I life; t^^" I Class — G^_&l£L Book__JrLlX Copyright ]^^ COPyRIGHT DEPOSET Digitized by the Internet Arciiive in 2011 with funding from The Library of Congress http://www.archive.org/details/lifeinotherlandsOOhamb Life IN Other Lands BY ALICE HAMBLIN (I SCHOOL EDUCATION COMPANY PUBLISHERS MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA LIBRARY of CONGRESS Two CoDles Received MAY 12 1904 Csoyrlffht Entry CLAS^ a- XXo. No. ^i> 1 / i COPY B COPYRIGHTED 1903 BY ALICE HAMBLIN Life in Other Lands Contents -^ PAGJE Switzerland — Jules 1 Hassan, the Arab _ _ _ 21 Africa — Kongo _ - - , 39 Eskimo — Kudlu 62 South America — Marja 84 China — Sing Lee - - - 107 Germany — Klara - - _ 130 Switzerland 5 iJ 5 JULES N rugged Switzerland there lives a boy who is a worthy type of a brave people. Whethf er found on mountain heights or ift picturf esque valleys, the Swiss are ever devoted to their na-^ tive land, and courageous in its defense. Jules lives in a tiny house, that is nestled for se- curity against the side of the mountain. The low shingle roof, which is loaded with stones as protection from the force of the wind, projects over an outside gallery. The space under the house is a combination of barn, woodshed, cow house, carriage house, and store room. Jules has just finished his preparations for the night, and we enter with him the neat room where the evening meal is waiting. The bench which extends around three sides of the room, the long table, and an earthen stove comprise the chief articles of furniture. Jules is his mother's only support. His father has been dead a year, and there are neither brothers- nor sisters to share the responsibility of keeping up the home. The small herd of cows and the goats that were his father's are a heavy care for so young a boy. LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. The neighbors are all fond of the boy and he is al- ways able to get work. He used to be a goatherd. It is a dangerous occupation, for the goats are pastur- ed where it is unsafe for the cows to go. The boy is ex- ^ pected to risk his life for the goats in his charge and to avoid neither ex- posure nor fatigue. Only to - day a neighbor has come asking Jules to go with the herds next week to assist at the cheese making. He offers to take the small herd belonging to Jules along with several other herds from the village and he will divide the profits according to the amount of milk given by each man's herd. The wages which Jules will receive will help to buy his mother some needed comforts, and he accepts the offer. Several weeks ago neighbor Fritz went up to the chalet* and put everything in readiness. It is now the last of May and it is quite time for the departure of the herds. *Chatet is a term applied to the simple mountain dwellings of Switzerland. SWITZERLAND. When this event takes place there is a hoHday for the entire village. For hours, Jules has been rubbing the coats of the cattle to make them sleek and clean. The streets are thronged with envious boys and girls, feeble old men, and proud but saddened wives and mothers. Fritz, the Zusenn,* goes first, followed by the cat- tle, gaily decorated with garlands of ribbon and flow- ers. The milking stool, festooned with flowers, is fas- tened in its conspicuous place on the horns of a bull. The leader of the herd has fastened to her neck a large, egg-shaped, brass bell. She is ever mindful of her rank. Should her bell be lost, she sickens; while if sold and placed in a herd where another leader is in possession, there is a fight for the leadership. The women who are left in the village will em- ploy the time with embroidery and tambouring, t In Hamerstein, however, the whole community repairs to a summer village with the herds, leaving only a few old men on guard. Slowly the procession winds out of sight, the pack horses with the cheese-making apparatus bringing up the rear; and those who are left at home turn again to their daily tasks. *A sort of superintendent. fA kind of embroidery. LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. Let US follow the difficult path of the herdsmen as they wind upward. About noon a sudden halt is called, for the path ends in a steep descent. The cows must be let down this precipice by ropes, so the prog- ress is much de- layed; and it is long after noon when the chalet is reached. When the measures are un- packed, the one- legged stools put away, the funnel- shaped strainers lined with fresh leaves, the beds of straw made for the men, and the herds cared for, it is dark; and a very simple meal i s eaten, for which hard work has provided a good appetite. SWITZERLAND. From now on, one day is much like another. Some look after the herds as they feed; others are busy at the cheese making. Jules is engaged in this latter occupation. From the milk of eighty cows they make about ninety pounds of cheese a day. The milking is done at ten o'clock in the morning, and again at ten in the evening. It takes six or eight goats to equal the value of one cow, while only four sheep or four hogs equal' a cow; but one horse is worth four or six cows. During the lonely night's watch on the moun- tains, the herdsmen answer each other with the yodel,* this peculiar sound cheering many a lonesome heart. The days pass, and finally the shareholders come to the chalet to see the milk measured. The cows are milked in the presence of their owners, and the amount of milk is taken as the basis for dividing the profits. There are certain laws which control even the pasture lands. An Alp master is chosen to act as a sort of policeman and road master combined. He looks after the pasture lands on his Alp. One day, Jules and his friend Lewis received per- mission to start on a chamois hunt. The chamois is *The yodel is a peculiar, far-reaching call used by the herds- men. LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. the only antelope of western Europe. It is a timid creature, weighing from forty to seventy pounds. To hunt the chamois requires a strong constitution, for there is hard climbing, it is so difficult to get within range. Jules and Lewis took a drink of warm blood be- fore starting, as that is considered an excellent pre- ventative for dizzi- ness. They hoped to come upon a herd of chamois feeding, eith- er in the morning or evening, as it is their habit to do. The chamois uncover the tender herbage or reindeer moss, with their feet, and while thus occupied may be approached more suc- cessfully. Failing to do this, the boys changed their plans, CHAMOIS and Jules, who was the better shot, took his station to wait, while Lewis went to scare up the game. SWITZERLAND. Lewis was more fortunate than he had dared hope. He actually found a herd of twenty or thirty. One of their number was acting as sentinel, being re- lieved every quarter of an hour by another. Almost as soon as Lewis perceived her, she became conscious of danger, and gave the alarm by stamping with her fore feet on the ground and uttering a shrill whistle. Lewis' had just time to aim at the white spot under the throat of one whose glossy coat showed him to be a desirable prize, when the whole herd scattered, leap- ing from rock to rock on their slender feet. He had fired, but he had missed. Jules, at his station, heard the report of the gun, and was all attention. Just then, around the curve in the ledge, came a chamois at such speed that she had time neither to leap down over the precipice, if indeed that were possible, nor to retrace her steps. Jules had no time to fire, and a collision seemed inevitable that must dash our young hunter to a horrible death. With wonderful presence of mind he did the only thing that could save his life — ^he threw himself upon his face and the chamois passed over him and away. Vexed at having missed such a rare opportunity, he shifted his position so as to be farther from the curve in the ledge. Hardly had he done so, when a , second animal came bounding toward him. Jules was LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. ready this time, and fired. At the same time the chamois, realizing the danger, leaped down over the precipice fully twenty-five feet to a lower ledge. Jules was half wild with vexation and disappointment. Waiting a few moments to see if another chance would present itself, he went in search of Lewis. The rest of the day was without any adventure, and at nightfall the boys built a rough shelter and were soon asleep, regardless of the threatening sky. Next morning the search began anew. This time success came, and it came early. Jules imprudently approached too near a small herd, and having reason to believe that he had been seen, he hung his hat on a stick so that it showed just above the rocks. Then by going a long way round, he was able to get within range without being discovered. One graceful crea- ture stood apart from the rest, having finished drink- ing from the salt spring where the others were still quenching their thirst. Her slender black horns rose straight from her forehead and curved backwards at the ends. She made an excellent mark as she stood motionless. Jules raised his gun and fired, and the beautiful animal fell, while her companions so quickly disappeared that Jules had no chance to venture an- other shot. Lewis came, on hearing his friend's joyful call. SWITZERLAND. Together they removed the entrails, that the load might be lightened, and then started homeward with the valuable prize. The flesh was a welcome addition to the plain food at the chalet, and the skin was care- fully dried to be sold in the city as material for gloves or breeches. Jules kept the horns as a trophy of his prowess. Perhaps some day when persistent hunting has made the chamois very rare, he will show his tro- phy to his children as they gather about him, and in response to their demand' for a story, will tell them how he killed a chamois. Jules's father once tried to tame a young chamois, but the attempt was unsuccessful; for, kept in a warm stable, the creature sickened and died, while in its na- tive air it might have lived thirty years. After this the men called Jules and Lewis "Our hunters," and a month later the men offered to do the work that belonged to the boys, while they took an- other holiday. This time nothing less than an ibex would satisfy the ambitious hunters. The ibex, or bouquetin, is a game that is very rare, and is found only on mountain peaks in herds of ten or fifteen. The ibex is a hand- some animal, four and a half feet long and two and a half feet high. He is covered in summer with short gray fur, which grows longer in winter, and is then of 10 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. a yellowish color. The male has a short beard which remains during the winter, but disappears in the spring. He has immense, thick, flat horns, curving backwards. The horns of the female are only half as long. The hoofs are hard as steel, rough underneath, m^Jik. /^- '^■^ f^^'i^ sL «w- '^L ^' hi-&iff « P iNHKf^'^iitt '' ' ^- -'''y'-^^^^ ^ kllii^ ^ Iff pw- ■',. ^s- t. "^ Wf. m k ' and spreading. Such was the character of the prize which the boys hoped to secure. Since the fore legs of an ibex are shorter than the hind legs, he ascends more easily than he descends, so it is quite an object to approach him from above; SWITZERLAND. 11 especially as his keen scent would readily detect the presence of an enemy below him, the currents of air coming from that direction. All night Jules and Lewis lay in the poorest kind of a shelter, afraid to build a fire, lest its smoke should betray their presence. Trying to sleep whenever they could forget their discomforts, and risking the dan- gers of a storm in the mountains, the long night seemed interminable. Rising at dawn, they set out to see if they might meet an ibex returning from the forests below, where he had been feeding during the night. This is exactly what did happen, and they shot a fine ibex whose horns alone measured fully a yard long and must have weighed sixteen or eighteen pounds. Each boy took a long drink of the warm blood, for it is said to cure pleurisy, and they were both suffering greatly from the night's exposure. The boys were now the heroes at the chalet, and had to I tell all about the hunt while the flesh was being eaten. Summer passes and it is near the end of August when the return to the village must take place. One night, a fire brighter than usual is built before the chalet. As the darkness deepens, other fires appear here and there on the mountains, as they have done on preceding nights. When the fire is brightest, the flaming logs are rolled to the edge of the cliff, and 12 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. sent crashing into the valley below. Jules's mother, who is standing at her door-way watching the distant fire and praying that all may be well with her son, sees the shower of sparks as the logs come over the cliff, and hastens to spread the joyful news, "The herds are coming home." The next day looks upon a busy scene at the cha- let. Bunches of monks-hood adorn the hat of each man; the procession is formed, the cheese is loaded on pack mules, and the strange procession begins to move. Just outside the village the sheep are separated from the goats; and then, midst cheers and joyful greet- ings, the men enter the village and are home again. Jules's mother has many things to relate and some improvements to show that have been made under her direction to increase the value of the farms. She has carefully hoarded up every particle of fertilizing ma- terial, and has had it placed in spots where almost no soil existed; thus, by means of patience and hard work, making land where none had been. In the middle of the summer an Englishman had come to the door asking for lodging. He desired to study the country, and offered to pay well for what he received. The money was greatly needed, and Mr. Mace soon became a familiar sight in the little com- munity, as he tramped about in search of specimens SWITZERLAND. 13 of plant or animal life. He discovered that, at the greater heights, insects were without wings; doubtless because the power of flight would be worse than use- less where the upward currents of air would carry them to snow regions whence they could not return. He had obtained specimens of the marmot,* Alpen hare, grouse, partridge, and wild duck, and had offered a rich reward for a lammergeyer,t dead or alive. But that fierce bird is fast becoming extinct, and even Jules, as his mother relates the story, is fired with no hope of claiming the reward. In Mr. Mace's collec- tion are all varieties of the crocus, anemone, geranium, gentian, primrose, butterwort, and even the common pinks that everywhere dot the fields. I want to stop just here to tell you what he wrote to me concerning the Alpen roses; for he was my un- cle, and I had asked him to send me some specimens. He said: "The Alpen roses grow on low bushes. They resemble azaleas of which you are so fond. The leaf and buds are protected by hu§ks. The blossoms vary in color from rose to carmine, the depth of color in- creasing with the altitutde. I was surprised to find that a blossom never withers, but falls in a crimson shower while at the height of its beauty. I have tried *The marmot is a rodent somewhat like the squirrel. fThe lammergeyer is a very large vulture. 14 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. to transplant the shrub, but in no case has my attempt succeeded; a fact that is pecuhar, since, in its native element, it is so hardy. I picked a bunch to carry to the village, but it had faded before I had left the spot." Jules is eager to meet the gentleman of whom his mother has given such an interesting account, and he, too, yields to the charm of this white haired man whose kindly smile wins the affection of every- one. One stormy day he asked Jules to make him an Alp horn. Jules takes a piece of a young pine five feet long and hol- lows it out with a hot iron. He makes the sec- ond piece also of pine, but shapes it like a cup. almost eighteen inches long. Through this horn can be made a sound which heard from a distance or in the midst of echoes, is wonderfully sweet. Before winter comes, there are a thousand things SWITZERLAND. 15 to do. Some of the hay has been cut, but there is still the wild hay. The day for cutting has been pre- viously announced, and early dawn finds the men al- ready far up in the mountains where each seeks to be first at the hay. Wild hay, although short, is strongly scented and is considered very choice. Of course you find Jules among the foremost. He is very nimble and anxious to gather every bit of grass his eyes may light upon. When his bundle grows heavy, he lets it down by ropes to a lower level, where he will later follow to spread out the grass to dry. Starting homeward after a day of hard work, Jules happens to meet his friend Lewis, who wants him to shorten the distance by crossing the glacier. Now the boys had no business to make such a fool- hardy venture; for the glacier, though narrow, is rough and dangerous. The explosions and the crack- ing of the straining ice should have warned them, but both boys are two well accustomed to danger to hesi- tate, and soon the boys are picking their way care- fully across, often leaping over deep fissures where a single slip would send one or both far down into a crevasse, beyond possible rescue. They have taken the precaution to tie the rope they have been using for hay about their waists, so that they are connected; but even this would be of little aid in case of a serious 16 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. misstep. Their Alpen staffs are of great use. The seven feet of strong wood as large round as a broom stick has a sharp prong at one end which being plant- ed in the ice makes it possible to leap from point to point. No accident does befall the daring boys else my story would come to an untimely end, but it is a fool- ish risk to take. A little later both Jules and his mother hire out to work in the vineyards, when by an act of Commune* the grapes are declared ripe. Vineyards are found everywhere, in the lower valleys and on the sunny slopes. Jules with his short hooked knife proves to be of much assistance. The vintage being over, there is wood to cut. Now again Jules's skill in climbing is of value. The bundles of wood are let down by ropes as was the hay. There is a law to prevent a man cutting trees on his own land except by permission of the forester. The forests are a great protection from wind and storms, and are being cut down too rapidly. Soon the frosts come to open the chestnut burrs; and walnuts, too, must be gathered for winter use. *The Communes are political divisions of Switzerland, corre- sponding to our States. SWITZERLAND. 17 Chestnuts are good whether boiled, roasted, eaten raw or ground into flour and baked in cakes. Before one is quite ready, the winter days have come; and while the warm fire burns merrily within, the fierce storms rage wildly without. Mr. Mace is still with them; and his interesting stories of travel help to pass the time pleasantly; while Jules is carving the pretty articles which he hopes to sell in the great city when spring comes. He is very skillful in carving, and hopes sometime to go to the city, and there obtain a position in a shop. A falling avalanche is an almost daily occurrence but is always to be dreaded lest it bury a bridge, house, or even an entire village. A rumbling noise like thunder accompanies the fall, and rushing to the door, one may see what resembles a waterfall but is really a fall of pounded ice, lasting some three or four minutes. The avalanche is usually caused by melting snow. Mr. Mace is standing at the door one day, when he says: "I wish an avalanche would come now so I could see it. It is just the right kind of a day for a good picture." Jules smiles and answers: "Get your camera here and focus it on yonder point." Wonder- ingly, Mr. Mace obeys, and then Jules steps inside and lifts his rifle from its place on the wall. From 18 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. his position there at his own door he shoots toward the distant point in just the right way to dislodge the mass of snow, which requires only the weight of a straw to set it moving. Mr. Mace is almost too sur- prised and pleased to touch the spring, but remember- ing in time he takes what proves to be one of the finest pictures of a falling avalanche ever obtained. "I suppose/' says Mr. Mace, "if buried in snow up to one's neck, death would not result so long as the head were free." "You are wrong," is the reply. "The weight around the chest would be so great that the lungs could not expand and you would die for lack of breath." The cattle in the barns have been eating hay from the sheds, but there comes a time when the supply is exhausted, and the wild hay must be dug out from the huts where it was stored, and slid down to the place where it is needed. Jules has invited Mr. Mace to accompany him on this excursion, and he, ever ready for a new experi- ence, has readily accepted. Much practice has made him a daring climber, but he is totally unprepared for what is to follow. Jules lashes together three bundles of hay with a stout rope, and directs Mr. Mace to sit on top of the pile and hold on by the rope. Then, before the man SWITZERLAND. 19 ha3 time to realize what is going on, the whole mass of hay is rushing down the slope at a fearful rate, while Jules has the double task of guiding the mass and keeping himself on top. Mr. Mace clings to the rope with an iron grip; while, every moment, he ex- pects to crash, into a snow bank. When the load comes to a stand still in the valley, he is really too nearly paralyzed to disentangle himself from the hay. Two weeks after this, Mr. Mace receives a letter which requires his return to his native country. Jules must drive him down to the city where he has to take the train, in a sledge shaped like one of the seats of a merry-go-round. Mr. Mace is shut in by a wooden frame made to move up and down on hinges. This frame is to protect the feet and lap of the passenger from falling snow. Jules takes his place on the sledge behind, passing the reins over Mr. Mace's shoulder. Then, taking a last look at the little house where he has spent so many pleasant hours, he is driven rapid- ly away. In an English magazine soon after, there appears an interesting account of Swiss life. I want to quote a few sentences, for it gives a truth which Mr. Mace could have discovered only by a thoughtful study of the country. He says: "Switzerland is noted for its well built carriage roads. In a country where every 20 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. inch of the way has to be constructed over impassable obstacles, this is remarkable. A mule path down a sheer precipice is a common example of engineering skill. Few people realize how much labor has gone towards making Switzerland habitable, and how great a struggle is daily being carried on in order to wrest a livelihood from that rugged land." Two years after, a young man seeks entrance at a large factory in Geneva, Switzerland, and having won the heart of the manager by his honest face and skillful carving, is given work. Three years later, Jules has advanced so rapidly that he bids fair to be- come a most valuable assistant. So we may add his name to the long list of young men who by ready hands and willing hearts have won for themselves places of trust and responsibility. ARABIA. 21 HASSAN, THE ARAB HE morning sun has risen high in the heavens as, far away in the distance, a long caravan is seen slowly approaching. Nearer and nearer comes the strange procession, straight toward the welcome shade of the palm trees and the well of cool water. This is the rich Al Kendi, who is going to pitch his tent here at the "Bitter Wells," that his flocks may have fresh pasture. He it is who rides at the head of the caravan upon a beautiful Arabian horse. His sharp-pointed lance gleams in the sunlight and shows by the manner in which it is held to what tribe its owner belongs. A silver mounted gun, a sabre, and a pistol are near at hand, for enemies are not rare in this desert country. As he leaps to the ground and stands ready to di- rect the pitching of the tent, he makes a striking pic- ture in his loose cotton gown which, reaches to the ankles. A cloth of wide brown and white stripes hangs gracefully from his shoulders. The fringes of the bright yellow silk head-dress are thrown back, as he no longer needs protection for his eyes. A cord of 22 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. twisted hair bound about the head holds the head- dress securely. On his feet are sandals of a simple pattern. He seems a trifle undersized, but he is straight and well formed. From the lines marking his dark face, together with his dignified bearing, we try to read his character, and rightly judge him to be serious, polite, calm, but never quarrelsome. Though yesterday he was very angry with the arrogant Hamid, yet he did not once raise his voice; though deep down in his heart he was planning re- ARABIA. 23 venge with which to overtake his enemy on the morrow. By nature physically strong and brave, he, like others of his race, shows a tendency to cruelty, said to be due to the milk and flesh of the camel, which is used so commonly for food. Very rapidly the tent rises. It is a large affair; to make it required sixteen pieces of cloth, each piece being forty cubits* long and two cubits wide. A scar- let carpet is hung to separate the men's part from that of the women. For furniture there are a num- ber of cushions filled with garments to be used as beds, and other cushions of tanned antelope skin, contain- ing wool, to be used to lean against. The woolen grain sacks, the money sacks, and sacks for jewels are carefully unloaded, and the tent is ready to be occupied. Al Kendi has four wives, each of whom has four sons, who have two wives and a son apiece; so you see it is a large family. There are four servants, eight negroes, seven valuable horses, two common ones, six asses, and two greyhounds also to be sheltered. Such an establishment would require a great sup- ply of food. There are six loads of corn, twelve loads of barley, eight of dates, fifteen ox skins of water, *A cubit is equal to about 18 inches. 24 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. twelve sheep skins of butter, four deer skins of honey, gunpowder, etc. Al Kendi has depots of suppHes in various places, for he can carry supplies for only a limited time. He will stay here only two or three weeks as the pasturage will soon be exhausted, for there is a flock of at least eight thousand sheep, besides five camels and the ten goats which lead the sheep. Everyone takes an especial interest in little Hassan, who is a strong lad fast growing to be like his grandfather. His mother is that woman who wears a dark blue shawl thrown over her head. It falls at the back in .graceful folds to the feet. Her arms are heavily loaded with bracelets, and on her ankles are circlets of blue glass and of copper. Even though this work of erecting the tent is done quickly and easily by the many skillful hands, yet the day is filled with the duties pertaining to a new camping place. As the sun casts its last red rays over the sultry camp, a slight breeze springs up, and with the lengthening shadows, there arises all over the camp the bustle pertaining to the preparation of the one solid meal for the day. The servants will bake some thin cakes in the open oven. There will be mutton (always boiled) or camel's flesh, and possi- bly dates and fresh fruits. ARABIA. 25 After the meal is eaten the servant brings a basin of water in which her master washes his hands, and as she leaves the tent a second servant passes about with a covered censer of burning incense, until the hands and clothing of all are perfumed by the sweet odor. Young Hassan runs away to caress a beautiful black horse that is soon to become his own. Has not his grandfather said so ? Should poverty come to the family, this Arab steed would be the last possession 26 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. with which to part. For him there are beautiful trappings of morocco embroidered in gold and silver. Not all Arabian horses are black. Some are sorrel, but the greater number are gray. I once saw a beautiful American horse compared and tested with an Arab steed. Each was a worthy- representative of its kind. The American horse easily won in the test for swiftness, but in beauty of form, intelligence, or even endurance, he was inferior to the other, who could in case of need carry his master at a canter from twenty-four to forty-eight hours, and that without water. As to intelligence, he seemed to understand everything. He turned at a light pressure of the knee and needed no bridle, while stirrups are a thing unknown. Tonight Hassan rubs the hoofs of his favorite with grease, for the day's journey has tended to crack the shoeless hoofs, and with his own hands he pre- pares a supper of barley and dates. He wants his horse to outrun even his grandfather's own priceless steed, and so dates will form a portion of the meal for they seem to strengthen the wind. No one but himself ever feeds his beloved horse, and he chooses the hay and measures the drinking water more care- fully than his mother oversees his own meals. Now Hassan calls his own pet greyhound to a ARABIA. 27 supper of milk and dates. This dainty creature will not drink from a dirty dish nor taste milk which has been allowed to touch the fingers. Hassan adjusts a blanket comfortably about the greyhound, for it is a cool night, and such a delicate creature requires some protection from the cold. The thin nose of the hound is laid in the boy's hand with perfect confidence, and he thinks as he strokes the large forehead that nothing would persuade him to sell his pet. ~ Once when Al Kendi had in his possession three young greyhounds, it was remarkable how many friends, previously unknown, appeared in the hope of obtaining a puppy as a gift. When Hassan's dog was only three months old he taught him to chase jerboas*, then to catch a hare, and now it is quite time to learn to chase a gazellet. When a dog is a year old his education should be com- pleted so that he may be ready to hunt with his master. The sun slowly sinks below the horizon, the stars come out, and presently the tent is wrapped in slum- *A jerboa, or "jumping mouse," is a small animal having the hind legs longer than the front ones. tA gazelle is a small antelope, noted for the soft expression of its large, dark eyes. 28 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. ber, while the despised watch dogs guard the Hves and property entrusted to their care. The greyhound lies close beside his young mas- ter and shares with him the comforts of a night's rest. The morrow proves to be an eventful day. First there is the falcon, which is owned of only the very wealthy. How do you suppose they caught the fal- con? By a very clever trick. They placed a tame pigeon under a net,and then everyone hid from sight waiting for the wild falcon which had been seen several times of late. When the falcon caught sight of the pigeon he lost no time in swoop- ing down upon his prey; but his claws be- came entangled in the meshes of the net and his captors rushed out to hold him. Then they slipped a hood over his head, chained him to a perch, and thus he entered upon days of weary captivity. At first the bird was almost unmanageable with rage, and his harsh, angry cries ARABIA. • 29 rent the air unceasingly. Then followed a spell of sullen silence, and then began the first efforts toward taming him. Every day Al Kendi is accustomed to remove the hood f roni the bird's head while he talks to his captive, that the human voice may become a familiar sound. To-day a new lesson is to be taught the falcon and Hassan is there to see it. A servant brings out a hare and fastens it by a cord, that it may run about with- out getting away. Then the falcon is brought out, and someone removes the hood. For a moment the bird stands blinking in the strong light, then a move- ment from the hare attracts his attention. There is a sudden rushing of wings and the falcon has risen above the heads of all. For an instant he remains poised in the air, and then with a sudden swoop de- scends upon the luckless hare-. Some one hastens to give the bird a portion of the prey he has secured. This lesson will have to be repeated day after day until he has learned to await his portion of the gains without attempting to devour it at once. Scarcely is the lesson over, before in the distance is seen an approaching caravan. Alarm is felt at first, and suspense, until the question is settled w;hether it bring friend or foe. While the riders are yet like dots in the distance, Al Kendi decides they are not enemies; 30 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. a few moments more and he pronounces them to be members of his own tribe. Prolonged and elaborate salutations pass between host and guests, after which the visitors are escorted to a small reception tent made comfortable with rugs and traveling cushions. A servant brings in a cov- ered censer, and incense is burned in honor of the guests. Coffee is ordered. The servant must roast the grains and pound them before the coffee can be boiled, so there will be plenty of time for conversa- tion before it is brought in. Al Kendi is in the habit of ordering his coffee to be thus prepared whenever he may desire it, and he has a special servant whose duty it is to attend to this work. These visitors are taking a flock of sheep and some camels to the nearest town, where they hope also to sell the wool and ostrich feathers they are car- rying. They will return with a supply of grain and some new weapons. The Sheik will divide the profits among the men of his tribe with justice and equity, as it is his duty to do. The Sheik has sent a message to Al Kendi re- questing that he join the tribe as soon as convenient, as his presence is needed in a matter of great im- portance. While the message is being delivered, gusts of hot ARABIA. 3v wind have been blowing, and a violet hue is deepening on the horizon. A servant hurriedly comes into the tent and tells of the danger that threatens. All is confusion, as men and beasts seek shelter from the dreaded sirocco*. Soon it becomes quite dark, al- though there is no sand flying to dim the sun. The danger is from the burning heat that follows. One's only hope is to bury the face in the blankets and breathe the air that is under them until the blasting heat is passed, as it will be in a few ter- rible moments. An over- powering weakness i s counted one of the worst effects of the sirocco. It makes the least exertion impossible, but night will have brought relief, and early in the morning the visitors must depart. Rising to see the caravan depart, Hassan is in time to help gather locusts. For the great ruin which they cause to all vegetation, the locusts are punished; as they, in turn, are eaten by all animals. Being too *A periodical, warm, south wind. 32 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. heavy for flight they are easily caught. Red locusts are better to eat than green ones. They are caught in the morning when their wings are heavy with dew and when they are dulled by the cold. A servant will boil them and pull off the hopping legs. When they are served to you, you should take each locust by the wings and dip him in salt. You will find him a de- licious morsel, quite like a vegetable in taste. It is now the middle of summer, the time when the ostrich is less powerful, and, therefore, the best time for hunting him. For a week the horses have been carefully trained in preparation for this coming exertion. To-day a party is to start on a hunting expedition. Hassan wants to go, but he is not allowed to do so, and must be content with hearing about it all when the hunters return. The hunters are five Arabs, each lightly clothed, and armed with a stick four or five feet long that is very heavy at one end. A baggage camel is loaded with the necessary provisions. Scouts are sent ahead to locate a flock. When the birds are sighted, one re- mains to mark the place while the others return to bring the hunters. The whole company approaches as near as they dare. The baggage is left and the horsemen advance ARABIA. 33 and surround the ostrich. When they have taken their station, a servant is sent on to alarm the ostrich. Becoming frightened, the bird runs about the circle until exhausted. Then he is despatched by a blow on the bald spot of the head. The skin is removed without injuring the feath- ers and salt is sprinkled over the carcass, but the fat is boiled and poured into bags. Returning to the bag- gage, all rest for forty-eight hours before starting homeward. . If it were in November or January they would search for the nest with the hope of shooting an os- trich on the eggs. If they chanced to find the nest deserted, they would dig a hole on either side of the nest. In each hole they would station a man so hid- den that only the barrel of his gun would protrude. Should the female return first she would meet her death, and the male, when he came to investigate, would meet a similar fate. On the other hand, if the female became alarmed when she returned to her nest, she would run to meet the male and communicate to him her fears, where- upon he would treat her alarm as groundless and in- sist upon investigating the suspected ground, and meet a severe punishment for doubting the prudence of his mate. 34 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. The home life of the ostrich is very interesting. His four or five wives lay eggs in a common nest un- til there are thirty or more eggs inside and as many more scattered about to be used as food for the young birds. The father assumes chief charge of the nest and sits on the eggs at night. The work is shared during the day, it being necessary that one be always near to protect the eggs, al- though the heat of the sun could do all the hatching. It is the fath- er bird who assists the young ones in chipping the shell, and it is he who fights for the de- fense of the chicks, while the mother takes care of herself only. A male ostrich weighs three hundred pounds and is about eight feet high. He possesses the most val- uable feathers. When not occupied in laying eggs, the birds roam in companies of thirty or forty and usually together with antelopes or gazelles. Our hunters would like nothing better than an ARABIA. 35 exciting chase after a company of gazelles, but it is summer and not so good a season for that sport as winter, when the dampness of the sand retards the gazelles. The hounds in full chase after four or five hun- dred gazelles, would furnish a form of excitement very dear to the heart of an Arab hunter. But slowly the hunters retrace their steps and find the camp in a state of confusion. Since pastur- age has become so scarce it has been decided that a move is necessary. Mindful of the wishes of the Sheik, our Al Kendi turns his caravan eastward. Traveling by starlight and resting when the heat of the midday sun becomes intolerable, the caravan moves onward. Now we see how admirably adapted the camel is for desert travel. Six days in summer and ten in winter is the limit of his ability to do without water, but he can travel five or six miles an hour during fif- teen hours every day for a week. Then, too, he is easily fed — can live on. thorns, dried grass, or cacti. When extra hard work is to be done, he is given a pound paste ball of barley. The milk of the camel is good to drink, although no kind of butter or cheese can be made from it. The wool is made into cloth for wearing and for tents, and 36 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. the flesh is eaten, although it is poor and rather taste- less. The broad, spreading hoofs support the camel on the soft sands, where a slender hoof would make progress difficult. While he would not throw you off, neither would he stop if you were to fall off, and he never fails to show his objections to your mounting by groans and efforts to bite. The ordinary color is red- dish brown, but an occasional animal is gray or almost white. A dromedary is only a high bred camel; the number of humps has nothing to do with his being called a dromedary. A saddle is placed on the hump, a halter is ad- justed for a rein, a stout stick is secured for a whip, and the so called "ship of the desert" is ready to start. As the caravan passes over sandy soil, the desert scorpion becomes annoying. Its reddish body, al- though only a quarter of an inch long, seems all claws, and tail. The sting leaves a pain like a sharp prick, lasting about an hour. A buzzard now and then is seen crossing the blue sky far over head; he is waiting for the refuse from the caravan. The strong wing bones that support this bird so high in the air are used for ornamental purposes in place of the ivory which they so closely resemble. On the fourth day, the tired travelers see in the ARABIA. 37 distance a cluster of tents and the shining leaves of the date palms. Once more they camp, and this time the tent of Al Kendi is pitched next to that of the aged Sheik Hakem. This old Sheik was chosen, to govern the tribe when he was a much younger man than he is now. Al- though a man of influ- ence, he does not pos- sess absolute power. He acts as judge in cases of dispute, or measures out punish- ment to the evil-doer. All the men are herdsmen by occupa- tion, except the far- riers who are also smiths. These are supported by the tribe and are not required to engage in warfare. 38 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. Slavery is quite common among the Arabs. On important occasions, such as a marriage, or a death in the family, the day is marked by the freeing of a slave. Each tribe controls a certain territory. When a stranger enters this land he must pay tribute, in re- turn for which he receives safe passage to the terri- tory of the next tribe, where a second tribute is demanded. Although hospitable and charitable, these Arabs feel no responsibility after a guest has departed, and may overtake and rob one who has but recently been under their protection, while to rob an enemy is praise-worthy. We are unable to ascertain just what was the im- portant business that required Al Kendi's presence. Doubtless it had something to do with the division of money received from the sale of the last flock cf sheep. But we have already overstayed our time, ard must be content with this glimpse of desert life. We doubt not that Al Kendi will again leave the tribe and resume the wandering life. Hassan will grow to be like his father and like his father's father — ^Al Kendi; proud in the possession of a flock of sheep, a noble steed, and a swift greyhound. AFRICA 39 AFRICA KONGO E ARE standing today on the banks of the Nile, where is assembled a strange company of people to witness an important ceremony. About the 10th of last June, the waters of the Nile began to rise. At first the river was filthy and green with the decayed vegetation that was being washed down from the mountains by heavy rains. As the volume of water increased, the river became pure; and last week, which was the first week in October, there came a sudden flood which from now on will gradually subside until next June. In former years a beautiful maiden was cast into the seething waters to please the gods and insure an abundant harvest; but the custom has changed, and today a doll will symbolize the sacrifice. The rate of land tax has gradually increased since June, the value of the land being greater when water is abundant. Yesterday the irrigating ditches were 40 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. opened, and agriculture will soon be possible. So very slowly does the water soak through the land that the wells do not often fill until the waters have begun to recede. There is a rich mud left by the subsiding waters, which dries in the hot sun and is carried in cakes to the distant fields where it is needed. In the life about us the negro seems to be an im- portant factor, but to see him in his native home, we must go far inland where few white men have ven- tured. For days we force our boat up stream against the descending current, only to find, when we reach the Nubian Nile, that a rocky barrier blocks our course. As we stop in despair, some half naked negroes ap- pear on the shore, seeming by their strange gestures to be offering assistance. We go to them, and a bar- gain is quickly made with the "cataract men," who successfully tow our boat over the difficult places. Six cataracts bar our passage and six times we are towed by the cataract men, but between these places the water is calm and easily navigated. Finally we are rewarded by seeing on the shore a cluster of huts, and we know that we have at last reached the home of Kongo, the Negro boy. A thick hedge surrounds the village of tiny huts. The circular walls are formed by stout poles driven AFRICA. 41 into the ground. A roof of rushes rests on the wall and tapers like an umbrella towards a center pole where it is secured. Kongo is in the midst of a party of returned hunters, and seems to be actively engaged in prepara- tions for a feast. The costume of all seems to be a slight drapery of leaves hung from a slender waist cloth. In a neighboring tribe the people wear two long tails of some wild animal dragging down behind 42 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. them, a style of dress which is as awkward as it is peculiar. What is Kongo doing? Yes, it is butter that he has, but he is rubbing it over his body; and now he is actually rolling himself in a heap of ashes, until he emerges covered with a coat of gray that will afford protection from the sun. This done, he proceeds to kindle a fire. He uses a block of hard wood in which a small hollow place has been made, and a stick that will just fit into the holes. Now he twirls the stick around and around until enough heat has been made by the friction to set fire to some wisps of grass. There is an abundance of meat to-day, and a de- lecious stew will be served in one common dish. All day a woman has been grinding corn. Plenty of dirt is mixed with the meal that covers the flat stone, but the corn cakes baked in the ashes are a very welcome addition to the meal. Kongo and the others are eager- ly dipping their hands into the dish of stew; and with what a look of satisfaction does he lick his fingers be- fore thrusting his hand again into the stew ! Each man has his hair dressed according to his own taste, but the prevailing custom seems to be a multitude of knobs formed with gum, clay, or grease, and stiffened with strings of bark cloth. This gro- tesque decoration is never undone, but is increased AFRICA. 43 year after year and never reaches a state of comple- tion. The front teeth have been filed to sharp points. The body is covered with tattooed figures which, ap- pearing on the face, sadly disfigure features that would otherwise be handsome. The women wear a large ring through the upper lip. This they call the "Pelele." In other tribes the women wear a circular plate of metal which distends the lip so that it hangs down to the chin, while bits of straw thrust through the nostrils increase the start- ling effect. The meal being over, it is quite evident that an important ceremony is about to take place. The chief is about to perform the ceremony of "blood-brother- hood" with the strange looking man from the Dinka tribe. The stranger wears a head dress of waving ostrich plumes. His long, slender legs somehow call to your mind the form of a great stork; but the like- ness would be more complete were you to see this Dinka man standing motionless among the tall grasses on one leg, while the foot of the other is resting just above the knee of the leg he is using. He is able to stand in this trying position for hours. All the dark forms are seated about the chief actors. A third man produces a sharp instrument with which he pricks the arm of his chief and pro- 44 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. duces a similar wound on the arm of the Dinka man. As the arms are being rubbed together the two streams of blood mingle, and henceforth the men are as brothers. So many days have been spent in hunting, that other duties have been neglected, and tomorrow we see a very busy company. Kongo's father is digging out a tree trunk for a canoe. Another man is making a signal drum by fitting a skin over the end of a hol- low stump. This drum will call the people together in times of sudden danger, but more frequently will it be used to transmit messages to places within reach of its deep tones. Three men are engaged in clearing the ground for a garden. Each man climbs a tree and cuts down enough small branches to cover the ground beneath him. When the proposed garden is covered, the branches are set on fire, and all the obstructing under- growth is burned off. After a rain, a rough hoe will be used to break the soil, and the seed will be planted. Very little time is spent in such peaceful occupa- tions. Many days must be occupied in hunting for food, or to kill the animals that threaten to destroy life and property. We who have seen the elephant only when he is closely guarded and carefully con- fined, can hardly realize that in this portion of Africa AFRICA. 45 the elephant is free. He is Hable to make an unwel- come visit to the cane fields, tramp about, and then go away before the owner of the field has been in- formed of the damage done. The great beasts are fast being killed off for their valuable tusks of ivory; and some writers say it w 11 be a good thing for Africa when the last tusk has been sold, for so long as the trade in ivory lasts, little at- tention will be paid to the other resources of the country. In a few days a hunting party is organized, and Kongo, as usual, is first to be counted among those who start in pursuit of a certain destructive elephant that has twice visited his father's cane fields. A journey of several days into the dense jungle brings the men to a broad stream of water, and cer- tain tracks indicate this to be a favorite drinking place of elephants. Hoping the animal will return, the men dig a deep pit and cunningly cover it with branches. Now, an elephant has a division in his stomach which will hold ten gallons of water, to be forced up into his trunk at will; so it is often several days before he again seeks water. The pit being completed, the men take refuge in trees to wait for their victim. Not until the next day are they rewarded by the sound of 46 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. crashing branches and a heavy tread approaching the stream, but, alas ! on the opposite bank, while despair enters the heart of each hunter. A low note from the mouth of the great beast in- dicates his extreme thirst and discomfort; but at sight of water, he blows a shrill note through his trunk to show his pleasure. Although possessing keen scent and acute hearing, he is unconscious of the enraged hunters who are watching him. His thirst being satisfied, the elephant comes wading out into mid stream until the water reaches his back; then, as he swims directly towards the men, they see only his uplifted trunk, so deeply does he swim. Slowly and heavily his dripping body gains the bank, and immediately a strange rage seems to have seized him. An angry roar issues from his throat; and as he tears up the young trees, he shows himself to be a rogue elephant. When an elephant becomes a nuisance to a herd on account of his vicious and de- structive habits, he is expelled from the herd and roams by himself, a fierce and dangerous creature to meet. Kongo, seeing a chance to attract the rogue's at- tention to himself, and thus cause him to cross the pit, has made a slight movement which reaches the ear of the beast, who, however, misses the pit by a AFRICA. 47 foot only, and comes at the tree in an angry rage. He tears at the tree with his tusks; but it is too strong, and Kongo does not fall from his refuge, as he began to fear he must do. Now Kongo's father, fearing for his son's life, shouts to divert the beast's attention. This attempt is so successful that, with a fresh roar the beast turns about. With trunk held high out of danger, for in- stinct has taught him to guard his trunk lest he be powerless to reach food, he charges with gleaming tusks straight across the pit, and falls into the trap set for him, where all his struggles avail him nothing. When he becomes exhausted, some well directed ar- rows put an end to his struggles. The party proving too small to carry home as much meat as is needed, it is decided that two men be left to guard the carcass, while the others return for reinforcements. First,however, the tusks are removed, and being somewhat larger than the average, are esti- LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. mated to weigh close to thirty pounds. They are so closely imbedded in the upper jaw that they can be detached only by the aid of a saw. The ivory seems valuable, but that can be told only by the experienced eye, for a tiny spot in the end might indicate a split extending the entire length of the tusk and rendering it worthless. Carefully the tusks are wrapped, that injury may not befall the precious ivory, and the hunters depart, leaving Kongo and his father on guard. As night approaches they build a bright fire and prepare to spend the night in the trees. Kongo may have been sleeping an hour, when he is awakened by a low moan which gradually increases in power to a distant thunder. Six times this roar breaks the still- ness, each ~time increasing in power and then dying away. Suddenly from the right a deeper and heavier roar is heard, answering the first; and even brave Kongo shakes in his safe resting place as the lion's answer is heard. Peeping down past the dull fire, he tries to distinguish the form of a lion, but the tawny color is not easily noted by day, and is quite invisible by night. Silence again reigns, and Kongo falls asleep, not to wake until daybreak. The men are about to de- scend for breakfast when they are arrested by the AFRICA. 49 sound of breaking twigs, and there appears a lioness accompanied by her two cubs. She would surely measure eleven or twelve feet from nose to tip of tail, and at least three and a half feet from foot to shoul- der. In five hundred pounds, which she probably weighs, is combined, in comparatively small compass, great strength with grace and nimbleness. She could easily drag off a man, and possibly an ox. A lion has been known to defeat an elephant in battle, and Kongo has heard how two hundred fifty men were once put to flight by an enraged lioness. A peculiar change comes over the creature. She crouches close to the ground as, with her gleaming eyes fixed on the thicket beyond, she pauses for a spring. The graceful limbs are drawn together, and with marvelous power the tawny creature leaps full thirty feet into the thicket, her eyes tightly closed. A roar of anger tells of an escaped prey, and she bounds away in pursuit, leaving her two bewildered cubs. Almost immediately there appears a heavy, yellow maned lion, who is no doubt the father of these deserted children. He seems to understand the situa- tion, and with his mane rising in anger, he calls the cubs, and together they trot off after the lioness. A very young cub is about as large as a full grown cat. Although their eyes are open, the children are 50 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. helpless for several weeks, but they are faithfully pro- tected by their father and mother. The father makes a lair for himself within call, for he seems to be an- noyed by the demands of a restless family and prefers to live by him- self, although he will hasten to their defense. Next evening just at twilight a leopard comes prowling around the place. He is not seeking the carcass of the elephant, for he will eat no meat that he himself has not killed. But let us see what has become of the party whose return Kongo is so patiently awaiting. We find they have traveled all day, and when night comes the weary men throw themselves down by the bright fire to eat their supper and to sleep. Three hours later a scream of pain from one AFRICA. 51 of 'the men brings the company to their feet in time to see a dark form bound past them into the forest. The fire had burned low, and the man, who had placed his head toward the fire, was only partly within the circle of light. A cowardly hyena had persistently followed them all day, and when the fire burned low, had snatched at the foot of the unsuspecting sleeper as he lay in the shadow. The cruel jaws have done their work, and the poor fellow will never walk again. The remainder of the journey is without accident, and several important additions are made to the load. The men are too tired to talk, and the silence is unbroken save for the occasional interruption caused by the flight of a bird over head. Perhaps Gozo, be- ing young and strong, is more often tempted to make a chance shot. He is counted a fair marksman, and when he spied a lark soaring high over head he touched the man just in front, saying: "See me shoot the lark." "Not while he flies so high," was the answer. "He is far out of range." Gozo must have realized this to be true, for the arrow rested in his bow while the young marksman covered the tiny spot barely visible against the deep blue of the sky. The little band gathered about him. Interest was written on the face of one, scorn on the face of another, while a 52 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. third showed the tolerant indulgence that a master of an art shows to an aspiring beginner. And while the dark faces were thus regarding the lark, the tiny speck grew larger and larger until it was almost within range. Then, when it seemed so near death, it rested in the air just out of reach; and when Gozo was about to turn away in anger, the bird swooped down and seized a small prize and was back again high above danger, before Gozo could take aim. The laugh of the men did not help to quiet Gozo's nerves. Still his arrow pointed at the tantalizing bird, and when the swift trick was about to be re- peated he sent his arrow, swift and straight, toward the approaching mark. But his aim had been too hurried, and again his failure brought ridicule from his companions. Stamping his foot with anger, he snatched a second arrow, fitted it mto the bow, and waited. Fortune favored him, and this shot was successful. It was several hours after this that the large, fierce-looking man who led the march stopped sud- denly, upon hearing a strange cry like "kulu, kulu," in the branches overhead. "It is a kulu bird," he said, and straightway all eyes were directed towards a gray plantain bird which, being unable to fly, save from tree to tree, was moving so rapidly from branch to AFRICA. 53 branch as to make quite a troublesome mark. The great Negro wanted the wing of a plantain bird to wear in his hair, as a token that he had killed a man in battle, so the "kulu" bird was brought to earth. Soon after this, as the party were on a slight ele- vation, they saw before them a laughable sight in the hollow beyond. A whydah finch was proudly strut- ting up and down, ruffling his beautiful plumage in the sunlight, that its rich colors might catch the gleam of the sunbeams, to dazzle the eyes of his six plainly attired wives, who were looking on in undis- guised admiration. As he awkwardly dragged his heavy tail feathers on the ground behind him, I have no doubt that each poor wife was wishing fate had destined her to be such an object of beauty, instead of a little brown wife. Becoming alarmed by the approaching party, the six plain little creatures rose lightly into the air and were instantly safe; while the object of their admira- tion, being weighted down by his heavy plumage, was unable to escape. Verily, "pride goeth before a fall." While they were dealing death to the unfortunate whydah finch, Gozo discovered a weaver bird's nest at the end of the branch of a thorn tree. It was so placed because its wise little weaver knew that no large enemy would venture out on so slender a branch. 54 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. The bird would have made a long, narrow entrance, if she had not placed her home so near a hornet's nest, for no hawk would brave the dangers of a swarm of hornets. It is only man who is the enemy against whom neither strength of beasts nor wiles of birds can prevail. Had you or I been a member of this company, we might have looked for monkeys and wondered why none are to be seen, when the books say this is their home. Gozo knows they are all about him; he feels their bright eyes peering at him from the branches, but they are cunningly hidden, and such ignorant people as you or I would never have guessed their existence, A wise student has discovered that the creatures living in the woods all day have fine skins and smooth hair, while those that seek their prey by night have a thick coat and eyes formed to admit a large pencil of light. All hardships must come to an end, and so in the course of time the village is reached. Their arrival has been eagerly awaited by the villagers, who now crowd about and ask innumerable questions concern- ing the result of the hunt. The ivory is carefully unwrapped, and all stand breathlessly expectant, while an old man of the village examines it. He is AFRICA. 55 accorded to be the best judge of ivory in the village, and there is a great murmur of relief when he finally pronounces it to be perfectly sound and of great value. Now a relief party must be organized to return for the patient Kongo and his father. Gozo will lead them to the spot, and they will bring back to the vil- lage the great car- cass of the ele- phant. Five days after his return, Kongo and a party of four come upon a rhi- noceros fast asleepo Fortunately a rhi- noceros roams sing- ly, or with only his mate ; a herd of such fierce creatures would be an unwelcome sight. Now, the men want the horns, and in spite of danger they creep up until they can strike a point just back of the shoulder. A shower of arrows brings the rhinoceros to his feet, though many of the arrows fail to pene- trate his tough hide. However, some of the shots reach the lungs, and he is visibly weakened. A 56 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. second shower of arrows does the work, and mad- dened and bhnded, the great creature sinks to the earth. The horns are eagerly secured, for they are solid. The surface is white and smooth, a result of friction in the bushes. They are easily detached, for they grow only to the skin; but on the skull, just under the base of the horns, is a bunch on which rests the weight of the horns; an arrangement which prevents a shock to the brain when the animal charges. The upper lip, which overhangs the lower, is pointed, that he may more easily strip the leaves from the branches. His small eyes, though they seemed so bright, were not able to see far. I used to confuse the rhinoceros with the hippo- potamus or river horse, but now I know they are very different. The hippopotamus is a water animal, and loves to lie buried in the water, showing only a nar- row line from ears to nose. He is hunted for the four lower teeth that are a good substitute for ivory, and the natives think his flesh good to eat. A trap is set in such a way that when the hippopotamus steps on a certain spring a heavy spear drops upon him. Kongo has proven himself brave, but he is often very imprudent. Coming to a stream of water one day, he decided he would like to take a bath, and be- ing joined by his companion, both laid down their AFRICA. 57 weapons. Kongo, who was the quickest, was first to plunge into the water, right in front of the open jaws of an ugly crocodile, who had been lying in wait for just such a chance as this. With a yell of terror, Kongo seized a strong branch that hung down into the water and drew himself out of reach of the dis- appointed crocodile. Kongo's companion sent an ar- row towards the eyes of the creature, but he missed his mark. All portions of a crocodile are protected by a 58 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. tough, leathery skin, marked like shingles, so that you may hope to kill only by shooting through the eyes, or by reaching the other vulnerable spot, which is in the shoulder. Now, Kongo should have known better than to jump into the water, without first looking for croco- diles, for one might have been sleepily basking on the bank. Many persons have been thrown into the water by a stroke of the powerful tail, and dragged away to be devoured. Although only the lower jaw is mova- ble, certainly good use is made of what motion there is. Kongo found some crocodile eggs that had been left to hatch in the sun, although the mother was probably watching them while sunning herself on the bank. I must not forget to tell you how Kongo found some wild bees. When he found them swarming, he placed a hollow log up in the branches where the bees were. A few months after, he built a fire under the trees. Then he lowered the log over the fire, smoked out the bees, and took the honey for himself. Near Kongo's village is a gray mound, thirty feet high, which covers the storehouse of a swarm of white ants. The eggs are all laid by the queen, who is fed and carefully guarded by her faithful attendants, who block up the entrance to her dome-shaped chamber if AFRICA. 59 danger threatens. The workers wear pincers, and are thus distinguished from the others. I suppose you have concluded by this time that Kongo's Hf e is one long story of adventure and suc- cessful hunting, with now and then a thrilling escape from death, which only adds an element of excitement to his existence. I wonder what you would think if you were to see that dark streak moving along the ground straight toward Kongo's hut. Now, Kongo, like any boy, is on hand if there is anything to be seen, and he knows that the advancing line is a column of soldier ants, several yards long. He has often been bitten by them, and remembers how their pincers remained in the flesh to cause pain long after the ant had been killed. There is only one thing to be done to check the army. Quickly calling for help, he lights a torch, and when the column meets the flaming obstacle their march is checked, they slightly alter their course, and pass by on the other side. So the bright eyes of a boy are of some use, even in a wild African jungle. Bright as he is, Kongo often gets into some very disagreable situations. For example : he once chanced to brush against an overhanging branch in which some red ants had built their nest. Down they came, swarming upon his head and shoulders until he danced 60 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. with pain. Half wild with suffering, he ran to a pool of water, which chanced to be near, and plunged in. He had reason to remember this encounter for a long time. The poor animals suffer from a worse torment than either ant, or snake, or preying lion. It is the tse-tse fly, which wars against horses and cattle alone. There is no cure for the bite of this fly, and what makes help doubly difficult is the fact that eight or nine days may pass before a cow shows signs of hav- ing been bitten. Then sickness, weakness, blindness, and death follow in rapid succession. We have naturally been thinking only of the oc- cupation and adventures that interest Kongo, but the women of the village are seldom idle. There are many duties connected with the household life. When a bunch of bananas is brought to the hut they must be made into the much needed banana flour. The green bananas can be roasted, and the members of any African family are very fond of that sort of wine that is made from the juice of the flower bud. When this work is done, there are peach trees to be pruned, fields of millet that require the kind of rude care that the women can give, Indian corn to be planted or hoed, sweet potatoes to be dug. There are AFRICA. 61 ^ limes* to be picked, and ground nuts to be gathered. In fact, these African women have many duties, which more than make up for the simplicity of their house- keeping. Near the banks of the Nile grows the papyrus reed, a long smooth stem three to six feet long. Years before paper was invented, people unrolled this stem and used the sheet thus obtained for writing pur- poses. Kongo and his people do not often need pa- pyrus for writing, but he twists it into ropes, and his mother cooks the roots. Let us take a farewell look at Kongo as he leans against the baobab tree; and as we turn again to our own country, may the picture of this wild region re- main as clear as it is to-day. Let us hope that the many resources of Africa may be opened up and developed, as much for the benefit of the Negro as for the sake of other conti- nents. Sometime Africa must take the place among the continents that is hers by right of natural advantages. *A fruit resembling the lemon, but smaller and more highly acid. 62 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. ESKIMO KUDLU LOSE to the shore of a bay that indents the Arctic coast, is a tiny hut, the home of an Eskimo called Narmick, his wife Sassumack, and their son Kudlu. By their features, they clearly show that they belong to the Mongolian* race. They call themselves "Innuit," a name meaning "men," or "the people," while the name Eskimo that we have given them, sig- nifies "eaters of raw flesh." Narmick is short, but well built. His black hair lies straight over his forehead. Sassumack wears her hair in a stiff tuft which rises straight up from the crown of her head. Both wear short, scant trousers of deer skin or seal skin, and jackets of the same ma- terial, which have to be drawn over the head, there being no front opening. The hood on Sassumack's jacket is larger, to provide for the carrying of a baby. On the feet are shoes, nicely made and fitting per- *To the Mongolian race belong also the Chinese and Japanese. GREENLAND. 63 f ectly. On a cold hunt, a pair of fur stockings afford additional warmth to the feet. To be sure, the shoes are often soaked with water, and, when dried, become stiff and uncomfortable; but then Sassumack takes them in charge, and renders them pliable by means of a thorough chewing. Her strong, white teeth are characteristic of her race. The teeth of an old woman become worn to mere stumps with such constant use. Perhaps you have noticed that the upper part of Narmick's body is especially strong, while his lower limbs do not corre- spond in either strength or develop- ment. This is doubt- less because he spends so much time in a cramped po- sition in his kyack. Kudlu assisted his father in making this little home in which we find them living. The walls are of snow so laid as to form a dome measuring twelve feet 64 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. in diameter and eight in height. A row of smaller huts forms a hallway through which you would have to crawl on hands and knees in order to reach the liv- ing room. When once you have succeeded in reach- ing this living room, you find a slight depression in the floor near the entrance. This forms the front hall, where you are expected to pause and remove the snow from your clothing. The raised portion is the parlor and kitchen in one. The floor is covered with a carpet of skins. Above the doorway is a tiny win- dow, where a small slab of ice or a piece of transpar- ent parchment serves for glass. Above the window is a tiny ventilating hole, which is necessary because of the excessive heat within. The heat for comfort and also for cooking is fur- nished by a small lamp, made from a piece of rock hollowed out to form a saucer in the shape of a half moon. On the rounded side, which is deeper, rests a wick of dried moss. A lump of blubber, hanging over the lamp, melts with the heat, and dripping into the saucer feeds the wick. Any story of Eskimo life must be a story of hunt- ing and fishing. There is so little plant life that an Eskimo depends almost entirely for food upon the meat he can obtain. Kudlu is a boy of thirteen, but he is almost as GREENLAND. 65 skillful as his father in the management of a kyack, and in harpoon throwing. When we first see him, he is on his way down to the shore with his kyack. It bids fair to be a stormy day, so he draws on a rain coat of waterproof parch- ment, and, to make it quite watertight, he laces it to the hole in the boat where he sits. Then he takes his paddle and pushes away from shore. Thus equipped, he can cover six miles an hour; and should he be up- set, he can right himself without the paddle by the 66 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. aid of his throwing stick, or even by the means of one strong arm. Just now Kudlu is paddhng slowly, looking in- tently for fish; but bigger game is to be his to-day. For three hours of hard work he has obtained only a few fish, when away to his right he sees a slight dis- turbance in the water, which may mean a whale. Turning his kyack quickly in that direction, he reach- es the spot; but the whale has finished blowing, and, becoming alarmed, has disappeared. Kudlu frowns angrily, for now he cannot tell where the whale is likely to reappear. At a venture he paddles straight out to sea, and he is rewarded by a sight of the whale a short distance in front of him rising to blow. Quick- ly, Kudlu prepares his harpoon, raises it above his head, and with sure aim, sends it deep into the body of the whale. Plunging so violently as to lash the water into foaming waves, the whale sinks from sight, trying to ease the agony of the cruel point. The first sideways pull has bent the shaft loose from the point, so that it remains attached only by a line, an ingenious contrivance which prevents the breaking of the shaft. This precaution is necessary in a land where only bits of driftwood are obtainable, and these have to be lashed together with thongs. GREENLAND. 67 The bladder fastened to the harpoon keeps it afloat when it misses its mark. On the instant that the animal begins his down- ward course, Kudlu pays out the spare line. But five more yards remain, and then he must cut the line if he would save his own life. Five yards — three — two and then, just as the last moment appears very near, the strain ceases for a moment. The next instant the boat is being drawn rapidly through the water. Grad- ually, very gradually, Kudlu pulls in a few feet of the line, and when the whale, becoming exhausted, rises 68 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. to blow, he is ready with another harpoon. Again the whale madly plunges, and again Kudlu so skillfully handles the line that he keeps his kyack safe, while the whale is visibly weakened. Bravery and skill have their reward, and the proud little Eskimo paddles la- boriously homeward, towing his valuable prize. His strength is almost exhausted, when he sees the cluster of huts on the shore. Keen eyes have noted his distress. With shouts of joy the women rush down to his assistance, and with willing hands secure the carcass, Kudlu is now a great hero. He is a very young boy to have taken such a large whale. The women drag the carcass to the largest hut in the little village, and there place it in the center on the floor. It is a white whale, measuring nearly fif- teen feet. The head is one-third the entire length of the body, while the mouth cavity equals the thorax and abdomen together. In the mouth are the whale- bones of commerce. Their purpose is to strain the water so that the whale may get the food which is in the water. By the way, a whale is not a fish, for he breathes air, taking it from the water, and blowing it out when it becomes foul. A right whale* would *The common or Greenland whale, from which are obtained the whalebones of commerce. GREENLAND. 69 probably have measured fifty or sixty feet, and Kudlu could never have landed such a creature. There is now great feasting in the village. The whale is divided among the different families accord- ing to an established rule. The skin, taken with the blubber attached, is really not so very distasteful to a hungry man, for it tastes much like nuts and oysters together. And now that food is plenty, each one, feeling that he must make up for the long fasting, eats and eats until it seems impossi- ble that a person can hold so much. Per- haps it would be wiser to eat more sparingly at present, and save the remaining food for future need, but this is not the way of the Eskimo. If there should happen to be a piece of meat left, after every- one has satisfied his hunger, it will be buried under a pile of stones. Won't it spoil ? Yes, perhaps; but that would make no difference to a hungry Eskimo. When is the next meal to be? Oh, that is hard 70 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. to say. A person eats whenever he is hungry — if there is food. Now that all have satisfied their hunger, they ask Kudlu to relate his adventure. This he does at great length, leaving out no detail, however unimportant, and acting out the whole affair just as it occurred. Now that Kudlu has shown himself such a valiant youth, his father has decided to help him build a new kyack. The wood for the light frame has been care- fully hoarded up, bit by bit, and there are now skins enough. The women have prepared the skins so that they are very soft and pliable. An important part of the process is the thorough chewing — a piece of work not unpleasant, since it necessitates the swallowing of the fat drawn from the skins. When completed, the kyack is twenty-two feet long, a foot and a half in width and a foot in depth. Narmick decides to carry the remaining skins to a village where he knows he can exchange them for new spear points, which a certain man there makes especially well. The journey will be eighty or ninety miles, and must be accomplished by the dogs and a sled. Now, an Eskimo has no separate word for any number above five. Seven is "two fingers of the sec- ond hand;" twelve is "two toes of the foot," and GREENLAND. 71 twenty is "a whole man." So when Narmick tells his neighbors that he is going to drive eighty miles, he uses words which mean "four whole men." One hun- dred is the greatest number they ever use. The sled is ingeniously constructed. The long runners are shod with ivory, or when that cannot be «^^^^^ i^ ^^^^^ ■ - v-* ** &f^ obtained, mud is applied when soft, and frozen on with water. Narmick will take fifteen dogs; and when he is snugly wrapped in furs, he takes the short handled 72 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. whip and sends the long lash curling above the ears of the leader thirty feet ahead. If you do not understand something of the long Arctic nights, and the days when the sun never sets, get some one to explain it to you. On the day when Narmick starts, there are three false suns about the true one, a phenomenon peculiar to the Arctic regions. The nights are now very short, a sign that summer is near at hand. For a few miles, Narmick follows along the shore. There he passes a pile of driftwood marked with its owner's sign. Now, there is no one near to prevent Narmick taking the wood — indeed, the owner may have left it there years ago, but it is quite safe. No Eskimos will touch it, no matter how much wood may be needed. Now the way leads down a steep slope. The driver must climb out of his warm wraps and hitch the dogs to the rear of the sledge, that they may hold it back. The remainder of the journey is without any in- cident to relieve the monotony, and Narmick reaches the village just as the sun is setting amid such gor- geous colors as are found only in a northern sunset. A group of boys are having a game of football with an inflated bladder, while several others are GREENLAND. 73 practicing at throwing the harpoon. A crowd of dogs are snapping and snarhng at the heels of the boys. You would never think these fierce creatures, so wolf like, would be cowards at heart. But times of starv- ing, varied with an occasional meal, does not tend to make any creature amiable. Narmick is warmly wel- comed, and he finds it easy to exchange his skins for the desired weapons. But they persuade him to stay and join with them in a bear hunt which they have been planning. Tracks of bears have been seen in the 74 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. snow, and everyone is eager to secure the flesh and the shaggy fur of a polar bear. The party is separated into couples, each man being armed with a lance. Narmick has been search- ing for hours without so much as seeing a bear track, when his companion catches sight of the object of their search, an enormous polar bear, shambling over the snow with slow, awkward gait. His fur is wet — - he has evidently been swimming or diving for seals. Immediately Narmick drops back, and by a long way approaches the bear from the opposite direction. Then together both hunters rush up, and with lance and knife finally overcome the great bear. His car- cass belongs to the man who first caught sight of the bear, but when their party have dragged the carcass home," Narmick is given a piece of the skin to take home with him. It will make an excellent mat for him to crawl upon in long hunts upon the ice. Narmick decides that it is now time for him to start homeward. He harnesses the dogs, and is soon dashing out of the village. Narmick is speeding swiftly along, when his keen eyes note a peculiar track in the soft snow. "Surely it is the track of the musk ox," he exclaims; and he is not so much surprised as delighted, when he catches GREENLAND. 75 sight of not one musk ox, but six. What a fine chance to get a valuable skin ! With that hope he leaves the sled and hastens toward the group of great shaggy creatures that look, in the distance, like bundles of hay. Narmick has not gone far when they see him» and realizing that he means to kill them if he can^ they rush together into a group, and standing back to back, prepare to fight for their lives. There is one mother in the group who is worried about her baby. She stands over her child, and it is al- m o s t completely hidden by her shag- gy hair. When Narmick sees the fierce attitude of each animal, he gives up the chase, and, much against his will, he turns back to his sled; and in a wild scramble, the frightened animals rush up the rocky slope. When Narmick rides up to his own door, he is tired and cold. There is Sassumack to greet him, but there is not a man in the village except the two old men who are too old to hunt. The others are off on a walrus hunt, and this time they are successful; 76 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. which is most fortunate, since food is greatly needed in the community. When the hunting party returns, there is another feast. It is such a large walrus ! He must measure- at least sixteen feet. When first they had wounded the walrus he became very dangerous, and several of the hunters who had a very narrow escape had cause to be glad they were hunting in numbers. You see they managed it so that the party approached the walrus when he was at the bottom of the water dig- GREENLAND. 77 ging clams. But when he rose and received the at- tack, enraged with pain and anger, he rushed for the men to kill them with his tusks. Here was the dan- ger, and it was a fight for life. After the feasting is over, Narmick turns toward his hut; but an accident has befallen it. It has caved in ! Sassumack is not greatly surprised, for she has noticed the unsafe condition of the walls. This acci- dent means that a summer dwelling must be erected out of reindeer skins. The new home is larger, but furnished like the other. This tent of skins will not resist storms so successfully as did the low, round, snow huts, but a tent will be very comfortable for summer. And now the hard winter is passing away, and summer will bring plenty of food. On one of these early spring days there comes into the little village a stranger whose sunken eyes and faltering steps tell a sad, sad story of hunger. He wildly demands food, and it is quickly given him. Then, when strength be- gins to return, he tells a horrible story of how his people have been slowly starving. All food has been exhausted; they have even tried to make a soup out of the dried skins of the tent walls, and of cast-off cloth- ing; and, hoping to live on this for a time, have sent this, their strongest man, to the nearest village for 78 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. help. He fears that even now they are dying, for he has been so long on the way. Eskimos are always willing to share with a neigh- bor. That is why you never find a rich family among them. A party is quickly made up to go to the relief of the starving people. While starvation has been besieging the village^ a herd of reindeer has been ranging within easy reach of the famine-stricken little town. As the hunters grew weaker, the reindeer fed nearer, each being ig- norant of the existence of the other. The long winter has told upon the reindeer. The sleek, brown coats of last summer are rough and gray, and the skin hangs in loose folds. Along the paths where, they were ac- customed most often to feed, were strewn here and there outgrown pairs of antlers. The large antlers belonged to the oldest member of the herd. Each new pair of antlers has an additional prong, and when they are cast in January there is always a new pair growing under the skin, which will be ready for use in the summer. When these new antlers are growing they are soft and velvety; but by and by a bunch or burr forms at the base, which seems to cut off the blood supply, for the soft velvety covering shrivels up,, and Mr. Reindeer can rub it off in the bushes. And so these reindeer fed about on the open plains near GREENLAND. 79 the seashore, scraping away the snow that covered the moss and tearing it up, sometimes with their horns, but using most often their snout, which is protected by a stout skin. How do I know all this ? Why, Narmick sees the herd when he car- ries food to the poor famine suffer- ers, and he stays be- hind to set a trap. He digs a deep pit, covers it with slabs of ice, and then goes on to the vil- lage. Only a few hours after he has gone, two young reindeer come this way. On they come, playfully tossing their antlers and pawing the snow with their feet. One breaks through the thin cake of ice, and is a prisoner in the pit, while the other is swiftly speeding away in alarm. Narmick's return will be a triumphant one, for with this capture he can furnish Sassumack material p;;.^-,— ^^-^ „.«_... ,. ^1 ^rI f% t I 1^- l!\t- i u/' 80 lifU in other lands. for clothing, and sewing thread; for himself, lashing twine; and flesh to be enjoyed by everyone. But before home is reached, a visit must be paid the nests of the eider duck; for the eggs are good to eat, the sea weed lining will be eaten with relish, and the birds themselves are wanted for their skins. There, among the large stones, a little, brown mother bird has toiled to build her modest little nest. Many weary journeys has she made to and fro, gath- ering bits of sea weed and grass; and then, having made the nest nice and warm, she adds one thing more — a soft lining, the fluffy down from her own breast. There are five eggs in the nest over which the little brown mother lovingly watches, while her mate, a handsome fellow in black feathers and a white breast, is flying far away for food. Isn't it sad that this little family is so soon to be destroyed, for the Eskimo is near at hand. Unless he can capture the bird and pluck the down from her breast while she is alive, he will get only that which is worthless, and must be content with only the lining in the nest which was intended for the comfort of five helpless birdlings. There are auks in plenty, while high above the auks and ready to swoop down upon an unfortunate are the glaucous gulls. Tiiere seems to be a certain understanding that an auk near a nest is not to be GREENLAND. 81 molested. Falling stones cause no disturbance if they are in the usual quarter, but a stray stone from an unexpected direction causes a fearful commotion. Hayes, in his ''Land of Desolation," tells how it is the habit of the lummes to sit on a ledge of rock in regular rows, as if each bird were a soldier on parade. Each female bird lays one egg on the rock, puts it on end, and sits on it as on a stool. If an egg is de- stroyed, the unfortunate owner may steal an egg, if S2 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. she can do so unobserved. The owner of the stolen egg may in turn steal one. I must tell you about a party that Sassumack had^ There were over fifty bird skins which she had dried one by one, with the feathers on them. There were so many of the skins that she thought she would make a party and invite all the women to help her prepare them. The tent was quite full of guests, who sat about the floor and chatted gaily with each other until Sassumack gave each one a bird skin to chew. Most of the fat had been scraped off, but enough remained to repay a person for the chewing. Each woman be- gan at one end of the skin and continued to chew until it became white and soft. Then, stowing this portion away in one cheek, she began to chew the next por- tion, and so continued until the whole skin was tucked away in one cheek. The days become longer and longer. At last the sun keeps on his round and fails to sink below the horizon. A spirit of restlessness takes possession of the people, who are now living in tents of skins, and we are not surprised* to see that an oomiack is being constructed. Eighteen skins have gone to cover this fiat bottomed " woman's boat," and there comes a day when the village is deserted, the few articles needed are placed in the boat, and the thirty-five little people GREENLAND. 83 whose fortunes we have followed so long, take their places in the boat. The women take the paddles, and with regret, we watch them as they lose themselves among the beautiful cathedral-like icebergs. We shall never know what fortunes await them, — ^what hardships they may be called upon to endure, nor upon what shore they build their new homes, when the northern lights shall flash in waves of color, and the long, dreary night shall have come again. 84 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. South America MARJA ARJA is a true princess, but never has she worn a purple robe. Her father is king of a people that belongs to the great group of Indians known as the Tupis, living near the Amazon river or scattered through the dense forest. The white people who come up the river are a familiar sight to the Indians with whom they trade; but Marja lives far back in the dense forest, and none of her people have ever seen the face of a white man. You see her in this little village to-day; but a week later, you may find the rude huts deserted, and learn that a new village has been made near to fresh hunting grounds. Purple robes ! No, indeed ! It is such a warm country that very little clothing of any kind is worn. Ninety-nine degrees in the shade, or one hundred twenty-two degrees in the sun during the warm months, seems but little hotter than our SOUTH AMERICA. 85 own climate; but because of the great amount of moisture in the air, the heat is almost unendurable. The little village over which Marja's father rules consists of only five or six houses, but he is the king, and to him the people come for advice in time of war. Great trees overshadow the whole village. The framework of each house consists of four poles driven into the ground, and across the top is laid another to support the roof of palm leaves. Three sides are open, that the room may be as cool as possible. In Marja's 86 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. home, the hammock serves for both bed and chair; and the stove is a hole in the ground, where various roots and grains are being cooked in the ashes. The gourds carelessly scattered around, serve for plates, kettles, water jugs, etc. Some long bows and arrows leaning against the wall, tell how the hunting is done. Marja's father is light brown in color, and, al- though he is slender, his muscles are firm and strong. His hair, which is black and straight, falls away from a broad, low forehead. The eyes are long and narrow, and the nose somewhat flattened. He has a habit of keeping his thick lips parted, which gives to his face an appear-^ ance of stupidity, that is very deceiving. All the men have patterns tat- tooed in red and blue about their mouths, and they are also proud of the smaller decorations pricked on arms and legs. Marja's baby brother rides astride of the mother's hips, and he must find it a comfortable way to rest, for he is quiet while she carries him thus in going SOUTH AMERICA. 87 about her work. She appears to be fond of her baby, now while he is small, but travelers say that a native mother seems to lose affection for her children after they are able to take care of themselves. Perhaps it it is not strange, for she is a busy woman. She carries the drinking water from the pools and streamlets in jars of clay; cooks the food, prepares the mandioc, and does many things of which we shall speak later. All burdens she carries upon her back, and at the last moving time, such a load of things were hung about her on all sides as to quite hide her from sight. Did you ever feel as if there was nothing but work in this life of yours ? When there is wood or water to bring, dishes to wash, errands to run, lessons to study, practicing to do; when father is always busy at office or store, when mother says "Not now, I'm busy," did you ever wish yourself safely away in a land where there are no pianos, where lessons never have to be studied, and where there are no carpets to sweep nor dishes to wash ? Here is just such a country; and yet, did it ever occur to you that there must always be food to eat, and if one cannot run to the grocer or baker for food, one must be one's own gardner, butcher, and baker? The time that father now spends in the office would 88 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. be just as fully occupied, but in a different way. He would take his bow or long blow gun, and be gone for days hunting the tapir, alligator, or armadillo. Mother, too, would be busy planting corn, cooking the meals, and making farina. You, little girl, would have to help, and I fear you would soon wish yourself safe back in America, where, if there is a great deal to be done, there are certainly many convenient helps to make the work pleasant. Just to look at the mandioc now; you would never think so much work had been spent upon it. The ground was originally covered with trees. The trunks were cut off close to the ground, but there was still the labor of burning the trunks and planting the mandioc. The full grown plants are higher than Marja's head. The leaves, grow- ing at the top in a star-like cluster, seem to be ;t* SOUTH SOUTH AMERICA. 89 proudly beckoning to you; but be not deceived. It is the root which is the useful part, and it will not be ripe until a year after the planting. Think of a pars- nip two or three feet long, and you have a very good idea of the mandioc root. Marja is helping now to peel one, and sometimes her mother lets her try to hold the pieces against the round grater which she turns with her foot, but the little girl finds it difficult. The wet paste which falls from the grater has to be pressed, in order that the poison may be extracted. The hard lumps are then pounded fine, and the flour is dried in an oven. Marja remembers how one day when her mother was not working, she ate some of the moist paste, and became so ill that she never wanted to try it again. But, strange to say, if the juice is put away to fer- ment, it loses the poison, and is very good to drink. If you are fond of tapioca pudding, you will be interested in knowing that tapioca is the pure starch that settles when the grated mandioc is mixed with water. The starch mixed with the woody fibre is farina, upon which these people mainly depend for food. Marja soon tires of trying to help her mother. She is really too small to be of use, and she soon wan- 90 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. ders away, unnoticed, down to the river, through a dense, tangled network of vines and luxuriant foliage. Orchids of wonderful shapes and beautiful colors brush against her hand, but she does not want them to-day; air plants, bending, touch her lightly on the forehead, but she heeds them not, nor is she attracted by the many-colored moths and blue butterflies. Some of the moths so closely resemble a leaf or twig that only a sharp eye can detect them. It is a strange fact, and proves the wisdom of nature, that only the swift flying insects show their color freely. I suppose they trust to their wings for escape if pursued. But Marja is now at the water. She has been here before. She calls it her garden, for here, stretched upon the surface of the water, are the leaves of a giant water lily. I once went to see this wonder- ful Victoria Regina at Lincoln Park, Chicago. I asked how such great leaves, some of them eighteen feet around, could keep on the surface of the water, and they showed me a wonderful system of braces growing under the leaf, furnishing support like the braces of an umbrella. Marja often sees a blos- som three or four feet in circumference. If the pet- als are white to-day, they will be a delicate rose color tomorrow, changing on the following day to a red. Then the lily loses its fragrance, droops to the water. SOUTH AMERICA. 91 and begins to ripen its seeds. This is one ilower that I do not desire for a bouquet, and I smile as I try to imagine my Httle friends bringing me a bunch of such huge beauties. Just as Marja turns to go home again, she sees an armadillo that is looking for insects, roots, or the flesh of some dead animal. "What a good dinner his delicate flesh would make!" she thinks; but she is only a little girl, and he is protected by a tough, scaly armor. So she stays, hiding among the branches, watching him poke his long nose about. The three parts of his armor are joined with elastic 92 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. bands, so he can move very easily, and his short legs are provided with hooked nails for burrowing. Suddenly a slight movement from Marja fright- enes the armadillo, and before she can wink he has found a hole and is gone. As she sees the last of his black tail disappearing in the ground, she wishes she dared seize him by it and drag him forth; but she does not know that should she try to do so, she would pull in vain; for once having gotten his head in, she might pull his tail off without securing him. Marja retraces her steps, and finds that her father has returned. He has been looking after the cows. It is many years since he has tried to keep any cattle. All former attempts ended in disaster. The tse-tse flies came and proved a terrible enemy, and now this attempt bids fair to end in a like manner. Yesterday he missed a young heifer, and to-day went in search of it. He found an anaconda twenty-six feet long that had fastened to the neck of the poor animal, and having crushed out the life, had covered the mass with slime and swallowed the carcass whole. When found, the anaconda was lying torpid with the horns sticking out of its mouth. It would have remained so for a month, until the horns had dropped off by decay, had not vengeance overtaken the reptile, in the shape SOUTH AMERICA. 93 of an Indian who found it an easy task to deal death to the serpent in its present condition. Marja would like her home better if there were no ants, for they annoy her greatly. There are red ants with large heads,, and ants of all sizes. The tana- juras are brown ants like hornets, three inches across 94 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. the wings. The Indian can have his revenge for the annoyance these ants cause him, for he finds them good eating when they are scalded, fried in fat, and seasoned with salt and pepper. Charles Dent, in his book called "A Year in Bra- zil," says he watched the females as they flew rapidly about. He saw them settle on the ground, lift up the center leg and break off their wings, first on one side and then on the other. After finding a suitable place to burrow, they removed the grass, dug the earth with their jaws, and deposited it on the lower side of the hill so that it could not be washed back again by the next rain. Was not that a wise thing to do? Once Marja's family returned at night after a day's absence, only to find that a family of ants had taken possession, and there was nothing for the people to do but to build a new hut. There is one kind of ants that are an inch and a quarter long. Fortunately they exist only in small colonies about the roots of slender trees. The sting is not severe. The parasol ants are described in a very interest- ing manner by Henry W. Bates, in "The Naturalist in the Amazons." He says that they march to and fro in broad columns, and strip entire trees of their foli- age. They mount to the leaves and carry away cir- SOUTH AMERICA. 95 cular pieces as large as a sixpence. Then, carrying their pieces vertically, they march off. They also plunder provisions. The natives try to drive them off by putting dead fish in their nests, and since they pre- fer cultivated trees, branches are cut and thrown in their way, in the hope that they will be satisfied and leave the mandioc alone. To-night Marja is suffering greatly from the cabecudo ants. They are really no larger than a grain of pepper, but they bury themselves in the flesh. Marja's father has removed as many as 270 at one time from about his waist; and now you know why he lets his finger nails grow so long, and keeps them pointed. The ant has a powerful enemy in the great ant eater. The only pity is that he cannot get all of the ants. He looks like a bundle of hay, this shaggy, short legged creature; and it seems a bit ridiculous that an animal six feet long (not including his great bushy tail) should prey upon such a tiny creature as an ant. And yet, this is just how he gets his food. He tears open the ant hill and puts in a long, slender tongue, to which the ants stick, but he cannot swal- low them until the tongue is again thrust out. The summer passes quickly, and the rainy season will soon be an unpleasant reality. Before it comes, 96 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. there is much to be done. This year it is the inten- tion to abandon the village and go to the great Brazil nut forest. Moving is an easy matter, but the jour- ney is quite another problem. Canoes will take them part of the way. The occasional turtle, lizard, tapir, and water hog will supply them with meat, and they have brought a large supply of yams and plenty of farina. There comes a time when the boats must be abandoned and the rest of the way made on foot. The par- ty grow very weary be- fore the first day is over, and throw themselves down to rest in the shade of a rubber tree. There is no water to drink, the supply has long ago been exhausted; but nature has made provision for the needs of just such thirsty travelers. It is but the work of a moment to cut a branch from the water vine, and there flows a tiny stream of water. When all are refreshed, preparations are made for the night; a simple meal is eaten, and a guard is appointed, for 2^ m^i^^'v jEj ^fS ^^ *«L J^^^ ^ i * c. Si^ w# ■ #» f Wf m^' *• Hv^ m ^1 1 f J * '*■• ^BsJ 1 1 *■ !^w'~^3 |f ifin 1^,. ;-~ ::M 1m '^m p- ^w 1 " SOUTH AMERICA. 97 there is great danger from wild beasts in this wild region.' With the first light of day the march is resumed. It will be wise to be far on the way before the burn- ing heat of the sun shall overtake them. Just as the sun is becoming unbearable, they reach the great for- est. How will it ever be possible to gather the nuts from such giant trees ? Why, some of them must be at least two hundred feet high, and there isn't a branch or anything on which to climb for at least half the distance. But they do not intend to climb, but instead, they will patiently wait for the nuts to come to them. The men are quickly set to work building huts close by the rough trunks, and soon a tiny village has sprung up in the dense shade of the forest. This very night a wind storm arises, and at inter- vals the sound as it were of falling cannon balls causes Marja to start in her sleep, but she is lulled by the far away roaring of the wind in the tree tops, and sleeps on. By morning the wind has died away, and stand- ing at the door of his hut, the Indian views with great satisfaction the work of the storm. The ground is strewn with the nut cases; some of them falling from such a height have buried themselves in the soft earth, and will have to be dug out. Put eighteen large Brazil nuts into a stout wooden box, only just 98 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. large enough for them, and then tell me if you would like to have it dropped upon your head from the top of a ten story building. There is danger every moment from the falling cases, and it will be very strange indeed if the harvest is finished without an accident. Marja takes care that -her little brown body does not venture outside of the shelter of the strong roof, and she finds something to amuse her in the pile of nuts, which is daily growing larger. The rough, wooden cases cannot be carried away. There is noth- ing to do but to pound them off — a task which is both slow and tiresome. All through the rainy season they work, and when the rain ceases the village is deserted. Slowly and laboriously, they work their way back to the canoes, which, strange to say, are found in their hiding places where they had been left. All the nuts are put into two canoes, and trusty men are given the charge of these two, with instruc- tions to float on down the river until they shall reach a town where it has been reported there are men who will take nuts in exchange for weapons, arrows, or anything an Indian may desire. Until the return of the canoes, a new home must be found, and this is not an easy matter to decide, when there are some who want to search for rubber SOUTH AMERICA. 99 trees, while others want to plant cacao. In fact, the tribe has been too much excited by the prospect of trade with the towns which are far down the river. Two years ago they were quite contented, but the ar- rival of a stranger from one of the river tribes had put many new ideas into their heads. This excursion into the Brazil nut forest is one result of the strang- er's words, and now, while they are waiting for news, they want to be preparing another cargo to be sold if the report is favorable. Their minds naturally turn first to cacao, but the tree will not yield fruit until it has been planted four or five years. They cannot afford to wait so long, and messengers are therefore sent to a distant village to see if it be possible to buy some trees which are already bearing fruit. During the period of waiting, small parties are sent out to find some rubber trees, and the very day that the first one is found, the party which was sent to find cacao trees returns. They found a village greatly needing farina. LofG. 100 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. The crop of mandioc has failed, and the men will exchange the fruit of half their cacao trees for a stated amount of farina. The only satisfactory way seems to mean a divis- ion of the tribe into two parties, one to pursue the search for rubber trees, and the other to prepare chocolate. To Marja falls the lot of remaining with the gatherers of rubber. Every day that a new tree is found, there is great rejoicing, and in a few weeks there are so many located that it takes quite two hours to make the evening rounds. Next day the men bring in a gill or so from each tree, and little by little the liquid rises in the clay jar. Then a fire of palm nuts is builded, and a flat wooden -paddle is dipped in the liquid. Over the fire the juice dries and blackens, an- other coat is applied and dried in the same way, and the process is repeated until twelve coats have been applied and the rubber is an inch thick. Little do the men know what a valuable article of trade they have in their hands. Some faint idea they have of its possibilities, to be sure, but at the ship- ping ports it will be in great demand. One day, as they are at their usual occupation, a familiar shout from the river causes all eyes to turn in that direction. It is the men who have sold the SOUTH AMERICA. 101 Brazil nuts. Their canoes are loaded with many strange objects which will add greatly to the comfort of the Indians. Most prized of all is the collection of bright colored beads, and these are quickly distributed and proudly worn. More beads can be obtained for cacao seeds, rub- ber, or chinchilla fur. All was true which they had heard concerning this far away town. There were large boats, wonderful houses, and strange white men who spoke a queer language, but were ever ready to give beads for any of the things the Indians might bring. A messenger is sent to the gatherers of cacao seeds, with the good news, and to bid them send or bring their chocolate at once, that it may be taken to the city of the white men. The messenger finds the men quite ready to leave the village. They have been very busy cutting open the outer shell, washing the seeds free from the pulp, and now, upon the mats on the raised stagings the seeds are quite dry and ready to be sold. It cannot truly be called chocolate until the seeds have been roasted, melted, and made into cakes with melted sugar. No part of the fruit needs to be wasted, for the women know how to make a delicious jelly from the pulp. So a new cargo' is prepared, and without delay it 102 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. is sent down the river to that far away, wonderful place of fairy-like possibilities. Marja's mother now thinks it quite time that she pay a little more attention to the needs of her own household. She first sets Marja to watch the sapucaia tree, while she turns her own attention to making dishes out of the shells of the cala- b a s h. For two whole days she scrapes away at the inner pulp, and paints the new dishes so that they look as shiny and smooth as if var- nished. A 1 1 this time Marja is obediently watching a sapu- caia tree. She has thrown herself up- on a soft, grassy mound, and with an occasional glance up into its um- brella-like crown of leaves, she watches the monkeys chattering in the branches, and wishes she could catch SOUTH AMERICA. 103 the little brown marmoset who has at last ventured from his hiding place in the hollow of an old tree. Poor little monkey ! He is still shivering with cold, although the sun is almost overhead; and is, no doubt, wishing himself back in his warm home. Other mon- keys swing from branch to branch, and hanging by their tails, saucily tease each other. A small bee flies past her face to his home, where his warning causes the guards of the hive to fill up the doorway with resin, while the imprisoned inmates live upon the store of honey. Thus is made the resin used for the bows of our violins. But hark ! What is that noise; and who is throw- ing a shower of nuts at Marja's head? Marja knows, and she springs to her feet and is off to her mother with the news. " The case is opened; it let the nuts fall right through the bottom, mother, and you'll need to hurry." In spite of the haste made, the two find that the monkeys have already helped themselves, and only a part of the nuts are left. It seems as if one were never free from danger, for as Marja and her mother, homeward bound, pass under a low branch of a cecropia*, danger threatens them in the form of a sloth, hanging by his long, *A tree twenty or thirty feet high, named after Cecrops, king of Athens. 104 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. curved claws. He has been feeding on cecropia leaves. All his life has been spent hanging from the trees, and now his fore legs have grown longer than the hind legs. But just because he is such a slow crea- ture, his victims have passed before he has had time to bite, and he drops lazily to the earth for one of his rare journeys upon the ground, where he will move so slowly and awkwardly that five or six yards will measure the distance of one day's travel. You see SOUTH AMERICA. 105 now why people have warned you against being sloth- ful. Why, this creature is so slow that it takes sev- eral charges of shot to kill him, and even when he is hurt the wound scarcely bleeds ! He is slow in every part of his nature. There will be something new and delicious for supper, of which Marja has not known. The turtles have appeared on the river bank to lay their eggs in the sand, and swimming slowly away in the water, are shot by good marksmen. So there are turtles for supper, and there will be turtle butter after th^ eggs are collected and broken and left in the sun. The oil that rises will be a very valuable addition to the daily bill of fare. Within the same week, two parties of Indians stop, on their way down the river, and are eagerly questioned. Both companies have heard of the great boats down where the river reaches the ocean, and of the men who will buy. One canoe is loaded with bundles of chinchilla fur. The men, upon being questioned by Marja's father, the chief, tell all they know about how and where to find the little gray animals which, though only twelve inches long, are in great demand among the white men. The informer points far up the river and indicates that "it is only far away, close to the 106 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. mountains, one may hope to find the chinchilla at home; and even there he is visible only at morning or evening, as his long ears emerge from his burrow — a sign that it is time for breakfast or supper of grasses and roots. You need never hope to catch him. His short, front legs give the body a slant which appears always to direct his head toward the underground re- treat, but a tame weasel can be taught to follow into the burrow and bring him out. The other canoes are filled with odd shaped bun- dles wrapped in hides. The men willingly open one bundle, carefully unfasten the coarse cloth, and dis- close about 150 pounds of the dry cinchona bark, from which quinine is made. After a great deal of talking, one of the strangers consents to leave his party and act as guide for any who may wish to know the way to the cinchona trees. Marja's wanderings are to begin anew. New experi- ences will bring new duties. There will always be work to do, and tasks which have before been too heavy for her, will soon fall upon her slender shoul- ders; for she is fast growing to be a careful, capable little woman. CHINA. 107 CHINA SI NG LEE N THE crowded street of a certain city of China, a quaint, boyish figure stands leaning against a projecting wall. His blue trousers are loose and baggy, he wears a long. blue coat tied at the sides over a white under- jacket, and only a small skull cap covers his head. An unpleasant frown disfigures his face as his eyes rest on the figure of an American; and as the stranger passes, words are uttered by the boy's lips that would mean in our language "foreigner." Like his countrymen. Sing Lee has a hatred both for for- eigners and for all foreign innovations. Turning as the stranger disappears, Sing Lee passes on to his home. The wall is close to the street, its plainness being relieved only by some stucco work,* and by the granite steps that lead to the front door. There is but one story. The home is a collection of * Stucco is a fine plaster for covering walls. 108 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. small buildings, built of bluish gray bricks two or three inches long. The air is cool this morning, and the house is cold and uncomfortable. Sing Lee finds his mother trying to warm her numb fingers at a tiny portable stove. He would like to put on a short, loose jacket of padded silk, but the wearing of winter cloth- ing may be done only at the order of the emper- or. Until it is cold at the emperor's palace, there will be no proclamation issued for winter ap- parel. He selects a fresh pair of high silken gaiters which are lower behind than in front, ties them about his ankles, and adds a pair of sandals with sim- ple soles of leather. Then he is off to school. Not to a public institution, for there is none; but to a private school, where thirty or forty boys have already begun to study. Sing Lee goes directly to his teacher, who sets him at work learning a portion of the book from which CHINA. 109 yesterday's lesson was taken. It contains the wise sayings of a great Chinese teacher, but Httle heed is being paid to the meaning of the words as Sing Lee rocks back and forth, shouting the words at the top of his voice. Indeed, much of it is far beyond his abihty to understand, but the teacher hopes that the mean- ing will become clear in after years, and he is now in- terested only in seeing that his pupils have thoroughly learned their lessons. Usually Sing Lee would have had his lesson learned much sooner than the other boys, but to-day something is distracting his mind. The older boys have translated their pages into ordinary language and have written it out with a fine camel's hair brush. The more advanced pupils have composed their origi- nal essays, and now there are left only Sing Lee and a smaller lad who has been in school only a few days. The difficulties seem too many for this tiny little fel- low to master. He has for the first time realized that there are 3,000 characters which he must learn before he can read even an ordinary book; and he cannot, try as he may, see why this queer, crooked, irregular thing he has copied over and over, should mean summer, when the character he copied yesterday meant father. But he is a persevering little fellow, and he rubs his cake of ink in the little flat dish at his side, and tries 110 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. again to make an exact copy of the character be- fore him. But Sing Lee is still shouting out his lesson. Down the column he reads, and proceeding to the left has just finished his portion for the thousandth time, it seems to him, when the teacher calls him. With many misgivings he turns his back to the teacher and begins to recite; but, alas ! before he is half way through, he stops and is unable to proceed. There is no escaping the punishment. A black ring is marked around each eye to rep- resent spectacles, and he hurries home to lunch, trying to slip through the back streets, and hoping to hide himself from the gaze of passers by. At home his father would have beaten him, had it not been for CHINA. Ill the fact that the whole household is excited over the preparations that Ye Sing is making for a journey to Pekin. Do you notice that the name Sing is a part of the father's name also? You see, in China it is con- sidered more polite to put your parent's name first. Just as if we were to say, not "John Smith," but "Smith John." Ye Sing is a great scholar. Years ago he passed the examination held in that district where he resides. The examination required only an original poem and several essays, but it lasted a day and a night, and he was one of the few who passed, although a hundred made the trial. That was the way he got the gold button which he wears on his cap, and now if he were arrested the law could not order bodily punishment to be inflicted upon him. But that was not all. He passed a second exam- ination, longer and harder, received another gold but- ton, and is now known as a " promoted man," for are not the words written over his door? Sing Lee has always hoped to follow his father's example; but he is in disgrace to-day, while his father is about to start for Pekin to take the third exami- nation. During the days of his father's absence, nothing interests Sing Lee. He passes by the peep shows, the 112 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. Punch and Judy shows, and th.e gymnasts. He touch- es neither his dominoes nor his chess, nor will he con- sent to join the boys in a lively game of shuttlecock. He will not go to the theatre, although there is a play now in progress which has been going on for several days and is not yet finished. And yet the days do drag along somehow, and the father is home again, tired, worn, and worried by the severe days of ex- amination. Sing Lee would at once demand an account of all that his father has seen and done, had he not been taught a proper respect to his parents. So very humbly he waits until it may please his parent to speak. And so, little by little. Ye Sing tells the whole story to his wife and child. He says he was greatly bothered by not being able to understand the different dialects of the regions through which he passed. Arrived at Pekin, he went at once to the exami- nation hall, or examination grounds, to be more ac- CHINA. 113 curate. The hour for the examination arrived and he was shown to his cell, which was at the end of the central avenue, along which were ranged 8,000 other cells, most of which held an anxious man, upon whose efforts depended a great deal. The door closed upon him, the lock was fastened, and, opening his bundle of writing materials, he placed them upon a bench, lighted a candle, threw himself upon a seat, and be- gan to work. Late into the night he wrote, and when he felt that he must rest, he blew out the candle, threw himself upon the floor of the tiny cell and slept; but long before light he was up, and after a lunch was at work again. For three days he kept at work, until his head throbbed with his efforts to think, his body was ex- hausted from lack of sleep, and it seemed as if it were better to die than to fail after so much of his life had gone into the attempt. Turning to leave the hall, he saw among the crowd pouring from the cells, a feeble old man who was quite overcome by the strain, and was unable to walk. Ye Sing hastened to help him on his way, at which the old man was very grateful to him, and told how he had tried this examination every time for the last twenty-five years, and was still hoping to succeed. Ye Sing wondered of what use success • could be to 114 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. such an old man, since the government position which it might bring would be too late for so feeble a person to take. This is all that Sing Lee is able to learn of his father's journey, and now many days must pass before the result can be known. Meanwhile Sing Lee is still at school, and has not been obliged to wear a second pair of specta- cles. He is hurrying home one evening to supper, swinging his pretty fan and thinking how much he would enjoy a dish of the greenish brown worms from the rice fields, pickled and salt- ed, rather than the pork, fish, or fowl that will probably be served. Of course there will be rice and tea, but he does wish there might be something especially good to-night. But when he reaches home, all is in confusion. His mother has been taken with a serious illness. Just as usual, the hairdresser had come early in the morning CHINA. » 115 to arrange the jet black hair of Sing Lee's mother. For several hours the hairdresser had plastered her hair with gum, and when the work was over, it was beautifully done in the prevailing style. Then a paste had been applied to her face, rouge to her cheeks, eye- lids, and palms, her nails dyed a bright red, and Sing Lee's little mother awkwardly made her way on her tiny, misshapen feet to her favorite place. Taking up the embroidery which was to decorate her hus- band's robe when he should become a mandarin, she had set industriously to work until the sickness had overtaken her; and now, when Sing Lee comes home he sees how very ill she is. Only yesterday, she had been carried "pick-a- back " by the strong servant, to visit at the house of See How; and now she is too ill to hear her son's Voice. Fortunately the mother does not die, and before the Dragon Boat Festival has come, she is almost well again, and able to enjoy the beautiful sight. This festival is to keep in memory the death of a great minister of state, who lived 450 years B. C. He had failed to persuade his emperor to act in a cer- tain affair of the state, and had been dismissed. In grief, he took his own life, and now we have the ceremony of looking for the body. 116 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. Our friends have a boat eighty-five feet long, and at its prow is the head of a dragon, a symbol of im- perial power. The drums beat, the boats dart here and there, an exciting boat race comes off, and the day closes in one grand blaze of lights from the lanterns. Nothing comes to break the usual order of things except the occasional holiday. One is the Festival of Lanterns,* another is the Full Moon Festival, t and there is the Day for Ascending on High, when every *Thi"s festival originated in the story that God fixed a certain day to destroy man for his wiclcedness. Being warned, each per- son placed a fire in his doorway and lighted lanterns, that God might see the light and think his orders had been carried out, and the world destroyed by fire. t At midnight on the 15th of the month, the goddess is supposed to come to earth for the purpose of granting the wish of ar.y mor- tal who may see her. CHINA. 117 one who can goes to the top of a hill or mountain, in memory of a time when a family was saved by a similar act. The greatest feast comes at the beginning of the nev/ year. For about three weeks business is sus- pended, and the time filled with various celebrations appropriate to the season. There are always fire- crackers, not alone for the small boy, but for the dig- nified elderly man, who with solemn face steps to the middle of the street, lights the fuse of a large fire- cracker, and without a gleam of amusement in his face, goes upon his way, knowing he has performed a worthy act. At this time comes the Kite Festival. Every man and boy, no matter how poor, will have his own kite to fly on this day. There are whistling kites, kites of odd shapes and bright colors, beautiful flaming kites at night, large kites, small kites, and every possible kind of a kite. The boys rub their kite strings with glue and ap- ply some powdered glass, so that they may cut the string of another kite and capture it. Altogether it is the j oiliest, most exciting day that can be imagined. I suppose you think we are never going to hear the result of the examination. It has seemed a long time; but the report comes at last, and everyone for- 118 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. gets how anxious he has been, in joy at the good news — success. This means an appointment to a govern- ment office, and it will raise a man to a rank among the greatest men of the land. A few weeks later, Ye Sing finds it necessary to move to his farm, and the boy having never been in the country is only too glad to move. Everything is new to him, from the rice fields to the tea farms. He has been to every part of the farm before two days have passed, and yesterday he /lad decided to be a tea merchant, to-day he thinks he will raise silk worms, while to-morrow his plans may turn towards opium raising. The men on the farm let him work the end- less chain by means of which buckets of water are CHINA. 119 hauled to the top of a slope and emptied there to flow down over the plants on the hillside. The naughty boy tried to smoke opium one day. He knew it was wrong, for he had been told that opium smoking was sure to injure the health and weaken the mind, but he had been watching the men scraping off the white paste which had formed at the slits made in the pods. He at once decided he would like to try to smoke opium. Whether he would have succeeded we shall never know, for his father found him just then, and you can imagine what followed. If I were not afraid of wearying you I would tell more about tea culture, but I think you know a great deal about that subject al- ready. It may be no news to you that the plants are raised from seeds and transplanted the following autumn and that the shrubs are kept low, so that many branches will grow and bear more leaves. You doubt- less know that the crop is not gathered until the plant is about four years .old, and that some leaves are left 120 - LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. to collect dew for the plant. Of the three crops, of course, the first is the best. Congo tea is dried very slowly in the sun; Oolong tea is dried more rapidly, and over a fire in an iron vessel. Tea is never steeped in China. They pour the boiling water over the tea, and drink it with neither milk nor sugar. But business calls Ye Sing to the city. He has tea to sell, some opium, and a little rice. Sing Lee is allowed to accompany his father. Passage is hired on a trading boat. This is a very slow way of traveling, but far more comfortable than riding on jolting, creaking carts, over rough roads. The boat stops at every little village along the way, and takes on some rice at one place, chests of tea at another, hollow stems of bamboo to be used for water pipes at a third, bamboo for building purposes, and even tanks of live fish which are bound to the city also. Among the passengers on board is one who is go- ing home to his pearl fisheries, a day's journey down stream, and while Sing Lee is munching his melon seeds, the man talks with his father about pearls. It is Gee Lun, the wealthiest pearl gatherer on the river. The two men find much in common, and before the CHINA. 121 pearl fisheries are reached, Ye Sing has promised that when the boat stops he will go with his friend and see the opening of the shells. The visit proves to be just at the right time if one wishes to see the results of the work. In May, the mollusks* had been gently opened that tiny lumps might be put in against the shell. They were then put in shallow ponds to stay for several months. The *A moUusk is an animal having a soft body and no inside skeleton. 122 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. rough substance hurt the tender mussel and it cov- ered the offending place with a smooth coat of pearl like that which lines its shell. To-day they are opening these shells for the pearls. In some cases the work proves to be fruitless, in others the pearl is small or imperfect, while the finding of one of great size and beauty will more than pay for all the labor lost upon the others. The boat is soon to leave, however, and good byes are hastily said. One more air castle is being created in the brain of Sing Lee, and he decides that he must surely become a gatherer of pearls. What necklaces he will give to his mother; what heaps of "cash" he will gather together ! His father must have the hand- somest cofl^n in the kingdom, to proudly show his friends when they come to the house. His father will say: "This beautiful coffin is the gift of my young son, who is a rich pearl gatherer." For himself he will buy a fierce black cormorant and train it for his very own. He will tie a cord about the bird's neck so it cannot swallow the fish, and then his idle hours shall be spent sending the bird for fish He will lazily sit in his boat while the bird watches for a fish. He need not even exert himself while the cormorant darts down. The bird will seize the fish by the head,' if pos- sible; if not, by tossing it up in the air he will catch it CHINA, 123 again in the proper place. Oh, he knows all about the habits of cormorants ! He has seen them fish- ing many times, and knows why the wise bird swal- lows the fish head first. Do you? When several fish have been caught. Sing Lee thinks he will call the cormorant to him and make it open its long, slight- ly hooked beak, and disgorge the fish, which, because of the string he had tied about its neck, have been s w a 1- lowed only into a pouch. Sing Lee contin- ues to dream of things that his wealth may buy. His finger naiis must be at least an inch and a half long, then everyone may know he never works, and no one shall dare to come into his presence with the queue done up. He, of course, will 124 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. have a wife. Her feet must be of the smallest. His mother shall beat her and order her around, and he will tell his wife that submission to the husband's par- ents is a wife's first duty. Yes, he must have ser- vants to wave beautiful and costly fans while he dines, and everyone shall call him great. But, alas, for boyish dreams ! He forgets that the only road to public honor is through the exami- nation hall, the path which his father has trod. His dreams stop suddenly, as the boat passes a strange procession. A man is floating slowly down the stream, followed and surrounded by a fluttering, noisy flock of ducks who are taking themselves to market. Now and then, the man in the boat lifts a long stick and reminds the laggard that he must hasten on. The noisy flock have felt this same rod at evening time, when the master's whistle has called them to their tiny shed on the tanka boat. And now they are approaching the city. The bank is lined with boats, two or three rows deep, moored to a hitching post. How fine to be able to move when tired of one's neighbors, and how much nicer to have one's home free from payment of rent ! How good it seems to be on land once more, and CHINA. 125 to be able to go here and there without having to hur- ry back to the boat. Business comes first, and then pleasure. Ye Sing has some purchases to make. They enter a Kttle shop. The whole of one side is open to the street. Here are beautiful carved pieces of wood, some of ivory, and jewelry made of that beautiful greenish white stone called jade. Some pieces of ivory are selected, and a necklace of jade. The merchant names the price — Ye Sing is surprised and indignant. The merchant pro- tests that it really is a very low price, but since the purchaser insists, he will lower it a bit. Ye Sing is more hopeful, but firmly refuses to pay any such a price, and turns to leave the shop. He is recalled, however, and the bartering goes on until a satisfactory price is agreed upon. The amount is reckoned up on the oblong tray, where the little balls strung on wires are deftly moved here and there to represent different sums, and the money is paid. Now to the shop of an artist. Sing Lee is to have his picture painted. When the picture is finished some days later, it is pronounced by everyone to be a decided success. Of course it is a front view, so as to show two eyes and two ears. What else would you have ? Do you want people to think you are blind or deaf, as they surely would if a side view were taken. 126 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. showing but one ear and one eye. His head is bent in the attitude of a student, and there isn't a single shadow on the face. Two more days, and the city is left behind. This time the journey must be made in the creaking, springless cart; for there is not time to wait for the slow boat, which on its way up stream would seem scarcely to move. As the road grows rougher, it becomes necessary to ride in sedan chairs, and even these become very uncomfortable before home is reached. The weary travelers are too tired to tell much about their journey. Eat they show the things they have bought. Everything is greatly admired, and a good supper awaits them, but first of all an act of worship must be performed before the ancestral tab- lets. Upon a pedestal of fragrant wood, stands a tab- let which is ten or twelve inches high. This tablet represents one ancestor, and descends from father to son. These tablets are considered the most precious articles in the house. Then the meal is ready. To-night there is a rare treat in the shape of a bird's nest soup. The boy who brought the nests to the farm easily sold his stock.' He was also ready to relate the story of his thrilling adventures in climbing the rocky ledges CHINA. 127 for these same nests of sea weed. Because of the im- portant interests now, httle will be said about the nests, except that the soup is delicious. But weeks hence, after his mother has told him the story, Sing Lee will wake up screaming, from a sleep troubled by dreams of being let down in a basket over a ledge, and there hanging between the sky and the sea, with the sea birds screaming in fright and anger about his head. There can be only a few days in which to rest, for on a farm there is little time for idleness. The owner of the land, although he may have plenty of servants, must be on hand to superintend. For a month the silk worms have been carefully tended, as they alternately fed and slept on the bamboo frame of their little house, where neither noise nor foul odors were allowed to disturb, nor visitors to alarm. The cocoons have all been spun, and now, before the worm awakens and cuts his way out, the threads 128 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. must be unwound. A bath of hot water loosens the thread, but, alas ! it kills the creature inside. How- ever, the grubs are not wasted. They will be eaten, and they are considered delicious. Other duties crowd one upon the other, and win- ter is here at last. The country life is at an end, for the government appointment has come, and Ye Sing is commanded to appear in Pekin. A new life awaits him, one governed by a million rules of etiquette, of which he fortunately is not en- tirely ignorant. Sing Lee will doubtless grow up to be like his father. He, too, may become a mandarin, and be re- spected as a great man by a nation of frugal, sober, and industrious people. I have at home the picture of one great evidence of Chinese industry. Long ago, a troublesome people on the north of the kingdom caused so much destruc- tion, that a great wall was built along the northern border of China to keep them out. Although con- structed three hundred years B. C, it still stands, al- though in some places it is in bad repair. It is twen- ty-five feet high, forty feet broad, and one thousand five hundred miles long. Watch towers rise from the CHINA. 129 wall at regular intervals, as it stretches away over mountains and through valleys. We, with our mod- ern conveniences, can hardly estimate the time, labor, and money spent in erecting this wall, but we can admire the thoroughness of the work. 130 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. GERMANY KLARA N THE walls of a certain castle by the Rhine, hangs a quaint picture of little Lady Klara. Though a child, her eyes seem to speak of the courage and strength which were ever characteris- tic of her during the rough and perilous times in which she lived. As we stand in this strange old hall, gaz- ing into the fearless eyes of Lady Klara, it seems an easy thing to conjure up the people who so long ago feasted within these walls. Let us yield to the impulse, and live again in the unfamiliar scenes of that bygone day. The castle is quiet just now, for the men are away on a hunt. They are sure to bring home plenty of game, for the hunt- ing is fine, and the country abounds in wild forests. Danger adds to the excitement, for the wild boar is a formidable creature to meet, even if one be well armed. But the huntsmen return, bringing a stag. GERMANY. 131 We know they are coining, for horns are heard; the drawbridge is let down over the moat, and the knights come riding over in triumph. The game is cut up in the castle yard, after which the evening is spent in feasting and revelry. An alarming tale is told of how a band of peas- ^ 1 K ^^' ^y^'ipHIP iiii^fc. fet ''^''■■'^~'^^m^ t m — irr-i WF I n ^^ ants had attacked the hunters by suddenly coming upon them in a deserted spot. They claimed that the knights of the castle had done them harm — had tram- pled their fields and seized their lands. The attack, 132 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. however, was unsuccessful, and no danger is felt here inside the castle walls, for the bridge is drawn and the wide moat is filled with water. Soon music is heard outside. The page is sent to bring in the singer, whose songs shall please the f easters and win for him- self a generous reward. In the servant's hall, a group is formed about a peddler who has not only brought articles for sale, but who has that rarest of all things— a newspaper. While the noblemen read the news, which is now several months old, the servants will hear from the mouth of the peddler an account of what is going on in the outer world. There are tales of war between no- blemen, the brave but unsuccessful defense of a weak band, the entrance of the enemy to despoil the castle, and to bear away as captives the fair ladies whom the fortune of war has placed in their power. It is hard to remember that we are safe when we hear of such danger to others. Years pass, and our Lady Klara grows to be a beautiful young woman, and wherever there is feast- ing, men speak of her wonderful beauty. Young and handsome knights come to sue for her hand, and in time she goes to dwell in a castle as the beloved mis- tress of hundreds of loyal servants. But this is the beginning of a more troublous GERMANY. 133 period. There follow wars against foreign invaders, and against bands of peasants who seize this oppor- tunity to obtain revenge for past injuries. Lady Klara tearfully watches her husband ride away at the head of his brave band, and she sets to work to make what defense is possible with the small retinue of trusty men left to guard her. But, why sadden our hearts with the fearful de- tails of that period ? All that is passed, and we are to-day standing in a deserted castle, gazing at the pic- ture of a little girl who lived six hundred years ago. We look about us, and find that in many places the walls have been torn down, the great gaps show- ing the attack of a strong enemy, as well as the rav- ages of time. There is neither feasting nor revelry now, and the drawbridge is unwatched. The ruins are here overlooking the Rhine, but the busy activity of life is elsewhere. Just this side is a great farmhouse with porches supported by stone pillars. The garden and a general air of security tell of peaceful times. The interior of the house is plain but comfortable. Against the plastered walls stand heavy oaken chairs, beautifully carved. On the mantle is a queer old tank- ard with a set of beer steins. A little girl comes running into the room and, 134 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. flinging herself into her mother's arms, seems to be pleading for some favor. We cannot understand what is said, but the word "mutter" touches a common chord. As the mother kisses the pleading face she calls her Klara, and we rightly conclude that she has been named for the Lady Klara, whose picture this little girl dearly loves. A letter has come from the father, who has been a whole month in Berlin, trying to find just the right kind of a home for his wife and daughter. The letter says that success has rewarded his efforts, and in two days he will come to assist with the packing. The mother is sad at the thought of leaving the dear home, with its queer, old fashioned furniture that belonged to her grandmother. She loves the castle ruins, and the beautiful river makes music that to her ear is very sweet. But Klara is glad to leave all these old fashioned things, and is filled with delight at the thought of the new life until the very moment of departure, when her whole heart goes out in one passionate sob as she realizes that this dear home is to pass forever from her life. But wonderful sights meet her on every side, and she has soon dried her tears. The journey is a long and tiresome one, but the new home is reached at last, GERMANY. 135 and then begins the work of placing the few things they have brought with them, so as to make the rooms seem homehke until new things shall have been bought to take the place of the ones left behind. There is already in the house a large porcelain stove, a very grand one of ornamented tile. Almost the first thing Klara's father did was to light some papers in this stove, for the house was damp, and soon there was so much heat that they were forced to open the door. The flames do not show anywhere, but a little fuel will go a great ways in a German stove. Then the boxes are unpacked. The linen is put away in a suitable place, the dishes are unpacked, the beds made, and it is with a great deal of satisfaction that Klara looks about the little room she is to call her own. She carefully puts into shape the wedge-shaped pillow of her bed, straightens the thick, narrow blan- ket, sees that her favorite possessions are in place, and goes to her mother again. She is sent at once to the baker for bread. Klara's mother will not bake bread, for it is the custom to have the baker do that. I think your mother would like such an arrangement, and I know you would en- joy living in a country where two lunches and three meals are served each day. Klara's father has gone for some beer, but he is 136 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. home before Klara has come from the baker, and in a short time the family of three are sitting down to the first meal in the new home. You must not be sur- prised to see them drinking beer, for it is a German custom from which there results neither drunkenness nor quarreling. Night comes, and it is a tired little girl who falls asleep in her new room with scarcely a thought for her old home. Are not her father and mother with her, and are not they all the world to her? Next day there is sauerkraut to be made. You will soon learn that everywhere in Gerr many you find beer, music, and sauerkraut; and, indeed, the odor of sauer- kraut pervades the whole country. This will be a busy day, cutting the cabbages and packing them with layers of salt in tubs, to stand in a warm room until fermentation takes place. At night Mr. Holtz insists on their leaving the house and going with him for a glimpse of the city. f C^ ' /VORTH 1 ^^^C^^^ #j QaG/UMjf \j Va r TiVSSIA TRA/VCE^ 'sJ'U STRIA ' HUMGA ny A'^^ien LA \ GERMANY. 137 They are much top tired for sight seeing, so they all go to a neighboring beer garden and there listen to some fine music; for you must remember that music is everywhere in Germany, and always of the best. Klara's father loves music, and so does the mother, but neither of them is so moved by the music to-night as is Klara, whose nature seems to respond to the grand harmony. Her eyes fill with tears, and she turns to her father, saying, "May I not learn to play?" The father and mother exchange glances, for it has been their fondest hope that this one child of theirs should choose to be a musician. But the father only smiles down into his daughter's eager face and says: "Wait a few days, my daughter, and we will talk it over; but to-morrow night I will take you to the larg- est music hall there is in the city. There will be as many as 4,000 people, all able to find seats, and that with only one gallery." With this promise Klara is content, and in her little room to-night she falls asleep to dream that she has been asked to play for the great Kaiser himself, and had done so with such success that he had presented her with a gold chain. Next evening they go to the concert hall, and Klara is more sure than ever that she wants to learn to play; so next day, a little after noon, she, and her father, start out to find a teacher. They pass through 138 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. streets full of interesting sights, but none of these things still the happy voice in the girl's heart that keeps saying: "I am going to learn to play, I am going to learn to play." As they reach the great school for music,- a shy- ness causes Klara to draw close to her father, and, as they enter the great door, she seizes his hand and holds it tight. They go first to the oflice and are told the great teacher will see them in half an hour. A young American girl is already seated in the room. She has been weeping, and Klara whispers to her father: "May I speak to the lady?" Receiving per- mission, she inquires the cause of the lady's trouble, and receives an answer in broken German very dif- ficult to understand. The young lady, it seems, has come from America to finish her music. She has been taught by good teachers who praised her unsparingly, and said she needed only a little study abroad to make her famous. Yesterday she came to see the great teacher, and he told her she must begin to work on scales and finger exercises. He would not promise her advanced work for a longtime. She had gone away discouraged, but this morning she has come ta begin her lessons — she consents to begin at the very beginning, only a great homesickness has overtaken her, and — yes, she has been crying. Already she GERMANY. 139 feels better because of Klara's sweet sympathy. As some one comes to show the girl to her class, the con- versation is interrupted; and soon after, the great teacher himself enters the room. Arrangements are quickly made. Klara is to be under the instruction of one of the Herr Professor's best pupils. He is very kind and gentle with her, and does not seem one bit like the great man he is said to be. On their return, they stop to hear the band, which is giving an open air concert in the park, and then they reach home just as the chimes are ringing from the tower. In a moment the street is filled with a crowd of people who have paused to listen, and then, as the strains die away, travel is resumed, and the street takes on its usual appearance. The postman has brought a letter which contains good news. Klara's cousin Joseph is coming to the city to school. He will be very welcome in the family of his father's brother. The welcome is quite apparent at the station when he arrives, and Klara soon learns that Joseph is a boy on whom all sympathy is wasted. He isn't homesick, he is pleased with all he sees, and full of "all the things he shall do when he is fully established in the cadet school. He thinks, however, it will be great fun to spend all his holidays with Klara, and I doubt 140 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. not that he finds her a very interested listener. Next day Joseph is taken to the school, where he is to remain for a year, being allowed to visit his uncle on holidays. His head is filled with all sorts of plans for mischief, when he is shown the large room where all the cadets sleep. The long rows of beds suggest all sorts of schemes for the discomfort of his school- mates. The daily program is shown to him, and he soon sees there is a time for everything except play. The program gives the rising drum at six; breakfast at seven; then prayers, followed by muster; daily pa- rade at twelve, and then dinner; a light lunch at four; and supper at seven. By nine all are in bed. While Joseph is being assigned a place in the schoolroom, Mr. Holtz is talking with the master about the schools of Germany. It is quite evident from their talk that the schools of Germany aim at but little, and accomplish it — having for their great object the training of thinking men. The two gen- tlemen agree that the hours of school are too long. Joseph would agree to this, and he would also have agreed to the next statement — that there is too little play. He would rather have one playground than a whole city full of gymnasiums; but children are rarely seen playing noisy outdoor games, and, although GERMANY. 141 wonderful toys are made in Germany, they are rarely seen in the hands of German children. But this discussion sounds very uninteresting to most of us, and we are very glad when the arrival of Joseph breaks up the conversation. Joseph bids fare- well to his uncle, and the young student begins his life in the cadet school. Now that the Holtz family is finally settled, a servant must be found to help with the work. This is a very difficult task, for a strong woman is needed who can do the heavy work. There are all sorts of applicants for the position. Some are inexperienced, some are not strong, and some want too much pay. At last the right kind of a girl is found, who will work for what would be equal in our money to $2.50 a month, and that is considered very good pay. I think one thing that secures her the position is the fact that Klara's mother has some thought of visiting a distant relative in France, and sees in this servant one who would be a help in trav- eling. Of course, in that case, the servant would ex- pect no wages — except the amount of her traveling expenses. She would consider the advantages for sightseeing more than enough to make up for the loss of her wages. Klara's father has secured a position as director 142 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. in a boy's gymnasium, and is learning to like the work very well. He has been a soldier so long that it seemed hard at first to settle down to regular work. Like every German in good health, he was trained as a soldier, that there might be plenty of soldiers for the army in case of war. At twenty he was put into the reserve army, then he served a term of four years in the regular army, and was then relieved from further service. His tall, straight, figure and military carriage helped to secure the position which he now holds, and for which he is well prepared. With Klara, time passes very rapidly, and she can hardly believe it is so near Christmas; but the calendar tells truly, and a letter from Joseph, though brief and boy-like in its composition, tells unmistak- ably that he is coming to spend the holidays. He is to arrive the day before Christmas, so Klara has taken the morning of his arrival for a thoughtful act of charity that she has been planning. She packs a large basket with delicacies, some of which she has herself made, puts in a warm shawl, some flannel, and a bright red scarf, and finding the load too heavy for her, she summons Gretchen, and together they take their way toward the home of a peasant woman who lives on the outskirts of the city. Klara first saw this woman last spring, and had been moved to pity at the GERMANY. 143 sight of an old woman driving a heavy plow in the little garden where later she expected to plant and care for enough vegetables to support herself and eight grandchildren, while her son was in the army. On this December day, she sees the woman about to enter the house, bearing on her head, upon a small round cushion, a heavy basket full of fuel. Behind her comes her eldest grand- daughter, carrying as heavy a load, sus- pended from a yoke, beneath which the young shoulders bend with fatigue. Very welcome are the gifts found in Klara's basket, and we know something of the happiness that is in Klara's own heart, as she hurries homeward to see if Joseph has yet come. Yes, he has arrived in her absence, and she finds 144 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. him just the same Joseph whose acquaintance she made months ago. He almost immediately begins to tell her of the tricks he has helped to play on the "knapsacks," and from that you may know that Joseph is not a "knap- sack." This is his second year in school, although only the first year in Berlin, and a "knapsack" is a first year pupil. Joseph has nothing to say concerning his first year in Stuttgart. He had his full share of trou- ble, you may be sure; but all that is forgotten now, and he turns his whole attention toward teasing the boys who are under him. He tells Klara how they punished Hans, who was selfish. He had received some nuts from home, and had not shared them with the . other boys, but had hidden them away, that he might feast by himself. Of course, the second year boys found out the hiding place, and the next time he went to eat a portion of the nuts, he found only the empty shells — ^the kernels had all been removed. Nick was a boy with a quick temper. He was also irritable and altogether disagreeable. He found himself imprisoned in his cupboard, and was not re- leased until he ceased his angry beating against the door. He learned to be more civil to his companions, and to restrain the expression of his evil temper. He GERMANY. MS: wanted to "tell" on his tormentors, and had serious thoughts of doing so, but was restrained by his one intimate friend, who persuaded him that he would only add to his troubles. Fritz was a temptation to any boy inclined to mischief. He believed anything he heard. One night, the boys told him to look at the stars through his coat sleeve, and declared that he would see a new con- stellation. He innocently did as he was bid, followed , the boys to a window, pulled off his coat, and, using the sleeve for a telescope, received the contents of a water pitcher full in his face. How angry he was ! In rage, he struck the cadet nearest him, and as a re- sult had a whole class of cadets upon him, who dealt punishment so thoroughly that he thereafter remem- , bered to treat the cadets with proper respect, and keep all his force and anger for "knapsacks." All this sounds very wicked to Klara; but her father, remembering his own boyhood days, smiles indulgently and says nothing. Now you won't expect me to tell you all that hap- pens to Klara during the spring months and the fol- lowing summer, but I must tell you about her trip to Strasburg in the fall. She went with her father alone. She had never before left her mother for a whole day, but she was quite sensible and grown-up about it, and 146 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. was SO busy sightseeing that she had httle time for homesickness. The train to Strasburg would have seemed to us very sl'ow, but to Klara it seemed to bear her on with lightning speed. What the trains lack in speed they make up in safety and good management. You see, the doors can be opened only by a railroad official, and he carefully locks all the doors before the train starts, so you never see a passenger jumping on a car after the train has started. Klara had charge of her own ticket, and handed it out to the conductor as he passed along the outside. They stopped at many beautiful depots, that were not only beautiful but comfortable as well; with a sep- arate room for the nobility, a second for the common people, and a third for the very poor. Almost every five minutes, they passed a hop yard, and Klara decided for herself that a great many people must be raising hops. When they were not passing hop yards, they were sure to see fields of sugar beets, for it is an easy crop to raise in the cli- mate of Germany. This was a new sight to Klara, and learning that they were sugar beets she imme- diately asked her father if he meant candy beets. He laughed very heartily at her mistake, and told her that GERMANY. 147 it takes at least ten pounds of beets to make a pound of sugar. You see, Klara had lived all her life near the old castle, and was very ignorant in some matters. Many of the things that so interested her might have been seen within a few miles of her old home, had she been allowed to go about by herself. Now she was begin- ning to get her eyes open, and was very ready with questions. At Strasburg, she was left much alone, for her father had to attend to a great deal of business; but one pleasant day he took her with him for a lovely ride into the country. They found some men cut- ting flax in the fields, and she had to stop to look at them. She actually in- quired of the men if they intended to make the flax into thread on the morrow; and they smiled and told her that the flax must be dried for many days and then pounded and drawn into fibres with a hetchel before thread could be made. 148 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. They showed her some of the flax they had left uncut to raise seed for the manufacture of oil. Then they drove on for miles, and came at last to a large vineyard on a sunny slope. The overseer was very polite to them, and showed them over the entire property. They walked through rows and rows of low vines, that had been trimmed to keep the grapes within reach. The stakes that had been placed throughout the entire vineyard, supported the heavily loaded vines, and kept from decay the large clusters of grapes that grew underneath. "I did not know it was quite harvest time," said Mr. Holtz to the over- seer. "Oh, yes," was the answer, "the government watch was taken away, and the official announcement was issued some time ago." "I don't quite under- stand;" interrupted Mr. Holtz, "are your vineyards guarded by a government watchman?" "Exactly that," was the courteous reply, "at least when the grapes are ripening. When the harvest is ripe, an official announcement is made of the fact, and we begin work." "How far does your property extend?" is the next question. "See that row of trees to the left," said the man; "our yards extend east as far as that, and west to the narrow path which you can scarcely see. GERMANY. 149 up the slope as far as its summit, and down into the valley below." The three then passed to where men, women, and even children were cutting the grapes from the vines. As soon as a basket was filled, it was taken to the presses, and other workmen picked the grapes from the stem and threw them into large vats or tubs. Just as our people ap- proached, a man was preparing to press the grapes, the vat being just full enough. While Klara looked on in disgust, he jumped into the vat and began to trample upon the grapes with his bare feet, and soon there rose about his ankles a rich purple pool that sent a heavy odor of crushed fruit to mingle with the summer air. "Oh, why don't they use a machine?" Klara could keep still no longer. The explanation was reasonable, if not satisfactory to Klara. This seemed to be the only way in which the juice could be extracted without bruising the skins to such an extent as would ruin the flavor of the wine. 150 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. Near by were several casks which had just been filled, closed, and dated. "It is almost time to stop work," said the over- seer, "let me show you what we do with the refuse of skins, seeds, and stems, and then we can come back here just in time to see the last cask filled to-night. It is a sight that may interest you." So they went to see the great press where skins and seeds all went in together in one shapeless mass, and came out neat cakes to be dried and sold for fuel at about one cent apiece. Then they went back to the wine vats. The labor- ers were gathering in from all directions, and while they stood chattering in groups, the cask was filled, closed, and rolled into the midst of the assembled harvesters. "Hilda, it is your turn to-day," shouted one. "Where is your violin, Otto?" shouted another; and amidst a good natured fire of questions and teasing remarks, Hilda, a pretty girl, mounted the cask, and from a violin came the first strains of a lively air, to the accompaniment of which Hilda danced very gracefully and well; while here and there, other danc- ers proved that there were many light hearts in the little company. After the dance was finished, the peasants left in GERMANY. 151 groups of twos or threes, busily talking of the ball which was to celebrate the completion of the vintage, at which each girl would wear her gayest ribbons, and toward which the thoughts of all the young peo- ple had been turning ever since the harvest had begun. It was now too late to ride far, so Mr. Holtz drove on to a small inn, where rest and refreshment were found for the night. Two or three mornings later, as Klara lay asleep in Strasburg, she was awakened by a cry of fire. Going to the window, she discovered that a building across the street was burning. She became very much alarmed, and her father just then entering the room, found a very frightened little daughter. He told her there was not the least danger, for most of the build- ings were fire proof, and even if left alone the fire would burn itself out. Then, to make her laugh, he gave the description of a fire in Heidelberg, as told by an eye witness. He said that, when the alarm was first sounded, the firemen went home to put on their uni- forms, and after surrounding the burning building, they stood at attention while their chief delivered an impressive speech. Then followed a discussion of the best plan of action, and by the time they were ready to act, the fire had burned quite out. 152 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. By the time he had finished the story, Klara was calm again, and ready for breakfast. Then he took her for a Httle sightseeing through the city, for this was to be their last day in Strasburg. Then came the journey back to Berlin and mother. It was a very tired but happy little girl that walked beside her father along Unter den Linden*. She glanced at the elegant carriages full of gay people on either side of her, and at the handsome horsemen, and a feeling of pity entered her heart, for they had not been with father to Strasburg. She paused under the beautiful arch at the southern end and, gazing up at the bronze car of victory, said shyly to her father: "The other cities were beautiful, but I like Berlin best of all." They passed on, and a few moments later she caught sight of her mother stand- ing in the door. All else was forgotten in her joy at being in those dear arms once more, as she said over and over again: "Liebe Mutter, Liebe Mutter." *Unter den Linden is the most beautiful street of Berlin, end- ing in the famous Arch of Triumph. PRONOUNCING VOCABULARY abdomen Al Kendi anaconda anemone Arab armadillo azalea Berlin bouquetin cabeciido cacao cecropia chalet chamois . chinchilla cocoon Commune conjure cormorant crocodile Eskimo falcon farinha gazelle gentian glaucous Gozo Hammerstein Hamid Hassan hippopotamus horizon ibex Innuit ab do' men Al Ken' di an a con' da a nem' o ne Ar'ab ar ma dil' lo a za' le a Ber' Im (bo ke tan') ca be gu do (ka' ko) (se kro'pi a) (sha la') (sham' me) chinchil' la CO coon' Com' mune (kiin' jur) cor' mo rant croc' o dile Es' ki mo (faw' kn) (fa ri' na) ga zelle' (jen' shan) glau' cous Go' z6 Ham' mer stein Ham' id Has' san hip po pot' a mu; ho rl' zon i' bex In' nu it Jules Kaiser Klara Kongo Kudlu kyack lammer-geyer mandiock Marja marmoset mollusks Mongolian Narmick Nubian Oolong oomiack papyrus Pekin plantain porcelain reindeer reptile rhinoceros Sapucaia Sassumack sauer kraut scorpion sheik sirocco Strasburg Stuttgart Switzerland tambouring tapioca tsetse vvhydah (Julz) (Ki'zer) Kla' ra Kong' o Kud' lu (Id' ack) (lam mer gii' er) man' di ock (Marzh'a) mar' mo set mol' lusks Mon go' li an Nar' mick Nu' bi an oo' long do' mi ack pa py' rus Pe' kin (plan' tin) por' ce lain rein' deer rep' tile (ri nos' er os) (Sapoki' a) Sas su' mack (sour' krout) scor' pi on (shek) si roc' CO Stras' burg (Stoot'gart) Swit' zer land tam bour' ing tap i 6' ca tset' se (hwld' a) zu senn' MAY 12 1904