down  to  conversation,  coffee,  and  my  new 
conquest.  Oddly  enough,  he  knew  a  few  words 
of  English  (I  suspect  he  was  employed  in  some 


dark  eyes.  He  told  me,  moreover,  that  his 
position  in  life  was  "  tres  bon,"  and  that  he 
was  of  a  saving  disposition.  All  the  time  he 
was  artfully  trying  to  resolve  that  burning  ques- 
tion for  Continental  suitors— my  "dot"  or 
dowry.  He  told  me  he  had  a  mother,  and 
that  she  had  intended  coming  with  him  to 
look  out  a  partner  for  him,  but  was  prevented 
by  illness.  She  would  live  with  him  after 
marriage,  he  said,  and  would  welcome  and  love 
her  daughter-in-law.  But  there  was  a  shadow 
across  his  eyes  as  he  spoke  that  made  me  doubt 
whether  a  stranger  daughter-in-law  would  have 
quite  a  good  time  with  his  estimable  mamma. 
As  an  excuse  for  his  want  of  conventionality  in 
seeking  a  wife  at  Ecaussines  he  said  that  it  was 


THE    "BACHELORS'    BANQUET"    AT    ECAUSSINES. 


33 


often  in  these  out-of-the-way  places  that  one 
found  a  good  parti,  and  with  that  simple  egotism 
inherent  in  Belgians  confessed  that  having  an 
English  wife  would  make  him  very  "  chic  "  in 
his  social  circle.  But  he  always  hedged  behind 
the  remark,  "  Supposing  all  the  affaires  match 
well  ?  "  When  I  could  get  in  a  word,  beginning 
to  feel  very  nervous,  I  hesitatingly  told  him  I 
was  not  a  candidate  for  hymeneal  advancement, 
drawing  off  my  glove  so  that  he  should  see  my 
wedding-ring.  He  grew  extremely  angry,  told 
me  I  had  cheated  him  and  wasted  his  time,  and 
went  on  to  refer  to  the  Boer  War  and  "  perfide 
Albion." 

He  was  so  inclined  to  be  nasty  that  I  had  to 
remind  him  that  it  was  he  who  had  invited 
me  to  coffee,  and  that  I  had  not  taken  my  place 
alone  at  table  as  an  intimation  to  any  comer  that 
I  was  free.  Fortunately  a  diversion  occurred  in 
a  welcoming  speech  to  the  bachelors  present  from 
the  president,  made  in  a  voice  choking  with 
emotion.  It  was  very  cleverly  put  together, 
and  her  thanks  for  the  ready  response  of  the 
celibates  to  the  "spinsters'  call  for  succour" 
was  very  amusing.  An  excellent  reply  on  behalf 
of  the  bachelors  was  made  by  the  president  of 
the  Brussels  party,  who  reminded  his  hearers 
that  last  year's  fete  resulted  in  fourteen  weddings, 
adding,  amidst  terrific  applause,  "Go  thou  and 
do  likewise."  Both  he  and  the  lady  president 
were  presented  with  bouquets  and  exchanged 
the  kiss  of  friendship,  an  example  so  promptly 
followed  by  all  the  couples  that  I  was  glad  I 
had  lost  my  "  young  man  "  in  the  crowd.  A  girl 
with  the  voice  of  a  mouse  then  gave  a  love-song, 
and  many  ditties  on  the  tender  passion  followed. 
An  amusing  incident  was  the  speech  of  one  of 
those  bachelors  who  had  been  unable  to  find 
partners,  and  who,  bewailing  their  sad  fate, 
suggested  that  next  year  the  committee  should 
import  girls  enough  to  go  round.  With  a  duck 
of  the  head  in  my  direction  he  intimated  they 


would  be  glad  to  see  some  English  ladies. 
Before  I  left  I  learned  that  Ecaussines 
d'Enghien,  the  rival  village,  viewing  with 
dismay  the  stream  of  moneyed  visitors  that 
had  all  day  passed  her  by,  had  petitioned  to  be 
admitted  to  next  year's  festival,  the  girls  of  the 
villages  combining  to  give  the  coffee  and  cakes, 
the  feast  to  be  held  alternately  in  each  village. 
It  is  probable  that  in  time  the  whole  curious  affair 
will  lose  much  of  its  delightful  originality  and 
sincerity,  but  as  I  saw  it  it  was  simply  a  rustic 
festival  in  which  all  took  part  in  serious  earnest. 

An  open-air  ball  closed  the  proceedings. 
Everything  was  orderly  in  the  extreme  ;  there 
was  no  going  off  to  flirt  in  corners,  and  the 
love-making  was  all  done  under  the  eyes  of  the 
sympathetic  village.  As  a  study  of  country 
life  it  was  unique,  and  has  attracted  atten- 
tion all  over  the  world.  Letters  have  been  re- 
ceived from  bachelors  in  every  part  of  the 
globe  regretting  that  distance  prevented  their 
being  present.  Lonely  men  in  Australia  and 
America,  struck  with  the  courage  of  the  girls 
of  Ecaussines,  have  proposed  correspondence, 
but  this  the  village  Mrs.  Grundy  refuses  to 
permit. 

Applications  for  invitations  have  poured 
in,  and  twenty-five  young  men  wrote  a  very 
reproachful  joint  letter  at  the  last  minute,  com- 
plaining that  they  had  been  forgotten.  Another 
group  from  Grammont  submitted  not  only  the 
names  but  the  occupations  of  the  would-be 
Benedicts,  in  order  that  the  girls  might  choose 
before  they  came,  while  they  guaranteed  that 
they  were  handsome,  kind,  and  possessed  that 
mystic  power  of  "  chic."  Italian  lovers  wrote 
sheets  of  poetry  for  the  girls,  and  a  Frenchman 
in  despair  because  the  Fates  kept  him  at  home 
sent  a  very  cleverly-drawn-up  "  Litany  for 
Spinsters,"  in  which  each  line  bears  the  name  of 
a  saint  and  a  rhymed  prayer  for  matrimonial 
bliss,  warranted  infallible. 


wmm^wmm±^'m 


Vol.  xiv.-; 


THE  WIRETAPPERS.    A  Telegraph  Mystery. 

By  Walter  G.  Patterson. 

II. 

Mr.  Jack  Robb,   the  hero  of  this  exciting  story,  evidently  possesses  qualities  akin  to  those  of  Sherlock 
Holmes.     The  narrative  describes  how,  as  a  mere  lad,  he  constituted  himself  an   amateur  detective,  and 
went  to  work  to  unravel  a  most  perplexing  mystery,  which  had  completely  baffled  professional  investiga- 
tors.    He  made  some  startling  discoveries,  which  culminated  in  a  strange  and  tragic  fashion. 


EFORE  proceeding  further  with  my 
investigation  I  decided  to  take 
Broker  A's  private  operator  in 
Bradford,  a  man  named  John  Clark 
^one  of  the  most  reliable  of  the 
"old-timers"  of  that  day — into  my  confidence. 
I  thought  two  heads  would  now  be  better  than 
one,  and  I  knew  he  wasn't  mixed  up  in  any 
crooked  work  himself.  I  was  equally  sure  of 
the  men  in  the  Bradford  main  office.  Further- 
more, the  latter  could  not  possibly  be  in  the 
plot,  for  even  if  one  of  them  knew  the  meaning 
of  these  solitary  Morse  characters  which  were 
being  flashed  in  with  the  wire-trouble  rattle, 
or  for  whose  use  they  were  intended,  he  would 
not  be  able  to  communicate  them  so  quickly  to 
the  tricky  Broker  B  on  the  Exchange,  as  that 
building  was  six  blocks  away  from  the  main 
telegraph-office. 

Whatever  telegraph  man  it  was  who  had 
hired  himself  out  to  the  broker  to  help  the 
latter's  disreputable  work,  he  must  be  someone, 
I  was  satisfied,  who  hung  around  the  Exchange 
building,  or  inside  it,  within  hearing  of  the 
sounder  on  the  leased  wire  in  Broker  A's  office. 
He  must  also  be  in  close  touch  with  Broker  B. 

So,  a  few  minutes  before  the  opening  of 
business  on  the  "  floor "  on  the  third  morning 
of  my  freedom,  I  went  over  to  the  Oil  Exchange. 
I  found  Clark  in  Broker  A's  office  alone,  the 
broker  not  yet  having  arrived,  and  in  as  few 
words  as  possible  I  told  him  all  I  had  thus  far 
discovered.  He  was  greatly  surprised,  and, 
maybe,  a  little  put  out ;  for,  in  spite  of  his  being 
a  most  intelligent  man,  he  had  a  leaning  towards 
spiritualism,  and  I  think  he  either  believed  or 
wanted  to  believe  Broker  B's  claim  that  he  was 
getting  his  oil  "tips"  by  means -of  his  "tele- 
pathic gift,"  and  not  stealing  them. 

Nevertheless  my  evidence  convinced  him — it 
was  too  plain  a  case. 

Clark  had  seen  no  strange  operators  about 
the  building  or  office,  he  said,  nor  any  stranger 
at  all  that  he  recollected.  We  decided,  how- 
ever, to  watch  together.  I  intended  asking 
for  a  few  days'  holiday  the  next  morning  so 
as  to  start  down  the  railroad  line  to  see  what  I 
could  find,  but  I  decided  to  put  in  a  day  first 
with  Clark  on    a    still-hunt    for   the  dishonest 


telegraph  operator — just  to  find  out  for  certain 
who  he  was. 

After  Clark  and  I  had  talked  the  thing  over 
and  I  had  outlined  my  future  plans,  we  con- 
cluded it  would  be  interesting,  if  nothing  more, 
to  try  to  decipher  the  secret  code  that  was  con- 
tained in  the  detached  Morse  characters — if  it 
really  was  a  code.  I  had  been  devoting  some 
odd  minutes  to  this  same  effort  myself  during 
the  past  two  or  three  days,  but  had  met  with  no 
success.  I  had  pretty  nearly  decided  —  as  I 
found  afterward  was  correct — that  my  first  guess 
on  this  subject  was  the  right  one,  each  of  the 
alphabet  letters  or  numerals  standing  for  some 
prearranged  sentence — such  as  "  Big  strike  in 
Oil  City  district,"  "  Important  bull  news  from 
foreign  markets,"  or  some  one  of  the  twenty  or 
thirty  other  stock  items  of  information  that  were 
most  likely  to  influence  quotations.  These  few 
phrases  really  embodied  the  gist  of  the  private 
messages  sent  to  brokers  from  the  oil  districts. 

Clark  and  I  were  bending  down  over  the 
latter's  desk,  waiting  for  that  preliminary  "click" 
which  I  had  explained  to  him  always  ushered  in 
the  "  loaded  "  wire  trouble,  when  the  door  lead- 
ing into  the  vestibule  opened  and  the  man  who 
attended  to  cleaning  up  the  office  came  in.  I 
may  have  fancied  it,  but  I  thought  the  fellow 
when  he  saw  how  we  were  employed  gave  me  a 
peculiarly  sharp  look.  Johnny  and  I  each  had 
a  slip  of  paper  in  front  of  us  at  the  time,  intend- 
ing to  take  down  the  signal-letters  separately 
and  then  compare  them  to  make  sure  they  were 
no  idle  dream  and  that  we  both  heard  them 
alike. 

The  janitor  at  once  got  busy  with  his  feather 
duster,  and  just  then  there  came  the  rattle  on 
the  sounder  we  had  been  waiting  for,  and  I  forgot 
all  about  him.  So  engrossed  did  I  become  in 
picking  "X.Y.G.M."  out  of  the  innocent-sound- 
ing "  wire  trouble "  that  I  did  not  even  notice 
when  the  man  with  the  duster  left  the  room. 
He  was  gone  when  I  looked  up  from  the  paper. 
But  after  he  had  been  in  and  out  for  the  third 
time,  when  there  was  really  no  call  for  him  to  be 
in  the  office  at  all,  I  became  suddenly  suspicious. 
The  fellow  pretended,  to  be  sure,  that  he  was 
adjusting  the  window-shades  to  shut  out  the 
bright  morning  sunshine,  or  that  he  was  very  busy 


THE    WIRE -TAPPERS. 


35 


<» 


"just  then  there  came  the  rattle  on  the  sounder  we  had  been  waiting  for. 

about  some  other  trifling  job ;  but  he  seemed 
very  anxious,  I  noticed,  to  find  out  what  we 
two  were  doing.  Twice  he  stole  up  close  to 
the  telegraph-table,  pretending  to  look  into  the 
ink-well ;  but  I,  with  a  careless  movement, 
pushed  my  paper  face  down  over  Clark's.  For- 
tunately, neither  of  us  had  happened  to  say  any- 
thing on  the  previous  occasions  when  the  fellow 
was  in  the  room,  and  I  now  began  making 
remarks  to  my  companion  about  "my  column 
not  adding  up  the  same  as  he  made  it,"  trying 
to  make  it  look  as  though  we  were  busy  with 
figures.  The  ruse  succeeded,  for  the  janitor 
apparently  got  over  whatever  suspicions  he  had 
harboured  and  left  the  room.  He  came  into 
the  office  once  or  twice  later  on,  when  nothing 
was  doing  by  wire,  but  I  noticed  that  he  never 
missed  being  there  when  anything  was  doing. 

Clark  paid  no  attention  to  him,  and  neither 
did  Broker  A  when  he  arrived.  But  this  was 
not  so  much  to  be  wondered  at,  for  I  thought 
even  then  that  if  this  alleged  janitor  was  really  a 
disguised  telegraph  operator  he  was  certainly  a 
smooth  actor.  He  would  pass  anywhere  as 
just  an  ordinary  janitor  who  was  a  little  bit 
over-zealous  and  anxious  to  please,  unless  the 
person  who  saw  him  was  as  desperate  as  I  was 
at  the  time  to  account  for  a  certain  missing 
link   in    my   chain   of  evidence.      The  janitor 


would  just  fit  into 
the  breach. 

Finally,  Clark 
and  I  gave  up 
trying  to  discover 
the  meaning  of 
the  single  Morse 
letters.  We  de- 
cided there  was 
no  secret  code, 
but  that  each 
letter  was  just  an 
arbitrary  signal 
for  some  p  r  e  - 
arranged  phrase. 
When  we  were 
once  more  alone, 
partly  through 
wanting  to  get 
Clark's  opinion 
to  back  up  my 
own,  but  more 
particularly  be- 
cause I  was 
anxious  to  learn 
something  of  the 
history  of  this 
man  who  was  so 
handy  with  the 
feather  duster,  I 
turned  to  my  companion  and  asked  who  the 
janitor  was,  and  his  name. 

"  What,   him  ! "  answered  Clark,  looking   at 
me  curiously.     "  Fm  sure  I  don't  remember— 
Jones,  or  Robinson,  or  Smith,  or  some  common 
name  like  that.     He's  a  treasure,  though,  in  his 
way." 

"  How  long  has  he  been  here?  "  I  inquired. 
"  Oh,  he's  a  comparatively  new  comer  ;  been 
here  only  a  couple  of  weeks,"  replied  John. 
"He  has  two  other  offices  to  see  to  besides  this 
one ;  and  he's  busy  every  minute  looking  out 
for  things,  as  you  see  him  to-day." 

Then  seeing  a  little  smile  on  my  face,  as  if  I 
doubted  his  estimate  of  the  janitor,  Clark  asked 
what  I  meant;  what  had  so  interested  me  in  the 
man  ? 

"Oh,  nothing,"  I  responded,  looking  Clark  in 
the  eye ;  "  only  it  occurred  to  me  that  the  fellow 
must  be  a  pretty  clever  telegraph  operator  as 
well  as  a  janitor,  and  have  a  fairly  retentive 
memory  and  a  good  hearing  to  be  able  to 
catch  those  sandwiched-in  signal-letters  in  the 
way  he  does  while  he's  busy  dusting  that  radiator 
for  the  tenth  time  in  two  hours.  Then,  just 
fancy  his  being  able  to  carry  them  in  his  head 
across  the  hall  to  Broker  B's  office  without 
forgetting  any  of  them  !  It's  quite  a  feat,  John, 
for  just  a  broken-down  old  janitor,  as  this   man 


36 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


seems  to  be— all  but  his  eyes  !  It  bothered  even 
you  and  me  to  pick  the  letters  out  of  the  rattle 
while  we  sat  at  the  telegraph-table." 

Clark  stared  at  me  a  minute  with  wide  open 
eyes,  and  then  clapped  his  two  hands  down 
hard  on  his  knees  to  show  he  had  "  dropped  " 
to  the  trick,  or  agreed  with   my  guess  about  it. 


CLARK    CLAPPED    HIS   TWO    HANDS    DOWN    HAIID   ON    HIS    KNEES   TO    SHOW    HE    HAD       DROPPED 

TO   THE   TRICK." 


He  wanted  to  let  Broker  A  know  at  once  of 
what  he  called  "  our  clever  discovery,"  and  to 
have  the  janitor  taken  into  custody  instanter, 
before  he  should  have  time  to  do  any  more 
crooked  work.  John  was  generally  very  stolid 
and  cool-headed,  but  the  shock  of  my  unexpected 
revelation  had  excited  him. 

His  proposal  to  put  an  abrupt  termination  to 
the  pretended  janitor's  career,  however,  by  having 
him  arrested  did  not  coincide  with*  my  own 
personal  plans,  even  if  we  possessed  proof  of  the 
man's  guilt,  which  we  did  not.  Should  we  even 
actually  catch  the  janitor  red-handed,  I  impressed 
it  upon  John  that  we  must  pretend  not  to  notice 
it,  or  we  should  simply  be  warning  the  actual 
wire-tappers  that  we  were  after  them,  and,  as  I 
have  said,  I  wanted  to  capture  every  man  that 
had  a  hand  in  the  plot — especially  the  wire- 
tappers themselves. 

I  was  more  anxious  to  catch  those  fellows 
than  to  unmask  the  pretended  telepathist. 
Even  if  I  do  say  it  myself,  there  are  no  more 
honourable  craftsmen  on  earth,  as  a  rule,  than 


telegraph  operators,  although  they  have  in- 
numerable chances  to  steal  or  wrongfully  divert 
valuable  information,  or  to  betray  other  people's 
secrets.  So  when  a  dishonest  one  does  try  to 
do  business,  he  soon  finds  that  the  rest  of  the 
fraternity  are  after  him. 

It  wasn't  long  before  we  had  proof  enough  of 

the  fictitious  janitor  being 
in  the  plot,  as  I'll  show 
you. 

The  Oil  Exchange  was 
a  sort  of  arcade  building, 
all  open  from  the  floor  to 
the  roof,  business  being 
done  down  on  the  ground 
floor  or  "  pit,"  while  a 
short  story  up  was  a 
gallery  reaching  all  the 
way  around,  behind  the 
gallery  and  opening  on 
to  it  being  the  private 
offices.  There  was  a 
broad  stairway  at  each 
end  of  the  gallery  lead- 
ing down  into  the  "  pit." 
Broker  B's  office  was 
three  doors  away  from 
Broker  A's,  near  the 
south  stairway.  For  the 
janitor  to  pass  from  one 
office  to  the  other,  whis- 
per three  or  four  alpha- 
bet letters  to  Broker  B, 
and  give  that  rascal  time 
to  glance  at  his  prepared 
list  of  stock  phrases  and 
then  reach  Speculator  Griscom's  side  on  the 
floor  of  the  pit,  could  be  all  done  by  a  couple 
of  active  fellows  in  a  few  seconds. 

The  last  time  during  the  morning  session 
that  the  pretended  janitor  came  in  and  went  out 
again— this  time  to  come  over  near  the  table  to 
get  the  waste-paper  basket — I  stole  cautiously 
out  after  him,  leaving  the  door  ajar  behind  me 
and  treading  as  lightly  as  I  could  so  as  not  to 
attract  his  attention.  First,  however,  I  delibe- 
rately dipped  two  of  my  fingers  into  an  open 
ink-well  on  the  desk,  a  procedure  which  for  a 
moment  gave  my  stolid  companion  doubts  as  to 
my  sanity.  I  had  determined  to  satisfy  myself 
without  further  delay  as  to  the  accuracy  of  my 
suspicions,  and  I  had  thought  of  a  ruse  whereby 
'  this  might  be  settled.  Hence  the  ink  on  my 
fingers. 

The  janitor  made  a  bee-line  for  the  door  of 
the  "  mind-reader  "  broker  ;  and,  taking  long 
chances  of  arousing  the  suspicions  of  the  two 
confederates,  I  bolted  straight  in  at  the  same 
door,  right  at  the  janitor's  heels  ! 


THE    WIRE -TAPPERS. 


37 


DEI.1ISERATELY   DIPI'ED   TWO   OF    MV    FINGERS    INTO   AN 
OPEN    INK-WELL." 


I  was  in  time  to  hear  him  call  out  three 
alphabet  letters  in  a  sort  of  fierce  whisper  to  the 
only  other  occupant  of  the  room,  who  was,  of 
course,  Broker  B,  and  to  see  the  latter  make 
a  grab  for  some  slips  of  paper  in  a  pigeon-hole*; 
but  at  this  juncture  my 
unexpected  and  very 
abrupt  entrance  discon- 
certed them.  The  janitor 
faced  around  toward  me 
with  an  ugly  frown  on 
his  none  too  handsome 
face.  He  was  old  and  a 
trifle  shambling  in  his 
gait  and  generally  decrepit 
in  action  when  about  the 
building  ;  but  he  had  lost 
all  that  appearance  now. 
The  broker  himself  sprang 
excitedly  to  his  feet,  kick- 
ing over  a  chair  in  his 
hurry,  and  angrily  de- 
manded the  reason  for 
my  intrusion. 

I  made  haste  to  apolo- 


gize and  to  explain  that  I  had  simply  mistaken 
his  door  for  the  one  to  the  lavatory,  holding 
up  my  ink-stained  fingers  to  give  "colour"  to 
the  statement. 

I  think  both  of  them  believed  me,  because 
they  felt  sure  their  shrewd  scheme  was  too 
deeply  devised  for  a  mere  youngster  like 
myself  to  discover,  and  I   instantly  withdrew. 

I  was  well  pleased  with  myself  now  and  with 
my  day's  work  generally,  and  after  telling  Clark 
what  I  had  overheard  and  seen,  and  of  my 
reception  by  the  two  confederates,  which  of 
itself  looked  suspicious,  I  hastened  back  to 
the  main  telegraph-office  to  do  my  work  at 
"  dinner  relief."  I  was  wise  enough,  however, 
when  I  came  out  of  Broker  B's  office  to  go  into 
the  lavatory  next  door  and  make  all  the  noise, 
there  I  could  in  getting  the  ink  off  my  hands, 
for  the  sake  of  consistency. 

Now,  not  to  mention  the  minor  happenings 
during  the  rest  of  that  day,  I  will  tell  you  about 
my  trip  down  to  Foster's  Crossing  and  the 
exciting  adventure  I  had  after  I  got  there.  I 
started  away  at  once  the  next  morning,  directly 
Barrett  came  back,  as  I  had  found  out  all  I 
dared  look  for  in  Bradford  at  that  stage  of  the 
game ;  and  I  was  afraid  that  after  all  Broker  B 
and  his  janitor  friend  might  not  have  had  their 
suspicions  put  entirely  at  rest,  in  which  case 
any  further  delay  upon  my  part  in  striking 
would  be  dangerous. 

John  Clark  was  very  anxious  to  go  with  me 
down  the  line ;  partly  for  the  sake  of  the 
adventure  I  was  likely  to  have  if  my  galvanic 
thief-indicator  test  proved  reliable  and  I  dis- 
covered the  location  of  the  wire-tappers  ;  but 
I  think  that  more  than  anything  he  was  afraid 


EAR   WHICH   JACK   ROBB    LOCATED   THE   WIRE-TAPPERS.  [P/wtO. 


38 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


for  my  own  sake  of  the  risk  I  ran  of  stumbling 
upon  a  gang  of  dangerous  desperadoes,  and  he 
wanted  to  be  there  to  help  me.  He  was  a 
big  fellow,  was  John  ;  and  there  was  nothing  he 
was  afraid  of.  However,  he  couldn't  find  a 
substitute  and  so  was  unable  to  accompany  me. 

After  talking  it  all  over — for,  though  I  was  a 
little  excited  by  what  I  had  accomplished,  I 
knew  better  than  to  risk  being  caught  nosing 
around  alone  by  a  band  of  desperate  wire- 
tappers— we  decided  to  take  Broker  A  himself 
into  the  secret,  as  he  would  naturally  be  even 
more  anxious  than  Clark  was  to  land  the 
criminals  who  were  ruining  his  business. 

This  we  did  ;  and  the  first  thing  the  broker 
did  was  to  hand  me  a  clean  hundred-dollar  bill 
*"  for  having  more  brains,"  as  he  was  kind 
enough  to  say,  "  than  all  the  paid  sleuth-hounds 
in  the  State."  I  wasn't  inclined  to  take  his 
money  at  first  on  account  of  a  certain  youthful 
pride,  which  I  should  call  rank  foolishness 
nowadays  ;  but  when  he  said  that  it  was  for 
expenses,  and  that  my  actions  might  result  in 
saving  him  several  hundred  dollars  daily  in 
commissions  if  everything  came  out  right  in  my 
programme— and  he  was  enthusiastic  in  believing 
it  would — why,  I  pocketed  the  pride  and  the 
hundred-dollar  bank-note  together. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  Broker  B's 
coups  had  continued 
to  be  worked  all  this 
time — several  times 
in  each  day — with- 
out their  occasioning 
more  than  passing 
attention  on  the  floor 
of  the  Oil  Exchange. 
They  had,  on  the 
contrary,  been  the 
cause  of  no  little 
adverse  comment 
among  the  members 
and  the  remaining 
brokers,  who  treated 
broker  B's  occult 
claims  with  con- 
tempt, and  his  re- 
peated appearance 
on  the  floor  with 
advance  information 
— which  now  prac- 
tically everybody 
believed  he  had 
stolen,  though  no- 
body could  imagine 
how — had  even  given 
rise  to  a  number  of 
exciting  scenes, 
amounting   once   or 


twice  to  personal  encounters.  Poor  Broker  A 
had  been  fast  getting  more  and  more  discouraged 
owing  to  the  large  amount  of  business  he  had 
lost  through  his  rival's  crooked  work,  to  say 
nothing  of  his  ambitions  of  a  tenderer  nature, 
and  this  feeling  was  aggravated  by  the  unfor- 
tunate man  realizing  how  absolutely  helpless  he 
seemed  to  be  to  prove  anything. 

Broker  A  was  something  of  an  athlete — a 
brave  man,  like  John  Clark.  He  figured  later 
in  life  as  the  hero  in  a  noted  "  Molly  Maguire  " 
attack,  which  will  serve  to  identify  him  to  many 
old  Pennsylvanians.  He  is  still  living,  and 
perhaps  might  not  wish  me  to  call  him  by  his 
proper  name  in  connection  with  this  experience 
of  his,  although  there  was  never  anything  but 
what  was  creditable  in  his  share  in  the 
adventure. 

Leaving  Bradford  at  eight  o'clock  the  follow- 
ing morning,  the  broker  and  I  arrived  at 
Foster's  Crossing  an  hour  later.  We  had 
brought  fishing-tackle  with  us  as  a  pretext  for 
our  trip  to  the  little  town,  which  was  seldom 
visited  by  anyone  save  an  occasional  lightning- 
rod  agent  or  the  representative  of  some  agricul- 
tural implement  concern,  but  which  was, 
fortunately  for  us,  surrounded  by  trout  brooks. 

In  spite  of  the  early  hour  there  were  the 
usual  number  of  idlers  at  the  little,  single-roomed 


THERE   WERE   THE    USUAL    NUMBER    OP    IDLERS   AT   THE   LITTLE,    SINGLE-ROOMED    STATION." 


THE    WIRE -TAPPERS. 


39 


station  building  when  we  jumped  off  upon  the 
ground  (the  place  boasted  no  platform),  and  our 
first  care  was  to  make  inquiry  as  to  the  location 
of  the  likeliest  trout  streams.  We  had  a  good 
look  about  the  little  shanty,  to  make  certain 
that  the  rascals  we  were  in  quest  of  were  not 
foolhardy  enough  to  be  conducting  their  crooked 
work  in  it ;  although  upon  reflection  I  hadn't 
the  least  idea  that  they  would  be. 

We  found  nothing  in  the  building  but  a 
dilapidated  settee  and  a  couple  of  chairs  which 
had  long  since  passed  the  useful  stage ;  and 
after  a  few  apparently  careless  inquiries  of  the 
natives  as  to  other  strangers  having  been  at  the 
Crossing  during  the  past  week  or  two,  pretending 
that  we  anticipated  meeting  friends  who  were 
holiday-making  in  the  neighbourhood,  we  struck 
back  up  the  railroad  track  toward  the  long 
bridge,  where  we  were  told  we  would  find  good 
fishing  in  the  river.  Several  other  localities 
were  suggested  to  us,  but  it  was  back  towards 
Bradford  that  we  wished  to  go.  A  careful 
verbal  inventory  of  the  few  buildings  at  the 
Crossing,  their  occupants  and  uses,  which  we 
drew  from  our  good-natured  advisers,  made  it 
evident,  as  I  had  also  already  decided,  that 
none  of  them  sheltered  the  wire-tappers. 

The  galvanometer  had  plainly  indicated 
twenty-seven  miles  from  Bradford  as  being  the 
spot  where  the  temporary  "  grounds  "  came  into 
the  leased  wire ;  so  that  if  the  distances  shown 
on  the  time-cards  were  anywhere  near  correct, 
the  base  of  operations  must  surely  be  up  the 
track.  I  had  gone  to  the  trouble  of  repeatedly 
verifying  the  galvanometer  test  after  the  first 
test  was  made,  so  felt  confident  that  we  would 
make  a  startling  discovery  about  a  mile  and  a 
half  northward  from  Foster's  Station.  Exactly 
what  this  would  be,  what  sort  of  a  shelter  the 
fellows  would  have  to  work  in,  I  had  not  the 
remotest  idea. 

When  we  found  out  finally  as  to  these  points 
—who,  what,  and  where  the  wire-tappers  were, 
and  how  concealed — it  surprised  us. 

The  bridge  we  had  been  directed  to  was 
distant  a  mile  up  the  track.  We  gave  it  a 
chorough  overhauling,  searching  underneath  it 
and  all  about  it  without  discovering  anything 
we  were  looking  for.  Then  we  went  on  beyond 
it  for  fully  another  two  miles  in  the  direction  of 
Bradford. 

Not  a  single  evidence  of  human  presence  or 
habitation,  temporary  or  otherwise,  did  we  find 
upon  either  side  of  the  track,  save  the  shanty  of 
a  track-walker — who  was  naturally  beyond  sus- 
picion— and  a  gipsy  tent  off  at  one  side  of  the 
railway  in  an  open  field,  quite  two  hundred  feet 
from  the  line  of  rails.  We  looked  suspiciously 
at  this  tent ;  but  when  a  big,  brawny  Romany, 


evil-faced  and  unmistakably  genuine,  even  to  the 
rings  in  his  ears,  lifted  the  tent-flap  and  leered 
across  at  us,  and  then  turned  and  seemed  to  be 
speaking  to  other  members  of  his  band  inside 
the  tent,  it  seemed  even  less  probable  that  the 
tent  sheltered  the  particular  sort  of  rascals  we 
were  in  search  of  than  in  the  case  of  the  track- 
walker's shanty.  Furthermore,  a  close  scrutiny 
of  the  telegraph-wires  in  the  vicinity  failed  to 
show  the  least  evidence  of  even  a  partially  con- 
cealed side-connection  with  the  tent.  This  would, 
of  course,  have  been  essential  to  any  wire-tapping 
scheme. 

Having  discovered  absolutely  nothing,  we 
prepared  to  walk  back  toward  the  little  station, 
both  of  us  beginning  now  to  feel  discouraged 
because  of  the  total  failure  of  our  search.  I 
had  felt  positive  up  to  this  time  that  my 
detective  work  was  to  reach  a  quick  triumph  as 
soon  as  I  came  where  the  little  instrument  had 
told  me  I  must  look  for  the  guilty  men.  But 
here  I  was,  and  the  broker  with  me,  and  we 
might  just  as  well  have  been  in  Bombay  for  all 
the  wire-trappers  we  had  caught. 

There  is,  however,  an  old  saying  to  the  effect 
that  "  Things  are  not  always  what  they  seem." 
I  never  saw  this  more  clearly  substantiated  than 
in  regard  to  these  same  dusky-browed  Romany 
Ryes  and  their  little  cloth  tent. 

What  impelled  me  I  don't  know,  but  I 
suddenly  resolved  to  climb  the  right-of-way 
fence  which  stood  between  us  and  the  gipsy 
tent,  and  strike  out  across  the  field  in  its  direc- 
tion. An  irresistible  conviction  swept  over  my 
mind,  for  which  I  can  in  no  way  account,  that  I 
was  going  to  find  what  I  was  in  search  of  in  that 
tent — and  it  was  fortunate  for  my  reputation  as  an 
amateur  detective  that  I  yielded  to  it.  My  com- 
panion followed  close  behind  me,  half  protesting, 
yet  eager  to  leave  no  stone  unturned  in  our 
search  which  promised  tangible  results,  even 
remotely. 

The  same  villainous-faced  gipsy  whom  we 
had  first  seen,  but  who  had  gone  back  into  the 
tent  when  he  saw  us  apparently  moving  away 
from  the  vicinity,  came  rushing  through  the 
narrow  opening  in  front  of  his  cloth  house  as  we 
were  within  a  dozen  paces  of  it,  waving  his  arms 
excitedly  about  his  head  and  calling  out  a  lot  of 
unintelligible  gibberish  in  what  I  took  to  be  one 
of  the  Romany  dialects,  evidently  trying  to  warn 
us  away ;  and  then,  to  our  deep  consternation, 
we  caught  the  alarming  words  "small-pox," 
delivered  in  emphatically  good  English,  the 
fellow  at  the  same  instant  directing  our  gaze 
toward  a  small  yellow  flag  which  hung  down 
over  the  tent  entrance — a  faded,  dirty-looking 
rag,  which  had  entirely  escaped  our  attention 
until  then. 


40 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


We  made  haste,  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to 
state,  to  wheel  about  and  head  back  toward  the 
fence,  when,  all  at  once,  I  heard  a  sound 
coming  from  inside  the  tent  which  made  my 
pulse  jump. 

My  broker  com- 
panion was  in  the 
lead  in  our  race  out 
of  the  infected  area  ; 
he  had  been  behind 
me  in  our  approach, 
and  he  did  not  hear 
the  muffled  "click" 
which  conveyed  the 
information  to  my 
delighted,  though 
startled,  senses,  that 
that  which  we  had 
so  anxiously  searched 
for  was  found.  The 
wire-tappers  were  in 
that  tent  !  By  the 
same  token  the  accu- 
racy of  the  mechani- 
cal little  thief- indi- 
cator which  had  told 
me  where  I  must 
search  was  vindi- 
cated. 

I  said  nothing  to 
the  broker  of  my 
discovery  until  we 
were  some  distance 
down  the  track  once 
more,  for  fear  that  in 
his  surprise  he  should 
do  something  which 
would  let  the  occu- 
pants of  the  tent,  who 
would  undoubtedly 
be  watching  us,  know 
that  they  were  found 

out.  I  wanted  time  to  reflect  as  to  the  best 
course  to  pursue.  We  were  only  two,  although 
both  armed,  and  there  might  be  three  or  four 
men  in  the  tent,  also  armed,  which  would  make 
it  dangerous  to  undertake  capturing  them  un- 
assisted. 

We  therefore  hurried  back  to  the  crossing, 
and  as  a  matter  of  precaution  got  a  pair  of  lusty 
young  farm-hands  to  return  with  us  in  our 
descent  upon  thegipsycamp  After  a  prettysavage 
scrimmage  for  a  very  few  minutes,  in  which  one 
of  the  farmers  got  a  bullet  through  the  palm  of 
his  left  hand,  and  several  other  participants  in 
the  scrimmage  got  bruised  more  or  less,  we 
finally  landed  two  genuine  and  two  make-believe 
gipsies,  a  couple  of  box-relays,  a  lot  of  wire, 
and   some   other   telegraph    paraphernalia,    our 


l  III      FELLOW    AT   TDK    SAME    INST 
SMALL  YELLOW    FLAG  WHICH    HUM 


most  important  find,  however,  being  two  little 
memo -books  containing  the  stock  phrases  1 
have  mentioned,  and  the  key  for  applying  the 
Morse  letters  to  them,  all  in  what  was  afterwards 

proved  to  be  Broker 
B's  handwriting  —  a 
bit  of  careless  work 
on  his  part.  The 
two  disguised  men  in 
the  pretended  small- 
pox  tent  were  a 
couple  of  "tramp 
operators,"  who  were 
hardly  worth  the 
trouble  I  had  taken 
in  my  desire  to 
expose  dishonest 
telegraphists,  for  they 
had  no  reputation  to 
lose  by  being  caught. 
These  two,  seeing 
the  game  was  up, 
told  all  they  knew 
about  the  affair. 
Their  statement,  of 
course,  implicated 
their  chief,  the  Brad- 
ford broker,  the  pre- 
tended janitor,  and 
another  broker.  Our 
captives  even  showed 
us  the  clever  way  in 
which  they  had 
tapped  the  wire — a 
job  so  neatly  exe- 
cuted as  to  be  in- 
visible save  on  very 
close  inspection.  A 
loop  of  small -sized 
copper  wire,  insulated 
in  black  waterproof- 
ing, was  fastened 
down  a  crack  in  the  side  of  the  pole  where  the 
mam  wire  had  been  cut  on  one  of  the  "glasses." 
The  wire  was  then  brought  across,  a  couple  of 
inches  underground,  to  the  inside  of  the  tent. 
They  kept  a  "  box-relay "  on  each  side  of  the 
loop,  fastening  the  ends  of  the  loop  together  and 
letting  the  main  line  work  through  it  when  they 
wanted  to  "  cut  out."  This  and  a  couple  of 
temporary  "ground"  arrangements  comprised 
the  entire  working  plant.  These  technicalities 
may  sound  somewhat  mystifying  to  the  un- 
initiated, but  any  practical  telegraph  operator 
will  understand  the  ingenuity  of  the  scheme. 

My  detective  work  ended  the  precious  plot 
and  put  things  on  the  floor  of  the  Exchange 
back  on  a  business  basis — but  that  is  all.  It 
was  found  that  there  was  no  law  by  which  the 


A\T   DIRECTING    OUR   GAZB    TOWARD   A 
DOWN   OVER   THK  TENT  ENTRANCE." 


THE    WIRE -TAPPERS. 


4i 


A    PRETTY   SAVAGE    SCRIMMAGE. 


wire-tappers  could  be  held,  and,  incredible  as  it 
may  sound,  they  and  the  guilty  janitor  got  off 
scot  free  ! 

This  was  all  I  accomplished  from  a  practical 
point  of  view. 

There  was  one  other  indirect  outcome  of  my 
helping  to  unmask  the  dishonest  broker,  for 
which  I  disclaim  responsibility.  When  he  found 
that  everything  was  known  and  that  he  was 
himself  irretrievably  disgraced  and  would  be 
thrown  ignominiously  out  of  the  Exchange — 
which  also,  of  course,  ended  his  chances  for 
ever  both  with  Mr.  Griscom  and  with  his 
daughter — the  desperate  Broker  B  locked  him- 


self in  his  office  and  put  a  bullet  into  his  brain. 
The  first  inkling  the  fictitious  janitor  had 
that  things  had  gone  awry  with  the  plot  was 
when  he  let  himself  into  Broker  B's  office  after 
business  hours  that  day  with  a  pass  key  and 
found  his  late  employer  sitting  dead  in  his  chair 
with  a  pistol  in  his  hand. 

But  the  janitor  remained  a  consistent 
villain  to  the  very  last.  Instead  of  announcing 
his  discovery  he  deliberately  gathered  up  all  the 
money  he  could  find  and  took  the  first  train  to 
Buffalo,  close  to  the  Canadian  border,  where  he 
was  safe  from  possible  pursuit.  And  so  ended 
the  great  wire-tapping  mystery. 


Vol.  xiv.— 6. 


A  "Bit  of  Old  China. 

By  Admiral  T.  Moresby. 

The  gallant  Admiral  here  tells  an  amusing  story  of  the  old  days  of  the  service,  when  naval  officers 
on  remote  stations  frequently  had  to  decide,  almost  at  a  moment's  notice,  nice  questions  which 
might    involve    their    country    in    warfare.      Admiral   Moresby's   account   of  the   affair   at   Tamsui 

will  be  read  with  particular  interest  just  now. 


NE  tropica!  morning,  forty-three 
years  ago,  H.M.S.  Snake,  under  my 
command,  was  swinging  lazily  at  her 
anchor  in  Hong-Kong  harbour,  the 
officer  of  the  watch  having  nothing 
better  to  do  than  to  see  that  none  of  the  big- 
eyed  junks,  drifting  about,  came  near  enough 
to  spoil  her  beauty — for  beautiful  she  was — 
a  despatch  gun  -  vessel  of  five  hundred  tons, 
shapely  in  her  lines,  heavily  armed,  and  swift 
under  steam  or  sail. 

The  awnings  were  close 
drawn  and  life  seemed 
stagnant.  The  lofty  peak 
of  Mount  Victoria  was 
trembling  in  the  hot  shim- 
mer of  the  air,  the  sea 
dazzling  with  its  dipping 
sparkles.  A  glance  to  sea- 
ward, however,  showed  a 
dark  purple  line,  flecked 
with  wtiite  foam.  The  sea 
breeze  was  rippling  in  with 
coolness  on  its  wings,  and 
all  came  on  deck  to  wel- 
come it.  As  herald  in  its 
front  was  a  big  schooner, 
flying  [ardine's  house  flag, 
and  evidently  one  of  their 
opium  clippers.  With  main- 
sail and  jib  boomed  out 
she  almost  outran  the 
breeze  and  came  to  an 
anchor  near  the  senior 
naval  officer's  ship,  instead 
of  off  J  ardine's  Wharf  as 
usual. 

"  Something  up,  sir  !  It  is  the  Spray,  and 
her  skipper  is  a  rum  one,"  was  the  first 
lieutenant's  comment  as  we  saw  a  boat  from 
the  schooner  making  for  the  man-of-war,  and 
then  he  turned  to  his  work  and  I  to  mine,  under 
the  mouth  of  a  big  windsail  in  my  cabin. 

flags  broke  out  at  the  senior  officer's  mast- 
head, my  signal  to  repair  on  board.  Something 
was  up,  then. 

In  a  few  minutes  I  was  in  the  presence  of  my 


chief,  who  was.  not  unaccompanied.  On  the 
cabin  sofa,  pale  and  a  wreck  of  his  former  self, 
lay  the  Irish  skipper  of  the  Spray,  the  most 
daring  and  unscrupulous  of  opium  traders, 
known  all  over  the  China  coast  as  "  King  Tom," 
from  the  unusual  circumstance  of  his  descent 
from  the  ancient  Royalty  of  his  country.  He 
was  a  battered  enough  scion  of  his  race,  as  I 
saw  when  we  shook  hands,  though  the  fun  was 
still  alive  in  the  dark  Irish  eyes,  the  fun   which 

carries  an  Irishman  through 
many  tight  places  and 
makes  one  certain  that 
Mark  Tapley  hailed  from 
the  Four  Provinces, 
although  Dickens  fails  to 
mention  the  fact. 

"  Will  you  kindly  cast 
an  eye  on  me,  captain  ? " 
said  "  King  Tom."  "  These 
Chinese  beggars  have 
nearly  done  for  me,  but 
I'll  be  even  with  them 
yet." 

"  It  seems  more  likely 
to  be  your  job  at  present, 
Moresby,"  said  my  chief, 
with  a  shrug  of  his  shoul- 
ders, as  I  looked  from  one 
to  the  other  for  enlighten- 
ment ;  "  for,  so  far  as  I 
can  see,  you  must  be  off 
to  Tamsui,  the  principal 
northern  port  of  Formosa, 
without  loss  of  time  and 
settle  this  business  ;  and  a 
pretty  tangle  it  is  !  Give 
us  the  particulars  again,  Captain  O'Donovan." 

Down  I  sat,  all  attention,  as  "King  Tom's" 
story  gradually  unfolded  itself. 

Six  months  before  he  had  run  a  cargo  of 
opium  to  Tamsui,  and  there,  with  the  co-opera- 
tion of  the  Taotai  (Chinese  Governor),  Gow  by 
name,  had  disposed  of  it— a  strictly  illegal  pro- 
ceeding, Tamsui  not  being  one  of  the  treaty 
ports,  which  alone  were  open  to  the  opium 
traffic.     If  the  Taotai   had  done   his   duty   he 


MuKKMlV. 


|  Photo. 


A    BIT    OF    OLD    CHINA. 


43 


would  have  seized  the  Spray  and  confiscated 
her  cargo,  and  it  is  possible  that  duty  would 
have  carried  the  day  but  for  two  unanswerable 
arguments. 

Firstly  there  was  the  solid  profit  he  would 
make  on  the  transaction,  and  secondly  the  long 
eighteen-pounder  which  the  Spray  carried  on 
a  swivel  amidships,  and  which  he  well  knew 
"  King  Tom  "  would  not  hesitate  to  use  in  case 
of  need.  Inclination,  therefore,  reinforced  by 
a  long  eighteen-pounder,  was  too  much  for  duty, 
and  the  transaction  was  completed  to  the  satis- 
faction of  all  con- 
cerned. So  far  so 
good,  and  "  King 
Tom,"  like  the 
excellent  man  of 
business  he  was, 
proceeded  to  a 
further  deal.  He 
bargained  with 
one  Wang  Lo  for 
a  cargo  of  cam- 
phor, to  be  ready 
for  shipment  on 
his  return  in  four 
months'  time. 
Then,  calling  the 
Taotai  as  a  wit- 
ness, he  paid  to 
the  aforesaid.Wang 
Lo  a  deposit  of 
seventeen  hun- 
dred dollars,  and 
took  his  departure 
in  perfect  content- 
ment of  mind. 

At  the  time 
appointed  the 
Spray  returned, 
but  no  camphor 
was  forthcoming 
— Wang  Lo  hav- 
ing received  and 
accepted  a  better 
offer  in  her  ab- 
sence. Still  worse  was  behind.  By  a  singular 
lapse  of  memory  the  heathen  Chinee  was 
unable  to  recall  any  circumstance  connected 
with  the  deposit  money,  and  insult  was  added 
to  injury  when  old  Gow,  the  Taotai,  on  being 
appealed  to,  proved  to  be  equally  oblivious  ! 
They  bowed,  they  met  "  King  Tom's  "  fury  with 
the  most  polished  Oriental  courtesy,  but  nothing, 
they  feared,  could  alter  facts.  The  deposit 
money  had  never  been  paid  ! 

No  Irishman  could  stand  this  sort  of  thing, 
and  least  of  all  "King  Tom."  He  strode  off 
vowing  vengeance,    and  in  less  than    half    an 


"  HE    WAS    SEIZED    BY   THE   SOLDIERS. 


hour  the  Spray's  long  eighteen-pounder  was 
bearing  on  the  town,  and  the  Taotai  consider- 
ing the  alternative  of  Tamsui  being  blown 
about  his  ears  or  the  return  of  the  deposit 
money. 

Now,  it  was  true  there  was  a  small  fort  com- 
manding the  anchorage,  but  with  the  usual 
Chinese  foresight  neither  guns  nor  ammunition 
were  ready,  and  so  it  became  increasingly  clear 
to  old  Gow  that  here,  if  ever,  was  a  case  for 
diplomacy.  He,  therefore,  assured  his  quondam 
confederate,  in  his  blandest   manner,  that   the 

matter  had  been 
reconsidered,  and 
the  money  would 
await  his  coming 
at  the  Yamen  the 
next  day.  "  King 
Tom  "  should 
have  known  his 
man,  but  verdant 
as  his  own  native 
pastures  was  the 
innocence  which 
led  him  straight 
into  the  trap. 

All  night  the 
Chinese  worked 
silently  and 
swiftly  at  the  fort. 
When  morning 
broke  there  was 
no  change  in  its 
appearance  out- 
wardly, but  its 
guns  were  in  readi- 
ness to  sink  the 
Spray,  and  as 
Captain  O'Dono- 
van,  accompanied 
by  his  interpreter, 
took  his  undoubt- 
ing  way  to  the 
official  Yamen 
the  heavy  gates 
cllosed  behind 
him,  and  he  found  himself  confronted  by  the 
Taotai,  Wang  Lo,  and  a  mob  of  pig-tailed  soldiers 
— but  no  deposit  money.  Nevertheless,  he 
carried  himself  unflinchingly,  demanding  his 
rights  till,  at  a  sign  from  the  Taotai,  he  was 
seized  by  the  soldiers,  thrown  down,  and  bar- 
barously beaten  with  split  bamboos.  This  is 
one  of  the  cruellest  of  Chinese  tortures,  for  the 
concave  edges  of  the  bamboo  cut  into  the  flesh 
and  pound  it  to  a  pulp.  Then,  half  dead,  the 
unfortunate  skipper  was  thrown  into  a  sampan 
and  sent  off  to  the  Spray,  and  at  the  same 
moment  the  guns  of  the  fort  were  trained  on 


44 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


the  schooner.  The  chief  officer  saw  there  was 
nothing  for  it  but  to  be  off;  so,  with  rage  in 
his  heart,  he  made  sail  and  returned  to  Hong- 
Kong,  leaving  old  Gow  with  a  strengthened 
conviction  that  the  wisdom  of  the  "foreign 
devils "  was  as  folly  in  the  hands  of  the 
Celestials. 

This  was  the  tale  to  which  I  listened,  often 
interrupted  by  "  King  Tom's  "  maledictions  on 
his  own  simplicity  in  believing  a  single  word 
from  Oriental  lips.  "  I  hope  it  never  gets 
home,"  he  said.  "  I'd  never  hear  the  last  of  it 
in  County  Clare  !  It's  a  nice  schoolboy  I  am 
to  take  a  hiding  like  this  and  have  to  say  '  Thank 
you  '  for  it." 

The  details  of  the  outrage  were  officially  sub- 
mitted to  Admiral  Sir  James  Hope,  who  had 
just  arrived  after  having  relinquished  the  com- 
mand of  the  station  to  Admiral  Kuper.  This 
most  distinguished  officer  approved  of  the 
conclusions  we  had  come  to,  viz.  : — 

The  contraband  opium  trading  must  be 
ignored  in  view  of  an  international  assault  on  an 
unarmed  Englishman  by  the  Taotai  in  his 
official  Yamen.  I  was  to  investigate,  demand 
apologies,  and  inflict  a  fine  if  necessary  ;  but  as 
a  Vice-Consul  had  recently  been  appointed  to 
Tamsui  I  was,  in  the  event  of  his  arrival,  to  act 
in  conjunction  with  him.  "  And  I'll  give  a  turn 
to  the  screw  myself  later  on,  if  I  die  for  it," 
cried  the  undaunted  "  King  Tom "  from  his 
uneasy  sofa  as  the  council  broke  up. 

In  a  few  days  we  started  for  Tamsui,  the 
descendant  of  the  Irish  kings,  with  his  inter- 
preter, accompanying  us  to  give  evidence. 

As  we  cleared  the  Lyemoom  Pass  and  faced 
the  north-east  monsoon,  then  at  its  height,  the 
wind  howled  and  the  green  seas  swept  our  decks 
fore  and  aft,  but  below  we  had  fine  times,  for 
His  Majesty  "  King  Tom,"  with  a  comfortable 
glass  of  grog  by  his  side,  was  the  life  and  soul 
of  the  party,  telling  yarns  incredible  to  the 
amused  ring  of  smokers. 

Arriving  off  Tamsui  we  met  H.M.  gunboat 

Havock  with    Mr.  B ,  the  newly-appointed 

Vice-Consul,  on  board,  and  under  the  pilotage 
of  "  King  Tom  "  we  crossed  the  dangerous  bar 
together,  anchoring  off  what  was  then  a  small 
town,  but  since,  under  Japanese  occupation,  has 
swollen  to  a  big  city. 

Mr.   B being   junior   in    rank  came  on 

board  to  pay  his  respects.  He  was  a  well- 
informed  young  fellow,  educated  for  his  work 
and  speaking  Chinese  like  a  native.  A  valuable 
coadjutor,  as  I  thought ;  a  serious  hindrance,  as 
I  was  shortly  to  find. 

The  next  day  he  hoisted  his  flag  at  the 
Consulate  and  assumed  his  official  duties  ;  then, 
filled  with  youthful  zeal  for  his  newly-acquired 


position,  he  immediately  demanded  that  the 
whole  business  should  be  left  in  his  hands,  with 
the  force  I  commanded  at  his  disposal. 

Here  was  an  impasse  !  In  vain  did  I  point 
out  my  peremptory  orders  to  act  alone  or  in 
conjunction  with  him.  In  vain  did  I  offer  him 
the  presidential  chair  and  express  my  willingness 
to  sit  by  his  side  with  the  best  grace  possible. 
The  dignity  of  youth  is  unassailable  ;  he  would 
listen  to  no  compromise  whatever.  Thus, 
having  done  my  best  to  smooth  matters,  I  was 
not  sorry  to  take  the  undivided  responsibility. 

The  Taotai  was  sent  a  copy  of  the  charges 
preferred  against  him,  with  the  request  that  he 
and  his  witnesses  would  meet  me  at  the  Con- 
sulate, when  also  Captain  O'Donovan  and  his 
interpreter  would  be  present  and  a  formal  in- 
vestigation  made. 

There  was  no  small  stir  in  Tamsui  as  the 
Taotai  in  his  gilt  chair  of  state,  escorted  by  a 
body  of  spearmen,  passed  through  the  narrow 
streets  and  was  set  down  at  the  Consulate.  I 
sat  at  the  head  of  a  long  table,  with  the  con- 
tending parties  on  my  right  and  left,  a  guard  of 
stalwart  marines  being  drawn  up  in  the  Consular 

court.    Mr.  B kindly  consented  to  act  as  my 

interpreter,  but  refused  to  sit  at  the  table.  The 
wily  old  Gow  was  quick  to  perceive  the  bearing 
of  this  anomaly,  and  it  materially  affected  the 
result. 

The  Taotai's  case  was  that  "  King  Tom  "  had 
come  to  his  Yamen,  armed  with  a  large  knife 
and  brandishing  a  heavy  stick  in  close  proximity 
to  his  person,  and  that  gentle  restraint  and  the 
slight  correction  of  a  beating  were  a  means  of 
self-defence — regrettable,  but  necessary. 

An  excellent  story  indeed  if  there  had  not 
been  a  small  but  unadjustable  difference  of 
opinion  amongst  the  witnesses  he  produced. 

On  being  asked  why,  with  the  large  force  at 
his  disposal,  he  had  not  simply  arrested  the 
captain,  he  replied  that  "when  you  are 
dealing  with  devils  you  cannot  act  as  courtrsy 
dictates,  and  that  he  regretted  to  state  that  he 
believed  Captain  O'Donovan  to  be  a  devil  of 
the  yellowest  dye"  No  more  evidence  being 
forthcoming,  and  this  opinion  scarcely  bearing 
on  the  legal  aspect  of  the  case,  I  gave  my 
decision  in  the  following  terms  : — 

By  noon  on  the  following  day,  apologies  and 
twelve  hundred  dollars  from  the  Taotai  to  the 
triumphant  "  King  Tom,"  the  return  of  the 
deposit  money  (a  point  they  did  not  seriously 
contest),  or  enforcement  of  these  demands  by 
force. 

There  was  not  a  trace  of  feeling  in  Gow's 
imperturbable  face  as  my  judgment  was  given, 
not  a  movement  in  the  slender  "yellow  hands, 
with  their  silver-tipped  nails,  resting  on  his  violet 


A    BIT    OF    OLD    CHINA. 


I    SAT   AT   THE    HEAD   OF    A    LONG   TABLE,    WITH    THE   CONTENDING    PARTIES   ON    MY    RIGHT   AND    LEFT. 


robe.  He  bowed  the  .exact  number  of  times 
that  the  exactest  etiquette  in  the  world  requires 
as  the  C6urt  broke  up  ;  yet  without  a  word 
spoken  he  was  as  conscious  of  the  dissension 
between  the  Vice-Consul  and  myself  as  if  he 
had  been  present  at  our  meeting,  and  he  took 
his  measures  accordingly. 

When  we  returned  to  the  Snake  I  had  some 
difficulty  in  restraining  "  King  Tom's  "  exulta- 
tion ;  my  wisdom  was  exalted  above  King 
Solomon's,  my  valour  cast  that  of  Brian  Boru 
into  the  shade.  He  felt,  he  fingered  the  dollars 
in  his  pockets  and  that  they  came  from  Gow's 
was  the  sweetest  plaster  for  his  wounds  !  But  I 
think  I  never  saw  a  face  elongate  and  a  jaw  drop 
quite  so  low  as  did  his  when  we  woke  next 
morning  to  the  intelligence  that  Gow,  with  all 
the  officials  and  all  the  cash,  had  fled  to  the 

mountains,  and  that  Mr.  B ,  having  now  no 

locus  standi,  had  hauled  down  his  flag,  leaving 
the  whole  control  of  the  city  and  port  in  my 
hands ! 

"  King  Tom  "  might  swear — he  did,  and  very 
freely — but  that  was  no  help  to  me  in  this  bolt 
from  the  blue.  The  one  certain  matter  in  the 
midst  of  much  uncertainty  was  that  if  a  China- 
man could  govern  Tamsui,  so  also  could  an 
Englishman,  and  probably  much  better.  I  took 
this  course,  therefore,  and  appointed  Lieutenant- 
Commander  Packe,  of  the  gunboat  Havock, 
acting    Governor    and    Captain     of    the    Port. 


Never  was  a  man  more  genuinely  pleased  or 
better  fitted  for  the  post.  A  true  sailor  loves  a 
job  off  his  own  beat,  and  he  was  no  exception 
to  the  rule. 

Our  first  thought  was  the  Custom-house,  for 
there  were  several  European  ships,  besides 
junks,  loading  and  unloading ;  but,  happily,  we 
found  a  table  of  duties  and  port  dues,  so  their 
work  went  on  without  a  hitch,  and  the  skippers 
rejoiced  that  there  was  no  bribery  and  corrup- 
tion, as  there  had  been  with  Gow.  A  guard  of 
marines  was  landed,  and  the  citizens  submitted 
to  the  altered  regime  with  true  Chinese  in- 
difference. 

This  done,  the  Snake  sailed  for  Foochow,  the 
Viceroy  of  which  province  had  supreme  control 
over  the  Island  of  Formosa,  and  it  was  therefore 
necessary  that  he  should  adjudicate  on  Gow's 
recalcitrant  behaviour. 

After  various  delays  and  much  letter-writing 
the  skill  of  Mr.  Sinclair,  our  Consul  at  Foochow, 
arranged  a  meeting. 

It  was  a  stately  ceremony  when  the  Viceroy, 
gorgeous  in  yellow  jacket,  red  button,  and 
peacock  feather,  and  surrounded  by  his 
mandarins,  gave  us  audience  at  his  palace. 
Seated  on  a  dais  between  pillars  painted  with 
fiery  dragons  swallowing  impossible  seas,  he 
listened  sedately  whilst  Sinclair  stated  the  case 
in  fluent  Chinese.  I  followed  in  an  argument 
which,  perhaps  happily,  suffered  in  translation. 


46 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


Questions  were  asked,  the  mandarins  were 
gravely  consulted,  and  as  gravely  responded. 
The  decision  followed. 

My  demand  must  be  complied  with  ;  Gow 
was  degraded  and  superseded  on  condition  that 
the  matter  was  dropped  immediately  and  no 
reference   made  to   the    authorities   at    Pekin ! 


a  shock  when,  after  I  had  made  my  report,  the 
Admiral  angrily  denounced  the  whole  business. 
"As  for  Mr.  O'Donovan,"  he  said,  "that  man 
is  the  greatest  buccaneer  on  the  coast  !  He 
thoroughly  deserved  the  thrashing  he  got,  and  I 
only  regret  that  Her  Majesty's  ships  were  em- 
ployed in  any  way  for  him.  What  have  you  done 


SINCLAIR    STAI'KIl     1111      l.\sK    l\     hl.l'I'M'    CHINESE. 


With  high  ceremony  on  both  sides  I  received 
the  twelve  hundred  dollars,  and  then,  feeling 
very  satisfied  with  myself,  I  returned  to  Tamsui. 

There  I  found  Lieutenant  Packe  with  heaps 
of  dollars  in  his  possession,  progressive  trade, 
and  contented  subjects,  not  at  all  anxious  to 
resign  his  government  and  return  to  his  ten  feet 
by  five  cabin  in  the  Havock.  But  his  reign  was 
over ;  the  new  Taotai   was  installed,  and   Mr. 

B rehoisted  his  flag.     Poor  old  Gow  crept 

back  from  the  mountains,  Wang  Lo  refunded 
the  deposit  money,  and  the  old  order  being  thus 
restored  we  returned  to  Hong-Kong  to  receive 
the  approval  we  thought  due  to  our  consummate 
diplomacy. 

Alas  for  human  hopes  !  On  our  arrival  we 
found  our  new  Commander-in-Chief  present, 
with  his  flag  flying  on  board  H.M.S.  Euryalus, 
and  his  views  of  Sir  James  Hope's  interference 
unluckily  did  not  coincide  with  mine.  I  had 
felt  all  along  that  we  might  easily  have  had  a 
more  immaculate  protege  than  poor  "  King 
Tom,"  and  that  the  contraband  opium  trading 
might  wreck  us  yet;  but  still  it  was  undoubtedly 


with  the  dollars?"  Fortunately  I  had  not  handed 
them  over  to  "  King  Tom,"  so  I  answered  that 
they  wore  still  on  board  the  Snake,  waiting  for  his 
order  to  transfer  them  to  Captain  O'Donovan. 
"Very  well,"  said  the  Admiral.  "  Send  them  on 
board  my  flagship  ;  he  sha'n't  have  them  !  And 
let  him  know  that  he  may  consider  himself 
lucky  that  he  is  not  arrested  and  punished  as  a 
smuggler  !  The  cheek  of  coming  to  us  to  see 
him  through  ! " 

Here  was  a  pretty  communication  for  me  to 
make  to  "  King  Tom  !  "  He  had  quite  recovered 
his  buoyant  health  and  spirits,  however  ;  he  had 
had  a  very  enjoyable  cruise,  recovered  his 
deposit  money,  and  witnessed  the  downfall  of 
old  Gow. 

Nevertheless,  his  remarks  were  not  compli 
mentary  to  the  Admiral's  decision.  "  As  if  I 
cared  a  pig's  whistle,"  he  said,  "  for  the  blessed 
dollars  ;  if  I  had  them  in  my  hand  this  minute 
I'd  pitch  them  overboard  for  the  sake  of  half  an 
hour's  straight  talk  with  old  Gow.  I'll  have  it 
yet,  and  so  you  may  tell  the  Admiral." 

I   could  do  no  more,  and  all  hands  turned 


A    BIT    OF    OLD    CHINA. 


47 


up  to  say  "good-bye"  to  the  jovial,  light-hearted 
Irishman. 

A  few  days  later  the  Snake  sailed  for  England. 
I  had  not  yet,  however,  finished  with  the 
business. 

A  month  or  two  after,  when  I  was  still  on  half 
pay,  there  came  a  formidable  letter  from   the 

Admiralty,  enclosing  despatches  from  Mr.  B , 

the  Vice-Consul ;  Sir  F.  Bruce,  our  Minister  at 
Pekin  ;  and  Lord  John  Russell,  the  Minister  for 


ever,  I  stood  to  my  guns  and  wrote  to  Sir 
James  Hope,  who  was  now  in  England,  and  who, 
I  knew,  would  never  desert  a  brother  officer 
who  had  acted  under  his  advice.  He  was  not 
slow  to  respond,  and  together  we  fought  it  out 
with  the  Foreign  Office. 

Eventually  a  sop  was  thrown  by  the  Admiralty 
to  Lord  John,  who  was  gratified  with  the 
announcement  that  "  Commander  Moresby's 
zeal  had  outrun  the  strict  line  of  duty,"  but  I 


ILL    HAVE    IT   YET,    AND    SO    YOU    MAY   TELL   THE    ADMIRAL." 


Foreign  Affairs — all  containing  official  thunder 
directed  at  my  humble  self!  My  proceedings 
had  been  high-handed  and  contrary  to  my  duty ! 
I  might  have  seriously  jeopardized  my  country's 
interest  and  involved  the  nation  in  a  Chinese 
war !  Satisfaction,  therefore,  was  demanded 
from  the  Admiralty,  and  at  my  expense.     How- 


could  bear  this  mild  censure  exceedingly  well, 
in  view  of  the  fact  that  I  was  almost  immedi- 
ately offered  one  of  the  finest  commands  in 
the  service. 

I  never  saw  "  King  Tom  "  again,  but  I  have 
no  hesitation  in  asserting  that  somehow,  or 
somewhere,  he  did  cry  quits  with  old  Gow. 


A    Congregation    in    Ganoes. 

By  John  C.  Hodson. 

In  one  of  the  pretty  bays  of  the  Thousand  Isles  of  Canada  Nature  has  fashioned  for  man  an  open-air 
pulpit  under  the  canopy  of  Heaven,  from  which  on  Sunday  evenings  during  the  summer  season  a 
minister  preaches  to  a  congregation  of  people  in  canoes.  The  canoes  form  the  pews  of  this  remarkable 
natural  church,  the  reading-desk  is  a  boulder,  and  at  the  right  of  the  preacher  stands  a  baptismal  font 
hollowed   by  the  eddies  of  the  river,  for  centuries,  out  of  the  solid  rock. 


HERE  is  an  oddness  in  the  idea  of 
a  congregation  worshipping  in  canoes 
which  should  appeal  to  lovers  of  the 
picturesque,  and  should  not  offend 
those  who  cling  closely  to  the  rigid 
rules  of  form.  From  the  beginning  of  things 
•men  have  not  only  fought  over  differences  of 
creed,  but  have  also  discussed,  with  more  or 
less  acerbity,  the  various  methods  by  which 
religions  worship  should  be  conducted. 

If  the  form  of  a  religious  service  may,  in  these 
latter  days,  be  open  to  discussion,  the  place  for 
proper  preaching  is  everywhere,  and  the  manner 
in  which  people,  hungry  for  religious  instruction, 
attend  the  church  of  God — how  they  get  there 
and  what  they  wear— is  least  open  to  cavil. 
What  more  beautiful  could  there  be  than  that 
open-air  service  which  draws  hundreds  of 
ple.isure-seekers    and     summer    tourists    to    the 


pulpit  of  Nature  in  the  Thousand  Isles  ?  They 
might,  it  is  true,  go  to  an  adjacent  church  of  the 
conventional  pattern  clad  in  equally  conven- 
tional broadcloth,  but  they  prefer  to  come  by 
water,  more  comfortably  clad,  and  attend  service 
in  Nature's  own  church. 

Of  the  many  thousands  who  have  spent  a 
summer  amongst  the  Thousand  Isles  few  there 
are  who  have  not  heard  of  Half  Moon  Bay,  and 
fewer  who  have  not  tried  to  attend  at  some  time 
or  other  this  open-air  service  in  the  natural 
church.  For  those  who  have  never  known  the 
exquisite  beauty  of  this  region  it  is  enough  to 
say  that  Half  Moon  Bay  is  to  be  found  in  the 
Admiralty  group,  the  uppermost  cluster  of  the 
Thousand  Islands  formed  in  the  St.  Lawrence 
River  where,  at  Kingston,  it  receives  the  waters 
of  Lake  Ontario.  For  a  distance  of  thirty  or 
thirty-five  miles  from  the  mouth  the  river  con- 


THE    KNTIANCK    TO    HALF-MOON    BAY,    WHBRH    THE    NATURAL   CHURCH    IS   SITUATED. 

l<y  A.  B.  Munro. 


A    CONGREGATION    IN    CANOES 


49 


tinues  an  average  width  of  between  seven  and 
ten  miles,  and  in  this  crystal-clear  expanse  of 
water  the  innumerable  islands  dot,  as  far  as  eye 
can  see,  the  rapid  running  stream.  Bostwick, 
one  of  the  largest  of  this  group,  has  on  its  south 
side  a  little  bay  in  the  shape  of  a  half-moon, 
whence  the  place  takes  its  name.  This  little 
bay  is  surrounded  by  high  cliffs  of  Laurentian 
granite,  and  in  the  immediate  neighbourhood 
are  to  be  found  many  "pot-holes" — basin- 
shaped  cavities  in  the  rocks  which  have  been 
formed  by  stones  and  gravel  gyrated  by  eddies 
in  the  stream.     Some  of  these  are  about  one 


provided  both  church  and  pulpit.  He  who 
preaches  stands  conveniently  behind  this  rock 
and  uses  it  as  a  reading-desk,  for  it  is  just  the 
proper  height.  More  curious  than  all,  however, 
is  the  baptismal  font.  It  stands  at  the  right 
hand  of  the  reading-desk — a  "pot-hole," 
drilled  with  beautiful  symmetry  in  the  granite 
a  foot  wide  and  about  eighteen  inches  deep.  As 
if  to  put  the  finishing  touch  upon  her  labours, 
Nature  has  also  ordained  that  the  font  shall  be 
filled  with  water. 

The  idea  of  turning  this  natural  church  to 
practical  account  came,  some  twenty  years  ago, 


From  a\ 


A    CORNER   OF    THE    BAY. 


[Photo. 


foot  in  depth  and  width,  and  some  as  much  as 
seven  feet  in  width  and  ten  or  twelve  feet  in 
depth.  The  formation  is  quite  regular  and  the 
sides  are  worn  or  polished  as  if  excavated  and 
finished  by  the  hand  of  man. 

In  one  part  of  the  cliff  a  semi-circular  recess, 
with  an  almost  level  floor,  has  been  formed  by 
time,  as  if  Nature  had  bounteously  foreseen  the 
use  to  which  it  might  properly  be  put.  Not, 
however,  without  a  struggle,  for  at  some  time  in 
the  past  a  large  rock  has  been  tossed,  perhaps 
by  a  tempest,  from  the  cliff,  and  has  fallen  down 
only  to  lodge,  as  if  by  a  miracle,  on  the  outer 
edge  of  this  floor  of  stone.     Nature  has  thus 

Vol.  xiv.— 7. 


to  certain  summer  visitors  among  the  Thousand 
Isles.  Their  efforts  were  supported  with  hearti- 
ness by  laymen  and  clergy  alike.  Among  the 
originators  of  the  movement  were  Mr.  S.  Finlay, 
of  Montreal,  the  late  Rev.  Dr.  Cassells, 
Principal  of  the  McMaster  University  of  Toronto, 
and  the  late  Rev.  Dr.  Mowat,  of  Queen's 
University,  Kingston.  From  that  time  to  the 
present  the  weekly  service  has  been  continued, 
and  in  late  years  has  attracted  wide  attention. 
The  people  who  spend  their  holidays  on  the 
St.  Lawrence  are  peculiarly  interested  in 
these  religious  services,  although,  in  addition 
to  the  church  at  Half  Moon  Bay,  they  possess 


5° 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


many  places  of  worship.  On  Wellesley  Island  a 
spacious  tent  or  tabernacle,  erected  under  the 
auspices  of  the  Methodists  of  the  United  States, 
accommodates  nearly  three  thousand  people. 
Nine  miles  away  another  large  and  well-appointed 
church  at  Westminster  is  under  the  control  of 
the  Presbyterian  body.  In  these  places  care  is 
taken  to  afford  to  the  congregations  the  con- 
veniences and  accessories  familiar  to  them  at 
home,  and  the  service  in  each  church  proceeds 
with  regularity  along  a  chosen  line. 

Not  wholly  so  is  it  at  Half  Moon  Bay.     Here 
the   usual   accessories   are   absent.     The    con- 


nounced.  The  service  is  under  the  auspices  of 
no  particular  denomination,  the  leader  being  a 
clergyman  or  a  layman,  as  occasion  may  provide. 
The  hymns  sung  are  those  familiar  to  and  loved 
by  all  Christians,  and,  although  the  English 
Church  service  is  read  in  part,  the  service  of 
song  is  led  by  some  worshipper,  or  group  of 
worshippers,  in  the  canoes  around  the  pulpit. 
Sometimes  a  mandoline  or  a  guitar  tinkles  the 
accompaniment,  and  the  voices  of  the  floating 
throng  echo  sweetly  in  the  bay,  flung  back  by 
the  stately  cliffs  around.  The  Scriptures  are 
read,    prayer   is   offered,    and    then    follows    a 


From  a] 


CANOES    ASSEMBLING    KOK    THE    SERVICE. 


\Plwto. 


veniences  are  few  indeed  and  the  service  is 
unique,  brought  into  being  and  developed  by 
the  islanders  alone.  The  ivy-clad  trees  and 
the  jutting  rocks  are  the  decorations  of  the 
meeting-place,  and  every  kind  of  artificial 
adornment  is  scrupulously  avoided.  The  only 
covering  is  the  sky.  The  walls  of  the  temple 
are  the  granite  cliffs.  Nothing  is  used  in  the 
service  which  leaves  a  trace  behind  when 
the  meeting  is  over,  and  even  the  pews — 
the  motley  array  of  canoes,  skiffs,  and  launches 
of  varied  size  and  shape — disappear  into  the 
darkness  when  the  Benediction  has  been  pro- 


practical  evangelical  address  by  the  leader,  or 
some  competent  person  who  volunteers  for  this 
duty.  Recently  the  services  have  been  con- 
ducted by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Maggs,  principal  of 
the  Methodist  Theological  College  of  Montreal, 
more  frequently  than  by  any  other  preacher, 
and  with  great  acceptance  to  all  who  assembled. 
The  growth  of  the  congregation  has  kept  pace 
with  the  growth  of  interest  in  the  Thousand 
Isles  as  a  summer  resort,  and  four  or  five 
hundred  of  the  summer  colony  have  several 
times  attended  the  service.  From  some  of 
the  Canadian  towns  in  the  vicinity  of  the  bay 


A    CONGREGATION    IN    CANOES. 


5i 


From  a] 


THE    EVENING   SERVICE    IN    PROGRESS. 


{Photo. 


others  have  come  to  witness  the  sight  or  to 
worship  in  common  with  the  pleasure-seekers. 
The  average  attendance  is  about  two  hundred, 
and  the  craft  they  come  in  are  often  packed 
closely  on  the  bosom  of  the  bay.  The  puffing 
of  the  steam  launch  and  the  toot  of  the  whistle 
are  heard  before  the  service  begins,  as  the  canoes 
and  other  craft  shoot  their  way  from  all  parts 
across  the  surface  of  the  little  bay.  When  the 
service  begins  the  noise  of  the  congregation 
is  silenced,  and  the  prayer  is  uttered  in  a  still- 
ness made  deeply  impressive  by  the  singular 
beauty  and  surroundings  of  the  spot. 

No  service  is  held  in  the  morning,  for  those 
who  resort  to  this  group  of  islands  for  their 
summer  holiday  are  loyal  to  their  several 
churches,  and  regular  in  their  morning  attend- 
ance in  the  churches  of  their  choice  at 
Gananoque,  a  flourishing  town  on  the  Canadian 
side  of  the  river.  Here,  at  St.  Andrew's 
Church,  the  Rev.  H.  Gracey,  who  has  kindly 
supplied  much  of  the  material  for  this  article, 
has  preached  to  large  congregations  in  the 
morning  for  nearly  twenty-five  years.  In  the 
evening  many  of  the  parishioners  of  the  different 
churches  resort  with  others  to  Half  Moon  Bay, 


and  there  engage  in  a  form  of  worship  from 
which  sectarianism  is  absent,  paying  tribute,  not 
to  a  preacher  or  a  creed,  but  to  Nature's  God. 

The  sight  is  best  witnessed  on  a  calm  evening 
in  summer.  The  small  craft  begin  to  arrive 
early.  Before  the  sun  goes  down,  leaving  its 
long,  iridescent  reflection  on  the  water,  the  bay 
is  dotted  with  boats.  As  the  leader  advances 
to  his  granite  altar  the  heads  of  the  congrega* 
tion  are  bared,  and  the  preacher,  moved  by  his 
surroundings  and  the  simplicity  of  the  scene 
before  him,  gains  inspiration  for  his  coming 
words.  Well  might  he  take  as  his  text  the  well- 
known  words,  "  Heaven  is  the  dome  of  His 
cathedral,  the  world  its  walls,  and  the  globe  His 
altar  and  prayer-stool."  When  the  service  is 
over  and  the  inspiriting  melody  of  "  Onward, 
Christian  Soldiers,"  has  rung  across  the  limpid 
water,  the  Benediction  is  pronounced  and  the 
congregation  disperses  in  all  directions  in  the 
gathering  darkness,  taking  with  them  the  linger- 
ing and  echoing  burden  of  the  hymn.  Never 
was  Benediction  more  impressively  pronounced, 
never  music  more  effectively  sung,  than  that 
given  forth  at  these  remarkable  services  under 
the  eternal  rocks. 


Cast  Away  Among  the  Filipinos. 

By  David  Leitch. 
I. 

A   moving    story   of    shipwreck    and    captivity.       The  author   and   his   companions  were   shipwrecked 

in    the    Philippine    Islands,    and    fell    into  the  hands  of   the    insurgents,  who   treated    them    with    the 

utmost    cruelty.      In    this     instalment    Mr.     Leitch    describes    the    incidents    of     the    wreck    and    the 

adventures  of  the  hapless  castaways  after  landing  on  the  Island  of  Luzon. 


HEN,  from  the  comfort  and  kindli- 
ness and  security  of  my  island 
home  in  Orkney,  I  reflect  upon  the 
events  that  marked  my  terrible 
passage  from  Hong-Kong  to  the 
Island  of  Masingloc,  and  my  still  more  terrible 
journey  through  the  prison-houses  of  the 
Philippine  insurgents,  I  ask  myself  in  amaze- 
ment, not  so  much  "Can  these  things  be?"  as 
"Can  these  things  have  been?"  For  in  a 
few  months — I  had  almost  said  brief  months, 
though  they  were  charged  with  an  eternity  of 
pain  and  sorrow  and  suffering 
— there  were  crowded  into  my 
life  the  desolation  and  despair 
of  shipwreck,  and  the  helpless- 
ness and  hopelessness  of  im- 
prisonment among  a  people  who 
placed  small  value  on  any  human 
life  other  than  their  own.  Yet 
throughout  it  all  I  survived,  and 
am  spared  to  pen  this  account  of 
a  dreadful  experience,  while  the 
bones  of  several  of  my  unfortu- 
nate comrades  lie  for  ever  among 
the  inaccessible  mountains  of 
the  far-off  Philippines. 

It  all  came  about  in  this  way. 
While  in  the  employment  of 
the  Chinese  Customs  I  chanced 
across  an  Englishman  named 
Charles  Pears  and  an  American 
sea  captain  named  Elijah  Croker. 
Acquaintance  ripened  into  in- 
timacy, intimacy  into  business 
relations,  and  we  agreed  to  join  capital  and 
build  a  ship,  our  intention  being  to  trade 
between  Hong-Kong  and  the  Philippine  Islands. 
Our  plans  rapidly  matured,  the  vessel,  a  trim 
schooner  of  just  over  one  hundred  tons  burden, 
was  built  at  Canton  under  my  personal  super- 
vision, and  we  named  her  the  Water  Witch. 
The  irony  of  fate  !     What's  in  a  name  ? 

Croker  was  appointed  master,  with  Mr.  Pears 
and  myself  as  mates,  and  the  other  members  of 
the   crew   were  John   Roberts,  a  former  ship- 


THE   AUTHOR, 

From  a  Photo,  ly  J. 


mate  of  my  own,  belonging  to  Manchester ; 
Alfred  Usher,  a  native  of  Edinburgh  ;  David 
White,  hailing  from  the  little  port  of  Stromness, 
in  the  Orkney  Islands ;  Chas.  Barnes  and 
Frank  Reynolds,  two  Americans ;  a  Chinese 
cook  named  Ah  Fong,  and  a  cabin-boy,  also 
a  Celestial. 

We  left  Hong-Kong  about  the  beginning  of 
August,  1899,  and,  making  a  quick  run,  picked 
up  the  north-east  coast  of  Luzon,  off  the  town 
of  San  Fernando  de  Union,  at- the  end  of  six 
days.  Here,  however,  we  lay  becalmed  for 
forty-eight  hours. 

Towards  evening  on  the 
second  day  we  heard  firing  on 
shore,  and  presently  the  Ameri- 
can cruiser  Concord  came  out 
and  sent  a  shot  across  our  bows. 
We  hove-to  immediately,  and  a 
boat  from  the  warship,  manned 
by  an  aimed  crew,  proceeded  in 
our  direction.  The  officer  in 
command  carried  orders  to 
search  the  Water  Witch,  the 
captain  of  the  Concord  having 
a  suspicion  that  we  were  carry- 
ing contraband  of  war.  The 
examination  proved  satisfactory ; 
nevertheless,  we  were  com- 
manded to  proceed  outside  the 
three-mile  limit,  or  our  ship 
would  be  seized  and  towed  into 
Manila  as  a  prize.  I  would  to 
Heaven  it  had,  and  those 
terrible  nights  and  days  of  peril 
and  suffering  would  have  been  spared  us. 

Obeying  orders,  we  stood  out  to  sea.  That 
night  a  raging  typhoon  struck  the  ship,  and  for 
four  days  we  were  tossed  about  at  the  mercy  of 
the  wind  and  waves.  Hurricane  after  hurricane 
hurled  its  fierce  force  upon  us,  and  our  tiny 
craft  was  in  imminent  danger.  The  heavy  seas 
swept  the  deck  from  stem  to  stern,  and  every- 
thing movable  was  carried  overboard  or  dashed 
to  fragments. 

For  nineteen  long  days  and  nights  the  bad 


DAVID   LEITCH. 
P.  Millar,  Falkirk 


CAST    AWAY    AMONG    THE    FILIPINOS. 


53 


weather  continued,  and  contrary  winds  carried 
us  we  knew  not  where.  Our  chronometer  was 
broken  and  we  got  entirely  out  of  our  reckoning. 
About  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  of  the 
twentieth  day  an  unusually  severe  storm  over- 
whelmed us  ;  the  Water  Witch  was  driven 
before  the  irresistible  fury  of  the  blast,  and 
finally  dashed  with  terrible  force  upon  a  reef  of 
sunken  rocks. 

When  daylight  broke  we  ascertained  that  we 
had  struck  upon 
the  dangerous 
Scarborough 
Shoal,    about    a 
hundred  miles  to 
the    west    of 
Manila,  and  any 
prospect  of  get- 
ting off   seemed 
hopeless  from 
the    first.       We 
resolved,    there- 
fore, to  abandon 
the  ship  at   the 
very      earliest 
moment,  and  as 
we   had  with  us 
only  one    small 
dinghy,    capable 
of    holding     six 
men,    we    deter- 
mined    also    to 
improvise  a  raft. 
Our  tools  con- 
sisted of  an  axe, 
a  hand-saw,  and 
a  few  nails.    We 
unfixed  the  gaff 
and   booms  and 
lashed  them  to- 
gether.   We  tore 
up   the  decks — 
or,   rather,   what 
part  of  them    remained 
above  water  ;  we  toiled 
throughout     the    whole 
day  and   night,  and   to- 
wards the  following  morn- 
ing the  raft  was  ready. 

All  this  time  we  had  been  flying  signals  of 
distress,  but  it  was  most  unlikely  that  vessels 
would  venture  near  a  place  so  dangerous.  The 
weather  had  moderated,  however,  and  we  were 
able  to  launch  the  dinghy,  putting  Usher  and 
Roberts  in  charge.  We  had  passed  on  board 
what  small  stock  of  water  we  had  in  the 
"  breaker,"  and  were  in  the  act  of  passing  other 
provisions  also,  when  a  huge  wave  rolled  in 
upon  us,  capsized,  the  little  boat,  and  precipi- 


tated the  two  men  into  the  sea.  Ere  we  had 
time  to  recover  our  scattered  senses,  hundreds  of 
hungry  sharks  flocked  around  and  threatened  to 
devour  the  poor  fellows.  When  we  realized  their 
peril,  the  captain  and  I  both  seized  rifles,  in  order 
to  ward  off  the  monsters,  but  Usher,  thinking  we 
proposed  to  put  him  out  of  agony  before  he 
should  feel  the  cruel  teeth  of  the  sharks, 
shouted  appealingly  to  us  to  let  him  live. 

Fortunately  both  men  managed  to  scramble 

on  to  the  up- 
turned dinghy, 
which  was  fast 
drifting  away 
from  the  ship. 
Thinking  to  save 
the  situation,  I 
seized  the  axe 
and  severed  the 
rope  which  held 
fast  the  raft.  It 
was  soon  drifting 
in  the  same 
direction  as  the 
dinghy,  and  the 
two  seamen 
swam  to  it,  drag- 
ging the  dinghy 
with  them. 

The  articles 
that  had  already 
been  transferred 
to  the  boat  had 
been  carefully 
lashed,  so  that 
these  were  found 
to  be  secure 
when  the  two 
seamen  hoisted 
it  upon  the  raft. 
Further  ex- 
amination 
showed  that 
the  damage  done 
had  been  trifl- 
ing, and  repairs 
were  easily  effec- 
ted.  In  the 
meantime,  how- 
ever, both  raft  and  dinghy  had  drifted  farther  and 
farther  away  from  the  ship— so  far,  indeed,  that 
we  were  unable  to  hail  them  by  shouting.  The 
seamen  tried  to  launch  the  dinghy  in  order  to 
paddle  back  to  us,  but  their  efforts  were  futile  ; 
and  finally,  to  our  indescribable  horror,  dinghy 
and  raft  and  seamen  disappeared  entirely  from 
view. 

Both  men  were  very  capable  sailors,  and  we 
hoped  that  they  might  strike  land  somewhere 


jr'ffiSta 


USHEK    SHOUTED    AFPEALINGLY    TO    US   TO    LET    HIM    LIVE. 


54 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


or  be  picked  up  by  some  passing  vessel ;  but, 
personally,  I  never  expected  to  see  them  again. 
Indeed,  our  own  position  on  the  Water  Witch 
was  perilous  in  the  extreme,  and  to  my  mind  it 
was  a  moot  question  which  of  us  would  first 
find  a  watery  grave. 

The  loss  of  the  raft  and  dinghy  at  one 
swoop  was  a  terrible  blow  to  our  hopes.  We 
had  utilized  every  available  spar  in  making  the 
raft,  and  there  was  now  small  chance  of  our 
escape.  The  captain  suggested  that  we  might 
construct  a  canvas  boat,  and,  as  our  sails  were 
brand-new,  the  proposal  seemed  feasible  enough, 
if  only  we  could  get  together  a  few  pieces  of 
wood  to  form  the  framework. 

The  forepart  of  the  ship  was  still  above  water, 
so  we  turned  our  attention  to  the  jibboom, 
which  we  split  by  means  of  wedges,  and  so 
fashioned  the  keel.  To  form  the  stem  and 
stern  two  thin  iron  bars  were  taken  from  the 
hatch  tarpaulin,  but,  as  the  hatchway  was  under 
water,  the  task  of  securing  these  was  no  easy 
one.  In  and  around  the  ship  sharks  prowled 
about  in  search  of  a  meal  off  something  or 
somebody.  In  desperate  circumstances,  how- 
ever, men  face  death  with  calm  courage,  and 
one  of  the  crew  readily  volunteered  to 
dive  for  the  irons,  while  the  captain  and 
myself  stood  guard  over  him  with 
loaded  rifles.  In  a  few  seconds  he  had 
accomplished  his  purpose. 

Two  or  three  planks  from  the  weather 
bulwarks  provided  the  ribs  for  the  frail 
craft,  and  we  lashed  the  several  parts 
together  with  wire,  our  small  stock  of 
nails  having  given  out. 

We  next  turned  our  attention  to  the 
canvas  covering,  using  for  the  purpose 
the  foresail,  which  had  become  en- 
tangled round  the  foremast.  Bits  of 
spun-yarn,  some  small  pieces  of  twine, 
and  a  sail-maker's  needle  did  the  rest. 
Then  with  some  white  lead  and  a  tin 
of  brown  paint — it  is  marvellous  how 
many  useful  things  turn,  up  when  people 
are  in  real  difficulties — we  coated  the 
outside  of  the  canvas,  and  the  tiny 
vessel,  to  which  we  were  about  to  con- 
sign our  lives,  was  ready  for  launching. 
A  spare  spar  was  impro vised  as  a  mast, 
a  few  pieces  of  planking  were  shipped 
as  paddles,  the  remainder  of  the  canvas 
was  requisitioned  as  a  sail,  and  a  long 
rope  and  heavy  piece  of  iron  for  an 
anchor  completed  the  furnishings. 

On  tin-  morning  of  the  sixth  day 
after  the  wreck  we  dropped  the  little 
boat  into  the  water,  and  t<«  our  infinite 
joy     found      that     it      was      watertight. 


Suddenly,  however,  a  huge  wave  came  swirling 
over  the  reef,  and  to  our  unspeakable  dismay 
we  witnessed  our  single  remaining  hope  drift 
rapidly  from  us  ! 

There  was  not  a  single  second  to  lose.  With 
infinite  presence  of  mind  Frank  Reynolds 
plunged  into  the  surging  billows  and  struck  out 
boldly  in  the  direction  of  the  disappearing  boat, 
already  some  thirty  yards  away.  During  the 
hazardous  journey  his  path  was  beset  with 
sharks,  and  we  watched  his  plucky  efforts  with 
mingled  feelings  of  expectancy  and  fear.  At 
last  he  reached  the  boat  and,  clutching  the 
makeshift  anchor,  dragged  it  into  the  water. 
We  held  our  breath ;  then  a  mighty  shout  rose 
from  the  thankful  castaways.    The  anchor  held  ! 

The  boat  could  not  be  brought  back  to  the 
wreck,  however ;  so  it  was  soon  made  manifest 
that  all  of  us  would  be  compelled  to  "face  the 
music,"  and  swim  to  it,  even  as  the  brave 
Reynolds  had  done.  Captain  Croker,  carrying 
with  him  his  rifle  and  ammunition,  went  first ; 
Pears  and  the  seamen  followed,  and  then  the 
turn  of  the  Chinamen  came. 

The  poor  Celestials  were  utterly  terror-stricken 
at  the  sight  of  the  lurking  sharks,  and  no  assur- 


PPinii 


.  j  $ka 


AT    LAST    HE    REACHED    oil.    UOAT. 


CAST    AWAY    AMONG    THE    FILIPINOS. 


55 


ance  of  protection  would  persuade  them  to 
enter  the  water.  We  coaxed,  we  threatened, 
but  all  our  pleadings  and  threats  were  alike 
futile  ;  and  at  last  I  was  obliged  to  seize  the 
cabin-boy  and  literally  throw  him  overboard. 
The  little  fellow  was  unable  to  swim,  and  would 
certainly  have  been  drowned  had  not  the  ever- 
ready  Reynolds  again  displayed  his  lion-hearted 
pluck  and  dived  to  his  assistance.  Ah  Fong 
then  thought  better  of  his  refusal  and  struck 
out  from  the  wreck.     . 

I  was  the  last  to  leave  the  doomed  ship. 
Slinging  my  rifle  over  my  shoulder,  I  pushed 
off,  and  when  all  of  us  had  got  safely  into  the 
tiny  craft  we  bade  farewell  to  the  ill-fated 
Water  Witch  and  drifted  away  into  the  night. 
Next  morning,  the  seventh  day  after  the  disaster, 
the  wreck  was  nowhere  to  be  seen. 

We  had  no  compass,  but,  according  to  the 
chart  which  we  took  with  us,  the  nearest  land 
was  the  west  coast  of  Luzon.  In  this  direction, 
as  we  believed,  we  steered,  being  guided  by  the 
sun  by  day  and  the  stars  by  night.  We  had  to 
paddle  all  the  time,  so  our  work  was  both  hard 
and  fatiguing  and  our  suffering  extreme.  There 
was  practically  no  food  or  water  in  the  boat,  our 
entire  stock  being  a  handful  of  biscuits,  some 
tins  of  Bovril,  and  a  little  water  in  an  oil-can. 
The  biscuits,  however,  had  been  completely 
soaked  with  water. 

The  little  company  was  divided  into  three 
watches  of  two  hours  each.  For  four  days 
nothing  occurred  to  relieve  the  terrible  mono- 
tony. Despair  settled  on  us  like  a  cloud.  Our 
eyes  grew  dim  with  anxious  watching ;  our 
hearts  sank  within  us,  but  never  a  sail  appeared 
upon  the  wide  horizon.  On  the  fifth  day  the 
poor  little  cabin-boy's  courage  failed  him,  and 
he  attempted  to  commit  suicide  by  leaping  over- 
board. We  were  obliged,  therefore,  to  tie  him, 
but  it  would  have  been  well  for  the  lad  if  we 
had  permitted  the  sea  to  claim  him.  He  would 
have  been  spared  the  torture  and  ignominy  of  a 
later  day. 

The  agony  of  our  thirst  steadily  increased, 
and  in  our  efforts  to  obtain  relief  we  tried  many 
devices.  We  would  put  buttons  into  our 
mouths  and  move  them  about  with  the  tongue, 
so  that  a  little  moisture  collected.  Another 
time  we  would  take  off  the  few  remaining 
clothes  left  to  us,  and  after  soaking  them  in  the 
salt  water  put  them  on  again.  We  also  sought 
to  mitigate  the  intensity  of  our  suffering  by 
throwing  the  salt  water  over  our  bodies,  the 
pores  acting  as  a  sort  of  filter.  We  were  obliged 
ultimately  to  abandon  this  practice,  as  the  brine 
caused  our  bodies  to  break  out  in  terrible  sores. 

All  this  time  the  sharks  had  not  failed  to 
give  us  close  attention.     Sometimes  they  came 


so  near  to  us  that  we  feared  they  might,  at  any 
moment,  make  a  concerted  attack  upon  us,  in 
which  case  their  sharp  teeth  would  have  made 
a  speedy  end  to  our  little  boat  and  us.  Now 
and  again  we  fired  a  few  shots  at  them,  and  in 
this  way  scared  them  off  for  a  time. 

David  White,  the  Orkney  seaman,  gave  out  on 
the  fifth  day.  The  poor  fellow  had  toiled  man- 
fully at  the  paddles,  but  at  last,  utterly  over- 
come, he  collapsed  into  the  bottom  of  the  boat. 
Captain  Croker  was  also  in  a  semi-conscious 
condition,  but,  seeing  White  relinquish  the  oar, 
roused  himself  somewhat,  and  with  a  strangely 
wild  look  in  his  eyes  angrily  ordered  him  to 
resume.  White  could  not  move,  whereupon 
Croker,  in  feeble  exasperation,  seized  his  rifle 
and  would  certainly  have  killed  the  sailor  had 
not  Pears  and  I  interfered.  Realizing  the 
situation  for  a  moment  the  captain  desisted,  and 
immediately  thereafter  again  collapsed. 

Every  new  morning  as  the  day  dawned  our 
eyes  eagerly  scanned  the  lone  horizon.  Mirages 
were  constantly  deceiving  us  and  strange  sights 
appeared  before  us.  Betimes  we  could  see — or 
thought  we  saw — what  appeared  to  be  well- 
wooded  islands ;  anon  high  hills  and  lovely 
valleys  would  rise  to  view ;  but  the  changing 
scenes  always  faded  away  and  our  eyes  were 
again  fixed  upon  the  illimitable  waste  of  ocean. 
It  was  no  uncommon  thing  for  one  of  the  men 
to  spring  up  in  a  wild  ecstasy  of  delight,  pro- 
claiming, "  There  is  land  ! "  only,  however,  to 
sink  down  again  in  despair. 

In  those  tropical  climes  rain  falls  frequently 
in  patches  only,  and  it  was  our  hard  fortune 
often  to  find  ourselves  just  outside  the  rain  zone. 
On  such  occasions  we  would  put  out  our  best 
efforts  in  order  to  reach  the  spot,  but  nearly 
always  the  welcome  shower  had  passed  before  we 
could  overtake  it.  Thus  disappointment  was 
heaped  on  disappointment,  suffering  on  suffer- 
ing. Our  extremest  agony  was  undoubtedly  the 
want  of  water  to  drink.  The  pangs  of  hunger 
were  excruciating  enough,  in  all  conscience,  but 
our  terrible  thirst  was  unbearable. 

The  boat  required  continual  attention — one 
steering,  others  paddling,  and  all  anxiously  on 
the  look-out.  But  what  did  all  our  efforts 
amount  to  ?  Though  we  refused  to  believe  it, 
we  were  proceeding  quite  aimlessly  to  an  un- 
known destiny.  Well  for  us,  perhaps  !  Pears 
showed  marvellous  powers  of  endurance,  and, 
while  he  worked  like  a  Trojan  himself,  he 
encouraged  and  exhorted  the  rest  of  us  to  a 
quite  remarkable  degree. 

Our  supply  of  clothing — from  the  first  of  the 
very  scantiest  description — was  now  in  a  most 
deplorable  condition.  Each  man  had  only  one 
pair  of  trousers  and  a  pyjama  shirt ;  our  jackets 


56 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


were  in  rags.  A  gold  watch  and  ring  in  my 
possession  were  worthless  articles  under  such 
circumstances. 

A  strange  incident  occurred  in  the  afternoon 
of  the  sixth  day.  Two  swallows  suddenly  darted 
down  upon  us  and  perched  themselves  on  the 
gunwale  of  the  boat.  Their  appearance  among 
us  might  readily  have  been  taken  to  presage 
land  near  at  hand,  and  instinctively  we  gazed  in 
the  direction  from 
whence  they  had 
seemed  to  come.  It 
did  not  suggest  itself 
to  our  confused 
minds  that  the  birds 
would  not  have  come 
so  near  had  they  not 
lost  themselves  at 
sea,  and  in  their  ex- 
tremity sought  a 
landing-place  on  the 
boat. 

But  we  did  not 
linger  to  discuss  the 
reason.  With  savage 
eagerness  we  seized 
the  little  creatures, 
tore  them  to  pieces, 
and  divided  the 
spoil. 

The  seventh  da) 
found  us  still  toiling 
at  the  paddles  ;    but 

wc  were  so  very  much  exhausted  that  I  am 
afraid  the  boat  was  making  little  headway 
towards  land,  or,  rather,  towards  the  direc- 
tion in  which  we  hoped  to  find  land.  For- 
tunately the  weather  had  continued  fairly  calm, 
though  the  heat  during  the  day  was  intense. 
That  same  morning  a  butterfly  fluttered  past, 
and  fresh  hope  again  possessed  us,  for  here 
surely  was  evidence  that  land  could  not  now  be 
far  off. 

Some  hours  later  our  long,  weary  vigil  was 
rewarded,  and  at  last  we  sighted  the  long- 
looked-for  land.  Who  shall  express  the  un- 
bounded joy  of  our  hearts?  Who  shall  measure 
the  delirium  of  our  delight  ?  A  new  danger 
seemed  to  threaten  us,  and  our  wild  ecstasy 
almost  overwhelmed  our  feeble  strength. 

We  paddled  along  merrily  for  some  time,  but 
as  the  afternoon  wore  on  and  the  evening  drew 
nigh  we  began  to  fear  that  our  first  joyous  anti- 
cipations would  not  be  realized.  Just  as  darkness 
was  creeping  over  the  surface  of  the  waters  a 
steamer  hove  in  sight,  and  we  made  frantic 
efforts  to  attract  attention  ;  but  as  the  means  at 
our  disposal  were  next  to  useless,  our  appeal 
passed    unnoticed   and   she   disappeared   from 


sight.  The  blackness  of  night  gathered  thick 
and  fast  around  us,  but  it  was  no  blacker  than 
the  awful  gloom  and  despair  that  filled  our 
hearts. 

I  can  remember  nothing  more  until  the  sensa- 
tion of  kindly  hands  touching  me  roused  me 
from  the  torpor  into  which  I  had  fallen.  The 
languor  of  my  unconsciousness  seemed  to  lift 
like  a  mist  before  the  rising  sun,  and  it  came  to 


A    STEAMER    HOVE    IN    SIGHT,    AND    WE    MADE    FRANTIC    EFFORTS   TO   ATTRACT   ATTENTION. 

my  knowledge  that  we  were  in  the  custody  of 
Filipinos,  on  the  little  Island  of  Masingloc. 
What  time  had  elapsed  since  I  became  uncon- 
scious I  cannot  tell;  and  for  the  greater  portion, 
at  least,  of  the  same  period  the  others  also  were 
in  a  like  condition  to  myself;  but  we  may 
surmise  that  it  was  only  a  few  hours,  the  likeliest 
explanation  being  that  the  next  tide  carried  us 
shoreward  and  stranded  us  at  last  upon  the 
beach. 

The  islanders  were  untiring  in  their  efforts  to 
afford  us  relief,  and  I  mention  the  fact  the  more 
readily  as  their  great  kindness  to  us  stood  out  in 
bold  contrast  to  the  horrible  treatment  to  which 
we  were  afterwards  destined  to  be  subjected  on 
the  main  island. 

Masingloc  is  adjacent  to  the  larger  island  of 
Luzon,  and  as  soon  as  our  condition  would 
permit  we  were  shipped  across  to  the  town  of 
l'alawig,  where  we  were  kindly  received  by  the 
Presidente  and  the  townspeople.  In  the  mean- 
time the  Masingloc  islanders  had  relieved  us  of 
our  rifles  and  revolvers,  together  with  my  gold 
watch  and  ring. 

At  Palawig  we  were  accommodated  in  the 
Presidentia,   or   town-building,    where   we  were 


CAST    AWAY    AMONG    THE    FILIPINOS. 


57 


supplied  with  mats  to  sleep  on.  We  were 
entertained  to  chicken-stew  and  rice,  and 
altogether  seemed  to  be  in   luck's  way. 

Our  hosts  made  minute  and  searching 
inquiries  as  to  our  identity,  but,  as  none  of  us 
could  speak  the  language,  our  eloquent  declara- 
tions were  wasted.  They  secretly  suspected 
that  we  were  hated  "  Americanos,"  and  a  curt 
(and,  as  it  proved,  cruel)  message  from  the 
British  Consul  at  Manila  seemed  to  them  to 
conclusively  confirm  their  suspicion.  This 
official  gratuitously  informed  Aguinaldo  that 
the  Water  Witch  sailed  under  the  American 
flag  and  was  manned  entirely  by  Americans. 
This  information  was  our  undoing. 

A  report  was  sent  to  Sehor  Camera,  the 
Governor  at  Iba,  who  immediately  ordered  us 
to  be  sent  to  him  without  delay.  Iba  is  distant 
from  Palawig 
some  six  or 
seven  hours' 
ride,  and  as  we 
were  too  weak 
to  walk  the  Pre- 
sidente  kindly 
supplied  bul- 
lock-waggons for 
our  conveyance, 
and  over  these 
weary  miles  of 
roads  we  were 
carted  to  Iba. 

On  arrival 
we  were  im- 
mediately taken 
before  the 
Governor,  who 
promptly  pro- 
nounced us  to  be  "Americanos,"  and  ordered 
us  to  be  taken  to  Tarlec,  the  then  head-quarters 
of  the  insurgents.-  At  Iba  the  last  evidence  of 
our  nationality  was  taken  from  us,  for  that  night, 
while  I  slept,  my  Bible  and  papers  were  stolen 
from  me. 

To  reach  Tarlec  we  had  to  return  by  way  of 
Palawig,  where  we  stayed  the  night.  About  two 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  however,  a  courier  arrived 
from  Governor  Camera,  with  orders  to  fetch  us 
back  to  Iba  ;  and  back  to  Iba,  over  these  three 
Spanish  leagues  of  terrible  roads,  we  went. 
Since  the  previous  morning  we  had  not  been 
offered,  and  so  had  not  tasted,  one  bite  of 
food  or  drop  of  water,  and  to  add  to  the 
intensity  of  our  dire  sufferings  we  were  com- 
pelled on  this  second  journey  to  walk  all  the 
way.  Our  feet  —  by  this  time  we  had  no 
boots — were  fearfully  worn  and  lacerated,  and 
our  bodily  condition  was  terrible.  A  guard  of 
twenty  Filipinos,  armed  with  rifles,  bolos  (Filipino 

Vol.  xiv.— 8. 


THE  TATTOOED    DESIGNS   ON    THE    BACK    OF    T 

THE    FILII' 

From  a  Photo,  by  J.  P. 


swords),  and  bows  and  arrows,  escorted  us. 
We  were  tied  together  two  and  two  and  driven 
along  like  sheep. 

Our  laggard  steps  were  frequently  greeted  with 
yells  of  "Teeki,  teeki !  "  ("  Hurry  up  ! ")  They 
heartily  cursed  our  dilatoriness,  but  as  the 
language  was  double  Dutch  to  us  our  feelings 
were  not  greatly  hurt.  In  another  respect  our 
feelings  were  very  much  hurt,  for  they  repeatedly 
cheered  us  along  with  the  points  of  their  bolos 
or  the  butts  of  their  rifles. 

We  reached  Iba  at  last,  and  were  again  taken 
into  the  august  presence  of  Sehor  Camera.  We 
were  closely  interrogated — myself  particularly, 
with  reference  to  a  butterfly  tattoo  which 
adorned  the  back  of  both  my  hands.  The 
decoration  was  ingenious,  one  wing  on  each 
hand  representing  the  Union  Jack,  the  other  the 

Stars  and  Stripes 
of  America. 
These  marks  the 
Filipinos  could 
not  understand 
at  all.  They 
would  pick  up 
one  hand,  and, 
after  examining 
the  wings  of  the 
butterfly,  would 
exclaim,  "  Eng- 
leesh,"  and  a 
moment  later, 
"Americano." 
As  a  matter  of 
fact,      however, 

WHICH    SO  PUZZLED  they  only  SOUght 

Millar,  Falkirk.  One      Conclusion 

— to  prove  that 
we  were  "  Americanos  " — and  so  their  task  was 
easy.  The  Governor  even  went  so  far  as  to  write 
out  a  confession,  and  when  we  refused  to  sign  it 
he  was  exasperated  beyond  measure,  and  had  us 
bound  together  and  flung  into  a  corner.  In 
this  wretched  state  we  continued  for  three 
wrhole  weeks,  our  captors  merely  tossing  us  a 
handful  of  rice  and  a  little  water  now  and 
again  to  keep  us  alive. 

We  were  herded  among  the  pigs  and  poultry 
and  caribou — a  kind  of  domesticated  buffalo  — 
in  the  horrible  damp  and  filth  underneath  the 
Governor's  house,  which  was  built  on  piles  as  a 
preventive  against  fever  in  the  rainy  season. 
Here  we  lay,  exposed  not  only  to  the  risks  of 
diseases  of  all  kinds,  but  to  the  insults  and 
abuse  of  every  Filipino  who  chanced  to  pass. 
The  people  flocked  to  see  us,  and  would  pelt  us 
with  stones  and  mud,  even  approaching  close 
enough  to  spit  in  our  faces  and  breathe  their 
horrible  curses  upon  us.     They  pleasantly  indi- 


58 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE 


cated  what  would  be  our  ultimate  fate  by 
drawing  their  knives  across  their  throats. 
Frequently,  I  am  afraid,  I  prayed  that  some  of 
them  might  meet  with  an  accident  during  the 
symbolic  operation. 

But  mere  degradation  was  apparently  not 
enough.  They  must  needs  add  torture,  and  for 
a  time  we  were  fixed  in  a  rude  set  of  stocks 
made  of  ironvvood.  Two  thick  bamboo  poles 
were  driven  into  the  ground,  and  to  these  a 
heavy  plank,  with  pieces  cut  out  for  our  feet, 
was  attached.  On  top  of  this  another  plank, 
with  corresponding  holes,  was  laid,  and  the  two 
were  tightly  fixed  together  by  a  bar  driven 
through  the  poles.  We  were  compelled  to  sit 
on  the  ground  with  our  legs  raised  at  an  angle 
and  our  ankles  wedged  into  these  planks. 
There  was  no  support  whatever  for  our  backs, 
and  if  we  endeavoured    to    recline  our    heads 


'WE   WERE   COMPELLED    TO    SIT    ON    'INK    GROUND    WITH    OUR    LEGS    RAISED    AT   AN    ANGLE   AND   OUR 

ANKLES    WEDGED    INTO   THBSB    PLANKS." 


merely  touched  the  wall.  In  consequence  of 
our  cramped  position  and  the  exceeding  in- 
sufficiency of  food,  our  joints  began  to  swell, 
and  the  pain  was  excruciating. 

To  my  mind  we  had  now  to  choose  between 
an  attempt  to  escape  and  death.  I  chose  the 
former,  so  also  did  Reynolds,  Barnes,  and 
White,  but  when  we  communicated  our  inten- 
tion to  Captain  Croker  and  Pears  the  former 
me  furious,  scouted  the  proposal  as  wild 
and  foolish,  and  gave  it  as  his  opinion  that 
any  such  attempt    would    mean   instant  death 


to  all  of   us.       Pears    also  preferred    to  await 
developments. 

We  were  well  aware  of  the  risks.  An  armed 
Filipino  reckons  life  very  cheaply,  and  if  we  were 
caught  in  the  act  we  could  expect  little  quarter. 
Besides,  in  our  terrible  condition  we  could  make 
a  very  poor  show  indeed  if  it  came  to  a  race  for 
life,  and  in  any  case  it  meant  that  we  could  only 
look  forward  to  the  alternative  terrors  of  hunger 
and  thirst,  and  perhaps  death  in  the  bush.  But 
we  were  desperate  men,  and  a  struggle — even  a 
death  struggle — seemed  preferable  to  the  gnaw- 
ing agonies  of  slow  dissolution.  Our  minds 
were  made  up. 

One  night  the  great  opportunity  for  which  we 
had  longed  came.  The  guards  omitted  to  fix 
our  feet  in  the  stocks  !  With  almost  feverish 
impatience  we  waited  till  all  was  still.  About 
two  o'clock  the  soldiers  on  duty  were  beguiling 

the  time  by  playing 
Monte,  a  Mexican 
game  of  cards.  They 
were  seated  round 
a  fire,  and  during  the 
progress  of  the  game 
the  excitement  rose 
to  a  high  pitch,  and 
they  quite  forgot  the 
poor  wretches  over 
whom  they  were  sup- 
posed to  watch.  At 
the  moment  of  the 
greatest  excitement 
we  bade  Captain 
Croker  and  Pears 
and  the  two  China- 
men a  silent  farewell 
and  slipped  away 
into  the  darkness. 
Exerting  ourselves  to 
the  utmost  of  our 
weak  powers,  we 
speedily  got  clear  of 
the  houses  and  en- 
tered the  bush. 

We  were  free,  cer- 
tainly ;  but  where 
were  we  to  turn  in  a  wild  country  not  one  foot 
of  which  we  knew  ? 

Two  ranges  of  high  mountains  seemed  to  shut 
us  in.  These  mountains  are  infested  by  savage 
tribes,  among  whom  it  was  useless  for  us  to  seek 
protection.  Beyond  one  range  of  mountains 
and  in  the  centre  of  the  island  we  knew  that 
the  American  troops  had  been  operating  for 
some  time,  but  to  try  to  reach  them  through 
these  mountain  fastnesses  would  have  been 
folly,  so  we  decided  to  keep  to  the  bush  as 
much   as  possible  until  we  should   be  able  to 


WjTv^u* 


CAST    AWAY    AMONG    THE    FILIPINOS. 


59 


make  our  way  down  to  the  sea,  where  at  some 
point  we  might  find  a  boat,  put  out  from  the 
shore,  and  hail  a  passing  ship. 

We  decided,  therefore,  to  wend  our  way  along 
the  bank  of  a  river  close  by,  but  just  as  we  were 
in  the  act  of  so  doing  we  heard  a  loud  shout, 
and  the  next  moment  a  party  of  Filipinos  were 
upon  us.  We 
were  filled  with 
con  sternat  ion, 
and  the  desperate 
idea  of  fighting  to 
a  finish  swelled 
up  within  us  ;  but 
as  our  pursuers 
had  already  level- 
led their  rifles  at 
us  we  realized  the 
hopelessness  of 
resistance  or  even 
flight,  and  with 
heavy  hearts  gave 
ourselves  up  for 
lost. 

Ou  r  ca  ptor  s 
bound  our  hands 
firmly  behind  our 
backs  with  cane 
strappings,  and 
once  more  we 
were  hustled  back 
to  Iba.  Our  wrists 
were  so  tightly 
tied  that  circula- 
tion of  the  blood 
was  impeded,  and 
our  hands  became 
black.  More- 
over, the  cane  cut 
deeply  into  our 
flesh,  and  we 
suffered  intense 
pain.  We  were 
ruthlessly  driven 
forward,  however, 
urged  at  times  by 

a  stroke  from  the  flat  of  a  bolo,  and  plied  with 
ominous  threats  as  to  our  fate  at  the  journey's 
end.  Poor  White,  who  was  bound  to  me,  was 
dragged  along  in  a  more  or  less  helpless  condi- 
tion, a  prod  from  a  bolo  or  a  volley  of  curses 
being  the  only  response  to  his  piteous  appeals. 

About  three  in  the  afternoon  we  reached 
Iba  and  were  immediately  taken  before  the 
Governor.  My  name  was  called  and  I  stepped 
in  front.  Obviously  the  last  scene  in  this 
dreadful  drama  had  come.     Reading  from  what 


WE    WERE    RUTHLESSLY    DRIVEN    FORWARD. 


appeared  to  be  an  official  order,  the  Governor 
called  out  the  names  of  all  my  comrades.  Then 
followed  the  indictment  and,  as  we  gathered 
from  the  few  words  of  the  language  which  we 
had  picked  up,  the  penalty.  We  concluded 
that  we  were  to  be  executed — in  what  manner, 
or  when,  we  were  unable  to. say.     No  indication 

of  their  diabolical 
intention  came  to 
us  during  all  that 
eventful  day,  and 
that  night  we 
were  divided  into 
two  groups  — 
Pears,  White,  the 
two  Chinamen, 
and  myself  form- 
i  n  g  one,  and 
Captain  Croker, 
Reynolds,  and 
Barnes  the  other. 
The  parties  were 
hurried  off  in 
different  direc- 
tions, and  that 
was  the  last  I  saw 
of  the  three  last- 
named. 

No  food  was 
given  to  us,  yet 
we  were  still 
driven  along  at  a 
rapid  rate,  our 
guards  bringing 
up  the  rear. 
Reaching  a  river 
we  were  compel- 
led to  wade  in. 
Poor  White,  who 
was  again  bound 
to  me,  showed 
signs  of  collapse, 
and  stumbling  on 
the  bank  he  fell, 
dragging  me  on 
the  top  of  him. 
The  soldiers  beat  us  cruelly  with  their  bolos, 
and  the  next  moment  we  were  both  plunged 
into  the  water.  The  bath  revived  White, 
and  was  very  welcome  indeed  to  all  of  us, 
but  we  had  scarcely  entered  the  river  when 
we  were  furiously  attacked  by  myriads  of 
voracious  insects — the  dreaded  wood-leeches  of 
the  tropics  !  These  horrid-looking  little  reptiles, 
about  three  inches  long,  caused  us  untold 
agonies,  as  our  hands  were  securely  tied  and  we 
could  not  help  ourselves. 


(To  be  concluded.) 


From  a  Photo,  by  11'.  S.  Campbell 


Describing  how  the  residents  of  a  Derbyshire  village  were 
startled  by  the  mysterious  appearance  of  a  veritable  "  wild 
man  of  the  woods,"  an  extraordinary  being  who  had  appar- 
ently resolved  upon  a  return  to  primitive  ways.  The  author 
sets  forth  the  many  amusing  and  exciting  incidents  that 
followed    the  "wild  man's"  advent. 


wtm 


HE  sleepy  little  village  of  Bakewell 
lies  in  the  beautiful  Peak  district  of 
Derbyshire.  One  of  the  "sights" 
for  visitors  is  that  glorious  mediaeval 
structure,  Haddon  Hall.  The  whole 
country  around,  through  the  heart  of  which  the 
Midland  Railway  runs,  is  of  the  most  picturesque 
description,  and  upon  the  occasion  of  my  recent 
visit  was  wearing  its  most  alluring  garb.  The 
journey  from  Derby  to  Bakewell  was  a  perfect 
dream  of  sylvan  beauty,  many  of  the  slopes 
being  simply  carpeted  with  bluebells  and  forget- 
me-nots,  and  in  places  laved  by  the  glistening 
waters  of  the  River  Wye. 

It  is  necessary,  for  the  proper  understanding 
of  the  veracious  narrative  which  follows,  that  the 
exact  geographical  and  relative  positions  of 
certain  parts  of  bakewell  should  be  clearly 
understood  by  the  reader.  Emerging,  then, 
from  the  station  you  come  upon  a  small  bridge 
which  crosses  the  railway  line ;  facing  you  is  an 
extensive  grassy  slope.  This  is  the  golf-links. 
Skirting  the  links,  and  stretching  for  miles  to 
Matlock,  is  a  dense  wood,  known  locally  as 
Wicksop  Woods,  some  of  the  recesses  of  which 
are  well-nigh  inaccessible.  A  path  runs  through 
the  wood,  but  on  either  side  of  this  the  under- 
growth of  bracken  is  so  thick  that  it  is  im- 
possible to  penetrate  far.  There  are  also  several 
old  stone  quarries  in  the  wood,  and,  where  the 
ground  is  comparatively  clear,  it  is  much  broken 
up  with  boulders.  On  the  outskirts  of  the  wood 
is  situated  Haddon  Hall,  the  Wye  sweeping 
through    within    a    few   yards   of    it.       About 


equidistant  between  the  station  and  Haddon, 
on  a  kind  of  plateau  on  the  slope  of  the 
hill,  is  a  reservoir  which  supplies  the  village 
with  water. 

On  a  certain  calm,  balmy  spring  evening,  on 
Friday  of  the  week,  certain  young  ladies  were 
enjoying  the  delights  of  golf  on  the  Bakewell 
links.  As  to  their  identities,  that  is  not  a 
matter  of  moment,  except  to  state  that  they 
were  the  daughters  of  prominent  residents. 
You  may  call  one  the  Hon.  Gertrude  and 
another  the  Lady  Araminta,  if  you  so  choose, 
and  perhaps  by  so  doing  we  may  understand 
better  the  social  calibre  of  the  ladies  in  question. 
Moreover,  as  has  been  stated,  they  were 
playing  golf,  and  that  is  a  sport  of  the  quality. 
Well,  the  ladies  swung  joyously  along  alter 
the  elusive  little  ball,  chatting  gaily  one  with 
another,  when,  having  arrived  near  the  summit 
of  the  slope  and  close  to  the  Wicksop  Wood, 
they  stopped  suddenly,  and  for  the  moment 
stared  in  amazement  towards  the  dense  foliage  : 
then,  with  sundry  little  screams  of  alarm,  turned 
about  and  fled  incontinently  down  the  slope  ! 

What  had  happened  to  so  startle  the  Hon. 
Gertrude,  the  Lady  Araminta,  and  their  friends? 
Nothing  more  nor  less  than  the  appearance  of 
an  extraordinary  apparition,  bursting  suddenly 
through  the  undergrowth  came  a  man,  or  some- 
thing resembling  a  man.  His  (lollies  —  if, 
indeed,  he  could  be  regarded  as  clothed 
were  of  the  most  meagre  description  and 
of  the  most  eccentric  character,  consisting 
solely     of     a    tattered     shirt,     boots,    and    an 


THE    "WILD    MAN"    OF    THE    PEAK. 


61 


ancient  silk  hat ! 
He    wore    long, 
straggling  locks, 
and  from  under 
his  shaggy  brows 
his     eyes     glis- 
tened   impishly. 
As     this    weird 
oeing  advanced 
,vith   leaps    and 
Dounds  he  emit- 
:ed     strange 
loises,   which 
ncreased  the 
adies'    terror   a 
mndredfold. 
)own  the  slope 
hey  fled  helter- 
kelter,  and  over 
he    broken 
round,  slipping, 
ailing,  rising 
gain,     little 
eeding      scrat- 
hes  or  bruises, 
leir    one    idea 
eing  to  get  as 
r    away    from 
hat     horrid 

Dectre    as    possible.       Strangely 
lough,    when    he    saw    the   con- 
ernation     his    appearance     had 
tused    the  man  himself  plunged 
ick  into  the  sable  depths  of  the  forest 
stnesses,  still  howling  and  grunting. 
The  news  of  this  exciting  experience 
as  soon  brought  to  Bakewell,  whence 
travelled,  via  the  Press,  far  and  wide 
er   the    land.      A  wild    man    of   the 
)ods  !    A  real,  live,  breathing,  dancing 
Id  man  !      This  was  too  much  for  Bakewell  ; 
e  whole  place  was  stirred  to 
depths,  and  almost  its  en- 
is  active  population  rose  as 
tie  man    and,   pressing   into 
vice  a  variety  of  weapons, 
m  walking-sticks  to  death- 
ciling    blunderbusses,    went 
search    of  the  wild    man  ! 
e   butcher,  the    baker,  the 
c  idlestick-maker — everybody 
aed  the  party,  and,  spread- 
out,  they  beat  the  woods 
1     countryside     for     miles 
|und.       But    no   wild    man 
ipeared. 

J|\s  evening  drew  near  on 
tl;  eventful  Friday,  which  will 
d  ibtless  in   future  figure   in 


THEY    KI.ED    INCONTINENTLY   DOWN 
THE   SLOPE." 


The    next    day 


red  letters  on  the  Bakewell  calendar, 
many  of    the    rustics   gave    up    the 
search  for  the  day  ;  but  some  of  the 
more  ardent  spirits  formed  themselves 
into  small  watch  parties  and,  equip- 
ping themselves 
with  lights,  kept 
guard    over    the 
wood  through 
the  nocturnal 
hours.  The  next 
morning    the 
only  news    they 
had     to    report 
was    that     they 
had  seen  a  flick- 
ering light  in  the 
remote     depths 
of    the    wood, 
which    moved 
about  like  a  will- 
o'-the-wisp.      It 
was     thereupon 
mooted  that  the 
wild  man  might 
be    in     direct 
touch    with    the 
lower      regions, 
and     be    torch- 
bearer    to  his 
Satanic  Majesty. 
Some     daring 
youths  volunteered  to  pur- 
sue  the  mysterious  light 
when    next  it  should    be 
seen,  and  did  actually  essay 
to  do  so ;  but  it  proved  a 
veritable    will-o'-the-wisp, 
and   nothing   tangible  re- 
sulted from  the  quest. 
Saturday  —  the    search    was 


From  a  Photo.  by\ 


THE   GOLF    COURSE   AT    BAKEWELL. 


62 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


continued.  By  this  time  the  police  had  also 
joined  in  the  hunt,  and  thus  "  given  official 
cognizance  to  the  sport  of  wild -man  hunt- 
ing. It  happened  in  this  manner.  Superin- 
tendent Blank  was  seated  in  his  office, 
studying  some  documents,  when  a  small  boy 
burst  breathlessly  into  the  place,  blurted  out 
"A  wild  man,  sir;  a  wild  man  !"  and  promptly 
collapsed.  The  inspector  looked  up  with  a 
professional  frown,  regarding  the  small  boy  as 
a  black-hearted  miscreant.  The  latter  shrank 
before  the  piercing  and  steadfast  gaze,  and 
between  his  tremulous  lips  there  trickled  the 
words,  "  A  wild  man  !  "  and  nothing  more.  Then 
the  superintendent  spoke,  and  these  are  the 
memorable  words  that  he  uttered  :  "  A  wild 
man  !  Why,  what  the — how  the  —  Where  ?  " 
The  official  spell  thus  being  broken,  and  being 
encouraged  by  the  interrogatory,  the  boy  became 
suddenly  communicative,  and  flowed  on  like  the 
immortal  brook.  "Yes,  sir,  in  the  wood;  all 
shirt  and  boots,  and  hat  and  long  hair.  And  he 
dances — and — and    makes    funny  noises,    sir — 

and  frightens  people.     And — and " 

"Yes,  yes,"  interjected  the  inspector,   stem- 
ming   the    torrent  of    eloquence;     "we'll    see 


human  speed,  and,  scorning  the  undergrowth, 
climbed  trees  and  swung  himself  from  branch 
to  branch  and  from  tree  to  tree  with  the  agility 
of  a  monkey,  while  his  toiling  pursuers  looked 
on  amazed.  Very  remarkable  was  this  picture 
as  described  to  me  —  the  wild,  scantily-clad 
creature,  with  his  tangled  masses  of  hair, 
clambering  swiftly  through  the  almost  impene- 
trable recesses  of  the  wood.  Needless  to  say, 
he  easily  outdistanced  his  pursuers  and  was 
soon  lost  to  view.  And  the  golfers  returned  to 
the  village  pondering  over  what  they  had  seen, 
leaving  the  wild  man  still  at  large. 

Subsequent  to  this  the  strange  visitor  made 
repeated  appearances  in  various  parts ;  for 
instance,  one  man  saw  him  indulging  in  a  siesta 
on  the  banks  of  the  Wye.  Directly  he  noticed 
that  he  was  perceived,  however,  he  retreated  to 
the  friendly  seclusion  of  the  wood.  This  was 
near  the  village  of  Rowsley.  Again,  a  Mr. 
Littlewood,  a  tradesman  of  Bakewell,  surprised 
the  strange  creature  enjoying  a  dip  in  the  waters 
of  the  Wye,  but  again  the  wild  man  betrayed 
that  excess  of  modesty  which  always  seemed  to 
prompt  him   to  seek   safe  asylum  amongst  the 


folia"  e. 


about  it."  Forthwith  he  summoned 
ordinate  and  they  conferred  together,  - 
extracting  as  much  intelligence  from 
their  juvenile  informant  as  their 
astuteness  could  contrive.  It  was 
thus  that  the  police  at  length  inter- 
fered in  an  endeavour  to  rid  Bake- 
well  of  its  unwelcome  wild  man. 

But  that  elusive  and  mysterious 
individual  was  not  to  be  so  easily 
dismissed.  He  even  had  the  effron- 
tery to  pay  a  return  visit  to  the  golf- 
links,  where  he  again  startled  some 
ladies  with  his  meteoric  appearance 
and  incomprehensible  antics.  This 
time  the  terrified  ladies  straightway 
reported  the  matter  to  the  club, 
and  two  gallant  male  members,  one 
the  club  professional,  set  out  in  pur- 
suit. Pushing  into  the  wood,  they 
were  lucky  enough  to  catch  a  good 
view  of  the  mysterious  stranger,  and 
they  gave  chase  as  fast  as  the  numer- 
ous obstacles  would  allow.  They 
noticed  that  the  wild  man  was  now 
bareheaded,  having  probably  lost' 
his  top-hat  in  the  haste  of  his  flight. 
His  streaming  locks  lent  an  added 
weirdness  to  his  appearance. 

Although  the  golfers  exerted  them- 
selves to  the  utmost,  they  failed  to 
overtake  the  fugitive.  He  scaled 
precipitous  slopes  with  almost  super- 


a    sub-         ordinary 


It   was    very   clear   that  he   was    no 
tramp,   for   he    exhibited,  on    various 


HK    EASILY   OUTDISTANCED    HIS    PURSUERS. 


THE    "WILD    MAN"   OF    THE    PEAK. 


<$3 


occasions,  a  strong  predilection  for  water. 
This  was  some  sort  of  consolation  to  the 
Bakewellians,  until  a  local  farmer  dis- 
covered him  taking  his  ablutions  in  the 
reservoir  which  supplies  the  village  with 
water ;  then  they  concluded  that  this 
love  of  cleanliness  had  gone  too  far. 

Each  night  flickering  lights  could  be 
discerned  on  the  highest  points  of  the 
hills — no  doubt  fires  kindled  by  the 
wild  man  for  his  personal  comfort.  The 
police  thoroughly  searched  the  wood  so 
far  as  they  could  and  kept  watch  during 
the  night  hours,  and  were  eventually 
rewarded  by  the  discovery  of  a  rude  hut, 
with  the  cold  ashes  of  a  fire  in  it.  The 
shanty  was  constructed  of  branches  of 
trees  and  bracken,  which  grows  in  great 
profusion  in  these  parts,  and  was  shel- 
tered from  the  wind  by  a  wall  of  stones. 
It  was  in  this  direction  that  the  light 
had  been  first  seen,  but  since  then  fires  had 
been  noticed  much  farther  in  the  wood,  indi- 
cating that  the  wild  man  had  shifted  his 
quarters  to  the  thickest  part.  The  most  rigid 
search,  however,  failed  to  locate  either  the 
man  or  his  camp. 

The   bucolic  mind  is  a  peculiar  thing,  and 


THE    REMAINS   OF    THE    "WILD    MAN'S"    HUT. 

From  a  Photo,  by  IV.  S.  Campbell. 


entertains  -  strange 


ideas  of  a  joke.  On  the 
Sunday,  when  the  hue  and  cry  was  still  fresh, 
the  village  blacksmith  of  Bakewell  wrapped  up 
his  robe  du  nuit  in  a  parcel  and,  quitting  the 
smithy,  made  his  way  into  the  Wicksop  Wood. 
Here  he  put  his  nightshirt  over  his  day  clothes, 

took  off  his  hat,  ruffled  his 
hair,  and  broke  forth  into 
view,  waving  his  arms  and 
gesticulating.  Up  to  this 
point  the  joke  was  emin- 
ently successful,  for  he 
most  effectually  deluded 
the  villagers  into  believing 
he  was  the  genuine  wild 
man,  and  they  pursued 
him.  There  happened  to 
be  .among  the  pursuers 
several  gamekeepers  armed 
with  loaded  guns,  which 
they  had  every  intention 
of  using.  When,  after  a 
lengthy  chase,  they  cor- 
nered their  supposed 
quarry,  one  of  their  num- 
ber dropped  upon  his  knee, 
levelled  his  gun,  and  was 
on  the  point  of  firing  when 
the  identity  of  the  fugitive 
became  apparent,  and  the 
for  the  joker,  was  never 
within  an  ace,  however,  of 
his  own 


trigger, 
pulled. 


fortunately 
He  came 


AFTER  A  LENGTHY  CHASE  THEV  CORNERED 
SUPPOSED  QUARRY." 


being  shot,  and  would  have  had  only 
folly  to  thank  for  the  catastrophe. 

In  spite  of  everything  the  wild  man  was 
never  captured.  The  last  seen  of  him 
was  near  Haddon  Hall.  Who  and  what 
was  he  ? 


*? 


'  mtm  m 


BW»| 


^6  PE£RL-FlSttEr\5  or  CEYL9H 


/  Ma 


£*». 


fel2 


■'■■'l^ilifciiii  - 


- 

?ki2LO  JjAV/. 


A    chatty    description    of  the   Government   pearl  fisheries  of  Ceylon.      Many    years    are    allowed  to 

elapse  between  each  fishing  of  the  same  beds,  but  when  the  appointed  time  arrives  a  fleet  of  vessels, 

an  army  of  divers  and   dealers,  and  a  busy  town  spring  up  almost  in  a  night.     The  element  of  luck 

enters  largely  into  the  industry.      Photographs  by  Andree,  Ceylon. 


YFICAL  of  pearl-fishers  generally, 
and  certainly  conducting  their 
operations  in  the  most  primitive 
style,  the  men  who  wrest  the 
precious  gems  from  the  ocean  beds 
of  the  Ceylon  Government  Fisheries  work  as 
they  worked  ages  ago,  without  the  artificial  aids 
which  have  been  called  in  to  the  assistance  of 
up-to-date  pearlers  at  some  of  the  beds  around 
the  Australian  and  Central  American  coasts. 

Arabs  are  recognised  as  the  best  and  most 
expert  divers  in  the  world,  but  owing  to  their 
quarrelsome,  unruly  natures  they  have  in  Ceylon 
been  to  a  great  extent  supplanted  by  natives, 
many  of  whom  come  from  Kilikarai,  as  the  latter 
are  found  to  be  more  tractable  and  decidedly 
more  peaceable  amongst  themselves. 

Quite  a  considerable  period,  sometimes  from 
ten  to  fifteen  years,  elapses  between  each  fishing 
on  the  same  beds,  but  once  the  appointed  time 
arrives  the  barren,  comparatively  uninhabited 
coast  becomes  as  though  by  magic  the  resort  of 
thousands  of  individuals  of  every  nationality 
under  the  sun,  and  for  the  few  months  or  so 
during  which  each  fishing  lasts  the  scene  beggars 
description. 

It  is  a  fine  spring  morning  and  the  divers  and 
their  mandaks,  or  assistants,  have  left  in  a 
hundred  or  so  stout,  brown-sailed  boats,  and 
away  on  the  horizon  they  can  be  seen  with  sails 
lowered,  each  boat  a  hive  of  busy  toil. 

On  the  deck  of  the  Government  tug  which 


cruises  about  amongst  the  fleet  we  join"  the 
officials  in  watching  the  operations. 

From  the  build  and  rig  of  the  boats  little  can 
be  learnt,  for  they  are  nearly  similar,  although 
those  familiar  with  the  craft  and  crews  will  tell 
you  exactly  the  race  to  which  each  boat-load  of 
workers  belong,  simply  by  some  peculiarity  in 
the  rig  and  cut  of  the  boat. 

As  we  steam  slowly  by  one  of  the  Kilikarai 
boats  the  sides  are  lined  with  mandaks, 
while  the  water  is  broken  every  minute  by 
some  black,  shining  head  and  shoulders  appear- 
ing or  disappearing  in  the  blue  ocean.  These 
men  are  the  more  cautious  divers,  and  facilitate 
their  arrival  at  the  bed  of  the  ocean  by  standing 
on  a  block  of  stone  weighing  about  fourteen 
pounds.  They  also  carry  a  life-line,  with  which 
they  signal  when  they  are  ready  to  be  hauled  up 
with  their  baskets  full  of  pearl  oysters.  Two 
minutes  is  the  average  duration  of  a  dive,  and 
during  this  time  the  expert  piles  dozens  of 
oysters  into  the  wicker  baskets  which  are 
attached  to  his  body,  besides  descending  and 
rising  again  to  the  surface,  so  that  obviously  the 
divers  must  be  marvellously  quick  and  alert  if 
they  are  to  be  successful. 

A  little  farther  on  we  pass  an  Arab  boat  with 
its  array  of  tall,  brawny  divers,  showing  by  far 
the  finer  specimens  of  manhood  and  carrying  on 
their  business  in  a  way  which  stamps  them  as 
daring  almost  to  recklessness.  Some  of  the 
Arabs  scorn  the  use  of  a  stone  to  help  them 


THE    PEARL-FISHERS    OF    CEYLON. 


65 


From  a] 


THE   SCKNE   ON     THE    1'EARLING-bEDS. 


[Photo. 


downwards,  and  dive  from  their  boats  head 
foremost,  with  only  their  hauling-lines  as  means 
of  communication  with  the  surface.  Occasionally 
a  big  Arab  may  be  seen  to  make  a  dive  without 
a  line  of  any  description,  but  this  naturally 
curtails  the  quantity  of  oysters  he  can  bring  to 
the  surface,  as  he  cannot  rise  with  much  weight, 
except  by  being  hauled  up  with  ropes. 

A  popular  idea  is  that  the  divers  run  con- 
siderable risk  of  injury  from  sharks  and  other 
monsters  of  the  deep,  but  this  is  said  by  experts 
to  be  an  entirely  mistaken  notion,  as  very  few 


indeed  suffer  injury  from  this  cause,  much  less 
lose  their  lives. 

Some  of  the  records  of  the  time  which 
these  divers  have  been  known  to  remain  under 
water  are  astounding.  One  Arab  has  been 
credited  on  good  authority  with  staying  six 
minutes  below  the  surface,  from  the  time  he 
disappeared  head  foremost  into  the  ocean  until 
he  reappeared  with  his  load  of  bivalves  ! 

Thus  under  a  glaring  sun,  from  an  ocean 
dotted  with  stout  boats  and  bobbing  black- 
heads, the   precious  oysters  are  gradually  piled 


From  a] 
Vol.  xjv.-9. 


NATIVE   DIVERS  AT   WORK. 


[Photo. 


66 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


1' 10 111   <l\ 


KINGING    THE    PEARL   OYSTERS    ASHORE. 


\rhoto. 


up  on  the  boats  until  about  noon,  when  a  gun 
from  the  Government  boats  warns  the  fleet  that 
the  time  allowed  for  fishing  has  expired,  and  a 
wild  race  takes  place  among  the  boats  to  reach 
the  beach  first.  At  last  even  the  laggards  are 
in,  and  the  beach  becomes  a  screeching  mass  of 
excited  natives,  jostling  each  other  and  shouting 
in  a  hundred  queer  tongues  as  they  carry  the 
oysters  from  the  boats  to  the  Government 
houses  or  compounds,  which  consist  of  long 
huts     or     warehouses     built     of     sticks     and 


covered  with  a  rough  kind  of  thatch.  Here 
the  thousands  of  oysters  are  piled  until  they 
are  formed .  into  a  series  of  gigantic  heaps. 
The  load  brought  in  by  each  boat  must  be  kept 
separate,  for  in  the  coming  allotment  the  pro- 
duct of  the  day's  fishing  will  be  divided  into 
three  equal  piles,  while  the  Government  officials 
will  later  come  round  and  select  any  two  of  the 
heaps  they  may  think  best,  leaving  the  remain- 
ing one  to  be  shared  amongst  the  boat's  crew, 
according  to  custom. 


From  a) 


A   GIGANTIC    HEAP   OF    PEARL   OYSTERS. 


\FHoto. 


THE    PEARL-FISHERS    OF    CEYLON. 


67 


From  a] 


A    STREET 


THE   STRANGE   COSMOPOLITAN    TOWN    THAT   SPRINGS   UP   ALMOST    IN 


[Photo. 


The  beds  which  have  been  drawn  on  have 
been  staked  out  by  means  of  flags,  and  the 
whole  operations  have  been  carried  on  under 
the  strictest  surveillance  by  the  Government 
officials ;  yet  notwithstanding  all  precautions, 
and  the  improbability  of  choice  gems  being 
picked  out  from  amongst  the  thousands  of 
oysters,  there  is  reckoned  to  be  a  considerable 
wastage  in  the  collection  of  these  gems,  as 
there  is  in  the  securing  of  nearly  every  other 
kind  of  valuable  product. 

Remarkable  enough  in  a  way  is  the  fishing  as 


we  have  seen  it,  but  the  mere  bringing  of  the 
oysters  to  the  surface  and  their  landing  fades 
into  absolute  insignificance  in  comparison  with 
the  pearl  town  and  its  population. 

The  gatherings  of  huts  and  enclosures  which 
have  risen  almost  like  mushrooms  on  the  barren 
coast  are  inhabited  by  a  cosmopolitan  crowd, 
the  like  of  which  is  not  to  be  found  else- 
where in  the  world.  Jews,  Arabs,  Indians, 
Persians,  Turks,  Russians  —  in  fact,  every 
nationality  and  colour  is  represented,  while  the 
social  grades  run  the  whole  gamut  from  prac- 


From  a] 


THE   ENCLOSURES   WHERE   THE   OYSTERS   ARE   OPENED, 


[Photo. 


68 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


tically  a  dock-side  labourer  to  the  wily  dealer  in 
gems  or  the  representative  of  some  Eastern 
potentate  who  is  prepared  to  purchase  the 
oysters  in  lots  of  a  million  at  a  time.  So  they 
jostle  each  other  and  herd  together  in  a  manner 
which  only  an  Eastern  crowd  can,  producing  an 
indescribable  atmosphere,  which  becomes  more 
and  more  pronounced  as  the  fishing  season 
wears  on.  Squalid  and  unsavoury  in  the 
extreme  is  this 
strange  mush- 
room city,  but 
Eastern  in  all  its 
aspects  —  colour 
and  brightness 
everywhere  re- 
flected in  a  hun- 
dred tints  in  the 
glaring  sunlight. 

If  the  town  is 
varied  and  the 
nationalities  are 
numberless  the 
types  of  face  and 
form  are  more 
so.  Over  all, 
and  in  continual 
evidence,  strut 
Government 
officials,  and 
num  berless 
policemen    keep 

in  check  the  lawless  spirits  and  the  greed  of 
the  crowd. 

In  the  evening,  after  the  day's  work,  the 
fishers  haggle  and  bargain  and  wrangle  over  the 
rugged  shells,  any  of  which  may  contain  a  gem 
worth  a  king's  ransom  ;  while  evil-looking  natives 
gaze  on  pearls  which  have  fallen  to  their  lucky  lot 
with  the  self-same  gleam  in  their  eyes  as  a  tiger 
displays  when  hugging  the  carcass  of  its  victim. 

At  stated  intervals  the  Government  shares  are 
sold  by  auction  in  much  larger  lots,  and  it  is 
here  that  the  wealthy  dealers  and  representatives 
of  Eastern  princes  buy  "  parcels "  consisting 
sometimes  of  millions  of  the  bivalves. 


THE    PEARL    HERE   SHOWN    \VOULI>     HAVE 

From  a]  its  misshapen 


The  glamour  of  speculation  and  the  charm  of 
luck  overshadow  the  whole  of  the  proceedings. 
Any  heap  of  oysters  may  contain  a  priceless 
gem,  or  a  pearl  which  might  otherwise  have  been 
worth  thousands  may  be  ruined  by  some  almost 
imperceptible  flaw.  Experience  has  taught  that 
the  rugged-shelled  oysters  are  generally  the  most 
likely  to  yield  gems  of  value,  but  the  price  of  a 
pearl  is  governed  by  so  many  details  that  no  one 

can  tell  with  any 
certainty  the 
likely  bivalves. 

Many  of  the 
shells  themselves 
are  worth  a  little 
when  they  are 
evenly  coated 
with  nacre  — 
known  commer- 
ciallyas"  mother- 
of-pearl" — while 
otherwise  price- 
less gems  may  be 
rendered  com- 
paratively worth- 
less owing  to 
their  rugged  and 
peculiar  shape. 
An  instance  of 
this  is  to  be  seen 
in  the  illustration 
herewith.  But  for 
its  misshapen  appearance  the  pearl  shown  might 
have  been  worth  a  fortune. 

A  short  sojourn  amongst  the  Ceylon  pearl- 
fishers  is  the  experience  of  a  lifetime,  and  it 
would  take  a  very  large  volume  to  record  even 
a  tithe  of  the  romances  which  are  part  and 
parcel  of  a  pearler's  life.  Many  a  gem  which 
graces  some  crowned  head  has  a  record  of 
vicissitudes,  fortunes  made  and  unmade,  and 
even  of  lives  sacrificed,  which  in  itself  would 
surprise  anyone  save  those  who  view  with  im- 
movable faces  the  smiles  and  frowns  of  fickle 
Dame  Fortune,  as  exhibited  day  by  day  on  the 
pearl-fishing  grounds. 


BEEN    WORTH 
At'1'EA.RANCE. 


FOR  NJNE    BUT    FOR 

[Photo. 


THE    "  FLYING    DUTCHMAN." 

BEING  SOME  ADVENTURES  OF  CAPTAIN  GUSTAVUS  HANSEN,  SEAL-RAIDER. 

By  J.  Gordon  Smith,  of  Victoria,  B.C. 

The    story  of  a   clever   fraud.       How  Captain  Hansen    turned    prospector   and    hunted    for    nuggets 
instead    of   seals.       Although    he    failed    to   find   gold,   he    nevertheless    devised    an    artful   scheme 

whereby   he   made   much    money. 

III.— THE  "SUCKER  LAKE"  STAMPEDE. 


HEN  Captain  Gustavus  Hansen  left 
the  schooner  Emily  S.  at  Skagway  he 
never  dreamed  that  he  would  join 
that  gold-crazed  horde  which  was 
struggling  over  the  trail,  clamber- 
ing across  the  great  boulders,  and  crawling  past 
the  carcasses  of  dead  horses  in  the  cut  which 
led  over  the  White  Pass,  known  better  as  "  Dead 
Horse  Trail,"  above  which  a  railway  now  runs 
and  looks  down  on  the  trying  track  where  many 
died.  Captain  Hansen  had  been  hunting  seals 
and  otter,  bartering  with  Indians,  raiding  lone 
rookeries,  and  selling  a  mixture,  miscalled 
whisky,  to  natives  whom  a  paternal  Govern- 
ment— which  Hansen  regarded  as  his  natural 
enemy — sought  to  prevent  from  drinking  strong 
waters.  His  success, 
however,  had  been 
poorer  than  usual. 
The  sea  was  full  of 
cutters,  and  raiding 
seemed  a  hopeless 
effort. 

The  Govern- 
ments were  begin- 
ning to  interfere 
too  much  with  such 
cruises  as  those  he 
had  made.  There- 
fore, when  the  gold 
siren  called,  he  left 
the  schooner  with 
Long  Murray  with 
less  compunction 
than  he  would 
once  have  felt,  and 
trailed  on  behind 
the  stampeders,  a 
bag  of  flour,  a 
piece  of  bacon, 
a  bottle  of  rum, 
and  a  spade  strap- 
ped to  his  back. 
Following  the  cur- 
rent, he  found 
himself  in  Atlin,  the 
scene  of  the  latest 


HE   PUNCHED   THE   SWEDE  S    HEAD   WHEN    HE   COMPLAINED   OF 
THE   TRANSACTION," 


gold  find  since  Carmack's  discovery  on  the 
Klondike  had  enticed  hordes  to  the  grim  north- 
land,  where  men  froze  in  winter  and  were  food 
for  ravenous  mosquitoes  in  summer.  He  was 
achieving  little  better  success  as  a  gold-seeker 
than  he  had  on  the  Emily  S.,  which  Long 
Murray  had  meanwhile  taken  across  to  the 
Siberian  coast  to  hunt,  raid,  or  baiter — anything 
to  make  a  profit  for  the  owners  and  the  crew. 
Hansen  wandered  up  and  down  the  creeks, 
trying  "pans"  here  and  there  without  getting 
more  than  a  "  colour."  He  had  swindled  an 
unfortunate  Swede  into  buying  a  claim  winch 
had  not  even  a  "  colour  "  on  it,  and  punched 
the  Swede's  head  when  he  complained  of  the 
transaction  ;  but  he  was  a  failure  as  a  gold- 
seeker,  having 
chased  a  will-o'-the- 
wisp  on  dozens  of 
stampedes  to  no- 
where. Yet  he  got 
money,  if  he  didn't 
get  gold.  Hence 
this  tale. 

When  Fritz  Miller 
took  his  first  clean- 
up from  his  claim, 
No.  i  above,  on 
Pine  Creek,  old 
Demers  had  started 
a  store  on  the  lake 
front  at  a  spot 
which  later  became 
Atlin  City,  a  mush- 
room town  which 
grew  quickly  about 
Demers's  place. 
Demers  had  been 
following  the  gold 
rushes  since  men 
first  went  to  the 
upper  waters  of  the 
Eraser,  forty  years 
ago,  and  he  knew 
the  goods  that 
miners  needed. 
This   made   him  a 


7o 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


successful  storekeeper,  but  when  he  built  a  store  * 
at  a  lake  a  hundred  miles  to  the  north-west  of 
Atlin,  a  sheet  of  water  which  the  miners  called 
"  Sucker  Lake "  on  his  account,  he  had  not 
acted  with  his  usual  good  sense.  He  had  fol- 
lowed the  advice  of  Carrie,  his  Indian  wife,  who 
had  told  him  tales  of  golden  creeks  converging 
at  the  lake.  Dreaming  of  another  camp  there 
the  old  French  half-breed  had  started  a  store, 
well  equipped  with  flour  and  a  goodly  supply  of 
the  goods  which  miners  barter  their  gold  for. 

But  "  Sucker  Lake  "  remained  a  wilderness, 
and  the  store  and  its  contents  had  been  bar- 
ricaded for  months.  In  mining  parlance  it  was 
"a  dead  horse."  Therefore,  when  Captain 
Hansen  offered  a  few  hundred  dollars  for  the 
establishment — many  times  less  than  what  it 
cost,  for  the  goods  had  all  to  be  carried  inland 
on  men's  backs — Demers  thought  he  was  doing 
well  in  finding  anyone  who 
was  fool  enough  to  give  much 
for  the  place.  The  old  store- 
keeper had  long  since  given 
up  all  hope  of  being  able  to 
do  anything  at  "Sucker 
Lake,"  and  had  beaten  the 
unfortunate  Carrie  for  giving 
the  information  which  in- 
duced him  to  establish  the 
place.  Therefore,  when 
Hansen  proffered  the  few 
hundred  dollars — part  of  the 
money  the  Swede  had  given 
him  for  the  worthless  claim 
—  he  was  promptly  made 
owner  of  the  store.  At  Atlin 
the  miners,  hearing  that  some 
stranger  had  bought  the  place, 
called  him  a  fool  for  a  couple 
of  days,  and  then  forgot  all 
about  the  affair  in  the  excite- 
ment of  a  new  stampede. 
And  the  store  at  "Sucker 
Lake  "  remained  barred. 

Later  in  the  spring  the 
community  learned  why  the 
"  Flying  1  Hitchman  "  had 
purchased  the  store,  and  in- 
stead of  calling  him  a  fool 
called  him  a  rogue.  It  is 
still  dangerous  to  speak  of 
the  matter  to  some  men  in 
Atlin.  In  the  springtime 
the  miner's  fancy  turns  to 
thoughts  of  stampedes — and 
this  spring  was  no  exception. 
There  had  been  a  stampede 
to    the    upper     reaches     of 


Spruce  Creek,  a  night  stampede  through 
muddy,  scrub-clad  plains  and  over  rolling 
hills  to  McKee  Creek,  and  the  camp  was  very 
excited.  Every  man  who  showed  a  "  poke " 
or  a  "colour"  of  dust  was  followed  all  over  the 
camp  throughout  the  district ;  his  every  move- 
ment was  reported  to  a  waiting  throng.  Every- 
body was  on  the  quivive.  Therefore,  when  an  old 
chap  who  had  "  prospector "  written  all  over 
him  from  his  "  muckluks  "  of  salmon  skin  to  his 
wide-brimmed  hat,  began  to  show  coarse  gold 
and  pretty  nuggets  in  the  bar  of  Demers's 
place,  he  was  soon  the  object  of  attention. 

"  Vere  is  dot  blace?"  he  would  reply,  when 
asked  where  he  had  got  the  gold  ;  "  veil,  dot's 
delling." 

The  more  mysterious  he  became  the  more 
interested  were  the  miners.  His  every  move- 
ment was  watched.      He  went  off  to    a  trout 


* 


THE   MORE   MYSTERIOUS    HE    BECAME   THE    MORE    INTERESTED  WERE   THE   MINERS.' 


THE    "FLYING    DUTCHMAN. 


7i 


riffle  two  miles  tip  the  creek,  and  forty  or  more 
promptly  followed  him  ;  no  matter  where  he 
went  he  had  would-be  stampeders  on  his  heels. 
For  he  had  hinted  of  rich  creeks,  streams  whose 
banks  and  side-hills  were  filled  with  gold,  and 
the  stampede  fever  was  on  the  community.  It 
was  the  stampede  season.  Therefore,  when  he 
bought  a  sack  of  flour  and  started  off  into  the 
timber,  eager  men  followed  quickly  on  his  heels  ; 
canoes  carried  messages  up  and  down  the  creek, 
and  all  Pine  Creek  learned  quickly  that  the  old 
man  had  started. 

A  day  later  everybody  knew  that  he  had 
returned,  having  made  a  circle  and  come  back 
to  the  camp.  That,  of  course,  was  because  he 
saw  that  a  stampede  was  on  his  heels.  The 
espionage  on  his  movements  became  closer 
than  ever ;  sentries  were  posted  to  watch  his 
cabin  at  night  and  to  keep  watch  and  report 
his  every  movement.  One  morning  before  sun- 
rise the  watchers  gave  the  alarm.  The  old 
fellow  had  started  and  was  travelling  light  ! 
The  find,  whose  location  he  seemed  to  be  so 
diffident  about  revealing,  could  not  be  far  away 
— for  he  carried  little  food.  Therefore,  few 
thought  it  worth  while  to  wake  up  old  Derners 
and  fill  their  packs.  A  piece  of  bacon  and  a 
little  flour  were  sufficient,  for  the  old  man  was 


ing  along  the  edges  of  creeks  that  rush  over 
flats  and  stones  with  trout  riffles  in  back  eddies  ; 
clambering  through  gorges  and  struggling 
through  close-packed  underbrush.  But  when 
one  dreams  of  gilded  creeks  and  nuggets  that 
shine  in  the  ooze  of  the  pan  of  sand  he 
does  not  heed  the  hardships  of  the  way ;  and 
the  stampeders  struggled  doggedly  on.  A 
mining  stampede  is  a  wild  scramble,  in  which 
the  selfish  instincts  of  men  rule,  and  this  rush 
was  no  exception. 

The  old  man  was  not  travelling  fast,  and  the 
miners  could  easily  keep  in  touch  with  him, 
resting  when  he  rested,  camping  for  meals  when 
he  camped,  and  sleeping  when  he  slept.  So  the 
stampede  was  not  so  bad  as  some  of  the  mad 
rushes  that  had  taken  place  when  men  travelled 
night  and  day  and  fought  for  places  before  the 
recorder's  office  on  their  return.  Yet  it  had  its 
distressing  features.  When  one  carries  food  for 
one  day  and  he  has  been  three  days  on  the  trail 
there  is  a  distinct  gnawing  beneath  the  waist- 
coat, a  void  that  aches.  But  gold,  and  the 
clamour  for  gold,  is  a  wonderful  incentive  to 
buoy  up  men  on  the  trail  and  make  the  weary 
man  forget  his  fatigue  and  the  starving  forget 
his  hunger. 

When  the  stomach  is  unfed  the  temper  suffers 


FOR  VY  YOU  HUOS  A  GUN  IN  MINE  FACE,  VAT? 


not  carrying  more  ;  and  all  followed  on  the  trail, 
travelling  light. 

Travel  in  the  northland  is  travel  in  the  fullest 
sense  of  the  word.  One  staggers  over  twining 
roots  and  boulders  on  an  undefined  trail,  wind- 


and  men's  spirits  change.  This  was  why  some 
of  the  more  desperate  stampeders  went  on,  over- 
took the  old  man,  and  held  him  up  at  the  point 
of  a  revolver.  He  had  been  seemingly  uncon- 
scious of  his  following — at  least,  it  seemed  so  to 


72 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


those  who  followed— and  he  affected  surprise 
when  he  was  confronted  by  the  man  with  the 
revolver. 

"For  vy  you  puds  a  gun  in  mine  face,  vat?" 
he  asked  them  ;  and  they  told  him,  with  many 
adjectives,  that  they  would  shoot  unless  he  told 
them  how  far  away  the  creek  was. 

"  Vat  greek  ?  "  inquired  the  old  Dutchman ; 
"I'm  nod  goin'  to  no  greek." 

"  Well,  where  did  you  get  the  gold  you  was 
a-flashing  at  Demers's  place,"  asked  one  of  the 
throng. 

"  Dot's  my  pusiness,"  he  replied,  ignoring  the 
fact  that  the  barrel  of  a  revolver  was  opposite 
his  nose.  "  Who  asged  you  to  gome  to  my 
gamp  ?  " 

There  was  something  in  that  ;  they  had  come 
without  invitation,  and  when  the  old  man  told 
them  he  was  bound  to  a  camp  he  had  made  a 
day's  journey  farther  on,  they  ate  their  remaining 
atoms  of  food  and  staggered  on  behind  when 
the>  old  prospector  resumed  the  journey.  By 
nightfall  next  day  some  three  hundred  famished, 
worn-out  men,  disgusted  and  angry,  staggered 
into  a  log-house  on  the  water  front  at  "  Sucker 
Lake."  The  old  Dutchman  they  had  followed 
had  disappeared.  No  one  saw  which  way  he 
went — and  they  would  have  to  give  up  the 
chase.  He  had  outwitted  them  and  gone  off  to 
his  goldfields  alone.  So,  tired,  foot-sore,  and 
hungry,  they  all  camped  at  the  store  on  the  lake 
front ;  there  was  food  there.  The  log-cabin 
had  been  barred  for  months  ;  weeds  had  grown 
up  in  the  paths  ;  but  now  the  doors  were  thrown 
wide  open  and  three  men  stood  behind  the 
counter. 

The  miners  were,  however,  not  in  a  condition 


to  bother  about  the  significance  of  these  things. 
They  were  all  famished,  and  here  were  pro- 
visions—bags of  flour  and  rows  of  canned  meats, 
very  tempting  to  empty  stomachs.  It  did  not 
matter  if  the  price  was  high,  even  though  it 
was  three  times  the  price  which  ruled  at  Atlin. 
Hungry  men  must  have  provisions,  and  they 
must  have  supplies  for  the  journey  home — for 
there  was  no  gold  at  "  Sucker  Lake."  They 
almost  fought  for  places  at  the  counter,  and  bid 
up  the  prices  recklessly  because  of  a  startling 
rumour  which  someone  had  spread  that  the 
supply  was  inadequate  for  the  whole  throng. 
By  morning  the  shelves  were  empty,  and  when 
his  hired  men  turned  in  their  takings  Captain 
Hansen— who,  of  course,  had  discreetly  kept  out 
of  sight — had  many  times  the  price  he  had  paid 
for  the  store.  He  didn't  care  if  the  miners 
were  angry  ;  no  one  had  invited  them  to  come  to 
"  Sucker  Lake,"  anyhow.  But  it  was  fortunate 
for  him  that  they  did  come — and  also  that 
they  didn't  know  till  afterwards  that  he  and 
the  elusive  old  Dutch  prospector  were  one  and 
the  same  person. 

Several  months  later  the  Emily  S.  came 
in  to  Juneau,  and  Long  Murray  reported  pro- 
gress to  Hansen,  who  had  been  sitting  day  by 
day  in  the  bar-room  of  the  Green  Light, 
drinking  rum  and  waiting  for  his  vessel.  The 
schooner  had  a  cargo  of  whalebone  and  many 
furs,  and  the  tale  of  the  getting  would  give  an 
air  of  truth  to  Kipling's  rhyme  that  "  There  is 
no  law  of  God  or  man  to  the  north  of  fifty- 
three."  But  Murray  was  quite  willing  to  con- 
cede that  Hansen  had  beaten  him  in  the  race 
for  the  goods  of  others. 


Tlie  "  Flying  Dutchman 's  "  last  adventure  will  appear  next  month. 


How    two     novices     set    out    on    a    rubber  -  collecting     expedition    in    the     dense    forests    of 

Central    America,    and    the   exciting   experiences    they   met    with.      The   moral  of  Mr.  Cater's 

stirring   narrative    appears    to    be    that    in  the  wilds  it  is  not    advisable  to  trust  a  man  farther 

than  you  can    see  him,  and  not  always  so  far  as  that. 


> 


T  occurred  in  the  Central  American 
Republic  of  Honduras.  Rumour 
had  it  that  the  upper  reaches  of  the 
Patuca  River  were  almost  entirely 
unexploited,  while  we  —  my  tem- 
porary partner,  Anson,  and  myself — had  it  that 
the  region  indicated  simply  teemed  with  rubber. 
So  thither  we  had  journeyed,  for  rubber  at  the 
time  was  fetching  fabulous  prices. 

We  pitched  our  first  camp  on  the  river  bank 
at  a  distance  of  about  forty-five  miles  from  the 
coast.  It  consisted  of  the  usual  palm-thatched 
ramadas — one  for  ourselves  and  another  for  our 
crew  of  rubber-cutters— and  the  building  of 
these  was  but  a  matter  of  an  hour  or  so.  One 
day  sufficed  to  convince  us  that  we  had  come 
to  the  right  spot,  and  at  the  close  of  it 
we  were  pardonably  jubilant.  Rubber  trees 
abounded  in  quite  extensive  patches,  and  none 
of  them  appeared  to  have  been  "  tapped " 
before. 

"Guess  we've  struck  oil  this  time,  partner," 
said  Anson  to  me,  and  I  readily  agreed.  Nor 
were  our  mozos  less  jubilant,  for,  in  addition  to 
a  monthly  wage,  each  man  was  entitled  to  a 
premium  of  two  pesos,  or  native  dollars,  for 
every  hundredweight  of  rubber  he  brought  into 

camp,  and   the"  foresaw  a  splendid  and   easy 
Vol.  xiv.— 10. 


harvest.  Often,  after  finding  and  tapping  a 
cluster  of  trees,  the  cutters  have  to  tramp  three 
or  four  miles  through  the  dense  forest,  and  occa- 
sionally even  twice  that  distance,  before  they 
come  upon  another,  and  then  they  must  pass 
the  night  wherever  sunset  finds  them.  But  in 
this  case  the  patches  of  Castilloas  were  suffi- 
ciently frequent  and  extensive  to  keep  us  busy 
for  many  days,  and  within  easy  walking  distance 
of  the  river,  so  that  our  cutters  were  able  to 
return  each  evening  to  the  camp  and  com- 
parative comfort. 

Our  "crew"  consisted  of  ten  men — nine 
Caribs  and  an  Indian  whose  name  was  Diego 
Casco.  Had  we  known  that  the  latter  was  an 
"undesirable,"  it  goes  without  saying  that  he 
would  never  have  entered  our  service ;  but  we 
didn't.  Everybody  else  seemed  aware  of  it— 
in  fact,  it  was  generally  admitted  that  of 
cunning  thieves,  lazy  vagabonds,  and  out-and- 
out  scoundrels,  there  was  none  to  beat  Diego 
for  miles  around.  But  we,  in  our  ignorance 
and  precipitation,  mistook  him  for  an  honest 
man,  and  gave  him  an  honest  man's  chances — 
engaging  him  to  complete  our  crew.  In  the 
selection  of  such  a  staff  one  requires  to  exercise 
considerable  caution,  but  at  that  time  both 
Anson  and  myself  were  novices  and  unacquainted 


74 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


with  the  fact  that  a  "  patron  "  is  very  much  at  the 
mercy  of  his  crew.  We  proposed  staying  in 
the  bush  for  at  least  three  months,  and  in 
that  space  of  time  much  may  happen.  Any 
merchant  in  the  country  will  readily  purchase 
rubber  without  asking  awkward  questions  ;  while 
the  stuff  itself  is  sufficiently  valuable  to  tempt 
the  weak.  Should  one's  crew  mutiny,  therefore, 
there  is  little  chance  of  outside  aid  when  the 
nearest  settlement  is  fifty  miles  or  more  away. 

Our  first  insight  into  Diego's  character  came 
on  the  third  day  after  we  had  taken  to  land. 
We  rationed  our  men,  as  is  the  custom  in  such 
cases,  and,  as  rations  go  in  Central  America, 
we  were  very  liberal.  We  provided  everything 
the  men  could  wish  for 
excepting  meat,  and  that 
the  native  labourer  never 
expects.  Our  only  pro- 
vision in  this  direction  was 
to  appoint  one  of  our  crew 
as  "  camp  hunter,"  and 
supply  him  with  a  smooth- 
bore and  ammunition.  The 
men  took  it  in  turns  to 
scour  the  bush  for  game, 
and,  since  deer,  armadillos, 
guatusos,  wild  boar,  tur- 
keys, and  native  pheasants 
abounded,  the  hunter  sel- 
dom returned  empty- 
handed  ;  but,  failing  fresh 
meat,  our  mozos  had  to  do 
without,  while  Anson  and 
I  fell  back  upon  our  re- 
serve of  tinned  meats. 

When  it  came  to  Diego's 
turn  to  play  the  hunter  it 
appears  that,  instead  of 
seeking  game,  he  idly 
passed  the  day  in  some 
neighbouring  arbour,  re- 
turning to  camp  with  an 
empty  bag  just  before  sun- 
down. I  was  abroad  with  the  cutters  that 
day  and  had  not  yet  returned,  but  Anson, 
who  had  remained  on  duty  in  camp,  met  the 
Indian  as  he  returned,  gun  in  hand,  and 
evidently  in  a  very  sulky  mood. 

"  Well,  Diego,  what  luck  ?  "  he  inquired,  in  a 
pleasant  way. 

"None  at  all,"  was  Diego's  muttered  reply. 
"  Didn't  look  for  any,  either,"  he  added. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  demanded  Anson. 
"  Surely  you  haven't  been  shirking  the  easiest 
job  in  the  camp." 

"  I  ain't  done  no  huntin',  anyway.  And 
what's  more  I  don't  intend  to  do  any,"  he 
answered.      "  Besides,"    he    continued,    "  why 


THE  AUTHOR,  MR.  ROWLAND  W.  CATER. 

From  a  Photo,   by  Mitchell  &■=  Cooper,   Hull. 


should  I  tramp  my  feet  off  huntin'  for  meat 
when  you've  got  cases  full  of  it  here,  an'  all 
ready  for  eatin'?" 

"  That's  our  private  store,  my  man,"  retorted 
Anson,  rather  hotly ;  "  and  it's  a  bit  too  costly 
to  make  it  common  fare." 

"  Well,  I  reckon  we'd  ought  to  share  it,  too," 
growled  the  Indian. 

"Oh,  do  you?"  came  from  my  partner. 
"  And,  pray,  how  often  do  '  patrons  '  furnish  a 
meat  diet?  Why,  even  when  you're  at  home 
I'll  warrant  you  get  none." 

Diego  smiled  wickedly,  and  toyed  with  his 
gun.  "  I  know  I  don't,  an'  that's  why,  when  I 
see  it  lying  around  here  in  plenty,  I   mean  to 

have    some,"    was    his    im- 
pertinent reply. 

"  Mean  to,  eh  ?  "  howled 
Anson,  who  now  saw  what 
the  fellow  was  driving  at, 
and  was  simply  astounded 
at  his  cheek.  "  Aren't  you 
flying  rather  high,  Diego?" 
he  queried,  rather  caustic- 
ally, but  a  derisive  grunt 
was  all  that  the  Indian 
vouchsafed  by  way  of  reply. 
"  Anyway,  if  you  take 
my  advice,  you  will  not 
forget  yourself,  or  I  may  be 
forced  to  strong  measures," 
urged  Anson,  whose  con- 
trol of  his  temper  was  truly 
creditable. 

"  Bah  !  What  could  you 
do?"  rejoined  the  Indian. 
"  See — I  have  you  nicely 
covered,"  he  continued, 
nonchalantly.  And,  suiting 
the  action  to  the  word,  he 
raised  the  gun  to  his 
shoulder  and,  screwing  up 
one  eye,  glanced  along  the 
barrel  in  a  very  ugly  fashion 
with  the  other.  Whether  the  native  really 
intended  to  shoot  at  Anson  or  no  is  still  an 
open  question,  but  shoot  he  did,  for  Anson — 
naturally  alarmed  at  Diego's  action — instinctively 
put  his  hand  to  his  hip  for  his  revolver  and  — 
well,  that  did  it ! 

Considering  that  scarcely  ten  paces  separated 
them,  it  is  little  short  of  marvellous  that  my 
partner  was  not  blown  to  pieees.  Instead, 
however,  one  tiny  shot  alone  reached  him, 
lodging  in  his  forearm  and  causing  quite  a 
minor  wound.  With  a  savage  howl  he  rushed 
towards  the  Indian  just  as  I  arrived  upon  the 
scene  with  the  nine  Caribs,  fortunately  in  time 
to   prevent   further   trouble.      Diego  was   soon 


BUYING    EXPERIENCE. 


75 


overpowered  and  disarmed,  and,  precaution 
being  the  better  part  of  valour,  we  had  him 
bound  and  deposited  in  his  quarters,  for  other- 
wise he  would  be  likely  to  pay  us  a  surprise 
visit  during  the  night. 

Serious  as  it  was  we  nevertheless  soon  forgot 
the  incident,  for  the  next  morning,  just  as  we 
were  sitting  down  to  our  five  o'clock  breakfast, 
two  of  the  Caribs,  struggling  beneath  the  weight 
of  the  stalwart  miscreant,  put  in  an  appearance 
at  the  entrance  to  our  hut.  They  had  brought 
the  Indian  thither  at  his  own  request,  and, 
standing  there  in  front  of  us  and  looking  rather 
sheepish,  he  asked  our  pardon  for  his  mis- 
behaviour of  the  previous  evening.  His  excuse 
was  a  very  lame  one — more  like  adding  insult  to 
injury  —  for  he  confessed  to  having  com- 
mandeered a  bottle  of  our  "  fine  old  rye,"  which 
he  had  consumed  single-handed  during  the 
day,  the  result  being  that  he  was  quite  irre- 
sponsible on  returning  to  camp  in  the  evening. 
We  forgave  him,  however,  and  decided  to  forget 
the  affair,  merely  resolving  to  keep  a  closer  eye 
upon  our  stores  in  the  future  and  to  see  that 
Diego  was  never  again  permitted  to  handle 
firearms. 

A  week  went  by,  and  our  luck  still  lasted. 
The  men  returned  each  evening  with  as  much 
rubber  as  they  could  well  carry ;  and  had  we 
decided  to  terminate  our  expedition  there  and 
then  and  sell  off  our  produce  at  current 
market  prices  the  result  would  have  been 
highly  satisfactory  to  all  concerned.  But  it 
was  far  too  good  a  thing  to  leave,  and  we 
resolved  to  continue  not  only  for  the  stipu- 
lated three  months,  but  just  as  long  as  the 
supply  of  rubber  lasted. 

On  the  twelfth  day  we  deemed  it  advisable 
to  abandon  our  first  camp  and,  travelling 
farther  up  stream,  commence  operations  upon 
a  new  site,  for  by  that  time  the  near  supply  of 
the  precious  goma  was  exhausted,  and  our  men 
had  to  tramp  too  far  afield  to  enable  them  to 
return  by  sunset.  It  was  no  easy  job  moving, 
for  altogether  we  must  then  have  possessed 
about  sixteen  or  seventeen  hundredweight  of 
rubber,  represented  by  some  fifty-five  or  sixty 
bales ;  and  those  which  we  could  not  accom- 
modate in  the  boats  we  had  to  tow  behind 
us  as  we  pulled  up  stream. 

Eventually  it  became  necessary  to  dispatch 
someone  to  the  nearest  settlement  for  a  fresh 
supply  of  provisions,  and,  although  we  had  not 
mentioned  it  to  him  yet,  we  had  decided  to 
utilize  Diego  for  that  purpose,  while  in  our  own 
minds  the  start  was  fixed  for  the  following 
Sunday. 

A  few  nights  before,  however,  the  mozo 
whose  duty  it  was  to  trim   the  camp  lanterns 


and  let  down  our  mosquito  nets  foolishly  left 
my  net  opened,  with  the  result  that  I  found  it 
simply  swarming  with  the  little  tormentors  when 
I  turned  in.  Two  or  three  times  I  arose  and 
endeavoured  to  whisk  them  all  out  with  a  towel, 
but  it  was  useless — invariably  a  few  of  the  more 
wide-awake  ones  retired  unseen  to  the  corners 
to  return  to  business  again  immediately  I  lay 
down  anew — so  I  decided  to  try  and  smoke 
them  out.  Rising  once  more  I  found  my  pipe, 
after  a  great  deal  of  groping,  and  charged  it ; 
then,  not  wishing  to  disturb  Anson  by  striking 
a  match  within  our  little  apartment,  I  stepped 
just  outside  the  ramada,  clad  only  in  top  boots 
and  pyjamas. 

On  reaching  the  open  I  at  once  observed  a 
light  gleaming  through  the  trees  in  the  direction 
of  the  mozos1  camp,  which  was  situated  some 
forty  or  fifty  yards  farther  along  the  bank.  It 
seemed  strange  that  anyone  should  be  astir  at 
that  hour.  Mosquitoes  know  from  experience 
that  they  have  little  chance  of  penetrating  the 
tough' hides  of  the  Caribs,  and  thus  they  seldom 
worry  them  as  they  do  the  white  man,  and  never 
sufficiently  to  disturb  them  in  their  slumber. 
Nor  could  I  find  any  other  explanation  of  this 
vigil,  so  the  only  remedy  was  to  creep  round  to 
the  men's  quarters  and  investigate  for  myself. 

This  I  did,  and  from  my  hiding-place  beneath 
the  trees  saw  that  the  marauders  were  Diego  Casco 
and  one  of  the  Caribs.  The  scoundrels,  think- 
ing that  we  were  fast  asleep,  were  carrying  bale 
after  bale  of  rubber  to  the  boats,  evidently  with 
the  intention  of  making  off  with  a  goodly  portion 
before  sunrise. 

"  Tonto  "  (fool)  Diego  observed  to  his  com- 
panion as  he  helped  him  to  shoulder  a  good- 
sized  bale  of  the  precious  stuff;  "of  course  we 
must  take  them  both  or  they'll  be  after  us  in  the 
one  we  leave  behind."  These  words  gave  me  a 
further  clue.  Besides  the  rubber,  both  boats  were 
going,  so  that  we  should  not  be  able  to  give 
chase ;  and  thus,  with  little  more  than  one 
week's  provisions,  my  partner  and  I,  with  the 
remainder  of  our  crew,  were  to  be  left  in  the 
bush,  "fifty  miles  from  anywhere"  as  Anson 
sometimes  put  it,  to  look  out  for  ourselves  as 
best  we  could.  The  plot  seemed  to  have 
originated  with  Diego,  and  under  his  instructions 
the  Carib  was  aiding  him  so  rapidly  in  the 
carrying  out  that  the  promptest  action  alone 
could  save  the  situation. 

My  first  thought  was  to  spring  at  the  rogues 
there  and  then,  but  a  second  one  restrained  me 
and  told  me  that,  unarmed  as  I  was,  it  would 
scarcely  be  wise  to  tackle  the  twain  single- 
handed.  I  considered  myself  a  match  for  any 
of  the  Caribs  in  camp,  but  Diego— well,  that 
was   quite   another   matter.      The  former  were 


76 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


docile  for  the  most  part  and  of  quite  ordinary 
stature,  whereas  Diego  was  an  Indian,  reckless 
to  a  degree  and  a  veritable  giant. 

At  all  events  I  must  warn  Anson,  I  reflected, 
and  straightway  started  off  towards  the  ramada, 
going  as  cautiously  as  I  could.  It  seems,  how- 
ever, that  in  spite  of  my  caution  I  had  been 
discovered,  for,  the  sudden  snapping  of  twigs 
behind  prompting  me  to  glance  over  my 
shoulder,  I 
wheeled  round 
just  in  time  to 
face  Diego's 
confederate. 

"  What  does 
this  mean,  Bart?" 
I  queried. 

"It  mean, 
Boss,  dat  we 
doan  got  no  mo' 
use  for  you  at 
presen',''  was  his 
impertinent      re- 


Struggling  to  my  feet  I  made  my  way  round  to 
our  hut,  shouting  as  loudly  as  1  was  able  as  I 
went,  and  it  was  not  long  before  one  of  the 
Caribs  answered  my  call. 

I  wasted  no  words  when  he  reached  my  side. 
"  Rouse  all  the  camp,"  I  yelled,  excitedly,  and 
as  he  ran  off  to  do  my  bidding  I  rushed  breath- 
lessly into  our  own  apartment.  Anson  yawned 
and  rubbed   his  eyes  with   his  knuckles  as  he 


'TRIPPING   OVER    A    SAPLING    BEHIND    HIM. 
HE   FELL    UPON    HIS    BACK." 


sponse  ;  and  with  the  last  word  he  rushed  at 
me,  aiming  a  nasty  blow  at  my  head  with  a 
cudgel.  Stepping  aside  just  in  time  to  avoid 
the  blow,  with  a  lucky  shot  from  my  right  I  sent 
him  reeling  backwards  and,  tripping  over  a 
sapling  behind  him,  he  fell  upon  his  back. 

I  lost  no  time  in  springing  upon  him  and 
pinning  him  to  the  ground,  but  my  advantage 
was  short-lived,  for  a  moment  afterwards  I  myself 
lay  beside  him.  Diego  Casco  had  come  to  his 
confederate's  assistance  and,  creeping  up  in  the 
rear,  had  felled  me  with  an  unexpected  and 
terrific  blow  upon  the  head.  The  blow  stunned 
me  at  once — the  usual  panorama  of  stars  follow- 
ing it  and  then  a  long  blank. 

Somewhere  in  the  neighbourhood  of  an  hour 
afterwards  I  regained  consciousness.  Gradually 
everything  came  back  to  me,  and,  not  doubting 
that  Casco  and  his  companion  were  then  well 
on  their  way  down-stream,  I  inwardly  congratu- 
lated myself  upon  the  fact  that  they  had  done 
me  no  further  injury  ere  leaving. 

The    first    thing    was    to    arouse  the  camp. 


tried  to  take  in  all  I  was  telling  him.  "Come 
off — you're  gaming,"  he  remarked,  incredulously 
at  first ;  but  as  soon  as  I  succeeded  in  con- 
vincing him  that  it  was  no  fairy  tale  he  was  up 
and  wide-awake  in  a  moment. 

"  Both  boats  gone,  right  enough,"  he  ejacu- 
lated, as  we  reached  the  river  bank,  "  and  about 
a  third  of  our  rubber."  Then,  with  that  resource 
peculiar  to  our  Yankee  cousins,  he  set  about 
discovering  the  next  best  thing  to  a  boat. 

"  Gee-oshua's  ghost  ! '  'he  suddenly  exclaimed, 
with  delight,  "  if  the  varmints  ain't  overlooked 
some  of  the  paddles  !  That's  good  !  Now  for 
the  boat,"  he  added.  Nor  was  he  long  in 
making  clear  his  intention,  and  in  putting  all 
hands  to  work  dismantling  the  ramada  and 
carrying  to  the  waterside  the  canes  of  which  it 
was  built.  "  It  would  take  too  long  to  cut  fresh 
ones,"  he  gasped,  and  further  explained  how  he 
intended  to  fashion  a  raft  of  the  canes  and  some 
bales  of  the  remaining  rubber,  for  few  products 
are  more  buoyant  than  the  latter  when  in  the 
crude  state. 


BUYING    EXPERIENCE. 


77 


The  canes  were  crossed  and  lashed  closely 
together,  and  the  flooring  thus  made  was  firmly 
secured  over  eight  large  bales  of  rubber,  the 
result  being  a  splendid  raft  which  had  taken  not 
more  than  twenty-five  minutes  in  all  to  make  ; 
and  half  an  hour  from  the  time  I  had  come  to 
my  senses  found  me,  with  Anson  and  three  of 
our  strongest  paddlers,  starting  on  our  chase. 

We  paddled  for  hours  without  a  stop,  and  it 
would  be  difficult  indeed  to  describe  our  excite- 
ment. The  anxiety  with  which  we  scanned  the 
river  ahead  as  we  rounded  each  bend  was 
almost  painful,  and  at  one  time  Anson  came 
very  near  firing  at  a  huge  log  anchored  in  the 
middle  of  the  stream 
(for  he  had  not  forgot- 
ten our  little  armoury), 
and  I  must  confess 
that  at  first  sight  it 
did  look  rather  like  a 
boat  in  the  distance. 


bend  and  revealed  two  boats  moored  by  the 
river  bank  some  few  hundred  yards  ahead. 

"  Make  a  bee-line  for  the  bank— quick,  ye 
varmints,"  squealed  the  American,  excitedly, 
"and  hitch  on  to  yon  tree  overhangin'  the 
water." 

We  were  not  long  in  carrying  out  these  in- 
structions and,  having  done  so,  he  and  I 
quickly  jumped  ashore. 

"  Come  on.  We'll  creep  upon  them  from  the 
land  side,"  said  Anson,  and,  addressing  the 
Caribs  on  the  raft,  he  added,  "You  fellows  will 
drift  down  to  where  the  boats  are  and  get  into 
conversation  with  the  rascals.     Spin  'em  a  good 


"on  and  on  we  pulled,  hoping  to  come  upon  the  fugitives  at  eyeky  turn." 


On  and  on  we  pulled,  hoping  to  come  upon 
the  fugitives  at  every  turn,  but  up  to  two  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon  we  had  not  sighted  them. 

Shortly  after  that  hour,  however,  as  we  turned 
a  bend,  hugging  the  shore  as  closely  as  possible 
in  order  to  waste  no  time,  Anson  gave  a  sudden 
start.  "  Hailstones  !  "  he  whispered.  "  If  that 
weren't  a  nigger's  laugh  I  jist  heard,  my  name 
ain't  Curly  Anson  no  more." 

As  matters  turned  out,  no  change  of  name  on 
Anson's  part  was  necessary,  for  a  moment  or 
two  later  we  all  heard  an  unmistakable  laugh  not 
very  far  away,  and,  moreover,  a  few  more  strokes 
of  the  paddles  brought  us   to  the  head  of  the 


yarn,  an'  we'll  do  the  rest.  Now,  off  with 
you  ! " 

The  big  American  simply  chuckled  with 
delight  as  we  threaded  our  way  quietly  through 
the  forest,  and  every  now  and  then  pulled  at  his 
belt  to  make  sure  that  his  six-shooter  was  handy. 
"  Say,  partner,"  he  laughed,  "  I  guess  this  is  the 
longest  journey  we've  ever  made  in  pyjamas, 
but  it's  big  game  we're  after,  an'  don't  you  forget 
it.     Sport  in  the  Rockies  ain't  in  it  with  this." 

The  raft  and  its  occupants  naturally  travelled 
faster  than  we  did  and  thus  reached  the  ren- 
dezvous first,  although  even  when  we  armed 
the  thieves  had  not  yet  noticed   them  ;  and  as 


7« 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


we  took  up  our  positions  behind  two  huge  trees 
another  hideous  guffaw  rang  in  our  ears,  while 
we  could  see  not  only  the  scoundrel  who  uttered 
it,  but  the  scene  which  provoked  it. 

What    we    saw    was    the     missing    Carib  — 
Bart61ome,  the  thief— on    his  knees,  earnestly 
pleading  for  his   life,  while  Diego  Casco  stood 
over    him    with   a   cruel-looking 
knife. 

"  No,   no,   amigo,"  the   latter 
was  saying,  "  I  can  do  the  rest  of 
the  journey  by  myself.     You've 
answered  my  purpose, 
an'    its    safer    to    put 
you  out  of  the  way." 
The    Indian    giggled 
as  he  said   this,  and 
continued  :    "  Safer — 
yes,  an'  cheaper,  too, 
for    it's  little   I'd  get 
out  of  this  haul  if  I 
had  to  split  the  rub- 
ber with  you." 

"Ah,  Diegito," 
wailed  the  trembling 
Carib,  "if  it  is  the 
rubber  you're  fretting 
about  you  can  have  it 
all  —  but  only  spare 
my  life.  Surely  you 
wouldn't  have  murder 
on  your  soul?" 

"Dios!  Another 
life  or  two  won't  worry 
me,"  was  the  reply, 
followed  by  a  broad 
grin.  "  You  do  make 
me  laugh,"  the  Indian 
added.  "Fancy  you, 
after     all     the     bold 

deeds  you  have  boasted  of,  down  there  on  your 
knees  pleadin'  for  mercy  like  some  helpless 
child. 

"  But  time's  up,"  he  grunted,  suddenly,  and 
the  smile  which  he  had  worn  a  moment  ago 
gave  place  to  a  horribly  fiendish  expression  as 
he  raised  his  knife  ready  for  the  blow  which  was 
intended  to  rid  him  at  once  of  his  confederate 
and  a  possible  witness  against  him. 

The  blow  never  fell,  however,  for  at  that 
moment  theCaribs  upon  the  raft  hailed  the 
would-be  murderer,  who  was  so  startled  by  the 
unexpected  salute  that  he  seemed  to  be  quite 
dazed  for  a  while,  and  stood  there  gazing 
vacantly  towards  the  river.  But  he  was  not 
long  in  regaining  his  composure,  and  a  few 
seconds  later  darted  to  the  water's  edge,  sprang 


V. 


DIEGO  CASCO  STOOD  OVEK  HIM 


upon  the  raft,  and  prepared  to  hack  its  occupants 
to  pieces.  Simultaneously  Anson  and  I  ran 
from  our  cover  and,  rushing  past  the  runaway 
Carib,  followed  Diego  to  the  raft. 

"  I've  got  a  mighty  fine  bead  on  you,  sonny," 

roared  my  partner,   as  he  covered  the   raving 

Indian   with    his     trusty    Colt  ;    "so    ye'd    be 

wiser  to  drop  that  knife  an' 

give  up." 

"  Mil     diablos  !  "      That 
was  the  reply  the  scoundrel 
flung   at   us,    and   at   once 
the   last    sentence   he   ever 
uttered ;  for  on  seeing  that 
we   had    cornered    him    he 
dived    headlong   into 
he   river  and  — well, 
there  is  a  great  deal 
of    soft   mud   at  t  he 
bottom  of  the  Patuca 
in    places,   and   huge 
boulders    hidden   be- 
neath   the    water    in 
v      others,  with  innumer- 
\       able   alligators,   occa- 
sional sharks,  and  no 
end    of    strong    cur- 
rents ;   so  that  in  the 
absence   of   evidence 
it    would     amount 
merely     to     specula- 
tion   were    I    to    at- 
tempt an  explanation 
as   to   why   he  never 
came   to  the   surface 
again. 

That     is    how    we 

recovered    a     goodly 

with  a  cruel-looking  knife."        portion  of  our  stolen 

rubber. 
And    now   for    the    sequel,    although    I   am 
tempted  to  omit  it,  since  the  "joke,"  if  such  it 
may  be  termed,  was  distinctly  against  us. 

Delighted  with  the  success  of  our  chase,  we 
shook  hands  with  ourselves  and  each  other  all 
the  way  back  to  ramp,  journeying  throughout 
the  night  instead  of  resting,  and  landing  there 
early  the  next  morning.  Then  came  the  hardest 
blow  of  all — the  five  men  we  had  left  in  charge 
had  disappeared,  and  so  had  the  remainder 
of  our  rubber !  Evidently  taking  a  leaf  from 
Anson's  book,  they  had  fashioned  a  raft  similar 
to  his,  followed  us  closely  down  stream,  passed 
us  under  cover  of  night,  and  probably  by  the 
time  we  discovered  the  loss  had  disposed  of 
their  ill-gotten  gains  and  reached  a  safe  hiding- 
place  ! 


j^gpf  BAHPrns" 


sWAftoiric-^  ■=.! 


.,or"(MlCA(jO 


How  a  band  of    youthful    criminals    launched    forth  on  a  career  of  bloodshed,  and    for   months  waged 

a  relentless  war    against    society.      Their  terrible  doings  caused  a  regular   reign  of  terror  in  Chicago, 

but  finally,  after  a  series  of  exciting  episodes,  the  outlaws  were  run  to  earth. 


Chicago. 


ARLY  on  the  morning  of  August 
30th,  1903,  occurred  the  sanguinary 
climax  of  as  audacious  and  merciless 
a  series  of  outrages  as  ever  blackened 
the  records  of  the  great  city  of 
Three  boy  outlaws,  already  steeped 
crime  and   murder,  walked   into  the 


deeply  in 

car-barns  of  the  Chicago  City  Railway  Company 
at  Sixty-first  and  State  Streets,  and  "  held  up  " 
the  office  of  the  cashier  for  the  night's  earnings 
of  the  company.  In  so  doing  they  murdered 
two  men  and  wounded  two  others,  but  for  that 
they     cared    nothing,    since    they    themselves 


escaped  temporarily  without  detection, 
very  boldness  of  the  crime  committed  in 
the  heart  of  a  city  of  two  million  popu- 
lation, and  the  callous  recklessness 
which  produced  such  unnecessarily 
fatal  results,  would  of  themselves  have 
sufficed  to  strike  horror  into  the  citi- 
zens ;  but  when  it  is  added  to  this  that 
there  had  preceded  it  a  series  of  hold- 
ups extending  over  several  months  and 
involving  several  deaths,  it  may  be  con- 
ceived that  Chicago  promptly  woke  up 
and  demanded  justice  on  the  perpetra- 
tors. The  people  wanted  to  know  what 
the  police  were  going  to  do  about  it, 
and  the  police  accordingly  strained 
every  nerve  to  find  the  guilty  bandits. 
They  remembered  that  holdup  after 
hold-up  had  occurred  in  the  past 
few  months  without  anybody  being 
punished.  Nor  did  the  highwaymen 
leave  any  clue  by  which  they  might  be 
traced.  They  vanished  into  the  night, 
and  that  was  the  last  of  them. 

The  story  of  these  hold-ups  was 
always  the  same — some  unsuspecting 
men  at  work  or  taking  their  ease  ;  the 
sudden  appearance  of  three  boyish 
desperadoes  ;  a  shot  or  two  to  break 
the  silence  of  the  night ;  and  another 
murder  to  be  added  to  the  list  of  Chi- 
cago's crimes.  Within  three  months  no 
fewer  than  eight  men  had  died  to  the 
sound  of  cracking  revolvers  in  the  hands 


The 


of  these  downy-faced  youths,  and  at  least  half-a- 
dozen  others  carried  the  scars  of  wounds.  Otto 
Bauder,  Adolph  Johnson,  and  B.  C.  La  Crosse 
were  murdered  in  different  saloon  hold-ups,  and 
Peter  Gorski  was  shot  down  during  an  attack 
on  his  establishment.  To  vary  the  monotony, 
T.  W.  Lathrop,  agent  for  the  Chicago  and 
North -Western  Railway,  was  wounded  during 
an  attack  on  Clybourn  Junction,  the  station  at 
which  he  was  agent.  In  nearly  every  case  the 
shooting' was  wanton,  as  it  was  quite  unnecessary 
to  proceed  so  fat  to  secure  the  booty.  One 
curious  feature  of  the  case  is  the  very  small 
amount  obtained  by  the  robbers.     The  death  of 


"A    REVOLVER   CRACKED   AND   STEWART   FELL 


8o 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


one  saloon-keeper  netted  them  only  two  dollars 
thirty-five  cents.  At  the  next  hold-up  they  did 
somewhat  better,  since  they  bagged  two  men 
and  got  fourteen  dollars  from  each  of  them. 
At  this  rate  they  could  make  more  money  by 
honest  labour,  and  they  decided  to  go  after 
something  big.     The  car-barn  robbery  followed. 

It  was  in   the  small   hours  of   the  night  of 
August   30th    that    the   dramatic   finale   to   this 
series  of  outrages  was  enacted. 
The  employes  in  the  cashier's 
office  of  the  railway  company 
were  busy  balancing  the  re- 
ceipts of  the  night.    The  last 
conductor    had    just    turned 
over    his     money 
and  left  the  barn. 
Suddenly    sinister 
shadows    fell     on 
the   floor,    and 
Frank  Stewart,  the 
assistant   clerk    in 
the  office,   looked 
up  in  surprise.    An 
instant  later  a  re- 
volver cracked  and 
Stewart  fell,  fatally 
wounded.    Almost 
instantly    Henry 
Biehl,    another 
clerk,    dropped 
from    his    stool 
wounded    in    the 
head,  and  William 
B.    Edmond    was 
struck  in  the  thigh. 
In  an  inner  room 
lay   Motorman    J. 
E.  Johnson,  asleep. 
He  was  awakened 
by   the    sound  of 
firing  just  in  time 
to  meet  his  death. 
Then  the   bandits 

broke  open  the  cashier's  desk  with  a 
sledge-hammer  and  took  from  it  two 
thousand  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  in 
silver  and  bills.  Thirty  minutes  later  the 
youthful  outlaws  were  sitting  in  the  under- 
brush of  Jackson  Park  waiting  for  the  day  to 
bring  light  enough  to  divide  the  plunder.  Then 
they  calmly  boarded  a  street-car  and  rode  over  to 
the  West  Side,  reading  in  the  early  morning  news- 
papers the  account  of  their  exploit.  For  weeks 
not  a  car  left  the  barns  that  did  not  bear  in  big 
letters  a  notice  offering  a  reward  of  five  thousand 
dollars  for  the  capture  of  the  murderers. 

For  a   long  time  the  police  found   not  the 
slightest  clue  to  the  identity  of  the  criminals. 


In  the  office  exploded  cartridges  proved  that 
automatic  revolvers  had  been  used.  The  same 
kind  of  shells  had  been  found  at  the  scene  of 
several  of  the  other  hold-ups,  and  since  this 
weapon  was  new  to  the  highwayman  industry  the 
police  naturally  concluded  that  the  same  persons 
were  responsible  for  all  the  crimes. 

Then  out  of  the  clear  sky  came  the  thunder- 
bolt   of    discovery.      A     young     man     named 

Gustave  Marx,  who 
had  been  drinking 
heavily  of  late,  showed 
an  automatic  revolver 
and  boasted  that  the 
police  could  not  take 
him  alive.  Chief  of 
Police  O'Neil  detailed 
Detectives  Quinn  and 
Blaul  to  arrest  Marx. 
At  a  saloon  which 
he  frequented  they 
found  this  young 
man.  He  was 
quiet,  self-con- 
tained, and  quite 
master  of  himself. 
Apparently  he  had 
nothing  to  conceal 
from  the  world, 
but  when  the 
detectives  stated 
their  mission  his 
true  nature  flared 
out.  There  was 
•  a  sudden  gleam  of 
steel,  a  flash,  a 
report,  and  Detec- 
tive Quinn  pitched 
forward  in  his 
tracks,  dead.  Blaul 
was  saved  only  by 
a  hitch  in  the 
working  of  the 
weapon.  Before 
Marx  could  right 
the  defect  in  the 
mechanism  Blaul 
was  grappling 
with  him  for  dear 
life.  Assistance  came  to  the  detective,  and 
he  succeeded  in  securing  his  man.  In  Marx 
the  police  felt  confident  they  had  secured  one  of 
the  murderous  gang  of  bandits  who  had 
terrorized  Chicago  for  many  months. 

It  had  been  understood  among  the  band  that 
if  any  member  of  the  gang  were  caught  the  rest 
were  to  dynamite  the  prison  to  secure  his  escape. 
Marx  waited  for  a  few  days,  expecting  his 
comrades  to  attempt  to  rescue  him.     It  appears 


:.AU1.    WAS   (JRAI'PI.ING    WITH    HIM    FOR 
DEAR    LIFE." 


THE    "BOY    BANDITS"    OF    CHICAGO. 


81 


that  such  a  rescue  was  intended.  According  to 
Peter  Niedemier,  the  chief  of  the  gang,  the 
attempt  was  planned.  When  the  fewest  men 
were  known  to  be  about  the  station  the  outlaws 
were  to  walk  in  at  the  front  door,  kill  the  man 
at  the  desk  and  any  other  officers  who  happened 
to  be  in  the  way,  and  then  take  the  keys  from 
the  gaol-keeper  or  blow  off  the  lock  with 
dynamite.  But  Marx  did  not  know  about 
this.  He  grew  moody  and  bitter  because  he 
alone  had  been  captured,  and  concluded  that 
his  accomplices  had  deserted  him.  Perhaps  in 
pique,  perhaps  in  fear,  he  blurted  out  the  full 
story  of  the  car-barn  robbery  and 
murder. 

Meanwhile  his  comrades,  Peter 
Niedemier,  Harvey  Van  Dine,  and 
Emil  Roeski,  of  whom  the  former 
was  leader  of  the  gang  and  the 
latter  a  weak  youth  whom  they  had 
lately  got  to  join  them,  had  been 
haunting  the  home  of  Detective 
Blaul,  whom  they  had  decided  to 
kill  in  revenge  for  the  capture  of 
their  comrade.  Fortunately  for  him- 
self, however,  the  officer  happened 
to  be  out  of  town. 

The  outlaws  devised  several  futile 
plans  to  rescue  Marx,  but,  learning 
suddenly  that  he  had  made  a  con- 
fession to  the  police,  sought  safety 
in  flight.  It  shows  the  desperate 
nature  of  these  young  ruffians,  not 
one  of  whom  was  over  twenty-three, 
that  they  waited  in  Chicago  for 
weeks,  though  they  knew  that  the 
entire  police  force  was  hunting  high 
and  low  for  them. 

Word  came  to  the  authorities  at 
last  that  Van  Dine  and  Niedemier 
had  been  seen  at  a  grocery  store  at 
Clark,  Indiana,  where  they  had  gone 
to  buy  provisions.  Immediately  the 
officers  were  rushed  to  the  scene, 
seven  policemen  arriving  at  Clark 
from  Chicago  on  a  Friday  morning. 
They  were  met  by  H.  F.  Reichers, 
who  had  reported  the  clue,  and  who 
had  tracked  the  trio  secretly  to 
the  "  dug-out "  where  they  were 
hiding. 

The  position  of  the  besieged  was 
an  excellent  one  for  defence.  The 
country  was  very  rough,  sandy,  and  broken,  and 
dotted  at  intervals  with  gravel-pits.  Further- 
more, the  hut  was  on  a  hill-top,  so  that  it  com- 
manded the  approach  from  the  railroad  embank- 
ment below.  It  was  up  this  incline  that  the 
police  had  to  charge.     The  officers  advanced  in 

Vol.  xiv.— 11. 


a  circle,  guided  by  Reichers,  and  were  allowed 
to  get  so  near  that  they  thought  the  robbers 
had  escaped.  Driscoll,  one  of  the  detectives, 
picked  up  a  stick  and  flung  it  playfully  at  the  hut. 
There  came  a  flash,  a  sharp  report,  and  Driscoll 
fell  forward.  At  the  same  instant  Roeski  ap- 
peared at  the  door,  and  was  ordered  to  surrender. 
He  darted  back  into  the  cave,  and  promptly  the 
magazine  guns  of  the  bandits  began  to  volley  at 
the  officers.  Concealing  themselves  behind  trees 
and  bushes  as  best  they  could,  the  police  returned 
the  fire.  Suddenly,  through  the  smoke,  two  men 
ran  crouchins;    from   the    "du^-out."      One   of 


HE   RETREATED   SLOWLY,    STEP    BY    STEP. 


them,  Emil  Roeski,  sped  away  in  flight,  but 
Harvey  Van  Dine,  the  second  outlaw,  was 
made  of  different  stuff.  He  had  been  a  soldier 
in  Cuba  and  seen  service  in  the  Philippines.  He 
retreated  slowly,  step  by  step,  keeping  up  a 
withering  fire  meanwhile. 


82 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


A  minute  later  Niedemier  emerged  from  the 
hut  and  fatally  wounded  Driscoll.  The  two 
young  desperadoes  were  not  in  the  least  excited 
by  the  firing,  but  backed  away  toward  the  tracks 
of  the  Michigan  Central  Railway,  the  revolvers 
in  each  of  their  hands  speaking  steadily.  Detec- 
tive Zimmer  exposed  himself  slightly,  and  Van 
Dine  shot  him  through  the  arm.  Before  he  fell 
to  the  ground  another  bullet  from  Van  Dine's 
revolver  had  entered  his  head. 

With  one  dying  man  on  their 
hands  and  one  very  seriously 
wounded,  the  police  were  in  no 
condition  to  give  immediate  pur- 
suit to  the  robbers.  Van  Dine 
and  Niedemier  had  flung  them- 
selves flat  on  the  railroad  track 
and  were  keeping  up  a  steady 
revolver  fire,  but  presently  they 
retreated  with  the  honours  of  the 
day.  Roeski,  unnerved  and 
wounded,  could  hardly  drag  him- 
self after  his  leaders.  He  was 
oppressed  by  the  fear  that  they 
would  murder  him  in  order  to 
get  rid  of  him,  and  he  took  the 


PETER   NIEDEMIER,    THE    LEADER 
GANG. 


The  fugitives,  driven  to  extremity,  decided  to 
seize  the  train  and  escape.  They  sprang  boldly 
into  the  cab  of  the  engine,  where  they  found 
Fireman  Frank  Coffey,  the  engineer  being  absent 
at  the  time.  Brakeman  Sovea  crawled  over  the 
tender  in  an  attempt  to  warn  Coffey  before 
the  outlaws  should  reach  him.  He  arrived  just 
in  time  to  confront  Niedemier's  revolver.  The 
outlaw  leader  commanded  him  to  throw  the 
switch.  The  daring  brakeman 
refused  to  do  so  and  grappled 
with  him  instead,  trying  to  wrest 
the  pistol  from  his  hand. 

"  The  man  doesn't  live  who 
can  take  a  gun  from  me,"  said 
Niedemier,  coolly,  and  killed 
Sovea  instantly. 

The  unfortunate  man  pitched 
head-first  out  of  the  cab  with  a 
bullet  in  his  brain,  while  the 
terrified  Coffey  uncoupled  the 
engine  from  the  train  and  flung 
open  the  lever  on  a  wild  run 
for  Liverpool.  A  few  hundred 
yards  away  in  the  woods  were 
a  number  of  armed  farmers  who 


'1      ; 


,  ■      ; 


GUSTAVE  MARX,  THE  FIRST  TO  HE  CAPTURED  AND 
WHO   MADE   A   CONFESSION   TO   THE    POLICE. 
From] 


"V 


HARVEY  VAN  DINE,  WHO  SERVED  AS  A 
SOLDIER    IN    THE   PHILIPPINES. 

THE    FOUR    "BOY    BANDITS." 


EMIL  ROESKI,   A  WEAK-MINDED  YOUTH   WHO 
WAS    INDUCED   TO  JOIN    THE   BANDITS. 

[Photos. 


first  chance  to  slip  away  into  a  cornfield  by 
himself.  From  here  he  retreated  toward  Tolle- 
ston,  Indiana,  to  which  point  he  was  traced  by 
five  citizens.  They  found  him  in  the  Wabash 
Station  at  Etna,  lying  unarmed  and  asleep,  and 
without  any  trouble  captured  him  and  sent  him 
to  Chicago. 

Directly  the  result  of  the  skirmish  became 
known  fifty  policemen,  armed  with  rifles,  were 
rushed  to  the  front  on  a  special  train,  and 
the  man-hunt  was  renewed.  Van  Dine  and 
Niedemier  had  cut  across  country  for  a  mile 
till  they  reached  the  tracks  of  the  Pennsylvania 
Railway.  Here  on  the  side-track  lay  a  switch- 
engine,    with   a   train   of  cars   attached    to   it. 


had  heard  of  the  escape  and  were  out  to  cut  off 
the  fugitives.  They  reached  Tolleston  about 
noon,  just  as  the  engine  dashed  past  them. 
Some  of  them  ran  across  the  plain  to  a  curve  of 
the  road,  which  swings  round  at  this  point,  and 
reached  a  locked  switch,  just  closed  by  tele- 
graphic order  to  stop  the  stolen  engine.  Here 
Fireman  Coffey  stopped  the  engine  of  necessity, 
but  the  bandits,  with  ready  resource,  forced  him 
to  run  it  back  for  a  mile  along  the  track  which 
they  had  just  traversed.  There  the  fugitives 
leaped  to  the  ground  and  took  to  a  swamp. 

But  they  could  not  escape  from  their  pursuers. 
Hundreds  of  men  were  now  out  after  them, 
and  they  were  trapped  like  wild  beasts.     Even 


THE    "BOY    BANDITS"    OF    CHICAGO. 


83 


as  they  fled  a  band  of  rabbit-hunters  caught 
sight  of  them  crossing  a  fence  into  a  cornfield. 
The  sportsmen  turned  loose  a  volley  of  bird- 
shot  upon  the  weary  refugees.  It  caught 
Niedemier  full  in  the  face,  while  Van  Dine  also 
received  his  share  in  the  hands,  face,  and  throat. 
The  country  was  rough,  and  the  outlaws  were 
weary  to  the  point  of  exhaustion.  It  was  easy 
for  the  officers  and  farmers  to  track  them 
through  the  new-fallen  Snow. 

"The  game's  up,"  said  the  leader,  and  Van 
Dine  nodded  a  surly  assent ;  but  for  some  time 
they  continued  to  exchange  a  rapid  fire  with 
the  enemy. 

"There's  no  use  killing  any  more  of  those 
fellows.     Let's  give  up,"  said  Niedemier. 

The  two  emerged  from  the  cornfield  and  sur- 
rendered. Chained  wrist  to  wrist,  their  hair 
matted  with  dried  blood,  their  eyes  haggard  and 
their  faces  pallid,  these  two  beardless  outlaws 
were  put  aboard  a  train  for  Chicago.  That 
night    they   sat    before    Mayor    Harrison    and 


there's  no  use  killing  any  more  of  those  fellows,  let's  give  up,' said  niedemier. 


Chief  of  Police  O'Neil,  calmly  confessing  their 
share  in  the  four  months'  war  which  they  had 
just  finished  waging  against  society.  Marx  and 
Niedemier,  posing  as  desperadoes  of  the  worst 
kind,  even  confessed  to  murders  which  they  did 
not  commit.  Yet  it  is  probable  that  Niedemier, 
as  a  boy  of  fifteen,  shot  a  detective  in  Ontario 
for  ordering  him  from  the  top  of  a  freight  train. 

These  curious  criminal  types  offer  a  strange 
study.  They  appear  to  have  come  by  their 
lawlessness  legitimately,  so  to  speak,  lor  the 
father  of  Van  Dine  is  a  fugitive  in  Mexico  and 
Marx's  father  is  in  prison.  Entirely  without 
moral  instincts,  these  degenerates  spoke  of  kill- 
ing men  as  callously  as  other  youths  of  their  age 
speak  of  shooting  rabbits.  Van  Dine  was  an 
excellent  engineer,  while  Marx  was  a  painter  by 
trade.  But  the  fascination  of  criminal  life 
allured  them.  As  Van  Dine  phrased  it,  "I  wanted 
something  exciting  ;  something  with  'ginger' in 
it.  That's  all  there  is  to  it."  Their  nerve 
stayed  with  them  till  the  last.  They  were  tried, 
and  the  three  leaders  were  con- 
demned to  be  hanged,  their 
tool,  Roeski,  receiving  a  life 
sentence.  A  few  days  before 
the  date  set  for  the  execution 
Peter  Niedemier  made  two  de- 
liberate attempts  to  commit 
suicide.  For  weeks  he  had 
been  borrowing  and  saving 
matches.  He  swallowed  the 
phosphorus  of  which  the  heads 
were  made,  and  then  proceeded 
to  sever  an  artery  in  his  left 
wrist.  He  had  boasted  that  he 
would  never  die  on  the  gallows, 
and  he  did  his  best  to  keep  his 
word.  But  in  this  he  did  not 
succeed.  Too  weak  to  walk, 
he  was  carried  to  the  scaffold 
in  a  chair.  Gustave  Marx, 
Harvey  Van  Dine,  and  Peter 
Niedemier  were  executed  on 
Friday,  April  22nd,  1904.  They 
left  an  appalling  record  of 
bloodshed  behind  them.  At 
their  merciless  hands  Otto 
Bauder,  Adolph  Johnson,  Ben- 
jamin C.  La  Crosse,  J.  E. 
Johnson,  Frank  Stewart,  John 
Quinn,  J.  D.  Driscoll,  and  John 
Sovea  suffered  death,  and  many 
others  were  badly  wounded. 
Including  themselves  eleven 
lives  have  been  sacrificed  to 
pay  the  penalty  of  their  wild 
attempt  to  disregard  the  laws 
of  society. 


THE    TWENTIETH  =  CENTURY    RAFT. 

By  Franklin   Hayes. 

Illustrations  from  Photographs  by  J.   L.  Ford,  Portland,   Oregon. 

One  of  the  marvels  of  the  century  is  the  cigar-shaped  log-raft  of  the  Pacific  Coast.  It  is  made 
in  the  forests  of  the  great  North-West,  and  floated  on  river  and  ocean  to  port,  where  it  is  broken 
up  and  sold.  These  rafts  are  the  product  of  a  year's  work,  and  are  often  longer  than  the  biggest 
ocean   liner.     In   this  article  Mr.  Hayes  describes  how  these  leviathans  are.constructed.  and  gives 

some  facts  concerning  their  size. 


HE  business  of  taking  timber  to 
market  is  performed  in  many 
different  ways.  In  places  where 
the  trade  is  not  pursued  on  a  large 
scale  the  forest-cut  timber,  hauled 
from  the  forests  to  a  convenient  river,  is  there 
laid  flat  upon  the  water  and  navigated  down  the 
stream  to  its  destination.  This  is  what  you  see 
on  the  tributaries  of  the  Rhine  and  in  Europe 
general'}-.  On  the  Vistula  the  logs  are  trimmed, 
and  when  bound  together  in  a  large,  fiat  raft,  with 
habitations  on  top  in  which  the  navigators  live, 
start  off  on  their  long  voyage.  On  the  St. 
Lawrence  huge  rafts  formed  of  smaller  sections 
known  as  "cribs"  are  towed  or  guided  down 
the  rapids  by  steamboats.  Other  rafts  of 
smaller  size  have  sails  upon  them,  and  are 
almost  as  easily  managed  as  a  boat.  The 
difference  in  the  methods  is  due  to  varying 
conditions  and  the  natural  difficulties  which 
Nature  places  in  the  path  of  the  lumberman. 

The  modern  tendency,  as  might  be  expected, 
is  in  the  direction  of  in- 
creasing the  size  of  rafts. 
The  problem  which  from 
early  times  has  con- 
fronted the  raft  -  maker 
has  been  to  get  his  timber 
from  forest  to  town  as 
expeditiously,  inexpen- 
sively, and  safely  as 
possible.  The  more  he 
takes  at  one  time  the 
more  his  expenses  de- 
crease, and,  although  the 
risk  in  monster  rafts  is 
greater  than  in  smaller 
ones,  he  is  usually  able 
to  get  sufficient  insur- 
ance to  cover  a  possible 
loss  from  wind  and 
wave.  Therefore  the 
modern  raft-builder  con- 
ceives and  carries  out 
projects  in  raft-construc- 
tion which  a  hundred 
— nay,  twenty -five — years 


ago  would  have  caused  an  old-time  lumberman 
to  open  his  eyes  in  wonder. 

Even  those  familiar  with  ordinary  modern 
rafts  will  be  amazed  at  the  latest  development 
of  the  trade— the  famous  cigar-shaped  rafts  of 
the  Pacific  Coast.  Some  few  people  have  been 
privileged  to  see  these  leviathans  in  course  of 
construction,  and  to  them  the  series'  of  photo- 
graphs in  this  article  will  recall  one  of  the  most 
interesting  and  impressive  sights  to  be  seen  in 
the  forest  world.  The  great  majority  of  people, 
however,  are  ignorant  that  such  things  exist, 
except,  perhaps,  from  stray  reports  in  the  Press 
of  drifting  timber  from  broken  rafts,  which 
forms  an  ever-present  peril  to  navigation. 

.  A  running  glance  at  the  pictures  will  show 
that  the  cigar-shaped  raft  is  no  baby,  but  a  full- 
grown  thing ;  that  it  has  in  it  more  feet  of 
timber  than  could  be  estimated  in  a  month  of 
thought ;  that  each  trunk  in  its  huge  body  is  a 
future  spar  for  an  ocean-going  craft,  and  that 
mighty  pinions  hold  in  leash  its  giant  strength. 


From  a] 


rHE   GREAT   CRADLE    IN    WHICH   THE   RAFT   IS   CONSTRUCTED. 


[Photo. 


THE    TWENTIETH-CENTURY    RAFT. 


35 


In  one  sense  only  is  it  like  a  baby,  for  it  may  be 
said  to  begin  its  life  in  a  cradle — a  cradle  well 
fitted  to  hold  such  a  giant  child.  Near  to  the 
forest  wnere  the  trees  are  felled  it  is  built  on 
the  edge  of  the  river,  a  long  series  of  half- 
circles  of  wood  securely  bolted  together  and 
held  in  place  by  strong  ribs  of  well-seasoned 
growth.  At  first  the  structure  appears  to  be 
the  skeleton  frame  of  a  great  ship,  but  closer 
inspection  shows  the  ingenious  arrangement  by 
which  the  framework,  when  lowered  in  the  water, 
may  be  separated  into  two  parts.  The  ribs  are 
dovetailed  together  so  dexterously  that,  although 
the  cradle  is  capable  of  bearing  enormous 
weight  as  it  gradually  sinks,  the  ribs  can  at  the 
proper  time  be  released  from  each  other  by 
means  of  key-pins.  To  build  such  a  cradle  is 
the  largest  of  the  initial  expenses  which  the  raft- 
maker  has  to  meet,  but  once  built  it  remains, 
barring  accidents,  as  the  permanent  receptacle 
of  the  rafts.  It  is  anchored  to  a  row  of  piles 
by  means  of  so-called  "anchor-boxes,"  end 
sufficient  play  is  given  to  allow  the  frame  to 
rise  and  fall  with  the  tide. 

The  first  photograph  reproduced  gives  a  good 
view  of  this  gigantic  cradle,  showing  where  the 
two  parts  are  joined  together,  as  well  as  a  group 
of  lumbermen  in  readiness  to  start  upon  their 
lengthy  labours.  For  it  is  no  mere  child's  play 
to  build  one  of  these  monsters.  A  raft  a  year 
is  about  the  average  rate  of  production,  although 
some  have  been  turned  out  in  the  short  space 
of  eight  months. 

It  was  in  1887  that  the  first  cigar-shaped  raft 
was  built.  In  form  it 
resembled  somewhat 
the  raft  here  de- 
scribed, but  differed 
from  it  in  that  it  was 
built  on  shore  and 
not  in  a  cradle  on  the 
water.  Its  construc- 
tion and  later  history 
taught  the  inventor, 
Mr.  Hugh  R.  Robert- 
son,  of  St.  John,  New 
Brunswick,  many 
valuable  lessons. 
Over  five  hundred 
and  sixty  feet  long, 
with  a  depth  of 
thirty-five  feet,  it  took 
several  months  to 
construct,  and,  rest- 
ing obliquely  on  the 
shore  on  timber  foun- 
dations, was  launched 
with  considerable 
difficulty.     It  was 


taken  in  tow  from  Joggins,  Nova  Scotia,  where 
it  was  built,  and  came  to  grief  in  an  Atlantic 
storm.  The  hawser  by  which  it  was  being  towed 
was  snapped  by  the  waves,  and  the  huge  logs, 
separating  when  the  raft  burst,  were  scattered 
far  and  wide.  Another  raft  was  quickly  built 
and  taken  a  distance  of  seven  hundred  miles  in 
ten  days.  The  inventor  made  a  fortune  out 
of  it,  sold  his  rights  for  the  Eastern  coast,  and 
made  his  way  to  the  Pacific.  Here  he  put  into 
practice  the  lessons  he  had  learned,  and  is  to- 
day the  most  successful  raft-maker  in  the  West. 

The  floating  cradle  was  the  first  of  his  im- 
provements, and  no  other  is  now  used.  The 
logs,  hauled  from  the  forest  to  the  shore,  are 
laid  carefully  on  encircling  chains  along  the 
bottom  of  the  cradle,  hoisted  and  dropped  into 
it.  by  a  donkey-engine.  Gradually,  but  slowly. 
the  base  of  the  cradle  becomes  covered,  the  logs 
being  carefully  arranged  for  the  sake  of  com- 
pactness, and,  as  the  number  grows  in  height, 
the  cradle  sinks  in  the  water.  From  the 
beginning  the  raft  assumes  a  semi-circular  shape, 
tapering  towards  each  end  like  a  cigar.  When 
the  raft  is  completed  the  top  of  the  cradle  is  on 
a  level  with  the  water,  with  the  deck  of  the  raft 
about  ten  feet  above  it. 

It  needs,  of  course,  strong  chains  to  hold  such 
an  immense  mass  of  timber  together.  A  main 
chain,  made  of  iron  links  nearly  two  inches  in 
circumference,  runs  fore  and  aft  through  its 
centre.  At  right  angles  to  the  main  chain,  and 
at  intervals  of  about  twelve  feet,  are  smaller 
cross   chains.     Connected  with  the  main  chain. 


THE    RAFT    IN    n 

From  a\ 


:radi.e,  showing 


THE   GREAT   CHAINS   WHICH    HOLD   THE   ENORMOUS 
TOGETHER. 


S  OF    LOGS 

[Photo. 


86 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


IHK  RAFT  HEADY  FUR.  SEA — U.\E  SIDE  OK  THE  CRADLE  HAS  BEFN  KE 
From  a]  CLEAR  OK  THE  OTHER  PART. 

these  run  to  each  side  of  the  raft,  and  are  there 
secured  to  the  encircling  chains,  which  can  be 
plainly  seen  in  some  of  the  illustrations.  All 
the  chains  are  so  joined  to  the  central  chain 
that  when  the  raft  is  being  towed  the  strain  on  the 
main  chain  bears  equally  on  all  parts  of  the  raft. 
At  each  end  of  the  structure  is  a  bulkhead  of 
heavy  timber,  kept  firmly  in  place  by  strong 
steel  cables.  These  bulkheads,  however,  are 
not  shown  in  our  illustrations,  because  in  the 
finished  raft  only 

that    small    por-  £. 

tion  is  visible 
which  is  out  of 
the  water. 

As  the  cigar- 
shaped  rafts  vary 
in  size,  approxi- 
mate figures  only 
can  be  given  to 
suggest  how  big 
these  monsters 
really  are.  One 
of  the  first  rafts 
built  by_  Messrs. 
Robertson  and 
Baines,  at  Stella, 
Washington, 
where  the  raft 
here  pictured  was 
constructed,  was 
about  three  hun- 
dred feet  in 
length,  and  con- 
tained no  less 
than  four  hun- 
dred and  fifty 


thousand  linear 
feet  of  piling  and 
spar  timbers, 
valued  at  forty- 
five  thousand 
dollars.  Another, 
perhaps  the  lar- 
gest ever  made, 
was  over  seven 
hundred  feet  in 
length  and  fifty 
feet  wide.  It 
contained  about 
six  hundred 
thousand  feet  of 
piling,  or  eight 
million  feet  of 
lumber,  board 
measure,  and  was 
bound  together 
by  a  hundred 
and  twenty  tons 
of  huge  chain.  This  raft  drew  twenty-two  and 
a  half  feet  of  water.  Another  raft,  constructed 
by  the  Robertson  Raft  Company,  at  Westport, 
seventy-five  miles  down  the  Columbia  River 
from  Portland,  took  over  eight  months  to  build 
and  cost  thirty  thousand  dollars.  It  was  six 
hundred  and  twenty-five  feet  in  length,  with  a 
beam  of  sixty  feet  and  a  depth  of  thirty-two 
feet ;  it  drew  twenty  feet  of  water.  There  were 
five  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  linear  feet  of 


MOVED   TO   ALLOW    THE    RAFT   TO    DROP 


[Photo. 


TESTING   THE   CHAINS- 

From  a] 


IN    THE    BACKGROUND   WILL    BE   SEEN   THE   CRANE    USED    FOR    SWINGING   THE    LOGS 

INTO   POSITION.  [PhotO. 


THE    TWENTIETH -CENTURY    RAFT 


87 


piling  in  this  raft,  and  it  was  towed  from 
Astoria  to  San  Francisco  by  two  tug-boats. 

Many  of  the  most  successful  feats  in  recent 
raft-construction  have  been  due  to  the  enterprise 
of  the  Oregon  Rafting  Company  of  Portland, 
Oregon,  through  whose  kindly  aid  we  have  been 
able  to  obtain  our  interesting  illustrations.  The 
company  owns  immense  tracts  of  timber  land 
in  the  North-West,  and  turns  out  these  leviathans 
yearly  in  a  matter-of-fact  sort  of  way  which 
occasions  surprise  to  those  not  used  to  the 
largeness  of  American  projects.  Were  one  of 
their  rafts  to  be  built  in  England  or  Scotland, 
we  can  imagine  special  trains  being  run  to  see 
it.  At  the  very  least,  it  would  prove  a  nine 
days'  wonder  to  the  people  and  the  Press. 

When  a  raft  is  completed  ready  for  its  sea 
voyage,  with  all  its  chains  tested  and  tightened, 
it  is  released  from  its  cradle  and  floats  "easily  on 
the  water.  The  key-pins  are  drawn  and  one 
part  of  the  cradle  is  removed,  as  shown  in  one 
of  our  pictures,  in  order  to  clear  the  raft  from 
the  other  half.  Its  departure  from  its  birth- 
place depends  on  the  state  of  the  markets  and 
the  demand  for  lumber  in  San  Francisco  ;  but 
ordinarily  it  is  taken  in  tow  at  once,  and  after 
a  voyage  of  a  few  days,  with  good  weather,  it 
reaches  port.  Built  in  a  narrow  river,  it  is  taken 
down  stream  by  a  tug,  with  a  stern-wheeler  at 
the  after  end  for  steering  purposes.  In  the  water 
it  looks  like  a  monster  whale,  and  its  size  makes 
progress  slow.  Sometimes  the  rafts  get  stranded 
in  the  river,  and  great  difficulty  is  experienced  in 
getting  them  off. 

The  dangers  to  navigation  created  by  these 
sea-going   monsters  "are  too  well   known  to   be 


recounted  at  length.  A  fair  percentage  of  the 
rafts  never  get  to  port  at  all.  Some  of  the 
first  ones  launched  on  the  Pacific  Coast  went  to 
pieces  at  sea,  and  for  many  months  afterwards 
the  logs  were  drifting  about  the  coast,  to  the 
imminent  peril  of  passing  ships.  Stray  logs 
from  derelict  rafts  have  been  cast  up  as  far  away 
as  the  Hawaiian  Islands  and  the  Mexican  coast, 
and  it  is  not  unreasonable  to  presume  that 
many  of  the  ships  which  from  time  to  time 
disappear  mysteriously  in  the  North  Pacific 
Ocean  owe  their  destruction  to  these  floating 
logs.  The  tremendous  risk  run  by  the  raft- 
maker  in  trusting  such  unwieldy  structures  to 
the  mercy  of  the  waves  is  shown  by  the  high 
insurance  rates,  which  generally  cover  only  the 
cost  of  construction.  In'  other  words,  a  raft 
insured  for  twenty  thousand  dollars  is  usually 
worth  three  times  that  amount.  One  of  the 
rafts  mentioned  above  was  valued  at  forty-five 
thousand  dollars,  and  insurance  of  some  sixteen 
thousand  odd  dollars  was  placed  upon  it,  the 
rate  of  insurance — ten  per  cent. — being  so  high 
that  the  owners  did  not  feel  justified  in  taking 
more  risk  than  was  necessary  to  meet  the  actual 
cost  of  construction. 

When  the  rafts  reach  port  they  are  quickly 
broken  up  and  utilized  for  many  purposes.  The 
best  logs  are  used  for  spars,  and  are  disposed  of 
with  little  difficulty  in  local  shipyards.  The 
piling  is  largely  used  in  railroad  construction, 
and  fetches  about  ten  dollars  per  thousand  feet. 
So  far  as  the  total  profit  to  the  raft-builder  is 
concerned,  this  varies  with  the  demand  for 
timber,  but  on  some  rafts  a  profit  of  twenty 
thousand  dollars  has  been  made. 


THE   GREAT   RAKT 
From  a] 


ON    ITS   WAY   DOWN 


THE   COLUMBIA    RIVER — IT    IS    BOUND 
A   THOUSAND   MILES. 


FOR    bAN    FRANC1SCC 


,EA    JOUI 


sEV   OK    NEARLY 

[Photo. 


Lost  in  a  Labyrinth. 

By  R.  Gordon   Hill. 

The  exciting  adventure  that  befell  two  schoolboys  during  a  ramble    in  Surrey,  told  by  one  of   the  lads. 

While  exploring  a  long-abandoned  quarry  they  got  hopelessly  lost  in  the  labyrinthine  maze  of  tunnels 

and  caverns,  and  spent  a  most   uncomfortable  time  until  rescued  by  some  workmen. 


NE  fine  day  just  before  the  beginning 
of  last  term  a  friend  and  I  set  out 
for  a  long  walk  to  Godstone,  in 
Surrey.  After  walking  for  some 
considerable    time   we   came   to    a 

large  sand-pit,  in  the  precipitous  side  of  which 

were  some  great  holes  that  seemed  to  lead  into 

the  bowels  of  the  earth.      Having  our  full  share 

of   that   curiosity   with   which    most    boys    are 

endowed,    we    were    immediately    smitten    with 

a  desire   to    enter   and    explore   those  interest- 
ing gates  to   the   nether  world, 

and  accordingly  asked  some  pit- 
men who  were  sifting  sand  at  the 

mouth  of  the  caves  if  we  might 

enter.     They    willingly  gave    us 

permission,  and  volunteered  the 

additional   information   that    the 

quarry — for    such    it    was  —  had 

not  been  used   for  many  years, 

and  that  the  passages  extended 

inwards     for     miles.       This 

sounded    promising,   not   to   say 

romantic,  and  we  made  haste  to 

enter  the  nearest  cave.     Directly 

we  got  inside  the  archway  widened 

out,  revealing  to  our  wondering 

gaze  a  fairly  high  vaulted  cavern, 

the  sides  of  which  were  pierced 

by  innumerable  smaller  tunnels 

leading  in  all  directions.     This 

whetted  our  curiosity  still  more, 

and    we    went    on.        A     main 

passage  seemed  to  lead  directly 

inwards,     and     along     this     we 

quickly    advanced.       About 

twenty    or    thirty    yards    farther 

the  tunnel   took  a  sudden  turn 

to  the    right,    and   just   at    this 

point   a    heap  of  sand    blocked 

up  the  floor  nearly   half-way    to 

the   roof.      Climbing    over    this, 

we    almost    immediately    found 

ourselves  in  total  darkness.     We 

were  not  to  be  beaten  by  this, 

however,   but    lit  a   match   and 

cautiously  proceeded. 

At   every  step  the   place    be- 
came   more  interesting,  and  we 

recklessly  went  on  in   what  we 


thought  to  be  a  straight  line,  not  giving  a 
thought  as  to  how  we  were  to  return  or  to 
the  number  of  matches  we  were  burning.  At 
last  we  came  to  a  point  where  we  had  to  choose 
between  two  routes,  both  of  which  looked 
likely  enough.  We  chose  the  one  leading  to 
the  right — alas!  there  was  little  right  about  it! 
— my  friend  placing  his  walking-stick  pointing 
towards  the  entrance  as  a  guide  when  we  came 
back.  We  then  went  on  until  my  chum 
made    the    discovery    that    he    had    only    three 


"  THEY    WILLINGLY   GAVE   US    PERMISSION. 


LOST    IN    A    LABYRINTH. 


89 


From  a] 


MOUTH    OF    THE    QUARRY. 


[Photo. 


more  matches  left  !  This  was  disconcerting, 
so  we  thought  we  had  better  turn  back 
and  buy  a  candle,  so  as  to  explore  this 
mysterious  place  further.  We  therefore  began 
to  retrace  our  footsteps,  but  presently  the  first  of 
the  matches  went 
out.  Another  was 
struck,  and  we 
walked  on,  but  to 
our  dismay  were  un- 
able to  find  the 
stick.  At  this  junc- 
ture the  second 
match  began  to 
flicker,  and  terribly 
soon  to  our  now 
anxious  minds  it 
gave  up  the  ghost. 
W  i  t  h  only  one 
match  left  we  began 
to  get  somewhat 
flurried,  but  con- 
tinued to  walk  on 
cautiously  in  the 
dark,  for  we  dared 
not  use  that  third 
match. 

The  pitchy  black- 
ness of  that  under- 
ground passage  was 
intolerable ;  the  only 
thing  with  which  to 
compare  it  was  the 
plague   of  darkness 

Vol.  xiv. — 12. 


P| 


» 


<r 


THE   AUTHOR   (ON    THE    R 

From 


which  befell  the  Egyptians,  with  whom  I  can 
now  heartily  sympathize.  In  ordinary  darkness 
one  can  generally  distinguish  a  white  surface 
when  it  is  about  three  inches  from  one's  nose, 
but    in   this  place  I  could  not  distinguish  my 

friend's  features 
even  when  my  face 
touched  his  ! 

Still  we  stumbled 
on,  hoping  every 
moment  to  see  a 
gleam  of  light  ahead, 
but  nothing  broke 
the  awful  gloom. 
We  now  began  to 
feel  rather  uncom- 
fortable, and  at  last 
I  suggested  that  we 
should  strike  the 
third  match  rather 
than  remain  in  such 
a  horrible  situation. 
With  infinite  care 
my  friend  lighted 
that  last  precious 
vesta,  and  we  walked 
on  as  rapidly  as  we 
could  in  what  we 
took  to  be  the  right 
direction.  As  we 
went  along  I  hunted 
through  all  my 
pockets  for  some- 
thing to  light  before 


IGHT)  AND    HIS   COMPAN1C 

a  Photo. 


90 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


slightest 


our  last  match  followed  its  brethren  into  dark- 
ness. All  I  could  find,  however,  was  a  portion  of  a 
Latin  exercise,  with  an  ancient  school  cricket- 
card.     The  Latin  exercise  I  crumpled  up  like  a 
torch,  and  when  the  match  gave  signs  of  going 
out  I  lit  it.     When  my  torch  burned  down  I 
tried   to  light  the  cricket-card,  but  that,  being 
very  thick,  obstinately  declined  to  light  at  all. 
I  was  so   busily  occupied   with  my   task  as  I 
walked  on  that  I  paid  no  attention  to  my  feet. 
Suddenly,  without  the 
warning,     the 
earth  slipped  away  from 
under    my    feet,   and    I 
fell — down,    down, 
down  !      Just    at    this 
critical    moment,    of 
course,    the   light   went 
out,  and   I  alighted  in 
pitchy  darkness.     I  had 
fallen  in  something  soft, 
so  was  unable  to  judge 
at  first   how  far  I    had 
descended.      Presently,      t 
however,     I     heard    an 
anxious     voice      some- 
where above  calling  out, 
"  Where  are  you  ?     Are 
you  hurt?"     I  was  not 
able    to    answer    imme- 
diately, my  mouth  being 
full  of  sand  ;  but  just  as 
I  was  going  to  reply  my 
friend  also  slipped  into 
space  and  crashed  down 
on  top  of  me.     Though 
his  foot  landed  a  little 
below   my  chest    I  did 
not     grumble,     for    we 
both  thought  it  was  no 
time  for  such   things.     When 
my  companion  had  recovered 
himself    somewhat   he    asked 
me  what  had  happened  to  the 
light,  and  after  hunting  about 
for  some    time  I  found   that 
I    was    sitting   on    it — or    its 
remains.     At  this  intelligence 
I     heard    my    friend     give    a 
groan,  and  to  keep  him  com 
pany  I  groaned  too.       It  was   then    suggested 
that   we  should   turn  out   our   pockets  to  see 
if    there    was.   a    stray    match    anywhere.       Of 
course    there    wasn't— there    never   is    at    such 
times.      Reviewing    the    situation,    we    found 
that    we    had    one    sandwich    left  —  we    had 
started  with  a  big  parcel  of  them  in  the  morning 
■ — and  a  few  coins.     But  what  good  is  money 
when  one  is  buried  yards  under  the  earth  ?     It 


EARTH  SUITE 
AND  I  FELL- 


is  of  no  more  use  than  dirt,  and  I  felt  like 
throwing  it  away,  but  managed  to  restrain 
myself  and  tried  to  think  of  a  way  out  of  our 
predicament. 

There  was  a  remote  chance  that  the  workmen 
at  the  mouth,  who  had  seen  us  go  in  and  had 
not  seen  us  come  out,  would  come  in  to  look 
for  us.  But  this  chance  was  a  slender  one 
indeed,  for  it  was  just  about  twelve  o'clock  when 
we  entered  the  cave,  and  the  men  generally 
have  their  dinner  at  that  hour,  and  would, 
perhaps,  think  that  we  had  come  out  during 
their  absence.  And,  besides,  the  men 
themselves  had  said  it  was  a  disused  quarry, 
so  the  hope  of  getting  out  was  very  small 
indeed.  After  having  thought  over  this 
till  we  had  got  ourselves  into  a  morbid 
condition  I  endeavoured  to  cheer 
my  companion  by  singing  a  song, 
but,  unfortunately,  the  ditty  ended 
in  a  dismal  groan,  hardly  calcula- 
ted to  cheer  depressed  spirits. 
What  on  earth  were  we  to  do? 
All  this  time  we  were  nearly 
frozen,  for  a  damp 
underground  place  is 
always  bitterly  cold.  I 
had  read  somewhere 
that  entombed  miners 
always  huddle  together 
to  keep  warm,  so  I 
suggested  to  my  friend 
that  we  should  do  the 
same,  and  by  this  means 
we  managed  to  restore 
the  circulation  of  our 
blood.  Presently  I  hap- 
pened to  mention  to  my 
companion  that  we  had 
no  water  with  us,  and 
as  a  result  both  of  us 
suddenly  became  con- 
scious of  a  horrible 
thirst.  This  was  per- 
haps partly  accounted 
for  by  the  fact  that  we 
had  our  mouths  full  of 
sand  from  our  fall. 

"  How    long    can    a 
fellow  live  without  food 
and  water  ?  "  asked  my  chum,  dolefully. 
"  Three  days,  I  believe,"  said  I. 
He  groaned  dismally.     "  I  wish  it  was  two," 
he  replied. 

I  agreed,  for  the  prospect  of  dying  miserably 
of  hunger  and  thirst  after  three  days  is  not 
inviting. 

My  companion,  willing  to  cheer  me  up,  began 
to  tell  me  of  a  young  adventurer  who  had  had  a 


>   AWAY     FROM    UNDER    MY   FEET 
-DOWN,     >OWN,    DOWN  1" 


LOST    IN    A    LABYRINTH. 


9* 


Somewhat  similar  experience  to  ours  and  had 
come  out  a  couple  of  days  later  with  white  hair. 
I  instantly  thought  of  my  own  locks,  and  won- 
dered if  they  would  be  white  when  we  came 
out — if  we  ever  did  get  out  of  this  death-trap 
alive.  I  decided  in  my  own  mind  that  white 
hair  would  not  suit  me  at  all.  My  cheerful 
companion  then  went  on  to  tell  me  of  a  friend 
of  his,  who  had  had  a  friend  who  went  into  a 
mine  under  identically  the  same  circumstances, 
and  how  his  friend's  friend  had  played  the  lead- 
ing part  at  the  funeral.  By  this  time  I  thought 
it  was  my  turn,  and  gave  my  companion  a  vivid 
picture  of  our  bodies  being  found,  weeks  after, 
propped  against  the  side  of  the  cavern  in  a  last 


From  a] 


THE  INTERIOR  OF  THE  OUARKY. 


fond  embrace.  After  this  we  both  relapsed  into 
a  stony  silence,  until  we  began  to  think  over  the 
vanity  of  worldly  projects ;  and  it  would  fill  a 
book  to  put  down  all  the  vows  we  made  for 
amendment  in  the  future  if  we  ever  got  out,  for 
at  that  time  neither  of  us  had  any  hope  of  ever 
doing  so. 

But  all  this  time  we  had  been  getting  colder 
and  colder,  until  I  told  my  companion  that  I 
could  stand  it  no  longer,  so  we  began  to  walk 
on  again.  We  proceeded  in  what  we  thought 
to  be  the  right  direction  until  we  came  across  a 
place  where  there  seemed  to  be  an  air  current. 
We  tried  to  follow  it,  but  after  tracking  it  for  a  few 
yards  it  ended  in  a  blank.  This  was  very  dis- 
appointing, so  we  took  another  direction,  which 
ended  in  the  same  way.     Then  we  felt  along  the 


walls,  holding  on  to  the  ends  of  a  stick,  my  com- 
panion feeling  one  side  of  the  cave  and  I  the  other, 
until  I  shouted  out  that  I  had  found  a  tunnel 
leading  in  a  likely  direction.  We  went  along 
this  for  a  little  distance,  and  I  was  beginning  to 
think  it  would  end  in  a  cul-de-sac  like  the 
others,  as  it  seemed  to  be  going  uphill,  when  I 
came  to  a  small  hole,  through  which  we  crawled 
and  slid.  It  led  into  a  kind  of  main  cavern 
below,  which  by  its  feel  was  something  like 
hat  which  we  had  found  near  the  mouth. 
Thinking  this  might  be  near  the  opening,  we 
yelled  for  help — not  for  the  fust  time 
by  any  means — but  no  answer  came  back. 
After  shouting  till  we  were  hoarse  we  went  on, 

but  found  that  the  cavern 
gradually  got  smaller  until 
it  was  too  small  to  \v;ilk 
upright.  So  we  turned 
back,  and  just  then  I  slip- 
ped over  something, 
which  I  found  to  be  a 
broken  pitchfork.  In 
answer  to  my  friend's 
question  concerning  my 
fall  I  told  him  what  I 
had  found. 

"Oh,"  said  he,  "that 
shows  that  some  work- 
men must  have  been  here 
recently." 

•But  when  I  informed 
him  that  it  was  broken 
and  had  at  least  seven 
years'  rust  on  it,  his  new- 
found hopes  were  dashed 
to  the  ground.  We  then 
sat  down,  feeling  very 
depressed  and  inclined 
to  give  up  the  struggle. 
It  seemed  hopeless  to  try 
to  find  a  way  out  of  this 
labyrinth  of  gloomy  passages.  Suddenly,  in  the 
distance,  we  heard  a  steady  drip,  drip,  and  knew 
at  once  that  water  must  be  somewhere  near.  Oh, 
the  joy  in  our  hearts  when  we  heard  that  welcome 
sound  !  We  knew  then  that  we  could  live  for 
perhaps  a  week,  and  that  would  be  time  enough 
for  our  parents  to  find  out  where  we  were.  To 
most  people  it  would  not  appear  a  very  enjoy- 
able prospect — living  for  a  week  on  half  a 
sandwich  and  some  sandy  water.  But  it  did  to 
us  at  that  time. 

So  we  crept  onward  in  the  darkness,  getting 
through  holes  and  climbing  up  banks,  while  all 
the  while  the  delightful  sound  of  the  falling 
water  got  louder  and  louder.  Finally,  after 
wriggling  through  the  smallest  hole  I  have  ever 
negotiated,  we  slipped  into  some  wet  sand,  into 


[Photo. 


92 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


which  we  sank  knee-deep.  We  could  now  hear 
the  water  dripping  within  a  yard  or  two  of  us. 
My  companion,  after  extracting  a  promise  from 
me  that  I  would  not  move,  went  forward  to 
locate  the  spring.  After  having  been  away  for 
five  minutes  he  told  me  that  he  had  found  it 
at  last.  I  made  my  way  to  him,  and  acci- 
dentally rubbing  my  hand  on  his  back  found 
it  soaking  wet,  for  all  the  time  he  had  been 
looking  for  the  water  it  had  been  falling  on 
to  him  from  somewhere  above  !  He  then 
tried  to  direct  me  to  the  spring,  but  was 
not  able  to  do  so,  and  after  I  had  been 
looking  for  it  for  some  time  I  was  informed  of 
its  whereabouts  by  the  icy  drops  falling 
down  my  neck,  and  even  when  I  had  dis- 
covered it  I  accidentally  got  a  mouthful  of 
sand,  instead  of  the  water  I  had  anticipated. 

Not  caring  to  leave  the 
precious  fluid,  I  spread  out  my 
coat  on  the  ground  and  we 
both  rested  on  it,  until  it 
occurred  to  us  that  lying  in 
such  a  damp  place  would  do 
us  no  good.  So  we  got  up, 
and  after  having  gone  through 
what  we  thought  to  be  a 
tunnel,  some  way  off,  we  found 
that  we  had  only  been  going 
round  and  round  the  same 
cavern  !  I  then  remembered 
an  article  in  the  history  book 
about  the  Ancient  Britons,  and 
how  they  managed  to  obtain 
a  light  by  rubbing  two  pieces 
of  wood  together.  I  instantly 
put  this  notion  into  practice. 
The  only  pieces  of  wood  I 
had  about  me  were  two  pen- 
holders, and  these  I  started 
rubbing  for  all  I  was  worth. 
As  anybody  could  have  pro- 
phesied, however,  my  efforts 
were  all  in  vain.  I  then  bor- 
rowed my  companion's  knife 
to  attempt  to  obtain  a  spark 
by  rubbing  it  on  the  rusty 
fork,  which  I  had  carried  all 
the  while,  but  I  only  managed 
to  take  a  piece  out  of  the 
knife.  This  was  all  very  dis- 
appointing, so  I  lay  down  for 
a  little  while,  when  suddenly 
another  bright  idea  came  to 
my  mind.  Why  not  dig  our 
way  out  with  the  old  fork  ? 
All  I  could  do,  however,  was  to 
scratch  the  roof  of  the  cavern, 
so  I  gave  up  the    scheme  in 


despair.  I  then  began  to  think  of  my  school, 
and  how  in  the  next  number  of  the  School 
Magazine  on  the  last  page  a  neat  little  notice 
would  appear  surrounded  with  a  black  border, 
saying  how  sorry  they  were  at  my  untimely  end, 
and  giving  a  small  history  of  my  life  and  death 
— as  is  customary  with  distinguished  men. 

Thus  another  weary  hour  passed  away — we 
could  tell  that  by  feeling  the  hands  of  our 
watches — and  still  we  were  no  nearer  deliver- 
ance. Would  help  never  come,  or  were  we 
really  doomed  to  perish  miserably  in  this  maze 
of  tunnels  ?  Presently  my  companion  saw  a 
shaft  of  light  leap  across  the  roof  of  the  cavern 
and  then  suddenly  vanish  again.  Thinking  it 
was  only  a  trick  of  his  imagination — for  we  had 
fancied  we  saw  non-existent  lights  before — he 
did  not  mention  it  to  me  at  first.      But  almost 


WE   SCRAMBI .E   I    IN    FRANTIC    HASTE   THROUGH    THE    SMALL   OPENING    WHENCE   THE 

LIGHT  CAME." 


LOST    IN    A     LABYRINTH. 


93 


immediately  the  light  came  again,  and 
remained. 

I  could  not  analyze  my  feelings  at  that 
moment,  and  if  I  could  it  would  require  a 
better  pen  than  mine  to  set  them  down.  So 
I  will  simply  say  that  we  both  of  us  began 
frantically  shouting,  "  Help  !  Help!"  Then,  to 
our  inexpressible  joy,  an  answering  shout  came 
back,  "  Right,  oh  !  Where  be  you  ?  Come  on 
through  here  !  " 

We  scrambled  in  frantic  haste  through  the 
small  opening  whence  the  light  came.  We 
found  ourselves  in  the  presence  of  a  number  of 
pitmen,  carrying  lanterns  and  candles.  After 
shaking  hands  with  them  all,  our  first  question 
was,  "How  long  have  we  been  in  here?"  and 
one  of  the  men  answered  :  "  Well,  mister,  you 
came  in  about  noon,  and  it's  now  nearly  half- 
past  four.  We've  been  lookin'  for  yer  since  one 
o'clock  and  had  given'  yer  up  once,  but  corned 
across  one  of  yer  sticks,  by  which  we  knew  you 


were  still  in."  They  then  informed  us  that  we  had 
been  going  in  the  wrong  direction  all  the  while, 
and  upon  my  asking  how  far  we  w<  re  under- 
ground I  was  told  "over  a  hundred  feet.''  It 
would  have  taken  us  some  time  to  dig  our  way 
out  ! 

We  soon  got  out  into  the  glorious  daylight 
once  more,  where  for  some  time  we  blinked  like 
owls.  Then,  after  rewarding  our  rescuers  and 
thanking  them  again,  we  set  off  for  home. 
But  it  will  be  many  a  long  day  before  we  forget 
our  adventure  in  the  deserted  quarry.* 


*The  manager  of  the  quarry  vouches  for  the  truth  of  my  story  in 
the  following  letter  :  "  Sand-Pit,  Godstone,  May  13th,  1904. — On 
January  15th  last  Mr.  G.  Hill  and  G.  Ellis,  who  were  passing  the  pit 
for  a  walk,  came  in  and  asked  me  whether  they  might  have  a-look 
down  in  the  mines.  I  gave  my  consent  and  they  went  in.  Being 
underground  about  one  and  a  half  hours  and  not  coming  out  again, 
I  concluded  that  they  must  have  lost  themselves,  so  I  sent  in  some 
of  the  workmen  to  search  for  them,  and  after  searching  for  another 
two  and  a  half  hours  they  came  across  them  lying  on  a  heap  of  sand 
a  long  way  underground.  The  caves  have  not  been  worked  for 
twenty-five  years,  and  there  is  only  one  way  out.  It  was  very 
fortunate  that  we  saw  them  go  in,  or  they  would  most  likely  have 
been  there  now. — (Signed)  \V.  Bryant." 


From  a] 


SOME    MEMBERS   OF    THE    RESCUE    PARTY. 


[P/wto. 


THREE    MEN    IN    THE    WILDS. 

By  James  Barr. 

The    concluding    instalment    of    this    amusing    account  of    the    trials     and    tribulations    which 

befell    three  "  tenderfeet "  in    the    great   Canadian    wilderness.      Mr.  Earr   here   sets  forth  what 

happened    when    the    trio  discovered    they   had    been   abandoned    by  their    guides,  their   doings 

at  Abitibi,  and   how  they  came  to  the  end  of  their  journey. 


J^32*5 


ammunition, 
least,"     said 


wishing 


my 


HERE  was  no  doubt  about  it  ;  we 
had  been  deserted  in  the  wilderness  ! 
We  stood  there  and  did  the  only 
thing  we  could  do — gazed  at  one 
another.  A  wooded  point  which 
ran  out  into  the  lake  prevented  us  from  seeing 
what  progress  the  rascals  our  guides  had  made 
in  rtieir  dash  for  inhabited  parts. 

"  We   have   the   firearms    and 
thank  Heaven,"  said  Peters. 

"  And     some      provisions    at 
McWhinnie. 

"And  the  tent,"  I   put  in,   not 
load  overlooked. 

"  Yes,  and  our  sleeping-bags.  No,  by 
George  !  Yours  is  gone,  Chronicler,"  shouted 
Peters. 

Such  a  change  as  came  over  the  spirits  of 
McWhinnie  at  this  information  I  never  beheld 
in  mortal  man.  Hitherto  gloomy  to  the  verge 
of  moroseness,  he  now  burst  into  uproarious 
laughter,  holding  his  sides  and  stamping  his 
moccasins  on  the  wet  grass.  It  always  strikes 
me  as  wonderful  how  some  people  can  bear  to 
see  others  suffer — yea,  even  go  so  far  as  to 
laugh  at  that  suffering  and  distress. 

"The  situation  is  redeemed,"  he  shouted. 
"  The  joke  has  rebounded  !  " 

His  mirth  was  uncontrollable  and  contagious. 
It  infected  Peters,  and  by  rights  I  should  have 
been  pleased  to  see  my  companions  in  such 
good  humour  after  their  late  gloom.  But  some- 
how their  gaiety  failed  to  cheer  me. 

"It's  going  to  be  a  cold  night,"  roared 
McWhinnie,  repeating  the  words  I  had  used 
half  an  hour  earlier.  "  It's  going  to  be  cold 
to-night,  I  repeat." 

To  tell  the  truth,  I  bitterly  regretted  my  lazi- 
ness. The  others  invariably  shouldered  their 
sleeping-bags  for  the  first  trip  over  a  portage, 
while  I  as  invariably  left  mine  till  the  last,  in  the 
hope  that  a  guide  would  take  it.  This  time  the 
guides  had  taken  it  with  a  vengeance.  So  great 
was  McWhinnie's  mirth  that  Peters  was  at  last 
obliged  to  lead  him  away  from  the  brink  of 
the  water,  otherwise  I  think  I  would  have  had 
the  satisfaction  of  seeing  him  fall  in.  When 
the  laughter  subsided  Peters  approached  the 
situation  from  the  proper  point  of  the  compass. 
He  said  :  — 

"  The  problem  awaiting  solution  is,  '  What's  to 


be  done  ?  '    We  are,  as  they  say  on  this  side  ot 
the  Old  and  New  World  divide,  'up  against  it.'" 

"  I  vote  we  go  back,"  said  the  now  cheerful 
McWhinnie,  "  collect  what  belongings  we  have 
saved,  pitch  our  tent,  and  make  ourselves  as 
comfortable  as  is  possible.  One  thing  is  certain  : 
we  must  stay  on  this  portage  till  someone  with  a 
canoe  happens  along  who  will  either  take  us  off 
or  send  help.  We  may  as  well  set  to  work  at 
once  to  make  the  best  of  a  bad  job." 

We  had  picked  out  a  suitable  spot  for  the 
camp,  and  the  tent  was  half  up  when,  strolling 
through  the  bushes  from  the  Hudson  Bay  end 
of  the  portage,  up  came  our  Indian  guide.  His 
pipe  was  alight  and  his  hands  in  his  pockets. 
Before  we  noticed  his  arrival  he  sang  out : — 

"  Halloa  !     You  camp  here  ?  " 

This  gave  McWhinnie  such  a  start  that  he 
dropped  the  heavy  tent-support  in  such  a  way 
that  it  happened  to  catch  me  across  the  shins. 

"  Where  in  thunder  have  you  been  and  what's 
your  little  game?"  McWhinnie  bellowed. 

So  astonished  was  the, guide  at  this  onslaught 
that  he  let  his  pipe  fall  from  between  his  teeth. 

"  What  larks  have  you  and  your  confounded 
mate  been  up  to  at  our  expense?"  continued 
McWhinnie. 

"  Larks  ?  "  The  guide  glanced  at  the  bushes 
and  then  at  the  sky.  "  Larks  ?  "  he  inquired. 
"  Me  not  understand." 

"  Nor  do  we.  Why  were  we  left  on  this 
portage  ?  How  came  it  that  you  sneaked  past 
with  the  canoes  unobserved  ?  " 

"  Ue  portage?  De  portage  she  end  at  head 
of  de  rapid.  You  make  de  long  portage,  de 
portage  dat  is  only  for  make  when  no  water  is 
in  de  creek.  Sometime  it  is  de  long  portage 
she  has  to  be  make,  but  now  de  creek  she  is 
all  right ;  she  swims  de  canoe,  and  de  portage 
she  end  at  de  head  of  de  rapid,  one  acre  from 
where  we  come  ashore.  You  had  gone  on,  so 
we  launch  de  canoe,  load  her  up,  and  come  on 
to  end  of  de  long  portage  to  meet  you.  You 
not  come  dere,  so  I  comes  back  to  find  out  w'y." 

"  The  portage  ends  a  stone-throw  from  where 
we  came  to  land  ?"  gasped  McWhinnie,  sitting 
down  and  folding  his  arms. 

"  Wy>  yes.  You  not  see  she  end  dere, 
no-o-o  ?  " 

"  No ;  I'm  hanged  if  I  did  ! "  sighed 
McWhinnie 


THREE    MEN    IN    THE    WILDS. 


95 


'YOU    NOT   SEE    SHE    END    DERE,    NO-O-O 


"  And   you    not   see,    no-o-o  ?  " 
guide,  turning  to  Peters. 

"  My  answer  to  that  is 
that  I  packed  a  horse-load 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  past 
the  blessed  spot.  Do  you 
think  now  that  I  noticed 
the  end  ?  " 

"  My  bag  all  right  ?  "  I 
chirruped. 

"All  right,"  was  the 
reply. 

I  fled  among  the  brush- 
wood in  time  to  escape  a 
tent-pole  that  came  hurt- 
ling my  way  through  the 
ambient  air. 

Crossing  the  Height  of 
Land  on  Thursday,  May 
2 ist,  we  navigated  Lake 
Matawgogig,  Three  Carry 
Rt.w.    Lake  Agotawekami, 


rattlesnake." 
'•  Wait    for 
queried    the  jiffy.     Nevertheless, 


and  Abitibi  River,  tin-  last  portage  of  whii  h 
is  named  Dancing  Portage,  because  of  the 
Indian's  joy  at  having  done  with  portaging 
between  civilization  and  Abitibi.  On  Sun- 
day afternoon,  May  24th,  the  late  Queen 
Victoria's  birthday  -  -  still  celebrated  in 
Canada—  we  floated  out  on  the  bosom  of 
Lake  Abitibi  and  beheld,  far  ahead  on  a 
little  point  that  runs  out  into  the  lake  from 
the  right-hand  bank,  the  Hudson  Lay 
Company's  post. 

"  Hand  me  my  camera,  and  look  sharp 
about  it!  This  is  the  liveliest  place  for 
animals  I've  ever  struck,      lie  quick  !  " 

"What's  up,  McWhinnie?"  1  asked, 
continuing  to  lace  my  moccasins,  for  1 
was  not  yet  dressed. 

"  Sling   out   my   camera 
questions.     I'm  in  a  hurry. 

"What    are    you    going 
time  in  the  morning?" 

"  Morning  to  you,  but 
the  afternoon  to  the  unimportant  rest  of 
the  world.  I'm  about  to  photo  an  ox,  if 
you  must  know." 

"An  ox?  Here  at  Abitibi  ?  (io  along 
with  you  !  How  in  thunder  could  there 
be  an  ox  up  here  ?  You  can't  pack  an  ox 
in  a  canoe,  you  know.     Don't  tell  me — 

"But  I  insist  on  telling  you.  I  do 
not  pretend  to  know  how  they  got  the  ox 
here,  but  it's  here.  And  of  all  the  oxes  or 
oxen,  or  whatever  is  the  plural  of  the  bruu-, 
this    is    the    biggest,   and   as   savag> 


and    don't   ask 

to    photo   this 

well  on  towards 


me  ;    I'll 
I   believe 


be     ready    in     a 
you're  trying  to 


A    HUDSON    BAY   COMPANY   CANOE   CROSSING    DANCING    PORTAGE. 


96 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


infringe    on    Feters's    Canadian  -  alligator    catch 
patent." 

Our  tent  stood  in  the  compound  of  the 
Hudson  Bay  Company's  post  at  Abitibi,  Mr. 
Skene,  the  company's  representative,  having 
kindly  allowed  us  to  pitch  it  on  a  green  that  lay 
between  the  storehouse  and  the  great  lake.  It 
was  Tuesday  morning,  May  26th,  beautifully 
clear,  bright,  and  warm,  as  are  so  many  spring 
mornings  in  Canada.  As  usual,  I  had  suffered 
from  a  bad  attack  of  loss  of  ambition,  which 
allowed  my  two  companions  to  get  abroad  some 
hours  before  me. 

Peters,  having  found  an  ancient  French 
Canadian  newspaper  wrapped  round  our  latest 
chunk  of  fat  pork,  was  seated  on  a  sun-smitten 
rock  translating  French  doggerel  into  English 
doggerel,  and  with  great  reluctance  was  induced 
by  McWhinnie  to  leave  the  higher  fields  of 
literature  for  a  stroll  in  the  more  practical  fields 
of  Abitibi.  McWhinnie  stalked  on  ahead,  and 
the  three  of  us 
passed  first  an 
encampment  of 
Indians  just  ar- 
rived with  canoe- 
loads  of  furs  from 
distant  hunting 
grounds,  and  then, 
mounting  a  hill, 
we  skirted  the  last 
long  encampment 
of  those  red  men 
who  had  gone  to 
the  happy  hunting 
ground.  Behind 
this  graveyard  we 
came  upon  a  large 
green  field  hewn 
out  of  the  dense 
woods.  In  the 
centre  of  this 
space  we  beheld  a 
strange  sight  —  a 
gigantic  ox,  larger 
than  any  I  had 
ever  seen,  har- 
nessed to  a  plough 
and  bridled  much 
like  a  horse,  most 
of  the  harness  as 
well  as  the  plough 
being  evidently 
home-made.  The 
ox  felt  very  fresh 
and  still  more  con- 
trary, having  spent 
the  long  winter  in 
the  stable,  and  he 


THE    THREE    OK    US    PASSED   AN    INDIA> 
ENCAMPMENT." 


resented  the  more  than  insinuation  that  he 
should  turn  to  and  work  for  a  living  now  that 
spring  had  arrived. 

Two  natives  of  Abitibi  were  using  their  best 
endeavours  to  persuade  him  that  his  resentment 
was  useless.  This  he  did  not  believe  as  yet,  and 
was  arguing  the  matter  out.  He  had  got  the 
traces  all  in  a  tangle  and  stood  facing  wrong 
way  about,  forelegs  astraddle  of  the  neck  of  the 
plough,  gazing  at  the  ploughman  while  the  man 
with  the  reins  tugged  and  hauled  and  spoke 
Cree  words  with  an  emphasis  that  led  me  to 
believe  he  was  fully  alive  to  the  needs  of  the 
occasion.  Apparently  the  ox  had  heard  the 
words  before,  for  he  paid  not  the  slightest 
attention  to  them. 

"What  else  can  you  expect?"  muttered 
McWhinnie,  adjusting  his  camera.  "An  ox 
hundreds  of  miles  from  where  an  ox  should  be, 
driven  by  men  who  were  intended  by  Nature  to 
slay  great  animals.     A  native  of  these  wilds  and 

an  animal  cannot 
live  at  peace.  One 
must  slay  the 
other  or  be  slain. 
You,  Peters,  could 
take  charge  of 
that  ox  and  have  it 
working  smoothly 
and  happily  in  half 
an  hour." 

"I  don't  know 
about  that,  Mc- 
Whinnie. What  I 
do  know,  however, 
is  that  I'm  jolly 
well  not  going  to 
try." 

"Not  afraid  of 
an  ox,  I  hope  ? " 
McWhinnie  asked, 
contemptuously, 
glaring  at  Peters. 

"  I  simply  don't 
wish  to  spoil  sport. 
This    is    a    sports- 
man's country,  and 
those     who     have 
the  ox  in  charge  seem   to 
ine  to  be  doing  pretty  well 
without  my  interference." 

"  I      believe     you're    afraid    of    a 

stalled  ox,"  muttered  the  irrepressible 

McWhinnie. 

The   man   at   the  plough-handles  wildly 

slashed  his  cap  in  the  face  of  the  ox,  while 

the  other  man  heaved  lustily  on  the  port 

rein,  which,  by  the  way,  was  a  bit  of  clothes- 

1  ne,  and   ultimately    it   dawned  on  the  ox 


THREE    MEN    IN    THE    WILDS. 


97 


that  he  was  expected  to  'bout  face.  This  he 
did  with  an  appallingly  sudden  leap  and 
vicious  switch  of  his  tail,  and  off  he  went  on 
the  jump  down  hill,  the  plough,  shaking  itself 
free,  pitching  after  the  ox  like  a  bounding 
Dervish,  while  the  man  with  the  reins  lost  his 
footing  and  was  dragged  helplessly  along.  Ox, 
plough,  and  men  ultimately  brougnt  up  against 
a  heavy  rail  fence,  where  the  animal,  suddenly 
losing  interest  in  the  proceedings,  prepared  to 
lie  down  and  chew  the  cud.  Peters  and  I, 
hands  in  pockets,  roared  with  laughter,  but 
McWhinnie  took  it  mighty  seriously,  fidgeting 
the  various  stops  and  springs  of  his  camera  to 
make  sure  everything  was  ready  for  business. 

"  This  is  a  rare  chance.  Nothing  less  than  a  bit 
of  natural  humour,"  he  muttered  to  himself.  "After 
being  so  long  in  the  company  of  you  two  a  bit  of 
real  humour  is  refreshing.     I  must  photo  it." 

The  driver  handed  the  reins  to  his  chum 
what  time  he  patched  up 
his  torn  clothes.  Then 
a  do-or-die  look  settled 
on  their  faces,  and  they 
resolutely  breasted  the 
task  of  getting  the  beast 
up  the  hill  and  into  the 
furrow  again.  The  ox 
was,  in  his  way,  an  animal 
open  to  reason.  He  only 
objected  to  ploughing, 
having  no  rooted  objec- 
tion to  dragging  the 
plough  so  long  as  the 
coulter  was  not  in  the 
ground.  He  was  an  ox 
that  believed  in  head 
work  as  against  mere  brute 
strength.  But  when,  by 
various  machinations,  the 
two  men  sought  to  make 
the  plough-share  slit  into 
the  tough  sod  trouble 
began  instantly.  The  ox 
ponderously  whirled  three 
times  round,  despite  Cree 
swear-words  and  vicious 
tugging  on  the  reins  ;  he 
upset  the  plough,  twisted 
the  traces,  and  began  a 
series  of  spasmodic  rushes 
this  way  and  that,  for  no 
other  purpose  than  to 
complicate  the  general 
chaos  into  which  he  had 
got  things.  McWhinnie 
looked  on  admiringly,  and 
presently,  his  artist  blood 
beginning  to  boil  at  the 

Vol.  xiv.— 13. 


thought  of  so  picturesque  a  situation,  he  started 
to  skip  about  from  one  side  to  the  other  on 
the  chance  of  a  good  snap-shot,  occasionally 
pausing  to  hollow  his  hand  round  the  ground 
glass  to  see  what  sort  of  a  picture  shone  on  the 
surface  of  the  glass. 

At  length  the  ox  stood  still,  and  McWhinnie, 
burning  with  enthusiasm,  bawled  out  to  the  men, 
"  Hold  him  there  !  Hold  him  there,  and  I'll 
have  him  in  half  a  second  !  " 

Unfortunately,  the  men  did  not  hear,  but  the 
savage  brute  did.  The  ox  swung  himself  round, 
sighted  McWhinnie  and  his  infernal  machine, 
and  then,  lowering  his  head,  charged  quick  as 
a  flash  straight  for  our  companion,  who,  intently 
gazing  on  the  ground  glass  to  find  the  focus, 
failed  to  realize  the  possibilities  of  the  situation. 
The  beast  was  furious,  and  evidently  meant  to 
bump  McWhinnie's  head  against  a  cloud.  As 
for  me  I  stood  speechless,  bereft   of  what  little 


;  HE  GAVK    A    GIGANTIC    I-EAI'    BACKWARDS. 


98 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


presence  of  mind  I  ever  possessed.  Peters,  on 
the  other  hand,  rose  nobly  to  the  occasion,  and, 
photography  on  his  brain,  screamed  out,  "  Get 
out  of  focus,  McWhinnie  !  Get  out  of  focus, 
quick  !      He'll  develop  you " 

"  Do  keep  quiet,"  growled  McWhinnie.     "  I 
want  it  in  focus " 

Next  instant  he  became  aware  of  an  ox's  head 
rapidly  spreading  itself  all  over  the  ground  glass, 
and,  glancing  up  to  see  the  cause,  beheld  the 
gigantic  brute  almost  on  top  of  him.  For  a 
fraction  of  a  second  he  stood  terror-stricken, 
then,  with  a  war-whoop  that  startled  the  wild- 
fowl on  the  bosom  of  Lake  Abitibi,  he  gave  one 
gigantic  leap  backwards,  accidentally  snapping 
the  camera  at  the  very  moment  the  man  at  the 
reins  had  thrown  his 
whole  weight  on  one 
line  to  swing  the  ox's 
head  clear  of  Mc 
Whinnie's  face.  The 
latter  did  not  pause 
to  look  back.  With 
a  bound  he  cleared  a 
low  place  in  the  fence, 
and,  with  his  camera 
streaming  out  behind 
him  by  the  strap,  dis- 
appeared past  the 
graveyard  and  down 
the  hill.  When  Peters 
and  I  reached  the 
camp  we  found  orders 
had  been  given  to 
strike  the  tent  without 
delay  and  make  off. 
McWhinnie  would  not 
hear  of  any  delay.  He  merely  said  he  wished 
to  go  where  black  bear  were  abundant  and 
there  were  no  oxen. 

We  had  found  Lake  Abitibi  a  large  body  of 
very  shallow  water ;  indeed,  although  it  is  more- 
than  thirty  miles  long,  east  to  west,  it  does  not 
seem  to  be  much  deeper  than  ten  feet  at  any 
place.  Its  waters  flow  by  way  of  Abitibi  River 
to  James  Bay,  and  at  first  we  thought  of 
journeying  with  the  water,  but  Mr.  Skene  dis- 
suaded us.  He  told  us  the  river  was  a  most 
monotonous  waterway,  flowing  through  one  con- 
tinuous swamp.  The  country  to  the  west, 
north,  and  east  of  Abitibi  seems  to  be  so  low 
and  swampy  that  the  Indians  are  obliged  to  use 
their  snowshoes  in  summer  to  get  over  the 
unstable  ground.  Mr.  Skene  advised  us  to  try  the 
country  to  the  north  and  east  of  the  lake.  Four 
miles  above  the  post  a  large  river,  the  Whitefish, 
enters  Lake  Abitibi,  and  this,  he  said,  led  into 
a  region  of  which  he  knew  almost  nothing, 
having  only  heard  of  it  from  the  Indians. 


THK    CAMP    AT    LAKE    MAKAMI 


It  occurred  to  us  that  the  head  waters 
of  the  Whitefish  lay  near  the  head  waters  of 
perhaps  the  Gatineau  or  even  the  St.  Maurice, 
and  that  by  way  of  a  short  portage  over  the 
Height  of  Land  we  could  make  our  way  to  the 
St.  Lawrence.  Up  the  Whitefish  we  would  go 
and  see  what  we  might  see.  We  felt  reluctant 
to  leave  Abitibi,  its  rapidly  increasing  gathering 
of  Indian  trappers  and  fur-hunters,  its  black- 
eyed  papooses,  its  scurry  of  silent  curs,  and  its 
captive  wild  goose  that  dreamed  great  dreams  of 
vast  wildernesses  in  the  far  north,  but  go  we 
must.  McWhinnie  had  given  the  order,  and 
the  ox  was  due  back  at  its  stable  near  our  tent. 
So  off  we  paddled. 

Three  miles  above  the   Hudson   Bay  post  we 

landed  on  a  point  to 
consult  an  Indian  who 
knew  part  of  the  region 
into  which  we  were 
bound.  He  proved  to 
be  the  noblest  red  man 
we  had  met  in  our 
travels.  His  camp  was 
well  -  appointed  and 
cared  for,  his  people 
warmly  clothed,  he 
had  no  fewer  than  four 
roomy  tents  for  his 
family,  while  large 
slices  of  black  moose 
meat  hanging  to  smoke 
over  a  slow  fire,  and 
hundreds  of  feet  of 
first-class  fishing-nets 
drying  on  bushes,  told 
of  good  living.  His 
beautiful  papoose,  swaddled  and  strapped  after  the 
ancient  manner  of  the  red  man,  he  stood  against 
a  tent-pole  for  us  to  photograph.  Seating  him- 
self on  a  log,  he  took  up  a  piece  of  birch-bark 
and  drew  for  us  a  rough  but  intelligent  map  of 
the  Whitefish  system  as  far  as  his  knowledge 
carried  him.  After  buying  a  quantity  of  half- 
smoked  moose  meat  from  him,  we  pushed  off. 
Wind  blew  and  waves  ran  high  on  the  lake,  and, 
birch-bark  canoes  being  by  no  means  heavy 
weather  craft,  we  were  obliged  to  run  for  shelter 
under  islands  and  points,  dodging  our  way  until 
we  came  to  the  mouth  of  the  dismal  Whitefish. 
I  will  not  go  into  the  details  of  our  journey 
up  this  river,  nor  tell  of  the  magnificent  falls 
and  wild  rapids  round  which  we  were  under  the 
necessity  of  carrying  our  heavy  effects,  nor  of  the 
splendid  fishing  we  met  with  at  our  first  camping 
ground.  Ultimately  we  ran  out  of  the  river,  and 
floated  on  the  breast  of  a  splendid  lake  which 
the  Indians  call  Makami,  and  here  we  stepped 
upon  the  skirts  of  reluctantly  retreating  winter. 


I'hoto. 


THREE    MEN     IN    THE    WILDS. 


99 


On  the  evening  of  May  27th  a  storm  drove 
us  to  camp  earlier  than  was  our  wont.  Late 
next  day  we  made  a  start,  but  had  gone  only  a 
short  distance  when  a  wild  snowstorm  swooped 
down  upon  us,  driving  us  for  shelter  to  a  large, 
low,  swampy  island,  where,  wet  through  and  with 
teeth  chattering,  we  built  fires  and  for  the 
remainder  of  the  day  watched  the  snow  drape 
forests  and  rocks  in  white.  Friday,  the  29th,  was 
a  miserable  day  of  blustering  gales  and  scurries 
of  sodden  snow,  and  that  night  it  froze  hard. 
Saturday  was  a  little  better,  but  not  much.  By 
this  time  we  were  heartily  tirtd  of  awaiting  the 
pleasure  of  the  weather,  and  although  the 
guides,  who  understood  things,  were  loth  to 
venture  out  upon  the  rough  lake,  we  gave  the 
order. 

The  crossing  of  that  lonely  lake  was  by  far 


:I    SUGGESTED   TO    OUR    INDIAN    THAT   WE    HAD    BETTER    KEEP   CLOSER   TOGETHER. 


the  most  dangerous  part  of  our  trip  ;  indeed,  we 
were  too  ignorant  of  the  position  of  things  to 
fully  understand  the  danger.  The  guides  were 
under  no  misapprehension  and  had  a  very 
anxious  time  of  it.  I  got  a  hint  of  the  danger 
when,  noticing  that  the  canoes  were  drifting  far 
apart,  I  suggested  to  our  Indian  that  we  had 
better  keep  closer  together  in  case  of  accident 
to   a    canoe.       He   grimly    answered    that    the 


canoe  that  went  over  must  accept  her  fate,  as 
to  attempt  a  rescue  would  but  add  to  the 
extent  of  the  disaster.  Canoes  are  not  built 
for  life-saving,  I  gathered  from  the  way  he  spoke. 
It  was  grand  to  see  how  the  young  French- 
Canadian  who  paddled  Peters  handled  his 
canoe  in  the  waves.  He  watched  the  lake  to 
windward,  like  a  polo-player  watches  the  green. 
One  moment  he  would  back  water  to  allow  a 
wave  larger  than  ordinary  to  heave  past  ;  the 
next  moment  he  would  paddle  like  one  possessed 
and  shoot  his  canoe  from  under  the  very  crest 
of  a  curler.  He  skipped  in  and  out  among  those 
waves  as  dexterously  as  a  Highlander  doing  a 
sword  dance. 

This  storm  proved  to  be  winter's  death  flurry. 
Sunday  was  a  blazing  hot  day.  Mosquitoes  had 
troubled  us  somewhat  before  the  snowstorm,  but 

now  they  flew  at 
us  in  angry  my- 
riads. We  were 
just  on  the  point 
of  beginning  to 
grumble  at  them 
when  down  upon 
us  came  the  over- 
lords of  that  re- 
gion, the  black 
flies.  There  are 
other  wild  beasts 
in  these  wilds, 
but  they  all 
knock  under  to 
the  black  fly.  He 
chases  the  bear 
to  the  highest 
tire  tup,  where 
the  wind  helps 
Bruin  to  sweep 
the  fly  away  :  he 
drives  the  frantic- 
moose  into  the 
lake  until  only  a 
head  shows :  and 
he  quickly  makes 
every  other  crea- 
ture that  roams 
the  woods  long 
for  a  land  of  per- 
petual wini 
In  appearance  the  black  fly  is  much  lik 
half-grown  house  fly  :  in  effect  he  is  epitomized 
panic.  His  flight  is  silent,  his  ways  crawly,  his 
touch  so  light  that  you  do  not  feel  him  com* 
go,  while  his  bite  remains  painless  long  enough 
to  allow  him  to  get  away  safely.  The  mosquito 
is  a  gossiping  fool  to  him.  Wait  till  the  poi 
he  has  planted  in  you  begins  to  stir  !  For  every 
bite  a  lump  rises,  and  each  lump  is  a  whole 


IOO 


THE    WIDE    WORLD     MAGAZINE 


River.     What 


world  of  maddening  irritation  and  "pain.  When 
ever  we  drew  near  the  shore  he  met  us  in  a 
black  fog.  At  one  particular  portage  he  came 
so  thick  that  when  a  comrade  stood  twenty  feet 
away  he  looked  like  a  swirling  pillar  of  smoke. 
I  do  not  like  to  write  about  the  black  fly.  for  he 
turns  life  in  the  woods  into  a  tragedy. 

On  June  2nd  we  ran  up  against  the  impossible. 
We  had  navigated  Makami  River  and  crossed 
two  small  lakes  when,  on  entering  a  third  lake, 
we  found  ourselves  confronted  by  mountains,  the 
tops  of  which  we  had  made  out  two  days  before. 
Here  ended  all  chances  of  paddling  our  own 
canoes  any  farther  in  an  easterly  direction,  the 
way  we  had  set  our  minds  on  going. 

June  4th  found  us  paddling  for  civilization, 
and  that  night  we  camped  on  the  end 
of  a  portage  on  the  Makami 
with  paddling  and  the  flies 
and  mosquitoes  we  were  quite 
done  up.  In  the  smoke  of  the 
<  amp  fire  we  noble  three  sat,  our 
heads  in  our  hands,  each  feeling 
inclined  to  give  up  the  intermin- 
able fight  with  the  pests.  In  the 
gloaming  there  brushed  past  us 
two  Indians,  who  launched  a 
canoe  and,  without  a  word  to  us, 
waited.  1'resent!}  down  the  port- 
age came  a  fat  squaw,  her  back 
heaped  high  with  bundles,  while 
by  a  string  she  led  an  immense 
brindle  cat. 

Xow  the  cats  of  this  region, 
being  ferocious  things,  are  1. 
tied  by  the  neck  to  the  tent- 
pole,  and  on  a  journey  are  led 
by  a  string.  At  times  the  cat 
rides  on  the  squaw's  shoulder, 
being  assisted  to  that  perch  by 
a  sweeping  jerk  at  the  string 
which,  almost  dislocating  the 
brute's  neck,  picks  her  out  of 
the  grass  and  volleys  her  on  to 
her  perch.  There  she  clings  for 
dear  life,  spitting  wickedness  at 
every  living  thing.  As  the 
squaw  brushed  past  McWhinnie 

■hose  back  was  towards  her 
—  the  cat  opened  its  mouth 
and  hung  back.  The  squaw, 
with    no    more    ado.  the 

string  one  mighty  tug,  and  with  a 
squall  of  anger  and  tear  the  cat 
swept  into  the  air.  McWhinnie 
heard  the  squall,  and,  glancing 
wildly  round,    beheld    a    spread- 


eagled  cat,  with  glassy  eyes  glaring,  teeth 
gleaming,  and  the  claws  of  four  great 
paws  spread  wickedly  wide,  coming  hurtling 
through  the  air  apparently  straight  upon 
him!  The  woods  rang  to  McWhinnie's  hi 
of  consternation  as  he  flung  himself  headlong 
down  the  slippery  bank  and  almost  into  the 
rapids. 

By  the  time  we  got  him  out  the  squaw 
was  paddling  the  canoe  into  the  wild  waters 
below  rapids,  the  vicious-looking  cat  still  clinging 
to  her  shoulder  and  spitting  defiance  at  us.  It 
was  not  till  we  were  about  to  turn  in  that 
McWhinnie  spoke.     He  said  : — 

"  Roil  me  if  you  ever  catch  me  in  this  stricken 
land  again,  where  oxen  bite  and  cats  fly  !  Boil 
me  ;  I  ask  it  as  a  favour.1' 

We  promised. 


MCWHINNIE    BF.HE.LlJ    A    SPREAD-EAGLEU   CAT   COMING    IIUI.Ii  AIR. 


A 


A  Gigantic  Upheaval — A  Freak  of  Nature — "  The  Place  of  Death.*'  etc..  etc. 


HE  building  of  railroads  in  the  moun- 
tainous country  of  the  South-Western 
States  of  America  is  often  beset  by 
many  difficulties.  The  greatest  of 
these  are  the  numerous  mountains 
through  which  the  lines  run.  Often  the  whole  side 
of  a  peak  has  to  be  blown  away  with  dynamite  in 
order  to  gain  just  a  few  feet  of  space  upon  which 
to  lay  two  rails  and  run  a  track.  When  the 
White  River  division  of  the    Missouri  Pacific 


being;  built  through  the  Ozark  Moun- 
tains  recently  tunnels  were  made  through  many 
high  peaks,  while  across  others  a  deep  trail 
blown  away.  The  striking  photograph  here  re- 
produced shows  the  explosion  of  no  fewer  than 
six  thousand  pounds  of  dynamite  during  the 
construction  of  the  White  River  Railroad.  In 
the  tremendous  upheaval  that  followed  over  five 
hundred  tons  of  rock  were  dislodged,  and  a  peak 
almost  thirtv  feet  in  height  was  levelled. 


-  <vm  m] 


PLOSION   OF   SIX  THOUSAND    POUNDS   OF    I 


102 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


A  charming  old  custom,  which  still 
exists  in  Hawaii,  is  the  subject  of 
our  next  photograph,  which  was  taken 
recently  at  Honolulu.  People  leaving 
the  island  are  decorated  by  their 
friends  with  wreaths  and  bouquets 
of  sweet-smelling  flowers — a  sort  of 
fragrant  souvenir  of  a  pleasant  visit. 
As  will  be  seen  from  the  photograph, 
the  lady  is  literally  garlanded  from 
head  to  foot  with  blossom.  These 
floral  tributes  are  much  appreciated 
by  visitors,  and  it  would  be  a  thou- 
sand pities  if  the  custom  were  allowed 
to  die  out. 

In  one  of  the  leading  cigar  stores 
of  Los  Angeles,  California,  there  is  a 
unique  cigar-cutter  arrangement  which 


A  REMARKAP.LE  FREAK  OF  NATURE — A  TREE  GROWING  UP 

From  a)  through  a  disused  chimney.  [Photo. 

Nature  plays  curious  tricks  at  times.  On  the 
estate  of  the  Hon.  Henry  Cork,  St.  Margaret's 
Bay,  Jamaica,  West  Indies,  is  the  old  abandoned 
sugar-mill  shown  in  the  accompanying  photo- 
graph. The  ruins  are  rapidly  becoming  hidden 
by  the  luxuriant  vegetation,  but  the  most  re- 
markable thing  about  the  place  is  that  a  tree 
has  grown  up  through  the  entire  length  of  the 
unused  chimney,  and  is  already  beginning  to 
stretch  out  its  branches  at  the  top.  The  tree 
has  not  taken  root  at  the  top  of  the  chimney, 
but  extends  through  its  entire  length,  the  trunk 
almost  filling  it  in  places. 

A  correspondent  in  Kimberley,  South  Africa, 
sends  us  the  little  snap- 
shot here  reproduced. 
"  The  house  seen  in 
this  photograph,"  he 
writes,  "  is  built  entirely 
of  old  military  pails 
fitted  one  over  the 
other.  There  are 
several  other  buildings 
near  Kimberley  made 
of  the  same  curious 
materials,  and  very  ser- 
viceable dwellings  they 
make.  All  the  houses 
are  inhabited  by  na- 
tives." This  house  built 
of  pails  is  almost  as 
quaint  in  its  way  as 
the  beer-bottle  hut  we 
illustrated  some  time 
ago. 


A    HOUSE    BUILT    ENTIRELY    OK' OLD    PAILS. 

From  a  Photo. 


A  l_HAK.MI.NG  OLD  HAWAIIAN' 
CUSTOM— PEOPLE  LEAVING  THE 
ISLAND  ARE  DECORATED  BY 
THEIR  FRIENDS  WITH  WREATHS 
OF    FLOWERS. 

From  a  Photo. 

attracts  the  attention 
of  almost  every  tourist 
visiting  the  city.  The 
ordinary  cigar  -  cutter 
has  a  small  receptacle 
underneath  it  capable 
of  holding  compara- 
tively few  cuttings, 
and  it  has  frequently 
to  be  cleared  out.  It 
occurred  to  the  pro- 
prietor of  the  store  in 
question,  therefore,  to 


ODDS    AND    ENDS. 


i°3 


take  away  the  bottom  of  the  cigar-cutter  and 
allow  the  cuttings  to  fall  into  a  space  below  the 
counter.     While  having  the  space  prepared,  the 


A    NOVEL    CIGAR-CUTTER — THE    SMOKER    V 
CLIPPING    FIRST    TOUCHES    ONE    OF   THE    LINES 
SHOWN    RECEIVES   A    MONEY    PRIZE. 

From  a  Ph,- 


nearing  the  point  where  some  fortunate  smoker 
will  receive  twenty-five  dollars.  When  a  line 
has  almost  been  reached  business  becomes 
naturally  very  brisk  with  the  enterprising  cigar 
merchant,  every  purchaser  hoping  that  his 
clipping  will  be  the  fortunate  one  to  touch  the 
line. 

The  photo,  next  shown  has  a  grim  interest. 
It  depicts  "  T'chaka's  Rocks,-'  or  the  "  Place  of 
Death,"  near  Port  Shepstone,  Natal.  This  is 
the  place  where  T'chaka,  the  great  Zulu  King, 
executed  his  prisoners.  From  the  great  rock 
shown  in  the  photograph  the  unfortunate  victims 
were  hurled  thirty  feet  down  into  the  angry 
waves  below.  The  fierce  undercurrents  swept 
them  out  to  sea,  where  the  waiting  sharks 
fought  for  their  bodies.  What  awful  scenes 
these  silent  rocks  must  have  witnessed  in  the 
days  when  the  tyrant  T'Chaka  spread  terror  and 
bloodshed  o\er  the  country! 


merchant  was  struck  with  a  bright  idea. 
He  had  mirrors  placed  so  that  the  box 
could  be  seen  plainly,  and  offered  a 
series  of  prizes  to  the  smoker  whose  clipping 
first  reached  certain  lines  marked  on  the  out- 
side glass.  The  first  clipping  was  dropped  into 
the  receptacle  in  November,  1898,  and  every 
day  since  that  time  some  additions  have  been 
made  to  the  store.  It  is  estimated  that  there 
are  now  eight  hundred  thousand  clippings  in 
the  receptacle  !  It  has  never  been  opened  or 
disturbed  in  any  way  since  it  was  established. 
Two  prizes  of  ten  dollars  and  two  of  five  dollars 
have  been  paid,  and  the  pile  of  cigar-ends  is 


'  THE   PLACE   OF    DEATH,"   NEAR   SHEPSTONE,  NATAL — FROM   THESE    ROCKS    THE 
ZULU   TYRANT    TCHAKA   USED   TO    HURL    HIS    PRISONFRS    DOWN    1ST"    IHF    SEA. 

From  a  photo. 


The  Chinese  settlers  in  San  Francisco  carry 
on  a  large  trade  with  their  native  country  by 
the  exportation  of  dried  fish.  The  photo,  on 
the  following  page  illustrates  the  method  of 
curing,  which  is  certainly  not  lacking  in  sim- 
plicity. It  will  be  noticed  that  the  ground  is 
completely  covered  with  fish,  which  are  spread 
out  to  dry  in  the  sun.  As  the  climate  is  a 
hot  one,  the  effluvia  from  the  fields  thus 
covered  can  be  better  imagined  than  de- 
scribed,  but  the  flavour  imparted  to  the  fish  is 


io4 


THE    WIDE     WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


particularly  appre- 
ciated by  the  Celes- 
tial palate.  After 
the  fish  are  com- 
pletely dried  the 
Chinamen  —  who 
appear  quite 
oblivious  to  their 
odoriferous  surround- 
ings—  rake  them  up 
and  pack  them  in 
large  bags  ready  for 
shipment.  They  use 
a  curious  method  of 
weighing,  the  bags 
being  suspended  on 
one  side  of  a  pole 
over  a  man's  shoul- 
der while  the  weight  is 
attached  to  the  other 
end.  Such  things  as 
scales  savour  too 
much  of  the  "foreign 
devil  "  to  please  John 
Chinaman. 


From  a\ 


PACKING    liKIhl)    HISH    KOK    EXPORTATION    TO   CHINA. 


[Photo. 


Cast  Away  amonc 

THE  flLIPINOS 


^f 


HnOseBOiltoj-Patls 


THE   NOVEL   MAP-CONTENTS   OK    "THE   WIDE   WORLD    MAGAZINE,''    WHICH    SHOWS   AT    A    GLANCE    THE    LOCALITY   OK    EACH    ARTICLE 

AND   NARRATIVE   OK    ADVENTURE    IN    THIS    NUMBER. 


"THE  CRAZY   TRAIN-WRECKER   PITCHED   FORWARD." 

(see  page  114.) 


The  Wide  World  Magazine. 


Vol.  XIV. 


DECEMBER,    1904. 


No.  80 


HOW  JEANNE  SAVED  THE  PAY=TRAIN. 

THE    STORY    OF    A    GIRL'S    HEROISM. 
By  Philip  G.  Walters. 

An  exciting  romance  of  the  railroad.     Two  train-wreckers  laid  a  dastardly  plot  to  derail  a  Govern- 
ment pay-train  and  secure  the  money  it  was  carrying.     Only  a  sixteen-year-old  girl  stood  between 
them    and  success,  and    her  they  made  a  prisoner.      How  she   effected    her   escape    and    saved    the 
train,  with  the  tragic  denouement  that  followed,  is  set  forth  below. 


OR  several  years 
prior  to  the 
month  of  Sep- 
tember, 1864,  an 
uncouth,  giant- 
framed  wood  -  chopper  —  a 
man  past  his  sixtieth  year— 
and  his  young  son  Jem  had 
been  the  objects  of  grave 
suspicion  in  the  backwoods 
district  of  the  Allegheny 
Mountains,  forty  miles  west 
of  Harper's  Ferry. 

There  had  been  within 
the  past  three  or  four  years 
many  most  mysterious  dis- 
appearances of  individuals 
known  to  have  possessed 
bulky  wallets.  The  paths 
pursued  by  the  men  figuring 
in  these  disappearances  were 
all  more  or  less  accurately 
traced  to  the 
neighbourhood 
of  "  Death  Val- 
ley," a  remote 
and  heavily- 
timbered  ravine 
away  back  in 
the  mountains, 
near  which  the 
red-haired  man 
— known  by  the 
doubly  -  sugges- 
tive sobriquet  of 
"  Red  "  Bour- 
quin  —  and  his 
son  Jem  had 
pre  -  empted  a 
timber  right. 

While  these 
mysterious  dis- 
appearances 

Vol.  xiv. — 14. 


JEANNE    G, 
From  a] 


IHE     PAY-TRAIN      KKllM 


DESTKUCTION. 


[Photo. 


GENERAL    VIEW   OF   THE   COUNTRY    IN     THE         DEATH    VAI.I  EN' 
Photo.  by\  BOURQUIN    AND    HIS   SON    LIVED. 


were  generally  attributed  to 
this  pair,  it  was  said,  at  the 
same  time,  that  the  son  Jem 
had  no  hand  in  any  deed  of 
violence  in  connection  with 
them  ;  that,  in  fact,  the  old 
man  managed  always  to  keep 
the  boy  in  total  ignorance  of 
the  lugubrious  outcome  of 
their  little  business  ventures 
— the  son  being  a  willing 
participant  in  the  robberies, 
but  strongly  abhorring  the 
taking  of  life  which  was  sus- 
pected to  have  followed. 

Efforts  were  made  from 
time  to  time  to  bring  these 
crimes  home  to  the  pair,  but 
the  unsettled  condition  of 
the  section,  coupled  with  the 
red-headed  man's  "foxiness," 
rendered  all  attempts  futile. 
Then  there 
came  a  time 
when  the  neigh- 
bourhood of 
"  Death  Valley  " 
was  shunned. 
So  uncanny  was 
its  reputation 
that  nothing 
would  tempt  a 
timber-land 
prospector,  no 
matter  how 
brave  a  man,  to 
go  farther  in 
that  direction 
than  the  last 
settled  lumber 
camp. 

As   a    natural 
result  the  pseudo 


REGION,   WHERE        RED 

[Grant. 


io8 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


wood-chopper  and  his  son  presently  found 
themselves  face  to  face  either  with  honest 
tie-cutting  or  raising  the  wind  otherwise  along 
original  lines.  Since  nobody  came  along  to 
be  robbed,  the  highwayman  business,  of  course, 
died  a  natural  death.  No  one  realized  this 
more  thoroughly  than  "Red"  Bourquin  himself. 
And  as  the  days  passed  into  weeks,  and  weeks 
into  months,  the  outlook  in  "  Death  Valley," 
from  his  point  of  view,  grew  steadily  worse. 

One  evening  in  September  this  strange  couple 
were  sitting,  despondently  ruminating,  in  the 
doorway  of  their  log  shack.     Said  the  rascally 


'  THIS   STRANGE   COUl'LE   WERE   SITTING   IN    THE    DOORWAY   OK    THEIR    LOG   SHACK. 


old  backwoodsman,  presently,  after  cudgelling 
his  brain  much  longer  than  was  his  wont  :  — 

"  Now  then,  Jem — here's  a  scheme.  It's  a 
winner  for  sure,  and,  what's  more,  no  one  don't 
need  to  be  killed,  barrin'  accidents." 

His  son's  unreasonable  reluctance  to  taking 
life,  by  the  way,  "  Red  "  Bourquin  had  never  fully 
understood.  He  had  tried  hard  to  bring  the 
lad  to  his  own  way  of  regarding  the  material 
side  of  life — including  other  people's  right 
thereto — but  without  success. 

The  scheme  which  the  villainous  old  back- 
woodsman now  proceeded  to  outline  was  as 
follows.  By  some  lucky— or  unlucky — chance 
word  had  reached  the  old  rascal  that  upon  the 
night  of  Thursday,  September  17th,  close  upon 
eleven  o'clock,  a  Government  pay-train,  bound 
for  Baltimore  City,  would  pass  through  the 
string  of  black  tunnels  under  the  Allegheny 
Mountains.      The  train   would   consist   of  one 


coach  beside  the  pay-car,  and  a  locomotive. 
There  would  be  four  or  five  train-men,  in 
addition  to  the  paymaster  and  his  assistant, 
aboard  the  train  ;  while  a  large  sum  of  ready 
money  would  be  carried  to  pay  off  several  com- 
panies of  discharged  Federal  soldiers  in  Balti- 
more, whose  enlistment  in  the  Civil  War  had 
expired. 

While  pondering  the  matter,  seeking  a 
feasible  plan  whereby  he  could  lay  his  dis- 
honest hands  upon  these  greenbacks  of  Uncle 
Sam,  the  wood-chopper  had  suddenly  recalled 
the  signal-station  at  the  eastern  end  of  the  last 

tunnel.  At  the  head  of  a 
lonely  Allegheny  moun- 
tain ravine  where  this 
tunnel  terminated,  the 
Baltimore  and  Ohio  Rail- 
way had  stationed  a 
watchman  and  signal- 
tender.  Close  to  the 
mouth  of  the  tunnel  a 
small,  red-painted  shack 
had  been  erected  for  his 
accommodation,  and  for 
the  storing  of  the  signal- 
flags  and  lamps.  The 
signal-house  was  also  pro- 
vided with  a  mechanical 
device  along  a  wall  for 
the  throwing  and  con- 
trolling of  the  tunnel 
switches,  of  which  there 
were  four. 

A  few  yards  up  the 
mountain  there  was  a 
small  hut — that  and  the 
little  red-painted  signal- 
house  being  the  only 
structures  of  any  description  within  miles. 

It  had  occurred  to  the  old  rascal  how  simple 
it  would  be  to  capture  the  signalman,  tie  him  to 
the  posts  of  a  bed  in  the  hut,  where  he  slept, 
and  then  set  the  switches  so  that  the  rails  would 
fail  to  meet,  meanwhile  throwing  a  "  bunch  "  of 
false  signals  to  the  pay-train.  These  trains,  by 
the  way,  have  right  of  track,  as  a  rule,  over 
all  other  traffic,  and  seldom  shut  off  steam  in 
running  through  tunnels. 

The  resulting  smash-up,  the  wood-chopper 
figured,  should  be  so  satisfactory  to  the  prospec- 
tive wreckers  that  "just  plain  accidents"  ought 
to  dispose  of  the  few  men  aboard  the  train. 

Somewhat  illogically,  the  old  man  convinced 
the  over-particular  Jem  that  unavoidable  fatali- 
ties of  this  sort  could  not  be  put  down  to  their 
account.  Leaving  minor  details  to  be  arranged 
later,  this  was  a  rough  outline  of  the  wily  old 
wood-chopper's    plot.       If   all    went   well    the 


HOW    JEANNE    SAVED    THE    PAY-TRAIN. 


109 


finances  of  the  two  denizens  of  "  Death  Valley  " 
would  be  replenished  lavishly. 

Now,  it  so  chanced  that  the  regular  signal- 
tender  at  the  dismal  little  tunnel-station  which 
was  to  be  the  scene  of  this  infamous  plot  was 
away  from  his  post  upon  this  17th  day  of 
September,  and  that  in  his  place  his  young  sister 
Jeanne  was  temporarily  in  charge  of  the  signals. 

Jeanne  Garth,  a  sixteen-year-old  girl,  had 
come  down  to  the  tunnel-station  that  morning 
from  her  home  in  Harper's  Ferry  to  visit  her 
brother  Henry,  the  signal-tender,  "  between 
trains." 

It  is  Jeanne  Garth,  spinster,  who  now,  many 
years  later,  gives  me  the  details  of  this  thrilling 
night  adventure  with  train-wreckers,  modestly 
attempting  to  minimize  her  own  heroic  share  in 
the  exciting  happenings  of  the  night. 

A  very  commonplace  sequence  of  events, 
which  I  will  not  dwell  upon,  had  put  Jeanne  in 
charge  of  the  signals  during  a  supposedly  brief 
absence  of  her  brother  a  few  miles  down  the 
line.  Unaccountably,  however,  he  failed  to 
return,  according 
to  his  .promise, 
by  the  last  regu- 
lar train  before 
midnight. 

T bus  the 
young  girl,  to  her 
dismay,  found 
herself  con- 
fronted with  the 
prospect  of  a 
solitary  vit^il,  ex- 
tending through- 
out the  dark 
hours  before  mid- 
night, with  the 
sole  companion- 
ship of  prowling 
wild  beasts.  Only 
a  few  days  before 
a  savage  black 
bear  had  been 
killed  in  the  next 
tunnel. 

To     be     sure, 
there  was  her  brother's  collie  dog,  Rab.     That 
fickle    animal,    however,   after   passing   an   hour 
with  the  youthful  signal-tender,  had  then  taken 
himself  off  into  the  hills. 

Jeanne  believed  that  at  least  she  need  have 
no  fears  of  unwelcome  callers.  Whole  weeks 
often  passed  at  the  little  station  without  sight 
of  a  strange  face,  save  those  of  the  passengers 
on  the  trains. 

As  it  got  later  and  darkness  fell,  the  girl 
lighted  the  long  row  of   signal-lanterns   in    the 


little  shack  and  began  to  read,  striving  bravely 
to  keep  her  mind  off  her  gloomy  surroundings. 

It  was  after  eight  o'clock  when  she  was 
suddenly  startled  by  hearing  the  collie  set  up 
a  furious  barking  a  short  distance  up  the  moun- 
tain side — quick,  sharp  yelps,  which  speedily 
gave  way  to  a  muffled  whine,  and  then  ceased 
abruptly.  Jeanne  hurried  to  the  door  of  the 
shack.  Peering  out,  she  was  terrified  to  see  two 
men  running  rapidly  toward  the  signal-house. 
Both  wore  white  masks  across  the  lower  parts 
of  their  countenances,  had  their  coat-collars 
turned  up,  and  their  hats  slouched  low  over 
their  foreheads. 

The  frightened  girl  turned  instantly  to  shut 
herself  into  the  signal-house,  but  the  foremost 
of  the  running  pair,  a  veritable  giant,  was  too 
quick  for  her.  He  reached  the  door  of  the 
shack  in  a  single  bound,  and  before  Jeanne 
could  take  a  step  or  cry  out  he  had  thrown 
over  her  head  a  heavy  cloak,  which  completely 
stifled'  the  sound  of  her  voice. 

At  her  first  startled  glance  Jeanne  had  noticed 


HE    REACHED   THE    UOOR    OF    THE   SHACK    IN    A    SINGLE    BOUND. 


that  the  second  of  the  two  strangers  was  to  all 
appearances  a  mere  lad ;  but  she  had  no  time 
to  observe  anything  further. 

She  felt  herself  lifted  bodily  off  her  feet  in  a 
pair  of  powerful  arms,  and  then  borne  swiftly 
over  the  ground.  After  proceeding  what  seemed 
a  short  distance,  her  captor  paused ;  Jeanne 
heard  a  muffled  conversation,  and  a  door  opened 
close  to  her  head;  then,  after  having  taken  a 
few  steps,  the  cloak  was  removed  roughly  from 
her  head  and  shoulders,  and  she  found  herself 


no 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


in  the  small  hut  which  her  brother  called  home. 
Here  her  captors  proceeded  to  tie  her  securely 
to  the  posts  of  the  bed. 

In  spite  of  her  terror  she  noted  that  the  taller 
of  the  two  desperadoes  was  an  uncouth  back- 
woodsman, having  a  shock  of  coarse  red  hair, 
and  possessing  a  bristling  beard  of  the  same 
lurid  tinge,  which  the  mask  partly  concealed. 
He  was  clad  in  an  ill-fitting  Cardigan  jacket, 
rough  trousers,  and  the  heavy  boots  of  a  wood- 
chopper.  The  smaller  man  kept  himself  in  the 
background,  but  held  a  lighted  signal-lantern 
aloft  in  one  hand  for  the  big  man  to  work  by. 

Almost  directly  after  their  prisoner  had  been 
well  bound  the  two  men  began  wrangling, 
Jeanne's  own  fate  seeming  to  be  the  point 
upon  which  they  disagreed.  The  dispute  waxed 
hotter  and  hotter,  and  finally  knives  were  drawn  ; 
but  to  the  frightened  girl's  unspeakable  relief 
the  scene  of  the  battle  was  suddenly  removed 
from  her  sight  by  the  younger  stranger  taking 
to  his  heels,  pursued  by  his  companion. 

To  add  to  the  terror  of  Jeanne's  situation, 
now  that  she  was  left  to  herself,  a  fierce 
mountain  gale  sprang  up.  The  wind  came  down 
the  mountains  in  powerful  gusts,  sweeping 
through  the  funnel-shaped  ravine  and  into  the 
broad,  open  mouth  of  the  tunnel  with  a  roar 
like  the  boom  of  a  cannon.  The  fragile  hut 
rocked  and  trembled  in  the  blasts,  threatening 
every  moment  to  collapse,  while  the  rain  came 
down  like  a  deluge. 

Jeanne  strove  valiantly  not  to  give  way  to  her 
fears,  and  tried  to  figure  out  calmly  what  could 
have  brought  the  backwoodsmen  to  this  remote 
tunnel-station  at  night.  Why  did  they  wish  to 
imprison  her,  a  mere  girl  ?  Vaguely  she  began 
to  realize  that  their  visit  had  something  to  do 
with  the  signal-work,  and  that  it  boded  ill  to 
the  trains  running  through  the  string  of  tunnels. 

The  hut  was  now  pitch-dark,  the  lantern 
having  been  dashed  to  the  floor  and  extinguished 
in  the  combat  between  the  two  men. 

For  several  minutes  Jeanne  made  a  desperate 
attempt  to  loosen  the  ropes  which  held  her  a 
prisoner ;  but  she  finally  desisted,  the  bonds 
being  so  skilfully  arranged  as  to  cause  her 
torture  whenever  she  moved.  Then  the  awful 
thought  flashed  across  her  mind  that  the  big 
desperado,  having  succeeded  in  capturing  and 
murdering  his  youthful  partner,  intended  to 
come  back  to  the  hut  and  make  an  end  of  her ! 

The  horror  of  this  thought  and  the  terrifying 
experience  she  had  been  through  were  too  much 
for  her,  and  she  fainted.  Presently,  however,  a 
loud  crash  of  thunder  partially  recalled  her  to 
her  senses,  and  she  listened  apathetically  to  the 
heavy  downpour  of  rain. 

Suddenly  the  noise  began  to  abate,  and  in  the 


lulls  between  the  heavy  gusts  of  wind  she  heard, 
or  thought  she  heard,  cautious  footsteps  outside 
the  hut.  A  moment  more  and  there  came  the 
grating  of  a  key  in  the  lock  of  the  door.  Some- 
one was  stealthily  making  his  way  into  the  dark 
room. 

Jeanne  felt  a  cold  blast  of  air  strike  her  face 
as  the  door  was  pushed  open,  then  saw  a  dim, 
shadowy  form  —  almost  imperceptible  in  the 
darkness — -coming  slowly  towards  her  with 
extended  arms.  She  attempted  to  cry  out,  but 
her  voice  seemed  frozen  in  her  throat.  A  heavy 
hand  rested  for  a  moment  upon  her  upturned 
face,  and  she  knew  that  the  mysterious  visitor 
had  finally  discovered  her. 

To  Jeanne's  delight,  almost  instantly  she  felt 
the  cruel  ropes  begin  to  relax  ;  the  hands  of  the 
unknown  grasped  her  firmly  by  the  wrists,  and 
in  a  moment  she  found  herself  unbound  and 
free  !  For  a  moment  neither  the  girl  nor  her 
rescuer  spoke  a  word  ;  the  former  too  overcome 
by  the  sudden  change  in  her  fortunes,  the  latter 
seeming  to  be  struggling  with  some  emotion 
which  prevented  him  speaking. 

"  The  old  'un's  been  playin'  me  false,"  came 
at  length  to  the  young  girl's  ears  from  the  gloom, 
in  a  voice  trembling  with  the  fierce  passion  of 
the  untamed  backwoodsman  ;  and  Jeanne  knew 
then,  from  these  few  excited  words,  that  her 
rescuer  was  none  other  than  the  younger  of  her 
two  captors. 

From  what,  in  disjointed  and  almost  in- 
coherent sentences,  the  angry  lad  now  managed 
to  reveal  to  her,  the  prisoner  quickly  learned  all 
that  has  been  told,  both  as  to  the  identity  of  her 
captors  and  the  rascally  work  which  had  brought 
the  two  wood-choppers  down  to  the  almost 
deserted  tunnel-station  during  the  dark  hours  of 
night. 

"There's  murder  goin'  to  be  done  in  the  long 
tunnel  this  yere  night,"  said  the  stranger,  the 
tense  tone  snowing  the  effort  he  was  making  to 
control  the  anger  which  the  treachery  of  his 
parent  had  aroused. 

"The  agreement  was,"  the  voice  continued, 
"  that,  barrin'  accidents  in  the  smash-up,  nobody 
was  goin'  to  be  outed.  Now  father  has  gone 
an'  clean  broke  his  word.  He  says  nobody 
must  be  allowed  to  leave  the  tunnel  alive,  in 
case  they  should  happen  to  recognise  us  an' 
bring  down  the  cops  upon  us  !  Why,  the  can- 
tankerous old  catamount  ! "  Jem  hissed,  his 
fierce  anger  breaking  out  of  restraint  once  more 
at  the  recollection  of  his  fond  parent's  attack. 
"  He  even  tried  to  knife  me  I " 

Much  more  of  the  same  uncouth,  passionate 
language  ensued.  The  young  wood-chopper  was 
now  apparently  given  over  wholly  to  feelings  of 
revenge,  even  to  the  exclusion  of  his  own  profit 


HOW    JEANNE    SAVED    THE    PAY-TRAIN. 


in 


dodge 


in  the  prospective  train-robbery.  He  wanted 
now  to  get  square  with  his  treacherous  and 
murderous  parent. 

Jem  had  escaped  the  deadly  knife  by  a  clever 
in  the  dark,  and  had  then  cautiously 
doubled  back  to  the  hut,  a  plan  having  flashed 
across  his  angry  mind  whereby,  having  released 
the  prisoner,  she  might  thwart  the  entire  rascally 
plot. 

His  daring  plan  was  nothing  less  than  that 
Jeanne  should  creep  stealthily  through  the 
ravine  to  the  far  end  of  the  tunnel,  a  mile  away, 
over  the  roughest  of  dark  paths,  and  there  warn 
the  endangered  train — stop  it  outside  the  tunnel 
by  swinging  a  red  light  across  the  track. 

He  groped  about  the  room,  found  the  lantern, 
and  lighted  it  while  he  outlined  his  plan — one 
he  would  have  undertaken  willingly  himself  had 
the  circumstances  made  it  possible. 

It  was  a  hazardous  undertaking,  even  for  the 
bravest  of  men.  How  fearlessly  Jeanne  Garth 
instantly  set  forth,  nevertheless,  upon  this 
perilous  trip  through  the  storm-swept  ravine,  in 
the  darkness  of  night,  and  how  bravely  she  over- 
came every  obstacle  encountered,  I  will  now 
attempt  to  relate. 

Jeanne  realized  that  not  only  courage  was 
called  for,  but  that,  if  she  wished  to  save  the 
lives  of  those  human  beings  on  the  pay-train, 
now  resting  absolutely  upon  her  own  effort,  the 
most  instant  action  was  necessary. 

The  moment,  therefore,  that  her  strange  ally 
had  started  back  toward  the  tunnel,  somewhat 
fearful  lest  his  own  treachery  had 
been  discovered  by  the  "old 'un  " 
— and  Jim  knew  full  well  what  his 
fate  would  be  in  this  event — the 
girl  wrapped  a  man's  heavy  coat 
close  about  her,  drew  a  pair  of 
thick  "  German  socks "  over  the 
outside  of  her  shoes,  and  faced  the 
black  night,  carrying  the  lantern  to 
light  her  way. 

Almost  immediately  after  start- 
ing out  upon  this  hazardous  trip 
through  the  dark  ravine — she  was 
to  follow  the  gully  which  ran  along 
the  side  of  the  ridge  beneath  which 
was  the  long  tunnel — Jeanne  was 
obliged  to  pass  at  one  point  within 
fifty  feet  of  the  tunnel-entrance, 
where  at  any  instant  the  old  train- 
wrecker  was  likely  to  appear.  The 
bright  glare  from  the  shack,  with 
its  rows  of  lighted  signal-lamps, 
was  focused  full  upon  the  girl's 
crouching  form  as  she  sped  cau- 
tiously past  this  dangerous  point. 
Scarcely   had    she    left    this    peril     AS*™ 


behind  her  than,  as  she  stumbled  blindly  ahead 
over  the  rough  and  slippery  footway,  her  heart 
again  leaped  in  sudden  fright  as  the  cold  nose 
of  some  animal  pressed  against  her  free  hand. 
Springing  back  in  alarm  she  turned  the  lantern 
full  upon  the  supposed  wild  beast,  and  recog- 
nised with  delight  the  well-known  form  ol  the 
collie  dog  Rab,  whom  she  supposed  the  train- 
robbers  had  killed. 

A  gnawed  rope  dangling  from  the  faithful 
animal's  neck  told  a  part  of  his  recent  experi- 
ences ;  and  Jeanne  learned  later  how,  in  attempt- 
ing to  stop  the  objects  of  his  suspicion  near  the 
cottage,  he  had  been  captured  himself,  nothing 
but  the  intercession  of  the  younger  robber  having 
saved  his  life. 

With  courage  renewed  by  this  most  welcome 
companionship,  Jeanne  pressed  forward  almost 
gleefully.  When  she  had  started  from  the  cottage 
she  knew  that  she  had  about  an  hour — it  being 
then  close  to  ten  o'clock — in  which  to  reach  the 
cut-bank,,  three  miles  in  length,  between  the  first 
and  second  tunnels.  This  was  the  first  open 
spot  through  which  the  pay-train  would  pass 
west  of  the  signal-station.  An  hour  would  have 
been  ample  for  her  purpose,  had  not  the  fates 
apparently  conspired  to  throw  obstacles  in  her 
path.  Space  forbids  my  recounting  the  varied 
perils  she  encountered.  Time  after  time  she 
slipped  upon  the  treacherous,  rotting  leaves, 
falling  prostrate  upon  the  rain-soaked  earth. 
She  collided,  too,  in  particularly  dark  corners  of 
the  ravine,  with  the  giant  oaks  and  masses  of 


ON    THE    "CUT-BANK     — IT   WAS    NEAR    THIS    POINT    THAT    .!! 
GARTH    HOI'ED    TO    IN  TERCEPT  THE   PAY-TRAIN.  [PllOtO. 


112 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


rock  and  other  debris  deposited  in  her  path  by 
the  landslides.  Once  she  was  nearly  hurled  to 
her  death  in  slipping  upon  a  boulder  she  had 
leaped  upon  in  attempting  to  cross  a  raging 
mountain  torrent,  and  only  saved  herself  by 
clutching  at  the  projecting  roots  of  a  tree  on 
the  farther  bank. 

Hurrying    desperately   onwards,    in    spite   of 
every   obstacle,    determined    to    warn    the   un- 
suspecting men  on  the  flying  train  of  the  perils 
ahead,  Jeanne  was  barely  half-way  to  the  cut- 
bank  when  she  was  horrified  to  hear  the  loud 
shriek  of  a  locomotive  whistle  straight  ahead  of 
her.     She  realized  at   once    that    this   was    the 
warning  signal  of  the  doomed  pay-train  itself, 
now     rushing 
ahead  through  the 
cut-bank,  at  which 
spot    she    had 
counted  on  stop- 
ping it. 

So  intense  was 
the  poor  girl's 
grief  because  of 
her  failure  after 
the  strenuous 
effort  she  had 
made  ;  so  over- 
powering her  feel- 
ing of  horror  as 
she  pictured  the 
now  apparently 
certain  destruc- 
tion of  the  pay- 
train,  that  she  was 
unable  for  a  time 
to  move  or  to 
collect  her  be- 
wildered senses. 
Thus  a  whole 
moment  flew  by. 
Then  the  sicken- 
ing recollection 
suddenly  came  to 
her  that  the  train 
must  already  have 
covered  half  the 
distance  where 
tne  une  ran  in  tne  "she  only  saved  herself  my  clutching  at 

Open.  OK    A   TREE." 

One,    at     most 
two,  minutes  more  would  pass  by,  and  then  the 
speeding  locomotive  would  plunge  into  the  long 
tunnel. 

As  she  cast  a  wild,  despairing  glance  about 
her  on  all  sides,  the  girl's  eyes  suddenly  rested 
upon  a  low,  slatted  ventilator-box  placed  over 
an  air-shaft  a  few  feet  before  her,  which  extended 
from  the  upper  surface  to  an  opening — under 


grown 
would 


nearly  thirty  feet  of  solid  earth — in  the  tunnel 
roof.  The  sight  of  this,  and  a  lucky  recollection 
of  a  use  the  shaft  had  lately  been  put  to,  caused 
a  bright  idea  to  flash  across  Jeanne's  mind. 
She  would  enter  the  tunnel  through  the  air- 
shaft  and  warn  the  imperilled  train  ! 

She  remembered  that  men  had  been  at  work 
in  the  tunnel  at  this  point  repairing  a  slight 
caving  of  the  walls  and  renewing  a  number  of 
sleepers  which  the  damp  air  underground  had 
rotted.  For  their  accommodation  in  reaching  the 
surface,  and  also  to  hoist  debris  and  superfluous 
material  out  of  the  tunnel,  several  good-sized 
boxes,  made  of  wooden  slabs,  had  been  fastened 
by   stout    ropes    to  small   pulley-wheels    in    the 

slatted  ventilator- 
frame  at  the  sur- 
face. Surely,  if 
these  baskets 
would  carry  full- 
men,  they 
bear  the 
light  weight  of  a 
sixteen  -  year  -  old 
girl  ! 

Everything 
favoured  Jeanne's 
scheme.  She 
found  that  the 
top  had  been  re- 
moved from  the 
frame.  Grasping 
the  red  lantern 
fi  r  m  1  y  in  one 
hand,  so  that  by 
dangling  it  over 
the  side  of  the 
box  its  light  could 
be  seen  by  the 
approaching  train, 
she  clambered 
over  the  edge  of 
the  great  basket, 
which  was  fortu- 
nately at  the  sur- 
face, and  knelt  on 
the  bottom. 

Just     then     a 

second     shriek 

from   the   engine, 

as     it     plunged 

into   the   long    tunnel,   so   unnerved    the    brave 

girl    for   the  moment   that  she   nearly  lost    her 

balance   and    fell   into  the   black   shaft.       Only 

the    most    frantic    haste    now    upon    her    part 

could  save  the  train.     Already  she  could  hear 

the  low  rumble  of  the  on-rushing  engine,  and 

she  worked  desperately  to  start  the  box  on  its 

downward  journey.     Again  there  was  a  muffled 


[•HE    1'KOJECTING    ROOTS 


HOW   JEANNE    SAVED    THE    PAY-TRAIN. 


"3 


shriek  from  the  whistle  as  the  ponderous 
machine  bore  down  upon  her ;  the  whole 
tunnel  trembled  with  the  rush  of  the  train.  As 
the  box  began  to  sink  awful  despair  seized  upon 
the  girl's  mind  ;  she  feared  that  once  more 
she   would    be   too   late  ! 

With  a  long  line  of 
straight  track  in  front  (if 
him,  narrowing  gradually 
down  in  the  dark  distance 
until  the  parallel  rails 
seemed  to  unite,  Engineer 
Dean,  of  the  Government 
pay-train,  peering  ahead 
from  the  cab  window  of 
the  heavy  mountain-climb- 
ing engine  "  Henry  Clay," 
suddenly  saw,  by  the  light 
of  the  head-lamp,  a  dark, 
square  object  drop  swiftly 
from  the  roof  of  the 
tunnel,  five  hundred  feet 
down  the  narrowing  rails, 
and  then  rest  motionless 
in  the  centre  of  the  track. 
Whatever  mysterious  ob- 
ject this  was,  the  engineer 
noticed,  wonderingly,  that 
it  had  a  single  glowing 
red  eye.  Being  in  doubt 
as  to  what  the  obstacle 
was,  he  followed  the  rail- 
road's wise  regulation,  and 
stopped.  Then,  as  the 
locomotive  came  to  a 
standstill  near  the  mys- 
terious object,  so  that  the 
full  glare  from  the  head- 
light fell  across  it,  the 
startled  engineer  beheld  a 
bundled-up  human  form 
suddenly  separate  itself 
from  the  square  object, 
and     begin    to    swing    a 

red  danger-light  across  the  track.  Jumping 
quickly  to  the  ground,  the  driver  ran  for- 
ward along  the  track  to  meet  this  mysterious 
signaller. 

Jeanne  said  later  that  the  engineer  admitted 
to  her  that  he  had  grave  doubts  at  first  whether 
she  was  a  human  being  or  just  something  which 
had  come  down  through  the  air-shaft  in  a  land- 
slide off  the  mountains. 

Mud  was  plastered  thickly  upon  the  front 
of  the  heavy  coat,  and  there  were  broad 
splashes  of  soft  mud  upon  her  face.  The 
improvised  elevator-car  had  dropped  down  the 
shaft    so    much    more    swiftly    than    she   had 

Vol.  xiv.— 16. 


'the  full  glare  from  the  head-ught  fell  across  it 


anticipated  when  she  untied  the  rope  at  the  top 
that  the  poor  child's  hat  had  blown  off  and  her 
hair  was  in  utter  disorder. 

She   managed  somehow  to  stammer  out  an 
incoherent  explanation  of  the  state  of  affairs  to 

the  amazed  engineer,  tell- 
ing him  what  was  await- 
ing the  pay-train  a  short 
way  down  the  tunnel. 
She  also  attempted  to 
give  him  a  modest  account 
of  her  own  perilous  trip 
through  the  dark  ravine. 

Engineer  Dean  was  an 

old,  grey-haired  man,  and 

as  soon  as  he  realized 

in  part  what  the  brave 

child  had  accomplished 

all  by  herself  he  was  too 

overcome  to  utter  a  word, 

but    he   deliberately   bent 

•  over  and  kissed  Jeanne's 

muddy  face. 

The  Baltimore  Sun,  in 
its  account  of  this  thrilling 
rescue,  states  that  the 
voung  heroine  herself  was 
the  coolest  person  of  the 
seven  who  were  now 
assembled  in  the  broad 
circle  of  light  cast  by  the 
locomotive  head  -  light. 
The  other  train-hands  and 
the  men  from  the  pay- 
master's department  were 
visibly  excited  by  their 
narrow  escape  from  death, 
and  overcome  by  the  un- 
precedented heroism  of 
the  young  girl.  It  was, 
in  fact,  a  very  pale  faced 
assemblage  that  gathered 
in  a  circle  about  Jeanne 
near  the  bottom  of  the  air- 
shaft  in  the  tunnel. 
And  now  comes  the  climax  to  this  night  of 
perilous  adventure  :  a  denouement  that  would 
make  a  fitting  spectacle  to  close  the  most 
thrilling  melodrama.  Jeanne  had  asked  to  have 
the  dog  let  down— he  seemed  about  ready  to 
spring  after  her,  a  sheer  fifty  feet — and  one  of 
the  brakemen  was  pulling  himself  up  the  air- 
shaft  in  the  box  to  comply  with  her  wish. 

Meanwhile  the  Government  officials  and  the 
remaining  railway  men   were  concocting  a  plan 
for  the  surprise  of  the.  red-haired  train-wrecker- 
providing  that  scoundrel  should  not  have  already 
become  a'armed  and  made  his  escape. 

Suddenly,    above   the   fierce    hissing   of  the 


ii4 


THJE    WIDE    WORLD     MAGAZINE. 


escaping  steam  and  the  sound  of  their  own 
voices,  they  heard  two  shots  ring  out,  some 
distance  ahead  up  the  tunnel  and  out  of  their 
sight.  Almost  at  once  the  two  reports  were 
repeated.  A  brakeman  promptly  started  back 
toward  the  train  for  a  Winchester — a  weapon 
which  pay-trains  are  provided  with— for  intui- 
tively the  listeners  knew  that  the  shooting  meant 
trouble. 

As  they  watched  anxiously  the  little  crowd 
saw  a  young  boy  running  rapidly  toward  them 
down  the  broad  path  of  light  cast  by  the  engine 
head-light.  Before  he  had  covered  a  dozen 
paces,    however,    he   began    swaying   curiously. 


The  watchful  brakeman  with  the  Winchester, 
however,  was  just  one  second  too  quick  for  him. 
The  deafening  report  of  the  rifle  blended  with 
the  sharp  crack  of  the  revolver,  and  the  crazy 
train-wrecker  pitched  forward  upon  his  face, 
stone-dead. 

Thus  ended  the  murderous  career  of  "  Red  " 
Bourquin.  The  son,  when  they  picked  him  up, 
was  quite  dead.  He  had  evidently  persisted  to 
the  very  last  in  his  refusal  to  participate  in  the 
taking  of  life,  and  had  fallen  a  victim  to  his 
father's  maniac  rage. 

A  few  words  will  suffice  to  finish  my  story. 
Jeanne  and  her  faithful  companion,  Rab,  went 


Photo.  by\ 


THE    ENTKANCE    TO    K1NGSWOOD   TUNNEL,    WHEKE   THE    ADVENTURE    HAPPENED. 


\  Grant. 


He  fell  to  his  knees,  staggered  on  to  his  feet 
again,  took  three  or  four  unsteady  steps,  and 
then  fell  prone  and  lay  motionless. 

Then  a  second  figure  outlined  itself  suddenly 
upon  the  track  of  light — a  gaunt,  giant-framed 
creature,  bareheaded,  with  tangled  locks  of  fiery 
red  hair  flying  wild.  Suddenly  he  espied  the 
motionless  form  lying  a  few  yards  ahead  of  him 
up  the  track.  Bewildered  at  first  by  the  bright 
glare  of  light,  he  paused  abruptly  and  com- 
menced to  swing  a  revolver  in  a  purposeless 
way  about  his  head. 

The  glare  which  flashed  from  the  man's  eyes 
as  he  stood  revealed  to  the  horrified  spectators 
was  more  than  the  mere  fury  of  a  disappointed 
and  baffled  robber.  It  was  the  glare  of  insanity 
— the  outcome  of  a  fiendish  passion  rankling 
long  in  a  murderous  brain.    The  man  was  mad  ! 

Staring  through  the  bright  light  he  happened 
to  catch  sight  of  Jeanne  Garth  hurrying  towards 
him  with  the  others.  With  a  snarl  like  that  of  a 
wild  beast  he  levelled  his  weapon  full  at  the 
girl.  A  loud  cry  of  insane  delight  rang  out,  and 
then  the  wretched  man  pressed  the  trigger  ! 


through  with  the  belated  pay-train  that  night  to 
Harper's  Ferry,  one  of  the  brakemen  remaining 
in  charge  at  the  signal-station.  Jeanne's  brother 
showed  up  safely  the  following  day.  He  had 
been  knocked  unconscious  in  a  runaway  acci- 
dent, and  was  thus  unable  to  return  to  his  post 
as  arranged. 

The  bodies  of  the  two  train-wreckers  were 
buried  in  the  lonesome  precincts  of  "  Death 
Valley."  While  the  party  which  accompanied  the 
remains  were  exploring  the  old  log  shack  where 
the  supposed  wood-choppers  had  lived,  they 
found  countless  proofs,  in  small  bits  of  personal 
property,  which  convinced  them,  in  so  far  as 
they  needed  convincing,  that  the  victims  of 
the  many  mysterious  disappearances  in  that 
region  must  have  met  their  death  at  the  ruthless 
hands  of  "  Red  "  Bourquin. 

The  newspapers  mention  a  large  reward 
having  been  paid  to  Jeanne's  father  on  her 
behalf,  the  plucky  girl  saying  that  she  herself 
wanted  no  recompense  for  performing  a  simple 
duty.  This  part  of  the  story,  however,  the 
modest  lady  did  not  even  mention  to  me. 


• 


JiajorP.II.aPowellCotton. 

F.Z.S..  F./P.G.?- 


When,  in  igoi,  Sir  Harry  Johnston — the  discoverer  of  the  mysterious  okapi — announced  that  he  had 
found  a  five-horned  giraffe  the  news  was  received  with  much  interest  and  not  a  little  incredulity.  In 
this  article  Major  Powell-Cotton  describes  his  trip  to  British  East  Africa  in  quest  of  the  new  species, 

of  which  he  secured  some  splendid  specimens. 


N  1 90 1,  almost  simultaneously  with 
the  announcement  that  he  had 
secured  the  skin  of  the  mysterious 
and  elusive  okapi,  Sir  Harry  John- 
ston sent  news  that  he  had  dis- 
covered a  five-horned  giraffe  on  the  Gwashen- 
geshu  plateau,  which  lies  to  the  north-east  of 
Lake  Victoria  and  to  the  east  of  Mount  Elgon. 
This  latter  piece  of  information  aroused  almost 
as  much  popular  interest  as  the  former,  and 
also  some  little  incredulity,  one  letter  which 
appeared  in  the  papers  going  so  far  as  to 
suggest  that  the  number  five  was  probably  a 
telegraphic  error.  However,  when  Mr.  O. 
Thomas  described  the  specimens  before  the 
Zoological  Society  he  explained  that  all  old 
bull  giraffe  from  the  north  and  north-east 
of    Africa    possess    five    horns,    while    in    the 

*The  so-called  "horns"  of  the  giraffe  are  really  bony 
excrescences  of  the  skull  covered  with  skin.  The  pair  of 
horns  common  to  all  giraffe  are  those  found  crowning  the  skull 
above  the  eyes.  In  old  bulls  these  are  from  four  to  six  inches 
in  length,  are  often  very  rugged,  and  are  in  great  part  bare  of 
hair.  In  front  of  these  is  a  single  horn  or  lump,  which,  while 
prominent  in  the  northern  species,  is  represented  by  a  mere 
thickening  of  the  skull  in  the  southern  race.  In  addition  to 
these  three  horns,  the  presence,  in  the  northern  variety,  of 
another  pair,  about  the  size  of  hens'  eggs,  situated  a  little 
behind  and  above  the  ears,  has  caused  them  to  be  called  "  five- 
horned  giraffe." — The  Author. 


southern  giraffe  the  anterior  horn  was  much 
smaller,  the  posterior  pair  being  almost  invisible. 
The  Gwashengeshu  specimens  sent  home  by 
Sir  Harry  Johnston  were  considered  by  the 
Natural  History  authorities  to  be  identical  with 
the  true  northern  (or  Nubian)  form,  the  scientific 
name  of  which  is  Giraffa  camelopardalis ;  but, 
as  the  available  material  consisted  only  of  one 
head-skin  and  four  skulls,  it  seemed  to  me  that 
this  decision  was  based  on  somewhat  scanty 
evidence.  I  was  aware,  also,  that  in  respect  of 
other  varieties  our  national  collection  of  giraffe 
compared  unfavourably  with  those  of  our  Con- 
tinental neighbours,  who  were  devoting  much 
attention  to  perfecting  them.  When,  therefore, 
in  January,  1902,  I  started  on  an  expedition  to 
the  equatorial  regions  of  British  East  Africa  and 
Uganda,  on  my  way  to  the  Congo,  I  resolved 
that  I  would  do  what  in  me  lay  to  supplemenl 
its  deficiencies,  at  least  in  respect  of  the  five- 
horned  giraffe. 

A  study  of  the  game  rules  in  force  in  these 
districts  revealed  the  fact  that  no  one  except  a 
Commissioner  could  shoot  a  giraffe  -without 
incurring  various  pains  and  penalties ;  but, 
when  this  study  was  supplemented  by  personal 


Ii6 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


inquiries,  it  turned  out  that  this  prohibition 
applied  practically  to  white  sportsmen  only. 
Thus,  while  the  natives  could  slaughter  promis- 
cuously, and  the  Swahili  ivory  traders  usually 
shod  their  safaris  of  porters  with  giraffe-hide 
sandals,  the  naturalist  anxious  to  throw  light  on 
the  undetermined  species  of  these  animals  was 
entirely  debarred  from  collecting  them.  It 
therefore  occurred  to  me  that,  considering  the 
poverty  of  their  collection,  the  Museum  authori- 
ties would  probably  be  glad  to  give  what  help 
they  could  by  obtaining  for  me  the  required  per- 
mission from  the  Foreign  Office  ;  so  I  respectfully 
suggested  their  making  the  necessary  applica- 
tion, on  the  understanding  that  I  should  here- 
after present  them  with  specimens  at  my  own 
expense.  This  modest  expectation,  however, 
was  doomed  to  disappointment.  The  directors 
of  the  national  institution  refused  point-blank  to 
move  in  the  matter,  though  graciously  intimating 
their  willingness  to  accept  any  specimens  that 
might  come  their  way.  In  this  difficulty  I  be- 
thought myself  of  the  Hon.  Walter  Rothschild, 
a  naturalist  of  great  note,  and  one  who  is  always 
ready  to  assist  an  enterprise  calculated  to 
forward  any  branch  of  that  science.  He  at 
once  interested  himself  in  the  matter  and  pro- 
cured the  necessary  permission.  The  following 
is  a  brief  sketch  of  the  difficulties  I  encountered 
in  my  quest  of  the  five-horned  giraffe,  and  such 
success  as  finally  crowned  my  efforts. 

The  first  giraffe  which  I  saw  after  leaving 
Mombasa  was  on  the  way  from  Stony  Athi 
Station  to  Fort  Hall,  but,  as  the  five-horned 
variety  was  supposed  to  be  found  only  on  the 
Gwashengeshu  plateau,  I  did  not  pay  much 
attention  to  these.  On  arrival  at  Baringo  I 
learnt  from  the  Collector,  Mr.  Hyde  Baker,  that 
giraffe  sometimes  visited  the  eastern  side  of  the 
lake,  coming  from  the  Game  Reserve,  which  lies 
towards  Lake  Rudolf.  He  described  the 
big  bulls  as  being  almost  black  in  colour, 
and  this  being,  by  common  report,  one 
of  the  distinctive  marks  of  the  animal  I 
wanted,  my  hopes  rose  high.  The  rains  would 
probably  have  commenced  before  I  could  reach 
the  Gwashengeshu,  and  no  reply  had  come  to 
my  request  for  information  from  the  Acting 
Commissioner  of  Uganda;  so  I  decided  to 
search  for  them  here,  and  set  out  three  days 
after  my  friend  Mr.  Cobb  had  left  with  the 
greater  part  of  the  caravan  for  the  Uganda  Rail- 
way, on  his  way  home.  Ten  days'  search  over  a 
large  extent  of  territory  discovered  no  trace  of 
giraffe,  excepting  old  tracks  which  all  led  north- 
wards into  the  Reserve.  I  therefore  returned 
to  the  Government  station.  The  Collector 
next  applied  that  I  might  be  allowed  to  follow 
them,  but  received  the  reply  that,  although  I  had 


leave  to  shoot  the  animals,  I  was  forbidden  to 
do  so  while  they  were  in  the  Reserve,  which, 
being  tantamount  to  saying  that  1  might  shoot 
giraffe  where  there  were  none,  may  strike  the  lay 
mind  as  a  trifle  nonsensical,  though  it  is,  I  regret 
to  say,  quite  in  keeping  with  the  traditions  and 
practice  of  Foreign  Office  administration  in  East 
Africa.  The  natives,  as  I  have  already  stated, 
slay  the  giraffe  wherever  they  find  them,  and 
without  troubling  themselves  in  the  least  about 
any  imaginary  boundary-line,  on  one  side  of 
which  the  self-same  beast  may,  while  on  the 
other  it  may  not,  be  killed  ;  so  that  to  draw  this 
subtle  distinction  for  the  exclusive  benefit  of 
white  collectors  was  a  proceeding  which  for 
ingenious  absurdity  could  hardly  be  matched  by 
a  set  of  pig-tailed  mandarins. 

There  was,  therefore,  nothing  for  it  but  to 
sit  down  and  wait  till  the  giraffe  should  take  it 
into  their  heads  to  repass  the  mystic  boundary. 
Fortune  was  kinder  than  the  responsible-officials, 
and  at  last  the  Suk  tribesmen  brought  in  news 
that  a  small  herd  had  moved  south.  Almost  at 
the  same  time  a  party  of  my  men  returned  from 
the  rail,  and  I  made  a  fresh  start  on  June  3rd. 
We  climbed  the  first  two  steps  of  the  escarpment, 
making  our  way  over  rough,  stone-strewn  ground 
covered  with  thorn  trees,  then  crossed  the  spur 
of  a  hill  and  camped  by  a  little  pool,  where  the 
Suk  were  watering  their  flocks.  Two  days  later 
my  Masai  hunters  found  fresh  giraffe  tracks, 
which  we  followed  for  three  hours  (seeing  no 
fewer  than  six  rhino  on  the  way)  before  sighting 
the  animals  with  the  glasses.  By  this  time  it 
was  so  late  in  the  day  and  camp  so  far  off  that, 
even  if  I  shot  one,  I  could  not  hope  to  get  the 
skin  off  before  dark  ;  so  I  returned  to  the  nearest 
water  and  sent  for  my  men  to  pitch  camp  there. 

An  early  start  and  an  hour's  march  through 
thorn  scrub  brought  us  to  the  edge  of  a  great 
grass  plain,  dotted  about  on  which  were  eland, 
Grant's  gazelle,  rhino,  ostrich,  and  oryx,  while 
near  the  centre,  slowly  stalking  in  our  direction, 
were  three  giraffe.  At  length,  after  many  halts, 
all  three  reached  some  thorn  bushes  about  a 
thousand  yards  from  us,  and  we  started  towards 
them,  to  find  the  place  very  open  and  the 
bushes  affording  but  the  scantiest  of  cover. 
Leaving  all  my  men  behind,  I  crept  and 
crawled  forward  till  I  reached  a  clump 
of  dead  wood  some  hundred  and  fifty  yards 
from  the  nearest  beast.  With  the  aid  of  the 
glasses  I  decided  that  all  were  full-grown  cows, 
and,  as  the  South  Kensington  Museum  wanted 
one,  I  selected  the  largest  "  horns,"  and,  wait- 
ing till  their  owner  moved  into  the  open, 
fired  at  her  shoulder  with  my  Jeffery  -400 
cordite.  The  beast  reeled  and  almost  fell, 
but    recovered    and    turned    to   move   off    as 


IN    SEARCH    OF    THE    FIVE -HORNED    GIRAFFE. 


117 


-'*j. 


THE    FIKST   GIRAFFK    KILLED    AT    BAR1NGO,    NOW    AT   THE    SOUTH    KENSINGTON    MUSEUM. 

From  a  Photo. 

I  hit  it  with  the  other  barrel.  Her  com- 
panions had  meanwhile  quitted  their  feeding 
and  stood  looking  at  me  in  a  bewildered  sort 
of  way ;  nor  did  they  move  when  I  followed 
the  wounded  one.    To  end  it  quickly   I  fired 


its  being  set  up  at 
home.  It  stood  thir- 
teen feet  ten  inches, 
and  measured  eight 
feet  two  inches  in 
girth  behind  the 
shoulder.  The  blot- 
ches were  rich  red  in 
colour,  of  all  shapes, 
with  broken  edges, 
but  each  correspond- 
ing more  or  less  to 
the  side  of  the  blotch 
next  it,  as  though  a 
piece  of  crazy  patch- 
work had  been  un- 
picked, frayed,  and 
stitched  on  to  a  cream- 
yellow  ground,  leaving 
as  equal  a  margin 
round  each  patch  as 
possible.  On  the 
front  of  the  neck, 
however,  there  was 
much  more  groundwork  showing,  while  the 
lower  part  of  the  legs  from  just  above  the  knee 
were  a  plain  dirty  cream  colour.  Having 
skinned  the  carcass  we  commenced  paring 
down     the    hide,    a    tedious     process,    which 


From  a\ 


ALL    HANDS   AT   WOKK    FAKING    DOWN    THE   UIKAFKE   SKIN. 


[PAoto. 


another  couple  of  shots,  when  it  swayed  violently 
from  side  to  side,  its  head  sank,  and  it  fell  over 
dead.  After  taking  some  photos  of  the  animal, 
one  with  my  Masai  tracker  standing  by  its  side, 
I  took  a  series  of  measurements  as  a  guide  to 


requires  constant  supervision  to  prevent  the 
men  shirking  their  work,  for,  if  not  .done 
properly,  the  skin,  from  its  great  thickness, 
becomes  tainted  and  the  hair  slips  off.  The 
thinning  completed,   the   skin    was  hoisted  on 


n8 


THE    WIDE     WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


to  a  platform  ready-built  for  it,  with  the  neck 
supported  on  a  high  pole,  so  that  the  air  could 
play  on  every  part  of  the  hide.  Day  and  night 
men  were  told  off  to  watch  it,  and  on  the  first 
sign  of  rain  every  man  in  camp  was  turned  out 
to  wrap  it  in  great  waterproof  sheets — no  easy 
job  on  a  dark,  blustering  night,  as  I  know  from 
turning  out  many  a  time  to  hurry  the  men  up. 
Every  morning  it  had  to  be  taken  down,  folded, 
and  replaced,  for,  if  allowed  to  get  thoroughly 
dry  without  this  precaution,  it  would  have  been 
almost  impossible 
to  fold,  and  would 
have  cracked  like 
cardboard,  even 
had  we  succeeded 
in  this  difficult 
task. 

Three  days 
later  I  found  a 
herd  of  six  in  a 
small  valley,  led 
by  a  fine  black 
bull;  a  long 
crawl  over  knee- 
punishing  ground 
brought  me  almost 
within  shot,  when 
they  suddenly 
bunched  together 
and  bolted.  A 
more  comical 
sight  than  a  giraffe 
galloping  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  imagine; 
their  long  necks 
sway  up  and 
down,  their  un- 
couth bodies  roll  from  side  to  side  like  a  ship 
in  a  heavy  sea,  while  their  tails  are  continually 
being  screwed  up  into  a  knot  first  on  one  flank 
and  then  on  the  other,  and  yet  they  get  over 
the  ground  at  a  surprising  pace.  A  good  horse 
pushed  to  his  utmost  speed  from  the  start  can 
manage  to  catch  them  up,  but  not  so  my  mule, 
so  that  after  following  a  long  way  I  had  to  leave 
them  and  return  to  camp. 

Two  days  later  I  espied,  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  plain  to  the  one  which  we  were  searching, 
a  large  herd,  some  lying  down,  others  feeding  in 
a  thin  strip  of  thorn  bush,  some  distance  from 
any  other  cover.  We  made  a  long  detour,  only 
to  find  the  giraffe  very  scattered,  while  some 
herds  of  antelope  grazing  on  one  side  of  them 
made  any  near  approach  impossible.  For  a 
time  I  lay  watching  them,  and  in  particular  one 
big  bull,  who  stood  sentry  for  nearly  an  hour  ; 
at  last  he  moved,  and,  the  antelope  having  mean- 
while drawn  off,  I  commenced  a  difficult  stalk. 


From  a] 


HOISTING   THE    SKIN    ON    A    MAST   TO    DRY, 


By  means  of  the  glasses  I  decided  which  was 
the  master  of  the  herd,  a  much  more  arduous 
task  in  reality  than  one  would  think,  for  beasts 
were  continually  disappearing  and  coming  into 
sight  again,  so  that  it  was  puzzling  to  know  if 
one  had  seen  the  whole  herd  or  not.  I 
would  watch  till  every  head  was  buried  in 
a  bush,  and  then  crawl  a  few  yards  forward  ; 
but,  long  before  I  could  get  within  shot  of  the 
bull,  his  watchful  mates  had  spotted  me,  and  I 
could  see  long,    mast-like   necks   rise   on   every 

side  and  remain 
erect  and  motion- 
less, with  eyes 
fixed  in  my  direc- 
tion. Still  I  crept 
on  slowly,  till  the 
whole  herd  drew 
together,  when, 
starting  to  my 
feet,  I  ran  to- 
wards them  in  as 
crouching  a  posi- 
tion as  I  could 
maintain  without 
slackening  my 
pace.  Fortunately 
my  quarry  was 
bringing  up  the 
rear,  and  I  crip- 
pled him  by  a 
shot  in  the  stern. 
The  herd  at  once 
broke  into  a 
shuffling  trot,  but, 
as  they  got  into 
the  open,  stood 
waiting  for  their 
master,  who  was  moving  very  slowly.  I  was 
uncertain     how    badly     he    was    wounded,    so 


[Photo. 


fired 


other     shots     at     lonsr 


range 


several  wlw^.  ,>,ulJ  ,«,.  .^,.& 
before  he  fell,  when  his  faithful  band  made 
off  across  the  plain.  A  fine  sight  they  were 
as  they  galloped  past  me,  eighteen  in  all, 
including  two  other  rather  smaller  bulls, 
and  three  little  calves  that  had  some  difficulty 
in  keeping  up  with  their  mothers.  It  was 
eleven  a.m.  when  I  obtained  the  shot,  and  my 
men  from  camp  did  not  arrive  till  three,  though 
a  large  band  of  Suk  turned  up  by  midday. 
They  were  a  striking-looking  body  of  men, 
naked  except  for  a  monkey-skin  cape  round 
their  shoulders  and  sandals  on  their  feet,  their 
weapons  long,  slender  spears,  the  older  men  with 
their  hair  in  bag-shaped  chignons  hanging  down 
their  backs,  while  the  younger  bucks  wore 
theirs  either  daubed  with  clay  into  a  sort  of 
pancake  on  the  top  of  the  head,  or  in  short, 
mop-like    curls.     Their   chief    strode    forward, 


IN    SEARCH    OF    THE    FIVE -HORNED    GIRAFFE. 


rig 


mode  of  salutation, 
for  some  meat,  to 
were    welcome,    but 


and,  having  spat  freely  on  his  palm,  grasped  me 
warmly  by  the  hand,  as  is  their  usual  unpleasant 

He  said  he  had  come 
which  I  answered  they 
as  at  the  same  time  I 
firmly  declined  their  assistance  in  getting  the 
skin  off,  they  decided  there  was  nothing  to  be 
done  but  go  to  sleep  in  the  scanty  shade  of  the 
thorn  trees  till  such  time  as  the  carcass  should 
be  ready  for  them  to  fall  on.  A  glance  showed 
what  a  far  handsomer-looking  beast  the  bull  was 
than  the  cow.  It  stood  over  sixteen  feet  in 
height,  and  the  large,  even-edged  blotches  were 


anxiety,  but  eventually  the  skin  dried  in  much 
better  condition  than  I  had  ventured  to  hope. 
The  giraffe  soon  after  this  retired  again  to  the 
Reserve,  and  I  made  my  way  back  to  Baringo 
Station,  adding  some  fine  specimens  of  other 
game  to  my  bag  on  the  way.  The  giraffe- 
skins  were  rolled  in  waterproof  sheets  and  slung 
from  a  pole,  which  two  men  carried,  being 
relieved  by  others  at  intervals.  The  skulls  took 
another  man  each  to  carry. 

I  now  decided  to  try  on  the  Gwashengeshu 
plateau,  where  Sir  Harry  Johnston  shot  his 
specimens.     Mr.   Hyde   Baker  was  proceeding 


From  a] 


MAGNIFICENT    BULL   GIRAFFE — HE   STOOD   OVER    SIXTEEN    FEET   IN    HEIGHT. 


[Photo. 


a  deep  chocolate  colour,  shading  to  almost 
black  in  the  centre.  Hard  work  I  had,  making 
the  cuts  in  the  hide  myself — for,  if  that  of  the 
cow  had  been  thick,  this  was  trebly  so — and 
then  directing  my  men  ;  but  so  well  did  we  stick 
to  our  task  that  the  skin  was  off  just  as  more  of 
my  men  arrived.  After  we  had  taken  what  meat 
we  required  I  handed  over  the  body  to  the  Suk, 
and  a  curious  sight  it  was  to  see  them  cut  it  up 
with  their  spears,  the  long  hafts  swinging  about 
in  all  directions  and  making  it  dangerous  to 
approach  too  close.  It  was  dark  before  the 
heavy  skin,  slung  on  a  pole  and  carried  by 
relays  of  six  men  at  a  time,  reached  camp. 

For  five  hours  next  morning  I  had  as  many 
men  as  could  find  room  on  or  round  the  skin 
hard  at  work  thinning  it  down,  while  others  kept 
sharpening  the  knives  and  fetching  water  for  the 
workers.  At  last  it  was  done  to  my  satisfaction, 
and  the  difficult  job  of  hoisting  the  heavy  mass 
on  to  the  pole  and  platform  was  completed  half 
an  hour  later,  when  we  all  took  a  much-needed 
rest.  For  several  nights  in  succession  we  had 
heavy  rain,  which  gave  me  great  trouble  and 


home  on  leave,  so  we  marched  together  through 
some  lovely  wooded  scenery  to  the  Ravine 
Station,  which  lies  on  the  edge  of  the  Mau 
Forest  at  seven  thousand  two  hundred  feet  ele- 
vation. Here  I  spent  a  pleasant  ten  days  with 
the  Collector,  Mr.  Isaac,  while  my  men  carried 
the  trophies  down  to  the  rail.  On  their  return 
I  set  out  with  a  couple  of  Masai  guides  for 
the  great  plains,  which  only  forty  years  ago 
teemed  with  immense  flocks  and  herds  belong- 
ing to  that  warlike  tribe,  but  which  now, 
alas  !  through  the  havoc  wrought  by  tribal 
warfare  and  the  cattle  plague,  are  wholly 
deserted.  After  leaving  the  western  confines 
of  the  forest,  we  found  ourselves  in  the  midst 
of  vast  rolling  hills,  covered  with  long,  coarse 
grass,  and  it  was  not  till  we  drew  near  Mount 
Sirgoi  that  the  scenery  changed.  Here  herds 
of  different  kinds  of  animals  grazed,  as  far  as 
the  eye  could  reach,  upon  the  prairie-like  land, 
so  that  it  required  but  little  imagination  to 
fancy  oneself  in  some  huge,  unfenced  Zoo. 
From  here,  after  a  few  days  spent  by  a  lovely 
little  salt  lake  sunk   in  a  curious   dip   of  the 


120 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


plain,  we  struck  out  towards  the  north-west, 
where  mimosa  thorn  made  a  dim  line  on  the 
horizon. 

On  the  way  to  our  new  camp  we  saw  a  herd 
of  eleven  giraffe,  but,  as  I  was  not  ready  to  deal 
with  a  skin  that  day,  left  them  in  peace.  Lions 
roared  several  times  in  the  evening,  the  men 
keeping  up  quite  a  little  circle  of  fires  to  guard 
themselves  and  our  goats  from  possible  attack. 
Next  day  we  made  a  seven-hour  circuit  of  the 
country  round  without  finding  any  giraffe, 
although  a  little  party  of  Dorobo  said  they 
had  seen  a  herd  of  forty  only  yesterday.  These 
people  were  busily  employed  digging  up  a  sort 
of  bulb  for  food  and  devouring  them  raw.  An 
old  fellow  with  one  eye  and  a  younger  man  were 
both  mere  skin  and  bone,  but  the  third  member 
of  the  party,  a  little  boy,  was  in  much  better 
condition,  and  to  him  they  handed  nearly  the 
whole  of  what  meat  we  gave  them.  After  some 
hours'  work  next  morning  I  struck  a  fresh  track  of 
two  bull  giraffe,  which  I  followed  ;  but  the  beasts 
were   very   suspicious,    and  kept  on  the  move 


from  a] 


AMPS    IN    THK    BARINGO    KliCilON. 


through  a  rather  thick  piece  of  thorn  scrub.  At 
last  I  got  close  enough  to  one,  and,  as  there 
appeared  to  be  nothing  to  choose  between  them, 
fired  two  shots  at  it  in  quick  succession.  It  at 
once  slackened  its  pace  and  enabled  me  to  get 
alongside  and  drop  it  with  a  third  bullet.  I 
had  left  my  men  far  behind,  and  they  at  first 
missed  me  in  some  way,  so  that  it  was  not  till 
eleven  that  we  got  to  work.  However,  by 
three-thirty,  when  the  men  from  camp  arrived, 
we  had  done  all  the  skinning  possible  without 
turning    the  carcass   over,  which   my  two   gun- 


bearers  and  myself  had  found  beyond  our 
powers.  I  reached  camp  after  dark  in  pour- 
ing rain ;  signal  shots  and  a  lantern  on  the 
giraffe-skin  mast  brought  in  a  few  of  the  men, 
but  the  main  body  with  the  skin  did  not  arrive 
till  next  morning,  after  an  uncomfortable  night 
in  the  wet,  with  lions  prowling  about.  There 
were  still  three  men  missing,  for  whom  two 
search  parties  were  at  once  sent  out,  as  I  feared 
they  might  have  been  killed  by  the  lions.  Every- 
one was  dog-tired,  and  it  was  not  till  late  in  the 
afternoon  that  1  got  the  skin  thinned  and 
hoisted  on  to  the  platform.  A  stroll  round 
before  sundown  brought  me  close  to  three 
giraffe — one  a  fine  bull — within  a  mile  of  camp. 
Soon  after  we  came  on  some  ostrich,  and  a 
lucky  shot  dropped  one  of  these  extremely  wary 
birds.  As  it  sat  on  the  ground  disabled  it  kept 
swinging  its  long  neck  about,  making  vicious 
dabs  with  its  beak  at  anyone  getting  within 
reach  ;  but  my  Masai  guide  ran  in  fearlessly 
and,  seizing  it  by  the  neck,  held  it  down  and 
cut  its  throat.     On   my  return  to  camp  I  found 

the  second  search 
party  back — the  first 
had  returned  with  two 
of  the  men  earlier  in 
the  day  — rhaving  dis- 
covered a  porter  half 
dead  with  cold  and 
fright,  perched  in  a 
little  tree ;  there  he 
had  spent  the  night,  a 
couple  of  lions  having 
killed  and  made  a 
meal  off  an  antelope 
close  by  him. 

A  few  days  later  I 
found  a  little  party  of 
three  old  bull  giraffe, 
the  tallest  of  which 
looked  by  far  the 
largest  animal  I  had 
yet  seen.  They  were 
in  very  open  ground, 
and  before  I  could 
get  within  reasonable 
distance  to  shoot  had  discovered  me,  so  that  I 
had  to  fire  at  long  range.  However,  my  first 
shot  luckily  crippled  it,  and,  after  an  unwonted 
expenditure  of  ammunition,  it  fell  dead.  It 
proved  to  be  seventeen  feet  three  inches  in 
height,  and  a  splendid  specimen,  which  Mr. 
Rowland  Ward  has  succeeded  in  mounting, 
with  what  excellent  result  anyone  \isiting  the 
Natural  History  Museum  in  Cromwell  Road 
may  judge.  This  skin  gave  us  more  trouble 
than  any  of  the  others ;  its  great  weight  and 
the  length  of  the   neck   made  it  most  difficult 


{Photo. 


IN    SEARCH    OF    THE    FIVE  -  HORNED    GIRAFFE. 


121 


to  hoist  on  to 
the  mast,  but  ai 
I  ist  we  accom- 
plished it,  and 
i he  two  huge 
skins  standing 
side  by  side 
served,  like  twin 
steeples,  as  a 
landmark  to  our 
camp.  Heavy 
showers  of  rain 
gave  us  the 
usual  trouble, 
but  at  last  the 
skins  were  dry 
and  folded  into 
immense  pack- 
ages. They 
proved  the  most 
awkward  burdens 
possible  to  get 
safely  over  the 
swollen  rivers  we 
had  to  cross  on 
our  way  to 
Mumias  Govern- 
ment Station.  It 
took  some  fifteen 
men  to  each, 
some  carrying  the 
pole  they  were 
slung    on,   others 


DRYING   GIRAFFE   SKINj — "THE   TWO    HUGE   SKINS,    LIKE   TWIN    STEEPLES,  SERVED 

From  a]  as  a  landmark  to  our  camp."  [Pkoto. 


that  I  at  last 
heard  of  th«  ir 
arrival  at  Mom- 
basa. They  even- 
tually reached 
England  in  good 
order,  and  I  had 
the  satisfaction  of 
feeling  that  one 
of  the  great  ob- 
jects of  my  expe- 
dition had  been 
achieved,  and  that 
by  furnishing  the 
South  Kensing- 
ton Museum 
with  a  complete 
pair  of  five- 
horned  giraffe  I 
had  done  some- 
thing to  put  the 
national  collec- 
tion on  a  level 
with  those  of 
Continental 
museums. 

As  a  result  of 
the  four  months 
I  devoted  to  the 
search  after 
these  giraffe  Mr. 
Lydekkor  has 
been     able     to 


schillitigsi,     a 
variety  described 


steadying  the  package,  while  yet  others  had  decide  that  the  Gwashengeshu  specimens  are 
to  help  the  bearers  to  keep  their  feet  on  a  new  sub-species,  which  he  has  named  G. 
the    slippery    stones.      At     Mumias    the    skins         camelopardalis  rothschildi,  and  not,  as  previously 

were  sewn   in  a  supposed,    the 

of  gunny -bags,  form,  or,  as  was 

and    dispatched  alternatively 

to  the   head   of  suggested,  G.  c. 

the     Uganda  HP   V. 
Railway      at 

Kisumu.  In  *$P  ->  .  by  the  German 
spite  of  the  rail-  W^E^**'^  "j^k  naturalists, 
way  authorities  jgr  /  ">  f  ?/*'.& '■'* ^?9Mh  I H  which  was  first 
charging  more  '-Jfefr'-V^lTT^^'i'i*- *|  found  in  the  Kili- 
for  their  carriage  ^  ♦  "VA^Ho,''  manjaro  district, 
than  they  would  ^B#  *m*-  "*nll^  flffi"  The  collection 
for  a  passenger's  s.*^i50fJP0  '  f"  has  also  provvd 
excess  baggage,  Myt^j^  JS  / '  &*■  -*s*>!w  that  the  animals 
they  were  de-  ^^,#T  from  Baringo 
layed  for  many  i^--''  ancl  die  ('.wash- 
days on  the  tefe."  engeshu  are  the 
journey  to  the  K|i|  same  variety, 
coast,  so  that  it  lay  ,  although  these 
was     with    con-  are  separated  by 

ings     of     relief        Froma\       a  bull  giraffe's  heai  he  five  "  horns."                       able  for  giraffe. 

Vol.  xiv. — 16. 


Cast  Away  Among  the  Filipinos. 

By  George  Leitch. 

II. 

A   moving    story   of    shipwreck    and    captivity.      The   author   and   his    companions   were    shipwrecked 

in    the    Philippine    Islands,    and    fell    into   the    hands   of    the    insurgents,    who    treated    them    with    the 

utmost    cruelty.       In    this    instalment    Mr.    Leitch    describes    some    of  the   incidents    of  his   captivity, 

the  events  leading  up  to  his  escape,  and  his  final  return  to  civilization. 


ATE  that  same  night  we  reached  a 
town  called  Botolan,  and  straight- 
way we  were  put  into  the  stocks 
again.  Our  place  of  confinement 
was  a  bamboo  hut,  filthy  beyond 
description.  Rats  abounded,  running  and 
gambolling  over  us  fearlessly.  Oh  !  the  misery 
of  that  terrible  night  !  Weary  unto  death,  we 
yet  could  not  sleep,  but  lay  there  suffering 
untold  agonies  of  mind  and  body. 

The  long  night  passed  at  last,  and  next  morn- 
ing we  were  led  out  to  execution.  The  people 
assembled  in  the  plaza,  or  public  square,  eager 
to  witness  the  last  scene  of  this  diabolical 
cruelty.  One  by  one  we  were  placed  in  position, 
when  suddenly  a  message  was  passed  to  the 
officer  in  charge  and,  after  a  hurried  consulta- 
tion, the  order  was  given  for  us  to  be  taken 
back  to  prison.  It  would  be  hard  to  say  whether 
we  would  not  have  preferred  death,  if  any  choice 
had  been  given  us. 

The  same  afternoon  we  were  again  taken  to 
the  plaza,  where  the  townspeople  loaded  us 
with  every  kind  of  indignity  and  fiendish  cruelty. 
The  wretched  Chinamen  were  singled  out  for 
special  attention.  Shaking  with  abject  terror, 
Ah  Fong  and  the  boy  were  ordered  to  kneel 
down.  They  were  kicked  and  cuffed  and 
buffeted  unmercifully.  Every  horrible  torture 
was  practised  on  them,  and  finally  these  Filipino 
brutes  began  to  hack  at  them  with  their  bolos. 
Every  man  in  the  crowd  seemed  anxious  to 
have  a  slash  at  the  unfortunate  Celestials. 
Finally  death  mercifully  put  an  end  to  their 
sufferings. 

As  for  ourselves,  we  waited  in  stupefied 
unconcern  for  a  similar  fate.  Presently  atten- 
tion was  diverted  from  the  butchered  Chinese, 
and  Pears  and  I  were  taken  apart  from  White, 
on  whose  face  was  a  look  of  mute  appeal, 
passionate,  piteous.  What  would  be  the  next 
act? 

It  soon  became  evident,  however,  that  the 
mercy  of  death  was  to  be  denied  us — for  the 
present,  at  least.     Pears  and  \  were  placed  in 


charge  of  an  escort  of  armed  men,  and  a  little 
later  we  left  the  town.  I  shall  never  forget  the 
look  of  terror  with  which  the  poor,  lone  White 
waved  us  a  last,  sad  farewell. 

We  were  taken  to  a  town  called  Cabangan, 
about  four  Spanish  leagues  from  Botolan,  and 
there  the  cruelties  of  our  former  treatment  were 
repeated.  Food  was  refused  us,  and  it  occurred 
to  us  that  probably  we  should  be  left  to  starve 
to  death.  But  an  old  Filipino  who  had  been  to 
sea,  and  whose  feelings  had  been  softened  by 
contact  with  the  outside  world,  intervened  on 
our  behalf  and  gave  us  each  a  plate  of  rice  and 
some  water.  We  spent  the  night  in  the  stocks, 
however,  and  next  morning  the  journey  was 
resumed.  As  we  were  quite  unable  to  walk 
farther  a  bullock-cart  was  requisitioned,  and  into 
it  we  were  thrown,  bound  hand  and  foot.  That 
afternoon  we  reached  San  Felipe.  The  heart  of 
the  Presidente  of  that  town  seemed  to  be 
touched  at  sight  of  our  terrible  plight,  for  he 
ordered  us  to  be  given  some  rice  and  water. 
Sleep  we  could  not,  for  the  people  came  flock- 
ing to  see  us  the  whole  night  long,  kicking  us 
and  saying,  "  Coza,  Americanos  ?  " 

Next  morning  we  were  taken  to  San  Narciso, 
and  the  following  day  to  San  Marcelino,  where 
we  again  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  stocks. 

For  the  new  ordeal  that  awaited  us  here  we 
were  scarcely  prepared.  When  day  broke  the 
officer  in  charge  came  to  our  hut  and  released 
me,  but  left  Pears  still  bound.  I  had  succeeded 
in  picking  up  a  few  words  of  the  language,  so  I 
asked  what  was  to  be  done  with  my  companion. 
The  answer  was  evasive.  The  Filipino  merely 
informed  me  that  I  was  to  be  sent  to  Castil- 
lejos,  while  Pears  would  remain  where  he  was. 

Probably  that  parting  constituted  the  saddest 
event  of  all  this  terrible  experience.  A  great 
wave  of  grief  overwhelmed  us  both,  and  despair 
unspeakable  filled  our  hearts.  We  could  only 
gize  wistfully  into  each  other's  eyes  and  bid 
farewell,  with  no  hope  whatever  that  we  should 
ever  meet  again. 

At  Castillejos  I  was  imprisoned  underneath 


CAST    AWAY    AMONG    THE    FILIPINOS. 


123 


the  Governor's  house.  It  was  idle  now  to  talk 
of  filth,  idle  also  to  talk  of  ignominy  and 
cruelties.  These  were  the  rule ;  anything  else 
was  the  exception. 

In  this  squalid  and  miserable  place  I  was 
treated  shockingly, 
and  received  so 
little  food  —  for 
days  together  I 
had  to  go  entirely 
without  —  that  fre- 
quently I  took  to 
gnawing  the  bark 
and  roots  of  trees 
and  shrubs.  But 
there  seemed  always 
to  be  a  wise  Provi- 
dence watching 
over  my  destiny, 
and  hope  flickered 
constantly  through 
the  blackness  of 
my  despair.  In  the 
town  there  lived 
three  Spaniards, 
who  were  held  in 
partial  captivity — 
that  is  to  say,  they 
were  allowed  to 
go  about  as  they 
pleased,  but  were 
forbidden  to  go 
outside  the  urban 
boundaries,  lest 
they  should  be 
tempted  to  com- 
municate important 
information  to  the 
enemy.  These 
Spaniards  were  ex- 
tremely   well-to-do, 

or  had  been.  They  were  Francisco  Moreno,  who 
had  been  a  flourishing  civil  engineer  prior  to  the 
insurrection ;  Don  Gonzales,  once  a  consider- 
able landowner  in  a  town  called  Infanta,  in  the 
same  province  as  Castillejos,  but  whose  land, 
needless  to  say,  was  "  appropriated  "  when  the 
insurrection  broke  out  ;  and  Emilio  Lopez,  a 
schoolmaster.  These  men  showed  me  the 
greatest  kindness,  and  on  many  occasions  risked 
their  lives  to  bring  me  food.  The  kind-hearted 
Moreno  especially  would  come  and  speak  to 
me  and  cheer  me  up.  At  other  times  he  sent  a 
faithful  old  Filipino  woman  with  food  for  me. 

To  my  captivity  was  now  added  labour,  and 
very  frequently  I  was  sent  out  under  a  guard  to 
repair  the  roads  or  to  clear  up  the  grounds 
around  some  of  the  principal  houses.  Often 
when    I    had   finished   a    hard   day's    work    I 


THE    FILIPINO    MERELY    INFORMED 
CASTILL 


would  beg  a  little  food,  only  to  be  met  with  a 
harsh  refusal  or  a  volley  of  oaths,  or  both. 

When   1   did  come  into    possession  of   some 
food   in   this   way  I   had   to  cook  it  myself. 
the    methods    I     was  obliged    to    employ   \ 

not  merely  novel 
they  were  exacting 
and  difficult. 
Matches  were  the 
greatest  rarity,  so  I 
resorted  to  the 
primitive  method 
of  obtaining  fire. 
I  slit  a  dry  bamboo 
cane  in  two  and 
cut  a  small  groove 
in  one  piece,  into 
which  I  inserted 
the  other.  Vigor- 
ous rubbing  did 
the  rest. 

When  I  had  been 
about  six  weeks  in 
Castillejos  the  good 
Moreno  succeeded 
in  conveying  to  me 
the  information  that 
the  British  war-ship 
Narcissus  was  an- 
chored in  the  Bay 
of  Subig,  about 
three  Spanish 
leagues  distant.  I 
surmised  that  this 
ship  had  probably 
been  sent  out  tG 
search  for  the 
Water  Witch.  At 
night  I  could  see 
the  vessel's  search- 
light shining  over 
the  mountains,  but  there  was  little  chance  of 
escape  for  me  ;  I  was  too  closely  watched. 

The  Filipinos  somehow  divined  that  I  knew 
of  the  near  presence  of  the  ship,  for  they 
hastened  to  assure  me  that  it  was  only  a 
Japanese  cargo-boat.  The  following  day  I 
learned  that  the  Narcissus  had  left  the  bay. 

About  the  middle  of  December,  as  it  seemed 
to  me,  I  could  discern  signs  of  unwonted 
activity  in  the  town.  Couriers  rushed  hither  and 
thither  on  horseback,  and  I  concluded  that 
American  troops  were  close  at  hand.  Hope 
revived  within  me,  but  the  following  night  the 
brave  garrison  of  Castillejos  abandoned  the 
town  in  terror  and  fled  to  the  mountains, 
dragging  me  with  them. 

The  American  soldiers  were  scouring  the 
whole  country,  but  immediately  they  came  at  all 


ME    THAI'    I    WAS   TO  BE   SENT    TO 
EJOS." 


. 


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heart.     He  had  indeed  v'; 

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alor 1 

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arrived    in  and,   n 

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to    the  insurgents''    position.      I    was    only 


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126 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


what  was  happening  they  had  fallen  victims  to 
the  deadly  shower  of  bullets  that  was  rained 
'nto  their  midst.  There  was  no  semblance  of 
resistance ;  those  of  them  who  could  find  their 
feet  scrambled  off  in  wildest  consternation, 
leaving  their  dead  and  dying  behind  them.  It 
was  all  over  in  less  than  fifteen  minutes. 

There  was  nothing  left  for  us  to  do,  so  we 
speedily  quitted  the  scene  of  our  signal  triumph 
and  retraced  our  steps  down  the  mountain  side. 

That  evening  we  halted  at  Castillejos,  where 
I  had  been  imprisoned.  Many  of  the  inhabit- 
ants recognised  me,  and  their  eyes  kindled  with 
terrible  hate  and  evil  intent.  But  I  knew  only 
too  well  their  sneaking  treachery,  and  I  took 
very  good  care  that 
they  should  not  find 
me  defenceless.  We 
reached  Subig  on 
the  second  day. 

A  few  days  later  we 
made  another  and, 
as  it  proved,  a  more 
hazardous  expedition 
into  the  mountains. 
We  penetrated  into 
these  unknown  fast- 
nesses for  seven  or 
eight  miles.  Sud- 
denly the  lieutenant, 
who  was  proceeding 
some  distance  in 
advance,  observed 
the  muzzle  of  a  rifle 
projecting  from  be- 
hind a  tree.  The 
next  moment  a  shot 
rang  out,  and  imme- 
diately the  firing  be- 
came general.  Then, 
to  our  horror  and 
dismay,  we  found 
that  we  had  been 
cleverly  ambushed. 

Instant  action  was 
necessary,  and  in 
face  of  the  deadly 
fire  of  an  unseen 
enemy      retreat 

seemed  to  be  our  sole  hope  of  escape,  so,  taking 
advantage  of  every  little  bit  of  cover  available, 
we  hastily  retired. 

Finally,  reaching  the  top  of  a  high  ridge  we 
determined  to  make  a  stand,  hopeful  that  rein- 
forcements would  be  sent  to  our  aid.  We 
defended  our  position  for  more  than  two  hours, 
and  at  last  a  party  of  troops,  sent  out  in  hot 
haste  from  Subig  when  the  sound  of  firing  was 
heard,    came    up  with    us,    and    the    attacking 


THE    NEXT    MOMENT    A    SHOT    RANG    OU  I 


Filipinos  then  broke  and  fled.  We  tenderly 
picked  up  our  dead  and  wounded  and  returned 
to  camp. 

We  captured  two  of  the  enemy,  and  elicited 
the  information  that  the  insurgent  force  in  the 
mountains  was  seven  hundred  strong,  fully  armed 
and  well  equipped.  They  also  stated  that 
Generals  Hizon  and  Miscardo  had  planned  an 
attack  upon  our  little  garrison  at  Subig. 

Now,  our  defences  were  notoriously  defective 
and  the  possibilities  of  defeat  were  very  great. 
Captain  Hayson  at  once  gave  orders,  therefore, 
to  have  the  outposts  strengthened  and  trenches 
dug  all  around  our  position.  A  little  corrugated 
iron  building  was  chosen  as  the   citadel  of  our 

defence,  and  here  our 
sick  and  wounded 
were  placed. 

But  undoubtedly 
we  were  in  a  tight 
corner.  Our  force 
was  a  mere  handful, 
and  a  determined 
rush  by  a  large  body 
of  wild  Filipinos 
would  certainly  over- 
whelm us.  We  be- 
thought ourselves, 
therefore,  of  the 
American  garrison 
at  Olongapa,  about 
nine  miles  distant 
across  the  bay. 
About  two  hundred 
Marines  held  this 
town,  and  the  U.S. 
gunboat  Mindora, 
commanded  by 
Ensign  McCarthy, 
patrolled  the  bay. 
Captain  Hayson  de- 
cided to  send  an 
appeal  for  help  ;  but 
who  would  bear  the 
message,  and  how  ? 
At  length  he  deemed 
it  best  to  undertake 
the  journey  himself, 
and  as  I  was  the  only 
siilor  among  the  lot  I  volunteered  to  accom- 
pany him.  Without  delay  we  set  out  on  our 
journey.  Borne  along  by  a  brisk  breeze  we 
reached  the  Mindora  in  two  hours.  Darkness 
had  already  fallen  as  we  approached.  The  gun- 
boat promptly  challenged  us,  but  we  speedily 
proved  our  bona  fides  and  came  alongside.  Our 
message  was  soon  delivered  and  help  was  readily 
conceded. 

Without  a  moment's  delay  we  started  on  the 


CAST    AWAY    AMONG    THE    FILIPINOS. 


127 


return  journey,  and  all  went  well  until  we  were 
within  half  a  mile  of  Subig,  when  suddenly  a 
banco  (native  boat),  manned  by  eight  Filipinos, 
bore  down  upon  us.  They  opened  fire  at  close 
range,  but  in  the  intense  darkness  their  aim  was 
most  uncertain.  Captain  Hayson  replied  vigor- 
ously with  several  shots,  while  I  eased  the  sail, 
and    we    tore    away    from    our    assailants    and 


into  the  ranks  of  the  invaders.  They  fought 
bravely,  they  shouted,  they  cursed,  they  adjured 
their  gods  to  help  them,  pressing  forward  with 
terrible  fury,  and  every  minute  we  feared  that 
the  conflict  would  become  hand  to  hand. 
From  the  mere  point  of  view  of  numbers  we 
were  fighting  against  tremendous  odds,  and  only 
some  active  outside  assistance  would  save  us. 


CAPTAIN    HAVSON    REPLIED    VIGOROL'SLV    Wi  1  H    SEVERAL    SHUTS. 


arrived  safely  in  port.  Our  comrades  on  shore 
had  heard  the  firing  and  feared  the  worst.  They 
were  overjoyed  at  our  safe  arrival  and  the 
success  of  our  mission. 

Just  as  the  captain  and  I  were  seeking  a 
well-earned  repast  sounds  of  firing  were  heard 
in  the  direction  of  our  outposts,  and  the  alarm 
was  raised.  Already,  however,  the  sentries  had 
been  driven  in,  and  the  insurgents  in  strong 
force  were  advancing  rapidly  to  the  main  attack. 

"  To  the  trenches  everybody  !  "  rang  out  the 
order,  and  to  the  trenches  we  hastened. 

How  the  minutes  dragged  !  At  last,  through 
the  thick  darkness,  we  perceived  the  enemy, 
and  the  next  instant  the  fight  became  general. 
For  two  hours  or  more  we  poured  a  steady  fire 


But  assistance  was  at  hand.  Presently  a 
well-directed  shell  from  the  Mindora,  which  had 
entered  the  bay  unperceived,  gave  the  enemy 
pause.  They  hesitated,  wavered,  and  finally 
turned  and  fled  in  the  wildest  disorder,  leaving 
their  slain  and  wounded  on  the  field.  Two  of 
our  men  only  were  wounded. 

I  remained  with  the  little  garrison  at  Subig 
until  the  5th  of  January,  1900.  when  I  was 
given  the  opportunity  to  proceed  to  Manila  on 
board  the  transport  Taleena.  I  landed  in  the 
Philippine  capital  barefooted,  for  my  feet  were 
so  swollen  with  much  tramping  that  I  found  it 
quite  impossible  to  wear  boots.  Moreover,  I  was 
dressed    in    the    old    uniform    of   an   insurgent 


128 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


officer,  and  wore  a  Spanish  bamboo  hat.  In 
this  strange  attire,  and  tanned  a  deep  brown,  I 
did  not  look  the  least  like  a  true-born  Britisher. 

I  inquired  my  way  to  the  British  Consulate. 
I  told  the  Consul  my  story,  but  he  informed  me 
he  did  not  believe  a  word  I  had  said,,  and 
though  I  was  in  very  sore  straits  he  absolutely 
refused  to  do  anything  for  me.  His  treatment 
was  quite  on  a  par  with  his  former  conduct 
when  he  informed  the  Filipinos  after  our 
capture  that  the  Water  Witch  sailed  under  the 
American  flag  and  was  manned  by  Americans. 
The  story  I  have  related  reveals  what  hardships 
and  cruelties  followed  upon  this  pronouncement. 
Unfortunately  I  cannot  recall  the  name  of  this 
official,  else  I  would  willingly  give  it.  If  he 
doubted  my  story,  as  he  had  a  perfect  right  to 
do,  slight  inquiry  would  readily  have  proved  the 
truth.  The  American  officers  with  whom  I  had 
served  would  very  gladly  have  furnished  him 
with  the  facts. 

I  contemptuously  shook  the  dust  of  the 
Consulate  off  my  feet — my  bare  feet— and  pro- 
ceeded to  the  head-quarters  of  Major  Devol,  the 
then  chief  Quartermaster  of  the  United  States 
Army  in  the  Philippines.  His  attitude  towards 
me  was  very  agreeably  the  reverse  of  that  of  the 
British  Consul.  He  received  me  with  great 
kindness,  promised  me  employment  as  a 
teamster,  and  handed  me  a  note  of  introduction 
to  the  corral-master. 

I  remained  as  a  teamster  for  about  a  month, 
when  I  was  promoted  to  a  superior  appointment 
up-country.  I  was  put  in  charge  of  a  post- 
exchange,  or  regimental  store  — ■  somewhat 
resembling  the  canteen  in  the  British  Army, 
except  that  it  is  run  by  a  civilian,  who  pays  a 
percentage  of  the  profits  only  into  the  regimental 
funds.  This  new  appointment  was  in  the  town 
of  Dagupan,  at  the  terminus  of  a  railway  from 
Manila. 

After  a  stay  of  about  five  months  in  this 
Dagupan  retreat  I  left  the  exchange  and  went 
into  the  mountains  in  the  province  of  Benquet, 
and  thence  to  Rosales,  where  I  renewed  my 
acquaintance  with  mules. 

Thereafter  I  followed  a  variety  of  occupations 
until  in  February,  1902,  I  was  seized  with  a  bad 
attack  of  malarial  fever,  and  was  obliged  to  enter 
the  hospital,  where  I  lay  prostrate  for  several 
days ;  indeed,  the  doctor  who  examined  me 
shook  his  head  sadly,  saying  he  did  not  think  I 
would  last  another  month,  but  I  merely  laughed 
at  him  and  told  him  that  doctors  had  said  so 
before. 

One  afternoon  I  went  out  of  the  hospital  for  a 
walk  and  did  not  return.  I  wandered  about  the 
town  for  some  weeks,  finding  shelter  in  a 
Sailors'  Home. 


Here  I  learned  that  an  American  sailing-ship, 
named  the  Luzon  and  bound  for  New  South 
Wales,  required  ten  seamen,  and  I  resolved  to 
get  on  board  somehow.  Fortune  favoured  me, 
for  the  ship  was  ordered  to  put  to  sea  at  once, 
and  in  his  hurry  to  secure  a  crew  the  captain 
was  not  over  particular,  and  I  was  one  of  the 
ten  chosen.  Next  morning  we  weighed  anchor 
and  left  Manila. 

Our  ship  put  in  at  Newcastle,  and  there  I 
reshipped  on  a  four-masted  barque  called  the 
Drumblair,  bound  for  Valparaiso.  Thence  I 
sailed  in  a  French  brig  to  Iquique,  thence  on 
the  four-masted  barque  Springburn,  of  Greenock, 
bound  for  Brake,  near  Bremen,  in  Germany. 
Four  months  later  we  reached  our  destination, 
and  I  at  once  proceeded  to  London,  en  route 
to  the  Orkney  Islands — home !  I  had  been 
absent  for  a  period  of  fifteen  years. 

The  reader  will  be  interested  to  learn  what 
became  of  my  shipmates,  who  were  torn  from 
me  so  mysteriously  and  tragically.  I  felt 
intensely  anxious,  and  lost  no  time  in  inquir- 
ing respecting  them. 

I  have  already  related  how  Pears  suddenly 
confronted  me  in  the  camp  at  Subig.  A  body 
of  American  troops  had  found  him,  and  had 
brought  him  in  more  dead  than  alive.  He  had 
been  shockingly  treated.  He  speedily  re- 
covered, however,  and  in  a  short  time  was  able 
to  proceed  to  Manila.  He  wished  me  to 
accompany  him,  but  as  there  were  immediate 
prospects  of  a  fight  I  elected  to  stay  and  have  a 
fling  at  my  one-time  tormentors.  We  then 
parted,  and  I  have  never  come  across  him  since. 

Just  before  leaving  Subig  I  learned  that 
Captain  Croker  had  been  kept  in  prison  at 
Masingloc.  The  Presidente  of  the  place  was  a 
cold-blooded  brute  named  Julian  Estrella,  who 
decided  to  execute  four  prisoners  on  Christmas 
morning.  At  daylight  the  wretched  men  were 
brought  before  him.  In  cruel  ribaldry  he 
assailed  them  with  vile  taunts,  concluding  his 
oration  by  ordering  them  to  be  taken  to  a  little 
barrio  about  midway  between  Masingloc  and 
Palawig  and  there  murdered. 

They  were  hurried  off  to  the  place  of 
execution.  Captain  Croker  was  attacked  first, 
his  assailants  striking  him  with  their  bolos.  In 
desperation  he  pluckily  retaliated  with  his  fists, 
and  in  the  fierce  and  unequal  combat  he 
succeeded  for  a  time  in  warding  them  off,  till  at 
last  two  cowardly  ruffians  crept  up  behind  him 
and  stabbed  him  to  the  heart.  While  Croker 
was  thus  pluckily  fighting  for  his  life  the  others 
attempted  to  escape,  but  only  one — a  Spaniard 
named  Angel  Gonzalz,  whom  I  had  met — 
managed  to  get   clear   away.     He  got  a  good 


CAST    AWAY    AMONG    THE    FILIPINOS. 


i  -'> 


start  and,  completely  baffling  his  pursuers, 
reached  Subig  four  days  later. 

And  now  — what  of  John  Roberts  and  Alfred 
Usher,  the  two  seamen  who  disappeared  so 
suddenly  from  the  wreck  ? 

Picking  up  a  newspaper  one  day  about  a 
month  after  my  re- 
turn to  Manila,  I 
was  surprised  and 
delighted  to  learn 
of  their  safe  arrival 
in  the  town  the  day 
previously.  They 
had  passed  through 
terrible  hardships, 
very  similar  indeed 
to  my  own. 

In  their  despe- 
rate peril  they  had 
patched  the  dinghy, 
and  into  it  they  col- 
lected such  things 
as  they  could  rescue 
from  the  tide,  which 
swept  furiously 
along.  In  this  way 
thev  saved  some 
clothing  and  twelve 
cases  of  Bovril. 
The  scanty  stock 
of  water  in  the 
"breaker"  was 
speedily  exhausted, 
and  thereafter  the 
poor  fellows  were 
face  to  face  with 
utter  want. 

For  twenty  -  one 
days    they    drifted 

along  in  this  wretched  condition,  exposed  to  the 
scorching  heat  of  the  sun  and  oftentimes  also 
to  the  fury  of  wind  and  wave. 

Then  one  morning  the  fisher-folk  of  Loco,  a 
little  town  on  the  Island  of  Lubang,  found  the 
dinghy  lying  high  and  dry  upon  the  beach. 
Tenderly  they  carried  the  almost  lifeless  seamen 
to  a  house,  where  they  administered  a  mixture 
of  wine  and  water.  Gradually  consciousness 
revived,  and  the  two  sailors  were  very  kindly 
entertained,  Sehor  Calixto  Livoro,  the  Presidente 
of  the  place,  giving  them  personal  attention. 

Both  men  made  a  speedy  recovery.  On 
October  7th  they  left  the  place  on  board  a 
trading  boat  manned  by  four  natives  and  bound 
for  Manila. 

Misfortune   dogged    their   way.     When    they 

proposed  to  put  into  Santa  Cruz  the  following 

night  they  were  pounced  upon  by  a  detachment 

of  armed  Filipinos,  who  carried  them  as  a  prize 
Vol.  xiv.  -17. 


HE    PI.UCKILY    RETALIATED    WITH    HIS    FISTS. 


to  San  Francisco  de  Malabon,  where  they  were 
brought  before  a  Tagalo  colonel,  who,  after 
examining  them,  sent  them  forward  to  General 
Trias.  This  insurgent  leader  was  disposed  to 
believe  their  story  and  let  them  go.  For  some 
reason  or    other,    however,   he   did   not  release 

them,  but  referred 
them  instead  to  the 
authorities  at  In- 
dang. 

From  Indang 
they  were  hustled 
to  Lipa,  over  rough 
roads  and  through 
weary  jungles ;  from 
Lipa  to  Tayabas; 
from  Tayabas  to 
Manban  ;  thence  to 
Gumaca,  to  Lopez, 
to  Calaoag,  and 
finally  to  Guinayan- 
gam  —  apparently 
one  of  the  principal 
prison  camps,  for 
here  were  incarce- 
rated eighty  Span- 
ish officers,  five 
hundred  soldiers, 
fifteen  merchants, 
twenty  Friars,"  and 
eight  "Ameri- 
canos." 

One  day  Usher 
and  Paul  Wilkes,  a 
strapping  big  Irish- 
m  a  n  -  - b  u  t  an 
"  Americano  "  so- 
called —  made  a 
very  determined 
attempt  to  escape.  Securing  a  "dug-out"  that 
lay  in  the  bay,  they  paddled  away  for  dear  life, 
but  their  little  craft  capsized  and  they  were 
obliged  to  swim  ashore.  They  lived  in  the 
bush  for  three  days,  but  were  eventually  rounded 
up,  and,  though  they  made  a  gallant  stand  against 
their  captors,  were  overwhelmed  and  marched 
back  in  triumph  to  prison. 

Another  attempt,  however,  was  more  success- 
ful, and  early  one  morning  Roberts  and  Usher 
and  four  Spaniards  stole  away  from  the  place 
in  an  old  ship's  boat.  Once  out  in  the  open 
sea  they  sighted  several  ships,  and  at  last  were 
able  to  hail  the  schooner  Cecilia,  bound  for 
Manila.  The  fo  lowing  morning  they  reached 
the  Philippine  capital.  For  the  present  all  sense 
of  danger  was  past,  and  they  again  rejoiced  that 
they  were  free.  And  so  ended  the  bitter  trials 
of  the  little  band  who  were  "cast  away  among 
the  Filipinos." 


TOYtottet^ 


Rain=making  in    SaVage  Africa. 

By  the  Rev.   Henry  Cole,  C.M.S.,  of  Mpwapwa,  Dar-es-Salaam,  German  East  Africa. 

Being  a  description,  by  a  resident  missionary,  of  the  extraordinary  methods  used  by  the  witch-doctors 
of   Darkest    Africa    to    induce   rain  or  to    find    out    the    person    who    is    maliciously   keeping    it    away. 
The  author  illustrates  his  article  with   some  unique  photographs. 


AIN-MAKING  is,  I  believe,  a 
universal  practice  in  Africa,  and  it 
is  one  of  the  last  things  in  which 
a  native  convert  loses  his  faith.  I 
have  never  been  able  to  find  out 
the  real  origin  of  the  custom,  but  it  was 
probably  invented  by  the  medicine-men  as  a 
means  whereby  to  enrich  themselves. 

In  a  dry  and  thirsty  land  like  Africa,  where 
rivers  are  few  and  the  rainfall  in  most  parts  is 
but  slight,  it  can  be  imagined  what  a  profitable 
source  of  income  rain-making  is  to  the  man  who 
manages  to  establish  a  reputation  as  being  pro- 
ficient in  the  art.  Multitudes  resort  to  him  in 
time  of  drought,  all  laden  with  the  rewards  of 
divination,  which  they  humbly  place  at  his  feet. 
Not  only  this,  but  the  rain-maker  commands 
the  highest  honour  as  being  the  preserver  of  life 
and  the  saviour  of  his  country. 

The  natives  look  upon  the  white  man  as  a 
very  wonderful  being ;  but  they  nevertheless 
think  he  is  lacking  in  one  very  important  quali- 
fication— namely,  that  of  rain-making  !  Were 
he  to  set  himself  up  as  a  rain-doctor  he  would, 
doubtless,  have  a  larger  number  of  clients  than 
any  of  the  native  medicine-men.  But  to  his 
credit,  it  must  be  said,  I  have  never  heard  of  a 
single  instance  in  which  native  credulity  had 
been  traded  upon  in  this  connection  by  any 
European. 

Rain-making  being  also  a  source  of  profit  to 
the  chiefs — the  people  having  to  more  than 
repay  them  for  what  they  expend  in  procuring 
rain  from  the  rain-makers — we  can  understand 
their  reluctance  to  give  up  the  system  ;  and 
the  people,  whether  willing  or  otherwise,  have 
to  bow  to  the  will  of  their  leaders. 

Last  year  the  crops  suffered  very  much  from 
drought,  and  the  chief  here  sought  the  aid  of 
several  sorcerers  to  try  their  magical  powers 
over  the  elements  ;  but  all  to  no  purpose.  One 
day,  in  full  view  of  the  mission-house,  a  great 
crowd  assembled  at  the  chiefs,  when  a  sacrifice 
was  offered  up,  accompanied  with  music  and 
dancing.  A  few  days  afterwards  a  storm  was 
seen  coming  from  the  north,  and  the  chief  and 
his  people  raised  a  shout  of  joy  at  the  thought 
of  coming  rain.  But  to  their  sore  disappoint- 
ment   there    was    only    a    mere   sprinkling,    the 


storm  having  suddenly  changed  its  course  to 
the  westward.  And  what  was  worse  still,  a  stray 
flash  of  lightning  killed  the  chiefs  brother  ! 

One  would  have  thought  from  this  experience 
that  the  chief  would  not  again  resort  to  rain- 
makers, but  this  was  not  to  be,  as  he  went  to 
them  this  year  the  same  as  ever.  The  rainy 
season,  however,  which  ended  in  May,  was  the 
best  for  years ;  so  he  might  have  exulted  in  the 
thought  of  his  success,  had  it  not  been  that  the 
unusual  downfall  brought  unusual  visitors  from 
their  hiding-places,  in  the  shape  of  insects  which 
devoured  the  corn,  leaving  very  little  save  the 
stalks. 

The  rain-makers  of  different  tribes  have 
different  methods  of  making  rain.  But  the 
reader  will  notice  a  remarkable  fact — that  a 
black  sheep  is  indispensable  with  nearly  all  of 
them.     Other  similarities  will  also  be  observed. 

I  shall  now  proceed  to  describe  some  of  the 
many  ways  in  which  African  sorcerers  profess 
to  "  make  "  rain. 

The  rain-maker  first  takes  some  clay  which 
has  been  moistened  with  the  first  shower  at  the 
beginning  of  the  rainy  season,  and  mixes  it 
with  "medicine,"  making  the  compound  into 
seven  or  eight  big,  round  balls,  which  he  places 
in  a  hole,  prepared  for  the  purpose  in  the  fire- 
place. The  hole  is  covered  up,  and  a  fire  kept 
burning  night  and  day  over  it.  My  first  photo- 
graph shows  a  typical  rain-maker  at  work. 

When  the  clouds  indicate  rain,  after  a  spell  of 
dry  weather,  the  rain-doctor  takes  the  balls  of 
clay  from  the  hole  and  puts  them  in  a  pot  of 
water  for  a  short  time,  afterwards  hiding  them 
in  a  corner  of  his  room.  Should  there  be  con- 
tinuous dry  weather,  he  again  puts  them  in  a 
pot  of  water  which  has  had  "  medicine  "  mixed 
with  it.  When  softened  they  are  taken  out  of 
the  pot  and  put  back  in  their  hiding-place.  To 
cause  a  storm  the  witch-doctor  takes  the  balls, 
puts  them  in  a  pot  of  water,  and  stirs  them  with 
a  lighted  stick.  The  hissing  noise  thus  caused 
is  supposed  to  resemble  thunder,  and  the  fire 
lightning  !  The  wand  is  deemed  magical,  and 
the  species  of  tree  from  which  it  is  taken  is 
known  only  to  the  rain-makers. 

When  there  has  been  no  rain  for  some  time, 
and    the    crops    are    drying    up,     the    chief — if 


RAIN-MAKING   IN   SAVAGE   AFRICA. 


13* 


From  a] 


A   TYHCAI.    RAIN-MAKER    AT    WORK. 


ignorant  of  the  art  of  rain-making  himself — 
sends  to  an  expert  to  invoke  his  aid  in 
bringing  rain.  The  messengers  take  with  them 
a  black  cloth  and  a  hoe  or  a  black  sheep.  In 
the  event  of  his  not  being  able  to  come  himself 
the  rain-maker  gives  them  "medicine,"  and  tells 
them  that  the  chief  must 
offer  up  a  sacrifice  of  a 
black  sheep.  The  follow- 
ing day  the  chief  calls 
a  solemn  assembly  of 
the  elders  and  orders 
them  to  bring  various 
presents.  When  gathered 
together  they  have  a 
palaver,  and  at  its  con- 
clusion the  chief  tells 
those  present  to  return 
to  him  on  the  morrow 
and  bring  the  young 
people  with  them.  When 
the  elders  have  dispersed 
the  chief  sends  four 
youths  —  one  to  each 
point  of  the  compass — 
to  fetch  branches  of  a 
tree  (either  igoie  or 
musenn)  as  directed  by 
the  rain-doctor.  These 
branches  are  dragged 
along  the  ground.     Two 

youths  are  also  sent  to  draw  water  from  a 
baobab  tree  or  from  the  source  of  a  stream. 
When  the  chief  repairs  to  bed  for  the  night  he 
takes  the  "  medicine  "  which  he  procured  from 
the  rain-doctor  with  him.  The  four  branches 
and  the  water  are  placed  at  the  foot  of  his  bed. 
In  the  morning  the  chief  has   two   large   pots 


containing  the  water  and  incense 
brought  and  placed  in  the  court- 
yard. Two  of  the  branches 
are  held  horizontally  over  the 
pots,  whilst  the  other  two  are 
rested  against  them  with  their 
thick  ends  inside.  The  chief 
(or  his  mother)  takes  a  mouthful 
of  steeped  flour  and  squirts  it 
out  towards  the  four  quarters 
of  the  globe,  entreating  the 
milungu  (spirits  of  the  fore 
fathers)  to  sleep,  reminding 
them  that  where  they  are  at 
rest  is  a  beautiful  place ;  also 
that,  being  so  numerous,  he 
cannot  call  them  all  by  name. 

He  winds  up  by  imploring 
them  to  allow  the  rain  to  come. 
When  he  has  finished  a  distant 
relation  takes  some  more  of 
the  mixture  in  his  mouth  and  squirts  it  out  in 
the  directions  aforenamed,  at  the  same  time 
abusing  the  milungu  for  keeping  back  the  rain. 
Only  members  of  the 
chiefs  clan  are  present 
at  this  ceremony. 


[Photo. 


Later  in  the  day  crowds 
of  worshippers  assemble, 
and  the  scene  depicted  in 
the  above  illustration  takes 
place.  Here  we  see  a  company  of  natives 
sacrificing  at  the  grave  of  a  chief.  They  are 
offering   up   a    black    sheep,    two    hens    (one 


*32 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


black  and  one  white),  and  linseed  meal. 
The  meal  is  mixed  with  water  at  the  grave,  and 
a  plant  called  mufungulo  (the  opener)  is  put 
into  the  same  vessel.  The  elders  in  turn  take 
some  of  the  mixture  from  the  vessel  in  their 
mouths  and  squirt  it  on  the  grave,  saying, 
"Sleep  well.  Give  us  rain  that  the  earth  may 
yield  food,  so  that  we  may  have  plenty  to  eat." 
The  sheep  is  killed  and  eaten  at  the  grave, 
except  parts  of  the  entrails,  which  are  left  for 
the  benefit  of  the  departed.  The  proceedings 
are  wound  up  with  a  dance. 

Every  rain  maker  has  a  number  (some  more 
and  some  less,  according  to  rank)  of  round 
black  stones,  which 
he  keeps  in  an 
inner  chamber  on 
stools  covered  up 
with  a  black  cloth. 
When  rain  is  much 
needed  the  rain- 
maker takes  the 
stools  on  which  the 
stones  are  placed 
out  into  the  court- 
yard, when  he 
washes  the  stones 
with  water  and 
greases  them  with 
butter.  He  then 
leaves  them  in  the 
sun  until  evening, 
when  they  are  taken 
inside.  On  the 
following  day  the 
rainmaker  and  his 
people  go  to  the 
grave  of  a  notable 
relative,  where  a 
black  animal  or 
fowl  is  sacrificed. 

On      returning 
from  the  grave  the 

rain-maker  cuts  a  branch  of  a  castor-oil  plant 
and  blows  through  its  hollow  stem  into  a  pot 
of  water  containing  "medicine,"  thus  making 
a  noise  which,  in  his  estimation,  resembles  a 
thunderstorm. 

Should  the  rain  not  come  in  answer  to  this, 
the  rain-doctor  adopts  another  device.  He 
takes  one  of  the  stones  and  hides  it,  telling  the 
people  that  the  rain  (i.e.,  the  stone)  has  taken  its 
departure,  and  it  rests  with  them  whether  it  will 
come  back  or  not.  The  people,  of  course,  take 
the  hint,  and  each  "  kaya  "  or  hamlet  contributes 
a  goat.  When  the  goats  are  brought,  the  wily 
rain-maker  offers  up  a  sacrifice  of  a  black  sheep. 
He  cuts  the  liver  in  pieces,  throws  a  piece  in 
each  comer  of  his  room,  and  places  a  fifth  in  a 


cup,  which  is  stood  in  the  middle  for  the  spirits. 
The  rest  of  the  meat  is  eaten  by  the  wizard  and 
his  friends.  The  ceremony  being  over,  he  tells 
the  people  that  the  night  will  probably  bring 
some  important  news  ! 

The  next  photograph  shows  a  sacrificial  cere- 
mony in  full  swing.  On  the  left  will  be  seen 
a  branch  of  a  tree  stuck  in  the  ground.  This 
is  the  musena,  which  is  credited  with  many 
occult  qualities.  The  black  calf  which  is  being 
held  by  the  two  men  is  to  be  slaughtered  at  the 
end  of  the  proceedings.  The  principal  men  of 
the  place   have  to  crawl  underneath  the  animal 


A  SACRIFICIAL  SCENE  IN  FULL  SWING — ALL  THE  I-RINCII'AI. 
MEN  OF  THE  TRIBE  HAVE  TO  CRAWL  UNDER  THE  BODY  OF 
THE   CALF   TO    DEMONSTRATE    THEIR    INNOCENCE   OF    KEEPING 

■  Front  a]  back  the  rain.  [/'koto. 

in  turn,  thereby  making  a  solemn  affirmation 
'  J*>"  to  their  having  no  hand  in  keeping  back 
the  rain.  To  the  right  is  a  sheep,  which  is  being 
sprinkled  with  water,  as  representing  the  effects 
'of  rain.  Close  to  the  grave-looking  medicine- 
man standing  on  the  extreme  right  is  a  man 
drinking  from  an  artificial  pool,  lapping  the 
water  like  a  dog.  This  water  contains 
"  medicine  "  intended  to  have  a  beneficial  effect 
on  those  who  take  part  in  the  ceremony. 

The  elders  having  finished  crawling  under  the 
body  of  the  calf,  all  those  participating  in  the 
proceedings  take  a  draught  from  the  pool,  and 
then  assemble  for  a  dance. 

The  calf  and  sheep  are  killed  on  the  spot  and 
eaten,  save  the  entrails,  which  are  left  for   the 


RAIN-MAKING    IN    SAVAGE    AFRICA. 


i33 


spirits.  These  are  cut  into  pieces  and  thrown  in 
all  directions,  thus  endeavouring  to  secure  the 
favour  of  the  milungu,  wherever  they  reside. 

Sometimes  the  skin  of  the  slaughtered  animal 
is  taken  and  held  by  the  four  corners  whilst 
medicated  water  is  poured  on  to  it.  This  is 
afterwards  splashed  in  all  directions,  in  imitation 
of  a  heavy  shower  of  rain. 

Some  rain-makers  have  a  bamboo  cane,  in 
which  they  secrete  an  important  article  belong- 
ing to  a  deceased  father  or  uncle  who  was  a 
rain-maker.  When  rain  is  required  the  rain- 
maker simply  puts  the  cane  in  water  until  the 
rain  comes.  Should  this  method  fail  he  cuts 
the  head  off  a  black  sheep  and  boils  it  with  the 
stomach,  tongue,  and  fat.  When  cooked  he 
takes  four  round  stones — two  white,  representing 
females,  and  two  black,  representing  males — 
plasters  them  with  the  fat,  and  places  them  on 
a  stool. 

The  following  is  the  chief  way  in  which 
Mundo,  the  great  high  priest  of  the  rain-makers' 
faculty  in  my  neighbourhood,  professes  to  make 
rain.  He  has  a  black  sheep  and  goat  brought 
to  him  by  his  client  —  the  former  being  for 
sacrifice  and  the  latter  his  fee.  He  then  takes 
two  small  vessels  containing  linseed  meal  and 
honey  and   places   them   close   together   beside 

his  stool.     Water  is  mixed  with   the  meal,  and 

mouthfuls  of  it  are  squirted  out  in  all  directions. 

The   honey  is   treated   in  the  same  way.     Then 

the  sheep  is  killed  and  pieces  of  meat  are  placed 

on      leaves,      when      he 

delivers    an    exhortation 

as    follows  :     "  O    thou 

opener,  open   to  us   the 

clouds  above  that  it  may 

rain.     Give  us  plenty  of 

corn    that    we    may    not 

die  of  hunger.    And  you 

that  sleep  in  the  ground 

and  eat  corn,  give  us  to 

eat.     Take  good  care  of 

us  ;    give    us     a     black 

cloud." 

His  wife  next  pounds 

leaves   of  a  certain  tree 

in    a     mortar,    the    pulp 

being    sent   to   the  rain- 
doctor's  client.     This  is 

mixed    with    water    and 

sprinkled  here  and  there 

over    the    fields,    begin- 
ning at  the  outskirts  and 

ending  off  at  the  chiefs 

garden.     If  the  rain  fails 

to  respond,  a  dance  with 

musical    accompaniment 

is  held,  in  which  every- 


one takes  part.  The  natives  not  only  believe 
that  some  men  have  power  to  make  rain,  but 
that  others  are  able  to  stop  it  or  u>  keep  it 
away  altogether.  These  people  are  called 
"  wakoma  mvula  "  (rain-killers). 

To  discover  who  has  stopped  the  rain,  the 
people  go  to  the  chief  and  entreat  him  to  find 
out  the  evil  person  who  has  taken  the  rain  from 
the  earth.  The  chief  promptly  betakes  himself 
to  a  medicine-man,  taking  with  him  a  reward. 
Part  of  this  is  sometimes  hidden  on  the  way,  in 
the  pious  hope  that  the  wizard  may  be  satisfied 
with  the  remainder,  and  should  he  name  the 
thing  so  hidden  his  powers  will  be  all  the  more 
highly  esteemed  by  his  client.  After  the  chief 
has  unfolded  his  tale  the  medicine-man  takes 
his  rattles  and  communes  with  the  spirits.  Sub- 
sequently he  probably  tells  the  chief  that  some- 
one is  keeping  the  rain  away,  and  that  he  goes 
out  at  night  with  a  whistle,  blowing  it  in  the 
direction  of  the  four  points  of  the  compass. 
He  then  asks  the  chief  whether  he  or  his  people 
are  indebted  to  anyone,  or  whether  anyone 
disputes  the  chieftainship  with  him.  If  the 
reply  be  in  the  affirmative,  the  sorcerer  says, 
"  That  is  the  man  who  keeps  the  rain  away  ! 
After  this  important  announcement  he  puts  his 
rattles  on  the  ground  and  rests. 

But  the  work  of  the  medicine-man  is  not  yet 
complete.     He  has  still  to  go  and  find  out  the 


LOOKING    FOR   THE    "DEADLY   THING"    WHICH    IS   SUPPOSED   TO 
From  a]  KEEP  AWAY  THE   KAIN.  [P/wto. 


134 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


"thing"  which  has  been  hidden  by  the  rain- 
stopper.  He  calls  two  children,  boy  and  girl, 
to  go  before  him  pounding  the  ground  with 
pestles,  himself  singing,  and  the  people,  follow- 
ing in  the  rear,  joining  in  the  chorus.  On 
coming  to  an  opening  in  a  tree,  or  a  split  in  a 
rock,  in  which  the  "  deadly  thing "  is  usually 
hidden,  the  medi- 
cine-man tells  the 
children  to  look  in 
the  crevice  and  see 
whether  the  object 
of  their  search  is 
secreted  therein. 
The  medicine- 
man is  right,  for 
presently,  to  the 
joy  of  everybody, 
the  "  thing  "  is 
brought  out  of  its 
hiding-place  by  the 
children  !  What  is 
this  dreadful  object 
which  has  the 
power  of  averting 
the  rain  from  a 
particular  part  of 
the  earth  ?  It  may, 
forsooth,  be  only 
a  lump  of  earth 
mixed  with  old 
corn,  with  the 
feathers  of  a  bird 
stuck  in  it !  When 
the  procession  re- 
turns to  the  chiefs 
house  a  black  sheep 
is  offered  in  sacri- 
fice. The  medicine- 
man has  oceans  of 

praise  lavished  upon  him,  and  returns  to  his 
home  with  the  rewards  of  divination.  He 
himself,  of  course,  had  hidden  the  "deadly 
thing "  in  the  cleft  of  the  rock,  and  so,  on 
the  principle  of  "  he  that  hides  finds,"  he  was 
pretty  certain  of  discovering  it. 

The  following  is  another  curious  method  of 
finding  out  the  person  who  is  maliciously  keep- 
ing away  rain.  The  chief,  acting  on  the  advice 
of  a  medicine-man,  orders  every  householder  in 
the  district  to  bring  a  fowl  each  to  his  house. 
On  arriving  they  have  to  go  through  an 
"ordeal,"  quite  on  the  lines  of  similar  cere- 
monies in  Europe  in  mediaeval  times.  A  decoc- 
tion of  water  and  "  medicine  "  has  been  prepared 
in  a  bowl,  and  this  weird  mixture  their  substi- 
tutes, the  fowls,  have  to  drink.  The  above 
photograph  shows  this  remarkable  ordeal  in 
progress.      Each    fowl    is   drenched   with    the 


one    who     administers    the 
"  If  it  is  a  human  being  who 


liquid,  and  the 
"  medicine"  says: 
is  keeping  away  the  rain,  go  over  yonder  and  die  ; 
but  if  it  is  God  who  is  preventing  it,  may  you  be 
.preserved  from  death."  The  unfortunate  house- 
holder whose  fowl  happens  to  die  under  this 
treatment  is  thereby  compromised  ;  but  if  he 
shares  its  ownership  with  others,  lots  are  cast  to 
find  out  which  one  of  them  is  the  guilty  party. 
Should  none  of  the  fowls  die,  all  eyes  are 
directed  to  the  richest  man  in  the  crowd,  and 
the  women  rush  at  him  frantically,  butting  him 


THE    ORDEAL     TO     FIND     OUT      THE  RAIN-STOPPER     — EACH 

MAN    BRINGS   A    FOWL,    WHICH    IS   COMPELLED   TO   SWALLOW   A 
NOXIOUS     MIXTURE.       THE     MAN    WHOSE     FOWL    DIES     IS    CON- 

From  a]  sidered  the  guilty  party.  [Photo. 


' FRHortfijaq. 


with  their  heads,  and  crying,  "  Haven't  you  got 
rain  ?  Give  us  rain  !  "  If  ignorant  of  the  art 
he  remains  speechless. 

Sometimes,  when  a  person  suspected  of  keep- 
ing away  the  rain  is  caught  and  tied  up,  he 
confesses  his  guilt,  and  shows  his  accusers 
where  he  has  hidden  his  "medicine" —generally 
a  lump  of  clay  from  the  garden  of  an  enemy, 
mixed  with  old  corn — when  he  may  be  released. 
If  his  accusers  feel  confident  of  his  guilt,  how- 
ever, and  no  confession  is  forthcoming,  they  kill 
him.  This,  however,  cannot  now  be  done, 
except  in  out-of-the-way  places,  the  country 
being  under  German  protection. 

The  rain-doctor,  having  been  the  means  of 
securing  a  good  harvest,  is  sometimes  the  leader 
in  conducting  a  thanksgiving  service  on  account 
of  the  same.    He  has  a  small  euphorbia  tree  cut 


RAIN-MAKING    IN    SAVAGE    AFRICA. 


*35 


down  and  brought  to  a  thoroughfare,  where 
it  is  planted  in  a  hole  and  a  bee-hive-shaped 
hut  built  round  it,  as  shown  in  the  picture 
below.  A  bedstead,  made  of  rough  pieces 
of  sticks,  is  next  placed  in  the  hut,  along 
with  sundry  "  medicines."  The  rain-doctor 
— who  is  assisted  by  an  elder  of  the  place — 
makes  all  the  necessary  preparations  for  sacri- 
ficing in  the  early  morning  before  the  multitude 
of  worshippers  assemble.  All  being  ready,  the 
people  of  the  neighbourhood  are  called  to  assist 
in  the  ceremony  by  dancing  and  singing.  Before 
they  commence,  however,  the  assistant  elder 
makes  a  formal  statement  as  to  the  cause  of 
their  having  come  together  to  sacrifice.  At  the 
conclusion  of  his  speech  all  stand  up  and  pre- 
sent their  offerings,  which  consist  of  pumpkins, 
heads  of  Indian  corn,  cooking-pots,  sieves,  etc. 
These  are,  of  course,  intended  for  the  use  of  the 
spirits.  When  they  have  finished  offering  they  go 
round  and  round  the  hut,  as  seen  in  the  photo- 
graph, singing  praises  to  God  and  the  spirits. 
As  nearly  all  the  heathen  sacrifices  in  these  parts 
are  propitiatory,  one  records  with  pleasure  this 
ceremony  of  praise  and  thanksgiving  which  is 
observed  by  the  Wetumbe  tribe. 

The  native  idea  as  to  how  rain  was  first 
obtained  is  a  very  curious  one.  Long  ago,  they 
say,  there  was  no  rain,  and  all  the  beasts  and 
reptiles  of  the  forest  came  together  to  see  how 
they  could  procure  it.  The  big  animals  suggested 


that  as  they  had  come  together  they  had 
better  cry  aloud  for  rain.  Whereupon  they 
separated  into  herds,  according  to  their  different 
kinds.  The  elephants  led  the  way,  trumpeting 
with  all  their  might ;  then  came  the  rhinos, 
and  after  them  the  giraffes,  and  so  on  down  to 
the  smallest  kinds,  without  moving  the  elements. 
The  reptiles  were  next  called  upon  to  try  their 
voices.  In  response,  the  tortoises,  snakes,  and 
lizards  shouted  their  very  best,  but  without 
avail.  The  frogs,  being  reminded  that  they 
had  not  yet  rendered  any  help,  set  up  a 
loud  croaking,  and  continued  so  doing  until 
the  clouds  gathered  in  the  heavens.  The 
frogs  then  called  upon  the  beasts  to  dig  large 
hollows  in  the  earth  to  receive  the  rain.  When 
they  had  finished  the  water  fell  in  torrents  and 
filled  up  the  hollows  so  as  to  form  lakes. 
Thereupon  the  frogs  told  the  beasts  that,  as 
it  had  rained,  there  would  be  plenty  of  grass  for 
them,  and  they  had  better  go  and  graze  and 
return  to  the  lakes  when  they  were  thirsty  ;  but 
as  for  themselves,  being  chiefs,  they  would 
remain  in  the  lakes  and  eat  mud.  Therefore 
frogs  are  found  in  lakes  and  pools  up  to  the 
present  time,  and  when  heard  croaking  it  is 
deemed  a  sign  that  rain  is  near. 


A    SERVICE   TF    THANKSGIVING    FOR    A   GOOD    HARVEST. 

From  a  Photo. 


AN    ALPINE    TRAGEDY. 

By  Frederic  Lees. 

Among  the  countless  victims  which  the  Alps  have  claimed,  the  hero  of  this  story,  a  Tyrolese  guide 
and  chamois-hunter,  holds  a  unique  position.  For  nearly  a  week  he  lay  helpless,  with  a  fractured  leg 
and  other  injuries,  on  the  very  verge  of  a  dizzy  precipice,  and  with  rare  courage  recorded  his 
impressions  on  paper  as  the  days  dragged  wearily  on.  The  facts  of  this  remarkable  narrative  were 
specially  obtained  for  this  Magazine  from  the  unfortunate  hunter's  rescuers. 


HE  bare  details  of  what  seemed  to 
me  to  be  a  quite  unusual  Alpine 
adventure  having  come  to  my  ears, 
I  immediately  took  train  for  Inns- 
bruck, where  the  hero,  a  man 
named  Fritz  Veber,  was  said  to  reside.  The 
first  thing  on  the  morning  after  my  arrival  I 
asked  the  hotel  proprietor 
if  he  knew  of  a  person  of 
that  name,  and,  if  so,  at 
what  address  I  might  be 
able  to  find  him.  "  Do  I 
know  Fritz  Veber?"  he  ex- 
claimed. "Everybody 
knows  Fritz,  and  a  braver 
guide  never  existed.  But 
I'm  afraid  you've  come  a 
little  out  of  your  way  to 
find  him,  for  he  left  here 
for  Appenzell  over  three 
weeks  ago,  and  there  he 
is  at  the  present  time,  for 
all  I  know,  recovering  from 
the  effects  of  his  terrible 
accident,  of  which  I,  like 
yourself,  have  heard  men- 
tion." 

It  was  somewhat  of  a 
disappointment  to  find  that 
I  had  made  a  useless 
journey  —  useless,  at  any 
rate,  so  far  as  seeing  Veber 
was  concerned  ;  and  there 
was  nothing  to  be  done 
but  again  to  set  off  on  my  quest.  So  I  took 
the  next  train  for  Appenzell,  after  learning 
as  much  as  I  could  about  the  man  whom 
I  was  going  to  see.  The  hotel  proprietor 
and  a  communicative  garpn  who  had  waited 
upon  me  at  table  informed  me  that  Veber 
was  a  native  of  Innsbruck,  but  that  his 
parents  had  died  many  years  ago  and  that 
his  only  living  relative,  so  far  as  was  known,  was 
a  brother,  named  Henri  Veber,  a  wood-carver 
and  sometimes  guide,  who  had  likewise  left  the 
town  of  his  birth  for  Appenzell.  Fritz  Veber 
was  a  fine  young  fellow  of  twenty-nine  years  of 


FRITZ      VERER,    WHO      EXPKKI 
WHILE     CHAMOIS-  HUNTING 
HELPLESS    FOR    NEARLY    A    W 
From  a]  PRECi 


age,  slightly  above  the  average  height  and 
strongly  built.  He  was  passionately  fond  of 
chamois-hunting,  on  which  he  spent  most  of 
the  money  earned  during  the  summer  months 
as  a  guide.  As  he  was  unmarried  and  had  no 
ties,  this  seemed  to  him  to  be  the  most  legiti- 
mate way  of  spending  part  of  his  earnings.     A 

more  competent  guide,  I 
was  informed,  never  existed. 
"  He  is  genial  and  strong," 
said  the  innkeeper.  "  He 
speaks  German  and  French 
with  correctness,  and,  in 
short,  is  what  we  call  a 
well-educated  man.  He 
is  a  botanist  in  a  small 
way,  and  so  fond  of  roam- 
ing in  the  mountains  that 
we  rarely  see  him  here 
either  in  the  winter  or  in 
the  summer.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  Fritz  is  better 
known  in  the  Canton  of 
Grisons  than  in  the  Tyrol, 
and  that  is  where  you  will 
be  able  to  obtain  fuller 
details  about  him." 

The  hotel  proprietor  was 
right.  Appenzell,  with  its 
picturesque  wooden  houses, 
had  no  sooner  been  reached 
than  I  heard  the  entire 
story  of  Fritz  Veber's 
adventure,  though  not, 
alas  !  from  his  own  lips,  for  I  found  that  he  had 
died  from  the  effects  of  his  terrible  experiences 
over  a  fortnight  before  my  arrival.  Fortunately 
I  was  able  to  obtain  the  whole  of  the  details  of 
his  accident  from  the  two  men  who  rescued 
him,  W.  Rietmann  and  A.  Pauson,  and  the 
following,  as  near  as  possible  in  his  own  words, 
is  the  narrative  of  the  former. 

A  little  over  a  month  ago  I  received  a  letter 
from  Veber  stating  that  he  had  done  very  well 
last  season  as  a  guide,  and,  feeling  in  a  mood 
for  sport,  intended  coming  to  see  me,  though,  in 


tNCED     A     TERRIBLE     IALL 
IN     THE     ALPS,     AND     LAY 
EEK     ON     THE     EDGE    OF    A 
PICE.  [Photo. 


AN    ALPINE    TRAGEDY. 


137 


his  usual  happy-go-lucky  style, 
he  could  not  say  exactly  when 
he  should  arrive  at  Appenzell 
from  Innsbruck.  About  a 
week  later  he  turned  up  at 
my  place,  having  crossed  the 
Canton  of  Orisons  on  foot — 
his  customary  method  of 
travelling  even  when  he  was 
in  funds.  I  remember  that 
the  exact  date  of  his  arrival 
was  March  26th.  Veber, 
Pauson,  and  I  spent  the  next 
week  in  visiting  mutual  friends 
in  the  immediate  neighbour- 
hood, for,  all  being  guides  by 
profession,  we  have  many 
friends  and  interests  in  com- 
mon. On  one  of  our  little 
excursions  I  remember  him 
telling  us  how  it  came  about 
that  he  had  decided  to  take 
a  holiday.  He  had  received 
a  present  of  four  hundred 
marks  from  a 
Bavarian  Alpin- 
ist whose  life  he 
had  saved  in  the 
Grisons  moun- 
tains, by  jerking 
him  out  of  the 
way  of  an  ava- 
lanche of  stones 
which  had  sur- 
prised them  when 
ascending  a  par- 
ticularly danger- 
ous slope.  Re- 
garding this  as 
an  "extra,"  he 
thought  he  would 
enjoy  himself  for 
a  few  weeks  by 
seeing  his  friends 
and  indulging  in 
his  favourite  sport 
of  chamois -hunt- 
ing in  the  Appen- 
zell mountains. 

From  several 
remarks  which  he 
made  during  our 
week's  visiting  I 
could  see  that  he 
was  longing  to  be 
off  with  his  gun 
into  the  moun- 
tains. At  last  he 
broached     the 

Vol.  xiv.— 18 


THE     TWO    GUIDES    WHO    SET    OUT    TO    FIND    FRITZ 

VF.BF.R — W.  RIETMANN,  WHO  RELATED  THIS  STORY 

TO   THE    AUTHOR,    IS    THE    RIGHT-HAND    FIGURE. 

From  a  Photo. 


'ONE     FALSE    STEP    MIGHT    HAVE    RESULTED    IN    OUR    MEET- 
ING   A    SIMILAR    FATE   TO   THAT   OF    OUR    POOR    FRIEND." 


subject  to  us,  suggest- 
ing a  three  days'  shooting 
excursion  to  the  Santis 
Range,  which  is  supposed  to 
be  particularly  good  for  cha- 
mois. Unfortunately,  neither 
of  us  was  able  to  ac< 
pany  him.  Pauson  expected 
relatives,  and  as  regards  my- 
self important  business,  which 
I  could  not  very  well  pi 
pone,  made  such  a  journey 
impossible.  Poor  Veber  was 
bitterly  disappointed,  but  as 
he  was  used  to  going  about 
the  mountains  alone  he  set 
off  without  us,  promising  to 
be  back  in  three  days'  time  at 
the  latest,  and  on  his  return 
to  remain  with  us  for  a  few 
more  days  before  going  back 
to  Innsbruck. 

The  three  days  passed  by, 
but  Veber  did  not  make  his 
appearance.  I 
cannot  say,  how- 
ever, that  we 
were  very  anxious 
at  first,  for  it  was 
quite  likely  that 
he  had  been  de- 
layed. Only  on 
the  fifth  day  after 
his  departure  did 
I    besrin    to    have 

O 

doubts  as  to  his 
safety.  When  he 
did  not  turn  up 
after  a  week  I  felt 
certain  that  some 
mishap  must  have 
come  to  him,  so 
Pauson  and  I  set 
off  on  a  voj 
of  discovery. 

Having     previ 
ously       accom- 
panied    him     on 
similar      shooting 
expeditions,  we 
had    a    very  good 
idea   as    to   the 
route     he    w 
follow.    The  snow- 
clad   Santis  is  the  highesl    moun- 
tain   in    the  canton,    being    eight 
thousand  two  hundred  and  thirty- 
five  feet   in  height.      But   I   think 
Pauson    and    I    can    say,    without 


i38 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


boasting,  that  we  knew  it  as  intimately  as 
the  streets  of  our  native  village  of  Appenzell. 
If  Veber  had  not  been  buried  under  an 
avalanche,  which  was  unlikely  at  this  time 
of  the  year,  I  felt  certain  that  we  should 
find  him.  And  so  we  did.  On  reaching  the 
top  of  one  of  the  peaks  of  the  Santis,  not  with- 
out a  thousand  difficulties,  I  espied  his  body 
lying  on  a  narrow  ledge  of  rock,  at  the  very 
edge  of  a  precipice  which  I  estimated  to  be  at 
least  six  hundred  feet  in  depth,  and  which 
terminates  in  a  glacier.  At  that  moment  there 
was  no  doubt  to  my  mind  that  we  should  find 
him  dead.  Judge  of  my  astonishment,  there- 
fore, when  we  found,  after  carefully  working  our 
way  down  the  side  of  the  mountain,  that  he  was 
still  alive,  though  evidently  in  the  last  stages  of 
exhaustion. 

Never  have  I  experienced  such  a  difficult 
task  as  we  then  began.  It  is  no  easy  matter 
travelling  over  a  snow-and-ice-clad  mountain 
with  a  living  person  under  one's  guidance,  but 
imagine  what  it  is  to  transport  the  dead  weight 
of  an  injured  and  unconscious  man  over  miles 
upon  miles  of  frozen  snow.  One  false  step 
might  have  resulted  in  our  meeting  a  similar 
fate  to  that  of  our  poor  friend.  The  marvel  to 
me  is  that  we  ever  succeeded  in  getting  him 
down  to  the  house  of 
a  farmer  named 
Studer.  There  he 
was  put  to  bed  and  a 
doctor  immediately 
summoned  to  ex- 
amine him. 

It  was  found  that 
Veber  had  sustained 
a  compound  fracture 
of  the  right  leg,  that 
two  of  his  ribs  were 
broken,  and  that  he 
was  internally  injured. 
The  poor  fellow  was 
very  near  his  end  by 
the  time  the  doctor 
arrived,  and  he  only 
once  recovered  con- 
sciousness before  his 
death.  I  cannot  be 
certain  as  to  whether 
he  recognised  me  or 
not,  but  I  rather  think 
he  did,  for  the  few 
broken  sentences 
which  faintly  passed 
his  lips  seemed  to  be 
an  explanation  of  the 
circumstances  of  his 
accident, 


Piecing  together  his  words  and  construing 
them  in  the  light  of  my  knowledge  of  the  place 
where  the  accident  occurred,  this,  in  my  opinion, 
is  what  happened.  Veber  climbed  the  mountain 
from  the  left  side,  across  the  ridge,  and,  sight- 
ing his  quarry  near  the  summit,  worked  his  way 
around  so  as  to  arrive  above  the  animal.  When 
he  fired,  his  bullet  hit  the  chamois  in  a  vital 
spot,  but,  instead  of  falling  where  he  could  easily 
reach  it,  the  animal  dropped  some  forty  feet 
down  the  ice  slope,  which  is  exceedingly  steep. 
Veber  then  attempted  to  reach  it  by  carefully 
climbing  down  the  slope,  but  in  so  doing  his 
foot  slipped  and  he  fell  from  about  midway, 
landing  near  the  dead  body  of  the  chamois  on 
the  very  edge  of  the  precipice.  To  have  made 
his  way  down  the  right  side  of  the  mountain 
would  have  been  quite  possible,  though  difficult, 
for  an  able-bodied  man,  the  ledge  on  which  he 
had  landed  broadening  out  as  it  stretches 
towards  the  ridge.     Veber  found,  however,  that 


HIS    FOOT   SLIPPED    AND 
HE    FELL    FROM    ABOUT 
MIPWAY," 


AN    ALPINE    TRAGEDY. 


139 


THE   SANT1S    RANGE— THE   SCENE   OF    FRITZ    VEBEr's   ACCIDENT    IS    MARKED    BY   A    CROSS. 

From  a  Photo. 


he  was  too  seriously  injured  by  his  fall  to  move 
more  than  his  arms,  and  there  he  was  obl'ged 
to  lie,  with  his  legs  half  hanging  over  the 
precipice.  He  was,  in  fact,  in  a  living  tomb— a 
precipice  in  front  of  him  and  an  unsurmountable 


Veber  must  have  spent  nearly  a  week  in  this 
terrible  predicament.  What  his  agony  must 
have  been  owing  to  his  injuries — with  the 
broiling  hot  sunshine  in  the  daytime  and  die 
piercing  cold  at    night — will   never   be   known, 


ONE   OF   THE    PAGES    FROM    VEBER  S     NOTE-BOOK     IN    WHICH     HE     RECORDED     HIS     IMPRESSIONS    .MULE   LYING    HELPLESS    ON    THE 


BRINK    OF  THE  PRECIPICE.      THE   GERMAN    MEANS 


TO    DIE    HERE    ABANDONED?      NO  ;    I    MUST   SHih  ,    FOR  THE 


AGONY   IS   TOO   GRgAT   TO    SEAR,       FRJTZ,    DON  T    BE   A    COWARD-,    SOMEBODY   IS   SURE   TO   COME.      I    THINK    I    HEAR    FOOTSTEPS. 


slope  behind  him.     Hope  of  rescue  there  was 
none,  unless  his  friends  should  come  in  search 
of  him   and  happen   to   catch   sight   of  him— a 
mere  speck  against  the  snow— where  he  lay. 
Pauson   agrees    with    me    in    thinking   that 


but  we  can  well  imagine  his  sufferings,  especially 
in  view  of  the  terrible  state  in  which  we  found 
him.  His  water-gourd  was  empty  and  there 
was  not  a  crumb  of  bread  in  his  wallet  ;  he  had 
evidently  sucked  pieces  of  ice  for  refreshment, 


140 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


his  lips  being  cracked  and  frozen.  '  His  hands 
and  face  were  covered  with  blood,  as  was  also 
his  clasp-knife,  which  had  been  used  to  cut  the 
chamois'  throat  and  detach  a  haunch  from  its 
body.  Judging  from  these  facts  there  is  little 
doubt   that   Veber,    in    the    agony  of  pain  and 


don't  be  a  coward ;  somebody  is  sure  to 
come.  I  think  I  hear  footsteps. '  "  Dear 
Henri,  shall  I  see  you  again?"  "My  dear 
little  chamois,  good-bye."  "Good-bye  all; 
good-bye  Santis." 

The  last  phrase  was  his  final  message,  and,  still 


HIS   FEET   DANGLING    OVEli    THE   EDGE   OF 
THAT    AWKUL    PKECIPICE." 


hunger,  drank  the  animal's  blood  and  ate  its 
flesh  raw.  He  must  have  retained  conscious- 
ness for  an  unusually  long  time,  for  he  actually 
recorded  his  impressions  —  practically  the 
thoughts  of  a  dying  man — on  pieces  of  paper 
torn  from  his  pocket-book.  There  were  only 
half-a-dozen  fragments  in  all,  but  each,  written 
at  intervals  of,  say,  ten  hours  or  so,  tells  a 
whole  story  in  itself.  Here  are  a  few  of  the 
phrases  which  I  deciphered  on  the  blood-stained 
paper:  "What  a  beautiful  sunset,  but  how  I 
am  dreading  to-night's  cold!"  "Am  I  to  die 
here  abandoned  ?  No  ;  I  must  shoot  myself, 
for    the    agony    is   too    great    to   bear.      Fritz, 


thinking  of  his  beloved  mountains  and  of  his 
brother  Henri,  he  lost  consciousness.  That  is 
how  we  found  him,  as  I  have  already  told  you  : 
his  gun  on  one  side,  the  body  of  the  chamois 
on  the  other,  and  his  feet  dangling  over  the 
edge  of  that  awful  precipice.  Nothing  more 
remains  to  be  said,  except  that  I  shall  be  glad 
to  let  you  photograph  the  sheets,  all  crumpled 
and  blood-stained,  which  bear  his  dying  words. 
But  I  shouldn't  care  to  let  them  out  of  my 
possession  for  long,  for,  as  you  may  well 
imagine,  I  regard  those  scraps  of  paper — the 
only  thing  which  our  dear  friend  left  us — as  the 
most  precious  things  in  the  world. 


A  startling  article  by  an  English 
journalist  resident  in  Paris.  All 
about  the  ingenious  frauds  by 
which  Parisian  mendicants  de- 
ceive the. charitable  public  ;  the  Beggars'  Directory,  and  the  schools  where 
beggars  are  taught  the  rudiments  of  their   trade    and  learn  new  "  parts." 


mM 


HE    b  1  i  n  d 
m  a  n    h  a  d 

tried  to  steal 
my  poodle, 
and  had  Fos- 
sette  not  been  a  good 
deal  of  an  acrobat  her- 
self I  think  he  would 
have  got  her.  It  was 
dusk,  and  the  man's 
activity  as  he  dodged 
the  dog  to  right  and 
left  struck  me  as  curious, 
for  I  had  watched  the 
scene  from  the  street 
corner. 

After  some  minutes  I 
went  up  to  him.  "  You're 
not  going  to  pretend 
you're  blind  after  what 
I  have  seen,"  I  said.  He 
laughed.  "  One  must 
live,"  he  said,  with  a 
half  -  laughing,  half- 
apologetic  look,  which 
disarmed  me. 

"Trade  has  been 
very  bad,  and  I 
thought      that      your 


r.KRVAIS,    THE 
From  a] 


BLIND  "     BEGGAR    WHO   TRIED    TO 
AUTHORS    DOG. 


STEAL    THE 

[Photo. 


dog  would  be  of  use  to 
me.     She's  a  beauty.'' 

And  so,  because 
this  man  had  tried 
to  steal  Fossette  and 
failed,  we  became 
friends,  and  Gervais, 
the  "blind  "  beggar, 
became  confidential. 

It  was  he  who  ini- 
tiated me  into  many 
of  the  secrets  here 
unfolded,  and  put  me 
in  the  way  of  finding 
out  others  for  myself; 
and  it  was  through 
him  that  I  became 
free  of  that  peculiar 
borderland  between 
honest  poverty  and 
crime  which  is  the 
home  of  the  Parisian 
mendicant,  for  such 
facts  in  this  article  as 
arc  not  gathered  from 
my  own  wanderings 
in  Beggarland  1  have 
to  thank  Monsieur 
Paulian,  of  the  French 


142 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


Chamber  of  Deputies,  whose  admirable  volume, 
"  Paris  qui  Mendie,"  is  the  best  text-book  upon 
mendicancy  ever  written. 

In  Paris,  more  than  any  other  place  on  the 
earth's  surface,  begging  is  practised  as  an  art. 
Italian,  Spanish,  and  Oriental  beggars  may  be 
more  barefacedly  insistent  than  those  of  Paris, 
but  they  merely  beg  or  threaten.  The  Paris 
member  of  the  craft  adopts  a  part  and  acts  it 
with  consummate  art  and  artifice,  for — and  I 
state  this  with  no  fear  of  contradiction — a  full 
80  per  cent,  of  the  Parisian  beggars  are  in 
no  misery  whatever,  and  ply  their  trade  from 
sheer  love  of  it  and  for  the  comfortable  income 
it  affords. 

Broadly  speaking,  we  may  divide  the  corpora- 
tion into  two  divisions,  street  and  house  beggars — 


but  a  mere  apprentice."  The  fact  is  that 
beggary  in  Paris  has  its  grades  exactly  as  has 
carpentering  or  any  other  trade,  the  apprentice 
becoming  in  due  course  a  compagnon  and  then 
a  master  beggar,  although  I  have  no  record  of 
actually  conferred  degree  certificates. 

The  beggar  apprentice  usually  commences  in 
the  street  by  begging  from  the  passers-by.  He 
does  not  find  this  very  successful,  for  he  has  not 
yet  learned  the  copper-compelling  whine,  and 
on  the  next  day  he  will  very  likely  try  what  is 
professionally  known  as  the  pied  de  biche,  or  bell- 
rope  dodge,  owing  to  the  fact  that  the  old- 
fashioned  non-electric  bells  in  Paris  usually  have 
a  handle  made  to  represent  a  hind's  foot. 

He  chooses  streets  in  the  suburbs  where  the 
houses  have  no  concierge,  and  where  the  door  is 


From  a] 


"  LOOKING    FOR    WoUK. 


[Photo. 


those  mendicants,  that  is  to  say,  who,  by  real  or 
simulated  misfortune,  physical  or  moral,  prey  on 
your  sympathy  in  the  street,  and  those  who  beg 
from  house  to  house  and  from  the  numerous 
charitable  institutions. 

There  are  in  Paris  numerous  schools  for  both 
kinds  of  professionals,  and,  although  these  are 
very  difficult  of  access  and  constantly  change 
their  whereabouts,  there  is  no  doubt  that  they 
exist  and  flourish.  Talk  to  one  Paris  beggar  of 
another  and  gain  his  confidence,  or  catch  him 
tripping,  and  you  will  find  that  he  will  allude  to 
another  beggar  on  the  same   beat  as   "  nothing 


usually  opened  by  the  cook,  and  between  nine 
o'clock  and  two  he  has  probably  rung  two  hundred 
bells  and  (this  from  a  statistical  sheet  compiled 
by  the  beggars  themselves)  received  something 
either  in  food  or  money  from  one  house  in 
every  four.  The  bread  and  meat  gives  him 
a  more  than  sufficient  meal,  and  he  will  have 
quite  half  a  crown  in  money,  with  which  he 
will  spend  a  riotous  evening  in  one  of  the  wine- 
shops of  the  Rue  des  Anglais  or  the  Rue  Ste. 
Marguerite,  where  he  can  get  sufficient  liquor 
for  the  sum  of  fivepence  for  his  evening's 
happiness,  and,  thanks  to  the  performances  of 


BEGGARLAND    UNMASKED. 


i43 


A    MENDICANT    READING   THE    "  HEGGARS'    DIRECTORY.' 

From  a  Photo. 

street  singers  and  performing  beggars  of  all 
kinds,  enjoy  a  very  pleasant  time.  At  mid- 
night he  will  sleep  in  a  twopenny  doss-house, 
where  conversation  with  older  members  of 
the  craft  will  help  to  initiate  him  into  the 
details  of  the  trade. 

Apprenticeship  lasts  about  six  weeks  in 
Beggarland,  and  then  our  beggar,  now  a 
compag?ion,  adopts  a  speciality,  and  becomes  a 
member  either  of  the  active  or  the  sedentary 
service.  In  either  case — whether  he  begs  from 
door  to  door  or  takes  up  a  fixed  position  whence 
he  solicits  sympathy  for  "  his  unhappy  state  " — 
the  beggar  naturally  needs  statistics,  and  these 
he  can  get  from  head-quarters  for  the  expenditure 
of  a  few  francs  upon  the  Beggars'  Director}'. 
There  are  two  forms  of  it,  Le  Grand  Jeu  and  Le 
Petit  Jeu,  the  former,  needless  to  say,  being  the 
more  detailed.  It  costs  four  shillings,  while  the 
Petit  Jeu  costs  half  a  crown. 

High  although  these  prices  may  appear,  the 
saving  of  time  and  mistakes  the  information  in 
the  books  affords  is  more  than  worth  the  money. 

Here  are  a  few  extracts  from  the  Grand  Jeu  :— 

M.B.,  never  gives  money.     Ask  for  clothes. 

Mrs.  C,  widow.  Charitable,  but  children  necessary. 
Ask  for  babies'  clothes  and  necessaries  for  mother.  Also 
tickets  for  milk  for  baby. 

M.F.,  a  Radical.  Very  rich.  Represent  yourself  as  a 
victim  of  Clerics,  whom  he  hates. 

It  is  easy  to  see  that  with  help  of  this  kind 


the  beggar  frequently,  if 
not  invariably,  succeeds, 
and  in  addition  to  the 
directory  there  are 
lessons  to  be  had  from 
professors,  who  will,  for 
a  small  fee,  teach  the 
kind  of  story  to  be  told 
and  the  tone  in  which 
to  tell  it.  That  such 
professors  exist  was 
proved  to  me  not  long 
ago,  when,  on  the  sarm 
afternoon,  visiting  two 
friends  of  diametrically 
opposed  opinion,  1 
heard  two  different  tales 
of  misery  told  in  the 
same  voice  and  with 
the  same  inflections  by 
two  different  men,  who 
were  quite  evidently 
pupils  of  the  same 
professor. 


"  LE    I'ERE    ROCHEFORT" —  HIS    NICKNAME    1^    I'll      TO  HIS  STRIKING 
RESEMBLANCE   TO  THE   WELL-KNOWN     FRENCH    JOURNALIST,  W 

OFFER   OF    ;£lO   DOWN    II     HE   WOULD   ALTER    HIS   APPEARANCE   THE 

From  a]         beggar  conte.mptuouslv  refused.         [J'/wlo. 


144 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


The  fact  that  France  has  no  State  religion  is 
very  cleverly  used  by  house-to-house  beggars, 
who,  with  the  help  of  the  Grand  feu,  call 
upon  Protestants  and  Catholics  alike  with 
stories  of  a  baby  unbaptized  for  want  of  money. 
Monsieur  Paulian  says  that  during  a  conver- 
sation with  an  old  woman  in  the  Cite  de  la 
Femme  en  Culotte,  in  the  Clichy  suburb,  he 
learned  that  the  Protestant  pastor  called  on 
Mondays  and  the  Catholic  priest  and  sisters  on 
Saturdays,  and  that  each  of  the  two  Churches 
was  extremely  anxious  to  enrol  converts  among 
the  population  of  the  Cite. 

"  What  about  your  own  children  ?  "  Monsieur 
Paulian  asked. 

"  Oh,  mine,"  she  said  ;  "  I've  only  one,  but 
mine  has  been  baptized  twelve  times  in  a 
Protestant  church  and  fourteen  times  by 
Monsieur  le  Cure.  You  see,  the  winter  has 
been  hard,  and  every  baptism  brought  me  in 
tenpence  and  some  baby-linen  !  " 

Another  system  of  extracting  money  which 
has  come  under  my  own  notice  is  an  extremely 
ingenious  one.  A  man  dressed  in  dark  clothes, 
threadbare  but  clean,  calls  at  the  houses  of  as 
many  men  of  letters  as  the  Grand /^contains, 


THE   "POOR    BLIND    MAN  "    OF   THE    PONT    DU    CARROUSEL.       HE    IS 

Froma\        really  blind,  but  anything  but  poor.        [Photo. 


YVES,    THE    "BLIND"    BRETON.      ON    FETE-DAYS    HE  MARVELLOUSLY 
RECOVERS    HIS   SIGHT   AND   WEARS    A    WOODEN    LEG  ! 

From  a  Photo. 

and  leaves  a  letter,  saying  he  will  call  for  an 
answer  in  the  course  of  the  evening. 

The  letter  contains  a  set  of  verses  by  no 
means  badly  written,  and  a  note  begging  you 
to  leave  such  scraps  of  food  as  you  can  spare 
with  your  concierge;  your  unfortunate  confrere, 
it  adds,  will  call  for  them  in  the  course  of  the 
evening.  The  verses  are  written  by  Latin 
Quarter  poets  for  a  fee  of  a  penny  a  line,  for 
which  sum  they  furnish  fifty  copies  upon  dirty 
paper.  I  have  italicized  this  essential  point,  for 
it  illustrates  the  infinite  attention  to  detail  by 
which  the  successful  beggar  scores. 

I  used  to  know  one  man  who  made  a  speciality 
of  marriages.  He  had  a  most  extensive  reper- 
toire of  rhymed  acrostics  upon  the  names  of  all 
the  saints  in  the  calendar,  and  as  soon  as  he  saw 
a  marriage  announced  he  would  make  his  way 
with  an  acrostic  on  the  bride's  name  to  the 
restaurant  or  house  where  the  wedding-breakfast 
was  given,  and  at  dessert  would  send  it  up. 

The  first  portion  of  the  poem— that  which 
precedes  the  acrostic  proper— is,  of  course,  the 
same  in  every  case.  Here  is  a  sample  roughly 
translated  : — 

TO    MADEMOISELLE   ALICE   DUVAL. 

Take  wing,  my  muse,  and  fly  on  wings  of  love 
Up  to  the  halls  of  festival  above. 
Seek  out  the.  bride  and  give  to  her  this  verse, 
Writ  by  a  poet  under  Fortune's  curse. 


BEGGARLAND    UNMASKED. 


145 


Tell  her  his  sorrows  he  has  conquered  now, 
That  not  a  cloud  may  darken  her  fair  brow 
On  this  her  marriage  morning.     Give  her  then 
These  wishes  fallen  from  a  poet's  pen, 
And,  like  the  dove  of  old  from  Noah's  ark, 
Return  with  light  upon  my  future  dark. 

ALICE. 

A  11  blessings  fall  upon  this  happy  day  ; 
L  et  nothing  evil  cross  thy  life's  fair  way. 
I  n  everything  thou  dost,  achieve  success, 
C  herished  by  all  in  perfect  happiness. 
E  xceeding  j<>v  will  be  your  own,  I  know  it, 
Fair  Mademoiselle,  vour  humble  slave, 

The  Poet. 

Needless  to  say,  with  this  effusion  handed  in 
at  the  psychological  moment,  the  muse  rarely 
fails  to  "  return  with  light  upon  "  the  poet's 
"  future  dark,"  in  the  form  of  ten  or  twenty 
francs.  My  friend  has  now  retired  from 
business.  He  lived  well  on  the  proceeds  of 
his  ingenuity  for  some  ten  years,  and  used  to 
say  that,  deducting  necessary  expenses,  cabs 
upon  busy  days  among  others,  he  made  his 
twenty-five  to  thirty  pounds  a  month. 

A  number  of  societies  in  Paris  which  furnish 
false  legs  and  arms  to  people  who,  having  lost 
their  limbs  in  accidents,  are  too  poor  to  buy 
them  are  shamefully  exploited,  and  so  general 
is  this  exploitation  that  a  man  short  of  a  leg  or 
an  arm  is  known  in  the  jargon  of  the  beggar  as 
itn  medaille  militaire,  or  man  with  a  military 
medal,  for  the  income  he  realizes  from  the 
number  of  limbs  he  obtains  and  sells  is  worth 
as  much  as  the  veteran  soldier's  pension  of  one 
pound  a  week. 

And  now  let  us  talk  about  the  schools   for 


THERE    IS   REALLY   NOTHING   THE    MATTER    WITH   THIS   GENTLFMAN 

From  a]       but  his  cleverly -staged  "helplessness"  brim.s  h 
VoL  xiv.— 19. 


I. 

ONE   OF   THE   WEALTHIEST    BEGGARS   IN    PARIS — HE   LOST  ONE    LEG 
IN    AN    ACCIDENT,  AND   GOT   A    FRIEND   TO   CUT   OFF   THE   OTHER. 

Prom  a  Photo. 

beggars,  of  which  there  are  a  number  in  Paris. 
These  are  run  by  retired  beggars,  knowing  all 
the  tricks  of  the  trade  and  well  versed  in  every 
possible  dodge  and  every  form  ofwhini   useful 

for  extracting  money 
from  the  charitably 
inclined.  One  of 
these  schoolmasters, 
known  as  Monsieur 
Populo,  permitted  the 
writer  of  this  article 
to  visit  his  establish- 
ment under  his  guid- 
ance. Populo  is  quite 
an  aristocrat  in  di 
for  Beggarland,  and  I 
suspect  him  of  making 
a  large  income  out  of 
his-  profit  on  the 
Grand  Jca,  which  he 
publishes  and  edits. 

It  was  the  back 
room  of  a  wine-shop 
in  the  Montparnasse 
Quarter  and  crowded 
to  overflowing.  1 1 
Monsieur  Populo  gav< 
lessons  in  his  art,  and 
I  was  privileged  to  see 
the  students    learning 


r    INCORRIGIBLE    LAZINESS, 
IM    ISA    GOOD    INCOME.  \.PhotO. 


146 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


the  marks  to  make  on  farmhouses,  showing  what 
charity  might  be  expected  there,  while  others — 
higher-class  ones,  these — learned  how  to  do  the 
pavement-pictures,  which  invariably  draw  coppers 
from  the  passers-by. 

But  the  most  interesting  thing  I  witnessed  in 
Populo's  school  was  the  singing  lesson.  A  little 
observation  of  the  songs  sung  in  the  streets 
by  Paris  beggars  will  convince  you  that  the 
repertoire  of  the  whole  confraternity  consists  of 
about  half-a-dozen  songs  in  all,  and  these  are 
taught  them  by  their  master,  so  that  they  may 
be  sung  with  abso- 
lutely the  same  in- 
tonation. A  dozen  or 
more  learn  the  same 
song  simultaneously, 
singing  it  in  chorus 
like  charity  children 
repeat  the  alphabet, 
and  not  until  there  is 
no  discordant  note  is 
the  lesson  finished. 
These  songs  are  sold 
them  by  the  master  at 
two  francs  apiece,  and 
are  a  very  profitable 
investment. 

Monsieur  Paulian, 
by  way  of  proving  from 
his  own  experience  the 
fraudulent  means  by 
which  Paris  beggars 
appeal  to  charity,  has, 
in  his  time,  assumed  a 
number  of  disguises. 
He  has  been  a  cul-de- 
jatte,  or  legless  cripple, 
blind,  a  street  singer, 
a  workman  without 
work,  a  schoolmaster 
without  employment, 
paralytic,  deaf  and 
dumb,  and  in  each  disguise  been  perfectly 
successful.  Once  only  was  he  incommoded  by 
the  police,  and  that  when  begging  at  a  church 
door,  where  the  mendicant  renters  of  the 
"  beat "  handed  him  over  to  the  police.  He 
found  that  in  the  space  of  less  than  half  an  hour 
he  had  gathered  a  shilling's  worth  of  coppers,  so 
that  the  trade  is  evidently  a  good  one. 

There  is  no  difficulty  whatever  in  getting 
clothes  to  fit  the  part.  There  are  shops  where 
these  garments  are  sold,  and  where,  for  a  small 
fee,  good  clothes  can  be  turned  into  pity- 
inspiring  garments.  I  myself  gave  a  very  decent 
coat  one  morning  to  a  beggar  who  had  pleaded 
his  rags  as  a  bar  to  getting  work,  and  two  days 
afterwards  I  saw  him   in  it,   but   the  coat  was 


MONSIEUR    POPULO,    THE   BEGGARS    TUTOR 


fearfully  and  wonderfully  changed.  Inquiry  led 
to  the  information  that  the  coat  had  been 
"  repaired "  for  twopence  in  one  of  these 
costumiers'  shops. 

The  fortunes  made  by  Paris  beggars  are  some- 
times enormous.  One  of  them,  Pere  Antoine, 
a  hunchback,  died  recently.  As  he  was  being 
put  into  the  coffin  the  amazing  discovery  was 
made  that  the  hump  on  his  back  consisted  of  a 
sort  of  strong  box  made  of  basket-work,  in  which 
he  carried  his  savings,  amounting  to  the  respect- 
able sum  of  ninety-six  thousand  francs,  or  very 

nearly    four    thousand 
pounds ! 

Pere  Antoine's  real 
name  was  Pucciarelli, 
and  he  had  made  his 
money  by  means  of  a 
long  white  beard  —  a 
false  one— and  a  great 
show  of  piety. 

The  worst  form  of 
beggary  in  Paris  is 
that  which  consists  of 
hiring  and  letting  out 
children  to  inspire 
pity.  A  Monsieur 
Dumay,  a  deputy,  was 
recently  visited  by  a 
poor  woman,  and  gave 
her  a  small  sum.  He 
promised  further  help 
if  on  inquiry  her  case 
should  prove  to  be 
genuine,  and  went  to 
make  inquiries  himself 
at  the  address  which 
she  had  given  him. 
On  his  arrival  there 
the  concierge  of  the 
miserable  house  di- 
[p/wto.  rected  him  to  a  room 
on  the  sixth  floor,  and, 
as  he  neared  the  door,  a  small  boy  called  out, 
"  Mother,  I  am  hungry ;  give  me  a  bit  of 
bread."  "  I  can't,  dear  child,"  the  mother 
answered.  "  I  only  have  one  little  piece,  and 
I  am  keeping  that  for  father,  in  case  he  should 
come  home  again  without  having  found  work." 

Monsieur  Dumay  gave  the  poor  woman  some 
more  money,  and  made  straight  for  the  nearest 
departmental  office  of  the  Assistance  Publique. 
He  told  his  story,  but  as  soon  as  he  mentioned 
the  address  he  found  that  it  was  all  too  well 
known  there.  The  child  was  trained  to  keep  a 
watch  upon  the  staircase,  and,  whenever  he  saw 
a  well-dressed  man  coming  up,  to  ask  for  a  piece 
ol  bread  ! 

As    for    the    wretched    children    we    have  all 


BEGGARLAND    UNMASKED. 


i47 


seen  in  the  streets,  there  are  establishments 
in  the  Rue  Marcadet,  the  Passage  Bouchardy, 
the  Rue  de  la  Vieille  Estrapade,  and  other  places, 
where  miserable-looking  children  may  be  hired 
for  thirty  sous  (a  shilling  and  a  penny)  daily,  on 
the  understanding  that  they  will  be  exchanged  if 
anything  happens  to  them  !  In  many  cases 
these  poor  little  babies  are  drugged  with 
laudanum,  or  with  a  decoction  of  absinthe 
and  syrup,  which  keeps  them  asleep  during  the 


inquiries  made  to  her,  hunted  about  for  some- 
thing she  had  lost,  her  mass  book  and  her 
chaplet.  She  told  the  people  that  she  was  a 
widow  and  had  come  to  pray  for  the  welfare  of 
her  son,  a  soldier  upon  foreign  service.  She 
was  bitterly  poor  and  literally  dying  of  starva- 
tion. A  collection  was  made,  which  brought  in 
fifteen  francs,  and  in  the  course  of  the  next 
three  weeks  the  same  woman  fell  into  the 
fountain  in  the  Champs  Elysees  on  her  way  to 


'  LA    PETITE 


SUCCESSFUL    CHILD    BEGGAR    WHO    HAS    HAD    NUMBERLESS 
From  a  Photo. 


BLIND    FATHERS. 


greater  part  of  the  day.     Children  with  deformi- 
ties or  diseases  of  any  kind  fetch  higher  prices. 

Many,  if  not  most,  of  the  culs-de-jatte  in  Paris 
have  been  trained  to  their  trade  from  infancy, 
and  their  deformities  are  in  many  cases  brought 
about  artificially.  As  for  the  tricks  to  draw 
money  from  the  charitable  in  the  streets,  these 
are  innumerable.  Not  long  ago  on  a  Sunday 
morning  a  woman  dressed  in  black  fell  fainting 
into  the  fountain  outside  the  church  of  St. 
Honore  d'Eylau,  on  the  Place  Victor  Hugo. 
She  was  succoured  by  the  people  coming  out  of 
church,    but,    instead   of    answering   the    many 


the  Madeleine,  and  into  two  other  fountains  in 
different  parts  of  Paris.  Her  name  was  Louise 
Buffet,  and  she  is  now  in  prison. 

As  a  general  rule  three  out  of  every  four 
beggars  in  Paris  are  frauds,  and  even  through 
charitable  societies  it  is  unsafe  to  give  them 
help,  for  soup  tickets,  bread  tickets,  tickets  for 
artificial  limbs  and  similar  things  find  a  read) 
sale,  and  the  charity  of  the  public  is  used  to 
find  a  living  for  hundreds  of  ingenious  impostors, 
who,  while  too  lazy  to  do  legitimate  work,  will 
spare  themselves  no  pains  or  ingenuity  to  collect 
funds  by  fraud. 


The  Stone  of  Semarika. 

By  Allen  Upward. 

While  making  an   official  tour  through   the  Province  of    Kabba,  Nigeria,  of   which  he  was 
Resident,  the   author   heard   of  the    misdeeds  of  the  "  People  of   the  Stone "—  the  dwellers 
on  an  almost    inaccessible    mountain  called  Semarika.     Mr.   Upward    describes    what    hap- 
pened when  he  scaled  the  rock  to  punish  the  evil-doers. 


HAD  been  marching  for  a  fortnight 
through  the  Province  of  Kabba,  of 
which  I  was  Resident,  on  an  expe- 
dition— half  military,  half  judicial — 
undertaken  to  manifest  the  power 
of  the  white  man,  to  establish  confidence  and 
security,  to  punish  crime,  and  to  encourage  the 
natives  in  the  arts  of  peace. 

The  region  into  which  I  had  come,  the 
Kukuruku  Highlands,  was  the  most  savage 
corner  of  the  province,  and  one  of  the  most 
savage  corners  of  Africa.  Although  officially 
reckoned  as  a  part  of  the  British  Empire, 
subject  to  the  authority  of  His  Majesty  King 
Edward  VII.,  there  were  parts  of  it  which  had 
never  been  explored,  much 
less  subdued.  The  Kukuruku 
tribes  had  an  evil  reputation. 
They  were  known  to  be  ad- 
dicted to  the  use  of  poisoned 
arrows  and  the  practice  of 
human  sacrifices.  They  were 
very  fierce,  and  disposed  to 
regard  the  white  man  as  an 
enemy. 

As  Resident  of  the  pro- 
vince I  was  invested  with 
very  wide  powers.  I  was  at 
once  governor,  under  the 
authority  of  the  High  Com- 
missioner of  Northern  Nige- 
ria, and  judge,  with  a  juris- 
diction resembling  that  of 
an  English  judge  of  assize. 
My  instructions  were  to  estab- 
lish our  general  authority 
among  the  natives,  while 
allowing  them,  as  far  as  pos- 
sible, to  remain  under  their 
own  chiefs  and  in  the  free 
exercise  of  their  own  laws  and  customs,  so  far 
as  they  did  not  come  into  conflict  with  human- 
ity and  civilization.  Murder,  slave-raiding,  and 
highway  robbery  I  had  to  put  down. 

On  my  first  arrival  in  the  province  the  officer 
commanding  at  Lokoja  had  proposed  to  take  a 
column  of  two  hundred  men  and  come  with  me 
to  "break"  the  country  in  military  style.     But 


MR.    AM  EN    I.'HWARI 

From  a  Photo,  by 


he  had  been  obliged  to  go  with  the  greater  part 
of  the  battalion  under  his  command  on  an 
expedition  in  another  part  of  the  Protectorate. 
When  I  was  ready  to  start  on  my  tour  the 
officer  left  in  charge  at  Lokoja  told  me  he  could 
only  spare  me  thirty-five  men,  most  of  them 
young  recruits,  with  a  white  non-commissioned 
officer. 

Some  efforts  were  made  to  dissuade  me  from 
venturing  among  the  Kukurukus  with  this  small 
escort,  and  alarming  pictures  were  drawn  of  the 
tortures  practised  by  the  natives  on  such  white 
men  as  fell  into  their  power.  One  of  their 
favourite  methods,  I  was  informed,  was  to  fasten 
a  victim  down  on  a  nest  of  white  ants,  to  be 
eaten  alive  !  This  grisly  fate 
was  said  to  have  overtaken 
certain  English  prisoners  at 
the  hands  of  the  Ashantis. 

At  the  last  moment,  how- 
ever, a  white  officer  was  al- 
lowed to  volunteer  for  the 
service.  Lieutenant  Kins- 
man, who  had  just  come  from 
India  in  the  hope  of  seeing 
active  service  on  the  Cross 
River  expedition,  accepted 
the  opportunity,  and  came  in 
command  of  the  escort.  I 
could  not  have  had  an  abler 
and  more  loyal  coadjutor,  and 
during  the  weeks  we  passed 
together  we  worked  in  per- 
fect harmony. 

We  had  been  a  fortnight 
on  the  march,  and  I  was 
beginning  to  feel  tired.  Ten 
or  fifteen    miles   a   day  on   a 


),    THE    AUTHOI. 

Elliott  &°  Fry. 


exhausting 


than 


stubborn  African  horse,  under 
a  fierce  African 
it    may   sound. 


And  I  had 
not  been  merely  marching.  Wherever  I  had 
come  I  had  had  to  hold  my  court  to  inquire 
into  grievances,  to  confirm  or  to  depose 
chiefs,  to  try  offenders,  to  instruct  the 
natives  in  our  views,  to  encourage  cultivation, 
distribute  cotton-seed,  note  down  the  features 
of  the  country,  and  generally  perform  the  duties 


THE    STONE    OF    SEMARIKA. 


149 


of  governor,   judge,    missionary,    explorer,  and 
statistician  all  in  one. 

I  had  worked  at  high  pressure,  Sundays  as 
well  as  week-days,  and  was  looking  forward  to  a 
day's  rest.  We  were  making  for  Igarra,  a 
friendly  town,  whose  King  was  reported  to  have 
sent  a  force  to  the  assistance  of  our  troops  some 
time  before  in  a  fight  with  the  people  of  a  tribe 
I  had  just  visited  and  subdued.  At  Igarra  I 
had  promised  Lieutenant  Kinsman  a  holiday  for 
himself  and  his  men. 

Nobody,  not  even  the  guides,  knew  quite 
where  Igarra  was.  We  were  groping  about  in 
unknown  Africa,  looking  for  towns  that  hid 
themselves  among  the  folds  of  the  hills  like  eggs 
in  hay.  We  crawled  across  a  misty  plain,  over- 
grown with  stunted  trees,  forded  a  palm-grown 
river,  lost  ourselves  in  a  wood  bright  with  blue 
copper  butterflies,  found  ourselves  climbing 
a   path    like   the   dry    bed  of  a  waterfall,  and 


'along  such  a  path  straggled  the  variegated  line. 


suddenly  came  face  to  face  with  a  white-capped 
King  in  a  pink  robe,  a  character  cut  out  of  a 
story-book. 

In  the  primitive  theology  of  his  tribesmen 
this  immemorial  figure  was  credited  with  power 
over  Nature  and  divine  sanctity.  It  was 
not  always  easy  to  reconcile  such  claims  with 
the  "Instructions  to  Residents";  but  if  the 
ways  of  this  remote  Commander  of  the  Faithful 
were  not  too  gross  an  affront  on  the  moralities 
of  Downing  Street  and  Fleet  Street  I  gave  him 
a  "  book " — that  is  to  say,  a  written  paper 
recognising  him  as  a  chief  of  the  fourth  class. 
This  "book"  was  the  white  judge's  magic,  a 
very  much  prized  authority,  no  doubt  confer- 
ring power  to  work  miracles  up  to  the  value  of 
fifty  thousand  cowries. 

All  Africa  is  covered  with  a  net  of  narrow 
pathways,  trodden  by  the  small  traders  who  go 
from  village  to  village  through  the  bush,  carry- 
ing their  wares  on  their 
heads.  Along  such  a 
path  straggled  the  varie- 
gated line  of  khaki-clad 
Hausa  soldiers,  red-robed 
Kukuruku  captives, 
Christian  servants  in  the 
cast-off  clothes  of  Europe, 
Pagan  carriers  in  the  rags 
of  Africa,  guides,  inter- 
preters, and  volunteers 
following  in  search  of 
excitement  from  the 
places  through  which  we 
had  passed. 

Towards  noon  the  mot- 
lev  column  wound  its  way 
round  the  base  of  a  high, 
steep  hill  that  looked  like 
an  immense  cairn  of  Brob- 
dingnagian  stones.    Dwarf 
palm  trees  had  contrived 
to  sow  themselves   in   the 
crevices  between  the  big 
brown   rocks,   and  higher 
up  there  nestled  the  round  straw 
roofs  of  native  huts,  concealing 
themselves  from  the  eye  of  the 
man-hunter    passing    below,    as 
certain    butterflies    are   said    to 
protect    themselves    from    their 
enemies    by    their   sameness  of 
colour  with  their  surroundings. 
So  perfect  was  the  deception  that  when 
the    interpreter     pointed     up    and    said 
"  Igarra,"  it  took   me  a  little  time  to  con- 
vince myself  that  a  large  village  was  cling- 
ing over  the  summit  of  the  hill. 

A  minute  afterwards,   leaping  my  horse 


*5° 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


across  a  narrow  gully,  and  scrambling  through 
the  fringe  of  shrubs  along  the  farther  bank,  I  saw 
before  me,  facing  Igarra  like  a  twin  pillar,  across 
the  entrance  of  a  valley,  a  mountain  hewn  in 
wonderland. 

A  single  superb  rock,   in    the   shape   of 


an 


The  Christian  interpreter  —  whose  brother 
preached  in  the  cathedral  at  Sierra  Leone — 
lowered  his  voice  as  he  named  it  to  me : — 

"  The  Stone  of  Semarika  !  " 

Over  some  thousands  of  square  miles  in  my 
province  I  had  found  the  word  "  stone  "  used 


THE    STONE   OF    SEMARIKA 


enormous  boulder  with  vast  flanks  smooth  and 
round  as  a  flint  pebble,  reared  its  back  a 
thousand  or  two  thousand  feet  into  the  air.  It 
bore  two  giant  humps  that  gave  to  the  whole 
mass  the  likeness  of  a  monstrous  dromedary 
of  stone,  crouched  at  the  valley  mouth  like  the 
winged  and  bearded  bulls  that  guarded  Nimrod's 
tomb  in  Babylon.  A  thin  wreath  of  cloud — a 
most  unusual  sight  in  that  land — floated  round 
the  nearer  of  the  two  great  hummocks  and  gave 
to  the  whole  scene  a  touch  of  mystery  and 
unknown  awe. 


by  the  interpreter  in  rendering  the  native  name 
of  the  grand  rocks  that  rose,  often  in  weird 
loneliness,  from  a  nearly  flat  landscape.  Most 
of  these  stones  were  juju,  the  objects  of  a  cult 
carefully  hidden  from  the  white  man's  scrutiny. 
But  the  Stone  of  Semarika  had  a  darker 
reputation  than  any.  On  a  list  which  I  had 
had  drawn  up  for  me  of  all  the  places  in  the 
province  concerning  which  evil  reports  had 
come  to  Lokoja  appeared  a  name  which  my 
Assistant  had  spelt  Semoluku,  with  the  grim 
entry,  "  Human  sacrifices." 


THE    STONE    OF    SEMARIKA. 


*5i 


As  we  turned  into  the  gorge  and  pitched  our 
camp  at  the  foot  of  the  ascent  to  Igarra  I  was 
aware  of  a  certain  thrill,  half  of  fear,  half  of 
expectation,  among  my  followers.  Many  of  the 
chiefs  through  whose  borders  we  had  passed 
had  sent  a  son  or  a  brother  to  join  the  train  of 
the  white  judge,  partly  as  spies  and  partly  as 
an  act  of  homage.  Counting  the  captives,  there 
were  enough  kings  and  sub-kings  in  the  camp 
to  hold  a  durbar.  And  all  of  them,  no  doubt, 
were  watching  and  wondering  how  it  would  fare 
with  Semarika. 

Now,  I  did  not  want  to  be  troubled  with 
Semarika.  I  had  not  known  that  we  were  any- 
where near  it.  I  was  very  tired,  with  that  tired- 
ness which  becomes  chronic  after  a  short  time 
in  the  malaria-land.  I  had  done  all  the  hard 
work  I  meant  to  do ;  we  were  taking  the 
shortest  way  back  to  Lokoja,  and  I  had  been 
looking  forward  to  a  day's  rest  in  the  friendly 
town  of  Igarra,  after  the  exciting  time  of  the 
last  week  or  so. 

During  the  hot  hours  of  the  day  I  sat  in  the 
doorway  of  my  green  tent,  gazing  on  the  mighty 
stone.  The  grey,  naked  shoulder,  up  which  it 
seemed  as  though  nothing  without  wings  could 
pass,  threw  a  sombre  shadow,  like  a  spell,  across 
the  vale.  On  high  the  thin,  snaky  cloud  brooded 
above  the  hidden  eyrie  of  the  manslayers,  as  if 
it  were  the  legendary  horror  of  the  spot  made 
visible. 

Towards  sunset  I  held  my  savage  durbar. 
The  aged,  weazened  King  of  Igarra  crept  down 
from  his  hill,  leaning  on  a  curiously-patterned 
brazen  sceptre,  and  fanned  with  leopard-skin 
fans  by  his  wives,  to  lay  his  complaint  against 
the  People  of  the  Stone.  The  young  King  of 
Okpe,  with  the  perfect  Greek  features  of  an 
Antinous,  rode  in  from  ten  miles  away  to  tell  a 
like  tale.  When  he  dismounted  from  his  horse 
his  followers  held  him  up  on  their  shoulders, 
lest  his  feet  should  touch  the  soil  and  consecrate 
it.  Other  witnesses  gave  accounts  of  outrages 
done  upon  their  people,  of  raids  against  peaceful 
villages,  of  children  torn  from  their  mothers' 
arms,  of  harmless  travellers  waylaid  and  murdered 
on  the  highways,  and  peasants  slaughtered  as 
they  dug  in  the  fields.  It  was  a  reign  of  terror 
like  that  of  the  Doones  of  Bagsworthy. 

One  grim  figure  stood  out  in  all  these  tales  of 
wrongdoing,  that  of  a  leader  called  by  my  inter- 
preter the  "  Balogun."  The  Kukurukus  are  still 
living  in  the  age  of  the  Book  of  Samuel,  and 
the  Balogun  meant  "the  captain  of  the  host." 
The  King  of  Semarika,  I  learned,  was  a  young 
man,  who  was  not  evilly-disposed,  and  who  had 
treated  the  old  King  of  Igarra  with  some  con- 
sideration. But  he  lay  under  the  fear  of  his 
Balogun,    whose   followers   lorded  it  over    the 


town    on    the    top    of    the    great   stone.      This 
ruffian   took  on    the    features    of   one  of   t! 
monsters  whose  memory  still  haunts  the  nursen, 
the  ogres  and  giants  who  in  days  Ion-  gone  by 
prowled  the  British  forests  as  this   man   prow 
the  bush  for  miles  round  Semarika.     He  can 
a    machete — a  weapon    like    a    huge    butcher's 
knife — with  which  he    smote   off  the   heads  ol 
his  victims  ;  and  it  was  his  boast  that  he  never 
had  to  take  more  than  one  blow. 

The  stronghold  of  the  manslayers  was  only  to 
be  reached  by  a  steep  and  almost  inaccessible 
approach.  Five  of  our  small  force  had  been 
sent  on  with  a  batch  of  prisoners,  and  we  were 
already  encumbered  with  others.  I  dispatched 
a  messenger  to  bid  the  King  of  Semarika  attend 
me  in  the  camp. 

He  returned  empty-handed.  "The  King 
says  that  God  will  never  require  him  to  look  on 
the  face  of  a  white  man,"  the  interpreter 
explained. 

"Why  does  he  say  that?"  I  asked,  idly 
wondering  what  meaning  had  been  rendered 
by  the  word  "God." 

The  interpreter  told  me  it  was  a  firm  belief 
that  Semarika  was  impregnable.  Four  previous 
white  men,  it  appeared — officers  of  the  Niger 
Company  or  predecessors  of  my  own  —  had 
passed  that  way  before,  but  had  not  attempted 
to  go  up  against  the  city  set  upon  a  hill. 

On  hearing  this  I  took  Lieutenant  Kinsman 
aside  and  asked  him  if  he  would  take  me  into 
the  place.  He  was,  of  course,  the  judge  of  what 
might  be  attempted  with  the  small  force  at  his 
disposal,  and  was  responsible  for  my  personal 
safety;  and  many  officers  in  his  position  would 
have  refused  the  enterprise  and  declared  it  was 
one  for  a  regular  military  expedition.  But 
Lieutenant  Kinsman  was  an  officer  of  a  different 
stamp,  and  I  think  our  experiences  so  far  had 
inspired  us  with  mutual  confidence  and  had 
infused  the  same  spirit  into  the  men. 

The  lieutenant  agreed  to  take  me  up  the 
following  morning.  The  arrangements  were 
made  with  secrecy.  Twenty  men  were  picked 
out  by  the  sergeant-major  and  warned  for  duty  ; 
the  other  ten  were  to  remain  below  and  guard 
the  camp  and  the  prisoners.  I  allowed  my 
cook,  who  had  shown  some  pluck  on  the  march. 
to  come  with  me,  and  we  were  also  accom- 
panied by  some  loeal  guides  and  interprel 
by  the  son  of  the  King  of  Igarra,  and  by  one  or 
two  of  the  volunteers.  The  young  King  of 
Okpe"  had  fled  home,  firmly  believing  that  he 
had  seen  the  last  of  us. 

We  left  camp  at.  dawn,  after  a  hasty  cup 
of  tea,  and  marched  up  the  valley  between 
Semarika  and  Igarra,  along  a  narrow  path 
through  a  jungle  of   bamboo  and    high   e 


l52 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


I    WAS    LITERALLY    DRAGGED    UP   THE   GREATER    PART   OF    THE    ASCENT. 


By  seven  o'clock  we  had  come  to  the  foot  of 
a  cleft  in  the  side  of  the  mountain,  filled  up 
with  loose  rocks  and  stones,  forming  a  Cyclopean 
ladder,  which  reminded  me  of  the  ruined  stair- 
way of  a  Norman  keep. 

Here  I  had  to  exchange  my  English  boots 
for  a  pair  of  soft  red-leather  riding-boots,  with 
rough  goat-skin  soles,  made  for  me  in  Lokoja. 
I  am  a  bad  climber,  and  I  was  literally  dragged 
up  the  greater  part  of  the  ascent  by  three 
assistants.  Before  the  summit  was  reached 
Lieutenant  Kinsman  was  also  going  in  his 
socks  ;  and  when  we  came  to  a  slippery  path 
that  zigzagged  across  the  smooth  slope  of 
the  stone  I  was  gratified  by  the  sight  of  my 
younger  comrade  in  the  grasp  of  two  barefooted 
supporters. 

The  sweat  was  falling  from  our  foreheads 
when  we  gained  a  shelf  from  which  the  crest  of 
the  main  stone — the  back  of  the  dromedary — 
was  fairly  in  sight.  Here  the  lieutenant  alarmed 
me  slightly  by  telling  off  two  men  to  keep  close 
beside  me  and  answer  for  my  life.     Just  after- 


wards a  shout  came  from  the 
foremost  files.  On  a  narrow 
ledge  skirting  a  cliff  which  jutted 
out  across  a  ravine  to  the  right 
they  had  caught  sight  of  a  few 
armed  men,  the  outposts  of  the 
People  of  the  Stone.  These 
sentinels  were  armed  with  Dane 
guns  —  long  -  barrelled  muzzle- 
loaders,  with  flint  locks,  bound 
with  straw  and  bedecked  with 
cowrie-shells  as  charms,  a  great 
improvement  on  poisoned  arrows 
from  the  white  man's  point  of  view. 
The  Semarikans  fled  on  being 
discoveied,  and  the  march  was 
resumed.  In  about  three  hours 
from  leaving  camp  we  found 
ourselves  on  the  level  summit  of 
the  stone,  with  some  houses 
coming  into  sight  round  the 
corner  of  one  of  the  great 
humps  which  towered  farther 
aloft.  Here  a  cry  of  horror 
from  some  of  the  black  followers 
drew  my  eye  to  a  broad  rock  slab 
stained  with  black,  grisly  stains. 
The  interpreter  explained  with 
a  shudder.  This  was  where  the 
People  of  the  Stone  slew  their 
sacrificial  victims,  and  cast  their 
bodies  down  the  mountain. 

As  we  advanced  through  some 
tiny  garden  plots,  sown  with 
cassava,  to  the  entrance  of  the 
town,  we  found  the  whole  place 
deserted.  Every  living  thing  in  Semarika  had 
taken  refuge  on  the  heights  above,  where  the 
red-walled  houses  of  the  chiefs,  perched  on  rocky 
cornices,  formed  strongholds  really  impregnable 
to  all  but  artillery — or  bluff. 

The  first  sight  that  met  my  eye  as  we  marched 
in  was  a  juju  house,  adorned  with  three  human 
skulls.  I  ordered  them  to  be  taken  down  and 
brought  after  me.  (One  is  in  my  possession 
now.)  In  the  empty  market-place  I  sat  down 
and  sent  a  messenger  for  the  King. 

The  first  response  to  the  summons  was  a  pro- 
cession of  women  and  boys,  who  clambered  down 
the  rock  carrying  water  in  brown  calabashes  and 
earthen  pitchers.  At  first  I  stared,  then  it 
dawned  on  me  that  their  spies  had  told  the 
People  of  the  Stone  that  wherever  the  white 
judge  had  come  his  first  demand  had  been  for 
water  for  his  men.  The  water  was  a  propitiation, 
and  I  was  able  to  take  the  measure  of  the 
Semarikans. 

Still  the  King  did  not  appear  ;  only  a  curious, 
excited  crowd  showed  itself  on  a  plateau  j  ust  above. 


THE    STONE    OF    SEMARIKA. 


i53 


tell  the   King  that 
at   once 


I   shall 


go 


if  he  does  not 
up  and  fetch 


"  Go  and 
come  down 
him." 

A  clamour  was  heard  above,  the  lowering 
mass  of  savages  parted  in  the  midst,  and  a 
figure,  glorious  in  a  robe  of  bright  red  and 
yellow  silk,  showed  up  against  the  dark  back- 
ground like  a  tulip  against  a  bed  of  earth. 

Lieutenant  Kinsman  promptly  lined  the 
approach  to  the  market-place  with  a  row  of  men 
with  fixed  bayonets  to  keep  off  the  crowd. 

"  Let  only  the  King  through,"  he  ordered. 

"  I  should  like  to  have  the  Balogun  as  well," 
I  amended,  quietly. 

The  crowd  pressing  against  the  hedge  of 
bayonets  parted  again  as  my  words  were 
interpreted,  and  a  giant  in  bodily  presence, 
with  the  shoulders  of  a  Samson,  thrust  himself 
forward,  a  self-satisfied  smile  on  his  cruel 
mouth.  I  believe  he  took  the  order  for  his 
admission  as  an  honour. 

I  was  conscious  of  a  passing  touch  of  com- 
punction as  I 


not  changed  their  ways,  I  shall  come  again,  and 
I  shall  take  you  all  away  from  here  and  make 
you  live  in  some  distant  place." 

Then  I  looked  at  the  Balogun. 

"Tell  the  King  that  in  order  to  give  him  a 
better  chance  of  bringing  his  people  into  good 
ways  I  am  going  to  take  away  this  man." 

The  confident  smile  trickled  off  the  lips  of 
th-  truculent  giant.      I  said  to  him  : — 

"  I  hear  you  are  a  robber.  I  hear  you  are  a 
murderer.  I  hear  you  go  out  on  the  highway 
and  cut  off  men's  heads." 

He  protested  sullenly  and  defiantly  that  I 
had  been  misinformed. 

"  Look  what  I  have  found  in  your  town,"  I 
retorted.  And  at  a  signal  from  me  the  three 
skulls  were  cast  down  between  me  and  the 
prisoner. 

The  Balogun  went  ashen  grey,  not  so  much 
from  a  sense  of  guilt,  I  think,  as  from  fear  of 
the  magic  power  of  the  skulls,  which  he 
believed  I  had  turned  against  him. 


savage 


marked  this 

strutting   in 

I  spoke  first 


mighty 

to  his  doom. 

to  the  King. 

Everything  I  said  had 
to  be  turned  by  my  own 
interpreter  from  English 
into  Hausa,  by  another 
from  Hausa  into  Igarra, 
and  by  the  King  of 
Igarra's  son  into  the 
peculiar  speech  of  the 
People  of  the  Stone. 

"  I  hear  that  your  psople 
are  bad  people,  but  I  hear 
that  you  are  a  young  man, 
and  that  you  are  not  the 
most  to  blame.  The  King 
of  Igarra  has  spoken  to  me 
on  your  behalf.  I  am  not 
going  to  do  anything  to 
you  this  time,  if  you  under- 
take to  do  what  I  tell  you. 
You  are  to  take  the  advice 
of  the  King  of  Igarra,  and 
your  people  are  to  put  a 
stop  to  their  murders  and 
robberies." 

The  young  man  in  the 
tulip  robe  vowed  eternal 
gratitude  to  the  white  judge 
and  the  King  of  Igarra. 
The  son  of  the  King  of 
Igarra  offered  to  go  surety 
for  the  King  of  Semarika. 

"  If,  after  I  have  gone,  I 

hear  that  your  people  have 
Vol.  xiv.— 20. 


1  LOOK    U'H 


AT    1    HAVE    FOUND    IN    YOUR   TOWN,'    I    RETORTED. 


154 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


I  gave  the  order  for  his  arrest,  taking  my 
loaded  revolver  from  my  belt  at'  the  same 
moment. 

A  fierce  snarl  burst  from  the  dismayed  crowd 
as  two  soldiers  closed  up  to  the  popular 
champion  and  began  to  make  fast  his  hands. 
The  Balogun  shouted  to  his  friends,  and  there 
was  an  ugly  rush  to  get  through  the  line  of 
soldiers.  Lieutenant  Kinsman  was  only  just  in 
time  to  clap  his  revolver  to  the  head  of  a  burly 
savage,  hardly  less  formidable-looking  than  the 
Balogun  himself,  who  was  heading  the  onset. 

"  If  one  man  breaks  through  the  prisoner 
will  be  shot  dead  instantly,"  I  called  out. 

The  Balogun  fell  silent  the  moment  my 
order  was  repeated  by  the  interpreters.  Lieu- 
tenant Kinsman's  energetic  action  was  also 
having  its  effect  on  the  mob.  But,  perhaps, 
what  really  saved  us  from  trouble  was  the 
remarkable  behaviour  of  the  King. 

At  the  order  for  the  Balogun's  arrest  the  young 
man  had  flung  himself  at  my  feet,  literally  roll- 
ing himself  in  all  his  silken  splendour  over  and 
over  in  the  dust,  to  implore  mercy  for  the 
accused.  Then,  at  the  first  symptoms  of  a 
rescue,  he  had  sprung  up  and  rushed  to  the  aid 
of  the  lieutenant,  urging  and  threatening  and 
even  thrusting  back  the  crowd  with  his  own 
hands.  As  soon  as  they  gave  way  he  darted 
back  and  grovelled  on  the  earth  before  me 
again  ;  and  so  he  kept  on,  alternately  restraining 
his  people  and  beseeching  me.  It  was  a  superb 
piece  of  acting,  and  I  could  not  help  admiring 
it  in  the  midst  of  my  distractions.  I  felt  sure 
that  the  King's  distress  was  feigned  in  order  to 
please  the  Balogun's  party  in  the  town.  His 
real  feelings  towards  his  formidable  subject 
were  probably  hatred  and  fear. 

At  length  the  people  were  made  to  under- 
stand that  I  was  going  to  try  the  prisoner,  and 
they  quieted  down.  I  took  out  my  court-book, 
and  with  one  hand  still  holding  my  revolver  I 
wrote  down  the  formal  heading,  "In  the 
Provincial  Court  of  Kabba,  holden  at 
Semarika."  Then  I  proceeded  to  record  the 
evidence,  knowing,  as  I  sat  there  in  the  man- 
slayers'  eyrie  high  up  on  the  great  stone  in  the 
heart  of  savage  Africa,  with  a  score  of  Hausas 
holding  back  the  raging  savages,  that  every  word 
I  wrote  would  be  read  over  with  conscientious 
care  in  a  quiet  room  overlooking  St.  James's 
Park.  Professional  instinct  is  strong,  and  per- 
haps I  felt  a  touch  of  pride  in  thinking  that  I 
had  observed  every  form  of  the  Old  Bailey,  and 
that  no  flaw  could  be  found  in  the  record. 

It  so  happened  that  among  the  witnesses  who 
had  followed  me  up  to  the  town  there  was  not 
one  who  could  depose  to  an  act  of  murder  by 
the  man  who  stood  at  the  bar.     The  evidence 


only  warranted  a  conviction  for  slave-raiding, 
and  I  sentenced  the  prisoner  to  ten  years'  penal 
servitude.  I  was  disappointed  a.  the  time,  but 
I  have  since  thought  it  fortunate.  A  sentence 
of  death  at  that  juncture  might  have  provoked 
serious  consequences. 

Then  the  interpreter  made  a  communication. 
There  were  captives  imprisoned  in  the  Balogun's 
house  higher  up,  and  their  friends  wanted  me 
to  set  them  free. 

I  did  not  much  relish  this  further  experiment 
on  the  patience  of  the  Semarikans,  but  I  saw  no 
help  for  it.  A  fresh  clamour  burst  forth  as 
soon  as  the  People  of  the  Stone  understood 
what  I  was  going  to  do.  But  the  tulip-robed 
King  once  more  exerted  himself,  and  kept  close 
beside  me  as  we  forced  a  lane  through  the 
scowling  throng. 

Scrambling  over  rocks,  turning  narrow  corners, 
thrusting  aside  fresh  groups  of  townsmen,  who 
cursed  us  as  we  passed,  scaling  quaint  ladders, 
on  the  pattern  of  the  climbing  pole  in  a  bear- 
pit,  we  at  length  found  ourselves  before  a  round, 
red-walled  house,  two  stories  high,  built  in  a 
style  of  architecture  like  nothing  I  had  come 
across  elsewhere.  A  narrow  corridor  ran  round 
inside  the  outer  wall,  and  from  it  narrow  door- 
ways opened  into  small  rooms,  from  which  other 
doorways  led  into  a  round  yard  in  the  centre. 

Through  this  burrow  the  soldiers  and  hangers- 
on  ran  to  and  fro,  seizing  Dane  guns  and  spears 
and  bows  and  poisoned  arrows,  a  form  of  loot 
which  I  did  not  feel  called  upon  to  check,  since 
it  was  partly  a  measure  of  precaution.  But  the 
captives  were  nowhere  to  be  found. 

Someone  gave  the  explanation  to  my 
interpreter. 

"  This  is  not  the  Balogun's  house.  The 
King  has  brought  you  to  his  own  house 
instead." 

I  supposed  the  poor  King  had  done  this  to 
propitiate  the  Balogun's  party,  but  the  real 
reason  was  more  gruesome. 

We  all  dashed  out  of  the  building  and  found 
our  way  to  another,  this  time  square-built, 
filling  a  natural  chamber  in  the  cliff.  I  ordered 
someone  to  shout  out :  "  The  white  man  has 
come  to  free  the  captives  of  the  Balogun." 

Three  girls  with  pretty  Jewish  features  were 
among  those  who  responded  to  the  call.  They 
were  the  daughters  of  the  old  King  of  Igarra, 
someone  said.  The  interior  of  the  house 
seemed  strangely  silent  and  deserted,  and  the 
young  King  took  particular  pains  to  satisfy  me 
that  there  was  nothing  concealed.  From  one 
small  door  that  I  lifted  a  number  of  fowls 
fluttered  out,  and  from  another  some  goats. 
Yet  a  fierce  crowd  was  collecting  outside,  and 
beginning  to  look  dangerous. 


THE    STONE    OF    SEMARIKA. 


J55 


THEY    WERE    THE    DAUGHTERS   OF   THE   OLD    KING    OF    IGARRA. 


Lieutenant  Kinsman  presently  told  me  he 
thought  it  was  time  for  us  to  leave.  I  was  not 
at  all  inclined  to  argue  the  point  with  him. 

The  bright-rai  merited  King  followed  me  down, 
helping  me  over  the  rough  places,  and  ever  and 
anon  renewing  his  supplications  on  behalf  of 
the  Balogun.  In  the  market-place  he  rolled  in 
the  dust  for  the  last  time,  and  we  saw  him  no 
more. 

As  we  marched  out  past  the  juju  house,  I 
ordered  it  to  be  fired.  A  few  men  thereupon 
showed  themselves  on  the  roofs  of  the  adjoining 
buildings,  crying  to  the  white  judge  to  spare 
their  dwellings.  This  was  the  last  sight  we  had 
of  the  People  of  the  Stone. 

Arrived  at  the  beginning  of  the  slippery 
descent,  a  halt  was  called,  and  the  lieutenant 
and  I  shared  some  sandwiches.  A  chill  wind 
blew  over  the  summit  of  the  mountain,  making 
us  half  unwilling  to  go  down.  It  was  the  first 
time  I  had  felt  cool  since  passing  Teneriffe. 
The  three  rescued  princesses  would  not  wait  for 
us,  but  ran  down  the  slope  in  front  with  their 
arms  twined  together,  a  pleasant  sight. 


While  we  were  resting  a  startling  piece  of 
information  filtered  out  of  the  dull  interpreter. 
That  morning  the  People  of  the  Stone  had 
sacrificed  a  man  to  keep  the  white  judge  from 
entering  their  town,  and  the  newly-slain  corpse 
was  being  hastily  carried  out  of  the  Balogun's 
house  while  we  were  being  led  into  the  King's 
on  a  false  scent. 

As  our  little  troop  marched  exulting  from 
the  foot  of  Semarika  it  came  over  me  that  the 
men  deserved  some  praise.  I  asked  Lieutenant 
Kinsman's  leave,  and  when  we  reached  camp 
the  twenty  Hausas  were  drawn  up  in  line,  and  I 
thanked  their  officer  and  them  on  behalf  of 
His  Excellency  the  High  Commissioner  for 
their  coolness  and  courage  in  carrying  out  a 
service  of  some  difficulty  and  danger. 

That  afternoon  I  held  another  durbar.  As 
soon  as  I  had  shaken  off  my  carriers,  who  came 
to  tender  their  formal  congratulations — they  had 
never  expected  us  to  return  alive — the  aged 
King  of  Igarra  dragged  himself  down  his  rocks 
again  to  remind  me  that  he  had  been  the  first 
to  warn   me  against  the  People  of  the  Stone. 


156 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


The  fanning  wives  hugged  their  recovered 
daughters  and  wanted  to  kiss  my  feet. 
Also  the  handsome  young  King  of  Okpe 
hastened  over  once  more  to  offer  incense 
and  to  ask  for  several  favours,  which  Were  not 
granted. 

Then  I  had  the  Balogun  before  me  again, 
and  tried  him  on  a  fresh  charge.  For  down  in 
the  valley  a  witness  was  brought  to  me  whose 
testimony  was  like  this : — 

"  My  name  is  Omaru.  I  am  a  Hausa  from 
Bida.  I  am  a  trader.  I  was  coming  along  the 
path  outside  the  valley.  My  brother  and  his 
wife  were  with  me.  The  Balogun  met  us. 
There  were  men  with  him.  He  came  up  to  my 
brother  and  cut  off  his  head.  He  did  not  say 
anything  to  my  brother  first.  My  brother's  wife 
and  I  ran  away." 

To  which  the  prisoner  answered,  "  I  was 
there,  but  I  did  not  strike  the  blow." 

Another  witness,  a  man  of  Igarra,  told  how 
he  had  been  at  work  in  his  field  the  same  even- 
ing, and  how  he  heard  his  fellow-villagers  call 
out,  "The  Balogun  has  killed  a  man,"  and  how 
he  looked  up  and 
saw  the  Balogun 
crossing  the  little 
stream  at  a  point 
which  I  could  see 
from  where  I  sat, 
and  carrying  a 
bleeding  head  by 
the  hair.  The 
whole  scene  came 
before  me  —  the 
affrighted  v  i  1  - 
lagers  crying  out, 
the  labourer  look- 
ing up  from  his 
furrow,  and  the 
monster  stepping 
exultantly  up  the 
valley  carrying  his 
ghastly  trophy. 


I  found  him  guilty  of  wilful  murder  and  took 
him  to  Lokoja,  where  he  was  hanged. 

The  People  of  the  Stone  made  one  more  sign. 
In  the  middle  of  the  night  the  carriers,  who 
slept  outside  the  camp,  came  flocking  in  to  say 
that  mysterious  lights  had  been  seen  coming 
down  the  mountain  side,  and  Lieutenant  Kins- 
man made  his  men  stand  to  their  arms  and 
posted  additional  sentries.  But  I  did  not  feel 
justified  in  acting  on  the  clause  in  my  instruc- 
tions which  authorized  an  immediate  execution 
in  cases  of  "  urgent  danger." 

On  the  morrow,  as  I  rode  across  the  plain  at 
the  head  of  my  little  company,  I  could  not  tear 
my  eyes  from  the  majestic  shape  of  that  weird 
stone.  My  comrade  generously  told  me  that 
our  tour  had  repaid  him  for  coming  from  India, 
and  that  he  no  longer  regretted  having  missed 
the  bigger  "show  "  on  the  Cross  River,  with  its 
possibilities  of  bars  and  D.S.O.'s.  But  to 
me  our  last  adventure  stood  for  something 
more  than  an  exciting  piece  of  service.  It 
was  a  fairy-tale  come  to  life.  I  felt  I  had 
stepped   straight    out    of   the    Middle    Temple 

and  the  twentieth 
century  into  the 
shining  foreworld. 
The  language  of 
immortal  myths 
and  legends  had 
become  refreshed 
with  meaning. 
The  enchanted 
castle,  the  man- 
eating  ogre,  the 
released  princess 
were  all  there.  I 
had  come  out  to 
Africa  to  study 
living  folk-lore,  in- 
stead of  specimens 
in  books,  and  now, 
like  the  lieuten- 
ant, I  felt  repaid. 


,. 


HE   LOOKED    UP    AND   SAW    THE    BALOGUN    CROSSING   THE    LITTLE   STREAM." 


A   Modern   Robinson  Crusoe. 


By  Hervey  de  Montmorency. 

On  a  tiny  island,  far  out  in  the  lonely  Pacific,  lives  a  veritable  twentieth-century  Crusoe.     For  sixteen 

years    he  has   dwelt   there  alone    with   his   wife  and   a   faithful    "  Man    Friday,"    cultivating  the    ground, 

hunting   and    fishing,   and   occasionally  putting    in    a   little    spare   time    searching    for   the    vast    pirate 

treasure  which  is  known  to  be  buried  somewhere  on  the  island. 


OUBTS  have  been  cast  upon  the 
authenticity  of  the  history  of 
Alexander  Selkirk,  around  whose 
adventurous  career  was  woven  the 
immortal  romance  of  Robinson 
Crusoe.  But  if  Daniel  Defoe  knew  of  no 
living  model  for  his  hero,  he  was  only  anticipa- 
ting events — for  Robinson  Crusoe  is  alive 
to-day,  in  this  prosaic  twentieth  century  ! 

On  a  lonely  island  in  the  Pacific  Ocean,  three 
hundred  miles  to  the  north  of  the  Equator  and 
at  an  equal  distance  from  the  western  shore  of 
Costa  Rica,  there  dwells  a  man  who  has  passed 
sixteen  years  of  his  romantic  life  upon  this 
deserted  spot,  where  he  is  monarch  of  all  he 
surveys. 

Ships  rarely,  if  ever, 
call  at  Cocos  Island — 
for  such  is  the  name 
of  the  place  —  and  the 
rapid  decrease  in  the 
numbers  of  sailing  vessels 
upon  these  seas  makes 
visits  to  the  island  rarer 
and  rarer.  In  the  olden 
times,  before  the  days  of 
steam,  ships  were  some- 
times compelled  to  put 
in  for  water,  and,  when 
whaling  was  a  profitable 
business,  the  neighbour- 
hood of  Cocos  Island 
was  frequented  by  many 
a  high  -  pooped  barque, 
whose  mainmast,  warped 
forward  by  the  constant 
strain  of  heavy  tackles, 
marked  her  as  one  of  the 
vessels  that  chased  the 
mighty  cachalot  from  the 
Arctic    to   the    Antarctic 


seas,  pursuing  their  dangerous  calling   through 
every  season  and  in  every  latitude. 

Twice  at  least  this  modern  Alexander  Selkirk 
has  had  to  sail  to  the  mainland  on  a  boat  built 
by  himself  from  the  rough  timbers  of  trees 
felled  by  his  own  hand,  and  propelled  by  sails 
improvised  from  sheets  from  his  bed.  On  the  first 
occasion  fifty  hours  were  sufficient  for  him  to 
make  the  passage,  but  his  second  attempt 
involved  a  six  days'  voyage.  One  can  picture 
the  face  of  the  determined  man,  with  red  eyes 
straining  to  the  horizon  and  sinewy  hand 
cramped  on  the  tiller,  through  a  week  of  sleep- 
less, anxious  nights  and  days  when  the  burning 
tropical  sun   beat  down  on  his  head. 


THE    MODERN    ROBINSON    L 
From  a] 


RUSOE,    WHO    HAS    LIVED    F()K    SIXTEEN    YEARS   ON    A    REMOTE    ISLAND 
IN    THE   PACIFIC.  [P/wtO. 


'5* 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


Front  a] 


"crusoe's"  home  by  the  side  of  the  creek. 


[Photo. 


the  uplands  he  grows 
coffee,  sufficient  for  his 
own  use  and  that  of  any 
chance  vessel  which  may 
happen  to  call  at  the 
island.  He  is  a  great 
smoker,  and  the  tobacco 
which  he  raises  on  his 
farm,  dried  in  the  shadow 
of  a  corrugated  -  iron 
hut  and  twisted  into 
cigars  by  the  clever 
fingers  of  his  wife, 
satisfies  his  greatest  crav- 
ing. 

From  banana  fibre  he 
makes  rope,  and  from 
the  bark  of  a  tulip  tree, 
growing  everywhere  in 
the  island,  he  can  make 
brushes,  brooms,  and 
many  articles  of  domes- 
tic use.  The  same  tree 
provides  him  with  tannic 
acid,  which  he  uses  to 
make     ink     or    to    tan 


There  are  two  inlets  on  the  northern  coast 
of  Cocos  Island— Chatham  and  Wafer  bays. 
The  former  affords  a  better  anchorage  for 
heavy  vessels,  but  the  shore  is  forbidding  and 
inhospitable,  rising  sheer  out  of  the  water 
like  a  wall,  the  foot  of  which  is  fringed  with 
the  snowy  surf,  marking  where  the  heavy 
Pacific  rollers  lash  themselves  into  foam 
upon  the  cruel  rocks  and  coral  reefs  as 
sharp  as  needles. 

It  is  in  Wafer  Bay  that  our  Crusoe  has 
made  his  settlement,  by  the  side  of  a  charm- 
ing creek  formed  by  a  river  of  considerable 
size,  which,  flowing  from  the  lofty  sides  of 
Mount  Iglesias,  some  two  miles  inland,  has 
gathered  strength  from  many  a  bubbling 
tributary,  leaping  down  the  rough  slopes, 
dancing  like  a  joyous  living  thing,  and  spark- 
ling like  a  thousand  gems,  through  the  tangle 
of  undergrowth  of  the  virgin  forest  which 
covers  the  island,  in  some  places  so  thickly 
that  at  midday,  beneath  the  great  trees, 
bound  to  one  another  with  rope-like  creepers, 
the  traveller  imagines  himself  in  the  twilight 
of  an  English  summer  day. 

Around  his  home  is  a  plantation,  the  work 
of  his  and  his  wife's  unaided  hands,  for  this 
latter-day  Crusoe  is  a  skilful  farmer,  as  well 
as  a  ship-builder  and  navigator.  Here  he 
cultivates  bananas,  oranges,  vines,  pine- 
apples, potatoes,  yams,  maize— all  the  fruits 
and  vegetables  of  a  tropical   climate.     On 


F)om  a] 


MRS.        CRUSOE        AMI    HER    1) 


[J 'ho  to. 


A    MODERN    ROBINSON    CRUSOE. 


'59 


MEMBERS   OF    THE    AUTHORS    PA 

From 

rural   scene   in    the    Emerald 


the  hides  of  the  wild  pigs  abounding  in  the 
island,  and  the  leather  is  useful  for  many 
purposes,  not  the  least  of  which  is  the  mend- 
ing or  making  of  boots,  for  our  friend  belies 
the  saying  which  bids  the  cobbler  to  stick  to 
his  last.  Light  he  obtains  from  cocoanut  oil, 
for  there  are 
thousands  of  the 
graceful  cocoa- 
nut  palms  sway- 
ing and  bowing 
and  curtsy- 
ing along  the 
shore. 

Some  of  the 
wild  pigs  have 
been  domesti- 
cated by  this 
resourceful  man, 
and  their  homely 
grunts  in  the 
farmyard  or 
orchard  remind 
the  visitor  of  a 
Isle. 

Cocos  Island,  lying  in  the  Doldrums,  is  visited 
at  all  seasons  by  heavy  showers,  and  the  interior 
is  a  network  of  watercourses.  The  loftiest 
point  of  the  island  being  three  thousand  feet 
high  and  the  fall  to  the  sea  rapid  and  consider- 
able, the  streams  race  through  their  rocky  beds, 
now  forming  deep  pools,  now  leaping  down 
cascades  of  great  depth  as  they  wind  their  ways 
to  the  sea. 

Opposite  the  settler's  home  a  cataract,  five 
hundred  feet  in  height,  discharges  its  thunder- 
ing waters  into  a  basin  of  smooth,  shiny  rock 
of  immense  depth,  and 
whose  sides  are  as  round 
and  polished  as  though 
fashioned  by  the  hand  of  an 
artistic  workman ;  the  over- 
flow from  the  pool  forms  a 
second  waterfall  twenty  feet 
high,  at  the  foot  of  which  has 
sprung  up  a  delightfully  shady 
grove  of  palms  and  other 
trees,  some  two  acres  in  ex- 
tent ;  festoons  of  creepers 
hang  from  branch  to  branch, 
in  the  clefts  between  the 
boughs  of  the  trees  deep  red 
orchids  have  taken  root,  and 
small  yellow  birds  like  cana- 
ries hop  from  twig  to  twig, 
piping  a  note  as  sweet  as  any 
songster's. 

The   water-power  thus  fur- 
nished by  Nature   has    been 


harnessed  to  a  wheel  constructed  by  this 
pioneer  of  civilization.  With  this  he  drives  a 
saw-mill  for  cutting  planks  or  does  other  useful 
work. 

"  No  nation  can  become  great  which  has  not 
stood  in  the  jaws  of  need,"  says  Emerson,  and 

so  it  must  be 
with  individuals. 
In  the  early 
days  of  his 
occupation  of 
Cocos,  "Crusoe" 
nearly  died  of 
starvation;  his 
gun  broken  and 
his  dog  severely 
wounded  by  a 
wild  boar,  un- 
able to  kill 
game,  he  was 
reduced  to 
knocking  down 
boobies  with  a 
stick  to  eat  their  unsavoury  flesh — a  booby, 
for  those  who  have  not  heard  the  word,  is 
a  bird  very  like  a  sea-gull,  but,  judging  by 
appearances,  a  gull  might  make  better  human 
food. 

Fish  are  plentiful  around  the  shores,  and  so 
clear  is  the  water  in  the  bay  that  the  bottom  is 
visible  many  fathoms  below  the  surface,  and 
the  strangest  and  most  beautiful  creatures  can 
be  seen  darting  about  amidst  the  coral  grottoes 
— anemones,  sea-urchins,  crabs,  star-fish,  sun- 
fish,  and  devil-fish,  every  colour  and  every  shape 
being  represented. 

The  sharks  are  large  and  voracious,  and  the 


RTV    LANDING    THROUGH    THE   SURF. 
a  I'lwto. 


AFTERNOON    TEA   AT    "  CKUSOE  S       HOUSE. 


\_Plwto. 


i6o 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


giant  ray,  eighteen  feet  in  breadth,  sometimes 
makes  his  appearance  with  hideous,  gaping 
mouth  and  enormous  fins ;  hut  the  bright 
colours  of  the  fishes  do  not  compensate  for 
their  other  shortcomings  :  many  are  poisonous, 
and  those  which  are  eatable  are  very  coarse. 
Amongst  the  rocks  at  low  tide  crayfish  may  be 
caught,  and  it  was  with  these  and  the  sea-birds 
that  the  modern  Crusoe  contrived  to  keep 
body  and  soul  together  when  misfortune  befell 
him. 

In  the  year  1894  some  German  emigrants 
were  persuaded  to  try  their  hands  at  forming  a 
settlement  upon  the  island,  but  the  attempt  was 
a  failure.  The  most  absurd  difficulties  were 
created  by   the  settlers,  not   the  least  of  which 


Moreover,  Cocos  is  not  only  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  spots  in  the  world,  but  it  is  rich  in 
both  mineral  and  agricultural  potentialities. 

In  his  spare  moments  "  Robinson  Crusoe " 
has  experimented  with  certain  ores,  and  claims 
to  have  found  silver,  copper,  and  iron.  The 
Costa  Rican  Government,  to  whom  the  place 
belongs,  have  appointed  the  settler  Governor  of 
the  island,  granting  him  certain  rights  and  the 
freehold  of  half  of  Cocos.  For  a  time  convicts 
were  sent  from  the  mainland,  but  the  distance 
from  Punta  Arenas  was  too  great  for  communica- 
tion to  be  kept  up  by  the  one  gunboat  which 
forms  Costa  Rica's  Pacific  fleet,  so  they  were 
withdrawn.  •  The  President  of  the  Republic, 
however,   proposed   to    the    Governor   to   send 


From  a] 


CRUSOE       AT   WORK    IN    HER   GARDEN. 


[P/w/o. 


were  born  of  veneration  for  the  etiquette  of 
society,  and  some  Gilbertian  situations  arose, 
chiefly  amongst  the  women  folk.  The  emigrants 
were  an  idle,  incompetent  lot,  who  preferred  the 
squalid  poverty  of  a  city  to  the  freedom  of  the 
forest  and  communion  with  Nature  ;  they 
clamoured  to  be  returned  to  the  Fatherland, 
and  not  a  single  survivor  of  the  emigration 
scheme  now  remains  at  Cocos. 

The  cutting  of  the  Panama  Canal  should 
enhance  the  value  of  Cocos  Island,  for  it  lies 
midway  between  San  Francisco  and  Valparaiso, 
while  the  increase  of  shipping  and  maritime 
traffic  in  these  seas,  due  to  the  opening  of  a 
waterway  between  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific 
Oceans,  should  make  a  coaling-port  a  necessity 
in  this  neighbourhood  for  some  Great   Power. 


prisoners  to  work  under' him,  but  the  offer  was 
refused. 

Besides  its  natural  advantages,  Cocos  Island 
has,  however,  one  great  attraction  which  draws 
exploring  parties  and  adventurous  spirits  to  its 
shores.  It  was  the  spot  chosen  by  the  famous 
buccaneer,  Benito,  as  the  hiding-place  for  his  ill- 
gotten  gains  ;  of  this  there  is  no  doubt  what- 
ever, and  on  several  occasions  sums  of  money 
have  been  recovered  by  searchers.  "  Crusoe  " 
knows  where  the  bulk  of  the  treasure  lies 
hidden,  but  states  that  a  tremendous  landslide 
has  covered  the  rich  stores  of  gold  and  church 
ornaments,  so  that  to  recover  the  prize  a  large 
capital  would  be  required  and  an  expensive 
machinery  plant,  while  at  least  ten  months 
would  have  to  be  spent  in  mining  operations. 


A    MODERN    ROBINSON    CRUSOE. 


161 


THE    AUTHOR  S   PARTY    DIGGING    FOR    PIRATE   TREASURE. 

From  a  Photo. 


Benito  was  the  historical  personage  on  whom 
Captain  Marryat  modelled  his  character,  Cain, 
in  the  popular  novel,  "The  Pirate."  In  1821 
he  blew  out  his  brains  to  avoid  capture  by  the 
British  gunboat  Espiegle,  but  that  was  not 
until  he  had  made  his  name  a  terror  in  both  the 
Atlantic  and  the  Pacific  for  a  period  of  seven 
years.  He  seized  the  Mexican  treasure,  which 
was  being  removed  to  the  coast,  during  the 
troublesome  days  of  Yturbide,  and  he  sacked 
the  churches  along  the  Pacific  shore  of  South 
and  Central  America. 

On  Cocos  Island  he  had  a  desperate  fight 
with  his  second  in  command,  a  Frenchman, 
who  headed  a  party  of  malcontents.  Benito  cut 
the  Frenchman  down  and  re-established  his 
authority,  but  not  until  the  pirates'  numbers  had 
been  reduced  by  fifteen.  Some  of  the  bodies 
were  thrown  to  the  sharks,  but  none  were  buried, 
and  the  Governor  of  Cocos  sometimes  finds 
human  bones  —  grim  relics  of  that  old-time 
struggle — lying  amidst  the  undergrowth. 

The  treasure  accumulated  by  Benito  must 
have  been  enormous,  for  the  richest  spoils  of 
Mexico  and  Peru  were  constantly  being  carried 
on  the  Spanish  galleons  along  the  western  shore 
of  Spain's  American  colonies.  It  is  said  that 
Benito  had  to  throw  seven  of  his  nine  cannon 
overboard  to  enable  him  to  carry  the  gold  bars 
and  treasures  on  his  ship. 

Many  of  the  expeditions  putting  ashore  at 
Cocos  Island  have  handled  "  Crusoe's  "  property 

Vol.  xiv.— 21. 


with  scant  courtesy.  A  British  war-ship  once 
landed  a  party  of  Marines,  who  uprooted  his 
plantations  in  their  eager  search  for  treasure  ; 
they,  moreover,  threatened  with  their  bayonets 
the  wife  of  the  Governor  when  she  protested  at 
their  depredations. 

Another  party  of  adventurers  killed  the  cows 
and  chickens,  tore  down  fruit  trees,  and  im- 
ported cockroaches  from  their  dirty  ship  into 
the  dwelling-rooms  of  the  settler,  who  was 
absent  at  the  time  upon  the  mainland. 
"Crusoe"  stands  six  feet  two  inches  in  his 
socks,  and  is  powerfully  built  in  proportion, 
so  he  is  an  ugly  customer  to  tackle  single- 
handed,  but  one  man  alone  can  effect  little 
against  a  company  of  Marines  or  a  boat-load 
of  excited  treasure-hunters. 

The  picturesque  appearance  of  the  creek  in 
Wafer  Bay,  with  its  little  tin  huts  and  outhouses 
peeping  from  between  the  curtsying  palms  and 
the  swaying  banana  bushes,  tempts  the  traveller 
to  explore  the  inland  portion  of  the  island, 
and  an  expedition  into  the  interior  well  repays 
the  trouble  of  climbing  the  rugged  slopes  of  the 
cliffs,  which,  rampart-like,  guard  against  invasion. 
Progress  is  slow,  for  most  of  the  journey  must 
be  made  on  all-fours,  and  it  is  necessary  to  carry 
a  machete  to  cut  a  way  through  the  tangle  of 
creepers  and  undergrowth.  Nor  is  the  journey 
devoid  of  danger,  for  the  precipices  are  steep 
and  loose  boulders  and  slippery  stones  make  a 
precarious  loothold  ;   the  little  red  ants,  which 


l62 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


swarm  everywhere  on  the  leaves  and  bushes,  are 
a  veritable  pest,  and  their  bite  is  as  ^harp  as  a 
wasp's  sting. 

Amongst  the  trees  which  grow  inland  may  be 
recognised  the  wild  rubber,  cedars,  walnuts, 
and  ironwood,  and,  where  an  opening  in  the 
forest  allows  the  sun  to  penetrate,  graceful  ferns 
grow  in  a  tangle  of  luxuriance.  Towards  evening 
the  crickets  and  grasshoppers  commence  their 
harsh  chorus,  only  interrupted  by  the  rustling 
sound  of  a  startled  boar  who,  nimble-footed 
as  a  goat,  leaps  from  boulder  to  boulder,  crash- 
ing through  the  undergrowth,  like  some  hairy, 
reddish -yellow  whirlwind,  whisked  past  the 
astonished  eyes  of  the  traveller.  Sea-birds 
swarm  on  the  shore  or  wheel  in  graceful  circles 
high  over  the  inland  forest.  So  tame  are  they 
that  it  brings  a  blush  to  the  cheek  to  think  that 
Nature  made  her  feathered  children  friendly 
and  bold,  but  man  rejected  the  friendship  and 
taught  the  lesson  of  fear  and  hatred. 

Some  kindly  St.  Patrick  must  have  per- 
formed the  same  office  for  Cocos  which  the 
patron  saint  of  Ireland  did  for  the  Emerald  Isle, 
for  there  are  no  snakes  on  the  island,  but  there 
are  many  and  pretty  lizards. 

On  the  huge  boulders  scattered  along  the 
shores  of  Chatham  Bay  are  several  quaint  in- 
scriptions. Whalers,  pirates,  and  men-o'-war 
alike  have  vied  with  one  another  in  composing 
witty  souvenirs  of  their  visits  ;  allusions  to  the 
treasure  are  frequent.  "  The  bird  is  flown  " 
seems   the   most    favourite   writing :    this    evi- 


dently by  the   hands  of  disappointed  treasure- 
hunters. 

When  "  Crusoe  "  first  went  to  Cocos  Island 
he  found  many  traces  of  the  pirates.  Their  old 
camp  could  still  be  seen,  with  thirty-two  stone 
steps  leading  to  a  cave;  old  fireplaces,  rusty 
pots  and  arms,  and  several  empty  bottles 
marked  the  place  of  some  carouse. 

His  own  fortune  has  not  been  great  in  the 
matter  of  treasure-trove,  for  he  has  only  found 
one  gold  coin,  a  doubloon  of  the  time  of 
Charles  the  Third,  by  the  Grace  of  God  King 
of  Spain  and  Emperor  of  the  Indies,  dated 
1788. 

On  the  high  ground  above  the  usual  anchorage 
overlooking  the  bay  is  the  grave  of  Mike, 
"  Crusoe's "  boatswain  and  faithful  comrade, 
who  came  with  him  to  the  island  fifteen  or 
sixteen  years  ago.  Mike  shot  himself  by 
accident  in  trying  to  ward  off  the  charge  of  a 
wounded  pig  with  the  butt  of  his  repeating 
rifle. 

As  we  rowed  back  to  our  yacht,  after  having 
spent  some  days  with  our  strange  and  interesting 
friend,  who  showered  his  hospitality  upon  us, 
"  Crusoe,"  his  wife,  and  his  "  Man  Friday  " 
waded  into  the  sea  to  wave  us  good-bye,  the 
tears  streaming  down  their  cheeks.  There  we 
left  them,  out  of  humanity's  reach,  heedless  of 
the  busy,  whirling  world,  with  its  wars,  injustice, 
and  deceit,  to  bask  in  Nature's  smiles  and  await, 
perhaps  for  years,  the  sight  of  another  human 
face  ! 


CRUSOE  S       ISLAND. 


\.Pkoto. 


My    Shipwreck. 

Told    by   Mrs.  Westwood,  and    Set    Down    by  Mary  Farrah. 

The  exciting  experience   that   befell  a  sailor's  wife  while  making  a  voyage  with  her    husband.     As 
Mrs.   Westwood  remarks,  the  happenings  of  that  disastrous  trip  were  quite  enough   to  satisfy  any 

reasonable  woman's  thirst  for  perilous  adventure. 


j^S^Y 


HIS  adventure  happened  some  thirty 
years  ago,  when  1  had  not  long  been 
married.  My  husband  was  part 
owner  and  captain  of  a  little  coasting 
schooner,  the  Two  Brothers,  of  Hull, 
which  used  to  trade  up  and  down  the  coast 
between  London  and  various  eastern  or  north- 
eastern ports.  Her  cargoes  were  of  all  kinds, 
and  not  always  particularly  clean.  Sometimes 
she  carried  coals  to  London  and  brought  back 
bone  manure,  which,  of  course,  smelt  horribly; 
or  it  might  be  a  "clean"  cargo  of  grain  or 
machinery.  I  didn't  appreciate  very  lengthy 
partings  from  my  hus- 
band, so  occasionally, 
when  there  was  nothing 
disagreeable  about  the 
cargo,  he  would  take 
me  with  him  on  a 
summer  trip  for  four  or 
five  days  at  a  time,  and 
I  soon  got  to  be  a  first- 
rate  sailor,  and  enjoyed 
the  little  cruises  im- 
mensely. 

At  the  time  of  this 
story  I  had  gone  on 
board  the  Ttvo  Brothers 
for  one  of  these  little 
trips.  We  sailed  from 
Hull  to  Newcastle  in 
order  to  ship  a  cargo 
of  fire-bricks  and  coke 
to  carry  to  London, 
where,  so  far  as  I  was 
concerned,  the  voyage 
would  end,  for  I  was 
to  stay  a  few  days  there 
with  some  cousins,  and 
then  go  home  by  train. 
We  set  sail  from 
Newcastle  one  morn- 
ing with  a  strong  wind 

blowing  and  a  rough  sea,  but  as  it  was  still  early 
in  September,  and  we  had  been  having  splendid 
weather  for  some  time,  we  expected  at  the  most 
nothing  worse  than  a  little  delay.  But  whatever 
the  cause  may  have  been — and  I'm  not  clever 


MRS.    WESTWOOD,    WHO    RELATE 
TO   THE 

from  a  Photo. 


enough  about  such  matters  to  be  able  to  explain 
that  —  our  little  vessel  was  fated  to  encounter 
one  of  the  severest  gales  known  on  that  coast 
for  many  years. 

Long  before  noon  we  were  in  the  midst  of  it. 
The  waves  dashed  right  over  the  schooner,  and 
the  wind  shrieked  and  howled  around  us  like  a 
devouring  monster.  Of  course,  all  sail  was 
furled,  and  I  had  to  stay  down  in  our  tiny  cabin, 
where  I  sat  shivering  with  the  sudden  intense 
cold  and  with  fear  of  the  dreadful  storm. 

Occasionally  Jack,  my  husband,  would  come 
to  cheer  me  up  with  a   few  encouraging  words. 

He  was  always  one  to 
look  at  the  bright  side 
of  things,  and  he  said 
if  only  he  could  keep 
well  out  to  sea,  away 
from  the  cruel  York- 
shire coast,  he  btlieved 
the  Two  Brothers 
would  yet  weather  the 
storm. 

"If  only  you  were 
safe  at  home,  darling," 
hesaid,  more  than  once, 
"  I  should  have  no- 
thing to  trouble  about." 
And  all  that  day  and 
through  the  terrible 
night  that  followed  I 
believe  the  brave  fel- 
low's one  thought  was 
for  me  ;  he  would  have 
felt  little  or  no  anxiety 
on  his  own  account. 

All  at  once,  as  I  sat 
listening  down  below, 
there  was  a  sharp  rend- 
ing, crashing  sound, and 
the  vessel  heeled  over 
until  the  floor  of  the 
cabin  was  like  the 
side  of  a  mountain,  and  I  made  sure  we 
were  going  straight  to  the  bottom.  I  held 
on  to  my  seat  as  well  as  I  could,  but  I  was 
terribly  frightened  —  too  frightened  even  to 
scream. 


D    THE    STORY    OK     HER     SHIPWRECK 
AUTHORESS. 

by  M.    T.  Kendall. 


164 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


After  a  short  time  the  vessel  gradually  righted 
herself,  and  presently  I  heard  my  husband's 
voice  and  knew  that  he  was  coming  down  to 
find  out  what  effect  the  crash  had  had  on  my 
nerves.  At  the  first  glance  I  saw  by  his  grave 
expression  that  something  serious  was  the 
matter  and  braced  myself  to  hear  bad  news. 

"  What  is  it,  Jack  ?  "  I  asked.  "  Please  tell 
me  at  once." 

"  The  mast's  overboard,"  he  replied,  speaking 
rapidly,  as  if  every 
moment  were  pre- 
cious, "  but  that's 
not  the  worst 
trouble.  She's 
sprung  a  leak  with 
the  straining  of  the 
storm,  and  for  the 
last  hour  we've  been 
hoping  the  sea 
would  quiet  down 
enough  to  let  us 
launch  the  boat, 
but  of  course  in 
such  a  sea  as  this 
we  couldn't  keep 
afloat  two  minutes. 
Now,  don't  be 
frightened,  dear. 
There's  a  big 
schooner  close  to 
us,  and  we're  trying 
to  get  near  enough 
to  heaveyou  aboard 
her  as  we  pass. 
You  must  come 
just  as  you  are ; 
there's  no  time  to 
think  about  any- 
thing else." 

While  he  was 
speaking  he  was  all 
the  time  gently 
drawing  me  up  to 
the  deck.  Once 
there  the  roar  of 
wind  and  sea  was  so 

great  that  I  knew  it  was  no  use  my  attempting  to 
talk  or  ask  questions.  Besides,  I  didn't  want  to 
add  to  his  troubles  at  such  a  time  by  my  fears 
and  protestations.  I  had  no  hat  or  shawl  or  wrap 
of  any  description,  and  I  had  to  stand  shivering 
and  terrified  by  the  sight  of  the  mountainous 
waves  and  the  howling  of  the  gale. 

We  were  sailing  short-handed,  with  only  two 
men  on  board  besides  my  husband.  The  first 
hand  or  mate,  Tom  Hudson,  stood  ready  to 
help  in  lifting  or  throwing  me  on  to  the  strange 
ship  as  she   passed   us.     The  second  hand,  a 


HUDSON    TOLD   ME   TO   SI'RING    FORWARD    WITH    ALL    MY    MIGHT   WHEN 
THEY   GAVE   THE    WORD." 


young  fellow  called  Will  Gledhill,  was  at  the 
helm,  and,  as  even  I  could  plainly  see,  wore 
an  unmistakable  look  of  fear  on  his  anxious 
face. 

But  I  hadn't  much  chance  to  notice  anything, 
for  by  this  time  the  big  schooner  was  not  more 
than  a  dozen  yards  away.  My  husband  was 
holding  one  of  my  arms  in  a  firm  grip,  while 
Hudson  took  the  other,  and  told  me  to  spring 
forward  with   all  my  might  when   they  gave  the 

word,  trusting  to 
them  and  the 
sailors  on  the 
schooner  to  do 
the  rest. 

Half-a-dozen 
men  on  the  other 
vessel  were  lean- 
ing far  over  her 
side,  their  arms 
forming  a  sort  of 
cradle  to  catch 
me.  They  had 
understood  my 
husband's  signals, 
and  with  ready 
kindness,  unable 
to  help  us  in  any 
other  way,  had 
steered  thus  dan- 
gerously near  in 
the  attempt  to 
rescue  a  woman  in 
danger. 

My  knees  trem- 
bled under  me, 
but  I  tried  to 
nerve  myself  to 
the  thought  of 
that  d  r  e  a  dful 
spring,  though  it 
seemed  to  me  the 
schooner  would 
never  get  close 
enough  to  keep  me 
from  falling  into 
the  boiling  waves. 
In  one  way  I  was  right.  Just  as  she  swirled 
past  Hudson  looked  sharply  at  my  husband,  who 
as  quickly  shook  his  head,  muttering,  "  Not 
near  enough  by  a  yard,"  and  let  go  my  arm  with 
a  despairing  gesture.  Before  I  had  time  to 
realize  the  sudden  revulsion  of  feeling  our 
attention  was  drawn  by  a  shout  from  the  group 
of  sailors,  and  we  saw  Gledhill  as  the  big 
schooner  passed  him  make  a  flying  leap  towards 
her.  With  the  help  of  strong  arms  outstretched 
with  a  sailor's  promptitude,  he  was  landed  safely 
on  her  deck.     It  was  a  magnificent  jump,  one 


MY    SHIPWRECK. 


165 


that  I  think  only  the  madness  of  panic  could 
have  made,  for  when  the  schooner  passed  our 
stern  she  was  considerably  farther  off  than  when 
she  passed  us  standing  in  the  bows. 

"Coward!"  shouted  my  husband,  shaking 
his  fist  at  the  fast-disappearing  vessel,  and 
Hudson  used  stronger  words  still,  though  I 
couldn't  myself  blame  the  lad  overmuch  for 
trying  to  save  his  life  when  he  believed  nothing 
but  swift  death  awaited  all  those  on  board  our 
sinking  ship. 

I  told  Jack  so,  and,  putting  my  arms  round 
his  neck,  told  him  how  truly  glad  I  was,  even  in 
that  moment  of  despair,  to  stay  with  him  instead 
of  being  unwillingly  forced  on  to  the  strange 
ship,  leaving  him  to  face  death  alone.  It  was 
only  for  his  sake,  I  said,  that  I  had  consented  to 
go.  He  brightened  up  a  little  after  that,  though 
he  couldn't  long  allow  himself  to  forget  the  peril 
he  had  brought  me  into. 

By  this  time  the  waves  were  washing  continu- 
ously over  the  deck,  and  the  little  schooner  was 
plainly  settling  rapidly.  It  was  impossible  to 
launch  our  one  small  boat,  but  my  husband  and 
Hudson  dragged  it  to  the  middle  of  the  deck 
and  made  me  get  in  and  sit  in  the  stern,  while 


disappeared  within  a  few  minutes  of  passing  ib 
— just  as  if  she  had  been  swallowed  up  in  the 
waves.  I  felt  sure  she  must  have  gone  down, 
and  indeed  Jack  and  Hudson  were  inclined  to 
the  same  opinion,  though,  as  we  afterwards  dis- 
covered, we  were  mistaken. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  horror  of  sitting  in 
that  little  boat  waiting  for  the  Two  Brothers  to 
go  down  beneath  us.  The  time — perhaps  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  at  the  most — seemed  like 
years,  and  was  harder  to  bear  than  all  the  long, 
weary  night  that  followed.  I  believe  Jack  felt 
it  even  more  than  I  did,  for,  of  course,  he  knew 
so  much  better  than  I  the  difficulty  of  getting 
free  of  the  wreck,  and  the  danger  of  being 
speedily  swamped  by  the  waves  unless  the  storm 
moderated  very  soon. 

As  I  sat  there  I  prayed  silently  that  the  wind 
and  waves  might  go  down  and  enable  us  to 
keep  afloat  on  that  rough,  tumbling  sea. 

The  mate  and  my  husband  had  each  a  pair 
of  oars,  and  at  last,  when  our  tiny  craft  was  well 
afloat  above  the  submerged  deck,  Jack  gave  the 
word,  and  we  literally  rowed  off  the  sinking 
vessel  as  she  went  down  into  the  depths  of  the 
ocean.     In  a  few  minutes  more  the  last"  trace  of 


WE    LITERALLY    ROWED   OFF    THE   SINKING    VESSEL   AS   SHE   WENT    DOWN. 


Hudson  sat  in  the  bow  and  Jack  occupied  the 
middle  seat.  In  a  calm  sea  it  would  easily 
have  accommodated  four  or  five  people,  but  in 
such  a  tempest  even  one  less  was  a  mercy, 
though  we  scarcely  thought  of  that  until  after- 
wards. 

One  of  the  strangest  things  to  me  was  the 
way  in  which  the  big  schooner  had  completely 


her  had  vanished,   and  we  were  alone  in  our 
frail  boat  on  that  wide,  stormy  sea. 

I   shuddered  involuntarily  and  hid   my   face 
in    my   hands.       It  all   looked   so   much    more 
terrifying    to    me    now    we    were    so    close    to 
the    waves,    and     at     first     I    expected 
every    roller    that  bore    down    upon    us    woi 
overwhelm  us. 


i66 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


"  Heart  up,  little  woman  !  "  said  Jack,  speak- 
ing more  cheerfully  now  we  were  fairly  afloat 
and  there  was  something  he  could  do.  "The 
sea's  gone  down  wonderfully  in  the  last  quarter 
of  an  hour,  and  I  think  we  can  easily  keep  this 
cockleshell  moving  if  you'll  help  by  baling  her 
out  with  this  tin  pail." 

It  was  a  fact,  as  he  said,  that  the  waves  had 
gone  down  considerably,  and  the  gale  showed 
distinct  signs  of  abating.  When  we  first  got 
into  the  boat,  in  spite  of  all  I  could  say,  Jack 
insisted  on  taking  off  his  coat  and  making  me 
put  it  on  over  my  thin  dress.  He  now  set  me 
to  work  baling  out  with  a  small  tin  pail  the 
water  that  washed  over  the  sides.  I  was  glad 
enough,  you  may  be  sure,  of  something  to  do, 
and  after  a  while  the  exercise  put  some  degree 
of  warmth  into  my  frozen  limbs.  Jack  said  that 
his  work  at  the  oars  kept  him  warm,  but,  of 
course,  all  of  us  were  soon  soaked  to  the  skin, 
for  we  were  without  the  least  shelter  from 
the  heavy  spray  that  continually  broke  over 
us.  Sometimes  it  was  all  the  two  men  could 
do  to  keep  the  tiny  boat's  head  to  the  waves, 
for,  though  the  tumult  was  much  less  than 
before,  we  were  still  in  danger  of  instant  destruc- 
tion if  she  once  got  broadside  on  or  a  wave 
broke  over  the  gunwale.  However,  they  toiled 
on  bravely,  and  occasionally  one  of  them  took 


that  I  could  hardly  go  on  baling,  and  even  the 
stern,  white  faces  of  the  two  men  began  to  show 
signs  of  exhaustion. 

If  only  I  could  have  given  them  a  drink  or 
a  morsel  of  food  !  But  there  we  were  in  our 
little  boat,  absolutely  without  food  or  drink  of 
any  description,  and  what  we  suffered  from 
thirst  I  think  only  those  who  have  felt  the  same 
can  understand.  It  wasn't  hunger  so  much  ;  I 
felt  as  if  food  would  have  choked  me,  though, 
of  course,  I  had  tasted  nothing  since  our  early 
breakfast.  It  was  the  awful  thirst  brought  on 
by  excitement  and  nervous  exhaustion,  and 
Hudson  said  afterwards  he  believed  he  should 
have  gone  mad  if  it  had  lasted  much  longer. 

The  afternoon  had  passed  and  it  was  begin- 
ning to  grow  dusk,  but  we  still  kept  on  baling 
and  rowing  mechanically,  until  suddenly  my 
husband  gave  a  low  moan  and  dropped  forward 
into  the  bottom  of  the  boat  in  a  dead  faint. 

I  was  on  my  knees  beside  him  in  a  moment 
trying  to  lift  his  head  as  much  as  possible 
out  of  the  water  and  to  bring  him  back  to  con- 
sciousness by  rubbing  his  stiff,  frozen  hands. 
But  I  could  make  no  impression,  and  fearing 
he  was  dead  or  dying  I  clung  to  him  wildly 
and  implored  the  mate  to  tell  me  what  I 
could  do. 

"  Do,  mum  ?  "  said   Hudson.     "  If  yer  don't 


I    IMPLORED    THE    MATE    TO   TELL    ME   WHAT    1    COULD    DO. 


a  short  spell  of  rest,  while  all  of  us  kept  a 
constant  look-out  for  a  vessel  each  time  we  rose 
to  the  summit  of  a  big  wave. 

This  went  on  for  several  long,  anxious  hours, 
and  my  arms  and  back  so  ached  with  stooping 


want  us  all  to  be  drowned  you  must  take  to 
that  there  baling  again,  an'  pretty  quick,  too  ! 
The  captain  '11  soon  come  round  all  right  if 
yer  leave  him  to  hisself."  The  man's  manner 
was  rough,  but  he  showed  that  he  meant  well, 


MY    SHIPWRECK. 


167 


for  he  managed  with  some  difficulty  to  slip  off 
his  own  coat,  which  he  gruffly  bade  me  put 
round  my  husband.  I  could  do  nothing  else 
for  him  in  our  helpless  condition,  and,  of 
course,  it  was  worse  than  useless  to  neglect  the 
only  means  of  saving  the  lives  of  any  of  us. 

So  with  an  aching  heart  I  seized  my  pail 
again  and  tried  to  lessen  the  amount  of  water 
that  had  rapidly  come  in  over  the  sides  of  the 
boat.  To  our  dismay  the  wind  had  shifted 
slightly,  and  the  sea  was  growing  more  and  more 
tempestuous. 

The  next  half-hour  was  one  of  horror,  and  the 
agony  of  aching  muscles  and  exhausted  strength. 
I  toiled  on  with  mind  and  body  numb  with 
misery,  and  fearing  every  moment  that  the  poor 
mate  would  collapse  like  my  husband.  One 
cause  for  thankfulness  was  that  Jack  had  opened 
his  eyes  and  was  able  to  regain  his  seat,  but  one 
of  his  oars  had  gone  overboard,  and  Hudson 
would  not  hear  of  relinquishing  his  and  taking  a 
spell  of  rest. 

In  spite  of  all  our  efforts  the  waves  that  broke 
over  the  boat  left  more  water  behind  than  either 
Jack  or  I  could  bale  out,  and  in  almost  apathetic 
despair  I  watched  it  gradually  rise,  until  we  all 
felt  that  hope  was  over  and  the  end  very  near. 

Just  at  this  terrible  moment,  through  the 
darkening  night,  a  black  shadow  suddenly  rose 
before  us,  and  we  saw  a  vessel  so  close  that  at 
first  it  seemed  as  if  she  would  inevitably  run  us 
down.  We  all  shouted  at  the  top  of  our  voices, 
and  to  our  joy  we  were  heard.  A  rope  was 
flung  to  us  and  was  cleverly  caught  and  made 
fast  by  my  husband,  and  in  a  short  time  they 
had  drawn  us  up  to  the  side  of  the  vessel, 
though  our  little  boat  was  already  half-swamped 
and  we  were  in  great  danger  of  being  drowned 
before  they  could  get  us  on  board.  Once  safely 
on  deck,  our  boat  was  cut  adrift,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  we  saw  it  fill  with  water  and  sink  like 
the  Two  Brothers  beneath  the  surface. 

For  the  second  time  that  day  we  had  been 
rescued  from  a  watery  grave,  and  it  was  with 
very  mingled  feelings  that  we  looked  about  us 
to  see  what  our  new  shelter  was  like. 

We  were  almost  too  stupefied  with  cold  and 
fatigue  to  care  much  when  we  learnt  that  luck 
was  still  against  us,  and  that  we  had  practically 
jumped  from  the  frying-pan  into  the  fire  !  We 
had  been  picked  up  by  Captain  Naylor,  of  the 
small  collier  brig  Susannah,  which  had  been 
blown  out  of  her  course  by  the  storm,  and  had 
sprung  a  leak.  She  was  a  stout-built  vessel,  but 
was  now  very  old  and  weather-beaten  ;  still  her 
captain  hoped  to  be  able  to  make  Yarmouth 
H.irbour  before  she  foundered.  This  he  told  us 
after  giving  us  a  stiff  dose  of  rum  and  water,  the 
only  drink  at  his  command,  for  the   fires  were 


out,  so  that  no  food  could   be  cooked  and 
course,    no  comforts    provided  for   ship.. 
strangers.      Some  sodden   biscuit  we   shouldn't 
have  touched  at  any  other   time  was  offered  us 
by  a  grimy  sailor,  and  we  ate  a  little,  and   drank 
some  more  of  the  strong  spirits. 

We  felt  much  revived  after  this,  and  Hudson 
and  my  husband  insisted  on  turning  to  with  the 
men  in  their  work  at  the  pumps,  for  the  crew  .  ! 
the  brig  needed  all  the  help  they  could  possibly 
get. 

As  for  myself,  I  went  below  to  the  little  cabin, 
where  the  rising  water  was  already  a  foot  deep, 
and  sat  down  with  my  feet  on  a  chair  to  keep 
them  out  of  the  wet.  Jack  and  one  of  the 
sailors  did  the  best  they  could  for  me.  I  took 
off  Jack's  coat  and  the  soaked  bodice  of  my 
dress,  and  they  fastened  them  up  on  one  of  the 
yards  to  dry  in  the  wind,  and  covered  my 
shoulders  with  a  coarse  blanket.  I  dared  not 
attempt  to  take  off  my  boots,  for  I  knew  if  I 
did  I  should  never  get  them  on  again,  so  I  had 
to  bear  the  discomfort  of  my  poor,  aching, 
swollen  feet  as  well  as  I  could. 

I  was  so  worn  out  that  even  in  that  con- 
strained position,  still  oppressed  with  anxiety  as 
to  our  ultimate  fate,  I  managed  to  doze  off  for 
a  few  minutes  every  now  and  then,  to  awake 
shivering  with  the  cold.  By  the  light  of  a 
greasy  oil  lamp  I  could  see  that  the  water  in  the 
cabin  was  still  rising,  but  very  slowly,  so  that 
there  was  a  chance,  with  luck,  of  the  poor  old 
Susannah  reaching  Yarmouth. 

At  last,  after  what  seemed  to  me  like  a  dozen 
ordinary  nights  rolled  into  one,  my  husband 
returned  with  my  bodice,  which  I  put  on  with 
difficulty,  for,  of  course,  it  had  dried  as  stiff  as 
leather.  He  had  resumed  his  coat,  but  looked 
almost  as  dirty  and  dishevelled  as  the  crew  of 
the  collier.  He  told  me  the  men  were  almost 
at  the  last  gasp  with  fatigue,  having  had  to  work 
the  pumps  all  night  without  rest,  but  the  captain 
kept  them  going  with  liberal  tots  of  rum  and 
was  determined  to  hold  on  if  possible,  as  he  had 
only  one  leaky  boat,  too  small  in  any  case  to  carry 
us  all.  Jack  said  that  Captain  Naylor  worked 
with  the  men  himself  and  forced  them  to  respect 
him  by  his  pluck  and  endurance.  Dawn  was 
just  breaking  as  Jack  helped  me  on  deck,  for 
could  hardly  walk,  I  was  so  stiff  and  tired.  I 
had  my  blanket  folded  for  warmth  over  my 
dress,  and  Tack  found  a  sheltered  corner  where 
we  partook  of  another  "  meal "  of  biscuit  and 
rum-flavoured  water. 

In  the  dawning  light  everybody  showed  to  the 
worst  possible  advantage.  A  more  haggard, 
unkempt,  grimy  set  of  men  I  never  saw,  and  I 
have  no  doubt  my  own  looks  were  a  good  match 
for  theirs.     I  hadn't  even  a  hat  to  cover  the  we: 


i68 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


wisps  of  hair  that  clung  round  my  face  and  fell 
down  my  back,  and  all  attempts  to  fasten  them 
up  ended  in  failure  owing  to  the  fact  that  most 
of  my  hairpins  had  fallen  out  during  my 
exertions  in  the  small  boat. 

However,  this  was  all  forgotten  in  the  sigh 
of  thankfulness  and 
relief  that  rose  from 
every  breast  when  the 
cry  went  up  that  Yar- 
mouth was  in  sight, 
and  we  knew  that  we 
might  soon  set  foot  on 
land  once  more. 

It  was  even  yet 
doubtful  if  the  water- 
logged vessel  could 
reach  the  harbour  in 
safety.  A  steam- tug 
presently  signalled  to 
know  if  she  should 
come  to  our  assist- 
ance, but  Captain 
Naylor  doggedly  re- 
fused. He  said  that 
after  all  his  efforts  to 
take  the  brig  in  he 
wasn't  going  to  waste 
money  on  a  steam- 
tug.  In  spite  of  our 
natural  anxiety  we 
couldn't  but  admire 
the  man's  determina- 
tion, though  I  confess 
I  didn't  feel  so  much 
admiration  myself 
until  we  were  safely 
ashore. 

Well,  at  last  —  it 
seemed  a  lifetime  of  waiting  —  "  at  last " 
came  ;  we  struggled  into  Yarmouth  Harbour, 
and  Jack  helped,  almost  carried,  me  on  to 
the  quay.  A  fine  sight  I  was  for  the  few 
onlookers,  but  fortunately  at  that  early  hour — 
between  six  and  half-past — there  was  hardly 
anybody  about.  Jack  soon  had  me  in  a  cab, 
and  we  were  driven  straight  to  the  Sailors' 
Home. 

There  we  were  treated  with  the  utmost  kind- 
ness. After  a  delicious  breakfast  of  steaming 
hot  coffee,  rolls,  and  fish  I  was  assisted  by  the 
matron  into  a  warm  bed,  and  wasn't  long  in 
falling  into  a  sound  sleep.  Later  in  the  day 
some  decent  clothing  was  lent  me,  so  that  I  could 
go   out   and   buy   some   new    things,    and    my 


WE    PAKTOOK    OK    ANOI'HEK       MEAI.      "F    BISCUIT    AND 
RUM-FI.AVOURED    WATER." 


husband,   though  not   so    badly  off  as    I    was, 
received  help  of  the  same  kind. 

We  went  home  by  train  to  Hull  the  next  day, 
and  Jack  duly  reported  the  loss  of  the  Two 
Brothers.  Fortunately  for  us,  his  own  share 
in  the  loss  was  entirely  covered  by  insurance. 

He  was  soon  able  to 
get  another  berth  as 
captain,  and  Hudson 
once  more  sailed  with 
him  as  mate.  As  for 
me,  after  a  few  days' 
rest  I  felt  no  ill-effects 
from  my  adventurous 
voyage. 

I  must  tell  you  that 
the  Susannah  was  re- 
paired and  again 
went  to  sea,  but  she 
foundered  in  Yar- 
mouth Roads  in 
the  following  spring. 
Captain  Naylor  was 
not  on  board  her 
when  she  went  down, 
and  we  heard  he  had 
won  both  respect  and 
profit  by  his  brave 
handling  of  her 
during  that  famous 
September  gale. 

Many  months 
afterwards,  one  day 
in  the  street,  I  sud- 
denly came  face  to 
face  with  Gledhill. 
We  stared  at  each 
other  as  if  we  had 
seen  a  ghost,  for 
each  had  thought  the  other  at  the  bottom 
of  the  sea.  It  turned  out  that  the  schooner 
into  which  Gledhill  had  jumped  was  blown 
out  to  sea  in  the  storm,  and  finally  ran 
ashore  on  the  coast  of  Norway  at  a  barren, 
desolate  spot  far  from  any  town.  From  there 
Gledhill  had  tramped  with  most  of  the  ship- 
wrecked crew,  until  at  length  they  reached 
Christiania.  Gledhill  was  there  befriended  by 
the  Seamen's  Mission,  and  after  some  time 
was  able  to  work  his  passage  back  to  Hull. 

So  ends  my  true  story  of  the  sea.  I  think 
you  will  admit  that  my  one  long  day  and  night 
of  danger  and  shipwreck  was  enough  to  satisfy 
any  reasonable  woman's  thirst  for  perilous 
adventure. 


3y  Sledge  j/lcross  the    Sop   of   Europe. 

By  Gii.son  Willets. 

An  account  of  an  arduous  midwinter  trip  through  the  remote  regions  of  Northern  Russia,  Finland, 
Lapland,  and  Sweden.  Ravenous  wolves,  prowling  highwaymen,  six-foot  snow-drifts,  and  starving 
peasants  were  some  of  the  accessories  of  this  out-of-the-ordinary  journey.     Mr.  Willets  illustrates 

his  article  with  a  number  of  striking  photographs. 


ROM  where  I  write  this  I  can 
peer  out  through  a  double  window 
upon  a  scene  of  dazzling  white- 
ness, all  illumined  by  the  wide- 
spreading  flames  of  the  Aurora 
Borealis.  That  mysterious  torch  of  the  northern 
heavens,  made  seemingly  of  a  thousand  thousand 
rainbows,  reveals  Kajana,  a  village  set  in  the 
snow-bound  region  of  Northern  Finland,  two 
days'  journey  from  the  northernmost  railroad 
station  in  the  Czar's  Empire.  The  incan- 
descence of  the  Northern  Lights  imparts  a 
wondrous  majesty  to  the  scene. 

"  Suddenly  out  of  the  vast  silence  comes  a 
sound  strangely  mournful.     Only  at  the  top  of 


Vol.  xiv.— 22. 


SCHOOL   CHILDREN    SERENADING    THE 

From  a]  wayside  station. 


the  world  can  a  sound  so  melancholy  be  heard. 
It  is  the  sound  of  human  voices — male  voices 
singing  in  chorus  one  of  the  weird  folklore 
songs  of  the  northland.  The  young  men  of 
Kajana  are  serenading  the  American  traveller." 

This  extract  fro  n  my  diary  was  written  in  a 
four-room  post-house,  dignified  by  the  name 
Kajana  Hotel,  on  a  midwinter  evening  of  last 
year.  I  was  then  "  forty-eight  hours  north  of 
the  railway,"  on  a  sledge  journey  which  was  to 
last  four  weeks,  during  which  time  I  was  to 
traverse  Northern  Russia,  Finland,  Lapland,  and 
Sweden,  covering  a  distance  of  seven  hundred 
miles. 

That  serenade  was  in  accord  with  the  custom 
of  the  country.  Singing,  indeed,  may  be  said  to 
be  a  national  custom  alike  among 
the  Finns,  Russians,  and  Swedes. 
For  at  every  railway  station  at 
which  we  stopped,  and  at  every 
post-house  throughout  the  trip,  the 
peasants  came  to  sing  for  us.  In 
Helsingfors,  the  capital  of  Finland, 
we  were  God  -  speeded  by  a  male 
chorus  of  seventy  -  five  voices, 
called  the  "Jolly  Musicians." 
said  to  be  the  finest  male  choral 
society  in  all  Russia.  In 
Uleaborg,  a  wonderful  city  of  Fin- 
land, having  the  Arctic  Circle  run- 
ning through  its  town  -  hall,  two 
thousand  school  children  assembled 
and  sang  the  Finnish  National 
Anthem  for  our  benefit. 

Besides  the  serenades,  they  in- 
variably gave  us  flowers.  Whi 
those  daisies  came  from  out  of  that 
country  of  snow  and  ice,  where  the 
streets  of  villages  were  snow-packed 
seven  feet  deep,  was  a  mysti 
never  solved,  for  we  discovered 
no  nurseries  or  florists'  shops. 
In  a  country  where  poverty  dwells 
eternallv,  those  expensive  flowers 
represented  the  most  pathetic  and 


170 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


AT    UI.EADORG,    IN    FINLAND,    TWO    THOUSAND    CHILDREN    ASSF.MBLKD    AND    SANG   THE    FINNISH    NATIONAL   ANTHEM,    AFTERWARDS 

From  a\  presenting  mr.  willets  and  his  companions  with  flowers.  [Photo. 


sincere  tribute  that  could  possibly  be  paid  to 
a  stranger  in  a  strange  land. 

My  Finnish  companions  told  me  that  I  was 
the  first  foreigner  who  had  ever  appeared  in 
that  region  in  midwinter.  "  Don't  be  offended 
by  their  staring,  master,"  said  my  native  guide. 
"  Some  of  those  peasants  have  never  seen  a 
foreigner  before  in  all  their  lives.  Some  of 
them  have  come  forty,  fifty  miles  to  see  you. 
Besides,  master,  you  have  black  eyes  and  black 
hair,  and  those  are  things  which  many  of  these 
blue-eyed,  flaxen-haired  people  have  never  seen 
before." 

From  St.  Petersburg  we  made  the  first  stage 
of  my  journey  to  Helsingfors  by  the  big,  com- 
fortable Russian  railway  train,  with  its  wood- 
burning  locomotive.  Thence,  with  companions 
who  joined  me  at  Helsingfors,  I  journeyed  by 
the  perfectly-appointed  Finnish  railway  train  to 
Kuopio,  the  northern  terminus,  in  the  heart  of 
the  land  called,  in  Finnish,  Suomi — "  The  Land 
of  Many  Lakes."  Then  by  sledges  we  reached 
Kajana,  the  first  and  last  village  of  importance 
north  of  the  railroad,  in  middle  Finland. 

Our  sledges  had  already  brought  us  over 
many   frozen   lakes    and   rivers,    through    pine 


forest  after  pine  forest.  On  the  way  we  visited 
many  peasant  homes,  sometimes  ploughing  our 
way  through  virgin  snow  for  the  purpose ;  while 
to  reach  the  more  remote  huts  we  were  obliged 
to  travel  by  skis,  a  method  of  locomotion  in 
which  I  was  still  amazingly  clumsy. 

Ten,  fifteen,  and  twenty  miles  had  often  to 
be  traversed  between  two  neighbouring  farm- 
houses. With  the  thermometer  far  below  zero, 
and  with  gales  driving  the  snow  in  our  faces, 
like  sands  of  the  desert,  it  was  manifest  that  the 
journey  was  to  be  a  test  of  physical  endurance 
and  of  Job-like  patience. 

My  object  in  making  the  journey  was  to  see 
how  the  people  live  on  the  "  top  of  the  world  " 
in  winter  in  time  of  famine — for  famine  raged 
all  through  that  country  at  that  time.  To  see 
the  peasantry  on  their  native  heath,  so  to  speak, 
it  was  necessary  to  travel  far  from  the  railways, 
for  those  people  like  plenty  of  elbow  room,  and 
so  live  far  apart. 

Travel  in  that  snow-covered  northland  is  com- 
parable in  some  respects  to  travel  in  the  sand- 
covered  desert.  Only  in  the  desert  there  are 
insects,  and  hence  life-sounds.  But  in  the 
land   of    frozen   lakes   there   is    absolutely   no 


BY    SLEDGE    ACROSS    THE    TOP    OF    EUROPE. 


'7' 


sound.  Even  the  wind 
holds  its  breath  for  days 
at  a  time.  Simply  a  vast 
white,  cold,  calm 
nothingness.  A 
man  dare  not 
travel  alone  here, 
lest  he  lose  his 
reason.  Even 
with  companions 
to  talk  to,  1  often 
resorted  to  relief 
from  the  mono- 
tony of  vision 
and  the  appal- 
ling silence- 
even  on  com- 
paratively warm 
days — by  pulling 
my  cap  over  my 
eyes  and  ears. 

Now  to  take 
the  incidents  of 
the  journey  in  the  ordei 
of  their  occurrence  frorr 
the  beginning.  "  I  sup 
pose  the  Finns  are  like  the  Lapps  or  the 
Esquimaux?"  said  one  of  my  fellow-passengers 
on  the  Nord  Express  from  Berlin  to  St. 
Petersburg.  Possibly  he  summed  up 
the  knowledge  of  the  average  man  in 
any  part  of  the  world  regarding  the 
Finnish  people. 

When    I    arrived    in 
Helsingfors  I  found  that 
the   Finns  are  no  more 
like  the  Lapps  than  are 
the  Swedes.     In  culture 
—  in    learning, 
religion,  litera- 
ture, and  art — 
Finland   holds 
a    place     fully 
equal    to    that 
of     Sweden. 
Education  is 
compulsory, 
even  among  the  peasan- 
try ;    and    co  -  education 
has  made  more  progress 
here  than  in  any  other 
country.  Even  the  young 
girls    speak    five    or   six 
languages  —  for   here   all   are  lin- 
guists,    every      educated      person 
speaking     English,     French,     and 
German,  as  well  as  Finnish,  Rus- 
sian, and  Swedish  ! 

Said  an    English   gentleman    to 


**. 


PEASANT        WOMEN        GOING 


MARKET    ON     SKIS— THKV    OFTEN 
TRAVEL   SIXTV     MILES    A     DAY     IN 

THIS    WAV. 

From  a  Photo. 


at  Helsingfors: 
ju  see  here  the  un- 
piest  people  on  earth, 
not  even  except- 
ing the  PoUs. 
This  is  because 
of  Russian  op- 
pression. But 
they  are  more 
patient  than 
Hindus,  and  they 
will  win  out  in 
the  end.  They 
are  the  most  ad- 
vanced people  in 
the  Czar's  realm. 
Look  at  the  pub- 
lic buildings  of 
this  city  ■ —  the 
University,  the 
Senate  and 
House  of  Repre- 
sentatives,  the 
art  galleries  and  thea- 
tres !  You  can  buy 
almost  anything  here 
that  you  can  buy  in  the  shops  of  London, 
and  the  hotels  are  far  better  than  those  in  St. 

Petersburg.      There's  a 
magnificent  Russian 
church — but  only  a  few 
worshippers,   for  the 
Finns     are     Lutherans. 
They  have   more   news- 
papers    here     than     in 
Moscow,   but    the   Rus- 
sians are  suppressing  all 
except    those 
edited  by  Rus- 
sians.      You'll 
find    these 
people  very  re- 
ligious.    They 
are       very 
serious  ;     they 
seldom  smile." 
At  Helsing- 
fors we  fitted  out,  "  we  " 
meaning    my   two    com- 
panions, who  were   Fin- 
nish   Government    offi- 
cials, and  a  guide.     We 
took  a  hundred  pounds' 
worth  of  provisions  of  every  con- 
ceivable  kind,   most    of  which   we 
gave  away  at  the  end  of  the  sledge 
journey,    as    we  found    we    craved 
principally  the  foods  natural  to  the 
climate,  such  as  salt  fish  and  rein- 


TO 


172 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


deer  meat.  For  drink  we  resorted  chiefly  to 
coffee,  for  in  that  north  country  they  make 
coffee  with  a  degree  of  perfection  not  attained 
elsewhere. 

We  carried  also  cooking  utensils,  and  foot- 
warmers  (which  we  never  used),  blue  glasses 
(never  used),  medicines  (never  used),  thermo- 
meters, and  barometers.  When  we  wanted 
water  we  used  snow. 

For  clothing  we  wore  two  suits  of  fleece-lined 
underclothing,  two  flannel  shirts,  two  sweaters, 
a  heavy  woollen  suit,  a  great-coat,  and  over  that 
a  fur  coat.  For  six  pounds  I  bought  a  coat  of 
Siberian  wild-cat  skin  good  enough  to  wear 
anywhere.  Then  we  wore  fur 
caps,  fur  mittens,  and  fur  moc- 
casins. 

I  will  not  attempt  to  name 
all  the  villages  we  visited,  for 
I  should  have  to  set  down  a 
succession  of  unpronounceable 
names,  such  as  Nikolainkau- 
punki,  Jjvaskyla,  Paikallisjunat, 
and  Uusikarlepyy.  Sufficient 
to  say,  we  were  in  the  Land  of 
Midday  Moon,  with  seldom 
more  than  two  hours  of  light  at 
noontime ;  a  land  of  eternal 
twilight,  the  little  of  daylight 
being  grey,  and  lamps  burning 
outdoors  and  candles  indoors 
perpetually. 

From  Kajana,  already  men- 
tioned, we  began  our  journey  of 
two  hundred  miles  across  Fin- 
land and  into  Russia  proper. 
The  first  day  out  we  encoun- 
tered famine  in  typical  form — 
a  sort  of  chronic  condition 
among  these  people  in  winter. 
In  one  farmhouse,  little  more 
than  a  hut,  we  found  five  chil- 
dren alone — the  eldest  thirteen, 
the  youngest  three.  They  were  motherless,  and 
for  days  had  been  also  fatherless.  For  the 
father  was  away,  travelling  about  the  country  on 
skis,  looking  for  work.  We  stepped  into  this 
home  of  unhappy  childhood  and  came  to  a 
sudden  pause,  so  appalling  was  the  picture  of 
misery. 

Imagine  a  log  cabin  of  one  room,  with  a 
ceiling  too  low  for  an  ordinary  man  to  stand 
upright,  containing  nothing  in  the  way  of  furni- 
ture save  a  rude  table,  a  few  rough-hewn  kitchen 
utensils,  and  a  bench  along  one  side.  On  that 
bench  sat  the  five  children.  Did  they  evince 
childish  curiosity  at  our  intrusion?  No; 
they  sat  and  stared  like  so  many  statues 
of   grief,    their     young     spirits    deadened    by 


THE    AUTHOK,   MR.   G1LSON     WILI.E1S,   IN   THE 
COSTUME    HE    WORE   ON    HIS  JOURNEY. 

From  a  Photo. 


that  peculiar  form  of  hunger  that  comes  of 
eating  the  same  food  week  after  week  and 
month  after  month — simply  black  bread,  as 
hard  as  pumice.  To  soften  it  they  dipped  it 
in  hot  water,  making  a  kind  of  gruel.  For 
months  they  had  lived  on  nothing  but  this 
diet.  On  a  pole  over  the  fireplace — just  as 
in  every  hut  for  endless  miles  around — were 
suspended  several  loaves  of  the  black  bread, 
the  only  food  in  that  home,  yet  forming  a 
raft  of  safety  on  the  waters  of  life  for  five 
children.  Even  for  the  baby  there  was  not 
a  drop  of  milk,  for  the  cow  had  long  ago 
been  sold  to  save  fodder. 

For  all  the  twenty-two  hours 
of  darkness  they  had  no  candle, 
nor  even  a  little  petroleum  for 
the  tiny  tin  lamp.  At  night  they 
simply  huddled  around  the  fire, 
the  stone  hearth  for  bed  ;  for 
even  the  straw  had  been  sold. 

The  sole  evidence  of  childish 
things  in  this  home  was  a  be- 
draggled rag-doll  that  lay  on  the 
window-sill.  They  had  a  single 
pair  of  boots  among  them. 
When  one  went  abroad  into  the 
snow,  that  one  wore  the  boots, 
and  the  others  had  to  await  his 
return  with  the  family  boots,  or 
venture  forth  at  peril  of  frozen 
toes. 

We  placed  money  on  their 
table.  They  simply  stared  with 
their  stony  faces  ;  for  what  good 
was  money  when  food  could  not 
be  bought  at  a  point  nearer  than 
sixty  miles  away  ?  We  carried 
in  a  dozen  loaves  of  black  bread, 
a  supply  of  which  we  always 
stowed  on  our  provision  sledge. 
Still  they  said  nothing,  seeming 
to  stare  past  us  into  an  infinitude 
It  was  apparent  that  the  signifi- 
visit  would  not  reach  their  con- 


of  suffering. 

cance  of  our 

sciousness  until  after  our  departure. 

Many  such  scenes  we  witnessed  throughout 
our  journey,  so  the  one  just  described  will 
serve  to  typify  the  general  condition  in  the 
homes  of  the  northland  in  time  of  the  annual 
famine.  Sometimes  we  chanced  upon  homes 
wherein  the  last  crumb  had  just  been  consumed 
— here  we  were  in  the  nick  of  time.  We  saw 
scores  of  children  trudging  through  the  snow 
bareheaded,  and  also  actually  barefooted,  unless 
skis  can  be  said  to  form  a  foot  covering. 
And  this  in  a  country  where  we  were  only  just 
comfortably  warm  in  all  our  furs  ! 

As    we    approached     the     Russian    frontier 


BY    SLEDGE    ACROSS    THE    TOP    OF    EUROPE. 


i73 


RRAIA'    FilK    THE    STAR1 


"UK    AUTHORS    DEI'AierURE    FROM    A 

From  a  Photo. 


WAYSIDE    POST-HOUSE. 


Russian  soldiers  began  their  work  of  holding 
us  up.  They  demanded  to  see  our  passports, 
wanted  to  know  why  we  were  travelling  as  we 
were,  and  subjected  us  to  other  annoyances  and 
delays.  At  the  frontier  itself  a  soldier  called  upon 
us  to  halt,  and  said  :  "  Have  you  any  papers  ?  " 

We  showed  our  passports.  "  That's  not 
enough,"  he  said.     "Have  you  any  writing?" 

He  then  opened  all  our  luggage,  and  every 
box  of  provisions,  in  the  search  for  "  writing." 
He  found  my  note-books,  and  began  turning 
over  the  leaves. 

"  He  can't  read  a  word,"  said  our  guide,  in 
English. 

The  reason  for  his  r.  mark  was  apparent — the 
soldier  was  holding  my  "writing"  upside  down. 

"  We'll  keep  this  writing,"  said  the  soldier. 
"  And  it's  not  enough,"  he  added.  "  What  have 
you  in  your  pockets  ?  " 

In  my  boot  I  had  my  diary.  This  I  was 
determined  to  keep.  I  remembered  stories  of 
what  money  will  do  in  Russia,  and  I  brazenly 
took  out  my  diary  and,  while  displaying  it  in 
one  hand,  proffered  him  a  gold  piece  with  the 
other  hand.  "  Which  will  you  take  ?  "  I  said,  and 
my  guide  interpreted  for  the  soldier's  benefit. 

That  minion  of  the  Czar  actually  dropped  his 
bayonet  in  the  snow  to  put  the  coin  safely  away 
in  his  pocket 


"  One  more  gold  piece 
gets  the  note-books,"  said 
the  guide.  And  it  did. 
The  suffering  among 
the  Russian  peasantry  was  even 
worse  than  among  the  Finns. 
They  lived  for  the  most  part 
in  inaccessible  nooks  among 
the  ice -hills.  To  reach  one 
such  peasant  home  required  a 
half-day's  toilsome  travel,  first 
by  horse,  which,  up  to  his 
flanks  in  snow,  dragged  us  to 
the  edge  of  a  frozen  lake,  then 
over  this  soft  covering  of  snow 
on  skis,  to  the  door  of  the  hut. 
Here  we  found  a  family  of 
fifteen  members,  representing 
three  generations,  subsisting 
entirely  on  a  form  of  food  even 
inferior  to  the  black  bread  of 
Finland.  This  was  "  hunger- 
bread,"  the  genuine  thing, 
seemingly  unfit  for  a  goat.  It 
was  made  of  a  little  rye-flour 
and  a  great  deal  of  straw  and 
birch  or  pine  bark.  Of  course, 
there  is  nothing  nutritious  in 
straw,  and  the  amount  of  nutri- 
tion contained  in  birch  or  pine 
bark  is  so  small  that  one  must  eat  a  pound  of 
bark  to  get  one  grain  of  sap. 

"  They  say  they  mix  the  straw  and  bark  with 
the  flour,"  said  the  guide,  "  merely  for  the  sake 
of  putting  something  into  the  stomach  ;  on  the 
plan  adopted  by  shipwrecked  sailors  when  they 
resort  to  a  diet  of  boots.  Those  who  subsist  for 
many  days  on  '  hunger-bread  '  suffer  excruciating 
pains,  followed  by  fever  and,  if  the  diet  is  not 
changed,  death." 

When  we  entered  the  hut  now  under  con- 
sideration several  members  of  the  family  were 
scraping  the  white  of  bark  from  twigs,  while 
others  baked  bark  in  an  oven  preparatory  to 
grinding  it  into  meal. 

"  But  why  don't  they  work  ?  "  I  asked,  looking 
pointedly  at  the  strongest  young  man  of  the 
family. 

"They  simply  can't  get  work  in  winter,"  said 
one  of  my  companions.  "In  summer  they 
work  from  five  o'clock  in  the  morning  until  ten 
at  night.  The  remainder  of  the  year,  eight 
months  in  all,  they  loaf.  That  young  man  on 
the  bench  there  has  earned  a  sum  equal  to  only 
one  shilling  in  four  months." 

On  our  way  back  to  the  Finnish  frontier  began 
a  series  of  adventures  which  any  traveller  in  this 
region  must  expect.  The  first  trouble  came 
from  wolves.     In  the  night  hours  we  could  see 


i74 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


long  distances  all  around  us,  because  of  the 
reflection  of  the  snow.  Therefore  we  usually 
could  not  only  hear  the  cry  of  the  wolves,  but 
also  see  them  a  long  distance  off.  At  such 
times  we  would  flash  our  little  electric  lamps, 
which  we  had  purchased  for  this  very  purpose. 
I  was  told  that  the  mere  lighting  of  a  match 
would  have  served  just  as  well  to  keep  the 
brutes  off.  We  all  carried  revolvers,  of  course, 
and  had  them  ready  for  instant  use.  On  the 
very  evening  on  which  we  were  congratulating 
ourselves  that  we  had  not  had  to  use  our  fire- 
arms we  were  sledging  through  a  pine  forest. 
Without  warning,  hideous  cries  rent  the  air. 
The  wolves  were  upon  us  ! 

We  must  have  awakened  them  in  their  lair 
under  the  pines.  The  whole  pack  rushed  to 
the  attack,  choosing  for  their  prey  the  horse  that 
was  pulling  the  last  of  our  line  of  three  sledges. 
Inspired  doubtless  by  hunger,  their  attack  was 
desperate.  Our  electric  lamps  were  now  of  no 
use,  as  one  of  the  wolves  had  already  fastened 
his  fangs  in  the  horse's  neck  and  was  hanging 
on  grimly.  I  suppose  twenty-four  shots  had 
never  been  fired  in  such  quick  succession  in 
that  region,  for,  as  of  one  accord,  we  all  four 
opened  fire,  emptying  the  chambers  of  our 
revolvers  into  the  pack. 

The  smell  of  blood  among  their  own  kind  was 
sufficient.  They  forsook  the  horse  and  attacked 
their  dead  and  wounded,  rending  the  bodies 
piecemeal.     That  saved  us. 

With  the  horses  at  a  gallop  we  flew  on — till  the 
horse  with  the  bleeding  throat  dropped.  We 
shot  him  to  put  him  out  of  his  misery,  hitched 
the  third  sledge  to  the  second  with  utmost  haste, 
and  thus,  with  one  horse 
pulling  two   sledges,    hurried 

At  the 

bought 

so  were 

for   the 


establishments  abound  in  this  region — to  have 
supper  with  us,  intending  to  treat  them  to  some 
of  the  tinned  goodies  which  we  had  brought 
from   Helsingfors. 

Imagine  our  consternation  when  our  drivers 
reported  that  the  provision  sledge  was  gone — that 
it  had  utterly  disappeared  ! 

"  Hitch  up  one  of  the  sledges  quick  as  light- 
ning," said  our  guide  to  the  drivers.  "  We'll 
show  you  how  we  deal  with  thieves  in  this 
province." 

Five  minutes  later  we  were  all  four  seated  in 
a  sledge,  driving  pell-mell  over  the  snow  in  the 
track  of  our  own  provision  sledge.  At  the  end  of 
an  hour  we  came  to  a  hut,  in  front  of  which 
stood  an  empty  sledge.  We  could  not  identify  it 
as  ours,  as  all  sledges  look  alike  in  that  country. 
We  knocked  on  the  door  of  the  hut,  our  guide 
crying  :   "  Open,  or  we'll  fire  through  the  door." 

The  door  opened,  revealing  a  room  lighted 
by  a  single  candle,  and  scattered  over  the  floor 
were  our  boxes  of  provisions.  Two  men,  three 
women,  and  a  few  children  were  seated  about 
the  room.  The  men  had  black  beards,  black 
eyes,  and  black  hair,  by  which  I  at  once  knew 
that  they  were  not  natives. 

"Gipsies  !"  exclaimed  my  companions. 

And  sure  enough  they  proved  to  be  gipsies 
from  Hungary  and  Bohemia,  their  presence  in 
this  far  northland  being  about  the  most  remark- 
able thing  our  guide  had  ever  heard  of.  They 
couldn't  understand  a  word  we  said  to  them, 
though  we  spoke  in  six  different  languages.  So 
while  two  of  our  party  ostentatiously  cocked 
their  revolvers  the  other  two  began  carrying  out 
the  provisions. 


on  as  best  we  could 
next   farmhouse    we 
another   horse,  and 
not  much  the  worse 


adventure.  After  that  we 
were  several  times  chased  by 
wolves,  but  never  again  at- 
tacked. 

Our  second  adventure  was 
with  highwaymen — not  the 
kind  who  hold  people  up  at 
the  end  of  a  gun,  but  skulk- 
ing thieves  who  sneaked  away 
with  our  provisions,  wanting 
our  food  rather  than  our 
money  or  our  lives.  We  had 
put  up  for  the  night  at  a  post- 
house  in  a  Russian  village, 
and  had  invited  two  young 
ladies,  teachers  in  the  local 
industrial   school  —  tiles** 


THE   GATE   AND   SIGN-POST    MARK    THK    PNONTIF.R    KETWEEN    RUSSIA    AND    FINLAND 

From  a  Photo. 


BY    SLEDGE    ACROSS    THE    TOP    OF    EUROPE. 


i75 


Then  the  guide  ordered  the  two  men  to  get 
into  the  sledge.  They  obeyed  meekly,  and  thus 
we  carried  back,  not  only  our  provisions,  but  a 
couple  of  prisoners  as  well.  After  returning  to 
the  post-house,  we  sent  for  the  headman  of  the 
village  and  turned  the  two  gipsies  over  to  him. 
Then  we  opened  our  tinned  goodies,  and  our 
young  lady  guests  had  a  supper  such  as  they 
had  not  tasted  for  months  before. 

"  What  became  of  the  gipsies  ?  "  I  asked  our 
guide. 

"  Oh,  they  won't  steal  again  for  years  to  come," 
was  the  reply.  "  The  villagers  will  take  them  a 
six  days'  journey  to  the  railway,  and  there  they 
will  be  handed  over  to  the  Russian  police,  who 
will  take  them  to  the  nearest  city,  whence  in 
turn  they  will  be  sent  across  the  border  into 
the  hands  of  the  Hungarian  police.  Their 
families  may  follow  as  best  they  can." 

When  we  had  recrossed  the  frontier  and  were 
again  in  Finland,  the  first  village  we  came  to  was 
in  a  high  state  of  excitement.  It  was  "  con- 
scription day,"  when  all  the  young  men  of  the 
village  were  called  upon  to  report  for  service  in 
the  Russian  army.  The  young  men  had  refused 
to  respond,  and  the  action  taken  by  the  Russian 
soldiery  had  thrown  the  town  into  weeping  and 
gnashing  of  teeth.  A  peasant  had  been  literally 
forced  into  the  army  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet, 
as  an  example  to  the  others.  The  soldiers,  by 
order,  had  appeared  at  his  house,  where  they 
put  him  in  irons,  then  walked  him  up  and  down 
the  principal  street  in  his  shackles.  After  that 
he  was  forcibly  clothed  in  the  uniform  of  a 
Russian  soldier.  "  But  they  will  never  keep  a 
Finn  in  the  Russian  army,"  said  one  of  the 
peasants.     "That  man  will  desert." 

While  sledging  across  Finland  on  this  part  of 
our  journey,  on  our  way  to  Lapland,  we  were 
one  evening  overtaken  by  a  snowstorm  more 
merciless  than  any  we  had  before  encountered. 
It  actually  snowed  in  sheets.  In  less  than  a 
quarter  of  an  hour — so  rapidly  did  the  snow 
fall — we  perceived  that  we  should  not  be  able 
to  reach  shelter  that  night.  In  the  first  place, 
the  horses,  breast  deep  and  exerting  all  their 
strength  in  breaking  a  way  through  the  snow, 
showed  signs  of  giving  out.  Then  we  found 
that  we  were  off  the  road — had,  indeed,  lost  our 
way  !  There  was  nothing  to  do  except  to 
secure  such  shelter  for  men  and  animals  as  was 
possible  under  a  clump  of  pine  trees. 

We  were  too  exhausted  to  unpack  any  food 
that  night,  though  we  did  manage  to  get  out 
some  hay  for  the  horses.  Then  we  stretched 
out  full  length  in  the  sledges  and,  with  the  fur 
robes  over  our  heads,  went  to  sleep.  Every 
once  in  a  while  in  the  night  we  would  sit  up 
and   shake  off  the   weight   of  snow   that  had 


accumulated  while  we  slept.  In  the  morning 
it  was  still  snowing.  We  tried  to  make  coffee, 
but  as  soon  as  we  got  a  few  twigs  blazing  an 
extra  heavy  fall  of  snow  would  extinguish  the 
fire  utterly.  On  the  third  day  the  snow  ceased, 
and  after  a  long,  heart-breaking  journey  we  at 
last  came  to  a  farmhouse,  and  the  next  day  the 
occupier  piloted  us  back  to  the  highway. 

Then  we  had  four  days  of  cold  such  as  I 
never  wish  to  endure  again.  We  pulled  our 
caps  over  our  heads,  leaving  only  a  narrow  slit 
to  peep  through.  Our  very  breath  froze  and 
formed  in  a  sheet  of  ice  over  the  slit.  To  take 
off  a  mitten  meant,  instantly,  a  frozen  finger  or 
two.  At  last,  out  of  consideration  for  the 
horses,  if  not  for  our'  own  sakes,  we  stopped 
at  a  post-house  until  the  cold  had  somewhat 
abated,  waiting  nearly  two  days  for  the  warm 
weather. 

It  did  indeed  get  warm,  too  warm  for  that 
country  at  that  season.  We  were  constantly 
crossing  frozen  lakes,  and  now,  with  the  warm 
days,  the  ice  on  those  lakes  began  to  crack 
ominously.  We  had  heard  of  how  a  whole 
caravan  of  sledges  laden  with  hemp,  owned  by 
Russian  merchants,  on  their  way  to  market,  had 
been  lost  in  a  lake — the  catastrophe  being 
preceded  by  just  such  ominous  crackings  of 
the  ice  as  we  now  heard  from  day  to  day. 
Finally  we  again  decided  to  wait — this  time  for 
cold  weather — before  risking  any  more  lake 
travel. 

Then  on  we  went,  up  and  up  to  Lapland. 
The  Lapps,  so  picturesque  in  pictures,  where 
they  are  shown  in  gorgeously-coloured  array, 
are  in  reality  less  picturesque  than  the  poorest 
Russian  peasant.  There  was  more  evidence  of 
famine,  too,  among  the  Lapps  than  among  either 
the  Finns  or  the  Russians.  One  day  we  met  a 
Lapp  who  seemed  fat  enough,  but  we  soon 
learned  that  under  his  furs  he  was  nothing  better 
than  a  living  skeleton.  Every  day,  it  seemed, 
he  would  pull  his  belt  a  hole  tighter  to  leave 
less  room  within  for  the  pangs  of  hunger. 
When  the  Lapp  pulls  in  the  last  hole  of  his  belt 
he  gives  up  hope,  and  if  food  does  not  then 
come  in  some  miraculous  way  he  simply  allows 
the  spark  of  life  to  flicker  out. 

The  Lapps  were  glad  to  rent  us  their  sledges, 
reindeer,  and  dogs,  and  some  of  them  were  glad 
when  we  came  to  places  where  neither  deer  nor 
dog  could  pull  us — so  deep  and  soft  was  the 
snow— and  they  were  obliged  to  give  us  the 
benefit  of  their  own  services.'  They  showed  us 
knives  which  they  had  made  and  carved  them- 
selves, being  taught  to  do  so  by  the  Swedish 
Government  —  for  we  were  now  on  Swedish 
territory.  The  Lapps  get  their  main  living 
caring  for  herds  of  reindeer   in  summer— the 


176 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


way 
tele 


herds  belonging  to  farmers  farther  south,  in 
Sweden  proper.  Reindeer  do  not  thrive  farther 
south  than  Lapland  in  summer,  so  in  the  warm 
months  the  Lapps  come  down  and  drive  whole 
herds  north,  and  with  the  money  thus  earned 
buy  enough  food  to  last  them  through  the 
winter.  Those  who  had  not  earned  enough 
money,  or  had  not  bought  sufficient  food,  were 
the  ones  whom  we  saw  suffering  from  famine. 

Then  began  the  last  stage  of  our  sledge  journey, 
down  through  Northern  Sweden.  At  most  of 
the  peasant  homes  we  found  conditions  of 
famine  almost  as  bad  as  in  Finland,  Russia,  and 
Lapland. 

One  day  we  came  to  a  post-house  that 
had  a  telephone,  and  by  that  we  knew  that  we 
were  again  approach- 
ing civilization. 
Sweden,  by  the 
the  use  of  the 
phone  is  prob- 
a  b  1  y  more 
general  than  in 
any  other  coun- 
try in  Northern 
Europe.  The 
next  day,  surely 
enough,  we 
sighted  the  rail- 
way. What  a 
throwing-up  of 
caps  ensued  ! 
What  cheering! 
We  were  like 
school-boys  in 
our  glee  at  our 
return  to  the 
active  world. 

At    Morjarv, 
the       most 

northerly  railroad  station  in  East  Sweden,  where 
also  is  published  the  farthest  north  newspaper 
in  the  world,  we  took  the  train  to  Lulea,  the 
capital  of  the  province.  There  we  were  received 
and  dined  and  feted  by  the  biggest  man  in  all 
Sweden,  Governor  Bergstrom,  a  giant  of  seven 
feet  in  height,  and  no  one  knows  how  many 
feet  around. 

In  Stockholm  I  was  presented  to  King 
Oscar  II.  and  the  Queen,  by  Mr.  Thomas,  the 
American  Minister.  Their  Majesties  gave  me  a 
private  audience  lasting  half  an  hour.  The 
King  wished  particularly  to  know  how  his 
people  in  the  far  north  fared.  There  is  hardly 
a  city  on  the  line  of  the  railways  in  Sweden 
which  His  Majesty  has  not  visited ;  but  he  has 


never  been  north  of  the  railways.  Hence  he 
seemed  glad  to  listen  to  the  tale  of  my  journey. 
"One  of  my  hobbies,"  said  His  Majesty,  "is 
geographical  exploration.  I  regret  that  active 
participation  in  adventures  of  the  kind  is 
confined  to  supplying  some  of  the  money  for 
expeditions  conducted  by  others." 

Then  the  door  opened,  and  there  entered  a 
lady  unattended,  dressed  in  black  silk,  with  the 
sweetest  face  imaginable. 

"May  I  present  you  to  Her  Majesty ?"  said 
the  King.  The  lady  was  the  Queen  of  the 
Swedes,  who  soon  afterwards  celebrated  the 
forty-sixth  anniversary  of  her  wedding.  She  re- 
mained in  the  room  till  the  end  of  the  inter- 
view, and  in  her  asides  to  the  King  addressed 

him  as  "father"  and 
"dear,"  quite  the  same 
as  any  housewife  in 
Sweden. 

Never  had  a 
stranger  en- 
tered the  pre- 
sence of  a*  King 
and  Queen 
armed  as  I  was 
on  that  occa- 
sion. I  carried 
a  present  which 
I  believed  His 
Majesty  would 
accept.  It  was 
wrapped  in  the 
gaudy  blue-and- 
red  paper  used 
by  up-country 
peasants.  That 
bundle  had 
caused  a  look 
of  horror  to 
appear  on  the  faces  of  all  the  attendants  who 
had  shown  me  through  the  palace,  but  I  hung 
on  to  it,  despite  their  evident  suspicion  and 
anxiety.  Maybe  they  thought  I  was  carrying 
an  infernal  machine.  Under  my  arm,  indeed, 
was  more  than  one  fell  weapon  of  destruction. 
It  contained  a  dozen  of  the  knives  which  I 
had  bought  from  His  Majesty's  Lappish 
subjects  on  the  Arctic  Circle. 

When  I  exhibited  the  knives— all  beautifully 
carved,  hilt  and  blade — I  asked  His  Majesty 
to  accept  them  as  from  his  humblest  subjects  of 
the  northland,  and  when  I  told  him  of  the 
distress  the  bundle  had  evoked  among  his 
servants  he  gave  vent  to  a  hearty  human 
laugh. 


rJiarn/Dil/o/f  Jones. 


From    a    Photo,    by 
Peirce  &*  Jones. 


The    story  of    what    is    perhaps    the    most    thrilling    snake-fight    on    record — a   desperate    struggle    be- 
tween   three    men    and    three    huge    snakes    in    a    locked    cage  !       The    author  journeyed    to    New    York 
specially  on  behalf  of  "  The  Wide  World  Magazine  "   and  secured    the    personal   narratives  of  the  men 
concerned,  and   the   interesting  photographs  reproduced  with    the  story. 


HAT  more  thrilling  idea  could  be 
conceived  for  a  melodramatic  story 
than  a  fight  between  three  men  and 
a    trio    of 
huge     py 


tiles  in  the  Zoological  Garden  at  Central  Park, 
New  York.  They  have  been  accustomed  to 
dominate  beasts  many  times  their  size  and  weight 


thons,  the  contending 
parties  being  locked 
in  a  cage  from  which 
there  was  no  escape 
until  one  or  the  other 
side  won  ?  When  it 
is  said,  however,  that 
such  a  fight  actually 
took  place,  and  that 
after  a  terrific  struggle 
the  three  men  van- 
quished the  snakes 
and  are  alive  to-day 
to  tell  the  tale,  it  will 
he  admitted  that 
stranger  things  hap- 
pen in  the  realm  of 
fact  than  in  the  region 
of  fiction. 

Jacob  Cook,  Peter 
Shannon,  and  W. 
Snyder  are  three 
ordinary-looking 
mortals  who  pass  the 
greater  part  of  their 
time  attending  to  the 
wants  of  wild  animals 
and   treacherous    rep- 

Vol.  xiv.— 23. 


THE   THREE    KEEPERS    WHO    FOUGHT    THE    I'VTIIONS— THEIR    NAMES,  READING    FROM    1.EI  IHT,  AR 

W.    SNYDER,    lACOl)   COOK,    AND    PETER    SHANNON.  \feirce  O^JOtUS. 


From  a  Photo,  by] 


178 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


for  so  many  years  that  they  have  grown  indiffer- 
ent to  the  fact  that  in  the  hearts  of  the  caged 
creatures  there  lies — dormant,  it  is  true,  but 
nevertheless  existent  —  a  vindictive  spirit  of 
hatred  towards  their  gaolers  that  only  awaits  a 
fitting  opportunity  to  flame  out.  This  indiffer- 
ence has  led  to  many  an  animal-trainer  meeting 
his  fate  in  the  ring,  and  it  very  nearly  caused 
three  vacancies  in  the  roll  of  Central  Park 
keepers. 

The  other  three  characters  in  the  exciting 
scene  enacted  at 
Central  Park  were 
the  f  a  m  i  1  y  of 
pythons  that  re- 
pose in  the  big 
glass  cage  at  the 
Central  Park  Zoo. 
Usually  these 
great  snakes  lie 
about  their  cage 
in  sleepy  indiffer- 
ence to  their  sur- 
roundings, bestir- 
ring themselves 
only  during  feed- 
ing-time. Dinner 
disposed  of,  they 
coil  up  and  bury 
their  heads  in  their 
voluminous  folds. 
In  reality,  as  the 
three  keepers 
found  to  their 
cost,  this  lethargic 
disregard  for  ex- 
traneous things 
veils  a  ferocious 
spirit  that  seldom 
sleeps. 

The  three  big 
snakes  had  been 
ailing.  The  keepers 
could  not  tell  Tt 
what  was  amiss, 
but  reptiles  of 
such  value  are  never 
selves    to    death. 


PYTHONS     CAGE    IN    THE    ZOOLOGICAL  GARDEN,    CENTRAL    PARK,    NEW 
WHERE   THE    BATTLE   WITH    THE   SNAKES   TOOK    PLACE. 

From  a  V/ioto.  by  Pcirce  &*  Jones. 


allowed  to  pine  them- 
The  case  was  reported  to 
the  manager  of  the  Zoo,  and  it  was  determined 
to  administer  medicine  to  the  snakes  with  a 
view  to  stirring  them  into  life  and  health  again. 
Cook,  Shannon,  and  Snyder  were  detailed  to 
give  the  pythons  their  dosing. 

It  is  no  easy  matter  to  administer  physic  to 
any  animal.  The  keepers  have  trouble  enough 
to  force  an  ailing  monkey  to  take  medicine. 
But  a  twelve-foot  snake !  That  was  not  a 
proposition  to  be  lightly  approached. 

The  three  keepers  entered  the  cage  in  which 


the  snakes  were  apparently  sleeping.  The 
entrance  was  from  the  rear  of  the  cage,  the  front 
being  of  thick  glass  for  the  convenience  of  the 
curious  throngs  that  gather  daily  to  stare  at  the 
great  reptiles.  When  the  last  of  the  trio  had 
entered  the  door  was  closed  and  locked  to  pre- 
vent anyone  unaware  of  the  presence  of  the 
keepers  opening  it  and  allowing  the  snakes  to 
escape.  The  men  gave  no  thought  to  their  own 
safety.  They  had  handled  snakes  too  often  to 
deem  it  necessary  to  leave  a  way  of  retreat  open 

behind  them. 

One  of  the  men 
carried  the  medi- 
cine, made  up 
roughly  in  a  pail, 
about  two  quarts 
in  all,  for  medi- 
cine is  a  long  time 
permeating  the  in- 
ternal economy  of 
a  python,  and  it  is 
necessary  to  ad- 
minister a  big  dose 
while  about  it. 
The  instrument  by 
means  of  which 
the  men  hoped  to 
dose  the  patients 
successfully  was  a 
big  syringe,  which 
had  figured  in 
many  a  similar 
scene  in  the  vari- 
ous animal  houses 
at  the  Zoo. 

The  snakes,  as 
I  have  already 
said,  were,  to  all 
appearances, 
quietly  sleeping 
when  the  men  en- 
tered. Two  were 
coiled  in  indistin- 
guishable folds 
around  the  upper 
part  of  an  artificial  tree  that  reached  to  the  roof 
of  the  cage  ;  the  other  lay  in  a  heap  on  the  floor. 
The  keepers  set  their  paraphernalia  down  on 
the  floor  of  the  cage  and  discussed  the  question 
of  which  snake  should  be  the  first  victim.  It 
was  decided  that  the  quiet-looking  fellow  on  the 
floor  should  be  dosed  first. 

All  snake-handlers  adopt  the  same  safe 
method  of  holding  the  reptiles.  The  snake  is 
grasped  by  the  neck,  as  close  to  the  head  as 
possible,  and  held  in  a  grip  of  steel.  If  the 
reptile  is  only  a  small  fellow,  say  three  feet  or  so 
long,  it  is  easy  enough  to  hold  him  in  this  way, 


\ 


mem 


m*mmmmm& 


A    BATTLE    FOR    LIFE    WITH    PYTHONS. 


179 


for,  while  the  tail  will  thrash  around  wildly  and 
seek  to  retaliate  on  the  tormentor,  it  can  do  no 
harm  so  long  as  the  head  is  held  firmly.  With 
a  twelve-foot  python,  however,  it  is  different, 
and  sometimes  as  many  as  a  dozen  men  are 
required  to  hold  the  tremendous  body  ;  other- 
wise the  individual  grasping  the  neck  would  be 
upset  and  in  his  turn  seized  in  a  terrible  grip. 
In  the  case  of  the  sleeping  python  to  whom  the 


about  to  crush  the  scaly  neck  between  his 
strong  fingers  the  snake  shot  out  its  head  with 
the  speed  of  lightning,  and,  instead  of  grasping 
its  neck,  Cook  seized  the  squirming  body  fully 
a  foot  from  the  spot  he  had  intended  to 
encircle.  Before  the  keeper  could  get  a  fresh 
grip  the  wicked-looking  head  curled  swiftly  back- 
ward and  the  huge  jaws  closed  on  the  man's 
hand  !     Then  began  a  battle  grim  and  deadly. 


UK    TIIIKU    KEKI'EU    SPRANG    Hl'KNIKDLY   T( 


medicine  was  to  be  administered,  it  was  thought 
that  the  three  men  could  control  him,  and  while 
one  held  the  syringe  filled  with  medicine,  ready 
to  dose  the  creature  as  soon  as  his  mouth  had 
been  forced  open,  the  other  two  reached  down 
in  the  great  folds  for  the  snake's  head. 

All  might  have  been  well  had  Cook,  who  was 
to  seize  the  reptile's  head,  fastened  his  fingers 
on  the  right  spot.  Unfortunately,  however,  the 
keeper  underestimated  the  ability  of  this  par- 
ticular python  to  move  quickly.     Just  as  he  was 


Dropping  the  syringe  and  pail,  the  third 
keeper  sprang  hurriedly  to  his  comrades' 
assistance.  First  they  seized  the  head  of  the 
snake  and  tried  in  vain  to  prise  open  the  great 
jaws.  But  once  a  python  has  fastened  its  grip 
on  an  intended  victim  it  is  almost  useless  to  try 
and  force  it  to  let  go.  The  efforts  of  the  three 
men  only  resulted  in  the  teeth  of  the  great  snake 
being  sunk  still  deeper  into  the  quivering  flesh 
of  the  imprisoned  hand.  Cook  was  yelling  and 
dancing  with  pain,  and  meanwhile  eleven  feet  of 


i8o 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


able-bodied  python  reached  out  -for  some- 
thing to  coil  round,  preliminary  to  the  crushing 
process.  Cook,  who  had  had  more  experience 
with  snakes  than  the  other  two,  retained  his 
presence  of  mind,  despite  the  agony  of  his 
wound. 

"  Look  to  the 
tail !  "  he  yelled 
to  the  excited 
men,  who  were 
trying  to  force 
open  the  snake's 
jaws.  "Hold 
him  so  that  he 
can't  coil ! " 

The  warning 
came  not  a 
second  too  soon, 
for  the  snake 
had  begun  to 
wind  its  sinuous 
length  around 
the  keeper's  leg, 
and  in  another 
moment  would  have  completely  enveloped  him 
in  its  folds.  Just  in  time  Snyder  seized  the 
whirling  tail,  gripped  it  in  both  hands,  and 
dragged  it  by  main  force  away  from  the  keeper 
whose  hand  was  imprisoned. 

Meanwhile  Shannon  picked  up  the  syringe, 
the  only  thing  ap- 
proaching a  weapon 
in  the  cage,  and  with 
its  pointed  nozzle 
tried  to  prise  open 
the  jaws  of  the 
python.  Cook,  cool 
and  plucky,  assisted 
him  with  his  disen- 
gaged hand,  and  be- 
tween them  they  at 
last  forced  the  en- 
raged snake  to  re- 
lease his  hold.  With 
his  hand  streaming 
with  blood  Cook 
stoically  turned  to 
his  unfinished  work 
and  picked  up  the 
syringe  with  the  idea 
of  completing  the  job 
in  hand  by  admin- 
istering the  medi- 
cine. This  time  he 
seized  the  snake  by 

the  neck,  as  he  should  have  done  in  the  first 
place,  and  despite  the  furious  struggles  of  the 
now  thoroughly  aroused  python  it  looked  as 
though    the   medicine  would   go   down.       But 


THE   HUGE    PYTHON   THAT   SEIZED    KEEPER   COOK  S    HAND. 

From  a  Photo,  by  Peirce  &*  Jones. 


A    PHOTOGRAPH    SHOWING   THE    SIZE   Op     A     PYTHONS  JAWS    AND   THE    ROWS 

From  a  Photo,  by]  of  curved  teeth.  [Peirce  &>*  Jones. 


suddenly  a  diversion  was  created  in  favour  of 
the  snake,  and  a  new  and  terrible  peril  con- 
fronted the  three  keepers.  The  first  warning 
came  in  the  shape  of  a  quick  exclamation  from 
Snyder,  who  was  trying  to  control  the  muscular 

contortions  of 
the  rear  end  of 
the  huge  reptile. 
"Look  out 
for  'Queen' 
and  'Soldier'!" 
was  the  warning 
cry  of  Snyder. 

The  other  two 
keepers  knew 
too  well  the  ter- 
rible import  of 
that  seemingly 
innocent  expres- 
sion. "  Queen  " 
and  "  Soldier  " 
were  the  names 
of  the  other  two 
great  snakes, 
who,  during  the  fracas  with  their  companion, 
had  been  left  sleeping  in  the  limb  of  the 
artificial  tree.  Aroused  by  the  struggle  below, 
the  two  snakes  had  slowly  uncoiled  until  their 
heads  were  within  range  of  the  battle-ground. 
At  first  they  remained  passive  spectators  of  the 

furious  contest,  but 
by  degrees  it  seemed 
as  if  the  excitement 
below  stirred  their 
sluggish  blood  into 
action,  and,  when 
the  warning  cry  of 
the  keeper  reached 
his  fellows,  the  two 
eye-witnesses  of  the 
combat  were  begin- 
ning to  glide  down 
the  limb  of  the  tree, 
evidently  with  the 
firm  intention  of 
joining  in  the  fight ! 
Just  imagine  for 
yourself  the  awful 
predicament  of  the 
three  men  !  The 
general  public  had 
long  ago  been  ex- 
cluded from  the 
snake-house,  so  that 
no  possibility  existed 
of  assistance  coming.  From  that  glass  cage  no 
cries  for  help  could  reach  the  outer  world.  To 
unlock  the  door  was  not  to  be  thought  of,  for  it 
taxed  the  united  strength  of  the  three  men  to 


A    BATTLE    FOR    LIFE    WITH    PYTHONS. 


181 


hold  the  vicious  reptile  that  had  bitten  Cook. 
And  here  were  two  more,  equally  vindictive  and 
powerful,  coining  to  take  part  in  the  struggle  ! 

In  such  dire  extremities,  men  of  the  mould  of 
these  three  act  quickly.  Stooping  to  where  the 
keepers  had  thrown  their  coats  on  entering  the 
cage,  Cook  picked  up  his  "jumper,"  the  light 
jacket  worn  by  the  men  when  at  work.  Dangling 
this  in  front  of  the  extended  jaws  of  the  snake 
which  he  held  by  the  neck,  Cook  sought  to 
tempt  it  to  strike  at  the  garment.  The  ruse 
succeeded,  for  the  snake,  maddened  by  the 
treatment  he  had  received,  would  have  struck 
at  his  own  coils  in  the  absence  of  anything  else 
to  vent  his  rage  upon.  The  jaws,  with  their  six 
rows  of  pointed  teeth,  closed 
upon  the  innocent  "jumper," 
and  were  hopelessly  entangled 
in  the  cloth. 

A  python's  teeth  have  been 
likened  to  fish-hooks.  They 
bend  inward,  and  are  arranged 
in  rows  in  the  upper  and  lower 
jaws,  so  that  anything  they 
close  upon  stands  as  much 
chance  of  being  released  as 
though  caught  in  a  steel  trap. 
The  worst  of  the  three  pythons 
was,  for  a  time  at  least,  placed 
hors  de  combat,  for  only  by 
long  and  patient  work  could 
he  hope  to  disengage  his  in- 
numerable teeth  from  the  en- 
tangling threads  of  the  gar- 
ment. But  even  when  handi- 
capped in  this  way  he  was  a 
formidable  opponent  enough, 
for  his  great  body  whirled 
furiously  around  the  cage  in 
savage  efforts  to  free  himself 
from  the  coat.  With  this 
enemy  constantly  threatening 
them  the  three  keepers  were 
forced  to  turn  and  confront 
the  other  two  reptiles,  which 
were  now  winding  their  way 
down  the  tree  with  the  grim 
persistence  of  fate. 

This  time  the  fight  resolved 
itself  into  the  very  unequal 
one  of  three  men,  without  a 
weapon,  opposed  to  three  great 
snakes,  only  one  of  which  was 
partially  disabled.  Cook's 
clever  trick  had  inspired  the 
men  with  hope.  Each  seized 
a  coat  and  advanced  on  the 
pythons  that  were  wriggling 
their  way  down  the  tree. 


These  two  proved  much  more  wary  fighters. 
They  had  not  been  wrought  up  to  a  pitch  of 
frenzy,  as  had  the  first  snake  tackled,  and  the 
blind  fury  that  would  cause  them  to  strike  at 
anything  placed  in  their  way  was  lacking. 

It  was  all  the  keepers  could  do  to  protect  their 
throats  from  the  needle-like  teeth  of  the  two 
snakes.  "Queen"  and  "Soldier"  fought  with 
the  cunning  and  skill  of  old  combatants. 
Like  lightning  they  darted  their  heads  over 
or  around  the  outstretched  coats,  always 
striving  to  reach  the  men.  With  a  third  of 
their  lengths  firmly  coiled  around  the  tree,  the 
two  pythons  allowed  the  upper  part  of  their 
bodies  to  wave  freely  in  the  air,  ready  to  retreat 


QUEEN  '  AND  '  SOLDIER  '  FOUGHT    WITH    THE   CUN 


l82 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


or  attack  as  opportunity  offered.  All  attempts 
to  envelop  the  terrible  heads  failed,  for  the 
snakes  quickly  withdrew  to  the  tree,  shooting 
out  their  squirming  bodies  directly  the  men 
hesitated.  It  was  a  perilous  game  to  play,  and 
the  three  men  began  to  despair  of  escaping  alive 
from  the  cage. 

Not  for  a  fraction  of  a  second,  however,  did 
they  give  up  the  fight.  Not  a  shadow  of  a 
chance  did  the  snakes  have  to  penetrate  the 
improvised  shields  and  fasten  their  fangs  in  the 
men's  throats.  Quick  as  the  pythons'  move- 
ments were,  those  of  the  keepers  were  quicker. 
Each  time  a  head  shot  out  to  strike,  the  coats 
intervened  and  forced  the  baffled  snake  to  with- 
draw to  the  tree. 

But  for  the  enraged  reptile  whirling  around  the 
floor  in  fruitless  efforts  to  disengage  itself  from 
the  "jumper  "  that  was  choking  it  the  three  might 
have  kept  up  their  fight  until  help  came  in  the 
natural  order  of  things.  Absorbed  in  the  con- 
test with  the  two  big  snakes  in  the  tree  the 
men  had  taken  no  notice  of  the  one  they  had 
incapacitated,  as  they  thought,  from  harm.  In 
its  wild  gyrations  around  the  narrow  cage,  this 
python  wound  and  unwound  its  coils,  gripping 
with  its  prehensile  tail  anything  that  came  in 
the  way,  dragging  its  length  along  the  floor  in  a 
wild  effort  to  force  the  "jumper"  from  its  mouth 
and  lashing  out  in  a  frenzy  in  every  direction. 
During  one  of  its  periodical  whirls  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  fight  around  the  tree  this  furious 
snake  caught  blindly  at  the  outstretched  leg  of 
Keeper  Snyder  and  curled  around  it  like  a  band 
of  steel. 

Snyder  was  upset  in  an  instant,  his  leg 
crushed  and  almost  broken  as  the  snake,  feeling 
that  at  last  it  had  something  living  in  its  grasp, 
tightened  its  grip  and  constricted  its  muscles. 
It  was  fortunate  for  the  keeper  that  the  snake 
only  had  him  with  the  weaker  end  of  its  length, 
while  the  terrible  teeth  were  entangled  beyond 
harm.  A  python  can  crush  the  ribs  of  an  ox 
beneath  its  folds,  but  to  do  so  it  must  have  a 
good  grip  on  a  branch  of  a  tree  or  some  im- 
movable object,  so  as  to  acquire  the  necessary 
leverage.  In  its  excited  struggles  with  the 
irritating  coat  the  python  had  no  time  for  a 
concentrated  attack  on  the  man  who  had 
accidentally  fallen  into  its  clutches,  and  the  grip 
on  Snyder  was  therefore  limited  to  the  force 
exerted  mechanically  by  the  few  feet  of  tail  that 
enveloped  his  leg. 

Snyder  struggled  desperately  to  release  his  leg 
from  the  unyielding  spiral  trap  in  which  it  was 
fixed,  and  at  that  moment  "Soldier"  saw  his 
chance. 

Cook  and  Shannon  had  their  hands  full  with 
"Queen,"   who   was   attacking   them   with   the 


vigour  and  viciousness  of  half-a-dozen  snakes. 
Quick  as  a  flash  "Soldier"  glided  down  the 
tree.  Alert  to  his  danger,  Snyder  had  kept  one 
eye  on  the  general  combat  while  trying  to  free 
his  leg.  He  saw  his  peril  not  a  second  too  soon. 
"  Soldier "  had  raised  his  head,  with  jaws 
extended,  eyes  glaring  balefully,  and  the  six  rows 
of  teeth  in  terrible  evidence,  prepared  to  strike 
at  the  face  of  the  prostrate  man  ! 

There  was  no  time  for  a  shout  or  a  second's 
hesitation.  The  one  single  thing  that  Snyder 
could  have  done  he  did.  In  talking  about  it 
afterwards  he  says  he  does  not  remember  the 
thought  coming  into  his  head.  The  action  was 
as  purely  mechanical  as  the  unconscious  move- 
ment of  a  finger.  With  the  snake's  forked 
tongue  within  a  few  inches  of  his  face,  and 
death  seemingly  certain,  Snyder — who  had  been 
chewing  tobacco  when  he  entered  the  cage  and 
still  retained  a  huge  quid  in  his  mouth- 
suddenly  ejected  a  great  stream  of  tobacco-juice 
full  in  the  lidless  eyes  of  the  python  ! 

The  snake  recoiled  before  that  stinging 
volley  of  nicotine  as  though  a  lightning-bolt  had 
struck  it.  Writhing  with  pain,  as  the  acrid  fluid 
ate  its  way  into  his  eyes,  "  Soldier  "  retreated  to 
the  tree,  made  his  way  to  the  top  in  a  second, 
and  lay  there,  opening  and  closing  his  spiral  coils 
and  rubbing  his  head  against  the  bark  and 
against  his  own  folds  in  an  anguished  effort  to 
relieve  the  agonizing  pain.  But  the  more  he 
rubbed  the  worse  grew  the  smarting,  and  there 
"  Soldier  "  lay,  with  all  the  fight  knocked  out 
of  him.  From  that  time  onward  he  was  as 
completely  out  of  the  fight  as  though  outside 
the  cage.  It  was  days  before  he  finally  recovered 
his  spirits  and  looked  the  world  in  the  face  again 
with  his  usual  baleful  glare. 

Snyder,  relieved  of  the  peril  that  threatened 
him,  turned  his  attention  again  to  the  snaky 
folds  that  encompassed  his  leg.  With  a  pro- 
digious effort  he  at  last  succeeded  in  tearing 
loose  the  grip  of  those  encircling  coils.  Practi- 
cally two  of  the  snakes  had  now  been  dis- 
comfited in  the  struggle  and  only  the  agile 
"  Queen  "  was  left  to  carry  on  the  fight. 

The  three  men  were  by  this  time  becoming 
weak  from  their  exertions  in  the  confined 
space  of  the  stuffy  cage.  The  fight  had  been 
going  on  for  nearly  half  an  hour  without  a 
moment's  respite.  The  python  that  still 
remained  a  combatant,  however,  showed  no 
sign  of  weariness. 

Collecting  their  forces  around  the  single 
remaining  enemy  the  keepers  tried  to  attack  it 
on  all  sides  simultaneously,  hoping  to  envelop 
the  head  in  one  of  the  coats.  But  "Queen" 
was  equal  to  every  emergency.  It  seemed  to 
the  astonished  keepers  that  the  great  brute  was 


A  BATTLE  FOR   LIFE   WITH  PYTHONS. 


183 


hydra-headed,  for  turn  which  way  they  would 
there  were  *'  Queen's  "  jaws  extended  to  strike 
at  anything  that  promised  to  be  flesh  and  blood. 
It  might  have  been  possible  for  the  keepers 
at  this  stage  to  disengage  one  of  their  number 
to  retire  from  the  cage  and  summon  assistance, 


For  a  moment  he  lay  still,  as  though 
puzzled  to  know  what  this  blow  from  a  new 
quarter  meant.  Then,  gathering  his  coils  to- 
gether, and  with  the  "  jumper  "  trailing  from  his 
mouth  like  a  flag  of  di>tros,  he  started  to  climb 
the  tree.    He  had  not  gone  far  before  he  reached 


HE   SAW    HIS    PERIL   NOT   A   SECOND   TOO    SOON 


but  they  said  afterwards  that  such  a  thought 
never  entered  their  heads.  The  fighting  spirit 
had  taken  possession  of  them,  and,  weak,  tired, 
and  wounded  as  they  were,  they  were  deter- 
mined not  only  to  subdue  the  last  of  their 
enemies  before  they  left  the  cage,  but  to 
administer  the  medicine. 

Strange  to  say,  it  was  through  the  action  of 
one  of  the  snakes  that  the  end  came.  In  one 
of  his  blind  dashes  round  the  cage  the  ferocious 
reptile  that  had  been  entangled  in  the  "jumper," 
and  which  had  so  nearly  caused  Snyder  to 
succumb,  came  in  violent  contact  with  the  trunk 
of  the  tree  around  which  the   fight  was  raging. 


that  part  of  the  trunk  where  "  Queen,"  tightly 
coiled,  was  meeting  all  comers  with  a  dauntless 
front.  Slowly  winding  his  way  up  the  trunk, 
enveloping  "  Queen "  as  he  went,  the  third 
snake  gradually  encumbered  the  fighting  python 
with  his  coils  until  its  striking  range  was  circum- 
scribed to  within  about  four  feet  of  the  tree. 

Seeing  their  opportunity,  the  three  keepers 
closed  in  on  the  imprisoned  "Queen,"  while 
that  valiant  snake  made  a  last  desperate  attempt 
to  free  herself  from  the  embrace  of  her  wriggling 
companion.  The  third  snake,  its  last  atom  of 
sense  gone  in  the  struggle  with  the  "jumper," 
only  tightened  its  folds  the  more  as  "Queen" 


1 84 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


tried  to  free  herself,  and  the  two 
became  firmly  locked  in  a  twisted 
knot  of  coils  that  wound  round 
and  round  the  tree  trunk.  This 
was  plainly  the  keepers'  chance, 
and  with  coats  held  at  arm's 
length  they  descended  upon  the 
hapless  "  Queen."  She  was  game 
to  the  last.  Seeing  that  the 
men  had  victory  within  their 
reach,  the  python  turned  in  a 
frenzy  of  rage  upon  the  innocent 
cause  of  her  vanquish ment,  and 
struck  again  and  again  at  the 
snake  that  enveloped  her.  It  is 
as  likely  as  not  that  the  jaws  of 
the  enraged  snake  would  have 
closed  on  her  own  folds  in  her 
blind  anger,  but  at  each  effort  the 
keepers,  taught  to  regard  the  rep- 
tiles as  the  most  valuable  pos- 
session of  the  menagerie,  to  be 
guarded  from  harm  at  all  costs, 
interposed  their  coats  between 
the  snake  and  the  object  of  her 
fury. 

During  one  of  the  intervals 
between  the  repeated  attacks  of 
"  Queen  "  on  her  blundering  asso- 
ciate, Cook  succeeded  in  grasping 
the  snake's  head.  This  time  he 
made  no  mistake  in  the  selection 
of  the  spot.  The  snake  was  grip- 
ped with  practised  hand,  quickly 
unwound  from  the  tree  by  the  three 
keepers,  and  thrown  into  the  water- 
tank,  where  she  lay  quite  still, 
apparently  satisfied  to  rest  on  her 
laurels. 

The  men  sat  down  and  mopped 
their  streaming  faces.     In  a  fight 
the  equal  of  which,   perhaps,  has 
never  been  known,  they  had  secured  the  victory. 
But  they  were  not  satisfied.     Having  subdued 
the  snakes,  they  were  determined  to  administer 
the  medicine  ;  and  administer  it  they  did. 

"Queen,"  as  the  most  dangerous  of  the  three, 
was  left  until  the  last.  The  snake  entangled  in 
the  "jumper"  was  secured,  its  teeth  released 
from  the  garment,  and  the  nozzle  of  the  syringe 
forced  between  its  jaws.  Then  a  full  dose  of 
medicine  was  administered  to  the  python,  and 
he  was  left  to  pursue  his  disgusted  way  to  the 
retreat  at  the  top  of  the  trunk.  The  fellow  in  the 
tree— he  of  the  nicotine  volley — was  approached 
cautiously  and  found  to  be  still  blinded  by  his 
treatment.  He  was  seized  and  dosed  like  his  com- 


THE    KEEPERS    INTERPOSED   THEIR   COATS    BETWEEN    THE    SNAKE    AND   THE 
OBJECT   OF    HER    FURY." 


panion  and  allowed  to  climb  painfully  to  his  perch. 
Finally  "Queen"  was  tackled  in  the  tank,  dragged 
out  by  the  neck,  given  the  contents  of  the 
syringe,  and  allowed  to  plunge  sullenly  into  the 
water  again,  to  nurse  her  anger  in  retirement. 

Not  till  then  did  the  three  indomitable 
keepers  leave  the  cage  and  report  their  expe- 
riences at  the  office.  Two — Shannon  and 
Snyder — were  able  to  go  about  their  work  as 
usual  the  following  day,  but  Cook  had  to  take 
his  wounded  hand  to  a  hospital  for  treat- 
ment. He  still  bears  the  marks  of  the  python's 
teeth,  and  will  carry  the  scars  to  his  grave 
as  a  memento  of  one  of  the  greatest  snake- 
fights  in  the  history  of   menageries. 


The  Fete  of  Jeanne  Hachette,  at  Beauvais. 

By  Albert  Harris. 

This  is  a  festival  in  honour  of  a  woman,  in  which  women  take  the  leading  part.  In  a  public  pro- 
cession they  precede  the  men,  according  to  Royal  enactment,  and  in  the  great  square  of  Beauvais, 
in  France,    annually    fire,    with    their  own  hands,   a  salute  of  one  hundred    guns  to    their  heroine,' 

Jeanne  Hachette,  who  saved  the  town  in  1472. 


T  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of 
Sunday,  the  26th  of  June  last,  there 
stood  in  the  great  square  of  Beau- 
vais, in  France,  a  crowd  in  black 
and  white.  The  tricolour  waved 
everywhere.  Civil  functionaries  in  black  frock- 
coats  and  hats  were  massed  indiscriminately 
with  musicians,  firemen,  and  trim  soldiers,  all 
in  earnest  conversation  and  expectant.  A  bevy 
of  pretty  girls,  clothed  in  flowing  white,  stood 


in  size,  she  is  represented  in  fighting  attitude. 
With  splendid  sweep  of  arm  she  swings  a  battle- 
axe  to  repel  the  attacking  foe,  while  her  robes, 
in  the  style  of  the  fifteenth  century,  cling  to  her 
martial  body.  As  you  enter  the  square — one  of 
the  beautiful  relics  of  mediaeval  France— from 
any  one  of  the  numerous  streets  and  alleys 
opening  upon  it,  you  note  this  monument ;  and 
if  you  were  to  ask  the  B"auvaisien  who  this 
magnificent  figure  was,  you  would  be  met  with 


SCENE   IN   THE    fJHEAT    SQUARE   OF    BEAUVAIS.   ON   THE   OPENING    DAY   OF    THE    FETE.      THE    MONUMENT   OF    JEANNE    HACHETTE 

From  a  Photo,  by]  stands  in  the  centre.  [Multot,  Beauvais. 


near  by  with  flowers  and  banners,  and  in  the 
windows  and  balconies  of  the  surrounding  shops 
and  cafes — even  on  the  roofs  thereof — large 
numbers  of  spectators  were  gathered  to  witness 
the  coming  show.  The  scene  was  one  of 
brilliancy.  Beauvais  had  wakened  from  its 
yearly  lethargy  to  pay  tribute  to  its  heroine, 
Jeanne  Hachette. 

Conspicuously   in    the   centre   of    the    great 
square  stands  the  statue  of  this  woman.    Heroic 

Vol.  xiv.— 24, 


lifted  eyebrows,  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders,  and 
the  simple  words,  "  That,  monsieur,  is  noire 
Jeanne." 

The  name  awakes  a  flood  of  recollections, 
with  which  ancient  Beauvais  is  eternally  associ- 
ated. It  ebbs  back  to  the  turbulent  days  when 
battles  were  fought,  not  with  Mausers  and 
Maxims,  but  with  spears  and  axes  ;  when 
towns  and  villages  were  ever  prepared  for 
sudden   surprise,  and  farmers  and  shopkeepers 


i86 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


— both  men  and  women  — seized  the  nearest 
weapon  of  defence  and  rushed  off  to  meet 
impending  danger. 

Jeanne  Hachette  was  moulded  of  this  sterling 
stuff.  When  Charles  the  Bold,  after  his 
differences  with  Louis  XL,  made  a  surprise 
attack  upon  the  ramparts  of  Beauvais,  it  was  she 
who  saved  the  town.  At  the  head  of  a  troop  of 
women  and  chil- 
dren she  aided 
in  beating  off  the 
besiegers  with 
stones  and  axes, 
and  herself  so 
skilfully  wielded 
the  axe  that  her 
real  name  of 
L  a  i  s  n  e  was 
quickly  forgotten 
in  the  honoured 
surname  of 
Hachette.  With 
her  home-made 
weapon  she  cap- 
tured the  Bur- 
gundian  flag, 
killed  the  bearer 
of  it,  and,  to  the 
discomfiture  of 
Charles,  carried 
it  to  the  Chapel 
of  Sainte  Anga- 
dreme,  the  pat- 
roness of  the 
town.  Although 
this  heroic 
woman  took  no 
further  part  in 
the  siege,  she 
had  effectually 
prevented  the 
invasion  of 
Northern  France 
and  made  safe  the  entry  of  Louis  to  the  town. 

The  cold  heart  of  the  King  was  warmed  by 
the  news  from  Beauvais,  and  he  quickly  showed 
his  gratitude.  Among  other  things  he  granted 
to  the  citizens  exemption  from  certain  services 
and  from  all  R  yal  taxes  and  imposts  in  the 
future.  In  regard  to  the  women,  they  were 
privileged  henceforth,  in  all  religious  pro- 
cessions, to  walk  before  the  men  and  imme- 
diately behind  the  clergy,  "  to  enjoy,"  so  the 
grant  ran,  "  the  right  to  dispose  of  their  hand  as 
they  saw  fit  .  .  .  to  wear  on  and  after  their 
wedding-day  whatever  garments  or  ornaments 
they  should  like,  unamenable  to  any  sumptuary 
laws  then  or  thereafter  to  be  enacted."  It  was 
further  ordered  that  a  procession  should  be  held 


THE     RELIGIOUS     PROCESSION 

From  a  Photo,  by} 


lERGiNr; 

THE 


yearly  on  the  festival  of  Sainte  Angadreme,  to 
whom  the  King  presented  a  silver  statue  of 
herself;  and  that  the  Burgundian  flag,  taken 
by  Jeanne  Hachette,  should  be  preserved  in  the 
cathedral  as  a  memorial  of  her  heroism. 

The  passing  of  time  has  brought  many  changes 
in  the  anniversary  celebrations.  At  first  there 
were  two  processions,  religious  and  civil,   held 

on  d  i  f fe  rent 
dates,  but  these 
have  narrowed 
down  to  one,  in 
which  the 
heroine  is  more 
widely  honoured 
than  the  saint. 
In  June  of  this 
year  enormous 
yellow  placards 
posted  on  the 
m  oss- marked 
walls  of  Beau- 
vais informed  the 
public  that  "on 
Sunday,  the  26th 
of  June,  will  take 
place  at  three 
o'clock,  in  the 
square  of  the 
Hotel  de  Ville, 
the  ceremony  of 
the  Fe  te  d  c 
VAssaitt,  com- 
memorative of 
the  siege  sus- 
tained by  thecity 
in  1472,  in  which 
the  civil,  mili- 
tary, and  religi- 
ous authorities 
will  take  part." 
Theplacardsalso 
announced  that 
on  Saturday  evening  and  on  Sunday  morning 
salvoes  of  artillery  and  the  striking  of  the  town 
clock  would  announce  the  opening  of  the 
festival. 

On  ordinary  days  the  square  is  practically 
empty  except  for  occasional  sales  of  market 
products,  but  towards  the  end  of  June  assumes 
a  gala  appearance.  Flags  hang  from  the 
windows  of  the  neighbouring  taverns  and 
bazaars,  the  different  buildings  vying  with  each 
other  in  their  display  of  the  bunting.  The  pave- 
ment and  red  earth  of  the  square  are  swept,  the 
lamps  are  polished,  and  the  statue  itself  is  well 
cleaned.  A  busy  gang  of  carpenters  makes  the 
place  noisy  in  the  erection  of  a  grand  stand  in 
front  of  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  situated  at  one  end 


FROM     THE     CATHEDRAL     ON      ITS     WAY     TO 

square.  {Mullot,  Beauvais. 


THE    FETE    OF    JEANNE    HACHETTE,    AT    BEAUVAIS. 


187 


of  the  rectangular  plot  of  ground  in  which  the 
statue  rests,  and  a  few  days  later  painted  signs 
upon  the  backs  of  seats  give  the  prices  for  the 
accommodation  of  the  public.  The  cafes  lay  in 
large  supplies  of  coffee  and  spirits,  in  full  pre- 
paration for  the  approaching  festival.  Business 
moves  as  briskly  as  is  possible  in  a  state  of 
subdued  excitement,  and  waiters  dream  of 
pockets  full  of  sous. 

Year  after  year  the  ceremony  proceeds  along 
stated  lines.  Shortly  before  three  o'clock  the 
Mayor  and  other  civil  functionaries  of  Beauvais 
meet  with  the  Prefect,  deputies,  and  other 
political  personages  in  the  Hotel  de  Ville, 
waiting  for  the  bishop  and  the  religious  pro- 
cession to  march  from  the  cathedral  to  the 
square,   it   being  the   custom    for  those   in    the 


streets,  under  gabled  windows  which  suggest 
their  Flemish  origin,  this  banner  is  honoured 
with  bared  heads. 

The  route  is  short,  and  in  the  past  the  pro- 
cession has  been  well  timed  to  arrive  at  its 
destination  promptly.  This  year,  however,  a 
hitch  occurred  which  threatened  disaster  to 
the  ceremony.  France,  as  we  know,  is  in 
a  troubled  state  of  feeling  regarding  the 
Church,  and  the  estrangement  between  it  ami 
officialdom  is  great.  Even  in  Beauvais  tin-  air 
has  been  a  little  heated.  It  was  no  surprise, 
then,  for  the  officials  at  the  Hotel  de  Ville  to 
find  the  hour  of  three  ready  to  strike,  with  no 
sign  of  the  religious  procession,  which  should 
now  have  been  approaching.  Some  heated 
words    were    passed    between    the    Prefect  and 


THE    PROCESSION    MAKING    ITS    WAY    AKOUNI)   THE    SQUARE   TO 

From  a  Photo,  by  Mullot,  Beauvais. 


THE    MONUMENT. 


town-hall  at  the  appointed  hour  of  three  to 
proceed  to  the  statue,  and  there,  in  conjunction 
with  the  clerics,  to  carry  out  the  common  pro- 
gramme. In  the  religious  procession  is  carried 
the  reliquary  of  Sainte  Angadreme,  borne  on 
the  shoulders  of  four  stalwart  women  in  black, 
led  and  followed  by  numerous  maidens  clothed 
throughout  in  white.  It  is  a  pretty  sight,  this 
departure  from  the  cathedral.  The  procession 
takes  its  way  towards  the  square,  followed  by 
fifty  or  sixty  dainty  little  children,  likewise  in 
white,  of  whom  one  group  escorts  the  famous 
standard  of  the  Burgundians.  As  if  it  were 
May  Day,  the  children  support  the  staff  of  this 
decaying  flag  by  long  white  streamers,  and  thus 
save  it  from  untoward  accident.  As  the  pro- 
cession  wends   its    way    through    the    narrow 


the  Mayor,  messengers  were  dispatched  post- 
haste to  find  the  reason  for  delay,  and  were 
met  on  the  steps  of  the  cathedral  with  a  hint 
that  it  was  the  duty  of  the  civil  authorities  to 
wait  upon  the  Church.  As  it  happened,  the 
bishop  was  forty  minutes  late  in  arriving  at  the 
statue,  somewhat  to  the  discomfiture  of  the 
public.  Fortunately,  the  differences  between 
Church  and  State  were  in  the  ensuing  hour 
forgotten,  for  both  remembered  their  duty  to 
the  immortal  peasant  woman  of  Beauvais. 

In  our  illustrations  we  see  this  procession  in 
its  various  stages — the  maidens  under  the  church 
portal  with  their  holy  burden,  the  cortege  with 
banners  passing  through  the  square,  followed  by 
the  little  children,  and  the  detail  of  the  charming 
group    of    }ittle    ones    who    bore    the   historii 


i88 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


THE    FAMOUS   STANDARD   OF    JEANNE    HACHETTE,    CARRIED 
From  a  Photo,  by  Bermrat,  Beauvais 

standard.  By  the  time  the  procession  had 
reached  the  statue  the  bishop  and  his  suite  had 
taken  their  places  in  a  prominent  part  of  the 
grand  stand  in  front  of  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  and 
the  clergy  in  full  robes  had  lined  up  on  one  side 
of  the  square.  Those  who  could  afford  to  pay 
for  seats  behind  the  guns  were  accommodated 
on  the  benches  near  the  bishop. 


With  these  guns  we 
enter  upon  the  most 
important  stage  in  the 
jete  of  Jeanne  Ha- 
chette.  The  night  be- 
fore these  little  cannon, 
by  the  hand  of  man, 
had  roused  the  inhabi- 
tants to  a  knowledge, 
if  they  needed  any, 
that  the  great  festival 
had  begun.  To-day 
they  were  fired  off  by 
the  hands  of  fair 
women.  According 
to  tradition,  a  salute 
of  one  hundred  guns 
is  always  fired  in 
honour  of  Jeanne 
Hachettc.  Each  of 
the  young  women  who, 
by  the  enactment  of 
Louis,  had  marched 
with  the  clergy  through 
the  streets  was  es- 
corted to  a  cannon 
in  the  corner  of  the  square,  and  each  in  turn 
applied  the  fuse  that  sent  thunderous  echoes 
through  the  square  and  byways  of  the  town. 
Serious  as  was  this  ceremonial,  it  yet  possessed 
some  humour.  One  pompous  individual,  who 
escorted  a  young  woman  to  the  gun,  got  his 
hands  burned  and  his  hair  singed,  which  amused 
the    crowd    greatly.       Some   of   the  girls    were 


IN    THE    1'KUCEriSION. 


From  a  Photo.  by\ 


CHILDREN    IN   THE    PROCESSION    PASSING   THROUGH    THE    SQUARE. 


\Berncrat,  Beauvais. 


THE    FETE    OF    JEANNE    HACHETTE,    AT    BEAUVAIS. 


189 


GROUPS   OF   CIVIC    DIGNITARIES,    BANDSMEN,    Mll.ITIA,    AND   YOUNG   GIRLS    NEAR   THE   STATUE   WHILE   THE   SALUTE  IS  I1EING    FIKED. 

From  a  Photo,  by  Bemerat,  Beauvais. 


nervous,  and  lengthy  explanations  as  to  the 
methods  of  gun-firing  were  entered  into,  which 
rather  delayed  the  proceedings.  But  at  last 
the  ceremony  ended.  The  last  gun  had  been 
fired  and  the  last  echo  ceased.  Honour  to 
their  heroine  had  been  punctiliously  paid  by 
the  maidens  of  Beauvais. 

Meantime  the  statue  of  Jeanne  had  been 
crowned  with  laurel  and  decorated  with  flowers, 
placed  there  by  members  of  the  local  gymnastic 
society,  who,  later  in  the  week,  held  a  grand 
exhibition.  The  statue,  we  may  add,  was  un- 
veiled on  July  6th, 
185 1,  in  the  pre- 
sence of  Louis 
Napoleon,  then 
President  of  the 
Republic,  after 
having  been  on 
exhibition  for  fif- 
teen days  in  Paris. 

At  noon  on  the 
day  when  the  Fete 
de  I'Assaut  is  held 
the  Rosier e  is 
crowned, and  pub- 
licly awarded  a 
sum  of  money  and 
a  certificate  for 
virtue,  filial  duty, 
and  faithfulness  to 
the  Church.  This 
ceremony  and  the 
procession  at  three 
o'clock  begin  a 
week  of  enjoy- 


ment and  money-making.  Concerts  are  held 
nearly  every  evening,  the  days  being  occupied 
by  various  congresses,  such  as  the  athletic 
meeting  just  mentioned,  agricultural  shows, 
bicycle  races,  and  military  parades.  These 
items  in  an  extensive  programme  appeal  mostly 
to  the  mercantile  and  sport-loving  sections  of 
the  community.  Perhaps  that  is  why  the 
women  and  girls  of  Beauvais  combine  so 
earnestly  to  make  the  opening  Sunday  a  day  so 
full  of  memory  to  themselves  and  others,  excep- 
tional in  merry-making  France. 


THE   SALUTE    IN    HONOUR    OF   JEANNE    HACHETTE,    PIKED    BV     nil'    VOUNG    WOJlEN    uF    BEAUVAIS. 

From  a  Photo,  by  Mullot,  Beauvais. 


THE    "FLYING    DUTCHMAN/* 

BEING  SOME  ADVENTURES  OF  CAPTAIN  GUSTAVUS  HANSEN,  SEAL-RAIDER. 

By  J.  Gordon  Smith,  of  Victoria,  B.C. 

The    final    instalment    of    this    interesting    series.      How   the    "  Flying  Dutchman "    undertook   a  most 

hazardous  and  romantic  enterprise— nothing  less  than  the  rescue  of  a  Russian  countess  condemned  to 

captivity  in  Kamchatka.     How  he  accomplished  his  mission  is  set  forth  below. 

IV. -THE    ABDUCTION    OF    THE    COUNTESS. 


». 


T'S    too   dangerous.       Man    alive, 
it's  as  bad  as   breaking   into  the 
Emperor's     palace,     if     we      get 
caught." 
"  Yes,   if   we  get   caught.     Why 
not  get  someone  else  to  try  it  ?  " 

They  were  Russians  who  spoke.  The  two 
were  seated  on  the  veranda  of  the  Grand  Hotel 
at  Yokohama,  looking  across  the  bund  at  the 
vessels  which  rode  within  the  breakwater,  and 
planning  to  abduct  a  countess — nothing  less. 
But  neither  would  carry  out  the  scheme  until 
they  met  Captain  Gustavus  Hansen,  of  the  little 
sealing  schooner  Adele,  at  a  resort  in  Bloodtown. 
In  the  "  Broadway  House,  by  Black  -  Eyed 
Susan "  —  so  the  signboard  described  it — 
Hansen  was  leaning  on  the  table,  with  his  eyes 
aflame,  his  whole  system  feverish  because  of  the 
bad  rum  he  had  drunk.  There  were  many 
empty  bottles  under  the  table.  He  was  in  con- 
dition to  accept  any  rash  and  daring  com- 
mission, which  is  why  he  agreed  to  abduct  a 
countess  from  Kamchatka. 

Hansen  never  learned  her  name  ;  he  never 
discovered  anything  of  her  history ;  and  when 
he  told  me  of  the  thing,  as  we  sat  on  a  drift-log 
watching  the  Indians  dig  clams  from  a  sand  beach 
at  Clayoquot,  he  could  not,  therefore,  give  me 
much  information  about  the  countess.  She  was 
tall,  like  most  Russian  women,  he  said,  a  brunette, 
and  she  smoked  those  thin  Russian  cigarettes. 
He  knew  that  much.  If  Long  Murray  and  Jack 
Haan  had  secured  their  way,  he  would  not  even 
have  known  that.  They  were  both  against  the 
scheme.  As  Murray  said,  there  was  too  much 
risk  in  it  for  what  they  got ;  and  then,  there  was 
that  matter  of  the  raiding  of  Robben  Island  in 
the  books  of  the  Governor  at  Kamchatka,  which 
might  make  it  inconvenient  to  visit  that  Far 
Eastern  Russian  colony.  Yet,  after  all,  Hansen 
had  his  way — he  usually  had — and  that  night, 
after  the  two  mysterious  Russians  had  been 
discussing  for  two  hours  with  the  "  Flying 
Dutchman"  and  his  aides,  Murray  and  Haan, 
the  crew  began  to  paint  out  the  name  of  the 
Adele  on  her  bow  and  stern  ;  they  also  painted 
a  coat  of  black  with  a  white  stripe  over  the 
green,  and  daubed  the  words  "Seifu  Maru  "  on 

Copyright,   1904,  in  the  United  States 


the  stern.  By  daylight  the  old  Adele  looked 
like  another  vessel.  No  one  would  have  recog- 
nised her  as  the  vessel  which  stole  the  pelts 
from  Robben  Island,  or  lured  the  cutter  Corwin 
to  stranding  on  a  bar  off  Alaska's  coast,  or 
pilfered  the  stored  skins  from  the  isle  which 
Behring  found.  It  was  more  convenient,  how- 
ever, that  no  one  in  Yokohama  port  should  notice 
the  change,  so  the  Seifu  Maru  was  well  down  to 
sea,  rounding  Maboe  Light,  by  dawn. 

She  was  bound  to  Kamchatka  to  abduct  a 
countess. 

Hansen  had  been  told  by  the  Russians  that 
the  woman  he  was  to  kidnap  was  nominally  a 
guest  of  the  Governor  of  Kamchatka,  but  in 
reality  a  prisoner.  He  had  learnt,  of  a  Nihilist 
meeting  at  Moscow,  of  an  indiscreet  conversa- 
tion at  a  five  o'clock  tea,  and  of  revolutionary 
literature  found  in  the  rooms  of  the  lady  by  the 
secret  police  of  the  Little  Father,  and  the 
unfortunate  countess  had  been  hurried  to 
Kamchatka.  She  would  have  been  sent  to  one 
of  the  prisons  on  Saghalien,  but  her  friends  were 
influential,  and,  instead  of  to  a  prison,  she  was 
sent  to  be  a  guest  of  the  Governor  at  Kam- 
chatka. But  she  was  really  a  prisoner.  As  for 
the  details  of  her  affair,  though,  Hansen  could 
not  inform  me  ;  he  did  not  know  them.  All 
he  was  interested  in  was  that  a  certain 
countess  was  at  Kamchatka  at  the  house  of 
the  Governor  ;  that  he  was  to  give  her  a  letter, 
and  she  would  steal  out  at  dead  of  night,  as 
therein  directed  ;  then,  with  her  on  board,  the 
schooner,  on  which  quarters  had  been  prepared 
for  her,  would  sail  again  for  Japan,  and  at  night 
a  woman  would  be  landed  on  the  beach  at 
Kamakura,  and  escorted  to  the  summer-house 
of  a  certain  Russian  merchant  of  Yokohama, 
who  would  then  give  the  sum  of  ten  thousand 
yen,  or  five  thousand  golden  dollars- -a  thousand 
pounds  sterling — to  Captain  Gustavus  Hansen. 
This  was  the  interesting  part  in  the  view  of  the 
"  Flying  Dutchman  "  and  his  associates ;  the 
other  details  were  merely  side  issues. 

Kamchatka  is  many  days'  sail  from  Yokohama, 
and  the  Pacific  in  the  vicinity  where  the  salt- 
laden  breezes  blow  from  the  Kuriles  is  usually 

of  America  by  George  Newnes,  Limited. 


THE    "FLYING    DUTCHMAN." 


191 


stormy.  The  voyage  of  the  Adek  was,  in  con- 
sequence, anything  but  a  pleasure  trip.  Twice 
the  spars  were  strained,  and  a  tired  crew  lashed 
them.  Off  the  Saghalien  coast  a  sudden  gale 
carried  away  a  topmast.  Before  the  Okhotsk 
Sea  was  passed  the  crew  were  in  a  state  of 
mutiny.  They  had  usually  been  informed  of 
the  nature  of  the  cruises  they  made,  and  they 
did  not  like  the  closeness  of  old  Hansen  and 
the  mates  regarding  this  voyage,  for  they  refused 
to  answer  all  questions  regarding  the  purpose  of 
the  trip.  One  evening  the  men  went  aft. 
Tony — a  half-breed  from  Vancouver  Island 
— was  spokesman,  and  he  said,  with  a  few 
adjectives  such  as  sailors  use  for  emphasis,  that 
the  men  had  all  decided  that  they  would  not 
"  turn  to  "  until  they  learned  where  they  were 
going,  and  for  what.  Hansen  was  about  half 
drunk,  and  did  not  appreciate  the  fact  that  the 
crew  were  verging  upon  mutiny.     He  never  did 


'THE  CREW   WERE    VERGING    UI'ON    mutiny 


appreciate  a  situation  of  that  kind.  But  Long 
Murray  and  Jack  Haan  saw  prospective  trouble, 
and  they  reached  for  their  revolvers.  There 
was  no  trouble,  though.  "Ve're  goin' toabdugt 
a  bloomin'  gountess,"  said  the  skipper.  "  Dunder 
und  blitzen,  vere  did  you  dink  ve  vas  goin' ;  to 
find  the  nord  pole,  vat?  " 

"  To  abduct  a  countess  !  "  echoed  the  half- 
breed — and  those  who  stood  behind  him  broke 
into  a  hearty  laugh.  To  abduct  a  countess  !  It 
was  a  good  joke.  There  were  no  countesses 
at  Kamchatka. 

But  the  sailors  did  not  know  of  the  sad  fate  of 
the  indiscreet  lady  from  Moscow  who  was  the 


guest  of  the  little,  fat,  five  feet  of  importance 
who  was  then  Governor  of  Kamchatka.  And 
whether  the  lady  knew  of  the  Russians  in  Yoko- 
hama, and  of  the  schooner  they  sent  to  her,  is 
something  which  Hansen  never  learned. 

It  was  in  June,  nearly  ten  years  ago,  that  the 
Adek  —  or,  rather,  the  Seifu  Maru — dropped 
anchor  off  Kamchatka.  Captain  Hansen  and 
Murray  went  ashore.  They  were,  so  they  told 
themselves,  foreigners  in  the  employ  of  a  Japanese 
fishing  company  which  sought  the  right  to  fish 
off  the  coast  of  the  peninsula;  and,  as  licenses 
had  been  already  granted  to  several  Japanese 
vessels,  they  thought  his  Excellency  might 
look  with  favour  upon  their  application.  This 
was  Murray's  idea,  and  he  was  rehearsing  the 
expected  conversation  with  Captain  Hansen 
when  the  stern-boat  of  the  Seifu  Maru,  grated 
on    the    shingle.     The    only    two    Japanese    on 

board,  one 
being  the 
schooner's 
cook,  formed 
the  boat's  crew 
which  took 
them  ashore. 
As  Murray 
said,  the 
a  p  a  n  e  s  e 
would  give  the 
thing  a  look  of 
truth  ful  ness. 
It  was  well  on 
in  the  after- 
noon, the  trees 
were  already 
throwing  long 
shadows  and 
the  sun-streaks 
forming  be- 
hind the  hills, 
and  Hansen 
and  his  mate 
expected  to 
see  the  Governor  on  his  veranda.  They  knew 
the  old  Governor's  custom,  for  they  had  been 
there  before,  when  a  former  Governor  ruled 
— on  different  business. 

The    Governor    was    not    on     the    veranda. 
Instead,  there  was  a  dark  and  tall   Russian  lady, 
wearing  one  of  those  fluffy  gowns  of  grass  cloth, 
which   gave  her  a  striking   appearance   in   con 
trast  with  her  surroundings.     The  two  men  saw 
her  at  the  same  time,  but  onlv  Hansen  spoke. 
"Id's  'er,"  he  said.     "By  'Eaven,  id's 
"I  guess  you're  right,"  said   Murray.      "Any- 
how, let's  see  the  picture." 

From  his  breast-pocket  the  old  sealer  took 


192 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


small  Kodak  print.     It  was  faded  and  blurred, 
but   distinguishable.       Together    the    two    men 
looked  at  it,  and  then  at  the  woman   on  the 
veranda,    who   was    staring    at    these    uncouth 
visitors  in  amazement.     She  had  been  seated  at 
a  small  table,  puffing  a  cigarette  ;  evidently  she 
had  just  finished  her  after- 
noon tea.    Obviously  she 
did  not  like  the  appear- 
ance of  the  two  sealers, 
however,  and,  rising,  she 
flitted    into    the     house. 
Hansen    •  returned       the 


TOGETHER  THE  TWO  MEN  LOOKED  AT  IT, 


picture  to  his  pocket.  He  was  satisfied;  so  was 
Murray.  They  had  seen  the  countess ;  and  now 
to  deliver  the  letter  and  carry  her  off. 

It  seemed  a  long  time  before  they  were 
admitted  to  the  presence  of  the  Governor,  and 
their  patience  was  almost  exhausted,  as  they 
sat,  kicking  their  heels,  in  a  bare  ante-room, 
and  staring  through  the  open  window  at  the  sea, 
and  their  schooner  rolling  to  her  anchor  a  few 
hundred  yards  from  shore.  At  last,  however, 
they  were  summoned  to  the  presence  of  the 
Governor.  Murray  was  out  of  the  conversation, 
for  the  Governor  could  not  speak  English.     He 


could  speak  German,  however,  and  the  conver- 
sation was,  in  consequence,  between  him  and 
Hansen.  Murray  took  the  advantage  given  by 
the  Governor's  ignorance  of  English  to  prompt 
Hansen  now  and  then — and  the  fishing  conces- 
sion was  already  in  sight.     If  they  would  come 

again  to-morrow  the  Gover- 
nor would  see  what  could 
be  done. 

They  went,  promising 
to  come  again  next  day. 
Before  they  went  Murray 
slipped  some  rouble  notes 
— they  had  brought  them 
for  the  purpose — into  the 
hands  of  a  whiskered  atten- 
dant and  handed  him  a 
letter  addressed  to  "The 
Lady  from  Moscow." 
Murray  put  his  fingers  to 
his  lips  and  motioned  to 
the  man  to  deliver  the 
letter,  at  the  same  time 
showing  him  a  roll  of 
notes,  and  with  gestures 
intimating  that  they  would 
be  given  to  the  attendant 
when  an  answer  to  the 
letter  was  brought.  The 
rouble  note  does  things  on 
Kamchatka,  as  elsewhere, 
and  after  two  bells  struck 
that  night  the  whiskered 
one  came  out  to  the 
schooner  in  a  shore-boat 
with  a  letter.  They  brought 
him  on  board,  and  Charley  Johnson 
— whose  name  had  ended  in  "  ski  " 
before  he  had  signed  articles  on  a 
whaler  as  "Johnson,"  and  held  to  the 
name — was  brought  aft  to  interpret  those 
things  which  Hansen  and  Murray  wished  to  say 
to  the  attendant.  They  told  him  that  a  lady 
would  come  out  to  the  schooner  just  before  mid- 
night, and  if  he  told  anyone  of  her  coming  they 
would  blow  his  brains  out.  If  he  did  not  tell 
of  her  visit  they  would  give  him  more  rouble 
notes.  And  he  agreed  not  to  tell.  On  second 
thoughts,  Captain  Hansen  decided  to  keep  him 
on  board  the  schooner  to  make  sure  that  he 
would  not.  Murray  could  go  ashore  to  get  the 
fugitive  countess. 

He  did.  Before  midnight  he  came  back  with 
the  woman  they  had  seen  on  the  veranda.  As 
he  told  Hansen  afterward,  he  had  an  awful  job 
to  get  her.  He  had  to  pick  her  up,  screaming 
and  kicking,  scratching  his  face,  and  fighting  as 
hard  as  she  could.  She  was  dead-set  against 
coming,   but   there    were  five  thousand  golden 


THE    "FLYING    DUTCHMAN." 


T93 


"  H"E    HAD   TO   PICK    HER   UP,    SCREAMING   AND    KICKING." 

dollars  waiting  for  the  members  of  the  Adele's 
crew  at  Kamakura  when  they  delivered  the  lady 
there,  so  she  had  to  come.  Murray  had  been 
unable  to  find  her,  and,  as  he  was  about  to  give 
up  the  search,  he  saw  a  woman  in  white  coming 
up  the  path  on  her  way  to  the  Governor's  house. 
He  could  see  at  a  glance  that  she  was  the  same 
woman  he  had  seen  on  the  veranda  in  the 
afternoon,  and  he  waited  for  her  to  show  some 
sign  of  accepting  his  guidance  to  the  schooner. 
Curiously  enough,  however,  she  did  not  show 
any  sign  of  wanting  to  go.  In  fact,  she 
screamed  and  started  to  run.  So  Murray 
picked  her  up  and  carried  her  to  the  waiting 
boat ;  there  he  held  her  while  the  two  Japanese 
rowed  them  to  the  schooner.  Once  alongside 
the  Adele,  she  was  hauled  on  board,  despite  her 
struggles  and  screams,  and  when  she  was 
installed  in  the  cabin  provided  for  her  the 
anchor  was  lifted,  and  the  schooner  luffed 
around  and  started  seaward  under  a  fair  breeze. 
It  was  decided  that  the  Russian  attendant 
could  stay  on  board  and  look  to  the  wants  of 
the  countess — he  might  make  trouble  if  allowed 

Vol.  xiv.—  26. 


to  go  on  shore.  As  it  was,  the  abduction 
of  the  countess  might  not  be  known  until 
the  morning,  and  by  that  time  the  Adele 
would  have  a  good  start. 

She  had  enough  start,  evidently.  There 
were  one  or  two  alarms  when  smoke  was 
seen  at  different  points  of  the  horizon,  but 
the  schooner  voyaged  safely  to  Japan.  She 
ran  into  one  storm  off  Yezo,  where  she  was 
tossed  about  a  little  and  had  some  of  her 
canvas  ribboned,  yet  she  eventually  came 
within  sight  of  Fuji,  towering  white  in  the 
red  sky.  The  countess  had  stood  the  voyage 
well.  She  had  been  in  a  continual  passion 
of  anger  at  first ;  she  talked  an  incessant 
stream  of  language  which  only  Johnson  and 
the  Shanghaied  attendant  of  the  Governor 
of  Kamchatka  could  understand;  and  what 
she  said  seemed  to  amuse  them  highly. 
At  first  she  had  refused  food,  but  latterly 
had  eaten  her  meals  regularly,  poorly  cooked 
though  they  were  for  one  of  her  social  rank. 
As  Jack  Haan  said,  "She  looked  as  though 
she  would  be  delivered  in  good  condition." 

It  was  September  when  the  island  of  Eno- 
shima  was  seen  in  the  glare  of  the  autumn 
sun,  and  the  blue,  almost  opalesque,   waves 
were  rolling  upon  each  other  on  to  the  great 
sandy  beach  at  Kamakura.     The  fishing  junks 
were   scudding   homeward   with  the    breeze, 
and  all  Nature  was  glorious.    In  consequence 
of  these  things — and  also  because  there  were 
ten  thousand  yen  in  Japanese  currency  await- 
ing them    in    one   of  the  villas   on   shore — 
the  adventurers    were    happy    when    the  Adele 
dropped    her    mud-hook     and    the    stern-boat 
was    rowed    ashore,    carrying    Hansen    and    his 
lieutenant  in  lawlessness  toward  the  villa  where 
for   two   hours   past    two    Russians   had    been 
seated    at     a    window     staring     through     their 
glasses   at   the  Adele.     They  could  not  under- 
stand   the    black   colour   and  the  white  stripe. 
In  fact,  they  were  not  sure  that  she   was    the 
schooner   they  looked    for  until    they  saw   the 
name,    which    had    been    repainted    over    that 
which  she  .borrowed. 

"Well,  capitan,  you  get  the  countess,  eh?" 
said  one  of  the  two,  as  Hansen  and  Murray 
stepped  on  to  the  veranda.  "You  have  got  the 
countess  ;  \  have  seen  her  with  my  glasses  on 
the  deck." 

"Yah,"  said  Hansen,  "ve  ged  'er." 
"  But  for  why  you  not  bringing  her  on  shore  ? 
That    the    arrangement    is,"    said     the     other 
Russian. 

"Yes,  that's  the  arrangement,"  broke  in 
Murray.  "But  we  thought,  as  men  of  business 
— no  offence  meant,  you  know— that  we  would 


194 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


like  to  have  a  settlement  before  we  delivered 
the  goods,  as  it  were.      The  money,  you  know." 

"Ah,  so  ?  It  is  that  you  will  have  the  reward 
which  we  give,"  the  Russian  replied,  laughingly. 
"So,  we  give  to  you." 

And  the  money  was  counted  out — in  hundred- 
yen  notes.  Then  Hansen  remained  with 
the  Russians  drinking  whisky  and  water  and 
telling  in  broken  English  of  how  they  had 
abducted  the  countess,  much  to  the  amusement 
of  the  Russians,  who  laughed  heartily  at  the 
recital. 

It  was  some  time  before  Murray  returned 
with  the  countess — and  then  there  was  a 
sensation. 


husband — he  was  the  unwilling  passenger  who 
voyaged  with  her  from  Kamchatka — went  to 
Shanghai. 

And  the  real  countess  ? 

I  don't  know  anything  about  her.  Hansen 
never  saw  her  ;  he  never  heard  anything  more 
about  her,  so  he  could  give  me  no  information 
regarding  her.  For  all  I  know  she  may  still  be 
the  "guest"  of  the  Governor  of  Kamchatka. 

Poor  old  Hansen  !  He  was  drowned  while 
gallantly  attempting  to  save  some  shipwrecked 
sailors  from  the  nitrate  barque  Libertad,  of 
Callao,  which  foundered  off  the  Vancouver 
coast  some  years  ago.     The  priest  in  charge  of 


"you  fools!''  he  said,     "you've  brought  the  wrong  woman." 


The  Russians  sprang  to  their  feet  with  oaths, 
one  knocking  over  a  chair  and  spilling  the 
whisky  on  the  table. 

"  You  fools  ! "  he  said,  when  he  could  speak. 
"  You've  brought  the  wrong  woman.  This  is 
not  the  countess  ! " 

And  it  wasn't.  Hansen  didn't  care,  though. 
He  had  the  money ;  they  had  the  woman.  If 
she  was  not  the  countess,  that  must  be  the  fault 
of  the  Russians.  They  must  have  given  him 
the  wrong  photograph,  for  she  was  certainly 
like  the  one  he  had.  If  she  was  not  the 
countess,  who  was  she  ? 

She  was  the  maid  of  the  countess.  She 
remained  in  Japan  and  was  living  in  Tokio 
until    the    war    began.      Then    sne    and    her 


the  nearest  mission  refused  to  read  his  burial 
service,  for,  according  to  his  view,  Hansen 
was  not  only  a  heretic,  but  a  bad  one. 
Nevertheless,  the  Kyuquot  Indians  —  the 
beach  people  who  live  in  the  fringe  of  the 
forest  —  knew  him,  with  all  his  faults,  to  be 
a  man,  and  thev  gave  him  a  funeral  such  as 
that  of  a  chief.  Moreover,  they  carved  a  mighty 
totem  for  him,  and  it  stands  to  this  day  at  the 
head  of  his  grave  on  the  lonely  hillside  just 
beyond  Kyuquot  harbour,  overlooking  the  great 
ocean  on  whose  waters  he  had  lived  his 
chequered  life.  Poor  old  Hansen  !  He  was  no 
saint — far  from  it— but  he  had  his  good  points. 
There  will  never  be  another  "  Flying  Dutch- 
man." 


THE    END. 


f^//prtf/yap. 


In  this  and  the  following  article  Captain  Foulkes,  the  author  of  "With  the  British  to  Sokoto,"* 
describes  his  experiences  in  Kano,  the  "  Manchester  of  the  Soudan,"  and  discourses  on  men 
and  things  in  mat  remarkable  city,  which,  until  occupied  by  the  British  troops  a  few  months  ago, 

was  practically  a  terra  incognita  to  the  white  man. 


ORE  than  fifty  years  ago,  when  the 
German  explorer  Barth  was  in  Tunis, 
prior  to  the  travels  in  the  Western 
Soudan  which  especially  have  made 
his  name  famous,  he  showed  such 
interest  in  the  little- known  races  and  regions  of 
Central  Africa  that  a  Hausa  slave,  whom  he  had 
engaged  in  conversation,  one  day  said  to  him, 
"  Please  God,  you  shall  one  day  go  and  visit 
Kano." 

These  words,  and  the  descriptions  of  the  far- 
famed  Hausa  centre,  made  such  an  impression 
on  his  mind  that  Kano,  the  name  of  which  had 
excited  his  imagination  for  a  long  time,  became 
one  of  the  main  objects  of  Barth's  great  journey, 
it  being  the  centre  of  the  commerce  of  the 
Western  Soudan,  as  well  as  a  storehouse  of 
information  and  a  base  from  which  more  distant 
regions  could  be  explored. 

Although  Barth  succeeded  in  reaching  the 
town,  Clapperton  was  the  first  European  who 
had  ever  visited  Kano,  and  since  Barth's  day 
the  successive  rulers  of  the  city  have  strongly 
and  strenuously  opposed  the  idea  of  permitting 
any  white  men  to  enter  the  gates.  Amongst 
the  few  who  have  .succeeded  in  doing  so,  how- 
ever, may  be  mentioned  Colonel  Monteil,  who 
went  there  in  the  course  of  his  famous  march 

*  See  our  issues  for  July,  1903,  and  following  months. — Ed. 


from  St.  Louis  to  Lake  Chad  and  thence  to 
Tripoli  in  1891. 

Monteil  was  received  with  great  hospitality, 
coming  as  he  did  direct  from  the  Emperor  of 
Sokoto,  and  with  the  strongest  recommenda- 
tions ;  but  Bishop  Tugwell,  who,  with  a  few 
missionary  companions,  succeeded  in  reaching 
Kano  two  or  three  years  ago,  was  soon  compelled 
to  leave  the  city,  which  has,  since  that  time, 
been  closed  to  all  Europeans,  until  the  British 
forces  stormed  the  gates  last  year  and  hoisted 
the  Union  Jack. 

The  opposition  of  the  Emir  Aliu  (who  was 
deposed  by  General  Lugard)  to  the  British  was 
very  marked.  Besides  his  unwillingness  to 
open  up  his  country  for  commercial  relations  — 
entailing  the  suppression  of  the  slave  trade — he 
was  in  very  bad  odour  with  the  British  Govern- 
ment on  account  of  having  received  with  honour, 
and  extended  his  protection  and  hospitality  to, 
the  fugitive  Magaji  of  Keffi,  a  local  headman 
who  was  responsible  quite  recently  for  the 
murder  of  Captain  Moloney,  one  of  the  political 
officers  of  the  Protectorate. 

Kano  being  not  only  the  most  important  but 
also  one  of  the  most  interesting  cities  of  the 
Central  Soudan  (it  has  been  well  called  the  "  Man- 
chester of  the  Soudan"),  I  will  briefly  touch 
upon  some  of   the   chief  [joints  of  its  history 


196 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


before  coming  to  the  more  immediate  object  of 
these  articles,  viz.,  to  recall  some  of  the  scenes 
I  witnessed  in  the  great  market-place  and 
among  its  narrow  and  tortuous  streets. 

Kano  was  originally  founded  many  hundreds 
of  years  ago  ;  in  fact,  the  Hausas  first  established 
themselves  there  about  the  time  that  Alfred  the 
Great  was  engaged  in  defeating  the  Danes  in 
this  country  and  in  originating  England's  naval 
power.  Its  early  history  is  that  of  the  Hausa 
people,  wh  >,  according  to  ancient  native  legends, 
originally  came  from  somewhere  in  the  East 
"beyond  Mecca,"  and  occupied  the  great  Oasis 
of  Air,  whence  they  were  driven  southwards  by 
the  Berbers — the  modern  Tuaregs — and  gained 
a  footing  in  Gober  and  Daura,  both  of  which 
countries  are  now  in  the  British  Protectorate  of 
Northern  Nigeria. 

After  a  time  a  colony  of  Hausas,  under  a 
pagan  chief  named  Kano,  travelled  still  farther 
to  the  south  and  fortified  themselves  round  a 
small,  rocky,  and  precipitous  hill  called  Dala, 
which  is  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  high, 
and  is  now  enclosed  within  the  great  walls  of 
the  town  ;  the  few  huts  that  were  then  erected 
seem  to  have  been  the  nucleus  of  the  present 
city.  A  long  line  of  pagan  Kings  succeeded 
the  original  founder,  many  of  whom  acknow- 
ledged the  suzerainty  of  the  Sultan  of  Bornu, 
whose  empire,  including  as  it  then  did  the 
powerful  kingdoms  of  Baghirmi,  Wadai,  and 
Darfur,  was  the  most  extensive  that  has  ever 
been  known  in  Central  Africa. 

The  importance  of  Kano  as  a  manufacturing 
centre  only  dates  from  a  little  over  a  hundred 
years  ago,  when  the  Fulanis  asserted  their  power 
in  these  parts  and  de- 
stroyed Katsena,  which 
was  at  that  time  the 
great  commercial  centre  ; 
in  fact,  it  was  entirely 
due  to  the  downfall  of 
Katsena  that  Kano  be- 
came, as  it  remains  to 
this  day,  the  seat  of  cul- 
ture of  the  Hausa  race 
and  the  Metropolis  of 
West  Africa.  Arab  mer- 
chants from  the  Mediter- 
ranean seaports  had,  how- 
ever, frequented  the  city 
for  centuries. 

To  come  down  to  more 
recent  times,  the  reigning 
Emir  of  Kano  in  1892 
was  driven  out  by  Aliu 
(whose  portrait  appeared 
in  the  April  number  of 
this   magazine)   and  was         ^"i"™"***68  °F  KAN°" 


slain  in  battle  three  years  later.  Aliu  was  himself 
deposed  by  the  British  when  Kano  was  captured 
last  year,  and  is  now  kept  a  prisoner  at  Lokoja. 

Travelling  from  Katsena  after  having  traversed 
the  desert  regions  on  the  border  of  the  Sahara 
one  cannot  help  being  much  impressed  with  the 
richness  of  the  Kano  province,  for  on  all  sides 
were  immense  areas  under  cultivation  and  large 
herds  of  cattle. 

As  the  neighbourhood  of  the  capital  is 
approached,  the  bush-paths  along  which,  a  little 
farther  north,  one  might  accomplish  a  day's 
journey  without  meeting  a  human  being  become 
more  and  more  frequented.  We  passed  porters 
from  the  distant  town  of  Salaga,  at  the  back  of 
the  Gold  Coast,  bringing  kola-nuts  bound  up  in 
neat  parcels  and  balanced  on  curious  little 
cushions,  which  are  stuffed  with  cotton  and 
placed  on  the  head  for  protection ;  women  with 
calabashes  and  earthenware  jars  of  local 
manufacture,  strung  together ;  donkeys  stag- 
gering under  unwieldy  loads  of  ground-nuts 
gathered  from  farms  close  by,  and  muzzled 
to  prevent  them  grazing  by  the  wayside  ; 
and  Government  carriers  with  coils  of  wire 
for  the  telegraph  line  that  is  being  extended 
from  head-quarters  at  Zungeru.  Long  before  we 
reached  the  town  we  espied  the  Dala  hill  which 
has  already  been  mentioned,  and  is  a  prominent 
landmark.  The  great  walls  of  the  city  are  built 
of  sun-dried  mud,  and  are  in  some  places  as 
much  as  fifty  feet  in  height  and  forty  feet  in 
thickness  at  the  base  ;  dug  on  the  outside  there 
is  a  moat  fifteen  feet  deep,  so  that,  as  will  be 
seen  from  the  photograph,  the  two  together  con- 
stitute a  very  formidable  obstacle  against  assault. 


IN   SOME    PLACES   THEY   ARE    FIFTY    FEET    HIGH    AND    FORTY 

FEET   THICK.  \PhotO. 


WHAT    I    SAW    AT    KANO. 


197 


The  town  itself  is  eleven  and  a  half  miles  in 
circumference  and  possesses  thirteen  gates,  in 
the  construction  of  which  much  ingenuity  has 
been  displayed.  Many  of  the  gateways  have 
been  placed  in  reentrant  angles,  and  are  built 
in  towers  through  which  tortuous  passages  run, 
so  that  an  entrance  to  the  town  could  be  easily 
denied  to  an  assailant,  even  if  in  considerable 
numerical  superiority  ;  whilst  the  approaches  to 
the  gates  themselves  are  enfiladed  from  loop- 
holes in  the  walls  on  both  sides  as  well  as  in  the 
towers. 

The  arrangement  of  the  loopholes  also  has 
been  cleverly  planned.  They  have  been  made  a 
few  feet  from  the  top  of  the  wall,  and  each  loop- 
hole is  served  from  a  recess  constructed  in  the 


Although  the  area  enclosed  by  the  wall  is 
immense,  it  is  by  no  means  entirely — nor  even 
half — built  over.  Large  spaces  have  been  left  for 
cultivation,  with  the  idea  that  during  a  prolonged 
siege  the  townspeople  might  raise  sufficient 
grain  for  their  subsistence. 

The  buildings  in  Kano  vary  very  much  in 
quality.  A  few  of  them  have  circular  mud- 
walls  with  grass-thatched  roofs,  but  the  majority 
are  built  of  mud  throughout,  with  Hat  roofs 
drained  by  wooden  gutters,  which  discharge  on 
the  heads  of  anyone  who  may  be  passing  in  the 
street  below. 

The  best  houses  are  to  be  found  in  the  Arab 
quarter;  here  they  are  built  in  two  stories,  and 
certain  attempts  are  made  at  ornamental  mould- 


From  a] 


ONE   OF   THE   CITY   GATES. 


[Photo. 


inner  face,  the  recesses  being  separated  by  solid 
partition  walls,  so  that  the  defenders  firing  from 
the  loopholes  are  practica  ly  safe  excepting  from 
the  direction  of  the  town. 

In  spite  of  the  strength  of  their  defences,  the 
fighting  men  of  Kano  offered  but  a  feeble  re- 
sistance to  the  entry  of  the  British  column  last 
year.  It  had  been  shown  a  few  days  previously, 
when  the  strongly-walled  town  of  Bebeji  was 
assaulted  and  taken,  that  the  shells  from  our 
small  field-guns  had  little  or  no  effect  against 
these  solidly  -  built  mud -walls.  If  the  Kano 
warriors  had  defended  their  town  with  any 
degree  of  determination  its  capture  would  have 
been  a  much  more  difficult  undertaking  than  it 
proved  to  be,  and  would  probably  have  necessi- 
tated a  night  attack  with  scaling  ladders. 


ing,  while  the  window  openings  are  covered  with 
wooden  lattice-work,  and  a  kind  of  couch  is 
provided  at  the  entrance,  on  which  the  owners 
can  be  observed  transacting  their  business, 
squatting  on  curiously-stained  leather  cushions. 
Besides  the  Arab  quarter,  special  portions  of  the 
town  are  appropriated  by  each  of  the  various 
native  races;  for  example,  the  Yorubas,  the 
Hausas,  the  Fulanis,  and  the  Nupis  all  occupy 
distinct  quarters  of  the  city. 

The  Fulanis  are  the  ruling  race  in  the 
country,  and  the  history  of  their  advent  and  of 
the  gradual  assertion,  of  their  power  during  the 
last  "hundred  years  is  full  of  interest.  They  are 
essentially  a  pastoral  race  and  never  remain  111 
one  spot  for  any  length  of  time,  nor  do  they 
cultivate  the  soil.     Their  encampments  are  to 


198 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


From  a\ 


THE   EMIRS   JUDGMENT    HALL,    WHEKE   CASES    ARE   TRIED. 


be  found  all  over  the  Soudan,  and  they  ex- 
change the  produce  of  their  herds  for  such  corn 
and   clothing    as    they  require. 

Their  skin  is  reddish-brown  in  colour,  and 
the  shape  of  their  noses  is  aquiline  and 
quite  different  to  that  of  the  blacks;  their 
hands  and  feet,  too,  are  much  smaller. 
The  Fulani  has  a  great  contempt  for  the 
black,  and  considers  him — and  rightly — 
an  inferior  being.  There  is  a  saying 
among  the  latter,  in  speaking  of  their 
Fulani  rulers,  "  You  will  never  find  a  fool 
among  them "  ;  and  in  reference  to  the 
women  — "  Let  one  enter  your  house  as 
a  slave  and  she  will  become  mistress  of 
it  at  once." 

.  The  King's  palace  is  a  square  fortress 
situated  in  the  centre  of  the  city  and 
surrounded  by  a  high  wall.  Within  the 
latter,  which  encloses  an  area  of  not  less 
than  thirty-three  acres,  are  the  King's 
private  npartments  and  audience  chambers, 
as  well  as  various  court  houses  and  the 
Judgment  Hall. 

Some  of  these  buildings  are  very  fine 
specimens  of  native  architecture,  the 
audience  chamber,  for  example,  being 
about  twenty-five  feet  square,  with  an 
arched  roof  thirty  feet  high.  Both  in  the 
arches  and  in  the  walls  there  is  a  strong 
timber  framework,  and  the  whole  of  the 
interior  of  this  room  is  rudely  decorated 
with     geometrical     designs     executed     in 


coloured  paints  and 
powdered  mica.  Promi- 
nent points  in  the  roof 
and  on  the  walls  are 
further  ornamented  with 
small,  round,  grass-woven 
mats  fastened  against  the 
surface,  and  with  pieces 
of  coarse  glazed  European 
earthenware. 

When  I  was  in  Kano  I 
enjoyed  the  privilege  of  a 
presentation  to  the  present 
Emir,  and  had  no  difficulty 
in  getting  him  to  stand  for 
his  portrait  in  the  court- 
yard. He  showed  great 
interest  in  my  camera  (a 
twin  lens),  and  delightedly 
followed  his  chief  adviser, 
the  sitting  figure  in  the 
photograph,  in  the  focusing 
screen  as  he  walked  about 
in  front  for  the  purpose. 

The  Emir  is  a  tall, 
dignified  man,  over  six 
feet  in  height  ;  he  is  a  half-brother  to  his  pre- 
decessor Aliu,  and  is  very  like  him  in  face,  but 
rather  lighter  in  complexion.  The  robes  he  wore 
were  of  embroidered  silks,  and  his  sandals  were 


[Photo. 


THE    PRESENT    EMIR    (ON    RIGHT)   AND    HIS    PRIME    MINISTER. 

From  a  Photo. 


WHAT    I    SAW   AT   KANO. 


199 


encased  in  ostrich  feathers,  which  gave  them  a 
most  peculiar  appearance. 

The  palace  grounds  were  at  the  time  of  my 
visit  strangely  deserted,  though  Barth,  referring 
to  the  same  place  in  the  year  185 1,  quaintly 
writes  :  "  Hundreds  of  lazy,  arrogant  courtiers, 
freemen,  and  slaves  were  lounging  and  idling 
here,  killing  time  with  trivial  and  saucy  jokes." 

On  the  occasion  of  the  recent  British  occupa- 
tion of  Kano  an  unexpected  resistance  was 
offered  at  the  entrance  to  the  King's  palace  by 
a  devoted  slave  who  had  been  left  in  charge. 
With  merely  a  handful  of  followers  he  gallantly 
attacked  our  troops,  and  it  was  only  after  a 
sharp  fight  that 
the  whole  party 
was  overcome 
and  killed.  One 
of  the  King's 
women,  too, 
showed  her  de- 
votion by  setting 
fire  to  the  maga- 
zine in  which 
quantities  of 
powder  and  am- 
munition were 
stored.  The 
smoke  was  only 
just  discovered 
in  time,  and 
after  a  few  ex- 
citing moments 
the  fire  was  put 
outandadisaster 
narrowly  averted. 

The  dungeon 
in  Kano,  in  which 
malefactors  and 
others  who  had 
incurred  the 
King's  d  i  s- 
pleasure  used  to 
be  confined,  is 
one  of  the  sights  of  the  city.  It  is  a  small 
building,  divided  into  two  compartments,  each 
of  about  one  hundred  and  twenty  square  feet 
area  and  ten  feet  high.  The  compartments 
are  separated  by  a  small  partition  wall,  and 
the  whole  place  is  quite  unventilated  except- 
ing for  a  small  doorway,  in  passing  through 
which  it  is  necessary  to  stoop  double. 

At  the  time  that  Kano  was  captured  there 
were  no  fewer  than  a  hundred  and  thirty- five 
people  confined  in  this  place  at  night-time. 
During  the  day  the  wretched  creatures  were 
driven  into  a  small  adjoining  courtyard,  where 
they  were  allowed  to  cook  their  food.  The 
atmosphere    of    this    dreadful    place     can    be 


THE     DUNGEON    AT    KANO —      UEMUK     THIS 

From  a]        black  hole  ok  Calcutta 


imagined  ;  and  it  was  stated  that  on  one  occasion 
over  two  hundred  prisoners  were  confined  in  the 
dungeon  at  the  same  time,  and  this,  of  course, 
did  not  even  leave  standing  room  for  them. 

The  difficulty  was  partly  overcome  by  the 
privilege  accorded  to  persons  sentenced  to  death 
of  sitting  on  the  ground  with  their  legs  forced 
up  to  the  thigh  through  holes  made  in  the 
partition  wall  ;  as  a  result  they  were  left  to  be 
trodden  on  by  the  other  prisoners,  and  each  night 
several  of  the  hapless  victims  were  trampled  to 
death,  their  corpses  being  dragged  out  in  the  morn- 
ing. Beside  this  terrible  place  the  horrors  of  the 
Black  Hole  of  Calcutta  fade  into  insignificance. 

Beyond  the 
King's  palace 
and  the  Dala  hill 
the  most  notice- 
able topographi- 
cal feature  of 
Kano  is  a  large 
pond  in  the 
middle  of  the 
town,  which  goes 
by  the  name 
Jakara.  This 
pond  was  of 
much  greater  ex- 
tent fifty  years 
ago,  and  was  pro- 
bably originally 
formed  by  exca- 
vating for  mate- 
rial with  which 
to  build  houses. 
Of  late  years  it 
has  been  a  great 
convenience  to 
the  Kings  of 
Kano,  as  it  was 
into  this  lake 
that  heads,  limbs, 
and  bodies  were 
thrown  on  the 
occasion  of  State  executions.  Into  it,  also, 
refuse  from  the  different  slaughter-houses  and 
offal  are  still  pitched,  and,  as  may  be  imagined, 
its  neighbourhood  is  not  one  in  which  to  linger. 
Unfortunately,  even  after  leaving  this  ill-omened 
lake,  one  does  not  experience  much,  relief  in 
the  city. 

Kano  is  certainly  picturesque,  but  it  is  also 
extremely  dirty,  and  foetid  streams  can  be  seen 
oozing  from  the  dwelling-houses  and  trickling 
down  the  centre  of  nearly  all  the  streets.  The 
enormous  extent  of  the  town  can  be  judged  from 
the  fact  that  the  distance  from  the  Dala  hill 
(from  which  the  photograph  at  the  top  of  the 
next  page  was  taken)  to  the  Jakara— shown  in 


IEKKIBLE     PLACE    THE     HOKKOKS     OK      I  HE 
FADE    INTO    INSIGNIFICANCE."  [Photo. 


200 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE 


'  JAKARA 


THE    LAKE    INTO    WHICH    THE    REMAINS   OF    EXECUTED    CRIMINALS    WERE    FORMERLY    THROWN. 

From  a  Photo. 


the  background  of  the  same  picture  —  is  less 
than  one- quarter  of  the  total  distance  from  the 
hill  to  the  opposite  wall,  as  measured  on  the 
plan.  The  whole  of  this  space  is  closely  packed 
with  houses. 

Immediately  within  the  walls  of  the  city, 
before  one  reaches  the  houses,  there  are  wide, 
green,  open  spaces  which  afford  excellent 
pasturage     for    horses,     donkeys,    cattle,    and 


goats.  These  greens  were  also  intended  to  be 
sown  with  grain  to  eke  out  the  supplies  of  the 
town  during  a  siege.  Every  here  and  there  one 
passes  excavations  filled  with  water  and  over- 
grown with  weeds.  These  are  abandoned  clay- 
pits,  whence  the  materials  for  building  houses 
have  been  obtained.  Fresh  pits  are  seen  on 
every  hand,  with  gangs  of  slaves  hoeing  up 
the  clay  and  working  it  into  balls  ready  for  use. 


. 


A   GFNERAL   VIEW   OF    KANO — THE   CITV   IS    ELEVEN    AND   A    HALF    MILES    IN    CIRCUMFERENCE,    AND 

From  a]  possesses  thirteen  gates.  [Photo. 


{To  be  concluded.) 


By  S.  W.  Niemeyer. 


The    strange  and   pathetic  story    of  Count    Alberto   de  Rimini,  an    Italian  nobleman.     Once 

a  member  of  the  Papal  household,  and  moving  in  the  highest  circles  of  Roman  society,  the 

tragic   issue  of  a  love  affair  drove  him  away  from  home  and  friends  for  ever.     For  thirty 

years  he  has  lived  as  a  recluse  in   the  Great   Dismal   Swamp  of  Virginia. 


N  a  dense  forest  bordering  on  the 
Great  Dismal  Swamp  of  Virginia 
there  is  a  rude  kind  of  cave  dug 
into  the  earth  and  covered  with 
branches  of  trees,  twigs,  and  rags. 
In  this  miserable  hole,  far  from  the  haunts  of 
man,  dwells  a  human  being  whose  life  and 
history  have  for  many  years  been  a  profound 
mystery. 

The  hermit  is 
a  man  of  appa- 
rently sixty  years 
of  age,  dirty  and 
unkempt  in  ap- 
pearance. He 
leaves  his  den 
occasionally  to 
visit  the  town  of 
Portsmouth, 
some  ten  miles 
distant,  where  he 
wanders  through 
the  streets  pick- 
ing up  rubbish  of 
any  kind,  which 
he  deposits  in  an 
old  black  leather 
bag  suspended 
by  a  strap  from 
his  shoulder.  He 
never  speaks  to 
anyone  and  is 
generally  re- 
garded as  deaf 
and  dumb.  The 
old  man  is  called 
the  "Crazy  Her- 
mit of  the 
Swamp,"    and 

Vol.  xiv.  —26. 


HIS    LOVE    WAS    KE1UKNKU. 


many  surmises  are  indulged  in  regarding  him 
and  the  cause  of  his  present  condition.  There- 
by, although  very  few  people  know  it,  hangs 
a  tale  of  strange  romance. 

More  than  thirty  years  ago  there  was  main- 
tained at  the  Vatican  in  Rome  a  small  band  of 
soldiers  known  as  the  Army  of  the  Pope.  To 
this    "  army "   was   attached   a   young   captain, 

Count  Alberto  de 
Rimini,  a  gentle- 
man of  Italy, 
who,  though  pos- 
sessed of  large 
wealth,  from  re- 
ligious motives 
and  admiration 
for  Pope  Pius 
IX.,  had  Income 
a  member  of  the 
Papal  Guard,  and 
announced  to  his 
friends  and  rela- 
tives his  inten- 
tion of  devoting 
his  services  to 
the  cause  of  the 
Pope  and  aiding 
him  in  the  strug- 
gle against  the 
daily  -  increasing 
opposition  to  the 
temporal  power 
of  the  Church  of 
Rome. 

But,    alas,    for 

human    frailties  ! 

apt  de  Rimini 

had,  without  the 

least  regret,  cast 


202 


THE     WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


aside  the  companionship  of  congenial  friends 
and  the  pleasures  of  wealth  and  social  position, 
regarding  them  as  a  star  of  only  temporary 
brightness  that  would  soon  fade  for  ever,  but 
suddenly  there  arose  to  beam  on  his  life  a  new 
and  brilliant  star  of  rare  and  radiant  beauty — 
a  lovely  maiden  of  twenty  summers,  more 
beautiful  than  all  the  bright  flowers  of  sunny 
Italy,  with  a  voice  of  sweeter  music  than  the 
song-bird's  note.  To  see  her  was  to  love  her, 
and  Beatrice  Bendennetti  at  once  became  the 
idol  of  his  heart.  His  love  was  returned, 
but  fate  was   against    them.     Beatrice  was    the 


netti  must  carry  out  her  resolve,  ind  that  their 
love  must  be  renounced  for  ever  ! 

De  Rimini  at  first  did  not  seem  to  compre- 
hend the  Bope's  words,  but  suddenly  his  eyes 
flashed  fire,  the  blood  rushed  to  his  face,  and, 
almost  crazed  with  grief  and  rage,  the  young 
nobleman  turned  furiously  upDn  the  Holy 
Father,  reproaching  him  bitterly.  Bius  IX. 
touched  a  bell,  and  several  attendants  entered. 
They  at  once  proceeded  to  remove  the  angry 
count,  who  struggled  desperately,  furious  with 
passion  and  disappointment.  As  he  was  borne 
away  the  Fope  stretched  out  hi:  hand  towards 


'the  fope  stretched  out  his  hand  towakds  him,  saying,  'kefent  and  do  penance,  and  you  will  be  forgiven. 


promised  bride  of  Heaven,  a  daughter  of  the 
Church,  for  she  had  decided  to  become  a 
cloistered  nun. 

Count  de  Rimini's  enlistment  as  a  soldier  of 
the  Bope  did  not  require  a  vow  of  celibacy,  and 
he  urged  upon  Beatrice  that,  as  she  had  not 
already  become  a  nun,  it  was  not  too  late  to 
reconsider  her  determination.  She  was  willing, 
but,  uncertain  as  to  her  duty,  agreed  that 
De  Rimini  should  lay  the  matter  before  the 
Bope  and  abide  by  his  decision.  De  Rimini, 
delighted  with  this  agreement,  gladly  accepted 
the  condition,  feeling  assured  that  the  Bope 
would  readily  consent  to  give  peace  and  happi- 
ness to  the  faithful  soldier  who  had  served  him 
so  well.  He  hurriedly  sought  an  audience  with 
the  Bontiff,  who  listened  patiently  to  his  tale  of 
love,  but  to  the  count's  astonishment  and 
dismay  quietly  told  him  that  Beatrice  Benden- 


him,  saying,  "  Repent  and  do  penance,  and  you 
will  be  forgiven." 

De  Rimini  was  confined  for  several  days,  and 
then,  on  account  of  his  former  faithful  services, 
was  released.  He  at  once  sought  Beatrice,  but 
learned  that  she  was  ill — literally  dying  from 
grief,  shame,  and  mortification  that  her  lover  had 
on  her  account  committed  the -awful  crime  of 
grossly  insulting  the  Bope.  She  lingered  for  a 
few  days — exacting  from  the  distracted  young 
count  a  promise  to  repent  and  do  penance — and 
then  her  gentle  spirit  took  its  flight. 

After  the  death  of  his  beloved  Beatrice  the 
sorely-tried  De  Rimini's  health  gave  way.  A 
long  illness  resulted  in  the  loss  of  his  reason  and 
his  incarceration  in  an  asylum.  After  several 
years  of  confinement  in  this  place — for  ever 
brooding  on  his  promise  of  penance — he  escaped, 
made  his  way  to  the  coast,  and  shipped  on  a 


THE    HERMIT    OF    THE    DISMAL    SWAMP. 


203 


THE    HERMITS   ABODE    IN    THE    HEART   OF    THE   GREAT    DISMAL    SWAMP   OF    VIRGINIA. 

Front  a  Photo. 


sailing  -  vessel  bound  for  America.  The 
vessel  reached  the  shores  of  the  United 
States,  but  was  wrecked  on  the  coast  of 
Virginia.  De  Rimini,  with  several  others, 
succeeded  in  reaching  the 
shore,  but  he  soon  left 
his  companions  and  took 
to  the  woods.  After 
wandering  about  aim- 
lessly for  some  time  he 
reached  the  Great  Dismal 
Swamp,  some  thirty  miles 
from  the  coast.  Here,  in  the 
forest  bordering  the  swamp, 
he  settled  down  to  live  the 
remainder  of  his  days.  For 
nearly  thirty  years  he  has  thus 
lived,  never  speaking  to  any- 
one, feeding  on  odds  and 
ends  of  food,  and  otherwise 
bearing  bodily  and  mental 
suffering  as  a  penance  for  the 
insult  offered  to  Pius  IX. 


Some  years  ago  an  Italian  gentleman  saw  the 
hermit,  ascertained    his    nationality,    and,   visit- 
ing   his    retreat    in    the    swamp,    succeeded    in 
persuading    him    to    disclose     the    story  of   his 
life,  which  is  here  related. 

The  accompanying 
photographs  of  the  hermit 
and  his  abode,  which  were 
secured  with  great  difficulty, 
well  illustrate  the  primitive 
nature  of  the  former  aristo- 
crat's surroundings  in  the 
heart  of  the  lonely  forest. 

Perhaps  ere  long,  in  the 
dead  hours  of  the  night, 
with  only  the  whispering 
wind  amongst  the  trees  to 
sing  a  requiem,  the  soul 
of  the  poor  old  man  will 
take  flight,  and  the  two 
loving  hearts  that  were 
separated  in  life  will  be 
united  for  ever  in  death. 


THE    HERMIT   AS    HE    IS   TO-DAY. 

From  a  Plwto. 


A  Chinese  Bicycle — The  "Rock  of  the  Accursed  Step-Daughter" — The  Chopstick  Market,  etc. 


MEDICAL  missionary  in  China 
writes :  "  The  Chinese  bump  of 
originality  is  poorly  developed.  John 
can  make  almost  anything  if  you 
give  him  a  pattern.     A  foreigner  in 

Pekin  once  gave  a  tailor  an  old  pair  of  trousers 

with    strict    injunctions    to    make    another    like 

them.     He    did    so  —  including  the    well-worn 

patch    behind  !     The  wooden  bicycle  shown  in 

the  accompanying  picture  was 

made  by  a  Chinaman.    His  sole 

pattern   was  a   drawing   of  an 

old  -  fashioned    bone  -  shaker. 

The    front   wheel    looks    very 

much  like  a  discarded  rickshaw- 
wheel,   but   the   man    declares 

he  made  the  whole  thing  him- 
self.    The  most  curious  part  of 

the  machine  is  the  backbone, 

which  is  nothing  more  or  less 

than  an  agricultural  pitchfork, 

the  prongs  being  bent  down  to 

form     supports     for    the   hind 

wheel.  The  seat  differs  from  the 

conventional  saddle  in  having 

two  pieces  of  wood  nailed  at 

right  angles  to  each  other  and 

padded  with  cotton  -  wool   for 

additional  comfort  !   There  are 

no    pedals.     The    rider   works 

from  the  front  wheel  hub,  on  a 

bent  piece  of  iron  fixed  to  an 

improvised  crank.  The  handles 

are  three  feet  long  and  perfectly 


straight.  The  less  said  about  rigidity  the  better. 
The  rider  shown  in  the  picture  purchased  it 
from  the  maker  for  four  shillings,  and  rode  it 
from  his  home  to  my  house,  a  distance  of  forty 
miles.  He  cannot  get  on  unless  the  machine  is 
supported  by  a  friend.  No  bell  is  necessary. 
You  can  hear  him  coming  a  considerable  way 
off.  The  'ram' in  front  is  evidently  necessary 
to  preserve  the  delicate  mechanism  behind  !  " 


THIS     EXTRAORDINARY    WOODEN    BICYCLE    WAS     I'.l'll.r 

From  a]  being  a  drawing  of  an  old 


BY    A     CHINAMAN,    HIS     ONLY     PATTERN 
'  BONE-SHAKER."  [FkctO. 


ODDS    AND    ENDS. 


565 


{Photo. 


Many  rocks  in  various  parts  of  the  world 
assume  fantastic  shapes,  which  have  earned 
them  all  sorts  of  more  or  less  appropriate 
names.  One  which  reproduces  the  human 
form  very  strikingly  is  the  "  Rock  of  the 
Accursed  Step-Daughter."  It  is  situated  near 
the  entrance  to  a  tunnel  between  Nish  and  the 
Macedonian  frontier,  but  you  must  pop  your 
head  out  of  the  train  very  quickly  if  you 
desire  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  it.  To  the 
Servians    of    the    neighbourhood    it     affords    a 


ful  than  it  would  be  in  most  other  lands, 
for  patriarchal  ties  there  almost  amount  to  a 
religion.  The  curse  came  home  to  roost  and 
the  step-daughter  was  turned  into  stone.  If 
you  doubt  the  story,  there  is  the  rock  as  proof 
of  its  authenticity. 

The  illustration  below  is  a  facsimile  of 
the  curious  paper  currency  that  was  in  use 
at  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah,  until  quite  recently. 
These  notes  range  in  value  from  five  cents  up  to 
five  dollars,  and  were  redeemable,  not  in  cash, 


'     This  15  not  intended  to  he  used  as  Money. 
TH|SWRIT|NG 

WITNESSETH  THAT  TH£ 


/0fS! 


PRODUCE/^MERCHANDISE 


TO  THE    AMOUNT     OF" 


Date.<V/^£ 


W 


an. 


Wm 


^•HV      v** 


',••'— 


THE   CURIOUS    PAPER   CURRENCY    FORMERLY    USED   AT   SALT    LAKE   CITY.      THE    NOTE'.,    .VERE   REDE 

IN    CASH,     HUT    IN    GOODS. 


favourite  resort  for  picnics.  The  legend  at- 
taching to  it  is  to  the  effect  that,  once  upon 
a  time,  a  girl  cursed  her  step  -  mother.  This 
in  Servia  is  considered  more  criminally  unduti- 


but  in  goods.  They  have  now  been  called  in, 
and  are  becoming  somewhat  rare,  although  they 
are  still  occasionally  used  for  paying  the  ten  per 
cent,  tithe  levied  on  all  faithful  Mormons. 


2o6 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


F)oiu  a\ 

It    is    safe   to    say    that 
very   few   of    our   readers 
could  name  correctly  what 
the    heaps   shown   in   the 
top   photograph   are   com- 
posed   of.      The    picture 
was  taken  in   the  city  of 
Wuchang,    in    Central 
China,  and  the  piles  con- 
sist of  nothing  more  or  less 
than    bamboo    chopsticks 
in  process  of  manufacture. 
As    every    Chinese    man, 
woman,  and  child  needs  at 
least  one  pair  of  chopsticks, 
and  as   they   have   to    be 
thrown    away    when    they 
have    been    used    a    few 
times,   the    demand    is 
enormous,    and    they    are 
made  literally  by  the   mil- 
lion. The  river 
in  the  back- 
ground  is  the 
Yang-tse,    and 
the  town  across 
the  river  Han- 
kow. 

Our  next 
photograph 
was  taken  at 
an  old  house 
near  Dieppe, 
France,  and 
shows  an  im- 
mense dove- 
cot, construct- 
ed to  hold 
several  hun- 
dred   birds. 


/HAT    ARE   THKSE    HEAPS    COMPOSED   OF? 


A  MONSTER  SIXTEENTH-CENTURY  DOVE-CC 

From  a]  France. 


NEAR  DIKPPF 

f  Photo. 


THE    1'ET 


REGIMENT    REFRESHING    HIMSELF    AFTER   A    FATIGUING    MARCH. 

From  a  Photo. 


[Photo, 

The  holes  for  entry  will 
be  seen  in  the  fourth  belt 
of  patterns.  Besides  be- 
ing interesting  as  a 
curiosity  it  is  a  beautiful 
example  of  sixteenth-cen- 
tury architecture.  Such  a 
large  dove-cot  must  surely 
be  unique. 

It  is  a  well-known  fact 
that  various  regiments   in 
our  own  and  foreign  armies 
possess  queer    "  pets  "  or 
"  mascots,"    which    often 
go    with     the     troops 
on    active    service.      The 
accompanying   snap  -  shot 
shows   a    quaint    little 
monkey,  the   much-prized 
pet    of  a    Yeomanry  regi- 
ment   in     South     Africa. 
The  picture 
shows     the 
animal    en- 
joying   a     re- 
freshing drink 
on    coming 
into    camp 
after    a     long 
and     fatiguing 
trek    across 
the  veldt,  hold- 
ing the  bottle 
above     his 
head     and 
gulping    down 
its   contents 
with     every 
sign    of    satis- 
faction. 


J 


ODDS    AND    ENDS. 


207 


One   of    the 

greatest  evils  ran- 
chers have  to 
fight  in  the  Rocky 
Mountains  is  the 
forest  fire.  Very 
often  careless 
campers  leave 
some  smouldering 
embers ;  a  wind 
arises  to  scatter 
the  sparks,  and  a 
disastrous  forest 
fire  ensues.  Hun- 
dreds of  thou- 
sands of  acres  of 
valuable  timber 
have  been  de- 
stroyed in  this 
way.  The  Govern- 
ment appoints 
timber  rangers  to 
watch  both  the 
careless  camper 
and     the     timber 


A     MOUNTAINEER     CUT     OFF     BV     AN     AVALANCHE.        KEFORE 
RESCUING    HIM    THE   RELIEF    PARTY   TOOK    THIS    SNAP-SHOT   OF 

the  curious  scene.  [by  Pollack. 


From  a  Photo.  1 


This   pictu 
From  a] 


RE    DOES     NOT    REPRESENT    A   VOLCANO, 
IN    THE   ROCKY   MOUNTAINS. 


BUT    A     FOREST     FIRE 

{Photo. 


thief,  but,  of  course,  these  cannot  be  every- 
where at  once.  The  impressive  photograph 
reproduced  shows  a  forest  fire  raging  on 
Mount  Hayden,  Ouray  County,  Colorado. 
The  fire  is  really  just  behind  the  top  of  the 
peak,  but  from  the  point  of  view  selected  it 
gives  a  very  striking  volcano-like  effect. 

Concerning  the  above  photograph  a  corre- 
spondent writes  :  "  This  remarkable  snap- 
shot illustrates  the  extraordinary  escape  of  a 
mountaineer  who  was  suddenly  overtaken  by 
an  avalanche.  There  was  no  time  to  fly,  but 
he  crouched  under  a  projecting  rock  which 
divided  the  moving  snow  and  saved  his  life. 
Part  of  the  avalanche  passed  clean  over  the 
rock,  and  when  it  finally  came  to  rest  he 
found  himself  surrounded  on  all  sides  by 
enormous  masses  of  snow.  Here  a  search 
party  found  him  some  hours  afterwards,  afraid 
to  leave  his  rock  in  case  the  treacherous  snow 
should  once  more  begin  to  move.  Before  they 
rescued  him  from  his  disagreeable  predica- 
ment they  took  this  photograph  of  the  scene.'' 

The  photo,  on  the  next  page  hails  from 
Ocean  Island,  away  in  the  South  Pacific,  and 
shows  a  number  of  Gilbert  Islanders  playing 
their  game  of  ball.  A  clear  piece  of  ground 
is  chosen,  and  about  a  dozen  or  so  Kanakas 
take  their  places  at  each  end,  a  log  being 
placed  across  the  centre  of  the  ground.  The 
ball — which   is  about   twenty  inches  in  cir- 


208 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


GILBF.KT    ISLANDERS    PLAYING    BALL.       SOMETIMES   THE    BALL   IS    HIT   WITH   SUCH    FORCE   AS   TO    KNOCK   A    MAN    DOWN. 

From  a  Photo. 


cumference — is  made  of  cocoanut-leaf.  One  of 
the  boys  takes  it  in  his  right  hand  and  rushes 
up  to  the  log,  where  he  throws  the  ball  into  the 
air  and  strikes  it  with  his  clenched  fist  towards 
the  other  side,  who  are  waiting  to  catch  it.     If 


no  one  is  successful  in  doing  this,  the  ball  is 
returned,  and  so  the  game  goes  on  until'  some- 
one or  other  catches  it,  when  they  have  a  turn 
at  hitting.  Sometimes  the  big  ball  is  sent  in 
with  such  force  as  to  knock  a  man  over. 


The'Flying  Dutchman'' 


A  Battle  HgH  Life  with  Pythons 
f        f 
My^ShipWreck 


v>i1r^4  <-y     By  Sledoe  Across 
wAF         ,-^'v  theTop of  Europe 


tiew  Jeanne  Savei> 

THE  PAY-lijAIN 

Hermit  of  the  Dismal  Swamp 

'•    **      I 

*\  Modern  Robinson  Crusoe 


Cast  Away  among  Filipino* 


_*21 


THE    NOVEL   MAP-CONTENTS   OF    "  THE   WIDE   WORLD    MAGAZINE,"   WHICH    SHOWS   AT   A   GLANCE   THE    LOCALITY   OF    EACH    ARTICLE 

AND   NARRATIVE   OK    ADVENTURE   IN    THIS   NUMBER. 


"A  DARK   FORM   OF   GREAT   SIZE   SHOT   CLEAN   OVER   THE   DORY." 

(see  page  214.) 


The  Wide  World  Magazine. 


Vol 


VIU 


JANUARY,    1905. 


Nc.  ?i. 


By  Charles  R.   Marlatt. 

What    befell  two   young   school-teachers    of    Fiji  who  went  on  a  camping-out  excursion  to 

an    outlying    island. 


EAR  Yiti  Levu,  the  largest  island  of 
the  Fiji  group,  is  situated  a  smaller 
and  more  rocky  island  known  as 
Beqa.  It  lies  about  twenty  -  five 
miles  from  Suva,  the  beautiful  capital 
of  the  group,  and  makes  a  delightful  rendezvous 
for  a  day's  outing.  On  this  account  it  is  often 
made  the  objective  point  of  picnics  and  ex- 
cursions, for,  besides  being  beautiful  and 
abounding  in  pretty  little  camping  spots,  it 
has  several  unique  attractions. 

On  Beqa  lives  a  tribe  of  Fijians  who  possess 
the  remarkable  gift  of  being  able  to  walk  with 
bare  feet  over  red-hot  stones,  and  for  a  slight 
remuneration  they  will  give  an  exhibition  of  this 
power  to  the  tourists  and  others  who  visit  their 
island.*  But  it  is  another  attraction  that  takes 
the  old-timers  of  Suva  there  so  often.  It  is 
well  known  that  around  the  rocky  shores  of 
Beqa  is  to  be  found  the  best  fishing  for  many 
miles  about.  Being  desirous  of  testing  the 
veracity  of  the  tales  I  had  heard  of  the  fire- 
walkers,  and  also  of  those  concerning  the 
piscatorial  possibilities  of  the  place,  I  resolved 
to  pay  it  a  visit. 

*  See   "  The    Fiery    Ordeal    o"    Fiji,"    in    our    issue    for    May, 
1898.— Ed. 

Vol.  xiv.— 27. 


I  was  engaged  at  the  time  in  teaching  a  small 
native  school  near  the  capital,  and  so  had  all 
day  Saturday  and  Sunday  in  which  to  do  as 
seemed  best  to  myself.  There  was  another 
young  man,  Harry  Menzie  by  name,  also  a 
Canadian,  who  was  engaged  in  the  same  occu- 
pation farther  out  from  the  city,  and  he  and  I 
were  somewhat  chummy,  having  nationality  and 
occupation  in  common.  Moreover,  we  were 
both  enthusiastic  lovers  of  the  water,  and  owned 
together  a  little  cutter  which  we  called  the 
Iki  Vuka,  or  "  Flying  Fish." 

Neither  of  us  had  ever  been  to  Beqa,  but 
had  always  intended  to  pay  it  a  visit  before 
we  left  the  islands,  which  we  contemplated 
doing  that  Christmas.  As  it  was  now  only  a 
few  weeks  before  the  time  set  for  our  departure. 
we  arranged  to  make  the  excursion  the  following 
week,  starting  on  the  next  Saturday  morning 
and  returning  on  the  Sunday  afternoon  follow- 
ing. For  the  proper  management  of  the 
Iki  Vuka  two  more  of  a  crew  were  necessary, 
and,  as  it  is  always  best  on  an  excursion  of  this 
kind  to  have  one  or  more  native  boys  with  you, 
we  agreed  to  each  take  our  regular  native 
helpers  along,  as  they  were  both  experts  in  the 
arts  of  swimming,  diving,  and  sailing. 


212 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


On  Friday  evening  we  packed  up  enough 
food  to  last  us,  and  this,  with  a  tent  and  a 
couple  of  hammocks,  we  placed  in  the  hoat. 
We  also  got  ready  an  outfit  of  tackle,  lines, 
hooks,  net,  and  lastly  a  harpoon,  which  would 
be  handy  in  case  a  shark  got  tangled  up  in  our 
net.  These  we  entrusted  to  the  two  boys,  with 
instructions  to  have  all  in  readiness  for  an  early 
start  next  morning. 

The  wind  in  the  morning  was  light,  and  so  we 
barely  drifted  along  over  the  tranquil  water,  but 
when  we  got  outside  the  reef  that  runs  around 
the  island  we  found  a  better  breeze,  which  in 
about  three  hours' wafted  us  to  our  destination. 
We  had  been  longer  on  the 
way  than  we  had  expected, 
and  so  it  was  about  noon 
when  we  pulled  into  a  little 
land-locked  bay  and  prepared 
to  pitch  our  camp  in  the 
shade  of  a  cocoa-nut  grove 
which  extended  down  to  the 
water's  edge.  While  the 
boys  were  erecting  the  tent, 
swinging  the  hammocks,  and 
preparing  the  dinner,  Harry 
and  I  went  for  a  stroll  along 
the  beach. 

Returning  to  the  camp, 
we  found  that  the  natives 
had  done  excellently  well  in 
the  way  of  preparing  a  meal, 
and  the  camp  looked  deli- 
ciously  cool  and  inviting. 
After  we  had  partaken  of  the 
food  we  had  a  short  siesta, 
and  then  set  out  on  a  two- 
mile  walk  to  see  the  fire- 
walkers,  who  were  perform- 
ing that  afternoon  for  the 
benefit  of  a  party  of  tourists  on  a  visit  to 
Beqa  in  search  of  new  scenes  and  excitement. 
The  practice  of  fire-walking  as  performed  by 
these  islanders  seems  a  wonderful  act,  and  is 
explained  by  them  to  their  credulous  fellows  by 
a  long  and  very  ancient  myth  concerning  a 
befriended  deity,  who  gratefully  bestowed  the 
art  on  their  ancestors.  Stones  were  heated  to 
whiteness,  and  when  the  fire  was  taken  away  the 
natives  sprang  barefooted  upon  them  and, 
shaking  their  spears  and  clubs,  performed  a  sort 
of  war  dance,  which,  however,  did  not  last  long, 
for  as  soon  as  the  stones  began  to  cool  to  a 
sullen  red  glow  they  quickly  made  their  exit 
from  the  scene. 

After  this  performance  was  over  we  made  our 
way  back  to  the  camp  and,  as  evening  was 
approaching,  prepared  to  spend  a  short  time  in 
fishing.        Leaving  Tomassi,  one  of  the   boys, 


THE    All  m  IK,    M  K. 

f  rotn 


to  prepare  the  supper,  we  rowed  off  in  our  tiny 
dory  and  set  our  net  across  the  mouth  of  a  little 
creek  that  ran  into  the  sea  not  far  from  the 
place  which  we  had  selected  as  a  camping  spot. 
When  the  net  was  satisfactorily  placed  we  put 
out  our  trolls,  and  Turago,  the  second  boy,  took 
charge  of  the  oars.  The  evening  was  glorious, 
and  the  fish  did  their  best  to  make  the  time 
pass  pleasantly.  We  soon  had  enough  and 
pulled  back  to  camp. 

After  supper  had  been  served  we  should  have 
liked  to  have  gone  for  a  swim,  but  our  presence 
had  attracted  an  undesirable,  curiosity-stricken 
visitor  to  the  neighbourhood,  and   the   appear- 
ance   of    a    long    black    fin 
gliding  slowly  back  and  forth 
in   the   limpid  water  warned 
us  to  stay  on  shore. 

When  the  quick,  short 
twilight  of  the  tropics  was 
over  and  the  white  moon 
shed  her  beams  over  the 
landscape,  we  lay  and 
smoked  our  pipes,  listening 
to  the  beat  of  a  "lalee"  in 
some  distant  village  and  the 
sound  of  the  wavelets  on 
the  beach. 

The  next  morning  we  rose 

before  sunrise  and  prepared 

for   the    day's    sport.      After 

partaking    of    a   rather   light 

repast,   which    the   two   boys 

had    prepared,  we    took    the 

dory  and  all   four  of  us    set 

out  for    the   spot  where    we 

had     set    the    net    the    day 

before.  As  we  approached  the 

place  we  could  tell  from  the 

commotion  in  the  water  that 

some  larger  game  than  we  had   bargained  for 

had    got    into    the    flimsy    prison    during    the 

night. 

Our  first  thought,  of  course,  was  of  sharks. 
These  terrible  creatures,  so  numerous  in  the 
tropics,  are  the  scourge  of  all  who  have  aught 
to  do  with  the  sea.  They  prevent  sea-bathing, 
they  strike  terror  to  all  who  are  unluckily  cap- 
sized into  the  water,  and  they  seriously  trouble 
the  fisherman. 

Now,  the  natives  of  the  South  Sea  Isles  are 
the  best  swimmers  and  divers  in  the  world. 
An  islander  armed  only  with  a  sharp,  strong 
knife  will  dive  into  the  water  and  do  battle  with 
a  shark  or  other  large  fish  in  its  own  element 
without  any  fear  ;  only  the  great  "  stingaree  " 
(sting-ray)  do  they  hesitate  about  attacking. 

In  order  to  clear  the  net  of  the  unwelcome 
visitor  I  ordered  Tomassi  to  dive  and  kill  the 


CHAKI.ES   k.    maklatt. 
a  Photo. 


A    FIGHT    WITH    A    STING-RAY. 


213 


creature,  whatever  it  was,  before  it  made  useless 
strings  of  our  net.  The  boy  promptly  took  up 
his  knife  and,  casting  off  his  "  sula  "  ^loin-cloth), 
unhesitatingly  slid  into  the  water  as  noiselessly 
as  an  eel. 

Tomassi  was  an  expert  diver  and  had  often 


an   unerring  slash,  cutting  a  deep  gash  in  the 
flesh  of  whatever  it  comes  into  contact  with. 

I  looked  at  the  other  Fijian.  His  Face  was  a 
blue  and  horrible  colour,  and  his  teeth  chattered 
with  fear.  Not  so  Harry ;  he  was  busily 
engaged  in  getting  ready   the  harpoon   that  we 


HE   SLID    INTO    TH 


done  the  same  thing  for  us  before,  so  that  we 
felt  no  anxiety  on  his  behalf.  When,  however, 
after  a  lapse  of  two  or  three  minutes,  he  did  not 
reappear,  Harry  began  to  get  uneasy,  fearing 
that  the  boy  had  got  tangled  up  in  the  meshes 
of  the  net. 

Just  then  a  dark  red  stain  appeared  on  the 
surface  of  the  water,  spreading  itself  slowly 
over  the  place  where  the  shiny  brown  body  of 
the  boy  had  disappeared.  Surely,  we  thought, 
it  was  the  blood  of  the  shark,  and  we  waited 
anxiously  for  Tomassi's  reappearance. 

As  we  watched  a  long,  flexible  object  whipped 
suddenly  out  of  the  water,  and  falling  across  the 
net  cut  it  as  if  it  were  a  cobweb.  Then,  with  a 
thrill  of  alarm,  we  realized  why  Tomassi  had  not 
reappeared  on  the  surface.  Instead  of  a  shark, 
he  had  met  with  the  dreaded  sting-ray,  more 
dangerous  far  than  any  shark  that  haunts  the 
seas !  The  long,  flexible  tail  of  this  terrible 
creature  is  armed  with  two  sickle-like  spines, 
sharp  as  the  keenest  razors,  and  forming  the 
animal's  only  weapon  of  offence  and  defence. 
With  lightning-like  rapidity  the  fish   can  deliver 


had  brought  along  in  case  of  just  some  such 
emergency  as  now  confronted  us. 

Meanwhile  the  great  ray  was  rushing  back- 
wards and  forwards  against  the  net,  trying  to 
free  himself  from  the  meshes  that  enveloped 
him.  These  fish,  by  the  way,  are  noted 
for  an  incomprehensibly  fiendish  temper,  wait- 
ing no  cause  of  attack  and  never  knowing 
when  they  are  beaten.  Every  moment  his 
actions  became  more  and  more  agitated  and 
excited  as  he  worked  himself  up  to  a  greater 
pitch  of  fury. 

Harry  cast  the  harpoon  twice  unsuccessfully, 
but  the  third  time  he  struck  the  brute  fair  and 
square  in  the  middle  of  his  broad,  round  bark, 
where  the  lance  buried  its  point  a  foot  deep  in 
the  cartilaginous  flesh.  The  effect  of  this  painful 
stab  seemed  to  be  to  draw  the  creature's  atten- 
tion to  the  boat,  for  with  one  mad  rush  he  burst 
through  the  battered  remains  of  the  net  and 
made  a  swift  charge  right  at  us.  With  the  speed 
of  an  express  train  he  came,  gathering  momentum 
at  every  foot  and  hurling  the  water  to  right  and 
left  in  masses  of  foam,  till  he  struck  us  fair  and 


214 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


hard,  so  that  the  little  boat  shook  and  careened 
over  till  I  thought  she  would  capsize.  -Then  the 
harpoon  line,  which  was  fast  to  the  gunwale  in 
the  bow,  tightened  with  a  twang,  and  we 
started  through  the  water  at  a  speed  that  the 
Iki  Vuka  at  her  best  had  never  rivalled.  But 
the  mad  demon  at  the  other  end  of  the  line 
could  not  stand  the  strain,  and  suddenly  the 
line  slackened  and  we  ceased  to  move.  Harry 
sat  in  the  bows  intently  watching  for  the  next 
move  of  the  troublesome  creature,  when  suddenly, 
as  I  watched  him,  he  crouched  low  in  the  bottom 
of  the  dory  and  shouted  to  us  to  do  the  same. 
Then,  with  a  swish  and  a  sprinkle  of  salty  water, 


So  it  happened  that  just  as  I  was  pulling  myself 
up  on  one  side  he  appeared  on  the  other,  and 
we  both  scrambled  aboard  at  the  same  time. 

Once  safely  out  of  danger  we  looked  around 
on  the  scene  of  the  late  accident.  A  few 
planks  floating  around  the  broken  hull  of  the 
dory  were  all  that  was  to  be  seen  ;  but  as  we 
watched,  a  broad,  black,  shiny  back  appeared 
in  their  midst.  The  terrible  tail  lashed  the 
water  furiously  for  a  few  seconds,  and  then 
slowly  the  big  body  turned  over  on  its  back  an  1 
showed  us  a  deep,  long  gash  on  the  glistening 
white  belly.  Evidently  Turago  had  dived  under 
the  monster  and  given    it  a  mortal  wound  with 


THE   CREEK    WHEKE    THE    BATTLE    WITH    THE    STING-RAY     I'OOK    II. ACE. 

From  a  Photo. 


a  dark  form  of  great  size  shot  clean  over  the 
dory,  the  end  of  the  terrible  tail  dragging  across 
the  thwarts  as  it  took  the  water  at  the  other  side. 

Without  pausing  the  fish  turned  again  imme- 
diately and  made  straight  at  us.  Like  a  torpedo 
he  came,  swimming  almost  on  the  surface,  and 
I  shall  never  forget  the  horror  I  experienced  as 
he  charged  down  upon  us.  Suddenly  there  was 
a  violent  collision,  a  crash,  and  we  were  in  the 
water  with  him  ! 

When  I  came  to  the  surface  I  realized  the 
imminent  peril  of  the  situation  and  the  neces- 
sity for  getting  away  from  the  dangerous  neigh- 
bourhood of  that  deadly  tail  as  soon  as  possible. 
Accordingly  I  took  a  long,  deep  dive  towards 
the  cutter,  which  was  anchored  not  far  from  the 
scene  of  this  strange  combat.  I  came  to  the 
surface  twice  in  the  intervening  fifty  yards,  and 
then  pulled  myself  quickly  on  board.  Harry's 
tactics  had  been  of  a  like  character,  only  in  his 
zeal  to  escape  he  so  far  overshot  the  mark  as  to 
pass  clean    under  the   cutter  in   his  last  dive. 


his  knife.  We  looked  round  to  see  what  had 
become  of  the  brave  boy.  We  had  no  fear  for 
his  personal  safety,  for  he  could  have  dived  to 
the  shore  without  any  difficulty,  under  ordinary 
circumstances.  Happening  to  glance  in  the 
direction  of  the  spot  where  the  net  had  been 
set  I  saw  him  swimming  towards  us,  bearing  the 
unconscious  Tomassi  with  him.  We  pulled 
them  aboard  in  a  hurry.  Turago  appeared 
none  the  worse  for  his  adventure,  but  the  other 
boy  was  in  a  very  bad  state,  having  received  a 
deep  wound  on  the  thigh  which  had  laid  the 
flesh  open  to  the  bone,  and  had  caused  the 
poor  fellow  to  bleed  almost  to  death. 

As  quickly  as  possible  we  got  under  way,  and 
shortly  after  sunrise  were  bowling  back  to  Suva 
before  a  fair  breeze.  With  Turago  curled  up  in 
the  bows,  and  Tomassi  bearing  his  sufferings 
stoically,  Harry  and  I  sat  in  the  stern  and 
talked  over  the  adventure,  especially  that  part 
of  it  in  which  Turago  had  shown  such  great 
bravery  and  presence  of  mind.     It  had  been  a 


A    FIGHT    WITH    A    STING- RAY. 


215 


grwat  tax  on  the  boy's  nerves  and  strength,  first 
to  kill  the  ferocious  monster  with  no  weapon 
but  his  knife,  and  then  to  swim  to  the  rescue  of 
his  companion,  whom  he  knew  to  be  either 
wounded  or  dead;  and  now  he  lay  quietly 
sleeping,  taking  a  well-earned  rest,  while  the 
Iki  Vuka  swiftly  bore  his  wounded  companion 
homewards.  After  we  had  got  well  under  way 
Harry  had  stopped  the  flow  of  blood  by  a 
hastily-made  tourniquet,  tying  a  handkerchief 
around  the  limb  above  the  wound  and  tighten- 


The  sharks  had  partly  demolished  the  gr 
body  before  it  drifted  into  shallow  water  near 
the  shore,  but  the  long,  leathery  tail  had 
proved  too  tough  even  for  a  hungry  shark, 
and  as  it  was  still  intact  I  cut  it  off  and 
took  it  home  to  preserve  as  a  souvenir  of  the 
adventure. 

We  measured  the  great  ray  across  its  broad 
back  and  found  it  to  be  a  trifle  over  eight  feet 
wide,  while  the  length  was  slightly  greater,  though 
in   shape  the  fish   is  almost   round.      The  tail 


I   CUT    IT   OFF    AS   A    SOUVENIR   OF    THE    ADVENTURE. 


ing  it  with  a  stick.  Although  poor  Tomassi 
was  not  groaning  or  complaining  of  the  pain 
he  was  suffering  terribly,  for  his  face  was  a 
sickly,  ashy  colour,  and  he  seemed  to  sink  into 
a  sort  of  stupor  as  the  time  went  by.  When, 
two  hours  later,  we  pulled  into  Suva,  he  was 
still  alive,  though  quite  unconscious. 

After  committing  him  to  the  doctor's  care, 
and  doing  all  in  our  power  to  see  that  he  was 
made  comfortable,  we  had  to  set  out  for  Beqa 
again  to  secure  the  remainder  of  our  camping 
outfit.  It  was  mid-afternoon  when  we  reached 
the  island  on  the  second  trip,  and  after  hastily 
gathering  up  our  belongings  we  set  out  to  see 
what  had  become  of  the  body  of  the  horrible 
creature  who  had  spoiled  our  day's  sport  at  such 
great  risk  to  our  lives  and  property. 


was  ten  feet  long,  and  tapered  away  as  slim 
as  a  whip-lash.  It  is  covered  with  tiny 
spines,  only  one,  or  at  most  two,  of  which, 
fortunately,  develop  into  the  terrible  knife-like 
appendages  which  had  proved  so  disastrous  to 
Tomassi. 

As  Harry  and  I  stood  on  the  deck  of  the 
homeward-bound  liner  that  Christmas,  and  took 
our  last  look  at  the  green  hills  of  Viti  Levu 
and  the  fast-receding  pier,  we  saw  two  figures. 
one  of  which  flourished  a  crutch,  while  the 
other,  supporting  him,  found  time  with  his  free 
hand  to  wave  a  signal  of  farewell.  It  was  the 
newly- convalescent  Tomassi  and  his  brave 
friend  Turago  having  their  last  look  at  the 
two  white  men  who  had  shared  so  terrible  an 
experience  with  them. 


With  a  Camera  in  Chota  Nagpore. 

By  F.   B.  Bradley-Birt,  F.R.G.S.,  of  the  Indian  Civil   Service. 

A    Government  official    describes    and    illustrates  some  phases  of  life  in  Chota  Nagpore,  a  remote  and 
little-known  province  of  our  Indian  Empire,  inhabhed  by  a  primitive  and  most  interesting  people. 


HOTA  NAGPORE  lies  far  from 
the  beaten  track,  in  the  south-west 
corner  of  Bengal,  and  lew  tourists 
find  their  way  so  far  afield.  Yet, 
although  it  has  few  of  the  historical 
associations  of  Northern  India  and  little  of  the 
handiwork  of  man  to  attract  the  sightseer  within 
its  borders,  it  is  a  land  full  of  charm  and  natural 
beauty.  Range  after  range  of  steep,  tree-clad 
hills  rise  to  a  height  of  over  two  thousand  feet, 
many  of  them  crowned  by  huge  masses  of  rocks 
that  form  picturesque  and  fantastic  shapes 
against  the  sky.  Peopled  by  over  thirty  dif- 
ferent races,  most  of  them  aboriginal,  each 
speaking  its  own  language  and  with  its  own 
peculiar  customs  and  traditions,  it  is  a  country 
that  still  retains  much  of  its  primitiveness,  undis- 
turbed even  in  the  twentieth  century  and  amidst 
the  great  advance  that  these  latter  days  have 
brought  to  India. 

The  illustrations  accompanying  this  article 
show  something  of  the  daily  round  of  life  that 
has  gone  on  in  ceaseless  and  never-varying 
monotony  for  countless  generations  amongst 
these  simple  and  backward  races.  They  are 
a  contented  and  happy  people,  fearful  only 
of  the  multitudes  of  spirits  with  which  their 
imagination  peoples 
the  earth,  and  to  whose 
agency  they  ascribe  all 
those  things  for  which 
their  limited  intelli- 
gences fail  to  discover 
a  satisfactory  explana- 
tion. 

Industrious  as  most 
of  these  aboriginal 
people  are,  they  are 
passionately  devoted  to 
dancing  and  merry- 
making, in  which  the 
whole  village  joins.  For 
these  festive  gatherings, 
which  are  of  frequent 
occurrence,  the  young 
men  and  girls  deck 
themselves  out  in  all 
the  finery  they  possess. 


Living  an  open-air  life  and  accustomed  to 
daily  toil  in  the  fields,  they  are  able  to  stand 
any  amount  of  bodily  fatigue.  It  is  no  unusual 
thing  for  them  to  do  their  day's  labour  with  the 
plough  and  to  dance  all  night,  with  much  im- 
bibing of  "  haria  "  (country  liquor),  until  well 
on  into  the  following  day,  when  they  go  straight 
off  again  to  their  daily  occupations  with  all 
the  ease  of  the  most  hardened  revellers.  The 
dances,  as  a  rule,  have  a  slow,  monotonous 
movement,  quaint  and  graceful,  and  are  per- 
formed in  perfect  time  and  unison  ;  but  they 
are  wearying  to  distraction  to  anyone  not  to 
the  manner  born.  The  "  pakdon,"  or  the  sword 
and  shield  dance,  of  the  Santal  youth,  seen  in 
the  accompanying  photograph,  is  of  a  more 
vigorous  description.  It  was  danced  in  the 
old  days  on  the  eve  of  battle  with  terrific 
energy,  and  none  but  the  pick  of  Santal 
youth  danced  it.  But  the  Santal  rebellion 
robbed  them  of  the  right  to  carry  the  sword, 
which  has  now  perforce  given  way  to  the  less 
formidable  staff,  but  the  shields  are  as  much  in 
use  and  as  carefully  polished  as  ever ;  and  as 
the  dancers,  flinging  aloft  their  staves  and 
shields,  leap  into  the  air  with  wild,  unearthly 
yells  of  excitement  and   enthusiasm,  the   scene 


THE   CURIOUS    SWORD  AND  SHIELD    DANCE    OF    THE   SANTALS. 


[Photo. 


WITH    A    CAMERA    IN    CHOTA    NAGPORE 


217 


From  a]      the  "  sagar,"  a  primitive  conveyance  with  solid  wooden  wheels.        [Photo. 


loses  little    of  the    quaint   picturesqueness    of 
former  days. 

For  over  a  hundred  miles  the  Grand  Trunk 
Road  runs  through  Chota  Nagpore,  and  no- 
where along  its  route  to-day  does  it  retain  more 
of  the  picturesqueness  that  characterized  it  in 
its  earlier  days,  before  the  coming  of  the  railway 
had  robbed  it  of  its  importance  as  the  great  high- 
way of  Upper  India.  At  Barakar,  on  the  eastern- 
most border  of  Chota  Nagpore,  road  and  railway 
part  never  to  meet  again  within  the  province, 
though  even  this  immunity  is  at  last  threatened 
by  a  lately  projected  line  of  rail.  Consequently 
much  of  the  traffic  still  remains,  as  from  the 
heart  of  the  district  travellers  must  needs  pass 
up  or  down  its  length  to  reach  their  destination 
or  the  nearest  station  on  the  railway. 

Very  quaint  and  picturesque 
are  the  scenes  and  peoples  to  be 
met  with  on  the  way.  There 
is  nothing  modern  save  the  tele- 
graph posts  and  wires  that  run 
along  its  length ;  nothing  to 
remind  one  that  this  is  the 
twentieth  century,  save,  perhaps, 
an  occasional  bicyclist  from 
Hazaribagh,  execrating  the  un- 
evenness  of  the  road  as  he 
hurries  on  to  the  railway  station, 
seventy  -  three  miles  away,  or, 
more  rarely  still,  a  chance  tourist 
attracted  by  the  old-world  charm 
of  this  out-of-the-way  corner  of 
India.  There  is  no  haste  on  the 
Grand  Trunk,  and  the  various 
modes  of  travelling  in  vogue  are 
in  no   way  adapted    for  speed. 


The  bullock  -  carts,  by 
means  of  which  most  of 
the  traffic  is  done,  creep 
along  at  the  rate  of  two 
miles  an  hour,  the  oxen 
moving  with  true  Eastern 
desultoriness  and  the 
driver  peacefully  drows- 
ing inside.  The  sagar — 
seen  in  the  photo,  here- 
with —  is  a  still  more 
primitive  conveyance, 
the  wheels  being  made 
of  solid  wood  and  creak- 
ing and  groaning  with  a 
noise  like  the  swinging 
to  and  fro  of  many  long- 
disused  doors. 

The  push-push  is  only 
one  degree  faster.  Most 
of  the  sahibs — and  they 
are  few — who  are  to  be 
met  with  on  this  part  of  the  Grand  Trunk  Road 
are  to  be  found  uncomfortably  ensconced  in  these 
most  uncompromising  of  vehicles.  They  resemble 
nothing  so  much  as  bathing-machines  on  two 
wheels,  save  that  they  are  not  nearly  so 
large  and  roomy.  Little  more  than  four  feet 
high  and  five  feet  long,  it  is  impossible  to  either 
sit  or  lie  with  any  comfort.  Small  people  come 
off  best ;  particularly  tall  travellers  have  a  very 
bad  time  of  it  on  a  push-push  journey,  and, 
although  for  the  first  stage  it  is  a  novel  ex- 
perience, it  becomes  quite  a  different  matter  by 
the  time  one  has  crawled  over  seventy  miles  at 
the  rate  of  four  miles  an  hour. 

The  native  babu  still  clings  to  the  palki, 
borne  by  coolies,  as  his  chief  form  of  locomotion. 
It  has  most  of  the  disadvantages  of  the  push- 


From  a] 


"  PUSH-PUSHES  "    WAITING    FOR    HIRE. 


riioto. 


Vol.  xiv.-28. 


2l8 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


From  a] 


THE    NATIVE    BABU    STILL   CLINGS   TO   THE    1'ALKI. 


[Photo. 


push  with  none  of  its  solidity,  and,  once  inside, 
one  has  to  move  with  care  or  the  whole  thing 
sways  and  lurches  ominously,  while  there  is 
always  the  fear  that  the  coolies  may  suddenly 
let  one  down  altogether. 

The  next  illustration  shows  a  typical  bit  of  the 
Grand  Trunk  Road,  bordered  by  trees  on  either 
side  and  with  a  bullock-cart  buried  beneath  a 
load  of  straw  slowly  wending  its  way  along. 

Not  far  away  towers  the  Hill  of  Parasnath, 


the  home  of  the  gods,  and  a  famous  place  of 
pilgrimage  of  the  Jains.  This  hill  dominates 
the  road  for  miles.  The  temple  itself — seen  in 
one  of  the  photographs  —  is  situated  on  the 
loftiest  peak  of  the  hill,  over  four  thousand  feet 
high,  looking  down  on  the  plains  far  below. 
Gleaming  brilliant  white  and  gold  against  the 
sky,  with  its  air  of  serene  aloofness,  it  is 
esteemed  a  veritable  holy  of  holies  by  the  Jains, 
and  attracts  pilgrims  from  all  Northern  India. 


From  a 


Photo. 


WITH    A    CAMERA    IN    CHOTA    NAGPORE. 


219 


THE    HILL   OF    PARASNATK,    THE    LEGENDARY    HOME    OF    THE    GODS- 

From  a  Photo. 

The  Santals,  one  of  the  most  interesting  races 
that  people  Chota  Nagpore,  have  a  legend  that 
it  was  Marang  Buru,  the  Great  Spirit  of  their 
mythology,  who  first  taught  their  ancestors  how 
to  make  "  haria,"  the  native  liquor,  of  which  all 
the  aboriginal  races  are  passionately  fond.  This 
supposed  divine  origin  is  a  convenient  cloak  for 
occasional  lapses   into  excess,    and   the   native 


certainly  does  not 
fail  to  show  to  the 
full  his  apprecia- 
tion of  this  seduc- 
tive "gift  of  the 
gods."  Our  next 
illustration  shows  a 
liquor  shop  —  the 
Santal  equivalent 
of  a  public-house 
— where  the  much- 
loved  "  haria  "  is 
brewed.  It  is  the 
most  tumble-down 
of  buildings,  with 
its  roof  of  ragged 
thatch,  leaking 
badly  in  the  rains 
and  affording  even 
less  shelter  than  the 
magnificent  tree 
beneath  the  shade 
of  which  it  stands. 
The  customers  are 
quite  content  to 
imbibe  outside  in  the  open,  crowding  round  a 
fire  for  warmth  in  the  winter  months  or  lounging 
at  their  ease  to  catch  the  faintest  breath  of 
air  that  stirs  in  the  stifling  summer  nights. 
Only  in  the  rains  is  it  necessary  to  seek  such 
further  shelter  as  the  ruinous  building  affords. 

A  gipsy  encampment   of   Gulgulias — one  of 
the  wildest  and   most  backward  tribes    in    all 


■IT    IS    A    FAMOUS    PLACE    OF    PILGRIMAGE. 


A    WAYSIDE    LlyUOR    SHOP,    WHEKE    THE    SANTALS    IMBIBE     1HEIK    CHERISHED    "HARIA. 

From  a  Plioto. 


220 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


From  a\ 


AN    ENCAMPMENT   OF   GULGULIAS,    THE   GIPSIES    OF    NAGPORE. 


[Photo. 


Chota  Nagpore  —  lies  just   beyond    the   liquor 

shop,     furnishing    a    never  -  failing    supply     of 

custom.     While  other  races,  after  many  centuries 

of  wandering,  have  at  last  settled  down  to  become 

more  or  less  peaceable,  law-abiding  subjects  of 

the    British    Raj,    the    Gulgulias    still    continue 

their    nomad    life,    shy    of    the     first    sign     of 

civilization,    and    only    to    be    found    in    their 

encampments  on   the   outskirts   of  the  jungle. 

How  they  manage  to  exist  is  a  mystery  known 

only    to    themselves,  but,    as  the 

illustration  testifies,  their  wants  in 

the  way  of  clothing  and    housing 

accommodation  are  not  exacting. 

They  are  adepts  at  snaring  birds 

and  beasts,  and  the  jungle  affords 

them  a  continual  supply  of  roots 

and  fruits.     Monkeys,  dogs,  and 

birds,     too,    once     caught     and 

quickly    trained    to   a    variety    of 

small  feats  with  all  the  native  skill 

of    the    backwoodsman,    can    be 

exchanged    when     they    venture 

near  the  haunts  of  men   in    the 

larger    towns    for    a    few    rupees, 

which  to  them  mean  vast  wealth. 

Of  primitive  tastes  and  habits, 
the  drinking  of  "  haria  "  is,  in  fact, 
almost  the  only  form  of  amus  - 
ment  indulged  in  by  these  back- 
ward tribes,  and  at  every  great 
event  or  festival  it  plays  a  con- 
spicuous part.  The  marriage 
ceremony  is  naturally  conducive 
to   conviviality,    and     the    guests 


imbibe  vast  quantities  of  "haria"  during  its 
protracted  course.  The  expense  falls  on  the 
bride's  father,  but  he  is  well  able  to  afford  it, 
since  a  "price"  for  his  daughter — in  cash  or 
heads  of  cattle,  to  be  paid  by  the  bridegroom's 
family — has  been  fixed  upon  during  the  long 
preliminaries  that  precede  the  nuptials. 
Consequently  there  is  a  large  supply  of 
"  haria,"  and  guests  assemble  from  far  and  near. 
All   the    neighbours    have   previously   received 


A    SANTAL    WEDDING    I'ARTV. 


[/'//«./<>. 


WITH    A    CAMERA    IN    CHOTA    NAGPORE 


2  2  I 


invitations,  consisting  of 
pieces  of  string  with  a 
number  of  knots  tied  to 
represent  the  number  of 
days  that  are  to  elapse 
before  the  appointed 
day.  It  is  a  useful  form 
of  calendar.  A  knot 
can  be  undone  at  every 
sunrise,  so  that  there 
can  be  no  mistaking  the 
date  when  the  happy 
day  has  at  length  arrived. 
Then  the  bridegroom, 
with  all  his  friends,  pro- 
ceeds to  the  bride's 
house  and  the  special 
form  of  marriage  that 
his  tribe  sanctions  is 
gone  through.  Nearly  all 
of  them  include  the 
marking  of  the  bride's 
forehead  with  "  sindur  " 
(vermilion)  by  the  bride- 
groom as  an  essential  part  of  the  ceremony,  and 
much  dancing  and  singing.  The  loud  beatings 
of  drums  and  kettledrums  and  the  braying  of 
horns,  with  much  drinking  of  "  haria,"  form  an 
invariable  accompaniment  of  them  all. 

Even  their  funeral  ceremonies  end  no  less 
convivially.  Like  the  Hindus,  the  tribesmen 
burn  their  dead  on  the  funeral  pyre,  but  unlike  the 
latter  they  bury  the  ashes  beneath  huge  memorial 
stones — rough,  uneven  slabs  of  rock,  without  in- 
scription, which,  grouped  beneath  the  shade  of 
some  magnificent  monarch  of  the  forest  in  a 
secluded  spot  outside  the  village,  form  natural  and 
impressive,  though  silent,  reminders  of  the  dead. 


A    NATIVE    GRAVEYARD — THE 

From  a]  uneve 


DEAD    AKE    CREMATED     AND     THEIR     ASHES     BURIED 
N    SLABS   OF    ROCK,    WITHOUT    ANY'    INSCRIPTION. 


BENEA1  II     HUGE, 

[Photo. 


The  last  illustration  forms  an  object-lesson. 
The  local  gaols  never  fail  of  inmates,  and  only 
too  many  of  them,  as  in  more  civilized  com- 
munities, owe  their  incarceration  to  the  imbibing 
of  much  strong  liquor.  Hard  labour — and 
drawing  water  from  the  prison  well  is  not  the 
worst  form  of  it — is  not  a  thing  to  be  desired, 
takes  it  with  true  Eastern 
resignation.  Of  what  use 
against  the  decree  of  Fate? 
what  the  gods  send  and  do 
hard     labour    till     the    evil 


but    the    native 
indifference   and 
is    it    to   struggle 
One    must    take 
the    minimum    of 


time    has 
of   life    in 


passed.       That    is 
Chota   Nagpore. 


the    philosophy 


From  a 


CONVICTS    DRAWING    WATER    FROM    THE    PRISON    WELL. 


[Photo. 


Widow  Simpson's  Journey. 

THE    STORY    OF    A    TERRIBLE    EXPERIENCE. 
By  J.  L.  von  Blon,  of  Los  Angeles,  California. 

How  a  poor  widow  and  her  five  young  children,  endeavouring  to  travel  by  waggon  from  Utah  to 

California,  became  lost  in  the  arid  wastes  of  the  "  Great  American  Desert."     The  experiences  that 

befell  the  little  party  are  without  a  parallel  in  the  history  of  the  West. 


glowing 


TTR ACTED  by  the  glowing  mis 
representations  of  a  pretended  friend, 
Mrs.  Amelia  Simpson,  a  poor  widow 
of  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah,  determined 
to  drive  with  her  five  young  children 
to  Los  Angeles,  in  Southern  California.  The 
journey  which  ensued  is  without  parallel  even  in 
Western  America,  the  scene  of  thrilling  frontier 
adventures  and  peculiar  hardships  unknown  any- 
where else  in  the  world. 

On  the  morning  of  October  18th,  1903,  as  the 
sun's  first  rays  glinted  on  the 
inland  sea  and  gilded  the 
white  spires  of  the  Mormon 
Temple,  the  pathetic  little 
emigrant  party  started  south- 
ward, happy  in  anticipation 
of  a  brighter  lot  than  had 
been  theirs  hitherto.  Plung- 
ing blindly  into  the  mighty 
south  -  western  desert  —  that 
vast  death-trap  which  has 
engulfed  thousands  of  strong 
men— and  struggling  wildly 
for  more  than  a  hundred  days 
over  fourteen  hundred  miles 
of  its  unspeakable  wastes, 
this  woman  and  her  children, 
one  a  mere  babe,  heroically 
fought  manifold  dangers,  suf- 
fered indescribable  tortures, 
and  all  but  perished  before 
they  passed  safely  but 
miraculously  through  an 
almost  incredible  ordeal. 
But  I  am  anticipating. 

From  the  "  City  of  the  Saints  "  to  the  "  City 
of  the  Angels  :'  is  a  far  cry — not  less  than  eight 
hundred  miles  as  the  crow  flies — and  the  nearest 
driving  route  is  a  thousand  miles.  This  route, 
however,  has  never  been  traversed.  An  uncon- 
querable wilderness — rough,  desolate,  and  water- 
less—  dominated  by  the  coyote  and  the  thorn- 
bush  and  withered  by  a  parching  sun,  yawns 
between  the  two  places.  Many  a  venturesome 
prospector  who  has  gone  into  the  region  to 
hunt  the  mineral  treasure  locked  in  the  dry 
rivers  and  the  barren  mountains  has  never 
returned-     Scattered  bones  of  men  and  beasts, 


MRS.    AMELIA    SIMPSON, 
ENCES   IN    THE    " GREAT 

From  a\  here 


with  rattlesnakes  and  lizards  and  horned  toads 
gliding  about  them  on  the  shimmering  sands, 
tell  the  story — all  but  the  horror  of  it  ! 

Mrs.  Simpson,  working  hard  to  earn  a  bare 
living  and  eager  to  better  the  condition  of 
herself  and  family,  did  not  comprehend  the  true 
situation,  and  was  easily  beguiled  by  a  heartless 
villain  who,  for  reasons  unknown,  desired  to  get 
the  widow  and  her  children  out  of  the  way. 
He  falsely  told  her  they  could  cross  the  desert 
in  two  or  three  weeks  and  obtain  good  land  for 
a  home  free  at  their  destina- 
tion. Accordingly  the  poor 
woman  sold  all  she  possessed 
and  used  most  of  the  pro- 
ceeds for  purchasing  a  meagre 
outfit,  consisting  principally 
of  a  canvas-covered  lumber 
waggon,  half-a-dozen  horses,- 
and  a  mule.  A  stove,  water- 
tank,  bedding,  and  several 
weeks'  provisions  were  taken 
aboard,  and  then  the  "  prairie 
schooner  "  set  sail,  the  faith- 
ful dog,  Vic,  trotting  behind. 
With  their  mother  were 
William  Simpson,  aged  six- 
teen, who  drove  the  team  ; 
James,  fourteen,  who  looked 
after  the  additional  animals  ; 
Llla,  twelve ;  Anna,  nine  ; 
and  the  .baby,  Agnes  Wini- 
fred—"little  Winnie" — not 
yet  two.  They  had  not 
even  a  compass  to  guide 
them,  not  a  firearm  for  pro- 
tection, and  not  a  bottle  of  medicine. 

On  the  fourth  day,  before  they  had  travelled 
a  hundred  miles  from  the  Utah  capital,  they  had 
lost  their  way  and  were  going  in  the  wrong 
direction — west,  instead  of  south.  The  roads, 
however,  were  excellent,  the  autumn  weather 
splendid,  and  they  made  rapid  progress  for 
several  days.  Then  they  saw  less  vegetation 
and  fewer  habitations.  The  earth  was  baked 
and  the  sun  and  wind  blistering.  They  were 
coming  upon  the  Great  American  Desert,  and  the 
seriousness  of  their  undertaking  began  to  dawn 
upon  them.     Of  the  terrible   days  and  lonely 


WHOSE   TERRHiLE    EXPERl- 
A.MER1CAN    DESF.Rl"    ARE 
RELATED.  [Pkflto. 


WIDOW    SIMPSON'S    JOURNEY. 


223 


nights,  the  burning  heat  and  the  biting  cold 
experienced,  no  account  will  be  taken  here,  for 
these  were  but  a  foretaste  of  the  horrors  to 
come.  The  immense  arid  lake-bed  was  crossed 
at  its  southern  end  and  one  horse  was  left  dead 
upon  the  trail,  which  had,  fortunately,  been 
found  and  kept.  Here  the  poor  widow  dis- 
covered the  almost  fatal  mistake  of  having  a 
narrow-tyred  waggon  for  desert  work,  for  the 
wheels  cut  deeply  into  the  sand  and  sometimes 
made  progress  almost  impossible,  even  with 
four  horses  tugging  at  the  load.  This  proved  a 
drawback  through- 
out nearly  the  whole 
memorable  journey. 
On  November 
12th  the  wanderers, 
believing  them- 
selves now  well  on 
the  way  to  the  pro- 
mised land,  drove 
tediously  up  to  a 
ranch-house  for 
water.  They  were 
amazed  when  in- 
formed they  were 
on  the  boundary 
line  of  Nevada  in- 
stead of  in  the 
south  end  of  the 
Mormon  territory. 
Weary  and  half- 
disheartened,  the 
three  smaller  chil- 
dren sick,  the  horses 
suffering,  and  their 
own  food  supply 
depleted,  Mrs. 
Simpson,  after  a 
consultation  in  the 
hamlet  of  Antelope 
Springs,  where  she 
was  begged  not  to 
try  to  go  farther, 
decided  upon  an 
ill-advised  course — 

to  travel  down  through  Central  Nevada,  aiming 
to  pass  to  the  westward  of  Death  Valley,  the  one 
place  they  had  learned  long  ago  to  fear.  That 
step  marked  the  real  beginning  of  what  was, 
perhaps,  the  most  perilous  trip  ever  attempted 
by  a  woman.  Winter  was  approaching  in  that 
elevated  region.  The  home  on  wheels  already 
afforded  inadequate  protection,  and  the  water 
froze  in  the  tank.  Nevertheless,  the  brave 
mother  and  her  boys  and  girls  pressed  slowly, 
steadily  onward  through  an  almost  impenetrable 
country  studded  with  mountain  ranges,  deep 
canyons,    and   rugged   table-lands.     Soon    they 


reached  a  point  where  there  could  be  no  turning 
back,  gladly  though  they  would  have  done  so. 


There  was    great    danger    in 


fording 


the  swift 


streams  and  crossing  gorges  and  narrow  passes 
with  practically  no  trails,  and  heavy  rains  left 
turbulent  floods  behind  them.  There  was  no 
way  open  except  ahead.  The  purse  was  scant, 
and  mining  camps  where  supplies  could  be 
bought  infrequent.  There  were  many  days  of 
half  rations  and  hunger. 

Late     one     afternoon     near     the     close    of 
November  the  little  caravan  halted  in  a  patch 

of  green  at  the  base 
of  a  mountain  near 
Pinto  to  let  the 
horses  graze.  The 
two  boys  and  the 
eldest  girl,  Ella, 
took  the  animals  in 
different  directions. 
A  snow  flurry  began, 
darkness  came,  and 
the  girl  did  not 
return.  The  frantic 
mother  and  bro- 
thers searched  and 
called  in  vain,  for 
the  storm  increased 
momentarily  and 
blew  blinding  sheets 
of  icy  sleet  in  their 
faces.  All  that  long 
night  there  was 
terror  instead  of 
sleep  in  the  wind- 
swayed  waggon. 

And  the  lost  girl? 
This  child  of  twelve 
accepted  the  situa- 
tion philosophi- 
cally. After  re- 
peated failures  to 
find  the  way  she 
"  staked  "  her  horse 


t 


THE    FRANTIC   MOTHER   AND    BROTHERS    SEARCHED    AND   CALLED    IN    VAIN. 


with  a  rock,  lay 
down  near  him  in 
the  greasewood  brush,  and  slept !  The  barking  of 
the  desert  wolves  and  the  moaning  of  the  moun- 
tain gale  did  not  frighten  this  true  daughter  of 
the  West,  lost  on  the  lonely  steppe,  but  she 
contracted  a  cold  which  nearly  killed  her.  In 
the  morning  she  reached  the  waggon,  and  there 
was  much  rejoicing. 

For  seven  days  the  party  plodded  through  the 
snow,  and  then  found  themselves  on  the  very 
spot  where  the  storm  had  overtaken  them  ! 
They  had  made  a  circuit  of  almost  a  hundred 
miles,  and  wasted  the  precious  time,  energy,  and 
food  they  could  so  little  afford  to  lose.     Making 


224 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


a  second  effort  they  got  away  directly  south, 
which  led  them,  after  nine  days,  to  the  very 
heart  of  the  Ralston  Desert,  through  which  no 
one  had  ever  driven  before. 

The  struggle  on  the  Great  American  Desert 
was  repeated,  with  many  hardships  added,  but 
the  same  remarkable  fortune  that  had  preserved 
the  expedition  so  far  still  attended  it,  and  the 
seemingly  impossible  was  accomplished.  That 
this  sinister  stretch 
of  brown  and  yellow 
lava  and  gravel, 
studded  with  brist- 
ling cacti  and  shun- 
ned even  by  the 
roving  bands  of 
Indians  because  it 
drives  men  crazy, 
should  be  traversed 
by  a  widow  woman 
and  her  children 
under  such  condi- 
tions seems  beyond 
belief,  but  it  was 
done.  How  will  ever 
remain  a  mystery 
and  a  wonder  to 
the  few  who  know 
what  it  means  to 
invade  the  terrible 
Ralston  Desert. 

Four  days  before 
Christmas  found  the 
Simpson  family  in 
direst  peril  in  the 
huge  lava  fields  on 
the  verge  of  Grape- 
vine Canyon,  with 
the  towering  Bare 
Mountains  between 
them  and  California. 
They  had  failed  to 
enter  the  Golden 
State  until  too  late, 
for  now  every  avenue 

thither  was  closed.  Their  provisions  were  gone, 
with  the  exception  of  a  single  mess  of  beans,  and 
the  sick  baby,  threatened  with  fever,  had  been 
given  the  last  drop  of  water  from  the  canteen 
For  nearly  thirty  hours  the  animals  had  not 
tasted  water,  and  but  a  few  mouthfuls  of  hay 
remained.  The  heat  arose  in  waves,  and  the 
awful  death  that  can  come  only  in  such  a  place 
appeared  imminent  to  the  six  helpless  travellers. 
If  they  stopped  they  could  only  perish,  and  con- 
tinuing promised  nothing  better,  but  they  drove 
onwards  as  rapidly  as  the  worn-out  condition  of 
the  horses  would  permit.  Young  James  rode 
the  mule  ahead,  picking  a  way  among  the  sprawl- 


Froiu  (i  | 


IVE    BRAVE    CHI  1.1 
HEk    TERRIBI 


ing  beds  of  tuna.  Suddenly  the  beast  turned 
sharply  to  the  left  and  refused  to  budge  in  any 
other  direction.  It  began  to  rush  through  the 
chaparral,  and  the  waggon  followed,  though  it 
was  the  roughest  course  imaginable.  After  all, 
what  did  it  matter  now  where  they  went  ?  After 
four  hours'  jolting  in  the  mesquite  they  came  to 
a  prospector's  shack — and  a  good  well !  Never 
was  sight  more  welcome  or  host  more  surprised. 

The  man  could 
scarce  believe  his 
own  eyes.  It  was 
the  miner's  treat, 
and  as  much  water 
as  persons  or  horses 
might  safely  take 
was  slowly  given. 
The  mule,  whose 
wonderful  but  well- 
known  instinct  had 
led  them  to  the  spot, 
found  a  bucketful, 
gulped  it  down,  and 
died  on  the  spot. 
It  is  not  likely  there 
was  ever  mourning 
for  a  mule  before, 
but  tears  that  welled 
from  the  heart  were 
shed  over  this  dumb 
brute,  which  had  de- 
livered the  voyagers 
from  the  very  depths 
of  despair — and 
worse. 

After  a  few  days' 
rest  the  terrible 
journey  was  re- 
sumed, the  parly 
provided  with 
enough  food  and 
water  to  last  until 
they  should  reach  a 
mining  camp  to 
which  they  were 
directed.  The  kindly  prospector's  store  was 
low,  and  to  help  the  widow  he  shot  and  gave 
her  five  chuckawallas — fat,  swift,  ugly  lizards, 
which  the  Indians  bake  and  relish  and  white 
men  swallow  hurriedly  when  they  can  get  nothing 
else.  They  were  gratefully  accepted  as  a  last 
resource,  and  it  so  happened  that  they  con- 
stituted the  piece  de  resistance  of  the  Simpsons' 
Christmas  dinner  !  The  repulsive-looking  rep 
tiles  were  fried  and  served  in  the  shade  of  a 
grotesque  yucca  palm  a  hundred  miles  east  of 
Death  Valley — and  they  actually  tasted  good. 
To  this  day,  however,  mere  mention  of  the 
chuckawalla  will  send  a  shudder  through  any 


IKEX,  WHO   ACCOMPANIED    HER   ON 
E  JOURNEY.  [Photo. 


WIDOW    SIMPSON'S    JOURNEY. 


225 


one  of  the  little  band  who  partook  of  that 
cheerless  Christmas  meal  in  the  heart  of  the 
desert. 

To  attempt  the  crossing  of  Death  Valley 
would  have  been  suicidal,  and  at  Springs  min- 
ing camp,  after  having  been  well  provisioned, 
Mrs.  Simpson  concluded  to  turn  the  other  way, 
eastward.  Continuing  too  long  thence  was 
perhaps  the  gravest  error  of  all,  for  after  twenty- 
two  days'  slow  progress  where  no  waggon  had 
ever  been  seen  before  they  crossed  the  Vegas 
range  of  mountains  to  the  dread  Moapoa  Desert. 
This  is  an  indescribable  natural  furnace,  the 
hottest  place  in  America,  and  more  forbidding 


ling  by  day  impossible,  and  the  horses  had  to 
be  tied  on  the  shady  side  of  the  waggon  to  keep 
them  alive.  At  nightfall  the  boys  would  hitch 
up  the  team,  and  the  vehicle  would  be  kept 
under  way  until  early  morning,  which  meant 
little  opportunity  for  sleep  during  the  hours 
when  slumber  would  have  been  possible.  Two 
of  the  horses  soon  died,  and  the  next  victim 
was  the  faithful  dog,  which  left  the  children 
almost  inconsolable. 

For  two  weeks  not  a  living  human  being  had 
been  seen.  There  was  not  much  food  left,  and 
water  was  again  measured  by  drops.  The 
widow  and    the    elder    children    allowed    them- 


.       -  -  -  -  , . 


er-C'24k*& 

■ 


k^¥::  "..-      .__. 


THE    MOAPOA    DESERT,    THE    HOTTEST    PLACE    IN    AMERICA. 

From  a  Copyright  Photo,  by  C.  C.  Pierce  d^  Co. 


in  any  aspect  than  the  Sahara.  If  there  be  one 
spot  in  the  wide  world  more  treacherous  and 
uncompromising  than  another  it  is  the  Moapoa 
— not  excepting  even  Death  Valley.  Even  in 
January  the  temperature  reaches  one  hundred 
and  twenty  degrees  in  the  shade,  and  the  only 
way  to  find  shade  is  by  digging  a  hole  in  the 
ground.  Level  as  a  floor  and  bounded  only  by 
a  purple  haze,  it  seemed  endless  to  the  unfortu- 
nates trying  to  escape  its  grasp.  For  days  and 
days  as  they  struggled  onwards  the  vast  alkali- 
painted  waste  looked  like  a  sullen  ocean.  Years 
of  bitter  drought  have  crystallized  the  surface, 
and  the  heat  was  reflected  in  hungry,  eager 
vibrations  that  almost  sucked  the  breath  away. 
The  intensity  of    the   sun's   rays  made  travel- 

Vol.  xiv.—  29. 


selves  to  be  tortured  by  thirst,  in  order  that  the 
little  ones  might  suffer  less.  Poor  Mrs.  Simpson 
was  sick  now,  at  times  on  the  verge  of  the 
delirium  that  precedes  the  last  unconsciousness, 
but  bravely  concealed  her  agony.  This  was  the 
critical  situation  on  the  night  of  January  25th, 
when  they  met  with  an  experience  from  which 
the  stoutest-hearted  would  shrink. 

While  driving  in  the  bright  moonlight  they 
came  upon  an  appalling  spectacle,  where  Death 
had  littered  the  weird  plain  with  the  skeletons 
of  many  hapless  victims  of  thirst.  The  bleached 
bones  lay  scattered  about  the  foot  of  a  prickly- 
pear  cactus.  Back  in  the  shadow  a  solitary 
coyote  sat  on  his  haunches  crying  to  the  moon 
with   the  voice  of  a  woman  in  anguish.     The 


226 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


scoffing  howl  of  this  pariah  sounded  like  the 
wail  of  a  horde  of  lost  souls  in  the  ears  of  the 
nerve-shattered,  frightened  listeners. 

What  a  sight  for  the  sorely-tried  mother  and 
children  was  that  fearful  midnight  scene  !  The 
shock  and  horror  of  it  cannot  be  described. 
Even  the  tired  horses  understood  and  shied  at 
the  ghastly  sight. 

"I  could  suppress  my  feelings  no  longer," 
said  Mrs.   Simpson,    "  but   broke  down   before 


encountered  that  would  have  blown  the  waggon 
away  had  it  not  been  drawn  into  a  depression 
beside  a  little  knoll.  This  was  the  Moapoa's 
farewell — like  a  snort  of  uncontrollable  rage 
over  the  loss  of  its  victims.  A  gathering  storm 
in  that  region  is  scarcely  to  be  equalled  in 
grandeur.  Masses  of  low-hanging  clouds  like 
capsized  mountains  come  tumbling  and  sweep- 
ing down,  rent  by  lightning,  rumbling  with 
thunder,  and  roaring  with  whirlwinds.     Every- 


I    COULD    SUPPRESS    MY    FEELINGS   NO    LONGER,    BUT    BROKE    DOWN    BEFORE    MY   CHILDREN. 


my  children.  I  felt  that  this  meant  the  end  for 
us  all,  and  as  we  hurried  away  from  that 
dreadful  place  we  prayed  that  death  might 
come  quickly  in  order  that  we  might  not  have 
to  endure  what  we  knew  those  poor  men  had. 
We  had  no  water  left,  and  as  all  those  poor 
travellers  had  perished  there  I  feared  there  was 
no  hope  for  us.  Only  God  knows  what  was  our 
misery  that  night. 

"  We  did  not  stop  until  late  in  the  morning, 
and  then  a  kind  Providence  guided  us  to  a 
little  pool  of  dirty  water  and  our  lives  were 
preserved.  We  lived  on  crumbs  until  next  day, 
when  we  reached  Stump  Spring  and  spent 
almost  our  last  pennies  for  bacon  and  bread." 

At  the  California  boundary  line  a  storm  was 


thing  that  is  loose  must  go  before  the  hurricane's 
mad  rush  over  that  great  expanse.  From  late 
afternoon  until  sunrise  next  day  the  emigrants 
were  huddled  under  their  frail  shelter,  expecting 
momentarily  to  be  blown  away  in  the  hail  of 
pebbles  that  tore  their  canvas  and  blinded  their 
horses.  Then  the  sky  cleared  as  suddenly  as 
it  had  darkened. 

Confronting  them  now  was  the  Mojave,  the 
upper  part  of  the  Colorado  Desert,  the  land  of 
marvellous  mirages,  and  when  this  was  entered 
they  were  in  California,  the  state  they  had  come 
so  far  and  endured  so  much  to  reach.  On  the 
Mojave  the  sand  is  like  the  drifted  snow — white, 
deep,  and  restless.  Piled  here  in  dunes  to-day, 
it   is    heaped    far    away    to-morrow,    for    ever 


WIDOW    SIMPSON'S    JOURNEY. 


227 


shifting,  and  to  step  upon  it  is  to  sink  to  the 
ankles,  which  means  travelling  at  a  snail's  pace. 
An  occasional  yucca  tree  afforded  inviting  shade 
and  travel  was  more  endurable  than  on  the 
Moapoa,  which  is  saying  little. 

One  day  Mrs.  Simpson  was  awakened  from 
an  after-dinner  nap  by  the  children,  who  were 
shouting  for  joy  and  pointed  out  a  charming 
sight.  On  the  northern  horizon,  bright  as  an 
emerald,  appeared 
the  sea,  its  white 
surges  breaking  on 
the  shore.  Nearer 
was  a  beautiful  tur- 
quoise lake,  its 
mirrored  surface 
rippled  by  the 
breeze.  Tall  palms 
waved  lazily  in  the 
wind  and  gently 
dipped  their  grace- 
ful fronds  in  the 
water.  On  one  side 
were  signs  of  a  city, 
dimmed  by  the 
sheen  of  blue  and 
silver.  Surely  they 
were  now  near  the 
Pacific  Ocean  they 
h  a  d  f  o  r  months 
longed  to  see! 
Perhaps  the  city 
was  Los  Angeles  ! 
Hitching  up  the 
team  they  hurried 
on.  In  an  hour 
the  lovely  scene 
vanished  like  a 
shooting  star.  Look- 
ing around  bewil- 
dered they  saw  a 
long  train  of  cars 
upside  down,  creep- 
ing  along  the 
western  sky-line.  As 
they,  looked,  even 
these  disappeared  in 
an    instant  !      This 

was  their  first  experience  with  the  mystic  mirages 
that  have  never  been  explained.  They  had  seen 
the  reflected  sea  over  two  hundred  miles  away  : 
the  inverted  train  was  real  and  right  side  up  on 
the  tracks  of  the  Santa  Fe  Railroad  over  a 
hundred  miles  distant  !  From  that  day  forward 
lakes  were  constantly  seen  coming  and  going  ; 
magic  cities  of  splendour,  but  mere  children  of 
the  sun  and  air,  sprang  up ;  rivers  ran  and  giant 
forests  grew  in  seconds,  only  to  depart  as  rapidly 
and  leave  but  the  desolation  of  the  desert. 


THE   WAGGON    CAUGHT    FIRE    KKOM    A    CANDLE. 


A  few  more  days  dragged  on,  and  then 
Daggett,  one  of  the  most  picturesque  of  desert 
towns,  stood  out  clearly  against  the  sunset.  Its 
reality  could  not  be  doubted,  and  it  was  hailed 
with  delight.  This  was  in  the  evening  of 
February  5th.  It  was  now  believed  the  remainder 
of  the  trip  would  be  easily  accomplished,  but  its 
woes  and  dangers  were  far  from  past.  That  very 
night  the  waggon  caught  fire  from  a  candle,  and 

Mrs.  Simpson  and 
her  three  girls,  asleep 
inside,  would  have 
perished  but  for  the 
brave  action  of 
Ella,  the  heroine  of 
the  snowstorm. 
With  her  own  cloth- 
i  n  g  ablaze  she 
snatched  her  sisters 
from  the  burning 
bedding  and  pulled 
her  mother,  who 
had  fainted,  out  of 
harm's  way.  So 
narrow  was  the 
escape  of  the  baby 
that  the  flames 
singed  her  curls. 
Everything  except 
the  bare  waggon 
was  consumed  be- 
fore the  boys,  asleep 
under  a  tree  near 
by,  were  awakened. 
Not  even  a  pair  of 
shoes  escaped  de- 
struction. 

The  only  course 
now  was  to  sell  what 
remained  and  go  by 
train,  and  this  was 
done  next  day  in 
Daggett,  the  horses 
and  waggon 
ing  barely 
to  buy  tickets  for 
all  to  San  Bernar- 
dino, eighty  miles 
from  Los  Angeles.  There  they  arrived,  destitute, 
cold,  and  hungry,  at  two  o'clock  in  the  morning 
of  February  7th.  Knowing  not  which  way  to 
turn,  they  appealed  to  an  expressman  who  had 
met  the  train,  and  he  consented  to  haul  them 
away  from  the  station. 

An  hour  later  Policeman  Thomas  Starke 
found  the  six  of  them  shivering  under  a 
single  blanket  behind  a  hoarding,  a  soaking 
rain  beating  down  upon  them.  The  officer, 
attracted  by  the  baby's  cries,  took  pity  on  the 


bring- 
enough 


128 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


sufferers,  made  them  as  comfortable  as  he  could, 
and  in  the  morning  circulated  a  subscription 
paper  and  raised  a  considerable  relief  fund.  He 
obtained  a  tent  and  installed  the  distressed 
family  under  adequate  shelter.  Neighbours  and 
others  who  heard  of  the  incident  brought  food, 
the  county  of  San  Bernardino  made  an  allow- 
ance, and  the  rescue  was  complete. 

In    the   little   tent,  among   the  oranges  and 
roses  of  the  Southland,  Mrs.  Simpson  and  her 


party  ever  known  to  have  thus  succumbed. 
Not  one  could  be  identified.  All  had  died 
within  a  few  days,  perhaps  three  weeks  before, 
according  to  the  evidence  obtainable.  Near  by 
is  "  Dead  Man's  Well,"  a  red-alkali  poison-hole, 
whose  water,  while  temporarily  alleviating  thirst, 
brings  certain  and  frightful  death  to  those  who 
drink  it.  The  conclusion  was  drawn,  from  die 
position  of  the  bodies,  that  this  well  tempted 
half-a-dozen  to  their  fate,  which  could,  after  all, 


From  a 


WIDOW    SIMl'SON  S    l'RESENT    HOME    IN    SAN    BERNARDINO. 


{Photo. 


children  live  to-day,  content  with  their  lot  and 
little  the  worse  for  their  long  exposure.  Of  the 
man  who  deliberately  inveigled  them  into  the 
deadly  wastes  of  the  desert  little  need  be  said. 
The  law's  efforts  to  find  him  failed,  and  his 
punishment  must  come  in  the  hereafter. 

Five  days  after  the  hideous  midnight  dis- 
covery on  the  Moapoa  a  corps  of  Salt  Lake 
railroad  surveyors  chanced  upon  the  gruesome 
company  of  dead,  thirty-five  miles  from  Las 
Vegas,  Nev.  There  were  thirty  victims  of 
thirst  and  hunger  and  heat,  supposedly  railroad 
labourers  who  had  attempted  to  cross  on 
foot  the  eighty  miles  of  awful  waste  that 
stretches  from  Las  Vegas  to  the  California 
line — but  a  few  of  the  many  who  have  met 
the     same     fate     there,     though     the    largest 


have  been  but  merciful  compared  with  that  of 
the  others. 

By  the  ghostly  light  of  the  desert  moonlight 
a  small  burial  party  dug  a  long,  shallow  trench 
near  Dead  Man's  Well  and  reverently  laid  away 
together,  as  they  had  died  together,  the  thirty 
"  unknowns."  A  bit  of  scantling  stuck  on  a 
low  mound  in  the  illimitable  expanse  of  sand 
marks  the  spot.  Trains  will  soon  be  speeding 
by  on  a  track  which  is  now  being  built  at  night 
because  the  heat  of  the  day  is  too  intense,  and 
blossoms  may  yet  grow  above  them,  for  the 
marvellous  touch  of  water  under  the  national 
irrigation  movement  is  gradually  transforming 
the  grim  deserts  into  smiling  gardens.  Mean- 
while the  wonderful  journey  made  by  the  brave 
widow  and  her  children  will  long  be  remem- 
bered in  the  West. 


What  I  Saw  A[  KaHo. 


ii. 

In  this  interesting  article  Captain  Foulkes,  the  author  of  "With  the  British  to  Sokoto,"* 
describes  his  experiences  in  Kano,  the  "  Manchester  of  the  Soudan,"  and  discourses  on  men 
and  things  in  that  remarkable  city,  which,  until  occupied  by  the  British  troops  a  few  months  ago, 

was  practically  a  terra  incognita  to  the  white  man. 


HE  streets  of  Kano  are  very  narrow, 
being  often  only  eight  or  ten  feet  in 
width,  while  the  walls  of  the  houses 
on  either  side,  surmounted  with  rude 
wooden  gutters  projecting,  gargoyle- 
like, from  the  roof,  rise  to  a  height  of  fifteen  or 
twenty  feet,  and  throw  deep  shadows  across  the 
roadway,  excepting  at  high  noon.  A  typical 
street  scene  is  depicted  on  the  next  page. 

In  passing  along  one  catches  glimpses 
through  open  doorways  of  muffled  figures 
squatting  in  dark  recesses  and  facing  each  other 
in  conversation.  Farther  on,  in  an  open  court- 
yard, a  woman  may  be  observed  lying  at  full 
length  on  a  mat,  face  downwards,  with  her  head 
resting  on  the  knees  of  a  young  girl,  who  is 
engaged  in  plaiting  her  hair  in  neat  ridges. 

Probably  nowhere  does  one  see  a  stranger 
gathering  of  people  than  in  this  town,  or  a  more 
wonderful  variety  of  feature  and  dress,  from  the 
almost  naked  Hausa  slave  to  the  dignified  and 
silent  Tuareg  and  the  gaudily-costumed  Arab. 

Every  shady  spot  is  occupied.  In  one  place 
a  dark-skinned  Hausa  can  be  seen  seated  on 
the  ground  cross-legged,  working  an  elaborate 
pattern  with  coloured  threads  on  a  native-made 
gown  ;  in  another,  four  blind  women  in  a  row 
with  their  backs  against  a  wall  and  their  knees 

*  See  our  issues  for  July,  1903,  and  following  months. — Ed. 


drawn  up  under  their  chins,  chanting  in  unison, 
and  rhythmically  clashing  little  calabashes  on 
the  ground  to  attract  attention  and  alms. 

Under  a  small  tree  among  the  houses  we  saw 
half-a-dozen  men  employed  in  making  sweets ;  a 
sticky  yellow  substance  was  being  worked  up  in 
long  ropes,  one  end  being  attached  to  a  hook 
driven  into  the  tree  trunk,  whilst  the  other  was 
drawn  out,  at  a  run,  to  a  distance  of  about 
twenty  feet  and  then  folded  and  refolded  over 
the  hook,  the  operation  being  repeated  again 
and  again.  In  the  roadway  near  by  little  naked 
girls  were  hawking  about  the  finished  article  cut 
up  in  short  lengths,  and  arranged  tidily  on  small 
grass-woven  trays. 

But  it  is  in  the  market-place  proper  of  Kano 
that  is  centred  the  life  of  the  city,  and  here  an 
extraordinarily  animated  scene  is  presented  to 
the  gaze. 

Unfortunately,  from  a  photographic  point 
of  view,  the  slave  market  no  longer  exist-. 
Formerly  there  were  from  five  hundred  i 
thousand  slaves  on  sale  lure  ever)  day,  among 
whom  were  withered  old  men  and  women, 
apathetic  and  unfit  for  further  labour;  plump 
young  women,  tearful  and  rebellious;  men  in 
the  prime  of  life  and  of  many  races,  scowling 
and  loaded  with  chains  on  their  heads  and  feet ; 
and  little  children  laughing  and  playing  together, 


2$6 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


From  a] 

as  yet  too  young  to  realize  their  position. 
Although  this  sight  can  no  longer  be  witnessed, 
there  is  no  doubt  that  human  merchandise  still 
changes  hands  privately  in  the  city. 

A  noticeable  feature  in  the  Kano  market  is 
that  it  is  subdivided  into  distinct  departments, 
each  devoted  to  some  special  kind  of  article. 
In  one  corner  all  kinds 
of  basket-work  are  ex- 
posed to  view  ;  in  another 
bundles  of  firewood — an 
expensive  item  in  Kano 
housekeeping  —  can  be 
observed  stacked  against 
a  wall ;  and  in  a  third 
numbers  of  donkey  pan- 
niers, serviceable  articles 
made  of  raw  hide  stretched 
over  a  framework  of  sticks, 
are  laid  out  in  rows  on  the 
ground. 

In  the  meat  market, 
beef  is  cut  up  into  thin 
slices  and  placed  on  mats 
and  hurdles  in  the  sun  to 
dry.  Here,  as  may  be 
imagined,  swarms  of  flies 
hover  round,  and  the 
smell  is  anything  but 
agreeable.  Tall  bundles 
of  grass  for  horses,  tied 
tightly  round  with    rope, 


rows  of  sugar-canes,  deep 
baskets  filled  with  grain, 
mats,  the  finishing  touches 
to  which  are  added  on 
the  spot,  and  bridles  and 
saddlery  can  all  be  pur- 
chased in  fixed  spots. 

As  we  wandered  round 
the  labyrinth  of  crowded 
narrow  alleys,  threading 
our  way  between  the  out- 
stretched It-gs  of  venders 
sprawling  on  the  ground 
with  their  wares  spread 
out  before  them,  little 
children  laughingly  scam- 
pered away  before  us  in 
mock  terror,  whilst  a 
small  crowd  of  people 
followed  behind,  peering 
over  each  other's  shoulders 
and  audibly  marvelling  at 
the  things  that  seemed  to 
interest  us. 

A  great  deal  of  busi- 
ness appears  to  be  trans- 
acted in  the  crowded 
cattle  market.  Here  camels  from  the  desert 
are  put  up  for  sale,  and  horses,  cattle,  donkeys, 
and  goats  tended  by  Fulani  herdsmen  graze 
peacefully,  while  all  around  there  is  a  babel  of 
excited  jabbering  and  shouting. 

In     ancient     Hausa     mythology     Kano     is 
mentioned     in     connection    with    its    weaving 


[Photo. 


THE    WOOD    MARKET — FIREWOOD    IS    AN    EXPENSIVE    COMMODITY    IN   THE   GREAT   CITY. 

From   a  Photo. 


WHAT    I    SAW    AT    KANO. 


231 


industry  and  its  dye-pits,  and  at  the  present 
day  great  quantities  of  native-made  garments 
are  offered  for  sale  by  merchants  in  the  market- 
place. There  are  in  addition  rolls  of  cloth  of 
European  manufacture  that  have  been  trans- 
ported across  the  desert,  but  the  quality  is  in- 
different and  the  local  product  seems  to  be 
preferred. 

Connecting  the  special  markets  for  the  various 
industries  are  rows  upon  rows  of  low  stalls 
consisting  of  sun-proof  grass  thatching  supported 
on  short  uprights. 

Here  every  imaginable  article  that  can  be 
required    by    the    natives    may    be   purchased, 


In  the  Arab  quarter  one  experiences  a 
subdued  feeling  of  rest  and  security,  for  the 
tumult  and  roar  of  the  market  are  only  dis- 
tinguishable here  as  a  distant  murmur.  Here 
there  are  but  few  people  in  the  streets  ;  but 
Arab  merchants,  some  with  remarkably  light 
complexions,  can  be  seen  sitting  on  their 
thresholds,  conversing  in  low  tones,  a  few  being 
arrayed  in  bright  colours,  and  carrying  huge 
iron  keys  dangling  from  their  girdles. 

All  goods  are  kept  locked  up  indoors  out  of 
sight,  and  on  inquiring  for  "succa"  (sugar)  we 
were  conducted  from  house  to  house  through  a 
number  of  intricate  passages,  until  at  length   we 


THE    MEAT    MARKET— THE    MEAT   IS   CUT   INTO   THIN    SLICES   AND    PLACED   ON    MATS   TO    DRY. 

From  a  Photo. 


including  vegetables,  onions,  ground  -  nuts, 
peppers,  sweet  potatoes,  butter  arranged  in 
calabashes  in  tiny  pats,  and  kola-nuts  ;  salt, 
which  the  venders  ladle  out  with  shells ;  and 
snuff,  which  is  sold  with  little  wooden  or  brass 
spoons ;  necklaces  of  coins,  beads,  or  charms, 
for  female  adornment,  and  pieces  of  red  sealing- 
wax  to  serve  the  same  purpose  in  the  hair  and 
nostrils ;  stirrup-irons  and  bits  ;  leather  sandals 
and  cushions  dyed  in  various  colours,  or  with 
the  surface  cut  into  fanciful  patterns;  glazed 
earthenware  water-jars,  and  small  open  dishes  of 
the  same  material  for  use  as  lamps,  burning  shea 
butter  ;  powdered  antimony  (employed  for 
colouring  the  eyelids  of  men  and  women  alike), 
and  cheap  round  looking-glasses,  framed  in 
leather. 

Articles  of  greater  value,  such  as  the  finer 
kinds  of  clothing  and  ostrich  feathers,  and  those 
that  are  not  in  general  demand,  like  scents  and 
sugar,  can  be  purchased  privately  from  the  Arab 
traders  at  their  own  dwellings. 


found  one  man  who  did  not  put  us  off  with 
hopeful  references  to  the  arrival  of  the  next 
caravan. 

Probably  sugar  (which  is  carried  overland 
from  the  Mediterranean  ports)  has  not  much 
public  sale  in  Kano,  and  it  is  imported  as  an 
article  of  luxury  for  the  use  of  a  few  wealthy 
Hausas  and  for  consumption  by  the  resident 
Arabs  themselves. 

It  is  sold  in  white  crystalline  cones,  weighing 
about  three  pounds,  at  a  charge  of  five  shillings 
or  more,  according  to  one's  capabilities  in  bar- 
gaining. A  very  bitter  substance  which  passes 
for  tea  we  also  bought  here. 

After  waiting  a  considerable  time  while  our 
host  was  presumably  unlocking  his  treasure- 
chamber,  and  raising  on  its  rusty  hinges  the 
unwieldy  lid  of  some  iron-bound  chest,  the  tea 
was  finally  produced,  and  with  it  a  massive  pair 
of  scales  with  a  single  circular  weight.  A 
quantity  of  the  tea  was  poured  out  and 
scrupulously  balanced  against  the  weight ;   the 


232 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


latter  was  then  taken  out  of  the  scales,  and  the 
tea  was  equally  divided  in  the  balance,  and 
again  and  again  subdivided  until  the  required 
quantity,  about  half  a  pound,  was  left.  For 
this  a  sinful  price  was  at  first  demanded,  but 
after  the  same  process  of  argument  that  had 
taken  place  previously  had  been  gone  through, 
and  when  we  at  length  rose  with  the  pretended 
object  of  departing,  profusely  apologizing  for 
the  trouble  we  had  caused,  a  bargain  was  struck 
and  two  shillings  and  sixpence  was  handed  over 
—probably  much  to  the  merchant's  satisfaction. 

In  reply  to  a  request  for  permission  to 
examine  the  interior  of  his  house,  the  Arab  at 
first  hesitated  and  then  refused,  with  the  excuse 
—a  palpable  and  delightfully  shameless  lie — 
that  the  real  owner  of  the  place  was  away  on  a 
visit.  Probably,  if  I  had  been  accompanied 
and  properly  introduced  by  one  of  the  King's 
headmen,  I  might  have  been  allowed  to  enter. 

It   will  probably  be  a  surprise    to    many   to 


camp  the  sun  was  on  the  point  of  setting,  and 
smoke  from  the  evening  fires  and  the  unhealthy 
mists  that  rose  from  the  stagnant  pools  combined 
to  form  a  dense,  low-lying  cloud  that  hung  over 
what  is  probably  one  of  the  most  interesting 
spots  that  the  African  traveller  can  visit  at  the 
present  day. 

The  population  of  Kano  is  very  difficult  to 
estimate.  The  number  of  people  who  actually 
reside  in  the  town  might  be  anything  from 
twenty  to  fifty  thousand,  but  in  addition 
enormous  numbers  of  native  traders  and  slaves 
— variously  estimated  at  between  sixty  thousand 
and  two  million — pass  through  in  the  course  of 
the  year. 

Kano's  external  trade  is  by  no  means  its  least 
interesting  feature.  It  is  said  that  twelve 
thousand  camel-loads  of  European  goods  alone 
are  brought  annually  to  the  market  from  the 
Mediterranean  coast. 

Huge   caravans    from    Tripoli,    Tunis,    and 


THE   ARRIVAL   OF    A   CARAVAN    PROM    TRIPOLI — IT   OCCUPIED    TWO    YEARS   ON   THE   JOURNEY. 

From  a  Photo. 


know  that  Kano  has  an  educational  system,  but 
this  is  so,  and  in  returning  towards  the  market 
we  passed  a  school  of  small  boys  seated  in  a 
group  in  the  roadway  and  singing  in  chorus  from 
what  looked  like  a  number  of  inventory  boards 
covered  with  Arabic  characters.  Their  teacher, 
a  white-bearded  Mallam,  was  leaning  against  a 
doorway  copying  an  ancient  and  bulky  manu- 
script volume  which  was  lying  at  his  feet,  and 
which  he  refused  to  sell,  though  the  suggestion 
seemed  to  amuse  him  greatly. 

Beggars  are  common  sights  in  Kano,  but  they 
are  invariably  incapacitated  by  blindness,  de- 
formity, or  disease.  Occasionally  we  saw  lepers 
limping  through  the  streets. 

As  we  left  the  town  on  our  return  journey  to 


Fezzan  make  the  overland  journey  across  the 
desert,  carrying  silk  and  cotton  gowns,  cloths, 
scents,  sugar,  teas,  coffee,  and  horse  trappings,  all 
of  which  are  delivered  to  resident  Arab  agents 
for  disposal  to  the  best  advantage.  On  the 
return  journey  ostrich  feathers,  leather,  and  a 
small  quantity  of  ivory  are  taken  back,  and  one 
caravan  from  Kano  that  arrived  recently  at 
Tripoli  consisted  of  twelve  hundred  and  twenty 
camel-loads,  which  were  valued  at  forty-one 
thousand  pounds. 

In  addition  to  the  Mediterranean  trade, 
Asbinawa  caravans  from  Air  bring  in  numbers 
of  camels,  sheep,  and  oxen,  and  immense 
quantities  of  "  potash  "  ;  traders  from  the  Gold 
Coast    hinterland    arrive    with    kola-nuts,    while 


WHAT    I    SAW    AT    KANO. 


ns 


others  from  Bornu  drive  before  them  herds  of 
cattle.  From  the  Niger  Delta  and  from  Lagos 
European  made  fabrics,  salt,  and  hardware  are 
imported.  Kano  exports  cloths  and  gowns  and 
other  articles  to  the  Gold  Coast,  Timbuctoo,  Air, 
Lake  Tchad,  and  Lagos,  and,  in  fact,  to  the 
whole  of  the  Western  Soudan. 

Kano  is  also  the  head  and  centre  of  the 
weaving  industry,  which  gives  employment  to 
thousands  of  persons  throughout  the  province. 

To  collect  Customs  duties  on  all  the  numerous 
caravans  that  daily  arrive  in  and  depart  from 
Kano  severely  tries  the  powers  of  the  small 
Revenue  Department  that  has  already  been 
established.  A  regular  system  of  scouting  has 
been  organized,  and  whenever  news  is  brought 
of  the  approach  of  a  caravan  word  is  sent  out  to 
the  latter  to  halt  at  some  small  village  outside 
the  walls  and  to  await  the  arrival  of  the  Revenue 
officer. 

I  was  fortunate  in  obtaining  a  glimpse  of  the 
procedure  on  the  occasion  of  the  arrival  of  an 
Arab  caravan  from  Tripoli,  which  had  been 
compelled  to 
spend  two  years 
on  the  road, 
owing  to  the  in- 
security of  the 
route  traversed. 
A  long  string  of 
animals  was  ap- 
proaching the 
appointed  spot  at 
the  moment  of 
our  arrival.  There 
were  fine  camels 
piled  high  with 
canvas  -  covered 
wooden  chests,  on 
the  top  of  which 
Arab     women 


closely  veiled  were  perched  ;  and  oxen  laden 
with  bales  of  cloth  tightly  wrapped  in  grass 
matting,  and  driven  along  by  masked  Tuaregs, 
with  finger-nails  dyed  with  indigo,  and  long, 
double-edged  swords  hanging  at  their  sides. 

When  a  halt  was  called  the  camels  were  made 
to  kneel,  and  the  women  slipped  down  from 
their  seats  and  were  hurried  away  out  of  sight. 

Loads,  after  being  lifted  from  the  backs  of 
the  oxen,  were  placed  on  the  ground  and 
stripped  open  for  examination,  the  contents 
being  checked  by  Sierra  Leone  clerks  from  the 
bills  of  lading  (written  in  Arabic  on  slips  of 
paper)  which  were  sewn  inside  each  package. 

While  this  was  going  on  in  the  blazing  sun, 
the  camels  rested  meditatively  in  the  most 
uncomfortable-looking  attitudes,  and  the  oxen 
relieved  of  their  burdens  strayed  away  to  a  short 
distance  to  graze,  whilst  those  of  the  Arabs  who 
were  not  engaged  in  the  assessment  of  the  duty 
sat  in  the  shade  of  some  big  cotton  trees 
chewing  kola-nuts. 

How  far  the  overland  trade  of  Kano  will  be 

affected  by  the 
construction  of 
the  projected  rail- 
way in  Northern 
Nigeria  it  is  im- 
possible at  present 
to  say  ;  but  when 
the  whole  country 
has  been  opened 
up  it  is  unlikely 
that  the  famous 
city  will  ever  enjoy 
greater  prosperity 
than  it  does  at 
present,  nor  is  it 
possible  for  it  to 
become  more  pic- 
turesque. 


From  a] 


A    MASKED    TUAREG    KKOM    THE     DESEKT. 


\Photo. 


Vol.  xiv.   -30. 


JCow  the  Bushrangers  Game  to  jstuHa. 

By  Cyril  Keightly. 

An    account  of  an    exciting  Christmastide.      An  Australian  Goldfields  Commissioner,  who  had 
aroused  the  enmity  of  a  band  of  bushrangers,  was  attacked  at  night  in  his  house  by  the  gang. 
The  author  tells  the   story  of  the  siege  and   the  curious  sequel  thereto. 


- 


WJl*4s 


HE  incident  which  I  am  about  to 
relate  occurred  in  Australia  in  the 
old  bushranging  days  and  before 
my  eyes  had  opened  upon  the  world, 
but  from  the  frequent  accounts  given 
me  by  my  parents  I  am  thoroughly  conversant 
with  all  the  details.* 

My  father  was  a  Goldfields  Commissioner,  and 
in  his  official  capacity  was  much  concerned  in 
the  doings  of  a  notorious  gang  of  bushrangers, 
headed  by  a  kind  of  Antipodean  Claude  Duval 
known  as  "  Starlight."  My  father  had,  in  fact, 
lost  gold  at  their  hands,  and  had  openly  vowed, 
sooner  or  later,  to  bring  about  their  capture, 
dead  or  alive.  This  item  of  news,  reaching  the 
ears  of  the  gang,  naturally  did  not  cause  them 
to  be  over  friendly-disposed  towards  my  father  ; 
they  regarded  him,  in  fact,  with  feelings  of  pro- 
nounced animosity,  as  they  considered  he  was 
going  quite  beyond  his  official  sphere.  Thecaptain 
of  the  gang,  burning  to  get  even,  conceived  the 
brilliant  notion  of  turning  the  tables  on  the 
Commissioner,  and  hunting  the  hunter.  He 
waited,  however,  for  a  suitable  opportunity,  not 
wishing  to  undertake  the  job  unless  the  reward 
was  commensurate  with  the  risk,  for  Starlight 
was  nothing  if  not  commercial.  Well,  an  oppor- 
tunity— or  what  he  judged  to  be  one — came  at 
last. 

My  father  and  mother,  at  this  period,  were 
living  in  a  fine,  roomy  old  house  near  Nulla 
Mountain,  a  very  isolated  locality  a  few  hours' 
ride  from  Bathurst.  With  them  was  an  aged 
female  servant  and  a  German,  a  friend  of  the 
family.  The  latter  was  a  man  who  had  seen  a 
great  deal  of  fighting  in  his  life,  having  been  a 
rebel,  or  an  anarchist,  or  something  exciting,  in 
his  own  country.  He  was  a  good  companion  to 
have  at  hand  in  an  emergency,  being  absolutely 
without  fear  and  a  man  of  considerable  resource. 
My  father  also  was  a  man  of  courage  and  deter- 
mination— a  fact  that  was  pretty  generally  known 
through  the  district.  My  mother  was  young, 
and  a  kind  of  reigning  beauty  in  the  locality. 

One  moonlight  night,  just  before  Christmas, 
the  household  was  aroused  about  ten  o'clock  by 
the  furious  barking  of  the  many  dogs  which  my 
father  kept  about  the  place.     It  was  clear  that 

*It  may  be  interesting  to  note  that  Rolfe  Boldiewood,  the  well- 
known  Australian  writer,  ha*  utilized  this  story  in  a  somewhat 
different  form  in  his  novel  "  Robbery  Under  Arms."  This  is  the 
first  time,  however,  that  it  has  ever  been  told,  so  to  speak,  "  from 
the  inside."— The  Author. 


danger  of  an  unusual  character  was  imminent. 
The  Commissioner,  knowing  what  the  senti- 
ments of  the  Starlight  gang  concerning  himself 
were,  was  ever  on  the  alert,  and  well  supplied 
with  rifles.  He  had  purposely  surrounded  his 
house  with  a  variety  of  watch-dogs,  in  case  the 
bushrangers  attempted  a  night  attack. 

Immediately  upon  the  alarm  being  given  by 
the  four-footed  sentinels  my  father,  with  the  aid 
of  the  others,  set  rapidly  to  work  to  prepare  for 
a  siege.  The  house,  as  luck  would  have  it, 
stood  by  itself,  there  being  no  other  buildings 
of  any  sort  anywhere  near.  This  point  was  dis- 
tinctly in  favour  of  the  besieged,  as  the  attack- 
ing party  would  find  it  difficult  to  get  to  close 
quarters  with  the  garrison  without  exposing 
themselves.  The  nearest  point  of  shelter  was 
a  large  barrel,  which  stood  on  end  near  the 
front  of  the  house,  and  which  was  destined  later 
on  to  be  the  scene  of  the  most  tragic  incident 
of  the  attack. 

Soon  all  the  doors  and  windows  on  the 
ground  floor  were  securely  fastened,  and  the 
occupants  ascended  to  the  top  of  the  building, 
taking  rifles  and  ammunition  with  them.  In 
reply  to  an  inquiry  of  my  father's,  his  German 
friend — who,  by  the  way,  was  a  doctor  of 
medicine,  whom  we  will  call  Schiller — assured 
him  that  there  was  sufficient  ammunition  to 
withstand  a  lengthy  siege.  It  was  agreed  that 
my  father,  being  a  good  shot,  should  do  the 
firing,  while  the  doctor  loaded.  This  would 
enable  them  to  maintain  a  pretty  rapid  fire, 
which  would  be  necessary  in  order  to  keep  the 
attackers  at  bay.  Later,  when  the  attackers 
contrived  almost  to  surround  the  house,  my 
mother,  herself  no  mean  shot,  also  took  a  rifle ; 
so  that  by  moving  about  quickly  the  garrison  were 
able  to  reply  to  firing  from  different  directions. 

All  these  preparations  were  the  work  of  but  a 
few  minutes,  and  then  the  house-party  opened 
the  attack  by  firing  into  the  scrub  some  distance 
away.  Instantly  half-a-dozen  rifles  replied  ;  it 
was  clear  that  the  bushrangers  were,  indeed, 
about  to  attack  the  house  !  The  firing  on  both 
sides  soon  became  pretty  hot.  Tongues  of 
flame  shot  out  of  the  darkness,  and  the  whistle 
and  pit-pat  of  bullets  could  be  heard  as  they 
either  struck  the  building  or  passed  harmlessly 
over  it.  Presently,  however,  the  shooting  of  the 
attackers  became  truer,  and  bullets  came  smash- 
ing through  the  windows,  shattering  objects  in 


HOW    THE    BUSHRANGERS    CAME    TO    NULLA. 


-35 


the  room.  A  little  extra  care  in  taking  cover 
therefore  became  necessary. 

This  more  or  less  ineffectual  bombardment 
continued  for  about  an  hour,  but  still  there 
appeared  to  be  no  falling  off  in  the  determina- 
tion of  the  attacking  party.  On  the  contrary, 
they  seemed  bent  on  surrounding  the  house. 

"  He  means  business,  does  Starlight,"  whis- 
pered my  father,  grimly,  as  the  firing  of  the 
bushrangers  became  more  spirited.  Hardly 
had  the  words  escaped  him  than  a  slight  scream 
from  my  mother  drew  all  eyes  towards  her.  All 
the  lights  had  long  since  been  extinguished,  but 
the  moon  shone  brilliantly  into  the  room  and 
lit     up    the    strange    scene.      "  Are    you    hit?" 


The    shooting    v.  v    at     mu< 

quarters,      Starlight's  the 

vigilance  of  the  garrison,    having   SU  1   in 

ping  closer  in.  At  this  juncture  mj  father 
hit  upon  a  subterfuge  by  which  to  induce  the 
desperadoes  to  expose  themselves.  A  dummy 
figure  was   hurriedly  made   and   i  .    in    the 

Commissioner's  coat  and  hat.  This 
taken  downstairs  by  my  mother  -who,  fortu- 
nately, was  only  slightly  wounded — and  the 
servant,  and  placed  near  the  front  door,  which 
was  partly  opened.  This  ruse  succeeded  only 
too  well.  Scarcely  had  it  been  placed  in  position 
when  one  of  the  gang  made  a  sudden  dash  from 
cover- and  took  up  a  position  behind  the  barrel. 


'ARE   VOL'    HIT?'    ASKED    MY    KATHEK,    ANXIOUSLY. 


asked  my  father,  anxiously.  "  It  is  nothing  ! 
responded  my  mother,  faintly,  but  a  thin  streak 
of  blood  could  be  seen  coursing  its  way  down 
her  pale  face.  At  once  the  old  servant  was  at 
her  side,  but  my  .  mother  resolutely  waved  her 
away  and,  gripping  her  rifle  tighter  th  in 
ever,  crouched  down  and  continued  firing 
steadily. 


Meanwhile  my  father,  from  his  post  at  a  win 

above,  took  careful  aim  at  th 

not  long   to  wait.     Soon   the   man   behind   the 

cask  emerged  a  short  distance  from  his 

place,  aiming  with  his  rifle  at  the   I. 

door.      Lang    went  hi-  >n,  and    bang    • 

my  father's.     The  figure  at  the  do 

motionless,   but  th  rolled 


236 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


over  with  a  groan,  never  to  rise  again.  This 
groan  of  the  dying  bushranger  could  be  dis- 
tinctly heard  echoed  by  his  comrades  in  hiding. 
A  thirst  for  vengeance  was  inflamed  in  their 
breasts,  and  their  firing  redoubled  in  vigour. 
Meanwhile,  the  dummy  having  served  its 
purpose,  the  door  of  the  house  was  shut  and 
fastened  again. 

"  All  who  advance  to  take  that  man's  place 
shall  meet  with  the  same  fate,"  remarked  my 
father,  under  his  breath. 

At  that  moment,  however,  a  terrible  discovery 
was  made  in  the  little  citadel.     With  a  pallid 


calmly,  "  if  that  is  so  we  are  lost."  After  a  pause 
he  continued,  "  But  we  will  fight  to  the  bitter 
end  !  "  He  then  proceeded  to  use  the  cart- 
ridges that  remained,  aiming  and  firing  with  the 
utmost  coolness. 

But  the  end  was  not  far  off,  and  soon  the 
dreaded  moment  arrived — the  last  cartridge  was 
spent !  The  little  party  gathered  in  a  group  on 
the  first  landing,  awaiting  the  coming  of  their 
fate.  It  was  a  terrible  moment,  fraught  with 
dread  and  suspense,  but  no  one  showed  the 
white  feather. 

They  had  not  long  to  wait.     The  slackening 


HE    WALKED    IiOLDLY    DOWNSTAIRS. 


face  the  doctor  came  to  my  father.  "Our 
ammunition  is  nearly  gone!"  he  whispered. 
"  I  made  a  mistake.    I  thought  there  was  more." 

As  if  in  response  to  this  appalling  news  the 
firing  outside  sounded  much  closer  and  more 
furious.  There  was  also  the  suspicion  of  a  cheer, 
as  the  replies  from  inside  the  house  appreciably 
slackened. 

:<  Well,     my    friend,"     observed     my    father, 


of  the  defenders'  fire  told  its  own  tale  to  the 
bushrangers,  and  presently,  with  a  cheer,  they 
rushed  towards  the  house.  The  front  door  was 
burst  open  with  a  tree-trunk,  used  as  a  battering- 
ram,  and  then  a  dead  silence  ensued.  The 
party  downstairs  hesitated,  apparently  suspecting 
some  subterfuge.  At  this  moment  my  father 
took  the  initiative,  and  laying  down  his  rifle  he 
walked  boldly  downstairs  into  the  midst  of  the 


HOW    THE     BUSHRANOERS    CAME    TO     NTI.IA 


237 


gang.     The  rest  of  the   tiny  garrison   followed 
him. 

"  Well,  Starlight,''  he  said,  addressing  the 
leader,  "we've  had  a  fair  fight  and  you've  won. 
What's  your  next  move  ?  " 

The  Commissioner  knew  his  man  ;  his  cool 
assurance  was  just  the  thing  to  commend  itself 
to  Starlight.  Probably  my  father's  sang  froid  at 
that  moment  saved  an  ugly  situation. 

There  were  about  half-a-dozen  men  in  the 
gang,  most  of  them  known  to  my  father.  One 
of  their  number,  a  particularly  lawless  and 
savage  scoundrel,  was  furious  about  the  loss  of 
his  comrade  behind  the  barrel.  Nothing  but 
blood,  he  insisted,  could  level  the  account. 
For  a  long  time  this  ruffian  threatened  to  cause 
trouble,  but  at  last  he  quieted  down  and 
Starlight  and  my  father  arranged  terms.  The 
Commissioner  was  to  give  the  bushrangers  five 
hundred  pounds,  to  be  divided  between  them, 
if  they  would  allow  the  doctor  and  Mrs.  Keightly 
to  ride  over  to  Bat  hurst  to  fetch  it,  the  rest 
remaining  as 
hostages  at  the 
house.  This  ar- 
rangement was 
duly  carried  out, 
the  meeting- 
place  being  at 
a  certain  hour 
at  a  lonely 
spot  called 
the  "Black 
Stump,"  a  few 
miles  from 
Bathurst. 

Thus  ended 
for  a  time  a 
particularly  un- 
pleasant experi- 
ence. It  ap- 
peared that  a 
rumour  had 
reached  the  ears 
of  the  gang  that 
several  thou- 
sandsof  pounds' 
worth  of  gold 
was  lodged  at 
my    father's 


house  awaiting  an  escort.     Hence  the  attack. 

The    report,    however,   much    to  their    chagrin, 
proved  to  be  without  foundation. 

Now  for  the  curious  sequel  of  the  story. 
Many  years  after,  when  my  mother  had  gone  on 
the  stage  and  become  a  leading  actress,  she  had 
a  play  written  for  her  in  which  was  embodied  a 
faithful  reproduction  of  the  experience  I  have 
just  narrated.  All  the  members  of  the  gang 
who  took  part  in  the  attack  were  represented  in 
the  mimic  production.  By  this  time  Starlight 
and  all  his  band,  with  one  exception,  had  passed 
over  to  the  great  majority.  The  one  remaining 
member  was  a  fellow  named  Vane.  At  a  place 
called  Orange,  where  my  mother's  play  was  then 
being  performed,  this  ex  -  bushranger  Vane 
happened  to  be  in  the  house,  and  had  the  novel 
experience  of  witnessing  a  realistic  representa- 
tion of  the  tragic  incident  in  which  so  many 
years  before  he  himself  played  no  small  part, 
and  in  which  he  himself  was  represented.  His 
presence  came  to  the  knowledge  of  my  mother, 

and  she  sent  a 
messenger  to 
him,  asking 
him  to  come 
round  behind 
the  scenes  and 
have  a  chat  with 
her.  By  some 
m  cans,  how- 
ever, the  facts 
had  become 
known  to  the 
audience  gener- 
ally, and  find- 
ing himself  the 
object  of  so 
much  attention 
the  erstwhile 
desperado  grew 
uneasy  and  beat 
a  hasty  retreat. 
When  the  mes- 
senger arrived, 
therefore,  he 
was  not  to  be 
found,  anil  my 
mother  and  he 
never  metagain. 


"THE   ERSTWHILE   DESPERAPO   GREW    UNEASY    AND    HEAT    A    HASTY    RETREAT. 


A   Gold  -  Fish    Farm. 


By  A.  L.   Porter. 

Failing    to    make    his    farm    pay    in    the    ordinary  way,  an    enterprising    American    abandoned 

agriculture   and   turned  his  fields  into  a  series  of  ponds,  where  he  now  breeds   gold-fish  on   an 

immense  scale,  drawing  a  handsome  income  from  his  novel   industry. 


T  is  curious  to  think  that  a  hand- 
some living  can  be  made  out  of 
such  seemingly  insignificant  things 
as  gold-fish,  but  such  is  the  fact. 
There  is  a  steady  demand  for  these 
pretty  little  creatures,  both  for  use  and  for 
ornament.  They  make  an  attractive  lure  for 
bigger  fish,  and  hence  are  sought  for  and  bought 
by  anglers  wherever  such  bait  is  needed.  They 
are  likewise  purchased  for  the  vast  numbers  of 
aquariums,  private  and  public,  which  exist  in 
every  city  and  town.  There  are  cheap  gold-fish 
and  costly  gold-fish,  some  very  common  and 
others  quite  as  rare.  The  demand  at  times 
exceeds  the  supply,  and  he  who  goes  in  for 
gold-fish  breeding  on  scientific  lines  is  reason- 
ably sure  to  turn  a  pretty  profit. 

The  gold-fish  farm  at  Waldron,  Indiana,  is  one 
of  the-  largest,  if  not  the  largest,  in  the  world, 
and  possesses  an  interesting  history.     Why  such 


places  are  called  "  farms  "  I  am  unable  to  say. 
In  regard  to  the  Waldron  "farm,"  however, 
there  is  some  reason  for  the  use  of  the  word,  for 
the  now  handsome  property,  cut  up  into  sym- 
metrical sheets  of  water,  was  once  a  genuine 
farm,  on  which  Mr.  William  Shoup  raised 
vegetables  and  other  things  for  market.  The 
business  was  a  failure,  and  gold-fish  accordingly 
took  the  place  of  turnips  and  potatoes. 

That  was  some  years  ago,  and  it  is  said  that 
the  fortunate  owner  now  clears  about  five 
thousand  pounds  each  year  out  of  gold-fish. 
The  little  fish-ponds  which  are  seen  in  the 
photograph  below  are  literally  crammed  with 
over  a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  gold-fish, 
each  of  which,  it  is  hardly  too  much  to  say, 
is  watched  over  with  tender  solicitude  from 
the  day  of  its  birth  till  the  day  of  shipment. 
Soon  after  they  are  hatched  in  a  special 
breeding    pond    the    fish    begin    to    exist    on 


From  a] 


A   GENERAL   VIEW   OF    THE   GCLD-FISH    FARM. 


[Photo. 


A    GOLD-FISH    FARM. 


239 


the  eggs  found  upon  the  grass  and  hay  lying 
near  the  edge  of  the  pond.  Shortly  afterwards 
,.the  pond  is  drained  and  all  the  fish  are  caught 
in  screens  situated  in  the  sluice-ways,  prepara- 
tory to  their  being  separated  according  to  size 
and  placed  in  different  ponds.  As  they  increase 
in  size  they  go  through  a  series  of  ponds  until 
they  are  three  or  four  months  old  and  about  two 
inches  in  length,  after  which  they  enter  the 
largest  pond  of  all,  where  they  are  allowed  to 
"ripen  "  in  size  and  colour  until  sent  to  market. 
During  their  life  of  three  or  four  years  upon 
the  farm  the  gold-fish  have  literally  to  fight  for 
their  lives — not  only  against  predatory  birds,  but 


Until  the  birds  have  begun  their  nightly  rest  the 
gold-fish  farmer  keeps  a  vigilant  eye  upon  these 
robbers  of  the  air,  and  throughout  the  day  the 
continual  cracking  of  guns  tells  that  some 
audacious  attack  is  being  repelled. 

The  breeding  ponds  number  forty-five,  and 
cover  an  area  of  about  twenty-five  acres  on  the 
side  of  a  gently  sloping  hill.  The  ground  is 
arranged  in  terraces,  certain  ponds  being  situated 
in  each  terrace  and  connected  with  each  other 
by  small  canals.  They  are  protected  from  the 
weather  by  banks  and  trees,  water-lilies  being 
planted  along  the  edge  for  the  fish  to  lie  under 
when  the  sun  is  strong.     The  fish  are  fed  mostly 


ON    THIS    FARM    THE   GUN    IS   USED    INSTEAD   OF   THE    HOE,    FOR    MKDS    DESTROY    THOUSANDS 

From  a  Plioto. 


■Vt-.hV    "i  1-  Al\. 


against  their  own  species.  Thousands  are  lost 
every  year  through  the  cannibal  habits  of  their 
brothers  and  sisters,  and  snipe,  kingfishers,  and 
other  fish-loving  birds  continually  hover  over 
the  ponds  awaiting  an  opportunity  to  sweep 
down  and  secure  a  dainty  dinner.  Rats,  too, 
make  an  easy  haul  from  the  sides  of  the  ponds, 
and  for  these  traps  have  to  be  set.  Millions  of 
eggs,  moreover,  are  eaten  by  turtles  and  older 
fish,  and  the  little  ones  are  often  stung  to  death 
by  beetles  and  water-wasps.  The  birds,  how- 
ever, are  the  principal  thieves,  and  on  them 
special  watch  is  kept.  Applicants  for  a  job 
upon  the  farm  are  asked,  not  if  they  can  wield  a 
hoe,  but  if  they  can  use  a  shot-gun,  and  each 
man  engaged  upon  the  farm  is  a  first-class  shot. 


on  breadcrumbs.  Stale  bread  is  bought  in 
huge  quantities  by  the  proprietor  and  toasted 
and  crushed  into  crumbs,  which,  when  feeding- 
time  arrives,  are  taken  to  the  ponds  in  baskets 
and  there  thrown  into  the  water.  It  is  said  that 
the  large  fish  know  as  well  as  do  the  animals  at 
the  Zoo  when  dinner-time  has  arrived,  and  tin- 
approach  of  the  men  with  their  baskets  is  the 
signal  for  a  general  swirl  of  water,  in  which 
innumerable  fish  show  the  impatience  of  a  never- 
ending  hunger. 

Mr.  Shoup  obtains  his  specimens  from  all 
parts  of  the  world,  and  ships  his  product  in  like 
directions.  His  earliest  specimens  came  from 
China  and  Japan,  where  the  gold-fish  has  been 
known   for    centuries,   and    whence   they  were 


240 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


from  a] 


GETTING    A    CONSIGN  MEN!     KEADY    FOR   SHIPMENT. 


{Photo. 


brought  to  the  West.  People  have  always 
been  fond  of  these  beautiful  golden-coloured, 
large-eyed  fishes,  and  some  are  so  rare  that 
they  fetch  forty  or  fifty  pounds  apiece.  They 
live  anywhere  and  can  stand  all  sorts  of 
weather,  though  they  require  plenty  of  sunlight 
to  produce  the  rich  golden  tint  of  their  scales. 
If,  however,  they  get  too  much  sun  they 
become  dark  and  their  value  decreases. 


When  ready  for  market  the  fish  are  taken  out 
of  the  ponds  in  nets  and  carried  to  a  sorting- 
house,  where  they  are  put  in  ventilated  tins 
for  transmission  by  train  to  places  at  home 
and  abroad.  The  above  picture  shows  a 
scene  on  the  day  of  shipment.  Against  the 
iron  shed  near  by  rest  several  guns,  ready 
to  be  snatched  up  at  a  moment's  notice  in 
case  a  flock  of  hungry  birds  appears. 


a  VBk 


f"' 


fiSPi^?*! 


From  a  I 


A    DIG    SUl'l'LY    OKF    TO    MAKKF.T. 


I  Photo. 


A    PRINCESS'S     LOVE    STORY. 


By  Beatrice  Grimshaw. 

A  charming  real-life  romance  from  the  South  Seas.     How  the  bold  young  sea-captain  wooed  the  native 
Princess  and,  after  many  adventures,  carried  her  off  and  married  her  in  spite  of  formidable  obstacles. 


ARATONGA  is  just  a  little  speck  on 
the  map  of  the  wide  Pacific — a  mere 
grain  of  sand  in  a  great  blue  plain. 
Yet  it  is  twenty  miles  in  circumfer- 
ence, and  its  high,  craggy  mountains 
can  be  seen  from  far  away  at  sea.  It  is  a 
singularly  lovely  island  even  for  that  Paradise  of 
beauty,  the  South  Pacific.  The  graceful  palm 
trees  on  the  shore,  the  foam  of  the  fringing  reef, 
the  dazzling  green  of  the  lagoon  within  the 
burning  blue  of  the  open  sea,  the  rich  violet  and 
emerald  of  the  lofty  peaks  above,  make  up  a 
picture  of  unsurpassed  loveliness.  A  beauteous 
land,  of  almost  incredible  peace  and  plenty,  is 
Raratonga,  chief  of  the  Cook  Islands,  where 
my  story  had  its  beginning  many  years  ago. 

In  1874  the  Cook  Islands,  which  now  belong 
to  England,  were  an  independent  group, 
governed  by  their  own  chiefs,  or  Arikis.  These 
Arikis — of  whom  a  few  survive  to  the  present 
day — had  much  more  power  in  those  days  than 
they  are  now  allowed  to  exercise.  They  could 
order  the  execution  of  any  subject  for  any  cause  ; 
they  could  make  war  and  end  it ;  and  no  ship 
dared  to  call  at  the  islands  without  their  per- 
mission. They  owned,  as  they  still  own,  all  the 
land,  and  their  wealth  of  various  kinds  made 
them,  in  the  eyes  of  the  natives,  millionaires  as 
well  as  Sovereigns. 

"  Women's  rights  "  were  , 
a  novelty  to  England 
thirty  years  ago,  but  in 
the  Cook  Islands  they 
were  fully  recognised  even 
at  that  remote  period. 
The  most  powerful  of  the 
Arikis  was  Makea — then 
a  girl,  now  an  elderly 
woman,  but  always 
every  inch  a  Queen,  and 
always  keeping  a  firm 
hand  on  the  sceptre  of 
Raratonga.  Any  Cook 
Islands  postage-stamp  will 
show  Makea  as  she  was 
some  ten  years  ago.  In 
1874  Makea  and  her  con- 
sort, Ngamaru,  were  mak- 
ing plans  for  the  marrying 
of  Tinomana,  a  young 
Raratongan  Princess 
closely  related  to  Makea. 
Tinomana  would  shortly 
become     an      Ariki,     or 

Vol.  xiv— 31. 


Queen,  herself,  and  her  matrimonial  affairs  were, 
in  consequence,  of  considerable  importance. 

What  the  plans  of  Raratonga's  rulers 
for  Tinomana  may  have  been  matters  little. 
Tinomana  was  pretty,  with  splendid  long 
black  hair,  large  soft  brown  eyes,  an  ex- 
cellent profile,  and  a  complexion  little  darker 
than  a  Spaniard's.  She  was  also  self-willed, 
and  she  could  keep  a  secret  as  close  as  wax 
when  she  so  desired.  Tinomana  had  a  secret 
at  that  time,  and  it  concerned  no  South  Sea 
Islander,  but  a  certain  good-looking  young 
Anglo-American  named  John  Salmon  (grandson 
of  a  Ramsgate  sea-captain,  Thomas  Dunnett), 
who  had  lately  landed  at  Raratonga  from  the 
trading  schooner  Venus,  and  had  been  enjoying 
a  good  deal  of  the  pretty  Princess's  society, 
unknown  -  to  the  gossips  of  the  island.  It 
was  a  case  of  love  at  first  sight ;  for  the 
two  had  not  been  more  than  a  few  days 
acquainted  when  they  came  privately  to  James 
Chalmers,  the  famous  missionary,  then  resident 
in  Raratonga,  and  begged  for  a  secret  marriage. 

James  Chalmers  refused  promptly  to  have 
anything  to  do  with  the  matter,  and  furthermore 
told  Tinomana  that  he  would  never  marry  her 
to  any  white  man,  no  matter  who  it  might  be. 
In  his  opinion  such  a  marriage  would  be  certain 


JAMES   CHALMERS    REFUSED    I'KO.MfTLY   TO    HAVE   ANYTHING   TO    DO   WITH    THE   MATTEF 


24< 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


lib   SCI-.NE   OF     1  HE    i  H 

From  a  Photo. 


to  cause  endless  trouble  with  the  other  Arikis— 
apart    from    the    fact    that    Queen    Makea    was 
against  it.     So  the  lovers  went  away  disconso- 
late.      Raratonga  was  keeping   holiday  at   the 
time,    because    a    great   war-canoe   was    to    be 
launched  immediately,  and  a  dance  and  feast 
were   in    preparation. 
But    Tinomana    and 
her  lover  were  out  of 
tune  with  the  festivi- 
ties, and   no  woman 
in  the  island  prepared 
her    stephanotis    and 
hibiscus  garlands  for 
the    feast,  or    plaited 
baskets  of  green  palm 
leaves    to   carry  con- 
tributions   of    baked 
sucking-pig  and  pine- 
apples, with  as  heavy 
a   heart  as   the    little 
Princess. 

On  the  day  of  the 
feast  an  idea  came  to 
Salmon.     There  were 

two  schooners  lying  in  Avarua  harbour.  One,  the 
Coronet,  had  for  captain  a  man  named  Rose,  who 
was  as  much  opposed  to  Salmon's  marriage  as 
Chalmers  himself.  The  Humboldt  schooner,  on 
the  other  hand,  had  a  friend  of  Salmon's  in 
command.  From  him  some  help  might  be 
expected.  Salmon 
visited  him  secretly, 
found  that  he  was 
willing  to  assist, 
and  arranged  for  an 
elopement  that  very 
night.  Tinomana 
was  willing;  nobody 
suspected ;  and  the 
feast  would  furnish 
a  capital  oppor- 
tunity. 

There  was  no 
moon  that  evening, 
happily  for  the 
lovers,  for  the  small- 
est sign  would  have 
awaked  the  \  sus- 
picions  of  the 
watching  Coronet. 
When  the  feast  had 
begun,  and  all 
Raratonga  was 
making  merry  with 
pig  and  baked  ban- 
ana, raw  fish  and 
pineapple  beer, 
Tinomana     con- 


FKESF.NT-OAY   PORTRAITS   OF    QUEEN     TINOMANA     AND     HER    ANGLO-AMERICAN 

CONSORT, 

From  a  Photo.  From  a  Photo. 


trived  to  slip  away  and  get  back  to  her 
house.  Womanlike,  she  would  not  go  with- 
out her  "  things " ;  and  she  took  so  long 
collecting  and  packing  her  treasures  —  her 
silk  and  muslin  dresses,  her  feather  crowns,  her 
fans  and  bits  of  cherished  European  finery  from 

far-away  Auckland — 
that  the  suspicions  of 
a    prying     girl    were 
aroused.        Out    she 
came,     accompanied 
by  two   others  —  all 
handmaidens       to 
Tinomana  — and 
charged  the  Princess 
with  an   intention  to 
elope.     Tinomana 
acknowledged  the 
truth,     and    ordered 
the  girls  to  hold  their 
tongues,  offering  them 
liberal  rewards.    This 
was  not  enough,  how- 
ever ;  the  three  girls 
demanded  that  Tino- 
mana, in  addition  to  buying  their  silence,  should 
shield  them  from  the  possible  wrath  of  the  great 
Makea    by   taking   them    with    her.       She    was 
forced  to  consent ;  and  so,  when  the  impatient 
lover,  lurking  in  the  darkness  near  the  harbour, 
saw  his  lady  coming  at  last,  she  came  with  three 

attendants,  and  al- 
most enough  lug- 
gage to  rival  Marie 
Antoinette's  en- 
cumbered flight  to 
Varennes. 

Eventually,  how- 
ever, the  party  put 
off  in  a  canoe,  the 
girls  lying  flat  in 
the  bottom,  with 
Tinomana  crouch- 
ing beside  them 
and  Salmon  hold- 
ing a  lighted  torch, 
which  he  waved  in 
the  air.  For  the 
boat  had  to  pass 
close  by  the  Coro- 
net, and  Captain 
Rose,  somehow  or 
other,  had  become 
suspicious,  and 
young  Salmon  knew 
he  would  think  no- 
thing of  stopping 
any  boat  that  could 
not  give  an  account 


A    PRINCESS'S    LOVE    STORY. 


2  43 


of  itself.  So  Salmon  took  the  torch  to  look  like 
a  fishing-boat  going  out  with  spears  and  torches 
to  the  reef,  and,  paddling  with  one  hand  while 
he  held  the  light  aloft  with  the  other,  he  passed 
the  Coronet  safely,  knowing  well  that  his  face 
would  be  unrecognisable  at  a  distance  of  fifty 
yards  or  so  in  the  wavering  light  of  the  flame. 


moment  to  be  impossible.  They  knew  that  the 
Humboldt  had  probably  made  for  Mangaia; 
but  the  breeze  had  died  away,  and  the  Coronet^ 
her  sails  flapping  idly  against  her  rakish  masts, 
lay  helpless  in  harbour.  Some  brilliant  spirit, 
however,  proposed  that  the  schooner  should  be 
towed  out,  in   the  hope  of  catching  a   breeze 

beyond  the  r< 
and    half-a-dozen 
great  whaleboats, 
manned  by  power 
ful     arms,     win 
harnessed  to  the 
Coronet's  bows. 
Out    she   can,' 
through  the  open 
ing  in   the  foam- 
ing  coral   reef, 
with       screaming 
and     splashing 
tugging    at 
into    the 


!"HE      COKONET      SAFELV. 


Beyond  the  reef  lay  the  Humboldt  waiting. 
Tinomana  and  her  maids  and  her  luggage  were 
swung  up  the  side  with  small  ceremony;  Salmon 
hurried  after,  and  a  small  but  welcome  breeze 
enabled  the  schooner  to  slip  out  to  sea  un- 
noticed in  the  dark.  She  made  for  Mangaia, 
another  of  the  Cook  Islands,  some  hundred  and 
fifty  miles  away,  and  reached  it  in  a  couple  of 
days.  But  the  Humboldt  had  hardly  made  the 
land  when  the  dreaded  Coronet  appeared  on  the 
horizon,  carrying  every  stitch  of  sail,  and  with 
her  decks,  her  "  Jacob's-ladder,"  and  her  very 
yard-arms  crowded  by  furious  Raratongans. 
The  fugitives  were  caught  ! 

At  first  they  had  not  been  missed.  The 
islanders  were  feasting  and  drinking,  the  Arikis 
were  unsuspicious,  and  the  Coronet  had  seen 
only  a  fishing- canoe  with  a  solitary  man  on 
board  gliding  out  to  the  reef.  But  with  the 
morning  light  came  the  knowledge  that  Tino- 
mana was  absent  from  her  palace,  that  Salmon 
had  not  come  home,  and  that  the  Humboldt 
was  gone.  Raratonga  was  enraged,  and  all  the 
more    so    because    pursuit    appeared    for   the 


and 
oars, 

blue,  open  sea, 
and  beyond  the 
shelter  of  the 
peaky,  purple 
hills.  The  breeze 
was  met  at  last. 
the  boats  cast  off 
and  d  r  o  p  p  e d 
astern,  and  the 
Coronet,  carrying 
half  Raratonga 
on  board,  set  sail 
for  Mangaia. 
the  Humboldt  the 
of  armed  men,  and 


Once  within  range  of 
Coronet  lowered  a  boatful 
the  latter  made  for  the  schooner  lying-to  under 
the  shelter  of  the  Mangaian  hills.  Captain 
Harris,  of  the  Humboldt,  however,  ordered  his 
crew  to  shoot  down  the  first  man  who  attempted 
to  board,  and  the  attacking  boat  thought  better 
of  it.  Beaten  by  force  they  tried  diplomacy,  in 
which  they  were  more  successful.  They  told 
Captain  Harris  that  all  his  cargo  of  valuable 
cotton,  lying  on  the  wharf  at  Raratonga  ready 
for  shipment,  would  be  destroyed  unless  he  gave 
the  Princess  back.  This  meant  absolute  ruin, 
and  the  captain  had  to  submit.  Salmon  told 
Tinomana  that  it  was  best  to  give  in  for 
the  present,  as  they  were  caught  ;  but  that 
the  parting  would  be  only  for  a  time.  And 
back  to  Raratonga  went  the  disconsolate 
Princess,  bereft  of  her  lover  and  her  stolen 
wedding,  and  with  the  anticipation  of  a  good 
scolding  to  come  from  the  indignant  Arikis. 

For  some  months  after  this  disaster  Salmon 
wandered  about  from  island  to  island,  living 
now  in   Raiatea,  now  in  Flint  Island,  now  in 


244 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


Mauke—  always  restless  and  always 
impatient.  At  last  he  judged  the 
time  had  come  to  make  a  second 
attempt,  and  tried  to  obtain  a 
passage  to  Raratonga.  Schooner 
after  schooner  refused  to  take  him, 
but  finally  a  little  vessel  called  the 
Atalanta  braved  the  wrath  of  the 
Arikis  and  brought  him  back. 
During  his  absence  time  had 
worked  in  his  favour,  and  the 
opposition  to  the  marriage  was 
now  much  less.  The  Arikis 
received  him  coolly  and  fined  him 
twenty  pounds'  worth  of  needles, 
thread,  and  tobacco  for  his  late 
excursion,  but  they  no  longer 
refused  to  let  him  see  Tinomana. 
The  missionary,  however,  still 
obj  .cted  to  the  marriage,  and  as 
he  was  the  only  clergyman  avail- 
able for  the  ceremony  it  seemed 
as  if  things,  on  the  whole,  were 
"  getting  no  forrader." 

At  this  juncture  the  great 
Makea  stepped  in,  and  with  the 
charming  variability  common  to 
her  sex  took  the  part  of  the  lovers 
against  all  Raratonga  as  strongly 
as  she  had  before  opposed  their 
union.  She  was  not  then  in  Rara- 
tonga, but  in  another  of  the  Cook 
Islands,  Atiu.  From  thence  she 
sent  the  schooner  Venus  to  Rara- 
tonga, ordering  the  captain  to 
fetch  Tinomana  and  Salmon  to 
Atiu,  where  the  local  missionary  would  marry 
them,  or  Makea  would  know  the  reason  why. 

Raratonga  —  obstinate  Raratonga!  —  still  re- 
fused to  give  its  Princess  to  a  foreign  adventurer, 
though  it  trembled  at  the  thought  of  defying  the 
Elizabethan  Makea.  A  band  of  warriors  came 
down  to  the  harbour  to  see  that  Salmon  did  not 
get  on  board  the  ship.  As  for  Tinomana,  they 
did  not  dare  to  oppose  her  departure,  when  the 
head  of  the  house  had  actually  summoned  her. 
But  the  Princess  had  no  notion  whatever  of 
going  alone.  Salmon  was  smuggled  on  board 
in  the  dusk  and  hidden  under  a  bunk.  A  pile 
of  mats  and  native  "  pareos,"  or  kilts,  was 
placed  over  him,  and  there,  in  the  heat  of  the 
tropic  night,  he  lay  and  sweltered,  while  the 
Venus  swung  to  her  cable  and  the  warriors 
hunted  the  ship  and  found  nothing.  When 
they  went  off,  baffled,  the  schooner  put  to 
sea.  A  Raratongan  vessel,  still  suspicious, 
chased  her  to  Atiu,  but  Makea  informed  the 
pursuing  crew  that  it  would  be  bad  for   their 


SALMON'    WAS    HIDDEN    UNDER    A    BUNK. 


health  to  land  on  her  property  unasked ;  and,  as 
this  great  Pacific  Queen  had,  and  has,  the 
reputation  of  being  able  to  kill  by  a  mere  act  of 
will,  at  any  distance,  the  Raratongans  did  not 
dare  to  set  foot  on  shore.  This  time  it  was  they 
who  went  home  disconsolate. 

And  so  the  young  couple  were  married  "and 
lived  happily  ever  after."  Tinomana  and  her 
consort  now  reside  at  Arvranga,  Raratonga,  in  a 
long,  low  house,  set  among  frangipani  trees 
and  oranges,  and  covered  with  flowering  tropical 
creepers.  They  have  a  fine  big  "palace" 
opposite,  but  do  not  often  occupy  it.  Tinomana's 
five  children  are  dead ;  she  herself  is  growing 
old,  but  the  memory  of  her  long-past  days  of 
adventure  and  romance  is  still  with  her. 
Her  life  glides  quietly  and  dreamily  by,  within 
sound  of  the  humming  ocean  surf,  under  the 
shadow  of  the  purple  Raratongan  hills.  She 
has  had  her  day,  and  there  remain  the  quiet 
sunset  and  the  softened  twilight  before  the  time 
of  dark. 


"  Lone    Star."* 

THE    ADVENTURES    OF    A    FAMOUS    SCO!    I 

By  T.  R.   Porter. 

Being  episodes  from  the  career   of  Mr.  Fred  M.   Hans,  a  famous  American  army  scout  and  Indian 

fighter,  who  alone  and  single-handed  accomplished  all  but  incredible  feats.    In  the  subjoined  narrative 

the  author  describes  how  "  Lone   Star  "  was  sent  to   break    up  the    bands   of  outlaws  infesting  the 

Black  Hills  of  Dakota,  and  how  he  carried  out   his  hazardous  mission. 

I.  — HOW    "LONE   STAR"   CLEARED  THE    HILLS. 


URING  the 

few  months 
immedi- 
ately suc- 
ceeding the 
of    gold    in 


discovery 

large  quantities  in  the 
famous  Black  Hills  of 
Dakota,      and      the 
ceding   of    that    range 
of    mountains    to    the 
United  States  Govern- 
ment   by    the    leading 
chiefs  of  the   Sioux 
Indian      tribes,      there 
flocked    into    the    dis- 
trict gold-hunters  from 
every     country     under 
the    sun.       From    California,    Australia, 
Africa,    Mexico,    and    South     America 
experienced    miners,    searching 
for     the     yellow     metal    which 
had     eluded     them     in     other 
diggings;    European   coun- 
tries sent  their   quota  of  emi- 
grants   to    the    new  Golconda  ; 
and  American  cities  sent  some 
of  every  class  to  swell  the  mining 
camps  which  were  springing  up 
in   every  gulch   and   canyon  of 
the  "  Hills." 

Among  these  people,  gathered 
from  the  four  corners  of  the 
earth  and  thrown  together  in  a 
wild,  mountain  region  three  hun- 
dred miles  from  the  railroad, 
were  some  of  the  worst  charac- 
ters known  in  what  was  literally 
at  that  time  the  "wild  and 
woolly  "  West.  There  were 
gamblers,  thieves,  murderers, 
"  road  -  agents,"  desperadoes 
badly  "  wanted  "  in  other  parts 


HEAD-CJUARTERS,  ARMY  OF  THE   UNITED 
STATES. 

Washington,  D.C., 
December  1 6,  1 886. 

To  Whom  It  May  Concern. 

I  have  known  Mr.  Fred  M.  Hans  ("  Lone 
Star")  for  about  ten  years.  He  was  a  scout  and 
guide  on  the  plains  serving  with  the  troops  opera- 
ting against  hostile  Indians  from  1876  to  1881. 
From  personal  knowledge  and  from  reports  of 
officers  with  whom  he  operated  I  take  pleasure  in 
recommending  him  for  the  gallant  service  he  has 
rendered  the  army.  For  faithfulness^  daring,  en- 
durance, and  good  judgment  he  is  the  superior  of 
any  scout  and  guide  I  have  ever  known. 

(Signed)  P.   II.   Sheridan, 

Lieutenant-General. 


LIEUTENANT-GENERAL  SHEK1DAN  S  TESTIMONIAL  TO       LONE  STAR. 


*  Mr.  Hans,  the  "  Lone  Star"  of  this  series,  is  a  comparatively 
young  man,  being  only  forty-three  years  of  age.  He  is  well  educated, 
a  teetotaler  and  non-smoker,  and  looks  altogether  different  from 
the  usual  type  of  frontiersman.  He  speaks  half-a-dozen  Indian 
languages  fluently,  and  early  in  his  career  the  Sioux  gave  him  the 
name  of  "  We-Chach-Pe-Wan-Ge-La  "  ("  Lone  Star  "),  owing  to  his 
custom  of  scouting  alone.  Mr.  Hans  is  now  a  special  officer  of  the 
North-Western  Railroad  of  America,  and  has  charge  of  the  gold 
shipments  from  the  Black  Hills. — The  Author. 


of  the  country,  and  the 
nondescript  flotsam  and 
jetsam  of  mining  camps 
and  frontier  towns.  The 
Indian  wars  had  been 
in  progress  for  a  number 
of  years  and  the  red 
men  were  even  at  that 
time  on  the  war-path. 
General  Custer  and  his 
entire  command  had 
been  massacred  by  the 
fierce  Sioux  and  Che- 
yennes  under  Sitting 
Bull,  Rain-in-the-Face, 
and  Gall,  some  dis- 
tance to  the  north-west 
of  the  Black  Hills,  and 
South  bands  of  roving  Indians  ready  to  fight  or  to  run 
came         were  frequently  met  with.      Far  more  dangerous 

than  the  roving  Indians,  how- 
ever, were  the  organized  bands 
of  outlaws  or  road-agents,  who, 
from  their  rendezvous  in  in- 
accessible mountain  caves  or 
canyons,  swooped  down  on 
parties  of  placer-miners,  mur- 
dered the  men,  and  secured 
their  gold  ;  or  ambushed  a 
freight  "train"  of  supplies,  kill- 
ing the  drivers,  and  taking  what 
provisions  they  wanted.  Or 
they  would  hold-up  the  overland 
stage-coach,  rob  the  express  and 
mail-sacks,  frequently  shoot  the 
passengers,  and  be  miles  away 
before  the  news  reached  the 
settlements. 

So  busy  were  the  gold-hunters 
seeking  their  fortunes  that  little 
attention  was  paid  to  the  many 
murders  and  robberies  com- 
mitted by  the  road-agents.  In 
whose  unenviable  reputation  for 
soon     spread    round    the    world, 


FRED      M.      HANS     ("  LONE     STAR"), 
THE    FAMOUS    SCOUT. 

From  a  Photo,  by  Rinehart. 


Dead  wood, 

"  toughness 

every  other  building  was  a  saloon  and  gambling 

den,  and  there  were  more  people  on  the  streets 

at  midnight  than  at  noon.     The  placer-miners 

worked  during  the  day  and  spent  their  money 


246 


"LONE    STAR." 


GENERAL   CROOK,   OF    THE   UNITED 

STATES     ARMY,     WHO     INSTRUCTED 

"  LONE  STAR"  TO  HUNT  DOWN  THE 

OUTLAWS  OF  THE  BLACK  HILLS. 


lavishly  by  night. 
Officers  of  the  law 
there  were,  but  it  was 
said  they  were  too 
busy  gambling  to 
attempt  to  enforce 
any  of  the  laws. 
Pistol  duels  were  of 
frequent  occurrence, 
and  the  survivor  was 
supposed  to  have 
been  attending  to  his 
own  affairs  when  the 
match  came  off. 

In  the  midst  of  all 
this  activity  of  work 
and  crime  there  one 
day  rode  into  Dead- 
wood    a  young    man 

scarcely  more  than  twenty  years  old.  He  was 
travelling  alone  —  a  rare  thing  in  that  wild 
country — and  he  carried  no  Winchester  rifle, 
which  was  also  strange.  However,  he  did 
not  lack  for  arms,  for  the  white  handles  of  two 
large  Colt  revolvers  protruded  from  their  holsters. 
In  a  secret  pocket  this  solitary  horseman  carried 
instructions  from  the  famous  Indian  fighter, 
General  Crook — who  was  in  command  of  the 
United  States  troops  in  that  district — bidding 
him  hunt  down  the  outlaws  and  road-agents  of 
the  Black  Hills — truly  a  formidable  task. 

The  young  man  was  the  famous  Indian  scout 
and  guide,  "  Lone  Star."  He  had  been  sent 
single-handed,  at  his  own  request,  to  eradicate 
the  road-agents.  A  numerous  party,  he  knew, 
would  never  discover  the  outlaws,  who  would, 
on  its  approach,  simply  retreat   farther  into  the 


mountains  until  the  danger  was  past.    One  man, 
however,  they  would  not  suspect.     It  was  a  des- 
perate mission,  but  General  Crook  knew  his  man. 
Scarcely  a  week  elapsed  after  "  Lone  Star's  " 


Fiom  a 


I. (iNK   STAR       IN    HIS   SCOUTING   COSTUME 


From  a] 


THE    CITY   OF    DEADWOOD   AS   IT    IS   TO-DAY. 


[Photo. 


"LONE    STAR." 


247 


arrival  in  Deadvvood  before  news  of  an  outrage 
was  brought  in.  Two  "  freighters "  had  been 
waylaid  and  murdered.  A  portion  of  their 
freight  and  all  the  horses  had  been  stolen,  and 
that  part  of  the  supplies  which  could  not  be 
removed  had  been  wantonly  scattered  along 
the  trail.  Since  the  scalps  of  the  dead  men  had 
not  been  touched,  it  was  evident  that  the  work 
was  done  by  white  men. 

Quietly  securing  his  horse,  the  youthful 
bandit-hunter  left  for  the  scene  of  the  outrage. 
It  was  his  purpose  to  track  the  perpetrators  to 
their  mountain  lair,  and  then  hasten  to  the 
nearest  mining  camp,  secure  the  assistance  of  a 
party  of  miners,  and  return  and  capture  the 
outlaws. 

Along  the  well-defined  Che- 
yenne stage-road  "  Lone  Star  " 
galloped  his  wiry  prairie  pony. 
By  the  following  day  at  noon 
he  had  covered  ninety  miles 
and  arrived  at  the  scene  of 
the  murder. 

The  trail  left  by  the  freigh- 
ters' horses,  which  the  road- 
agents  had  stolen,  was  easily 
discernible  and  as  easily 
followed.  Right  into  the 
heart  of  the  mountains  it 
plunged,  and  "  Lone  Star 
followed  immediately,  although 
he  had  travelled  far  during 
the  past  two  days. 

Through  canyons  whose 
sides  were  perpendicular 
for  thousands  of  feet, 
along  ledges  where  a  mis- 
step meant  death  on  the 
rocks  hundreds  of  feet 
below,  and  along  the  beds 
of  turbulent  mountain 
streams  went  the  trail,  and 
the  tireless  scout  followed. 

Through  fifteen  miles 
of  this  kind  of  country 
"Lone  Star"  pushed 
forward,     telling     himself 

that  by  the  following  day  at  noon  he  would 
probably  overtake  the  robbers,  and  after  ascer- 
taining their  hiding-place  would  go  to  Deadwood, 
secure  a  posse,  and  return  and  capture  the  band. 

Shortly  before  sundown  the  canyon  through 
which  he  had  been  travelling  widened  into  a 
narrow  valley,  and  "  Lone  Star  "  decided  to  go 
into  camp  for  the  night.  Just  as  this  decision 
was  made  and  before  he  had  an  opportunity  to 
dismount,  without  warning  came  the  sudden 
shouted  command  : — 

"  Halt  ! " 


The  scout  had  ridden  right  into  the  gang  for 
whom  he  was  searching  !  Within  a  few  yards, 
previously  sheltered  from  his  view  by  a  turn  in 
the  valley,  was  the  mouth  of  a  large  cave,  and 
standing  just  within  the  entrance  were  half-a- 
dozen  villainous-looking  men.  The  command 
to  halt  had  been  given  by  the  leader  of  this  band. 

"Lone    Star"    realized    his    deadly    danger 

-.   immediately,   but   the    man    in    whom    General 

Crook   placed   so   much    confidence    was    not 

one    to   lose   his   nerve   or    to    be    daunted   by 

any  position  in  which  he  was  placed. 

However,  he  halted,  and  on  being  commanded 
to  dismount  did  so,  pretending  at  the  same 
time  to  consider  the  affair  as  a  joke. 


C*»i*<    ^epf.f<. 


THE    SCOUT    HAD    RIDDEN    RIGHT    INTO   THE    GANG    FOR    WHOM    HE    WAS    S 


ING. 


"Say,  do  you  fellows  think  I'm  an  Indian?" 
he  cried,  laughingly,  "or  do  I  look  dangerous? 
I  won't  hurt  any  of  you,  but  I  should  like  to 
camp  on  this  creek  to-night,  if  you  don't  obj< 

"I  guess  you  can  come  in  b  the  night 

and  stay  with  us  if  you  want  to,"  answered  one 
of  the  robbers,  after  a  moment's  talk  with  his 
comrades.  "  We  are  freighters  who  have 
camped  here  for  the  winter  season,"  he  added. 

"Lone  Star"  saw  the  futility  of  fighting 
against  such  odds,  and  determined  to  appear 
as  friendly  as  possible  while  waiting  an  oppor- 


248 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


tunity  to  escape.  He  explained  to  the  bandits 
that  he  was  a  gold-hunter,  and  had  stumbled 
upon  their  cave  by  accident.  He  said  that  he 
had  sold  his  claim  in  the  Black  Hills  for  two 
thousand  dollars,  but  would  not  get  his  money 
until  the  following  week,  after  which  he  intended 
going  to  Cheyenne.  His  horse  being  very  tired, 
he  had  decided,  he  said,  to  rest  in  the  moun- 
tains for  a  few  days,  when  he  would  return  to 
the  Hills,  get  his  cash  for  the  mine,  and  start  for 
Cheyenne. 

Upon  hearing  this  one  of  the  robbers  invited 
him  to  remain  with  them  for  a  few  days  and  to 
stay  all  night  with  them,  as  he  was  en  route  to 
Cheyenne,  when  one  of  their  number,  who  was 
compelled  to  make  the  same  trip,  would  accom- 
pany him.  "  Lone  Star  "  knew  by  this  that  the 
outlaws  would  permit  him  to  depart,  in  hopes 
of  securing  the  dollars  when  he  returned. 

After  waiting  at  the  cave  for  three  days  the 
scout  bade  good-bye  to  the  road-agents,  and 
told  them  the  day  he  expected  to  return  with 
the  money  for  the  mine. 

Twenty-four  hours  before  he  was  due  to 
return,  however,   "  Lone  Star "  piloted  a  posse 


JC*>«*<  ^c* 


THE    FIGHT    WAS    BRIEF. 


of  miners,  which  he  had  hastily  gathered  from 
the  mining  camp  of  Custer,  to  a  position  com- 
manding the  entrance  to  the  robbers'  cave.  A 
shout  from  the  scout  brought  the  bandits  out 
into  the  valley,  where  they  soon  discovered  the 
trick  which  had  been  played  on  them. 

The  fight  was  brief.  Every  one  of  the  out- 
laws— there  were  nine  of  them — was  killed,  but 
not  a  single  member  of  the  posse  was  injured. 
Five  of  the  band,  however,  were  not  at  the  cave 
when  the  battle  was  fought,  and  so  escaped  the 
fate  of  their  comrades. 

After  the  dead  were  buried  the  cave  was 
ransacked  and  a  large  amount  of  gold  dust  and 
other  valuable  booty  recovered.  Much  of  this 
was  never  identified,  and  a  curious  cut-glass 
bottle  filled  with  gold  dust  was  given  to  "  Lone 
Star." 

Meanwhile  the  five  bandits  whose  absence 
had  saved  their  lives  discovered  who  had 
revealed  the  secret  of  the  cave,  and  determined 
to  seek  revenge  for  the  death  of  their  comrades. 
Three  weeks  after  the  battle  at  the  cave  these 
five  outlaws  discovered  young  "  Lone  Star  "  alone 
on  the  prairie,  and  attacked  him  from  ambush 

with  Winchester 
rifles.  Then  fol- 
lowed one  of  the 
most  remarkable 
battles  ever 
fought  on  the 
Western  plains. 
Let  me  describe 
it  in  the  scout's 
own  words,  as 
set  down  in  his 
report  of  the 
affair :  — 

I  was  as  much 
surprised  as  I 
ever  shall  be 
when  five  horse- 
men suddenly 
rode  over  a  sand- 
hillandeveryman 
of  them  began 
firing  at  me  with 
his  rifle,  at  the 
same  time  cry- 
ing, "Yes,  that's 
'Lone  Star.' 
Now  we'll  get 
even  with  him  !  " 
At  the  first  shot 
my  horse  was 
killed  and  drop- 
ped like  a  stone. 
This    saved    my 


"LONE    STAR. 


249 


life,  as  in  falling  I 
managed  to  tumble 
behind  the  horse,  and 
fur  a  moment  was  out 
of  sight  of  the  ruffians. 
In  that  moment  my 
two  Colt  revolvers  were 
drawn,  and  I  was  pre- 
pared to  fight  to  the 
last,  never  doubting, 
however,  but  that  I 
should  be  killed. 

Continuing  to  fire  at 
the  horse  behind  which 
1  lay,  the  bandits 
approached  to  within 
seventy-five  yards 
of  me.  There 
they  separated  and 
began  to  surround 
me.  I  knew  that 
would  never  do. 
Resting  my  two 
pistols  on  the  back 
of  the  dead  horse, 
my  first  shot  killed 
an  outlaw's  horse, 
and  his  rider  fell 
as  though  dead. 
Again  I  fired,  and 
one  of  the  out- 
laws on  my  left 
fell  with  a  bullet 
in  the  hip.  He 
fainted  immediately  and   was  out  of  the  fight. 

A  Winchester  bullet  at  that  moment  clipped 
through  my  hair,  cutting  a  long  gash  in  the 
scalp,  from  which  the  blood  flowed  down  my 
face  in  a  stream,  but  did  not  render  me  un- 
conscious. Loss  of  consciousness  for  a  moment 
just  then  would  have  meant  death  to  me. 

Another  shot  to  the  left,  and  the  only 
man  approaching  me  from  that  side  fell  shot 
through  the  heart.  Turning  to  the  right,  I  found 
three  men  approaching,  two  on  their  horses, 
while  the  third  was  the  man  whose  horse  had 
been  killed  at  my  first  shot.  This  man  had  me 
covered  with  his  Winchester  and  was  just  about 
to  fire  when  I  took  a  snap  shot  and  sent  a  bullet 
through  his  brain. 

This  disheartened  the  two  remaining  bandits 
and  they  started  to  ride  away.  With  blood 
streaming  down  my  face  and  a  pistol  in  either 
hand,  I  rose  from  behind  my  dead  horse  and, 
covering  them,  demanded  their  surrender. 

They  attempted  to  argue,  but  I  cut  them 
short  by  telling  them  to  surrender  immediately 


MY    FIRST    SHOT    KILLED    AN    OUTLAWS    HORSE. 


or  continue  the  fight.  At  this  they  dropped 
their  guns,  dismounted,  and  surrendered. 

There  I  was,  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles 
from  a  white  man's  camp,  in  the  heart  of  the 
Indian  country,  wounded  myself,  and  with  three 
desperate  criminals  as  prisoners,  one  of  them 
being  badly  injured.  But  1  forced  the  bandits 
to  tie  their  wounded  comrade  on  his  horse, 
mount  their  own  horses,  and  ride  before  me, 
with  the  injunction  that  a  single  suspicious  move 
on  their  parts  would  be  death  to  them. 

In  this  way  we  proceeded  for  two  days  and 
nights,  without  sleep,  and  on  the  third  day  I 
rode  into  the  fort  and  turned  over  the  prisoners 
to  General  Crook,  who  bluntly  said  I  should 
have  killed  all  five  of  the  villains  while  the  row 
was  in  progress  ! 

Returning  to  the  scene  of  the  fight  some 
time  later,  I  found  that  no  fewer  than  seventeen 
bullets  had  pierced  my  dead  horse  ! 

That,  however,  was  the  last  of  the  road-agents 
in  the  Black  Hills,  and  no  further  trouble  was 
experienced  from  that  source  for  many  months. 


Vol.  xiv.—  32. 


(To   be  continued.) 


The  Woman   at  the  Window. 

THE    MYSTERY    OF    A    MANOR-HOUSE. 

By  Tom  Bevan. 

Desirous  of  rest  and  change,  the  author   took  up  his  residence  in   an  ancient  manor-house    in 

Gloucestershire.     One  night,  while  sitting   up  alone,  he  met  with    a   most    uncanny  experience, 

which  is  here  set  forth,  together  with  the  solution  of  the  mystery. 


WAS  in  need  of  a  rest,  a  real  rest,  a 
freedom  from  city  and  crowd,  noise 
and  work.  A  generous  relative,  who 
farmed  along  the  hills  of  the  "  West 
Countrie,"was  the  fortunate  possessor 
of  two  goodly  farmhouses  that  lay  practically 
adjacent  to  each  other.  In  one  of  these,  a 
modern  building,  he  dwelt  himself;  the  other, 
the  old  manor-house  of  the  place,  and  dating 
back  at  least  four  hundred  years,  was  partially 
furnished,  and  was  "To  Let"  to  any  suitable 
tenant.  Tenants,  however,  were  not  eager  for 
possession,  although  the 
house  lay  over  six  hun- 
dred feet  above  the  sea- 
level  and  commanded 
magnificent  views  across 
the  flat  valley  of  the 
Severn  on  the  one  hand 
and  down  into  the  narrow 
valley  of  the  Avon  on  the 
other.  So  it  happened 
that  one  fine  morning  I 
received  an  offer  of  house 
and  garden  free  gratis 
and  for  nothing  for  the 
summer  months.  I  closed 
with  the  kind  offer  at 
once.  The  village  of 
West  Littleton  was  lonely 
enough  and  tiny  enough, 
possessing  neither  inn, 
school,  shop,  post-office, 
nor  resident  policeman. 
But  the  rolling  hills  were 
glorious,  the  air  invigor- 
ating,   and     the    simple 

folk  quaint  and  interesting.  The  patriarchs  of 
the  place  were  steeped  in  superstition,  and 
according  to  them  witches  still  twirled  their 
lean  shanks  along  the  hilltops  o'  moonlight 
nights.  In  the  journey  from  Paddington  to 
West  Littleton  the  traveller  dropped  a  couple 
of  centuries  of  time. 

I  had  occupied  the  manor-house  for  about  a 
month,  and  had   grown  quite  fond  of  the  grey 


THE    AUTHOR 


From  a  Photo,  by  G.  W 


stone  pile.  The  panelled  rooms  were  airy,  yet 
cosy  ;  the  flagged  floors  and  corridors  were  cool 
to  the  feet,  and  the  window-seats  formed  delight- 
ful nooks  on  hot  afternoons.  I  had  half  filled  a 
sketch-book  with  drawings  of  quaint  corners, 
windows,  and  vistas  of  rooms  seen  through 
arched  oaken  doorways.  I  had  talked  to  grand- 
fathers and  great-grandfathers  concerning  the 
history  of  the  house,  and  had  heard  many 
stories  concerning  former  "  squires,"  especially 
one  who  did  a  little  sub-rosa  highwayman 
business  on  the  neighbouring  Bath  road.     But 

all  my  inquiries  concern- 
ing "ghosts"  failed  to 
drag  one  decent 
"  spook  "  out  of  limbo. 
I  was  puzzled,  for  on  a 
windy  night  the  creak- 
ings  and  groanings  of 
the  heavy  oaken  doors 
in  the  dormitories  above 
the  bedrooms  we  occu- 
pied were  alarming 
enough.  I  forsook  ghosts 
and  regaled  myself  with 
witches. 

One  night  I  sat  in 
the  dining-room  reading, 
long  after  the  rest  of 
my  little  household  had 
gone  to  bed.  It  must 
have  been  close  upon 
midnight  when  I  took 
the  lamp  and  went  into 
the  kitchen  to  see  that 
all  bolts  and  bars  were 
properly  fastened.  The 
kitchen  door  was  simply  latched,  so  I  placed 
the  lamp  upon  the  table  and  went  into  the 
scullery — a  huge,  draughty  apartment,  boasting 
a  gigantic  pump,  which  had  a  flight  of  three 
steps  provided  for  reaching  its  handle.  From 
the  scullery  a  door  led  immediately  out 
to  the  kitchen  garden.  The  bolts  here  were 
securely  shot.  Moonlight  was  pouring  in  a 
silvery  flood  through  the  window,  and  I  stepped 


MR.    TOM     KEVAS. 

Austen,  Highbury  Place,  N. 


THE    WOMAN    AT    THE    WINDOW. 


25* 


aside  and  looked  out.  The  peace  of  the  night 
fled  on  the  instant,  and  I  felt  my  lower  jaw  drop 
as  though  someone  had  pulled  it  down  with  a 
string.  Standing  within  three  feet  of  the  window, 
staring  stolidly  in,  was  a  woman,  draped  from 
head  to  heels  in  white  ! 

I  was  too  startled  to  move,  and  blinked  at 
the  apparition,  which  glared  at  me  in  return, 
remaining  all  the  while  absolutely  immovable. 

When  I  got  my  breath  again  I  beat  a  hasty 
retreat  to  the  kitchen  and  sat  on  the  table,  look- 
ing through  the  open 
door  into  the  scul- 
lery. I  was  scared. 
I  said  to  myself  that 
I  was  not,  hut  I  was. 
I  collected  my  wits 
and  argued  the  thing 
out. 

"  I  don't  believe 
in  ghosts,"  I  said. 

"  What's  that  out- 
side, then  ?  "  was  the 
answering  thought. 

"  An  illusion,"  I 
declared.  "  It  must 
be  ;  there  are  no 
ghosts." 

"  But  there's  a 
woman  looking 
through  the  scullery 
window,  and  West 
Littleton  goes  to  bed 
at  nine  o'clock." 

I  didn't  answer 
this.  Presently  I 
stole  to  the  window 
again  and  took  one 
peep.  The  woman 
was  still  there,  and 
her  position  was  un- 
changed. The  fixed- 
ness of  the  thing 
had  something  relent- 
less about  it.  W  hy 
didn't     it     move  ? 

Back  I  went  to  the  kitchen  table.  I  watched 
for  any  moving  shadow  on  the  scullery  floor  or 
on  the  patch  of  whitewashed  wall  opposite  to 
the  window.     There  was  none. 

"  It  casts  no  shadow,"  I  muttered. 

I  sat  for  some  minutes.  The  night  was  still 
with  the  stillness  of  windless  midsummer.  One 
could  actually  feel  the  silence  ;  it  impressed 
me  most  uncomfortably.  I  felt  for  my  pipe, 
filled  it,  and  lit  it  at  the  lamp  chimney.  The 
loneliness  was  dispelled  a  little,  and  I 
decided  I  could  not  go  to  bed  up  the  dark, 
old    staircase    and    along    a   moonlit   corridor 


I    STOLE   TO    THE    WINDOW    AGAIN 


without  solving  the   mystery  I  had   happened 
upon. 

"This  is  tomfoolery!"  I  cried,  as  I  dropped 
from  the  table  and  clattered  off  into  the  scullery, 
going  boldly  to  the  window  and  almost  thrusting 
my  nose  against  the  panes.  The  woman  was 
there,  and  she  stared  at  me  until  my  skin  was  all 
"goose-flesh." 

I  measured  her  up  and  down,  shivering  as  I 
did  so,  but  nothing  about  her  stirred,  and  with 
a  bit  of  a  gasp  I    retreated  for  the  last  time, 

slamming  and  lock- 
ing the  kitchen 
door. 

I  went  to  bed. 
The  next  morning 
I  was  down  early. 
and  went  at  once 
to  the  garden.  Every 
inch  of  the  ground 
around  the  door 
and  window  was 
carefully  investiga- 
ted. No  footmarks 
were  visible.  The 
soil  beneath  the 
window  was  quite 
soft  ;  my  slippers 
marked  it  easily. 
It  was  certain  that 
no  woman  could 
have  stood  there  the 
previous  night.  The 
mystery  had  sen- 
sibly deepened, 
I  liked  it  the 
for  that. 

During  the 
I  scanned  the  faces 
and  figures  of  the 
village  women  ;  not 
that  I  had  seen 
the  phantom's  I 
at  all  distinctly,  but 
I  had  a  vision  before 
my  eyes  of  a  pale, 
vacant  countenance,  and  I  felt  I  should  re- 
cognise its  likeness  anywhere.  The  figure  was 
buxom  and  broad-hipped,  and,  I  should  say. 
fairly  young.  I  saw  no  one,  however,  resem- 
bling the  mysterious  woman  who  had  frigidly 
stared  me  out  of  countenance  the  previous 
midnight.  I  was  disappointed  ;  my  tongue 
tingled  to  ask  questions,  but  I  refrained. 

Night  came  on  once  again.  My  house- 
hold retired  to  rest,  and  I  stayed  to  read  as 
before.  Needless  to  say,  I  scarcely  read  a  line. 
The  landscape  outside  was  bathed  in  soft  moon- 
light.    The  blinds  of  the  dining-room  windows 


and 
less 

day 


252 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


were  not  drawn,  and  I  wondered  whether  the 
spectre  would  come  round  and  look  in  upon  me 
from  the  lawn.  I  kept  a  wary  eye  open,  but 
saw  nothing. 

The  old  clock  in  the  corner  ticked  the 
minutes  solemnly  away.  Eleven  struck.  I  had 
been  sitting  alone  for  about  an  hour,  and  was 
beginning  to  feel  cold.  I  put  down  my  pipe, 
and  got  a  cigar  by  way  of  a  change.  Time 
went  slowly  and  heavily.  Glancing  at  the 
clock,  I  found  it  was  only  ten  minutes  past 
eleven.  Should  I  wait  on  until  that  "  witching 
hour  of  night  when 
churchyards  yawn," 
or  should  I  go  and 
see  whether  the 
phantom  was  freed 
before  midnight  ? 
After  a  few  minutes' 
cogitation  I  re- 
solved to  investi- 
gate at  once.  I 
took  up  the  lamp, 
crossed  the  hall, 
and  entered  the 
kitchen.  Putting 
down  the  light  I 
went  to  the  door 
leading  to  the  scul- 
lery ;  it  was  bolted 
this  time.  I  slip- 
ped the  bolt  noise- 
lessly, but  the  door 
was  old  and  heavy, 
and  creaked  a 
little  as  I  opened 
it. 

I  went  to  the 
window.  One 
hurried  glance  was 
sufficient.  The  ap- 
parition was  there, 
evidently  awaiting 
me,  for  I  fancied 
it  turned  its  head 
as  I  came  into 
view.  I  had  pre- 
pared    myself    for 

the  shock  of  seeing  the  uncanny  thing,  but  the 
sight  startled  me  nevertheless,  and  after  a 
moment  of  quaking  hesitation   I  retreated. 

"  What  on  earth  is  the  meaning  of  this  ?  "  I 
asked  myself.  And,  of  course,  I  could  give  no 
answer.  Had  anyone  else  ever  seen  the  thing, 
or  was  I  the  first  to  be  accorded  the  questionable 
privilege  ? 

The  wind  was  rising  outside  and  the  trees  on 
the  lawn  were  beginning  to  sigh  dismally.  This 
hardly  cheered  me  up.     I  began  to  wish  that  I 


"'now,'  said  i,  'here's  A  GH< 


had  mentioned  the  matter  to  my  brother-in-law 
and  got  him  to  come  down  and  keep  vigil  with 
me.  I  felt  that  the  only  thing  to  do  was  to 
persuade  someone  to  come  and  see  what  I  saw, 
and  then  we  could  discuss  the  thing  and  try  to 
get  to  the  bottom  of  it. 

Meanwhile,  what  should  I  do  ?  It  would 
hardly  further  matters  for  me  to  sit  on  the  end 
of  the  table  chewing  a  cold  cigar.  I  decided  to 
have  another  look.  I  stalked  out.  Ah  !  that 
was  decided  movement.  The  ghost  had  been 
bending     forward     to    the    window,     the     face 

almost  touching  the 
glass.  It  swung 
sharply  back  as  I 
approached  and 
stood  fixed  and 
staring.  I  held 
my  ground  this 
time,  and  we  in- 
vestigated one  an- 
other for  quite  a 
long  time.  Then 
I  walked  the  length 
of  the  scullery  and 
came  back,  never 
quite  losing  sight 
of  the  window. 
The  apparition  ap- 
peared to  move 
again.  Once  more 
I  faced  it.  Sud- 
denly I  was  startled 
by  a  new  fact ;  I 
could  perceive, 
dim  and  broken, 
the  objects  that 
lay  directly  behind 
the  ghost.  I  could 
see  through  it  ! 
N  a  t  u  r  a  1  1  y— or 
•  supernaturally — 
one  ought  to  see 
through  immaterial 
things,  but  I  won- 
dered that  I  had 
not  noticed  the 
spectre's  trans- 
parency before.  I  was  now  quite  decided 
that  I  was  face  to  face  with  a  spirit. 

Back  to  the  dining-room  I  went,  lamp  and  all. 
I  would  think  the  matter  out.  I  threw  away 
my  cigar,  got  another,  and  poured  out  a  whisky 
and  soda. 

"  Now,"  said  I,  "  here's  a  ghost.  I'm  sure  of 
so  much.  I  never  believed  in  them  before.  I 
do  now.  The  thing  is  beginning  to  take  very 
definite  notice  of  me.  It  has  waited  for  me  to- 
night and  carefully  watched  all  my  movements. 


ST.        I  M    SUKE    OF    SO    MUCH. 


THE    WOMAN    AT    THE    WINDOW 


253 


I  dare  swear  it's  peeping  through  the  scullery 
window  now.  Well,  all  the  doors  are  open  ;  it 
can  see  where  the  lamp  is.  Let  it  come  round 
the  house  and  have  a  look  at  me  here.  I'll  wait 
until  midnight." 

I  did ;  and  whilst  I  waited  I  pondered. 
Whose  was  this  wraith  ?  I  ticked  off  the  pros 
and  cons  on  my  fingers  : — 

Firstly,  it  is  a  woman's — a  young  woman's. 

Secondly,  the  figure  is  countrified  and  unlady- 
like. It  indicates  no  post-mortem  uneasiness  on 
the  part  of  a  lady  of  fashion. 

Thirdly,  it  persists  in  staring  in  through  the 
scullery  window  ;  it  haunts  the  kitchen  garden. 


I'd  have  another  look  at  the  phantom,  I 
decided,  and  then  go  to  bed.  To-morrow  I 
would  inquire  amongst  the  patriarchs  for  any 
legends  of  missing  servants,  and  my  brother-in- 
law  and  I  would  make  a  bold  attempt  to  clear 
up  the  whole  mystery. 

Lamp  in  hand,  I  went.  Yes,  she  was  still 
there,  and  seemed  agitated.  The  fascinating 
fixedness  of  the  previous  night  was  entirely 
gone.  It  seemed  to  me  that  she  knew  1  was 
helping  her.  "  I'm  on  the  right  track,"  I  said, 
confidently.  "  Let  me  but  have  a  companion 
to  stand  by  me  and  I'll  see  the  business 
through."     I    gave   a    reassuring  glance  at  the 


THE    MANOR-HOUSE    WHERE    THE    AUTHOR    WAS    STAYING    WHEN    HE   SAW    THE    MYSTERIOUS 

From  a  Photo. 


llnllAM    AT    THE    WINDOW. 


Yet  it  appears  to  want  me.  Only  I  have  seen 
it  !  Why  does  it  not  take  a  moonlight  pro- 
menade on  the  lawn  and  look  in  upon  me 
through  the  dining-room  casements  ? 

Thetefore,  the  wraith  probably  belongs  to  a 
servant-girl.  Some  tragedy  has  occurred  in  or 
near  the  scullery.  But  West  Littleton  has  no 
knowledge  of  any  such  crime  !  Therefore  it 
was  a  secret  one.  I  am  on  the  eve  of  a  sensa- 
tional discovery.  My  brother-in-law  shall  be 
consulted  the  first  thing  in  the  morning  ! 

My  mind  was  now  easier.  I  was  getting  to 
the  bottom  of  the  mystery.  Indeed,  although  I 
did  not  know  it,  I  was  destined  to  plumb  its 
lowest  depths  before  I  went  to  bed. 

Twelve  o'clock  struck  ! 


trembling     spectre,     went    into     the     kitchen, 
through  to  the  staircase,  and  up  to  bed. 

On  the  first  landing  I  paused.  I  fancied  that 
the  shivering  ghost  was  upbraiding  me  for  my 
departure  ;  the  wind  carried  its  cries  along  the 
corridor.  Acting  on  a  sudden  resolution,  I 
turned  and  went  down  again. 

I  placed  my  lamp  on  the  nearest  corner  of 
the  dresser  in  the  kitchen,  unfastened  the  door, 
and  went  into  the  scullery.  I  looked  through 
the  window.     The  ghost  was  gone  ! 

I  was  a  little  chagrined,  and  stood  close  to 
the  panes  scrutinizing  the  objects  in  the  garden. 
I  opened  the  door,  went  out,  stood  for  a 
moment,  and  then  dropped  on  my  knees  by  the 
window.     No  footmarks  ! 


254 


THE     WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


I  went  in.  Perhaps  the  phantom  would  come 
if  I  waited  ;  but  I  waited  in  vain. 

At  last,  as  I  looked  anxiously  through  the 
window,  a  thought  came  into  my  mind  that 
made  my  heart  leap.  "  No,"  I  muttered  ;  "  it 
can't  be  ! " 

I  fairly  raced  into  the  kitchen,  placed  the 
lamp  in  its  former  place  on  the  table,  and  ran 
back.     The  ghost  was  there  ! 

Open  came  the  door.  I  sprang  into  the 
garden  and  clutched— a  dwarf  plum  tree  ! 


the  two  lights — and  I  had  been  able  to  "see 
through"  my  "ghost"  owing  to  the  spaces 
between  the  branches.  The  "  movements "  I 
had  noticed  were  no  doubt  caused  by  the  wind. 
I  rated  myself  soundly  for  not  having  con- 
nected the  tree  with  the  apparition  before.  It 
so  happened,  however,  that  the  first  night  I  saw 
the  figure  was  on  the  occasion  of  practically  my 
first  trip  to  the  scullery ;  at  that  time  I  was  not 
aware  of  the  existence  of  the  tree.  I  might 
have  thought  of  it  on  the  second  night,  but  the 


[    SI'KANG    INTO   THE   GARDEN. 


Yes,  that  oddly-grown  thing  was  my  ghost ! 
The  light  from  my  lamp  shone  on  the  white- 
washed walls  of  the  scullery  and  was  reflected 
through  the  window  on  to  the  tree.  The  moon 
shone  on  it  from  the  other  side  over  the  roofs  of 
the  barns,  so  that  the  tree  was  draped  on  all 
sides  in  silvery  white.  Top  and  branches  gave 
head,  shoulders,  and  hips. 

The  lack  of  shadow  was  undoubtedly  ex- 
plained by  the  position   of  the  tree— between 


fact  remains  that  I  did  not;  the  reality  of  the 
thing  had  got  hold  of  me. 

To  relieve  my  feelings  I  shook  the  tree  until 
the  few  plums  it  held  dropped  with  soft  thuds 
to  the  ground.  Then  I  went  in,  locked  and 
bolted  the  doors,  had  a-  look  through  the 
window  at  the  still  trembling  apparition,  and 
went  to  bed  in  real  earnest. 

I  was  relieved.  I  was  also  disappointed. 
My  newly-born  belief  in  "  spooks  "  was  slain  ! 


Being    an     account    of    a    novel    contest     held    periodically    in    the    agricultural    centres    of    France, 
Valuable  prizes  are  awarded,  and    the  competitions  are  both  interesting  and  exciting. 


CROWD    of    some    five    thousand 
people — with  a   strong   preponder- 
ance of  the   male  sex  ;  the  greater 
number   very  voluble  and   excited. 
One  flock  of  sheep,  from  eighty  to 
ninety    sheep-dogs,    and   thirty-two    shepherds. 
A  horseshoe-shaped  course,  which  looks  as  if  it 
were  laid  out  for  a  simple  kind  of  obstacle  race, 
and  a  group  of  judges,  accompanied  by  several 
Government    officials,    all   obviously  impressed 
with  the  importance  of  the   occasion.     These 
were    the   principal   ingredi- 
ents— if  I  might  be  allowed 
to  use  such  a  term — which 
went    to  make   up  the   par- 
ticular   sheep-dog    competi- 
tion      held     at      Beauvais, 
which   is  illustrated   by  the 
pictures    accompanying  this 
article. 

As  competitions  of  this 
nature,  though  held  periodi- 
cally in  France,  are  unfor- 
tunately somewhat  rare 
occurrences  in  our  own 
agricultural  districts,  per- 
haps a  little  detailed  ex- 
planation of  their  origin  and 
object  may  prove  of  interest 
to  Wide  World  readers 
by  giving  an  insight  into  a 
very  praiseworthy  but  little- 
known  effort  which  is  being 
made,  amongst  farmers  and 
other  interested  persons, 
to  encourage  by  all  possible 
means  the  breeding  and 
training   of   reliable    sheep- 

j  THE    COURSE    ROUND    WHIG 

QOgS.  STEER    THEIR 


The  contests  are  annual  affairs  organized  by 
a  club  which  has  received  the  official  sanction 
of  the  Government.  It  is  known  as  the  Club 
Francais  du  Chien  de  Berger,  and  was  founded 
in  1896  by  a  committee  formed  by  M.  Emmanuel 
Boulet,  the  acting  president,  whose  energies 
have  been  largely  devoted  to  making  a  success 
of  the  movement.  In  addition  to  its  primary 
object,  the  club  is  also  designed  to  encourage 
kindness  among  the  men  who  are  entrusted  with 
the  task  of  looking  after  both  dogs  and  sheep. 
The  officials  endeavour  to 
organize  as  many  annual 
shows  as  possible  in  the 
various  agricultural  centres, 
and  the  membership  of  the 
club  is  open  to  almost  every- 
one, for  the  entrance  fee  is 
only  the  nominal  sum  of 
five  francs.  It  distributes 
suitable  letterpress,  with  en- 
gravings illustrating  the  best 
breeds  of  dogs,  and  giving 
much  valuable  information 
in  order  to  familiarize  shep- 
herds and  farmers  with  the 
dog  most  suitable  for  the 
purpose. 

The  particular  contest  re- 
ferred to  in  the  opening 
paragraph  as  having  taken 
place  at  Beauvais  is  a  typical 
example  of  what  these  com- 
petitions are  like  at  the 
present  time.  In  the  centre 
of  an  agricultural  district, 
some  fifty-four  miles  from 
Paris,  the  town  of  Beauvais 
was   easy  of  access    to   the 


II     THE     DOGS     HAVE    TO 

ClIAki.ES. 


250 


THE     WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


large  number  of  enthusiasts  who  have  by  the 
efforts  of  the  club  become  keenly  interested, 
and  whose  ardour  may  be  gathered  from  the 
fact  that  most  of  them  were  there  in  time  for 
the  commencement  of  proceedings  at  nine 
o'clock  in  the  morning. 

The  principal  event  of  the  day,  of  course,  is 
the  sheepdog  trial  proper.  In  this  the  work  of 
the  dog  consists  in  conducting  a  flock  of  twenty- 
five  sheep  round  a  horseshoe-shaped  course, 
some  nine  hundred  and  eighty  feet  long  and 
nineteen  feet  wide,  by  starting  from  one  pen 
and  working  round  the  course  to  another. 
The  facsimile  on  the  preceding  page  clearly  ex- 
plains what  has  to  be  done.  Starting  from  the 
pen  marked  (i)  the  flock  has  to  be  conducted 
through  the  enclosure  (2)  to  another  pen  (3). 
From  here  the  sheep  are  let  out  through  a 
wattle  (C)  upon  the  track  (4),  which  has  been 
marked  out  by  means  of  plough  furrows. 

The  work  of  the  dog  consists  in  keeping  the 
flock  inside  the  track  and  in  driving  them 
onwards  round  the  course.  The  first  difficult 
obstacle  encountered  is  a  dry  ditch  (8),  and  after 
getting  the  flock  over  this — which  usually 
requires  intelligent  manoeuvring  by 
the  dogs — they  are  persuaded  on- 
ward to  a  V-shaped  ditch  (9).  Here 
again  the  dog's  sagacity  is  shown  in 
a  marvellous  manner,  for,  neglecting 
the  others,  he  concentrates  the 
whole  of  his  energies  on  the 
leader  of  the  flock  ;  once  get  him 
through,  and  the  dog  knows  the 
others  will  meekly  follow. 

The    last    obstacle    (10)    is    a 
mound   of   earth,  and    when    this 
has     been     safely    traversed     the 
sheep  are  driven  on  to  (D)  another 
wattle.       Guiding    them     through 
this   and   into  the  arrival   pen  (5) 
the    dog's    task    is  nearly    done,    for 
there     is    only    the    final    enclosure, 
some   one  hundred  and   thirty   feet 
long  (6),  for  the  sheep  to  go  through, 
and  so  reach   at   last   the   large -pen 
(7).     In  accordance  with    the   rules 
the  dogs  are  required  not  to  allow 
the  sheep   to  stray  from    the   track, 
and    they  may  not    bite    the   sheep 
on  the  neck,   the  ear,   the  fore-feet, 
the    stomach,    nor    deeply   on    the 
thigh.       In    addition,    they    are    not 
even  allowed  to  bark. 

Thirty-two  shepherds  entered  for 
the  Beauvais  contest,  and  by  the  rules 
were  allowed  two  dogs  each.  Some, 
however,  elected  to  have  only  one, 
and,  of  course,  gain  additional  credit     Froma\ 


if  successful.  These  sheep-dogs,  by-the-bye, 
are  of  two  particular  breeds,  one  known  as 
the  Brie  and  the  other  as  the  Beauce.  The 
first-named  have  long  woolly  grey  hair,  and 
are  remarkable  for  the  intelligent  look  they  all 
seem  to  possess.  The  latter  are,  however,  very 
striking-looking  dogs,  with  their  short  coats, 
long  lithe  bodies,  and  fox-like  step.  One  can 
get  a  very  good  idea  of  what  they  are  like  from 
the  accompanying  photographs. 

Each  dog  is  first  of  all  examined  by  a  veterin- 
ary surgeon,  who  certifies  to  the  health  of  each 
animal  before  it  is  allowed  to  take  part  in  the 
contest.  Directly  after  each  shepherd  has  to 
draw  a  number,  which  is  his  distinguishing 
badge  for  the  rest  of  the  day.  The  number  is 
fixed  on  a  brass  plate,  fastened,  as  will  be  seen 
in  the  photographs,  on  the  left  arm  of  the 
competitor. 

The  interest  taken  in  the  competitions  held 
at  Beauvais  was  so  great  that  all  accessories 
necessary  for  the  contest  were  supplied  free  of 
charge  by  the  gentlemen,  farmers,  and  trades- 
people of  the  surrounding  districts.  This  desire 
to  help  was  even  extended  to  the  gratuitous 
loan  of  the  tents,  chairs,  and  tables — every- 
thing, in  fact,  which  could  add  to  the  comfort 
of  the  visitors  and  those  directly  connected  with 


COMPETING    SHEPHERDS    WAITING    KOU    THEIR    TURNS. 


{Photo. 


A    FRENCH    SHEEP-DOG    COMPETITION. 


257 


calls  his  flock  to  assemble  for  the  start,  and 
the  sheep  are  let  loose  from  the  departure 
pen.  Glad  to  escape  from  con- 
fined quarters,  they  scramble  up 
the  enclosure  and  through  the 
wattle  on  to  the  track,  where  the 
dog  is  ready  to  guide  them  round. 

The  start  is  sometimes  a  capital 
one,  but  not  always.     If  the  start  is 
a  bad  one,    the   shepherd,   holdii 
one  sheep,  will  have  to  call  the  r< 
mainder  of  the  flock  back  to  him. 
The  judges,  note-book   and   pencil 
in    hand,    take   note  of  every  little 
happening,  and    in    such  an   event 
have  to  record  a  fault  against  the 
shepherd.        Guided,     and     almost 
pushed    along,    by   the    intelligent 
dog,  the  sheep  make  their  way  along 
the   curve.      They   try    to   break 
away,    but    the    dog    knows    his 
business,     and     they     are    soon 
herded  together  again.      A   par- 
ticularly  obedient    and    well-disci- 
plined flock,  as  shown  in  one  of  the 
photographs,     steadily    pursues    its 
way  until  reaching  the  ditch. 


the  contest.     The  track  was  speci- 
ally  prepared    by   one    gentleman, 
whilst  the  various  regulation  ditches 
and  hedges  were  superintended  by 
a  well-known   professor  of  agricul- 
ture.    There    were    no    fewer    than 
thirty    agricultural   enthusiasts    who 
threw    themselves    into    the    work, 
and    much    of   the  success  of  the 
meeting   was    due   to   their    efforts. 
As    stated,    no    fewer    than    thirty 
two  shepherds  went  through  the 
ordeal  of    taking    their   flocks 
round     the    course,     and     al- 
though during  the  proceedings 
a  tremendous  storm  took  place 
the   contest   was    proceeded 
with,  and    it  says   much   for 
its  attraction  that  almost  all 
the  people  braved  the  storm 
to  see  the  finish. 

Our  first  photo,  shows 
the  shepherds,  each  with  a 
badge  affixed  to  his  arm, 
waiting  their  turn  to  take 
part  in  the  competition.  A 
number  is  called  out  by  the 
judges,  and  the  bearer  of  it 
steps  out  from  the  laughing 
and  excited  crowd,  with  his 
dog  in  the  leash.     He  then 

Vol.  xiv. — 33. 


Here  again,  perhaps,  there  is  a 
desire  to  scatter,  and  the  leader 
hesitates,  undecided  what  to  do ; 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


hut  the  canine  guide  decides. 
He  will  not  let  them  turn 
back  or  falter  ;  so,  making  a  virtue  of  necessity, 
the  leading  sheep  passes  over  it,  obediently 
followed  by  his  two  dozen  companions.  At 
this  point  a  close  watch  is  kept  by  the  judges, 
for  the  rules  forbid  that  the  dog  should 
bite  or  mutilate  or  bark  at  them,  a  thing 
he  is  sometimes  tempted  to  do  in  his 
anxiety  to  get  them  over.  On  and  round 
they  go,  and  are  soon  cleverly  manoeuvred 
through  the  V-shaped  passage,  to  the 
delight  of  the  eager  spectators.  Journey- 
ing round  the  bend  of  the  horseshoe, 
the  sheep  reach  the  embankment,  con- 
sisting of  a  mound  of  earth,  and  here 
again  they  want  to  scatter,  until  steadied 
by  the  sagacious  dog. 

There  now  remains  the  finish  of  the 
contest,  and,  keeping  the  sheep  within 
the  furrows,  the  dog  guides  them  to  the 
last  wattle.  He  stands  patiently  by  as, 
following  their  leader  through,  the  flock 
scampers  down  the  enclosure  into  the 
arrival  pen.  As  each  shepherd  com- 
pletes his  task  the  enthusiasm  of  the 
expert  onlookers  finds  vent  in  excited 
plaudits,  regulated  by  the  degree  of  ex- 
cellence displayed  by  each  competitor. 
They  are  honest,  simple  fellows,  these 
shepherds,  and  it  is  rather  amusing  at 
times  to  see  their  confusion  when  a 
round   of    applause    bursts    from    the 


spectators  at  some  particularly 
good  effort. 

There  are  ten  prizes  for  the 
sheep-dog  competition,  and  the 
shepherds  with  their  dogs  re- 
strict themselves  to  the  space 
reserved  for  them,  anxiously 
awaiting  the  judges'  awards. 
The  first  prize  consists  of  a 
hundred  francs  in  money,  a 
diploma  from  the  society,  and 
an  objet  d'art  of  Sevres  china 
presented  by  the  President  of 
the  French  Republic.  There 
are  nine  other  money  prizes 
and  diplomas,  as  well  as  a 
number  of  bronze  medals. 

A  large  number  of  prizes  are 
also  awarded  for  the  best  dogs 
of  both  the  Brie  and  Beauce 
breeds,  for  drovers'  dogs  which 
are  the  best  at  driving  cattle, 
and  finally  "long  service" 
prizes  for  shepherds  who  have 
been  with  one  master  for  the 
longest  term  of  years. 
The  final  event  of  the  day  at  Beauvais,  and 
the  most  exciting  from  one  point  of  view,  was 
the  distribution  of  the  prizes  among  the  bashful 
but  happy  shepherds.  There  was  one  very  pretty 
incident.  A  little  shepherdess  who  had  won  a 
prize  in  one  of  the  events  came  to  claim  it,  and 


A    FRENCH    SHEEP-DOG    COMPETITION. 


259 


the  president  gallantly  embraced  her,  amidst  the 
delighted  applause  of  the  whole  gathering. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  features  was  the 
distribution  of  the  prizes  for  long  service  to 
shepherds.  Notable  amongst  these  was  L.  G. 
Bocquet,  who  had  served  his  master  faithfully 
for  fifty-seven  years  con- 
tinuously ;  he  received 
an  enamel  medal,  which 
was  offered  by  the  pre- 
fect of  the  De- 
partment in  the 
name  of  the 
people.  An- 
other  shep- 
herd, A.  L. 
Lionnet,  who 
had  served  his 
master  for 
forty-five  years, 
had  been  a 
winner  in  a 
contest  held  in 
1884,  and  dis- 
t  i  ng  u  i  s  h  ed 
himself  in  the 
war  of  1870 
by  driving  his 
flock  away 
from  the  ene- 
my, through 
very  open 
country,  and 
back  into  the 
French  lines 
without  los- 
ing a  single  . 
sheep.  Eion-  ^Of}r 
net  was  pre-  <_j) 
sented  with 
a  splendid 
medal  by  the 
Agricultural 

Institute  of  Beauvais.  Among  the 
other  men  who  were  presented  with 
special  awards  were  S.  A.  Desparest, 
forty  years'  continuous  service,  and 
E.  Patte,  who  had  served  for  thirty-seven 
years.     It    may  be   added    that  no  fewer  than 


nineteen  other  shepherds  had  service  records 
varying  from  thirty-three  to  sixteen  years. 
An  interesting  group  of  these  men  is  here 
given,  every  one  of  whom  has  served  his 
master  for  thirty  years  or  more.  M.  Boulet, 
the  president  of  the  society,  can  be  seen 
standing  directly  beneath  the  flags  in  the 
background. 

It    may   be     interesting    to 


men. 


Cauchy 


i 


note  that  one 
by  name,  con- 
t  r  o 1 s  his 
flock  entirely 
by  means  of 
certain  notes 
played  on 
h  i  s  flageo- 
let !  A  bronze 
medal  was 
given  hi  m 
for  the  novel 
way  in  which 
he  conducted 
his  flock. 

Whilst  these 
prizes  were 
being  given  it 
trans  pired, 
through  one  of 
the  spectators, 
that  there  was 
an  old  shep- 
herd of  ninety- 
one  still  liv- 
ing at  Main- 
neville,  in  the 
Depar  t  ment 
of  Eure,  who 
has  been  a 
shepherd  for 
no  less  than 
eighty-  three 
years,  serving 
his  last  em- 
ployer for 
forty  years ! 
Longevity  is  evidently  common  among  shep- 
herds, and  the  healthy  outdoor  life  which 
they  lead  must  undoubtedly  be  conducive 
to  old  age. 


THE  LONG-SERVICE  COMPETITORS 
— EVERY  MAN  IN  THIS  GROUP  HAS 
SERVED  HIS  MASTER  FOR  THIRTY 
YEARS  OR  MORE.  THE  WINNING 
MAN  HAD  A  RECORD  OF  FIFTY- 
SEVEN  YEARS'  CONTINUOUS 
SERVICE  ! 

From  a  Photo. 


fc 


LlEL 


By  William  Daniels,  Petty  Officer,  Royal  Navy. 

A  sailor's  unvarnished  account  of  a  thrilling  adventure  with  murderous  "land-sharks"  on  the 
coast  of  Greece.  Only  the  nimbleness  and  ready  wit  of  the  bluejacket  enabled  him  to  evade  his 
assailants  and  save  his  life.     The  incident  forms  a  graphic  illustration  of  the  many  dangers  which 

menace  the  life  of  Jack  ashore. 


RIEF  accounts  of  the  following 
experience — which  is  now  given  for 
the  first  time  in  a  strictly  truthful 
form — appeared,  at  the  time  of  its 
occurrence,  in  most  of  the  news- 
papers, but  in  no  instance  were  the  details 
correctly  stated.  I  therefore  avail  myself  gladly 
of  the  editor's  invitation  to  place  before  the 
readers  of  The  Wide  World  Magazine  a 
correct  version  of  my  exciting  adventure. 

On  the  arrival  of  the  Mediterranean  Fleet  at 
Corfu  on  the  19th  of  March  last,  the  Admiral 
signalled:  "Twenty-four  hours'  general  leave  by 
watches,  to  commence  on  Monday,  the  21st,  at 
seven  a.m."  Accordingly,  about  one  p.m.  on 
Monday  I  proceeded  on  shore  in  order  to  spend 
the  remainder  of  the  leave  as  pleasantly  as 
possible  in  a  little  sight-seeing.  After  having  a 
hasty  look  round  the  town  I  paid  a  visit  to  the 
palace  of  the  Austrian  Emperor,  which  I  had 
heard  contained  some  especially  fine  statues, 
and  then  went  back  into  the  town  and  rambled 
about  aimlessly  for  hours,  going  practically 
everywhere. 

Then,  as  it  was  getting  rather  late,  I  thought 
it  advisable  to  seek  a  lodging  for  the  night.  I 
made  several  inquiries,  but  failed  to  find  what 
I  wanted,  and  therefore  decided  to  return  to  my 
ship,  H.M.S.  Intrepid. 

It  was  about  a  quarter-past  twelve  when  I  got 


down  to  the  quay,  where  I  found  some  dozens 
of  Greek  and  Italian  boatmen,  all  clamouring 
for  a  fare.  I  selected  a  boat  in  charge  of  two 
Greeks,  and,  jumping  in,  told  them  to  pull  to 
the  Intrepid.  As  these  two  men  play  a  some- 
what important  part  in  what  follows,  I  ought 
perhaps  to  describe  them.  One,  then,  was 
tall,  about  five  feet  ten  inches,  I  should  think, 
and  the  other  about  five  feet  six  inches,  both 
very  muscular  men,  with  tanned  and  by  no 
means  inviting  faces.  One  had  a  big  dark 
moustache,  but  the  other  was  clean-shaven,  with 
a  hang-dog  mouth,  heavy  brows,  and  shifty  eyes. 
They  were  dressed  in  rather  loose,  baggy 
trousers  and  open-fronted  shirts  ;  both  carried 
knives  in  their  hip-pockets. 

I  did  not  take  much  heed  of  their  appearance 
at  the  time,  being  somewhat  tired  and  desirous 
of  getting  back  to  my  bunk. 

We  shoved  off  from  the  shore,  the  two  boat- 
men rowing.  It  was  a  fine,  clear  night,  the  air 
being  keen.  On  getting  outside  the  small 
breakwater  I  put  my  hand  into  the  pocket  of 
my  jumper,  where  I  kept  my  cash,  and  took  out 
a  handful  of  loose  silver,  in  order  to  get  the 
money  with  which  to  pay  the  boatmen.  As  I 
did  so  I  caught  sight  of  the  latter  looking  at  me 
rather  intently,  but  did  not  at  the  moment  attach 
any  importance  to  it.  Eeaning  back  in  the  stern 
of  the    boat,    lazily  contemplating   the    hills  in 


IN    DEADLY    PERIL. 


261 


the  distance,  I  was  suddenly  brought  to  my 
bearings  by  seeing  the  two  boatmen  smartly 
unship  their  oars.  Then,  just  as  smartly,  each 
man  drew  a  knife.  Quick  as  thought  they  leapt 
into  the  stern  of  the  boat,  and  raising  their 
knives  above  my  breast,  as  if  about  to  strike, 
demanded  my  money  in  broken  English  !  The 
whole  thing  happened  so  swiftly  that  for  the 
moment  I  was  completely  dumfounded,  and 
could  not  properly  realize  what  had  really 
happened.      No    doubt 


half 
and 
side 
into 
my 


his 

my 

rifle 

the 

had 

the 

this 

I  sat 

offering 


this    was   part    of    their 
villainous    design  —  to 
take  me  absolutely  un- 
awares,   before    I    had 
time   to  defend  myself. 
The  bigger  one  of   the 
two     men,    placing 
dagger     close     to 
bieast,    began    to 
my  jumper  -  pocket 
one  from  which  he 
seen     me     take 
money.        During 
unpleasant  process 
perfectly  quiet 
no  sort  of  resistance— 
that    was    impossible— 
although     my    thoughts 
were     very     busy.       I 
realized  that  I  had  two 
desperate    criminals    to 
deal  with,  and  I  turned 
over    in    my    mind    the 
probable   course  events 
would   take.     This   was 
the  situation  as  it   pre- 
sented    itself    to     me. 
'I  he  men,  I  knew,  would 
not    dare    to    land    me 
alongside   the   Intrepid, 
for    fear   that   I    should 
have     them     detained. 
Furthermore,  they 
could  not  put  me  ashore, 
because  discovery  would 
be  equally   sure    there, 
and  we  should  probably 
come  across  some  of  my  shipmates, 
then,    they   meant    to    kill    me    and 


more  even.  Thus,  while  he  had  his  back 
turned  towards  me,  I  leapt  to  my  feet 
struck  the  big  man  a  severe  blow  on  the 
of  the  face,  knocking  him  off  his  feet 
the  bottom  of  the  boat.  Then  I  turned 
attention  to  the  other  man.  As  I  made  for  him 
he  thrust  his  knife  savagely  at  my  stomach,  the 
spot  for  which  ruffians  of  this  class  invariably 
aim.  I  caught  the  weapon  with  my  left  hand, 
but,    unfortunately    for    myself,    by    the    blade. 

With  my  disengaged 
right  hand  I  fought  hard 
to  get  possession  of  the 
knife,  which  would  have 
put  me  on  better  fight- 
ing terms  with  the 
scoundrels.  The  boat 
rocked  violently  with 
our  quick  movements, 
and,  to  make  matters 
worse,  the  man  I  had 
knocked  down  had  re- 
covered himself  and  was 
now  striving  to  aid  his 
comrade.  Backwards 
and  forwards  we  lurched, 
this  way  and  that,  and 
during  this  terrible 
struggle  the  knife-blade 
cut  deep  into  my  hand. 
I  could  feel  the  blood 
running  from  my  hand 
down  my  arm.  But  I 
fought  on  desperately, 
and  was  at  last  gratified 
to  discover  that  my 
oppenent  was  giving  in 
from  weakness.  By  this 
time,  however,  the  other 
pirate  had  managed  to 
rise  and  thrust  at  me 
viciously  with  his  knife. 
With  my  right  hand  I 
the    knife,    en- 


OFKICER     WILLIAM     DANIF.LS,    ROVAL     NAVY,    WHO     HERE 
RELATES    HIS   TERRIBLE   EXPERIENCE. 

From   a   Photo,    by  King  &■>  Co.,   Landport, 


caught 
deavouring 


Evidently, 
dispose  of 
my  body.     Desperate  measures,  it  was  evident, 
were  necessary  if  I  wished  to  save  my  life. 

Having  secured  my  money  from  the  pocket, 
which  was  on  the  left  breast  of  my  jumper,  the 
tall  boatman  turned  to  his  companion  and  said 
something  in  Greek,  which  of  course  I  could 
not  understand.  I  determined,  however,  to  take 
this  opportunity  of  trying  to  rid  myself  of  one  at 
least  of  my  assailants,  and  so  make  the  contest 


from   him. 
ever,  I  was 
do,    as    the 
my    head    and 


to  wrest  it 
This,  how- 
not  able  to 
pair  were 
blows  on  to  my  head  and  neck  with 
their  hands,  while,  clinging  desperately  to  the 
two  knives,  I  kept  my  head  bent  to  save  my 
face,  fighting  with  my  feet  and  head  as  well  as  I 
possibly  could. 

It  was  no  good,  however,  for  the  knife  in 
my  right  hand  also  began  to  cut  from  the 
wrenching  motion,  and,  losing  my  hold  on 
the  two  weapons,  I  fell  back  exhausted. 
Thereupon  both  the  men  seized  me,  trying  to 
batter  my  head  on   the  stern  of  the  boat,  but  I 


262 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


prevented  this  by  thrusting  my  neck  -  forward 
and  keeping  it  stiff,  receiving  the  blows  on  my 
shoulders.  One  of  the  ruffians  made  a  thrust 
at  my  body,  the  point  of  the  knife  penetrating 
my  jumper  and  my  jersey,  but  a  quick  backward 
movement  saved  me  from  receiving  further 
damage.  As  I  lay  quite  still,  however,  utterly 
exhausted,  they  no  doubt  concluded  that  the 
last  blow  had  done  its  deadly  work,  for  they 
promptly  seized  me  by  the  head  and  heels  and 
dropped  me  into  the  water. 


nearer  than  those  of  the  Intrepid,  so  I  struck 
out  boldly  for  land.  I  also  observed  with  a 
sinking  heart  that  my  would-be  assassins  had 
awakened  to  the  fact  that  I  was  not  yet  settled 
with,  and  were  making  towards  me.  One  of 
the  perils  I  had  feared,  therefore,  was  not  long 
in  presenting  itself  in  a  tangible  form.  The  two 
men  were  rowing  towards  me  with  their  faces 
towards  the  bows  of  the  boat,  so  that  they 
could  keep  me  in  sight,  and  were  evidently 
determined  to  run   the   boat  against  my  head 


THEY    DROPPED    MP:    INTO   THE    WATER. 


I  was  rather  weak  from  loss  of  blood,  and 
when  I  went  overboard  I  sank  a  good  way 
down.  The  cold  water  soon  revived  me,  and  in 
a  flash  I  realized  that  at  last  I  had  a  slight 
chance  of  escape.  It  was  slight  indeed,  for  I 
might  be  overtaken  by  my  murderous  assailants 
and  dispatched,  or — and  as  this  peril  dawned 
upon  me  I  shuddered  violently — I  might  be 
attacked  by  the  sharks  with  which  the  surround- 
ing waters  were  infested  !  But  drowning  men 
will  catch  even  at  straws,  and  I  determined  to 
make  a  desperate  bid  for  life. 

Rising  to  the  surface  I  gazed  swiftly  about 
me.     I  noticed  that  the  lights  on  shore  seemed 


This  they  would  unquestionably  have  succeeded 
in  doing  had  I  not  thought  of  a  way  to 
outwit  them.  As  the  boat  darted  towards  me 
I  sent  up  a  lusty  yell  for  help  and  then  sank 
out  of  sight,  the  craft  passing  over  me.  I  then 
swam  as  far  as  I  could  under  water,  rising  again 
to  the  surface  to  get  breath,  and  repeating  my 
cries  for  help. 

This  I  did  several  times,  each  time  evading 
the  boat  and  getting  nearer  and  nearer  to 
the  shore,  until  at  length  I  lost  sight  of 
the  pirates  and  began  to  think  I  was  safe.  I 
ceased  to  cry  further  for  assistance,  and  struck 
out  with  all   my  might  for  tha  land,  keeping  as 


IN    DEADLY    PERIL. 


263 


THEY    WERE    EVIDENTLY    DETERMINED    TO    RUN    THE    BOAT    AGAINST    MY    HEAD.' 


quiet  as  possible  for  fear  of  putting  the  rascals 
on  to  my  trail  again. 

I  had  got  almost  two-thirds  of  the  way  to 
the  shore,  and  was  congratulating  myself  on 
having  escaped  at  last  from  a  very  dangerous 
situation,  when  the  boatmen  again  caught  sight 
of  me  and  rowed  frantically  towards  me,  deter- 
mined, no  doubt,  to  finish  me  once  for  all. 
Once  more,  however,  I  was  successful  in  evading 
them  by  sinking.  By  this  time  I  was  feeling 
very  faint  and  exhausted,  for  the  weight  of 
my  boots  and  clothes  began  to  tell  heavily 
upon  me. 

However,  I  continued  to  make  what  headway 
I  could  towards  the  shore,  yelling  with  all  the 
strength  I  could  command.  Turning  my  head 
and  looking  behind  me,  I  was  overjoyed  to  dis- 
cover that  my  assailants  had  apparently  given 
up  the  chase,  for  they  were  nowhere  to  be  seen, 
and  were  probably  seeking  safety  in  flight.  This 
gave  me  renewed  courage,  although  my  strength 
was  so  far  spent  that  I  felt  that  I  could  not 
hope  to  win  the  shore  without  some  sort  of 
assistance. 

Gazing  ahead — hoping  against  hope  that  help 
would  come  to  me  ere  I  was  forced  to  give  up 
the  struggle— I  was  at  length  gratified  to  per- 
ceive the  welcome  lights  of  some  boats  coming 
out  from  behind  the  breakwater  to  my  rescue. 
•  My  cries  had  been  heard  at  last  !  By  this  time 
T  was  barely  able  to  keep  my  head  above  water, 
and  one  of  the  boats,  probably  guessing   that   I 


was  in  desperate  strait-,  pulled  away  from  the 
rest  and  very  quickly  came  up  alongside  me 
They  soon  had  me  on  board,  where  I  sank 
back  exhausted.  I  dimly  heard  their  exclama- 
tions of  astonishment  at  my  condition  and  their 
sympathetic  observation,  "  He's  had  a  rough 
time  of  it ! "  and  then  I  lost  consciousness. 

Arrived  on  shore  I  found  some  of  my  ship 
mates  and  told  them  briefly  what  had  happened. 
They  at  once  hurried  me  to  the  doctor,  who 
dressed  my  wounded  hands  and  ordered  me  to 
change  my  clothes  and  go  to  bed  immediately. 
This  I  did,  returning  to  the  Intrepid  in  the 
morning. 

It  was  the  police-doctor  who  dressed  my 
wounds,  and  while  he  was  thus  engaged  I  told 
him  the  story  of  my  adventure,  giving  as  full 
and  faithful  a  description  of  the  men  who  had 
attacked  me  as  I  could,  with  the  result  that  the 
police  went  in  active  search  of  them.  They 
at  length  arrested  two  men,  and  a  few  days 
later  I  was  confronted  with  them.  I  failed  to 
recognise  them  as  my  assailants,  however,  and 
they  were  released.  I  regret  to  say  that  the 
real   culprits,   so  far,    have   not   been   captured. 

I  hope  that  my  experience  with  these  vil- 
lainous "land-sharks"  will  act  as  a  warning 
to  other  sailors  who  have  occasion  to  go 
ashore  at  Corfu.  But  for  a  combination  of 
fortuitous  circumstances  I  should  undoubtedly 
have  been  murdered,  and  my  fate  would 
probably  have  remained  an  unsolved  mystery. 


The  thrilling  experiences  which  befell  a  "  spotter,"  or  United  States  Revenue  detective,  while  endea- 
vouring to  unearth  a  gang  of  illicit  whisky  distillers  in  the  mountains  of  Kentucky. 


I. 


ORTY  years  ago— up  to  a  certain 
day — I  had  a  great  opinion  of  my 
own  shrewdness ;  I  firmly  believed 
I  was  about  the  smartest  young  man 
in  the  detective  line  there  was  in  all 
Uncle  Sam's  enormous  Revenue  Service.  Then 
I  had  the  experience  I  am  going  to  tell  about 
here — since  which  I  have  given  myself  a  new 
rating  ;  and  the  reason  for  this  will  be  perfectly 
obvious  when  my  story  has  been  read. 

At  that  time  I  was  stationed  in  Louisville, 
Kentucky,  from  which  place  I  was  frequently 
sent  into  the  outlying  country  districts  to  ferret 
out  illegal  liquor-makers  and  raid  illicit  stills.  I 
had  men  to  help  me  in  the  latter  work,  of 
course ;  but  I  was  the  chief  "  spotter,"  as 
Revenue  detectives  are  called. 

As  everybody  nowadays  knows,  the  men  who 
tried  to  brew  and  traffic  in  their  own  whisky, 
and  at  the  same  time  dispense  with  the  formality 
of  paying  Uncle  Sam's  tax  on  their  product, 
were  called  "  Moonshiners,"  because  they  plied 
their  trade  secretly,  in  out-of-the-way  hiding- 
places,  figuratively  "  by  the  light  of  the  moon." 

There  was  an  especially  bad  band  of  these 
fellows  at  the  time  known  to  be  doing  business 
in  the   Green   River  hills,    down   in   the  south- 


western part  of  the  State.  This  gang  had  held 
sway  there  for  years,  in  spite  of  all  efforts  to  dis- 
lodge them.  There  was  nothing  strange  about 
this,  as  all  the  natives  in  the  section  either 
sympathized  with  them  or  were  completely 
terrorized  by  them,  and  threw  every  obstacle 
they  possibly  could  in  the  way  of  the  Revenue 
men  who  came  down  with  the  intention  of 
raiding  the  gang.  Several  "spotters"  and  a 
score  of  deputies  had  lost  their  lives  in  these 
attempts  before  my  time  ;  butabout  once  every 
year  a  fresh  trial  would  be  made  and  a  fresh 
failure  scored. 

I  had  been  about  eight  months  in  my 
Kentucky  berth  (it  being  then  August,  1863), 
during  which  period  I  had  been  doing  some 
pretty  successful  work  in  locating  and  capturing 
stills  in  the  adjacent  counties,  when  I  one  day 
got  orders  from  the  Collector,  my  superior 
officer,  to  swear  in  ten  deputies,  being  careful  to 
pick  good  men,  and  start  immediately  for  the 
Green  River  country. 

It  was  war  time  then,  and  it  seemed  that  so 
great  a  demand  had  arisen  among  the  soldiers 
passing  through  the  country  for  the  contraband 
liquor  that  the  Moonshiners — particularly  the 
Green  River  fellows — had  become  more  active 


THE    MOONSHINERS. 


*S 


than  ever  before,  and  were  turning  out  such 
vast  quantities  of  the  fiery  stuff  that  the  legalized 
distillers  of  the  State  had  made  a  complaint  to 
the  Interior  Department  that  the  unfair  competi- 
tion threatened  to  drive  them  out  of  the  business. 

I  was  given  a  free  hand  as  to  how  I  should 
handle  the  affair,  and,  being  young  and  am- 
bitious—  and  a  bit  conceited,  as  I  have  said 
before — I  lost  no  time  in  selecting  my  men  and 
starting  south  by  train,  firmly  confident  that  by 
a  little  of  my  superior  strategy  and  the  working 
out  of  a  plan  I  had  in  mind  I  should  have 
slight  trouble  in   bagging  my  game. 

There  was  nothing  particularly  original  about 
this  plan  of  mine,  it  being  almost  the  same  one 
as  my  predecessors  had  tried,  but  not  quite. 
The  secret  stills  in  the  Green  River  section 
were  known  to  be  generally  hidden  in  caves 
somewhere  in  the  so  -  called 
"  mountains."  It  had  been 
necessary,  naturally,  for  the 
Revenue  men  to  first  locate 
the  entrance  to  the  right  cave 
(the  hills  being  fairly  honey- 
combed with  them),  after  which 
a  quick  "  rush "  had  been  de- 
pended on  to  capture  the  works. 
My  predecessors  had,  however, 
done  their  "  locating "  work 
openly  and  without  effort  to 
conceal  their  intentions.  There 
had  been  nopreliminary  strategy. 
As  a  result,  of  course,  they  had 
found  the  Moonshiners  either 
prepared  for  them  and  ready 
to  give  battle,  or  they  had 
found  the  birds  flown. 

But  now  as  to  my  plan.  I, 
too,  would  be  compelled,  to  be 
sure,  to  locate  the  proper  cave 
before  I  could  expect  to  do  any  raiding.  The 
rascals  never  used  the  same  cave  two  seasons  in 
succession,  I  knew,  so  that  nothing  learned  con- 
cerning an  earlier  rendezvous  of  the  gang  would 
avail  me  anything.  Instead,  however,  of  form- 
ing my  men  into  a  compact  posse  and  going 
poking  around  in  broad  daylight  through  the 
thick  timber  with  which  the  hillsides  were 
covered,  trying  to  find  it,  or  making  live  targets 
of  my  men  and  myself  in  a  night  search,  when 
the  Moonshiners  kept  armed  guards  out,  I 
proposed  to  halt  my  men  at  a  considerable 
distance  from  the  suspected  hills  and  then 
disperse  them  in  pairs  through  the  timber 
within  a  specified  radius,  as  though  they  were 
innocent  squirrel-hunters. 

We  would  be  armed  with  double-barrelled 
shot-guns,  with  shot  in  them  of  a  calibre  better 
suited  for  emergencies  than   for  squirrels.      My 

Vol.  xiv.— 34. 


MK.    KUFUS   COBIi,  WHO    HERE    RELATES    HIS 

THRILLING      EXPERIENCES     AS      A     UNITED 
STATES    REVENUE    DETECTIVE. 

From  a  Photo. 


men's  instructions  would  be  to  keep  their  eyes 
open  for  cave-entrances  showing  signs  of  recent 
inhabitants,  for  "  sunk  cabins,"  or  "  dug-outs," 
which  might  hide  secret  stills,  and  for  any 
other  suspicious  indications.  In  the  event  of 
any  important  discovery,  they  were  to  promptly 
retreat  to  a  safe  distance  and  call  in  the  rest  of 
us  by  imitating  the  "caw  "  of  a  crow,  six  'times 
repeated. 

It  should  be  understood  that  the  Moonshiners 
lived  in  these  caves,  or  wherever  it  was  they 
canied  on  their  unlawful  work  ;  mostly  devoting 
the  day  hours  to  sleep  and  the  nights  to  work, 
when  they  kept  armed  guards  out.  My  aim, 
therefore,  was  to  catch  them  asleep,  and  thus 
minimize  the  risk.  My  men  were  carefully 
instructed  to  do  everything  possible  to  preserve 
their  fictitious  characters  of  sportsmen.  They 
were  to  be  especially  wary  not 
to  arouse  the  suspicions  of 
natives  they  might  run  across 
as  to  their  true  characters,  and 
so  give  these  sympathizers  of 
the  law-breakers  a  chance  to 
warn  them. 

I  believe  this  is  preamble 
enough  to  help  the  reader  to 
understand  the  situation,  when, 
about  eleven  o'clock  in  the 
forenoon  of  August  14th,  1863 
(the  second  day  after  I  had 
received  my  orders  from  the 
Collector),  I  stood  gazing  up  a 
broad,  shallow  valley  leading 
into  the  timbered  Green  River 
hills,  out  of  the  far  end  of  which 
little  valley  I  had  just  seen  the 
last  pair  of  my  deputies  dis- 
appear. 

Everything  in  a  preliminary 
way  had  passed  off  without  a  hitch,  and  I  was 
correspondingly  conceitedly  serene.  That  no 
companion  had  been  left  for  myself  was  not  an 
oversight  on  my  part,  for  I  wanted  to  work  alone. 
I  had  marked  out  two  alternative  courses  for 
myself — one  being  to  scout  about  like  my 
deputies,  the  other  to  go  boldly  to  the  cabin  of 
some  native,  pretend  I  wished  to  buy  a  cask  of 
the  "  best  stuff,"  and,  if  I  proved  clever  enough 
or  the  native  witless  enough,  induce  the  man  to 
put  me  on  the  right  track  to  where  the  contra- 
band was  dispensed. 

After  some  reflection  I  at  length  settled  on 
the  second  plan,  and  cast  my  eyes  about  to  find 
a  likely-looking  cabin.  Presently  I  spied  one, 
almost  hidden  by  trees  and  brushwood,  well  up 
the  valley  on  the  left.  I  had  taken  one  single 
step  in  its  direction  when  I  was  startled  by 
hearing   a   low,  chuckling   noise  directly  beside 


266 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


me,  followed  instantly  by  these  words  in  a  weak, 
almost  effeminate,  voice  : — 

"  Want  a  feller  to  show  yer  where  the  squirrels 
is  thickest,  mister?  Or,  'lowin'  'tain't  squirrels — 
'lowin'  it's  the  'Shiners  yer  out  gunnin'  fer,  yer'll 
need  me  to  point  out  where  they  does  business." 

Grabbing  my  gun,  I  wheeled  sharply  around 
to  ascertain  from  whence  this  mysterious  voice 
came. 

I  saw  before  me  a  shoeless,  hatless,  and 
practically  garmentless  boy,  of  not  a  whit  more 
than  fourteen  years  of  age,  and  slightly  built 
even  for  that.  He  was  thin-featured,  with  the 
peculiarly  colour- 
less skin  and 
neutral-tinted  eyes 
characteristic  of 
the  "  poor  whites" 
of  the  South  ;  so 
diminutive  a  spe- 
cimen of  his  kind 
that  he  was  nearly 
hidden  from  sight 
in  the  under- 
growth. 

It  was  apparent, 
however,  that  the 
urchin  took  him- 
self seriously,  and 
made  up  in 
earnestness  what 
he  lacked  in  size. 
He  looked  me  in 
the  eyes  unflinch- 
ingly, with  the 
most  sober  aspect 
conceivable,  and 
at  once  repeated 
in  a  slightly 
different  form  the 
queries  which  had 
so  startled  me  :  — 

"  Want  a  feller 
what  was  rizzed  in 
these  yere  moun- 
tains to  go  along 
with  yer,  mister? 
If  it's  the  'Shiners 
yer  'lowin'  to  ketch,  I  reckons  I  kin  lead  yer 
straight  to  —  —  Ouch  !  quit  that,  then,  will 
yer  ?  " 

It  was  a  bad  neighbourhood  I  was  in.  A 
sudden  suspicion  had  flashed  through  my  mind 
that,  small  and  unsophisticated  as  this  visitor  of 
mine  seemed  to  be,  he  had  been  sent  to  lead 
me  into  a  trap.  It  would  have  been  a  very 
transparent  scheme — one,  it  struck  me,  the 
rascals  might  have  expected  me  to  see  through 
right  away.     So  I  had  seized  the  boy's  arm  with 


'  WANT   A    FELLER    WHAT    WAS    RIZZED    IN 

WITH   YER, 


my    disengaged    hand,    none    too    gently,    and 
given  him  a  vigorous  shake. 

"  What  are  you  up  to,  you  little  beggar  ?  "  I 
asked,  angrily,  lifting  him  off  the  ground  and  whirl- 
ing him  about  so  that  he  should  stand  between 
me  and  the  upper  valley,  where,  if  he  had  con- 
federates, they  would  probably  be  in  hiding.  I 
had  no  fancy  for  being  picked  off  by  the  rascals 
if  they  disapproved  of  what  I  was  doing. 
"  What  makes  you  think  I'm  after  anything  but 
squirrels  or  birds  ?  " 

By  an  unexpectedly  dexterous  wriggle,  the 
lad  slipped  out  of  the  tattered  garment  which 

did  service  as  his 
coat  and  leaped 
nimbly  to  a  posi- 
tion of  compara- 
tive safety  some 
feet  away. 

I  stood  gazing 
at  him  in  open- 
mouthed  helpless- 
ness, holding  the 
frayed  coat  in  my 
hand  ;  a  good  bit 
more  disturbed 
mentally  than  my 
young  visitor,  not- 
withstanding the 
fact  that  he  was 
now  reduced,  in 
the  way  of  clothes, 
to  about  a  leg  and 
an  eighth  of  Ken- 
tucky jean  trou- 
sers. 

"You  under- 
sized little  spy  !  " 
I  gasped,  finally, 
irresolute  how  to 
proceed  to  a  re- 
capture, but  deter- 
mined not  to  let 
him  escape.  I'll 
admit  I  was  a 
good  bit  dis- 
turbed, because  I 
believed  all  my 
carefully  laid  plans  had  been  discovered  by  the 
Moonshiners  before  1  had  had  much  more  than 
a  chance  to  start  executing  them. 

"  I  ain't  no  spy ! "  piped  a  clear,  childish 
treble  suddenly  and  in  unmistakable  indigna- 
tion, as  the  half-naked  waif  abruptly  turned 
upon  me  and  stood  boldly  confronting  me — so 
unexpected  an  action  that  it  brought  me  up 
short  once  more.  "  Leastways,"  he  added,  in  a 
tense  little  voice,  "  I  ain't  jest  nacherly  a  spy, 
like  you  rev'noo  spotters  is  !  " 


THESE    YERE    MOUNTAINS    TO   GO    ALONG 
MISTER?" 


THE    MOONSHINERS. 


'67 


He  gave  this  a  second  to  sink  home,  evidently 
revelling  in  my  look  of  surprise. 

"I  knowed  yer  as  soon's  I  clapt  my  eyes  on 
yer,  an'  seen  the  other  fellers  sneak  off  an'  leave 
yer  here  lookin'  about  yer."  Then  he  added, 
scornfully,  "  That-a-way  ain't  no  squirrel-hunter's 
ways,  mister." 

He  glanced  keenly  into  my  face.  I  was  still 
dazed  by  the  bold  stand  he  had  taken  ;  logically, 
a  Moonshiner's  son  should  have  been  terror- 
stricken  in  the  presence  of  a  Revenue  officer. 
"  But  see  yere,"  this  weird  youth  went  on, 
"  you  ain't  got  no  call  to  be  scared  of  me  !  '' 
1  actually  choked  at  this  sop  to  my  fears — "  fer 
my  own  daddy  was  one  of  you-uns — spotters,  I 
mean — an'  these  low-down  night-hawks  of  Moon- 
shiners got  him  when  he  was  'lowin'  to  git 
them  !  " 

I  caught  my  breath.  "Your  daddy?"  I 
gasped,  wonderingly— and  a  bit  incredulously. 

"Yes,  my  daddy,"  replied  the  lad,  proudly— 
"  Cap'n  Tom  Goff —an'  my  name  is  Eddie  Goff." 

He  eyed  me  with  a  triumphant  look  an  instant ; 
then,  drawing  his  slight  form  up  to  its  full  limit 
of  fifty  and  some  odd  inches,  he  asked,  re- 
proachfully, "  Does  yer  think  likely  Cap'n  Goff  s 
son  is  a  spy,  mister,  an'  doin'  sneak  work  for  the 
'Shiners?" 

The  quick  change  my  sentiments  had  under- 
gone in  the  last  minute  left  me  unable  to  speak 
again.  If  what  the  little  fellow  said  was  the 
truth — and  I  had  no  reason  to  doubt  it— then 
I  was  the  biggest  duffer  in  the  land  ;  for  Captain 
Tom  Goff  had  been  the  bravest  Revenue  spotter 
the  service  ever  had.  He  was  one  of  the  un- 
fortunate "predecessors"  I  have  mentioned. 

"  They  murdered  my  father — murdered  him 
in  cold  blood,"  continued  the  boy,  forcing  back 
his  tears.  "That's  what  they  done,  mister.  He 
hadn't  no  show  fer  his  life.  More'n  twenty 
of  'em  sneaked  on  him  at  night  when  he  was 
sittin'  peaceful  in  his  own  house,  an'  peppered 
him  through  a  shut  winder." 

There  was  almost  a  sob  in  his  voice  now  ;  but 
he  suppressed  it  and  turned  a  pair  of  fierce  little 
eyes  on  me,  as  he  repeated  :  "An'  does  yer  still 
'low  to  reckon  I'm  like  to  be  a  spyin'  fer  the 
'Shiners,  mister  ?  " 

Probably  there  was  that  in  my  face  which 
made  an  actual  answer  to  his  questions  unneces- 
sary, for  he  hurriedly  resumed  : — 

"  You  fellers  can't  no  more  find  where  the 
Throop  boys  has  their  stills  hid  now,  without  me 
to  point  out  a  safe  way,  than  nothin'  at  all.  Now 
lookee  yere — my  plan  is  fer  me  an'  you— 

I  had  been  hoping  the  little  fellow  would 
reach  that  point.  Of  course,  I  had  been  feeling 
ashamed  of  myself  for  having  suspected  him — a 
brave  little  man,  who,  with  his  Kentucky-nursed 


ideas  of  "A  tooth  for  a  tooth,"  hoped  with  my  aid 
to  avenge  his  father's  untimely  death.  I  wanted 
to  assure  him  how  much  I  regretted  my  rough 
handling  of  him  and  that  I  had  the  most  per- 
fect faith  in  him.  Then,  besides,  I  knew  the 
sad  story  he  had  so  pathetically  mentioned,  and 
the  mere  mention  of  the  name  Goff  as  his  own 
would  have  squared  him  with  me.  Rut  more 
than  anything  else  I  was  becoming  impatient  to 
get  ahead  with  my  scout  work.  Consequently, 
when  the  lad  mentioned  a  plan,  after  premising 
that  there  was  no  use  in  anyone  trying  to  find 
the  gang's  hiding-place  without  him,  I  drew  a  long 
breath  of  relief.  Then  I  made  the  quickest  move 
of  my  life  as  I  dived  into  a  thick  hedge  of  bush. 

For  the  crack  of  a  rifle  sounded  from  some- 
where down  the  shallow  ravine,  and  a  bullet  came 
tearing  through  the  branches  of  the  scrub-oak 
behind  me,  cutting  off  a  small  twig  less  than  six 
inches  from  my  head.  I  was  standing  facing 
away  from  the  hills  at  the  moment,  the  boy 
fronting  me,  possibly  half-a-dozen  steps  below. 

"That  air's  Jeff  Throop,  now,"  he  remarked, 
calmly,  without  the  least  trace  of  excitement  in 
his  voice,  though  he  lost  no  time  in  diving  down 
alongside  me  in  the  bush.  "  I  knows  the  sing 
of  his  old  musket  fur  as  I  kin  hear  it  shoot. 
Sometimes  I  hides  in  the  brush  an'  watches  him, 

hopin' But  say,  mister"  (he  came  suddenly 

back  to  the  present,  seeming  to  recall  the  tick- 
lish  situation  we  were  placed  in,  and  there  was 
grave  disapproval  in  his  tone),  "  'pears  like  as  if 
'bout  everybody  knows  who  you  are.  You'd 
have  raised  a  nice  row  trying  to  git  near  them 
stills  'thout  me  !  " 

He  paused  to  draw  himself  up  to  his  knees  to 
peer  through  a  small  opening  in  the  curtain  ol 
leaves  where  he  had  parted  them  with  his  hand. 
"  You  didn't  never  ought  to  hev  tried  to  fool 
fellers  as  sharp  as  them  Throops  by  lettin'on  yer 
was  jest  hunters." 

A  second  bullet  pinged  into  the  brush-hedge 
uncomfortably  close  to  us;  a  quick  glance 
through  the  peep-hole  my  small  critic  had  made 
revealing  a  puff  of  white  smoke  arising  over  a 
clump  of  thick  scrub  which  surrounded  the 
entire  upper  end  of  the  valley.  "  Yer  can  see 
fer  yerself,"  added  the  boy,  scornfully,  "  that 
'stead  of  you-uns  huntin'  the  'Shiners  they're  a- 
huntin'  you.  It's  a-going  to  make  it  necessary 
fer  we-uns  to  act  mighty  quick.  It  don't  jest 
spile  my  plans,  but  it  more'n  doubles  the  risk. 
Now,  lookee  yere " 

Only  three  or  four  minutes  had  elapsed  since 
the  first  shot  had  been  fired.  The  incident  had 
naturally  enough  temporarily  dumfounded  me. 
While  the  boy  had  been  calmly  condemning  my 
cherished  plan  of  campaign,  I  had  been  strh 
to  decide  how  to  act  under  the  changed   condi 


>M 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


"  IT    TOOK    FEW    WORDS    FOR    HIM    TO   OUTLINE    HI 


tions.  I  had  concluded  hastily  that  his  plans, 
as  well  as  my  own,  must  now  necessarily  be 
upset,  then  remembered  suddenly  when  he 
remarked  that  his  programme  was  only  partially 
"  spiled "  that  I  hadn't  learned  yet  what  that 
programme  was. 

It  took  but  few  words  for  him  to  outline  it, 
and  if  it  had  been  mapped  out  especially  for  the 
exact  fix  we  were  in  at  that  moment  it  could 
not  have  filled  the  bill  better. 

The  plan  was  simplicity  itself.  The  hedge 
we  two  were  crouching  in  extended  in  an 
unbroken  line  towards  the  right  until  it  reached 
a  high  ridge  of  ground  which  formed  the  lower 
boundary  of  the  valley,  the  ridge  itself  con- 
tinuing all  the  way  up  to  the  timbered  hills. 
Near  where  >  the  brush-hedge  joined  the  ridge 
my  companion  stated  we  would  find  the  mouth  of 
a  cave,  almost  completely  hidden  by  big  boulders. 
It  appeared  to  be,  when  one  happened  to 
discover  it,  nothing  but  a  shallow  hole  in  the 
ground,  such  as  bears  use  for  sleeping-quarters, 
and  no  one  but  the  boy  himself  knew  it  to  be 
anything  else.  But  he  had  one  day  crept  into 
it,  to  discover  that  it  widened  out  into  a 
sort  of  tunnel — in  places  quite  narrow,  however — 
which  extended  throughout  the  entire  length  of 
the  ridge  into  the  solid  mountain  beyond,  at 
which  terminus  it  swelled  into  a  pretty  large 
chamber,  beyond  the  upper  or  northern  wall  of 
which  was  another  extremely  large  cave.  He  had 
found  out  this  latter  fact  when,  in  his  investi- 
gating, he   had  run   across   a   dark  passage-way, 


large  enough  for  six 
men  to  walk  abreast, 
connecting  the  two 
chambers. 

The  cave  beyond 
the  wall  was  the  work- 
shop of  the  Moon- 
shiners. He  had 
come  within  an  ace 
of  walking  straight  in 
amongst  them,  the 
darkness  surround- 
ing him — only  made 
deeper  by  the  fact 
that  the  gang  had 
pine  torches  flaring 
at  the  far  end  of  the 
cave  —  having  saved 
him  from  being  seen. 
This  the  boy  ex- 
plained to  me  in  the 
fewest  words  possible. 
His  idea  was  to  first 
conduct  me  far 
enough  into  the 
tunnel,  so  that  I 
could  go  on  alone  to  the  back  chamber,  where 
I  was  to  wait  while  he  hurried  off  and  commu- 
nicated secretly  with  my  men,  whom  he  proposed 
to  bring  in  through  the  brush  and  tunnel  to 
where  I  was,  "  providin',"  he  said,  "that  they 
ain't  already  bin  took  in,  an'  I  kin  find  'em.  The 
'Shiners  knows  nothin'  about  thisyere  tunnel,"  he 
added,  "  'cause  I've  watched  'em  to  see  ;  an'  they 
never  comes  into  the  back  cave.  It's  a  sure  thing. 
You  lot  will  get  together  where  it's  dark  an'  pick 
yer  own  time  to  jump  in  at  'em.  Of  course, 
there'll  be  some  shootin'  "—there  was  a  strain  of 
fierce  joy  in  the  perfectly  matter-of-fact  tone  he 
said  this  in — "an'  that's  where  I  'lows  to  git 
even  with  the  men  what  killed  my  father." 

Long  before  the  lad  had  reached  this  part  of 
his  programme  I  was  following  close  at  his 
heels  in  a  quick  creep  through  the  underbrush. 
I  would  have  liked  it  better  to  feel  more  certain 
that  my  men  were  still  safe  —  nearly  an  hour  had 
passed  and  I  had  had  no  sign  from  them — so  that 
I  could  depend  on  their  joining  me.  I  should  be 
in  a  nice  fix,  I  realized,  without  them.  I  heard 
nothing  more  of  the  fellow  who  had  been  taking 
pot-shots  at  me,  and  I  concluded  he  was  a 
straggling  Moonshiner  who  had  just  happened 
to  sight  me  standing  there  armed,  and  had  fired 
out  of  mere  curiosity  to  make  me  show  my  face. 
I  decided  that  my  deputies  were  therefore  prob- 
ably all  right  still,  and  that  my  brave  little 
partner  would  have  slight  trouble  in  getting  word 
to  them  as  he  proposed.  Anyhow,  that  was  a 
risk  I  must  run. 


THE    MOONSHINERS. 


269 


I    WAS    NOT    1'KEI'AKEl)    TO    KEEL   TEN    BONY    FINGERS   CLUTCHING    DESPERATELY    FOR 

MY    WINDl'U'E." 


myself,  which  I  was  not  prepared 
for  in  any  measure  at  all. 

I  was  not  prepared,  for  instance 
— since  the  Moonshiners  were  sup- 
posed not  to  know  of  the  existence 
of  the  back  cavern,  or  at  least  had 
been  found  by  the  boy  never  to 
occupy  it — to  have  a  long,  muscu- 
lar arm  shoot  out  suddenly  from 
the  gloom  in  this  identical  chamber 
and  grab  my  shot-gun  from  my 
hands.  I  was  not  prepared  to  feel 
ten  bony  fingers  clutching  despe- 
rately for  my  windpipe.  I  was  not 
prepared  to  receive  the  blinding 
glare  of  almost  a  score  of  suddenly 
lighted  pine -torches — which  ap- 
peared to  have  been  magically 
touched  with  life  at  one  and  the 
same  instant — nor  to  find  revealed 
by  them  the  giant  forms  of  an 
equal  number  of  rough-bearded, 
glowering  hillmen  —  by  courtesy 
"mountaineers."  Some  six  of 
these,  as  well  as  I  was  able  to 
judge,  had  their  arms  twined  about 
me  at  once,  striving  respectively 
to  bind  me  hand  and  foot,  choke 
me  into  a  non-combative  mood, 
I  will  not  go   into  detail  concerning  my  trip         and  at  the  same  time  to  force  a  foul-smelling  gag 

up   the   long,  narrow   cavern   beneath  the  ridge         of  rags  into  my  mouth.     Then   I   felt  my  legs, 

with  my  little  guide,  more  than  to  state  that  we         bound  as  they  were,  suddenly  spring  out  from 

speedily  reached  a  point —about  half-way  in,  as         under   me,  and    myself  being  lifted  in   brawny 

I  judged — from  which 

spot  the  lad  called  my 

attention    to    a    faint 

light  ahead,  which  he 

told    me    was   where 

the     sunshine     came 

through  a  crack  in  the 

roof  of  the  rear  cave, 

in    which,    it  will    be 

remembered,     I    was 

to  cautiously  conceal 

myself  until  the  arrival 

of  my  companions. 
This  point  reached, 

the    little    fellow    im- 
mediately   turned    to 

speed   back   over   the 

rough    track    we    had 

come  by,  to  hunt  for 

and     hurry     my    ten 

men    to   the   ren- 
dezvous. 

I  am  now  going  to 

describe  a  few  things 

I  stumbled  up  against 

after    being    left    to  "1  felt  myself  being  lifted  in  bra\vny  arms." 


270 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


arms,  one  man  grasping  me  beneath  the  shoul- 
ders, two  clutching  me  on  either  side,  and  a 
sixth  man  holding  my  legs. 

I  was  half-dazed  by  the  suddenness  and  un- 
expectedness of  it  all ;  and  except  for  a  few  well- 
administered  kicks  had  offered  no  opposition. 
It  was  as  one  in  a  dream  or  a  trance  that  I 
heard  a  rough  voice  somewhere  in  the  cave 
ask:  "What's  become  o'  young  Jeff?  Say, 
men,  ain't  he  a  peach  ?  " 

"  He's  gone  to  look  for  the  rest  o'  the  gang," 
replied  the  man  at  my  head,  gruffly. 

I  attached  no  particular  meaning  to  these 
remarks,  more  than  to  have  a  vague  idea  that 
the  Moonshiners  had  sent  someone  to  gather 
in  their  stragglers.  What  little  sense  I  had  (for, 
apart  from  the  shock  of  the  surprise,  the  choking 
I  had  received  had  helped  to  muddle  my  brain) 
I  was  devoting  to  a  sort  of  dim  wonderment  as 
to  how  the  gang  had  been  able  to  find  out  I 
was  coming  up  a  tunnel  they  knew  nothing 
about,  and  then  to  gather  there  at  the  end  of 
it  and  wait  for  me — all  in  sin  h  a  brief  space 
of  time.  I  settled  it  to  my  own 
satisfaction  that  the  fellow  who 
had  taken  the  two  shots  at  me  must 
have  afterwards  made  a  quick  trip 
down  to  where  the  boy  and  I  were 
concealed,  and  had  overheard  our 
talk  in  time  to  get  back  where  his 
companions  were  at  work,  or  asleep, 
and  arrange  this  reception  as  a  sort 
of  grim  joke.  I  was  clear  as  to  one 
thing  in  my  mind,  and  that  was  the 
perfect  fidelity  of  Eddie  Goff;  and 
underneath  my  own  chagrin  I  was 
sorry  for  my  brave  little  partner. 
How  keenly  he  would  be  dis- 
appointed !  Gradually  I  began  to 
devote  my  mind  to  my  immediate 
predicament  — to  wonder  what  the 
gang  intended  doing  with  me;  to 
try  to  decide  whether  I  had  better 
make  an  effort  to  rid  myself  of  my 
gag,  so  that  I  could  shout  and  warn 
my  companions  when  I  heard  the 
first  of  them  approaching  the 
passage-way,  thus  giving  them  a 
chance  to  escape.  I  didn't  believe 
for  a  moment  that  the  gang  pro- 
posed murdering  us  all  in  cold 
blood.  The  probabilities  were,  I 
reflected,  that  my  deputies  would  be 
surrounded  and  captured  outside 
anyhow  if  they  tried  getting  away; 
but  then  there  was  the  poor  little 
Goff  lad  !  The  gang  probably  in- 
tended to  take  him — knowing  our 
plan  in  detail — when  he  guided  the 


last  couple  in.  I  must  get  warning  to  him;  good- 
ness alone  knew  what  his  fate  would  be  if  he  fell 
into  the  hands  of  the  vindictive  Moonshiners  ! 

A  vicious  poke  in  the  ribs  from  the  barrel  of 
a  long  musket  rudely  interrupted  my  line  of 
thought.  The  fellows  who  had  picked  me  up 
had  stopped  after  taking  a  few  steps  to  argue 
with  some  of  the  other  ones ;  evidently,  though 
I  had  given  scant  attention  to  their  gruff 
wrangling,  it  was  the  immediate  disposition  to  be 
made  of  me  they  could  not  agree  upon.  I 
suppose  that  my  porters  had  started  for  the  front 
cave  with  me,  for  I  afterwards  dreamily  recalled 
having  heard  someone  say  : — 

"  Leave  the  blessed  spy  trussed  up  there  near 
the  gang-hole,  so's  he  kin  see  his  mateys 
come  amblin'  in  an'  bein'  set  up  'longside  him, 
like  lambs  to  the  slaughter."  Then  I  felt 
myself  being  forcefully  deposited  on  the  floor  of 
the  cave  against  the  rocky  wall  close  to  the 
passage-way.  Simultaneously  I  felt  the  small 
circular  end  of  the  gun-barrel  digging  into  my 
anatomy,  accompanied  by  sneering  queries. 


I    FELT  THE   SMALL   CIRCULAR    END  OF  THE  GUN-BARREL  DIGGING  INTO  MY  ANATOMY, 


THE    MOONSHINERS. 


271 


"  So  yer  'lowed  to  outwit  the  wicked  Moon- 
shiners, did  yer,  Mister  Sneak  ?  Goin'  to  ketch 
'em  a-nappin',  was  yer  ? "  Each  question  was 
punctuated  by  a  fresh  poke  with  the  sharp  gun- 
barrel.  "  Does  yer  know  what  we-uns  is  goin' 
to  do  with  you  sneakin'  spies  when  we  gits  you 
all  gathered  in  ?  "  the  man  snarled,  bending  his 
huge  frame  downward  so  as  to  bring  his  great 
hairy  face  on  a  level  with  my  own.  The  other 
members  of  the  gang  pressed  in  close  behind 
him ;  and  a  more  evil-looking  crowd  of  men  I 
never  saw,  though  the  flickering  torchlight  may 
have  added  a  touch  of  villainy  to  their  bearded 
faces  and  uncouth  forms. 

"  Reckon  I'd  better  tell  you,"  continued  my 
tormentor,  "  so's  you  won't  go  har- 
bourin'  false  ideas  as  to  what's  comin' 
to  yer.  These  yere  caves,"  he  said,  as 
though  he  were  some  backwoodsman 
school-teacher  imparting  a  lesson  in 
geography  to  a  pupil,  "  is  somethin' 
like  two  hundred  miles  broad.  There's 
a  big  string  on  'em  stretchin'  out  clean 
under  the  whole  State  of  Kentucky. 
No  one  hain't  ever  explored  'em  'twixt 
yere  an'  the  ol'  Mammoth,*  an'  there's 
a  powerful  swift  stream  o'  water  run- 
nin'  back  into  'em  that  nobody  now 
livin'  ain't  explored  neither  —  or, 
leastways,  not  very  fur.  On  this  yere 
river  we  have  got  boats  which  we  uses 
to  go  up  stream  with,  'cause  we  kin 
git  out  of  the  cave  that  way.  If  you 
listens,  Mister  Spotter,  you  kin  hear 
the  water  slushin'  in  through  the  front 
cave-room  now." 

I  could  hear  it  quite  distinctly,  and 
the  man's  allusion  to  it  made  me  very 
uncomfortable;  I  was  beginning  to 
understand  the  fiendish  plot  he  was 
unfolding — not  clearly,  but  sufficiently 
to  hold  my  attention. 

"  We  kin  git  out  of  the  caves  that 
way,"  repeated  the  Moonshiner,  in  a 
lower   tone,    which,    intentionally   or 
otherwise,  gave  a  creepy  effect  to  his 
words.       "  But    one    day    we    had   a 
accident.     One  of  our  fellers  lost  the 
sculls  out  of  his   boat  when    he  was       "we  don't 
plump  out  in  the  middle  o'  the  swift 
current.      His   boat  swirled   round    sudden   as 
if  a  whirlpool    had    hold    o'    it,    an'    took  him 
down  stream  'stead    of  up.     None  o'  us  never 


set  eyes  on  the  poor  chap  from  that  day  to 
this." 

A  malicious  leer  accompanied  the  man's 
words  at  this  point.  He  chuckled  mirthlessly 
at  his  own  eloquence,  the  band  again  showing 
their  appreciation  in  a  chorus  of  low  growls. 

"We  don't  like  to  take  even  a  sneakin'spotter's 
life  deliberately,"  continued  the  narrator,  "  'cept 
it's  in  self-defence,  so  we  settled  it  amongst 
ourselves  that  the  next  one  of  'em  we  got  a  grip 
on — an',  my  !  you  was  a  dead  easy  one  ! — we'd 
jest  turn  him  adrift  to  go  and  hunt  our  poor 
mate.  We  didn't  reckon  to  catch  a  whole  bunch 
of  yer  at  once,  but " 

Now,  I  was  no  coward — my  record  had  proved 


*  The  famous  Mammoth  Cave  of  Kentucky  lies  about  forty  miles 
from  the  scene  of  this  tale,  and  this  stretch  of  country  embraces  the 
wildest  part,  in  point  of  inaccessibility,  of  all  the  hundreds  of  miles 
of  wonderful  caves  in  this  region.  MugIi  of  it  is  still  practically 
unexplored. — Thk  AuTHORf 


LIKE   TO    TAKE    EVEN    A   SNEAKIN'    SIOITER's    LIFE     DELIBERATELY, 
CONTINUED   THE    NARRATOR." 

that — but  a  kind  of  dumb  horror  crept  over  me 
as  the  full  meaning  of  the  Moonshiners'  inten- 
tions towards  myself  and  my  men  dawned  upon 
me.  The  villains  meant  to  set  us  adrift,  bound 
and  helpless,  on  the  dark,  mysterious  stream  that 
ran  through  the  cave  and  penetrated  into  the 
very  bowels  of  the  mountains  ! 


(  To  be  concluded.) 


BESIEGED    IN    A    CHIMNEY 


By  H.  L.  Adam. 

An  amusing  story  from  the  Emerald  Isle.  How  a  resourceful  steeplejack,  sentenced  to  imprisonment, 
evaded  the  law  by  establishing  himself  at  the  top  of  a  seventy=foot  chimney,  whence  he  defied  the 
police  to  remove  him.  For  weeks  he  occupied  his  novel  eyrie,  despite  every  effort  to  arrest  him,  and 
even  paid  occasional  visits  to  his  friends.  Excitement  waxed  high  as  this  extraordinary  siege 
progressed,  and  the  outlaw  received  shoals  of  sympathetic  letters. 


m^ 


HE  simile  of  the  snowball  is  a 
familiar  one,  but  perhaps  a  more 
elaborate  illustration  of  it  has  never 
been  recorded  than  the  achieve- 
ment of  James  Gill,  a  steeplejack,  of 
Newry,  Ireland,  who,  with  the  true  Hibernian 
instinct,  worked  up  a  huge  joke  out  of  a 
personal  calamity.  It  is  characteristic  of  the 
Celt  that,  if  he  can  by  hook  or  by  crook  set 
officialism — particularly  police  officialism  —  at 
defiance,  he  is  at  the  very  apex  of  his  delight 
and  glory.  He  will  do  this  for  the  pleasure  he 
derives  from  it  alone,  but  if  he  can  also  turn  it 
to  account  financially  so  much  the  better. 

One  morning  the  papers  contained  a  brief 
announcement,  a  mere  paragraph,  to 
the  effect  that  a  steeplejack  named  Gill, 
of  Newry,  was  evading  the  law  in  a 
novel  fashion  by  establishing  himself  at 
the  top  of  a  tall  chimney  and  refusing 
to  descend.  It  was  so  trifling  an  item 
of  news  that  one  might  easily  have 
passed  it  by  without  notice,  but  as 
day  succeeded  day  and  week  succeeded 
week,  leaving  the  redoubtable  "Jimmy" 
still  up  the  chimney,  the  affair  grew  in 
importance,  and  the  space  it  occupied 
in  the  newspapers  was  proportionately 
enlarged.  Meanwhile  the  shrewd  Irish- 
man, perceiving  that  his  ingenious 
scheme  had  caught  the  public  fancy, 
resolved  to  work  it  "  for  all  it  was 
worth."  In  consequence  he  figures 
on  innumerable  picture  post-cards,  his 
praises  have  been  sung  in  many  poems 
of  more  or  less  beauty  and  elegance, 
and— crowning  laurel  of  all !  — he  has 
been  made  the  subject  of  a  political 
cartoon  by  no  less  an  artist  than  the 
redoubtable  "  F.  C.  G."  Can  fame 
go  farther  than  this  ? 

In  order  to  obtain  the  full  story  of 
this  curious  affair  for  The  Wide 
World  Magazine  I  recently  went 
over  to  Ireland. 

Repairing  to  the  police-barracks  I 
had  a  chat  with  the  chief  constable, 
whom  I  found  most  genial  and  com- 
municative. Not  unnaturally,  he  made 
light    of    the    affair,    and    absolutely 


refused  to  regard  Mr.  James  Gill  as  in  any  way 
approaching  a  hero ;  in  fact,  he  had  a  very 
different  description  for  him.  But  he  was 
good  enough  to  tell  me  exactly  how  the 
whole  ridiculous  business  came  about.  It 
appears  that  one  night  there  was  a  "difference" 
between  Gill  and  one  of  his  neighbours.  It  was 
one  of  those  delirious  occasions  when  the  Irish 
strike  for  very  delight,  and  several  people  got 
more  or  less  damaged.  As  a  natural  result  Gill 
was  taken  in  hand  by  the  police,  the  sequel 
developing  at  the  Newry  police-court  in  the 
form  of  a  prosaic  charge  of  assault  against  the 
steeplejack,  which  eventuated  in  a  sentence  of 
one  month's  "hard"  without  the  "option,"  the 


GILL    WAS   TAKEN     IN     HAND    BY   THE    POLICE. 


B  ESI  EC.  Kl)    IN    A    CHIMNEY. 


273 


magistracy     considering      that     the      pugilistic 


"Jimmy"  ought  to  have  complete  rest  for  that  repaired 
period.  Curiously  enough, 
just  about  the  same  time  ■ 
"Jimmy"  obtained  a  con- 
tract to  pull  down  an  old 
chimney  at  the  salt  works, 
for  which  he  was  to 
receive  ten  pounds.  He 
explained  this  to  the  police, 
and  asked  to  be  given 
sufficient  time  to  climb  to 
the  top  of  the  chimney, 
remove  some  of  the  bricks, 
and  so  establish  his  claim 
to  the  contract,  which  he 
could  resume  when  he 
"came  out."  This  privilege 
he  was  granted,  it  being 
the  custom,  the  officer  ex- 
plained to  me,  to  allow 
such  indulgences  when  the 


circumstances     warrant. 

Having      established      his 

claim    to   the  contract, 

"Jimmy  "  —  as    the    chief 

constable    put   it,   with    an 

aggrieved  air  that  was  very 

funny  —  proceeded     to 

establish  himself — on  the 

chimney-top !       When    the 

police  came  for  their  prisoner  he  said,  airily,  in 

effect,  "  Thanks  for  the  privilege,  but  please  call 


After  leaving  the  police  head -quarters  I 
to  the  Sugar  Island  Salt  Works, 
where  the  steeplejack-- 
chimney  was  situated. 
There  was  a  big  crowd  of 
people  assembled  at  the 
spot  —  an  Irish  crowd,  of 
course  —  witnessing  and 
taking  part  in  an  exploit 
which  was  eminently  calcu- 
lated to  appeal  to  their 
sympathies. 

Alighting  from  my  jaunt- 
ing-car,   I    made    my    way 


JAMES   GILL,   THE    NEWRY    STEEPLEJACK    WHO    FOR    MANY 

WEEKS    DEFIED    THE    POLICE    FROM    THE   TOP   OF    A 

SEVENTY-FOOT   CHIMNEY. 

From    a    Photo,    by    Allisons. 


through  the  crowd,  down 
a  narrow  alley  -  way  to  a 
yard  wherein  the  chimney 
is  situated.  The  latter  I 
found  was  about  seventy 
feet  high,  and  not  more 
than  three  or  four  feet  in 
diameter;  it  was  surrounded 
by  a  ruined  wall,  and  on 
the  ground  at  the  base  were 
a  number  of  broken  bricks, 
which  had  been  removed 
from  above  by  "  Jimmy," 
and  sent  down.  The  en- 
trance to  the  chimney  was 
at  the  base,  in  the  form  of 
a  small  archway,  with  just 
sufficient  room  for  an  ordinarily  -  constructed 
individual  to  crawl  through.      Inside,  of  course, 


SOME   MEMBERS   OF    THE    NEWRY    POLICE    FORCE — THE   CHIEF    CONSTABLE     Is    THE    RIGHT-HAND    FIGURE,    HOI.D1NI 

From  a  Photo,   by   II'.   S.  Campbell. 


again  ;  I  haven't  quite  established  my  claim." 
And  he  went  on  pulling  off  bricks,  very,  very 
slowly.  Then,  and  not  till  then,  the  men  in 
blue  realized  that  they  had  been  sold. 

Vol.  xiv.— 36. 


the  space  was  very  limited,  it  being  impossible 
for  two  persons  to  pass  one  another.  It  was  also 
very  dirty,  and  the  task  of  effecting  an  entrance 
and  making  an  ascent  can  easily  be  imagined  as 


274 


THE     WIDE    WORE!)    MAGAZINE. 


not  only  very  difficult,  hut  extremely  uninviting. 
The  method  adopted  by  Gill  was  to  erect  a 
number  of  small  platforms  at  easy  stages,  and, 
taking  a  short  ladder  with  him,  mount  from  one 
platform  to  another,  pulling  the  ladder  up  after 
him.  Pursuit  was  rendered  additionally  difficult 
by  the  fact  that  a  brick  dropped  from  above 
could  not  very  easily  miss  the  head  of  anyone 
beneath  —  a  most  painful  and  embarrassing 
reflection  for  Gill's  would-be  captors. 

Arrived  at  the  top  the  resourceful  steeplejack 
had  built  a  larger  platform  and  erected  a  small 
windlass,  with  a  rope 
attachment,  for  the 
purpose  of  lowering 
the  bricks.  To  the 
rope,  which  dangled 
down  the  side  of  the 
chimney,  Gill  had 
tied  a  piece  of  red 
bunting,  as  a  sign  of 
warning  and  a  note 
of  defiance.  And, 
above  all,  there  was 
an  unpleasant 
menace  in  the  fact 
that  the  chimney  was 
unsafe,  this  being 
the  chief  reason  for 
its  removal,  and  ugly 
cracks  and  seams 
were  clearly  visible 
in  the  walls. 

Presently  a  figure 
appeared  at  the  top 
of    the    stack,     and 
there  arose  a  mighty, 
reverberating    cheer. 
It  was  the  redoubt- 
able "Jimmy  "  !     In 
response     to     the 
applause    he    raised 
his   hat  and  bowed, 
making   a    special    obeisance    to 
wards  two  or  three  constables  in 
the    crowrd.      The    police  looked 
up  and   "Jimmy"  looked  down, 
and    for    a    few    moments    they 
regarded    one    another    narrowly. 
Many   were    the    encouraging  re- 
marks   that    floated    up    to    the 
chimney-top    from    the    crowd    below. 


I  HE    LKOW'II 
STEEPLEJACK 


Well 


done,  Jimmy  ;  keep  it  up  !  "  shouted  one 
enthusiast.  "  I'll  do  that  same,"  came  back 
the  voice  of  the  steeplejack.  Then,  indicating 
one  of  the  constables,  who  was  of  rather 
liberal  proportions,  he  remarked,  "  Sorry  I  am 
to  keep  yez  waitin',  but  will  yez  just  step  up? 
The  dure's   open,  and  there's   plenty  o'  room 


for  yez,"  at  which  there  was  a  roar  of  laughter 
and  more  applause. 

The  head  constable  told  me,  by  the  way,  that, 
had  they  felt  inclined,  his  men  could  capture 
the  outlaw  with  ease,  but  after  inspecting  the 
chimney  I  must  take  the  liberty  of  doubting  the 
statement. 

Gill  has  a  son,  a  boy  about  sixteen,  and  this 
lad  acted  as  a  scout  for  his  father,  and  also 
brought  him  provisions,  the  latter  being  conveyed 
to  the  top  of  the  chimney  by  means  of  the 
rope  and  windlass.  There  was  thus  no  proba- 
bility of  starving  the 
besieged  into  sub- 
mission. Gill  slept 
in  his  chimney  for- 
tress, with  occasional 
little  secret  excur- 
sions to  mother 
earth  when  oppor- 
tunity offered  and 
the  coast  was  clear. 
Rumours  of  various 
kinds  were  con- 
stantly cropping  up 
concerning  him  — 
that  he  had  been 
taken,  surrendered, 
or  had  fallen  down 
the  shaft,  when  a 
rush  would  be  made 
to  ascertain  the 
truth.  Upon  one 
occasion  a  rumour 
gained  currency  that 
he  had  fallen  and 
injured  himself,  and 
many  sympathizers 
gathered  at  the  foot 
of  the  chimney. 
Suddenly  a  head 
appeared  over  the 
edge  of  the  chimney- 
top,  and  a  face,  suf- 
fused with  a  broad 
grin,  looked  down 
at  the  people.  It 
was  their  hero,  safe 
and  sound.  With 
one  accord  the 
crowd  gave  a  rous- 
ing cheer,  which  the  steeplejack  acknowledged 
by  raising  his  hat  and  bowing.  He  then 
gave  them  a  piece  of  news,  to  the  effect  that  he 
proposed  to  give  a  firework  display  from  the 
top  of  the  chimney  for  the  entertainment  of  his 
patrons — a  display  that  for  lavish  brilliancy  would 
cause  the  Crystal  Palace  authorities  to  turn  pale 
with  envy.     The  firework  show  duly  came  off, 


GAVE    A     ROUSING    CHEEK,    WHICH    THE 
ACKNOWLEDGED    BY  RAISING    HIS    HAT." 


BESIEGED    IN    A    CHIMNEY. 


275 


and  was  unanimously  voted  a  big  success  by 
everyone  except  the  mortified  police  authorities. 

Gill  is  a  man  of  about  middle  age  and 
medium  height,  spare,  and  with  the  agility  of 
a  cat.  I  was  not  able  to  discover,  when  I  saw 
him,  whether  he  was  a  blonde  or  a  brunette, 
because  he  was  simply  sooty.  His  son's  motto 
was  "  No  surrender,"  and  "  Jimmy's  "  "  Nil 
desperandy." 
This  was  not  the 
first  time  he  had 
carried  out  a 
similar  exploit. 
Once  before  he 
was  wanted  by 
the  police,  who, 
he  declares,  are 
the  root  of  all 
evil,  but  instead 
of  calmly  sur- 
rendering he  re- 
tired to  the  roof 
of  a  house — it 
is  said  that  he 
can  climb  up  the 
face  of  one  like 
a  monkey — and 
defied  his  would- 
be  captors  for 
the  space  of 
eight  or  nine 
days,  when,  pro- 
bably tiring  of 
his  isolation,  he 
calmly  walked 
into  the  station 
and  gave  him- 
self up. 

Scores  and 
scores  of  cards 
of  congratula- 
tion were  con- 
tinually arriving, 
some  addressed, 
"Jimmy  Gill, 
Sugar  Island 
Chimney  Stack, 
N  e  w  r  y  ,  Co. 
Armagh,  Ireland,"  and  they  were  duly  delivered 
at  the  steeplejack's  stronghold  by  grinning 
postmen.  One  card,  bearing  the  Drogheda 
postmark,  was  facetiously  addressed,  "To  His 
Excellency  James  Gill,  Esq.,  Sugar  Island, 
Newry,  Co.  Down,"  and  was  signed  "  Santos 
Dumont,"  the  writer  announcing  his  intention 
of  visiting  "Jimmy"  in  his  airship,  to  take 
afternoon  tea  with  him.  He  has  also  been 
variously  addressed  as  "  Ireland's  Bright  Star," 
"The  Renowned  Steeplejack,"  "  Bould  Jamie," 


'  JIMMY 


"Jimmy  Gill,  Esq.,  Knight  of  the  Chimney," 
"Steeplejack  Jimmy,"  "Commandant  James 
Gill,  Chimney  Stack  Fort,"  etc.  One  encourag- 
ing message  ran  :  "  A  Newry  lady  wishes  you 
good  luck.  May  your  shadow  never  grow  less 
for  keeping  up  the  credit  of  the  'Frontier' 
town  for  '  clever  boys.' '  And  there  was  a  letter 
from  Southend,  also  purporting  to  come  from  a 

Newry  hoy,  en- 
closing a  postal 
order  —  a  prac- 
tical evidence  of 
sympathy. 

M  e  a  n  w  h  i  1  e 
Mrs.  James  Gill 
did  not  appear 
to  betray  much 
uneasiness  at 
her  partner's 
predi  cament, 
which  was  pro- 
bably because 
she  possessed  a 
senseofhumour. 
AVhile  in  no  way 
sympath  izing 
with  his  short- 
comings, and 
not  quite  relish- 
i  n  g  the  un- 
savoury charac- 
ter of  his  retreat, 
she  altogether 
agreed  with  her 
husband  that  to 
be  housed  at 
the  expense  of 
His  Majesty  was 
not  conducive  to 
his  dignity. 

It  was  not 
until  several 
measures  had 
been  tried  and 
failed  that  the 
police  assumed 
a  comparatively 
passive  attitude 
towards  the  outlaw.  For  instance,  they  thought 
to  starve  the  steeplejack  out,  to  trap  him,  or  to 
intimidate  him,  but  every  attempt  failed.  Then 
it  was  proposed  to  storm  the  chimney,  but  Gill's 
reply  to  this  was  that  if  any  of  them  attempted 
to  follow  him  he  would  pull  the  scaffold  down 
upon  them— a  threat  which  effectually  quashed 
the  idea.  Finally,  as  one  of  the  officers  grimly 
remarked,  the  only  thing  left  to  do  was  to  dis- 
lodge him  with  dynamite. 

One   Sunday,    when    night   had    folded    her 


'   AT   THE    -    ■■   .1      ISLAND    SALT    WORKS,    ON    THE    TOI-    OF    WH 
GILL   ESTABLISHED     HIMSELF    IN    ORDER    TO    EJ'ADE    ARI 

From  a  Photo,  by  W.  S.  Campbell. 


276 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


mantle  about  the  town,  "Jimmy"  stole-  down 
his  chimney  and  paid  a  visit  to  the  bosom  of 
his  family.  He  also  nearly  paid  the  price  of 
capture,  for  the  police  got  wind  of  his  excursion, 
and  he  had  to  employ  all  his  native  cunning  to 
evade  them,  only  reaching  his  lofty  retreat  in 
the  nick  of  time. 

At  length  there  arose  a  rumour  that  proved 
only  too  true — "Jimmy"  had  fallen  from  his 
lofty  eyrie  and  was  seriously  hurt  !  He  was 
taken  to  his  home  in  Boat  Street,  where  he  was 
attended  by  a  doctor.  The  latter  reported  a 
few  bruises  only,  but 
"Jimmy"  insisted  g 
that  he  had  frac- 
tured his  leg.  How- 
ever, on  paying  a 
visit  to  his  cottage, 
I  found  him  re- 
clining on  a  bed, 
with  his  head  and 
one  leg  in  bandages, 
and  a  peculiar 
twinkle  in  his  eye. 
I  wondered  what 
move  he  meditated 
next.  Upon  observ- 
ing that  this  was 
rather  a  painful  end- 
ing to  so  uncomfort- 
able an  experience, 
he  remarked,  "  Sure, 
'twas  worth  it !  "  I 
then  made  my  way 
to  the  police-office 
and  had  a  chat  with 
the  genial  chief  on 
the  situation.  He 
did  not  appear  to 
be  vastly  concerned 
about  it,  and,  in 
response  to  my 
inquiry  as  to  what 
the  authorities  proposed  to  do,  he  replied,  "  I 
suppose  we  shall  take  him  now  and  lodge  him 
in  the  prison  hospital." 

I  concluded,  therefore,  that  this  was  the  end 
of  the  exploit,  but  I  was  mistaken.  The 
next  thing  I  learnt  was  that  the  indefatigable 
"  Jimmy  "  had  succeeded  in  evading  the  police 
once  more  and  had  got  back  to  his  stronghold  ! 
I    then   recalled   that   twinkle    in    his    eye,   and 


HE    DECLARED    THAT    HE    COULD     NOT    POSSIBUY    BE    MOVED. 


realized   what    it    meant.     It  appears    that    the 
constables  went  to  Boat  Street  in  order  to  arrest 
the   invalid,    but    simulating   extreme  pain   and 
prostration,   and  complaining,   "Oh,    my   leg!" 
and  "  Oh,  my  head  !  "  he  declared  that  he  could 
not  possibly  be  moved.     In  consequence  of  this 
the  police  kind-heartedly  decided  to  allow  him  a 
little   more  time  to  get  better,    and    withdrew. 
This   was   enough  for  "Jimmy."     In   the  early 
hours  of  the  morning,  with  his  faithful  son  acting 
as   scout,    he   limped  forth,   and  made  his  way 
laboriously  to    the    salt    works,  which    he   suc- 
ceeded   in   reaching 
safely.      Here  he 
mounted     to    his 
perch     above     and 
proceeded   with   his 
work,     singing    and 
whistling  merrily  the 
while,   and  greeting 
the  amazed  passers- 
by   below    with    the 
announcement, 
"Jimmy's      back 
again  !  "    Once  more 
the    patient     police 
had    been    hood- 
winked. 

Astute  public 
entertainers  were 
not  long  in  seeing 
the  possibilities  of 
this  elusive  steeple- 
jack as  a  music-hall 
"draw."  As  a  result 
he  was  engaged  to 
appear  at  a  certain 
hall,  where  people 
gazed  eagerly  upon 
the  man  who  for  so 
long  had  defied  the 
might  and  majesty 
of  the  law. 
But  justice,  if  sometimes  slow,  is  sure,  and  one 
day,  while  paying  a  visit  to  his  home,  Gill  was 
quietly  arrested  by  the  long-suffering  men  in 
blue.  There  was  no  escape  for  him  this  time, 
and  recognising  the  inevitable  he  submitted 
quietly  and  went  away  to  "  do  "  the  long-deferred 
month.  But  it  will  be  many  a  day  before 
"Jimmy"  Gill  and  his  chimney  are  forgotten  in 
Newry. 


Among     the     Starovery. 

A    REMARKABLE    RUSSIAN    COMMUNITY. 

By  Francis  H.   E.   Palmer. 

Mr.     Palmer    describes    his    visit    to    a    settlement    of    Great    Russian    Starovery  —  one    of    the    most 

peculiar    sects    in    Russia.       The    photographs    illustrating    the    article    are    believed    to    be    the    only 

ones  ever  taken  of  this  fanatical  and  little-known  community. 


FEW  years  ago,  while  in  charge  of 
a  large  estate  in  one  of  the  wildest 
districts  of  White  Russia,  a  start- 
ling incident,  that  narrowly  escaped 
developing  into  a  tragedy,  enabled 
me  to  pay  a  visit  to  an  extremely  interesting; 
but  little  known,  community  of  Great  Russian 
Starovery,  dissenters  from  the  Orthodox  Church, 
who  have  been  settled  in  this  remote  part  of  the 
Empire  for  more  than  a  century  and  a  half. 
This  visit  was  the  more  interesting  to  me,  as  the 
photographs  I  was  able  to  obtain  are,  I  believe, 
the  only  ones  that  have  ever  been  taken  of 
members  of  one  of  the  most  curious  sects  in 
Russia,  which  for  generations  has  fanatically 
resented  any  intrusion  of  "  unbelievers "  into 
their  religious  or  private  affairs. 

The  estate  on  which  I  was  then  living  is 
almost  as  completely  isolated  from  the  rest  of 
the  world  for  a  great  part  of  the  year  as  though 
it  were  an  island  in  mid-ocean,  for  not  only  is 
it  about  sixty  miles  from  the  nearest  railway- 
station — that  of  Swentsiany,  on  the  main  line 
from  Konigsberg  to  St.  Petersburg — and  thirty 
miles  from  the  nearest  post  and  telegraph-office, 
but  the  roads  in  bad  weather  are  often  almost 
impassable  for  weeks  together. 

One  of  the  most  curious  features  of  the 
district— and,  indeed,  of  White  Russia  generally 
— is  the  strange  mosaic  of  races  by  which  it  is 
inhabited,  each  forming  a  separate  and  distinct 
community  and  adhering  strictly  to  its  own 
religion  and  customs,  while  clinging  no  less 
tenaciously  to  its  own  language  and  nationality. 
The  White  Russian  country  towns,  for  example, 
are  peopled  almost  exclusively  by  Jews.  In 
the  country  districts  there  are  numerous 
villages  of  Lithuanians  —  a  race  that  differs 
as  widely  from  the  Russians  as  the  Italians 
from  the  Swedes  —  and  almost  everywhere 
detached  groups  of  Polish,  Lettish,  and  even 
German  settlers  are  to  be  met  with.  Singularly 
enough,  each  of  these  nationalities  enjoys  the 
almost  complete  monopoly  of  one  or  more 
branches  of  trade,  which  members  of  the  other 
races  never  dream  of  invading.  The  trades  of 
tailoring,  shoemaking,  and  cabinet-making,  for 
instance,  with  that  of  the  painter  and  glazier, 
and  many  more,  are  the  exclusive  monopoly  of 


the  Jews.  The  blacksmiths  and  farriers  are 
nearly  all  Poles,  while  all  buildings  of  a  solid 
and  permanent  character  are  constructed  by 
Great  Russians,  belonging  to  the  Starovery 
sects,  and  only  the  simplest  unskilled  labour  is 
entrusted  to  men  of  the  White  Russian  and 
Lithuanian  races. 

As  a  result  of  this  division  of  labour  in  the 
management  of  a  large  estate,  recourse  must  be 
had  to  groups  of  men  of  half-a-dozen  different 
nationalities  for  almost  everything  that  is  done 
upon  the  property,  from  repairing  an  agricul- 
tural implement  to  building  a  new  stable  or 
mending  a  broken  window.  When  the  incident 
I  am  about  to  relate  occurred,  I  had  handed 
over  the  construction  of  a  flour-mill  to  an 
association,  or  arte/,  of  about  fifty  Starovery 
peasants  belonging  to  a  neighbouring  com- 
munity of  Great  Russians.  They  were  so  vastly 
superior,  both  physically  and  intellectually,  to 
any  of  the  other  nationalities  in  the  neighbour- 
hood that  I  was  curious  to  obtain  some  informa- 
tion about  their  religion  and  customs ;  but, 
though  their  village  was  only  a  few  miles  from 
the  borders  of  the  estate,  everything  about  them 
seemed  to  be  veiled  in  impenetrable  mystery. 
None  of  the  White  Russian  peasants  had  ever 
ventured  to  enter  the  domain  of  the  stalwart 
Starovery,  and,  indeed,  when  travelling  in  the 
vicinity  they  always  gave  them  as  wide  a  berth 
as  possible.  They  could  tell  me  nothing 
definite,  but  assured  me  that  there  was  some- 
thing uncanny,  supernatural,  almost  awe- 
inspiring  about  them,  and  that  they  were 
capable  of  every  imaginable  form  of  iniquity. 

Even  from  the  official  and  police  authorities 
I  could  learn  little  beyond  their  conviction  that 
the  popular  opinion  of  the  Starovery  was  un- 
questionably correct.  The  police  admitted  that 
it  was  quite  true  that  none  of  the  horrible 
crimes  popularly  attributed  to  them  could  ever 
be  actually  proved,  but  this  was  solely  due  to 
their  almost  supernatural  cunning.  On  the  other 
hand,  their  general  conduct  was  abnormal  and 
unnatural  for  peasants.  For  example,  they 
always  paid  their  taxes  with  absolute  regularity  ; 
they  defrauded  the  revenue  by  making  it  a  part 
of  their  religious  faith  to  abstain  from  the  use  of 
vodka,  tobacco,  and  tea ;  and  they  conformed  so 


278 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


BRANDISHING   THEIR    AXES    AND    HURLING    ULOOD-CUKDLING    MENACES    AT    THEIR    INTENDED    VICTIMS." 


rigorously  to  all  Government 
regulations  that  it  was  impos- 
sible for  the  local  police  ever 
to  catch  them  at  fault.  In 
fact,  it  was  evident  to  the 
official  mind  that  they  were 
playing  some  deep  game  that 
nobody  could  understand. 

All  this  was  decidedly 
vague,  but  one  morning  I 
witnessed  a 
startling  scene 
that  certainly 
seemed  to  con- 
firm the  univer- 
sal opinion  of 
the  Starovery. 
I  was  enjoying 
the  almost  Sab- 
bath silence  of 
a  Russian  coun- 
try house,  un- 
broken by  any 
sounds  but  the 
songs  of  the 
birds  that 
thronged  the 
grounds     and 

the  adjoining  forest,  when  I  was  startled  by  the 
roar  of  angry  voices  and  the  tramp  of  rapidly- 
approaching  feet.  Hastening  to  discover  the  cause 
of  the  uproar,  I  saw  a  troop  of  forty  or  fifty  White 
Russians,  flying  in  terror  before  the  whole  artel 
of  the  Starovery,  who,  armed  with  the  axes  they 
invariably  carry  in  their  belts,  were  hotly  pursu- 
ing them.  On  reaching  the  house  the  White 
Russians  all  crowded  against  the  wall,  ruthlessly 
trampling  upon  the  flower-beds,  and  imploring 
me  to  protect  them.  The  affair  was  unques- 
tionably a  very  serious  one,  for,  hard  as  is  the 
skull  of  an  average  moujik,  the  light  Russian 
axe,  easily  handled  and  sharp  as  a  razor,  is  a 
decidedly  dangerous  weapon.  A  good  many  of 
the  fugitives  had  already  been  rather  severely 
wounded,  while  the  rest,  crowded  close  together 
with  their  backs  to  the  wall,  prepared  to  resist 
as  best  they  might  the  renewed  attack  threatened 
by  the  Starovery.  The  latter,  who  had  hesitated 
for  a  moment  upon  my  appearance,  quickly 
formed  a  semi-circle  around  them,  brandishing 
their  axes  and  hurling  blood-curdling  menaces 
at  their  intended  victims. 

With  some  difficulty  I  prevented  the  terrified 
house-servants  from  sending  off  a  mounted 
messenger  to  call  for  the  assistance  of  the  police 
— a  useless  proceeding  in  any  case,  as  the  two  or 
three  men  at  the  nearest  police-station,  ten  miles 
away,  would  have  arrived  too  late,  besides  being 
powerless  to  cope  with  a  disturbance  of  this  kind. 


In  the  wild  confusion  that  prevailed  it  was 
impossible  to  discover  what  the  quarrel  was 
about,  but  I  was  convinced  that  nothing,  except 
some  outrage  or  insult  to  their  religion,  could 
have  plunged  the  usually  well  -  conducted 
Starovery  into  such  a  paroxysm  of  blind  fury. 
They  were  simply  mad  with  rage  ;  they  "  saw 
red,"  as  the  French  would  express  it,  and  every 
moment  I  feared  that,  in  spite  of  all  my  efforts 
to  restrain  them,  they  would  make  another  rush 
upon  the  White  Russians,  who  were  now  utterly 
panic-stricken  and  entirely  at  their  mercy.  I 
shall  not  speedily  forget  the  scene,  for  I  knew 
that,  though  the  instinctive  obedience  to 
authority,  natural  to  all  the  Russian  peasantry, 
would  enable  me  to  control  the  infuriated  Star- 
overy for  the  moment,  the  least  sign  of  hesita- 
tion on  my  part  would  have  turned  the  scale, 
and  a  horrible  massacre  would  very  probably 
have  resulted. 

At  length,  to  my  intense  relief,  some  of  the 
older  men  calmed  down  sufficiently  to  listen  to 
reason.  It  was  gradually  dawning  upon  them 
that  this  mad  outbreak  of  theirs  would  be 
regarded  by  the  police  authorities  as  a  complete 
confirmation  of  all  the  vague  accusations  that 
had  been  brought  against  them,  and  would  give 
the  local  officials  the  power  of  blackmailing  the 
whole  community  mercilessly,  under  the  threat 
of  prosecution  for  riot  and  attempted  murder 
should  they  refuse  to  submit  to  their  exactions. 


AMONG    THE    STAROVERY. 


279 


When  the  din  had  finally  subsided  I  told 
them  that  if  they  returned  to  their  village 
quietly  I  would  deal  with  the  matter  myself 
without  the  intervention  of  the  police — unless 
the  condition  of  the  unfortunate  men  they  had 
wounded  should  prove  to  be  so  serious  that  this 


^- 


STAROVERY    SI'OUNS. 


could  not  be  avoided.  At  the  same  time  I 
promised  to  see  their  Starosta,  or  chief,  the 
next  day,  and  arrange  with  him  some  way  of 
settling  the  matter  without  getting  the  whole  of 
their  community  into  trouble. 

When  at  length  they  had  taken  their  depar- 
ture   I    succeeded,    with    some    difficulty,    in 
obtaining  a   correct   version   of  the  affair.     My 
suspicion    that    the    Starovery    were    trying    to 
avenge  an  insult  to  their  religion  was,  it  appeared, 
well    founded.     It    is  a  fundamental  article  of 
belief    with    this 
peculiar    sect    that 
it    is    a    deadly  sin 
to  eat  with  anyone 
who  is  not  a  mem- 
ber   of    their    com- 
munity; while  acci- 
dentally   to    make 
use  of   a  spoon   or 
plate  that  had  been 
previously  used   by 
an  "unbeliever  " 
would  entail 
for   them  a 
long     and 
painful     pro- 
cess of  "puri- 
fication "  be- 
fore    they 
could   ven- 
ture   into 
contact  with 
their  co-religionists 
again,  or  even   en- 
gage   in    any    kind 
of  secular  work.     It 
was,    therefore,    ar- 
ranged    for     those 


who    were     working     at     the     new     mill     to 
take  their   meals  at  a  different  hour   from  the 
other   workmen.     That    morning,    however,    on 
returning   for   their   breakfast,    which    they   had 
brought   with   them   and   left   in  the  workmen's 
dining-room,  they  found  that  their  own  spoons, 
which  they  had  carefully  put  away,  had 
been  ostentatiously  placed  on  the  table 
in  a  condition   that  clearly  showed  that 
the    White     Russians,    who    were    also 
working  at   the   mill,   had    been   eating 
with   them.     The  object  of  the  White 
Russian  workmen  was  obvious  and  ex- 
ceedingly ingenious.      They  were  only 
labourers,    and,    of    course,    were    paid 
lower   wages    than    the    Starovery,   who 
were  technical  workmen.      As    it    was 
important  for  the  mill  to  be  completed 
before  the  winter,  when  the  river  would 
be    blocked    with    ice,    they    believed 
that,   if  the  Starovery  could  only  be  prevented 
from   working  for  two  or  three  weeks,  I  should 
be  compelled  to  employ  them   in  their  place, 
paying    them    at    the    rate    of    skilled    artisans. 
They  therefore  informed  their  rivals  that  they 
had  already  used  their  spoons  the  previous  day, 
and  that  as,  in  the  Starovery  belief,  it  would  be  a 
mortal  sin  to  do  any  secular  work    until    they 
had    undergone     their    purification,    they    had 
better  return  home  at  once  and  commence  it. 


"-!>;   W 


'  THEV    INFORMED    THEIR    RIVAL: 


1AT    THEV    HAD    ALREADY    USED    THEIR    SPOONS    I  S  €  I  3    DAI 


28o 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


From  a] 


"HE   ENTRANCE   TO   THE    STAKOVEKY    VILLAGE. 


The  indignation  of  the  Starovery  was  not 
altogether  unnatural,  and,  furious  at  the  trick 
that  had  been  played  them,  they  "  went  for " 
the  White  Russians,  who,  having  speedily  got 
the  worst  of  the  encounter,  fled  to  head-quarters 
for  protection. 

The  following  morning  an  hour's  drive  through 
the  forest  brought  me  to  the  domain  of  this 
mysterious  sect,  an  estate  of  about  three  thousand 
acres  of  forest,  meadow,  and  farm  land,  which  is 
the  property  of  the  community.  At  the  entrance 
of  the  estate  the  road  was  barred  by  a  solidly- 
constructed  gate,  and  here  I  found  the  Starosta, 
a  grand  -  looking  old  man  with  a  patriarchal 
beard,  who,  accompanied  by  a  deputation  of 
the  notabilities  of  the 
community,  was  waiting 
to  receive  me. 

When  the  carriage  stop- 
ped he  approached,  and, 
having  ceremoniously  bid 
me  welcome,  he  held  up 
a  curiously  -  carved  oak 
tray,  inlaid  with  silver,  of 
very  ancient  workman- 
ship, upon  which  were 
placed  bread  and  salt, 
the  offering  always  pre- 
sented by  old-world 
Russians  to  an  honoured 
guest.  My  ready  accept- 
ance of  a  morsel  of  bread 
seemed  to  afford  him 
great  relief.  It  proved 
that  I  had  come  as  a 
friend,  and  that  I  did  not 
intend  to  be  too  hard 
upon  his  people  for  their 
escapade.  From  a 


In  a  very  few 
minutes  we  came 
in  sight  of  the 
village,  which,  as 
usual  in  Russia, 
consisted  of  tim- 
ber-built, straw- 
thatched  izbas, 
clustered  closely 
together  on  each 
side  of  the  road. 
A  glance  sufficed 
to  show  that  the 
inhabitants  were 
far  more  prosper- 
ous and  thrifty 
than  their  White 
Russian  neigh- 
bours. Their 
dwellings  were 
all  solidly  built,  many  with  neat  little  gardens  in 
front,  and  there  was  a  complete  absence  of  the 
dirt  and  squalid  poverty  that  are  so  painfully 
striking  a  feature  in  most  Russian  villages. 

The  Starosta's  house  was  one  of 'the  most 
important  in  the  place.  It  contained  six  large 
rooms,  one  of  which  opened  into  the  stable,  the 
cow-house,  and  the  barn,  which  were  placed 
behind,  and  formed  part  of  the  building.  A 
stairway  led  down  to  the  underground  ice- 
chamber,  where  provisions  are  stored  in  summer. 
The  furniture,  all  home-made,  was  solid  and 
evidently  very  old,  and  some  of  the  smaller 
objects,  richly  carved  cabinets  and  curiously- 
painted    boxes,   inlaid  with   bronze,    which   had 


[Photo. 


rhoto. 


AMONG    THE    STAROVERY. 


281 


been  brought  from  Moscow  by  the  founders  of 
the  community  more  than  a  century  and  a  half 
ago,  were  really  of  considerable  value,  not- 
withstanding the  extreme  simplicity  of  their 
surroundings. 

"The  (ihospodeen  must  not  think  that  we  are 
inhospitable,"  said  the  Starosta,  pressing  me  to 
take  some  refreshments  that  had  been  prepared 
for  me,  "  though  it  is  true  that  our  faith  will  not 
permit  us  to  eat  with  those  who  are  not  of  our 
religion,  which  is  dearer  to  us  than  life  itself. 
All  the  trouble  yesterday  was  due  to  some  of 
our  people  resenting  somewhat  too  vehemently 
an  abominable  insult  to  our  religious  belief." 


"YES,    GHOSPODEEN  !'   CKIED   THE   STAROSTA,    STARTING   TO    HIS    FEET    AND    RAISING 
HIS    HANDS    LIKE   AN    INSPIRED    PROPHET   OF   OLD." 


,    "  Will    you   tell   me    something    about    your 
religion  and  customs  ?  "  I  inquired. 

"  Most  gladly,"  replied  the  Starosta,  "  but  I 
must  first  explain  why  people  call  us  '  Starovery  ' 
-  or  Old  Believers.  One  Nicone,  a  Patriarch 
of  the  Orthodox  Russian  Church,  made  a  new 
translation  of  the  Bible,  about  two  hundred 
years  ago,  which  was  different  in  many  ways 
from  the  one  that  our  fathers  had  used  before. 
This  was  a  great  shock  to  all  true  Russians,  but 
worse  was  to  come.  Soon  after,  the  bishops 
betrayed  us  to  please  the  Czar.  They  actually 
dared  to  make  alterations  in  the  liturgy  of 
our  Church ;  and  at  length  the  Czar  Peter 
ordered  us  to  abandon   many  of  our  national 

Vol.  xiv.— 36. 


customs  which  are  a  part  of  our  religion.  The 
Bible,  for  example,  forbids  us  to  cut  the  corners 
of  our  beards.  The  Czar  Peter  commanded 
us  to  shave  it  off  altogether !  Thousands  of  our 
people  were  imprisoned  and  flogged  for  refusing 
to  obey.  At  last,  Ghospodeen,  we  discovered 
why  all  these  misfortunes  had  befallen  us.  The 
Czar,  who  was  bent  upon  destroying  the  ancient 
religion  and  customs  of  Holy  Russia,  took  a 
new  title.  He  proclaimed  himself  Emperor 
(Imperator).  The  letters  that  make  up  that 
word  also  represent,  in  our  sacred  old 
Slavonic,  a  certain  fatal  number  —  666  — 
the  number  of  the  Beast ! 

"Yes,  Ghospodeen!"  cried 
the  Starosta,  starting  to  his 
feet  and  raising  his  hands  like 
an  inspired  prophet  of  old. 
"  Yes,  we  knew  then  that  the 
reign  of  Antichrist  had  begun 
on  earth.  There  was  nothing 
for  the  faithful  to  do  but  to 
flee  away  into  the  wilderness. 
Tens  of  thousands  quitted  their 
homes,  and,  abandoning  every- 
thing that  they  could  not  carry 
away  with  them,  they  wandered 
into  the  vast  forests  in  the 
north  and  west,  and  formed 
new  communities  or  skyti  (her- 
mitages), where  they  dwelt, 
waiting  for  the  coming  of  the 
New  Jerusalem.  For  genera- 
tions we  were  hunted  from 
place  to  place  by  the  soldiers 
of  the  Czar,  but  in  spite  of 
persecutions  all  the  Starovery 
communities  have  prospered, 
and  members  of  our  faith  are 
•  now  among  the  richest  men  in 
the  Empire.  We,  in  this  com- 
munity, are  all  descendants  of 
a  party  of  the  faithful  who  took 
refuge  in  White  Russia,  then 
a  province  of  Poland.  They  were  not  peasants, 
but  wealthy  merchants  in  Moscow.  Part  of  their 
gold  they  were  able  to  bring  with  them,  and 
with  it  they  bought  this  estate,  which  we,  their 
children,  have  kept  ever  since  as  a  sacred 
charge. 

"See  here,  Ghospodeen,"  he  added,  taking  an 
enormous  leather- bound  volume  from  under  a 
table  in  the  corner  of  the  room,  upon  which 
were  placed  several  of  their  most  sacred  icons. 
"This  is  the  register  of  our  people.  Ever  since 
they  left  Moscow  not  one  member  of  our  com- 
munity has  married  a  stranger.  We  are  now  all 
near  blood  relations." 

It  would  indeed  have  been  no  easy  mat*eV  to 


282 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


unravel  the  complicated  genealogies  which  re- 
sulted from  this  custom,  but  the  splendid 
physique  of  all  the  Starovery  was  in  striking 
contradiction  to  the  generally  accepted  theory  of 
the  evils  resulting  from  long-continued  inter- 
marriages in  a  small  community.  Probably  their 
extremely  simple  and  abstemious  mode  of 
living  contributes  as  much  to  their  physical  as  it 
certainly  does  to  their  material  well-being.  Not 
only  do  they  refrain  from  touching  vodka,  tea, 
sugar,  and  tobacco,  but  every  other  article  of  food 
that  has  been  introduced  into  Russia  since  the 
dawn  of  the  "reign  of  Antichrist." 

"  Yes,  we  are  fairly  prosperous,"  said  the 
Starosta,  after  giving  me  all  these  details, 
"though  our  land  could  not  now  nearly  main- 
tain us  all.  Every  winter,  however,  a  number  of 
our  men  go  away  for  six  months,  some  as  far  as 


the  great  world  they  are  supposed  to  conform  to 
the  State  Orthodox  Church,  but  we  know  that 
they  are  still  faithful  at  heart.  They  have  all 
married  members  of  our  community  ;  they  have 
all  their  births,  marriages,  and  deaths  recorded 
in  this  book,  and  at  least  once  every  year  they 
come  to  the  old  home  to  pray  before  the  sacred 
icons  that  we  keep  in  our  village  church." 

"  Then  your  community  is  not  entirely 
dependent  upon  your  property  here  ? "  I  re- 
marked. 

"  By  no  means.  We  who  are  here  divide  the 
proceeds  of  the  estate  equally  among  all  the 
families  that  are  working  upon  it.  But  every 
member  of  our  community,  wherever  he  may  be 
— some  are  now  in  America — is  bound  to  pay  a 
certain  percentage  of  his  fortune  into  a  fund 
which,  like  the  land,  belongs  to  us  in  common. 


From  a 


THE  STAROVERY  GOVERNMENT  HOUSE. 


{Photo. 


Moscow,  and  many  earn  there  more  than 
enough  to  keep  their  families  the  whole  year 
through.  I  am  afraid,"  he  added,  shaking  his 
head  gravely,  and  glancing  with  a  merry  twinkle 
in  his  eye  at  a  stalwart  young  fellow  who  was 
standing  sheepishly  beside  a  young  girl  in  the 
doorway,  "  that  some  of  our  younger  men  are 
not  so  strict  as  they  ought  to  be  in  their  religious 
duties  when  they  are  away,  especially  as  regards 
tobacco  and  vodka.  Many  who  left  us  in 
former  times  are  now  prosperous  merchants, 
manufacturers,  doctors,  or  engineers.  The 
descendants  of  two  who  left  here  about  eighty 
years  ago  are  very  wealthy  bankers  in  Moscow 
and  St.  Petersburg.  But,  all  the  same,  they 
have  kept  up  their  connection  with  the  sacred 
skyt  which  our  forefathers  established  here.     In 


This  now  amounts  to  a  very  large  sum,  and  for 
safety  we  have  invested  it  abroad,  part  of  it 
in  England.  When  money  is  needed  to  help 
any  of  our  people — to  start  a  young  man  in  life, 
for  instance  —  we  can  draw  on  the  yearly 
revenue,  but  we  cannot  touch  the  capital. 
There  are  consequently  no  poor  among  us. 
Every  man  is  obliged  to  learn  two  trades,  even 
if  he  is  the  son  of  a  wealthy  banker  or  merchant. 
For  instance,  nearly  all  our  men  here  are 
builders,  but  each  has  also  learned  another 
trade — a  locksmith's,  saddler's,  or  shoemaker's. 
This  doubles  his  chances  of  earning  good  wages 
if  he  decides  to  leave  the  village,  and  wherever 
he  goes  our  richer  brothers  are  bound  to  help 
him.  If  he  is  steady  he  soon  becomes  a  master 
on   his  own  account.     We   do    not   allow   our 


AMONG    THE    ST  ARC  VERY. 


283 


From  n] 


rHK    CROWD   OK    STAROVERY   OUTSIDE   THflR    CHURCH. 


[Photo. 


children  to  go  to  a  Government  elementary 
school,  but  all  are  taught  to  read  and  write, 
and  also  their  father's  trade  at  home. 
When  any  boy  is  exceptionally  intelligent 
we  send  him  to  one  of  our  richer  brothers  in 
Moscow,  and  our  synod  there  draws  what 
money  is  needed  for  his  education  from  our 
general   fund.     This  he   is    bound  to  pay  back 


see   our   church   and   the   sacred  icons  ?     We 
have  never  shown  them  to  strangers  before." 

Outside  the  church  I  found  a  crowd  of  the 
Starovery,  who  gave  me  a  hearty  welcome. 
The  church  itself  is  a  modern  construction. 
The  original  one,  in  which  their  forefathers  had 
lovingly  reproduced  all  the  most  striking 
features    of    the    church     in    which    they    had 


From  a] 


THE   INTERIOR   OF    THE   CHURCH. 


when  he  is  able.  Five  of  our  boys  are  now 
being  educated  in  this  way,  three  as  engineers 
and  two  as  doctors. 

"  And  now,  Ghospodeen,  would  you  like  to 


worshipped  in  Moscow  "  before  the  days  of 
Antichrist,"  was  burned  accidentally  many  years 
ago,  and  the  Government  would  not  allow  them 
to  replace  it  by  any  building  having  an  ecclesi- 


284 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


astical  appearance.  It  is,  therefore,  of  the  same 
form  as  an  ordinary  izba,  and  only  large  enough 
to  give  standing  room  for  about  two  hundred 
people. 

They  had  no  objection  to  my  taking  a  photo- 
graph of  the  interior,  a  matter  of  considerable 
difficulty,  however,  from  "•  the  want  of  light. 
Over  the  altar  are  placed  the  religious  pictures 
and  icons  which  they  brought  with  them  from 
Moscow,  and  regard  as  their  most  valuable 
treasures.  Wealthy  Starovery  will  often  pay  a 
thousand  pounds  and  more  for  a  rudely  painted 
icon  when  it  is  known  to  have  been  painted 
"  before  the  days  of  Antichrist." 

Their  religious  service,  to  which  "  unbelievers" 
are  hardly  ever  admitted,  is  exceedingly  curious. 
There  are  two  branches  of  the  Starovery  in 
Russia,  one  of  which  recognises  the  regular 
ecclesiastical  hierarchy,  while  the  other,  to 
which  the  community  I  visited  belongs, 
refuses  to  admit  the  validity  of  a  priesthood 
that  accepted  the  alterations  in  the  liturgy 
that  they  resent.  In  their  belief  the  "  silver 
thread "  is  broken  ;  the  Apostolic  succession 
is  irrevocably  lost,  and  they  must  wait  in 
patient  resignation  till  the  "  reign  of  Anti- 
christ "  gives  place  to  the  "  New  Jerusalem." 
In  their  religious  services  they  believe 
that  they  may  not  alter  one  word  of  the 
liturgy  of  the  Orthodox  Church  as  it  was  cele- 
brated in  the  days  gone  by.  Those  parts  only, 
therefore,  which  a  layman  may  read  are  read 
and  chanted  by  the  Starosta  and  elders.  On 
reaching  those  portions  of  the  service  which  a 
priest  only  can  pronounce  there  is  a  pause,  and 
in  the  dead  silence  that  ensues  the  congregation, 
who  all  know  by  heart  what  the  priest  would 
have  said  had  a  priest  been  left  on  earth,  listen 
reverently  for  the  words  that  no  human  voice 
can  bring  to  their  ears,  and  then  rings  out  the 
earnest,  fervent  response.  The  effect  produced 
by  the  deep,  rich  voices  of  the  congregation, 
alternating  with  intervals  of  intense  silence,  is 
extremely  impressive  and  almost  eerie. 

Before  I  left  this  curious  community  I*was  ' 
able  to  make  an  arrangement  with  the  Starosta 
respecting  the  "  Battle  of  the  Spoons,"  for  which 
his  people  were  sincerely  gratefuj.     I  consented 


to  suspend  work  at  the  mill  for  a  few  days,  until 
an  abbreviated  form  of  purification  enabled  the 
men  to  resume  their  secular  labours,  while  the 
community  undertook  to  give  the  wounded 
White  Russians  liberal  pecuniary  compensation 
for  the  injuries  they  had  sustained.  Revenge  is 
sweet  ;  but  sweeter  yet  to  the  sadly-damaged 
White  Russian  moujiks  was  the  reflection  that, 
though  their  plot  against  the  Starovery  had 
failed  so  ignominiously,  and  I  had  refused  to 
allow  the  affair  to  be  dealt  with  by  -the  police, 
the  compensation  they  were  to  receive  would 
supply  them  with  vodka  ad  libitum  for  at  least 
a  fortnight  as  soon  as  their  wounds  were 
healed. 

Of  the  sincerity  of  the  Starovery  in  their 
curious  religious  beliefs  there  can  be  no  doubt ; 
but  the  contrast  between  their  fanatical  devotion 
to  childish  ceremonies  in  their  religion  and 
their  thoroughly  practical-  character  in  all  mun- 
dane affairs  is  very  striking.  There  are  more 
than  twenty  different  sects  of  the  Starovery  in 
the  Empire,  divided  into  the  two  groups  I  have 
mentioned  —  the  Popovtsy,  who  believe  that 
the  priests  of  the  Orthodox  Church,  though 
themselves  heretical,  have  nevertheless  main- 
tained the  Apostolic  succession  ;  and  the 
Bezpopovtsy,  who  maintain  that  this  succes- 
sion was  irrevocably  destroyed  by  the  "heresy" 
of  the  eighteenth  century,  and  that  conse- 
quently there  are  now  no  priests  or  bishops  on 
earth.  Their  total  number  is  estimated  at  from 
three  to  five  millions  in  all  Russia,  and  they 
are  -increasing  rapidly,  as  their  families  are 
always  very  numerous,  and  the  mortality  among 
their  children  is  far  less  than  among  the 
Orthod6x  Russians.  Apart  from  their  organiz- 
ation for  the  aid  of  their  poorer  brethren,  the 
rich  Starovery  merchants  and  bankers  are 
munificent  supporters  of  a  great  number  of 
charities  and  hospitals  for  the  benefit  of  the 
nation  generally  ;  and  in  spite  of  their  religious 
fanaticism  there  is  no  doubt  that  these  Russian 
dissenters,  from  their  wealth  and  intelligence, 
will  play  an  important,  part  in  the  future  of  the 
Empire,  should  sorre  form  of  constitutional 
government  ever  gi\;e  the  Russian  people  a  voice 
in  the  management  of  the  affairs  of  the  nation. 


Kidnapping    a    President. 

By  Wilson  Woodbridge. 

Being  a  fragment  of  history  from  the  sanguinary  annals  of  the  turbulent    Republic  of   San  Domingo. 

While  in  the  West   Indies  in    1896  the  author  heard  this  stirring  story  from   the  lips  of   the  chief  actor 

therei.  — a  man  who   headed  fifteen   revolutions  ere  he  gained  the  Presidential  chair. 


T  was  the  summer  of  1896,  and  I 
was  staying  on  the  little  island  of 
New  Providence,  in  the  Bahamas. 

The  chief  street  of  Nassau,  the 
capital  of  the  Bahamas,  is  a  pretty 
sight  at  any  time  of  the  day,  and  especially  in 
the  bright  morning  sunshine,  when  the  pave- 
ments are  thronged  with  both  white  and  black 
folk,  laughing,  talking,  and  shopping.  I  was 
strolling  down  this  thoroughfare  one  baking 
morning,  admiring  the  wealth  of  colour,  and 
commenting  to  my  com- 
panion on  the  diversity 
of  the  types  of  mankind 
that  could  be  seen. 

"Yes,  it  is  all  very 
well  for  you,"  he  said, 
"  but  wait  until  you  have 
to  live  your  life  in  a 
place  like  this.  Then  I 
guarantee  that  you  will 
not  be  so  much  in  love 
with  the  niggers  and  the 
beautiful  tropical  colour- 
ing." 

"  At  any  rate,  I  am 
in  love  with  it  now,"  I 
laughed.  "  But  what  is 
the  matter  ?  Look  at 
that  crowd  round  the 
police-court." 

Hurrying  across  the 
street,  my  friend  peered 
in  at  the  window,  and  I 
followed  his  example. 
The  room  was  crowded. 
The  prisoner  in  the  dock 
was  a  huge  half  -  caste, 
with  a  face  that  attracted 
me  at  once  by  its  power 
and  determination. 

"Only  a  nigger  being 
tried  ! "  announced  my 
friend,  cheerfully.  "  Let's 
go  sailing." 

But  I  excused  myself,  for  I  felt  interested  in 
the  man  before  me,  and  determined  to  find  out 
more  about  him  and  his  offence.  The  Fates 
favoured  me.  I  recognised  in  the  lawyer 
defending   the   prisoner   a   man    I    had    been 


THE    PKISONER    IN    THE    DOCK    WAS   A    HUGE    HALF-CASTE. 


introduced  to  at  the  local  club,  and  to  whom  I 
had  taken  a  fancy — Burnham  by  name. 

He  nodded  to  me  as  he  saw  my  face  at  the 
window,  and  whispered  to  a  small  boy,  who 
came  round  and  asked  me  to  wait  a  minute,  as 
he  would  be  free  almost  immediately.  I  bowed 
assent,  and  leaning  my  arms  on  the  window- 
ledge  prepared  to  follow  the  trial,  but  to  my 
disappointment  there  was  at  that  moment  a 
movement  in  the  court.  The  monotonous  voice, 
which  had  been  droning  on,  ceased. 

"The  case  is  ad- 
journed." 

There  was  a  question 
of  bail.  The  prisoner 
leaned  over  the  rail  and 
spoke  to  his  counsel 
rapidly  and  emphatically. 
From  where  I  stood  1 
could  hear  him  distinctly, 
and  was  surprised  to  find 
that  he  was  decidedly 
against  the  prospect  of 
bail.  He  did  not  wish 
it.  At  a  signal  from  the 
man  stationed  at  the 
door  a  carriage  drove  up, 
and  while  a  band  of 
mounted  constables  sur- 
rounded it  the  negro 
hurried  in,  and  was 
driven  off  to  the  prison 
over  the  hill.  I  waited 
a  few  minutes  for  Burn 
ham,  and  then  we  strolled 
off  in  the  direction  of 
his  office. 

"  Is  it  an  interesting 
case  ?  "  I  queried.  "  The 
man's  face  interested  me, 
and  surely  it  is  rather 
unusual  for  a  prisoner  to 
refuse  bail  and  prefer 
being  locked  up  ?  " 

B  u  r  n  h  a  m  laughed. 
"  Well,  I  don't  know,"  he  said.  "  Probably 
Jiminiez  thinks  himself  safer  locked  in  the  calm 
seclusion  of  a  prison  cell,  while  that  war-ship 
remains  in  harbour." 

I  followed  his  gaze  across  the  wharf,  where, 


286 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


lying  white  and  dazzling  on  the  turquoise  water, 
lay  a  trim  little  gun-boat  flying  the  San 
Domingan   flag. 

"  That  war-ship  ?  "  I  echoed.  "  If  it  is  not  an 
impertinent  question — what  is  the  connection?" 

"That  is  just  what  I  am  not  sure  of,"  replied 
my  friend.  "  Look  here,  Woodbridge,  you  are 
a  writer,  aren't  you  ?  How  would  you  like  to 
come  along  and  hear  what  old  Jiminiez  has  to 
say  for  himself?  It's  a  romance  in  itself,  from 
what  I  can  make  out.  Anyhow,  it  is  sure  to  be 
interesting.  I  am  going  up  to  the  prison  now. 
Will  you  come  ?  " 

Needless  to  say,  I  did  not  hesitate  long  over 
my  answer,  and,  hailing  a  passing  carriage,  we 
drove  off  to  the  big  white  prison. 

After  a  few  formalities  we  were  soon  passed 
in,  and  a  warder  conducted  us  along  a  dark, 
cool  passage  to  a  door,  outside  which  a  couple 
of  soldiers  were  stationed.  The  warder  inserted 
a  key  in  the  lock,  threw  open  the  door,  and 
motioned  us  in.  The  room  was  bare  and 
severely  ugly.  The  man  I  had  seen  in  the 
dock  sat  on  a  wooden  chair  beside  the  table, 
his  head  resting  on  his  hands,  gazing  moodily 
at  the  blank  wall  opposite.  The  door  closed 
with  a  dreary  clang  and  the  prisoner  started  to 
his  feet.  The  lawyer  greeted  him  formally, 
while  his  eyes  scanned  him,  full  of  suspicion. 
I  was  then  introduced  carelessly  as  "my  friend 
who  takes  an  interest  in  your  case.  You  may 
speak  before  him  quite  openly." 

Jiminiez  gave  me  a  graceful  bow  and  looked 
inquiringly  at  his  lawyer,  who,  seating  himself  on 
another  wooden  chair,  motioned  me  to  do 
likewise. 

"  Look  here,  Jiminiez,"  he  said,  "  you  have 
engaged  me  to  defend  you,  and -" 

"  And  my  case  could  not  be  in  better  hands," 
interrupted  the  nigger.     His  accent  was  peculiar 
—broken    American,     with     a    strong    Erench 
intonation. 

"  That's  as  it  may  be,  but  I  want  you  to 
understand  one  thing." 

"  Yes,  sehor." 

"  Don.'t  '  sehor '  me,  and  don't  weary  me 
with  your  politenesses  and  diplomacy.  I  want  a 
straight  talk  with  you." 

This  plain  speaking  did  not  disturb  the 
listener  in  the  least ;  he  merely  shifted  his 
position  and  smiled. 

"  When  you  asked  me  to  act  for  you  in  this 
matter,"  continued  Burnham,  "you  gave  me  to 
understand  that  it  was  a  simple  and  straight- 
forward one.  Now,  remember,  I  don't  care  if  it 
is  or  if  it  isn't,  but  what  I  must  know,  and  what 
I  intend  to  know  if  I  go  on  with  your  case,  is 
this  :  Have  you  told  me  all  there  is  to  tell  ?  Do 
you  intend  to  be  perfectly  open  with  me  or  not? 


I  can't  work  for  you  if  I  am  in  the  dark  myself; 
I  shall  only  be  running  against  snags.  Will  you 
tell  me  the  whole  yarn  from  beginning  to  end 
and  let  me  do  the  best  I  can  ?  It  seems  to  be 
panning  out  a  big  job,  and  I  won't  take  it  on 
until  I  know  all  the  details." 

The  nigger  remained  silent,  an  expression  of 
dogged  obstinacy  on  his  face.  The  lawyer 
sighed  impatiently  and,  taking  out  some  papers 
from  his  bag,  rapidly  sorted  out  what  he 
required. 

"  Listen,"  he  said.  "  This  is  all  I  know 
officially."  He  paused  at  the  word  "  officially  " 
and  looked  at  the  man  opposite,  who  raised  his 
eyebrows  but  said  nothing.  "  On  such  and 
such  a  day  your  boat  was  seized,  and  you  and 
your  crew  were  brought  here  prisoners,  to  be 
tried  by  the  laws  of  the  country  for  bearing 
arms  against  a  foreign  country  whilst  in  neutral 
waters.  Also  for  taking  a  man  as  pilot  from 
one  of  these  islands  and  compelling  him, 
against  his  will,  to  sail  with  you  on  this  filibus- 
tering cruise. 

"  When  the  boat  was  searched  no  arms  were 
found,  and  as  there  was  only  circumstantial 
evidence  and  the  word  of  h  ilf-a-dozen  coloured 
men  to  go  on,  it  seemed  to  me  a  comparatively 
easy  matter  to  get  you  off.  So  it  would  have 
been  had  that  been  all  ;  but  I  find  you  have 
lied  to  me." 

The  half-caste  lighted  a  cigarette  and  pushed 
the  packet  across  the  table. 

"  You  know  there  is  a  San  Domingan  war- 
ship in  the  harbour  ?  "  continued  the  lawyer. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Jiminiez. 

"  Well,  the  captain  reports  that  you  have 
been  trying  to  lead  a  revolution  in  that  island. 
He  says  that  you  landed  there  a  fortnight  ago 
and,  with  your  crew,  nearly  succeeded  in  carry- 
ing off  the  President." 

"  Yes  ?  " 

"  And  that  through  some  hitch  in  your  plans 
you  were  obliged  to  fly  to  your  boat,  leaving  half 
your  crew  behind  to  be  cut  to  pieces  by  the  San 
Domingan  soldiers." 

"  Dogs  !  "  flashed  the  listener. 

"  Well,  the  upshot  of  it  is  that  your  President 
has  sent  to  our  Governor  asking  him  to  deliver 
you  to  him." 

A  strained  look  came  into  the  prisoner's  eyes. 

"  Yes  ?     And  the  Governor  ?  " 

"  At  present  has  refused.  The  war-ship  leaves 
to-night,  and  will  return  with  the  rest  of  the  fleet 
and  the  President  himself." 

The  man's  breath  came  in  hard  gasps  and 
the  perspiration  dropped  from  his  brow. 

"  Heareaux  ?     Heareaux  himself?  " 

"  Yes,"  went  on  the  lawyer,  mercilessly  ;  "and 
you  know  he  will  not  do  that  for  nothing  !  " 


KIDNAPPING    A    PRESIDENT. 


287 


Jiminiez  threw  up  his  head  defiantly. 

"  Let  him  come  !  "  he  said.  "  He  cannot 
touch  me  here.  He  is  merciless.  So  am  I.  I 
will  escape  him  yet !  " 

I  observed  that  his  cigarette  had  gone  out, 
and  offered  him  another.  He  took  it  with  a 
word  of  murmured  thanks,  but  his  hand  shook 
so  that  he  could  hardly  light  it. 

"  And  that  is  not  all,"  went  on  Burnham.  "  An 
American  yacht  came  in  to-day." 

"  Well,  there  are  many  here." 

"  Yes,  but  this  one  carried  some  curious  pas- 
sengers.    Eight  hard,  busy  New  York  business 
men — and   they 
have    not   come 
here    for     plea- 
sure !  " 

A  light  came 
into  Jiminiez's 
eyes. 

"  Poor  fools  ! 
They  think  they 
lick  creation, 
those  business 
men     of     New 


one  so  cold  and  reproachful.  Send  to  me  one 
whose  heart  beats  like  mine  for  his  home  and 
country  ;  send  to  me  one  whose  blood  boils  at 
the  wrongs  done  to  his  fellow-citizens — a  patriot, 

a  man  with  a  soul  of  fire " 

So  carried  away  was  I  by  his  enthusiasm  that 
the  calm  voice  of  his  counsel  came  upon  me,  as 
upon  him,  like  a  cold-water  douche. 

"Sit  down,  man,  and  don't  be  a  fool.  There 
is  not  another  lawyer  on  the  island  who  would 
look  at  your  case,  and,  at  any  rate,  I  must  see 
this  pilot  business  through." 

"  Curse  that  pilot  !  "  said  Jiminiez.  "  If  I 
had  done  as  I  wanted  and  put  a 
bullet  through  his  head  when  he 
whimpered  for  home,  I  should  not 
have  been  here  now  !  " 


HIS    VOICE   CHANGED    TO    TONES   OP    FIERCE    ANGER. 


York.  But  they  can't  lick  Jiminiez  !  And  what 
may  they  want  ?  " 

"You  know  as  well  as  I  do,  Jiminiez.  They, 
too,  want  you  1  They  accuse  you  of  having  got 
a  ship  and  arms  from  them  under  false  pre- 
tences, saying  that  you  were  going  to  help  the 
Cubans  !  " 

Jiminiez  laughed  softly. 

"  Ah  !  Certainly  I  am  safest  in  this  beautiful 
white  prison,  where  the  gates  are  so  strong  and 
the  walls  so  high  !  "  Then  his  voice  changed 
to  tones  of  fierce  anger.  "  Yes,  Burnham,  I 
will  tell  you But,  no  !     I  cannot  speak  to 


I  shuddered  at  the  vindictive  cruelty  in  the 
man's  voice,  but  the  lawyer  went  on  calmly. 

"Well,  decide  quickly.  Either  you  tell  me 
all  or  I  give  up  the  case." 

Jiminiez  walked  to  the  door  and  back,  then 
sat  down  in  his  old  position. 

"Yes.  I  will  tell  you  all,  and  then  you  must 
save  me,  and  I  will  pay  you  so  that  you  will 
never  want  again.  I  am  a  rich  man,  a  very  rich 
man,  and  a  great  banker.  I  own  much  land  in 
San  Domingo  and  much  money  in  America,  and 
I  will  sign  a  paper  giving  you  any  sum  you  like 
to  name  provided  you  get  me  away  from  here  ! 


288 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


The  faintest  smile  crossed  Burnha.m's  face, 
and  a  glint  came  into  his  eye. 

"  Fire  away,  then,"  he  said,  "  and,  remember, 
the  whole  truth  this  time!"  And  this  is  the 
tale  Jiminiez  told  : — 

I  am  what  you  call  a  Revolutionist,  and 
ought  to  know  how  to  play  the  game,  for  this 
is  the  fourteenth  time  I  have  tried  my  luck. 
Some  day  I  shall  succeed,  and  Jiminiez  will  be 
President  of  San  Domingo. 

I  had  planned  this  last  attempt  for  months, 
and  the  Fates  seemed  to  be  playing  into  my 


"They  know  I  can  do  it  if  any  man  can," 
said  he  to  me,  "and  some  day  soon  I  shall  take 
up  a  crew,  show  my  papers,  and  make  my  pile." 

I  decided  the  man  was  "  talking  through  his 
hat,"  so  to  speak,  and  should  not  have  thought 
of  his  yarn  again  had  it  not  happened  that  the 
very  next  evening,  while  I  was  drinking  in  a 
saloon  by  the  wharf,  a  row  arose,  and  before  I 
knew  what  was  up  there  was  shooting,  and  the 
next  moment  I  saw  my  little  friend  carried  out 
as  dead  as  a  door-nail. 

Then  his  yarn  came  back  to  me,  and  I  just 
went  to  his  lodgings  and  got  hold  of  his  papers 


1  A    ROW   AROSE. 


hands,  for  at  the  beginning  I  had  the  biggest 
piece  of  luck  you  can  imagine.  My  own  island 
was  too  hot  for  me  in  many  ways,  and  I  was 
stopping  at  Key  West  in  Florida.  One  day  I 
got  talking  to  an  old  coloured  man,  and  he  told 
me  a  queer  story  about  himself. 

He  said  he  had  run  many  a  cargo  of  arms 
and  ammunition  from  the  northern  ports  to 
Cuba,  and  that  though  he  had  never  been  to 
New  York  himself,  yet  there  were  people  there 
— and  he  told  me  their  names-rwho  were 
willing,  whenever  he  presented  himself,  to  trust 
him  with  a  fine  little  steam  yacht  and  a  cargo  of 
rifles  and  ammunition,  and  to  pay  him  hand: 
somely  for  running  them  into  Cuba  without 
being  caught  by  the  Spaniards. 


— all  that  I  could  lay  hands  on.  You  never 
know  how  useful  a  dead  man's  papers  may  be 
when  you  are  on  a  job  like  mine. 

The  following  day  an  idea  came  to  me,  and 
the  very  next  ship  that  left  that  port  for  New 
York  carried  among  its  passengers  myself  and  a 
crew  of  old  friends  and  patriots  who  were 
willing  to  risk  their  lives  for  their  country. 

Well,  things  were  even  easier  than  I  imagined 
they  would  be.  As  "John  Jones,"  with  papers 
to  prove  my  identity,  the  syndicate  of  New  York 
business  men  gave  me  everything  I  wished  or 
desired.  What  that  boat  must  have  cost 
them  !  The  up-to-date  guns  and  rifles  they 
filled  her  with  would  have  made  any  soldier's 
eye  glisten^ 


KIDNAPPING    A    PRESIDENT. 


289 


They  gave  a  dinner  the  night  before  I  sailed, 
and  the  number  of  messages  I  was  given  to 
friends  in  Cuba  was  enough  to  sink  the  ship. 
I  took  them  all  and  cleared  out,  and  never 
touched  anywhere  until  we  reached  Inagua. 

I  had  told  the  Americans  to  have  the  ship's 
papers  made  out  to  the  capital  of  San  Domingo, 
as  Cuba  would  then  be  in  the  direct  course  and 
we  should  be  all  right  if  stopped  by  any  meddle- 
some war-ships.  Money  being  plentiful,  it  was 
not  difficult  to  persuade  a  man  from  Inagua  to 
pilot  us  through  the  dangerous  channels  to  San 
Domingo.  He  little  knew  our  errand  when  he 
signed  on,  and  when  I  at  last  told  him  our 
game  he  struck.  But  we  held  a  persuading 
pistol  to  his  head  for  twelve  mortal  hours,  and 
warned  him  that  if  he  did  not  get  us  in  we 
should  shoot — and  we  would  have,  too  ! 

We  dropped  in  at  dead  of  night,  and  lay  just 
off  the  palace  gardens.  The  President  had  a 
fete  on,  and  between  the  dances  the  guests 
walked  in  the  garden.  We  landed  in  a  couple 
of  row-boats  without  being  seen  and  hid  among 
the  bushes.  I  knew  that  I  should  soon  find 
some  friend  of  mine  among  the  guests,  and  as 
it  turned  out  I  was  right.  One  of  the  first 
persons  I  saw  was  a  girl,  who  would  have  been 
President  herself  years  ago  if  only  she  had  been 
a  man  !  As  it  was,  however,  she  was  one  of  my 
best  helpers,  but  so  secretly  that  not  a  soul  knew 
of  it,  or  even  guessed  it.  For  she  had  estab- 
lished herself  as  one  of  President  Heareaux's 
many  "  friends  "  who,  in  return  for  a  comfortable 
income,  inform  him  of  all  secret  matters  they 
are  able  to  discover.  Oh,  he  is  a  clever  man  is 
Heareaux  !  But  Jiminiez  is  just  as  clever  !  And 
two  can  play  at  the  same  game. 

As  I  was  saying,  one  of  the  first  people  to 
appear  in  the  garden  wras  this  girl.  She  came 
down  the  path  laughing  and  talking  with  her 
partner,  and  stood  leaning  over  the  sea-wall 
admiring  the  phosphorescent  gleam  in  the  water 
below.  Presently  she  turned  and  looked  towards 
the  palace.  The  man  was  idly  dropping  stones 
into  the  water,  and,  his  back  being  turned,  I 
took  the  opportunity  to  step  out  from  behind 
the  bush  and  attract  her  attention.  She  saw 
me,  and  for  the  moment  seemed  horror-struck. 
Then  she  nodded  and  I  disappeared. 

The  strains  of  music  came  from  the  palace, 
the  man  by  her  side  offered  her  his  arm,  and 
they  strolled  back  to  the  dancing-room.  The 
minutes  passed — how  long  it  seemed  ! — and  then 
I  saw  her  sauntering  down  the  path,  this  time 
alone.  As  soon  as  I  was  certain  that  all  was 
safe  I  crept  out  to  her. 

"  We  thought  you  were  dead  !"  she  whispered. 

"  Not  yet,"  I  replied.  "  But  now  listen. 
Bring   the   President   here.     I  don't  care  how 

Vol.  xiv.-37. 


you  manage  it,  but  bring  him.  Tell  him  that 
you  have  heard  serious  news  which  you  must 
tell  him  alone.  Tell  him  anything  you  like — 
but  bring  him." 

"  Trust  me,"  she  said,  and  I  was  alone  once 
more. 

Time  passed,  but  still  they  did  not  come.  I 
could  hear  the  music  of  the  band,  and  presently 
the  couples  flocked  out  and  five  or  six  of  them 
came  down  my  path.  But  the  President  war, 
not  amongst  them.  They  returned  to  the 
palace  when  the  music  struck  up  again,  and  the 
gardens  were  quiet.  This  went  on  for  six  or 
seven  dances,  until  I  began  to  wonder  if  my 
friend  had  played  me  false.  Or  had  her 
courage  failed  her  at  the  last  moment  ? 

But  I  need  not  have  doubted.  The  merry- 
makers had  returned  to  the  palace  for  a  waltz, 
the  rhythm  of  which  reached  me  in  my  hiding- 
place.  I  stirred  uneasily,  for  my  limbs  were 
stiff  and  cramped.  Then  the  croak  of  a  bull- 
frog caught  my  ear,  and  I  was  all  attention,  for 
that  was  our  signal  for  the  night.  I  peered  out. 
Yes,  coming  down  the  shady  path  were  two 
figures,  walking  quickly  and  speaking  in  under- 
tones.    They  were  the  girl  and  the  President. 

"  You  must  forgive  me,  your  Excellency," 
she  was  saying,  "  but  you  know  how  dear  to  us 
is  the  safety  of  your  person.  I  have  heard  such 
serious  and  disquieting  news  this  evening  that 
I  could  not  rest  until  I  had  told  you  all." 

"  Dear  little  Anita,"  he  replied,  "  what  should 
I  do  without  such  loyal  friends  ?  Well,  and 
what  is  it  you  have  heard  ?  " 

"  I  fear  there  is  another  plot  to  assassinate 
you,"  she  began,  when  he  interrupted  her  with  a 
mirthless  laugh. 

"  If  you  had  said  there  was  no  plot  on  at 
present  it  would  have  been  more  news  to  me," 
he  said.  "  But  tell  me — is  it  of  Jiminiez  you 
wish  to  speak  ?  I  received  intimation  but  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  ago  that  the  news  of  his 
death  is  fictitious,  and  that  he  is  even  now  in 
the  city.  The  guards  have  been  doubled,  and 
the  soldiers  are  ready  to  be  called  out  at  a 
moment's  notice.     I  trust,  however— 

But  these  words  had  filled  me  with  alarm. 
I  was  discovered.  There  was  nothing  for  it  but 
to  take  immediate  action.  My  beautiful  guns 
would  stand  me  in  good  stead,  and  my  lovely 
little  ship,  with  its  powerful  engines,  so  kindly 
provided  by  my  dear  friends  in  America,  could 
laugh  at  the  old-fashioned  war-ships  of  the 
Domingan  Government.  I  rose  and  gave  the 
signal. 

Quietly,  stealthily,  bul  without  hesitation,  my 
men  appeared  in  the  moonlight,  and  before  there 
was  time  for  the  President  to  make  a  sound 
he  was  lying  on  his  back,  gagged  and  helpless. 


290 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


" BEKOKE   THERE    WAS   TIME    FOR    THE    PRESIDENT   TO    MAKE    A    SOUND    HE    WAS 
LYING   ON    HIS    BACK,    GAGGED   AND    HELPLESS." 


At  that  moment  I  could  have  shouted  with 
triumph,  for  I  had  won. 

With  Heareaux  my  prisoner,  and  his  party 
without  a  leader,  it  would  be  an  easy  matter  for 
me  to  seize  the  moment  half  the  country  waited 
for,  and  I  should  at  last  be  President  of  San 
Domingo. 

"  Quick  !  "  I  whispered.     "  To  the  ship  !  " 

We  seized  our  man  and  hurried  him  swiftly 
along  the  path.  A  turn  brought  us  opposite  the 
top  of  the  steps. 

"  Softly,  softly,"  I  murmured,  for  there,  peer- 
ing over  the  wall  into  the  water  below,  was  one 
of  the  soldiers  of  the  President's  guard. 

"  Seize  him  and  gag  him  !  "  I  said,  "  but 
remember — no  noise  !  " 

Two  of  my  men  crept  forward  and  were 
within  five  yards  of  him,  when  he  suddenly 
turned.  Like  a  flash  they  were  on  him.  But  it 
was  too  late.  He  fired  two  shots  in  rapid 
succession,  and  both  men  fell  dead.  This 
would  not  have  mattered,  for  the  next  moment 


a  bullet  had  laid  him  lifeless,  but 
the  reports  had  aroused  the 
guard.  Before  we  could  reach 
the  steps  the  garden  was  swarm- 
ing with  soldiers.  Every  bush 
seemed  alive.  But  though  they 
were  overwhelmingly  our  superi- 
ors in  numbers,  we  had  the 
advantage  of  them  in  knowing 
our  own  plans,  whereas  they 
knew  neither  our  strength  nor 
our  whereabouts. 

"  To  the  ship  !  "  I  cried  again, 
and  we  dashed  forward,  dragging 
the  helpless  President  with  us. 

A  volley  rang  out,  and  four 
or  five  of  our  men  fell. 

"  Fools  ! "  I  shouted,  to  the 
pursuing  soldiers ;  "  if  you  fire 
you  will  kill  your  President ! " 

This  stopped  the  soldiers,  and 
our  men  fired  incessantly,  cover- 
ing our  retreat.  We  reached  the 
top  of  the  stairs  and  rushed 
down.  There  was  only  ten  yards 
of  shingle  between  us  and  the 
boats.  Then  bad  luck  came  to 
us,  for  in  the  bustle  the  gag  got 
shifted  out  of  the  President  s 
mouth. 

"Fire!"  he  cried,  loudly. 
"Soldiers  of  the  guard  —  fire!" 
And  as  they  still  hesitated,  and 
before  we  had  time  to  replace  the 
gag,  he  yelled  again,  "  Fire  !  I, 
your  President,  command  it !  " 
And  they  fired, 
up  as  we  were,  my  men  were 
simply  mown  down.  How  Heareaux  and  I 
escaped  I  do  not  know.  But  I  saw  the  game 
was  up.  I  dropped  my  man,  for  I  could  not 
carry  him  alone,  made  a  dash  for  the  smaller 
boat,  pushed  off,  rowed  for  my  life — and  here 
I  am  ! 

There  was  a  long  silence  in  the  cell.  Bumham 
was  rapidly  making  notes,  and  as  he  gathered 
up  his  papers  he  said  : — 

"  And  you  cared  nothing  for  the  men  you  left 
behind?" 

Jiminiez  shrugged  his  shoulders  carelessly. 

"  Ah  !  these  things  must  be  !  They  die,  and 
I  can  at  all  times  get  more  soldiers,  /die,  and 
there  is  no  other  leader." 

Burnham  made  no  comment ;  then  a  puzzled 
look  came  over  his  face. 

"  But  your  guns  —  your  wonderful  guns  ? 
Where  are  they?  There  were  none  on  your 
ship  when  you  were  taken." 


Bunched 


KIDNAPPING    A    PRESIDENT. 


291 


Jiminiez  laughed  out  loud. 

"  Yes  !  Where  are  they  ?  The  sea-birds 
know  where  there  is  a  little  island  just  made 
for  hiding  such  secrets.  My  beautiful  guns 
will    still    be    useful    some    day  ! " 


"  You  remember  Jiminiez  ?  "  he  said.  "  Well, 
he  got  off;  but  whether  Heareaux's  ships  cau 
him  outside  or  not  I  do  not  know.  Tin-  whole 
fleet  hung  about  for  several  weeks.  However, 
I  have  heard  no  news  either  of  or  from 
Jiminiez." 

I   -had    almost    forgotten     the    whi 


"  I    DRUI'WiU    MY    MAN,    FOR    I    U'ULD    NOT   CARRY    HIM    ALONE." 


"  But    these  Americans    want    them  !  " 
"  Tell  them  I  dropped   them  in   the  ocean 
They  will  never  find  them." 
"  And  that  is  all  ?  " 
"  That  is  all." 

I  drew  a  long  breath  as  we  emerged  once 
more  and  drove  down  the  long  white  road, 
flooded  in  sunshine.  It  seemed  incredible  that 
the  peep  we  had  just  had  into  practically  un- 
known history  was  true,  and  that  the  negro  we 
had  left  behind  us  might  at  some  time  hold 
the  welfare  of  a  nation  in  his  hands  ! 

I  left  Nassau  before  the  end  of  the  trial,  but 
on  my  arrival  in  England  I  found  a  letter  await- 
ing me  from  Burnham. 


of  the  above  incident  when,  a  few  months 
ago,  a  brief  notice  in  the  Daily  Telegraph 
brought  it  back  to  my  mind.  It  ran  as 
follows  : — ■ 

"The  cable  reports  from  San  Domingo 
state  that  the  President,  General  Heareaax, 
has  been  assassinated,  and  that  the  counlry 
is  in  a  state  of  revolution.  The  leader  of 
the  revolution  is  a  native  banker  of  the  name 
of  Jiminiez." 

A  little  later  I  read  another  paragraph  :— 

"Jiminiez  has  been  elected  President  of  San 
Domingo." 

So  that  the  man  whose  moving  story  I  had 
heard  in  that  quiet  prison  cell  had  reached  his 
goal  at  last ! 


Under  Majuba  Hill. 

A   CHRISTMAS   STORY   FROM    SOUTH    AFRICA. 
By  Mrs.  E.  Maturin. 

Being   an  account  of  the  terrifying  experience  which  befell  two  unprotected  Englishwomen  living  in    a 

lonely   bungalow   under   Majuba   Hill.     Mrs.   Maturin's  story  throws  a  vivid  sidelight  on  the  insecurity 

of  life  and  property  in  certain  parts  of  South  Africa  during  the  period  subsequent  to  the  war. 

clothes,  foolishly  leaving  ourselves  out  nothing 
warm  to  wear  at  all.  All  that  was  in  our  heavy 
luggage,  which  might,  with  luck,  arrive  in  a 
month,  but  everything  in  Africa  was  so  com- 
pletely disorganized  that  it  might  be  three— or 
never.  Picture  our  consternation,  then,  on 
finding  that  our  train  was  slowly  climbing  into  a 
cold,  mountainous  district,  enveloped  in  clouds 
and  wet,  grey  mists.  No  one  had  told  me  that 
Charlestown  was  close  to  the  famous  Majuba 
Hill,  right  up  in  the  Highlands  of  Natal ! 
Night  was  rapidly  falling  as  we  approached 
Charlestown,  and  the  cold  became  intense.  Our 
teeth  chattered  as  we  gazed  out  of  the  rain- 
blurred  windows  up.  at  the  famous  great  black 
Majuba,  and  I  asked  myself  what  we  were  going 
to  do  for  that  night.  I  had  two  pounds 
left  in  the  world.  An  hotel  was  impossible. 
Our  two  pounds  had  to  feed  and  house  us 
for  three  weeks  in  a  country  where  an  egg 
then  cost  ninepence  and  a  loaf  a  shilling  !  In 
the  van  I  had  a  small  bell-tent  I  had  picked  up 
cheap,  and  I  had  intended  living  in  it  with 
N—  — ,  camped  on  the  veldt  at  Charlestown  ; 
but,  alas  !  this  idea  melted  into  thin  air.  The 
rain  was  so  terrific,  the  thunder  and  lightning 
so  awful,  the  night  so  dark  when  landing  upon 
Charlestown's  tiny  platform,  that  the  notion  of 
erecting  a  tent  or  expecting  it  to  stand  had  at 
once  to  be  banished. 

Well,  we  must  spend  the  night  in  the  waiting- 
room,  a  thing  we  had  already  done  several 
times.  We  went  to  look  for  it.  No  waiting- 
room  !  Never  had  been  any  !  No  one  "  waited  " 
at  this  lonely  little  station  under  Majuba  Hill ! 

The  station  was  soon  empty  and  deserted  for 
the  night.  One  miserable  flickering  oil-lamp 
lighted  up  the  scene.  Finally,  we  took  refuge 
in  an  empty  railway  carriage  down  the  line,  and 
there  spent  a  wretched  night  under  a  roof  that 
leaked  in  every  direction  — soaked  to  the  skin, 
very  hungry,  very  miserable,  and  wondering  in  a 
dazed  sort  of  fashion  what  on  earth  we  were 
going  to  do  next  day  for  a  dry  roof  over  our 
heads  in  this  benighted  spot,  and  with  no  money 
to  get  to  anywhere  else  ! 

Morning  dawned,  with  the  rain  more  terrific 


HE  war  was  just  over  when  the 
transport  landed  me,,  for  the  first 
time,  on  Africa's  shores.  Myself 
and  my  little  maid  N—  — ,  who  had 
elected  to  follow  my  fortunes  (or 
misfortunes  would,  I  think,  be  a  more  appro- 
priate term)  and  accompany  me  to  this  country, 
devastated  by  a  three  years'  war,  upon  an 
income  so  tiny  that  my  friends  and  relations 
confidently  predicted  that  we  should  both  starve 
upon  it. 

Life,  however,  is  made  up  of  comparisons. 
The  man  who  is  hanged  can  console  himself  by 
thinking  that,  in  China,  he  might  have  been 
flayed  alive.  One  has  only  to  be  wretched 
enough  in  England  to  find  Tinibuctoo  a 
delightful  spot  in  comparison.  And  so  it  was 
with  me.  Reasons  existed  why  England  had 
become  to  me  a  nightmare. 

N—  -  and  I  now  had  a  hard  time  before  us. 
We  lived  without  furniture  of  any  kind  in  a 
coolie's  hut  on  the  hills  behind  Durban,  our 
usual  fare  bread  and  butter,  and  sometimes 
sardines,  for  three  months  ;  and  when  the  hot 
weather  came  on,  and  we  could  afford  neither 
ice  nor  cool  drinks,  our  sufferings  became  almost 
unendurable.  Yet  I  was  still  happier  than  I 
had  been  for  years.  I  was  always  singing  and 
bright  at  heart,  although  I  expect  most  women 
of  my  position  would  have  considered  my  lot 
too  wretched  for  words.  I  never  saw  anyone 
except  my  little  N—  — ,  and  never  wished  to. 
We  lived  in  a  lonely  bit  of  jungle  surrounded 
by  Kaffirs  and  Indians,  and  at  night,  no  matter 
how  hot  it  was,  we  were  obliged  to  fasten  up 
our  tiny  abode  and  exclude  all  air,  for  fear  of 
intruders.  Sleep  at  last  became  impossible,  and 
we  both  began  to  feel  very  ill.  So  I  went  into 
Durban,  sought  a  high  railway  official  of 
influence,  told  him  of  my  plight,  and  begged 
him  to  grant  us  a  free  pass  up  into  cooler 
climes.  He  most  kindly  did  so,  giving  us  first- 
class  passes  as  far  as  his  railway  went — Charles- 
town, on  the  Natal  and  Transvaal  frontier. 
Here  we  had  to  get  out,  for  I,  of  course,  had 
no  means  to  pay  our  fare  farther  on. 

We  had  left  Durban  in  our  thinnest,  coolest 


UNDER    MAJUBA    HILL. 


^93 


than  ever.  No  tent  could  live  in  such  weather, 
even  if  anyone  could  be  found  to  erect  it. 

We  had  a  cheap  breakfast  each  in  the  little 
refreshment  bar  of  the  station.  Tears  fell  into 
my  plate — the  first,  I  think,  I  had  shed  since 
arriving  in  Africa.  But  I  felt  ill  and  stiff  in  my 
sodden,  thin  clothes  ;  and  the  many  hardships 
we  had  gone  through — the  poor  food  for 
months,  the  bad  and  insufficient  water,  no 
furniture,  and  many  other  privations  —  were 
beginning  to  tell  upon  us  both.      Many  times  I 

told  my  little  N ■  to  leave  me  if  she  wished, 

and  go  where  she  would  be  well  housed,  fed, 
and  paid.  But  she  always  refused.  We  should 
both  have  been  better  off  apart,  but  a  true  affec- 
tion, not  often  existing  between  mistress  and 
maid,  made  us   prefer  any  privations  to  parting 

from  each  other.     N ,  seeing  my  tears  (very 

unusual  for  me),  tried  to  comfort  me,  reminding 
me  of  all  we  had  already  faced  and  weathered, 
and  how  wonderfully  help  had  always  come 
when  things  seemed  darkest. 

"  I  seem  to  know,"  said  she,  "  that  we  shall 
sleep  under  a  roof  to-night." 

"But  everyone  says  there  are  no  roofs  here," 
I  replied,  "  except  a  few  tin  shanties  the  railway 
people  sleep  in.  Never  mind,  let's  go  and  look 
about."  It  was  a  very  serious  outlook  for  two 
unprotected  Englishwomen  in  such  a  lonely 
spot.  The  want  of  money 
made  it  so.  Even  if  the 
rain  stopped  and  the  tent 
became  feasible,  the  whole 
country  was  overrun  with 
lawless  and  desperate 
characters,  the  scum  of  the 
universe,  who  had  drifted 
to  South  Africa  for  the 
war,  had  now  been  dis- 
banded, and  were  roaming 
the  veldt,  living  in  the 
empty  block-houses.  Every 
day  the  papers  contained 
accounts  of  their  disrespect 
for  every  law  of  God  and 
man.  The  districts  of 
uninhabited  veldt  are  so 
■vast  in  Africa  that  it  was, 
and  still  is,  impossible  to 
police  them  efficiently, 
and  I  had  been  earnestly 
warned  not  to  attempt  to 
live  in  a  tent  with  no  man, 
white  or  black,  to  protect 
us  two  women.  I,  how- 
ever, quite  failed  to  realize 
the  danger,  and  should 
certainly  have  put  up  our 
tent  in  a  day  or  two. 


The  events  that  followed  opened  my  eyes  as 
nothing  else  could  have  done. 

It  did  not  take  long  to  walk  round  the  tiny 
village  under  Majuba  Hill,  whose  tall,  black 
summit  peeped  now  from  out  a  bank  of  white 
clouds  to  our  right.  "  Apartments  to  let, 
furnished,"  is  an  unknown  legend  in  Africa. 
The  few  tin  shanties  existing  were  occupied. 
We  knocked  at  each  one,  asking  if  they  c<  uld 
let  us  have  even  one  room,  cheaply — this  clause 
I  was  forced  to  add — only  to  be  told  they  had 
not  room  to  turn  round  themselves. 

We  were  beginning  to  despair  once  more,  and 
a  big  lump  was  rising  in  my  throat,  when  the 
rain  began  to  stop  and  a  gleam  of  African 
sunshine  lit  up  a  long,  wet,  tin  roof  on  the  hill 
above  us,  the  only  one  we  had  not  visited,  and  a 
long  way  off.  "  Let  us  try  there,"  I  said.  We 
did  so.  No  luck  again  !  The  engine-driver's 
wife  and  family  lived  in  it  and  filled  it.  They 
would  be  leaving  in  a  month,  but  what  use  was 
that  to  us  ? 

"  You  look  cold.  Will  you  have  some  hot 
cocoa  and  rest  a  bit?"  said  the  kindly-faced 
woman,  seeing  our  looks  of  misery. 

We  were  only  too  glad  to  do  so.  The  house, 
quite  the  largest  we  had  seen  in  Charlestown, 
had  a  small  board  fastened  to  its  stoep,  inscribed, 
"The    Sisters'     Quarters."       It    was    a    huge, 


WILL   YOU    HAVE   SOME    HOT   COCOA   AND.  KEsT    A    BIT 


294 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


movable  dwelling  of  polished  brown-  wood, 
cased  outside  with  corrugated  iron,  and  had 
been  the  nursing  sisters'  quarters  in  the  big 
hospital-camp  up  on  that  part  of  the  veldt. 
It  occupied  a  very  lonely  and  isolated  position, 
with  a  clean  sweep  of  veldt  between  it  and 
Majuba  Hill,  which  rose  up  at  its  side. 

Evidences  of  the  war-camp  around  were 
abundant.  Huge  circles  in  the  green  turf 
showed  where  hundreds  of  tents  had  stood  for 
many  a  long  day.  The  view  from  the  many 
windows  was  lovely.  On  one  side  great,  grim, 
though  green,  Majuba.  On  another  rolling 
green  veldt,  to  where  the  Buffalo  River  runs  its 
rocky  course,  with  dim,  purple  mountains 
beyond  again,  and  the  big  Boer  Concentration 
Camp  to  the  left,  towards  Volksrust. 

"  What  a  delightful  abode  !  "  cried  I,  as  we 
stepped  into  "The  Sisters'  Quarters." 

It  was  divided  into  four  rooms.  The  centre 
one  was  the  size  and  height  of  a  small  church, 
and  we  looked  three  little  dots  standing  on  the 
great  sweep  of  polished  wood  floor,  and  our 
voices  sounded  hollow  as  they  rose  to  the  great 
arched  roof  above  us.  The  rooms  on  either 
side  of  this  huge  one  were,  of  course,  just  as 
lofty,  but  smaller.  The  engine  driver  and  his 
family  occupied  the  great  centre  room,  and  with 
old  blankets  hung  across  this  end,  and  this  and 
that  corner,  and  so  on,  easily  made  five  or  six 
rooms  of  it.  Into  one  of  these  we  were  ushered 
hospitably,  and  given  hot  cocoa  to  drink.  In 
the  course  of  conversation  something  of  our 
plight  transpired  somehow,  and  a  look  of 
sympathy  came  over  our  kind  hostess's  face  as 
it  dawned  upon  her  that  here  was  an  English 
lady  with  her  maid  stranded  in  as  lonely  and 
benighted  a  village  as  even  Africa  after  the 
war  could  produce  ;  and  that  unless  something 
"  turned  up,"  a  la  Micawber,  our  lodging  that 
night,  and  for  many  nights,  might  easily  be 
"  the  cold  ground,"  and  our  canopy  the  stars 
— or  rain-clouds  ! 

"  What  on  earth  will  you  do  ? "  cried  our 
hostess.  "  No  bell-tent,  put  up  by  amateurs, 
would  stand  a  minute  in  the  gales  we  get  here 
by  night." 

I  laughed  and  said,  "Something  will  turn  up." 

And  we  prepared  to  depart.  Who  whispered 
to  the  homely-faced  woman  to  stop  us?  Is 
there  any  chance  about  these  things  ?  I  don't 
think  so. 

Cried  she,  "  Could  you  put  up  with  the  one 
tiny  room  at  the  end  there,  where  we  keep  our 
lumber  and  hang  our  clothes  ?  If  so,  take  it. 
We  leave  this  in  a  month  for  Volksrust,  and 
then  you  can  have  it  all." 

Need  I  say  I  joyfully  accepted  ?  N and  I 

moved  in  at  once  with  an  inward  prayer  of  grati- 


tude. The  rain,  which  had  stopped,  came  on 
again  soon  after,  and  all  night  roared  upon  the  tin 
roof  of  "The  Sisters'  Quarters,"  sweeping  down 
from  Majuba  Hill  with  long,  moaning  sounds. 
Right  glad  were  we  to  be  under  some  shelter, 
albeit  the  rain  came  in  in  various  places,  and 
the  engine-driver  (who  turned  up  coal  -  black 
about  midnight),  his  wife,  his  family,  and  we 
were  up  in  turns  all  night  placing  pails  and 
baths  under  the  streams  of  water,  and  shifting 
our  beds  into  fresh  dry  spots. 

On  the  second  morning  our  hostess  asked  us 
if  we  would  like  to  take  over  the  dwelling  from 
them  at  once,  before  Christmas.  They  found 
their  shanty  at  Volksrust  was  ready  for  them, 
and  if  I  would  take  the  rent  (a  small  one)  off 
their  hands  they  would  make  the  move  now. 

I   agreed,  and   on   the   third   morning  N 

and  I  stood  up  on  our  beautiful,  lonely  moun- 
tain-top and  watched  the  ox-waggons  that  con- 
veyed our  late  companions  and  their  belongings 
to  Volksrust  slowly  creeping  across  the  frontier 
into  Transvaal  territory.     And  we  were  alone. 

We  were  very  happy. 

No  idea  of  fear  or  danger  disturbed  our  lives 
those  first  few  days  in  "  The  Sisters'  Quarters  " 
under  Majuba  Hill.  Our  wants  were  few;  the 
weather  perfect.  I  descended  into  the  dorp 
nearly  every  morning,  and  purchased  Swiss  milk, 
bread,  cocoa,  and  fruit.  And  upon  this  fare  we 
lived  and  were  quite  content. 

Sometimes  a  bearded  old  Boer,  with  crape 
round  his  battered  grey  felt  hat,  would  ride  up 
to  our  lonely  abode,  from  the  distant  white  dots 
near  the  Buffalo  River  which  marked  the  Con- 
centration Camp,  and  bring  (in  one  large,  dirty 
bag)  a  medley  of  green  peas,  potatoes,  grena- 
dillas,  mangoes,  skinny  fowls,  and  new-laid  eggs, 
and  I  now  and  then  indulged  in  these  extrava- 
gances. We  had  no  stove  to  cook  on,  and 
never  had  had  one  since  landing  in  Africa. 
A  small  "  Beatrice  "  was  our  sole  cooking-range, 
and  when  we  ran  out  of  oil  we  dug  a  hole  in  the 
veldt  outside,  put  bricks  round  it,  filled  it  with 
paper  and  bits  of  wood  found  on  the  camping 
ground,  and  managed  with  that,  unless  it  rained. 
And  if  it  rained  we  had  to  be  content  with  bread 
and  butter,  and  were  once  several  days  with  not 
even  a  cup  of  hot  tea.  The  thousands  of  beau- 
tiful   mushrooms   which   grew  thick  up  to   our 

doors     saved     us    a    deal    of    money.      N 

and  I  would  sally  forth  mornings  (oh,  what 
mornings  !  How  blue,  how  still,  how  vast  !) 
with  a  large  kitchen  pail  each,  and  fill  them  in  a 
few  minutes.  In  a  few  weeks  we  had  cooked  and 
eaten    these    edibles  Jn    every   possible    way. 

N used  to  appear  at  the  far  door  of  my 

cathedral-like  room  calling  out,  in  tones  which 
might    have    been   the   announcement    of    the 


UNDER    MAJUBA    HILT. 


295 


"  I    NOW    AND    THEN    INDULGED    IN    THESE    EXTRAVAGANCES 


opening  words  of  an  anthem,  that  "Dinner 
is  ready,  ma'am,"  whereupon  I  repaired  to  what 
might  have  been  the  vestry,  to  sit  and  once  more 

partake  of  mushrooms,  N sitting  on  one  side 

of  the  box  we  used  for  our  table  and  I  on  the 
other. 

I  have  not  been  so  happy  for  a  long  time  as 
during  those  long,  still,  peaceful  days  under 
Majuba  Hill,  and  I  am  sure  we  should  have 
been  there  now  but  for  what  occurred  after  this. 

It  was  Christmas  morning.  I  stood  doing 
my  hair  at  one  of  my  thirty-five  windows, 
watching,  with  a  quiet  delight,  the  rippling 
across  the  green  vastness  beyond  of  thousands 
of  snow-white  sheep,  packed  so  close  and 
moving  so  uniformly  that  but  for  the  forests  of 
tiny  black  legs  twinkling  you  might  have 
believed  that  a  great  ocean  of  soft  white  surf 
was  pouring  down  from  Majuba  Hill  into  the 
veldt  ! 

Majuba's  summit  to-day  was  half  hidden  in  a 
peculiar  pale  yellow  haze,  which,  like  the  sheep, 
began  to  spread  itself  down  towards  us  and  over 
little  Charlestown  below  !  Soon  everywhere  in 
the  valley  you  heard  a  discordant  sound  of  tin 

pots  and  pans  being   beaten,  and  N and 

I,  running  out  to  see  what  this  could  menu, 
found  our  faces  whipped  as  if  by  millions  of  tin- 
tacks.      "  The    locusts  !     Quick  !      Shut    every- 


thing !  "  I  cried, 
and  in  we  flew  to 
close  our  many 
windows,  hut  not 
before  our 
polished  floors 
were  an  inch  thick 
with  the  creatui 
and  we  scrunched 
them,  shuddering, 
under  our  feet  :is 
we  ran.  Then, 
with  shawls  over 
our  heads,  we 
ducked  into  the 
locust  cloud  out- 
side to  watch  the 
garden  -owners 
down  in  the  valley 
standing  franti- 
cally beating  at 
empty  oil-tins  and 
saucepans  in  the 
centre  of  their 
gardens,  thus 
more  or  less  keep- 
ing  the  locusts 
from  settling. 

"  What  a 'lovely 
Christmas!"  I 
cried  ;  "  a  true  African  Christmas  !  I  do  hope 
the  whole  season  will  be  typically  African  !  "  I 
little  dreamt  how  horribly  my  wish  was  to  be 
granted. 

After  our  midday  meal  Majuba  Hill  looked 
so  beautiful  and  so  near  that  I  decided  I  would 
try  and  climb  it,  and  I  started.  I  walked  and  I 
walked.  "The  Sisters'  Quarters"  grew  smaller  and 
ever  smaller.  Charlestown  disappeared  entirely. 
But,  strange  to  say,  Majuba  receded  !  It  was 
my  first  experience  of  the  delusive  effect  of  tin- 
crystal-like  clearness  of  veldt  air.  I  began  to 
realize  that  the  famous  mountain  was  a  Ion- 
way  off.  I  still  pressed  on.  If  I  could  even 
reach  its  base,  it  would  be  something.  Lang's 
Nek  battlefield  lay  somewhere  near,  evidently, 
for  a  distant  speck  approaching  me  for  a 
full  hour  grew  into  a  buxom  Kaffir  girl 
carrying  eggs  in  a  basket  with  a  pencilled 
paper  asking  folks  to  "please  buy  from 
Mrs.  So-and-so,  of  Lang's  Nek."  That  lonely 
tract  of  landscape  !  I  had  walked  three  hours, 
seeing  no  human  being.  How  pleased  1  was  to 
stop  and  speak  to  the  Kaffir  girl  for  a  few 
minutes  !  We  parted,  and  I  went  on.  Another 
hour  of  steady  walking.  I  was  now  miles  from 
any  human  habitation,  and,  standing  gazing 
around  me,  I  began  to  feel  vaguely  nervous. 
Majuba  Hill  towered  now  clean  above  me,  with 


296 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


its  giant  ledges  running  round   it,  very  plain  to 

the  sight.    A  Kaffir  kraal  nestled  under  its  base, 

looking  home-like  and   happy,    with    its    naked 

black  children,  its 

white    goats    and 

black    cattle 

grazing. 

Where  he  had 
sprung  from  I 
could  never  tell, 
but  all  of  a  sudden 
a  horseman,  of  a 
most  cut-throat 
and  villainous 
aspect,  seemed  to 
come  out  of  the 
ground,  and  was 
before  me,  scan- 
ning me  with  no 
small  surprise  ! 

An  English  lady 
at  the  base  of 
lonely  Majuba 
Hill,  miles  from 
anywhere  or  any- 
body !  Not  even 
on  horseback,  and 
evening  approach- 
ing !  Knowing 
Africa  better  now, 
I  can  see  how 
astonished  he 
must  have  been, 
and  what  a  mad 
thing  I  had  done. 
Seeing  the  fellow's 
unkempt,  reckless 
appearance,  his  low  type  of  countenance,  and 
the  bold  stare  he  bestowed  upon  me,  I  tried 
to  freeze  him  with  a  glance  and  pass  him  with- 
out speaking.  I  saw  in  a  moment  that  he  was 
one  of  the  many  lawless  characters  let  loose 
over  the  country  after  the  war,  living  prob- 
ably in  some  lonely  block-house  and  sticking  at 
nothing,  provided  he  contrived  to  elude  the 
police — a  very  easy  matter  in  the  vast  and 
lonely  Highlands  of  Natal,  with  a  fleet  pony 
under  you. 

"  Here  !  stop  a  minute  !  "  cried  he,  getting  his 
horse  in  front  of  me;  "be  civil  to  a  fellow, 
white  like  yourself.  It  isn't  so  often  that  one 
meets  an  English  gal  alone  under  old  Majuba 
that  one  can  ride  past  her  as  if  she  was  a  dead 
cow"— jerking  his  head  towards  where  one  of 
these  grim  mile-stones  marked  the  past  track  of 
(he  war. 

I  was  trembling  now.  I  knew  I  was  helpless. 
My  best  course  was  not  to  put  the  fellow's  back 
up,  but  be  civil.     So  I  answered  his  questions, 


FLEW    TO    CLOSE   OUR    MANY    WIN 


though  with  some  reserve.  Yes,  I  was  not  long 
from  England.  I  was  not  living  alone.  Who 
was   I    living   with  ?     My   English    maid.     Out 

here  on  the  veldt  ? 
™™^™""""  No  ;  near  Charles- 
town.  Husband 
out  here?  (seeing 
my  ungloved 
hand).  N-no — but 
would  be  soon. 
(This  last  with  a 
feeble  idea  it  was 
a  good  thing  to 
say.)  Hoped  I 
understood  what 
sort  of  country  I 
was  in,  and  had 
firearms  at  night 
— a  big  dog  or 
something  of  that 
sort.  Well,  no,  I 
had  not.  Oh,  how 
I  wished  I  had 
said  yes,  I  had 
these  protections  ! 
But  I  was  getting 
more  nervous 
every  moment, 
and  my  one  idea 
was  to  end  the 
conversation  and 
get  away. 

Whether  my 
interlocutor  be- 
lieved me  when  I 
at  last  stammered 
that  I  was  expect- 
ing "  a  friend  to  join  me  "  (here  under  Majuba  !) 
any  moment,  and  I  must  really  go,  I  am  not  sure. 
He  finally,  very  reluctantly,  rode  away  towards 
Charlestown,  leaving  me,  miles  from  home,  with 
the  cheerful  conviction  that  I  had  completely 
"  given  the  whole  show  away "  to  as  big  a 
villain  as  I  had  yet  seen  in  Africa,  where  there 
are  plenty  at  present.  It  would  be  easy  for 
him  to  find  out  all  about  the  newly  arrived 
English  lady  and  her  maid,  living  alone,  if  he 
made  the  most  casual  inquiries  at  Charlestown. 
Oh,  heavens  !  what  had  I  done  ?  I  must  hurry 
back.  I  could  not  forget  the  fellow's  vile  face, 
his  free  and  easy  air,  his  impertinent  questions. 
I  recalled  the  earnest  warnings  I  had  received, 
and  began  to  wonder  if  I  had  taken  them  too 
lightly. 

I  got  home  at  last,  and  N and  I  had  a 

long  conversation.  She  did  not  share  my  fears, 
however.  No  one  would  molest  us.  She 
laughed  the  idea  to  scorn,  and,  I  am  bound  to 
say,  succeeded  in  dissipating  much  of  my  own 


UNDER     MAIUIIA     HILL. 


297 


I    ANSWERED    HIS   QUESTIONS,    THOUGH    WITH    SOME    RESERVE.' 


fear.  We  barricaded  "  The  Sisters'  Quarters " 
that  and  other  succeeding  nights  as  best  we 
could,  with  boxes  against  the  ill-fitting  doors,  a 
bolt  on  this  one,  and  nails  jammed  into  that  one. 
The  first  night  I  hardly  slept  at  all,  listening  to 
every  sound.  But  gradually,  when  nothing 
happened,  I  forgot  my  little  encounter  under 
Majuba  Hill,  and  went  to  rest  at  night  feeling  as 
safe  as  in  my  London  flat  ! 

It  was  New  Year's  night.     N and  I   had 

gone  to  bed  early,  I  in  my  "cathedral  room." 
she  in  the  smaller  one  beyond. 

For  days  we  had  not  seen  a  living  soul. 
To-morrow  we  meant  to  climb  together  to  the 
very  top  of  Majuba  Hill,  and  we  wished  to  start 
early,  while  it  was  cool. 

It    must   have    been    about   one   a.m.    when 

N sat  up  in  bed,  much  astonished  to  hear 

me  talking  to  somebody.  Who  on  earth  could 
it  be  at  this  lonely  hour  of  the  night,  on  this 
wild  and  lonely  veldt,  far  from  all  other  habita- 
tions ?     A   man's  voice  was   asking   questions, 

and  I,  to  N 's   horror,  was   quietly   replying 

to  them — in  my  sleep  !  She  quickly  realizea 
this,  knowing  that  it  was  a  peculiarity  of 
mine,    common    to  some   people,    to    reply   to 

Vol.  xiv.— 38. 


questions  put  me  in  my 
sleep. 

"  How   many  of  you 
are     there     in     the 
house?"    asked     the 
strange  voice. 
"  Only  two." 
"  Men  or  women  ?" 
"  Two  women — a  lady 
and  her  maid.'' 

"  Any  Kaffirs,  or  men 
of  any  sort  ?  " 
"  No ;  none." 
"  Are  you  armed  ?  " 
At  this  point,  with  a 
faint  cry,  I  awoke. 

The  question,  I  think, 
brought  me  back  to 
Majuba  Hill,  and  the 
individual  that  day  who 
had  asked  me  the  same 
thing.  At  any  rate,  I 
woke,  and  knew  what  I 
had  done.  I  sat  up  in 
bed  and  breathed 
N-— — -'s  name.  She 
was  already  on  her  way 
to  me  ;  across  the  long 
room  I  heard  her  creep- 
ing in  the  dark,  hardly 
daring  to  breathe.  I 
also  became  aware  that 
men's  voices,  a  good  many,  were  hoarsely 
whispering  outside  on  the  veldt  close  to  a  door 
opposite  my  bed.     I  put  out  my  hands  in  the 

dark.     They  met  N 's,  cold  and  trembling. 

We  neither  of  us  said  a  word  for  some  time. 
She  cowered  down  upon  my  little  camp-bed, 
clutching  to  me  and  shuddering  so  violently 
that  I  was  afraid  in  the  dense  stillness  that  the 
men  outside  would  hear  the  bed  shaking. 
Now  they  began  to  call  out  again. 
"  Open  this  door,  somebody  !  " 

I  put  my  hand  over  N 's  mouth,  for  fear 

she  might  be  tempted  to  reply.  We  clung 
tighter  to  each  other,  the  darkness  being  so 
intense  that,  close  as  she  was  to  me,  not  a 
glimmer  of  her  face  could  I  see.  Oh,  how  I 
wished  now  that  I  had  listened  to  warnings  and 
advice  !  What  would  our  fate  be  ?  I  recalled 
the  reports  in  the  papers  of  tragedies  occurring 
from  time  to  time  just  now,  since  the  war,  in 
solitary  regions  of  Africa  such  as  this. 

How  could  we  hope  to  escape  ?  Our  strange 
and  lonely  abode,  built  lor  a  military  hospital, 
consisted  almost  entirely  of  windows  and  doors, 
all  of  the  slightest  description,  many  of  them 
fastened  up  with  bent  nails,  one  or  two  hardly 
fastened  at  all. 


298 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


If  we  dashed  out  we  ran  straight"  into  our 
assailants,  who,  it  was  evident,  far  outnumbered 
us.  If  we  remained  inside  they  could  soon 
effect  an  entrance.  To  shout  for  help  was  use- 
less, and  might  result  in  our  being  smothered. 
We  were  a  long  way  off  any  help  at  all. 

"  Unless  this  door  is  opened  at  once,"  shouted 
a  coarse,  rough  voice,  "in  a  jiffy,  young  ladies, 
we  shall  force  it.  We  don't  want  to  be  nasty. 
Some  gentlemen  have  come  to  pay  you  an 
evening  call,  and  only  want  to  be  civil,  but  if 
your  reception  is  to  be  a  nasty,  disobliging  one 
ours  will  be  the  same." 

I  need  hardly  state  that  we  were  not  in  the 

least  reassured  by  this  address.     N began 

to  completely  lose  her  head,  and  whispered 
passionately  that  it  would  be  best  to  make 
one  dash  out  for  it  just  as  we  were,  in  our  night 
garments,  with  our  hair  down  and  bare  feet  ! 

I  took  her  hand,  and  whispered  back  to  her 
that  such  a  step  would  be  lunacy.  She  was  to 
sit  still,  and  I  would  creep  round  my  vast 
chamber  in  the  dark  and  see  if  I  could  find  a 
few  clothes  for  us  to  put  on. 

I  started  across  the  polished  floor,  making  for 
a  long  deck-chair  on  which  some  clothes  were 
lying.  I  missed  it  and  went  groping  about, 
touching  suddenly  a  window  draped  with  a 
blanket,  close  to  which  I  knew  our  visitors 
to  be  standing. 

Anxious  to  see,  if  possible,  how  many  enemies 
we  had  to  encounter,  I  slowly  and  softly  raised 
a  corner  of  the  blanket.  A  large,  dark  group  of 
men  stood  outside,  just  the  kind  I  should 
have  pictured — shabby,  rough  clothes,  slouch 
felt  hats,  unshaven  faces,  high  boots — and  one 
of  them  was  examining  a  pistol !  The  others 
were  laughing  as  if  at  some  grand  joke.  Pre- 
sently the  one  bending  over  his  pistol  raised  his 
face.  It  was  the  same  man  I  had  met  under 
lonely  Majuba  Hill  !  I  dropped  the  blanket 
and  crept  to  the  long  chair,  seized  a  dressing- 
gown,  some  shoes,  a  petticoat,  and  a  shawl, 
carried  them  back  to  my  bed,  and  whispered  to 
N—  -  to  quickly  put  on  half  the  things,  while 
I  donned  the  other  half. 

We  dressed,  still  in  complete  silence,  our 
visitors  shouting  to  us  from  time  to  time,  now 
in  wheedling  tones,  now  threatening  to  give  us 
only  a  few  minutes  more. 

We  had  hardly  got  our  clothes  on  when  they 
appeared  to  have  come  to  the  end  of  their  for- 
bearance, and  started  violently  kicking  and 
shaking  at  the  rickety  little  door.  We  started 
up,  both  of  us,  with  no  clear  idea  what  to  do 
when,  with  a  loud  report,  a  pistol  was  fired 
straight  at  the  thin  wood  and  tin  wall  behind 
my  bed.  The  shot  went  with  a  thud  through 
the  tin  and,  I    imagine,    stuck    in    the   wood. 


N ,  with  a  low  cry,  fell  back  fainting  on  my 

bed.  Now  they  started  firing  repeatedly  at  the 
house,  hoping,  I  imagine,  to  bring  us  flying  out. 
That  some  of  them  were  hopelessly  drunk,  I 
am  sure.  Perhaps  all  of  them  were  more  or 
less  so.  For  to  fire  at  the  house  and  make  that 
noise  was  quite  unnecessary,  when  in  a  few 
moments  they  could  have  broken  the  windows 
and  entered.  Desperate  in  my  terror,  I  ran  for 
a  far  corner  of  the  room,  where  I  knew  lay  a 
large  hammer  and  a  heavy  bar  of  solid  iron,  left 
by  the  engine-driver.  I  carried  them  back  to 
the  bed,  shook  N-  — ,  and  told  her  if  she 
became  unconscious  or  gave  way  one  bit  we 
should  be  murdered.  Then  I  directed  her  to 
smash  at  the  first  head  that  entered,  with  the 
hammer,  and  I  would  do  the  same  with  the  iron 
bar. 

All  this  time  we  were  in  momentary  danger 
of  being  shot,  for  every  instant  there  was  a 
sickening  report  and  a  crash  into  the  house- 
walls,  causing  us  to  cling  to  each  other  in  terror. 

Suddenly  the  window  close  to  us  was  shivered, 
and  we  both  distinctly  heard  a  shot  whiz  past 
our  heads  as  we  sat  on  the  bed.  At  the  same 
moment  three  or  four  of  the  men  smashed  the 
remaining  panes  of  glass,  tore  down  the  blanket, 
and  began  struggling  into  the  room. 

With  a  sensation  of  real  pleasure  and,  strange 
to  say,  very  little  fear  now,  I  brought  down  my 
iron  bar  on  to  the  first  head  with  one  hard 
crack  !  Then  I  heard  N—  -'s  hammer  on 
another  head,  and  a  loud,  howling  curse  as  both 
men  tumbled  in  a  heap  on  to  the  floor  !  But 
others  still  strove  to  enter.  It  was  still,  ot 
course,  pitch-dark,  except  for  the  faint  light  that 
now  entered  through  the  broken  window.  One 
or  two  men,  who  had  evidently  been  stationed 
on  the  other  side  of  the  house  to  stop  our 
escape  there,  now  rushed  round  to  the  broken 
window.  I  was  not  sure  if  there  were  others 
still  left  there,  but  we  had  to  chance  that,  for 
it  was  now  or  never ;  the  fallen  men  were 
reviving,  and  the  others  would  soon  clamber  in. 
Dragging  N—  -  along  by  the  arm  to  the  door 
on  the  other  side  I  slipped  back  the  bolt  noise- 
lessly, and  we  passed  out,  closing  the  door  just 
as  noiselessly  behind  us  ! 

Thanks  to  the  darkness  and  the  vast  size  of 
my  room,  I  hoped  our  escape  would  not  in  the 
confusion  be  discovered  for  a  few  moments. 
But  even  then  it  was  a  desperate  case.  There 
is  no  cover  for  terrified  fugitives  on  the  African 
veldt.  Once  out  upon  it  we  should  be  in  full 
view  of  our  pursuers,  for  it  was  a  light  night,  a 
struggling  moon  overhead  ever  and  anon  sail- 
ing out  from  stormy  clouds  with  temporary 
brilliance. 

But    Fate     befriended     us     strangely    well. 


UNDER    MAJUBA    HILL 


299 


BOTH    MEN    TUMBLKU    IN    A    HEAT    ON    TO    THE    F- LOOK. 


Pouring  in  soft,  white,  fleecy  masses  down  from 
Majuba  Hill  came  miles  upon  miles  of  dense, 
wet,  white  mist,  to  surround  "  The  Sisters' 
Quarters  "  at  this  critical  moment.  How  strange  ! 
How  wonderful  !  For,  although  Majuba  Hill  is 
often  itself  enveloped  in  clouds,  never  once 
before  had  we  beheld  them  descend  to  the 
broad  veldt  below,  and  we  have  since  been  told 
that  it  only  occurs  perhaps  once  in  a  year  ! 

Like  a  great  veil  of  softest  white  cobweb,  it 
wrapped  itself  round  our  lonely  abode  up  to  its 
very  doors  ;  so  soft,  so  white,  so  dense,  that  if 
you  stretched  out  your  arm  into  it  you  could 
hardly  see  the  fingers  of  your  hand  clearly. 

Into  that  sheltering  mi>t  our  two  half-clad 
forms  now  dipped — and  vanished  ! 

N and  I   took  each  other's  hand  and  ran 

as  if  for  our  lives.  Looking  back,  we  found,  to 
our  joy,  that  we  were  quite  hidden.  No  sign  of 
"  The  Sisters'  Quarters  "  could  be  seen.  But  in 
a  very  few  seconds  we  heard  shots  behind  us. 
Our  escape  had  been  discovered.  We  knew 
now  that  our  position,  if  caught,  was  very 
desperate,  for  it  was  certain  our  assailants  would 
not  risk  allowing  us  to  live  to  tell  the  tale  that 


would  land  them  in  prison  for 
many  a  long  year. 

Over  and  over  again  N 

nearly  fainted,  and  had  to  be 
reminded  by  me  of  the  in- 
evitable consequences  if  she- 
gave  way.  She  ran  along,  as 
I  did,  panting  cruelly.  The 
voices  behind  us  were  our 
only  guide.  Winn  they  came 
in  one  direction  we  turned 
and  took  another,  my  great 
fear  in  doing  this  being  that 
we  might  be  describing  a 
circle,  and  find  ourselves 
back  at  our  starting  -  point. 
So  far  as  we  could  judge  in 
the  blinding  wet  whiteness, 
we  had  our  faces  set  for 
Majuba  Hill. 

Another  terror  knocked  at 
my  heart,  whose  thumping 
pit-pats  alone  nearly  choked 
me.  This  great,  soft,  moun- 
tain mist  might  dissolve  at 
any  moment  as  quickly  as  it 
had  descended.  Then,  if  the 
moon  flooded  the  dark  veldt, 
our  forms  would  be  seen  dis- 
tinctly, and  from  a  great  dis- 
tance. Oh,  for  some  friendly 
shelter  before  this  occurred  ! 
A  kopje,  a  boulder,  a  block- 
house— anything  ! 
On  and  on  we  ran.  We  had  to  cease  running 
at  last,  or  we  should  have  dropped.  We  fell 
into  a  scurried  half  walk.  I  had  only  stockings 
on,  no  shoes,  and  my  feet  were  getting  pricked 
and  torn  with  the  thistles  and  other  thorny  little 
growths  of  the  veldt.  Suddenly  voices  again 
came  out  of  the  mist  not  very  far  off.  Again  we 
started  running,  making  a  sharp  curve  to  the 
right.  We  must  now  have  run  almost  two  miles, 
and  had  no  idea  where  we  were.  We  began  to 
feel  utterly  and  completely  exhausted.  All  my 
energy  was  going.  I  began  to  care  very  little 
what  became  of  us. 

"  Let  us  give  it  up,' 
lie  down  and  chance  it. 
ma'am." 

"  A  few  steps  more,' 
two  minutes." 

That   two   minutes   saved   us  !     ( 'rash 
went  suddenly  into  some  barbed  wire  and  bushes 
of  pomegranate.     A  garden  !     A  house  ! 

It  loomed  out  of  the  whiteness,  a  pretty  little 
place,  its  porch  smothered  in  roses.  We  burst 
open  a  little  wooden  gate,  and  almost  fell  into 
that  porch.      Battering    at    the  door    with    our 


said  N-   — .      "  Let  us 
I  can't  run  any  farther, 

said   I  ;  "just  another 


We 


3°° 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


hands,  we  cried  loudly  to  the  sleeping  inmates 
to  open  to  us. 

In  another  minute  we  were  safe.  English- 
men in  pyjamas,  with  loaded  pistols.  An 
English  lady  in  a  dressing-gown  and  curl-papers. 
I  just  took  it  all   in  and  then  fell  into  a   chair, 


and,  on  the  chance  of  their  oeing  some  of 
the  delinquents,  they  arrested  them  on  minor 
charges  and  dispatched  them  to  Pietermaritz- 
burg. 

N and     I      soon     after    this     left     for 

Johannesburg,    but    until    that    day   came    we 


IN    ANOTHER    MINUTE    WE    WERE    SAKE. 


and,  when  I  came  to,  found  wine  being  pressed 

to    my   lips    and    N sobbingly  telling    the 

story  to  our  hostess.  I  was  told  that  her 
husband  and  son  had  started  off  with  their 
revolvers,  dogs,  and  Kaffir  servants  for  "  The 
Sisters'  Quarters." 

The  rest  is  quickly  told.  On  arriving  at  our 
abode  not  a  sign  of  our  assailants  was  found, 
beyond  a  certain  amount  of  ruin  and  loot. 
They  had  doubtless  heard  the  Englishmen 
coming  and  had  bolted. 

The  Natal  police  scoured  the  country-side  for 
two  weeks  after  this  in  search  of  the  miscreants. 
They  found  several  doubtful-looking  characters 
occupying  block-houses  and  caves  in  the  kopjes, 


never  again  slept  in  "  The  Sisters'  Quarters" 
under  Majuba  Hill  without  three  troopers  of 
the  Natal  police  patrolling  the  house  all  night 
long. 

One  morning  early  the  train  bore  us  away 
from  pretty  little  Charlestown — away  to  fresh 
fields  and  pastures  new  in  the  Transvaal,  and 
to  that  great,  dusty  mining-camp,  Johannesburg. 
The  morning  sun  shone  on  the  white  tin  roof  of 
"The  Sisters'  Quarters"  up  on  the  Hog's  Back 
above  us.  He  shone,  too,  on  great,  silent 
Majuba  Hill,  so  cruel  once  to  our  people,  but  so 
kind,  with  its  friendly  clouds  and  sheltering  white 
mist,  to  those  two  lonely  and  besieged  English' 
women  dwelling  beneath  its  rugged  crest. 


SANCTUARIES     IN     THE     ROCKS. 


By  Herbert  Vivian. 

Scattered    about    in    various    parts  of    Europe    are    a    number   of    remarkable    castles,    monasteries,  and 
cemeteries,  hewn  out  of  the   solid  rock  no  one  knows  how    many  ages  ago.       Some  of  the  most  extra- 
ordinary of  these  places  are  described  and  illustrated  in  this  article. 


HE  most  convincing  fairy  -  stories 
always  contrive  to  introduce  us 
to  subterranean  palaces,  where 
mysterious  beings  hold  high  revels 
by  the  light  of  enormous  precious 
stones.  The  nearest  approach  to  these  in  real 
life  is  perhaps  afforded  by  various  salt-mines  in 
America,  Siberia,  and  Transylvania,  where  vast 
saloons  are  glorified  by  walls  of  glittering 
crystals,  whose  intense  whiteness  almost  blinds 
the  beholder.  But  the  atmosphere  of  hard 
labour,  the  sober  business  methods,  and  the 
noise  of  machinery  are  inimical  to  gnomes  and 
fairy  princesses,  who  can  have  scant  patience 
with  money-making  and  the  modern  world. 

There  are,  however,  certain  ancient  castles, 
monasteries,  and  cemeteries,  built  in  the  living 
rock  goodness  knows  how  long  ago  or  by' 
whom — perhaps  the  Jinns  of  King  Solomon  — 
which  afford  ideal  scenes  for  supernatural  romance, 
and  at  the  same  time  present  a  sufficiently 
fantastic  and  picturesque  appearance  to  entrance 
even  the  most  sceptical  and  matter-of-fact  tourist. 
Such    is    the    strange    fortress  of  Belogradchik, 


seen  in  the  first  photograph  reproduced,  which 
dominates  the  Servian  frontier  from  the  north- 
west corner  of  Bulgaria.  At  a  distance  you 
espy  only  a  great  mass  of  red  sandstone, 
resembling  a  number  of  deformed  fingers  ;  but 
on  drawing  nearer  you  may  distinguish  first 
some  white  battlements  at  the  top,  and,  finally, 
a  little  wizened  guard-house  clinging  like  a 
limpet  against  the  side.  The  general  effect  is 
beautiful  as  well  as  mysterious,  and  the  fortress 
must  be  singularly  strong,  perhaps  almost 
impregnable  even  in  these  days  of  terrific 
artillery.  This  strange  construction  was  the 
work  of  the  Turks  some  seventy  years  ago,  but 
there  is  evidence  that  natural  caverns  here  were 
used  and  strengthened  for  military  purposes  in 
the  days  of  the  Romans.  Entering  through  the 
guard-house  we  find  ourselves  in  a  lofty  hall, 
several  hundred  yards  in  length.  A  crevice  in 
the  outer  rock  has  afforded  an  opportunity  for 
loopholes  for  guns.  A  gate  on  the  south  side 
leads  to  a  second  hall,  somewhat  similar  to  the 
first.  Thence  we  pass  to  a  third,  which  is  of 
enormously    high    masonry,    embedded    in    the 


THK   STRANGE    FORTRESS    UF    BEL/JGRA  DCH1K — "  NO    M   'UK    APPROPRIATE    LA.IR.    COVLP    HE    IMAGINED 

From  a,  Photo^ 


>R    A    BRIGAND    CHIEF. 


302 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


sandstone.  In  the  case  of  a  successful  assault 
the  garrison  could  escape  through  a  small  door 
in  the  wall,  scramble  up  stairs  and  ladders,  and 
take  refuge  on  a  fortified  terrace,  where  they 
could  hold  out  for  a  considerable  time.  In  the 
event  of  a  Servian  invasion  this  weird  fortress 
would  be  very  useful  to  the  Bulgarians,  as  it 
commands  the  high  road  from  the  valley  of 
the  Nishava  to  the  fortress  of  Vidin  on  the 
Danube,  and  large  numbers  of  men  as  well  as 
plentiful  stores  of  arms  and  ammunition  could 
be  concealed  within  its  great  gloomy  chambers. 
No  more  appropriate  lair  could  be  imagined  for 
a  brigand  chief  or  an  ogre-king. 

For  further  examples  of  similar  architecture 


outline,    one   pinnacle   of    which    resembles   a 
Queen    with    a    crown    on    her    head,    a    great 
cathedral    of  blood-red   rock   juts    out   to   the 
very  edge  of  the  railway  line  beside  a  sluggish 
river,  as   seen   on  the  following   page.       Many 
feet  up — mere  black  spots  on  the  surface  of  the 
rock — we  may  discern  the  one  door  and  window 
of  the  edifice,  and  a  narrow,  winding  path  leads 
us  thither  without  serious  peril.     On  making  our 
way   in  we  find   ourselves  in   a  wide  gallery — 
depicted    below    the      previous     photograph- 
flanked  on   the   left  by  dark  grottoes   or  cells, 
which    have    certainly   not    been    inhabited   for 
many    hundreds    of   years.     Tradition   has   but 
little  to  say  concerning  the  history  of  this  strange 


U_^o. ■     ■ 

ANATOLIA,    SHOWING    THE    CURIOUS    STRATA. 


[Photo. 


we  must  travel  to  Anatolia,  where  several  extra- 
ordinary dwelling-places  are  to  be  found  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  famous  Bagdad  railway, 
which  has  been  attracting  so  much  attention  of 
late.  The  character  of  the  rock  hereabouts  is  well 
illustrated  by  the  above  photograph.  Though 
very  susceptible  to  the  action  of  the  elements 
and  readily  inclined  to  crumble,  it  is  far  stronger 
and  more  durable  than  might  be  imagined,  and 
many  underground  constructions  have  survived 
in  excellent  condition  since  prehistoric  times. 
Perhaps  the  most  wonderful  of  these  is  the 
mysterious  old  monastery  of  Kessiktash,  in  the 
neighbourhood   of  Angora.      With    a    fanciful 


place,  which  was  more  probably  a  refuge  of 
hermits  (perhaps  even  of  robbers)  rather 
than  a  regular  monastic  establishment.  In- 
deed, the  only  authority  for  the  monastery 
theory  is  a  German  traveller,  Captain  Anton, 
who  published  a  book  about  the  district  in 
1895.  He  claims  to  have  discovered  three 
monasteries  hereabouts.  The  inhabitants  of  the 
neighbouring  village  are  Armenian  shepherds, 
and  they  may  have  utilized  the  caves  for 
religious  worship  in  times  of  persecution.  The 
corridors  and  cells  have  certainly  been  con- 
structed by  human  agency,  but  there  are  no 
religious  symbols  to  be  found.     This  may,  how- 


SANCTUARIES    IN    THE    ROCKS. 


303 


From  a) 


INSIDE    THIS   CKAG    IS   AN    ANCIENT    MONASTERY    HEWN    OUT   OK   THE    SOLID    ROCR. 


ever,  have  been  a  measure  of  precaution.     One 
of  the  rooms — seen  in  the  fifth    photograph 


does  happen  to  be   shaped   like  a  cross,  and 
this  is  reputed  to   be  the  chapel.       There  are 


From  a\ 


ONE   OK    THE   GALLERIES   OK    THE    MONASTERY   JIH    THE    ROCKS. 


[P/wlo. 


3°4 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


THE  CHAPEL   OF   THE   MONASTERY — THE   RECESSES    ARE    RELIEVED    TO    HAVE    BEEN    ALTARS. 

From  a  Photo. 


certain  recesses  which  may  have  done  duty  as 
altars,  but  even  this  is  open  to  doubt.  In  any 
case  this  great  dwelling-place  in  the  rocks  has 
every  appearance  of  antiquity  and  mystery.  We 
may  believe  the  local  tradition,  which  confers 
monastic  associations ;  if  not,  we  may  give 
free  play  to  our  imagination  and  be  sure  that 


this  has  often  been  a  home  of  romance.  Before 
the  intrusion  of  a  railway  Kessiktash  must  have 
enjoyed  complete  seclusion,  for  it  could  only  be 
approached  by  goat-tracks,  and  travellers  might 
have  passed  the  rocky  citadel  a  hundred  times 
without  ever  suspecting  the  labyrinth  of  passages 
and  caves  concealed  within. 


] 


A    BYZANTINE   CHURCH    II 


;K    NEAR    AYASH-IN,    BELIEVED    TO    DATE    FROM    THE   SIXTH    CENTURY. 

from  4  Photo, 


SANCTUARIES    IN    THE    ROCKS. 


3°5 


Captain  Anton  reports  another  and  even 
stranger  monastery  near  Gudur,  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  Ayash.  It  is  situated  in  an  almost 
inaccessible  position  on  the  western  slope  of  the 
Sivri-tepe.  The  rocky  walls  are  over  one 
hundred  feet  in  thickness,  and  the  various 
chambers  have  either  wide  windows  or  are  fully 
open  to  the  air,  overlooking  a  wild  mountain- 
torrent.  There  are  five  or  six  stories,  one  above 
the  other,  with  staircases  to  connect  them.  In 
the  centre  is  a  large  open  hall,  which  is  supposed 
to  have  been  a  chapel  ;  it  is  connected  by 
passages  with  the  rest  of  the  building,  and  could 


monasteries.  From  the  style  and  shape  it  is 
supposed  that  the  church  was  built  in  the  sixth 
century,  or  even  earlier.  At  any  rate,  there  is 
no  trace  of  Christianity  in  this  region  before  the 
time  of  Constantine.  The  soft  rock  lent  itself 
to  the  construction  of  catacombs,  but  none 
of  the  tombs  have  revealed  any  Christian 
emblems  which  date  back  beyond  the  fourth 
century. 

How  far  the  Christian  churches  or  monasteries 
were  fresh  constructions  remains  open  to  debate. 
Many  of  them  were  probably  adaptations  of  pre- 
existing   Phrygian    tombs,   some    of  which    are 


A    PHRYGIAN    TOMB    NEAR    KEUKCHE-K  IS-~|  K. 
from  a  Ptwto. 


have   accommodated   a  very  large   number   of 
worshippers. 

Not  far  from  this,  near  Ayash-in,  are  the 
remains  of  a  subterranean  church  of  Byzantine 
origin.  Here,  as  will  be  seen  from  one  of  the 
photos.,  there  is  no  attempt  at  concealment,  and, 
externally  at  any  rate,  the  architecture  is  far 
more  ambitious.  The  tower  is  well  formed,  the 
arches  and  windows  were  evidently  cut  out  with 
some  skill,  and  have  stood  the  wear  and  tear  of 
time  better  than  might  have  been  anticipated 
from  the  softness  of  the  rock.  There  are  even 
traces  of  decoration  on  a  far  more  ambitious 
scale    than    any   to    be    found    in    the    rock- 

Vol.  xiv.— 39. 


traceable  as  far  back  as  700  B.C.  Such  rock- 
tombs  are  peculiar  to  Phrygia  and  the  eastern 
shores  of  the  Mediterranean.  The  older  ones 
are  merely  rough  rectangular  holes,  always  very 
difficult  of  access.  Later  came  low,  narrow 
rooms,  first  singly,  then  opening  out  of  one 
another,  and  then  flanking  long  passages.  One 
of  the  most  perfect— that  near  Keukche-Ki 
a  station  on  the  Anatolian  railway— is  well  shown 
in  the  above  illustration.  The  central  hall 
seems  to  have  been  supported  by  a  large  pillar 
in  the  centre,  but  this  has  now  disappeared. 
The  roof  has  been  made  flat,  with  a  rude  imita- 
tion of  wooden  beams.     In  the  walls  are  quaint 


306 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    xMAGAZINE. 


recesses,  like  dummy  cupboards.  Three  well- 
worn  steps  lead  to  a  chamber  further  inland,  and 
a  narrow  passage  admits  to  a  small  cell  on  the 
left.  In  the  corner  is  a  triangular  trough,  which 
may  have  been  used  for  cooking  and  seems  to 
suggest  that  the  tomb  was  inhabited  at  some 
period  in  its  history.  Various  indications  point 
to  a  Roman  origin,  a  very  rare  event  in  this 
neighbourhood,  which  was  quite  out  of  the 
regular  trade-routes.  There  are  also  rustic 
imitations  of  Greek  decoration,  which  are  no  less 
difficult  to  explain. 

Not  far  from  this  tomb,  at  Arslan  Kaya,  is  a 
very  remarkable  edifice,  of  prehistoric  origin  and 
extraordinary  appearance,  standing  out  as  a 
landmark  near  the  summit  of  a  parched  hill. 
Many  of  the  tombs 
in  this  neighbour- 
hood have  elabo- 
rately-carved 
facades,  but  this  . 
striking  monu- 
ment, the  subject 
of  the  next  photo., 
is  thought  to  be  a 
Pagan  sanctuary. 
The  geometrical 
carpet  -  pattern  in 
front  is  unique 
among  all  the 
monuments  of  an- 
tiquity. It  serves 
as  a  frame  for  a 
recess,  where  a 
heraldic  lion  ramp- 
ant rests  his  fore- 
paws  on  a  stone, 
whose  shape  has 
been  obliterated 
by  time.  Up 
above,  inside  a 
triangle,  are  two 
winged      sphinxes 


facing  each  other  on  either  side  of  a  column. 
They  have  long  ears  and  flat  faces  of  singular 
malevolence.  On  the  other  side  is  a  double 
door,  which  seems  to  have  possessed  a-  knocker 
once  upon  a  time.  You  pass  into  a  tiny  room 
whose  wall  is  ornamented  with  a  mysterious 
piece  of  sculpture.  In  the  centre  is  a  female 
figure  with  long  draperies  and  a  high  tiara. 
On  either  side  of  her,  as  supporters,  are 
lionesses  gardant. 

I  have  seen  many  rock-dwellings  in  various 
parts  of  the  world — at  Granada,  near  Guadix,  in 
the  south  of  Tunisia,  etc. — but  I  doubt  whether 
any  of  them  possessed  the  antiquity,  and  I  am 
certain  that  none  of  them  offered  the  interest, 
which  belong  to  these  venerable  fanes  in  Anatolia. 

No  doubt  they 
have  as  yet  been 
explored  but 
superficially.  That 
is  an  omission 
which  the  facilities 
of  the  new  railway 
should  soon  en- 
able us  to  repair. 
Enterprising  arch- 
aeologists may  well 
be  encouraged  by 
the  scientific  re- 
wards which  have 
already  attended 
excavators  in 
Western  Asia,  and 
it  is  by  no  means 
impossible  that  a 
great  flood  of  light 
might  here  be 
thrown  upon  the 
life,  manners,  and 
religion  of  the 
ancients.  At  any 
rate,  the  attempt  is 
worth  an  effort. 


A    I'AUAN     SANCTUARY   OF    UNKNOWN    ANTIQUITY,    CARVED    OUT   OF     I.1U\    ROCK 
AT   THE   SUMMIT   OF   A    LOFTY    Hll.L. 

From  a  Photo, 


The  Cars    of  Juggernaut — A    Monster   Turtle — Where    Moses- was    Hidden    in 

Moving  in  the  West  Indies,  etc. 


the    Bulrushes     House- 


mXm 


HE  accompanying  photograph  depicts 
the    great   cars  of  Juggernaut  com- 
mencing   their    journey   down    the 
Baradand,   the    main   street   of  the 
town    of    Puri,    in    Bengal.      When 
everything  is  ready  for  the  grand  procession  the 
large  hempen    ropes  are  adjusted  on  the  cars, 
the      bugle     sounds, 
the  police  form  a  cor- 
don   round  the   cars, 
and    Bala  ram,    the 
elder   brother  of  Jug- 
gernaut, starts  on  his 
triumphal  way.      The 
cars  are  each  dragged 
in    turn   by  a  special 
class   of   coolie,    who 
are  largely  assisted  by 
the     immense     num- 
bers of  pilgrims  who 
throng  to  the  town  for 
the  festival,  and  every 
one  of  whom  long  to 
have      the      supreme 
felicity  of  dragging  the 
cars  and  thereby  rend- 
ing asunder  the  bonds 
of   sin  for   ever.     At 
the  first  movement  of 
the    car,     which     has 
just  taken  place  in  the 
photograph,    the    joy 
and    shouts    of     the 
crowd,     the    exhorta- 
tions  of    the  priests. 


the  creaking  sounds  as  the  ponderous  machines 
roll  along,  the  din  made  by  hundreds  of  harsh- 
sounding  instruments  and  the  vast  concourse  of 
people,  produce  a  bewildering  effect  on  the  be- 
holder. Happily,  the  days  are  over  for  ever  when 
fanatical  devotees  threw  themselves  down  and 
allowed  the  great  cars  to  crush  out  their  lives. 


THE    GREAT    CARS    OF 

From  a] 


JUGGERNAUT, 

ALLOW 


UNDER    THE     PONDEROUS     WHEELS     OF     WHICH     DEVOTEES     USED     TO 
THEMSELVES   TO    BE   CRUSHED    TO    DEATH. 


3oS 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


r 


FISHKKMKN  S    I  I 


IF.    WATCHERS   CAN    DISCE 


IACH    OF    A    SHOAL. 


From  a  Photo. 


As  you  enter  the  Bosphorus  from  the  Black 
Sea  you  may  observe  a  number  of  strange, 
rickety  little  wooden  shanties  perched  up  on 
stilt-like  legs  as  far  from  the  shore  as  the  depth 
of  the  water  permits.  They  are  covered  with 
rough  matting  and  entered  by  elementary 
ladders.  Two  or  three  fishermen  live  in  each 
hut,  taking  it  in  turns  to  occupy  the  look-out 
and  watch  for  fish.  These  look-outs  are  either 
little  cage-like  sentry-boxes  of  ill-fitting  planks  or 
else  mere  perches  projecting  into  the  air.  Some- 
one must  always  be  there,  keeping  a  sharp  watch 
upon  the  waters,  for  at  any  moment  a  gentle 
ripple  may  be  discern  d  in  the  distance,  and  that 
indicates  the  approach  of 
a  shoal.  Then  the  signal 
must  be  given  with  all 
speed,  for  there  is  no  time 
to  be  lost.  The  watchman 
emits  a  penetrating  musi- 
cal cry  like  that  of  a  muez- 
zin on  a  minaret  ;  long 
ropes,  connecting  the 
signal  boxes  with  the  fisher- 
men's cottages  on  shore, 
are  feverishly  agitated  ; 
and  in  a  trice  all  is  bustle 
and  hurry.  Boats  and 
nets  are  brought  out, 
and  sometimes  very  big 
hauls  indeed  are  secured. 
During  the  night  the 
advent  of  a  shoal  is 
recognised     by     a    pecu-       From  a] 


liar     phosphorescence    on     the     face    of     the 
waters. 

The  following  illustration  shows  an 
"Ezbeh"  or  fellaheen  mud  village  in  Lower 
Egypt.  All  the  houses  are  built  of  sun-dried 
bricks  plastered  with  mud,  and  are  generally 
circular  in  shape,  with  one  door  and  no  fire- 
place. It  is  said  that  earth  is  a  good  building 
material,  being  antiseptic  and  absorbent,  and  of 
this  fact  the  fellah  takes — in  his  own  way — full 
advantage.  When  the  floor  of  his  hut  has 
become  so  littered  up  with  filth  as  to  seriously 
affect  the  standing  room,  he  breaks  through  the 
domed  roof  and   builds  another   house  on  top 


A    MUD   VILLAGE    IN    LOWER   EGYPT. 


[Photo. 


ODDS    AND    ENDS. 


509 


THE    LARGEST    MARINE    TURTLE    EVER    CAI'TURED — IT    WEIGHED    TWELVE    HUNDRED    POUNDS,    AND    WAS   CAUGHT 

From  a]  at  san  pedro,  California.  [I' koto. 


of  the  old  one.  This  quaint  practice  probably 
accounts  for  the  numerous  mounds  containing 
accumulations  of  rubbish  and  old  pottery  which 
are  scattered  about  the  country. 

After  a  severe  gale  on  the  Pacific  Coast  a 
fisherman  caught  the  monster  turtle  shown  above 
in  the  harbour  of 
San  Pedro,  the  port 
of  Los  Angeles, 
California.  This 
leviathan  weighs 
twelve  hundred 
pounds,  and  is  by 
far  the  largest 
marine  turtle  ever 
captured.  The  big- 
gest previously 
known  weighed 
eight  hundred  and 
fifty  pounds,  and 
was  found  in  the 
Galapagos  group  of 
islands  by  Lord 
Rothschild's  expedi- 
tion several  years 
ago  and  taken  to 
London.  The  age 
of  the  captive  here 
shown  is  estimated      the  spot  marked  bv  the  c 

.  1  J        J  VISITING  CAIRO  AS  the   tkaditionai 

at     three    hundred        From  a)  in  the  b 


years.  The  shell  on  the  San  Pedro  turtle  is  six 
and  a  half  feet  long  and  five  and  a  half  feet 
wide.  The  monster  was  sent  to  the  World's 
Fair  at  St.  Louis  for  exhibition. 

The  snap-shot  next  reproduced  was  taken  at 
Cairo  recently  by  a  naval  officer.      "  The  spot 

indicated  by  the 
cross,"  he  writes, 
"is  pointed  out  by 
the  guides  to  tour- 
ists 'doing'  Cairo 
as  the  traditional 
place  where  Moses 
was  hidden  in  the 
bulrushes  of  the 
Nile.  As  will  be 
seen  from  the 
photo.,  the  bul- 
rushes have  long 
since  disappeared, 
a  prosaic  concrete 
e  m  b  a  n k ment 
having  taken  their 
place."  It  would 
be  interesting  to 
know  what  founda- 
tion there  is,  if 
any,  for  this 
picturesque  and 
quaint  legend. 


POINTED   OUT    BY  GUIDES   TO  TO! 

PLACE    WHERE     MOSES    WAS     HIDDEN 
ULRUSHES.  [Photo. 


3i6 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


A    NEGRO    HOUSE-MOVING    IN    THE    WEST    INDIES. 

From    a    Photo,    by  Jose    Anjo,    St.    John's,   Antigua. 


The  West  Indian  negro,  when  he  desires  to 
shift  his  residence,  can  do  so  with  an  ease  and 
expedition  that  rivals  the  achievements  of  the 
traditional  tent-folding  Arab.  The  darkies  live 
in  wooden  huts  of  small  dimensions,  and  when 
they  want  a  change  of  location  they  take  their 
houses  with  them.  The  huts  are  raised  above 
the  ground  on  stone  props  a  foot  or  so  high, 
and  when  it  is  desired  to  move  them  one  or 
two  small  trucks,  accord- 
ing to  the  size  of  the 
house,  are  run  under- 
neath and  the  whole  affair 
is  hauled  to  the  new  site, 
as  shown  in  our  photo- 
graph, by  the  occupier 
and  his  friends,  who 
lighten  their  labours  by 
singing  characteristic 
negro  melodies.  1  >e- 
faulting  tenants,  who  dis- 
appear and  take  their 
houses  with  them,  would 
add  a  new  terror  to  the 
life  of  the  suburban  land- 
lord. 

Visitors  to  Tangier, 
Morocco,  will  recognise 
in  the  subject  of  our 
next  photograph  a  well- 
known  character  of  that 
city.  This  man  is  a 
noted  snake  -  charmer, 
and     in    the    snap  -  shot 


reproduced  he  has  got 
his  tongue  between  the 
snake's  jaws.  After  this 
performance,  to  show 
there  is  no  deception, 
he  goes  round  the  audi- 
ence and  shows  his 
tongue  bleeding  from  the 
result  of  the  bite.  After 
this  somewhat  repulsive 
exhibition  the  snake- 
charmer  placed  the  head 
of  the  snake  close  to  his 
open  eye,  without  injury. 
Whether  this  was  due  to 
some  influence  which  the 
man  possessed,  or  to  the 
reptile's  fear  of  the  glare 
in  his  eye;  the  correspon- 
dent sending  the  picture 
was  unable  to  discover. 
The  man  had  scores  of 
snakes  in  the  canvas 
bag  by  his  side,  and 
treated  them  all  in  the 
while  his  assistant  discoursed 
sweet  "music." 

On  the  next  page  is  a  snap-shot  from  Cape 
Coast  Castle,  showing  a  party  of  Wongara 
natives  celebrating  Christmas  in  their  own 
fashion,  with  much  noise  and  shouting.  The 
instruments  of  the  band  shown  in  the  centre 
of  the  picture  are  somewhat  curious  and  a 
trifle    cumbrous,     but     the     sounds    produced 


same 


manner, 

"  i 


THE   SNAKE-CHARMER    OK 


TANGIER,    A    WELL-KNOWN    LOCAL   CHARACTER 

From  a  Photo. 


ODDS    AND    ENDS. 


3ti 


n 


•....« 


used  as  in  the  olden  days,  and  the 
"Black  Marias"  row  between  it 
and  the  railway  station,  or  any 
other  point  in  the  city  when-  it  is 
necessary  to  convey  thieves  and 
other  criminals.  The  little  cabin 
can  be  locked,  and  its  window 
is  barred.  Should  the  gondola 
"Black  Maria"  upset  the  caged 
prisoner  would  have  a  bad  time 
of  it,  and  probably  drown  inside 
his  box.  All  tilings  considered, 
the  Venetian  prison-van  is  pro- 
bably the  most  picturesque  in  the 
world — and  the  most  secure. 

Hazardous    long-distance    voy 
ages    in   small    boats    seem    to    be 
on    the    increase.      Only   a   month 
or    so   ago  we   published  accounts 
of      two     remarkable    journeys     of 


A     CHRISTMAS     FESTIVAL     AT     CAPE     COAST 

From  a]  castle.  {Photo. 


from    them    are     not     altogether 
without  harmony. 

The  photograph  below  shows 
the  "  Black  Maria,"  or  prison- 
van,  of  Venice.  As  will  be  seen 
it  takes  the  inevitable  Venetian 
form  of  a  gondola.  One  or  two 
of  these  "  Black  Marias "  may 
always  be  noticed  lying  moored 
beside  the  prison  to  which  the 
Bridge  of  Sighs  leads  from  the 
I  )oge's  Palace.     The  prison  is  still 


THE         BLACK     MARIA 

From  a  Photo.  by\ 


-VAN     OF     VENICE. 
OF    A   GONDOLA. 


:es    the  characteristh     form 
|  //  'ard  Muir. 


THIS      I.ITTI  E      PI  >R1  V-l  i'i|       LI 

ENGLAND     IN     AUGUST     LAM      BOUND     FOR 

From  a]  AUSTRALIA.  [Photo. 


this   kind,    and    now   another 

enterprise  of  a  similar 
nature  claims  attention.  The 
above  photograph  represents 
the  Brighton,  a  forty  -  fool 
ketch  which  left  Brighton, 
England,  on  the  20th  of 
August,  bound  for  Australia. 
The  little  vessel  is  manned 
by  two  men  and  a  dog,  and 
the  main  object  of  their 
adventurous  voyage  is  to 
search  among  the  uninhabited 
islands  of  the  South  Atlantic 
Ocean  for  the  brother 
one  of  the  pair.  This  brother 
was  shipwrecked  some 
years    ago    and     never     again 


3" 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


heard  of,  and  it  is  thought 
that  he  may  have  been 
cast  away  on  one  of  these 
islands.  '■  The  progress  of 
this  remarkable  quest 
will  be  watched  with 
interest. 

At  first  sight  the  next 
photograph  looks  a  little 
startling,  but  for  the 
benefit  of  timid  readers 
we  hasten  to  assure  them 
that  the  alligator  is  quite 
dead.  Otherwise,  as  with 
the  adventurous  young 
lady  who  went  for  a  ride 
on  a  tiger,  the  little 
girl  would  probably  be 
"inside,"  and  her  happy 
smile  transferred  to.  the 
face  of  the  alligator. 
The  monster  was 
shot  about  two  miles 
from  the  New  Sanford 
House  Hotel,  at  Sanford,  Florida, 
measured      fourteen      feet      in      length, 


from  a.\ 


A    STARTLING    SNAI'-SHOT    FROM    FLORIDA. 


{Photo. 


He 

and 


was   estimated    to  be  over  two  hundred    years 
old. 


Widow  Simpsons 
Journey 


JIMaqsierTurtfe 
&  Gold-fish  Farm 

v-  The  Moonshiners 


Ac  Princess's 

LoVe  Story 


\  FlGHT  WITH  A  STINO-I^AY 


how  the  bushrangers 
Came  to  Nulla 


<*? 


THE    NOVEL    MAP-CONTENTS   OF    "  THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE,"    WHICH    SHOWS    AT    A    GLANCE    THE    LOCALITY   OF    EACH    ARTICLE 

AND   NARRATIVE   OF    ADVENTURE    IN    THIS    NUMBER. 


"WE   SOON   LOOSENED   THE   BOGUS   BRICKWORK   BLOCKING    UP   THE   PASSAGE." 

(see  page  323.) 


The  Wide  World  Magazine. 


Vol.  XIV. 


FEBRUARY,    1905. 


No.  82. 


♦  4 


CASTLE    DANGEROUS. 


By  Captain  Wilton  Forster,  Late  of  the    Imperial  Chinese  Navy. 

"Castle  Dangerous"  was  the  nickname  of  a  Chinese  fort  built  to  protect  a  district  against 
pirates  and  banditti.  Six  times  these  gentry  had  attacked  and  captured  it,  putting  the  hapless 
defenders  to  death,  and  when  Captain  Forster  was  placed  in  command  he  prepared  for  an  exciting 
time.  Almost  too  late  he  discovered  that  the  place  was  a  veritable  death-trap,  and  had  to  resort 
to    a    desperate    and    startling   expedient    to    save    himself  and  his  men. 


HO  it  was  that  first  gave  the  fort  on 
the  Si-kiang,  just  below  Wu-chau, 
on  the  borders  of  Kwang-tung  and 
Kwang-si,  the  title  of  that  yarn  of 
Sir  Walter  Scott's,  by  which  it  came 
to  be  known  far  and  wide,  I  cannot  pretend  to 
say.  But  I  can  vouch  for  the  suitability  of  the 
sobriquet-  and,  to  come  to  the  point,  it  was  a 
personal  experience  of  mine  at  that  border 
death-trap  which  enables  me  to  do  so.  Perhaps 
it  was  because  I  had  already  been  very  success- 
ful for  so  young  an  officer  that,  when  poor 
Captain  W-  —  was  killed  whilst  endeavouring 
to    hold    this  uncanny   station,    I   was   selected 

to    fill  the  vacancy.       The  officer  that  W 

had  replaced  had  also  one  dark  night 
been  left  for  dead  by  the  same  rascally 
smugglers  (reinforced  by  "  Black  Flags  "  and 
pirates)  who  had  attacked  the  place  before. 
Moreover,  on  four  previous  occasions  "  Castle 
Dangerous "  had  been  stormed  and  those 
who  resisted  put  to  the  sword.  Such,  then, 
was  its  interesting  record  when  I  received 
orders  to  take  charge.  However,  my  application 
to  be  allowed  to  take  forty  picked  men  of  my 
own  ashore  with  me  was  not  only  granted,  but  a 
requisition  that  I  had  sent  in  for  a  supply  of 
English  powder  was  promptly  complied  with. 
My  love  of  adventure,  therefore,  got  the  upper 
hand  of  my  prudence,  and  the  shocking  tragedies 
that  had  been  enacted  at  my  new  station  were 
utterly  disregarded.  The  broad  grins,  too,  that 
I  saw  on  the  faces  of  the  "  Forty  Thieves,"  as 
my  Flakkas  were  most  unnecessarily  nick- 
named, greatly  pleased  me — for  none  knew  the 
risk  we  took  better  than  they  ! 

All  the  glamour  of  a  glorious  sunset  had  fallen 
upon  the  white  walls  and  battlemented  tower  of 
"  Castle  Dangerous  "  when  I  first  set  eyes  upon 
it  from  the  bridge  of  my  hired  tug-boat  as  she 
rounded  the  bend  of  the  river  near  which  it 

Vol.  xiv,— 40. 


stood.  Here  and  there,  just  peeping  out  from 
small  clumps  of  trees,  were  the  "family  houses" 
of  rich  men,  their  quaintly-decorated  walls  and 
queer-shaped  roofs  all  most  wonderfully  and 
fearfully  embellished  with  marvellous  porcelain 
monsters.  Just  behind  these  was  the  main  road 
that  led  from  one  province  into  the  other,  and 
beside  it,  but  slightly  above,  stood  the  station 
— half  Custom-house,  half  fort— that  had  given 
such  umbrage  to  the  border  desperadoes.  High 
hills,  clothed  with  bush,  rose  at  a  distance  ol 
about  eight  or  nine  hundred  yards  from  its 
flanks,  whilst  its  rear  commanded  a  long  stretch 
of  broad  river,  by  the  side  of  which  stood  a 
village.  Hence  "Castle  Dangerous  "  occupied 
almost  die  centre  of  a  valley  nearly  a  mile  long 
and  rather  less  in  width,  which  sloped  down  on 
two  sides  towards  the  water,  whilst  along  its 
highest  part — a  low  ridge — passed  the  only 
road  leading  over  the  border.  These  details 
need  to  be  understood  in  view  of  subsequent 
happenings. 

The  oldest  part  of  the  fort  was  a  brick  build- 
ing, which  had  been  intentionally  or  accidentally 
so  designed  as  to  render  it  merely  suitable  for  a 
Chinese  Customs  Station.  It  was  in  reality  a 
magnified  house,  with  unusually  stout  briek 
walls  and  a  tiled  roof;  but,  being  eventually 
discovered  to  be  indefensible,  a  strong,  square 
stone  tower  had  been  added,  the  flat  roof  of 
which  was  capable  of  allowing  nine-pounder 
guns  to  be  worked  upon  it.  whilst  its  windows 
— few  and  small — were  supplemented  by  some 
loop-holes  for  rifle  lire,  though  not  enough. 
This-  the  only  part  that  really  had  any  pre- 
tensions to  be  called  a  "fort'"  was  virtually  a 
wing  of  the  older  building,  with  which  it  com- 
municated by  doors  cut  through  its  walls  on 
each  floor.  Upon  the  roof  I  found  two  anti- 
quated Chinese  iron  guns  and  two  wooden 
dummies.  Personally,  I  think  I  would  almost 
rather  have  attempted  to  fire  the  dummies  !     I 


316 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


promptly  made  up  my  mind  to  have  all  these 
four  frauds  out  of  it  that  very  night,  and  to 
commandeer  the  two  new  brass  "  nines  "  out  of 
our  vessel. 

The  next  cheerful  discovery  I  made  was  that 
a  most  barefaced  "  squeeze  "  had  been  effected 
by  the  officials  in  having  a  wooden  veranda  on 
wooden  pillars  built  running  round  the  brick 
building,  instead  of  a  brickwork  one  on  stone 
supports,  which  doubtless  had  been  charged  for. 
However,  the  only  door  by  which  either  part  of 
the  fort  could  be  entered  from  the  outside  was 
of  thick  teak,  covered  with  iron  plating  and 
secured  by  stout  iron  bars.  This  opened  info  a 
large  hall,  on  either  side  of  which  were  two 
great  guard-rooms  capable  of  containing  twenty- 
five  Chinese  apiece.  Underneath  these  were  a 
strong-room  and  store,  and  behind  these  again 
a  dark,  cavern-like  cell  that  apparently  extended' 
as  far  as  the  foun- 
dations of  the  only 
house  between  the 
fort  and  the  vil- 
lage.. This  place 
had  certainly  been 
used  for  extorting 
confessions  from 
prisoners  by  some 
of  my  Mandarin 
predecessors,  as 
the  various  un- 
canny instruments 
of  torture  then 
rotting  or  rusting 
in  disuse  clearly 
testified.  Why  the 
house  over  the 
farthest  end  of  the 
v-aul  t  had  not 
been  pulled  down 
rather  puzzled  me. 
As  it  was  empty, 
however,  and  the 
dark  cell  near  its 
foundation  then 
disused,  I  had  a 
large  number  of 
kegs  of  powder 
carefully  trans- 
ferred from  the 
open  store  -  room 
and  deposited    there    for  still  greater  security. 

My  quarters  and  those  of  my  European  petty 
officers  were  situated  upon  the  floor  above  the 
hall  and  guard-rooms.  My  rooms  (for  coolness) 
had  had  their  original  four  small  windows  en- 
larged into  "  French  "  ones,  that  were  virtually 
double  glass  doors,  with  wooden  Venetian 
shutters.      This  was  a  sad  blunder  of   my  un- 


I    NOTICED     THAT    A    LAkGE    NATIVE    VESSEL     WAS     SHIFTING     HEK     MASTHEAD 

LIGHT   ABOUT." 


fortunate  predecessor's,  as  they  — like  a  similar 
window  in  the  store-room— opened  upon  the 
large  wooden  veranda  running  round  the  front 
of  the  "fort." 

Two  months  had  passed  without  the  slightest 
attempt  being  made  to  molest  us,  and  my  men 
in  consequence  began  to  chafe  at  the  un- 
wontedly  tight  hand  I  kept  over  them  and  the 
numerous  precautions  I  still  insisted  on  taking. 
One  night  as  I  sat  on  the  roof,  listening  to  the 
measured  tread  of  the  sentries  and  listlessly 
staring  down  at  the  black  waters  of  the  broad 
river  beneath  me,  I  noticed  that  a  large  native 
vessel,  a  new-comer,  was  shifting  her  masthead 
light  about  without  the  slightest  rhyme  or  reason 
that  I  could  discover — except  it  were  for  signal- 
ling. A  mere  trifle,  doubtless,  and  possibly  the 
motive  for  it  was  a  harmless  one,  but  as  I 
happened  to  have  a  high  official  of  the  native 

Customs  staying 
at  the  fort,  who 
had  a  very  large 
amount  of  silver 
in  mat  sacks  with 
him,  I  was  just 
then  even  more 
than  ordinarily 
suspicious  of  all 
trifles.  So,  going 
below,  I  tapped 
quietly  at  the  door 
of  the  Europeans' 
sleeping-room,  and 
warned  my  ser- 
geant-instructor, 
Stanley,  to  send 
young  Gamble,  the 
petty  officer,  out 
in  the  dinghy  with 
orders  to  keep  a 
wary  eye  upon  the 
stranger's  move 
ments,  especiall) 
just  before  dawn, 
and  to  report  im- 
mediately the  least 
sign  of  anything 
unusual  aboard 
her. 

Then,  seeing 
that  some  of  my 
smartest  hands  were  doing  "  sentry-go,"  I 
turned  in.  Nor  was  I  disturbed  till  some 
time  after  sunrise  the  next  morning,  when,  as 
I  sat  writing  my  report,  Stanley  knocked  at  my 
door. 

"Well,  what  is  it?"  I  said,  annoyed  at  the 
interruption. 

"  Young  Gamble,  sir,  has  not  returned,  and  I 


"CASTLE    DANGEROUS. 


317 


can  see  nothing  of  your  little  dinghy  or  the 
strange  vessel  either." 

''Indeed!  Then  send  the  interpreter  up  at 
once." 

But  he  was  already  waiting  on  the  veranda  to 
speak  to  me,  and  anxiously  inquired  if  I  would 
come  and  look  at  the  strange  vessel.  "  Missir 
'Tanley  no  can  see,  'cause  he  just  then  t'other 
side  the  hill." 

"  Why  should  I  go  ?  "  I  interrupted. 

"  Because  I  think  you  will  know  he,  sir." 

So,  picking  up  my  glass,  I  reluctantly  re- 
linquished my  report  and  climbed  up  the  hills 
on  our  right,  whence  a  good  view  of  the 
other  side  of  the  bend  of  the  river  was  obtain- 
able. 

"  There  she  is,  sir  ! "  excitedly  shouted  my 
interpreter,  as  he  scrambled  round  a  projecting 
point,  and  when  I  brought  my  glass  to  bear  my 
involuntary  whistle  told  him  all  he  wanted  to 
know.  For  below  us  and  not  more  than  a  mile 
away  lay  the  largest  vessel  of  a  notorious  leader 
of  river-pirates  and  long-shore  banditti— one 
Mew-ah-Pew  !  Now,  this  desperado  had  long 
been  "wanted  "  for  murders  of  officials,  piratical 
attacks  on  European  and  native  vessels,  many 
acts  of  brigandage,  and  the  looting  of  several 
small  towns,  two  of  them  in  British  territory. 
Hence  I  quickly  grasped  the  fact  that  the 
arrival  of  this  desperado  and  his  men  was  what 
the  local  smugglers  and  "  Black  Flags  "  (who  had 
lately  been  very  troublesome)  were  waiting  for 
before  attacking  "  Castle  Dangerous "  for  the 
seventh  time  !  Fortunately,  from  the  position 
I  had  then  gained,  I  could  just  make  out 
the  dinghy's  sail  far  up  the  river,  ap- 
parently making  for  the  fort.  Running  back 
to  the  fort,  I  commenced  my  preparations 
for  checkmating  the  plans  of  this  confederacy 
of  rascals,  my  men  almost  tumbling  over  each 
other  in  their  eagerness  to  get  to  work  on  the 
defences.  The  lower  windows  were  first  blocked 
with  pyramids  of  great  stones,  small  crevices 
only  being  left  to  fire  through.  Then  a  strong 
barricade  of  stones  and  mat-bags  full  of  earth 
was  built  up  some  three  yards  behind  the  door, 
in  a  semicircle,  the  least  dangerously  honey- 
combed of  the  Chinese  guns  being  hoisted  up 
from  below  and  placed  upon  the  less  rotten  of 
the  two  carriages.  The  greatly  reduced  charge 
of  powder  inserted  was  compensated  for  by  an 
extra  dose  of  grape-shot,  and  then  this  rather 
doubtful  weapon  was  run  into  the  centre  of  the 
barricade,  through  which  its  muzzle  protruded. 
The  fire-buckets  were  filled  and  placed  near  the 
wretched  wooden  veranda,  upon  which  some 
mat-bngs  of  earth  were  placed,  but  as  this  crazy 
structure  had  also  to  bear  the  weight  of  eight 
or  nine  men  to  defend  it,  not  nearly  so  many  as 


it  needed  could  be  used.  Barricades  were  built 
up  behind  the  great  windows,  the  small  ones 
were  partially  blocked  up,  the  cook-houses  dis- 
mantled, and  then  I  ordered  my  men  to  get  an 
early  evening  meal. 

During  dinner  Gamble  returned,  much 
exhausted  and  somewhat  scared  at  his  narrow 
shave  of  being  captured.  He  reported,  how- 
ever, that  the  strange  vessel  was  full  of  men, 
carried  eight  long  twelve-pounders  on  each 
broadside,  and  had  two  "  short  sixes "  on  her 
stern,  whilst  several  large  boats  were  made  fast 
alongside  her. 

We  did  not  have  long  to  wait  for  the  coming 
of  the  pirates.  Darkness  had  already  fallen 
when,  happening  to  look  through  one  of  the 
loopholes  by  the  side  of  the  door,  I  was  startled 
at  hearing  a  voice  a  little  distance  off,  the 
owner  of  which  was  quite  invisible,  demanding 
admittance. 

"  What  do  you  want,  my  man  ?  "  I  shouted 
back. 

"  To' speak  to  the  head  foreign  officer." 

"  More  better  you  take  care,  ca-pi  tan,"  sud- 
denly broke  in  one  of  my  men,  nicknamed 
"  The  Bird  of  111  Omen."  "  My  can  savvy  he 
voice  ;  he  must  belong  Mew-ah-Pew  !  " 

"  Be  quiet,  Bird,"  I  ordered,  and  then  called 
out,  "  You  must  come  after  daybreak,  my  man," 
as  I  quickly  stepped  back  from  the  loophole. 

But  nothing  worse  than  sanguinary  threats, 
embellished  by  verbal  nastiness,  came  through 
it  as  my  disappointed  visitor  decamped.  For  I 
could  not  fire  at  him  without  being  certain, 
though  the  "  Bird's"  carbine  had  almost  gone 
off  of  itself;  besides,  he  could  have  seen 
nothing  of  our  defences,  the  darkness  being  too 
intense.  For  some  time  after  this  all  was  quiet, 
but  I  could  make  out  from  the  roof  of  the  tower, 
with  my  night  glass,  that  torches  were  moving 
about  on  the  hillsides  in  both  directions.  Even 
while  I  was  watching  them  the  whole  valley 
beneath  me  suddenly  became  spotted  and 
fringed  with  flashes  of  fire,  the  first  spattering  of 
bullets  upon  our  walls  and  roof  being  followed 
by  the  singing  of  others  just  over  my  head. 
But  I  needed  to  husband  the  cartridges  for  my 
forty  Snider  breechloaders,  so  my  Hakkas  made 
no  reply. 

Not  a  single  star  was  then  visible,  the  inky 
darkness  being  intensified  by  banks  of  thick 
grey  mist  that  hovered  over  the  hills  and  at 
times  obscured  everything  even  under  1 
very  nose— an  ideal  night  for  a  surprise  attack. 
I  suspected  that  the  different  bodies  of 
smugglers  and  "  Black  Flags "  advancing  on 
the  fort  were  being  led  by  trained  men  — 
probably  deserters  from  the  French  Annarnese 
regiments— and  the  appearance  of  torches  at  all 


3i3 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


the  commanding  positions  and  coigns  of  vantage 
around  us  speedily  proved  this.  A  number  of 
riflemen  were  posted  on  the  roofs  of  the  "family 
houses  "  amongst  the  trees  on  our  left  front,  and 
the  bullets  from  this  direction  soon  literally 
rained  upon  our  front.  Seeing  this  1  sent  my 
gunner,  Ling,  and  his  mates  to  the  nine-pounder 
commanding  the  little  hamlet,  and  as  we  knew 
the  distance  to  a  yard  the  first  few  bursts  of  its 
spherical  shell  promptly  cleared  all  the  roofs. 
But  greater  danger  now  threatened  from  the 
side  of  the  road.  The  mist  had  enabled  our 
assailants  to  occupy 
unseen  the  bank 
below  it,  which 
sloped  down  to  the 
paddy  -  fields,  and 
then  at  a  distance  of 
little  over  a  hundred 
yards  they  main- 
tained a  fusillade 
that  was  most  gall- 
ing. Nor  could  I 
shift  them  out  of  it, 
either  with  dis- 
charges of  grape  and 
canister  or  carbine 
fire.  Presently,  too, 
their  rifles  and  mus- 
kets were  reinforced 
by  half-a-dozen 
heavy  gingals  throw- 
ing iron  balls  of  from 
half  a  pound  to 
nearly  a  pound  in 
weight.  These, 
crashing  through  the 
dry,  soft  wooden 
beams  of  the  ver- 
anda, tore  and  rip- 
ped the  mat-bags  of 
earth  behind  them, 
and  as  these  were 
destroyed  the  men 
defending  it  began 
to  fall  fast.  Finally 
I  had  to  abandon 
the  veranda  alto- 
gether, confining  my 
men's    fire     to    the 

apertures  of  the  partly  -  blocked  windows. 
The  gentry  opposite,  discerning  this  move, 
stopped  their  exultant  yells,  and  so  enabled 
me  to  catch  the  bullying  tones  of  Mew-ah-Pew 
himself,  evidently  hustling  his  men  into  attempt- 
ing some  unusually  daring  piece  of  devilment. 
The  nature  of  this  I  began  to  suspect  when 
scrambling  and  crunching  sounds  on  the  tiles 
of  the  dismantled  cook- houses,  which  the  mist 


MY    MEN    \\  ERE    I  >KI  \'b;> 


and  smoke  had  enabled  the  pirates  to  scale 
unperceived,  were  followed  by  the  appear- 
ance of  a  dozen  or  more  sparks  of  fire  that 
oscillated  violently  in  mid -air  in  line  with 
the  veranda.  Although  in  less  time  than  it 
takes  me  to  write  it  the  carbines  at  the  loop- 
holes opposite  the  cook-houses  were  blazing 
out,  the  screams  and  sounds  of  heavy  falls  that 
instantly  followed  were  drowned  in  the  noise  of 
loud  crashes  as  a  number  of  large,  round  earthen- 
ware objects  smashed  on  the  wall  at  the  back  of 
the  veranda.     Flashes  of  flame,  dense  volumes 

of  fetid  black  smoke, 
and  a  suffocating 
stench  from  the  hor- 
ribly  poisonous 
fumes  of  the  foul 
gases  liberated  by 
the  explosions  in- 
stantly arose,  and 
my  men  were  driven 
pell  -  mell  from  the 
windows  in  front  of 
the  -veranda.  The 
assailants  had  hurled 
a  shower  of  stink- 
pots amongst  us  ! 
The  explosion  of 
these  vile  contri- 
vances set  fire  to 
the  dry  pine -wood 
of  the  veranda,  the 
flames  first  winding 
round  its  supports 
and  then  commenc- 
ing to  lick  the  balus- 
trades and  pillars 
with  their  forked 
tongues,  lighting  up 
the  whole  front  of 
the  building  with 
their  glare.  Soon 
the  whole  of  the 
veranda  became  one 
great  sheet  of  flame, 
the  heat  and  smoke 
from  which  speedily 
rendered  the  rooms 
behind  it  untenable, 
so  I  retired  my  men 
to  the  hall  and  guard-rooms,  only  attempting  to 
hold  the  roof  of  the  tower  and  the  two  rooms 
under  it.  Before  I  had  been  long  in  the  hall, 
however,  the  smell  of  charring  wood  drew  my 
attention  to  the  great  entrance-door,  where  a  new 
danger  threatened. 

Whilst  we  were  occupied  above,  stamping  out 
the  danger  from  the  rapidly  igniting  woodwork 
(the  window-frames  having  caught  fire  from  the 


!■  Kl  i.M     i  HE    WINDOWS. 


"CASTLE    DANGEROUS. 


319 


veranda),  Mew-ah-Pew's  men  had  apparently 
been  watching  the  smouldering  frame  of  the 
great  door  as  the  burning  debris  from  above 
accumulated  in  front  of  it,  and  whilst  their 
movements  were  completely  masked  by  the 
thick  smoke  they  had  fastened  enormous  shields 
of  tough  plaited  rattans  to  bundles  of  damp 
grass  hay  so  as  to  form  a  barricade.  Under 
cover  of  this  they  had  converted  three  long 
spars  landed  from  their  vessel  into  a  shear-legs 
or  tripod,  whilst  dangling  from  this  by  a  stout 
grass  cable  was  a  heavy  gravestone,  which  they 
must  have  torn  from  some  old  tomb  upon  the 
hillside.  The  true  state  of  affairs  was  most 
fortunately  revealed  to  us  by  a  sudden  up- 
shooting  of  the  rapidly- 
dying  flames  as  the  last 
beams  and  posts  of  the 
wretched  wooden  ver- 
anda crashed  down  upon 
the  other  debris  below. 
The  few  seconds  the 
fierce  glare  lasted,  how- 
ever, saved  the  situation, 
for  the  warped  ironwork 
and  half-charred  plank- 
ing of  the  great  door,  I 
realized  at  once,  could 
never  withstand  the  tre- 
mendous strain  of  the 
impact  of  a  gravestone, 
weighing  some  three  or 
four  hundredweight, 
striking  it  at  the  full  re- 
bound, after  being  swung 
out  backwards  from  the 
spar-shears. 

I  had  barely  time  to 
gather  a  dozen  of  my 
oldest  hands  and  rush 
down  to  the  hall  when 
the  heavy  entrance  door 
crashed  in  backwards, 
its  great  hinges  and  bolts 
being  literally  torn  from 
their  sockets  by  the 
shock  ;  whilst  across  it, 
as  it  lay  prone,  surged 
an  inrushing  mob  of 
savage  smugglers  and 
banditti,  yelling  like 
fiends,  "  Tah  !  Tah  !  " 
("Kill  !  Kill  !")  It  was 
a  veritable  nightmare 
vision  of  brawny,  evil- 
visaged  ruffians,  seen  by 
the  sickly  yellow  light  of 
their  oiled  paper  torches. 
These   could    have    but 


dimly  outlined  the  strong  barricade  and  grin- 
ning gun-muzzle  upon  which,  instead  of  into 
a  weakly  defended  hall,  the  pressure  of  those 
behind  precipitated  the  leaders  of  the  rush. 
Carbine  triggers  were  pressed  and  gun-lanyard 
jerked  simultaneously,  and  when  the  clouds  of 
dust  and  black  smoke,  which  nearly  choked  us, 
had  cleared  a  bit  not  one  of  the  stormers  was 
visible,  though  those  that  had  escaped  that 
deadly  blast  of  fire  and  lead  were  audible  enough, 
their  furious  yells  of  rage  and  defiance  drawing 
another  carbine  volley   in   their  direction. 

"  Quick,  men  !  "  I  cried  ;  "  up  with  the  door 
again  and  then  shift  some  of  these  big  stones 
against  the  bottom  of  it.     Gamble,  get  up  the 


IT    WAS   A    VKRITABI.K    NIGHTMARE    ' 


32° 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


gig's  anchor-chain    and   cross   it    through   any 
staples  left." 

For  the  tough  teak  planking,  though  split,  was 
held  in  place  by  the  bulged  sheet-iron  that  still 
covered  it,  and  would  serve  to  keep  out  the 
shower  of  lead  which  again  began  to  patter 
upon  it.  The  old  gun  that  had  done  such  exe- 
cution was  apparently  none  the  worse,  though 
its  crazy  carriage  had  let  one  trunnion  get  adrift; 
this,  however,  was  quickly  repaired  and  the  gun 
reloaded. 

A  fact  that  had  greatly  puzzled  me  was  that 
hitherto  Mew-ah-Pew,  who  appeared  to  be 
leading  the  attack,  had  relied  upon  rifle-fire  and 
gingal-shot  instead  of,  as  usual,  bringing  the  six- 
pounders  on  his  vessel's  stern  ashore. 

Half  an  hour  passed,  and  the  extreme 
tension,  trying  and  irksome  enough  to  me,  after 
hours  of  incessant  watchfulness,  seemed  to  chafe 
and  irritate  my  younger  men  almost  to  madness. 
All  attempts  to  search  the  pall-like  blackness 
beyond  the  fort  failed,  however.  Then  suddenly 
the  glare  of  a  heavy  gingal's  premature  discharge 
— for  so  the  venomous  curses  proclaimed  it — 
disclosed  four  long 
lines  of  barefooted 
men  stealing  steal- 
thily forward, 
spear  in  hand  and 
scaling  -  ladder  on 
shoulder.  The 
next  minute  all  was 
black  darkness 
again. 

Hastily  examin- 
ing the  barricades, 
I  added  to  the  few 
m  en  d e f e n d i n g 
them  such  of  the 
wounded  as  clam- 
oured for  permis- 
sion to  crawl  there. 
Little  need  had  I 
to  warn  these  that 
success  for  the 
stormers  spelt  swift 
death  to  all  of  us, 
as  their  angry  "  Hi, 
Hi's!  "  emphasized 
by  the  sharp  snaps 
of  sword-bayonets 
clinching  on  car- 
bine muzzles,  told 
me. 

Now,  all  through 
the  attack  such 
accurate  know- 
ledge of  all  our 
weak    points    had 


'MEW-AH-PEW    HIMSELF    HAD   GAINED   A    FIKM    FOOTHOLD. 


been  evinced  that  I  was  in  no  way  surprised 
when  the  scaling  ladders  proved  not  only  the 
right  length,  but  also  so  wide  that,  when  lashed 
together  in  pairs,  they  exactly  fitted  the  great 
apertures  left  at  the  burnt  window-frames,  thus 
permitting  four  men  to  mount  abreast  at  each. 
My  men  held  their  fire  till  the  stormers  were 
actually  mounting  the  ladders,  and  then  most  of 
the  leaders  were  swept  away  by  it.  But  their 
places  were  instantly  taken  by  those  behind, 
and  the  last  cartridges  on  which  there  was  time 
to  close  the  breech-blocks  had  been  expended 
when  the  stormers  simultaneously  swarmed  into 
the  window  spaces.  Then  came  an  inferno  of 
hand-to-hand  fighting.  One  desperado  was 
actually  half  inside  the  store-room  when  my 
interpreter's  pistol  dropped  him  in  the  very  nick 
of  time.  But  most  danger  threatened  from  the 
second  window,  where  Mew-ah-Pew  himself,  a 
man  of  almost  gigantic  stature,  had  gained  a 
firm  foothold  inside  the  burnt  window-frame. 
My  young  orderly  and  the  veteran  "  Bird  "  both 
went  for  him,  but  he  felled  one  like  an  ox  with 
the   heavy  pistol  he  flung  at   him   and  shot  the 

other  through  the 
right  shoulder. 
The  banditti 
leader's  sash  was 
stuck  full  of 
double  -  barrelled 
pistols,  and  when 
another  man  paid 
for  his  rashness  by 
going  down  before 
the  pirate's  ready 
weapon  my  Hak- 
kas  hung  back, 
none  of  the  rest 
caring  to  take  on 
the  giant  singly. 
As  he  stood  in  the 
shadow  of  the 
yawning  breach 
the  burnt  window 
had  left,  he  seemed 
like  some  ugly  pic- 
ture in  an  appro- 
priate frame  of 
ebon  blackness  — - 
the  centre  of  a 
group  of  mad- 
dened men  locked 
in  the  wickedest 
fight  of  all,  where 
cold  steel  crossed 
and  no  mercy  was 
shown.  It  was  a 
hideous  mclce,  in 
which  the  exultant 


"CASTLE     DANGEROUS." 


121 


yells  of  the  pirates  in  the  window  apertures 
were  mingled  with  the  screams  and  groans  of 
wounded  and  dying  men  as  they  lay  in  heaps 
at  the  foot  of  the  ladders. 

Leaving  the  loophole  where  I  had  been  fight 
ing,  with  my  heavy  Colt's  frontier  pistol  in  my 
hand,  I  rushed  forward  to  rally  my  disheartened 
men,  whom  the  gigantic  pirate  seemed  to  have 
overawed  by  the  rapid  discharges  of  his  double- 
barrelled  pistols.  Unfortunately,  at  that  precise 
moment  another  of  my  favourite  Hakkas  went 
down,  and  this,  added  to  the  severe  punishment 
we  had  endured  for  long  hours,  started  me 
"seeing  red,"  for  I  neglected  to  keep  to  the 
back  of  the  rooms  —  the  wooden  partitions 
between  which  had  been  removed — so  that  the 
lantern-rays  gave  me  away  and  Mew-ah-Pew 
detected  me.  His  pistol  flashed  out  twice,  one 
bullet  cutting  through  my  cap-peak  and  scoring 
my  cheek,  the  other  ripping  my  leg  from  knee 
to  ankle.  The  smarting  and  bleeding  that 
followed  sent  me  back  to  the  barricade  before 
I  received  another  such  gentle  hint  as  to  the 
value  of  shelter.  From  behind  this  I  fired  care- 
fully at  the  next  flash  of  the  pirate's  pistol. 
The  desperado  staggered  and  swayed  from  the 
shock  and  clutched  convulsively  at  the  brick- 
work, but  only  to  fall  through  it  upon  the 
stormers  beneath.  Delighted  yells  from  the 
Hakkas  behind  me  followed  as,  the  fall  of 
their  leader  proving  too  much  for  our  assailants, 
suddenly  and  silently  they  dropped  from  the 
ladders  and  disappeared  in  the  darkness  as 
quickly  as  they  had  come.  My  men,  despite 
the  dropping  bullets,  promptly  dragged  the 
scaling-ladders  inside  the  fort,  lest  there  should 
be  a  rally.  However,  the  behaviour  of  the 
"  Black  Flags  "  perplexed  and  disturbed  me,  for 
I  knew  these  men  to  be  as  well  led  and  armed 
as  noted  for  courage.  Nevertheless,  all  the 
part  that  they  had  taken  in  the  attack  hitherto 
had  been  to  envelop  the  fort  and  fire  into  the 
windows  and  loopholes  from  under  good  cover, 
without  making  the  slightest  attempt  to  come  to 
close  quarters.  This  looked  to  me  as  if  our 
most  dangerous  enemies  were  reserving  them- 
selves till  reduced  numbers,  exhaustion,  and 
ruined  defences  had  told  their  tale,  so  as  to 
make  the  success  of  their  attack  a  certainty. 
Time  alone  would  show,  I  thought,  and  I 
longed  for  the  light  of  day  to  dawn  and  end  the 
most  terrible  night  I  had  ever  known.  Mean- 
while, after  serving  out  a  small  ration  of  brandy 
and  soft  biscuits  from  my  own  "  medical 
comforts "  to  the  exhausted  men,  I  tried  to 
strengthen  the  defences  of  the  upper  story,  but 
the  firing,  smartening  up  again,  compelled  us  to 
stop. 

In   the  thick  of  the  shooting  there  came  to 

Vol.  xiv.— 41. 


my  ears  a  soft  whistle  followed  by  the  words, 
"Ca-pi-tan,  come  top-side."  Scrambling  up  the 
stairway,  I  sprang  across  the  tower  to  the 
embrasure  facing  the  village,  from  which  the 
look-outs  were  then  intently  watching  the  empty 
house  some  twenty- five  yards  or  so  from  the 
fort.  This,  having  no  windows  or  opening 
facing  us,  and  lying  just  under  our  guns,  I 
naturally  supposed  would  be  left  severely  alone 
by  any  enemy.  After  listening  carefully  for  a 
minute  or  two,  I  could  distinctly  hear  a  muffled 
sound  as  if  heavy  blows  were  being  directed 
against  the  inside  of  the  house  wall  facing  us, 
and  at  two  different  points  of  it  simultaneously. 

"There  are  men  at  work  there,  gunner,''  said 
I.  "  Go  and  tell  Mr.  Stanley  to  man  the  small 
windows  and  rifle-slits  at  the  back,  and  then 
collect  your  mates  and  train  this  gun  on  the 
house  yonder."  I  needed  to  await  further 
developments  before  firing,  however,  lest  I 
chanced  to  wipe  out  merely  harmless  villagers 
who,  alarmed  at  the  attack,  were  sheltering  in 
the  empty  house. 

I  had  not  been  listening  long,  however,  before 
the  sounds  became  much  louder — like  bricks 
falling — and  soon  after  suddenly  ceased  alto- 
gether. Rumbling  and  creaking  noises  followed, 
as  if  heavy  weights  were  being  dragged  over  a 
cemented  floor.  By  this  time  the  house  lay  in 
that  denser  darkness  which  seems  to  prevail 
before  day-dawn,  and  which  my  night-glass 
quite  failed  to  pierce.  We  had  watched  for  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  longer  without  anything 
resulting  from  these  mysterious  sounds,  and  I 
was  beginning  to  get  anxious  about  our  weakly- 
defended  and  very  vulnerable  front,  when  two 
brilliant  jets  of  crimson  flame  flashed  out  from 
small  openings  in  the  wall  of  the  house  opposite 
us,  accompanied  by  the  deadened,  rumbling 
reports  of  ships'  guns.  These  were  only  too 
quickly  followed  by  the  sound  of  falling  brick- 
work below  us. 

"Good  heavens  !'' I  cried.  "Run  that  gun 
out  again,  Long  Ling  !  Out  with  the  chocks  ! 
Depress  the  muzzle  !  More,  man  !  Come, 
fightee— make  haste  !  " 

"  My  no  can,  ca-pi-tan  !  "  groaned  my  gunner, 
striking  the  embrasure  angrily  with  his  clenched 
fist. 

Then  the  hideous  villainy  of  the  whole 
scheme  flashed  upon  me,  and  I  saw  the  nature 
of  the  death-trap  in  which  so  many  brave  men 
had  been  already  done  to  death.  I  knew,  ot 
course,  that  our  so-called  fort  had  been  built 
upon  the  site  of  the  smugglers'  old  head-quarters, 
in  the  heart  of  a  notorious  frontier-smuggling 
centre  and  close  beside  a  village  that  was  then 
a  nest  of  them.  An  outlying  house  of  this 
hamlet  had  actually  been  connected  by  a  tunnel 


322 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


or  passage  with  underground  receptacles  for  con- 
traband goods,  which  we  were  even  then  using 
for  a  temporary  prison,  store,  and  -magazine. 
That  the  first  "  fort  "  had  been  purposely  so 
constructed  as  to  be  untenable  if  seriously 
attacked,  I  strongly  suspected.  That  the  guns 
of  the  tower,  added  to  remedy  this,  were  worthless 
might  possibly  be  put  down  to  the  peculation 
permitted  by  "  officialdom."  But  that  the  stone 
embrasures  for  these  were  so  constructed  that 
any  serviceable  guns  subsequently  substituted 
for  those  "  museum  weapons "  and  dummies 
could  not  be  brought  to  bear  on  the  strongly- 
built  building  that  masked  what  was  virtually  a 
secret  entrance  to  the  fort  was  no  more  an 
accident  than  that — as  I  afterwards  discovered 
— the  brickwork  closing  the  tunnel-like  passage 
between  the  two  should  have  been  so  carelessly 
constructed  that  a  resolute  effort  by  three  or 
four  determined  men  would  break  it  down  in  a 
few  minutes.  The  whole  thing,  indeed — due  to 
collusion  between  corrupt 
officials  and  callous  smugglers 
—  was  so  thoroughly  and 
characteristically  Chinese  that 
the  rascals  who  had  grown  rich 
through  it  doubtless  chuckled 
exceedingly  at  its  grim 
humour. 

All  this  flashed  through  my 
mind  during  the  few  moments  .'• 

that  my  disheartened  gunner 
was  adjusting  his  percussion 
tube,  before  a  quick  jerk  of 
his  wrist  caused  the  clanging 
clash  of  the  brass  "  nine "  to 
ring  out  in  answer  to  the 
"Black  Flags'"  six-pounders. 
The  long  flame-flash  that  the 
double  -  shotted  weapon 
vomited  into  the  darkness  dis- 
closed the  rear  rank  of  a 
strong  body  of  men,  formed 
in  close  order  around  two 
great  sable  banners,  who  were 
then  apparently  entering  the 
house  opposite  from  the  rear. 
Into  this  mob  of  men — still 
at  some  distance  from  the 
door  —  the  two  round  shot 
plunged,  for  cries  and  curses 
were  mingled  with  the  rattling 
of  the  showers  of  stones  they 
threw  up  on  striking  the 
ground.  This  proved  that  the 
building  itself  could  not  be 
attacked  by  our  guns,  even 
although  I  had  strained  their 
mountings    to    the   uttermost, 


whilst  the  masonry  of  the  embrasures  was  far 
too  solid  to  break  down. 

Our  danger  was  now  becoming  greater  every 
moment  as  the  breaches  in  our  walls  grew  under 
the  steady  gun-fire.  Once  these  became  prac- 
ticable I  foresaw  we  should  be  assailed  at  both 
simultaneously,  whilst  the  wrecked  front  would 
be  again  attacked  with  storm ing-ladders,  the 
"  Black  Flags  "  knowing  well  that  every  man  I 
had  left  would  scarcely  suffice  to  hold  all  three 
points  till  day-dawn  gave  our  breech-loaders  their 
chance.  I  realized  that  such  a  numerous  body 
of  men  would  not  have  been  sent  into  the  house 
opposite  unless  a  secret  communication  existed 
between  it  and  our  cellars.  These  men  could 
be  sent  to  rush  the  trap-door  at  the  head  of  the 
steps  leading  to  the  hall,  and  amidst  the  roar  of 
the  guns,  the  crash  of  gingal  discharges,  and  the 
rattle  of  rifles  and  pistols,  any  noise  they  made 
would  not  be  heard  during  the  excitement  of  a 
hand-to-hand  conflict.     I  had  now  fathomed  the 


t*M'H**»y 


CRIES   WEKE   MINGLED    KITH    THE    RATTLING   OF    THE   SHOWERS   OK    STONES. 


"  CASTLE    DANGEROUS." 


323 


plan,  but  I  had  no  men  left  to  hold  the  under- 
ground part  of  the  fort  and  so  prevent  them 
from  firing  the  floors,  should  they  fail  to  force 
an  entrance.  This  fact  they  had  doubtless 
grasped  also.  They  had  made  one  error  in  their 
carefully-devised  scheme,  however,  which  was  to 
suppose  that  I  and  such  men  as  those  I  led 
would  hesitate  to  blow  up  the  building  rather 
than  allow  them  to  take  it. 

It  soon  became  evident  that  my  men's 
carbines,  even  when  the  gun-flashes  gave  them  a 
target,  were  quite  unable  to  silence  or  even  keep 
down  the  fire  of  the  concealed  guns  that  so  per 
sistentlj  battered  the  lower  part  of  the  fort. 
The  sounds  of  falling  brickwork,  becoming 
louder  and  more  frequent,  warned  me  that  no 
time  should  be  lost  if — by  the  most  desperate 
expedient  to  which  in  the  whole  course  of  my 
life  I  have  ever  resorted — I  was  to  try  to  save 
the  fort.  So,  after  picking  out  three  of  my 
most  trusted  men,  with  "  the  Bird "  to  carry 
a  dark-lantern,  I  warned  Stanley  to  have  the 
remainder  in  readiness  to  man  the  new  breaches 
as  well  as  the  old  ones,  and  then  descended  to  the 
dark  cell,  where,  with  sturdy  but  stealthy  pick- 
strokes,  we  soon  loosened  the  bogus  brickwork 
blocking  up  the  passage  to  the  house  facing  us, 
the  debris  as  it  fell  being  noiselessly  caught  in 
blankets.  The  utmost  care  was  needed,  how 
ever,  not  only  lest  the  pick-points  should  strike 
sparks  close  to  the  great  stack  of  powder-kegs, 
but  on  account  of  the  "  Black  Flags "  being 
almost  over  our  heads  !  It  was  a  strangely- 
weird  scene— the  yellow  light  of  the  lantern 
that  "  the  Bird's  "  one  serviceable  arm  held  aloft 
disclosing  powder  blackened  and  blood-stained 
faces,  bandaged  limbs,  and  torn  and  discoloured 
uniforms.  The  disused  instruments  of  torture, 
and  the  great  piles  of  powder-  kegs  dimly 
visible  in  the  darkness  of  the  gloomy  dungeon, 
formed  an  uncanny  kind  of  background,  with 
—  as  an  appropriate  accompaniment  —  the 
continual  thunder  of  guns  discharged  just  over 
head. 

Glad  enough  was  I  when,  our  dangerous  task 
completed,  we  were  able  to  remove  the  heads  of 
some  of  the  kegs.  After  carefully  laying  two 
trains  of  good  English  gunpowder  from  them  to 
the  door,  I  set  the  slow-matches  to  about  a  four- 
minutes'  limit  —my  men  watching  the  process 
with  grins  of  delighted  interest  Then  I  gave 
the  signal  for  retreat. 

After  securing  the  stout  door  of  the  great  cell 
behind  us,  I  called  the  men  from  their  posts 
and  gave  them  strict  orders  to  remain  prone  on 
the  floor  near  the  wounded  in  the  least  exposed 
part  of  the  guard-room  within  the  tower.     Then, 


finding  that  I  had  rather  over  a  minute  to  spare, 
I  jammed  myself  in  amongst  the  sacks  of  earth 
at  a  small  aperture  that  faced  the  house 
opposite,  immensely  relieved  to  see,  by  the 
continued  firing  of  the  guns,  that  no  suspicion 
of  my  desperate  expedient  appeared  to  be 
entertained  by  the  "  Black  Flags."  Inwardly  won 
dering  if  being  crushed  by  falling  masonry  would 
prove  a  painful  death,  I  endeavoured  to  strike  a 
balance  between  the  great  thickness  of  the  walls 
of  the  tower  and  the  proportion  of  good  English 
gunpowder  that  Mandarin  greed  had  allowed  to 
remain. 

The  seconds  dragged  slowly  on,  the  fuse 
limit  of  four  minutes  expired,  and  then  half 
another  one.  Still  nothing  happened.  Could 
anything  have  gone  wrong?  Then  suddenly 
the  stout  stone  wall  against  which  I  leaned 
oscillated  violently.  There  was  a  muffled 
rumbling ;  the  very  floor  seemed  to  tremble 
beneath  my  feet,  and  the  air  became  impreg 
nated  with  foul  gases  and  a  strong  smell  of 
burning  saltpetre.  A  curious  bluish  -  yellow  light 
illumined  the  house  opposite  us  in  most  ghastly 
fashion  for  a  single  instant,  and  then  it  seemed 
to  sway  and  totter  amidst  a  number  of  small 
flares  and  flashes  of  violet-coloured  flames. 
Even  as  the  shrieks  and  cries  of  the  doomed 
men  within  sounded  in  our  ears  the  long,  low 
walls  of  the  building  simultaneously  collapsed 
inwards,  and  as  the  roof  sank  down  jets  of  fire 
seemed  to  dart  through  the  rents.  Then  foi  a 
time  sudden  blackness  settled  down  upon  all 
around  us  again,  but  when,  here  and  there, 
broken  beams  or  detached  rafters  burst  into 
flame  they  revealed  that  a  low,  shapeless 
mound  alone  remained  where  the  substantial 
brick  building  had  formerly  stood  !  Riven 
by  the  terribly  expansive  force  of  su<  h  an 
enormous  quantity  of  gunpowder,  the  cavern 
like  vaults,  in  collapsing,  had  swallowed  up 
the  structure  reared  over  them  !  The  excited 
cries  of  my  own  men,  who  had  rushed  to  evei  v 
aperture  that  commanded  a  view  of  the  weird 
catastrophe,  were  soon  mingled  with  the  sound 
of  flying  footsteps,  the  grating  of  boats  keels 
on  stones,  and  hoarse  cries  of  honor  from  the 
road  towards  the  hills  !  So  it  I  efell  that  when 
the  dull  grey  light  of  dawn  crept  over  the  scene 
no  single  living  enemy  remained  in  sight  of  the 
battered,  burnt,  and  shot-riddled  building  • 
which  there  still  hung  the  silken  folds  ol  a 
scorched  and  tattered  Dragon  flag-  pi o<  laiming 
that  this  time  at  least  the  forces  of  law  and 
order  had  triumphed  over  those  of  ruffianism 
and  treachery.  The  seventh  attempt  to  storm 
"  Castle  Dangerous  "  had  failed  ! 


MiU^H  Mfhti 


VO.N     *f> 


1  I 


-— '. 


Ma^gi/e^ite  ^pay. 


Illustrated  Willi  Photographs  taken  by  Count  Adrien  van  der  Burch. 

Being  a  brightly-written   account  of  a  six  weeks'  walking    tour   through    the    very   heart    of  Japan, 

following    the    old    pilgrim    roads,  and   penetrating  into    the    most    unknown    regions    of  Old   Japan. 

Mrs.  Roby  is  the  first  white  woman  to  make  the  journey,  and   her  experiences,   as  here  set    forth, 

are  both  interesting  and  amusing. 


I. 


ATE  in  August  of  1903  my  hus- 
band and  I  were  in  Yokohama, 
undecided,  after  ten  months  spent 
in  Japan,  whether  to  remain  some 
time  longer  or  leave  for  Pekin.  The 
chance  arrival  on  the  terrace  of  our '  hotel  of 
Count  Adrien  van  der  Burch,  with  whom  we 
had  travelled  in  Burma  earlier  in  the  year, 
determined  us  to  see  yet  more  of  Japan. 

The  Count's  plan  was  to  visit  the  interior, 
following  the  old  pilgrim  routes — which  have 
existed  unchanged  for  centuries  —  and  those 
roads  which  were  originally  opened  by  the  old 
feudal  barons  in  their  migrations  from  their 
estates  to  the  Court  of  the  ruler  of  Japan  at 
Tokyo.  Few  Europeans  know  these  ways. 
Possibly  no  white  woman  has  ever  followed 
them — certainly  not  on  foot,  as  I  did. 

It  is  the  ambition  of  every  Japanese  to  save 
sufficient  money  to  make  this  journey  before  he 
dies  ;  to  visit,  as  a  pilgrim,  the  most  sacred 
shrines  and  the  holiest  temples  in  the  whole 
of  the  empire  of  Dai  Nippon,  which  are  found 
only  on  the  untrodden  ways  of  the  oldest  part  of 
Old  Japan,  and  in  inaccessible  niches  of  the 
highest  mountain  paths. 

The  journey  must  be  made  on  foot.  The 
pilgrim's  sole  luggage  is  his  long  staff  and  a  rice- 


straw  mat,  bound  knapsack-wise  across  his 
shoulder.  His  chief  article  of  dress,  next  to  the 
loose  trousers  and  shirt,  is  his  rice-straw  hat  of 
inverted  milk-pan  shape,  and  he  carries  in  his 
girdle  an  infinitesimally  small  pipe  and  the 
pouch  of  tobacco  which  the  Japanese  is  never 
without. 

Starting  from  Yokohama  and  touching  at 
Tokyo,  you  proceed  to  Nikko  and  thence  to 
Chusenji,  where  one  crosses  the  lake  to  Ashio. 
Here  you  make  the  ascent  of  Mount  Kochinsan 
— a  none  too  easy  feat.  This  accomplished,  you 
descend  again  to  Ashio,  and  seeking  the  old 
feudal  highway  of  the  Nakusendo  (which  in  most 
part  follows  the  river  of  its  name)  proceed  to 
Ngatsagawa  and  back  to  Tokyo.  A  New  York 
friend,  Mr.  W.  W.  Crocker,  who  was  in  the 
hotel,  also  arranged  to  join  our  party. 

I  had  never  in  my  life  been  on  a  walking  trip 
before,  and  had  not  the  faintest  idea  of  what  I 
had  let  myself  in  for.  Having  ordered  provisions 
to  be  shipped  to  us  to  Kariyama,  we  gaily  started, 
ten  days  later,  on  our  journey,  leaving  Tokyo  on 
the  5th  of  September,  and  proceeding  by  train 
to  Nikko. 

This  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  places  in 
Japan.  There  is  a  Japanese  proverb  which 
says  :   "  Do  not  use  the  word  '  magnificent  '  until 


THROUGH    JAPAN    ON    FOOT. 


325 


you  have  seen  Nikko."  We  put  up  at  the 
Kanaya  Hotel,  and  the  following  day  started  to 
see  the  sights.  One  of  the  most  beautiful,  the 
Sacred  Red  Lacquer  Bridge,  which  spanned  the 
Daiya-Gawa,  a  stream  about  forty  feet  wide, 
had  disappeared. 
It  was  destroyed 
a  few  vears  ago  in 
a  terrible  storm, 
leaving  only  two 
upright  posts  at 
either  end.  This 
bridge,  which  was 
supposed  to  be 
only  used  by  the 
Mikado,  was  occa- 
sionally opened, 
perhaps  once  a 
year,  to  allow 
pilgrims  to  cross. 
Recently  the 
Government  has 
instituted  a  fund 
for  its  reconstruc- 
tion. Crossing  a 
bridge  lower  down 
the  stream,  and 
ascending  some 
very  broad  steps 
between  two  rows 
of  magnificent 
cryptomerias,  we 
came  to  the  famous 
mausoleum  of 
Jeyasu.  Before  it 
stands  an  immense 
granite  tori  or  arch- 
way, about  twenty- 
seven  feet  high, 
the  diameter  of 
the  columns  of 
which  is  between 
three  and  four 
feet.  These  toris  are  found  before  the  entrance 
of  temples  throughout  Japan.  They  are  either 
of  Shinto  or  Buddhist  architecture,  the  difference 
being  that  the  Shinto  tori,  which  is  the  older 
form,  has  no  centre  upright  support  to  the  two 
transverse  columns,  which  the  Buddhist  has. 

I  take  from  the  note-book  of  the  Count  a 
description  of  Jeyasu  : — 

"  Volumes  would  be  required  to  describe  the 
wealth  in  works  of  art  contained  in  these 
temples —toris  in  bronze,  lanterns  in  stone  and 
copper,  placed  there  by  the  great  feudal  barons 
on  the  death  of  Jeyasu,  who  died  a  Shogun  in 
A.D.  16 1 6,  after  having  been  one  of  the  most 
brilliant  generals  Japan  has  ever  known.  A  wide 
and  well-kept  road  passes  through  an  avenue  of 


From  a] 


A    TEMPLE    FRONT    AT    JEYASU. 


cryptomerias.  To  the  left  of  the  tori  stands  a 
pagoda,  entirely  red,  which  flashes  its  gold-edged 
sides  from  between  the  pines.  On  the  platform 
surrounding  its  base  sits  an  old  and  toothless 
monk,  who  smokes  a  miniature   pipe  and  sells 

tiny  images  of  the 
saint  to  the  de- 
vout, who  pass 
by  in  continuous 
crowds.  Crossing 
over  the  stone 
paths,  worn  by  the 
feet  of  generations 
of  pilgrims,  one 
enters  a  second 
court,  from  which 
lead  off  several 
compartments  de- 
voted to  religious 
uses,  among  which 
must  be  men- 
tioned the  stable 
which  contains  the 
white  horse  re- 
served for  the  god. 
On  one  of  the 
facades  of  the  stall 
is  a  piece  of  ex- 
quisite wood-carv- 
ing, the  work  of 
one  of  the  most 
renowned  of 
Japanese  artists, 
representing  a 
monkey  with  three 
faces.  Of  these, 
the  eyes  of  the 
one  are  covered, 
the  ears  of  a 
second,  and  the 
mouth  of  the 
third.  It  is  a 
Japanese  sermon 
on  charity,  for  the  monkey,  though  mischievous, 
will  never  see,  never  hear,  and  never  say  anything 
evil.  In  the  galleries  surrounding  the  place  of 
prayer  are  deposited  relics  of  the  great  deceased." 
On  our  return  to  the  hotel  at  the  end  of  the 
day,  dripping  wet,  tired,  hungry,  and  not  too 
good-tempered  with  the  weather,  which  seemed 
to  threaten  that  the  rain  would  never  stop,  we 
decided  to  leave  Nikko  at  once.  We  remained, 
however,  two  days  longer,  but,  the  rain  still  con- 
tinuing, we  determined  to  push  on  to  Chusenji, 
a  walk  of  about  eight  miles  over  the  mountains. 
This  was  my  first  climb.  Panting— puffing  like 
a  steam  engine,  in  fact — I  climbed  and  climbed. 
I  was  so  tired,  and  we  had  not  gone  two  miles  ! 
At  last  I  gave  up,  sat  down  by  the  side  of  the 


[Photo. 


326 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


road,  and  refused  to  budge.  Needless  to  say, 
the  three  men  of  the  party  stood  over  me  laugh- 
ing immoderately.  "  Walk  down  the  Noku- 
sendo,  will  you  ?  "  shouted  my  husband  between 
his  bursts  of  laughter.  Threats  to  help  me 
along,  each  taking  an  arm,  on  the  part  of  my 
husband  and  the  Count,  hurt  my  pride  ;  and 
finally,  stung  to  a  certain  sort  of  shame,  and 
feeling  very  furious  with  them  as  men  and 
superior  beings  under  the  circumstances,  I  got 
up  and,  refusing  all  offers  of  aid,  proceeded  in 
dignified  silence  on  my  way — dying  to  talk,  it 
must  be  confessed,  but  determined  to  punish 
such  mockers. 

It  is  possible,  of  course,  to  make  this  part  of 
the  journey  in  rickshaws,  if  one  prefers.  But 
the  roads  are  so 
bad  that  one  would 
rather  feel  oneself 
on  terra  firma  than 
be  jostled  in  rick- 
s  h  a  w  s ,  with  the 
ever-imminent  pos- 
sibility of  being 
thrown  over  a  pre- 
cipice. At  six  p.m. 
we  reached  Chu- 
senji.  One's  first 
view  of  the  lake  is 
magnificent.  We 
saw  it  with  the  sun 
going  down  in  a  red 
glory  over  the  beau- 
tiful blue  waters. 
On  one  shore  stands 
an  old  red  lacquer 
tori,  and  the  many 
small  temples,  with 
their  elaborateness 
of  design  and  bright 
colours,  make  up  a 
scene  at  once  beau- 
tiful and  pictur- 
esque. We  decided 
to  make  our  final 
arrangements  for 
the  walking  trip 
here.  The  first 
step  was  to  find  a 
guide.       Our    hotel 

manager  told  us  of  a  young  student  from 
Tokyo,  who  was  desirous  of  learning  the 
English  ("or  American")  language  in  ex- 
change for  his  services,  and  this  arrangement 
seemed  preferable,  to  our  way  of  thinking,  to 
engaging  the  ordinary  guide,  whose  one  idea  in 
life  seems  to  be  to  rob  his  employers.  The 
young  fellow's  name  was  Moreye,  and  my 
husband,    after   talking   with   him,    decided   to 


From  a] 


A    HALT   TO   ADMIRE   THE    VIEW. 


accept  him.  We  left  him  to  engage  coolies  for 
the  luggage,  and  two  boats  to  carry  the  coolies 
and  ourselves  across  the  lake  next  morning. 
We  decided  to  take  as  little  luggage  as  possible, 
anticipating  that  at  some  places  on  the  route  it 
would  be  difficult  to  procure  coolies.  At  last 
we  felt  we  were  in  a  position  to  congratulate 
ourselves  that  we  had  everything  complete  and 
ready  for  the  road.  Our  joy  was  short-lived,  for 
presently  the  conviction  forced  itself  upon  us 
that  we  had  but  one  pair  of  shoes  apiece  ! 
Here,  at  once,  the  value  of  Moreye  was  borne 
in  upon  us.  "So  little  a  thing  surely  is  no 
matter,"  remarked  our  guide.  "  For  the  feet  of 
the  O-Chi-San  " — that  was  I—"  waragi  would  do 
admirably  ;   and   for  the  gentlemen,    too,   what 

could  be  better  ?  " 
In  half  an  hour, 
therefore,  we  had 
possessed  ourselves 
of  three  or  four 
dozen  pairs  of 
"  waragi,"  which  are 
a  straw  overshoe, 
laced  across  the 
instep,  and  made  of 
thick  plaited  straw. 
This  most  impor- 
tant part  of  our 
outfit  obtained  we 
started.  Getting 
into  the  boat,  the 
lake  as  lovely  in  the 
morning  sunlight  as 
it  was  lovely,  though 
different,  the  even- 
ing  before,  we 
crossed  to  the  foot 
of  Asagate  -  Toge. 
Our  coolies — about 
twelve  or  more  of 
them,  with  our 
luggage  and  pro- 
visions for  the  jour- 
ney strapped  on 
their  backs  —  pre- 
ceded us  up  the 
steep  incline,  which 
took  us  over  two 
hours  to  ascend.  It 
is  four  thousand  feet  above  sea-level,  and  was 
one  of  the  hardest  climbs  I  had  on  the  trip. 
On  reaching  the  top  we  stopped  to  rest  and  to 
admire  the  magnificent  view  of  the  mountains 
around  us.     But  how  tired  I  was  ! 

I  would  have  given  anything  for  a  chair,  but 
no  conveyance  of  any  kind  could  pass  on  this 
road.  It  was,  in  fact,  no  road  at  all — merely  a 
path  cut  out  of  the  rock,  with  bracken  strewn 


THROUGH    JAPAN    ON    FOOT. 


327 


THE   AUTHORESS   AMONG   THE    ROCKS   ON    THE   WAY   IO   ASHIO. 

From  a  Photo. 

over  t^e  cuts  and  a  piece  of  bamboo  laid 
down  to  give  a  firm  grip  for  the  foot.  The 
descent,  however,  was  easier,  and  on  reach- 
ing the  foot  we  rested  for  tiffin.  The  first 
thing  our  coolies  did  was  to  disrobe — they 
hadn't  much  to  take  off,  I  must  confess— 
and  take  a  bath  beneath  the  beautiful 
waterfall.  This  is  a  custom  to  be  observed 
all  over  Japan,  and  at  first  somewhat 
startles  the  unsophisticated  foreigner. 

Our  first  night  was  to  be  spent  at  Ashio, 
and,  as  we  were  only  half-way  there  as  yet, 
considerations  of  haste  oppressed  us.  From 
the  look  of  the  road  ahead  of  us  I  really 
had  no  great  desire  to  go  on.  But  as  I  had 
promised  the  men-folk  that  the  "  Never  say 
die "  motto  should  be  mine,  I  made  no 
comments.  I  only  groaned  inwardly,  "  Shall 
I  ever  get  there  ?  "  This,  however,  was  the 
most  amusing  part  of  the  march — to  an 
onlooker.  We  must  have  looked  something 
like  a  herd  of  goats  as  we  jumped  from 
boulder  to  boulder,  and  we  indulged  in 
this  means  of  progression  for  some  three 
hours.     I    felt   that    my  feet   must,   in  the 


end,  surely  drop  off  !  The  worst,  however, 
was  not  yet  reached.  A  few  weeks  before 
there  had  been  a  heavy  storm,  which  had 
washed  away  a  part  of  the  path  on  the 
edge  of  the  precipice.  Across  the  ra< 
thus  formed  a  novel  bridge  had  been 
erected,  consisting  of  a  long  plank  sup- 
ported on  the  trunks  of  two  trees  which 
were  fixed  beneath.  When  this  delightful 
affair  met  our  gaze  we  held  up  our  hands 
in  horror,  for  we  could  see  the  frail  plank 
vibrating  before  any  of  us  even  attempted 
fo  go  on  it.  Then  ensued  a  general  toss 
up  as  to  who  should  adventure  first.  Count 
van  der  Burch,  as  the  lightest  of  the  party, 
at  last  volunteered  for  the  forlorn  hope. 
He  crossed  safely,  and  1  followed.  Then 
came  my  terrier,  and  last,  but  not  least, 
my  husband.  His  weight  being  about  six- 
teen stone  his  progress  was  difficult  and 
dangerous. 

One  needed  all  one's  nerve  in  crossing, 
for  be"neath  the  plank  bridge  was  a  drop 
of  some  three  thousand  feet,  with  nothing 
to  hold  on  to  and  plenty  of  space,  and  one 
slip   would    have    hurled    us    into    eternity. 


■ 


A    DIFFICULT    PIECE   OF    ROAD— THE     I'AK  1  '.  OP    TO    DECIDE   WHO 

SHOULD   GO    FIRST   TO   TEST   ITS   SAFETY. 

From  a  Photo. 


328 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


The  feat  safely  accomplished,  however,  we  sat 
down  lightly  to  a  lighter  refreshment. 

"Great  Scot!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Crocker,  the 
silent  one  of  the  party,  moved  out  of  himself  for 
the  moment,  "  if  this  occurs  again  I  shall  simply 
sit  and  stay  there.  Walk  across  that  again  ! 
Never  !     I  would  rather  die." 

But,  refreshed,  we  walked  on  again  gaily 
enough,  and,  tired  and  hungry,  reached  Ashio, 
which  is  the  centre  of  the  copper  mines  and  the 
seat  of  the  copper  industry  of  Japan. 

Here  the  country  widens  out.  The  noise  of 
machinery  becomes  a  familiar  sound  to  one's 
ears,  and  from  the  many  cottages  or  tiny  houses 
the  factory-hands,  both  men  and  women,  their 
bodies  absolutely 
unclothed,  rushed 
out  to  see  us  pass. 
We  had,  in  fact, 
considerable  diffi- 
culty in  avoiding 
the  crowds,  and 
not  less  to  reach 
the  shelter  of  our 
inn,  where  an 
amusing  mistake 
confronted  us  on 
arrival.  Our  guide, 
who  was,  by  the 
way,  about  twenty 
summers,  had 
gone  on  ahead  to 
arrange  for  our 
sleeping  -  rooms. 
He  had  carefully 
announced  me  as 
the  wife  of  the 
youngest  member 
of  our  party,  a 
compliment   the 

depth  of  which  I  had  not  then  fathomed. 
With  difficulty  I  rescued  my  baggage,  which  I 
was  informed,  with  great  empressemenl  and 
politeness,  had  been  carefully  put  with  that 
of  the  Count  in  one  small  room.  I  assured  him 
that  Dr.  Roby  was  my  husband,  but  he  found  it 
impossible  to  reconcile  my  statement  with  his 
own  preconceived  notions  of  what  should  have 
been.  We  heard  him  telling  the  Nasan,  the 
pretty  hotel  waiting-maid,  that  surely  everybody 
must  think  the  Count  was  my  husband.  "Why," 
he  said,  "does  the  Daimio  then  take  off  the 
O-Chi-San's  shoes?  Why  does  he  always  stay 
behind  and  help  her  across  the  hard  places  that 
she  comes  to  ?  "  We  tried  hard  to  make  him 
understand  that  these  were  only  ordinary 
courtesies  due  from  any  gentleman  to  a  lady. 
Moreye  listened,  but  he  left  the  room  sadly, 
almost   shaking   his   head,  and  we   heard  him 


YCIUNI,   JAl'AN 

Fro/K  a] 


telling  the  people  of  the  inn  that  the  Americans 
were  indeed  a  strange  people. 

It  was  at  Ashio  that  I  first  learned  what 
tea-house  hospitality  means  in  Japan.  In  a 
moment,  as  we  entered,  a  number  of  Nasans 
came  running  towards  us,  each  with  cushions 
for  us  to  sit  upon,  and  began  to  remove  our 
shoes.  These  are  hotel  waitresses,  and  must 
not  be  confounded  with  geishas  ;  a  geisha,  as 
her  name  signifies,  being  properly  a  dancing- 
girl,  or  one  who  amuses.  After  our  shoes  were 
off— for  nobody  is  allowed  to  enter  a  Japanese 
tea-house  with  boots  on,  for  fear  of  cutting  the 
beautiful  matting— our  respective  maids  brought 
each  of  us  a  small  tub  of  water  and  bathed  our 

feet.  This  was 
very  refreshing 
after  our  long  walk, 
liach  Nasan  then 
accompanied  her 
own  particular 
guest  to  his  or  her 
r  o  o  m  .  T  o  m  y 
amusement  mine 
began  to  undress 
me,  and  insisted 
that  before  any- 
thing was  thought 
of  or  done  I  must 
take  my  bath.  I 
told  her  I  wished 
to  rest  first.  "  No," 
she  answered,  with 
a  mild  decision  of 
manner,  "it  is  best 
for  the  O-Chi-San 
to  bathe  first  and 
rest  after."  And 
finding  argument 
futile,  I  submitted. 
For  the  benefit  of  those  who  do  not  know  the 
arrangements  of  Japanese  hotels,  it  is  well  to 
dwell  upon  the  Nasan's  statement :  "  When  the 
Japanese  travel  together  ail  the  gentlemen  like 
to  be  in  one  room."  She  could  not  understand 
that,  there  being  four  in  our  party,  we  required 
four  rooms.  To  my  statement  that  fresh  air 
was  necessary  to  us  she  only  replied  in  bewilder- 
ment :  "  But  why  do  the  Americans  want  so 
many  rooms  ?  The  rooms  of  the  tea-house  are 
clean  and  nice.  You  close  the  shojis  (inner 
shutters),  we  close  the  outside  ones  ;  and  you 
are  quite  safe  and  warm  if  you  are  all 
together ! " 

It  was  only  after  much  discussion  that  we 
gained  our  ends,  I  must  point  out  that  the 
division  between  each  room  is  simply  a  sliding 
paper  screen,  and,  if  one  wanted  to  peep  into  his 
neighbour's  room,  all  that  was  required  was  to 


-A    PARTY    UK    JUVENILES    WHO    WERE    MUCH    INTERESTED 
IN   THE  STRANGERS.  [/'/lOto. 


THROUGH    JAPAN    ON    FOOT. 


329 


Fro  in  a 


{I'noto. 


push  a  finger  through  the  paper  of  the  screen. 
Curiosity,  it  would  seem,  is  an  absent  faculty  of 
the  Japs,  and  their  innate  refinement  and 
ingenuousness  extend  to  their  estimation  of  the 
stranger.  Like  the  monkey  with  three  faces  in 
the  temple  of  Jeyasu,  the  Japanese  sees,  hears, 
and  tells  nothing  evil. 

The  next  thing  we  hungered  for  was  dinner. 
Rice,  eggs,  and  fried  eels  were  all  the  innkeeper 
could  produce,  but  how  good  these  tasted  after 
our  long  walk  !  While  the  meal  was  in  prepara- 
tion our  landlord  brought  in  a  package  with  an 
air  of  producing  something  which  should  show 
honour  to  his  guests.  Roll  after  roll  of  various 
tissue  was  laid  aside,  and  at  last  he  displayed,  to 
our  astonished  vision,  a  set  of  tin  spoons  and 
forks  and  some  horn-handled  knives,  which,  he 
said,  had  been  carefully  put  aside  for  many 
years  for  the  use  of  foreigners  when  they  should 
come  ! 

After  dinner  we  discussed  with  our  guide  as 
to  the  best  method  of  walking  up  Mount  Koch- 
insan — how  many  coolies  we  needed  to  carry 
our  food,  the  best  time  to  start,  and  how  long  it 
would  take.  Referring  to  our  Murray  we  found 
it  said  we  could  walk  up  Kochinsan  and  back 
again  to  Ashio  in  one  day.  It  sounded — or  read 
— splendidly,  and  we  agreed  to  start  at  eight 
o'clock  the  next  morning.  We  had  reckoned, 
however,  without  the  methods  of  the  Japanese 
coolie,  who  has  no  idea  of  time  or  distance. 
Instead  of  starting  at  eight  o'clock  we  marched 
off  at  ten-thirty. 

Moreover,  it  was  not  long  before  we  dis- 
covered that  in  putting  our  provisions   together 

Vol.  xiv.— 42. 


for  the  day  we  had  forgotten 
to  include  a  bottle  of  brandy, 
a  really  necessary  thing  on  a 
long  and  arduous  trip  such  as 
we  were  making.  ('neofour 
coolies  offered  to  run  back  to 
Chusenji  for  the  sum  of  one 
yen  (about  two  shillings)  and 
bring  us  a  bottle  ol  brandy, 
which  he  promised  we  should 
have  when  we  returned  that 
night  from  Kochinsan.  At  this 
astounding  offer  my  husband 
and  Count  van  der  Burch 
began  betting.  "Can  the  man 
fly  ?  "  asked  my  husband  of  our 
guide. 

"  No,"  said  he,  "  but  he  is  a 
great  runner,  and  will  certainly 
be  back  here  with  the  brandy 
when  you  return." 

Having  been  longer  in  Japan 
than  the  Count,  and  knowing 
the  Japanese  coolie  runner,  I 
accepted  his  wager  of  five  to  one  on  the  coolie 
carrying  out  his  contract,  and,  having  made  a 
note  of  our  bet,  we  started  in  rickshaws  for  the 
copper  mines,  some  two  ri  (five  miles)  distant— 
not  to  see  the  copper  mines,  but  to  begin  our 
walk.  On  the  completion  of  this  distance,  and 
crossing  a  small  bridge  of  planks  swinging 
together  on  what  looked  like  telegraph-wires, 
we  arrived  at  Beshio,  where  began  the  real 
upward  march.  How  hot  the  sun  was  !  And 
how  hard  the  ground  felt  !  But  our  coolies 
swung  along  as  if  it  were  the  coolest  day  one 
could  have  for  such  a  march.  After  we  had 
gone  about  two  miles  the  Count  insisted  that 
we  must  get  on  quicker,  as  he  found  it  im- 
possible to  put  up  with  our  pace.  As  he  dis- 
appeared from  sight  I  turned  to  my  husband  to 
make  confession. 

"I  must  go  back!"  I  said.  "I  cannot  go 
any  farther." 

"■Neither  can  I  '.  "  he  answered. 
We  both  laughed. 

"  It  is  not  worth  it  in  this  awfully  hot 
weather,"  he  added.  "Let  us  sit  down  a  bit 
and  have  some  soda-water,  and  then  we  will  go 
back." 

After  drinking  a  little  soda-water  I  fell  better, 
and,  as  I  hate  to  give  in  when  once  I  say  I  will 
do  a  thing,  I  again  summoned  determination  to 
go  on.  My  husband  tried  to  persuade  me  not 
to  do  so. 

"Do   you    remember    how    you    chaff 
going  to  Chusenji  ?     Now  1  can  chaff  you.     Get 
up,  lazy,  and  come  along  '  ied. 

So  on  we  went,  he  grumbling  the  whole  way. 


33° 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


We  walked  on  until  one  o'clock,  when  we 
stopped  for  lunch,  sitting  down  in  the  shade  of 
an  overhanging  rock.  The  path  in  many  places 
was  not  a  foot  wide — a  perilous  foothold  on 
crumbling  sandstone,  washed  away  by  storm  to 
a  mere  narrow  ledge.  The  return  of  our  friend 
with  an  untruthful  explanation  on  his  lips  of  a 
walk  to  the  temple  nearly  accomplished,  and 
a  request  for  something  to  eat,  was  contem- 
poraneous with  the  threat  of  the  clouds  of 
approaching  rain.  Our  guide's  statement  that 
the  rain  would  last  for  many  days  was  not  com- 
forting, but  we 
were  too  far  up  to 
go  back.  Hastily 
packing  up  every- 
thing, and  grate- 
fully accepting 
from  our  guide 
the  oil  papers  he 
offered  us  as 
shoulder-capes,  we 
continued  our 
walk  up  through 
the  mountain 
forest  by  narrow 
paths,  the  rain 
pouring  down  on 
us,  until  we  seemed 
to  be  walking 
through  a  water- 
fall. At  last  we 
arrived  at  the 
Shinto  temple  at 
the  foot  of  Koch- 
insan,  the  water 
pouring  from  our 
garments.     As  we 

stood  a  moment  outside  the  temple  we  might 
have  been  taken  for  three  shipwrecked  mariners. 
The  old  priest  and  his  wife  and  children  ran 
out  exclaiming  at  our  plight,  inviting  us  to  enter, 
and  hospitably  offered  us  their  clothes.  They 
at  once  erected  a  small,  cupboard-like  place 
outside,  composed  of  shojis  (shutters),  for  me  to 
disrobe  in,  one  of  the  coolies  offering  to  assist 
me.  This  offer  I  very  naturally  refused,  but  the 
men  of  the  party  confessed  themselves  only  too 
glad  of  assistance,  their  clothes  being  glued  to 
them.  In  a  very  short  time  we  were  all  refresh- 
ing ourselves  in  hot  baths,  and  the  priest's  wife 
had  lent  each  of  us  a  kimono,  neither  having 
with  us  any  change  of  clothing,  and  this  article 
being  all  the  wardrobe  the  priest  and  his  wife 
could  provide.  There  also  occurred  to  us  the 
serious  problem  of  how  we  were  to  dress  next 
morning,  what  we  were  to  eat,  and  where  we 
should  sleep.  The  priest  solved  the  last  riddle 
by  informing  us  that  we  could  sleep  in  the  room 


THE    AUTHORESS    AND    HER    PARTY   AT     THE    lEMl'LE    IN    THEIR    BORROWED 

From  a]  kimonos.  [P/ioto. 


before  the  shrine,  where  we  were  then  sitting, 
and  our  guide  suggested  that  one  of  the  coolies 
should  go  back  to  Ashio  and  bring  us  fresh 
clothing  and  food.  The  latter  I  cooked  for 
dinner  in  front  of  the  shrine,  the  coolie  being  as 
good  as  our  guide's  word,  and  returning  after  an 
absence  of  three  hours  with  what  was  required 
in  the  way  of  food — but  bringing  no  clothes.  With 
the  coming  of  night  and  the  need  for  sleep  the 
appalling  smallness  of  our  room  came  upon  us. 
The  priest's  offer  of  plenty  of  futons  (eider- 
down quilts)  was  kind  ;  but  the  room  was  only 

six  feet  square, 
and  there  were 
three  of  us.  Our 
friend,  Mr. 
Crocker,  had  re- 
mained at  Ashio. 

"You  must 
sleep  the  three 
together,"  said  the 
priest.  It  was  a 
bitterly  cold  night, 
and  it  did  not 
seem  a  bad  idea. 
We  essayed  the 
feat,  my  husband, 
Count  van  der 
Burch,  and  I — a 
huddled  heap  of 
humanity  covered 
with  the  eider- 
downs supplied  by 
the  kindly  old 
Japanese  priest. 
We  did  not,  how- 
ever, succeed  in 
getting  much  sleep, 
for    the    live-stock    of  that   place    would    have 


served    a    nation 


Turning    and 


tossing 


for 


two  or  three  hours,  in  our  attempts  to  catch 
sleep  and  other  things,  we  grew  bad-tempered, 
when,  to  make  it  more  lively,  my  husband 
fell  asleep,  and  not  only  fell  asleep,  but  started 
snoring  ! 

Moved  to  ire,  the  Count  tried  to  wake  him. 
"  Why  should  you  sleep,  you  villain,  while  I  lie 
awake  ?  "  he  cried,  shaking  him. 

"  Hush  !  "  came  a  voice  through  the  wall. 
"  The  priest  is  going  to  prayers  !  "  And  sure 
enough,  in  front  of  the  shrine,  at  four  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  came  the  priest  in  full  robes,  clang- 
ing a  gong  and  praying  for  his  and  everybody 
else's  forefathers.  After  this,  curiously  enough, 
we  all  fell  asleep. 

Of  this  sojourn  at  the  Shinto  temple  on 
Mount  Kochinsan,  Count  van  der  Burch's 
note-book  says  :  "  Twice  during  the  night  I  was 
awakened  by  the  priest,  who  came  to  pray  at 


THROUGH    JAPAN    ON    FOOT. 


33i 


the  foot  of  the  shrine.  In  the  tiny  cups  he 
deposited  some  grains  of  rice,  then  fell  on  his 
knees  and  chanted,  in  a  harsh  voice,  a  hymn  of 
strange  rhythm,  accompanying  the  same  on  a 
couple  of  gongs,  which  clanged  horribly  under 
the  low  roof.  He  retired  after  bowing  pro- 
foundly. Then  everything  returned  to  silence, 
the  quiet  of  the  night  being  broken  only  by  the 
occasional  spluttering  of  the  wax  candles,  which 
burnt  themselves  out  slowly,  and  threw  up  in 
strange  relief  the  burnished  copper  body  of  the 
little  grinning  goddess  of  the  shrine. 

"  The  sun  rose  brilliantly  next  morning,  and 
we  struggled  pain- 
fully into  our  still  ?-rjr-~ --— — —  — 
damp  clothes  of  the 
previous  evening. 
They  brought  us  the 
register  in  which 
pilgrims  sign  their 
names.  There  were 
inscribed  Japanese 
names  by  the  score  ; 
it  was  necessary, 
however,  to  go  back 
ten  years  to  find 
any  European  signa- 
tures, and  those 
which  preceded 
these  were  all  prior 
to  1854.  Mrs.  Roby 
was,  in  fact,  the  first 
to  place  the  signa- 
ture of  a  white 
woman  to  this  docu- 
ment attesting  the 
fervour  of  genera- 
tions and  their  devo- 
tions to  the  little 
goddess  with  the 
body  of  burnished 
copper  who  laughed 
at  us  behind  the 
flame  of  the  tapers. 

"  For    my  part    I 
should   not  dare  to 

return  there  lest  she  should  be  angry — lest  her 
smile  should  turn  to  words  of  malediction  like 
those  of  the  bishop  who  has  just  arrived,  and 
who  scolds  the  poor  priest  for  having  let  the 
Europeans  defile  the  sanctity  of  the  shrine  by 
their  presence  all  night." 


THE   ASCENT    OF    KOCHINSAN— "a   VER1TAISLE   ACROBATIC     FEAT   OF    THKEE 
HOURS'    DURATION.      ONE    MOMENT    OF    INATTENTION    WOULD    HAVE    MEANT 

From  a]  instant  death."  [Photo. 


Continuing  our  climb,  we  followed  the  path 
up  the  mountain  which  those  pilgrims  who 
desire  to  merit  all  the  benedictions  of  the 
goddess  take.  What  we  accomplished  was  a 
veritable  acrobatic  feat  of  three  hours'  duration, 
for  the  performance  of  which  it  was  necessary 
to  have  a  sure  foot  and  an  even  balance,  and 
not  to  be  subject  to  dizziness.  The  path  wound 
tortuously  about  the  crags,  just  wide  enough  to 
allow  the  feet  to  be  placed  one  in  front  of  the 
other,  while  both  hands  clung  to  the  chains 
fastened  in  the  rocks.  For  some  distance  we 
could  hear  the  stones  rolling  down  from  under 

our     feet,     but    we 

. 1       noticed    that    we 

could  never  hear 
them  strike  the 
bottom  of  the  pre- 
cipice. One  moment 
of  inattention,  a 
second  of  vertigo, 
and  it  would  have 
meant  instant 
death. 

And  there,  at  the 
end  of  her  path,  in 
her  niche,  was  a 
little  stone  goddess 
-  always  laughing 
—  worn  by  the  kisses 
of  the  pilgrims  and 
the  rude  caresses  of 
the  storm.  She 
seemed  to  jeer  at 
our  efforts  and  was 
waiting,  perhaps,  till 
we,  the  violators  of 
her  sacred  solitudes, 
should  break  our 
necks  in  punish- 
ment for  our 
audacity  ! 

The  road  ended 
abruptly  —  the 
trunk  of  a  tree, 
bound  by  a  chain, 
stretched  in  front  of  us.  We  had  finished 
our  climb  of  five  thousand  four  hundred 
and  fifty  feet,  and  were  at  the  culminating 
point  of  Mount  Kochinsan,  the  most  diffi- 
cult and  least  accessible  of  the  mountains  of 
Japan. 


(To  be  continued.) 


ADRIFT     IN     THE    AIR. 

THE    STORY    OF   A    RUNAWAY    BALLOON. 
By  Frederic  Lees. 

The   captive    balloon    at    a  Parisian    pleasure-ground    recently  broke  away  during  a  sudden  storm   and 

went  careering  through   the    clouds   with    its  nine   passengers.      When    at   a   height  of   about   two   miles 

it    burst   and,    after  being  whirled    about   by  the  wind,  fell   to  the   earth.     Our  Paris   correspondent   here 

narrates  the  thrilling  story  of  the  trip,  as  told  by  the  aeronaut    in  charge  of  the   runaway. 


ALLOONING  is  a  hobby  which  it 
is  not  easy  to  indulge,  and  I  have 
had  very  few  opportunities  of  seeing 
a  balloon  start  and  still  fewer  of 
making  an  ascent.  A  captive  bal- 
loon is  but  a  poor  sort  of  substitute  for  the  real 
thing — it  is  like  a  skylark  with  a  string  lied  to 
its  leg — but,  after  all,  it 
is  a  balloon  ;  and  I  had 
therefore  acquired  a 
habit  of  dropping  into 
"  Printania,"  a  pleasure- 
ground  recently  opened 
close  to  the  Porte  Mail- 
lot at  Paris,  to  witness 
the  ascents  of  the  cap- 
tive balloon  there.  So 
it  happened  that  I  was 
an  eye-witness  of  an 
exciting  incident,  which 
came  very  near  being  a 
terrible  tragedy,  on  the 
afternoon  of  Sunday, 
July  24th. 

As  a  matter  of  fact, 
I  had  struck  up  an 
acquaintanceship  with 
Captain  Lair,  the  appro- 
priately-named aeronaut 
in  charge  of  the  "  Prin- 
tania" balloon.  I  was 
talking  to  him  just  be- 
fore he  made  his  fifth 
ascent  on  July  24th 
last,  when  M.  Adam, 
the  manager  of  "  Prin 
tania,"  came  up  and 
asked  him  what  he 
thought  of  the  weather, 
for  heavy,  black  clouds 
were  banking  up  in  the 
south-west.  The  cap- 
tain replied  that  he  believed  there  would  be  a 
storm,  but  it  would  not  come  on  till  nightfall, 
or,  at  any  rate,  there  would  be  plenty  of  time  to 
make  the  ascent  and  come  down  again — a  grave 
mistake,  as  it  happened,  but  a  very  natural  one, 
for  Paris  weather  is  notoriously  deceptive. 

There  were  six  passengers — five  men  and  a 


CAI'TAIN    LAIR,    WHO   WAS   IN    CHA 

From  a\  broke 


woman — in  the  car,  and  at  the  last  minute  the 
captain  admitted  a  couple  of  "  dead-heads  " — 
Harry  Vincent,  a  negro,  who  danced  the-cake-walk 
at  one  of  the  side-shows  in  the  establishment ; 
and  Albert  Morice,  a  lad  of  thirteen,  the  son  of 
one  of  the  octroi  officials  at  the  adjacent  barrier. 
The  "  Printania  "  started  up  slowly,  as  straight 

as  a  plumb  •  line,  for 
there  was  hardly  a 
breath  of  air  stirring, 
and  I  turned  away  to 
another  part  of  the 
grounds.  A  few  minutes 
later  a  sharp  gust  of 
wind  swept  through  the 
open  -  air  theatre,  vio- 
lently shaking  the  can- 
vas awning.  The  next 
moment  there  came  ex- 
cited shouting  from  the 
balloon  ground,  and 
guessing  there  was  some- 
thing wrong  I  ran  round 
the  theatre.  The  bal- 
loon, caught  by  the 
squall  when  it  was 
nearly  "  home,"  was  al- 
most on  its  side  on  the 
top  of  the  trees  which 
border  the  ground,  and 
it  appeared  almost  cer- 
tain that  the  occupants 
of  the  car  would  be 
thrown  out  or  dashed 
against  the  houses. 
While  we  watched, 
horror-stricken,  there 
came  a  curious  grating 
sound,  and  the  balloon, 
after  describing  a  short 
curve,  shot  upwards  like 
a  rocket.  The  inch  and 
a  half  steel  cable  had  parted,  probably  cut  by  the 
edge  of  the  drum,  and  the  balloon  was  adrift ! 

In  a  few 'seconds  it  was  out  of  sight, 
swallowed  up  in  the  black  storm-clouds  which 
now  overspread  the  whole  sky.  We  all  looked 
at  each  other  anxiously  without  speaking,  and 
then  gazed  at  the  leaden  sky.     At  last  an  old 


ADRIFT    IN    THE    AIR. 


■.  ,  . 
333 


5? 


\  IKW    OF    THE         l'WINTANIA 


PLEASURE   l. ROUNDS,    WHERE   THE    BALLOON    ASCENT    TOOK    M 
From  a  Photo,  by  Gilbert  &*  Co. 


sailor,  who  was  one  of  the  balloon  attendants, 
gave  a  shout,  and  pointed  to  a  speck  in  the  sky 
which  grew  larger  every  moment.  It  was  the 
balloon,  now  a  shapeless  mass,  looking  some- 
thing like  an  umbrella  blown  inside  out.  It  was 
within  perhaps  half  a  mile  of  the  ground,  and 
driving  rapidly,  car  foremost,  in  a  north-easterly 
direction. 

That  it  was  coming  down  fast — far  too  fast- 
was  evident,  and  I  ran  out  into  the  street,  in- 
tending to  take  a  cab  and  be  on  the  scene  of 
the  catastrophe  as  soon  after  the  event  as 
possible.  Suddenly  a  familiar  voice  addressed 
me : — 

"  Halloa,  old  man  !  What's  the  matter?  You 
look  worried."    . 

I  did  not  at  first  recognise  an  old  friend  in 
the  begoggled,  oilskin-clad  figure  standing 
beside  a  quivering,  snorting  motor-car. 

"  So  I  am,"  I  replied  ;  "  the  balloon  from 
'  Printania'  has  broken  loose  and  is  coming  down 
on  the  run.  I  want  to  go  after  it  in  a  cab,  if  I 
can  find  an  empty  une." 

"And  do  you  expect  to  catch  it  up  in  a  Paris 
fiacre  ?  Why,  you  won't  be  there  until  the  day 
after  to-morrow.  Jump  into  my  Panhard,  man, 
and  we'll  catch  that  balloon  if  it  lands  anywhere 
this  side  of  Calais." 

This  was  an  opportunity  not  to  be  thrown 
away,  so  I  jumped  into  the  car,  and  as  soon  as  we 
had  threaded  our  way  through  carriages  around 
the  gate  we  turned  sharp  to  the  right  into  a 
straight  and  almost  empty  road  and  put  on  full 
speed.  But  a  stern  chase  is  proverbially  a  long 
one,  and  the  roads  had  not  been  constructed 
with  a  view  to  facilitate  balloon-chasing.     When 


we  struck  the  river  there  was  no  bridge  handy, 
and  it  was  impossible  always  to  keep  the  balloon 
in  sight.  In  spite  of  all  difficulties,  however, 
we  arrived  at  the  Rue  Pasteur,  at  Clichy,  a  few 
minutes  after  the  balloon  had  landed.  The  car 
lay  on  its  side  in  the  road,  the  silk  was  festooned 
over  a  couple  of  smashed  trees  and  a  garden 
wall,  and  a  lot  of  Paris  gamins  were  cutting  off 
bits  with  their  pocket-knives  as  souvenirs  of 
the  accident. 

A  crowd  had  gathered  round  a  small  wine- 
shop, dedicated  to  the  "  Friends  of  the  Corner," 
and  a  policeman  stood  at  the  door  to  keep 
people  out.  But  the  motor-car  impressed  him, 
and  on  hearing  that  we  came  from  "  Printania" 
he  at  once  admitted  us.  I  was  halt  afraid  to 
enter,  expecting  that  a  horrible  sight  would  meet 
my  eyes,  but  I  saw  that  the  soldier-passenger 
was  quite  unhurt,  and  the  lady  and  the  negro, 
though  both  somewhat  hysterical,  were  other- 
wise none  the  worse  for  their  adventure.  Three 
of  the  passengers  were  missing,  and  I  asked 
what  had  become  of  them.  "One  of  the  nun 
and  the  boy  ran  away  as  hard  as  they  could  as 
soon  as  they  touched  ground,"  replied  one  "l 
the  doctors.  "The  other — a  South  American 
gentleman — sprained  his  back,  and  has  b 
taken  in  the  ambulance  to  the  hospital.  The 
aeronaut  has  also  sprained  his  left  arm  and 
ruptured  one  of  the  muscles  in  his  shouli 
but  he'll  be  all  right  after  a  few  days'  r< 

I     found     Captain    lair    in    an    inner    room, 
having  his  damaged  arm  rubbed  with  camphoi 
ated    spirits    of   wine— the    usual  in 

1  ranee  for  most  external   injuries.      I  told  him 
how  glad  I  was  to  see  that  he  and  his  com- 


334 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


panions  had  come  out  of  a  very  dangerous 
adventure  almost  unscathed,  and  that  I  should 
like  to  know  all  about  his  experiences  when  he 
had  time  to  relate  them. 

"  Oh,  I  can  do  that  now,"  he  replied,  quite 
calmly.  "I  shall  have  to  relate  it  all  to  the 
Commissary  of  Police  as  soon  as  the  doctors  are 
through  with  me,  so  I  may  as  well  rehearse 
the  story  and  get  it  right." 

Here,  then,  is  the  story  he  told  me  :— 

You  know  all  about  the  start,  for  you  saw  us 


the  string  attached  to  the  valve,  but,  much  to 
-my  astonishment,  it  refused  to  work  !  I  reckon 
we  must  have  gone  very  nearly  two  miles  high, 
and  we  should  have  gone  higher  if  the  expansion 
of  the  gas  had  not  burst  the  silk.  That  put  the 
finishing  touch  to  the  panic  of  some  of  the 
passengers.  Luckily  there  was  one  exception — 
the  soldier,  Sergeant  Schulmeister,  of  the  7th 
Dragoons,  from  Fontainebleau.  He  is  as  brave 
a  fellow  as  ever  stepped,  and  was  cool  and  even 
cheerful  through  it  all.  But  the  others  were  in 
a  pitiable  state  of  terror.     One  or  two  of  them 


L.. 


A  PHOTOGRAPH  OF  THE  BALLOON  TAKEN  JUST  BEFORE  THE  CABLE 


off.  When  we  got  up  about  eight  hundred  feet 
out  of  our  usual  thousand  the  storm  seemed 
drawing  unpleasantly  near,  so  I  telephoned  to 
the  engineer  to  pull  us  down.  He  wasn't  quite 
quick  enough,  and  the  gale  caught  us.  Being 
so  near  the  ground,  and  having  so  little  cable  to 
give  us  play,  we  were  nearly  tipped  out,  but 
luckily,  when  things  began  to  look  ugly,  the 
cable  snapped,  and  up  we  went  splendidly. 
The  passengers,  however,  looked  scared  when 
they  realized  we  were  adrift,  and  the  lady  asked 
me  if  there  was  any  danger.  "  No,  it's  all  over 
now,"  I  replied,  for,  personally,  I  didn't  much 
mind  being  cast  loose.  We  could  stay  up  as 
long  as  we  liked,  and  then  come  down  com- 
fortably when  the  storm  was  over.  Anything 
was  better  than  being  tipped  into  the  cutting  of 
the  Ceinture  Railway,  as  I  had  expected  to  be 
if  the  cable  hadn't  broken. 

Some  of  the  passengers  didn't  see  it  in  the 
same  light,  however,  and  they  called  me  all  sorts 
of  names.     But   I  didn't  mind  that.     I  pulled 


actually  began  to  climb  out  of  the  car  !  That 
was  more  than  I  could  stand.  ."  All  of  you  lie 
down  on  your  faces  in  the  bottom  of  the  car,"  I 
shouted.  "  Sergeant,  hold  down  by  force  anyone 
who  attempts  to  move!"  So  down  they  all  went, 
except  the  soldier,  and  I  dare  say  they  thought 
at  that  moment  their  last  hour  had  come. 
I  have  no  doubt  it  does  sound  very  terrible  to 
an  outsider  to  be  in  a  crippled  balloon  two  miles 
above  the  earth,  but  the  professional  aeronaut 
knows  that  it  is  not  half  so  bad  as  it  seems,  for, 
if  the  netting  holds,  the  weight  of  the  falling  car 
will  make  the  silk  into  a  very  fair  kind  of 
parachute.  Our  parachute,  however,  wasn't 
quite  perfect,  for  some  of  the  air  or  gas  got 
imprisoned  in  the  lower  folds  of  the  balloon  and 
wanted  letting  out.  Twice  did  the  plucky 
Sergeant  Schulmeister  climb  into  the  netting 
with  my  knife  between  his  teeth  and  make  a 
gash  in  the  cloth  just  where  I  told  him. 

After  this  we  started   to  come  down  pretty 
quickly,  though  not  half  so  fast  as  we  went  up. 


ADRIFT    IN    THE    AIR. 


335 


"  TWICE    DID   THE    PLUCKY   SEKCEANT    SCHULMEISTEK   CLIMU    INTO   THE    NETTING. 


Then,  as  ill-luck  would  have  it,  we  dropped 
into  the  gale  again,  which  set  the  crippled 
balloon  whirling  and  spinning  like  a  top.  I 
began  to  feel  a  bit  anxious  about  the  passengers, 
for  I  knew  that  we  should  come  down  with  a 
pretty  sharp  bump,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  and 
we  might  fall  on  the  top  of  a  tree  or  a  house, 
or  some  other  unsuitable  spot.  This  doesn't  so 
much  matter  when  there  are  only  two  of  you  in 
a  "  live  "  balloon,  for  you  can  both  go  over  the 
side  in  half  a  second,  and  the  balloon,  freed  of 
your  weight,  will  take  itself  out  of  your  way. 
But  with  nine  people,  and  a  lady  and  a  child 
amongst  them,  in  a  kind  of  extemporized  para- 
chute, it's  rather  a  heavy  responsibility. 

The  wind  was  so  strong  that  it  carried  the 
balloon  along  bodily  in  spite  of  its  crippled 
condition,  and  we  dropped  in  a  series  of 
parabolas  or  long  hops.  One  of  these  hops 
brought  us  right  over  the  Seine,  and  I  made 
sure  we  should  drop  in  the  water.  "  Now  we're 
safe,"  I  called  out,  for  I  knew  that  thousands  of 


people  would  be  watching  our 
headlong  progress  and  plenty 
of  boats  would  put  off  to  our 
assistance.  Just  then,  how- 
ever, the  wind  caught  us  up 
again  and  carried  us  over  to 
Clichy. 

To  guard  against  the  shock 
I  knew  we  should  get  when 
we  did  come  down  I  made 
all  the  passengers  climb  into 
the  netting.  It  was  rather 
a  job  to  get  the  lady  up,  but 
it  was  accomplished  at  last. 

We  had  hardly  finished 
when  I  heard  the  soldier  sing 
out,  "  Here  we  are  !  Now 
we're  all  right !  " 

Then  I  heard  the  car   hit 
the  top  of    a    wall,    carrying 
away  a  bit  of  the  coping  and 
smashing  a  couple  of  small 
trees.     The  negro  at  once  let 
go   and    dropped  —  he    says 
twelve  yards,  but  it  wasn't  as 
many  feet.       He  fell  on   the 
top  of  a  workman    who  was 
hurrying    up  to  help  us,  and 
they  both  rolled  over  in  the 
mud,    but    were     quickly    on 
their  feet   again.     "Are   you 
hurt  ?  "  asked  the  man.  "  Not 
a    bit,"   replied    the    nigger. 
"Are  you?"     "Not  much," 
replied     the    ouvrier,    doubt- 
fully, as  he   rubbed  the  dirt 
off  his  clothes. 
Meanwhile  workmen  came  running  out  of  the 
gasworks  and  hauled   the    car   to    the    ground. 
The  lady  and  the  boy,  in  an   ecstasy  of  terror, 
clung  so  tightly  to  the  netting  that  their  hands 
had  to  be  forced  open,  and  the  boy,  as  soon  as 
he  found  himself  safe  on  land,  ran  away  as  fast 
as   he   could,  as  also  did  one  of  the  men.     The 
South    American    gentleman    has    sprained    his 
back  badly,  they  say,  but  I  don't  know  how  he 
did  it — jumping  out,  I  suppose.     I  was  holding 
the  lady  with  my  right  arm  when  we  alighted, 
and  the  jerk  as  we  hit  the  wall  threw  me  forward, 
and   I  strained  my  left  arm.     The  lady,  I  am 
glad   to  say,  is  unhurt,  except   for  a   bruise  or 
two.      She   bore   up   well    during  a  very  trying 
experience.      She   is  somewhat  hysterical   now, 
but    that's  the   excitement  of   the  rescue,  and 
she'll    be    all    right    to-morrow.       I    asked    her 
what    she   was    thinking   about   when    she    was 
lying  down  in  the  bottom  of  the  car,  and  she 
replied  that  the  only  things  she  could  recollect 
were  that  she  had  forgotten  to  send  a  sample 


336 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


THE  NEGRO  AT  ONCE  LET  GO  AND  DKOl'I'EI). 


of  coffee  to  a  friend  who  was  going  abroad,  and 
that  she  had  made  up  her  mind  to  have  a  bath 
to-morrow  !  There's  a  curious  bit  of  psychology 
for  you  ! 

At  this  moment  M.  Adam,  the  manager  of  the 
gardens,  arrived  in  a  cab  and  took  Captain  Lair 
off  to  the  Commissary  of  Police  to  give  an 
account  of  the  accident,  after  which  they  returned 
to  "  Printania."  The  afternoon  performance  was 
going  on  at  the  time,  and  as  soon  as  it  was 
known  that  Captain  Lair  had  returned  the 
audience  shouted  to  him  to  appear  on  the  stage. 


He  went  on  and  bowed,  whereupon  they  cheered 
frantically,  whilst  the  orchestra  struck  up  the 
"  Marseillaise." 

I  saw  Captain  Lair  a  few  days  later  for  the 
purpose  of  having  him  photographed. 

M.  Adam  and  the  plucky  aeronaut  were 
already  laying  their  plans  to  build  a  larger  and 
better  balloon  as  quickly  as  possible.  The 
latter  laughingly  offered  to  take  Harry  Vincent 
up  on  the  first  trip,  but  the  negro  firmly 
declined  the  offer.  "  No,  sar,"  he  grinned ; 
"  not  all  de  money  in  Paris  get  me  in  dat 
balloon  again  ! " 


Very   few    people    know    how    cork    is    cut    and    harvested    in    the    great    forests    of    Southern 
Spain.     In  this  article  Miss  Stuart  describes  and  illustrates  the  whole  process  of  cork- 


as  well   as    the    curious  customs  connected  with    the  industry. 


-stripping, 


N  the  sunny  and  romantic  region  of 
Andalusia,  in  Spain,  are  miles  upon 
miles  of  cork  forests,  covering  the 
hillsides  with  their  wild  and  luxuriant 
beauty.  It  is  chiefly  to  this  pic- 
turesque southern  province  that  we  are  indebted 
for  our  supply  of  cork,  for,  though  it  flourishes 
m  other  districts  and  countries,  by  far  the  best 
quality — and  the  largest  quantity — is  supplied 
from  Andalusia.  The  vast  tracts  of  forest  land 
are  guarded  all  the  year  round  by  gangs  of  men 
who  go  by  the  name  of  "bodyguard,"  and  who 
are  authorized  by  the  Government  to  carry 
firearms  with  which  to  protect  their  masters' 
property.  On  this  account  they  do  not,  as  a 
rule,  get  into  much  trouble  should  the  execu- 
tion of  their  duty  necessitate  the  use  of 
their  guns  to  such  good  purpose  as  to 
incapacitate,  and  even  kill,  any  poachers. 
The  only  persons  beside  the  guards  who  are 
allowed  to  e-  ter  the  forests  are  the  men  who 
look  after  the  pigs,  large  herds  of  which  are 
driven  into  the  forests  during  the  season  to  feed 
upon  the  fruit  of  the  cork  tree,  which  very  much 
resembles  our  acorn,  and  on  which  they  thrive 
and  flourish.  The  proprietors  can  count  upon 
a  fairly  good  income  from  this  source  alone,  the 
pigs  being  admitted  to  the  forests  to  feed  at  so 
much  a  head. 

Amongst  the  largest  of  these  cork  forests  is 

Vol.  xiv.— 43. 


that  named  the  Arrayan,  which  belongs  to  the 
estate  of  Messrs.  G.  Lombard  and  Co.,  and  is 
situated  in  the  mountains  of  Jimina.  It  is  to 
this  enterprising  firm  that  I  am  indebted  for  the 
striking  photographs  which  accompany  this 
article,   and   for  much   valuable   information. 

The  season  for  the  stripping  process  begins  in 
June  and  goes  on  to  the  end  of  August,  that 
being  the  period  when  the  sap  is  flowing  freely 
through  the  trees. 

In  Andalusia  the  soil  is  exceedingly  fertile, 
and  if  the  cork  is  allowed  to  remain  too  long  on 
the  trees  it  becomes  very  coarse  and  goes  back 
practically  to  its  original  state — that  is  to  say, 
before  it  was  ripe  for  stripping.  In  less  fertile 
soils  it  takes  longer  to  mature,  and  is  sometimes 
finer  in  consequence. 

During  the  cutting  season — the  harvest  time, 
so  to  speak — large  gangs  of  men  live  in  the 
forest  on  the  scene  of  their  labours.  They  are 
provided  with  keen  axes  and  go  by  the  name 
of  corcheros,  or  "  strippers " ;  and  with  their 
swarthy  faces  and  quaint  costumes  they  lend 
additional  pictuivsqueness  to  the  scene.  A 
number  of  "collectors  "  with  slings  accompany 
the  strippers.  Stripping  a  cork  tree  is  by  no 
means  an  easy  operation,  and  has  to  be  con- 
ducted with  great  care  and  skill,  as  the  tree 
would  be  ruined  by  rough  handling  of  the  axe. 
The    corchero  first   carefully   examines  the    tree 


33* 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


and  gauges  the  probable  thickness  of  the  cork- 
wood, so  as  to  judge  how  much  force  he  must 
use  to  insert  his  axe  and  cut  the  corky  substance 
without  touching  the  inner  bark  through  which 
the  sap  flows  and  on  which  the  next  corkwood 
will  grow.  Around  the  skin  of  the  tree,  at 
about  four  feet  from   the  ground,  the  corchero 


The  photograph  reproduced  below  shows  the 
cork  being  stripped  from  a  tree  in  the  manner 
described.  No  tree  is  stripped  until  it  has 
acquired  its  full  growth,  the  age  of  maturity 
varying  from  eight  to  nine  years  for  the  trunk, 
ten  to  eleven  for  the  first  branches,  and  a  year 
or  two  more  for  the  second  branches.    The  trees 


Froir  a] 


describes  a  circle  of  horizontal  cuts.  This 
operation  is  repeated  at  the  foot  of  the  tree, 
quite  close  to  the  ground.  He  next  makes  a 
series  of  perpendicular  cuts  to  join  the  two 
circles.  The  handle  of  his  axe  (which  is  termi- 
nated in  the  shape  of  a  chisel)  is  now  introduced 
through  the  perpendicular  cuts,  and  the  stripper 
moves  it  backwards  and  forwards  to  loosen  the 
corkwood  from  the  inner  bark,  to  which  it 
adheres  slightly  ;  it  then  comes  off  easily  in  the 
shape  of  a  section  of  a  tube.  This  is  continued 
until  the  trunk  and  branches  of  the  tree  are 
bare. 


themselves  attain  the  age  of  from  fifty  to  sixty 
years  in  these  regions.  The  trunk  yields  a  cork 
inferior  to  that  from  the  branches  ;  the  higher 
the  branch  the  better  the  quality,  owing  to  the 
closer  growth. 

The  next  photograph  shows  the  collectors 
at  work.  They  gather  up  the  corkwood  from 
the  ground  as  it  falls  under  the  axe-strokes  of 
the  busy  strippers  and  carry  it  away  from  the 
trees  to  some  spot  where  it  is  placed  in  piles 
and  then  cut  into  smaller  pieces  intended  for 
cork-sheets.  The  slings  with  which  these  men 
are   provided   are  for  the   purpose  of  binding 


~~ 


t 


k 


34° 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


the  wild  and  rugged  districts  through  which  they 
have  to  pass,  it  very  seldom  happens  that  a 
bundle  gets  loosened  in  transit.  The  load  is, 
however,  fixed  on  in  such  a  manner  that,  should 
the  animal  fall,  it  can  be  immediately  unfastened. 
The  little  donkeys,  too,  are  marvellously  sure- 
footed, and  come  down  the  rugged  mountain 
paths  in  perfect  safety.  In  many  cases  the  way 
is  extremely  difficult  and  dangerous,  skirting  the 
edge  of  terrible  precipices ;  but  the  donkeys 
walk  on  them  as  firmly  as  a  horse  on  a  main 
road.  The  annexed  photograph  shows  the 
donkey  pack-train  on  its  way  through  the  forest. 


fifteen  thousand  bales  of  one  hundredweight 
each.  The  next  process  that  the  cork  undergoes 
is  "  cooking  "  and  "  scraping."  Sometimes  the 
"  cooking  "  takes  place  on  the  spot,  as  in  this 
case,  and  then  a  temporary  boiler  is  prepared 
and  a  rough  hut  erected  for  the  use  of  the 
"  scrapers."  A  large  quantity  of  corkwood  is 
shipped  in  its  raw  state  to  the  United  States,  as 
America  buys  the  greater  part  of  the  first, 
second,  and  third  qualities. 

The  gangs  of  men  employed  in  the  various 
operations — stripping,  collecting,  splitting,  and 
scraping — lead   somewhat  eventful   lives,   owing 


From  u\ 


A   DONKEY    PACK-TRAIN    BRINGING   THE   CORK    DOWN    FROM    THE   MOUNTAINS. 


[Photo. 


The  loads  are  so  big  that  but  little  can  be  seen 
of  the  animals  beneath,  but  it  must  be  remem- 
bered that  the  burdens  are  not  quite  so  formid- 
able as  they  appear.  In  the  above,  picture  is 
shown  one  of  the  most  dangerous  passages  they 
have  to,  traverse.  It  is  a  narrow  path  at  the 
edge  of  a  precipice  about  one  thousand  feet 
above  the  plain  below,  and  goes  by  the  name  of 
"  The  Leap  of  the  Moor."  ' 

On  the  next  page  we  see  the  arrival  of  the 
transport  animals  at  the  gathering  place.  In 
the  background  will  be  noticed  an  immense 
quantity  of  cork  which  has  already  been  brought 
down  from  the  forest.     This  pile  contains  about 


to  the  many  dangers  they  have  to  encounter. 
They  are,  however,  subjected  to  a  rather  severe 
discipline,  necessitated  by  theii  wild  and  excit 
able  natures.  As  soon  as  they  have  reached 
the  scene  of  their  labours  the  foreman  of  the 
gang  selects  a  suitable  spot,  close  to  a  fresh 
spring  of  water,  and  here  the  camp  is  estab- 
lished. The  cook  and  his  assistants  take  up 
their  quarters,  and  are  kept  busy  all  day  pre- 
paring the  meals.  At  about  eight  a.m.,  for 
breakfast,  and  one  p.m.,  for  dinner,  the 
foreman  sounds  a  horn  or  whistle,  whereupon 
the  whole  gang  assemble  at  the  camp  to 
partake   of  their   meal.      This    is   prepared   in 


THE    CORK    HARVEST    IN    ANDALUSIA. 


341 


large  wooden  bowls,  each  bowl  containing 
sufficient  food  for  fifteen  men.  The  cork- 
harvesters  form  up  in  circles,  standing  round 
their  respective  bowls,  each  man  holding  a 
large  wooden  spoon  and  gazing  eagerly  at  the 
food  whilst  awaiting  the  signal  to  begin.  No 
sooner  is  this  given  than  the  whole  gang  fall  to 
in  a  very  peculiar  manner.  Each  man  fills  his 
spoon  and  then  walks  backwards  and  forwards 
greedily  devouring  the  contents,  as  shown  in 
my  last  picture,  which  gives  an  excellent  idea 
of  this  curious  custom.  One  hour  is  the  time 
allowance  for  each  meal,  but  an  extra  hour  is 
tacked  on  at  midday  in  order  that  the  men  may 


oxalic  acid  which  the  corkwood  undergoes. 
Sweet  wines  are  more  conducive  to  the  develop 
ment  of  this  germ  than  others,  and  it  is  therefore 
more  frequently  found  in  corks  used  for  ports  or 
liqueurs.  Sometimes  a  maggot-cork  is  overlooked 
through  carelessness ;  but  this  does  not  often 
happen,  the  men  who  examine  the  corks  having 
strict  orders  to  cut  in  half  all  those  affected  in 
this  way,  to  ensure  their  not  getting  mixed  with 
the  sound  ones.  Another  evil  which  afflicts 
the  cork  trees  is  "double  growth,''  caused  by  a 
wet  season  intervening  during  the  maturin 
the  wood.  The  number  of  years  of  growth  can 
be  quite  distinctly  traced  in  the  graining  of  the 


THE   ARRIVAL   OF   THE   PACK-TRAIN— OBSERVE   THE    IMMENSE    QUANTITY   OF    CORK    STACKED    IN   THE    BACKGRi 

From  a  Photo. 


enjoy  their  siesta,  the  heat  at  noonday  being 
generally  too  great  to  permit  of  their  continuing 
their  work  uninterruptedly. 

One  of  the  worst  enemies  with  which  the 
proprietor  of  a  cork  forest  has  to  contend  is  the 
maggot  which  infests  the  wood,  and  which  in 
Spain  goes  by  the  name  of  "  snake,"  on  account 
of  its  habit  of  curling  itself  up  in  all  sorts  of 
places.  In  some  cases  the  undergrowth,  if  not 
properly  kept  down,  is  responsible  for  the 
ravages  of  this  pest,  which  ruins  thousands  of 
fine  trees.  The  germ  frequently  lives  hidden, 
and  does  not  appear  until  after  the  cork 
is  finished  and  placed  in  a  bottle,  when  it 
develops  in  a  slightly  different  form  ;  this  in 
spite  of  the  boiling  and  washing  with  vitriol  or 


wood,  and  it  is  here  that  the  "double  growth  " 
shows  itself.  It  forms  a  weak  point  and  causes 
the  cork  to  break  off,  in  some  instances  as 
cleanly  as  if  it  had  been  cut  with  a  knife.  Some- 
times the  corkwood  is  cut  from  the  tree  when 
"green,"  before  it  is  quite  ripe.  When  in  tin's 
state  it  has  a  most  peculiar  feeling,  a  little  strip 
of  "  green  "  wood  in  a  cork  striking  quite  cold 
as  compared  with  the  rest,  giving  one  almost  the 
sensation  of  touching  a  corpse. 

By  great  care  and  watchfulness,  however,  these 
various  ills  can  generally  be  averted  and  the 
corkwood  brought  in  a  perfect  state  to  the  stage 
when  it  is  finally  cut  up.  Strange  to  say,  even 
in  these  days  of  complicated  machinery  of  all 
kinds,  the    knife    used   by   hand    is    generally 


342 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


THE    CORK    IJARViiSilikS   AT    UI.NAhK-KACH    MAN    KILLS    HIS   SPOON    AND    WALKS    UACKUAKUs    AND 

From  a]  the   contents. 


[Photo. 


found  the  most  satisfactory  method  of  cutting 
the  cork — principally  on  account  of  the  material 
having  the  awkward  habit  of  blunting  every 
instrument  with  which  it  comes  in  contact. 
Within  the  past  few  years  a  Scotch  firm  has 
introduced  a  machine  which  is  more  satis- 
factory than  any  of  its  predecessors.  This 
cuts  corks  and  bungs  of  any  diameter,  and 
an  expert  workman  can,  by  the  aid  of  this 
machine,  turn  out  about  nine  hundred  corks 
per  hour. 

When  cut  by  hand  the  corkwood  is  first 
sorted  and  sized,  after  which  it  is  "  pushed 
off"  in  lengths,  then  squared  and  rounded. 
Curiously  enough,  in  cutting  the  pieces  to  the 
required  size,  the  Englishman  and  the  Spaniard 
adopt  exactly  opposite  methods,  more  or  less 
characteristic   of  the   two   races.      The  former 


stands  to  his  work  and  cuts  away  from  him, 
measuring  each  piece  accurately  with  a  gauge, 
while  the  Spaniard,  with  his  natural  indolence, 
reclines  gracefully,  more  often  than  not  with 
a  cigarette  in  his  mouth,  and,  holding  the  cork- 
wood against  his  breast,  pulls  towards  him, 
never  using  a  gauge,  but  working  entirely  by 
guess-work. 

Needless  to  say,  the  most  expensive  cork  of 
all  is  that  used  for  champagne  bottles. 

It  is  not,  however,  for  bottling  purposes  alone 
that  cork  is  used.  It  figures  largely  in  lifeboats 
and  belts  ;  it  supports  the  fisherman's  nets  ;  and 
parings  of  cork  form  the  "  Spanish  black  "  used 
by  printers.  The  dust  is  used  for  packing 
grapes,  while  the  sweepings,  after  being  burnt, 
provide  the  nigger  minstrel  with  his  ebony 
complexion. 


nr\ * r 


"Lone    Star." 

THE   ADVENTURES   OE   A    FAMOUS   SCOUT. 
As  Told  by  Himself  and  Set  Down  by  T.  R.  Porter. 

Being  episodes  from  the  career  of  Mr.   Fred  M.  Hans,  a  famous  American  army  scout  and  Indian 
fighter,  who  alone  and  single-handed  accomplished  all  but  incredible  feats. 

II.  — HOW    "LONE    STAR"    BEAT    THE    CHEYENNES. 


HAT  was  the  most  desperate 
situation  in  which  I  ever  found 
myself  ? 

Well,  that's  a  hard  question 
for  a  man  who  has  spent  about 
ten  years  scouting  on  the  Western  plains  at  a 
time  when  the  Indians  were  hostile  and 
treacherous,  and  not  only  ready  but  anxious  to 
fight  whenever  they  had  the  opportunity.  But 
I  believe  the  time  when  I  was  in  the  centre  of 
Dull  Knife's  big  band  of  bloodthirsty  Cheyenne 
warriors,  securely  bound  on  a  horse,  with  the 
horse  tied  to  four  "  braves  "  who  rode  in  the 
shape  of  a  square  with  me  in  the 
centre,  and  all  of  us  en  route  to 
the  place  where  I  was  to  be 
burned  at  the  stake,  was  just 
about  as  perilous  and  desperate 
as  any  mess  I  ever  got  into. 

For  nearly  a  week  this  proces- 
sion had  kept  up  during  the  day, 
while  each  night  I  was  tied  to 
a  tent  -  stake  in  order  that  I 
might  not  escape.  As  we  went 
farther  and  farther  into  the  wilds, 
drawing  nearer  day  by  day  to  the 


COLONEL     WIN  ST' >N,     OF    THE     UNITED 

country    where    the    Indians    in-     STATES   ARMV-,    w'HO   sent    "lone 


just  been  informed  that  Dull  Knife,  the  old 
Cheyenne  chief,  accompanied  by  a  large  body 
of  his  people,  has  left  the  reservation.  They 
carried  every  available  gun,  all  the  ammunition 
they  could  lay  hands  on,  and,  in  fact,  everything 
belonging  to  them,  including  their  squaws  and 
papooses.  Our  scouts  have  been  unable  to 
locate  them.  I  want  you  to  find  where  they 
are,  why  they  left  the  reservation,  and  what  they 
are  doing." 

Having  been  absent  on  my  Montana  trip 
for  several  months,  I  was  not  quite  in  touch 
with  the  situation,  and  I  spent  the  next  few 
hours  in  questioning  the 
Indian  Agent,  the  scouts,  and 
those  Cheyennes  who  remained 
behind,  as  well  as  some  of  the 
Sioux  Indians  who  were  at  the 
Agency. 

I  discovered  that  through- 
out the  entire  summer  mes 
sengers  had  been  passing  to  and 
fro  between  the  Cheyennes  at 
the  Agency  and  a  part  of  the 
same  tribe  which  had  been  sent 
to  the  Indian   Territory,  six  hun- 


k 


dred  miles  farther  south.      These 
which    event     STAR"  ON  a  scouting  expedition     latter    did     not     like    their    new 


tended    camping 

.  .  ii  ii  .TO     LOCATE   DULL     KNIFE,    THE     CHEY-  .  .. 

they    intended    to     celebrate     by       Froma\     enne  chief.      [Photo.       location,  and  were   demanding  to 

be  sent  back  north. 


torturing  me   to    death  —  my 

chances  of  escape    diminished,   until   I   lost  all 

hope  of  outside  aid. 

How  did  I  happen  to  get  into  such  a 
desperate  scrape  ?  Well,  I  got  into  it  through 
my  own  individual  efforts,  and  I  got  out  of  it 
in  the  same  way.     It  all  happened  like  this. 

"Colonel  Winston  directs  that  you  come  to 
his  tent  immediately,"  said  a  messenger  to  me. 

I  had  been  up  in  Montana  assisting  in  the 
capture  of  Chief  Joseph  and  his  Nez  Perces 
Indians,  and  the  day  previous  had  reached  Red 
Cloud  Agency,  after  nearly  two  months  in  the 
saddle.  After  reporting  to  the  commanding 
general  and  placing  myself  at  his  disposal  I  had 
gone  to  take  a  much-needed  rest. 

Responding  to  the  summons  I  went  to 
Colonel  Winston's  tent,  where  I  found  a  number 
of  officers,  together  with  the  Indian  Agent, 
holding  a  council. 

'"Lone    Star,'"  said  the   Colonel,  "I  have 


My  task  did  not  appear  to  be  more  than  a 
mere  scouting  expedition  to  locate  a  body  ol 
runaway  Indians,  and  that  was  usually  an  easy 
matter,  although  the  Indians  in  this  case  had  a 
start  of  four  days  on  me. 

It  took  me  two  days  to  find  the  trail  of 
the  runaways,  and  then  I  was  surprised  to 
see  that  they  had  gone  toward  the  south, 
instead  of  northward  to  the  hunting-grounds 
of  the  Sioux  and  Cheyennes.  By  that  time  I 
was  almost  a  week  behind  the  fugitives,  but 
as  the  band  left  a  broad  trail,  which  I  had 
no  difficulty  in  following,  I  rapidly  gained  on 
them. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  third  day  of  the 
chase  the  absence  of  game  was  a  sign 
that  I  was  not  far  behind  the  Cheyennes,  and 
just  before  dark  of  the  same  day,  with  the  aid  of 
my  field-glasses,  I  discovered  their  camp  several 
miles  ahead. 


344 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


Having    picketed   my    horse  in  a  clump   of 
bushes    beside    the    stream    near    which    the 
Indians  were  camped,  I  made  my  way  close  to 
the  circle  of 
tepees    and 
spent  half  an 
hour  watching 
the    Indians 
gathered 
around    the 
camp  fires. 


5§ 


4 


"  I    SPENT    HALF    AN    HOUR    WATCHING   THE    INDIANS." 

Then  I  made  a  startling  discovery — there  was 
not  a  single  buck  in  the  camp  !  The  entire 
fighting  force  of  the  band,  leaving  behind  the 
women  and  children,  had  gone  towards  the 
settlements  of  Northern  Kansas  !  There  was 
only  one  meaning  to  that  move.  The  Cheyennes 
had  gone  on  the  war-path,  and  the  southern 
frontier  was  not  only  unprotected,  but  was  even 
unaware  of  the  hideous  danger  menacing  it  ! 

Mounting  my  horse,  I  rode  as  near  the  camp 
as  I  dared,  and  in  order  to  make  sure  that  all 
the  braves  had  departed  I  fired  half-a-dozen 
shots  from  my  revolver  into  the  air.  It  was 
risky  business,  for  if  the  braves  were  still  there 
I  should  have  had  to  run  for  it. 

Instantly  the  camp  was  a  scene  of  confusion. 
Every  tepee  sent  forth  its  quota  of  squaws  and 
papooses,  but  no  braves.  I  was  right.  The 
men  had  gone  southward,  and  even  now  might 
be  raiding  and  burning  the  frontier  towns  of 
Kansas. 

My  course  was  clear.  I  must  get  word  to 
the  military  authorities  without  delay.  Fifty 
miles  to  the  south  of  me  ran  the  Union  Pacific 


Railroad.  The  redskins  had  gone  in  that 
direction,  but  there  were  no  towns  along  its 
lines  at  that  time  and  they  could  do  it  practi- 
cally no  damage.  How- 
ever, the  telegraph  along 
the  railroad  offered  me  a 
means  of  quick  communi- 
cation to  the  army  officers, 
and  toward  the  road  I 
hastened,  urging  my  horse 
to  the  utmost  limit  of  his 
speed. 

Just  after  daylight  the 
next  morning  I  reached 
the  railroad,  and  then 
started  eastward  looking 
for  a  telegraph  station.  By 
nine  o'clock  I  found  one, 
and  immediately  notified 
General  Crook  at  Omaha 
of  my  discovery. 

As  I  afterwards  found, 
the  authorities  were  dum- 
founded  at  the  seriousness 
of  my  information,  and 
bodies  of  troops  from 
several  different  forts  were 
immediately  ordered  to 
move  by  forced  marches  into  the  threatened 
district. 

At  the  same  time  I  was  instructed  to  get  in 
advance  of  the  Indians  and,  if  possible,  to  warn 
the  settlers  of  their  danger.  I  was  also  told  that 
several  days  before  the  dissatisfied  Cheyennes 
in  Indian  Territory  had  left  their  southern 
station  and  set  off  together  with  all  their  women 
and  children  towards  the  north,  ostensibly  for  a 
hunt.  I  was  instructed  to  look  out  for  this 
band  also. 

After  giving  my  horse  a  few  hours'  rest, 
which  he  much  needed,  I  returned  to  where 
the  Cheyennes  had  crossed  the  railroad  and, 
taking  up  the  trail,  rode  hard,  hoping  to  over- 
take and  get  in  the  lead  of  the  war  party.  But 
the  warriors,  too,  were  riding  hard.  They  had 
now  thrown  off  all  attempts  at  disguising  their 
intentions,  and  were  moving  down  like  a 
whirlwind  upon  the  exposed  settlements  and 
farms. 

The  next  day  I  discovered  a  broad  trail  lead- 
ing up  from  the  south  and  joining  the  trail 
which  I  was  following.  The  Indians  from  the 
Territory  had  combined  with  their  brothers 
from  the  north.  On  the  afternoon  of  the  same 
day  I  saw  that  the  whirlwind  had  burst. 

The  first-fruits  of  the  "red  death"  became 
visible  as  I  rode  down  a  fairly  well  -  settled 
valley.  The  body  of  a  man  riddled  with  bullets 
and  with  the  scalp  missing  lay  in  the  doorway 


"LONE    STAR." 


345 


!  7 


THE    INDIANS    HAD    BEGUN    THEIR    DREADFUL   WORK. 


of  his  wrecked  home.  The  Indians  had  begun 
their  dreadful  work. 

And  the  destruction  was  still  going  on.  Far 
down  the  valley  I  could  see  with  my  glasses 
columns  of  smoke  rising  in  a  number  of  different 
places.  As  I  proceeded  nothing  but  death  met 
me,  even  the  live  stock  having  been  killed. 
Most  of  the  homes  had  been  fired.  The  settlers 
had  apparently  been  taken  entirely  unawares, 
and  were  slaughtered  almost  without  resistance. 

Having  caught  up  with  the  Indians  I  made 
a  wide  detour  and  got  in  front  of  them.  Then 
I  began  warning  the  settlers  in  the  valley  of  the 
danger  which  was  now  following  hard  on  my 
heels. 

Gradually  we  gathered  a  band  strong  enough 
to  withstand  the  Indians,  who,  however,  refused 
a  fight  on  those  terms  and  left  the  valley,  going 
back  to  the  north. 

Leaving  the  settlers  to  care  for  their  dead 
neighbours  I  followed  the  Cheyennes  back  into 
Nebraska,  having  occasional  skirmishes  with 
stragglers.     On  the  warriors  hurried,  and  after 

Vol.  xiv,- 


several  days  of  riding  such 
as  only  the  North  Ameri- 
can Indian  can  do  they 
reached  the  camp  in 
which  the  northern  branch 
of  the  tribe  had  left  th<  ii 
squaws  and  papooses 
when  they  went  on  the 
war  -  path.  Seeing  no 
signs  of  pursuit  the  war- 
riors decided  to  rest  here 
for  a  few  clays  and  the 
whole  tribe  therefore  went 
into  camp,  while  I  did  the 
same  thing  several  miles 
away. 

That  was  where  I  made 
my  mistake  and  got 
picked  up.  I  supposed 
the  band  would  return 
to  the  Agency  and  be- 
come "  good  Indians  " 
again,  as  they  usually  did 
after  a  raid.  So,  after 
waiting  and  resting  for 
several  days,  I  boldly 
rode  into  the  Indian 
camp  one  morning  and 
demanded  to  see  my 
"old  friend"  Dull 
Knife.  I  saw  him  all 
right  in  about  a  minute. 
The  old  rascal  came 
from  his  tepee,  and  in- 
vited me  to  dismount  and 
enter  his  lodge.  As  I  did 
so  he  and  half-a-dozen  of  his  braves  suddenly 
grabbed  me,  and  before  I  could  resist  I  was 
securely  bound. 

I  appeared  very  indignant,  but  the  dodge 
didn't  work.  I  told  them  I  was  a  visitor  and  a 
friend  and  demanded  my  liberty,  but  I  didn't 
get  it. 

"  The  Cheyennes  are  no  longer  friends  to  the 
white  men,"  said  Dull  Knife.  "  The  Cheyennes 
are  dissatisfied  with  the  treatment  of  the  white 
soldiers,  and  they  will  never  again  go  upon  a 
reservation,  nor  will  they  accept  help  from  the 
white  men  again.  They  have  gone  on  the  war- 
path, which  they  will  travel  for  evermore. 
They  will  go  to  their  own  country,  and  woe  to 
the  white  soldiers  who  follow.  They  will  wear 
war-paint  for  the  remainder  of  their  lives,  and 
will  kill  white  people  whenever  found.  You, 
'  Lone  Star,'  shall  die,  and  your  scalp  shall  1 
at  my  belt.  You  shall  be  scalped  while  still 
alive,  and  you  shall  be  burned  at  the  stake,  that 
my  young  men  may  see  how  cowardly  a  white 
man  is,  and  may  never  be  afraid  of  them.     You 


346 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


HALK-A-DOZEN    uh     Ilia    lilwvVto    bUL.DL.NLV     OKAtililMJ 


shall  go  with  us,  a  captive,  until  our  own  country 
is  reached.     Then  you  shall  die." 

This  was  a  nice  state  of  affairs  !  The  fact 
that  the  Cheyennes  would  attempt  to  return  to 
their  homes  in  far-away  Wyoming  and  Montana 
was  something  new.  As  I  well  knew,  there 
were  no  soldiers  between  our  present  camp  and 
that  country,  and  while  the  soldiers  would  be 
searching  for  the  Indians  up  towards  the  Agency 
we  would  be  travelling  in  quite  another  direc- 
tion. And  meantime  I  should  be  getting 
nearer  and  nearer  each  day  to  a  horrible  death. 
I  well  knew  old  Dull  Knife  would  carry  out  his 
threat  of  torturing  me.  I  had  known  him  for 
many  years,  and  had  never  heard  of  him  missing 
an  opportunity  to  commit  any  outrage  within 
his  power. 

The  following  day  the  old  rascal  broke 
camp,  and  with  me  securely  bound  to  a  horse, 
and  the  horse  tied  to  four  of  his  braves,  we 
started  toward  the  north-west.  Dull  Knife 
neglected  no  precautions  to  preclude  my  escape. 
He  gave  orders  that  if  I  succeeded  in  getting 
away  my  guards  were  to  be  tortured  in  my  place 
— a  clever  move  for  ensuring  the  utmost  vigi- 


"1aiTce~on  their  part.  He 
also  told  me  that  at  any 
attempt  on  my  part  to 
escape  I  should  be  put  to 
death  immediately.  One 
of  my  escort  carried  my 
own  pistols  in  his  belt, 
and  tantalized  me  by 
holding  them  up  to  my 
view  whenever  I  looked 
at  him. 

On  the  march  the 
braves  jeered  and  hooted 
at  me,  but  did  not  other- 
wise ill-treat  me  —  I  was 
being  reserved  for  future 
enjoyment !  I  was  fed 
when  the  others  ate,  and 
at  night:  was  placed  in  a 
separate  lodge  with  my 
four  guards,  my  hands 
being  bound  and  my  feet 
securely  tied  to  a  tent- 
stake  driven  in.,  the 
ground.  After  first  tying 
my  hands  on  the  day  of 
my  capture,  the  Indians 
never  undid  them  at  all, 
and  to  that  fact  I  owe 
my  escape. 

Two  days  before  we 
were  scheduled  to  reach 
the  old  hunting-grounds 
of  the  tribe,  and 
therefore  just  forty-eight  hours  before  I  was  to 
be  killed,  there  came  a  change  in  the  weather, 
which  had  hitherto  been  good.  All  day  long 
the  rain  fell  in  torrents  and  we  were  drenched  to 
the  skin.  The  Indians  rode  with  their  blankets 
drawn  well  forward  over  their  heads,  and  when 
night  came  on  everyone  was  completely  worn  out. 
An  early  camp  was  made  and  soon  the 
entire  band  was  sleeping.  I  had  been  fastened 
as  usual,  and,  well  knowing  that  no  soldiers  or 
enemies  were  within  a  hundred  miles  of  us,  the 
Indians  had  placed  no  guards. 

All  that  day  while  the  rain  fell  I  had  been 
exposed  to  the  weather,  no  blanket  having  been 
given  me.  Purposely  I  had  held  my  hands  so 
that  the  water,  draining  from  my  hat-brim,  fell 
directly  on  to  the  deerskin  thongs  with  which 
they  were  tied.  In  time  the  thongs  began  to 
stretch  and  give,  but  I  was  careful  not  to  carry 
this  far  enough  for  the  Indians  to  notice  it. 
There  were  just  two  nights  between  me  and  a 
horrible  death,  and  I  determined  to  make 
a  desperate  effort  to  escape  that  night. 

My  four  guards,  exhausted  by  the  trying 
march,  slept  soundly,  and  I  was  able  to  work 


"LONE    STAR." 


347 


undisturbed.  Within  an  hour  after  we  turned 
in  my  hands  were  entirely  free,  thanks  to  the 
stretching  of  the  wet  deerskin.  Another  half- 
hour  and  I  had  so  loosened  my  ankle-bonds 
that  I  could  cast  them  off  easily.  Then  I  lay 
still  and  waited  for  the  dead  of  night.  By  the 
smouldering  "  buffalo  chip  "  fire  in  the  centre  of 
the  tent  I  could  dimly  discern  the  sleeping 
Indians,  and  could  even  locate  my  revolvers  in 
their  holsters  in  the  belt  of  one  of  the  sleepers. 
It  would  be  almost  useless  to  escape  into  the 
wilderness  without  firearms  with  which  to  secure 
food,  and  I  determined  to  get  one  of  those 
pistols  from  that  Indian,  even  though  I  had  to 
kill  him  to  do  it. 

Finally,  I  decided  that  the  moment  for  action 
had  come. 

Carefully  I  removed  the  thongs  from  my 
feet,  and  silently  crawling  to  the  sleeping 
Indian  I  removed  one  of  my  pistols  without 
waking  him,  but  found  it  impossible  to  secure 
the  other  one,  and  was  forced  to  be  contented 
with  only  one  gun.  Neither  could  I  get  posses- 
sion of  any  extra  ammunition,  and  so  had  only 
six  shots  to  carry  me  to  safety. 

With  the  revolver  in  my  hand  I  crept 
cautiously  to  the  flap  of  the  tepee,  which  I 
was  just  in  the  act  of  raising  when  one  of 
the  sleeping  Indians  rolled  over.  I  hugged  the 
ground  for  dear  life,  expecting  him  to  discover 
my  plight  and  to  give  the  alarm.  I  deter- 
mined to  kill  him  if  he  alarmed  the  camp,  and 


"i  CREPT  CAUTIOUSLY  TO  THE  FLAP  OF  THE  TEPEE. 


to  grab  another  revolver  and  shoot  my  way  to 
the  open  or  be  killed  myself. 

But  the  movement  of  the  Indian  was  one 
made  in  his  sleep,  and  after  waiting  a  minus  I 
crawled  through  the  doorway  in  safety.  Outside 
I  found  the  rain  still  falling,  and  the  sound  of  the 
water  beating  against  the  tepees  helped  to  drown 
what  little  noise  I  made  as  I  took  my  way  to 
the  place  where  the  horses  had  been  tethi  i 
which  I  had  been  careful  to  note  when  the  camp 
was  pitched.  In  making  this  journey  I  crawled 
in  and  out  among  the  scattered  tepees,  through 
pools  and  mud-puddles,  but  I  eventually  reached 
the  horses. 

For  the  same  reasons  that  no  guards  were 
placed  around  the  camp  there  were  none  with 
the  horses,  which  were  all  "  staked."  I  had  no 
trouble  in  securing  old  Dull  Knife's  crack  pony, 
which  I  led  some  distance  away  from  the  camp 
before  I  dared  to  mount.  When  I  did  get  <>n 
his  back,  however,  the  pace  I  made  in  getting 
away  from  that  vicinity  was  something  pheno- 
menal, for  I  was  riding  for  my  life.  The  Indians, 
as  I  afterwards  found,  did  not  discover  my 
escape  until  daylight,  and  by  that  time  I  wis 
miles  away.  They  chased  me,  so  I  found,  for 
several  hours,  but  didn't  get  anywhere  near  me. 
Twenty-four  hours  later  I  rode  into  Fort 
Robinson,  having  ridden  more  than  a  hundred 
miles  in  that  time.  Another  two  hours  and 
I  was  en  route  to  Dull  Knife's  camp  with  a 
strong  detachment   of  cavalry. 

We  had  a  fierce 
battle  with  the  Chey- 
ennes,  in  which  many 
of  them  were  killed 
and  the  rest  captured 
and  brought  to  Fori 
Robinson.  On  one 
of  the  captured 
Indians,  to  my  great 
delight,  I  found  my 
other  pistol,  and 
took  possession 
of  it. 

Two  weeks  later 
the  captive  Chey- 
ennes  broke  gaol  at 
Fort  Robinson,  and 
in  the  exciting 
scri  m  ma l;c  wh  ich 
followed  I  put  a  bul- 
let through  Dull 
Knife  just  as  he 
in  the  very  a<  t  <f 
killing  a  soldier. 
That  settled  my  ac- 
count with  him. 
(To  be  continued.) 


The   "  Cave   of  the   Winds. 


H 


By   Orrin    E.    Dunlap,    of   Niagara    Falls,    U.S.A. 

A  chatty  little  article  concerning  the  wonderful  "  Cave  of  the  Winds,"  situated  behind  the  Centre  Fall  of 

Niagara.     Visitors  to  this  extraordinary  cavern  enjoy  the  unique  sensation  of  actually  passing  through 

the  descending  waters  of  the  cataract  and  looking  at  the  mighty  waterfall  from  behind  and  below  it. 


F  all  the  strange  adventures  with 
which  men  meet  in  the  perform- 
ance of  their  daily  duties,  none  are 
more  remarkable  and  fraught  with 
such  peculiar  dangers  as  those  ex- 
perienced by  the  guides  whose  work  it  is  each 

spring  to  rebuild  the  bridges  that  make  access 

to  the  famous  "  Cave  of  the  Winds  "  at  Niagara 

possible.     The  wonder  is  that  these  men  can 

accomplish  what  they  do.     The  "Cave  of  the 

Winds  "  is  one  of  the  chief  attractions  of  Niagara, 

and  to  make  the  trip  through 

it    thrills    and    astonishes    one 

like  nothing  else  in  the  world. 
The  cavern  is  located  under 

what  is  known  as  the  Centre 

Fall  —  a   magnificent   sheet  of 

water  that  pours  over  the  pre- 
cipice between  Luna  and  Goat 

Islands.    It  is  about  a  hundred 

feet  wide  at  the  brink,  and  the 

volume  of  water  is  sufficient  to 

most    effectually    curtain     the 

mysterious  cave  that  has  been 

hollowed  out  of  the  solid  rock 

behind  by  the  action  of  wind 

and  water. 

The  Centre   Fall  is  of   the 

same  height  as  the  American 

Fall,  and  the  base  is  protected 

by  a  rocky  talus  of  a  similar 

kind.       It  is   over  and    about 

these  rocks  and  boulders  lying 

at  the  foot  of  the  Fall  that  the 

guides    each    spring    have    to 

build  the  bridges  over  which 

thousands  of  people  will  later 

pass     to     enter    the    peculiar 

cavern  behind  the  great  sheet 

of   falling   water.      The  debris 

slope  of  Goat  Island  is  reached 

by   a   spiral    stairway  built    in 

1829,  and  which    the  private 

and  State  owners  have  never 

had  the  enterprise  to  improve. 

All    the    timber    for    the    new 

bridges    is    dropped    over    the 

cliff  by  ropes,  and  the  guides 

begin  their  work  of  construc- 
tion on  the  Goat  Island  side 

of  the  Centre  Fall.    The  direc- 


tion of  the  wind  has  much  to  do  with  the 
progress  made,  for  the  dense  spray-cloud  from 
the  cataract  at  times  makes  it  almost  impossible 
to  work.  From  the  island  slope  to  a  huge  rock 
lashed  by  the  foaming  waters  the  first  timbers 
are  thrown,  and  then  from  rock  to  rock  the 
work  goes  on  until  the  angry  waters,  fresh  from 
their  great  leap,  have  been  spanned.  This  much 
accomplished,  the  guides  gain  access  to  the 
slope  below  Luna  Island,  from  which  side  the 
recesses    of    the    great    cave    are    reached    by 


GUIDES   AT    WORK    IN    THE   SPKAY-CLOUD    BUILDING   THE    BUIDCibS    LEADING   TO  THE   CrtVli. 

From  a  Photo. 


THE    "CAVE    OF    THE    WINDS." 


349 


j'  to  in  a\ 


GUIDES    A  I'    THK    HEAD    OK    THE 


{/Vl0t>. 


spray,  and  yet  he  safe. 
The  stupendous  power  of 
the  waterfall  is  for  ever 
impressed  on  the  be- 
holder, who  experiences 
mixed  sensations  of  terror 
and  safety.  As  visitors 
are  dressed  in  oilskin 
clothing,  the  dash  of  the 
spray  is  pleasant  to  the 
face,  and  the  rainbows 
that  appear  all  about  are, 
in  many  cases,  perfect 
circles.  It  is  quickly 
noticed  that  the  falling 
water  causes  a  compres- 
sion of  air  in  the  cave. 
When  the  guide  places 
your  hand  in  that  of 
another  visitor,  himself 
taking  the  lead,  and 
boldly  ascends  a  wooden 
stairway  that  leads  you 
right  through  the  sheet 
of  falling  water,  you  feel 
that  the  climax  has  come. 
However,  the  outside 
is  quickly  and  safely 
reached,  and  you  marvel 
at  what  you  have  seen. 
It  is  utterly  impossible 


visitors.  Down  a  rocky 
stairway  they  go  into  the 
very  heart  of  the  cave, 
where  they  stand  in  a 
chamber  one  hundred  by 
one  hundred  and  sixty 
feet  in  size,  and  one 
hundred  feet  high.  At 
the  back  is  the  solid  rock 
of  the  river  bank,  and  in 
front  is  the  beautiful  fire- 
proof curtain  formed  by 
a  portion  of  the  plunging 
Niagara  torrent.  There 
is  an  ever  -  changing 
sequence  of  beautiful 
effects  from  the  light 
passing  through  the  de- 
scending flood,  while  the 
roar  of  the  Fall  is  tre- 
mendous and  indescrib- 
able. In  no  other  part 
of  the  world  is  such  an 
experience  possible  —  to 
stand  behind  the  rushing 
waters  of  a  mighty  cas- 
cade,   drenched     by    its 


RECORDING   THE 


xEMENDOUS    ROAR   OF    THE   CATARACT    11V    MEANS   Ol 
/■roiu  a  rkoto. 


35° 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


to  describe  the  varied  sensations 
caused  by  this  most  wonderful 
trip.  The  changes  come  so 
thick  and  fast  that  the  general 
impression  is  remarkable. 
Above  all,  there  is  the  thought 
that  you  have  actually  been 
behind,  been  under,  been 
through,  the  plunging  torrent  of 
the  mighty  Ealls  of  Niagara ! 
In  the  form  of  spray  it  has 
kissed  your  face,  has  washed 
the  smiles  and  the  frowns  away, 
and  the  awful  drop  of  the  water 
on  your  head  as  you  strode  in 
line  up  the  glistening  stairway 
out  of  the  cavern  will  linger 
with  you  a  long  time. 

It  is  to  make  this  unique  ex- 
perience possible  that  the  guides 
each  spring  erect  new  bridges. 
When  the  cave  trips  close  for 
the  season  the  bridges  are  aban- 
doned to  the  water  and  ice  of 
winter-time,  and  by  the  spring 
they  are  wrecked,  which  makes 
the  erection  of  new  structures  a 
necessity,  if  the  sensation  of  a 
"  Cave  of  the  Winds  "  excursion 
is  not  to  be  lost  to  the  world. 
People  from  every  section  of 
the  civilized  globe  have 
been  through  the  "  Cave 
of  the  Winds,"  and  never 
yet  has  a  life  been  lost 
there  owing  to  accident. 

The  guides  have  many 
queer  experiences  — man) 
strange  adventures.  They 
come  in  contact  witn  the 
man  who  "  knows  it  all  " 
and  who  doesn't  want  a 
guide.  They  meet  the 
women  who  wonder  "  why 
the  waters  come  down," 
and  also  the  venturesome 
people,  both  men  and 
women,  who  want  to  step 
off  the  bridges  and  go 
exploring  on  their  own 
account,  but  are  not 
allowed  to  do  so.  Nia- 
gara is  famous  as  a  ren- 
dezvous for  honeymooning 
couples,  and  when  they 
make  the  trip  through 
the  cave  there  are  many 
humorous  occurrences. 
They  are  all  in  all  to  each 


GUIDE   J.    K.    BARLOW,  WHO    HAS  MET  WITH 
MANY     ADVENTURES     IN     THE     COURSE    OF 

From  a]  his  work.  [Photo. 


THE    CENTRAL     FIGURE    IS    MR.    B.     H.    WHITE,    WHO,    W 
COMPANION,    WAS   THE    FIRST  TO   ENTER    THE    "  CAVI 

From  a\  the  winds."  1/ 


other,  and  the  world  outside 
passes  as  nothing.  Of  course, 
the  bonnie  bride  feels  rather 
strange  in  the  oil-skin  suit,  but 
as  she  has  won  love's  battle 
her  appearance  does  not  count. 
With  the  first  dash  of  spray 
there  comes  a  little  scream,  but 
soon  everybody  is  laughing  over 
the  rare  enjoyment  experienced. 
The  romance  of  the  trip  is  best 
exemplified  by  the  fact  that  a 
few  years  ago  a  lady  and  gentle- 
man, with  a  liking  for  the  un- 
conventional, were  married  in 
the  "  Cave  of  the  Winds  "  itself 
by  Judge  Edward  E.  Russell. 

Notwithstanding  that  his 
writings  record  a  disappoint- 
ment, it  has  remained  for  Mr. 
H.  A.  Parsons  to  tell  how  the 
"  Cave  of  the  Winds  "  was  first 
entered.  When  the  wind  at 
times  blew  away  the  overhanging 
spray- cloud,  observant  guides 
and  others  had  noticed  that 
there  seemed  to  be  a  cave 
behind  the  Fall,  and  many  were 
eager  to  have  the  honour  of  first 
entering  it.  Mr.  Parsons  was 
among  this  number,  and  on  July 
15  th,  1834,  he  secured 
assistance  and  made  an 
effort  to  cross  from  the 
Coat  Island  slope  through 
the  water  of  the  Centre 
Fall  to  the  slope  below 
Luna  Island,  feeling  that 
this  was  the  only  route  by 
which  the  cave  could  be 
entered.  With  a  rope  about 
his  body  Parsons  made  a 
bold  plunge  to  cross  the 
stream,  but  was  drawn 
back  under  the  foam  and 
only  rescued  in  a  state  of 
utter  exhaustion.  Unable 
to  speak  or  move,  he  was 
being  treated  on  the  rocks, 
when  Mr.  B.  H.  White 
and  Mr.  G.  W.  Sims,  un- 
daunted by  his  misfortune, 
effected  a  crossing.  These 
two  were  the  first  human 
beings,  so  far  as  is  known, 
to  enter  the  wonderful 
"Cave  of  the  Winds," 
where  "  they  found  many 
eels." 


HII 

:  1 1 1- 
hoto. 


a 


The 


Roow 


By  Francis  H.   E.   Palmer. 

An  echo  of  Napoleon's  disastrous  retreat  fiom  Moscow.     For  nigh  on  a  century  a  certain  Russian 

mansion  was  supposed  to  be  haunted,  so  that  no  one  would  occupy  it.     The  author  describes   his 

own  uncanny  experiences  in   the   haunted    chamber  and   the  extraordinary  manner  in  which,  after 

a  lapse  of  nearly  ninety  years,  the  room  finally  yielded  its  startling  secret. 


HREE  nights  in  a  haunted  room  in 
a  lonely  house,  situated  in  one  of 
the  wildest  districts  of  White  Russia, 
is  an  experience  one  is  not  likely 
to    forget.     I    am    not    particularly 

superstitious,  and,  in  fact,  I  expressly  asked  to 

be  allowed  to  occupy  the  room  in  question,  as  I 

was  curious  to  solve  the  mystery  attaching  to  it, 

and   to   discover  the  real 

cause  of  the  dread  it  had      r.,'vy*:«a««MB|BB 

inspired    for    the    greater 

part  of  a  century.     Never 

theless,    the  situation   was 

strangely  weird  and  eerie, 

and    the    impression    left 

upon    my   mind  by  m y 

curious      adventure      was 

deepened    by    the    extra- 
ordinary     and      romantic 

denouement  which  occurred 

a  few  years  after  my  visit. 
Nothing   assuredly    was 

wanting  in  the  position  of 

the    house    itself,     the 

scenery     around     it,     and 

above  all  in  the  dramatic 

events   that   had  occurred 

in    the    vicinity,    to    give 

rise   to  all  kinds   of   wild 


and  blood  -  curdling  legends.  The  estate  of 
Tchernovitschy  was,  in  fact,  one  of  those  spots 
over  which  a  perpetual  shadow  seems  to  lin. 
even  the  glaring  sunlight  of  a  Russian  summer 
only  served  to  bring  out  the  gloom  in  stronger 
relief.  In  front  of  the  house  was  a  wide  plain  of 
treacherous  bog-land,  in  which,  here  and  there, 
a  few  stunted  trees  struggled  for  existence,  and 


5r 

1~_ — 


.*=» 


L 


From  u\      the  h 


AUNTtU  ROOM  AS  IT  APPEARED  U  HE  N    I  Hi      .  .   i  IIOK  FIRST    SAW  )  I'. 


352 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


J3&j 


THE    HOUSE    AT   TCHEKNOVITSCHY   WHICH    CONTAINED   THE    HAUNTED   ROOM. 

From  a  Sketch  by  the  Attthor. 


beyond  was  a 
low-lying  lake 
which  extends 
to  the  horizon 
in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  his- 
toriclittle  town 
of  Gloubokoe. 
On  the  risine; 
ground  behind 
was  a  wide 
area  of  fir  and 
pine  forest, 
whose  sombre 
c  o  1  o  u  r  i  n  g 
seemed  only 
to  add  to  the 
gloom. 

The  house 
itself  was  of 
the  usual  Rus- 
sian type  —  a 
vast,  oblong, 
timber-built 

construction  consisting  of  a  ground  floor  only, 
with  a  large  number  of  rooms  connected  by 
long,  rambling  corridors.  The  whole  of  the 
space  beneath  the  roof  was,  as  usual  in  Russia, 
intended  to  serve  as  a  great  general  store-room, 
but  in  one  gable  a  chamber, 
the  one  I  occupied,  had 
been  partitioned  off,  and  at 
the  time  of  my  visit  con- 
tained only  a  camp-bed,  an 
old  Russian  wardrobe,  a 
table,  and  a  few  chairs.  For 
very  nearly  a  century,  how- 
ever, from  the  uncanny 
reputation  of  this  part  of 
the  house,  the  store  -  room 
and  the  bedchamber  had 
remained  closed  and  un- 
visited.  So  great  indeed 
was  the  terror  that  the  ghost, 
or  ghosts,  inspired  that  only 
two  servants — a  devoted  old 
peasant  named  Ivan  Bielky 
and  his  granddaughter 
Marsha — would  consent  to 
remain  in  the  house  at  night. 

The  estate  was  the  pro- 
perty of  Count  Julius  La- 
vinsky,  a  Polish  noble,  and 
was  situated  a  few  miles 
from  Gloubokoe,  the 
wretched  little  Jewish  town- 
let  in  which,  the  reader  may 
remember,  Napoleon  wasted 
lour   days   upon   his   march 


From  a]        count  julius  lavinsky. 


to  Moscow, 
with  results 
that,  in  the 
opinion  of 
most  military 
writers,  turned 
the  scale  of 
fortune  irre- 
trievably 
against  him. 
I  had  been 
asked  by  a 
Russian  friend 
to  assist  him  in 
collecting  data 
and  photo- 
graphs  for  a 
work  he  has 
subsequently 
published  in 
St.  Petersburg, 
describing  this 
little-known 
portion  of 
Russia;  and  Count  Lavinsky,  to  whom  I  had 
letters  of  introduction,  kindly  consented  to  aid 
me  in  my  investigations.  The  part  that  his  own 
family  had  played  in  the  affairs  of  this  Russian 
province  in  the  days  of  Napoleon  enabled  him 
to  give  me  a  graphic  account 
of  the  events  I  am  about  to 
describe,  but  little  indeed 
did  either  of  us  imagine 
that,  so  far  as  he  personally 
was  concerned,  the  curtain 
had  not  yet  fallen  upon  the 
Napoleonic  tragedy,  and  that 
the  last  scene  of  all,  which 
did  not  occur  till  December, 
1900,  would  be  as  dramatic 
in  its  results  to  himself  as 
anything  that  had  befallen 
his  ancestors  in  the  troublous 
times  of  18 12. 

The  day  after  my  arrival 
the  Count  accompanied  me 
to  the  old  monastery  at 
Gloubokoe,  in  which  Napo- 
leon had  lost  those  four 
fateful  days,  and  by  his  in- 
action possibly  changed  the 
whole  of  the  world's  sub- 
sequent history.  The  monas- 
tery, which  in  Napoleon's 
time  belonged  to  a  Roman 
Catholic  order,  is  now  in  the 
possession  of  the  Russian 
Church.  The  whole  building 
is  in  a  state  of  dilapidation, 


THE    HAUNTED    ROOM. 


353 


part  let  out  in  tenements  to  Jews,  the  rest 
occupied  by  Russian  priests,  and  the  whole  is 
in  a  condition  of  filth  and  squalor  that  is 
simply  indescribable.  The  room  occupied  by 
Napoleon,  however,  had  been  left  untouched, 
I  was  told,  since  the  day  of  his  departure.  I 
am  not  disposed  to  dispute  this  assertion,  as 
everything  was  covered  with  so  thick  a  layer  of 
dust  that  it  was  impossible  to  distinguish  any 
of  the  small  articles  upon  the  table  which  the 
Emperor  had  left  behind  him.  The  view  from 
the  window  of  Napoleon's  room  is,  however, 
very  striking,  and  a  photograph  I  took  from 
this  position,  and  also  that  of  the  monastery 
itself,  are,  I  may  mention,  the  only  ones  that 
have  ever  been  taken  of  this  historic  building. 
In  spite  of  all  the  dilapidation  of  nearly  a 
century,  however,  it  is  easy  to  reconstruct  in 
imagination  the  striking  scene  that  must  have 
been  presented  by  the  brilliant  staff  of  the 
Great  Emperor,  by  members  of  which  all  the 
rooms  in  the  monastery  were  occupied,  and 
the  regiments  of  almost  every  nationality  in 
Europe  by  which  the  little  town  was  thronged. 

Although  Napoleon  had  discouraged  the 
patriotic  hopes  of  the  Polish  leaders  at  Vilna 
some  days  before,  when  he  reached  Gloubokoe 
he  consented  to  receive  a  deputation  of  the 
principal  Polish  landowners  in  the  vicinity,  to 
whom,  it  is  affirmed,  he  gave  the  most  solemn 
promise  that  he  would  support  a  restoration  of 
the  Kingdom  of  Poland.  Before  visiting  the 
Emperor  the  members  of  the  deputation  pro- 
ceeded in  a  body 
to  the  church, 
where  they  took  a 
solemn  oath  that 
they  renounced 
their  allegiance  to 
the  Czar,  and 
would  never  relax 
their  efforts  to 
secure  the  inde- 
pendence of  their 
country. 

Among  these. 
Polish  nobles  was 
Count  Vladimir 
Lavinsky  and  his 
brother  Alexis 
(the  grandfather  of 
my  companion), 
who  had  married 
the  daughter  of  a 
certain  Colonel 
Vasticar,  a  gallant 
French  officer  who 
had  accompanied 
Napoleon     to 

Vol.  xiv.— 45. 


Russia.  In  the  disastrous  retreat  from  Moscow, 
no  portion  of  the  Grande  Armee  suffered  more 
severely  than  that  in  which  Colonel  Vasticar 
was  serving,  and  in  December,  1812,  he  found 
himself  once  more  in  the  vicinity  of  Glouboi 
accompanied  by  only  one  young  officer  and 
fifteen  men.  Harassed  by  the  savage  peasantry, 
his  only  chance  of  escape  lay  in  his  finding  a 
temporary  hiding-place  at  Tchernovitschy  with 
his  son-in-law  Alexis.  Five  more  of  his  men 
succumbed  in  that  last  forced  march,  but  the 
house  was  reached  before  dawn,  and  for  the 
moment  the  fugitives  were  safe.  But  only  for 
the  moment.  Alexis  had  been  so  seriously 
compromised  by  his  unwise  action  at  Gloubokoe 
that  he  had  taken  flight  some  days  previously, 
and  though  Vasticar  was  protected  by  the 
faithful  house-steward,  his  presence  soon  became 
known  outside.  Meanwhile  four  more  of  his 
men,  who  had  taken  refuge  in  the  store-room, 
had  died  of  their  wounds  and  exhaustion,  and 
the  same  fate  befell  the  young  officer)  who 
expired  in  the  bedroom  adjoining.  Three  days 
after  his  arrival  Vasticar  determined  to  find 
another  hiding-place.  Hardly  had  he  quitted 
the  house  than  the  ill-fated  officer  and  his  six 
surviving  men  were  surprised  and  massacred  by 
the  peasantry. 


THE    ILL-FATED   OFFICER    AND    HIS 


SIX    SURVIVING    MEN    WF.UF.    SURPRISED    AND    MASSACRED    UV 
THE    1EASAN  IKY." 


354 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


The  fate  of  the  fugitive  Alexis  was  even 
more  tragic.  The  moment  the  overthrow  of 
Napoleon's  expedition  became  known,  Vladimir 
Lavinsky  determined  to  save  his  life  and 
fortune  by  denouncing  his  fellow-conspirators. 
Through  information  given  by  him  his  brother 
Alexis  was  arrested  and  promptly  executed, 
while  the  estate  of  Tchernovitschy  was  bestowed 
upon  Vladimir  as  a  reward  for  his  treachery. 
Twenty  years  later,  however,  Vladimir,  stung  by 
remorse,  bequeathed  the  property  to  his  nephew, 
the  only  child  of  Alexis,  who  had  been  brought 
up  by  distant  relatives  at  Warsaw.  The  Poles, 
even  the  educated  classes,  are  singularly  super- 
stitious, and  very  probably  the  ghostly  mani- 
festations, which  commenced  as  soon  as  Vladi- 
mir took  possession  of  his  ill-gotten  property, 
had  not  a  little  to  do  with  his  remorseful 
terror. 

During  the  first  two  nights  of  my  own  stay  at 
Tchernovitschy,  occupying  the  haunted  bed- 
chamber at  my  own  request,  nothing  of  any 
kind  occurred  to  indicate  the  presence  of  the 
ghost,  and  I  began  to  fear  that  I  had  needlessly 
made  myself  supremely  uncomfortable  in  my 
desire  to  unravel  the  mystery.  The  third  night, 
however,  was  widely  different.  The  weather 
had  become  wild  and  stormy.  The  wind  was 
howling  amid  the  forest  trees  and  then  dying 
away  with  fitful  sobs  as  it  swept  over  the  deso- 
late moorland  towards  Gloubokoe.  Almost  as 
soon  as  I  entered  my  ghostly  chamber  I  was 
startled  by  a  sound  that  was  quite  distinct  from . 
that  of  the  blustering  wind  sweeping  over  the 
roof  above.  It  somewhat  resembled  a  deep- 
drawn  sigh,  followed  by  a  groan  like  that  of  a 
man  in  extreme  agony.  Then,  as  I  listened 
with  startled  attention,  there  followed  the 
muffled  clanking  of  a  chain,  dragged  wearily 
along  as  though  by  a  prisoner  in  irons.  Nearer 
and  nearer  approached  the  weird  sounds,  until 
at  length  they  seemed  to  be  passing  along  the 
floor  within  a  few  inches  of  my  feet.  Mean- 
while I  stood  like  a  statue,  literally  trans-fixed 
with  astonishment.  Finally  all  was  still,  save  for 
the  piteous  sighs  and  blood-curdling  grqans, 
which  continued  almost  without  intermission 
throughout  the  night,  while  the  clanking  of  the 
chain  was  resumed  at  varying  intervals. 

The  fact  that  precisely  the  same  sounds  had 
been  heard  from  time  to  time  for  more  than 
eighty  years,  as  was  proved  by  old  letters  shown 
to  me,  precluded  the  idea  of  the  "  ghost  "  being 
the  outcome  of  a  practical  joke.  It  seemed 
extremely  improbable  that  several  persons  in 
succession  would  keep  up  such  a  farce  for 
nearly  a  century — unless,  indeed,  they  had  some 
great  personal  advantage  to  gain  by  it.  Of  this, 
however,  there  was  no  evidence  whatever.     For 


several  hours  I  made  the  most  careful  investiga- 
tion, examining  every  object  in  the  room  and  in 
the  vast  unused  store-room  adjoining,  but  in 
vain.  There  was  absolutely  nothing  to  account 
for  the  strange  disturbance,  and  at  length, 
shortly  before  dawn,  when  I  lay  down  to  snatch 
a  few  hours''  rest,  I  was  obliged  to  admit  to 
myself  that  I  was  absolutely  baffled. 

Five  years  later,  in  December,  1900,  the 
mystery  was  cleared  up,  and  in  a  manner  that 
must  have  given  supreme  satisfaction  to  the 
unquiet  spirits  of  the  murdered  Colonel  Vasticar 
and  the  betrayed  Count  Alexis  if  they  really 
haunted  that  uncanny  room,  which,  for  reasons 
little  dreamed  of  during  those  eighty-eight  years, 
they  had  good  cause  to  watch  over  with  the 
utmost  solicitude. 

For  a  long  time  previously  the  affairs  of 
Count  Julius  Lavinsky  had  been  growing 
seriously  embarrassed.  His  little  estate  of 
Tchernovitschy  was  heavily  mortgaged.  A  suc- 
cession of  bad  harvests  and  increased  taxation 
had  brought  him  almost  to  the  brink  of  ruin, 
when  he  learnt  to  his  dismay  that  all  the  mort- 
gage-bonds upon  his  property  had  been  bought 
up  by  his  cousin,  a  grandson  of  the  treacherous 
Count  Vladimir,  whose  family  had  always 
bitterly  resented  what  they  regarded  as  his 
Quixotic  conduct  in  leaving  the  estate  to  his 
nephew,  the  father  of  Julius  Lavinsky.  A  few 
weeks  later  the  mortgage  was  foreclosed,  and  the 
cousin  became  the  new  proprietor. 

Meanwhile,  a  fresh  disaster  befell  the  unfor- 
tunate Count  Julius.  Though  he  had  carefully 
abstained  from  taking  part  in  any  political 
movement,  he  had  been  denounced  to  the 
Government  as  "unfavourably  disposed"  towards 
the  present  bureaucratic  regime.  A  timely  hint 
was  conveyed  to  him  by  a  friend  that  orders 
had  been  given  for  his  arrest,  and  that  as  no 
definite  charge  could  be  made  against  him  he 
would,  like  so  many  thousands  of  others,  be 
dealt  with  "administratively."  In  other  words 
he  would  be  deported  to  some  distant  province, 
and  there  detained,  practically  a  prisoner,  under 
the  strictest  police  supervision  !  Only  by 
immediate  flight  could  this  fate  be  averted. 

In  order  to  obtain  permission  to  quit  Russia, 
however,  the  traveller's  passport  must  be 
examined  and  endorsed  by  the  official  authorities, 
and,  under  the  circumstances,  to  have  attempted 
this  would  only  have  precipitated  his  arrest. 

Fortunately  for  those  who  are  willing  to  pay 
for  it,  it  is  no  difficult  matter  to  obtain  a  false 
passport,  and  the  one  procured  by  Lavinsky  was 
that  of  a  certain  Ivan  Kouznietz,  a  poultry 
merchant,  formerly  residing  in  London.  The 
man  himself  had  been  dead  for  years,  but  his 


THE    HAUNTED    ROOM. 


355 


passport  survived,  and  had  served  many  a  time 
to  facilitate  the  flight  of  an  exile  from  Russia  and 
afterwards  to  permit  the  safe  return  of  a  "  sus- 
pect"  under  the  name  of  "Ivan  Kouznietz," 
whom  the  Russian  authorities  believed  was  still 
passing  to  and  fro  between  England  and  Russia 
in  the  ordinary  course  of  his  business. 

While  this  matter  was  being  arranged  for  him 
Lavinsky  determined  to  hide  in  the  last  place  in 
which  the  police  would  be  likely  to  look  for  him 
— his  old  house  at  Tchernovitschy.  The  estate 
and  all  it  contained  was  now  the  property  of  his 
cousin,  whom  he  knew  to  be  his  bitterest  enemy, 
but  the  faithful  Ivan  Bielky  and  his  grand- 
daughter were  still  the  only  occupants  of  the 
ghost-haunted  house. 

The  day  after   his   arrival  some  strange  im- 
pulse led  the  Count  to  make  one  more  attempt 
to  unravel  the  secret  of  the  haunted  chamber 
before    quitting    his    old    home    for   ever.     For 
many  hours  his  investigations  were  as  fruitless 
as    my    own    had    been,    but    at    length,    while 
rummaging  about,  he  discovered  a  secret  drawer 
in  the  old  wardrobe  which   I   had  overlooked. 
In  this  drawer  was  a  sealed  letter,  yellow  with 
age  and  damp,  but  still  quite  legible,  addressed 
to  his  grandfather,  Court  Alexis,  and  initialled 
in  the  corner  by  Colonel  Vasticar.       It  was 
evident  that  this  letter  (which,  as  usual  in 
the  days   before   envelopes  were  invented, 
had  simply   been   folded  and  sealed)  had 
never  been  opened.     It  had, 
written    just     before 
the       unfortunate 
colonel  left  the  house 
to  meet  his  death  at 
the   hands    of  the 
peasants.      The 
steward  had   placed 
it    in     the     secret 
drawer  for  safe  keep- 
ing,  but,    as  I  have 
already     mentioned, 
Alexis    never    re- 
turned to  receive  it, 
while     the     faithful 
steward,  who  shared 
his    master's    fate    a 
few  weeks  later,  was 
the  only  person  who 
knew    of    its    exist- 
ence. 

It  was  wit  h  a 
strangely  eerie  feel- 
i  ng  that  Julius 
Lavinsky  unsealed 
this  message  from  the 
dead  to  the  dead,  for 
he   felt   instinctively 


that  it  would  reveal  the  mystery  that  had  hung 
over  the  haunted  house  for  nearly  ninety  yi 
He  was  compelled  to  read  it  more  than  once, 
however,  before  he  realized  all  that  it  meant  to 
himself.  In  a  few  brief  lines  the  colonel  gave  a 
graphic  sketch  of  the  frightful  sufferings  he  had 
undergone  in  that  dreadful  march  from  Moscow. 
On  leaving  the  Russian  capital  a  large  sum  of 
money,  chiefly  in  French  and  Russian  gold,  had 
been  placed  in  his  charge.  Through  a  s. 
of  disasters  he  had  been  separated  from  the 
main  body  of  the  fugitive  French  forces.  The 
small  party  of  men  who  accompanied  him  had 
dwindled  day  by  day,  but  still  he  had  succeeded 
in  retaining  the  gold,  and  had  brought  it  with 
him  to  Tchernovitschy.  He  was  now  obliged  to 
fly  once  more,  but  with  only  six  men,  and 
harassed  by  the  savage  peasantry,  who  were 
resolved  upon  their  destruction,  it  was  hopeless 
to  attempt  to  convey  the  treasure  farther.  He 
had,  therefore,  concealed  it  under  the  floor  of 
the  bedpoom  that  he,  and  the  young  officer  who 
died  there,  had  occupied.  Aided  by  the  faithful 
steward,  he  had  adopted  a  plan  that  would,  he 
hoped,  effectually  prevent  the  superstitious 
peasants  from  searching  the  room,  should  they 
get  possession  of  the  house. 


THE    Kii.MOVAL    OK    A    FEW    PLANKS    KEVEALED    FOLK    LEATHER    CASES. 


35* 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


Lavinsky's  search  for  the  treasure  mentioned 
in  the  letter  was  quickly  rewarded.  The  removal 
of  a  few  planks  from  the  floor  of  the  bedroom 
revealed  four  leather  cases,  hardened  and 
blackened  by  age,  in  which  the  gold,  to  the 
value  of  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
francs  (ten  thousand  pounds  sterling)  was 
securely  packed.  In  the  same  space  beneath 
the  floor  Lavinsky  also  found  the  key  to  the 
mystery  of  the  haunted  room. 

The  ruse  adopted  by  Colonel  Vasticar  and 
the  steward  to  scare  unwelcome  intruders  away 
from  the  room  was  as  simple  as  it  was  ingenious, 
but  requires  some  explanation  to  render  it  in- 
telligible to  Wide  World  readers. 

In  old-fashioned  country  houses  in  Russia,  as 
the  living  and  sleeping  rooms  are  all  on  the 
ground  floor,  the  area  covered  is  of  course  much 
larger  than  in  a  house  with  several  stories.  The 
space  above,  beneath  the  roof,  is  consequently 
very  considerable,  and  here  a  vast  miscellaneous 
assortment  of  stores  is  kept. 

The  accumulated  weight  of  these  is,  of  course, 
enormous,  and  the  floor  has  consequently  to  be 
a  very  solid  construction.  There  was  no  need 
to  economize  timber  in  the  old  days,  when  it  had 
hardly  any  pecuniary  value,  and  the  beams  are 
therefore  placed  rather  cjose  together,  less  than 
a  yard  apart  in  the  portion  of  the  floor  which 
is  destined  to  support  the  heaviest  weight. 
Here  two  beams  are  generally  used,  laid  one 
upon  the  other  and  clamped  together,  so  that 
from  their  united  thickness  there  is  often  a 
space  of  nearly  two  feet  between  the  floor 
of  the  store-room  and  the  ceiling  of  the  room 
below.  This  space  has,  in  fact,  the  form  of  a 
long,  square  tube,  extending  in  a  straight  line 
from  the  wall  of  the  house  in  front  to  that  at 
the  back.  To  presene  the  timber  from  decay 
a  ventilator  is  fixed  in  the  wall  at  each  end  of 
these  "  passages."  Near  the  ventilator  in  the  wall 
under  the  "ghost"  chamber  Colonel  Vasticar 
had  placed  a  small  windmill,  revolving  hori- 
zontally, with  a  board  screen  which  so  diverted 
the  strong  current  that  it  could  only  turn  the. 
windmill  in  one  direction.  To  the  shaft  of  the 
windmill  was  attached  one  end  of  a  long  piece 
of  whip-cord;  while  the  other  was  fastened  to  a 
light  oak  frame  resting  on  "skates"  cf  polished 
wood,  which  could  glide  easily  along  the  boards 
forming  the  ceiling  of  the  room  below.  Inside 
the  frame  two  peasants'  axes  were  placed  a  few 
inches  apart,  and  between  them  a  few  links  of 
an  iron  chain  were  attached  to  an  iron  bar, 
which  swung  from  a  pivot  at  the  top  of  the 
frame,  like  the  tongue  of  a  bell.  This  bar 
extended  for  about  six  inches  above  the  pivot, 
so  that  it  might  come  in  contact,  when  the  frame 
was  in  motion,  with  a  number  of  bars  of  wood 


placed  across  the  "  passage  "  from  one  beam  to 
the  other,  leaving  only  space  for  the  frame 
itself  to  pass  below.  When  the  projecting 
iron  bar  struck  these  cross-pieces  it  was,  of 
course,  pressed  down,  but  swung  back  when 
the  obstacle  was  passed,  striking  the  chain 
against  one  or  other  of  the  axes.  Whenever 
the  wind  blew  in  a  certain  direction  the  wind- 
mill revolved  fitfully,  and  as  the  cord  was  thus 
wound  up  around  the  shaft,  the  frame  was 
slowly  drawn  towards  it,  gliding  along  upon  the 
time-polished  edges  of  its  wooden  "skates." 

Another  cord,  fastened  to  the  other  end  of 
the  frame,  was  attached  in  exactly  the  same  way 
to  a  second  windmill,  placed  at  the  opposite 
ventilator  at  the  other  end  of  the  passage 
between  the  beams,  but  here  the  current  of  air 
was  so  diverted  that  the  mill  could  only  revolve 
in  the  opposite  direction  to  its  fellow.  By  this 
arrangement  the  "ghostly"  chain  was  drawn 
backwards  and  forwards  according  to  the 
vagaries  of  the  wind  circling  round  the  house. 

The  sighs  and  groans  of  the  restless  gh 
were  produced  by  equally  simple  means.  Small 
holes,  imperceptible  from  the  outside,  were 
bored  through  the  timber  walls,  and  in  these 
holes  were  placed  beneath  the  flocr  the  mouth- 
pieces of  some  of  the  curious  wooden  speaking- 
trumpets  that  were  formerly  used  to  summon, 
with  lugubrious  tones,  the  serfs  to  their  daily 
labour. 

The  fact  that  the  ghost  was  heard  not  only 
at  night,  but  also  during  the  day,  increased 
the  terror  with  which  the  room  it  haunted  was 
regarded.  It  is  a  firm  belief  of  the  White 
Russians  that  some  of  the  most  potent  spirits  of 
evil  are  powerful  enough  to  brave  the  light  of 
day.  Even  in  brilliant  sunlight,  they  affirm, 
these  spirits  may  be  seen,  as  a  faint  blue  haze 
in  human  form,  if  their  lurking-place  be 
approached.  But  woe  betide  the  hapless  man 
who  disturbs  their  solitary  haunts  !  An  icy 
cold  hand  is  laid  upon  the  nape  of  his  neck, 
and  the  intruder  falls  to  the  ground,  paralyzed 
and  bereft  of  his  reason.  Of  course,  when  the 
ghostly  sounds  were  first  heard,  the  steward 
easily  created  a  panic  among  the  ignorant  serfs, 
that  became  the  fixed  belief  of  the  subsequent 
generations  of  peasants. 

As  Lavinsky,  still  hardly  able  to  believe  that 
he  was  not  dreaming,  seated  himself  upon  the 
side  of  the  bed  and  gazed  at  the  little  fortune 
before  him,  it  seemed  that  now,  at  length, 
the  last  chapter  in  the  tragic  history  of  his 
family  was  drawing  to  a  close.  His  difficulties, 
however,  were  by  no  means  over.  If  the  police 
authorities  learned  anything  about  his  discovery, 
the  gold  would  unquestionably  be  seized  by  the 
Government  as  treasure-trove — though  a  portion 


- 


'Srx. 


« 


- 


358 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


Count  Julius  Lavinsky.  The  two  hundred  geese 
were  speedily  executed  and  their  bodies  con- 
veyed into  the  spacious  kitchen,  where,  next  day, 
they  were  to  be  packed  in  crates  for  transmission 
to  England.  That  evening  Count  Julius,  Ivan, 
and  Marsha  sat  down  to  a  singular  occupation 


they  had  safely  conveyed  from  their  White 
Russian  home,  and  the  next  day  were  lost 
among  a  crowd  of  their  fellow-victims  upon  the 
stalls  of  Leadenhall  Market.  Little,  indeed,  did 
their  purchasers  imagine  the  part  they  had 
played  in  conveying  to  England  a  portion  of  the 


THAT    EVENING    COUNT   JULIUS,    IVAN,    AND    MARSHA    SAT    DOWN    TO   A   SINGULAR   OCCUPATION. 


as  soon  as  the  other  farm  servants  had,  as  usual, 
quitted  the  haunted  house  for  their  village  izbas. 
A  small  opening  was  made  in  each  goose ;  a 
packet  containing  the  value  of  about  fifty  pounds 
in  gold  was  slipped  in,  and  Marsha's  deft  fingers 
then  sewed  up  the  aperture,  which  was,  more- 
over, completely  concealed  by  the  thick  plumage, 
while  the  increase  in  weight  was  not  sufficient 
to  excite  any  suspicion. 

A  week  later  Count  Lavinsky  was  in  London, 
where  he  hired  some  rooms  in  an  unpretentious 
quarter  of  Brixton  under  the  name  of  Kouznietz, 
the  poultry  dealer.  The  next  day,  to  the 
amazement  and  disgust  of  his  landlady,  a  railway 
lorry  arrived  with  the  crates  of  geese.  One  by 
one  they  were  relieved  of  the   "golden  eggs" 


treasure  of  the  Great  Napoleon  which  had 
suffered  such  strange  vicissitudes  in  the  tragic 
retreat  from  Moscow. 

Soon  after  this  Count  Julius  Lavinsky  took 
his  departure  for  Austria,  where  he  purchased  a 
small  property  in  Galicia,  and  there  the  faithful 
Ivan  and  Marsha  Bielky  rejoined  him  once 
more.  Unhappily,  poetic  justice  was  not 
destined  to  be  the  reward  of  the  Count  for  all 
the  misfortunes  that  he  and  his  family  had  so 
long  endured,  for  last  year  he  was  seriously 
injured  in  a  carriage  accident  and  died  a  few 
days  later.  Marsha  and  her  grandfather,  how- 
ever, are  still  living  peacefully  and  happily  upon 
the  little  farm  in  Galicia  which  the  grateful 
Count  bought  for  them. 


An  interesting  account  of  a  visit  recently  paid    by  a  Canadian  officer  to  a  curious  Abyssinian 
border   tribe.     Illustrated  with  the  author's  own    photographs. 


HE  beginning  of  October,  1903, 
found  our  caravan  hustling  along 
the  Abyssinian  boundary  towards 
Jiffa  Medir,  where  my  companion 
and  I  were  to  meet  an  akil,  or  native 
chief,  detailed  by  the  Consul  at  Zeila  to  guide  us 
through  the  Gadabrusi  country.  This  lies  on 
the  Anglo-Abyssinian  border,  and  is  partly 
under  the  nominal  rule 
of  Abyssinia. 

It  was  with  somewhat 
mixed  feelings  that  we 
heard  the  Sultan  or  King 
of  this  wild  country  was 
going  to  accord  us  a  re- 
ception, for  on  a  previous 
occasion  his  welcome  to  a 
European  expedition  had 
been  too  warm  for  the 
health  of  the  party,  and 
resulted  in  several  casual- 
ties. 

We  had  been  warned 
that  he  did  net  love  the 
Feringi  (white  man),  and 
therefore  thought  it  better 
to  send  a  messenger  ahead 
to  interview  His  Majesty 
and  return  with  a  confi- 
dential report  on  the  situa- 
tion, for  we  did  not  con- 
sider our  small  armament 


of  twelve  firearms  and  a  like  number  of  spears 
sufficient  to  properly  back  a  "  bluff"  on  our  part. 
When  our  messenger  loomed  in  sight  across 
the  prairie  we  felt  greatly  relieved.  He  explained 
.that  the  King  was  most  pleased  to  receive  my 
letter  (neither  he  nor  any  of 
his  subjects  could  read  it),  \ 

and  that  he  would   be  de- 


-J 


THE     EN 
From  a] 


VOY     SENT      BY    THE      KING     TO      GUIDE     THE 
AUTHORS    PARTY   TO    HIS   COUNTRY.  [Photo. 


36° 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


lighted  for  us  to  visit  his  country.  To  show  his 
sincerity  he  sent  his  own  cousin  to  act  as  our 
guide.  This  man,  as  well  as  a  native  soldier  of 
the  camel  corps  sent  from  Zeila  to  meet  us, 
accompanied  the  messenger  to  our  camp. 

Jiffa   Medir,  a  hill  of  great  granite   boulders, 
marks     the     boun- 
dary    between 


bushes,  above  which  the  rounded  tops  of  the 
houses  showed  like  the  backs  of  so  many  turtles. 
Adjacent  to  the  villages  were  large  herds  of 
camels,  in  charge  of  fine-looking  men,  and 
immense  flocks  of  sheep  and  goats,  watched 
over  by  weather-beaten  women. 

On     the    morning   of   our 
second    day    on    the    prairie 
we  entered  the  thorn  bushes 
which     cover      the      gentler 
slopes  at  the  foot  of 
Jiffa  Medir.     On  ap- 
proaching the  selected 
camping      ground, 
winding     our     way 
among   the  trees,  we 


Abyssinian      and      British 

territory.       It    is     surmounted 

by   a    huge,    tooth-shaped 

pinnacle    of    rock    nearly    two 

hundred    feet  high,  from  which-  the    mountain 

takes  its  name. 

Our  first  view  of  Jiffa  Medir  was  in  crossing 
the  Marar  prairie.  Far  away  beyond  a  sea  of 
waving  yellow  grass  the  jagged  outline  of  the 
hill  reared  itself  on  the  horizon  in  a  pink  and 
purple  mass,  grotesquely  changing  shape  in  the 
ever-present  mirage. 

Great  herds  of  gazelle,  hartebeeste,  and  oryx 
were  encountered  in  the  open,  affording  excellent 
sport.  This  is  probably  one  of  the  best  spots 
in  the  world  for  game,  but  it  is  so  easily  obtained 
that  I  am  afraid  the  place  will  not  long  remain 
such  a  paradise  for  sportsmen  as  it  is  now. 

By  this  time  we  were  in  the  Gadabrusi  country, 
and  several  of  their  villages  were  passed.  All 
were  surrounded   by  circular  zarebas  of   thorn 


GROUP   OK    GADABRUSI    WARRIORS. 

From  a  Photo. 


could  catch  occasional  glimpses  through  the 
foliage  of  stalwart,  swarthy  natives  hurrying  in 
the  direction  of  our  rendezvous.  They  were  all 
dressed  in  spotless  white  garments,  evidently 
donned  for  the  occasion,  and  each  carried  a 
shield  and  three  or  four  ugly-looking  spears. 

Some  shooting  having  taken  me  out  of  the 
regular  track,  I  found  our  camels  already  un- 
loaded when  I  arrived  in  camp,  and  the  "  boys  " 
energetically  at  work,  under  the  direction  of 
Jama  Said,  our  worthy  headman,  making  a 
strong  zareba  and  pitching  the  tents. 

Under  each  tree,  within  a  radius  of  half  a 
mile,  was  a  group  of  natives  sitting  or  lying 
down,  sheltering  themselves  from  the  heat  and 
glare  of  the  noon  sun. 

Scarcely  had  the  camp  been  completed  when 


A    VISIT    TO    THE    GADABRUSI. 


36 1 


Jama  came  to  announce  the  arrival  of  the  akli. 
He  was  dressed  in  the  height  of  fashion.  His 
tobe,  the  outer  and  often  the  only  garment  worn 
by  the  natives,  was  of  a  large  red  check  pattern, 
called  "  heili  "  —evidently  a  corruption  of  the 
English  word  "  highland."  This  garment  was 
wound  round  the  body  and  thrown  gracefully 
over  the  left  shoulder.  Thrust  through  the  sash 
or  waistband  was  a  richly-decorated  sword  of 
Turkish  pattern,  having  a  heavy  embossed  silver 
hilt.  This  sword  was  presented  to  him  by  the 
Government,  to  be  worn  as  a  badge  of  office. 
On  his  feet  he  wore  the  ordinary  sandals  of  the 
country,  very  thick  and  curved  upwards  in  front 
to  protect  the  toes.  His  head  was  unprotected 
and  closely  shaved,  in  the  manner  of  pious 
Mohammedans  who  have  taken  unto  themselves 
one  or  more  wives. 

Behind  the  akil  came  numerous  followers, 
mostly  young  men  with  fuzzy-wuzzy  hair,  care- 
fully parted  in  the  middle.  Many  had  their 
hair  bleached  to  a  tow  colour  by  numerous 
applications  of  a  white  clay  found  in  the 
country.  The  black  skin  and  blonde 
hair  formed  a  striking  combination. 

The  warriors  composing  this  retinue  were 
all  armed '  with 
shields  and  spears 
— s  ome  short 
throwing  spears, 
and  others  long 
with  broad,  deep 
blades  for  hand- 
thrusting.  Our 
men  were  hastily 
paraded  and  the 
armed  sentries 
cautioned  to  keep 
out  this  warlike 
throng,  allowing 
no  one  but  the 
akil  to  enter  the 
zareba.  The  akil 
was  led  up  to  the 
tent  by  Jama 
Said,  the  head- 
man. He  shook 
hands  with  my  companion  and 
me  by  simply  grasping  the  hand 
and  suddenly  releasing  it,  say- 
ing at  the  same  time,  "Salaam." 

Our  interview  with  him  did 
not  last  long.  Through  the  interpreter  ln- 
said  that  he  had  orders  from  the  Consul 
at  Zeila  to  conduct  us  through  the  country 
if  his  fellow-tribesmen  were  not  in  a  turbu- 
lent state,  but  to  warn  us  in  case  such  a 
trip  were  dangerous.  He  said  the  people 
of    the  country  were  glad   to  see    us,  and 

Vol.  xiv.—  46. 


that  we  need  anticipate  no  trouble.  The  King 
himself  was  coming  to  us  and  would  arrive  that 
afternoon. 

We  replied  that  we  were  pleased  to  see  him, 
and  asked  the  meaning  of  the  great  gathering  of 
warriors,  to  which  he  responded  by  saying  the 
King  had  ordered  a  great  "  tomasho  "  (fete)  in  our 
honour,  which  he  hoped  we  would  condescend 
to  witness. 

The  akil  was  then  taken  in  charge  by  our 
natives,  who  fed  him,,  at  the  same  time  eliciting 
all  the  news  and  local  gossip,  so  dear  to  the 
heart  of  these  people.  Shortly  after  the  midday 
meal,  while  seated  in  the  tent  sketching  in  the 
day's  march,  we  were  startled  to  see  numbers  of 
armed  men  among  the  bushes,  and,  on  further 
investigation,  to  find  that  a  multitude  had 
assembled  and  was  giving  vent  to  prolonged 
shouts. 

Going  out  we  discovered  the  natives  hurriedly 
forming   into  two    long  lines  leading   from   the 


NATIVES     FORMING     INTO 
LINE   TO    RECEIVE    THE1K 
RULER. 

From  a  r/ioto. 


fy&fflwji 


I-ron;  a]  UGAZ    NUR,    KING   OK     THE   GADABRUSI. 


[/  hoto. 


362 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


entrance  of  our  zareba  far  across  the  open  space, 
or  natural  parade-ground,  adjoining  the  -camp. 
Quickly  mustering  our  followers  we  continued 
this  formation  inside  the  zareba,  the  men  stand- 
ing with  their  arms  at  the  "  shoulder."  Issuing 
from  the  bushes  at  the  far  end  of  the  line  some 
horsemen  could  be  seen  mounted  on  gaily- 
bedecked  ponies.  Down  the  living  avenue  of 
spearmen  they  came  slowly.  Riding  ahead  was 
an  old  man  on  a  very  quiet  nag.  Behind  him 
came  a  lightly-clad  troop  of  warriors,  whose 
ponies  pranced  and  shied  at  the  loud  shouts  of 
welcome  accorded  the  Royal  personage  by  his 
dusky  subjects.  This  old  man  was  Ugaz  Nur, 
King  or  Sultan  of  the  Gadabrusi.  He  had 
several  other  names  which  I  do  not  remember 
now. 

When  the  King  dismounted  and  came  through 
the  entrance,  our  •  "  soldiers "  (as  they  were 
pleased  to  call  themselves),  taking  the  word  of 
command  from  the  headman,  fired  an  extremely 
irregular  feu  de  joie  over  the  old  man's  head, 
much  to  the  consternation  of  the  usually 
impassive  natives,  as  well  as  somewhat  to  our 
own  surprise.  As  our  men  used  ball  ammunition 
it  is  a  wonder  there  were  not  a  few  casualties  in 
the  crowd.  The  dignified  old  man,  however, 
did  not  wink  an  eye,  but  came  forward  smilingly 
to  greet  us. 

Ugaz  Nur  was  a  man  about  seventy-five  years 
old.  Although  somewhat  stiffened  by  age,  he 
was  tall,  straight,  and  well  built.  Even  the 
weight  of  his  many  years  could  not  alter  the 
chief's  graceful  figure.  The  aquiline  features 
distinctly  showed  Arab  descent,  and  the  negroid 
characteristics  so  frequent  among  these  people 
were,  save  his  very  dark  skin,  noticeably  absent. 
His  face  indicated  intelligence  and  a  pleasant, 
affable  nature  ;  but  at  the  same  time  one  felt 
conscious  of  underlying  subtlety  and  cunning — 
almost  invariable  attributes  of  uncivilized  races. 

His  dress  was  simple  and  lacked  the  usual 
Oriental  splendour.  Many  of  his  subjects  were 
attired  much  more  gaily,  but  none  looked  more 
distinguished.  He  wore  a  crinkly  white  tobe, 
with  the  end  of  which  he  covered  his  head, 
forming  a  hood.  Over  this  he  wore  a  cloak  of 
black  cloth  lined  with  crimson  silk,  probably  a 
present  from  the  Emperor  of  Abyssinia.  In  his 
hand  he  carried  a  simple  staff  instead  of  the 
regulation  shield  and  spear.  His  fighting  days 
were  over,  and  he  now  relied  upon  his  stalwart 
sons  to  protect  him  on  his  journeys.  As  he 
shook  hands  with  us  he  smiled  pleasantly.  His 
manner  was  composed  and  dignified,  evidently 
inherited  from  his  ancestors,  who  were  rulers  in 
the  country  for  many  generations. 

Motioning  him  to  a  chair  placed  between  us 
we  endeavoured,  with  Jama  acting  as  interpreter, 


to  conduct  a  general  conversation.  This  con- 
sisted chiefly  of  flattering  remarks.  When  we 
had  about  exhausted  our  vocabulary  of  compli- 
mentary adjectives,  I  suggested  that  His  Majesty 
was  tired  and  hungry  after  his  long  ride.  This 
was  a  happy  thought,  for  his  eyes  brightened 
and  an  expansive  smile  spread  across  his  face  as 
he  rose  immediately  to  be  conducted  to  our 
headman's  tent.  That  worthy  provided  him 
with  a  good  cup  of  tea,  rice,  dates,  mutton,  and 
bread,  winding  up  the  repast  with  a  cigarette. 

The  Gadabrusi  people  smoke,  but  generally 
speaking  the  Eastern  and  Southern  tribes 
abstain  both  from  tobacco  and  spirits.  All  are 
too  good  Mohammedans  to  touch  a  drop  of 
alcoholic  liquor.  After  the  King  had  finished 
his  meal  he  begged  leave  to  introduce  his  sons 
and  nephews.  One  of  the  former  was  a  great 
lion  and  elephant  hunter.  They  all  seemed 
nice,  frank  boys,  with  charming  manners. 

Instead  of  proceeding  on  our  way  next  morn- 
ing, the  King  requested  us  to  spend  another 
day  at  J  iff  a  Medir  and  witness  the  grand 
"  tomasho  "  which  he  anticipated  giving  in  our 
honour.  That  night  our  mess  tent  was  given 
up  for  the  accommodation  of  the  Royalties 
and  akils.  How  they  all  managed  to  crowd 
into  the  limited  space  was  a  mystery.  I  looked 
in  before  going  to  bed  to  present  a  box  of 
cigarettes,  and  found  them  all  squatting  on  the 
ground  with  scarcely  room  to  move  their  elbows. 
A  lantern  was  swinging  from  the  ridge  pole,  but 
its  light  was  rendered  somewhat  obscure  by  the 
dense  blue  fumes  of  tobacco  smoke  which  filled 
the  tent,  and  almost  choked  me  when  I  put  my 
head  inside  the  flap. 

It  was  a  funny  sight,  the  shaved  heads  of 
the  older  men  looking  like  a  lot  of  black  ebony 
balls  shining  in  the  dim  light.  The  King  was 
there  in  the  middle  of  the  bunch,  being 
"pumped"  by  Jama  Said,  our  diplomatic  head- 
man, who  had  been  delegated  to  ascertain  what 
His  Majesty  expected  in  the  way.of  presents  from 
us,  and  to  bring  his  ambitions  in  that  line  down 
to  a  reasonable  basis. 

Next  morning,  immediately  after  breakfast, 
preparations  were  made  for  the  "  tomasho." 
Camp  chairs  were  placed  under  some  shady 
trees  just  outside  the  zareba,  commanding  a 
good  view  of  the  open  ground.  Many  more 
natives  had  collected  during  the  night,  for  the 
place  seemed  packed  with  warriors  and  fairly 
bristling  with  spears. 

The  parade-ground  was  soon  cleared  for 
action,  after  which  we  marched  out  to  our 
appointed  seats.  The  King,  as  usual,  sat 
between  us.  On  either  flank  stood  our  rifle- 
men, with  loaded  arms,  while  one  was  specially 
delegated  to  stand  directly  behind  the  King,  to 


A    VISIT    TO     THE    GADABRUSI. 


363 


show  the  people  that  if  any  sign  of  treachery 
were  manifested  on  their  part  their  ruler  would  be 
the  first  to  suffer  by  having  his  head  blown  off. 

From  general  appearances  everything  looked 
safe  enough,  and  our  personal  estimate  of  the 
character  of  these  people  would  not  have  jus- 
tified such  precautions,  yet  these  measures  were 
taken  by  our  followers  entirely  upon  their  own 
initiative,  and  we  deemed  it  best  to  accept  their 
judgment  on  the  situation  and  not  to  interfere. 

The  first  part  of  the  "  tomasho  "  consisted  of 
a  display  of  horsemanship.  The  Somalis  are 
good  horsemen,  having  excellent  balance,  and 
ride  with  the  same  abandon  as  do  the  Indians 
of  the  North  American  plains.  Unlike  their 
forebears,  the  Arabs, 
they  treat  their  ponies 
shamefully,  having  no 
consideration      for      the 


the  poor  little  beast's  mouth  every  time  pressure 
is  brought  to  bear  on  the  reins. 

Like  all  exhibitions  by  mounted  tribes  in  this 
region,  this  display  was  of  the  usual  brutal 
character.  Lining  up  several  hundred  yards 
away,  the  horsemen  would  come  galloping 
towards  us  at  full  speed,  lashing  the  small 
ponies  furiously.  As  they  came  tearing  along 
straight  for  us,  and  just  at  the  moment  when  it 
seemed  certain  we  would  be  dashed  into,  the 
rider  would  suddenly  throw  his  weight  upon  the 
reins  and  the  vicious  bit  would  get  in  its  work, 
forcing  the  pony  back  upon  its  haunches,  and 
bringing  the  poor  animal  to  a  dead  stop  in  a 
great  cloud  of  dust  at  our  very  feet.     They  came 


GADABRUSI    HOKSE.MEN    GIVING    AN    EXHIBITION    BEFOKE    THE    VISITORS. 
From  a  Photo. 


creatures 


feelings. 


I    do    not 


think  it  is 
wanton  cruelty,  but  simply  an  absolute  in- 
difference to  the  sufferings  of  animals.  The 
natives  generally  ride  barefooted,  and  thrust 
the  great  toe  of  each  foot  through  a  narrow, 
light  stirrup-iron. 

The  Gadabrusi  pony  is  a  shapely  little  animal, 
not  so  clean-limbed  as  the  Arab,  but  much 
better-looking  and  far  more  handy  than  its 
shaggy  neighbour  the  Abyssinian.  The  accou- 
trements it  has  to  carry  consist  of  a  light,  narrow 
saddle,  similar  to,  but  smaller  and  lighter  than, 
the  stock  saddle  of  the  West.  It  has  the  same 
high  pommel  and  cantle,  between  which  the 
natives  squeeze  themselves,  for  there  is  not  room 
to  sit  comfortably.  The  bridle  is  generally  a 
light  fancy  affair,  gaily  decked  with  red  tassels. 
To  it  is  attached  a  cruel  bit,  something  after  the 
Mexican   pattern,  which   cuts   into   the  roof  of 


so  close  on  some  occa- 
sions that  we  were 
spattered  with  blood  and 
foam  from  the  horses' 
mouths. 
As  this  was  what  they  considered  the  best 
part  of  the  show,  displeasure  could  not  be 
shown  without  creating  a  very  hostile  feeling, 
but  such  cruelty  was  certainly  repugnant.  Three 
times  the  band  of  horsemen  charged  down, 
quite  regardless  of  the  dust  and  sand  with  which 
their  antics  covered  us.  Every  time  they  ha 
the  poet  laureate  of  the  tribe,  or  his  Gadabrusi 
equivalent,  who  was  seated  upon  a  big  white 
pony,  would  chant  a  long  song  of  welcome.  (  M 
course,  there  was  considerable  repetition,  but 
summing  it  all  up  the  substance  of  his  lay  was 
as  follows. 

First  he  recited  the  brave  doings  of  the  Gada- 
brusi, intimating  without  undue  modesty  that 
they  were  the  finest  people  on  earth.  Then  he 
told  how  upon  former  occasions,  when  not  so 
wise  as  they  were  now,  they  considered  all 
Europeans  intruders  and  foolishly  killed  them. 


364 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


A  certain  English  captain  had  been  sent  to 
show  them  they  made  a  mistake,  which -he  did 
by  killing  their  people  and  helping  himself  to 
their  camels  and  sheep.  He  was  a  great  man, 
and  they  now  forgave  him.  We  were  great  men 
also,  and  we  would  be  forgiven  for  coming  into 
their  country.  They  knew  we  did  not  want  to 
steal  camels  and  sheep.  In  fact,  they  were  glad 
to  see  us,  as  they  knew  we  were  rich  and  would 
give  them  presents.  The  more  presents  we 
gave  them  the  greater  men  we  would  be.  Those 
of  the  Gadabrusi  who  were  British  subjects 
liked  the  Government,  because  when  one  of 
their  number  had  been  killed  by  another  tribe 
it  was  no  longer  necessary  to  fight  for  or  steal 
the  requisite  number  of  camels  to  be  paid  by 


tones.  The  weird  sound  of  this,  the  Gadabrusi 
war-song,  gives  one  an  uneasy  feeling  and  is 
calculated  to  strongly  impress  a  waiting  enemy. 

A  cloud  of  dust  above  the  trees  indicated  the 
whereabouts  of  this  large  body  of  men,  and 
soon  through  the  scattered  thorn  trees  a  long 
line  of  warriors  was  visible  coming  out  into 
the  open  space.  It  was  a  scene  to  be  re- 
membered. 

Across  the  glaring  plain,  with  its  background 
of  green  trees,  moved  this  body  of  men,  spears 
held  on  high,  the  steel  points  shining  and 
glittering  in  the  sunlight.  The  costumes  worn 
were  mostly  white,  but  served  only  to  accen- 
tuate the  robes  of  bright  red,  blue,  and  green 
which    showed  at  intervals  in  this   formidable 


!HE   TRIBESMEN    ENACTING   A    FIGHTING    SCENE   IN    HONOUR   OF   THE    AUTHORS    1'ARTY. 

Fro»i  a  Photo. 


the  slayers  in  compensation  for  the  loss  of  their 
man.  The  Government  made  their  enemies  do 
all  that  without  further  bloodshed,  and  they 
were  much  obliged. 

After  each  speech  all  would  shout  "  Mot ! 
Mot  !  "  several  times,  which  is  the  native  form 
of  welcome,  at  the  same  time  wheeling  about 
their  horses  and  dashing  off  to  the  starting-point 
for  a  fresh  charge. 

After  the  third  time  they  rode  off  and  dis- 
mounted. In  the  meantime  the  great  crowd  on 
foot  had  vanished.  Where  they  had  gone  we 
could  not  guess  until  away  in  the  distance  the 
sound  of  many  voices  raised  in  a  melodious 
chant  was  heard.  Nearer  and  nearer  it 
approached,  and  one  could  distinguish  a  single 
voice,  pitched  higher  than  the  rest,  taking  the 
solo  while  the  remainder  joined  in  the  response 
or  chorus  with  deep,  hoarse,  but  withal  musical 


array.  Above  all  was  the  deep-blue  tropical 
sky.  In  advance  were  several  individuals  whose 
antics  and  contortions  at  once  attracted  atten- 
tion. They  were  the  leaders  of  the  dance  and 
principal  actors. 

The  whole  line  moved  slowly  towards  us, 
keeping  time  and  emphasizing  the  music  by 
much  stamping  of  feet,  which  raised  a  cloud  of 
dust  about  them.  As  they  came  closer  the 
actors  redoubled  their  efforts,  working  them- 
selves into  a  perfect  frenzy.  They  would  jump 
from  side  to  side  and  bound  into  the  air  with  wild 
yells,  threatening  each  other  and  sometimes  us 
with  their  murderous-looking  weapons.  They 
would  shake  their  heads  until  their  mat  like  hair 
fell  over  their  faces,  their  eyes  glaring  with 
excitement  through  the  tangled  masses.  Then 
a  pair  would  go  through  a  fighting  scene,  one 
drawing  his  sword  and  making  as  if  to  kill  the 


A    VISIT    TO    THE    GADABRUSI. 


3*5 


other  by  chopping  off  his  head.  To  me  it  was 
a  wonder  an  execution  did  not  actually  take 
place,  so  earnest  was  the  way  they  went 
about  it. 

Finally,  one  man,  fiercer  in  appearance  than 
the  others  and  wearing  an  ostrich  feather 
conspicuously  in  his  hair  to  signify  that  he 
had  killed  an  enemy  in  single  combat,  rushed 
up  to  me  and,  halting  suddenly,  lunged  at 
me  with  his  long,  glittering  spear,  uttering  at 
the  same  time  unearthly  groans,  which  are 
supposed  to  terrify  the  victim.  It  was  time 
for  heroic  action  on  my  part,  so,  adorning 
my  face  with  a  fixed  smile  (it  was  by  no  means 
genuine),  I  carefully  adjusted  my  eye-glass  and 
looked  him  squarely  in  the  face.  This  strategy 
on  my  part  had  the  desired  effect.  The  eye- 
glass was  a  fetich  he  had  never  seen  before. 
His  ferocious  glare  vanished,  his  eyelids 
quivered,  he  looked  down  and  then  away  from 
me.  The  raised  arm  lowered  and  the  wicked 
spear-blade  fell  harmlessly  to  the  ground.  It 
was  amusing  to  hear  his  fierce  groans  get  so 
feeble.  I  did  not  have  to  force  a  happy  look, 
for  by  that  time  I  was  laughing  heartily  at  his 
discomfiture. 

Routed  by  the  magic  of  a  monocle,  the  savage 
beat  a  hasty  retreat  towards  the  main  body,  for- 
getting in  his  flurried  condition  that  it  was  his 
duty  to  shake  hands  and  congratulate  me  on  my 
courage  after  he  had  sufficiently  put  it  to  the 
test. 

Wedding  and  other  dances  followed,  in  which 
the  spears  are  discarded  and  the  time  of  the 
song  marked  in  typical  African  fashion  by 
clapping  the  hands.  After  the  performance  was 
over  they  all  collected  around  us  in  a  huge  semi- 
circle to  hear  us  express  our  appreciation  of 
their  efforts.  This  we  did  through  an  inter- 
preter,  saying    how  pleased   we   were   with    the 


exhibition  and  what  fine  people  they  all  were, 
ending  up  by  wishing  that  Allah  would  make 
them  extremely  wealthy  and  fearfully  fat— the 
Gadabrusi  idea  of  happiness.  Judging  by  the 
broad  smiles  that  greeted  our  remarks  we  had 
pleased  our  audience  immensely. 

In  the  afternoon  the  presents  were  distributed 
— a  task  we  entrusted  to  Jama.  Tobes,  tobacco, 
and  rice  were  given  to  'the  men,  while  head- 
dresses, sashes,  and  beads  were  to  be  taken  to 
the  wives  and  daughters.  None  of  the  latter 
were  present ;  in  fact,  the  absence  of  women 
from  the  affair  was  a  noticeable  feature. 

In  connection  with  the  distribution  of  presents 
the  following  incident  serves  to  show  the  clever- 
ness of  the  old  King.  He  wanted  a  present  of 
tea,  and  on  being  told  that  we  had  none  to  give 
away  and  barely  enough  for  our  own  immediate 
use,  he  asked  for  a  very  small  quantity.  Jama 
thought  he  could  put  him  off  by  saying  he  felt 
ashamed  to  come  to  us  and  ask  for  another 
present  in  the  name  of  the  King  after  all  we  had 
given  him,  and  in  any  case  it  would  be  undigni- 
fied for  such  a  great  man  to  ask  for  such  a  small 
present.  The  old  man  smiled  and  scratched  his 
head  thoughtfully  for  a  minute.  Then  he  said  : 
"Tell  them  that  my  request  is  but  one  of  the' 
eccentricities  of  a  very  old  man,  and  that  one 
who  has  reached  my  years  is  privileged  to  ask 
little  favours  without  loss  of  dignity." 

Jama  was  beaten,  and  acknowledged  defeat  by 
taking  the  King  to  his  tent  and  giving  him  what 
he  asked  for  from  his  own  private  store. 

Before  leaving  next  morning  the  King  came 
into  the  tent  while  I  was  dressing  and  presented 
me  with  a  spear  as  a  souvenir  of  our  meeting. 
Our  caravan  was  soon  afterwards  on  the  march, 
and  before  many  hours  were  past  we  were  once 
more  over  the  boundary  and  camping  in  British 
territory. 


THE    MOONSHINERS. 


By  Rufus  Cobb,  Formerly  of  the  United  States  Revenue  Service. 

The    conclusion    of    this     thrilling    narrative  of   adventures    underground,  describing  the 
author's    escape    from    the    vengeful    "  Moonshiners "    and    the    horrible    experiences    that 

befell    him  ere  he  again  saw  the  light  of  day. 


II. 


iMf 


HEN  I  comprehended  the  full  in- 
tentions of  my  ruffianly  captors  I 
felt  a  cold  thrill  of  horror.  Fer- 
vently I  hoped  that  something 
would  happen  to  distract  the 
villains'  attention,  if  only  for  an  instant,  so  that 
I  could  work  my  jaws  partly  free  from  the  gag, 
ready  to  dislodge  it  when  the  time  came  to 
shout. 

Something  did  happen.  The  man  who  was 
doing  the  talking  made  an  abrupt  pause  at  that 
moment  to  jump  back  from  me  and  raise  his 
hand  warningly  as  a  signal  for  silence.  Then 
he  bent  in  a  listening  attitude  toward  the  tunnel- 
way.  I  knew  what  the  move  meant.  My  faith- 
ful little  partner  had  succeeded  in  finding  at 
least  some  of  my  deputies,  and  they  were  now 
creeping  into  the  trap  set  for  them. 

The  brief  time  I  had  to  do  anything  in  now 
made  me  desperate,  for,  knowing  it  was  the 
gang's  purpose  to  cast  all  of  us  adrift  in  a  body, 
I  figured  that  if  I  could  warn  my  men  and  help 
them  to  escape  it  would  interrupt  the  programme 
long  enough  for  me  to  do  something  towards 
my  own  escape.  Also  it  would  leave  my  men 
in  a  position  to  be  gathering  reinforcements. 
It  seemed  the  only  thing  for  me  to  do,  and  I 
had  less  than  half  an  hour  in  which  to  attempt 
it  before  the  torches  would  blaze  out  again. 

While  revolving  these  things  in  my  mind  I 
had  been  working  frantically  to  loosen  the  gag, 
and  my  heart  sank  very  low  when  I  realized  that 
the  thing  had  been  placed  where  it  was  by  a 
master  hand,  and  had  been  put  there  to  stay  ! 

The  approaching  pair"  were  already  in  the 
passage.  I  heard  one  of  them,  whom  I  recog- 
nised as  Bill  Horton,  one  of  my  best  scouts,  call 
outside  in  a  guarded  whisper  :  "Are  you  there, 
Captain  Cobb  ?  Are  you  all  right  ?  "  just  as  the 
torches  flared  up  ;  and  at  that  same  instant  a 
sharp  prick  in  one  of  my  wrists  from  a  jagged 
rock  (my  arms  were  bound  behind  me,  palms 
outwards)  caused  my  heart  to  leap  with  renewed 
hope.  A  means  of  deliverance  flashed  through 
my  mind.  I  would  cut  the  ropes  that  pinioned 
my  hands  by  rubbing  them  against  the  razor- 
edged  rocks.  Then  I  could  unfasten  the  ropes 
about  my  legs  with  my  freed  hands,  and  so  be 
ready  to  escape. 

Such  was  my  joy  and  relief  over  this  sudden 


change  in  my  prospects  that  I  could  almost 
have  laughed  when  I  saw  the  expression  of 
surprise  and  dumfounded  dismay  on  the  faces 
of  Horton  and  the  other  deputy  when  the 
torches  flashed  up  and  they  felt  themselves 
seized.  I'm  not  sure  I  was  not  glad  that  some- 
one beside  myself  was  to  prove  a  "  dead  easy 
one,"  and  blunder  all  unsuspectingly  into  the 
trap. 

It  was  not  until  the  fourth  couple  had  been 
gathered  in  and  lined  up — the  same  ludicrous 
scene  being  repeated  each  time  with  but  little 
variation — that  I  finally  had  the  pleasure  of 
feeling  the  ropes  on  my  wrists  yield,  and  pre- 
sently part  and  fall.  The  fifth  couple  had  been 
signalled  and  the  torches  again  extinguished 
when  I  shook  off  the  last  of  my  bonds  and 
began  moving,  a  free  man,  out  into  the  dark 
tunnel.  My  heart  was  in  my  mouth— for,  ten 
steps  away,  on  the  opposite  edge  of  the  passage, 
the  Moonshiners  were  massed  to  await  their 
fresh  prey.  They  had  relaxed  their  watchful- 
ness over  me,  believing  me  secure,  but  I  knew 
that  at  any  moment  I  might  butt  into  a  pile  of 
loose  rocks  and  start  them  tumbling.  It  was  a 
nerve-racking  ordeal,  that  slow  creep  towards 
freedom,  but  it  was  as  nothing  to  the  horrors  of 
the  fate  I  had  been  promised. 

I  had  a  clear  plan  of  action  mapped  out.  I 
intended  to  meet  the  last  couple  and  the  boy — 
if  possible  far  enough  down  the  tunnel  so  that 
they  could  escape  with  me.  We  four  would  then 
hurry  to  the  telegraph  office,  two  miles  away,  and 
dispatch  an  urgent  message  to  Louisville  for 
assistance  to  rescue  our  eight  comrades.  I 
expected  the  Moonshiners,  when  they  discovered 
my  escape,  to  scatter  in  search  of  me,  simply 
holding  their  eight  prisoners  and  making  no 
effort  to  wreak  their  vengeance  until  they  had 
captured  all  of  us. 

I  got  through  the  passage-way  without  the 
slightest  false  move,  creeping  along  sideways  for 
the  first  few  yards  on  the  flat  of  my  hands,  and 
holding  my  breath.  When  I  thought  it  was  safe, 
after  pausing  to  listen  for  a  second,  I  got  up  to 
my  hands  and  knees  for  a  few  yards  more,  and 
then  jumped  to  my  feet  and  plunged  down  the 
tunnel.     My  escape  had  not  been  noticed. 

I  had  run  what  I  began  to  think  was  the 
whole  length  of  the  tunnel  before  my  excitement 


THE    MOONSHINERS. 


3^7 


cooled  down  enough  for  me  to  notice  that  some- 
thing was  wrong.  I  had  heard  nothing  of  the 
approaching  party,  and  had  encountered  none 
of  the  narrow  places  I  knew  should  lie  in 
my  path.     I  stopped 


running    to 


gaze 


about  me  in  per- 
plexity, and  was  sur- 
prised upon  glancing 
upward  to  see  what 
appeared  to  be  the 
broad  canopy  of 
heaven  stretched 
above  ne—  a  night 
sky,  set  with  a  my- 
riad of  twinkling 
stars,  although  I  was 
sure  that  it  v\as  then 
close  to  the  hour  of 
noon  ! 

I  had  at  that  time 
had  but  little  experi- 
ence underground, 
and  it  took  several 
moments  of  puzzled 
wondering  before  I 
realized  what  had 
happened.  Then  it 
suddenly  flashed 
across  my  mind  that, 
instead  of  being  in 
the  tunnel  or  out 
under  the  night  sky,. 
I  had  blundered  into 
some  entirely  un- 
known side  cavern, 
the  crystallized  lime- 
stone roof  of  which 
was     my     supposed 

sky!  I  recalled  that  when  I  had  first  felt  my  way 
up  the  dark  tunnel  I  had  encountered  several 
alcoves,  as  I  supposed,  in  the  walls  ;  I  knew 
now  that  at  least  one  of  these  alcoves  must  have 
been  an  overlapping  entrance  to  a  lateral  cave, 
which  I  could  easily  pass  through  in  mistake 
when  headed  toward  the  tunnel's  mouth.  This, 
then,  was  what  I  had  done ;  and  I  silently 
cursed  my  ill-luck  as  I  realized  the  state  of 
affairs. 

I  began  frantically  trying  to  locate  the  hole  in 
the  wall  through  which  I  had  stumbled.  I  still 
heard  no  unusual  noises,  either  from  friends  or 
foes,  and  had  a  desperate  hope  that  I  might  yet 
be  in  time  to  warn  the  party  of  three,  if  I  moved 
rapidly.  In  the  faint  phosphorescent  glow  which 
is  common  in  immense  caves  (which  fact  alone 
would  have  warned  me  I  was  off  my  course  had 
I  been  more  experienced — experience  I  was  to 
have  afterwards  with  a  vengeance)  I  made  out 


1    MADE    OUT   WHAT   1    WAS    CONFIDENT    WAS    THE    TUNNEL    WALL. 


what  I  was  confident  was  the  tunnel  wall. 
Imagine,  then,  the  consternation  I  felt  when  I 
rushed  toward  this  black  mass  to  see  it  recede 
from   me  at  the  same  pace  as  I  approached  it ; 

and  then  to  have  yet 
other  black  masses, 
which  loomed  up 
regularly  to  lure  me 
a  few  feet  farther  on, 
elude  me  also  when 
I  ran  madly  toward 
them,  as  a  desert 
mirage  allures  and 
eludes  lost  travellers. 
I  must  have  kept 
up  this  disheartening 
chase  for  half  an 
hour  before  I  finally 
sank  down,  tempor- 
arily exhausted,  to 
realize  that  I  was 
lost — hopelessly  so, 
apparently — in  a 
cave  of  such  huge 
dimensions  that  it 
seemed  to  be  with- 
out walls.  The  very 
fact  that  I  had  heard 
no  sound  of  com- 
motion, even  dis- 
tantly, such  as  would 
surely  have  followed 
the  discovery  of  my 
escape  was  conclu- 
sive proof  that  I  had 
run  a  great  distance 
out  of  my  intended 
course  before  be- 
coming aware  that 
I  had  left  the  tunnel.  I  was  lost — with  no 
knowledge  whatever  not  only  as  to  what 
part  of  the  underground  world  I  was  in  as 
regards  the  location  at  the  two  particular  cave- 
chambers  I  was  anxious  to  steer  clear  of,  but  I 
had  even  lost  all  knowledge  as  to  the  points  of 
the  compass  ! 

I  had  got  into  trouble  after  all,  just  as  my  late 
diminutive  partner  had  said  I  should  if  left  to 
my  own  initiative.  Disconsolately  I  summed 
up  the  total  outcome  of  my  cherished  plans.  I 
had  not  bettered  my  own  situation  by  my 
intended  "  escape,"  and,  moreover,  I  had  done 
nothing  at  all  but  stir  up  a  hornets'  nest  among 
the  Moonshiners,  and  then  eliminate  myself  in 
the  nick  of  time  for  my  deputies  and  poor, 
brave,  eager-eyed  little  Eddie  Goff  to  come  in 
for  the  full  brunt  of  the  gang's  fury ! 

I  don't  positively  know  what  it  was  that  called 
my  attention  suddenly  to  the  distant  murmuring 


363. 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


of   the    underground    river,   and    brought    back 
vividly  to  my  mind  my  villainous  captors'  story. 

I  remembered  that  the  stream,  according  to 
the  Moonshiner,  ran  into  the  caves  at  some 
point,  passing  directly  through  the  secret  still- 
room  of  the  gang.  It  was  certainly  too  late  for 
me  to  be  of  service  in  the  tunnel,  even  had  I 
known  where  it  lay,  and  therefore  it  behoved 
me  to  reach  the  outside  world  and,  if  possible, 
obtain  assistance  for  my  imprisoned  friends.  It 
flashed  through  my  mind  that  the  likeliest  way 
for  me  to  accomplish  my  desires,  with  the  least 
element  of  delay,  was  to  hazard  a  trip  straight 
through  the  gang's  workshop  by  creeping  along 
the  river  -  bank  in  the  shadow.  I  knew  the 
stream  ran  from  east  to  west,  and  that  if  I 
travelled  in  the  opposite  direction  to  its  current 
I  should  reach  the  point  where  it  entered  the 
caves.  I  figured  that  circumstances  should 
favour  me  just  at 
this  time,  be- 
cause there  was 
little  doubt  I 
should  find  their 
cave  deserted 
and  the  Moon- 
shiners engaged 
in  trying  to 
recapture  me  by 
a  chase  down  the 
tunnel.  It  would 
be  a  hazardous 
enough  venture, 
but  seemed  the 
only  practical 
thing  to  do. 

I      had     no 
difficulty   in 
the 


the  outside  world.  Again  recalling  the  Moon- 
shiners' tale,  it  required  but  little  thought  to 
convince  me  that  somewhere  in  the  space  be- 
tween the  broad  door  and  the  archway,  on  the 
same  bank  I  was  standing  on — for  the  opposite 
bank  was  a  sheer  wall  so  far  as  I  could  see — was 
where  the  gang's  workshop  was  situated.  I  took 
all  this  in  at  a  glance,  and  then  set  out  at  a  good 
pace  up  the  river's  edge,  it  being  my  purpose  to 
creep  along  the  side  of  the  bank,  where  there 
was  deep  shadow,  when  actually  passing  through 
the  still-room. 

Reaching  the  opening  in  the  wall  and  peering 
cautiously  round  its  edge,  I  was  horrified  to  see 
two  members  of  the  Moonshiners'  gang  standing 
less  than  twenty  feet  away  from  me,  with  their 
backs  turned  toward  me,  apparently  repairing 
what  I  took  to  be  a  piece  of  apparatus  used  by 
the  fellows   in   their   illegal  distilling  operations. 


reaching 
river,     w  h  o  s  < 


AS    Hllkkll  U-.l) 


murky  surface  I 
could  see  glim- 
mering dully  at 
right  angles  to 
my  path  before 
I  had  traversed 
a  hundred  yards. 

I  noted  that  its  waters  ran  turgid  close  in-shore, 
but  became  a  roaring  torrent  in  mid-stream. 
Involuntarily  I  pictured  myself  and  men,  bound 
helplessly  in  boats  without  oars,  rushing  down 
the  stream  to  our  deaths  in  the  unknown  cave- 
regions  beyond.  Glancing  up-current  toward 
my  left,  I  saw  where  the  river  shot  into  my 
cavern  at  a  broad  doorway  of  rock  in  a  distant 
wall ;  this  opening  being  clearly  outlined  against 
a  background  of  bright  daylight  where,  a  short 
distance  farther  along  still  and  in  a  straight  line, 
the  stream  entered  through  a  great  arch  from 


MEMBERS   (J !•"    THE    MOONSHINERS     GANG. 


I  could  now  hear  sounds  as  if  some  sort  of  a 
melee  were  in  progress  in  what  was  probably  the 
rear  cave,  where  my  companions  were  im- 
prisoned. After  reviewing  the  situation  for  a 
moment,  I  dropped  noiselessly  into  the  river 
close  to  the  shore — first  hurriedly  makingabundle 
of  my  coat,  vest,  and  shoes,  which  I  placed  over 
my  shoulders,  with  the  coat-sleeves  tied  in  front 
of  my  neck — and  proceeded  to  swim  past  the 
dangerous  locality.  Fortunately  I  was  a  power- 
ful swimmer,  and  I  did  my  utmost  to  proceed 
without  making  a  sound. 


THE    MOONSHINERS. 


369 


I  had  just 
reached  the  outer 
edge  of  bright 
light  inside  the 
archway  when  I 
heard  shouts  as 
if  from  persons 
running  rapidly 
toward  the  river- 
bank.  I  had  only 
that  same  instant 
turned  my  eyes 
from  the  two  un- 
conscious Moon- 
shiners, who  had 
thus  far  appa- 
rently not  noticed 
me.  The  un- 
looked  -  for  cries 
startled  me,  and 
without  an  in- 
stant's delay  1 
dived  —  swi  m- 
ming  under  water 
was  a  pet  accom- 
plishment  of 
mine  —  though 

the  bundle  on  my  shoulders,  of  which  I  had 
no  time  to  rid  myself,  impeded  me  somewhat. 
I  came  up  half  strangled  by  the  weight  of 
the  wet  clothes  and  blowing  like  a  porpoise, 
spluttering  and  gasping  for  breath. 

What  was  my  astonishment  and  alarm  to  see 
a  boat — a  clumsy  dug-out,  such  as  is  propelled 
with  one  paddle — headed  straight  toward  me  a 
short  distance  up-stream.  I  was  afraid  it  held 
some  member  of  the  Moonshiner  gang.  My 
fear,  however,  turned  swiftly  to  the  keenest 
astonishment  when,  dashing  the  water  out  of  my 
eyes  with  one  hand,  I  recognised  instantly, 
beyond  the  possibility  of  a  doubt,  my  late 
diminutive  guide,  Eddie  Goff. 

What  fresh  scheme  of  daring  could  the 
youngster  have  conceived  ?  But  he  left  me  no  time 
for  excited  conjectures.  Whatever  horrid  river 
monster  he  took  me  to  be,  rising  so  abruptly 
from  the  stream,  bundled,  dripping,  and  puffing 
as  I  was,  I  have  no  idea.  That  he  certainly  did 
think  me  nothing  short  of  some  awful  apparition 
I  am  convinced,  for  with  a  frightened  little  howl 
he  plunged  headlong  over  the  edge  of  his  boat. 

I  shouted  his  name,  utterly  heedless  of  my 
own  peril  in  my  alarm  for  the  little  fellow's 
safety,  and  struck  out  for  him.  He  had  instantly 
sunk,  right  at  the  edge  of  the  swift  current— 
luckily  on  my  side  of  the  stream — at  a  point 
where  the  water  was  quite  twenty  feet  deep.  I  was 
horrified  upon  reaching  the  spot  not  to  see  him 
come  up.      But    I   wasted    no   time.      Treading 

Vol.  xiv.  —47. 


HE    PLUNGED    HEADLONG    OVER    THE    EDGE    I  If     1 1 1  -^    I 


water,  I  quickly  unburdened  myself  of  the  bundle 
of  clothes  and  prepared  to  dive  after  him.  I 
cast  a  glance  behind  me  to  make  sure  whether 
our  enemies  had  been  attracted  by  my  shouting 
and  might  have  to  be  reckoned  with  when  I 
arose,  and  was  now  astounded  to  see  the  boy's 
head  bob  to  the  surface.  Some  undercurrent,  I 
decided,  had  swept  him  straight  underneath  me. 
to  bowl  him  up  again  almost  inside  the  cave  of 
the  foe — whom  I  had  no  idea  of  yielding  him 
up  to,  had  the  peril  been  ten  times  what  it  was  ! 
Once  more  I  struck  out,  this  time  downstream. 

Then,  somehow,  a  powerful  eddy  must  have 
seized  me.  When  I  was  within  a  yard  of  tin- 
apparently  unconscious  lad  I  was  swept  bodily 
into  the  very  heart  of  the  torrent  and  sucked 
under,  but  fought  my  way  up  again— to  feel  the 
abandoned  dug-out,  which  had  been  drifting 
aimlessly  along  the  seething  current,  strike  me 
violently  upon  the  back.  In  desperation  I 
seized  its  gunwale  with  both  hands  and 
clambered  in. 

Nearly  exhausted  by  my  struggle  I  stumbled 
and  fell,  the  back  of  my  neck  striking  the  edge 
of  the  boat  with  stunning  tone,  leaving  me 
stretched  sideways  aeross  the  craft's  bottom  in 
such  a  position  that  when  it  began  to  travel  at  a 
terrific  pace   down-stream    in   the  of  the 

current  my  face  was  turned  shoreward. 

I  caught  a  swift  glimpse  of  dancing  torches 
along  the  shore,  and  a  fleeting  vision  of  friends 
and  foes  engaged  in  a  desperate  hand-to-hand 


37° 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


fight  close  to  the  river's  edge.  I  was  positive, 
even  in  my  bewildered  condition,  that  I  saw  the 
pale  face  of  the  boy  again,  floating  close  in-shore 
where  the  water  was  quiet.  The  whole  tableau 
passed  like  a  lightning  flash  before  my  eyes,  and 
then  my  frail  craft  plunged  from  sight  of  it  into 
what  was  almost  Stygian  darkness. 

'Looking  round  I  saw  that  the  paddle  had 
been  lost  overboard,  and  realized  in  a  numb 
sort  of  fashion  how  completely  helpless  I  was. 
In  seeking  to  escape  the  awful  fate  the  Moon- 
shiners had  arranged  for  me,  I  had  tumbled 
headlong,  so  to  speak,  into  it.  I  was  being 
borne  at  a  tremendous  rate  of  speed  into  the 
unknown  depths  of  the  black  caverns,  and 
I  had  saved  no  one,  neither  myself  nor  my 
men. 

Can  anyone  imagine  a  more  desperate  situa- 
tion than  mine  at  that  moment  ?  There  I  was, 
coatless,  shoeless,  and  bareheaded,  partially 
benumbed,  both  physically  and  mentally,  by  the 
severe  blow  to  my  spine,  lying  helpless  in  a 
clumsy  dug-out  boat,  which  was  rushing  at 
terrific  speed  into  the  unknown  regions  of  a 
series  of  black  caverns,  into  which  no  man  had 
ever  preceded  me  to  return  alive  ! 

It  was  probably  the  rush  of  the  cold  cave  air 
against  my  face  which  the  tremendous  speed 
engendered  that  started  my  senses  struggling 
back  to  me  almost  instantly  after  I  had  plunged 
out  of  range  of  the  real  or  fancied  scenes  along 
the  shore  of  the  Moonshiners'  cave.  A  particu- 
larly fierce  gust  of  wind  as  the  rough  craft  shot 
around  a  bend  in  the  sheer  wall  on  my  left 
suddenly  roused  me,  and  I  scrambled  to  my 
knees  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat  with  all  my 
senses  keenly  re-awakened.  I  began  a  frantic 
search  for  a  pole  or  extra  paddle  which  by  any 
lucky  accident  might  prove  to  have  been  placed 
in  the  boat.  I  had  no  idea  of  trying  to  stop 
the  mad  race  of  the  craft — as  well  might  I 
have  attempted  to  check  the  momentum  of  a 
runaway  locomotive  with  a  pole !  But  I 
realized  that  at  any  moment  the  boat  might 
be  hurled  out  of  the  swift  current  in  taking 
a  sharp  curve  and  dashed  against  the  mighty 
rock-wall  or  the  opposite  bank,  either  of  which 
meant  certain  destruction  for  me.  If  I  could 
keep  the  craft  in  mid-stream  I  was  safe  for  a 
time  at  least,  barring  collisions. 

I  crept  fearfully  the  length  of  the  dug-out  in 
both  directions,  clinging  with  one  hand  to  its 
edge  and  making  frantic  clutches  with  the  other 
about  the  bottom,  but  found  nothing — -not  even 
a  loose  seat  -  plank.  The  boat  rocked  too 
violently  for  me  to  dare  take  a  position  where  I 
could  exert  my  full  strength  against  the  single 
cross-plank  which  had  been  wedged  in  as  a  seat. 
Then  for  a  moment  I  braced  myself  firmly  on 


the  floor  of  the  boat,  gripping  this  seat  with  both 
hands,  and  tried  to  think  calmly. 

All  I  could  see  was  a  black  bank  of  air  rushing 
past  me  on  the  right,  a  slightly  lighter  mass  on 
my  left  waving  swiftly  in  toward  me  and  then 
away  from  me,  as  the  boat  swerved  in  its  head- 
long plunges  round  the  bends — the  light  effect 
being  caused  by  the  faint  reflection  thrown  off 
by  the  solid  gypsum  wall.  In  front  and  all 
around  water  as  black  as  ink  dashed  against  the 
boat  and  threatened  to  swamp  it.  Over  my  head 
there  was  more  blackness,  looking  to  my  strain- 
ing eyes  like  rushing  storm-clouds. 

I  was  sitting  in  the  bottom  of  the  dug-out, 
grasping  the  seat,  with  my  feet  braced  against 
both  sides  of  the  boat,  when  the  only  thing 
happened  that  I  hadn't  pictured  mentally  as  a 
possible  source  of  accident.  I  suddenly  heard 
a  roaring  noise,  apparently  over  my  head,  but 
which  was  so  instantly  reverberated  through 
the  great  vault  that  it  was  impossible  to  tell 
where  it  came  from.  This  noise  was  succeeded, 
before  I  could  do  more  than  look  up,  by  a 
mighty  tearing,  rushing,  ripping  sound,  which 
the  echoes  also  magnified  a  thousandfold,  as 
though  the  entire  underground  world  were 
suddenly  collapsing  and  its  walls  and  roof 
tumbling  about  my  ears.  Looking  forward 
and  up  to  the  point  whence  the  first  sound 
had  seemed  to  proceed,  I  saw  with  horror  that 
the  whole  face  of  the  mighty  wall  upon  my  left 
and  directly  ahead  of  me  appeared  to  be  sliding 
down  upon  myself  and  boat.  That  it  was  no  visual 
illusion  due  to  the  rapid  motion  and  weird  gloom 
the  awful  crashing  proved.  It  was  just  what  it 
appeared  to  be — an  avalanche  of  rock,  caused  by 
a  huge  section  of  the  sheer  wall  having  suddenly 
detached  itself,  coming  straight  for  the  river. 

Just  howl  managed  to  come  alive  through 
this  fresh  catastrophe  is  one  of  those  unexplained 
mysteries  which  come  into  all  active  men's  lives. 
The  avalanche  caught  my  frail  boat  broadside 
on  before  I  had  quite  got  to  my  knees.  I  felt 
myself  lifted  as  though  some  powerful  giant  had 
laid  hold  of  the  craft  and  then  being  hurled 
forward,  with  my  hands  gripping  desperately  at 
the  cross-seat.  I  had  a  sickening  sensation  of 
cleaving  the  black  air,  of  suddenly  parting 
company  with  the  boat,  and  of  striking  the 
solid  floor  of  the  cave  on  my  head. 

A  man  who  had  not  been  born  for  some 
specific  fate  would  surely  have  had  his  brains 
dashed  out  by  the  fearful  fall  I  got.  Fortunately 
— or  unfortunately,  as  one  looks  at  it — I  was  not 
killed  ;  but  I  lost  consciousness— to  come  back 
to  things  terrestrial,  or  sub-terrestrial,  at  some 
indefinite  later  period,  as  crazy  as  a  man  can  be' 
who  has  had  all  his  senses  knocked  completely 
out  of  him  by  a  brain  concussion  ! 


THE    MOONSHINERS. 


37i 


I  have  only  a  nightmare  sort  of  recollection  of 
my  experiences  after  the  fall  of  the  avalam 
I  had  an  insane  man's  fancy  that  I  was  being 
chased  for  my  life,  or  that  I  was  chasing  some 
other  persons  for  their  lives,  but,  as  I  have  said, 
I  have  to-day  only 
a  hazy  kind  of 
memory  of  what  I 
went  through.  It 
was  probably  a 
real  mercy  to  me 
that  I  was  permit- 
ted to  go  through 
my  wanderings  in 
that  awful  subter- 
ranean labyrinth  in 
a  half-craz.ed  con- 
dition.' The  ex- 
periences and 
sufferings  I  should 
have  undergone  as 
a  sane  man  would 
have  been  far 
more  terrible. 

For  three  days 
and  nights  I 
roamed  the  caves, 
and  then  I  was 
finally  captured  by 
the  faithful  friends 
who  had  come  in 
search  of  me. 
When  found  I 
looked  the  per- 
sonification of  a 
typical  cave 
demon.  I  wore 
my  hair  long — as 
the  style  was  then 
among  my  planter 
friends  — and  this 
hung  in  tangled 
masses  about  my 
face,  which  was  as 
pale    as     death. 

Blood  had  streaked  across  my  face  from 
my  injured  scalp,  and  dried  on  ;  such  clothes 
as  I  had  left  hung  in  rags,  and  my  feet 
were  bare  and  bleeding.*  To  make  my 
uncanny  appearance  complete  and  realistic  I  had 
possessed  myself  of  an  immense  club — a  section 
of  the  dug-out  boat,  which  had  been  smashed 
into  fragments  when  it  was  wrecked.  When  dis- 
covered, I  was  running  up  and  down  the  brink 
of  what  is  now  known  as  the  "  Bottomless  Pit  " 
in  the  famous  Mammoth  Cave  itself,  more  than 


*  To  this  day  I  am  compelled  to  walk  with  the  aid  ol  Sticks, 
owing  to  the  injuries  my  feet  received  from  the  jagged  rocks  of  the 
caves. — Thk  Author. 


1    HAD    A    SICKENING    SENSATION    "t-    CLEAVING   THE    BLACK    AIK 


twenty  miles  from  the  spot  wl 

had  cast  me  ashi  ir 

1   must   now    come   back    to   in. 

and  tell  their  story  briefly. 

My  last  glimpse  of  my  faithful  lieutenant  Bill 

Horton  \\m\   b 
when     I  him 

standing  blink 
with   a 

look    <.i     surpi 
and  dismay  on  his 
,   in   that  little 
black  cavern  wi 
the     Moonshii 
had     just,     sprung 
their   trap  on    him 
andhiscompanion. 
I  was  1\ ing  on  a 
little  iron  cot,  with 
head  swathed 
in  bandages,  when 
I   caught  my  next 
look   at    111  l's  I 
This    was     in     St. 
Vincent's  I  losp  tal 
a  t     Lou  i  s\  i  1  I  (  . 
where  1    had    !  • 
taken      aft  r      the 
search  party  found 
in  e  — just     two 
vv<  eks  earlier. 

-Halloa.  Bill!" 
I  said,  suddenly, 
in  a  weak  voice, 
my  mind  still  a 
littl'  I     as 

to   which    world   I 
was  in.     "  Are  you 
the     real    thing, 
or  are  both  ot 
dead  nun  ?  " 

"Well,  cap,"  he 
1  broad 
smile    spread   over 
his  face,  for  hi 

no  doubt  glad  to  hear  something  beside  mean 

less  ravings  pass  my  lips,  "  I  reckon   both  of  us 

have  had  a  pretty  close  call,  and  especiall) 

But  we're  both  living,  thank  goodi 

"How  did  you  escape  from  the  Moonshin 

Bill?"  I  asked,  haltingly.     "Was  then    figl 

in  the  front  cave?     And  how  about  th; 

little " 

"Now  you  keep  quiet,  captaii 

fit   to    go    getting    yourself   all    - 

exi  lied  asking  questions. 


i.-   known    passages    in 

between   a   hundred  mlks 

4th  ! 


372 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


in,  abruptly.  "You'll  hear  all  about  it  when 
you're  braced  up.  Here's  the  nurse  coming 
now  to  rate  me." 

But  I  wasn't  to  be  put  off.  I  saw  he  was 
keeping  something  back,  and  it  aroused  my 
fighting  blood.  "  You've  got  to  answer  two 
questions  anyhow,  Horton,"  I  insisted,  forcing  a 
little  strength  into  my  tone  and  manner. 

"  Well,  what  are  they,  then  ?  Speak  quick, 
since  you  insist,"  replied  the  poor  fellow,  throw- 
ing a  nervous  glance  over  his  shoulder  toward 
the  approaching  nurse. 

"  Was  there  a  fight,  and  how  did  you  get 
away?  That's  one  question.  And  what  hap- 
pened to  the  brave  little  Goff  lad  ? "  I  asked, 
rapidly. 

"  There  was  a  fight,"  said  Bill,  "  and  we  won. 
We've  got  every  blessed  Moonshiner  up  here  in 
the  Federal  gaol  now,  and  no  one  killed.  'Twas 
the  last  couple  to  enter  the  trap — Dorman  and 
the  Frenchman — who  kept  their  wits  about  'em, 
and  knocked  three  of  the  gang  senseless  with 
their  guns  clubbed,  and  then  unloosed  some  of 
the  rest  of  us.  That  started  the  fracas.  Then, 
when  we'd  run  the  gang  out  into  the  front  cave 
and  were  getting  in  our  last  blows,  someone 
spied  you  tearing  down-stream  in  a  boat,  and 
after  we'd  finished  the  'Shiners  five  men  stayed 
and  watched  the  prisoners — as  savage  a  mob 
they  were  as  ever  you  saw,  too — and  five  more 
of  us  started  to  hunt  you.  And  a  fine  chase 
you  led  us,  cap  !  Six  times  we  sighted  you, 
galloping  along  ahead  of 
us,  swinging  that  club  o' 
yours,  and  howling  fit  to 
raise  the  dead — and  each 
time  you  beat  us  run- 
ning and  got  away  in 
the  dark.  We  were 
three  days  with  hardly 
a  bite  to  eat,  not  even 
stopping " 

"  But  the  lad  —  how 
about  brave  little  Eddie 
Goff?"  I  interrupted,  im- 
patiently, a  vague  idea 
beginning  to  form  in  my 
mind  that  this  part  of  the 
subject  was  being  pur- 
posely evaded.  "Was 
the  poor  boy  really  dead 
when  I  saw  his  body 
floating?  Did  you 
make  no  effort  to  save 
him  ?  " 

"  Dead  !  Him  dead  !  " 
exclaimed      Horton, 


sacrificing  grammar  to  what  was  manifestly 
scorn.  "  Well,  I  should  say  not.  And  we 
saved  him  all  right — all  the  saving  he  needed, 
which  was  to  make  sure  he  didn't  escape.  Why, 
that  little  rascal  could  have  swum  under  water 
for  an  hour,  I  believe,  if  his  game  had  made 
the  move  necessary." 

By  this  time  the  nurse  was  by  our  side,  but  I 

fought  her  away  feebly  when  she  endeavoured 

.  to  make  me  lie  down  again.     I  raised  myself  up 

on   my   elbow   through   sheer   wonder   at    what 

Horton  meant. 

"  As  for  his  being  a  poor  little  fellow,"  the 
latter  went  on,  chuckling  and  apparently  mightily 
amused  by  some  sudden  memory,  "  it  was  he- 
nobody  else — who  put  up  the  whole  blessed  job 
on  us  !  He  put  the  'Shiners  on  to  the  trick 
when  he  first  spied  you.  And  say,  cap,  that 
kid  wasn't  Tom  Goff's  son  any  more  than  I  am 
myself  !  He  was  young  Jeff  Throop,  the  son  of 
the  leader  of  the  gang  !  But  we  all  felt  so 
cheap  at  being  taken  in  by  such  a  little  fellow 
that  when  we  got  the  truth  of  it  we  let  him  go. 
'Twouldn't  sound  well  in  court  to  hear  him 
telling  how  easy  we'd  been.  Fll  tell  you  the 
whole  story  in  a  couple  of  days " 

But  I  had  suddenly  lost  all  interest  in  his 
narrative,  and  lay  back  on  my  pillow  with  my 
eyes  closed. 

To  think  of  the  sympathy  I  had  wasted  on 
the  red-headed  little  scamp  !  And  easy  !  No 
one  had  been  so  easy  as  I  had  ! 


I    LAY    BACK   ON    MY    1'Il.l.OW    WITH    MY    EVES   CLOSED. 


The  Festival  of  Up-Helly-A  in  Shetland. 

r>\    AniKki    Harris. 

Illustrations  from  Photographs  by  R.   II.   Ramsay,   Ler,  V.B. 

The  celebration  of  Yule-tide  in  Shetland  closes,  at   the  end  of  January,  with  the  festival  of  Up-Helly 
At    Lerwick    a   grand   torchlight    procession    is    held,    in    which    march    squads    of   masked    men,    after 
which  a  bonfire  takes  place,  and  house-to-house  visiting  by  the  masqueraders. 


E  need  go  no  farther  south  of  the 
Antic  Circle  than  Shetland  to  find 
that  the  Northerner  is  the  equal  of 
the  Southron  in  merry-making.  His 
opportunities,  it  is  true,  for  some 
reason  or  other,  seem  fewer,  but  what  he 
lacks  in  this  respect  he  makes  up  in  super- 
abundance of  spirit,  and  his  day  of  rejoicing, 
when  it  comes,  is  full  of  human  warmth.  The 
zero-point,  if  it  happens  to  be  frigid  weather, 
does  not  cool  his  ardour,  but  increases  it.  He 
makes  his  holiday  a  roaring,  tearing  festival, 
always  with  due  regard  to  propriety  —  which 
many  a  sportive  Southerner  might  envy  or 
imitate — and  ever  with  the  thought  in  mind 
that  a  like  opportunity  for  enjoyment  may  not 
come  for  one  whole  long  year. 

The  festive  season  of  the  Shetlander  is  Christ- 


aneestry.     Some  say  that  the  name  b  like- 

ness to  "up-holy-day,"  or  the  day  when  holid 
are  "up,"  but  the  more  probable  meaning  r< 
to  the  sacred   season   known  as  "Helly"  and 
their  completion. 

Suffice  it  here  to  say  that   the  spirit  of  Up 
Helly-A  finds  its  most  hilarious  expression   in 
Lerwick,   where,  towards  the   end  of  January, 
which    is    the    end    of   Yule    in    the    old-time 
calendar,  still  observed  in  Shetland,  the  town  is 
lit    up  by  a    grand   and   welcome   light.      When 
little  children  should  be  in  bed   and  older  ones 
should  be  thinking  of  it,  the  market  squan 
this  fine  old  town  is  crowded  with  people  stand 
ing  almost  in  darkness,  save  for  the  flare  of  an 
occasional  lamplight— all  waiting  patiently  I 
given  signal.     The  spectators  group  themselves 
in  hundreds  around  a  small  multitude  of  maskers, 


From  a] 


:  ■  i 


SCIIi'  MERRY   I' 


mas, 


or,  as  he   loves   to   call    it.  Yule  ;  and    the 


grand  day  of  his  rejoicing  is  that  which  marks 
the  end  of  the  holidays,  the  day  of  Up-Helly-A, 
four-and-twenty  days  after  the  beginning  of  Yule. 
What  this  curious  word  really  means  may  well 
puzzle  the  average  reader.  He  must  needs 
know  a  little  of  the  Scandinavian  language  and 
the  customs  of  the  Shetlanders,  who  still  retain 
many  words  and  practices  of  their  Scandinavian 


each  dressed  in  some  curious  fashion,  tl 
df  weeks  of  thought,  and  eai  h  ivii 
torch    in   his   hand. 

I  hese  merry  makers  of  ;; 
as   "Guizers,"  which   word 
•■  Guizard,"  or  mask*  r,  a   ■ 
control. of  a  worthy  chief,  whos 
There  are,  at  different  times,  ft 
hundred,  divided  ; 


374 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


From  a] 


ANOTHER    GKUUH,    URESSEU    AS   SISTERS    OK    MKKCV. 


each  squad  being  clothed  to  represent  some 
particular  object  or  thing — which  is  about  as 
near,  in  explanation,  as  one  can  get  to  include 
the  great  variety  of  costume  on  this  festive  occa- 
sion. At  this  time  of  night— for  the  gathering 
begins  to  take  place  about  seven  o'clock— it  is 


almost  impos- 
sible to  tell  who 
is  who,  which,  of 
course,  tends 
only  to  increase 
the  fun.  It  may 
well  be  imagined 
that  while  the 
"Guizers"  are 
assembling  from 
all  parts  of  the 
town,  waiting  for 
the  signal  already 
mentioned,  they 
are  the  sport,  as 
well  as  admira- 
tion, of  the  at- 
tendant crowd, 
sometimes  num- 
bering two  thou- 
sand strong. 

In  the  centre 
of  the  square,  at 
the  market  cross, 
just  before  the 
procession 
begins,  stands  a  Viking  ship,  with  the  familiar 
dragon  head  and  a  Scandinavian  flag  upon  its 
mast.  This  galley  is  the  great  feature  of 
the  present  festival  and  many  that  have  gone 
before,  but  during  recent  years  other  ships 
have     been     contributed    to     the     procession, 


yi'nui 


THE    FESTIVAL    OF    UP-HELLY-A    IN    SHETLAND. 


375 


1"HE    "ACE   UK   CLUBb.' 


A   PARTY    OF    ''GUIZliKs"    IN    FANCY    DKlibS. 

From  a  Photo. 


thus  adding  to  its 
ago,  for  instance, 
buted  by  lads  at 
St.  Magnus  Street, 
as  well  as  a  stout- 
built     and     fully- 
rigged    schooner 
made  by  dock 
workers    specially 
for   the   occasion. 
The  galleys,   of 
course,   are   'on 
wheels,    for    they 
are   about   to    be 
dragged      around 
the  town,  each 
galley  followed  by 
a    special     squad 
of     "Guizers," 
keeping     step    to 
the    music    of 
fiddlers  seated  or 
standing    on    the 
preceding  car. 

The  "  Guizers," 
according  to  mani- 
festoes conspicu- 
ously displayed 
throughout   the 


nautical  interest.     Two  years 
a  second   galley  was  contri- 


town,  are  bidden    to  assemble   at   the 
South   Esplanade  at   half -past    se\ 
o'clock,  having  d   beforehand  that 

order,  punctuality,  and  discipline  shall 
be   rigorously  obeyed.     Hence,  uni 
many  a  celebration   in   the   South,   the 
procession    comes    off  to   time.       It  is, 
moreover,  distinctly  understood  that  no 
torches  shall  be  lit  until  eight  o'clock, 
at  which  time  the  signal  is  given  by  the 
worthy  chief   "  Guizer,"   who,   we  may 
add  in  passing,  was  last  year  attired  as 
Hamlet  in  a  striking  velvet  dr<  ss.   Albeit 
the  maskers  are  forbidden  to  light  up, 
there  is  yet  a  sop  thrown  to  the  croud 
in   darkness  a  few  minutes  before  the 
procession  starts,  in  the  shape  of  blue 
and    red    lights    from   the    top    of    the 
market   cross,    which,    reflecting    th 
selves    upon    the   faces   of   the   crowd 
and  neighbouring  buildings,  give  a  lively 
colour  to  the  gay  proceedings. 
'     The  lighting  of  the  torches,  done  in 
a  moment  at   the  word    of   command, 
turns  the  whole  square  into  a  blaze  of 
brilliance,    and   in  a   few  seconds   the 
whole  procession  is  in  motion,  accom- 
panied by  a  drum  and  fiddles  in  the 
procession     itself,     and      by     vigorous 
cheers  and    "  hoochs "  from   the   s] 
tators.       Headed    by   the   Viking    galley,    with 
one  of  the  other   ships   bringing    up  the    rear, 


From  a) 


THE   STARS   OF   NIGHT,    .MPERSON ATED    BY   A   GROVP   OF    HI 


376 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


the  procession  proceeds  picturesquely  along 
a  set  route,  through  the  narrow  ways  of  the 
old  town,  and  back  to  its  starting-point,  fol- 
lowed always  by  men,  women,  and  children 
in  a  state  of  enthusiasm  which  befits  the 
end  of  Yule.  The  torches,  with  few  excep- 
tions, burn  through  the  entire  distance, 
although  at  the  Hillhead  they  sometimes  meet 
with  a  real  Shetland  wind,  which  works  havoc 
among  the  lights. 

The  squads  are  conspicuous  both  for  origin- 
ality of  design  and  effective  display.  Unable, 
since  it  takes  place  at  night,  to  give,   by   means 


a  fine  group  of  seven,  dressed  with  great  neat- 
ness and  propriety,  who  took  part  in  the 
festival  of  1904,  are  in  reality  Brothers  of 
Mercy,  with  bodies  well  disguised,  selected, 
perhaps,  for  a  set  purpose  because  of  their 
benignant  mien. 

Many  of  the  squads  who  take  part  in  the 
Lerwick  procession  are  contributed  by  the 
Royal  Naval  Reserve,  which,  at  this  season  of 
the  year,  is  at  drill  in  winter  quarters  at 
Lerwick,  and  were  it  not  for  their  efforts  in 
the  past  to  keep  alive  the  spirit  of  Yule,  the 
festival  of  Up-Helly-A    might   long    ago    have 


From  a] 


A   GROUP   OF    MERRYMAKERS,    MASQUERADING    AS    DUTCH    FISHEKMEN 


of  photographs,  a  correct  idea  of  the  procession, 
we  have  selected  for  illustration,  from  the  pro- 
cessions of  the  last  few  years,  some  of  the 
squads  which  have  attracted  most  attention  for 
artistic  design.  It  will  not  be  forgotten  that  the 
costumes  are  always  worn  by  men,  although  in 
some  of  the  pictures  they  seem  to  be  worn  by 
women.  Men  only  take  part  in  the  festival 
of  Up-Helly-A.  Hence  the  frisky  party  of 
schoolgirls  dancing  round  a  modest  Tar  and 
an  apparently  aged  lady,  in  one  of  our  illustra- 
tions, is,  in  reality,  a  group  of  merry  "  Guizers." 
Clothed  in  pinafores  and  sun-bonnets,  these 
men  are  trying  to  deceive  people  into  the 
belief  that  they  are  girls  of  ten,  accompanied 
by  a  nurse  or  chaperon,  but  they  are  sadly 
betrayed  by  their  moustaches,  which  they  seem 
at  no  pains  to  hide.    Again,  the  Sisters  of  Mercy, 


passed   into  oblivion.     They  are  the  ones 
put  life  and  soul  into  the  proceedings. 

Three  years  ago  one  of  the  best  features  in 
the  procession  was  a  group  representing  Father 
Neptune  and  his  attendants,  impersonated  by 
the  Naval  Reserves.  This  group  was  borne 
on  a  car,  the  old  Lord  of  the  Sea,  with  flowing 
white  beard,  trident  in  hand,  and  attendants 
beside  him,  standing  upon  a  foundation  of 
seaweed,  strewn  about  to  suggest  the  ocean's 
bed.  More  artistic,  however,  and  more  as  if  the 
occasion  were  a  fancy-dress  ball,  another  party 
of  "  Guizers  "  was  dressed  to  represent  the  ace 
of  clubs,  each  with  an  enormous  club  upon  his 
white  tunic  and  another  on  the  front  of  his  cap. 
With  them,  marching  in  the  procession,  were  a 
number  of  Japanese  women — who  were  really 
not  women  from  Japan — clothed  in  the  costume 


who 


THE    FESTIVAL    OF    UT-HELLY-A     IN     SHETLAND. 


577 


of  Mikadoland  ;  a  number  of  Arabs  in  Bedouin 
guise,  a  band  of  Cavaliers  in  knee-breeches  and 
fine  ruffles,  and  a  goodly  proportion  of  clowns. 
There  was  also  a  proper  squad  dressed  entirely 
in  black,  wearing  small  college  caps  mounted 
with  silver  emblems,  their  body  garments, 
hanging  loosely  from  their  shoulders,  adorned 
with  moons  and  stars,  the  crescent  and  star 
making  an  effective  ornament  to  their  heads. 
This  group,  which  represented  "  Night,"  was  a 
distinct  success,  and  reflected  real  credit  upon 
the  designer  and  the  men  who  embodied  his 
pretty  thought. 

Always  are  to  be  seen  Dutchmen  in  Lerwick 
at  Up-Helly-A,  either  in  the  flesh,  for  they  come 
frequently  to  Lerwick  as  a  port  of  trade,  or  in 
the  disguise  of  the  "  Guizer,''  for  the  men  of 
Holland  are  favourite  subjects  for  fancy  dress. 
Lerwick  has  always  had  a  warm  spot  in  her 
heart  for  the  Netherlands,  and  in  her  Town 
Hall  may  be  seen  an  oval  medallion  window 
given  by  the  Burgomaster  and  Magistrates  of 
Amsterdam  in  commemoration  of  the  long 
connection  between  Holland  and  Shetland. 
What  more  popular,  then,  than  the  yearly 
appearance  of  Dutchmen  in  clogs  and  hol- 
land  blouses,  long  pipes  and  seafaring  hats, 
and  often  with  schnapps  and  sweetjecooks  about 
them,  to  distinguish  them  distinctly  from  other 
masqueraders? 

After  the  procession  has  returned  to  the  Espla- 


nade the  galleys  are  plac<  d  n  ma 

circle  formed  by  the  "  I  ',m  th  their  lighted 

torches,    and    when    th 
given    the    torches   an-    thrown,    wil 
energy,  upon  thi  a  bled  shi 

instantaneously   into  a   mass  of  seething  flame. 
A  writer  in   the  Shetland  News  di  .  in  the 

following  words,  the  exciting  scene  .a  the  burn- 
ing of  the  ships  : — 

"The  galleys  burned  and  crackled  and  his 
the  flames  circled  and  twisted  and  shot  forth  up 
and  down;  the   smoke,   lurid  with  spar! 
and  flew  in  such  a  manner  as  speedily  s<  atti 
those  on  the  lee  side.     And  then  one  could 
the  bulwarks  giving  up,   devoured    by  the    I 
Fiend;   then    the   stems,    then    the    body,  and 
finally  nothing  but  a  mass  of  flames  could   be 
distinguished.       The    schooner    held    out    well. 
Her  masts  were  the  last  to  succumb,   hut   she 
had  to  yield  to  the  all-devouring   flames.     The 
bonfire  was  a  fitting  close  to  the  finest  procession 
ever  held  at  Lerwick." 

This  bonfire,  round  which  small   boys  ling 
to  see  that  no  shred  of  the  ships  remains  un 
consumed,  is  not  the  last  incident  in  the  i 
bration.     That   takes  the  form  of  feasting,  and 
— a   distinct   survival  of  an   old-time  custom 
a  series  of  house-to-house  visits  by  the  "( ruizi 
who,  popular   fellows   that   they  are,   are  everj 
where  received  with  welcome  arms  and  off 
the  best  of  cheer. 


J-  torn  a  | 


A    MERKV    SQUAD    OF    SHAM    CONVICTS. 


Vol.  xiv.— 48. 


-rs^7 


%€  Paid  of 

the  Rhinoceroses 

■y- , , ~-  ■  .        mm  m 


Couni  Stanislaus  Sehemhecfc 


f%/ff>fdrr/<ii? 


An  out-of-the-way  adventure  which  befell  a  party  of  big-game  hunters  in  East  Africa.  On  their  way 
to  the  river  a  herd  of  rhinoceroses  found  their  route  blocked  by  the  author's  camp,  whereupon 
they  attacked  it.     Count  Schembeck  describes  what  happened  when  the  infuriated  monsters  charged 

down  upon  his  party. 

Y  love  of  big-game  shooting 

has  led  me  to  all  parts  of 

the   world   in   search   of  it, 

amongst  other  places  to  the 

country  around  the  Waso 
Nyiro  River,  in  East  Africa,  where 
rhinoceroses  abound.  After  a  long 
march  through  a  more  than  desolate 
country,  inhabitated  by  superstitious 
natives  who  tell  blood-curdling  stories 
about  witches,  vampires,  and  such-like 
pleasant  folk,  we  camped  one  evening 
on  a  slope  near  some  trees. 

Two  friends  of  mine  who  had  accom- 
panied me  on  my  race  round  the  Dark 
Continent — Monsieurde  Rubempre  and 
Bevis  O'Sullivan,  both  of  them  splendid 
sportsmen — shared  one  smail  fire  with 
me,  while  our  carriers  and  other  attend- 
ants made  merry  a  little  distance  away. 
I  was  sleeping  the  sleep  of  the  just 
after  a  meal  off  a  delicious  rhinoceros 
tongue  when  I  was  suddenly  awakened 
by  a  hideous  yell.  Sitting  up,  I  saw  De 
Rubempre  and  O'Sullivan  come  dashing 
along  in  very  scanty  attire,  running  as  if 
they  were  competing  for  a  championship. 
As  they  passed  me  they  shouted  some- 
thing— what,  I  could  not  gather.  As- 
tounded, 1  gazed  round  in  a  dazed,  halt-  "  i  SAW  de  hubkmhk^  and  osullivan  come  washim.  along," 


THE    RAID    OF    THK     RHINOCEROS 


$79 


sleepy  fashion,  and  presently  saw  my  flying  friends 
take  refuge  behind  the  sycamore  trees  which 
shaded  the  camp.  Looking  in  the  opposite  direc- 
tion, I  was  horrified  to  see  a  huge  rhinoceros 
moving  briskly  about  at  the  other  end  of  the 
camp.  Needless  to  say,  I  hurriedly  got  out  of 
bed.  I  was  too  sleepy  and  dazed  to  think  of 
weapons,  and  was  about  to  join  my  friends 
among  the  trees  when  the  rhinoceros,  with  an 
odd  little  jump,  disappeared  in  the  bushes, 
leaving  one  of  our  fires  stamped  out  and  some 
of  the  packs  knocked  as  flat  as  pancakes. 

The  excitement  gradually  subsided  after  the 
departure  of  the  huge  animal,  and  once  more 
slumber  fell  upon  the  camp.  But  it  was  appar- 
ently decreed  that  our  peace  was  to  be  disturbed 
continually  during  that  night,  for  I  had  just  gone 
to  sleep  again  and  was  dreaming  of  shooting 
rhinoceroses  with  one  shot  each,  like  pheasants, 
when  I  heard  my  name  pronounced  in  a  ghostly 
whisper.  Opening  my  eyes,  I  saw  De  Rubempre 
bending  over  me. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  "  I  asked,  sleepily. 

"  Look,  man  !  "  he  murmured,  excitedly;  "the 
rhinoceros  is  returning  with  his  whole  family  ! " 


I    discovered,    however,    that    in    th<  live 

light  it  was  impossible  to  aim  with  any  certainty. 

Moreover,   I   reflected   that    it    once    th 
brutes  became  infuriated  and  charged  down  on 
the   camp,    the    Zulu    saying  i    shall 

stamped   flat,"  would  not  only  be  figurati\ 
but  literally,  exemplified. 

I  don't  think    I  have  ever  been  so  un 
at  that  moment,  for  I   felt  helpless   before  this 
mighty  avalanche  of  flesh  and  bone,  which  the 
least   accident    might    send    rolling    irresistibly 
towards    us.       De    Rubempre    saw   the    dan. 
too  ;   and  although  he  has  proved   his   brai 
over  and  over  again,   he  paled,   and  anxiously 
looked   at   the  trees.      O'Sullivan  only,  with   his 
infectious  Irish  gaiety,  did  not  for  a  minute  think 
of  the  danger. 

Presently  we  detected  a  movement  amon 
the  herd;  the  huge  brutes  seemed  to  be  lining 
up  in  some  sort  of  order. 

"  Looks  as  if  they  were  going  to  reproduce  the 
charge  of  Balaclava  !  "  observed  the  irrepressible 
O'Sullivan,  and  I  was  inclined  to  agr  :e  with  him. 

For  half  an  hour  the  rhinoceroses  came  no 
nearer,  although  they  moved  round  and  round 


"   THE    PONDEROUS    ANIMALS    WERE    CHARGING    OOWN     I  II 


"  Oh,  bother  the  rhinoceros  !  "  I  said,  turning 
over  lazily ;  but  the  Frenchman  shook  me  until 
I  sat  up— with  very  bad  grace.  Not  far  off, 
clearly  visible  in  the  bright  moonlight,  I  beheld 
a  whole  herd  of  rhinoceroses,  apparently  examin- 
ing the  camp.  Their  looks  did  not  please  me, 
and,  rising  to  my  feet,  I  snatched  up  my  gun. 


us  in  clumsy  circles.     Tin 
weird— those  hulking  grey  bodies 
the  darkness  all  about  us. 

Suddenly  there  was.  a  shriek  of  '  "  from 

our  natives,  and  with  one  accord 
the  trees.     The  ponderous  animals  were  charging 
down  towards  the  camp  ! 


38o 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


"  Here  come  the  gallant  six  hundred  !  " 
observed  O'Sullivan,  and  hurriedly  swung 
himself  into  a  tree.  The  Frenchman  and  I 
also  clambered  up  and  got  our  heavy  guns 
ready. 

O'Sullivan  war.  literally  bubbling  over  with 
gaiety,  in  spite  of  the  seriousness  of  the  situation. 

"  Hooroo  I "  he  yelled,  as  the  great  brutes 
came  tearing  through  the  brushwood,  leaving  a 
clear  space  behind  them.  "  Here  come  the 
road-makers  ! " 

"  And  here  goes  the  grave-maker,"  said  De 
Rubempre,  coolly  taking  aim,  with  his  rifle  rest- 
ing on  a  branch.  On  came  the  monsters  at  a 
lumbering  gallop.  A  shot  rang  out  and  down 
went  a  heavy  mass,  raising  a  thick  cloud  of 
grey  dust  and  shaking  the  ground. 

"  Bravo  !  Good  shot  !  "  shouted  O'Sullivan. 
"  Your  turn,  Schembeck." 

I  had  been  aiming  already,  and  when  he  spoke 
I  pressed  the  trigger,  but  as  I  fired  the  brute  I 
was  aiming  at  stumbled  over  a  fallen  trunk  and 
came  down  on  its  knees,  so  that  my  bullet  only 
buried  itself  in  the  broad  back. 

"  Bad  luck  !  "  cried  Bevis.  "  My  turn  now. 
Here's  for  the  leader  !  " 

The  Irishman's  bullet  brought  down  a  giant 
animal,  which  lay  on  the  ground  struggling, 
kicking,  and  making  an  awful  uproar.  The 
scene  was  now  a  veritable 
pandemonium.  Stamp- 
ing rhinoceroses,  scream- 
ing natives  in  trees,  Bevis 
shouting  out  mad  jokes, 
and  the  rapid  reports  of 
the  rifles  combined  to  pro- 
duce a  bewildering  up- 
roar. Clouds  had  by  this 
time  hidden  the  moon, 
and  we  could  hardly  see 
to  shoot.  The  intruding 
animals  were  now  in 
among  the  camp  -  fires, 
and  in  the  twinkling  of 
an  eye  the  flames  to  the 
last  ember  were  trodden 
out.  Dimly  we  could  see 
our  beds  being  stamped 
under  foot  and  scattered, 
and  the  packs  hurled  this 
way  and  that.  Then  for 
a  few  minutes  we  fired  a 
little  more  surely,  for  the 
moon  showed  itself  again, 
and  five  dead  animals 
soon  lay  stiff  on  the 
ground,  while  not  a  few 
others  were  badly 
wounded. 


Having  vented  their  rage  on  inanimate  things, 
the  great  brutes  began  to  think  of  the  men. 

One  of  the  natives,  paralyzed  with  fear,  had 
been  unable  to  climb  a  tree,  and  was  now 
staring  at  the  rhinoceroses  over  the  top  of  a  thick 
prickly  bush.  Our  attention  was  drawn  to  the 
man  for  the  first  time  by  one  of  the  animals 
stopping  short  and  sniffing  round.  It  did  not 
see  the  man,  but  scented  him,  and  with  a  bellow 
of  fury  it  went  for  the  bush  like  a  hurricane. 

We  yelled  out  to  the  native  to  save  himself, 
and,  roused  from  his  stupor,  he  sprang  to  his 
feet  and  raced  away,  with  the  animal  after  him. 
I  slipped  a  little  farther  down  the  tree  and  called 
to  him,  whereupon  he  swerved  rapidly  from  his 
course  and  came  towards  me,  while  the  leviathan 
stopped  short,  ploughing  up  the  ground  with  its 
heavy  feet.  Finally  it  turned,  for  all  the  world 
like  a  clumsy  mastiff  puppy,  and  resumed  the 
chase. 

The  screaming  native  ran  towards  my  tree, 
and  I  held  out  my  hand  and  dragged  him  up, 
telling  him   to   climb    up   higher.       He  did   not 


I    HELD   OUT    MY    HAND. 


THE    RAID    OF    THE    RHINOCEROS-. 


38i 


need  to  be  told  twice,  and  went  up  as  high  as 
he  could.  Luckily  for  him,  as  the  sequel  will 
show,  it  was  not  a  tall  tree. 

The  great  animal,  with  ponderous  tread,  came 
on  after  him.  Arrived  at  the  foot  of  the  tree, 
it  stood  still,  apparently  astonished  at  the  native's 
disappearance,  and  then  aimed  a  vicious  blow 
at  the  tree-trunk  with  its  sharp  horn.  I  did 
not  intend  to  let  it  demolish  my  perch  so 
easily,  so  I  slipped  down  to  the  bottom  branch 
and,  leaning  forward,  held  my  rifle  point- 
blank  at  its  ear  and  pressed  the 
trigger.  Such  a  shot  is  fatal,  and 
I  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  it 
waver,  take  a.  few  steps,  and  then 
fall  with  a  crash,  its  whole  weight 
resting  against  the  tree,  which  bent 
like  a  cane.  I  clutched  wildly  at 
the  branch  to  prevent  myself  fall- 
ing, and  nearly  dropped  my  rifle, 
while  a  crashing,  rending  noise, 
followed  by  a  shriek  from  above, 
told  that  someone  had  been  dis- 
lodged by  the  shock.  Branch  after 
branch  was  snapped  by  the  falling 
of  some  heavy  body,  until  finally 
it  hit  the  stronger  boughs  and 
bounced  off  to  the  ground.  I 
realized  then  that  the  native  in  his 
terror  had  climbed  too  high  up, 
where  the  branches  could  hardly 
bear  him,  and  the  sudden  jerk  had 
hurled  him  down. 

For  a  minute  I  thought  another 
rhinoceros  would  come  and  crush  him  before 
he  could  get  up  again,  but  to  my  astonishment 
he  rose  to  his  feet  and  limped  away  at  a  good 
rate  into  the  bushes.  Evidently  he  did  not 
intend  to  trust  to  tree-tops  again. 

For  a  short  while  longer  the  rhinoceroses 
wandered  about  the  camp,  and  then  their 
interest  shifted  to  our  waggon,  which  they 
surrounded  with  the  evident  intention  of  upset- 
ting it.  They  had  not  sufficient  sense,  however, 
to  realize  that  if  they  pushed  on  both  sides  at 
once  it  would  not  go  down,  so  they  did  not 
succeed  in  overturning  it.  All  this  time  we 
fired  at  intervals  into  the  mass  of  animals, 
meanwhile  speculating  among  ourselves  as  to 
why  such  a  large  number  of  rhinoceroses  had 
banded  themselves  together. 

Presently,  to  our  great  relief,  they  tired  of 
their  sport  and  moved  on  farther  into  the 
wilderness.       De    Rubempre    and     O'Sullivan 


THE      AUTHOK,      COUNT      STANISLAUS 
SCHEMBECK. 

From    a    Photo. 


followed  them  for  some  distance  to  see  what 
they  would  do  next,  while  I  ord<  1 
bullied  the  frightened  natives  into  1 
from    their    lofty   roosting -places,    when 
much  resembled  a  flock  of  crows. 

One  by  one  they  came  down  and  gathered 
round  me,  shivering  with  cold  and  terror,  and 
casting  apprehensive  glances  in  the  direction 
whence  the  marauding  animals  had  disappeai 

After  a  time,   however,    I    induced   them   to 
relight  the  fires,  and  then  a  few  went  to  fetch  the 
waggon  oxen.     These  by   a  lu< 
chance  had  been  pickete  1  at  a  1 
tance  in  charge  of  five  mi  n,   be 
cause  of  the  more  plentiful  pasture 
there.      The  damage  to  our  camp 
was  not  so  great  as  it  might  have 
been,  although  the  low  tents  under 
which  we  had  been  sleeping,  our 
beds,  and  all  the  cooking  utensils 
left  outside  the  waggons,  besid 
few    packs    thrown    down    by   the 
carriers,  had  been  so  trampled  out 
of   shape    that    it    took   a    certain 
amount  of  divination  and  a  vivid 
imagination   to   guess   what    they 
were. 

When  De  Rubempre  and  O'Sulli 
van  came    in    they    reported 
they   had    followed    the    herd    for 
some    distance.     The    animals 
seemed    to   form   a   fairly  regular 
phalanx,   following   a   given    road 
They  had  gone  down  to  the  river, 
drunk  and  bathed,  and  then  crossed  by  a  ford  and 
disappeared  at  a  rapid  pace  on  the  other  side. 

Having  hauled  the  waggons  to  a  fresh  camping 
place — for  the  old  one  was  trampled  into  mud 
by  the  huge  feet— we  lit  great  fires  and  got  to 
sleep  at  last,  with  our  bones  aching  from  the 
nocturnal  gymnastics  we  had  been  compelled  to 
indulge  in. 

Next  morning  we  discovered  a  sort  of  path 
leading  through   the  country   which  we  had  nol 
hitherto   noticed   because  of  the  spring   growth 
covering  the  roughly-made  way,   trampled   out 
by  the  feet  of  many  wild  animals  during  count- 
less ages.     It  was   apparently  an   animal    trail 
leading  to  the  river.     That  was  as  much  of  the 
secret  of  the  huge  beasts  as  we   could  fathom. 
We  had  camped  across  their  pathw 
their     way    to    the     water,    and    they     natui 
resented  our  conduct. 
And  so  ended  our  ad\ 


A    Fairyland   of  France. 


By  C.  N.   Williamson. 

A  description  of  an   automobile  tour  through  one  of  the   most   beautiful   and    unknown    districts    of 

Europe — a    region    into    which    few    travellers    penetrate    and    where    railways    do    not    exist.       Mr. 

Williamson   illustrates  his  article  with  some  striking  photographs. 


N  the  heart  of  France,  the  most 
civilized  of  European  lands,  there  is 
a  region  which  twenty  years  ago 
was  unsurveyed — a  blank  upon  the 
maps  of  the  War  Office.  Even  to- 
day few  strangers  penetrate  this  veiled  country. 
Railways  skirt  its  borders,  but  none  pass  through 
it.  The  traveller  who  does  not  go  on  foot  must 
be  content  with  the  three-horsed  yellow 
diligence,  which  has  here  one  of  its  last  strong- 
holds in  Europe — a  picturesque,  clumsy  survival 
which  carries  the  imagination  back  to  the  days 
before  the  shriek  of  the  railway  whistle  was 
heard  in  the  mountains.  In  many  districts  even 
there  are  no  diligences,  and  there  the  only 
means  of  communication  is  the  post-cart  of  the 
courrier,  who  can  put  at  the  service  of  travellers 
one  or  two  places  in  his  ancient  chaise.  Within 
this  wild  country  there  are  no  towns — only 
villages  buried  deep  in  the  folds  of  the  moun- 
tains or  clinging  like  birds'  nests  to  the  faces  of 
frowning  precipices.  There  is  no  shelter  for 
the  wanderer  save  the  auberge,  where  the  great 
kitchen  is  the  general  meeting-place  for  the 
neighbourhood.  Yet  this  unknown  and 
neglected  region,  which  lies  in  the  poorest 
department  of  France,  is  one  of  the  most 
interesting  countries  in  Europe.  It  has  remark- 
able natural  beauty,  and  every  mile  offers  a 
new  and  delightful  surprise ;  it  contains  vast 
deserts  intersected  by  river  gorges,  which  in  their 
depth  and  grandeur  can  be  compared  only  with 
the  Canyon  of  the  Colorado  ;  it  was  the  scene  of 
one  of  the  most  terrible  wars  ever  fought  upon 
the  soil  of  France  ;  above  all,  it  still  has  the 
charm  of  the  primitive  and  the  unspoiled. 

It  is  not  surprising  that  this  part  of  France 
should  have  been  neglected.  The  Americans 
and  the  English  travel  little  in  France  except 
along  certain  beaten  lines,  and  the  region  of 
which   I  write    lies    away  from   all  main  roads. 


It  is  in  the  right  angle  made  by  the  two  great 
railways  running  north  and  south  from  Dijon  to 
Marseilles,  and  west  and  east  from  Bayonne  to 
Nimes.  Across  this  wide  territory  of  Languedoc 
bends  from  north-east  to  south-west  the  sinuous 
line  of  the  Cevennes,  the  watershed  between 
the  Atlantic  and  the  Mediterranean.  Leaning 
against  the  western  flanks  of  this  high  and  sterile 
range  are  the  great  deserts  of  the  Causses,  lying 
for  the  most  part  in  the  department  of  Lozere, 
but  spreading  to  the  adjoining  departments  of 
Lot,  Aveyron,  Gard,  and  Herault,  and  of  extra- 
ordinary interest  to  the  geologist  as  well  as  the 
lover  of  beauty.  It  consists  of  a  series  of  vast 
high  steppes  of  chalk,  cut  off  one  from  another 
by  tremendous  defiles,  in  which  at  a  great  depth 
flow  rapid  rivers.  The  three  largest  of  these 
table-lands  of  chalk,  reckoning  from  north  to 
south,  are  the  Causse  Sauveterre,  the  Causse 
Mejean,  and  the  Causse  Noir  ("Causse"  is 
from  calx — chalk) ;  and  round  them  race  the 
rivers  Lot,  Tarn,  Jonte,  and  Dourbie.  On  the 
west  they  are  flanked  by  the  proud  range  of  the 
Cevennes  parting  the  Causses  from  the  valley  of 
the  Rhone  ;  on  the  east  they  adjoin  the  strange 
volcanic  region  of  Auvergne  ;  and  the  rivers  of 
the  Causses  flow  to  the  Atlantic  by  way  either 
of  the  Garonne  or  the  Loire. 

The  vast  uplands  of  the  Causses  are  little 
more  than  deserts.  Once  they  were  covered 
with  rich  forests ;  but,  either  by  fire  or  by 
wholesale  cuttings  at  the  time  of  the  Revolution, 
the  trees  have  almost  disappeared.  These 
melancholy  wastes  sustain  a  few  miserable 
sheep,  a  few  wind-tortured  woods  ;  and  support 
here  and  there  a  mean  village  of  grey  stone,  or 
a  dilapidated  farm  guarded  by  ferocious  dogs. 
From  elevated  points  the  wide  and  impressive 
wildernesses  may  be  seen  stretching  far  away  to 
a  distant  horizon.  Many  of  the  higher  swellings 
of  the   desert  bear  ancient  dolmens    that    date 


A    FAIRYLAND    OF    FRANCE. 


prom  a\ 


from  Druid  days  and  whisper  horrid  stones  of 
blood  and  fear.  Here  and  there  in  unexpected 
and  dangerous  places  yawn  narrow  and  sombre 
openings  in  the  ground.  These  avens  are  of 
incredible  depth.  Some  are  fringed  with  shrubs, 
like  hairy  mouths ;  others  are  gashed  in  the 
naked  rock.  A  boulder  toppled  into  them  will 
long  send  up  sullen  reverberations  as  it  crashes 
from  side  to  side  of  the  formidable  abyss.  It  is 
a  region  of  amazing  contrasts.  In  summer  the 
Causses  glare  with  a  fierce  heat ;  in  winter  they 
are  scourged  by  storms,  and  lie  buried  for  months 
beneath  deep  snow.  The  people  who  inhabit 
these  sterile  wildernesses  are  of  a  type  unknown  in 
other  parts  of  France.  They  have  long  heads 
and  low  foreheads  ;  they  use  a  patois  of  their 
own  and  live  a  life  apart.  Speak  to  them 
slowly  in  Spanish  and  they  will  understand  you  : 
sure  proof  of  their  Iberian  descent. 

The  rainfall  on  the  plateaux  is  twice  that  of 
Paris;  yet  the  surface  of  the  steppes  retains  no 
part  of  this  beneficent  flood.  The  chalky 
ground  is  like  a  sieve,  not  like  a  sponge ;  the 
water  falls  through  it,  to  collect  far  down  in  sub- 
terranean lakes  and  rushing  rivers.  Hence  the 
startling  contrasts  of  which  I  have  spoken  ;  for 
while  the  surface  of  the  Causses  is  naked, 
unhomely,  and  stony,  the  river  valleys  that  ring 
them  are  paradises  of  verdure,  in  whose  warm 
and  scented  air  grow  the  chestnut  and  the  vine, 
the  myrtle  and  the  mulberry,  the  peach  and  the 
almond.      The  change   from  the  plain   to  the 


valley  is  sudden  and  surprising.  It  is  like 
going  in  a  few  strides  from  Russia  to  Italy. 
One  walks  on  the  sad  and  inhospitable 
Causses  shivering,  it  may  be,  in  the  wild 
blasts  of  a  curdling  easterly  wind,  until  one 
comes  to  the  lip  of  a  tremendous  fissure. 
Three  thousand  feet  below,  a  green,  clear  river, 
like  transparent  malachite,  hurries  through  a 
belt  of  verdure.  Terrace  upon  terrace  rise  the 
vine  and  the  chestnut,  giving  place  upon  the 
upper  shelves  of  the  channelled  and  sculptured 
precipices  to  the  birch,  the  fir,  and  the  pine. 
The  first  steps  upon  the  winding  path  down  the 
rocky  wall,  and  one  is  in  a  different  atmosphere. 
The  biting  wind  becomes  a  warm  and  gentle  air  ; 
in  place  of  sterility  and  sadness  there  are  abund- 
ance and  gaiety  ;  grapes  cluster  on  pergolas 
in  Italy  ;  the  peach  and  the  almond  ripen  out  of 
doors.  There  is  nothing  like  it  anvwh 
in  France \  perhaps  nowhere  else  in  Fur' 

All  this  wide  district  is  worth  exploration.     A 
long  summer  might  joyously  be  spent  in  foil 
ing  up  to  their   sources   in    the  Cevennes   the 
many    beautiful    rivers    that    flow    through 
Causses  and  in  traversing  these  curious 
The  hasty  traveller,  howe>  t  in  a 

days   something   more    than    a    glim|  the 

country.     Of  all  the  rivers  ol  rarn 

is  the  most  exquisite.     Happily  no  railway  runs 
very  near  the  Tarn,  but  the  fine  of  the 

river  can    be   reached    by  driving   either   from 
Mende   or    Banassac-la-Canourgue,    at  both  of 


3^4 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


which  places  are  railway  stations.  It  seemed 
to  me  more  delightful  to  approach  "the  magic 
district  of  the  Tarn  by  road,  and  as  I  wanted  to 
be  free  and  independent — to  linger  or  speed  on 
as  the  mood  should  take  me— I  travelled  in  my 
automobile  through  mellow,  luminous  August 
days  southwards  from  Paris  through  busy 
Clermont-Ferrand  and  over  the  Monts  du 
Velay  to  the  fascinating  town  of  Le  Puy, 
lying  in  a  cup  among  the  mountains. 

The  morning  I  left  Le  Puy  was  raw  and 
misty.  Scarcely  is  one  out  of  the  town  when 
the  long  ascent  begins  of  the  Monts  du  Velay 
up  out  of  the  valley  of  the  Loire  down  to  that 
of  the  Allier.  At  turns  of  the  road  I  could 
throw  back  a  glance  to  Le  Puy  lying  in  its  green 
basin,  the  stripling  Loire  curving  round  it  like 
a  silver  sickle.  Near  the  indifferent  hamlet  of 
Costaros  I  overtook  the  yellow  diligence,  which 
three  smoking  horses  were  laboriously  dragging 
up  the  heights,  and  opposite  a  feudal  tower,  in 
which  was  lodged  the  anberge,  the  diligence  and 
I  came  to  a  stop  at  the  same  instant. 

The  auberge  of  Costaros  is  one  of  the  meanest 
I  have  seen  in  France,  and  I  have  sheltered  in 
many.  The  large,  smoke  begrimed  kitchen  is 
salle  a  manger,  nursery,  and  bedroom.  The 
family  sleep  in  box-beds  let  into  the  walls.  A 
woman  clattered  in  sabots  over  the  lava  floor, 
attending  to  her  guests.  In  places  such  as  this 
a  table-cloth  is  unknown,  nor  are  knives  and 
forks  provided  by  the  house.  A  smoking 
chicken,  a  yard  of  crusty  bread,  a  jug  of  thin 
red  wine  are  set  upon  the  table,  and  each 
attacks  the  victuals  with  his  own  pocket-knife. 

Cultivation  is  continued  up  the  mountains 
high  above  Le  Puy,  but  before  the  watershed  is 
reached  the  effort  ceases,  and  the  land  is  mere 
rough  grass  and  boulder.  In  ascending  there 
breaks  suddenly  on  the  vision  a  view  of  the 
Cevennes,  rearing  their  jagged  peaks  into  a 
serene  blue  sky,  and  a  little  after  the  road 
sweeps  down  past  the  unkempt  town  of 
Pradelles,  hanging  high  on  a  green  hill  over- 
looking the  Allier.  Here  I  travelled  down  a 
finely-engineered  road,  crossed  the  Allier  out  of 
the  department  of  the  Haute  Loire  into  that  of 
Lozere,  and  gained  the  shabby  and  featureless 
town  of  Langogne.  Up  from  Langogne  runs  a 
road  which  ascends  with  pitiless  monotony, 
kilometre  after  kilometre  through  wild  country 
of  moor  and  heathery  marsh,  with  scarce  a 
habitation  worth  the  name. 

Mende  may  be  called  the  capital  of  the 
Causses.  Lying  on  the  northern  edge  of  the 
chalk  plateaux  and  being  accessible  by  railway 
both  from  east  and  west,  it  is  the  point  whence 
the  district  of  the  Tarn  may  be  most  easily 
explored  ;  it  is,  indeed,  in   the  whole  region  the 


only  town  worth  the  name.  A  compact,  doVe- 
coloured  place  of  grey  spires  and  slated  roofs, 
ringed  by  a  green  boulevard  and  set  at  the  foot 
of  great  rocky  escarpments  where  several  valleys 
flow  together,  Mende  repays  a  day  or  two  of 
exploration.  Its  fourteenth-century  cathedral 
has  towers  which  do  not  match  ;  in  some  streets 
feudal  fortifications  are  built  into  modern  houses; 
the  narrow,  winding  lanes  of  the  old  town  are 
incongruously  lit  by  electric  light. 

To  explore  the  district  of  the  Tarn  one 
travels  southwards  from  Mende,  leaving  railways 
behind.  Along  the  cheerful,  wooded  valley  of 
the  rapid  Lot  ran  an  excellent  road,  almost  on 
the  level,  as  far  as  Balsieges.  On  either  hand 
were  high  mountains,  clothed  with  feathery 
acacias  on  the  lower  slopes,  with  larch  and  pine 
above.  From  the  steep  pastures  wild-eyed 
children,  watching  flocks  of  sheep,  stared  in 
wonder  at  my  flying  automobile,  and  the  fierce 
dogs,  their  companions,  showed  their  white  fangs 
and  growled.  Formidable  oxen,  yoked  under  a 
huge  beam,  and  heavily  ploughing  a  dusty 
furrow,  tried  to  follow  me  with  their  ruminating 
glance,  until  the  goad  cruelly  recalled  them  to 
their  duty.  At  Balsieges  was  an  intricate  net- 
work of  valleys.  I  turned  abruptly  to  the  left, 
and  set  the  car  at  the  long,  gradual  ascent  which 
was  to  land  me  on  the  upland  of  the  great 
Causse  de  Sauveterre.  From  the  steep  sides 
of  the  mountains  grey  pinnacles  of  rock  rose 
like  castles  and  towers.  In  places  the  cliffs 
were  red  as  those  of  Devon  ;  in  others  they  were 
a  rich,  warm  ochre.  Sometimes  on  the  sky-line 
was  an  outcrop  of  grey  rock  riven  and  shattered 
into  the  fantastic  likeness  of  a  ruined  fortress. 
The  road  was  solitary ;  on  far-off  slopes  I  saw 
now  and  then  the  gaunt  figure  of  a  shepherd  in 
a  long  blue  blouse,  shading  his  eyes  to  look 
after  me.  Dotted  at  intervals  along  the  road- 
side were  little  shelter-huts  like  stone  beehives — 
places  of  refuge  for  the  wayfarer  surprised  by 
sudden  storms.  The  motor  made  light  of  the 
easy  gradients  of  the  well-engineered  road,  and 
in  an  hour  from  Mende  I  had  reached  the 
loftiest  point — the  Col  de  Montmirat — a  high 
saddle  which  attaches  the  great  plateau  of  the 
Causse  de  Sauveterre  on  its  eastern  edge  to  the 
Montague  de  la  Lozere.  A  lonely  auberge,  a 
poste  de  secours  of  the  Touring  Club  of  France, 
stood  on  the  col,  whence  the  road  plunged 
suddenly  down  the  side  of  a  profound  valley, 
with  a  wide  and  impressive  view  of  tumbled 
mountains.  In  the  deep  dimples  of  the  land 
collected  groups  of  poplars  and  larches ;  as  the 
car  sped  switly  down  the  long  slopes,  engineered 
in  easy,  sweeping  turns,  I  came  into  the  zone  of 
the  chestnut,  and  presently  looked  down  upon 
grey-roofed  villages   huddled    in  the  depths  of 


A    FAIRYLAND    OF    FRA\<   I 


$85 


ravines.  On  one  of  the  lower  interminable 
turns  of  the  twisting  road  I  put  on  both  brakes 
and  pulled  up  the  car  to  enjoy  at  leisure  the 
surprising  sight  which  had  suddenly  flashed  upon 
my  eyes. 

From  where  I  sat  a  valley  with  walls  so  deep 
and  straight  as  to  be  almost  a  ravine  fell  away 
at  my  feet.  In  its  remotest  depths  a  green 
river  hastened  through  a  belt  of  verdure,  sweep- 
ing in  a  wide  semicircle  round  the  foot  of  a  bold 
spur  of  mountain  which  lifted  to  the  sky  a  crown 
of  high  and  fantastic  rocks.  Faintly  was  I 
reminded  of  the  beautiful  Dart  in  far-off  Devon- 
shire, then  of  the 
Moselle  where  it 
loops  itself  in  the 
great  horse  -  shoe 
curve  round  the 
wooded  heights  of 
its  valley.  But 
the  Tarn — for  this* 
was  the  beginning 
of  its  impressive 
gorge  —  was  in- 
comparably finer 
than  either  the 
English  or  the 
German  stream. 
While  they  are 
pretty,  this  was 
sublime  ;  above 
all  was  the  mind 
seized  and  im- 
pressed by  the 
amazing  contrast 
between  the  riot 
of  fertility  in  the 
depths  of  the 
ravine  and  the 
naked  desolation 
spreading  from 
the  grey  and  stony 
lips  of  the  Causses. 

My  destination 
that  afternoon  was 
to  be  Florae,  and 
Florae  is  above 
the  junction  of  the 
Tarn  and  the  Tarnon.  The  road  lay  like  a  shelf 
high  along  the  side  of  the  valley,  looking  down 
to  the  green  and  foaming  river,  winding  in 
serpentine  curves  at  the  foot  of  the  steep  spurs 
thrown  off  from  the  vast  wall  of  the  Causse 
M^jean.  In  a  little  while  I  came  to  a  bridge 
and  the  junction  of  the  Tarn  and  the  Tarnon. 

Lying  close  to  the  three  chief  rivers  (the 
Tarn,  the  Tarnon,  and  the  Mimente)  which 
drain  the  western  slope  of  the  Cevennes,  Florae 
is  the  key  to  the  Canyon  of  the  Tarn. 

Vol.  xiv.  —49. 


/•rout  a\ 


At   Florae   my  companions   at    di :r   in  the 

inn    were    some    seven    or    eight    commercial 
travellers— a  type  with  which  tin-  wanderer  in 
rural   France  must  soon  become  familiar.     The 
blithe     sociability     which     once     di 
frenchmen   is  now  almost  a  thing  of  tin    p 
Frenchmen    meeting    by  accident   at   the   same 
table  at  an  inn  are  scarcely  more  talkative  than 
Fnglishmen  in  the  same  <  :  ->•.     Some  convi 
together  in  low  tones;  others  preserve  during 
the   whole    meal   a   frigid   silence;   some    -but 
these  are  few — read   newspapi  To 

understood   to  be  something  like  an  affront  to 

-nod  manni 
and  the  n<  wspaper 
is  folded  small  and 
kept  out  of  sight 
upon  the  lap  when 
not  in  use.  1  he 
fierce  divisions  of 
opinion  in  modern 
France  are  ac- 
countable, I  think. 
for  this  extreme 
caution  in  social 
intercourse. 

Early  next  morn- 
ing   I    explored 
Florae  on  foot.    It 
is  notable  for   an 
old  turreted  house, 
now  a  prison,  and 
formerly  a  hostelry 
of  the   Knights 
Templars  :    and 
especially    for  the 
Source  d'u  Pecher, 
a  limpid  and  abun- 
dant spring  which 
gushes    from    the 
side  of  the  (  ausse 
Mejean    and   tum- 
bles   through    the 
town    in    a 
of  cascades  down 
to   the  Tarnon, 
filling  the  air  with 
murmuring  sw 
ness.       I    looked    with    a    wondering    interest 
at     this    noble    fountain,     whose     waters     had 
fallen  first   in   the   form   of  rain   on   the  nal 
chalky  surface  of  the   Causs<  ;  had 
for  some  two  thousand   feet   through  ' 
like  soil  to  come  out  again  into  ti 
as  a  beautiful,  sparkling  cascade.     Wl  ling 

my  bill  at  the  inn— it  was  wonderfully  'heap— I 
took  occasion  to  say  (the  landlord  having  asked 
if  monsieur    had   been    cont.  that  a   man 

.nu=>t    be    either    very    hungry   or  a  determined 


l/^/ioto. 


386 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


gourmet  to  do  justice  to  such  a  long  and 
elaborate  menu  as  that  of  the  previous  night's 
dinner,  and  that  for  myself  fewer  and  simpler 
dishes  would  be  more  acceptable.  He  eagerly 
assented.  "I  know  it  is  too  much,"  he  said. 
"  All  those  dishes — who  can  enjoy  them  ?  Yet 
my  customers  would  clamour  and  think  them- 


laying  out  a  new  road  above  the  level  of  the  old 
one.  Presently  I  passed  the  road  by  which  I 
had  the  day  before  descended  from  the  Col  de 
Montmirat,  and  keeping  still  by  the  Tarn 
came  suddenly,  on  doubling  a  corner,  to  the 
curious,  untidy,  and  southern-looking  little 
town   of   Ispagnac.       In     Ispagnac    itself    the 


THE   CURIOUS   TWELFTH-CENTURY    FORTIFIED    CHURCH    AT    ISPAGNAC. 


[Photo. 


selves  cheated  if  they  did  not  have  soup  and 
fish  and  chicken  and  rabbit  and  veal  and  all  the 
other  things.  As  for  the  English,  I  know  their 
tastes,  for  I  had  a  brother  who  was  a  cook  in 
London.  You  eat  much,  but  of  few  dishes, 
and  all  you  have  must  be  good  and  solid." 

It  was  perhaps  ten  o'clock  by  the  time  I  had 
cleaned  my  car  (for  I  travel  without  a  mecanicien, 
preferring  to  look  after  my  motor  myself)  and 
loaded  it  for  the  day's  journey.  A  little  crowd 
watched  me  politely,  for,  though  automobiles  are 
sometimes  seen  in  the  region,  they  are  still  rare 
enough  to  arouse  an  almost  awe-struck  curiosity. 
My  way  towards  the  gorges  of  the  Tarn  led 
back  by  part  of  the  road  I  had  traversed  the  day 
before,  along  the  banks  of  the  river,  the  road 
winding  with  the  sinuosities  of  the  stream.  On 
my  left  hand  were  the  cliffy  battlements  of  that 
immense  calcareous  monolith,  the  Causse 
Mejean  ;  on  the  right  the  broken  foot-hills  of 
the  Montagne  de  la  Lozere.  No  sooner  had  I 
passed  the  bridge  at  the  confluence  of  the  Tarnon 
and  the  Tarn  than  I  came  upon  traces  of  a  recent 
inundation.  Uprooted  trees  lay  along  the  river 
edge,  and  engineers  were  busy  with  a  theodolite 


thing 


that  interested  me  most  was  the  for- 
tified church  of  the  twelfth  century,  with 
a  machicolated  archway  over  the  principal  door. 
Ispagnac  was  besieged  in  1580  by  Mathieu 
de  Merle,  the  terror  of  the  Gevaudan.  He 
dragged  hither  cannon  cast  from  the  bells  of 
the  cathedral  at  Mende,  and  to  lower  them 
down  the  precipices  used  twenty  pairs  of  oxen, 
of  which  one  pulled  in  front,  while  nineteen 
labouring  beasts  held  the  cannon  back  behind. 
A  breach  being  made  in  the  walls,  Ispagnac  was 
deserted  and  Merle  destroyed  its  fortifications. 

Lying  on  the  most  practicable  path  from  the 
Cevennes  to  the  Gevaudan,  little  Ispagnac  has 
been  of  importance  ever  since  the  Middle  Ages. 
Its  position  is  almost  theatrically  effective,  for 
it  stands  in  the  jaws  of  the  great  Canyon  of  the 
Tarn,  frowned  upon  on  all  hands  by  craggy, 
battlemented  mountains.  Again  at  Ispagnac 
the  contrast  between  the  lowland  and  the  high- 
land makes  forcible  appeal  to  the  imagination. 
The  vale  of  Ispagnac  is  a  garden,  dedicated  to 
horticulture  rather  than  agriculture.  It  literally 
blossoms  like  the  rose.  In  the  alluvial  soil  of 
the   valley    floor   fruit   trees   grow   in   southern 


A    FAIRYLAND    OF    FRANCE. 


387 


luxuriance,  sheltered  from  all  rude  winds  by  the 
mountain  ramparts  ;  on  the  terraced  slopes  of 
the  lower  hills  grapes  ripen.  But  the  zone  of 
cultivation  does  not  reach  high.  Where  the 
hills  become  too  steep  to  support  the  terraces, 
sterility  begins ;  and  above  are  the  desolate 
wastes  of  the  Causses. 

In  this  new  Vale  of  Tempe  lie  two  other 
villages  besides  Ispagnac — Molines  and  Quezac, 
this  last  linked  to  Ispagnac  by  an  ancient, 
camel-backed  bridge.  The  road  makes  a  wide 
sweep  in  the  valley  and  passes  below  the 
beautiful  Chateau  of  Rochehlave,  a  fortified 
house  of  the  seventeenth  century  adorned  with 
fine  windows  and  machicolations. 

At  Rocheblave  begins  the  true  Canyon  of  the 
Tarn.  The  river — marvellously  pure,  marvel- 
lously green — twists  itself  into  a  loop  and 
plunges  between  the  vast  walls  of  the  Causse 
de  Sauveterre  and  the  Causse  Mejean.  For 
thirty-six  miles,  from  the  bridge  at  Ispagnac  to 
that  at  Le  Rozier,  the  Tarn  winds  in  its  won- 
derful gorge.  Were  this  tremendous  fissure 
cleft  through  rocks  of  granite  or  schist  it  would 
be  lugubrious  ;  but  the  warmth  and  light  in  the 
ravine,  the  diversity  of  tints  in  the  multi-coloured 
rocks,  the  magnificent  fountains  that  feed  the 
river,  the  rich  abundance  of  the  almond,  the 
walnut,  the  fig,  the  chestnut,  and  the  vine — all 
these  things  give  an  effect  of  gaiety  and  joyous- 
ness.  There  is  a  good  carriage  road  along  the 
right  bank  of  the  river  as  far  as  St.  Enimie,  and 
it  is  being  continued  the  whole  length  of  the 
gorge  to  Le  Rozier,  though  ten  years  will  prob- 
ably elapse  before  the  work  is  finished.  In 
these  upper  reaches  the  river  is  not  navigable  ; 
the  canyon  is  best  seen  either  from  the  carriage 
road  or  the  narrow  footpath  that  runs  parallel 
with  it  on  the  left  bank  of  the  stream.  From 
Ispagnac  to  St.  Enimie  is  some  eleven  miles, 
and  tourists  who  are  pressed  for  time  can  do 
this  journey  by  carriage,  take  boat  at  St.  Enimie, 
and  reach  Le  Rozier  the  same  evening  ;  though 
it  need  scarcely  be  said  that  not  in  such  hurried 
journeying  as  this  can  the  beauties  of  the  way  be 
studied  and  enjoyed.  A  whole  day  should  be 
given  to  the  journey  from  Florae  to  St.  Enimie, 
and  at  least  one  more  to  the  descent  by  boat 
from  St.  Enimie  to  Le  Rozier.  It  is  better  still 
to  break  the  voyage  at  the  Chateau  de  la  Caze 
or  at  La  Malene,  so  giving  two  days  to  the  river 
trip.  Even  thus  there  is  to  be  gained  little  more 
than  an  impression  of  the  beauties  of  the  Canyon 
of  the  Tarn.  A  month  would  not  be  too  long 
to  give  to  an  exploration  of  its  banks  and  the 
Causses  whose  broken  edges  overhang  it. 

It  is  one  of  the  charms  of  this  wonderful 
gorge  that  it  does  not  show  all  its  beauties  at 
first.     The  road  winds  into  the  ravine,  following 


the  twistings  of  the  river  and  running  al  a 
height  above  it.  I  he  rains  and  frosts  of 
centuries  have  carved  and  channelled  the  (lift's 
into  fantastic  shapes,  and  the  eye  is  perpetually 
mocked  by  castles  of  rock  and  towers  of  dolomite 
which  owe  their  forms  to  Nature  alone,  and  not 
to  man,  as  one  is  tempted  at  the  fust  glance  to 
suppose.  I  found  that  my  automobile  offered  a 
hundred  advantages  in  visiting  the  canyon.  1 
could  go  as  slowly  as  I  liked,  could  leave  the 
car  on  the  roadside  when  I  wanted  to  scramble 
up  or  down  to  get  a  good  place  for  photograph- 
ing, and  could  at  any  moment  turn  and  run 
back  to  look  a  second  or  a  third  time  at  any 
view  that  had  particularly  appealed  to  my  sense 
of  the  picturesque.  Of  course,  there  are  many 
places  on  the  banks  of  the  Tarn  and  on  the 
Causses  which  can  be  explored  only  on  foot  ; 
but  the  automobile  is  an  enormous  economizer 
of  time,  for,  if  it  cannot  carry  you  up  the 
mountains,  it  can  at  least  carry  you  swiftly  to 
the  beginning  of  a  climb,  and  speed  away  with 
you  to  the  next  when  the  first  is  done. 

From  the  Chateau  de  Rocheblave  the  road 
passes  over  slopes  of  debris  from  the  mountain 
side  through  one  or  two  insignificant  hamlets 
(Le  Buisson  and  Le  Chambonnet),  until  on  the 
opposite  bank  appears  the  spring  of  Pelatan, 
the  first  of  those  wonderful  cascades  which,  gush- 
ing from  the  subterranean  rivers  in  the  bowels 
of  the  Causses,  feed  the  Tarn  with  their  crystal 
and  abundant  waters.  Issuing  from  the  rocks, 
it  falls  into  a  cascade  towards  the  river,  but  the 
mill  which  it  formerly  worked  stands  ruined  by 
the  great  inundation  of  September  29th, 
1900.  A  little  after  the  valley  falls  together 
again,  the  road  mounts  up,  and  presently,  in  a 
great  well  of  the  ravine,  the  plunging  glance 
drops  down  on  to  one  of  the  strangest  sights 
imaginable.  Opposite,  on  the  left  bank,  the  walls 
of  the  Causse  Mejean  rise  majestically  tor  three- 
thousand  feet,  towering  upwards  from  the  swift, 
green  river,  and  against  the  lowest  spurs  ol  the 
mountain  rampart  is  plastered  the  curious  little 
hamlet  of  Castelbouc.  a  stranger  dwelling 
human  beings  can  scarcelv  be  conceived;  it  is 
like  a  bird's  nest.  Above  it,  on  an  aiguille  of 
rock,  is  the  graceful  ruin  of  a  castle  dismantled 
in  1538;  issuing  from  a  gorge  in  the  mountain 
behind  the  hamlet  of  a  hundred  and  sixty 
inhabitants  foams  another  ol  the  super! 
which  are  among  the  chief  wonders  ol  the  lam. 
Some  of  these  torrents  pour  out  as  much  a- 
cubic  metres  a  second.  They  flow  always  with 
a  constant  stream,  they  ke<  p  always  an  even 
temperature.     The  great  source   at   1  ouc 

augments  the  little  thread  of  tin  I  am  with  such 
an'  abundant  stream  that  from  this  point  the 
river  becomes  navigable  for  flat-bottomed  b 


388 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


Facing  north,  and  shut  out  during  the  winter 
months  from  all  sight  of  the  sun  by  the  great 
wall  of  the  Causse  de  Sauveterre,  which  rises 
opposite  to  it,  Castelbouc  would  seem  to  be 
one  of  the  saddest  places  imaginable  for  human 
beings  to  live  in.  That  anyone  should  voluntarily 
exist  in  Castelbouc  is  difficult  to  believe.  The 
first  time  I  looked  down  upon  it  from  the  small 
rocky  plateau,  high  on  the  opposite  bank,  the 
fantastic  little  hamlet  seemed  rather  the  realiza- 
tion of  a  dream  of  Gustave  Dore  than  a  place 
built  by  man,  where  men  and  women  work  and 


Castelbouc  there  is  a  delightful  footpath  by  the 
river-edge  as  far  as  Prades,  a  village  that  trickles 
all  down  the  side  of  the  gorge,  from  the  high 
road,  where  stands  the  still  imposing  chateau,  to 
the  river.  Between  Castelbouc  and  Prades  is  a 
remarkable  echo  that  repeats  seven  consecutive 
syllables,  and  hereabouts  is  the  most  beautiful 
scenery  of  the  upper  gorge.  From  Prades  the 
road  drops  into  a  great  well  of  rocks — tinted 
with  ochre,  violet,  and  gold  ;  and  here  lies  the 
little  town  of  St.  Enimie.  It  is  the  first  stage  in 
the  journey  down  the  Tarn. 


THE   STRANGE    HAMLET   OK   CASTELLSOUC,    THOIOGKATHEU    FKO.U     THE   Oi'T'OSI  IE   PRECIPICE. 


love  and  die.  As  I  gazed  down  at  the  silent 
houses  a  door  opened,  and  the  curb,  in  black 
soutane,  came  out  with  a  melancholy  step, 
reading  a  book.  Slowly,  wearily,  he  paced  the 
one  street  of  Castelbouc,  his  eyes  always  on  the 
white  page,  and  that  solitary  black  figure  moving 
sadly  through  the  dream-village  seemed  to  add  a 
yet  profounder  note  of  depression  to  the  scene. 
The  town  of  Halstatt,  in  the  Salzkammergut  of 
Austria,  is  called  a  remote  and  sombre  place. 
It,  too,  lies  against  a  mountain  side,  and  for 
months  is  never  gladdened  by  the  sun ;  but, 
compared   to  Castelbouc,   Halstatt  is  radiantly 

gay- 

Castelbouc  is  too  extraordinary  to  be  passed 
by  merely  with  a  glance  from  the  opposite  bank. 
The  traveller  should  descend  a  steep  path  that 
leads  to  the  river-brink  and  summon  the  town. 
In  answer  to  his  cry  a  flat-bottomed  boat  will 
come  to  him  obliquely  across  the  swift-running 
stream,  and  he  will  be  ferried  over  by  some 
inhabitant  of  the  hamlet,  who  will  guide  him  in 
an  exploration  of  the  deep  fissure  behind  the 
town,  whence  issues  the  torrent.      Then  from 


Along  the  valley  of  the  Tarn  there  are  no 
facilities  for  travel  save  by  boats,  which  start 
from  St.  Enimie.  From  Florae  or  Ispagnac  to 
St.  Enimie  there  is  no  public  service  of  vehicles 
— the  roads,  indeed,  are  scarcely  practicable 
for  diligences  or  heavy  carriages.  The  new 
road  that  is  being  made  above  the  level  of  all 
possible  floods  will  be  wide  enough  for  two 
carriages  to  pass,  and  when  it  is  finished  some 
regular  service  of  public  vehicles  may  be  set  up. 
But  that  cannot  be  for  years.  In  the  meantime 
the  traveller  must  either  walk,  cycle,  drive  in  a 
private  carriage,  use  an  automobile,  or  go  with 
the  courtier,  who  usually  starts  at  some  hour  as 
inconvenient  as  two  in  the  morning ;  and  none 
of  these  conveyances  will  serve  him  beyond  St. 
Enimie.  There  he  must  perforce  take  to  the 
water. 

By  the  bridge  at  St.  Enimie  you  take  boat  for 
the  descent  of  the  Tarn.  To  Le  Rozier,  where 
the  gorge  ends,  is  a  voyage  of  eight  hours  with- 
out a  stop.  The  boats  are  stoutly-built  flat- 
bottomed  punts,  seven  metres  long,  one  wide, 
slightly  tapering  in  front,  square   at   the  stern. 


A    FAIRYLAND    OF    FRANCE. 


389 


THE   GORGE   AT   ST.    CHELY,    SHOWING   THKEE    OK    THE    CURIOUS   SU 
From  a]  EMPTY    THEMSELVES    INTO   THE   TARN 

Underneath  they  are  protected  by  large,  round- 
he.ided  nails  from  the  scraping  of  the  rocks  in 
the  rapids.  The  boats  are  managed  by  two 
men,  one  at  the  bow,  the  other  at  the  stern, 
each  balancing  a  long  punt-pole  in  his  hand,  and 
the  voyage  is  undertaken  in  stages,  boats  and 
boatmen  being  changed  four  times. 

Pushing  off  from  the  bank  close  to  where  the 
Source  de  Burle  pours  its  cascade  into  the 
stream,  a  stroke  of  the  punt-poles  carries  the  boat 
out  into  mid-water.  Immediately  the  current 
takes  it  and  whisks  it  round  a  high  rocky  point. 
In  a  moment  St.  Enimie  is  out  of  sight.  There 
is  a  delicious  sense  of  freshness  and  buoyancy 
in  floating  on  the  shallow  green  water,  so 
crystal-clear  that  each  pebble  at  the  bottom  is 
plainly  seen.  Shoals  of  active  trout  dart  hither 
and  thither,  and  my  boatman,  with  the  deft  cast 
of  a  weighted  net,  caught  half-a-dozen  of  these 
pink-fleshed  and  desirable  little  fish.  The  current 
carries  the  boat  along  at  some  three  miles  an 
hour,  a  speed  quickened  by  the  vigorous  strokes 
of  the  men  pushing  on  the  bed  of  the  stream. 
On  either  hand  the  cliffs  rise  enormously  high, 
their  upper  surfaces  shattered  into  a  thousand 
fantastic  shapes.  The  river  runs  a  sinuous 
course,  and  one  is  constantly  confronted  with 
towering  walls  of  rock  which  seem  to  shut  it  in 
like  a  lake. 

A  sudden  turn  of  the  stream  reveals  the  tiny 
village  of  St.  Chely  on  the  left  bank,  climbing 
up  a  break  in  the  cliff-like  walls  that  hem  in 
the  stream.  One  of  the  quaint  and  old-world 
practices  of  the  district  is  for  the  boatmen 
to   carry   with    them    a   shell,    with    which,    on 


BTERRANEAGJ    RIVERS    WHICH 

[Photo. 


approaching  a  village,  they 
blow  melancholy  notes 
that  echo  along  the  savage 

tits.  Two  bla 
nify  that  the  traveller 
means  to  stay  ;  three,  that 
another  boat  must  begot 
ready  to  1  any  him  a 
further  Stage.  At  St. 
Chely  the  I  am  is  enriched 
by  no  fewer  than  tl. 
abundant  1  as<  ades,  which 
issue  from  the  subterra- 
nean recesses  of  the 
Causses,  and  plunge  into 
the  river  from  a  height  of 
eight  or  ten  met! 
While  the  new  boat  is 
being  prepared  and  tin- 
luggage  transhipped,  it  is 
worth  while  to  wander  up 
the  one  street  of  sleeping 
St.  Chely  and  to  penetrate 
to  the  grotto  whence 
gushes  out  one  of  the  cascades. 

The    vertical     rocks     on    either    hand    now 
approach  more  closely.     There  is  here  no  foot- 
path  by  the   river-edge,    for  the   limpid   water 
bathes  the  foot  of  the  precipice.     In  one  deep 
pool  hereabouts  the  Tarn    attains    its    greatest 
depth — sixty  feet.     The  water  is  like  a  block  of 
emerald.     So  clear  and  pure  is  it  and  so  white 
the  pebbly  bed  that  the  rays  of  light  play  extra- 
ordinary tricks.     A  stick  plunged  into  the  river 
seems  like  a  bar  of  silver.     A  few  sure  stroke-, 
of  the  punt-pole  carry  the  boat  into  one  of  the 
most  impressive  parts  of  the  river,  the  great  rocky 
defile  known  as  the  Detroit.     Cliffs  rising  to  the 
height  of  hundreds  of  feet  hang  their  huge  massi  s 
over  the  water,  so  that  the  boat  seems  about  to 
penetrate  into  a  tunnel.     The   silence   is   pro- 
found, and  if  this  be  broken  by  a  blast  upon 
the  boatman's  shell  the  long-drawn  note  st< 
along   the   rocky  walls   until   it  dies  in  gentle 
echoes  too  delicate  for  the  ear  to  receive.     In 
the  middle  of  the  Detroit  the  great  body  of  the 
water   swings   seaward    with    an    imperceptible 
current,    but   along   the   face   of    the   rocks    it 
swirls  and  boils  with  much  foamy  efl 
and    boisterous    noise.      The    boatmen   mat 
their     craft     with     admirable     addn 
current   takes   it  and   carries    it  swiftly  t 
the  rocky  wall.     It  looks  dangerous.     Noth 
it  would  seem,  could  avert  a  smart  collision  that 
must  crack  the   planks  of   the  punt  and  let  the 
green  water  come  flooding   in.     But  with   1 
quick  thrust  of  the  punt-pol< 
the  crisis  is  past ;  the  boat  off  at  an  ai 

to  be  seized  in  another  swirling  eddy  and  dance 


39° 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


lightly  down  a  rapid,  whose  curling  waves  pound 
the  stout  sides  of  the  punt  and  fling  their  foam- 
ing crests  over  its  side.  The  Detroit  ends 
suddenly  and  the  aspect  changes.  The  banks 
fall  back  and  are  crowded  with  fantastic  rocks, 
christened  with  names  like  "  The  Lady  with  the 
Umbrella"  and  "The  Monk."  One  or  two 
mean  villages  find  a  resting-place  upon  the  more 
level  ground,  and  presently  the  boat  floats  into 
the  middle  of  a  vast  semicircle  of  stupendous 
cliffs.  It  is  the  Cirque  des  Baumes,  and  the 
last  stage  but  one  in  the  descent. 

Presently  the  rapids  become  fewer,  the 
malachite  stream  resumes  its  gentle  flow,  and 
in  front  is  seen  the  stone  bridge  of  Le  Rozier, 
overthrown,  like  all  the  others,  in  the  great  inun- 
dation of  1900,  and  patched  into  usefulness 
again  with  iron  girders.  The  Tarn  still  flows 
through  a  quite  imposing  gorge  ;  but  the  great 
nose  of  rock  dominating  the  hotel  on  the  left 
bank  is  the  last  proud  outpost  of  the  Causse 
Mejean.  A  few  hundred  yards  beyond,  the  Jonte 
flows  out  of  an  adjacent  valley  to  mingle  its 
waters  with  those  of  the  Tarn  at  the  quaintly- 
placed  town  of  Peyreleau,  and  the  augmented 
river  flows  on  through  beautiful,  open  country 
to  Millau,  thence  in  a  sinuous  westerly  course  to 
its  confluence  with  the  Garonne  near  Moissac. 

Sitting  placidly  on  the  terrace  of  the  hotel  at 
Le  Rozier,  and  recalling  the  wonders  of  the  few 
previous  days,  I  felt  myself  the  spoilt  child  of 
the  picturesque.  Yet  there  awaited  me  fresh 
discoveries  not  less  interesting  than  the  beauties 


of  the  Tarn.  I  wandered  back  again  at  leisure 
and  on  foot  up  the  length  of  the  canyon,  linger- 
ing in  many  places,  often  climbing  the  cliffs  on 
either  hand  ;  and  thus  came  a  second  time  to 
St.  Enimie  and  my  sleeping  motor.  With  a  turn 
of  the  starting  handle  I  was  away,  and  flying 
swiftly  up  the  steep  zigzags  that  lead  to  the 
Causse  Mejean,  to  drop  down  later  upon  the 
curious  little  town  of  Meyrueis,  on  the  Jonte. 
From  Meyrueis  I  explored  the  vast  cave  of  Dar- 
gilan,  wandering  for  a  long  day  by  candlelight 
through  its  fairy  stalactite  halls,  and  clambering 
hundreds  of  feet  up  and  down  its  intricate 
passages.  From  Meyrueis,  too,  I  threaded  the 
exquisite  ravine  of  the  Jonte,  ran  out  into  the 
open  country  as  far  as  busy  Millau,  and  plunged 
back  again  into  the  Causses  by  the  poetic  valley 
of  the  Dourbie,  to  explore  from  La  Roque  Ste. 
Marguerite  the  strange  rock  city  of  Montpellier-le- 
Vieux,  crowning  the  steep  escarpment  of  the 
Causse  Noir.  Beyond  Meyrueis  I  turned  my  back 
upon  the  Causses,  to  penetrate  by  interminable, 
solitary  roads,  running  high  over  open  and  deso- 
late country,  into  the  forest  of  Aigoual,  where  is 
the  curious  underground  river  of  Bramabiau 
("  bellowing  ox  ") ;  and  thence  by  a  wild  moun- 
tain road — long,  steep,  and  marvellously  twisted 
—swooped  down  at  length  from  the  heights 
upon  Le  Vigan  and  Romrn  Nimes,  where, 
among  the  jangling  tramways  and  the  garish 
electric  light  and  the  clatter  of  cafes,  my  recent 
wanderings  in  the  upland  deserts  seemed  remote 
as  an  excursion  into  dreamland. 


Frpm  a] 


AFTER   THE   DAY'S    WORK — A    PICTURESQUE    SCENE    AT   MEYRUEIS, 


[Phfftg. 


Suardmq  a  Jlailroad  m  the  "  Bandit  Belt/' 


By  William  M.vcLeod  Raine. 

For  years  train  robbery  has  been  a  lucrative  and  flourishing  industry  in  the  United  States,  and  of 
late  "hold-ups"  have  occurred  with  alarming  frequency.  Recently,  however,  the  Union  Pacific 
Railroad  resolved  to  exterminate  the  outlaws  who  systematically  preyed  upon  its  trains,  and  the  plan 
adopted   is   likely   to   have  far-reaching   results.      Mr.  Raine   describes    the    way   in    which    the    Union 

Pacific  "  bandit  belt  "  is  now  safeguarded. 


OT  long  ago  train  robbery  was  a 
lucrative  profession  in  the  Western 
States  of  America.  To-day  it  is  on 
its  last  legs.  Several  factors  have 
contributed  to  this  desirable  result. 
The  extension  of  the  long-distance  telephone  to 
the  ranch  lands,  following  hard  upon  the  heels 
of  the  settlement  of  the  cow  country,  was  the 
first  set-back  to  the  flourishing  industry.  Now 
the  Union  Pacific  Railroad  has  put  another 
stumbling-block  in  the  way  of  the  outlaw.  It 
was  not  enough  that  the  whereabouts  of  the 
escaping  desperadoes  could  be  telephoned  from 
point  to  point  ahead  of  them,  which  necessitated 
their  confining  operations  to  the  wilder  parts 
of  the  country.  The  Union  Pacific  had  a  plan 
to  put  them  out  of  business  altogether,  and 
the  fiat  has  gone  forth  from  head-quarters  that 
the  organized  bands  of  train  robbers  which  have 
been  operating  in  the  "  bandit  belts  "  are  to  be 
exterminated. 

The  territory  of  the  different  "  bandit  belts  " 
throughout  the  western  half  of  the  United 
States  has  for  a  long  time  been  clearly  defined. 
One  stretches  across  Texas  to  Arizona,  along  the 
Southern  Pacific  line  ;  another  zigzags  through 
the  Colorado  Mountains  to  the  country  about 
the  well-known  Robbers'  Roost.  A  third — and 
the  most  dangerous  of  all — belts  Wyoming  in 
the  rough  cow  district,  where  lies  the  notorious 
Hole-in-the-Wall  country.  Here,  among  the 
Teton  Mountains,  far  from  the  reach  of  the 
long  arm  of  the  law,  there  lurked  for  many 
years  a  nomadic  population  composed  of  cattle 
rustlers,  highwaymen,  and  fugitives  from  justice. 
The  district  was  a  natural  fortification,  and 
every  settler  in  it  had  a  grudge  against  the  law. 
Here  desperadoes  were  safe  from  a  sheriffs 
posse ;  the  wings  of  the  wind  whispered  the 
approach  of  officers,  and  long  before  the 
emissaries  of  justice  had  reached  the  spot 
their  quarry  had  fled. 


The  Hole-in-the-Wall  is  a  valley  situated  in 
the  western  part  of  Natrona  County,  Wyoming. 
It  lies  among  the  foothills  south-east  of  the 
Big  Horn  Mountains.  The  nearest  railroad 
point  is  more  than  a  hundred  miles  away. 
Casper,  'Cody,  and  Rawlins  are  the  nearest 
towns,  and  these  are  about  one  hundred  and 
fifty  miles  distant.  Circled  by  inaccessible 
mountains,  inhabited  by  desperate  cut-throats, 
and  situate  beyond  the  utmost  rim  of  civilization, 
for  long  the  Hole-in-the-Wall  was  a  safe  haven 
for  the  flotsam  and  jetsam  of  Western  crime. 

It  was  from  this  place  that  the  famous 
"Butch"  Cassidy  gang  sallied  forth  at  intervals 
to  hold  up  trains,  dynamite  banks,  and  rob 
stages.  After  each  lawless  outrage  the  desper- 
adoes, hotly  pursued  by  posses  of  officials, 
dashed  back  toward  their  mountain  fastnesses. 
Here,  once  hidden  in  the  impenetrable  caves, 
they  were  secure  from  arrest. 

This  gang  formed  a  veritable  trust  in  out- 
lawry, but  slowly  and  surely  the  forces  of  the 
law  have  exacted  payment  from  them  for  their 
misdeeds.  Out  of  all  the  desperate  dozen 
fearless  men  who  made  up  the  band  but  two 
are  at  liberty.  They  are  "Butch"  Cassidy  him- 
self and  Harry  Longbaugh,  "The  Sun  Dance 
Kid,"  and  both  of  these  have  been  forced  to 
leave  the  country.  The  others  are  either  dead 
or  in  prison. 

The  well-known  "  Black  Jack  "  Ketchum  and 
his  brother  Sam,  both  as  desperate  ruffian 
ever  existed  ;  handsome  Ben  Kilpatrick,  whose 
dashing  ways  and  beautiful  eves  made  hii 
favourite  with  women  ;  the  Curry  brothers,  I 
less    men   and   lawless,    both    of   th 
Warner,   Tom   O'Day,    David    1 
Bill     Carver,     and     others  this 

redoubtable   band  of  rob  them 

was  a  dead  shot  and  ever  i  ■' 

naturally   followed    that    every    railroad    within 
reach  was  held  up  by  this  pr<  cii 


39'- 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


At  Wilcox,  Wyoming,  on  June  2nd,  1899,  a 
Union  Pacific  train  was  stopped  by  half-a-dozen 
armed  men.  They  forced  the  engineer  and 
train  crew  to  uncouple  the  engine  and  express 
car  from  the  train.  Then  they  ran  the  loco- 
motive down  the  line  for  a  mile,  blew  up  the 
express  car,  and  looted  it.  Their  haul  was  only 
three  thousand  dollars. 

Immediately  on  hearing  of  the  robbery  Sheriff 
Hazen,  of  Converse  County,  set  out  in  pursuit. 
It  was  believed  that  the  robbers  would  be 
headed  off  by  the  Platte  River,  which  was  in 
flood,  but  they  succeeded  in  swimming  it  on 
stolen  horses.  Where  they  went  Sheriff  Hazen 
could  go,  and  his  posse  took  to  the  water  as 
well.     It  was  a  close  race,  but  Hazen  won. 


masked  hold-ups  who  stopped  a  passenger  train. 
Again  the  mail  and  express  car  were  uncoupled, 
run  up  the  line,  and  blown  up  with  dynamite. 
Fortunately  the  safe  was  practically  empty,  so 
that  the  robbers  only  got  thirty  dollars.  Joe 
La  Fors  took  up  the  trail  at  once  with  a  posse. 
For  days  the  trail  was  followed,  but  was  finally 
lost  in  the  heavy  timber  near  the  Utah  line. 
The  bandits  had  disappeared  somewhere  in  the 
notorious  Robbers'  Roost  country. 

Then   came   energetic   action  at   the   Union 
Pacific  head-quarters.    A  body  of  Rangers  were 


keuher's  rangers,  the  corts  formed  by  the  union  pacific  railroad 
From  a]  to  exterminate  train-robbers.  [Photo. 


i 


The  flying  robbers  were  forced  to  turn  and 
fight  at  Elk  Mountain.  It  was  a  rough  and 
broken  country,  and  the  outlaws  had  the  advan- 
tage of  knowing  every  inch  of  it.  From  behind 
boulders  and  brushwood  they  held  off  the  posse 
— five  men  against  two  hundred.  Hazen 
exposed  himself,  and  next  moment  reeled  back 
with  a  bullet  through  his  heart.  Darkness  fell, 
and  the  gang  slipped  away  across  the  mountains 
into  the  Hole-in-the-Wall.  George  Curry, 
Harvey  Logan,  and  Bob  Lee  were  all  known  to 
be  in  this  affair. 

Then  came  another  daring  train  robbery  on 
the  Union  Pacific  line.  At  Tipton,  Wyoming, 
on  August  29th,  1900,  Harvey  Logan,  George 
Kilpatrick,    and    "  Bill "    Cruzan    headed    the 


organized  to  defend  the  line,  under  the  command 
of  Tim  Keliher.  From  that  day  to  this  travelling 
thiough  the  "bandit  belt  "  on  the  Union  Pacific 
line,  so  far  as  robbers  go,  has  been  as  safe  as 
taking  a  journey  from  London  to  Liverpool. 
Every  train  carries  with  it  one  or  more  armed 
guards.  They  ride  on  the  engine,  in  the 
baggage  car,  on  the  day  coaches,  or  in  the 
sleepers,  being  instructed  not  to  stay  always  at 
one  point  of  the  train.  Any  gang  of  bandits 
attacking  a  Union  Pacific  train  now  will  know  it 
has  to  reckon  on  a  stiff  fight,  for  not  only  is  each 
train  guarded,  but  somewhere  up  or  down  the 
line  is  the  patrol  body  of  Rangers,  ready  to  be 
shipped  to  the  danger-zone  as  fast  as  steam  can 
carry  them. 


GUARDING    A    RAILROAD    IN    THE    "BANDIT    BELT." 


393 


Through  the  Hole-in-the-Wall  runs  a  tele- 
phone line,  which  has  made  it  untenable  for  the 
outlaws,  and  Robbers'  Roost  will  soon  be  no 
safer.  The  organization  of  Keliher's  Rangers  is 
the  beginning  of  the  end.  Other  railroads  will 
follow  the  example  of  the  enterprising  "  U.P." 
and  take  similar  precautions  for  the  safety  of 
their  express  cars  and  passengers. 

At  Parachute,  Colorado,  the  "  Butch  "  Cassidy 
gang  recently  gave  evidence  of  its  continued 
activity.  On  June  7th,  1904,  a  train  was  held 
up,  but  no  booty  secured.  An  untiring  pursuit 
was  instituted  and  the  robbers  were  run  down 
near  Rifle,  Colorado.  In  the  fusillade  that 
followed  the  outlaw  leader  was  badly  wounded. 

He  was  heard  to  shout  to  his  comrades, 
"  Don't  wait  for  me,  boys.  I'm  all  in.  Good- 
bye." Next  moment  he  sent  a  bullet  through 
his  own  brain.  The  notorious  "  Kid  "  Curry 
had  gone  to  his  last  account.  The  other  men 
escaped  for  the  time,  but  this  attempt  marks 
nearly  the  close  of  what  was  once  a  very  flour- 
ishing industry. 

The    personnel    of    Tim    Keliher's     Rangers 


inaugurated  his  acceptance  of  the  position  by 
breaking  up  at  once  an  organized  band  of  train 
employes  who  were  preying  on  the  company 
and  robbing  it  of  thousands  of  dollars.  Four 
of  these  employes  went  to  prison,  ten  of  them 
were  confined  in  the  county  gaol  and  I'm.  d, 
twenty  of  them  lost  their  positions.  Keliher 
was  a  much-hated  man,  but  he  went  on  quietly 
with  his  work. 

The  rest  of  the  Ranger  company  are  as  note- 
worthy as  their  chief.  Joe  La  Fors  is  a  deputy 
United  States  marshal  and  cattle  detective 
known  all  over  the  West.  He  it  was  who 
brought  to  justice  the  notorious  Tom  Horn, 
who  was  hanged  at  Cheyenne  for  killing  settle]  s 
at  so  much  per  head  for  the  big  cattle  com- 
panies. La  Fors,  Tom  Meggeson,  and  Pal 
Lawson  are  among  the  best  trailers  in  the 
country.  Indeed,  Keliher  says  that  La  Fors 
can  follow  a  trail  at  a  hand-gallop.  Flink  was 
sheriff  of  Buffalo  County,  Nevada.  George 
Hiatt  is  an  ex-deputy  sheriff;  and  Jeff  Carr  has 
been  a' law  officer  at  Cheyenne  ever  since  the 
town  was  a  frontier  cattle  camp.  All  of  them 
are  dead  shots  and  "  as  game  as  wild  cats." 

At  Cheyenne  may  be  found  the  head-quarters 
of  the  Rangers.     At   this  place  their  specially- 


i'rom  a\ 


THE    HOUSES    IN    THEEK    SPECIAL   CAK, 


practically  ensures  the  efficiency  of  the  corps. 
First  there  is  Tim  Keliher  himself,  a  big  man, 
weighing  two  hundred  and  twenty  pounds,  who 
;s  nevertheless  as  lithe  and  sinewy  as  a  cat.  He 
is  modest  to  an  unusual  degree,  but  is  as  brave 
as  a  lion.  Keliher  is  the  chief  of  the  Wyoming 
branch  of  the  Union  Pacific  secret  service.     He 

Vol.  xiv. -50. 


fitted  car  is   kept  when   it   is   not  on  the  p 
In  point  of  fact,   it   is   nothing    m<  re 
baggage  car    prepared   to  accommodate    them. 
Intone  end  of  it  stand  the  horses,  while  at  the 
other  is  accommodation  for  the  men.    A  number 
of  folding  cots,  a  score  of  blankets,  half-a-d< 
cow-punchers'  saddles,  a  pack-saddle,  a  rack 


394 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


arms,  some  canteens,  a  tin  stove,  and  a  pantry 
are  all  packed  into  this  narrow  compass.  This 
pantry  contains  such  necessaries  as  coffee, 
bacon,  flour,  canned  goods,  and  salt.  Some- 
times, while  on  the  trail,  the  Rangers  kill  a  cow 
and  cook  it  on  their  camp  fires.  Of  course, 
these  cots  and  other  impedimenta  are  not 
carried  while  actually  following  outlaws.  Then 
the  men  travel  as  light  as  possible,  their  heaviest 
baggage  being  the  arsenal  of  weapons  which 
each  one  has  with  him. 

Chief  Keliher  keeps  in  close  touch  with  all 


The  district  which  is  patrolled  lies  between 
Medicine  Bow,  one  hundred  miles  west  of 
Cheyenne,  and  Green  River,  Wyoming.  It 
covers  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  of 
broken  rock  country,  which  is  very  little  known 
and  sparsely  settled.  Here  the  line  swings 
through  the  bad  lands  about  Point  of  Rocks, 
Wamsutter,  Fort  Steele,  and  Red  Desert.  If 
the  day  is  clear  enough  the  mountains  surround- 
ing the  Hole-in-the-Wall  may  be  seen  in  the 
distance.  The  worst  parts  of  the  line  are,  of 
course,  patrolled  most.     Red  Desert  is  a  sheep- 


J 


THE  RANGERS  ON  THE  WAY  TO  THE  SCENE  OF  A  "  HOLD-UP.' 

From  a  Photo. 


his  men,  and  can,  within  thirty  minutes  of  the 
time  of  receiving  a  wire,  get  his  car  under  way 
for  the  scene  of  the  hold-up.  A  special  engine 
stands  ready  in  the  yards  at  Cheyenne.  The 
men  are  summoned,  the  horses  are  hurried 
from  their  stable  up  the  gang-plank,  and  into 
the  night  goes  steaming  the  Rangers'  special, 
with  a  clear  right  of  way  over  every  train  on  the 
track.  Within  six  hours  they  can  be  at  any 
point  of  attack  within  the  "  bandit  belt."  Sup- 
pose a  train  to  be  attacked  at  midnight.  By 
daybreak  Joe  La  Fors  and  Meggeson  will  be 
following  the  trail  with  eagle  eyes. 

The  horses  also  are  picked  out  of  a  hundred 
candidates.  They  are  native  Westerners  like 
their  riders,  and  each  of  them  is  as  tireless  as 
its  master.  Strong-legged  and  wiry,  they  never 
look  for  the  end  of  the  road. 


grazing  country,  and  is  not  used  by  the  herders 
in  summer.  Riding  swiftly  across  this  desert,  a 
band  of  train  robbers  could  reach  the  railroad 
without  being  detected.  It  is  to  forestall  this 
that  the  Rangers  ride  the  line. 

Both  men  and  horses  are  kept  in  constant 
requisition  to  patrol  the  line  and  watch  for 
suspicious  characters.  Occasionally  the  car  is 
sent  out  to  Medicine  Bow  or  Point  of  Rocks  as 
the  case  may  be.  Here  the  Rangers  and  their 
horses  are  unloaded.  They  ride  along  the  line, 
watching  for  suspicious  characters  of  whom  they 
may  have  heard.  Meanwhile  their  special 
follows  a  parallel  course,  keeping  in  touch  with 
the  men  and  picking  them  up  at  any  point 
agreed  upon.  At  no  time  do  the  men  get  more 
than  a  mile  or  two  from  their  wheeled  base  of 
supplies,  unless  they  are  on  an  actual  chase. 


GUARDING    A    RAILROAD    IN    THE    "BANDIT     BE!   I. 


imm,*r 


F.I\H"nn/ni/. 


HORSES    AND    MEN    ENTRAINING.        WITHIN   THIRTY   MINUTES   OF    RECEIVING    INFORMATION    THE   RANGERS'   CAR    I>    ON'    ITS 

From  a]  way  to  the  locality  indicated.  {Plioto. 


Every  man  bristles  like  an  arsenal.  Each 
one  carries  a  thirty-forty  smokeless  repeating 
Winchester,  which  fires  the  same  cartridge  as  a 
Krag-Jorgenson  army  rifle.  He  is  farther 
equipped  with  a  pair  of  forty-four  Colt's 
revolvers,  and  a  hundred  rounds  of  ammunition 
in  his  belt. 

"  I  would  back  my  men  against  any  shots  in 
the  country,"  said  Keliher,  with  evident  pride. 
"  They  are  all  crack  shots.  Of  course,  they 
might  be  beaten  at  target-shooting,  but  give 
them  a  man  at  five  hundred  yards  and  they 
simply  can't  be  surpassed.  There  isn't  an  outfit 
like  them  in  the  land." 

But  though  Keliher  grows  fluent  when  talking 
about  his  men,  he  has  not  a  word  to  say  about 
himself  if  he  can  help  it. 

"  Oh,  tell  your  readers  about  the  men,"  he 
says.  "They  have  all  got  better  records  than 
myself." 

Not  long  since,  while  the  Rangers  were  riding 
the  line,  word  came  to  Cheyenne  that  an 
attack  had  been  made  by  bandits  at  Wilkin's 
pump-house.  Frank  Utley,  the  night  pump- 
man at  that  station,  had  been  wounded  by 
robbers,   who  had  thrown  a  switch   to  derail  a 


train.  Utley,  however,  had  pluckily  stuck  to  his 
post  and  driven  away  the  robbers.  Thus  the 
report  came  to  Cheyenne,  and  within  thirty 
minutes  the  Rangers' special  was  tearing  through 
the  black  night  past  side-tracked  mail  trains  and 
expresses.  Within  a  few  hours  the  scouts  were 
on  the  ground  and  the  trail  was  being  examined. 
It  did  not  take  the  skilled  searchers  long  to 
discover  that  there  was  something  wrong. 
There  were  no  tracks  of  fleeing  bandits  to  be 
found. 

The    pump-man,    Utley,    seeking    for    ch< 
notoriety,  had   broken   the   switch   himself,  and 
also  shot  himself  in  the  arm!     Cross-examined 
by  Keliher,  he  confessed  as  much. 

But   the  attack  might  have   been  a  genuine 
one,  and  the  promptness  with  which  the  Kan 
reached   the   scene   of  action  from    Cheyenne, 
which  is  nearly  three  hundred  miles  away,  will 
make  bandits  hesitate  at  attacking  a  line  guarded 
by  Tim  Keliher's  Rangers.      It  may  be  set  down 
as    an  accomplished    fact,    therefore,    that    the 
solution   of  the  train-robber  problem   has   I 
reached.     For  no  outlaws,   however  foolhardy, 
would  be  likely  to  attack  when    the  certaim 
capture  or  death  confronted  them. 


o 


/JtfhurP,  h  //i/er. 


From  a  Photo,  by  S.  H.  Parson. 


A  curious  story  told  by  a  veteran  whaler.     How  the  whaling-crew  went  in  search  of  a  whale  they 
had   killed,  only  to  find  the  carcass  in  possession  of   a  dozen  ferocious    Polar  bears !     The  battle- 
royal  that  ensued  was  a  most  exciting  affair. 


ww£< 

N  the  pursuit  of  the  arduous  calling 
of  Arctic  whaling  the  crews  of 
whaling-ships  are  often  called  upon  to 
face  extraordinary  hazards.  Seldom, 
however,  after  killing  their  whale,  are 
they  obliged  to  wrest  their  booty  from  a  troop 
of  ravenous  Polar  bears,  angrily  disputing 
possession  of  their  prize.  The  thrilling  story  of 
such  an  unparalleled  encounter  was  narrated  to 
me  under  the  following  circumstances. 

It  was  a  lovely  evening  in  June  when  we 
swung  clear  of  Port-aux-Basques  Harbour  and, 
catching  a  light  land  breeze,  steered  northwards 
towards  the  coasts  of  Labrador.  Our  craft  was 
a  smart  Nova  Scotia-built  schooner  of  about  a 
hundred  and  fifty  tons,  and  our  crew  were  picked 
from  a  settlement  of  the  nearest  modern  repre- 
sentatives of  the  old  Norsemen  —  the  sturdy 
fishing  folk  of  the  iron-bound  coasts  of  New- 
foundland. I  was  peculiarly  attracted  by  the  first 
mate,  Harry  Jewer,  a  man  still  in  the  prime  of 
life,  with  hard-bitten,  weather-roughened  features, 
yet  with  a  merry  twinkle  in  his  eye  that  bespoke 
a  happy  Hibernian  temperament  and  a  capacity 
for  facing  with  equal  cheerfulness  the  sunshine 
and  the  storm  of  an  adventurous  career.  His 
face  was  tanned  like  leather  with  being  so  often 


set  against  the  blinding  glare  of  sunshine  from 
illimitable  glistening  fields  of  drifting  ice,  and 
deeply  scarred  and  seamed  by  repeated 
scourgings  of  fierce  winds  armed  with  stinging 
ice  fragments,  which  smite  like  the  knotted 
cords  of  cruel  whips. 

•  Notwithstanding  this  hard  and  perilous  mode 
of  life  his  character  had  been  fashioned  into  a 
hearty  admiration  of  the  awful  beauty,  grandeur, 
and  terror  of  the  great  Arctic  solitude.  Pike 
many  others  of  his  class  he  was  captivated  by 
the  fascinating  glamour  which  the  Arctic  casts 
like  a  spell  upon  those  who  have  once 
penetrated  its  mysteries.  An  opportunity  came 
to  listen  to  the  tale  of  his  varied  exploits  when 
suddenly  one  afternoon  the  wind  grew  light,  and 
we  ran  into  a  heavy  smoke-like  bank  of  grey  fog 
which  obscured  all  around  us.  When  at  length 
we  emerged  there  was  no  breath  of  wind.  The 
sun  beat  down  on  a  sea  motionless  and 
becalmed. 

At  this  moment,  to  my  great  delight,  Harry, 
pulling  at  his  blackened  clay  pipe,  tainting  the 
balmy  sea  air  with  pungent  odours,  seated  him- 
self at  my  side  and  told  me  the  following  tale  of 
a  strange  adventure  that  befell  him  in  the  Far 
North  :— 


A  BATTLE  WITH  POLAR  BEARS. 


397 


It  was  in  Lancaster  Sound,  on  board  the  good 
sh\pAurora,  that  I  found  myself  in  the  summer 
of  1896.  We  were  after  "right"  whales,  and 
had  already  taken  five  on  this  voyage.  While 
nearly  all  our  casks  were  full  to  bursting  with  oil, 
we  had  room  to  stow  away  the  blubber  of  yet 
another  carcass.  This  the  crew  were  anxious 
to  accomplish  as  speedily  as  possible,  for  after  a 
nightless  period  the  sun  was  now  beginning  to 
dip  each  day  below  the  horizon  for  a  few  hours 
at  a  stretch,  and  cool  fitful  north-westers  were 
giving  warning  of  the  approach  of  winter.  If 
only  we  could  secure  our  booty  and  turn  our 
course  to  the  south,  "with  the  Newfoundland 
girls  pulling  at  the  tow-rope,"  as  the  saying  is  in 
the  fo'c's'le,  everyone  would  be  happy.  For 
although  the  seafarer,  wherever  you  find  him, 
cannot  remain  content  ashore  for  long,  one  of  the 
greatest  of  all  the  pleasures  of  his  calling  is  the 
return  home  with  a  pocket  full  of  coin  after  a 
successful  voyage. 

A  good  Greenland  or  Arctic  "right  "  whale  is 


sum  to  his  credit,  what  with  wages  and  his  share 
of  the  "  bounty,"  as  the  men's  narrow  percentage 
of  interest  in  the  net  profits  is  termed. 

"  There  she  blows  !  "  All  hearts  fairly  throbbc  1 
for  joy  as  the  look-out  from  the  "  crow's-nest " 
cheerily  shouted  the  glad  news  of  an  enorrn 
"  right  "  whale  sighted  against  the  sun  in  the 
offing.  Blithely  the  ropes  sang  out  through  the 
tackle-blocks  while  the  men  took  their  places, 
and  as  the  little  flotilla  of  boats  darted  away 
with  alacrity  from  the  black  sides  of  the  great 
ship,  like  so  many  arrows  shot  from  a  bow,  .1 
strange  gleam  came  into  the  men's  eyes,  and 
their  bronzed  faces  relaxed  in  a  smile  as  if  they 
already  anticipated  their  triumph. 

They  made  towards  a  spot  where  at  intervals 
of  from  ten  to  fifteen  minutes  a  white  column  ol 
spray  was  seen  to  shoot  high  in  the  air  from  the 
extremity  of  a  black  rolling  mass  which  glitt' 
in  the  sun's  rays  like  wet  indiarubber.  My  boat 
led,  and  all  hands  gave  me  a  cheer  when  I 
threw  the  harpoon,    which   with  a   heavy   thud 


■\<TL 

"ALL   HANDS   GAVE    ME    A    CHEER    WHEN    I    THREW    THE    HARPOON." 


worth  a  lot  of  money.  "  Right  "  whales  are  those 
producing  whalebone,  and  a  good  specimen  is 
worth  at  least  six  hundred  to  seven  hundred 
pounds.  There  are  other  large  whales  which 
we  let  alone— the  "  finners  "  or  rorquals,  and  even 
the  giant  "blue  whales,"  as  the  biggest  ot  them 
are  not  worth  one-tenth  part  the  value  of  the 
"right"  whale.  Of  late  these  valuable  prizes, 
as  well  as  the  ."  sperm  "  whale,  are  getting  scarce, 
but  in  those  days  they  were  abundant.  Each 
man  was  sure  to  come  home  with  a  snug  little 


embedded  itself  deeply  behind  the  huge  cen 
fin  of  the  mighty  whale.     Those  were  the  ' 
old  days"  of  whaling,  before  the  craft  was  made 
comparatively  easy  by  modern  methods  ;  b< 
the  days  of  the  fast  steamship  armed   with  the 
latal   "  harpoon  gun." 

After  the  stroke  the  whale  suddenly  I 
away  from  the  boats,  sent  up  an  enormous  jet 
of  water  and  blood  some  twenty  feet  in  the  air, 
lashed    the    water    into    foam    with    a   terrible 
flurry  of  his  gigantic  tail,  and   then  suddenly 


39* 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


dipped  beneath  the  surface  of  the  ocean.  To 
such  a  vast  depth  did  he  plunge  in  his  agony  of 
pain  and  fright  that  two  boats  were  compelled 
to  join  their  lines  to  ours  ;  and  three  times  he 
dived,  staying  under  nearly  twenty  minutes  on 
each  occasion,  before  we  could  get  near  enough 
to  lance  him  in  a  vital  part.  Unfortunately,  as 
he  sped  away  he  drew  on  the  boats  towards  a 
large  field  of  ice  known  to  be  in  the  v  cinity 
before  it  was  actually  sighted,  because  of  the 
extraordinary  coldness  pervading  the  atmo- 
•sphere. 

As  the  custom  is  with  a  wounded  whale,  he 
made  to  get  under  the  ice  in  hot  haste.     The 


no  longer  follow  him  beyond  the  edge  of 
the  ice-field,  the  order  was  reluctantly  given 
to  cut  the  line,  abandon  the  prize,  and  return 
to  the  ship.  Very  keen  was  the  disappointment 
of  the  men.  Here  was  a  fine  whale  "gone  to 
the  deuce  "  !  Gone  too,  cut  clean  away  from  the 
grasp  of  the  men,  was  half  a  ton  of  good  whale- 
bone. However,  there  was  a  feeling  pervading 
the  fo'c's'le  all  that  evening  that  I  would  not 
yet  give  up,  but  would  organize  a  search  party, 
and  each  man  hoped  that  he  might  be  one  of 
those  chosen  to  go  out  to  try  and  retrieve  the 
lost  booty. 

On  the  morning  following,  after  thinking  the 


HARRY    JEWER, 
From  a] 


OF     NEWFOUNDLAND,    WHO     RELATED 
THE   AUTHOR. 


EXPERIENCES    TO 

[Photo. 


only  chance  for  success  was  to  finish  him  before 
he  disappeared  beneath  the  floe.  He  would  have 
to  come  up  once  more  to  breathe  before  he  could 
dive  beneath  the  ice-floor,  and  we  got  ready  to 
dispatch  him.  Soon  the  line  began  to  grow 
slack,  and  up,  up  he  came  with  startling  speed. 
For  a  few  minutes  there  was  an  awful  flurry  on 
the  surface,  while  our  boat  became  entirely 
obscured  by  the  flying  spume.  The  creature 
had  been  pierced  with  lances  until  the  water 
was  reddened  with  blood,  yet  so  padded  with 
fat  was  he  after  his  summer's  gorging  on 
herrings  that  the  lances  failed  to  reach  a 
vital  organ.  To  our  great  chagrin  he  dived 
under  the   ice,   and,   as  the   boats   could    now 


matter  over,  I  decided  that  the  whale  must  be 
dead,  as  the  lances  had  been  driven  well  home, 
and  had  drawn  so  much  blood.  Thereupon  I 
picked  out  six  of  the  best  men  on  board  to  help 
me  hunt  for  the  carcass.  Two  rifles  were  stowed 
in  the  boat,  and  enough  biscuit  to  last  the  seven 
of  us  for  a  couple  of  days. 

All  day  the  men  rowed  hard,  while  I  swept 
the  sea  with  my  glasses.  The  vast  ice-floe  had 
slowly  drifted  southward,  and  it  was  a  long  time 
ere  we  came  up  with  it,  which  we  did  towards 
nightfall.  In  the  clear  water  behind  its  wake 
we  made  out  an  island  of  black  rock  fringed 
with  a  wide  tawny  sand  beach,  and  soon  we 
sighted  something  unusual  on  a  yellow  bar  that 


A  BATTLE  WITH  POLAR  B£ARS. 


399 


ran  far  out  from  the  island  among  the  beating 
waves.  Presently,  to  our  great  joy,  it  revealed 
itself  as  the  stranded  body  of  the  dead  whale. 

The  men  were  delighted  at  the  prospect  of 
recovering  the  valuable  whalebone,  for  here  was 
prize  enough  even  if  it  became  necessary  to 
abandon  the  blubber. 

That  night  we  camped  in  a  sheltered  cove  of 
the  island,  and  needed  no  rocking,  for  we  were 
tired  out  after  our  long  pull.  What  was  our 
astonishment  next  morning  when  we  found  our 
prize  in  possession  of  a  company  of  Polar  bears  ! 


sand-spit  where  lay  the  stranded  body  of  the 
whale.  The  feeding  bears  had  apparently  scented 
battle  from  afar,  for  two  of  th  k    to 

the  water  and   swam  far  out  towards  tin-  boat 
These     became    an     easy    prey,   for   they   v. 
dispatched  while  swimming  alongside  ;  hut  there- 
still  remained  ten,   and  of  these   ten,  h 
indeed    formidable    monsters.     Seeing   the 
of   their   companions,   the    remainder  of   those 
which   had   entered  the  water   returned   to 
beach.    Live  lined  up  in  front  of  the  whal 
the  other  five,  including  the  two  shi  with 


WE    FOUND   OUR    PRIZE    IN    THE    POSSESSION    OK    A   COMPANY   OF    POLAR    BEARS. 


There  were  a  round  dozen  of  them — not  to 
speak  of  a  couple  of  yearling  cubs  which  kept 
close  to  their  dams — all  fighting,  snarling,  and 
tearing  at  the  flesh  of  the  whale.  It  was  evident 
that  a  pitched  battle  would  be  necessary  to 
decide  whether  the  carcass  belonged  to  us  who 
had  killed  the  whale  or  to  the  bears  who  were 
now  in  full  possession.  Bigger  than  grizzlies,  at 
times  rearing  to  their  full  height  as  dancing 
bears  are  trained  to  do,  the  monsters  before  us 
bore  out  the  reputation  of  Lancaster  Sound  for 
its  extremely  large  breed  of  bears,  noted  for 
their  ravenous  propensities  and  extreme  daring 
and  ferocity. 

It  was  at  the  ebb  of  the  tide—  dead  low  water 
— when  we  decided  to  make  our  attack.  The 
boat  was  brought  round  and  headed  towards  the 


their  cubs,  fell  to  the  rear  of  the  carcass- 
exactly  like  a  fighting  corps  held  in  reserve. 
The  receding  title  had  left  a  broad  border  of 
shelving  sand,  so  that  when  our  party  landed 
we  were  still  some  sixty  yards  from  the  front 
squad  of  bears. 

A   trusted   shot  at  one  end  of  the   line  and 
nivself   at    the    other   were  armed   each   with  a 
rifle    and    had    fifty    round*    of    ball    cat 
between  us.     The   other   men    ■■  [uipped 

with  long  whalers'  lances.     I  opened  the  conflict 
by    dropping    on     my    right     knee     and    tal< 
deliberate  aim  at  th  -t  'near.      I 

moment's  pause.     Then  came  the  sharp  report 
of   the    rifle    followed    by    an    ai  r.    and 

through    the    smoke    the    bear,    only    slightly 
wounded,  made  a  rush  at   us.     The  spear-men 


400 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


promptly  fell  back,  but  the  other  rifleman  knelt 
down  with  great  coolness  and  discharged  his 
gun  at  the  furious  animal.  Again,  however,  the 
wound  was  not  fatal.  Springing  to  his  feet  the 
man  made  a  lunge  at  the  infuriated  bear  with 
his  empty  gun,  but  with  a  swift  blow  the  great 
brute  sent  the  rifle  flying  in  the  air,  and  with 
another  laid  low  the  unfortunate  sailor.  The 
fore-paws  of  the  bear  were  laid  on  the  shoulders 
of  the  prostrate  man  and  the  hind  feet  were 
being  brought  to  bear  with  repeated  efforts  to 
rip  his  tough  tarpaulin-jacket,  when,  carried 
away  by  my  excitement,  I   rushed  up  and,  with 


monsters  in  the  front  rank  did  not  seem  much 
inclined  to  take  the  aggressive. 

All  wild  beasts,  however,  w'll  usually  forget 
their  fear  of  man  on  three  occasions  :  at  mating 
time,  when  their  young  are  in  danger,  and  when 
their  food  is  threatened.  There  was  nothing  for 
it,  therefore,  but  to  keep  blazing  away  at  the 
front  guard  until  all  were  wounded.  Finally,  I 
ordered  an  advance  of  my  little  force,  whereupon 
the  disconcerted  animals  suddenly  broke  and 
fled,  carrying  away  the  rear  line  in  their  retreat. 
The  bears  were  utterly  routed. 

We  were  now  kept  busy  for  hours  in  skinning 


HHH 


r,    I    RUSHED    UP.' 


the  muzzle  of  my  gun  held  almost  at  the  ear  of 
the  savage  beast,  literally  blew  its  head  to  frag- 
ments. Unmindful  of  a  few  hurts  and  a  stream 
of  blood  trickling  from  his  face  and  neck,  the 
fallen  man,  to  our  amazement,  jumped  to  his 
feet  and,  apparently  half-crazed  by  his  recent 
mauling,  performed  something  very  like  a  war- 
dance  on  the  dead  body  of  his  late  assailant. 

The  bears  now  appeared  to  be  somewhat 
cowed  by  the  death  of  their  comrades.  The 
reserve  line  was  weakened  by  the  desertion  of 
the  two  she-bears  with  their  cubs,  and  the  four 


the  slain  bears  and  in  cutting  out  the  whalebone 
from  the  jaws  of  the  prize.  Then,  well  satisfied 
with  our  work,  we  loaded  down  the  boat  with 
our  spoils  and  proceeded  on  our  way  to  rejoin 
the  ship.  But  our  perils  were  not  yet  over.  A 
breeze  sprang  up  which  rapidly  developed  into  a 
gale,  accompanied  by  blinding  sleet  and  snow 
showers,  until  our  position  grew  hazardous  in 
the  extreme.  Great  white-capped  waves  broke 
over  the  heavy-laden  boat,  and  we  were  kept 
incessantly  occupied  baling  out  the  water. 
Nevertheless  we  rowed  on  doggedly  for  hours, 


A  BATTLE  WITH  POLAR  BEARS. 


401 


until  at  length  our  wrists  grew  swollen,  and 
it  really  seemed  as  if  out  of  the  peril  of  the 
bears  we  had  rushed  into  a  greater  danger  still. 
Fainter  and  fainter  grew  our  hopes  of  safety,  as 
the  gale  rose  and  the  billows  rushed  past  madly, 
driven  to  fury  by  • 
the  scourging 
blasts. 

Suddenly, 
through  a  rift  in 
the  driving  storm- 
clouds  the  awful 
form  of  a  tower- 
ing iceberg  was 
seen,  rearing  its 
glistening  columns 
against  the  dull 
greyness  of  the 
snow  -darkened 
sky.  The  weather- 
side  of  the  iceberg 
received  the  full 
shock  of  the  long, 
grey-green  rollers 
as  they  swung  up 
and  broke  again 
and  again  over 
its  shelving  icy 
strand,  while  the 
steep  lee-side, 
sinking  sheer  into 
the  ocean  depths, 
kept  the  water 
there  as  calm  as 
some  landlocked 
harbour.  Quickly 
we  seized  the 
proffered  oppor- 
tunity. By  hercu- 
lean efforts  the 
boat  was  brought 
up    against   the 

full  force  of  opposing  wind  and  tide,  and 
safely  steered  to  the  lee-side  of  the  iceberg. 
Then  the  ice-anchor  was  got  out  and  she 
was  made  fast  to  the  giant  berg.  The  next 
danger  which  confronted  us  was  that  in  the 
long  wait  we  might  perish  of  cold.  There 
was  coffee  aboard  and  fresh  water,  but  how 
were  we  to  manage  for  fuel  and  cooking 
utensils  ?  I  thought  for  a  moment,  and  then 
ordered  the  men  to  pare  off  wood  shavings 
from     the    thwarts,    flooring,    and    gunwale     of 


"  THE    BOAT    WAS    STEERED   TO    THE    LEE-SIDE    OK    THE    ICEBEKG. 


the  boat  until  we  coll 

of     fuel.         For  we     ; 

bottom    of    a    large    kettle,    1  i],-r 

one  over  the  fire.     Soon  ■ 

round  a  draught   of  straining  ho 

w  o  n  (1  er f u  1 1  v 
•>  u  r 
>pints.      This 
■  '  repeated     tow 

the  break  of  d 
Thi  n    the    st< 
gradually    sub- 
sided,   and 
knew    that    the 
danger   was   over. 
Once    more    we 
steered  our  cc 
to    the    ship,   and 
finally     arrived 
safely  with  the  rich 
prize  of  whalebone 
which  had  cost  us 
so    much     labour 
and  peril. 

Some  of  the 
rest  of  the  crew 
were  anxious  to 
be  allowed  to 
visit  the  derelict 
carcass  for  another 
bear-hunt,  but  the 
[)  t  a  i  n  w  a  s 
known  to  hold 
white  bears  in 
high  respect,  and 
it  surprised  no- 
body when  he 
announced  his 
immediate  inten- 
tion of  proceeding 
homewards. 
And  so  the  ship's 
course  was  set  towards  the  Straits  of  Belleisle, 
where,  like  a  jagged  tooth  gnawing  at  the 
Arctic  current,  the  Island  ol  Newfoundland 
rears  its  rocky  bastions  out  of  the  cold,  ice- 
laden  seas. 

'   The    snow-white    skin  of  one  of  the 
of   the    bears    now    decorates    the    little    front 
parlour  of   my  cabin,  and  furnishes  an 
for    a    frequent    revival    of    the    stow    of    the 
battle  between  a  boat's  crew  and 
bears. 


Vol 


3i 


My  Experiences  at  "King   Solomons   Mines." 

By  R.  N.   Hall,  F.R.G.S. 

During  the  last  two  years  the  author  has  been  investigating  the  mysterious  buried  city  of  Great 
Zimbabwe  in  Mashonaland,  the  home  of  Mr.  Rider  Haggard's  "  She."  For  centuries  this  remarkable 
place  was  entirely  lost  sight  of,  but  recent  discoveries  tend  to  show  that  the  Great  Zimbabwe, 
with  its  three-thousand-year-old  ruins,  may  possibly  be  the  site  of  the  golden  Ophir  of  King 
Solomon.  Mr.  Hall  illustrates  his  interesting  narrative — specially  written  for  "  The  Wide  World 
Magazine"  —  with    some    striking    photographs    of  the    wonderful    buildings    brought    to    light   in   the 

course  of  his  investigations. 


I. 


EYOND  the  farthest  outposts  of 
civilization,  situate  in  the  wilds  of 
South-East  Africa  two  hundred  and 
fifty  miles  inland,  west  of  the  ancient 
port  of  Sofala,  on  the  shore  of  the 
Indian  Ocean,  lies  a  region  of  mystery  and 
romance.  This  territory  is  inhabited  by  a 
teeming  population  of  the  Makalanga,  or 
"  People  of  the  Sun,"  a  race  peculiar  among 
South  African  peoples  on  account  of  possessing 
lighter,  skins  and  greater  intelligence,  and 
practising  distinctly  Jewish  customs. 

At  the  Great  Zimbabwe  are  the  ruined 
remains  of  ancient  Phallic  temples  and  forts, 
and   a  buried  city   of   vast  extent,    the   oldest 


portions  being  believed  to  have  been  built  more 
than  three  thousand  years  ago. 

This  dead  city- — the  site  of  which  is  shown  in 
my  first  photograph — was  evidently  the  capital 
town  of  those  ancients  who  mined  so  exten- 
sively and  so  successfully  for  gold  throughout 
the  country  lying  between  the  Zambesi  and 
Crocodile  rivers,  an  area  of  at  least  one  hundred 
and  fifteen  thousand  square  miles. 

The  writer  resided  at  Zimbabwe  for  over  two 
years  while  exploring  these  ruins,  which  repre- 
sent the  civilization  of  a  bygone  age,  the  very 
existence  of  which  the  world  had,  until  1866, 
entirely  forgotten.  These  are  the  ruins  of  the 
"dead  city"  mentioned  in  Rider  Haggard's  "She." 


THE    SITE   OF   THE   MYSTERIOUS   BURIED   CITY, 


[P/ioto. 


4°3 


MY    EXPERIENCES    AT    "KING    SOLOMONS    MINES." 

these    ruins    pre 


The  existence  of  these 
ancient  monumental  remains 
so  far  inland  from  the  coast 
was  at  first  considered  by 
scientists  as  dubious,  if  not 
impossible.  But  fact  is  very 
often  stranger  than  fiction, 
and  to-day  these  old-world 
ruins  are  recognised  by  many 
leading  authorities  as  belong- 
ing to  the  world-power  empire 
of  the  Saba  of  South  Arabia 
— that  "  Sheba  "  which,  ac- 
cording to  the  Scriptures  and 
other  ancient  authorities,  sup- 
plied vast  quantities  of  gold 
to  the  then-known  world  be- 
fore, during,  and  after  the 
time  of  King  Solomon. 

Amid  these  wonderful  pre- 
historic remains,  so  strangely 
fascinating  to  those  who  visit 
Zimbabwe,  is  situated  Havi- 
lah  Camp,  seen  in  the  follow- 
ing photograph.  I  gave  it 
this  name  after  the  Havilah 
of  Genesis,  which  mentions 
"  Havilah,  where  there  is 
gold  .  .  .  and  the  gold 
good." 

At  Havilah  Camp  the  writer  led  for  over  two 
years  a  lonely  life — striving,  if  possible,  to  dis- 
cover the  key  for  the   solution   of  the   enigma 


THE    AU'I'HOK,    MR.     K.     N.     HAI.I.,   F.R.G.S.,   WHO    FOR 

THE   LAST   TWO    YEARS    HAS    BEEN     INVESTIGATING 

THE    BURIED   CITY   OF   GREAT   ZIMBABWE. 

Prom  a  Photo  by  Lafayette. 


of    that   land   is 


which 
sent' 

It  was  a  life  of  complete 
reparation  hum  civilizatii  n, 
in  the  heart  of  a  madding 
crowd  of  Makalanga.  At 
times  I  only  saw  a  white 
face  once  in  three  months. 
Iii  the  way  of  food  I  sub 
sisted  mainly  on  1)  uck, 
guinea  -  fowl,  and  bu  itard, 
and  an  occasional  sheep  01 
goat.  The  camp  was 
literally  at  "  the  back  of 
beyond." 

But  isolation  may  have 
its  compensations,  and,  de- 
spite its  many  inconveni- 
ences and  daily  alarms  and 
the  constant  dangers  from 
lurking  beast  or  insidious 
fevers  which  rise  from  the 
ten -foot  grass  in  the  Zim- 
babwe valleys,  I  have  the 
satisfaction  of  realizing  that 
by  my  prolonged  stay  at  this 
strange  dead  city  the  cause 
of  scientific  research  into  tin- 
mystery  of  these  most  interesting  ruins  maj 
have  been  considerably  advanced. 

Havilah  Camp  is  an  ideal  spot  for  the  poet 
and  painter  and  lover  of  romance.  Perched  on 
a  rocky  granite  knoll,  its  native  huts  command  a 


Prom  a  J  HAVILAH    CAMP,    THE   AUTHORS    HEAD-QUARTERS,    SHOWING    I'HI 


404 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


magnificent  view  of  the  ruined  city  amid  which 
the  camp  is  situated.  It  lies  half-way  between 
the  old  Phallic  temple  on  the  plain  and  the 
Acropolis  ruins  on  Zimbabwe  Hill,  which  latter, 
with  its  cliff  passages  and  caves,  was  the  residence 
of  Rider  Haggard's  "  She."  From  the  camp  can 
be  seen  the  chaotic  and  partially-buried  "Valley 
of  Ruins,"  extending  for  a  mile  towards  the  east, 
where  the  two  bald  and  black  rounded  hills 
known  as  "  Sheba's  Breasts"  form  the  sky-lined 
background  of  the  view. 

Here  some  fifty  naked  Makalanga  labourers 
employed  on  the  excavation  work,  all  as 
voluble  as  parrots,  are  indulging  in  conversation 
at  the  tops  of  their 
voices.  Happy  as 
the  day  is  long, 
bursting  with  keen 
humour,  these 
"  People  of  the 
Sun  "  dance  and 
sing,  yell  and 
caterwaul,  like 
bo,s  let  out  of 
school.  But  at  a 
word  from  their 
baba  they  are  as 
quiet  as  the 
meekest  of  chil- 
dren. Havilah 
Camp  is  the 
noisiest  place  out- 
side Bedlam  when 
the  "  boys  "  are  in 
residence. 

Taking  the 
"  boys  "  altogether 
they  are  a  fine 
type  of  humanity. 
At  least  ten  of 
them  are  six  feet 
in  height,  and  a 
few  even  over. 
Holding  them- 
selves well  up,  they 
are  as  straight  as 
arrows  and  athletic 
in  :orm,and  though 
not    possessing    a 

superabundance  of  flesh  they  are  well-shaped 
and  pleasant-faced,  while  many  are  decidedly 
handsome. 

These  "  boys  "  when  working  will  in  a  day 
do  about  as  much  work  as  a  quarter  of  the  same 
number  of  English  labourers.  They  are  in- 
clined to  be  industrious  when  the  baba  (master) 
is  in  sight,  but  they  immediately  drop  down  on 
their  haunches  with  knees  up  the  moment  his 
back   is    turned.      This    is   a   moral   certainty. 


A    MASSIVE    WALL    BUII.T   ON 
From  a 


Then  singing  ceases,  for  when  at  work  they  are 
always  singing.  Any  excuse  for  a  passing 
diversion  is  immediately  seized  upon.  On  a 
shout  of  " Inyoga  I "  (snake)  they  drop  their 
tools  at  once,  seize  their  knobkerries,  and  jump 
into  the  jungle,  heedless  for  the  time  being  of 
thorns  and  creepers.  In  respect  of  snakes  they 
are  certainly  not  cowards.  Inside  the  bush  a 
perfect  pandemonium  is  going  on,  which  never 
ceases  till  the  snake,  generally  a  python  or  a 
black  mamba,  has  either  been  slain  or  has 
escaped  into  some  pile  of  ancient  blocks. 

One   day,    after   a    brief    absence    from    the 
temple,   I    found  that  about  forty  women  and 

girls  from  the 
neighbouring  vil- 
lage had  arrived 
in  the  temple  to 
watch  their  sons, 
brot  hers,  and 
s  wee  thearts  at 
work.  This  they 
frequently  do. 
The  "  boys "  on 
this  occasion,  be- 
lieving the  baba 
to  be  farther 
off  than  he 
really  was,  were 
chasing  the  dusky 
Cleopatras  up 
and  down  the 
parallel  pas- 
sages, in  and  out 
of  the  inner 
enclosures,  and 
dodging  them 
round  the  base 
of  the  sacred 
tower. 

One  burly  Juno- 
esque  lady  was 
having  a  most 
deli  rious  and 
frantic  ride  round 
the  temple  courts 
in  our  only  wheel- 
barrow, which  is 
an  iron  one.  As 
the  barrow  bumped  along  at  full  tilt  against 
the  loose  stones  it  would  each  time  shake 
her  up  terribly.  The  shrieking,  screaming, 
and  laughter  of  the  women  and  the  yelling 
of  the  "  boys  "  made  the  temple  ring  with  a 
noise  sufficient  to  make  the  priests  of  the 
ancient  Phallic  cult  writhe  in  their  graves  with 
horror. 

Then  baba  appeared,  and    in  thirty  seconds 
these  "  boys  "  were  all  hard  at  work,  with  most 


THE    EDGE   OF    A    PRECIPICE. 
Photo. 


MY    EXPERIENCES    AT    "KING    SOLOMONS    MINES 


405 


accompanied    by  one   of   his  tall    " 
keeping  an  eye  open   for  buck  and  guii 
fowl  for  the  pot,  and  in  the  early  mi 
or  evenings   this  occupation  invariably  ] 
vided  some  excitement.     The  hills  round 
Zimbabwe  swarm  with   leopards  and  wild 
cats,  and  it  is  dangerous  to  entei 
on    the    hillsides    with. ait     being     armed. 
Leopards  are  frequently  killed  and  brou 
into  Havilah  Camp. 

One  day  v.  hen  the  writer  was  out  with 
two  of  his  swarthy  attendants  he  was  push 
ing  his  way  through  the  ten-foot  grass  ol 
Zimbabwe,  when  he  saw  a  very  fine  leo- 
pard basking  on  a  rock.  The  animal  was 
lying  extended  on  its  side,  but  with  its 
head  raised,  to  see  who  was  approaching. 
The  boys  saw  the  animal  over  the  writer's 
shoulders,  and,  as  there  was  no  rifle,  fled, 
with  the  baba  close  behind  them.  A  knob- 
kerry  would  have  been  absolutely  ineffectual 
for'defence. 

Lions  are  numerous  in  this  part  of  the 


ONE      OF     THE    CURIOUS     SUNKEN     PASSAGES     IN 

THE     RUINS.  VISITORS     OFTEN     GET     LOST     IN 

THEIR    LABYRINTHINE   WINDINGS. 

From  a  Photo. 


pious  looks  on  their  faces,  and 
singing  a  well  -  known  mission 
hymn. 

But  the  cooking-pots  are  now 
emptied  of  rapoka  porridge,  and 
Kumuri,  the  camp  watchman,  a 
young  Anak  for  stature,  and  the 
arch-jokist  of  the  crowd,  sounds 
the  camp  gong  for  return  to  work, 
and  immediately  they  are  all  off 
to  the  nearest  pond  to  wash  their 
teeth.  This  is  an  operation  most 
religiously  performed  and  never 
missed.  To.  hurry  them  back  to 
work  before  their  teeth  had  been 
cleaned  would  cause  them  to  re- 
gard the  baba  with  looks  of  genuine 
concern. 

At  sundown,  when  work  is  over, 
the  whole  fifty  boys  will  together 
plunge  in  the  pool  and  swim  like 
fishes,  waking  up  the  cliffs  with 
their  healthy  merriment. 

The  writer  usually  wandered 
among  the  kopjes  and  the  Sindbad- 
like  gorges  of  the  neighbourhood, 


THE   REMAINS  OF  THE  GREAT  STAIRCAM 

from  a  Photo. 


WESTERN    TEMI'LF. 


406 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


rHIi   GREAT   WESTERN'    TEMPLE. 


country,  but  have  given  no  trouble  at  Havilah 
Camp.  On  the  Livouri  Hills,  six  miles  from 
Zimbabwe,  they  are  always  to  be  found.  The 
writer  has  experienced  no  encounters  with  lions, 
but  several  times  he  has  been  in  their  immedi- 
ate vicinity.  He  saw  on  one  occasion  a  male 
lion  at  two  hundred  yards  distance,  but  being 
midday  it  jogged  itself  out  of  sight  in  the  tall 
grass. 

African  lions  when  seen  on  the  prowl  are 
altogether  different  to  their  kinsmen  at  the 
Zoological  Gardens.  When  seen  in  their  wild 
state  their  manes  are  shorter  and  more  tangled, 
owing  to  brambles  and  thorns  tearing  them. 

Quite  recently  lions  have  killed  donkeys  and 
goats  close  to  Zimbabwe.  Once,  when  the  writer 
was  taking  a  short  stroll  near  the  camp  by  him- 
self, he  found  on  his  way  back  that  lion  spoor 
had  crossed  his  footmarks  while  he  was  on  the 
path.  Lions  are  sometimes,  but  not  frequently, 
heard  at  night  from  the  camp,  barking  sharply 


while  hunting  up  buck  against  the 
wind.  On  some  trees  near  Zim- 
babwe are  the  marks  of  lions'  claws 
scratched  on  the  wood  six  feet  from 
the  ground,  evidently  made  while 
the  animals  were  stretching 
themselves  and  sharpening  their 
claws. 

Baboons  are  a  veritable  nuisance 
at  Zimbabwe.  These  are  huge 
animals.  They  constantly  visited 
the  camp  at  night,  stealing  mealie 
cobs,  and  making  hideous,  wailing 
noises  outside  the  hut  doors  which 
they  have  endeavoured  to  shake 
open.  These  baboons  live  on 
Zimbabwe  Hill,  and  can  often  be 
seen  gambolling  on  the  cliffs  over- 
looking the  camp.  So  often  do 
they  parade  backward  and  forward 
on  the  hill  that  they  have  made 
several  baboon  paths. 

There  are  trees  in  the  valley 
which  show  signs  of  having  been 
bent  by  elephants.  Part  of  the 
skeleton  of  a  giraffe  was  found 
close  to  Zimbabwe.  Ostriches 
occasionally  visit  the  valley. 
Crocodiles  abound  in  the  Umsha- 
gashi  River  four  miles  away. 
Hyaenas  and  jackals  make  hideous 
noises  at  night. 

But  we  must  away  to  visit  the 
Acropolis  ruins  on  Zimbabwe  Hill, 
some  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet 
above  Havilah  Camp,  and  inspect 
the  reputed  residence  of  "  She- 
who-must-be-obeyed." 
Here  are  both  natural  and  built  passages 
running  between  perpendicular  cliffs,  and  these 
are  so  numerous,  so  tortuous  and  intricate,  that 
visitors  have  been  lost  in  them,  and  have  had 
to  be  rescued  by  search-parties  of  natives.  So 
labyrinthine  and  mystifying  are  these  ruins  that 
but  very  few  of  the  occasional  visitors  to  Zim- 
babwe ever  see  the  whole  of  them.  Sunken 
passages  are  a  feature  to  be  wondered  at.  A 
very  good  specimen  of  one  of  these  curious 
winding  ways  is  shown  on  the  preceding 
page. 

Leaving  Havilah  Camp  we  cross  the  outspan 
and  pass  through  the  gateway  of  the  outspan 
ruins,  which  formed  a  strongly  defended 
entrance  through  the  inner  defence  wall  sur- 
rounding the  base  of  the  hill.  This  wall  can  be 
traced  for  several  hundreds  of  yards  in  either 
direction.  From  this  point  the  hill  rises  very 
sharply  to  one  hundred  feet,  at  which  level  is 
the    base  of  a  line  of  cliffs  of  smooth  granite 


[Photo. 


MY    EXPERIENCES    AT    "KING    SOLOMON'S    MI\ 


407 


which  rise  to  the  height  of  another  ninety  feet. 
At  the  base  of  the  cliffs  is  a  passage  with  side 
walls,  and  also  in  some  places  steps.  This 
passage  turns  at  several  points  and  rises  steeply, 
each  rocky  'vantage  spot  having  been  utilized 
to  secure  an  ascent.  This  passage  at  last  termi- 
nates in  a  fissure  of  the  cliffs,  which  fissure  is 
about  shoulders  wide,  and  by  means  of  this  long 
rock  passage  the  cliff  is  scaled  and  the  great 
western  temple  on  the  hill  is  reached. 

Looking  back  here  one  gains  a  view  of  in- 
describable loveliness  unmatched  by  any  other 
view  in  Rhodesia.  In  the  valley  below  the 
venerable  grey 
walls  of  the  great 
elliptical  temple 
rise  out  of  luxuri- 
antly green  vege- 
tation. So  much 
below  the  Acropo- 
lis cliffs  is  this 
temple  that  one 
sees  over  its 
broken  north  walls 
into  the  interior 
and  on  to  the 
floors  of  some  of 
the  enclosures, 
and  at  its  eastern 
end  one  notices 
the  summit  of  the 
conical  tower 
peeping  out  from 
among  the  giant 
fig  trees  that 
flourish  in  the  in- 
terior  of  the 
building.  At  this 
distance  the  white 
monoliths  along 
the  summit  of  the 
eastern  wall, 
though  dearly  de- 
fined against  the 
dark  foliage,  :eem 
dwarfed. 

In    almost    the 
same  line  of  view, 

but  slightly  eastwards  and  nearer,  is  the  mys- 
terious "  Valley  of  Ruins,"  full  of  complicated 
buildings  and  intricate  passages,  some  passages 
being  below  the  level  of  the  ground.  The  general 
view  is  bounded  by  £  sea  of  fantastically-shaped 
ranges  of  hills,  with  frowning  cliffs  and  deep 
gorges  flanked  by  immense  crags  of  rock. 


TWO   MONOLITHS  ON   THE   PLATFORM    OF    THE   ACROPOLIS    RUINS. 

From  a.  Plioto. 


At    this    spot,    after   sundown   one    <_••. 
I  heard,    as  I  thought,  the  heartrendin 
of  one  of  my  young  men,  who  I   believi 
being  strangled.      Startled,  I   ran  down  a  c 
passage  which  was  wrapped  in  sepuli  hral  gloom. 
Finding  no  one   there,   I  hurried  at  full  sp< 
along  another  dark  alley-way,  and  so  on  down  a 
farther  passage.      Still,   however,   I    could    find 
no  one,   although  the  weird  wailing  continued. 
At    last    I    spied    a    large    baboon    sitting   on 
a    wall    close    to    me,    and    the    mystery 
explained.     Baboons    utter   <  pecially  in 

the    evening,   just    like    those   women    or    I 

would  make  v. 
they      being 
strangled. 

In  the  soft  twi- 
light of  a  glorious 
late    afternoon, 
when  calm  broods 
over    all,    a    | 
found  solitude  and 
stillness       enwrap 
the     Acropolis 
ruins.        The 
temple  courts 
empty.      The   tall 
monoliths  —  two 
good  specimens  of 
which     are     here 
depicted — 1  ik  e 
ghostly    sentinels, 
point  upwards  to 
the  sky,    and    the 
sunlight  is  fading 
on     the     massive 
walls,  once   teem- 
ing  with   a   d< 
and    busy     popu- 
lation  of   Semitic 
colonists    of    pre- 
historic   times. 
The  winding  w 
and    buildii 
with     their    in- 
numerable   evi- 
dences of   Phallic 
worship     and 
tensive  gold-smelting   operations,  ai 
as   the   grave.     The  cry   of  a   baboon    or   the 
scream    of    an    eagle    returning    to    its    e 
high    up    on    the     cliffs     of    the 
alone   breaks    the  impressive  sil 
these  great   archaeological  wonders  of  a    1< 
dead  past. 


(To  be  concluded.) 


THE    MAJESTY    OF    THE    LAW. 

By  W.  G.  Bissell,  County  Attorney,  Phillipsburg,  Kansas. 

A  quaint  story  from  Kansas,  describing  the  ludicrous  events  which  happened  in  a  little  county 
town  one  October  afternoon ;  the  adventures  that  befell  the  mayor,  the  marshal,  and  the  magistrate  ; 
and   the   ridiculous  position  in  which  all   the   parties   were    finally  placed  owing  to  the  anomalous 

administration  of  the  Prohibition  laws  of  the  State. 


OME  five  or  six  years  ago  there 
occurred  in  a  little  Western  Kansas 
County  town  in  which  I  was  then 
residing  an  extraordinary  comedy- 
drama,  which  I  have  attempted  to 
set  forth  in  the  following  pages. 

At  the  time  to  which  I  refer  the  destinies 
of  this  particular  village — for  it  was  in  reality 
nothing  more — were  presided  over  by  a  mayor 
of  ample  proportions,  who  was  also  the  pro- 
prietor of  the  local  dance-hall  and  opera-house, 
as  well  as  a  number  of  racehorses.  He  was 
a  man  who  had  been  a  plainsman  and  pur- 
veyor to  the  public  thirst  in  the  days  when 
Kansas  was  the  rendezvous  of  the  "  bad  man 
with  a  gun,"  and  his  gigantic  size  and  fierce 
scowl  had  pulled  him  through  many  a  tight 
place. 

The  gentleman  who  wore  the  seven-pointed 
star  upon  which  were  engraved  the  potent  words, 
"Town  Marshal,"  was  a  little  man  of  about 
sixty,  who  had  had  the  distinction  of  having, 
alone  and  single- 
handed,  chased 
the  cows  of  a 
future  Speaker 
of  the  Kansas 
House  of  Repre- 
sentatives for  a 
hundred  odd 
miles  over  the 
prairie  and  at 
the  point  of  his 
six-shooter  com- 
pelled the  future 
legislator  to  re- 
deliver divers 
and  sundry  cattle 
that  had  in  some 
mysterious  way 
during  the  night- 
time become 
mixed  with  his 
own  bunch. 
This  guardian  of 
the  peace  and 
quiet   of   the 


ii.  c  i.)iii\ 


village,  in  addition  to  wearing  with  appropriate 
dignity  his  star  and  reputation  for  deeds  of 
valour,  affected  long  chin  -  whiskers  and  a 
waggon  -  spoke  walking  -  stick  as  additional 
badges  of  authority  ;  and  when  police  business 
was  dull — as  it  usually  was — he  augmented  his 
official  income  by  grinding  sausages  in  the 
butcher's  shop. 

The  judiciary  of  the  hamlet  was  concentrated 
in  the  person  of  a  venerable  Pennsylvania 
Dutchman,  an  animated  caricature  of  the  late 
President  of  the  South  African  Republic,  who 
divided  his  time  between  the  duties  of  his  offices 
as  justice  of  the  peace  and  police  judge  and 
punching  meal  tickets  in  his  wife's  restaurant. 
In  addition  to  his  other  possessions  the  vener- 
able justice  had  a  buxom  daughter,  of  uncertain 
years  and  no  uncertain  temper,  who  is  destined 
to  play  a  leading  part  in  my  drama. 

The  remaining  characters  are  a  one-eyed  con- 
stable, who  supplemented  his  official  income 
by  acting  in  the  capacity  of  barkeeper  in   the 


H-'I-'U  ■KM.* 


I'lIII.I.II'Hlll    !<({.   KA-VW.. 


'"£//«.      /rJ(f.r, 


&e 


J> \^L 


<>"cf 


j^z?4usj~~ 


A    LETTEK    FROM    THE   CLERK    OF    THE    DISTRICT   COURT,    PHILLIPS   COUNTY,    KANSAS,    CONFIRMING    THE 

author's  STORY. 


THE    MAJESTY    OF    THE     LAW. 


409 


Kansas  substitute  for  a  saloon  (a  "joint");  a 

one-armed  "joint"  proprietor;  and  the  humble 

chronicler  hereof,  who  was  at  that  time  acting 

in  the  capacity  of  city  attorney  of  the  village. 

Last,  but  by  no  means  least,  comes  the  hero, 

whom,  for  the  reason  that  he  still  resides  in  close 

proximity  to  the  writer,  I  shall  designate  simply 

as  Dick. 

Dick  was  an  ordinary  Kansas  farmer,  so  far  as 

appearances  go,  at  least,  standing  some  six  feet 

in  his  stockings,  ample   of  girth,  good  natured 

and  jovial,  and  with  a  smile  that  was  child-like 

and  bland.     He  was  a  good  neighbour  and  a 

respected  citizen,  and  when  sober  a  model  of 

propriety,  but  when  otherwise 

—  well,   he  was  somewhat 

different,    as    this    story   will 

show. 

It  was  a  beautiful  October 

afternoon.       The    sun     hung 

suspended  in  the  heavens  like 

a  golden  globe,  and  the  haze 

of  the  dying  summer  floated 

about  the  distant  horizon  like 

a  purple  fringe.     On  all  hands 

the   great   fields   of  yellowing 

corn  stretched  away  in  endless 

billows  until  they  merged  into 

the  haze.      Not   a    breath   of 

wind   stirred  the   leaves,   and 

save  for  the  drowsy  hum  of 
the  distant  threshing-machines 
no  sound  disturbed  the  still- 
ness of  the  day. 

In  an  attempt  to  shake  the 
sleep  from  my  eyelids  I  arose 
from  my  office  chair  and 
walked  out  on  to  the  pave- 
ment in  front  of  my  place  of 
business  to  stretch  my  limbs. 
Suddenly  the  sound  of  angry 
voices  burst  upon  my  ears, 
and  I  was  wide  awake  in  an 
instant.  From  the  one-storied 
wooden  "  joint  "  (saloon) 
across  the  way  came  sharp 
oaths  and  imprecations,  savage 
shouts  and  blood  -  curdling 
threats.  Then  I  heard  the  sounds  of  rending 
furniture  and  crashing  glassware.  Prompted  by 
some  foolish  notion,  I  ran  across  the  street  and 
pulled  open  the  screened  door  of  the  saloon. 
Hardly  had  I  done  so  than  a  beer  bottle 
whizzed  viciously  past  my  head  and  crashed 
into  fragments  in  the  street  beyond. 

At  a  glance  I  took  in  the  situation,  and  a 
striking  tableau  it  made.  Sprawled  beneath  a 
billiard  table,  trying  hard  to  make  himself 
invisible,   was  a  local  gambler.     In  the   middle 

Vol.  xiv. —  52. 


of  the  room   was  the  on  ind 

bar-keeper,  struggling  with  the  I  an 

obstinate  revolver  ;   while 
the  south  wall  stood  the  proprietor  of  th< 
reaching  for  a  cue  to  use  as  a  weapon.     Behind 
the  rude  pine  bar  at  the  far  end  ol  the  room 
the   cause   of  all    the   commotion      Dick, 
farmer,    hatless  and  coatless,   his    shirt   torn  in 
ribbons  and  his  face  streaked  with  blood.     In 
each  hand  he  held  a  beer  bottle. 

Then  the  tableau  changed  to  a  scene  ol 
strenuous  action.  He  of  the  one  eye  levelled 
his  revolver,  whereupon  Dick  doublet  1  up,  and 
from  his  outstretched  arm  shot  a  bottle.    Just  as 


l^nlfjjjLWoo^  no«f 


BOTl  K    H'^1    IN     I  '"•'    >'"     '"'      ' 

the    constable's    six-shooter    lurked     the    fl 
bottle  struck  him  in   the  pit  of  the  ichj 

the  triumphant    veil    of  Hick,   the   howl 
discomfited     bar -keeper,      the  wishing 

thud  of  the  bottle,  and  the  sharj  the 

pistol  all  blending  into  one  another.      1 1 
went  flying  in  the  air  and  '  dropped 

to    the    floor,    doubled    up   like   a    jack  knife. 
Crash  '      Another  bottle  hurtled  through  the 
and  smashed  into  fragments  upon  the  cue-case, 
covering    the    franti.     proprietor   with    broken 


4io 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


glass  and  beer-foam.  Wiping  glass  and  beer  off 
his  face  that  worthy  promptly  ducked  through 
the  door,  giving  vent  to  piercing  shrieks  of 
"  Murder !  " 

In  the  meantime  the  bar-keeper-constable  had 
recovered  his  footing  and  started  for  the  front 
door  at  a  run.  Half-way  to  the  coveted 
oosning  another  bottle  struck  him  full  between 
che  shoulders,  so  that  he  went  down  like 
a  log  and  Dioughed  up  the  sawdust  with  his 
face.  Not  da  ring  to  rise,  he  continued  to  make 
for  the  door  on  his  hands  and  knees,  for  all  the 
world  like  a  scared  dog.  Just"  as  he  reached  the 
threshold,  still  in  his  all-fours  position,  a  third 
bottle  came  rushing  through  the  air  like  an 
eight-inch  shell  and  struck  him  fairly  upon  the 
most  exposed  portion  of  his  anatomy.  With  a 
yell  of  anguish  the  unfortunate  man  gave  a  frog- 
like leap  that  took  him  clear  of  the  side-walk 
and  landed  him  in  the  dust  of  the  gutter  beyond. 
Then  he  scrambled  to  his  feet  and  started  up 
the  street  like  a  dust-clad  whirlwind,  from 
the  midst  of  which  came  the  agonizing  appeal, 
"Take  him  away  !     Take  him  away  !  " 

At  this  stage  of 
the  proceedings  your 
humble  scribe  made 
a  sudden  flank 
movement  and 
sought  shelter  be- 
tween the  buildings, 
for  the  infuriated 
Dick,  seeing  no  more 
worlds,  or  anything 
else,  to  conquer  or 
to  slay,  came  dash- 
ing out  of  the  build- 
ing foaming  and 
raging  like  a  mad- 
man, shouting  that 
he  was  a  wolf  and 
that  it  was  his  day 
to  howl,  and  making 
the  declaration  that 
he  "  could  lick  the 
whole  town  in  a 
bunch." 

No  one  appeared 
to  dispute  his  state- 
ments. As  he  passed 
up  the  street  bellow- 
ing his  boasts  a  dis- 
creet vacancy  was 
left  before  him,  while 
behind,  at  a  respect- 
ful distance,  trailed 
the  population  of 
the  town,  or,  to 
be   more   exact,  the 


HE  PASSED   UP  THE  STREET   BEU.CWING   HIS   BOASTS. 


inhabitants  of  that  portion  of  the  town 
which  he  had  already  traversed.  *  As  he  pro- 
gressed Up  the  street  the  crowd  was  augmented 
by  practically  the  whole  population  of  the 
village,  who  followed  him  like  small  boys  after 
a  circus  elephant.  Meanwhile  I  and  the  afore- 
mentioned semi-invisible  gambler— now  some- 
what recovered  from  his  fright — had  made  a 
detour  through  the  alleys  to  the  forum  of  justice 
presided  over  by  the  animated  caricature  of 
Mr.  Kruger,  where  I  hastily  scribbled  out  a 
complaint  charging  Dick  with  assault  and 
battery,  and  the  gambler  duly  verified  the  same. 
Thereupon  the  representative  of  the  judiciary 
of  the  sovereign  State  of  Kansas  wrote  out  a 
warrant  in  due  form  and  hobbled  down  the 
alley  as  fast  as  his  age  and  rheumatism  would 
permit,  and  located  the  chief  of  police, 
quietly  grinding  sausages  in  the  back  room  of 
the  butcher's  shop,  utterly  oblivious  of  the  fact 
that  a  riot  was  in  progress  within  the  confines 
of  the  city. 

When  the  judge  appeared  the  chief  of  police 
allowed  the  sausage-machine  to  cease  its  grind- 
ing, wiped  the  bits 
of  shredded  meat 
from  his  hands, 
carefully  adjusted  his 
glasses,  and  read  the 
document.  Then  he 
took  off  and  folded 
his  apron,  picked  up 
his  hat,  and,  armed 
with  his  waggon- 
spoke  and  the  slip 
of  fluttering  paper, 
started  slowly  and 
deliberately  up  the 
street  toward  the 
opera-house,  before 
which  the  crowd  had 
gathered  at  a  respect- 
ful distance,  listen- 
ing to  the  infuriated 
Dick.  He  was  de- 
livering at  the  top  of 
his  voice  a  lecture 
upon  the  relative 
worth  of  fighting- 
men  of  the  past, 
present,  and  future, 
and  just  as  he  was 
explaining  to  his 
own  apparent  satis- 
faction that  he  — 
Dick — was  the  only 
original,  double- 
geared,  nickel-plated,, 
five  hutidred  -  horse 


.8<L 


■n 


THE    MAJESTY    OF   THE    LAW. 


4'i 


power  fighting-man  that  ever  lived,  I  saw  the  old 
marshal  pushing  his  way  through  the  crowd.  As 
he  reached  the  inside  of  the  circle  of  spectators 
I  could  see  from  my  vantage-point  on  the  post- 
office  steps  that  his  ridiculous  whiskers,  his  hands, 
and  his  knees  were 
all  a-tremble.  When 
he  drew  near  the 
frothing  giant  he 
gazed  full  at  the 
towering  form  of  his 
victim,  and  in  a 
melodramatic  voice 
exclaimed  :  "  Dick, 
consider  yourself 
under  arrest  !  State 
of  Kansas,  county  of 

,    city   of  . 

To  any  police  officer 
"of  said  city,  greeting. 
Whereas " 

All  this  time  Dick 
had  remained  silent 
and  motionless,  with 
his  blinking  eyes 
glaring  at  the  trem- 
bling form  of  the 
little  marshal,  hur- 
riedly gabbling  over 
the  warrant.  All  at 
once  he  seemed  to 
comprehend  what 
was  going  on.  Lurch- 
ing forward  with  a 
roar  of  fury  he 
grasped  the  repre- 
sentative of  law  and 
order  by  the  coat- 
collar  and  one  leg, 
lifted  him  high  above 
his  head,  and  drop- 
ped him  down  on 
the  other  side  of  the  spiked  iron  fence  that 
surrounded  the  area-way  in  front  of  the  base- 
ment of  the  dance-hall  !  Twelve  feet  fell  the 
officer,  into  the  rubbish  and  litter  that  had 
accumulated  below,  and  as  the  thud  of  his  fall 
came  to  the  ears  of  the  dumfounded  crowd, 
down  the  steps  of  the  opera-house,  with  a  rush, 
came  the  gigantic  mayor. 

Without  a  moment's  hesitation  he  threw  his 
arms  around  Dick's  ample  waist,  just  as  that 
worthy  turned  to  meet  the  new  danger.  For  a 
moment  they  tugged  and  surged,  heaved  and 
pitched,  like  two  bulls  with  locked  horns. 
The  mayor's  head  was  beneath  Dick's  arm 
and  Dick  had  a  deadly  grip  on  him. 
Presently  there  came  a  mighty  surge,  and  with 
his  feet  in  the  air  and  his  head  down  the  mayor 


HASPED    THE    REPRESENTATIVE    OF    LAW    AND    ORDER    HV 
COAT-COLLAR    AND 


hang   helpless   in    Dick's    bear - 
Stolidly  Dick   stepped  across  tb 
area-way,    and    with    a    mighty  effort    lift 
huge  bulk  of  the  chi<  t  exe<  utiv<   ol  I 
the  iron  spikes.     Then  he  reli  ised  his  hold  B 

started  him  ti 
the  marshal,  1 

at  the  bottom 
the  Harrow 
Fortune,    howe\ 
intervened    to    save 
the   mayor,  for   just 
as    he    began    his 
di    'in   his. thick 
coat    caughj     upon 
one     of    the    iron 
spikes,  his  fe<  t  swung 
over  and  went  1  ra 
ing  through  the  thick 
plat  s    window 

ol    the   dance  -  hall, 
and,    ye  ling    madly 
for    help,    the   ch 
magistrate    was    left 
dangling   in   midair, 
like        Mahomet's 
coffin,   and    tli 
hung  until  his  g 
wife   came    to  his 
rescue  with  a  pair  of 
scissors  and  a  step- 
ladder. 

Meanwhile  the  tri- 
umphant Dick  had 
picked  up  the  war- 
rant lost  by  t  he- 
marshal  at  the  time 
of  his  inglorious  exit 
from  the  scene 
the  action.  After 
looking    i!  he 

construed    it    as   an 
invitation   to  call   upon   the  police  judge  in  his 
sanctum.     He   started  for   the   seal 
at  a  gallop,  waving   his  arms   and   shoul 
panic-stricken    crowd  opening  1"  im  and 

(losing  behind  him  like  a   pack  of  1 
the  charge  of  an  angry  bull. 

In    a   few   moments    he    had    re;  the 

restaurant,    alias    the    justice  -  hall.  hing 

inside,   Dick  slapped  the  warrant  down  on 
table.      Then    he   reached    o 
the  venerable  expounder  of  the  law  I 
ing   whiskers,   and   began   to  amuse  bin 
cuffing  the  judicial  head  until   il 
each   whack    like  a   drum,    tl 
astonished    magistrate,    the  dish 

glee  emitted  by  Dick,  and  the  si  umping 

resembling     the     pandemonium 


412 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


Dervish  orchestra  in  full  swing.  The-  present 
scribe,  deeming  that  it  was  his  duty  as  a  prose- 
cuting officer  to  be  present  in  court  when  there 
was  an  offender  charged  with  crime  before  the 
bar  of  justice,  had  hastened  to  the  restaurant  at 
top  speed,  and  together  with  a  few  other  curious 
citizens  rushed  into  the  room  with  some  hazy 
idea  of  trying  to  effect  a  rescue.  But  at  this 
critical  moment  a  rescuer  appeared,  for  with  her 
skirts  held  high  in  one  hand  and  a  large  white 
earthenware  bowl  of  mashed  potatoes,  steaming 


SHE    SI.AMMED   THE    DISH    OF    HOT    POTATOES    FULL    IN    HIS    FACE. 


hot,  poised  in  the  other,  there  came  rushing 
through  the  long  dining-room  of  the  restaurant 
the  magistrate's  buxom  daughter. 

Like  an  avenging  fury  she  charged  full  at  her 
father's  assailant,  and  without  hesitation  slammed 
the  dish  of  hot  potatoes  full  in  his  face  !  There- 
upon your  scribe  and  half-a-dozen  other  spec- 
tators awoke  from  their  trance  at  once  and  fell 
upon  the  blinded,  half  scalded,  and  half 
smothered  Dick  and  bore  him  struggling  to 
the  floor,  where  the  magistrate's  daughter 
assisted  by  sitting  on  the  prisoner.  Presently 
the  marshal  —  who   had   used  the   step-ladder 


furnished  by  the  mayor's  wife  to  escape  from 
his  improvised  cell — appeared  with  a  rope,  and 
in  a  moment  the  struggling,  writhing  Dick  was 
trussed  up  like  a  turkey.  Then  the  magistrate's 
plucky  daughter  arose  and,  with  a  hysterical 
cry,  threw  up  her  hands  and  subsided  in  a 
dead  faint. 

The  next  morning  Dick,  with  his  face  scalded 
with  the  hot  potato-poultice,  with  one  eye  closed 
and  a  gash  in  his  lip,  and  in  a  sad  state  of 
general  disrepair,  but  still  defiant  and  unpenitent, 

was  led  once  more  before 
the  bar  of  justice. 

Now  running  a  "joint" 
or  saloon  in  Kansas  is  a 
crime  prohibited  by  the 
constitution  of  the  State, 
for  officers  to  knowingly 
allow  one  to  be  carried 
on  is  no  less  one.  Gaol 
accommodation  in  our 
part  of  the  world  is 
notoriously  bad  ;  also  the 
saloons  were  paying  the 
city  two  hundred  thou- 
sand dollars  a  year  for  the 
privilege  of  running  with- 
out molestation  from  the 
authorities.* 

We  knew  Dick  was 
game  and  would  fight  the 
case,  and  that  his  word 
was  absolutely  good.  All 
this  and  much  more  he 
hinted  to  us  as  we  stood 
there  in  the  little  room 
before  the  justice.  The 
city  attorney  hemmed 
and  hawed,  and  shifted 
his  feet  about  nervously. 
Finally  he  beckoned  the 
mayor,  the  marshal,  the 
saloon  proprietor,  and 
the  city  fathers  generally 
out  into  the  alley  ;  and, 
last  of  all,  the  prisoner 
was  called  to  join  the  group.  The  conversa- 
tion was  short  and  to  the  point ;  then  the  city 
attorney  edged  back  into  the  room,  and  with 
a  humble  mien  approached  the  magistrate's 
desk. 

"  The  city  dismisses  this  case,  your  honour," 
he  murmured. 

And  so  the  majesty  of  the  law  was  vindicated. 


*  While  this  compact  between  the  saloons  and  city  officials  is  a 
direct  violation  of  law  and  good  morals,  it  is  nevertheless  a  fact 
that  the  saloon  question  enters  into  every  Kansas  election — State, 
local,  or  municipal — and  in  more  than  half  the  towns  city  officials 
are  holding  office  elected  upon  this  very  issue — that  they  will  permit 
the  "joints  "  to  run  in  defiance  of  the  law  on  condition  that  a  stipu- 
lated sum  is  paid  into  the  city  treasury. — The  Author. 


Odds    and    Ends. 


The  Water  Vine  of  Trinidad— A  Florida  "Jug  Band"— A  Californian  Goat    Farm 

in  the   Bush,   etc.,   etc. 


-The  Barber 


SURVEYOR  writes 
from  Trinidad,  B.W.I. : 
"The      accompanying 

photograph  shows  a 
rather  novel  way  of 
obtaining  water.  The  object  held 
by  the  men  is  a  vine  locally 
known  as  the  Kane  dean  (water 
I  have  often  been  in- 
to it  for  water  when  out 
bush  surveying,  far  from 
It  grows  even  on  the 
of  hills  and  always  yields  a 
plentiful  supply  of  water.  The 
specimen  shown  in  the  photo- 
graph is  about  the  largest  size  to 
which  the  vine  grows,  and  from 
it  we  obtained  nearly  a  quart  of 
excellent  drinking  water." 

A   correspondent    in    Florida— 
where    the    alligators    come    from 
—  sends      us      the     following 
photograph  of  the  original  cabin  in  which  the 
hero  of  the  late    Mrs.  Harriet  Beecher-Stowe's 
famous  novel,  "Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,"  lived  for 


vine),   and 
debted 
in    the 
any  stream, 
tops 


1  HI 

From  a] 


A    i  !  M;    VINE    OF    TRINIDAD — I'HK     SHI  I  SHOWN    PKI 

OF    EX'CF.LI.ENT    DRINKING    WATER. 


[I'/wto. 


From  a  PJioto. 


many  years.  "It  is  situated,"  he  writes,  "about 
seven  miles  from  the  famous  Ocklawaha 
River,   which    swarms  with   alligators,  and   it  is 

pointed  out  to 
all  visitors  to  the 
neigh  bourhood. 
That  it  is  the 
original  cabin 
which  gave  Mrs. 
Stowe  ;i  name 
her  celebrated 
honk  there  is 
every    reason     to 

believe.      The 

former    home    of 
the    author* 
stands  only  a  lew 
m  iles  d istant, 
and   people  w 
knew     her     state 
that    she    : 
admitted      the 
wn    in 
the     picture    was 
i  n    h  e  r     m  i  n  d 
when    she   wrote 
her  epoch-mak- 
ing romam  e. ' 


414 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


From  time  to 
time  we  have 
published  in  this 
section,  and  else- 
where in  the 
magazine,  photo- 
graphs of  remark- 
able bands.  Here 
is  another  of  a 
distinctly  curious 
kind.  One  of 
the  most  familiar 
sights  in  Florida 
is  the  strange 
"jug  bands" 
which  are  formed 
in  nearly  every 
district  by  negro 
boys.  Perhaps 
the  most  famous 
of  these  primitive 
orchestras  is  the 
Palatka  Jug 
Band,  which  is 
composed  of  six 
little    nigger 

boys,  who  go  from  hotel  to  hotel  playing  their 
weird  and  monotonous  "  music."  Close  at 
hand,  the  sounds  which  they  draw  from  their 
large  stone  jugs,  into  which  they  blow  or  whistle, 
are  as  unlike  music  as  could  well  be  imagined, 
but  at  a  distance — the  greater  the  better,  say 
unkind  critics — the  noise  which  they  make  really 
sounds  something  like  a  brass  band.  The  effect 
is  said  to  be  not  at  all  unpleasant  when   the 


From 


FLORIDA        JUG    BAND. 


[l/ioto. 


on    cigarettes    and 


• 

-jggfi 

.^H^. 

|       _      'M 

W£-:' 

^g^^B                        M^ 

sounds  are  wafted  on  the  breeze,  but  the  nearer 
the  jug  band  approaches  the  worse  it  gets,  so 
that  people  generally  get  rid  of  the  "  musicians  " 
as  soon  as'  possible  by  giving  them  the  small 
coins  of  which  they  are  in  search.  The  jug 
band,  therefore,  resolves  itself  into  a  kind  of 
musical  blackmailing  association.  The  money 
collected  by  the  urchins  is  invariably  expended 

ice-cream,  the  two  things 
which  Florida  negro 
boys  love  most  in  the 
world. 

The  striking  photograph 
next  reproduced  shows  the 
wreck  of  the  Chinese 
cruiser  Hai-Tien,  which 
went  ashore  during  a  thick 
fog-  at  Eagle  Point,  in  the 
Saddle  Islands.  The  war- 
ship was  travelling  at 
twenty-two  knots  an  hour, 
and  struck  the  rocks  with 
terrific  force,  literally  leap- 
ing into  the  air.  Our 
photograph  was  taken  at 
high  water,  but  at  low 
tide  the  scene  is  even 
more     striking.        A    rope 


bridge- 


-seen  on  the  right 


A    REMARKABLE    VVKhCK— THE   CHINESE     CRUISER    "  HAI-TIEN,"    WHICH 

From  a]  fog  while  travelling  at  full  speed. 


WENT     ASHORE     DIKING 

[Photo. 


—connects  the  vessel 
with  the  land,  and  every- 
thing movable  is 
salved. 


being 


ODDS    AND    ENDS. 


-US 


amusing 


The  photograph  herewith  is  an 
real-life  parody  on  a  well-known  advertisement 
A  native  "  boy  "  on  the  West  Coast  of  Africa  is 
listening  for  the  first 
time  to  the  gramophone, 
from  which  his  master's 
voice  addresses  him  in 
familiar  accents.  His 
first  expression  of  blank 
amazement,  not  un- 
mixed with  fear,  had 
just  been  succeeded  by 
an  expansive  grin  of 
recognition  when  our 
correspondent  snap- 
shotted  him. 

The  goat  is  pro- 
verbial for  its  ability  to 
thrive  on  the  coarsest 
land  and  find  a  means 
of  sustenance  on  the 
most  uninviting  hill- 
side. Angora  goats 
are  bred  and  reared  in 
large  numbers  in  the 
ranges  of  California 
and  elsewhere  in  places 
that  are  so  inhospitable 
as  to  render  sheep-farm- 
ing an  impossibility.  They  are  reared,  tended, 
and  shorn  of  their  silky  hair  in  practically  the 
same  manner  as  sheep ;  but,  whereas  the  sheep 


From  a] 


HIS    MASTER  S    VOICE. 


before  her  shearers  is  dumb,  a  visit 
shearing  shed   in  full  swing  will 
anyone  that    the  Angora   I 

on      the      sul. 
of    shearing,    w  hi 
it    is    at 
n<  eal, 
ally  if  roughly  hi 
or  n tally  sni<  k 

with   tin-   sheai ;.      II' 
strenuously  obj<  cts    to 
parting  with   little   1 
<>i    his   ^kiii.  and  • 
not   approve.  <>i    I"  iijg 
dragged  out   of    1 
pens  by  tin-  horns  and 
squatted   on   his  haun- 
ches   upon    the     shear- 
ing   board,    anil    mis 
no    opportunity   of 
minding    "in-    of     tin- 
fact.     Of   recent   years 
great    improvements 
ha\r  Ik  en  made  in  the 
quality   of    the    hei 
and  valuable   stud  ani- 
mals  have  been  freely 
imported    from    South 
Africa     and     Australia, 
thus  placing   the  industry    on   a   much   sounder 
and  more  profitable  basis.     When  at  libertj 
follow  the  bent  of  their  own  wayward  whims  the 


from  a  fhoto.  oy\ 


A    FLOCK    OK    ANGORA   GOATS   ON    A   CALIFORNIAN    HILI 


4t6 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


From  ti\ 


A    PRIMITIVE    BARKERS    shop    IN    THE    AUS'I  RAI.IAN    HUSH. 


goats  are  gregarious  and  roam  over  the  mountain 
sides  in  large  mobs,  their  snowy  fleeces  contrast- 
ing sharply  with  their  sombre  surroundings. 

The    above    amusing    snap-shot,    sent    by  a 
correspondent  from  the  Australian  bush,  shows 


a  hairdresser's  saloon 
in  the  "  back-blocks." 
During  the  week 
the  miners  and 
others  do  not  trouble 
particularlyabout  such 
trifles  as  hair-cutting 
and  shaving  ;  but  on 
Sundays  and  holidays 
they  come  in  for  a 
"clean  up,"  and  then 
the  proprietor  of  this 
primitive  establish- 
ment makes  much 
money.  On  one  occa- 
sion great  inconveni- 
ence was  caused  in  the 
neighbourhood  by  the 
inconsiderate  conduct 
of  a  wandering  party  of 
blacks,  who  descended 
upon  the  saloon  and 
annexed  the  razors  and 
other  implements,  so 
that  for  some  time 
Murrin  Murrin  had  to  go  unshaved.  The  notice, 
"  Hair  Cut  Painlessly,"  seems  to  indicate  either 
that  the  barber  is  a  humorist  or  else  that  experi- 
ence has  made  the  bushmen  somewhat  shy  of 
local  talent  in  the  hair-cutting  and  shaving  line. 


[Photo. 


'77 
Guarding  a  '^tS^ml'^    <^A  Battle  .with  Polar  Bears 


DRIFT  IN 


Fairyland 
of  trance 


THE  WINDS' 


ASiteTLANDyfESTlVAL 


The  Majesty  of 

•the  Law 


'    The  Moonshiners 

ft Florida  Jug  El  a  if  d 


.££- 


Co^k  H 


?fye  tiahr 
Sfiqe 

'His  Master^  \Po/cev 
My  Experiences  at  King  Solomons  Mines" 

JJ  Primitive  Barbers' pfjop 


THE    NUVEL    MAP-CONTENTS   OF    "  THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE,"    WHICH    SHOWS    AT    A    GLANCE    THE    LOCALITY   OF    EACH    AKITCLK. 

AND   NARRATIVE   OF    ADVENTURE    IN    THIS    NUMBER. 


"THE   MADDENED   BRUTE   HURLED    HIM    UP   INTO   THE   TREES." 

(see  page  420.) 


The  Wide  World  Magazine. 


Vol.  XIV. 


MARCH,    1905. 


Nc    83. 


By  F.  R.  Boardman,    of  the  Egyptian  Army. 

Being  the  adventures  of  a  small  Government  "patrol"  which  set  out  to  visit  the  Niam-Niam 
tribes,  a  savage  race  of  cannibals  living  in  the  heart  of  Central  Africa,  in  a  country  never  before 
visited  by  white  man.  Disaster  dogged  the  expedition  from  the  very  start,  and  only  after  numerous 
hairbreadth    escapes    did    the    author    extricate    himself  and    a    few    survivors    from    the    clutches  of 

the  bloodthirsty   savages  and  get  back  to  a   British   post. 


FTER  the  occupation  of  Fashoda 
by  the  Anglo-Egyptian  Government 
it  became  necessary  to  take  over 
the  Bahr-el-Ghazal  provinces,  a  vast 
country  of  swamps,  marshes,  and 
dense  forests.  After  much  hardship  and  a 
little  fighting  this  was  successfully  accom- 
plished, with  the  exception  of  the  Niam-Niam 
territory,  an  enormous  expanse  of  country  near 
the  Nile  -  Congo  watershed,  inhabited  by 
numerous   tribes  of  warlike  cannibals. 

A  correspondence  was  opened  between  the 
Government  and  Sultan  Yumbio,  the  ruler  of  all 
the  Niam-Niam  tribes  in  our  provinces,  and  the 
customary  "salaams"  were  paid,  after  which 
Yumbio  expressed  a  wish  that  a  patrol  might 
visit  his  country,  promising  them  a  hearty  wel- 
come. This  patrol,  consisting  of  the  late 
Armstrong  Bey,  in  command  ;  myself,  twenty 
Soudanese  soldiers,  and  thirty-two  coolies,  left 
Wau,  the  Anglo-Egyptian  station  :n  the  Bahr- 
el-Ghazal  province,  on  New  Year's  Day. 

Vol.  xiv.— 53. 


At  Rumbek  the  coolies  were  exchanged  and 
a  guide  found  to  take  us  to  the  Niam-Niam 
country.  Nothing  of  interest  occurred  until 
February,  when  we  had  trouble  with  the  coolies. 
The  greater  number  of  them  deserted,  as  we 
were  now  nearing  the  dreaded  Niam-Niam 
region,  and  the  men  feared  that  they  would 
never  return.  The  commanding  officer  accord- 
ingly collected  all  the  sheiks  (chiefs)  of  the 
adjacent  villages,  and  made  each  one  bring  a 
few  men  as  coolies  to  cany  the  presents  we  ■•• 
taking  for  Sultan  Yumbio.  When  we  had 
sufficient  porters  we  started  off  again  on  our 
eventful  journey,  passing  through  a  country 
literally  swarming  with  animal  life.  Almosl 
every  morning  Armstrong  Bey  and  myself  v 
out  after  some  kind  of  big  gan 

On  the  morning  of  February  22nd  we  r<  ached 
a  cosy  nook  on  the  River  Merridi,  and  camp 
Shortly  after  settling  down   one  of  the  coolies 
came  in  and  told  us  th 
half  a    mile    off,    and     Ai  Bey   and    I 


420 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE 


accordingly  seized  our  guns  and  went  out  to  try. 
and  get  a  shot.  Coming  in  sight  of-  the  herd 
about  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  walk  from  camp, 
in  an  open  patch  of  tall  grass,  we  crept  up  as 
close  as  we  could  get  to  pick  out  a  good  tusker. 
When  within  about  twenty  yards  of  them,  how- 
ever, they  all  turned  and  bolted  towards  us, 
several  passing  within  arm's  length  ;  they  had 
evidently  got  our  wind  and  become  frightened. 

The  following  day  we  crossed  the  river  and 
camped  five  miles  down  stream,  about  four 
hundred  yards  from  the  banks.  After  seeing 
everything  in  camp  was  correct,  I  took  a  stroll 
down  to  the  river.  I  had  been  there  about  ten 
minutes  when  I  suddenly  heard  two  shots  fired 
at  the  far  side  of  our  camp. 

As  Armstrong  Bey  had 
shot  two  waterbok  that 
morning  for  meat,  I  at 
once  came  to  the  conclu- 
sion that  he  had  now  gone 
after  elephants.  Running 
back  to  camp,  I  seized  my 
rifle,  hoping  to  be  able  to 
intercept  them  and  get  a 
shot.  As  I  hurried  along 
I  heard  ten  or  a  dozen 
shots  fired  in  quick  succes- 
sion. We  were  only  a  day's 
march  from  the  Niam-Niam 
border,  and  it  occurred  to 
me  that  the  commanding 
officer  had  perhaps  been 
attacked  by  Niam-Niams 
whilst  out  shooting.  I 
therefore  shouted  to  the 
men  in  camp  to  get  their 
rifles  and  follow  me.  Then 
I  rushed  off  in  the  direction 
of  the  firing.  In  my  ex- 
citement I  completely  out- 
ran my  men,  and  presently 
came  across  two  of  our 
soldiers  who  had  gone  out  with  the  Bey. 
I  shouted  out  to  them  as  they  ran  towards 
me  : — 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  " 

"  Elephants,"  they  answered,  laconically. 

"  Where  are  they  ?  " 

"  Here,  effendi,"  they  replied. 

"Is  he  dead?" 

I  used  the  pronoun  "  he,"  as  the  Game  Laws 
do  not  allow  of  cow  elephants  being  shot. 

"  Yes,  effendi,"  answered  the  men,  simply. 

"  Show  me  where." 

We  then  ran  off  through  the  long  grass  and 
trees  without  further  conversation,  I  fully  ex- 
pecting to  see  an  elephant  lying  dead  on  the 
ground.     Presently  the   men  came  to  an  open 


Illli  Al  "1  HOR,   I-.   R.    Bl  IAR1  If 
From 


space  and  stopped.  On  coming  up,  what  was 
my  horror  to  see  the  body  of  my  commanding 
officer,  lying  on  his  back  and  covered  with 
blood  !  He  was  quite  dead.  For  the  moment 
the  shock  staggered  me  ;  then  I  collected  some 
of  the  men,  made  a  rough  stretcher,  and  carried 
the  body  back  to  camp. 

Making  inquiries  from  one  of  the  men  who 
had  been  out  with  Armstrong  Bey,  I  obtained 
the  following  information.  Finding  I  had  gone 
down  to  the  river,  the  unfortunate  officer  had 
gone  after  the  elephants  by  himself,  and  had 
fired  at  a  large  bull,  wounding  it.  The  animal 
then  ran  off,  with  three  companions.  In  his 
excitement,  knowing  he  had  wounded  it,  Arm- 
strong Bey  rushed  after 
them  and  got  on  their  left, 
so  that  the  wind  went 
from  him  to  the  elephant. 
When  he  was  opposite  the 
wounded  bull  it  got  his 
wind,  and  at  once  turned 
on  him  savagely.  He  fired 
two  shots  into  its  chest, 
and  then  the  maddened 
brute  was  upon  him,  driv- 
ing its  tusk  clean  through 
his  heart  and  hurling  him 
up  into  the  trees.  Nearly 
every  bone  in  his  body  was 
broken.  His  watch  was 
uninjured,  but  his  "350 
Rigby  double-barrelled  rifle 
was  bent  almost  double. 
The  two  soldiers  who  were 
with  the  Bey  fired  several 
shots  at  the  elephant,  but 
were  unable  to  turn  it  off. 

The     same     evening    I 
buried   my  unfortunate 
officer,  having  three  volleys 
fired    over    his   grave.       I 
afterwards   learnt    that    the 
reports  of   these  volleys  were   the  first   intima- 
tion  the   Niam-Niams   had  of  our   being  near 
their  country. 

I  returned  to  camp  with  a  very  sad  heart, 
for  I  had  not  only  lost  my  commanding  officer, 
but  also  a  good  and  brave  friend  and  my  only 
white  companion.  For  some  time  I  was  unde- 
cided whether  to  advance  or  return  to  Rumbek. 
After  awhile,  however,  I  decided  to  carry  on  the 
expedition  by  myself,  and  accordingly  sent  two 
coolies  back  with  a  report  of  Armstrong  Bey's 
death,  informing  the  officer  commanding  at 
Rumbek  of  my  intention  to  carry  through  the 
expedition,  if  possible. 

From  that  day  onwards  everything  seemed  to 
go    against    me.       The    following     morning     I 


IAN,  OK    THE  EGYPTIAN  ARMY. 
a  Photo. 


IN    THE    CLUTCHES    OF    CANNIBALS. 


421 


marched  off  with  my  little  party  of  fifty-three 
all  told,  bound  for  the  little  known  territory  of 
the  cannibals.  Only  twenty  of  my  men  were 
armed  with  rifles,  and  these  had  only  forty 
rounds  of  ammunition  each. 

During  the  afternoon  march,  without  the 
least  warning,  the  whole  party  was  attacked  by 
bees.  The  cattle  and  mules  rushed  off  panic- 
stricken  into  the  forest ;  the  donkeys  which  were 
carrying  the  loads  fell  down  ;  and  the  majority 
of  the  men  were  badly  stung  by  the  infuriated 
insects,  the  native  sergeant  of  the  party  going 
mad  from  the  stings  he  received  about  the  head. 

That  evening  was  passed  in  the  pleasant 
operation  of  taking  the  stings  out  of  the  men's 
heads  and  faces  and  rubbing  the  places  with 
ammonia. 

The  following 
morning  we  entered 
the  Niam-Niam 
territory,  and,  reach- 
ing the  village  of  a 
chief  named  Sango, 
camped  near  his 
house.  On  our  ap- 
proach, however,  all 
the  natives  bolted. 
I  went  out  with  the 
interpreter  to  try  and 
find  someone  to  take 
a  message  to  the 
chief,  but  met  with 
no  success. 

The  following 
day,  however,  a 
woman  came  in.  I 
gave  her  a  present 
of  some  cloth  and 
sent  her  back  to  tell 
the  chief  we  had 
come  on  a  friendly 
visit  to  his  Sultan, 
and  that  he  was 
not  to  be  afraid,  but  to  come  in  and  bring  his 
people.  That  night  two  of  my  soldiers  — who 
had  strolled  too  far  from  camp — were  captured 
by  the  natives.  Their  rifles  were  taken  away 
and  their  clothing  and  equipment  cut  off  them. 
A  forked  pole  was  placed  round  their  necks  and 
tied,  their  hands  were  bound  behind  them,  and 
they  were  driven  off. 

The  following  morning  an  old  man  came  in 
and  informed  me  that  I  could  take  what  food  I 
wanted  from  Sango's  village,  but  that  I  must 
remain  there  until  word  came  from  the  Sultan 
to  allow  me  to  proceed. 

I  thanked  him  for  his  offer  of  food,  and  told 
him  I  should  pay  for  everything  taken  from  the 
village.     He  was  to  tell  his  chief,  I  said,  that  I 


THE    EXPEDITION    PASSING    THROUGH    A    DANGEROUS    PIECB    OP 

From  a]  country.  [Photo, 


had  come  on  a  friendly  mission,  and  unless  my 
two  men  returned  to  camp  unharmed  that  night 
I  should  advance  on   the  village  of  the  distl 
chief  the  following  mornin 

Nothing     further    happened     that    day.     1 
cautioned  the  men   not  lo  anything  from 

the  huts,  as  it   would   give  the   nati\<  s   the  im- 
pression that  we  had  come  to  rob  thi  m. 

That  night  one  of  the  two  men  who  ha< 
captured    came    into    camp,  stark  naked.       II 
stated    that    he  and    his   companion    had    been 
captured  by  a  party  of  cannibals  and  taken   to 
the  head  chiefs  village,  twelve  miles  off.     Th 
they  had  been  bound  and  thrown  naked  on  the 
ground  outside  a  hut,  under  a  guard  of  several 
natives,  who  laughed  and  jeered  at  the  sufT 

they  endured  from 
the  mosquitoes  din- 
ing the  night.  The 
guard  had  received 
orders  from  their 
chief  to  kill  them  if 
they  heard  any  firing 
from  the  direction 
of  my  camp.  Finally, 
the  tortured  soldier 
manag<  d  to  untie 
his  bonds  and  get 
away  without 
discovered. 

The  following  day 
I  marched  on  to  the 
head  chief's  village, 
but  was  stopped  on 
the  way  by  about 
two  hundred  excited 
natives.  They  had 
hidden  themseh 
in     the     I  and 

threatened  hostility  - 
if  I  continued  to 
advance. 

After  about  three 
hours'  parleying  I  managed  to  persuade  them 
that  I  was  friendly,  and  induced  them 
conduct  me  to  their  chief's  village.  That 
worthy  gentleman  fled  on  hearing  of  my 
approach,  and  I  at  once  had  my  other 
man  released.  The  two  ritles  and  ammunition, 
however,  had  been  sent  on  to  Sultan  Yumb 
son,  Mangi.  The  chief's  son  stated  that  his 
father  knew  nothing  of  my  men's  capture,  and 
that  they  had  been  seized  by  .1  party  of  thii 

Taking  the  chief's  son  as  a  hostage,  1  1  im] 
in    the    village    and    awaited    the    arrival 
messenger    from   Mangi.     Three  of  his  env< 
arrived    two    days    later,    with     instructions 
guide  me  to  his  village. 

We    marched    off'  in    a    southerly   direction, 


422 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


through  dense  forests,  abounding  with  game, 
advancing  in  Indian  file,  owing  to  the  dense- 
ness  of  the  forest,  with  Mangi's  representatives 
leading. 

A  few  days  later,  when  marching  alongside  a 
dry  khor  (tributary),  I  went  about  three  hundred 
yards  off  our  track  and  shot  a  hartebeest. 
Hardly  had  I  done  so  than  about  two  hundred 
Niam-Niam  savages  rushed  down  upon  me  in  a 
very  hostile  manner,  evidently  thinking  I  had 
fired  at  one  of  their  men.  It  was  some  time 
before  I  could  make  them  understand  why  I 
had  fired,  and  they  were  not  convinced  until 
they  saw  the  dead  hartebeest,  when  they  at 
once  set  upon  it  and  cut 
it  into  small  pieces,  eat- 
ing it  raw  and  drinking 
the  blood  as  it  ran  from 
the  carcass.  I  noticed 
that  these  natives  were 
all  armed  with  bows  and 
arrows,  spears  and  shields, 
and  every  man  carried  a 
naked  knife  in  his  hands. 
Their  hair  was  matted  in 
large  rolls  and  stuck  to- 
gether with  long  pins 
made  from  the  breast- 
bones of  human  beings. 

This  incident  showed 
me  that  I  was  being 
closely  watched  and  fol- 
lowed, and  that  same 
night  I  lost  two  more  of 
my  small  party. 

Coming  to  a  large  pool 
of  water,  after  marching 
through  a  dense  forest, 
I  halted  my  party  so  as 
to  allow  the  men  to  fill 
their  water  -  bottles.  I 
had  been  there  about 
ten  minutes  when  a 
party  of  some  three  hun- 
dred savages  —  all  fully 
armed — came  up  from  behind 
following  on  my  tracks  and  were  evidently 
surprised  to  find  us  halted  there.  It  then  struck 
me  that  Mangi's  representatives  had  been  particu- 
larly anxious  that  I  should  go  on  and  not  stop 
for  water  at  that  place. 

I  boldly  asked  the  leader  of  the  band  why  he 
was  following  me,  whereupon  he  made  the  lame 
excuse  that  he  was  taking  some  women  to 
Sultan  Mangi's  village.  This  I  knew  to  be  a 
lie,  and  I  accordingly  made  him  go  on  ahead  of 
me,  which  seemed  to  disconcert  him  con- 
siderably. 

At  last  we  arrived  at  Mangi's  village,  but  only 


A    GKOUH   OK 

From  a 


'hey  had  been 


to  find  it  deserted.  Those  of  his  men  that  I 
had  with  me  then  informed  me  that  Mangi  was  a 
cripple  and  had  to  be  carried  about,  and  there- 
fore did  not  wish  me  to  see  him.  They  told  me 
that  food  and  a  guide  would  be  sent  me. 

As  this  seemed  quite  satisfactory  I  told  the 
natives  to  go  to  Mangi  and  tell  him  to  send  in 
the  rifles  and  ammunition  taken  from  my  men, 
and  also  to  give  me  an  explanation  as  to  why 
they  were  attacked.  Keeping  one  of  the  men 
with  me  I  went  round  the  village,  and  there  saw 
hideous  and  unmistakable  signs  of  cannibalism. 
I  questioned  the  man  who  was  with  me,  and 
he  told  me  that  his  tribe  only  ate  young  children 

captured  in  their  many 
raids  against  other  tribes. 
The  sights  I  had  seen 
sickened  me,  and  I  was 
glad  to  return  to  camp. 

That  evening  Sultan 
Mangi's  son  came  in, 
with  about  fifty  followers, 
all  fully  armed.  As  they 
advanced  I  ordered  my 
men  to  allow  no  one 
inside  the  zareba  unless 
they  laid  down  their 
spears,  etc  ,  outside.  This 
the  new-comers  did  after 
some  delay.  Mangi's  son 
then  told  me  that  his 
father  wanted  the  cattle 
I  had,  and  that  he  would 
send  my  rifles  when  I 
gave  him  the  bullocks. 
As  this  was  obviously 
meant  as  a  threat,  I  ordered 
my  native  corporal,  in 
the  Arabic  language,  to 
get  the  men  under  arms 
as  quickly  as  possible  and 
quietly  surround  my 
friends  the  Niam-Niams. 
This  was  done  very  ex- 
peditiously, and  then  I 
pointed  out  to  the  chief  that  he  would  have  to 
remain  with  me  until  the  rifles  were  returned, 
and  that  he  could  send  one  of  his  men  to 
inform  Mangi  that  unless  they  turned  up  that 
day  I  should  take  all  his  men  back  with  me  as 
prisoners. 

I  had  scored  a  point,  and  within  an  hour  the 
guns  were  returned  to  me.  I  then  informed 
Mangi's  son  that  he  and  his  men  were  at  liberty 
to  go,  and  was  soon  on  very  good  terms  with 
him.  Before  leaving  he  was  laughing  and  joking 
over  the  quiet  way  in  which  my  men  had 
surrounded  him. 

That   night,  however,  the   cannibals  showed 


NIAM-NIAMS. 

Photo. 


IN    THE    CLUTCHES    OF    CANNIBALS 


+23 


their  hand.  About  11.30  p.m. 
I  saw  lights  moving  about  in  the 
forest  and  heard  a  good  deal  of 
shouting.  I  found  out 
it  was  a  party  of  Niam- 
Niams,  who  evidently 
intended  to  harass  me 
all  night.  They  shouted 
out  and  informed  me 
that  we  were  in  Mangi's 
country,  and  must  re- 
main where  we  were  ; 
stating  that  he  would 
not  allow  us  to  go  on  or 
to  return,  and  that  he 
would  send  the  follow- 
ing day  and  take  the 
cattle  from  us.  By  way 
of  reply  I  redoubled 
the  guards,  and  next 
morning  these  night- 
birds  had  disappeared, 
1 


eaving  no  trace  of  their  where- 
abouts. 

I  took  a  party  out  some  miles 
farther  south  in  the  hopes  of 
coming  across  someone  to  show 
us  the  way,  but  was  not  successful.  During 
the  day  I  paraded  some  of  the  coolies  and 
gave  them  the  rifles  I  was  taking  to  Sultan 
Yumbio,  teaching  them  how  to  aim  and  fire. 
There  was  no  knowing  how  soon  I  should  want 
every  available  man  in  the  firing  line. 

I  remained  at  this  point  for  four  days,  but  saw 
nothing  further  of  the  Niam-Niams,  though 
several  of  my  men  disappeared — undoubtedly 
captured  and  killed  by  these  bloodthirsty  savages. 
Repeatedly  I  cautioned  the  men  about  going  too 
far  from  the  zareba,  as  the  treacherous  Niam- 
Niams  were  watching  us  narrowly,  and  were 
trying,  I  knew,  to  capture  as  many  of  my  men 
as  possible,  and  so  weaken  our  little  force.  The 
coolies,  however,  would  insist  upon  breaking 
out  into  the  forest  to  get  honey. 

Every  evening,  too,  I  was  worried  by  the 
incessant  shouts  and  threats  of  the  tribesmen, 
who  kept  me  awake  and  on  the  alert  the  greater 
part  of  the  night.  During  the  daytime,  however, 
they  disappeared. 

As  my  chief  object  was  to  get  to  Sultan 
Yumbio's,  I  decided  to  march  due  west.  Accord- 
ing to  maps  in  my  possession,  this  would  bring 
me  into  his  territory.  I  therefore  turned  back 
on  my  old  track  for  about  three  miles  and  then 
struck  due  west,  reaching  the  River  Sway  after 
eighteen  miles.  Crossing  this,  we  entered 
Yumbio's  dominions. 

Here  I  halted  for  lunch  and  unloaded  the 
donkeys.     I  had  hardly  started  eating,  however, 


I    SAW    LIGHTS   MOVING   AHOUT    IN    THE    FOREST. 


They  were  apparently 

that  I   had   got  away 

They  did  not  cross 


when  I  heard  a  fierce  shouting  from  the  eabt 
bank  of  the  river,  and  discovered  that  a  party 
of  about  three  hundred  armed  cannibals  had 
followed  hot  on  my  trail, 
greatly  enraged  to  think 
without  their  knowledge, 
the  river,  but  told  me  by  shouts  to  return  to  my 
country  the  same  way  that  I  had  come,  or  they 
would  attack  me.  Knowing  very  well  that  if  I 
did  return  they  would  have  an  ambush  waiting 
for  me,  I  decided  to  load  up  again  and  move 
along  the  river  until  I  came  to  an  open  space  tu 
camp,  as  I  was  now  in  thick  bushy  country, 
with  tall  grass,  eminently  favourable  to  the 
cannibals'  skulking  tactics. 

Placing  my  few  soldiers  along  the  river  bank 
to  prevent  the  enemy  from  crossing,  I  loaded  up 
and  started  at   1.30  p.m. 

The  Niam-Niams  promptly  crossed  the  river 
and  came  up  on  my  left  and  rear,  whereupon  I 
immediately   changed    the  position    of  my  few 

I  done  this  when,  with 

cannibals  rushed   down 

long  grass.     I  din 

and    reserve    th< 

them  off.     One  misfortune 

In    the   confusion    o(  the 


soldiers.  Hardly  had 
an  unearthly  yell,  the 
upon  us  through  the 
the  men  to  aim  low 
and  we  soon  beat 
befell  us,   however. 


fight    the     savages    managed     to  ire    my 

guide. 

Keeping  along  the  edge  of  the  river,  we 
crossed  a  dry  khor,  resting  on  the  far  side. 
Here  the  Niam-Niams  again  tried   to   rusli  us, 


424 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


but  once  more  they  were  beaten  back,  taking 
their  dead  and  wounded  with  them." 

During  this  rush  my  unfortunate  guide  was 
brought  forward  by  their  headman.  They 
dragged  him  to  a  large  ant-hill  and  then,  after 
shouting  to  attract  my  attention,  several  of  them 
speared  him  to  death,  afterwards  hacking  the 
body  to  pieces. 

The  cold-blooded  cruelty  of  the  murder  stung 
me  to  fury.  Raising  my  rifle,  I  drew  a  bead  on 
their  leader  and  sent  a  Jeffery's  split  bullet  clean 
through  his  chest  just  as  he  was  gloating  over 
the  poor  guide's  mangled  corpse. 

After  another  unsuccessful  rush  the  cannibals 
left  us  alone  until  late  in  the  afternoon,  when  I 
pitched  camp  on  open  ground,  placing  the  boxes 
in  a  circle  as  a  kind  of  barricade  for  my  small 


party.  I  had  already  lost 
several  men,  and  ammuni- 
tion was  running  terribly 
short. 

We  had  no  sooner  settled 
down  when  the  savages  came 
on  again.  They  were  now 
about  seven  hundred  strong,  but  were  afraid  to 
venture  too  near.  They  were  evidently  under  the 
impression  that  we  could  fire  no  farther  than  their 
own  bows  and  arrows  would  carry,  and  I  ordered 
the  men  only  to  shoot  when  the  Niam-Niams 
came  too  close. 

Directly  it  turned  dusk  they  retired  to  a  dis- 
tance of  about  five  hundred  yards  and  settled 
down  for  the  night,  lighting  camp  -  fires  and 
beating  tom-toms. 

During  the  evening  tom-toms  could  be  heard 
in  the  distance,  and  large  parties  came  in  con- 


RAIRINO    MY  RIFLE,  I    DREW  A  BEAD  ON     THEIR    LEADER. 


tinually  from  all  directions,  so  that  by  ten  p.m. 
our  little  party  was  completely  surrounded.  To 
make  matters  worse,  investigation  showed  that 
we  had  only  thirty  rounds  of  ammunition 
amongst  the  whole  of  us,  and  only  twenty-three 
men  left  out  of  the  fifty-four  who  originally 
started  with  me  on  this  perilous  "  patrol  "  ! 

Things  certainly  looked  desperate,  but  I  was 
not  going  to  give  up  hope.  Taking  my  inter- 
preter with  me  I  set  out  to  reconnoitre  our 
position,  crawling  carefully  along  on  all-fours. 

We  soon  discovered  the  camp-fire  of  the 
leaders,  and,  creeping  near,  were  able  to  over- 
hear the  conversation  of  the  savages.  I  found 
out  that  they  had  been  joined  by  Sultan 
Yumbio's  grandson,  who  had  taken  command, 
and  was  even  now  holding  a  council  of  war. 

They  decided  to  close 
on  my  party  in  the  morn- 
ing, rushing  us  from  all 
sides.  Everyone  but  my- 
self and  "  Bekhit,"  an  old 
Egyptian  employe  who  was 
with  me,  was  to  be  killed 
at  once.  Bekhit,  how- 
ever, was  to  be  tied  up 
and  his  feet  placed  in  a 
fire  ;  the  cannibals  blamed 
him  for  bringing  me  into 
their  country,  where  no 
white  man  had  ever  been 
before. 

As  to  me,  I  was  to  be 
kept  as  a  curio,  after  being 
slightly  disfigured.  Many 
of  them  had  never  seen  a 
white  man  before,  and 
they  desired  to  inspect 
me.  After  hearing  all  we 
could,  the  interpreter  and 
I  crept  silently  away 
through  the  grass. 

Anxiously  I  considered 
our  situation.  Owing  to 
their  vast  numbers — there 
were  now  at  least  four 
thousand  of  them — and 
our  lack  of  ammunition,  I  knew  it  would  be  only 
throwing  life  away  to  attempt  to  drive  them  off 
with  the  bayonet.  Could  we  get  away  without 
fighting?  Leaving  the  interpreter,  I  crept  round 
on  my  hands  and  knees,  hoping  to  find  a  place 
where  it  would  be  possible  to  get  through  their 
cordon  by  night.  To  my  great  joy,  I  discovered 
a  likely  spot  for  the  attempt  near  the  river. 

About  half-past  eleven,  having  regained  my 
camp,  I  set  several  of  the  men  to  work  to 
destroy  all  the  things  we  had  with  us.  It  was 
impossible  to  get  the  animals  across  the  river, 


IN    THE    CLUTCHES    OF    CANNIBALS. 


J-'S 


WE    WEKE   ABLE   TO   OVERHEAR   THE    CONVERSATION    OF    THE   SAVAGES 


and  I  had  lost  too  many  coolies  to  think  of 
attempting  to  bring  anything  away.  At  midnight, 
in  intense  darkness,  we  started  to  make  our 
attempt  to  escape  from  a  horrible  fate.  I  sent 
the  men  across  in  twos,  instructing  the  first  pair 
that,  if  they  succeeded  in  getting  through  safely, 
they  were  to  wait  about  half  a  mile  farther  on. 
When  they  had  gone,  the  rest  of  us  waited  in 
breathless  suspense.  As  they  crossed  the  river, 
it  seemed  to  me  as  if  a  whole  regiment  of 
soldiers  were  splashing  and  crashing  through 
the  reeds,  and  I  fully  expected  every  second  to 
hear  a  savage  yell  telling  that  our  escape  had 
been  discovered.  But  pair  after  pair  ran  the 
gauntlet  successfully,  and  no  sound  came  from 
the  sleeping  cannibals. 

Within  half  an  hour — the 
suspense  made  it  seem  like  a 
year — the  whole  of  my  little 
party  had  passed  safely  through 
the  cordon,  and  then,  with  a 
thankful  heart,  I  followed  them, 
taking  care  to  leave  our  camp- 
fires  burning  and  the  empty 
boxes  in  position. 

We  had  not  gone  far  when  I 
found  out  that  we  were  being 
followed  ;  evidently  some  of  the 
savages  had  discovered  our 
escape  !  They  seemed  afraid, 
however,  to  come  close,  our  vol- 
leys  having    apparently    taught 


themselves  with  keeping 
us  iii  sight 

1"  '  I  the 

I  day  ol  oui 
rchedth  wamps 

and  di  .•. ith  no 

tracks  to  follow, 
one  liiiinii 
I'Hir  niili  -  in  the 
time  of  fiftj  lour  hou 
with    a 

cannibals  following  in  our 
ps    watching     for    an 
opportunity  rwhelm 

our  little  paity.  But  by 
dint  of  unceasing  vigil- 
ance we  k<  p(  them  ofl 
Our  food  was  only  suffi- 
cient for  one  meal,  and 
for  three  days  we  had 
nothing  to  eat  or  drink. 
<  )ur  first  meal  consisted 
of  two  large  ■"edible  rats" 
about  three  feet   long. 

Just  before  getti ng  clear  of  the 
Niam-Niam  country,  where  we 
had  met  with  so  many  adventures,  we  stumbled 
unexpectedly  upon  a  cannibal  village.  This  1 
promptly  rushed  with  fixed  bayonets,  and  burnt, 
as  a  slight  return  for  their  treachery. 

We  reached  Rumbek — our  nearest  post — with- 
out further  incident.  Eight}  miles  before  this  our 
savage  pursuers  reluctantly  withdrew,  and  we  saw 
no  more  of  them.  I  marched  triumphantly 
into  Rumbek  one  morning  with  seventeen  men 
—all  that  remained  of  the  original  fifty-four  ! 

As  soon  as  possible  we  laid  down  to  sleep — 
utterly  worn  out — and  many  of  us  did  not  wake 
until  nearly  noon  the  next  day.     But  our  terrible 
journey  was  over,  and  we  had  come  back  - 
and  sound  out  of  the  clutch)  s  of  the  cannibals. 


them   a  lesson,   and  contented 

Vol.  xiv.— 54. 


THE   VILLAGE 


THAT    WAS    BURNT    AS   A    I 

From  a  Photo. 


Through  Japan  on  Foot. 

By  Marguerite  Roby. 

Illustrated  with  Photographs  taken  by  Count  Adrien  van  der  Burch. 

Being  a  brightly-written  account  of  a  six  weeks'  walking   tour   through    the   very  heart    of  Japan, 

following   the    old   pilgrim   roads,  and  penetrating  into    the    most   unknown    regions    of  Old   Japan. 

Mrs.  Roby  is  the  first  white  woman  to  make  the  journey,  and   her  experiences,   as  here  set   forth, 

are  both  interesting  and  amusing. 

II.-ASHIO    TO    KARUIZAWA. 


N  my  first  article  I  described  how, 
after  three  hours'  climbing,  we 
reached  the  top  of  Kochinsan,  some 
five  thousand  five  hundred  feet, 
making  altogether  from  Ashio  proper 
a  climb  of  nine  thousand  feet.  Coming  down 
was  much  easier,  following  a  zigzag  and  very 
steep  path  the  other  side  of  the  mountain.  Had 
we  happened  to  fall  as  we  came  down  we  should 
have  tumbled  into  a  bed  of  soft  furze.  Gaily 
laughing  and  chaff- 
ing we  reached  the 
temple  again,  and 
there  enjoyed  a  good 
luncheon  before  con- 
tinuing our  down- 
ward trip  to  Ashio. 
I  took  the  lead  on 
the  down  journey 
from  this  point  and 
walked  the  nine  miles 
back  to  Ashio  in  a 
little  over  two  hours. 
Very  glad  we  were 
to  reach  the  tea- 
house for  the  usual 
hot  bath  which  the 
Nasans  had  ready 
for  us,  after  the 
custom  of  Japan. 

While  at  dinner 
that  evening,  what 
was  our  amazement 
to  hear  the  sound  of 
foreign  voices  !  We 
decided  they  were 
German,  and  the 
Count,  on  the  vote 
of  the  party,  went 
forward  to  investi- 
gate. In  about  fifteen 
minutes  he  returned 


A    SCENE   IN    A    WAYSIDE    VILLAGE — WASHING    VEGETABLES    IN    RUNNING 

{Photo. 


From  a] 


WATER. 


and  reported  that  the  Germans  had  made 
the  same  trip  as  ourselves  at  Chusenji,  only 
that  when  they  arrived  at  the  little  wooden 
bridge  they  found  it  had  been  blown  away 
during  the  night.  They  therefore  had  to  crawl 
down  the  side  of  the  precipice  into  the  lower 
bed  of  the  river.  This  accounted  for  their  late 
arrival.  They  informed  us  of  their  intention  to 
walk  up  Kochinsan  next  day.  When  we  heard 
what  were  the  probable  weights  of  the  gentle- 
men we  laughed 
derisively,  and  our- 
selves decided  to  rest 
twenty-four  hours  in 
Ashio,  being  obliged 
to  confess  to  feeling 
frightfully  tired  and 
footsore.  The  next 
morning  at  six 
o'clock  we  were 
awakened  by  our 
bulky  German 
friends,  who  were 
calling  loudly  for 
rickshaws  and 
coolies,  whereat  we 
each  and  severally 
smiled  to  ourselves 
behind  the  screens. 
They  eventually  got 
off  with  the  Jap 
coolies  and  rick- 
shaws at  ten-thirty, 
and  even  then  not 
without  many  deep 
and  loud  German 
curses.  They  did 
not  know  the  Japa- 
nese coolie  as  we 
did.  At  six  o'clock 
that  evening  they  re- 
turned, and  proudly 


THROUC.H     fAPAN    ON    FOOT 


427 


From  hi 


IKAO,    THE   TOWN    OF    LAUDEK    STKEETb. 


\_Fnoto. 


Our  next  stopping-place  was  Ikao, 
the  town  of  ladder  streets,  where  \\> 
sonic  splendid  natural  mineral  baths  ; 
the  Jap  in  attendance  a  man.  I 
we  had  tim<  to  take  our  hats  off  he 
said,  in  English,  "  Please,  baths  is 
ready."  We  replied,  "No;  we  will 
take   our  baths  after  t<  But   being 

the  gentleman    in  charge  of   the   baths 
he  insisted,  and  we  had  to  bathe.      I 
next  morning,  at  six  dclock,  he  came, 
announcing:    "  O-Chi-San,     bath 
ready.''     "  No,"  the  O-Chi-San  replied, 
intimating  firmly  that  she  pr<  f<  rred  to 
have  tea  first.      Hut  the  gentleman  was 
inexorable,  and    I    had    to    forego  the 
usual  morning  luxury  and  to  bathe  then 
and  there.     This    man,   in  fact,  could 
he  have  had  his  way,  would  have  had 
us  live  in  his  baths  !     They  were  really 
good,   however.     The  natural   streams 
of  hot  and  cold  water  from  the  moun- 
tains are  allowed  to  run  into  the  bath 
itself,  which  is   of  wood  let   into   the 
ground,  this  arrangement  permitting  of 
any  desired  temperature. 

From  here  we  took  horses.  Thus 
far,  from  Ashio,  I  had  walked  in 
knickerbockers,  having  resolved  on 
descending  Kochinsan  never  again  to 
employ  a  skirt  on  the  trip. 


informed  us  they  had  been  up  Kochin- 
san. With  one  accord  we  involuntarily 
shouted  :  "  Liars  !  "  Fortunately,  not 
one  of  them  understood  English,  but 
as  our  faithful  guide  entered  just  then 
we  called  upon  him  to  learn  the  real 
facts  of  the  case  from  the  head  coolie, 
which  he  did.  The  head  coolie  in- 
formed him  that  the  three  foreigners 
had  walked  around  about  one  hundred 
yards  from  the  temple,  had  looked  up 
at  the  rocks,  and  given  vent  to  a  great 
many  "  Achs  !  " — which  Moreye  repro- 
duced, as  given  by  the  head  coolie,  in 
the  funniest  manner.  Then,  being 
full-blooded  Teutons  and  tempted  by 
the  very  good  Japanese  beer  on  sale 
at  the  temple,  they  decided  to  remain 
there  and  rest  and  then  return  to  the 
tea-house.  And  so  our  first  involuntary 
criticism  was  correct. 

The  following  morning  we  paid  our 
very  reasonable  bill  and  gave  the  usual 
"  cha,"  or  tea-money,  to  the  proprietor 
as  a  gift,  he  in  turn  presenting  each  of 
us  with  a  towel  and  a  passing  recom- 
mendation to  the  next  teahouse. 


r 


From  a]      the  striking  sky-sign  of  an  bntbi  i  '•  ■-       P**- 


428 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


prom  a\  IiEadv  hjk   hie   n<lP  through  the  forest. 

At  Ikao,  after  engaging  our  horses,  we  started 
on  an  excursion  to  the  temples  of  D'Haruma, 
passing  along  what  had  been  the  crater  of  a 
volcano,  but  was  now  a  magnificent  lake.  It 
was  a  brilliant  sunshiny  day,  and  we  took  boats 
to  cross  the  lake.  Before  we  had  been  out  five 
minutes  one  of  the  heaviest  mists  I  ever  saw  in 
my  life  sprang  up  and  obscured  everything. 
Then,  as  quickly  as  it  arose,  it  disappeared. 
Reaching  the  opposite  shore  of  the  lake  we 
determined  to  go  through  the  forest  for  the 
return  to  Ikao.  We  accordingly  remounted 
our  woebegone-looking  gee-gees,  which  in  spirit 
and  appearance  greatly  resembled  mules  at  the 
start,  but  now — evidently  affected  by  the 
weather — -fell  all  over  the  place.  Mr.  Crocker, 
whom  we  had  taken  up  again  at  Ashio, 
where  he  was  awaiting  us,  rode  on  his 
horse's  tail,  in  "  County  Mayo  fashion," 
declaring  it  much  easier  than  a  saddle. 
When  his  horse  lay  down  with  him  in 
the  middle  of  the  road,  however,  refus- 
ing to  budge,  he  said,  gently  :  "  I  think 
terra  firma  is  good  enough  for  me,"  and 
walked.  A  propos  of  a  Jap  saddle,  I 
would  remark  that  it  fulfils  my  idea  of 
what  being;  broken  alive  on  the  wheel 
must  feel  like. 

My  fox-terrier  Squiff  and  my  little 
Japanese  spaniel  Kiku,  bought  at  Kobe, 
who  figures  in  some  of  the  photographs, 
did  the  tour  thoroughly.  Squiff,  in  fact, 
is  one  of  the  most  travelled  dogs  in  the 
world.  He  has  journeyed  with  me 
through  India,  Burma,  China,  America, 
France,  Sardinia,  Austria,  Turkey,  and 
Egypt.  He  is  a  great  warrior,  and 
covered  with  wounds. 

But  let  us  return  to  our  horses.     The 


Jap  pack-horse  is  impossible  for  riding. 
He  is  all  right  with  luggage  going  up- 
hill, but  coming  down  he  stumbles  at 
every  step.  We,  however,  had  little 
reason  to  regret  our  return  to  walking, 
for  it  gave  us  longer  time  to  spend  in 
the  forest  of  Ikao,  which  is  wonderful. 
Here  were  trees  with  marvellous  foliage, 
millions  of  gorgeous  butterflies,  which 
live  only  twenty-four  hours,  moths  in- 
numerable, exquisite  flowers,  scented 
air,  and  tranquillity  indescribable.  After 
a  three-mile  walk  a  path  brings  one  to 
the  temples  of  D'Haruma.  These  are 
scattered  under  gigantic  cryptomerias 
and  rocks  of  fantastic  shape,  which 
seem  to  constantly  menace  them  with 
disaster.  Remarkable  specimens  of 
sculpture,  the  work  of  Japanese  artists, 
are  to  be  found  there,  among  them  two 
wonderful  dragons  supporting  the  entrance, 
which  struggle  together  and  push  out  towards 
those  who  enter  the  sacred  building  a  pair  of 
threatening  tongues. 

At  Ikao  our  bath  instructor  was  still  awaiting 
us,  for  the  Japanese  insist  that  you  shall  bathe 
on  the  slightest  provocation.  Starting  next 
morning  for  Kusatsu,  we  crossed  huge  valleys 
where  fields  of  rice  alternated  with  olive  groves. 
The  cryptomerias  intrude  on  the  verdure  of  the 
fields  with  their  sombre  green,  everywhere  indi- 
cating the  presence  of  Shinto  temples,  where 
the  traveller  in  passing  drops  a  coin  and  invokes 
the  protection  of  the  gods.  The  cryptomeria- 
groves  are  the  cypresses  of  Japan. 

We  were,   in   fact,  in  a  flourishing  agricultural 


{Photo. 


liXIKAUKUINAKY    ROCK    IN    THE    FOREST    OF    IKAO.  \,t',lotO. 


THROUGH    JAPAN    ON     FOOT 


429 


region.  The  road  presented  an  animated  scene, 
and  every  moment  we  passed  coolies  carrying  on 
their  backs  huge  packages — heavy  bales  of  silk 
which  they  were  taking  on  to  the  neighbouring 
town,  and  which  they  balance  by  means  of  two 
pieces  of  bamboo  placed  across  the  shoulders. 
The  villages  were  numerous,  clean,  and  plentifully 
provided  with  tea-houses  and  hotels,  a  fact  which 
testified  to  the  commercial  importance  of  the 
place.  On  the  doorsteps  the  women  sorted  the 
cocoons,  and  numerous  pilgrims  travelled  along 
the  road  or  rested  in  the  shade.  The  population 
was  good-natured.  Men,  women,  and  children 
surrounded  us  at  the  stopping-places,  laughing 
and  seeking  to  engage  us  in  conversation. 
Europeans  rarely  come  so  far,  but  we  never 
once  had  to  complain  of  an  unkind  act. 

We   had  at  last  to  take  to  a  narrow  bridle- 
path,   which   was  occupied  at   the  moment   by 
two    old    people, 
a    man    and    a 
woman,     in    pan- 
niers,   who    were 

probably  too  old  -^0k 

to  take  the  road. 
They  looked  at 
us  with  an  air  of 
profound  aston- 
ishment, unaware 
that  they  them- 
selves were  ob- 
jects of  curiosity. 
Captivated  by  the 
charm  of  the 
route  and  its  nu- 
merous distrac- 
tions we  covered 
the  miles  without 
beins:    aware     of 


_^^d^ 


)F   THE    PUBLIC    BATH-HOUSES   AT    Kl 


them,  when,  sud- 
denly, at  a  turn  of  the  path  in  the  valley,  we 
perceived  beneath  us,  in  a  sort  of  hollow  in  the 
mountains,  the  little  town  of  Kusatsu. 

We  reached  it  at  seven  p.m.,  having  been  two 
days  on  the  journey  from  Ikao,  stopping  the  one 
night  at  a  charming  tea-house.  Here  for  the  first 
time  I  displayed  my  culinary  powers  to  the  full. 
You  must  picture  to  yourselves  a  lady  with  bare 
feet,  dressed  in  a  kimono,  sitting  tailor-fashion  on 
a  cushion.  Four  small  charcoal  fires,  resembling 
flower-pots,  were  burning  around  me,  and  rice, 
chicken,  potatoes,  asparagus,  and  clam  chowdah 
stood  in  front.  I  not  only  cooked  all  these,  but 
I  did  justice  to  them  afterwards,  as  did  every- 
body else,  and  enough  was  left  over  for  our  next 
day's  luncheon,  as  there  was  no  place  en  route 
where  we  could  get  food.  On  arriving  at 
Kusatsu  we  found  we  had  lost  our  friend  Mr. 
Crocker  on  the  way.     He  was,  in  fact,  the  only 


tired  and  silent  member  of  the  party,  and  on 
account  of  this  we  named  him  "  Weary  Willie." 
I    regret    I    have    no    picture    of    him    for   this 
article.     It    is    necessary   to    imagine    for    the 
purpose,  therefore,  a  man  over  six  feet,  fair,  thin, 
and   languid,  a  regular   Fifth  Avenue   "du< 
always    tired,    always    late   for   everything    and 
equally  never  ready,  on  a  walking  tour  through 
the  heart  of  Japan  !     "Weary  Willie"  reached 
Kusatsu  at  midnight.     Asked  why  he  was  ' 
he  explained  that  walking  up  became  so  boring 
that  he  had   changed  about  and    retraced   his 
steps    part   of    the    way    before   attacking    the 
remaining  distance,  as  he  felt  so  tired  of  climb- 
ing !     It  may  be  explained  en  passant  that  th 
are  two  roads,  the  old  and  the  new,  which  are 
also  the  upper  and  lower  road.     The  new  road 
is  cut  in  the  mountain-side  and  is  much  longer. 
This  was  the  road  which  "Weary  Willie"  took. 

A  propos  of  his 
approach  to  Ku- 
satsu, which  is 
the  centre  of  the 
great  sulphur 
baths  and  lakes 
of  Japan,  he  said 
languidly  at  break- 
fast :  "  Say,  you 
people,  when  I 
was  getting  near 
this  village  I 
smelt  brimstone 
and  heard  a 
bubbling  and  a 
rumbling,  and  I 
just  said  to  my- 
self, '  Gee  whiz  ! 
this  is  Hades  !' 

W  h  i 1 e  this 
eccentric  charac- 
ter was  talking  to  us  we  heard  a  volume  of  yells, 
and,  racing  out  of  the  tea-house  to  inquire  what 
was  the  matter,  we  were  told  to  go  over  to  the 
public  baths  and  look.  We  did  so,  and  saw  a 
sight  not  to  be  forgotten. 

Kusatsu  is,  in  fact,  the  great  leper  settlement 
of  the  world.  Lepers  go  there  from  all  pari 
take  the  baths,  and  persons  affected  with  innu- 
merable other  diseases  also.  The  baths  are  not 
compulsory,  but  early  in  the  morning  a  man  in 
charge  rings  a  bell  and  the  sufferers  come  in 
squadrons.  Again  the  bell  rings  and  each  man 
picks  up  a  plank  of  about  two  yards  long  and 
two  feet  broad,  and  begins  to  beat  the  sulphur 
water  in  the  baths  until  it  becomes  cooler,  for 
this  water  of  Kusatsu  is  boiling,  not  merely  hot, 
and  running  all  the  time.  In  fact,  it  is  part  of 
a  great  boiling,  bubbling  sulphur  lake  enclosed 
in  bath-houses.      Again  the  bell  rang,  and  all 


[Photo. 


43° 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


THE    HOT    SULPHUR    BATHS   AT   KUSATSU,  TO   WHICH    PEOPLE    TRAVEL    PROM 

From  a]  all  parts  of  japan.  [Photo. 


knelt  down  and  poured  about  twenty  pannikins 
of  this  boiling  water  on  their  heads  "  to  send  the 
blood  down."     Once  more  the  bell  pealed  out 
and  every  man  stepped  into  the  bath.     It  was  at 
this  climax  that  the  yells  which  bad  so  alarmed 
us     burst    from    the 
half -scalded    multi- 
tude.     Again  the 
bell,  and  they  sat  in 
the    water    to    their 
shoulders.     After 
three     minutes     the 
bell    sounded    once 
more,    and    a   great 
sigh  of  content  went 
up  from  the  bathers 
as     they    scrambled 
out    of    the    bath — 
considerablyquicker, 
poor  wretches,   than 
they    went    in,    and 
looking    like   boiled 
lobsters. 

My  husband,  who 
is  a  physician,  says 
no    microbe     could 

possibly  live  after  one  dip  in  this  boiling  sulphur 
water.  It  is  never  for  one  instant  the  same 
water,  a  continuous  stream  being  kept  up  from 
the  source,  and  the  temperature  is  only  momen- 
tarily reduced  by  the  system  of  beating  the 
water.  The  institution  of  the  baths  is  an 
honorary  or  voluntary  one,  and  there  are  no 
fees  of  any  kind.  The  healthy  women  and 
girls  of  the  village  look  like  Devonshire  peasants, 
with  a  beautiful  bloom  on  their  cheeks  and 
skins  several  degrees  fairer  than  the  rest  of 
Japan. 

From  the  "cure" 
at  Kusatsu  most  of 
the  patients  pro- 
ceed to  another 
at  Sawatari  or 
Shibu.  The  num- 
ber of  baths  taken 
is  about  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty, 
and  consists  of 
five  per  day,  the 
patients  placing 
themselves  volun- 
tarily under  the 
direction  of  a  cure- 
master,  who  exer- 
cises the  firmest 
discipline.  The 
waters  contain,  it 
is  stated,  princi 
pally      sulphur, 


THE   CURIOUS    BRIDGE   OK    BOATS   AT   SHIBU. 


alum,  iron,  and  arsenic,  their  temperature  vary- 
ing from  one  hundred  to  one  hundred  and  sixty 
degrees.  A  secondary  effect  of  the  cure  is 
to  set  up  a  painful  skin  irritation,  which  is 
allayed,    it    is    said,    by    the    waters    of    Shibu. 

Besides     the     more 
terrible  diseases  said 
to     be     beneficially 
affected  at  Kusatsu, 
rheumatism,     ague, 
gout,  and   all   afflic- 
tions of  the  skin  are 
treated  successfully. 
We    went    from 
Kusatsu    to    Shibu. 
The  latter  is  not  un- 
like a  Sussex  village. 
It   was  a   long   and 
tiresome    march     of 
nearly  twenty  miles, 
and  when  we  arrived 
I    was  dead   to   the 
world.      There  was, 
however,    the    usual 
ordeal   of    the    bath 
to  be  undergone. 
After  gathering    all    my   belongings  together 
and   going  into   the   bath-house,    I    found   the 
water  was  too  hot  and  called  for  a  boy  to  bring 
plenty  of  cold.     Then   I  looked  for  the  door. 
There  was  no  door  !     The  bath  was  open  by  its 
entrance  to  the  wide  world  !   As  the  Japanese  are 
very  much  interested  in  white  women  I  had  to 
shriek  for  my  attendant  to  keep  off  the  crowd 
which  clustered  at   the   doorway,  and    showed 
disconcerting  signs  of  entering,  evidently  regard- 
ing  me  as   a   mere   walking   novelty.     When   I 

had  taken  my  bath 
I  went  to  bed,  too 
tired  to  eat.  Next 
morning,  the  whole 
party  confessing  to 
extreme  fatigue,  we 
decided  that,  if 
there  were  rick- 
shaws or  carriages 
of  any  kind  to  be 
had,  we  would 
ride,  and  walk  no 
more.  Interview- 
ing the  landlord  of 
the  tea-house  on 
the  subject  of  con- 
veyances, he  in- 
formed us  we  could 
have  a  carriage  and 
a  pair  of  horses. 
I  have  already 
described  Japanese 


[/  HO  CO. 


THROUGH    JAPAN    ON     FOOT. 


43i 


1HE    AUTHORESS    IN    HER    KICKSHAW   ON    THE    WAY   TO    NAOONA, 
From  a  Photo. 

horses.  These  were  the  same,  only  different. 
As  for  the  carriage,  which  came  round  in  due 
course,  I  am  sure  it  was  the  first  the  Dutch  ever 
landed  in  the  country.  When  we  got 
into  it  our  guide  politely  informed  us 
that  he  preferred  to  walk.  He  had  pro- 
bably been  in  that  conveyance  before. 

The  whole  village  turned  out  to  see 
us  as  we  gaily  drove  away.  We  had 
not  gone  five  hundred  yards  from  the 
tea-house  when  our  horses  showed  signs 
of  restiveness,  and  as  we  were  driving 
along  the  very  verge  of  a  precipice  this 
was  somewhat  trying.  Having  gone  so 
far  without  accidents,  we  decided  to  get 
out  and  seek  for  rickshaws.  Scarcely 
had  we  dismounted  from  our  Noah's 
Ark  when  the  horses  flew  away  up  the 
road.  We  stood  still  in  breathless 
silence,  wondering  what  was  going  to 
happen  next,  and  as  they  disappeared 
from  sight,  still  going  strong,  we  breathed 
a  sigh  of  relief.  The  village,  however, 
failed  to  produce  more  than  one  rick- 
shaw for  five  people,  so  I  took  the 
rickshaw    while    the    men    arranged   to 


follow  on  foot.  The  rickshaw  man  was 
lusty.  Although  the  road  was  stony 
and  I  was  heavy,  being  burdened  with 
a  dog  and  a  Murray's  Guide,   the   man 

bounded  along  at  a  terrifi 

I  shrieked  at   the   top  of    my  v< 

•l  Mali  '.  mail  .' "  (-low  >,  hut  tin-  man 
[iaid  no  heed  whatever.     : 

where  I  was  (  r  what  had  happened  I 
was  in  the  dyke  dog,  book,  rickshaw, 
coolie,  everything  swimming.  But, 
cruellest  blow  of  all,  before  I  could 
pull  myself  together,  the  Count,  an 
insatiable  photographer,  rushed  up, 
exclaiming:  "Oh,  please  keep  quiet! 
You  look  so  funny!"  but  he  saw 
from  my  face  that  I  was  badly  shaken 
up,  and  did  not  press  the  point— or 
the  button  of  his  camera  either,  for 
which  I  was  grateful  I  gathered 
myself  together,  rated  the  coolie,  picked 
up  my  dog,  and  decided  to  walk.  At 
the  next  village,  however,  plenty  of 
rickshaws  were  to  be  had,  and  in  these 
we  proceeded  on  our  way  to  Nagona 
to  see  "  the  greatest  Buddha  in  the 
world."  Thence  we  proceeded  to 
Karuizawa,  where  we  found  our  lug- 
gage, which  had  been  sent  on  from  Yokohama, 
together  with  all  the  supplies  intended  for  the 
trip  down  the  Nakusendo. 


WORI  : 


(To  be  conclua 


The  Secret  of  Miss  Stone's  Capture  by  Brigands. 

By  Frederick  Moore. 

Our  readers  will  remember  the  tremendous  stir  created  both  in  Europe  and  America  by  the 
capture  of  Miss  Stone  by  Macedonian  brigands,  and  her  subsequent  ransom  after  months  of 
delay.  Very  few  people  know,  however,  that  there  was  a  secret  in  connection  with  the  episode — 
a  secret  involving  the  hoodwinking  both  of  the  Turkish  Government  and  the  newspapers.  The 
full  facts  of  this  strange  affair  are  now  published  for  the  first  time. 


HERE  is  a  secret  in  connection  with 
the  famous  capture  of  Miss  Ellen  M. 
Stone  which  involves  in  itself  a  most 
interesting  story,  but  the  secret  does 
not  lie  where  gossip  puts  it. 
I  have  often  been  asked  if  the  capture  of  Miss 
Stone  was  "genuine,"  and,  indeed,  some  of  the 
facts  in  the  case  seem  to  warrant  this  question. 
Miss  Stone  was  in  sincere  sympathy  with  the 
Macedonian  cause 
at  the  time  of  her 
capture  by  Bulga- 
rian brigands,  and 
since  the  affair 
her  ardour  has 
not  abated  in  the 
slightest.  Her 
com  pan  ion  i  n 
captivity,  Mrs. 
Katherine  S. 
Tsilka,  was  a  Bul- 
garian, of  the  same 
race  as  are  the 
Macedonian  s; 
and  the  kidnap- 
ping was  planned 
by  the  Macedo- 
nian Revolution- 
ary Committee  for 
the  purpose  of 
augmenting  its 
funds  for  the  late 
uprising  against 
the  Turks.  The 
knowledge  of 
these  facts  has 
caused  some  sus- 
picion that  Miss 
Stone  was  an  ac- 
complice to  her 
own  capture.  As 
a  matter  of  fact, 
however,  her  atti 
tude  in  herlectures 
and  writings  is  due 
solely  and  entirely 


I  HE   CAVAICAUE    K    Dli    1MKECTLY    INTO    THE    AMUU-.H. 


to  an  honest  sympathy,  not  with  the  insurgents, 
but  with  the  people  for  whom  they  are  fighting 
— the  Christians  of  European  Turkey.  The 
account  of  her  kidnapping,  as  narrated  in  the 
Press  at  the  time,  is  perfectly  true.  But  that, 
nevertheless,  there  is  a  curious  secret  in  the 
affair  I  will  presently  show. 

Early   in    July,    1901,   a   party   of  Protestant 
missionaries  and  teachers — among  whom  Miss 

Stone  was  the 
only  bo?ia-fide 
foreigner — left  the 
American  school 
at  Samakov,  in 
Bulgaria,  and 
crossed  the  Turk- 
ish frontier  to 
1  )juma-bala.  From 
Djuma  they  went 
on  a  religious 
tour  of  the  Raslog 
district  without  an 
escort  ;  consider- 
ing that  the  party, 
numbering  fifteen, 
was  too  large  to 
be  molested.  To- 
wards nightfall  of 
the  first  day  out 
the  travellers, 
growing  weary, 
a  1  lowed  their 
ponies  to  straggle, 
as  the  Macedonian 
pony  is  wont  to 
do,  into  a  long 
line,  one  behind 
the  other.  At 
dark  the  caval- 
cade began  to 
ascend  a  rugged 
mountain  in  this 
order,  and  rode 
directly  into  the 
ambush  laid  for 
the     American 


THE    SECRET   OF   MISS   STONE'S   CAP  TURK    BY    BRIGANDS. 


433 


missionary.  It  was 
an  easy  matter  for  the 
brigands  to  "  round 
up "  the  whole  party 
without  firing  a  single 
shot.  It  had  been 
the  plan  of  the  insur- 
gents to  capture  a 
man,  but  Miss  Stone 
had,  unfortunately  for 
herself,  taken  the 
place  of  one  of  the 
male  Americans  on 
this  trip.  The  bri- 
gands had  no  use  for 
the  rest  of  the  party, 
but  as  company  for 
Miss  Stone  they 
detained  Mrs.  Tsilka 
to  be  her  companion, 
and  sent  the  others 
on  their  way. 

The  sum  demanded 
for      Miss     Stone's 
ransom     was     twenty- 
five  thousand  Turkish 
"  liras,"  slightly  less  in 
value    than    so    many 
English  pounds.    The 
American    Govern- 
ment, not  always  so 
energetic   in   dealing 
with    cases    of    kid- 
napping as  it  was  in 
the  Perdicaris  affair, 
took   no  effective 
measures    to   secure 
the    release    of     its 
subject,  and   it   was 
left  to  the  American 
people       themselves 
to      subscribe      the 
amount   needed    for 
Miss  Stone's  ransom. 
In  a  few  months  ap- 
proximately  sixty- 
eight    thousand   dol- 
lars (fourteen    thou- 
sand    five     hundred 
pounds  Turkish)  was 
collected,    and     the 
American       Consul- 
General  at  Constan- 
tinople was   sent    to 
Sofia  to  negotiate  the 
ransom.    But  in  Bul- 
garia he  was  annoyed 
by   the    people    and 
Press  and  hampered 

Vol.  xiv.— 55. 


MR.    PEET,  WHO  WAS   A    MEMBER   OF    THE   COMMITTEE    SELECTED 

BY   THE    AMERICAN    MINISTER   TO    PAY   OVER    MISS   STONE'S 

RANSOM    TO    THE    BRIGANDS. 

From  a  Photo,  by  Scbah  &*  Joaillier,  Constantinople. 


DR.   J 


HENRY   HOUSE,    ANOTHEH 

From  a  Photo,  by  M.  I-  Wtda, 


by  the  Government, 
and  so.  m  found  u  im- 
practicable to  pay  the 
money  to  th  ads 

from   that  side  of   the 
border.      The  Ortho- 
dox churchmen   "t 
Bulgaria  have  no  sym- 
pathy for  the  Ameri- 
can   evangelists,    and 
the    Government,    for 
its  part,  sought  to  pre- 
vent   the    payment 
tin-    ransom    on     I 
garian    soil,   lest    they 
should  be  called  upon 
to  refund  the  amount 
at  a  later  date  by  the 
United  States. 

At  the  end  of  five 
months  from   the  date 
of    the    capture,    Mr. 
Diekenson,  the  Ameri- 
can   Consul  -General, 
had  accomplish^  d  only 
an  agreement  with  the 
brigands     that      Miss 
Stone  should  be  set  at 
liberty  on  payment  of 
the  sum  collected,  in 
lieu  of  the  one  de- 
manded.    He  there- 
fore   returned    to 
Constantinople,   and 
transferred  the  work 
to  a  committee  selec- 
ted by  the  American 
Minister  on  instruc- 
tions from  Washing- 
ton.       In    the   work 
of     this    committee 
lies  the  secret. 

According    to  the 
accounts  sent  to  their 
papers  at  the  time  by 
the      correspondents 
who  dogged  the  t 
steps    of    tin:    t 
gentlemen     forming 
the       committ 
Messrs  1' 

and  Garguilo  trans- 
ported the  fourt< 
thousand  \\yc  hun- 
dred pounds  (Turk- 
ish) in  irerhun- 
dr  nilesofwild 
mountain  roa 
doubling     on     their 


434 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


tracks  almost  daily  in  their  aimless  search  for  a 
favourable  opportunity  to  deliver  the  money  to 
the  brigands  at  a  moment  when  the  Turkish 
troops  who  followed  them  were  taking  forty  winks. 
But — the  newspapers  reported — the  ransoming 
committee  finally  despaired,  sent  the  gold  back 
to  Constantinople,  secured  bank-notes  in  its 
stead,  and  paid  two  agents  of  the  insurgents 
in  paper  money  at  a  cross-road  when  they  (the 
committee)  managed  to  escape  the  vigilance  of 
the  Turkish  soldiers  for  a  few  minutes.  But  the 
correspondents  were  sadly  duped,  for  necessity 
and    the    brigands  de- 


later,     in     Bulgaria,     I 
Sandansky's    band  (the 


a     member    of 
which    had    Cap- 


manded that  they 
should  be  placed  in  the 
same  category  as  the 
Turks,  and  regarded  as 


of 


danger 
and 


instruments 

to   the   brigands ; 

the    true     account    of 

how   the   ransom   was 

paid  has  been  kept  a 

secret  to  this  day. 

It  was  no  such  simple 
matter  as  the  corre- 
spondents on  that  mis- 
sion made  out,  and  the 
account,  if  one  of  the 
committee  could  tell 
it,  would  make  a  most 
readable  volume.  But 
the  committee  is  bound 
bv  a  promise  to  the 
insurgents  to  keep 
secret  for  ever  certain 
of  the  details  and  the 
place  of  the  payment, 
and  I  am  able  to  give 
only  a  bare  outline  of 
the  adventure. 

I  first  learned  that 
the  accounts  of  the  ran- 
soming published  in 
the  Press  were  errone- 
ous from  Mr.  Garguilo, 
whom  I  met  one  day 
at  the  American  Lega- 
tion at  Constantinople, 

of  which  he  is  the  dragoman.  He  was  consider- 
ably elated  at  having  defeated  some  worthy  men 
among  my  colleagues  and  the  Turkish  police  at 
the  same  time.  He  told  me  bits  of  the  story 
which  whetted  my  curiosity,  and  I  resolved  to 
run  the  facts  to  earth. 

Before  I  left  Constantinople  I  called  on  Mr. 
Peet  at  his  office,  the  head-quarters  of  the 
American  Mission  Board,  and  in  the  course  of 
a  conversation  about  the  Stone  affair  added  a 
few  more  facts  to  those  Mr.  Garguilo  had  given 


A.  GARGUILO,    THE   THIRD 

From  a  Photo,  by  Phebus,  Constantinople. 


me.  It  was  my  good  fortune  not  long  after  to 
meet  Dr.  House  at  the  American  mission  at 
Salonica,  and  I  took  the  opportunity  of  dis- 
cussing the  affair  with  him. 

As  I  proceeded  through  Macedonia — I  was 
reporting  the  news  of  the  revolution  for  an 
American  paper — I  encountered  first  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Tsilka  at  Monastir,  then  the  Turkish 
officer  who  had  been  detached  to  follow  the 
fourteen   thousand    five   hundred   pounds,   and 

found 
band 

tured  Miss  Stone) 
lying  wounded  in  a 
frontier  hospital  im- 
provised for  suffering 
refugees,  who  were 
then  fleeing  from  the 
persecutions  of  the 
Turks. 

The  wounded  bri- 
gand was  the  most 
voluble  of  all  the  prin- 
cipals in  the  affair 
whom  I  encountered, 
and  I  drew  from  him 
—  through  a  Russian 
who  acted  as  my  inter- 
preter— the  last  threads 
of  the  whole  strange 
story.  It  was  over  a 
year  ago  that  I  got  the 
account  in  the  shape 
I  give  it  here,  but  until 
now  I  have  been  ques- 
tioning the  advisability 
of  publishing  it  lest,  as 
the  insurgents  feared, 
punishment  should  be 
meted  out  by  the  Turks 
to  the  town  which 
played  the  important 
part  in  the  delivery  of 
the  ransom.  But  mas- 
sacres and  the  destruc- 
tion of  Christian  towns 
have  ceased  for  the 
time  being  in  Mace- 
donia, and  I  think  the  true  account  of  how 
Miss  Stone  was  actually  ransomed  can  now  be 
given  with  impunity,  especially  as  the  insurgents, 
since  that  date,  have  themselves  told  many  of 
the  main  points  in  the  affair. 

On  Mr.  Dickenson's  return  from  Sofia  the 
ransom  committee  was  selected  and  sent  to  the 
Raslog  district.  The  brigands  at  this  juncture 
had  become  indignant  at  the  long  delay  in  the 
payment  of  the  money  and  had  broken  off 
negotiations    with    the   Americans.      The    first 


MEMBEIi    OF    THE    COMMITTEE. 


THE    SECRET    OF    MISS    STONE'S    CAPTURE     BY     BRIGANDS. 


4.55 


..vUlHEK    EXAMINATION  OF  THE  SMUGGLERS  WAS  MADE. 


work  of  the  new  committee,  then,  was  to 
re-establish  communication  with  the  insur- 
gents, and,  in  order  to  let  the  brigands 
learn  that  they  were  in  search  of  them,  the 
news  of  the  fact  was  disseminated  broad- 
cast throughout  the  district  and  also  sent  to 
the  European  Press,  which  the  revolutionary 
organization  follows  closely.  This  eventu- 
ally accomplished  the  desired  effect,  but 
also  caused  the  number  of  correspondents 
on  the  heels  of  the  committee  to  be  in- 
creased. The  brigands  were  as  wary  of  the 
newspaper  men  as  they  were  of  Turkish 
soldiers. 

For  nearly  a  month  the  committee  moved 
from  town  to  town  through  the  snow — for 
it  was  now  winter — faring  on  the  coarsest 
of  food,  sleeping  in  comfortless  Mace- 
donian "  hahns  "  under  old  and  dirty  home- 
spun blankets,  but  meeting  with  no  success 
in  their  difficult  mission.  Trail  after  trail 
was  drawn  blank.  On  one  occasion  word 
was  brought  to  them  that  frontier  smugglers, 
captured  by  the  Turks,  had  professed  to 
having  seen  Miss  Stone  and  Mrs.  Tsilka's 
baby  strangled,  and  could  take  the  com- 
mittee to  the  graves !  There  had  been 
several  other  reports  that  the  brigands  had 


wearied  of  waiting  for  the  ransom  and 
had  killed  their  hapless  prisoners,  but 
none  so  detailed  as  this.  The  Turkish 
authorities,  who  had  secured  this  ■ 
dence,  wire  anxiously  asked  for  further 
facts.  Another  examination  ol  lug- 

glers  was  made,  and  the  follow  i 
a  telegram  came  to  the  effect  that  they 
were   altering     their    testimony. 
"alterations"  were  awaited   with    great 
anxiety,  and  finally  came  in  the  form  ol 
a  complete  denial  of  the  first  statemi 
without  even  an  excuse  on  the  part  of 
the  smugglers  for  having  concocted    so 
false  a  story.      It  seems  the  Turks  had 
asked    them    for    information    of    Y 
Stone.    When  interrogated  by  the  Turks 
the    Christian     peasant    of    Macedonia 
always    replies   according    to    what    he 
thinks  his  questioners  desire  to  hear  ;  for 
the  truth  in  Turkey  never  brings  reward, 
though  often  severe  punishment. 

After  a  while  the  committee  separated, 
Messrs.  Feet  and  Garguilo  establishing 
themselves  at  Djuma-bala  and  I  >r. 
House  going  to  Bansko,  the  most 
rebellious    town   of     a    most    rebellious 


IK.    S.MYTH-t.YTE,    Ol-    THE    AMERI  u    HIS  '    KAVASS. 

F>q»i  a  Pliotc. 


436 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


district,  "to  conduct  a  series  of  missionary 
meetings."  Dr.  House  was  the  only  member  of 
the  committee  who  could  speak  Bulgarian  and 
converse  direct  with  the  brigands,  and  his  action 
was  severely  criticised  by  the  correspondents. 
As  the  journalists  saw  the  case,  here  was  a 
member  of  the  committee,  the  most  valuable 
man  because  of  his  knowledge  of  the  brigands' 
language,  wasting  valuable  time  preaching 
Christianity  to  Christians  just  when  his  every 
effort  should  be  devoted  to  the  task  he  had 
undertaken — 
that  of  freeing 
two  unfortunate 
women  and  a 
new-  born  babe 
who  were  suffer- 
ing untold  tor- 
tures in  some 
sheepfold  high 
in  the  snow- 
covered  moun- 
tains. But  the 
correspondents 
were  not  aware 
of  the  fact  that 
Dr.  House  had 
escaped  their 
vigilance  and 
that  of  the 
Turks,  and, 
under  the  guid- 
ance of  an  in- 
surgent dis- 
guised as  an 
ordinary  peas- 
ant, had  visited  a  delegation  of  the  bri- 
gands, nor  did  they  know  that  this  series 
of  "  religious  meetings  "  in  the  Bulgarian 
town  was  merely  a  means  devised  for 
conducting  further  negotiations  and  paying 
the  ransom. 

After  Dr.  House  had  got  in  touch  with 
the  brigands  the  money  was  sent  for.  Mr. 
Smyth-Lyte,  of  the  American  Consulate, 
conveyed  it  from  Constantinople.  Two 
cases,  containing  fourteen  thousand  five 
hundred  gold  pieces  and  weighing  four 
hundred  pounds,  were  delivered  to  him 
from  the  Ottoman  Bank,  where  the  ransom 
fund  had  been  deposited.  The  bullion 
was  sent  under  proper  guard  to  the  railway 
station,  where  a  special  car  was  awaiting  it.  As  a 
personal  guard  two  Cro-ite  kavasses  were  sent 
with  Mr.  Smyth-Lyte  from  the  bank,  and 
these  two  bodyguards  always  slept  on  the 
money.  At  Demir-Hissar,  where  the  train 
journey  ended,  Mr.  Smyth-Lyte  was  met  by  a 
Turkish  officer,  who  informed  him  in  polished 


French  that  he  (the  officer)  was  the  humble 
servant  of  Monsieur  the  Consul,  for  whom 
the  Padisha  (Abdul  Hamid)  had  the  greatest 
concern.  Monsieur's  commands,  he  added, 
would  be  fulfilled  even  to  the  death  of  the  officer 
and  twenty  trusty  troopers  who  were  under  hi? 
command.  The  Turkish  officer  was  suave  and 
smart,  as  Turkish  officers  always  are,  and  the 
trusty  troopers  were  ragged  and  dirty,  as  Turkish 
soldiers  generally  are.  Some  had  great-coats  of 
many  odd  parts,  which  covered  seatless  trousers  ; 

some  were  clad 
in  European 
garments  which 
had  been  shed 
long  since  by 
their  original 
owners.  All 
were  "  things  of 
shreds  and 
patches,"  but 
the  Turks  all 
have  good  guns 
and  strong 
ponies. 

A  rickety  vic- 
toria —  which 
had  long  since 
played  its  part 
in  some  large 
city  and  was 
now  held  to- 
gether by  many 
odd  pieces  of 
rope — was  ready 
to  take  Mr. 
Smyth-Lyte  and 
the  money  to 
Djuma-bala,  a 
two  days'  jour- 
ney. The  four 
tiny  mountain 
ponies,  harnes- 
sed all  abreast, 
were  animated 
masses  of  skin 
and  bones,  but 
hardy  enough  to 
drag  the  ancient 
vehicle,  if  that 
rattletrap  con- 
veyance could  carry  the  weight  imposed 
upon  it.  The  two  packages  of  gold  were 
loaded  into  it,  the  troopers  formed  a  cordon 
about  it,  and  the  journey  was  begun.  But  the 
party  had  hardly  got  fairly  upon  the  road  when 
the  severe  pounding  of  the  gold  as  the  carriage 
bumped  over  the  boulders  in  the  roadway  carried 
away   the   floor,   and   down   went    the    boxes. 


DOWN    WENT   THE    BOXES. 


THE    SECRET    OF    MISS    STONE'S    CAPTURE    BY    BRIGANDS.         437 


There  was  a  halt,  and  an  attempt  to  patch  up 
the  vehicle,  but  it  was  useless.  One  of  the 
pack-horses  accompanying  the  soldiers  was  un- 
loaded and  the  gold  strapped  on  its  back  ;  but 
the  packages  were  of  unequal  sizes,  and  would 
persist  in  finding  their  way  under  the-  stomach 
of  the  poor  brute.  At  last  the  two  kavasses, 
who  were  well  mounted,  were  each  called  upon 
to  carry  a  box,  and  in  this  way  the  money  was 
got  over  the  mountains. 

More  troops  fell  in  as  the  way  became  more 
dangerous,  until  the  number  of  the  escort 
reached  a  hundred.  Some  of  the  cavalrymen 
went  far  ahead  to  scout,  especially  through  the 
great  Kresna  Pass  by  the  side  of  the  River 
Struma,  where  a  handful  of  men  could  ambush 
an  army ;  and  others  dropped  back  far  behind 
the  cavalcade  to  bring  up  the  rear.  But  the 
journey  was  made  without  mishap,  and  late  at 
night  of  the  second  day  Mr.Smyth-Lyte  arrived  at 
Djuma-bala,  met  there  Messrs.  Peet  and  Garguilo, 
as  had  been  arranged,  and  delivered  his  precious 
charge  over  to  these  two  gentlemen.  Early  the 
next  morning  he  set  off  on  his  return  trip  with 
his  Cro-ites  and  a  guard  of  half-a-dozen  men. 

On  the  arrival  of  the  money  at  Djuma  there 
was  a  general  concentration  of  correspondents, 
Turkish  soldiers,  and  spies  about  it.  The  com- 
mittee was  no  longer  the  subject  of  attention  ; 
the  money  was  now  the  thing.  If  they 
kept  close  to  the  money,  reasoned  the  corre- 
spondents and  the  soldiers,  they  were  bound 
to  be  in  at  the  ransom.  The  writers  had  no 
other  interest  than  to  get  the  news,  but 
the  soldiers  were  bent  on  getting  the  brigands. 
The  Turkish  Government  had  no  idea  of  allow- 
ing the  bandits  to  reap  their  golden  harvest ; 
it  meant  to  capture  them  directly  they 
ventured  forth  to  secure  the  gold.  So  it  came 
to  be  the  task  of  the  ransoming  committee  to 
separate  the  gold  from  the  correspondents  and 
soldiers — as  you  may  judge,  an  almost  hopeless 
task.  Every  correspondent  present  was  a  man 
of  sharp  wits  and  untiring  persistency.  Each 
one  of  them  had  a  dragoman  always  watching  the 
Turks  who  surrounded  the  gold,  so  that  they 
could  not  have  moved  off  without  their  know- 
ledge. And  there  were  Turkish  spies  at  work, 
too,  watching  the  soldiers,  the  committee,  and 
the  correspondents  alike.  Abdul  Hamid  trusts 
no  one,  and  his  secret  service  system  embraces 
even  a  staff  of  agents  who  spy  on  spies. 

The  committee  would  decide  to  leave  a  town 
for  a  visit  to  some  mountain  village  at  a 
moment's  notice,  telling  no  one ;  but  the 
soldiers  were  always  with  them,  ostensibly 
guarding  them  from  other  brigands,  and  the 
tireless  correspondents  were  on  their  tracks 
before  the  dust  had  settled  behind  their  horses. 


After  a  long  tour,  Messrs.  Peet  and  Garguilo, 
still  carrying  the  money,  settled  down  in 
Bansko  with  Dr.  House,  who  was  still  preach 
ing  to  the  Bulgarians.  The  committee  here 
secured  a  private  house  to  live  in,  and  in 
one  room  stored  the  gold.  Here  .1  long 
rest  took  place.  The  correspondents  railed 
against  the  committee,  accusing  it  of  lazil 
and  love  of  comfort;  but  they,  too,  grew  indo- 
lent and  took  their  ease  at  their  "hahn."  At 
first  they,  with  the  Turks,  dogged  the  very  P 
steps  of  the  three  men  of  the  committee,  but 
after  a  week  of  this  they  grew  weary,  l<>r  the 
ransoming  committee  were  wont  to  walk  far  and 
loiter  aimlessly  on  cold  and  unattractive  moun- 
tain roads  about  the  town.  It  was  not  very  prob 
able  that  the  brigands  would  venture  so  near  to 
a  village  so  heavily  garrisoned  and  patrolled  as 
was  Bansko,  and  to  watch  the  gold  soon  became 
sufficient  for  the  correspondents.  Had  any  ol 
them  put  himself  to  the  trouble  of  ascertain 
what  were  Mr.  Garguilo's  habits  when  comfort- 
ablyensconced  in  the  Embassy  at  Constantinople, 
they 'would  have  discovered  that  any  exertion 
whatever  is  distinctly  foreign  to  that  gentleman's 
daily  routine,  and  they  would  have  known  that 
something  important  was  afoot  to  account  for 
his  activity. 

At  the  end  of  a  month,  to  the  intense  surprise 
of  everybody,  a  messenger  came  from  Con 
stantinople,  travelling  in  all  the  state  which  had 
dignified  Mr.  Smyth-Lyte's  journey.  With  great 
ceremony  the  two  boxes  of  gold  were  delivered 
to  him.  There  was  no  mistake  about  them  ; 
they  were  the  same  two  boxes,  unopened. 
Their  covers  were  firm  and  fast,  and  they  still 
weighed  four  hundred  pounds.  One  hundred 
soldiers  escorted  them  back  to  Demir-His^.n. 
There  they  were  carefully  placed  aboard  another 
special  car,  and  two  Cro-ites  ate  and  slept  on 
them  until  they  were  safely  delivered  back  to  the 
Ottoman  Bank  at  Constantinople. 

The  startling  news  that  the  committee  had 
abandoned  in  despair  the  task  of  ransoming 
Miss  Stone  was  promptly  flashed  across  the 
wires,  and  appeared  in  the  papers  in  England 
and  in  America,  and  a  few  days  later  the  com- 
mittee started  on  its  return  to  the  railway,  with 
a  small  escort,  and  only  one  correspondent. 
The  others  considered  that  for  the  present  the 
affair   was   over. 

At  one  place  on  the  route   Mr.  Garguilo  and 
Dr.  House  managed  to  leave  their  trackers  and 
the  correspondent  a  little  behind.     At 
road  they  stopped  and  dismounted  ami  aw.; 
the  rest  of  the  party.      When    it  came  up   Mr. 
Garguilo's    face   wore   a   satisfied    smile.      I 
correspondent  suspected  something,  ami  ask<  d 
"what  was  up." 


438 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


"Behind  yonder  tree,"  Mr.  Garguilo  solemnly 
declared,  "  the  deed  was  done." 

The  correspondent  dismounted  in  haste  and 
investigated.  There  were  several  torn  envelopes, 
such  as  a  bank  would  cover  notes  with,  lying  on 
the  ground.  He  was  an  artist,  and  he  drew  a 
picture  of  the  spot.  A  few  days  later  Miss 
Stone,  Mrs.  Tsilka,  and  her  baby  were  "  dis- 
covered "  in  a  town  near  Seres.  The  committee 
met  and  escorted  them  to  Salonica. 

It  is  obvious  how  the  story  that  the  money 
was  paid  in  paper  at  a  cross-road  came  to 
appear  in  the  English  and  American  Press  ;  but 
the  money  was  not  paid  in  paper,  behind  a  tree, 
to  emissaries  of  the  brigands  mounted  on  fast 
horses.  Mr.  Garguilo  took  delight  in  putting 
the  correspondents  off  the  track. 

When  Messrs.  Garguilo,  Peet,  and  House 
took  their  daily  walks  about  Bansko  they  went 
out  with  heavy 
packages  of 
gold  concealed 
under  their 
coats,  and  they 
returned  with  a 
like  weight  — 
but  of  lead! 
Each  night  they 
removed  a  cer- 
tain amount  of 
the  gold,  and 
on  their  return 
would  place  the 
lead  in  the  bul- 
lion boxes,  the 
vigilant  guards 
about  the  house 
all  unconscious 
that  the  boxes 
were  being  tam- 


pered with.  Finally  the  whole  of  the  fourteen 
thousand  five  hundred  gold  pieces  had  been 
delivered  to  the  agents  of  the  brigands,  whom 
the  committeemen  met  on  their  walks,  and  four 
hundred  pounds  of  lead  filled  the  boxes  in 
their  stead.  These  boxes,  with  the  pomp  and 
ceremony  attending  the  transport  of  treasure, 
went  back  to  the  vaults  of  the  Ottoman  Bank. 
The  seemingly  impossible  had  been  achieved — 
both  the  lynx-eyed  minions  of  the  Government 
and  the  eager  correspondents  had  been  hood- 
winked and  the  ransom  duly  paid  ! 

It  was  necessary  to  keep  the  fact  that  the 
ransom  had  been  handed  over  a  complete  secret 
until  the  captives  were  released,  in  order  that 
the  Turks  should  not  get  on  the  track  of  the 
brigands.  A  promise  that  every  effort  should 
be  made  to  throw  the  Turks  off  the  trail  was 
demanded  by  the  brigands,  as  was  an  injunction 

of  absolute 
secrecy  concern- 
ing also  the 
place  and  man- 
ner in  which  the 
money  was  paid. 
But  the  time 
is  past  when  the 
secret  need  be 
kept,  and  the 
brigands,  now 
off  duty  be- 
tween revolu- 
tions, are  spin- 
ning this  yarn, 
along  with  the 
accounts  of 
other  adven- 
tures, to  admir- 
ing friends  in 
Sofia  to-day. 


"E^CH    NIGHT   THEY    REMOVED   A   CERTAIN    AMOUNT   OF    THE   GOLD. 


%&<fie 


The  Norwegian  farmer,  handicapped  by  an  extremely  short  summer,  has  called  in  a  number  of 
ingenious  devices  to  help  him  in  his  work  —  among  them  the  aerial  transport  wire  and  the 
simple   yet  effective   "hurdle."     In    this    article    Mr.    James    describes    the    interesting    methods    of 

harvesting  on  a  mountain  farm  in  Scandinavia. 


0  stand  at  the  base  of  an  enormous 
cliff  in  Norway  at  the  side  of  a 
beautiful  fjord  and  to  see  bundles 
of  hay,  tubs  of  butter,  cheese,  butter- 
milk barrels,  and  an  occasional  man 
shooting  through  the  open  sky  gives  to  the 
ordinary  sightseer  in  Norway  a  momentary 
shock.  At  first  he  wonders  what  the  different 
things  are,  and  then  he  wonders  where  on  earth 
or  in  the  sky  they  have  come  from.  A  short 
stay  soon  answers  the  questions,  and  longer 
travel  gives  him  not  only  the  fundamental 
reasons  for  the  adoption  of  the  aerial  railway 
by  the  Norwegian  farmer  for  the  rapid  transport 
of  his  products,  but  also  shows  him  the  extent 
to  which  the  system  has  been  adopted  by  the 
hard-working  agriculturists  of  the  North. 

This  system  of  harvesting  by  means  of  wire 
is  due  to  a  fight  between  upland  and  lowland. 
A  straight  line  is  always  the  shortest  distance 
between  two  points,  and  a  wire  stretched 
between  a  plot  of  land  on  a  cliff  where  hay- 
making is  in  progress  and  a  farm  down  below 
where  the  farmer  lives  and  stores  his  hay  and 
grain  is  the  shortest  distance  between  those  two 
places.  Were  he  to  bring  his  products  down  by 
hand,  or  by  other  common  means,  his  work 
would  be  never-ending  ;  the  natural  obstacles  of 
the   country    would   thwart   him   at  every   step. 


He  cannot  do  his  work  with  horses  and  carts 
because  of  these  same  obstacles,  and  his  harvi  si 
season  is  too  brief  to  allow  him  to  waste  time. 
Accordingly  the  Norwegian  farmer  transports 
his  products  by  means  of  a  tight  wire  passing 
through  the  air  high  over  trees,  valleys,  and 
fjords,  and  does  it  with  so  much  success  that  the 
northern  parts  of  Scandinavia  might,  with 
small  exaggeration,  be  called  a  land  of  aerial 
wires. 

To  judge  of  the  difficulties  placed  by  Nature 
in  the  way  of  the  Scandinavian  agriculturist 
one  need  but  look  at  the  illustrations  to  this 
article.  Yet  they  cannot  wholly  illustrate  the 
subject.  In  one  photograph  you  see  a  bundle 
of  hay  passing  down  a  wire  from  a  cliff  to  a 
valley,  but  there  is  something  more  in  that 
bundle  than  mere  blades  of  dried  grass. 
Norwegian  farmer  lives  in  a  land  which  (eels 
the  rigour  of  the  frozen  zone.  His  year  is  made 
up  of  winter  and  summer.  Spring  is  for  him  so 
brief  that  he  rarely  feels  its  warm  breath  before 
the  summer  is  upon  him,  anil  autumn  bl 
quickly  in  its  train  the  cold  blasts  of  winter. 
The  period  allowed  to  him  by  climate  for 
sowing,  ripening,  and  reaping  his  ght, 

sometimes     twelve,     weeks,     and     during     that 
summer  season  he. combats  continually  the  I 
in  the  ground  and  the  moisture  in  the  air. 


446 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MACAZINE. 


corn  is  made  more  valuable  to  him  because  of 
the  geographical  and  climatic  difficulties  which 
he  encounters  in  its  culture,  and  the  bundle  of 
hay  which  he  sends  by  wire  down  to  his  valley 
farm  carries  with  it  the  story  of  a  struggle  for 
existence  against  peculiar  odds. 

Even  under  the  best  conditions  farming  is  a 
laborious  occupation,  and  when  the  statistician 
tells  us  that  but  little  more  than  four  per  cent, 
of  the  land  in  Norway  is  under  cultivation  he 
states  a  significant  fact.  In  truth,  it  is  a  sort 
of  here-and-theie  agriculture,  a  "farming  in 
patches,"  as  a  clever  observer  once  called  it. 
Nature  is  niggard  with  her  stretches  of  flat  land, 
although  she  has  painted  the  cliffs  and  vales 
with  colours  that  skilful  artists  fail  to  duplicate. 
At  one  isolated  spot  you  come  across  a  plot  of 
grass  almost  ready  for  the  sickle  or  scythe ■;  in 


homestead  belov.  by  wire.  Here  the  greatest 
amount  of  effort  is  made  to  secure  the  grass 
growing  in  the  widely-separated  patches  among 
the  hills,  and  in  many  cases  vegetation  is 
luxurious.  The  farm-hand's  sickle  lets  not  a 
blade  of  grass  escape,  and  every  inch  of  land 
is  shorn  of  its  natural  product.  Where  vegetation 
grows  in  dangerous  places  the  labourer  works 
at  considerable  risk,  but  no  risk  is  considered 
great  where  grass  may  be  gathered.  Should 
the  proportions  of  his  upper  farm-land  be 
generous  the  farmer,  in  convenient  places,  stores 
his  hay  in  sheds,  to  be  conveyed  later  to  the 
valleys  by  means  of  wire,  and  thence,  if  neces- 
sary, by  sledges  to  his  farm.  The  mountain 
grass  is  rich  and  gives  delectable  flavour  to 
butter  and  cheese. 

The   Norwegian   farmer's   is   a  lonely  life,  to 


From  a  P!ioto.  by' 


A    BUNDLE   OF    HAY    COMING    DOWN    THE    AEklAL   CABLtrtAY    FKO.M     I  HE    MOUNTAINS. 


[Knudsen. 


another  a  little  barley  or  a  field  of  potatoes, 
and  in  the  distance  a  patch  of  stunted  corn. 
There  is  no  length  to  it  all,  no  broad  expanse 
of  land  under  cultivation,  such  as  we  see  from 
the  train  windows  in  this  country,  and  one 
marvels  that  the  farmer  manages  to  pay  his  way. 
Higher  up,  in  the  hills  above  the  fjords,  the 
farmer  also  makes  his  summer  hay.  When 
winter  is  over  he,  with  his  flocks  and  herds, 
resorts  to  the  upper  regions,  and  there  tarries 
late  into  the  autumn,  communicating  with  the 


say  the  best  of  it,  but  it  has  its  picturesque  side. 
The  tourist  who  ventures  to  climb  the  hillside 
to  one  of  these  "saeters"  where  the  hay-making 
is  in  progress,  where  herds  of  cattle  are  feeding 
and  the  milk  is  being  turned  into  butter  and 
cheese,  will  find  interest  not  only  in  the  hay- 
makers, but  in  the  intimate  knowledge  he  will 
get  of  Deasant  life.  The  colour  of  the  women's 
dresses  sometimes  touches  the  picture  with 
beautiful  effect,  and  in  the  hay  -  fields,  where 
the  Norwegian  lasses  are  industriously  engaged 


HARVESTING    BY    WIRE. 


441 


Front  a  t'hoto.  by\ 


HARVEST   SCENE   ON    AN    Ul'LANI 


[Knudsen. 


in  piling  the  new-cut  hay  upon  the  hurdles,  the 
scene  is  one  of  great  activity.  These  hurdles,  by 
the  way,  are  a  peculiar  feature  of  Norwegian 
farm  life. 

Owing  to  the  humidity  of  the  atmosphere  in 
high  regions,  it  becomes  necessary  that  no  time 
shall  be  lost  in  getting  the  new-mown  hay  dried 
and  stored  in  the  barns,  and  the  hurdles— long 
fences  of  rails  and  posts — have  been  devised  as 
the  best  means  to  the  desired  end.  A  Nor- 
wegian farmer  does  not  leave  his  hay  to  dry 
upon  the  ground,  for  the  giound  is  damp.  He 
therefore  lets  the  sun  and  wind  do  the  work. 
He  gathers  the  hay  with  a  rake  and  hangs  it  on 
top  of,  or  between  the  cross-bars  of,  the  hurdle 
fence,  and  in  a  few  short  hours  the  drying  pro- 
cess is  completed.  When  ground  is  plentiful 
the  hurdles  cover  considerable  space,  but  in 
limited  plots  small  single  hurdles  are  erected, 
and  the  cutting  around  the  hurdle  stops  when 
that  hurdle  has  been  covered.  When  the  grass 
is  dried  another  lot  is  mown,  and  thus  the  work 
goes  on.  The  men  cut  the  grass,  while  the 
girls  shake  it  out  and  hang  it  on  the  bars. 

Visitors  to  Norway  are  often  puzzled  over 
the  use  of  these  hurdles,  which  stand  out  con- 
spicuously in  the  landscape,  and  appear  to  have 
been  placed  there  as  a  protection  against  the 
snow.  They  are  roughly  made  and  stand  from 
four  to  six  feet  high,  the  sticks  on  which  the 
bars  are  placed  standing  some  four  feet  apart, 

Vol.  xiv.— 56. 


the  whole  being  bound  together  by  birch  withes 
or  string.  In  some  fields  they  are  thirty  or 
forty  feet  long,  and  are  erected  when  the  grass 
is  short.  When  not  allowed  to  remain  in  the 
fields  throughout  the  year  they  are  taken  down 
and  stowed  away  for  the  winter,  and  are  always 
erected  with  considerable  care.  The  Norwegian 
farmer  is  well  up  to  the  tricks  of  old  Sol,  and, 
knowing  the  angles  at  which  the  sun  strikes,  he 
places  his  hurdle  in  such  a  position  that  the 
sun  casts  its  rays  with  immediate  effect  upon 
both  sides  of  the  drying  fence.  When  rain 
comes  the  hay  upon  the  top  bar  sheds  the 
moisture  and  protects  the  hay  on  the  I  mis 
underneath.  Rain,  however,  in  the  condition 
of  things,  has  little  time  to  do  much  dan: 
for  the  sun  shines  brilliantly  and  does  its  work 
rapidly.  One  would  hardly  think  that  so  much 
philosophy  and  common  sense  could  be  found 
in  a  mere  structure  of  wooden  bars.  Yet  there 
it  is,  and  time  has  proved  its  value. 

In  connection  with  this  another  point  of 
interest  to  our  farmers  deserves  attention. 
Periodically,  during  our  hay-making  .  we 

find    reports  in  th<  by 

floods  to  the  farmer,  and  no 
arisen    to    estimate     these    losses    in 
Many  thousand  tons  of  hay  in  ti  iave 

n  carried  by  floods  from  the  farm-lands  to 
the  sea,  merely  because  the  farmer  was  content 
to  let  his  hay  lie  upon  the  ground  and  her 


442 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


it  up  when  the  sun  had  dried  it.  From  the 
Norwegian  farmer  he  could  have  learned  long 
ago  the  proper  method  of  preserving  a  hay-crop 
from  such  a  catastrophe,  and  the  means  are  of 
the  simplest  kind. 

Corn  is  dried  much  like  hay,  the  hurdle,  how- 
ever, being  done  away  with.  After  it  has  been 
tied  into  sheaves  it  is  attached  to  upright  sticks, 
which,  in  many  places,  cover  the  field  in  every 
direction.  These  sticks,  called  "  corn-stors," 
erected  as  they  are  in  long  rows  or  groups,  give 
a  most  curious  appearance  to  the  landscape. 
Oats,  barley,  and  rye  are  also  cultivated,  and  in 
certain  places,  owing  to  the  curious  meteorologi- 
cal conditions,  these  cereals  have  been  known 
to  grow  and  ripen  in  three  weeks  !  It  is  natural, 
therefore,  that  the  brief  summer  on  a  Norwegian 
farm  should  be  the  busiest  season  of  the  year. 
The  women,  who  do  almost  as  much  work  as 
the  men,  are  to  be  seen  everywhere  at  labour, 
and  when,  as  is  often  the  case,  the  peasants  get 
two  harvests  this  work  is  unremitting. 


What,  therefore,  the  Norwegian  would  do 
without  his  hurdles  and  his  "  lauparstreng  " — ■ 
the  name  he  gives  to  his  aerial  railway — it  would 
be  difficult  to  guess.  Were  he  forced,  after  his 
day's  labour  on  the  hills,  to  bring  his  crop  to 
the  valley  by  armfuls  the  job  would  never  be 
complete,  though  the  sledge  in  winter  and  the 
boat  in  summer  help  him  not  a  little  in  the 
transport  of  his  crops.  He  tightens  his  wire  by 
means  of  an  inexpensive  windlass,  and  at  the 
valley  end  of  the  line  the  momentum  of  the 
hay,  or  anything  else  he  cares  to  send  down,  is 
stopped  by  a  natural  buffer  of  fir-branches 
placed  upon  the  ground.  As  these  branches 
are  elastic,  the  rebound  of  the  bundle  prevents 
it  from  breaking  to  pieces.  This  ingenious 
buffer  also  does  good  service  in  preventing 
accident  to  life  .and  limb;  for  if,  as  some- 
times happens,  the  farmer  or  a  daring  boy 
wishes  to  cut  corners  and  come  down  by  wire 
from  the  heights  he  can  do  it  with  almost 
certain  safety. 


From  a  Photo.  by\ 


THE   CURIOUS    "HURDLES"   ON    WHICH    THE   CROPS   ARE   DRIED. 


[Kmidscn. 


Lost    in    Wind    Cave. 

By  Thos.  L.  Wright,   of  Bellefontaine,  Ohio, 

The  story  of  an  eventful  holiday  which,  after  a  terrifying  experience  in  a  labyrinthine  cavern, 
culminated    in    startling  fashion    in   the  narrator's  arrest  on  a  charge  of  murder  ! 


UR  little  old  locomotive,  after  much 
puffing  and  blowing-off  of  steam, 
subsided  with  a  dismal  wail — a  thing 
dead.  There  was  snow  everywhere. 
As  far  as  the  eye  could  reach  along 
the  cut  between  the  hills,  undulating  billows  of 
white  covered  the  rails  and  rendered  further 
progress  impossible. 

"Stuck  !"  growled  the  person  who  officiated 
as  conductor.  "  You  fellows  will  have  to  make 
yerselves  at  home." 

"  When  shall  we  get  out  of  this  ?  I  don't  like 
the  look  of  it,"  said  the  commercial  traveller 
gentleman  from  Chicago,  glancing  out  of  the 
window  and  noting  that  the  trucks  behind  us 
were  fast  disappearing  under  the  drifts. 

"  Ask  me  somethin'  easy,"  replied  the 
conductor.  "Engine's  right  in.  Besides,  the 
Empire  State  Express  couldn't  move  through 
them  drifts.  We're  going  back  to  Moose's  to 
wire  for  the  rotary.  Better  keep  up  fire."  And 
with  this  parting  injunction  the  two 
trainman  started 
for  the  little  station 
two  miles  to  the 
east. 

We  were  aboard 
one  of  those  abomi- 
nations of  Ameri- 
can travel  known 
as  a  "  mixed  " 
train.  Traffic  in 
that  particular  por- 
tion of  Michigan 
was  not  heavy,  and 
it  happened  on 
this  trip  that  but 
four  passengers 
had  braved  the 
inclemency  of  the 
weather —  four  "  the  two  trai     - 

men,  all  of  whom 

were  travelling  at  this  time  by  virtue  of  necessity. 
The  "drummer"  from  Chicago,  evidently  of 
Jewish  extraction,  and  a  good  fellow  withal, 
represented  a  liquor  house,  and  had  his  samples 
— potent  factors  for  speedy  introduction— with 
him.  The  young  man  with  the  smooth  face,  who 
occupied  the  greater  portion  of  three  seats  with 


his  valises  and  great-coat,  sold  skirts  to  the 
trade.  My  third  companion  was  a  large  man 
of  generous  figure,  whose  general  appearance 
seemed  to  indicate  that  he  was  not  .1  .  ommercial 
traveller. 

I  presume  that  our  forlorn  condition  renden  d 
us  more  sociable  than  is  ordinarily  the  case 
with  strangers  meeting  on  trains.  At  all  events, 
we  were  soon  engaged  in  general  conversation 
and  story-telling. 

The  large  gentleman,  who  subsequently 
proved  to  be  a  lumberman  on  his  way  home, 
was  tacitly  accorded  the  honour  of  master  of 
ceremonies,  and,  as  our  sojourn  in  the  snowed 
up  train  threatened  to  extend  into  the  night,  we 
settled  ourselves  to  pass  the  time  as  comfortably 
as  possible.  As  we  had  all  knocked  about  the 
world  more  or  less,  we  could  recount  personal 
experiences  of  some  interest. 

The  Chicago  man  told  of  an  adventure  with 
footpads  in  St.  Louis,  and  the  skirt  man  dilated 


at  length  on  Chicago  met! 

time,  with  i  il  experii  n< 

the  timberman's  turn. 

■(  ientlenien.    he  said,  "with  yoi  1 
I  will  give  you   the  history  of  a    rather   u    1 

if  happenings   which   culminated   in  my 
arrest  for  murder  in  Nebraska." 


444 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


I  will  reproduce  the  story  of  Mr.  M ,  who 

is  in  business  in  a  large  way  in  a  northern  city, 
and  whose  veracity  I  have  no  reason  whatever  to 
question,  as  nearly  as  possible  just  as  he  told  it. 

Some  years  ago  the  interests  of  the  Detroit 
firm  of  which  I  was  at  that  time  junior  member 
rendered  it  necessary  for  me  to  make  a  trip 
to  Western  South  Dakota.  The  duty  of  inves- 
tigating certain  mining  claims  of  doubtful 
value  located  in  that  territory  also  devolved 
upon  me  by  virtue  of  an  arrangement  our  firm 
had  made  with  an  Eastern  correspondent.  I 
was  at  this  time  recovering  from  a  severe  illness 
that  had  incapacitated  me  for  work  for  many 
months,  and  I  felt 
particularly  anxious  to 
spend  some  time  in  the 
Black  Hills  region  of 
Dakota  in  order  to  test 
the  far-famed  beneficial 
properties  of  the  air 
and  water. 

En  route  I  stopped 
at  Sioux  Falls  for 
several  days,  and  found 
the  town  in  a  state  of 
excitement  owing  to 
the  escape  of  a  certain 

Dr.  A ,  a  notorious 

criminal  and  "confi- 
dence man "  who  had 
served  time  in  different 
prisons,  and  who  at  the 
time  of  his  escape  had 
been  awaiting  extra- 
dition for  trial  in  a 
neighbouring  State  on 
the  charge  of  murder. 
The  matter  passed  from 
my  mind,  however,  and 
I  proceeded  on  my 
journey. 

In  due  course  of 
time  my  mission  was 
fulfilled.      At    a   small 

place  near  the  Wyoming  line  I  met  a  young 
man  by  the  name  of  Harris,  who  had  abundance 
of  leisure  time  at  his  disposal,  was  well  supplied 
with  money,  and  proved  to  be  a  congenial  com- 
panion whose  knowledge  of  the  country  rendered 
sight-seeing  as  much  of  a  pleasure  as  it  had 
heretofore  proved  to  be  an  arduous  task. 
After  several  days  profitably  spent  in  viewing 
the  mines,  Mr.  Harris  suggested  that  we  should 
go  to  Hot  Springs  and  visit  that  chef-d 'ceuvre  of 
mother  Nature  in  this  region — the  Cave  of  the 
Winds. 

It  is  not  my  desire  to  attempt  a  description 


A  PHOTOGRAPH  SHOWING  THE  HEAUTIFUL  KOCK  FORMATIONS  OF 
THE  WIND  CAVE. 


of  the  natural  phenomenon  known  as  Wind 
Cave.  The  story  goes  that  the  cave  was  dis- 
covered by  a  cowboy  in  1881,  and  received  its 
name  from  the  fact  that  an  ever- prevailing 
current  of  air  alternately  flows  first  into  and 
then  out  of  the  entrance.  More  than  three 
thousand  chambers  have  been  discovered,  the 
largest  of  which  covers  three  acres,  and  more 
than  a  hundred  miles  of  passages  have  already 
been  explored.  Only  one  entrance  to  the  cave 
is  known. 

As  we  approached,  the  sound  of  the  exhala- 
tion of  air  from  the  entrance  resembled  distant 
thunder,  and  it  was  not  without  some  misgivings 
that  we  allowed  the  guide  to  prepare  us  for  the 

underground  journey. 
Following  the  custom 
of  all  those  who  had 
gone  before  we  regis- 
tered our  names  and 
addresses,  so  that 
friends  and  relatives 
could  be  communi- 
cated with  in  case  of 
accident  —  a  precau- 
tionary measure  of 
which  I,  with  my  usual 
ill-luck  and  character- 
istic propensity  to 
blunder,  was  to  be  the 
first  to  prove  the 
efficacy. 

Harris  had  made  the 
trip  before,  and  with 
his  general  knowledge 
of  geology  and  the  par- 
ticular study  that  he 
seemed  to  have  devoted 
to  the  varied  and  beau- 
tiful rock  formations, 
together  with  his  never- 
failing  fund  of  good- 
humour,  proved  an 
ideal     companion     for 


such  an  excursion. 


At  a  distance  of 
about  one  hundred  and  sixty  feet  below  the 
entrance  we  entered  the  first  of  the  chambers, 
concerning  the  many-hued  beauties  of  which 
volumes  might  be  written.  On  and  on  we 
journeyed,  hour  after  hour,  new  wonders  reveal- 
ing themselves  at  every  step. 

At  last,  many  hundreds  of  feet  below  the 
surface  and  some  miles  from  the  entrance  of  the 
cave,  I  performed,  in  all  probability,  the  most 
foolish  act  of  my  life — and  that  is  saying  much. 

At  that  time  tourists  were  allowed  to  carry 
away  specimens  of  the  rock  formation,  a  practice 
which    at   present   happily   does    not   exist,    as 


LOST    IN    WIND    CAN  !. 


445 


Wind  Cave  is  now  the  property  of  the  U.S. 
Government. 

My  companions  had  proceeded  in  advance, 
believing  me  to  be  close  at  hand.     Observing  a 
particularly   beautiful    crystal,    that    shone    like 
a  huge  diamond,  within  reach  from  one  of  the 
side  passages,  I  hastened  to  possess  it,  and,  as 
I     reached    for    it,    dropped    my 
candle,  which  was  instantly  extin- 
guished, leaving  me   in   Egyptian 
darkness !      To   add    to    my   dis- 
comfiture I  found  myself  without 
matches  or  the  means  of  striking 
a  light.     I  endeavoured  to  retrace 
my  steps,   but  in    the  excitement 
incident  to  my  position  I 
entered  the  wrong  passage- 
way, through  which  I  has- 
tened at  top  speed,  placing 
life  and  limb  in  jeopardy 
at   every   step.      Each 
instant  I  expected  to  see 
the  candle  -  lights  of   my 
companions,  and  at  each 
turn    I    met    disappoint- 
ment.     I  raised  my  voice 
in  prolonged  shouts,  but 
by  way  of   response   was 
only  greeted    by  a   thou- 
sand echoes. 

It  is  difficult  for  me  to 
convey  an  idea  of  the 
horror  of  my  position. 
The  desire  of  Harris  to 
reveal  the  rarest  geological 
formations  had  led  him  to 
choose  the  most  dan- 
gerous and  unfrequented 
route  known  to  the  guide. 
As  far  as  exploration  had 
gone  —  and  how  much 
farther  no  man  knows — a 
network  of  passages  ex- 
tends, honeycombing  the 
rock.  At  times  preci- 
pices, the  depths  of  which 
have  never  been  sounded, 
break    the   way.      Again, 

the  most  devious  and  complicated  paths,  known 
only  to  one  or  two  men,  lead  to  lower  levels, 
down  the  most  precipitous  declivities.  Had  I 
been  in  possession  of  lights  and  provisions 
sufficient  to  have  furnished  an  army  with  the 
necessities  of  cave  exploration,  it  is  certain  that 
it  would  have  been  impossible  for  me  to  have 
reached  the  open  air,  so  extensive  and  perplexing 
are  the  mazes  of  this  subterranean  labyrinth. 

Having   shouted  myself    hoarse,    I    became 
sensible  of  the  futility  and  danger  of  the  course 


AS   1    KEACHED    FOR    IT    1 

CANDI  I 


that  I  had  been  pursuing,  and,  stooping,  started 
off  on  my  hands   and    knees,   carefully  feeling 
my  way  in  order  to  avoid  the  unknown  dangi 
that  I  knew  abounded  in  my  path. 

I   presume  that  I  became  totally  deprived  of 
self-possession.     Hatless,  and  with  clothing  torn 
to  shreds  and  hands  and  knees  bleeding  from 
contact  with  the  sharp  and  jag 
roi  ks  over  which    I   had 
blciJ  and  fallen  in  my  mad  rush, 
it  is  certain  that  if  the 
of    a     flashlight     photographer 
i  mild   have    been    obtained 

that  time  the  negative 
would  have  revealed  the 
most  forlorn,  dilapidated, 
and  terror-stricken  in- 
dividual west  of  the 
Mississippi. 

Presently    the    passage 
narrowed,     and    when     1 
endeavoured  to  stand 
ct  I  found  that  only  a 
distance  of  about  foui 
separated    the    roof   from 
the   floor.      I   struck   my 
head  sharply,  and  witl 
agitation  or  pain  felt  bl<  m  m  1 
course     freely    down     my 
face   from   a   cut   in    my 
forehead.      I   had  lost  all 
idea  of  time  and  direction, 
but,  fortunately,  to  some 
extent  I  regained  my  self- 
possession,   and    was    en- 
abled   to    escape    but 
narrowly  an  accident  the 
very    thought    of     which 
even  now  causes  my 
to  blanch.     Suddenh. 
I  crawled  along,    I   found 
my  hands  projecting  into 
space  and  myself  at  the  verge  of  a 
precipice  and    in    the  most  immi- 
nent danger  of  being  precipil 
into  the  depths  of  a  subterranean 
abyss.     I  recoiled,  shudderinj 
if  with  the  ague,  and,  lying  at  full 
length  with  my  face  to  the  edge  of  the  roC 

<  hed  as  large  a  stone   as   I  could 
in  my  weakened  condition  and  hurled   it  fi 
me.       With    strained    attention    I     1; 
any    sound    that    would    deno 
iw.       Although 
is  never  experienced  on  I 
prevailed,    no   sound    of   I 
rock   reached    my    i  Thi 

enable   me  to  realize  the  terrible  dangers  that 
beset  my  path,  and  I  did  not  attempt  to  walk 


DROITKD    MY 


446 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


as  I  slowly  and  painfully  endeavoured  to 
re-traverse  the  route  over  which  I  had  but  a 
short  time  previously  hurried  with  such  mad 
impetuosity.  I  continued  in  this  manner  for 
what  seemed  to  me  to  be  an  interminable  time, 
when  suddenly  a  faintness  overpowered  me 
and  I  lost  consciousness.  I  had  overtaxed  my 
strength — which,  owing  to  my  recent  illness,  was 
not  great — and  had  paid  the  penalty  of  undue 
exertion   and  excitement.     In   this    condition  I 


[     WAS    1)1 


EKED    E)Y    IIAKKIS    AM)    THE    GUIDE. 


was  discovered  by  Harris  and  the  guide,  after 
having  been  separated  from  them  about  two 
hours. 

It  appears  that  my  absence  was  discovered 
almost  immediately,  but,  as  several  passages 
extended  in  various  directions,  my  companions 
were  unable  to  determine  which  one  I  had 
chosen  for  my  solitary  explorations.  Having 
left  a  candle  burning  as  a  possible  beacon  light, 
they  hastened  to  institute  a  search — in  a  direc- 
tion exactly  opposite  to  the  one  taken  by  me. 
After  more  than  an  hour  spent  in  an  effort  to 
discover  my  whereabouts  it  was  decided  to 
return  to  the  open  air  for  assistance  and  lights, 
and  it  was  while  hastening  to  arrive  at  the  sur- 
face by  as  short  a  route  as  possible  that  I  was 
discovered — by  one  of  the  many  fortunate 
chances  of  that  eventful  day — lying  across  the 
pathway,  still  unconscious  of  my  surroundings. 

Harris  carried  a  flask  to  be  used  "  in  case 
of  snake-bite,"  as  he  had  facetiously  remarked 
at  the  beginning  of  the  day.  This  was  brought 
into  requisition,  and,   after  a  thorough  rest,  I 


found  myself  sufficiently  recovered  to  make  my 
way  by  slow  degrees  to  the  spot  where  I  could 
again  welcome  the  light  of  day.  Not  wishing  to 
become  the  subject  of  the  notoriety  that  would 
surely  follow  should  the  story  of  my  mishaps 
become  common  property,  I  pledged  my  com- 
panions to  eternal  secrecy  ;  but  the  possibility 
that  either  Harris  or  the  guide  would  wax 
communicative  concerning  my  adventures 
was  horrible  to  contemplate,  and  effaced  tem- 
porarily the  memory 
of  the  danger  that  I 
had  escaped  and  the 
general  unpleasant- 
ness incident  thereto. 
I  could  picture  in  my 
mind's  eye  future 
tourists  revelling  in 
the  account  of  my 
woes.  I  even  con- 
jured up  a  disturbing 
possibility  that  points 
of  interest  in  the 
vicinity  might  be 
named  with  a  view  to 
rendering  immortal 
the  tale  of  my  mad 
rush.  I  fancied  that 
I  could  hear  some 
future  guide  an- 
nounce: "The  next 
passage  to  the  right, 
ladies  and  gentlemen, 
is  the  Fool's  Foot- 
path," or,  "  If  you  will 
step  a  little  closer 
you  will  observe  the  Lunatic's  Stumbling- 
Block,"  to  be  followed  by  an  account  of  my 
disasters,  with  new  and  graphic  details.  You 
will  readily  appreciate  that  I  was  not  desirous  of 
lingering  in  the  vicinity  any  longer  than  neces- 
sary, and  the  next  day  found  Harris  and  myself 
in  a  little  Nebraska  village,  with  our  names 
inscribed  on  the  register  of  the  only  hotel.  I 
had  chosen  this  point  at  my  companion's 
suggestion,  with  a  view  to  the  complete  recovery 
of  my  strength  before  attempting  my  long 
journey  home. 

The  hope  in  which  I  had  indulged,  how- 
ever— that  my  adventures  had  terminated — was 
shattered  in  the  most  abrupt  manner  on  the 
third  evening  after  my  arrival.  I  had  just 
retired  to  my  room  for  the  purpose  of  making  a 
change  of  clothing  when  I  heard  the  sound 
of  hurried  feet  approaching.  The  door  was 
violently  thrown  open,  and  I  found  myself  con- 
fronted by  a  six-shooter,  held  within  an  inch  of 
my  head  by  a  -determined-looking  individual, 
while  a  second  man  neatly  adjusted  a  pair  of 


LOST    IN    WIND    CAVE. 


447 


handcuffs  to  my  wrists,  at  the  same  time  remark- 
ing amiably,  "  Stand  up  now!  No  foolishness! 
You  come  with  us  quietly  or  we'll  blow  the  top 
of  your  head  off !  " 

My  captors  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  my  demands 
to  know  the  meaning  of  this  outrage.  Harris 
was  away,  having  informed  me  early  that  morn- 
ing that  he  was  off  to  spend  a  day  or  two  with 
a  friend  in  the  interior.  The  landlord  shrugged 
his  shoulders  and  walked  away,  and,  despite  my 
protestations,  I  soon  found  myself  for  the  first 
and  only  time  in  my  life  on  the  wrong  side  of 
prison  bars. 

The  man  who  presented  the  revolver  at  me, 
it  appeared,  was  the  sheriff  of  the  county,  and 
his  companion  proved  to  be  a  detective  from 
Iowa.  A  warrant  for  the  arrest  of  one  A — — , 
alias  half-a-dozen  other  names,  was  read  to  me, 
charging  me  with  murder,  and  it  dawned  on  me 
like  a  flash  that  I  was 
now  in  custody  to  answer 
for    the   misdeeds  of   Dr. 

A ,  the  man  who  had 

been  held  for  a  short  time 
at  Sioux  Falls  awaiting 
extradition,  and  whose 
escape  from  gaol  had  been 
described  to  me  some 
days  before. 

I  refused  point  -  blank 
to  go  to  Iowa,  and  the 
sheriff  of  the  county  in 
which  the  crime  alleged 
was  committed  was  wired 
to  come  with  the  neces- 
sary extradition  papers. 

In  the  meantime  I 
started  a  habeas  corpus 
proceeding,  which,  how- 
ever, was  not  heard,  as 
subsequent  events  ren- 
dered the  legal  remedy 
unnecessary. 

It  appears  that  the  de- 
tective    had     traced     Dr. 

A to  various  points, 

and  was  satisfied  that  in  me  he  had  discovered 
the  object  of  his  search.  You  will  certainly  credit 
me  with  perfect  frankness  when  I   inform  you 

that  the  photographs  of  Dr.  A ,  taken  with 

full  beard,. would  have  resembled  my  own  like- 
ness had  I  at  that  time  cultivated  whiskers. 

I  must  say  that  the  kindness  of  the  sheriff 
was  remarkable,  especially  when  the  fact  is  con- 
sidered that  he  had  every  reason  to  believe  me 
to  be  a  most  desperate  and  dangerous  criminal. 
Books  and  magazines  in  abundance  were 
supplied  to  me,  the  sheriff's  wife  proved  to 


an  admirable  cook,  and,  all  in  all,  I   found  the 
rtainment    provided    by    the   county   much 
sup.  rim  of  mine  host  at  the  hostelry. 

( )n  the  third  morning  tin-  Iowa  sheriff  arrived. 
When  he  saw  me  h  1  his  disgust  in  no 

measured  terms,  and  was  obliged  to  admit  that 
he  was  as  far   from  apprehending   thi  oils 

Dr.  A as  ever. 

My  release  was  speedily  arranged  for.     I  v 
pressed   to   remain   during   the   praii  ken 

on,  but  1  was  anxious  to  recn       the  Mi 
sippi,  and   1   did  not  regain  my  mental  equili- 
brium until  I  arrived  at  Detroit. 

Shortly  after  Mr.  M-  -  concluded  his  story 
wo  were  enabled  to  continue  our  journey.  As 
the  locomotive  grudgingl;  along  with  her 

enshrouded  retinue  of  cars  bumping  and  grind- 
ing in   the  rear,  one  of  the  audi'  marked, 


1    WAS    HOI  IN'.    THAT    YOU    WOULD    NOT    ASK!    THAT    Q 


casually,     "  By    the    way,     what     b 
Harris?" 

"I  was  hoping,"  replied  Mr.    M 
"that  you  would  not  ask  that  question.      S 
weeks  after  my  arrival  hoh 
paper  from  the  detective  wh< 

had     made    in     SUCh    a      SUI1 

Dr.  A 
alias  was  Harris,  on  a  rai 
was  subsequently  con' 
life  sentence      He    vas  a  pl< 
i  luded  Mr.  M ,  with 


THE   AUTHOR,    THE    REV.    F.    BIDDULPH    CLIVE. 

From  a  Photo,  by  IV.  E.  Foster. 


The    experience   which    befell    a    Church  of   England 
clergyman   while  making  the  round  of  his  "  parish  " 
in    the    Australian   bush.      A   skirmish    with    hostile 
blacks     was    followed    by     a    curious     adventure    at    a    wayside     accommodation  -  house,     where    the 
author  managed    to   turn    the    tables    in    clever    fashion  upon  a  rascally  thief. 


lwm 


HERE  seems  no  hope  of  striking 
the  track  to-night,"  said  I  to 
my  travelling  companion.  "  Ten 
minutes  more  and  the  light  will 
have  gone.  I  think  perhaps  we 
had  better  select  a  suitable  spot  for  a  camp  and 
off-saddle." 

Flack,  whose  nerves  were  becoming  some- 
what shaken,  was  quite  prepared  to  agree  to  any 
suggestion  I 
made.  He  was 
a  townsman,  and 
had  but  lately 
come  as  saddler 

t  o     B ,     a 

small  township 
where  were  situ- 
ated my  little 
vicarage  and 
the  "mother 
church "  of  a 
large  and  scat- 
tered district. 
Flack  was  a  rare 
good  sort,  per- 
forming the  part 
of  tenor  singer 
in  my  church 
choir  and  often 
accompanying 
me  to  the  outly- 
ing stations.  I 
was  glad  to  have 
him,  for  I  knew 
that  I  was  sure 


IE   AUTHOR    IN    HIS    BUSH    COSTUME. 


of  a  good  muster  if  he  had  only  time  to  spend  an 
hour  or  so  in  ihe  men's  quarters  before  the  service. 
We  were  now  on  our  way  to  a  settlement 
some  fifty  miles  from  the  township,  and,  having 
made  a  late  start,  intended  to  break  our  journey 
at  a  small  wayside  accommodation-house  about 
half  way.  How  we  managed  it  I  don't  know,  but 
just  before  sundown  we  discovered  that  we  had 
left  the  right  track  and  were  following  a  cattle- 
path  which  ran 
out  into  a 
swamp.  After 
making  one  or 
two  vain  at- 
tempts to  strike 
the  bridle-track 
again  we  decided 
there  was  no- 
thing for  it  but 
to  prepare  for  a 
night  in  the 
open. 

"I  heard  them 
say  in  the  town- 
ship that  the 
blacks  are  very 
troublesome  on 
this  road,"  said 
Flack. 

"Yes,  they  were 
last  year,  but  I've 
not  heard  of  any 
raids  being  made 
on  travellers  for 
iPiwto.        some  months." 


THE    BITER    BIT 


449 


"  Weren't  the  Conns  murdered  somewhere 
about  here  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  eaten  too,  so  report  says ;  but 
that's  some  years  ago,  and  the  blacks  are  now 
becoming  more  friendly.  It's  only  one  or  two 
outlaws  who  remain  hostile." 

"  Well,"  said  Flack,  doubtfully,  "  I  don't  half 
like  it !  Shall  we  light  a  fire  ?  It  will  be 
awfully  cold  if  we  have  to  camp  without." 

"  I'm  afraid  it  will  not  do  to  draw  attention 
to  our  position  by  lighting  a  fire,"  said  I.  "  I've 
got  one  blanket,  and  we  must  'go  whacks.' 
Fortunately  I  have  rations  for  two  days  in  the 
pack-bags.  We'll  just  hobble  the  horses  and 
trust  to  them  not  wandering  far  away." 

After  a  rather  comfortless  supper  of  salt  junk 
and  damper  and  a  nobbier  of  whisky  apiece, 
we  settled  ourselves  on  the  sheltered  side  of  a 
fallen  tree  and  were  soon  sound  asleep.  We 
could  not  have  slept  long,  however,  when  Flack, 
who  had  drawn  close  to  me  for  warmth,  roused 
me  with  a  start  by  springing  from  my  side  with 
one  wild  yell  of  "  Blacks ! "  Then  he  dis- 
appeared like  a  hare  into  the  long  grass. 


velvety  nose  had,  I  believe,  brushed  Flack's 
face.  Waking  suddenly,  the  worthy  saddler  saw 
a  shadowy  form  bending  over  him,  which  com- 
pletely upset  his  ahead- 

"I  think  we  had  better  move  on  quietly  to 
another  camping  ground,"  I  said,  when  the 
terrified  Flack  appeared  again,  looking  rather 
sheepish.  "Should  any  blacks  be  within  1 
ing,  they  will  have  marked  us  down  by  our 
shouts." 

"I  quite  agree,"  said  Mack.  "Somehow  I 
think  I  should  feel  safer  up  a  tree." 

We  accordingly  moved  on  for  some  little 
distance,  and  a  fortunate  move  fur  us  it  provi  d. 
Just  as  day  was  breaking  we  heard  a  rustling  in 
the  thick  grass  not  five  yards  away  and  were  at 
once  on  the  alert.  The  odour  of  the  Australian 
black  is  very  pronounced,  and  we  knew  without 
raising  our  heads  that  some  black  fellows  were 
on  our  track. 

Noiselessly  I    reached   out  for  my   revoh 
which  lay  ready  cocked  by  my  side,  and  awa 
developments.     As  the  blacks  passed  by  us  we 
guessed  that  our  exact  position  was  unknown  to 


MK    DISAPPEARED    LIKE   A    HAKfc. 
THE    LONG   GRASS." 


Sitting  up,  I  beheld  a  spectacle  which  at  first 
sent  a  cold  shudder  down  my  back.  Then  I 
went  into  roars  of  laughter. 

"  Come  back,  you  old  noodle,"  I  cried  ;  "  it's 
only  Pedlar  !  " 

My  horse,  Pedlar,  had  learnt  that  after 
camp  suppers  there  were  usually  stray  pieces 
of  bread  to  be  picked  up,  and  was  low 
making    his    usual    tour   of    inspection.      His 

Vol.  aiv.-57. 


them,  but  that  they  were  making 
for    the    spot    from    which    the 
shouts    had    come.      When    we 
were    satisfied    that    they    were    well    past    our 
present  location,  we  raised  ourselves  sufficiently 
to  see   through  a  cluster  of  . 
which  we  were  lying.     We  saw  two 
cautiously  taking  stock  of  our  s; 
piled   together  near  where  we  had   fir 
In  the  uncertain  light  of  early  dawn  the  bl 
were   trying   to  determine   whether   the  saddles 
were  their  quarry.     They  both  stood  stock  still, 


45° 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


with  spears  ready  to  strike  at  the  least  move- 
ment. Raising  my  revolver,  and  taking  careful 
aim  at  the  foremost  of  the  two,  I  fired  at  his 
upraised  arm,  letting  off  two  other  shots  in 
quick  succession  in  the  air. 

The  effect  was  exactly  what  I  had  anticipated. 
Thinking  they  had  fallen  into  an  ambush,  the 
terrified  blacks  bolted  without  so  much  as  a  look 


:i  I  don't  know  ;  mine's  all  right."  he  replied. 

"  Well,"  said  I,  "  mine  has  a  most  peculiar 
flavour.  I  suppose  my  palate  must  be  out  of 
order."  Nevertheless,  I  drank  the  tea  and  called 
for  a  second  cup.  Tasting  this,  I  at  once 
remarked  a  difference.  After  the  meal  I  got 
up  from  the  table  with  a  yawn. 

"  I  feel  uncommonly  tired,"  I  said  ;  "  I  think 


round.  The  arm  of 
one  of  them  hung 
helplessly  down  and 
he  left  his  spear 
behind  —  a    trophy  still    in   my   possession. 

The  sun  was  high  overhead  before  we  made 
a  start,  as  our  pack-horse  had  strayed  away  from 
the  others,  and  it  was  fully  three  hours  before 
we  came  on  his  tracks.  It  was  sundown  before 
we  came  up  to  the  half-way  accommodation- 
house,  both  of  us  very  tired.  After  hobbling 
the  horses  and  putting  their  bells  on,  we  went  in- 
side the  wretched  shanty  and  discussed  the  usual 
bush  fare — salt  junk,  "  billy  "  tea,  and  damper. 

I  must  here  mention  that  when  on  my 
country  excursions  I  discarded,  for  comfort's 
sake,  my  clerical  attire,  and  simply  wore  a  shoot- 
ing-coat and  riding-breeches.  I  always  carried 
with  me,  however,  a  gold  watch  and  chain, 
which  had  a  sovereign-purse  attached  to  the 
other  end.  The  chain  passed  through  a  button- 
hole in  my  coat.  I  noticed  that  the  man  who 
acted  as  waiter  glanced  at  the  chain  covetously 
as  he  handed  me  my  tea,  but  I  thought  no 
more  about  it. 

After  taking  a  sip  or  two  I  remarked  to  Flack, 
"  VVhat's  wrong  with  the  tea,  old  chap  ?  " 


1    FIRED    A  I     HIS    UPRAISED    ARM. 


I  shall  have  to  turn  in.  I  don't  much  like  the 
look  of  the  '  handy  man  '  here  ;  I  hope  he  won't 
'  plant '  our  horses.     Good-night,  Flack." 

The  sleeping-places  allotted  to  us  consisted 
of  two  small  rooms  under  the  same  roof,  divided 
only  by  a  wooden  partition. 

The  next  thing  I  recollect  was  a  vigorous 
thumping  on  this  partition  and  a  plaintive  voice 
crying  out,  "  Aren't  you  going  to  get  up  to-day  ?  " 
With  difficulty  I  aroused  myself  and  sat  up. 

"  I  seem  to  have  slept  like  a  log,"  I  muttered. 
"  I  might  have  been  drugged  ! "  On  jumping 
out  of  bed  and  looking  round,  I  made  the  start- 
ling discovery  that  I  had  been  relieved  of  all 
my  valuables  !  Watch,  chain,  rings,  sovereign- 
purse  (including  three  sovereigns) — all  were 
gone  !  Now,  any  Australian  who  knows  anything 
about  this  stamp  of  wayside  accommodation- 
house  will  understand  not  only  the  uselessness, 
but  the  positive  danger  of  making  a  fuss  over 
such  a  matter.  So — wisely,  as  things  turned 
out — I  said  nothing,  but  paid  my  bill  out  of 
Flack's  purse  and  proceeded  on  my  way. 


THK     MTKR     HIT. 


451 


"  What  will  you  ao?  "  said  Flack,  when  I  had 
told  him  of  my  loss  ;  "  put  the  matter  in  the 
hands  of  the  police  ?  " 

"  Quite  useless,"  I  replied.  "  Even  if  the 
police  were  inclined  to  exert  themselves  in  the 
matter,  they  would  have  small  chance  of  recover- 
ing the  things,  and  would  only  place  the  thief 
more  upon  his  guard.  I  shall  try  and  act  the 
detective  on  my  own  account." 

Arriving  in  X ,  a  once  prosperous,   but 

now  decaying,  seaport  township,  we  rode  straight 
to  the  main  "  hotel."     It  was  only  an  hotel  by 


man  for  upwards  of  thr<  •  .    I    knew  that 

there  would  be  many  baptisms  and  possibly 
some  marriages  to  perform,  as  the  bush  people, 
to  save   themselves   th<     ex]  tnd    incon 

venience  which  a  journey  to  "town 
would  often  wait  months  until  some  mil 
religion  or  other  authorized  person  n 
their  way. 

On    the   second   day   after  my  arrival    I    ■ 
rather   nonplussed   by  a   knock   at   the  door  ol 
my  room,  and  the  appearance  of  ,;.     "handy 
man "  whom   I   suspected  of  having   stolen   my 


I    was    RATHER    NONPI.1  SSED    BY    1 


courtesy;  as  a  matter  of  fact  it  was  the  most 
respectable  of  the  three  drinking-saioons  which 
the  township  boasted.  Here  I  at  once  assui 
my  clerical  garb,  and  posted  notices  to  the  effect 
that  Divine  service  would  be  held,  and  baptisms 
and  marriages  performed,  during  the  week.  As 
the  township  had  not  been  visited  by  a  cl< 


watch  :     I 

ight  lie  must  r< 
he  did  not,  I  i 

ss  had  disguised  m< 
unknown  to  him.       I 
night  of  my  arrival  at  I 

the  only  light  provided  lush  lai 


45  2 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


piece  of  wick  floating  in  an  open  jam-tin  filled 
with  fat— so  that  his  ignorance  of  my  identity 
was  hardly  remarkable. 

"  Good  morning,  sir,"  said  he,  twirling  his  hat 
and  looking  most  uncomfortable.  "  I  wanted  to 
see  you  on  a  little  business." 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  I ;  "and  who  is  the  lady  ?" 

A  man  wanting  to  see  me  on  "a  little  busi- 
ness," I  knew  from  long  experience,  meant  only 
one  thing — matrimony. 

"  Well,  sir,  she's  the  lady  at  the  Traveller's 
Rest." 

"Oh,  very  well,"  said  I;  "that  will  be  all 
right."  I  handed  him  the  inquiry  forms.  "Fill 
those  in  correctly  and  bring  them  at  ten-thirty 
to-morrow  morning,"  I  continued,  "  and  I  will 
perform  the  ceremony.  By  the  way,  my  fee  for 
marrying   is  five  pounds." 

"  Five  pounds,  sir  ! "  he  cried,  in  dismay. 
"I'm  a  poor  man.  Can't  you  do  it  for  less?  I 
haven't  got  so  much  ready  money  about  me." 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  I  said,  carelessly.  "  I  don't 
make  any  reduction,  except  in  special  cases, 
and  I  don't  consider  yours  one.  Of  course, 
you  can  please  yourself,  but  if  you  are  here  with 
the  witnesses,  and  the  documents  correctly  filled 
in,  I  shall  be  prepared  to  marry  you  on  the 
terms  I   mention.     Good  morning." 

My  next  move  was  to  find  my  friend  Flack, 
whom  I  discovered  in  a  shed  at  the  back  of  the 
"  hotel  "  surrounded  by  a  confused  collection  of 
saddles,  bridles,  reins,  pack-bags,  etc.  He  was 
rubbing  his  nose  in  silent  satisfaction  as  he 
thought  of  the  shekels  that  all  this  work  would 
bring  him. 

"  Look  here,  Flack,"  I  said,  "  I  want  you  to 
'  lie  low '  for  a  few  days.  I  think  I'm  in  luck's 
way.  If  I'm  not  mistaken  our  thief  is  going  to 
make  things  easy."  Then  I  told  him  of  my 
late  interview  with  the  "  handy  man." 

"A  gold  watch  and  chain,"  I  said,  "is  too 
precious  a  trinket  not  to  be  disported  on  one's 
wedding-day.  The  man  doesn't  recognise  me 
because  of  my  dress,  but  you  he  would  know  at. 
once,  so  you  must  keep  out  of  his  way.  If  my 
plan  works  out  as  I  hope  it  will,  you  must 
adopt  some  disguise  on  our  return.  The 
removal  of  that  unbecoming  beard  of  yours  will 
be  sufficient,  I  think,  and  make  you  passably 
good-looking  again." 

"All  right,"  laughed  Flack,  good-naturedly. 
"  You  know  there's  little  I  wouldn't  do  for  you, 
even  to  sacrificing  my  auburn  locks.  By  the  way, 
the  yardman  just  brought  me  a  side-saddleand  said 
it  was  from  the  Traveller's  Rest,  and  that  it  must 
be  ready  by  Monday  morning  at  eight  o'clock." 
'Yes,  and  so  must  we  be,"  I  replied.  "I 
intend  to  travel  with  the  bridal  party  and  spend 
another  night  at  the  Traveller's  Rest." 


Sunday  morning  dawned,  and  foremost  among 
the  congregation  assembled  to  worship  was 
Gillanders,  the  "handy  man,"  with  his  bride- 
elect.  Not  the  least  conspicuous  thing  about 
him,  I  noticed  gleefully,  was  my  watch-chain. 
The  service  was  ended  and  followed  by  the 
marriage  ceremony,  everything  being  done  quite 
"  decently  and  in  order  "  even  to  the  ring,  which 
I  demanded  to  be  "  laid  upon  the  Book,  at  the 
appointed  place,  with  the  accustomed  duty  to 
the  priest  and  clerk  " — a  piece  of  ritual  I  did 
not  usually  enforce,  at  least  so  far  as  the  "  duty  " 
was  concerned.  The  usual  congratulations 
followed,  and  I  was  asked  to  join  the  wedding- 
party  and  drink  the  health  of  the  happy  pair. 

I  soon  became  quite  friendly  with  the  wily 
Gillanders,  who  was  probably  consoling  himself 
with  the  thought  that  the  fee  which  I  had 
extorted  from  him  would  not  long  remain  in 
my  possession,  for  I  had  casually  remarked  that 
I  should  avail  myself  of  a  night's  shelter  beneath 

his  hospitable  roof  on   my  return  to  B .     I 

next  proposed,  my  work  in  X ■  being  done, 

that  we  should  set  out  together  after  an  early 
breakfast  in  the  morning,  and  to  this  he  cordially 
assented. 

I  was  up  betimes,  and,  looking  in  on  Flack  as 
I  went  to  the  coffee-room,  found  him  engaged 
in  sacrifice.  The  "auburn  locks"  were  lying 
in  a  little  heap  upon  the  coverlet  of  the  bed, 
and  the  worthy  saddler  was  even  then  engaged 
in  putting  the  finishing  touches  to  the  tips  of 
his  moustache  with  a  lump  of  beeswax. 

"  Now,  Flack,"  said  I,  as  I  gazed  upon  his 
changed  appearance  with  approval,  "  my  plan 
is  this  :  When  we  reach  Clive's  Waterfall  you 
must  propose  a  halt  for  lunch,  and  I  trust  to 
you  to  take  Gillanders  and  his  wife  away  on 
some  pretext  or  another,  so  as  to  leave  me 
behind  for  five  minutes  alone.  You  might 
suggest  that  they  should  go  and  inspect  the 
Fall,  which  is  little  known,  and  said  to  be  worth 
seeing." 

"  What's  your  idea  ?  "  said  Flack. 

"Well,  it's  more  than  likely  that  the  stolen 
property  will  be  in  their  '  swag,'  and,  if  so,  it 
won't  be  the  work  of  three  minutes  to  re- 
cover it." 

"  I  see  !  "  said  Flack,  grinning.  "  Well, 
unless  they  suspect  anything,  what  you  want 
will  be  easily  managed.    How  soon  do  we  start  ?" 

"  Eight  o'clock,  sharp." 

"  Oh,  scissors ! "  exclaimed  the  saddler,  in 
dismay.  "  And  I've  not  finished  the  side-saddle 
yet.  I've  been  counterlining  it.  I've  left  a 
corner  for  these  " — he  held  up  his  shorn  locks 
with  a  smile  — "  and  I've  made  my  charge 
accordingly  ;  it  isn't  everyone  gets  their  saddle 
padded  with  human  hair  !  " 


THE    BITER    BIT 


453 


By  half-past  eight  we  were  well  on  our  way, 
Flack — who  looked  entirely  different  without 
his  whiskers — riding  on  ahead  with  Gillanders, 
while  I  escorted  the  bride  and  drove  our  pack- 
horse  before  me.  Our  animals  were  all  fresh, 
and  by  one  o'clock  we  were  off- saddling  at 
Clive's    Gully.      After    opening    the    luncheon 


I  took  out  my  watch  and  said,  carelessly,  "  I 
think,  Gillanders,  that  we'll  get  on  our  way. 
See,  it's  barely  five  o'clock,  and  the  moon  is  full 
to-night." 

The  man's  eyes  seemed  about  to  start  from 
his  face  as  he  gazed  at  the  watch. 

"  I  shall   be  along  this  way  again   in   about 


basket,  I  undertook  to 
boil  the  "billy"  while 
the  rest  of  the  party  ex- 
plored Clive's  Waterfall, 
some  hundred  yards  or  so  above  the  crossing. 
Directly  they  had  gone  I  set  to  work.  In 
less  than  two  minutes  I  was  in  possession  of 
my  lost  property,  finding  it  all  carefully  wrapped 
together  in  a  Kanaka  handkerchief.  _  Then  I  put 
things  to  rights  again,  and  was  quite  ready  for 
the  party  when  they  returned.  At  five  o'clock 
we  rode  gaily  up  to  the  Traveller's  Rest. 
Hitching  their  horses  to  the  veranda  posts,  the 
others  went  into  the  house  to  have  a  drink. 
Before  following  them  I  hastily  donned  my 
shooting-coat  and  replaced  the  watch  in  my 
pocket  as  before.    Then,  stepping  up  to  the  bar, 


DIRECTLY   THEY    HAD    GONE    I    SET  TO    WORK 


twelve  months,"  I  con- 
tinued, watching  his  dis- 
may with  secret  enjoyment 
"If  you  haw  any  further 
'little  business'  then,  I  shall  he  at  your 
service.  By  the  way  "-at  this  I  opened  my 
sovereign-purse  and  extracted  a  coin  "  can  you 
give  me  change?  No?  Well,  never  mind. 
Once  bitten,  twice  shy,  I  suppose !  An 
revoir  !  " 

"Ta-ta,"  put   in   Flack,  as  the  dumfounded 
Gillanders   still    stood    glaring  at  us,  without  a 
word  to  say  for  himself.     "I   hope  the  saddle 
will   give    satisfaction.     It  oughl 
work  and  good  material  count  lor  anythii 
long,  mate  !  " 

And  so  we  left  him. 


She  Jlasf  Voya-gs  of  Tfre  u  Sfraftrmore. 


r/ 


By  Edward  Preston. 

A   tragic    story  of  the  old   days  of  passenger  sailing-ships.      First   came   mutiny  and   then   shipwreck, 

followed   by  seven    months  of  suffering  on  a  barren  rock   in    the    middle    of  the    Indian  Ocean.      Such 

terrible  experiences  as  are  set  forth  by  Mr.  Preston  fortunately  fall  to  the  lot  of  but  few  setuarers. 


N  the  17th  of 
April,  1875,  tne 
full-rigged  sailing- 
ship  Strathmore, 
on  board  which 
I  was  an  apprentice  or  mid- 
shipman, left  the  East  India 
Docks,  London,  and  towed 
down  the  river  to  the  powder 
ground  below  Gravesend, 
where  she  was  to  take  in  forty 
tons  of  gunpowder  for  Port 
Chalmers,  New  Zealand, 
whither  she  was  bound. 
After  loading  the  powder  we 
hove  up  anchor  and  pro- 
ceeded in  tow  to  sea,  in 
charge  of  the  Channel  pilot. 
There  were  on  board  one 
hundred  and  six  souls  — first, 
second,  and  third  class  pas- 
sengers and  crew. 

On  getting  down  to  Dover 
the     wind     came     from     the 
westward,    and     the    captain 
decided    to   tow    as    far    as 
Peachy  Head  ;  when  we  were 
opposite  that  headland  sail  was 
tug   left   us.       Off   the   Start  we 
fishing- boat,    which    took    the 
soon  after  we  lost 
for  ever,  for  most  of 

We  got  well 
across  the  Bay  of 
Biscay  and  had 
been  out  almost 
days,  when 
morning  it 
discovered 
there  was 
something  wrong 
with  the  men  for- 
ward. When  the 
second  mate  went 
to  the  fo'c's'le  to 
see  why  no  one 
came  to  relieve 
the  man  at  the 
wheel,  he  found 
all    the   crew    in-        j.)om 


MR.     EDWARD     l'KKSTON   - 
TAKEN  JUST  BEFORE  THE 


sight 


made  and  the 
fell    in    with  a 
pilot    off,     and 
of  the  English  coast  — 
us,  as  it  turned  out. 


ten 
one 
was 
that 


HIE    SAlLING-SHIl'    "  STKATIIMUU1' 


toxicated,  and  they  stead- 
fastly refused  to  come  out, 
either  to  relieve  the  wheel 
or  to  do  their  work.  Neither 
the  chief  mate  nor  the  cap- 
tain could  enforce  obedience, 
and  the  mutineers  dared 
anyone  to  come  below.  Pre- 
sently they  began  to  fight 
among  themselves,  and, 
some  of  the  steerage  passen- 
gers joining  them,  the  place 
became  a  veritable  pande- 
monium. This  terrible  state 
of  affairs  lasted  for  a  couple 
of  days,  during  which  time, 
fortunately,  the  wind  was 
light  and  steady,  as  there 
were  only  a  few  men  avail- 
able to  handle  the  ship. 

On  the  second  night  the 
mutineers  seemed  a  little 
quieter,  and  the  second  mate 
and  sail  -  maker  descended 
into  the  forecastle  and  found 
them  all  drunk  and  asleep. 
Seizing  their  opportunity,  the 
two  men  secured  all  the  bottles  of  spirits 
that  were  left  and  threw  them  overboard. 
It  was  discovered  that  the  crew  had  broken  into 
the  hold  at  the  forehatch  and  worked  their  way 
gradually  past   the   powder  to  the    after-end  of 

the  ship  (where 
spirits  are  usually 
stowed  for  safety), 
afterwards  carry- 
ing the  cases  for- 
ward to  the  fore- 
castle. They  had 
been  working  with 
lighted  candles, 
and  it  was  only  by 
a  miracle  that  they 
escaped  blowing 
up  the  ship,  for  we 
found  pieces  of 
burnt  candle  which 
they  had  dropped 
between  the  kegs 
of  gunpowder. 


KROM      A      1HOTOGRA1H 
STRATHMORE  "  SAILED 
LAST   VOYAGE. 


[  /  'hoto. 


THE    LAST    VOYAGE    OF    THE    "STRATUM* 


455 


The  following  day  the  men,  now  in  a  half- 
stupefied  condition,  once  more  refused  to  work. 
The  captain  became  very  anxious,  for  he  saw  we 
were  in  for  a  gale,  and  as  we  had  every  stitch  of 
sail  set  it  was  necessary  to  take  in  most  of  it. 
There  was  nobody  to  do  the  work,  however,  in 
the  short  time  available,  unless  the  passengers 
could  manage  to  help.  Finally,  about  seven  or 
eight  of  the  saloon  passengers  volunteered  to  go 
up  and  try  what  they  could  do,  and  I  must  say 
they  accomplished  their  novel  task  remarkably 
well.  Just  after  we  had  got  down  from  aloft 
the  mutinous  crew  were  seen  coming  aft  in  a 
body.  They  threatened  that  if  the  captain  did 
not  give  them  more  liquor  they  would  smash  up 
the  steering  gear  and  disable  the  ship.  They 
were  evidently  in  a  very  ugly  frame  of  mind, 
and  meant  all  they  said.  The  captain,  however, 
had  expected  something  like  this,  and  when  the 
mutineers  got  to  the  foot  of  the  poop-ladder 
they  found  themselves  covered  by  the  muzzles 
of  about  a  dozen  revolvers,  held  by  the  officers 
and  most  of  the  saloon  passengers.    The  captain 


When   they  found  out  that  the  course    had 
been  altered,  the  nun  i 
demand  the  reason. 

"You'll  soon  know  all  about  it,"  said  the 
captain,    grimly.       "We're    goin]  ion, 

where  I  shall  be  able  to  deal  with  you  pn 

The  prospect  of  imprisonment  cowed  I 
mutineers;  they  begged  him  to  stand  on  .is  he- 
was  before,  promising  that  they  would  go  to 
work  and  give  no  further  trouble  for  tin-  rest  o( 
the  voyage.  The  captain  accordingly  altered 
his  course  again,  as  it  would  have  entailed  great 
expense  and  loss  of  time  to  go  into  Lisbon. 

After  this  things  went  on  fairly  well.  Oil 
getting  to  the  Lquator  Neptune  visited  the  ship, 
and  the  usual  formalities  were  gone  through. 

Two  or  three  days  after  this  we  fell  in  with  a 
Glasgow  ship,  the  Loch  Maree^  homeward  bound 
from  Australia,  and  they  lowered  a  boat  and 
sent  some  men  on  board  of  us  to  get  some  pro- 
visions and  take  our  letters  to  England.  ( )t 
course,  the  report  of  the  mutiny  on  board  our 
ship    went    home,    letting   people    know  what  a 


THEY    FOUND    1HE 


•MM  1. Vis    COVERED    BY    THE    MUZZLES    OF    ABOI    I     A    DO!  ' 


then  ordered  the  men  to  go  forward,  telling 
them  that  if  they  attempted  to  put  foot 
on  the  poop-ladder  we  should  shoot.  The 
mutineers  therefore  thought  it  best  to  retire, 
which  they  did  sullenly,  still  declaring,  however, 
that  they  would  not  work.  The  captain 
accordingly  made  up  his  mind  to  alter  the 
course  and  run  for  Lisbon,  where  the  mal- 
contents could  be  given  in  charge. 


narrow  escape  we  had  had  of  being  blown  U] 

the  gunpowder.     Naturally,  tl 

ship  became  "overdue  "  and  was  finallj 

at   Lloyd's  as  "missing,"  pi 

that  the  crew  must    ha> 

again  ami  accidentally  des 

All  went  well  with  us  until  about  the  24th 
Line,    when    we    were    "running     down 
easting"  in  latitude  forty-nine  ssouth. 


456 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


came  on  very  foggy,  and  the  wind  increased  to  a 
heavy  gale.  No  observations  could  be  taken, 
either  by  night  or  day,  and  we  had"  to  rely  on 
dead  reckoning  for  our  position.  On  the  night 
of  June  30th,  at  eight  bells,  the  captain,  knowing 
he  must  be  getting  somewhere  near  the  Crozet 
group  of  islands,  had  sail  reduced,  and  orders 


into  the  boats,  but  before  this  could  be  done, 
except  in  a  few  instances,  the  boats  were  all 
carried  away  or  smashed  by  the  heavy  seas  which 
were  now  breaking  over  the  doomed  ship, 
sweeping  everyone  overboard  who  had  not 
made  for  the  rigging. 

It  was   so   intensely   dark   and   foggy   that — 


SHE    KAN    HER    bOWS   ON    TO   A    BIG    SUGAR-LOAF-SHAPED    ROCK. 


were  given  to  the  watch  on  deck  to  maintain  an 
extra  good  look-out  and  keep  our  ears  open  for 
the  sound  of  breakers.  According  to  his 
reckoning,  however,  the  captain  expected  to 
pass  about  twenty  miles  to  the  north  of  the 
islands. 

At  3.40  a.m.  on  July  1st  the  cry  of  "  Breakers 
ahead  "  rang  out,  and  the  helm  was  put  hard-a- 
starboard  and  the  yards  braced  up.  All  hands 
were  called,  but  before  some  of  them  could  get 
on  deck  there  was  a  tremendous  crash,  the  ship 
striking  heavily  right  under  the  poop  and  breaking 
her  rudder.  The  next  sea  carried  her  over  the 
reef  into  deep  water,  where  she  ran  her  bows  on 
to  a  big  sugar-loaf-shaped  rock  and  immediately 
began  to  sink  by  the  stern.  The  water  rushed 
up  through  the  saloon  and  forced  the  terrified 
passengers,  who  were  making  their  way  up  the 
ladder,  on  to  the  deck.  The  ship  was  sinking 
so  fast  that  there  was  no  time  to  attempt  to 
launch  the  boats  or  even  to  cut  them  all  loose. 
Orders  were  given  to  get  the  women  and  children 


perhaps  fortunately  for  ourselves — we  could  see 
very  little  of  what  was  going  on  around  us.  We 
who  had  escaped  being  washed  overboard  all 
got  into  the  mizzen-top,  where  we  huddled 
miserably,  not  knowing  whether  the  ship  would 
go  down  altogether  or  how  long  the  masts  would 
hold.  We  were  half  frozen  with  cold  and  wet, 
and  our  limbs  were  without  feeling. 

When  daylight  came  we  found  that  there  were 
twenty-four  of  us  up  the  mast,  and  we  thought 
at  first  that  all  the  rest  of  the  hundred  and  six 
souls  on  board  had  perished.  Several  of  us 
started  to  go  down  the  stays  to  the  main-mast 
and  then  to  the  forward  part  of  the  ship,  as  the 
vessel  seemed  to  be  higher  at  that  end.  We 
thought,  too,  that  perhaps  we  might  be  able  to 
get  on  shore.  When  we  got  forward  we  found 
two  more  men  holding  on  to  the  forecastle  rail 
on  the  port  side,  there  being  about  twenty  feet 
of  it  out  of  water.  To  our  dismay  we  dis- 
covered that  there  was  no  chance  whatever  of 
getting  on   shore,  as   a   stupendous  cliff,  quite 


THE    LAST    VOYAGE    OF    THE    "STRATHMORE 


ir7 


two  thousand  feet  high,  towered  perpendicularly 
above  us. 

Presently  we  noticed  that  one  of  our  small 
boats  was  floating  in  the  heavy  surf  about  twenty 
yards  off.     Although  her  painter  was  fast  to  the 
mast  we  dare  not  think  of  pulling  her  near  the 
ship,    so   about   a   dozen    of  us    went    up    on 
the    foreyard    and    dropped 
from  it  into  the  boat,  which 
was   half  full  of  water.      We 
had    to    bale    constantly   to 
keep  her  afloat  in  the  heavy 
broken  water,  and  it  was  only 
by  the  good  management  of 
the    second  officer   that   the 
tiny  craft  ever  lived.     When 
the    boat  was  full  —  danger- 
ously full — we    pulled   away 
through     the    fog,    following 
the  line  of  breakers  as  near 
as  we  dare  for  about  half  an 
hour,    when    we    got      into 
smooth  water,  and  knew  by 
this  that  we  must  be  on  the 
lee   side  of  the   rock.       We 
kept  coasting  along  the  great 
cliffs,    looking  in  vain  for   a 
landing  -  place.        While    we 
were    thus   engaged    the  fog 
lifted    for   a   while,    and    we 
saw   a    boat    full   of   people 
about   a    mile   off.       At   this   sight   we   raised 
a   feeble   cheer,    thinking    the   craft    belonged 
to    some    whaler    and    that    we    should   soon 
have   assistance.      We    made   straight  for   her, 
but  when   we   reached  her  found    it   was  only . 
one  of  the  Strathmore 's  four  after-boats,  which 
had  got  clear  when  washed  overboard.     In  it 
were  eighteen  men  and  one  lady,  the  only  lady 
saved.     The  party  were  in  a  very  bad  way  ;  the 


MRS.  WORDSWORTH,  THE  ONLY  LADY 

THE  WRECK  OK  THE  "  STRATHMORE." 

From  a  Plwto.  by  Window  and  Grove. 


time.      We  took  the  lifeboat  in  tow  and   \ 

back    to    the    land,    but    then 

place,  and    that   about    t  from    the 

water,      when-      we      i  ould      make     a      1 
This  we   did   one   at   a    time,   tl 
members  of  the   party  (limbing  ii|i   ! 
hold    of  the   crevices    in    the  ro( 

hauling  their  li 

rades   ashore   with    a    r< 
The   unfortunates   who   bad 

n  I'll  on  the  wreck  had 
to  be  thought  ol    next,  and 

the  second    mate    j  me 

volunteers   to  k  with 

him. 

While  the  small  boat  was 
uing    the  crew   and    p 
sengers  left  on  the  wi 
few   of    us   took   the    wal 
ged  lifeboat  and   went  to 
■  add   pick   up  any- 
thing   in    the    way   of    pi 
visions,    but    all    we    found 
floating    about    were    one    ol 
the    pa;  s    boxes    and 

a    case    containing    half- a- 
do/en   large  tins  of  Keill 
sweetmeats.   The  box  yiel< 
about   half-a-dozen  blank 
a   lot  of   silver   spoons   and 
table  knives,    and    also— the 
irony    of  it! — a  parasol,   an   antimacassar,  and 
two  salt-cellars  !     By  collecting  all  the  pi 
wreckage  we  could   find  we   gathered   enough 
firewood  to  last  us  about  a  month. 

The  mate  returned  at  dusk  with  a  boatload 
people,  who  had  had  to  drop  from  the  mizzen- 
top  into  the  water  to  be  picked  up. 

It  was  now  too  dark  to  attempt  to  r<  -cue  the 
remainder  of  the  people  on   the  wreck.  -•  >  watch 


THE    CROZET    GROUP    OF      Isl  ANDS,     i  HI 

AND   mini 


boat  was  stove  in  and  full  of  water  ;  they  had 
lost  their  oars  and  were  baling  for  their  lives. 
The  boat  was  fast  drifting  away  from  ttii  land. 
and  her  occupants  were  all  but  helpless  with 
the  fearful  cold,  for  it  was  freezing  hard  all  the 


was  kept  in  the  boal 
from  being 

morning  the  small  bo 
took  off  thi 
had  they  gol  i 


Vol. 


58. 


458 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


leaving  no  part  of  the  poor  old  Strnthmore 
visible. 

The  first  night  passed  on  the  barren  rock  was 
terrible.  We  were  in  the  open  air,  with  nothing 
to  eat.  and  the  temperature  must  have  been 
rounJ  about  zero.  Fortunately  the  boat  had 
picked  up  a  couple  of  cases  of  gin  and  rum,  two 
kegs  of  powder,  and  a  cask  of  port  wine,  and 
we  used  the  liquor  sparingly  to  keep  the  cold 
out.  One  poor  fellow  died  soon  after  we  got 
him  on  shore  from  the  effects  of  the  cold  and 
shock  of  immersion,  and  we  committed  his 
body  to  the  sea. 

The  next  night  it  came  on  to  blow  hard  from 
the  southward,  and  at  daylight  we  found  to  our 


us,  and  we  had  to  dodge  very  carefully  or  they 
would  have  hurt  us  badly  with  their  long  beaks. 
They  were  quite  strong  enough  to  break  a 
man's  arm,  some  of  them  measuring  about 
twenty  feet  across  the  wings  We  had 
no  difficulty,  however,  in  getting  near  them, 
and  could  knock  them  on  the  head  with 
clubs,  which  most  of  us  had  provided  ourselves 
with  from  the  bits  of  wreckage.  There  were  also 
lots  of  other  birds  flying  about — quite  tame — 
but  we  did  not  know  their  names.  We  caught 
our  birds  by  knocking  them  down  with  clubs, 
when  we  skinned  them  and  cut  them  up  for 
boiling  in  the  sweetmeat  tins  we  had  saved, 
using  half  fresh  and  half  salt  water.       For  the 


J 


WE    SKINNED    THEM    AND   CUT   THEM    UP    FOR    BOII-INC. 


dismay  that  our  boats  had  been  smashed  to 
pieces  against  the  cruel  rocks.  This  was  a 
great  calamity,  for  we  now  had  no  chance  of 
getting  across  to  a  big  island  called  Hog  Island, 
which  we  could  see  in  the  distance  some  fifteen 
miles  off.  We  had  intended  to  go  there  because 
there  was  no  sign  of  wood  for  firing  on  the 
rocky  islet  we  had  been  wrecked  upon. 

We  spent  some  time  looking  for  caves  to  live 
in,  but  there  was  not  a  single  cavern  anywhere  to 
be  found  on  the  island.  We  then  took  a  boat's 
mast  up  to  the  topmost  crag  and  planted  it  as  a 
signal  staff,  in  case  we  should  see  a  passing 
vessel.  We  found  several  albatrosses'  nests  on 
the  higher  rocks,  with  a  young  one  in  each  and 
the  old  ones  flying  about.  Whenever  we  went 
near  a  nest  the  old  birds  would  swoop  down  on 


time  we  had  food  enough  in  the  meat  way,  but 
we  felt  the  lack  of  bread  and  vegetables  very 
badly  at  first.  Fortunately  there  was  plenty  of 
fresh  water  on  the  rock  ;  the  melting  snow  on 
the  summit  made  a  brook  of  beautiful  water. 

We  agreed  among  ourselves  to  keep  a  look- 
out in  turns  on  the  top  of  the  hill  for  passing 
ships,  and  the  one  who  had  the  look-out  for  the 
day  was  exempt  for  the  time  from  providing  his 
own  food.  There  being  no  caves,  we  selected 
as  sleeping-places  points  where  there  was  an 
overhanging  crag.  We  then  built  up  an  outer 
wall  of  flat  stones  as  high  as  we  could  reach,  just 
leaving  a  small  hole  at  one  end  to  creep  in  by. 
When  we  went  to  bed  we  had  to  crawl  in  one  at 
a  time,  and  pack  ourselves  like  sardines  in  a  tin 
to  keep  ourselves  warm. 


THE    LAST    VOYAGE    OK    THE    "STRATHMOR1 


Thus  two  months  passed  away,  with  never  the 
sight  of  a  sail  to  cheer  us- -nothing  but  the 
eternal  panorama  of  barren  rock  and  restless 
sea.  By  this  time  the  birds  were  beginning  to 
get  shy  and  very  scarce.  Our  clubs  were  of  no 
use,  for  the  few  remaining  birds  would  not  let 
us  get  near  them.  We  therefore  had  to  carry 
ammunition  in  the  shape  of  stones,  and  soon  got 
marvellously  proficient.  We  knew  that  if  we 
did  not  hit  the  bird  on  the  head  it  would  in  all 
probability  get  away  and  there  would  be  no  meal 
for  us,  so  we  seldom  missed. 

From  this  time  onwards  things  grew  steadily 
worse.  We  were  starving — there  was  no  dis- 
guising the  fact ;  we  could  not  catch  birds 
enough  for  half  of  us.  A  few  days  more  and 
there  was  not  a  bird  left.  This  happened  on  a 
Wednesday,  and  we  had  nothing  to  eat  day  after 
day  until  Sunday  night.  Men  looked  into  their 
comrades'  emaciated  faces  with  sullen,  question- 
ing looks,  and  I  dreaded  some  fearful  outbreak. 
On  the  Sunday  night,  however,  the  man  on  the 
look-out  came  running  down  the  hillside,  calling 
out,  excitedly,  "  Birds,  boys,  birds  ! "  We 
rushed  out,  and  to  our  joy  saw  hundreds  and 
thousands  of  birds  wheeling  round  the  island 
and  alighting  on  the  rock.  Seizing  our  clubs, 
we  made  for  them,  knocking  them  down  quite 
easily.  It  seemed  as  though  they  had  never 
seen  a  human  being  before,  for  they  did  not 
make  the  least  attempt  to  get  away.  We  killed 
a  great  number,  and  began  to  eat  them  just  as 
they  were,  for  we  were  starving,  and  had  no 
means  of  cooking  them  at  the  time.  These 
birds  were  about  the  size  of  a  goose,  and  we 
had  never  seen  any  like  them  before.  The  body 
was  snow-white,  and  they  had  black  wings  from 
ten  to  twelve  feet  across.  A  few  of  them  had 
pale  blue  heads  and  others  had  yellow  beaks, 
but  the  majority  had  white  heads  and  black 
beaks.  Their  proper  name,  I  believe,  is  molly- 
hawks,  as  we  found  out  afterwards. 

Just  about  this  time  one  of  our  number  met 
with  a  curious  adventure.  He  saw  a  strange- 
looking  thing  like  a  little  man  climb  out  of 
the  water,  and,  being  frightened  at  the  apparition, 
ran  away  and  came  to  tell  the  rest  of  us  about 
the  weird  thing  he  had  seen.  Some  of  us  went 
to  the  spot  and  recognised  the  creature  as  a 
penguin.  In  a  few  hours  penguins  began  to 
climb  up  on  to  the  rock  in  great  numbers. 
Evidently  the  island  was  one  of  their  breeding- 
places,  and  after  this  we  gathered  as  many  eggs 
as  we  wanted. 

Meanwhile,  day  after  day,  we  strained  our 
eyes  watching  for  passing  ships.  A  dull  despair 
had  settled  down  upon  many  of  the  castaways  ; 
they  appeared  to  think  we  were  doomed  to 
spend     the    rest    of    our    lives  on    this    barren 


rock,  subsisting    miserabl)   on    birds'  flesh  and 
eggs. 

Once  or  twice   \s.    sighted   ships    in   the   rj 
tance,  but  they  took  no   notice  "I  out  frantic 
signals.      One    ship   passed    ver)    cloa     to 
nearly  running  on   the  rocks  herself  in 
squall.     She  was  so  close  that  we  could  actuall) 
see  men  running  about  the  dei  k.  trim  mil 
and  sails,  and  also  a  group  ol  passengers  on 
poop-deck.      We   went   very   nearly  I  i.t/y  at   the 
sight,  thinking  our  troubles  were   now  over,  but 
she  went  away  without  even  hoisting   her  flag. 
Some   of  our   party,   in    the    bitter    fury  ol 
appointment,     called    down    curses     upon     her 
because  she   took  no   notice   of  our  signal 
distress,   which    must   have   been   plainly  visible. 
The  skipper,  however,  evidently  did   not  want 
to  lose  any  time  ;  he  wanted  to  make  a  quick 
passage  out  to   Sydney,  whither   he  was  bound, 
and   would    not   waste   time    in    taking    us    pool 
wretches   off.      lor   two    months   more   we   kept 
up  heart,    thinking   he  might   report   us   on    his 
arrival   at  Sydney,   when   the   authorities   would 
have  cabled  to  the  Cape  of  Good   Hope  and  a 
man-of-war  would  have  been  sent  to  our  rescue. 
We    found    out   afterwards    that    this    inhuman 
captain   never  reported  the   matter  at   all,   and 
even  went  so  far  as  to  tell  his  pass.  that 

we  were  not  castaways,  but  only  a  party  of 
sealers,  down  there  for  the  season.  He  told  his 
crew  to  say  nothing  about  the  matter,  but 
of  his  men  did  speak  about  it,  and  the  captain 
was  put  upon  his  trial.  I  am  happy  to  say  that 
his  certificate  was  taken  from  him.  That  was 
all  that  could  be  done  to  him,  although  morally 
he  was  nothing  less  than  a  murderer. 

By  this  time  our  clothes  were  beginning  t" 
get  very  much  the  worse  for  wear.  Some  few 
had  to  make  clothes  out  of  penguin  skins,  sewn 
together  with  pieces  of  grass,  or  worsted  un- 
ravelled from  socks  or  woollen  clothing.  The 
life  we  were  compelled  to  live  told  heavily  on 
us,  and  one  by  one  the  castaways  fell  ill  and 
died,  till  we  had  buried  three  victims  ol  that 
unknown  skipper's  hard-heartedm 

So     Christmas     (aim-        and     what     a     sorry 
mockery   of    a    Christmas    party  we  w< 
miserable    band    of    weather  beaten,    en. 
wretches,  cast  away  on  a  barren   rock 
without  a  hope  of  rescue  !     On  ( 'hristm 
to  add  to  the  utter  wretchedm 
another  of  the  party  died,  and  as 
we   wondered    mutely    how    long 
before  we  shared   his   fate. 

On  the  2  ist   of  January,  just    I 
we  sighted  a  vessel 

Pell-mell    we    rushed    up  and 

hoisted  a  blanket  as  a  signal.     W  her 

anxiously  for  half  an  h 


460 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


then  we  saw  her  turn  towards  us.  I  shall  never 
forget  the  sensations  of  that  moment.  We 
began  to  hug  one  another  for  joy,  leaping  and 
dancing  like  maniacs.  Some  of  the  party  nearly 
lost  their  senses  when  they  realized  that  our 
long  and  terrible  exile  was  almost  at  an  end. 
When  the  ship  got  close  enough  she  lowered 
two  boats,  and  we  saw  she  was  a  whaler.  The 
captain  himself  came  away  in  the  first,  and 
when  he  got  as  close  as  he  dare  to  the  rocks  he 
asked  us  if  we  could  speak  English.  He  then 
asked  how  long  we  had  been  on  the  island,  and 
when  we  told  him  seven  months  he  could  hardly 
believe  it,  saying  he  did  not  know  how  we  could 
have  existed.  He 
then  sent  us  some 
beef,  pork,  and 
biscuits  ashore  by 
means  of  a  line 
which  he  threw 
to  us.  We  next 
clamoured  for 
tobacco,  which  he 
had  had  the  fore- 
thought to  bring 
with  him.  He 
told  us  he  could 
do  nothing  more 
as  it  was  coming 
on  dark,  but  he 
would  take  the 
lady  and  any  sick 
men  off  with  him 
that  night.  We  ac- 
cordingly lowered 
them  down  to  the 


boat  by  ropes,  and  away  they  went,  promising 
to  come  back  in  the  morning. 

The  next  morning,  which  was  remarkably 
bright  and  fine,  saw  the  rescue  of  the  rest  of  us. 
We  were  at  once  taken  on  board  the  whaler, 
where  we  received  every  attention  and  kindness 
from  Captain  Gifford  and  his  wife.  We  sailed 
away  that  morning,  bidding  a  last  farewell  to 
the  island  where  we  had  spent  so  many  weary 
months,  and  where  some  of  our  unfortunate 
comrades  lay  buried.  On  the  morning  of  the 
26th  of  January  we  fell  in  with  a  Liverpool  ship, 
the  Sierra  Morena,  bound  for  Kurrachee,  which 
took  off  some  of  us,  and  the  same  after- 
noon we  sighted 
another  Liverpool 
vessel,  the  Chil- 
ders,  bound  for 
Rangoon,  and  the 
captain  of  the 
latter  agreed  to 
receive  the  re- 
maining twenty. 
So  at  length,  after 
some  delay,  the 
various  survivors 
returned  home,  to 
the  great  astonish- 
ment and  joy  of 
their  relations, 
who  had  never 
thought  to  set  eyes 
again  on  either  the 
passengers  or  crew 
of  the  ill  -  fated 
Strathmore. 


WE  ACCORDINGLY   LOWERED   THEM    DOWN    TO   THE    BOAT    BY    KOI'ES, 


Six   Cyclists   Among   the    "  Boxers." 

By  the  Visi  ouni    di    Soiss(  ins. 

How    six   plucky  cyclists  set  out  to  ride  from  Tien-Tsin    to  Pekin  just    before  the  "Boxer"  outbreak; 
how  they  fell  among  the  "  Boxers  "  and  captured  their  arsenal ;  and  how,  after   a  succession 

ing  adventures,  they  finally  accomplished  their  journey. 


UST  three  months  before  the  famous 
march  of  Admiral  Seymour  to  relieve 
the  besieged  Legations  in  Pekin,  and 
at  a  time  when  the  whole  country 
was  in  a  state  of  ferment,  six  Euro- 
pean cyclists  ventured  on  a  journey  from  Tien- 
Tsin  to  Pekin  on  bicycles.  Although  it  only 
took  a  short  time,  the  ride  proved  the  reverse  of 
uneventful. 

The  names  of  these  daring  enthusiasts  were 
as   follows  :     M.    A.     Houillon,    a    Frenchman, 
professor  at  the  Imperial  College  of  Medicine 
at  Tien-Tsin  ;  M.  Jean   Blase,  also  a    French 
man,  director  of  the  Franco-Chinese  Com- 
mercial   and    Industrial    Company ;    Mr. 
R.  Stewart,  an  Englishman ;  M.  B.  Loup, 
a    Swiss  ;    M.   Edouard    Jean    Melgard,  a 
Frenchman  ;     and     Heir    J.     Brunger,     a 
Dutchman.     The  first   four  rode  a  quad- 
ruplet and  the  last  two  a  tandem. 

The  six  men  left  Tien  -  Tsin  on  the 
morning  of  the  14th  of  April,  and  reached 
the  capital  of  the  Celestial  Empire  on 
the  15th,  at  eleven  in  the  forenoon. 

It  was  not  exactly  a  record  -  breaking 
achievement — one  hundred  and  twenty 
miles  in  thirty-one  hours  ;  but  cyclists 
who  hastily  jump  to  this  conclusion  are 
probably  thinking  of  performances  on 
good  roads,  where  there  are  no  hostile 
"  Boxers  "  to  reckon  with. 

The  travellers,  thinking  that  the  country 
through  which  they  would  have  to  pass 
was  quiet,  left  Tien-Tsin  in  the  grey  of 
the  morning  at  four  o'clock,  flitting  like 
ghosts  down  the  streets.  At  the  city  gate 
they  were  stopped  by  a  sentry. 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  To  Pekin,"  said  M.  Blase. 

"What  for?" 

"  For  fun." 

"  People  don't  go  to  Pekin  for  fun." 

"  I  tell  you  we  are  going  for  fun." 

"  No,  you  are  not  ;  you  are  smuggling 
whisky." 

"Oh  !  That  is  what  you  want,  is  it?'" 
said  M.  Houillon,  laughing.  "  Here  is  my 
flask  ;  have  a  drink." 

The  Chinaman  drained  it  to  the  bottom. 


"Now  I  will  let   you   go   011!  but 

take  care  not  to  frighten  tin-  old  women  on 
road." 

I  aligning  at  the  gatekeepi  r's  <  Celestial  m 
of  getting  a  drink,  the  party  went  on.      B 
they  had  gone  many  paces,  however,  1 1 . .  r< 
chorus  of  shouts,    for  the   large    ma<  hine    li.nl 
bumped  into  a  rock  and  sent  its  riders  sprawling 
in  the  dust.     They  got  up,  rubbing  then 
and  then  proceeded  a  trifle  more  can-full).      I 
a  while  they  got  on  all   right,  and  then,  ah< 
they  saw  a  string  of  old  women  carrying  bund 
So  quietly  did  tin-  cycles  come  up  that  ti 


•'  SHU   WOKE    HIM    IT    1    ■ 


462 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAC.AZINE. 


not  heard.  Then  the  old  hags  dropped  on  their 
faces,  screaming  with  terror — all  except  one,  who 
sprang  at  the  strangers,  and,  hanging  on  to 
M.  Loup  by  the  leg,  pulled  him  right  off 
his  machine.  The  others  dismounted  and  found 
the  Swiss  seated  on  the  ground  and  his  captor 
swinging  her  big  hands  menacingly,  while  the 
European  sat  gazing  at  her  in  amazement, 
until  she  woke  him  up  by  a  sharp  slap  on 
the  ear.  The  effect  was  magical  and  un- 
looked-for, for  it  not  only  displaced  his  eye- 
glasses, but  his  false  teeth  fell  out  ! 

The  old  woman  dropped  on  the  road,  cower- 
i  n  g   down   in   an 
ecstasy  of  terror. 

"Do  you  see," 
she  wailed,  "he 
takes  out  his  teeth 
and  throws  his  eyes 
at  me !  Take  my 
chicken  and  my 
eggs,  but  don't  take 
me." 

The  discomfited 
Swiss  saw  his  oppor- 
tunity, for  it  was 
evident  the  woman 
took  him  for  a 
demon.  In  a 
moment  he  became 
majestic,  and,  col- 
lecting his  property, 
got  on  to  the  cycle 
again,  saying  in 
Chinese,  while  his 
late  assailant 
shrieked  with 
fear  :— 

"Then  do  not 
again  attack  super- 
natural beings  ! " 

After  this  en- 
counter the  party 
rode  on,  or,  to  speak 
more  correctly, 
bumped  on,  for  the 
neglects  its  roads  with 
truly  wonderful. 

Imagine  to  yourself  a  sandy  strip  studded 
with  hollows  and  rocks  the  size  of  a  man's  head, 
alternated  with  ruts  nine  inches  deep.  Such  a 
road  is  not  exactly  the  ideal  track  for  bicycle- 
riding,  and  at  their  sixth  tumble  Mr.  Stewart 
could  not  help  exclaiming  :  "Well,  these  China 
men  have  got  a  decent  amount  of  cheek  to  call 
this  an  Imperial  military  road." 

After  a  long  and  dismal  run  the  party  reached 
a  village  and  entered  the  house  of  a  man  who 
was  reputed  to  be  enormously  rich.     This  pluto- 


HE   CUT   THE    STRING    THAT    HELD   THE   CORK    DOWN. 

Chinese    Government 
an    assiduity    that    is 


crat  told  them  he  would  show  them  his  greatest 
treasure. 

The  travellers  went  into  the  room  indicated, 
but  to  their  astonishment  all  they  saw  were  half- 
a-dozen  bottles  of  soda-water.  The  rich  China- 
man assured  them  that  there  were  only  ten  more 
in  existence. 

This  was  too  much  for  M.  Melgard. 
"  You  don't  believe  that,  you   old  duffer,  do 
you  ?  "  he  cried.     "  We  can  buy  these  for  ten 
cents  each  in  my  country." 

The  old  man   looked   at   him,    sighed   com- 
miseratingly,  and  then,  tapping  his  head  signi- 
ficantly,     whispered 
audibly    to    the 
others  :  — 

"Is  his  box 
cracked  ?  " 

The  excitable 
Frenchman,  hearing 
the  remark,  flew  into 
a  rage,  whereupon 
the  Chinaman,  wish- 
ing to  appease  him, 
asked  : — 

"  And  what  do 
you  do  with  them  ?  " 
"This  !"  shouted 
the  Frenchman,  and, 
opening  one  of  the 
bottles,  he  drank  its 
contents  before  the 
eyes  of  its  astonished 
owner.  The  pro- 
ceeding interested 
the  Celestial,  and 
taking  up  a  bottle 
and  a  knife  he  cut 
the  string  that  held 
the  cork  down. 
There  was  a  yell,  a 
curse  in  Chinese, 
and  the  good  man 
sat  down  heavily 
on  the  floor.  Five 
seconds  later  he  got  up,  his  face  trickling 
with  soda-water,  and  one  eye  closed  where 
the  flying  cork  had  struck  him.  He  eyed 
M.  Melgard  savagely,  and  seizing  a  sword  from 
the  wall  told  him  he  was  going  to  cut  his  ears 
off.  The  sight  of  a  revolver,  however,  pacified 
the  enraged  Chinaman  quicker  than  all  the 
words  in  the  dictionary,  but,  nevertheless,  the 
travellers  deemed  it  prudent  to  depart  on  their 
way,  leaving  the  plutocrat  grumbling  among  his 
soda-water  bottles. 

Before  they  had  gone  more  than  three  miles 
they  observed  a  number  of  suspicious-looking 
men  lurking  among  the  bushes  by  the  roadside, 


SIX    CYCLISTS    AMONG    THE    "  Bl  »\l  I 


463 


and  therefore  hastened  their  pace.  This  move 
was  observed,  and  presently,  immediately 
behind  them,  about  fifty  men  armed  with  pit<  li 
forks  and  old  guns  came  pouring  on  to  the  road. 
Over  their  heads  fluttered  a  black  flag  with  a 
yellow  tiger  on  it — the  "  Boxer  "  standard. 

The  cyclists  flew  on  at  top  speed,  for  the  band 
looked  dangerous.  At  the  bend  of  the  road  a 
house  came  into  sight.  Suddenly,  as  luck  would 
have  it,  one  of  the  cycles  bumped  heavily,  and 
with  a  bang  a  tyre  punctured  ! 

"  We  will  stop  at  the  house,  get  inside, 
and  defend  ourselves  if  necessary!1'  yelled  M. 
Houillon. 

They  got  inside  the  door  of  the  hut,  but  in 
the  very  first  room  were  fiercely  attacked  by 
three  men,  whom  Mr.  Stewart  soon  placed 
hors  de  combat  with  his  revolver. 

"  Now,  you  who  didn't  bring  revolvers,  strip 
these  beggars  of  their  weapons  and  barricade 
the  door,"  he  cried.  "  I  told  you  there  would 
be  a  row,  but  you  wouldn't  listen  ! " 

In   a   moment  the  door  was   barricaded  and 
some    of   the    men    scattered    to    the    different 
windows,  while  the  others  made  a  hasty  search 
of  the  house.     In  the  inner  room,  to 
their    surprise,    they    found    quite    an 
arsenal  of  weapons — swords,  revolvers, 
cartridges,  and,   most  curious  of  all,  a 
Gatling  gun  and  ammunition. 

"Hurrah!"  yelled  Mr.  Stewart. 
"  We'll  fight  the  scoundrels  with  their 
own  weapons.  We  have  stumbled  into 
a  Boxer  storehouse,  I  suppose." 

Loup  and  Blase,  who  were  at  the 
window  watching  their  pursuers, 
now  reported  that  they  had  stop- 
ped some  way  off,  evidently  dis- 
mayed at  the  capture  of  their 
arsenal,  but  that  more  men  were 
coming  up  every  moment. 

Suddenly  a  shot  rang  out  and 
a  bullet  struck  quite  near  the 
window.  Then,  with  wild  yells, 
the  Chinamen  charged  towards 
the  house.  Fortunately,  Stewart 
and  Houillon  were  old  soldiers. 
The  one  had  served  in  Egypt 
under  Kitchener,  and  the  other  had 
been  a  lieutenant  of  Cuirassiers  : 
and  the  mechanism  of  the  Gatling 
was  an  open  book  to  them.  In  a 
flash  they  had  run  the  gun  to  the 
window,  loaded  it,  and  turned  the 
handle.  The  weapon  spat  out  a 
vicious  hail  of  bullets,  and  half-a- 
dozen  of  the  assailants  fell,  while 
the  others  scattered,  yelling  im- 
precations. 


"  ( 'arry  all   the  w 
ordered  Mr.  Stewart,  who  had  now  taken  I  hi 
of  affairs.      "  We  must   tal. 
they'll   smash  up  1  r  in  no  time,  and 

shall  have  to  retreat  up  then  .     Put  the 
on  the  stan  we  may  hai  1  1  ;ish 

for  it  if  they  set  fire  to  the  plai 

His  orders  were  promptly  carried  out,  while 
Herr  Brunger  hastily  patched  the  dan 
and  had  hardly  finished  his  task  when  tl 
was  splintered  by  a  blow  from  an  .1 

Four  of  the  party  rushed  upstairs  to  fire  down 
on  the  assailants  ;  while  Stewart  and    Houillon, 
each   armed    with   a    pair   of   revolvers   and    a 
Chinese  sword,  waited  downstairs.      Both 
fine  fighters,  and  Houillon  had  passed  as  01 
the    best  blades  in   his  regiment.      They    waited 
for  the  Chinamen  to  get  in,  and  meanwhile  I 
constantly    through    the    broken    door.       Their 
comrades  upstairs  were  shooting    rapidly.      Pr< 
sently  the  door  1  ame  down  with  a  crash,  and  in 
a  moment  the  Chinamen  poured  in  and  the  two 
were, fighting   furiously,  steel    gritting    on 
C(  mtinually. 

Suddenly  the  great  pressure  from  in  front  • 


I 


^ 


#f& 


464 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


stopped  by  the  deadly  roll  of  the  Gatling,  which 
was  being  fired  downwards  by  the  party  upstairs. 
Those  who  did  not  fall  before  the  leaden  hail 
ran  away,  and  five  were  left  in  the  hall  killed  or 
wounded.  As  the  last  man  fell  Stewart  yelled  : 
"Quick  !  Take  weapons  and  plenty  of  ammuni- 
tion and  get  ready  for  a  bolt.  We  must  run  the 
gauntlet ;  the  place  is  untenable." 

In  a  few  moments  they  were  ready,  and  then, 
stealing  quietly  out  at  the  back  of  the  house, 
they  skulked  along  the  road  for  a  hundred  yards 
under  cover  of  the  trees  and  bushes,  expecting 
every  moment  to  be  seen.  Fortunately,  how- 
ever, they  were  not  observed,  and  mounting 
their  machines  they  flew  like  the  wind. 

Once  on  the  road  they  were  soon  perceived 
and  as  quickly  pursued,  the  Boxers  running 
across  the  fields  to  cut  them  off.  In  a  few 
minutes  it  became  apparent  that  flight  was  im- 
possible, and  so  the  little  band  dismounted  and 
prepared  to  sell  their  lives  as  dearly  as  possible. 


rilE    DRAGON    MANDARIN  !      YELLED   THE    DOXERS. 


The  Celestials  came  pouring  out  of  the  bushes 
and  soon  surrounded  the  cyclists.  They  were 
about  thirty  in  number,  but  did  not  come  in 
close,  except  now  and  then  when  they  made  a 
rush,  for  the  raking  fire  from  the  revolvers  was 
not  to  their  taste. 

Presently,  however,  inspired  by  their  leaders, 
they  got  bolder  and  pressed  home  fiercely. 
M.  Loup  was  stunned  by  a  blow,  and  things 
were  beginning  to  go  the  wrong  way  with  the 
little  party  when  they  heard  a  heavy  thumping 
on  the  road  and,  as  the  noise  came  nearer,  the 
jingling  of  swords  and  accoutrements. 

"  The  Dragon  mandarin  !  "  yelled  the  Boxers, 
as  forty  horsemen,  led  by  a  giant  youth,  fell  on 
them  like  a  thunderbolt. 

Seeing  help  at  hand,  Houillon  and  Stewart, 
their  soldier  blood  now  fully  up,  flew  into  the 
fight  as  well.     Ten  minutes  later  the  few  sur- 
vivors of  the  Boxer  band  were  running  in  all 
directions,  closely   followed  by  the  mandarin's 
men.     The  ground  was  littered 
with  bodies,  and  five  prisoners 
lay  bound  by  the  roadside. 

"  You  were  nearly  devoured 
by  these  hungry  hounds,"  said 
the  young  mandarin.  "  I  have 
hunted  them  relentlessly  because 
of  their  depredations.  Are  you 
hurt  ?  I  see  your  clothes  are 
torn." 

"  No  ;  we  are  not  hurt," 
replied  Stewart,  "  but  one  of  our 
friends  was  stunned  by  a  blow 
from  the  broken  haft  of  an  axe." 
The  others  now  came  up  and 
thanked  the  mandarin  for  his 
timely  help. 

"Oh,  I  only  did  my  duty," 
he  said,  "and  if  I  can  do  any- 
thing for  you  I  shall  be  pleased." 
"  Then  tell  us  if  the  country 
is  safe  farther  on,  and  if  not 
give  us  a  few  guards,"  said  Mr. 
Brunger. 

"There  is  no  need  now  that 
you  are  on  my  territory,"  replied 
the  official,  "  for  I  have  wiped 
out  all  such  vermin." 

After  a  few  more  remarks 
the  cyclists  took  leave  of  their 
rescuer,  who  stopped  behind  to 
collect  his  men  and  to  execute 
the  wretched  prisoners. 

The  road  was  now  less  sandy, 
and  the  machines  went  well  for 
nearly  four  miles.  They  crossed 
a  river  on  a  ferry-boat,  and  then 
toiled  on  again,  for  the  wheels 


SIX    CYCLISTS    AMONG    THE    "BOXERS.' 


465 


I' rout  a] 


lilt    SIX   CYCLISTS   CKOSSING    A    Kl\btt   ON    A    I- liKKY-BOAT. 


began  to  sink  into  sand  once  more,  and  they 
had  to  stop  every  thirty  yards  or  so  to  get  their 
wind.  When  night  fell,  instead  of  reaching 
Pekin  as  they  had  hoped,  they  found  themselves, 
at  eight  o'clock,  still  about  thirty  miles  from 
their  goal.  Arrived  at  a  hamlet,  they  halted  out- 
side the  Chinese  equivalent  of  an  inn  and  told 
the  owner  they  wished  to  put  up  there. 

"  You  can't  come  in,"  he  replied,  bluntly. 

"  Why  not?  "  asked  M.  Melgard.  "  Do  you 
think  we  are  smuggling  whisky  ?  That  trick 
won't  wash  ! " 

"  No  ;  you    are   robbers,"    replied   the   polite 
Celestial,    "and  the    Dragon   mandarins   would 
cut    off    our    noses    if    we    gave    you    shelter. 
Look  !       You      are      armed      with 
knives    and      swords,    all    covered 
with    blood,    and    your  clothes    are 
all  torn." 

"  That's  because  we  were  attacked 
and  your  mandarin  rescued  us," 
said  Stewart. 

But  the  Chinaman  refused  to 
believe  such  a  tale. 

"  Look  here,"  said  Melgard, 
menacingly,  "give  us  a  room  or  we 
will  cut  your  pigtail  off  !  " 

The  man,  frightened  at  the  threat, 
immediately  opened  the  door,  and 
they  spent  the  night  in  the  tumble- 
down place.  Poor  Loup  met  with 
a  dreadful  adventure.  He  heard 
a  fearsome  rattling  in  the  middle 
of  the  night,  and  opening  his  eyes 
saw  by   the  door  a  tall  figure  with 


an    awful    face,    Carrying   a    s\v<»nl    in 
his  hand. 

The  terrified  Swiss  let  oul 
like  a   Red   Indian,  whi<  li  woke  tin 
others  up  immediately. 

He  had  a  bad  quart  r  of  an  hour 
after    that,    for    tl  inspii 

apparition   Ik-  had   seen  turned  oul 
to  lie  nothing  more  than  a  blanket 
hung    to  a    hook   on    the 
which  were  suspended  an  old  sword 
and  a  Boxer  mask. 

The  party  l(  ft  early  the  next 
morning,  not  very  refreshed,  and 
aching  from  their  exertions  o|  the 
previous  day.  The  thirty  miles  to 
the  capital,  however,  were  soon 
covered,  and  they  made  a  sensa 
tional  entry  into  Pekin,  passing 
through  the  gates  amid  the  yells  of  wonder  ol 
the  inhabitants,  for  they  were  apparently  the 
first  cyclists  who  had  ever  entered  the  Imperial 
city. 

"  Ho-ya-hoi  !"  ("Come,  have  a  look  '. ")  yelled 
the  people,  and  the  police,  thinking  a  street  row 
was  in  progress,  came  hurrying  up  to  quell  the 
riot. 

The  travellers  were  heartily  welcomed  by  thi 
European  residents  of  the  city,  and  after  resting 
for  a  day  went  back  to  Tien-Tsin  by  rail. 

I   do  not   think,   however,  that  any  of  thi 
would  care  to  make  the   trip   under  similar  eir- 
cumstances  again.     For  a  cycling   tour  it   \ 
perhaps,  just  a  little  too  exciting. 


[Photo. 


IN    THI  i'ElvI.N. 


Vol.  xi\ 


59. 


vSlrv\nb 


An   amusing   contribution    to  the    eternal  "  servant  question."     Mrs.  Maitland  has  spent  thirty 
vears  in   France,  and  here  describes  some  of  her  tragicomic  experiences  with  French  domestics, 

who    have    sundry   little   peculiarities   of    their    own. 


Y  life  for  the  last  thirty  years  has 
been  spent,  with  brief  intervals, 
entirely  in  France,  and,  although 
friends  in  England  have  congratu- 
lated me  on  living  in  a  country 
where  there  is  no  "servant  question,"  yet  my 
adventures  with  my  domestics  have  been  many 
and  peculiar. 

There  is  no  "servant  question"  here  in 
France  because  neither  Frenchmen  nor  French- 
women have  the  dislike  of  domesticity  that 
English  people  have,  and  also,  perhaps,  because 
I'rench  servants  are  not  considered  to  be  in  any 
way  interior  to  their  masters  and  mistresses,  nor 
do  they  consider  themselves  so.  It  is  a  little 
difficult,  indeed,  to  inspire  your  French 
domestics  with  the  conviction  that  they  are 
not  paid  friends  of  the  family.  They  have 
a  knack  of  what  my  American  daughter-in- 
law  calls  "  chipping-in  "  to  dinner-table  con- 
versations, and  when  you  tell  them  to  do 
something  they  deem  inexpedient  will  argue  the 
point  hotly.  I  remember  being  an  hour  late 
for  a  ball  at  the  Embassy  in  my  younger  days, 
because  my  maid — Eugenie,  her  name  was— 
wanted  me  to  wear  an  aigrette  in  my  hair  instead 
of  a  tiara.  During  the  argument  she  took  my 
hair  down,  and  refused  point-blank  to  do  it 
up  again  until  I  had  agreed  to  wear  it  as  she 
wished  ! 


"  Madame,  perhaps,  will  now  agree  that  I 
hava  more  the  sense  of  what  is  fitting  in  the 
artistic  disposal  of  madame  than  has  madame 
herself,"  said  Eugenie,  with  dignity. 

Of  course,  an  English  maid,  however  good, 
would  have  been  dismissed  for  such  a  piece  of 
obstinacy,  because  one  would  have  felt  that 
after  its  success  she  would  become  insufferably 
self-assertive.  But  there  was  no  fear  of  any 
such  thing  with  Eugenie,  and  as  she  explained 
apologetically  next  morning,  when  she  brought 
in  my  morning  chocolate  and  I  had  told  her  of 
the  compliments  the  dressing  of  my  hair  had 
brought  me,  "  I  was  extremely  sorry  to  speak  to 
madame  in  just  the  tone  I  used,  but  it  was 
necessary  for  madame's  own  good.  I  am  the 
artist  of  madame's  appearance,  after  all."  You 
couldn't  be  angry  with  a  woman  like  that,  could 
you  ?  And  in  one  sense  she  was  right,  for  she 
certainly  was  an  artist  to  her  finger-tips. 

But  nobody  who  has  not  lived  well  away  in 
the  provinces  in  France,  in  the  heart  of  the 
country — where  the  nearest  town  is  twenty  miles 
away  and  is  only  about  the  size  of  a  big  English 
village  when  you  have  reached  it — has  any  idea 
of  what  the  "  servant  question  "  in  its  French 
form   may  become." 

I  can  remember  (it  would  be  more  correct, 
perhaps,  to  say  that  it  would  be  difficult  for  me 
to  forget)  a  year  which  I  spent  in  the  heart  of 


MY    FREN(  II    SERVANTS. 


|67 


Normandy,  when  my  husband  and  I  were  young 
married  people,  and  were  economizing  while  he 
waited  for  an  appointment.  The  Normandy 
peasantry  are  anything  but  stupid,  out  their 
ignorance  is  absolutely  astounding.  Added  to 
this,  they  have  a  code  of  politeness  all  their 
own,  and  a  natural  distaste  for  giving  a  straight 
answer  to  a  straight  question.  We  used  to 
amuse  ourselves  on  our  first  arrival  by  asking 
Martin  and  his  wife  Felicie  all  sorts  of  point- 
blank  questions,  for  the  mere  pleasure  of  seeing 
the  way  that  they  would  wriggle  out  of  them. 
"Is  there  any  need  for  the  charrette  anglaise  (a 
low  dog-cart)  this  morning,  Martin?  Can  I 
take  madame  out  in  it  until  lunch-time?" 
"  Perhaps  there  is,  and  perhaps  there  isn't," 
Martin  would  say,  thoughtfully;  and  if  we  used 
the  cart  we  might  be  certain  that  he  would 
complain  afterwards  that  he  had  wanted  it  to 
fetch  something,  and  we  should  have  to  go  with- 
out that  something  because  we  had  used  it.  If, 
on  the  other  hand,  we  didn't  use  it,  neither  the 
cart  nor  Victorine,  the  dappled  grey  mare,  would 
move  out  all  day,  to  our  intense  annoyance. 

But  during  our  year's  residence  in  the  country 
it  was  the  politeness  of  our  servants  which  gave 
us  the  most  trouble.  On  no  account  would 
they  put  us  right  when  we  did  wrong,  but  in 
their  heart  of  hearts  they  looked  upon  us  as 
poor  heretics  who  didn't  know  things,  and  who 
must  be  looked  after  in  spite  of  ourselves.  I 
remember  one  Friday  having  three  or  four 
friends  down  from  Paris.  We  had  not  been  at 
Les  Tilleuls  very  long,  and  I  had  hitherto 
allowed  Felicie  an  absolutely  free  hand  as  to 
meals — which,  by  the  way,  she  understood 
exceedingly  well  in  her  own  homely  fashion. 
But  as  we  had  friends  coming  I  wanted  things 
to  be  particularly  nice,  and  gave  Felicie  my 
menu. 

We  got  back  from  the  station  barely  in  time 
to  tidy  up  for  dinner,  and  when  we  reached  the 
table  both  our  friends  and  ourselves  were 
hungry  and  were  glad  when  the  hors-d\vuvres 
were  carried  off,  for  the  inner  man  craved  some- 
thing more  substantial  after  our  drive.  The 
something  more  substantial  did  not  come,  how 
ever.  I  nodded  and  frowned  at  Felicie  and 
Martin,  but  both  of  them  stood  waiting  patiently 
as  though  they  expected  the  rest  of  the  dinner 
to  come  in  by  itself.  "  Felicie,"  I  said,  at  last, 
finding  that  nods  and  signs  were  useless— 
"  Felicie,  the  fowls." 

Felicie  looked  at  Martin  and  Martin  at 
Felicie,  and  then  both  of  them  looked  at  me. 

"  Is  it  the  fowls  ?  "  they  said,  together. 

"Yes,"  I  said  ;  "be  quick." 

Martin  grew  very  red  and  nudged  his  wife, 
and  Felicie   grew  redder   still   and  nudged  him 


back.     I   begged   my  guests  ne,  and 

hurried  out   into  the  kitchen,  where  there  had 
evidently  b<  .   I  thought,     but 

there  had  been   no  catastrophe,  onli 
no  fowls.     Furiously  angry,  as  at 
keeper  would   have   been,   I  Martin 

and    Felicie   for  an   explanation.     "Wh< 
the  fowls?"  I   said,  "and   whi  joint?" 

for  as  a  treat    both    to  ourselves   and    to 
English  guests,  who  had  been  living  on  .<  I  r<  nch 
hotel  diet  for  some  weeks,  and  would,  1   ki 
appreciate  it,  I  had  resolvi  a  joint 

of  roast  beef  as  Normandy  could  produi 

Neither    Martin    nor    Felicie    would    ansm 
She  stood  there  rolling  the  <  orn<  r  of  her  apron 
and  looking  as  though  she  would   like  to  1 
and   Martin  stood  beside  her,  stolidly  counting 
the    buttons   on    his    waistcoat.       My   husband 
talked  more  French   than   I,  and    I    went   ! 
and  called  him  out.     Me  it  was  who,  after  much 
vain  effort,  finally  extracted   the  reason  for  the 
dinner's  non-appearance.      It  was  a  Friday,  and 
Martin    and     Felicie    would    not    allow    us    to 
imperil  our  immortal  souls  by  eating  meat  on 
that  day  of  the  week  ;  while,  on  the  other  hand, 
as  I  had  not  thought  of  ordering  fish — and  this 
was  not  obtainable  any  nearer  than   Octeville, 
nine    or   ten    miles   away — there  was    no    fish  ! 
That  evening  we  dined  off  Martin  ami   Feli' 
own  dinner  of  potatoes,  peas,  and  cream,  and 
very  good  the  dinner  was,  served  with  the  sain 
our  hunger  gave   it,   while   Martin   and    Felicie 
feasted  upon  bread  and  cheese. 

When  a   French   servant  doesn't   understand 
just  what  you  mean,  or  does  not  see  the  usi 
something  you  have  ordered,  she  quite  refusi  s 
to  accept  it  upon  trust.     As  a  ru  will  try 

to  explain  it  to  her  own  satisfai  the 

mistakes  she  will  make,  rather  than  ask  for  in 
formation,  are  delightful.  I  have  said  "  she.' 
but  the  same  thing  applies  in  an  even  n 
vivid  form  to  the  male  domestic,  who,  lord  1  I 
creation  that  he  is,  would  scorn  to  ask  for  1  \ 
planations  of  a  mere  female  and  a  fop 
female  at  that. 

1  rememberat  my  first  dinner-party  on 
amusing  incident.      I  had  ordered  the   fit 
I iow Is   to    haw   warm   water  and  a   tin) 
lemon  in  them.     As  I  gave  the  ordei   I 
an  exchange  of  glances  between    Baptist 
Marie.       I    hardly   know  why.   but  th 
saw  made  me  think  something   might 
and.   knowing  that    I   should  nol 
questioning  them.  I  de<  ided  to  : 
en  petit,  and  told  them  !: 
glasses,    prepared     as    I     had 
luncheon  table.     I  must  I 
glass  had    arrived    fron 
dined  at  home.      When,  at  tl 


468 


THE    WIDE     WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


Baptiste  solemnly  appeared  with  the  ten  finger- 
glasses  on  a  silver  tray  and  set  them  down 
beside  us,  it  was  all  we  could  do  to  keep  a 
serious  face.  After  some  confabulation  he  and 
Marie  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  hot 
lemonade  was  what  we  wanted,  and  lemonade 
he  had  accordingly  brought  ! 

1  explained  that  for  our  guests  hot  water  with 


by  a  girl  who  had  been  recommended  to  me  as 
particularly  bright  by  a  friend  in  the  country. 
1  sent  her  out  to  buy  some  postage-stamps,  and 
after  two  hours  she  returned  to  ask  me  where 
she  ought  to  go  for  them  !  Postage-stamps,  it 
appeared,  in  the  part  of  the  world  from  which 
she  had  come,  were  got  by  favour  from  one 
tradesman    or    another,   or    from    the    postman 


a  slice  of  lemon  would  suffice,  and  forgot  all 
about  the  incident.  After  dessert  next  evening, 
however,  I  was  anything  but  gratified  at  a  titter 
which  ran  round  the  table  as  the  finger-glasses 
were  put  on.  They  looked  all  right,  and  I  was 
wondering  what  could  possibly  be  wrong,  when 
I  heard  Baptiste  whisper  confidingly  to  the 
man  beside  me,  "  Don't  drink  the  lemonade, 
monsieur  ;  it  isn't  good  !  " 

In  spite  of  the  undoubted  intelligence  of  the 
French  bourgeois  class,  and  the  natural  gifts  of 
educated  French  men  and  women,  there  is  no 
doubt  that  the  uneducated  classes  are  intensely 
stupid,  far  more  so  than  our  own  lower  classes. 
Stupid  is,  perhaps,  not  exactly  the  word  to  use, 
but  ignorant  they  are,  and  that  to  quite  an 
extraordinary  extent.  I  have  often  had  servants 
who  could  neither  read  nor  write.  I  have  never 
had  one  who  could  spell  properly,  and  some- 
times the  most  extraordinary  questions  have 
been  asked  me.     One  of  the  oddest  was  asked 


NEITHER    MAUTIN    NOR    FELICIE    WOULD    ANSWER. 

when  he  came.     Such  a  thing  as  a  post- 
office  was  outside  her  range. 

It  is,  however,  when  she  starts 
housekeeping  in  Paris  that  the  young 
English  -  woman  finds  how  difficult 
housekeeping  may  be.  At  first,  after  we 
left  the  country,  my  husband  and  I  lived  in 
an  hotel,  but  after  a  month  or  two  of  this  we 
became  very  tired  of  it,  and  resolved  to  take  a 
small  furnished  flat.  A  bachelor  friend  of  my 
husband's,  a  Frenchman,  lived  in  this  way,  and 
had  so  vaunted  the  delights  of  a  femme  de 
mknage  that  we  resolved  to  try  one. 

"  I  must  plead  ignorance,"  I  said.  "  Femme 
de  menage  means  woman  of  the  household,  does 
it  not  ?     Is  that  a  charwoman  ?  " 

"  Yes  and  no,"  was  the  reply.  "You  pay  her 
by  the  hour,  by  the  day,  or  by  the  month,  and 
her  peculiarity  is  that  she  is  invariably  there 
when  you  don't  want  her,  keeps  your  flat  spot- 
lessly clean,  is  very  indignant  at  the  number  of 
plates  you  dirty  when  she  is  not  there  to  see  you 
do  it,  and  acquaints  the  entire  neighbourhood 
with  your  peculiar  mode  of  living." 

We^got  rid  of  Mme.  Menage  at  last  because 
my  husband  found  that  we  had  begun  to  attract 


MY    FRENCH    SERVANTS. 


too  much  attention"  in  the  neighbourhood.  Her 
duties  ended  early  in  the  afternoon,  and  we  did 
not  see  her  again  until  the  following  morning, 
when  her  first  work  was  to  prepare  our  baths. 
The  necessity  for  a  bath  every  morning  was  to 
her  mind  something  which  needed  explanation, 
and,  being  a  lady  of  imaginative  powers,  she 
wove  a  whole  romance  about  the  fact  and  told  it 
to  the  neighbours,  until  it  was  impossible  to  pass 


French  people,  too,  have  a 
saying    anything     which     may 
trouble,    and    therefore,    even 
former  employers,  they  will,  as 
tell  you  of  a  servant's  faults. 

When  we  took  our  first  flat  i 
the    wretched    cupboards    up 
which  were  let  with  the  flat  and 
name   of    servants'   bedrooms 


469 

great  dislike  of 
them    into 
when    you 
a   rule,  omit  to 

iid  saw 
untler    tl 
dignified  by  the 
I   resolved  that 


fili^^lll 


'  SHE    TOLD    IT   TO   THE    NEIGHBOUR. 


our  concierge  without  hearing  whispers  of  fearful 
import.  I  have  no  doubt  whatever  that  some  of 
Mme.  Menage's  thrilling  stories  of  our  mysterious 
doings  between  the  early  afternoon  and  bedtime 
eventually  found  their  way  to  the  ears  of  the 
police. 

Soon  afterwards  we  definitely  settled  down  in 
Paris,  moved  into  a  larger  flat,  and  set  about 
engaging  two  servants,  cook  and  femme  de 
chambre.  I  found  the  French  registry  office  a 
very  different  affair  from  the  same  thing  in 
England.  The  servants  here  made  no  attempt 
to  ape  their  mistresses,  but  when  I  came  to 
examine  the  written  characters  they  showed  me  I 
found  myself  in  a  quandary.  There  is  a  curious 
French  law  which  forbids  masters  or  mistresses 
giving  bad  characters  to  the  servants  who  leave 
them,  and  in  consequence,  according  to  her 
written  certificate,  every  French  servant  is  a 
veritable  treasure. 


our  cook  and  femme  de  chambre  should  sleep  in 
the  flat  with  us,  and  set  aside  a  room  for  them 
for  that  purpose.  But  what  I  had  imagined  to 
be  a  favour  and  a  kindness  to  the  girls  was  not 
received  as  such  by  any  means,  and  one  evening, 
on  our  return  from  the  theatre,  when  my 
husband  had  left  his  key  at  home  and  we  1 
for  admittance,  we  found  that  neither  cook  n<>i 
maid  was  in.     This  led  to  ii  ations,  and 

we  found,  to  our  amused  surprise,  that  tl 
in   the  habit  of    camping    out    in    the 
preferring  this  liberty  to  creal 

To  tell  you  all  the  troubles  I  have  had  with 
my  servants   would   require    a    full  ' 
versation,   and  the 

various   misdemeanours    would    fill    a    volui 
Drunkenness  is  rare  among  Freri  ind, 

being  so,  it  is  a  curious  fact  that  drunkenness  in 
servants   is,  perhaps,  mori  !   than   in 

other  stratum^  ty.     One  of  our  maids  had 


47° 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


the  complaint.  We  found  it  out  one  evening 
when  she  upset  a  little  Empire  cabinet  upon 
herself,  and  in  three  minutes  managed  to 
destroy  over  a  hundred  pounds'  worth  of  old 
china.  She  was  sent  about  her  business  there 
and  then,  and  for  a  fortnight  afterwards  bills 
simply  poured  in  from  every  wine  and  spirit 
merchant  in  the  neighbourhood. 

We  found  half  emptied  bottles  of  cognac  and 
rum  in  all  sorts  of  odd  corners  of  the  flat,  and 
when  the  new  girl  came  and  took  possession  of 
her  predecessor's  sixth-floor  kingdom  she  found 
four  empty  bottles  and  two  nearly  full  ones  of 
Jamaica  rum  hidden  in  the  recesses  of  the  bed  ! 

It  is  a  little  difficult  at  first  for  English  folk  in 
fiance  to  realize  that  menial  service  does  not 
imply  servitude.  Your  English  servant  looks 
upon  herself  as  of  a  lower  class  than  are  her 
mistresses  and  masters,  and  when  she  ceases  so 
to  do  she  either  becomes  impudent  or  gives  up 
service.  In  France  this  is  not  so.  Any  French 
servant  will,  if  she  considers 
herself  unjustly  reprimanded, 
answer  back  and  argue,  and 
such  answering  back  and  argu- 
ment are  not  considered 
grounds  for  dismissal.  The 
law  and  both  mistresses  and 
servants  look  upon  servants 
as  employees,  who 
receive  wages, 
bed,  and  board  for 
work  done,  a  busi- 
ness arrangement 
which  implies  no 
lower  caste,  and  I 
am     not     certain 


that  the  system  is  not  a  good  one.  I  rather 
believe,  too,  in  the  sixth-floor  rooms  for  servants, 
although  these  might  be  made  more  comfort- 
able. I  am  inclined  to  think  that  if  some 
such  solution  could  be  found  in  England,  if 
servants  could  live  out  and  have  a  reasonable 
amount  of  freedom  when  their  day's  work  is 
over,  we  should  hear  less  about  the  eternal 
"  servant  question  "  than  we  do. 

In  Fiance  this  trouble,  as  I  have  said,  hardly 
exists  at  all.  When  women  meet  they,  of 
course,  compare  notes  and  troubles  ;  but,  taken 
all  in  all,  service  is  better  done  in  Paris  than  in 
London.  The  smart  Parisian  maid  is  not 
always  entirely  honest,  the  smart  Parisian  cook 
is  rarely  so  ;  but  French  housekeepers  add  a 
certain  percentage  for  what  I  may  call  "  admis- 
sible dishonesty "  to  the  household  expenses, 
and  one  gets  used  to  it.  After  all,  the  dif- 
ference is  not  so  great  between  the  sou  in  every 
franc  which  Paris  tradesmen  give  your  cook  and 

the  "Christmas- 
box  "  which  most 
tradespeople  give 
your  cook  in 
England.  My 
own  experience  is 
that  good  mis- 
tresses make  good 
servants,  and  that 
it  is  from  the 
bad  ones  —  in 
France  as  in  every 
other  country — 
that  we  hear  the 
a  w  f u 1  tales  of 
domestic  trouble. 


"  SHE    UPSET   A    LITTLE    EMPIRE   CABINET    UPON    HERSELF. 


An  Anglo-American  Expedition  in  Abyssinia. 


By  Frederick  W.   1.  mi  i  i 


Being  some  incidents  of  an  interesting  trip  in  Menelik's  domains  made  by  Lord  Hindlip    and  Mr. 
W.  Fitzhugh  Whitehouse.     Illustrated  with  Lord  Hindlip's  own  photographs. 


NE  February  morning  Lord  Hindlip 
left  Victoria  by  the  eleven  o'clock 
boat  express  on  a  sporting  trip  in 
Abyssinia.  At  Paris  he  was  joined 
by  Mr.  William  Fitzhugh  White- 
house,  a  young  and  wealthy  American,  who  had 
already  done  some  extensive  travelling  in 
Menelik's  country.  Together  the  two  travellers 
proceeded  to  Marseilles,  where  they  embarked  on 
a  P.  and  O.  steamer,  and  ten  days  later  reached 
Aden.  There  some  time  was  occupied  in 
collecting  stores,  engaging  boys,  and  in  paying 
calls  on  officials,  and  then,  after  a  few  hours' 
delay,  they  left  for  Zeila  on  board  the  British 
mail-boat  Woodcock,  reaching  that  port  at  nine 
the  next  morning.  The  tide  was  so  low  that 
the  ship's  gig  was  unable  to  land  the  passengers, 
who  had  to  be  carried  ashore  in  chairs. 


Armenians— the  caravan   was    started   off    into 
the  interior  under  the  escort  of  two  native  poli<  e, 
with  instructions  to  await  its  leaders  at  the  h< 
of  the  railway,  which  was  then  at  Adigalla,  >  ighl 
days'   march   in  the  interior,  to  which   plao 
was  the  intention  of  the  white  men    to  proc 
by  train  from  the  terminus  at  Djibutil. 

Meanwhile,  the  two  Europeans,  who  had  n 
been  joined    by    Dr.    Bell,    as    medical 
sailed  along  the  coast  to   Djibutil,  the  French 
port,  some  five  hours  distant,  and   the  star! 
place  of  the  railway  which  the  French  engin 
were  pushing  with  all  speed  in  the  direction  ol 
Menelik's  capital. 

Lord  Hindlip  describes  Djibutil  as  a  badly- 
organized  and  mismanaged  town,  consisting  >>t 
stores  and  peopled  chiefly  by  officials.  Its  trade 
is    very    small,    and    is   generally    more   or   less 


From  a 


MALI    ••  i;i  GGALOWS"    RACI 


The  first  photo,  was  taken  from  the  deck  of 
the  Woodcock,  and  shows  the  exciting  race 
which  always  takes  place  between  the  Somali 
"buggalows,"  or  trading  boats,  in  their  endeavour 
to  first  reach  the  steamer  and  sell  their 
merchandise  to  the  new  arrivals.  From  Zeila 
a  miserable  hole,  inhabited  by  two  thousand 
Somalis    with    a     sprinkling     of    Greeks     and 


disorganized.      Arms    and    ammunil 

ely  among  the  imporl 
admitted,  and  find  their  way  up 
Somaliland,  and    up    to  nikul    i 

The  Mullah  undoubtedly  got  n 
like  supplies  through  this  i  hannel. 

A  lew  days  later  the  travel 
the    seven-thii 


472 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


not  proceeded  far  before  gazelle  were  spotted 
quite  close  to  the  line,  whereupon  the  engine 
was  stopped,  while  passengers,  drivers,  and 
everybody  shot  at  the  game  through  the  windows 
of  the  carriages. 

The   railway,    which   at    this    time   was    one 


as   many  white  officials  as    there   were  on  the 
Uganda  railway. 

For  some  distance  from  the  coast  the  line  is 
well  constructed,  and  there  are  fine  bridges,  but 
beyond  the  section  referred  to  quality  is  being 
sacrificed   to   speed.       Every   other   day    a    fast 


THE    DJIBUT1L   EXI'RESS- 

From  a] 


-SHORTLY    AKTER    STARTING    A    BAND    OF    GAZELLE    WERE    SEEN,    WHEREUPON    THE   TRAIN    WAS   STOPPED 


WHILE   EVERYONE   JOINED    IN   THE    HUNT  ! 


[Photo. 


hundred  and  fifty  miles  long — half  in  French 
and  the  rest  in  Abyssinian  territory — runs 
through  a  very  poor  country.  During  a  halt 
for  lunch  near  the  frontier  Lord  Hindlip  took  a 
snap-shot  of  the  fine  engine,  which  seemed  so 
entirely  out  of  character  with  the  bare  and  wild 
African  landscape.  During  the  journey  a  Somali 
was  found  on  the  line  with  a  badly-  crushed 
arm.  He  was  taken  aboard  and  next  day 
dispatched  to  the  coast  for  the  amputation  of 
the  limb.  The  line,  which  is  intended  to  tap 
the  rich  province  of  Harrar  and  divert  all  the 
trade  to  the  French  route,  is  making  phenomenal 
progress,  it  being  the  desire  of  the  French 
engineers  to  get  the  line  completed  with  all 
speed.  Evidence  of  this  was  to  be  found  in 
the  fact  that  when  the  expedition  some  five 
months  later  again  struck  the  railway  on  the 
return  journey  the  railhead  was  then  at  Harrawa, 
some  sixty  miles  farther  in  the  interior. 

The  greatest  activity  was  being  observed,  and 
shiploads  of  rails,  cars,  etc.,  were  constantly 
arriving  at  Djibutil.  The  rails  were  being  taken 
up  in  sections,  completely  riveted  to  the 
sleepers.  The  line,  which  is  eventually  to  go  to 
the  Abyssinian  capital,  has  been  surveyed  right 
through,  and  will  shortly  reach  a  point  north  of 
Harrar.  It  is  not  intended  to  connect  with 
Harrar  itself,  but  a  transport  road  between  that 
town  and  the  railway  was  being  constructed. 
Immense  gangs  of  labourers  were  working  all 
along  the  line,  and  there  were  at  least  three  times 


train  runs  between  Djibutil  and  Adigalla.  The 
journey  is  not  altogether  an  uneventful  one,  for 
now  and  again  the  train  has  to  be  brought  to  a 
standstill  before  it  can  negotiate  the  gradients. 
Once  it  stopped  while  the  driver  and  guard 
leisurely  descended  and  placed  stones  on  the 
line  in  order  to  give  the  wheels  the  necessary 
grip.  The  jolting  was  at  times  almost  past  endur- 
ance, and  during  each  trip  all  nuts  and  bolts  had 
to  be  tightened  three  or  four  times.  While  going 
round  a  curve  a  man  who  was  sitting  with  his 
legs  dangling  out  of  a  waggon  door  was  precipi- 
tated on  to  the  line,  but  by  some  lucky  chance 
escaped  unhurt  except  for  a  gashed  forehead. 
One  of  the  things  which'  most  struck  the 
travellers  was  the  "  toughness  "  of  the  French 
railway  employes,  who  fearlessly  go  out  into  the 
fierce  African  sun  and  seem  none  the  worse. 
The  station-master  at  the  terminus  of  Adigalla, 
by  the  way,  was  an  Italian  count. 

From  the  railhead  the  expedition  proceeded 
to  Gildessa,  which  was  reached  after  six  hours' 
hard  marching  over  very  hilly  and  stony 
country.  Soon  after  camp  was  formed  the 
local  governor,  or  Shum,  escorted  by  a  number 
of  troops  headed  by  a  standard-bearer,  visited 
the  strangers.  Though  not  prepossessing  in 
appearance,  he  was  intelligent  and  friendly,  and 
seemed  to  much  appreciate  a  whisky  and 
"  sparklet  "  which  was  offered  to  him.  At  Gildessa 
the  expedition  came  to  the  first  armed  post  in 
Abyssinian   territory,   and   before  this  could  he 


AN    ANGLO-AMERICAN     EXPEDITION     IN'    AB  [A. 


From  a 


A    CAMP    OK    THE    EXPEDITION    IN    THE    DAN1KUI.   COUNTRY/ 


passed  permission  had  to  be  obtained  from  the 
capital.     This   necessitated  a  detention   of  two 
days.     When  permission  was  received  the  jour- 
ney was  continued.     In  due  course  the  Gugurra 
country  was  reached,  and  for  a  time  some   un- 
easiness prevailed  in  consequence  of  the  attitude 
of  the  people,  of  whom  the  porters  and   camel- 
men  were  very  frightened.    The  natives  attached 
to  the  caravan  became  so  nervous  regarding  the 
close    proximity     of     these    people     that    the 
travellers  thought   it  well  to  build  a  zareba  at 
night  for  protec- 
tion, but  this  pre- 
caution     proved 
quite    unneces- 
sary.    The  above 
photograph 
shows  the  camp 
in    the    Danikul 
country. 

Near  here  the 
explorers  had  a 
good  deal  of 
trouble  with  a 
chief  named 
Tambaca,  who 
did  his  best  to 
delay  the  expedi- 
tion and  to  place 
difficulties  in  the 
way  of  getting 
camels,  etc.  The 
old  man  while  in 
the  camp  com- 
plained of  pain 
in    the    stomach, 

Vol.  \i\.  -  60 


but 

which     su  itly 

by  bl  1 

Hind  lip 
the  '  I. 
villain 

with  a  hook  nos<  and 

1 1  rot  nidi : 
lip.     I  b   is,  Iio.m ■-. 
a  man  of  much  influ- 
ent ■  .  and  only  a  w< 
or  two   before  the 
arrival  of  tl  van 

collected    two    thou- 
sand   mounted    men 
for    the    purp 
raiding  an  adjoining 
-    mali  trih 
It  was  with  a  s< 
of  relief  that  the  travellers  turned   their  ba 
on  this  part  of  the  country,  but  a  strict  watch 
was  kept  until  the  whole  caravan   was  clear  of 
the  district.      During  the  march  the  Gallas  and 
other   tribes  through  whose  territory  the  route 
lay  evinced  much  interest  in  the  movements  of 
the   travellers,    and   the    next    picture    shows  a 
group  of  natives  who  came  down  to  the  cam]) 
to  be  photographed. 

There  was  a  considerable  amount   of   traffic 
on  the  road  between   Gildessa  and  the  capital, 


l  I'll, I  to. 


/•  rom 


474 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


believers  in 
and    it   will 


the 
be 


A    NATIVE 


.MOVING     — EVERYTHING,  INCLUDING  THE  HOUSE, 

From  a  Photo. 


this  including  large  quantities  of  ammunition  on 
its  way  to  Menelik's  arsenal.  The  belongings  of 
some  of  the  tribes  are  but  scanty,  and  their 
"household  removals  "are  of  the  most  primitive 
description.  Eord  Hindlip  took  a  number  of 
photographs  of  a  tribe  "  moving,"  and  the 
picture  we  reproduce  above  shows  the  head 
camelman    of   the   expedition    standing   beside 


and  firm 
evil    eye, 

seen  that  the  woman 
standing  near  the  camel- 
man  has  carefully  covered 
her  head  while  facing  the 
camera. 

The  next  photograph 
shows  a  camel -changing 
station  on  the  road  to  the 
capital,  and  two  members 
of  the  expedition  taking 
observations.  The  site 
of  the  station  was  only 
marked  by  a  ridge  of 
stones,  but  a  number  of 
cases  of  merchandise  were 
found  lying  around  quite 
unprotected,  which  pre- 
sumably had  been  left  by 
some  caravan  while  en 
route  to  Adis  Ababa. 
Although  probably  con- 
taining valuable  merchandise,  they  had  remained 
quite  undisturbed.  While  much  of  the  country 
traversed  was  bare  and  open  stony  land,  there 
were  large  districts  of  jungle  and  thorn  through 
which  the  heavily-laden  porters  had  to  pick  their 
way.  The  crossing  of  swollen  rivers,  too,  was  a 
serious  and  often  slow  business.  Of  one  of  these 
experiences  Lord  Hindlip  says:  — 


THE  PATIEN1    DONKEY. 


IV 


& 


From  a\ 


A    CAMEL-CHANGING    STATION    ON    THE    KOAl>    TO    THE    CAPITAL 


[Photo. 


some  Oderali  women  who  are  removing  their 
camps.  The  ribs  of  the  native  tent  may  be 
seen  carefully  packed  with  the  household 
furniture  and  cooking  utensils  on  the  back  of  a 
donkey.      The    natives    are    very    superstitious 


"  A  bitter  rain  was  descending  in  torrents  and 
struck  very  cold  through  our  thin  shirt-sleeves. 
The  water  rushed  down  the  hillsides  like  a 
mountain  brook,  and  made  going  very  difficult 
as  we  slowly  descended  to  the   plain,  where   the 


AN    ANGLO-AMERICAN     EXPEDITION     IN    ABYSSINIA 


water  lay  over  our  boot-tops.  Soon  we  arrived 
at  a  stream  which  probably  two  days  before  had 
been  a  dry  nullah,  but  which  was  now  a  deep 
and  broad  river  with  the  waters  running  like 
a  mill-race.  Our  headman  plunged  in  and 
managed  to  get  to  the  opposite  bank  after 
being  carried  some  distance  by  the  current. 
The  other  men  followed  and  passed  over  the 
rifles  and  stores.  Finally  it  came  to  my  turn, 
and,  catching  hold  of  a  long  turban-cloth,  the 
other  end  of  which  was  held  by  the  headman, 
I  commenced  to  wade  through  the  icy  water. 
Instantly  I  was  carried  off  my  feet  and  was  up 
to  my  neck  in  water,  but  retained  my  hold  of 
the  cloth,  by  which  I  was  dragged  across  and 
eventually  landed  with  chattering  teeth  and  wet 
to  the  skin  on  the  opposite  bank.  It  was  pitch- 
dark  before  the  whole  caravan  had  crossed,  and 
it  was  with  feelings  of  relief  that  we  saw  the 
camp  light  and  turned  in  under  our  drenched 
canvas  for  a  night's  rest." 

By  the  middle  of  April  the  travellers  reached 
Tadechimulcha,  where  they  struck  the  telegraph 
line  running  between  Harrar  and  Menelik's 
capital,  and  on  the  following  day  arrived  at 
Chobe,  where  there  is  a  telephone  station  con- 
necting with  Adis  Ababa.  They  were  thus  able 
to  speak  with  Colonel  Harrington,  the  British 
Resident.  As  the  caravan  approached  the 
capital  the  roads  became  thronged  with  men, 
women,  and  children,  each  smelling  worse  than 
the  other  as  the  result  of  continually  eating  red 
pepper   and    daubing 


with 


oleaginous  sub- 


themselves 
thick 

stance.  A  multitude 
of  people  —  approxi- 
mately about  five 
thousand  —  were  also 
passed  travelling  to- 
wards the  coast  with 
Ras  Makonnen. 

Three  days  after 
leaving  Tadechi- 
mulcha Lord  Hindlip 
and  Mr.  Whitehouse 
reached  Balchi,  a 
collection  of  wattle 
huts  erected  on  a  pre- 
cipitous hill,  and  were 
regaled  with  Abys- 
sinian bread  and 
honey.  Two  days 
later,  after  some  hard 
'  marching,  they  arrived 
at  the  British  Resi- 
dency at  Adis  Ababa, 
where  they  were  cor- 
dially received   by 


Colonel    Harrington,   who  ,itai 

and  much-needed  lunch.    1  he  Bi 

is  a  new  and  commodious  bui!<:  -her 

a  series   of  buildings  -with    lar§  and 

gardens  and  a  fine  compound.     I 

in  a  number  of  circular  huts  with  that<  hed 

all   connected  by  covered  corridors.      Mu<  h 

the  wood  used  in  the  building  in.     A  few 

days    after    their    arrival     in    Adis    Ababa 

travellers  had  an  audience  of  Menelik. 

"At  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,"  said    1 
Hindlip  to  the  writer,  "  we  rode  out  to  the  ( libi, 
or  palace.     After  waiting  for  some  ten  min 
in  the  audience  chamber  we  were  conducted  to 
the    Emperor's    apartment.      His    Majesty   was 
seated  cross-legged  on  a  pile  of  cushions,  attired 
inflowing  robes  of  white  silk  and  a  black  silk 
jacket  richly  embroidered  in  gold.     On  his  h 
was  a  broad-brimmed  soft  hat.     On  entering  wi 
were    introduced    by   the    British   Vice-Consul 
through   an    interpreter   named    MacKelvie,  an 
Irishman  who  was  captured  at  Magdala  and  has 
since  become  as  Abyssinian  as  the  Abyssinians 
themselves,  and  were  accommodated  with  chairs. 
Around   Menelik    were  grouped  a    numb 
high   functionaries   in    more    or    less    gorgeous 
raiment. 

"The  Emperor  is  a  man  of  medium  height, 
with  an  intelligent,  kindly,  and  honest  face.     I  [i 
is  sixty  years  of  age,  and  his  hair  and  beard  are 
streaked  with  grey.     He  is,  too,  deeply  pitted 
with   small  -  pox.       He   was    most    affable,   and 


P)\'ll:  a\ 


THE 


476 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


b  i    in  a\ 


A    CEKEMONIAL    VISIT    TO    KIM;    MENK1.IK. 


f 


readily  agreed  to  allow  us  to  shoot  in  his 
country.  After  presenting  some  gifts  to  His 
Majesty,  we  left.  The  following  day  we  were 
invited  to  be  present  at  a  great  feast,  and  early 
in  the  morning — attired  in  evening  dress,  as 
shown  in  the  picture — we  rode  over  from  the 
Residency. 

"  After  the  usual  delay  we  were  ushered  into 
the  banqueting-room,  where  we  found  our  host 
reclining  on  his  throne,  over  which  was  spread 
a  red  velvet  canopy  eighteen  feet  square,  having 
embroidered  on  it  a  golden  '  M '  surmounted 
by  an  imperial  crown.  On  the  dais  and  to  the 
right  of  the  Emperor 
was  a  pile  of  Abys- 
sinian bread,  while  a 
short  distance  off,  but 
still  on  the  platform, 
which  was  screened 
from  the  rest  of  the 
building  by  heavy  cur- 
tains, tables  were  laid 
for  His  Maj-esty's 
European  guests.  All 
around  were  grouped 
members  of  Menelik's 
Court. 

"  After  the  formal 
introductions  we  were 
conducted  to  our 
tables  and  partook  of 
an  excellent  and  well- 
cooked  meal.  The 
menu  included  clear 
soup,  rissoles  ot  meat,         From  a\ 


cabbage  and  mutton,  maca- 
roni, hard-boiled  eggs  and 
pepper,  and  omelettes, 
washed  down  with  cham- 
pagne, tej,  araki,  claret,  and 
burgundy.  The  Negus  him- 
self, who  sat  at  a  table  apart, 
ate  but  sparingly,  and  when- 
ever he  drank  his  attendants 
carefully  shielded  him  from 
the  public  gaze.  Grouped 
around  the  Emperor  were 
his  great  officers  of  State, 
and  in  front  of  these  atten- 
dants held  up  pieces  of  raw 
beef,  from  which  the  guests 
helped  themselves,  cutting 
off  portions  with  a  knife. 
One  end  of  the  shreds  they 
placed  in  their  mouths  and 
then  severed  the  piece  from 
the  main  joint. 

"  At  the  conclusion  of 
our  meal  we  drank  our 
host's  health,  and  then  the  curtains  were  drawn, 
disclosing  to  view  a  great  hall  over  a  hundred 
and  fifty  feet  long  and  about  a  hundred  feet 
broad,  into  which  poured  officers  and  soldiers. 
This  crowd  immediately  squatted  round  low  iron 
tables  and  at  once  set-to  to  dispose  of  their  jugs 
of  honey  beer  and  to  hack  off  the  shreds  of  raw 
meat  from  the  quivering  lumps  of  flesh  which 
were  handc  d  around.  At  the  conclusion  of  the 
orgy  the  State  trumpeters  performed  a  fanfare 
and  we  took  our  leave." 

After  a  very  pleasant  stay  at  the  capital  the 
travellers  struck  south  with  the  object  of  skirt- 


[P/zoto. 


Hf   mwth 


ssnHBnwMwc 


CROSSING    LAKE   ZWAI. 


\Photo. 


AN    ANGLO-AMERICAN     EXPEDITION     IN     ABYSSINIA. 


A    NATI\  E    MARKE 

From  a] 


PEOPLE 
FORE. 


HEREABOUTS    HAD    NEVER    SEEN    A    WHITE 

I  Photo. 


hlbt 

a  numb 
nati 

and     pi 

them  with  th<    " 
I. mi  lirit. 

I  hi     party,    hi 
suffered     no      in< 
v<  nient  e  from  supei 
natural 

After  visiting  som< 
new    country    in    the 
direction  of  th 
Lord     Hindlip,     Mr. 
Whitehi  mi   Dr. 

Bell  returned  to  the 
i  apital,  and  eventually 
reached  th  t  at 

I  )jibutil  some  months 
later. 


ing  the  chain  of  lakes  some  three  hun- 
dred miles  south  of  Adis  Ababa,  some 
portions  of  which  were  now  visited  for 
the  first  time  by  Europeans.  A  week 
after  leaving  the  capital,  passing  en  route 
the  sacred  mountain  of  Zaquala,  after  a 
descent  of  several  thousand  feet  the 
expedition  reached  the  shores  of  Lake 
Zwai,  which  in  places  was  extremely 
shallow.  In  the  photo,  on  the  previous 
page  the  caravan  is  to  be  seen  crossing 
a  portion  of  this  lake,  the  shore  of  which 
is  inhabited  by  primitive  fishing  tribes. 
To  the  north  Menelik  keeps  a  fleet  of 
over  three  hundred  rush-boats.  Hippo 
tracks  were  seen  on  all  sides,  and  im- 
mense numbers  of  pelicans,  flamingoes, 
and  other  long-legged  birds  were  on  its 
shores. 

Early  on  the  morning  of  the  day 
following  their  arrival  the  travellers 
came  upon  a  market,  which  is  shown 
in  the  above  snap-shot.  Many  of  the 
people  round  this  lake  had  never  seen 
a  white  man  before,  and  at  first  they 
bolted  like  rabbits  at  sight  of  the 
strangers.  Later,  however,  they  became 
more  accustomed  to  their  presence, 
and  proved  to  be  friendly  and  intelli- 
gent. 

Later,  the  expedition  visited  the 
VValamo  country,  described  by  Captain 
Welby  as  a  "devil-infested  zone."     The 


From  a\ 


THA  I 


The    Princess's    Proposal. 

THE   STORY  OF  AN  UNCONVENTIONAL  COURTSHIP. 

By  Carl  Hertz. 

The  famous  juggler,  who  has  travelled  all  over  the  world,  here  tells  of  an  exciting  experience 
which  befell  him  in  Borneo.  A  savage  Princess  signified  her  desire  to  marry  him,  and  would 
brook  no  refusal  !  The  infatuated  lady,  however,  reckoned  without  Mr.  Hertz's  ingenuity. 
By  means  of  a  clever  deception  he  escaped  from  this  embarrassing  imbroglio,  leaving  the 
Royal  lady  to  mourn  what   she  deemed   his  tragic  end. 


FEW  years  ago — in  1896,  to  be 
exact — I  was  appearing  at  a  place 
called  Surabaya,  in  Java,  when  an 
experience  befell  me  the  like  of 
which  I  have  no  desire  to  have 
repeated. 

It  may  be  difficult  at  first  for  stay-at-home 
folk  to  adequately  realize  what  an  eventful  life 
is  that  of  an  habitual  globe-trotter  such  as  myself, 
and  what  strange  incidents  go  to  the  composi- 
tion of  it.  The  curious  story  I  am  about  to 
relate  is  but  one  of  many  such  experiences — 
almost  inevitable  to  the  traveller  whose  business 
takes  him  through  savage  and  uncivilized 
countries. 

Well,  while  appearing  at  Surabaya  I  received 


STREET   SCENE   IN   JAVA,    SHOWING   ONE   OF    MR.    HERTZ?    PI. 

Frotu  a  Photo. 


an  intimation  that  my  fame  as  a  wonder-worket 
had  travelled  a  considerable  distance  and  had 
become  known  to  the  Royalty,  nobility,  and 
gentry  of  a  remote  district  of  Borneo  of  whose 
existence  I  had  never  before  heard.  This  inti- 
mation took  the  form  of  a  kind  of  "  command  " 
performance,  which  I  was  instructed  to  give  at 
the  palace  of  the  King,  or  chief,  of  one  of  the 
many  tribes  of  Dyaks. 

Now,  no  public  performer  objects  to  this  sort 
of  summons,  but  upon  this  occasion  it  was  not 
to  be  a  gratuitous  performance,  as  I  was  hand- 
somely remunerated  for  my  time  and  trouble. 
Needless  to  say,  under  these  circumstances,  I 
was  not  loth  to  have  the  honour  of  mystifying 
a  ruling  potentate,  whatever  his  colour  might  be. 

As  may  be  supposed, 
magic  is  a  form  of  enter- 
tainment which  appeals 
strongly  to  the  somewhat 
benighted  minds  of  savage 
peoples.  In  fact,  the 
natives  of  these  remote 
regions  are  not  to  be  con- 
vinced that  the  deceptions 
and  illusions  you  practise 
upon  them  are  anything 
but  genuine  demonstra- 
tions of  supernatural  gifts. 
This  has  been  my  experi- 
ence upon  innumerable 
occasions. 

Packing  up  my  baggage 
I  set  off  for  Borneo, 
accompanied  by  my  wife, 
an  interpreter  supplied 
to  me  by  the  British 
Consul,  and  my  assistants. 
I  carried  my  own  scenery, 
and  my  apparatus,  as  may 
be  imagined,  was  some- 
what bulky. 

Havinsr      arrived      in 

nil-,  wall.  °        _ 

Borneo,   the  first   stage  or 


THE     PRINCESS'S    PROPOSAL. 


479 


our  journey  up-country,  a  distance  of  fifty  miles, 
was  made  on  horseback.  We  then  had  to  cross 
a  river  by  boat,  when  we  found  ourselves  within 
a  short  distance  of  our  destination.  We  were 
met  upon  our  arrival  by  a  considerable  retinue 
from  the  King  we  had  come  to  visit,  and  con- 
ducted to  a  very  handsome  building  of  stone 
and  marble.  This  was  the  Royal  palace.  Here 
we  were  allotted  comfortable  quarters  and,  after 
we  had  settled  down,  were  shown  the  chamber 
wherein  the  entertainment  was  to  be  given. 
This  was  a  large  and  handsome  apartment,  with 
a  platform  at  one  end  which  did  duty  for  a 
stage.  Upon  this  I  erected  my  "fit-up."  There 
was  also  a  kind  of  raised  dais  a  short  distance 
from  the  stage,  at  the  side,  situated  diagonally, 
with  a  somewhat  lower  platform  beneath  it. 
This  I  conjectured — as  afterwards  proved  to  be 
the  case — was  for  the  accommodation  of  the 
King  and  the  members  of  his  family  and  suite ; 
for  in  Oriental  countries  it  is  beneath  the  dignity 
of  a  ruler  to  appear  in  public  lower 
than,  or  even  on  a  level  with,  his 
subjects. 

The  night  of  the  performance 
arrived,  and  the  .hall  was  crowded 
with  a  vast  assembly  of  natives 
and  an  imposing  array  of  digni- 
taries. The  King,  in  all  his  regal 
splendour,  sat  upon  his  improvised 
throne,  breathing  dignity  and 
benignity,  while  at  his  feet  reposed 
a  young  lady  of  opulent  charms, 
clothed  in  a  costume  that  was 
pretty  where  it  was  noticeable,  but 
on  the  whole  might  be  described 
as  somewhat  scanty.  Whatever 
her  own  people  may  have  thought 
about  her,  she  was  not  pretty  from 
a  European  standpoint — to  put  it 
plainly,  she  was  decidedly  ugly. 
The  young  lady,  I  learnt,  was  the 
King's  favourite  daughter.  Al- 
though I  did  not  know  it,  this 
Princess  was  destined  to  cause  me 
much  distress. 

The  show  went  off  splendidly  ; 
the  natives  received  the  illusions 
with  undisguised  awe.  Every 
now  and  then,  I  noticed,  the 
Princess  and  her  illustrious  papa 
smiled  appreciatively,  turning  up 
of  their  eyes  and  displaying  their  fine,  glisten- 
ing teeth. 

The  thing  that  bothered  me  most  was  the 
peculiar  form  the  Royal  applause  took.  It  was 
not  that  which  I  was  familiar  with,  caused  by 
clapping  the  hands  together,  but  was  a  fo-m  of 
appreciation  wholly  strange  to  me.     The  King 


himself   indulged   in   a    kind  of  natural 

chuckle,  varied  occasionally  by  a  rnal 

explosion,  as  though  h< 

of  laughter,  which  my  tri<  I  illy  igni 

But   the  Princess  signified   1 

series  of  sonorous  grunts,  wliiih  [was  at  first  in 

doubt  whether  to  construe  as  an  indicatioi 

contempt  or  appreciation. 

After  a  time,  however,  I  'hat   I  ■ 

a    big   success.       Most    of    tin-   tmks    that    1 
performed  appeared  to  cause  genuin  ish- 

ment,  particularly  when  I   found  money  in 
air    and    upon     the    garments   of    persons   who 
had    heretofore  never   been    known    to  pos 
any.     I  felt  that  I   was  rapidly  making 
name  with  them. 

My  entertainment  concluded  with  an   illusion 
called    "The    Phoenix."       'n     this    my    w 
enveloped  in  drapery,  stepped  into  a  cauldron  of 
fire  and  appeared  to  be   burnt   alive,   her  place 
being  taken  by  a  skeleton,   which  in   turn  gave 


the    whites 


way  to  my  wife,  who  reappeared   i 

This   trick    in    particular  rin    the 

admiration  of  the  grunting  Prin 

eloquent  look  of  affection    in  n 

kind  of  proprietorial   gaze,  it 
the  time. 

I  gave  altogether  tic 
the  Royal  household,  varying  the  tricks  at  each 


480 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


MR.    CARL    HERTZ,    WHO    HERE    TELLS   OF   THE    EXCITING    EXPERI- 
ENCE   WHICH    BEFELL   HIM    IN    BORNEO. 

From  a  Photo,  by  Charles  &f  Russell,  Belfast. 


show,  the  wonder  of  my  audience,  and  their 
respect  for  me,  seeming  to  increase  with 
each  successive  exhibition.  In  a  measure 
this  was  very  gratifying,  but  the  sequel  was 
certainly  not  so,  as  you  will  presently  see. 
At  the  conclusion  of 

the  third  performance  I        , _____ 

was  made  acquainted, 
in  a  very  short  space 
of  time,  with  several 
distinctly  unpleasant 
facts.  The  interpreter, 
a  half-caste  gentleman 
who  had  accompanied 
me  from  Java,  an- 
nounced that  he  had  a 
Royal  message,  or  man- 
date, to  deliver.  Now 
in  civilized  countries, 
when  a  "command 
performance  takes  place, 
it  is  the  custom  for  the 
principal  artistes 
to  receive  at  the 
hands  of  their 
distinguished 
patrons  some 
kind  of  souvenir 
of  the  event. 
Some  such  pre- 
sentation I  was 
expecting  upon 
the  occasion  in 
question,    but    I 


u«K  . 


HER    ROVAL    HIGHNESS    DESIRES   TO    BE    WEDDED   TO    YOU. 


STZ,    WHO    PLAYS   A    1'ROMINENT    PAR 
HER    HUSBAND'S   STORY. 

From  a  Photo,  by  Charles  &*  Russell,  Belfast. 

never  dreamed  for  an  instant  that  it  could 
possibly  be  anything  so  precious  as  I  was  desired 
to  accept.  Said  my  dusky  interpreter,  stolidly: — 
"  I  am  commanded  by  the  Princess  to  inform 
you  that  Her  Royal  Highness  desires  to  be 
wedded  to  you  !  " 

That  was  all.  To  say  that 
I  was  staggered  at  this  infor- 
mation is  to  put  it  mildly.  My 
wife  was  present 
at  the  time,  and 
stood  in  open- 
mouthed  aston- 
ishment. I  could 
only  conclude 
that  my  dusky 
friend  was  play- 
'  ing  a  mild  little 
joke  on  me  for 
his  own  amuse- 
ment, so  I  burst 
out  laughing, 
winked,  and  was 
about  to  com- 
plete the  plea- 
santry by  digging 
him  in  the  ribs 
when  I  noticed 
a  serious  look 
spread  over  his 
saturnine  coun- 
tenance. Then 
my  laugh  began 
to  weaken. 


THE    PRINCESS'S    PR0P0SA1 


"  It   is    no   laughing  matter,"  said   the    inl 
preter,  gravely.     "The  Princess  is  not  used  to 
having  her  wishes  thwarted.      It  is  also  a  serious 
matter  to  offend  her   Royal  father,  and  to  cross 
one  is  to  cross  the  other." 

I  then  learned  that  the  Princess  was  desirous 
of  marrying  me,   not  so  much   from   affection's 
dictates,   but  on    account    of    my   supernatural 
qualities.     A  man  who  could  find  money  where 
none     was     ever      known      to      exist     before, 
and    who    could    cause    at    will    a    conflagra 
tion    in    which    undesirable    persons    might    be 
disposed    of,    was    not    to  be   despised,   and   a 
decided    acquisition    to  a  lady 
who    was    destined     to    rule    a 
nation. 

This     was    all    very    fine,    I 
thought;    but    I   did   not    want 
my  domestic  affairs  to  be  com- 
plicated   in     this    high-handed 
fashion,  so  I  protested   that    1 
was    married  already,  and  was 
therefore  ineligible    to  become 
a    member   of    the 
Royal  family,  much 
as  I  appreciated  the 
honour  extended  to 
me. 

The  interpreter 
conveyed  my  objec- 
tion to  the  Princess, 
returning  shortly 
after,  and,  with  a 
look  of  gratification 
which  annoyed  me 
exceedingly,  con- 
veyed the  cheerful 
intelligence  that  the 
fact  of  my  being 
married  was  not 
regarded  as  any 
obstacle  to  the 
union  by  the  Prin- 
cess, who  would  be 

glad  to  be  a  sister  to  my  wife,  or  to  any  other 
wives  I  might  desire  to  have  !  So  polygamy 
was  one  of  their  customs  !  I  had  forgotten 
for  the  moment  that  I  was  in  an  Oriental 
clime,  but  now  I  realized  all  the  more  for- 
cibly into  what  a  hornet's  nest  I  had  stuml 
and  bitterly  regretted  that  I  had  ever  been 
induced  to  display  my  skill  at  deception  before 
this  dusky  daughter  of  a  savage  King. 

My  wife,  naturally,  indignantly  repudiated  the 
proffered  sisterhood,  and  went  on  to 
what  she  thought  of  the  Princess  and  her  tribe 
in  general,  but  I  deemed  it  as  well,  under  the 
circumstances,  to  temporize.  After  much  cogita- 
tion, therefore,  I  consented  to  wed  the  Princess. 

Vol.  xiv.— 61. 


I-H1S  1NTEKPKETER   CONVEYJ 


At    this   news  the   interpi 

visibly     I  learned  'hat  his  <,w n  |" 

ol  mind  and  bod)    \ 

thing  went    wrong   with    tl  ut  I 

a  >ked  that  the  nuptials  n 

ance   for   a    few   d  This    v. 

and   then  1  lost  no  time    in    sounding    ti. 

preter  to  his  lowest  depths  on  thi  t,  in 

order  to  try  and  find  a  loop! 

Hut,  instead  of  the  result  inspiring   me  with  a 

sense  of  security,  it  only  served  to  increase  m\ 

alarm.     1  was   informed   that    refusal  oi   t.ulure 

to  carry  out   the  required   ceremony   would  !><■ 

attended  with  con 
siderable  risk,  inas 
much    as    tin;    King 
in  question  had  the 
power  to  (  onscripl 
into    his    ••  army 
any  foreigni  r  to  h< 
found     within     his 
dominions   in   time 
i  il  war.  If  1  offended 
the  King  by  r< 
ing      to     wed     the 
1'rinress    he    might 
summarilyconscript 
me,   in   which 
i      the      I 
himself     had    no 
power  in  the  matter. 
If   the  worst  came 
to  the  worst  I  might 
even    he    ruthlessly 
shuffled  out  of  this 
mortal  coil.    Rulers 
of   the  class  of   the 
King  of  a  tril 
Dyaks    are   gi 
autocrats    than    the 
Czar    of     All     the 
Russias.     doing 

much  as  they  p 
in  their  own    terri- 
tory and   being   left   religiously  alom  ally, 
the  anxious  interpreter  advised  me.  as  a  n 
il   1  was  determined  not   towed   the  Prill 
devise    some    means  whereby   I    m  it  a 
secret  retreat  through  the  m<                           k  ol 
some  sort. 

Turning  this  advice   over  in   m;  1    al 

saw  away  out  of  the  dilemn 
to    give   another    perform. m.  e    in 
••  prior  to   my   marriaj 
duly   assembled,    with 

nting  Princ.  ss     how   I 
her'     present  in  their  usual  ■ 
retreat  was  already  mapped  out 
for;  much  of  my  "  was  going  on  ahead 


482 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


even  during  the  performance  in  charge  of  assis- 
tants who  had  instructions  to  make  for-  the  river, 
on  the  other  side  of  which  lay  safety. 

Everything  went  off  smoothly  enough.  All 
my  tricks  were  received  with  awe  and  open- 
mouthed  astonishment,  weird  exclamations  of 
appreciation  emanating  from  the  King  and  his 


estimable  daughter, 


whose  smiles  and  endearing 


looks  I  found  most  embar- 
rassing.    Last  oh  the  pro- 
gramme came  the  "Phoenix" 
illusion,  by  means  of  which 
I      proposed      to 
effect   my  escape 
and  put  an  end  to 
a    most  annoying 
imbroglio. 

The  psycholo- 
gical m  oment 
arrived.  The 
cauldron  in  which 
the  cremation  ap- 
peared to  take 
place  was  con- 
tained in  a  cabi- 
net. My  wife 
stood  near,  ready 
for  the  ordeal ; 
the  eyes  of  the 
"house"  were 
fixed  on  the  stage 
in  strained  expec- 
tancy. I  made  a 
few  passes,  and 
flames  leapt  up  in 
the  cauldron.  My 
wife  was  about  to 
enter  the  cabinet 

when  I  rudely  thrust  her  on  one  side, 
leapt  into  the  furnace,  and  was  soon  en- 
veloped in  the  fiery  tongues  of  flame.  Cries 
of  horror  went  up  from  all  parts  of  the  build- 
ing, and  a  piercing  scream  came  from  the 
enamoured  Princess,  who,  leaping  to  her  feet, 
started  to  make  for  the  cabinet.  She  was, 
however,  seized  and  forcibly  held  back  by  her 
terrified  attendants. 

As  for  me,  I  was  totally  consumed  by  the 
flames  and  there  was  an  end  of  me,  for  I 
omitted  to  resuscitate  myself — at  least,  on  that 


]    WAS    SOON    ENVELOPE!}    IN    THE    PIKRV    TONGUES    OF    FLAME. 


side  of  the  river  !  But  if  the  inconsolable 
Princess  had  only  thought  to  look  into  a  certain 
big  basket,  which  was  even  then  being  taken 
away  by  some  of  my  assistants,  she  would  have 
found  the  reluctant  man  of  her  choice  snugly 
ensconced  therein.  From  out  of  the  cramped 
shelter  of  that  receptacle  I  never  once  ventured 
to  peep  until   I  had  reached  the  other  side  of 

the  river. 

My  wife  made 
a  great  show  ot 
grief  at  my 
"death,"  and, 
vowing  she  would 
not  stay  another 
moment  in  the 
place  where  she 
had  so  tragically 
lost  her  husband, 
followed  after  me. 
Thus  I  made 
my  escape  from 
the  love-sick  Prin- 
cess and  her  most 
undesirable  attentions. 
At  that  savage  Court, 
but  for  a  happy  device, 
I  might  have  com- 
pleted my  last  engage- 
ment on  earth.  The 
Dyaks  of  this  tribe 
were  a  particularly 
savage  lot,  and  would 
no  doubt  have  thought 
nothing  of  murdering 
me  out  of  hand,  if  they 
had  known  of  the 
slight  put  upon  their 
Princess.  I  did  not  quite  know  where  I  was 
going  at  the  time  when  I  went  among  them 
so  gaily,  or  perhaps  I  should  not  have  been 
anxious  to  fulfil  the  engagement. 

I  have  often  wondered  .since  what  happened 
to  that  luckless  interpreter,  whom  we  did  not 
see  again.  Possibly  his  scalp  was  added  to  the 
national  museum.  And  my  Princess — what  of 
her?  Has  she  found  consolation  in  the  love  of 
some  brown-skinned  warrior,  or  does  she  still 
mourn  for  the  white  magician  who  perished  so 
tragically  before  her  very  eyes  ? 


My  Experiences  at  "King   Solomon's   Mines." 

i;v  R.  N.    Hall,   F.R.G.S. 

During    the    last    two  years  the   author   has    been    investigating    the    mysterious    buried    city    of  G: 
Zimbabwe    in    Mashonaland,  the  home   of  Mr.  Rider  Haggard's   "She."     For  centuries   t. 
place    was    entirely    lost    sight    of,    but    recent    discoveries    tend    to    show    that    the    Great    Zim 
with    its    three-thousand-year-old    ruins,     may    possibly    be    the    site    of    the    golden    Ophir    of     K 
Solomon.      Mr.    Hall    illustrates    his    interesting    narrative     specially    written    for    ••  The    Wide    Work 
Magazine"  —  with    some    striking    photographs    of   the    wonderful    buildings    brought    to    light    in    I 

course  of  his  investigations. 


II. 


mm 


UST  at  sunset,  when  the  shadows 
are  already  gathering  over  these 
strange  and  mysterious  ruins,  an 
inexpressible  sensation  of  intense 
loneliness  creeps  over  the  spectator. 
No  other  human  foot  will  tread  these  ancient 
approaches  to  the  Acropolis  till  the  sun  has 
risen  once  again.  There  is  no  other  white  man 
within  miles,  and  the  natives  will  not  venture 
near  the  buried  city  after  sundown,  as  they 
firmly  believe  it  to  be  haunted  by  the  spirits 
of  their  long-dead  ancestors. 

Ascending  the  hill  through  the  sunless  Rock 
Passage,  one  sees  through  a  gap  in  the  Titanic 
wall    of    the    Western  Temple  down  the  sheer 


drop  of  the  hill.     The  elliptical  temple  is 
losing    its    last    faint    touches  ol    sunset      ! 
"Valley  of  Ruins"  is  already  in  shadow,  and  it^ 
chaos   of  walls   looks   even   more   chaotic  and 
bewildering  than  it  did  in  the  full  light  ol  • 
The   long   ravine   of  Schlichter  Gorge    is 
blurred  in  grey  distances.     The  kopj<  th< 

same     backgammon  -  shaped    shadows 
the   valleys,  just  as    they    did    three   thousand 
years  ago  when  the  tired  ancients  wat<  hed  the 
drawing  in  of  day. 

(dancing  round  the  Western  Temple,  a  corner 
of  which  is  depicted  in  the  accompanying  ph 
graph,    one   only   sees    the  and 

passages  deserted.     This  area  might  have  h 


I-  ton!  a\ 


■ 


4§4 


THE    WIDE     WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


a  busy  spot  for  the  ancient  occupiers  at  this 
hour  of  the  day,  for  monoliths,  decorative  mural 
patterns,  conical  towers,  and  the  ancient  religious 
emblems  found  here  all  bespeak  a  place  of 
worship.  The  call  to  prayers  and  the  chanting 
of  the  evening  psalm  of  the  devout  at  sunset 
might  at  this  same  hour  have  rung  round  the 
self  same  hallowed  walls  which  sphinx-like  look 
down  blankly  upon  the  modern  intruder. 

But  the  dank  smell  of  decay  has  now  usurped 
the  place  of  the  sweet-smelling  incense  of  the 
ancient  ritual.  The  monoliths  still  point 
upwards,  but  who  to-day  can  explain  their  plan 
and  purpose,  or  read  the  silent  intimations  their 
shadows  were  wont  to  convey  ? 

But  the  associations  of  the  Acropolis   ruins 


wander  at  will  through  temples  and  residential 
quarters,  and  into  caves  which  once  might  have 
held  the  ancient  gold  stores  of  this  part  of  the 
country.  There  is  now  no  officer  on  duty  to 
challenge  one's  approach.  The  sentry  recesses 
in  the  narrow  passages  and  at  the  entrances 
appear  singularly  empty,  for  Fate  came  on  duty 
to  relieve  guard  very  many  centuries  ago. 

One  passes  along  shoulder-wide  and  tortuous 
passages,  where  at  every  corner  one  might  almost 
expect  to  come  face  to  face  with  Rider  Haggard's 
"  She,"  and  enter  some  enclosure  the  sides  of 
which  are  formed  by  the  perpendicular  flanks  of 
tall  cliffs  and  huge  boulders,  where  the  ancients 
are  known  to  have  fashioned  their  gold.  There 
is    now    no   sound   of  hammering   the   precious 


I9BB 


From  a) 


lie  even  more  with  the  ancient  military  occupiers 
than  with  those  of  priests  and  worship.  Traverses, 
buttresses,  screen-walls,  banquettes,  parapets, 
and  all  the  other  devices  of  a  people  conver- 
sant with  military  engineering  are  in  great 
evidence  all  over  the  hill.  The  ancients  were 
military  strategists  of  high  order  and  the 
Acropolis  a  stronghold,  and  its  most  prominent 
feature  was  defence. 

At  this  sundown  hour  no  companies  of 
ancient  soldiery  ascend  from  the  fort  at  the 
foot  of  the  hill  to  relieve  guard  and  take  up 
their  night  watches  on  the  massive  wall  barriers. 
In   the   now  dim   and  scanty  twilight  one  can 


metal  on  the  rounded  dolerite  anvils,  nor 
reddish  glow  of  light  reflected  on  the  cliff  sides 
as  when  the  gold-furnace  was  uncovered  for  the 
removal  of  the  heated  crucibles.  The  pre- 
historic goldsmith's  shop  is  now  desolate  and 
damp  and  a  fitting  spot  for  the  loathsome, 
crawling  creatures  which  inhabit  its  dark 
recesses. 

But  daylight  is  dying  fast.  Glancing  down 
through  the  gaps  in  the  outer  walls  are  seen 
specks  of  firelight  at  near  and  remote  Maka- 
langa  villages,  where  the  evening  meal  is  being 
prepared.  A  typical  Makalanga  hamlet  will  be 
seen  in  the  above  picture. 


MY    EXPERIENCES    AT    "KING    SOLOMO 


curious   embli 

which   havi 

pla<  Ins.      | 

most  striking  is  th 

curious    natural    I 

following  photograph.  All  I 

are   believed    I  d    in 

honour  ol  Ashtaroth. 

The    lues    of    Havilah    Camp 
brightly,  and  the  figures  of  tl 
be  seen  passing  and  n  ibout  the 

camp  like  spe<  tral  forms  from  a<  ross  the 
Styx.     The  lamp  in  my  hut  shines  upon 
the  table  laid  for  the  ev<  ning  mi  a 
two   apron  (lad    hut-boys    bring    in    tin- 
dishes   and    move  quietly  ab< 
that  all  is  spotlessly  clean  and  tidy.     The 
photograph  at   the  top  ol  the  m 
shows  the   interior  of   my    primitive   hut 
amid   the  ruins.      "Dirty   Bi    .        giant 
youth  of  twenty,  and  notoriously  neat  and 
i  li  an  in  all  his  ways,  is  summoned  and 
-  stands   erect  within   the   hut,   a  splendid 
model  for  a  sculptor.      Hi    has   to  start 
off  early  before  sun-up  to  fetch  the  I  i  . 
mail  for  the  baba,  and  he  will  trot    tin- 
whole   of   the    thirty-four    miles    and    be 
back  at  Havilah  Camp  during  the 
noon,  bringing  on  his  head  some  thirty - 


THE   OUTF.K    FACE    OV    THE    WEST    WALL. 

From  a  Photo. 


Passing  along  Central  Passage,  which,  even 
at  noontide,  is  perpetually  in  shadow  owing 
to  tall  cliffs  on  either  side,  but  is  now  in 
deepest  blackness,  and  descending  the  sunken 
passage  to  the  outer  face  of  the  great  west 
wall  of  the  Western  Temple,  depicted  in  the 
above  photograph,  one  arrives  where  a 
slight  afterglow  of  the  sunset  still  lingers  over 
the  brow  of  Rusivanga  Kopje. 

Again  one  enters  into  the  deep  shadow  of 
another  sunken  and  earth -smelling  passage 
with  high  side  walls,  and  so  rapidly  descends 
the  face  of  the  hill,  glad  to  emerge  once  more 
into  the  cool,  fresh  air. 

High  in  the  west  is  Venus,  the  evening 
star,  shining  brightly — Venus,  or  Almaq,  the 
Ashtaroth  of  the  Scriptures, .the  goddess  ol 
the  ancient  star  -  worshipping  Sabaeans  ol 
Yemen,  in  South  Arabia,  whose  warship  the 
best-qualified  scientists  believe  was  practised 
by  the  original  builders  of  this  ruined  city  of 
Great  Zimbabwe.  She  complacently  shines 
down  upon  her  ruined  shrines,  and  wonders, 
doubtless,  why  these  "People  of  the  Sun' 
should  convert  the  sacred  emblems  of  hei 
worship  into  pipe  bowls  for  smoking  hemp. 
Mention    of   Ashtaroth    reminds    me    of    the 


. 


I  so 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


1' roil'-  a\ 


NTERIOR    (IK    THE    AUTHOR'S    HUT    AMONG   THE    KUINS. 


five  pounds'  weight  of  goods.  "  Dirty  Boy"  is 
always  happy  when  ordered  to  fetch  the  weekly 
mail. 

Towia,  the  ganger,  enters  to  report  that  two 
of  his  gang  are  "  plenty  sick,"  and  he  must  have 
two  more  steriki  (strong)  boys  in  the  morning, 
and  offers  to  find  them  if  allowed  to  run  to 
Chenga's  village,  some  two  miles  away.  Next  a 
young  wife  of  the  chief  Mogabe,  attended  by 
one  of  his  headmen,  presents  herself  for 
medicine.  Her  case  is  diagnosed  and  the 
proper  remedies  administered.  A  labourer 
suffering  from  a  severe  flesh  wound  has  to  be 
treated  and  bandaged.     Thus  an  hour  is  spent. 

But  though  the  boys  have  completed  their 
day's  work  much  has  to  be  done  at  the  writer's 
hut :  ration  sheets  and  requisitions  for  stores 
and  Government  reports  to  be  made  out,  corre- 
spondence to  be  dealt  with,  sketches  of  relics 
and  plans  of  ruins  to  be  drawn,  cameras  to  be 
recharged,  and  the  day's  diary  of  the  boys'  work 
to  be  entered  up. 

Finally,  there  is  a  walk  round  the  camp  to  see 
that  all  is  safe  for  the  night,  and  this  is  followed 
by  half  an  hour's  smoke  under  the  veranda  of 
the  mud  hut.  Kumuri  brings  the  final  cup  of 
coffee,  the  hut  door  is  closed,  the  rifle  loaded 
and  leant  near  the  bed,  and  the  day  for  Havilah 
Camp  is  past  and  over. 

But  the  guinea-fowl  wake  the  camp  before 
sun-up,  "Dirty  Boy"  starts  to  fetch  the  mail, 
and  once  again  the  camp  is  a  scene  of  bustle 
and  muniment.      Blanket-robed  "  boys  "  stretch- 


ing their  limbs  wake  the 
echoes  of  the  Zimbabwe 
precipices  with  their  noisy 
yawnings,  which  jar  on  the 
lilt  of  the  dawn-anthems  of 
the  birds.  The  peaks  of 
the  hills  to  the  east  are 
already  edged  with  the  fire 
of  the  coming  light.  At 
last  a  notched  portion  of 
the  sun  appears  over  the 
distant  mountain  heights. 
Now  everything  is  crimson. 
The  granite  cliffs  and  mas- 
sive boulders,  the  tall  grass, 
the  ruined  walls,  even  the 
mules  outspanned  in  the 
valley  in  front  of  the  camp, 
are  all  crimson. 

Another  day  has  dawned 
for  the  Great  Zimbabwe. 
What  fresh  wonders  in 
ancient  architecture  and 
priceless  prehistoric  relics 
will  it  yield  to  the  explorer 
ere  the  sun  again  sinks 
down  into  the  west  ?  Will  it  witness  the  dis- 
covery of  a  new  ruin,  like  that  shown  in  the 
photo,  on  the  next  page  ?  I  may  mention 
that  in  the  course  of  the  excavations  numerous 
rich  finds  have  been  made — ancient  gold  orna- 


\rhoto. 


^^^ 


DIRTY    HOY  "    ARRIVES    WITH    THE    WEEKLY    MAIL. 

From  a  Photo. 


MY    EXPERIENCES    .VI     'KING    SOLOMON'S    MIX 


/• }  oin  a  ] 


A     NEW    D1SCOV1    I    . 


ments,  gold  plates,  and  crucibles  still  containing 
traces  of  the  precious  metal. 

But  the  visitor  has  still  two  or  three  hours 
yet  before  he  need  start  on  his  return  journey 
to  civilization  and  the  great  outer  world  from 
which  Zimbabwe  is  so  shut  off.  All  visitors 
to  Zimbabwe  make  the  most  of  their  stay  at 
H  a  v  i  1  a  h  Camp. 
The  nearest  of  the 
native  villages  can 
be  reached  and 
inspected  under 
the  guidance  of 
one  of  the  writer's 
attendants,  or  the 
"Valley  of  Ruins" 
or  the  elliptical 
temple  can  be 
visited.  Even  the 
minor  ruins — like 
the  one  here  illus- 
trated —  have  a 
subtle,  indescrib- 
able fascination  of 
their  own.  There 
is  much  to  see  at 
Zimbabwe  and 
plenty  to  think 
about  for  the  rest 
of  one's  life. 

But  the  reader 
shall  be  taken  by 
the  Anak  form  of 


i 

lay    tl 

from   ti, 

old-world     11  litan 

tre.      Thi 
Zimbabwe    at    I 
i  uins  in  the  valley.     A 
well  -  define  d      line    ol 
route,    pn  I    at 

strategetic     points     by 
ruins    of    buildings,  in 
dicates    beyond    doubt 
the  actual    road  of  the 
ancients. 

Along  tin  Mins 

a     much-frequei 
native     track    used 
numerous    long    stril 
of  "boys"  coming  up,  between  the  harvest  and 
the  sowing,  from  the  districts  of  ill  ekqwe, 

Sabi,  Lundi,  and  Crocodile  rivers.     The  ruins 
protecting    this    route    form    a    chain    of    f< 
which    occur    at    intervals    a    lew    miles    apart. 
But  the  Beroma  Hills  look  like  a  Titanic  wall  ol 
granite  cliffs  barring  the  passage  the  im.h1   iak-  -. 


\l'hoto. 


488 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


"  Sheba's  Breasts  "  stand  clearly  against  the 
sky.  Crossing  the  Mapudzi  stream,  the  Beroma 
Hills  are  found  not  to  be  such  an  obstacle  to 
progress  as  is  first  imagined,  for  on  its  west  side 
is  a  broad  defile  leading  up  towards  the  summit 
of  the  range,  and  close  to  the  defile  is  a  well- 
built  ruined  fort  —  Chenga's  ruins  —  which 
guards  the  higher  end  of  the  defile.  This  is  the 
first  posting-station  or  caravansary  on  the 
ancient  Zimbabwe  and  Sofala  main  road. 

So  the  ancients  leaving  Zimbabwe  knew  they 
had  at  least  fifteen  days' 
tramping  ahead  of  them 
before  they  could  see  the 
blue  waters  of  the  Indian 
Ocean,  for  there  is  no 
evidence  of  their  having 
wheeled  vehicles.  The 
journey  may  have  been 
even  longer,  owing  to 
the  delays  of  the  slave- 
gangs  and  carriers  with 
their  burdens  of  sjold 
and  ivory,  and  to  the  cau- 
tion needed  in  passing 
through  a  land  clearly 
shown  by  the  protecting 
forts  to  have  been  hostile 
territory. 

This  route  passes 
through  magnificently 
wild  country  on  to  the 
Mapaku  ruins  (or  "  Little 
Zimbabwe")  at  six  miles 
distance,  the  Rumeni 
ruins  at  ten  miles,  and 
the  Majerri  ruins  at  six- 
teen miles  south-east  of 
Zimbabwe.  The  con- 
figuration of  the  country 
points  out  the  only  pos- 
sible route  open  to  the 
ancients.  At  Chenga's 
ruins     the     ancients    on 

from  the  coast  would  obtain  their  last  or  first 
view  of  Zimbabwe.  Beyond  Chenga's  the 
country  abounds  with  big  buck,  wild  boars,  and 
game  of  all  sorts. 

At  Chenga's  we  turn  again  to  reach  Havilah 
Camp  by  another  path  and  visit  the  Chipopopo, 
a  beautiful  waterfall  within  a  cave.  Here  are 
palms  and  tree-ferns  with  trunks  ten  feet  high, 
an  acre  of  royal  fern,  and  clumps  of  beautiful 
maidenhair.  This  waterfall  is  considered  to  be 
one  of  the  gems  of  the  Rhodesian  scenery. 

Another  spot  of  interest  on  our  way  back  to 


•  .-■  **.  - 


m£ 


THE    Al  I  IH  IR  s   GIANT 

From  a 


their    way     to    and 


camp  is  Frond  Glen.  This  is  a  very  pretty, 
secluded,  and  sheltered  spot  in  a  deep  ravine, 
about  a  mile  eastwards  of  the  elliptical  temple. 
A  chattering  stream  of  water  passes  through  it. 
Here,  again,  are  tree-ferns,  palms,  royal,  and 
maidenhair  ferns.  The  scenery  and  atmosphere 
of  Frond  Glen  are  said  to  be  somewhat  similar 
to  those  of  some  tracts  on  the  southern  slopes 
of  the  Himalayas. 

Farther  on  our  way  to  camp  is  the  "Mystic- 
Bar,"  known   to  the   Makalanga  as    the    Moje- 

jeje.  This  is  formed  by 
a  bar  of  aphite  crossing  a 
granite  glacis,  over  which 
runs  the  native  path.  The 
bar  is  at    right  angles  to 

Kthe  path.     At  either  end 
k^JiM  is  a  pile  of  stones  which 

show  evident  signs  of 
having  been  hammered 
upon  the  bar  for  genera- 
tions past.  A  native  on 
a  long  journey,  arriving 
at  one  of  these  bars,  will 
take  a  stone  from  the 
pile  on  one  side  and  with 
it  will  carefully  tap  the 
whole  length  of  the  bar, 
and  then  lay  down  the 
stone  on  the  pile  on  the 
opposite  side.  They 
think    that     by    so  doing 

«  their   backs  are  strength- 

ened for  the  journey,  and 
also  that  the  men  they 
are  going  to  see  may  be 
at  home,  that  the  food 
may  not  be  cooked  be- 
fore they  arrive,  that  their 
journey  may  be  successful, 
and  that  the  sun  may  not 
set  until  the  journey  is 
completed. 
Meanwhile,  the  camp  being  so  near,  Kumuri 
has  gone  on  ahead  to  order  the  mules  to  be 
inspanned  and  to  tell  the  hut-boys  to  prepare 
some  refreshment  foi  the  visitor  to  sustain  him 
on  his  journey.  Perhaps  there  may  be  no  other 
white-faced  visitor  to  Zimbabwe  for  another 
three  months. 

As  the  loud  crack  of  the  long  whip  sounds  in 
the  air  like  a  pistol-shot  and  the  team  of 
mules  starts  off  at  a  gallop,  the  writer  is  left  to 
his  ruiiis  and  his  natives,  to  content  himself 
with  his  explorations  in  this  long-buried  city 
and  his  weekly  mail  from  home. 


ATTENDANT    KUMUK1. 

Photo. 


"Lone    Star." 

THE   ADVENTURES   OF   A    FAMOUS   SCOU'I . 

As  Told  by  Himself  and  Set  Down  by  T.  R.   Porter,  01    Omaha,   N  ka. 

How    "Lone    Star"    was    sent    to    the   notorious  "  Hole-in-the-Wall "    country   in   Wyoming   to   kill  or 
capture  a  band  of  desperadoes,  and  what  happened  when  he  reached  the  outlaws' 

III.     AFTER    "SHACKNASTY    JIM. 


BOUT  a  year  after  I  had  rid  the 
Black  Hills  of  "  road-agents "  the 
outlaws  and  cut-throats  began  to 
gather  in  large  numbers  in  Wyoming, 
making  their  head-quarters  in  the 
notorious  "  Hole-in-the-Wall"  country.  From  this 
retreat  they  dashed  down  on  the  overland  stages, 
often  killing  the  drivers.  They  robbed  the 
passengers,  the  mails,  and  the  express  treasury 
safes  with  the  gold-dust  from  the  Black  Hills 
mines,  and  then  retreated  to  their  lair  before 
soldiers  could  be  sent  against  them.  Sometimes 
these  bandits  even  went  far  to  the  south,  where 
the  Union  Pacific  passed,  and  held  up  a  fast 
passenger-train.  In 
such  cases  the  ex- 
press safe  would  be 
dynamited,  mail- 
sacks  ripped  open, 
and,  at  times,  the 
passengers  lined  up 
and  robbed. 

After  an  escapade 
of  this  kind  the 
bandits  would  take 
to  the  mountains 
and  return  to  the 
inaccessible  Hole-in- 
the-Wall,  from  which 
they  could  not  be 
dislodged  by  a 
thousand  times  their 
number. 

The  leader  of  this 
daring  band  of  cut- 
throats was  one 
"Shacknasty  Jim," 
as  thorough  a  ruffian, 
thief,  and  murderer 
as  the  frontier  ever 
produced.  He  was 
a  wanton  murderer, 
and  had  been  known 
to  shoot  down  his 
victims  in  cold  blood. 
He  was  a  Mexican, 
and  was  said  to  be 
nearly  seven  feet  high. 

Vol.  xiv.— 62. 


Front  n]       the  entrance   ro  THE  -THE-WALL. 


"Commanding  general  wants  you  at  his  •   • 
said  an  orderly  at  Fort  Mead  to  me  one  d 

Ten   minutes   later  I  was   in    the    pi  of 

the  commander,  the  famous   Indian   fighter  and 
leader,  General  Crook. 

"These  outlaws  in  Central  Wyoming  art- 
causing  too  much  trouble,"  he  said,  bluntly. 
"Can  you  put  a  stop  to  it  and  capture  or  kill 
them  ?  How  many  men  do  you  want  and  when 
can  you  start  ?  " 

"I  don't  want  any  men  at  all  and  I  can  start 
at  once,"  I  answered.  "  As  to  what  I  can  do, 
that  remains  to  be  seen." 

Before  half  an  hour  had  passed  I  was  in  the 

saddle  and  had  left 
the  fort  behind  me, 
bound  on  as  danger- 
ous a  mission  as  I 
have  ever  und 
taken.  I  was  to  go 
into  the  den  of  the 
worst  set  of  men  in 
the  West,  and  either 
kill  or  capture  them 
— or  be  killed  my- 
self. 

The  head-quarters 
of    the    gang    was 
known   to  be  in   the 
Hole-in-the-Wall,  yet 
no   officer    had    ever 
been   to  that  remote 
ion.      Situated    in 
heart  of  tl 
Horn    Mountaii 
and    reputed 
so  arded     by 

ure  that  one  man 
with     a     W'iii' 

lid      prevent    any 
nun 

held    aloof.        In 
dition  white 

robbers    within,     the 


49° 


THE    WIDE     WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


Hole-in-the-Wall  lay  in  the  centre  of  the  hostile 
Indian  country,  and,  before  reaching  it,  it  was 
necessary  to  pass  through  a  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  of  territory  where  death,  in  the  shape  of 
bloodthirsty  Sioux  and  Cheyenne  warriors, 
literally  lay  in  wait,  causing  me  to  exercise 
extreme  care.  Moreover,  the  country  was  wild 
and  mountainous,  and  there  were  no  defined 
trails. 

I  knew  that  my  mission  was  a  desperate  one, 
and  that  only  by  the  greatest  tact  and  good  luck 
should  I  succeed  in  getting  out  of  it  alive. 
Nevertheless,  I  had  scouted  for  so  long,  had 
taken  so  many  desperate  chances  and  got  clear, 
that  I  did  not  hesitate.  I  was  determined  to 
arrest  "Shacknasty  Jim"  or  kill  him  in  the 
attempt. 

My  plan  was  to  fall  in  with  some  of  the  out- 
laws and,  posing  as'  a  fugitive  from  justice,  ask 
to  be  allowed  to  join  their  band.  At  the  first 
opportunity  I  intended  to  either  arrest  the 
leader  or  to  kill  him  and  then  fight  my  way 
through  to  the  mountains.  Having  thus  learned 
the  route  to  the  rendezvous,  it  was  my  intention 
to  later  return  there  with  a  company  of  soldiers 
and  break  up  the  infamous  gang. 

I  knew  the  general  direction  of 
the  Hole-in-the-Wall,  and  towards 
that  part  of  the  Big  Horn  range  I 
made  my  way.  Great  caution  was 
necessary,  as  I  was  passing  through 
a  country  thick  with  hostile 
Indians,  who  would  not  hesitate 
to  ambush  and  scalp  me  if  given 
an  opportunity.  As  for  the  bandits 
themselves,  I  had  no  fear  of  being 
ambushed  by  them.  So  near  their 
stronghold,  they  would  have  no 
fear  of  a  single  man.  They  might 
capture  and  later  kill  me,  but 
there  would  be  no  attempt  at  an 
ambush. 

On  the  third  day  out  I 
discovered  the  trail  of 
two  horses  which  had 
gone  in  the  same  direc 
tion  as  that  in  which  I 
was  travelling.  I  followed 
this  trail  for  some  hours 
and  in  time  came  to 
where  a  camp  had  been 
made.  From  tracks 
around  the  ashes  of  the 
fire,  I  knew  that  two 
white  men  had  camped 
there  within  the  last  few 
days. 

There   could   be    little 
doubt    as    to    who    the 


campers  were.  To  my  mind  they  were  members 
of  the  outlaw  band  for  which  I  was  searching, 
and,  if  so,  all  I  had  to  do  was  to  follow  their 
trail,  which  would  eventually  lead  me  to  their 
rendezvous. 

Through  deep,  winding  canyons  and  over 
rocky  ridges  I  followed  the  trail,  which  went  ever 
deeper  into  the  remote  fastnesses  of  the  moun- 
tains. At  noon  the  following  day  I  came 
within  sight  of  the  famous  Hole-in-the-Wall  itself, 
which  I  recognised  at  once  from  descriptions 
given  me  at  different  times  by  Indians. 

A  narrow  gateway,  seemingly  scarcely  wide 
enough  for  a  horseman  to  pass,  confronted  me. 
On  either  side  rose  perpendicular  walls  of  rock 
to  a  height  of  probably  a  thousand  feet.  Out 
from  this  narrow  cleft  there  flowed  a  small  stream 
of  water.  This  tunnel-like  passage,  I  had  been 
told,  was  the  only  entrance  into  a  large  valley 
surrounded  on  all  sides  by  inaccessible  cliffs 
hundreds  of  feet  high. 

Boldly  I  rode  towards  the  gate,  expecting 
momentarily  to  be  halted.  But  no  such 
challenge  came,  and  I  rode  into  the  entrance. 
So  secure  did  the  outlaws  feel,  apparently,  with 


BEFORE     MI  HRK    COU1.I) 
FIRE    I    GOT    IN    HALF- 
A-niOZEN    SHOTS." 


"LOXk.    STA 


a  hundred  and  fifty  miles  of  Indian  country 
between  them  and  the  whites,  that  they  had  not 
deemed  it  necessary  to  place  a  sentinel  at  the 
doorway  of  their  retreat. 

The  passage-way  was  perhaps  a  hundred  feet 
long,  winding  and  tortuous,  and  was  practically 
impregnable.  But  through  it  I  went,  un- 
challenged, and  presently  debouched  into  the 
Hole-in-the-Wall,  the  most  remarkable  place  in 
the  entire  Rocky  Mountains. 

I  beheld  a  great  hidden  valley,  hemmed  in 
on  all  sides  by  irregular  rocky  walls,  reaching 
hundreds  of  feet  skyward.  A  mountain  stream 
fell  over  the  high  precipice  in  a  great  cascade, 
and  the  valley  was  covered  in  places  with  dense 
woods.  The  place  was  indeed  an  ideal  one  for 
law-breakers  or  fugitives  from  justice.* 

With  my  field-glasses  I  carefully  scanned  the 
valley,  and  soon  located  two  men  who  were 
eating  lunch  at  the  foot  of  a  great  tree.  These 
men  saw  me  about  the  same  time  as  I  did  them, 
and  hastily  mounting  their  horses,  which  had 
been  grazing  near,  they  rode  toward  me.  As 
they  drew  closer,  I  recognised  them  from  the 
descriptions  which  had  been  given  me.  The 
gigantic  man  in  front  could  be  none  other  than 
the  redoubtable  "Shack- 
nasty  Jim  "  himself,  while 
his  companion  was  un- 
doubtedly his  chief  lieu 
tenant,  Bill  Cole. 

My  quarry  was  actually 
coming  to  me,  and  1 
determined  at  once  to 
either  capture  or  kill  them 
both  and  get  away  before 
the  other  members  of  the 
band  discovered  me.  The 
fact  that  the  two  men 
were  lunching  alone 
showed  me  they  were  a 
long  way  from  their  camp, 
which  I  afterwards  dis- 
covered was  at  the  oppo- 
site end  of  the  valley. 

As  the  men  rode  to- 
wards me  I  laid  my  plans, 
but  rode  on  unconcerned, 
apparently  gazing  atten- 
tively at  the  great  walls  ot 
the  valley.  They  were 
evidently  very  anxious  to 
know  why  a  stranger 
should  have  invaded  their 
stronghold,  but  continued 
to  advance  until  they  were 


*  To  this  day  the  Hole-in-th> 
remains     a     favourite     retreat      lor 
outlaws. 


within  twenty  y 

and  Jill)  rail''!  .  — 

•'  What  th' 

Instead  of  an       i  ing  I  w 
either  hand  and 
to  surrender,      i 
like  lightning   from   t! 
shelter  of  the  animals  pre| 

Before   either   could    fire,  in 

half-a-dozen  shots.     Jim'.-,  horse  f<  II  i 
first  shot,  and  his  master  wenl  down  with 
bullets  in  his  breast  a  second  lati 

Cole's  horse  became  fr:_  I  at   the   fil 

and  jumped  from  in  front  of  him,  l< 
exposed  to  my  fire.      The  man  lost  his  i 
this,  and    instead   of   shootii  which     h<- 

could    easily  have    done    while    1   wi 
with  his    companion,   he   ran    to    cover  bel 
Jim's    dead    horse.       Before     hi  hed     it. 

though,    I     sent    a    bullet     through    his    arm, 
and   his  weapon  dropped   to  the  ground, 
the    same  time  his  left    hand    went  up  and   he 
surrendered.     The  fight,  although  exciti 
lasted  only  about  half  a  mini: 

I  then  walked  over  to  where  Jim  lay,  intend- 
ing to  do  something  to  -top  tin-  fli  >w  of  bl< 


**& 


-•^k 


-*<,. 


492 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


his  wounds.  As  I  leaned  over  him,  however,  the 
old  scoundrel  suddenly  pulled  out  a  pistol  and 
fired  point-blank  into  my  face  !  But  he  was 
unnerved,  and,  fortunately  for  me,  the  bullet 
missed.  I  promptly  knocked  the  revolver  out 
of  his  hand,  and  took  good  care  to  remove 
his  other  gun  and  knife  from  his  reach  ere  I 
attended  to  his  hurts. 

This  done,  I  placed  the  wounded  Jim  on  my 
horse,  and,  after  disarming  Bill  Cole,  took  the 
two  discomfited  men  outside  the  entrance  to 
the  valley  and  handcuffed  them  together  to  a 
tree.  Then  I  went  back  into  the  "  Hole  "  to 
see  if  there  were  other  bandits  there. 

I  rode  for  ten  miles  down  the  valley  before 
I  found  any  traces  of  the  robbers.  Then  I  saw 
a  large  tent,  but  could  not 
discover  how  many  men  were 
within.  I  feared  to  ride  up 
without  seeing  my  oppo- 
nents ;  so  I  dismounted  and 
made  as  though  I  intended 
to  go  into  camp.  Just  after 
I  had  built  a  fire  three  tough- 
looking  characters  came  from 
the  tent,  mounted  their 
horses,  and  rode  towards  me. 
From  descriptions  I  recog- 
nised Tom  Lawton  and  Jack 
Hawkins,  two  of  the  outlaws, 
but  the  third  man  was  a 
stranger  to  me. 

I  allowed   the   three  men 
to  get  within  twenty  yards  of 
me,  and  then  I  whipped  out 
my  guns  and  demanded  their 
surrender.     Instead  of  com- 
plying, all  three  wheeled  their 
horses    and     attempted     to 
escape.     With    three    shots, 
however,  I  killed   the  three 
horses,  and  nothing  remained 
for   the   desperadoes   but  to 
surrender  or  fight.     They  were  1 
kind    to   surrender    so  easily,   a 
quickly  as    they  hit  the  ground   each 
man  rose  up  with  his  gun  ready  for  work. 

I  didn't  want  to  kill  them  ;  I  wanted  to 
make  prisoners  of  the  whole  bunch.  Tom 
Lawton  used  his  Winchester  instead  of  a  pistol, 
but  I  broke  his  arm  with  a  bullet  before  he  had 
a  chance  to  fire  the  gun. 

Then  I  quickly  got  behind  a  pine  tree,  while 
the  bandits  took  refuge  behind  the  carcasses  of 
their  dead  horses.  We  were  only  a  few  yards  apart, 
and  every  time  a  part  of  my  clothing  showed— 
and  my  tree  was  a  small  one,  not  half  large  enough 
for  my  comfort — it  was  promptly  riddled  with 
three  bullets,  for  the  men  were  dead  shots. 


I  was  in  a  desperate  fix,  I  knew,  but  I  was 
determined  to  get  those  men.  They  couldn't 
get  away  any  more  than  I  could,  but  they  kept 
wasting  ammunition,  while  I  saved  mine. 
Finally  Jack  Hawkins  called  out  : — 

"  See  here,  pardner,"  he  said  ;  "  you  let  us 
go  and  we'll  let  you  go.  Even  if  we  can't  get 
away,  neither  can  you." 

"  You  fellows  must  surrender,"  I  answered, 
"or  I'll  kill  you  all  three.  I  came  after 
you  and  I'm  going  to  have  you.  You  might 
just  as  well  lay  down  your  guns  and  come 
in." 

"  We'll  just  show  you,"  answered  Hawkins, 
enraged  at  my  audacity.  Then  I  heard  them 
planning  a  rush   at  my  tree,   expecting   in    the 


HE    DROPPED    WITH    A    BULLET   THKOUGH    HIS    HEAR]. 

resulting  mix-up  to  get  me  excited  and  so 
manage  to  kill  me. 

Suddenly,  with  a  whoop  and  a  hail  of  lead,  all 
three  men  jumped  from  behind  the  dead  horses 
and  started  for  me  at  a  run.  Two  of  them 
carried  a  revolver  in  either  hand,  while  the 
wounded  Lawton  used  only  one,  and  all  five 
guns  were  working  as  fast  as  they  could  fire. 

Jack  Hawkins's  second  leap  was  his  last  one, 
for  he  dropped  with  a  bullet  through  his  heart. 


"LONE    STAR. 


As  Hawkins  fell  dead  I  stepped  from  behind 
my  tree  and  covered  the  other  two  bandits,  who 
were  only  a  few  yards  away  by  this  time.  They 
hesitated,  lost  their  nerve,  and  promptly  dropped 
their  guns  and  surrendered. 

After  handcuffing  the  pair  of  them  to  a  tree, 
I  mounted  my  horse  and  rode  into  the  country 


pelled   t<>  walk   the  entir<  At    night 

I  tied  the  handcuffi  d   men  t< 

watch  over  them  as  Ion  | 

warned   them   that  if  eith 

attempt    u,   ,  scape    1    would   kill    1 

further  ado. 

<  me  week  after  the  eventful  afi 


'  THE   CAPTI1 

\VH    II. E  I 


beyond  the  tent.  Three  miles  away  I  discovered 
two  more  men,  but  they  succeeding  in  eluding 
me. 

Returning  to  where  I  had  left  Lawton  and 
his  comrade  chained  to  the  tree,  I  handcuffed 
them  together  and  drove  them  before  me  out 
through  the  narrow  entrance  of  the  valley,  to 
the  place  where  I  had  left  "  Shacknasty  Jim  "  and 
Bill  Cole.  There  I  found  that  Jim  had  died  of 
his  wounds  during  my  absence. 

Forcing  his  friends  to  dig  a  shallow  grave,  we 
buried  the  outlaw  leader,  and  with  the  three 
surviving  bandits  handcuffed  together  and 
driven  before  me  I  started  for  the  fort,  one 
hundred  and  fifty  miles  away.  Belon 
leaving  the  "  Hole,"  I  had  searched  for  horses 
but  had  found  none,  so  the  captives  were  com 


I  had'eaptured  tin-  band  we  .  nt<  red  tl      foi 

curious-lookini;  party.      The  hand 

were    ragged,   footsore,   and    weary,  ' 

nearly  dead   for  want   ol    sl<  ep.     Thi 

wire  turned  over  to  the  military  autl 

1     believe    wen     afterwan 

numberless  crimes. 

After  a    much  ne<  i 
soldiers  out   to  ilx-   "  Hole, 
laws  had  taken  the  alai 
and  gone  to  the   "  Rol 
North-Western  I 
the  log  cabins  which  the  i 
and  destroyed  then  corral 
not    for   several    yi 

return  to  their  old   haunts  in   the   "  I  he- 

Wall." 


A  SOUTH    SEA    REPUBLIC. 


By  Beatrice  Grimshaw. 


An  account  of   a  visit  to  a  curious  little  island   community  far    out    in    the    Pacific,  where    the    people 
live  in  a  state  of  idyllic  happiness  and  where  months  may  pass  without  the  sight   of  a  sail. 


HREE  HUNDRED  miles  from  any- 
where, and  thousands  of  miles  from 
anywhere  that  counts,  lies  Savage 
Island,  most  solitary  of  all  the  coral 
lands  of  the  South  Pacific. 
It  is  a  big  island — nearly  forty  miles  round— 

and    it    supports  a    native    population    of   over 

four  thousand,  besides  some  thirty  white  traders, 

missionaries,     and    Government    officials.    :  Its 

shape  is  that  of  an  enormous  table.     On  every 

side  the  grimmest  and  most  forbidding  of  lofty 

cliffs  fortify  its  approaches ;  here  and  there,  at 

intervals  of  many   miles,   there  is  a 

shallow     break    in     the    sharp   grey 

walls,  where   native 

canoes   may    be 

dragged     down    to 

the  sea,  and  boats 

from   visiting   ships 

may  find  a  chance 

of  landing  their 

passengers,  in  very 

calm    weather.      In 

rough    weather,    or 

even  when    a   high 

tide  and  a  southerly 

swell    combine    to 

make    a    frill    of 

foam    about    the 

reef,    communi- 
cation   of   any 

kind  is  impossible. 

There    is     not   the 

ghost  of  a  harbour, 

and      immediately 

beyond    the    sharp 

girdle  of  encircling 

coral    reef   that 

guards    the    island 

like      a     mediaeval 

cheval  de  /rise  the 

sea  drops  down  to 

black    depths    in 

which  few  captains 

care    to    cast    an 

anchor. 


VIEW  FROM    THE   ONE   STREET   OF    AI.OF 
THE   CAPITAL. 
From    a    Photo. 


Anyone  who  visits  Savage  Island  must  wait 
his  time  for  a  fine  day,  hanging  about  in  the 
offing  until  things  look  pleasant  enough,  and 
then  put  off  from  his  ship  in  a  boat  to  be  rowed 
up  to  and  through  a  crack  some  three  yards 
wide  in  the  reef,  and  poise  himself  perilously  on 
the  dancing  gunwale  until  the  rushing  and  re- 
treating surges  allow  him  to  clutch  safely  at  a 
skeleton  iron  ladder,  which  climbs  up  to  a 
straddle-legged  wharf  as  big  as  a  schoolroom 
dining-table.  He  can  then  make  his  way  up  a 
staircase  cut  in  the  rough  rock  of  the  cliff,  and 
find  himself  in  Alofi,  the  capital 
of  Savage  Island.  Alofi  is  nothing 
but  a  string  of  white-washed,  palm- 
thatched  huts  running  along  one 
side  of  a  wide,  grassy,  cocoanut 
avenue,  and  adorned  here  and 
there  by  traders'  houses,  creepered 
and  verandaed.  But 
it  is  a  Berlin,  a  Paris, 
compared  with  the 
Alofi  of  old  times- 
fifty  years  ago  — and 
the  wild -looking 
native  men  and 
women  are  cooing 
doves  compared 
with  their  blood- 
thirsty grand- 
fathers. Two 
generations  ago 
visitors  to 
•  Savage  Island 
were  promptly 
d  i  s  c  o  u  raged 
with  clubs  and 
flights  of  spears 
from  repeating 
the  call.  Even 
a  native  who 
had  wandered 
off  to  other 
islands  was 
clubbed  if  he 
tried    to   return, 


A    SOUTH     SKA     REPUBLIC 


495 


A   SAVAGE    ISLAND   COAST    V.CENE. 

From  a  Photo. 

lest  he  might  introduce  strange  diseases.  Cap- 
tain Cook  attempted  to  land,  but  was  driven  away 
by  violence  and  did  not  return  to  try  again. 

For  these  reasons, 
and  also  because  of 
the  loneliness  and 
inaccessibility  of  the 
place,  the  Savage 
Islanders  have 
always  been  entirely 
different  from  the 
rest  of  the  Pacific. 
The  typical  "  Kan- 
aka "  is  straight- 
haired,  light  brown 
in  colour,  mild  and 
gentle  and  generous 
in  disposition, 
ready  to  welcome 
strangers  and  feast 
them  hospitably. 
He  is  aristocratic 
to  the  backbone  in 
his  ideas,  and  almost 
always  has  a  native 
class  of  nobles  and 
princes,  culminating 
in  a  hereditary  King. 


The     Savage     Islander    i  ; 

haired,     and  _  generally     a    darki 
in  colour.    His  mam 
and  he  gives  nothing  without  obtaini 
heavy    pri<  e   for   it.       II. 
nobles,   or   prii 
vant     any.       Th< 
head   of  tli  .    who  i 

certain    amount   of   mild 
and  is  often  referred  to  King 

by  white  visitors.     Bui  not 

a   King  in  any  sense  of  the  •■ 
The  office  is  not  hereditary,  the 
head  of  the  State,   or    Pi 
as  we  may  fairly  call    him,   being 
elected   by  a   number  of  natives 
who  occupy  a  position  similar  to 
that  of  American  senators. 
ings  of  the  island  Senate  arc  held 
at    irregular    intervals  ;    and     the 
President,  together  with  the  British 
Resident  Commissioner,  takes  an 
important  part  in  the  debates. 

These   are   very   formal   affairs. 
The     brown    senators,    who    live, 
each    in    his    own   village,    in    the 
utmost  simplicity  of  manners  and 
attire,  dress  themselves  up  for  the 
day  in  full  suits  of  European  cloth- 
ing,  very  heavy  and   hot,  instead 
of  the  light  and  comfortable  cotton 
kilt  they  generally  wear.     They  travel  into  Alofi 
and  join  the  local  members  on  the  green  K 
the  public  hall — -generally  used  as  a  school  li"> 


CAFTAIN  COOK'S  BAV,  WHERE  THE  C, 


LVIGATORW/ 

From  a  Phot 


496 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


THE  PRESIDENT   AND    HIS   CONGKESS   OF    SENATORS. 

From  a  Photo. 


President  Tongia  joins  them,  the  British 
Resident  comes  also,  and  for  hour  after  hour, 
inside  the  great,  cool  hall,  with  its  matted 
floor  and  many  open  window-embrasures,  the 
talk  goes  on.  This  road  is  to  be 
made,  that  banyan  tree  is  to  be 
removed,  regulation  pig-sties  are  to 
be  built  in  such  a  village,  petitions 
are  to  be  sent  up  to  New  Zealand 
about  the  tax  on  tobacco  —  and 
so  on,  and  so  on.  The  President 
is  a  tough  old  man  ;  he  has  his  say 
on  most  questions,  and  it  is  not  con- 
sidered generally  good  for  health  or 
business  to  oppose  him  too  much ; 
but  of  Royal  dignity  he  has,  and  asks 
for,  none. 

There  is  something  quite  American 
in  the  history  of  Tongia's  elevation, 
some  six  years  ago.  He  had  acted 
as  Vice-President  to  the  late  head  of 
the  State  ;  and  when  the  latter  died 
he  calmly  assumed  the  reins  without 
going  through  the  formality  of  an 
election.  This  was  not  the  usual 
custom,  and  some  of  the  senators 
remonstrated.  Tongia  told  them, 
however,  that  he  was  in  the  right, 
and  meant  to  stay  on.  When  the 
captain  of  a  ship  died  on  a  voyage, 
did  not  his  chief  mate  take  over 
command  ?  The  cases  were  exactly 
parallel,  to  his  mind.     This  argument 


pleased  the  sena- 
tors, who  had  most 
of  them  been  to 
sea,  and  Tongia 
was  allowed  to  re- 
tain his  seat,  the 
objectors  calming 
themselves  with 
the  thought  of  the 
President's  age — he 
was  well  over  eighty 
at  that  time.  "  He 
is  only  the  stump 
of  a  torch,"  they 
said;  "he  will 
soon  burn  out." 
But  the  stump  is 
burning  yet,  and 
shows  no  symptoms 
of  extinction. 
Tongia  married  a 
pretty  young  girl 
soon  after  his 
"  election,"  settled 
down  in  the  Presi- 
dential house  —  a 
whitewashed  cottage  with  a  palm-thatch  roof — 
and  seems  likely  to  outlast  many  of  his  former 
opponents. 

A  year  or  two  ago  a  British  man-of-war  called 


PRESIDENT   TONGIA    AND    HIS    WIFE. 

From   a   Photo, 


A    SOUTH    SEA    REPUBLIC. 


»"7 


at  Savage  Island  and  the  President  was  invited 
to  come  and  see  over  the  ship.  His  wife 
came  with  him  to  Alofi,  splendidly  attired  in  a 
silk  dress,  a  wreath,  and  boots.  These  latter 
ornaments,  however,  she  only  retained  until  the 
boat  that  took  them  out  touched  the  side  of  the 
vessel ;  when  she  pulled  off  her  boots  and 
handed  them  up  the  accommodation  ladder. 
The  grinning  "Jacks"  received  them  and  passed 
them  along  the  deck,  and  the  lady  explained  to 
the  interpreter  who  accompanied  her  party  that 
she  was  much  too  good  a  housewife  to  wear 
boots  on  such  a  clean  floor!  The  captain 
showed  the  old  President  and  his  wife  all  over 
the  ship.  Tongia  admired  everything,  and 
especially  asked  to  be  shown  the  chart-room 
a  second  time.  He  looked  round  it  with 
delighted  wonder,  and  then  said  to  the  inter- 
preter, "  Tell  the  captain  I,  Tongia,  think  this 
the  very  finest  kitchen  I  ever  saw  ! "  It  was 
time  to  leave  then,  and  the  President  was  seen  to 
be  fumbling  in  the  pockets  of  his  unaccustomed 
clothes.  "  What  do  you  want  ? "  asked  the 
interpreter.  "  I  want,"  said  Tongia,  with  dignity, 
"  to  find  a  dollar,  so  that  I  can  recompense  the 
captain  for  giving  me  this  entertainment  !  " 

How  does  the  island  progress  under  this  form 
of  government  ?    Excellently.    War  is  a  forgotten 
trouble  ;  the  people  are  contented,  orderly,  in- 
dustrious,   and   peaceful. 
Crime    is   unknown,    and 
even  small  misdemeanours 
are  so  rare  that  the  delin- 
quencies of  the  island  do 
not  produce  enough  pri- 
soners  to  keep 
the     Residency 
garden  weeded. 
There  is   no 
prison    on    the 
island  ;  the  only 
punishment     is 
compulsory 
weeding  or  road- 
making. 

Quaint,  re 
mote,  and  un- 
like every  other 
Pacific  island, 
Savage  Island 
has  many 
charms  of  its 


own.        It    is   exquisitely    pretl 
of     picturesque    gi  ral     rock,  wn 

here  and  there  bj 
fallen    to   decay.     Tl. 
peaks    that    still    hold    o  linst    t" 

wreathed  all  over   with    rich, 
vines.     Scarlet  hibiscus  blaa 
side,    close    to    the  golden    citron   ti 
laden  with  m  of  fruil  ;  fine  I  Minna 

quaint,     richly -fruited      "mammy    app  in 

scores   and    hundred        great    beds    ol 
and  purple-coloured  "-foliage   plants";  blazing 
poinsettias  ;    splendid   oranges,   cocoanir 
limes.     The   climate    is    perfect     nevei    <  •■ 
sive  in  heat,   with   many  days    "I    clear,  h 
brilliant    weather    in    tin     '•■'■'.•!       season,    that 
almost  resembles  a  soft   northern   spring.      The 
island  is  exceedingly  lonely,  and   that,  perhaps, 
is   one    of    its   greatest    charms.      I  ror   several 
months  at  a  time   not   even  a  distant   sail  will 
break  the  monotony  of  the  changeless  blu< 
Then  some   morning  a  wild   yell  spreads  from 
cliff  to   cliff  all   round   the   island;  the   natives 
gather  in  crowds  at  Alofi,  and  the  whole  place 
is   in   a  ferment.     A  sail  !   a  sail  !     An  island 
schooner  is  coming  in  from  Auckland — a  cranky 
little    cargo    steamer    has    puffed    across    from 
Samoa,    three    hundred    miles   away— perhaps 
even  a  pleasure  yacht  from  San  I  rancisco  has 

vi  ntured  down  so  far. 
Ihc  natives  hasten  to 
oil  their  hair,  dress  it 
with  flowers,  and  put 
on  gaudy  clothes :  the 
white  traders  rush  for 
clean  duck  suits. 
Visito: 

\  \t  day,  or  the 
day  after,  tin-  ship 
is  i        Sun- 

day clothes  go  b 
into  their  cam  pi 
wood      DO  the 

island  curios  are  put 
away    foi    another 

ell 

cliffs  are   Ion 

still     again.     5 
Island 

lif 
publi< 


A   NATIVE   ■ 

Front  "  I 


Vol.  xiv.—  63. 


THE    ADVENTURES    OF    "  JACKO." 


By  Oliver  E.  Durham. 

When    a   boy  at   sea  the   author   was   anxious   to   bring    back   a   wild   animal   with    which  to   astonish 

the  good  folks  at  home.      He   accordingly  smuggled  a  wallaby  on  board    his  ship,  and   here  recounts 

the  moving  incidents  which  befell  during   his  pet's  all  too  brief  career. 


T  the  time  when  the  events  which 
are  here  set  down  happened  I  was 
a  boy  on  the  large  passenger  liner 
Orizaba,  trading  between  England 
and  Australia,  calling  at  several  other 
places  on  the  way  out  and  home.  I  had  long 
desired  to  take  home  some  memento  of  my 
travels  which  would  at  once  please  my  relations 
and  be  the  envy  of  my  boyish  friends. 

So,  with  the  hopefulness  of  youth,  I  had 
boasted  to  my  friends  that  on  my  next  voyage 
I  would  bring  home  something  wonderful  in  the 
animal  line.  At  the  time  I  made  the  boast  I 
had  no  very  definite  idea  what  kind  of  animal 
I  meant — a  young  lion,  a  tiger,  or  a  bear  would  do 
equally  well.  Whenever  I  got  a  chance  to  go 
ashore  anywhere  I  was  on  the  look-out  to  secure 
some  wild  animal,  but  I  could  find  nothing 
suitable  until  we  got  to  Sydney.  While  roaming 
about  there  I  visited  all  the  curio  and  animal 
dealers,  but  found  that  it  was  impos- 
sible to  buy  even  a  small  "wild  beast," 
such  as  I  wanted,  save  at  a  price  far 
above  my  slender  means.  By  this  time 
my  money  was  getting  low,  as  sailors' 
money  generally  does  when  ashore, 
until  I  found  that  I  had  just  twelve 
shillings  left. 

I  was  in  despair  at  the  thought  of 
having  to  go  home  without  fulfilling  my 
boast,  until  one  day,  while  paying  my 
usual  round  of  visits  to  the  animal 
dealers,  I  saw  some  kangaroos  come  in. 
At  once  I  was  struck  with  an  idea.  A 
kangaroo  would  be  an  excellent  sub- 
stitute for  the  "  wild  beast "  I  had 
talked  about  so  glibly.  So  I  asked 
the  price  of  them. 

"  Five  pounds,"  said  the  dealer, 
pointing  to  a  fine  large  specimen.  My 
heart  sank  within  me,  and  sadly  I  told 
him  that  the  price  was  far  too  much. 

He  then  informed  me  he  had  a 
young  kangaroo  that  he  would  sell  me 
for  a  sovereign.  After  a  good  deal  of 
haggling,  interspersed  with  the  usual 
protests  on  the  dealer's  part,  I  bought 
the  animal  for  ten  shillings,  the  man 
agreeing  to  keep  it  until  the  day  we 
sailed.  The  remaining  two  shillings 
of     my     money     I     spent     in     buying 


maize,  etc.,  with  which  to  feed  my  new  pet  on 
the  voyage  home.  I  went  back  to  the  ship  in 
high  spirits,  for  I  was  now  the  possessor  of  a 
real  "wild  animal,"  which  could  not  fail  to 
cause  a  vast  sensation  at  home. 

In  the  joy  of  my  heart  I  confided  the  news  to 
some  of  my  shipmates,  who  were  highly  amused. 
At  last,  however,  one  of  them  looked  grave. 

"  How  are  you  going  to  get  it  aboard  ?  "  he 
said. 

This  was  a  poser  I  could  not  answer,  fur  on 
these  large  liners  the  crew  are  not  allowed  to 
take  home  pets  in  the  shape  of  animals,  unless 
they  pay  freight  on  them  and  give  them  into 
the  charge  of  the  butcher  of  the  ship  for  him 
to  look  after  during  the  voyage.  This  I  was 
not  prepared  to  do. 

My  trouble  was  not  to  get  ashore,  as  we  were 
in  the  habit  of  going  ashore  every  evening  while 
in  port,  but  rather  how  to  get  on  board  again 


"'  [     BOUGHT    THE    ANIMAL    FOR    TF.N    SHILLINGS. 


THE    ADVENTURES    <>l-     "JACKO 


with  the  kangaroo,  as  I  should 
undoubtedly  be  stopped  by  the 
unsympathetic  officer  of  the 
watch  and  my  cherished  pet  be 
thrown  overboard. 

We  were  leaving  Sydney  the 
next  morning,  so  had  not 
long  to  perfect  our  plans.  As 
is  usually  the  case  with  a  sailor, 
however,  the  difficulty  was  soon 
disposed  of  after  talking  the  mat- 
ter over  with  the  crew  for'ard. 

A  shipmate  of  about  my  own 
age  said  he  would  see  me 
through  with  it,  so  we  went 
ashore  to  get  the  kangaroo. 
Having  obtained  the  animal  and 
placed  him  securely  in  a  bag, 
with  his  food  supply  in  another 
bag,  we  waited  about  until  it 
was  dark  ere  beginning  out- 
return  journey  to  the  ship. 

Arriving  at    the  jetty,  we  cast  about  us  for  a 
means  of  getting   out  to  the  vessel  unobserved. 


MK.   ULIVtK    t.    U^KrlAM     AS    Hfc.    WAS    Al 
TIME   OF    THIS   STORY. 
From  a  Photo. 


then    a    horrible    death 
havi  '1  us  i  n 

but    from    I 
ks     which      in 
Harbour.       But    our    luck    v. 
good  that  night,  and 
to  the  ship 
was  the  work  of  a  m 
me    to    swarm    quietly    up    I 
chain  and  pass  a  line  down  to 
my  shipmate.     To  this  he  made 
secure,   first    the    kai  rid 

then  the  bag  of  corn,  and  both 
were  pulled  up  and  laid  on  the 
deck.    Then  I  descended  to  the 
raft    again    and   we    began    our 
return     journey    to     the     jetty, 
which  we  reached  without   m 
hap.    In  a  few  moments  v. 
coming     innocently    over     the 
gangway  in  the  usual  manner. 
We  took  the  bags  into  the  fo  i  show 

our   prize,  but   as   soon   as    I    turned    out    my 


We  had  not  sufficient  money  left  between  us  to  kangaroo  there  was  a  wild  shout  of  laughter 
engage  a  boatman  to  row  us  to  the  ship,  and  from  the  crew.  Somewhat  piqued,  I  inquired 
the  only  thing  we  could  find  in  the  boat  line        the  cause  of  their  mirth,  and  they  then  told  me 


was  a  painter's  raft, 
used  when  painting 
the  sides  of  vessels 
as  they  lie  in  har- 
bour. This  raft 
was  shaped  almost 
like  a  packing  case, 
measuring  about 
nine  feet  long  by 
five  feet  wide,  with 
a  flat  boarded  top, 
standing  about 
twelve  inches  out 
of  the  water.  It  was 
in  this  cranky,  un- 
manageable craft 
that  we  two  boys 
decided  to  go  out 
to  the  ship.  We 
accordingly  clam- 
bered on  board 
and  commenced 
our  voyage. 

As  we  paddled 
the  raft  along  we 
enjoyed  this  clan- 
destine voyage  im- 
mensely, but  I  have 
often  thought  since 
what  a  foolhardy 
exploit  it  was.  It 
would   have   taken 


r— * 


>"■»>»>.,  . 

^^^M 

^ 

t 

J 

that    I    had    b 
sold    by  a  Sydney 
land  -  shark.        My 
prize    was    not    a 
kangaroo     at     all, 
but  was  an  old  rock 
wallaby  !      I     had 
never   heard  of   a 
wallaby   befoi 
I  would  not  I"  I 
them   till    they 
plained  that  a  wal 
laby  was  a  smaller 
member    of    the 
kangaroo    tri 
standing   in  much 
the  tion 

to  them 
doi 

the 

laby, 

wild 


WAS  THE  WOKK   OK  A  MOMKN  I 


;oo 


THE    WIDE     WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


We  next  debated  among  ourselves  where  I 
was  to  keep  the  animal.  I  wanted  to  house  it 
in  the  fo'c's'le ;  but  this  my  shipmates  would 
not  hear  of,  so  we  decided  it  must  be  kept  on 
deck.  I  did  some  work  for  the  storekeeper  the 
next  day,  and  in  return,  at  my  request,  he  gave 
me  an  empty  apple-barrel.  This  we  placed  in 
an  obscure  corner  against  the  lamp-room,  where 
it  would  be  sheltered  from  the  wind  and  at  the 
same  time  give  the  animal  the  benefit  of  the 
warm  sun. 

I  made  a  sin  net  collar  and  chain  from  some 
rope  yarn,  and  with  this  we  tied  "  my  mena- 
gerie," as  the  men  called  the  animal,  up  to  his 
barrel  like  a  dog  to  his  kennel. 

For  the  first  day  or  two  he  would  not  eat,  but 
would  rave  and  tear  at  anyone  who  went  near 
him,  at  the  same  time  making  a  peculiar  hissing 
noise  almost  like  a  monkey- 
In  a  few  days,  however,  Mr.  Wallaby  pulled 
himself  together  and  began  to  eat  the  food  I 
gave  him,  even  condescending  to  let  me  stroke 
him,  at  which  I  was  vastly  pleased. 

It  was  about  the  fifth  day  out  of  Sydney  that 
my  troubles  began. 

Somehow  Jacko,  as  the  wallaby  was  now 
called,  got  loose.  One  of  the  crew,  seeing  him, 
shouted  at  him,  which  scared  poor  Jacko  nearly 
out  of  his  wits,  and  he  began  a  mad  career  of 
springs  and  jumps  up  and  down  the  deck.  We 
were  laughing  so  much  at  his  surprising  antics 
that  it  was  some 
time  before  we 
could  catch  him  ; 


until     we    caught     him    and    tied    him 


more 
up. 

Twice  more  did  this  happen,  until  I  was  in 
despair.  It  seemed  as  though  the  mischievous 
firemen  were  in  league  against  me,  for  no  sooner 
had  I  gone  below  than  I  was  awakened  with 
the  cry,  "  Boy,  your  blessed  wallaby  is  adrift 
—and  tired  and  cross  I  had  to  go 
the  difficult   performance   of  catching 


again  !  "• 
through 


everyone 


in  fact, 
on  the  ship  who 
saw  him  was 
convulsed  with 
laughter  at  the 
way  the  little 
animal  bounded 
about.  Finally 
we  secured  and 
carried  him  back 
to  his  barrel, 
fastening  him 
up  this  time  with 
a  stronger  line. 
But  our  troubles 
were  not  ended 
yet.  Next  day 
some  of  the  fire- 
men, pining  for 
a  little  excite- 
ment, cut  Jacko's 
string  again, 
and  the  whole 
pantomime  was 
enacted     once 


'  Jlfc.    3fc.h-.UkU    liAKDkk 


him. 

The  climax  was  reached  just  after  lunch  one 
afternoon.  During  my  watch  below  I  was 
awakened  by  the  too-familiar  cry,  "  Boy,  your 
wallaby's  adrift!"  On  getting  out  of  my  bunk  I 
found  the  whole  of  the  crew  laughing  up- 
roariously. Calling  my  chum  we  started  in 
chase  once  more. 

We  went  up  and  down  the  deck  for  perhaps 
a  quarter  of  an  hour,  trying  in  vain  to  get  near 
the  elusive  little  animal,  who  by  this  time  was 
completely  off  his  head  with  fear  of  the  pas- 
sengers and  crew,  who  were  hugely  enjoying  the 
performance. 

He  seemed  harder  to  catch  this  time  than 
ever,  but  at  last  we  cornered  him  at  the  forepart 
of  the  first  saloon.  We  were  just  congratulating 
ourselves  on  the  termination  of  the  struggle 
when  up  from  the  stokehold  came  the  watch  of 
firemen,  who,  as  soon  as  they  saw  Jacko,  com- 
menced to  shout.  The  place  where  we  were 
was  the  alley-way  of  the  ship,  a  passage  only  about 

five  feet  wide, 
bounded  on  the 
one  hand  by  the 
first  saloon  and 
on  the  other 
hand  by  the  bul- 
warks. We  two 
boys  were  at  one 
end  and  the  fire- 
men rapidly 
advancing  up  the 
other,  so  poor 
Jacko  was  fairly 
trapped. 

As  the  laugh- 
ing firemen  ap- 
proached the 
wallaby  looked 
from  one  foe  to 
the  other  as 
though  at  a  loss 
what  to  do. 
Then,  turning 
quickly,  he  made 
a  spring,  disap- 
pearing through 
the  open  port 
into  the  saloon. 


■■ffii.il     ■ 

i'u  uilii    mis   iime 


I'llAN    fc-Vl-.K. 


THE    ADVENTURED    OF     "JACKO 


-    i 


It  all  happened  so 
quickly,  and  we  were  so 
surprised,  that  for  a 
moment  or  two  we  simply 
stood  and  looked  help- 
lessly at  one  another. 
But  we  were  rudely 
aroused  by  the  sound  of  a 
piercing  feminine  scream, 
and  the  deeper  voice  of  a 
man,  inquiring  in  a  voice 
of  thunder,  "  What  the 
deuce  is  that  ?  " 

Pandemonium  seemed 
to  be  let  loose  in  the 
saloon.  Women  screamed 
and  overturned  their 
chairs  ;  startled  men  rose 
to  their  feet  asking  ridicu- 
lous questions  ;  while  the 
frightened  wallaby 
hounded  this  way  and 
that,  thoroughly  scared  by 
the  noise. 

Loud  above  the  uproar 
sounded  the  voice  of  the 
skipper,      demanding     to 

know  what  was  the  matter,  to  whom  the  animal 
belonged,  and  how  it  came  to  be  in  the  saloon. 

Quaking  in  our  shoes,  we  boys  were  sent  for 
to  see  the  captain,  but  he  told  us  to  go  and 
catch  the  wallaby  and  come  to  him  afterwards. 
We  went  down  into  that  saloon  in  a  very  unhappy 
frame  of  mind.  We  expected  to  find  Jacko 
badly  hurt,  as  the  drop  from  the  port  to  the 
floor  of  the  saloon  was  quite  fifteen  feet,  but 
there  he  sat  quite  uninjured,  though  looking  the 
picture  of  misery.  By  this  time  the  frightened 
ladies  had  cleared  out,  and  there  were  only 
some  gentlemen  and  stewards  left  in  the  saloon. 
They,  however,  watched  us  with  great  amuse- 
ment. Desperately  we  went  to  work  to  catch 
the  little  beggar,  but  it  was  evident  the  fall  had 
not  improved  his  temper ;  he  was  like  a  mad 
thing.  From  one  place  to  another  he  hopped 
and  jumped — on  tables,  over  chairs,  across 
settees,  even  on  the  piano  and  organ  he  went, 
smashing  everything  breakable  that  he  came 
across  in  his  mad  career. 

By  this  time  everybody  in  the  saloon  was 
roaring  with  laughter,  but  we  were  thinking  of 
our  coming  interview  with  the  irate  skipper, 
and  that  kept  us  serious  enough,  although  the 
situation  was  sufficiently  funny  to  make  anyone 
laugh. 

At    last,    after    quite    an     hour's    chase,    we 


THE    FRIGHTENED    WALLABY    BOUNDED    Oils    WAV    AM. 


managed  to  secure  the  wallaby,  and  carried  him 
back— though  not  in  triumph— to  his  barrel. 

Then,  with  our  hearts  in  our  mouths,  we 
went  to  see  the  captain,  who  was  in  a  great  r. 
He  gave  us  a  good  lecture,  and  inquired,  with 
biting  sarcasm,  what  we  meant  by  turning  his 
ship  into  a  menagerie.  He  wound  up  by  telling 
us  to  go,  saying  he  would  see  into  the  matter, 
which  gave  us  endless  cause  for  wild  conjectures. 

We  were  soon  to  know  his  meaning.  When 
I  went  on  deck  the  next  morning  at  eight  bells 
(four  o'clock)  I  was  astonished  at  not  being  able 
to  find  either  Jacko  or  his  barrel.  After  a  fruit- 
less search  all  over  the  place  I  began  to  suspect 
foul  play,  and  asked  my  shipmates  about  it.  (  me 
and  all  denied  any  knowledge  <  »f  the  matter,  saying 
that  the  animal  must  have  jumped  overboard. 

When  I  pressed  them,  however,  they  admitted 
pitching  the  barrel  overboard  about  five  bells  in 
the  middle  watch  (half-past  two),  and  presently 
it  leaked   out  that  orders   had    b  to 

throw  the  troublesome  animal  overboard  that 
night.  That  was  all  I  could  ever  ascertain  con- 
cerning my  pet's  fate.  Poor  Jacko  !  Although 
his  life  at  sea  was  so  short  it  was  crowded  with 
adventure,  and  he  died  a  true  sailoi  i  by 

going  down  with  his  ship,  the  barrel. 

And  so  I  did  not  take  a  "  wild  beast  "  home 
after  all. 


lite  tfatiofed  JCoiizs  at  UpfyoIIavcl 


Our  readers  must  form  their  own  conclusions  as  to  whether  this  is  a  ghost  story  or  not.  It  is  a 
straightforward  account,  put  together  on  the  spot,  of  the  extraordinary  phenomena  which  have  been 
observed  almost  nightly  in  an  ancient  house  at  Upholland,  Lancashire.  "  The  occurrences  described 
are  matters  of  common  knowledge  in  the  district,"  says  the  writer,  "  and  the  testimony  of  the 
investigators  seems  above  suspicion.     What  is  one   to  think  ?  " 

OME  of  the  strangest  mani- 
festations ever  put  on  record 
have  been  taking  place  for 
weeks  past  —  and,  at  the 
time    of    writing,     are     still 

taking  place — in  the  ancient,  old-world, 

abbey    village    of    Upholland,    situated 

some   four   miles   west  of  Wigan,    the 

coalopolis  of  Lancashire.     The  village 

of  Upholland  is  a  place  that  belongs  to 

the   past.     The   houses   have  crooked, 

bulging    gables  and    fortress-like   walls, 

and  the  streets,  narrow  and  winding,  are 

so    steep    that    in   some    parts    a  horse 

could  not  drag  an  empty  cart  up  their 

precipitous   ascents.       If   one   were    to 

search    England    through    it    would   be 

impossible  to  find  a  more  ideal  spot  for 

the  uncanny  performances  which  have 

been  mystifying  the  countryside  for  so 

long  a  time. 

The   "  haunted  "   house  itself  is  one 

of    the    oldest    and    quaintest    in    the 

ancient  village.     It  is  a  stone  building, 

three  stories  high,  and  at  one  time  may 

have  communicated  with  the  old  abbey. 

Its  walls  are  several  feet  thick,  and  the 

windows  have  deep  recesses  nearly  the 

thickness  of  the  walls.     The  house  is 

occupied  by  a  widow,  Mrs.  Winstanley, 

and  her  family  of  four  sons  and  three 

daughters,    all    of    whom   are   in   early 

manhood  and  womanhood.    It  overlooks  From  ,i 


IE!!  mii; 


fc 


OF  JOHN  I.YiiN. 


THE  HAUNTED  HOUSE  AT  UPHOLL.Wh 


5°3 


the  old  abbey  churchyard,  as  may  be  seen  from 
the  illustration,  and  just  underneath  the 
window  of  the  "  haunted "  chamber,  within  a 
stone's  throw,  in  fact,  is  the  grave  of  George 
Lyon,  a  notorious  local  highwayman,  who 
flourished  at  the  beginning  of  the  last  century, 
and  who  is  reputed  to  have  been  the  last  man 
hanged  for  stealing  in  Lancashire.  Surely  a 
"  haunted "  house  was  never  more  weirdly 
situated — just  above  the  grave  of  a  notorious 
highwayman  and  within  sight  of  an  ancient 
abbey  ruin  where  the  monks  of  old  worked  and 
prayed  and  died. 

When  the  weird   performances   first  began  in 
earnest — one  Sun- 
day night  in  August 
— three   youths  of 
the    Winstanley 
family  were  in  bed. 
They    were,     they 
say,  awakened    by 
a  knocking  sound 
on  the  walls  of  the 
bedroom,  and  their 
sleepy  repeated 
inquiry,    "Who's 
there  ? "  elicited  no 
response.      The 
knockings     con- 
tinued    unabated, 
seeming    to   come 
from      inside     the 
walls,    and    fear 
seized     upon     the 
trio.    This  was  not 
at    all    diminished 
when    the    curtain 
hangings      were 
suddenly  torn  from 
the  window  recess, 
which  is  used  as  a 
wardrobe,     and 
thrown     over     the 
bed,  covering  their 
heads.    Meanwhile 
the     mysterious 
knockings  became 
louder,     strips     of 
paper     were     torn 
from  the  wall,  and 

lumps  of  hard  mortar  began  to  fly  across  the 
room.  Then,  while  the  terrified  youths  lay 
there,  not  daring  to  move,  the  stones  under  the 
window-board  at  the  bottom  of  the  wardrobe 
were  loosened,  and  flung  with  an  echoing  sound 
upon  the  bedroom  floor.  With  daylight  the 
performance  ceased. 

This  remarkable  adventure  was  kept  quiet  I'm 
some    time,  and   then   a  local    councillor,    Mr. 


COUNCILLOR    liAXTER,  WHO  CONDI  HI      PRELIMINARY  OBSERVATIONS. 

;/  a  Photo,  by  II.   Parkes. 


Baxter,  was    privately   informed    ol    tin-   affaii 
He,   accompanied    by   trusty    lieuten; 
watch  in   the   "  haunti  •  Still   the 

mysterious  agent  y  worki  d  a  lolition 

night  after   night. 
When    the    m 
reported  to  him  G  er  was   i 

to  think  that,  with  the 
tive  ingenuity,  he   might 
destructive  "ghost."    But  he  was  mistaken.     Hi 
went  up  into  the  "haunted"  chambei    wil 
brave  companion.  Tin-  Winstanley  lads  o<  i  u| 
the  bed,  while  Councillor  Baxter  stood  neai 
head,  his   companion    beinj        ited    close    by. 

The     lights     « 
darkened,  and 
sently    the   plaj 
bi  gan.  Pla 
from    the    walls, 
strips    of    papei 
wire  torn  violently 
down,    and    gi 
stones  crash  e  d 
upon    the    floor. 
One   of   the    Win- 
stanley   boys    was 
terrified   at  the 
manifestations  thai 
his  brothers  had  to 
hold  him  down  in 
bed.     The  haii 
the    councillor's 
friend     began     to 
bristle,  and  as  soon 
as    he    coukl     he 
took  his  way  down- 
stairs,   di  •  1  iring 
that    he    did    noi 
intend  to  stay  any 
longer.     After  that 
a    local    policeman 
brought  his   bulFs- 
with  him  into 
the   chambi  r, 
no  sooner  was  the 
blinker     darke 
than    the 
throw 
mi  i 

stable    flashed 
his  lamp  suddenly,  and  on  the  instanl   all 
quiescent   again.     The   throwin 
and   the  knocking  could    I 
the  waiting  crowd  outside  in  the 
soon  as  the  lights  were  flashed  on  noth 
be  seen  and  everything  was 

Matters  Seemed    to 
exaggerated  rumours 
-haunted"  house  getting  ab 


5°4 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


CROWD    ASSEMBLED    IN    THE   CHURCHYARD    TO    LISTEN    TO   THE    NOISES    FROM    THE 

From  a  Photo,  by  H.  Parkes. 


HAUNTED    HOUSE"    (INDICATED    BY   A   CROSS). 


O'Aurf^yrfrW 


STREET 


•;i 


':- 


»V,V*'-'*V 


'  Bed     1 

Bed 

;  i-  ! 

2* 

;£..!, „„' 

ro»»  t  ion 

4 


began  to  foregather  in  the  neighbourhood  as  dark- 
ness fell.  Each  night  the  multitude  increased, 
un  il  at  last  the  police  patrol  had  to  be  multiplied 
by  ten.  Every  week-end  there  was  an  exodus  from 
the  towns  and  villages  for  miles  round,  and  an 
army  of  visitors 
possessed  the 
formerly  quiet 
and  peaceful 
abbey  village  of 
Upholland.  The 
photograph 
given  above, 
showing  the  mul- 
titudes of  specta- 
tors standing  in 
the  churchyard 
opposite  the 
"haunted  " 
house,  was  taken 
at  eight  o'clock 
on  the  night  of 
Sunday,  the  14th 
of  August  of  last 
year. 

Finally  no 
fewer  than  three 
local  councillors, 
Messrs.  Bibby, 
Baxter,  and 
Lonergan,  all 
highly  respect- 
able and  reput- 
able residents, 


Will 


OZtnp 


5< 


^HAUNTED*  ROOM 


BEDROOM 


Bei 


Invest,  q*to»'s 

ChA» 


BEDROOM 


W\  nrfo* 


PLAN    OF    THE    "  HAUNTED    ROOM        AND    ADJACENT   APARTMENTS — THE   ZIGZAG    I. INKS 

INDICATE   THE   POINTS   OK    DAMAGE   AND   THE    NUMBERS   THE   ORDER    IN    WHICH 

THE    "  MANIFESTATIONS  "    OCCURRED. 


took  up  a  watch  in  the   "  haunted  "  chamber, 

resolved  to  probe  the   mystery  to  the  bottom. 

Their  experiences,  as  related  by  themselves,  are 

eerie  in  the  extreme. 

At  first  it  seemed  as  if  the  destructive  agency 

would  not  ope- 
rate except  in 
darkness,  and 
when  one  of  the 
brothers  Win- 
stanley  was  in 
bed  or  in  the 
room.  Later  on, 
however,  the  per- 
formance was  at 
times  gone 
through  with  the 
room  dimly 
lighted,  and  with 
nobody  present 
except  the  inves- 
tigating council- 
lors and  one  of 
the  brothers. 
These  patient 
gentlemen  re- 
peatedly stayed 
in  the  house,  for 
purposes  of  in- 
vestigation, until 
three  o'clock  in 
the  morning, 
using  a  flashlight 
apparatus    as   an 


L<tndi  ng 


<m 


Stain  trading 


V.P 


THE    HAUNTED    HOUSE    AT    UPHOLLAND. 


5°5 


aid  to  their  endeavours 
to  locate  the  source  of 
the  trouble. 

One  of  the  brothers 
Winstanley  slept  night 
after  night  in  the  bed  in 
the  "  haunted  "  cham- 
ber, while  the  manifes- 
tations went  on  and  the 
three  councillors  inves- 
tigated the  strange  phe- 
nomena. The  stone- 
throwing  became  so 
aggressive  at  last  that 
the  two  brothers  who 
up  to  that  time  had 
been  his  bedfellows 
flatly  refused  to  sleep 
in  the  room.  One  of 
the  brothers,  before 
quitting  the  apartment, 
was  struck  on  the  side 
with  considerable  force 
by  a  patch  of  mortar 
torn  from  the  wall.  On 
another  occasion  the 
same  youth  was  in  an 
adjoining  bedroom  with 
the  councillors,  when  lumps  of  hard  mortar 
which  were  thrown  through  the  communicating 
doorway  again  struck  him,  the  "  haunted " 
chamber  being  then  empty. 

The  "  knockings  "  are  described  by  Councillor 


COUNCILLOR  BIBBY,  ANOTHER  INVESTIGATOR  WHOSE  EXPERIENCES 
ARE    HEUE    RELATED. 

From  a  Photo,  by  Crippin  &■=  Co.,  Pemberton. 


I 

'1,  as 

the 
"  ticking  "  heard    in   a 

raph  -  "Hi'  e     than 
anything    else    I 
think  of.      1  [e  is  1 
vinced  that  the  kii> 

human  agency.  After 
the  knocking  thi 
a  sort  of  Buzzing  sound, 
and  then  stones  wen- 
thrown  to  right  and 
left,  over  the  bed  and 
all  about  the  room. 
Small  stones  and 
patches  of  com  n 
mortar  wei  e  hui  led 
from  the  "  haunted  " 
chamber  into  a  com- 
municating room,  fall- 
ing at  the  feet  of  the 
watchers.  The  missiles 
so  thrown  were  taken 
away  as  relics  and  exhi- 
bited in  a  local  trades- 
man's shop  window. 
The  following  photograph  shows  a  heap 
of  very  material  debris  thrown  in  the  form  ol 
missiles  by  the  unseen  agency  during  its  weird 
performances. 

Councillor  Bibby  declares  that  these  stones 


^*'^~— ~- 


Photo,  by]  SOME    OF    THE    DEBRIS   DISLODGED    BY   THE    "GHOST"    FKOM    THB    WALLS    I 

Vol.  xiv.— 64. 


506 


THE    WIDE     WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


were  thrown  from  the  far  corner  of  the 
"haunted"  chamber,  and  to  reach  him  they 
had  to  describe  almost  a  right  angle  in  their 
flight,  having  to  cross  the  diagonal  of  the 
"  haunted  "  chamber,  then  turn  in  the  doorway 
connecting  the  two  rooms,  and  afterwards  take 
the  opposite  diagonal  in  the  communicating 
room.  This,  Councillor  Bibby  declares,  is  one 
of  the  strangest  circumstances  of  the  whole 
affair,  and  he  does  not  see  how  human  hand 
or  human  agency  of  any  kind  could  so  direct 
and  control  missiles.  He  has  made  a  con- 
siderable study  of  physiological  and  psycho- 
logical phenomena,  and  he  admits  that  it  is 
quite  possible  that  all  the  strange  manifestations 
of  the  "haunted  "  chamber  may  be  due  to  some 
as  yet  unexplained  and  undiscovered  natural 
law.  He  cannot  think,  however,  from  his  obser- 
vations in  the  "  haunted  "  house  that  the  pheno- 
mena can  be  put  down  to  human  agency.  At 
the  instant  when  a  noise  has  been  heard  he  has 
flashed  the  light  on  without  warning,  and  seven 
or  eight  large  stones  have  been  found  scattered 
over  the  room  floor.  Mr.  Bibby  is  certain  there 
is  no  trickery  or  connivance  on  the  part  of  the 
youths  in  bed.  "  They  are  quite  willing  for  any 
person  to  sleep  with  them  when  the  investiga- 
tions are  being  made,"  says  Councillor  Bibby. 
And,  indeed,  after  his  own  continuous  experi- 
ments and  weird  experiences,  he  advised  the 
brothers,  who  were  worn  out  with  their  watch- 
ings,  to  leave  the  "  haunted  "  chamber  and  seek 
sleep  elsewhere.  Their  mother,  Mrs.  Winstanley, 
scarcely  got  a  wink  of  sleep  for  weeks  in  conse- 
quence of  the  uncanny  performances. 

Mr.  Bibby  tells  some  of  his  own  experiences 
without  making  any  comment  or  expressing  any 
opinion  concerning  them.  He  has  taken  his 
pocket-knife,  he  says,  and  used  it  on  the  remain- 
ing paper  on  the  walls  of  the  "  haunted  " 
chamber,  and  it  has  been  with  the  greatest 
difficulty  that  he  has  been  able  to  get  a  piece 
the  size  of  a  shilling  from  the  plaster,  so  close 
and  fast  has  it  adhered.  And  yet  no  sooner 
has  the  flashlight  been  turned  down,  after  the 
experiment,  than  strips  of  paper  have  been 
torn  from  the  very  place  where  he  had  been 
using  his  knife. 

On  another  occasion  he  tore  off  a  piece  of 
paper  the  size  of  a  penny  and  put  it  on  the  very 
edge  of  a  stone  resting  on  the  top  of  a  band- 
box in  the  window  recess.  No  one  knew 
anything  about  it  and  the  lads  in  the  bed  were 
not  told.  When  the  light  was  darkened  the 
knockings  began  again  and  stones  were  thrown 
about.  The  light  was  promptly  flashed  up. 
The  bandbox  had  been  thrown  into  the  corner 
at  the  farther  side  of  the  chamber,  while  the 
stone  with  the  small  piece  of  paper  on  its  edge 


was  lying  on  the  bed.  The  paper,  light  as  a 
sparrow's  feather,  had  not  been  touched  or 
moved  a  hair's  breadth,  but  the  stone  had 
been  hurled  with  great  noise  and  force  from 
the  window  recess,  and  the  bandbox  actually 
thrown  across  the  room  ! 

"  If  by  any  possibility  all  this  is  the  work  of 
some  trickster  in  the  flesh,"  concludes  Councillor 
Bibby,  "  then  all  I  can  say  is  that  he  doesn't 
know  his  business.  The  commercial  instinct 
is  certainly  lacking  in  him.  He  would  be  a 
fool  who  could  perform  so  mysteriously  and 
play  the  ghost  night  after  night  at  such  a  place 
as  Upholland,  and  all  for  nothing,  when  Black- 
pool would  be  only  too  glad  to  have  him  as  an 
entertainer,  and  pay  him  well  for  his  per- 
formances." 

Councillor  Lonergan,  when  he  heard  of  the 
curious  performances,  was  at  first  inclined  to  feel 
rather  sceptical,  so  he  journeyed  down  fully  bent 
on  making  a  discovery.  He  sat  in  the  com- 
municating room  with  his  brother  investigators. 
The  knockings  began,  and  plaster  and  stones 
were  cast  about.  Councillor  Lonergan  listened 
in  fearful  silence.  Presently  a  bandbox,  loaded 
with  stones,  flew  across  the  room  over  the  bed. 
Councillor  Lonergan,  who  is  a  man  of  religious 
propensities,  could  contain  himself  no  longer. 
Jumping  into  the  middle  of  the  "haunted" 
chamber,  he  clasped  his  hands  together  and,  in 
an  appealing  voice,  cried,  "  In  the  name  of  the 
Lord,  speak  !  "     But  there  was  no  response. 

The  three  investigating  councillors,  when  they 
have  found  stones  scattered  about  the  room, 
have  repeatedly  taken  them  and  wedged  them 
back  into  the  wall,  so  tightly  that  they  could 
not  move  them  again.  Immediately  the  light 
was  turned  down,  however,  the  stones  have 
been  reft  from  their  setting  and  thrown  violently 
on  the  floor. 

The  "  haunted  "  chamber  itself  presents  a  re- 
markable spectacle  after  the  mysterious  agency's 
long-continued  manifestations.  The  writer  visited 
it  one  dark  night,  while  the  crowd  waited  out- 
side listening  for  the  noises.  It  was  dark 
within  the  chamber,  and  the  eldest  son  of  the 
family  lighted  a  candle  for  our  convenience. 

The  walled-in  window  recess,  built  up  owing 
to  the  almost  forgotten  window-tax,  was  the 
scene  of  principal  havoc,  and  this  corner  of  the 
chamber  looked  the  very  picture  of  wreck.  The 
paper  on  the  walls  was  tattered  and  torn  and 
the  plaster  was  chipped  to  the  stone,  as  though 
the  wildest  of  furies  had  been  at  some  vindic- 
tive play.  The  stones  in  the  wall  below  the 
window  seat  had  been  wrenched  out  of  their 
original  setting  and  were  all  loose-jointed  ;  the 
mortar  that  had  cemented  them,  as  well  as  the 
coating  of  plaster  on  the  walls,  having  been  used 


THE    HAUNTED    HOUSE    AT    UPHOLLAND. 


5°7 


up  by  the  mysterious  agency  in  a  fusillade  of 
scraps.  Two  great  books  which  had  been  flung 
across  the  room  from  the  window  recess  were 
resting  on  the  bed,  where  they  had  alighted. 
The  chamber  itself  was  oak-raftered  and  low- 
ceilinged,  the 
walls  thick  and 
uneven,  and  the 
heavy  old  door 
hung  crooked  on 
its  hinges.  The 
place  reminded 
one  irresistibly  of 
the  "haunted 
room"  of  the 
story-books.  As 
the  writer  stood 
viewing  the 
scene,  now  and 
then  favoured 
people  from  the 
outside  would  be 
let  in  by  twos  and 
threes,  and  they 
would  climb  the 
long,  rambling, 
rickety  staircase 
with  bated  breath. 
Once  in  the  room 
they  would  look 
round  fearfully, 
and  depart  visi- 
bly impressed. 
Some  came  to 
scoff,  but  they 
went  away  with 
awestruck  faces. 

The  police 
"have  patrolled 
the  district,  re- 
sponsible inhabi- 
tants have  done 
their  best  to 
fathom  the  affair, 

but  so  far  all  efforts  at  discovery  have  proved 
unsuccessful,  and  the  whole  affair  ends  as  it 
began,  in  mystery — only  the  mystery  is  even 
deeper  than  before.  The  superstitious  declare 
that  the  knockings  are  caused  by  George  Lyon's 
ghost  visiting  the  scenes  familiar  to  him  in  life, 
for  rumour  has  it  that  Lyon,  while  following  his 
profession  on  the  highway,  lived  for  some  period 
in  this  identical  house.  A  prominent  local 
spiritualist  maintains  that  the  manifestations  are 
caused  by  "a  dark  spirit  that  cannot  materialize," 
and  that  the  youth  in  whose  presence  the 
phenomena  seem  to  be  most  powerful  is  "  very 
mediumistic." 

A   stonemason    has    been   called  in   ar.d  has 


THE    WA1.LED-UP   WINDOW    RECESS,    THE   SCENE   OK   THE  GREATEb  I     DA 

htr»ii  a  I'twto.  by  H.  Paries. 


made  a  thorough  examinal 

the  chimney,  but  i  u|,| 

account  for  the  disturba 

was  a  i  olla 

belong)  d    t"   tl 

in 
thi 

Up,   but    tl. 

has    [V 

lilt' 

of  the  wall,  and, 

at     the     tin 
writing,  th< 
throwing    is    p 

ah  un- 
abated  \iLt"iir   at 
somewhat  irr< 
lar  intervals. 

While     pa; 
a     visit 

"haunl  i  use 

tlie  writer  nut  aii 
ancient    local 
worthyleaning  en 
hii   staff    ami 
thi  -  in  the 

churchyard       He 
confirmed    the 
statement  of  an- 
other   native 
fourscore 
who  said:  "  I 

thing,   but    I 
member  il 
at    it    sixt)    j 


I   ha v ( 

my    best    m   ■ 
article   to   chronicle   nothing    but    a-  tual   fa 
The  occurrences  described  are  ma;: 
mon     knowledge     in     thi 
testimony  of  the  invest 
the  world,  practically  every  one  of  tl 
above  suspicion.      What  i- 

It  need  only  b  I.  in  conch: 

mysterious  phenomena 
appealed  so  strongly  to  ti 
had  such  an  effect  upon  I 
Society,  thai  I 
the  representative  <>l  th 
the   weird   and 
in  the  loealitv,  and.  in 
upon  his  inquiry. 


The  story  of  a  fight  to  the   death  between  a  Canadian   officer  and  a  wounded  panther.     Major  Leckie 

has  lately  returned  to  England,    and   is    only  now    recovering   from    the    terrible    injuries  he  sustained 

during  the  fateful  minutes  when  man  and  beast  were  locked  in  deadly  embrace. 


T  was  on  the  16th 
we  found  ourselves 
Valley.  For 
three  days  we 
had  been  tra- 
velling across  country  from 
the  Abyssinian  border  to 
meet  the  colonel,  who  had 
sent  a  runner  to  our  camp 
announcing  his  arrival  in 
that  part  of  the  Protecto- 
rate, and  asking  us  to  visit 

him.     K and  I  did  not 

hesitate  to  avail  ourselves 
of  the  invitation,  although 
it  caused  us  to  deviate  from 
our  original  plan  of  moving 
in  the  direction  of  French 
Somaliland. 

The  colonel  had  selected 
a  lovely  spot  for  his  camp. 
Running  water  is  scarce  in 
Somaliland  ;  but  here  was  a 
clear,  bright  stream  flowing 
over  a  stony  bottom  for  at 
least  half  a  mile  before  it  J 
sank  once  more  beneath  the 
dazzling  white  sand  which 


of  October  that 
in  the  Debrawein 


THF    AUTHOR,    MAJOR    R.    G.    EDWARDS    LECKIE,    WHO 
HFRF,    TELLS     THE    STORY    OF    HIS    TERRIBLE    FIGHT 

From  a]      with  a  wounded  panther.      {Photo. 


indicates  the  course  of  a  river  in  the  dry  portion 
of  the  tropics.       Beautiful  tall  golol  trees  with 

their  broad,  feathery  tops 
lined  the  river  on  either 
side,  making  the  spot  a 
charming  retreat  from  the 
hot  noonday  glare  of  the. 
sun. 

In  a  shady  green  grove 
at  a  bend  in  the  river  the 
tents  were  pitched.  Around 
the  camp  the  necessary 
zareba  of'  thorn  bushes  had 
been  built  to  keep  out  lions, 
panthers,  and  other  noc- 
turnal intruders. 

it  is  easy  to  imagine  how 
pleased  we  were  to  arrive  at 
such  an  inviting  spot  in  the 
middle  of  a  white-hot  day, 
and  to  partake  of  the  cool- 
ing refreshments  offered  us 
by  our  kindly  host.  A 
bath,  then  lunch,  a  cigar, 
and  a  pleasant  chat  with 
the  colonel,  brought  us  to 
the  middle  of  the  afternoon 
Then  a  servant  announced 


MAN    v.     PANTHER. 


that  our  headman,  Jama  Said,  was  waiting  outside 
the  zareba  and  wished  to  see  me  particularly. 

Thinking  that  some  trouble  had  arisen  in  our 
camp,  which  was  situated  a  hundred  yards  or  so 
away,  I  hurried  to  meet  him,  but  a  broad  smile 
on  his  face  set  my  fears  at  rest.  He  had  good 
news  for  me.  A  native  of  the  Gadabrusi  tribe 
had   been  interviewed  in  regard  to  the  proba- 


5°0 


Indian  species.     It  ;<; 
ridding  the  natives  ol 

Bidding  a  hast]  | 

completed  my  preparation 
fully  sent  men  ahi 
to  shoot  from,  and  after  a  hurried  m 
procession    started    for    the    \  ill 
marched    my    tent-boy.    carrj 


"  HE    HAD   GOOD    NEWS    FOK    ME. 


bilities  of  game  in  the  neighbourhood,  with 
excellent  results. 

Three  miles  away  was  a  large  native  village, 
and  only  the  previous  night  it  had  been  visited 
by  a  huge  panther,  which  had  jumped  clean 
over  the  outer  zareba,  eight  feet  high,  and  again 
over  a  like  inner  enclosure,  arriving  among  the 
sheep  and  goats,  where,  regardless  of  the  angry 
shouts  of  men  and  vicious  snapping  of  watch- 
dogs, he  calmly  selected  a  fine  animal  and, 
carrying  it  in  his  mouth,  bounded  back  over 
the  obstacles  and  made  off  to  enjoy  his  meal 
unmolested 

Here  was  the  opportunity  to  secure  a  hand- 
some trophy,  for  the  panthers  or  large  leopards 
in  this  part  of  the  country  have  exceptionally 
fine  skins,  much  lighter  in  background  and  with 
black  spots  more  clearly   defined   than   in    the 


blankets   and     bedding ;     next    followed     I' 

Mahomud,  the  shikaree,  a  -500  Expi 

shoulder.      The  >econd  shikaree,    \  di    Hassin, 

carried  the  Lee-Enfield  sporting   i  :' 

my  pony  came  the  invaluabli 

ing  up  the  rear  was  a  boy  lead 

unwilling  live  bait,  in  the  sha 

Discovering  on  the  way  that  mj 
only  five  cartridges  foi  th< 
point  of  sending  him  back    I 
but  the  sun  was  soon   I 
distance  to  go,  so  1 
•■  Mils'  be    fi\< 

ever,  did  not  admit  ol   many  1 
to  have  any  sport.  . 

We  arrived  at  tl 
Mingled  sound-  <■'.   \ 
air.     The  cries  of  sh< 


- 


MAX    v.     PANTHER. 


5" 


but  as  the  goat 
was  now  dead  we 
did  not  anticipate 
any  nobler  game 
than  hyenas  or 
jackals.  How- 
ever, as  a  striped 
hyena's  skin  is  a 
trophy  not  to  be 
despised,  I  did 
not  overlook  the 
opportunity,  but 
kept  Abdi  Hassin 
on  the  look-out. 

It  was  probably 
two  o'clock  when 
I  was  awakened  in 
the  same  manner 
as  before.  This 
time  I  could  hear 
an  animal  tearing 
away  the  flesh  of 
the  dead  goat 
and  distinguish  a 
dark  body  moving 
several  yards 
away.  It  had 
evidently  pulled 
the  goat  a  certain 
distance  in  spite 
of  the  fastenings, 
but  could  not  get 
it  entirely  free 
from  the  ropes 

that  still  held  it,  and  consequently  the  animal 
was  making  its  meal  on  the  spot.  Its  actions 
seemed  to  me  similar  to  those  of  the  ordinary 
spotted  hyena ;  but  in  answer  to  an  inquiry 
whispered  in  Abdi's  ear  he  replied  emphatically, 
"Shebel  " — the  native  name  for  leopard. 

I  aimed  as  well  as  I  could  in  the  dark,  and 
my  shot  was  answered  by  a  great  roar,  which  at 
once  dispelled  my  doubts.  A  second  later  I 
thought  the  zareba  was  coming  down  on  top  of 
us,  for  the  infuriated  panther  had  charged  the 
spot  from  which  he  had  seen  the  flame  issue 
and  hurled  himself  with  full  force  against  our 
none  too  strong  barricade.  The  thorny  branches 
soon  turned  him,  however,  and  we  could  hear 
him  galloping  off  at  a  great  rate.  This  time  we 
did  not  venture  forth,  but  daylight  failed  to  dis- 
close any  signs  of  blood,  so  we  concluded  my 
shot  was  a  miss. 

Just  as  the  eastern  sky  was  crimsoning  with 
the  signs  of  coming  day,  I  was  called  by  Duda 
Mahomud  to  arise  and  make  ready  to  follow 
the  tracks  of  the  wounded  leopard.  While  the 
natives  lined  up  for  their  morning  devotions  to 
Allah  I  ate  a  couple  of  biscuits  to  fortifv  my- 


WE    KNEW    WE   WERE    FOLLOWING    UP   THF    WOUNDED    PANTHER'S   TRAIL. 


self  against    a 
po 

in.  I 

should    get    b 

light  than  v 
oil'. 

I.      1 1(  re  and 
th(  i he 

stony  ground  we 
would  find  a  s 
or  two  ol 
At  times  we  would 
lose    the    t  rai  k 
entirely,  and  then 
my  men  and  the 
half-dozen    vil- 
"in 
panied   us  would 
spread  out  in  all 
directions    end 
vouring  to  pick  it 
up  again. 

We    had    gone 
about    a    quarter 
of  a  mile  when  a 
long,   low  whistle 
from    Abdi,    who 
w  as    ahead, 
brought    me   run- 
ning to  the  spot 
where    he   stood. 
As  soon  as  I  approached  he  pointed  down  to  a 
ravine  on  our  left,  saying  "Shebel,"'  indicating 
that  the  leopard  was  there. 

I  thought  to  myself,  "  Now  we  have  him  !  "  and 
ordered   some  of  the  men  to  hurry  down  the 
ravine  to  intercept  the  animal  should  he  go  in 
that  direction,   while  I,   with   the  shikaree,  ran 
upstream  to  head  him    off  there.     This  man- 
oeuvre succeeded    in    making  "  our  friend  the 
enemy"  climb  the  hill  on  the  far  side  of  the 
ravine.     He  moved  slowly  and   turned  to  I< 
at  us  for  an  instant,  but  before  I  could  n 
rifle  he  was  continuing  his  retreat  over  1 1 1  * ■  n 
and  out  a  sight.     Scrambling  the  ra\ 

and  up  the  hillside  was  for  us  but  the  work  i 
minute.     Down   we  went    on   th< 
the  ridge,  but  the  panther  was  not  in  sight. 

Some  bushes  fringed  the  dry  b 
stream   just   below   us.   and  w 
he  must  be  taking  refi  lind  th< 

enough,    in   a   few    moments 
emerge  from  his  hiding  md  walk  le 

up  the  bed  of  the  stream. 

A  couple  of  hurried  shots  as  he  m 
failed  to  make  an  impression.     He  then  halted 


Si2 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


for  an  instant  behind  another  bush,  giving  me 
time  to  dash  along  and  get  ahead  of  him.  I 
could  then  just  make  out  his  form  through 
the  branches,  so  I  fired  again.  This  time  he 
dropped.  A  yell  of  triumph  arose  from  my 
followers,  and  with  a  wild  rush  they  swooped 
down  the  hill  towards  the  prostrate  animal. 

My  Express  was  now  useless,  as  the  ammuni- 
tion had  run  out,  and  my  shikaree  therefore 
handed   me  the  "303.     I   followed  hurriedly,  in 


to  fire ;  he  was  on  me  like  a  streak  of  lightning. 
His  great  weight  was  too  much  for  me,  and  I 
staggered  back,  losing  my  balance  and  dropping 
the  rifle,  which  had  been  almost  knocked  out  of 
my  hands.  Although  checked  by  my  thrust  the 
panther  came  at  me  again,  and  as  I  had  not 
properly  regained  my  feet  I  could  offer  no  re- 
sistance. Down  I  went,  dragged  over  by  a 
powerful  sweep  of  his  forepaw,  and  amid  a 
clattering  of  loose  stones  and  a  cloud  of  dust 
we  rolled  together  to  the  foot  of  the 
incline,  bringing  up  in  a  heap  in 
the  bed  of  the  little  stream. 


HE   WAS    ON    ME    LIKE    A    STREAK    OF    LIGHTNING. 


case  the  foolhardy  natives  had  been  deceived  as 
to  the  condition  of  the  leopard,  and  another 
shot  would  be  required  to  place  him  completely 
hors  de  combat.  As  the  ground  was  somewhat 
rough,  care  had  to  be  exercised  in  picking  my 
way  over  the  stony  surface. 

Suddenly  I  heard  a  deep  coughing  roar  in 
front  of  me.  I  looked  up  quickly,  and  there, 
charging  straight  at  me  with  open  'aws  and 
gleaming  yellow  eyes,  was  the  panther  ! 

The  Somalis,  who  had  seen  the  first  move- 
ment, scattered  in  all  directions  without  giving 
me  the  least  warning.  Had  I  anticipated  this 
onslaught  I  might  have  been  frightened,  but  as 
it  was  I  had  only  time  to  realize  the  first  sensa- 
tion which  came  to  me — one  of  intense  resent- 
ment towards  the  beast. 

Viciously  muttering  "  You  brute  ! "  I  gave 
him  "  point  one  "  of  the  bayonet  exercise  in  the 
throat  as  he  sprang  savagely  upon  me. 

I  had  no  time  to  raise  the  rifle  to  my  shoulder 


My  hands  had  been  badly  bruised  and  cut 
on  this  short  but  rough  journey  ;  but  luckily  for 
me,  when  we  reached  the  bottom,  I  was  on  top 
of  the  animal.  He  struggled  wildly  to  get  from 
this  disadvantageous  position,  clawing  madly  all 
the  time.  Had  I  been  underneath,  one  snap 
of  his  powerful  jaws  on  my  neck — a  favourite 
point  of  attack — and  Charon  would  have  had 
another  passenger. 

As  I  was  now  totally  unarmed  I  had  to  rely 
solely  on  my  hands  to  keep  up  this  unequal 
contest.  I  could  feel  the  brute's  hot  breath  on 
my  face,  and  as  he  tried  to  get  at  my  head  I 
instinctively  guarded  with  my  left,  thrusting  that 
arm  into  his  open  mouth.  Regaining  his  feet, 
he  came  at  me  again  with  distended  jaws  and 
blazing  eyes.  Again  my  left  arm  had  to  do  duty 
to  save  my  head. 

It  occurred  to  me  at  this  stage  of  the  game 
that  my  chances  were  but  slight.  I  mentally 
exclaimed,  "  By  Jove,  this   is    the  finish  !  "     I 


MAN  v.  PANTHKk. 


5*3 


AGAIN  MY  LEKT  ARM  HAD  TO  DO  DUTY  I'D  SAVE  MY  HEAD." 


think  my  dominant  sensation  was  one  of  curi- 
osity as  to  what  would  be  the  end  of  the 
performance,  and  how  the  animal  would  deliver 
the  final  coup. 

However,  at  this  moment  I  managed  to 
struggle  to  my  feet  and  stagger  clear  of  the  in- 
furiated beast.  Once  I  was  away  from  him  and 
standing  up,  he  seemed  to  hesitate  about  renew- 
ing the  attack,  probably  on  account  of  his  severe 
wound.  It  was  then  that  the  Somalis  came 
rushing  in,  yelling  as  loudly  as  they  could.  This 
was  too  much  for  the  panther.  He  turned  tail 
and  went  downstream,  not  before  inflicting  a 
nasty  gash  with  his  claws  on  the  leg  of  Abdi 
Hassin,  who  had  rashly  jumped  almost  on  top 
of  him. 

Fifty  yards  away  the  panther  lay  down  to  die, 
my  last  shot  having  gone  through  his  body. 
The  first,  it  appears,  struck  him  too  low  on  the 
shoulder  to  be  vital. 

I  now  turned  my  attention  to  my  own  wounds. 
I  was  bleeding  profusely,  but  was  overjoyed  to 
find  my  eyesight  uninjured,  although  the  terrible 
claws  had  come  within  an  eighth  of  an  inch  of 
each  eye,  leaving  gaping  wounds.  On  top  of  my 
head  the  scalp  was  cut  open  right  across  from 
one  side  to  the  other.  An  ugly  wound  extended 
from  a  point  above  the  left  eyebrow  across  the 
temporal  artery,  which  was  severed.  Seven 
punctures  on  my  left  arm  showed  the  work  done 
by  the  big  teeth.  Strange  to  say,  I  suffered 
absolutely  no  pain,  save  a  certain  numbness  in 
the  injured  hand  and  arm. 

Vol.  xiv.— 65. 


As  I  climbed  the  slope  from  the  scene  of  the 
conflict  Abdi  came  up  to  me  and  looked  in  my 
face.  I  must  have  been  a  woful  sight,  as 
treme  horror  was  depicted  on  his  countenance, 
and  he  groaned  loudly.  This  made  me  smile, 
but  my  grin  must  have  been  a  ghastly  spect. 
for  the  worthy  shikaree  groaned  again,  loud-  r 
than  ever.  It  was  very  funny,  and  I  wish  I  had 
been  in  better  condition  to  enjoy  the  humour 
of  it. 

Loss  of  blood  was  now  beginning  to  tell  on 
me,  and  I  called  to  the  natives,  who  had  collected 
around  the  dying  animal,  to  bring  me  a  blanket 
to  lie  on,  as  I  felt  myself  growing  weak  and  my 
knees  getting  shaky.  I  needed  another  blanket 
over  me,  for  I  was  feeling  very  cold.  I  was 
never  so  near  fainting  in  all  my  life. 

Before   long  the  syce  arrived   with   the  pony 
and  my  flask.     A  drink  of  brandy  made  me  feel 
better,  and  I   was  soon   assisted   to  the   pony's 
back.     I  had  not  gone  tar.  however,  when  1 
to  dismount  and  again  lie  down.     The  tempi 
faintness   soon    passed   away,  and    for    the 
mainder  of  the  three  miles  into  camp  I  m 
very  nicely. 

I  was  met  on  the  way  by  K 
with  him  coolies  carrying  I 
and  blankets.     He  wa 

had   not  furnished    the    1<  irly 

breakfast,    as    the     first     reports    hi 
intimated. 

On  arriving  in  camp  ! 
colonel  having  made  excellent  ar;  for 


5*4 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


me  in  his  zareba  and  dispatched  a  native  horse- 
man to  Hargeisa  for  a  surgeon,  who,  when  he 
arrived —three  days  later  —  complimented  me 
on  my  good  fortune  in  having  such  capable 
friends    to    look    after    me.       Thanks     to     the 


driven  out  by  the  sentries.  On  one  occasion 
he  had  sniffed  at  the  face  of  my  syce,  who 
was  lying  on  the  ground  with  fever,  too  ill  to 
move.  The  sentry  was  afraid  to  fire  through 
fear  of    hitting    the    man,   but   frightened    the 


M 


From  a  | 


THE   AUTHOR   ON    HIS    WAY   TO   THE   COAST    AFTER    HIS    FIGHT    WITH    THE    PANTHER. 


[Photo. 


prompt  and  skilful  efforts  of  the  colonel, 
K—  — ,  and  H—  — ,  blood-poisoning  did  not  set 
in,  and  after  twenty-three  days  at  Debrawein 
I  was  well  enough  to  leave  for  the  coast.  On 
the  way  down  we  stayed  three  days  at  Biji, 
about  thirty  miles  inland  from  Bulhar,  to  give 
me  a  rest,  as  the  journey 
was  very  trying. 

One    night   while    there 

the    surgeon    and    K 

went  out  to  a  native  village 
to  try  for  leopards.  During 
the  night  I  was  awakened 
by  a  commotion  in  the 
zareba,  and  found  on  in- 
quiry that  a  leopard  had 
twjce  jumped  into  our  en- 
closure  and    had    been 


animal  off  with  a  firebrand.  That  same 
night  a  lion  approached  within  a  short 
distance  of  camp,  roaring  hideously.  He  re- 
peated the  performance  the  following  evening, 
and  was  rewarded  by  a  bullet  from  the 
surgeon's  rifle  for  his  daring. 

I  was  very'glad  when  the 
hundred-mile  ride  to  Bulhar 
was  over.  From  there  the 
surgeon  and  I  went  by 
dhow  to  Berbera,  where  we 
were  once  more  in  touch 
with  civilization.  Thanks 
to  his  kind  and  patient 
care,  I  was  able  to  sail  for. 
England  in  a  fortnight,  my 
wounds  completely  healing 
on  the  voyage. 


THE   AUTHOR 

From  a] 


\rhflto 


The  "  Water-Melon  Champion 


-A  Japanese  Poster — The  l<  Unchanging  East"— An  Optical 
Illusion,   etc..  etc. 


HIS  photograph  illustrates  what  is 
probably  a  unique  gastronomic  feat. 
Rocky  Ford,  Colorado,  has  a  feast 
of  water  -  melons  every  year,  and 
tourists  come  from  near  and  far  to 

participate,  thousands  upon  thousands  of  water- 
melons being  eaten  on  that  day.      One  of  the 

features  of  the  day  last  year  was  a 

"championship  race  against  en- 
durance," by  Tom  Johnson,  a  Texas 

negro,  who  holds  a  record  for  eating 

six  melons  at  one  sitting.      Some 

Eastern  tourists  made  some  good, 

substantial   wagers   that  he   could 

repeat  the  performance.  The  pic- 
ture   was    taken  just    as   Johnson 

was  about  to  start,  and  shows  very 

clearly    the    immense    size    of  the 

melons  he  had  to  "put  away."    At 

the  word  "Go!"  Johnson  started 

on  a    cut    melon    and    finished    it 

in   the   remarkable    time    of   three 

minutes.     He  was  six  minutes  at 

the  second  melon.    Before  he  took 

the    next  relay  he  asked  for,   and 

obtained,  five  minutes'  rest.    When 

he  reached  the   fifth    melon  —  as 

might  well  be  expected — he  showed 

signs  of  being  fatigued  and  cloyed, 

yet   kept   at    it  doggedly  until  he 

had  finished  half  of  it,   but  when 

he    came    to    the    end    of   the 

second  half   it   looked   as  though 

he    had    reached    his    limit.       He 

managed,    however,    to    demolish 


half  of  the  sixth,   when   he  gave  up.     John 
claimed  as   the  reason  for  not  maintaining  his 
record    that    he    had    eaten    two    melons    that 
morning,   previous   to  tackling   the  othi  It 

is,  however,  needless  to  add  that  he  still 
holds  undisputed  title  to  this  particular 
•k  championship." 


THE       wa  i  n 
From  a) 


MELON    CHAMPION 


5i6 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


Prom  a  Photo,  by) 


THE   CURIOUS   GRASS    BOATS   OF    THE    LAKE     1  1TICACA    INDIANS. 


[JV.  P.  Edwards. 


Lake  Titicaca,  situated  between  Chili  and 
Peru,  the  largest  inland  body  of  water  on  the 
South  American  continent,  possesses  a  distinct 
novelty  in  the  way  of  boats.  For  a  vessel  to  be 
made  of  grass  and  yet  keep  out  water  and  float 
buoyantly   seems   almost   impossible.     Yet,    by 


J*rom  a\ 


MALE    ANU>    IEMALE   COOLIES    ROLLING    A    ROAD    IN    INDIA. 


weaving  the  grass  into  hard  ropes  and  so  into 
great  rolls,  the  lakeside  natives  are  able  to  con- 
struct serviceable  craft  in  which  to  punt  supplies 
from  place  to  place  or  go  fishing.  These 
remarkable  boats  are  shown  in  the  above 
photograph,  and,  though  their  lines  are  perhaps 

not  quite  those  of  a 
racing-yacht,  they  yet 
serve  their  purpose 
sufficiently  well,  while 
costing  practically  no- 
thing to  build. 

In  these  days  of 
motor-cars,  steam- 
rollers, and  so  forth,  it 
is  quite  refreshing  to 
meet  with  such  a 
primitive  scene  as  that 
depicted  intheannexed 
photograph.  Here  we 
see  an  Indian  road 
being  rolled,  not  by 
any  modern  appliance, 
but  by  a  roller  cut  out 
of  a  huge  block  of  solid 
granite  and  hauled  by 
two  teams  of  coolies. 
Needless  to  say,  the 
work  is  not  done  very 
rapidly.  There  is,  how- 
ever, no  lack  of  noise, 
as  the  coolies  sing  or 
shout    unceasingly   as 


ODDS    AND    ENDS. 


5*7 


they  work.  The  woman  in  the  fore- 
ground with  the  curious  headgear 
has  been  carrying  earth  and  stones 
in  a  basket,  and  the  pad  is  for  the 
purpose  of  protecting  her  head,  for 
all  Indians  carry  their  burdens  on 
their  heads.  A  mixed  team  of  this 
kind  would  create  a  mild  sensation 
if  set  to  work  in  one  of  our  leading 
thoroughfares. 

The  "Stock  im  Eisen  " —literally 
the  "stick  in  iron" — is  one  of  the 
most  curious  and  fantastic  things  in 
Vienna.     It  is  a  prehistoric-looking 


THE    "  STICK    IN    IRON  "   AT    VIENNA — NOBODY 
SEEMS   TO    KNOW    THE    HISTORY    OF    THIS    MYS- 
TERIOUS OHJECT,    HUT  IT   IS   ONE  OF  THE  CHIEF 
SIGHTS   OF    THE    CITY. 

From  a  Photo,  by  A  l/red  Holder. 

tree -trunk  pierced  with  hundreds, 
perhaps  thousands,  of  round-headed 
iron  nails,  until  it  has  become  far 
more  iron  than  wood.  Nobody 
seems  really  to  know  the  reason  of 
it  all,  but  perhaps  just  on  account 
of   all    this    mystery    and    antiquity 


*^fF|r^tn2£-K#gjs§ 


1   £  ^gs 

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for  CoQEridjiaba  So.&ary  AND  Na?7  lapaa  cE«y«. 

AT  CHIYOZAKI  C.\OKlTA«'i  A 
Big.ElpliautCnrians-Ridiugsnd  Acrobaaic  Peas. 
As.  Clriyoazaricho  Kidagnsa  Eeun ing  Seven  Einebaya  Erom  4  Tb  M, ,  I, 
TheHaveAProcoomancs  So  Signiey  Aur  Duty  <o  CWridoae. 
Our  Admy  Anb  Navyln  Jaqan  Russia  War; 
Please  Berp  Us  So  Aceomplisbonr  Intention 


Cpecial  y  1, 


Admission  Pio 
Eifttelasi  50 


L 


Baysgo.Sen  Yc'.i,la  Old  V.'J  -deHaJfr 


A   JAPANESE   CIRCUS   POSTER — NOTICE    THE   ALLEGED    "ENGLISH 

the  "Stock  ini  Eisen"  is  one  of  the  most  venerated 
objects  of  Vienna.  It  stands  at  a  corner  of  the  famous 
thoroughfare  Graben,  in  a  little  shrine  firmly  clamped 
and  padlocked  to  the  wall,  as  here  shown. 

Above    is   a    queer    contribution    from    Japan.       It    is 
the    handbill  of  a   Japanese    circus,    the    English    trans 
lation    of    which    is    particularly    brilliant.     Someone    or 
other,  it  is  presumed,  wrote  out  the  translation  in  hand 
writing  which  was  not  very  legible,  and  the  conscientious 
Japanese  compositor,   not  understanding    English,  n 
the  best   he   could   of  it.     According   to   the    Japan 
characters     the     circular     should     read     somewhat 

follows  : — 

For  Contribution  to  the  Army  and  Navy,  Japan  W 
At  i  hiyi  izaki,  Kitagata, 
Big  Elephant  Circus — Riding  and   \ 

At  Chiyozaki-cho,   Kitagata,   lasting  Sevei     I 

4th   March. 
We  have  a  Performance  to  signify  our  Duty 
our  Army  and  Navy  in  Japan -Russ 
Please   help   us   to   accon 

Admission  Fee  : — 
Special  Yen  i.      First  Class  .50.       Boys  of  T<  old  will 

be  half  ticket. 


5i» 


THE     WIDE     WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


inside  the  box,  whence  the  stage  driver 
takes  them,  leaving  his  delivery  in  return. 
This  arrangement  is  a  decided  convenience 
in  sparsely-settled  districts,  and  is  but  rarely 
abused. 

The  startling  apparition  seen  in  the 
following  snap-shot  is  not  a  visitant 
from  the  nether  regions,  but  a  Ceylon 
"  devil  -  dancer."  These  performers  dress 
themselves  in  a  variety  of  hideous  and 
grotesque  costumes,  equipped  with  awe- 
inspiring  masks,  and  take  part  in  religious 
and    other    ceremonies.     The    head  •  niece 


Very  few  of  our  readers,  we  imagine,  could 
correctly  name  the  extraordinary  creature  on 
which  the  gentleman  seen  in  the  above  photo, 
is  sitting.  The  animal,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  is 
the  curious  ant-bear  of  South  Africa.  Our 
photo,  was  taken  at  Chaka's  Kraal,  Natal. 


*• 


p.- 1 


A    CEYLON    "  DEVIL-DANCER. 


[Photo. 


A     PRIMITIVE    POST-OFFICE    IN    THE    CANADIAN    BACKWOODS. 

.  From  a  Photo. 

The  next  photo,  we  reproduce  shows  a  primitive 
rural  post-office  in  Canada,  on  the  stage  route 
between  Birtle  and  Miniota,  Manitoba.  Resi- 
dents   in   the   neighbourhood    put    their    letters 


worn  by  the  particular  dancer  who  figures  in 
our  picture  is  a  veritable  masterpiece  of  fantastic 
ugliness. 

The  extraordinary  but  characteristic  combina- 
tion shown  in  the  photograph  at  the  top  of  the 
next  page  was  caught  by  the  camera  in  North- 
western Wyoming,  in  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
some  twenty  miles  from  one  of  the  large  ranches 
owned  by  Colonel  W.  F.  Cody  ("Buffalo  Bill"). 
It  was  while  Colonel  Cody  was  on  a  hunt  for  big 
game,  one  November,  that  his  party  came  across 
this  unusual  spectacle  in  one  of  the  densely- 
wooded  canyons  of  that  region,  and  a  member 
of  the  band  photographed  it  just  in  time. 
The  large  horns  and  skull  are  those  of  a  moun- 


ODDS    AND    ENDS 


from  11 


tain  sheep,  or  "big 
horn,"  a  favourite 
but  elusive  object 
of  the  hunter's 
search.  The  little 
animal  astride  one 
of  the  horns  is  the 
mountain  rat,  often 
called  pack-rat  or 
camp -rat.  He  is 
a  voracious  little 
rodent,  and  fre- 
quently a  source 
of  annoyance  to 
campers.  He  is 
equipped  with 
wonderfully  strong 
teeth,  and  has 
often  been  known 
to  gnaw  through  a 
tin  of  meat  in  his 
quest  for  food. 
Being  so  well  fitted 
by  nature  for  forag- 
ing he  can  make 
himself  very  un- 
popular in  the 
commissariat  de- 
partment of  a  well- 
stocked  cam]).  In 
the  illustration  we 
find  him  perched 
on  his  strange 
dining  -  table    ab- 


THE    "UNCHANGING    EAST  "—ARMENIAN    WOMEN     MAKII 


Front  n   Photo,   by  N.    I 


sorbed  in  the  dis- 
cussion "I  .1   : 
of   nuts  gathered 
near  by. 
The  "'  un<  h 

follow 
its  own   v. 
from   time  imme 
morial,     is     ilkis 
trated    in    a   \ 
typical  way  by  tin 
photograph     1 
reprodui  i  d,  which 
hails   from  Arme 
nia.  Thechurn  the 
women  are  us 
it  will  be  notii 
is  just  the  skin  ol 
a   goat,    with 
openings  wl 
the  ne<  k  and 
wei 
1  toubtl 
primith 
hav< 
from   ti 

"puttii 

js" 


52° 


THE    WIDE     WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


1 


THIS   IS   NOT   A    PHOTO,    OF    A    SNOW-COVERED    SHORE 


refers.  It  would  be  interesting  to  know  what  sort 
of  flavour  the  churns  impart  to  Armenian  butter. 
Almost  anybody  would  guess  the  scene 
depicted  in  our  last  photograph  to  be  the  snow- 
covered  shore  of  a  large  body  of  water.  It 
looks  cold  and  desolate  enough  to  be  a  seascape 
in  Iceland,  but  it  isn't.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
the  photo,  was  taken  in  New  Mexico,  under  a 


V    MEXICAN    DESERT. 


scorching  sun.  The  apparent  sea  is  the  dreary 
desert,  and  what  looks  like  a  bank  of  snow  is 
the  wonderful  white  sand  that  whirls  and  drifts 
along  at  the  base  of  the  mountain  ranges  border- 
ing on  the  desert.  This  is  the  only  sand  in  the 
world  really  as  white  as  the  driven  snow,  and  it 
seems  strangely  out  of  place  on  the  dingy,  sun- 
blistered  plain  of  an  inland  territory. 


Harvesting  by  Wire 
QS.  $PfT&\  Th^tIaunt^)  House"  ;  * 

^V^§^<^'^v  i    I        *§AT  UPjfifOLLAN O 


My  »ench 

^i  Servants 

A 

•The  Secret 
of  Miss  Stones 


Capture  by 
Brigands 


e  Uqcfagiqg 


the  Clutch 
Cannibals 

'islo-American 
Expedition  in 
Abyssinia 

Man  v  Panther 

»My  Experiences  at 
King  Solomon's  Mines" 

Last  Voyage  of- the  Strathmore 


'ftl  E  PR!  N  C  E  SS"S  Vf{0  PO  S  t 

«Tme  Bite  r^ "Bit 
The  Adventures  of  Jaci^o 


THE    NOVEL    MAI  -CONTENTS   OK        THE   WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE,      WHICH    SHOWS   AT   A    GLANCE    THE    LOCALITY    OF    EACH    ARTICLE 

AND    NARRATIVE   OF    ADVENTURE    IN    THIS    NUMBER. 


"I    WAS    CAST    UPON    THE    AXLE    OF    THE    DRUM." 

(see  page  527.) 


The  Wide  World  Magazine. 


Vol.  XIV 


MARCH,    1905. 


No 


THE    CIRCLE    OF    DEATH. 

By  Edward  Zimmkrmax,  of   IUrnsidk,   Pknnsylvania. 

An  experience  unparalleled  in  the  history  of  the  American  coalfields,  and  which  has  already 
passed  into  mining  tradition.  Mr.  Zimmerman  describes  how,  losing  his  way  one  dark  night,  he 
wandered  into  the  unlighted  engine-room  of  a  mine  and  fell  into  the  great  drum  of  the  winding- 
engine.  When  he  recovered  consciousness  the  drum  was  revolving,  hurling  him  hither  and 
thither  like  a  feather  !     A  more  appalling  predicament  it  is  impossible  to  conceive. 

j|  ATE  on  the  night  of  August  5U1,  1904,  steps  I  was  descending,  as  I   thought,  the  north 

I    was    returning    to    my    home    at  slope  of  the  mountain  when    I  suddenly  realized 

Burnside,  a   mining  village  situated  that  I  was  off  the  road— that  I  was  lost  ! 
two  miles   north-west  of  Shamokin,  Halting,  I   strained  my  eves  in  an   effort  to 

in    Pennsylvania,  after  going  to   the  penetrate  the  intense  darkness,  but  failed  even 

town  to  get  the  evening  mail.     Although   I  had  to  see  my  own  hand  extended  at  arm's  length 


travelled  the  mountain 
road  in  the  dark  many 
a  time,  I  became  con- 
fused that  evening  and 
lost  my  way.  The  sky 
was  overclouded,  and 
not  a  star  was  to  be 
seen  as  I  groped  my 
way  along  through  the 
gloom.      Rising    like 
sombre  black  curtains 
along  the  steep  moun- 
tain side,  the  banks  of 
"  culm  " — the    refuse 
of  the  mines  —  only 
intensified  the  black- 
ness  all    about    me. 
Here  and  there  trees 
loomed    weirdly 
through   the 
mantle    of    dark- 
ness, as  if  making 
one    last   struggle 
for   life    before 
being  smothered 
beneath    the 
myriad  tons   of 
grime    the    mines 
had  thrown  up. 

It  took  me  two 
hours  that  night 
to  come  over  the 
mountains  —  a 
journey  I  had 
often  made  in 
t  wen  ty-five 
minutes.  Groping 
around  and  using 
a  stick  to  guide 
my   hesitating 


'■  I    PLUNGED   INTO   STACK. 


before  me.  Fearing 
to  advance  I  rested 
on  a  log  and  shouted 
for  help.  Echoes 
sent  my  cries  mock- 
ingly back  to  my 
ears.  Presently, 
knowing  that  it  was 
of  no  use  sitting 
still,  I  resumed  my 
aimless  journey. 
Suddenly,  without  the 
slightest  warning. 

t  struck  a  board 
and  I  plunged  into 
space,  landing  head 
fust,  with  a  mighty 
crash,   on  some  con- 

e  surface.  Then 
1  lost  consciousness. 
That  fall  is  the  last 
thing  I  remember 
until  I  was  awakened, 
si  veral  hours  later,  by 
a  curious  sensation 
that  the  world  had 
suddenly  shrunk  loan 
infinitesimal  fraction 
<>f  its  prop;  and 

was  turning  on  its  axis 
at  an  increasing  rate 
1  f  speed,  with  me  in- 
side it,  like  a  dr<>. 
suddenly  -  stirred  -  up 

lirrel  in  a  revoh 
the  liist  i 
-   the    motion 

pll  '•"' 

it  1 

illyand  vainly, 


Vol. 


66. 


5-4 


THE    WIDE    WORE!)    MAGAZINE. 


From  a] 


THE    BURNSIDE   MINE. 


to  comprehend  what  it  meant.  The  only  thing, 
however,  that  this  shrunken  rotating  world  of 
mine  suggested  to  my  numbed  brain  was  a  mine 
drum — a  circle  of  death  no  man  had  ever  entered 
unless  the  power  were  shut  off  and  he  was 
making  repairs.  I  began  to  think  more  and 
more  of  mine  drums,  while  mental  glimpses  of 
them  came  to  me  as  the  rotation  increased. 

Then,  like  a  flash,  the  dreadful  truth  flashed 
upon  me.  This  was  a  mine  drum,  and  I  was 
inside  it !  Unwittingly  I  had  wandered  into  the 
open  doorway  of 
the  engine-house 
at  the  top  of  the 
Burnside  shaft, 
had  tripped  over 
the  step,  and 
fallen  into  the 
open  side  of  the 
great  drum  used 
to  hoist  cars  from 
the  mine  ! 

To  those  who 
are  not  familiar 
with  mining,  an 
explanation  of  the 
construction  and 
appearance  of  a 
mine  drum  and 
its  uses  may  aid 
in  the  apprecia- 
tion of  my  awful 
position.  The 
engine  -  house  in 
which  the  drum 
is  placed  is  fifty 


yards  from  the 
mouth  of  Bum- 
side  shaft.  A  steel 
cable,  winding 
round  the  drum, 
passes  out  through 
an  aperture  in  the 
end  of  the  house 
over  a  large  wheel 
—  known  as  a 
shieve  wheel  — to 
the  trestle  -  work 
above  the  shaft.  A 
mine  cage  is  at- 
tached to  the  end 
of  the  cable.  The 
shaft  has  two 
sides,  so  that  as 
one  cage  is  lowered 
the  other  is  hoisted 
by  the  same  drum. 
The  mechanism 
is  similar  to  that 
used  in  hoisting  cars  by  an  inclined  plane. 
The  drum  itself  is  operated  by  two  powerful 
engines,  and  has  gigantic  brakes  capable  of 
stopping  it  within  a  few  seconds. 

I  had  never  examined  the  construction  of  a 
mine  drum  ;  but  in  my  experience  that  night  I 
thouirht  I  saw  a  million  bolts  sticking  their 
points  inward  through  the  circumference.  Built 
of  iron  spokes  supporting  a  circle  of  boards 
three  inches  thick,  the  Burnside  drum  is  four- 
teen  feet   in   diameter — nearly  three  times   my 


■ 


\riwto. 


THE    ENGINE-ROOM   OF   THE    liURNSIDE    MINE,    SHOWING    THE    EXTERIOR    OF    THE   GREAT    DRUM    OF    Till 

From  a]  winding-engine.  \Photo. 


THE    CIRCLE    <)l      DK.VIII 


height.      The    bolts,    which     soon     added    the 
cruellest    agony   to    my   sufferings,    are    dri 
through  the  boards,  to  brace  the  drum  and  keep 
the  cable  in  place.     The  heads  protrude  every 
two  or  three  inches,  making  the 
interior  look  like  a  reversed  nut- 
meg-grater of  gigantic  size. 

The  drum  revolves  on  an  axle, 
which  is  on  a  level  with  the  floor 
of  the  engine-room,  so  that  only 
one-half  of  the  great  cylinder  is 
visible  at  a  time.  Fitting  close 
under  the  circumference  is  a 
sunken  semicircle  of  flooring, 
encasing  the  lower  half  of  the 
drum.  That  sunken  flooring 
made  any  living  thing  at  the 
bottom  of  the  drum  a  hopeless 
prisoner. 

The  drum  extends  fifteen  feet 
across  the  engine-room,  its  ex- 
terior divided  in  half  by  the 
centre  brake  and  the  cables, 
which  are  so  coiled  about  the 
circumference  that  one  winds  as 
winds,  lowering  and  hoisting  the 
two  compartments  of  the  shaft. 

Directly  opposite  one  end  of  the  drum  is  the 
open  door  through  which  I  had  stumbled  that 


THE    AUTHOR,    MR.    E 

From  a  L'hoto 


the  other  un- 
cages in  the 


room;  but  only  darkn  tiled,  and  soth 

windows  were  usd 

It  was  in  thai  i  ngi  i,    within    that   iron 

bolted  drum,  that    1   had  lain   un 

three  hours,  obln  ious  of  I 
I  was  courting,  until  ' 
Mad 

at  fr.  ■  k  in  the  mom 

in  his  day's  work. 
It  was  Maddenfort's  fii 
to  lower  William    Kelly,  a    "  i 
boss  "  and  a  friend  of  min 
the  shaft,  so   that   he   could   in- 

i  t  the  workings  for  gas  bel 
allowing  the  miners  to  enter  Foi 
their  daily  toil.      .\     1  the 

incident    now,    it 
that  my  friend  Kelly  should  h 
bt  en  in  the  cage  who  nt 

into  the  shaft  imperilled  my  I 
If  I  had  been  conscious  at  I 
instant  I  would  have  heaid  the 


DWARI)    ZIMMERMAN 

by  J.  Coiiirnf. 


signal-bell  ring 


tellii 


denfort  that  Kelly  was  stam 
in  the  cage,  ready  to  descend. 

As  I  afterwards  learned,  Maddenfort  remarl 
to  himself  that  morning  that  he  would  lower  the 
cage  more  slowly  than  usual.      It  being  the  first 
trip    that    day,    he    wished    to    test    the    cables 


VIEW   OF   THE   INTERIOR   OF    THE    DRUM    FROM   THE   SIDF.,    SHOWING    THE    AXLE    ON    M  HJC1I 

From  a  Photo. 


end  facing  the 


night.  The  other  door  is  at  the 
machinery.  If  there  had  been  any  light  in  the 
sky  that  night  it  might  have  filtered  in  through 
the    three  grime-stained    windows  in   the  little 


thoroughly  In  t  ting.     H 

was  kind  to  me. 
A  second  rap  on  thi 
room,  and  the  cable  1  — im 


5^6 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


started  on  its  mad  whirl,  with  me  inside,  help- 
less and  senseless.  From  that  instant  my 
chances  of  escape  were  not  worth"  powder 
enough  to  blow  me  into  the  next  world. 

It  may  be  that  the  bolts,  bruising  and  cutting 
me,  proved  the  beginning  of  my  salvation,  for  it 
was  the  pain  of  those  jagged  projections  which 
at  length  stirred  me  into  semi-consciousness. 
During  the  seconds  that  allowed  my  appalling 
situation  to  dawn  upon  me  I  was  being  rolled 
like  a  pea  in  a  gigantic  cylinder.  But  at  last, 
as  my  heart  began 
to  sink  with  the 
conviction  that  I 
was  indeed  inside 
a  mine  drum,  the 
increasing  impetus 
of  my  whirling 
prison  gathered 
me  up.  The 
second  revolution 
was  not  completed 
before  I  was  carried 
bodily  to  the  top 
of  the  drum,  and 
as  I  dropped 
heavily  to  the  bot- 
tom I  awakened 
to  a  full  under- 
standing of  the 
whole  terrible, 
paralyzing  extent  of 
my  danger.  One 
of  the  huge  iron 
spokes  struck  my 
head.  The  blow 
seemed  to  drive 
presence  of  mind 
into  me,  and  I 
grasped  desperately 
at  the  spoke,  only 
to  see  it  whizz 
from  my  hands.    I 

dropped,  with  numbed  fingers,  to  the  floor. 
To  leap  out  through  the  open  side  of  the 
flying  drum  meant  certain  death  ;  I  should  be 
caught  in  the  narrow  space  between  the  edge  of 
the  drum  and  the  floor,  and  cither  be  sliced  in 
half  or  torn  limb  from  limb.  And  yet,  if  I 
stayed  in  this  awful  spinning  circle,  I  must  be 
slowly  rent  into  pieces.  Both  alternatives  pointed 
to  the  same  end — death.  Yet  there  was  no 
other. 

Which  should  I  take  ?  Which  offered  the 
better  chance  of  escape?  Would  the  whirling 
ever  cease?  I  grew  dizzy  as  these  and  a 
thousand  other  questions  came  crowding  upon 
me,  one  tumbling,  as  I  was  tumbling,  on  the 
other's  heels.     Then  I  recalled,  as  if  by  inspira- 


I    WAS    DEING    ROLLED    LIKE    A    I  EA    I.N    A    U  UAN1IC    CVL1NDEU. 


tion,  the  story  of  how  Claude  Brubaker,  a  little 
friend  of  mine,  had  saved  his  life  in  a  fearful 
predicament  when  he  was  caught  in  a  screen  in 
a  mechanical  coal-breaker  near  by.  Brubaker, 
I  remembered,  crawled  into  the  circular  screen 
to  remove  a  hook  that  had  clogged  the  coal, 
when  the  engineer,  mistaking  the  workman's 
signal  to  reverse  and  run  slowly,  sent  the  screen 
ahead,  revolving  like  an  electric  fan,  with  the 
little  fellow  inside.  The  man  clung  to  the 
spokes  and  turned  with  them  while  he  screamed 

for  help.  Breaker 
hands,  who  had 
seen  Brubaker 
whirling  within  the 
screen,  sounded  a 
warning,  stopped 
the  machinery,  and 
so  saved  his  life. 

But  where  a 
crowd  of  men  had 
seen  and  saved 
Brubaker,  here  I 
was  alone  with  no 
one  even  to  hear 
my  cries.  If  I  was 
to  be  saved  I  must 
save  myself.  In- 
stinctively I  tried 
to  repeat  Bru- 
baker's  trick.  I 
reached  again  for 
one  of  the  iron 
spokes,  now  darting 
past  me  so  fast  that 
I  could  scarcely  see 
them.  I  thrust  out 
my  hands  like  a 
drowning  man 
grasping  for  a  straw, 
for  the  spokes  were 
my  only  salvation. 
But  again  the  iron 
slipped  from  my  hands  as  if  I  had  seized  a  greased 
pole.     Again  I  dropped  to  the  moving  floor. 

By  this  time  the  speed  of  the  drum  had 
increased  immensely.  The  spokes  flashed  about 
my  head  ;  I  was  tossed  from  one  side  to  the 
other,  and  was  carried  swiftly  to  the  top  and 
hurled  to  the  bottom  with  every  revolution.  If 
I  had  been  put  in  a  barrel  lined  with  the 
sharp  points  of  thousands  of  nails  and  then 
rolled  down  a  mountain  two  miles  long  I  do  not 
believe  I  would  have  suffered  more  than  I  did 
from  those  drum  bolts.  They  tore  my  clothes 
to  shreds  ;  they  ripped  wide  pieces  of  skin  from 
my  hands ;  they  prodded  me  like  demons  with 
pitchforks  at  every  turn. 

A  third  time  I  grasped  for  the  spokes,  and  a 


ill  1 :    CIRCLE    OF    DEATH. 


'/ 


third  time  I  only  bruised  my  hands.  Weakened 
by  the  loss  of  blood,  aching  in  every  bone,  terrified 
and  hopeless.  I  abandoned  myself  to  my  fate.  I 
felt  that  death,  horrible  and  speedy,  awaited  me. 

At  the  very  next  turn  I  was  cast  upon  the 
axle  of  the  drum.  It  seemed  at  first  to  knock 
the  breath  of  life  out  of  me.  Then  came  a 
sudden  flocd  of  intelligence.  As  if  the  heavens 
had  opened  and  a  streak  of  lightning  had  illu- 
mined the  awful  darkness  of  my  fears,  a  provi- 
dential message  flashed  through  my  dazed  mind. 

"  Hang  on  to  the  axle  !  "  I  said  to  myself,  as 
if  someone  were  bidding  me  for  the  first  time  to 
hope.  I  seemed  suddenly  to  be  able  to  think  ; 
to  fix  my  mind  upon  the  world  outside  of  this 
whirling  inferno — this  circle  of  torture. 

Madden  fort,  I  surmised,  was  at  the  throttle, 
and  Kelly,  my  friend,  must  be  in  the 
cage  shooting  down  the  shaft — both 
of  them  oblivious  of  what  their  daily 
routine  could  mean  to  the  unfortu- 
nate man  being  whirled  and  tossed 
to  his  death  inside  the  drum. 

Hoping  against  hope,  I  clung  to 
the  axle  while  it  turned  ceaselessly 
and  relentlessly.  I  lay  upon  my 
abdomen  as  limply  as  I  could,  relax- 
ing my  whole  body.  The  solid  shaft, 
nearly  a  foot  in  diameter,  seemed  to 
fit  me  perfectly.  But  I  was  filled 
with  horror  as  I  thought  of  the  possi- 
bility that  some  slight  part  of  my 
clothing  —  a  button,  or  even  my 
watch  —  might  prevent  free  revolu- 
tion under  me.  The  smallest  change 
in  the  delicate  adjustment  of  balance 
I  was  maintaining  so  anxiously 
meant  that  by  a  single  quick  turn  I 
should  be  flung  down  again  to  the 
bottom  of  the  drum,  amid  that  bed 
of  ragged  and  torturing  spikes.  I 
could  hope  for  no  second  fortunate 
chance  to  carry  me  to  the  top  and 
drop  me  directly  on  that  saving  axle. 
Smooth  and  polished  as  the  iron  shaft  was,  it 
seemed  to  grind  into  my  very  vitals.  But  it 
offered  sweet  relief  as  compared  to  those  bolts 
below,  above,  and  everywhere  about  me,  with 
sharpened  points  grappling  for  me  at  every  turn. 

And  all  the  time  the  great  drum  revolved, 
while  I  made  my  last  desperate  juggle  with  my 
pain-racked  body  for  the  sake  of  the  little  life 
that  was  still  left  within  me.  Scarcely  three 
minutes  had  passed,  but  they  seemed  three  days 
to  me. 

After  four  hundred  and  fifty  feet  of  the  rope 
had  uncoiled  the  drum  stopped  suddenly,  in 
order  to  let  the  "fire  boss"  get  off  at  the  first 
mine  lift.     That  stop  saved  my  life. 


Summoning  all  the  strength  remaining  in  my 
aching  form,  I  pulled  myself  up  over  the  axle, 
grasped  a  spoke,  and  swung  clear  out  of  the 
side  of  the  drum  to  the  Boor  above.  I  was  not 
a  fraction  of  a  second  too  >oon.  The  next 
instant  the  drum  resumed   its  whirl  the 

mine  cage  dropped  to  the  bottom  of  the 
two  hundred  and  seventy-five  feet  below.      I 
I  not  acted  the  instant  the  drum  stopped,  death 
would  have  stepped   into  that  living  tomb  and 
claimed  me. 

As  the  drum  resumed  its  dizzy  whirl  I  tun 
my  eyes  away,  fearing  to  lose  my   balance  and 
again  fall  into  its  torturing  maw.     The  spi 
seemed  to  form  one  continuous,  dazzling 
of  light,  while  the  bolts,  which  a  second  before 
stood  out  plain  and  distinct,  now  faded  from 


ENGINEER    MADDENFOKT,  WHO  WAS   OPERATING    THE    DRUM    WHEN    TH1  MET 

. . — .* 


Front  a] 


WITH    HIS    ADVENTURE. 


view. 


There  was  something   in    that   spinning 
cage   that   fascinated    me,    and    now    I    felt  an 
almost  irresistible  impulse  to  whirl  with  il 
It    may    be    that    the     revolutions     had 
sensation  resembling  that   which  one  has  after 
battling  among  heavy  ocean   billow 
every  time  you  close  your  eyes,  that  you 
still  being  tossed  by  the  waves.     And  so  I 
felt  myself  being  spun  and  spun  in  the  drum, 
although  I  fully  realized  that  1  had  been  m 
fully  delivered  from  its  clutches  and  was  1; 
safely  on  the  floor  a  few  feet  away. 

Exhausted  and  bleeding,  I  It  as  it 
bone  in  my  body  was  broken.  A  dim  i 
tion  came  over  me  that    I  would   fall  tain 


528 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


death  if  I  should  attempt  to  walk  along  the 
open  side  of  the  drum.  My  legs  refused  to 
support  me,  and  my  steps  were  more  unsteady 
than  a  drunken  man's.  So  I  crawled  on  the 
floor,  alongside  of  the  engine,  and  staggered  out 
in  front  of  Maddenfort,  who  was  standing  at  the 
lever. 

"Halloa,  Ed  !  What  are  you  doing  here?" 
he  asked,  in  astonishment.  Then  he  noticed  my 
plight  and  changed  his  tone.  "You  are  a 
sight  ! "  he  said.  "  What  on  earth  have  you 
been  doing  ?  " 

I    told    him    as   well    as    I    could    what    had 


I    TOI.U    HIM    AS   WELL    AS    I    COULD    WHAT    HAD    HAH'ENF.D 


happened.  At  first  he  refused  to  believe  it. 
But  when  I  showed  him  my  bleeding  hands, 
my  bruised  face,  and  torn  clothes  he  marvelled. 
Quickly  stopping  the  drum,  Maddenfort 
leaped  to  my  side  and  assisted  me  to  a  chair. 
Then  he  proceeded  to  examine  me  for  broken 
bones.  He  found  none.  Bruises  and  scratches 
were  there  in  plenty  ;  but  there  was  not  one 
fractured  bone.  I  rested  for  half  an  hour 
before  I  attempted  to  walk  to  my  home,  which 


was  only  three  hundred  yards  from  the  engine- 
house. 

The  whistles  had  scarcely  blown  for  work 
when  the  story  of  my  adventure  was  on  the 
tongue  of  every  one  of  the  six  hundred  men 
and  boys  employed  at  the  Burnside  colliery. 
Those  who  expected  to  see  me  sent  to  the 
hospital  were  surprised  the  next  day  when  I 
reported  for  work  as  usual. 

As  I  stepped  on  the  mine  cage  that  morning, 
however,  to  be  lowered  into  the  shaft,  the 
recollection  of  my  terrible  experience  came 
back  to  me  so  vividly  that,  as  every  foot  of  the 
cable  uncoiled  from  the  drum,  I  could  picture 
myself  being  whirled  to  destruction  inside  it. 
That  journey  to  the  bottom 
of  the  workings  seemed  twice 
as  long  as  usual.  Alighting, 
I  turned  to  the  "  inside 
boss." 

"  I    guess    I    won't    work 
down    here    to-day,"   I   said, 
faintly. 
«  Why  ?  " 

But  I  shook  my  head  and, 
boarding  the  next  cage,  was 
soon  on  the  surface,  safe 
and  sound,  and  feeling  much 
more  comfortable.  I  worked 
on  the  upper  ground  that 
day,  and  have  not  gone 
below  since.- 

How  I  escaped  alive  from 
that  whirling  drum  is  as 
much  a  miracle  to  me  to- 
day as  it  is  to  mining  experts 
throughout  the  United  States, 
who  have  declared  my  adven- 
ture unparalleled  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  coalfields. 

Those  three  thrilling 
minutes  spent  within  the 
whizzing  cylinder  will  never 
be  forgotten,  should  I  live 
to  be  a  century  old,  and  already  the  story 
of  the  experience  has  passed  into  mining 
tradition.  I  bear  no  visible  signs  of  the 
adventure  now  in  the  shape  of  broken  bones  or 
scarred  skin,  but  the  intense  mental  agony  I 
underwent  is  photographed  on  my  brain  so 
deeply  that  I  can  never  lose  sight  of  it.  Even 
now  I  sometimes  awake  at  night  streaming  with 
perspiration,  after  an  imaginary  struggle  with 
death  inside  a  moving  mine  drum. 


Eight   Years   Among   the   Afghans. 

THE    EXPERIENCES   OF    A    LADY    DOCTOR. 
By  Mrs.   K.    Daly,   Medical   Adviser   to  the  Goveunmeni   oi    Afghanistan. 

I.— ON    THE    ROAD    TO    KABUL. 

We  have  pleasure  in  presenting  this  remarkable  series  of  articles,  written  exclusively  for  '« The 
Wide  World  Magazine."  For  eight  years  Mrs.  Daly  has  lived  continuously  in  the  strange 
"closed  land"  of  Afghanistan,  acting  as  Medical  Officer  to  the  Government  and  Physician  to  the 
Queen.  During  this  period  she  has  had  countless  opportunities  of  gaining  an  insight  into  tin- 
inner  life  of  the  Afghans  and  their  country — a  land  which  is  hard  to  get  into  and  harder 
to  get  out  of.  Everywhere  she  went  Mrs.  Daly  was  accompanied  by  an  armed  escort,  and  she 
has  much  to  say  concerning  the  perils  and  humours  of  her  life  in  Kabul.  For  the  last  thi 
years  of    her    sojourn    she   was   the   only    white    woman    in    Afghanistan.       Mrs.    Daly's    narrative    and 

photographs  will  be  found  of  absorbing  interest. 


BEG  your  pardon,  but  my  servant 
tells  me  that  you  have  come  from 
Kabul  !     Is  it  true  ?  " 

Thus  was  I  accosted  by  a  lady, 
this  side  of  Ali  Musjid,  as  I  came 
through  the  Kyber  Pass  shortly  before  Christmas 
of  1903. 

"  Yes,"  I  replied.  "  It  is  true  that  I  have 
come  from  Kabul." 

"But,"  said  the  lady,  astonished,  "they 
wouldn't  let  me  go  there  ! " 

"  No,"  replied  I,  with  a  smile,  "  I  don't  think 
they  would." 

"  Yes  ;  but  they  let  you  go.  How's  that  ? 
How  did  you  get  there  ?  Is  your  husband  an 
official  ?  " 

"  No  ;  my  husband  is  dead,  and  was  never  in 
Kabul." 

Whereupon 
she  looked  very 
bewildered,  but  a 
light  began  to 
dawn  when  I  told 
her  that  I  had 
been  in  Kabul 
for  some  years. 

"Ah!  Then 
you  must  be  the 
lady  doctor.  I've 
heard  of  you. 
How  interesting  ! 
I'm  so  pleased  to 
see  you.  And  is 
this  the  convey- 
ance in  which 
you  have  come 
down  ?      What  a 

Vol.  xiv. — 67. 


curious  thing  it  is  !  It's  got  no  wheels  !  Aren't 
you  afraid  it  will  turn  over?  And  what  do  they 
call  it  ?  " 

Greater  heights  of  interest  were  reached  wl 
I  told  her  that  it  was  called  a    "  takht-rawan " 
or  "  moving  throne."     Erom  the  name,    by  the 
way,  it  is  quite  evident  that  this  was  the  <  om 
ance  formerly   used   by    Kings    when    on    their 
journeys  ;  and  to  this  day  these  weird  affairs 
not  owned  by  private  individuals,    but   are   the 
property   of    the    "God-granted    Government," 
and  are  only  allowed  to  be  used  by  members  <>f 
the  Royal  family  and  by  those  to  whom  special 
favour    is  being   shown.      The   fust    photograph 
shows  me  in    the   quaint   conveyance   which   so 
interested  my  voluble  acquaintan 

It  was  never  my  intention  to  write  anything 


iRESS    IN    Mi  H  r-RAWAN, 


From  a\ 


v.  CURIOUS 
FROM    KABUL. 


53° 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


about  Afghanistan  or  its  people  and  I  kept  no 
notes,  which  would  have  greatly  assisted  me  in 
such  an  undertaking.  I  only  do  so  now  at  the 
request  -  of  the  Editor  of  The  Wide  World 
Magazine,  and  because  such  extraordinary 
questions  have  been  asked  me  about  the 
country,  its  people  and  their  customs. 

It  is,  of  course,  impossible  for  the  outside 
world  to  know  anything  of  a  closed  country 
such  as  Afghanistan.  During  the  time  I  have 
been  there,  over  eight  years  (I  went  there  with 
Miss  Hamilton  as  her  assistant,  when  she 
returned  with  Prince  Nasrullah,  after  his  visit 
to  England),  only  a  dozen  people — English, 
German,  and  French — have  come  and  gone, 
most  of  them  coming  on  business  and  staying 
only  for  a  short  time.  They  saw  little  of  the 
real  life  of  the  country,  and  it  did  not  press  on 


allowed  to  go  at  once.  This  resulted  in  my 
being  sent  down  with  Mrs.  Fleischer.  It  is 
strange  how  in  this  world  one  event  overlaps 
another.  Had  Mr.  Fleischer  been  allowed  to 
accompany  his  wife  he  would  probably  have 
been  alive  to-day.  He  would  have  gone  to 
Germany  and  remained  there,  having  sufficient 
means  to  keep  him  in  comfort.  But,  instead, 
his  tragic  death  has  gone  to  swell  the  number 
of  murders  in  that  strange  closed  country. 

The  next  photograph  is  a  good  portrait  of  the 
murdered  man,  taken  on  a  hunting  trip.  In  the 
foreground  is  a  magnificent  man-eating  tiger 
which  fell  to  Mr.  Fleischer's  gun. 

Of  some  things  in  Afghanistan  one  cannot 
speak  or  write,  and  it  is  best  not  even  to  think. 
For  eight  years  Mr.  Frank  Martin  was  never  out 
of  the  country  and  never  had  a  holiday  of  any 


MR.    FLEISCHER,    THE   GERMAN    ENGINEER,    AT    HIS    HUNTING    CAMP — HE    WAS    RECENTLY    MURDERED   O.N    THE    BORDER. 

/■ ;  0111  a  Photo. 


them   as  it  did  upon  us  who  were  continuously 
living  there. 

Twice  during  the  eight  years  I  was  sent  down 
to  India  on  business — the  first  time  to  bring  up 
Mrs.  Martin,  the  wife  of  the  engineer-in-chief, 
and  the  second  time  to  take  Mrs.  Fleischer,  wife 
of  the  chief  of  the  gun  factory — who  has 
recently  been  killed  on  the  border — and  her 
two  children  to  Bombay.  Mr.  Fleischer  asked 
leave  to  take  his  family  home  to  Germany. 
The  Ameer  replied  that  there  was  some  special 
work  which  he  wished  Mr.  Fleischer  to  attend 
to,  and  when  that  was  done  he  might  go.  Mr. 
Fleischer   then    insisted    upon    his   wife    being 


sort.  The  only  change  he  could  get  was  to  put 
up  a  tent  on  the  roof  of  his  house  and  call  it  his 
"summer  health  resort."  When  he  did  get 
down  to  India,  what  a  treat  it  was  to  see  an 
English  Tommy  Atkins  and  look  at  bungalows 
and  drive  over  good  roads  again  !  When  he 
came  into  Peshawar,  he  said,  "  Don't  speak. 
Don't  interrupt.  I'm  enjoying  myself."  He 
was  looking  at  the  barracks  !  He  could  have 
spent  hours  just  looking  at  the  people  driving  by 
in  their  carriages.  Oh,  to  be  among  one's  own 
people  once  more  !  None  but  those  who  have 
been  away  in  a  strange  land  for  a  long  time  will 
understand    what    we   felt    when    we    reached 


EIGHT    YEARS    AMONG    THE    AFGHANS. 


From  a] 


Landi-Kotal  on  the  way  down,  and  were 
welcomed  by  English  officers.  I  overheard 
one  of  my  attendants  say,  "  They  are  her 
own  relations."  But  I'm  afraid  the  officers 
would  not  have  been  flattered  by  such  strange- 
looking  relations.  We  were  more  like  specimens 
for  the  Zoo  than 
anything  else.  As 
one  of  them  once 
said  to  me  :  "  You 
are  better  looking 
when  you  go  up, 
but  much  more 
interesting  when 
you  come  down." 
How  kind  our 
own  people  were, 
and  how  they 
understood  one  ! 
What  pleasant 
faces  they  had  ! 
And  yet  it  took 
some  time  before 
we  could  become 
one  of  them. 
We  had  been 
away   in    that 

other  world  so  long  that  we  felt  as  if  we  could 
only  watch  the  people  and  things  as  onlookers 
who  watch  a  play,  not  taking  part  in  it.  We  felt 
ourselves  old-fashioned  and  not  in  the  running 
at  all,  but  behind  all  this  there  was  an  odd 
feeling  that  we  had  had  experiences  of  life 
and  death ;  had  been  behind  the  veil  and 
seen  things  face  to  face  as  but  few  see  them. 

Many  people  are 
anxious  to  penetrate 
into  this  country  with 
closed  doors  lying  on 
our  borders.  But  it  is 
a  difficult  undertaking. 
It  is  so  easy  to  close 
those  doors  with  that 
wall  of  mountains  shut- 
ting Afghanistan  off 
from  the  world. 

Before  being  allowed 
to  proceed  through  the 
Kyber  Pass  you  must 
have  a  written  passport 
from  the  Political 
Officer  commanding 
the  Kyber.  To  get 
this  you  must  produce 
the  Ameer's  authority 
showing  that  he  wishes 
you  to  go  to  Kabul. 
Then  the  Political 
Officer    writes     to    the        From  a} 


MR.    FLEISCHERS    RESIDENCE    IN-    KAl;UL 


r 


Sarhung  at  I  >akka,  the  first  station  on  the  Afghan 
frontier  (the  Sarhung  is  the  offi<  er  on  the  Afghan 
frontier  who  corresponds  to  our  <  lommissioner  at 

Peshawar),  asking  if  th  1  to  take  you  up  to 

Kabul  is  there.   If  so.  you  are  allowed  to  prrx 
Truly  it  is  a  difficult  country  to  get  into,  but 

still  more  dift! 
to  get  out  of.    As 
a   matter  of   fa 
if    the    Afj 
cared    to    ki 
one,   it  would  be 
quite    impossible 
to  get  away.     I 
British     guard 
Orts  you  as  far 
as   Landi-Khana, 
where  you  are  met 
by    the     Afghan 
soldiers.     If  they 
wish    to   do   j 
special  honour 
the     Sarhung 
meets    you    with 
your  guard    fi 
[Photo.        Kabul     as     well 
as     his     o  w  i , 
border    police.       I     have    had    as     many    as 
fifty  soldiers  with    me   from    Landi-Khana  to 
Dakka.      I    know  the   road   fairly  well,    ha\ 
been  up  three  times  and  down  three  times,  but 
never  was  the  journey  twice   the  same.     It    is 
always  wearisome  and  tedious,  taking  from  ten 
to   twelve  days  from  Peshawar  to  Kabul.     My 
first  journey  up  was  the  worst  for  me,  becauv    1 

then  had  my  first  attack 
m     of  malarial  fever,  con- 
tracted    in     Peshawar. 
My    temperature    rose 
to   one    hundred    and 
six,    and    I    had    three 
wet  packs  on  the  road. 
We  did   not  delay 
my  account,  as  it 
thought    best    to    : 
on,  and  that  the 
of    air    would    do    me 
good.     The  jourm 
which    I    had    ! 
trouble  from  th 
or  anyoi  the 

one   down. 
-  the  ni' 

■ 

way  I 

could     then 

of   ti  try. 

the     r<  t,     but 


St 


1 

i 


m 


DALY   ON    H 


[P/tofc. 


5.32 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


From  a] 


ONE   OF    THE   WORST   STRETCHES   ON    THE    KABUL    ROAD. 


{Photo. 


perhaps  the  worst  part  of  the  road,  because 
the  hottest,  is  shown  in  the  above  picture.  As 
you  will  see,  it  is  a  land  of  stones ;  there  is  no 
shelter,  and  the  sun  beats  down  mercilessly.  I 
got  my  face  so  blistered  crossing  this  place  in 
February,  the  cold  season,  that  I  could  not  bear 
to  wash  my  face  for  days,  and  looked  anything 
but  beautiful  when  we  finally  reached  Kabul. 
This  is  a  piece  of  country  between  Jellalabad 
and  Fateabad,  and  here  there  must  at  one  time 
have  been  a  great  lake.     The  late   Mr.  Guthrie 


described  his  experience  in  this  place.  He  said  : 
"  I  was  utterly  exhausted,  and  my  tongue  was  so 
dry  that  I  could  not  speak,  and  it  fairly  rattled 
in  my  mouth.  Water  did  me  no  good.  At  last 
one  of  the  soldiers  gave  me  a  piece  of  rhubarb, 
with  which  I  rubbed  my  mouth  and  then  ate  a 
little,  which  relieved  my  thirst." 

The  geological  formation  of  the  country  is 
very  wonderful.  What  tremendous  force  it 
must  have  taken  to  move  whole  mountains  so 
that  the  strata  are  perpendicular  !     I  never  took 


Front  a\ 


A    CAMI'lNG-<. ROUND    EN    ROUTE   TO    I  II E    CAI'ITAL. 


Photo. 


EIGHT    YEARS    AMONG    THE    AFGHANS. 


a  book  with  me  on  these  journeys  ;  the  book  of 
Nature  was  too  interesting  forme  to  need  one, 
and  I  often  used  to  find  pleasure  in  thinking 
what  a  happy  hunting-ground  this  will  one  day 
be  for  our  scientists. 

In  another  picture  our  tents  are  being  put  up 
before  our  arrival,  between  two  shallow  streams 
of  water.  The  ruby  mines  are  near  here,  and  at 
this  place  we  always  had  a  lot  of  trouble  to  get 
provisions.  The  soldiers  would  come  back  with 
very  little  after  being  away  foraging  for  hours. 
A  camp  of  fifty  or  sixty  horses,  besides  camels 
and  donkeys  and  about  fifty  human  beings, 
required  a  lot  of  food. 

After  leaving  this  place  we  went  over  some 
rough  country  and  over  high  mountains,  taking 
the  famous  Lata-Bund  Pass,  or  "  Rag-bound 
Pass,"  on  our  way.  Here  we  saw  thousands  of 
bits  of  rag  tied  to  the  bushes.  The  legend  runs 
that  women  will 
have  healthy  chil- 
dren and  gain 
favour  in  the  eyes 
of  their  lords  if 
they  tie  a  piece 
of  cloth  on  to  a 
1  ush  in  the  "  Rag- 
bound  Pass." 
Certain  pre- 
scribed prayers, 
of  course,  accom- 
pany the  cere- 
mony. It  is  an 
extraordinary  ex- 
hibition of  super- 
stition, and  is 
most  implicitly 
believed  in   by    thousands 

Next  we  came  into  a 


From  a] 


ANOTHER    OF    MKS.     DALYS    CAMPS. 


of 


Afghan 


women, 
part  of  the  country 
where  volcanic  eruptions  must  have  occurred 
comparatively  recently.  Here  are  to  be  seen 
hundreds  of  lava-cones,  big  and  little — some 
looking  like  the  head  of  a  family  with  his 
children  gathered  around  him.  The  craters  are 
of  various  colours  and  are  never  twice  the  same, 
but  constantly  change  with  the  weather. 

The  first  view  the  traveller  gets  of  the  Valley 
of  Kabul  is  from  a  high  point  in  the  road  wind- 
ing over  the  mountains.  This  is  about  two 
days'  journey  away. 

When  we  got  to  the  last  stage  the  horses 
made  a  great  noise,  whinnying  and  wanting  to 
gallop.    ^They  knew  they  were  nearing  home. 

Soon  we  were  within  the  six-mile  radius  of 
Kabul  Kotwali  (police-station),  outside  of  which 
no  one  is  allowed  to  go  without  a  rah-dari  (r< 
pass).  To  leave  the  country  without  a  rah-dari 
—and  this  is  only  granted  for  special  reasons  to 
certain  people— is  a  capital'  crime,  and  pui  ish 


able  by  death.      But,  v<  iu  will   saj .  "  '•' 

ile  must  be  to  return  to  b  If  tl 

arc  out,  why  don't  tip  )  >Ut  ?  " 

But    this   difficulty   has 
Bef<  »re  a  man  is  allowed  1 1  >untry 

he    must   give  hostages    for    his  return.     It 
fails  to  do  so,  the  penalty  must   b  by  the 

unfortunate  hi  i  His  I  imily  will 

in  prison  and  all   his  property  confi 
the  same  fate   will   happen  to  th 
went  surety  for  him.      In  this 
tell  you  a  story  which  will  show  you   thai 
of   these    people    can    l>e    unselfish    and 
One  evening,  about  six  o'clock,  1   was  walk 
along  the  road  to  \isit  one  of  my  patient  . 
I   heard  the  big  gun  go  off.      This  -tin  is  l 
every    day    at    twelve    o'clock    to   tell    tl. 
when  everyone  who  po  >  a  watch  bring 

out  and  regulates  it.      It  is  also  fired  dui 

1' 
/an,  in  op 
the     pi  ople     ii 
know      when      to 
break     their     : 
— there   are    no 
public    cloi  ks    in 
Afg  hanistan 
a  n  d  o  n  S  t  a 
occasions      Royal 
salutes     are     I 
in   honour  of    the 
Ameer.      It 
heard     it    fire    at 
any     other     t 
w  e    k  n  e  w     that 
someone     had 
been    blown    to 
pieces.     So  I  said  to  one  of  my  guards,  "  W 
is  that?"     The  soldier  looked  very  grave.     "  ll 
is  a  soldier,"  the  man  replied,  "who  ran  away  to 
India:  but,  on  hearing  that  his  wife  and  family 
had  been  put  in  prison,  returned  to  the  country 
and  gave  himself  up.      He  arrived  in  Kabul  this 
morning,  and  has  just  been  blown  to  | 

As   we   went   along   the    road    into    Kabul 
passed  to  the  left  the  Bala  Hiss.ir  (Higl 
the  old   Royal  residence.     X"  English  i 
woman  will  'ever  pass  this  place  without  think 
of  the  Cavagnari   Mas  rid  of  I 

of  brave  men  who  fought  and  fell  tl 
such     dreadful     odds.        Till     tl 
!      [tenant  Hamilton  is  spoken  ol   i     K 
the  "  brave   Feringhee." 
up  there  Miss  Hamilton  i 
his  father  asking  if  she  could 
,,f  :  I  s   death.        A 

i  nit  to  get  to  know  anytl 
fortune  I  met  a   man   wh 

t    his.       During   tl 


534 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


THE   BALA   HISSAR,    OR    HIGH    FORT,    WHERE   CAVAGNARI    A\D    Ills    GA1 

From  a  Photo. 


THEIR    LAST   STAND. 


Residency,  he  said,  he  had  offered  Lieutenant 
Hamilton  a  disguise  in  which  he  would  convey 
him  away.  The  young  officer,  however,  refused, 
and  died  at  the  post  of  duty. 

One  of  Ameer  Yacoob's  slave  girls  who  is  still 
in  Kabul  told  me  that  she  was  in  the  room 
when  Yacoob  got  the  news  that  the  British 
Residency  had  been  attacked.  She  described 
his  distress  to  me — how  he  threw  himself  on  the 
ground,  calling  on  Heaven  to  know  what  he 
should  do.  Afghan  ladies  have  also  described 
to  me  their  terror  and  flight  from  the  palace 
when  Lord  Roberts  came  up  with  his  avenging 
army. 

The  late  Ameer  had  the  ground  hereabouts 
turned  up  several  times,  searching  for  buried 
treasure  which  was  reputed  to  lie  there.  The 
present  Ameer,  however,  has  had  it  made  into  a 
garden  with  a  summer-house  and  band-stand, 
and  so  this  monument  of  Afghan  treachery  and 
British  valour  and  vengeance  is  at  last  covered 
up. 

Inside  the  old  walls  of  the  Bala  Hissar  is  the 
"  Black  Well "  —a  place  more  dreaded  by 
Afghan  prisoners  than  anything  else.  To  be 
blown  from  a  gun  or  hanged  only  means  a  short 
time  to  suffer,  but  to  be  condemned  to  be 
incarcerated  in  this  black  hole,  there  to  die  a 
lingering  death,  is  a  fate  awful  to  contemplate. 
There  was  a  rumour  that  the  well  was  to  be 


filled  up,  but  whether  this  has  been  done  or  not 
I  cannot  say.  As  you  can  quite  understand,  I 
never  went  to  see  any  of  these  places  of  punish- 
ment. 

Native  ladies  have  told  me  that  when  they 
were  girls  they  were  not  allowed  to  look  out 
into  the  road.  They  were  told  that  if  they  did 
they  would  see  an  Englishman,  which  meant 
that  they  would  be  cursed  for  ever„  in  this  life 
and  the  next !  As  one  old  man  said  to  me, 
however,  "  All  this  has  been  changed  since  you 
came.  It  used  to  be  that  when  I  saw  an 
Englishman  I  wanted  to  kill  him,  but  I  want  to 
shake  hands  when  I  see  one  now." 

This,  of  course,  was  said  in  time  of  peace. 
It  sounds  very  nice,  but  such  a  statement  is  not 
to  be  depended  upon.  If  trouble  arose,  it  is 
very  likely  that  the  old  hereditary  instinct  to 
kill  the  Feringhee  would  be  revived. 

'•'  Feringhee "  means  to  the  Afghans  more 
than  foreigner  ;  it  means  "  unbeliever,"  an 
enemy  of  the  faith  and  of  God.  It  is  in  this 
question  of  religious  difference  that  our  danger 
lies,  and  over  which  much  blood,  both  British 
and  Afghan,  has  been  spilt. 

I    have    been    cursed,    derided,    stoned,    and 
insulted    as    "  the    Feringhee."       On    looking 
around,  the  perpetrators  of  these  deeds  could 
never  be  found.     The  soldiers  of  my  escort - 
they    accompanied    me    everywhere  — used    to 


EIGHT    YEARS    AMONG    THE    AFGHANS. 


exclaim  indignantly  and  look  to  me  for  orders  ; 
but  I  knew  that  in  their  hearts  they  were  really 
applauding  the  deriders.  For  an  instant  I 
would  be  angry  at  these  insults,  but  then  I 
thought,  "They  don't  know  what  they  are 
doing  ;  they  really  believe  that  we  are  the 
children  of  the  Evil  One."  People  at  home 
would  be  shocked  if  they  knew  with  what 
wickednesses  the  Afghans  credit  us.  They  think 
that  it  may  not  be  good  policy  to  injure  the 
Feringhee  personally,  but  they  do  not  think  it 
wrong  to  he  of  or  to  him,  to  cheat  or  steal  his 
goods,  or  indirectly  cause  him  pain  or  suffering. 
If  opportunity  offers  they  will  not  hesitate  to 
torture  or  even   kill    him  ;  for   they  say,  "  Is  he 


were  more  than  gold  or  wealth,  as  I    »h< 
the  benefit  of  them  both  in  tins  world  ami  the 
one  to  come.     Their  best  wish  lor  me  was  that 
I  might   become  a   Mohammedan.     This    « 
apart  from    the    credit    to    thi  .    for    the 

greatest  service  they  can  do  tor  their  relig 
to  make  converts.     "Oh!   it    you   would   only 
become  a   Mussulman,"  was  their  cry,  ami  tl 
really  meant  it  for  my  good. 

I    have    often    been   embarrassed   by  ; 
throwing  themselves  at  my  feet, 
do  something  for  them.     Others  would  ask 
just  to  touch  them  with  my  ham  Is,  if  1 1 1 ■ 
no  medicine  to  cure  them.     Some  would  timidly 
rub  their  hands  over  my  dress,  evidently  thinking 


From  a] 


A   GENERAL   VIEW 


not  the  enemy  of  the  Mussulman,  and,  there- 
fore, of  God  ?  " 

On  the  other  hand,  as  the  reliever  of  pain 
and  healer  of  the  sick  I  have  been  lauded, 
blessed,  and  prayed  for,  and  even  pointed  out 
as  an  example  for  Mussulmans  to  copy.  I  was 
told  that  I  had  the  prayers  of  Mussulmans,  which 


that  some  magic  virtue  appertained  even  to  my 
clothes.  Sometimes  a  patient  who  had  I 
under  treatment  would  be  returning  to  his  home 
cured,  and  the  waiting  crowd  would  be  bidden 
to  "all  take  off  your  hats  and  pray  for  Intern 
Sahib."  The  picture  of  those  praying  crowds 
remains  in   my  memory  to-day. 


(To  be  continued.) 


MY     INITIATION. 


By  J.   O.  Grey. 

The  author  is  an    officer    in    the    Mercantile    Marine,  and  here  describes  his  first  trip  to  sea  on  board 

a  North  Sea  fishing-boat.      As   he   remarks,  it  is  a  wonder   that    the   terrifying   experiences   which  he 

underwent   during  that  short  cruise  did  not  turn  him  against  the  ocean   for  the   rest  of  his  life. 


CHURCH  clock  had  just  boomed 
out  the  hour  of  seven  through  the 
keen,  brisk  air  of  a  beautiful  morn- 
ing in  early  November  as  the  steam 
fishing-boat  Scotia,  one  hundred  and 
ten  tons  register,  cast  off  her  moorings  in  the 
Tyne  and  began  to  make  her  way  slowly  and 
cautiously  amongst  the  many  vessels  towards 
the  open  sea. 

In  and  out  we  moved,  guided  by  the  strong, 
steady  hand  of  Bill  Stevens,  our  skipper,  crossing 
this  one's  bo-\s,  running  under  that  one's  stern, 
but  never  touching  anything.  

We  had  made  an  early 
start  so  as  to  reach  the  fish- 
ing grounds  before  dark  and 
make  hay,  or  rather  to  catch 
fish,  while  the  sun  shone  ; 
and  certainly  the  present 
prospects  were  all  in  our 
favour. 

But,  early  as  we  were,  we 
were  not  the  only  boat 
astir.  As  we  drew  out  from 
amongst  the  shipping  into 
a  clearer  part  of  the  river 
the  paddle  tug  Stag  was 
seen  plunging  along  in  our 
wake,  going  for  all  she  was 
worth  and  overhauling  us 
hand  over  hand. 

The  Stag  had  been  the 
boat  to  fly  the  "  cock "  at 
the  mast-head  for  speed 
before  the  Scotia  was  built, 
and,  although  there  had 
never  been  a  proper  trial 
between  them,  it  was  an 
understood  thing  that  the 
Scotia  was  the  better  boat. 
And  now  here  was  the  very  opportunity  for  her 
to  wrest  the  coveted  "  cock  "  from  her  rival. 

"  D'ye  see  the  old  Stag  there,  Bill  ?  "  sang  out 
our  engineer.  "  We'd  better  get  a  move  on  us, 
else  he'll  lick  us  all  to  bits." 

"  Don't  worry  yourself,  man  ;  just  let  her  go 
canny  and  get  up  a  good  head  of  steam  till  he 
gets  alongside,"  replied  Stevens.  "Then  we'll 
let  him  see  what  we  are  made  of. 

"  What  cheer,  Joe  Boag  !  "  was  his  hearty 
greeting,  as  the  Stag  ranged  alongside. 


THE   AUTHOR,    Ml..    J.  O.  GRKY,    WHO    HERE    DESCRIBES 
HIS     FIRST     TRII'    TO     SEA. 

From  a  Photo. 


"  What  cheer,  Bill  Stevens  !  Which  way  are 
you  going  ?  " 

"About  sixty  miles  north-east  of  the  Long- 
stone.     Are  you  going  out  ?  " 

"No;  we're  just  going  up  as  far  as  North 
Sunderland,"  answered  Joe  Boag.  "  I'll  tell  you 
what,  Bill  ;  we'll  give  you  a  run  up  as  far  as 
St.  Mary's  Island.  I'll  bet  you  a  sovereign  we 
beat  you  by  a  quarter  of  a  mile  and  still  fly  the 
cock." 

"  Done,  Joe,  my  lad,"  cried  Stevens,  enthu- 
siastically.    "Now,   then,  Jack"— this    to    the 

engineer — "let  her  go." 

The  engines  were  opened 
out  and  the  good  old  Scotia 
leaped  forward,  seemingly 
knowing  she  had  a  tough 
opponent  to  beat.  With 
clouds  of  black  smoke 
pouring  from  the  funnels, 
engines  throbbing  to  their 
utmost  capacity,  the  spark- 
ling spray  sheering  away 
from  the  bows  and  falling  in 
beautiful  rainbows  in  the 
bright  sunshine,  the  two 
vessels  raced  on,  side  by 
side,  broadside  to  broad- 
side, like  two  racehorses 
running  neck  to  neck,  each 
straining  to  get  the  better 
of  the  other,  yet  neither 
gaining  an  inch.  The 
stokers  down  below 
worked  like  demons  and 
the  two  skippers,  hold- 
ing their  respective 
wheels  in  an  iron  grasp, 
tried  by  all  the  little 
moves  known  to  them 
to  outwit  one  another. 

On  we  went,  on  and  on,  as  though  lashed 
together  ;  away  past  the  Priors  rocks,  away  across 
the  bar,  both  boats  still  holding  their  own;  then, 
by  an  excellent  move  on  our  skipper's  part,  we 
obtained  an  inside  position.  The  captain  looked 
more  grim  and  determined,  the  engineer  simply 
poured  oil  on  his  engines,  the  fireman  redoubled 
his  efforts,  and  we  scraped  round  the  North  Pier 
buoy  and  out  into  the  open  sea,  leading  the  Stag 
by  a  couple  of  yards,  which  was  hailed  by  a  great 


MY    INITIATION. 


537 


cheer  on  board  our  vessel.  As  we  drew  out  into 
the  open  the  Scotia  soon  showed  a  slight  advan- 
tage over  her  more  cumbersome  rival  in  the 
choppy  little  sea  kicked  up  by  the  brisk 
northerly  breeze,  and  continued  to  draw  away 
from  her  until  there  was  almost  a  boat's  length 
between  us.  Everyone  thought  that  Joe  Boag 
would  have  to  acknowledge  himself  beaten,  when 
a  hail  from  him  told  us  he  had  not  yet  given  up. 
"  Don't  think  you  are  finished  with  me  yet. 
Bill  Stevens,"  he  shouted ;  "  I  haven't  been 
skipper  of  this  old  boat  over  twelve  years  for 
nothing  ;  you  may  keep  ahead  of  me,  but  I'll 
be  hanged  if  you'll  get  away  from  me."  Then, 
with  a  turn  of  his  wrist,  he  gave  his  vessel  a 
little  starboard  helm  and  sheered  across  fair  in 
the  wake  of  the  Scotia.  This  manoeuvre  gave 
the  Stag  the  advantage  of  perfectly  smooth 
water  and  also  the  benefit  of  the  "  backward 
draught "  which  always  hangs  in  a  ship's  wake. 

And  so  we 
went  on,  stem 
to  stern,  mile 
after  mile, 
twisting  and 
turning  all 
ways  to  shake 
them  off,  yet 
to  no  purpose. 
Our  crew  were 
obviousl-y 
angry  by  this 
time  and  the 
skipper  fum- 
ing, while  the 
Stag's  people 
laughed  and 
enjoyed  our 
discomfiture 
immensely. 

And  now 
St.  Mary's 
Lighth  ou  s  e 
was  looming 
largely  on  the 
horizon,      and 

another  half-hour's  steaming  would  bring 
us  abeam  of  it,  so  that,  if  we  wanted  to  win 
the  race,  something  must  be  done,  and 
done  quickly. 

Hard-a-port  swung  our  helm,  hard- 
a-port  went  the  Stag's;  again  the  Stag 
swung  round,  still  following  in  our  wake 
like  a  shadow,  whilst  a  derisive  laugh  was 
borne  across  the  sea  towards  us  ;  again  and 
again  was  this  repeated,  but  all  in  vain 
we  could  not,  with  all  our  superior  speed 
and  skillul  handling,  shake  her  off. 

Things    were     looking    desperate    when 

Vol.  xiv.-68. 


our  skipper  leaned  over  the  bridge  and  asked 
if  they  could  not  get  another  turn  out  ol  the 
engines. 

"If  we  do,  we'll   hurst  her  up,  Dill  '      was  the 
reply. 

"Well,   we'll  have  to  do  something;  we   will 
risk     the     bursting,    but     leal     that    fell 
must." 

The  boilers  throbbed  and  the  engim 
with  the  extra  pressure  put  upon  them 
little  boat  fairly  leaped  through  the  water.  I  hen 
of  a  sudden  the  wheel  was  whizzed  like  a  Hash 
hard  over  to  port.  Round  swung  the  Scotia 
like  a  gull  on  the  wing,  and  round  came  the 
Stag  in  our  wake,  but  before  she  had  tune  to 
check  herself  our  helm  was  as  quickly  sent  over 
to  starboard,  and  back  we  flashed  again,  this 
time  clear  across  the  bows  of  our  rival,  almost 
running  her  down.  Then  we  sheered  away  and 
began    to    drop  her    astern,    and    only    just    in 

time,  for  ten 
minutes  lab  r 
we  passed  the 
lighthouse.  ^ 
had  won  the 
race,  and  a 
mighty  cheer 
e<  hoed  ovi  r 
the  sunny 
answered  by  a 
shout  from 
Joe  Boag. 

-Well  done. 
Bill  St.  v 
he    roared. 
"You've    beat 
me    both 
and    square, 
and    I'll    !)■  V 
the    sovereign 
and    the   co<  k 
ready  for  you 
when    you 
back    again 
to     Shieli 

and 
good   luck   to 

Pa  s     i  n  g 

I  - 
land 

house,     wh 

in 

Ml  V  CHEER   EC 


53« 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


greeting  to  the  old  keeper  as  we  steamed  past. 
( )ur  course  was  now  altered  to  due  north-east  for 
the  fishing  grounds,  where  we  should  arrive  about 
an  hour  before  sunset,  leaving  a  good  margin  to 
"shoot  the  lines  "  before  it  got  fairly  dark. 

The  cook,  a  boy  of  fifteen  years  or  there- 
abouts, in  blue  flannel  .shirt  and  greasy  pants, 
now  announced  dinner,  and  leaving  him  to 
steer  for  the  present  all  hands  tumbled  down 
below  to  refresh  the  inner  man  with  huge  hunks 
of  roast  beef  and  potatoes,  baked  fish,  and  suet 
pudding,  a  very  wholesome  if  very  plain  dinner. 
It  was  not  long,  though,  before  I  was  glad  to 
escape  up  into  the  fresh  air  again  ;  the  jumpy 
motion  of  the  vessel,  the  stuffy  smell  of 
engine-room  and  bilge  water,  and  the  unmistak- 
ably greasy  appearance  of  the  dinner  gave  my 
stomach  some  decided  qualms,  though  I  most 
indignantly  protested  against  the  suggestion  that 
I  was  sea-sick. 

After  dinner  was  finished  and  pipes  were  filled 
and  lighted  the  hatches  were  taken  off  and  the  task 
of  getting  ready  for  fishing  was  begun. 
First  of  all  twelve  huge  baskets  were 
hiuled  up  on  deck,  each  containing 
half  a  mile  of  line.  Two  hundred 
hooks  were  attached  to  every  one  of 
these,  with  a  space  of  a  few  yards 
between  each  hook ;  next  came  the 
baskets  of  glittering  fresh  herring 
which  were  to  be  used  as  bait.  We 
had  now  begun  to  come  in  sight  of 
the  vessels  on  the  banks,  and  by  the 
time  all  hands  had  hastily  swallowed 
a  mug  of  tea  and  eaten  a  piece  of 
bread  we  had  arrived  at  the  fishing 
grounds.  Skipper  "  Bill "  took  the 
wheel,  the  engines  were  slowed 
down,  and  without  more  ado  the 
crew  took  up  their  stations  and 
commenced  to  shoot  the  lines. 

First  of  all  the  buoy,  or  "  dan  " 
as  it  is  called  (a  piece  of  cork  about 
two  feet  square,  through  the  centre 
of  which  passes  a  long  pole  bearing 
a  flag,  and  with  a  weight  at  the 
lower  end  so  that  it  will  stand  up- 
right in  the  water)  was  put  over- 
board with  the  extreme  end  of  the 
first  line  attached.  Then,  as  the 
boat  moved  ahead,  the  line  was 
paid  out  by  one  man,  while  another 
baited  the  hooks.  The  first  line 
was  bent  to  the  second  one,  and 
so  on,  the  men  working  thus  in  re- 
liefs, until  all  of  them  were  shot. 
Another    "  dan "  was    then    made 


stopped  and  the  vessel  laid  to,  "dodging  the 
dan"  and  waiting  for  next  morning  to  haul  in 
the  lines  again,  laden  with  the  denizens  of  the 
deep.  Then  we  should  set  off  at  full  speed  for 
the  market. 

But  what  a  lot  was  to  happen  before  then, 
what  anxious  hours  we  were  to  pass  through, 
what  dangers  to  face  and  overcome  !  Could 
anyone  on  board  the  Scotia  have  known  what 
was  before  him  as  we  proudly  steamed  out  of 
the  River  Tyne,  this  voyage,  at  least,  would 
never  have  been  made. 

It  was  about  two  bells,  or  one  o'clock  in  the 
morning.  All  hands  had  turned  in  as  soon  as 
the  lines  were  shot,  leaving  one  man  on  deck 
to  "dodge  the  dan,"  intending  to  have  a  good 
sleep  and  make  an  early  start  in  the  morning. 
Suddenly  we  were  rudely  aroused  by  the  look- 
out bellowing  down  the  companion-way,  "  Come 
on,  lads  ;  tumble  up  and  get  the  lines  hauled  ! 
There's  a  north-easter  coming,  by  the  look  of  it." 

In  an  instant  every  man  was  out  and  hurriedly 


fast    to    the   end,    with   a 
lamp  on   it.      Then    the 


lighted 
engines 


IN    AN    INSTANT 


EVERY   MAN    WAS   OUT   AND    HURRIEDLY   GETTING    INTO    HIS   GREAT 
SEA-BOOTS   AND   OILSKINS." 


M\     INITIATION, 


getting  into  his  great  sea-boots  and  oilskins. 
Then,  pulling  their  sou'-westers  well  down  on 
their  heads  and  great  woollen  mittens  on  their 
hands,  they  rushed  up  on  deck.  1  also  got  up 
and  dressed  as  quickly  as  I  could,  though  greatly 
inconvenienced  by  the  motion  of  the  boat,  which 
had  begun  to  bob  up  and  down,  round  and 
round,  in  a  most  bewildering  manner,  making  it 
very  difficult  for  me  to  keep  my  feet  and  causing 
me  to  hang  on  more  than  once  to  prevent  my- 
self being  pitched  violently  back  into  my  bunk 
again. 

When  I  did  reach  the  deck  I  could  not  help 
being  struck  by  the  great  change  that  had  come 
over  the  weather  since  turning  in.  Then  the 
heavens  were  resplendent  with  myriads  of  stars, 
twinkling  in  an  almost  transparent  sky.  Now 
low-flying  masses  of  cloud  chased  each  other 
across  the  sky  from  a  huge  black  bank  on  the 
horizon,  occasionally  lit  up  with  a  flash  of 
lightning.  The  wind,  though  still  light,  was 
moaning  through  the  rigging  like  some  human 
being  in  distress.  A  long  swell  swinging  away 
from  the  north-east,  in  which  the  old  Scotia  was 
wallowing  and  groaning,  told  plainly  of  the  gale 
we  might  soon  expect.  Speed  and  dispatch  was 
the  order  of  the  day,  or  rather  night,  if  we 
meant  to  get  the  lines  hauled  and  way  on  the 
boat  before  the  storm  broke.  Everyone  moved 
swiftly  and  silently  about  their  various  occupa- 
tions, scarcely  daring  to  speak  above  a  whisper. 

Flares  were  lighted,  and  the  Scotia  was 
steamed  up  to  the  "  dan,"  which  was  quickly 
dragged  on  board.  The  line  was  seized  upon 
by  two  fishermen,  while  a  third  stood  by  with  a 
picket  (a  pole  with  a  sharp  hook  at  the  end), 
hooked  the  fish  as  they  appeared,  and  hauled 
them  on  deck,  to  be  unhooked  by  another  man 
and  then  passed  along,  and  so  on  down  the 
holds.  The  engines  all  this  time  were  kept 
going  slow  astern  so  as  to  keep  the  least  weight 
on  the  line.  One  basket  had  already  been 
hauled  and  another  started  on  and  still  the  gale 
had  not  reached  us,  though  the  swell  was  now 
more  perceptible  and  the  moaning  in  the  rigging 
had  increased,  accompanied  with  occasional 
little  puffs  of  wind  and  wet  sleet.  The  darkness 
closed  in  around  us,  blacker  and  still  blacker. 

And  now  here  was  the  end  of  the  second 
line,  and  the  third  was  just  started  upon  when 
out  of  the  north-east  came  a  blinding,  dazzling 
flash  of  lightning,  a  mighty  roar  as  of  a  thousand 
demons  let  loose,  and  with  a  shriek  and  a  howl 
the  storm  burst  upon  us. 

"  Make  fast  the  line  to  the  dan  and  throw  it 
overboard ! "  rang  out  the  command  of  the 
skipper,  heard  even  above  the  din  of  the  gale. 
"  Batten  down  all  hatches  ;  stand  by  the  engines, 
Jack."     Then,  turning  to  the   cook,    who   was 


al  o  on  deck,  he  cried  :  "Jump  down,  for  jrour 

life,    .ind    I. '11    the    fir- man    to 

steam  he  i  an  ;  the  soonei  om  tins 

the  bett 

The  lines  W(  in  cast   ■  id  with   the 

"dan"  attached,  everythin 
secured,  the  engines  started  full  speed  ah 
and  the  Scotia  swung  slowly  round  on  i 
helm,  and  we  were  <>n     i  unni 
gale,  which  shrieked  higher  and  high 
by  this  time  with  the  force  of  a  tornado.      I 
sea  began  to  lash   and  rage,  as  though  angry  at 
our  flight. 

Through  the  remaining  hours  of  that  terrible 
night— which  to  me  seemed  endless     tl 
old   Scotia    staggered   along  before    the    storm, 
which    lashed   itself    to   greater   fury    with  . 
succeeding  squall  of  blinding  snow.     When  at 
last  the  daylight  came,  struggling  out  of  a  leaden 
sky,  it  brought  with  it  but  little  reli<  I  :    it  only 
seemed    to    heighten    the  horror   of  the 
Before  we  could  only  imagine,  now  we  could 
see,   and  the  fury  of  the  elements  was  terrible 
to  behold. 

To  help  tl\e  labouring  boat  along  the  i 
was  now  given  to  set  the  fore  and  mail 
trysails,    and    while    this    was    being   done    the 
Longstone  Lighthouse  hove  in  sight  through  the 
flying  spoon-drift,  to  be  lost  again  in  an  instant 
as  we  flashed  by  and  disappeared  in  a  scurrj 
snow   squall.     Forty  miles  more  and.  all  bi 
well,   we   should    be   safe  in  the    Tyne.     Sui  h 
was  everyone's    thought    as   he  came  beloi 
partake  of  a  much-needed  cup  of  cofB 
had  the  men  taken  their  seats,  however,  when 
a   squall,   fiercer  than   all    the   rest,   struck   our 
devoted  little  vessel.     Over  she  went,  until  we 
thought  she  must  capsize.     All  hands  made  a 
scramble  for  the  hatchway,  tumbling  one  i 
the  other  in  their  mad  haste  as  the  voice  of  Bill 
Stevens  bellowed  down  the  companion  way  :  — 

"On  deck,  every  mother's  son  of  you.  and 
these  trysails  in.     Jump  for  your  lives,  else  this 
is  the  last  of  us  !  " 

With  difficulty,  yet  within  a  few  seconds  or  so, 
the  halyards  were  let  go. 

"Ease  off  the  sheets  !"  came  the  i  ler. 

The    helm    was    put    hard    up,   and    th< 
careened  more  and  more,  till  now  the 
was  awash.     Such  was  the  fearful   list 
that  the  jaws  of  the  gaffs,  jamming  hard 
the   mast-heads,   absolutely  i   I 
sails  come  down  !     Nothing* 
unless  the  masts  carr 
despairingly  at  each  ot 
to  the  weather-rail.     "Weari 
was  the  thought  in  every  mind  at  t!. 
moment. 

But  what  is  this  ?     A 


540 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


his  way — Heaven  alone  knows  how — along  the 
deck  to  windward.  It  was  Davy  Young,  and  he 
had  an  axe  in  his  hand.  Slash,  slash ;  he  was 
cutting  away  the  weather  backstays  !  One  more 
cut  and  away  went  the  foremast  over  the  side, 


wreckage  and  speed  on  our  way  with  a  muttered 
prayer  for  our  vanished  comrade,  invoking  a 
blessing  on  the  poor  wife  and  little  ones  left  to 
mourn  his  loss. 

After  the  squall  had  passed,  enabling  us   to 


'.? 


HE    WAS   CUTTING    AWAY   THE   WEATHER    BACKSTAYS 


almost  at  the  same 
moment  as  the  main- 
mast fell  by  the  board, 
cut  away  by  Tom  Stone- 
house.    We  were  saved  ! 

Just  as  the  Scotia, 
relieved  of  the  great 
pressure  which  had 
been  dragging  her  over, 
sprang  up  like  a  cork  and  made  a  heavy  roll  to 
windward,  a  huge  green  sea,  higher  than  all  the 
rest,  broke  full  on  board.  Over  us  it  rushed  in 
anger,  tons  and  tons  of  water  in  one  mighty, 
irresistible  flood,  sweeping  everything  before  it. 
Ugly  as  it  was,  however,  the  good  old  Scotia 
was  equal  to  it.  Shaking  herself  like  a  great 
Newfoundland  dog,  she  rolled  the  mass  of  water 
off  her  deck,  stood  upright,  and  again  sprang 
forward  with  renewed  energy.  But  where  was 
Davy  Young  ?  We  looked  around.  He  was 
there  before  the  sea  struck  us,  but  now— —  ! 

Poor  Davy  was  gone ;  he  had  saved  our  lives 
and  the  vessel— at  the  cost  of  his  own.  We 
could  do  nothing — nothing  but  clear  away  the 


ffitf'l.  see    a    few    hundred    yards 

ahead,  a  Scotch  fishing-boat 
was  sighted  driving,  like 
ourselves,  before  the  gale, 
carrying  a  whole  mainsail 
and  leaning  over  at  a  dan- 
gerous angle. 

"  That  man's  a  fool,  who- 
ever he  is,  showing  so  much  canvas  in  such 
a  weight  of  wind,"  cried  our  skipper.  "If  she 
should  happen  to  broach-to  nothing  could 
prevent  her  from  going  over." 

Presently,  as  we  watched,  she  began  to  yaw 
about.  There  was  evidently  something  wrong 
with  her.  The  tiller  ropes  were  carried  away, 
the  helmsman  was  knocked  overboard  by  the 
madly-swinging  tiller;  then  the  boat,  with  a  wild 
lurch,  rushed  up  in  the  wind's  eye.  She  hung 
there  for  a  moment,  then  like  a  flash  she  went 
over.  For  a  few  seconds  her  mainsail  lay  flat 
on  the  water,  then  gradually  disappeared  from 
view  as  first  her  bilge  and  then  her  keel  came 
uppermost. 


MY    INITIATION. 


"Volunteers  for  the  boat's 
crew !  Who'll  make  the 
attempt  to  rescue  yon  poor 
souls  ?  "  roared  Bill  Stevens. 

There  was  no  need  to  ask. 
Already  the  men  were  cutting 
and  hacking  at  the  boat's  lash- 
ings. There  was  no  time  to 
wait  for  gear  and  tackles  to 
hoist  her  out.  We  could  do 
without  them  when  human 
lives  were  at  stake.  With  a 
heave  of  muscular  arms  the 
boat  was  lifted  bodily  up  and 
flung  over  the  side  into  the 
raging  sea.  Almost  before 
one  could  speak  four  men  had 
jumped  into  her  and  shoved 
off. 

"Hold  on,  lads!"  yelled 
Stevens.  "  Here,  take  the 
wheel  one  of  you,  and  let  me 
come  in  the  boat." 

"  Stop  where  you  are,  Bill 
Stevens  ;  there's  none  can 
handle  the  Scotia  like  you," 
came  the  answer  ;  "  we'll  save 
'em  if  it  is  possible  for  man 
to  do  it." 

Away  they  went,  away  to 
the  rescue,  battling  and  strug- 
gling with  the  angry  waves, 
which  threatened  every 
moment  to  swamp  the  little 
craft.  Nothing  dismayed,  how- 
ever, they  struggled  on  and 
on.  Now  they  were  perched 
on  top  of  a  combing  sea,  now 
lost  to  sight  in  the  valley  of 
the  waters,  but  ever  drawing 
nearer  to  the  wreck.  They  reached  it — to  find 
nothing.  Not  a  sign  of  a  man,  living  or  dead. 
Only  the  name  of  the  boat  they  got — the 
Margaret  and  Jane,  which  had  sailed  out  of  the 
harbour  with  us  only  yesterday.  Sorrowfully 
the  boat  was  pulled  back  and  ranged  along- 
side. Then,  watching  their  chance,  the  men 
sprang  on  board,  and  the  Scotia  was  again 
kept  away  before  the  gale. 

The  sea  was  now  a  little  better,  for  we  were 
benefiting  by  the  shelter  of  the  Fame  Islands, 
though  the  air  was  thick  with  flying  snow  and 
sleet,  making  it  quite  impossible  to  see  more  than 
a  boat's  length  away.  One  of  the  men  was  there- 
fore sent  forward  with  instructions  to  keep  a 
good  look-out  for  the  Coquet,  which  we  knew, 
by  the  distance  run,  we  must  be  getting  close 
down  to. 

Bill  Stevens,  having  been  relieved  for  a  few 


THE   BOAT   WAS    LIFTED    BODILY   Ul'   AND    H.UNG    UYEK     I  hi 


minutes,  stood   in    the  corner  of  the  pilot 
stamping  his  feet  and  beating  his  hands,  which 
were   frozen    with    the   intense   cold,   trying 
induce  circulation. 

"Land  close  on  the  starboard  b 
warning  cry  rang  out  with  startling  distim  in 
Through  a  break  in  the  storm-laden   sky  .1  I 
low  line  of  grey   coast,  with  a   \ 
foam  at  thi  n,  and  th< 

d  down  till  we  were  running  parallel  wit': 

All   was    well  ;    we    v. 
somely  and  should  soon  I 

"  Land  on  the  port   bow  ' 
re? 

••  breaker^  righl 

Breakers       1 1  in  that   be 3     V 

we?   "Good  h 
the  Coquet  to  windward  ! 

The  skipper  made  a  mad  rd     With 


542 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


a  sweep  of  his  arm  lie  dashed  aside  the  man 
who  held  the  wheel  ;  niceties  are  not  thought  of 
in  moments  like  these.  He  seized"  it  himself 
and  glanced  quickly,  desperately  round. 

Land   close  aboard   to   starboard,  land  close 
aboard  to  port,  breakers 
ahead  !      If    we    altered 
the   course  one  way  we 
should  go  on  the  coast, 
if  we  went  the  other  way 
we     must     go    on     the 
Coquet.     If  we  kept  on, 
what  awaited  us?     Only 
too   well    we 
knew,     and 
every     man's 
heart  stood  still 
with  the  fear  of 
the    horrible 
death  confront- 
ing  us — to   be 
smashed      and 
battered  to 
pieces  amongst 
those   cruel, 
merciless 
rocks.  Was  this 
to   be  the  end 
of  it  ?     Was  it 
for  this  that  we 
had     struggled 
through    the 
darkness     and 
peril  of  the 
past  night,  and 
surmounted 
the    dangers  of 
the    livelong 
day  ?     Was  there  no  hope  ? 
even  at  the  eleventh  hour  ? 

"  The  channel  —  the  channel !  "  shouted 
Stevens,  at  last.  "  It  is  our  only  chance  !  Every 
man  stand  by  to  jump  for  his  life  !  " 

Our  only  chance  !  Yes ';  but  it  would  need 
a  higher  power  than  that  given  to  man  to  guide 
us  safely  through  such  a  channel  as  the  one  he 
mentioned.  Not  more  than  fifty  feet  in  the 
widest  part,  and  bordered  on  either  hand  by 
rows  of  sharp,  jagged,  teeth-like  rocks,  to  touch 
which  meant  instant  annihilation,  it  was  a 
passage  which  one  would  think  twice  ere 
attempting  to  take  a  small  boat  through  even 
in  the  best  of  weather.  Yet  we  must  essay  it 
Dr  perish. 

Oilskins  were  torn  off,  sea-boots  thrown  to 
one  side,  and  guernseys  and  nether  garments 
followed.  Everyone  stood  with  despair  in  his 
heart— literally  facing  death. 


WITH    A   SWEEP   OF    HIS   ARM    HE    DASHED   ASIDE   THE    MAN   WHO    HELD    THE    WHEEL. 


Must  we  succumb 


On  rushed  the  Scotia,  straight  into  the  heart 
of  that  boiling  surf.  Up,  up,  and  ever  upwards 
she  mounted  to  the  top  of  a  mountainous  sea, 
almost  standing  on  end.  An  instant  she  paused, 
staggering   on   the   summit  ;  then,  as  a   wail  of 

agony  was 
wrung  from 
our  hearts,  she 
hurled  herself 
forward.  She 
sank  down, 
down  into  the 
swirling,  eddy- 
ing masses  of 
water  in  the 
channel,  just 
scraping  past 
the  dead ly 
rocks  on  either 
hand.  Another 
instant  and  we 
were  out  at  the 
other  end. 
Heaven  be 
praised;  we 
were  saved  ! 

Away  down 
the  coast  sped 
the  Scotia, 
seemingly  with 
fresh  life  in 
her  t  i  mbers. 
Away  past 
Hartley,  Whit- 
ley, Culler- 
coats,  and 
Tynemouth, 
and  so  into 
the  comparative  shelter  of  the  piers.  The 
river  was  plentifully  strewed  with  wrecks  on 
either  hand,  telling  the  awful  tale  of  destruc- 
tion, of  the  number  of  our  brave  sailors  who 
were  sleeping  their  last  sleep  beneath  the 
angry  waters,  and  of  the  women  and  children 
wearily  watching  and  waiting  for  the  loved  ones 
who  would  never  return.     . 

The  fishing -boat  Margaret  and  Jane  was 
towed  into  the  Tyne  the  following  day,  bottom 
up,  with  hatches  battened  down  and  the  bodies 
of  seven  fishermen  in  sea-boots  and  oilskins  in 
her  little  cabin. 

Such  is  the  true  story  of  my  experiences  in 
the  great  gale,  so  destructive  to  life  and  property, 
which  swept  the  North  Sea  in  November,  1881. 
Though  I  have  followed  the  sea  as  a  profession 
since  then,  I  often  sit  down  and  wonder  why  I 
was  not  turned  against  salt-water  and  everything 
else  seafaring  by  "  My  Initiation." 


f[AIZC(/£%ITE%03Y. 


1  Hits/ rated  with  Photographs  taken  by  Count  Adrien  ran  der  Burch. 

Being  a  brightly-written  account  of  a  six  weeks'  walking   tour   through    the    very  heart    of  Japan, 

following   the   old   pilgrim   roads,  and  penetrating  into   the   most    unknown    regions   of  Old   Japan. 

Mrs.  Roby  is  the  first  white  woman  to  make  the  journey,  and   her  experiences,  as  here  set   forth. 

are  both  interesting  and  amusing. 

III.— DOWN   THE   NAKUSENDO. 


EFORE  describing  this  part  of  our 
journey,  I  must  preface  it  by  saying 
that  the  course  of  the  Nakusendo — 
river  and  old  feudal  way — is  from 
Oya  to  Kyoto  towards  Tokyo, 
passing  through,  the  provinces  of  Yamashiro, 
Omi,  Mino,  Shiushu,  Kotsuke,  and  Husashi. 
The  great  road  was  built  in  the  eighth  century, 
and  was  much  frequented  under  the  old  regime 
by  the  great  feudatories  obliged  to  pass  some 
months  every  year  at  the  Court  of  the  Mikado. 
Since  the  construction  of  the  railway  and  the 
abolition  of  the  old  customs  the  Nakusendo 
route  has-  been  gradually  deserted,  but  it 
possesses  considerable  interest  for  the  traveller 
desirous  of  penetrating  the  intimate  life  of 
Japan,  and  one  is  well  repaid  for  the  journey 
by  the  stretches  of  beautiful  country  unfolded 
along  the  route. 

After  a  long  and  painful  stage  from  Oya  to 
Shimo-no-Sawa,  on  the  summit  of  the  passes  of 
the  Wade-Toge,  we  came  upon  one  of  those 
beautiful  vistas  which,  it  is  safe  to  say,  Japan 
alone  can  show.  We  were  at  an  altitude  of 
six  thousand  feet,  on  a  plateau  covered  with 
cryptomerias  and  dotted  with  groups  of  pine. 
Near  by  a  group  of  tombs  surmounted  by  figures 
of  divinities  recalled  to  us  the  fact  thai  in 
a.d.  1563  six  warriors,  surprised  by  the  enemy, 


followed     the    Japanese     custom    of    bar. 
rather  than  surrender. 

From  here  the  mountain  went  down  in  gentle 
slopes  towards  deep  valleys  covered  with  thick 
forests.        Everywhere     in      the     distam 
ranges  of  mountains,  on  the  tops  of  which  ■ 
numerous      cemeteries,     consecrated      t<>      the 
divinities  whose  names  they  hear.      I  rom   I 
too,  could  be  seen  lying  in  the  distan  lake 

Sawa,    which    we    had    planned    to    reach    that 
evening,  and   beyond,  in  the  clear  atm 
could    be   discerned   the   cone  ol  I  uji 

yama.     The  road  was  bordered  with 
houses,  which  formerl) 
barons  going  up  to  Tokyo,  d  in  m 

precious     lacquer,    but    which     now     harl 
nothing    better    than     thi 
whose  sole  bag  hat  an< 

One  goes  miles  without  seeinj 
The    country    appears    deserted 
industry  of  th<  ins  is  timber  cuttii 

timber    sold    is    confided    to    !!•       ri> 
planks,   but   the    trunks   then. 
singly  into  the  stream,  ma 
the  proprietors,  who  : 
in  the  port  of  arrival.       I 
in  thousands  the  wooden 

1    ill    place   th     : 
trade  them  thn 


544 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


**         ^ 

.    ., 

\ 

L>        %i*3 

*  "■ 

hUB 

s     "      fl^H 

»f 

"*^3 

tox^*? 

G&iZx-M     *'    4Bf 

'  rf^Ljt^ 

FlOlll  a]      THE  AUTHORESS  AMID  A  GKOUF  OK  "  NASANS  "  (WAITRESSES).       {Photo. 


From  Karuizawa  I  had  enjoyed 
the  pleasures  of  my  own  rickshaw, 
which  had  come  up  with  our  other 
baggage  from  Yokohama.  The 
men  were  obliged  to  walk,  for  on 
search  being  made  Oza,  like  Shiba, 
had  no  rickshaws.  I  felt  something 
like  an  uncrowned  queen,  and  in- 
dulged in  derisive  jeering  at  the 
rest  of  the  party.  My  triumph  was 
again  a  short-lived  one,  for,  to  my 
disgust,  the  road  proved  impos- 
sible for  rickshaw  use,  and  I  was 
obliged  to  allow  the  wheels  to  be 
taken  off  and  to  permit  the  body 
of  the  vehicle  to  be  carried  by  two 
coolies,  while  the  third  carried  the 
wheels  of  my  dismembered  carriage. 
This,  however,  was  only  for  a  little 
way,  when  I  was  again  obliged  to 
walk,  this  time  over  terrible  roads, 
where  my  feet  were  soon  cut  and 
bleeding.  We  had  now  reached 
the  foot  of  the  Wade-Toge  passes, 
about  six  thousand  five  hundred 
feet  up,  but  even  this  was  easy 
travelling  compared  to  the  going 
down  which  came  later.  I  would 
not  say  a  word  for  fear  the  men 
would  give  up,  and  on  we  marched 


up  the  Shojire-Toge  to  Nugama, 
where  we  rested  for  the  night. 

It  was  here  that  two  beautiful 
Nasans  (waitresses)  came  forward  to 
look  after  our  comfort — two  of  the 
most  beautiful  girls  I  remember  see- 
ing in  all  Japan.  I  must  say  they 
paid  a  great  deal  more  attention  to 
the  men  than  to  myself.  Our  Silent 
One,  whom  we  had  not  hitherto 
suspected  of  being  impressionable, 
made  some  irrelevant  suggestion 
about  putting  up  at  the  tea-house  for 
a  couple  of  months,  but,  no  attention 
being  paid  to  him,  preparations  for 
departure  were  pushed  forward  the 
following  morning  and  we  were  off 
again,  this  time  for  the  Tori-Toge 
passes,  so-called  from  the  big  tori 
(arch)  on  its  summit  and  the  tombs 
surrounding  it.  The  Tori-Toge  is 
eight  thousand  seven  hundred  feet 
above  sea-level. 

Shimo  no-Sawa,  on  the  lake  of  the 
same  name,  has  two  temples,  which 
are  ornamented  with  beautiful  sculp- 
ture. These  are  known  as  the 
Temple  of  Spring  and  the  Temple 
of  Autumn,  titles  which  are  also  given 


From  a] 


THE    ARCH    AT   THE   SUMMIT    OK    THE    TORI-TOGE    PASS.  [PkotC 


THROUGH    JAPAN    ON     FOOT 


to    the    divinities    enshrined    there,    and   whose 
worshippers  alternate  between  the   two   sanctu 
aries,  according  to  the  season. 

From  here  onwards  the  route"  presented  little 
of  interest,  but  it  was  somewhere  between 
this  stage  and  Azuma-Bachi  that  we  entered  one 
of  the  really  old  tea-houses  of  Japan  and  were 
entertained  there. 
My  own  recollec- 
tions dwell  upon 
it  with  the  keenest 
pleasure  of  the 
whole  journey. 

Imagine  a  large, 
low  room,  built 
entirely  of  bam- 
boo. A  big  stone 
square  let  into  the 
centre  of  the  floor 
was  the  fireplace, 
over  which  every- 
thing was  cooked. 
There  was  an  iron 
triangle  hanging 
from  the  ceiling, 
and  two  smaller 
ones  were  fastened 
to  the  floor,  on 
which  were  swing- 
ing kettles  and 
pots  and  pans  of 
every  size.  The 
fire  was  of  wood. 
Leaning  over  a 
large  pot-  was  the 
quaintest  old  bit 
of  Japanese  ivory 
femininity  in  all 
Japan.  Dropping 
her  spoon  when 
she  caught  sight  of 
me,  she  bowed  to 
the  earth  three 
times    with    many 

indra  wings  of  the  breath,  and  asked  why  the 
beneficent  O-Chi-San  should  honour  her  most 
unworthy  cooking-room,  which  was  not  fit  for 
her  foot  to  tread  ever  so  lightly  upon,  and 
which  would  ever  remain  honoured '  by  my 
graciousness,  etc. 

When  I  sat  myself  down  by  her  side  and 
commenced  to  peel  potatoes,  chop  up  chicken, 
and  put  everyone  in  a  general  hustle  to  bring 
me  what  I  wanted,  the  dear  piece  of  ivory 
observed  devoutly  that  it  was  the  first  time 
her  eyes  had  looked  upon  a  European  lady. 
Through  the  guide,  Moreye,  she  told  me  many 
little  tales  of  the  days  when  the  Mikado's  name 
could  not  be  spoken,  and  when  the  Shogun  and 

Vol.  xiv  -«q. 


From  a\ 


SOME   OF    THE   TOMIJS    IN    THE   TORI-TOCiE    PASS. 


1  >aimios  passed  through  the  countrj  and  stopp<  d 

at  her  tea  hou 

She  insisted  upon  fe<  ling  my  hair,  the  softm 

and  waviness  of  which  surprisi  mu<  h.    Bui 

when  she  walked  into  the  bath-room  later  her 

amazement      was    amu 

inquired  minutely  as  to  th(    colour  ol  the 

of    all    Euro| 
ladi.s.    "  But  your 
face,  ( ) '  'In  San,  is 
the    same    i  '.lour 

as  ours,"  she   said. 
"Why  should  your 
skin  be  so  whii 
When  1  i  xplaim  d 
to  her  that  the  sun 
and  rain  had  m 
me    brown,    ti 
were  more  indraw- 
ings    of    breath, 
bows,   and   wis 
of  good  health  and 
a    large    appetite 
3     ing    I    looked 
embarrassed      she 
then    left    me    to 
continue    m  y 
toilet,    but    I    felt 
ry  moment  that 
s  o  m  cone   el 
would    want     to 
look     at    me,    so 
getting     into     my 
kimono  I  went  into 
our    room  for  the 
dinner    I    was    so 
much  in  need  of. 

Si  ating     mysi  It 
on  the  fli  tor,  tailor- 
fashion,    my  back 
against     a     shoji, 
I     drew    a     small 
tabaret    over    my 
knees.  The  \ 
brought  in  the  dinner  1  had  cooked,  and  all, 
usual,  did  justice  to  it.      When  we  had  finished 
I  clapped  my  hands,  waved    to  the 
remove  the  dishes,  said  "  Futons  !  "  and  in  \~wx- 
minutes   my  bed  was   brought    to    me.      In 
minutes  I  was  fast  asleep.     At  eighl 
following  morning  we  left,  my 
senting  me  with  a  small  bottle  >  il  saki 
she  said,  and   good   to  drink  whi 
Thus,  with  many  smili  3   and  bows  and 
we  started  for  Azuma  B  i  hi.     TI 
led  the  march,  and  at  the  end    ot 
hours'    tramp    my    husband,    the    Silenl 
commissariat,  coolies,  etc.,  wi  re  miles  behind. 
We  entered  the  first  lit  the 


\ritoto. 


546 


THE    WIDE    WORLD     MAOAZINE. 


THE   CROWD    REGARDED    US    WITH    THE    UTMOST   ASTONISHMENT. 

From  a  Photo. 

arrival  of  the  rest  of  our  party  and  to  procure 
refreshment  in  the  shape  of  beer  and  eggs, 
which  are  nearly  always  to  be  had  wherever  you 
are  in  Japan.  A  Nasan  rushed  up  to 
us  on  entering  with  voluble  greetings, 
consisting,  we  presumed,  of  inquiries  as 
to  what  we  wished.  In  a  few  moments 
every  person  in  the  village  —  man, 
woman,  and  child — mingled  in  the 
crowd  surrounding  us,  and  regarded  us 
with  the  utmost  astonishment.  Our 
repeated  requests  for  beer  and  eggs* 
brought  us  everything  inedible  in  the 
house,  and  for  some  time  the  most 
original  contortions  employed  by  the 
Count  in  imitating  the  supposed 
methods  of  the  hen  in  delivering  these 
most  useful  comestibles  to  the  Japs  for 
the  benefit  of  hungry  Europeans  only 
succeeded  in  persuading  the  now  terri- 
fied Nasan  that  he  was  ill  !  Coming  to 
this  conclusion,  she  did  her  best  to 
provide  for  his  supposed  necessities 
and  was  further  distracted  by  his  re- 
fusing these.  Penetrating  eventually 
to  the  inn  storehouse,  we  succeeded  in 
finding  what  we  wanted  and  made  a 
good  meal,  my  husband  and  the  rest  of 
the  party  arriving  meanwhile  and  being 
greatly  amused  at  the  difficulties  created 
for  those  who  are  so  unwise  as  to  go 


on  in  advance  of  the  party  unaccompanied 
by  an  interpreter. 

From  this  place  we  sent  our  coolies  on 
in  advance  to  Azuma-Bachi  to  notify  our 
arrival  in  the  evening.  On  the  way  we 
bought,  through  Moreye,  two  ducks  for 
dinner,  the  costliness  of  which  —  that  is, 
two  -  and  -  six  per  couple  —  overwhelmed 
Moreye,  who  to  the  end  of  the  journey 
scarcely  ceased  to  apologize  for  the  in- 
adequacies of  the  district,  its  merchant 
class,  and,  in  fact,  the  whole  empire,  re- 
garding the  episode  as  an  ineradicable 
blot  on  Japanese  honour.  Passing  through 
NaganOkushi,  Fukushima,  and  Midono, 
we  arrived  horribly  tired  at  Azuma-Bachi, 
where  I  cooked  the  ducks.  Cooking  had, 
indeed,  in  these  later  stages  become  my 
chief  recreation  as  well  as  accomplish- 
ment, and  may  be  regarded  as  a  stern 
necessity  of  this  part  of  the  journey. 

On  this  occasion,  tired  of  being  sole 
pot-boiler,  I  set  the  men  to  work.  My 
husband  peeled  potatoes,  considering  him- 
self more  likely  to  prove  possessed  of  a 
certain  proficiency  in  that  art  than  in  pick- 
ing chestnuts  'or  the  stuffing  of  the  ducks. 
This  the  Count  undertook,  while   Moreye 

betrayed  no  distaste  and  considerable  aptitude 

for  the  task  of  stoning  raisins. 

The  following  morning  we  paid  off  our  coolies 


JARMING    VISTA    IN    THE   TEA-HOUSE   GARDEN    AT    FUKUSHIMA. 

from  a  Photo. 


THROUGH     fAPAN    OJS     FOOl 


and  quitted  the  Nakusendo  for  the  passes  of  the 
Odaira-Toge  to  Tida.  Here  we  rested  for  a 
couple  of  days,  intending  to  engage  boats  to  take 
us  down  the  rapids,  the  most  dangerous  in  fapan. 

But  it  began  to  rain,  and  for  three  whole  days  it 
simply  poured,  until  the  river  overflowed  its 
banks,  when  the  boatmen  refused  to  take  us 
until  the  stream  assumed  its  normal  level.  On 
the  fourth  day,  the  rain  having  ceased,  we 
moved  down  to  Takimata,  hoping  to  be  able  to 
do  the  rapids  from  here.  By  this  time  I  was 
tired  to  death  of  the  whole  thing,  and  was 
longing  to  get  to  Kyoto  for  a  good  rest.  But 
for  another  two  days  we  remained  at  Takimata 
in  a  miserable  little  tea-house,  the  three  men 
sleeping  in  one  room  and  I  cooking  and  sleeping 


1'it  alone  to  keep  his  word,  he  oc<  upied  himsell 
in  taking  down  minute  statisti*  ol  route  and 
distance  to  Nakatsu-Gawa      Here  we  were  to 

take    tram    1<>    N  id  ol    OUT  trip,  bill 

the  Jap's  id(  a  of  distano   i    m 

We  had  been  told  seven  r$,  and  in  this  a<  <  epl 
ance  we  started  on  pack-horses  in  torrent 
pouring  rain,  holding  oil  paper  umbrellas,  which 
we  had  to  throw  away  before  we  had 
tire  climb  up  proving  nearly  perpendi<  ular,  and 
both  hands  being  needed  for  clinging  round  our 
horses'  links.      Jerked  one  moment  almost  • 
their  heads,  the  next  sitting  on   their  tails,  our 
bodies   nearly   broken    in   hall    and  every   bom 
sore,  aching,  and  throbbing,  we  rode  for   nearly 
three  hours,  until   the  top  of  the  mountain   was 


THE   CASTLE   AT   NAGOYA,    WHERE   ARE    KEFT   SOME    FAMOUS   GOLDEN   DOLPHINS    VALUED    AI     FORTY     i 

From  a  Photo. 


in  the  other.  At  last  I  decided — rain  or  shine, 
rapids  or  no  rapids — that  I  would  move  on  the 
next  morning.  While  the  men  slept  I  sat  up 
and  cooked  our  meals  for  the  next  day.  It  was 
again  pouring  in  torrents,  so  I  told  the  proprietor 
to  engage  pack-horses,  as  we  should  leave  the 
next  morning. 

Early  next  morning  I  informed  the  party  what 
I  had  done.  My  husband,  the  least  energetic  of 
us,  was  furious.  He  was  not  going  to  ride  out 
in  such  torrents  of  rain  ;  such  a  fool's  proceed- 
ing he  had  never  heard  of,  he  said,  and  he 
should  remain  until  the  rain  stopped.  I  secured 
a  majority,  however,  and,  finding  he  might  be 


reached.     Dismounting  to  stretch  our  legs  and 
have  tiffin,  the  head  coolie  came  to  hurry  us  up. 
saying  that  if  we  wished  to  reach  Xakatsii  G 
that  evening  we  had   no  time  to   los 
many  morer/7"  we  inquired.      "About   fh 
he   answered,   and    off    we    started,    all   glad 
know  we  were  Hearing  the  en<  ir  jourru 

About  six  in  the  evening  we  v, 
very  dangerous  part  of  the  mountain,  fi 
an  extremely  narrow  path,  with  sheer  clifl   u 
our  right  and  a  drop  of  some  six  thousand  I 
on   our  left,   the  weather    torrential    rain,   when 
suddenly  a  thick  white  mist  spra  we 

were  unable  to  move  It  showed  us  that 


548 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


the  dangers  of  foot-travelling  in  Japan  were  not 
yet  passed.  Fortunately  for  us  all  One  coolie 
had  a  lantern.  He  lighted  it,  and  for  some 
distance  we  followed  him  slowly  step  by  step. 
Then  to  our  intense  relief  he  exclaimed  that 
there  must  be  a  village  near  as  he  could  hear 
noises,  and  bade  us  rest  our  backs  against  the 
mountain  side  while  he  went  on  to  get  assist- 
ance. After  what  seemed  hours  he  returned 
saying  he  had  found  a  farmhouse,  but  had  ex- 
perienced much 
difficulty  in  getting 
the  people  of  the 
house  to  allow  us 
to  sleep  there,  as 
they  had  never 
heard  of  Euro- 
pean s  com  ing 
across  that  moun- 
tain and  believed 
it  could  not  mean 
anything  good  to 
them.  He  begged 
we  would  come  on 
and  see  the  people 
ourselves.  Gather- 
ing courage  to 
continue  our 
dangerous  way  we 
arrived  at  the  farm- 
house. When  the 
good  people  saw 
me,  wet,  tired, 
bedraggled,  and 
carrying  in  my 
arms  a  small  Jap- 
anese "chin  "  dog, 
they  had  not  a 
word  to  say.  Their 
hospitality  was  un- 
bounded. Taking 
my  little  Kiku 
from  my  arms  they 
dried  and  nursed 
her  like  a  baby, 
the  children  going 
into  raptures  over 

her.    Neither  did  they  neglect  my  fox-terrier,  who 
sat  aside,  looking  on  in  true  wire-hair  fashion. 

In  a  very  few  moments  we  were  undressed 
and  taking  hot  baths,  while  the  woman  prepared 
us  a  supper  of  rice,  poached  eggs,  dried  fish,  and 
beer.  We  had  a  little  whisky  left,  so  I  made 
"  some  tea  with  a  little  velvet  in  it,"  as  the  men 
named  the  concoction.  Soon,  warm  and  con- 
tented, we  were  all  sound  asleep  in  bed.  It  was 
not  five  o'clock  next  morning  when  our  guide 
awoke  us,  telling  us  we  had  over  twenty  miles  to 
do  that  day  and  must  start  at  once.     In  twenty 


From  a\ 


A   THEATRE   AT    KYOTO. 


minutes  we  were  ready,  and  hastily  drinking  a 
cup  of  tea  and  taking  a  biscuit  in  our  hands  we 
mounted  our  animals  and  were  off  for  the  top  of 
the  mountain.  Here  we  had  to  dismount,  as 
the  horses  stumbled  and  fell  so  badly.  By-and- 
by,  Count  van  der  Burch  and  myself  leading,  we 
found  ourselves,  from  our  much  more  rapid  pace, 
again  a  long  way  ahead  of  my  husband  and 
Mr.  Crocker. 

In  the  hope  of  reaching  Nakatsu-Gawa  some- 
what earlier  than 
we  had  anticipated 
we  fell  into  the 
folly  of  taking 
short  cuts,  at  find- 
ing which  Count 
van  der  Burch  was 
usually  held  an  ex- 
pert. The  descent 
of  the  mountain 
through  magnifi- 
cent forest  was  a 
charming  piece  of 
route.  We  met 
many  Japanese  in 
single  file  who  were 
making  the  ascent 
as  a  pilgrimage. 
The  roadway  grew 
rougher  and 
rougher,  and  sooii 
our  waraji  (shoes) 
were  completely 
worn  out  from 
contact  with  the 
sharp  stones  in  the 
path.  About  mid- 
day we  stopped  at 
a  small  tea-house, 
where  we  had 
some  cold  rice  and 
a  cup  of  Japanese 
tea.  After  paying 
for  it  we  found  we 
had  not  a  cent  left 
between  us  and 
had  still  fifteen 
miles  to  go.  This  was  being  lost  with  a 
vengeance  !  We  took  our  courage  in  our  hands 
once  more  and  did  another  two  miles,  when 
happily  we  came  to  a  good  road.  But  the 
Count's  fondness  for  discovering  short  cuts  led 
him  to  point  out  what  appeared  to  be  the  most 
desirable  one  of  all,  and  I  fell  into  the  trap  once 
more  in  the  hope  of  lessening  the  distance  by  a 
couple  of  miles.  We  accordingly  scrambled 
down  a  road  that  must  have  been  untrodden  for 
ages,  and,  when  we  reached  the  bottom,  found 
we  had  come  certainly  three  miles  out  of  our 


\Photo. 


THROUGH    JAPAN    ON     FOOT. 


49 


way.     Our  shoes  were  cut  to  pieces,  and  we  had 
on  our  last  pairs. 

"I  cannot  go  another  step;  my  feel  are  so 
badly  cut  !  "  I  cried. 

"  Oh,  nonsense ! "  said  my  companion, 
cheerily.  "  You  cannot  give  up  now — and 
there  is  no  alternative.  We  are  sure  to  reach  a 
place  where  there  are  rickshaws,  and  then  we 
shall  ride  all  the  rest  of  the  way  !  " 

On,  on,  we  tramped  for  miles  without 
meeting  a  soul,  not  knowing  whether  we 
were  on  the  right  road  or  not.  At  last  we 
reached  a  small  village.  Seating  myself  outside 
a  house,  I  beckoned  a  woman  to  bring  me 
some  water  to  bathe  my  feet. 

After  bathing  my  feet  the  kindly  woman 
bandaged  them  up,  and  off  we  started  again. 
The  agony  of  that 
last  two  miles  was 
simply  indescrib- 
able, but  at  last 
we  reached  the 
station  tea  -  house 
of  Nakatsu-Gawa. 
An  hour  later  my 
husband  and  the 
Silent  One  rode 
in  —  in  rick- 
shaws ! 

We  left  Na- 
katsu-Gawa by  the 
railway  which  con- 
nects Kyoto  with 
Tokyo,  en  route 
for  Nagoya.  At 
Kyoto  we  spent 
some  days  and 
took  many  photo- 
graphs. 

During  the  last 
six  weeks  we  had 
traversed  the  heart 
of  the  empire 
of  the  Mikado. 
Following  the 
primitive    ways 


that  had  existed  for  centuries,  we  had  slept  in 

hotels  construi  ted  oi   wood   and  pap  r,  In 

the    life    whi<  h    the    old    ti  lived 

their  wandi  rings. 

the   people  ol    the  cities  tou<  hed    I 

civilization,  we  felt  that  we  had   in 

the  real  Japan. 

To  all  those  who,  lil.  it 

as  it  has  been,  I  say     M  Jap 

changed,  and  is  changinj  dine 

comfortably  in  your  hotel  at  Tokyo,  the  tal 
lighted  by  electricity,  served  by  a  ) i 1 1 1  •  ■  yellow 
man  in  a  black  coat,  you   look  at  him  and  j 
know  he  is  ''Japan.''     But  you  know,  too,  that 
he    will    never   again    know   the  difficultie 
scaling   a   mountain    path,   nor   experience  tin- 
pleasure,  aftei  a  long  stage,  of  stretching  him 

on  the  ri<  <  mat  of 
a  paper-built  inn  ; 
will  never  know 
again  the  \ 
bond  of  the 
straw  hat,  and 
the  girdle  contain 
ing  0    and 

the  tiny  pipe.    II 
pilgrims 
Covered  with 
mask  of  unpictur- 
esqu<      uniformity 
— the  ever-advai 
ing  civilization   ol 
the    West    -old 
J  a  p  an    will    1  >  e 
numbered   ami 
the  "  h 

and  only  the  gods 
on  the  top  of  it- 
mountain  heights 
will  be  Kit  to 
mourn  the  death 
of  all  that  i  - 
quaint  and  pictur- 
[Ue  in  I 
lutiful  Land  of 
the  Rising  Sun. 


From  a] 


A  STREET  SCENE  IN  KVOTO. 


The  End. 


The  amusing  experiences  which  befell  the  author  and  a  companion  on  the  way  to  a  new  mining 
"rush."  Mr.  Whalley  describes  the  humours  of  the  backwoods  hotel;  the  bloodthirsty  "  Colonel " 
with  the  hatchet ;    and  his  partner's  encounter  with  a    grizzly  bear,    which  had  a  startling  sequel. 


mm 


HERE  is  something  irresistible  in 
the  drawing  power  ot  a  "gold  rush," 
or  a  mining  excitement  of  any  sort. 
I  found  it  to  be  so,  at  any  rate,  in 
the  spring  of  189 — ,  when  the  surplus 
population  of  Canada  was  pouring  into  Da  Capo, 
and  from  Da  Capo  up  the  Slocan  River  trail 
into  the  silver-lead  area  of  the  Kootenay  district 
of  British  Columbia. 

During  the  winter  I  had  officiated  as 
accountant  in  a  bank,  but  when  the  snow 
disappeared  the  call  of  the  woods  and  the 
mountains  was  too  strong  for  me.  Resigning 
my  post,  I  started  off  on  a  prospecting  trip, 
which,  though  of  no  long  duration,  was  not 
altogether  without  interest  or  incident. 

My  "mining  partner"  was  popularly  known 
as  "Easy  Come" — his  godfathers  and  god- 
mother, I  believe,  were  the  only  people  who 
ever  knew  him  intimately  as  E.  C.  Comyns. 
He  was  a  light-hearted,  irresponsible  young 
Britisher,  with  some  money  and  a  great  par- 
tiality for  firearms.  His  name  fitted  him  as 
perfectly  as  his  skin. 


The  straps  of  our  packs,  small  though  the 
latter  were,  occupied  most  of  our  attention  for 
the  first  two  days  on  the  trail,  and  it  was  not 
until  we  reached  the  Half-Way  House,  on  the 
Slocan  River,  that  things  began  to  brighten  up 
a  bit. 

This  "  hotel "  was  a  long,  single-story  log 
building,  situated  on  a  bankof  land  overlooking 
a  bend  of  the  river.  The  main  building  con- 
tained, under  one  narrow,  low-pitched  roof  of 
split  cedar-shakes,  the  bedrooms  and  stables. 
Various  "  lean-tos,"  which  looked  as  though 
they  might  have  been  thrown  at  the  main 
building,  posed  *as  dining-room,  kitchen,  wood- 
shed, and  bar,  of  which  the  last-named  was  the 
largest  and  most  frequented. 

The  bedroom  consisted  of  a  long  alley-way, 
with  a  double  tier  of  bunks  on  either  side.  As 
Easy  and  I  were  the  last  arrivals  that  evening 
all  the  sleeping  accommodation  was  bespoke  ; 
but  through  the  kindness  of  a  packer  on  the 
mule  train,  who  was  too  far  gone  in  drink  to 
know  or  care  where  he  slept,  I  secured  posses- 
sion of  a  lower  bunk.     Easy  Come  was  not  so 


THE    ELDORADO    RUSH. 


fortunate,  having  to  content  himself  with  a  plank 
bed  on  the  floor  of  the  dining-room.  Nor  did 
all  my  efforts  on  his  behalf  avail  to  ameliorate 
his  hard  lot,  for  the  most  noticeable  feature  in 
the  management  of  this  hotel  was  an  edifying 
lack  of  undue  discrimination. 

In  order  to  avoid  the  terrors  of  book-keeping 
and  mental  arithmetic  the  scale  of  charges  was 
simplified  to  a  high  degree.  Everything  was  a 
dollar.  A  bed— either  in  a  bunk,  with  blankets 
provided,  or  on  the  floor,  finding  your  own 
blankets— was  a  dollar.  A  meal— breakfast  : 
beans,  bacon,  and  bread  ;  supper :  bread,  bacon, 
and  beans — was  a  dollar.  Although  drinks 
were  nominally  only  twenty-five  cents  each,  one 
was  expected  never  to  order  fewer  than  four  at  a 
time.  Further  than  this,  the  proprietors  went 
on  the  assumption  that,  as  they  provided  accom- 
modation for  all,  any  omission  to  take  advantage 
of  their  hospitality  was  a  piece  of  wilful  neglect 
on  the  part  of  a  ''guest,"  for  which  it  was  only 
reasonable  that  he  should  pay.  There  were  the 
bunks  ;  if  you  were  under  the  roof  it  was  your 
business  to  have  slept  in  one,  and  you  were 
charged  accordingly.  There  were  the  meals  ; 
if  you  were  in  the  immediate  neighbourhood 
when  one  was  in  progress,  no  one  was  to  blame 
but  yourself  if  you  failed  to  partake  of  it.  At 
all  events,  you  were  charged  a  dollar  on 
suspicion. 

There  was  no  mistake,  however,  about  the 
supper  that  Easy  Come  and  myself  ate  on 
arrival.  We  got  good  value  for  our  money,  if 
anyone  did,  after  which  we  adjourned  to  the  bar 
where  Easy,  in  his  genial  way,  fell  into  conversa- 
tion with  a  lanky  Yankee  mining  expert  (who 
scented  a  capitalist)  generally  known  as  "the 
Colonel." 

The  interval  between  supper  and  bedtime, 
though  short,  was  still  sufficiently  long  for  the 
Colonel  to  develop  a  disconcerting  faculty  for 
"  seeing  things  "  which  were  invisible  to  the  less 
spiritual  vision  of  anyone  else.  Somebody 
suggested  bed  as  an  alleviation.  The  Colonel 
agreed.  All  of  us  concurred  heartily,  though 
my  enthusiasm  waned  somewhat  on  discover 
ing  that  he  was  to  occupy  the  berth  above 
mine. 

As  the  Colonel's  groans  and  plunges  were  not 
particularly  noticeable  amidst  the  hurricane  of 
snores  which  swept  the  alley- way,  I  was  soon 
asleep,  only  to  be  awakened,  in  the  dead  of 
night,  by  someone  treading  on  my  face. 

It  was  the  Colonel,  getting  out  of  bed. 

Struggling  from  under  his  foot,  which  seemed 
to  be  as  extensive  as  a  table-top,  I  expostulated 
with  some  warmth. 

"  Shus-s-sh !"  cried  the  Colonel,  who,  as  I  cc  uld 
see  by  the  dim  light  of  the  lamp  which  burnt  at 


tlie  far  end  <<!'  ihe  alley-way,  had  something 
his  mind. 

"What's  ili,-  trouble?"  1  ask. 
"Shus  s-sh!"  he  repeati  d,  reaching  up  mi,,  his 
bunk  and  groping  under  the  pill. 

"Shush    be    hang,  d  !"   said    I.    hotly.      "  It 
you've  got  out  of  bed  specially  to  walk  all  i 
my  features  and  hiss  'Shush!'  you'd 
back  again  before  you're  thrown  back." 

I  was  getting  cross. 

"Shus-s-sh! "he  whispered  oncemore,  •'  I  >  Hi't 
wake  him  up." 

"Wake  who  up?1 

"That  dog-wallopin'  son  of  a  lollapaloozin' 
Britisher— him  that's  festooned  around  with 
knives  and  guns  and  things" — I  recognised  my 
partner.  "He's  asleep  on  the  floor  in  the 
dining-room.  So're  thirty  nine  other  shuckl 
sons  o'  guns." 

"•Well,  what  of  it  ?  " 

"What  of  it?"  ejaculated  the  (olo,„l.  "Why," 
— and  he  leered  cunningly  into  my  face  -  "  I'm 
goin'  to  cut  their  heads  off." 

And  he  meant  it. 

"Cut  their  heads  off!"  I  gasped.  "Cut 
their  heads  off!'' 

"  Betcherlife,"  said  he  ;  "an'  with  this  1; 

And  from   under  the  pillow  he   produced  a 
huge  broad-axe — a  weapon  weighing  some  ten 
or  twelve  pounds,  with  a  blade  a  toot  wide,  used 
for    flatting    the    timber   on    the    inner    sid 
log-houses. 

The  man  had  been  so  calm  and  collet  ted  that 
it  had  not  occurred  to  me  that  he  was  raving 
mad  with  delirium  tremens.  Now,  however,  it 
was  impossible  not  to  grasp  the  true  state  of  the 
case,  and  a  very  serious  case  it  was.  i 

Amidst  a  crowd  of  men  in  the  deep  sleep  of 
exhaustion  or  the  torpor  of  drunkenness,  I  was 
alone  with  a  homicidal  mania,-.  Upon  my 
immediate  action  depended  many  lives.  F< 
I  knew  would  be  useless.  I  should  be  as  a 
child  in  the  twenty-manpower  strength  of  his 
madness.  Without  conscious  thought  I  ask 
"Is  it  sharp?" 

"  As  a  razzer,"  said  he. 

"  H'm  !"  I  reflected.      "It's  a  pity,  i 

"Which?" 

"To  make  a  botch  of  a  good  job.'' 

"  Wotcher   gettin'  at?"  asked    th.     I 
suspiciously. 

"Why,   it's    just  this  way,"  1  answ   i  d,  with 
all   the   ease   and    assurance    I    could    mu 
"There's    that    greenhorn     of    a     I!:  and 

thirty-nine  other  silly  fellows  . 
of  the  dining-room,  as  you   say,  jusl   ac 
have  their  beads  i   !'  i 

"So  they  are,"ass<  nted  I      ■ 
are — -the  goose  neck,  d  hobo. 


552 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


"Well,"  I  continued,  "if  you  waltz  in  there 
now  and  begin  slashing  about,  you'll  bag  two  or 
three  of  them,  perhaps,  but  you'll  wake  all  the 
others  up,  and  they'll  be  just  wasted." 

"  Begosh,  you're  talkin',"  said  the  Colonel, 
thoughtfully.     "What'll  I  do?" 

"Well,"  said  I,  "if  you'll  take  my  tip  you'll 
climb  back  into  bed  and  wait  until  it's  lighter 
and  you  can  see  what  you're  at.  What 
d'you  think  ?  " 

"  Pardner,"  he  said,  with  an  air  of  deep  con- 
viction, '■'■you've  got  a  head  oh  your  shoulders, 
you  have  !  " 

The  compliment  was  received  with  much 
modesty  and  some  alarm.     My  neck  felt  obtru- 


(and  so  comparatively  safe)  that  there  was  no 
shortage  of  applicants  for  the  post  of  possible 
hangman.  To  our  indignation,  however,  the 
man  who  originated  the  idea  claimed  the  posi- 
tion as  his  by  right  of  discovery.     . 

In  the  course  of  the  subsequent  discussion 
the  Colonel,  getting  an  arm,  as  well  as  his  neck, 
through  the  noose,  struggled  out  of  his  bunk. 
The  anchor-man,  who  was  a  light  weight, 
proving  unequal  to  the  strain,  was  found,  at  the 
end  of  the  proceedings,  tightly  jammed  between 
the  top  of  the  partition  and  the  ceiling,  to  his 
manifest  (and  expressed)  discomfort. 

Argument,  blandishments,  and  more  drink 
having  no  effect  in  modifying  the  Colonel's  deter- 


"  THE    REDUCTION    OF     1  1 1 1 ;    COLONEL    PROVED    TO    HE    NO    MERE    CHILD'S    PLAY.'' 


sively  long  in  the  presence  of  the  broad-axe, 
which,  however,  I  was  relieved  to  see  he  was 
once  more  snuggling  under  his  pillow. 

"You've  got  a  head  on  your  shoulders,"  said 
the  Colonel,  as  he  scrambled  into  his  bunk, 
"that'll  get  you  into  trouble — if  it  doesn't  keep 
you  out  of  it." 

Even  writh  the  assistance  of  five  strong  men 
the  reduction  of  the  Colonel  to  a  proper  frame 
of  mind  proved  to  be  no  mere  child's  play. 
Had  it  not  been  for  the  brilliant  originality  of 
one  of  our  number  it  is  probable  that  he  would 
still  have  accomplished  a  part,  at  least,  of  his 
design.  The  genius  in  question,  whilst  the 
Colonel  still  slept,  passed  the  noose  of  a  lariat 
round  his  neck,  and  led  the  free  end  over  the 
partition  between  the  bunks.  The  position  at 
the  end  of  the  rope  was  considered  so  important 


ruination  to  slay  someone,  he  was  finally  baled 
up  with  pack-rope,  in  which' condition,  foaming 
at  the  mouth,  he  left  on  an  early  down-stream 
boat  for  Da  Capo. 

By  this  time  the  whole  house  was  astir  and 
ready  for  breakfast  (beans,  bacon,  and  bread  — 
one  dollar),  thus  allowing  us  to  make  an  early 
start  on  the  two  remaining  stages  of  our  journey, 
the  last  of  which,  some  twenty  miles,  was  ac- 
complished in  a  large  Canadian  bateau,  which  an 
old  Da  Capo  friend  very  kindly  allowed  us  to 
navigate  for  him  from  the  foot  of  the  Slocan 
Lake  to  Eldorado.  It  was  crammed  with 
freight  and  was  heavy  to  row,  but  as  he  only 
charged  us  five  dollars  for  the  privilege  we  did 
not  complain.  Presently  a  breeze  sprang  up, 
when  the  skipper  handed  the  steering-oar  over 
to  me,  whilst   he,  as   he  put  it,    "took  a  watch 


THE    ELDOKADU     Kl  -II 


below,"  which,  to  the  best  of  my  belief,  was 
the  one  thing  nautical  he  knew  how  to  do 
thoroughly  well. 

About  a  mile  from  Eldorado  we  witnessed  an 
incident  which  demonstrated  the  impelling 
power  of  a  mining  rush  ;  the  risks  taken  and 
the  obstacles  overcome  by  a  man  spurred  on 
with  the  determination  to  be  "  in  on  the  ground 
floor." 

We  were  bucketing  along,  with  a  stiff  breeze 
abeam  and  the  waves  rising  higher  each  moment, 
when  Easy  suddenly  cried  out  :— 

"  There's  a  man  in  the  water  over  there  ! " 

Some  two  hundred  yards  from  our  boat  were 
to  be  seen  the  head  and  shoulders  of  a  man 
bobbing  about  in  the  rough  water. 

He  was  somewhat  to  windward  of  our  course, 
and  it  was  with  some  difficulty  that  I  so 
manoeuvred  the  heavy  craft  that  it  ran  up  along- 
side him. 

He  was  stretched  on  a  kind  of  grid  made  of 
dry  cedar  poles,  one  about  eight  feet  long,  the 
other  nearly  six,  joined  together  by  two  shorter 
pieces.  The  four  pieces  were  lashed  together 
at  the  angles  with  bands  of  willow  bark. 

The  man's  body  lay  between  the  side  pieces, 
his  chest  upon  the  fore  cross-tie,  his  hips  upon 
the  hinder  one,  whilst  his  legs  flapped  about  in 
the  water  astern. 

His  hair  was  long  and  matted.  On  the  top 
of  his  head  was  fastened  with  strips  of  bark  a 
small  oiled-paper  package,  containing,  probably, 
matches  and  money.  In  the  small  of  his  back 
a  bundle,  tied  up 
in  a  red  cotton 
handk  er  chief, 
wobbled  about 
under  water  with 
every  movement 
of  his  body. 
His  head,  arms, 
and  shoulders 
were  well  out  of 
water,  the  rest 
of  his  body  sub- 
merged. In  his 
hands  he  carried 
a  strip  of  split 
cedar  about 
three  feet  long, 
with  which  he  was 
i  n  d  u  s  t  r  iously 
paddling. 

The  man  had 
already  come 
some  two  miles 
on  this  extra- 
ordinary craft  in 
the  ice-cold  lake, 

Vol.  xiv.—  70. 


high  with  the  s .v  water  from  the  hills,  and,  .is 

I    thought,   must   be  nigh   dead  with  tl 
alone. 

"  Hurry  up  th<  re!     I  ranging  alongside. 

"Grab  hold  of  the  gunn'l  and  i  ,1,1  \ 

Lend  me  a  hand  there,  Easy  ! " 

The  big  lug  sail  was  flapping  wildly,  and  the 
keelless  boat  was  hard  to  hold  steady. 

"  Hurry  up!"  I  shouted,  angrily,' as  the  man 
made  no  effort  to  get  on  board— never  so  mu<  h 
as  even  glanced  at  us,  in  fact. 

The  bateau  now  began  to  gel  stern-way  on. 

"Pull  him  aboard!"  1  shouted  to  Easy,  who 
reached  out  a  hand  to  comply.     Then  the  man 
spoke.      As  Easy's  hand   was   within  an   in<  I 
his  collar,  the  amphibian   splashed    a    paddleful 
of  water  in  his  face. 

"  Go  away  !  "  he  roared. 

I  placed  so  little  reliance  upon  my  ears  and 
his  good  faith  that,  with  much  difficulty.  I 
forced  the  bateau  on  a  short  leg  to  windward, 
bore  down  again  upon  the  stranger,  and  luffed 
up  alongside. 

"Come  on  !"  I  shouted.  "No  more  of  this 
nonsense  !     Come  aboard,  quick  !  " 

Then,  as  Easy  put  it,  our  friend  got  "  as  mad 
as  a  wet  hen."  He  appeared  to  rise  out  of  the 
water  up  to  his  waist — buoyed  up  by  his 
righteous  indignation,  possibly. 

"  Dodgast    it    all!"    he   cried,    with    incisive 
emphasis.      "Leave   me  alone,   can't   you?      I 
never  see  such  fools  as  you  all-fired   British 
Can't  leave  a  gen'leman  alone  on  his  private  ya't. 


¥ 


HE   AI'I'EAKED   TO    BIS  I 


nil.  '■'• 


554 


THE     WIDK     WORLD     MAGAZINE. 


Take  y'r  blame  packin'-case  of  a  barge  outer  my 
road  an'  go  away  !  " 

As  there  was  no  mistaking  his  meaning  this 
time  we  went,  feeling  like  naughty  school- 
children. 

At  the  risk,  however,  of  again  intruding  upon 
his  privacy,  we  kept  an  eye  upon  him  until  he 
landed  at  Eldorado,  not  very  long  after  we 
ourselves  had  reached  the  place. 

When  we  saw  him  later  on  in  the  afternoon 
(Saturday)  he  had  apparently  lived  down  his 
resentment,  inasmuch  as  he  invited  us  to  partake 
of  a  portion  of  the  liquid  refreshments  he  was 
purchasing  in  large  quantities  on  his  own  behalf. 
He  explained  his  conduct  by  saying  that  he  had 
been  "  born  and  brung  up "  in  a  lumbering 
camp  on  the  Ottawa  River,  across  which,  he  said, 
any  man,  any  time,  will  paddle,  balanced  on  a 
sunk  walking-cane,  to  get  a  drink  on  the  far 
bank.  He  certainly  seemed  none  the  worse  for 
his  trip,  and  was  fully  satisfied  with  Eldorado, 
now  that  he  lived  there,  in  which  frame  of  mind 
he  was  fully  in  accord  with  the  two  hundred 
odd  miners  who  were  camped  there,  not  one  of 
whom  would,  for  one  moment,  have  considered 
the  equity  of  exchanging  their  holdings  for 
Broadway  lots  in  New  York  or  Strand  frontage 
in  London,  yet  there  was  not  much  in  sight  to 
justify  this  confidence  in  the  place. 

As  we  approached  it  from  the  lake  it  was  seen 
that  a  thin  slice  of  the  virgin  forest  had  been 
shaved  from  the  lip  of  a  high  gravel  bluff  upon 
which  stood  the  half-dozen  shacks  and  the  one 
hotel  which  had  already  been  thrown  together. 
Behind  the  screen  of  firs  which  backed  these 
rough  dwellings  rose  the  smoke  from  small  clear- 
ings and  the  sound  of  the  busy  axe.  In  the 
distance,  at  the  head  of  a  deep  valley,  rose  the 
hills  within  whose  fastnesses  lay  buried  the 
treasures  of  silver  and  lead  and  gold,  of  which 
the  accounted  richness  had  caused  many  a  poor 
man  to  consider  himself  wealthy  for  that  he 
was  within  sight  of  them.  Across  the  lake 
rose  jagged  hills,  upon  whose  summit  a  mighty 
glacier  glistened  in  the  sun — a  wild  and  desolate 
scene,  and  one  that  reconciled  us  to  the  un- 
finished condition  of  the  log-hut  which  was  to 
have  been  ready  for  our  occupation.  The  man 
to  whom  we  had  entrusted  its  erection  had  gone 
into  the  hills,  leaving  his  job  unfinished.  In 
the  meantime  a  third  of  our  home  was  open  to 
the  sky,  nor  had  the  spaces  between  the  logs 
which  formed  the  walls  been  "  chinked  "  (filled 
up  with  a  mixture  of  moss  and  clay),  so  that  our 
sitting-room-bedroom-parlour-kitchen  was  but  a 
draughty  place,  and  the  chill  of  the  melting 
snow  had  not  yet  been  thawed  out  of  the  spring 
breezes. 

Though  it  was  undoubtedly  colder  inside  the 


house  than  out,  still  we  had  a  fireplace,  two 
bunks  of  split  cedar  boards,  and  a  floor  of  the 
same  material.  The  bare  possibilities  of  the 
place  enchanted  us,  and  we  felt  at  home. 

That  night,  though  there  was  not  a  perceptible 
breath  of  air  in  the  open,  the  wind  poured  up 
through  the  cracks  in  our  floor,  sideways 
through  the  spaces  between  the  logs,  and  down- 
wards through  the  open  part  of  the  roof.  We 
were  short  of  blankets,  and,  though  we  slept  in 
all  our  clothes,  were  bitterly  cold. 

Neither  my  partner  nor  myself,  however,  was 
at  that  moment  in  search  of  comfort.  It  was 
wealth  we  were  after,  and  with  this  object  held 
sternly  before  him  my  friend  Easy  started  off, 
immediately  after  breakfast,  for  the  woods,  con- 
fident— though  he  did  not  know  a  piece  of  ore 
from  a  brickbat — of  finding  the  mine  of  the 
season  before  returning  in  the  evening. 

Personally  I  determined  to  spend  a  quiet 
Sunday  in  chatting  with  those  prospectors  who 
had  already  made  more  or  less  short  excursions 
into  the  hills,  in  order  to  find  out  the  general 
aspect  of  the  land. 

Almost  the  first  person  I  met  was  a  young 
missionary  friend  from  Da  Capo,  who  was  there 
to  hold  a  service  that  evening,  he  told  me. 
Would  I  go  ?     Certainly  I  would,  and  did. 

It  had  been  my  intention  to  take  Easy  with 
me,  but  as  he  had  not  returned  when  the  time 
for  the  service  drew  near  I  went  alone,  to  find 
that  the  largest  room  in  the  place — a  bar,  it  is 
unnecessary  to  say — had  been  cleared  out  for 
the  occasion,  and  was  filled  with  a  congregation 
which,  however  rough,  was  sufficiently  orderly 
and  quite  prepared  to  be  interested.  The 
hymns,  especially,  were  sung  with  immense 
gusto,  to  the  accompaniment  of  a  mouth-organ, 
which  was  the  nearest  approach  to  the  more 
conventional  instrument  we  could  command. 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  service  one  of  the 
congregation  was  so  worked  up  that,  as  the 
last  words  of  the  last  hymn  were  sung,  he  leapt 
to  his  feet,  whipped  his  hat  from  his  pocket, 
marched  up  to  the  front  row,  and,  after  placing 
in  the  novel  collection-bag  a  five-dollar  gold 
piece,  presented  it  for  further  offerings. 

The  deep  personal  interest  which  this  self- 
appointed  sidesman  took  in  the  collection,  and 
in  those  who  contributed,  was  of  so  pointed  a 
nature  as  to  result  in  a  record  hatful. 

"  Here !  What's  that  f'r  ? "  he  asked,  as 
Wildcat  Bill  placed  a  dollar  in  the  hat.  "  Didn't 
you  sell  the  eighteenth  undivided  thirteenth 
interest  in  that  claim  o'  yourn  yesterday  ? 
Whatcher  done  with  it  all  ?  You  never  bought 
me  no  drink  out  of  it  !  You  reach  down  inter 
that  back  pocket  o'  yourn  an'  dig  up  so  i  e  o' 
the   specie.-'     Or,    perhaps  :   "  Blown    in    all    o' 


THE     EL  DORADO     RUSH 


that  eighty  dollar  you  euchred  out  o' me  to 
Hill  ?     Fish  up  a  tenner  an'  no  errer  ! 

"  Here,  Algy  !"  he  cried,  as  the  one  "  remit 
tance  man  "  in   the   crowd  tried  to  get  off  with 
half  a   dollar,    "  chicken-feed    don't    go   here  ! 
Yer  ma  sent  a  tidy  wad  last 
week.       It    ain't    all    gone 
yet  !  "      His    opportunities, 
however,   of   doing   himself 
justice  were  limited  to  the 
front    row,    for    the    crowd 
soon   realized   that   nothing 
less    than  a    five-dollar   bill 
would  "  go,"  and  paid  up. 

No  sooner  had  the  grati- 
fied clergyman  received  the 
brimming  hat  than  the  door 
was  suddenly  flung  open, 
and  Easy  Come,  pale, 
breathless,  and  exhausted, 
staggered  into  the  room. 

"Gimme  a  drink!''  he 
cried,  wildly. 

In  a  moment  the  place 
had  resumed  its  normal 
aspect.  The  bar  counter 
became  lined  with  bottles, 
glasses,  and  men.  More 
than  one  drink,  however, 
was  required  before  Easy 
was  in  a  condition  to  tell 
his  story. 

Wandering  along,  some 
four  miles  from  camp,  he 
had  strayed  on  to  the  sum- 
mit of  a  steep  hog-back,  or 
ridge.  Bursting  through  a 
fringe  of  thick  brush,  his 
hat  had  been  swept  off. 
Stooping  to  recover  it,  his 
feet  slipped  from  under  him, 
and  he  shot  down  the 
steep,  slippery  incline,  until 
he  had  been  brought  up  by 
an  isolated  patch  of  suska- 
toons,  on  the  far  side  of 
which,  when  he  had  picked 
himself  up,  he  discovered  a 
huge  grizzly  bear,  lunching 
on  berries. 

He  could  not  tell  us 
which  was  the  more  sur- 
prised of  the  two  —himself 
or  the  bear  —  but  he 
inferred  that  he  must  have  been,  for  the  bear 
was  the  first  to  recover  its  self-possession  and  its 
feet.  Standing  on  its  hind  legs,  it  made  a  pass 
at  him  with  a  fore-paw,  which  Easy  avoided  as 
nimbly  as  might  he.      The  bear  followed  up  its 


QUICKLY    Till-.    II    U      \VA  111  !-'    HIM 


left  l<-;ul  with  a  right  arm  swing,  which  fell  sh< 
Like  .1   flash   I  )asj  Come  turned,  and  wa 
half  way  up  tin-  n<  a  ippened  to 

be  .1  slender  pine. 

Quickly  tin-  bear  was  after  him.      i  th 

(1. ■Spain: 

good  his  escape  higher  up, 
leaving  tin  !)■ 

with   tin-   heir  .,  phy. 

lie  had  1  i i »  doubts,  1. 
ever,  ol  bi  ing  able  t<>  I. 
on  for  1' 

"  There-  wasn't  a  branch 
on  the  blessed  thing  thii 
than  a  pencil,"  he 
plained.  "  For  four  hours 
did  that  beast  hold  me  up 
there.  Four  hours  !  And 
nothing  to  sit  on  wider  than 
the  edge  of  a  razor." 

"Why   didn't   you    shoot 
him?''  asked  someone  who 
had    noticed     Easy's 
assortment  of  arms. 

•  >  hoot  him  !"  cried 
Easy,  with  line  scorn.  "  1 
was  hangin'  on  with  my 
teeth,  all  of  my  lingers,  and 
ten  toes.  What'd  1  shoot 
him  with  ?  If  I  moved  an 
eyelid  I  thought  the  brute 
would  have  dug  up  the 
ling  to  get  at  me.  so  I  let 
him  alone.  What  uould 
you  have  shot  him  with  ? 
Your  tongue?  but  I've 
had  enough  of  it  ! 
more  prospecting  for  me. 
thanks  !  I'm  off  back  to 
Da  ( 'apo  to  -  morrow  as 
soon  as  it's  light.  Stuffed 
bears  are  good  enough  l"i 
me,  thank  you  out  of  the 
Zoo,  at  any  rati 

Nor  could  argument,  ex 
population,  or  ridicule 
his  determination  :   nor  did 
I   altogether   di  with 

him    when,    in    the   d 
night,    alone    in     our    well 
ventilated  sha<  k.  he  told  me 
the  sequel  to  hi  ture. 

Th  had  at  lei  _ 

with     1 1  '■  1  >' 

i  usual  m  such  creatures,  abandoned  its 


than 


post,  and  after  an   interval,  to  make  sure  ol   its 
permanent  disappearam    .  I  asy  had 

from  his  perch.      On  climbing  up  the  hill  ag 
to  recover  his  hat.   he  noticed  that  the  ground 


556 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


where  the  nails  in  the  heels  of  his  boots  had 
slipped  was  scored  with  just  such  marks  as  one 
sees  on  a  lead  roof  which  has  been  lately  trodden 
on.  Scraping  away  the  thick  moss  with  his 
hands,  he  found  that  a  belt,  three  feet  wide,  of 
similar  material  could  be  traced  all  down  the 


crawling  all  over  the  place  to-morrow.  I've  put 
in  our  stakes,  and  I'm  off,  bright  and  early,  for 
Da  Capo,  to  record  the  thing." 

He  went,  but,  alas  !  we  never  made  anything 
out  of  it.  In  his  light-hearted  way  he  neglected 
some    important   technicality ;  our  title  to   the 


"glistening,  shining,  sparkling,  there  it  lay. 


hill  from  whose  summit  he  had  slipped,  tearing 
up  the  moss  at  intervals  as  he  fell. 

With  a  large  stone  he  had  broken  off  a  pro- 
truding lump  of  the  mass  and  showed  it  to  me, 
carefully  shrouded  in  the  secret  folds  of  a 
blanket,  by  the  glimmering  firelight. 

Glistening,  shining,  sparkling,  there  it  lay — a 
fortune  found  in  a  minute,  a  lump  of  galena  as 
big  as  your  fist,  a  mixture  of  silver  and  lead  and 
perhaps  gold. 

Easy  had  tumbled  on  to  a  big  mine  ! 

"  If  I'd  said  a  word  of  this,"  whispered  Easy, 
"every  man   in  the  country   would   have  been 


claim  lapsed,  and,  on  being  re-located  and 
developed  by  a  young  American,  it  became  one 
of  the  famous  mines  of  the  country. 

I  didn't  look  after  the  matter  myself  because, 
on  the  afternoon  of  the  day  Easy  left  Eldorado, 
Ian  MacTavish  appeared  with  a  proposal  to  buy 
the  Da  Capo  Miner*  to  which  I  assented, 
thinking  that  a  connection  with  a  mining  journal 
might  add  to  my  opportunities  of  disposing  of 
my  newly-acquired  mining  interests. 

Thus,  as  is  not  unusual  in  the  West,  I 
dropped  a  fortune  to  pick  up  a  living. 

*  See  our  issue  for  October,  1903. — Ed. 


UNMASKED  ! 


By  David  Divan  i. 

The  well-known  conjurer  of   Egyptian  Hall    fame   here    tells    a   remarkable    story  of  how   he 
enabled,    after   exercising    considerable    detective    ingenuity,    to    expose    a    notorious    card-sharper 
whose    amazing    "  luck "     had    caused    much    discussion    in    a    certain     famous    club.     The    final 
downfall  of  the  trickster  was  brought  about  in  a  very  dramatic  fashion. 


tffH? 


OME  years  ago  I  used  frequently  to 
attend  "at  homes,"  in  addition  to 
giving  lessons  in  legerdemain  to 
ladies  and  gentlemen  who  amused 
themselves,  as  amateurs,  in  giving 
exhibitions  of  their  skill  at  evening  parties, 
and   so   forth.       Upon    one   occasion  —  it  was 

an    "  at  home "  at   Lady  A 's  town   house 

— I  had  given  a  display  of  card  manipulation, 
in  addition  to  other  sleight-of-hand  tricks. 
x\fter  my  performance  I  was  approached  by  one 
of  the  gentlemen  guests. 

"Allow  me  to  congratulate  you,  Mr.  Devant," 
he  said;  "your  entertainment  has  given  me 
much  pleasure.  Your  card  manipulation  especi- 
ally interested  me.  It 
occurs  to  me  that  with 
your  obvious  know- 
ledge of  cards  and  card 
deceptions  you  might 
assist  mein  a  perplexing 
affair  which  has  been 
exercising  my  mind  for 
some  time.  If  you  will 
be  so  good  as  to  give 
mea  few  minutes  of  your 
time  I  will  describe  the 
nature  of  this  dilemma 
to  you.  Allow  me  to 
present  my  card." 

Having  signified  my 
willingness  to  accord 
the  interview  requested, 
Sir  George  L re- 
marked that  the  room 
we  were  then  in  was 
scarcely  a  fitting  place 
for  the  exchange  of  con- 
fidences. He  suggested 
that  we  should  seek  a 
more  private  part  of  the 
building.  He  led  the 
way  out,  through  a  short 
passage,  into  a  conser- 
vatory. There  were  many  chairs  about,  and, 
selecting  a  spot  which  presented  safe  asylum 
from  intrusion,  we  sat  down. 

"I    hope   you    are    not   alarmed,"   said    Sir 
George,  with  a  smile,  "at   the  portentous  tone 


JIU.    DAVID    DEVANT,    OF     EGYPTIAN     HALL     FAME,    \V  1 1 
HE   EXPOSED   A    NOTORIOUS   CARD-SHAD 

From    <i     Photo,    by    Histed,    Baker    Street. 


in  which  I  am  approaching  this  business,  but 

there  are  certain  matters  connected  with  it  i 
cerning  which  it  is  advisable,  pending 
understanding,  to  maintain  compaiatr. 
Let  me  come  to  the  point.      While  wat<  hing 
your  card  manipulation   it  struck  me  that 
might  probably  be  acquainted  with  some  ol  the 
tricks  which  are  resorted  to  by  card-sharp 
and  could  set  at  rest  some  suspicions  of  mine 
concerning  a  certain  gentleman  whose   luck  at 
cards  is  prodigious.     I  am  strongly  of  opinion 
that    he  is   nothing   more  or  less  than    a    pro 
fessional  sharper.    This  man  1  first  encountered 
at  the  B—    -  Club,  of  which  I  am  a  member. 
He  has  been  a  frequent  visitor  there  as  a  g 

of  a  young  friend  of 
mine,  also  a  merub<  r, 
who  has  conceived  a 
partiality  for  the  skil 
t'ul  card  -  player,  and 
is  paying  a  rather 
high  price  for  the 
quaintai: 

"It    is    not    ne< 
sary  that  I  should  si 
more  than   that   my 
young  friend  is  a  man 
of  ample  means,  obsti 
nate  to  the  d< 
pugnacity,    and   not   a 
little  self-opinionated. 
Although    I  have  tried 
again  and  again  t<  1 1 
vince  him   that  the 
'luck  '  of  his  acquaint- 
ance seems 
sistent  to  be  legitin 
he  steadfastly  n  I 
listen  to  me,  d 
that  he  is  n  inti- 

midated by  a  littli 
fortune.  Ac 
on   ] 

on    paying.     1   I 
watched  the  play  closely,  but  am  quit 
detect  any  trick  or  d  i  the  | 

suspected  man.    1  cannot,  th< 
anything  tangible  to  his  detrin  »im 

with  any  offen<  e.     W  hal  ver  his  trick  raaj 


558 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


must  be  a  very  clever  one,  and  of  a  somewhat 
novel  description.  I  have  carefully  examined 
the  cards,  some  methods  of  marking  which  I 
have  had  described  to  me,  but  have  failed  to 
trace  the  slightest  signs  of  their  having  been 
tampered  with.  The  ordinary  club  cards  are 
used,  which  renders  it  all  the  more  inexplicable 
how  the  fellow  contrives  to  work  trickery  with 
them.  It  struck  me  that  perhaps  it  might  be  a 
question  of  manipulation,  but  I  could  not  dis- 
cover anything  beyond  the  ordinary  handling. 


[    WANT   TO    UNMASK    THE    FELLOW,    EXl'OSE    HIM    THERE   AND    THEN. 


It  was  while  in  this  dilemma  that  the  idea 
occurred  to  me  that  you,  Mr.  Devant,  might  be 
able  to  clear  up  the  mystery.  What  I  would 
ask  you  to  kindly  do  for  me  is  to  come  to  the 
club  as  my  guest,  so  that  you  can  have  an 
opportunity  of  watching  the  play.  Possibly  you 
may  discover  something  where  I  and  others 
have  failed.    May  I  count  upon  your  assistance?  " 

"  Certainly,"  I  replied,  "  I  shall  be  very 
pleased  to  render  you  what  service  I  can  in  the 
matter." 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  Sir  George  had  piqued 
my  curiosity,  for,  knowing  a  good  deal  about 
card  trickery,  I  was  eager  to  discover  what 
cunning  method  of  swindling  —  if  any  —  the 
suspected  man  was  resorting  to. 

"  Do  you  know  anything  about  the  man  ?  " 
I  asked. 

"  Very  little,"  replied  Sir  George,  "  except  that 
he  is  known  as  Mr.  De  Lacy,  is  apparently  of 
French  extraction,  speaking  with  a  slight  accent, 
and  has  a  flat  up  West,  where  he  also  does  a 
deal  of  card-playing,  attended  with  his  usual 
'  luck.'  Beyond  this  there  is  much  that  is 
mysterious  about  him.  My  friend  knows 
nothing  of  him — -he  is  merely  one  of  those 
casual  acquaintances  it  is  so  easy  to  make  in 
this  cosmopolitan  city  of  ours." 


"  What  games  does  he  favour  ?  " 

"  He  plays  most  of  the  gambling  games,  but 

if  he  has  a  favourite  I  should  think  it  was  solo." 

"And   in   the   event  of  my   discovering   any 

trickery,    should    you   make    a    police     matter 

of  it?" 

"  No  ;  I  don't  desire  to  do  that.  I  want  to 
unmask  the  fellow,  expose  him  there  and  then, 
convince  my  obstinate  friend,  and  have  the 
sharper  kicked  out  of  the  club.  I  want  him 
served  in  such  a  manner  that  he  may  be 
effectually  prevented  from 
carrying  on  his  game  in  the 
haunts  he  has  been  latterly 
favouring.  If  you  can  bring 
this  about,  Mr.  Devant,  you 
will  have  performed  an  invalu- 
able service." 

I  entered  into  the  affair  with 
zest.  An  appointment  was 
fixed  up  for  a  certain  evening, 
upon  which  I  found  myself  in 

the  card-room  of  the    B 

Club,  bent  upon  creating  a 
"  scene."  There  was  a  goodly 
assembly  of  members  and 
friends,  and  the  room  pie- 
sented  an  animated  appear- 
ance, with  its  groups  of  fault- 
lessly-attired clubmen  gathered 
round  the  little  green-topped 
tables.  I  was  invited  by  Sir  George  to  join  in 
a  friendly  game,  having  been  already  introduced 
to  his  friend,  Mr.  V  ,  a  tall,  dark,  clean- 
shaven gentleman.  By  design  our  table  was 
placed    close   to   that  at  which   the  suspected 

man,  with  Mr.  V and  others,  was  seated. 

I  was  thus  enabled  to  watch  the  movements  of 
Mr.  De  Lacy  without  exciting  suspicion.  I 
judged  De  Lacy  to  be  a  man  turned  forty,  with 
a  beard  which  was  beginning  to  turn  grey, 
rather  sparse  fair  hair,  a  somewhat  pallid  face, 
and  broad  shoulders.  He  did  not  altogether 
lack  a  certain  air  of  refinement. 

The  play  proceeded.  I  had  previously  taken 
the  opportunity  of  examining  some  of  the  club 
cards,  but  had  found  nothing  in  any  way. sus- 
picious about  them.  Our  neighbours  were 
playing    solo,    and    the    luck    appeared    to    be 

fluctuating   a  good    deal,    Mr.    V winning 

occasionally.  But  this  did  not  last  long,  and 
presently  Mr.  De  Lacy  began  to  gather  in  a  rich 
harvest.  I  watched  closely,  but  could  detect 
nothing  to  the  discredit  of  the  suspected  one, 
if  you  except  a  faculty  for  winning.  Now  and 
again    a   half-muttered    imprecation    from    Mr. 

V told    that    De    Lacy    had    once    more 

scooped  the  pool. 

The  evening  was  unproductive   of   anything 


UNMASKED! 


559 


WAS   ENABLED   TO    WATCH    THE   MOVEMENTS    OF    MR.    DE    I.ACV   WITHOUT 
EXCITING    SUSPICION. 


practical  in  the  way  of  discovering  trickery.  Yet 
there  was  something  indefinable  about  this  man 
De  Lacy  which  suggested  fraud  to  me,  and  which 
made  me  more  than  ever  determined  to  solve 
the  mystery  of  his  wonderful  "  luck."  I  there- 
fore arranged  to  attend  another  night,  under 
similar  circumstances,  but  even  then  nothing  of 
moment  occurred.  I  obtained,  however,  a  kind 
of  vague  idea,  the  accuracy  of  which  I  was 
desirous  of  putting  to  the  test.  At  the  close  of 
play  I  spoke  to  Sir  George. 

"  I  notice  that  Mr.  De  Lacy  invariably  wears 
smoked  glasses  at  the  table,"  I  said.  "  Has  lie 
weak  sight  ?  " 

"  I  believe  so.  He  says  that  the  glare  of  the 
gas  troubles  his  eyes." 

"  I  have  an  idea  that  those  glasses  play  some 
sort  of  part  in  the  trickery,"  I  said,  thoughtfully, 
"  I  don't  know  how,  but,  coupled  with  a  certain 
movement  of  one  of  his  hands,  they  are 
suggestive.  I  propose  to  make  a  test,  and  I 
should  like  to  make  the  following  arrangement. 
I  will  take  my  place  at  your  table  as  usual 
another  night.  After  having  played  for  a  while 
I  shall  ask  to  be  allowed  to  give  up  on  the  score 
of  being  tired.  You  will  agree,  and  take  no 
further  particular  notice  of  me.  If  I  make  a 
discovery  shall  I  expose  the  man  openly  ?  " 

"Certainly!"  replied  Sir  George,  emphati- 
cally. 

The  appointed  night  arrived— the  room  was 
full,  as  usual.     As  before,  our  table  was  situated 


close  to  that  at  which  sat  De  Lacy  and  others. 
The  man  wore  his  customary  look  of  imperturb- 
able good  humour — and  his  smoked  [ 
His  party  were  playing  solo,  with  the  usual  vary- 
ing luck,  preponderating  in  the  long  run  with 
De  Lacy.  The  cards  were  shuffled  and  dealt. 
Two    "  passed,"    Mr.    V-  "  propped."    but 

De  Lacy  called  "abundance." 

"Again!"  ejaculated  Mr.  V  .  in  amaze- 
ment. 

De  Lacy  smiled  indulgently.  He  had  a 
splendid  hand,  and  got  home  easily. 

At  this  juncture  I  gave  up  as  arranged,  and 
rising  carelessly  from  my  seat  strolled  a  few- 
yards,  with  the  apparent  desire  to  "stretch  my 
legs"     I  worked  round  I >y  dej  until    1   had 

got  directly  behind  De  Lacy,  and  quickly  donned 
a   pair   of  smoked   gl  with   which  I    had 

come  prepared.     He  had   just  scored   another 
"abundance,''  when,  gazing  over  his  should) 
the  cards   through   my    smoked    glasses,    I 
covered  the  secret  of  his  trickery. 

"There    is   no    playing  against    such    luck: 
protested  Mr.  V ,  half  angrily. 

•'  There  is  no  playing  against 
I  exclaimed,    snatching   some   cards    from 
table.      Then,  ere  De  1  a<  v  could  make  a 
ment,   I   thrust   several   fii 
waistcoat    pockets.     With    an   ex<  lamal 

•r  he  rose  to  his   feet,   but 
when    he    perceived    that    I    i 
smoked  glas 


56o 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


"  Gentlemen,"  I  exclaimed,  "  it  is  my  painful 
duty  to  inform  you  that  you  have  in  -your  midst 
a  professional  card-sharper  !  " 

The  whole  room  was  immediately  in  an 
uproar.  All  the  men  left  their  tables  and 
crowded  round  us.  De  Lacy  at  first  betrayed  a 
trembling  lip,  but  presently,  with  an  effort,  he 
gained  control  of  himself,  and  thereafter  main- 
tained an  air  of  dogged  defiance. 

"  This  man,"  I  continued,  "  has  been  mark- 
ing the  cards  with  luminous  paint,  a  small 
quantity  of  which  he  keeps  in  his  waistcoat 
pocket,  and  conveys  to  the  cards  with  his 
finger-nails.     The  paint,  quite  invisible  in  this 


aid  of  the  glasses  the  tiny  paint-marks  on  the 
cards  were  clearly  detected,  as  well  as  the  smear 
on  my  fingers.  The  fraud  was  fully  exposed. 
With  cries  of  indignation  the  clubmen  advanced 
upon  the  trickster,  and  things  began  to  look 
ugly  for  the  ingenious  De  Lacy.  He  was  very 
roughly  handled,  denuded  of  his  ill-gotten 
gains,  and  then  literally  kicked  out  of  the 
club. 

Mr.  V ,  convinced  at  last  that  he  had  been 

fleeced  by  an  unscrupulous  rogue,  tendered  an 
apology  to  his  fellow-members  for  introducing 
under  a  misapprehension  such  a  disreputable 
individual  into   the  club — an  apology  that  was, 


t??Yto))o\^ 


"the  fraud  was  fully  exposed." 


brilliantly-lighted  room,  he  is  able  to  see  by 
means  of  his  smoked  glasses  !  Will  some  of 
you  kindly  examine  these  cards  through  the 
glasses  I  brought  with  me  for  the  purpose  of 
unmasking  this  man  ?  Look  at  my  fingers,  too, 
which  I  just  *;vjw  thrust  into  his  waistcoat 
pocket." 

Eagerly  the  clubmen  crowded  round  me,  and 
an  examination  was  made  all  round.     By  the 


of  course,  at  once  accepted.     He  also  thanked 
Sir  George  and  myself. 

I  have  not  since  heard  or  seen  anything  of 
Mr.  De  Lacy,  under  that  or  any  other  name. 
He  doubtless  considered  it  expedient  to  seek 
fresh  woods  and  pastures  new  after  his  dis- 
concerting experiences.  But  his  trick  was 
a  smart  one — perhaps  the  smartest  I  have 
ever  encountered. 


A    School    of   Fishing. 

o 

V>\    A.    l'l  n  \n;\  Km  >u  i 

Finding    "bad    times"    prevalent    in    the    fishing    industry,    certain    far-seeing    people    in    Belgium 
instituted    investigations    and    discovered   that    the    incompetence  of  the  fisherfolk   themselves 
the   prime  cause  of    the   depression.     Forthwith    it   was    decided    to  educate    the  fisherman  for  his 
calling    like   any  other   craftsman.      The   outcome  of   this    decision  is  the    interesting    school    here 
described.     With   photographs   specially  taken  by  the  author. 


who  go  down 


T  always  has  been,  and  probably 
always  will  be,  a  characteristic  pecu- 
liarity of  the  fisherman — a  peculiarity 
he  shares  with  the  farmer — to  com- 
plain of  bad  times,  whether  there 
be  cause  for  such  pessimistic  views  or  not. 
There  is  no  doubt,  however,  that  in  many 
places  the  diminution  in  the  supply  of  that 
valuable  article  of  food  called  fish  and  the 
rapidly  increasing  competition  have  caused 
lamentable  distress  among  those 
to  the  sea  in  fishing-boats. 

One  of  the  countries  which  have  suffered  most 
in  this  respect  is  Belgium,  which,  thanks  to  its 
favoured  position,  has  for  generations  supplied 
all  parts  of  Continental  Europe  with  vast 
quantities  of  fish. 

The  modern  Belgians,  however,  are  practical 
people,  whose  businesslike  methods  have  re- 
peatedly attracted  the  attention  of  the  world, 
and  they  were  not  long  in  detecting  the  cause 
of  the  decline  in  their  once  flourishing  fishing 
trade.  They  were  led  to  believe  that  the  failure 
was  almost  entirely  due  to  the  incapacity  of  their 
fishermen,  and  rightly  concluded  that  the  only 
remedy  was  to  educate  these  folk  in  such  a 
manner  that  their  supremacy  would  drive  away 
the  dangerous  competition.  Were  there  not 
schools  of  music,  of  cookery,  of  gardening,  and 


farming     in  fact,  of  everything  worth  learn 

Why  not  a  school  of  fishery?     Was  th 

truth  in  the  antiquated  idea  that  a  fisherman 

was  born,  not  made  ?    Surely  the  sons  of  tin- 
could  be  trained  for  their  trade,  or  could  the  art 
of    luring    the    slippery  eel    and   the    cunn 
whiting  be  merel)  a  talent,  a  chance  gift  ol 
gods?     The  Belgians  were  not  of  this  opinion. 
Their  common  sense  told  them  that  fishing,  like 
other    trades,     could     and     should     be     tail 
systematically  in  all  its  details,  both  in   thi 
and  in  practice,  and  that  only  a  thorough  train 
ing  could  lead  to  success  and  lasting  prosperity 
This     intelligent    way    of     li  at     thi 

originated    the    excellent    idea    of    establisl 
schools  of  fishery,  which  for  many  years     sini  e 
1890,  in  fact — have  been  the  means  ol  edl*  ating 
Belgium's    fisherfolk    to    such    a    degree   that 
thousands    of   poverty-stricken    families,    u' 
livelihood  depended  entirely  on  the  sui 
the  fishing,   have  been  lifted   from   their    fallen 
state    and    saved    from    utter    ruin    and    even 
starvation. 

These  schools,    which    have    proved   such   a 
success,     were     first     established     at      <  Mend, 
Blankenberghe,    and    Nieuport,    and    so    satis 
factory  were  the  results  that   several   n< 
are  now  being  added  in  other  fishing  <  entn  s 
the  coast  of  Belgium,    Needless  to  say,  the  1 


1 

From  n] 
Vol.  xiv.— 71 


56= 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE 


A    LESSON    IN    ROPE-Sl'LICING    AND    KNOTS 

From  a\ 


-THFRF.    ARE    NO    FEWER   THAN    TWO    HUNDRED   VARIETIES    OF    THE    LATTER 

TO    I'.E   MASTERED.  \Photo. 


of  keeping  up  these  establishments  was  very 
heavy,  so  much  so,  in  fact,  that  for  some  time  it 
was  feared  that  the  financial  difficulties  would 
prove  a  very  serious  stumbling-block.  In  the 
beginning  the  maintenance  of  the  schools 
depended  entirely  on  the  support  of  private 
persons,  but,  happily,  after  some  years  the  excel- 
lent influence  of  the  institutions  convinced  the 
Government  of  their  advantages,  with  the  result 
that  they  are  now  subsidized,  although  not  to 
the  extent  they 
deserve. 

The  O  s  t  e  n  d 
school  is  in  every 
respect  the  most 
important  and 
up-to-date  of  the 
three  establish- 
ments in  exist- 
ence, thanks  to 
the  efforts  of  its 
director,  the 
Abbe  Pype,  who, 
if  I  am  not  mis- 
taken, was  the 
originator  of  the 
whole  admirable 
scheme,  and  who, 
with  untiring 
energy  and  dis- 
regarding a  1  1 
financial  risks, 
has  worked  at 
his  arduous  task 


ever  since  the  foundation  of  the  institution.  The 
other  schools  are  also  under  the  management  of 
priests,  who  have  experienced  assistants  at  their 
disposal  to  teach  the  trade  in  all  its  branches. 

Every  opportunity  is  given  to  boys  who  have 
chosen  fishing  as  their  calling  to  obtain  all  the 
knowledge  enabling  them  to  face  the  hard- 
ships and  dangers  of  their  vocation.  Splendid 
museums,  containing  all  the  rarest  species  of 
fish,  birds,  and   shells,  instruments  and  tools  of 


msmm ■■!— ■ 

OBSERVATIONS    WITH    THE    SEXTA." 


[Phot  . 


A    school    01      FISHING 


From  tt] 


LEARNING  THE   RULE  OF  THE  ROAD 


every  description,  sea  charts  and  maps,  model 
boats  representing  every  known  type  of  vessel, 
patterns  of  modern  machinery,  nets,  sails — in 
fact,  all  objects  that  the  fisherman  is  likely  to 
set  eyes  on  in  his  profession,  are  placed  at  the 
disposal  of  the  students  for  the  purpose  of 
examining,  studying,  and  experimenting  with. 
There  is  ample  material  to  keep  them  busy 
during  the  three  years  required  to 
prepare  them  for  their  calling,  and 
the  intelligent  and  industrious 
pupil  who  makes  the  best  of  his 
time  need  not  fear  that  he  will 
not  be  capable  of  competing  with 
his  rivals  and  of  reaching  the  top 
of  the  ladder  in  his  trade.  When, 
finally,  the  long -cherished  hope 
of  becoming  the  owner  and  skip- 
per of  a  fishing  craft  is  realized, 
the  fortunate  son  of  the  sea  will 
look  back  with  a  feeling  of  grati- 
tude to  the  time  when  he  vainly 
endeavoured  to  solve  some 
puzzling  problem  on  the  black- 
board, or  cramped  his  clumsy 
fingers  in  the  attempt  to  complete 
some  difficult  chart,  almost  de- 
spairing of  ever  becoming  any- 
thing more  than  a  mere  "mousse" 
or  "  boy." 

But,  to  return  to  these  days  of 
theory  on  terra  firma,  let  us  peep 
into  some  of  the  school-rooms, 
where  the  Abbe  and  his  col- 
busy    revealing    the 


de   to  the   brav 

VOU1  l 

tin-     kind 
work,   but    none   tl 
enthusiasts  in  theii 

to  improve   th 
minds.      II 

•lit    on 
tin-  ground,  with  .1  • 
or  more  lad  i  on    it 

busily     i  !     with 

pairs,  whilst  .moil,,  i   . 

rs  is  bi  nefiting 
by  a  lesson  in  ropi  spli 
and    knots,   by   no  means 
an   easy  task   considering 
that    there   are   no   f< 
than  two  hundred  varieties 
of  the  latter  to  be  mastered. 
But  oth.r  equally  difficult 
ons    await    the  young 
student.     An  a<  curate 
knowledge  of  the  sextant, 
by  means  of  which   latitude  and  longitui 
be  ascertained,  must   be   acquired.     A  i  areful 
study  of  "  the  rules  of  the  road  "  at  sea  and  of  the 
exact  positions  of  the  numerous  lightships  in  the 
North  Sea  is  of  the  utmost  importance  to  "  th 
who  go  down  to  the  sea  in  ships,"  and  forms 
one  of  the  principal  subjects  in  their  education. 
The  method    of  teaching    this    lesson    is 


|  Photo. 


leagues    are 


Mil      I-OSITI 


564 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


I'.Y  MEANS  OF  A  HUGE  CHART,  SHOWING  SANDBANKS  AND  ROCKS 

From  a]  of  the  sea  are  explained. 

simple  as  it  is  practical.  All  that  is  required 
are  some  reliable  sea  charts,  a  few  sets  of  tiny 
model  vessels,  and  printed  directions,  with  the 
assistance  of  which  the  boys  can  learn  more  in 
one  day  than  a  lengthy  sea  voyage  could  teach 
them.      A  huge 

chart  representing      ps~-  «-  v'V:     "•••"' 

the  bottom  of  the 
sea,  with  all  its 
mountains  and 
valleys,  its  numer- 
ous rocks  and 
sandbanks,  most 
cleverly  construc- 
ted of  cement, 
stones,  shells,  and 
seaweed,  explains 
the  mysteries  of 
the  ocean's  depths 
and  its  hidden 
dangers.  The 
wonders  of  steam- 
engines  and 
motor -power  and 
all  the  modern 
improvements  re- 
sulting from  the 
application  there- 
of, in  so  far  as 
they  are  likely  to 
be  of  use  to  the 
twentieth  -  century 


f i  s  h  e  r  m  a  n ,  are 
practically 
demonstrated, 
and — need  it  be 
said? — all  the 
manoeuvres  exe- 
cuted on  board 
a  fishing  smack 
are  regular  1  y 
practised  on  dry 
land.  For  this 
purpose  a  full- 
size  model  boat 
has  been  erected 
in  the  grounds 
belonging  to  the 
school.  But  the 
future  fisherman 
has  yet  more  to 
learn — the  mak- 
ing of  nets  and 
the  handling  of 
the  same  at  sea, 
the  cutting, 
sewing,  and  tan- 
ning of  the  sails, 
the  natural  his- 
tory of  the  fish,  the  difficult  art  of  baiting, 
the  drying,  smoking,  and  preserving  of  fish, 
the  use  of  the  lead,  compass,  and  log,  hoist- 
ing colours,  and  the  manifold  secrets  which 
are  the  property  of  every  able  seaman. 


IN    RELIEF,    THE    HIDDEN    DANGERS 

[Photo. 


\ 


INSTRUCTION    IN    HANDLING    MARINE    ENGINES    FORMS    PARI     OF     I  HE    YOUNG 

From  a  Photo. 


DUCA  I  ION . 


A    SCHOOL    01      I-ISHING. 


5'>5 


When  all  this  useful  knowledge  has  been 
acquired  within  the  lour  walls  of  the  school,  the 
pupils  are  given  an  opportunity  of  distinguishing 
themselves  at  sea  and  of  showing  whether  they 
are  "  ripe "  for  their  profession.  For  this 
purpose  a  training-ship  has  been  fitted  up, 
which  for  several  weeks  takes  the  place  of  the 
schoolroom  and  the  stationary  model  boat. 
Captained  by  the  indefatigable  Abbe,  the 
student-crew  carries  out  all  its  manoeuvres 
and  tasks  in  reality,  and  thus  the  finishing 
touch  is  administered  to  their  education. 
When  the  floating  school  returns  to  the  port 
its  occupants  are  supposed  to  be  thoroughly 
fitted  for  their  vocation.  They  have,  as 
a  rule,  no  difficulty  in  finding  work  ;  indeed, 
the  owners 
of  boats,  who 
have  found  out 
to  their  advan- 
tage what  such 
scientifical  ly- 
t rained  hands 
and  heads  are 
worth,  await 
them  with  open 
arms. 

This  excellent 
education,  which 
enables  Belgium 
to  turn  out  first- 
class  fishermen, 
is  given  abso- 
lutely free  of 
charge.  It  is 
not  surprising, 
therefore,  that 
the  number  of 
pupils    demand- 


ing   admittance     is      st    dily    im  and 

that    many    who,   owii  i    times,    had 

turned  away  from  the  look  el  foi 

their   daily    bread    are    now    returning  to  theii 
former    trade,    and    avail    themselves    <>l    the 
splendid  opportunity  of  learning  the  "modern 
art''  of  fishing  as  it  is  taught  by   the  Abl 
his  followers.      The  r<  guJai  I  :  lads 

of  from  twelve  to  nineteen  years,  but  older  men 
are  always  welcome  sin  mid  they  want  to  brush 
up  their  knowledge  or  add  to  it.     At  the  present 
time    about  one    hundred    and    forty    boys 
being  trained  at  the  Ostend  "  iicole  d     Pe<  he," 
and  the  other  schools  can  boast  about  th 
average  attendance,     before  long,  when  the  I 
institutions   are    completed,    many    hundreds    ol 

youngsters  wl 
under  ordinary 
circumstant  i  s, 
would  probably 
have  been  at  a 
loss  to  know 
what  vocation 
to  turn  to  will 
emerge  year  by 
year  as  experi- 
enced fishermen 
at  an  when 

their  rivals  in 
other  less  fortu- 
nate countries 
are  still  toiling 
over  their  nauti- 
cal A  B  C. 
Truly  these  en- 
terprising people 
across  the 
Channel  d< 
to  succeed. 


THE    KULL-SIZED 


MODI   I      KISH1NG-1 

From  'i  Photo. 


A  Montana  Man-Hunt. 

By  Walter  G.  Patterson. 

An  exciting   description,  by  a  resident  of  the  State,  of  a    desperate  escape   from   gaol  and   the 

subsequent    pursuit  of  the  fugitives.     Everywhere  they  went  the  convicts   left   a  trail  of  blood 

behind    them,  but    one   by  one    they   paid    the    penalty  of  their  crimes. 


^WsW 


ILLIAM  HARDEE,  murderer,  and 
his  three  desperate  companions 
broke  out  of  the  Glasgow,  Montana, 
gaol  just  a  year  after  the  date  upon 
which  the  daring  convict  Tracy 
started  on  his  trail  of  blood  from  the  Oregon 
penitentiary.* 

Hardee  and  his  companions  were  not  seeking 
to  emulate  Tracy.  Except  that  these  gaol- 
breakers  also  left  a  trail  of  blood  in  their  wake 
and  led  their  pursuers  a  merry  chase,  the  two 
cases  are  in  no  manner  similar. 

Hardee  was  a  cold-blooded  fiend.  He  was 
to  have  been  executed  in  the  Glasgow  gaol,  just 
twenty  days  subsequent  to  the  day  he  escaped, 
for  one  of  the  most  unprovoked  murders  known 
in  Western  criminal  annals. 

Hardee  had  been  twice  sentenced  to  be 
hanged,  having  the  first  time  secured  a  new  trial 
on  technical  grounds.  He  had  once  previously 
escaped,  upon  which  occasion,  being  an  opium- 
user   and    running   short   of  the   drug  while   in 


hiding,    the   ensuing   physical    exhaustion    had 
made  his  recapture  easy. 

With  Hardee  in  this  later  escape,  the  suc- 
cessful dash  for  liberty,  was  one  McKinney— 
a  thief  awaiting  trial — and  also  two  lesser  male- 
factors, named  Jack  Brown  and  George  Pierce. 
All  were  reputed  to  be  desperate  and  dangerous 
men.  Their  plnns  had  been  carefully  laid,  and 
they  were  executed  quietly — so  quietly,  in  fact, 
that  when  "  Death  Watch"  Jack  Williams,  who 
had  been  placed  on  guard  over  Hardee  just 
before,  went  into  the  corridor  —  shortly  after 
the  dinner-squads  had  been  returned  to  their 
cells  —  and  a  steel  bar  descended  suddenly 
upon  his  skull  and  crushed  it,  Deputy-Sheriff 
Dillard,  a  few  yards  away,  had  no  warning 
of  it.  A  moment  thereafter  four  skulking 
forms  stole  upon  this  latter  official  while 
his  back  was  turned.  In  an  instant  he,  too, 
was  lying  unconscious  upon  the  floor  of  the 
prison. 

Then    the    four    prisoners    fled    swiftly    past 

the  rows  of  pale 
,  faces,  staring  with 
horrified  eyes  through 
the  grated  doors  on 
both  sides  of  the  cor- 
ridor, finding  horses 
-  placed  there  by 
confederates  —  await- 
ing them  outside  the 
doors  of  the  gaol.  By 
a  similar  mysterious 
agency  they  were  sup- 
plied with  a  small 
arsenal  of  weapons. 
a  Then    they   mounted 

without  delay,  and 
started  on  a  gallop  to- 
ward the  famous  "  Bad 
Lands  "  of  South- 
Eastern  Montana. 

On  the  afternoon  of 
l  he  escape  Sheriff 
Cosner  was  in  the 
neighbouring  town  of 


i^^MBMWiwsc-- 


THE   COURT-HOUSE   AND   GAOL    AT   GLASGOW,    MONTANA,    THE   SCENE   OF    THE   ESCAPE. 

From  a  Photo. 


*  See  the  "  Hunting  of  Harrj 
Tracy"  in  our  issue  for 
December,  1902.  —  Eu. 


A     MONTANA     MAN  HUNT. 


Havre,  awaiting  a  West-bound  train.  Word  was 
wired  him  immediately,  and  by  the  time  he 
reached  Glasgow,  his  Western  trip  abandoned, 
a  posse  of  determined  and  much-incensed  men 
were  in  readiness  to  assist  him,  and  the  chase 
down  the  river  began. 

'I  he  pursuers  anticipated  a  hard  ride,  ovei 
the  roughest  kind  of  trail,  and  they  clung  to  it 
with  that  bulldog  tenacity  which  distinguishes 
the  Western  criminal-chaser. 

One  by  one,  during  the  first  two  days  out, 
they  came  across  the  dead  or  fagged-out  horses 
which    the   fugitives   had   been   riding.      These 


one  was   injured  on  eithi 
soon  pul  .in  end  to  th<  i  ombat. 

The  fugitivi  the 

night,  and  foi  nearly  a  full  wi 
played    hid  in    the    d< 

brushwood.     Thi  y  i  aught  sight 
frequently,     and     both      id< 
ammunition     in     useless  II 

their  a  rancher  or  his  wife,  once  oi   r 
ambitious  farmer's  lad,  had  lurid  tales  to  r< 
to  the  posse  of  their  experiences  with  tl 
of    fleeing    crimina  While    the    latu  1    k<  pi 

generally  to  the  brush  on  tin-  i  bank  of  the 


A    KUNMING    BATTLE    ENSUED,    WITH     ["HE 
TWO    PARTIES." 


k    I.I    I  «  EKN    THE 


desperate  men,  instead  of  seeking  fresh  mounts. 
sought  the  better  chance  given  them  to  hide  in 
the  brush  by  remaining  on  foot. 

They  often  doubled  back  in  their  own  tracks, 
and  had  several  times  taken  to  the  shallow,  i 
parts  of  the  river— subterfuges  which  were  insults 
to  the  shrewdness  of  the  experts  after  them. 

lust  before  dusk  on  the  third  day  of  the  hunt 
the  pursuing  party  for  the  first  time  came  in 
sight  of  their  men,  straggling  wearily  along  the 
opposite  side  of  the  river  in  single  file  A  run- 
ning battle  ensued,  with  the  river  between  the 
two  parties  engaged;  and  although  bullets 
whistled  close  to  the  ears  of  the  antagonists,  no 


river,  they  frequently  crossed  to  the  oth  i 
raid  a  ranch.     Once  1  lardee,  out  of  pure  ■ 
ness,  fired  his  rifle  at    long   range  at  two   n 
across  the  river  who  were  driving  by  in  a  lumber 
waggon.     He  had   clipped  a  lock   of  hair  from 
the  brow  of  one  of  the  men  and  perl 
hat  of  the  second  as  evidences  of  his  unerring 
aim. 

On  fune  i  ith  the  pursuers  came  ui 
upon  the  lour  fugitives  in  an  op<  n  [  in  t 

brush,  at  a  time  when  ea<  h  part)   supp<  - 
other  a  mile  or  more  awaj        I 
were  about  to  kindle  a   fire  to  ] 
As  the  posse  ent<  red   this     p 
side  the  fugitives,  who  had  hi  ird  th 
through  the  willow-,,   wen 
the  other.      Like  a    Basl 
who  was  loitering  behind  for  thepui 
and    fired    poinl  blank    at    th 
pursui  re.      An   interposing  willow  b 
deflected  the  bullet   slightly,    al< 
officer's  life. 

Time  and  again  during  the  next  foui 


568 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


pursuers  came  within  a  hundred  yards  of  the 
ex-prisoners  in  the  dense  brush  ;  but  each  time 
the  latter  escaped.  It  was  ascertained  later 
that  at  one  time  the  four  men  lay  burrowed  in 
the  deep  grass  within  three  feet  of  where  the 
horsemen  rode  by.  The  hiding  criminals  at  the 
time  had  their  rifles  trained  full  on  the  hearts 
of  the  foremost  of  their  foes,  and  only  fear  of 
getting  the  worst  of  the  encounter,  because  of 
the  latter's  superior  numbers,  kept  them  from 
firing. 

There  was  a  certain  quality  of  bravado  about 
Hardee  which  manifested  itself  in  peculiar  ways 
now  and  then.  One  night  he  crept  close  to  the 
camp  of  the  posse — who  were  forced  to  work 
mostly  by  daylight  to  prevent  ambuscades  and 
to  follow  the  trail — and  took  several  chance 
shots  into  the  midst  of  the  sleeping  forms. 
Then,  with  the  camp  well  aroused,  he  and  his 
companions  yelled  in  derision,  and  proceeded 
straightway  to  put  a  night's  travel  between  them- 
selves and  their  enemies. 

One   of  the   members   of  the   posse    was   a 
rancher  in   private  life,  a  much-esteemed  citizen 
named  Charles   R.    Hill.     On    June    14th    the 
sheriff's  men  had  spread  out  in  the  brush,  as  their 
custom   was   when  they  had   reason  to   believe 
the  fugitives    were    close   by,    for   the  purpose 
of  beating  up  the  dense  jungle  in  an  attempt 
to  dislodge  them.    Suddenly  Hill  espied  Hardee 
himself  a  few  yards  ahead,  skulking  behind  a 
thin  hedge  of  willows.     The  circumstances  were 
such  that  Hill  had  the  "  drop  "  on  the  convict. 
The  latterquickly 
caught    sight    of     r- 
the    officer,    and 
saw  himself  at  his 
mercy.      Now    it 
so  chanced  that, 
some    years     be- 
fore,   Hill   and 
Hardee  had  been 
schoolmates 
together,     and 
later  fellow  -  cow  - 
punchers  in  Buf- 
falo, Wyoming. 

To  the  good- 
natured  rancher 
it  seemed  little 
short  of  cold- 
blooded murder 
to  deliberately 
shoot  his  old 
chum.  Exchang- 
ing shots  with  the 


so  Hill  thought,  would  purposely  shoot  wild, 
would  be  a  different  proposition.  As  a  sworn 
officer,  however,  on  the  trail  of  this  convict,  he 
realized  it  would  be  equally  culpable  to  do 
aught  to  warn  or  try  to  save  the  man  from  the 
other  officers.  So,  as  a  way  out  of  the  quandary 
he  was  in,  Hill  dropped  suddenly  out  of  sight 
behind  a  big  clump  of  sage.  Hardee  lost  no 
time  in  getting  out  of  the  path  of  danger, 
fully  recognising  the  generous  spirit  which  had 
prompted  his  old  schoolmate,  while  at  the  same 
time  despising  him  for  his  display  of  sentiment. 
Forty-eight  hours  later  Convict  Hardee  showed 
the  world  how  he  would  act  under  similar  cir- 
cumstances, the  relative  positions  of  the  two 
men  happening  then  to  be  reversed. 

Upon  the  morning  of  the  16th  day  of  June 
the  posse  arrived  at  a  point  on  the  river  directly 
opposite  the  beginning  of  the  trail  through  the 
"Bad  Lands"  leading  to  the  "Robbers'  Roost" 
country,  on  the  border  between  Wyoming  and 
Colorado.  This  was  a  secluded  section  of 
country,  this  "  Roost,"  which  fleeing  criminals 
always  sought  to  gain.  Reached  only  by  a 
narrow  defile  through  the  mountains,  it  had 
been  frequently  stormed  by  officers  of  the  law, 
but  had  never  been  taken.  The  gaol-breakers 
were  believed  to  be  heading  for  it.  The  posse 
had  seen  their  men  cross  the  river  near  this  spot 
while  they  were  themselves  still  half  a  mile  up 
the  stream.  They  were  confident  that  their 
men  were  concealed  somewhere  in  the  brush  on 
the  opposite  shore. 


fugitive  in  a  gene- 
ral encounter, 
when   both  men, 


*i>-  * 


'\J+ '&$&>' 


«£ 
•'«#.  *•**• 


RIVER,    TOWARDS    WHICH    THE   Eb 

From  a  I' koto. 


il-fc  1)  CONVICTS    PLED. 


A    MONTANA     MAN  IU  \  | 


The  "Bad  Lands"  of  the  Missouri  River 
comprise  a  broad  tract  of  broken  country, 
beginning     in     South-Eastern     Montana     and 


stretching  out  for  miles  into  the 
State  of  Wyoming.      It  is  a  vast  oc 


neighbouring 


drill- 


ing yellow  sand, 
the  home  of 
the  Montana 
prickly  pear ;  its 
animal  life  in- 
cludes the  lizard 
and  the  poison- 
ous diamond- 
back  rattle- 
snake. 

Upon  four 
sides  of  this 
sand  desert  are 
broad  belts  of 
dense  under- 
brush, inter- 
spersed with 
high  reefs  of 
rock.  So  thick 
is  the  brush 
here  and  there 
and  so  matted 
with  rank  grass 
that  it  furnishes 
ideal  hiding- 
places  both  for 
the  few  small 
animals  which 
inhabit  the 
country  there- 
abouts and  for 
the  f ugi  t  i  ve 
human  beings 
who  may  have 
urgent  reasons 
for  crawling 
into  it. 

Upon  the  outskirts  of  this  brush  where  it 
borders  the  Missouri,  early  in  the  morning  of 
June  1 6th,  two  young  boys,  Tom  and  George 
1*  lint,  the  sons  of  a  rancher,  were  engaged  in  an 
earnest  attempt  to  induce  a  long-eared  jack- 
rabbit  to  break  from  the  cover  of  a  clump  of 
willows.  For  this  laudable  purpose  the  lads 
were  prodding  the  brush  with  long  poles.  They 
were  true  sportsmen,  these  two,  as  all  Western 
boys  are  ;  they  scorned  taking  any  unfair  advan- 
tage of  the  timid  little  animal.  With  their  shot- 
guns grasped  firmly  in  their  right  hands  they 
waited  in  eager  readiness  for  their  quarry  to  take 
his  flying  leap. 

Suddenly  a  sound  came  from  the  depths  of 
the  clump  of  brush  which  caused  the  two  lads 
to    pause   abruptly   and    then   gaze    into   each 


HE   THRUS'i 


Vol. 


"l1"'  s  Ll"   IM  ama  i    i     •.     What  they  heard 
there  was  no  mistaking  it     was  .,  loud  human 
snore  ! 

The  lads  were  still  standing  in  open-mouthed 
surprise  at  hearing  this  unexp  ound  when 

11  ci  sud 

denly  as  it  had 
devi  I o p ( 
Then  thej 
the  poles  they 
were  holding 
seized  in  a 
powerful  grasp 
and  torn  angrily 

f  r  0  111       t  I; 

hands,  and  at 
the  same  instant 
a  man,  who  had 
apparently  been 
asleep  in  the 
willow  thicket, 
sprang  from 
behind  it,  and 
with  a  string 
oaths  thrust  a 
pair  of  big  re- 
volvers into  the 
frightened  boys' 
faces.  The  man 
was  without 
question  of  that 
variety  of  bu- 
rn an  bei  n  g 
known  as"bad." 
The  hunted 
look  about  his 
eyes,  which  died 
away  in  sudden 
relief  when  he- 
saw  that  the  in 
truders  were 
only   a    pair  of 

boys,     suggested,     too,     the     fugitive    criminal. 

Ragged  and  emaciated,    the  pallor  of   his  fa 

of  that  peculiar  shade  which  comes  from  1 

confinement  behind  iron  bars,  he  had  despen 

and  convict  stamped  all  over  him. 

The   stranger  was   manifestly  angry   b 

his  slumbers  had  been  disturbed. 

"Drop    them    shot  uuns,   you    t,  wa 

first   hoarse   command     one.  by  the   way,   I 

boys  lost  no  time  in  complying  with. 

"What    are    you   kids   a-tryin'   I  lin' 

a-proddin'  a  honest  man   in  the  ribs  when  1. 

tryin'  to  ketch  a  mouthful  of  sleep?     I've  all"  a 

mind  to " 

Whatever  his  amiable   intentions   might   h.. 
i  toward  the  lads  will  never  be  known,  tor  at 

this  juncture  a  party  ol  d  -en 


72. 


57° 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


— armed  to  the  teeth  and  plainly  a  sheriff's 
posse — came  into  sight  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  river.  Drawing  rein  close  to  the  edge  of  the 
water,  they  seemed  to  be  searching  anxiously  for 
a  safe  place  to  cross. 

It  was  apparent  that  the  horsemen  had  not 
observed  the  trio,  who  were  standing  among 
the  deep  willows  on  the  eastern  bank.  It  was  even 
more  manifest  that  one  member  of  this  latter 
party  was  excessively  anxious  not  to  be  observed. 

For  an  "  honest  man "  seeking  a  "  mouth- 
ful "  of  hard-earned  repose  the  action  of  the 
individual  whose  slumbers  had  been  dis- 
turbed by  the  young  rabbit-hunters  was,  to 
say    the    least,    passing    strange. 

Flat  he  dropped  upon  his  face,  seizing  the 
boys  by  the  ankles  as  he  fell,  and  pulling  them 
down  into  the  thicket  beside  himself,  where 
they  were  out  of  sight  of  the  new  arrivals. 

The  boys  were  frightened.  Even  had  their 
captor  not  possessed  himself  of  all  the  weapons 
they  would  still  have  been  frightened.  The 
mere  looks  of  the  man  were  sufficient  to  scare 
even  grown-up  folks. 

Rising  to  his  knees  and  looking  at  the  boys 
with  a  malicious  scowl  on  his  face,  for  a  long 
minute  he  seemed  to  hesitate  whether  he 
should  give  way  to  some  savage  inclination  or 
restrain  it  because  of  its  riskiness. 

"  The  way  you  two  kids  has  been  playin'  with 
death,  a-shovin'  them  poles  around  careless,"  he 
growled.  "  I  reckon  'taint  likely  yer  knows  who 
I  be.  I'm  Hardee,  then — Bill  Hardee,  late  out 
of  Glasgow  gaol ;  an'  I'm  a  desperate  man. 

"  Them  fellers  as  has  jest  showed  up  'crost 
the  river  is  the  sheriff  an'  his  gang,  an'  they're 
huntin'  fer  me  an'  my  pals.  The  others  are  hid 
a  piece  back  in  the  brush.  Now,  then,  the  first 
break  either  one  of  yer  makes  to  betray  me,  I 
shoots  the  two  of  yer  instanter.  So  don't  make 
no  mistake.  S'long  as  yer  does  wot  I  tells  yer 
an'  keeps  both  yer  mouths  shut,  jest  so  long 
ye're  safe." 

It  did  not  need  this  threatening  harangue  to 
intimidate  the  lads.  They  had  been  frightened 
badly  enough  when  they  had  found  themselves 
looking  straight  down  the  barrels  of  the  two 
revolvers.  Upon  hearing  the  dreaded  name  of 
their  captor  their  faces  went  suddenly  white. 

The  convict  next  ordered  the  lads  to  precede 
him  on  hands  and  knees  toward  the  upper  edge 
of  the  jungle,  where  the  top  of  a  high  ridge 
of  rock  could  be  seen  ;  behind  this  he 
undoubtedly  thought  he  could  defy  his  pursuers 
in  safety. 

When  the  lads'  movements  were  not  quick 
enough  to  suit  their  ruffianly  captor,  he  prodded 
them  viciously  with  the  barrel  of  his  rifle. 
Once  the  idea  came  to  Tom,  the  older  boy,  to 


give  his  brother  a  signal  and  make  a  bolt. 
But  a  single  glance  at  the  scowling  face  behind 
caused  his  courage  to  evaporate. 

The  boys  had  crept  along  over  the  rough 
ground  possibly  the  eighth  of  a  mile,  and  were 
already  close  to  the  high  ridge,  when  suddenly 
the  convict  paused  abruptly,  and  bent  his  head 
sideways  in  an  attitude  of  listening. 

From  somewhere  near  the  lower  end  of  the 
brush  thickets  came  the  sound  of  pounding 
hoofs — not  such  as  would  be  made  by  a  dozen 
or  a  score  of  animals— but  the  dull  thunder  of 
a  stampeding  army  of  terrified  horses.  Snort- 
ing, crashing  madly  through  the  brush,  they  were 
heading  directly  for  that  part  of  the  jungle 
through  which  the  convict  and  the  boys  were 
creeping. 

Hardee  was  familiar  with  the  various  awful 
forms  of  death  which  come  to  people  upon 
these  wild  prairies ;  he  recognised  instantly, 
upon  hearing  the  sound  of  these  beating  hoofs, 
that  here  was  a  peril  which  even  his  unerring 
rifle  was  powerless  to  avert. 

He  sprang  quickly  to  his  feet.  For  a  single 
instant  he  paused  irresolute ;  then,  utterly 
regardless  of  the  fate  of  his  youthful  prisoners 
and  angrily  cursing  this  fresh  interference  with 
his  plans,  he  leaped  through  a  side  opening  in 
the  brush  and  began  to  run  swiftly,  with  head 
thrown  forward,  toward  the  open  prairie  where 
the  sand  dunes  were. 

For  a  little  while  after  the  convict  disappeared 
the  boys  were  overcome  by  the  rapid  and  unex- 
pected change  in  their  fortunes.  Their  escape 
seemed  almost  too  good  to  be  true.  Then  they 
too  sprang  to  their  feet  and  started  in  an 
opposite  direction  to  the  one  taken  by  the 
convict,  heading  toward  the  river  as  rapidly  as 
the  thickets  of  brush  would  permit. 

The  sheriff's  posse,  whom  the  boys  had 
caught  a  brief  glimpse  of  before  being  hauled 
unceremoniously  down  out  of  sight  by  their 
captor,  had  gone  a  short  distance  down  the 
river  in  order  to  throw  the  convicts  off  the  track 
as  to  their  intentions,  if  the  latter  chanced  to  be 
watching  them.  They  had  then  crossed  swiftly 
over,  under  cover  of  a  bend  in  the  stream, 
and  hastened  back  up  the  eastern  shore  at  top 
speed. 

Presently  they  ran  into  a  large  band  of  loose 
horses — half-wild  range  animals  of  the  sort 
which  were  being  shot  by  the  ranchers  a  few 
years  ago  to  keep  them  from  spoiling  the  range- 
grass  for  the  more  valuable  beef  cattle. 

It  occurred  at  once  to  Sheriff  Cosner's  shrewd 
mind  to  stampede  the  horses  through  the  bush 
where  the  convicts  were  supposed  to  be  secreted, 
as  an  easy  and  efficient  way  of  beating  up  the 
heavy  cover.     This  plan  had  been  carried  out, 


A     MONTANA     MAN  III  NT. 


the   sheriff  first    posting    his   men   where   they 
would  command  every  possible  point  ol   >  s<  api 
when    the    fugitives   were    driven    out  of  their 
hiding-places. 

In  doing  this,  however,  the  sheriff  had  ovei 
looked  the  fact  that  these  ex-prisoners  were  also 
to  a  man  ex-"  broncho-busters,"  to  whom  daring 
feats  of  horsemanship  were  merely  play.  It 
came  to  pass,  as  a  consequence  of  this  expert- 
ness,  that  when  the  foremost  of  the  frenzied 
animals  dashed  past  the  clump  of  willows  where 
the  three  convicts  were  hiding,  McKinney, 
Brown,  and  Pierce,  seeing  a  means  open  of 
escape,  vaulted  upon   the   bare  backs  of  three 


captor,  .md  they  jumped  behind  i 

;e  out  of  the  way. 

Tin   m<  nil-  i     of  tli' 
daring  act  oi  the  i  om  ii  I  .  and  ntly 

in  pursuit.     Giving   fn 

they  made  a  wide  i  id  the  und<  rbrush 

and  attempted  to  head  the  fugitives  ofi 
they  broke  out  at  the  tapper  end  of  the  jui 
and  took  to  the  open  stretch  along  tl 
But  the  two  roans  and  the  wild 

with  fright,  were  flying  like  the  wind,  urg  d 
by  their  ragged  and  desperate  riders.  To  I 
them  at  their  mad  pace  until  a  saf<  dista 
should  be  covered,  the  three  convicts  now  and 


THE   AD\"A> 


;e  guard  of  the  main  body— TWO 


animals  they  selected,  and  dashed  on,  bending 
low  down  over  the  horses'  necks  to  escape  the 
hail  of  bullets  they  expected  would  follow  them. 
Meanwhile  the  two  boys,  headed  riverwards, 
had  barely  got  out  of  the  track  of  the  stam- 
peding mob  of  horses  when  an  advance  guard 
of  the  main  body— two  big  roans  and  a  grey- 
thundered  past  them,  On  the  back  of  each, 
stretched  out  at  full  length  and  encircling  the 
animals'  necks  with  their  gaunt  arms,  they  saw 
a  ragged  counterpart  of  Convict  Hardee.  The 
lads  recognised  the  daring  riders  instinctively  as 
the   companions    referred   to    by    their    recent 


BIG  roans  and  a  GREY— THUNDERED  PA! 

then     pricked    the    animals'    Hanks    with 
knives,  until  finally,  after  a  wild   rare  for  a  i 
the     three     foam -flecked    animals    i 
around    a    bend    in    the    distal 
couraged  pursuers,   utterly  exhaust© 
the  chase  and  hea 
panions. 

The  horsemen,  straggling  lack  in  sing 
from   their   unsuccessful   chase,    were  surpi 
when  they  cam.'  p  'tain  high  wall 

to  see  two  young  boys  stand  forth  fi  hind 

it  and  signal  them  to  halt.      I 
excited   and   somewhat   tremulous    account    ot 


572 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


their  adventure  with  the  convict  Hardee  into 
the  men's  ears  ;  and  then  bravely  offered  to 
guide  the  officers  to  the  place  where  they  had 
last  seen  the  murderer. 

But  it  happened  that,  while  these  events  had 
been  transpiring  on  this  edge  of  the  jungle,  a 
most  thrilling  tragedy  was  being  enacted  on  the 
open  prairie  side. 

Hardee,  upon  leaving  the  boys,  had  run 
swiftly  away,  dodging  in  and  out  among  the 
heavy  thickets  in 
his  path.  Finally, 
upon  hearing  the 
voices  of  some  of 
his  pursuers  close 
at  hand  in  the 
open,  he  skulked 
behind  a  barricade 
of  brush  and  rock, 
and  reduced  him- 
self into  the  least 
space  possible, 
lying  fiat  upon  the 
ground.  Peering 
cautiously  out,  he 
saw  a  party  of  five 
of  his  relentless 
enemies  approach- 
ing his  hiding- 
place  on  horse- 
back. Each  man 
carried  his  rifle  in 
position  for  instant 
use  ;  and  the  fugi- 
tive realized  that 
they  were  certain 
to  discover  him 
when  they  passed 
round  to  the  other 

side  of  his  hiding  place.  He  decided 
to  pick  off  two  of  them  with  his  rifle 
and  one  barrel  of  his  revolver  ;  and 
then  to  make  a  run  for  his  life  in   the 

i  ir,    i 

ensuing  confusion.  The  convict  was 
waiting  for  the  horsemen  to  pass  an 
intervening  wall  of  brush  in  order  that  he 
might  have  an  unobstructed  range  for  his 
deadly  bullets,  when  suddenly  his  eye  fell 
upon  his  former  schoolmate  Hill.  Such 
sentiments  as  gratitude  and  all  such  pusillani- 
mous weaknesses  as  regard  for  early  friendships 
were  strangers  to  the  cold  and  vindictive  nature  of 
the  murderer.  If  Hill  expected  sympathy  from 
him,  he  was  mistaken.  Hardee  knew  that  the 
whole  world  was  his  enemy,  and  he  hated  every 
individual  in  it  with  a  murderous  hate.  With 
an  evil  smile  curling  his  lip,  the  light  of 
murderous  desire  leaping  from  his  little  cruel 
eyes,  he  glanced  for  a  second  along  the  barrel  of 


his  rifle.  Then  he  pressed  the  trigger,  a  spitting 
sound  came  from  the  muzzle  of  the  gun,  and 
Rancher  Hill,  who  at  the  very  instant  was  hang- 
ing back,  fearful  of  coming  face  to  face  again 
with  his  former  comrade  at  a  time  when  he 
would  be  forced  to  act,  threw  his  arms  above 
his  head  and  pitched  forward  off  his  startled 
horse,  stone  dead  ! 

Eor  a  single  instant  the  other  four  men 
paused,  horrified  at  the  unexpected  deed  ;  then 

they  poured  a  vol- 
ley into  the  brush 
and,  dismounting, 
rushed  headlong 
into  the  jungle  to 
cut  off  the  mur- 
derer's escape. 

The  convict, 
wounded  to  the 
death  by  the  sud- 
den fusillade,  had, 
however,  just  suffi- 
cient strength  to 
burrow  deep  into 
the  tangle  of  rank 
grass.  The  search- 
ing posse  passed 
the  spot  and  beat 
up  the  brush  on  all 
sides  in  a  vain 
effort  to  locate  him. 
Then  when  night 
came,  satisfied  that 
the  convict  had 
once  more  made 
his  escape,  and 
being  now  short  of 
supplies,  the  sheriff 
decided  to  return 
to  Glasgow  and 
start  out  fresh 
posses  in  all  direc- 
tions in  an  effort 
to  head  off  the 
fugitives,  who 
were  by  this  time  widely  separated. 

Next  morning  a  passing  rancher  ran  across  the 
dead  body  of  Hardee  lying  in  the  grass.  The 
murderer  was  buried  where  he  was  found,  and  the 
authorities  duly  notified.  When  the  body  of  the 
unfortunate  Mr.  Hill  was  brought  back  to  Glasgow 
by  the  sheriffs  men  the  fury  of  the  citizens  for 
once  got  the  best  of  them,  for  Hill  had  been  very 
popular.  Convict  Jack  Brown — who  had  some- 
how got  separated  from  his  companions — had 
been  captured  during  the  night  in  the  little  town 
of  Hinsdale  and  returned  to  the  Glasgow  gaol, 
and  a  deputation  of  townspeople  quietly  visited 
the  gaol,  took  him  out,  and  hanged  him. 


ITCHED    KDIIWAKD    OFF    HIS    STARTLED 
HORSE,    STONE   DEAD!" 


A    MOM  ANA     MAN  1 1  IN  I 


The  next  chapter  in  this  tragi,  man-hunt 
witnessed  the  death  of  McKinney  and  the  final 
escape  of  George  Pierce,  the  last  of  the  desperate 
quartette. 

McKinney  and  Pierce  had  taken  refuge,  aft<  r 
escaping  from  the  posse  in  the  brush  and  some- 
how losing  their  companion  Brown  in  the  dark 
ness  of  the  ensuing  night,  in  an  ice-house  on  the 
ranch  of  a  certain  Mr.  J.  E.  Darnell. 

The  daughters  of  Rancher  Darnell  happened 
to  go  into  the  ice-house  soon  after,  it  being  then 
early  morning.     They  had  pottered  about  for  a 
few  moments  examining  some  hides,  and  then 
returned  to  the  farm-house  for  breakfast.   It  sud- 
den ly   occurred 
to  Miss  Ida  Dar- 
nell,  however, 
the  elder  of  the 
two    girls,     that 
there  was  some- 
thing  suspicious 
in  the  manner  in 
which     the    hay 
covering  the  ice 
had  been  banked 
up   in  a  certain 
corner.      Both 
girls,    of  course, 
knew  that  there 
were     escaped 
convicts  at  large 
in  the  neighbour- 
hood.   The  elder 
daughter  pi  uckily 
resolved     to    re- 
turn    by    herself 
and    investigate. 
Meanwhile  Con- 
vict   Pierce   had 

become   alarmed,    and  had  stolen    out   of   the 
ice-house  and  escaped. 

Miss  Darnell  re-entered  the  little  structure, 
and  pretended  to  be  busily  examining  the  hides 
again,  humming  a  tune  as  she  moved  carelessly 
about.  Her  sharp  eyes  quickly  detected  the  toe 
of  a  large  and  muddy  boot  protruding  from  one 
edge  of  the  heap  of  hay.  A  second  cautious 
glance  toward  the  suspicious  heap  showed  her  a 
bright,  murderously-alert  human  eye.  Without 
the  slightest  appearance  of  excitement  or  alarm, 
she  moved  about  for  four  or  five  full  minutes, 
afterwards  passing  unconcernedly  outside.  Then, 
with  a  rapid  movement,  the  brave  girl  closed  the 
door,  shot  home  the  two  iron  bolts  which  held 
it  fast,  and  called  loudly  for  help. 

Her  father  came  running  up,  whereupon 
Ida  hastily  explained  her  capture.  Mr.  Darnell 
being  unarmed,  she  rushed  past  him  into  the 
house  and  returned  swiftly  with  his  Winchester. 


\l'    kill!; 

upontheinm 

speedy   death    to   the   ranchei     m< 
daughters   il   any  furthei    attempt   w; 
arrest   him.     Holding  his  rifle  in  r. 

rancher  threw    the    door    ..I    th« 
open,  calling  out  at  the 
convict  to  elevate  his  hands.     ],, 
so   the   desperate    Mi  Kinm  y   leaped    i 
through  the  open  door  and  started  to  rm 
an  open  field. 

-  Halt,    or     I'll     tire  :  "    shouted     Ram 

Darnell. 

"  Fire,  then  !"  was  the  defiance  hurled  back 


OKE.    AND    COKVIC'I    MCKINNEY    SPRANG    III' 


by   the   flying   criminal.      "I'd    rather    be    dead 
anyway  than  I  e  caught  ! " 

Then   the   Winchester   spoke,   and    Convict 
McKinney  sprang  high  in  the  air  and   fell  d 

for  the  present  this  is  the  end  of  Montai 
latest  manhunt.  Pierce,  at  the  moment  of  wril 
is  still  at   large,  though   he  was   heard   from 
day  after    McKinney    met   his    fate     in.  Bui 
North  Dakota,  where  he  dropped  it   • 
and  shot  an  innocent  bar-tender  j 
in  the  morning,  "just  to  prove  that  h 
to  the  same  class,"  so  he  brutally  annou 
"as  Tracy  and   II.  how  hi:. 

good  a    man  as  the    I"  Si   of  th<  in      and 
harder  to  catch." 

This   remains    to 
chances  are  that  Pierce  will  ei 
from  a  bridge-truss 
law,     and     the    eighth    man 
se  |iu  nee  of  this 


The    Lady    at    the    Lattice. 

THE  STORY  OF  A  ROMANTIC  ELOPEMENT. 

By  John  D'Auban. 

This   narrative — told    by  the   well-known    dancing-master,  of  Holborn — is    an  experience    in    the  life    of 
one  of  his   most    distinguished    pupils.     "  Wide  World  "   readers  will  be  keenly  interested  in  the  love- 
story  of   the    Princess   Lateka   and   her  dashing   English    soldier=lover. 


DO  not  think  that  my  academy  in 
Holborn  can  exactly  be  called  a 
home  of  romance.  It  is  prosaic 
and  quite  matter-of-fact,  although  it 
has  some  interesting  associations 
connected  with  it.  But  the  story  which  I  am 
about  to  relate  was  there  confided  to  me  by  one 
of  the  principal  persons  concerned,  and  I  think 


i   ihv    i  nr:\'   ki-.\  i- 


readers  of  The  Wide  World  Magazine  will 
admit  that  the  narrative  is  not  lacking  in  the 
elements  of  romance  and  adventure. 

I  was  seated  one  morning  at  my  desk,  near 
the  entrance  to  the  academy,  when  the  door  was 


opened  and  a  lady  entered.  There  was  some- 
thing about  this  caller  that  attracted  more  than 
ordinary  attention.  She  was  tall  and  fashion- 
ably dressed,  with  a  dark  olive  complexion,  and 
her  face  was  of  a  distinctly  Oriental  type,  with 
beautiful,  piercing,  and  eloquently  expressive 
eyes.  Her  figure  was  perfect  in  symmetry,  and 
her  movements,  as  she  advanced   towards  me 

with  a  faint  smile  upon 
her  lips,  were  lithe  and 
graceful  —  very  pleasing 
to  the  eye  of  a  dancing- 
master.  Instinctively  I 
felt  that  this  was  no  or- 
dinary client,  and,  rising 
to  my  feet,  I  advanced  to 
meet  her. 

"Mr.   D'Auban?"   she 
said,  interrogatively. 

She  spoke  with  a 
slightly  foreign  accent,  in 
a  musical  and  subdued 
voice.  The  lady  then 
revealed  her  own  identity, 
and  I  discovered  that 
I  had  before  me  no  less 
distinguished  an  indi- 
vidual than  the  Princess 
Lateka  Gouldal  Riaz, 
of  Cairo,  Egypt.  She  ex- 
plained that  she  desired 
to  take  a  course  of  les- 
sons in  Egyptian  dances 
—  her  native  dances  — 
with  a  view  to  adopting 
the  stage  as  a  profession. 
I  replied,  of  course,  that 
I  should  be  very  pleased 
to  receive  her  as  a  pupil 
and  to  do  my  best  for 
her,  and  we  made  the 
usual  arrangements  as  to 
duration  and  times  of 
lessons.  Then,  with  no  further  explanation, 
the  distinguished  lady  left,  having  made  an 
appointment  for  the  first  lesson. 

Here,  thought  I,  is  a  mystery  !     An  Egyptian 
Princess,  obviously  but  recently  from  her  native 


THE    LADY    AT    THE    LATTICE. 


clime,  seeking  lessons  in  her  own  native  dances 
with  a  view  to  going  upon  the  stage  !  Bearing 
in  mind  the  various  stringent  laws  which  govern 
domestic  life  in  the  East  and  the  inviolable 
seclusion  of  the  women-folk,  I  wondered  greatly 
at  this  latest  addition  to  my  list  of  pupils.  As 
may  be  supposed,  I  was  very  curious  as  to  the 
story  of  my  distinguished  client's  life,  for  I  felt 
convinced  she  could,  if  she  chose,  tell  a  story  of 
unusual  interest. 

To  be  brief,  during  the  period  she  was  under 
my  tuition — some  eight  or  nine  months — this 
curiosity  was  gratified,  and  I  was  enlightened  as 
to  the  strange  experience  which  had  induced,  or 
compelled,  her  to  quit  her  own  sunny  and 
easeful  life  for  the  grimy  purlieus  of  London 
town  and  the  chequered  career  of  a  player. 
Here  is  the  story,  as  conveyed  to  me  in  small 
instalments  in  the  form  of  occasional  con- 
fidences. 


The  narrative  opens  in  a 
Cairo,  a  busy  market-place, 
kaleidoscopic  crowd, 
moving  restlessly  to 
and  fro.  On  either 
side  were  quaint  little 
shops,  offering  a 
variety  of  tempting 
wares,  many  of  the 
proprietors  seated 
tailor-wise  upon  ele- 
vated rostrums, 
beneath  inscriptions 
in  Arabic. 

Presently  a  little 
party  of  three  ladies 
appeared  in  the 
bazaar.  All  were 
envelope'd  in  volu- 
minous outdoor 
robes,  and  woTeyasA- 
»iaks,  or  veils ;  they 
were  accompanied  by 
the  sakka,  or  water- 
carrier,  their  constant 
attendant.  Evidently 
they  were  ladies  of 
quality,  occupants  of 
the  harem  of  some 
notable.  They  made 
their  purchases 
through  the  medium 
of  their  male  attend- 
ant, it  being  con- 
sidered derogatory  for 
the  members  of  the 
Egyptian  aristocracy 
to  buy  things  direct. 


thoroughfare    in 
with    a    motley, 


Their  movements  were  leisurely  and   graceful 
Through   the  openings  in  thi  ii  veil     the     i 
looked    out    i  icpri    siv<  ly,     onv   imi  s    smilii 
sometimes  grave.     Th 

unnoticed,   for  it   is  considered  verj   bad  form 
to  stare  at  such  folk. 

One  of  the  ladies  apparently  po 
of  rare  beauty.     Her  eyes,  in   comparison  with 
those   of    her   companions,   were  of  wonderful 
lustre  and  brilliancy,  and  changed  their  expi 
sion  continually  as  she  glanced  around  her. 

Presently,  coming  from  the  opposite  direction, 
a  young  English  officer  approached.  He  was 
attired  in  military  uniform,  and  strode  along 
with  rhythmic,  soldierly  steps,  his  spurs  jingling 
as  he  walked.  As  he  came  close  to  the  little 
group  of  veiled  women  his  eyes  almost 
involuntarily  caught  those  of  the  lady  with 
the  lustrous  orbs.  A  look  parsed  betwi 
them — a  swift,  keen  glance,  over  in  an  instant. 
Yet  the  opening  paragraph  of  a  romance  had 
been  written  ! 

The   young   officer   proceeded    on   his    way. 


with   i  hi: 


576 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


although  he  slackened  his  pace  somewhat.  The 
lady,  however,  did  not  betray  the-  smallest  in- 
dication that  she  was  in  any  way  concerned 
about  the  stranger.  She  moved  leisurely  on 
with  her  sisters  and  her  attendant,  making 
purchases  here  and  there. 

Let  us  now  return  to  the  handsome  young 
Englishman.  He  was  of  that  age  most  suscep- 
tible to  the  charms  of  the  opposite  sex,  and  he 
had  just  met  the  gaze  of  an  incomparable  pair 
of  eyes,  which  had  set  his  heart  beating  with 
unwonted  excitement.  The  novelty  of  the 
situation  appealed  to  his  somewhat  romantic 
nature.  In  love  with  a  pair  of  eyes — and  those 
the  orbs  of  a  native  lady  !  He  was  fully  con- 
scious of  the  great  danger 
of  acting  contrary  to  the 
prejudices  of  the  punc- 
tilious people  he  was  then 
amongst,  and  he  knew  full 
well  how  jealously  the 
ladies  of  the  harem  were 
guarded  from  prying  eyes. 
Nevertheless,  he  deter- 
mined to  see  the  owner 
of  those  lustrous  eyes 
again,  and,  if  possible, 
speak  to  her.  The  diffi- 
culties in  the  way  only 
added  zest  to  the  adven- 
ture. 

Thus  soliloquizing,  the 
young  officer  presently 
came  to  a  halt,  looking 
about  him  aimlessly. 
Then,  apparently  making 
up  his  mind,  he  strolled 
back  in  the  direction 
whence  he  had  come. 
The  group  of  veiled 
ladies   were  not    yet  out 

of  sight,  and  he  made  towards  them,  following 
at  a  safe  distance. 

Having  left  the  busy  neighbourhood  behind, 
the  ladies  made  their  way  through  several  con- 
tiguous thoroughfares.  Pausing  before  the  door 
of  a  large  house,  they  were  admitted,  and  passed 
out  of  the  Englishman's  sight.  Just  as  the 
portal  opened,  however,  the  officer  strode  past 
the  mansion,  apparently  taking  no  notice  what- 
ever of  the  ladies.  Yet,  as  they  passed  through 
the  door,  one  of  their  number  contrived  to 
exchange  another  eloquent  glance  with  the 
young  soldier,  who  continued  on  his  way  with 
his  brain  in  a  whirl. 

The  house  where  the  ladies  lived  was  an 
imposing  structure,  such  as  are  tenanted  by  the 
nobility  of  Cairo.  The  lower  part  was  built  of 
light  yellow  stone,  with  a  projecting  upper  floor 


THE    EGYPTIAN    PRINCESS,    I.ATEKA,    WHO    ELOl'ED    WITH 
A   YOUNG   ENGLISH    OFFICER. 

From  a  Photo,  by  Ellis  &*  Walery. 


supported  by  fancy  piers.  The  windows  were 
large  lattice-work  affairs,  of  very  close  turned 
woodwork,  some  painted,  some  plain. 

The  door  gave  on  to  a  passage,  which  wound 
about,  in  order  to  secure  privacy,  and  finally  led 
to  a  courtyard,  into  which  most  of  the  windows 
of  the  house  looked.  Directly  facing  the 
passage,  on  the  other  side,  was  the  door  leading 
to  the  apartments  of  the  harem,  which,  on  its 
farther  side,  by  means  of  small  latticed  windows, 
looked  out  upon  the  street. 

I  need  indulge  in  no  further  ambiguousness 
as  to  the  identity  of  the  two  persons  whose  con- 
duct I  have  been  describing.  One  was  the 
Princess    Lateka    Gouldal    Riaz,    my    heroine, 

and    the    other     Captain 

F ,     my     hero,     then 

quartered  at  Cairo. 

The  Princess  was  a 
great  favourite  in  her 
father's  harem,  and,  in 
common  with  most 
Egyptian  ladies  of  her 
class,  led  a  somewhat 
aimless  and  luxurious  life. 
It  must  not,  however,  be 
supposed  that  such  folk 
pass  their  days  in  utter 
idleness,  for  the  occupants 
of  the  harem  in  question, 
the  Princess  informed  me, 
were  most  accomplished, 
engaging  in  art  of  many 
kinds.  She  herself  was 
a  linguist  of  no  mean 
ability,  speaking  English 
most  fluently.  The  apart- 
ment in  which  the  Prin- 
cess passed  most  of  her 
time  was  paved  with 
marble,  had  luxurious 
walls,  and  a  bath  in  the 
centre,  into  which  played  a  perfumed  fountain. 
Upon  the  surface  of  the  water  floated  a  small 
tray,  bearing  sherbet. 

The  Princess,  having  returned  from  her  walk 
— all  ladies,  by  the  way,  are  expected  to  return 
before  sunset — doffed  her  outdoor  garments, 
revealing  her  head-veil,  loose  skirt,  and  graceful 
flowing  robe.  Then,  casting  herself  upon  a 
divan,  she  proceeded  to  think  over  her  strange 
and  fateful  encounter  with  the  white  officer 
— an  incident  which  had  brought  romance 
into  her  somewhat  monotonous  life  with  a 
rush.  Presently,  rising  to  her  feet,  she  glanced 
cautiously  around  and  then  approached  one  of 
the  small  latticed  windows  which  looked  on  to 
the  street.  Taking  a  small  stool,  she  placed  it 
near  the  wall,  and,   stepping  upon  it,  was  just 


divans    round  the 


THE    LADY    AT    THE    I. A  I  I  l<  I. 


able  to  reach  the  window,  which  she  opened 
slowly.  Then  she  gazed  cautiously  out  into  the 
street,  hoping  against  hope  that  the  handsome 
stranger  might  be  there.  But  the  quiel 
thoroughfare  was  empty.  For  a  few  minutes 
she  stood  thus,  on  tip-toe,  and  then  descended 


Looks,  howev(  r,  v..  r<  pah  m  re  ab] 

ex(  hange,  on    u  i  oun!  <»t  tl, 
attendant,    and    il  tnej, 

acquaintanceship  would  n< 

Persevi  ran<  e,  however,  is  I  ,VI1 

reward.       One    evening,    when    th 


THE    PENSEVERING    KO.MEO   GAZED 


with  a  look  of  disappointment,  having  first  care- 
fully closed  the  window. 

Following  upon  her  adventure,  she  made 
many  little  excursions  through  the  neighbouring 
thoroughfares,  always  in  company  with  her 
faithful  male  attendant,  including  the  market- 
place before  mentioned  in  her  wanderings. 
Occasionally,  strangely  enough,  she  encountered 
the  same  young  English  officer,  Captain  F-  — , 
who  also  seemed  to  have  discovered  a  curious 
predilection    for  this  particular  neighbourhood. 

Vol.  xiv.— 73. 


Lateka  had  climbed   up  and  w; 

ingly  through  her  window,  she 

observe  the  well-known  1  r  unkn 

lover  standing  sentinel  below.     <  I 

had  many  times  passi  d  li 

ing  seemingly  1 

ment,  in  tin-  h 
of  lustrous  eyes  framed  tl  but  until  1 

chance    hail    SO    far    prevented   a 

.  however,  lu<  k  favoured  tl  the 

\"  rsevering   !<■  m  ized  up  inl  t 


57* 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


his  beloved  Juliet,  the  measure  of  her  beauty 
fully  revealed  in  the  welcome  absence  of  the 
intercepting  veil. 

An  ardent  conversation  in  whispered  tones 
ensued.  The  officer  divulged  his  identity,  and 
in  return  the  Princess  told  him  all  about  herself. 
It  was  an  ideal  spot  for  a  lovers'  meeting,  and  an 
ideal  night  for  such  romantic  doings.  The 
silent  street  was  flooded  with  the  pure  lustre  of 
a  brilliant  moon,  which 
shone  dazzlingly  in  a  star- 
spangled  firmament  of  azure 
blue.  The  gentlest  of 
breezes  wafted  sweet  odours 
through  the  air,  seeming  to 
whisper  words  of  encourage- 
ment in  the  ears  of  these 
venturesome  but  devoted 
lovers. 

The  situation,  however, 
was  fraught  with  not  a  little 
peril  for  both  of  them. 
Occasionally  the  whispered 
conversation  would  be  inter- 
rupted by  an  alarm  on  one 
side  or  the  other,  and  at 
last,  after  a  tender  farewell, 
the  captain  strode  away, 
while  the  Princess  softly 
closed  the  window  and  re- 
tired to  rest,  her  thoughts 
full  of  the  handsome 
Englishman. 

There  were  many  of  these 
clandestine  meetings  by 
night,  and  at  last  it  was  mutually  agreed  to 
adopt  practical  measures  for  subverting  the 
racial  and  religious  prejudices  which  barred 
the  way  to  the  consummation  of  their  happiness. 
It  was  impossible  for  them  to  avow  their  affec- 
tion openly  upon  Egyptian  territory  without 
bringing  instant  destruction  to  their  ambitions, 
so  an  elopement  was  agreed  upon  —  nothing 
less  than  a  flight  to  the  sheltering  shores  of 
England. 

To  this  end  plans  were  prepared   by  Captain 

F ,  with  the  acquiescence  of   the  Princess 

and  her  assistance.  The  greatest  difficulty 
which  presented  itself  was  to  arrange  for  the 
lady's  escape  from  the  house  of  her  father. 
The  only  door  was  guarded  night  and  day  by  a 
sturdy  bcnvivab,  or  attendant,  for  whose  accom- 
modation there  was  a  seat  against  the  wall  just 
inside  the  hall.  It  was  agreed  that  this  man 
must  be  bribed  in  some  way.  By  slow  degrees 
he  was  approached  by  both  parties,  and,  happily 
tor  them,  proved  amenable  to  certain  "con- 
siderations," in  return  for  which  In;   was  willing 


MR.    JOHN     DAUB  AN',    THE     WELL-KNOWN     DANCINC 

MASTER   OF    HOL1SORN,    WHO    TELLS     THE     STORY    O 

PRINCESS    I.ATEKA'S   ROMANTIC    ELOPEMENT. 

From  a  Photo. 


to  efface  himself  when  the  time  came  for  action. 
Thus  the  way  of  escape  was  made  comparatively 
easy. 

The  plans  of  the  lovers  were  put  into  opera- 
tion without  further  delay.  Upon  a  certain 
night,  at  a  quiet  hour,  the  door  of  the  Princess's 
house  opened  slowly,  and  a  lady,  attired  in 
European  garb  and  wearing  a  veil  not  of 
Eastern  fashion,  stepped  out  and  made  off  with 
quick  step,  the  door  being 
gently  closed  behind  her. 
She  had  not  walked  a  great 
way  when  she  was  joined  by 
a  gentleman,  and  the  two 
departed  in  company. 

This  was  the  end  of  the 
romance  so  far  as  the  lattice 
window  was  concerned.  The 
two — Princess    Lateka   and 

Captain   F ,  needless  to 

say — made  their  way  at  once 
to  Alexandria,  where  they 
embarked  for  England.  The 
clothes  for  the  Princess's 
disguise  had  been  given 
into  the  charge  of  the  at- 
tendant by  Captain  F , 

who,  having  obtained  leave 
of  absence,  had  booked 
passages  for  England  in 
assumed  names,  and  so 
timed  their  flight  as  to  board 
the  vessel  just  as  she  was 
on  the  point  of  sailing.  The 
scheme  succeeded  admir- 
ably. The  two  arrived  safely  in  England,  where 
they  were  immediately  married  in  due  form. 

The  lady's  father — who  by  this  time  had 
learnt  the  true  facts  of  the  case — was  naturally 
exceedingly  angry  at  his  daughter's  conduct,  and 
vowed  he  would  never  again  own  her  as  a  child 
of  his.  This,  however,  troubled  the  lovers  but 
little.  They  had  each  other,  and  wanted  nothing 
more. 

This  is  the  story  of  Princess  Lateka  Gouldal 
Riaz,  as  she  herself  imparted  it  to  me.  I  found 
her  a  most  apt  and  assiduous  pupil,  a  perfect 
lady,  and  a  charming  and  entertaining  conversa- 
tionalist. She  completed  her  term  with  me,  but 
did  not,  as  matters  turned  out,  go  upon  the 
stage  after  all.  The  hottest  anger  soonest  grows 
cold,  they  say,  and  so  it  was  with  the  Princess's 
father.  He  relented,  and,  matters  being  amicably 
and  satisfactorily  settled,  the  Princess  returned 
to  her  native  land  with  her  husband.  And  so 
she  and  her  romance  passed  completely  from 
my   knowledge. 


AE.P%ATT< 


How  many  of  our  readers  know  what  a  lakatoi 
is  ?  As  the  pictures  accompanying  this  article 
will  show  them,  it  is  a  boat— perhaps  the  most 
remarkable -looking  craft  that  ever  sailed  the  sea 


-N^3 


F/^Hor^a^. 


Mr.   Pratt  has  just  returned  from 
a  lengthy  sojourn  in  unknown  New  Guinea,  and  here  describes  the  potters  of  Papua 

and  their  wonderful  fleet. 


f3l*I 


HOSE  who  are  familiar  with  the 
postage  -  stamp  of  British  New 
Guinea  must  no  doubt  have  often 
wondered  what  manner  of  strange 
craft  is  depicted  thereon.  The 
stamp,  as  will  be  seen  from  the  accompanying 
facsimile,  bears  the  representation  of  a  boat,  or, 
rather,  a  raft,  carrying  two  gigantic  sails 
resembling  the  wings  of  some  weird  bird,  and 
the  whole  appearance  of  the  vessel  is  one  that 
arouses  curiosity.  This  is  the  "lakatoi,''  the 
remarkable  trading  vessel  of  the  hereditary 
potters  of  Hanuabada,  a  little  village  not 
far  from  Port  Moresby.  The  hamlet,  with 
its  neighbour  Elevada,  is  built  partly  on 
land  and  partly  on  piles  in  the 
water;  but  while  the  land  part  of 
Hanuabada  stands  on  the  main- 
land, that  part  of  Elevada  which 
is  not  aquatic  is  founded  on  an 
island.  The  inhabitants  belong 
to  the  Motu  tribe,  and  their 
numbers  do  not  exceed  fourteen 
hundred.  Their  long,  grass- 
thatched  huts  rise  from  sixteen 
to  twenty  feet  above  land  or 
water,  and  each  has  its  little  land- 
ing-stage  on   a  lower  tier.     The 


THE    BRITISH   NEW  GUINEA 
STAMP,  BEARING    l  KEPRES1 

OF    A    I  A  I. 


main  poles  supporting  these  structures  are  01 
rough-hewn  tree-trunks  driven  down  into  the 
soft  sand.  At  a  height  of  from  five  to  six  feet 
above  the  water  the  natural  forks  of  the  main 
poles  are  retained,  and  across  these  logs  are 
laid,  forming  a  rude  platform.  Ladders  of 
very  irregular  construction  give  access  almost 
at  haphazard  from  stage  to  stage.  Looking 
through     the    village,     below    the    1;  the 

eye  encounters  a  perfect  forest  of  poles,  and 
between  the  dwellings  in  this  queer  Venice 
the  East  run  little  waterways,  just  wide  enough 
to  let  a  canoe  pass  along  without  grazing  its 
outriggers.  The  houses  themselves  each  contain 
only  one  living  apartment. 

In   and  out  among   the   hoi: 
ply   the   dug  -  out  .    and    a 

very     charming     feature     of     the 
village  is  its  crowd  of  children, 
playing  with    toy   lakal 
smallest    of   tin 
made    of  i  n   of   baml 

ballasted   with  stones,    will, 

tin'   same   shape  a-   that   of  the 
:   rati>  used  by  the  grown-up 
people.  The  bigger*  hildren, scorn- 
ing the   bamboo  vessels,  hav< 
i    kind,  in  which  the  • 


5  So 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


are  real  little  dug  outs.  These  youngsters  are 
wonderful  swimmers,  and  as  they  conduct  their 
little  regattas  they  jump  about  in  the  water, 
swimming  and  diving  fearlessly,  and  enjoying 
the  merriest  possible  time.  The  people  of 
Hanuabada  are  an  agreeable  and  rather  comely 
race.  They  are  typical  south-east  coast  natives, 
with  shock  heads  of  black  wiry  hair.  The 
women,  who  carry  on  the  characteristic  industry 
of  the  place,  the  work  in  earthenware,  are  lithe, 
picturesque  figures  in  their  long  rami's  or  kilts 
of  grass. 

It  is  a  curious  fact  that,  although  the 
Hanuabada  and  Elevada  people  live  actually 
on  waters  that  teem  with  fish,  they  are  poor 
fishermen,  being,  in  fact,  too  lazy  to  follow  that 
craft.  They  are  accordingly  helped  in  this 
industry  by  the  Hula  people,  whose  fishing 
fleet  presents  at  night  one  of  the  most  weirdly 
picturesque  sights  in  Papua.  In  order  to  attract 
the  garfish  they  burn  on  an  earthen  hearth  in 
the  bow  of  each  boat  huge  flares  of  dried  palm. 
The  work  is  not  unattended  with  danger,  for 
very  often  the  fishers  are  pierced  and  killed 
by  the  razor-like  snout  of  the  garfish,  which, 
scared  by  the  light,  leap  out  of  the  water  with 
almost  incredible  swiftness. 

For  weeks  before  the  annual  trading  expedition 
Hanuabada  is  full  of  life.     At  every  turn  one 
comes  upon  women  crouching  on  the  ground, 
fashioning  lumps  of  clay   into  the  wonderfully 
perfect  pottery  for  which  the  village  is  famous. 
The  menfolk,  although  they  do  not  condescend 
to  take  part  in  the  actual  manufacture  of  the 
pots,  are  good  enough  to  dig  the  clay, 
which  they  take   out   of  the   ground 
with  a  stone  adze — a  flat  stone  blade 
lashed  to  the  shorter  ex- 
tremity of  a  forked  stick, 
the  longer  extremity  form- 
ing the  handle. 

There   is   a    distinct 
organization    of   labour 
among    the    potters,     the 
women  being  divided  into     ^H 
"  makers  "  and  "  bakers."  jC 

Several  "  makers  "  work 
together  in  a  group.  They 
use  no  wheel,  but  seize  a 
lump  of  clay  with  both 
hands  and  make  a  hole 
large  enough  to  get  the 
right  hand  in,  whereupon 
they  gradually  give  the 
vessel  its  contour.  After 
being  roughly  shaped  it 
is  smoothed  off  with  flat 
sticks  or  the  palm  of  the 

hi  mi  f       ■      I  J  GETTING   A    LAKATOI    READY 

and.       1  he    finished  From  a] 


article  of  Hanuabada  ware  is  in  the  form  of 
a  flattened  sphere  with  a  very  wide  mouth 
and  a  neatly- finished  rim  six  or  eight  inches 
across.  Farther  to  the  east,  along  the  coast, 
the  pottery  is  highly  decorated,  but  it  is  much 
more  crude  in  form  and  has  no  fine  rim. 
The  pots  are  dried  in  the  sun  for  several  days, 
and  then  they  are  turned  over  to  the  "  bakers," 
whose  fires  are  blazing  in  every  street.  There 
are  two  methods  of  baking.  One  is  to  lay  the 
pot  on  a  heap  of  hot  ashes ;  the  other  to  build 
the  fire  right  round  it.  The  vessel  is  watched 
through  the  whole  process,  and  is  continually 
turned  on  the  fire  with  a  little  stick  thrust  into 
the  mouth. 

When  many  hundreds  of  pots  have  been 
completed  the  Hanuabada  people  begin  to 
think  about  the  disposal  of  their  wares.  Their 
great  market  is  at  Paruru,  a  long  way  up  the 
coast.  They  barter  their  pottery  for  sago  with 
the  natives  of  that  district,  and  it  is  very  curious 
to  note  that  this  extensive  trading  organization 
on  the  part  of  an  utterly  savage  people  has  been 
in  existence  from  time  immemorial,  and  is  no 
imitation  of  European  methods.  To  reach 
Paruru  the  potters  must  undertake  a  perilous 
voyage,  for  which  they  are  dependent  on  the 
tail  of  the  south-east  monsoon. 

Then  comes  the  preparation  of  the  craft,  the 


FOR    SEA — THESE    BOATS    ARE    MADE    UI'    OK    SIX    OR    MOKE    CANOI  S 
LASHED    SIDE    BY   SIDE.  [P/wtO. 


THE    VOYAGE    OF    THE    LAKATOIS 


lakatois.     About  seventy  large  dug-out  canoes 

are  brought  together  and  moored  side  by 
side  at  the  landing-stages  in  groups  of  six  or  ten, 
While  this  is  being  done  many  people  are 
out  in  the  forest  cutting  rattans  and  bamboos 
for  lashing  the  dug-outs  together,  and  for  the 
upper  framework  of  the  rafts.  Across  the 
canoes,  after  they  have  been  ranged  at  the 
proper  distance  (amidships  about  six  inches 
apart,  although  their  taper  ends  cause  a  wider 
gap  at  bow  and  stern),  are  placed  long  bamboos 
extending  a  considerable  distance  beyond  the 
port  and  starboard  sides  of  the  outermost  pair. 
Along  the  gunwales  of  each  canoe  at  regular 
intervals  stout  bamboo 
uprights  are  erected, 
and  to  these  the  hori- 
zontal   cross   bamboos 


the  sides  are  formed  ol  matting     W len  m 

now  steppi  '1  amidship    and  held  in  pi 
with  stout   stays  ol   fibre,  and  then  the  lakal 
i-,  ready  to  lils.       I  ile 

vast    kites   and   are    made   ol    native   matl 
stretched  upon  an  outei  frame  ol  bamfo ■       I 
difficult  to  describe  their   form,  and  tl 
Inst  be  understood  by  a  study  ol  the  accom- 
panying photographs. 

Why  the  strange  segment  should  be  cut  oul 
the  upper  part,  leaving  two  great  wings,  1  I 
never  been  able  to  discover.      The  sails  ol   the 
lakatoi  are  of  them  apart     Being 

stretched   on  a  frame  they  cannot   bulgi ,   but 

swing    like     boards. 
Their  poinl  i  the 

deck    and  work    freely 
in  a  socket.     The  sails 


A    FLOTILLA   OK    LAKATOIS 
From  a 


are  strongly  lashed 
with  fibre  and 
cane,  until  the 
whole  framework 
is  perfectly  rigid. 
To  the  cross  frame- 
work the  potters 
fix    down    a   floor 

of  split  bamboo,  and  all  round  the  outer 
edges  they  wreathe  dried  grass  to  prevent 
slipping  as  one  steps  on  board.  This  platform 
overlaps  all  round  the  raft,  fore  and  aft,  and 
the  cross-pieces  are  very  strong  and  firmly 
lashed.  Openings  are  left  in  the  floor  above 
each  dug-out  to  enable  the  pottery  to  be  stored 
in  the  holds  of  the  canoes.  A  clear  space  is 
left  on  the  platform  extending  about  six  feet 
from  bow  and  stern,  and  on  the  whole  of  the 
space  between  houses  are  erected  in  skeleton 
bamboo  framework.  These  can  be  entirely 
covered  in  with  mats  to  afford  a  shelter  in 
stormy  weather  or  in  rain.     The  roofs  as  well  as 


LYING    OFF   THE   COAST. 

Photo. 


are  hung  lightly  to 
t  h  e  m  a  s  t  s  1)  y 
braces,  and  there 
is  no  clewing  up. 
In  spite  of  theil 
comparath 

ity    they  are    quite 

manageabl 

in  case  of  sudden   squalls   can  easily  be  let 
The  lakatoi  is  now  ready  for   use     perh 
most  remarkable  lookii  I  whi<  h 

to  sea— and  has  only  to  b 
rigging  and    the   sails    float   long 
Papuan  grass  de<  orations,  and  th 
or  ten  lakatois  now  lying  >>U   lian- 
as  the  sun    strikes  'their    brown 
charming  spectacle. 

Bi  fore    they   proceed    to   -  a    tl 
people    institute    a    trial    trip    aiv\    i 

itta     with     several    i 
festivity.      The  B<  sometin 

by   sonic   lakatois  from  other  villages.     Th 


58: 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


sail  up  to  Port 
Moresby  from  the 
east  to  join  the  main 
expedition.  About 
eleven  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  if  the  wind 
be  strong  enough, 
the  people  of 
Hanuabada  and  Ele- 
vada  begin  to  test 
each  vessel  in  the 
harbour,  trying  how 
the  ropes  run,  how 
the  sails  work,  and 
'how  the  lashings 
hold  t  ogether . 
Everything  is  tho- 
roughly overhauled, 
for  the  lives  of  the 
menfolk  of  the  vil- 
lage depend  upon 
the  fitness  of  their 
queer  craft.  The 
crew  go  on  board 
and    take     up    their 

positions.  At  the  bow  stands  the  professional 
pilot,  a  man  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the 
coast,  and  behind  him,  stretching  in  Indian 
file  down  the  gunwale  on  port  and   starboard, 


From  a] 


A    1.AKATOI    MAKING    A    TRIAL    TRIP 


tacking  about  in 
every  direction  with 
wonderful  dexterity, 
for  the  1  a  k  a  t  o  i  s , 
clumsy  although 
they  appear,  are 
quick   "  in  stays." 

At  last  comes  the 
day  when  the  Hanu- 
abada people  say, 
"If  the  wind  is 
favourable,  we  will 
start  to-morrow." 
Vast  quantities  of 
farinaceous  food  are 
brought  on  board, 
and  the  small  dug- 
outs are  busy  dart- 
ing out  from  the 
village  to  the  fleet, 
bearing  the  stores 
that  are  to  last  the 
voyagers  for  their 
[Photo.  two  months'  trip. 
Then  the  festivities 
begin.  The  damsels  of  the  village  deck  them- 
selves most  artistically  with  finely-woven  garlands 
that  lie  in  close  cinctures  round  their  brows. 
In  most  ravishing  ramis  they  go  on  board  and 
celebrate  the  departure  of  the 
braves  by  the  wildest  dances 
atforms    fore    and   aft, 


THE    VILLAGE    DAMSELS   GIVING    A    FAREWELL    DANCE    ON    THE    STERN    PLATFORM. 

From  a  Photo. 


stand  his  crew,  each  man  handling  a  long  pole. 
The  steering  is  done  from  behind  with  crude  oars 
slightly  flattened  at  the  ends.  The  crew  pole 
gently  out  until  the  breeze  strikes  the  sails,  and 
then  away  they  go   merrily  down  the  harbour, 


dances  that  would  put  a  premiere  aanseuse  to 
shame.  They  spin  round  with  such  dizzying 
rapidity  that  when  my  son  photographed  them, 
although  he  used  a  shutter  snapping  at  a  hun- 
dredth of  a  second,  the  image  of  the  dancers 


THE     VOYAGE    (> 

was  entirely  blurred,  as  will  be  seen  from  the 
previous  picture.  As  an  accompaniment  to  the 
dances  they  sing  the  appalling  and  discordant 
songs  of  the  coast  native,  and  the  merriment  and 
motion  cease  only  for  the  intervals  of  feasting  on 


III.     LAKATOIS. 


then  young  h«  r.    3  until  tl 
has  disappeared  round  tl„ 
I       men  of  the  village  will 
for   two  months,  and 
foi    the  voyage  is  long   and 

w  e  a  t  h  e  r  s     t  h  < 
treacherous  squalls  and 
of  the    Papuan 
captains,    of    course,    hi 


I.AKATOIS    READY    FOR    THEIR    LONG    VOYAGE   OF    SEVERAL    HUNDRED    MILES. 

From  a  Plioto. 


yams,  taro,  and  fish.  The  dancing  is  for  the 
most  part  independent,  but  occasionally  there  is 
some  attempt  at  rudimentary  figures,  and  the 
little  girls,  with  arms  interlaced  after  the  manner 
of  a  "  lady's  chain  "  in  the  lancers,  form  a  ring 
in  the  centre,  while  the  bigger  girls  circle  around. 
Some  of  the  young  braves  sleep  on  board  the 
last  night,  and  the  next  day  at  dawn,  if  the  wind 
should  be  favourable,  a  start  is  made.  The  last 
good-byes  are  said,  the  small  canoes  dart  to  and 
from  the  shore  with  final  messages,  and  as  the 
great  lakatois  slowly  get  under  way  the  girls 
crowd  upon  the  beach,  shouting  and  waving  to 


knowledge  whatever   of  the  science   of   na> 
tion,  and    sail   their    vessels    by 
or — when     out    of    sight    of    land   -by     1: 
the   wonderful   instinct   which   with   them    takes 
the    place    of    the    white    man's    book-learnt 
knowledgi :. 

During  the  whole  time   that  the  tradi 
absent  gloom  reigns  in  Hanuabad  .      \ 
the  desolate  women   bar   themselves  into   their 
houses  and  remain  in  the  mosl 
until   the   daylight    reappi  It    is    a    n 

unflattering  reflection  that  this 
arisen  since  Europeans  fii 


A  Terrible  Predicament. 

By  J.  W.  Jeffreys. 

Fixed   by  the  foot  on  a  railway  line,  with  a  train  thundering  down    towards   him    through    the    night, 

his  cries  for  help  unheard,  and  experiencing  in  a  few  short  moments   the  mental  anguish  of  a  lifetime 

—  such  was  the  appalling  situation  in    which    the   author  was   placed,  as  here  set  forth. 


HE  experience  I  am  about  to  relate 
is  one  I  am  not  likely  to  forget  in  a 
hurry.  Although  its  results  were 
senous  enough,  yet  I  feel  that  I  was 
lucky  in  escaping  with  my  life.  But 
let  me  tell  the  whole  story  in  detail  from  the 
beginning. 

I  am  twenty-one  years  of  age,  and  at  the  time 
of  my  adventure  was  in  the  employ  of  the  Great 
Western  Railway  as  a  carriage  examiner.  I  live 
at  Waunwen,  which  is  not  far  from  Swansea. 
On  the  night  of  my  adventure — it  was  a 
Wednesday — I  was  off  duty, 
and  spent  the  evening  with 
my  young  lady.  We  strolled 
about  for  some  hours,  and 
towards  ten  o'clock  found 
ourselves  not  far  from  Lan- 
dore,  near  the  railway  line. 
My  sweetheart  lives  close  to 
that  place,  so,  having  said 
good-night,  we  parted  to  go 
to  our  respective  homes.  I 
had  to  make  my  way  to 
Landore  Station,  where  1 
should  get  a  train  for  Swan- 
sea, and  then  walk  the  re- 
mainder of  the  way  home. 

To  get  to  the  station  by 
the  ordinary  route  through 
the  streets  would  have  meant 
a  rather  long  walk,  and 
would  have  made  it  a  pretty 
close  thing  for  me  to  catch 
my  train ;  I  was  also  feel- 
ing somewhat  tired,  so  I 
decided  to  take  a  near 
cut  along  the  line.  The  track  was  divided 
from  the  roadway  by  a  fence,  and  I  climbed  over 
this  on  to  the  embankment  and  so  got  on  to  the 
six-foot  way.  I  heard  the  clocks  striking  ten  as 
I  reached  the  top.  It  was  a  darkish  night,  with 
a  misty  atmosphere.  The  spot  where  I  reached 
the  line  was  several  hundred  yards  from  Landore 
Station,  between  myself  and  which  was  Landore 
Viaduct,  a  tall  iron  structure,   whish   T  had  to 


THE   AUTHOR,    MR.   J.    W.    JEFFREYS. 

From  a  Photo,  by  Henry  Chapman,  Swansea. 


cross.  Still  farther  along  the  track  towards  the 
station  is  a  signal-box  ;  a  short  distance  in  the 
other  direction,  towards  Neath,  is  a  fairly  sharp 
curve,  but  as  the  track  is  pretty  high  at  this 
part  and  the  surrounding  country  very  open  the 
metals  can  be  seen  for  a  good  distance,  espe- 
cially when  standing  on  the  embankment.  It 
is  necessary  for  me  to  give  these  particulars,  so 
that  what  follows  may  be  clearly  understood. 

I  knew  that  a  "  down "  train — a  Vale  of 
Neath  train — was  about  due  over  the  metals  I 
was  then  walking  beside,  so  I  hastened  forward 
with  a  view  to  reaching 
the  station  before  it.  Very 
soon  I  arrived  within  a 
short  distance  of  the  via- 
duct, where  there  is  a  length 
of  check  -  rail.  I  do  not 
suppose  that  it  is  generally 
known  what  a  check-rail  is, 
so  I  will  explain.  At  places 
where  there  are  curves  a 
second  rail  is  placed  parallel 
to  the  ordinary  one,  as  a 
precaution  against  slipping 
and  a  check  for  the  wheels, 
the  flanges  on  the  latter 
fitting  between  the  two  rails. 
The  check  -  rails  are,  as  a 
rule,  made  of  metal,  and  are 
similar  in  appearance  to 
ordinary  rails,  but  the  one  at 
Landore  is  altogether  differ- 
ent, being  made  of  thick 
wood  and  square  in  shape. 
In  fact,  it  is  wide  enough  at 
the  top  to  walk  along.  Be- 
tween the  two  rails  there  is  a  good  space,  and  there 
is  also  a  space  between  the  bottom  of  the  rails 
and  the  ground — about  the  width  of  a  sleeper. 

As  I  increased  my  pace  I  jumped  on  to  the 
top  of  the  check-rail,  which  was  easier  to  travel 
on  than  the  rough  ground  ;  I  was  whistling  at 
the  time,  and  was  feeling  in  rather  good  spirits. 
Perhaps  I  was  not  quite  so  careful  as  I  might 
have  been,   thinking  more  of  the   young   lady 


A    TERRIBLE     PREDICAMENI 


I.ANDORE     VIADUCT — WHERE     THE     AUTHOI 
TERRIBLE     EXPERIENCE. 

From  a  Photo,  by  Henry  Chapman,  Swansea 


I  had  just  left  than  the 
walk  before  me.  Any- 
way, I  had  no  idea  of 
danger,  and  never  once 
thought  of  the  possibility 
of  any  such  accident  as 
that  which  very  soon 
happened,  although  I  had 
been  working  some  years 
on  the  railway. 

Suddenly  my  foot 
slipped.  It  went  down 
between  the  two  rails, 
and  I  found  myself  firmly 
fixed  upon  the  track.  The 
weight  of  my  body  had 
forced  my  foot  down 
until  it  became  jammed 
between  the  rails. 
Frantically  I  pulled  and 
tugged  at  it,  but  my  efforts 
to  release  myself  only 
served  to  more  firmly 
imprison  me,  for  in  my 
struggles  my  foot  twisted 
round,  the  toe  of  my  boot 

going  underneath  the  ordinary  rail  and  the  heel 
becoming  wedged  below  the  check-rail,  with  my 
foot  pointing  across  the  track. 

I  continued  to  struggle  for  some  moments 
longer,  but  only  hurt  my  leg,  and  did  not  move 
my  foot  in  the  least.  Then  a  horrible  fright 
seized  me,  and  I  broke  into  a  cold  perspira- 
t  i  o  n  .  It 
dawned  upon 
me  suddenly 
that  I  was  a 
helpless  pri- 
soner upon 
the  track,  a 
long  way 
from  an  y 
assistance,  at 
a  very  lonely 
part  of  the 
line,  with  no 
houses  near. 
And  a  train 
was  shortly 
due  along 
this  very  line  "3 

upon  which  I 
was  fixed. 

It  was  hor- 
rible! I  felt 
that,  unless  I 
succeeded  in 
releasing  my- 
self,   I     must 

Vol.  xiv.— 74. 


MET     WITH     III- 


distance       in    fact, 


I    W.\s   A    HELPLESS    PRISONER    I  l  RACK. 


I'd  Hut 
till 
i  1 
.ill 

ih. 

ham 

my   : 

purpose.    [| 
I 

move  it  .in 

I    was    simply    stui 

at  th«-   dreadful    ; 

I    found    myself  in,  and 

for  a  lime  was  dumb  with 

the    very    lion  die 

thing.      What    could     1 

do?       It     only    son 

would  come  to  my 
ance,    somebody  who 
could   save  me  bj 

ping   the    train  !       SwiftK 
I     turned     over     in 
mind  the  means  when 
1  might  attract  attention. 
( me  of  my  mates  might 
be    near,    within    hailing 
I     knew    of    (die     win.      1 
reckoned,   should   be   working   not    far    off.       1 
shouted  as  loudly  as  I  could  for  help,  hut  with 
out    receiving  any   respond     save   the   m 
echo  of   my  own  voi<  1 1;<    accidenl   'aid 

not  have  happened  in  a  much  worse  p 
me,  for,  as  I   have  said,  it  was  a  very  quiet  and 

unfrequenti 

Some   dist  way, 

towards    the    station,     I 
could  see  the  signal 
II    only    I    <■ 
the    attention    ot    the 
signalman,  whom  I 
tinctly    saw    moving 
about.     1    might    yet    be 

him  ■ 
tin 

■ 
in 

I 
m 

in. 
sh< 

u  d  I  y 
I     could, 

"Help!"  b'H 

he    did    not 

m< 


586 


THE     WIDE    WORLD     MAGAZINE. 


any  sign  that  he  had  heard  me,  and  my  heart 
sank  as  I  realized  that  my  voice  was  not  loud 
or  strong  enough  to  carry  so  far.  With  the 
doggedness  of  despair,  however,  I  continued 
to  watch  the  signal  -  box  and  wave  my  arms 
mechanically,  and  presently  the  signalman  sud- 
denly left  the  window.  For  one  joyful  moment 
I  thought  that  he  had  been  attracted  by  my 
voice  or  gestures,  and  my  heart  beat  wildly  at 
the  hope.  But  nothing  happened,  and  my  fears 
returned. 

Then,  faintly,  I  heard  the  tinkle  of  the 
telegraph  bell,  and  saw  the  signalman  go  to 
the  levers,  one  of  which  he  pulled.  Between 
me  and  the  signal-box  was  a  signal-post,  and  as 
I  looked  towards  it  the  red  light  on  it  suddenly 
turned  to  green. 
It  was  the  "  line 
clear  "  signal  for 
the  oncoming 
Neath  train  ! 

At  this  awful 
moment  I  became 
faint  and  sick,  and 
moaned  aloud  in 
my  agony  of  sus- 
pense. Neverthe- 
less, I  continued 
to  call  for  help  and 
to  struggle  frantic- 
ally  to  free  myself, 
although  all  m  y 
efforts  were  quite 
useless  ;  my  foot 
was  as  firmly  fixed 
as  ever.  Then  an 
idea  suddenly 
occurred  to  me — 
why  not  try  and 
release  the  foot  by 
cutting  away  the 
boot  ?  Promptly 
I  took  out  my  knife 
and  severed  the 
laces  at   several  of 

the  eyelets,  but  the  operation  did  not  ease  my 
foot  much.  However,  I  continued  to  cut  away 
the  laces  with  feverish  energy,  although  I  found 
it  difficult  to  get  at  the  lower  ones,  on  account 
of  the  position  of  my  foot. 

If  only  I  had  time  I  might  get  free,  but  the 
time  was  so  very,  very  short.  Even  as  I 
stooped  over  my  work,  feeling  for  the  laces  in 
the  darkness  under  the  rail,  I  heard  a  slight 
rumble  on  the  track.  Only  too  well  I  knew 
what  it  meant — the  Neath  train  was  approach- 
ing !  My  heart  seemed  to  sink  and  my  hair  to 
bristle,  for  d^-ath  appeared  very  near  now— 
death  in  a  most  horrible  form.     I  knew,  how- 


THE   RUMBLE   GREW    LOUDER   AND    LOUDER    EVERY   SECOND. 


ever,  that  a  train  may  be  heard  advancing  while 
yet  a  good  way  off,  and  I  hoped  against  hope 
that  there  might  yet  be  time  to  free  myself. 
Frantically  I  cut  away  at  the  stubborn  boot, 
the  perspiration  dropping  off  my  face  in  huge 
drops.  But  the  rumble  grew  louder  and  louder 
every  second,  and  my  foot  still  remained  fixed. 
With  a  sickening  sensation  of  dizziness  I  realized 
that  my  task  was  hopeless — it  was  too  late  to 
struggle  !  But  I  continued  to  shout— to  shriek 
rather — for  help.  Louder  and  louder  still  grew 
the  roar  of  the  train,  drowning  my  agonized 
cries,  and  looking  along  the  track  I  saw  the 
lights  of  the  advancing  engine  in  the  distance. 
Nearer  and  nearer  it  came,  round  the  bend, 
and  then   it  bore  straight  towards  me  like  some 

bright -eyed  mon- 
ster, until  I  felt  the 
vibration  of  the 
metals  underneath 
me. 

I  cannot  quite 
say  w  h  a  t  m  y 
thoughts  were  at 
that  moment  ;  I 
know  that  they 
were  dreadful.  I 
thought  of  my 
sweetheart  and  my 
mother,  and  felt 
that  I  was  going 
lo  die,  and  die  in  a 
shocking  manner. 
But  I  kept  on 
shouting  and 
waving  my  arms. 
Looking  round  de- 
spairingly  towards 
the  signal-box,  I 
saw  the  figure  of  a 
man  on  the  other 
side  of  the  track 
running  towards 
me  and  shouting. 
It  was  one  of  my 
mates,  who  had  heard  my  cries,  and  was  now 
hurrying  to  my  assistance  !  But  he  was  yet 
a  good  way  off,  while  the  train  was  very 
near.  He  came  on,  shouting  and  waving  his 
arms,  and  I  shrieked  out  to  the  driver  of  the 
train,  hoping  to  attract  his  attention  in  time 
for  him  to  pull  up.  But  apparently  he  could 
neither  hear  nor  see  me,  and  the  train  came  on 
swiftly  and  mercilessly. 

When    the   engine   was   within    a    very    short 
distance  of  me  the  driver,  who  was  looking  out 
of  his   cab,   suddenly  caught   sight   of  me  and 
instantly  shut  off  steam   and  applied  the  brakes 
But  it  was  too  late  !     At  the  same  time,  seeing 


A    TERRIBLE    PREDICAMEN'J 


that    I    could    not    save    myself    altogether,    I 
suddenly    thought    that   I    might   at    least   save 
myself  from    death.      I    was   fixed   on    tl 
side    of  the    track    and    behind    me   was    clear 
ground,  so  when  the  train  was  within  a   few  feet 
of  me  I  summoned  up  all  my  strength  and  threw 
my  body  as  far  back  as   I   could.     The  engine 
had     its     tender    in     front,     and    this     pa 
without  touching  me,  but  the  step  of  the   1 
motive  struck  my  imprisoned  left  leg  above  the 


the  -'"'I'  "'  ""•  rails,  mj  I i  being  ,, 

away.        Phen     1 

Station    where  "first  aid 

Which    1    was    taken    I  ;. 

horse    ambulance     [t   v.  , 

sustained    a    compound    fractui 
which  had  to  be  immediately  amputated, 
next  day  1  felt  comparatively  well,  and  am 
at   the    moment   of    writing,    in    tl„ 
Convalescent  Home. 


THE   TRAIN   CAME   ON    SWIFTLY   AND   MERCILESSLY." 


knee  with  tremendous  force,  causing  me  intense 
pain. 

With  all  possible  speed  the  train  was  pulled 
up,  and  actually  came  to  a  standstill  over  me. 
I  was  suffering  great  pain  and  my  wounded  leg 
was  bleeding  very  much  ;  but,  although  I  was 
feeling  very  faint  and  ill,  I  never  once  lost 
consciousness.  My  agitated  mate  came  round 
to  help,  but  before  I  could  be  released  the 
train  had  to  be  backed  off  me.  Several  other 
men  coming  to  my  assistance,  I  was  freed  from 


Since  the  accident  several  good  people  I 
made  all  sorts  of  brilliant 
I  should  have  done  to  save  myself  whil<    i 
lived  on  the  line,  among  other  id- 
light   to   some    paper    and    waving    it    in    !: 
of    the    engine.        but    one    wai  not 

to  mention   matches,  for  such  a  dei  and, 

moreover,  one  can't  think  of  ev<  rytl  uch 

a  time.      Personally   I  i  onsid 
in  escaping  with  my  life   from   such  a  terrible 
predicament. 


<*Jn  the  UJombeyem  Caves. 

By  F.  S.   Hartnell. 

The    author    describes    his  visit     to    the   wonderful    series   of   caverns   at    Wombeyan,   in    New    South 

Wales.     Lying  far  from  the  beaten  track,  the  caves  can  only  be  approached  by  a  difficult  and  dangerous 

road,  but  their  manifold  beauties  well  repay  the  adventurous  traveller. 


MONG  beautiful  works  of  Nature 
few  are  entitled  to  rank  above  the 
wonderful  stalactite  and  stalagmite 
caves  which  are  to  be  found  in  lime- 
stone districts  in  various  parts  of  the 
world.  The  specimens  nearest  home  are  the 
ones  at  Cheddar,  in  Somerset,  but  the  most 
complete  and  extensive  are  those  to  be  found  in 
New  South  Wales.  There  are  several  series  of 
caves  of  wonderful  beauty  in  this  region, 
the  most  accessible,  and  therefore 
most  popular,  being  the  famous  Jenolan 
Caves.  These  are  situated  a  little 
over  a  hundred  miles  from  Sydney, 
but  are  altogether  too  well  known 
to  warrant  more  than  a  passing  re- 
ference. Another  set  of  caves, 
more  wonderful  if  anything  than 
Jenolan,  are  those  of  Wombeyan, 
situated  in  an  almost  inaccessible 
spot,  forty  -  five  miles  from  the 
nearest  railway  -  station,  Bowral,  on 
the  Southern  line. 

For  the  sake  of  those  who  have 
never  seen  these  wonderful  lime- 
stone growths  it  may  be  necessary 
to  state  simply  what  are  stalactites 
and  stalagmites,  and  why  people 
undergo  such  inconveniences  in  order 
to  see  them.  The  stalactite  is  a 
limestone  growth  formed  on  the  roof 
or  side  of  a  cave  by  the  action 
of  water  charged  with  limestone; 
the  former  evaporating,  leaving  an 
incrustation  of  the  latter.  The 
stalagmite  is  formed  on  the  floor 
of  a  cavern  by  the  drips  of  lime- 
stone-charged water  which  fall  from 
the  stalactites,  and,  of  course, 
grow  "  up  "  instead  of  "  down." 
The  process  of  growth  is  natur 
ally  so  slow  that  scientists  hesitate 
to  place  a  probable  age  on  the  forma- 
tions, but  all  are  agreed   that  it  must         From  a] 


have  been  going  on  for  millions  of  years.  The 
caves  form  themselves  into  series,  and  are 
really  great  hills  completely  hollowed  out.  How 
this  mighty  work  was  done  none  can  say  with 
certainty,  but  the  scientific  explanation  is  in- 
teresting and  deserving  of  respect.  It  raises  a 
picture  of  the  distant  time  when  all  the  eastern 
part  of  Australia  lay  under  the  seas.  Then,  as 
now,  the  busy  polyps,  or  coral  insects,  were 
patiently  assimilating  lime  from  the  water,  de- 


THE    BEAUTIFUL        DRAl'EKY   CHAMBER. 


{Photo, 


IN      MIL     WOMBEYAN     CAVES 


positing  it,  and  forming  the  coral  reefs.  When 
the  reefs  ceased  to  grow  debris  of  all  kinds  was 
deposited  on  them  for  countless  ages,  crushing 
them  into  solid  limestone.  After  this  the 
upheaval  ;  the  ocean  bed  came  up  into  the  life- 
giving  rays  of  the  sun,  and  the  dry  land  went 
back  to  lie  fallow  beneath  the  waters.  ( )n  the 
surface  of  the  newly-raised  land  grew  the  vegeta- 
tion of  the  period,  and  as  it  died  and  rotted 
away  carbonic  acid  gas  was  distilled.  This 
aided  the  water  as  it  furrowed  through  the 
limestone  strata,  hollowing  out  the  present 
tunnels  and  caverns,  and  as  it  evaporated 
leaving  parts  of  the  lime  behind.  Thus  were 
created  these  wonderful  cave  formations  and 
the  crystal  growths 
that  adorn  their 
walls. 

Wombeyan 
Caves   not    having 
yet    come     into 
popularity,     the 
journey  to  them  is 
only  accomplished 
with     considerable 
difficulty.       There 
are    practically    no 
roads,    and     the 
writer     and     his 
party    came    igno- 
miniously   to   grief 
in     their    first     at- 
tempt to  reach  the 
place,      owing     to 
the    axle  of    their 
vehicle      breaking, 
causing    so    much 
delay    that     the 
journey  had  to  be 
abandoned.       The 
Wollondilly  Valley, 
in  which  the  caves 
are      situated,       is 
just  here  wild  and 
useless     for    culti- 
vation,    so     the 
chances     of     help 
in  case  of  accident 
are    small    indeed. 
On    the    second 
occasion,  however, 

horses  were  resorted  to,  and  after  much  scrambling 
and  careful  riding  the  caves  were  reached  in 
a  day  and  a  half.  The  Government  has 
erected  a  small  accommodation  house  here  and 
placed  a  caretaker  in  charge,  but  it  wil 
probably  be  many  years  before  electric  light  wil 
be  installed  or  proper  provision  made  for  the 
safety    of   visitors,  such    as    exists    at  Jenc 


LOT  S     WIFE 

From  a] 


THE     COCKATOO,"      TWO     OF 

I- VAN 


Consequently     none     bul     enth  to 

Wombeyan. 

Many   pens   lu\  ■  atlem] 

wondei  ful  el  hut 

few  have  mel  w  ith  any 

essentially  things  to  be  seen  I 

The  variety  of  formations  in  i 

so  great  that  the  mind  cannot  tak  all  in 

with  a   single   visit.     It    is    only   aftei    dilif 

examination  in  the  company  oi 

that   the   visiter  can   hop  and    un 

stand    things    properly.       Following 

taker    along    the    gloomy   pa 

nesium    lamp   suddenly    reveals   a    magnifii 

cavern,  its  roof  studded  with  stalactites  of  all 

shapes  and 
each  one  glittering 
like  a  thousand 
diamonds  in  the 
cold,  strong  light. 
M  a  n  y    ass  u  m  e 

iurs  and  foi 
so    like    obji 
and 

animal     and    i'i 
table    kin. 
that,    as    the    lij 
dies  out,  you  rub 
your      <  •  •    . 
deri ng   for   the 
moment     whether 
you  have  not  b 
dreaming,  w  hi  iher 
your   taste   be 
the     massive     and 
majestic  or   the 
d.  licate  and   1> 
tiful,  in  evi  ry  • 
there    is     SI  fl 
to    excite    the 
ad  m  i  r a  t  i  o  n 
all.     Great    tinted 
1  u  m  n  s    a  n  d 
stalactit  ral 

feet     in    i 

set      Ofl 

taining    tiny 

pel,  '<  d 

gile     i 
.ill    the 

the     ti 
the    wi 


I  hi      WOMDI  RPD1 

[Phi 


from    fairyland.       In 

in     Southern      New 

stalactites     shaped 

colour    being 

fill,  ring  through  irons:. 

crystals  of  the  same  ™,te 

colour,    representing   parsnips  to  the  lif< 

wonderful  nitic 


59° 


THE    WIDE     WORLD     MAGAZINE. 


formations  in  the  shape  of  cabbages,  these  being 
formed  by  the  action  of  an  underground  river 
which  once  existed  there.  What  are  known 
as  "shawl  formations"  are  very  frequent- 
beautiful  examples  of  Nature's  freakish  art. 
They  generally  form  at  a  fissure  between  two 
rocks,  and  hang  down  in  thin  layers  in  perfect 
representation  of  a  shawl,  or  else  of  a  huge 
rasher  of  bacon.  The  presence  of  iron  in  tbe 
carbonate  of  lime 
at  certain  periods 
during  the  process 
of  growth  provides 
even  bands  of 
colour,  and  the 
effect  is  exceed- 
ingly beautiful 
when  a  light  is 
placed  behind  a 
good  specimen. 
The  human  and 
animal  form  is 
very  frequent,  and 
the  finding  of  re- 
semblances  is    the 


source  of  great 
amusement  to 
visitors  when 
going  through  the 
caves.  "  Lot's 
Wife,"  in  the  form 
of  i  rregular  1  y- 
shaped  pillars  in 
puie  white  lime- 
stone, is  to  be 
found  in  almost 
every  cave,  and,  as 
the  dripping  from 
the  roof  is  cease- 
lessly going  on, 
these  pillars  look 
very  fine  glistening 
in  the  light. 

"Lot's  Wife  and  the  Cockatoo"  is  a  splendid 
example  of  the  figure  formation  at  Wombeyan. 
One  of  the  accompanying  pictures  gives  an 
excellent  idea  of  the  bird  with  his  back  towards 
the  camera,  "  Lot's  Wife  "  towering  above  him  on 
a  natural  pedestal.  Some  of  the  ordinary  stalac- 
tites have  been  so  well  and  truly  made  that  when 
struck  they  emit  musical  sounds  varying  in  tone 
according  to  their  thickness.  The  guide  usually 
gives  the  visitors  a  short  musical  selection. 
What  are  known  as  the  "swinging  stalactites" 
at  Wombeyan  Caves  are  worthy  of  note. 
They  are  so  slender  that,  when  lightly  touched, 
they  will  keep  swinging  for  about  twenty 
minutes. 

When    all     is    said    and    done    the    crowning 


SWINGING     STALACTITES     -THtV     AKE 

From  a]  they  will  swing  for 


glory  of  these  charming  works  of  Nature- 
is  the  "  Mystery "  formation.  We  have  in 
it  one  of  those  things  which  science  cannot 
explain,  even  to  its  own  satisfaction.  That 
water,  saturated  with  lime,  should  in  the 
course  of  time  form  stalactites  and  stalag- 
mites of  perpendicular  shape  is  explicable 
enough ;  and  it  is  also  feasible  that  these 
deposits  should  occasionally  take  shapes  re- 
sembling things 
in  our  experience 
in  the  sentient 
world.  But  that 
there  should  be 
stalactites  which 
twist  and  turn, 
grow  up  and  down, 
and  turn  again 
would  seem  to  be 
scarcely  credible 
when  we  considei 
the  way  in  which 
they  are  formed. 
Yet  '  such  are  to 
be  found  in  pro- 
fusion in  each  of 
the  caves  in 
New  South  Wales, 
and  no  better 
name  has  been 
found  for  them 
than  "  M  y  s  - 
teries." 

Everybody  who 
has  seen  them 
advances  his  own 
theory  as  to  how 
they  came  to 
lake  their  shape, 
but  no  explana- 
tion has  been 
given  which  can- 
hot  be  upset. 
Some  consider  that  currents  of  air  may 
account  for  the  irregularity,  but  this  will 
only  hold  good  where  the  formations  all 
lean  in  the  same  direction.  Look  at  the 
wonderful  "  Cross  -  Bar  Mystery  "  which  has 
recently  been  discovered  in  the  Wombeyan 
Caves.  No  current  of  air  could  have  caused 
such  a  maze,  as  all  will  admit  merely  from 
seeing  the  picture  reproduced,  which  is 
the  only  one  ever  taken  of  it.  If  yon  would 
present  to  your  mind  an  idea  of  what  this 
curious  formation  is  like,  conjure  up  an  in- 
dentation in  the  wall  of  a  small  underground 
cave.  A  bunch  of  stalactites,  glistening  in 
the  light  of  the  guide's  lamp,  grows  thickly 
forward,   crossing    each    other   at    right   angles, 


SO    SLENDER     THAT,    WHEN    TOUCHED, 
TWENTY   MINUTES.  [Photo. 


IX    THE    WOMBEYAN    r.\\  ES 


in.     I 

JTOU  mi. 

a  bun.; 

you    musl    ta 

mi    which    I'ti'L.  s   thi  I 

timber  slopi  -  upv 
against    the   wall,   cai  n 
astride      you    musl    h 
hands,  working  your  waj 
on  the   horizontal   bai      l 
and  othei 

managed  to  follow  them  without  m 
han,    and   after    more    squeezing 
crawling   rea<  hed   the  diminutive   hi 
in   which   the   wonderful   "( 
Mystery  "  was.     There  was  onlj    p 
for   one    person    at    a    time,    and    I 
accompanying  picture  ol  the"Mj 
was    taken    with    the    guide    i 
his   magnesium   lamp  in  th 
which  the  last  of  the  pictures  sh 


THE    EXTRAORDINARY    "  CROSS-BAR    MYSTERY       WHICH 
SCIENTISTS   AKK   QUITE    UNABLE   TO    EXPLAIN. 

From  a  Photo. 

some  going  up,  some  down,  others  grow- 
ing out  and  curving  upwards,  returning 
to  the  wall  whence  they  sprang.  But,  like 
all  things  worth  having,  this  "  Mystery  " 
is  only  to  be  seen  by  the  daring.  Out 
of  seven  men  of  our  party,  all  young  and 
active,  only  one  had  nerve  enough  to  go 
through  the  risky  undertaking  to  the 
end.  All  were  brave  enough  till  we  got 
to  the  "slide,"  consisting  of  a  narrow 
hole  into  which  you  must  go  feet  first, 
and  then  allow  yourself  to  slide  some 
eight  or  ten  feet  in  absolute  darkness, 
trusting  in  the  guide's  assurance  that  it 
is  "all  right."  As  there  is  nothing  to 
hold  on  to  you  must  let  yourself  go, 
trusting  in  Providence.  Then  comes  an 
apparently  endless  series  of  twistings  and 
turnings,  and  when  you  think  you  are 
nearing  the  bottom  you  happen  upon 
a  further  obstacle  in  the  shape  of  a  deep, 
dark  chasm,  just   high  enough    to  crawl 


mi    i 

i 


The   Quest   of  Ambrose    Leake. 

By  A.  T.  Story. 

A  story  of  pathetic  interest.  How  a  young  man  set  out  from  England  to  discover  and  rescue  his 
brother,  who  was  languishing  in  prison  somewhere  in  Mexico.  Carrying  a  tin  whistle,  he  wandered 
from  gaol  to  gaol,  like  King  Richard  the  Lion  -  Heart's  faithful  minstrel,  playing  his  brother's 
favourite  airs,  hoping  that  the  prisoner  might  hear  him  and  be  able  to  communicate  with  him. 
Incredible  as  it  may  seem  this  simple  scheme  succeeded,  and  after  passing  through  many  perils  the 
two  brothers  returned  safely  to  England.  The  author  obtained  the  facts  from  members  of  his 
family  who  knew  the  Leakes  and  were  thoroughly  acquainted  with  their  romantic  history. 


ILLIAM  and  AMBROSE  LEAKE 
were  the  sons  of  an  old  Hull  skipper, 
popularly  known  as  "  Old  Ambrose," 
who  brought  them  both  up  to  the 
sea.  The  elder  was  from  his  youth 
of  a  very  independent  disposition,  quick- 
tempered and  high-spirited.  He  was  appren- 
ticed to  a  Newcastle  collier,  but,  finding  the 
captain  very  brutal,  ran  away  from  him  and 
sailed  for  some  years  almost  wholly  in  foreign 
ships.  Finally,  finding  himself  in  San  Francisco 
when  the  war  with  Mexico  broke  out,  he  enlisted 
in  the  American  Navy  in  the  hope  of  seeing 
some  fighting  and  winning  a  little  booty. 

He  soon  had  plenty  of  fighting,  but  the  booty 
was  still  to  seek,  when  one  fine  morning  the 
frigate  in  which  he  served  was  sighted  and 
attacked  by  a  Mexican  man-of-war.  The 
Americans  had  quite  enough  to  do  to  hold 
their  own  against  this  one  vessel,  and  when  they 
saw  a  second  bearing  down  upon  them  would 
fain  have  drawn  off.  But  this  was  impossible, 
and  within  half  an  hour  the  two  Mexicans  had 
so  riddled  their  adversary  with  shot  that  she 
began  to  sink.  The  enemy  did  their  best  to 
save  the  lives  of  the  officers  and  crew,  but  many 
were  drowned,  while  the  rest,  who  were  carried 
to  one  of  the  Pacific  ports,  soon  found  them- 
selves lodged  in  prison. 

The  report  of  the  capture  naturally  found  its 
way  into  the  English  papers,  and  was  seen  both 
by  the  old  skipper  and  his  younger  son,  Ambrose, 
who  happened  at  the  time  to  be  at  home. 

They  waited  anxiously  for  a  week  or  two  in 
the  hope  of  hearing  further  news  ;  then,  as  no 
word  came  to  hand,  Ambrose  resolved  to  make 
his  way  to  New  York  with  a  view  to  finding  out 
what  he  could  of  the  missing  brother.  At  New 
York  he  learned  that  William  was  not  dead,  but 
a  prisoner,  and  so  he  determined  to  go  to  Vera 
Cruz,  which  the  Americans  were  then  blockading, 
and  endeavour  to  effect  a  landing,  his  idea  being, 
if  possible,  to  find  out  his  brother's  whereabouts 
and  try  to  effect  his  release. 

It  had  seemed  to  him  that  when  he  set  foot 


on  Mexican  soil  half  his  task  would  be  accom- 
plished. His  first  feeling,  however,  on  finding 
himself  in  Vera  Cruz  was  one  of  almost  utter 
helplessness.  How  was  he,  a  stranger  in  a  foreign 
land,  to  discover  his  brother's  whereabouts,  let 
alone  aid  him  to  escape  ?  Nevertheless,  he 
pluckily  set  to  work  to  obtain  information. 

He  took  up  his  quarters  at  a  little  posada 
(inn)  much  frequented  by  sailors,  and  for  two  or 
three  days  contented  himself  with  talking  to 
the  landlord  and  his  guests.  This  he  was  well 
able  to  do  from  having  spent  a  good  deal  of 
time  in  the  trade  with  Spain  and  in  Spanish 
ships.  Cautiously,  too,  he  explored  the  city, 
and  made  what  inquiries  he  could  respecting 
American  prisoners,  and  where  they  were  in- 
carcerated. 

Don  Miguel,  the  landlord  of  the  posada,  at 
first  appeared  to  regard  him  with  some  suspicion, 
imagining  that  he  was  an  American  in  disguise 
and  that  he  was  playing  the  spy.  Leake,  how- 
ever, quickly  disabused  him  of  this  idea  by  pro- 
ducing his  papers,  which  he  had  taken  the  precau- 
tion to  obtain  before  leaving  England.  He  now 
speedily  gained  the  good  opinion  of  the  host,  as 
well  as  of  everyone  else  in  the  house. 

This  was  chiefly  due  to  his  unfailing  cheerful- 
ness and  good  nature  ;  but  he  had  a  valuable 
auxiliary  in  a  tin  whistle  which  he  always  carried 
with  him,  and  on  whose  aid  he  greatly  relied  in 
the  effort  he  was  about  to  make  to  find  his 
brother. 

This  whistle  was  brought  forth  and  played 
upon  on  every  suitable  occasion.  He  whistled 
melodiously  in  the  public  room  of  the  posada  to 
the  delight  of  all,  and  often  was  a  dance  impro- 
vised to  its  lively  strains  ;  he  whistled  while 
seated  on  a  bench  by  the  door  ;  and  one  day,  a 
throng  collecting,  the  people  thought  he  was 
playing  for  alms  and  threw  money  on  the  table 
by  his  side.  When  he  had  finished  his  per- 
formance he  gathered  up  the  coins  and  gave 
them  to  the  host  to  be  expended  in  charity  on 
poor  wayfarers. 

All  this  time  Leake  was  busy  gathering  infor- 


nil-.    Qt  EST    O]     AMBROSE    LEAKE. 


mation    about  the   prisons  in  which    American 
men-of-war's  men    were   incarcerated.       Having 

at  length  learnt  all  he  could,  he  thought  it  time 
to  set  forth  on  his  pilgrima 

It  is  not  necessary  to  follow  our  hero  in  all 
his  wanderings.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  before 
leaving  England  he  had  taken  his  savings  from 
the  bank.  •  Part  of  this  amount  he  now  con- 
verted into  Mexican  currency,  leaving  the 
remainder  in  charge  of  the  British  Consul,  to 
be  forwarded  to  him  if  needed. 

Then  he  set  out,  wandering  from  village  to 
village  and  from  town  to  town,  playing  wherever 
he  went,  especially  outside  the  prisons,  hoping 
against  hope  that  his  brother  might  hear  the 
familiar  tunes  and  be  able  to  communicate  with 
him.  In  this  manner  he  spent  the  best  part  of 
three  months  without  success,  though  he  did 
not  lose  heart.  His  method  of  getting  from 
place  to  place  was  to  join  the  endless  strings  of 
mules  which  were  ever  travelling  from  the  coast 
towns  inland,  and  vice  versa.  By  this  means  he 
was  able  to  travel  not  only  without  much  danger, 
but  at  comparatively  little  cost. 

Nevertheless,  he  did  not  make  much  headway 
as  regards  the  object  of  his  search.  One  even- 
ing, tired  out  and  sad  at  heart  after  nearly  three 
months  of   fruitless   wandering,   he  came  to  a 


"HE    r.F.GAN    TO    PLAY   ON    HIS   WHISTLE    IN    ANYTHING    I 

Vol.  xiv.— 75. 


small   town. 

in  i"  plaj  "ii  i 
ch<  <  rful   in'    ii 
others  with  whom 
day  gathered  about   him   and    I 
music. 

Among  the  numbei 
longei  young,  but  still  with  .. 
kindly  eye.      1  hi    En  dish  lad  had  n 
laughing  and  jesting  with 
company  as  they  travelled  aloi  1 

the  sailor  saw,  was   now   seated  a   littli 
talking  with  another  ol  his  cloth  and  listt  : 
very  intently  to  the  tin. 

At  length,  when  Leake  had  finished  playi 
"  Kathlei  n  Mavoui  n<  i  n,    the  padre  appr 
him  and  said  in  English,  though  with  a  bi 
Irish  accent :  — 

"  Friend,  they  tell  me  you  are  an  Englishn 
but  I  think  there  must  be  a  little  of  the  Irishman 
in  you   too,  for  that  is  the  third  Irish  air  I  have 
heard  you  play  to-day." 

"It  is   true,  sir,"    replied   Leake,    "I   am   an 
Englishman,    but,   as   my   mother    was   a    Cork 
woman,  I  think  I  may  claim  to  be  somcthin. 
a  compatriot  of  yours." 

"Och!       There's     no    mistaking    me!      the 
padre   returned.      "I'm   Irish  to   the    back! 

an'  proud  I  am  of   the 
same.      But  what 
u    tootling     it    I    i 
put  it— throug 
ill-starred  countn 
pi 

"Why    nol  - 
Leake,   evasively,    for    it 
behoved    him     I 
lutious. 

"Well,     I     bai 
right    to    pry    inl 
affairs,"    repli 

dre  :    •"  but    1    would 
sen  I       ild." 

"  Yo  u 
I     I    .  .  ..ii  by  th< 
man's  i 

••Well.     I 
turned    tl 
the  next  town 

1  am 
an 

hi 

and  the  sailoi  oing 


594 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


his  whistle,  played  "Home,  Sweet.  Home," 
which  had  the  effect  of  sending  the  Irishman 
away  with  a  moist  eye. 

The  following  afternoon  Leake  reached  the 
small  town  the  padre  had  mentioned,  and,  as 
everyone  there  seemed  to  know  Father  Patricio, 
he  soon  found  his  way  to  that  worthy  man's 
door. 

The  good  Father  received  him  with  the 
greatest  kindness,  and,  after  treating  him  to  an 
appetizing  supper,  bade  him  explain  in  what  way 
his  assistance  would  be  useful. 

Leake  at  once  frankly  told  him  his  story.  "  I 
know  you  won't  betray  me,"  he  said,  when  he 
had  concluded  his  narrative.  "  Perhaps  I  am 
doing  wrong  to  go  about  with  the  intention  of 
effecting  my  brother's  escape  if  I  can,  but  it  was 
our  poor  father's  delicate  state  of  health,  and  his 
great  desire  to  see  Will  before  he  dies,  that  put 
the  idea  into  my  head." 

"  Wrong  or  not,  you  are  a  brave  lad,"  said 
Father  Pat,  "  but  I  must  tell  you  that  you  are 
running  great  risk  of  being  thrown  into  prison 
yourself.  The  people  are  naturally  greatly 
incensed  against  the  Americans,  and  some  of 
them  do  not  distinguish  very  closely  between 
an  Englishman  and  an  American." 

"  You  would  advise  me,  then,  to  give  up  my 
purpose  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  that  I  would.  It  is  painful 
to  think  of  an  old  man  wishing  to  see  his 
first-born  before  he  dies,  and  not  being  willing 
to  help  him  if  one  can." 

"  I  would  do  anything  in  reason  to  gratify 
his  last  Wish,"  said  Leake. 

"  And  I  also,"  said  the  padre.  "  Seeing  you 
are  on  your  way  to  Tixtla,  I  will  give  you  a  note 
to  the  keeper  of  a  posada  near  the  prison  there, 
who  will  help  you  all  in  his  power.  It  may 
be  little  or  nothing  he  can  do ;  but  you  may 
depend  on  his  goodwill  and  discretion." 

Two  days  later  Leake  found  himself  at  Tixtla. 
He  put  up  at  the  posada  of  which  the  padre  had 
told  him,  and  when  a  favourable  opportunity 
offered  gave  the  host  the  letter  he  carried. 
When  he  had  read  it  the  innkeeper  said, 
"  Father  Patricio  tells  me  you  are  a  countryman 
of  his,  and  that,  as  you  wish  to  stay  here  a  few 
days,  I  am  to  make  you  as  comfortable  as 
possible  and  ask  you  no  questions."  He 
laughed.  "  Well,  here  is  the  house,"  he  con- 
tinued ;  "  make  yourself  as  comfortable  as  you 
can,  and  tell  me  just  as  much  or  as  little  as  you 
like  concerning  yourself  and  your  business.  I 
shall  desire  no  more." 

Before  delivering  his  letter,  Leake  had 
ordered  some  supper.  The  maid  now  informed 
him  that  it  was  served,  and  he  stepped  on  to 
the  veranda  fronting  the  inn   to   eat  it.      When 


he  had  finished,  he  took  out  a  cigar  and  began 
to  smoke.  Presently  a  dark-complexioned  and 
rather  scowling  man,  with  the  air  of  a  notary, 
took  a  seat  near  him  and  eyed  him  with  any- 
thing but  pleasant  looks. 

Finding  himself  thus  observed  Leake  raised 
his  hat,  bowed  politely  to  the  stranger,  and 
remarked  how  delightful  it  was  to  see  children 
enjoying  themselves  in  the  cool  of  the  evening  ; 
there  being  a  number  of  little  ones  playing  about 
just  in  front  of  them.  The  gentleman  made  a 
civil,  though  by  no  means  cordial,  reply,  and 
Leake  continued,  drawing  forth  his  cherished 
tin  whistle  : — 

"  I  wonder  if  they  would  like  to  hear  a 
stranger  play  an  air  that  the  children  in  his 
country  have  often  danced  to  ?  " 

"  What  country  is  that  ?  "  queried  the  notary, 
suspiciously. 

"  England,"  Leake  replied. 

"  Ah  !  then  you  are  not  an  American  ?  "  said 
the  other,  in  a  relieved  tone.  "  I  must  say  I  at 
first  took  you  for  one  of  the  people  who  are 
warring  against  us,  and  of  whom  we  have  a 
number  locked  up  in  our  prison  here." 

As  he  spoke  the  notary  nodded  his  head 
towards  the  walls  of  the  prison  over  the  way. 

"  No,"  said  Leake.  "  I  own  Queen  Victoria 
for  my  Sovereign,  and  you  shall  hear  the  air  we 
always  play  in  her  honour." 

So  saying,  he  struck  up  the  National  Anthem  ; 
and  when  that  was  finished  he  went  on  to  play 
several  other  airs,  including  one — "  The  Days 
We  Went  a-Gipsying"  -which  was  a  great 
favourite  of  his  brother's,  and  which  he  hoped 
would  be  heard  in  the  prison. 

Next  morning — still  full  of  hope  that  here, 
after  so  many  disappointments,  he  might  at  least 
get  word  of  his  brother — he  again  piped  a  tune 
after  he  had  enjoyed  his  breakfast.  Then  he 
took  a  stroll  round  the  town.  When  he  returned 
he  saw  a  number  of  toy  ships  displayed  at  the 
prison  gate,  and  on  asking  what  they  were  there 
for  was  told  they  were  being  sold  for  the  benefit 
of  the  American  bluejackets  who  had  made 
them,  and  who  were  in  need  of  money. 

"  Poor  fellows  !  "  said  Leake.  "  I  will  help 
them  a  little."  He  selected  one  of  the  tiny 
craft,  paid  the  gatekeeper  the  price,  and  carried 
his  treasure  into  the  posada,  where  it  was 
immediately  handed  over  to  the  host's  little 
girl. 

The  child  had  already  become  greatly 
attached  to  the  cheery  English  sailor,  and 
when  he  was  not  strolling  about  the  town  or  in 
its  environs  he  was  either  playing  with  her  or 
delighting  her  with  the  sweet  music  of  his  tin 
whistle. 

This  life  had  gone  on  for  several  days,  when 


THE    Ql  ES'J     i  >!■     AMBROSE     LEA] 


one  morning,  noticing  some  fresh  sea-crafl 
side  the  prison  gate,  Leake  stepped  ovei  the 
way  to  see  what  they  were  like.  Greal  was  his 
surprise  to  find  among  the  rest  a  trim  barque 
rigged  ship,  evidently  of  British  build,  bearing 
the  name  Old  Ambrose.  Could  this  he  a  mi  re 
coincidence?  Controlling  his  excitement  as 
best  he  could,  he  immediately  purchased  the 
boat  and  carried  it  into  the  posada,  to  examine 
it  at  his  leisure. 

It  was  fixed  in  a  little  cradle  to  keep  it 
upright,  and  when  this  was  removed  Ambrose, 
to  his  intense  delight,  discovered  on  the  stern- 
post  the  words,  "  Made  by  W.  Leake,"  with  the 
date  ! 

"It's  Will— found  at  last!"  exclaimed  the 
overjoyed  wanderer, 
hardly  able  to  restrain 
his  feelings.  Upon 
reflection  he  came  to 
the  conclusion  that 
his  brother  had  recog- 
nised his  playing,  and 
that  this  was  his  way 
of  making  himself 
known.  The  question 
now  was  :  what  should 
be  his  next  step  ?  This 
required  some  delibe- 
ration ;  but  it  did  not 
take  him  long  to  hit 
upon  a  plan. 

During  the  quiet  of 
the  afternoon,  while 
showing  the  barque  to 
the  host  and  explain- 
ing its  various  parts, 
he  contrived  to  let  it 
fall  and  break  its  bow- 
sprit. 

"  There  !  "  he  cried. 
"  My  pretty  little  ship 
has  gone  smash — and 
I  intending  to  take  it 
home  as  a  memento 
of  my  travels  !  Ah, 
well  !  I  must  try  to 
mend  it." 

With  these  words  he 
laid  it  on  one  side,  and 

after  he  had  gone  to  his  room  at  night  he  prised 
up  one  of  the  little  hatches  and,  after  some 
reflection,  carved  on  the  under  side  of  it  the 
letters,  "A.L,  of  Hull,"  and  then  replaced  it. 
He  dared  not  put  more,  lest  the  boat  should 
have  to  pass  through  hostile  hands. 

In  the  morning  he  remarked  casually  to  the 
host,  "  I  wonder,' if  I  sent  my  little  ship  into  the 
prison,  if  the  maker  of  it  could  put  the  bowsprit 


to   right    ?     I    would 
don< 

'•  (  »t    course    he    would, 
"  I'll  ask  tli 

you  lik' 

Leake  gladlj  a<  i  epted  th 
evening    the    barque  was  return*  ■ 

prit.     'flu-  owner  was  d<  ; 
ii  nii"  to  his  room,  saying  it  should  n<  I 
grief  again.     That  night,  his  heart  b 
with   anxiety,    he  once  more  lifl 
1 1. nl  his  brother  noticed  his  initials?     \ 
had  : 

Pinned  to  the  wood  was  a  little  m 
but  satisfactory.     "  If  a  man  i 
you  and  offers  you  his  mug  to  drink,  trust  him." 

The  followii 
ing,  a-    I  '.    in 

front  of  the  pi  i 
Usual,  a  man  did  < 
and  ^it  near  him,  and 
after  a  while   spok 
him  and   then 
him     his    tankard 
drink     from.        I 
drank    with    him.    and 
then    remarked,    i 
lessly  :     "  Th<  • 
some  Ami  ri<  ans  in  the 
prison  the: 

"  Yes,"  the 
turned.      "There  is 
also  an  Englishman." 

I. eake  nodded.  The 
stranger  continued  in 
a  lo 

I  have  gone,  wall 
the  right   a  the 

outskirts  of  the  town  ; 
then  wait  at  the  foun- 
tain till  I  i 

Ambrose   d i < 
directed,  and  » 
sently  in   COn> 
with    the    '  for 

h     he 
th. 
ups 

w as    to    I 
that     I 
and    a    young     Irishman     nam- d     Bl 

rill  togeth 
whereby  they  i  ould  gi  I   out  of  tl 

3  to  know   what    I 
Brown    had    been    making 
Mexican    woman  1 

visited  the  prison  i  id  from  tin 

brought  the  imprisom  d  bl 
This  girl,  d  with  thi 


DISCOVERED  UN     1111.   STERN-POST   THE   W 


59<$ 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


man,  had  not  only  arranged  the  plan  of  escape, 
but  had  secured  a  hiding  place  for  "him.  For 
his  companion,  however,  she  could  not  or  would 
not  do  anything.     There  was  the  difficulty. 

The  plan  was  this.  An  old  woman  and  her 
son,  who  supplied 
the  market  with 
fruit  and  vege- 
tables from  their 
farm,  situated  a 
few  miles  from 
Tixtla,  were  in  the 
habit  of  calling 
twice  or  thrice  a 
week  at  the  prison. 
They  carried  their 
produce  in  a  light 
country  cart  drawn 
by  mules,  and  it 
was  arranged  that 
after  the  stuff  for 
the  prison  had 
been  removed  the 
two  prisoners 
should  secrete 
themselves  among 
the  remaining 
vegetables,  sacks, 
etc.,  and  so  elude 
the  vigilance  of  the 
guard. 

The  success  of 
the  plan  depended 
largely  upon  the 
early  hour  at  which 

the  cart  usually  entered  the  prison  yard,  which 
was  when  most  people  were  still  abed  or  else 
busy  with  their  early  meal.  The  warder  himself 
thought  it  would  succeed. 

"  But,"  said  he,  "  what  are  we  to  do  with  the 
Englishman  when  he  is  free  ?  Outside  the 
town  Leandra  is  to  meet  and  carry  off  her  lover 
to  a  place  of  safety  ;  but  there  is  no  such  place 
for  the  other  to  go  to." 

"  I  think  I  can  make  that  all  right,"  said 
Ambrose,  thinking  of  his  friend  Father  Patricio. 
"  Tell  them  to  lay  their  plan  and  let  me  know 
all  about  it.  I  shall  be  ready  to  help  in  a 
couple  of  days." 

It  was  accordingly  arranged  that  the  two 
should  meet  again  at  the  same  spot  three  nights 
later. 

In  the  meantime  Leake  paid  a  visit  to  his 
friend,  the  padre,  and  asked  his  advice  and 
assistance.  After  he  had  heard  all  about  the 
plan  of  escape,  Father  Patricio  exclaimed, 
"  Ah,  that  little  vixen,  Leandra  !  I  know  all 
about  her  hiding  -  place  for  her  lover.  She 
has   a    brother    who    is    in    league    with    the 


banditti    of    the 

who  is  not  above  takin 


neighbouring 


mountains,   and 

D  a  hand  with  them  when 

occasion  serves.     This  young  Irishman  will   be 


placed  in  their  safe  keepim 
the  time  being, 


enough  for 


HE   OFFERED   HIM    HIS    TANKARD   TO    DRINK    FROM. 


He  will  be  secure 
but  I  pity  him  all 
the  same.  Rather 
than  your  brother 
should  fall  into 
the  same  un- 
scrupulous hands 
I  will  secrete  him 
under  my  o w n 
roof.  Therefore, 
Ambrose,  my  boy, 
arrange  for  him  to 
come  here ;  but 
see  that  he  comes 
secretly  and  after 
nightfall." 

In  further  con- 
versation —  Leake 
staying  that  night 
under  the  padre's 
hospitable  roof — 
Father  Patricio 
drew  up  a  plan  of 
the  way  the  fugi- 
tive was  to  take 
to  get  to  his  place, 
and  finished  by 
cautioning  Leake 
not  to  appear  in 
the  affair.  "  Re- 
main quietly  at 
your  inn  till  all  is 
over,"  said  he.  "If  you  go  away  you  will  he 
suspected  at  once,  and  everybody  who  has  been 
seen  talking  with  you  will  be  watched.  There- 
fore, employ  yourself  as  usual,  play  on  your 
whistle,  and  amuse  the  children.  Then,  when 
things  have  quieted  down  a  little,  you  can 
come  here  and  we  will  see  what  can  be  done. 
Your  brother  will  have  to'  remain  here  until 
everything  is  quiet." 

These  arrangements  were  duly  made  known 
to  the  warder  and  by  him  communicated  to  the 
prisoners.  They,  with  Leandra's  assistance  and 
the  connivance  of  the  warder,  carried  out  their 
plot  so  well  that  a  week  later  they  successfully 
eluded  the  vigilance  of  their  guards  and  got 
clean  away  from  the  prison  before  their  flight 
was  discovered.  Then,  of  course,  the  country 
was  scoured  for  them  in  all  directions,  and 
William  Leake,  lying  hidden  in  a  wood,  came 
very  near  being  taken.  The  searcher  approached 
so  close  to  him  that  he  could  almost  feel  his 
breath.  He  was,  of  course,  greatly  scared,  and 
for  two  whole  days  lay  in  the  wood  not  daring 
to   move.     Only  on  the   morning   of  the  third 


THK    QUES1     ol     AMBROSE    LEA) 


WILLIAM    LEAKE,    LYING    1IIDDKN    IN    A    WOOD,    CAME    VEKV    NEAR    LLIN«.    TAK 


day,  just  before  sunrise,  did  he  venture  to 
sound  the  signal  agreed  upon  at  Father 
Patricio's  door.  He  was  then  so  weak  with 
hunger  and  fatigue  as  to  be  hardly  able  to 
stand. 

His  companion  Brown  had  in  the  meantime 
run  no  such  risk.  A  little  outside  the  town  his 
sweetheart  Leandra  met  him,  and  conducted 
him  to  a  little  hut  some  distance  up  the  moun- 
tain side,  where  they  were  presently  joined  by 
her  brother  and  several  "  free-livers,"  as  they 
were  called— otherwise  banditti— and  by  them 
taken  to  a  remote  mountain  village. 

That  same  night  a  daring  robbery  was  com- 
mitted on  a  party  of  travellers,  and  next  day  the 
bandit  stronghold  was  in  a  state  of  high  festivity. 
Two  days  later  Leandra  and  her  Irish  lover  were 
married,  and  the  dancing  and  wild  revelry  in 
celebration  of  the  event  were  carried  on  far  into 
the  night.  Never  probably  had  there  been  such 
a  gay  time  in  that  remote  village.  Just  before 
morning,  however,  the  officers  of  the  law  fell 
upon  the  revellers,  took  half-a  dozen  of  the  men 
captive,  including  the  newly-married  Irishman, 
and  sent  the  others  scurrying  in  every  direction 
for  safety.  A  dozen  or  more  made  good  their 
escape,  while  one  brigand,  in  trying  to  get  away, 
fell  over  a  rocky   ledge  and   was   killed.     This 


man,  fortunately  for  Leake,  was  repi 

the  other  bluejacket    who    had    broken   oul 

prison. 

The  error  served  Leake  well,  for  it  pul 
to  all  pursuit  for  the  time  beil 

Meanwhile  the  tin-whistle  player  had 
quietly  at  the  posada  outside  the  pris 
ing  his  time  as  usual.     Apparently  n 
pected    the   part   he  had   taken  in  th< 
the  prisoners.      I  or  some  days   he  v. 
as  to  how  his  brother  ha  i  got  on  ;   hut  a: 
received     news  —  in    a    way    which     'had     i 
arranged-  -  that  he  was  all  right,  th 
impatient  to  be  on  the  road  to  .V  apu 

Finally  it  was  decided  that  they  shou 
the  attempt,  the  idea  b 
rest  during  the  daw      Everything 
a  start  when,  unfortunately  for  th< 
number  of  the  American  ; 
encouraged  by  th.'  apparenl  - 
comrades,  mad  sh  for  li 

away,    put    the  wh 
thi  ii'  rei  apl 

This  in<  idenl   i 
of    plan.        At! 
Aminos.  . 

\ 
ments    for    the 


59§ 


THE    WIDE    WORLD     MAGAZINE. 


followed  with  a  mule  train,  disguised  as  a  deaf 
and  dumb  monk,  and  arrived  a  few  days  later. 

All  had  gone  excellently  well  thus  far,  even  to 
the  extent  of  finding  a  British  ship  which  had  a 
berth  waiting  for  both  of  them.  But,  unfor- 
tunately, at  the  last  moment  the  discretion  which 
had  served  them  so  well  all  through  seemed  to 
dry  up. 

When  on  their  way  to  the  boat  which  was  to 
put  them  on  board  the  Maid  of  Perth,  they  for- 
got themselves  and 
began  to  talk.  It 
was  dark,  and  they 
probably  thought 
no  one  would 
hear.  But  it  hap- 
pened that  a  man 
who  had  travelled 
with  the  supposed 
deaf  and  dumb 
monk,  and  knew 
him  again,  was 
struck  by  the 
curious  circum- 
stance that  he  had 
suddenly  found  his 
tongue,  and  spoke 
like  the  Americans. 

Instantly  he 
raised  an  alarm. 
The  brothers,  see- 
ing that  they  had 
betrayed  them- 
selves, made  a 
dash  for  the  boat 
which  was  waiting 
to  take  them  off 
to  the  ship,  now 
lying  in  the  offing. 
William,  the  elder, 
w  ho  was  the 
nimbler  of  the 
two,  reached  the 
boat  first,  and, 
thinking  his 
brother  was  at  his 
heels,  got  in.   Just 

as  he  did  so,  however,  he  heard  Ambrose  cry 
out,  and,  turning  round,  saw  him  knocked  down 
by  a  couple  of  men. 

Instantly  he  seized  a  marline-spike  that  was 
lying  in  the  boat,  and  ran  back  to  the  rescue. 
Felling  the  two  Mexicans  with  a  blow  each,  he 
lifted  his  brother  up  and  ran  with  him  to  the 
water-side.  Here  the  men  in  charge  of  the 
ship's  boat  helped  them  in  and  at  once  pushed 
off. 

Barely  had  they  got  two   lengths    away  ere 


an  excited  crowd  collected  on  the  beach, 
shouting  threats  at  them  and  throwing  stones. 
Several  even  attempted  to  swim  after  them,  but 
soon  returned  to  the  shore.  Two  or  three 
boats,  however,  were  quickly  manned,  and 
a  spirited  pursuit  ensued.  But  the  rowers, 
although  they  seemed  to  be  gaining  for  a  time, 
did  not  prove  to  possess  the  staying  powers  of 
the  British  tars,  and  were  soon  outdistanced. 
All   danger,    however,   was    not   yet  over,  for 

before  the  Maid 
of  Perth  had  got 
well  under  way 
a  Mexican  sloop- 
of  -  war  was  seen 
to  be  making 
ready  to  give 
chase.  Matters 
for  a  while  looked 
serious,  and  the 
skipper  appeared 
to  be  wavering 
between  two 
minds.  Then  a 
sudden  wind  took 
hold  of  the  sails 
and  gave  the  ship 
a  lift  that  seemed 
like  a  toss  of 
defiance. 

"Shall  we  put 
on  more  canvas, 
sir  ?  She'll  bear 
it,"  said  the  first 
mate. 

"Aye,  put  it 
on,  Mr.  Barton, 
and  be  hanged 
to  them  !  "  cried 
the  skipper,  sud- 
denly making 
up  his  mind. 
•  "  They  won't  over- 
haul us  on  this 
wind." 

"  They  dare  not 
try,  with  so  many 
Yankee  men-of-war  about,"  replied  the  mate. 

Nevertheless,  the  sloop  made  it  rather  warm 
for  them  for  half  an  hour,  sending  shot  after 
shot  whizzing  after  the  Maid  of  Perth,  but,  as 
good  luck  would  have  it,  without  hitting  her. 

This  proved  the  last  danger  the  brothers, 
thus  strangely  re-united,  had  to  undergo.  After 
a  quick  passage  they  reached  home,  to  find  their 
father  still  in  the  land  of  the  living,  and  over- 
joyed, needless  to  say,  to  see  them  both  safe 
and  sound. 


Entrapped  by  an   Avalanche. 

P>\     THE    VlS<  0UN1     Dl     SoiSSi 

An  account  of  the  extraordinary  adventure  which  befell  Mr.  Waclaw  Sicroszcwski. 
Polish    scientist,  in   the    mountains   of  the  Caucasus.     With    a    companion    he    was  eir 
precipitous  defile  by  an  avalanche  of  rock,  while  inch  by  inch  death     in  the  shape  of  a  dan 
river  —  crept    nearer    and    nearer    to    them.       The    days    and    nights    of    horror    that    ens  . 

graphically  described. 


ACLAW  SICROSZEWSKI,  whose 
extraordinary  adventure  in  the 
mountains  of  the  Caucasus  forms 
the  subject  of  this  narrative,  is  a 
distinguished  Polish  scientist.  Some 
time  ago  he  wrote  a  unique  ethnological  work, 
for  which  he  was  awarded  the  gold  medal  of  the 
Imperial  Geographical  Society  of  St.  Petersburg. 
The  same  institution  afterwards  supplied  him 
with  the  necessary  funds  and  sent  him  to  the 
Caucasus  to  explore  the  summit  of  the  in- 
accessible Mount  Rishtan,  which  had  not 
hitherto  been  scaled. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  summer  of  1898 
Sicroszewski  reached  the  valley  of  the  Auchi 
River,  one  of  the  most  beautiful  gorges  on  the 
south-east    slopes   of  the  Caucasus.     Here   he 


Simon-    stalwart    mountaineers    both 
daughter.      Having    thoroughly 
zewski  hired  a  Circassian  guide  named  Selim. 
Then,  with  two  small  but  intelligent  mountain 
ponies  to  carry  the  trted  off  on  his 

perilous  journey,    from    which    he   expected    t<> 
return     with     rich      botanical     ami 
discoveries. 

During  the  first  three  days  everything 
to  the  explorer's  entire  satisfaction.  Guided  by 
Selim,  who  knew  the  mountains  like  a  book, 
reached-  the  valley  through  which  the  River 
Urush  runs.  Here  they  were  suddenly  startled 
by  ominous  rumblings,  and  the  earth  began  t" 
tremble    beneath     their     1  Then,     with     a 

thunderous  roar,   the   whole   side  <>!   a   mountain 
gave  way,  and  rushed  downwards  with  irresistible 


MOUNT    KISHTAN  —  IT    WAS 

From  a] 


SET   OUT  I  IN    his    DISA! 


i  THIS 

rROl  S   EXPEDI1 


stopped  to  make  his  preparations  for  climbing 
the  snowy  summit  of  Rishtan,  which  domin 
the  dark  mass  of  towering  mountains. 

During  his  brief  stay  he  made  the  acquaint- 
ance of  a  Polish  family  named  Strasicwich, 
composed  of  a  widow,  her  two  sons,  Junk  and 


force,    choking  up  th 
pletely  damming  up  th 
rjrush.      rh    ■ 
road    known    to    tl 
obliterated  !     Hi 
ocks  -hut  the  '. 


6oo 


THE    WIDE    WORLD     MAGAZINE. 


From  a] 


THE    RIVER   URUSH. 


{Photo. 


other  masses  continued  to  fall  at  irregular 
intervals. 

Very  soon  the  water,  dammed  by  the  rock 
avalanche,  began  to  rise,  and  the  two  travellers 
were  forced  to  mount  higher  and  yet  higher, 
scrambling  from  rock  to  rock.  By  this  time  it 
was  quite  dark,  and  the  scientist  and  his  faithful 
guide  could  not  see  one  another.  They  there- 
fore stopped  where  they  were  until  the  morning, 
listening  gloomily  to  the  ominous  rumblings  of 
the  falling  rocks  and  the  noise  of  the  agitated 
waters.  Ever  and  again,  too,  a  quivering  of 
the  ground  beneath  them  showed  that  the 
earthquake  was  not  yet  over.  They  did  not 
fully  realize  what  had  happened,  however,  till 
the  morning,  when,  instead  of  a  green  valley 
with  a  broad  river  running  swiftly  through  it, 
they  beheld  nothing  but  an  enormously  long 
lake  of  discoloured  water,  filling  up  the  whole 
of  the  rocky  defile. 

Apparently  the  surface  of  the  lake  was  quiet, 
but  a  close  scrutiny  revealed  a  continual  swirl- 


ing, produced  by  some  unseen 
current,  and  every  moment  the 
water  rose  higher,  submerging  the 
valley  more  and  more.  It  soon 
became  necessary  for  the  two  tra- 
vellers to  retreat  fnmi  their  resting- 
place,  and  in  accordance  with  the 
guide's  advice  they  retired  upwards, 
towards  Rishtan.  Before  leaving 
the  place  they  searched  carefully 
along  the  margin  of  the  lake,  hoping 
against  hope  that  the  water  might 
have  thrown  up  some  of  the  things 
they  had  been  compelled  to  aban- 
don in  their  headlong  flight.  It 
was  all  in  vain,  however  — every- 
thing had  disappeared.  The  sum 
total  of  their  possessions,  besides 
the  clothes  they  stood  in,  consisted 
of  a  rifle,  a  bag  of  cartridges,  which 
Selim  had  on  him,  a  dagger,  and 
a  box  of  matches,  with  a  few  other 
small  things. 

Following  a  ridge  of  rock  which 
still  remained  unsubmerged,  th*  pair 
presently  reached  a  small  meadow. 
Here  they  discerned  several  ante- 
lopes, of  which  two  fell  by  Selim's 
gun.  This  was  a  stroke  of  luck, 
and  soon  the  two  men  were  busy 
cutting  up  the  game  and  smoking 
the  meat.  During  the  day  the 
rocks  stopped  falling,  but  towards 
morning    the    encroaching    waters 


MB.    WAC1.AW   SICROSZEVVSKI,    WHOSE   EXTRAORDI- 
NARY   ADVENTURE   IS    HERE   RELATED. 

From  a  Photo. 


ENTRAPPED    BY    AN    AVALANCHE. 


reached  their  camping-place,  and 

they  were  compelled  once  more 
to  retire.  The  rocks  now  became 
more  and  more  difficult  to  scale, 
and  in  places  it  was  impossible 
to  climb.  Time  and  again  they 
were  obliged  to  wade  through  the 
ice-cold  water,  and  in  some  places 
to  swim,  while  every  moment  the 
dangers  of  their  situation  in- 
creased. Nevertheless  the  two 
men  did  not  lose  heart,  though 
their  position  seemed  hopeless — 
immured  in  a  rocky  cul-de-sac  with 
unclimbable  sides,  and  with  a 
dammed -up  river  drawing  closer 
and  closer  to  them  every  instant  ! 

Presently  Sicroszewski  and  his 
companion  found  themselves  con- 
fronted by  a  sheer  precipice.  It 
would  have  been  utter  madness 
to  attempt  to  climb  it.  Yet  some- 
thing must  be  done;  they  could 
not  stay  where  they  were. 

Finally  they  decided  to  try  the 
other  side  of  the  lake.  Accord- 
ingly they  fastened  the  food  and 
the  other  things  on  their  heads, 
and  then,  trembling  from  cold 
and  fatigue,  they  waded  into  the 
icy  water  and  struck  out.  Heavily 
laden  as  they  were  the  journey 
was  a  terribly  trying  one ;  but 
ultimately,  all  but  exhausted,  they 
reached  the  opposite  shore.  A 
few  minutes  showed  them  that  the 
situation  here  was  no  better,  and 
with  sinking  hearts  they  were  at 
last  obliged  to  mount  an  isolated 
rock,  like  the  tower  of  a  cathedral,  which  rose 
up  to  a  great  height. 

The  pair  had  got  half-way  up  when  the 
naturalist  lost  his  hold  on  a  treacherous  corner 
and,  with  a  cry  of  dismay,  fell  downwards. 
Selim  heard  the  cry  and  then  a  dull  splash  far 
below,  but  he  did  not  dare  look  down.  He 
simply  started  to  retrace  his  steps.  When  he 
reached  the  bottom  he  found  his  master  sitting 
panting  on  the  shore,  pale  and  wet  through,  but 
uninjured.  He  had  fallen  into  deep  water, 
which  had  saved  his  life. 

Neither  of  the  men  felt  like  essaying  the  climb 
again,  so  they  chose  another  rock  on  which  to 
make  their  final  stand.  While  the  resourceful 
guide  busied  himself  with  collecting  pieces  of 
floating  wood  for  a  fire,  the  naturalist  made 
marks  on  the  rocks  to  find  out  how  quickly  the 
water  was  rising.  Anxiously  he  made  his 
observations,  and  finally  came  to  the  conclusion 

Vol.  xiv. — 76. 


THE    NATURALIST,    WITH    A    CRV   OF    DISMAY 


that,  even  if  the  flood  maintained 
of  increase,  it   would   not   reach  then 
five  days.     In  that  period  much  might   I 
and   the  meat  they   had   with   th 
that  time  with  care. 

With  the  setting  of  the  sun  the < 
and  the  two  men  crouched  nearer  tl 
had    kindled     on     the     roi 
naturalist  looked  at  his  guide. 

'•Selim."  he 
have  a  wife  an>  !  children.      1: 

thei  iy  cham 

I   shall  only  hind.  : 
sir  :  "  • 

n   more   than   a    m: 
friend.      I 
I  h 

it.     I'   1   ' 


60  2 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


slightest  chance  of  our  finding  a  way  through 
1  would  have  told  you  so,  and  we  "would  not 
have  been  waiting  here  hoping  to  be  rescued  by 
Jurek.  He  is  the  only  hope  we  have.  If  he 
cannot  reach  us  we  must  perish  here.  Allah's 
will  be  done  !  " 

Utterly  tired  out  by  their  exertions,  the  two 
men  lay  down  and  slept  till  morning.  When 
they  awoke  the  rocks  and  water  seemed  in  the 
same  condition,  but  the  marks  proved  that  the 
flood  had  drawn  nearer  to  their  retreat.  Dark, 
angry-looking  clouds  drifted  over  the  mountains 
around,  and  soon  it  began  to  rain,  while  in  the 
far  distance  the  rumbling  of  thunder  was  heard 
among  the  peaks.  At  last  the  flood-gates  of 
Heaven  seemed  to 
open,  and  torrents 
of  rain  poured 
down.  Half- 
drowned  by  the 
pitiless  deluge,  the 
two  unfortunates 
were  obliged  to 
change  their  posi- 
tion t  o  a  more 
sheltered  spot, 
taking  the  fire  with 
them. 

So  that  wretched 
day  passed,  rain 
beating  steadily  on 
the  rocks  and  lash- 
ing the  face  of  the 
ever-rising 


lake. 
As    night    a  p 
proached,  however, 
it  ceased. 

Early  next  morn- 
ing the  naturalist 
went  out  to  exa- 
mine his  marks, 
dreading  what  he 
knew  he  would 
find.  When 
he  examined 
them,  however,  he 
could  not  refrain 
alarm.      The    rain 


rocks 
make 
tower, 
soon 


HE   AND   SELIM    WORKED    LIKE   SLAVES,    PILING    UP    ROCKS. 


from  an  exclamation  of 
had  swollen  the  lake  to  a 
tremendous  extent  and  shortened  the  existence 
of  their  retreat  by  one  whole  day  !  Hopelessly 
he  returned  to  his  guide,  who  was  crouching 
over  the  fire,  and  communicated  to  him  the 
unwelcome  intelligence.  "  If  our  friends  do 
not  reach  us  soon,"  he  said,  "  we  shall  be 
drowned  like  rats  in  a  trap  ! " 

The  storm  had  not  permitted  them  to  gather 
more  wood,  therefore  their  fire  was  very 
small,  and  they  were  compelled  to  keep  it  going 
with    leaves.       In    spite    of    hunger — for    their 


daily  ration  of  smoked  antelope  was  meagre 
— and  the  desperate  nature  of  their  position, 
neither  of  the  men  lost  heart. 

They  slept  close  together  that  night  for 
warmth,  and  did  not  wake  in  the  morning  till 
the  warm  rays  of  the  sun  began  to  put  new  life 
into  their  numbed  limbs.  As  they  looked 
around  both  men  gave  vent  to  a  cry  of  dismay. 
The  water  was  almost  touching  their  feet  ! 
They  were  now  at  the  summit  of  the  pile  of 
rocks  they  had  selected  for  their  last  stand,  and 
all  around  the  walls  of  the  defile  were  unscal- 
able.    What  was  to  be  done  ? 

"  We  must  build  a  platform  for  our  things," 
said    the    naturalist    at    last,  as    cheerily   as    he 

could,   and  the 
words     gave     him 
an    idea.      All 
day    long    he    and 
Selim  worked  like 
slaves,     piling     up 
so    as    to 
a    kind     of 
They  were 
covered 
with  mud,  bruised, 
and  wet   through  ; 
but    as    the    rocky 
erection   rose  they 
grew   more   and 
more    cheerful. 
Every     foot     they 
could     gain      pro- 
longed     their 
existence.       When 
they    had  used 
up   all    the    avail- 
able  boulders   the 
two     m e  n     r e  - 
treated    to    the 
top  of  their  tower, 
taking    up    the 
dagger,    rifle,  cart- 
ridges,  and    the 
remainder    of    the 
food. 
The  water,  however,  still   rose  continually — 
silent   and   relentless   as   Fate.     Little   by  little 
their  former  camping-place  was  covered  and  the 
flood  lapped  round  the  base  of  the  tower.    They 
passed  the  following  night  in  horrible  suffering, 
trembling     with     cold,     which     precluded     all 
thoughts    of    sleep.      Hour   after    hour   passed, 
the  silence  of  the  pitch-black  night  being  broken 
only  by  the  monotonous  splashings  of  the  waves. 
Would    help    never   come?       Or   would   the 
lapping  waters  creep  nearer  and  nearer  till  they 
swept    over    the    tower,     bringing    with    them 
oblivion  ? 


ENTRAPPED    B\     AN     A\  AI.A.V  111.. 


Neither   man    spoke,    but    their    brains   w 
busy,     and     they    breathed    silent     prayers    for 
succour. 

At  last  morning  came,  grey  and  (heirless, 
with  the  pitiless  flood  swishing  about  among  the 
very  stones  on  which  they  crouched.  Oh,  for  a 
fire,  to  put  some  warmth  into  their  frozen  limbs, 
clad  in  sodden  garments  !  Shaking  off  his 
torpor  with  difficulty.  Sicroszewski  climbed  up 
higher,  where  there  were  a  few  inches  of  dry 
space.  Here  he  stood  erect,  trembling  with 
weakness  and  cold,  and  looked  out  over  the 
immense  stretch  of  blue  water,  backed  by  the 
frowning  crags.  Nothing  else  was  in  sight, 
nothing  but  a  bird  soaring  far  above,  perchance 
watching  them  and  wondering  how  long  it 
would  be  ere  the  waters  overwhelmed  them.  A 
few  mouthfuls  of  the  meat  warmed  him  a  little 
and  gave  him  courage.     Telling  the  apathetic 


rifle,  Selim  I 

reply,  and  ere  li  rig,  to  their  ii  a   little 

party,  h<  adi  d  by  th  nd  Jurek,  app< 

the  i  In: 

They    had    sui  1 1 i  ded    in    finding .  •    in- 

credible efforts,  the  dangi 
mountain   glaciers,  and   \\ 
cover  that  the  two  missing  men  wen     till  .  I 
though  in    such  imminent    peril.     Aft<  i 
difficulty  they  found  a  way  down  the  rocl 
set   to   work   at  once  to  build  a  rati  with  such 
bouirhs  and   small  trees  as    they  were  abl< 
collect.     Quickly     they     lash'  d      the     tm;; 
together,  using  odds  and  ends  of  cord,  and  • 
portions  of  their  clothes,  and  then  floated  it  on 
the    lake.     Directly  they    had    ascertained    its 
bearing  power,   a   stalwart    mountaineer  spi 
upon  it  and,  using  a  branch  as  a  padi 
the  clumsy  craft  across  the  river  to  thi 


A   STALWART    MOUNTAINEER,    USING   A    BRANCH    AS    A    PADDLE,    GUIDED     III!     I   I  I   MSV    CRAFT    ACROi 


guide  to  stand  up  beside  him  instead  of  sitting 
half  in  the  water,  the  naturalist  began  to  look 
around  him,  casting  his  eyes  towards  Rishtan, 
towering  in  the  distance,  as  if  he  expected 
help  from  the  giant  mountain. 

After  a  few  minutes  his  gaze  became  fixed, 
and  a  new  light  sprang  into  his  eyes. 

"They  are  coming  !  "  he  shouted,  shaking  his 
companion  by  the  shoulder.  "Do  you  hear 
them  ?  Listen  !  "  With  straining  ears  the  two 
men  listened,  and  soon  reports,  as  of  guns  fired 
in  rapid  succession,  reached  them.     Seizing  the 


now  completely  submerged,  and  so  snatched  its 
two  occupants  from  the  very  jaws  of  death. 

Weak     from     exposure     and     lack     ol 
Sicroszewski  and  Selim   wen 
rough    track    through    th. 
i.  ached  the  lowlands   in   sat 
indomitable  pluck  of  Jurek  and  his  comi, 
but  it  will  be  man\  a  lonj 
forgets  th"-'  days  and   i 
he' was   entrapped    in    th 
valley,  while  inch   by  in< 
to  him. 


<?0 


A  deeply-interesting  and  authori- 
tative article,  written  by  a  well- 
known  Italian  author.  Signor 
Simboli  sets  forth  the  adventures 
of  some  of  the  most  famous 
brigands  of  Sardinia,  and  in- 
cidentally shows  what  a  large 
share  the  cult  of  the  vendetta 
has  in  driving  the  hct-blooded 
Sardes  into  outlawry. 


NE  November  evening  in  the 
year  1895,  Signor  Enrico  Costa, 
a  distinguished  Italian  writer, 
was  entering  his  study  at 
Sassari,  in  Sardinia,  when  he 
suddenly  noticed  that  a  fine-looking,  elderly 
man  was  awaiting  him  there. 

"What  do  you  want?"  was  his  somewhat 
startled  question. 

"  Is  it  true  that  you  have  written  the  history 
of  Giovanni  Tolii,  the  bandit  ?  "  demanded  the 
stranger.     "  I  should  like  to  read  it." 

"  I  have  never  written  about  living  bandits," 
answered  the  astonished  author. 

"  Well,  if  you  haven't,  you  can  do  it  now," 
continued  the  old  man  ;  "  for  I  am  going  to  tell 
it  you.     I  am  Giovanni  Tolii  in  person  !  " 

Costa  was  quite  taken  aback  at  this  remark- 
able  introduction,    but  with- 
out heeding  his  surprise  the 
stranger  went  on  : 
want  either   blame 
that     isn't    my    due.       I    am 
going   to  tell   you    the  truth 
about    my    life,   and    nothing 
but  the  truth." 

And  for  two  whole  months 
the  old  fellow  actually  had 
the  patience  to  visit  Costa's 
study,  and  seated  there 
beside  the  hearth,  whilst 
filling  and  smoking  his  pipe, 
he  told  his  adventures  with 
a  scrupulous  attention  to 
detail,  dates,  conversations, 
small  episodes,  localities  and 
all,  while  the  writer  made 
his  notes. 

Who  was  Giovanni  Tolii  ? 
the    reader    will    ask.        He 


Raffaele  Simboli. 


was   originally    a 
a  little  place  not 


"I  don't 
or   credit 


direct 
exer- 
spite 


GIOVANNI   TOLL),    A    FAMOUS   BRIGAND 
SARDINIA. 


From  a] 


poor  peasant  of  Elorinas, 
far  from  Sassari,  who  worked 
hard  from  his  childhood  up,  acted  as  sexton 
for  a  time,  and  then  as  a  carrier.  When 
twenty-five  years  old  he  would  have  married 
Maria  Francesca,  the  priest's  maid,  but  for  the 
priest,  Pittui,  a  fierce  man  and  a  bully,  who 
would  not  hear  of  it.  Tolu's  life  seems  to  have 
been  embittered  from  that  moment.  Intelligent 
and  with  plenty  of  good  sense,  he  was  weak 
enough  to  harbour  superstitious  ideas,  and  to 
imagine  that  his  m  i  s  - 
fortunes  were  the 
result  of  magic  arts 
cised  by  Pittui.  In 
of  the  priest,  however,  he 
married  the  girl  and  went 
back  to  his  work,  but  his 
spouse  proved  light  -  headed 
and  a  chatterbox,  and  he 
had  to  complain  of  her 
conduct  more  than  once. 
One  day  the  pair  had  a 
quarrel,  and  Tolu  so  far 
forgot  himself  as  to  give 
his  wife  a  blow.  A  crowd 
promptly  gathered  round 
him,  the  priest  prominent 
among  them,  calling  him 
such  names  as  "Coward!" 
and  "Scoundrel  !  " 

Tolu    swore    he    would 
be     revenged.       He     lay    in 


\rhoio. 


THE     BRIGANDS    OF    SARDINIA. 


wait   for    his   enemy   the    priest,  and   encoun 

tered  him  on  the  27th  of  December,  1850. 
Noiselessly  he  followed  him  for  a  few  pa< 
then  held  a  pistol  to  the  back  of  his  neck  and 
drew  the  trigger,  but  without  result.  He  tried 
again  three  times,  a  wild  wind  covering  the 
noise ;  then  he  flung  the  weapon  away  and 
sprang  at  the  priest  like  a  tiger,  dragged  him  to 
the  ground,  and  rained  blow  after  blow  upon 
him.  Finally  he  left  him  lying  half-dead  on  the 
road.  Then,  running  to  his  house,  Tolii  caught 
up  his  gun,  got  astride  his  horse,  and  fled  head- 
long down  a  rocky  path.  He  had  taken  the 
first  step  in  his  career  of  outlawry. 

At  first  the  country  frightened  him.  Accus- 
tomed to  an  active  life,  he  says  in  his  memoirs  : 
"The  aimless  wandering  about  made  me  restless 
and  bad-tempered ;  the  nights  especially  were 
interminable.  When  I  came  across  men  at 
their  work,  I  felt  myself  to  be  an  idler  and 
blushed  for  shame.  My  poor  mother  brought 
me  a  little  food  from  time  to  time ;  indeed, 
she  would  walk  two  or  three  hours  in  order  to 
bring  me  new  bread  and  fresh  linen.  Her  grief 
stabbed  me  to  the  heart.  To  pass  the  time  I 
procured  a  spelling-book,  and,  with  a  bandit's 
patient  perseverance,  spent  whole  hours  in  tell- 
ing the  syllables.  The  parish  missal  had  been 
of  good  service  to  me  in  learning  the  capital 
letters,  but  the  small  ones  drove  me  crazy.  I 
used  to  spell  out  loud,  to  the  astonishment  of 
my  dog,  whose 
intelligent  eyes 
would  almost  fall 
out  of  his  head 
with  surprise. 
This  fierce  dog 
was  a  faithful 
comrade  to  me. 
One  word  to  him 
was  enough  :  he 
would  have  torn 
to  pieces  four  of 
my  enemies. 
While  I  slept  he 
lay  beside  me 
with  his  head  on 
my  thigh,  and 
would  wake  me 
at  the  slightest 
alarm  with  long- 
drawn  sighs, 
without  barking." 
T  o  1  u  thus 
began  life  as  a 
bandit,  a  life 
which,  with  all 
those  of  his  kind, 
has    three    great 


aims-    to  rev<  ng  If  on 

tpe  ill.-  Royal  <  punish  t 

bearers  without 

destined  for  the  hin  d  •  Pittui. 

This  man,  after  having  apparent!) 
from  his  wounds,  fell  ill  with  high  !< 
reported   to    have    repeated     l  threats  in 

sudden  accesses  of  delirium,  and 
ally  died  with  the  bandit's  name  on  his  li 

Alter  the  death  of  his  implacabli 
appears  to  have  grown  more  tranquil,  his  only 
cause  for  anxiety  being  a  certain    I' 
man,  however,  after   a   desperate 
killed    in   a   hand-to-hand    fight     Shortly  after 
this    the    authorities     began    to    devote    tl 
attention   to  his  capture. 

One  day  Tolii  happened  to  be  visiting  a  small 
hut  occupied  by  a  man  and  his  young  daugl 
when  suddenly  the  dogs  began  to  bark.      I 
ing  out,  Tolii  saw  to  his  dismay  that  a  part. 
mounted  carabineers   had  surrounded   the   hut. 
It  was  a  critical  moment.     The  brigand  had  just 
time  to  fasten  one  pistol  to  his  right  wrist  and 
one  to  his  left  with  bits  of  string,  load  his  rifle, 
and  hide  at  the  back  of  the  hut  when  t 
opened.     The  girl  screamed,  and  Tolii  caught  a 
glimpse  of  plunging  horses  through  the  doorway. 
"Is  there  anyone   in    the   hut?"   asked   the 
officer    in    charge    of    the    carabine'  the 

peasant  and  his  daughter  hastened  out. 
"  No  !  "  they  replied. 

One  of  the    carabineers,    hi 
alighted  and  walked  in  to  investigate. 
suddenlv,  Tolii  sent  him 
d    then  fired    his    rifle 
ht  and  left.    ( )ne  man 
and    the   s u rpr i 
ed  comph  te.     I  hi 
the  weapon  :         and 
ing     his    pistols,    the 
it    fled    towan 
of  the  hill,  while  the 
!   for  their 
,  weapons     and 

St! 

thi 

I 

nn  n  in  an 
\\  ith  • 
■ 
tion 

• 

aim.  I: 

thi 

tip 

■ 


6o6 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


and,  with  a  rapid  rush,  Tola  managed  to  reach 
the  edge  of  a  steep  cliff.  Raising  his  arms  he 
let  himself  drop  a  distance  of  over"  thirty  feet, 
falling  on  his  feet  in  the  midst  of  a  tangled 
mass  of  brushwood.  A  few  minutes  more  and 
he  was  safe  from  pursuit. 

After  many  years  of  wandering  Tolu  grew 
somewhat  tired  of  outlawry  and  went  back  to 
the  hills,  where  he  took  to  tilling  the  ground. 
He  forgave  a  number  of  his  enemies,  but  never 
his  wife.  The  unhappy  woman,  turned  out  of 
her  parents'  house,  lived  wretchedly  in  a  little 
shed,  working  hard  from  morning  till  night  for  a 
bare  subsistence.  Her  child  was  growing  into  a 
lively  girl.  Tolu  had*  never  seen  her,  for  he  had 
been  obliged  to  take  to  the  woods  before  she  was 
born.    One  day  one  of  his  cousins  said  to  him  :— 

"  If  you  promise  me  to  come  to-morrow,  I 
will  bring  your  little  child  here." 

And  Tolu  quite  indifferently  replied,  "  Bring 
her  along." 

But  he  could  not  sleep  again.  He  became  the 
prey  of  feverish  agitation,  and  at  the  appointed 
time  was  eager  to  see  his  daughter.  She  was 
asleep  on  the  straw.  Tolu  crept  away  on  tiptoe 
to  call  her  aunt.  "  Wake  the  child,  do,"  he  said, 
piteously.  "I  dare  not;  she  does  not  know 
me,  and  would  be  frightened." 

Sure  enough,  at  sight  of  the  stranger  the 
child  began  to  cry.  Tolu,  with  tears  in  his  eyes, 
took  an  egg  and  some  bread  out  of  his  knap- 
sack and  offered  it  to  her. 

"  Oh,  white  bread  !"  exclaimed  the  little  one, 
in  delight. 

"  Don't  you  eat  this  bread  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  What  do  you  eat  ?  " 

"  Barley  bread." 

"  You  must  be  very  poor,  then  ?" 

The  child  made  no  answer,  devouring  the 
unusual  luxury  greedily.  From  that  moment 
Tolu  was  a  changed  man.  He  never  killed 
another  man,  and  became  a  terror  to  robbers. 
One  night,  at  the  point  of  his  rifle,  he  made  two 
shepherds,  who  had  used  his  name  to  strike 
terror  into  the  hearts  of  two  poor  labourers, 
give  back  the  few  liras  they  had  stolen  from  them. 
In  earlier  days  he  would  have  killed  them,  but 
on  this  occasion  he  forgave  them.  He  soon 
became  a  general  peace-maker,  calling  people 
together  who  hated  one  another,  inviting  them 
to  a  banquet,  and  then  making  them  swear  to 
be  friendly.  A  Sardinian  always  keeps  an  oath, 
and  so  a  lasting  peace  was  made. 

He  dressed  his  daughter  in  costly  clothes, 
and  sent  her  to  the  horseback  processions  to  be 
admired.  He  idolized  children  generally,  and 
was  always  touched  at  the  sight  of  poor  children, 
whom  he  would  often  help. 


All  this  time  he  worked  hard  on  his  fields,  raised 
a  dowry  for  his  daughter,  and  married  her  to  a 
steady,  hard-working  young  fellow.  He  would 
also  take  part  in  the  rural  festivities  and  in  the 
characteristic  Sardinian  dances.  He  would  often 
go  to  see  the  happily-married  pair  in  their  clean 
little  country  house.  One  day,  however,  while 
he  was  there,  it  was  surrounded  by  the 
carabineers,  who  had  by  no  means  forgotten  the 
ex-brigand. 

Tolii  felt  like  barricading  the  place  and 
defending  it  to  the  death,  for  he  was  armed  to 
the  teeth,  besides  having  a  number  of  dynamite 
cartridges  hidden  in  a  secret  corner.  He  could 
undoubtedly  have  killed  at  least  half  of  his 
assailants,  and  probably  made  his  escape,  but  he 
thought  of  his  daughter,  then  in  a  critical  con- 
dition of  health,  and  of  the  stores  of  grain 
which  constituted  the  sole  wealth  of  the  family. 
The  soldiers  would  assuredly  fire  the  house,  and 
all  would  be  lost.  What  would  happen  then  to 
his  daughter  and  her  children  ?  So,  to  the 
intense  surprise  of  the  carabineers,  he  threw 
down  his  arms  and  gave  himself  up.  He  had 
taken  refuge  in  the  woods  on  December  27th, 
1850,  and  had  terrorized  the  country  for  twenty- 
nine  years  and  nine  months.  He  was  old,  he 
said,  and  weary  of  brigand  life.  When  he  was 
taken  into  custody  he  went  straight  to  bed, 
sleeping  without  his  clothes  for  the  first  time 
during  thirty  years.  Along  the  road  to  the  gaol 
people  called  out  to  him :  "  Keep  up  your 
courage,  Tolii ;  you  will  soon  be  back  amongst 
us  again  ! " 

Two  years  after  his  arrest  a  lively  trial  took 
place.  Incredible  though  it  may  seem,  Tolii 
was  declared  innocent  by  the  Court  of  Assizes 
at  Frosinone,  and  his  return  to  his  native  place 
was  like  the  triumphal  entry  of  a  national  hero. 
But  his  popularity  did  not  turn  the  old  man's 
head.  He  was  anxious  that  the  truth  should  be 
made  public,  and,  whilst  defending  himself  to 
his  chronicler  against  unjust  accusations,  he  con- 
fessed himself  guilty  of  crimes  which  had  been 
attributed  to  others.  The  book  whose  appear- 
ance he  had  so  anxiously  awaited  was  just  about 
to  be  published  when  he  died  at  Portotorres  on 
the  4th  of  July,  1896. 

His  is  a  sad  story.  If  Tolii  had  not  been  so 
superstitious  he  might  have  been  a  thoroughly 
useful  member  of  society,  for  he  had  many  gifts. 
Many  other  brigands,  like  Derosas  and  Angius, 
who  became  such  as  the  result  of  a  riotous 
youth,  might  at  one  time  have  been  worthy 
objects  of  pity,  but  later  on  their  hands  were 
steeped  in  crime. 

Pietro  Angius  was  another  famous  brigand  of 
Sardinia.  He  was  a  handsome  and  attractive 
man.     At  the   age   of   twenty  one    he  married 


THE     BRIGANDS    "I      SARDINIA. 


Marie    Marruncheddu,    of    Bonorva,  and   lived 

a    peaceful,   hard-working    life    for    some    time. 
One  unlucky  day  he  left  his  home  in  search  ol 
more    remunerative    labour,  still   continuing 
send  money  to  his  wife.     The   latter,  however, 
took  advantage  of  his  absence  to  make  lo\ 
his  brother  Salvatore,  who  had  just  come  back 
from     his    term     of    military    service.      Angius, 
hearing  of  his  wife's  conduct,  but  pretending 
know    nothing,    made    haste    back.      No    one 
knows  the  exact  particulars  of  the  terrible  scene 
that    then    took   place.     The    neighbours    tell 
of   having   heard    a   cry   and  of  seeing   Angius 
rush  out  of   the  house.      The  erring  wife   was 
found    dead    on     the    floor 
inside. 

Angius,  hitherto  so  in- 
dustrious and  unobtrusive, 
was  a  changed  man  from 
that  moment.  He  took  to 
the  woods,  and  joined  his 
fortunes  to  those  of  the 
brigand  Derosas.  It  was 
literally  a  case  of  "  Beauty 
and  the  Beast,"  for  the 
latter  was  a  brutal  ruffian 
who  murdered  right  and 
left  without  pity  and  spread 
terror  throughout  the  land. 

Francesco  Derosas,  how- 
ever, had  himself  a  history. 
At  one  time  he  was  con- 
sidered one  of  the  most 
industrious  young  men  of 
Usini.  Then,  one  day,  he 
happened  to  be  called  up 
as  witness  at  a  trial.  He 
swore  that  he  had  told  the 
truth,  but  a  man  called 
Secchi,  and  two  women, 
Clotilde  Tocco  and  Marie 
Ruggiu,  maintained  that  he  had  lied.  On  30th 
September,  1884,  Derosas  was  condemned  to  ten 
years'  confinement  for  perjury.  He  was  twenty- 
one  years  old,  as  strong  as  a  young  bull,  and, 
everyone  said,  of  an  affectionate  disposition. 
Even  during  his  imprisonment,  whilst  planning 
the  most  awful  revenge  on  his  accusers,  he 
wrote  very  touching  letters  to  his  parents,  hill 
of  intense  filial  feeling. 

On  June  nth,  1891,  he  was  released  on 
account  of  his  excellent  conduct  in  prison. 
Landing  at  Portotorres,  he  happened  to  run  up 
against  a  very  old  enemy,  Dr.  Melis,  who,  with 
a  mocking  smile,  made  some  aggravating  r<  mark 
about  the  convict's  shorn  head.  Derosas  bit 
his  lip,  but  said  nothing.  Later,  on  the  4th 
of  November,  while  seated  on  his  doorst  p,  he- 
saw  the  same  doctor  pass  by.     Seizing  his  rifle 


1'IETRO   ANGIUS,    A   NOTORIOUS    BRIGAND,    WHOS! 

From  a)         ING  CAREER  IS   HERE  told.  {Photo. 


he  caul 

opposite  the  lil 
uncouth  <li.il- '  1  of   th 
I 

I  I  ■    then    ■• 

Clotilde  1 
had  called  him  a  liar.      1  le  w; 
two  leaps,  and  though 

ipe,  and  fell  on  her  km  -  5,  imploi 
have    pity  on  her,  he    kil 
and  flashed  away  to  continue  his 
As  fate  would  have  it,  he  met 
.1   few  moments  later  and   treated  h<  r  in 

ime  way.     <  M  1. 
: 

:  it     to    1 

him    in    the  fi< 

him  with  lying, 
shot  him  dead.      I 
slaught 
than    an    hour. 
evening     the    terrified    in- 
habitants of  Usini  gath< 
round    the    bod 
\i-  tims   in    hon 
silence.       As  for    the  mur- 
r,     he     was      a: 
fling    tl 
the  top  of  a  ruined 
a  mile  or   t  II 

saw      bands     of     1: 
soldi  Hop      1  v. 

heard  the  mournful 
of  the  church  1-  lis.    1 1< 
forth  he  knew  t' 
choice  for  him   bin 
to    the   woods 
outlaw,  with   a   pri( 
hi-    head.     He   1 
through  the  <  ountry 

of    Banari    up   into  the   mountains,  where   he 

obtained  help  Worn  the  herdsmen.     From  th 

men  he  found  out  that  a  certain  1 

his  own  sons,  who  had  been  a 

ing  a  youm  >ld   boy,   h. 

accused  him  |  D<  rosas)of  the  d  I 

the    brigand    furious.       i 

brigand,  considered   I 

called  a  murderer  of 

no  one  would  ev<  r  trusl  hi 

himself asa  butchi  rofS 

he  sought   Pireddu 
k  ill  ol    1 1 

him,  exclaiming       I 

and  this  is  the  waj    I 
I  He  unfortu 

spot,   and    D 

havii 


the 


6o8 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


vanity  and  self-sufficiency  which  animated  this 
man  that  he  actually  began  to  look  upon  him- 
self as  the  equal  of  the  judge  and  prefect,  and 
wrote  letters  to  them  full  of  directions  and 
intimations.  He  set  himself  against 
civilized  society,  and,  defying  all 
authority,  ordained   himself  vindicator 


brigand 


JS 


DEKOSAS   SHOT    HIM    DEAD. 


of  his  principles.  Together  with  his  accomplice, 
Angius,  he  committed  crimes  of  every  descrip- 
tion, always  giving  proof  of  extraordinary 
recklessness. 

The  story  of  the  Miraghe  Ida  sounds  like  a 
legend  from  the  classics,  but  is  nevertheless 
true  in  every  detail.  Attacked  by  carabineers, 
Derosas  and  Angius  defended  themselves 
bravely  with  their  rifles,  but  were  at  last  obliged 
to  flee.  Angius  made  good  his  escape  to  the 
woods,  but  Derosas  found  the  way  blocked  by 
a  cordon  of  soldiers.  A  close,  fine  rain  was 
falling,  and  Field-Marshal  Puggioni,  the  officer 
in  charge,  had  placed  his  sentinels  only  a  few 
paces  apart.  Derosas,  huddled  under  some 
bushes,  felt  that  there  was  no  way  out  of  the 
trap  Still  he  did  not  despair.  Taking  off  his 
top  boots  and  creeping  slowly  through  the 
undergrowth,  he  drew  nearer  to  the  soldiers,  the 
sound  of  the  falling  rain  covering  the  noise. 
Presently  he  drew  close  to  a  dense  thicket, 
behind  which  a  number  of  soldiers  were 
camped,  and  overheard  the  name  of  one  of 
the  carabinieri  mentioned  in  whispers.  Half 
an  hour  more  and  it  would  be  daylight,  when 
he  must  give  himself  up  for  lost.  A  desperate 
plan  occurred  to  him.  He  leaped  to  his 
feet,    calling    out    the    name     he    had     heard, 


and     added,     excitedly  :     "  The 
escaping   up  there.     After   him  ! "     The  unsus- 
pecting carabineers,  thinking  it  was  a  comrade 
shouting,  went  off  like  a  flash  in  the  direction 

indicated.  Mean- 
while Derosas  vaulted 
over  a  wall,  only  to 
find  himself  con- 
fronted by  other 
soldiers.  He  fired 
both  his  pistols, 
wounding  one 
man,  and  was 
once  more  at  large. 
Derosas  knew 
nothing  of  his 
comrade's  success- 
ful escape,  and 
thought  he  must 
be  dead.  When 
they  met  they  fell 
to  weeping  from 
sheer  joy.  Even 
in  the  great  cage 
at  the  Assizes, 
when  Derosas, 
captured  at  last, 
was  telling  his 
adventures  and 
came  to  this  en- 
counter with  his 
loyal  friend,  his  eyes  filled  with  tears.  In  fact, 
the  two  men  acted  as  admirable  foils  to  one 
another.  Derosas  was  talkative  and  vain  ; 
Angius  was  silent  and  thoughtful.  He  never 
slept  at  night,  but,  pipe  in  mouth,  would  search 
the  darkness  with  restless  eyes  until  dawn,  when 
Derosas  took  his  place.  In  fact,  they  were 
like  brothers.  Dangerously  wounded  in  one 
encounter,  they  both  took  refuge  in  a  little  hut. 
Derosas's  face  was  quite  disfigured,  while  Angius 
was  in  even  worse  case,  bein»  wounded  in  the 
arms  and  legs.  The  former  might  quite  well 
have  escaped,  but  would  not  leave  his  comrade, 
and  when  Major  Baratono  climbed  the  stair  he 
was  surprised  at  the  ease  with  which  he  was 
able  to  arrest  the  notorious  bandits.  There 
was  another  reason,  too,  for  Derosas's  non- 
resistance.  The  house  was  sacred  to  him  ;  his 
mother  lay  there  ill,  and  he  could  not  mark  it 
with  blood.  During  the  long  trial  which  ensued 
the  poor  old  woman  insisted  on  being  present 
at  all  the  sittings,  and  when  the  sound  of  her 
sobs  reached  the  prisoner's  cage  Derosas's  bold 
nonchalance  gave  way,  and  he  grew  suddenly 
meek  and  silent. 

In  1894  the  prison  gates  closed  for  ever  on 
these  two  notorious  brigands,  who  for  so  long  had 
terrorized  the  country  with  their  lawless  deeds. 


THE    BRIGANDS    Of    SARDINIA. 


HE    FIRED    BOTH    HIS   PISTOLS,    WOUNDING    ONE   MAN. 

Two  other  brigands,  Berrina  and  Corbeddu, 
hastened  to  take  their  places  in  the  hope  of 
attaining  the  same  notoriety.  Berrina  became 
the  terror  of  Dorgali.  He  was  a  small  man, 
ugly,  sickly,  common  -  looking,  yet  everybody 
lived  in  dread  of  him.  On  the  notices  he  put 
up  in  the  town  he  signed  himself  "The  Country 
Police  Officer/'  or  "  An  Executioner  minus 
Regulations."  He  forbade  the  citizens  to  pay 
their  taxes,  because  the  tax  -  collector  had 
deprived  his  father  of  some  land ;  he  forbade 
people  to  send  their  children  to  school,  and  the 
frightened  mothers  obeyed  him.  His  rancour 
against  a  certain  Dore,  whom  he  fancied  to  be  a 
spy,  was  terrible  One  night  he  took  him  by 
surprise  in  his  house  and  tried  to  shoot  him 
through  the  half-uncovered  roof,  but  in  vain. 
On  April  15th,  1897,  he  hung  up  the  following 
warning  in  the  public  offices  of  his  native 
town  : — 

The  Country  Police  Officer. 

Give  heed,  citizens  of  Dorgali.  I  order  that  no  one 
shall  take  his  cattle  to  graze.  Woe  to  the  servant  who 
shall  enter  Dore's  house.  Give  heed  to  these  words,  all 
of  you,  for  it  is  I,  who  wish  you  well,  that  give  the 
warning.  If  you  hope  to  live  a  peaceful  life,  do  your  duty. 
(Signed) 
The  Special  Country  Police  Officer. 

Poor  Dore  dared  not  even  venture  out  of  his 
house  for.  many  years.  When  he  heard  that 
Berrina  had  at  last  been  killed  in  an  encounter 
he  went  about  wailing  like  a  madman,  "  My 
goods,  my  cattle,  my  peace  of  mind — where 
are  they  now  ?  " 

Corbeddu,   the  oldest  of   the    brigands   al 

Vol.  xiv.-77. 


I 

1  I' 

I 

new 
11  la  1  ly 
compi 

and    in    his    1 
daj 
his 

citizens  of  Nu< 
the    cent 

In  in 

-    rdinia,    v. 
attached    t<>    him    because 
his  influence  at  ele<  ti<>n  tin 
Once,    when    two    I  nen 

had   been  seized    by  hi 
the    Government,    to    avoid    diplomatic   <• 
plications,    granted    a    free     pass    to  I  ddu 

on   condition     that    he    effected    their    reles 
The    brigand,    who   had   taken   no   part    in 
capture,  had  the  two  prisoners  handed  ovei  t<>  him 
and  went  to  the  appointmi  nt.      I 
two  syndics,  and  the  captain  of  the  carabini 
were  waiting,  and  offered    him    twenty  th< 
francs,  which  had  been  promi 
the  work,  but   Corbeddu  declined  them. 
he  had  no  need  of  money.     He  returi 
hills,    where   one  day   he    was   killed   by  a  l< 
distance  shot  fired  by  a  soldier.    He  fell  with 
face    turned    heavenwards,     calm    and    aim 
smiling.     A  sad  end  lay  in  store  for  tin    • 
marksman    who    had    killed    him,    Carabin 
Moretti,  and  his  comrade.      I  h(  terril 
band   of  the    brothei      -    ra    Sanna,   a   si 
number  of  strong,  reckless  men,  thoroughly  v 
acquainted   with"  the  district,  yet   n  1 


que 

be  dealt  with.     There  were  Virdis,  a  < 
Colossus  :    l'ati  :    Lo  VlCU,  a   nil), 
witted    lad  ;    and    the    dreaded     - 
brothers. 

On  July  10th, 
organized    against    thi 
authorities    having    made    up   tl 
stamp  them  out.     About  two  hundi 

nut  by  night  a 
with    a    guide    at    th< 
carabineer.      A 
plung<  d  at   last   in'-  an   in: 
woodland   in  the   M01 
cliffs    rise    almost         ei    out   o: 


6io 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


From  a 


GENERAL   VIEW    OF    NUORO,    THE   CENTRE   OF    SARDINIAN    BRIGANDAGE. 


torrent,  and  are  thickly  overgrown 
with  thorn  bushes.  Lieutenant 
Bechi,  who  took  part  in  the  expedi- 
tion, thus  describes  the  attack  : — 

"  Bands  of  soldiers  had  been 
stationed  here  and  there.  Cari, 
the  guide,  went  ahead  in  great  tre- 
pidation to  reconnoitre,  whilst  the 
rest  of  the  men  followed,  creeping 
along  on  all  fours. 

"  The  guide  came  back   to  say 
that  the  bandits  were  indeed  there. 
Our  advance  was   necessarily  slow 
and    difficult,  for    if   a  single  twig 
had  snapped  all  would  have  been 
lost.     Day  was  breaking.     In  front 
of  a  rough  shed  one  of  the  bandits, 
a  dark,  wiry  man,  lay  stretched  on 
the  ground  on  the    look-out.      He 
must   have    heard    something,    for 
suddenly  a  wild 
yell     resounded 
in    the     solemn 
stillness,  and  Lo 
Vicu      bounded 
to    his  feet    like 
a    tiger,     seized 
his    rifle,    fired, 
ran  to  cover,  and 
fired    again.      A 
shot    passed 
through      Cari's 
jacket.        The 
whole     of     our 
company    then 
fired   at   once — 
so  close  together 
were    they    that 
it    is    a    wonder 
they  did  not  kill 
one     another. 
The      bandits 


CARABINEER    MORETTI,    WHO 

CORBEDDU    AND  WAS    HIMSELF 

BY   ANOTHER    BRIGAND. 

From  a  Photo. 


SHOT 
SHOT 


I  'III-;  VALLEY  OF    MORGALIAI,  WHERE   THE    DESPERATE    BATTLE 

From  a]  band  occurred. 


tried  to  escape,  but  were  closely 
followed,  and  great,  stout  Virdis, 
who  could  not  keep  up  with  the 
others,  fell  over  like  an  ox,  struck 
by  a  shot.  Giamco  Serra  Sanna, 
while  running  for  his  life,  came 
across  one  of  our  concealed  detach- 
ments and  fell,  riddled  with  bullets. 
Brigadier  Gasco  followed  Pau,  who 
turned  back  and  fired.  Gasco  gave 
a  cry  and  fell,  dangerously  wounded. 
Moretti,  who  killed  Corbeddu,  was 
himself  shot  in  the  heart,  and  died 
without  being  able  to  say  a  word. 

"A  deathlike  stillness  followed 
the  battle.  One  of  the  soldiers, 
his  throat  burning  with  thirst  in 
that  close,  smoke-laden  air,  went 
down  alone  to  the  stream  to  drink. 
The  poor  fellow  was  seen  by  Elias 
Serra  Sanna  and 
Pau  as  they 
slipped  barefoot 
through  the 
thicket,  and  ere 
he  could  rise  he 
received  two 
bullets  in  the 
back.  The  alarm 
was  given,  and 
the  soldiers  ran 
up  and  opened 
fire  again.  Pau 
fell  with  a  broken 
arm  and  leg,  and 
the  next  moment 
a  bullet  crashed 
into  his  brain. 
Elias,  the  last  of 
the  brigands,  ran 
like  a  mountain 

WITH  THE    SERRA  SANNA  1  j:_„ 

{riwto.        goat,     bounding 


I  HI-.     BRIGANDS    01      SARDINIA. 


Ml 


GIAMCO    SURRA    SANNA    TELL,    RIDDLED    WITH    BULLETS, 


from  rock  to  rock, 
but  a  shot  struck 
him  just  as  he 
took  a  flying  leap 
into  a  cave,  and 
he  was  found 
seated  on  a  boul- 
der, quite  dead,  with  his  head  bent  over  on  his 
breast  as  though  sleeping. 

"When  the  bugle  sounded  to  collect  the 
troops,  torn  and  bedraggled  soldiers  and  cara- 
bineers appeared  on  all  sides  out  of  the  bushes. 
Litters  were  improvised  for  the  transport  of  the 
victims  of  the  encounter.  Gasco  lay  on  a  straw 
mattress,  but  out  of  danger,  and  his  comrades 
hung  round  to  hearten  him.  The  population 
of  Nuevo  came  out  to  meet  us  on  our  return 
with  flags  and  bands." 

The  desperate  battle  at  Morgaliai  marks  the 
close  of  the  era  of  real  brigandage  in  Sardinia, 
but  the  event  owes  less  perhaps  to  this  crisis 
than  to  the  perspicacity  of  Marchessa  Cassis, 
who  long  before  realized  that  a  noxious  weed 
could  not  be  destroyed  except  by  reaching  the 
roots.  He  had  made  secret  and  careful  inquiry 
as  to  the  names  of  those  who  harboured  the 
bandits,  and  discovered  more  than  four  hundred 
accomplices.  On  the  night  of  the  14th  of 
May,  1898,  all  the  suspected  persons  were  taken 
into  custody;  six  communal  councils  were 
dissolved  and  six  syndics  arrested,  besides 
several  assessors,  a  parish  priest,  teachers,  and 
well-to-do  persons,  and  the  families  of  the 
brigands,  whose  goods  were  confiscated  to  the 
extent  of  fourteen  thousand  head  of  cattle. 

The  effect  was  instantaneous.  The  brigands 
found  themselves  isolated  and  without  help,  and 


the 

Up    I 

(Ira: 
I 

M 
in  whi<  h  n 
Vi< 
the   hardiest    to  surrender. 
Vicu   was    shot    in     1.. 
the  last   brigand  oi  an 
fall  into  the  hands  ol  lh<    1 
bine<  rs.     I  [e  had  kill* 
persons   out   of    vendetta.       I 
other    brigands 
prisonment  ;     many    i  1 
courted     the     chain,     in 
to   obtain    the   reli 
wives     and     moth  I 

spent     a     few    days     in     : 
with    their    families     i     I 
giving   th(  msi  Ives   up  :    but   1 
one    went     back    on     his     v. 
of  honour.       The   lieut<  nai 
the  carabineers  went  to  and  fro  into  th< 
unarmed  amongst  brigands  armed   to  thi 
to  inform  them  of  the  probable  sentem 
awaited  them;    but  he  was  certain  ol  un- 

molested.    All  this  is  remarkable,  but  it  giv< 
correct  idea  of  the  Sardinian  char, 
a  woman,  and  a  gun — exercise,  li 
— these  are  the  characteristics  of  the  Sardinian. 
His  island  home  lies  in  a  somewhat  n<  _ 
state  ;  justice  is  slow,  and  poverty  most  abji 
so  that  the  freedom  of  the  cave  and  tl. 
has    great    attractions    for    him.       II  the 

bandit. 

But  to-day  the  outlaw  who   in. 
decides  quarrels,  and  publishe 
to  terrorize  cities  and  villi 
There  only  remain  a  few  isolated  rel 
justice  who  wander  about  the  count! 
escape  imprisonment  or  to  commit  - 
vengeance.      But,  after  all, 
such    things   as   rifles   and 
horses,    there   will  always  r> 
who  feel  the  necessity  of  I 
to  avenge   real   or 
may   be  a  high   pri 
minded,    hot-blooded   1  hil< 
will    not   hesitate.     While   th 
them,  th 

oct  upants     or     thi 
employment 


"Lone    Star." 


THE  ADVENTURES   OF  A   FAMOUS   SCOUT. 
As  Toi.d  by  Himself  and  Set  Down  by  T.  R.  Porter,  of  Omaha,  Nebraska. 

In   this  story   "  Lone    Star "  describes   how  General    Sheridan    sent    him    across    five    hundred 

miles  of  trackless  wilderness    in    the    dead  of  winter  to  make  peace  with  Sitting   Bull  and   his 

bloodthirsty  warriors.     It  was  a  mission  of  the  utmost  peril,  as  the  narrative  shows,  and  death 

in   many  forms  menaced   the  scout  ere   he  had  finished   his  work. 

IV.— IN  SEARCH  OF  SITTING    BULL. 


FTER  Sitting  Bull  and  his  Sioux 
and  Cheyenne  warriors  had  massacred 
General  Custer  and  his  entire  com- 
mand out  on  the  Little  Big  Horn 
River  in  Montana,  the  redskins  made 

a  run   for  the  Canadian  border,  and  got  across 

the    line    before    organized    pursuit    could    be 

instituted.       The    United    States    soldiers,    of 

course,   could   not  follow  the  Indians  over  the 

boundary-line,  and  so  old  Bull  and  his  braves 

simply  sat  down  there  and 

laughed  at  the  American 

troops   who  were   hunting 

them. 

From    his   vantage 

ground  the  wily  old  chief 

would     organize     a     raid 

against    the    outposts    of 

civilization    south    of    the 

border,    and,    descending 

like  a  whirlwind  of  death, 

would    murder   and    burn 

everything   in   reach    and 

get  safely  back  to  British 

territory      before      the 

American    soldiers    found 

out  what  he  was  about. 
For  three  years  the  old 

savage  kept  up  this  cruel 

and       sanguinary      work, 

defying  every  effort  of  the 

American    forces    to    get 

him.     Finally  the    matter 

came     up     through      the 

regular    diplomatic    chan- 
nels between  Washington 

and    London,    and,    while 

permission  was   not  actu- 
ally given   for  our   men   to  pursue   the  Indians 

across  the  line,   it  was  intimated  that  a  quick 

dash  and  as  quick  a   return  of  the  American 

troops  to  their  own  territory  would  be  winked 

at  by  the  British  authorities. 

Before  following  this  plan,  however,  General 

Sheridan    determined    to    make    an    effort    to 


SITTING    BULL,  WHOM        LONE   STAR      WAS    SENT    IN    SEARCH 
OF    BY   GENERAL   SHERIDAN. 

From  a  Photo. 


induce  the  savages  to  return  peacefully  to  the 
States,  and  settle  down  on  a  reservation 
which  would  be  prepared  for  them  in  South 
Dakota.  In  order  to  accomplish  this  it  was 
necessary  that  some  scout  should  go  right  into 
the  camp  of  the  "  hostiles  "  and  have  a  heart-to- 
heart  talk  with  old  Sitting  Bull  and  his  chiefs. 

It  was  a  most  dangerous  mission,  and  there 
were  just  about  three  chances  out  of  four  that 
the  man  who  undertook  it  would  never  get  back 

alive.  It  was  nearly 
fifteen  hundred  miles  to 
where  the  Sioux  were  sup- 
posed to  be,  and  death 
lurked  along  every  foot 
of  the  five  hundred  miles 
of  the  journey  which  lay 
beyond  the  settlements. 
It  was  winter,  and  deep 
snows  were  likely  to  fall 
any  day.  The  country 
was  infested  with  hostile 
Indians,  and  the  price  of 
a  man's  scalp  was  eternal 
vigilance  and  ability  to 
handle  his  guns  accu- 
rately and  rapidly.  And 
fiercer  and  more  bitter 
than  the  Indians  even 
were  the  Red  River  half- 
breeds,  through  whose 
territory  it  was  necessary 
to  pass. 

These  Red  River 
"breeds"  were  half 
French,  half  Indian,  and 
combined  the  bad 
qualities,  without  any  of 
the  good,  of  both  the  whites  and  the  reds. 
They  lived  along  the  border  and  answered 
to  neither  the  British  nor  the  American 
authorities  for  their  crimes,  robbing  and 
murdering  with  impunity  on  both  sides  of  the 
boundary. 

One  day,  while  I  was  in  Omaha,  Nebraska,  on 


LONE    STAR.' 


leave  of  absence,  I  receivedan  order  to  report  to 
General  Sheridan,  who  had  that  day  arrived  in 
the  town  from  Chicago.  Going  down  to  army 
head-quarters  I   saw   the  General,  who  quickly 

outlined  his  plan.  He  wished  me  to  go  to 
Sitting  Bull's  camp  and  have  a  talk  with  the  old 
chief  relative  to  surrendering. 

"It  will  take  you  at  least  two  month-,,  and 
probably  more,"  concluded  the  *  leneral.  "  How 
soon  can  you  start  ?  " 

That  same  afternoon   I   boarded   the   steam 
boat  Montana^  taking  with  me  two  horses,  on 
one    of  which   were    packed    a    few   provisions, 
much   ammunition  for   my  pistols,  and   several 
blankets. 

For  three  weeks  our  little  steamboat  pushed 
her  nose  steadily  up  the  muddy  Missouri,  which 
stream  as  steadily  grew  smaller  and  smaller  and 
its  volume  of  water  less  and  less.  Finally,  at  the 
forks  of  the  Yellowstone,  more  than  a  thousand 
miles  above  Omaha,  the  captain  announced  that 
the  boat  could  go  no  farther. 

Here,  then,  my  real  work  began.  Early  the 
following  morning  I  rode  out  of  the  little  settle- 
ment, taking  my  two  horses  and  my  few  supplies, 
and  started  for  the  north-west  to  hunt  Sitting  Bull 
and  his  band  of  two  thousand  warriors  and  their 
squaws.  There  were  no  roads, 
and  the  prairie  was  practically 
trackless  and  pathless.  As 
nearly  as  I  could  figure,  I 
was  something  like  five  hun- 
dred miles  from  where  the 
old  savage  usually  made  his 
camp,  but,  like  those  of  all 
Western  Indians,  these 
camps  were  continually  being 
changed,  so  I  determined  to 
go  first  to  the  British  author- 
ities to  ask  for  information 
concerning  the  Sioux. 

As  I  got  farther  away  from 
the  American  settlements 
wild  game  became  very 
plentiful,  and  I  daily  shot 
animals  which  I  used  for 
food.  But  my  horses  were 
fresh  and  I  pushed  them 
hard,  hoping  to  reach  the 
Indians  before  the  snow  fell. 
Travelling  by  compass  I  was 
enabled  to  keep  the  correct 
course,  despite  the  fact  that 
I  had  never  been  in  that 
part  of  the  country  before, 
and  in  about  a  week  after 
starting  from  the  forks  of 
the  Missouri  I  rode  into 
Fort  Walsh,  a   British  camp. 


whei 

able  North  W  esl  Moui 

I  rom  th n 

that  the  Indiai 

ward  from  the 

were  then  i  amped  ab 

the   head   « 

when-  they  would  pro 

game  could  be  killed  in  I 

Thither  I  went,  and   th 
of  my  field  glasses,  I   made   oul 
camp  far  away  in  the  dista 

It  was  necessary  that  I  should  n 
chief  before  any  of  his  young  bra\ 
else   I   knew  I  should  have  to  fight  to  k 
scalp  where  it  belonged. 

Taking   advantage    of    every    possibl     i 
therefore,  I  worked   my   way  gradually   I 
the    camp,   until    there    was    no    way 
closer  without  discovery.     Then  I  boldly   n 
out    into    the   open.     It    wasn't    half"  a   mil 
before  J  was  sighted,  and  as  I  did  not  v. 
uniform    of    the     British     mounted    poll 
Indians  took  me  for  an  enemy. 

I    had   fastened   a    handkerchii  I 
stick,  however,  and  waved  this 
peace,  at  the  same  time  beckoning 


.14 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


come  out  from  the  camp  and  meet  me.  This 
last  was  unnecessary,  for  with  a  whoop  half-a- 
dozen  painted  savages  started  at  a  gallop  towards 
me,  their  guns  ready  for  business. 

It  was  a  crucial  moment.  The  next  five 
minutes  must  decide  whether  I  would  get  to 
Sitting  Bull  or  whether  I  must  fight.  I  got 
ready  for  either  alternative. 

When  within  a  few  hundred  yards  of  me  the 
Indians  came  to  a  halt  and  began  to  reconnoitre. 
I  raised  both  arms  and,  turning  my  hands 
toward  them,  showed  that  I  intended  peace, 
and  called  to  them  to  come  forward.  Suddenly 
one  of  the  braves  called  out  : — 

"We-Chach-Pe  Wan-Ge-La  !  "  (my  Indian 
name).  Then  he  rode  rapidly  toward  me,  with 
his  hands  in  the  air. 

It  was  No  Flesh,  whom  I  had  known  down 
on  the  plains  along  the  Nio- 
brara, and  whom  I  had  be- 
friended several  times  some 
years  before.  He  had  recog- 
nised me,  and,  knowing  that 
I  was  a  Government  scout, 
came  forward  to  greet  me. 
The  other  Indians  of  the  party, 
following  their  comrade's  lead, 
crowded  round  and  shook  my 
hands,  appearing  genuinely  glad 
to  see  me. 

I  then  told  No  Flesh  that 
I  wanted  to  talk  to  the  big 
medicine  -  man,  Sitting  Bull, 
and  that  I  could  arrange  mat- 
ters so  that  he  and  all  the 
braves  might  return  to  their 
former  homes  on  the  plains  of 
Nebraska,  and  not  have  to  stay 
so  far  from  the  haunts  of  the 
buffalo. 

No  Flesh  informed  me  that 
all  the  Sioux  were  anxious  to 
get  back  to  the  southern  plains 
again,  and  went  at  once  to  see 
Sitting  Bull  and  arrange  a 
"  pow-wow  "  for  me.  The  old 
chief  had  begun  to  realize  that 
he  was  close  to  the  end  of  his 
tether,  and,  desiring  to  make 
as  good  terms  for  himself  and 
his  band  as  possible,  prepared 
a  grand  welcome  for  me,  send- 
ing assurances  of  his  friendship  for  the  whites  in 
general  and  for  "  Lone  Star  "  in  particular.  But 
these  fine  speeches  did  not  deceive  me.  I  was 
determined  that  Sitting  Bull  should  not  catch 
me  napping  as  Dull  Knife  had  done,  so  I  kept 
my  pistols  handy,  and  when  I  met  Sitting  Bull 
I  was  prepared  to  shoot  him  down  and  try  to 


fight  my  way  out  of  the  camp  if  he  showed  any 
disposition  to  make  a  prisoner  of  me. 

But  nothing  of  the  kind  occurred,  and  an 
hour  later  I  found  myself  smoking  the  "  pipe  of 
peace"  with  Sitting  Bull  and  his  chiefs,  all  of 
us  sitting  in  a  circle,  while  the  pipe  went  round 
and  round,  each  man  taking  a  single  whiff  as  it 
reached  him. 

All  the  Indians  were  dressed  in  their  finest 
feathers  and  war-paint,  but  not  a  word  was 
spoken  as  long  as  the  pipe  passed. 

Suddenly  Sitting  Bull  rose  to  his  feet,  and, 
stepping  into  the  centre  of  the  circle,  raised  his 
arms  above  his  head  and  began  to  talk.  He 
spoke  in  the  Sioux  language,  with  which  I  am 
thoroughly  familiar.  I  had  often  been  told  that 
Sitting  Bull  owed  his  influence  over  the  Sioux 
to  his  wonderful  powers  of  oratory,  but   I  was 


HE    WAS   THE   FINEST   ORATOR    I    HAVE   EVER    HEARD. 


not  prepared  for  the  stirring  speech  which  he 
made  that  day.  He  was  the  finest  orator  I 
have  ever  heard,  and  he  almost  convinced  me 
that  he  was  right  and  the  white  men  in  the 
wrong.  Ending  in  a  burst  of  eloquence  which 
brought  every  man  among  them  to  his  feet, 
with  their  weapons  shaking  above  their  heads, 


LONE    STAR.' 


Sitting  Bull  said  his  braves  were  all  warriors, 
and  would  rather  die  fighting  on  the  plains 
which  rightfully  belonged  to  them  than  return 
to  a  reservation  and  be  treated  like  dogs. 

1  was  no  match  for  the  old  fellow  in  a  debate, 
and  well  I  knew  it.  When  my  time  came  to 
speak,  therefore,  I  simply madea  "talk"  instead 
of  a  speech.  I  explained  that,  if  the  Indians 
would  come  lack  to  the  reservation  and  he 
yood,  the  Government  would  issue  rations 
to  them  for  a  long  time,  and  would  permit  them 
to  hunt  buffalo  as  of  old.  We  finally  agreed 
upon  the  terms  on  which  the  Sioux  would 
return  to  the  States,  the  chief  condition  being 
that  neither  Sitting  Bull  nor  any  of  his  men  who 
were  concerned  in  the  massacre  of  Custer  w 
to  be  punished.  Later  all  the  chiefs  signed, 
by  their  marks,  the  agreement  which  I  drew  up, 
but  which  had  to  be  submitted  to  General 
Sheridan  for  ratification  before  it  became 
operative. 

I  remained  in  the  Sioux  camp  for  a  week  in 
order  that  my  horses  might  be  in  good  condition 
for  the  return  trip,  and  at  the  end  of  that  time  I 
took  my  departure,  Sitting  Bull  accompanying 
me  for  several  miles,  while  he  impressed  me  with 
the  necessity  of  the  Government  taking  care  of 
himself  and  his  band.  Otherwise,  he  said,  they 
would  go  on  the  war-path  and  kill  all  the  pale- 
faces. 

If  my  trip  to  the  camp  had  been  compara- 
tively easy,  my  luck  changed  directly  I  left  it, 
and  scarcely  had  I  turned  my  back  on  Sitting 
Bull  when  my  troubles  began. 

I  had  not  gone  fifty  miles  before  I  ran  into  a 
band  of  the  dreaded  Red  River  half-breeds, 
under  the  leadership  of  the  very  worst  one  of 
them  all,  Louis  Riel,  who  afterwards  organized 
the  rebellion  which  bears  his  name,  and  which 
gave  the  Canadian  authorities  so  much  trouble. 
The  first  that  I  knew  of  their  presence  was 
when  a  rifle-shot  rang  out  and  my  pack-horse 
dropped  dead.  A  dozen  more  bullets  were 
immediately  fired  at  me,  but  missed.  The 
"  breeds "  had  ambushed  me,  and  being  too 
cowardly  to  fight  in  the  open,  although  about 
ten  to  one,  had  begun  shooting  from  con- 
cealment. 

I  didn't  want  to  lose  my  few  supplies,  so  I 
dropped  from  my  own  horse,  which  quickly 
obeyed  my  command  and  lay  down.  Getting 
behind  the  dead  pack-horse  I  opened  fire  on  the 
place  whence  the  bullets  had  come.  My 
fire   was   promptly  returned,  and    I  ugly 

lay  still  and  "played  'possum."     The  "b 
thinking  they  had  killed   me,  left  their  hiding- 
places    and    came    running   forward,   each    man 
anxious    to    reach    me    first   and    thus   get    first 
choice  of  my  plunder. 


But  when  I 
hi  firing 
ul   a   minul 

Riel 

the  ground  d<  ad      Bui 

were  too  great, 
e  and  rode  aw 

tin    dead  animal,  and 

with   me.     I   managi  d,   h 

pockets  with   cartridge     foi    mj 
ing.     For  two  daj 

me,  hungering  lor  o  •. 

a    pot  shot   at    me,    but    they   did    n< 

Finally,  I  ambushed  my  pui  >uei  s  and  w 

two  of  them,  whii  h  disheart<  ned  tin 

of  the  band  to  sin  h  an  extent  that  tl 

the  chase  and  returned  to  their  hour 
Two  days  later  1  fell  in  with  a  small 

Sioux  who  had  not  heard  of  my  visit  t>>  - 

Bull.     Three  of  the  bravi 

the    palms    of    their    ham 

their   friendliness,    but    when    the    i 

within  thirty  yards  of  me  th<  y  sudd< 

their    hands,    grabbed    their    ritles,    and    b< 

shooting  at  me. 

They  didn't    hit    me,   fortunately,  but  a   I 

second's  later  1  was  riding   foi    n 

whole    hunch    of   redskins    after    me,    wh 

yelling,  and  shooting.      Bel   i     1 

had   the   satisfaction   of  wound:  the 

three  braves  who  had  started  the  iow. 

The    redskins   followed  me   all    day.   but    I 
night  I  gave  them  the  slip  and  n  np  il 

a  dry  run.      bate  in   the  night    i 
didn't  like   the   smell    of  Indians,  woke  me    up, 
and  I  discovered  that  the  Sioux  had  foil 
trail  and  were  now  quite  close  to   me.     Ii 
darkness,  however,  1  again  escaped  and 
see  that  band  any  more. 

The  next  day  the  silent  white  enemy  w 
so  much  dreaded,  and  against  which   my  tru 
revolvers  were  powerless,  came  swoopin 
It   began   to  snow.      I  had  expected    it 
weeks,  but  it   had    held  off,  and   now.  when   I 
flakes  began  to  fall  thick  and  »  th; 

was  "up  against  the  real  thi 
I  had  hitherto  encounti  red  oi 
the  snow  came  the  ■  old 
penetrating.      The  icy    w 
straight  down  from  the  North  P 

in  the  pov 
Pra<  tically  all  my| 
skirmish  with  the  Red 
I  was  m  a  sorry  plight  i 

something    lik 

fallen.     1 

about  ■ 

tre.  '  : 


r,  1 6 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


"  I    WAS    RIDING    FOR    MY   LIFE,    WITH    THE   WHOLE    BUNCH    OF    REDSKINS   AFTER   ME. 


travel  much  farther,  so  I  staked  my  horse  in 
the  plum  thicket.  Then,  after  wrapping  two  of 
my  four  blankets  around  him,  I  took  my  hunt- 
ing knife  and  began  digging  a  cave  in  the  banks 
of  the  little  stream.  The  earth  was  soft,  and 
after  several  hours'  hard  work  I  found  that  I 
had  scooped  out  an  opening  three  feet  in 
diameter  and  penetrating  for  about  seven  feet 
into  the  bluff.  Then  I  wrapped  the  remaining 
blankets  around  me,  crawled  into  the  hole,  and 
went  to  sleep. 

The  next  morning  the  blizzard  still  raged, 
and  I  ate  the  last  of  my  provisions.  Then  I- 
gathered  dry  twigs  and  grass  and  gave  them  to 
my  faithful  horse.  It  was  poor  food,  but  better 
than  none  at  all.  After  breakfast  I  crawled 
back  into  my  hole  and  began  the  long  wait 
until  the  snow  became  sufficiently  settled  for  me 
to  proceed  on  my  journey. 

During  the  afternoon  three  large  elk  came 
down  the  ravine,  and,  stopping  only  a  few  yards 
from  my  cave,  began  whistling  and  snorting. 
Although  almost  half  frozen,  I  managed  to  send 
a  bullet  into  the  brain  of  the  leader,  and  he  fell 
with  a  crash.     Then  I  quickly  crawled  from  the 


cave  and,  cutting  the  large  vein  in  the  animal's 
throat,  drank  deeply  of  the  warm  blood.  This, 
together  with  the  skin,  which  I  hastily  removed 
and  wrapped  around  me,  restored  the  warmth  to 
my  numbed  body.  I  hung  a  good  supply  of  the 
elk  meat  in  a  tree  for  future  use,  and  left  the  rest 
of  the  carcass  on  the  ground. 

But  the  smell  of  fresh  meat  goes  far  on  the 
plains,  and  that  night  I  was  awakened  by  such 
howling  and  snarling  as  I  never  heard  before. 
A  pack  of  wolves  had  been  attracted  by  the 
dead  elk,  and  were  fighting  over  the  carcass  I 
had  left  on  the  ground.  My  horse  was  frightened 
almost  to  death,  and  was  wild  with  terror.  Not 
satisfied  with  the  elk  meat  the  famished  wolves 
prepared  for  an  attack  on  him,  but  I  poked  my 
arm  and  pistol  from  my  cave  and  began  shooting 
into  the  band.  The  blizzard  had  now  ceased, 
and  a  bright  moon  was  shining  coldly  down,  so 
that  I  could  see  almost  as  well  as  by  day,  and 
every  shot  told.  Until  long  after  the  sun  rose  I 
lay  there  and  shot  wolves,  and  the  live  ones 
devoured  the  dead  ones  almost  as  fast  as  I  could 
kill  them. 

For  another  two  days  I  remained  in  the  cave, 


IE    STAR. 


eating  elk  meat  and  feeding  my  horse  with  <  otton- 
wood   twigs  and   dead  grass,   the   latter    l< 

secured  from  the  hollow.-,  where  the  wind 
swept  the  ground  bare  of  snow.      For  drink  both 
the  horse  and  myself  licked  the  snow.      l!ut    by 
that  time  the  snow  was  fairly  hard,  and  at  1 
saddled  up  and  started  on  my  long  journey  again. 


1 1 
win' 

would   : 

with    the     In 


Four  more  days  of  travel  through  the  snow, 
and  we  came  to  the  little  settlement  at  the  forks 
of  the  river  where  I  had  left   the  steamboat. 
My  poor  horse  was  almost  dead,  and  I  was 
but  little  better  condition. 

The  river  had  not  vet  frozen  over,  and,  fortu- 
nately  for  me,  the  last  boat  of  the  season 
expected  to  leave  for  -outh  the  folio 

day.     On  that  boat  I  was  a  passenger,  and  my 
good  horse  went  with  me. 

When  I  reported  the  result  of  my  mission  I 


entire  band  return 
the  reservation 

fter  that,  v. 

broke  out,   I 
Sitting  Bull. 

wily  old  re 


• 


\        \iv. —  i  3- 


Jhs  "SDead   Jtoom"  at  Littleton. 

By  Lowther  Bridger. 

The  strange  story  of  a  clergyman's  dream  and  its  fulfilment,  which  culminated   in    a   startling  and 

unlooked-for   adventure. 


HE  following  account  of  a  some- 
what startling  incident  in  the 
experience  of  an  excellent  clerical 
friend  of  mine,  the  rector  of  a 
country  parish  in  the  South,  a 
bachelor  of  decided  and  energetic  hut  at  the 
same  time  highly  imaginative  and  nervous 
temperament,  may  prove  of  interest  to  those 
who  hold  that  dreams  are  not  always  what 
they  seem,  and  are  not  merely  the  product 
of  a  disordered  digestion. 

The  rectory  of  Littleton  is  a  delightful  old 
Elizabethan,  red-brick,  gabled  house,  stand- 
ing in  a  charming  garden  full  of  old-fashioned 
flowers ;  while  just,  across  the  road,  in  full 
view  of  its  windows,  rises  the  ancient  church, 
surrounded  by  its  time-honoured  and  care- 
fully kept  God's  acre,  shadowed  by  huge  and 
venerable  elms.  The  church  itself,  which  is 
full  of  interesting  monuments  and  records  of 
the  past,  has  the  further  peculiarity  that, 
upon  the  side  nearest  to  the  rectory,  there  is 
attached  to  it  a  kind  of  blind  aisle,  a  strange 
annexe  without  any  outward  opening,  showing 
only  blank  dead  walls  of  ancient,  time-stained 


LITTLETON    CHURCH,    SHOWING    THE        DEAD    HOO.M 

From  a  Photo. 


TO    THE    RIGHT. 


brickwork,  here  and  there  shrouded  with  gloomy 
masses  of  ivy.  High  up  in  the  gable  end,  how- 
ever, looking  towards  the  rectory, 
appears  one  small  and  solitary 
window,  with  heavy  stone  mullions 
barred  with  iron,  looking  dimly 
out  upon  the  clustering  stones 
below.  This  annexe  has  been  for 
many  generations  past  the  burial- 
place  or  mausoleum  of  the  Squire's 
family,  and  being  above  ground 
and  forming  part,  as  it  were,  of 
the  church,  it  is  locally  known 
in  village  parlance  as  the  "  Dead 
Room."  One  of  the  older  rustics 
described  it  to  me  under  that 
name,  adding  the  explanation, 
"Where    th'    owd     Squires 


is. 


From  a] 


THE    RECTORY   OK    LITTLETON. 


[Photo. 


Our  good  parson,  himself  a 
descendant  of  the  family,  had 
always,  it  appears,  a  peculiar  feel- 
ing towards  this  dark  and  silent 
abiding  -  place     of     his     departed 


THE    -  DEAD    ROOM       .VI     L1TTL1   , 


ancestors.     The  idea  of  this   strange  housi 
the  dead  standing  in   such   close  proximil 
his  own,  the    house  of  the    living,    powerfully, 
and    even    morbidly,   affected    his    imaginal 
The  solitary  window  staring  at  his  own  wi 
constantly  attract  his  gaze  by  day,  and  even  at 
night,  when  he  could  only   just  discern  ii  dimly 
glimmering  across  the  way. 

At  tunes,  when  he  h.ul  been  wakeful  and  risen 
from  his  bed  to 
look,  as  sometimes 
was  his  wont,  from 
his  window,  he  had 
imagined  that  he 
saw  a  dull,  lurid 
glow  of  light,  as  if 
f  r  o  m  w  i  t  h  i  n  the 
vault,  glimmering 
through  the  panes, 
dulled  as  they  were 
with  the  dust  and 
damp  of  ages.  A 
second  look  would, 
of  course,  dispel 
such  foolish  fancies, 
and  he  would  re- 
tire again  to  bed, 
rebuking  himself 
for  allowing  morbid 
ideas  to  obtain  pos- 
session of  his  mind. 
He  could  not  help 
recalling  at  such 
times,  however,  the 
memory  of  those 
whom  in  his  own 
time  he  had  seen 
pass  away,  and  had 
assisted  with  solemn 
rite  and  office  to 
place   within    the 

"Dead  Room,"  under  lock  and  key,  duly  closed 
and  turned  by  the  rectorial  hand.  The  huge 
and  ancient  iron  key,  by  the  way,  was  kept  in 
a  suitable  receptacle  in  his  own  study. 

The  most  vivid  dream  which  the  rector  related 
to  me  was  this.  One  night  he  seemed  to  be 
looking  from  his  bedroom  window  towards  the 
church,  when  he  suddenly  saw  die  "  1  >ead  Room  " 
lighted  up,  with  a  dull  red  glow  shining  from  its 
solitary  window,  across  which  the  dark  iron  bars 
were  strongly  marked,  while  ever  and  anon  deep 
shadows  seemed  to  pass  slowly  across  the  light, 
as  of  awful  forms  moving  in  the  vault  within. 
He  gazed  aghast  with  horror  at  the  sight,  and 
as  he  looked  the  light  appeared  to  glide  into  the 
church  it  ,lf,  and  he  seemed  to  hear  a  wiM 
of  unearthly  music  from  the  organ.  Then  the 
light  suddenly  vanished,  and  with  that  he  w 


THERE   WAS   A    LIGHT    IN"    THE    'DEAD 


1  he  hoi 
mind  fo 
it    to   l 

which    1m-   had    pr< 
indulge  ;  and,    I,,  i 
occupied  in   his  paro«  hial  du 
living   human   elem<  nt,    I 
thrust    awaj    from    him    all 
ciations  or  irua 

tin 

the  die 

year.  ( 
ha\ 

usual, 

a  suddi 

an     un;  table 

feeling     of     un 

ness 

pn  hiu), 

or  as   if   m 

\\i  re     in    the 

After    lying 

•   ■ 
he  at   length   . 
and    looked 
h  is    w  i  n  d  o  v. 
where,  allh< 

Could      : 

through  tli' 

he    knew    that    the 

church 

his 
mole 

to  tli'-  dark 
<  ould   jusl 
the  deeper  shadow  caused  by  the  loomii  . 
church    towel     and    the    gable    of    the     ■  I' 
Room."     but  surely  there  was  a  flickei 
somewhere?     Yes  j    tl  light    in  thi 

"  I  >ead  Room  "  !     He  could 
window   dimly  outlined    againsl 
without,  and  vividl) 

sion  of  terror  r.\u^<  d   by   In-  i  -it  th 

was  no  dream  :    lie  was  fully  awak 

.V,  he  realized  this  tin 
to  the  roof  of  his  m<  >uth 
his  morbid  fan<  i(  -  thu 
an  overpowering 
dread,  and 
man  thoi 

this  mon  dull,  n 

ear,  as  of  a  blow   Struck  up 
the  rend 


620 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


The  physical  effect  of  the  noise  was  instan- 
taneous. There  could  be  nothing  supernatural 
here.  Mischief  was  really  afoot,  and  he  leapt  to 
life  and  became  master  of  himself  at  once,  and 
ready  for  strong  and  decided  action.  Rapidly 
dressing  in  his  thickest  garments,  the  rector  put 
his  loaded  revolver  in  his  pocket,  drew  on  a 
pair  of  snow-boots  which  allowed  of  almost 
noiseless  movement,  and  ran  down  to  his  study. 
In  the  dark,  for  he  was  thoroughly  familiar  with 
the  room,  he  groped  for  the  receptacle  in  which 
the  key  of  the  vault  was  kept.  It  was  empty — 
the  key  was  gone  ! 

On  realizing  this  manifest  proof  of  foul  play, 
the  parson  at  once 
became  aware  that 
he  had  to  deal 
with  a  serious 
matter,  and  that, 
alone  and  single- 
handed  as  he  was, 
extreme  caution 
was  necessary. 
Fortunately  he  had 
in  the  study  a  small 
but  first-rate  bull's- 
eye  lantern,  which 
he  now  lighted  and 
carefully  closed. 
Then,  cautiously 
letting  himself  out 
at  a  side  entrance, 
he  noiselessly 
crossed  the  road 
and  made  his  way 
to  a  small  door 
opening  into  the 
vestry,  of  which  he 
alone  had  the  key. 

Unfastening  this 
without  a  sound, 
he  found  himself 
in  the  vestry,  on 
the  farther  side  of 
which  was  the  low- 
browed entrance 
of  the  "Dead 
Room" — a  massive  oaken  door  enclosed  by  a 
heavy  stone  arch  and  banded  with  strong  iron 
bolts  and  hinges.  A  glance  disclosed  a  light 
gleaming  from  within  the  vault,  and  showed  that 
the  door,  which  opened  outwards,  was  unclosed 
and  slightly  ajar.  Sounds  came  from  the  vault 
as  of  some  work  going  on  there,  and  as  the 
rector  moved  slightly  towards  its  entrance  his 
foot  struck  against  some  hard  and  unaccustomed 
object  upon  the  floor  of  the  vestry,  with  every 
inch  of  which  he  was  naturally  familiar,  even  in 
the  dark. 


'he  hukled  the  door  to,  and  turned  the  big  key. 


To  make  sure  of  his  ground  he  hastily  lowered 
his  lantern  and  slipped  the  screen  aside  fur  one 
instant,  but  that  instant  showed  him  that  the 
unknown  object  was  a  roll  of  lead.  The  situa- 
tion at  once  flashed  across  him.  This  was  no 
supernatural  manifestation  —  nothing  but  a 
vulgar  robbery  of  lead.  Some  miscreants  were 
rifling  the  tomb  of  his  ancestors  for  the  semi- 
precious metal,  of  which  a  goodly  store  was 
contained  in  the  shelves  upon  which  their 
coffined  relics  reposed  ! 

Full  of  righteous  indignation  at  the  outrage 
the  vicar  moved  swiftly  and  noiselessly  forward, 
while   at   the   same  time  that  horrible   rending 

sound,  interspersed  with  a 
brutal  oath  or  two,  again 
resounded  in  his  ears.  He 
passed  his  hand  rapidly 
over  the  door.  The  key 
was  in  it,  and  upon  the 
outside!  He  turned 
it  gently,  so  as  to 
feel  the  catch  of 
the  lock;  and  then, 
with  his  utmost 
strength  and  with 
a  wild  cry,  in  which 
his  overwrought 
nerves  found  relief, 
he  hurled  the  door 
to  and  turned  the 
big  key  with  a  clang 
which  seemed  to 
shake  the  ancient 
walls,  echoing  and 
reverberating 
through  the  dusky 
vaults  and  arches 
of  the  adjoining 
church. 

A  dead  silence 
ensued  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  then  a 
muffled  sound  of 
startled  voices 
came  from  within 
the  vault,  while 
the  light  which  still  shone  from  under  the  door 
was  instantly  extinguished. 

The  rector  could  not  resist  another  wild  cry 
of  triumph,  which  must  surely  have  accentuated 
the  horror  of  those  inside  the  vault,  who  had 
thus  been  entrapped.  Without  warning  or  sign 
of  any  living  agency  the  door  of  the  "  Dead 
Room  "  had  closed  upon  them,  as  if  of  itself, 
with  a  terrible  and  vengeful  force,  leaving  no 
hope  of  escape  from  the  horrible  darkness  in 
which  they  were  now  involved,  or  from  the 
dread    companionship    of    the    dead.       These 


THE    "DEAD    ROOM       A  I     1.1  I  I  II.  h  >\ 


horrors,  added  to  the  certainty  ol  to-morrow's 
capture  and  retribution  for  their  crime,  were 
indeed    sufficient   to    appal   the    heart    ol    the 

sturdiest  criminals,  and,  had  their  nerves  bi  -  n  of 
finer  temper,  might  well  have  driven  them  raving 
mad. 

Taking  the  key  of  the  "  Dead  Room  -l  with 
him,  the  rector  departed,  well  satisfied  with 
his  capture,  and  hastened  to  rouse  the  village 
constable,  and  to  dispatch  him  post-haste  to  the 
neighhouring  town  for  further  assistance.  Mean- 
while, without  a  thought  of  returning  to  his  bed, 
he  paced  the  road  like  a  sentry  on 
guard  over  the  "  Dead  Room,"  listen- 
ing with  uncontrollable  impatience 
for  the  sound  of  wheels  and  the 
approach  of  the  expected  police-cart. 
Once  or  twice  he  thought  he  heard  a 
hoarse  cry  or  two  from  the  recesses 
of  the  vatrlt,  but  for  an  hour  past  at 
least  an  awful  silence  had  brooded 
over  the  scene,  broken  only 'by  the 
mournful  moaning  of  the  night 
wind. 

At  length,  as  day  began  to  break, 
the  cart  arrived,  carrying  several  burly 
constables,  who  brought  with  them  a 
formidable  array  of  handcuffs.  Ac- 
companied by  the  men  in  blue,  the 
rector  entered  the  church  and  threw 
open  the  door  of  the  "  Dead  Room," 
while  the  police  sergeant,  in  ringing 
tones,  called  upon  those  within  to 
come  forth.  But  no  reply  was  heard 
save  a  faint  and  dismal  sound  of 
moaning,  and  after  a  moment's  hesi- 
tation the  party  entered  the  vault. 
What  a  scene  of  devastation  met  their 
gaze  !  The  ground  was  strewn  with 
fragments  of  broken  shells,  parcels 
of  lead,  and  withered  wreaths,  while 
among  them  lay  the  motionless  form 
of  a  rough  -  looking  man  bleeding 
from  a  wound  in  the  head.  In  the 
far  corner  crouched  another  pallid 
wretch,  apparently  palsied  with  terror, 
and  uttering  the  inarticulate  sounds 
which  they  had  heard. 

It  would  seem  that  the  latter  ruffian, 
furious  at  his  companion  having  left  tin'  key  out- 
side, through  which  oversight  they  had 
entrapped,  had  reviled  him  in  terms  which 
speedily  led  to  a  fight,  and  that  he  had  eventu- 
ally struck  him  down  with  the  iron  crowbar 
which  they  had  been  using  for  pulling  down  the 
leaden-covered   shelves.      No   doubt   the   cues 


rd  l>\  tli 
i  "Hi  i  m  tli 

gl<  . 

I '."ih  wen 
in    safe    CUSl 
crime.     It    • 
key  ol   tin-   ••  Dead    l 
obtained   from    a  I    dun: 

absence,  by  mi 
it  was  r<  quin  d  for  repi 

The  rector  himsell  will  tell  you  th 
of  that  night's  energetic  work  was  to 


■ 


for  ever  all  the  morbid 
and  if  you  ask  him  what  1 
curious  realization  i 
concerning  a  light  in  the  "  D 
lool  •  quietly  for  a  a 

another    and    a    Pauline   qu 
sufficient  for  these  thii 


Odds   and    Ends. 


Some  "Wide  World"  Sequels— Simla  and  Its  Trees— The  Voracity  of   Sharks,  etc. 


S" 


arising 


2 


-i-M. 


/-<*.  c^ 


OME  of  the  de- 
velop merits 

from  stories 
and  articles  pub- 
lished in  this  Maga- 
zine are  as  interest- 
ing as  the  narratives 
themselves.  Thus, 
our  publication  of 
Mr.  Hall's  account 
of  his  quest  for  the 
"  Transvaal  Trea- 
sure-Trove "  was  fol- 
lowed by  the  dis- 
patching of  several 
expeditions  to  Cape 
Vidal  to  search  for 
thefour  hundred  and 
fiftythousand  pounds 
in  gold  ingots  which 
were  alleged  to  have 
gone  down  with  the 
barque  Dorothea. 
One  after  another 
the  search  -  parties 
were  compelled  to 
return  home  empty- 
handed,  beaten  by 
the  terrible  surf;  but  the  last  expedition 
—that  of  the  ill-fated  Penguin — met  with 
absolute  disaster,  the  steamer 
swamped  and  no  fewer  than 
eight  of  her  crew  drowned. 

Another  story  which  has  had  an 
interesting  sequel  is  "  Twenty  Days  on 
a  Derelict,"  by  Captain  W.  H.  Gerard, 
which  appeared  in  our 
issue  for  September,  1904. 
Directly  after  its  publica- 
tion there  came  to  hand  a 
letter  from  a  naval  officer 
of  H.M.S.  Melampus,  who 
assisted  to  tow  Captain 
Gerard's  ship  to  port  after 
her  months  of  aimless  wan- 
dering in  the  Atlantic.  He 
forwarded  a  batch  of  strik- 
ing photographs  taken  by 
himself  on  board  the 
derelict.  Next  came  a 
number  of  letters  from 
passengers  and  others  on 
board  liners  which  had 
the    ship,    and 


y    tc^fiU.   /i-vu^    Tu™.  u~,  ^a^u(  tu  tH^vm. 

3  a^J    ny^AnAyr^tAyi    t-v^  (ACL     Un-*Lc_  urmAsC ,  /Tt^A>  a^U^ju 
IatL^-  uj  $^-    nAs^Le.    if)  /vu.  6^Lo^wm-4  L>  d^on**. 

lA^O     U^     vU  caA^^.     ^     l^-m^t/.     -&st<jL    fry    ^  ' 
JrC\^a^C<yy-^(     Ui      i»-t-*v  •iviav^    -^-t-vi^    ■/*^ru.       r'}~A*AjL- 

(S?  — — ^—       -_ .MM-         .ta___       -^____ 


H. 


Inss^ 


7- 


/UA^ 


THK    EXTRAORDINARY    LETTER    RECEIVED    IlV    THE    AUTHOR    OF    OUR    ARTICLE 
ON    "INDIAN    CHARMS''    IN     THE    SEPTEMBER,    1904,    NUMBER. 


twenty 


finally  a  communica- 
tion from  another 
naval  officer.  This 
gentleman  had 
picked  up  a  sou- 
venir on  board 
Captain  Gerard's 
unfortunate  ship, 
and  was  desirous  of 
returning  it  to  him. 

The  author  of 
our  interesting 
article  on  "Indian 
Charms "  forwards 
from  Bombay  a 
curious  letter  he 
received  from  a 
W  1  p  E  W  o  R  L  p 
reader  in  New 
Orleans:  The  an- 
nexed illustration 
shows  the  wording 
of  this  extra- 
ordinary document. 
As  the  author  of 
the  article  remarks, 
"  My  correspondent 
may  be  either  a  pro- 
spector or    a    burglar,    but 

in 


quite 


sighted 


HOW  CANADIAN    FARMERS    KEEP  COWS  OUT  OF  THE  CORN. 

/■'rom  a  Pitpto. 


he    is    evidently 
earnest." 

Farmers  in  Western 
Canada  suffer  considerably 
through  the  cattle  getting 
among  the  young  grain. 
The  old  cow  seen  in  the 
annexed  photograph  was 
a  hardened  reprobate,  with 
an  inordinate  fondness  for 
the  tender  ears,  and  it 
would  find  its  way  through 
a  barbed -wire  fence  with 
almost  human  sagacity. 
After  no  end  of  trouble 
with  his  neighbours  over 
the  cow,  its  unfortunate 
owner  hit  upon  a  novel 
headgear  for  his  errant 
animal.  A  framework  of 
light  poles  was  strapped 
over  her  nose,  muzzle 
fashion,  and  studded  with 
large  nails.  W  h  e  n 
Madame    Cow    attempted 


ODDS    AND    ENDS 


IN  SIMLA   IT   IS   EASIER  TO    BUILT)   YOUR   HOI  rO  (JET   I'ERMl  II  U 

From  a]  DOWN.       EVEN    THE    RAILWAY   GOODS-SHED    IIAs    TWO   GROWING     rHROUGH    1  (/' 


to  get  through  the  fences  the  nails  caught 
against  the  barbs  and  effectually  kept  her 
out   of    the  grain. 

The  municipality  of  the  Indian  hill-station  of 
Simla  have  a  laudable  dislike  for  cutting  down 
trees,  and  even  freeholders  must  not  remove  a 
tree  without  permission.  If  there  are  trees 
standing  on  a  site  where  you  desire  to  build  a 
house,  you  will 
probably  find  it 
simpler  to  erect 
your  bungalow 
round  the  trees 
than  to  secure 
authority  to  chop 
them  down.  The 
municipality  itself 
sets  a  good  example 
in  this  respect. 
Their  bakery,  for 
instance,  has  been 
carefully  built 
round  two  large 
trees,  one  of  which 
has  been  dead  for 
several  years,  but 
has,  nevertheless, 
not  been  removed. 
The  photo,  repro- 
duced above  shows 
a  still  more  recent 
example  of  this 
tender     solicitude. 


The    picture   depicts    the     g 

new  Simla    railway,   built   only  I  ■ 

As  will  be  seen  from  the  photograph,  tw 

trees — which  the  city  fathers  would  not  allou 

be  cut  down     protrude  through  the 

The    voracity   of  sharks  is    well  known,  but 
it    is    not    often    that   so    striking    an  ii 
of  it  as  is  here  depicted  can  be  recordt  '1  by  the 

camera.      While 
fishing  on  the  : 
to    the    north  v 
of    Bermuda    in 
July  last,  title 

man  caught   a 
specimen    of    the 
fi.sh  lo<  ally  known 
as    ■ 

stru 
whi< 


it  tl 


A    STRIKING  OBJECT-LESSON— A     SHARK 
THE    FISH    IN    HALF    WHI1 


624 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


PUBLIC   ADMINISTRATION     IN    THE    WEST — THIS    STREET    IS    IN    A    BAD   CONDITION, 
AND     THE      NOTICE-BOARD     SETS      FORTH      THE     REASON      THEREFOR     AND     THE 

From  a]  officials  responsible.  [Photo. 


Some  of  the  municipalities  in  the 
Western  States  of  America  have  a  re- 
freshing— and,  to  the  stranger,  distinctly 
surprising — way  of  washing  their  dirty 
linen  in  public.  Instead  of  conducting 
their  disputes  through  the  stereotyped 
red-tape  channels,  these  bodies  lay  bare 
their  official  affairs  and  invite  the 
general  public  to  decide  the  matter. 
The  photograph  reproduced  illustrates 
a  case  in  point.  The  barricade  here 
shown  was  placed  across  San  Francisco's 
busiest  thoroughfare  on  the  day  of  a 
great  fi'te,  when  everyone  was  making 
holiday.  The  inscription  on  the  board 
reads  as  follows  :  "  Notice  to  the  Public ! 
This  street  is  barricaded  because  the 
Board  of  Supervisors,  in  its  continuous 
effort  to  injure  the  administration  of 
Mayor  Schmitz,  has  refused  to  furnish 
the  necessary  funds  to  repair  this  pave- 
ment. In  its  present  state  it  is  a 
constant  menace  to  life  and  limb. — 
Board  of  Public  Works."  Then 
follows  a  list  of  the  supervisors  re- 
sponsible. A  little  of  this  kind  of 
thing  might  at  times  do  a  lot  of  good 
here. 


1IIE    NOVEL    MAP-CONTENTS   OF    "  THE    WIDE   WORLD    MAGAZINE,"    WHICH    SHOWS    AT   A    GLANCE    THE   LOCALITY   OF    EACH    ARTICLE 

AND    NARRATIVE   OF    ADVENTURE    IN    THIS    NUMBER. 


INDEX 


ABYSSINIA,    AN    ANGLO-AMERICAN    EXPEDITION    IX 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 
ADRIFT    IN    THE    AIR  ... 

Illustrations  by  R.   B.  M.   Paxton  and  from   Phol  graphs. 
AFGHANS,    EIGHT   YEARS   AMONG    THE 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

ALPINE   TRAGEDY,    AN  

Illustrations  by  A.   Pearse  and  from  Photographs  and  a  Facsimile 
AMBROSE   LEAKE,    THE   QUEST   OF 

Illustrations  by  Stanley  I..   Wood. 

AVALANCHE,  ENTRAPPED  BY  AN    

Illustrations  by  Paul  Hardy  and  from  Photograj 


... 

■' 
...    1 


"BACHELORS'    BANQUET"   AT    ECAUSSINES,    THE 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

"BANDIT    BELT,"    GIARI  ING    A    RAILROAD    IX    Till 
Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

BAROTSE,    AMONG   THE         ...  

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

BEAUVAIS,    THE    FETE   OF  JEANNE    HACHETTE    AT 
Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

BEGGARLAND    UNMASKED    

Illustrations  from   Photographs. 

BENEATH    TI1F    WATERS        

Illustrations  by  C.  J.   Staniland,    K.I.,  and  from 

BESIEGED    IX    A   CHIMNEY 

Illustration-  by  Charles  Hnrrc-II  and  from  1  holographs. 

BITER    BIT,    THE  

Illustrations  by  A.    II.    Fullwood  ar.d  from   Photograp 

"BOXERS,"    SIX    CYCLISTS    AMONG    MM 

Illustration-,  by  Norman   H.   Han1'  iphs. 

BRIGANDS  OF  SARDINIA,  THE      

Illustrations  by  J.   Finnemore,   K.I  .  and  from  Ph   I 

BUSHRANGERS  CAME  TO  M  LLA,   HOW  THE 

Illustrations  1>\    Norn        11     II 
BUYING   EXPERIENCE  ... 

Illustrations  by  J.    I  R   I 


Mi  .   /.   / 

. ' .    A 
II.   . 


CANNIBALS,    IX    THE   (  LUTCHES   i  >F 
Illustrations  bj   C.    I.   Stai  il     d,  R.l 

"CAPOEIRA,"    A    FIGHT    WITH    A 
Illustrations  bj    Pa   I   Hardy  and  I 

"CASTLE    DANGEROl  -  '        

Illustrations  by  N   rraan   II.    Hi 


626 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


"CAVE    OF    THE    WINDS."    THE     

Illustrations  from   Photographs. 

CHEAPSIDE   CLOCK,    THE   STRANGE   STORY   OE   Til1 

Illustrations  by  A.   Pearse  and  from  Photographs. 

CHICAGO,    THE    "BOY    BANDITS"    OK 

Illustrations  by  A.   H.   Full  wood  and  from  Photographs. 

CHINA,    A    BIT   OF   OLD  

Illustrations  by  W.  C.  Symons  and  from  a  Photograph. 

CIIOTA   NAGPORE,    WITH    A   CAMERA    IN 

Illustrations  from   Photographs. 

CIRCLE   OF   DEATH,    THE     

Illustrations  by  Alfred  Pearse  and  from  Photographs. 

CONGREGATION    IN   CANOES,    A 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 
CORK    HARYEST    IN    ANDALUSIA,    THE 
Illustrations  from  Photographs. 


F.   />'. 


PAGE 

...    Or rin  E.    Dun'ap.  348 

York  Hopewell.  14 

//'.   M.   liaine.  79 

Admiral  J.   Moresby.  42 

Bradley- Birt,   F.R.G.S.  216 

Edward  Zimmerman.  523 

John   C.   Hods  on.  48 

Evelyn  Stuart.  337 


DEADLY    PERIL,    IN       

Illustrations  by  C.  J.  Staniland,   R.I.,  and  from  a  Photograph. 


William  Daniels.     260 


ELDORADO    RUSH,    THE         

Illustrations  by  W.   S.   Stacey. 

ELOPEMENT,    AN    EYENTEUL         

Illustrations  by  George  Soper  and  from  Photograph^. 


E.   P.    II '//alley.     550 
L.  S.  Merchant.         8 


FILIPINOS,    CAST    AWAY    AMONG    THE George  Leitch,     52,  122 

Illustrations  by  \V.   B.  Wollen,  R.I.,  and  from  Photographs. 

FISHING,    A   SCHOOL   OF      A.   Pitcairn-Knvwles.     561 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 
FIVE-HORNED  GIRAFFE,   IN  SEARCH  OF    THE     Major  P.  H.   G.   Powell-Cotton,  F.Z.S.,  F.K.G.S.     115 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 
"FLYING    DUTCHMAN."    THE         A   Gordon  Smith.     69.190 

Illustrations  by  E.   S.   Hodgson. 

FRANCE,    A   FAIRYLAND   OF  C.  FT.    Williamson.     382 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 


GADABRUSI,    A   VISIT   TO   THE 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

GOLD-FISH    FARM,    A 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 


Major  R.    G.   Edwards  Leekie.     359 
A.   L.   Porter.     238 


HARVESTING    BY    WIRE 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

HAUNTED  HOUSE  AT  UPHOLLAND,  THE 

Illustrations  from  Photographs  and  a  Plan. 

HAUNTED    ROOM,    THE  

Illustrations  by  the  Author,  by  J.   Finnemore,   R.I.,  and  from  Photographs. 

HERMIT   OF    THE    DISMAL   SWAMP,    THE       

Illustrations  by  Paul  Hardy  and  from  Photographs. 

"JACKO,"   THE   ADVENTURES   OF  

Illustrations  by  W.  C.  Symons  and  from  a  Photograph. 

JAPAN    ON    FOOT,    THROUGH  

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 


Emory  James.  439 

S.  S.  Swithaine.  502 

Francis  H.  E.  Palmer.  351 

S.    IV.  Niemeyer.  201 

...  Oliver  E.  Durham.     49S 

.Marguerite  Pony.     324,  426,  543 


KANO,    WHAT    I    SAW    AT       

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

KIDNAPPING    A    PRESIDENT  

Illustrations  by  A.  Pearse. 

'•KING   SOLOMON'S    MINES,"    MY    EXPERIENCES   AT 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 


Captain  C.  H.  Foulkes,  R.E.     195,  229 

...Wilson   Woodbridge.     285 

R.  N.   Hall,   F.R.G.S.     402,483 


INDEX. 

LADY    AT   THE    LATTICE,    THE      ... 

Illustrations  by  R.  B.  M.  Pa  iphs. 

LAKATOIS,    THE    VOYAGE   OF   THE 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 
LAW,    THE    MAJESTY   OF   THE 

Illustrations  by  Mauley  L.  W  a  Facsimile. 

LITTLETON,    THE    "DEAD    ROOM  "    AT 

Illustrations  by   Norman   11.    Hard;  iphs. 

"LONE   STAR'      

Illustrations  by  George  Sopor  and  from   Photographs. 

LOST    IN    A    LABYRINTH         

Illustrations  by  Charles  Horrell  and  from   Photographs. 

MAJUBA    HILL,    UNDER  ...  

Illustrations  by  R.   P..  M.    Paxton. 

MAN-HUNT,    A    MONTANA      

Illustrations  by  H.  Sandham  and  from   Photographs. 
MAN    v.    PANTHER  

Illustrations  by  W.   B.  Wollen,  R.I.,  and  from   Photographs. 
MISS   STONE'S   CAPTURE    BY    BRIGANDS,    Till'.   SECR]   I    I  »!•' 

Illustrations  by  J.   I-   C.  Booth  and  from   Photographs. 
MOONSHINERS,    THE 

Illustrations  by  H.  Sandham  and  from  Photographs. 
MY    INITIATION 

Illustrations  by  E.  S.   Hodgson  and  from  a  Photograph. 


... 

r.  h 

...  .1/ 

Waiter  G.   Pa 

■ 
/ 

/. 

/    i 


ODDS   AND    ENDS  

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

PAY-TRAIN,    HOW  JEANNE    SAVED   THE 

Illustrations  by  H.  Sandham  and  from  Photographs. 

PEARL-FISHERS   OF   CEYLON,    THE 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

POLAR  BEARS,  A  BATTLE  WITH 

Illustrations  by  \V.  C.  Symons  and  from  Photographs. 

PRINCESS'S    LOVE   STORY,    A 

Illustrations  by  E.  S.   Hodgson  and   from   Photographs. 
PRINCESS'S    PROPOSAL,    THE  

Illustrations  by  Alfred   Pears-  and   from    Photographs. 

PYTHONS,    A    BATTLE    FOR    LIFE    Willi 

Illustrations   by   H.    G.    Burgess  and    from    Photographs. 

RAIT,    THE    TWENTIETH-CENTURY        

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

RAIN-MAKING    IN    SAVAGE     \lkl<    \        

Illustrations  from   Photographs. 
RHINOCEROSES,    THE    RAID    OF     THE    ... 

Illustrations  by  A.   Pearse  and  from  Photogi 
ROBINSON    CRUSOE,    A    MODERN 

Illustrations  from   Photographs. 

ROCKS.    SANCTUARIES    IN     HIE     

Illustrations  from   Photographs. 


From  all  pat Is  of tht  World.      101,  2< 

Phi 

...... 



... 



... 

... 

/: 

... 
... 


SEMARIKA,    THE    STONE    Ol 

Illustrations  by  Norman  H.    Hardy  and  from  ph. 

SERVANTS,    MY    FRENCH       ... 

Illustrations  by  \\  .  S.  Stacey. 

SHEEP-DOG   COMPETITION,    A    FRENCH 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

SHETLAND,    THE    FESTIVAL   01    UP-HELLY-A    IN 

Illustrations  from   Photographs. 


/• 


628 


THE    WIDE    WORLD    MAGAZINE. 


SHIPWRECK,    MY  : 

Illustrations  by  W.  C.   Symons  and  from  a  Photograph. 

SLEDGE   ACROSS   TITE   TOP   OF   EUROPE,    BY 

Illustrations  from   Photographs. 

SOUTH   SEA   REPUBLIC,    A 

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 

STAROVERY,    AMONG   THE  

Illustrations  by  J.   Finnemore,   R.I.,  and  from  Photographs. 
STING-RAY,    A    FIGHT   WITH    A 

Illustrations  by  C.   J.   Staniland,   R.I.,  and  from  Photographs. 

"  STRATUM*  >RE,:I    THE    LAST   VOYAGE    OF    THE    . 
Illustrations  by  W.   C.  Symons  and  from  Photographs. 


CAGE 

Mary  Farrah.  163 

Qihon   Willets.  169 

. . .  Beatrice  Grimshaw.  494 

Francis  H.   E.   Palmer.  277 

Charles  R.    Marlaft.  21 1 

Edward  Preston.  454 


TERRIBLE    PREDICAMENT,    A  

Illustrations  by  E.  S.  Hodgson  and  from  Photographs. 

UNMASKED  !  

Illustrations  by  W.   B.   Wollen,  R.I.,  and  from  a  Photograph. 


/.    W.Jeffreys.     584 


David  Devant.     557 


WIDOW   SIMPSON'S  JOURNEY         

Illustrations  by  H.  G.  P5urgess  and  from  Photographs. 
"WILD    MAN"    OF   THE    PEAK,    THE      

Illustrations  by  W.  S.  Stacey  and  from  Photographs. 

WILDS,   THREE   MEN   IN   THE       

Illustrations  by  Norman  H.   Hardy  and  from  a  Photograph. 

WIND    CAVE,    LOST    IN  

Illustrations  by  H.  Sandham  and  from  a  Photograph. 

WIRE-TAPPERS,    THE 

Illustrations  by  H.   Sandham  and  from  a  Photograph. 
WOMAN    AT   THE   WINDOW,    THE  

Illustrations  by  W.   C.   Symons  and  from  Photographs. 

WOMBEYAN   CAVES,    IN   THE         

Illustrations  from  Photographs. 


/.  L.  von  Blon.  222 

//.  L.   Adam.  60 

lames  Barr.  94 

..     Thos.  L.    Wright.  443 

Waller  G.   Patterson.  34 

...   Tom  Bevan.  250 

F.   S.  Hait  net  I.  588 


GECRCE    NEWNEs.    LTD..    SOUTHAMPTON    STREET    AND    EXETER    STREET,    STRAND.    W.C. 


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