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BANCROFT 
 LIBRARY 
 
 O 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
THE 
 
 GREAT BONANZA. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED NAERATIVE 
 
 OF 
 
 ADVENTURE AND DISCOVERY 
 
 IN 
 
 GOLD MINING, SILVER MINING, AMONG THE RAFTSMEN, IN THE 
 
 OIL REGIONS, WHALING, HUNTING, FISHING, 
 
 AND FIGHTING. 
 
 BY 
 
 OLIVER OPTIC, R. M. BALLANTYNE, CAPT. CHAS, W. HALL,. 
 C. E. BISHOP, FRANK H. TAYLOR, 
 
 AND OTHER POPULAR WRITERS. 
 
 WITH TWO HUNDRED ILLUSTRATIONS, 
 
 BY W. L, SHEPPARD, FRANK MERRILL, H. L. STEPHENS, MISS L. B. HUMPHREY,. 
 
 AND OTHER WELL-KNOWN ARTISTS. 
 
 BOSTON : 
 
 LEE & SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 LEE, SHEPARD & DILLINGHAM. 
 1876. 
 
F 
 
 G 
 
 1875 
 
60030 
 
 r BANCROFT 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE GREAT BONANZA Capt. C. W. Hall. . . 7 
 
 1. THE RUNAWAYS. 
 
 2. THE FORTUNES OF THE RUNAWAYS. 
 
 With 6 Illustrations by Frank Merrill. 
 
 VACATION IN PETROLIA/. ..... C. E. Bishop 23 
 
 1. BORING FOR OIL. 
 
 2. BOATING OIL. POND FRESHETS. 
 
 3- UPS AND DOWNS OF THE OlL BUSINESS. 
 
 4. PUMPING OIL. "TORPEDOING" THE WELL. 
 
 5. MARKETING OIL. A FIERY FRESHET. 
 
 6. PROSPECTING FOR TERRITORY. FINDING "THE BELT." 
 7. THE FLAG-AND- WINDMILL WELL No. 2. CONCLUSION. 
 
 With 44 Illustrations by Frank Merrill and others. 
 
 AMONG THE RAFTSMEN Frank H. Taylor. . . 71 
 
 1. MAKING RAFTS. 4. RUNNING THE RAPIDS. 
 
 2. RAFTING. 5. ON THE RIVER. 
 
 3. DOWN THE CREEK. 6. FORAGING. CONCLUSION. 
 
 With 35 Illustrations by H. L. Stephens. 
 
 THE CAMP IN THE GULCH Justin Dale.. . . . 103 
 
 1. THE MARCH. THE CAMP. THE LECTURE-COURSE. 
 
 2. THE SAINTS IN THE VALLEYS IN THE MOUNTAINS. 
 
 3. THE SHINOMOS, OR THE ARTISTS OF NATURE. 
 
 4. Tim UNKNOWN RIVER. 
 
 5. SOME NOBLE RED MEN. 
 
 6. LAST DAYS. FAREWELL, OLD FRIENDS. 
 
 With 26 Illustrations by W. L. SJieppard and others. 
 
 GETTING ON SEA LEGS An Old Salt. . . . 146 
 
 With 5 Illustrations by Frank Merrill. 
 
 WHALING ON THE CROZETS An Old Salt. . . . 157 
 
 With 2 Illustrations. 
 
 ACROSS THE INDIAN OCEAN An Old Salt. ... 163 
 
 With Full-page Illustration. 
 
 GOLD MINING Chas. A. Hoyt. ... 169 
 
 With 6 Illustrations by Miss L. B. Humphrey. 
 
6 CONTENTS. 
 
 SILVER MINING Chas. A. Hoyt. . 
 
 With 7 Illustrations by Miss L. B. Humphrey. 
 
 A LONDON FIREMAN'S "NIGHT OF IT." R. M. Ballantyne. 
 
 With 5 Illustrations by Miss L. B. Humphrey. 
 
 SARDINES Geo.W. Fowle. . 
 
 WHERE THEY COME FROM, AND HOW THEY ARE CAUGHT. 
 
 With 7 Illustrations by Miss L. B. Humphrey. 
 
 ICE BOATING W.P.Duncan. . 
 
 With 3 Illustrations. 
 
 A BULL-FIGHT IN MADRID Oliver Optic. . . 
 
 With 7 Illustrations. 
 
 YACHTS AND YACHTING Oliver Optic. . . 
 
 With 3 Illustrations. 
 
 LITTLE BUILDERS Samuel Burnham. 
 
 i. BEAVERS. 2. TERMITES. 
 
 With 9 Illustrations. 
 
 ON THE WAR PATH J. H. W. . . . 
 
 With an Illustration. 
 
 A STORY OF THE OLDEN TIME. . . J. H. W. . . . 
 
 With 6 Illustrations. 
 
 BAFFLED REVENGE J. H. W. . . . 
 
 With 2 Illustrations. 
 
 THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL. . . T. W. Higginson. 
 
 With 3 Illustrations by Frank Merrill and others. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 IS/ 
 
 194 
 I 9 8 
 2O4 
 209 
 
 216 
 
 222 
 231 
 
 235 
 
 VIENNA Mary Granger Chase. . 239 
 
 With 6 Illustrations. 
 
 ADVENTURES OF A WILD GOOSE. . Capt. C. W. Hall. . . 245 
 
 With 5 Illustrations. 
 
 REMINISCENCES OF WEST AFRICAN 
 
 LIFE Edward Dusseault, Jr. 252 
 
 With 2 Illustrations. 
 
 ASHES OF ROSES Geo. M. Baker. ... 257 
 
 With 6 Illustrations by Miss L. B. Humphrey. 
 
 
 v 
 
 Vf 
 
 K\ 
 
THE 
 
 GREAT BONANZA. 
 
 BY 
 
 CAPT. CHARLES W. HALL, 
 
 AUTHOR OF " ADRIFT IN THE ICE FIELDS," ETC. 
 
 ART I. 
 
 THE RUNAWAYS. 
 
 IT was nine o'clock, and the bell of the Riv- 
 erport Academy had summoned its motley 
 throng of boys and girls from their favorite 
 play-ground, the sandy knoll in front. Mr. 
 Stone, the principal, seated himself at his 
 desk on the high platform and struck his little 
 bell sharply : instantly the girls ceased their 
 smiles, their flirting of gay head-ribbons and 
 glossy curls, and the furtive whispers, which 
 sought to finish the communication inter- 
 rupted by the school-bell; the boys braced 
 themselves sharply back in their seats, folded 
 their arms, and were silent. 
 
 " Boys, answer to your names," said the 
 principal, as the lady assistant opened the re- 
 gister, and in clear, distinct tones read oft* the 
 surnames of the boy scholars. 
 
 "Appleton, Ames, Amory, Bearse, Barry, 
 Boyd Boyd ? " 
 
 The first five names had been promptly an- 
 swered by the monosyllable "Here;" but as 
 the principal heard the sixth name repeated, 
 
 without an answer, he frowned angrily, and 
 made a gesture ; the reader understood, and 
 all was silence. 
 
 " How long has Edward Boyd been absent, 
 Miss Nye?" 
 
 "This is the third half day, sir," answered 
 the lady. 
 
 " Is your cousin sick, Amory?" 
 
 The question was asked of a tall, pale lad, 
 the son of the guardian of the absent scholar, 
 for Edward Boyd was an orphan, the only- 
 son of a sea captain, who had amassed much 
 wealth only to die, leaving his motherless boy 
 to the guardianship of Squire Amory a 
 grasping and unamiable man. It was well 
 known among the villagers that the dead fa- 
 ther's wealth had been unable to secure either 
 comfort or a happy home for his child among 
 his envious relations. 
 
 " He started for school yesterday morning 
 with Sam Nevins, and hasn't been home since, 
 sir," said Stephen Amory, with a slight sneer. 
 " Father thinks he has gone to see his grand- 
 father at Concord." 
 
 At that moment came a sharp knock at the 
 outer door : the monitor answered the sum- 
 mons, and soon returned, followed by one of 
 the constables of the town, who spoke a few 
 words to the master in a grave tone. Mr. 
 
8 
 
 THE GREAT BONANZA. 
 
 Stone paled, then cleared his voice, and ad- 
 dressed the scholars : 
 
 "I am sorry to learn that Edward Boyd 
 and Sam Kevins, who played truant yesterday, 
 were seen in a boat at the Old Harbor at the 
 time, by a fisherman, going outside. This 
 morning their boat was found adrift, with an 
 old suit of clothes in the bottom, and Mrs. 
 Nevins has identified them as belonging to her 
 son. It is feared that he went in bathing, and 
 that some sad accident has occurred, in which 
 both boys have lost their lives." 
 
 The silence for an instant was awful in its 
 completeness ; then a shriek was heard on the 
 girls' side, and Laura Amory, a quiet, delicate 
 girl of twelve, fainted in her seat, and all was 
 bustle and confusion for a moment, while tears 
 and sobs testified to the sorrow of the children 
 for their lost playmates. Miss Nye, however, 
 with two of the older girls, took the insensi- 
 ble form to the recitation-room, and Mr. Stone 
 spoke again, in tones far different from his 
 usual sharp accent : 
 
 " We will hope for the best ; and as the boys 
 of the school are accustomed to spend their 
 holidays among the wooded islands and the 
 beech hills below, it is requested that you 
 join the search for your missing companions. 
 School is accordingly dismissed for the day; 
 you will find at the pier several large boats 
 ready to take you down the harbor." 
 
 It is not my intention to describe the futile 
 search, which lasted several days, or the use- 
 less dragging of the oozy channels near the 
 shore where the boat was found ; but neither 
 " Ed " nor " Sam " was found, and the letters 
 despatched to the different parts of the coun- 
 try by the guardian of the former were only 
 answered by expressions of alarm and sympa- 
 thy. The village paper was full of unusual 
 interest for a fortnight, with particulars of 
 "A Mysterious Disappearance," "A Sad 
 Occurrence ; " and a liberal extract from the 
 sermon preached by the good old minister, 
 when there could be but little doubt that the 
 salt sea had indeed swallowed up our play- 
 mates. 
 
 In poorer taste, and productive of much 
 comment, was an address to the Sunday 
 school by Mr. Amory, who drew from " a 
 recent sad occurrence, a solemn warning to 
 truant scholars and disobedient children ; " nor 
 was the public indignation lessened when, in 
 his wife's name, he laid claim to the entire 
 property of his nephew, and obtained it, with- 
 out paying even the cheap tribute of a marble 
 slab to the memory of the dead boy. 
 
 Poor Mrs. Nevins wept much over her lost 
 
 boy; but the poor have many sorrows, and 
 the widow's struggles to obtain a support for 
 her three remaining children soon blunted 
 the poignancy of her grief, and the fate of 
 both the bovs was forgotten in the constant 
 changes of human life, or recalled only by a 
 few, who could scarcely forget the stout form 
 and rosy cheeks of Eddie Boyd, and the thinly- 
 clad limbs, and colorless, resolute face of Sam 
 Nevins. 
 
 That was fourteen years ago. A long time 
 since, as one of the elder boys, I had graduated 
 from the academy, and after six years of study, 
 had returned to Riverport to practise medi- 
 cine; for the old family doctor had become 
 feeble, and wanted a younger man to visit his 
 patients far away down the sandy coast, or to 
 face the driving rain and sharp, short seas, 
 when a sudden summons came from the fish- 
 ing hamlets among the islands. 
 
 One night, when a north-easter was driving 
 the sleety snow, like clouds of Liliputian 
 arrows, into the smarting face of the traveller, 
 and the war of the breakers on the bar below 
 came up the bay like the distant slogan of a 
 charging brigade, I received a summons which 
 I could not deny, for it called me to the bed- 
 side of the old fisherman, who had last set 
 eyes on the missing lads. He had fallen from 
 the mast of his large boat, and broken his 
 arm, besides receiving other injuries, and it 
 was feared that he was dying. 
 
 A stanch whale-boat, with five skilled oars- 
 men, awaited me at the wharf; but the pas- 
 sage was long and doubtful, and the short, 
 sharp seas filled the craft half way to her 
 gunwale, before we at last landed upon the 
 island. 
 
 I found my patient, old Job Fisher, anxious- 
 ly expecting my coming ; and after looking at 
 the fracture, a simple one of the bone above 
 the elbow, 'I proceeded to examine into his 
 other injuries. These were more serious ; he 
 had struck heavily on his breast and side, 
 among the ballast, and drew his breath with 
 much difficulty, and in great pain. I set the 
 bone, left some simple alleviating medicines, 
 and was abovit to take my leave, when the pa- 
 tient suddenly asked to speak with me alone, 
 and the rest of the family rose and left 'the 
 room. 
 
 " I want to know, doctor," said he, " what 
 you think of my case. Can I recover?" 
 
 I hesitated fora moment, and then answered 
 frankly, " I can't tell now, Mr. Fisher, for 
 your serious injuries are internal, and a day 
 or two must elapse before I can say. You 
 must hope for the best; and I need not tell 
 
THE GREAT BONANZA. 
 
 you that quiet and cheerfulness are jour best 
 remedies." 
 
 The fisherman sighed heavily, and then said, 
 "I see that you fear the worst, and I hope 
 that God's will will prove my happiness ; but 
 there is one thing that has weighed upon my 
 mind. You remember the time the two lads 
 were said to be drowned, Squire Amory's 
 nephew, and the other? " 
 
 ."Yes, indeed, I do." 
 
 " Well, 'twas the squire and I that came 
 across the boat in the little cove at the back 
 of the island. I rowed up to her, and the 
 squire looked in ; a queer smile came over his 
 face, and then he checked it like, and said, 
 ' Poor fellows, they've been drowned. There's 
 no doubt of it.' 
 
 "Well, I didn't think at first but what it 
 might have been so. I towed the boat up 
 
 towards the town ; but as I rowed up, it came 
 into my mind that the boat was drifting away 
 from the shore -when -we found it, and some- 
 how or other, I didn't feel satisfied that the 
 boys had been lost out of her. Then we got 
 to the wharf, and the squire told everybody 
 how the boat had been found adrift, and the 
 clothes of one boy in her; and so all hands 
 believed that Sam had gone in swimming, and 
 got the cramp, and that Eddie was lost in try- 
 ing to save him. 
 
 " Well, sir, the boat, when we got her, was 
 all ship-shape, with two pairs of sculls stowed 
 under the seats, with thole-pins shipped and 
 baler aft, just as we haul our dories up on the 
 beach; and when I got home, my John said, 
 ' Father, there was an extra high tide to-day, 
 and our dories at the Point got adrift before I 
 thought of it, and gave me a long row.' 
 
 " Next morning the squire came down, and 
 talked to me about dragging for the bodies. 
 Says I, ' Squire, there's a chance them boys is 
 alive yet; ' and then I told him about the do- 
 ries, and that the wind and tide would never 
 have carried a boat into that cove from any 
 other part of the bay. ' It's my opinion,' I 
 says to him, ' that they've run away, and left 
 the boat there, and the tide came up higher 
 than they expected.' 
 
 " 'You talk like a fool,' says he, as wrathy as 
 could be; 'don't say anything like that to 
 anybody else, for you'll only excite false hope, 
 that'll never be realized. I shall be very angry 
 if you do, and I know you love home too well 
 to displease me.' 
 
 " That was the only time in my life that I 
 was afraid to speak right out as I thought. 
 The season had been unfavorable ; the squire 
 held a mortgage on my little place, and I said 
 nothing. I don't know whether I did right or 
 not, but I never yet felt as though those boys 
 were dead." 
 
 "Well, Job, I will keep your secret, although 
 I think that the boys must be dead, or else we 
 should have heard something of them in all 
 these years. Now, don't talk any more, and 
 don't worry about Squire Amory's misuse of 
 his power over you, for there are few who 
 would not have done exactly as you did ; " and 
 leaving my patient I returned home. 
 
 Job Fisher did not die, but his recovery was 
 slow and doubtful ; and before he could again 
 accompany his sons to the fishing-grounds, I 
 was suddenly called upon by Stephen Amory, 
 for my senior was away on a short visit. His 
 father had had an attack of apoplexy. 
 
 On arriving, I found that the attack was 
 slight; one of those warnings, not to be neg- 
 lected, of a danger which may be avoided 
 by proper remedies, a suitable dietary, and a 
 careful avoidance of everything that tends to 
 irritate or excite the brain. The usual reme- 
 dies soon restored him, and he was borne 
 from his library, where the servant had been 
 called to his aid, to his chamber. As I gath- 
 ered up my instruments, I found on the floor 
 a letter which he had evidently dropped from 
 his hand. It was small, and written on a dirty 
 fly leaf, in a painfully cramped hand. In hopes 
 to ascertain the cause of the attack, I read the 
 short missive, which ran as follows : 
 
 " New York April 6 1865 
 Squier Amory 
 
 this is too let you no that Eddy 
 is Sick, and i am Afrade hee will dy. I am Sick 
 to, the doktor ses, we hav tifuss fever, the 
 mann who kepes the hows Mr. James Tranor, 
 
10 
 
 THE GREAT BONANZA. 
 
 sais hee will doo his best, till yu kum. Hee 
 livs att Number 123 east 34 Street. Kum rite 
 away yurs Samuel Nevins." 
 
 The paper almost dropped from my hands, 
 as I realized the cruelty and deceit of the man 
 whose life I had just helped to lengthen. The 
 fisherman's story was not without its bearing, 
 then ; and folding the paper, I placed it in my 
 medicine case for future use, should time bring 
 round a day of reckoning. On following the 
 patient to his chamber, I found him much 
 more comfortable; and making an appoint- 
 ment for a visit the following day, I returned 
 home. 
 
 The next morning I found the old man sit- 
 ting up in an easy-chair, and tried to draw 
 from him the cause of his indisposition. I 
 questioned him about his diet, inquired into 
 his occupation of late, told him I " knew that 
 undue use of ardent spirits could not be the 
 cause of it," and finally gave him the advice 
 so often given to those similarly attacked, and 
 so often neglected, or given too late, when it 
 is impossible for the patient to follow it. 
 
 "You must accept this first and slight at- 
 tack as a warning; the next may be fatal ; but 
 the third is a summons from which there can 
 be no appeal. Medicine can do but little to 
 aid you. A light diet, very moderate exercise, 
 avoidance of extreme heat and impure air, 
 and the enjoyment of what the apostle styles 
 ' a mind void of offence toward God and 
 man,' will keep the life-torrent in its wonted 
 channels, and prevent the suffusion of the 
 brain." 
 
 " Can you not give my son or wife direc- 
 tions that they can follow, previous to your 
 arrival, in case of another attack?" 
 
 "Certainly, although the chance of their 
 materially aiding you is very remote indeed." 
 
 The word " chance " seemed to excite him a 
 little. " If you had had my experience, doc- 
 tor, you would not speak slightingly of 
 chances. I have known men on the brink 
 of ruin, who had but one remote chance in 
 their favor. They took it and are rich men 
 to-day." 
 
 I longed to tell him that I knew of the 
 chance that had given me the clew to the fate 
 of his lost nephew, so cruelly left to die in 
 some obscure boarding-house of the distant 
 city; but I saw the flush upon his face, and 
 paused. I was a physician, and knew my 
 duty. 
 
 " You are getting excited, Squire Amory. 
 The discussion would be interesting, no doubt, 
 but you must rest until you are stronger." 
 
 The gray eyes lost their keen, triumphant 
 glance, and the successful plotter was lost in 
 the enfeebled and apprehensive invalid. 
 
 " You think that any unexpected and excit- 
 ing emotion would be dangerous do you, 
 doctor? " 
 
 "I should fear the worst," said I, gravely, 
 "although the 'third attack is generally the 
 fatal visitation. In your state of health, your 
 life should be attended by the love of those 
 around you, and that calm hope of a better 
 and higher life which secures the soul from 
 the vexations and disappointments of this 
 stage of existence." 
 
 " I think I may claim such a hope, doctor, 
 notwithstanding the slanders and backbiting 
 of some who are but a hinderance and a scan- 
 dal to the church in which I have been a 
 member for thirty years." 
 
 The color was rising again in his flushed 
 cheeks, and raising an admonitory finger, I 
 bowed and took my leave. 
 
 Two years after that, a great surprise elec- 
 trified Riverport, and set all the lovers of 
 gossip in a perfect fever of excitement. Mrs. 
 Nevins, at the close of a day of unusually 
 hard labor, was returning homeward, wo'rn 
 out in body and mind, when suddenly, as she 
 turned into the narrow lane that led from the 
 main street to the door of her cottage, a man 
 heavily bearded, but young and well dressed, 
 accosted her, and asked her name. 
 
 " Now don't be afeard, marm, for if I am a 
 rough customer, I've come this time on a wel- 
 cum arind to you; thet is, ef you're the widder 
 Nevins." 
 
 "That is what I've been called ever since 
 Joshua that's my husband as was was lost 
 in the Arethusy." 
 
 "Wai, my arind's soon done, if you can 
 answer a few questions. You had a son Sam 
 once, I b'lieve." 
 
 " Yes, he was drowned long of " 
 
 " Ned Boyd, I s'pose you was about ter say. 
 Say now, marm, I've heerd that story afore, 
 an' know about the boat, an' the clo'es. Now, 
 was there anything in the pockets?" 
 
 " Nothin' but a little Test'ment his teacher 
 gin him at Sunday school, an' thet hed " 
 
 " Exactly, marm, es you say, I s'pose; but 
 could you let me see the Testyment, that is, 
 ef you've no objection ter my goin' down ter 
 the house with you." 
 
 A negative could scarcely be given, and the 
 stranger entered the house, whose dilapidated 
 walls and poorly furnished interior evidently 
 caused him much surprise, as evinced by a 
 low, but long-continued whistle. He, however, 
 
THE GREAT BONANZA. 
 
 II 
 
 made no remark, but taking the book, held it 
 up to the solitary candle for a moment, and 
 then from under his ample cloak took a stout 
 and heavy bag. 
 
 u I'm satisfied, marm, that you're all right, 
 and you'll be able after this, I reckon, to stay 
 at hum an' take things easier. Ef I don't tell 
 you all I might, it's because I hes strict orders, 
 an' I allus keep my word. Look at the fly- 
 leaf of the Testyment, an' you'll un'erstand." 
 
 So saying, he left his burden on the supper 
 table, and strode up the lane, while his lis- 
 tener, motionless with the struggling of 
 conflicting emotions, could only watch his 
 retreating figure, and wonder what new trial 
 Heaven had in store for her. 
 
 At last she mechanically opened the book, 
 long kept in memory of the boy, whose loss 
 had been one of the heaviest of the many 
 attacks of adverse fortune. The book had 
 been left in a mutilated condition, for a bright 
 gilded prize-card, one of her few simple gifts 
 to her wayward boy, had been torn from the 
 fly-leaf on which it had been pasted. The 
 missing portion had been restored by the 
 stranger: the little card, strangely faded, 
 blurred, and creased, still bore the almost 
 illegible legend, " For this my son was dead, 
 and is alive again; he was lost, and is found." 
 
 The children had already opened the bag 
 and poured its little store of broad gold eagles 
 on the rickety table ; but even the conscious- 
 ness of release from menial labor and cease- 
 less care could not turn the mother's heart 
 from its yearnings after her lost darling. 
 Taking her worn cloak and bonnet, she went 
 out into the darkness, and sought everywhere 
 through the little village ; but no one save the 
 landlord of the tavern knew anything of the 
 stranger, whose horse had been fed while his 
 master took his supper, and then rode off, 
 without exchanging more words than were 
 needed to explain his wishes, and settle the 
 bill. 
 
 That same evening, however, I was again 
 summoned to attend Squire Amory, who had 
 once more been attacked by apoplexy. I lost 
 no time in applying the proper remedies, and 
 was again successful in restoring him to con- 
 sciousness. As we carried him to his room, 
 his eyes met mine, and before I left, he feebly 
 enunciated the words, "Come to-morrow." 
 I nodded acquiescence, and returned to my 
 office, to think over my duty in this perplex- 
 ing case. It was late at night when I slept, 
 but I felt satisfied as to what steps to take, and 
 my decision was final. 
 
 On this occasion I found " the squire " much 
 
 enfeebled, and greatly depressed. He was still 
 too weak to sit up, and as I entered, Stephen, 
 his eldest son, stood by the foot of the couch, 
 leaning against the heavy rosewood post, with 
 a half-threatening, half-sullen look on his pale, 
 delicately-chiselled features. Tears were in the 
 old man's eyes, and it was at once apparent to 
 me that some topic of exciting interest had 
 been considered, previous to my coming. 
 
 I greeted my old schoolmate, but received 
 no answer save a sullen " Good evening," 
 saying which, the young man left the room. 
 
 " I am glad to find you better this morning, 
 Mr. Amory, but I was in hopes that you would 
 have escaped a second attack altogether." 
 
 " Yes, doctor, and so did I; but I have had 
 too much trouble, and a great deal of busi- 
 
 ness, and last night a man called upon me, 
 and his visit upset me altogether." 
 
 " Why, Mr. Amory! I thought you a 
 braver man than that. Did he offer any vio- 
 lence?" 
 
 The sick man regained something of the old, 
 stern, grave dignity which had so often awed 
 me in boyhood, and I almost felt as in the 
 years gone by, when his searching eye had 
 made an entire class of unruly boys tremble 
 at the discovery of our raid on orchards and 
 melon patches, or some petty act of insubor- 
 dination, which had necessitated the interpo- 
 sition of "the committee." 
 
 " Can I trust you, doctor, implicitly, in a 
 matter of the greatest importance ? " he said, 
 with a glance which was strangely compounded 
 of trained sagacity and imploring helpless- 
 ness. 
 
12 
 
 THE GREAT BONANZA. 
 
 "I came here this morning, Mr. Amory, 
 with my mind fully made up on one point; 
 that is, to tell you that, in my poor opinion, 
 the cause of your malady is one that I cannot 
 reach with medicine or cure by regimen. If 
 you have a mental anxiety which you wish to 
 communicate, I will keep it as sacredly as the 
 traditions of our profession demand, and I 
 will do all that I can to aid you in anything 
 in which I can be of any assistance to do 
 away with the cause of your disease." 
 
 " I will tell you then," said the sick man, 
 tremblingly. " I have lost all my property." 
 
 "What! "said I, in amazement; "lost all 
 your property? You, the president of the 
 Riverport Bank, and the largest stockholder? 
 The holder of so much real estate, and " 
 
 "It is as I say, doctor. Last year I was a 
 rich man, and might have been still, if I had 
 been contented to amass wealth in the old, 
 safe way; but I dabbled in silver mining 
 stocks, and a day or two ago an important 
 lawsuit was decided against our company, 
 and its stock fell from one hundred dollars to 
 fifty-five dollars per share. I held three thou- 
 sand shares, and I lost almost all that I was 
 worth." 
 
 " But you were worth nearly two hundred 
 thousand dollars, according to the general 
 estimate, Mr. Amory; and that leaves you 
 seventy-five thousand dollars, even if your 
 stocks should continue at their present low 
 figure." 
 
 " I thought so, too ; but last night There, 
 doctor, I can't tell it. Take that paper and 
 read for yourself." 
 
 He handed me an envelope, bearing the 
 well-known imprint of a legal firm of New 
 York. The letter enclosed made a courteous 
 demand " for an account of the estate of 
 Edward Boyd, now resident in Virginia City, 
 Nevada, to whom you were appointed guar- 
 dian in 1858." 
 
 I felt that it would be both cruel and useless 
 to feign surprise, and wonder at such a claim 
 from one long deemed among the dead, and 
 therefore took the straight road to an under- 
 standing. 
 
 " I have for some time had my doubts that 
 your lost nephew was really dead ; and so this 
 demand is not such a surprise to me as it 
 would be to our fellow-townsmen. Will the 
 claim ruin you, if enforced?" 
 
 "Wholly. The estate, with accumulated 
 interest, amounts to over one hundred thou- 
 sand dollars! The messenger who brought 
 this a rough miner, apparently said that 
 he would come for an answer to-night. 'I 
 
 would advise ye,' said he, ' to pay more 'ten- 
 tion ter this letter than ye did ter the one the 
 sick boy wrote ter ye frum New York.' " 
 
 Amory's feelings had evidently led him far- 
 ther than he had intended to go in his com- 
 munications to me, for he caught his breath, 
 as if choking, and peered at me uneasily from 
 under his long white lashes. 
 
 " I knew of that letter two years ago, Mr. 
 Amory, and therefore you need not hesitate. 
 What else did. he say?" 
 
 "I don't know how you came to know so 
 much about my affairs, doctor; but the rest 
 of the story is short. ' The boys hev struck 
 it rich,' said the stranger, ' an' they've sworn 
 ter hev the last cent you owe Ned. I reckon 
 they knew how Ophir stock was like to pay, 
 when they got Overbury to rope in the presi- 
 dent of the Riverport Bank. Good night, 
 stranger. I'll take your answer to-morrow 
 night.' Now, dbctor, you see my position. 
 My fault has been punished with the loss of 
 the work of a lifetime, and my unkindness 
 brought forth its harvest of revenge. What 
 shall I do ? " 
 
 " There is only one way to do, and that is, 
 to make the most complete reparation possi- 
 ble. Give up everything, confess your fault, 
 and seek a reconciliation." 
 
 The door opened sharply, and Stephen 
 Amory entered. His eyes blazed with rage 
 and scorn as he rushed to his father's bed- 
 side. 
 
 " Are you mad, father," said he, " to listen 
 to such cowardly advice ? Will you make your- 
 self the byword of Riverport, and beggar 
 Laura and myself? What do you know of this 
 stranger? or who can tell but what this is 
 some trumped-up claim, preferred by an im- 
 postor?" 
 
 " Stephen," said the old man, " DC silent. 
 Call in your mother and sister at once." 
 
 The young man hesitated. 
 
 " If you wish them to see him again in life, 
 obey him," I whispered, for I feared the worst, 
 as I saw the increased color of the invalid. 
 
 In a few moments the ladies entered the 
 room. The squire motioned them to his 
 bedside. 
 
 " I once did a very wicked and cruel thing," 
 said he, " and the God of the fatherless has 
 visited me in displeasure. Your nephew and 
 cousin Edward is not dead, and as I, in my 
 avarice, neglected his appeal when sick in New 
 York, he has sought my ruin. Heavy losses 
 of late have left me with nothing but the 
 estate of his dead father, and now he sends to 
 demand it. Stephen wishes me to stand a 
 
THE GREAT BONANZA. 
 
 suit at law. I am tired of strife, and weary 
 of unjust gain. What shall I do, wife? What 
 say you, Laura ? " 
 
 Mrs. Amory was not a lovable woman ; but 
 duty, with her, was an iron code, not to be 
 set aside for love or fear. 
 
 " If you feel that it is your duty to give up 
 all, surrender the last cent, and the very roof 
 above us." 
 
 "And you, Laura, what say you, child?" 
 said the squire, eagerly. 
 
 Laura's eyes were full of tears, and her 
 cheeks were as pale as death, but she kept back 
 all other signs of emotion as she answered, 
 
 "We shall not be poor, father, as long as 
 we possess the love of God and the affection 
 of each other." 
 
 The old man's face lost its threatening glow, 
 and a look of calm contrition softened his 
 harsh features. The dying sun cast his de- 
 clining rays into the chamber, and the invalid 
 saw that night was near at hand. 
 
 "You have chosen well, I feel assured. 
 The messenger who is to take my answer will 
 soon be here, and shall be admitted to receive 
 the message in your presence." 
 
 At that moment, a quick, sharp knock 
 sounded at the door, and the servant was in- 
 structed to show the stranger into the sick 
 room. His heavy tramp up the broad stairs 
 sounded menacing, and I met him outside the 
 door. 
 
 "Mr. Amory has had an apoplectic attack, 
 and the next will probably be fatal," said I. 
 " He will give you his answer inside. Please 
 to be as gentle as you can, and do not excite 
 him." 
 
 In the twilight of the corridor I could not 
 distinguish the expression of my companion's 
 face, but I fancied that his voice faltered as he 
 answered, 
 
 "Never fear, stranger. I hes my orders; 
 but I never strike a man when he's down." 
 
 " Come in, then," said I; and we entered. 
 
 " I hev come fur your answer," said the 
 stranger, advancing as noiselessly as his heavy 
 boots would admit, and stopping about mid- 
 way between the door and the couch. 
 
 The squire turned himself towards the fig- 
 ure, with something of his old pride. 
 
 " Had I been left to myself, I should have 
 told you to do your worst ; but " (here his voice 
 softened), " the hand of God has been laid 
 upon me, and I have repented of my sin. It is 
 hardly likely that I shall ever live to see Ed- 
 ward Boyd again, even if he were willing to 
 forgive my unkindness, and the cruel silence 
 with which I regarded his appeal to my pro- 
 
 tection ; therefore I must trust my message to 
 you. Will you carry it truly? " 
 
 " Thet is what I'm here for, squire. I hev 
 no other arind, and Ned Boyd shell hear it to 
 the last identical word." 
 
 "Then, in the presence of these witnesses, 
 I resign willingly to Edward Boyd all his 
 estate, leaving to him to decide whether or not 
 my heirs shall receive the sum due me as 
 guardian, since he attained his majority. 
 Carry to him my acknowledgment of my sin, 
 and tell him that a dying man asks his for- 
 giveness." 
 
 "And tell him," broke in the sweet voice 
 of Miss Amory, " that his cousin Laura begs 
 him, for the sake of the old days when they 
 were children together, that he will forget the 
 past, and be satisfied with regaining his prop- 
 erty. Don't advise him to hate my poor fa- 
 ther, for he has done all that he could." 
 
 The rough voice faltered visibly, and the 
 herculean form seemed less erect and tri- 
 umphant, as the last words were spoken. 
 
 " Ned Boyd didn't expect this change in the 
 old man ; and I reckon he won't be over- 
 pleased when he finds thet he's taken the last 
 ore in the lead, and come plum agin the 
 casin'. God bless you, miss ; keep up your 
 spirits, an' hope for the best. Good night, 
 gentlemen ; " and the messenger's heavy tread 
 died away through the hall; then the door 
 closed behind him, and his horse's hoof struck 
 the sparks from the flinty road as the rough 
 rider dashed away at headlong speed. 
 
 Three days later, the mail brought to Mr. 
 Amory another enclosure from the New York 
 firm. It was a deed of gift " of the personal 
 estate of Edward Boyd, as inherited from his 
 late father." The enjoyment of the interest 
 was deeded "to Hiram Amory, executor un- 
 der the will ; " but after his death, the prin- 
 cipal went to "my beloved cousin, Laura 
 Amory." 
 
 Another letter from Edward Boyd conveyed 
 a full assurance of his forgiveness, and gave 
 such a schedule of the fortune he had amassed, 
 that the princely gift he had made seemed no 
 such sacrifice, after all. 
 
 " I shall visit Riverport to-morrow," he con- 
 tinued, " and if you choose to meet me at the 
 depot, I shall be happy to end all unpleasant- 
 ness in a family reunion before I return to 
 Nevada." 
 
 The tears of joy and gratitude which the 
 reading of that letter occasioned I had the 
 pleasure of witnessing; and when the noon 
 train arrived at Riverport, the family carriage 
 bore the squire, well supported with cushions, 
 
THE GREAT BONANZA. 
 
 to the depot A tall, well-dressed, keen-eyed 
 man stepped forward to the carriage. 
 
 " Is this Edward Boyd? " asked the old man, 
 tremblingly. 
 
 The bright eyes grew suspiciously moist as 
 the wanderer, sprang into the barouche and 
 grasped his uncle's hand ; and an hour later 
 all Riverport knew that Ned Boyd and Sam 
 Xevins had come back from the mines as rich 
 as Croesus ! 
 
 The next fortnight was a time long to be 
 remembered in the Amory homestead ; and 
 among the pleasures of that season of re- 
 joicing, the recital of the adventures of the 
 
 truant lads was not the least. The broad 
 piazza, twined with climbing roses and wood- 
 bine, was the auditorium, and the warm sum- 
 mer evenings the time devoted to the relation. 
 Sam Nevins, now a wealthy, self-poised stock 
 operator, was always one of the listeners, and 
 the squire seemed to grow young again, as 
 the sad memories of the past were forgotten 
 in the peaceful happiness of the hour. 
 
 As far as memory serves me, the following 
 is a synopsis of a long recital taking up sev- 
 eral evenings. In connection with recent de- 
 velopments of the vast mineral wealth of that 
 region, it is not without interest. 
 
 TAKING THE BOOK, IIL: HELD IT UP TO THE SOLITARY CANDLE. Page 9. 
 
PART 
 
 THE 
 II. 
 
 GREAT BONANZA. 
 
 THE FORTUNES OF THE RUNAWAYS. 
 
 " TT is hardly necessary," said Ned, growing 
 -* visibly red in the face, " to say why Sam 
 and I concluded to run away. I had plenty to 
 eat and drink, and was well dressed, I suppose ; 
 but I felt that I was not loved as were the other 
 children. Sam had love enough, but a lack 
 of food and clothing, which his poor mother 
 tried in vain to supply in sufficient quantities. 
 Accordingly we resolved, like the other boys 
 we had read of, ' to go forth to seek our for- 
 tunes ; ' and some months before we carried out 
 our project, we commenced our preparations. 
 
 " I had always received many presents of 
 money, which for the most part had been de- 
 posited in that curious earthenware money- 
 box which you all will remember. I knew of 
 several five-dollar notes, which I had carefully 
 folded to enable them to pass through the nar- 
 row slit in the conical top ; and many bits of 
 silver had I hoarded until I could exchange 
 them for a new dollar bill to add to my stock. 
 "When father died, the amount was consid- 
 erable; and although my allowance was con- 
 siderably reduced after that, I received, at dif- 
 ferent times, presents which largely increased 
 the sum total. 
 
 " Sam and I agreed between us that we would 
 go to sea; but Sam refused to leave his mother 
 until her year's supply of wood was sawed, 
 split, and piled. And many an afternoon we 
 worked together, laying our plans, and talking 
 of the sights we should see, until the spring 
 was nearly ended, and our task was done. 
 
 " The night before we started, I took my 
 little box into the barn, and chipped a hole in 
 the bottom. Sam was with me, and I poured 
 the contents into his hat. He was evidently 
 amazed at the amount of our capital ; and even 
 I was astonished at the gradual accumulations 
 of twelve years for the first bill, one of ten 
 dollars, had been deposited in it by my mother 
 on my.first birthday. We counted it out : there 
 was in all one hundred and ten dollars and 
 fifty-six cents. 
 
 " Early the next morning I met Sam at the 
 wharf, where we took an unoccupied dory, and 
 rowed down the harbor to the cove where the 
 boat was found. We hauled her up, as we 
 supposed, above the reach of the tide ; and 
 Sam took off his oldest suit and put on one 
 of mine. We each had a small travelling-bag, 
 which I had passably furnished from my own 
 
 wardrobe ; and, walking over to the lower sta- 
 tion, we took the early train for New York. 
 
 " On our arrival we fell into the hands of a 
 cab-driver, who plainly told us that he knew 
 we were runaways, and readily coaxed and 
 threatened us into boarding with him during 
 our stay in the city. We had each about five 
 dollars in our pocket-books, and carried the 
 rest of our cash in bills, in the waistbands of 
 our trousers, under the lining. He managed 
 to keep us until our visible cash was nearly 
 gone, when the fever attacked one of his chil- 
 dren, and the infection spread to nearly every 
 person in the family. 
 
 " Then it was that the rough, tricky cabman 
 and his stout, hard-working wife showed, be- 
 neath the compelled selfishness of their ordi- 
 nary life, a tireless patience and humanity 
 
 which I shall never forget. Three weeks they 
 took care of us, and, hearing nothing from 
 you, sent us out to a dairy-farm, where, for our 
 feeble aid in light work, we got our board until 
 we were strong and well again. 
 
 "Then good John Traynor wrote to us that 
 he had got us a chance as waiter-boys on a clip- 
 per bound for San Francisco. So we left the 
 farm, and returned to the city. 
 
 " The captain liked our appearance, and en- 
 gaged us at once, at eight dollars a month. 
 As we bade Traynor adieu, I produced a couple 
 of ten-dollar bills, and begged him to take 
 them as a part of the sum he had expended on 
 our account. 
 
 " ' Take it,' said I. 'We have enough to 
 pay our way, even with a little more expense 
 than we are likely to meet. We will pay you 
 the rest when we can.' 
 
 " The great tears came into the rough fel- 
 
i6 
 
 THE GREAT BONANZA. 
 
 low's eyes. ' Take yer money is it? If I do, 
 may I be There, I won't swear about it ; 
 but my hands will be worked to the bone afore 
 I take a cint more from yees. We've a little 
 sum in the Savin's Bank, and I don' know the 
 dhriver in the city as has a betther run of cus- 
 tom. It's meself that lift a good home to sake 
 me fortune, and met wid those that hadn't their 
 heart in the bit and the sup when a poor b'y 
 wanted help. There, put up your money; an* 
 whin ye come back from Californy, fetch me a 
 bit of a lump of silver or gould, may be.' 
 
 "The next night the swift 'Ranger' was 
 off Sandy Hook, and our sea-life had fairly 
 commenced. Of course we had the usual ex- 
 periences of green boys at sea. We were mis- 
 erably seasick, and found our miseries only 
 the subject of rough jests and careless laugh- 
 ter. We were bullied by the petty officers, 
 and teased by the seamen, and soon learned 
 the hard lesson which every one learns who 
 lives under the absolute and irresponsible 
 power of one man. Not that Captain Howard 
 was a harsh or cruel ship-master; for he was 
 really a whole-souled, generous-hearted man, 
 and, in sickness or misfortune, no one who 
 had any claim upon his kindness had reason 
 to complain. 
 
 "At San Francisco he secured a charter to 
 Calcutta and return ; and we agreed to remain 
 on board the Ranger until she got back again 
 to San Francisco. ' You chaps are pretty 
 smart for such little shavers ; but you're only 
 fourteen now, and hardly old enough to take 
 care of yourselves yet. Just stay with me 
 another year, and I'll try and get you a berth 
 in some store or other when we get back.' 
 
 "We were easily persuaded; and for two 
 years we remained on the Ranger. But at last 
 she was ordered back to New York, and Cap- 
 tain Howard, after vainly endeavoring to per- 
 suade us to go with him, was as good as his 
 Word in getting us a situation. 
 
 " It was during the early part of the war, 
 and the ship had been sold to the government 
 for the transport service. The captain was to 
 tike her to New York ; and as there were al- 
 ready rumors of rebel privateers in the South 
 Pacific, she was pierced for guns, and fur- 
 nished with four thirty-twos; a number of gun- 
 ners and extra men were supplied from the 
 navy-yard ; and it was not until the night be- 
 fore she sailed that we were summoned to the 
 cabin to be paid off and discharged. 
 
 " ' I am sorry, boys, to leave you here,' said 
 the captain, ' for I've found you honest and 
 reliable ; an' I've tried to do as well for you as 
 a rough, uneducated fellow, that has worked 
 
 his way up from before the mast, could. I 
 had a good mother once, and, although you 
 wouldn't think it, have tried to keep you from 
 deviltry, and swearin', and such like, as much 
 as I could. We're a rough set, and the cabin 
 of a liner isn't the place to learn much that is 
 good ; but I'm afraid it's a deal better than the 
 only place I can get for you now.' 
 
 " Sam and I looked at each other in amaze- 
 ment not unmingled with alarm. Could it be 
 possible that we, who had witnessed so many 
 boisterous, scurrilous, blasphemous sea cap- 
 tains in their revels, were about to assist at 
 orgies to which these should be comparatively 
 innocuous, and even preferable. The captain 
 laughed a little ; but there was a trace of sad- 
 ness in his tone as he continued : 
 
 " ' I don't wonder you look surprised, boys, 
 for you've seen what we call some " gay old 
 times " in this cabin, and found me, more than 
 once, as poor a saint as I am a preacher. But 
 the evil you saw then was in the rough, and 
 disgusted you, I've no doubt; and much of the 
 bad language you heard was the result of rough 
 training and ignorance more than of deep- 
 seated wickedness. Now I've got you a situa- 
 tion something like the one you've had here, 
 in a club-house, where some of the richest and 
 best educated men of the city live together. 
 They will teach you more politeness than I 
 have ; you will wear finer clothes, sleep softer, 
 and eat of the best the market affords ; but the 
 evil which you see will be gilded by wealth, 
 and learning, and style ; and you will find mean 
 and wicked thoughts beneath the merchant's 
 broadcloth, which the roughest sea-dog of our 
 line would despise. 
 
 " ' However, I don't know that I've any 
 right to talk in this way. People come here 
 to California to get gold ; and all the passions 
 that fit men for hell seem to find this a good 
 growing soil. Besides, I'm something like 
 old Cap'n Barnes when he joined the church. 
 He was a terrible rough, profane old fellow; 
 and when he got real mad it took any amount 
 of grace to keep him from swearing. At last 
 he ripped out one day at a meeting about 
 church matters, when a smooth-going member 
 tried to play a pretty sharp game on the so- 
 ciety. The minister, a good old soul, rose and 
 called the cap'n to order, and reminded him 
 that a Christian should be above reproach, and 
 quoted something about keeping himself " un- 
 spotted from the world." 
 
 " The cap'n got up and said he felt sorry 
 for what he had said, and begged the pardon 
 of the members ; but he had told them, when 
 he joined, what his failing was, and that he 
 
THE GREAT BONANZA. 
 
 was afraid he should bring scandal on the 
 church. "But, said he, "our minister tells 
 us that we are to be soldiers, fightin' the good 
 fight against the devil an' all his angels. Wai, 
 once I knew a man who told me of a terrible 
 fight with Injins, in which all the party was 
 killed but him. They was all round him, but 
 single-handed an' alone he fought through the 
 crowd and got clear at last. One day this feller 
 went in swimming, and his skin hadn't a scar 
 on it. I set that man down as not much of a 
 fighter any way. An' I think thet the Chris- 
 tian thet hes no failin's can't have felt much 
 of the power of the temptations and wicked- 
 ness of the world." 
 
 " ' So, boys,' continued our worthy Mentor, 
 * perhaps it's just as well that you should 'see 
 the other side of the card. If you deteiTnine 
 to be honest and manly, you'll come out all 
 right. But don't let the weakness and mean- 
 ness of any one destroy your faith in the good- 
 ness of God and the kindness and generosity 
 of mankind. Well, you've had my lecture, 
 and here is the balance of your wages ; ' and 
 after paying us off, our old friend took us 
 up to the buildings occupied by the Occi- 
 dental Club, and presented us to our new em- 
 ployer. 
 
 " Gerald Rushton, or, to use his popular 
 cognomen, Col Rushton, was a middle-aged 
 gentleman, with an air half military, half gen- 
 teel, a portly body, and a sallow, flabby face, 
 half covered with a huge mustache, and with 
 a paii* of large black eyes surrounded by those 
 heavy, leaden-hued circles which tell of vital- 
 ity wasted by unnaturally late hours and a life 
 of dissipation. Perfectly polite in every word 
 and action to all the frequenters of the club, 
 never excited to passion or awakened to en- 
 thusiasm, he was a perfect master of a situation 
 where the main points were to provide well for 
 the animal comforts of the inmates, and to 
 keep carefully from the outer world the hidden 
 life of his customers. He received us coldly, 
 and summoned the head waiter, who furnished 
 us with the uniform costume worn by the em- 
 ployees of the establishment, and assigned us 
 to different stations. 
 
 " Of the two years we spent there I care 
 to say little, for much of what I heard is unfit 
 to be repeated here, and the scenes which I 
 witnessed in the luxurious parlors and around 
 the card-tables of the club will never fade from 
 memory while I live. True there were but few 
 occasions when the men who were beggared 
 in those stately rooms sought relief in self- 
 murder, or avenged their betrayal to ruin by 
 violence ; and the few exceptional cases were 
 2 
 
 smoothed over by the influence of the mem- 
 bers of the club, and the tact and self-possessed 
 coolness of ' the colonel.' 
 
 " We were, from the first, favorites with our 
 superior, for our life on shipboard, and our 
 hardened constitutions, enabled us to do the 
 4 night-work' of the institution with compara- 
 tively little exhaustion from want of sleep. 
 Much of our work was in attendance on the 
 card-players, who seldom rose from their fas- 
 cinating occupation until two or three in the 
 morning. There I saw enough to convince 
 me that Rushton was not the uninterested 
 spectator that he seemed ; and at last I found 
 that his earnings as superintendent were but 
 an unimportant part of the wealth he drew 
 from an organized system of wholesale spoli- 
 ation. His victims were for the most part 
 
 young men, who never dreamed that the men 
 whom they honored as leaders in politics, law, 
 and trade could lend themselves to aught more 
 debasing than high play at cards ; or if they 
 did suspect the truth, it was impossible to ver- 
 ify their suspicions. 
 
 "At last, one day, as I loitered by the side 
 of the Pacific Mail steamer, which was just on 
 the point of starting, I saw a tall, fine-looking 
 man bidding adieu to a youth whom I had 
 already noted as a fresh victim of the colonel's 
 wiles. 
 
 " ' Good by, Henry,' said the father. ' Don't 
 stay here any longer than you can help, but 
 be off to Washoe at your earliest opportunity. 
 Schaeffer and Scales need the money, and we 
 want you at home with the old folks as soon 
 as possible. Give my kind regards to Rush" 
 
iS 
 
 THE GREAT BONANZA. 
 
 ton. I suppose you will stay at the Occidental 
 a week longer.' 
 
 " ' Yes, father,' said the young man ; * I 
 want to give a fortnight to seeing San Fran- 
 cisco ; besides, Rushton has given me intro- 
 ductions to so many men of considerable note, 
 that I feel like pursuing the acquaintance far- 
 ther.' 
 
 " ' Well, Henry, do as you think best; but 
 don't fail to set out in a week at farthest.' 
 
 "At this juncture the bell rang, and with 
 the usual bustle, din, and hurry, the steamship 
 left the wharf, and the young man watched the 
 stout vessel until, on the swift current of the 
 refluent tide, she slipped through the rocky 
 portals of the Golden Gate. 
 
 "There was something in the stately ten- 
 derness of the father, and the manly affection 
 of the son, which awakened me to a sense of 
 my duty in the premises. I looked around 
 for the stranger. The ship had rounded the 
 headland, and with an audible sigh the young 
 man turned his face towards his new home. 
 
 "' I believe you are stopping at the Occi- 
 dental,' said I. 
 
 " ' Yes, sir; I came there three nights ago. 
 You ai'e employed there are you not?' 
 
 " ' Yes, sir,' said I ; ' I am at present one of 
 the attendants in the card-room.' 
 
 " ' I thought I remembered your face. What 
 can I do for you, my lad ? ' 
 
 " ' Nothing, sir. It was in the hope of do- 
 ing you a service that I took the liberty of ad- 
 dressing you. I wish to give you a warning.' 
 
 "'A warning! Why, you are becoming 
 quite mysteriously interesting. But, pardon 
 me, sir, what have I to fear?' 
 
 " 'Nothing but the loss of your money; but 
 that, I fancy, would be serious enough in its 
 consequences.' 
 
 " ' The deuce! yes, I should think so. But 
 how am I likely to lose it, my dear sir?' 
 
 " ' At the card tables of the Occidental.' 
 
 " The young man started. 
 
 " ' Impossible. I know no one there except 
 men too high in position to become gamblers, 
 and of characters too well-established to be af- 
 fected by anything which you or I could say.' 
 
 " ' You are right; and I shall say nothing. 
 But I, perhaps, may be allowed to remind you 
 of the leading events of last evening?' 
 
 " The young man bowed his acquiescence. 
 
 " 'You came in with Colonel Rushton and 
 Mr. A., who introduced you to Senator D. and 
 Lawyer Y. You sat down to a game of whist, 
 at half-dollar points. Before you went to bed 
 at two, the game had been changed to draw 
 poker, and you had lost heavily.' 
 
 " ' You have used your eyes well, I must ad- 
 mit. But such a succession of events might 
 have been the legitimate result of a fairly- 
 played game. I see no reason, however, which 
 should lead you to deceive me; and I will be 
 on my guard.' 
 
 " ' Let me give you one piece of advice, sir,' 
 said I : ' never bet on any hand, however large, 
 unless you have dealt the cards yourself; or, 
 if you must bet, wait, and "call" as soon as 
 you can. You will soon see that, however 
 good a hand you may hold, a better will be in 
 the hands of one of your companions. I have 
 seen the results of a different course too often 
 to have any doubts of your ruin if you despise 
 my advice.' 
 
 rt ' I do not despise it, sir, and will test it 
 to-night. If you prove right, I shall not be 
 ungrateful. Will you give me your name?' 
 
 " ' My name is Edward Boyd, and I shall be 
 on duty at the card room to-night. You will 
 be invited to play again this evening, you may 
 be sure. We must part here. Don't recognize 
 me at the house, sir.' 
 
 "That evening, as I went up stairs to the 
 parlor devoted to card-playing, I passed the 
 young man, whose name I learned during the 
 day was Henry Hunter. ' The senator,' as 
 his companion was generally styled, was dis- 
 playing his really brilliant powers of conver- 
 sation, and had evidently charmed the young 
 man by the bland richness of his voice and his 
 vast fund of general information. At that 
 moment the lawyer and Mr. A. met them. 
 
 " ' Shall we finish that little game to-night?' 
 said the latter. ' Y. leaves for Sacramento 
 to-morrow morning, and I suppose Hunter 
 will be on his way to Washoe before his re- 
 turn.' 
 
 " ' My young friend and I have been having 
 such a charming conversation that I hardly 
 care to sit down in that close room with so 
 many players. Let me play the host to-night, 
 gentlemen. Mr. Rushton,' said the senator, 
 raising his voice, ' send up some refreshments 
 to my room : we are going to sit there this 
 evening; and if you feel like dropping in 
 upon us, don't use any ceremony, I beg of 
 you.' 
 
 "I caught Hunter's eye. He started^ but 
 instantly recovered his usual politeness and 
 easy confidence ; and the party went up to the 
 luxurious rooms of the senator. At about 
 midnight A. and Y. entered the card room 
 perfectly furious. 
 
 "'Did you ever see such luck?' said the 
 former. ' He has won back all that he lost 
 last night, and bet as if he suspected.' 
 
THE GREAT BONANZA. 
 
 " ' Hush ! ' interposed his more cautious le- 
 gal companion. ' I'll lay my life that he does 
 suspect; and the less said the better. But 
 Rushton will take my place to-night, and ' 
 The rest of the interesting conversation was 
 inaudible. 
 
 "The next morning Mr. Hunter beckoned 
 to me as I passed through the smoking-room. 
 
 " 'You were right,' said he, in a low tone. 
 ' Can I see you anywhere alone by and by?' 
 
 ! ' 'I am off duty at two, and shall take a 
 stroll on the wharf. If you choose, I can 
 meet you there ; ' and I passed on to finish my 
 errand. 
 
 "At the hour appointed I met Mr. Hunter. 
 He acknowledged my timely services, and an- 
 nounced his intention of going to Nevada the 
 next day. 
 
 " ' I don't like to leave you here, for this is 
 no place for a boy like you. I wish I could 
 take you with me.' 
 
 " The chance I had long desired had at last 
 presented itself. 
 
 " ' I wish you would take me with you. I 
 can work hard, and have wanted to go to the 
 mines a long time. Have you no work for us 
 to do? for I can't leave Sam.' 
 
 " ' Then you have a friend?' said he, laugh- 
 ing. ' You have never told me about Sam.' 
 
 Then I related our little history; and when 
 he again spoke, the laugh had disappeared from 
 his tone, and his soft black eyes were full of 
 almost womanly tenderness. 
 
 " 'You shall both go with me ; that is, if you 
 can leave to-morrow, and are willing to try 
 the rough and weary labor of a miner's life.' 
 
 " 'We were paid off two days ago,' said I; 
 ' and Sam has long been urging me to leave 
 the service, for the night-work has already be- 
 gun to tell upon us.' 
 
 "The next day, at four P. M., Mr, Hunter, 
 Sam, and myself were on board a steamer 
 bound up the Sacramento River, en route for 
 Washoe. At Sacramento we took the train 
 for Folsom, where stages awaited our arrival, 
 to convey us over the Sierra Nevada to Vir- 
 ginia City. 
 
 "Of that long night-ride I have many and 
 varied memories. The first score of miles led 
 us over a terribly cut-up road, from which vol- 
 umes of dust arose, choking the lungs, and 
 hiding the deep dry ruts which threatened at 
 every moment to upset the ponderous stage. 
 But about an hour after leaving Placerville, 
 where we stopped for supper, the roadway be- 
 came a hard gravel ; and, as the shadows deep- 
 ened, we sped through the winding approaches 
 which lead through threatening walls of eter- 
 
 nal adamant and gigantic red wood groves to 
 the narrow trestle-bridges which span the swift 
 American and its granite-walled tributaries. 
 The night was one of those clear, star-lit ones 
 which give to every cliff and forest a blackness 
 which only served to throw into more startling 
 distinctness the skeleton of some blasted tree, 
 or the vast detached boulders which lie scat- 
 tered above the winding road which leads up 
 to the summit. 
 
 " Strewn over the mountain-sides, as if flung 
 by those Titanic warriors who essayed their 
 mighty prowess in vain against the hosts of 
 heaven, many rested upon a base so narrow, 
 and apparently insufficient, that more than 
 once, as I awoke with a start from a momen- 
 tary doze, I repressed with difficulty a cry of 
 alarm, as at some sudden turn a huge fragment 
 seemed about to crush us in irresistible descent. 
 
 "At three A. M. we reached the summit, 
 and saw afar off on the horizon the pearly 
 flush that men call ' the false dawn.' The air 
 was chill, almost frosty, for we were eight 
 thousand feet above the level of the sea. 
 
 "The next six miles was a headlong rush 
 downward along ' the new grade,' a shelving 
 road, winding along the side of the mountain, 
 without post or rail between the road-way and 
 the abyss whose rocky bottom lies hundreds 
 of feet below. The sun rose as we passed be- 
 neath the lofty cliff where the pine-crowned 
 Point-of-Rocks overlooks the limpid waters 
 of Lake Tahoe, and after crossing 'The Di- 
 vide ' beyond the Glenbrook Station, we passed 
 through Carson Silver City and Gold Hill, 
 and entered the devious streets of Virginia 
 City thirty-eight hours out from San Fran- 
 cisco. 
 
 " For the last few miles all traces of natural 
 beauty had been lost in the unceasing strug- 
 gle which for five years past had been waged 
 between human skill, with its armies of la- 
 borers, and wealth of scientific appliances, and 
 powerful engines, and the grim walls and ledges 
 of metamorphic rock, which for ages had 
 faithfully guarded the treasures of the moun- 
 tains. 
 
 " Gangs of miners covered with mud, or 
 white with dust, issued from the bowels of the 
 earth, or disappeared into rocky fissures like 
 the gnomes of German story. The air was 
 full of penetrating rock-dust and the poison- 
 ous vapors of the smelting-furnaces. Tall 
 pillars of iron bore up tlie vast pulleys of the 
 hoisting apparatus, which at once carried the 
 miner down to his task a thousand feet below, 
 and raised 'to the bank' huge buckets of 
 gray ore worth a king's ransom ; and the way 
 
2O 
 
 THE GREAT BONANZA. 
 
 was almost choked with wagons and vehicles 
 bearing new machinery, food, and goods of all 
 kinds to the miners' city. 
 
 ."We were well received by Messrs. Schaef- 
 ferand Scales, two foreign gentlemen, of large 
 mining experience, who, with the elder Hunter, 
 owned a large interest in one of the principal 
 mines. Henry Hunter was to be the head 
 book-keeper of the concern, and at once stated 
 his wishes concerning us to the managers. 
 
 " Schaeffer, a nervous, black-bearded Ger- 
 man from the Hartz Mountains, answered, in 
 his quick, kind way, 
 
 " ' Certainlee, dey shall have a situation ; but 
 dere is just now no place, except dey sail work 
 in de mine, or watch de works of reducti-on.' 
 
 " ' You won't find the first so pleasant as 
 your duties at Frisco, I'm afraid,' said Scales, 
 a bluff Englishman, who had served a long 
 apprenticeship in the mines of Potosi. ' But 
 there's a better chance for you to learn there 
 what may yet make both your fortunes.' 
 
 " We both decided to work in the mine ; and 
 Scales promised us eighty dollars a month and 
 our board. 
 
 "'It is not commonly done ; but we owe 
 you a debt, and you and your friend shall live 
 with us as long as you stay in Virginia City.' 
 
 " We accordingly gladly accepted the offer, 
 and the next day went down the shaft with 
 Schaeffer, who called our attention, here and 
 there, to the rocks which, dripping with con- 
 densed moisture, and frosty with gathered dust, 
 still showed here and there a glimmer of white 
 or rosy quartz, a glint of semi-transparent or 
 snowy spar, or the grayish-red surface of frac- 
 tured hornblende. 
 
 " ' I do suppose,' said our voluble guide, as 
 we rapidly descended into the apparently bot- 
 tomless abyss, ' that you sail be dis-apointed 
 that you see no silfer. But you sail seldom 
 see silfer, as dey do find gold and copper, in 
 threads through de solid rock. Now, d<*re,' he 
 said, as we shot by a narrow opening, evidently 
 a cross-gallery, ' dat was our best ore, and we 
 did get seven hundret dollar a ton from some 
 of it; and yet you would not pick up a piece 
 of it on de street, unless to trow at a dog.' 
 
 "'And do you never find silver in visible 
 quantities?' asked Sam. 
 
 " ' O, yes; in Norway, at Konigsberg, dey 
 did find one mass of silfer as long and as big 
 as a mans, and dat weighed nearly five hun- 
 dret pounds. Den in Mexico and Peru dey do 
 often find pure metal in large pieces. But we 
 do never do so here. Dere has been, however, 
 in some mines, large pockets of what we do 
 call de horn silfer, or what de chemists do call 
 
 de " natif chloride of silfer." Dis is often 
 three quarter parts rich in pure metal, and,' 
 lowering his voice, ' I has sometimes found a 
 very leetle in dis mine.' 
 
 " At last we reached the lowest level, a thou- 
 sand feet below the surface, and were set at 
 work by an overseer, to whom we wjsre espe- 
 cially recommended by the kind-hearted Ger- 
 man ; and in a few days AVC had settled down 
 to the monotonous drudgery of silver mining. 
 
 " For two years we worked thus; and Sam 
 became especially skilful as a miner, and his 
 judgment in the matter of ore became won- 
 derful. There was not a shaft, level, cross- 
 cut, or winze in the district of which he did 
 not carry in his head a complete mining-chart ; 
 and at last he was always taken into council 
 when a new mode of approach was proposed ; 
 and his pay had been proportionally ad- 
 vanced. 
 
 "As for me, my health could not stand the 
 hard labor so well, and under Mr. Schaeffer's 
 direction I became quite an expert in the re- 
 ducing process, by which the metal is sepa- 
 rated from the rock, and the copper, sulphur, 
 arsenic, lead, and other substances, with one 
 or all of which it is nearly always associated. 
 
 " In 1865 nearly all our works were founded 
 on the Mexican amalgamation process, said to 
 have been invented, in 1557, by a certain miner 
 of Pachuca, named Bartholomew de Medina, 
 although Schaeffer used to assert ' dat my 
 countrymen of de Suabian mines did practise 
 dat long ago.' As carried on in Mexico, the 
 ore is reduced to powder by stamps, and then 
 transferred to the rude crushing mills, or ar- 
 rastras, as they are called, where stones, re- 
 volved by mule power around a stone-paved 
 trough filled with water, reduces the ore to the 
 finest of dust. It is then, in the state of mud, 
 placed in the amalgamating yard, which is 
 also floored with stone, and, with the addition 
 of from four to twenty per cent, of salt, is 
 made into large heaps. When iron pyrites, 
 or crude sulphate of iron, is not naturally 
 present, quantities of this are added, with 
 roasted copper pyrites, or sulphate of copper, 
 besides lime and decaying vegetable matter. 
 
 "These materials are duly mixed by the 
 trampling feet of many horses or mules, and 
 about six times as much mercury as the esti- 
 mated weight of silver present is sifted through 
 stout canvas pockets, and intimately mingled 
 with the heap. The process, depending on 
 natural heat and a slow chemical action, takes 
 about five months, and .the loss of mercury 
 and waste of ore is very great. 
 
 " Our stamps were of steel, six in number, 
 
THE GREAT BONANZA. 
 
 21 
 
 driven by a powerful steam engine. Each 
 weighed nearly eight hundred pounds, and 
 kept up a ceaseless ponderous dance in an iron 
 box, called a battery, into which trickled a mi- 
 nute stream of water, which swept the finest 
 of the gray mud through a thin wire screen 
 into the amalgamating pans great 'jacket- 
 ed ' tubs of metal kept hot with super-heated 
 steam. In these constantly revolved huge 
 mullers, which intimately mixed the pasty ore 
 with the mercury which was frequently sifted 
 into the pans, and seized every particle of pu- 
 rified gold and silver. Salt and sulphate of 
 copper were used to destroy the admixture of 
 baser metals, and the constant flow of turbid 
 water which ran from the pans was carried off 
 in broad wooden troughs, called ' sluices,' lined 
 with coarse woolly blankets, and obstructed 
 with ' riffles,' or small horizontal troughs filled 
 with quicksilver, to arrest the minute particles 
 of silver, which would otherwise have been 
 lost to a large amount. 
 
 " Every week the workmen at the mill 
 ' cleaned up.' Clearing the crisp, heavily-laden 
 quicksilver from the pasty mud which it had 
 robbed of its treasures, they made it up into 
 large balls, which were afterwards placed in a 
 retort, whose heat soon dissipated the mercury 
 in vapor, leaving behind only a compact lump 
 of frosty, glistening, spongy gold and silver. 
 Of course care was taken not to lose the quick- 
 silver, which was saved by cooling it in aeon- 
 denser, and gathering it in a reservoir of 
 water. 
 
 "In 1870 I had worked five years at silver 
 mining. Hunter was now the agent of the 
 company in his native city. Scales had dab- 
 bled in stocks in other mines, * struck it rich,' 
 and gone 'home' to England. Sam was in 
 his place, and I had taken Hunter's, while 
 Schaeffer still stuck manfully to the task of 
 making the ' Consolidated ' pay. 
 
 " The outlook was poor, for our expenses 
 were enormous, and heavy dividends, paid in 
 periods of transitory success, had i-educed the 
 resources of the mine at a critical period. 
 
 " One night Schaeffer came home to our 
 ' bachelor's hall ' in despair. 
 
 "'Everyting goes against us. De ore in 
 de fourteen hundred foot drift gets worse and 
 worse, and seems to pay less than reducing 
 rates.' 
 
 "To understand what follows, you will re- 
 member that we were working for a vast cor- 
 poration, comprising thousands of stockhold- 
 ers, holding shares whose nominal value was 
 one hundred dollars apiece. The owners, 
 managers, and even the workmen, had a right 
 
 to buy stock ; and for some years Schaeffer 
 had invested the most of his earnings in the 
 stock of the company, which was now at about 
 eight dollars per ' foot.' 
 
 " I tried to cheer him up; but he seemed to 
 have given up all hope, for the abandonment 
 of the mine would leave him almost penniless. 
 Suddenly we heard a rush of men outside, and 
 a call for the superintendent; and a second 
 later a man rushed in sobbing as if his heart 
 would break. 
 
 " ' What's the matter, Jack?' said I; ' any- 
 thing wrong at the mine?' 
 
 " ' Matter enough ! ' said the fellow, a rough 
 miner, who had been Sam's favorite workman, 
 though no one else cared to have anything to 
 do with him. ' The cross-drift from the new 
 winze ' (a narrow shaft not a part of the main 
 shaft) has caved in, and Sam Nevins is 
 killed ! ' 
 
 " ' Mein Gott! Was ungluck is das?' cried 
 the German, awakened from the contempla- 
 tion of his own misfortunes. ' Here, Jack, 
 how did it happen ? Tell it to me quick. Per- 
 haps dere is yet a hope.' 
 
 " ' I'm afraid it's all up with poor Sam. How- 
 ever, I'll soon tell you all that I know. You 
 see, Sam set Johnson and I to sink this winze, 
 an' one day he came down, an' after takin' a 
 look at the rock, he said, "Jack, cut a drift 
 thar." Wai, we ran in about twenty feet, an' 
 pillared it up, for thar was a hangin' wall, and 
 things wasn't over safe. To-day Sam come 
 down an' found Johnson coming out. " Whar 
 ye goin', Johnson?" said he. " Out o' this," 
 ses Johnson: "them posts are cracking like 
 all possessed, an' I just got a pelt of a stone 
 from overhead." " All right," says Sam. "I'll 
 go in for a moment ; " and then he come in 
 with Johnson's can'le and pick. 
 
 " ' Wai, I'd been at work along the hangin' 
 wall, and had made a little hole to the south- 
 'ard, jist about large enough to sit up an' work 
 in. He just gin a look at the hangin' wall, 
 an' got into the little cove, when I heard him 
 say something. I stooped to listen, when 
 about a bushel of fragments dropped on my 
 back, an' I heard the posts rippin' an' crackin' 
 all round me. All I remember is, dodgin' an' 
 twistin' amojig them props, and reachin' the 
 winze just in time to be hauled up by Johnson 
 before the hull cross-drift caved in.' 
 
 " ' Come on, men ! ' said Schaeffer, seizing 
 his hat; and following his example, we rushed 
 to the mine, and descended to the level from 
 whence the exploring shaft had been sunk. 
 
 " It was now filled up, the earth and rock 
 having fallen away from the receding wall, 
 
22 
 
 THE GREAT BONANZA. 
 
 which lay bare where a wide crevice marked 
 the line of cleavage. 
 
 "'Jack, will you risk your life on the 
 chance?' said Schaeffer, kindly. 
 
 "The stout miner never faltered or hesi- 
 tated. 
 
 " * Ef it was quicksand or wet clay, which 
 it isn't, he'd do as much for me.' 
 
 " ' Den follow down dat crevice, dere, and 
 dig close to de rock ; ' and, after a few short 
 questions and answers, the skilled miner set 
 the proper direction, and several men com- 
 menced digging rapidly in the range indicated. 
 
 " At first the work was easy and compara- 
 tively safe ; but by morning, when they struck 
 the broken supports, the loose earth and frag- 
 ments of rock threatened every moment to 
 bury our friend and his would-be saviors in 
 one common tomb. Finally Jack cried out 
 that we had found him ; and we drew up the 
 limp, insensible body, and afterwards the mi- 
 ner, worn out with fatigue and sorrow. 
 
 " A litter was improvised, and the body of 
 our friend taken to the shaft, where it was 
 raised to the surface and carried to the house. 
 For a long time all efforts at resuscitation 
 failed ; but at last Sam knew us ; and the doc- 
 tor said that he would live. 
 
 " I watched with him that day, and about 
 noon he woke and seemed to know me. He 
 tried to speak, but all that I could distinguish 
 was ' Look here ; buy stock ; ' and he motioned 
 to his breast, and then again sank into a kind 
 of doze. His clothes lay on the chair beside 
 me ; and taking his rough vest, I tried the 
 inner pocket. It was full of a curious black 
 material, of a friable nature, and among it 
 were one or two lumps of an opaque, horn- 
 like substance, whose weight bore witness to 
 its mineral nature. We had ' struck it rich ' at 
 last. It was native chloride of silver. 
 
 " I called Schaeffer in, and showed him the 
 specimens. I shall never forget how he lis- 
 tened impatiently to my story of where I pro- 
 cured it, and how he .embraced me when he 
 found that Sam's nearly fatal adventure had 
 brought us the fortune we had almost de- 
 spaired of. 
 
 " I got .leave to go to San Francisco at once, 
 for the day we had long been preparing for 
 had come. For ten years Sam and I had saved 
 our joint earnings ; for ever since the day 
 when we broke open the stone-ware money- 
 box we have had one purse. 
 
 " We were worth about fifteen thousand dol- 
 lars, and before the end of the week I had 
 bought at the broker's board fifteen hundred 
 shares of ' Consolidated ' stock. It cost on an 
 
 average ten dollars a share. Two weeks later 
 the shares had gone up to fifty dollars. I want- 
 ed to unload ; but Sam kept run of the lead, 
 and told me to hold on. 
 
 "We sold out at two hundred dollars, and 
 made, of course, nearly three hundred thou- 
 sand dollars. Since then we have bought and 
 sold stocks, and have manipulated millions of 
 dollars. We vowed to ruin you ; but, happily, 
 we learned in time of your ill health and 
 changed feelings towards me. Your shares 
 in ' Ophir ' are a good investment, and, if 
 you hold on patiently, you will regain your 
 losses." 
 
 The night shades had begun to gather. 
 Squire Amory rose to go in, and the rest fol- 
 lowed his example. Laura alone stood look- 
 ing to seaward from the rose-entwined porch. 
 Edward suddenly joined her. 
 
 " I must return to Nevada," said he, "un- 
 less you can give a favorable answer to my 
 question of last night." 
 
 " You know, Edward, that I always loved 
 you ; but my father may be taken away at any 
 time ; and you have too much yonder to sac- 
 rifice for me." 
 
 "No, Laura, no; I do not think so. Wide- 
 spread as are the ledges which stand where once 
 curled the fiery waves of a molten sea ; deep 
 as are the shafts which follow the narrow veins, 
 shot with precious metals, to their central 
 sources far below the reach of even man's 
 tireless search for wealth ; vast as are the riches 
 which still await the dauntless seeker, still, 
 contentment is the source of all happiness, 
 and love is not to be sold for a little more 
 gain." 
 
 And later, when the whole earth was ring- 
 ing with tidings of the vast wealth of the mines 
 of Nevada, Edward Boyd sat one evening by 
 the window, gazing abstractedly into the star- 
 lit sky. His paper had fallen from his hands, 
 and his young wife knew what had taken pos- 
 session of his heart. With the little Edward 
 in her arms, she glided to his side. 
 
 " Are you sorry that you did not go back? " 
 she said, tenderly. 
 
 The visi6n of the fierce conflict of warring 
 interests and splendid successes, which had 
 tempted him for a moment, faded away, and 
 the flush passed from his face as he answered, 
 
 " I have enough and to spare, and all that 
 can ennoble the soul or enlarge the under- 
 standing is spread out before me. Why should 
 I care to leave home and friends, and a love 
 beyond price, to join in yonder heartless strife, 
 although the prize were the richest lead of 
 THE GREAT BONANZA?" 
 
PETROLI A. 
 
 VACATION IN PETKOLIA, 
 i. BORnsra FOR OIL. 
 
 ARTHUR and Fred had an invitation from 
 their uncle Charley to visit him in the 
 oil regions, and see how petroleum was taken 
 from the depths of the earth. Their parents 
 consented to their spending " the long vaca- 
 tion" there. They needed little baggage, ex- 
 cept an old suit of clothes and a strong pair 
 of boots, each so their uncle wrote. Little 
 Lulu wanted them to " brin' her some oil to 
 dease her haa," and she carefully tucked a bot- 
 tle into the corner of their trunk for that pur- 
 pose. As they left their pleasant Massachu- 
 setts home, the last thing they saw was Lulu 
 laboriously waving a towel, in lack of a hand- 
 kerchief; and the last thing they heard was her 
 piped injunction,' "Don't fordet my oi-el ! " 
 
 Uncle Charley met them at Titusville, and 
 went with them down Oil Creek. Leaving 
 the cars a few miles below Titusville, they 
 went by a road which wound its way among 
 rocks and stunted trees up the steep mountain- 
 sides, and reached the tract on which was 
 uncle Charley's lease. They were amazed at 
 . the number of derricks they saw. There were 
 derricks everywhere on the level all along 
 the creek, and scattered all up the steep sides, 
 and on the very tops of the bluffs, in places 
 where it did not seem possible for a derrick, 
 or even a man, to stand. The greatest won- 
 der of all was how men ever raised the big 
 engines and ponderous machinery to places 
 where one could not climb without grasping 
 roots and shrubs to keep from falling. 
 
 Arthur said the derricks looked like skele- 
 tons of pyramids. 
 
 "No," said Fred; "they look like frames 
 to build lots of Bunker Hill Monuments with." 
 
 On the tract where uncle Charley's lease is 
 there were thirty wells drilling or in opera- 
 tion, and the scene was one of life and interest, 
 instead ofthe wildness and desolation they had 
 expected to see. The forest of spectre-looking 
 derricks, the smoke and steam of the engines, 
 the clatter of bull-wheels, the " whir " of 
 sand-pump reels, the shouts of teamsters and 
 miners, the constant coming and going of 
 mud-bespattered men in long boots, some 
 prospecting for leases, some buying and some 
 selling oil, others arranging for the boring of 
 new wells, all this made up a strange and 
 exciting life. 
 
 The boys took a deep interest in the busi- 
 aess, and begged to stay at the wells all the 
 time, instead of at Titusville, with an occa- 
 sional visit to the wells, as their father had 
 
 planned. Uncle Char'^y. who remembered 
 his own boyhood better than most men, and 
 appreciated a boy's love of adventure, in- 
 dorsed their petition, saying, "Why, let 
 'em stay, John. They can get their meals 
 at the boarding-house with the men, and I 
 will have a bunk built for them in the shanty 
 where the rest sleep, and I warrant they will 
 like it. They wouldn't be easy in Titusville a. 
 day, after catching the excitement of the busi- 
 ness. Men who taste this life want to stay 
 in it." 
 
 So it was arranged, and the boys enjoyed it 
 from first to last. Their mother's anxiety 
 about their health, in such an unaccustomed, 
 rough mode of life, was groundless. Every- 
 body was well. The men attributed it to the 
 oil with which they were covered, and the gas 
 of which they breathed. One of them told 
 the boys tfiat, if they wanted to enjoy good 
 health, they should take a swim every morn- 
 ing in one of the tubs of black, odorous 
 grease. Probably the bracing air, pure water, 
 active, rugged life, and plain fare, had as much 
 to do with good health as the oil and gas. 
 
 The men who had the contract to bore 
 uncle Charley's well were just beginning oper- 
 ations. The boys soon were on intimate terms 
 with them, and asked many questions. They 
 made themselves quite useful in handing tools 
 and nails, and going on errands; and, as they 
 were well-behaved boys, abroad as well as at 
 home, and took care not to get in the way, the 
 workmen were glad to have them there. 
 
 The first thing was building the derrick. 
 They commenced by nailing strips of plank 
 together at the two edges, forming a half 
 square. Fred asked if those were troughs to 
 run the oil in. The men smiled, and said 
 thej' were for the corners of the derrick. Four 
 of these they set up on end twenty feet apart, 
 leaning them a little towards each other, and 
 spiked strong cross-pieces and braces from one 
 to the other. Then another section was built 
 on the top of this, in the same way, still leaning 
 towards the centre, until, when the derrick was 
 fifty-six feet high, it nearly came to a peak in 
 the centre. On the top they fixed two iron 
 pulleys. Then they laid a strong floor in the 
 derrick, and nailed pieces at one corner to make 
 a ladder to the top, and the derrick was fin- 
 ished. 
 
 Arthur and Fred were as much delighted 
 with the tower as if they had built it them- 
 selves ; and, indeed, they had helped. Arthur 
 climbed the ladder, and stood on the pulley- 
 frame at the top. A mixed panorama was 
 spread out before him. Far away extended 
 
PETROLIA. 
 
 the valleys of Oil Creek and the Alleghany 
 River, with the Allegl any Mountains on each 
 side. All the expanse of mountain and val- 
 ley was dotted with derricks and engine- 
 houses. Even beyond where he could dis- 
 tinguish these he could tell the location of 
 many oil wells by the puffs of steam, which 
 made white flecks on the dark background. 
 He gave three cheers for the new derrick, in 
 which Fred joined from below, and then went 
 down. How would his mother feel if she had 
 known what he was doing! 
 
 Fred wanted to go up also; but his uncle, 
 thinking he was too small for such a ven- 
 ture, told him that he might buy a flag the 
 next time he went to Titusville, and hoist 
 it at the top of the derrick, and then he. could 
 claim the only American flag on that tract. 
 Fred did this the very next day. One of the 
 men put at the peak a slender flag-staff" for him, 
 and the stars and stripes made a fine appear- 
 ance, Fred thought. " I am Columbus ! " 
 cried he; " and I have taken possession of 
 this oil country, and raised the American flag 
 in the name of the Continental Congress." 
 Fred's history was a little out of joint, but he 
 was as enthusiastic as a man who discovers a 
 new country and makes history. 
 
 The boys then went with a gang of men 
 into the woods to cut timber. They felled 
 several large trees. First they hewed a stick 
 fifteen inches square, and cut it off thirteen 
 feet long; and cut a tenon on one end. This, 
 the men said, was the sa/nson-post. Fred 
 thought it was strong enough to be called 
 " Samson." 
 
 Then they hewed out two more large tim- 
 bers, and cut them fourteen feet long. These 
 they fitted together like a cross, and cut a 
 mortise in the centre where the sticks crossed. 
 These were the bed-timbers for the samson- 
 post, and the mortise was to receive the ten- 
 on of it. All these were hauled to the der- 
 rick. The cross-timbers were firmly bedded 
 in the ground by digging, and the samson- 
 post set up in the mortise. Strong braces 
 were set up from each end of the bed-timbers 
 to the top of the post, and spiked there. All 
 this made the post very firm. 
 
 " Now," said Mr. Bowers, the foreman of 
 the work, "we must cut a walking-beam." 
 
 Fred thought he meant a cane, and asked 
 his uncle where they were going, that they 
 needed walking-sticks. 
 
 Uncle Charley said the right name of the 
 stick was " wor^/w^-beam." This was hewed 
 out twenty-four feet long, ten by sixteen inches 
 in sizj at the middle, and tapering out to eight 
 inche; square at either end. 
 
 Now they bolted an iron to the top of the 
 samson-post, and on the middle of the walk- 
 ing-beam another iron to fit into it. Then, 
 with all the help they could get, they raised 
 the beam up to the top of the samson-post, 
 and balanced it there, by fitting the irons to- 
 gether so it would rock easily. The post and 
 working-beam were so placed that one end of 
 the beam was in the derrick, over its centre 
 the spot where the well must be. 
 
 " O, what a splendid teeter!" cried Fred. 
 And he and Arthur climbed up the braces of 
 the samson-post to the top of the working- 
 beam, " hitched " along to the ends, and 
 "see-sawed" a long time. 
 
 While all this work (and play) had been 
 going on, teams had hauled the steam-engine 
 and other machinery from the railroad up to 
 the derrick. 
 
 " Now," said Mr. Bowers, " we'll put up the 
 bull-wheel." 
 
 The bull-wheel had been brought, ready- 
 made, from Titusville. It is a turned shaft of 
 wood, eight inches in diameter, and eight feet 
 long, with a six-feet wheel set on near each 
 end. The spokes of the wheels were left un- 
 covered at the end, so that the men could take 
 hold to turn the shaft, as a pilot does the wheel 
 by which he steers a boat. The sides of the 
 wheels facing each other were boarded up 
 smoothly, so that the arms would not catch 
 the rope while winding it on the shaft between 
 the wheels. On the outside of one of the 
 wheels was fastened a large grooved pulley; 
 this was to receive a rope-belt from the engine 
 to drive the bull-wheel. The men hung the 
 bull-wheel by iron journals, or gudgeons, in 
 each end of its shaft, so it would turn freely. 
 It was placed in a frame between the legs of 
 the derrick, at the side opposite to the work- 
 ing-beam. 
 
 Arthur and Fred set to work to wind the 
 drill-rope on the bull-wheel shaft. As this 
 was a heavv cable, one and a half inches in 
 diameter and several hundred feet long, it took 
 the boys a long time to coil it on the shaft; 
 but they persevered, and finally got it nicely 
 wound. They called it their kite-line and 
 spool, and tried to guess how large a kite the 
 cable would hold. 
 
 The next thing was the band-wheel. This 
 is set in a strong frame, called the jack-frame, 
 and placed so that one end of the band-wheel 
 shaft comes directly under one end of the 
 working-beam that end which is out of the 
 derrick. The band-wheel is six feet in diame- 
 ter, and has a six-inch face, on which is to be 
 placed the driving-belt of the engine. On one 
 side of the wheel is a grooved pulley, like that 
 
P E T R O L I A . 
 
 2 5 
 
 on the bull-wheel, on which the rope-belt is to 
 be run. On one end of the band-wheel shaft 
 is a crank, which is to be connected with the 
 end of the working-beam above by a pitman ; 
 when the crank turns and the pitman is on, it 
 will work the beam up and down. 
 
 On the side of the band-wheel farthest from 
 the derrick they set up the sand-pump reel. 
 As this reel is to wind a smaller rope on, it is 
 made smaller than the bull-wheel shaft. The 
 sand-pump reel is turned by a friction-pulley 
 on one end of it. The pulley can be moved 
 in its frame, and made to bear against the face 
 of the band-wheel at a point where the driv- 
 ing-belt does not touch the face of the wheel. 
 The frame of the reel is moved by a lever in 
 the derrick, so as to force the friction-pulley 
 against the band-wheel, or take it oft* and stop 
 the reel, at the pleasure of the man in the der- 
 rick. As the friction-pulley is much smaller 
 than the band-wheel, the sand-pump reel turns 
 very fast when the friction-pulley is " in 
 gear." 
 
 After the reel was up the boys threw it " out 
 of gear" by the lever in the derrick, and then 
 they reeled the sand-pump rope on. 
 
 The engine and boiler were now put in place, 
 a few feet from the band-wheel ; a belt was 
 put on from the driving-wheel of the engine 
 to the band-wheel, and they were ready to 
 " run." When the friction-pulley was forced 
 against the band-wheel the sand-pump reel 
 would turn. When the pitman was put on the 
 crank of the band-wheel the-'working-beam 
 would rock on the samson-post. When the 
 rope-belt was put on the band-wheel the bull- 
 wheel would turn and wind up the drill-rope. 
 Thus the band-wheel could be used in three 
 ways. 
 
 An engine-house was now built over the 
 engine, and a little shed over the band-wheel 
 and band to protect them. In the engine- 
 house they also .put up a blacksmith's forge, 
 where they could mend their tools, sharpen 
 the drills, &c. 
 
 In the derrick they built a. shed to shield the 
 men from the weather, and from the mud, 
 water, and oil, which would drip from the 
 ropes and tools when drawn out of the well. 
 
 The first step in sinking the well, the boys 
 learned, is to drive pipe. As far down as there 
 is only earth or small stones, and until solid rock 
 is met, iron pipe can be driven without drilling. 
 To drive this pipe, the workmen set up in the 
 centre of the derrick two strong plank slide- 
 ways, twenty feet high, fifteen inches apart, 
 taking care to make them perfectly perpendic- 
 ular, and fasten them securely. Between these 
 
 they hung a heavy pile-driver. The loose end 
 of the drill-rope was now carried up to the top 
 of the derrick, passed through the big pulley, 
 and down to the battering-ram between the 
 slide- ways. 
 
 The drive-pipe is cast-iron, 
 six inches inside diameter, and 
 of various lengths, the walls 
 or shell of the cylinder being 
 about an inch thick. Fred 
 said a piece would make a 
 good cannon, if one end 
 oould be plugged up and a 
 vent made. Arthur thought it 
 looked like Lord Rosse's tele- 
 scope ; as neither of the boys 
 had ever seen a big telescope, 
 they agreed that the pipe did 
 look like one. 
 
 The end of the pipe first start- 
 ed into the ground is shod with 
 steel, that it may better force 
 its way; and the upper end 
 is protected by a driving-cap, 
 so that the pipe may not be 
 battered or broken in driving. 
 
 The first length of pipe was 
 now set up between the slide- 
 ways, and the belt-rope run 
 on the bull-wheel. The heavy 
 ram was thus drawn up to the 
 slide-ways, where a "stop" 
 knocked the rope loose from 
 the ram, and it fell, with a 
 powerful blow, on the top of 
 the drive-pipe. By repeating 
 this process, the pipe was 
 forced downward. 
 
 " Do you care if it don't go 
 down straight?" asked Arthur. 
 
 Mr. Bowers, who is a Yan- 
 kee, answered, u Well, I rather 
 guess I do. If it leans the least bit, I must 
 straighten it up; or if I can't do that, I should 
 have to pull it all up, and start in a new place. 
 If it isn't " plumb," we can't get the drilling- 
 tools through ; or if they went through, they 
 would keep sticking. I must keep testing the 
 uprightness of the pipe with this spirit-level." 
 
 " If you strike a stone, then what will you 
 do ? " asked Fred. 
 
 " If it is a small stone, the pipe will crowd 
 it aside into the earth. If it is large, we 
 shall have to drill a hole through it for the 
 pipe. If the pipe strikes the edge or shelving 
 side of a 'boulder, the pipe may be forced 
 aside, or even broken though I must keep 
 watch for that." 
 
 DRIVE-PIPE. 
 
26 
 
 PETROLIA. 
 
 " How can you tell when it strikes a stone?" 
 " O, I can tell by the sound of the blows. 
 I can tell about how large the stone is. We 
 shall soon be down to the bed-rock ; and if 
 you listen, you can tell when we strike it." 
 " What is the bed-rock? " asked Arthur. 
 " Should think rocks would make a pretty 
 hard bed," interrupted Fred. 
 
 " The bed-rock," answered the miner, " is 
 the first rock we come to." 
 
 "And how can you 
 tell how near you are 
 to the rock ? " asked Ar- 
 thur. 
 
 " Because we have 
 driven nineteen feet of 
 pipe, and none of the 
 wells around here drive 
 more than twenty-four 
 feet," answered Mr. Bow- 
 ers. "' In some places they 
 drive seventy-five or one 
 hundred feet of pipe." 
 
 After a little while the 
 boys noticed the report 
 of the ram changed from 
 a dull, heavy sound to 
 a sharper, ringing blow. 
 
 " Ah ! " cried Arthur, 
 " there is the bed-rock." 
 
 " Yes ; stop driving ! " 
 shouted Fred, as prompt- 
 ly as if he were foreman. 
 
 And the driving was 
 immediately stopped, as 
 Fred ordered. 
 
 "Arthur," said Mr. 
 Bowers, "can you 
 write ? " 
 
 " Ho ! " said Arthur, 
 quite indignantly; "I 
 should think I ought 
 to. Fred can write, and 
 he is only a little boy." 
 
 Fred looked up at Ar- 
 thur to see if Arthur 
 really was so much big- 
 ger than himself as his 
 talk indicated. 
 
 " Can you keep 
 books?" continued Mr. 
 Bowers. 
 
 "Yes, sir; I have 
 studied book-keeping." 
 
 "Well, we'll appoint 
 you book-keeper. In the 
 box in the shanty is a 
 Rope Socket, blank book. On the page 
 
 where I have set down the date on which we 
 commenced to drive pipe, you may set down 
 the date of this day that we struck bed-rock, 
 and the number of feet of pipe." 
 
 Arthur dad so; and he kept a complete rec- 
 ord of each step of the work, describing the 
 kind of rock they met, and the depth at which 
 they found anything peculiar, The pipe being 
 down to the rock, the ram was taken down, 
 and the slides torn away. The earth was now 
 cleaned out of the pipe, and the drilling-tools 
 brought in. At first the hole was not deep 
 enough to take in all the tools, but they soon 
 drilled, with part of them, deep enough to ad- 
 mit all ; then the work proceeded faster. 
 
 First, a forked iron, called the Rope-Socket, 
 was fastened over and around the end of the 
 drill-rope. The rope-socket had a thread cut 
 on the lower end. On this was screwed a 
 ponderous iron bar two and a half inches in 
 diameter and eight feet in length, called the 
 Sinker-Bar. (See preceding column.) 
 
 " Now bring on the jars," said 
 the foreman. 
 
 Fred immediately thought of his 
 mother's preserves, and anticipated 
 something nice to eat. Instead of 
 that, the men screwed on at the 
 bottom of the sinker-bar a heavy 
 machine that looked like two loops 
 or links out of an immense chain. 
 They were forged of two inch 
 square steel ; the slit in the loops 
 was abouc two feet long and two 
 inches wide. They were inter- 
 locked, as in a chain, and on the 
 free end of each was the necessary 
 thread for screwing into 
 the other tools. 
 
 On the lower end of the 
 jars, as they hung by the 
 rope, was screwed the 
 greatest piece yet. It is 
 twenty-two feet long, and 
 of the same thickness as 
 the sinker-bar. It needed 
 a good many men to carry 
 it. They call it the Auger- 
 Stem. 
 
 "Now," said Mr. Bow- 
 ers, " we'll put on the 
 Centre- Bit, and down she 
 goes." 
 
 The Bit is three feet 
 long, flattened and made 
 sharp and hard at the end. 
 The boys called the tools 
 over in their order : Rope- Jiifr, 
 
PETROLI A. 
 
 socket, Sinker-bar, Jars, Auger-Stem, and 
 Centre-bit. When they were all on, they 
 reached from the floor of the derrick to the 
 pulley at the top. Each joint was screwed 
 very tight with two monstrous wrenches, so 
 that they might not work apart in the well. 
 " Why are they made so long?" asked Fred. 
 " To get weight to force the bit down. We 
 can't have them any thicker than two and a 
 half inches, and so we get the weight in the 
 length." 
 
 " Haw much do they weigh ? " 
 " About fifteen hundred pounds." 
 
 A very curious machine was 
 now attached by a simple rod 
 to the end of the working- 
 beam over the well. It is 
 called a Temper- Scretv. It 
 had a square loop to fit over 
 the end of the working-beam. 
 A screw three feet long worked 
 in a thin iron frame, through 
 a nut at the bottom of the 
 frame ; the screw is turned in 
 the frame, and thus raised or 
 lowered, by means of a handle 
 in the head of it. Hanging 
 from the head of the screw 
 were two links and a clamp, 
 operated by a set-screw, -by 
 which the temper-screw could 
 be securely clamped and fas- 
 tened on the drill-rope at any 
 place. 
 
 The boys quickly saw how 
 all this was operated. The 
 lever that held the bull-wheel 
 stationary was raised, and the 
 drilling tools began to descend 
 rapidly into the well, uncoil- 
 ing the cable very fast; one 
 of the men held a brake hard 
 against the face of the bull- 
 wheel to regulate the speed. When all the 
 tools had passed -down, so that the bit was 
 near the bottom of the well, the bull-wheel 
 was stopped by means of the brake, and the 
 temper-screw clamps fastened to the cable. 
 Now the tools hung on the temper-screw and 
 working-beam, instead of on the bull-wheel; 
 considerable slack of the cable was pulled 
 down, and coiled upon the floor, and left 
 hanging below the temper-screw. 
 
 As soon as the engine was set in motion, 
 the working-beam began to rock and work 
 the tools up and down in the tube about 
 thirty times a minute, notwithstanding they 
 weighed nearly a ton. One of the workmen 
 
 BORING FOR OIL. 
 
 climbed up on a tall stool to regulate the 
 drill. 
 
 " Is it boring now? " asked Arthur. 
 
 " No ; the bit doesn't cut the rock, but I 
 will soon make it strike ; " and he commenced 
 to lower the tools by turning down the tern' 
 per- screw. 
 
 "Now it strikes," said he, presently. But 
 he still kept turning down the temper-screw. 
 
P E T R O L I A . 
 
 " Then whv do you turn it down any more?" 
 asked Arthur, anxiously. 
 
 "So the jars will work," he replied; "I 
 must have slack enough so the upper jar will 
 slide down about six inches into the lower 
 one; then on the upward motion the jars 
 come together with a heavy blow. This starts 
 the drill loose. It would wedge in every t'ime, 
 if it was not knocked loose by the blow of the 
 jars. No power could be relied on to draw it 
 out by steady pulling."' 
 
 11 O," cried Fred, clapping his hands ; " now 
 I see; you call them jars because they jar the 
 tools loose." 
 
 " Exactly." replied the driller; 
 " and I can make it jar as much 
 or as little as I please with the 
 temper-screw." 
 
 "Ah," said Arthur, briskly; 
 " don't you see, Freddy, they 
 call it a temper-screw because it 
 tempers the stroke of the drill 
 going down, and the stroke of 
 the jars coming up." 
 
 " I can feel the jar on the rope, 
 and know how much jar I have 
 on," said the driller. 
 
 The boys put their hands on 
 the rope, and could feel distinctly 
 the concussion of the jars in the 
 well. Thejj could also feel it on 
 the other end of the working- 
 beam by laying their hands on 
 the pitman. 
 
 The driller kept turning the 
 drill-rope so the bit would not 
 strike twice in the same place, 
 and thus worked the hole out 
 nearly round. As fast as the 
 well deepened he lowered the 
 drill, keeping the same amount 
 of jar. 
 
 There was water in the well 
 several feet deep, which kept the 
 drill cool as it worked. 
 
 " I know what that is for," said 
 Arthur; "so the drill will not 
 heat, lose its temper, and get 
 soft." 
 
 "Drills are like boys," said 
 uncle Charley; "they are not 
 good for much if they lose their 
 temper." 
 
 The bit having now worked its 
 way into the rock the length of 
 the temper-screw, it had to stop. 
 The temper-screw clamp taken 
 SandPump O ff the drill-rope, the bull-wheel 
 
 was set in motion again, and the tools drawn 
 out of the well. They were left hanging on 
 the drill-rope, being drawn one side, out of 
 the way, by a cord tied to the side of the der- 
 rick. 
 
 "Now for the sand-pump to bring up the 
 chips," said Mr. Bowers. 
 
 The Sand-Pump is a cylinder, usually made 
 of galvanized iron, three inches inside diam- 
 eter and eight feet long, with a valve at the 
 lower end and a bale at the upper end. This 
 bale was hung on a hook tied to the end of 
 the smaller rope, which went over a pulley at 
 the top of the derrick, and coiled around the 
 sand-pump reel. 
 
 As the sand-pump descended in the well the 
 rope uncoiled very fast. When it reached bot- 
 tom, one of the men took hold of the rope, and 
 churned it up and down, to fill it with chips 
 through the valve in the bottom of the pump. 
 
 Arthur now took hold of the lever that 
 moved the reel, and brought the friction-pul- 
 ley up hard against the bull-wheel. The reel 
 commenced to re-wind the rope, and the sand- 
 pump quickly came up not full of "chips" 
 of wood, as Fred had expected but of water 
 thick with mud and sand, made of pulverized 
 rock. It was sent down again and again, until 
 the mud was all out. 
 
 Then the centre-bit was taken oft" the auger- 
 stem, and a reamer screwed on in place of it. 
 The cutting end of the reamer is round, with 
 two notches in it like teeth. This is to smooth 
 off and round the irregular hole left by the bit. 
 
 The reamer was worked as the bit had been 
 until it had finished off the well as far down 
 as the bit had cut. Then the sand-pump took 
 out the chips of the reamer, and they were 
 ready to make another advance downward 
 with the bit. 
 
 So they went on, drilling and sand-pump- 
 ing, never stopping, night or day unless 
 something was wrong with the machinery. 
 Three times the tools got " stuck " in the rock, 
 and once the drill-rope broke, and left the tools 
 in the well. 
 
 One day Mr. Bowers came out of the der- 
 rick, and said, " We have got to go fishing." 
 
 " O, goodey ! " cried Fred ; " I speak to go." 
 
 He soon found they had got to fish the tools 
 out of the well. They did this with an iron 
 that had strong barbs or teeth on it, to run 
 down beside the rope-socket in the well, and 
 hook over it, and thus bring it up, with the 
 tools after it. At one time they fastened to 
 one piece, and unscrewed it and brought it 
 up; then they ran an extra pair of jars down, 
 screwed on the top of the sinker-bar, and then 
 
PETROLIA. 
 
 29 
 
 jaried all the tools loose, and brought them 
 up. Little stones got loose, rattled down, and 
 wedged in between the tools and the rock, and 
 this was one cause of the stoppage. Some- 
 times, the boys were told, men work for weeks, 
 and then can't get the tools out, and have to 
 abandon the well, and lose all they have done, 
 and their tools besides. 
 
 Arthur wrote down the number of feet they 
 drilled each day. Sometimes it would be 
 twenty-five or thirty feet in twenty-four hours. 
 When they got down three hundred and 
 twenty-five feet, they struck the first sand- 
 rock. This was white, and very hard, so that 
 they progressed only six or eight feet in a day. 
 But this was only nine feet thick, so that they 
 were soon through it, and in the softer shale- 
 rock again. 
 
 Occasionally the tools had to be sharpened 
 and tempered over again. 
 
 Another thing that Arthur learned was how 
 to regulate the engine. He soon was able 
 to start or stop it by turning the throttle- 
 valve ; he could tell when the water was right 
 in the boiler by the try-cocks, and knew when 
 there was steam enough by the steam-gauge. 
 Arthur got so familiar with these things that 
 he proposed to the engineer to take the whole 
 charge of the engine, and let the engineer 
 have only the fires to attend to. To this the 
 engineer gravely assented, and Arthur was in- 
 stalled on a stool, where he could reach the 
 throttle-valve. 
 
 Fred knew how to make paper windmills. 
 He made a large number, and fastened them 
 all along the working-beam. The motion of 
 the beam made wind enough to drive the mills. 
 Fred's flag and windmills gave the " rig " quite 
 a fantastic appearance ; everybody noticed 
 L .hem, and soon began to call that the " Flag- 
 and-Windmill Well," and this was the name it 
 was known by ever afterwards. 
 
 Fred and Arthur made themselves so useful, 
 and became such favorites with the men, that 
 one day Mr. Bowers told uncle Charley that 
 he thought the boys ought to be given an in- 
 terest in the well. Uncle Charley smiled, and 
 said, "Well, I will give Arthur the first ten 
 and Fred the second ten barrels over each 
 five hundred per day." At this the men all 
 laughed; as no well on that tract had yet 
 gone over one hundred and fifty barrels, they 
 thought uncle Charley's offer rather a joke on 
 the boys. One of the men asked Fred how 
 much he would take for a sixteenth of his in- 
 terest. It proved something better than a 
 joke, however, in the end. 
 
 One day, after they had gone below the first 
 
 VOL. IX. NO. 212. 13 
 
 sand-rock, the boys saw bubbles floating on 
 the water, and mud emptied from the sand- 
 pump. "Hallo!" cried Fred; "have you 
 struck soap-suds?" 
 
 The men said they had often heard of soap- 
 mines, but never saw anything nearer it than 
 soap-s/0w<? in a well, and added that the bub- 
 bles were gas from oil veins. 
 
 Mr. Bowers asked if they saw anything else 
 on the water. Fred said he saw some green 
 paint. 
 
 "That is oil" said Mr. Bowers. 
 
 " Hurrah ! we've struck oil ! " shouted the 
 boys ; and, without waiting to hear more, they 
 rushed away to tell the operators at the neigh- 
 boring wells, some of whom had repeatedly 
 declared that the " Flag-and-Windmill Well" 
 would never produce anything but flags and 
 windmills not even gas enough to blow 
 them. 
 
 Some of these men tried. to buy the boys' 
 interest in the oil they were crowing over, but 
 the boys positively declined to name a price. 
 
 They soon found, however, that all gas and 
 oil found above the "third sand" does not 
 amount to anything, and only constitutes what 
 oil-men call "a show." 
 
 At the depth of five hundred and thirty feet 
 they struck the second sand, ten feet thick, and 
 then the pump came up nearly full of oil. 
 
 When they had gone down six hundred and 
 fifty feet they reached the third sand. This 
 rock consists of many little white pebbles, 
 from a very small size to as large as a pea. 
 Fred said these pebbles, mixed with the dark 
 oil, looked like pea-nut candy. The rock was 
 very hard, which the men said indicated that 
 good oil would be found there, if any. The 
 drill went down slowly; gas puffed and whis- 
 tled in the well, and the sand-pump brought 
 out more and more stronger "shows" every 
 time. Uncle Charley and their father were 
 there all the time now, night and day, and 
 drillers were constantly coming from other 
 wells to see what encouragement there was 
 for them. 
 
 Uncle Charley directed the men to keep 
 their lanterns at a distance from the hole, and 
 ordered pails of water to be constantly stand- 
 ing in the engine-house. , 
 
 " What is that for? " the boys asked. 
 
 " So the gas shall not take fire," said their 
 uncle. "Sometimes the drill opens a cavern 
 filled with gas and oil, and they rush up sud- 
 denly; if the gas takes fire, and the oil catches, 
 there is no stopping it. A few years ago a 
 well commenced to spout, and the gas spread 
 so that it took fire from the fire-box of an 
 
PETROLIA. 
 
 engine one hundred and fifty feet distant, be- 
 fore the men could run there to put the fire 
 out. The gas and oil filled the air so sudden- 
 ly with flames that thirty men were burned to 
 death. It was several days before the fire 
 could be put out. On the Alleghany there is 
 a well which has been burning six or seven 
 years; it lights up all the country round." 
 
 Slowly they worked through the third sand. 
 Fifteen, twenty, twenty-five, thirty, thirty- 
 five, thirty-six, thirty-seven feet, Arthur had 
 put down in his " log-book." He was writing 
 this when he heard Mr. Bowers shout, 
 
 " She don t jar I She's struck ! " 
 
 Arthur ran into the derrick. The drill rose 
 and fell without striking bottom. It was play- 
 ing in a cavity. The men instantly ran to put 
 out the fire under the boiler; all pipes and 
 cigars were ordered out. A noise came from 
 the well like wind rushing through a knot- 
 hole. 
 
 The news of the strike had spread, and 
 hundreds of excited men were hurrying to 
 the " Flag-and- Windmill Well." Fred and 
 Arthur climbed a little way up the ladder of 
 the derrick to see. A good many men also 
 stood on the cross-pieces and braces of the 
 derrick, to get a better view at the critical 
 moment when the tools should be drawn. 
 
 ; ' Have you got steam enough left to raise 
 the tools?" shouted Mr. Bowers. 
 
 " I guess so," responded the engineer. 
 
 But they didn't need the steam, for the bull- 
 wheel had but fairly commenced to wind the 
 tools up, when the cable suddenly ran slack, 
 and the bull-wheel, relieved of the weight of 
 the tools, spun round like a top. 
 
 Uncle Charley, pale with excitement, cried, 
 loudly, "Look out, look out, men ! The tools 
 are coming up alone." 
 
 The men all ran out of the derrick; the 
 boys jumped off the ladder, and ran with 
 them. 
 
 They had hardly got down before the tools 
 shot up out of the well, as if discharged from 
 a mortar, sending the pulley-wheel spinning 
 high above the derrick top. A loud report, 
 like that of a columbiad, followed, with a con- 
 cussion which shook the ground as if by an 
 earthquake, and knocked some of the nearest 
 men prostrate. 
 
 A stream of water, gas, and oil, the full size 
 of the hole, spouted up nearly to the 'top of 
 the derrick, with a roar louder than, steam 
 from the 'scape-pipe of a steamer. The roof 
 of the shed was blown away, the boards flying 
 like leaves in a gale. 
 
 Men ran quickly to put out the fires at all 
 
 the wells and shanties near. Oil and watei 
 were now running down the hill-side in little 
 torrents. Other men began with shovels to 
 throw up a dam to stop the oil. The roar of 
 the well and the shouts of the men made 
 great confusion. 
 
 In the midst of all this excitement, and 
 phenomena of nature, Arthur and Fred, boy- 
 like, were perfectly cool. Arthur crowded his 
 way forward to where his uncle was working 
 as if for dear life, under a fountain of water 
 and oil, and, after much effort, succeeded in 
 attracting his attention. And this was what 
 he shouted : 
 
 " Uncle Charley, uncle Charley ! Will you 
 tell us as soon as your five hundred barrels 
 have got out, 'cause Fred and I want to build 
 a dam to catch our oil ! " 
 
 The men all laughed -at Arthur's prompt- 
 ness to look after his interest, and said, " That 
 boy will make a great ' operator ' one of these 
 days." 
 
 "I guess your interest will be good for 
 something, after all," said Mr. Bowers; "for 
 the Flag-and- Windmill Well is good for one 
 thousand barrels a day, at least." 
 
 " Then we'll get twenty barrels apiece each 
 day," said Arthur to Fred. "Ain't you glad 
 we dug the well now, Fred?" 
 
P E T R O L I A . 
 
 3 1 
 
 PART II. 
 
 BOATING OIL. "POND FRESHETS." 
 
 HE owners of the Flag-and- 
 Windmill Well found that, 
 great as had been their la- 
 bor, expense, and anxiety in 
 findingthe oil, their greatest 
 task was jet to come. They 
 had secured the coveted 
 treasure in such prodigious 
 quantities, and so unexpectedly, that, like the 
 man who bought an elephant, they did not 
 know how to provide for it. There it was ; a 
 roaring, foaming fountain, spouting, like a 
 wounded whale, fifty feet high, filling the air 
 with yellow spray, breaking into many colors, 
 and forming wonderful rainbows in the sun, 
 and deluging acres with oily wealth ; and no 
 means at hand to secure it. Their troubles 
 were similar to those of the old woman who 
 lived in the shoe : they had so much oil they 
 " didn't know what to do." 
 
 The dams which they began to throw up, to 
 stop its running away down the mountain, 
 saved but a part of it; hundreds of barrels 
 ran to waste. Part of that which poured in 
 little torrents down the steep hill was lost en- 
 tirely. Some of it men and boys caught in 
 little dams before it reached the creek, and 
 , dipped up into barrels, which they brought 
 rf for that purpose. In this way they earned, or 
 gained, from ten to forty dollars a day each. 
 
 Nearly all the oil produced by the Flag-and- 
 Windmill Well for several days would have 
 been lost but for the kindness of the owners 
 of small wells near it. They offered uncle 
 Charley the use of their oil tanks until he 
 could construct tanks of his own. The boys 
 learned that, although oil operators are very 
 eager in pursuit of wealth, and most of them 
 seem to be pretty rough men, yet they were at 
 heart kind and generous towards others, as 
 this offer to uncle Charley proved. 
 
 Uncle Charley gratefully accepted the use 
 of the tanks for a day or two. His men laid 
 lines of iron pipe of which they had a large 
 supply, provided beforehand from the little 
 pond of oil around the well to two or three of 
 the nearest tanks. As soon as this was done, 
 and the storage for part of the oil temporarily 
 provided, uncle Charley, with men and teams, 
 started after tanks of his own. They went to 
 a tract not far off, where there were several 
 wells that had ceased to yield oil, and been 
 abandoned, with their " rigs," engines, tanks, 
 &c. Uncle Charley bought five of these aban- 
 
 doned tanks, very cheap. Such tanks are 
 built of wooden staves, like a tub, with im- 
 mense iron hoops; some of them are fifteen 
 feet high, and thirty feet across; others are 
 smaller, and some even larger. 
 
 The men knocked the hoops off, took down 
 the staves and bottom-boards, and loaded all 
 on the wagons. By working that day and all 
 night, they got the tanks all removed, and set 
 up again near the Flag-and- Windmill Well, 
 ready for use at daylight next morning. Thus 
 they had to use the borrowed tanks only one 
 day and one night. 
 
 While this was going on, uncle Charley had 
 sent Arthur (whom he had found he could 
 trust with important business) to Titusville to 
 order some more pipe, stop-cocks, a "goose- 
 neck," and other things needed at the well. 
 When Fred heard the directions given to Ar- 
 thur, he made the same mistake as when he 
 first heard the drillers talk about jars; he con- 
 cluded the " goose-neck " was something good 
 to eat. Going quietly around to uncle Char- 
 ley's side, he asked, " Can't. Arthur just as 
 well get turkey? I like that better than goose." 
 Uncle Charley was not too busy to laugh at 
 this, although he ivas too busy to explain the 
 difference. When Arthur returned at night 
 with the goose-neck, Fred thought, more than 
 ever, that he preferred turkey; for the goose- 
 neck was only a crooked piece, or elbow, of 
 large iron pipe. This was to be screwed on the 
 top of the drive-pipe in the well, and thus cause 
 the stream of oil to turn aside into the tank. 
 
 But how to put it on was the question. The 
 rats had no trouble to get a bell; they were 
 only puzzled to get it put on the cat's neck. 
 The goose-neck could not have been very well 
 put on during th^ first two days, while the 
 powerful jet was spouting. The men at first 
 tried to stop the stream entirely ; that is, to 
 hold the cat still while the bell was being 
 put on. They tried to do it in this way : they 
 took down the ponderous working-beam, and 
 as many men as could take hold of it at the 
 ends threw it over the mouth of the well, and 
 tried to hold it there. The oil and water 
 spirted and sprayed a hundred feet out each 
 side, making the crowd of spectators scatter 
 as the boys had seen a crowd do at home, 
 when the firemen in sport would turn on it 
 a stream from the fire-engine. The working- 
 beam, heavy as it was, was sent flying like a 
 chip, in spite of the efforts of twenty men to 
 hold it down on the well; and the men them- 
 selves were hurled in every direction, as if 
 they were mere insects. They crept out of 
 the deluge of oil and water, looking like so 
 many mice who had fallen into a kettle of 
 
32 
 
 grease. That way of belling the cat wasn't a 
 success, except as an amusement to the look- 
 ers on. 
 
 After two or three days, however, the well 
 seemed to abate its fury somewhat. Then it 
 began to put on another curious appearance. 
 It gradually changed from a steady flow to an 
 interrupted, spasmodic action. For a few mo- 
 ments it would spout with as great fury as 
 ever; then it would gradually sink away; 
 then, after a few moments of subsidence, in- 
 crease in violence again. 
 
 When the boys first noticed this, they be- 
 came alarmed for their oil interests, thinking 
 the well " was going to die" as Fred ex- 
 pressed it. But when they saw it each time 
 revive, and show as much energy as ever, they 
 became reassured as to its vitality. 
 
 These periods of subsidence became more 
 marked each time, until, in its quieter 1 mo- 
 ments, the well spouted no higher than a 
 man's head. In one of these sleepy moments 
 of the spouting monster they succeeded in 
 screwing on the goose-neck, and attaching 
 the pipe to it and the tanks. Now they had 
 the monster under control. 
 
 In about five minutes the well commenced 
 to rage again ; and, as if angered at being 
 conquered, it seemed to spout with greater 
 fury than ever. It roared and foamed in the 
 tank, shaking the tub, and making the ground 
 tremble in its violence; the contents of the 
 tub were stirred and churned until it was 
 nearly filled with yellow foam. 
 
 Fred exercised his inclination for compari- 
 sons by calling the tank "the giant's cup of 
 soda-water," imagining the well to be the 
 
 PETROLIA. 
 
 TOWING UP THE EMPTY BOATS. 
 
 Uncle Charley decided that the quickest way 
 to get the oil off their hands and into market 
 was by running it into boats in the creek, 
 and sending it to Oil City, on the Alleghany 
 River, at the mouth of Oil Creek. There 
 were plenty of men there ready to buy the 
 oil for shipment down the river to Pittsburg. 
 At that time the railroad, so far as completed, 
 was too far off, at its nearest point, to afford a 
 quick and easy outlet to market. 
 
 Oil Creek is a broad, shallow stream. At 
 its ordinary stage, flat-boats and barges, of 
 light draught, can be towed up against its cur- 
 rent by horses walking in the middle of the 
 stream. It was severe labor, and working in 
 the water soon took the hair off the poor ani- 
 mals' legs, and in a very short time killed 
 them. 
 
 giant, and himself the little Jack-of-the-bean- Uncle Charley and the boys went down to 
 stalk who had chained it. One of the men \ the creek to hire two boats to load with their 
 
 said it " looked more like all Dutchland's mug 
 of lager bier." Each one used the figure he 
 was most familiar with. 
 
 Their troubles and labors were not ended 
 with the completion of the tanks. A well 
 pouring out a thousand barrels a day would 
 soon fill all the tanks in the neighborhood, 
 and then they would be in the same old- 
 womsm-in-the-shoe fix again. They must be- 
 gin immediately to empty the tanks. 
 
 The tanks were connected by pipes, so that 
 when one was full it would overflow into 
 another. Near the bottom of each tank was 
 a faucet, by which the water could be drawn 
 out from under the oil, leaving only the latter 
 in the tank. The boys saw that the different 
 gravity of the two fluids made the process of 
 separating them, which they had antici- 
 pated would be a very difficult one, after 
 all, very simple. 
 
 oil for Arthur and Fred were keeping close 
 watch on their interest in the product of the 
 well. They soon found two large, flat-bottomed 
 boats, and hired them. The owner said he'd 
 carry their oil to Oil City "for fifty cents 
 owner's risk." This, Arthur explained to 
 Fred, meant he'd make the trip for as. much 
 as fifty cents a barrel would come to; but, if 
 the oil got lost, the boatman would not be re- 
 sponsible; it would be their loss, and they 
 would have to pay for the use of the "boats 
 just the same as if the oil were delivered safe- 
 ly. Fred didn't like this bargain, and insisted 
 that the boatman should get nothing if he 
 didn't carry the oil through all right. The 
 boatman said, "Very well, my little man; 
 pay me seventy-Jive cents per barrel, and I'll 
 guarantee delivery." 
 
 " What do you say, boys? " asked uncle 
 Charley. " Shall we pay twenty-five cents 
 
PETROLIA. 
 
 35 
 
 more on the barrel, or run our own risk, and 
 save that much if we get through all right. 
 Remember that the extra price does not in- 
 sure us against loss of oil. If we agree to 
 pay seventy-five cents, and the oil is lost, we 
 shall have no freight-bill to pay; the boatman 
 will lose his trip, and we'll lose our oil only. 
 He charges the twenty-five cents extra for run- 
 ning that risk." 
 
 As the three proprietors of the oil did not 
 agree as to the best plan of shipping, they 
 adopted both ways. On one boat they agreed 
 to pay fifty cents a barrel, whether it went 
 through safely or not; on the other boat they 
 agreed to pay seventy-five cents a barrel if 'it 
 went through, or nothing if it was wrecked. 
 
 The boats were towed up to a point on the 
 creek opposite the Flag-and-Windmill Well, 
 and moored by strong cables to the bank. 
 The boats were about one hundred feet long, 
 eighteen feet wide, and twenty inches deep. 
 The ends were square. The space in them 
 was divided into compartments, and covered 
 over tight with boards. It was thus divided 
 up, the boys learned, so that the oil would 
 carry more steadily. If the oil were put in 
 one mass into the broad, shallow boat, it 
 would get to swaying and rolling, and finally 
 upset the boat the same mishap they had 
 often experienced on a smaller scale when 
 trying to carry a shallow dish of water or 
 other liquid. 
 
 The boys learned that flat-boats are built 
 on the streams that form the headwaters of 
 the Alleghany, where lumber is plenty. They 
 are loaded with shingles, furniture, and other 
 merchandise, and floated down on high water, 
 to be sold along the river. When empty they 
 are used as oil boats. These two were built 
 away up in "York State," near Chatauqua 
 Lake, almost up to Lake Erie. Arthur had 
 learned that the waters of the Alleghany, 
 which finally empty into the Gulf of Mexico, 
 start near the same point where the waters 
 spring which go into Lake Erie and thence 
 empty into the Gulf of St. Lawrence; that 
 only a narrow ridge at first divides the drops 
 of water, which in the end reach the ocean so 
 many thousand miles apart. 
 
 As the land on which the Flag-and-Windmill 
 Well was sunk was leased, not purchased, by 
 uncle Charley, the oil did not all belong to 
 him and the boys. The owner of the farm 
 was entitled to one half of all the oil as his 
 share for the use of the land. This is called 
 the owner's " royalty." ^This term, their* fa- 
 ther told them, came from the tax put upon 
 all lands, mines, &c , in countries ruled by 
 
 FILLING THE BOATS. 
 
 royal governors ; they claim to own all the 
 land, and charge for - the use of it. This 
 charge or tax was called the right of royalty, 
 or the king's share. In this country each 
 land-owner is king of his own estate, and he 
 has the right of royalty in the land. 
 
 The owner of this farm decided to send his 
 share, or royalty, of the oil to market at the 
 same time; so that three boats were loaded 
 from uncle Charley's tanks. The loading was 
 done by screwing iron pipe to the faucets in the 
 tanks, and extending the pipe down to the 
 boats ; when the faucets were opened the boats 
 were very quickly loaded. 
 
 Now the boys were impatient to see the 
 teams hitched on and the boats start. They 
 were, as usual, too fast. The boatman told 
 them there was not enough water in the creek 
 to float the loaded boats down.. 
 
 "Sure enough the boats are aground now! 
 How are we going to get off? " inquired Ar- 
 thur, anxiously. 
 
 " Wait for a pond freshet," replied the boat- 
 man. 
 
 "A pond freshet ? What is that ? When is 
 it coming? Where is it coming from?" 
 
 These questions were all asked at once, by 
 both of the boys together, without giving the 
 boatman time to answer one of them. 
 
 In answer they learned that in low water an 
 artificial rise of the stream was secured by hir- 
 ing the mill-owners above to let the water out 
 of their dams. The upper dams on Oil Creek, 
 and the smaller streams which empty into 
 it, were first let off, and all the water in them 
 collected in the last and largest dam. Then, 
 at a given hour, the " slash-boards " of the big 
 dam are cut, and the accumulated flood let out 
 all ?.t once. On this flood all the boats loaded 
 
PETROLIA. 
 
 STARTING WITH THE " FRESHET.' 
 
 with oil along the creek floated down to Oil 
 City. At the same time the owners of the 
 mills would float their lumber down to market. 
 Sometimes a thousand craft went down on a 
 single "pond fresh." 
 
 "When is the next pond fresh coming?" 
 the boys asked, after listening eagerly to this 
 account. 
 
 " In a day or two. We usually have two a 
 week," was the reply. 
 
 It was so. That very day, the man who 
 superintended the pond freshets came along 
 the creek to give notice that the lower dam 
 would be cut at ten o'clock the next forenoon. 
 He also collected some money from the boat- 
 owners to help pay the cost of buying the 
 water of the mill-owners. 
 
 "Now," said uncle Charley, "do you boys 
 want to ride down to Oil City on horses, and 
 see the fleet of boats and rafts come in ? Or 
 do you prefer to ride down on the boats with 
 the freshet? There is a good deal of excite- 
 ment and considerable danger in making the 
 voyage." 
 
 This last consideration decided the boys im- 
 medii&ely in favor of going by boat ; the " dan- 
 ger" was the very thing they had the greatest 
 curiosity to see. It was finally arranged that 
 Arthur and his father should go down by the 
 boat, and Fred and his uncle go down by 
 land. Uncle Charley told his brother how to 
 manage with Arthur ia case of a smash-u.p. 
 
 There were always plenty of chances to jump 
 on the other boats, which filled the creek at 
 such times. 
 
 Early next day the boats were made ready 
 for the flood. The covers to the oil-bunks 
 were fastened down. The huge steering oars, 
 forty feet long, were hung on their pins at 
 each end of the boats ; thev projected out be- 
 fore and behind, like long wings. Besides the 
 oars, there were long setting-poles to push the 
 boat along with in deep, still water, and hand- 
 spikes to pry off the boat when it sticks fast, 
 to do which the men had to jump into the 
 stream to work. 
 
 All was ready before ten. Two men stood 
 at each oar; the pilot stood near the stern, 
 and Arthur and his father sat on two oil- 
 barrels, near the centre of the boat all wait- 
 ing the coming flood. Work had been sus- 
 pended at all wells on the creek, and the oil 
 operators and the people from the country 
 around came down to witness the exciting 
 scenes. Pond-fresh-days were general, holi- 
 days ; in fact, almost the only play-days the 
 busy oil men had. The bank was lined with 
 spectators all -along the creek. 
 
 Ten o'clock had passed by but a few mo- 
 ments when a low, distant murmur was heard, 
 like, the subdued roar of a far-off railway train. 
 
 "She's coming! ".said the pilot. "Some 
 of you men on the shore there stand by to 
 cast off our cables." 
 
PETROLIA. 
 
 37 
 
 THE COLLISION. 
 
 They untied the cables from the trees, and a 
 man stood holding an end of each, still keep- 
 ing it wound around the tree. 
 
 The roar of the coming flood increased rap- 
 idly, and soon shouts were heard from the 
 people up the creek. Then Arthur saw what 
 looked like a wall of water as high as a man's 
 head, filling the channel from bank to bank, 
 roaring like a cataract, white with foam, and 
 rushing rapidly. Its crest was covered with 
 boards, sticks, slabs, oyster-kegs, old barrels, 
 and all the litter of saw-mills, oil-diggings, 
 and oil-towns up the creek, including the car- 
 casses of horses killed by hard usage. Back 
 of these they could see the glitter of the sweep- 
 ing oars of the boats and rafts, already riding 
 the wave; and, above the roar of rushing 
 waters, they could hear the shouts of the 
 pilots, and the yells of the excited spectators. 
 
 Arthur never will forget the scene at the 
 moment when the wave seemed to be coming 
 down on their heads. His heart first stood 
 still, then filled his throat with a choking sen- 
 sation. But, in fact, the wave was not nearly 
 as large as it looked, and the real danger 
 was not of its overwhelming them. When it 
 reached the boats it lifted them like chips. 
 As the stern climbed the wave first, the bow 
 dipped low, sinking the forward oarsmen to 
 their knees in water. When the flood was 
 fairly under them, the pilot cried, " Cast off!" 
 The cables were let go, and the oarsmen 
 
 pulled the boat out from the banks. In work- 
 ing the oars they walked entirely across the 
 boat, pushing the stem of the oar before them, 
 raised so that the blade would dip ; then they 
 would run back quickly, carrying the stem 
 near the deck, and the blade out of water. 
 
 They were now shooting rapidly down with 
 the fleet. Other boats pulled out and joined 
 them every minute. Constant care was ne- 
 cessary to keep the boats from " fouling " with 
 each other. Where there was a bend in the 
 channel the oarsmen had to "pull lively "to 
 keep off the outside bank of the curve. The 
 mountains along shore echoed with the orders 
 of the pilots and the shouts of spectators. 
 
 When about a mile below the Flag-and- 
 Windmill Well, a row of large boats, of which 
 Arthur's was one, had moved up abreast, fill- 
 ing the channel completely full. This was 
 well enough for them, but it proved bad for 
 another row of boats tied along the bank be- 
 low, waiting to start. The moving boat next 
 the shore was bearing directly down on these 
 stationary boats. Its pilot, seeing the dan- 
 ger, shouted, "Left! Left, all ! Giveaway, 
 lively ! " and himself ran to help the forward 
 oarsmen. It was no use. They could not move 
 the whole rank of boats that filled the channel 
 and crowded against this one. It struck the 
 first of the stationary boats with a crash, 
 snapping both its cables like threads, and set- 
 ting it loose. The men en tJ" loosened boat 
 
PETROLIA. 
 
 SHOOTING THE BRIDGE. 
 
 bent to their oars to carry it out far enough 
 to clear the boat moored next below; but in 
 vain. It in turn struck that, and broke it 
 loose, and the two bore down on those be- 
 low. 
 
 The men on the rest of the shore boats now 
 saw that they must go whether they were 
 ready or not; so they all cut their cables, and 
 pulled out. 
 
 Meanwhile, the boat that first struck the 
 row, its headway being stopped a little, was 
 caught in the rear by the current, and whirled 
 completely around, end for end. The men on 
 it, when they saw they must swing, pulled 
 with all their power to whirl the boat faster 
 than the current, and thus keep from being 
 swamped by the current taking them sidewise 
 and pouring over the low gunwales of their 
 boat. They succeeded. 
 
 Strange as it may seem, none of the boats 
 were wrecked by this collision. But some of 
 the boats farthest down, of those which were 
 compelled to cut loose, were too far in advance 
 of the full head of the freshet to be safe. One 
 of these ran along a few rods, and then stuck 
 fast on a bar at the prow; the current turned 
 it sidewise; other boats came crashing down 
 against it; the water instantly poured over its 
 side and sank it to the bottom, and it was de- 
 molished and swept away. The men in it 
 sprang into other boats. 
 
 The three boats from the Flag-and- Windmill 
 Well were not in this jam. As they passed, 
 Arthur could see a confused mass of timber, 
 the ruins of three or four boats destroyed, bar- 
 rels, loose oil, &c., scattered on the stream. 
 
 The greatest danger for all was yet to come. 
 They were now rapidly approaching the Oil 
 City Bridge, and Arthur knew, by the anxious 
 
 faces of the men, that the perilous place was 
 there. He began almost to wish he was ashore. 
 When the bridge came in sight it looked 
 black all over with people; the shores also 
 were crowded. The pilot anxiously scanned 
 the motions of the drift-wood ahead of him, 
 to see on which side of the " centre bent," or 
 middle timbers of the bridge, the current ran 
 strongest; so he could decide which of two 
 channels to take. Presently he said, "I'll 
 take the right-hand shoot." 
 
 "Why don't you pull for it, then?" cried 
 Arthur, in great alarm, as he saw the boat 
 headed directly for the timbers of the bridge. 
 
 " If we pull too quick she'll swing too far. 
 We want to strike the right-hand current with 
 the boat on the swing, and let the current 
 help us ! " exclaimed the pilot. 
 
 At that moment Arthur spied Fred and 
 uncle Charley on the bridge waving their 
 hats to him. Arthur responded vigorously. 
 
 When they were almost to the bridge, and 
 Arthur had given up all hope of the boat 
 clearing the timbers, the pilot suddenly yelled, 
 ''Right!" The men gave three quick, pow- 
 erful strokes to the oars ; the boat veered slow- 
 ly to the right, not enough to clear. She will 
 strike! No; the current takes her, and swings 
 her easily over. She just clears the timbers, 
 and shoots, with a rush and a splash, past the 
 big brace and under the bridge, safe and 
 clear ! 
 
 The crowd cheered loudly, again and again, 
 over this skilful handling of the boat, in 
 which Fred and Arthur joined with all their 
 might. 
 
 Arthur looked back, and saw how the boat 
 would have fared if the pilot had steered as 
 he wanted him to. The next boat behind 
 them began to pull over too soon. As its 
 head took the right-hand current, the counter 
 current on the other side struck its stern. It 
 began to swing around sidewise. and in one 
 minute it was hurled across the shelving brace 
 of the bridge with a crash ! It bent and hung 
 there, high up on the brace, like a pair of 
 saddle-bags, emptying the cargo out into the 
 stream. The crew ran to the middle and 
 clambered up the timbers, and were pulled on 
 the bridge by the people above. 
 
 The next boat struck this, and the next, and 
 the next. Some pulled over far enough to es- 
 cape under the bridge ; more went into the 
 jam. Boats and rafts were piled on each 
 other in the wildest confusion. Crash ! smash ! 
 they came : endwise, sidewise, every way. 
 Water roared and tore over the wrecks. The 
 black, odorous oil was sent flying in every di- 
 
PETROLIA. 
 
 39 
 
 
 SNUBBING THE BOAT. 
 
 rection through the air, and over the people. 
 Thousands and thousands of dollars were 
 sunk and lost in a few moments. An under 
 current speedily formed beneath the wreck, 
 and many of the boats were sucked under, 
 and went completely out of sight. 
 
 The men on them made good their escape 
 by the first opportunity. One boat ran partly 
 over a sunken one stuck, tilted for a min- 
 ute; then her bow was sucked down so quick- 
 ly that her stern was jerked in the air, ajnd the 
 men, who had run back, were sent flying, just 
 as the boys shoot up stones by striking one 
 end of a tilted stick on which they are placed. 
 The men landed in the water a few feet dis- 
 tant with a great splash, and swam ashore, 
 sputtering and swearing, amidst the shouts 
 and laughter of the crowd. 
 
 The channel was now completely blocked 
 by the wrecks of a dozen boats ; and the creek 
 above, from bank to bank, was jammed full of 
 rafts and boats. No more boats got through 
 that day, as the freshet had begun to subside. 
 Most of those in the creek, above the bridge, 
 saved their cargoes, and got off with the next 
 freshet. 
 
 The stream, for miles below, was covered 
 with barrels of oil, lumber, oars, poles, frag- 
 ments of boats, all floating in the thick 
 flood of oil which covered the stream.* 
 
 The boat Arthur was on alone of the three 
 that started together got through. After they 
 passed the bridge the boat was crowded up 
 against the shore to slacken its velocity some- 
 what. One of the boatmen then jumped 
 ashore with a cable, and made a " running- 
 hitch" around a stump that is, he wound it 
 
 * By one pond-freshet jam over thirty thousand barrels of 
 oil were estimated to have been lost. 
 
 around so that it would slip slowly, holding 
 the end and gradually checking the motion of 
 the boat. This is called " snubbing " a boat. 
 
 "I can do that, I guess," said Arthur. 
 
 " Guess not, sonny," said an old raftsman. 
 "You'd probably break the cable or your own 
 leg perhaps both, and your jolly neck into 
 the bargain." 
 
 Arthur thought the boatman very disrespect- 
 ful. " Sonny ! " said Arthur to himself, indig- 
 nantly ; " and I in my teens ! " 
 
 Uncle Charley and Fred were waiting on 
 the bank for them. He told them he had al- 
 ready sold the oil in the boat to one of the 
 numerous oil brokers that assembled at Oil 
 City on pond-freshet days. The other boat 
 was a total loss. It happened that the wrecked 
 cargo was the one taken " at owner's risk," at 
 fifty cents a barrel; and the one that came 
 through was the one whose delivery was in- 
 sured by the boat-owner at seventy-five cents. 
 So they had to pay freight both on the lost oil 
 and on the other. 
 
 After paying all charges, the money left 
 gave the boys thirty dollars each for their 
 shares. They felt exceedingly happy and rich. 
 They had never owned so much money before, 
 " all for their own." Uncle Charley, however, 
 was not so well satisfied, and declared he would 
 never ship any more oil by boats. 
 
 The owner of the farm, who had lost all of 
 his oil, said the same, and declared that he 
 would immediately put up tankage enough to 
 hold all the oil produced on his farm until it 
 could be shipped by rail. 
 
4 o 
 
 PETROLIA. 
 
 MMfflSl t-JOHMSQN-H f. 
 
 PART III. 
 
 UPS AND DOWNS OF THE OIL 
 
 BUSINESS. 
 
 THE owner of the farm on which was the 
 Flag-and- Windmill Well proceeded im- 
 mediately to carry out the determination he 
 made when his boat and the one belonging to 
 Arthur, Fred, and uncle Charley were lost in 
 the "pond freshet jam," viz., to build tanks 
 to receive all the oil produced by all the wells 
 on his farm, until it could be sold, barrelled, 
 and shipped away profitably and safely. 
 
 He contracted with a firm in Titusville to 
 build for him two iron tanks of four thousand 
 barrels capacity each. The iron plates, of 
 which these tanks were built, were rolled out, 
 cut the right size and shape to form the bot- 
 tom and sides when put together; the pieces 
 for the sides were bent to the proper curve, 
 and all were punched with rivet-holes all 
 around the edges. All this was done at the 
 shops, and so accurately calculated that when 
 the pieces were taken to the farm, and each 
 one fitted to its proper place, they made ex- 
 actly the right sized and shaped bottom ; the 
 curved pieces met in a complete circle of the 
 
 right size, and all the rivet-holes came oppo- 
 site exactly, so that the bolts could be put in 
 and the plates riveted together. Every piece 
 fitted as it should to make an iron tub forty- 
 one feet in diameter and seventeen feet deep. 
 
 The boys were amazed to see the confused 
 heap of iron plates go together and gradually 
 build the great tanks. They speedily " scraped 
 an acquaintance " with the greasy machinists, 
 who looked so rough and understood their 
 business so well. They found them to be very 
 intelligent and civil, as well as very clever 
 men, rough as they looked. 
 
 When the big tanks were done, all the pro- 
 ducing wells on the farm were allowed to lay 
 pipes to them and run their oil in to be 
 stored. For this storage the proprietor of the 
 tanks charged them a small fee per barrel. 
 In time he got enough money back for tank- 
 age of other men's oil to repay him the cost 
 of the tanks, which was six thousand five hun- 
 dred dollars for both tanks. By measuring 
 the depth of the oil before and after each 
 man ran a small tank of oil in, he could com- 
 pute how much had been delivered to be 
 stored, and was entitled to be taken out again 
 by each person. 
 
 Uncle Charley and the boys bought barrels 
 and barrelled their oil as fast as they could 
 
PETROLIA. 
 
 4 1 
 
 It was only when the Flag-and- Windmill Well 
 got the start of them, and filled their tanks 
 before they could haul it away, that they ran 
 it into the big tanks. 
 
 Although the well produced prodigious 
 quantities of oil, they did not get rich very 
 fast. It cost so much to buy barrels, put up 
 the oil, and hire it teamed across the moun- 
 tain to the railroad, that but little was left for 
 their share of the sales. The teamsters de- 
 manded all they could exact for hauling the 
 oil. They calculated just how much the oil 
 would sell for, what it cost to barrel it, and 
 they would take nearly all the remainder, 
 leaving a very little profit for the owners of 
 the oil for which generosity uncle Charley 
 always thanked them with the most profound 
 gratitude. These expenses "ate up" nearly 
 all the receipts. 
 
 Then, the striking of several large wells had 
 increased the supply of oil so largely that the 
 market was overstocked, and the price of oil 
 went down to a very low point. Uncle Char- 
 ley said if the market kept on downward, he'd 
 soon have to pay some one to take the oil as 
 a gift. 
 
 In addition to small profits, their supply 
 began to decrease. The production of the 
 Flag-and-Windmill Well lessened a little ev- 
 ery day from the first. Its yield had been 
 largely overrated on the start. It made such 
 a display of power and production, that 
 everybody who saw it gauged its yield too 
 high. It is probable, after the water was all 
 drawn off, it never had yielded more than 
 eight hundred and fifty barrels per day, actual 
 measurement. At the end of two months this 
 had decreased to between five and six hun- 
 dred barrels per day. The spirts from "Na- 
 ture's wounded artery " grew less violent and 
 less frequent, as though she were slowly sink- 
 ing and expiring from loss of much blood. 
 There were now intervals of fifteen or twenty 
 minutes between the spasms of flow, during 
 which the well was entirely quiet. 
 
 This falling off alarmed the boys. They 
 asked their uncle if he supposed the well was 
 going to cease flowing altogether. 
 
 Uncle Charley said he expected it to, in the 
 course of time; all flowing wells do. 
 
 " And what will we do then?" asked both 
 of the young " operators " at once. 
 
 " Well," was the reply, " we can pump the 
 well, and make it continue to pay as long as 
 there is any oil left in the veins tapped by it. 
 When that don't pay, we can abandon the Flag- 
 and-Windmill Well, and sink other wells on 
 this lease. Or, we can sell out this lease, and 
 
 all we have here, and take the money and quit 
 the business with the little pile we have made ; 
 or go somewhere else, make another lease, 
 and try our luck again. Now, which would 
 you like to do ? " 
 
 " How much can we sell out for?" asked the 
 careful little Yankees. 
 
 " Not as much as we could have got two 
 months ago. When we first struck oil, I was 
 offered for our interest in the well how much 
 do you guess, now?" 
 
 The boys had got some new ideas as to the 
 extent of the money operations of the oil coun- 
 try, and thought they could gues-s pretty near. 
 
 "Fifty hundred dollars," said Fred. 
 
 " Pooh ! " exclaimed Arthur, contemptuous- 
 ly. "I guess fifty thousand dollars," going, 
 as he thought, to an extreme price. 
 
 Uncle Charley laughed. " I was offered one 
 million dollars, and refused." 
 
 " Why didn't you sell ? " asked Arthur, vain- 
 ly trying to get some idea of how much a mil- 
 lion dollars is. 
 
 " Well, I thought I could make more to hold 
 on. And I don't think I'd sell for that now." 
 
 " Hem ! I would, if I were you," said Fred. 
 
 " Would you ? " rejoined his uncle. " Well, 
 you and Arthur may sell your interest, if you 
 wish to. You'll find plenty of speculators ready 
 to make you an offer." 
 
 The two young " greasers " talked their busi- 
 ness over together. Fred said, " How much 
 is our interest worth ? " 
 
 " If uncle Charley's whole interest, with 
 ours, is worth a million dollars, ours, which 
 is one twenty-fifth of his, must be worth forty 
 thousand dollars." 
 
 " I guess that's about a fair price for our in- 
 terest," said Fred ; " if any of the spectators 
 offer that, let's sell, Arthur." 
 
 He looked puzzled and undecided. Either 
 of the boys had but little comprehension of 
 the sum they were talking about so glibly, and 
 with such business-like airs. 
 
 They did not have long to wait for a chance 
 to sell, for within a week, two men, rough and 
 mud-bespattered, came along and asked uncle 
 Charley if he would sell his interest in the 
 Flag-and-Windmill Well. He said he guessed 1 
 not, but perhaps they could make a trade with 
 two young fellows who owned a small interest 
 with him. 
 
 " Where are they, and how much do they 
 own?" asked the speculators. 
 
 "There they are, and they each own one 
 fiftieth of the working interest," answered 
 uncle Charley, pointing to the boys. 
 
 "What, those little shavers! Do- they own. 
 
PETROLIA. 
 
 THE BOY OPERATORS AND THE SPECULATORS. 
 
 as much property as that?" exclaimed one of 
 the men. 
 
 " Those must be the ' boy operators' I heard 
 them telling about at Titusville," said the oth- 
 e> man. 
 
 The boys stood up as straight and tall as 
 possible, and tried to look business-like, and 
 appear as if they had been in such large trans- 
 actions all their (short) lives. It did appeal 
 largely to their pride to be referred to as part- 
 ners of so old and successful an operator as 
 uncle Charley ; to hear that they were known 
 and talked of " on change," and to be called 
 on to negotiate a forty thousand dollar trade. 
 They could hardly realize it, and thought, 
 " What would father and mother, and the boys 
 in our school, sayHf they knew what a big 
 business we are doing?" 
 
 One of the men gave the other a sly wink, 
 r.nd said to the boys, 
 
 "Give you thirty thousand three days' 
 buyers' option two thousand refusal. What 
 d'ye say ? " 
 
 This was "all Greek" to Fred. But Ar- 
 thur's inquiring turn of mind had put him in 
 possession of the meaning of " refusal," so that 
 he understood the men offered two thousand 
 for the privilege of taking the interest any time 
 within three days. So he said, 
 
 " You can have it for forty thousand." 
 
 "It's a bargain." And one of the men 
 counted out two thousand and handed it to 
 
 Arthur. Uncle Charley told them he would 
 make the transaction good, so far as the boys 
 could not. 
 
 As the men rode away, Arthur heard one of 
 them say to the other, 
 
 " You didn't catch that boy did you ? He's 
 a sharp 'un." 
 
 " Uncle Charley," said Fred, " do you sup- 
 pose they will come back and take the well? 
 They don't look as if they had so much 
 money." 
 
 "They have not," replied uncle Charley; 
 " I shouldn't wonder if this two thousand was 
 their pile." 
 
 " Then how are they going to buy our well ? " 
 asked the astonished boys. 
 
 "They don't want to buy the well; they 
 want to sell it." 
 
 " Why, no ! " exclaimed Fred ; " we own the 
 well, and ive want to sell it. Haven't they 
 agreed to buy it, I'd like to know?" 
 
 "You can't sell it, if you do want to at 
 least, you have no right to sell at any price, 
 during the next three days. No one can sell 
 your interest for the next three days but those 
 men. If some one should now come and offer 
 you sixty thousand dollars or eighty thousand 
 dollars, you couldn't sell. Those fellows will 
 find a buyer at an advance. Although they 
 don't own it, and don't intend to, they may 
 sell it for fifty or sixty thousand dollars ; then 
 they will pay you thirty-eight thousand more, 
 
PETROLIA. 
 
 43 
 
 and pocket the rest for their profits. That's 
 the way they make their money." 
 
 "What!" exclaimed Fred," warmly; "if 
 some one offers us more than forty thousand 
 dollars, can't we sell and make the profit, in- 
 stead of those spectators f " 
 
 " No, sir! You've sold the chance to do that, 
 and got your two thousand dollars for it." 
 
 "That ain't fair! " cried Fred; " I won't do 
 that. We ought to sell for more, if we can." 
 
 "It isn't at all likely you can, so don't get 
 excited about it. Those men know where to 
 find customers at big figures; you don't. 
 You are doing well enough. If they don't 
 sell, you will have the two thousand dollars 
 clear. If they do, you will have forty thou- 
 sand dollars, and I should think that was a 
 comfortable little pocket-full for a couple of 
 boys." 
 
 "I declare!" added he, to himself, laugh- 
 ing, "there's just about the same nature in 
 boys, as in men. Those boys never owned a 
 hundred dollars of their own, and now they 
 want to bolt a bargain that gives them two 
 thousand dollars sure, and forty thousand 
 dollars probably, for the possible chance of 
 a few thousand dollars more. Human na- 
 ture can't be satisfied. The little scamps act 
 just as I would, for all the world. They learn 
 fast." 
 
 Then he said aloud, " Fred, you seem to be 
 somewhat dissatisfied with the offer you have 
 made. Have you any idea how much money 
 forty thousand dollars is, do you suppose? 
 Do you know it would buy four or five farms 
 like your father's ; make you the richest men 
 in your village; and, at simple interest, give 
 you two boys about eight dollars to spend every 
 day of your lives. It would put you where 
 you never need work a day, if you don't want 
 to. Guess you don't know when you have a 
 good thing. I'm afraid this oil business is 
 demoralizing you. Learn to be contented 
 with enough." 
 
 He was going on with a highly instructive 
 "preachment," when Fred, with a boy's di- 
 rectness and want of reverence, interrupted 
 him with, 
 
 " Why, uncle, when you had a chance to 
 sell for a million dollars, you didn't, but stuck 
 on to make more! A million dollars is more 
 than forty thousand." 
 
 This cut short uncle Charley's lecture on 
 contentment. He had to turn his face away 
 to hide a look of confusion and mirth. The 
 vastness of these transactions confused the 
 boys, while the immense sums of money that 
 changed hands, the large fortunes made and 
 
 lost dally around them, upset all their previ- 
 ous ideas of the value of money. They now 
 thought and spoke of a thousand dollars as 
 they once would have spoken and thought of 
 a dime. By a single stroke of luck, there 
 seemed to lie at the feet of these two boys a 
 fortune many times larger than their parents 
 had been able to accumulate by a lifetime of 
 patient toil, good management, and close econ- 
 omy. All the wonders of Aladdin's transfor- 
 mations, of which they had often read, were 
 utterly cast into the shade by this sudden, 
 mysterious, powerful upspouting of greasy 
 wealth. Yet they had got a glimpse only 
 a peep into the vast wealth unlocked from 
 the caverns of earth, and spread abroad over 
 its surface. 
 
 The boys indulged in many dreams and 
 plans as to what they would do with their for- 
 tune when it came. It was only a dream, 
 and a very short one. Like many older oper- 
 ators, these boys were counting their chickens 
 before the eggs were hatched. For, the second 
 day after the refusal was given, the Flag-and- 
 Windmill Well was flooded and ruined. This 
 calamity came in this way: 
 
 As soon as the big well was struck, the own- 
 ers of leases adjoining commenced to bore 
 wells as close as they could get, in hopes of 
 striking the same great reservoir of oil from 
 which the Flag-and- Windmill Well was sup- 
 plied. In this attempt one of the wells suc- 
 ceeded. But the result was not what was an- 
 ticipated. As soon as the new well penetrated 
 the cavity, instead of commencing to spout, as 
 the Flag-and-Windmill had done, it allowed a 
 great column of water to rush down, fill the 
 crevice, and stop the flow of oil and gas into 
 the Flag-and-Windmill Well. The pressure 
 of gas and oil, which had kept the latter flow- 
 ing being thus removed, it also filled with 
 water. In a few minutes both wells were full 
 of water to an equal height, and there they 
 rested. The Flag-and-Windmill Well was 
 good for nothing in that condition for either 
 production or sale : of course the speculators 
 never came back with the balance of the forty 
 thousand dollars. 
 
 Thus, in an hour, uncle Charley and the 
 boys saw a million of dollars vanish ; and the 
 forty thousand they almost had their hands 
 on, slipped through their fingers. To them 
 it was a great disappointment. But their 
 uncle took it very coolly; he actually laughed, 
 and said, 
 
 " Never mind, boys! This is greaser's luck. 
 We must take the lean with the fat." 
 
 " But," said Arthur, " what are we going to 
 
44 
 
 PETROLIA. 
 
 FRED "KEPT TALLY." Page 43. 
 
 do now? Can't the water be got out, and make 
 it spout oil again?" 
 
 " It would be of no use to pump the water 
 from one well alone. The other well would 
 flood it, if not pumped also. Both wells have 
 got to be cased water-tight, and pumped, and 
 kept clear. Then both wells would probably 
 yield." 
 
 This course uncle Charley immediately pro- 
 posed to the owners of the new well. They 
 were greedy, exacting men, and thought they 
 had the big well in their power. They said 
 thej r would do what uncle Charley proposed, 
 if he would give them half the oil produced 
 for him thereafter by the Flag-and-Windmill 
 Well ; and they offered to give him half the 
 yield of their well, if it produced anything. 
 In other words, they would make an equal 
 partnership in the profits of the two wells. 
 They did not know that their well would pro- 
 duce anything: they did know that the Flag- 
 and-Windmill Well would yield enormously. 
 
 This demand uncle Charley would not ac- 
 cede to. He tried to buy the new well, and 
 get it out of the way. They said they would 
 sell and get out of the way for two hundred 
 and fifty thousand dollars ! Their well was not 
 worth it perhaps not worth anything. They 
 priced it according to its value, not for good, 
 but for harm. They thought they could com- 
 pel the Flag-and-Windmill Well" to buy them 
 off at that price. 
 
 Uncle Charley said he'd " see them hanged 
 before he'd pay it." And they never got the 
 two hundred and fifty thousand dollars theyfe\t 
 so sure of. 
 
 So there the wells stood, full of water, and 
 useless to the owners of either. 
 
 " What are we going to do about it?" asked 
 the boys. 
 
 "Well," replied their uncle, "we can sell 
 out our well as it stands, with the lease, en- 
 gine, rig, tanks, &c., and quit the business; 
 or, we can hoid the well just as it is, and 
 lie still until those fellows come to their 
 senses ; they have sunk all the money they 
 have got in their well ; we haven't. Or, we 
 needn't wait at all. We have got six thousand 
 five hundred barrels of oil in tanks and barrels. 
 We can sell this for enough to sink more wells 
 on our lease, and I think we would stand a 
 good chance to make another strike. Now, 
 which do you say do sell out and quit, wait 
 for those pigs to come down, or sink more 
 wells ? " 
 
 Arthur reflected a moment, and then asked, 
 "If it would make the Flag-and-Windmill 
 Well again worth a big sum, why isn't it a 
 good thing to buy off the new well?" 
 
 " For several reasons it is not good policy," 
 answered the old operator. " First, if we 
 should pay two hundred and fifty thousand 
 dollars to buy off this well', in less than a 
 month we should have forty more wells to buy 
 
PETROLIA. 
 
 45 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY'S GOOD BY. 
 
 off; they would crowd around the Flag-and- 
 Windmill Well, like flies around a honey-pot, 
 trying to tap it and our pockets. We don't 
 want to offer an inducement to men to flood 
 our well ; they will think they can strike our 
 money, if they don't strike oil; we might as 
 well give up at once, as to offer both our well 
 and ourselves to be pumped dry, in that way. 
 In the second place, it is a question of doubt 
 as to what the Flag-and- Windmill Well will 
 do if restored : she may pay, and may not; I 
 don't want to pay two hundred and fifty thou- 
 sand dollars on an uncertainty." 
 
 " Can't we stop them spoiling our business, 
 so?" asked Arthur, indignantly, all his sense 
 of justice and right aroused by the conduct of 
 their selfish and obstinate neighbors. 
 
 "I don't know; I think I'll try and see if 
 the law will give us justice. There is a clause 
 in my lease and in theirs -that forbids their 
 leaving their well unvested, to flood another 
 well." 
 
 This was a foolish determination on the 
 part of uncle Charley, for he would lose more 
 money by the delays and expenses of the law 
 than it would have cost him to buy up the new 
 well, even at the exorbitant price asked. 
 
 As the boys' vacation was now nearly end- 
 
 ed, and all operations were suspended, no one 
 knew for how long, at the Flag-and-Windmill 
 Well, they concluded they would close out their 
 oil business until their next visit to Petrolia. 
 
 Accordingly they and their uncle proceeded 
 to market the oil they had on hand. Large 
 numbers of barrels were bought and filled. It 
 was a busy, bustling scene. One large gang 
 of men, under uncle Charley's direction, was 
 engaged in drawing the oil from the tanks 
 into the barrels, while another gang under 
 Arthur rolled them away, and helped load 
 them on the wagons. Fred had a book, and 
 " kept tally," putting down the name of the 
 teamster, and the number of barrels he re- 
 ceived to haul at each load. 
 
 The caravan of teams was a sight. They 
 covered the ground thickly around the tanks, 
 as many as could load at once. They were 
 constantly going and coming in long trains. 
 They commenced to work at daylight in the 
 morning, and worked until after dark. Many 
 horses were killed by overwork. The roads 
 were very muddy and deep. Constant pas- 
 sage of heavily-loaded wagons cut the soft soil 
 up into deep holes and ruts. 
 
 At this time came another turn in the 
 " greaser's luck," that served to put a little 
 light into the dark picture of the drowning 
 out of the Flag-and-Windmill Well. Oil just 
 " in the nick of time " took a sudden upward 
 turn in price ; it advanced to a very profitable 
 figure. It was to take advantage of this that 
 uncle Charley crowded the work of shipment 
 as hard as possible. 
 
 They succeeded in getting it all out to the 
 railroad, and sold just at the highest point 
 reached. By this lucky turn they made more 
 off that one lot than they had off all thev had 
 sold before. The profits amounted to nearly 
 thirty thousand dollars, of which the boys 
 were entitled to two fiftieths, or twelve hun- 
 dred dollars. 
 
 They had the two thousand dollars which 
 the two speculators had paid for the three 
 days' refusal of their interest, and about one 
 thousand dollars cleared off pi-evious sales of 
 oil. They figured it all up, and found they 
 could boast of over four thousand dollars in 
 their own right. 
 
 *' That's a~ pretty good vacation's work, if 
 we 'didn't get the forty thousand .dollars we 
 thought we were going to," said Fred. 
 
 "Fred," said Arthur, "should we carryall 
 this home with us?" 
 
 " Yes; why not? " 
 
 "Because, if uncle Charley is at any ex- 
 1 pense to get the Flag-and-Windmill Well to 
 
46 PETROLIA. 
 
 operating again we ought to help pay the ex- 
 pense ; besides, if we don't, we can't expect 
 any interest in it when it produces again. I 
 want to stand by uncle Charley and the old 
 Flag-and-Windmill Well." 
 
 "All right," said Fred; "so do I. Let's 
 leave half our money here with him to put 
 things through with, until we can come 
 again." 
 
 So they did. A few days after they bade 
 good by to the bustling, dirty, exciting scene. 
 
 " Three cheers for the Flag-and-Windmill 
 Well ! " cried Fred. 
 
 They gave them with a boyish will. 
 
 " Three more and a tiger for uncle Char- 
 ley ! " said Arthur.. 
 
 They gave these with redoubled energy. 
 
 Uncle Charley climbed up to the top of the 
 now motionless working-beam, and waved his 
 hat to them as long as he could see them on 
 their winding way down the mountain side. 
 
 They reached home in Massachusetts in 
 safety rugged, brown, happy, and rich. 
 They had drafts on the bank for two thou- 
 sand dollars. 
 
 The boys were the admiration and envy of 
 their school, and were extensively lionized by 
 the whole country round as " the two little 
 shavers who made a pile in the oil diggings." 
 These attentions soon reconciled the boys to 
 the profits, which at one time seemed a mere 
 trifle compared with the forty thousand dol- 
 lars they didn't get so small as to seem 
 hardly worth bringing home. They found 
 that it didn't take as much to make " a rich 
 man " at their country home as it did among 
 the " oil princes " and millionnaires of Penn- 
 sylvania. 
 
 Our boys and girls who have read the his- 
 tory of the Flag-and-Windmill Well will per- 
 haps remember that when Arthur and Fred 
 started for Petrolia, little Lulu requested them 
 to bring her a bottle of " oi-e-1 to dease her 
 haa." Lulu also remembered it, though her 
 brothers had long since forgotten it, in the 
 exciting, wild. life they had lived. In the 
 midst of the general joy over the safe return 
 of the young "operators," and of the exulta- 
 tion over their good fortune, Lulu was left to 
 her own devices. She improved the occasion 
 to dive into the boys' trunk, and fished up 
 therefrom a bottle of crude petroleum, which 
 they had brought home to exhibit as a curi- 
 osity. When she was at last missed, by rea- 
 son of her stillness, she was found squared up 
 before the mirror on a chair, industriously 
 " deasing her haa." She had soaked her 
 golden-yellow,, flossy locks so thoroughly 
 
 LULU STRIKES OIL. 
 
 with the black, sticky, stinking stuff, that the 
 traces of it could not be got out of her 
 hair, nor the scent of it out of the house, in 
 weeks. 
 
 "Hurrah!" cried Fred; "another one of 
 the family has struck oil ! " 
 
 Arthur asked his mother, mischievously, 
 " what she would take for her working inter- 
 est in Lulu's strike?" 
 
 "Mother can't see where the laugh comes 
 in ! " said Fred. 
 
 All the rest of the family did, judging by 
 the noise they made about that time. 
 
 All the subsequent history of the Flag-and- 
 Windmill Well, and the improved condition 
 of things Arthur and Fred found, on their 
 next visit to Petrolia, will be hereafter de- 
 scribed ; also what they did with all the mon- 
 ey they made in the oil business. 
 
PETROLIA. 
 
 47 
 
 PART IV. 
 
 PUMPING OIL. " TORPEDOING " THE 
 WELL. 
 
 WHEN Fred and Arthur again returned to 
 the oil regions great changes had taken 
 place in the appearance of the country, in the 
 oil business, and in the location of the oil 
 territory. 
 
 Railroads had been built to all important 
 points in the oil country, affording conven- 
 ient and rapid outlets' to market. "tThe man- 
 ner of handling and shipping oil had changed ; 
 the army of teams and fleets of oil boats on 
 " pond freshets " had passed away. The man- 
 ner of sinking wells, of buying, selling, and 
 leasing territory, marketing oil, and, in fact, 
 the whole character of the business, had im- 
 proved wonderfully. Besides, the region of 
 oil-producing wells had shifted from place to 
 place. Oil had been struck in new places not 
 before considered at all likely to be oil terri- 
 tory, and most of the localities that had once 
 been the most valuable had been exhausted 
 and ceased to produce. Where once the boys 
 had seen thousands of men busy and excited 
 with the tremendous supply of oil, all was now 
 still and stagnant; no one was to be seen 
 not even one of the long-nosed, gaunt hogs, 
 that seemed to be everywhere in that country. 
 They went to a spot where once had stood a 
 city, with banks, theatres, grand hotels, large 
 stores, and daily papers. All that could be 
 seen was a few shanties and a wilderness of 
 derricks the mournful monuments of lost 
 hopes and buried fortunes. 
 
 Fred inquired of a lone resident of the spot 
 what had become of all the buildings? 
 
 " They were torn down, and the lumber sold. 
 Part of them were burned in big oil fires. The 
 four story hotel that stood here (pointing to 
 the spot) was moved away to the next place 
 where there was a big oil excitement." 
 
 The boys also saw the bridges and embank- 
 ments of what had once been a railroad, over 
 which they had formerly ridden. Business 
 had passed out of its reach, and it had been 
 taken up. As the other side of this dark pic- 
 ture they saw many new towns where they 
 had formerly seen but a wilderness. And 
 there seemed to be a more settled and stable 
 appearance to the places and the people. They 
 learned that the borers found no more big 
 flowing wells now, but paying wells were more 
 numerous. There were more chances for an 
 operator to make something to pay him ; and 
 so- many more paying wells were struck that 
 
 more oil was produced than when the big levi- 
 athan spouters were going. So great were 
 the changes that a short time had made ! It 
 gave the boys new ideas as to the persever- 
 ance, energy, ingenuity, and pluck of the won- 
 derful men of that wonderful country. 
 
 Luckily uncle Charley's lease had not en- 
 tirely become "played out" territory, as they 
 call it when it ceases to yield. The Flag-and- 
 Windmill well, which they left full of water, 
 was, after months of delay and contest, cleaned 
 out and got to producing again. The arrange- 
 ment finally made with the rival well was the 
 very one uncle Charley had at first proposed 
 to his selfish neighbors. The owners of each 
 well agreed to case and pump his own well, 
 and keep it free of water and get what he 
 could out of it. The two wells were in process 
 of tubing when the boys returned to the spot, 
 so they were on hand to see the whole opera- 
 tion of bringing the old Flag-and-Windmill 
 Well to life again. 
 
 The first step was to case the well. This 
 was done to make the well water-tight. The 
 casing is iron pipe four and a half to six inches 
 in diameter; it is screwed together in joints 
 by means of a thimble or collar, into which 
 each end of a length fits. It is put into the 
 well to make a water-tight barrel in which 
 they could put the pump-tubing and work the 
 pump. As the casing is to shut off the springs 
 of water that flow into the well, it has to be 
 put down as far as there were any water-veins. 
 
 Arthur now saw the benefit of the log-book 
 he had kept when the well was drilling. The 
 log told where the water-veins were found. 
 He consulted the book, and informed the 
 workmen that they would have to go down to 
 the first sand-rock to get below all 
 the water-veins ; which would re- 
 quire three hundred and thirty feet 
 of casing to be put in the well. 
 
 The manner of putting down the 
 casing interested the boys. One 
 length of pipe was let down into the 
 well; it was kept from falling by a 
 pair of clamps. These were clasped 
 around the pipe just below the col- 
 lar which was screwed on the upper 
 end of the pipe/ The clamp was 
 locked tight by means of a link on 
 the handles. The coupling kept the 
 clamp from slipping off the pipe, and 
 the clamp resting across the mouth of 
 the well kept the whole from falling. 
 A curious machine, called a sivivel, 
 was now screwed in the coupling of Clamp 
 another length of pipe. The swivel 
 
PETROLIA. 
 
 Swivel 
 
 has a heavy hook in it which can turn with- 
 out unscrewing the rest of the machine from 
 the casing. 
 
 "Why," said Arthur, "that's just like the 
 swivel on my watch-chain." 
 
 " Yes," said Fred ; " and it's just 
 like the swivel on father's big log- 
 chain." 
 
 When the swivel was tightly 
 screwed on the length of casing, it 
 was hooked on the bull-wheel rope, 
 the engine started up, and the piece 
 of pipe elevated until it hung up- 
 right, end to end with the length in 
 the well. A big pair of tongs were 
 now put on the upper piece of pipe, and it 
 was screwed down into the coupling 
 as far and as tight as it could be 
 forced. The clamp held the lower 
 piece from turning. 
 
 When the connection was made 
 secure the clamp was loosened 
 enough to let the coupling pass 
 through. The bull-wheel was turn- 
 ed, and the pipe let down until the 
 next coupling arrived at the clamp ; 
 then the clamp closed on the pipe 
 again, and held it. The swivel 
 was unscrewed and attached to 
 another length of casing; and the 
 operation repeated until a continu- 
 ous casing was screwed together, 
 and let down as far as the first sand- 
 rock. Great care was taken all the 
 Tonas ^ me that ^ ie neav y casing should 
 not slip through and go down the 
 well with a crash; to this end the. clamp 
 was kept just loose enough to let the pipe 
 slip through while it was being lowered, but 
 not loose enough to let the coupling go 
 through. Thus if the engine, bull-wheel, 
 drill, rope, or swivel, any one, or all of 
 them, should give way, the casing could 
 fall only till the last coupling reached the 
 clamp ; then the clamp would stop the falling 
 pipe at the coupling. Two men attended the 
 clamp while the casing was passing down, to 
 see that it kept the work secure. 
 
 But before the first piece was put in the 
 well, the workmen fastened on the lower end 
 a seed-bag. The seed-bag is a simple con- 
 trivance for sealing up the space between the 
 casing and the rock water-tight, so that no 
 water can pass down farther than the seed- 
 bag at the first sand-rock. It is a strong 
 leather sack, about four feet long. They first 
 Jashed it firmly around the lower end of the 
 casing. Then the bag was filled with flax- 
 
 seed, and the whole wrapped around the cas- 
 ing, and firmly bound there. 
 
 Fred said it looked like a broken leg with a 
 poultice and bandages on it. It made a bunch 
 on the pipe nearly, but not quite, large enough 
 to fill the space between the casing and the 
 rock. When the casing, thus swaddled in 
 leather and flax-seed, was let down to place, 
 the water gradually penetrated the leather 
 and soaked the seed. In a few hours it swelled 
 so as to fill the space around the pipe full and 
 tight. Thus all the water was shut in between 
 the casing and the rock, and above the seed- 
 bag; it could not get into the casing, nor run 
 down to flood the well below the casing. 
 
 The same work was, at the same time, done 
 in the well on the next lease. 
 
 The next step was to put in a pump and 
 pump-pipe, called ttibing. The pump, or 
 pump-barrel, is a brass tube six feet long and 
 two inches inside diameter. At the lower end 
 its bore is contracted a little ; this is to wedge 
 in tightly the lower valve-box. 
 Two valves operate in the pump-barrel. 
 The lower valve-box is sta- 
 tionary, and therefore is 
 called the standing - box. 
 The other valve rises and 
 falls in the barrel with the 
 plunger. It is called the 
 upper-box. 
 
 These pump-boxes are of 
 brass, have a " ball valve," 
 and are surrounded with 
 several rings of leather, call- 
 Upperpump bOK. e d "packing," to make them 
 fit tight in the barrel, and 
 " suck " up the oil. A pro- 
 jection at the lower end of 
 the working-box is fitted 
 to screw into the standing- 
 box ; by letting one box 
 down on the other, and turn- 
 ing the upper one, the two 
 become attached together, 
 and so can be drawn out of 
 the well when needing re- 
 pairs, as the leather pack- 
 ings frequently do. The "grit" in the oil 
 wears them out fast. 
 
 The pump-barrel, with the .standing-box 
 fixed securely in its lower end, was now 
 screwed on a length of two-inch iron tubing; 
 another length on that, and so on, just as 
 described in the operation of putting in the 
 casing. Tubing is very heavy and strong 
 pipe; none but the best "lap-welded" pipe 
 will hold the tremendous pressure of a column 
 of oil six hundred feet high. 
 
 lowerpump box?. 
 
PETROLIA. 
 
 49 
 
 Arthur understood the necessities of this 
 case, as he had learned in philosophy that the 
 pressure of fluids depended not on the quan- 
 tity, but the height of the column. He ex- 
 plained to Fred that a one-inch pipe, ten feet 
 long, full of water, would press 
 just as heavily as a full pipe of 
 the same length ten inches or ten 
 feet in diameter. With all his 
 talk, however, he couldn't make 
 Fred believe it; in fact, he told 
 Arthur that when he said ten 
 inches of water, ten feet high, is 
 as heavy as one inch of water ten 
 feet high, he was " gasing." 
 
 They now had three sizes of 
 pipe in the well, 
 
 i. The drive-pipe (which you' 
 who read the first of these arti- 
 cles, in the March number of OUR 
 BOYS AND GIRLS, will remember 
 was first driven in the earth) six 
 inches in diameter, extending 
 only down to the bed rock, twenty 
 two feet. 2. The casing, with the 
 seed-bag on, four and one half 
 inches in diameter, extending 
 down to the first sand, three hun- 
 dred and thirty feet. 3. The 
 tubing, two inches diameter, to 
 the bottom of the well. The 
 drive-pipe was necessary to save 
 drilling in sinking the well ; the 
 casing, to shut out water; the 
 tubing, to conduct the oil up 
 from the pump to the surface. 
 
 Fred thought he had made a 
 discovery. "If / was doing this 
 job," said he, confidently, "I 
 would not put in so many pipes. 
 I'd just tie the seed-bag on the 
 tubing at the right spot to shut 
 the water in above, and so I'd 
 save the cost of the casing. The 
 tubing can just as well keep out 
 the water as to put down casing 
 a-purpose to do it." 
 
 "Yes, and you'd be just about 
 as smart as we used to be years 
 ago!" answered one of the men. "Put the 
 seed-bag on the tubing, and the first time you 
 had to move the tubing to change the position 
 of the pump, or had to haul it up for repairs, 
 you'd burst the seed-bag, and down goes the 
 water into your well. Then you've got to put 
 on a new seed-bag, and you've made yourself 
 a job of a week or two to get the water out 
 again, besides the damage done to the well 
 4 
 
 every time you flood it. No, young man, 
 casing is a cheap investment, merely to keep 
 the water out." 
 
 The next step was to set the pump going. 
 The upper valve-box is operated in the barrel 
 at the bottom of the well by means of sucker- 
 rods. These are slender hickory or ash poles, 
 
 Sucker rod joints. 
 
 twenty feet long, on the ends of which are 
 riveted irons that screw into each other, thus 
 making a continuous sucker-rod to the bottom 
 of the well. On the lower end the working- 
 box is screwed, and the whole lowered in the 
 tubing until the working-valve is in place in 
 the barrel. 
 
 Fred had been long enough in " Petrolia " 
 to get his wits sharpened, and learn to use his 
 eyes and ears more, and his tongue less, than 
 formerly. It is a great place to teach observa- 
 tion. So Fred decided, without asking any 
 questions, that the sucker-rods were made of 
 wood, instead of iron, to save weight in op- 
 erating the pump. 
 
 To the last sucker-rod there was screwed a 
 round iron rod, which projected out of the top 
 of the tubing. 
 
 " Now for the stuffing' 
 box ! " said the workmen. 
 Fred again thought of tur- 
 key when he heard the word 
 " stuffing." The stuffing- 
 box (instead of a roast tur- 
 key) is an iron that screws 
 on the top of the tubing; 
 has a hole through its top 
 large enough to let the iron 
 rod through ; a space is left 
 in the box, around the rod, to be filled or 
 stuffed tight with cotton or rags to make the 
 joint tight. In one side of the stuffing-box 
 is a spout to let t'he oil out, as it could not 
 rise above the stuffing around the rod. 
 
 The rod was now attached to the working- 
 beam, and they were ready to pump. The 
 other well was also ready, and both com- 
 menced to pump the same day. 
 
 Everybody was no\v anxious to see what re- 
 port the great Flag-and-Windmill Well would 
 make after its long sleep. Would it spout again 
 after the load of water was removed ? Would 
 it yield anything? How much? These were 
 questions in which thousands of dollars for 
 the boys and their uncle were involved. 
 
 The pump from neither well brought up 
 anything but water for ten days. All the crev- 
 
PETROLIA. 
 
 ices and caverns from which so much oil and 
 gas had risen were full of water, and had to 
 be emptied. At the end of ten days oil began 
 once more to come from the pump of the Flag- 
 and-Windmill Well'. This supply increased 
 until the well had worked up to forty barrels 
 a day no more. 
 
 The other well never produced oil in paying 
 quantities. After two weeks' pumping there 
 was a small " show," and at length a yield of 
 five barrels a day. This began to fall off, and 
 in a few days the well was abandoned. Thus 
 the proprietors of it became bankrupt, and the 
 engine and tools were sold by the sheriff. It 
 proved fortunate that uncle Charley had not 
 consented to give them half the yield of the 
 Flag-and Windmill Well. In damaging him 
 so much they had ruined themselves. 
 
 Arthur and Fred pitied them, although they 
 had been the means of the Flag-and- Wind- 
 mill Well losing hundreds of thousands of 
 dollars. As they sat on the bull-wheel shaft 
 of their ruined well, and gloomily contem- 
 plated their buried hopes and fortunes, they 
 were indeed pitiable. 
 
 " What will they do now?" asked Fred, of 
 his uncle. 
 
 "O, they will go to work by the day on 
 some well, and in a year or two they will earn 
 and save up enough to buy an interest in an- 
 other lease, and start in again. Probably the 
 next you hear of them they will be worth half 
 a million apiece. This isn't the first time 
 they've failed, and probably it will not be the 
 last. They don't care half so much about it 
 as they seem to not as much as you do. A 
 * busted greaser ' never stays ' played out ' 
 long." 
 
 The boys were also much disappointed in 
 the yield of their own well since its restora- 
 tion. Forty barrels a day, by the slow and 
 expensive means of pumping, seemed to them 
 small business when they thought of the 
 former self-operating fountain of eight hun- 
 dred barrels' capacity. As usual, anxious to 
 know the cause of everything, they sought 
 from their uncle an explanation of the falling 
 off of the well. 
 
 " What is the reason ?" Arthur asked, " that 
 the well does not do more. What has become 
 of all the oil and gas we once found? Why 
 does water in the well injure it so?" 
 
 For reply, his uncle took him to a tank 
 through which oil and water had been run- 
 ning some time. Part of the oil was thick as 
 mud, and there was a gathering of sticky, wax- 
 like, brownish matter in the tank. He ex- 
 plained. 
 
 " That thick stuff is paraffine. It will form 
 and harden in oil exposed to the action of 
 water or air. When the well is left with water 
 in it this paraffine is separated, settles in the . 
 crevices and openings of the oil veins, and 
 soon putties them up. 
 
 "Besides that, the action of water in a well 
 left idle washes down dirt and small stones, 
 which form a sediment at the bottom of 
 the well, and choke up the seams. Then 
 there is so much salt water in all wells that 
 salt crystallizes on the walls of the well, and 
 helps obstruct the flow of oil. Again, in some 
 wells the water has so much lime or other 
 mineral in it, that a crust forms on the tubing, 
 just as you have seen it on the inside of the 
 tea-kettle. I presume the same crust forms on 
 the sides of the well. 
 
 "All these things help to form permanent 
 obstructions in the well. Besides, in many 
 cases, the same oil veins are tapped by other 
 wells, and while one is lying idle the others 
 may carry off all, or nearly all the oil in that 
 particular basin." 
 
 "Well, uncle," said Fred, "no other well 
 has carried off all our oil, for there is some 
 there yet." 
 
 " Yes, I think there is a good lot of it there 
 yet. I think pnraffine is the principal obstruc- 
 tion in our well." 
 
 " Can't we get it out ? " asked one of the boys. 
 
 "O, yes; paraffine is the easiest of all the 
 obstructions to remove. We will try some 
 benzine on it to-morrow." 
 
 The next day several wagon loads of ben- 
 zine, in barrels, came, and the boys had a 
 chance to see how it operated on paraffine. 
 They took a little of the thickest they could 
 get, and poured some benzine on it. It dis- 
 solved the paraffine in a few moments. 
 
 The tubing was now drawn out of the Flag- 
 and-Windmill Well. This operation required 
 only a few hours. One of the workmen asked 
 Fred where his well would be now if there 
 was no casing in it, and the seed-bag was on 
 the tubing? When the tubing was out, they 
 emptied twenty-four barrels of benzine into 
 the well, filling it partly full. They left it 
 thus a few hours for the benzine to act on the 
 paraffine. 
 
 The boys went frequently to see how the 
 well got along withjthat dose of benzine in it. 
 To their surprise it gradually sunk in the well, 
 until they could not touch benzine with ten 
 sucker- rods screwed together. Fred ran ex- 
 citedly to the shanty, and called out, 
 
 " O, uncle, the well has sprung a leak some- 
 where, and the benzine is all running out I" 
 
PETROLIA. 
 
 53 
 
 How the men laughed ! Uncle Charley ex- 
 plained that the benzine was cutting the par- 
 affine in the oil veins, and by a tremendous 
 pressure of six hundred feet head, was forcing 
 its way into all the crevices. They put in eight 
 barrels more of benzine, and left it to cut and 
 press a whole day. At the end of that time 
 the pump was put down again. 
 
 At first only benzine came. After the bulk 
 of that was out, oil began to come in increased 
 quantities. The benzine ^had worked so well 
 that the yield ran up from forty to seventy 
 barrels a day. They continued to get occa- 
 sionally small quantities of benzine with it, 
 showing how that fluid had forced its way 
 back into the crevices. Chunks of parafime 
 also came up, like clotted oil; some of it was 
 lighter colored, and quite firm. 
 
 This increased yield did not last long. The 
 flow began in a few days to fall off again. So 
 this proved to be only a temporary remedy. 
 The well continued for some time producing 
 what would be considered anywhere else but 
 in " Petrolia " a very large revenue. Although 
 it paid uncle Charley twenty-five to thirty-five 
 dollars each day, above all expenses, he was not 
 satisfied ; and finally declared " that tuppenny 
 business was played out. I'll blow up the well, 
 and make it do more, or nothing." 
 
 "Blow it up!" echoed Arthur; " how will 
 you do that?" 
 
 " FU put a torpedo in it." 
 
 "Torpedoes! Fireworks! O, goody!" ex- 
 claimed Fred, with "enthusiastic applause," 
 as the play-bills say. 
 
 "You won't see much fireworks," said his 
 uncle; "but if you and Arthur will go to 
 Titusville, and tell Mr. Roberts that we want 
 the Flag-and- Windmill Well torpedoed,' we'll 
 see if we can't show you some oil- works." 
 
 They went, and did the business correctly. 
 A man was sent down the next day with the 
 torpedo. The boys, as usual, wide awake to 
 any new thing, very soon found out the machin- 
 ery to explode the well. They discovered first 
 a long tin tube, closed at one end and open at 
 the other, two feet long, and two inches in 
 diameter. This they learned was to be loaded 
 with the explosive material. Then they fished 
 out of a basket a queer iron contrivance. This 
 was the head to the torpedo, to be fitted in 
 after the case was full, and ready to let down 
 in the well. 
 
 Of course Fred had to try it on the case, 
 " to see how it would fit." It didn't fit at all 
 tightly; in fact it hung quite losely in the end 
 of the case. 
 
 "Hallo!" said Fred; "this won't do. 
 
 You've brought the wrong head. It don't fit. 
 and it will let the water in and spoil the pow- 
 der. You have got to go back and get another 
 head." 
 
 The man looked at Fred curiously, and 
 said, "Boy, are you running this torpedo 
 business?" 
 
 Fred got snubbed for talking too fast and 
 too soon. When the man saw how confused 
 Fred looked, he good-naturedly explained to 
 him that they did not use powder, but a sub- 
 stance called nitro-glycerine. It will explode 
 in water, and is thirteen times more powerful 
 than gunpowder. He brought the nitro-gly- 
 cerine with him in a can, and he poured out a 
 little and showed it to the boys. It looked like 
 clear oil or syrup. He told them he should 
 set it off in the well, not by touching a fire to 
 it, as in the case of powder, but by shooting a 
 bullet down into it. He put a few drops on a 
 stone, and dropped another stone on it : it ex- 
 ploded like a small cannon. He told them 
 many stories about nitro-glycerine. Once an 
 engineer at an oil-well stole a can of it, and 
 used it for several days to grease his engine 
 with. One day he set the can on the boiler to 
 warm the oil : he thought it was cold and stiff. 
 In a few minutes it exploded, and killed the 
 man, and blew the engine-house, boiler, and 
 machinery into thousands of pieces. Messrs. 
 Roberts Bros.' nitro-glycerine magazine, near 
 Titusville, exploded one day. The concussion 
 was heard sixty miles away, and people all 
 over that region thought another earthquake 
 was at hand. 
 
 The man now poured the nitro-glycerine 
 into the tin case of the torpedo, and put the 
 head on the case. The head of the torpedo 
 was the hardest to understand. There was a 
 round iron plug three inches long, bored out 
 hollow, like a small cannon which in fact it 
 is. The vent, or nipple, and percusion-cap to 
 shoot it, are in the rear, instead of on one side 
 or on top of this little cannon. The cap 
 and nipple are protected by being in a little 
 round hole or chamber drilled in the iron. 
 This little cannon is suspended, muzzle down- 
 ward by an iron bail or handle; this bail sup- 
 ports both the case and the head when be- 
 ing let down into the well by means of a strong 
 string or wire. The hammer to strike off the 
 cap has a little point on it, small enough to 
 reach down into the chamber in which the cap 
 is set, and strike the cap. There is a hole in 
 the hammer, through which the bail of the 
 torpedo passes. This lets the hammer rise 
 above the bail. The string that suspends the 
 torpedo is tied to the bail, and passes through 
 
54 
 
 PETROLIA. 
 
 a small hole in the upper part of the hammer. 
 Now when a weight is sent down on the string, 
 it will strike the hammer before it does the 
 bail. In order to keep water out of the cham- 
 ber in which the cap is, a rubber band or col- 
 lar is slipped over the joint between the 
 chamber and the hammer; this keeps out the 
 water, but is elastic enough to let the hammer 
 drop down against the cap when the weight 
 comes down on top of it (the hammer). 
 
 The cannon or plug was loaded with gun- 
 powder and a ball of lead, the 
 cap put on, and the rubber band 
 slipped over the joint. The man 
 then fixed the head into the 
 case by two little screws. It 
 was all ready, and he began to 
 let it down slowly into the well 
 by a coil of cord. 
 
 When enough cord had been 
 paid out to sink the torpedo to 
 a point opposite the oil crevi- 
 ces, the messenger to discharge 
 it was slipped on the line. This 
 is a tin tube eight inches long, 
 with a ball of lead on one end. 
 The ball alone would vibrate, 
 and bound from side to side, 
 and break the string. The tin 
 tube served as a tail or guide 
 to it, to keep it steady. Fred 
 understood the effect of this by 
 his experience with darts and 
 arrows. He also compared the 
 weight to the "messengers" 
 he used to send up on the line 
 to his kite. 
 
 All was now ready, and the 
 little messenger was started 
 down the line through six hun- 
 dred feet of water, to discharge 
 the magazine. The people 
 around the well expected a 
 great eruption, and stood back 
 a respectful distance. The only 
 occurrence was a suppressed, 
 Torpedo Head. dull report) and a i itt ie agita- 
 tion in the well. 
 
 " Why don't it blow the water out?" asked 
 the astonished and disappointed boys. 
 
 "Water is just as good wadding as paper, 
 if you get enough of it on top the load. It 
 would take a bigger torpedo than ever was 
 made yet to start that column of water up," 
 said uncle Charley. 
 
 The torpedo agent added, " We have to 
 strengthen the case of the torpedo with steel 
 ribs all around the inside, else the pressure 
 would collapse it." 
 
 While this talK. was going on, Arthur stood 
 gazing intently down the well. Suddenly he 
 exclaimed, 
 
 " Well, the water is blowed up, and ifs com- 
 ing up now! " And with these words he start- 
 ed on a run out of the derrick, pale with fright, 
 as if he thought torpedo, water, oil, gas, well, 
 and all were after him. 
 
 At the same instant all the rest started 
 towards the well to see what had frightened 
 Arthur. Before they got to the well they 
 were showered with water and oil. 
 
 The Flag-and-Windmill Well had begun to 
 spout again ! 
 
PETROLIA. 
 
 55 
 
 PART V. 
 
 MARKETING OIL. A FIERY 
 FRESHET. 
 
 THE sudden jump of the Flag-and- Wind- 
 mill Well from forty barrels up to two 
 hundred, when " torpedoed," lifted uncle 
 Charley, Arthur, and Fred on the top wave 
 of fortune again, as their oil-boats had been 
 lifted and carried away on pond freshets in 
 former days. Owing to the better regulated 
 systems of doing business, a two-hundred bar- 
 rel well now was as profitable as an eight- 
 hundred barrel well was at the time the Flag- 
 and- Windmill Well was first struck. They had 
 not now to pay so large a portion of their 
 earnings for hauling the oil by teams ; it was 
 all transported by other means. Also, the 
 market was more settled, and paid more 
 profitable figures. They never had any fears 
 now of oil going down to ten cents a barrel, as 
 was the case once, when so many big spouting 
 wells were struck. The "flooding" of the 
 market at that time, while it made oil almost 
 worthless, and ruined many individuals, had 
 a good effect, viz., it made oil so cheap that 
 it came rapidly into use all over the civilized 
 world, taking the place of all other illumina- 
 tors. Thus a permanent demand for petro- 
 leum was created, which the owners of wells 
 afterwards got the good of, in a steady, cer- 
 tain market. 
 
 Another reason why uncle Charley and the 
 boys did better with a smaller well was, be- 
 cause they were not at the expense of buying 
 barrels; they sold all their oil in bulk. This 
 expense, which was once many times the 
 value of the oil contained in the barrels, they 
 now saved for their pockets. 
 
 When the large supply of oil recommenced, 
 Arthur began to look about for the storage for 
 it. He discovered, for the first time, that 
 during their absence in Massachusetts uncle 
 Charley had sold all but two of their tanks. 
 Visions of another wasteful scene, like that 
 when the Flag-and-Windmill Well was first 
 struck, came in his mind. In consternation 
 he ran to his uncle with 
 
 " Why, uncle, what has become of all the 
 tanks ? Where shall we put the oil ? " 
 
 " O, there's tankage enough, I guess ! 
 When our tanks get full we'll pipe it 1 " an- 
 swered he, coolly. 
 
 " Pipe it ! Pipe it ! " said the boys. " What's 
 that!" 
 
 They soon discovered a pipe had been 
 
 laid from their tanks to a large iron tank a 
 few rods below. When their tanks were full, 
 uncle Charley told the boys to go down to a 
 little building near the big tank, and tell the 
 agent of the Pipe Line, that the Flag-and- 
 Windmill Well wanted to deliver some oil. 
 
 They went. On the building was a little 
 sign, which read 
 
 BLOWALL PIPE LINE CO. 
 STATION No. 9. 
 
 They found the agent inside, and did their 
 errand. He said " they could turn on in 
 about twenty minutes; if they would wait 
 he'd tell them when he was ready." 
 
 They waited. In a few minutes he went 
 out to the big tank. The boys, of course, 
 followed, and all three climbed up a ladder to 
 the top of the tank. It was covered over, 
 except a hole about two feet square, to which 
 a trap door was fitted, like all the rest of the 
 work, of iron. The top was covered over with 
 sods, on which green grass and flowers were 
 growing. 
 
 "Well," exclaimed Fred, "I should think 
 this was one of the hanging gardens we read 
 about ! What makes you let this tank all grow 
 up to grass so ? " 
 
 " We sodded it over to keep the sun off; the 
 heat of the sun sometimes sets gas and oil on 
 fire, and explodes a tank." 
 
 " How large is this tank? how much does it 
 hold ? " asked Fred. 
 
 "It is eighteen feet high, forty-five feet 
 across, and holds about five thousand bar- 
 rels," answered the agent. 
 
 " Then there are about two thousand five 
 hundred barrels of oil in it now. It's about 
 half full, I should think," said Arthur, peering 
 down into the tank. 
 
 " We won't guess at it, I reckon," said the 
 agent, smiling. He then took a long pole, on 
 which feet, inches, and quarters of inches were 
 marked, and set it down to the bottom of the 
 tank. Pulling it up again he looked at the 
 mark of the oil on the pole, and found the 
 de,pth of the oil to be eight feet three and one- 
 fourth inches. Putting this measurement down 
 in a little book, he said, " Now you may turn 
 in your oil." 
 
 " But aren't you going to empty the tank 
 first? We don't want our oil to go in with any- 
 body else's oil, I guess," said the excitable 
 Fred. 
 
 "It won't make any difference if it does 
 mix. Your oil isn't any heavier than the pro- 
 duction of other wells here. It makes no dif- 
 
PETROLIA. 
 
 ference to you, fo long as you get back all the 
 oil you put in, does it?" said the agent. "I 
 know how many barrels there are in the tank 
 now, and I will measure again, after your oil 
 is in, and then we'll know how much you 
 have run in." 
 
 " How can you tell by the feet and inches 
 how many barrels there are ? " asked Arthur. 
 
 "Go and tell your uncle to turn in the oil, 
 and then come back to the office, and I'll show 
 you," replied the agent. 
 
 They did so. In the office the agent showed 
 them a paper, all covered with figures ; it was 
 framed, and hung up. He explained, 
 
 "This is a gauge-table. This column of 
 red figures shows the depth of the tank, by 
 quarters of an inch. And this column of black 
 figures opposite shows the quantity of oil for 
 each measurement." 
 
 Arthur looked on the gauge-table for the 
 depth the agent had entered on his book. He 
 read it off thus : 
 
 8 f. 3 1-4 in. . . . 98,398 gals. 
 
 "Now," said the agent, "divide that by 
 forty-three, and see how many barrels there 
 are in the tank." 
 
 Arthur quickly announced the result to be 
 two thousand two hundred and eighty-eight 
 barrels and fourteen gallons over. 
 
 "You see," said the agent, "your guess 
 of twenty-five hundred barrels was too high : 
 it would have lost you about two hundred and 
 twelve barrels of oil." 
 
 Presently the oil had ceased running in 
 from the Flag-and- Windmill Well's tanks, and 
 they went out and took another measurement. 
 It was twelve feet eight inches. Looking on 
 the gauge-table, they read again, 
 
 1 2 f. Sin. . . . 150,695 gals. 
 
 "Now subtract your other number from 
 that, and you will know how much oil you 
 have delivered," said the agent. Both the 
 boys "worked the example," and found the 
 difference between the two quantities measured 
 to be fifty- two thousand two hundred and 
 ninety-seven gallons. They divided this by 
 forty-three, and learned they had one thou- 
 sand two hundred and sixteen barrels of oil 
 to pipe. 
 
 This amount the agent put down to the 
 credit of the Flag-and-Windmill Well. He 
 also entered it on a little deposit book, which 
 he gave to them, just like a bank depositor's 
 book, only he entered barrels and gallons of 
 oil in it instead of dollars and cents. 
 
 " There," said he, when it was done, " now 
 
 you can check out your oil any time you 
 please." 
 
 " Will we get the oil here f " asked the boys. 
 
 "No; at the railroad station." 
 
 " Why," said Fred, " that's four miles from 
 here. How will you get the oil over there?" 
 
 " Come in here and I will show you," he 
 answered. 
 
 He took them into an engine house, where 
 there was a boiler attached to a machine, that 
 looked like an engine, with a tall, hollow air- 
 chamber. 
 
 "Halloo!" cried Fred. "See this funny 
 engine, with a balloon on it!" 
 
 "That's not an engine," said the agent, 
 " it is a force-pump. It forces the oil through 
 four miles of pipe, to the company's tanks on 
 the railroad. It runs by steam, and has force 
 enough to carry the oil over hills that dis- 
 tance. Your oil will all be over the mountain 
 in a short time ; but you can check out, and 
 sell it now if you want to. There is plenty 
 of oil in the company's tank to draw from." 
 
 The next day uncle Charlie told the boys 
 they might go to Oil City, and sell five hun- 
 dred barrels of oil he had such confidence in 
 their business capacity and trustworthiness. 
 He told them to get from the agent of the 
 Pipe Line a "certified check" for so much 
 oil, and sell it for the best price they could 
 get. Arthur went to the office, and told the 
 agent he wanted to call five hundred barrels 
 of oil. 
 
 * ' To whose order shall I draw it ? " asked he. 
 
 "I don't know. It is not sold yet," replied 
 Arthur. 
 
 "Very well. I'll leave it blank." He then 
 filled out a printed order, to read like this : - - 
 
 Barrels, 500. 
 
 BLOWALL PIPE LINE, 
 Deliver to or order, Five 
 
 Hundred Bbls. Crude Petroleum, of 43 galls, 
 each, and charge to account of Flag-and- 
 Windmill Well. 
 
 Collect 25 cts. pipeage. 
 
 CHAS. ARTHUR & FRED SEARS. 
 
 A line in fine type at the top of this blank, 
 said, "This order is not good until accepted 
 by agent of station at which the oil is re- 
 ceived." Accordingly the agent wrote his 
 "acceptance" across the face of the order, in 
 red ink, in these words : 
 
 "ACCEPTED at owners' risk for any loss 
 by Fire, Leakage, Evaporation, or Bursting of 
 Tanks. 
 
 "JOHN WARD WELL, 
 " Agent for Blowall Pipe Line." 
 
PETROLIA. 
 
 59 
 
 The "pipeage ' is the charge of twenty-five 
 cents a barrel' for transporting the oil through 
 the pipe. 
 
 This certified order was all the boys needed 
 to sell their oil with. It was as good as if 
 they took the oil with them on wagons or 
 cars. The little slip of paper was good for 
 five hundred barrels of oil anywhere. They 
 went to Oil City, where large sales of oil were 
 made daily, and where large numbers of re- 
 finers, agents for foreign dealers, agents for 
 refineries in different parts of the country, 
 speculators, oil-brokers, &c., met well-owners 
 and sellers of oil. Hundreds of thousands of 
 dollars' worth here exchanged hands daily. 
 
 Arthur mixed up with the throng, and lis- 
 tened to the prices asked and paid for crude. 
 Much of the talk he could not understand, as 
 he was not acquainted with the terms used. 
 He understood enough to satisfy himself what 
 he should ask for his oil. 
 
 As they were pushing their way into an ex- 
 cited knot of dealers, one of the men said, im- 
 patiently, ''Boys, stand back! Go 'way! 
 What do you want here? This is no place for 
 boys." 
 
 " I want to sell some oil," said Arthur. 
 
 ' ' O, you do ! What you got ? " 
 
 " Five hundred barrels crude, at the deliv- 
 ering tank of the Blowall Pipe Line." 
 
 "Give you $3.26." 
 
 "Guess not," said Arthur; "I just heard 
 offers as high as $4.10." 
 
 The man found he could not cheat Arthur, 
 and so moved away. Three or four dealers, 
 attracted by the novel sight of the boys doing 
 business there, had gathered around. In a few 
 minutes Arthur sold his oil to one of these 
 men for $4.25. He first deducted two barrels 
 for each hundred, which the Pipe Line re- 
 tained to make itself good for leakage. This 
 left him four hundred and ninety barrels to 
 sell. This, at $4.25 per barrel, came to 
 $2,082.50, as Arthur figured it up. The pur- 
 chaser reckoned it, and at first made a mistake 
 of over one hundred dollars. 
 
 He said, "I guess you've made a mistake, 
 young man." 
 
 " Maybe I have; I'll work it again," replied 
 Arthur. 
 
 Fred, meantime, picked up the paper the 
 man had been figuring upon, and reviewed 
 his work. In a minute he said, respectfully, 
 
 "Mister, haven't you made a mistake?" 
 And he pointed out the error. 
 
 The man looked at it a minute, and then, 
 with 'much confusion at being caught in a 
 blunder by a boy, said, 
 
 "Yes, yes r I presume your figures are all 
 right." 
 
 " I am sure they are," said Arthur, who had 
 by this time been over them twice. "Two 
 thousand and eighty-two fifty is correct." 
 " How much is your pipeage ? " asked the man. 
 
 "Twenty-five cents per barrel," said Arthur. 
 
 "Well, take that out. How much does it 
 amount to?" asked the man. 
 
 Arthur quickly found that the tankage would 
 be one hundred and twenty-two dollars and 
 fifty cents. Subtracting this amount from the 
 first one, Arthur found the balance to be one 
 thousand nine hundred and sixty dollars. 
 For this sum the purchaser gave them a check 
 on an Oil City bank. They took the check to 
 the bank, and asked the cashier to give them 
 a certificate of deposit for the money, which 
 he did. This certificate of deposit they could 
 sell precisely as they had sold the accepted or- 
 der for oil. 
 
 When the man paid them for the oil, he took 
 out two five dollar bills and gave one to each 
 of the boys, saying, "You just keep mum 
 about that mistake of mine I " The boys said 
 they would keep still about it, if he wanted 
 them to, without the money, and tried to make 
 him take it back. He said, "O, that's all 
 right; keep it. If you don't want it, send it 
 home to your sisters, if you've got any, to 
 buy dolls with." And so he left them. Fred 
 said, 
 
 " Well, he's a funny man. Good one, too." 
 
 "I guess he's got some girls and boys of 
 his own at home," said Arthur. 
 
 When the boys got back, uncle Charley 
 praised them for managing the business so 
 well, and told them they might market all the 
 oil thereafter. So, as often as five hundred 
 barrels of oil accumulated, and the market 
 was up to a good paying price, the boys made 
 a sale of it. -They soon became as well known 
 " on change," as any of the old oil men. They 
 were prompt, accurate, bright, and civil, and 
 at the same time fresh and boy-like, so that 
 everybody liked to see them, and deal with 
 them. Fred's theory was a good one; most 
 of the men had families and children at home, 
 far away, and liked to be reminded of them by 
 the presence of a couple of good, bright boys. 
 The boys found ready, good-natured answers 
 to their numerous questions, and so they soon 
 became well posted regarding everything con- 
 nected with the business. 
 
 One day a famous oil-broker, who had taken 
 quite a fancy to them, said, 
 
 " Boys, oil is going up soon. Why don't 
 you hold yours for a rise?" 
 
6o 
 
 PETROLIA. 
 
 THE SHIPPING-RANGE. 
 
 " Uncle doesn't think it is going up, and he 
 says sell," answered Arthur. 
 
 "Your uncle isn't posted. I'll tell you what 
 you do. Let your uncle sell his share, if he 
 wants to, and you store j'our share sixty days, 
 and see who comes out ahead." 
 
 The boys thought the matter over, and final- 
 ly concluded to hold part of their oil, as the 
 broker advised. So they hired tankage, and 
 had five hundred barrels of their share stored. 
 Uncle Charley told, them they would lose by 
 not selling; but they were determined to try 
 it on one lot. Arthur said, 
 
 "The price is low now. Everybody says it 
 can't go much lower. If we see it decline fast, 
 we can sell that much any day, and not lose 
 much. It will not break us if we do lose 
 something on this lot, and we may make." 
 
 The result proved that the oil-broker was a 
 better judge of the market prospects than un- 
 cle Charley. In less 'than a month oil began 
 to advance. In a short time it rose three dol- 
 lars on a barrel, and the boys sold. They 
 cleared on that lot one thousand five hundred 
 dollars more than they would if they had 
 sold, and that much more than uncle Charley 
 had made by selling before the rise. The fact 
 was, a few large dealers were managing mat- 
 ters so as to force the market up, and Arthur 
 and Fred had been let into the secret. 
 
 This same "ring" of speculators cleared a 
 
 million and a half of dollars by the same rise 
 on oil they held. Only Arthur learned they 
 did not buy or own the oil they had made 
 their money on at all. They only took "op- 
 tions " on it, and then, when it went up, 
 sold it for the latest price, and paid the 
 real owners the old, low price. This is what 
 they call "bulling" the market as if they 
 had put horns under the price of oil, and 
 raised it. When, by the same means, the price 
 of oil was forced down, they called it "bear- 
 ing" the market as if they had reached 
 sharp claws up and pulled the price down. 
 
 One day the proprietor of a big oil refinery 
 at Cleveland, Ohio, who had got acquainted 
 with the boys, and had visited them at the 
 Flag-and-Windmill Well, telegraphed them as 
 follows : 
 
 "To Arthur and Fred, 
 
 " Flag-and-Windmill Well : 
 " Ship me eight hundred bbls. crude, and 
 draw for amt., at current price this day.' 
 
 "Wm. Winsor." 
 
 As they did not have quite so much oil on 
 hand as this order called for, they had to buy 
 some to make up the amount. Arthur pro- 
 posed to go to Oil City and buy it; but his 
 uncle said they could buy it a little under the 
 market at some of the wells near by. Oil be- 
 ing now on the decline, with a prospect of its 
 
PETROLIA. 
 
 61 
 
 "Now, LET'S SMOTHER IT!" CRIED UNCLE CHARLEY. 
 
 going still lower in price, owners of small 
 lots would be anxious to sell, and would take 
 less than current market rates, in anticipation 
 of getting even less if they held it. The 
 boys soon picked up enough, here and there, 
 to fill the order, and got the most of it at 
 prices from ten to thirty cents below the 
 market. That much was profit. 
 
 They had it all piped to the railroad. They 
 then went to the office of the Oil Car Trans- 
 portation Co., and engaged cars to take eight 
 hundred barrels of oil to Cleveland. The 
 cars they engaged were called tank-cars. A 
 tank-car is a common flat car, with two wood- 
 en tanks set upon it. Each of these tubs 
 holds forty barrels, making each car carry 
 eighty barrels of oil in bulk. Thus the cost 
 of barrels is saved. It took ten cars to carry 
 the oil to Cleveland. 
 
 The Blowall Pipe Company's delivering 
 tank held twenty thousand barrels of oil when 
 full. It was located as near the railroad track 
 as it could be safe from the fire of passing 
 trains, and elevated on a bank higher than 
 the track. A large iron pipe from the tank is 
 laid on a platform ten feet high, by the side 
 of the track, for several rods. To this pipe 
 are attached long-nosed spouts, at such places 
 
 as will bring a spout opposite each tank on a 
 train of oil cars. Each spout has a stop-cock, 
 which is turned by a wrench, to let out the oil. 
 This platform, with its pipes, spouts, &c., is 
 called a shipping-range. 
 
 Arthur directed the oil train to haul up be- 
 side the shipping-range. The covers to the 
 holes in the tops of the car-tanks were un- 
 screwed and taken off. The spouts, which 
 were attached to "goose-necks," and could be 
 turned any way, were placed in the tanks. 
 Arthur and Fred now went through on the 
 platform, and turned all the stop-cocks, and 
 the oil ran furiously into all the twenty tanks 
 at once the big reservoir of oil on the bank 
 above forcing it through with a great pres- 
 sure. In a very few minutes the tanks were 
 all full. The stop-cocks were turned, the 
 spouts taken up, swung around on the plat- 
 form, and laid down alongside of the main 
 pipe. The Transportation Company then 
 gave Arthur a shipping bill or receipt for the 
 oil, stating how much oil had been delivered 
 on the cars, to whom, where, and for what price 
 it was to be carried. This bill he sent by mail to 
 Mr. Winsor, at Cleveland. He then went to the 
 bank, and drew a draft on Mr. Winsor for the 
 amount of the eight hundred barrels of oil. 
 
62 
 
 PETROLIA. 
 
 While the boys were at Titusville, on this 
 business, a despatch came over the wires, say- 
 ing that a great fire was raging on the Run, 
 on which the Flag-and- Windmill Well was 
 situated. They took the first train back. 
 
 Long before they reached the spot, they saw 
 the smoke and glare of an immense conflagra- 
 tion. As they neared the spot, they saw the 
 grandest, but most terrible sight they had 
 ever seen or imagined. 
 
 No one knew how the fire commenced. The 
 first warning was an explosion, and a sheet 
 of flame from a small tank, a few rods above 
 the Flag-and- Windmill Well. The fire spread 
 rapidly after being once started. On the gas 
 that filled the air, the flames leaped from well 
 to well, and from tank to tank. Each well 
 became a burning one. The flames wreathed 
 and twined up the tall derricks, which, being 
 dry, and saturated with oil, burned with won- 
 derful fury and brilliancy; on these ladders 
 the fire climbed, and from the tops soared far 
 up into the air. The exploded tanks covered 
 the ground with oil, and this soon formed a 
 burning river, which flowed down the moun- 
 tain, destroying all before it. 
 
 The Flag-and-Windmill Well had been 
 reached by the fiery flood before the boys got 
 there; they were just in time to get a glimpse 
 of the flag at the top of the derrick, before it 
 fell. Everything else was covered and con- 
 cealed in a dense, black smoke and flames. 
 The volume and blackness of the smoke was 
 wonderful ; it made such a contrast and back- 
 ground to the flames, that belched out from 
 the midst of it, that they resembled flashes and 
 streaks of lightning in the blackness of night. 
 It seemed as if the flame was wrapped and 
 smothered in a black swathing, from which it 
 was constantly struggling, with fierce roars, 
 to escape, and only succeeding partially. In 
 this contest between smoke and flame, it 
 rose two or three hundred feet in the air, 
 pitching and writhing like monstrous birds in 
 warfare. This sight, so utterly beyond de- 
 scription, and disastrous as it was, held Ar- 
 thur and Fred spellbound with awe and admi- 
 ration. All they had ever seen, read, or ima- 
 gined did not equal it. One man, who had 
 seen a grand volcanic eruption, and passed 
 through a great earthquake, said this was a 
 more wonderful sight than the former, and 
 a more wonderful scene than the latter. The 
 heat of ten thousand barrels of burning oil, 
 with the gas of a dozen wells, and the wood- 
 work of tanks, engine-houses, derricks, build- 
 ings, &c., thrown in for kindlings, drove ev- 
 erybody ha/fa mile back. 
 
 Of course, nothing could be done, to extin- 
 guish such a maelstrom of fire as this. When 
 it came to a tank, or a little pond of water, the 
 conflagration was only more terrific; the con- 
 test between the two elements added new and 
 more terrible fury to the flame. All the fire 
 engines in the world, playing on this fire, would 
 not have stopped it. Water never can put out 
 an oil fire. The only thing to do is, to confine 
 it and let it burn itself out. 
 
 The fire was rapidly making its way down 
 the hill, finding new material, and increasing 
 its volume constantly. In its course, on the 
 river bank, lay a town, and numerous big 
 tanks of oil. If it reached there, it would de- 
 stroy all this, and get volume enough to pour 
 out on the river, and cover its surface with a 
 sheet of flame, to roll down and destroy all 
 below. No one could tell where the destruc- 
 tion of property, and perhaps life, would end, 
 if the burning stream flowed on. Worst of all, 
 no one seemed to know what to do; hundreds 
 of men stood, as if paralyzed, by the horrors 
 of the conflagration. 
 
 At this crisis, uncle Charley called all the 
 men to follow him. He led them down the 
 Run, below the fire, and began to throw up a 
 dam, to stop the burning oil. This effort, at 
 first, did not succeed. The fiery freshet 
 reached them before they had got their work 
 done, and drove them off. It filled the dam 
 with a seething, roaring flood of flame, and 
 presently poured over in a grand cascade of 
 fire, and resumed its way to the river. 
 
 The men now went farther down, and se- 
 lecting a spot between two high ledges of 
 rocks, began to throw up another dam. The 
 location was favorable, the time to work in 
 longer, and as many fresh men were arriving 
 every minute, there was more help, so they 
 did much better execution. The spot was 
 covered with men like bees in a hive, and as 
 all were stalwart, hard-working men, mostly 
 young, who were now fighting destruction oft" 
 their own property, they did wonders. Before 
 the burning stream had reached the spot the 
 dam was done. 
 
 " Now," cried uncle Charley, "come up here, 
 men, with your shovels! " They all followed 
 him up to the top of the high banks of their 
 impromptu dam. Here he had them collect 
 piles of loose earth on the brow of the bank. 
 
 "What is this for?" asked several/ 
 
 ' Wait and see," said their self-elected leadet. 
 
 In a few moments the first waves of oil and 
 fire began to pour down the gulch into the dam. 
 
 "Now let's smother it!" shouted uncle 
 Charley. 
 
" Hurrah!" cried the men, when they un- 
 ierstood the plan; "let's smother it !" And 
 hundreds of shovels sent the damp, heavy 
 earth down over the burning caldron. 
 
 This had more effect than any quantity of 
 water could. It deadened the flame somewhat. 
 The dam retained the stream until the fire 
 burned itself out, sufficiently so that the fresh 
 avalanches of dirt sent down finally covered 
 and smothered it. 
 
 In this fire, twenty-eight wells and their rigs 
 and tanks, and fifty thousand barrels of oil, 
 were destroyed. 
 
 The Flag-and- Windmill Well was now ru- 
 ined again. Its production had been steadily 
 reducing, until, at the time of the fire, it was 
 not paying largely. The fire finished it, and 
 it was never restored. 
 
 Although the boys and their uncle lost a 
 large amount in the fire, they had, on the 
 whole, cleared enough money, so that each 
 of the boys had $9,500 of his own. 
 
 PART VI. 
 
 PROSPECTING FOR TERRITORY. 
 FINDING "THE BELT." 
 
 WITH the burning of the Flag-and-Wind- 
 mill Well, uncle Charley, and Arthur, 
 and Fred went out of the oil business in that 
 locality. They sold their lease and went to 
 search for other oil territory. They had be- 
 come such confirmed " greasers," the boys, 
 as well as their uncle, that they were less 
 ready than ever before to quit the business. 
 The excitement of seeking greasy wealth, 
 through all risks and obstacles, had become a 
 necessity to them. 
 
 Several weeks were spent in looking for ter- 
 ritory that promised to afford paying wells. 
 In those places where the best wells had been 
 found, the land had all been snatched up by 
 sharp and early speculators. These men held 
 their leases so high, demanding so large a 
 royalty for their shares, sometimes reserving 
 as nigh as three fourths of all the oil found, 
 that the boys did not care to invest and take 
 so many chances to get so little oil at last. 
 On the other hand, where they could get fa- 
 vorable leases, the territory was not prom- 
 ising. 
 
 One day, in their prospecting for territory, 
 they met a man who offered to tell them ex- 
 actly where they conld find a good well, by 
 boring, if they would pay him five hundred dol- 
 lars for the information. 
 
 PETROLIA. 63 
 
 "And how do you propose to get this infor- 
 mation?" asked uncle Charley. 
 
 ^ By the direction of the spirits," answered 
 the man. 
 
 " Well," said uncle Charley, " if you think 
 that is a pretty certain way to locate paying 
 wells, why don't you go into it for yourself? 
 If you'H take a half interest and pay half the 
 expense, we'll put down a well as you, or the 
 spirits, direct." This the man declined to do. 
 
 At another time they came across another 
 kind of " oil-smeller," as they are called. He 
 took a forked stick, cut from a hazel-bush, 
 and holding the two ends of the fork in his 
 hands, with the joined end of the twig up- 
 ward, he walked slowly over the land where 
 it was supposed oil might be found. At cer- 
 tain points the twig bent slowly downward, 
 from an upright position, until, without hav- 
 ing turned the ends in the man's hands, it 
 pointed straight towards the earth. He 
 claimed he had nothing to do with its point- 
 ing down, and, in fact, that he was not able 
 to stop its turning. In proof of this, he 
 showed that the bark had been twisted and 
 loosened where he held it in his hands. 
 
 This mystified the boys very much. They 
 asked their uncle what made the twig turn 
 down. 
 
 "The man says it is the oil in the ground 
 that attracts it, and pulls it over, as the north 
 pole does the needle of the compass." 
 
 "But does it? Is it oil?" asked the incred- 
 ulous boys. 
 
 " Well," said their uncle, cautiously, " I 
 never heard of hazel-twigs pointing out any 
 rich territory. It is called witch-hazel, be- 
 cause people have supposed it had some super- 
 natural powers, like a witch. But I have seen 
 twigs from the peach and other trees act the 
 same way. So I guess there is about as much 
 witch in one tree as in another, and none in 
 any of them, if foolish men let them alone 
 / don't go a cent on territory located by su- 
 pernatural, means. There are those who do, 
 however, and they sometimes get paying wells, 
 though not any more frequently, or any more 
 surely, than where wells are located entirely 
 by wild-catting." 
 
 " What is wild-catting?" asked Fred. 
 
 " What we are at. We are ' wild-cats,' 
 prowling around the country, seeking to de- 
 vour a good show," answered the uncle. 
 
 While this conversation was going on, the 
 party had been sitting on a ledge of rocks 
 overlooking a wild and romantic scene. The 
 Alleghany River ran far below them, and&hey 
 could trace its winding course for many miles. 
 
PETROLIA. 
 
 Its white strip tnrough the dark landscape of 
 mountain and forest looked like a silver band 
 on a velvet cloak, Fred said. Here and there 
 the dark background was also speckled with 
 white, where the steam of an engine showed 
 a live oil well. On the other side was a wild 
 ravine, down which a small stream fretted and 
 roared. While uncle Charley and Fred were 
 enjoying the scenery and commenting on it, 
 Arthur was differently engaged. He was 
 looking about him, but with a purpose in 
 view. He became so interested in what he 
 was investigating, that he left the part}', and, 
 going up to the top of the hill, climbed a tree. 
 
 "What are you after?" at length cried his 
 uncle; "have you treed a coon? I should 
 think you were * wild-catting ' in earnest." 
 t " I am," said Arthur. 
 
 Presently he came down from the tree, and 
 told them what he had discovered. He said 
 that he had noticed that the point where they 
 sat down was on a line between the producing 
 territory on the river and that on the creek. 
 By climbing the tree he had discovered, still 
 further, that the puffs of steam from engine- 
 houses, which indicated operating wells, were 
 Almost all in a line, sighting from the tree, 
 both on the river and on the creek, six miles 
 apart. Off that line there were many derricks, 
 but no life; they were dry wells; engines and 
 working beams were motionless. "Now, 
 what does that mean?" thought Arthur. 
 
 " It means that those wells that are produ- 
 cing are on an oil-belt, as it is called. There 
 may be two belts, one on the river and one on 
 the creek. If both developments are on the 
 same belt, and we are on the direct line be- 
 tween them, I shouldn't wonder if the belt 
 runs right through under this spot." 
 
 Uncle Charley grew excited as he rapidly 
 told this theory off to the boys. He was 
 walking quickly towards the tree from which 
 Arthur had descended, talking and gesticulat- 
 ing, as he went. He climbed the tree, and 
 looked long and carefully over .the many 
 miles of territory spread out before him. In 
 all that vast area the producing wells lay in 
 one line, as Arthur had described. While 
 there were hundreds of derricks in sight, the 
 derricks of the live wells were in a line that 
 he could look across almost as he could along 
 a row of shade trees. 
 
 " I declare, boys ! " cried he, excitedly, from 
 his high lookout, "I believe we've struck a 
 big thing. I believe we're on the same belt." 
 
 " How are we going to find out for certain ? " 
 asked Fred, when his uncle had descended. 
 
 " That's the question now before the meet- 
 
 ing," replied uncle Charley. "If the wells 
 over the other side of the river and these up 
 here on the creek are alike in depth, and ap- 
 pearance of oil, and of the rocks bored through, 
 I should be inclined to think they are all on 
 one belt. And, of course, if they are, all this 
 territory, for six miles on the direct line be- 
 tween them, is on that belt also, and will be 
 good territory, though no one suspects it now." 
 
 "Then we can lease this territory cheaply, 
 if we want to, I suppose," said Arthur. 
 
 4 Yes ; or buy it out almost at our own fig- 
 ures. These 'Bsickwheats' don't know any- 
 thing about its value," said his uncle. 
 
 "Buckwheats!" said the boys; "what are 
 they ? " 
 
 "Ah," said his uncle, laughing, "that's a 
 slang name some people give to the farmers 
 and residents in the woods here. Their land 
 is so poor it won't raise much but buckwheat; 
 so the people live on it so much, they get that 
 name." Uncle Charley acted as if rather 
 ashamed of having used it, 
 
 "We are Buckwheats, then," said Fred. 
 " Our land at home is as poor as this, and we 
 eat lots of buckwheat; and I like it, too. And 
 I don't care if you call me a Buckwheat." 
 
 They now arranged that Arthur should go 
 up the creek, where the wells were pumping, 
 and uncle Charley go over the river, and each 
 find out all he could about the wells there. 
 Then they were to meet and compare notes, 
 and see if the wells in the two localities re- 
 sembled each other. 
 
 They went. By questioning the owners and 
 drillers of the different wells they learned 
 what those men knew. In nearly all the 
 shanties, or in the engine-houses adjoining 
 the wells, or else in the offices of the owners 
 of the wells, were preserved specimens of the 
 different kinds of rocks found in each well. 
 They asked for little specimens of these to 
 compare with similar ones from all the other 
 wells. 
 
 When they had collected all these facts and 
 specimens they brought them together. It 
 turned out as uncle Charley had suspected : 
 these wells, six miles apart, separated by a 
 mountain, were almost exactly alike. There- 
 fore they concluded that they could find good 
 wells all along the line, or belt, six miles be- 
 tween these developments. 
 
 They were so well satisfied of it that they 
 determined to put down a well. So they went 
 to the house of the man who owned the farm 
 they wanted to lease. It was an old log- 
 house. The spaces between the logs were 
 filled with sticks and mud. The timbers of 
 
PETROLIA. 
 
 PROSPECTING. 
 
 the roof projected several feet from the side 
 of the house, and were loosely covered with 
 slabs to make a "veranda" in front of the 
 house. The hinges and latch of the one door 
 to the house were wood. Numerous hats and 
 garments were stuffed in the broken panes of 
 the small windows. They stepped on the 
 loose boards that formed the floor of the ve- 
 randa, and knocked. A gruff voice from 
 within pronounced the single word, 
 
 " Walk!" 
 
 Not understanding this remark, and in un- 
 certainty as to the first knock having been 
 heard, they tapped louder on the door. 
 
 " WALK! " this time louder and gruffer than 
 before. 
 
 They opened the door and entered. The 
 owner of the farm was eating his dinner. His 
 wife and two boys had apparently dined be- 
 fore; for he was seated alone at the table. 
 The single room below was roughly finished 
 and furnished. A fireplace in one end, and a 
 ladder in the other, where the boys went up 
 to bed through a hole in the loose floor above, 
 attracted the visitors' attention. 
 
 The meal spread before the farmer consisted 
 of one dish. That was fat pork swimming in 
 its own grease. There was no bread, butter, 
 5 
 
 potatoes nothing but that one dish. The 
 farmer scraped the entire contents of the dish 
 on his plate, and ate it. 
 
 He was a thin, dark-complexioned, un- 
 combed, elderly man. His boots were not 
 mates. He wore no vest: his suspenders 
 were a compound of tow-string and leather. 
 One of them had a sort of buckle, the 
 tongue to which was gone. In place of it he 
 stuck a shingle-nail through the strap, to 
 hold it. When he wanted to take a hitch in 
 his suspender he would move the nail up one 
 hole. 
 
 Uncle Charley commenced negotiation by 
 asking the farmer how much land he owned. 
 
 "Wai, I consider there's clus ontew two 
 hundred and sixty acres on't," replied he. 
 
 " Do you think any of it will ever be oil 
 territory?" asked uncle Charley. 
 
 " Reckon not. How could ile git up so fur's 
 this? Guess we'll alwus be scace on't for ile 
 up here." 
 
 " Wouldn't you like to let some one test 
 your land for oil, if it cost you nothing?" 
 
 " Dunno but I mout, if he didn't git too 
 near the house, and spile my yard." 
 
 His " yard " was a patch of weeds in which 
 several long-legged, long-nosed pigs, and two 
 
66 
 
 PETROLIA. 
 
 or three thin calves and a multitude of geese 
 pastured. 
 
 " Well," said uncle Charley, " I don't know 
 as there is a foot of oil on your farm ; but 
 they are finding oil in a good many queer 
 places now, and no one knows but we might 
 happen to strike a smell even up here. We've 
 got a little money to throw away on an exper- 
 iment, and if you've a mind to give us a lease, 
 we'll sink a hole to venture. What do you 
 say ? " 
 
 The farmer bit a large piece off a big plug 
 of tobacco, took out a huge jackknife, and 
 commenced to whittle at the side of the house, 
 and finally, turning to his wife, said, 
 
 "What d'ye say, old woman? Would you 
 let 'em bore a hole in our land?" 
 
 The "old woman" didn't like the idea. 
 She said, 
 
 " 'S like's not the critters'll be falling down 
 the ile well, 'n gettin' drownded.*' 
 
 At this, Fred, with a boy's irreverence and 
 love of a joke, laughed, and said to Arthur, 
 " he presumed they would if they were all as 
 small as those out in the yard." The farmer 
 did not hear this remark plainly ; so he leaned 
 forward, and looked at Fred, and said, 
 
 "Hay?" 
 
 Fred looked confused, and made no answer 
 to the interrogatory. Then the farmer said, 
 bluntly, 
 
 " Youngsters should be seen, and not 
 heerd." 
 
 Then, resuming the subject, he said, 
 
 "I am afeard ye'll litter my farm all up; 
 and if you strike one of them flowing wells, 
 everything will be all daubed up with ile. I 
 won't have the looks of my farm spiled in 
 that way." 
 
 These and many other similar objections 
 uncle Charley talked out of the way, and at 
 last got them to consent to make a lease. 
 After this was done, he had still more objec- 
 tions to overcome, to get them to put into the 
 lease an "option clause," by which they 
 would give uncle Charley the power to buy 
 the farm at any time within a year. This 
 was finally arranged by putting in the option 
 clause with the price stated at one hundred 
 dollars per acre, which uncle Charley should 
 pay, if he decided to buy the land. The 
 'farmer said his land was worth, for farming 
 purposes, about ten dollars per acre; and he 
 thought, when he put in the price at one hun- 
 dred dollars per acre, he had got it so high 
 there was no danger of these meddlesome 
 Yankees ever paying that sum, and taking his 
 farm away from him, which calamity was the 
 thing he sought to avert. 
 
 Even then the old lady did not think 
 were entirely safe from scheming strangers 
 seeking to pay them ten times the value of 
 their land. She "was afeard they'd be 
 shunted clean out o' house and hum." So 
 she insisted they should leave out of the con- 
 tract their house and barn (a low shed), and 
 five acres of land, which could not be sold. 
 To please her the contract was so drawn. 
 
 It took two or three days' negotiation to 
 talk them into the agreement and get the pa- 
 pers signed. They immediately let the con- 
 tract to have the well drilled. They employed 
 a surveyor to run a line directly from the 
 biggest wells on the river to the best ones on 
 the creek. He marked the line by "blazing" 
 the trees that grew upon it. "Blazing" was 
 done by cutting a chip out of one side of a 
 tree with an axe. While running this line 
 through a ravine on the farm they had leased, 
 they discovered a coal mine. This gave them 
 cheap fuel to run their engine with. Other 
 wells were supplied by hauling coal up the 
 mountain from the river a tedious and cost- 
 ly business. 
 
 All indications were favorable, as the well 
 went down. In about three months they had 
 gone down nine hundred feet, and the flow of 
 gas and " show " of oil from the second sand 
 was large; so much so, that they felt sure of 
 success. 
 
 The old farmer did not share their hopes. 
 He came occasionally to see how they were 
 getting along, and to tell them they "couldn't 
 find nothin'." 
 
 Uncle Charley instructed the boys and the 
 drillers not to try to persuade the farmer into 
 hopefulness of success. They rather took the 
 same despondent view of it that he did. Mean- 
 time, uncle Charley was carefully talking him 
 around . to completing the sale of the land. 
 In fact, the old farmer was so sceptical as to 
 the oil prospects of his land, that he consent- 
 ed, before the well was down, to sell the whole 
 (except five acres and his house and " barn ") 
 for seventy dollars an acre, and thought he 
 had a good bargain at that. 
 
 W T hile this negotiation was in progress the 
 work of drilling had stopped. The .drillers 
 announced that the tools were fast in the well, 
 one thousand feet down, and spent several 
 days working over it. As soon as the sale was 
 made, the drillers succeeded in bringing out 
 the tools. Uncle Charley was there when the 
 tools were drawn, and the men told him there 
 were " five hundred feet of oil in the hole ; " by 
 which they meant the well had already filled 
 with oil to that depth. 
 
PETROLIA. 
 
 6 7 
 
 PART VI I. 
 
 FLAG-AND-WINDMILL WELL NO. 2. 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 THE well was speedily finished, the pump 
 and tubing put in, and, in a few days, 
 the well was pumping steadily at the rate of 
 forty-four barrels per day. This strike was 
 the greatest fortune the " boy operators " had 
 enjoyed. As the land itself belonged to them 
 and uncle Charley, they owned all the oil 
 produced. 
 
 As soon as the news of this strike on a " new 
 belt" had got abroad, which it did very 
 speedily, crowds of operators and specula- 
 tors came to see it. Everyone was astonished 
 to see such a well in such an unexpected lo- 
 cality. The boys and their uncle were over- 
 run with applicants, eager to get leases, and 
 give the owners half the oil. As the excite- 
 ment increased, higher offers were made for 
 leases, until several offered to pay two thousand 
 dollars for the chance to put down wells, and 
 give half the oil obtained. This extra price of- 
 fered for the privilege of a lease is called a bonus. 
 
 Uncle Charley now called the boys into the 
 engine-house, and said, 
 
 " Well, boys, we've got a big thing. The 
 well is a good one, and, what is better, we 
 oivn all the territory near it. Now, what shall 
 we do? Shall we go on and put down the 
 wells, and thus secure all the oil for our share ? 
 or shall we give other parties half the oil, if 
 they will be at the expense of sinking wells? 
 Shall we develop the territory ourselves, or 
 lease it?" 
 
 Arthur said, " What bonus can we get for 
 leases?" 
 
 " Three thousand dollars on each a.cre lease 
 is now offered," replied the uncle. 
 
 " And how much does it cost to sink a well 
 ourselves ? " asked Fred. 
 
 "About five thousand dollars," he replied. 
 
 " So," said Arthur, " if we give leases, we 
 get and save, together, on each acre, eight 
 thousand dollars." 
 
 "Eight thousand dollars," repeated his un- 
 cle. "And we run no risks." 
 
 " But, then, we get only half the oil," put in 
 Fred. " So we do run a risk of losing half the 
 oil on a good well. We don't know but we 
 may strike a two or three hundred barrel 
 well." 
 
 " That's so," said his uncle. "And, if we 
 should, half of the oil would pay all the ex- 
 pense of sinking the well in a short time." 
 
 " I think," said Arthur, " that we had better 
 put down more wells ourselves, until we find 
 out what kind of a belt we have got. If it 
 improves, we can make better leases than we 
 can now, with only one well down. If it 
 proves no better than at present, we can al- 
 ways make plenty of money out of it, either 
 to hold and develop for ourselves, or to lease 
 to others. We have money enough to put 
 down half a dozen wells." 
 
 "For that matter," said his uncle, "this 
 well will furnish all the capital we need to 
 carry on our operations." 
 
 So they agreed to grant no leases at pres- 
 ent, but to go on and sink more wells for 
 themselves. They therefore announced to all 
 applicants that there was no territory to sell 
 or lease on that farm. 
 
 The operators immediately bought or 
 leased, if they could not buy all the farms 
 around the new territory. As most of these 
 were not on the belt which Arthur had dis- 
 covered, the operators not being possessed 
 of the secret of its location, but little of the 
 territory produced oil. A narrow belt of land, 
 north-east and south-west of the one the boys 
 owned, proved to be rich territory. All the 
 rest showed dry holes. 
 
 " What are you going to call this well and 
 farm ? " asked Fred. 
 
 Arthur said he would like to call the well 
 " Flag-and- Windmill Well No. 2," in remem- 
 brance of their first fortune in oil. 
 
 " That is all right," said his uncle. " And, 
 as you first discovered this belt, I think we'd 
 better call this the * Arthur Tract.' " 
 
 Arthur felt highly complimented by this, 
 but said he'd like to have Fred's name men- 
 tioned in some way. 
 
 " O, we'll give Fred's name to the next big 
 well we strike," said uncle Charley. 
 
 Fred said that was satisfactory. 
 
 They now let the contract to sink three more 
 wells, near the Flag-and-Windmill No. 2. In 
 prosecuting this work, they hit upon one or 
 two plans that economized the work and saved 
 them a large sum of money. With the oil 
 from the Flag-and-Windmill Well No. 2 an 
 immense quantity of gas came forth. It rose 
 from around the casing, and from the tank 
 into which the oil was pumped, looking like 
 waves of hot air from a furnace, or from the 
 surface of the ground on a sultry day. To 
 secure it from spreading and taking fire from 
 the engine-house, they had connected a pipe 
 with the well, and conducted it a hundred feet 
 away. They then set fire to it at the end of 
 the pipe. It burned with a body of flame as 
 
68 
 
 PETROLIA. 
 
 large as a hogshead, and twenty or thirty feet 
 long, with a roar like escaping steam from a 
 large boiler. It made a light that could be 
 seen at night ten miles away. 
 
 One day, as Fred stood looking at this flame 
 from a safe distance, the idea occurred to him, 
 " What's the use of wasting all this fuel? 
 Why can't we make use of it, and save 
 coal ? " 
 
 He immediately proposed the plan to his 
 uncle. Uncle Charley declared it was just the 
 thing, and muttered to himself, 
 
 " What an idiot I have been not to think of 
 that before ! It would have been twenty-five 
 thousand dollars in my pocket by this time." 
 
 The engineer, to whom they submitted the 
 matter, said he thought it would work, and 
 added, 
 
 "You have gas enough to heat a boiler for 
 a dozen engines." 
 
 " There's another good idea," exclaimed 
 Fred. " Instead of buying a boiler with each 
 engine? why not get one boiler that will make 
 steam for four or six engines? Will one big 
 boiler cost as much as six small ones?" 
 
 " Not half as much," said his uncle. " And 
 it will save an engineer at each well. One 
 man can run four or six engines, with one fire. 
 Fred, that's a good idea. You're a trump." 
 
 Although Fred didn't know exactly what 
 kind of an animal a " trump" was, he under- 
 stood he'd suggested a valuable improvement. 
 
 It proved to be so. The big boiler was 
 bought, and three engines without any boil- 
 ers. By purchasing in this way, they saved 
 twelve hundred dollars on the start. 
 
 When the boiler was set, a small pipe for gas 
 was laid into the furnace under it. When the 
 stop-cock was turned, and the gas lighted un- 
 der the boiler, it filled the furnace and flues 
 full with roaring flames. It made steam very 
 fast, the heat was so intense. 
 
 When they first started this supply of fuel, 
 tkey had an explosion. They had to uncap 
 the casing, to make some alteration in the 
 tubing, which allowed most of the gas to es- 
 cape at the opening of the well. The pressure 
 was thus reduced in the gas-pipe, and the cur- 
 rent was not strong enough to feed the flame, 
 and keep it clear at the end of the pipe. The 
 flame followed the stream of gas into the pipe, 
 and blew up the whole length of it, and set 
 fire to that around the well. The result was 
 a fire that burned the derrick. It stopped it- 
 self, nearly, and in this way : The iron cap 
 that screws on the top of the casing was lifted 
 only a little, at the time of the explosion, and 
 held up by a chip placed under it. As soon 
 
 as the chip burned, the cap dropped of itself, 
 and stopped all the supply of gas, except what 
 came from one opening. This was very easily 
 stopped by shovelling damp dirt upon it. Af 
 this was not a flowing well, there was no oil 
 to supply a fire. A conflagration of gas alone 
 is easily managed. 
 
 When they got repairs made, and the pipe 
 laid to the boiler again, they put in the pipe 
 a valve, called a check-valve, which, by clos- 
 ing as soon as a back-flow of gas set in, would 
 check it. The check- valve opens only for a 
 strong current of gas running from the well. 
 
 By laying steam-pipes from the big boiler 
 to the different engines, an abundant supply 
 of steam to run them all was furnished. As 
 the gas cost nothing, there was no expense in 
 making steam. 
 
 Nearly as many people came to see this new 
 contrivance, as if it were another big strike. 
 Of course they all asked, "Who was the 
 smart chap that thought of that?" When the 
 boy Fred was pointed out as the inventor, peo- 
 ple were still more surprised. The engineer 
 got some paint, and lettered the big boiler, 
 
 Fred's Patent Heating Apparatus. 
 
 He intended the "patent" part of it for a 
 joke ; but half the visitors believed it was a 
 patent; and one sharp man tried to buy the 
 right to use it for all the Oil Country. Fred 
 frankly told him it was no patent, and any one 
 could use it without fee. The drillers told 
 Fred he was a fool ; that he ought to have 
 sold the man the right, if he was green enough 
 to buy it. 
 
 " No," said uncle Charley, who overheard 
 the remark; "Fred was right, morally and 
 legally. It would have been both dishonest 
 and illegal to sell a fictitious right. It would 
 have been fraud, and Fred would have gotten 
 into trouble if he had done it. So you men, 
 that are ridiculing Fred for not cheating, are 
 really the foolish ones not he. I'd advise you 
 never to try to live by your wits dishonestly. 
 You'd soon play out for want of capital." 
 
 The men looked rather cheap and crest-fall- 
 en at being thus reproved for lack of both 
 honor and brains. 
 
 The new wells proved to be all good ones ; 
 one of them flowed one hundred barrels per 
 day when first struck, and finally settled down 
 to pumping seventy-five steadily. 
 
 Operators now were willing to pay as high 
 as a five thousand dollar bonus for a lease. 
 Thus the decision of the owners of the Arthur 
 Belt to develop their own territory proved a 
 wise one. 
 
They were soon getting so much oil that 
 they had to provide a pipe line to pipe it to 
 the railroad for shipment. A pipe company 
 wanted to lay this line for them ; but they de- 
 cided, as in the matter of developing the farm, 
 to do their own business, or, as uncle Char- 
 ley expressed it, to " run their own machine." 
 They had capital enough to construct the pipe 
 line, tanks, and shipping-range at the rail- 
 road, and had already steam enough, free of 
 cost, to operate the force-pump to send the oil 
 over to the shipping-range. So they con- 
 structed the pipe line, and thereafter it cost 
 them nothing to ship their oil. 
 
 They presently built a neat house for an of- 
 fice of their extensive business and a residence. 
 Arthur wrote home for his sister Nelly to come 
 and manage the house for them, promising 
 her a half interest in a good well for her sal- 
 ary as housekeeper. Nelly came, and made a 
 very happy home for them, and a handsome 
 little purse for herself; for both her brothers 
 and uncle insisted on sharing their good for- 
 tune with her. 
 
 They now had on the Arthur Tract a very 
 complete petroleum farm. With the land and 
 all the wells belonging to them ; an abundant 
 production of greasy wealth ; the almost cer- 
 tain promise of more, whenever they pleased 
 to bore more wells ; a well-systematized, care- 
 fully and economically managed business; a 
 transportation line also belonging to them, 
 arranged conveniently to throw oil from any 
 well on to the oil cars three miles away, at 
 any moment, they had the snuggest estab- 
 lishment, and the best prospect of great wealth 
 of any firm in the Oil Regions. 
 
 Besides, they had a very pleasant home in 
 the mountains. Home comfort is a thing much 
 lacking in petroleum life. They fitted their 
 house up elegantly, as became young oil 
 princes. Pleasant grounds were enclosed and 
 beautified ; abundant springs from the moun- 
 tains above supplied them with fountains and 
 fish ponds, which Fred took pains to have 
 abundantly stocked with trout. The wild, ro- 
 mantic scenery, pure air and water, added to 
 
 PETROLIA. 69 
 
 the pleasure of all this wealth and comfort, as 
 well as contrasted with it. 
 
 Arthur, Fred, and Nelly were now so happy 
 and prosperous that they only lacked the com- 
 pany of their parents and little Lulu to make 
 their contentment complete. After much per- 
 suasion, by mail, the family was finally 
 induced to sell the Massachusetts farm, and 
 remove to the Oil Regions. Each one, Ar- 
 thur's father included, was given certain duties 
 to do. Mr. Sears, being a good mechanic, was 
 given charge of all the engines and boilers, 
 and other machinery on the farm. It kept 
 him pretty busy to see them all kept in order. 
 
 One of the numerous wells they sank pro- 
 duced no oil, but it did send forth prodigious 
 volumes of gas. It came out with a pressure 
 that roared like steam, and could with diffi- 
 culty be controlled. Mr. Sears thought this 
 powerful pressure could be used to some good 
 purpose. So he conveyed the gas in a pipe 
 into the force-pump, used for piping oil. To 
 his satisfaction and the astonishment of every- 
 body, the gas, when turned into the cylinder, 
 operated the pump better than steam. Pipes 
 were now laid to the engines, and the pressure 
 proved sufficient to run them all. The steam- 
 gauge showed the pressure of gas to be over 
 two hundred pounds to the square inch. Thus 
 boilers and fires were abolished, and all the 
 machinery operated by a power furnished from 
 the same source with the oil. 
 
 They now had an establishment not only 
 rich in oil, but one it cost nothing or al- 
 most nothing to work. With the certain 
 prospect of immense wealth before them ; with 
 pleasant home surroundings ; with enough to 
 do to keep them healthy and contented, and 
 not so much to do that they could not go upon 
 pleasure excursions, and take occasional trips 
 to Europe ; with plenty of means, so that 
 they could enjoy the luxury of doing good, 
 in which best way of all they spent much 
 money, all of them had abundant cause to 
 bless the day they came to Petrolia, and to 
 thank the good Father above for the abundant 
 blessings they enjoyed. 
 
AMONG THE RAFTSMEN 
 
 SAM SUDDENLY DESCENDS. 
 
 AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 
 
 BY FRANK H. TAYLOR. 
 I. MAKING BAFTS. 
 
 IN Western New York and Northern Penn- 
 sylvania the large pine forests, which once 
 covered the greater portion of these sections, 
 have been cut down and converted into lum- 
 ber, and floated down the Alleghany and Ohio 
 Rivers, to be vised in building the cities upon 
 their banks. Some of the lumber -has even 
 been carried to New Orleans; and we may, 
 perhaps, find in every city, from New. Orleans 
 up the Mississippi and Ohio to Pittsburg, lum- 
 ber which grew far up among the hills of West- 
 ern New York. Where this timber once grew 
 are now rich farms. Villages of from two to 
 ten thousand inhabitants have arisen upon 
 the site where the old pilots who now run the 
 river once cut timber for their rafts. 
 
 But the want of pine timber is already being 
 felt, and hemlock is taking its place. Trees 
 that fell centuries ago, and were left as worth- 
 less by the first timber hunters, are now 
 dragged forth from the places where they have 
 lain so long, and all available portions of them 
 used. Logs that have lain unnoticed until the 
 greater portion of them has decayed, are used 
 for shingles. 
 
 But the raftsmen still keep their vocation. 
 Each spring the river carries down thousands 
 of feet of lumber to the Ohio and Missis- 
 sippi cities,, and all through the year car- 
 loads of timber are shipped east and south. 
 The old race of raftsmen, however, is disap- 
 pearing, and with it many of the incidents 
 of the rough life which lent a peculiar charm 
 to a trip " down the river." 
 
 Fights with the inhabitants were then an 
 every-day occurrence. The} 7 replenished their 
 tables with fowls from hen-roosts and mutton 
 from the flocks of sheep by the river-side. 
 Foraging is continued to this day; and it is 
 not considered a theft by the raftsmen to ap- 
 propriate to their own use any stray animals 
 or fowls they may have the good luck to 
 find. 
 
 And with this preface we introduce our 
 readers to our heroes, and follow them down 
 the river. 
 
 Lawrie and Clare Norton were city boys, 
 twins, fourteen years old, and were spending 
 the winter and spring with their cousin, Sam 
 Norton. Their uncle was part-owner of a 
 steam saw-mill and a lumber-tract; and they 
 enjoyed themselves in watching the trans- 
 formation of the huge pine trees from their 
 fall in the forest until they were thrown 
 from the mill in the shape of boards. All 
 
AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 
 
 winter men with teams had been busy at 
 work, felling and drawing the logs, work- 
 ing from four o'clock in the morning until 
 long after dark at night. The mill hud not 
 ceased work, except on Sundays, through the 
 whole season. Two sets ot hands were em- 
 ployed at the mill, one working through the 
 day, the other at night. 
 
 The mill-yard was filled with huge piles of 
 boards; and in the latter part of winter a new 
 set of men and teams was hired to draw the 
 lumber to the creek. 
 
 " We shall be rafting to-morrow," said Mr. 
 Norton, one evening, "and if you boys wish 
 to see the work, come down with some of the 
 teams in the morning." 
 
 " What time do the teams go? " asked Sam. 
 
 "The first loads go at four o'clock. But 
 you can eat breakfast, and come down on some 
 of the second loads." 
 
 The boys were up early in the morning, 
 and, eating a breakfast of buckwheat cakes 
 and mince pie, hastened to the mill-yard. 
 
 Here was a busy scene. Teams were com- 
 ing and going at all times. The men upon 
 the board-piles were kept busy shoving off the 
 boards upon the sleds, which were backed up 
 to the piles. They grasped a board at the op- 
 posite end from the sled, and, with a twitch, 
 sent it upon the load, where it was quickly put 
 in place bv the loader. 
 
 The loads were built nearly five feet high 
 and five broad, each load containing over two 
 thousand feet of boards. When the load was 
 finished, it was bound on with chains, and a 
 binding-pole, twisted through the forward 
 chain, was bent down and fastened behind. 
 The horses were immediately whipped into a 
 trot, and the huge load swayed from side to 
 side over the rough road, sleds creaked, drivers 
 hallooed, and the vacant place was immedi- 
 ately filled by another sled. 
 
 The boys mounted one of the loads, and 
 seated themselves on the boards. The greater 
 part of the road was slightly descending, so 
 that the horses did not pull in the least, and 
 were constantly trotting. Where the road 
 went through a gutter, or up a small pitch, the 
 horses were put into a gallop, and the impe- 
 tus carried them over it. 
 
 At the foot of one of these hillocks was a 
 sluice, where the water ran through, and over 
 which a few boards had been placed. These 
 had been worn smooth by the continual pass- 
 ing of teams, and made a jump in the road. 
 
 " Take care of yourselves now," shouted the 
 driver, as he started the horses down the pitch. 
 " There is a jump at the bottom here." 
 
 But instead of jumping, the last sled struck 
 the boards, shoved them ahead, ran against 
 the opposite side of the sluice, and stuck fast. 
 The horses had gained such force in the run 
 that they snapped the double whiffle tree like 
 a cord, and dragged the driver off the front of 
 the load. He alighted upon his feet, however, 
 and quickly stopped them. 
 
 Sam had been sittingon the edge of the load, 
 with his feet hanging off", and the sudden shock 
 threw him head first into a snow-bank, where 
 only his feet were visible. He was quickly 
 dragged from this position by the driver, and 
 set upon his feet, puffing, and very red in the 
 face. 
 
 " I'll show you youngsters a trick with rough materials." 
 
 "Well, young porpoise, how came you 
 there ? " 
 
 " Why, your stopping was rather unexpect- 
 ed, and I followed the natural law of gravita- 
 tion." Sam had read Isaac Newton. "Jhst 
 let me know a little beforehand when you pro- 
 pose to stop again, and I'll be ready to 'stop, 
 too." 
 
 " Now you've got to go back," said Clare, as 
 he looked at the broken whiffletree. 
 
 " Don't be so sure," said the driver. "I'll 
 show you youngsters a trick with rough ma- 
 terials." 
 
 He took an axe, one of which was with every 
 sled, and went into the woods. He soon re- 
 turned with a beech stick about three feet long 
 
AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 
 
 - 73 
 
 and six inches through. This he hewed down 
 upon each side, until it was about an inch and 
 a half thick. 
 
 "Now don't you think I can get along?" 
 asked he of Clare. 
 
 " Have you an auger? " asked Clare. 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Then you can't make the holes." 
 
 " See here, "he said, cutting a notch in the 
 side of the stick, near the middle, just deep 
 enough for the draw-bolt to set into. Then, 
 upon the opposite side from this notch, and 
 about two inches from each end, he cut two 
 holes large enough for the single \vhiffletree- 
 bolts. 
 
 " There, it is all made," he said, and proceed- 
 ed to put it in its place. The whiffletree was 
 so wide that when the clevises were fixed in 
 place they could not slip off the ends. " That 
 is rough work, but better than to waste half 
 an hour in going after a nicer one." 
 
 When the boys arrived at the creek, they 
 found a scene as lively as the one in the mill- 
 yard. The boards were unloaded on the bank 
 of the creek, where men were busily engaged 
 in placing them on the rafts. 
 
 A raft had just been begun, and the boys 
 went down to the edge of the water to watch 
 the work. A large number of odd-looking 
 sticks were lying about the bank, fashioned 
 like a cudgel, about three feet long, and with 
 a large knob at the end. Lawrie asked one 
 of the men if they were shillalehs. 
 
 "Yes! a raftsman's shillaleh," he replied; 
 " but they go by the name of grubs here. We 
 use them in the place of nails and bolts, to 
 hold the rafts together." 
 
 "What are they made of?" 
 
 " Oak saplings. We cut off the top of the 
 sapling about three feet from the ground, and 
 then cut and grub them that gives them 
 their name out of the ground, leaving a large 
 piece of the root on, to form a shoulder or 
 head. The stem is trimmed down to fit an 
 inch hole. 
 
 " But how do you use them?" queried Law- 
 rie, determined to trace the grub through all 
 its changes. 
 
 " Watch us begin this raft, and you will see 
 their first use." 
 
 Three planks had been laid down, parallel 
 to each other and eight feet apart, while they 
 were talking. Each plank had three holes in 
 it, one at each end and one in the middle. 
 Through each hole the raftsmen fixed a grub, 
 with the head under the plank, forming a 
 square of three rows of grubs each way. The 
 planks were fastened together with three 
 
 boards, bored with holes like the planks, for 
 the insertion of the grubs. These were laid 
 across the planks, a board to each row of 
 grubs, and thus the bottom of the forward 
 part of the raft, or the first platform, as the 
 raftsmen call it, was made. This platform 
 was pushed into the water, and another one 
 commenced by inserting the grubs at the end 
 on shore into the end holes of three other 
 planks, and these were connected together by 
 boards the same as before. This made a raft 
 thirty-two feet long and sixteen wide, or two 
 platforms. Three more platforms were added 
 to these, forming a raft nearly eighty feet long, 
 some of the length being taken up in lapping 
 
 " Then just run to the lower rafts and get us an axe." 
 
 the ends ot the planks together. As fast as a 
 platform had been laid, the men pushed the 
 raft farther into the water, and now it stretched 
 far down the stream, looking like a huge lad- 
 der with cross-boards every eight feet. 
 
 The raftsmen now began to lay boards across 
 the planks, to form the first tier or bottom of 
 the raft, commencing with the last platform 
 made. 
 
 " Now they're filling up the space between 
 the rounds of the big ladder," said Sam. 
 " Won't it be a nobby place to run on when 
 they get it laid clear through?" 
 
 " Are you good on the run? " asked one of 
 the men. 
 
74 
 
 AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 
 
 ".Yes, sir," replied Sam. 
 
 '.' Then just rim. to the lower rafts and get 
 us an axe." 
 
 Sam looked -disconcerted at their putting his 
 running powers to .use, but .started off when 
 the men added that, 
 
 " Boys must be useful as well as seen." . 
 
 When .the boards had been laid to the end 
 of the first platform, three more boards were 
 put on the grubs, two at each side and one in 
 the middle, and directly over the planks first 
 laid down. Thus the first tier of boards was 
 laid between the planks below and the boards 
 above. The space between these boards was 
 now filled up, the boards being laid directly 
 across the tier of boards below, and thus al- 
 ternately with each tier and platform. 
 
 When five or six tiers had been laid in this 
 manner across the whole of the raft, the men 
 proceeded to straighten it, for each particular' 
 platform had taken its own course, turning 
 upon the grubs as if they were pivots. 
 
 To do this, boards about twenty-three feet 
 long were used. Holes had been made in 
 these as in the other boards, and they were 
 put on from the middle grub on one platform 
 to the opposite one on the next platform. The 
 end of each board was lapped on the ends 
 of the middle grubs; and this combination 
 throughout the whole raft brought the sides 
 into a perfectly straight line. The straighten- 
 ing boards were then taken off, and the work 
 of laying the tiers resumed. From eighteen 
 to twenty tiers form a raft. When a raft was 
 finished and tied to the bank with cables, they 
 hung the oars. Clare and Lawrie were look- 
 ing for the oars as the men spoke of hanging 
 them. 
 
 " Can't I get them for you?" asked Lawrie, 
 willing to help, and thinking they were on 
 the bank. 
 
 "Well, yes," said the foreman, Mr. Ames. 
 "You will find them just beyond the boards, 
 on the bank. Bring them down here, and I'll 
 give 3'ou a cent. You other boys may help 
 him." 
 
 Clare started, but Sam only grinned, as if in 
 expectation of some fun. The boys could see 
 no oars when they reached the place indicated. 
 There were only some long poles, with big 
 boards pinned to the ends, and which Clare 
 said looked like liberty poles with guide-boards 
 nailed at the larger ends. 
 
 " We can't find them," shouted Clare. 
 " There they are. Pick them up and come 
 on," said Mr. Ames, coming up, and pointing 
 to the long sticks. 
 
 The boys looked at him in astonishment. 
 
 " Those big sticks oars ? " 
 
 "Yes; but you don't seem to think you can 
 lift them." 
 
 " We didn't eat an over-large dinner, and 
 don't feel very stout ; so I guess we won't try 
 it," said Lawrie, laughing. 
 
 " Well, take hold, men, and carry a couple 
 down to the raft." 
 
 The men lifted the oars upon their shoul- 
 ders, and placed one at each end of the raft. 
 Oar-pins were then fixed in the raft for the oars 
 to swing on, and a large hole was bored in the 
 oar to fit it. The oar-.stetin was nearly forty 
 feet long, eight inches in diameter at the large 
 end, where the paddle-board was fixed, and 
 
 "There they are ; just pick them up and come along." 
 
 tapering down to a handle at the other end. 
 The paddle was a board six feet long and two 
 inches wide pinned on the large end of the 
 oar-stem. Hanging the oars consisted in pla- 
 cing them upon the pins; and when this w'as 
 done, the raft was completed, except its -cargo. 
 
 The boys wondered how the oars could pull 
 the raft along when at the ends. 
 
 " Does the raft go side wise ? " they asked of 
 Mr. Ames. 
 
 " O, no. We let it float down with the cur- 
 rent, and only use the oars to keep it in the 
 stream. They are just the same as rudders to 
 a ship," he replied. 
 
 " You'll make raftsmen some day," said Mr. 
 
AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 
 
 75 
 
 Ames, as they were going home that night; 
 " and a good, healthy life it is, too. A sick 
 raftsman is as rare as a June snow-bank." 
 
 " But it is all. on account of the exercise and 
 early rising," said an old man, who had run 
 the river for years, and was the pilot of the 
 rafts. " Scholars in schools can be as healthy 
 if they would only work a little each morning. 
 Laziness is as much a disease as fever, and 
 kills more men." 
 
 '" There won't be no chance to-morrow lor 
 laziness," said Mr. Ames. " If the wind speaks 
 true, we'll have a storm before morning. If a 
 rain-storm comes and takes off the snow, 
 there'll be such a flood as we haven't seen for 
 years." 
 
 " The creek 
 
 s rising. 
 
 " If it does rain," said the pilot, " you boys 
 better drop down and see us. It will be a sight 
 you'll never forget." 
 
 The boys promised they would, for they saw 
 the old pilot took an interest in them, as such 
 rough men do in all boys, who do not put 
 themselves forward too much. 
 
 " I guess exercise, does make an appetite," 
 said Sam, while eating supper. " It gives the 
 victuals a good relish, at least." 
 
 " I should think so by your eating," said 
 Clare. 
 
 " Well, I should like to eat enough to carry 
 those oars to-morrow," laughed Sam. 
 
 Sleep came quicklv to the bovs' evelids that 
 night, for the long day's work had made them 
 
 tired; but Clare said, as he lay down, that it 
 was worth a day's hard work to have such a 
 pleasant feeling of rest. 
 
 Lawrie was awakened in the night by a 
 shouting, and springing out of bed, he heard 
 the rain falling on the roof, and saw the gleam 
 of lanterns in the yard. Going to a window, 
 he heard a man calling to his uncle, who soon 
 appeared. 
 
 " The creek is rising," shouted the man, 
 whom Lawrie recognized as Mr. Ames, "and 
 we must go for the rafts if we expect to save 
 anything." 
 
 " How long has the rain been falling?" 
 
 "Nearly six hours, and steadily, too. The 
 gutters and roads are full of water, and the 
 creek will be over banks before morning." 
 
 Lawrie awoke the boys, and, hastily dress- 
 ing, ran down stairs to the kitchen, which was 
 full of men. 
 
 " Let me go with you. uncle," said he to 
 Mr. Norton, who was putting on his oil-cloth 
 overcoat. 
 
 "Whew! What are j^ou out at this time 
 of night for? And here are the other boys. 
 Why, you'd get drownded if you went; the 
 rain itself would carry you off." 
 
 " Let them go," said the voice of the old 
 pilot. *' Boys won't be easy at home when 
 there's anything exciting going on; and I'll 
 warrant they'll take care of themselves." 
 
 "Well, get on your overcoats, and take a 
 bite of something to eat, while we bring out the 
 horses. But you mustn't be getting in the 
 way," said Mr. Norton. 
 
 The boys promised they would not, and were 
 ready to go as soon as the horses were at the 
 door. 
 
7 6 
 
 AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 
 
 THE BOYS TAKE A BATH. Page 79. 
 
 AMONG THE EAPTSMEN, 
 
 BY FRANK H. TAYLOR. 
 
 II. KAFTINQ. 
 
 IT was raining furiously, and the rush of 
 waters could be distinctly heard in the 
 woods, sounding like the rumbling of cars. 
 It was so dark that nothing could be seen be- 
 yond the light of the lanterns which the men 
 carried. The feet of the horses splashed in 
 water at every step, and at times the wagon 
 would drop into a sluice nearly to the box, 
 where a bridge had been swept away. ' The 
 boys were greatly excited with the romantic 
 scene, and only hoped the water would rise 
 higher. 
 
 " It will be high enough, my lads," said the 
 pilot. "The rain itself would be sufficient to 
 raise the creek; but you see there is snow 
 enough on the ground to make as much water 
 as has fallen. Where you saw the large banks 
 of snow yesterday, there won't be enough left 
 to make a snow-ball by morning. I remember 
 a flood we had two years ago, when the snow 
 was no deeper than now, and in six hours 
 from the time it commenced raining the creek 
 was overflowing its banks. 
 
 "A small brook, which was dry the greater 
 part of the year, rose so suddenly that it car- 
 
 ried away the larger portion of a village on its 
 banks, and one whole family was drownded. 
 The stores and churches were moved into the 
 middle of the streets. One church floated 
 against a hotel, moved it from its place, and 
 stopped on its walls, while the hotel went 
 down the stream.* The creek was full of ha}-, 
 grain, and lumber for days afterwards, and 
 some people made a rich harvest by gathering 
 them. 
 
 " But see," he exclaimed, as they came to 
 a place where the road ran on the edge of the 
 creek, "it is full banks already;" and he 
 swung his lantern out towards the water. 
 
 The boys could see the black, turbid water 
 rushing along, boiling and foaming, and now 
 and then splashing up into the road where, 
 they were riding. Its surface was covered with 
 pieces of boards, floating trees, and chips; 
 and the rafts were .stretching the cables far 
 down the stream. 
 
 " We must send the horses back immedi- 
 ately," said Mr. Norton, springing from the 
 wagon, " or the water will catch them." 
 
 The men alighted, and the horses were sent 
 home. 
 
 " Now, work with a will, men," said Mr. 
 Norton, " for we will have all we can do to 
 save our lumber before the water comes up." 
 
 A fact. 
 
AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 
 
 77 
 
 He called the boys to him, and gave them 
 the lights to hold. 
 
 " Follow the men," said he. 
 
 Large piles of boards were still unrafted, 
 and were in danger of floating down the creek 
 as soon as the water should reach them. Some 
 of the rafts were not completed. 
 
 "These must be finished first," said Mr. 
 Norton. " Lay hold of the boards, and we'll 
 beat the water jet." 
 
 The men rapidly transferred the boards from 
 the piles to the rafts, each one working with 
 a will. When one tier of boards had been 
 laid the whole length of a platform, another 
 was commenced by other men, to be followed 
 
 Building the fire. 
 
 by another; and thus several tiers were being 
 laid all at once, one set of men following 
 quickly after another, and each striving to get 
 their platform on to the heels of those ahead. 
 Bets were freely made among them ; and oft- 
 times the forward men were but a board ahead 
 as the platform behind them was finished. 
 The boys caught the excitement, and wished 
 to help on the rafts. 
 
 "Build a fire," said Mr. Norton, "to light 
 us by, and we'll give j-ou work." 
 
 They placed the lanterns where the men 
 could see, and commenced gathering materi- 
 als for the fire. Pieces of boards lay all about, 
 which they quickly collected into a huge pile; 
 shavings were whittled, and a light applied. 
 
 The wood was wet, and the fire sputtered and 
 snapped in the rain, which was still falling; 
 but some pitch-pine knots were soon in a blaze, 
 and the fire leaped up through the darkness. 
 The boys felt the sublimity of the scene, as 
 the huge fire sent its glare far out over the 
 waters, lighting up almost to the lowest raft, 
 revealing the rough forms of the raftsmen 
 moving swiftly about, the rushing waters sway- 
 ing the rafts to and fro, and throwing deep 
 shadows just beyond its farthest limits. 
 
 All the boards had now been carried upon 
 the completed rafts, which were drawn up be- 
 side the others, and Mr. Norton called the 
 boys to push the boards from the piles to the 
 raftsmen. The rafts were so near each other 
 that the boys had only to swing the boards 
 around, by balancing them across the pile, so 
 that the raftsmen could grasp the end and 
 pull it to them. At last only one raft was left 
 uncompleted, and all hands were at work on it. 
 
 "Why, it is growing darker," said Sam. 
 "Our fire is going out. We'll go and fix it up." 
 
 " It's the water," said Clare ; " don't you see, 
 it is putting the fire out? Uncle, the water is 
 rising! " 
 
 " So it is ! " said he, as he saw the waves 
 about the fire. " It is rising fast. Get the 
 lanterns." 
 
 " We left them by the fire," said Sam. 
 " They're in the water before now." 
 
 "We'll be left in the dark, then. Here, get 
 into this boat, and see if you can find them. 
 It will be a pretty fix if we have no light." 
 
 There were a number of boats tied to the 
 rafts, and the boys sprang into one of them. 
 .They could all row well for their age; so Mr. 
 Norton did not fear to trust them with the 
 boat. 
 
 The fire was fast dying out, only the higher 
 sticks burning, and every moment some of 
 these were falling into the water. The boys 
 rowed the boat to where they thought the lan- 
 terns had been left, and Lawrie, reaching over 
 the stern, attempted to find them. He could 
 not touch bottom. 
 
 " Hand me a stick," said he ; " the water is- 
 too deep." 
 
 Splash went another brand into the water. 
 
 "Come, hustle," said Sam, "or we won't 
 have enough light to see to tip over by, in a 
 moment." 
 
 Lawrie felt around on the bottom, but could 
 touch nothing. 
 
 "The boat is drifting away," said Clare; 
 " give it a push." 
 
 Sam dipped his oars, and one of them struck, 
 something metallic. 
 
AMONG THE RAFTSMEN.- 
 
 " There's one," said Clare ; " your oar hit it." 
 
 "I've got it," said Lawrie, as the boat swung 
 around; " and here's another." 
 
 " And there's the light," said Sam, as the 
 last brand fell into the water, leaving them in 
 darkness. 
 
 "Row this way," shouted Mr. Norton; and 
 guided by his voice they reached the rafts. 
 A light was soon produced. 
 
 "Now we'll put extra cables to the rafts, 
 and wait until morning. It will be daylight 
 in half an hour." 
 
 "I've got it." 
 
 Cables were fastened to the grubs on the 
 rafts, the end put into a boat and carried to 
 trees on the bank, where they were made fast. 
 Some of the rafts were tied to each other, side 
 by side, and all were brought up close to- 
 gether. 
 
 The boys made a rough shelter of boards on 
 one of the rafts, and lying down under it on 
 some oil-cloths, listened to the falling rain and 
 rushing waters. 
 
 "Wouldn't mother be scared if she knew 
 where we were now?" said Clare. 
 
 " I guess she is thinking of us," replied 
 Lawrie. 
 
 " More likely dreaming of you at this time 
 of night," said Sam. " Isn't it splendid, 
 though? It reads like a book. Here comes 
 the old pilot." 
 
 " We're going to have a big one," said he, 
 
 sitting down under the boards. "The whole 
 creek will be a lake before night, arid you boys 
 can make some spending money by catching 
 lumber to-day. There will be thousands of 
 feet come down the creek from the mills 
 above." 
 
 "This will be a splendid time to start down 
 the creek won't it?" asked Lawrie^ 
 
 " Not much. If we started now, we'd be 
 more likely to land in the middle of some 
 meadow than at Cincinnati. The wind and 
 current would carry us out of the creek and 
 into the woods, in spite of the men." 
 
 " When -will you start?" 
 
 " When the creek begins to fall. You see, 
 while it is rising, the currents run from the 
 creek, and when it is falling, the water turns 
 and runs towards it. So there will be no dif- 
 ficulty in keeping a raft in the centre of the 
 stream while the water is falling." 
 
 " How long will the water stay up?" 
 
 "I have seen it over the flats four weeks; 
 but this freshet will probably subside in less 
 time, as it has arisen so rapidly. I think we 
 may start in two weeks." 
 
 " Won't it be jolly ? Uncle has said we may 
 go with him, and aunt is going too." 
 
 "Yes; ladies go down the river very often 
 now; but I've seen the day when such a thing 
 would be thought impossible. . But women do 
 help to make the trip more pleasant, and it 
 keeps the men in mind of their own wives. 
 But now we'll see how the water looks." 
 
 The boys had been lying down, with their 
 heads covered, and when they roused up, they 
 saw it was quite light. The men were out in 
 boats, fixing the rafts, and making new tying- 
 places, or catching boards and logs that were 
 floating down the stream. To the surprise of 
 the boys, nothing could be seen of the road, 
 and only an opening through the trees showed 
 where it was. The stream, which was only a 
 few rods wide the night before, was now stretch- 
 ing half a mile on each side, and still rising. 
 They could see that the snow was nearly gone 
 from the hills, only a few snow-banks being 
 visible. It was still raining slowly. The water 
 looked black and muddy, and large cakes of ice 
 and creek rubbish were being borne out from the 
 stream by the current which settled landward. 
 
 " Here comes some timber," shouted one of 
 the men; and looking up the creek, the boys 
 saw a mass of boards floating down. 
 
 They were lying in every imaginable posi- 
 tion, piled one on another, sticking out from 
 the sides, and mixed with branches of trees 
 and old rubbish. Some of the boards had 
 dropped off, and were floating around it. 
 
AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 
 
 79 
 
 "Jump into this boat, boys," said the pilot, 
 " and we will hejp bring it in." 
 
 The pilot threw some ropes into the boat, 
 and followed the other men. The lumber was 
 setting in towards the land, and was some dis- 
 tance from: the bed of the creek. As they ap- 
 proached, it looked like a pile of boards which 
 had been well " stacked," but had been torn to 
 pieces coming down the creek. i . 
 
 "Take the end of the rope, and jump on the 
 boards," said the pilot to Sam and Lawrie,: who 
 sat in the bow of the boat, as they touched the 
 pile. " Now hitch it to some of .the boards." 
 
 The boys made an opening in the. top among 
 the loose boards, and found a plank near the 
 middle, to which they tied the rope. The 
 other boats did the same. 
 
 "The pilot pulled him into the boat." 
 
 "We'll stay on here, ".said the boys when 
 the ropes had been hitched to rings in the boat. 
 "We can ride here well enough, and see to 
 the ropes." 
 
 "Take care, then," said the pilot, as the 
 boats started. The pile dipped and pitched like 
 a ship at sea as the boats pulled it along; and 
 the boys found it was not easy to keep their 
 balance. The bottom boards would sometimes 
 touch the ground, and swing the pile around 
 with a jerk, nearly throwing them oft". As 
 they neared the rafts, the limbs of an old tree 
 which lay in the water caught in the cracks at 
 the bottom, and the next moment the pile sep- 
 
 arated. The boys stood near the middle, and 
 the ropes jerked the boards from under them so 
 quick, that they were flat on their backs. They 
 eagerly clutched the boards as they fell, and, 
 clinging to them, were thrown into the water. 
 The boards prevented their sinking, however; 
 and as soon as their fright was over, they drew 
 themselves upon them. They had fallen in 
 the middle of the pile, where it separated, and 
 they climbed upon the two separate portions, 
 where they sat laughing at each other, with 
 little streams of water running from their 
 clothes. 
 
 "Come here and help me," shouted Sam to 
 the pilot, "or I'll slide off again." 
 
 The pile on 'which he sat was constantly 
 falling to pieces; and before the boat could 
 reach him, they slid again, carrying him with 
 them. But he clung to the boards, and the 
 pilot pulled him into the boat, dripping from 
 head to foot. 
 
 The pile on which Lawrie sat swung clear of 
 the tree, and floated against the rafts, where he 
 sprang off. The boys shook themselves, let 
 the water run from their boots, and chased 
 each other around the rafts until they were 
 warm. 
 
 " You won't catch cold if you keep moving," 
 said the pilot, " nor. feel any hurt from the 
 ducking." Nor did they. 
 
 The boards had been fastened to the raft by 
 passing a long cable around them, and more 
 lumber was caught. The pilot had gone 
 in another boat with the men, leaving his 
 boat tied to the raft. 
 
 " Say we catch some timber on our own 
 hook," said Lawrie, after they had exercised 
 some time. 
 
 "I'll do it," said Sam. "Here, Clare, you 
 get in the stern of the boat to catch it, and 
 Lawrie and I will row. Yonder are some 
 shingles; we'll bring them in." 
 
 The shingles were floating on the opposite 
 side of the creek, and had escaped the notice 
 of the men until they were now nearly against 
 the rafts. The boys pulled for them; but the 
 current was so strong, they were not -reached 
 until far below. There were ten large bunches 
 of the shingles floating in a pile. The boat 
 was backed up, and Clare threw the rope 
 around them, fastening it to the ring in the 
 stern. 
 
 "Now we'll pull up this side of the creek, 
 where the current is not very strong," said 
 Lawrie. "Then we can come down with it, 
 and it will save us much hard pulling." 
 
 They managed this so well, that they soon 
 landed their load at the rafts, and started 
 
AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 
 
 after another. So well did they work, that 
 their "catchings" soon formed a large pile. 
 
 "You'll have some spending money, I 
 guess," said Mr. Norton, as he viewed their 
 work. "These shingles bear the mark of Mr. 
 Arlington, the richest lumberman in these 
 parts; and he will pay you well for saving 
 them." 
 
 "One of the rafts is loose," shouted Clare, 
 as they were returning from one of their trips. 
 " There it goes down the creek." 
 
 The boys looked, and saw it just swinging 
 into the current. None of the men was in 
 hailing distance. 
 
 "We must save it," said Sam. "Lay to the 
 oars, and we will catch up with it before it 
 floats far away." 
 
 They pulled to the rafts as quickly as possi- 
 ble, left their load, and started after the raft, 
 which was now some distance down the stream. 
 They pulled with all their force, and soon 
 brought the boat alongside. Clare sprang 
 upon it, and grasped a rope which lay on the 
 raft, one end of which was fastened to a grub. 
 Then springing back into the boat, he told 
 them to pull for some trees which grew on the 
 bank. Around one of these he wound the 
 rope, until all slack was taken up; and Sam 
 helped him hold the end. This could be easily 
 done, as it was wound about the tree, and the 
 raft slowly came in towards the shore. It 
 swung around until the rope was straight with 
 the current, when with a jerk the rope parted 
 close to the tree. 
 
 "Never mind; we'll have it yet," said Sam. 
 " See; it has run into the bushes. We gave it 
 such a swing, it has cleared the current." 
 
 They pulled quickly down, and sprang upon 
 it. It had run the forward oar into the bushes, 
 and swung broadside upon them. The broken 
 rope was dragged in, and several hitches made 
 to the trees near by, securing it from going 
 farther. 
 
 "Here comes uncle Philip and the pilot," 
 said Clare; and Mr. Norton sprang upon the 
 raft. 
 
 " Well done, boys," said he ; "I didn't know 
 but you had started on a trip by yourselves." 
 
 The boys told him of their chase and cap- 
 ture of the raft. 
 
 " It wasn't fastened over tight, and the waves 
 loosened the cabTes." 
 
 "You'd have lost it, sure, if it hadn't been 
 for them," said the pilot. " They're bricks, and 
 you ought to give them a share in the raft. It 
 is wholesale ' catching,' you see." 
 
 "You may run this raft, and pay me half of 
 the money you receive for it," laughed Mr. 
 
 Norton. "That will give you half to pay 
 your men and divide among yourselves." 
 
 The next day a number of men from up the 
 creek came down to claim their lumber, and 
 Mr. Norton brought one of them to the boys, 
 saying, " Mr. Arlington, here are the boys 
 who caught your shingles ; you may pay them 
 the money." 
 
 "What! these little fellows?" said he. 
 "Well, boys, you have done well. We will 
 count the bunches, and see what they are 
 worth. Sixty quarter bunches at a dollar each 
 are sixty dollars, and we pay one tenth for 
 catching them, which will be six dollars." He 
 pulled out an old wallet, and laid a two-dollar 
 
 "Is that all right? " 
 
 bill in each of the boys' hands. "Is that aK 
 right?" 
 
 "Yes, sir, thank you," said the boys. 
 
 " Well, now my shingles are here, how shall 
 I get them back to Cincinnati?" 
 
 " These boys have a raft here which has no 
 load. Perhaps you can strike a bargain with 
 them." 
 
 "The very thing. Boys, I'll give you half 
 the profits if you'll see them safe to Cincinnati." 
 
 The boys talked a little with Mr. Norton, 
 and among themselves, and then told Mr. 
 Arlington they would accept his offer. 
 
 " I'll see you in Cincinnati," said he, as he 
 left them. 
 
AMONG THE R A F T S M E N . 
 
 8l 
 
 FALL OF THE BRIDGE. Page 84. 
 
 AMONG THE EAFTSMEN, 
 
 BY FRANK H. TAYLOR. 
 III. DOWN THE CREEK. 
 
 SAM LAURIE and Clare waited impatient- 
 ly for the waters to subside, and visited 
 the rafts each day to see that all was right. 
 Meanwhile they hired two oarsmen, that being 
 a sufficient number for running one raft down 
 the creek. One of these was the old pilot, 
 Brown, who, besides acting as a hand, was to 
 pilot the raft. The other was an Irishman, a 
 raw fellow, who had never been down the 
 river. 
 
 The other rafts were being coupled together, 
 two and two, one behind the other, making a 
 ten-platform piece. They were fastened to- 
 gether with boards put over the grubs from 
 one raft to another, in the same way as the 
 platforms had been attached to each other. 
 In the middle of this raft, known as a " creek 
 piece," the shingles and lumber were piled in 
 rows, leaving plenty of room on the ends and 
 sides for the men to work and exercise. 
 
 " We have an unequal number of rafts," 
 said Mr. Norton, one day, "and if you boys 
 wish to go into a heavier trade, you may 
 couple it on to yours." 
 
 " We'll do it," said they, " if you'll let us 
 6 
 
 have it on the same terms as you did the other 
 one." 
 
 'That will be putting too much money in 
 your own pockets, you young schemers," 
 laughed he. " I have more shingles, how- 
 ever, than I can carry on my rafts handily, 
 and if you will take enough of them to make 
 your load amount to a hundred thousand, and 
 carry them free of charge, you may run the 
 raft upon the same terms as the other." 
 
 " All right," said they. 
 
 " It will only require two men for the ten- 
 platform piece, as only two oars are needed, 
 one at each end." 
 
 The piece was loaded with eighty thousand 
 shingles in quarter bunches, and floated down 
 to their piece, to which it was coupled. The 
 shingles were then arranged near the middle 
 of the raft, and the boys made a little house 
 out of loose boards upon the top of the pile. 
 Here they could lie while the raft floated along, 
 and enjoy the ride. 
 
 The tide currents had now begun to set in 
 towards the river, and the water was rapidly 
 falling. 
 
 " We must get ready to start to-night," said 
 Mr. Norton, when the water had fallen to full 
 banks. " Mother will go with the wagon that 
 carries the provisions to Warren, and all will 
 be taken on board there." 
 
AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 
 
 " Why don't they get on here? " asked Sam. 
 
 " Running the creek is too dangerous, and 
 we might lose all of our provisions far the trip 
 between here and Warren." 
 
 " How long will it take us to go there?" 
 
 " If we start to-night, we shall arrive at 
 Warren to-morrow night, provided nothing 
 happens." 
 
 " What ! do we run at night? " said the boys. 
 
 " O, yes. Rafts usually start at dark, so 
 as to gain time, and run the dangers of the 
 lower part of the creek by daylight." 
 
 The wagons were loaded with new cables 
 and ropes, and drawn to the rafts. The boys 
 provided themselves with rubber coats and 
 blankets to protect themselves from the night 
 air. The hands were collected upon their rafts, 
 bustling about, trying the oars, and arranging 
 cables, and the pilots were shouting their or- 
 ders, and all were making ready for the start. 
 
 A large number of rafts from farther up the 
 creek were continually passing while they were 
 at work, the men exchanging banterings, bets, 
 and jokes with each other, some betting on 
 the speed of their rafts, and that they would 
 make the quickest trip, and others that their 
 rafts would sell for the most. 
 
 " Your raft will run as fast as any of them," 
 said Joe Brown, the pilot. 
 
 " How can you tell?" asked the boys. 
 
 " Because it is heavily loaded. The heavi- 
 est raft runs the fastest, as it sinks deeper in 
 the water, and presents more surface for the 
 water to press against." 
 
 " Isn't it about time we were starting! 1 " said 
 the boys. 
 
 "Let some of the other rafts go first, and 
 we will put our piece in behind Mr. Norton's." 
 
 The rafts now began to pull out, and came 
 floating along by them. Mr. Norton was on 
 the head one, and called to the boys to cast 
 off as he went by. 
 
 " Stand by to throw off the cables ! " shout- 
 ed the pilot. 
 
 "Let us boys do it," shouted Laurie; and 
 he leaped upon the bank, followed closely by 
 Sam. 
 
 " Stand to your oar, there, Pheelim," said 
 the pilot. 
 
 " Here I is," said Pheelim, grasping the 
 forward oar. 
 
 " Untie the cable." 
 
 The boys loosened and threw it upon the 
 raft, and leaped on after it. 
 
 Pull to the right," said the pilot to Phee- 
 iim, at the same time beginning to pull on the 
 stern oar. 
 
 The oar was carried around to the left, with 
 
 the oar-stem close to the raft, then suddenly 
 raised to a level with the head. This is 
 called "dipping the oar," and it is quite a 
 trick to be able to dip it successfully the first 
 time. The oarsman walks in the direction the 
 raft is being pulled, pushing the oar before 
 him. When not in use, the oar is raised from 
 the water. 
 
 " Now, then, all together," said the pilot. 
 
 The raft moved slowly from the bank, and 
 floated down the stream, the two oarsmen pull- 
 ing steadily until it reached the middle of the 
 current. The boys climbed upon the shingles, 
 and stood looking up and down the river, 
 quietly enjoying the prospect. As far as they 
 could see, both up and down, the stream 
 seemed to be covered with rafts, many of them 
 being side by side, and some three abreast, 
 where they were running by each other. It 
 was beginning to get dark, and a few of the 
 rafts were making preparations to " lie up " 
 for the night. 
 
 "There'll be a scattering among these be- 
 fore morning," said the pilot. " Our rafts will 
 keep ahead, because they are heavier loaded 
 than those up the creek ; but we've got to look 
 out for them ahead of us." 
 
 The boys sat down in their " shanty," as 
 Pheelim called it, and watched the old pilot 
 steer the raft. They could hear the barn-yard 
 sounds as they passed along by the houses on 
 the bank, the shouts of the pilots up and down 
 the stream, the sounds of the men ringing out 
 upon the air, and echoed back from the shore, 
 and the muskrats plunging into the water as 
 they passed along. The rafts began to sepa- 
 rate, and run farther apart, until the boys 
 could see none of the others; but they could 
 tell by their shouts in which direction they 
 were. 
 
 "What is that?" said Clare, as they heard 
 several sounds coming from down the creek, 
 sounding as if somebody had struck upon 
 loose wood. 
 
 " I don't know. There's another," said Sam, 
 as the sound was repeated up the creek. 
 
 "I'll ask the pilot," said Laurie. 
 
 He went forward to ask him, when he saw 
 him strike several blows upon his our-stem, 
 and then shouted, 
 
 "Pull to the left!" 
 
 " What did you pound on the oar-stem for ?" 
 asked Laurie. 
 
 " To find out how to steer," said the pilot. 
 
 "Well, that's queer!" said Clare. "How 
 did you do it by the blows?" 
 
 " I told it by the echo. Just listen, now." 
 
 He struck several blows, and in a few mo- 
 
AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 
 
 merits the echoes could be heard upon the 
 shore. 
 
 " Which echo did you hear first?" 
 
 ''The one from the right bank," said the 
 boys. 
 
 " That shows we are nearer that bank than 
 the other. Pull to the left, Pheelim ! " 
 
 He then struck another blow, the echoes 
 coming back almost at the same time. 
 
 " Now we are about in the middle." 
 
 " I've got some lanterns on board. Shall 
 we light them?" said Clare. 
 
 "Yes; we'll pass under a bridge pretty 
 quick, and it will help us a little to have them 
 on the forward end." 
 
 The boys placed the lanterns at the two for- 
 ward corners, and sat down beside them. 
 They did not throw the light but a little 
 way, but they served as a warning to rafts 
 that might be in their course. 
 
 " These are like the head-lights to an en- 
 gine," said Sam. " I wish I had a horn to 
 blow, and we'd make bejieve 'twas a train of 
 cars." 
 
 " We mustn't go to playing such little 
 things," said Laurie. "Remember we're 
 owners of this raft, and not little boys." 
 
 " Well, we can play we're little boys. I've 
 seen old people play as if they were little 
 boys," said Clare. 
 
 "Pull to the right! Keep off! We're 
 aground!" some one shouted out of the 
 darkness below them. 
 
 "There's some one aground below us!" 
 shouted Laurie. 
 
 " Keep a watch for them, and let me know 
 their position," said the pilot. 
 
 " Be careful, and don't smash us, Mr. Pilot," 
 said Pheelim. " Remember I'm ahead, and 
 in the principal part of danger." 
 
 " Pshaw ! We won't smash. 'Tend to your 
 business." 
 
 " They're on the left bank," said Laurie. 
 
 " They're on the bar," said the pilot. " I 
 know the way now. Pull to the right, Phee- 
 lim." 
 
 The forward end of the raft swung out from 
 the left bank, and they glided within a few 
 feet of the raft aground. 
 
 " Help us off! " shouted the pilot, from the 
 raft. 
 
 " All right. Throw us a cable. Here, boys, 
 come and help." 
 
 The boys ran to the side of the raft, and 
 caught the cable which was thrown on board. 
 They then fastened it to the raft, so as to give 
 considerable slack. 
 
 " Now, pull to the right hand, Pheelim," 
 
 said the pilot. "Take care that the cable 
 don't slip off, boys, and we'll drag them clear 
 from the bank." 
 
 The pilot upon the other raft now ordered 
 his men to pull. The cable straightened out, 
 and the raft began to slip, and finally swung 
 around into the current. The boys cast off 
 the cable, which was drawn in by the others, 
 who sent after them a " much obleeged." 
 
 " How do you suppose they got stuck there ?" 
 asked Laurie. 
 
 " Because their pilot did not understand the 
 drift of the current, I presume. It runs pret- 
 ty rapid towards the bar, and then turns off 
 short; and a raft following the course of the 
 current will run the forward end upon the bar, 
 just as it is turning, and then swing around 
 broadside upon it. But I guess we must be 
 getting near the bridge." He struck upon the 
 oar, and the echoes came back from the banks 
 nearly together, and in a few seconds another 
 echo was heard below. 
 
 "That's the bridge," said the pilot. "Go 
 forward and watch for it. We want to steer 
 for the middle arch. The current will carry 
 us towards the right pier. Let us run within 
 two or three rods of it, and then give orders 
 to pull to the left. You give the orders, 
 Laurie." 
 
 " All right," said Laurie, going forward, with 
 a smile of satisfaction at the trust reposed in 
 him. He could see.the dark mass of the bridge 
 below them stretching across the stream. It 
 was impossible for him to distinguish the piers, 
 however, until they were quite close. He then 
 saw that they were headed directly for the 
 right pier, and that if they went on in the 
 same way the raft would be struck by it almost 
 in the centre. He excitedly yelled, 
 
 " Pull to the left! Pull to the left! We're 
 right on it." 
 
 The pilot saw they were running too close, 
 and shouted to Pheelim to throw it up to the 
 left. They pulled hard, but the current car- 
 ried them swiftly down, and directly towards 
 the pier. 
 
 " Pull, pull ! " shouted Laurie. " We'll hit 
 it, any way." 
 
 The pilot ran to the forward oar to help 
 Pheelim, sending the boys to his oar, with di- 
 rections to pull to the left. This double force 
 upon the forward oar had the effect to swing 
 the raft around faster; but they had run too 
 close to clear it. A brace ran down into the 
 water from the arch, and presented an inclined 
 plane to all rafts coming down the creek. The 
 corner of the raft struck this with a force 
 which almost threw the boys from their feet, 
 
8 4 
 
 AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 
 
 and shook the bridge until the timbers rattled. 
 But it slid up the brace until it had swung 
 around far enough to drop off, and then shot 
 swiftly under the bridge, grazing the piers as it 
 went. 
 
 44 That shave was too close for comfort," 
 said the pilot. 
 
 " That's what Pat Finnegan said when the 
 barber almost shaved his nose off," observed 
 Pat, who had been too scared for action. 
 
 " It made me think of my share of the 
 profits," said Sam. " Did you ever stave on a 
 bridge ? " he asked the pilot. 
 
 " Only once," he replied. " The bridge 
 was just below a rapid,, and it was a bad 
 place to steer. There were two of us on the 
 raft, besides a dog, and I was pulling the for- 
 ward oar. The piers of the bridge were simply 
 wooden posts, with no braces in them, as this 
 bridge has. Our raft was heavily loaded, and it 
 went through the rapids like a race-horse. The 
 fellow behind became a little excited, and 
 pulled the wrong way; and we struck one of 
 the piers kind o' cornerwise, and knocked it 
 out quicker'n a flash. I saw it falling, and 
 made a rush for the other end. The raft went 
 through, and struck the next pier, and then in 
 a moment the bridge fell right across the raft, 
 cracking the boards and smashing the forward 
 end all to pieces. We jumped into the water, 
 and swam ashore, leaving the raft to care for 
 itself." 
 
 "What became of the dog?" asked one of 
 the boys. 
 
 " He was caught under the bridge and killed 
 on nearly the same spot where I stood ; we 
 found him there when we cleared off the raft." 
 
 " How did you run the raft after it was 
 smashed?" asked the boys. 
 
 "We had to raft it over again; you'll see 
 plenty of such work before you reach Cin- 
 cinnati." 
 
 The boys now lay down under their shanty, 
 and covering themselves with their overcoats, 
 slept soundly until near morning, when they 
 were awakened by the pilot. 
 
 "We're in a pretty muss now," said he; 
 " shake yourselves, and come out here." 
 
 The boys were a little stiff after sleeping on 
 the hard boards, but they quickly roused up, 
 and gave themselves a shaking, which was all 
 their dressing. 
 
 It was nearly an hour before daylight, and 
 pitchy dark. Their lanterns had been lost when 
 they struck the bridge, and they had no mate- 
 rials for making a light. 
 
 " What makes the raft act so queer?" said 
 Sam. 
 
 ' Why, I believe it's whirling around," said 
 Clare. 
 
 " It actually is," said Laurie. 
 
 ''What's the matter, Brown?" No one 
 says Mr. on the river. " We're in the Duck 
 Pond," said he. 
 
 "The Duck Pond?" queried Laurie. 
 "What's that?" 
 
 " It's a big eddy; just here, where the creek 
 is wider than anywhere else. I'd ought to 
 have known better than to get into it ; but there 
 has been a boom across it to keep rafts out for 
 a long time, but it was carried away a short 
 time ago by a freshet, and I had forgotten it. 
 I never thought a thing 'bout it till we were in 
 too far to get out." 
 
 " That's what Pat Finnegan said when the barber almost 
 shaved his nose off." 
 
 " How large is it? " asked the boys. 
 
 " We go around a circle of about ten rods. 
 You can see the tops of the hills where they 
 come against the sky, and tell when we make 
 a circle." 
 
 The boys sat down and watched the peaks 
 as they came against the horizon. 
 
 " There's one we saw before," said Clare. 
 " Where is that peak, Brown ? " 
 
 "It is one of the Alleghenies, and is ahnost 
 in the direction we wish to go." 
 
 " Well, this is getting monotonous," said 
 Sam. "Can't you pull out?" 
 
 "No; the current is too strong. We might 
 
AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 
 
 pull all day, and not get beyond the cur- 
 rent." 
 
 " How will we get out, then? " asked he. 
 
 " Throw a rope to some of the passing rafts, 
 and let them pull us out. Some rafts stay in 
 here all day, before another comes along to 
 help them out. A couple of drunken men 
 were caught in here once with a skiff. They 
 rowed around here the whole night, supposing 
 all .the while they were going farther down 
 the creek. A house stood on the bank then, 
 and there was a dance in it that night; and 
 the men said, when they were found the next 
 morning, that it was the greatest place for 
 dancing on this creek they ever saw, for they 
 had rowed all night, and there had been dan- 
 cing in every house they passed." 
 
 "We're in a pretty muss now ; shake yourselves, and come 
 out here." 
 
 " How far from the eddy is the main stream?" 
 asked Laurie. 
 
 " About a rope's throw, from where the 
 rafts run." 
 
 " How long before there'll be a raft by?" 
 
 " It can't be a great while, for none have 
 passed since we have been in here, and we 
 passed some just before we went under the 
 bridge. You boys can watch while I take a nap." 
 
 The pilot lay down on the raft, under some 
 boards, with nothing but a coat around him, 
 and was soon mingling his snores with those 
 of Pheelim, who had been asleep some time. 
 
 "Now, boys," said Laurie, "there's no use 
 in waking the pilot up when a raft comes along. 
 We have been watching things pretty close, 
 and I believe we can manage the raft." 
 
 " I don't believe we can pull the oars," said 
 Sam. 
 
 " Yes, we can; don't you know Brown sent 
 us to the back oar to pull when we went under 
 the bridge ? " 
 
 " But suppose we get the raft stuck on some 
 place or stone?" said Clare. 
 
 ." Well, it's our own lumber, and it will be 
 our own loss." 
 
 " Yes ; but I don't like the idea of losing our 
 lumber. Just think of the money we'll have 
 to take home, if we go through all right," said 
 Clare. 
 
 "Well, we can try it," said Sam; "and if 
 we see anything going wrong, we'll wake up 
 Brown." 
 
 It was now nearly daylight, and the boys 
 could distinguish objects on the shore. They 
 saw that the eddy was a large pond, looking 
 as if cut out of the side of the creek by the 
 force of the water, and forming a large circle, 
 which at times carried the raft so near the bank 
 that they could almost leap to land. A farm- 
 house stood not far from the bank, and they 
 could hear the farm boys in the cow-yard, and 
 the occupants stirring about the house. 
 
 "Iwish could get some milk to drink," 
 said Clare, " for I begin to feel hungry." 
 
 "Why not jump off, and buy something at 
 that farm-house?" said Laurie. 
 
 " I believe I could leap ashore if you boys 
 would pull the raft around a little, where it 
 comes so near that point," said Clare. 
 
 " Try it," said Laurie. " You can get us 
 some cakes and cheese, and we can make a 
 good breakfast; but you had better hurry 
 before a raft comes along." 
 
 Sam and Laurie pulled the forward end of 
 the raft as near the shore as possible, and Clare, 
 taking a little run, sprang upon the land. 
 " All right! " said he. " I'll be back in a few 
 moments." 
 
 He found the farmer's wife busily engaged 
 in getting breakfast. Everything looked neat 
 and home-like about the house, and the woman 
 showed signs of education and refinement. 
 He told her his errand, and she generously 
 loaded him with cakes, and cut a huge piece 
 of cheese from a large one which lay on a 
 table. She refused the pay which Clare of- 
 fered her, and gave him a glass of the new 
 milk which the farm boys brought in. 
 
 He hastened to the raft, and showed the 
 boys his load. 
 
86 
 
 AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 
 
 and 
 
 "She refused all pay," said Clare 
 said we were welcome." 
 
 " Well, that was a generous act," said Sam, 
 " and I think I am able to appreciate it," tak- 
 ing a large bite of the cakes. 
 
 The boys enjoyed their lunch, and had just 
 finished it as a raft came in sight around a 
 bend, followed by several others. They fixed 
 the cable to be thrown. 
 
 "Give us a lift?" said Laurie, as the first 
 raft came opposite. 
 
 " Yes ; throw your cable." 
 
 Laurie threw the cable as far as he could, 
 but it fell short. 
 
 " You'll have to wait for the next raft," 
 shouted the raftsmen. 
 
 Laurie drew the cable in, and again made 
 ready for a throw. The next raft came oppo- 
 site just as he was on the outmost circle, and 
 there was but a short distance intervening, 
 but by an unlucky kink in the rope, it fell 
 short again. 
 
 Laurie began to think he had made a mis- 
 take in not calling the pilot ; but he determined 
 to try it once more. 
 
 " Here's a smaller rope," said Sam, " per- 
 haps you can do something with it." 
 
 " I could if I had a block," said Laurie. 
 
 " How will this do?" said Clare, picking up 
 a piece of a grub, that had been left on the 
 raft. 
 
 "That's what I want." 
 
 He tied the end of the small rope to the 
 block, and the other end to the cable. Another 
 raft had now come opposite them, and Laurie 
 picked up the small rope, and swung the block 
 around in a circle, as boys do when they throw 
 stones with a sling. Then, letting go with a 
 hard swing, he sent the block upon the other 
 raft. By means of the small rope the cable was 
 drawn to the raft, and fastened, and then the 
 boys began to pull, Laurie taking the forward 
 oar, and the others the rear one. 
 
 "Do you boys run that raft!" asked the 
 men. 
 
 " Yes; we own it," said Laurie. 
 " We've heard of you. You pulled us off 
 from the bar last night, and so we return the 
 compliment. Where's your pilot?" 
 
 "He's asleep, and we're going to run the 
 raft until he wakes up." 
 
 " You better be careful, or you'll run it into 
 the ground." 
 
 "O, we can follow you; and the pilot said 
 it was good running below here." 
 
 The raft had now reached the main current, 
 and the cable was cast off and drawn in. 
 " Now, boys," said Laurie, " I'll be pilot, 
 
 and you must obey me, every word, or we 
 may get aground." 
 
 The boys soon found that their raft ran 
 faster than the other, and that they were 
 gaining on them. 
 
 " What will you do if this raft runs into the 
 other?" asked Clare. 
 
 "I don't know," said Laurie, looking puz- 
 zled, as he saw the distance between the two 
 rafts swiftly diminishing. 
 
 Just below them was a sharp bend in the 
 creek, and as the forward raft turned this, the 
 boys, running their raft too near the shore, 
 struck against the corner of it with a force 
 which nearly started the boards, and awoke 
 the two sleepers. 
 
 Clare and the Farmer's Wife. 
 
 " Where are we?" said the pilot, as he saw 
 the raft was not in the Duck Pond, where 
 he went to sleep. 
 
 " Going on our own hook," said Laurie, a 
 little crest-fallen. 
 
 " Pull off there! " shouted the pilot of the 
 forward raft. "You are pushing us against 
 the bank." 
 
 The boys' raft, striking the corner of the 
 other, was pushing it across the creek in spite 
 of the efforts of the men, and there was dan- 
 ger of staving on the shore. 
 
 "Take the forward oar, Pheelim," said the 
 pilot, seeing the difficulty at a glance. " Throw 
 
AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 
 
 S 7 
 
 it up to the right; " at the same time he pulled 
 the stern oar to the left. 
 
 The other raft had now been pushed so near 
 the opposite bank, that there was room for the 
 boys' raft to run by. The pilot took advantage 
 of this opportunity, and steering to the right 
 through this opening, soon left the other 
 raft behind. 
 
 " That was a bad fix," said the pilot. " How 
 did you come down here, and in it? " 
 
 The boys told him their adventures, and 
 how they got out of the Duck Pond. 
 
 " Well, that was a pretty ingenious way, 
 and you might have got out of this all right; 
 but it was lucky I awoke, for there is a dam 
 just below here to run, and you would never 
 have got through it without staving." 
 
 " Faith, that was the greatest kick I ever had." 
 
 "What kind of a thing is it?" asked Clare. 
 
 " Why, it is a dam built across the creek to 
 run a saw-mill. There are not so many here 
 now, since they use steam, but they have them 
 by all the villages. Here it is, and plenty on 
 it, to see us go through." 
 
 The dam looked like a bridge without any 
 railing from where the boys were, except that 
 it was boarded up at each end for five or six 
 feet above the water, and nearly across the 
 stream, the only opening being in the middle, 
 through which the rafts ran. Through this 
 opening the water poured with a loud noise. 
 There was no fall, however, the bottom of the 
 
 dam being made by laying plank so as to form 
 a long chute, and large timbers were placed 
 for the sides, the whole looking not unlike the 
 chutes, made by boys for their water-wheels. 
 The force of the water, pouring through the 
 chute forms a bar below the dam, on which 
 the rafts are often stove or stuck. 
 
 The dam was crowded with the village boys 
 to see them run it, and there were a number 
 of persons on the bank. The boys became 
 greatly excited as they neared the dam, and 
 were still more so when they saw the water 
 foaming through the chute. The pilot steered 
 directly for the opening, the raft running 
 swifter and swifter as it approached it. 
 
 "Now, take care of your oar, Pheelim," said 
 the pilot, and " don't let it be caught in the 
 swirls, when the raft plunges below." 
 
 The swirls are eddies formed by the raft, as 
 it plunges into the water at the bottom of a 
 chute, and which will sometimes break oars 
 when caught in them. . 
 
 The raft slightly dipped as it went through 
 the opening, and then, as it shot down the 
 chute and dipped its forward end deep in the 
 water below, it seemed to be covered with 
 foam. The water flew high above their heads, 
 and fell in thick spray upon the raft, almost 
 wetting them through. The boys upon the 
 dam yelled and hurrahed, and the people 
 shook their handkerchiefs and cheered. 
 
 But Pheelim, forgetting the advice of the 
 pilot, or confused by the flying water, let his 
 oar drop into the swirls; and so quickly was it 
 flung around, that he was thrown into the 
 water. The boys ran to the edge of the raft, 
 and, as he rose, grasped his hands and helped 
 him upon the raft. 
 
 " Faith, that was the greatest kick I ever 
 had," said he, blowing the water from his 
 mouth and nose. " That oar laped like a hoss, 
 and the next moment kicked, and I warn't 
 where I was at all, but just somewhere else." 
 The pilot and the boys laughed heartily at 
 the ludircous figure he made, in spite of the 
 danger he had been in. 
 
 They had passed the bar all right, and in a 
 little while they reached Pine grove, where 
 they found Mr. Norton with the rafts. Here 
 they tied up, and went on shore to find a pilot 
 to take them through the rapids. 
 
88 
 
 AMONG THE RAFTSMEN 
 
 *' IT IS TOO LATE NOW," CRIED THE PlLOT. Page 92. 
 
 AMONG THE RAFTSMEN, 
 
 *BY FRANK H. TAYLOR. 
 / 
 
 IV. RUNNING THE RAPIDS. 
 
 THE bank where the rafts were tied was 
 covered with raftsmen when the boys 
 landed. The pilots and owners of the rafts 
 stood by themselves, talking of the market and 
 lumber, while the younger raftsmen formed a 
 group by themselves, where they were testing 
 the superiority of each other's muscle in box- 
 ing and wrestling. Most of these latter were 
 young men of about eighteen or twenty, living 
 in neighboring towns on the head-waters of 
 the creek. They had often met in these sports, 
 at elections and town meetings, before, and 
 now wished to gain more honors, or retrieve 
 lost ones, over their old rivals. 
 
 The boys strolled up to the group of young 
 men to see the sport. A ring was formed by 
 the spectators, and in this the actors were 
 struggling. The "best men " from two rival 
 villages were matched against each other in a 
 wrestle, which is the favorite sport of boys or 
 men on the river. The excitement is intense 
 as the wrestle proceeds, and now one and then 
 the other seems to have the advantage; and 
 when at last one gains the victory, he is cheered 
 lustily by both friend and rival. But he must 
 
 hold his position as victor of the ring by 
 wrestles with the best man from each village 
 represented among the rafts. The man who 
 is victor in the last contest is termed " bully," 
 his prowess is reported to the other rafts, and 
 at each place of landing he will be called on 
 in a wrestle. 
 
 The boys watched the sport until the pilot 
 called to them, and said they must have a pilot 
 to run the rapids. 
 
 " Can't you run it?" asked Laurie. 
 
 "No; I have not been through them for 
 some time; and it is best not to risk it," said 
 the pilot. 
 
 "Where can we find a pilot? "asked Laurie. 
 
 " Come with me, and I will show you," said 
 the pilot. 
 
 They walked down to the creek, and the pi- 
 lot led them towards a group of men stand- 
 ing there. 
 
 " Get one of those," said he, " and we will 
 start pretty soon, as we have rested long 
 enough." 
 
 " I'll attend to it, "said Laurie, who had done 
 most of the business since they started. 
 
 As Laurie neared them he was struck by their 
 strange appearance. They were dressed in 
 poorer clothes than raftsmen usually wear; 
 they wore moccasons, and there was a crin- 
 ging appearance about them which Laurie did 
 
AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 
 
 89 
 
 not like. But what seemed to him the most 
 singular was their color. It was not black 
 enough for negroes, and, besides, their hair 
 was long and straight. 
 
 "Indians," thought Laurie, as he came 
 nearer. 
 
 And in spite of his manliness he was a little 
 afraid of them as he remembered the stories 
 he had read of " the cruel red man." 
 
 He stepped up to one whom he thought the 
 best looking, and asked him if he was a pilot. 
 
 " Ugh, me pilot," said the Indian, in broken 
 English. 
 
 " What's jour price?" 
 
 "You give me, how much?" 
 
 " One dollar." 
 
 Wrestling among the Raftsmen. 
 
 " No enough. Me take two." 
 
 " No, you won't. I can't give you but one," 
 said Laurie, who knew the price usually paid. 
 
 "No; me take one and half," said the In- 
 dian. 
 
 " I'll find some one else, I guess," said Lau- 
 rie, turning away. 
 
 "Me take it," said the Indian, following him. 
 
 "Come on, then," said Laurie, leading the 
 way to the raft, where the pilot and boys were. 
 
 "Did you ever run the rapids?" asked the 
 pilot of the Indian. 
 
 " Yes ; I run him much," responded the In- 
 dian. 
 
 "What's your name?" 
 
 "John Halfmoon." 
 
 "He's all right, boys; I've heard of him," 
 said the pilot. 
 
 "Where do these Indians live?" asked 
 Laurie. 
 
 "At their reservation on the Alleghany. 
 They have some land set off for them by the 
 government, where they live under their own 
 laws and chiefs. Most of them have good 
 houses, and are quite wealthy. They are the 
 best pilots we have on the river, knowing every 
 turn and rock ; and they have a native-born 
 coolness in danger." 
 
 Pheelim soon came down to the raft; they 
 then cast off, and began pulling into the 
 stream. A number of other rafts were also 
 pulling out at the same time, and the stream 
 seemed to be covered with lumber. Some of 
 the rafts coming from up the stream, having pi- 
 lots on board who could run the rapids, did not 
 tie up, but attempted to run by those which were 
 tying up or pulling out. One of these, which 
 contained four pieces, and was heavily loaded, 
 struck against a light one, which was at that 
 moment pulling out, crushing in the boards 
 of the lighter one as if they were sticks, and 
 crowding it down upon the rafts below it. The 
 next raft was the one belonging to the boys, 
 which was also pulling out, and below this 
 was one tied to the shore. The two rafts were 
 but a few rods above them, and bearing down 
 swiftly. 
 
 "There'll be a stave here, if we're not care- 
 ful," said the pilot, as he saw the rafts bear 
 down upon them; " and unless we get clear 
 of this one below, it will be all day with us." 
 
 " Pull, pull ! " said the Indian ; " maybe me 
 get clear." 
 
 " We can't do it," said the pilot, as he saw 
 the rafts were bearing down too swiftly for 
 their escape. 
 
 He turned to the raft below him. There was 
 but ten feet of water between the two rafts, 
 and those above them were already within 
 that distance. He saw that if their raft was 
 caught between them, it would be crushed like 
 a cockle shell. 
 
 " We're in for it, boys," said he. " Now, 
 take care of yourselves. The moment the 
 rafts touch, spring upon the one tied to the 
 shore, and run for the bank." 
 
 " Me save it," said the Indian, picking up an 
 axe. " You pull, pull like everything, and me 
 all right." ' 
 
 As he said this, he sprang over the inter- 
 vening space, upon the raft which was tied to 
 the shore, and ran across it to where the cable 
 was fastened. This he severed with one quick 
 
AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 
 
 blow of the hatchet, and darted back to the 
 raft. The pilot saw the Indian's plan, and 
 telling Pheelim to pull his best, exerted all his 
 strength upon the oar. Being thus loosened 
 from the bank, the lower raft swung down with 
 the current, and just in time, for the rafts 
 above were already within a few feet, and 
 there was still danger of a collision. This was 
 prevented, however, by the Indian, who grasped 
 a long pole as he sprang upon the raft, and 
 placing it against those above, began push- 
 ing. This example was followed by the boys, 
 and by their united efforts the raft was soon 
 clear. 
 
 But below them the creek was still filled for 
 nearly a mile with rafts, and there was con- 
 stant danger of a collision as they passed 
 along. The Indian pilot, however, was perfect- 
 ly cool, and had not seemed excited even when 
 danger appeared most imminent. He gave 
 his orders in a single word, or with a gesture ; 
 and the boys, who had become somewhat 
 excited during the above scene, were quite 
 cool as they watched him. Several times they 
 bumped against other rafts, and once struck 
 so hard as to start the boards, and rouse the 
 boys' fears. 
 
 " I'm glad that's through with," said Sam, 
 as they passed the last raft. " A fellow didn't 
 know whether he was rich or not while run- 
 ning through there." 
 
 " But here comes something worse yet," said 
 the pilot. 
 
 "What's that?" 
 
 "The rapids. Don't you see how much 
 swifter the water runs ; and you can see down 
 below there that it is full of bars and rocks." 
 
 " How far is it like that?" 
 
 " All the way to Warren, about eight miles, 
 and we can run it in an hour." 
 
 "Why, that's almost a mile in seven min- 
 utes," said Laurie. 
 
 " Yes ; and as we are the first over this sea- 
 son, we must be more than usually careful." 
 
 The water was clear of rafts below them, as 
 they were the first to pull out, and just behind 
 them came Mr. Norton's rafts. The water was 
 quite high, as it must be to clear the bars, 
 rocks, and islands, of which the river seemed 
 to be full. Every few rods the raft would be 
 pulled to the right or left, and they would 
 glide by some bar of sand, or a rock which 
 almost reached to the surface. The men were 
 kept pulling all of the time, and the boys now 
 and then lent a helping hand at one of the 
 oars. Besides these rocks and bars, the sur- 
 face of the water was covered with lumber, 
 creek rubbish, and floating trees. In places 
 
 islands were covered with water, and the trees 
 growing upon them looked as if standing in 
 the middle of the river. 
 
 " These are hard places to run," said the 
 pilot, as they passed one of the islands, where 
 the boys could see the bank within a few feet 
 of the raft. "The water very often moves 
 parts of the land, with the trees, into the chan- 
 nel where we usually run, and we must find 
 new channels." 
 
 " There's one ahead that looks as if it was 
 across the creek," said Laurie, pointing to a 
 tree standing almost in their course. 
 
 " It does look like it," said the pilot. " I'll 
 ask the Indian. Isn't that a change in the 
 current, John?" 
 
 No enough. Me take two. 1 
 
 We run it 
 
 "Looks so," said the Indian, 
 down." 
 
 "What's he going to do?" asked Sam. 
 
 " He thinks he can run against it and knock 
 it down," said the pilot. " The roots are 
 probably loosened by the water, and at the 
 rate we are going we can run it under. There 
 are bars on each side, so we can't turn out." 
 
 The tree was a small one, not more than a 
 foot through, but was thickly branched. It 
 was submerged for three or four feet, and 
 leaned slightly down the stream. The Indian 
 stood on the forward end, and coolly gave his 
 orders, running straight to the tree. The raft 
 struck it with great force, toppling it over, and 
 
AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 
 
 9 1 
 
 bearing it down under the waters. The boys 
 could hear the branches scraping and scratch- 
 ing on the bottom of the raft, as it went un- 
 der, and then it rolled up behind, completely 
 loosened from the earth. 
 
 Mr. Norton was piloting the raft behind 
 them, and as he saw the tree rise up within a 
 few feet of him, he attempted to pass by pull- 
 ing to one side. The tree caught upon a sand- 
 bar, and was rolled up by the force of the wa- 
 ters until the branches and greater part of the 
 trunk were out of water, while the roots were 
 still submerged. In the attempt to pull the 
 raft aside, it swung around, and caught 
 broadside upon the tree near its middle, 
 
 "Me save it." 
 
 and the next moment it broke apart where 
 the pieces were coupled together, throw- 
 ing the lumber and shingles into the creek. 
 One of the pieces thus broken apart floated 
 down in the direct channel, while the other 
 stuck on the bar. Mr. Norton was upon the 
 floating piece, and began to catch the lumber 
 which had been thrown into the water, while 
 those upon the bar commenced unrafting, 
 throwing the boards into the creek, to be 
 floated down until they could be drawn ashore 
 and rafted again. 
 
 "What will father do with his raft?" asked 
 Sam. 
 
 " Run it to Warren, and wait until the other 
 piece is rafted. He can run it down with 
 
 one oar, and a board for a rudder," said the 
 pilot. 
 
 They were now nearly through the rapids, 
 and the boys were congratulating themselves 
 upon the security of their raft. They were 
 sittingupon the shingles talking of their plans, 
 when the raft struck a bar with a shock that 
 sent them, shingles and all, rolling upon the 
 raft. 
 
 "What's up?" said Laurie, springing to his 
 feet. 
 
 " Stuck on a bar, I guess," said the pilot. 
 
 " The raft has stopped entirely," said Sam, 
 " and those other rafts will be running into us." 
 
 " Maybe we can get it off before they get 
 here," said the pilot. " If it isn't on too hard 
 we can pry it off." 
 
 "This new one, never here before; but we 
 get off," said the Indian, as he commenced 
 pulling off his moccasons. 
 
 " Off with your boots, Pheelim. And you, 
 boys, can help us," said the pilot. 
 
 The boys undressed their feet, rolled up their 
 trousers, and picked up some of the hand- 
 spikes that had been put on board. The wa- 
 ter was not over two feet deep here ; and the 
 boys were soon beside the men in the water. 
 
 " Suppose you couldn't pry the raft off," said 
 Sam ; " what would you do then ? " 
 
 "Unraft it, or, perhaps, only take the shin- 
 gles off, and make it lighter." 
 
 " But some of the rafts would run into us by 
 that time," said Clare. 
 
 " And maybe that would shove us off," said 
 the pilot. " But if the raft goes off in a hurry, 
 you boys must spring for it, or you may be 
 left on the bar." 
 
 The raft had run on to the bar some dis- 
 tance, and they found it hard to move it; be- 
 sides, the sand was too soft to make a good 
 fulcrum. 
 
 " This will never do," said the pilot, after 
 they had worked some time. "We must try 
 some other means." 
 
 " Why can't we shovel the sand away? " said 
 Laurie. "We might use pieces of boards as 
 shovels." 
 
 "Just the thing," said the pilot. 
 
 They provided themselves with pieces of 
 boards, and using them as shovels, they soon 
 cleared away a large space beneath the raft. 
 
 " Now use the boards for levers," said the 
 pilot. "Now, all ready. Yo, heave! and off 
 she goes ! " 
 
 The last lift started it, and it floated off, all 
 springing upon the raft but Sam. He had been 
 too slow, and before he could gather himself, 
 the raft was too far for a leap. 
 
AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 
 
 "That's an unceremonious leave-taking," 
 said Sam, as the raft floated away. " Halloo ! 
 ain't you going to take me on board?" 
 
 "It's too late now," shouted the pilot. 
 " Your father's raft will take you off in two 
 minutes." 
 
 " But I shall drown ! " shouted Sam. 
 
 " Can't we get him?" asked Clare and Lau- 
 rie, who began to be afraid he might be 
 drowned, although they had laughed when 
 they first saw him left on the bar. 
 
 "The water isn't deep enough to drown him," 
 said the pilot. "And you see his father's raft 
 is already in sight, and will reach him before 
 we can. Stand where you are, and you're all 
 right," he shouted to Sam. 
 
 "Well, I've heard of shipwrecked sailors on 
 islands before now, but I don't believe the 
 island was under water. But the water is 
 growing cold, and there is no earthly place to 
 repose here," said Sam, as he retreated to the 
 highest point of the bar, which was only two 
 or three inches under water. 
 
 Mr. Norton's single piece was now close to 
 the bar, and Sam waded out as far as he could 
 to reach it. 
 
 " What does this mean ? How came you 
 here?" asked Mr. Norton, as he pulled Sam 
 upon the raft. 
 
 " Circumstances over which I had no con- 
 trol," said Sam, laughing at the thought of 
 his adventure. 
 
 He then told Mr. Norton of their accident, 
 and how he happened to be left. 
 
 " Well, your clothes are no* wet; so I guess 
 you won't catch cold ; but you had better wrap 
 yourself up," said his father. 
 
 Sam wrapped himself in his father's great- 
 coat, and sitting down upon the raft, soon felt 
 as well as ever. 
 
 The boys' raft reached Warren without any 
 more accidents, and Sam found them on the 
 raft waiting for him. Mr. Norton immediately 
 began coupling his rafts together, and making 
 everything ready to start on the morrow. The 
 rafts were built three pieces wide and twenty- 
 one long, with three bars at each end. Near 
 the centre of these rafts their house, or shantv, 
 was built, consisting of a single room, and 
 with wooden bunks on the sides, filled with 
 straw, for sleeping-places. The shanties upon 
 those rafts where there were ladies were divid- 
 ed into two apartments. 
 
 The boys made arrangements to couple their 
 raft with some of Mr. Norton's; their own 
 pilot was to run it, and Mr. Norton was $o 
 furnish the men for the whole raft. The boys 
 were to run it as their own until there was a 
 
 chance for a sale. Their raft was soon coupled, 
 a shanty built, and everything ready for a start. 
 A large number of rafts had now come in, 
 and they reported nearly a dozen rafts stove 
 on the rapids. This statement was soon veri- 
 fied by the lumber which came floating down 
 the creek. 
 
 "What's up?" 
 
 The men were busy all that day catching 
 their timber and rafting their broken rafts. 
 The boys worked with the men, assisting any 
 who needed help, and doing good service in 
 catching lumber. They became well known 
 among the raftsmen as the boy lumberers. 
 They took their honors, however, quite coolly, 
 although they talked it over at night before 
 they went to sleep, and told each other what 
 they had heard the men say of them through 
 the day. 
 
AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 
 
 93 
 
 LAURIE AND Miss COATES IN THE WATER. Page 96. 
 
 AMONG THE EAPTSMEN, 
 
 BY FRANK H. TAYLOR. 
 
 V. ON THE RIVER. 
 
 THE bovs were awakened the next morn- 
 ing by the pilot knocking at their door. 
 
 " Get up, boys. We're all ready to start 
 now," said he. " Be lively about it." 
 
 They hastily dressed, and went down stairs, 
 where they found the pilot awaiting them. 
 
 "What's the hurry this morning?" asked- 
 Laurie. 
 
 " We want to pull out before any of the oth- 
 er rafts start," said the pilot; "then we shall 
 have the way clear before us." 
 
 They found a boat waiting for them by the 
 bank, and a boatman, which the pilot had 
 hired. The bank of the Alleghany was lined 
 for miles with rafts, that had been coming in 
 all night, both from the creek and river. Upon 
 each of these a shanty had been built, and in 
 most of them a fire was burning, the whole 
 scene looking like a village on the water. 
 
 "Why, how many rafts are there here?" 
 asked Clare, after they had rowed some time. 
 
 " I guess they'd cover nigh ten or twelve 
 acres," said the pilot, and that's the reason we 
 want to start early, to get clear of the jam." 
 
 " What if some one else should try to be as 
 sharp as you? " said Laurie. 
 
 "I wouldn't say anything agin it; but I'd 
 do my best to beat 'em," said the pilot. 
 
 " Yon's one looks as if 'twere goin' out," 
 said the boatman. 
 
 "Jerusalem! it is! " said the pilot. " Hus- 
 tle up. Here, let me help." 
 
 The pilot took one of the oars, and bending 
 to their task, the two men sent the boat flying 
 through the water. 
 
 " Here's another sharp one,'' said the pilot, 
 as they passed a raft where the men were un- 
 tying, and getting ready to start. "There's 
 more sharp ones than usual this spring; but 
 we'll beat them all yet." 
 
 " But where's our raft? "asked Laurie, as 
 they passed the place where it had been left. 
 
 " We dropped it down below here last night 
 after dark," said the pilot, " so as to keep it 
 clear of the others." 
 
 They found the hands on their raft all ready 
 to start, and only awaiting their arrival to 
 shove off. 
 
 " Now be lively, boys," said the pilot. 
 " There are several rafts up above us that are 
 pulling out, and each thinks he is first, and 
 that the others are fast asleep." 
 
 " We're all ready," said one of the hands. 
 
94 
 
 AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 
 
 The cables were cast off, and the raft once 
 more began to move. This one was the low- 
 est, and the boatmen had no trouble in steer- 
 ing clear of the shore, and were soon in the 
 middle of the current. 
 
 " There come the others," said Sam, as they 
 swung out, and could see the fires on the rafts 
 up the river. 
 
 ** Half of them will be pulling out before 
 daylight," said the pilot. " so as to be first, and 
 have it to brag of." 
 
 " How can you tell the way to steer here? " 
 asked Laurie. 
 
 " I tell by the echoes partly ; but we usually 
 run by watching the mountain-tops. We can 
 guess our position by them." 
 
 The boys soon went into the shanty, and ly- 
 ing down upon the bundles of straw, they slept 
 until daylight. Then one of the hands came 
 in, and began to prepare breakfast. They had 
 none of the culinary articles which are necessa- 
 ry to a good kitchen. There were a frying-pan, 
 a kettle, a coffee-pot, and a tea-pot, for cooking, 
 with tin plates and cups. 
 
 "When I first went down the river, we 
 didn't have any dishes to eat from," said the 
 cook, who was known by the nickname of 
 Brad among the raftsmen, " and only one ket- 
 tle to do our cooking. We would take a shin- 
 gle for a plate, and our jackknives for forks 
 or table-knives. But we had splendid times." 
 
 " I should think this would be dry living 
 by the time we reach Cincinnati," said Laurie. 
 
 "You'll be hankering after something else, 
 I guess, before we're through with it," said 
 Brad. " But we'll make it a little better by a 
 lark." 
 
 "A lark what's that?" asked Sam. "Do 
 you have larks on the river? " 
 
 " A lark is when we take a little walk on 
 shore, to rest ourselves, and pick up any stray 
 chickens or turkeys that we find wandering 
 around, for fear they may lose their way, and 
 wander off and die." 
 
 " I should think that was pretty near steal- 
 ing," said Clare. 
 
 " We don't call it so. It is only our mark 
 of respect for the inhabitants. Why, you see, 
 they cheat us if we buy anything of them, and 
 we take their fowls to pay for it." 
 
 *' But don't they ever make a fuss?" asked 
 Laurie. 
 
 "What's the use? They know that they 
 have cheated us, and they expect we will try 
 to be even with them. One fellow brought 
 some eggs on board to sell one day, as we were 
 tied up near his place. We bought them ; there 
 was nigh about twenty dozen; but when we 
 
 come to cook them, there wasn't a dozen good 
 eggs in the whole lot. We pulled out that 
 night, and took about half of his hen-roost with 
 us. Breakfast's ready. Get your cups and 
 plates, and take hold and help yourselves." 
 
 The men now came in to their breakfast, 
 with the exception of two or three who steered 
 the raft. Each took his plate of "victuals and 
 cup of coffee or tea, and ate his breakfast 
 wherever he found it most convenient. The 
 boys enjoyed this novel way of eating, and did 
 not grumble about their victuals, although 
 they were not cooked in the best style, and the 
 coftee was decidedly unsettled. 
 
 The hired Boatman. 
 
 For miles below Warren the river ran be- 
 tween high mountains, covered with woods 
 and bushes. There was not much of interest 
 in these, save once when the boys saw two deer 
 running around a spur of a hill. Finally, oil 
 derricks began to appear upon the bank of 
 the river, where old oil wells had been drilled, 
 which were now dry. Then Tidioute, with 
 its many derricks and oil tanks, burst upon 
 their view. 
 
 " It's a dirty-looking hole," said Clare, as 
 they passed the village. 
 
 " It looks as if it had been drownded in oil 
 some day, and then repeopled," said Sam. 
 
 " That is the general look of the oil regions," 
 said the pilot. 
 
 At dark they made preparations for tying up. 
 
AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 
 
 95 
 
 One end of the cable was made fast to the raft, 
 and the other put into a boat and rowed ashore. 
 A man then took the cable, and ran along the 
 shore until he came to a convenient tree, around 
 which he gave the cable two or three turns, 
 and then held to the-end of it. When the ca- 
 ble was straightened so that it began to slip, 
 he unwound it, and ran to another tree. This 
 was repeated several times, until the speed of 
 the raft was slackened, and it was drawn ashore, 
 where it was made fast by cables. Several 
 rafts came down and tied by the side of them 
 during the night. The boys paid them a visit, 
 and found, to their surprise, that Mr. and Mrs. 
 Norton were upon one of them. The cabin 
 on this raft was furnished far better than their 
 own, and was nearly as comfortable as their 
 kitchen at home. 
 
 A Lark. 
 
 The next morning they " tied loose," as the 
 raftsmen say, and were on their way by day- 
 light. 
 
 "We had better slick up a little to-day," 
 said the pilot, " and put on our Sunday neat- 
 ness." 
 
 " Why so? Tisn't Sunday," said Clare. 
 
 " I expect we shall have visitors to-day." 
 said the pilot. 
 
 " Visitors ! " said the boys ; " whom do 3-011 
 expect?" 
 
 " Somebody usually gets on- at Oil City for 
 a pleasure ride down the Alleghany. Some- 
 
 times a whole family, with several boys and 
 girls, will ride with us ten or twelve miles, and 
 then come back on the cars." 
 
 Oil City was now in sight, and as they neared 
 the large bridge which spans the river, they 
 saw a boat pull out from the shore loaded with 
 ladies and gentlemen. 
 
 " There are our visitors, I guess," said the 
 pilot. 
 
 " Halloo ! " shouted somebody from the boat ; 
 "will you take some passengers? " 
 
 "Yes," shouted the pilot; " come aboard." 
 
 The boys saw there were several young la- 
 dies of about their own age in the boat, and 
 hastened into the cabin to make themselves 
 more presentable. 
 
 " These are the owners of the raft," said the 
 pilot, as the boys came towards the place where 
 he was talking with one of the visitors. 
 
 The gentleman, whose name was Coates, 
 was somewhat confused as the pilot introduced 
 them, and looked as if he expected some kind 
 of a joke. 
 
 " I am very happy to meet you, young gen- 
 tlemen," said he; " but isn't that a little joke 
 of the pilot's about your owning the raft? " 
 
 " No, sir," said Laurie, laughing; " we are 
 owners of a part of the raft, and the remain- 
 der is under our command." 
 
 "You are quite young for lumbermen, "said 
 the gentleman ; " but you seem to have been 
 lucky so far. Allow me to introduce you to- 
 your other visitors." 
 
 These were a lady, the wife of Mr. Coates, 
 his son of sixteen, and his two daughters of 
 about fourteen. The boys blushed very deeply 
 as they were introduced to the ladies as own- 
 ers of the raft, and especially Laurie, who had 
 been struck with the beauty of one of the young 
 ladies. Laurie appointed himself a guide ta 
 show the visitors about the raft, and in his ex- 
 planations soon found himself separated from 
 the others, and strolling about with the young 
 lady who had so much attracted him. 
 
 They were now approaching the Franklin 
 Bridge. Under this the water ran with great 
 swiftness, and it was known as a bad place 
 among the pilots. The pilot had not been as 
 watchful as usual, his attention being attracted 
 by the visitors, and the raft was in danger of 
 striking against the pier as they neared it. By 
 quick pulling the forward end was swung clear 
 of the pier, but they were not so successful 
 with the stern. It swung around and struck 
 the side against the pier. Laurie and Miss 
 Coates were standing upon the edge of the 
 raft as it struck, too interested to notice their 
 danger. So quick was the shock that they 
 
9 6 
 
 lost their balance, and, in spite of their ef- 
 forts, were thrown into the water. Laurie 
 grasped her as they struck the water, and man- 
 aged to keep both her and himself above the 
 surface. Their cry for help as they sank had 
 startled the men on the raft, and already two 
 ropes had been thrown to him. One of these 
 he grasped, and was speedily drawn on board 
 with his fainting burden. 
 
 " She must be carried ashore immediately," 
 said Mr. Coates, as he grasped his daughter. 
 "Here! a boat quick!" 
 
 The boat of the raft was brought to the side, 
 and two of the raftsmen entered to row it. 
 
 " Excuse me, Laurie,'' said Mr. Coates, as 
 he was stepping into the boat, " excuse me. 
 I had forgotten, in the anxiety of the moment, 
 even to thank you." 
 
 " And I," said Mrs. Coates, extending her 
 hand. "Accept my heartfelt thanks for your 
 noble deed." 
 
 "Why, I couldn't help it," said Laurie, 
 blushing as he took the proffered hand, and 
 not knowing what else to say. " I was in, and 
 of course it was natural to save her." 
 
 " And God bless you for it. I cannot ex- 
 press my gratitude now, but you shall hear 
 from me again. Good by, good by," said Mr. 
 Coates, as the boat shoved off. 
 
 " Highly romantic, very well performed, and 
 bliss and happiness must eventually follow," 
 said Sam, as Laurie sat in the cabin drying 
 his clothes. 
 
 " There, please don't say any more," said 
 Laurie. 
 
 " But how does it feel to be in such a place? 
 Did you think you was a hero, and saving 
 your future wife, as they do in story books ? " 
 persisted Sam. 
 
 " O, shut up," said Laurie. " Here comes 
 a fellow to sell us something. I'll go and 
 make a purchase." 
 
 " Look out, or the young rascal will cheat 
 you," said the pilot, as Clare and Sam were 
 bargaining with him. 
 
 "Here's a chicken; he can't cheat us on 
 that," said Sam; " and these eggs, too." 
 
 "You'd, better try the eggs," said one of the 
 hands. 
 
 " You may try 'em," said the seller. 
 
 "Yes, they're good," said Sam. "We'll 
 take a couple dozen." 
 
 The boys bought their provisions, and the 
 boatman was pulling off, when one of the men 
 asked him if he had any whiskey. 
 
 " Yes," said he, producing a bottle. 
 
 The raftsmen drank nearly half the con- 
 tents, and then declared it was not fit to be 
 
 AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 
 
 paid for, and told the boy never to come on 
 board again. 
 
 " But I want my pav," said the boy. 
 
 " Get out," said the raftsmen ; and he started 
 away. 
 
 When several boat's lengths from the raft, 
 he shouted, 
 
 "I guess you don't make much by that bar- 
 gain, if you did get the whiskey. Better try 
 your chicken and eggs before you cook 'em." 
 
 " That's some joke," said one of the men ; 
 " let's see your chicken." 
 
 "That ain't a chicken," said the pilot, as 
 they produced their purchase. " You're beat." 
 
 "What is it?" asked the boys. 
 
 Meals on the European Plan. 
 
 " It looks more like an owl than anything 
 else," said the pilot, " and that's what 'tis. 
 They've picked it clean as a chicken, and I 
 don't wonder you were fooled." 
 
 The boys now tried their eggs, and found 
 only one good in the two dozen. 
 
 " Well, that's a sell, sure," said they, a little 
 discomfited at their trade. 
 
 " Well, we're about even," said Brad. " He 
 lost his whiskey, and you your money." 
 
 They tied up that night in Miller's Eddy, and 
 were soon surrounded with rafts. These were 
 so thick that the boys could walk on them for 
 some distance up and down the river. It 
 looked like a little city of Irish shanties sud- 
 denly sprung up on the water, each with its 
 
AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 
 
 little garden patch around it. A number of 
 the rafts had violins on board, and the sound 
 of these, joined with the songs of the men 
 and the gay laughter of the different parties, 
 rang over the water. The boys strolled among 
 the rafts for some time, enjoying the romantic 
 scenes, and the wild songs and dances, which 
 were joined in by the whole crew. The In- 
 dians, of whom a large number were among 
 the rafts, added to the sport by their dances, 
 many of which have descended from their old 
 war dances, and are now only seen in this 
 peaceful form. 
 
 The boys had hardly fallen asleep that night 
 when they were awakened by the shouts of men 
 and the snapping of cables. They rushed out, 
 and saw that the rafts near them were in mo- 
 tion, and drifting down the river. The men 
 were yelling, pilots shouting orders, and the 
 whole scene was the wildest confusion. Their 
 
 "You're beat." 
 
 own raft was between several others, and was 
 borne by them out into the river. 
 
 " What does all this mean ? " asked the boys 
 all at once. 
 
 " We've been broken loose by a timber raft," 
 said the pilot, who was putting forth all his 
 efforts to extricate the raft. 
 
 The boys could see a large raft, built of heavy 
 timbers, among the others, which was not there 
 before, and this seemed to be crowding its way 
 through to the shore, breaking loose the other 
 rafts, and crowding them aside. The men were 
 
 97 
 
 pushing the rafts apart, and throwing off ca- 
 bles fastened to their own. Several of the 
 rafts went ashore, or were stove upon the rocks 
 with which the eddy abounded. By skilful 
 management the boys' raft was got clear of 
 the others, and they started out into the dark- 
 ness down the river. 
 
 "Aren't you going to land?" asked Sam. 
 
 " No, I dare not try it; it would be too dan- 
 gerous," said the pilot. 
 
 "Where did that raft come from that broke 
 us loose?" asked Laurie. 
 
 " From up the Alleghany. It is built of 
 solid timbers, and is heavier than ours. I've 
 seen 'em do the same thing before run into 
 a lot of rafts to stop themselves, and break 'em 
 loose. It's mighty dangerous running in the 
 night, and we may expect to stave any min- 
 ute; but may be we'll be lucky enough to get 
 through." 
 
 The men stood at their oars all night, only 
 now and then catching a nap in the intervals 
 of pulling. Several times they were on the 
 point of staving on a rock which could not be 
 seen in the darkness, and they did not escape 
 without several hard bumps. 
 
 When the boys awoke in the morning, they 
 saw the river had widened, and that the bank 
 was lined with cultivated fields and white cot- 
 tages. Far down the river they saw a heavy 
 cloud of smoke rising, and spreading out like 
 a pall. The boys asked the pilot what it was. 
 
 " It's the smoke in Pittsburg. That's the 
 blackest city in the United States. They have 
 so many furnaces and iron works that they keep 
 a perfect cloud of smoke over the city, and fill 
 the air with coal dust." 
 
 Soon the piers of the bridges were in sight, 
 seeming a perfect network, through which the 
 boys thought it impossible to run. But the 
 pilot understood the current, and they were 
 soon through the bridges. The raft ran six 
 or seven miles below the city before it found a 
 place to tie up, so thick were the rafts. 
 
 The raftsmen went to sleep, and the boys 
 went up to Pittsburg, by a steamboat, where 
 Laurie found a letter for him, which he very 
 carefully kept from the boys. But they said 
 it was postmarked Franklin, and they believed 
 it was in a feminine handwriting. 
 
9 8 
 
 AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 
 
 THE PURSUIT. 
 
 AMONG THE EAFTSMEN. 
 
 BY FRANK H. TAYLOR. 
 
 VI. FORAGING CONCLUSION'. 
 
 AT Pittsburg the rafts were again coupled, 
 two of the Allegheny pieces making one 
 on the Ohio. The boys, however, did not 
 couple their raft. They had concluded to run 
 it single, as it was as safe, and there were 
 none of Mr. Norton's to which they could 
 couple it. New hands were hired to take the 
 place of those who were to return for another 
 trip, fresh provisions were put on board, and 
 the next morning the boys pulled out. 
 
 On the broad Ohio the men found it easy 
 work to run the raft, and reclined lazily at 
 the oars. The boys either lay upon the boards 
 in the warm sunshine, or strolled about the 
 raft, watching the passing steamboats. 
 
 "What would happen if we should run into 
 one of those steamboats?" said Laurie. 
 
 *' We should have to help the passengers 
 out of the water, I'm thinking," said the 
 pilot. , 
 
 "I should think they would be more apt to 
 help us out," said Sam. 
 
 " O, no ! They are very careful to keep out 
 of our way. If a raft, or flat-boat, as they 
 
 call it, should strike one of those steamers, it 
 would crush in its side as if 'twas a scow. 
 You'll find that everything on the river keeps 
 out of the way of a raft." 
 
 The boys found that river life grew monot- 
 onous upon the Ohio, as they floated idly 
 along each day. There was none of the 
 dangers and sudden mishaps which they had 
 met on the Allegheny, but pleasant weather 
 and only a little work. The men grew irrita- 
 ble, and wished for something to turn up, no 
 matter what it was ; even a smash-up would be 
 preferable to this listlessness ; anything that 
 would cause a disturbance and make a little 
 excitement. 
 
 "This is fearful dull," said the man who 
 was nicknamed Brad, as they tied up one 
 night. They rarely tied up at night; but as 
 it was more dangerous than usual below them 
 that night, they had concluded not to run. "I 
 wish something might happen," continued 
 Brad ; " even a fight would be a luxury." 
 
 " Well, s'pose'n we stir up something," said 
 his mate at the oar. 
 
 What do you say to a raid to-night?" said 
 Brad. 
 
 "Good! be a jolly night for it. Darker'n 
 pitch, and the wind blowing loud enough to 
 drown all noises." 
 
AMONG THE RAFTSMEN 
 
 99 
 
 "What's a raid?" asked Sam, who, with 
 the other boys, was sitting by them. 
 
 "It's what I explained to you once as a 
 lark," said Brad; "a little walk on shore 
 after eatables, you know. We call it by any 
 name that happens to come easy. They call 
 us raiders, and so we say, when going out, 
 that it is a raid." 
 
 " S'pose we go to-night," said the other 
 raftsmen. 
 
 "All right. Don't let none of the other 
 men know it, and we'll dig out about mid- 
 night. How would you boys like to go?" 
 said Brad, turning to them. 
 
 " I'll go," said Sam, who was ready for any- 
 thing. 
 
 "I'll see what the pilot says," said Laurie. 
 " If he thinks it's all right, I'll go." 
 
 "Tell him not to let it out to the other 
 men," said Brad, as the boys started to speak 
 to the pilot. 
 
 "Yes, go on," said the pilot, when the boys 
 told him of the lark. "You won't come to 
 any harm, that's sure; for the men don't go 
 off for any bad purpose. It's more for excite- 
 ment than anything else, and it'll do you 
 good to have a tramp." 
 
 "I guess I won't go," said Clare, who didn't 
 relish the long walk. "I'll stay here, and 
 help eat the chickens you get." 
 
 The boys teased Clare to go ; but he refused, 
 and they finally started off without him. The 
 party consisted of Brad, and his chum, and 
 the two boys. Each carried a grub as a 
 weapon of defence against any dog that might 
 beset them. The night was so dark that they 
 could not distinguish objects a rod ahead of 
 them. They struck off directly across the 
 lots, climbing fences, tumbling into ditches, 
 and running into swamps. It seemed to the 
 boys as if they ran into every mud-hole that 
 could be found on their journey. After walk- 
 ing about an hour, they stopped to rest, sit- 
 ting down on a log. 
 
 "I'm pretty tired," said Sam, "and my feet 
 are dripping wet. I went over boots "into a 
 ditch, and filled them with mud and water." 
 
 "And I've torn my trousers," said Laurie, 
 "and bumped my knee, lost my hat a couple 
 of times, and found it once down in the mud, 
 where I'd stepped on it, and almost pushed it 
 out of sight." 
 
 " O, you'll get over all that in five minutes," 
 said Brad. " We'll rest a while, and then 
 make a roundabout way back to the raft, and 
 I guess we'll light on some farm-yard." 
 
 They soon started back on a different course, 
 and had accomplished about one half the dis- 
 
 tance, when Sam suddenly stopped, and said> 
 " Hark! I thought I heard a sheep bleat/' 
 
 They listened, and soon the &ound was re- 
 peated. 
 
 "Yes, here we are right close to a barn- 
 yard," said Brad. " Now be cautious, and 
 keep together." 
 
 They walked carefully towards the barns, 
 which could now be seen ahead of them, and 
 finding the gate, they were soon insi.de the 
 barn-yard. 
 
 "Now we must find the hen-roost," said 
 Brad, " and then each man load himself. 
 Don't make much noise." 
 
 "Now run, boys." 
 
 " Here it is," said Sam, as he thrust his 
 stick into a small house by the side of the 
 barn, and an unmistakable cackle came from 
 the inside. 
 
 " There are turkeys here, also," said Brad, 
 as he and the boys clambered inside, leaving 
 the other men outside to watch. Brad had 
 only caught the first turkey, when the sentinel 
 thrust his head in at the door, and whispered, 
 " Clear out, Brad ; here comes some one ! " 
 
 " Grab a chicken, boys," said Brad; "we'll 
 have something to show for our tramp." 
 
 The boys each grabbed a chicken, and 
 sprang out of the house. 
 
 "Now run, boys," said Brad; "keep close 
 to our heels ! " 
 
 "Thieves! thieves! Bring the dogs!' 
 
100 
 
 AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 
 
 shouted some one behind them; and then 
 came the sound of pursuing footsteps. 
 
 "Ka-yow! ka-yow!" jelled the chickens, 
 which the boys were dragging along by one leg. 
 
 "Confound those chickens," said Brad; 
 " wring their necks ! " 
 
 But the boys were too scared, and the sound 
 of footsteps too near, to allow them to stop to 
 do that; so the chickens yelled on, the boys 
 dragging them along head downwards. 
 
 " Let those chickens drop ! " shouted Brad ; 
 " they'll follow us as long as they can hear 
 those yells ! " 
 
 "Thieves! thieves!" 
 
 Sam dropped his load; but before Laurie 
 could obey, an unseen accident happened. 
 There was a dry, open ditch in their course, 
 and into this Laurie fell, smothering the last 
 note of the chicken under him. The others 
 fell partly into the ditch, but quickly clam- 
 bered out, and hastened on without missing 
 Laurie. He was stunned by the fall, and lay 
 a few moments without moving. When he 
 came 'to his senses, he heard voices close to 
 him, and the yells of men. He concluded 
 they were the voices of his pursuers, and lay 
 still until they had passed. He then rose up, 
 and looked around. He was alone, in a 
 strange place, with men hunting after him, 
 and not knowing which way to go. He finally 
 concluded to follow on in the direction the 
 others had gone. 
 
 Just then the chicken gave a reviving squall. 
 "Halloo! you alive yet?" said Laurie. "I 
 guess I'll take you along with me, since I have 
 had so much trouble in getting you." He 
 tucked the chicken's head under his coat to 
 keep it still, and trudged on in the direction 
 the others had gone. His head ached where 
 he had bumped it as he fell into the ditch, his 
 feet were sore from the long tramp, his legs 
 ached where he had struck them against logs, 
 and his clothes were torn and muddy. 
 
 " I've had enough of going larking," said 
 he, as he slowly plodded along. "It looks a 
 little too much like stealing, and a fellow don't 
 get enough to pay him for his bruises. I'll 
 bet you don't catch me in another such scrape 
 right off." 
 
 Laurie soon heard the pursuers returning, 
 and hid himself behind a fence. He heard 
 enough of their conversation, as they passed, 
 to learn that they had not caught any of the 
 party. After they had passed, Laurie came 
 out of his hiding-place, and trudged on again, 
 stumbling through the darkness, and wishing 
 he was safe on the raft. 
 
 " Halloo ! " suddenly shouted some one close 
 beside him. 
 
 " Halloo, yourself! " shouted Laurie in re- 
 turn. 
 
 " Is that you, Laurie ? " said the voice, which 
 he now recognized as belonging to Sam. 
 
 "Yes; how came you here, Sam? Where 
 is the rest of the party?" 
 
 " They've gone on to the raft. I got so 
 tired, I couldn't run any longer, and Brad told 
 me to crawl into these bushes, and stay around 
 here until morning, when they would come 
 back. I saw those fellows who were after us. 
 They came down here, and turned around, and 
 went back." 
 
 " When did you miss me?" 
 
 "About half a mile back. We reckoned 
 you had hid somewhere to rest, and then, when 
 I heard you coming along talking to yourself, 
 I knew it was you, and so I hailed." 
 
 "We can't find the raft to-night; so we had 
 better find a place to sleep, and stay here until 
 morning." 
 
 "We passed an old barn a few rods back. 
 We'd better go there and find a sleeping- 
 place." 
 
 The boys soon found the barn, and crawled 
 inside through a window. 
 
 " Here's hay," said Sam ; "we can have as 
 good a sleeping-place here as we could on our 
 bunks of straw." 
 
 " What shall I do with this chicken to keep 
 it safe until morning?" 
 
AMONG THE RAFTSMEN, 
 
 101 
 
 "Let it go; we've had trouble enough with 
 chickens." 
 
 Laurie threw the chicken out of the window. 
 The boys then burrowed into the hay, and 
 were soon fast asleep. They awoke the next 
 morning at daylight, their bruises sore, and 
 themselves stiff with wounds. Laurie's head 
 still ached, and their clothes presented a sorry 
 sight.' 
 
 " I feel about fifty years old," said Laurie, 
 as he crawled out of the hay. 
 
 "And I feel nigh a hundred," said Sam, 
 going to the window to see their whereabouts. 
 * Halloo, Laurie ! I can see the river. It isn't 
 more than half a mile away." 
 
 The boys immediately started for the river, 
 and, after half an hour's walk, reached the 
 raft. They found the men astir, and Brad 
 was starting in search of them. 
 
 "Where are your chickens?" said Clare, as 
 the boys entered the shanty. 
 
 "Never you mind," said Sam; "they're 
 where you won't eat them." 
 
 The boys spent the remainder of the day in 
 nursing their wounds and bruises. This lark 
 quite effectually broke up all thoughts of lark- 
 ing. Only one other attempt was made, and 
 the originator of that came to grief in quite 
 an unexpected manner. 
 
 The raft had been tied up about an hour be- 
 fore daylight, to give the hands a chance to 
 rest. A farm-house stood upon the bank not 
 more than a hundred rods from the raft, and 
 Pheelin said he could get some chickens from 
 there, and get back again before daylight. 
 
 He found the hen-house, but could find no 
 entrance, except a small window, through 
 which he could hardly squeeze his body. 
 Nothing daunted, Pheelin tried the window, 
 and squeezed half of his body through, when 
 he began to reach around in search of tne 
 chickens. His legs outside were kicking 
 around in the air, and they soon drew the at- 
 tention of a buck, which was confined in the 
 yard. He took their evolutions as a sign of 
 battle, and, backing up, he charged, striking 
 Pheelin in the rear, and causing him to disap- 
 pear through the window with uncommon 
 quickness. 
 
 " What was that? Shoo, there ; now don't 
 hit me agin. Who is the man that dare strike 
 a defenceless man unawares?" shouted Pheelin 
 out of the hen-house. But there was no an- 
 swer. He cautiously stuck his head out of 
 the window, and, looking around, he saw the 
 sheep. "And was it you, you dirty blackguard 
 that hit me? But I'd like to give you ahitwid 
 me shillelah. What, hain't you going to le 
 
 me out? Shoo, now, don't be foolin'," said 
 r'heelin, as, attempting to climb out, he saw 
 he sheep make unmistakable signs of another 
 charge. Pheelin was now in a fix. Every 
 attempt to scare the sheep away was unavail 
 ng, and whenever he attempted to escape by 
 the window, the sheep commenced hostile mo- 
 tions. It was nearly daylight, and the farmer 
 would soon be out to attend his chores. Phee- 
 in was getting "unaisy," when a happy 
 thought struck him. He saw that the yard 
 fence only came to the corner of the hen- 
 house ; so, should he knock off a board on this 
 side, he could crawl out, and be outside of the 
 yard. After a dint of hard kicks, a board was 
 knocked off, and Pheelin ingloriously retreated 
 through the hole, and started on a run to the 
 raft without his chickens. 
 
 "Is that you, Laurie?" 
 
 When the raft came to Marietta, a number 
 of gentlemen came on board of it with Mr. 
 Norton, among whom was Mr. Arlington, 
 whose shingles they were running. Mr. Nor- 
 ton had gone on ahead of the rafts to sell the 
 lumber. 
 
 " Here is a purchaser for your lumber, 
 boys," said Mr. Norton. 
 
 "But I thought we were to run it to Cincin- 
 nati," said the boys. 
 
 "You can get as much for it here as to run 
 it farther, and many of the rafts stop here." 
 
 "I have sold my shingles here, boys," said 
 
102 
 
 AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 
 
 Mr. Arlington, " so that you need not keep 
 your lumber back on my account." 
 
 "How much have you sold your lumber 
 for?" asked the boys, aside, of Mr. Norton. 
 
 " Twenty-eight dollars a thousand, and five 
 dollars for shingles." 
 
 "Do you wish to sell your lumber?" asked 
 one of the gentlemen, as the boys walked to- 
 wards them. 
 
 "Yes, sir," said Laurie. 
 
 "What is your price?" 
 
 " We ask twenty-eight dollars a thousand." 
 
 "You are rather high, I fear." 
 
 "No, sir; I think that is the usual price." 
 
 "I will give you twenty-seven and a half." 
 
 "No, sir; we have no lumber to sell at that 
 price," replied Laurie, firmly. 
 
 " I'll give you a quarter more." 
 
 "No use; our price is twenty-eight dollars." 
 
 " You can't beat them down," said one of 
 the gentlemen, who was pleased with Laurie's 
 firm answers. 
 
 Pheelin uneasy. 
 
 The bargain was finally made, and tne money 
 paid. 
 
 Mr. Norton had sold the other part of the 
 raft; so the hands all landed, and made prepa- 
 rations to return home. 
 
 The money had been paid to the boys, who 
 hardly knew what to do with so much. They 
 paid Mr. Norton his half, paid off their men, 
 and divided the remainder atrong themselves, 
 
 when they found that each had the sum of 
 one hundred and eighty dollars. This was an 
 enormous sum in the eyes of boys fourteen 
 years old, and they had the pleasure of know- 
 ing that they had earned it by their own 
 efforts. 
 
 The boys, having finished their business in 
 the lumber trade, started for home, Clare and 
 Laurie returning home with Sam. After stay- 
 ing here a few days, they returned to their 
 own home, where their parents hardly knew 
 the two brown boys as the same that had left 
 them in the winter. 
 
 The boys invested their money where it is 
 constantly increasing, and they talk of return- 
 ing to the lumber trade in the spring. Clare 
 says Laurie has a correspondent in the Oil 
 Regions, and Laurie does not deny it. Should 
 the boys enter into another speculation, you 
 may, perhaps, hear from our young raftsmen 
 again. 
 
THE CAMP IN THE GULCH, 
 
 "The riatta shot forward, and settled on the animal's horns." 
 
 THE CAMP IN THE GULCH, 
 
 I. THE MARCH. THE CAMP. THE 
 LECTURE-COURSE. 
 
 BY JUSTIN DALE. 
 
 ARIZONA, as a word, has become almost 
 synonymous with desert. In speaking 
 of a barren land, if we should say it was an 
 Arizona, there could hardly be a more accu- 
 rate idea of a desert, which was not absolutely 
 a desert, conveyed. For, with its tangled 
 maze of almost unfathomable chasms and 
 gorges, so little penetrated by civilized man ; 
 its endless lines of massive cliffs; its diaboli- 
 cal natives; its desolate wastes of sand and 
 rocks, combined with its burning sun and 
 great scarcity of water, Arizona is, truly, not 
 a realm where the tourist would spend his 
 leisure moments, nor the farmer build his 
 humble cabin. Hence we find that hitherto 
 it has presented few attractions to any but the 
 inquisitive explorer or the eager prospector. 
 
 It was my good luck, at a certain period, to 
 stumble through portions of these very wilds, 
 connected with a band of the former class of 
 those itinerant spirits who first break path- 
 ways into the unknown regions of our globe, 
 who prepare the way for the subsequent intro- 
 duction of civilizatio.i. We were not exactly, 
 
 at the time of which I write, breaking a 
 pathway, as we followed a trail that had al- 
 ready been travelled a number of times by our 
 frontier friends, the Mormons, on their way 
 to and from the seven ancient cities. 
 
 Neither was the sun, this autumn day, very 
 familiar. Indeed, he was so distant in his 
 manners, withdrawing behind the fleeting 
 clouds so frequently, that we really would have 
 thought the stories of his great power in this 
 section unfounded, had we not, at an earlier 
 day, had sufficient proof of his strength. 
 
 In consequence of his reticent mood, you 
 are satisfied, when you catch your first view 
 of our little train, that none of its members 
 are suffering with the noonday heat. To speak 
 more plainly, the day was chill and disagree- 
 able. The time we were making would not 
 have been envied by a Dexter nor by a Gold- 
 smith Maid, as our pack animals, being laden 
 rather heavily, were more disposed to wander 
 from the trail, and, with a half-famished air, 
 snatch up the bunch-grass that grew in abun- 
 dance alongside, than to make any extraordi- 
 nary exertions to get over the ground. Prob- 
 ably they felt that a distention of the stomach 
 was more agreeable to travel on than the 
 vague feeling of nothingness which must be 
 produced by the continual aggravation of a 
 heavy pack and a tight sinc/ie. We could not 
 
IO4 
 
 THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 blame them for stealing a mouthful of the 
 sweet grass now and then ; but, not having 
 had anything ourselves to eat since early morn- 
 ing, we were anxious to arrive as quickly as 
 possible at the anticipated House Rock Gulch, 
 where we were to find plenty of wholesome 
 water, and an abundance of fuel with which to 
 prepare our evening meal. 
 
 To allow, therefore, the jaded brutes to 
 pick along at their leisure, was not the way to 
 end our day's journey and fill our empty stom- 
 achs ; so, in true western style, we held forth 
 an occasional exhortation to the wayward, 
 accompanied by a whack from a good stout 
 stick; and the train was kept moving at about 
 a three-mile gait, while some camp-kettles 
 which had been too loosely tied to " old 
 Dick's " pack, kept up a clang-clang, clang- 
 clang, with such a precise regularity, that it 
 must have astonished the old white plug him- 
 self, even though he had pranced over moun- 
 tain and valley, in his present capacity, since 
 he was introduced from Spain by Escalante. 
 
 Loading the animals. 
 
 Silence reigned supreme, only, once in a 
 great while, when the train was halted to al- 
 low a pack to be " fixed." This readjustment 
 sometimes yes, generally was the entire 
 repacking of the animal; and, in order that 
 you may understand how this packing is done, 
 in regions where it is the only way of freight- 
 ing practicable, I will devote a few words to 
 teach you. 
 
 In the first place, of course, we must have 
 the animal (not always necessarily a quadru- 
 ped, but sometimes an aboriginal biped, though 
 the load is differently applied to these latter), 
 be it horse or mule, and, if your " cayoose" 1 is 
 a ''broncho" (wild, unbroken), the utmost 
 care must be exercised to keep beyond the 
 reach of his fantastic movements. 
 
 Several times on this day had a broncho 
 
 tossed a couple of packers rather roughly 
 among the sage-brush ; but each time they 
 had recovered themselves immediately, and 
 returned to their work. 
 
 Having selected your pack-animal, you want ! 
 a pack-saddle. (See illustration.) This gener- 
 ally has a breeching to it, and sometimes a 
 breast-strap, to prevent the slipping of the pack 
 on heavy grades. It also has a siuche (illustra- 
 tion), made of hair or canvas, which is attached 
 to the saddle by adjustable straps, that com- 
 pletes the circuit of the horse, and holds the 
 saddle firmly in its place. 
 
 On the back of the animal is put a blanket, 
 and on this the saddle is placed, almost in the 
 middle of the back. If you are acquainted 
 with saddling a horse in the " States," j-ou 
 know that the saddle is placed high up on the 
 withers, and the girth drawn close to the fore- 
 legs the English style; hard on the horse, 
 and hard on the rider, on successive long days' 
 journeys. "Out west," however, as I have 
 said, the saddle is put fairly on the back, and 
 the sinche not girth drawn over the middle 
 of the belly. Thus, as long as the sinche is 
 kept tight, the danger of galling the back by 
 long rides, or heavy packs, is almost wholly * 
 avoided. 
 
 When your pack-saddle, then, is in its prop- 
 er position, you must draw the sinche up so 
 tight that, were it done in New York, Mr. 
 Bergh would be instantly after you, with the 
 whole outfit of T. S. F. T. P. O. C. T. A. 
 This tight sinching is absolutely necessary, 
 for, though a little cruel, upon it depends the 
 preservation of your horse's back. 
 
 Upon the saddle the pack is hung in various 
 ways by various persons, and over it is thrown 
 a blanket or a piece of canvas. Then the 
 " lash-rope " at one end of which is a sinche 
 similar to the one on the saddle, but supplied 
 with a large wooden hook is applied. This 
 is done in a number of ways, but the one gen- 
 erally adopted is that known as the " miner's 
 diamond," or " diamond hitch," receiving its" 
 name from the fact that when the lashing is 
 completed, a part of the rope forms a diamond 
 on top of the pack. 
 
 The rope in position, and everything ready, 
 it is " tightened up" after this manner. One 
 packer on the " off" side places his foot 
 against the brute's ribs, beneath the pack, and 
 draws up on the portion of the rope running 
 through the hook, while the one on the " nigh " 
 side hauls in the slack over the top. The rope 
 is then passed round the corners, pulled and 
 tightened until the pack seems part of the 
 horse, and, to conclude, the end is firmly se- 
 
THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 '05 
 
 cured. He is packed. All that remains is to 
 step back and let him go. If he has been in 
 the business long, he knows it is policy to fall 
 in the line of the train, and stay there. 
 
 Sometimes a pack will get loose unperceived, 
 or through negligence, and then a horse that, 
 perhaps ten minutes before, was so meek and 
 jaded he seemed ready to lie down and 
 rest, bounds instantaneously into energetic ac- 
 tion. Frantically he prances around, and 
 performs somersets and double-action feats 
 worthy of an accomplished acrobat, freely 
 distributing to all points of the compass an 
 endless variety of frying-pans, camp-kettles, 
 coffee-mills, and articles of a similar charac- 
 ter, till, relieved of his tormenting pack, he 
 stops. He was "bucking" that was all. 
 Rather an airy accomplishment that western 
 horses have. Woe to the foor rider who 
 mounts a prize bucker.* He finds oiit his 
 mistake without much difficulty, and climbs 
 into the air, out of reach, pretty quick. After 
 our pack-bucker has stopped, he turns, slyly 
 winks at his companions, and, with a vicious 
 relish, drinks in the scene of devastation. 
 
 Mournfully we gather up the scattered val- 
 uables, and, replacing them upon the gentle 
 creature's back, draw the lash-rope so very 
 tight that, as he moves off to join the impa- 
 tient caravan, his every step causes him to 
 give a most melancholy grunt, that serves in 
 a measure to atone for his work of desolation. 
 
 Our train held steadily on its way towards 
 the Kibab Plateau, or Buckskin Mountain, 
 which extends like a huge barrier across the 
 western sky, from the angle of the Vermilion 
 Cliffs on the north far into the hazy south, 
 broken only at one point by the Grand Canon 
 of the Colorado. 
 
 It seemed, from the direction of our trail, 
 that our gulch must be a branch of some hid- 
 den valley of the plateau. But it appeared 
 such a long way off, and the bright spot in 
 the clouds marking the sun was already far 
 down towards the horizon. I hoped it was 
 not there. The snow, too, set in bold relief 
 the tall pines, and it all looked so cold and 
 dreary for a camp ! We had not our supply 
 of winter clothing yet, and the impudent snow- 
 flake that flitted before me felt like an icicle. 
 
 But what right had an explorer to think of 
 discomforts? Was it not his lot? There were 
 dead pines among the others that would make 
 noble fuel, and the blaze would dance and 
 crackle as it reminded us of last night, when 
 we huddled close around the flashing brush- 
 
 * Don't get the idea from this that men ride on the packs. 
 They don't. 
 
 fire, now chilled by the searching winds, un- 
 broken by a single obstruction, and anon 
 quickly drawing back to escape the fierce con- 
 flagration of a fresh supply of brush, and 
 finally retiring to our cold blankets for com- 
 fort and protection. 
 
 My reflections, however, were superfluous, 
 for the trail began to verge to the north, and, 
 as we neared the plateau, we turned the angle 
 of the cliff", towering close on our right, en- 
 tering a long, gutter-like valley, about three 
 miles wide, lying between the cliffs and the 
 plateau. It was House Rock Valley. We 
 must, then, be near the gulch and the famous 
 House Rock, from which the valley, and gulch, 
 and spring had derived their names. 
 
 Pack Saddle. 
 
 Hair Sinche. 
 
 Lash-rope Sinche. 
 
 The Vermilion Cliff's were full of gulches, 
 and we looked momentarily for the trail to 
 turn into one of them, though, from their gen- 
 eral aspect, one would not have looked there 
 for water. They lost some of their forbidding 
 impressions, however, as we became more ac- 
 customed to the ruggedness, and as the vege- 
 tation surrounding began to change from the 
 stunted sage-brush and grease-wood to strag- 
 gling cedars gathered in groups here and there 
 in the valley, the distant ones appearing, in 
 the duskiness, like hobgoblin troops the 
 spirits of the ancient inhabitants guarding 
 their desert kingdom from invading footsteps; 
 and at our nearer approach the grim senti- 
 nels stretch out their ragged arms in silent 
 remonstrance. 
 
 Unheeding, the train moves on, and the 
 long, drear, " siwish " of the night-wind, sweep- 
 ing down the valley and through the dark fo- 
 liage, sounds strangely like a solemn warning. 
 
 Presently the cedars grow thicker, and 
 
io6 
 
 THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 pinon (pin-yon), or nut-pines, are inter- 
 spersed. As many of both are dead, prospects 
 of a rousing camp-fire are brilliant indeed. 
 We pass, close to the foot of the cliffs, two 
 large rocks, which have fallen from above, 
 and now rest in such a manner that there is 
 quite a space between them a little cave, as 
 it were. Under the projecting upper edge of 
 one rock I could just read, " Rock House 
 Hotel," inscribed with charcoal. So it wasn't 
 much of a house rock, after all ; and, as I 
 wondered who, out of the rude frontiersmen, 
 had felt the touch of romance, we rode into a 
 gulch, and stopped. It was the Gulch of Hou&e 
 Rock Spring. 
 
 The animals were immediately unpacked 
 and unsaddled, and soon found their way to a 
 basin of pure water, where they satiated them- 
 selves. The pool was fed by a stream about 
 two inches wide, spurting from a crevice in 
 the rocks, and we rejoiced that we had such 
 an unfailing supply. 
 
 The camp-kettles were brought up, and car- 
 ried back overflowing. Everybody washed, 
 was refreshed, and felt as though they could 
 make a desperate assault on the supper, which 
 was already in rapid progress over a roaring 
 fire. Even our two sick men were thawed out 
 by the cheering warmth, and felt amiableonce 
 more ; one experienced so much comfort that he 
 remarked on the blessings of a bountiful camp. 
 
 Our situation, with everything around to 
 make it comfortable, was appreciated. We ate 
 our supper by the flaring light of a huge pine 
 log, and then the two invalids retired in the 
 best of moods. 
 
 While four of us were to remain at the 
 gulch, it was decided that the rest, with the 
 sick men in charge, should go across the pla- 
 teau, forty miles, to the settlement. So, early 
 the next morning, in order that all might par- 
 ticipate, if necessary, a bullock that we had 
 driven for several days was brought up from 
 the valley, and cornered back of camp, ready 
 for slaughter. Our gladiator, in the shape of 
 the " General," advanced bravely, and levelled 
 his old " Henry " fairly at the brute's head. 
 
 " Crack," the piece went, and the " critter," 
 with a snort, bounded for the valley. The 
 bullet had lodged in the base of the horns. 
 But provision had been made for this emer- 
 gency. A vayuero, mounted on a lively old 
 horse, charged after the truant steer with 
 lariat circling in air; and, as they rose on the 
 brow of a neighboring hill, the riatta shot 
 forward, and settled on the animal's horns. 
 Our beef was brought up, and, after a slight 
 struggle, reluctantly returned. 
 
 A second time he was arranged for sacri- 
 fice. He was a gentle creature. His large, 
 solemn eyes gazed mournfully on the General 
 as a second "crack" re-echoed through the 
 gulch, and, with a low moan, he sank to the 
 ground. Four tempting quarters soon hung 
 on a convenient pine, and supper found us 
 enjoying a steak fresh and tender. 
 
 This evening was to be the last, for some 
 time, with our companions who were going 
 over the mountain, and the last for years 
 perhaps forever with one, tried and true, 
 who was soon to breathe the balmy zephyrs 
 of the Orient. 
 
 Lounging around the fire, we chatted over 
 bygone days of adventure, and of that time 
 which danced, ignis-fatuus like, so far ahead 
 in the misty future when we, too, should 
 pass from the Pacific slope, until the smiling 
 moon, riding over the edge of the cliffs, warned 
 us to bed. 
 
 The night was cold, very cold for torrid 
 Arizona, the thermometer in the morning 
 indicating -f- 10 degrees. We slept as well as 
 our scanty supply of blankets would permit, 
 the sick men getting along very comfortably. 
 My only distinct recollection was an insane 
 attempt I made to throw a small cactus, which 
 I mistook for a stone in the combination of 
 moonlight and drowsiness, at a prowling 
 coyote. My fingers became entangled in the 
 spines, and I hesitated. I thought I had never 
 seen anything so hard to pick up as that cac- 
 tus. The coyote, meanwhile, with a hateful 
 sniff, trotted off, and I, after disengaging my 
 fingers, turned in again, half frozen. 
 
 Unusually early in the morning breakfast 
 was ready and disposed of. The packs were 
 put on, and all mounted but the General, the 
 Captain, and the " Pirate." These three, to- 
 gether with myself, were the company to re- 
 main. 
 
 The Deacon had the inflammatory rheuma- 
 tism. He had it bad. He had it so very bad 
 that, in his helpless innocence, he could do 
 nothing but sing at the highest pitch of his 
 melodious soprano, to drive away the melan- 
 choly thoughts of dying, and being " plant- 
 ed " by the trail-side, 
 
 " There'll be-e no sorrow there, 
 There'll bc-e no sorrow there ; 
 In heaven above, where all is love, 
 There'll bc-e no sorrow there." 
 
 Whenever he travelled at all, he had to ride, 
 
 and so he would have to ride up the side of 
 
 the plateau. The climb was a sharp one, and 
 
 the horse would be tired out; so I had to go 
 
 i along (my luck) to bring him back. 
 
THE POND. 
 
THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 109 
 
 When we reached the foot of the mountain, 
 the most gradual rise was selected, and, after 
 a deal of hard scrambling, the summit was 
 gained, where all were willing to take a rest. 
 A half mile back from the ascent, the Deacon 
 was transferred from Thunderbolt to " Old 
 Doc," a staid and pensive steed. Then I bade 
 them all a final farewell, and turned towards 
 the verge of the plateau, with my cayoose in 
 tow. As I walked along, the Deacon's sono- 
 rous voice echoed through the timber, 
 
 " O, Doc! please, Doc, won't you go?" 
 
 I presumed that Doc had got to studying 
 geology, as the train moved over the exposed 
 strata; but I did not for a moment imagine 
 that he would disregard such an entreaty. It 
 wo.uld have moved an orang-outang to tears. 
 
 From what followed, I concluded that Doc 
 was possessed of a hard heart, that had been 
 deaf to the Deacon's gentle tones ; also that 
 the latter had forgotten there would be " no 
 sorrow there," for he produced a paragraph of 
 persuasion, which, crashing like a whirlwind 
 through the stout branches, actually made old 
 Thunderbolt's teeth chatter. It was a tri- 
 umph ! There was no room for a doubt, and 
 I passed out of hearing, satisfied that as an 
 exhorter the Deacon was a grand success. 
 
 Emerging from the timber, I stopped to 
 contemplate the view. First, far away in the 
 north, could be seen the end of the Poun-saw- 
 gunt plateau, followed by Table Mountain 
 with its vertical, pink face, and intervening 
 the broken lines of cliff. 
 
 Further to the east came the sharp peak just 
 to the right of Table Mountain, and the long 
 line of regular cliffs, swinging round to the 
 Navajo Mountain, which loomed up majesti- 
 cally in its solitary grandeur ; while peeping 
 over the top of these clrffs were the five snow- 
 white peaks of the unknown range, lying close 
 to the Dirty Devil River. Between me and 
 the cliffs were House Rock Valley, the Ver- 
 milion Cliffs, the Pa Ria Plateau, the narrow 
 canon of the Pa Ria River, and avast expanse 
 of broken desert. To the south was the long 
 line of the Kibab, ending in a mass of rugged 
 crags; and an expressionless stretch of weary 
 desert, separated by the narrow but deep gorge 
 of the Colorado. 
 
 All was but bitter desolation. There was 
 something fascinating about the view; but to 
 call it beautiful was impossible, for beauty 
 seems to imply charming softness and regu- 
 larity of outline a view, for instance, which, 
 instead of crushing one, by its grandeur, with 
 an overwhelming realization of his own in- 
 significance, breathes upon him a soft, ethe- 
 
 real zephyr, that melts all the harshness of 
 his worldly spirit into rapture, and transports 
 his soul towards an aesthetic throne. 
 
 The scene before me was not one of this 
 kind. It was stern and cold. It reflected the 
 brilliant sun with an unchecked fierceness. 
 The dazzling glare of innumerable colors 
 stunned me. The dark gorges seemed threat- 
 ening to swallow me up, and the ragged peaks 
 to toss me to the sky. I felt lonely. For re- 
 lief, I gazed with my glass towards the gulch, 
 to see just one sign of reassuring life; but the 
 film of blue smoke that usually marks a hidden 
 camp was dissolved in the shimmering haze. 
 
 Like a frightened boy, I concluded I wasn't 
 wanted around there, and started for " home. ' 
 I went down- the trail, with Thunderbolt 
 
 A Coyote annihilated. 
 
 leading behind, and had gone but a few feet 
 when I found that this broncho, like the gen- 
 erality of western horses, had a will of his 
 own. He didn't believe in going down hill 
 without calculating every. footstep; that is, he 
 didn't believe it till I convinced him of the 
 folly of his ways with a Spanish bayonet. 
 
 When I arrived in camp once more, I found 
 my companions busy pitching a four by eight 
 observation tent close to the fire. After it was 
 stayed and guyed thoroughly, the captain cov- 
 ered the ground inside with the dry, sweet- 
 scented canes from the spring. Upon these 
 our blankets were spread, and then we stepped 
 back to admire the institution, which pervaded 
 the entire gulch with such an air of comfort. 
 
 As darkness settled once again over the val- 
 ley, and a delicious odor was wafting to any 
 one, but especially to the hunger-stricken coy- 
 ote (ky-o-ty), from the beef sputtering over 
 the fire, a chorus of the latter saluted us from 
 out in the valley. 
 
no 
 
 THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 Boys," exclaimed Cap., ** I'm going into 
 
 ic fur business! Coyote skins are pretty 
 good now, and I'm going to trap enough to 
 make a robe." 
 
 And the first thing the next morning Cap. 
 built a wolf-pen beween a couple of isolated 
 rocks, and setting his six-shooter, baited the 
 trap, so that any sneaking specimen of a coy- 
 ote, attempting to silence the pangs of his 
 gnawing stomach, would be annihilated in- 
 stantly. 
 
 Perhaps some of my younger readers think 
 that we should have taken the war-path against 
 the grizzly, or some other fierce favorite of 
 the far west, instead of trapping coyotes. But 
 they must remember that the west is an exten- 
 sive region, and one doesn't stumble on a 
 grizzly behind every bush. Besides, the sec- 
 tion we were in was most gloriously free from 
 any wild animals but wolves and jack-rabbits, 
 and a few timid deer. You see, then, it would 
 have been a long hunt for a grizzly. The 
 deer were so scarce that we saw but a track 
 now and then; and the rabbits we didn't want. 
 Nothing remained but coyotes; and every- 
 body is ready to take vengeance on them. 
 
 We knew wistful eyes gazed longingly, by 
 moonlight, at our beef in the tree. It was a 
 clear case of sour grapes ! We resolved, com- 
 passionately, to remove a portion of the meat 
 by " jerking" it. In connection with western 
 life, you have often read of jerked meat, yet, 
 possibly, do not know how it is prepared ; so 
 I will tell you the manner of our proceed- 
 ings. 
 
 To begin with, the General went to work and 
 built a scaffold, and when that was finished, 
 we lowered three quarters from the pine, and 
 cut the meat off in long, thin strips. These 
 we dipped in brine, and then strung on slim 
 willows. The willows were next laid on the 
 scaffolding in such a manner that the strips 
 of meat swung clear beneath. In this posi- 
 tion they were exposed to the heat of the sun, 
 and also to that of a fire. The mercury, in 
 the daytime, being above the freezing point, 
 this combination of drying forces had a tell- 
 ing effect. 
 
 We deduce, then, the conclusion that jerk- 
 ing meat is simply drying it in thin strips by 
 the agency of the sun, or the sun and a fire, 
 in order to preserve it in a compact form for 
 future use. 
 
 Upon this quantity of beef we spent much 
 labor, and lost the whole of it shortly after; 
 had to stand guard over it one night to pre- 
 vent the coyotes devouring it as they had every 
 fragment of the entrails. 
 
 We were seldom disturbed at night in OUT 
 quiet gulch by anything but the discharge of 
 Cap.'s pistol, indicating the decease of an in- 
 vestigating committee of one coyote. The 
 Captain was enthusiastic. At the " bang " of 
 the pistol he would jump up, draw on his un- 
 mentionables with astonishing rapidity, and 
 dash out into the icy night. We three would 
 wake a moment to he real certain that it wasn't 
 a band of Navajoes, performing a cold-blood- 
 ed massacre upon us, and then turn over and 
 go to sleep again. In the morning a skinned 
 coyote invariably hung to the little pine by 
 the fire, a sad but silent witness to its own 
 cruel fate. 
 
 The novelty of camping in the gulch began 
 to wear off. The General talked of building a 
 stone house, but couldn't get anybody to go 
 in with him. At last he gave it up, and, shoul- 
 dering his trusty seventeen-shooter, would 
 spend his days scouting around the vicinity, 
 penetrating the mysterious gulches in the 
 cliffs, and climbing to the romantic spots on 
 the plateau. 
 
 The Captain, as a rule, would repose lan- 
 guidly in the cushioned tent, dreaming of a 
 fair one far beyond the Rocky Mountains, 
 while the Pirate, with me for a companion, 
 would climb the cliffs, and search for speci- 
 mens of pottery and arrow-heads, scattered 
 near and far, from the workshops of our inter- 
 esting ancient Americans, the SJiinomos. 
 
 One evening the Pirate rose and spoke. 
 
 "Boys, these evenings are becoming abso- 
 lutely monotonous. Now I propose, for mu- 
 tual benefit, that we begin a series of lectures. 
 I've been thinking of it all day, and conclude 
 that there is an ample sufficiency of talent. 
 What do you say?" 
 
 " Lectures ! " we exclaimed, surprised. 
 
 " Call them camp-stories, then, if you will." 
 
 "No," put in Cap., "lectures. That's 
 good." 
 
 Then the General spoke, glancing from un- 
 der his broad-brimmed hat with his snapping 
 blue eyes, and spurting a stream of tobacco 
 juice at a live coal which rolled from the fire. 
 
 "Well, gentlemen, I ain't much on this 
 science business don't know much about 
 your sermometers, and threeoddlites, and 'to- 
 pogerphy, and that stuff, but may be I can 
 tell a story. I'll think of it, any way." 
 
 After a consultation, it was decided that the 
 first lecture in the " Rock Spring Course " 
 would be delivered by Mr. ah my Pirate ; 
 subject, "The Saints in the Valleys in the 
 Mountains." From very short hand notes it 
 will be produced next month. 
 
THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 A MORMON BALL. 
 
 THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 IT THE SAINTS IN THE VALLEYS IN 
 THE MOUNTAINS. 
 
 BY JUSTIN DALE. 
 
 SUPPER was over. The gentle breeze 
 creeping through the gulch was cool and 
 bracing, but not strong enough to whirl the 
 smoke of the fire in our faces. And the fire, 
 too, was a fierce one one whose radiance 
 seemed to shut us in from the surrounding 
 darkness, and made us feel, after our hearty 
 meal, indescribably comfortable. Above us 
 arched the celestial dome, glittering, from the 
 myriads of stars, with that icy brilliancy so 
 peculiar to the Rocky Mountain region; while 
 now and then a darting meteor reminded us 
 that the apparently steady mass was an infi- 
 nite number of definite bodies, each one per- 
 forming its movements with a precision more 
 perfect than the most delicate chronometer. 
 And to think that we and our Latter-Day 
 Saints, whom the Pirate would discuss this 
 evening, were mere mites! But here is the 
 Pirate to speak for himself, and break up my 
 reverie. 
 
 He had arisen before the little pine. He 
 rubbed his hands, and began with really the 
 air of a Sumner or a Schurz : 
 
 "Perhaps, gentlemen, you think my title 
 of ' The Saints in the Valleys in the Moun- 
 tains ' a little peculiar; and so, I will admit, 
 it is; but it is taken directly from the good 
 Saints' own speech. Of course you are aware 
 that ' Mormon ' is a name applied to the Saints 
 only by the outside world, on account of their 
 adoption of the writings of one Mormon, the 
 last of a tribe called the Nephites. The title- 
 page of the work of Mormon is, ' The Book 
 of Mormon, an Account written by the Hand 
 of Mormon upon Plates taken from the Plates 
 of Nephi,' then the testimony of the eleven 
 witnesses, ' translated by Joseph Smith, 
 Jun.' Thus 3'ou see why they are called Mor- 
 mons, while they style themselves the Church 
 of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, and in 
 their prayers call upon the Lord to bless 
 them, ' the Saints in the valleys in the moun- 
 tains.' Hence my title. 
 
 "It would take me all night were I to tell 
 you the minute history of the Saints; so I 
 will only quote a few questions and answers 
 from their catechism, in order that you may 
 get an accurate idea of their origin. You will 
 also perceive at once that a portion, at least, 
 of the doctrine is as sound as any ever ex- 
 pounded. Here is the book, which I fortu- 
 nately have with me. It was published at 
 Liverpool, England, in 1855, anc ^ * s edited by 
 
112 
 
 THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 Elder John Jaques. It begins by asking what 
 your name is, who gave it to you, when you 
 were born, &c. 
 
 J^. What duties should you perform? 
 
 A. My duty to God, and my duty to my 
 parents, and to all mankind. 
 
 Q What is your duty to wards your parents? 
 
 A. To love and obey them. 
 
 Q Why should you love and obey your 
 parents? 
 
 A. Because it is a command of God, and 
 because they were the means of bringing me 
 into the world : they nursed and fed me when 
 I was a little babe, and now continually love 
 me, and provide food, clothing, aud lodging 
 for me : they watch over me in sickness, direct 
 me in health, and teach me to be clean, neat, 
 industrious, and orderly, so that when I have 
 grown up I may be useful. 
 
 Q What is your duty to all mankind? 
 A. To love them, and to treat them with 
 kindness. 
 
 Q There are now on the earth a great 
 number of religious societies, each professing 
 to be the church of Christ; which amongst 
 them all is the true church? 
 
 A. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter- 
 Day Saints. 
 
 "I quote next an answer. 
 
 " 'On the night of the 2ist of September, 
 1823, the angel Moroni appeared to him (J. 
 Smith) three times, giving him much instruc- 
 tion, and informing him that God had a work 
 for him to do, which should cause his name 
 to be good and evil spoken of among all peo- 
 ple; also that a record, written upon gold 
 plates, and giving an account of the ancient in- 
 habitants of America, and the dealings of God 
 with them, was deposited in a particular place 
 in the earth, and with the record, two stones, 
 in silver bows, which were anciently called 
 the Urim and the Thummim, and by which 
 God revealed intelligence to his people.'" 
 
 The Pirate read many more, but my space 
 will allow me to reproduce only the follow- 
 ing: 
 
 ^>. Where and when was the Church of 
 Christ organized by Joseph Smith ? 
 
 A. It was organized at Fayette, Seneca 
 County, N. Y., on the 6th of April, 1830, and 
 consisted of six members. 
 
 Q Where will the New Jerusalem stand? 
 
 A. In Jackson County, Missouri, where a 
 temple, the site of which was dedicated in 
 1831, will eventually be built. 
 
 Q After the thousand yeais of peace, what 
 will occur? (This thousand years is the sec- 
 ond advent of Christ.) 
 
 A. Satan will be again let loose among the 
 children of men, and will stir them up to war 
 against the Saints; but he and they who will 
 obey him will be overthrown, and will receive 
 their final judgment. The heavens and the 
 earth will pass away, and a new heavens and 
 a new earth will be created, on which the glo- 
 rified, immortal Saints will live and reign as 
 kings and priests, throughout eternity. 
 
 "You see, then," the Pirate continued, 
 "our actual acquaintance with our sectarian 
 friends begins about the year 1830, when Jo- 
 seph Smith first b<?gan to expound the doc- 
 trines of the Book of Mormon, and was im- 
 mediately dubbed a ' Mormon.' The world is 
 peopled by many vastly different classes ; and 
 it is not surprising that Joseph, aided by his 
 brother Hiram and others, soon succeeded in 
 gaining a permanent foothold. 
 
 "Anxious to get beyond the trammellings 
 of other sects, the Saints settled en masse at 
 Nauvoo. For a time they flourished; but, as 
 they say themselves, without persecution their 
 creed would not conform to its pretensions. 
 Accordingly, persecution gathered about and 
 all at once burst upon them with a fury they 
 could not resist. Joseph and Hiram were 
 seized and thrown into Carthage jail, as dis- 
 turbers of the public peace, to await their 
 trial. 
 
 " Doubtless they would have been dealt with 
 according to the laws; but as certain irregu- 
 lar proceedings gained greater publicity, the 
 fast-growing anger of the unbelievers was 
 fanned to madness. Resolved not to await 
 the action of slow-moving law, but to admin- 
 ister what they considered justice, immedi- 
 ately a mob hurried to the jail, and murdered 
 Joseph and Hiram in cold blood. 
 
 "It was no longer policy for the Saints to re- 
 main in Missouri or Illinois, as every moment 
 they were in danger of extermination. They 
 had no leader; but a young man, a Vermonter, 
 by name Brigham Young, already president 
 of the twelve apostles, placed himself for the 
 time being in Joseph's shoes. He took charge 
 of the whole outfit of Saints, Nauvoo Legion 
 and all, and began to seek a new home for his 
 people. For the Saints it was a * ten-strike.' 
 Probably, of all the men who then believed 
 in Mormonism, or who have since embraced 
 the doctrine, none would have used the clear 
 judgment and good generalship that now 
 give Brigham his notoriety. He perceived 
 instantly that his people must be isolated if 
 
THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 they would prosper. He scanned the horizon 
 for indications of a favorable land. Against 
 the western sky he thought he saw the appro- 
 priate spot, and, very consistently and con- 
 veniently, had a vision of a verdant;, moun- 
 tain-guarded valley, lying to westward, which 
 he related to his followers. Then he took a 
 few picked men, and pushed forward until he 
 saw the valley of the Great Salt Lake, when 
 he returned for his followers. 
 
 "As his selected domain belonged to Mex- 
 ico, he did not anticipate any disturbance ; not, 
 at least, until the Latter-Day Saints had ob- 
 tained so firm a foundation that they could, 
 from their valleys in the mountains, repel all 
 ordinary assaults. 
 
 " Confiding themselves to their God, the 
 Mormons set out on their pilgrimage, and 
 spent the winter of 1846-7 near the present 
 site of Council Bluffs. They left behind sure 
 promises of a return at some future date, to 
 finish the temple which had been begun in 
 Jackson County, and received in return the 
 sneers and curses of the impetuous Missou- 
 rians. They weathered the storms of the 
 winter in truly a miserable condition, all, at 
 one time, almost starving to death. Indeed, 
 they would have quite gone had it not been 
 for an interposition of Providence, who di- 
 rected countless numbers of quails straight 
 through the encampment. 
 
 " With ease the fowls were caught and 
 slaughtered on every hand. The old women, 
 even, rendered by hunger too feeble to move 
 about, reached forth from their wretched beds, 
 and clutching the birds, quickly despatched 
 them. Thus it was with tearful joy that they 
 hailed the invigorating spring-time once 
 again, and started to complete their weari- 
 some march across the western rocks to their 
 promised land. They had accidents, and were 
 beset with innumerable dangers ; but the ac- 
 cidents to individuals were speedily cured by 
 their ' laying on of hands,' by the elders, while 
 voices from above guided their footsteps 
 through paths of safety. 
 
 " Speaking of the laying on of hands reminds 
 me of a story told by Isaac Haight of a cir- 
 cumstance which occurred on the plains. A 
 little boy fell from his father's wagon, and 
 two wheels of the heavy vehicle passed over 
 his chest. He was literally crushed. Many 
 people would have consigned him to death ; 
 but the Mormons were not of that class. They 
 placed the poor little fellow comfortably in 
 the wagon, entreated him to hold his faith, 
 and called a council of elders. Hands were 
 laid on, and reconstruction commenced. As 
 8 
 
 the praying became more powerful, the re- 
 action was greater, until one could plainly 
 hear the bones crack and snap as they assumed 
 their original positions. In a very short time 
 the child was again playing on the wagon- 
 seat, and the caravan pursued its way as though 
 nothing of consequence had occurred. All 
 this " 
 
 " Now, see here, my Christian friend : I hate 
 to interrupt you; but that won't go down. 
 You stifle me. I must have a chance to catch 
 a breath. Ha, ha, ha! " laughed Cap, and we 
 all joined the chorus. 
 
 " Well, boys, I don't care whether you be- 
 lieve it or not ; but those are the very facts that 
 Isaac Haight related, asserting that he was an 
 eye-witness, and that it was but one of a hun- 
 dred, ay, of a thousand, equally miraculous 
 cases which had happened among the true 
 Saints. He stated further, that any one af- 
 flicted could, by having faith, be made whole 
 in a similar manner." 
 
 Brigham Young's House. 
 
 He looked around. 
 
 "Go ahead," said the General; "we've 
 nothing more to say." 
 
 " Then, to proceed: besides the hardships 
 of plains travelling, our pilgrims had to keep 
 a constant outlook for hostile Indians, and be 
 ever ready to check a stampede. One fine 
 day, however (July 24, 1847), they found them- 
 selves beside what is now called City Creek; 
 and, like Columbus and Cortez, and other 
 pioneers, Brigham's first action was to return 
 thanks to the Almighty for their safe arrival 
 in their ' Eden.' (How much it resembles an 
 Eden !) Provisions began to become a scarce 
 article, and they turned their attention to 
 hunting something to eat. They found a 
 species of lily, the bulb of which was eaten 
 by the Indians, and called ' sego.' These grew 
 abundantly, and upon them they depended 
 mainly for food. In addition were a wild 
 cabbage and numerous varieties of ropts and 
 
THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 herbs, which they collected in large quantities, 
 in preparation for the coming winter. 
 
 " They labored unceasingly to get all in order 
 before the winter; but the few short months 
 slipped rapidly by, and, almost before they 
 were aware, cutting blasts swept down from 
 the great Wasatch range, buried under a thick 
 blanket of snow. They quailed some before 
 the dark prospect, though all did their best, 
 until their dogged perseverance, and faith in 
 their revelations and prophecies, carried them 
 through. 
 
 " Before another winter could catch them 
 unprovided, the city by the Great Salt Lake 
 had assumed a definite shape, and the State 
 of Deseret flung its banners to the breeze over 
 Brigham's throne. I say ' throne,' for it was 
 nothing else. Was Brigham now appointed 
 by divine revelation the prophet, seer, reve- 
 iator, president, and glory of the Church of 
 Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, and elected 
 governor of the State of Deseret by his sub- 
 jects aught but a king? Who would dare 
 to question his revelations? Who would dare 
 to utter the slightest hint against the monarch 
 of this theocracy? Some there were, subse- 
 quently, who dared ; and, if we are to believe 
 confessions, the Destroying Angels quickly tied 
 their troublesome tongues. 
 
 " The little settlement rapidly acquired a 
 basis. A stream of immigrants poured in, 
 and one by one the adobe huts shot up in the 
 clear sunshine like toadstools. Prospects 
 brightened. The missionaries in Europe and 
 in the States pictured with charming colors 
 the vast fertile garden in the valleys in the 
 mountains, and hundreds of beings, who could 
 hardly earn their daily bread in the old coun- 
 tries, were enraptured by the glowing picture, 
 and eagerly embraced the creed which should 
 so speedily transport them from their drudgery 
 to an almost earthly paradise. Therefore they 
 came to the valleys in the mountains. Dis- 
 tance had, indeed, lent enchantment to the 
 view, for on closer sight they found no varie- 
 gated garden-land, but a rugged, barren wil- 
 derness. Did not some of them heartily wish 
 themselves back to their old homes ? Possibly, 
 and probably. But, could they have returned, 
 many would not have done so after a few 
 months' residence in Mormondom, for there 
 were no influences to counteract the teachings 
 of the Church, constantly sounding in their 
 ears. The fact was, that they began to think 
 that the doctrines were right, and that this 
 was their destiny. Most of the converts were 
 narrow-minded people, and Mormonism, ap- 
 pealing to superstition, closed about them with 
 
 au unyielding grasp. Thus most of the poor 
 creatures became downright Mormons, simply 
 because they could not help it. They had not 
 the moral power, nor the intellectual training, 
 to resist its supernatural ideas. 
 
 "After the settlement of Salt Lake Valley, 
 scouts were sent out with small exploring 
 parties into the surrounding unknown regions. 
 Sites for new settlements were selected, and 
 gradually the territory began to assume a civ- 
 ilized appearance." 
 
 The Pirate then told how the State of Des- 
 eret was ceded, with other territory, to the 
 United States by Mexico, and was entitled 
 "Utah; "how Brigham was appointed gov- 
 ernor, and served until 1857; anc ^ many other 
 interesting things, which I am obliged to 
 skip for want of space. 
 
 " Until the Union Pacific Railroad poured 
 its flood of ' Gentiles ' into the Mormon realm, 
 something like hatred existed between certain 
 classes. It is asserted that no unbeliever's 
 life was worth much if he uttered a word 
 against Brigham or the Church. Brigham, it 
 is claimed, once delivered a sermon in which 
 he swore that he would send all opposers 
 * cross lots to hell.' To facilitate his move- 
 ments, he organized a band of 'Destroying 
 Angels,' with Bill Hickman at their head. The 
 latter has since made a confession, in which 
 he accuses Brigham of authorizing some of the 
 most diabolical deeds. But there are many 
 reasons for believing that the confession is 
 merely a fabrication, made to sell. At any 
 rate, what would one believe from a man who 
 confesses such cowardly deeds of murder? 
 
 "John D. Lee and Isaac Haight are other 
 Mormons notorious for their alleged wicked- 
 ness. The loathsome tragedy of Mountain 
 Meadows, it is said, was enacted under their 
 direction. Lee boldly asserts that he had 
 nothing to do with it; says he is a kind-heart- 
 ed man, and cried like a child when he found 
 that hisbrethren were bent upon exterminat- 
 ing the audacious Missourians. When we 
 compare this affair with the action of the Mis- 
 sourians against the Mormons in early days, 
 we see that it is but natural that the latter 
 should thirst for revenge. They took ample 
 vengeance! Although Lee claims innocence, 
 he swears he will not be taken, as it would 
 expose members who 'did the deed through 
 their great zeal in serving the Church.' There- 
 fore he is constantly armed with a seven- 
 shooter and a seventeen-shooting rifle; and 
 though I camped by his farm for three weeks, 
 I never once found him off his guard. The 
 click of a gun-lock would draw his eyes in- 
 
THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 stantaneously. Once, when I borrowed his 
 only saddle to ride out to the settlement, he 
 said, as I mounted, 'Tell the boys ' (my com- 
 panions who remained) ' it would be no use 
 to try to take me, for among these rocks I 
 could defy an army.' We could have taken 
 him a hundred times before that; but that 
 wasn't what we were there for " 
 
 Bang! A pistol-shot. 
 
 "There's your confounded wolf-trap ! Let 
 it go now ; I want to go on. Polygamy comes 
 next. As you know, that is the most objec- 
 tionable feature of Mormonism. It does not 
 belong properly to the Book of Mormon, but 
 was an afterthought I mean, a subsequent 
 revelation. For a long time it held its own 
 with all, some of the Saints investing heavily, 
 John D. Lee, of whom I spoke, having had 
 some sixty wives and seventy- two children. 
 As a rule, three or four wives was the maxi- 
 mum. 
 
 " At present polygamy is on the decline with 
 all who care anything about the opinion of 
 the world; but what can you expect of people 
 reared in those valleys in the mountains, 
 where schools are very little known? Think 
 of young men and women who can scarcely 
 write their own names ; never saw a railroad ; 
 don't know whether London or the United 
 States is the bigger, and are taught to believe 
 that those familiar cliffs and mountains are 
 their property, with which the United States 
 government has no right to interfere; and 
 that ' Brother 1 Brigham is the being endowed 
 with unlimited powers, whom they must look 
 up to and worship. And it is not only the 
 younger class who know nothing, but most of 
 the older ones know still less. To be sure, 
 there are some ' smart ' men in Utah, but 
 they are always sure to have a high and lucra- 
 tive position. 
 
 " To outsiders the Mormon women always 
 endeavor to appear cheerful ; but to any one ! 
 who can sympathize with their woes, and gain | 
 their confidence, they will pour forth tales j 
 most awful. ' 
 
 " Many of the writers on the Mormon ques- 
 tion have seen only its bright side in Salt , 
 Lake City and surroundings. One can only | 
 get at the reverse side by travelling south 
 among the poorer classes. Many a wretched 
 woman is sorry enough that she ever left her 
 native land, but she can never return. 
 
 "Some of our Mormon 'brethren' have 
 more wives than they can support, especially 
 if they happen to be constitutionally weak. 
 So the wives have to support themselves, and, 
 if they prove good hands at it, their 'hubbies 
 
 also. Many poor families in Utah live upon 
 green corn, melons, and squashes during the 
 autumn, while at other times they get along 
 the best way they can. Sometimes they have 
 flour and corn meal, and sometimes none. 
 Most of them have cattle, which can graze on 
 'the range,' and therefore cost nothing to 
 keep; so, however poor, if a Mormon family 
 have a cow, they get all the sweet cream and 
 fresh butter they want. 
 
 The Tabernacle. 
 
 " Coffee, tea, and strong drinks are set forth 
 as injurious in the Book of Mormon, which is 
 very convenient for those who cannot afford 
 to buy any. Those who can afford it disre- 
 gard the advice ; those who cannot gracefully 
 accept the other alternative. I always noticed 
 one thing, though, in a certain town where I 
 happened to be once, viz., that if anybody 
 was sick, some one would come and beg or 
 buy coffee, or tea, or sugar from our rations, 
 as no medicines could be found within eighty 
 miles. And if any came to our camp, they 
 would generally drink our tea and coffee to 
 a greater extent than any one else. Wine, 
 too, is made in great quantities in 'Dixie,' 
 and sold or exchanged cheaply, the result be- 
 ing most shameful drunkenness of theyounger 
 people at certain periods, the young men, I 
 mean. 'Dixie,' I would say, is a name ap- 
 plied to the lower valley of the Virgen River; 
 and apropos, I will singyou the song * Called 
 to Dixie,' which I have often sung before, 
 but which will fit in just here first rate : 
 
 Once I lived on Cotton-wood, 
 
 And owned a little farm ; 
 But now I'm called to Dixie, 
 
 Which gives me much alarm. 
 To raise the corn and cotton 
 
 I right away must go ; 
 The reason why they called on me 
 
 I'm sure I do not know. 
 
 I yoked up Jim and Bolly, 
 
 All for to make a start 
 To leave my house and garden, 
 
 Which almost broke my herut. 
 
n6 
 
 THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 We rolled anng quite slowly, 
 
 And often looked behind ; 
 For the sand and rocks of Dixie 
 
 Kept running through my mind 
 
 At last we reached the Black Kidge, 
 
 Where we broke our wagon down : 
 We couldn't find a carpenter, 
 
 For we were twenty miles from town. 
 I cut a clumsy cedar pole 
 
 And fixed an awkward slide ; 
 My wagon ran so heavy 
 
 That Betsey could not ride. 
 
 When Betsey was a-walking 
 
 I told her to take care ; 
 But all upon a sudden 
 
 She struck a prickly pear I 
 Then she began to blubber out, 
 
 AM loud as she could bawl, 
 4 O, if I was back on Cotton-wood 
 
 I would not come at all ! ' 
 
 At last we reached the Sandy, 
 
 Where we could not budge at all ; 
 Poor old Jim and Bolly 
 
 Began to puff and loll 
 I ripped and swore a little bit, 
 
 But couldn't make the route, 
 For myself, my team, and Betsey, 
 
 Were all of us gi'n out. 
 
 At length we reached Washington, 
 
 Where we stopped a little while 
 To see if the April showers 
 
 Would make the Virgen smile. 
 But O, we were mistaken, 
 
 And so we went away ; 
 For the red hills of November 
 
 Look just the same in May. 
 
 I brought this old coat with me, 
 
 About two years ago ; 
 And where I'll get another 
 
 I'm sure I do not know. 
 If Providence protects me 
 
 All from the wind and wet, 
 These times me nor Betsey 
 
 Never will forget. 
 
 My shirt was colored with dock-root, 
 
 A grease-wood for a set ; 
 I'm sure it will all fade out 
 
 If it once gets wet. 
 They say they have fottnd madder, 
 
 And indigo so blue ; 
 It all turned out a humbug 
 
 The story was not true. 
 
 It is so sad and dreary 
 
 There's nothing here to cheer 
 Except prophetic sermons 
 
 We very often hear. 
 They hand them out by dozens, 
 
 Prove them by the Book. 
 I had rather have six roastin' ears, 
 
 And stay at home and cook. 
 
 I have had the chills and fever 
 
 Until I'm almost dead. 
 'Twill be seven weeks next Sunday 
 
 Since I have tasted bread. 
 Carrot tops and lucern 
 
 We have enough to eat. 
 I'd like to have my diet changed 
 
 Tc buckwheat cakes and m-a* 
 
 My wagon went for sorghum seed ; 
 
 To get a little bread, 
 Poor old Jim and Bolly 
 
 Long ago are dead. 
 None are left but me and Betsey 
 
 To hoe the cotton tree. 
 Let Heaven reward you, Dixyites, 
 
 Wherever you may be. 
 
 " You see, then, that all was not lovely in 
 Dixie in early days. The composer of the 
 song is now enjoying his old age in Salt Lake 
 City. Clothing was not as plentiful as it 
 might have been, and I know of one family 
 who even now go barefooted and in rags for 
 nine months out of the year." 
 
 The Pirate then spoke of the mineral re- 
 sources of Utah; the mines, and the miners; 
 reasons why the Mormons did not early work 
 in the mines, &c., all of which I am obliged 
 to omit for fear of crowding my columns. 
 Next, he told of the industry of the Mormons, 
 for which I shall find room. 
 
 " The Saints are generally termed a very 
 industrious people. I will admit that some 
 are, and again I will admit that some are 
 lazier than Digger Indians. They are indus- 
 trious, but not energetic. Those who are en- 
 dowed with energy are sure to be bishops, 
 elders, first counsellors, or something or other, 
 where they will have the handling of the 
 tithing, and are the corner-stones of the 
 church. 
 
 " This tithing is a sort of tax upon each pro- 
 ducer, to defray the expenses of the govern- 
 ment (i. e., the church), and in this case the 
 word means a tenth part of each family's 
 earnings or produce. Thus, if a man raises 
 ten bushels of corn, he must deliver the tith- 
 ing, or one bushel, to the bishop of his (own. 
 From the store thus formed the bishop draws, 
 to entertain any travellers who happen along, 
 as, he being the head man of the town, his house 
 is as a hotel; all strangers are directed to it, 
 as a rule, to * put up.' Almost invariably he 
 gets paid for his services by Gentiles, and it 
 is not surprising that, betwixt it all, a bishop 
 is always the wealthie c t man in a town ; and 
 without difficulty you can single out his house 
 from the others by its greater proportions, 
 finer finish, and better architecture, unless 
 the town happens to be the residence of a 
 * president,' when his house will be the finest. 
 So now, if any of you ever get into a Mor- 
 mon town (as you will soon) where there is 
 no hotel, steer for the best-looking house you 
 see, and you will not miss the bishop's, where 
 you will always find the best to be had. Per- 
 haps a dance will be in progress as you ride 
 up, If :r. is a frontier settlement where they 
 
THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 117 
 
 have no large public buildings; though gener- 
 ally their fandangoes are held in the school- 
 houses and meeting-housesyit being no sin, 
 as dancing is a part of the creed. I will tell 
 you about a dance I went to one Christmas 
 night. It was held in a little stone building, 
 which served as school-house and meeting- 
 house, temple and tabernacle, city hall and 
 a rendezvous for trading Navajoes; it was fif- 
 teen feet by thirty, in width and length, and 
 some twenty feet high. It was situated in one 
 corner of an old fort or stockade ; and its four 
 windows, opening into the arena of the fort, 
 glowed with an inviting brilliancy upon the 
 night in question, when, after our ride through 
 the chill wind, we galloped up. Strains of vi- 
 olins came merrily through the cracks ; flitting 
 brms told that the fun had already begun. 
 Dismounting, we entered. 
 
 "Two sets were all the floor would allow in 
 action at once, and they were skimming 
 around lively enough. All round on seats sat 
 young ladies and youths, old ladies and old 
 gentlemen, with intervening gradations. 
 Each of us received a number, on entering, 
 according to the rules; for as but sixteen per- 
 sons could occupy the floor at once, the male 
 attendants were called up in regular succes- 
 sion by their numbers. You know I am al- 
 ways backward in such dashing assemblages ; 
 so I retired to a corner to watch how things 
 progressed. The room was bare, with board 
 floor and glaring rafters, while across the lat- 
 ter lay a row of muskets, ready for an emer- 
 gency. Darkness was dispersed by three tal- 
 low candles stuck on boards against the wall, 
 a kerosene lamp, and a roaring pine log in a 
 huge fireplace. 
 
 "The violins kept up a constant flow of 
 music, interspersed with 'Ladies, change!' 
 'Gentlemen, forward ! ' and the like, while the 
 dancers, throwingoff all formality, entered into 
 the spirit of the occasion with a vehemence 
 never seen in a fashionable ball-room. Some 
 burly fellows would come in from without just 
 as their numbers were called. The room was 
 warm. They doffed their coats instantly, 
 grasped a partner with a word or two, and 
 away they went, commencing with a bowing 
 salute, varying and indescribable. 
 
 "The fair damsels, too! clad in neat calico, 
 radiant with smiles, their hair anointed with 
 delicately perfumed pomades (butter!) until 
 it resembled patent-leather, and formed on 
 each temple an exquisite * beau-catcher,' with 
 red, vellow, blue, green, indigo, orange, and 
 violet ribbons fluttering in the local whirl- 
 wind, were simply gorgeous. They sailed 
 around like nymphs from fairy realm." 
 
 Then the Pirate told us of the farming fa- 
 cilities, the rivers, the lakes, and the moun- 
 tains of Utah, and concluded with the follow- 
 ing: 
 
 " About 1869, Oron Pratt invented what 
 they call the Deseret Alphabet. The Book of 
 Mormon was printed in it, and it was taught 
 in the schools, with the view of making it the 
 sole system of the state. But it proved too 
 much of a problem for the majority of the 
 brethren, and so it dropped into obscurity, 
 and I only obtained this volume through a 
 friend in the ring. It is merely a system of 
 phonography, with new signs, and as the signs 
 are all very complicated, it cannot be written 
 without great labor. 
 
 " With another word I am done. The Saints 
 have many faults, but they have been dogged 
 around enough to compensate. They have 
 utilized these valleys in the mountains, which 
 would not have been done for years hence. 
 Then let us treat them like friends, hoping 
 that the problem of the extermination of po- 
 lygamy may be solved with satisfaction to all 
 by a new departure ; or, in other words, by 
 a revelation from on high." 
 
 The Pirate sat down. It was agreed that 
 no remarks should be made; so for a few 
 moments we all sat staring blankly at the 
 glowing embers, until Cap, starting up, said 
 he must go and get his wolf. 
 
 The chronometer indicated twelve o'clock. 
 It was time to "turn in;" so, after drawing 
 closer to the fire, to get thoroughly warmed, 
 we were about to retire, when the General 
 spoke of our next lecture. 
 
 " O, yes; who'll follow me?" asked the 
 Pirate. 
 
 "I will," exclaimed Cap, as he came into 
 the light of the fire and threw down the car- 
 cass of a wolf. "I will. Subject: The 
 Shinomos, or the Artists of Nature." 
 
 " Very good," we said. 
 
 NOTE. Cotton-wood is a creek just south of Salt Lake. 
 Mormons are " called " from one settlement to another. 
 Virgen is the Rio Virgen. Grease-wood is a bush similar to 
 the sage-brush. Lucern is a species of clover. 
 
 A man named Rigdon attempted to become the perma- 
 nent president of the church, but was defeated by Brigham 
 Young. 
 
u8 
 
 THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 SHINOMOS AT HOME. 
 
 THE CAMP DT THE GULCH, 
 
 THE SHTKTOMOS, OB THE ARTISTS 
 OF NAT LIKE. 
 
 BY JUSTIN DALE. 
 
 upon a time, my friends," began 
 the Captain, in that old-fashioned strain 
 which used to give such a deep mystery to our 
 childish fairy tales, and which now caused us 
 to prick up our ears for a lecture tinged with 
 a coloring of romance; "yes, once upon a 
 time, possibly long centuries ago, a far differ- 
 ent class of beings from what we now find 
 here inhabited these cliffs and mountains, 
 and trod the ground round this very camp- 
 fire, as is proved by the remains of their 
 houses, which we find scattered around, and 
 the abundance of arrow-head chips and broken 
 pottery. These people were called Shinomos, 
 meaning 'wise men, 'because they were versed, 
 to a certain extent, in agriculture and the arts. 
 They were not as highly civilized as the old 
 Toltecs must have been, or as the Aztecs were ; 
 nevertheless, they were a remarkable race, 
 and at one time may have been subject to the 
 Aztec rule, though dwelling so far from the 
 capital. Their intercourse, however, with the 
 Aztecs, is doubtful ; for we find their picture- 
 writing less systematic, and no traces of any 
 
 other instruments than those which they man- 
 ufactured from wood and stone, while the Az- 
 tecs wrought bronze very extensively. 
 
 " Like the latter, they have gotae to their last 
 resting-place, leaving behind but a remnant, 
 who have gathered together in the ' Seven 
 Ancient Cities,' and, while defending them- 
 selves against the attacks of enemies, are be- 
 coming each day less and less. A few more 
 short years, and the only proof the tourist 
 will find of their existence will be the crum- 
 bling ruins of their towns, the ruined dwell- 
 ings and towns now scattered over the south- 
 west, and the mysterious hieroglyphics which 
 are inscribed on the rocky tablets, proclaiming 
 a wonderful tale, that silently petitions for a 
 translator. 
 
 " Distinctly I remember the first I ever saw 
 of this peculiar writing. We were camped 
 on the bank of Green River, at the northern 
 extremity of the Uintah Valley. Two or three 
 hundred yards back of camp arose a cliff of 
 homogeneous sandstone, some two hundred 
 feet high, and upon its smooth base the geol- 
 ogist discovered some figures utterly incom- 
 prehensible. He came to camp and spoke to 
 several of us, saying that he had made an in- 
 teresting discovery, and if we would follow 
 him he would show it to us. Leading the way 
 to the foot of the cliff, he stopped. It was 
 
THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 evening, and growing dusky; so at first we 
 did not perceive the inscriptions, but thought 
 Stoneman had stopped to examine some di- 
 versity of strata with a geologist's eye, and 
 would soon go on. Instead, he turned, and 
 smiled mysteriously. My companion said, 
 * Well ! ' while I, at the instant catching sight 
 of the carvings, uttered an ' O-o-o-h ! ' and 
 sprang closer, with a ' Who do you think could 
 have done this?' 
 
 " Never having seen anything similar, we 
 were fascinated. We searched along, and 
 found others of a like rude nature ; then, as the 
 darkness grew deeper, our steps were directed 
 towards camp, there to discuss the strange 
 pictures, to determine, if possible, who had 
 been the artists. 
 
 "Indians must have made them; for what 
 object would a white man have in chiselling 
 such stuff 'on the rocks? we reasoned. And 
 then came the question, ' By what Indians 
 were they made ? ' This was the Ute's country ;- 
 therefore it occurred to us that they were the 
 artists. If they could, they must solve the 
 riddle; and we resolved to button-hole the 
 first red-skin we came across, and entreat him 
 to explain. Armed with a sketch and a nega- 
 tive, there appeared but one difficulty; and 
 that was, no one could speak or understand a 
 word of Ute, except Bothwell, who had been 
 ' out west ' once before, and, somewhere, had 
 picked up the phrase, ' Anna nea Pi Ute 
 inch, cotch am bana,' which he carefully de- 
 fined as meaning, ' What do you call this in 
 Pi Ute?' His right there was none to dis- 
 pute; so we learned to speak the sentence 
 fluently, and tried to feel satisfied that it was 
 what we wanted. 
 
 " A sharp lookout was kept for more inscrip- 
 tions, and for our interpreter that was to be. 
 He came even sooner than was anticipated; 
 for one morning, as we were eating breakfast 
 and chatting quietly, a shout warned us of 
 some one's approach, and an Indian, with a 
 4 How-how,' rode into our camp. He was be- 
 decked with paint, and dressed in his finest 
 suit, at least in a very gaudy array of buck- 
 skin, red flannel, and beads, and, dismount- 
 ing, squatted upon a little knoll, just as though 
 he was one of the family. How many more 
 there might be at his heels we could not tell, 
 and, as long as they kept away, we did not care. 
 
 " We offered our beaming savage some 
 breakfast, which he caused to vanish as though 
 he had not had a morsel to eat since the hour 
 he was born. Then telling us, by means of 
 gestures, that he would meet us farther down, 
 he iumped on his steed, and was off. 
 
 "After starting, we had not gone far before 
 we came upon his ' wicky-up ' (you know what 
 a ' wicky-up ' is a little shelter constructed 
 of boughs) and his family. The latter was 
 composed of his squaw, two horses, and a 
 small dog. Now, in the midst of his posses- 
 sions, was the time to get him to solve our 
 problem ; and our artist produced his sketches. 
 Presenting them at the aboriginal, he ex- 
 claimed, with acute accent, ' Anna nea Pi Ute 
 inch, cotch am bana?' 
 
 "The Indian took the sheets, gazed at the 
 little black figures solemnly, and muttered 
 something in his dialect. 
 
 "'Pshaw! you didn't say it right,' said 
 Bothwell. Here, let me talk to him. Anna 
 nea inch" (tapping the paper with his finger) 
 1 Pi Ute, cotch am bana?' 
 
 " Quietly laughing, the Indian said nothing, 
 though he must have thought we were a pack 
 of idiots to talk so much about a bit of paper, 
 that to him seemed but good to wrap a 'ciga- 
 rito.' Bothwell was nonplussed. He walked 
 off without a word. The artist exclaimed, in 
 disgust, ' Confound him, he don't know his 
 own language!' and, snatching the papers, 
 returned them to his portfolio. It was a for- 
 lorn hope. Either the savage knew nothing 
 about the pictures, or he did not understand 
 us. I have come to the conclusion that both 
 causes produced the difficulty, and we left 
 him unceremoniously to himself, his family, 
 and a package of smoking-tobacco. 
 
 "Not until all this passed did it enter our 
 heads that the designs were the work of the 
 ancient inhabitants of this region the Shi- 
 nomos. Ruins of their dwellings, we knew, 
 were scattered throughout Utah; but as yet 
 we had ourselves seen none. We began to 
 see that no one else would have placed the 
 writing on the rock; for, if the Aztecs were 
 so proficient in picture-writing that they could, 
 in a few moments, record passing events so 
 minutely, it would not be strange that the 
 Shinomos, an allied tribe, should be guilty 
 of writing their history, or the history of cer- 
 tain 'clans,' upon the rocks near by their 
 dwellings. The Shinomos, then, were the 
 artists; and we sailed on down the great river, 
 ever alert for new proofs of their habitation. 
 These came in succession, rapidly, and at the 
 same time grew more interesting." 
 
 I expunge a portion of the lecture, where 
 the Captain told about several discoveries of 
 little importance, such as fragments of pot- 
 tery, &c. 
 
 " No new signs then occurred until we 
 reached Stillwater canon, when, one night, 
 
120 
 
 THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 or evening, as the photographer was scram- 
 bling among the rocks, he discovered, far up 
 the side of the cliff, some funny little huts, built 
 between shelving rocks. He called down for 
 those who had leisure to come up and see what 
 he had found. I, for one, climbed up ; and, as 
 everything likely to prove Shinomo began 
 to be of all-absorbing interest to me, I was 
 delighted. 
 
 " We raked over the dry dust of ages, it 
 m ly have been, lying inside the huts, and 
 found various little proofs that they had, at 
 some earlier date, been the homes of human 
 beings. The most striking were a few small 
 corn-cobs, dry, and almost as hard as stone. 
 These we captured and carried down to camp, 
 when we had sufficiently inspected the build- 
 ings. The colonel had 'also returned from a 
 tour of discovery, having found on a flat 
 point near the river, and some fifty feet above 
 it, the ruins of several well-defined houses. 
 Around these the ground was strewn with the 
 fragments of pottery, &c., showing that they 
 must either have lived here a long time, or 
 been rather rough with their china. 
 
 "Towering on all sides were the almost 
 vertical walls, rising about twelve hundred 
 feet; and at first sight one would have sup- 
 posed it impossible for any one to get out. 
 The colonel, however, had found an easy 
 path, in one direction, to within three or four 
 hundred feet of the top, when a perpendicular 
 ledge, over twenty feet in height, caused them 
 to halt. At the bottom of the ledge there was 
 a narrow talus, or slanting mass of debris. 
 Following this around, as it afforded a firm 
 foothold, and appeared strangely compact, 
 they came (there were two others with him) 
 upon several dry, pitch-pine poles, braced 
 firmly in a crevice. White with age, they 
 had, doubtless, in this dry climate, stood there 
 many and many a long year. 
 
 " Knowing that the pinon pine decays very 
 slowly, and these poles seeming quite strong, 
 one of the little party tested them by climb- 
 ing up, while the two others braced themselves 
 below to catch him, if the timber should give 
 way. Then twilight began to steal upon them, 
 and they had to hasten down, first, however, 
 determining to follow the path out on the 
 morrow. 
 
 " Around the camp-fire that night we had a 
 good talk about the Shinomos; and the situ- 
 ation was somewhat romantic. As one of the 
 boys observed, we could almost feel the magic 
 presence of the departed race, and see them 
 cultivating their little patches of corn, work- 
 ing diligently at their stone arrow-heads, 
 
 knives, &c., or skipping from rock to rock in 
 the ascent of the cliff. And in imagination 
 we saw something else. We saw the brave 
 little clan hemmed in on all sides, and show- 
 ers of arrows falling thick and fast from the 
 verge of the cliff, black with the enemies of 
 the Shinomos, with the oppressors of the 
 ' wise men.' These foes of the mild-natured 
 civilians were rapidly driving them from the 
 country, and appropriating it themselves; 
 and now all that are left are the Moquis. The 
 colonel, having spent some- time among the 
 inhabitants of the Seven Ancient Cities, re- 
 lated many curious things of them. Their 
 towns are built on high cliffs, called 'jn6sac' 
 by the Spaniards, in order that they can bet- 
 ter defend themselves and their flocks, and 
 afar off discern the approaching enemy. The 
 houses can be entered only from the flat roofs, 
 which are .gained by long ladders.' In case 
 of an attack, the ladders can be drawn up, 
 and the town resolved into a comparatively 
 formidable fortress. 
 
 There stood a House. 
 
 " One town is built on what might almost 
 be termed an island, accessible only by a nar- 
 row isthmus, or causeway, whose sides make 
 a precipitous plunge of several hundred feet. 
 Upon the approach of the enemy, the town- 
 side of this passage was all that it was necessa- 
 ry to guard; and there a handful of men could 
 repel a host. A small band of Navajoes, 
 numbering some twenty-five, by making a 
 charge, once attempted to break through this 
 barrier, and gain the heart of the town ; but 
 their bleaching bones on the rocks below are 
 ample testimony f their success, and serve 
 as a fair warning to future operators. 
 
 " Their flocks of sheep were in constant 
 danger of being driven off by the Navajoes 
 and the Apaches ; so corrals were constructed 
 of stone; and upon the slightest warning the 
 shepherds hurried the flocks up the cliffs; and 
 
THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 121 
 
 once in the corrals, they were safe. Below 
 the towns, by means of irrigation, corn, cot- 
 ton, peaches, and garden vegetables are cul- 
 tivated. 
 
 "The agricultural work is done almost en- 
 tirely by the men, while the women remain 
 in the vicinity of the houses, and prepare the 
 meals, weave, or do some other light work. 
 
 "Usually their repast consists of a pot of 
 soup, from which they help themselves in the 
 most convenient manner. As an accompani- 
 ment, they have a peculiar bread, called ' pe- 
 kee,' which is made from corn flour, in thin 
 sheets, resembling somewhat the coarse vari- 
 ety of wrapping-paper, and varying in color, 
 some being red, some blue, some green, all 
 according to the color of the corn from which 
 it was manufactured. 
 
 "The sheets are packed away, for keeping, 
 in rolls; and these rolls, to the Moquis, or the 
 Shinomos, are the staff of life, just as our 
 loaves of wheaten bread are our staff. 
 
 " When not otherwise employed, the women 
 spend their time at the loom. And you think 
 it strange, no doubt, that such savages should 
 have looms; but their loom does not resem- 
 ble the intricate piece of machinery we find 
 in our factories, for it is but the embryo of 
 that. It is merely a heavy frame, upon which 
 the foundation-threads are stretched, while 
 the dusky weaver dexterously passes his bob- 
 bin in the shape of a long bow in and 
 out between the threads, in the process of 
 'filling.' Upon this rude machine they con- 
 struct some really beautiful blankets, which 
 bring a high price among white traders, on 
 account of their solidity and durability. Many 
 of them are so closely woven that the hardest 
 rain is shed as from a piece of sheet iron. 
 And, after all, they are more like sheet iron 
 than anything else when they get wet, for 
 the fibres become rigid as wire. 
 
 " An industrious Moqui will sometimes 
 spend months of steady labor upon a single 
 blanket, weaving an endless variety of figures 
 in gayly-colored wool ; and, when at last it is 
 completed, he journeys into the adjacent land 
 of the Apaches, or the Navajoes, or the Coho- 
 ninis, or the Mormons, and disposes of it for 
 the small consideration of a horse or two. 
 Besides blankets, they weave sashes, stock- 
 ings, garters, and similar articles, which they 
 trade profitably to other Indians when they 
 get tired of them. 
 
 " Their ceremonies and dances are impres- 
 sive and interesting; but strangers are not 
 always allowed to witness them. Their re- 
 ligious rites arc in keeping with the strange 
 
 creatures themselves. What seems almost id- 
 iotic to a stranger is a foot-race, performed 
 each morning by certain individuals for about 
 an hour, around Concentric large circles. An 
 Indian, almost nude, will come out, and start 
 around the largest circle at the top of his 
 speed, and will keep up that rate until the time 
 to stop, when he retires. 
 
 "Worship of idols is conducted in the un- 
 der-ground temples, or kivas, where the holy 
 fire is kept burning, and where are all their 
 records and paintings. 
 
 "At present these children of Nature are 
 watched over by a fatherly Indian agent and 
 his son, who are fast getting an accumulation 
 of paltry dollars in that most mysterious man- 
 ner so well known to all Indian agents. These 
 guards of the Moquis effect their purpose, for 
 one way, after this manner: Large quantities 
 of cotton goods, tin ware, boots and shoes, 
 traps, axes, &c., are annually sent to this 
 agency to be distributed amongst our aborigi- 
 nal citizens. But it happens, and perhaps 
 quite luckily for their happiness, that they do 
 not like boots and shoes, tin pans, and some 
 other things; consequently, instead of wast- 
 ing such valuables upon savages, the ingenious 
 and noble-hearted white men have struck up 
 a brisk trade with some of the Mormons, whom 
 the Pirate told about; and now each autumn 
 a well-laden pack-train winds its way to the 
 settlements of the Saints, conducted usually 
 by the church's agent for southern Indians. 
 
 " As government goods are always better 
 and less expensive than any others, the traffic 
 is one which pays heavily on the capital in- 
 vested. But I find that I have wandered some- 
 what from my strict subject; and so I will go 
 back to our camp near the ruins. 
 
 " When the colonel had finished telling us 
 those facts about the Seven Ancient Cities, 
 we turned in, some to dream of the rehabita- 
 tion of the gulch by the phantoms of the wise 
 men, and some to sleep the sleep of the right- 
 eous. To me it seemed but a few moments 
 before I awoke to find the sky above faintly 
 illuminated by the first gray streaks of dawn. 
 It was not long before all were up, and then 
 our plain breakfast was disposed of in haste, 
 for we were anxious to give the gulch a thor- 
 ough inspection. Two or three of us picked 
 our way to the ledge, or table, whereon had 
 stood the Shinomo hamlets, and from there 
 watched several others climb the cliff, and 
 help each other, like pygmies, up the ledge, 
 that to us appeared but a stepping-stone. Then 
 they disappeared round a projection, and we 
 turned to investigate the ruins. 
 
122 
 
 THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 "The houses were almost gone, only one 
 having walls of any height, though all were 
 well defined in form. This best-preserved 
 house was about twelve feet wide, and twenty 
 feet long. How high it had been it was im- 
 possible to estimate, as but six feet of the 
 walls stood; though it is probable that it was 
 but one story, having been built rapidly, and 
 with danger lurking close at hand. We found 
 in a narrow crevice remains of a rude stair- 
 way to the river, built, most likely, to obtain 
 water for household purposes. The brightest 
 of the chalcedonic chips and the prettiest 
 pieces of pottery we collected, and then sat 
 down in the shade of the large ruin to study 
 the silent home of the departed race. Here 
 on this very spot the children had sported in 
 their innocence, and made the solemn, silent 
 canon resound by their merry laughter and 
 wild shouts in their musical language. The 
 fragments of pottery, ground round, and 
 punched with a hole, which we had found ly- 
 ing beside the ruins, had, in all probability, 
 been formed by the children as toys. They 
 had played with them, and tossed them around, 
 and thought what wonderful things they had 
 made ; or had pretended to ' keep house ' up un- 
 der the sheltering ledges, just as you may have 
 done many a time in a pleasanter locality. 
 
 "And below waved the field of yellow corn, 
 sending aloft the music of its rustling leaves, 
 while the dark-skinned harvester plied his 
 knife of stone. In the houses, the fairer sex 
 were grinding corn to make bread, or shaking 
 the life out of some little brazen-lunged ras- 
 cal, who had ventured too near the edge of the 
 cliff, and risked tumbling over. 
 
 "All these things passed vividly before us, 
 and we almost began to imagine ourselves in 
 some foreign clime, and felt for our letters 
 of introduction. Would that it could have 
 been so ! But no ; our artists, our wise men, 
 were gone. Where? 
 
 "The picture, relieved of its romance, was 
 but a gulch of the canon, rugged and desolate. 
 The red rocks towered towards the sky; the 
 old farm was overgrown by dense willows; the 
 houses were in ruins; and the only signs of 
 habitation were our quiet camp, a half mile 
 away, and three boats floating on the glassy 
 stream against the bank. Hunger began to 
 suggest a return after a while ; and, without 
 further delay, we wended our way back through 
 the willows to camp. 
 
 " The others came in soon after, bringing 
 with them a huge pot of earthen ware, which 
 they had found, quietly awaiting a discov- 
 erer, in a nice, dry nook under a projecting 
 
 rock, where it had, perhaps, rested over a 
 century. 
 
 " It contained several coils of willows, split, 
 ready for basket-making, which were so ten- 
 der with age that they snapped under the 
 slightest pressure. Around one bundle was 
 tied a small piece of cord, or rope, so rotten 
 now that it came to pieces on being handled. 
 It was made from reddish-looking fibres, and 
 was well twisted. 
 
 "The pot itself was still somewhat black on 
 the bottom, from exposure to fire ; and we all 
 looked upon it as an invaluable relic which 
 it was; but it was destined never to reach the 
 settlements in its natural condition, as, a short 
 time after, it was accidentally broken into 
 small pieces. 
 
 " The path out nad been an easy one, for 
 the aged poles had sustained the party with- 
 out showing any signs of yielding; and, once 
 up, they found no more difficulties, but went 
 out on the plateau with ease. 
 
 It might have been a portion of a Royal Tea-set 
 
 "This consecrated spot was left with re- 
 gret, as we went on, and we found nothing 
 more of importance until Milicrag Bend was 
 reached. Here we found several caves in a 
 detached cliff. In front of these caves were 
 two or three acres of soil, available for culti- 
 vation, and the rare prize had not escaped the 
 Shinomos. Selecting the caves for their 
 dwelling-places, and the ground for their 
 farm, they must have lived in comparative se- 
 curity, for a time, here in the heart of the 
 desert. 
 
 " The openings of the caves had been walled 
 up, except an aperture answering for a door, 
 and in one a second, serving for a window. 
 The floors, covered with a debris of dust, 
 sticks, bones, and cactus spines, were eagerly 
 overhauled, in the dim light, for relics, in 
 spite of the scorpions unearthed, and the pain 
 caused by once in a while touching some of 
 the cactus spines. Nothing but a few corn- 
 cobs, however, was discovered, and, as it was 
 anything but agreeable in the caves, no one 
 
THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 123 
 
 was desirous of pursuing the exploration to 
 any great extent. 
 
 " Our next discovery was still farther down. 
 We had just left the mouth of the Dirty Devil 
 River, when one of the boys espied an object 
 which caused an exclamation. We looked to- 
 wards the left bank, and there, upon a prom- 
 ontory rising about two hundred feet above 
 the river, stood a house a genuine house 
 right here in the wilderness, though seeming- 
 ly without a roof; or, if it had one, it was flat. 
 Certainly no one lived in this desert; none 
 but an Indian would live here, and he would 
 not go to the trouble of building a house. The 
 conclusion that followed was, simply, Shino- 
 mo ! A landing was instantly effected, and 
 we started across a strip of level soil, inter- 
 vening between the cliff and the river, in 
 search of a point of ascent. Immediately be- 
 neath that part of the cliff upon which stood 
 the castle, the ground was covered with the 
 usual accumulation of pottery fragments, ar- 
 row-heads, and chips of chalcedony. One 
 piece of pottery I secured was so artisticallj' 
 marked, and so finely finished, that it might 
 have been a portion of a royal tea-set. 
 
 "To the left was a talus, affording an easy 
 ascent, and, taking advantage of it, we stood 
 beside the ruin for ruin it was of a house 
 s<> symmetrical that it would have done jus- 
 tice to a more modern architect, supplied with 
 improved instruments. Three walls, some 
 fifteen feet in height, were still standing, and 
 of these the corners were as true and sharp, 
 and the walls themselves as straight, as plumb- 
 line could make them. Some kind of mortar 
 had been used, but it must have been merely 
 mud-mortar, for now not a trace of it could 
 be found. 
 
 " The point of the cliff upon which it was 
 built was formed of level blocks of sandstone, 
 and upon these, close to the base of the house, 
 were cut a number of curious designs, while 
 the large, isolated rocks close by were tattooed 
 all over with pictures, highly praiseworthy 
 for such humble * artists of nature.' Under 
 the verge of the cliff ran a narrow bench, over 
 which the rocks projected, so as to form a per- 
 fect ceiling, ten feet or more above the rocky 
 floor. This bench could be gained only at 
 one or two points from above, and at but one 
 from below. A series of walls had been built, 
 dividing this natural hall into a number of 
 different houses, or compartments, with win- 
 dows and connecting doorways, while here 
 and there were balconies, where the rocks 
 above did not protrude far enough to form a 
 roof. Many of the walls had fallen down, 
 leaving the apartments li^ht and airy; and 
 
 with ease we strolled along, viewing an almost 
 continuous panorama of inexplicable draw- 
 ings adorning the back-rock. 
 
 " What a rare gallery of art it was. this col- 
 lection of pictures which had waited- so long 
 for admirers! And only now its visitors had 
 come. Some of the designs were chiselled 
 out, and others were executed in a strange 
 style of coloring, which seemed a part of the 
 rock itself. 
 
 " Our artist copied them all, and I have 
 drawn some on this paper from memory, and 
 some from notes. Serpents and lizards there 
 were, and bodies with heads, and bodies with- 
 out heads; strange circles, with zigzag lines 
 running through them; arrows, crossed; 
 queer-shaped individuals, with their hands 
 clasped together; and fish, and mountain 
 sheep, and I don't know what all. 
 
 " This place was almost as impressive as the 
 ruins above; and it was with the greatest re- 
 luctance that we resumed our voyage, and 
 watched the home of the artists till a bend in 
 the river drew the curtain, and we turned our 
 attention to the lookout for more. We saw 
 the ruins of three or four houses on the right ; 
 though, as they did not appear very attractive, 
 we did not land; but at evening, close to oui 
 camp, on some hills, were several ruins, rather 
 indistinct. Within a few feet of the best-pre- 
 served one was a circular basin, resembling 
 the sawdust ring of a circus, only it was but 
 about twenty feet in diameter. This the 
 colonel pronounced a ruined kiva; and for a 
 while we dug with prodigious energy, attempt- 
 ing to strike the old, buried walls. Alas for our 
 fond hopes of discovering rare relics ! Dark- 
 ness came upon us too soon ; and in the morn- 
 ing, owing to the low state of our larder, we 
 were obliged to pull out. and sail on. Each 
 day now brought fresh signs of these ancient 
 artists. Once some pottery of a rare cream- 
 color was discovered. Again, in a side al- 
 cove, was found a store-cave, with a very small 
 door, whose sides showed the impressions of 
 the builders' fingers in the plaster, as though 
 made no later than yesterday." 
 
 Next, the Captain gave us a description of a 
 peculiar wall, supposed by the Mormons 10 be 
 of Shinomo origin; but geologists had pro- 
 nounced it nothing more than a dislocation 
 of strata. He also told of various out-of-the- 
 way places where he had found the carvings, 
 much to his astonishment, and then proceeded 
 with the following: 
 
 " The vicinity of Mount Trumbull, although 
 rough and volcanic, abounds with evidences 
 of early habitation by the Shinomos. Boul- 
 ders of basalt, as hard, almost, as iron, are 
 
I2 4 
 
 THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 found covered with carved figures, and the 
 tops of some of the Unagkar tickets, or cinder- 
 cones, abound in ruins and broken pottery. 
 
 "Over a lava bed, ragged as a nutmeg- 
 grater, and which can only be traversed with 
 the greatest care, trails have been built in all 
 directions. By following these, it is easy, 
 comparatively speaking, to walk over the lava; 
 and you would at once notice the vast differ- 
 ence between the rocks in the trail and those 
 outside. A bit taken from the main bed re- 
 sembles a coarse sponge in texture, but is as 
 hard as flint, and very angular; a piece from 
 in the trail is as smooth as a' cobble-stone. 
 How many, many passing footsteps it must 
 have taken, then, to accomplish all this ! For 
 look at an ordinary sidewalk, composed of 
 moderately soft sandstone. Does it not take 
 long years for the multitude of footsteps to 
 make an impression? The steady flow of wa- 
 ter will in time wash away the hardest rock; 
 and just so did the tread of moccasoned feet 
 grind down those fragmentary rocks to peb- 
 bles. 
 
 " The question naturally arising in your 
 minds is. Why did they travel over such rug- 
 ged ground ? And it can only be answered by 
 the supposition that their towns were built 
 upon the lava bed, to offer the enemy a greater 
 disadvantage. 
 
 "Near the terminus of one of these trails 
 was a little hollow in the rocks, which became 
 full at even a slight shower of rain ; and close 
 by this -water-pocket, half buried beneath a 
 mass of lava, was discovered a human skele- 
 ton. Between the mouldering ribs, an Indian 
 water-basket, or jug, was decomposing; and 
 the whole presented a ghastly sight in such an 
 awful sepulchre. The teeth were yet well pre- 
 served, and I obtained one of them fora relic. 
 It was a molar, and of a different shape from 
 any I had ever seen before, and yellow with 
 age. The skeleton could hardly be that of a 
 Shinomo, for it does not seem possible that it 
 would last so long, exposed to the snows of 
 the mountains; and yet it may have been the 
 last poor, wretched remnant of those who in- 
 habited the lava bed, who prowled around 
 among the dark rocks, evading his enemies 
 successfully, until at last, perhaps, his water- 
 ing-place was discovered. Then a vicious 
 brute ensconces himself snugly behind a 
 screening rock, and patiently waits his time. 
 The moon breaks forth from a silvery prison, 
 with a cheering brilliancy, as the poor Shino- 
 mo stoops to fill his exhausted jug. The 
 twang of a bow-string breaks upon his ready 
 car; but it is too lr.>e for him to escape. The 
 tearing arrow pierces him through and 
 
 through. With a yell of defiance he starts up 
 to fall quivering upon the cold rocks, as the 
 moon, seemingly horrified, draws again its 
 dark curtain. A pitiless smile plays about 
 the mouth of the assassin, as he rolls over the 
 corpse, and withdraws the arrow. Then, to 
 finish his work, he detaches the mass of lilack 
 hair, crashes several large rocks upon the 
 body, and disappears in the direction of a dis- 
 tant fire. 
 
 " That is a picture of Indian warfare, wheth-. 
 er the victim be Shinomo or Caucasian. 
 
 "The lava bed was estimated to be about 
 three hundred years old. So the Shinomos 
 who lived there must have passed from exist- 
 ence somewhere in the neighborhood of one 
 hundred and fifty years ago, as no tradition 
 of them can be obtained from any of the pres- 
 ent Indians. They were exterminated by the 
 advance-guard of the great Ute familj', just 
 as the Utes in their turn are giving way to the 
 present generation." 
 
 Continuing, the Captain gave us a lengthy 
 theory of the origin of the races of America, 
 which I cannot repeat, but will give you his 
 closing words. 
 
 "Thus, all through this south-western 
 country, you find signs of civilization, pre- 
 historic; and the farther south you journey, 
 the more massive are the ruins of habitations, 
 and the more perfect are the works of art, 
 until you reach the ruins, so grand and 
 majestic, in Central America; the remains of 
 great cities, constructed, abandoned, and dis- 
 integrated long before the proud Aztec Mon- 
 tezuma ruled his vast empire, and long, even, 
 before that empire existed. 
 
 "And now, gentlemen, having told you 
 about all I know of the Shinomos, the wise 
 men, and Nature's rude artists, I will say no 
 more, leaving you to ponder the subject to 
 your hearts' content." 
 
 The long, dismal howl of a coyote rose 
 through the silence of the valley, becoming 
 faint in the distance as the Captain sat down. 
 
 "An appropriate ' amen,'" remarked the 
 General. 
 
 Then a consultation was held to see who 
 should deliver the next lecture, and, u-nac- 
 countably, it again fell to the Captain. Re- 
 luctantly he agreed to entitle his lecture 
 "The Unknown River, or Old Father Time's 
 Masterpiece." 
 
 NOTE. . A, in Indian words, generally has the Italian 
 sound. Kiva is pronounced keva ; Shinomo, Shee-no-mo ; 
 Moquis, Mokees; Navajo, Navaho ; Apache, A-patck-e; 
 Cohonini, Co-ho-ne-tte ; Wicky-ups is probably contracted 
 from vricker-upi. 
 
THE CAMP IN THE GULCH 
 
 I2 5 
 
 THE STEERSMAN CLINGING TO A RING IN THE STERN. Page 130. 
 
 THE CAMP IN" THE GULCH, 
 
 IV. THE UNKNOWN RIVER, OB OLD 
 FATHER TIME'S MASTERPIECE. 
 
 BY JUSTIN DALE. 
 
 reader, the subject for the lecture 
 this evening was not new to us. How- 
 ever, the Captain proposed to present it in a 
 form as attractive as possible ; and the topic 
 would bear much fresh handling: in fact, we 
 never were tired of re-discussing the wonder- 
 ful river, and of hearing the Captain rehearse 
 some of his thrilling experiences; therefore 
 we prepared to listen to-night to a discourse 
 of considerable interest on the unknown river, 
 the Rio Colorado Grande of the Spaniards, 
 and the Americans' Colorado River of the 
 West, which so long in solitude had wrestled 
 with the hard rocks obstructing its pathway 
 to the bosom of old Ocean, cheered on by its 
 own eternal thunder. 
 
 The interest, too, was heightened by our 
 being so near to Marble Canon, one of the 
 deepest and grandest chasms of the whole col- 
 lection. We had gazed from eminences, 
 through the blue haze, at its narrow top, and 
 often wondered how the interior looked; won- 
 dered if the same clear sunshine that bathed 
 the rocks of the gulch ever penetrated to its 
 
 mystic depths, scarcely believing the Captain 
 when he answered in the affirmative. 
 
 Quietly our lecturer began as follows : 
 " Far away in the north, among the wild 
 gulches of the Wind River Mountains, several 
 rivers rise, and, swelled by additional streams, 
 become irresistible torrents. One of these 
 streams, the Snake River, plunges rapidly 
 down, and settles in the channel of the great 
 Columbia. Another, rising but a short dis- 
 tance away, is Green River. Its emerald wa- 
 ters tumble down in numerous rapids, through 
 small canons, foretelling, with an ominous 
 murmur, the terrible struggle to take place 
 below. Two or three hundred miles are thus 
 passed, when a high barrier is found. Tearing 
 through this, its fate is sealed. It begins al- 
 most at once its headlong race to the sea, 
 hundreds of miles away, and six thousand feet 
 below, and stops not until, mingled with oth- 
 er waters, it unites with the briny fluid of the 
 Gulf of California. 
 
 "This is the Unknown River, and its course 
 is marked by a deep gash on the surface of 
 our globe. But through this channel so deep 
 it has not always run so furiously. In the be- 
 ginning so long ago that no man can com- 
 pute it the foaming torrent was a broad, 
 placid stream, meandering among the hillocks 
 and flowing through great quiet lakes to- 
 
126 
 
 THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 wards an abrupt coast, where it poured off 
 into the sea. Slowly the surging waters un- 
 dermined the foundation-rock of the cascade, 
 and the top was crushed in, or, rather, broken 
 off, thus causing the cascade to take a step 
 backward, and leaving an alcove, or bay, sur- 
 rounded by high walls. 
 
 " The pent-up surge gnawed steadily at the 
 foot of the fall, and again it gave way, taking 
 a second step inland. And in this manner, 
 similar to the retrograde movement of Niaga- 
 ra, the mighty fall steadily backed up into the 
 plateau, and as steadily became shorter, for at 
 each successive breaking back, the bottom of 
 the gorge was filled up with the debris, mak- 
 ing it a little higher than that farther down ; 
 consequently the water did not have quite so 
 far to fall. The struggle continued in this 
 way till the fall either disappeared in softer 
 rock, or could make no plunge, the bottom 
 having risen to the top. 
 
 "At the same time, however, erosion of the 
 surrounding country was being carried on by 
 heavy rainfalls following each other in rapid 
 succession. Ridges and mountain ranges were 
 formed, and the drainage of the surface was 
 changed into many directions by the sudden 
 emptying of the pools or lakes, as the river 
 wore its deep gorge northward. Some of these 
 ridges and mountains were at right angles 
 with the course of the stream; and to an ob- 
 server then, the canon through them would 
 have seemed to have been cut after the ranges 
 were formed, causing great perplexity. 
 
 " By the time the river had ceased to have a 
 vertical fall, the country was well diversified 
 by high mountains and deep canons, and the 
 river itself was hemmed in by walls rising 
 many thousand feet. The rain then was not 
 so evenly distributed, for the higher portions 
 condensed the clouds before they arrived over 
 the lower ; and the result was, that some parts 
 had rains only at comparatively long inter- 
 vals. 
 
 "The tributary streams by this time had as- 
 sumed definite courses, and were attempting 
 to gain the river level in the way that the 
 river had tried to gain the level of the ocean, 
 namely, by plunging over the abrupt walls in 
 cascades. 
 
 " Their canons soon resembled that of the 
 river; though, owing to the unequal distribu- 
 tion of rain, some were at times dry, leaving 
 the disintegration entirely to the frost and 
 wind, which accomplished their work much 
 slower than water. 
 
 "The surface of the country was, in this 
 way, ground down to its present configuration. 
 
 We now have the river, at its head, about 
 seven thousand feet above the sea level, with 
 a descent rapid or gradual, according to the 
 nature of the strata through which it flows. 
 The walls are low, when compared with the 
 original; and in the lateral canons can be 
 found specimens of the immense leaps which 
 the water made to reach the river. For in- 
 stance : suppose you were travelling beside a 
 canon. You come to an impassable branch. 
 To avoid it, you head it ; that is, you follow 
 it up until you find the highest point to which 
 the vertical plunge has receded, and then you 
 can easily go around. 
 
 " A good illustration of the formation ol 
 canons is found in a mud ravine. Take, for 
 example, a level bottom, with a creek quietly 
 wending its way downwards through shal- 
 lows and pools. As you follow it along, your 
 ear suddenly catches the sound of falling wa- 
 ter, and in a few moments you are standing 
 on the brink of a miniature Niagara. With a 
 quick plunge the creek pours over into a per- 
 fect canon, cut through the hard soil. You 
 wonder at first why the creek should ' canon ' 
 so suddenly at this particular spot, as the soil 
 is evidently no different from the surrounding. 
 But, while you stand and wonder, you hear a 
 splash. Upon closer examination, you find 
 that fragments of the edge, undermined by 
 the surge below, are at intervals dropping off, 
 and the cascade is receding towards the high 
 ground. It will keep on receding until it 
 reaches sandy ground, when the water will 
 sweep through without a fall. You follow on, 
 and find, after a short distance, that the canon 
 is growing wider, and in some places there is 
 no wall at alii 
 
 "Three great causes combine to produce this 
 change water, frost, and wind. Frost and 
 wind break off masses of the verge, which fall 
 into the stream, and direct its course against 
 the opposite bank. This it undermines, and 
 the top, falling in, turns the tide back again, 
 and vice versa. Consequently it is readily 
 seen that the reason the gorge is represented 
 still farther down only by a hollow, or val- 
 ley, is because there is where Time has had 
 the best chance, and has levelled the country 
 down from its primitive condition, to make 
 it habitable for man and beast. 
 
 " And so it is with the rivers of the world. 
 Those now navigable, and surrounded by fer- 
 tile valleys, have passed through the ordeal, 
 while those like the Colorado of the West are 
 far from being completed. The Lower Colo- 
 rado is slowly transforming; but before it is 
 perfect, erosion will have to gnaw dexterous- 
 
THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 127 
 
 ly at the Sierra Nevada, the Wasatch, and the 
 Rocky Mountain ranges. 
 
 "As I have now hinted at the manner in 
 which the great canons were formed, I will 
 now proceed to tell you something of the pi- 
 oneers who descended them. The first party 
 was conducted by a gentleman as a private 
 venture. The second was a regular survey 
 party, led by the same gentleman, under di- 
 rection of the government. Their boats were 
 launched at the railway crossing of Green 
 River, and from there the three little craft, 
 manned by ten men, sailed down the Unknown 
 River into the heart of the mystery. 
 
 "For a while all was very fine, till the river 
 cut through the ridge in the canon of Flaming 
 Gorge. Then the rapids began to appear, 
 few and insignificant at first; but, upon enter- 
 ing Red River Canon, their proportions in- 
 creased, and work became lively. Flaming 
 Gorge had been the gate-way to the depths 
 that, it was said, no man could trace and come 
 out alive. It was predicted that our boats 
 would never float in Brown's Park, at the foot 
 of Red River Canon ; but we passed success- 
 fully into the beautiful valley, and sailed on 
 into the gates of Lodore, so majestic, so sub- 
 lime! 
 
 " The dark walls had hardly closed around 
 us before the music of turbulent water came 
 to our anxious ears. Eight days' hard labor, 
 and the fourteen miles, with their Disaster 
 Falls, Triplet Falls, Bowlder Falls, Hell's Half 
 Mile, and what not, were passed, and we were 
 eight hundred feet nearer the sea level. Pass- 
 ing the mouth of Yampah River, we tumbled 
 on through Whirlpool Canon, Island Park, 
 Split-Mountain Canon, and the Uintah Valle v. 
 
 "A fresh interest was added to the voyage 
 by the discovery of the picture-writing on the 
 rocks. Next we had the Canon of Desolation, 
 through which the river makes a troubled and 
 rapid descent. Then through Gray Canon to 
 Castle Valley a short break in the regular- 
 ity of the walls, and the place where Captain 
 Gunnison crossed the Green, in his famous 
 trip through the West. 
 
 " Labyrinth and Still-water Canons came 
 in quick succession ; and at the foot of the lat- 
 ter was the junction with the Grand River. 
 For the first time our eyes rested on the Rio 
 Colorado Grande, as it started on its way 
 through Cataract Canon. This canon proved 
 true to its name. Cataracts came thick and 
 fast, and it was only with extreme difficulty 
 that we could get over them. I can never for- 
 get one incident, probably on account of its 
 weirdness. 
 
 "Rations were getting scarce, and navigation 
 had to be carried on until very late. The time 
 I speak of we came late to what appeared a 
 very bad part of the canon. The walls rose 
 vertically from the water's edge to a great 
 height, before they broke back a little, to go on 
 up to three thousand feet. Our commander- 
 in-chief reconnoitred a little before starting 
 on. When we ran a small shoot, and pre- 
 pared for the rest, the canon was growing 
 dusky, lending an impressive solemnity to the 
 occasion. Louder the roar of water grew, 
 and at a glance we saw the river divided upon 
 a rocky island, and lashed to foam against the 
 cliffs on each side. 
 
 "Keeping in the line of the dividing water, 
 we ran aground on the head of the small island, 
 and, leaping ashore, held our craft fast, until 
 the two other boats could perform the same 
 feat. They did it successfully, though the last 
 one came very near going over unceremoni- 
 ously. 
 
 Our port oars had to be hastily unshipped. 
 
 " So far it was all right. One at a time, then, 
 the boats were manoeuvred down on the right 
 hand side, to a sort of middle stage to the 
 rapid. Getting on board our boat, we cast 
 oft', and pulled with all our strength straight 
 across the ' tail ' of the rapid, to keep from 
 being dashed against the left hand wall, for 
 which all the current set with unswerving 
 course. 
 
 "All was cleared safely, though our boat 
 swept so close to the pointed rocks that our 
 port oars had to be hastily unshipped. The 
 other boats came through in as good a con- 
 dition; and it was time. Darkness settled 
 rapidly in the canon, and the clouds above, 
 which had been flaming with the sunset rays, 
 lied down to a sombre gray. Our boats drift- 
 ed on down the narrow gorge, till we were 
 aroused by a loud roar, that sounded ominous 
 in the gloom. We ran in, and made a- camp. 
 
128 
 
 THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 " The scene at the island, I believe, was as 
 awe-inspiring as any I ever beheld. With the 
 dying radiance of the sky, and the increasing 
 darkness of the canon, it seemed that the world 
 was closing round us, an awful tomb, and one 
 strained his eyes longingly to catch the last 
 flickering ray of sunlight glancing across the 
 dizzy brink above. But, to dispel our sad- 
 ness, after a whirling rain-storm, that cheer- 
 ful satellite, the moon, came sailing slowly 
 and grandly through the broken clouds, up 
 behind a forest of tall pinnacles, showering 
 its dazzling rays upon the great, cold walls, 
 and holding every man spell-bound till it 
 soared above the towers, and stood sternly 
 against the dark-blue sky. 
 
 " A day or two after, we ran up to the mouth 
 of the Dirty Devil River. You smile, and 
 think the title not very euphonious. I agree 
 with you; but that is its name, and we must 
 get used to it. Here began Mound Canon. 
 Its walls were sharp, but not averaging more 
 than twelve hundred feet in height. The 
 river flowed smoothly, and we sailed past the 
 mouth of the Rio San Juan, with dry decks, 
 into Monument Canon, past the solitary Na- 
 vajo Mountain, to El Vado de los Padres 
 (The Crossing of the Fathers). This was so 
 named from the fact that Escalante crossed 
 the river at this point, with a band of priests, 
 in 1776; and it is a somewhat remarkable ford. 
 The walls are low, and in the autumn the wa- 
 ter is shallow, these being about as favora- 
 ble conditions as you can find on the Colo- 
 rado. Entering the river over the rounded 
 bluff, Escalante had picked out a path diago- 
 nally over the shoals, to a small canon on the 
 other side, which afforded an exit. But it was 
 A quarter of a mile or more above the point 
 of entering, and in some places horses would 
 be nearly carried off their feet by the cur- 
 rent, and in others would have to swim a dis- 
 tance. So you can conclude that, although 
 from that time until within a few years the 
 Crossing of the Fathers, or ' Ute Ford,' has 
 been the only practicable point of crossing, 
 yet it was not child's play. Another cross- 
 ing was found to be feasible at the mouth of 
 the Pa Ria River, thirty miles farther down. 
 Taking advantage of this, the Mormons have 
 built a ferry boat there, as you know, and 
 have blasted the outlet canon at the * cross- 
 ing 'full of rocks, so that bands of raiding 
 Navajoes cannot cross. 
 
 " Opposite the mouth of the Pa Ria is the 
 Echo Peak, which I cannot pass by without 
 a word. It is twenty-four hundred feet above 
 the river level, and gives a remarkable echo 
 
 the derivation of its name. A pistol-shot will 
 die away, and after an interval of twenty-four 
 seconds will be heard crashing amongst cliffs, 
 many miles away, like distant artillery fire." 
 (The cliffs could not have been more than 
 four and a half miles away, for sound only 
 travels one thousand and ninety feet a second. 
 Allowing twenty seconds for the shot to die 
 away, would give us a total of forty-four sec- 
 onds before the echo returned ; or, the sound 
 had travelled 47,960 feet; a little over nine 
 miles. The reflecting surface must, then, be 
 half this distance, or four and a half miles 
 away. J. D.) 
 
 " Besides the echo, from this peak can be 
 obtained an entrancing view. Broken cliffs 
 are on every hand, with high mountains in the 
 background, while on the south, stretching 
 away into the endless plateau, is Marble 
 Canon, its dark, zigzag course, with the later- 
 al canons, appearing like a writhing serpent. 
 At your feet is the river, bounded by walls 
 only twenty or thirty feet high, while in the 
 distance nothing can be seen but the narrow 
 crevice. The river has sunk into the bowels 
 of the earth. 
 
 " At this point we abandoned one boat as 
 unseaworthy ; and it was not long before we 
 sailed on into * the Valley of the Shadow of 
 Death,' I might almost say; for three of the 
 only band who had before traversed it never 
 again saw civilization. They did not lose 
 their lives in the canon, it is true, but still in 
 close connection with it. It was in this way: 
 The work had been exceedingly dangerous for 
 a long time, when the river became smoother, 
 and prospects were more hopeful. At this 
 their hearts lightened. But the lightness was 
 destined to be short-lived; for one day the 
 harbinger of danger granite again came 
 to the surface ; and following close upon its 
 appearance was a rapid, which, in the language 
 of one of the party, ' was enough to balk any 
 man.' They found that there was only one 
 way to get over it, and that was to ' screw their 
 courage to the sticking-point,' and boldly face 
 the music. Two boats went over in safety. 
 The crew of the third, consisting of three 
 men, backed out, fearing something worse 
 below; and, abandoning their boat and the 
 others to their fate, they sought a point where 
 they managed to gain the surface once more, 
 and struck out for the nearest settlement. Evil 
 eyes followed their footsteps. As they were 
 quenching their thirst at a water-pocket, they 
 were struck down by the missiles of ambushed 
 savages. 
 
 " The party soon completed their voy- 
 
THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 129 
 
 age in safety, and returned to more favorable 
 climes. Still they wondered how their old 
 companions had fared; and it was only when 
 their fate was told in the settlement by a friend- 
 ly Indian that the matter was definitely set- 
 tled. 
 
 "Their only monument is in the Temple 
 of Music, a dome- shaped alcove, near the 
 mouth of the Rio San Juan, where, in the soft 
 sandstone, they had carved their names. Upon 
 this recording tablet we, too, inscribed our 
 names, that, though we might be mangled in 
 the seething river, or slaughtered in some 
 mountain-gulch, we might have the consola- 
 tion of leaving a mausoleum behind. 
 
 " Into the jaws of the chasm, growing deep- 
 er and deeper at every stroke, we sailed, listen- 
 ing for the first sound of angry waters. For 
 a short distance the boats glided smoothly 
 and swiftly on ; the fantastically-shaped walls 
 flitted by in a pleasing panorama. Ten miles 
 had scarcely thus been left behind, when the 
 river narrowed from four hundred to about 
 three hundred feet, and plunged down the 
 gorge in earnest. Following each other thick 
 and fast came exhilarating runs and hard 
 portages. All day long, as in the canons 
 above, we were drenched to the skin. Some- 
 times the boats would stand up on the huge 
 waves composing the tail of a rapid, until 
 they felt ready to topple over backwards, or 
 would graze a ragged rock hiding beneath a 
 mass of foam, so quickly that we only realized 
 the danger when it was passed. 
 
 " A thousand feet of marble was soon run 
 up, and, added to the rest, made the walls 
 about three thousand five hundred feet high. 
 This marble was of all colors ; not variegated, 
 but you could find ledges of almost any color 
 you wished. In some places it was eroded 
 into infinite varieties of castles, fortresses, and 
 everything else you pleased to imagine. But 
 the whole surface was generally turned to a 
 dreary red by the iron disintegrating from the 
 red sandstones above; so that, although mar- 
 ble, its resemblance to quarried marble was 
 slight. After a short distance, other rocks, 
 coming up from below, elevated it above our 
 heads; and at the mouth of the Rio Colorado 
 Chiquito, the total height of the walls was 
 about four thousand feet. 
 
 "'At the mouth of the Little Colorado, a 
 peculiar conglomerate was observed covering 
 portions of the cafion wall to about five hun- 
 dred feet above the river. It was then unac- 
 countable; but subsequently we discovered 
 that it had been formed in this way : Farther 
 down the river an overflow of lava from a vol- 
 
 cano near by had occurred, damming up the 
 canon as many hundred feet as the height of 
 the conglomerate on projections of the walls, 
 or five hundred feet plus the amount of de- 
 scent between the mouth of the Little Colo- 
 rado and the point of obstruction. The water 
 then rose to the height of the dam ; and it was 
 many long ages before the barrier was cut 
 away, and the river again flowed at its old 
 level. During this time a deposit of sediment 
 was taking place in the quiet pond above the 
 dam ; and the result was the stratum of con- 
 glomerate, in its turn nearly eroded, which 
 had been a problem. 
 
 The river has sunk into the bowels of the earth. 
 
 " Consider a moment how long the river 
 must have been in cutting away the hundreds 
 of feet of lava: then compare that small piece 
 of work with the gigantic gorges of the Colo- 
 rado, so many miles long, and see if you can 
 estimate how long the earth has been in ap- 
 proaching its present state from, probably, a 
 mere fragment of some other world. 
 
 " It makes your head swim to dare to think 
 of such a lapse of time ; and yet you have 
 lived twenty, thirty, or forty years, intending 
 to live as many more equally long! 
 
 " In 1540 an expedition was sent by Spain 
 into what is now New Mexico and Arizona. 
 It was under the command of Vasques de Co- 
 ronado, who sent a detachment, in charge of an 
 officer named Cardinas, northward; and it 
 was the latter who, after a march of some 
 twenty days from the Moquis towns, reached 
 the margin of a gorge, the bottom of which 
 seemed to him more than three leagues below. 
 
 " Sebastian Coronado, I think, was one of 
 Escalante's officers, and determined the junc- 
 tion of the Colorado and Gilas, or some other 
 stream. In fact, there are so many Corona- 
 dos and Diazes, and similar names, that one 
 admires the ingenuity of a Humboldt, Irving, 
 
13 
 
 THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 or Prescott, in keeping them within their own 
 sphere." 
 
 We next listened to an account of several 
 days' work, rife with danger and excitement; 
 but I must omit it. One day's experience, 
 which he told concisely, I will repeat. He 
 said, 
 
 " Another day, which stands prominently 
 upon the pages of my diary, is when the fierce 
 river made an almost successful attempt to 
 drag down our gallant leader, and George, 
 the life and song of our party. It happened 
 in this wise : We had been having splendid 
 luck, and dashed unharmed over nearly every- 
 thing that came in our path, having innumer- 
 able narrow escapes ; but, so long as we came 
 out 'all right,' a miss was considered fully 
 equal to a mile, and, besides, afforded conver- 
 sation for the camp. ' Hard on the right ! ' 
 4 Hard on the left ! ' * Pull out strong 1 ' Pull, 
 
 pull for your lives, boys I ' * Pull like , 
 
 boys, or we're gone! ' rang in our ears, min- 
 gled with the tumultuous roar of water, all 
 day long. 
 
 " Sharply, one evening, we came to, upon a 
 mass of granitic bowlders, where was room 
 for a camp. Just below was a small rapid, 
 and a half mile farther down was as ugly a 
 looking hole as I had ever seen. The decision 
 was to run it in the morning, an examination 
 having placed it in a favorable light. Morn- 
 ing, therefore, found the two boats with hatch- 
 es battened down securely, and everything 
 made fast that would go by the board in case 
 of a capsize. 
 
 " Our boat, containing the colonel, was to 
 go first. Manning the oars, we cast off, and 
 swung out into the stream. The regular dip- 
 ping of the oars accelerated the speed of the 
 boat, and like an arrow she shot through 
 the small rapid, allowing the colonel to catch 
 a better view of the plunge. We would then 
 have landed, and again inspected it; but it 
 was too late. No human power could stem 
 that tide; and, heading her on, we backed wa- 
 ter, that we might fly into the boiling mass 
 of surges, whirlpools, and waves with the least 
 possible speed. 
 
 " Silently, smoothly we swept down the de- 
 clivity, and darted into the chaos. Wave after 
 wave curled over me as I handled the bow 
 oars; wave after wave rolled from stem to 
 stern of our little bark, filling the standing- 
 rooms even with the gunwale. 
 
 *' * Bale just as fast as you can, boys! ' the 
 colonel said, calmly but emphatically; and 
 we left the oars, and plied the kettles with an 
 ardor cooled only by each successive wave 
 
 undoing our work, till one, more powerful than 
 the rest, struck us a blow on the port bow, 
 and over we rolled, quick as thought. Had 
 the colonel not had on his life-preserver, it 
 would have been all over with him. Even as 
 it was, he was pitched some distance from 
 the boat, together with the stroke oarsman, 
 George, and they were caught in a whirlpool, 
 and drawn rapidly downward. I made a 
 clutch for something, as the muddy water 
 closed over my head ; and, luckily for me, my 
 hand clasped a spare oar that was fastened to 
 the gunwale, by the aid of which I brought 
 my head once again into the life-giving me- 
 dium. My hat, a soft felt, had been pulled 
 well over my ears, and still held its ground, 
 clasping my face so tight that I could not see, 
 and could hardly breathe. After turning the 
 brim up so that I could look around, I saw 
 nothing of my companions. A second look, 
 however, showed me the steersman clinging 
 to a ring in the stern. We then, for the time 
 being, were all right; but the whirlpool pretty 
 near finished our friends. I had almost given 
 them up for lost, when a commotion in the 
 water beside me attracted my attention. In- 
 stantly George and the colonel popped up as 
 though shot from a bow. Had they come up 
 twenty feet from the boat, they would have 
 been swept on down the wild current, and 
 dashed to pieces against the rocks. 
 
 " Righting our craft, we one at a time climbed 
 in. Then we laid to the work of reaching 
 shore before another rapid could claim a visit. 
 Had this latter emergency occurred, we would, 
 most likely, have had to say farewell to the 
 sunlight. A boat full of water, all but three 
 compartments, and with a hundred feet of 
 hawser trailing in the water, is no easy thing 
 to handle with any degree of rapidity. What- 
 ever we did must be done instantly. We 
 pulled like heroes. Caught by an eddy when 
 near the wall, we were carried up stream as 
 fast as we had been going down ; and there was 
 imminent danger of again being thrown into 
 the main current. We succeeded, by steady 
 labor, in running up to the granite ; and, haul- 
 ing in a few feet of the hawser, I leaped on a 
 convenient ledge, and made fast to a small knob 
 of granite, just as the consort ran alongside, 
 minus a pair of oars, full of water, and with 
 a rowlock torn off. Owing to her lightness 
 and superior sea-going qualities, she had 
 weathered the gate, and sustained only slight 
 damages. 
 
 " When order was once more restored, we 
 proceeded, with the usual number of hair- 
 breadth escapes, till near evening, when, iv 
 
THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 attempting to land at the head of a long, dan- 
 gerous rapid, a lurch of the boat made me miss 
 my calculation, and, instead of jumping on a 
 large rock, I sank beneath the current, while 
 the boat and its occupants rushed on to its 
 fate, towing me by the length of line I had 
 taken out, and which I clung to, dragging 
 myself to the surface. 
 
 " It was not the desire of the crew to thus 
 involuntarily run a bad rapid stern-first; con- 
 sequently, as the boat drifted past a projecting 
 rock, the colonel leaped out, and tried to catch 
 the line. He failed. The steersman franti- 
 cally followed the example of our leader. 
 Springing high in air, he came down with a 
 splash upon a bowlder just protruding above 
 the surface, and clutched it with desperate en- 
 ergy. 
 
 " How he got to the shore I do not know. 
 I was interested elsewhere. I thought I was 
 left to battle with the rapid alone, and as the 
 water was no place to do it in, to swim 
 ashore would have been impossible, I went 
 hand over hand to the boat, and tumbled 
 into the bow standing-room. Surprised and 
 pleased, I found George had remained to help 
 me out of my dilemma, and we prepared to 
 take the rapid in the most advantageous man- 
 ner. Close to the final plunge, in the middle 
 of the stream, was a mass of granite as big as 
 & house. Against this the water surged, and 
 then recoiled. The swell thus caused gave us 
 an impetus towards the left hand wall ; and, 
 laying all our strength on the oars, we shot 
 across, and lodged against a friendly projec- 
 tion, while, speedily, I jumped on a ledge, and 
 had her fast to the rocks. Safe ! And happy 
 we were, you can believe, as we cast a glance 
 over the tumbling waters to the gloomy bend 
 below, and then above, to see what had be- 
 come of the rest. 
 
 "A point had cut off their view, and the 
 colonel rapidly climbed up the cliff, to watch 
 for the end. To his great joy, he saw us safe, 
 and ordered the other boat to be let down by 
 line, which was accomplished with extreme 
 difficulty. 
 
 " But one fine day all these things came to 
 an end, as my lecture now has done. We 
 bade a farewell forever to the wild Colorado ; 
 and that is how I happen to be here to-night, 
 by the fire of our snug camp in the gulch, tell- 
 ing you why my bones are not bleaching on 
 the banks of the Unknown River." 
 
 We dispersed to our humble shelter, for it 
 was much later than usual, and all were ready 
 to go to sleep, and " no questions asked." 
 But, for the benefit of the inquisitive, I will 
 
 add that our next lecture was to be delivered 
 by the General, on " Some Noble Red Men." 
 
 NOTB. Rio is pronounced reo ; San Juan, San Hooahn ; 
 Chiquito, tcht-ke-to; Sierra, Sea-air-raJt ; Escalante, s- 
 ka-lan-tay. Chiquito means very little. 
 
132 
 
 THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 SOME NOBLE RED MEN. Page 137. 
 
 THE OAMP IN THE GULOH, 
 
 V.-SOME NOBLE BED MEN. 
 
 BY JUSTIN DALE. 
 
 " 'TT^HE native American, as long as my 
 *- memory serves me, has been the world's 
 ideal of cruelty." 
 
 The General stopped, and darted his keen 
 blue eyes at us the more fully to impress his 
 sentence. He stooped and stirred up the fire 
 before proceeding, and one unacquainted with 
 him would have thought that he had entirely 
 forgotten himself in some vision of the past. 
 
 "But," he went on, "was he by nature 
 cruel, or did contamination with cruelty make 
 him so? We all now unite in sneering at his 
 wretchedness, at ' the Noble Red Man/ as he 
 is swept away by civilization's irresistible tide. 
 We all unite in condemning his fruitless at- 
 tempt to hold the home of his childhood 
 against the invader; but we do not stop to 
 reason that we would, perhaps, act precisely 
 the same, were we similarly situated. 
 
 "You say we would not be guilty of such 
 acts of cruelty as the savage has been known 
 to commit. I agree with you ; but let us at 
 the same time think a moment. Recall the 
 gentle nature of the savages met by the Span- 
 
 iards about the year 1500. Do you not remem- 
 ber the words of the chief, who, before being 
 burned at the stake for resisting the authority 
 of the Spanish crown, said, when asked, that 
 he did not want to become a Christian and 
 go to heaven, where he was told the white 
 men went, for he would not go where he must 
 again submit to such cruelty? It seems to me 
 that European humanity must have been be- 
 low par in those days ; and when the words 
 of this primitive martyr, together with other 
 tales, were related to the young Indian, he 
 must have started up with all his impetuosi- 
 ty, and sworn eternal vengeance on all white 
 men. 
 
 " In consequence, the pioneer, returning 
 from the day's chase, found his cabin a heap 
 of smouldering ruins, and his family either 
 murdered or carried away to a fate ten thou- 
 sand fold more horrible than simple murder. 
 Before the miserable wreck of all that was 
 dear to him, then, the hunter on his knees 
 swore vengeance on the Indian. Forth he 
 went, and every Indian-crossing his path was 
 stricken by the unerring bullet, and another 
 notch was added to the record on the stock of 
 his gun. 
 
 "These notches, most likely, recorded the 
 deaths of red men who had nothing whatever 
 
THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 33 
 
 to do with the rupture of his happiness, and 
 who may have desired peace as much as he 
 himself did. 
 
 " It mattered not to the avenger. He thirst- 
 ed for the blood of Indians, and took it. The 
 Indian, in return, thirsted for the blood of 
 white men, and as unjustly took it. 
 
 " It is so now. Let an Indian commit a 
 depredation, and the white men wreak their 
 vengeance on all Indians, without discrimina- 
 tion. 
 
 ; Suppose an opposite case. An Indian has 
 been killed by a white man. You are riding 
 along alone, and for revenge an Indian shoots 
 you in the back, although you had not the 
 slightest idea that any one had been killing 
 red-skins. Your murder would enrage your 
 friends, and in their turn they would murder 
 every Indian they could get at. When a white 
 man shoots an Indian, it's all right with the 
 rest of the whites; but should an Indian shoot 
 a white, he is killed for it. The same rule 
 applies to the .other side. Therefore, if, a man 
 now shows humanity to a ' treacherous ' red- 
 skin, the latter generally concludes at once 
 that he is afraid of him, or else is a fool. In 
 the first case he would. take advantage of the 
 poor white ; in the second he would let him 
 alone. 
 
 " I was once getting a drink from a tank of 
 water, when an Indian leisurely sauntered up 
 and asked for a drink. To satisfy my curios- 
 it}', I dipped up a cupful, and politely handed 
 it him. He drained it, and then although 
 he stood as close to the tank as I he held 
 the cup towards me, and enclaimed, ' More.' 
 I was tempted to swear, and use a little shoe 
 leather; but, as I was partially to blame, I 
 took the cup, and walked off. 
 
 "We can conclude, then, that once the red 
 man was noble, which was very long ago, 
 and that now he will stand the closest watch- 
 ing one can give him. 
 
 " Some of these noble red men, of whom 
 I shall say a few words, omitting, however, 
 to state wherein they are noble, are the Na- 
 vajoes and the Pi Utes almost the highest 
 and the lowest grades of living Indian na- 
 tions. 
 
 "The first class the Navajoes are a 
 part of the great Athabascan family, to which 
 belong also the Apaches, Chippewas, and oth- 
 ers. For intelligence, they rank among the 
 first of aborigines; and, as a natural result, 
 are tolerably well off in wordly goods : I mean 
 horses, &c. From the Moquis they have 
 learned the art of weaving, and produce more 
 and finer blankets than their teachers. It is 
 
 said that the reason their blankets are better 
 is, that among the Navajoes the men do the 
 weaving, while with the Moquis it is the wo- 
 men. How much merit this explanation has, 
 you can judge for yourselves. Besides the 
 woollen goods, their property consists of large 
 flocks of sheep, herds of horses, and various 
 other animals. 
 
 " The Navajo bearing is quite dignified, and 
 their character is freer and more frank than 
 that of most Indians. Their imitative spirit 
 leads them to adopt many customs not origi- 
 nal. They work in iron to a certain extent; 
 and I have seen a bridle-bit made by one of 
 the rude blacksmiths which exhibited consid- 
 erable skill. 
 
 " At present the whole tribe is at peace, 
 though they have been so but a few years-. 
 They will smuggle off a horse or sheep once 
 in a while; but, taken all in all, they behave 
 themselves very properly. When in their own 
 domains, they are said to be extremely hos- 
 pitable, often killing a sheep from their flocks 
 to supply their guests with proper food. In 
 return, they expect to receive good treatment 
 when they make a pilgrimage to a foreign 
 land. 
 
 " They understand little or no English, but 
 know considerable Spanish; hence one who 
 understands the latter language can generally 
 make himself understood. 
 
 " The Navajo is rather of a humorous na- 
 ture, and at proper times will accept a joke 
 with the best of grace. Frequently you can 
 have as jolly a time with a band just met, as 
 with old acquaintances of a lighter color. 
 They will sing for you, dance for you, or 
 laugh at you ; anything to make an evening 
 merry. Their singing is curious, as is all 
 Indian singing. When heard for the first 
 time, it sounds so funny that you would laugh 
 immoderately; but as you hear more there 
 appears a kind of doleful significance, which 
 claims attention. I never was able to ascer- 
 tain whether their songs had any meaning or 
 not; but it is most probable that they have, 
 if they are like other Indians. 
 
 " To one who does not understand the lan- 
 guage, the songs are a mere a-he a-he a-he 
 a-ha a-ha a-ho a-ho a-ho a-ho 
 a-hi a-hi, and so forth. While uttering this 
 gibberish, some of the singers will close their 
 eyes and draw their countenances into shapes 
 so forlorn in expression that they would make 
 exquisite head-stones in a graveyard. 
 
 " Their language itself is pleasant and musi- 
 cal, when spoken fluently. It abounds in a 
 sound * ktla,' which gives to words a strange 
 
'34 
 
 THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 force, and makes them extremely hard for an 
 English tongue to master Examples are, 
 'Tsin-ktla-ehJ a match ; 'Ktle-be-zas-ta,' 'Ktlc- 
 be-gail,' names for bridle and saddle; ' Pal- 
 ktlad-diej a blanket. 
 
 " These Indians are usually well-built and 
 muscular, with brilliant eyes and pearly teeth, 
 black mustaches, that form on each side an 
 accurate right angle, and long black hair kept 
 glossy by frequent washing with soap-root 
 the root of a species of yucca. When I re- 
 mark that anything about an Indian is neat 
 or clean, I mean that it is so for an Indian. 
 Always remember that every Indian is more 
 or less filthy; that is to say, none are clean. 
 
 " We invited a party of seven or eight dig- 
 nitaries to camp near us once, that we might 
 have an opportunity of learning their habits, 
 language, and natures better. Our camp was 
 beside a little shallow creek, and the Navajoes 
 camped close by on the other side. We fur- 
 nished them with wood from our pile, and 
 gave them some rations, in order that they 
 might get into a mood for song and panto- 
 mimic conversation. 
 
 Wicky-up." 
 
 "Until after we had disposed of our own 
 supper, we left them to themselves. But as 
 soon as it was fairly dark, we went over, and 
 it was only a short time before we had them 
 singing to their full capacity. They did not 
 stop with one or two songs, but kept it up until 
 for once we were abundantly satisfied. At 
 some parts they laughed as though they would 
 burst, and, for aught we could tell, might have 
 been enjoying themselves at our expense; but 
 we cared not, and appreciated their hilarity as 
 much as themselves. Finally, they requested 
 us to sing; and of course we could not refuse, 
 after they had given us such an admirable 
 concert. 
 
 " That sweetest of all songs was our first 
 selection, for it was so entirely different from 
 the broken bowlings of the Indians. The 
 beautiful words of ' Home, sweet Home,' rose 
 sweetly on the night air, charming even our- 
 selves, but delighting the red men. 
 
 " Ash-tish-cal, the principal chief, was 
 wholly absorbed. He leaned forward with a 
 vague, lost air, while his sharp eyes percepti- 
 bly softened, as the gentle strains fell sooth- 
 ingly on his ear. 
 
 " As the last notes died away, they exclaimed, 
 with great pleasure, ' Wehuo, wehuo, wehuo- 
 ha (good, good, good), and Ash-tish-cal stared 
 abstractedly into the bed of coals. Was he 
 dreaming of a home sweet home recalled 
 to his heart by the harmony of the song ? Not 
 improbabje, for, 'be it ever so humble, there's 
 no place like home.' 
 
 " We sang them several more songs : ' Cham- 
 pagne Charley,' 'Beautiful Isle of the Sea,' 
 ' Lone Starry Hours,' and others, all of which 
 our friends enjoyed, to all outward appear- 
 ances. 
 
 "To enliven the assemblage, a dance was 
 next proposed. Not a ' Lancers,' or a ' Re- 
 dowa,' or a ' German,' but a genuine Ameri- 
 can ' walk around,' such as one does not get 
 a chance to participate in every day. Around 
 the fire a mixed circle of Navajoes and Amer- 
 icans was formed, and when all was ready, 
 the Navajoes struck up their music. To this 
 tune we circled round and round, with the in- 
 describable Indian step, so slow and yet so 
 double-jointed, until we became dizzv, when 
 we turned and unwound the other way. This 
 was kept up until we concluded we had 
 enough of it. Occasionally some one would 
 stumble over a root or something, and nar- 
 rowly escape falling into the fire, amusing the 
 Indians hugely. 
 
 " When we had again seated ourselves, the 
 subject of Pi Utes came up. With a laugh 
 the Navajoes exclaimed, ' Pi Utes no wehuo,' 
 and at the same time a bright idea seemed to 
 possess a short, wiry fellow, who jumped up 
 and stepped away a rod or two behind some 
 tall skunk bushes. Another, whose name, 
 translated, signified ' the Bear,' smiled as 
 though he knew what was coming, and the 
 smile passed to the lips of the others. 
 
 " The Indian soon reappeared. He had 
 thrown off all his clothing but his short 
 breeches, and these were rolled up as far as 
 practicable. His hair was dishevelled, his 
 countenance was strained into a perfect pic- 
 ture of misery, and his advance was with a 
 slow, sneaking gait, precisely the opposite of 
 
THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 135 
 
 his original firm, upright bearing. Evidently 
 he was going to present himself as a comedi- 
 an. He crouched close to the fire, exactly as 
 the Pi Utes do, and spread his hands stiffly 
 over it, shivering continually. Then, draw- 
 ing himself up into smaller dimensions, he 
 revolved his hand about his face in the vicin- 
 ity of his nose, and produced a prolonged 
 sniffle, very much as a boot-black would do, 
 if he had lost his cambric. Keeping his el- 
 bows close against his sides, he shiveringly 
 extended his hand, and exclaimed, in a whining 
 tone, ' Tobac, ash-an-ty? ' Biscuit, ash-an- 
 /y,' suddenly withdrawing it, with indications 
 of great fear. This representation of Pi Ute 
 character was perfect; and while we all 
 laughed at the Indian's cleverness, he slipped 
 away to his dressing-room again. 
 
 " Hardly had we fairly recovered from our 
 laughter, when the mimic came out again, 
 dressed in his loose shirt, his flowing cotton 
 breeches, reaching to the knee, and his moc- 
 casons. As he reached us, he said, i Merica- 
 #o,' and stopped close to the fire. He held his 
 outspread hands over it a moment, then rubbed 
 them together, as he would do in washing, 
 and turned his head away in disgust from im- 
 aginary smoke. Next, turning his back to the 
 fire, he raised one foot awhile towards the 
 heat, then the other. Turning round, he 
 again held out his hands, and drew closer to 
 the fire. His back soon getting cold, he had 
 to present that to the heat again, allowing his 
 front half to cool awhile. And thus he turned 
 round and round, till we were all convulsed at 
 his accurate imitation of the way a white man 
 acts when by a camp-fire on a very cold night. 
 He went through the same operation to rep- 
 resent the Mormons, and again retired. 
 
 "We began to consider it a ' big show,' and 
 anxiously waited for the actor to appear in a 
 new character. He was somewhat longer than 
 usual ; but when he came, he was dressed 
 in complete Navajo costume finely-stitched 
 red moccasons, with turned-up raw-hide soles, 
 and brass buttons; red buckskin leggings, 
 with scalloped edges, fastened just below the 
 knee by long scarlet garters, tipped with 
 fringe; the cotton breeches ; red sash ; cotton 
 shirt, hanging loose, like a coat, reaching to 
 his waist; the heavy, striped blanket folded 
 about his shoulders; the turban, of gayly- 
 colored cloth ; and the long bow, with the 
 fancy fur quiver full of arrows, hanging at his 
 back. He walked to the fire with a graceful 
 dignity, and stood before it, motionless, re- 
 marking, with a quiet smile, 
 
 " 'Navajo!' 
 
 " This, then, was the way the noble Navajo 
 conducted himself in camp. Surely he threw 
 no discredit on his race ; for if all appeared 
 as he did that night by the fire, we might 
 truthfully speak of them as * some noble red 
 men.' 
 
 " His show was not done yet. As soon as 
 he had exhibited his finery sufficiently, he 
 threw off the bow and blanket, and picked up 
 one of their peculiar riding-whips. The near- 
 est thing I can liken these whips to is a 'cat- 
 o'-nine-tails' with only tiuo tails. Perhaps, in 
 your younger days, you may have had the 
 misfortune to encounter one of these animals. 
 The Navajo whip would be even more fero- 
 cious in a hand-to-hand fight. Saying ' Co- 
 manche,' and ' Navajo,' our mimic went 
 through a series of motions representing 
 fighting. He showed the result by placing 
 himself astride an imaginary horse, in the 
 position of rapid riding, and, glancing behind, 
 with a countenance full of fear, he laid the 
 whip heavily on his steed's quarters. ' Co- 
 manche, Comanche ! ' he shouted, meaning 
 that the Comanche had turned tail, and was 
 riding away, to live and bravely fight another 
 day. In the same way he showed that in fight- 
 ing, with the Utes, not Pi Utes, it was 
 they who were victorious at times, and at oth- 
 ers it was the Utes. The Apaches were illus- 
 trated similarly ; and then he donned his 
 blanket again, and seated himself beside his 
 red brothers. His performance had far ex- 
 ceeded our expectations, for, though we had 
 seen many Navajoes, never before had we 
 found one whose dramatic ability was so pow- 
 erful. To an enterprising showman he would 
 be worth an immense fortune. 
 
 "Now it was growing late, and the darken- 
 ing countenances of the Indians plainly said, 
 4 Good night.' Therefore we took the hint, 
 and retired to our own quarters. The next 
 day they took their departure, and we shook 
 hands with the lively mimic regretfully. 
 
 " When Navajoes travel, some go on foot, 
 and some on horses. The horses carry rolls 
 of blankets, which are traded for horses. And 
 rarely does the pedestrian make the return 
 trip on foot. If he cannot trade for a horse, 
 he sometimes steals one ; but these cases are 
 not frequent. 
 
 "When Pi Utes and Navajoes get together, 
 they are as courteous to each other as so many 
 white hypocrites would be; but, nevertheless, 
 you can easily arrive at the Navajo opinion of 
 the Pi JJtes, when you consider the mimic's 
 represenu/tion." 
 
 Here the General related several anecdotes 
 
136 
 
 THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 of the Pi Utes and Navajoes, which I shall 
 have to omit, recording the following in- 
 stead : 
 
 " The Pi Utes," he said, " represent, as you 
 are aware, almost the very lowest grade of the 
 native American ; and hence we are not sur- 
 prised that they frighten themselves when they 
 undertake any piece of extraordinary daring. 
 Probably it is this very trait which has caused 
 them to be of so little trouble to the whites. 
 They have offered little resistance to the 
 'course of empire;' and whenever they re- 
 sent an injury, they do it with absolute safety 
 to themselves. Still, they have watched the 
 white man's fast-accumulating power closely, 
 but usually content themselves with accepting 
 the more rapidly accumulating refuse victuals. 
 
 Cactus Apple. 
 
 " Several times they have attempted resist- 
 ance, but have each time failed. Whenever 
 I reflect on the approaching fate of the whole 
 red nation, the words of a chief who was 
 discussing the advance of civilization, the util- 
 ization of their lands, and the destruction of 
 their game, with an American ring in my 
 ears. He exclaimed, sadly shaking his head, 
 and with solemn accent, l Ak-kan?egu t ah-kan'e- 
 ga, nueny shumi /' ('Why, why, I think!') 
 And may we not also exclaim, ' why ? ' What a 
 deep, deep mystery is in that one word ! This 
 chief sorrowfully admitted that the white man 
 might have the best right to the country, as 
 they made it useful and productive; but still 
 he wondered 'why.' 
 
 "The Pi Ute tribe is not all in one band, 
 but is divided into several parties, each of 
 which is ruled by a ' neav,' or captain. These 
 subdivisions each have a certain section of 
 country, which they claim as their own, and 
 other Indians never trespass, except on a visit, 
 or in war. The whole region inhabited bv 
 
 the Pi Utes is sterile and rocky. Their food 
 consists principally of wild rabbits, which 
 are astonishingly numerous in the sage brush, 
 and varieties of grass seed. How you laugh 
 at the idea of living on grass seed! but I tell 
 you an energetic Indian will get fat on it, and 
 would stay so if he could have a continual 
 harvest. Could you see a bushel or two ready 
 for grinding, you could not resist the tempta- 
 tion of tasting a handful or so; and you would 
 find it no mean food, either. 
 
 " Of the different varieties of these seeds, 
 those called ' Ak,' and ' Pash," are found most 
 abundant. Pash is a very fine seed, hard to 
 collect, while ak is much coarser, and, I might 
 say, is their main stay. The Santa Clara In- 
 dians cultivate large fields of ak, which sup- 
 ply them with a proportionate amount of food. 
 In collecting the grass seed crops, which, 
 of course^ is done by the women, a large 
 conical basket, of their own manufacture, is 
 taken, and held in the left hand before the 
 feathery tops of the grass. Then, with the 
 right hand, the tops are struck by a kind of 
 small cradle, and the fine seed drops into the 
 basket. In this way, by going from cluster to 
 cluster of the grass, the basket is finally filled, 
 and the old woman trips away to the wicky- 
 ups, with her load held on her back by a 
 thong around a strange conical or acorn- 
 shaped hat which she wears, well satisfied with 
 her work. 
 
 " I forgot to speak of the rabbits. Without 
 these the Pi Utes would be almost destitute, 
 for sometimes their ak and pash fail; but the 
 rabbits never do. Usually they hunt these 
 animals with their bows or their guns; but at 
 intervals a whole band will proceed to a spot 
 known to contain a large number, where they 
 will stretch a fine net made from the bark 
 of a species of milk-weed, for the purpose 
 around the sage brush, in the form of a semi- 
 circle, whose radius is three hundred feet or 
 more. The rabbits are then drummed up and 
 headed into this net, where they are caught in 
 the meshes until the savages can kill them. 
 
 " The skins of the rabbits they twist into 
 long ropes. These ropes are then sewed to- 
 gether in the form of a robe, or cloak.; and 
 often some poor wretches will have no other 
 covering. The robes, though, are warm, and 
 are not to be hooted at by any one. 
 
 " The ' mescal ' of the Mexicans is also a 
 favorite food of the Pi Utes, who cook it, or, 
 more correctly, bake it, in large pits, which 
 are first heated by a fire, then the 'yant' put 
 in, covered with stones, and a fire built on the 
 top. This mescal, or yant, is a variety of yuc- 
 
THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 137 
 
 ca, with broad, bayonet-like leaves, fringed 
 on each side with small, crooked spines, or 
 hooks. The plant resembles the top of a pine- 
 apple, and from the centre of the cluster of 
 leaves a slender stalk shoots up, similar to 
 young asparagus, attaining a great height, 
 the tallest I ever saw was about twenty feet, 
 hard and fibrous. When this shoot first 
 sprouts from the plant, the ' head' of yant 
 the core of the plant is cut out, and subject- 
 ed to the baking, which makes it tender, and 
 sweet as honey. The Indians take it into the 
 settlements, sometimes, and easily trade it for 
 flour or old bread. 
 
 "After yant the Pi Utes also gather for food 
 the Indian fig, or ' cactus apple,' the ; oose ' 
 apple, and the nut of the pinon pine. 
 
 "All varieties of cacti grow very rankly in 
 Arizona. The one which bears the largest 
 and best fruit is a great, sprawling plant, cov- 
 ered with the most detestable spines conceiv- 
 able. Its branches are composed of large, 
 flat ovals, alternately at right angles with each 
 other. Fields of these are as formidable as an 
 army of bayonets; and one has to follow up 
 some ravine or watercourse to get through 
 them. Head a horse for a contemptibly small 
 bush, and when he arrives at it, he will jump 
 high enough to clear a church spire. As an 
 illustration of the top oval of one of these ve- 
 getable tarantulas, hold up your hand, and 
 spread it to its full extent. 
 
 " The large crimson apples, shaped like an 
 egg \vith the tip of the broad end cut off, grow 
 around the edge of the top oval, precisely as 
 your fingers stick up from the main part of 
 your outspread hand. They appear delicious, 
 and so they are; but the fuzzy spines which 
 cluster over them will torment you terribly, if 
 you are not exceedingly delicate in your move- 
 ments. The Pi Ute takes a bunch of fine grass, 
 and gently dusts off all these spines before he 
 plucks the fruit. He collects a large quantity, 
 which he takes to his camp, where the juice is 
 pressed out, and collected in wicker jugs. The 
 pulp that remains is rolled vip compactly, and 
 put away for dessert, while the juice ferments, 
 and forms a kind of wine, upon which they 
 very often get intoxicated. 
 
 "The 'oose apple' grows abundantly, in 
 large clusters, on another species of yucca, 
 and looks temptingly luscious in August, when 
 they ripen, and turn to a rich golden color. 
 They are long in shape, a little like a cu- 
 cumber, and only the outside is fit to eat. 
 You taste them, and find them to be so very 
 sweet that they nauseate you, making you 
 wonder how anybody can manage to eat them ; 
 
 notwithstanding, some people, who get used 
 to them, think they are better than any other 
 fruit. 
 
 ' Pinon pine nuts grow in cones, examples 
 of which you find hanging to the trees around 
 here ; so I will say nothing more about them. 
 
 " With a few wildcats, birds, and squirrels, 
 and rats, the things I have enumerated con- 
 stitute the food of the Pi Ute division of some 
 noble red men." 
 
 Here I again make a skip to where the Gen- 
 eral begins the description of a Pi Ute dance. 
 
 "Round a cedar tree, stripped of all its fo- 
 liage but a tuft at the top, the Indians were 
 circling, in that sidling double-shuffle so pe- 
 culiar, accompanied by their monotonous sing- 
 ing, sounding all alike to a stranger, but every 
 song having a definite set of words. 
 
 " In some of the wicky-ups, before flaring 
 fires, sat men and women dressed in their gay- 
 est attire, and with their faces hideously paint- 
 ed in yellow, red, and black, who were laugh- 
 ing and chatting as merrily as happy children 
 on Christmas morning. All was gayety and 
 hullabaloo. We distributed presents of to- 
 bacco and vermilion, heightening their hap- 
 piness considerably. The'^0^' announced 
 new songs, and they howled away at them in 
 their broken-jawed manner, keeping time with 
 great accuracy, 'in the circular toggle-jointed 
 quickstep, round the dismantled cedar. 
 
 " Some of my companions elbowed their 
 way into the circle, and hobbled around, for 
 the novelty of the thing; but the rest of us 
 didn't relish such close proximity to them. 
 When asked why we did not also participate, 
 we said we did not like dancing it was 
 against our principles. 
 
 " I will sing you two or three of their songs. 
 They are always short, but are repeated over 
 and over again, with numberless variations. 
 
 ' Ca shakum pooki, 
 
 Ca shakum te ki, 
 Ca shakum pooki, 
 Ca shakum te ki, ' 
 
 and so forth. Another. 
 
 ' Monterei ma, Moquonteki ma, 
 
 Umpa shu, shu-ra-ga-va, 
 
 Umpa shu, shu-ra-ga-va, 
 
 Umpaga-va, shu-ra-ga-va, 
 
 Monterei ma, Moquonteki ma,' 
 
 and so forth. ' Kamuss,' another. 
 
 ' Ta su wont toe gump pi ava, 
 
 Toe gunt te lats, 
 Ta su wont toe gump pi ava, 
 Toe gunt te lats. ' 
 
 And, lastly, one which I consider a really me- 
 
THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 lodious composition. Beginning low, the song 
 gradually rises and falls, thusly : 
 
 ' Yah, yah, queen-io, queen-io, queen-io, 
 Queen-io, queen-io, yah, yah, queen-io, 
 Queen-am pooney, queen-io, queen-am pooney, 
 Queen-io, yah, yah, queen-io,' 
 
 and so forth. 
 
 " Now I will translate. The first song means 
 that you must catch a rabbit before you eat 
 him, or, 'No rabbit kill, no rabbit eat.' The 
 second is of obscure meaning. It is some- 
 thing about a long talk, and boring a hole in 
 a cliff; so it is safe to conclude that it means 
 that a long talk is a great bore. The third is, 
 
 ' When the morning is in the sky, 
 Then the unfriendly lats ' 
 
 lats is the Ute name for the Mojaves, and 
 means ' beautiful men.' The song relates the 
 legend of the wars with the lats, who pounced 
 upon them at break of day. The fourth ex- 
 ample advises you to examine a stranger's 
 track well before you trust him, and is well 
 represented by the proverb, ' Before you make 
 a friend, eat a peck of salt with him.' Anoth- 
 er song told about how the great mountain 
 was sick and trembled, meaning the eruption 
 of Mt. San Francisco. 
 
 " Still another sings, ' During the storm the 
 waters pour down the mountain gulches in 
 feathery torrents;' and so forth, and so on, 
 many of the rude words expressing a world of 
 poetry." 
 
 We next listened to more tales of interest in 
 regard to the noble red men how the ghosts 
 of old women, in the forms of " Woonupitz," 
 danced around in the darkness about the red 
 men's camps; how they sang at intervals, to 
 break the charm of this " Woonupitz; " how 
 " Tavwanaraganump " performed great mira- 
 cles with his terrible fire-ball wielded in his 
 left hand, and a host of other things, " too 
 numerous to mention." 
 
 The General concluded with an apology for 
 not making his lecture better; but we assured 
 him that he deserved a gold medal, and should 
 have one provided we could find the gold. 
 
 ' ; Well," he said, with that peculiar sparkle 
 of his bright eyes, as he took a fresh " chaw " 
 of the vile weed, " I resign this rostrum, with- 
 out animosity, to my illustrious successor/' 
 
 The remnant of the autumn days glided by, 
 pleasantly interspersed, for variety's sake, by 
 our alternating lectures, until word came over 
 the mountain for us to change our base; and 
 next month you shall hear about " Last Days 
 Farewell Old Friends." 
 
 THE HUNTERS' CAMP. 
 
THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 HELLO, BOYS ! " Page 142. 
 
 THE OAMP IS THE GULCH, 
 
 VI. -LAST DAYS. FAREWELL. OLD 
 FRIENDS. 
 
 BY JUSTIN DALE. 
 
 DAYS in the gulch passed pleasantly by. 
 Evenings were devoted, as I have shown, 
 to a sj'stem of lectures, organized both for 
 pleasure and profit. Still there was a long- 
 ing to cross the mountain, and join our old 
 friends once more; and as the autumn days 
 drew to a close, this longing grew more in- 
 tense. The interval of idleness had been re- 
 freshing, but now was getting tiresome. The 
 days were filled with perpetual sun.shine. It 
 was monotonous ; and we thought that after 
 crossing the great plateau, we might find a 
 storm, a blustering storm, for variety. 
 
 It came to pass that we did not have to wait 
 till we could get on the western slope of the 
 kibab for a storm. One day, at evening, the 
 sun had to push his way behind the mountain 
 through a mass of dull gray clouds, which 
 cut off his "good-night" rays much earlier 
 than usual. They crept slowly over the sky, 
 and when in the zenith, feathery flakes flut- 
 tered into the gulch, and the valley was hid- 
 den from our sight by the curtain of " beauti- 
 ful snow." 
 
 When we are comfortably sheltered, what a 
 charm there is in storm, and especially in a 
 snow-storm which steals upon us so softly, so 
 gently, and, seemingly, so harmlessly. Though 
 one may be shivering with cold, if he observe 
 the wavering flakes, of such delicate construc- 
 tion, he must exclaim, "Beautiful snow!" If 
 not of a poetical turn of mind, though, he will 
 fail to be interested in a snow-storm, or any 
 other, unless, as I said first, he is comfortably 
 sheltered. Seated in a cosy parlor, perhaps, 
 reading the story of some traveller's wandering, 
 and ever and anon glancing out of the window 
 to admire the large flakes as they pile up in the 
 street and on the roofs of the houses. At such 
 times, as he reads exciting events, he thinks 
 how nice it would be braving this storm, or hav- 
 ing this or that narrow escape from destruc- 
 tion ; or what a great thing it would be to have 
 a skirmish with the Indians. It is astonishing 
 how quick the singing bullet or the whizzing 
 arrow takes the romantic starch out of all 
 these ideas, and leaves them to stand support- 
 ed only by the bare facts anything but pleas- 
 ant. 
 
 Thinking over the Captain's lecture on the 
 Unknown River, you imagine it to have been 
 delightful to sail along between the grand old 
 walls, or to enjoy the excitement of running 
 a rapid; but once become initiated in these 
 
140 
 
 THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 scenes, and you would quickly wish yourself 
 back again. 
 
 When you read Robinson Crusoe, did you 
 not think he had an enviously "splendid" 
 time all alone on his desert isle ? Or have you 
 not often' wished yourself a member of the 
 " Swiss Family Robinson," to roam freely over 
 the tropical Eden? The fault is, that in con- 
 sidering these subjects, we magnify the pleas- 
 ures and diminish the dangers and discom- 
 forts, till all appears in the same light a light 
 of overdrawn imagination. 
 
 From these words my readers draw this con- 
 clusion : " There is no place like home /" and 
 if you are so fortunate as to have a home, my 
 advice is, stay there and be happy, instead of 
 wishing to be somewhere else "to chase 
 the antelope over the plain," and all that sort 
 of thing; for "a rolling stone gathers no 
 moss;" and if you once get started at this 
 wandering life, you will never be content in 
 one place. 
 
 But it is not my intention to inveigle you 
 into reading a sugar-coated sermon ; so, beg- 
 ging pardon for the digression, I return to the 
 camp in the gulch. 
 
 The snow-storm which drew me into the 
 above remarks prevented us from enjoying the 
 evening in the open air, and we took advan- 
 tage of the shelter afforded by our little tent. 
 
 The prospects were that we should have to 
 crawl between the blankets rather early, in 
 preference to sitting in darkness, or in the 
 snow by the declining fire. Imagine our sur- 
 prise when the Captain drew from his little 
 "ditty-box" almost the half of a candle. 
 Where he had picked it up would be hard 
 to state. He was one of those persons who 
 have a place for everything, and invariably 
 put everything in its place. 
 
 The valuable bit of candle was lit, and threw 
 a warming, mellowradiance through the storm- 
 assailed house. Following up his triumph of 
 the candle, the Captain produced three or four 
 copies of monthly magazines, old numbers, 
 which had been received by mail months be- 
 fore, and slung into a corner of some old 
 camp, after a hasty perusal, to decay unmo- 
 lested. Yet here they were, tied up in a neat 
 bundle, thanks to the Captain's character- 
 istic trait, and we were glad enough to take 
 them, and read the articles which before had 
 been skipped in the abundance of reading 
 matter. 
 
 We read along, and became interested in 
 various compositions, not noticing the flight 
 of time. At last the Captain, happening to 
 glance at the pocket chronometer hanging to 
 
 the standard, announced that it was nine 
 o'clock, and stepped out to take a barometri- 
 cal observation. He stopped by the door 
 when he returned, and said, as he shook the 
 snow off, 
 
 " I tell you what it is, boys, this is a cosy 
 little place^" entering. " I wonder how much 
 longer we will have to stay here ! Seems to 
 me about time that orders came to us to pull 
 up stakes, and come on." 
 
 " So it does to me," said the Pirate; " and 
 accordingly I want to proclaim a revelation 
 which I have had in regard to the matter. My 
 vision shows me that this storm will not last 
 long. To-morrow will be warm, and the snow 
 will melt, and before dark a messenger will 
 arrive with advices." 
 
 "You base your revelation on substantial 
 ground, and I see no reason why it should fail 
 any more than succeed. It's time some one 
 came ; and I say, tell them to come as quick as 
 they will. I, for one, am getting tired of this 
 place. I've explored the whole valley, and 
 half the kibab. Don't know what to do next, 
 in the daytime. About the time hard weather 
 sets in, we'll have to be staving around the 
 country. That's just the way it goes," growled 
 the General. 
 
 " You wait until to-morrow-night," the Pi- 
 rate replied, "and you will pronounce me a 
 ' prophet' far excellence." 
 
 " We'll have to wait, whether we want to or 
 not," observed the Captain, looking up from 
 the magazine, which had again absorbed 
 him. 
 
 "Then," said I, " let us pass several hours 
 of the time exploring in Dreamland, for it is 
 not too early to turn in ; the tent begins to feel 
 colder, and Cap wants to save a fragment of 
 his candle for another emergency." 
 
 "True," exclaimed the Captain. "I will 
 give you just two minutes and a half to get 
 under cover." 
 
 At the end of that time not a sound was 
 heard but the wild moan of the wind, as it 
 flew around the sharp corners of the cliffs, and 
 the musical snore of the Pirate, in rivalry. 
 
 Clear and cold came the morning. The 
 clouds had disappeared, verifying a. portion 
 of the Pirate's prophecy. The snow on a level 
 was only a few inches deep, and, as it adorned 
 the reddish hills, recalled to my mind the va- 
 rieties of Christmas pastry, which we boys 
 used to admire in the window of a little bakery 
 around the corner from my old home. 
 
 Northward, on the trail over the hills,, tram- 
 pling down the imitation " frosting," I took a 
 walk, when the sun was well up, for exercise. 
 
THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 141 
 
 I had not gone far before a large gray wolf 
 made hi-s appearance, and trotted along in a 
 parallel course, a few yards off, for some dis- 
 tance. He held his head down, in a bashful 
 sort of a way, and licked his chops, as much 
 as to say, 
 
 "Ugh! but this is a cold morning, and not 
 a rabbit can I find anywhere. Tou look ten- 
 der and tempting, and for two cents, or less, 
 I'd prepare you for my dinner. So look out ! " 
 
 Thinks I, " Well, Mr. Wolf, you're an im- 
 pudent vagabond, any way, to become my 
 companion on my morning's stroll, without 
 so much as barking good morning; and had I 
 my rifle here, I would play you a nice tune to 
 dance by. You are gaunt and shaggy, and 
 would make a fine target." 
 
 My gun was safe in camp, and all I could 
 do was to throw stones at the vicious-looking 
 creature. At this he reconsidered the matter, 
 and slunk away over the verge of a hill. I 
 concluded my walk, and returned to camp, 
 without seeing a sign of another animate be- 
 ing, except the tracks of coyotes and rabbit*. 
 I found that the Pirate had been out in a south- 
 erly direction. 
 
 "If I had only had my gun this morning! 
 but it's just my luck to be without it when I 
 want it. A coyote was coming along the same 
 way I was, and he paid no more attention to 
 me than he would if I had been a cedar tree. 
 It made me mad. I hit him in the side with 
 a big rock, and he picked himself up and 
 walked off." 
 
 I related my interview. 
 
 " It is indeed time that we were moving away 
 from here, if cowardly coyotes are getting so 
 bold. They'll eat one of you delicate fellows 
 up yet, if you don't mind your eyes," remarked 
 Cap. 
 
 "I don't believe these are coyotes that we 
 saw this morning," I said. " They are too 
 large, and the one I saw was a dirty gray 
 color. I think they are mountain-wolves, 
 driven from the timber to the warmer valley 
 by last night's snow." 
 
 " You must be right, for something larger 
 than an ordinary coyote reached two or three 
 of my skins last night, and I can't find a shred 
 of them," said Cap. " What are you laugh- 
 ing at?" to the Pirate. 
 
 " Why, the General's making a ginger- 
 bread ! " 
 
 And so he was. He had found a can of 
 ginger amongst the rations, and had stirred 
 up some flour, and water, and cream of tartar, 
 and saleratus, and sugar, to which he added 
 about one half the ginger. At the moment 
 
 the discovery was made, he was putting the 
 mixture into a small tin pan. 
 
 " Perhaps you'll laugh the other way, my 
 friend, when this cake is baked, and you find 
 you can't have any." 
 
 " I am sorry, for it looks delicious. But 
 where did you get the recipe?'* inquired the 
 Pirate, sarcastically. 
 
 " ' Res-i-pee ! ' What's that? O, you mean 
 receipt." 
 
 The General had a habit, at times, of pre- 
 tending to be very ignorant. 
 
 " No, I don't mean receipt, either. A re- 
 ceipt is a written acknowledgment " 
 
 " Well," laughed the General, " I didn't have 
 a written acknowledgment for the gingerbread, 
 but perhaps I'll want one before I get through." 
 
 "Then, did you have a recipe a prescrip- 
 tion?" 
 
 '' Tearing through a mass of hard branches. 
 
 "A prescription? No, I made my own pre- 
 scription. But no wonder an ex-prescription 
 druggist got ahead of me on recipe. I, being 
 nothing but an old backwoodsman, can't un- 
 derstand recipe, when I've always heard it 
 pronounced receipt.' 1 '' 
 
 " You heard it pronounced wrong, then." 
 
 " Never mind ; it won't make the cake any 
 better." 
 
 This ended the recipe argument. It was a 
 regular source of amusement in camp this 
 controversy on words. If one mispronounced 
 a word, either through carelessness or igno- 
 rance, some one was sure instantly to challenge 
 him; and, unless he confessed his error, he 
 was called upon to dispute the authority of 
 several editions of Webster, with which we 
 were, fortunately, only too well supplied. 
 
 The General's gingerbread baked slowly. 
 
142 
 
 THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 It wjis not done till long after dinner; and we 
 concluded to keep it for supper, first sampling 
 it, to see that it was good. It was a little 
 " sad," and rather sweet; but we called it 
 " double-extra." 
 
 The afternoon passed quickly away, and 
 another point of the Pirate's prophecy was 
 fulfilled: it grew so warm that the few inches 
 of snow disappeared rapidly. As it turned 
 cold again towards evening, the melting 
 ceased, leaving patches of snow for to-mor- 
 row's sun to act upon. Supper time came. 
 
 "What do you think of your brilliant reve- 
 lation now, my friend?" asked the General of 
 the Pirate. 
 
 " I said he would come before dark; and it 
 isn't dark yet. I have a chance left." 
 
 "A mighty slim one," said the Captain. 
 
 I was just raising a piece of gingerbread to 
 my mouth, when I happened to glance to- 
 wards the hills bounding the south-western 
 side of the gulch. Twilight's lingering rays 
 still illumined the sky with a soft light, and 
 against this background I saw the form of a 
 huge animal loom up. Hoping that it might 
 be my morning friend, I exclaimed, " Look 
 there!" and. snatching my rifle, hurried up. 
 The animal was gone when I arrived at the 
 point. I hunted around some; but the twi- 
 light rapidly faded, compelling me to go back. 
 
 Hardly had I reached a position halfway to 
 the camp, when I heard a long, familiar yell 
 echo faintly from far up the valley. An in- 
 stant more, and I was beside the fire. 
 
 "Did you hear that?" I asked. 
 
 "What? We didn't hear anything." 
 
 " Listen." 
 
 All was silent a moment; then we heard, 
 " E-e-e-i-i-i-hooo-o-o " die away amongst the 
 rocks. 
 
 "Johnson ! " they exclaimed. 
 
 It was the looked-for messenger. 
 
 "Now, ain't I a prophet?" asked the Pi- 
 rate. 
 
 " It's dark, 1 ' said Cap. 
 
 " O, you can't expect me to make too close 
 a connection. You must be generous, and al- 
 low that I am endowed with extraordinary 
 power. Remember that I wasn't among the 
 Mormons for nothing." 
 
 "Very well; hereafter you shall be Prophet 
 instead of Pirate. Does that suit you?" in- 
 quired Cap. 
 
 " It does." 
 
 " Hello, boys ! " shouted Johnson, as he rode 
 into the gulch, leading a pack-animal. " How 
 are you all, any way?" 
 
 He dismounted, and the tinkling of his large 
 Mexican spurs sounded like the ornaments on 
 
 the coat of St. Nicholas, as he. handed us a 
 package of letters. The pack was soon off, 
 and in the alfogas we discovered some apples, 
 a canteen of native wine, and some dried 
 grapes. 
 
 The mail first claimed attention; but after 
 it, we gathered closer to the fire, to talk mat- 
 ters over, and eat fruit. Orders were to break 
 the camp in the gulch, and move to a spring 
 in a low line of cliffs, fifteen miles from the 
 western verge of the plateau. It was now Sat- 
 urday night. Sunday we concluded to spend 
 in getting things arranged; and Monday 
 morning we would start for our new camp. 
 
 The Sabbath sun beamed peacefully upon 
 the quiet little camp, and by noon we had 
 everything as much in order as was possible. 
 The afternoon passed off as quietly as usual, 
 and in the evening, Johnson who hailed 
 from Oregon ; had mined and prospected on 
 Snake River, and in different parts of Idaho 
 related stories of his adventures with In- 
 dians; told us of the wonderful rich leads he 
 had owned at various times; how he had once 
 ridden an elk on a wager; and how he had 
 hunted six months for "The Lost Cabin,"* 
 but failed to find it; told us such tales as a 
 miner would tell who had " rustled sage " from 
 childhood, and who had spent at least two 
 thirds of his life in the saddle. 
 
 At last it came bed-time once more, and our 
 last evening at the camp in the gulch was 
 ended. Until to-morrow we would sink into 
 the oblivion of sleep, from which we should 
 wake to take our departure. How soon to- 
 morrow is to-day, and to-day is yesterday ! 
 Sunshine had scarce crept into the gulch ere 
 our tent was struck and our packs were ready. 
 But think us not too smart. Owing to the 
 height of the cliffs, the sunlight did not enter 
 the gulch till about nine o'clock. Still our 
 start would have been early, as it should have 
 been to make thirty miles, and to climb up 
 and down many times, had it not been for two 
 bronchos which refused to be caught. We had 
 to resort to the lariat, which we tried to avoid, 
 as it makes a wild animal all the wilder. John- 
 son easily threw a lasso on each of them, and 
 we led them down to the site of our. old camp, 
 where the packs were slung on, sinched on, 
 and sinched as tightly as our strength would 
 permit. 
 
 One moment more, and our riding-saddles 
 were on ; the train formed in line, and filed 
 slowly out of the gulch, and away from the 
 spot whose every stone had become familiar 
 
 * For the story of "The Lost Cabin," I refer any who are 
 interested to a number of the Oveiland Monthly, for about 
 
 December, 1872. 
 
THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 to our eyes. It seemed hard to desert the 
 place, and leave it to the coyotes and the 
 ravens. I looked behind as we reached the 
 summit of the bounding hill, to catch a fare- 
 well view of the rock-bound home. 
 
 There was the square of yellow canes which 
 had cushioned our tent; the little pine close 
 to the fire ; the stone seats ; the trail to the 
 spring. All was lying quiet as the grave, and 
 made me feel as though I were miles away. 
 Down poured the sun with his usual steadi- 
 ness ; lazily little wreaths of smoke curled up 
 from the smouldering fire. A raven sailed up, 
 and perched silently on the pine where our 
 beef had hung. Another, with motionless 
 wings, sailed in and out of the angles of the 
 cliffs, uttering a shout of, "Go-on, go-on, go- 
 on! " The advice was useless. The hills and 
 trees shut off the picture, and we were fairly 
 at sea. In a short time we climbed the kibab, 
 where our advance party had ascended, and 
 entered the forest. 
 
 Johnson said that one of the party had en- 
 countered a world of trouble. He was wear- 
 ing a broadcloth coat, which had done service 
 at his wedding some years before, and which 
 he prized very highly. He thought it would 
 be romantic to wear it through this country ; 
 it would add to its value as a family relic. The 
 horse he rode must have thought that a few 
 honorable rents would also add to its value, 
 for he persisted in going as close to the sharp- 
 pointed dead branches of the cedars as he 
 could without doing himself injury. So it was 
 that this man with the wedding-coat had to 
 keep a sharp lookout. As long as he watched 
 him, the horse behaved very well, and his rider 
 would begin to think that all was going on 
 right, and would relapse into fond recollec- 
 tions of distant home and friends, gradually 
 slacking the reins till the cayoose had his 
 head. Then, the first thing he knew, he would 
 find himself tearing through a mass of hard 
 branches ; and while the old coat yielded in 
 dozens of places without a sigh, its wearer 
 struggled hard to extricate himself from the 
 broken limbs that clung to him, and the 
 mountain-glades shouted back with exasper- 
 ating intensity the laughter of his companions 
 and his own unlimited curses. By the time he 
 got through the timber his dear old coat was 
 minus half a sleeve, part of the tail was gone, 
 and there was not a foot of uninjured material 
 to be found in it. 
 
 Although we regretted our old friend's mis- 
 fortune exceedingly, we could not help enjoy- 
 ing the story of his troubles. He was an ab- 
 surdly eccentric fellow any way; but his best 
 
 " hold *' was swearing. He swore so well that 
 it was only at extraordinary times that any 
 one else was called upon to attempt the feat. 
 He never started in for a few mild exclama- 
 tions not he. The way he did it was to reel 
 out yard after yard of blasphemy, until he was 
 obliged to stop for breath. Then somebody 
 would inquire, "What's the matter?" " O, 
 nothing," he would reply; "I can't find the 
 hammer," or, " My saddle won't stay sinched," 
 or something similar. 
 
 We laughed as we passed trees at intervals, 
 whose broken branches recorded the tale of 
 the aged wedding-coat. 
 
 The Pirate. 
 
 On account of the great weight of our packs, 
 we were compelled to move slowly; and "two 
 hours by sun " found us on the verge of a long, 
 beautiful valley, not very deep, but two miles 
 or more wide. When we arrived at its farther 
 side, we concluded that the day's work had 
 been enough for the stock, and we would camp. 
 We selected a sheltered spot in the thick ever- 
 greens, and threw off the packs. There was 
 no water; but small patches of snow here and 
 there would refresh the animals, and ive could 
 rely on the filled canteens, besides two small 
 water-kegs, which were full. 
 
 Wood was plentiful. An immense fire was 
 quickly built, and shot its flames up into the 
 clusters of green needles, making them crackle 
 merrily. The General went to work to get 
 the supper, with the assistance of the Pirate, 
 while we three that remained took the horses 
 out to an opening, where there was good feed, 
 and hoppled them. To hopple an animal is to 
 fasten its fore legs together, about eight 
 inches apart, just above the fetlock joint. 
 Any old rope or strap will do for a hopple; 
 but generally an " outfit " has straps made for 
 the purpose, with buckles. The object in hop- 
 
144 
 
 THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 pling, you can plainly see, is to prevent your 
 stock from wandering too far, and to make 
 them easier to be caught. Where grass grows 
 continuously, as in the east, " picketing " with 
 a lariat and stake would answer as well, per- 
 haps better. But where the " feed " consists of 
 bunch-grass, which grows, as its name in- 
 dicates, in bunches, the stock must be al- 
 lowed to travel in order to get enough to eat, 
 and still must be checked from going too far. 
 
 When the animals were all hoppled, we went 
 back to camp, and found supper ready. It 
 does not take long to prepare a mountain 
 meal. For bread, you mix the necessary 
 quantity of flour, a little saleratus, a double 
 amount of cream of tartar, and a pinch of salt. 
 Next, add water, to form dough, and after it 
 is sufficiently kneaded, it is placed in a Dutch 
 oven, which is then set on a bed of live coals ; 
 the lid is put on, and covered with coals, 
 and the bread left to bake. A Dutch oven is" 
 simply a flat-bottomed, circular, cast-iron ar- 
 rangement, five or six inches deep, and sup- 
 plied with a convex lid. 
 
 Sometimes bread is baked in frying-pans, 
 and is then called frying-pan bread. It is the 
 easier way, when the party consists of only 
 three or four. The dough is made into a thin 
 cake the size of the pan, and placed in it, after 
 the bottom has been greased by a piece of ba- 
 con, to prevent the loaf from sticking; then it 
 is held on the fire a moment, to give the bot- 
 tom some solidity, after which it is propped up 
 in front of the blaze by a stick, and soon puffs 
 up, or rises, and bakes through. 
 
 At supper we discussed a name for the fine 
 valley in which we were camped, and Johnson 
 suggested " Summit." 
 
 " Summit Valley let it be, then," said the 
 Captain, "since it is on the summit of the 
 plateau." 
 
 When the camp was arranged for the night, 
 a pack of cards made their appearance from 
 Johnson's catenas (pockets on the horn of the 
 saddle), and my four companions amused 
 themselves by playing euchre. 
 
 For no particular reason, I dislike cards, and 
 have never played; so I selected a spot under 
 a pine, close to the fire, which was cushioned 
 by the fallen spines, and, lying down, aban- 
 doned myself to reverie. 
 
 At intervals I would hear the Pirate exclaim 
 to his partner, " Now, don't let them bluff you, 
 General, don't let them bluff you," and similar 
 sayings. Following this would come the usual 
 discussion of card-players, as to whether this 
 or that card had been played right. The Gen- 
 eral ought to have trumped this, or played an 
 ace for that; Johnson didn't play this the way 
 
 the Captain had always played it before, and 
 so forth. I have never seen a game played 
 yet where there was not an astonishing amount 
 of mulishness shown on all sides. 
 
 Next morning we climbed the west line of 
 the valley, and after dodging through more 
 thick timber, and around gulches, we came 
 out upon the almost barren slope. A scene 
 spread out before us fully equal to the one 
 from the eastern edge. Mountains, canons, 
 and cliffs, cliffs, canons, and mountains, 
 everywhere. Johnson pointed out to us the 
 cliffs, lying some fifteen miles away, wherein 
 was located our next camping-ground. When 
 we emerged from the foot-hills, we found a 
 moderately level bottom, stretching away to 
 the cliffs. 
 
 About noon we passed round the head of a 
 mud canon, which began abruptly in a level 
 space. Had we not been fortified by the Cap- 
 tain's lecture on the Unknown River, we should 
 have been puzzled as to why it had broken in 
 so suddenly; but by thinking a moment, we 
 perceived that it was simply the last point to 
 which the action of an intermittent creek had 
 worn its " plunge." 
 
 As the sun our travelling gauge ap- 
 proached the western horizon, we drew nearer 
 our haven; and as he sank from sight, we 
 passed the first salient point into a gap about 
 a half a mile wide. 
 
 Several horses were seen grazing a short 
 distance off, and we knew that old friends 
 were near. Passing a chocolate-colored hill, 
 we turned to the right, into a sheltered gulch, 
 not unlike that of House Rock Spring, and, 
 suddenly emerging from a clump of cedars, 
 we saw, in an open space, two heavy wagons, 
 with snow-white covers ; a camp-fire ; heaps 
 of saddles, harnesses, rations, and so forth, 
 scattered around, and several individuals, all 
 of whom, but one, proved to be old friends, 
 and gave us a hearty welcome. A new mail 
 awaited us, and so much bustle going on 
 around made us feel almost as though we had 
 entered a large city. 
 
 When the inner man was satisfied, blazing 
 fires started up in different parts of the gulch, 
 and around them clustered groups of "gay 
 and free" explorers, some reading aloud, some 
 singing, others still reclining in warm corners, 
 with pipes or cigaritos in their mouths, and 
 meditating ; while the more practical were busy 
 testing new boots, hats, pantaloons, gloves, &c. 
 
 At intervals the envious yelps of the coyotes 
 from the brink of the cliffs resounded through 
 the camp, unusually close. They were always 
 sure to be on hand when anything was 0- 
 ing on. 
 
THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 
 
 H5 
 
 Presently two horsemen galloped in from 
 the settlement eight miles away. One of them 
 proved, to our surprise, to be the good old 
 Deacon, who sang so lustily about the place 
 where there would be no more sorrow. He 
 was well and hearty, and looked as spruce as 
 a city dandy, in his new clothes a proof that 
 his sickness had not harmed him any. 
 
 Our "warbler" favored us with choice se- 
 lections, such as " The Days of '49," " Always 
 Gay and Free," " Colleen Bawn,'' and so 
 forth, while the Captain made frantic efforts 
 to blow a tune out of an harmonica, which he 
 had picked up from amongst the rest of the 
 " traps." He had hinted to me that he was 
 going to strike out for civilization in the course 
 of a month, but gave no very good reason ; so 
 I did not heed his words. It came to pass, 
 however, that our companion of the gulch 
 did leave us for quieter scenes. 
 
 They say all good stories end with a mar- 
 
 riage. In order that mine may not lack that 
 redeeming quality, I will say that when the 
 Captain reached the city by the Salt Lake, he 
 proceeded no farther, but joined in matrimo- 
 ny's bond with a fair young saintess, who 
 managed to capture him.* 
 
 But I am trespassing. Properly, I finished 
 my record of the Camp in the Gulch when we 
 bade it farewell ; so, patient reader, as we join 
 in the following " doxology," let us shake 
 hands, and say, " Adieu." 
 
 " I had comrades then who loved me well 
 
 A jovial, saucy crew. 
 There were some hard cases, I must confess, 
 
 But still they were brave and true, 
 Who never flinched whate'er they pinched; 
 
 .Would never fret or whine ; 
 But like good old bricks, they stood the kicks, 
 In the days of ' '49. ' " 
 
 * This doesn't agree with what I said about the gallant 
 Captain in No. i ; but there is no help for it It's so. 
 
GETTING ON SEA-LEGS. 
 
 GETTING ON SEA-LEGS. 
 
 BY AN OLD SALT. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 HAVING a desire to see the world, and 
 meet with adventure, I went to sea in a 
 whaler. I had no doubt but what I would 
 enjoy myself at sea ; but when I got there, I 
 was a bit disappointed. 
 
 I enjoyed myself while sailing down the bay 
 
 the Narragansett Bay with the wind on 
 our starboard quarter. Its shores were ver- 
 dant and beautiful, and everything seemed 
 lovely, on that last morning in May. We 
 had been watching those verdant shores for a 
 week, almost, waiting for a fair wind~ and it 
 had come at last from the nor'-west. 
 
 The nor'-west wind carried us out 
 past Newport, till we were in sight 
 of Block Island, the first foreign 
 land we saw, as some one remarked, 
 
 and then it left us ; and then I 
 began to see the sea. My first recol- 
 lections of it are indistinct, yet I 
 retain impressions. I am confident 
 it had a greenish tinge, and it seemed 
 very uneven. I remember that I felt 
 
 disappointed. It was so different 
 from anything I had imagined, that 
 I could not help feeling disappointed. 
 
 I will not attempt to describe my 
 feelings more minutely ; for I do not 
 wish to work upon anybody's sympa- 
 thies ; and I doubt whether I could 
 express all I felt in such a way that 
 it would be understood by one who 
 has not been to sea. I will merely 
 say that I passed the last part of the 
 day in the lee scuppers, in a reclining attitude, 
 pensively meditating upon the sea, and look- 
 ing at it occasionally through the hole they 
 called the bow-port. At times the boat-steerer, 
 called Tom, or somebody else, would ask me 
 how it was coming on, meaning the sea, 
 probably, but I seldom made any reply. 
 
 They said it was calm ; but what made them 
 think so, was more than I could tell ; it did not 
 seem calm to me. There was no wind, it is 
 true, but there was a great deal of motion. 
 Whenever I looked out of the port and it 
 was quite often the green waters seemed to 
 rise up, in a mountain as it were, so high that 
 I could not see the top of it. I had read about 
 seas that were mountains high, and I saw that 
 it was all true. But what there was about them 
 that was grand or magnificent, was more than 
 I could understand. 
 
 At last they had supper, a few of them, 
 and night came. I didn't care much about it 
 then, and only mention it now because it must 
 have been at about that time that I began to 
 feel better. It was still calm, they said, and I 
 suppose it must have been ; but whether it 
 was or not, the boat-steerer, Tom, short and 
 dumpy, but a real good fellow, persuaded 
 me to drink about three quarts of salt water, 
 it don't take long to drink three quarts of salt 
 water after you get it a going, and pretty 
 soon I began to feel better. Tom staid by, 
 to keep me from going out through the port- 
 hole ; and finally he took what there was left 
 of me, and set it down beside him on the car- 
 penter's bench, abaft the try-works. 
 
 The moon was full, and I began to see that 
 it was really calm, although there was still 
 
 some motion. It was a beautiful night, I have 
 no doubt ; but I would much rather have been 
 at home. Tom showed me Block Island ; but 
 it didn't do me any good. Neither did the 
 shimmering of the sea, nor anything else that 
 I could see. How long I sat there I have for- 
 gotten ; but that was the way I ended my first 
 day at sea. 
 
 I was very light for a few days, but Tom 
 said it was most always so when one was 
 getting his sea-legs on. We got out of the 
 green water, to where it looked hard and blue, 
 and yet it was not attractive. It was only the 
 third night out, I think, that we had a blow, 
 and I had an opportunity to help shorten sail. 
 I would have preferred to stay on deck, but 
 having got the impression that every man 
 would be expected to do his duty, I went up 
 on to the main yard first to help furl the 
 
PERILS OF THE SEA. 
 
GETTING ON SEA LEGS. 
 
 149 
 
 biggest sail in the ship. It was very fortunate 
 that there was a strip of wood, called a jack- 
 stay, on top of the yard. I held on to it, and 
 edged away out, at the risk of my life, on a 
 foot-rope that brought my chin up about to 
 the top of the yard, and which, under the cir- 
 cumstances, seemed a very unsafe thing to de- 
 pend on. I didn't do so much furling as some 
 of them, but I was there, holding on. I had 
 no idea the sail was so large and so heavy, till 
 I went up there to help furl it. 
 
 But when the mainsail was stowed, we had 
 to go up over the top ; which also seemed a 
 dangerous thing to do. If I had fallen, I don't 
 think I should have known it, for I never knew 
 how I got up. But when I heard the mate's 
 order to hold on while he squared in the yard, 
 I knew I was there, away out half way to Tom, 
 who sat astride of the very end of the yard, as 
 unconcerned as if he had been born there. I 
 couldn't see, for the life of me, why he didn't 
 fall, particularly when the mate ordered us to 
 hold on. I should have obeyed that order had 
 it been only a request. Very likely it was in- 
 tended for Tom, and not for me. It seemed a 
 piece of recklessness on the mate's part to let 
 that yard loose while we were all on it. But I 
 found out that the object was to get the wind 
 out of the sail, so that we could handle it more 
 easily. Fortunately there were enough of us, 
 so that, with what little I could do, we were 
 able to manage it. When it was all over, and 
 we were down on deck again, Tom said I was 
 a capital hand aloft. He even hinted that I 
 must go to the earing with him every time. 
 
 Still I wondered what there could be that 
 was attractive about the sea ; and, particularly, 
 how those men could eat anything that came 
 out of that cook's galley ! The smell of it 
 was enough for me. And the cook ! I didn't 
 love him then ; for he was a bareheaded, bare- 
 breasted, barearmed, barefooted negro, with 
 perspiration streaming and glistening all over 
 him. How could the men relish their food ! 
 
 One of the old hands learned us the ropes, 
 we green ones, taking us round and call- 
 ing every rope by name. I had no idea there 
 were so many ropes in a ship before. There 
 were tacks, sheets, braces, halyards, reef- 
 tackles, buntlines, bowlines, clewlines, out- 
 hauls, downhauls, &c., &c., a large variety of 
 each, except the cook's kettle halyards, of 
 which there was but one, and we must know 
 just where to find each particular rope the in- 
 stant an order was given ; and how to haul on 
 it, too. At the same time we learned to box 
 the compass, and to steer the ship. 
 
 In a couple of weeks I knew the ropes, and 
 
 could take my turn at the wheel. Still I had 
 no appetite. I could eat hard tack, but any- 
 thing that came out of the cook's coppers was 
 too hearty. One wet night, when we had been 
 out about two weeks, I got the first thing that 
 tasted good. It rained that night, and I felt 
 very sorry. I never had been used to standing 
 out in the rain four hours at a time in the 
 middle of the night at home, and I was afraid 
 it wouldn't agree with me. I had some thought 
 of saying so to the second mate, in whose watch 
 I stood ; but remembering that he had on a 
 good water-proof suit, I concluded not to. My 
 clothes were not the kind that turned water, 
 and it seemed a cold sort of rain. 
 
 We men were allowed to stand in the lee of 
 the house, aft, however, where there was not 
 quite so much wind. I remember that some 
 of us talked about home, and the best way to 
 get there, and I got the impression that there 
 were others who were beginning to feel afraid 
 that the sea would not agree with them. The 
 fourth mate and the boat-steerers were with us, 
 and once in a while they would try to make us 
 laugh. Possibly I smiled once or twice, but 
 if I did, I have no recollection of it ; and it was 
 so dark that a smile could not have been seen 
 very far. When we had been there about 
 three hours, something touched me out- 
 wardly, I mean. I put out my hands to feel 
 what it was, and it seemed like a bread-bas- 
 ket; as I had suspected, from the squeak, it 
 might be. 
 
 " Take some," said a low voice, which was 
 Tom's; " it's all right." 
 
 There was something soft in the basket, and 
 I took thi-ee of them. They were cold biscuit, 
 as we would call them on shore, but at sea 
 they were " soft tack." The basket went 
 round, and every man took some. 
 
 Tom was rather short and dumpy for an 
 angel, but I sometimes thought he was almost 
 good enough to be one. It's possible he is by 
 this time. 
 
 While I was eating, a soft voice near me 
 said, " It goes to the right spot." 
 
 I understood just what it meant, for mine 
 went to the right spot too. It was the first 
 food that really tasted good to me after I got 
 to sea. It came by accident, or, I am not 
 sure but I might say, providentially. The 
 steward had been baking soft tack the evening 
 before an extra lot of it for the cabin -ta- 
 ble. His well-filled basket had been left near 
 the window in his pantry. The pantry was on 
 the same side of the house against which we 
 were standing, and the window a sliding 
 one had not been made fast. In rubbing 
 
GETTING ON SEA-LEGS. 
 
 against it, Tom made the discovery. Very 
 naturally he shoved the window clear back, 
 and began to explore. Very fortunately the 
 bread-basket was so near he could not miss of 
 it, and the result was as I have stated. 
 
 After that I began to pick up gradually. 
 The soft tack gave my appetite a start, as it 
 were, and before we arrived at the Western 
 Islands I could eat bean soup and duff with 
 any of them. My appetite for salt junk was 
 longer in coming ; but finally I could master 
 anything the cook had to offer. There is no 
 telling what a man can eat till he goes to sea. 
 To be sure I used to long for a little milk and 
 sugar to put in my tea and coffee, but I even 
 got over that before I had been at sea four 
 years. 
 
 Then, too, there was a lack of knives, and 
 forks, and earthen ware. All the crockery I 
 had and it was as much as any one had in 
 the forecastle was a tin pot that held a 
 quart, an iron spoon, and a little tin pannikin 
 for a plate. I took care of all these things 
 myself, washing them occasionally when 
 water was plenty, and cleaning them with 
 oakum when it was not. I used to pick up 
 all the fag-ends of ropes for dish-cloths. It 
 was plain enough that some of the old sailors 
 pitied me for being so nice. They did not 
 think it necessary to wash dishes more than 
 once a week, and some got along very well 
 without washing them at all. 
 
 I got sympathy of various kinds. The 
 second mate, Mr. Bowlegs, used to speak 
 kindly to me, when there was nobody else 
 about, and sometimes when I was at the wheel 
 the captain seemed to feel an interest in me. 
 I suppose it was seldom they got such a ten- 
 der sprig at sea. None of them seemed to 
 swear at me quite so hard as they did at the 
 others. Even the cook had pity for me. 
 
 I'll tell you how it was about the cook (" the 
 doctor " we always used to call him) the 
 black, shiny fellow! He first showed his 
 good-will towards me by calling me slyly be- 
 hind the galley, one evening at supper time, 
 before I had come to my appetite, and thrust- 
 ing into my hands some warm soft tack, a 
 part of his perquisite from the cabin table, 
 " Put them under your shirt and keep dark," 
 said he, in his husky voice ; and I knew very 
 well what he meant. He wanted my wash- 
 ing; that was all. 
 
 I was very willing that the doctor should 
 do my washing, all but the dishes, and after 
 that I had as clean clothes as any one. In 
 return I gave the doctor all the tobacco I had, 
 and some other things that I thought I would 
 
 have no use for. Of course I did not go to 
 sea without a supply of tobacco, expecting to 
 learn how to use it. I did make a few feeble \ 
 attempts in that direction before we weighed 
 anchor, but after we got to sea I was so dis- 
 appointed that I gave up my experiments, and 
 have never had a desire to resume them since. 
 I am getting along in years now, and I don't 
 think I should have enjoyed any better health 
 even if I had used tobacco. 
 
 One evening the doctor gave me a flying- 
 fish for breakfast. Think of that ! 
 
 The old lady whose sailor son told her about 
 flying fish, didn't believe in such things, be- 
 cause it didn't tell about them in the Bible. 
 But when he spoke about heaving up Pharaoh's 
 chariot wheels out of the Red Sea, it was all 
 right; because, according to the Bible, Pha- 
 raoh and his host were overwhelmed in that 
 sea; and no doubt she was glad enough of 
 it, not thinking what a weeping and wailing 
 there must have been among the poor women 
 and children at home. 
 
 But the doctor actually gave me a flying-fish 
 for breakfast ; fried, I think. At any rate, it 
 was fried or broiled. It was a breezy morn- 
 ing, and the fish flew on board our ship. Poor 
 fellow ! he didn't know what he was coming 
 to. We had just begun to wash off decks, 
 something I won't say anything about at pres- 
 ent, and there were flying-fish all around 
 the ship, darting from sea to sea; that is, 
 from the crest of one wave into another; 
 sometimes going several ship's lengths clear 
 of the water. It happened that the flight of 
 this one was arrested by the inclined deck of 
 our ship, and thus I got him. I gave it to the 
 doctor to cook for me, and he could hardly do 
 less than give it back, especially as he was my 
 washer-man. And so it happened that the 
 doctor gave me a flying-fish for breakfast. 
 
 And yet I was not happy. The sea had dis- 
 appointed me. The ship, too. The customs, 
 and the style of living that prevailed on 
 board, were not in accordance with my tastes. 
 I had been differently educated. I had a gen- 
 eral tendency to feel sorry, and very early in 
 the voyage I had made up my mind not to be 
 a sailor. I remembered the old farm, the 
 best place in all the world, and resolved to 
 improve the first opportunity that should 
 offer to return to it. I even spoke to the cap- 
 tain about it. He seemed pleased at my at- 
 tachment to the old place, but thought I 
 could do much better to stay with him. I 
 told him, " I had no idea he was going to make 
 so long a voyage. The shipping-master had 
 told me it would only be an eighteen months' 
 
GETTING ON SEA LEGS. 
 
 voyage; which I had thought would be as 
 long as I should care to be at sea the first 
 time." 
 
 The captain tried to make it easy for me. 
 " If we should have good luck." he said, " we 
 would not be gone more than three years, 
 and by that time I ought to be able to steer a 
 boat." He promised to teach me navigation, 
 too, and told me to come into the cabin that 
 very day, after dinner, and show him how I 
 could "figger." I got the impression that 
 there was a book in the cabin with a great many 
 figures in it ; but I got little encouragement 
 of reaching home till the end of the voyage. 
 I gained something, however; for after that I 
 spent an hour in the cabin almost every day, 
 for a time, making figures. I had never seen 
 so many figures before as I found in the cap- 
 tain's " Epitome." 
 
 I will just say here that the name of my 
 ship was North Light; the " Old North," we 
 used to call her. The captain's name was 
 Lancer, Captain Lancer, generally known 
 
 among the crew as the " Old Man." We 
 seldom called him anything else. We were 
 bound to the North-west Coast, by the way 
 of the Cape of Good Hope and the Indian 
 Ocean. And I will only remark further, in 
 this connection, that the voyage lasted just 
 four years. The ship arrived home in the 
 same month of the year in which she had 
 sailed away. 
 
 After my interview with the captain, con- 
 cerning home and the way to get there, I came 
 to the determination that I would be free. I 
 began to think of it as soon as I left the cap- 
 tain to go forward, and by the time I reached 
 the forecastle, had resolved to be free. "Give 
 me liberty or give me death," said Patrick 
 Henry, " and give me freedom," thought I. 
 
 I knew that I could never be free at sea, but 
 we were to touch at Fayal, it was all the talk 
 till we got there, and I supposed that then 
 we would all go ashore, for a few hours at 
 least. Then I would strike for freedom and 
 my native land. 
 
152 
 
 GETTING ON SEA LEGS. 
 
 GETTING ON SEA-LEGS, 
 
 BY AN OLD SALT. 
 
 PABT H. 
 
 I LOOKED eagerly forward for the Western 
 Islands. It was a hazy, soft summer day 
 when we first saw Flores, like a great bank of 
 smoke, away to the eastward. Almost at the 
 moment we first saw it, the ship lurched so 
 heavily, that our allowance of bean-soup, just 
 passed out of the galley for dinner, was cap- 
 sized upon deck, and went in diagonal lines 
 towards the scuppers. Shanks, who was at 
 the wheel, was accused of capsizing the soup 
 on purpose ; but probably it was all owing to 
 his trying to see the land. I am sure he re- 
 gretted the loss as much as any of us, for he 
 was affectionately fond of beans. The second 
 morning after that we were in sight of Fayal. 
 
 It was the Fourth of July, the day of all 
 others when thoughts of freedom come, and 
 I was still firm in my resolve. We had ar- 
 rived off the entrance to the harbor in the 
 night, and at sunrise the white walls of 
 the town were in sight, the ship running in 
 towards them. I put on some extra clothes 
 that morning, although the weather was warm, 
 and watched the shores, and the town we were 
 approaching, with much interest. 
 
 The island looked inviting, its attractions 
 increasing as we sailed farther into the bay, 
 past a yellow-walled convent, or church, on 
 the left. It was really a foreign land ; but I 
 felt very willing to stop there, till I could get 
 a chance to go home. To be sure, there might 
 be a difficulty in interchanging ideas with the 
 inhabitants ; but probably that could be over- 
 come. 
 
 Back of the town, whose low white walls 
 stretched around the head of the bay, were 
 beautiful green sloping fields stretching away 
 up the hills, surrounded by hedge-rows, as it 
 seemed at that distance. Some of these fields 
 were under cultivation, apparently, donkeys 
 and men being seen moving about in them. 
 The rising sun shone brightly over all, scarce 
 a cloud being in the sky. 
 
 We ran in till we were within a mile of the 
 town ; and then the ship was hove to. I was 
 not the only green hand who expected to go 
 ashore. Most of us were ready for an excur- 
 sion, and the old hands probably thought it 
 would be well enough to let us believe that we 
 would have an opportunity to enjoy one. But 
 again I was disappointed. When the main 
 yards were aback, the captain told Mr. Shooks, 
 the fourth mate, to lower his boat the star- 
 
 board quarter-boat. It was manned by a picked 
 crew, of whom Mr. Shooks was one, Tom 
 another, and the balance all regular old salts 
 who wouldn't run if they could. Then the 
 captain got in, and they pulled away. Then 
 I saw Captain Lancer's game, and my confi- 
 dence in him was greatly shaken. I never 
 had so good an opinion of Captain Lancer 
 after that. 
 
 As soon as the boat was gone, Mr. Plump 
 that was the mate ordered us to brace 
 forward ; and we were soon standing right 
 away from the town, out to sea again. I can 
 hardly tell how I felt, when I found that 
 nobody else was going ashore. I had been 
 so sure, all along, that I should stop at Fayal, 
 that I was for the time a little sore in spirit. 
 I wondered how any captain could have the 
 heart to treat honest and confiding men in 
 that way. It occurred to me, at last, that he 
 must have been a green hand himself some 
 time. 
 
 But there was no help for it ; and finding my 
 clothes rather warm, I went down and took 
 off part of them. Vain hope ! Fatal delusion ! 
 When should I ever see my home ? I thought 
 hard of my captain all day, and for some time 
 after. He looked like a guilty thing when he 
 came on board at night, and retired so quickly 
 to his cabin that I was sure he was conscious 
 of having done wrong. 
 
 We stood out, past the yellow building that 
 was on our right now, till we were half way 
 over towards Pico. The highest land I had 
 ever seen was right before me, but it did not 
 interest me much. The Peak of Pico rose 
 almost eight thousand feet directly from the 
 sea ; but it would have been all the same to 
 me if it had been only five thousand feet. 
 The water was covered with " Portuguese men- 
 of-war," all around us ; yet they did not look 
 very formidable. They were said to be capa- 
 ble of inflicting pain, however, and we were 
 advised not to go overboard among them. 
 The advice was well thought of, for there was 
 one, at least, who was meditating something 
 of that kind, should night come early enough. 
 
 Those "men-of-war" carried no guns. They 
 were merely little floating nautilae, provided 
 with membraneous appendages, of a pinkish 
 hue, which they raised above them and used 
 as sails. They were delicate-looking little 
 things, and very numerous. Their touch upon 
 one's flesh, when in the water, produces a 
 stinging sensation, and therefore, as the water 
 was literally covered with them, a swim towards 
 the shore would have been very painful, to say 
 the least. Having learned these things, I lost 
 all hope of reaching the shore in any way. 
 
GETTING ON SEA-LEGS, 
 
 At last we wore ship, and stood back towards 
 Fayal. It was nearly noon by the time we got 
 well in towards the town again, and not near 
 so cool and pleasant as it had been in the 
 morning. By this time our captain had made 
 purchases on shore, and we met a large shallop 
 coming off with supplies. It was accompanied 
 by several smaller boats, containing articles 
 to be yet disposed of on private account. We 
 hove to, and the boats all came alongside. 
 Then those who were in them spoke Portu- 
 guese ; and it was wonderful how much they 
 could talk in a short time. They had on 
 quaint steeple-crowned hats, and looked odd 
 in their dress generally. 
 
 The supplies consisted of hogs, covered 
 skeletons, as Short remarked, while he helped 
 one on board, fowls, potatoes, onions, and 
 four bushels of apricots. The apricots 
 looked nice ; but they were for cabin use. 
 The most I could do was to wish I lived 
 in the cabin. The hogs they were 
 funny fellows. They consisted mostly 
 of nose and tail. Between those points 
 they had not much to brag of. They 
 had no end of tail that we could dis- 
 cover. They wore them in ringlets a 
 fashion that used to prevail to some 
 extent among our own hogs. 
 
 There was nothing peculiar about the 
 fowls, or the onions and potatoes ; but 
 in the small boats were some fruits, 
 such as were in season, that we could 
 have by paying for. There were also 
 cheeses, pressed in little flat, round cakes, 
 that would weigh about a pound each. 
 The old hands seemed to know all about 
 them, and called them jackass cheeses. 
 I bought a few of them, and some fruit, with 
 a reckless disregard of cost ; and retiring to 
 a corner, refreshed myself, and found some 
 comfort still. 
 
 It was impossible to keep my eyes off those 
 swine while I was eating. There were about 
 fifty of them, and it seemed strange that the 
 captain should take so many such things to 
 sea with him. I wondered if any of them 
 would go into the cabin. One of them came 
 up and smelt of me with the end of his nose, 
 and I gave him some cheese. They seemed 
 inclined to be friendly, all of them. As we 
 were to be shipmates, it would be well to be 
 on good terms with them. It occurred to me, 
 as I watched them, that they were of the same 
 breed that ran down the mountain into the 
 sea. 
 
 The boatmen staid by till they could sell us 
 nothing more, and then they cast off and ran 
 back towards the town, while we stood out to 
 
 sea again. Returning, and running well in 
 late in the afternoon, we met the captain, who 
 had in his boat three Portuguese youth, whom 
 he was going to make seamen of. It was evi- 
 dent that the poor fellows had on their best 
 clothes, and I pitied them. If I could have 
 talked in Portuguese, I am not sure but I 
 should have told them how it was ; but not 
 one in the ship could speak to them in that 
 language, nor could they speak to us in ours. 
 As I have before remarked, the captain retired 
 quietly to his cabin soon after his return. Then 
 Mr. Plump once more headed the ship out to 
 sea again. 
 
 The breeze left us soon after sunset, and as 
 it was near the full of the moon, we had a 
 lovely night drifting upon the shimmering 
 sea between the shores of the two islands. 
 
 Having given up all hope of reaching either 
 shore, my mind was becoming resigned, to 
 wait for the next chance, and I was in a 
 measure prepared to enjoy the beauties of the 
 scene. I will not attempt to describe them, 
 as such beauties can hardly be appreciated 
 unless they are seen. 
 
 The next morning there was a breeze, and 
 when I turned out at breakfast time, having 
 had the morning watch in, we were running 
 to southward in the very shadow of the Peak 
 of Pica. It soon became known that we were 
 to touch next at the Cape de Verdes, for a 
 supply of goats ; to be companions for the 
 pigs, perhaps. (I am sorry to say the pigs 
 were all sick as soon as we got them fairly to 
 sea ; and not only the pigs, but the fowls, and 
 the three Portuguese youths. Poor things! 
 they all seemed disappointed.) 
 
 For two or three days I did not visit the 
 cabin ; but finally the captain ventured to 
 
154 
 
 speak to me again, when it was my trick at 
 the wheel ; and as I answered him kindly, he 
 invited me to resume my studies. After all, I 
 could not very well lay up anything against 
 him; he had the advantage of me, and, of 
 course, a right to use it. It was possible, I 
 thought, that I might do the same if I were 
 captain. So I forgave him as much as I could, 
 although I resolved that I would get on shore, 
 if possible, at the Cape de Verdes. I resumed 
 my studies, spending about an hour each day 
 in the cabin, as before; and again the captain 
 and I were on very good terms. 
 
 And now I will speak of the steward, with 
 whom I came in daily contact. He was very 
 black; blacker than the doctor, if possible, but 
 not so shiny. His was a more gloomy, som- 
 bre hue, like the darkness we see when we 
 can't see anything. That was the color of the 
 steward. He had a very large and very angu- 
 lar frame. He had but one eye, and that looked 
 always across his nose, as if hunting after the 
 other eye that used to be there. I never saw 
 a man with only one eye who squinted so 
 extremely before. On his head he always 
 wore a bright, stiff bandanna handkerchief, in 
 the form of a turban, so drawn down as to 
 cover his blind eye. I never saw, before or 
 since, on any other man, such a solemn, 
 mournful visage as that steward had. His 
 English, when speaking, was much broken. 
 It was said he was a native African, and I 
 have no doubt he was. He had a deep scar 
 upon one cheek, that looked as if it had been 
 made by a hot gridiron. In short, his general 
 appearance was such as to suggest that he had 
 been severely kicked by Fate. 
 
 This steward was the cabin housekeeper. 
 He was neat, and very efficient in his place. 
 He had the dispensing of all the luxuries that 
 went forward for the men, and therefore he 
 was respected. Soon after leaving the Azores, 
 he spoke to me one day, when I was pursuing 
 my studies alone. He wanted to learn to read, 
 he said, and he'd got a spelling-book in his 
 chest; wouldn't I learn him? I promised to 
 assist him, and agreed to meet him that night, 
 during the dog-watch, in his state-room a 
 little cuddy-hole with a berth in it just forward 
 of his pantry. 
 
 I kept my engagement, and found the stew- 
 ard ready with his spelling-book. It was a 
 new book, not a leaf soiled, and the old 
 fellow felt proud of it. We looked it through, 
 and turned back to the alphabet, and I tried to 
 learn him A. 
 
 " Now, steward," said I, " that's A ; the letter 
 we all begin with." 
 
 "I wanter know," said he; " less twig him 
 
 GETTING ON SEA LEGS. 
 
 Don't look sufF he'd be very hard to 
 
 agin, 
 lun." 
 
 Then we tried B ; and the steward seemed to 
 think he'd be a hard one. Finally he got an 
 idea. 
 
 "It looks like de darbies deys put on us 
 when we kick up dat rumpus in Callao. Ise 
 got him now, shuah." 
 
 Then came C. 
 
 "I doesn't quite unstan wat dey calls him 
 see for," said the steward. 
 
 My pupil had me there. For the life of me 
 I couldn't tell why they called him see, and the 
 best thing I could do was to go on to D. 
 
 When we had got through with about half 
 of them, the steward wanted to go back and 
 review. So we went back. He had forgotten 
 about A, but remembering the darbies, he was 
 just going to say B but couldn't think of it. 
 And it was so with all the others. Finally, 
 after several vain attempts to remember the 
 names of the different letters, he closed the 
 book in disgust. 
 
 " If dat's what you calls readin'," says he, 
 " dis chile kin get along well 'nuff widout it. 
 I don't wants no more book lurnin' for me." 
 
 I felt a bit relieved at this decision, and made 
 no effort to persuade him to another effort. 
 Nothing else occurred worthy of mention till 
 we sighted Fogo, one of the Cape de Verde 
 Islands. 
 
 Fogo was not the island the captain wished 
 to touch at, and it was not till two days after 
 that we were off Brava, when it was proposed 
 to land. I learned from Tom, who had it from 
 the fourth mate, who of course got it from 
 the captain, that ttvo boats were to land, and 
 that the regular crew belonging to each boat 
 would go with it. Of course, one of the boats 
 was the fourth mate's ; and the other was not 
 mine ; for I belonged to the bow-boat, which 
 was Mr. Sharp's, or the third mate's. I did 
 not stop ' to consider what sort of a place 
 Brava was, or anything about it, but having 
 advantage of this information, I determined 
 to make a desperate venture. Tom knew very 
 well that I was anxious to go ashore, though 
 he may not have understood the reason why. 
 I asked him if I might take the pla'ce of his 
 after-oarsman, if I could arrange it with that 
 man. He said it would be all the same to him, 
 he didn't care who went, though it was possi- 
 ble that Mr. Shooks or the captain might 
 object. I did not apply for leave to Mr. 
 Shooks or the captain, but went forward for 
 my man. 
 
 It was Shanks who pulled the after-oar in 
 Tom's boat, and to him I went, though with 
 no appearance of haste. " Shanks," says I, 
 
GETTING ON SEA-LEGS. 
 
 '55 
 
 " what will you take for your chance of going 
 ashore ? " 
 
 "I dunno," says he ; " what'll ye give? " 
 
 "That wasn't what I asked you ; what will 
 you take ? " 
 
 " Ye ain't such a darned fool as to think 
 we'll get a chance to go ashore are ye ? " 
 
 " I don't know," says I ; " it's possible some 
 of us will have a chance." 
 
 " Wai, I'll sell mine cheap. What'll ye 
 give for it, naow ? " 
 
 " I'll give you one of my red shirts, 
 Shanks." 
 
 "It's a bargain!" and Shanks clasped my 
 hand. " Bring on yer shirt." 
 
 The shirt was transferred to Shanks's chest 
 before plenty of witnesses, and I was sure of 
 his chance of going ashore, provided the 
 captain should not object. The price was cheap, 
 I thought, considering that the climate was so 
 warm there. I had three good woollen shirts 
 left, which would certainly be as many as I 
 would need should I stop at Brava. 
 
 The aforesaid bargain wag completed the 
 evening we arrived off the island. We were 
 to lie off and on through the night, and land 
 the next morning. When the morning came, 
 I dressed myself, before it was very light, 
 much as I had done at Fayal. That is, I put 
 on two shirts and an extra pair of trousers. 
 (Sailors never wear pants.) I was careful not 
 to make much show with my clothes ; and 
 when I was dressed, I put what money I had 
 left about two dollars, I think no scrip 
 among it in my pocket, and went on deck 
 to look at the land. 
 
 " It's a hard looking old place," said Shanks, 
 quite happy, evidently, that he had no chance 
 of getting to it. , 
 
 And so it was ; but even such a place was 
 better than none. It seemed only a great brown 
 mountain rising out of the sea. We could 
 see nothing green upon it, nor any sign that 
 anybody lived there. I said to Shanks, 
 
 " It's possible the old man has made a mis- 
 take." 
 
 The breeze was light, and it was very warm, 
 especially for two suits of clothes. By the 
 time we were through breakfast it was almost 
 calm ; the wind seemed dying out. We were 
 still some three or four miles from the shore ; 
 but we had been well exercised in the boats, 
 and it would not be much of a pull to reach 
 it. So, as soon as breakfast was over, the 
 order was given to lower the two quarter-boats, 
 and for their crews to man them. 
 
 "Darn it!" said Shanks. "I say, Eph, 
 you may have your shirt back: I don't 
 want it." 
 
 " Twas a fair bargain, Shanks." 
 
 " I know it; but you may have the darned 
 thing back I don't want it." 
 
 But there were witnesses at hand who put 
 Shanks to shame, and I went to take his place 
 in the boat. 
 
 "Where's Shanks?" inquired Mr. Shocks, 
 as I went down the side. 
 
 "He isn't going, sir; he ain't feeling well, 
 and I'm going to pull his oar for him." 
 
 "Out with it then, and give the stroke;'' 
 and elated by my success I went to work with 
 such a will that I was soon blinded by the 
 perspiration that trickled into my eyes. I sat 
 face to face with the captain, who never made 
 any remark whatever to me, though he talked 
 all the time with Mr. Shocks, and the drift 
 of his conversation was landward. He said 
 Brava was a fearfully unhealthy place every- 
 body had the yellow fever there. It was as 
 much as a man's life was worth to try to stay 
 there more than a few hours at a time. I 
 overheard and reflected upon what the cap- 
 tain said, and the perspiration poured down 
 me. It is possible that the captain suspected 
 I had some thought of staying there, and had 
 too much regard for my feelings to say to me, 
 directly, that the place was unhealthy. 
 
 It was very warm, as I will again remark. I 
 don't know how it happened to be so warm 
 that morning, unless it was because I had on 
 so many clothes. And it was a long way to 
 the little bay where we landed. It was a hot 
 little bay, or cove, with steep, craggy cliffs all 
 around it. The sun poured straight down 
 into it, and it was warm. I could only look 
 backward, while I was pulling, and could not 
 see what we were coming to ; but I got the 
 impression that it was quite a different place 
 from Fayal. I could hear the surf dashing 
 upon the rocky shores ahead, and right and 
 left, and a sickening odor sickening to me 
 came from the land. It was a smell of tropic 
 sweets and roasted earth, as it were, all over- 
 done. Presently there was a clattering of 
 tongues, Portuguese tongues, a braying of 
 jackasses, a bleating of goats, a squealing of 
 pigs, a crowing of cocks and cackling of hens, 
 harmoniously mingled with the roar of the 
 surf and we landed. 
 
 I could see no town, but I could hear all the 
 noises, and see where they all came from. My 
 first impressions were unfavorable. I thought 
 I would not like the island for a residence. 
 There was but a very small area of level 
 ground where we landed, the brown, barren 
 cliffs rising almost perpendicularly all around 
 it. Two or three huts could be seen near the 
 entrance to a ravine, that probably led to a 
 
GETTING ON SEA LEGS. 
 
 better country beyond ; and perched upon 
 shelves of the cliffs above, were two or three 
 more. That single narrow passage between 
 the mountain walls seemed the only way by 
 which people living beyond could reach or 
 leave the shore. Should I attempt it? I 
 could not at once decide. 
 
 There must have been a hundred natives 
 there to meet us. Probably there were many 
 more, and they had brought down a little 
 of everything that the island produced to sell 
 to us. They didn't know that I had only two 
 dollars in my pocket. Everything was so 
 strange, and so noisy, that I was almost be- 
 
 wildered. There was no cessation of the 
 noises I have mentioned ; everybody wanted 
 to sell, and everything seemed to want to be 
 sold. A goat with a very long beard looked 
 at me, and pleaded pitifully ; but I hadn't the 
 money to spare. A donkey with a sorrowful 
 face looked at me as if he had found a friend 
 at last ; but I couldn't take him. Perhaps I 
 might stay with him ; I could do no more. 
 
 There was nothing to go away from the 
 shore for unless one had special business, 
 like mine. There were rocks about, large 
 enough to sit on, and I went a little to one 
 side and. sat upon one, and looked about and 
 
 reflected. I had not been there long before a 
 fine-looking young Portuguese came to me, 
 and put a question. Says he, 
 
 "You know my broder, Joseef? You no 
 come Salem ? " 
 
 I was almost sorry that I didn't know his 
 brother, for I saw that he wanted to hear from 
 him very bad ; but I couldn't tell a lie. So 
 I had to tell him that I had never been to 
 Salem ; and he seemed disappointed. 
 
 "You 'Merican ! How dat, no go Salem?" 
 , I had to explain that every American did 
 not go to Salem ; but I thought he seemed to 
 distrust my sincerity. He was a fine-look- 
 ing fellow, neatly dressed, that 
 is, he had on a clean shirt, and 
 I would have liked to have told him 
 about his brother the more be- 
 cause I had a brother in America 
 also, whom I wished to hear from 
 very much. How he came to speak 
 English so well I could not under- 
 stand, unless he had learned it 
 expressly to inquire after his brother. 
 Before I was aware of it before 
 I was done sitting on that rock, 
 even the captain was ready to go 
 back ; he had bought all he wanted. 
 Tom came to me and told me so, 
 and of course I must wait till anoth- 
 er time. It was very hard, but it 
 was all fair. The captain had the 
 advantage of me. 
 
 We piled a lot of bananas, and 
 fowls, and other things into the 
 boats, and then, getting in our- 
 selves, pulled back towards the ship. 
 We were followed by two or three 
 boats that belonged to the island- 
 ers, bringing the goats, of which 
 the captain had bought a large 
 number. The weather had not 
 changed; still I did not feel quite 
 so warm while going back. We 
 reached the ship before noon, and 
 by dinner time all the goats were aboard, and 
 we were ready to go on our way again towards 
 the Crozets, in the Indian Ocean, where we 
 were to do our first whaling. 
 
 I couldn't help thinking of my shirt, or 
 rather of Shanks's shirt, which I had given 
 him, and which it occurred to me that I might 
 as well have kept. Shanks, evidently, was as 
 much dissatisfied as I was ; but it was too late 
 to trade back then. He did not know for 
 some time that he had the best of the bargain. 
 We stood to southward again ; and before 
 night Brava was almost out of sight. I had 
 fairly got my sea-legs on. 
 
WHALING ON THE CROZETS. 
 
 J 57 
 
 WHALING ON THE CROZETS, 
 
 BY AN OLD SALT. 
 
 I ALWAYS enjoy music. A hand-organ 
 does not disturb me. Indeed, I cannot 
 quite understand why so many people, who 
 seem reasonable in other things, should object 
 to hand-organs being played in the streets, 
 since it is so delicious to have music in the 
 air. The influence of music who can tell ? 
 It rouses to action, or it soothes the troubled 
 soul ; and it lifts us all heavenward. 
 
 Therefore I am in favor of organists, every- 
 where, and of every kind, because there is 
 everybody to hear, and some don't know one 
 kind from another. If I were to except any, 
 it would be the old lady who served under the 
 first Napoleon, whose notes are so faint and 
 squeaky. She is generally on the Common, 
 or thereabout. One would think that she 
 must have played at Moscow, and that her in- 
 strument took a cold on that occasion from 
 which it never recovered, so faint and squeaky 
 are its notes. It seems almost a pity that she 
 did not leave it behind her there. 
 
 But I would not exclude even this old relict ; 
 for, though so wrinkled and weather-beaten, 
 and turning out such unlovely sounds, she is 
 a sister of mine, and I pity her. She was 
 young once, and may have been handsome. 
 She had a father to love her as she has still. 
 Her Father is my P^ather. If pity is love, I 
 love her too. We should all love one another, 
 you know. I love her, and would let her 
 play, though her music be ever so shaky and 
 squeaky. Let her play ! 
 
 But I was going to remark that our black- 
 smith we called him " Smut " was one of 
 the "darnedest fiddlers," as Shanks expressed 
 it, that I ever knew. He was born a-fiddling, 
 he said, and it came so natural to him that he 
 couldn't help it, he had to fiddle. He used 
 to tell us that he had done nothing but kill 
 cats for a month, before beginning the voyage, 
 so that he would be sure to have strings 
 enough for his fiddle. The old Toms made 
 the best bass strings, but he preferred the 
 little kittens for the upper notes. 
 
 Every night, in pleasant weather, Smut 
 would bring up his fiddle, and " make it talk." 
 Then things would be lively. The waist of 
 the ship was the ball-room, and everyone who 
 could dance a jig, hornpipe, or breakdown, 
 performed; while Smut sat on the carpenter's 
 bench, and fiddled and cracked his jokes. I 
 used to think sometimes he would fiddle too 
 
 much. But no ill effects ever came from his 
 music, and I am quite sure now that a fiddle 
 is a good thing to have at sea. 
 
 And so, getting a little good at times, we 
 jogged along towards the Crozets. To the 
 southward of the Cape of Good Hope we had 
 a good deal of heavy weather, and there was 
 a wintry feeling about it that made heavy 
 monkey-jackets desirable. Indeed, the weather 
 was of that character all the way from the 
 Cape to the Crozets ; and so it continued even 
 after we had arrived there. 
 
 We found whales ; hardly a day passed with- 
 out our seeing them ; but they were shy, wide 
 awake, and hard to come at; and the frequent 
 recurrences of heavy weather made the matter 
 worse. There were times when a whale might 
 have blown without fear of harm under our 
 very cabin windows. On these accounts we 
 were not very successful. 
 
 We cruised for several weeks, but took only 
 four whales, I think, that we succeeded in cut- 
 ting in. Two were lost by its coming on to 
 blow, after we had got them alongside, so 
 heavily that we were obliged to let them go. 
 And one of those that we succeeded in cutting 
 in was first let go in the same way, but recov- 
 ered after the weather had moderated, and 
 after it had been adrift so long that it smelled 
 bad. It had become filled with gas, not 
 the kind that Professor Donaldson uses, 
 judging by the smell, though that smells bad 
 enough, which distended it enormously, and 
 shaped it somewhat like a balloon. We cut 
 that whale in, after a while, but I have never 
 loved whales since. 
 
 Hardly a day passed in which we did not 
 chase whales, unless it was really blowing a 
 gale. We pulled and pulled, sometimes all 
 day, without getting fast, Sundays as well 
 as other days. If a captain stops whaling be- 
 cause it is Sunday, it is an exceptional case. 
 It did not happen in the North-Light. I sup- 
 pose it is considered always a work of neces- 
 sity to take whales. 
 
 Sometimes we would get fast to a whale that 
 would run us almost out of sight of the ship. 
 More than once we had to cut and let our 
 whale go, after the ship was so low down that 
 we could see nothing of it but its topsails ; 
 and once, I remember, we did not get back on 
 board till long after dark. The result of so 
 much pulling was to make us good oarsmen, 
 if nothing more. 
 
 Stoven boats were not rare. Indeed, Smut, 
 who did carpenter's duty as well as his own, 
 had more than he could do to keep the boats 
 in repair. It was fortunate that we had so 
 
158 
 
 WHALING ON THE CROZETS. 
 
 many spare boats, for sometimes two or three 
 were waiting repairs at once. I will endeavor 
 to give an idea how one accident of this kind 
 happened. 
 
 One day, two or three whales were "raised" 
 at the same time, all near together. They 
 were at least two milea away to windward, and 
 the weather was a little rough ; but we low- 
 ered all the same in a great hurry, and pulled 
 for them. It would have done a fresh-water 
 man good to have been with us that day ; he 
 wotjld have got well pickled, at least. 
 
 The bow-boat, to which I belonged, almost 
 always took the lead in a chase ; for Mr. Sharp 
 was the most energetic of all the mates, and 
 Scamp, his boat-steeref, was in that respect 
 very much like him. They were both small 
 men, very compactly done up, and filled with 
 " pluck." One being in the bow and the other 
 in the stern, it was as if an electric current ex- 
 tended from one to the other right through us 
 who were between them, enabling us to out- 
 pull all the other boats' crews. 
 
 This time we reached the nearest whale 
 ahead of all the other boats, and our bows 
 actually touched his side ; and Scamp shoved 
 his iron deep into him before he was aware of 
 our approach. He breached upward, and rolled 
 as he sank back, the point of the fin that was 
 on our side falling upon the boat's gunwale, 
 crushing it down, but not quite upsetting us ; 
 and then, with a tremendous pat upon the 
 water with his flukes, he went down. 
 
 If so much lead had fallen straight down a 
 quarter of a mile, with our line attached, the 
 rope could hardly have gone out faster. It 
 disappeared from the tub with magical swift- 
 ness, almost setting the loggerhead round 
 which it spun in a blaze, and seemed but a 
 flashing line of light leaping through the boat 
 and out at the lead-lined chocks in the bows. 
 A very short time would have taken it all out ; 
 but before it was quite gone the whale stopped, 
 the line slackened, and we began to haul in. 
 
 "Now is our time !" said Mr. Sharp. "Round 
 it in ; he's ours, sure ! " i 
 
 It is not so light work as some might think 
 to haul a long whale-line straight up out of 
 the sea; but we got it in as fast as we could, 
 while Mr. Sharp changed places with Scamp, 
 so as to be ready to lance the whale. The 
 whale must have risen almost as swiftly as he 
 had gone down, for sooner than we expected 
 we heard the "whi-s-h" of his spout, and saw 
 his back above water. He was some distance 
 off, however, and immediately he started to 
 run. 
 
 " Haul in, men ! haul in ! " and we did our 
 
 best to get in what line we could before the 
 whale should have straightened out the slack, 
 never noticing that the second mate's boat was 
 fast to another whale that was running square 
 across our bows. In a moment, however, the 
 other whale crossed our course, and we heard 
 a warning cry just as our line tautened. But 
 it was too late ; we had barely time to see 
 what the matter was, when the waist boat 
 dashed into ours near the bows, and crashed 
 right through it. 
 
 There we were in the puddle, our boat float- 
 ing around us. All we had to do was to keep 
 our heads out till the first mate came and 
 picked us up ; for Mr. Bowlegs did not cut 
 from his whale not at all : he knew we could 
 take care of ourselves. 
 
 I will only add that our whale went off with 
 the line, and the few things attached to it, and 
 hasn't been seen since, to my knowledge. 
 Bowlegs went to windward as usual, returning 
 on board a little before dark, with the same 
 old story to tell. 
 
 And this was the kind of whaling we had 
 on the Crozets ; and it naturally made the 
 captain a little cross at times, and it seemed 
 as if a little of his sourness was imparted to 
 his officers and to the crew. We had many a 
 rough pull when it was of no sort of use to 
 chase whales, for if we had got fast to one we 
 could have done nothing with it. We would 
 come on board after a long chase, when it was 
 breezing up, and think we had got all done 
 for that day; but it would not be long till 
 " T-h-e-r-e she b-1-o-w-s ! " would come from 
 the lookout at the masthead, and down the 
 boats would go again, just because the captain 
 was " out of sorts." 
 
 It was a difficult matter to lower a boat and 
 get into it right side up, always. If we tried 
 to get in when it was coming up towards us, 
 it was liable to go the other way before we 
 could reach it, and perhaps we would fall 
 about ten feet farther than we expected to. At 
 least it used to serve me so ; and I never could 
 sefe any sense in lowering at such times, 
 though I never said a word about it to the 
 captain. 
 
 One day, when it was blowing unusually 
 fresh, we had returned from a long chase, with 
 nothing, as usual. The captain remarked to 
 Mr. Bowlegs, while the boats were being 
 hoisted up, that he didn't suppose one of the 
 mates cared a fig whether they got fast to 
 the whale or not. He said it in a friendly sort 
 of way, but Mr. Bowlegs felt it, and made re- 
 ply that he had certainly no reason to think so. 
 
 "You needn't talk back to me," said the 
 
MOONLIGHT ON THE WAVE. 
 
WHALING ON THE CROZETS. 
 
 161 
 
 captain, sharply; "all you have got to do is 
 just to fasten to the next whale you lower for, 
 or, by thunder, I'll put one of the green hands 
 in your place ! " 
 
 Mr. Bowlegs understood the folly of trying 
 to carry on an argument with the captain, and 
 the matter dropped. It was about four o'clock 
 in the afternoon. The sky was covered with 
 squally-looking clouds, the white caps of the 
 seas were flashing all around us. It looked as 
 though we should have a rough night. No one 
 thought that we should lower again that day. 
 Mr. Bowlegs had a troublesome beard ; it re- 
 quired shaving often, and he never underwent 
 that operation . without shedding tears. To 
 console himself, it may have been, after the 
 captain's rebuff, he went down to his little 
 state-room to have a shave. Mr. Bowlegs had 
 progressed to that point where those who have 
 tears to shed begin to shed them, and a little 
 farther. In fact, he had scraped one side of 
 his face, round to a line perpendicular with 
 his nose, the other side being covered with as 
 thick a coat of lather as he had been able to 
 put on. At that point his razor stopped, and 
 he listened. 
 
 It was that same familiar cry, he could not 
 mistake it, "The-r-e b-1-o-w-s ! The-r-e 
 b-1-o-w-s ! " He could not mistake it, even 
 though he was down below in his state-room, 
 with his face half covered with lather. What 
 should he do ? Before he could decide, there 
 was another cry at the door of the house that 
 covered the companion-way, and he recog- 
 nized the captain's voice. " Stand by the 
 boats ! " it said ; and, no longer mindful of the 
 lather, Mr. Bowlegs dropped his razor, and 
 responded to that call. 
 
 I well remember how he looked as he rushed 
 out of the cabin and into his boat, which was 
 already going down the side, his face just half 
 covered with lather. We were all pleased, 
 especially when the captain called after him, 
 gleefully, "Go it, Bowlegs; you'll catch 'em 
 this time ! " 
 
 It was rather hard on Mr. Bowlegs, who was 
 a good friend to me, but I had to laugh. The 
 captain ordered the boats down only to plague 
 Mr. Bowlegs, probably, for it was "no weather 
 for fishing," and he called us back before we 
 were out of hail. 
 
 But chasing whales is not the worst part of 
 whaling, to a delicate organization. There is 
 work to do after a whale is alongside dirty 
 work, in which oleaginous matter accumulates 
 all over you, and over all the ship. There is 
 work, and smoke, and gurry, till the whale is 
 tried out. We have plenty of oil in our hair, 
 ii 
 
 and plenty in our clothes. We take a little 
 inside, also, in the way of scraps, fried steaks 
 of whale's flesh, and, should the captain be 
 generous, fried doughnuts, just to preserve 
 the equilibrium, as it were. It's wonderful 
 how much oil a whaleman can absorb. 
 
 There is an unsatisfying odor, too, that per- 
 vades the ship while the boiling is going on. 
 It is not like the sweet smell of spices, or the 
 rich perfume of tropic lands not at all. It 
 is a smell of burning scraps and boiling oil, 
 and the yet uncooked blubber, so mingled, 
 and so impressing itself upon you, that you 
 never forget it. You cannot escape it ; though 
 you go up into the top, or descend into the 
 hold, or enter the sacred precincts of the cabin, 
 if you have any business there, you are 
 still in the midst of it. And yet it can hardly 
 reach to the tip end of the flying jib-boom, 
 when the ship is on the wind, and it is blowing 
 fresh ; but there is hardly room for a whole 
 ship's crew to sit there at once. Although it 
 is not a pleasant smell, the mates all seem to 
 like it, and the captain smiles sweetest when 
 it is thickest. And all good whalemen endure 
 it calmly, because it gives assurance that their 
 ship is filling up. 
 
 Much might be said of whales, but it has 
 nearly all been said before. The whale has 
 points that cannot fail to interest any one who 
 gets very near to him ; and the most striking 
 of these, I may say, is the tail, otherwise called 
 " flukes." He has a dangerous habit of lifting 
 it when he becomes aware that an enemy is 
 near; and there is no dodging it when it 
 moves : a dark flash, and it is all over. It is a 
 great deal heavier than it looks to be. You 
 might as well be in the way of a cannon-ball. 
 
 I found the tail always interesting when we 
 were fast to a whale ; but after we had killed 
 him and were cutting him in, my attention 
 was generally turned to the head. A right- 
 whale's head is so different from all other 
 heads, that one wonders at it. In forming it, 
 the Almighty seems to have designed that this 
 greatest of all animate things should subsist 
 on a kind of food peculiar to itself. Whalemen 
 call it " squid." Probably professors call it by 
 some other name ; but whalemen care little 
 about that. 
 
 " Squid" is a soft, jelly-like substance found 
 floating in large fields in those parts of the 
 ocean the whale most frequents. To under- 
 stand how he feeds upon it, we must know 
 about his head ; and I will first say that it is 
 very large in proportion to his body. This 
 might lead one to infer that the whale has a 
 large stomach also, which is not the case. In- 
 
162 
 
 WHALING ON THE CROZETS. 
 
 deed it is affirmed that a right-whale can swal- 
 low nothing larger than a herring; which, if 
 true, would prove conclusively that it could 
 not have been a right-whale that swallowed 
 Jonah. 
 
 Instead of teeth, the right- whale has set in 
 the upper part of its mouth, upon each side 
 of a strong bony keel, as it were, slabs of bone 
 the common black whalebone of commerce. 
 According to a description I have lately seen, 
 " these slabs are from eighteen inches ?o ten 
 feet in length, shaped somewhat like a blade 
 tapering to a point along the entire length, on 
 one side being quite thick, nearly two inches, 
 and on the other coming almost to an edge, 
 which is fringed with filaments resembling 
 very coarse hairs. The slabs are attached to 
 the palate by their bases, hang down into the 
 mouth, and, from being placed transversely, 
 their edges are parallel and at a very small dis- 
 tance from each other, the base of each, as 
 well as the outer edge, being composed of 
 solid whalebone, while the inner edge termi- 
 nates in a filament of the fibres mentioned, 
 which fills up the whole interior of the mouth 
 like a curtain set across it." 
 
 This description looks a little misty at first ; 
 but by reading it over several times, one can 
 get the hang of it and understand it pretty 
 well. If the commas had held out, most likely 
 it would have been made plainer. 
 
 When the whale feeds, he simply opens his 
 mouth, and rushes forward till it is well filled, 
 when he closes it and ejects the water, the 
 hairy filament that lines the mouth acting as 
 a strainer to retain all else within it, and then 
 he swallows his food. Repeating the process, 
 he goes on till he has completed his meal, or 
 till something disturbs him, for he is not al- 
 ways allowed to take his dinner in peace. 
 
 I would like to give the measurement of 
 some of our whales ; but, if I ever made any 
 figures, I have lost them, and cannot do it 
 now. Those we took on the Crozets were 
 small, compared with those I saw on the 
 North-West Coast. I think they averaged 
 about one hundred barrels of oil each, and 
 were perhaps sixty or seventy feet in length, 
 with a breadth of beam of, say eight feet. On 
 the North-West our whales must have aver- 
 aged near two hundred barrels each. Once 
 we captured two together that made us over 
 five hundred barrels of oil. I suppose those 
 were about as large, possibly the largest 
 whales that were ever taken. There was hard- 
 ly any perceptible difference in their size, and 
 they must have been nearly one hundred feet 
 in length. When secured alongside, they 
 
 reached from the bow port of our ship clear 
 past the stern. Monstrous gray old fellows 
 they were. 
 
 The whale has some interesting peculiarities. 
 He always runs dead to windward to escape 
 pursuing boats ; and it would seem as if he 
 must be guided by something like reason in 
 this, certainly, for it is the very best course he 
 could possibly take. Owing to this, we got 
 many a wet ride ; for to be drawn at the rate 
 of twelve or fifteen miles an hour through 
 combing seas, in a small boat, with a taut line 
 keeping the bows well down, is not conducive 
 to dry shirts. 
 
 And when a whale dies, they say he turns 
 his head to the sun. Whether this is merely 
 a whaleman's notion or not, I cannot say. I 
 was always thinking of something else about 
 the time the whale died, and forgot to notice 
 where the sun was : but one thing I can safely 
 say: he makes things lively just before he 
 goes. At last the lance has touched a vital 
 part, and the huge victim spouts out the thick 
 red life-blood, crimsoning the water all around, 
 till it is almost gone. Then comes the "flur- 
 ry." Sweeping round and round in a narrow- 
 ing circle with fearful velocity, he lashes the 
 blood-red water into foam with his flukes ; and 
 woe to the boat that comes in his way. At 
 last his struggles tease ; life is gone ; and the 
 boats, that have been careful to keep at a safe 
 distance, approach, and taking the inanimate 
 mass that has made such fearful struggles in 
 tow, proceed slowly towards the ship. To be 
 stripped of his blubber and boiled down, is, 
 after all, the pitiful end of one of God's 
 greatest works. 
 
ACROSS THE INDIAN OCEAN. 
 
 163 
 
 AOEOSS THE INDIAN OCEAN. 
 
 BY AN OLD SALT. 
 
 ST. PAUL. A LITTLE UNPLEASANTNESS, AND 
 A FEARFUL GALE. 
 
 I WAS glad enough to leave the Crozets; 
 especially as I could have no chance of 
 escape from the ship till we should have gone 
 on much farther. Shortly after, it was re- 
 ported that we were to touch at St. Paul a 
 lone bit of rock and earth in the very heart of 
 the Indian Ocean. I hoped I should be able to 
 get ashore, even there. With hardly a thought 
 of how I should ever get away, I was deter- 
 mined that if I could set foot on land I would 
 remain there. 
 
 Nothing happened worth mentioning till we 
 reached St. Paul, unless it was a gam with a 
 Frenchman ; and I am not sure that that is 
 worth mentioning. I remember it distinctly, 
 because of the little French doctor that came 
 on board of our ship, with a little red cap on 
 his head. He couldn't speak a word of Eng- 
 lish, but he talked all the time, and I got well 
 acquainted with him ; which I should not have 
 done if I had lived forward. 
 
 Ever since I had lived in the steerage, I had 
 had free access to the cabin ; the captain really 
 treating me very kindly, giving me, besides 
 duties to perform, books to read, charts to 
 study, and once in a while a cake to eat. The 
 cakes were some that his wife had made, he 
 said ; and they were very nice. He seemed to 
 love to tell me about his wife and daughter, 
 she was about my age, he said, and about 
 his new house, that he had .built for them 
 how nice it was, and how much it cost, and 
 how he expected to live there with them him- 
 self some time. Just think of such a man go- 
 ing away, to be gone four years, where there 
 were no railroads, steamboats, mail-routes, or 
 anything of the kind ! He couldn't expect to 
 hear from his wife and daughter very often. 
 Just think of his telling me all about them, 
 while I sat munching his cakes, determined in 
 my heart to leave him secretly at the first op- 
 portunity ! I must have been very ungrateful 
 or very homesick. I would rather admit it 
 was the last. 
 
 But the little French doctor, he talked at 
 me, and seemed determined to open commu- 
 nication in some way. At last he caught hold 
 of me, and set me down upon a settee in the 
 house, and almost before I knew what he was 
 about, he had my mouth open, and was in- 
 specting my teeth. He went to work on them, 
 Ualking all the time, and all I could do was 
 
 just to say, " Ugh," in reply. I don't think he 
 helped them much. I had not been conscious 
 of any serious defect in them before, but 
 shortly after I began to have trouble ; and it 
 lasted till Mr. Plump took my head between 
 his knees one day, on the booby-hatch, and 
 with a hideous, old-fashioned thing, drew out 
 one of the biggest teeth I had. Of course I 
 shall always remember that little French 
 doctor. 
 
 A ** gam " is a mutual sort of visit between 
 two ships' crews. One or two boats' crews 
 from each ship go on board the other, and 
 spend an hour or two, or a whole afternoon. 
 These visits are peculiar to whalemen, who 
 often indulge in them while cruising and not 
 otherwise engaged. This Frenchman was a 
 whaler, like ourselves ; one of the few of that 
 nationality that we met in the course of our 
 voyage. 
 
 We made St. Paul on a cloudy, gloomy day. 
 It was a desolate, dreary-looking place what 
 little there was of it. It was night before we 
 got very near to it, and we ran off and on till 
 morning. In the morning the clouds looked 
 lighter, but the sky was still overcast, and the 
 lone little isle looked dreary enough. And 
 yet I would have gone ashore and remained 
 there if I could ; for I saw a house on the 
 island, which assured me that somebody lived 
 there. 
 
 But the captain had no idea of going ashore 
 himself, even. It soon appeared that his only 
 object in touching there was to catch some 
 fish. St. Paul was noted among whalemen for 
 the fine fish that abounded around its rocky 
 shores, and our captain had probably fished 
 there before. As soon as breakfast was 
 over, two boats were lowered, neither of 
 them mine, and, being manned by their 
 crews, and the captain besides, were pulled in 
 towards the dark cliffs till they were lost to 
 sight beneath them. 
 
 We kept the ship off and on, running in at 
 times directly opposite to the one solitary 
 house that stood at the foot of the cliffs, but 
 saw no living soul upon the island, nor any 
 other sign of one. The house was a great 
 barn-looking structure, and I much doubt 
 whether any one was in it at that time. Al- 
 though it was such a solitary, forbidding place, 
 I could not but feel disappointed, I was so 
 longing to set foot again on firm land. 
 
 Soon after noon the clouds began to draw 
 closer around us, covering the sea with their 
 misty skirts, and shutting us in with the 
 desolate isle, as if it were their will that we 
 should stay. The waters grew dark, though 
 the curling crests of the waves flashed more 
 
164 
 
 ACROSS THE INDIAN OCEAN. 
 
 brightly, and everything was gloomy and de- 
 pressing. 
 
 We ran in towards the boats and met them, 
 loaded well down with the fish that had been 
 caught. They were fine-looking fish ; but for 
 all that, I felt gloomy and disappointed. I 
 had waited long and come thousands of miles 
 for that chance, and now I must go thousands 
 of miles for another ; and so much farther 
 from home. The boats were hoisted to their 
 places ; the ship kept on her course, steering 
 away into the gloom south-eastward, and 
 we spent the rest of the day in cleaning fish ! 
 Thus sometimes end men's hopes in the mist 
 and darkness here below; but we all know 
 there is a clear sky above. 
 
 In a few weeks after leaving St. Paul, I was 
 as far from home as I can ever be in this world. 
 We crossed almost our exact antipodes, our 
 course carrying us to southward of Tasmania, 
 VanDiemen's Land, as it was then called, 
 so as to strike the most southern point of the 
 New Zealand coast. 
 
 While making those long runs from point 
 to point of our weary voyage, the time passed 
 very monotonously. The most trivial incident 
 became interesting, and any occurrence out of 
 our usual dull routine was a thing to be re- 
 membered. A little trouble had been brewing 
 with the steward, which culminated about the 
 time we reached our antipodes, and which I 
 will not pass over. 
 
 I have already explained that the steward 
 was possessed of a great deal of unattractive- 
 ness externally, and, unfortunately for him, he 
 took no pains to counteract any false impres- 
 sions his outside appearance might produce. 
 He was not suave. His smile was always a 
 gloomy one, and evidently, judging from the 
 cast of his eyes, not intended for you. When 
 he spoke to you, he looked at the mainmast 
 with one eye, and off the starboard beam with 
 the other. Such a man could never have 
 much success in making love, especially with 
 other men, and he was never in high favor 
 with the " people " forward. 
 
 But worse than this, he was saving; and he 
 saved for the ship's interest, or rather for 
 the owners. Or it may have been for neither, 
 but because it was so natural for him to save. 
 He had charge of the cabin stores, and of all 
 except the fundamental articles of diet that 
 were to be allotted to the people. The tea, 
 coffee, molasses, dried apples, all came 
 through him, and were savored with his stin- 
 giness. The people murmured, and looked 
 upon the steward with evil eyes. The coffee, 
 especially, was so weak, that their complaints 
 
 could not fail to reach the steward's ears, 
 though he seemed to heed them not. Thus 
 it was forward ; and when I went to live in 
 the steerage, it was still more so there. The 
 cooper threatened vengeance on " that nigger " 
 every morning, when the coffee came down. 
 
 The doctor, that is, the cook, who was 
 as generous hearted as the steward was stingy, 
 had attempted to show the cabin functionary 
 the injustice of his course, venturing to speak 
 in behalf of the people. The steward would, 
 listen in impressive silence, till the doctor 
 was all through, and then reply with dig- 
 nity, 
 
 "Doctor, dese people don'no when dey's 
 well off. Dey gets good libin' all dat b'longs 
 to um, and den dey wants more. I tells j^e, 
 doctor, it's no use talkin' ; dese folks can't pre- 
 shate it." 
 
 And then, with his eyes turned heavenward, 
 as nearly as he could get them, he would 
 shamble aft again, his hands filled with good 
 things for the cabin table. 
 
 This continued till Bungs, for one, thought 
 endurance no longer a virtue. One day the 
 doctor reported a remark of the steward's to 
 this effect : 
 
 " You knows, doctor, dat what we's got to 
 do, is to do our duties; an' you knows, too, 
 doctor, dat our duties is to take care ob de 
 perwishuns, what's in de ship. De tea and 
 coffee b'longs to de owners, an' I sail use um 
 'cordin? to de bess ob my judgment ! " 
 
 Then Bungs, forgetting to whom vengeance 
 belongeth, took a solemn oath that he would 
 have it himself; and the steward was made to 
 feel the weight of his wrath the next morning, 
 the coffee being at that time unusually weak. 
 He filled his pot from the bucket, after I had 
 set it down upon the deck in the centre of our 
 little apartment, and tasted it. His visage 
 lowered, and he set the pot down upon his 
 chest. Without uttering a word, he rose and 
 took up the bucket and went to the foot of the 
 steerage stairs, where he silently waited. Soon 
 he heard the well-known shuffling feet of the 
 steward, as he passed the hatchway going for- 
 ward to the galley. Then, with the bucket in 
 his determined grasp, he darted lightly up the . 
 steps, and sprang after his victim. I was just 
 in time to see the bucket come down with 
 crushing force, apparently, upon the steward's 
 head. 
 
 But he did not fall. Instead, he took two or 
 three quick steps forward, and then turned, 
 with an astonished look, and asked sol- 
 emnly, 
 
 "Who hit me wid dat bucket? Bress me, 
 
TETE EQUINOCTIAL, 
 
ACROSS THE INDIAN OCEAN. 
 
 167 
 
 cooper, was dat you ? Wha' for you go spoil 
 de bucket in dat way?" 
 
 The bucket had rolled into the lee scuppers, 
 evidently in a damaged condition. 
 
 "Never mind the bucket, darky. I ought 
 to have known better than to smash it on your 
 confounded pate, of course ; but mind ye, I'll 
 use the adze next time ! " 
 
 "What's I done, cooper? What's you got 
 'ginst me? I allers does my duties don't I?" 
 
 " I say, old squint, we won't have any trou- 
 ble ; but if you don't give us better tea and 
 coffee, and a full allowance of all that be- 
 longs to us, I'll let daylight into you in some 
 way ; mind that ! " 
 
 It was a plain way of putting things, but it 
 had the desired effect. We had better coffee, 
 at least it was thicker and blacker ; and it was 
 evident in other ways that the steward's liber- 
 ality had been much enlarged by the cooper's 
 treatment. 
 
 It may seem that the proper way in this case 
 would have been to go to the captain, and 
 request him to remedy the matter. Though I 
 do not know that any direct complaint was 
 made to him, he heard of the trouble through 
 the officers, and it was understood from them 
 that he preferred that the men should settle it 
 with the steward themselves. 
 
 After this affair we had little to enliven us 
 for a time. The next thing I remember of in- 
 terest, was a gale we experienced off Van Die- 
 men's Land. A gale at sea is nothing unusual, 
 and of course we had experienced more or less 
 of what might be called gales before reaching 
 Van Diemen's Land ; but the one we there 
 encountered was really frightful. 
 
 It was a cold, gloomy morning when it be- 
 gan to blow. The sun shone dimly when it 
 rose, but was soon wholly obscured by thick, 
 fleecy, driving clouds. We began to take in 
 sail, stowing and reefing as the gale increased, 
 till there was nothing exposed but a close-reefed 
 fore-topmast, main-topsail, staysail, and main 
 spencer. It seemed then as if old yfColus was 
 doing his best to di-ive us from the very face of 
 the deep. Yet the gale increased, continually, 
 till by midday its force was terrific. We were 
 awed by it, but had our dinners nevertheless, 
 the captain saying it would be better to go 
 down with full stomachs. 
 
 The captain did not give much time to din- 
 ner, however, and after it was over, he stood 
 constantly at an open window in the house, 
 watching the main-topsail. We had already 
 attempted to get in the spencer. The ropes 
 had been manned, that it might be brailed up 
 quickly, and the outhaul was slackened care- 
 
 fully; but the instant it began to yield, like a 
 flash, and with a tremendous crack, the sail 
 was driven against the shrouds, pressing be- 
 tween them so firmly that all our strength could 
 not remove it. Every moment we expected to 
 see the topsail torn from the yard, or the yard 
 carried away; but everything held, and the 
 afternoon passed without accident. 
 
 The seas were not high, for the pressure of 
 the wind kept them down ; but the ship was 
 tossed by the very force of the gale, quivering 
 and plunging in a way that most of us had 
 never seen before. The ocean was ploughed 
 into furrows of foam, and the air was filled 
 with driven spray. 
 
 The gale raged with the same fury through 
 the day, and when night came, it seemed more 
 terrific, if possible, than before. The thick 
 driving clouds shut out all light but the fitful 
 flashings of the foaming sea. The winds 
 shrieked above, and the strong timbers 
 creaked and groaned below. At times the 
 deep surging of the ship would cause the bell 
 upon the forecastle to strike a dismal note of 
 warning, as it were, of our impending doom. 
 It was a fearful, and besides, a very uncom- 
 fortable night; for we were wet, stiff, and 
 chill with the driven spray. 
 
 Through another day, and till the middle 
 of another night the gale raged, though not 
 with the same fury as at first. During the 
 second day the sun's rays reached us occasion- 
 ally, though they seemed always to have been 
 almost spent in struggling through the clouds, 
 and in a little while would fade out and be 
 gone. The seas rose higher as the wind 
 abated, so that our danger was increased 
 rather than diminished. Before night of the 
 second day, the great rolling waves were 
 frightfully grand. It seemed as if the ship 
 would certainly be covered and go down be- 
 neath them. Their shocks made her strong 
 frame tremble ; and she would stagger, and 
 go down, as if it were her last struggle, but 
 always rise, to breast them again. At times 
 the yard-arms would dip, and the ship go al- 
 most upon her beam-ends ; but the huge wave 
 would lift her high upon it, and rolling on, 
 she would sink again to meet another. 
 
 On the second night of the gale it came my 
 turn to stand at the wheel for two hours, 
 from ten to twelve it belonged to me to steer. 
 Of course there was little steering to do, yet 
 I was not allowed to be at the wheel alone on 
 such a night. Phil Southwick, an old sea- 
 man, went to stand my trick with me, to keep 
 the spokes from being wrenched out of my 
 hands, and be responsible for what might hap- 
 
1 68 
 
 ACROSS THE INDIAN OCEAN. 
 
 pen. It was not a bad place to be, for it was 
 the driest part of the ship, and the light from 
 the lamp in the binnacle looked cheery. 
 
 " Ease her when she pitches," said Mr. 
 Bowlegs, as we took our places ; and with a 
 confident 'Ay, ay, sir,' Phil gave him to un- 
 derstand that he could trust us. 
 
 But we could not save her with all our eas- 
 ing. At last, just before the watch was out, a 
 tremendous sea fell upon her bows, throwing 
 her head off suddenly and covering the deck 
 with water, and the next moment another 
 struck upon her starboard quarter, lifting the 
 stern so high and so suddenly that the binna- 
 cle was capsized and went crashing to leeward, 
 and there was what sounded like a grand 
 smash of crockery in the direction of the 
 steward's pantry. Besides, the starboard quar- 
 ter-boat was crushed up under the davits and 
 broken completely in two. 
 
 It was very dark for a time ; but Mr. Bow- 
 legs found his way to us, and wanted to know 
 " what in thunder we were about," just as if 
 we had done it on purpose. We heard the cap- 
 tain's voice, too, inquiring who was at the 
 wheel. 
 
 " It's me and Eph, sir," said Phil ; and the 
 captain knew as much about it as before. Mr. 
 Bowlegs got another light, after a while, and 
 then we could see each other, and what had 
 happened. By the time the extent of the dam- 
 age had been ascertained, and the binnacle 
 righted and again secured in its place, our 
 watch was out, and we were relieved from all 
 further responsibility. 
 
 Nothing more serious happened, and by day- 
 light next morning the danger had passed. 
 The sun rose in a clear sky, there was only a 
 gentle breeze blowing, and the seas were rap- 
 idly subsiding. The only damage we had sus- 
 tained was the stoven boat, and the parting 
 of one or two futtock-shrouds under the main- 
 top, though, perhaps, I ought to include the 
 steward's crockery, which, although the pieces 
 were greatly multiplied, suffered no small loss. 
 
 But a ship with which we had kept compa- 
 ny all the way from the Crozets was less for- 
 tunate. We had seen her several times during 
 the first day of the gale, like some dim phan- 
 tom craft driven by the storm, but had 
 wholly lost sight of her before the first night, 
 and did not see her again till past noon of the 
 day after it had cleared. We were then run- 
 ning on our course with nearly all sail set, 
 when the "Luminary" was raised, off our 
 beam to southward ; the course she was steer- 
 ing evidently converging with our own, and 
 bringing us nearer together. The captain 
 brought out his glass, and having looked at 
 
 her for a moment, said they wer: in trouble. 
 The ship's colors were set, but were only half- 
 mast, and they said as plainly as could be, that 
 something was wrong. We kept off; and the 
 other ship's course being also changed, we 
 drew neai-er together. 
 
 Upon coming within hail, we learned that 
 five men had been washed overboard from the 
 Luminary's decks, by a sea that had swept 
 them. The same resistless wave had swept the 
 whole five away, and in the darkness of night 
 they had been swallowed up. It was a fear- 
 ful fate, and our spirits sank at the intelligence. 
 The ship itself had sustained no serious in- 
 jury; and, after a short visit from our captain 
 to his brother skipper, we went on together as 
 before. 
 
 At night, when we sat together in our dimly- 
 lighted apartment and spoke of what had hap- 
 pened, the carpenter thought it was a great 
 wonder we had not all gone down in that 
 dreadful storm. 
 
 " If I had known they ever had such times 
 at sea," said he, " I would never have come." 
 
 "Never mind, Chips," said Bungs ; "we'll 
 get you home all right yet ; only keep a stiff 
 upper lip, and lay low when it blows." 
 
 " I'll tell you what it is," said Smut; " as a 
 general thing, folks live too long. Now, if 
 Chips could only be taken off in this way, it 
 would be better for him, probably, and the rest 
 of us would get along just as well." 
 
 Chips looked at Smut gloomily, and made no 
 reply. But Bungs remarked, reflectively, 
 
 "After all, it can't make a great deal of dif- 
 ference how, or when, provided we do our duty 
 here." 
 
 " That's it," says Smut ; " if ive do our duty 
 here." And he looked hard at Chips. 
 
 " I've done the best I could," Chips replied. 
 
 "Ay, Chips, I reckon you have; but you 
 made an awful mistake when you undertook 
 to do carpenter's duty in the Old North. 
 However, we're all liable to mistakes; and as 
 long as they are mistakes, I reckon they won't 
 be set down against us. I can't say I wish 
 you any harm, Chips. Just keep a stiff upper 
 lip, as Bungs says, and do the best you can, and 
 you'll come out all right at last." 
 
GOLD MINING. 
 
 169 
 
 HYDRAULIC MINING. Page 172. 
 
 GOLD MINING, 
 
 BY CHARLES A. HOYT. 
 
 UNLIKE silver, gold is usually found in a 
 native state, though it sometimes occurs 
 combined with some of the rarer metals, and 
 as an amalgam with mercury. But, commer- 
 cially considered, these ores and alloys are so 
 rare as to be of no practical importance, and 
 are not depended upon as a source of the 
 precious metal. It is found in veins which 
 are very similar in general character and 
 structure to those containing silver ores; but 
 the gold is either disseminated through a 
 gangue of quartz, or is associated with iron and 
 copper pyrites. Many of you have seen py- 
 rites. It is, you remember, a yellow, brassy- 
 1 king mineral, composed of iron and sul- 
 phur (iron pyrites), or iron, copper, and 
 sulphur (copper pyrites). The two minerals 
 can be easily distinguished, as the former is 
 much whiter than the latter, which is quite 
 yellow, and has often been mistaken for gold; 
 hence it is sometimes called " fools' " gold." 
 Pyrites is of common occurrence all over the 
 country, but does not by any means always 
 contain gold, though in the Rocky Mountains, 
 and west to the Pacific coast, it invariably 
 carries more or less of it. That which you 
 have seen, however, appeared exactly like that 
 
 which has gold in it, for this metal is very 
 rarely visible. When the gold is in quartz 
 more or less free from pyrites, it occurs in 
 thin plates, threads, and grains, often making 
 very pretty specimens, some of which are used 
 for pins and watch-charms. But in a great 
 deal of" this gold-bearing rock you would not 
 be able to detect an atom of the metal, al- 
 though it might pay handsomely for working. 
 
 Galena and zinc-blende are occasionally 
 present in gold lodes, though less frequently 
 than pyrites. 
 
 These ores, like all others, vary greatly in 
 richness in different veins and localities. Some 
 are 'profitably worked in California which 
 yield only five dollars to the ton. To make 
 so low a grade of ore pay, it must occur in 
 large quantities and be easily mined ; but ores 
 which yield in the stamp mills ten dollars per 
 ton are very frequently quite remunerative. 
 Those which carry upwards of forty or fifty 
 dollars per ton are considered rich, though 
 ores are often found very much richer. When 
 you remember that a Troy ounce of gold is 
 worth twenty dollars and sixty-seven cents, 
 coin value, and that there are twenty-nine 
 thousand one hundred and sixty-six of these 
 ounces in a ton of two thousand Avoirdupois 
 pounds, you will realize what a minute quan- 
 tity of the mass treated is really saved. For 
 instance, in a ten-dollar ore, only seventeen 
 
170 
 
 GOLD MINING. 
 
 one thousandths of one per cent., or one fifty- 
 eight thousand three hundred and thirty- 
 second part of the ore, is obtained as a final 
 result. It seems hardly possible that any ores 
 can be profitably worked to secure so small a 
 portion of them. 
 
 Most of the gold-bearing quartz is crushed 
 in " stamp-mills," where it is pulverized un- 
 der large iron stamps, weighing from four 
 hundred and fifty to seven hundred pounds 
 each. After it becomes quite fine it is carried 
 away from the stamps by a stream of water 
 over long, thin plates of copper, which have 
 been coated with a layer of mercury or quick- 
 silver. The mercury has such an affinity for 
 gold, that it catches and retains all that comes 
 in contact with it, forming an amalgam. This 
 amalgam is scraped from the copper plates, 
 and heated in a sort of iron crucible having 
 a cover. The heat drives off the mercury, 
 which is carried by a pipe connected with 
 the cover of the crucible, or retort, as it is 
 called, under water, where it is condensed, 
 and is ready to be used again. The gold re- 
 mains in the retort in a metallic state. Some 
 of the richer ores, especially when much cop- j 
 per pyrites is present, are smelted, and the , 
 copper, as well as the gold, saved. 
 
 The mining of gold in veins is conducted 
 in the same manner as for silver; and hav- 
 ing already told you, in a former article, 
 how that is done, it is unnecessary to repeat 
 the process here. 
 
 Although large amounts of gold art now 
 obtained from veins, or lodes, far more has 
 been taken from " alluvial deposits." The 
 lodes, having been exposed for ages to the 
 action of the atmosphere, the gnawing of the 
 frost, and the wear and tear of streams, have 
 been slowly worn away, and the quartz and 
 ores broken into fragments, ground up into 
 gravel and sand, and carried by mountain 
 torrents far away from their source, to be de- 
 posited in gulches, valleys, and on plains 
 and hill-sides, over which the water once 
 ran, or stood in lakes. Gold, being one of 
 the heaviest metals known, nearly double 
 the weight of lead, with which we are accus- 
 tomed to compare all heavy substances, sank 
 more rapidly than the rock and mineral which 
 accompanied it, and found its way to the bot- 
 tom of the lake and river basins over which it 
 was conveyed. In this manner vast amounts 
 of gold have been scattered throughout the 
 valleys and plains near the mountainous re- 
 gions in which the veins abound ; and it is 
 from this source that most of it is taken. It 
 always exists there as native gold, and has to 
 
 VOL. xiv. NO. 242. 39 
 
 go through no complicated process to be ob- 
 tained in a metallic state. 
 
 From this fact, and from its early mention 
 in the Bible and all ancient writings, we may 
 safely conclude it was one of the very first 
 metals known. It has been generally believed 
 for a long time that the ancient Ophir, from 
 which King Solomon brought so much gold 
 for his famous Temple, was .located some- 
 where on the south-eastern coast of Africa ; and 
 recently some who profess to be wise in such 
 matters claim that the new diamond fields of 
 that country are the site of that long-sought 
 land, as gold is found in the vicinity, as well 
 as evidence of former workings. 
 
 Placer Mining. 
 
 The gold in the alluvial deposits is usually 
 found next the "bed-rock," that is, below the 
 soil, lying in a thin stratum of sand or gravel 
 upon the rock which underlies, and occurs 
 there in the form of grains, varying in size 
 from fine sand to that of a small pea, in thin 
 plates or leaves, and in irregular nuggets. 
 Some very large nuggets have been found. 
 One was discovered in Australia weighing 
 one hundred and eighty-four pounds, which 
 yielded over forty thousand dollars. Califor- 
 nia has produced some big ones. But the 
 largest ever found came from Australia, and 
 was known as the " Sarah Sands." It weighed 
 two hundred and thirty-three Troy pounds. 
 Of course these great nuggets are very rare, 
 as one weighing an ounce or two is considered 
 of good size. This native gold is never quite 
 pure, being always alloyed with a little silver; 
 and occasionally a very small quantity of cop- 
 per and iron is present. 
 
 In places the soil boulders, sand, and 
 gravel, termed alluvium, or alluvial deposit 
 is over two hundred feet deep, while in other 
 
GOLD MINING. 
 
 localities it is but n few feet thick. The object 
 of mining in these deposits is to separate the 
 gold from the dirt and gravel, and collect it 
 by itself. This is called " placer mining," 
 which is also subdivided into deep and shal- 
 low, and into bar, gulch, hill, and river min- 
 ing, according to the situation in which the 
 gold is found; whether on bars or flats formed 
 by streams, in narrow ravines or gulches, on 
 hill-sides, or in the channels of living rivers. 
 Various methods of securing the gold are 
 used ; but they are all based on the great spe- 
 cific gravity of the metal, which causes it to 
 sink rapidly in water, while the lighter rock 
 and soil are carried away by the current. The 
 simplest and oldest of the contrivances for 
 separating the gold and the worthless dirt is 
 the " pan." This is merely a sheet-iron vessel, 
 about the size of the large milk-pans you have 
 seen, but with its sides sloping much more. 
 
 The Cradle. 
 
 This is filled with the dirt, or pulverized 
 quartz, which it is desired to test, and then 
 dipped under water, while the mass is stirred 
 and softened by the hand. The pan is then 
 taken from the water, and a gentle shaking 
 and rotary motion is given it, as the water is 
 carefully poured off. The motion causes the 
 larger pebbles to come to the surface of the 
 dirt, from which they are then removed. By 
 repeatedly filling the pan with water, and giv- 
 ing it the proper motion as it is poured out 
 again, all the dirt and gravel are washed away, 
 finally leaving the gold in a long, thin layer 
 
 along the angle formed by the sides and bot- 
 tom of the pan. This is called " panning; " 
 and an expert panner can detect the gold when 
 there is only a few cents' worth present. 
 
 In the early mining days of California, the 
 "cradle" and "long-torn" were generally 
 used. The former of these is shown in the 
 illustration, and can be briefly described as 
 two boxes, one placed above the other, the 
 lower one supported by rockers, like those on 
 a child's cradle. The bottom of the upper 
 box is of sheet-iron, full of small holes. Into 
 this box the dirt is put, and water poured over 
 it, while the whole is rocked to and fro. The 
 finer dirt and the gold are washed through to 
 the lower box, from one end of which the wa- 
 ter flows off. Across the bottom of this box 
 narrow strips of board, termed " riffle-bars," 
 are fastened, and the gold, settling to the bot- 
 tom, is caught behind them, and is removed 
 from time to time. Fresh dirt is constantly 
 added to the upper box, and whatever does 
 not go through the holes in the bottom is 
 thrown out by hand. 
 
 The long-torn consists of a rough wooden 
 trough about twelve feet long, placed with one 
 end considerablj' higher than the other. Across 
 the lower end is a piece of sheet-iron, with 
 good-sized holes in it, to keep the larger peb- 
 bles and rocks from passing through. A stream 
 of water is introduced at the upper end, and 
 dirt is shovelled in and kept constantly stirred 
 about, so that it may be thoroughly disinte- 
 grated. The water carries all but the coarse 
 gravel through the sheet-iron screen into a 
 long trough below, in which riffle-bars are 
 placed to retain the gold. Sometimes quick- 
 silver is introduced in the riffle-box, to aid in 
 catching the precious metal. Both the cradle 
 and long-torn are imperfect and slow, so that 
 they are now but seldom used, being replaced 
 by sluices and hydraulic mining. 
 
 Nearly all the gold now obtained by placer 
 mining is saved in sluices. These are of va- 
 rious sizes; the smallest are long, narrow 
 wooden boxes, without end-pieces or covers, 
 through which water is kept constantly flow- 
 ing, and into which the dirt containing the 
 gold Is thrown. Each box is provided with 
 riffle-bars, which retards the water somewhat, 
 and allows the gold to sink behind them. 
 These boxes are about twelve feet long, and 
 from twelve to eighteen inches wide. One 
 end is a little wider than the other, so that 
 another box can be fitted to it, and thus a 
 long line of them made, often hundreds of 
 feet in length. A large amount of dirt can 
 be washed through them each day, so (hat 
 
172 
 
 GOLD MINING. 
 
 very poor ground can be profitably worked by 
 using them. A number of men can add the 
 dirt, while one or two are employed in throw- 
 ingoutthe largerboulders which may find their 
 way in. Instead of having wooden riffle-bars, 
 the bottom of the boxes are sometimes com- 
 pactly paved with small pebbles, and the gold 
 is caught in the interstices. Mercury is almost 
 always used to save the finer gold, which 
 would otherwise be carried away by the wa- 
 ter. Frequently the sluices are not cleaned 
 up for a week, while others are cleaned every 
 day, depending on the richness of the ground 
 worked, and the honesty of the neighbors. 
 
 You would not care to hear in detail the 
 various ways in which the sluice-boxes are 
 used; so we will pass at once to hydraulic 
 mining, which is of more importance. 
 
 It is often necessary to remove immense 
 quantities of soil and gravel before the pay- 
 streak is reached, which it would be impossi- 
 ble to do by hand. Hydraulic mining accom- 
 plishes this quickly and cheaply. By means 
 of long ditches and flumes, water is conveyed 
 into large tanks, which stand high above the 
 place where it is to be used. From these 
 tanks the water is carried through large can- 
 vas hose to the desired locality, and directed 
 against the bank or hill to be washed away. 
 By having the tanks so. high, a great pressure 
 is obtained, and the water is thrown through 
 the nozzle at the end of the hose with im- 
 mense force. It is like the stream from a 
 steam fire-engine, only very much more pow- 
 erful. Several streams are used at once, and 
 you can hardly imagine the amount of work 
 they accomplish. High banks and large hills 
 seem to melt before them, so rapidly are they 
 borne away. 
 
 All the soil and debris are carried into large 
 sluices by the water. These sluices are often 
 six or seven feet in width, and are very long. 
 They are paved with sections of large trees, 
 or with stones, and the gold settles in the 
 spaces between them. They have to be very 
 strong and durable, as boulders weighing 
 several hundred pounds are often carried with 
 the stream. You would not suppose that 
 much of the gold would be caught in such 
 rude and imperfect contrivances as these 
 sluices appear to be; but they answer the pur- 
 pose very well; and, as I have before said, 
 nearly all the gold is saved in them which is 
 obtained from placer mines. There was a 
 gravel bed in California made to pay quite 
 well by hydraulic mining, which yielded at 
 the rate of only three cents per ton of gravel. 
 Over four thousand tons were washed down 
 
 each day. This is the poorest dirt ever made 
 to pay, I believe. 
 
 Large sums of money have been expended 
 in getting water for hydraulic mining. The 
 ground to be worked is often so high above 
 the neighboring streams that the water from 
 them cannot be made available; so it has to 
 be brought long distances in ditches and 
 flumes. A flume is merely a wooden trough, 
 usually supported on trestle-work, and is used 
 to carry the water over deep valleys and ra- 
 vines. One of the illustrations to this article 
 shows a flume belonging to one of the main 
 ditch companies of California. The aggre- 
 gate length of the ditch, with its side-branch- 
 es, is over two hundred miles, and its cost was 
 about one million dollars. There is another 
 company in that state which has a ditch that 
 has cost six hundred thousand dollars. These 
 companies sell the water to the miners, and 
 make a great deal of money by the operation. 
 
 Sluice Box. 
 
 In some places, where a number of parties 
 are mining, and where the sluices used by 
 them fail to save the greater portion of the 
 gold, a long line of large sluice-boxes- is erect- 
 ed lower in the valley, and all the water from 
 above is carried through them, and thus a 
 good part of the remaining gold is caught. 
 These are called " tail-sluices." 
 
 Sometimes small rivers are turned from 
 their regular channels, and their old beds 
 worked over by the indefatigable miners. This 
 is called river-mining, and is very uncertain, 
 though it often pays extremely well. 
 
 Gold has also been found in paying quanti- 
 ties in some of the sands of the Pacific coast. 
 It originally existed in the sandstone rocks of 
 that locality, and these, having been worn 
 away by the waves, have left the gold on the 
 beach. This is collected at low tide and car- 
 ried away to some neighboring stream, and 
 washed in a cradle or long-torn. 
 
GOLD MINING. 
 
 '73 
 
 But enough has been written to give you 
 an idea of gold-mining in its various branch- 
 es, so that I will not tire you by entering into 
 further details. It is, on the whole, a hard 
 and laborious business. Years are sometimes 
 spent by the miner in getting at some partic- 
 ular point in a favorite locality, where he ex- 
 pects to obtain a golden harvest; but often he 
 finds that all his labor has been in vain, and 
 the gold has existed only in his imagination. 
 
 A Flume. 
 
 Rivers are successfully turned from their 
 course, after much trouble and expense, and 
 the happy workmen think that on the morrow 
 they can begin to realize the fortune they feel 
 is in store for them. That night, perhaps, a 
 storm rages far up among the snow-covered 
 mountains, and the tiny stream is in a few 
 hours swollen to a mad, resistless torrent, 
 which tears away the petty dam, and in a 
 moment effaces the work of months, leaving 
 the miner nothing but his golden visions and 
 a lost summer to reflect upon. 
 
 A report comes in that in a remote corner 
 of some distant wilderness gold is being 
 found in fabulous quantities. The miner, 
 always seeking something richer than he pos- 
 sesses, hurriedly packs his few traps and tools, 
 and hastens away to the new land. After a 
 painful and dangerous journey, filled with 
 hardships and privations, he reaches the 
 promised land only to find once more that 
 the old maxim, " Green fields are ever in the 
 
 distance," has been verified. He has but zo 
 make his way back, a sadder and a poorer 
 man. 
 
 Such are some of the dark sides of a miner's 
 life; but it also has its brighter features. 
 Dams are not always carried away, nor tun- 
 nels driven in vain, nor journeys always fruit- 
 less. Large fortunes are sometimes quickly 
 made, and the poor, ragged miner is trans- 
 formed into the revered and respected capi- 
 talist. A few square yards of earth have 
 made many a miner's fortune. But those who 
 embark in mining with the idea that they will 
 acquire wealth without hard work, and with- 
 out years of patient perseverance, will gener- 
 ally find themselves sadly mistaken. Perse- 
 verance and industry are more necessary in 
 mining than in almost any business known. 
 And you will find, my kind readers, what- 
 ever pursuit you follow, that these are the 
 requisites for success, and without them you 
 may as well look for gold in Plymouth granite 
 as to hope for fame or fortune. 
 
'74 
 
 SILVER MINING. 
 
 MINERS AT WORK. 
 
 SILVER MINIM, 
 
 BY CHARLES A. HOYT. 
 
 LONG ago, when gold and silver, in the 
 shape of coin, were more common than 
 now, I used often to wonder where and in 
 what condition these metals were found. I 
 was told they were "dug "from the earth; 
 but this reply was never very satisfactory, nor 
 did it throw much more light on the subject 
 than I had before. Perhaps it is the same with 
 some of you, so that it may be interesting to 
 know how they occur, and the way they are 
 mined. I will try to tell you. As I am writing 
 from a region where silver is found, we will 
 give our attention to that metal first, and per- 
 haps at another time I will give you some 
 facts about gold mining. 
 
 Silver is seldom found in large quantities 
 in its native state; that is, it is usually com- 
 bined with other metals and earths ; although 
 it is said that a mass of silver was discov- 
 ered, many years ago, in one of the mines 
 of Germany, from off which the king and all 
 his court ate their dinner. This is a rare 
 exception, however, for almost always it oc- 
 curs as an ore. The richest silver ores are 
 sulphurets of silver, that is, silver chemically 
 combined with sulphur; and chloride of sil- 
 ver, or silver united with chlorine. There 
 are many varieties of the former ore, where 
 other metals accompany the silver. Lead, 
 
 copper, arsenic, and antimony are most fre- 
 quently associated with it in this way. Prob- 
 ably most of you have seen galena, the prin- 
 cipal ore of lead, which is simply that metal 
 combined with sulphur. There is scarcely 
 any of it which does not contain more or less 
 of silver; and, indeed, a very large portion 
 of the silver produced is derived from lead 
 ores. 
 
 The ores vary greatly in richness, some 
 containing only a few dollars' and others sev- 
 eral thousand dollars' worth to the ton. A 
 pure chloride of silver contains over twenty- 
 eight thousand dollars, and some forms of 
 sulphuret ores over thirty thousand dollars 
 in silver to the ton of ore ; though they are not 
 found to any extent in a pure state, but are 
 mined with other ores, rocks, and earthy mat- 
 ter. In the old world, where labor is very- 
 cheap, ores carrying from twenty to thirty 
 dollars a ton can be worked at a profit. But 
 here (Colorado) silver ores containing much 
 less than eighty dollars a ton cannot at pres- 
 ent be worked, owing to the high price of la- 
 bor and supplies. Of course, where there is 
 much lead present it can be saved too, so 
 that such an ore need not contain as much 
 silver to be mined profitably. But I may be 
 tiring you by saying so much about the ores; 
 so we will now see how and where they are 
 found. 
 
 They always occur in veins. By a " vein " I 
 
SILVER MINING. 
 
 175 
 
 mean a fissure, or immense crack, in the 
 earth's crust, of great depth and length, but 
 varying in width from a few inches to many 
 feet, which has been filled with the ore and 
 rock. The rock filling these fissures or cracks 
 is usually different from that surrounding it, 
 and is called " gangue-rock." The sides of the 
 vein are termed "wall-rocks." Sometimes 
 these veins are perpendicular, and others slant, 
 or " dip," as it is called, so much that one 
 can walk down them when opened by mining. 
 You may ask where the silver came from to 
 get into these fissures. That question has 
 puzzled a great many wiser heads than yours 
 and mine, and has not yet been definitely an- 
 swered ; so we will not try to solve it here. 
 Let us be satisfied to find it in the veins, with- 
 out troubling ourselves just now as to : ts 
 origin. 
 
 Some veins are soft and easily worked, and 
 others are as hard as granite. There are very 
 few indeed which can be worked without blast- 
 ing. The ore is sometimes scattered through 
 the gangue-rock, and at times it occurs as a 
 little vein by itself, enclosed by the gangue, 
 and varying greatly in thickness, being at 
 one place, for example, six inches thick, and 
 at another point, only a few feet distant, but 
 an inch, then, a few yards deeper, a foot thick, 
 and so on. If you should take a very uneven 
 sheet of lead, at some points very thick and 
 at others quite thin, and place it on its edge 
 in a large, thin, but deep box, such as large 
 panes of glass usually come in, and should 
 then fill up on each side of the lead with sand, 
 you would have quite a fair representation of 
 an ore vein, or " lode," in which the lead would 
 be the ore, the sand the gangue, and the sides 
 of the box the wall-rocks. 
 
 But the wall-rocks are never as regular and 
 smooth as the sides of the box, but often come 
 close together, almost cutting the vein off; then 
 again they bulge out like a sail in a gale of 
 wind, making the vein very wide between 
 them. Thus, you see, an ore vein is very ir- 
 i-egular, here rich and there poor, narrow in 
 one place and wide in another. When a lode 
 becomes pinched and without ore, it is said 
 to be in " cap." These " caps," or pinches, 
 are often extensive, and are great obstacles in 
 working a mine. 
 
 Some veins can be traced along the surface 
 for miles, and others can be followed for but 
 a few hundred feet. In Europe there are silver 
 Amines which have been worked to a depth of 
 three thousand feet, and as yet no bottom or 
 end found. As to the width, they vary greatly, 
 as I have before said. In this vicinity their 
 
 ! average width is from three to six feet. In 
 | Mexico there is a famous silver mine which is 
 in some places seventy feet wide; and the 
 Comstock lode of Nevada is often over one 
 hundred feet in width, and at other points only 
 a few feet. 
 
 The ore in some veins is rich, and in others 
 poor, and it also varies greatly at different lo- 
 calities on the same vein. Lodes are generally 
 found in mountainous regions, where earth- 
 quakes and volcanoes formerly prevailed, and 
 in the same districts they usually have the same 
 course or direction. 
 
 Having learned how the veins most fre- 
 quently occur, we will now see how they are 
 worked. I will describe mining as it is con- 
 ducted here; for, although each locality has 
 its peculiarities, the general principles of min- 
 ing are the same everywhere. 
 
 The first thing to be done is to sink a shaft, 
 which is a sort of well dug on the vein. It is 
 from eight to twelve feet long, and about four 
 feet wide, with the corners square, and is sunk 
 as nearly perpendicular as it can be and yet 
 follow the ore vein. Until the solid rock is 
 reached the shaft is sunk with a shovel and 
 pickaxe, after which it becomes necessary to 
 blast. Pieces of round steel, about an inch in 
 diameter and from one to four feet long, sharp- 
 ened at one end like a cold-chisel, are called 
 drills. These, with a hammer weighing from 
 six to eight pounds, are the principal tools 
 used in blasting. Our shaft is down to the 
 solid rock, we will suppose. One man now 
 takes a short drill and places its sharpened 
 edge on a suitable part of the rock; another 
 seizes the hammer with both hands and strikes 
 the head of the drill, lightly at first, until the 
 hole is fairly started, and then with his full 
 
SILVER MINING. 
 
 strength. The one holding the drill turns it 
 partially around between the strokes, and thus 
 it cuts its way into the rock, making a hole a 
 little larger than its own diameter. When it 
 is a few inches deep, water is poured in to 
 make it bore easily. From time to time the 
 fine rock is scraped out with an iron scraper, 
 and the drill is changed as soon as dulled. 
 The hole is usually sunk from two to three 
 feet, when it is ready to load. It is now care- 
 fully cleaned and dried. A piece of fuse, a 
 little longer than the hole is deep, is inserted 
 and held on the upper side of the hole. A few 
 inches of powder are added next, then fine 
 dirt is pushed down with a stick until the 
 powder is covered several inches deep, when 
 more dirt is put in and forced down by an iron 
 bar, under light blows from a hammer, until 
 the hole is filled. This latter part is called 
 " tamping." The fuse is lighted, and the men 
 retire until the powder is exploded. Some- 
 times it fails to go off, in which case the tamp- 
 ing has to be drilled out and a new charge 
 
 Head of Drift. 
 
 inserted. This is very dangerous, as often, 
 while it is being re-drilled, the powder takes 
 fire. Many a life has been lost in this way. 
 Occasionally, too, the powder " blows tamp- 
 ing; " that is, blows out the dirt from the hole 
 without breaking the rock, in which case a 
 new charge is put in and more carefully tamped. 
 But our shot was successful, and broke a good 
 quantity of rock, which the men are clearing 
 away, so that they can start another hole. 
 
 Thus they will keep on until the shaft is 
 about ten feet deep, when a windlass will be 
 necessary to raise the rock with. The wind- 
 lass has a crank at both ends, and has an inch 
 rope around it, to which is attached a bucket 
 made of a half barrel. With this the shaft 
 can be sunk about one hundred feet, when an 
 engine or a horse will be needed for hoisting 
 the rock and water, as nearly all mines are 
 wet, from the water leaking through the crev- 
 ice from the surface, and sometimes springing 
 up from below. 
 
 This drilling you will think is slow work. 
 So it is, as it often takes two or three hours to 
 drill a single hole. At first you would hardly 
 care to hold the drill while another was strik- 
 ing; but the miners are very expert, and sel- 
 dom miss their stroke. Sometimes two strike ; 
 and in some countries the miner holds the 
 drill with one hand and strikes with the other, 
 which is called " single-hand drilling." In the 
 latter case the steel and hammer are both 
 smaller than those I have mentioned. 
 
 When the shaft is about sixty feet deep, 
 " drifts " are started. These are galleries high 
 enough for a man to walk in, and about four 
 feet wide (depending on the width of the vein), 
 following horizontally along the lode each 
 way from the shaft. As they increase in 
 length, the broken rock is wheeled back to the 
 shaft and raised to the surface. When the 
 drifts are in far enough from the shaft, work 
 is resumed there, and it is sunk another sixty 
 or a hundred feet, where two more drifts are 
 started, the same as the ones just described. 
 
 You may ask what is the use of the shaft 
 and drifts, as they cannot produce any great 
 amount of ore. Well, they cannot. Some, 
 of course, has been taken out, but the work 
 thus far has probably cost more than the ore 
 is worth. We have only been getting ready 
 to work. Now we can begin to " stope " (pro- 
 nounce the o long). I don't know whether I 
 can make you understand what "stoping" is, 
 but I will try. 
 
 In sinking the shafts and running the drifts, 
 we have, you remember, followed the ore vein, 
 ^o that as you stand in the former the ore is 
 in the bottom and each end of it, and in the 
 drifts is over our heads and under our feet. 
 Now you can see that it will be a great deal 
 easier to break down the vein above the drift, 
 than it was to open the drift itself. That is 
 called " overhand " or " back stoping." If we 
 should drill a hole in the floor of the drift 
 near the shaft, you see the powder would have 
 a good chance to throw the rock out into the 
 shaft; this is called " underhand stoping." 
 We will only attend to " back stoping." 
 
 The drifts are now quite long, and we can 
 begin to take out ore in paying quantities. 
 We will put the men at work where the drift 
 starts from the shaft. They will blast down 
 the rock over the drift for a space six or seven 
 feet high, and about as wide as the drift itself. 
 All of the broken rock will fall into the "level" 
 (same as drift), be wheeled out to the shaft, 
 and from there raised to the surface. Thus 
 the two miners will be cutting a new drift, you 
 might say, over the old one, or making the old 
 
SILVER MINING. 
 
 level twice as high as it was at first. Mean- 
 while the drift is being carried along, too, 
 the end of it, or " heading," being so far 
 in advance of the stope that it is not inter- 
 fered with by those who are working the 
 latter. 
 
 Let us suppose that the men on the stope 
 have now gone about thirty feet from the shaft, 
 so that it is time to set two more at work 
 above them. But we must first prepare for 
 it. Small holes, or " hitches," are cut in the 
 walls each side of the drift, high enough for 
 a man to easily walk under them. These 
 hitches are as nearly opposite one another as 
 possible, but those on one wall are higher than 
 those on the other, and on each wall they are 
 about four feet apart. Stout logs, about a 
 foot in diameter, are now tightly fitted into 
 these hitches, from wall to wall, across the 
 drift, and smaller logs, about twelve feet 
 long, are laid lengthwise of the drift, upon 
 these cross-pieces; thus making a roof for 
 the gallery. and a floor for the stope. The 
 cross-pieces are called " stulls," and the ones 
 lying upon them are known as "lagging." 
 Now we are ready to work two more men on 
 the stope. They will also commence at the 
 shaft, and' blast down the roof of the stope 
 for about six feet in height, following those 
 who have just preceded them; but instead of 
 the broken rock falling into the drift it will 
 fall upon the stulls and lagging recently put 
 up. Here it will be looked over, and the ore 
 thrown into the drift and then taken to the 
 surface, while the worthless rock will be left 
 on the lagging. Timbers will be put in so 
 that no rock can fall from the stulls into the 
 shaft. Holes are left in the lagging where the 
 ore can be thrown down to the drift. 
 
 Now that part of the vein lying between 
 the first gallery and the surface can be stoped 
 out, the rock being left on the stulls, which, 
 when properly put in, will support an enor- 
 mous weight, while the ore is raised to the 
 surface. Meanwhile the shaft has been sunk 
 on, new drifts run, and stoping carried on 
 throughout the mine as fast as possible. 
 The shaft and drifts are to explore the 
 vein and to open stoping grounds, as by 
 stoping much more rock can be broken, and 
 more ore taken out, at the same expense, than 
 from the shaft or galleries. 
 
 I forgot to state that at about every ten or 
 twelve feet in depth sometimes oftener, de- 
 pending on the nature of the wall-rocks 
 stulls are put across each end of the shaft, 
 and timbers resting on these are laid along 
 each side of the shaft. By means of plank 
 
 T2 
 
 I 77 
 
 and timbers stretching from one set of these 
 timbers to the next set below, the shaft is di- 
 vided into compartments. Thus we have a 
 ladder-way to go up and down upon, a com- 
 partment for the pump, if one is needed to 
 drain the mine, and a bucket-way through 
 which the ore and rock are hoisted. 
 
 I have tried to show you, in the preceding 
 pages, how a mine is opened; and, to complete 
 the lesson, will take you, as well as I can on 
 paper, into one which we will suppose has 
 been worked for years, and is well devel- 
 oped. 
 
 Gallery. 
 
 Here we are in the shaft-house at the mouth 
 of the shaft. The ore is lying in large piles 
 around us, and the men and boys are busily 
 engaged in hammer-dressing it (breaking off 
 the rock from the ore), and sorting it into 
 different classes, according to its richness. 
 Others are weighing it, and loading the wag- 
 ons which carry it to the mills, where the sil- 
 ver is extracted. Thi-ough the open door 
 yonder you can see the glow of the forges 
 where the drills are being sharpened, and 
 worn-out buckets and tools repaired. Step 
 into this room and see the engine working 
 silently and steadily, and yet so powerfully. 
 It moves the pump and hoists all the rock and 
 ore from the mine, so easily that you would 
 never imagine it was doing anything. Hark! 
 a little bell has just struck, and see, there 
 goes the bucket down by the run ; another 
 stroke, and the rope ceases to run out, so you 
 know the bucket has stopped somewhere far 
 below us. The little bell has struck twice 
 this time, the rope is coming up now. and here 
 is the bucket filled with glistening ore. No, 
 that is not silver that you see ; it is merely ga- 
 lena, which is almost as bright as silver when 
 freshly broken. You can see no silver in it, 
 and yet that piece you have in your hand con- 
 tains it at the rate of perhaps a thousand dol- 
 lars a ton. 
 
i 7 8 
 
 SILVER MINING. 
 
 Here come some miners dressed in their 
 canvas suits. They are going below ; so they 
 light their candles, fasten them in their hats, 
 and three of them step into the bucket togeth- 
 er, give the signal, and down they go. It is 
 time we were going down, too; so put on this 
 pair of overalls, this old jacket and hat, and 
 you are ready. Come over to the ladder-way, 
 light your candle, and then follow me. The 
 ladders are nearly perpendicular, but they are 
 perfectly safe. Hold your candle between 
 your thumb and forefinger, and come on. 
 
 The Stope. 
 
 We have come down about thirty feet only, 
 and will now step off to the left to look at 
 this stope. We are standing on a mass of 
 broken rock, which rests on the stulls above 
 the first drifts, some thirty feet still below us. 
 You can hear the faint stroke a hammer far 
 ahead, where men are at work. Come on. 
 Lookout for this "mill hole," where the ore 
 is thrown down to the drift. Hold your can- 
 dle up and see the vein of ore over our heads. 
 Where you stand it is narrow; but see here; 
 where I am it is nearly a foot wide. It looks 
 dull and dirty, from the powder smoke. You 
 can see the glimmer of candles in advance, 
 and here the men are drilling. Well, let us 
 hurry down ; but we can keep on our way until 
 we come to another shaft, which was sunk to 
 cause a circulation of air in the mine, and 
 hence called the " air-shaft." It is smaller 
 than the other, but has a good set of ladders 
 in it, so that in case of accident the miners 
 can have two ways of escape. Here we are, 
 
 down to the first " level " (same as drift), which 
 is several hundred feet in length. Come to 
 the end of it and see the ore. Here are two 
 more miners; but they have just "shot," 
 you can smell the powder-smoke, and are 
 loading the car, which runs on this wooden 
 track beneath our feet. There they go with 
 it out to the shaft. Yes, the vein is looking 
 well here. 
 
 Now we will cross over the shaft into the 
 drift on tne other side. Here we find a car 
 and track, too; in fact, we shall find them in 
 every drift of any length, as they are very 
 much better than wheelbarrows. See these 
 stulls over your head; they are supporting 
 forty feet of loose rock. If one should give 
 way, it would be bad for us. The vein does 
 not look so well in this heading; in fact, there 
 is no ore at all. It has been pinched here for 
 some time ; but it will open out again in a few 
 feet, probably. We will go down this "winze " 
 to the next level. What is a winze? you ask. 
 Merely a small shaft connecting one level 
 with another. 
 
 Here is the ladder, and here we go down, 
 much of the way through ground which has 
 been stoped. The rock resting on the stulls 
 below is carefully secured by timbers, so that 
 it cannot fall into the winze. This level is 
 very mu6h like the one we have just left, only 
 not quite as long. 
 
 Hark! there was a cry of "fire!" Don't 
 be alarmed. It only means they are about to 
 fire a shot. Step this way. Now shield your 
 candle well with your hand, and stand still. 
 There it went; and your candle is out. What 
 a dull, heavy report! and how it shook the 
 air! 
 
 We have now been through half a dozen 
 drifts, climbed down as many winzes, crawled 
 on our hands and knees through abandoned 
 stopes; have clambered up and down ropes in 
 lieu of ladders ; have seen the ore-vein wide 
 and narrow, rich and poor, and in many places 
 have seen no ore at all, where by good rights 
 ore should have been. Your clothes are wet, 
 muddy, and covered with candle-droppings. 
 Your face and hands are not much cleaner. 
 In fact, you are a sorry-looking object, a-nd are 
 pretty well tired, too. But we have only to 
 go to the bottom of the shaft, now, to retire 
 with honor. 
 
 The shaft is about a hundred feet deeper 
 than the drift in which we stand. Listen, and 
 you can hear the faint click of the hammer 
 down there, and by leaning over here you can 
 see the candles, looking like so many glow- 
 worms. 
 
SILVER MINING. 
 
 I 79 
 
 Working a Mine. 
 
 This is as far as the ladders go, and for the 
 next twenty feet we must climb down this rope. 
 Before going down, however, let us take a good 
 look at the miners. They are dressed in oil- 
 cloth suits, and well they may be, for the water 
 is pouring down the sides of the shaft at the 
 rate of three or four barrels an hour, and 
 reaches them in the form of fine spray, with 
 here and there a tiny stream, which runs off 
 some projecting point of rock. The water is 
 raised by the bucket to this tank, where we 
 are standing, and from where the pump takes 
 it. The miners seem contented enough, 
 though, and the one sitting down turning the 
 drill is singing as merrily as though this wet, 
 muddy shaft was the pleasantest place in the 
 world. This is their life ; they are used to it, 
 and know nothing else; for ever since they 
 were old enough to do anything, they have 
 worked around a mine, first at sorting ore, and 
 
 gradually working their way from that to 
 drillsmen. Let us speak to them. 
 
 " Well, Harry, how is the rock to-day?" 
 
 "It's bloody 'ard, sir. We uns can't make 
 'alf a foot a shift, sir," is the reply we get. 
 
 Cornish, unmistakably. Well, down we go. 
 Hold fast to your candle, and the rope, too. 
 You will find the latter wet and slippery; but 
 you are down safely. Here is the ore-vein 
 running lengthwise of the shaft, you see, and 
 looking well, too. Hold your candle close to 
 that little hole, there in the crevice; see, it is 
 lined with quartz crystals, which glisten like 
 diamonds in the light. The miners call such 
 cavities " vtiggs." and they are often quite 
 large and very pretty. Sometimes native sil- 
 ver occurs among the crystals, in the shape 
 of fine wire. 
 
 Our clothes are not water-proof, however, 
 and we are getting quite wet. " So, Harry, 
 
i So 
 
 SILVER MINING. 
 
 you can ring for the bucket." How deep are 
 we? About six hundred feet. The shaft is 
 not quite straight enough for us to see day- 
 light from where we stand. Do they work 
 in the mines at night? Yes, night and day. 
 As soon as the day hands have worked out 
 their time, another set of miners take their 
 place. 
 
 Do accidents ever happen did you ask? 
 Occasionally. The men sometimes get blown 
 up by a blast; sometimes they are thrown from 
 the bucket while going up and down the shaft; 
 and sometimes a rock falls upon them from 
 above. But in a well-regulated mine such ac- 
 cidents seldom occur. There is much more 
 danger in a coal mine than in one of the kind 
 we are in. 
 
 But here is the bucket. Some mines have 
 " cages " instead of the ordinary bucket, which 
 work on a principle quite similar to the " ele- 
 
 vators " you have seen in large hotels. But 
 we shall have to content ourselves with a com- 
 mon bucket; so step in with both feet. I will 
 keep one foot out to steer with. Hold your 
 head close to the rope. Harry, give the bell 
 four strokes, so the engineer may know he 
 has live freight on board instead of rock. 
 Here we go. Harry, steady the bucket until 
 it reaches the planks. Now we are all right. 
 It seems a little strange at first, but you will 
 soon get used to it. There, you can see the 
 light far above us. and gradually it grows 
 lighter around us. See those heads peering 
 out of the drift, looking like so many gnomes, 
 those favorites with the German story-tellers, 
 you remember. 
 
 Drifts, stopes, stulls, and gnomes are far 
 below us, and here we are in daylight once 
 more, a little tired, and decidedly muddy, but, 
 I trust, repaid for our trouble. 
 
A LONDON FIREMAN'S "NIGHT OF IT." 
 
 iSl- 
 
 THE FIRE ESCAPE. 
 
 A LONDON FIREMAN'S "NIGHT OF IT," 
 
 BY R. M. BALLANTYNE. 
 
 M BRANDERS had broad shoulders 
 and tough sinews, blue eyes and a bright, 
 bold face. 
 
 The most dignified of men may sometimes 
 become ridiculous. No one who had seen 
 Tom Branders, for the first time, on the night 
 of the 2oth December, 18 , could have believed 
 it possible that he was regarded by his com- 
 rades as one of the most sedate, grave, manly, 
 earnest fellows in the Brigade; for, on the 
 night in question, he sat in his sentry-box, the 
 absolute impersonation of idiotic imbecility. 
 
 The fact is, that Tom had been overcome by 
 sleep. Prolonged watching had at length in- 
 duced a condition of mind which seemed to ren- 
 der " appearances " a matter of supreme indif- 
 ference. His cap had tumbled with a reckless 
 air over one eye ; his curly forelock had strag- 
 gled over the bridge of his nose ; his broad 
 shoulders 'stooped to an extent that suggested 
 the snapping of the spine; his well-shaped head 
 swayed about as if in wavering uncertainty as 
 to whether it would bump the back, or sides, or 
 frontof the sentry-box, and his firm lips broke 
 occasionally into a remonstrative smile when 
 
 an unusually violentbump half awoke him, and 
 sent an echo, as if from a giant drum, through 
 the silent street. 
 
 Although occupying a sentry-box, Tom 
 Branders was not a defender of his country; 
 although a brass helmet hung from a peg just 
 over his head, he was not a member of the 
 horse-guards ; although clad in a blue uniform, 
 with a broad belt and a big, piratical buckle, 
 he was not one of the marines, albeit the 
 round, sailor's cap on his head did smack 
 somewhat of the sea. Nevertheless, Tom was 
 truly a warrior in an enemy's country, too, 
 surrounded by the foe night and day, and 
 liable at any and every moment to be ordered 
 into action. He was a member of the London 
 Fire Brigade, and, at the time we write of, was 
 doing duty as guardian of a fire escape. 
 
 It is only of late years that the London fire- 
 men have had charge of the fire-escapes. In 
 former times these were ably managed by a 
 society supported by voluntary contributions. 
 Now they are under government, and the reg- 
 ular firemen take their turn of duty at them 
 night about. 
 
 The great city was in its deepest condition 
 of repose, for it was a little after three A. M., 
 at which hour late revellers had staggered to 
 their respective homes, and early risers were 
 
A LONDON FIREMAN'S NIGHT OF IT. 
 
 not yet stirring. The profound silence of 
 busy Paddington was broken only by the oc- 
 casional heel of a policeman and the inter- 
 mittent drumming of Tom Branders's head 
 before referred to. Presently there was added 
 to these sounds the quick pattering of youth- 
 ful footsteps, and ere long a very small and 
 ragged urchin came trotting along, with his 
 hands deep in his trousers pockets, and with 
 that jovially reckless air that characterizes 
 most of the London street-boys. He appeared 
 to be in a hurry : nevertheless, endued with 
 that wonderful capacity which is usually sup- 
 posed to belong exclusively to great minds, 
 he found time, in the midst of his more press- 
 ing engagements, to devote much of his at- 
 tention to every small matter or trivial incident 
 that cropped up in his path. In virtue of this 
 capacity he saluted the policeman by the fa- 
 miliar name of " Bobby," asked several of 
 them how they fared in regard to soap, gave 
 them a good deal of gratuitous advice, and 
 took a lively farewell by applying his thumb 
 to his nose and wriggling his fingers always, 
 however, sheering off into the middle of the 
 road, from prudential motives. Having rec- 
 ommended a neighboring weathercock to crow, 
 if that would afford any relief to its elevated 
 spirit, and having whistled in at a keyhole, in 
 the earnest hope that the act might suggest 
 dreams of burglary to those within, our play- 
 ful urchin came suddenly round the corner 
 of the church under the shadow of which stood 
 the fire-escape of that district. 
 
 Standing beside the huge wheels, and look- 
 ing up at the tall ladders with a critical air, 
 he was about to apostrophize the machine, 
 when a drum-like noise proceeded from the 
 neighboring sentry-box. An expression of 
 beaming glee overspread the urchin's features 
 instantly. He went on tiptoe to the front of 
 the sentry-box, opened the door gently, and 
 stood there gazing with intense delight at 
 Tom Branders's waving head and idiotic smiles. 
 An occasional squeaking sound, which pro- 
 ceeded from the boy's nose, gave indication of 
 internal convulsions, and a mischievous twinkle 
 in his eye showed that he meant to " improve 
 the occasion ; " but the rush of cold air through 
 the open door awoke the fireman with a start. 
 Becoming instantly conscious of the grinning 
 boy, he sprang upon him with a growl ; but 
 the small creature eluded his grasp, and fled 
 away with a yell of laughter, in tRe midst of 
 which he was plainly heard to ask the dis- 
 turbed fireman if his mother was aware of his 
 absence from home. 
 
 Tom Branders listened to his retreating 
 
 footsteps with a good-humored smile on his 
 face, for he had a sort of undercurrent of 
 affection for the entire class of street-boys, 
 and then turned, sailor-like, to observe the 
 weather as indicated by the sky. We say sail- 
 or-like advisedly, because Tom had been a 
 man-of-war's-man. All the men of the Lon- 
 don Fire Brigade are picked young men from 
 the navy, the training undergone in that force 
 being found pre-eminently suitable for the pro- 
 duction of good firemen. 
 
 Having surveyed the horizon as far as the 
 chimney-pots would allow him, Tom consulted 
 his watch, examined his escape, looked up and 
 down the street, and then, gazing at the moon, 
 slowly shook his head. 
 
 In the Sentry-Box. 
 
 There was an air of anxiety and sadness 
 about the man's expression which appeared 
 somewhat inconsistent with his strength and 
 high health and somewhat wild calling. After 
 gazing thoughtfully upwards for a few minutes, 
 he began to walk briskly up and down, the 
 night air being keen and frosty. 
 
 He had not walked long when a woman 
 came quickly round the corner of the church. 
 
 "Molly!" exclaimed the fireman, turning 
 suddenly round with a look of surprise, "you 
 here? " 
 
 " I could not help it, Tom. Our darling is 
 worse, much worse. I think she is sinking." 
 
 She laid her head on her husband's breast 
 and sobbed. 
 
A LONDON FIREMAN'S "NIGHT OF. IT. 
 
 " Come, Molly, don't give way like that," 
 said the fireman, in soothing tones, strok- 
 ing the woman's hair with his hand. 
 
 " O, it is so hard ! " she exclaimed, with a 
 touch of bitterness, ' to have our first, our 
 only one, our darling Alice, taken away so 
 soon." 
 
 "Molly, Molly," said the man, tenderly, 
 " the Lord gave, an' if it be his will to " 
 
 He could not finish the sentence. With a 
 strong effort he crushed down his feelings. 
 
 " Has the doctor been to see her ? " he asked, 
 after a pause. 
 
 The Rescue. 
 
 " Yes. He said that if she could only fall 
 asleep, she might get the turn ; but she has 
 been restless ever since he gave her the draught, 
 and I came out to tell you. Surely, Tom, it 
 will be no sin to leave your post just for f ve 
 or ten minutes, to see her before she. d*ee t" 
 
 "Impossible, Mary, impossible," said the 
 man, almost sternly. 
 
 " Can a short ten minutes be of such im- 
 portance?" said Mary. "Many and many a 
 night you have stood here without having a 
 call. Is it likely there will be a call to-night, 
 within that short space of time?" 
 
 " There may be ; but, whether or not, Molly, 
 my duty is here. Life and death sometimes 
 
 hinge on my being prompt. If by going home 
 I could save the life of our darling, I might be 
 tempted; but " 
 
 " Well, I can't wait to talk," sobbed Mary, 
 drawing her shawl round her with a shudder. 
 " Our neighbor, Mrs. Davids, has kindly taken 
 care of her while I came out to see you. I 
 Hush! What is that?" 
 
 Shouts and a sound as if of hurrying feet 
 were heard. 
 
 The fireman made no answer, except by giv- 
 ing Molly one fervent embrace. Next moment 
 he had struck a light and kindled the two lamps 
 of his escape. The hurrying footsteps drew 
 near, and the shouts sounded like the word 
 "Fire!" 
 
 Tom Branders had flung his cap into the 
 sentry-box, and donned his brass helmet before 
 the first of the runners came round the corner 
 of the church in the shape of a small boy 
 the same small boy who had passed the place 
 not many minutes before. His eyes were al- 
 most starting out of his head with real excite- 
 ment and anxiety, as he yelled, " Fire, fire! " 
 vociferously. 
 
 "Just so, my tulip," said Tom, calmly, as 
 he thrust a small hatchet into his belt. 
 
 Tom's actions were marked by a wonderful 
 degree of celerity, while his countenance wore 
 an expression of unruffled serenity, like an 
 expert pugilist, who hits out like lightning, 
 while he smiles like an easy-going Cupid. 
 
 " Look sharp, fireman ! " cried a policeman, 
 as he dashed round the corner at full speed. 
 
 " All right, Robert," exclaimed Tom, seizing 
 the levers of his escape. " Now, then, lend a 
 hand will you ? " 
 
 This was addressed to four men, who came 
 up at the same moment. These, with the 
 policeman, willingly lent their aid, and, in 
 much less time than the account of it has taken 
 to write, the fire-escape was going at full speed 
 to the scene of one of those conflagrations of 
 which there is an average of five a night 
 throughout the year in London. 
 
 Fire-escapes are studded so thickly through- 
 out London that there is always sure to be 
 one in readiness within a few minutes' call of 
 any spot where a fire may occur. Our hero, 
 therefore, soon reached the place where his 
 services were in demand. 
 
 Frequently an escape reaches a fire a few 
 minutes sooner than do the fire-engines, ow- 
 ing to its nearer proximity ; and the man in 
 charge is provided with a hand-pump, so that, 
 in the event of there being no one to be res- 
 cued from the windows, he may begin to check 
 the fire at once. At the commencement of a 
 fire a small stream of water may be sufficient 
 
A .LONDON FIREMAN'S NIGHT OF IT. 
 
 184 
 
 to quell it, although five or ten minutes later 
 a mountain torrent would have little or no 
 effect on it. Hence fire-escape men are often 
 the means of stemming the tide of what, but 
 for their energy, would have become a great 
 conflagration. But it was not so on the pres- 
 ent occasion. The fire had broken out from 
 the first with irresistible fury, in a dry-salter's 
 store, so that, when the escape was run up, 
 sheets of flame and volumes of smoke were 
 already pouring out of the lower windows. 
 
 "No use for the hand-pump here," muttered 
 Tom Branders, as he pushed vigorously through 
 the crowd, which was fast collecting. 
 
 That there was use for the escape, however, 
 was evident from the shrieks that were heard 
 issuing from the numerous windows directly 
 above the burning store. 
 
 It was a somewhat poor neighborhood, and 
 the rooms above the store were densely in- 
 habited by people in indigent circumstances. 
 Most of these had escaped down a back stair, 
 and were now in front of the house uttering 
 frantic cries for " help," and " ladders ; " stat- 
 ing, in wild, incoherent sentences, thatchildren 
 or parents were still in various parts of the 
 threatened building. Some of them, after 
 escaping, had run back to attempt the rescue 
 of relatives ; but in an incredibly short time 
 the back and front stairs were both rendered 
 impassable by the fire. 
 
 Tom Branders at once unshipped his short 
 ladders, and planted them at two of the lower 
 windows, where a man and two women were 
 seen in the midst of suffocating smoke, wildly 
 flinging about their arms, and shouting for 
 help. These he left to the care of the police- 
 man and one or two of the more daring in- 
 habitants of the neighborhood, who soon res- 
 cued them. Meanwhile he ran the escape 
 towards an upper window of the tenement, 
 where a woman was seen with a child in her 
 arms. 
 
 The head of the escape just reached the 
 window. With the activity of a cat, Tom ran 
 up the ladder and seized the woman, who was 
 making frantic but not very successful efforts 
 to scramble out of the window with the child 
 in her arms. At the same moment there was 
 a loud shout from the crowd, and a stentorian 
 voice directed the fireman to the windows of 
 the floor above. Just then a suffocating cloud 
 of smoke well nigh choked our hero, and im- 
 mediately after a sheet of flame shot up through 
 the floor and wrapped round his legs, while the 
 din around him was rendered more bewil- 
 dering by the furious rattle and roar caused 
 by the advent of two fire-engines, which gal- 
 loped up to the scene of action. 
 
 There was not a moment to lose. The wo- 
 man was too excited to act. Tom, therefore, 
 seized her and the child in his strong arms, 
 plunged headforemost into the long canvas 
 bag, or shoot, which hung underneath the 
 ladder, and slid in safety to the ground, press- 
 ing his outspread knees against the sides of 
 the shoot, to regulate the speed of his descent. 
 Jumping up, and leaving the woman and child 
 to be cared for by others, he seized the side- 
 ropes of the levers, by means of which the flying- 
 ladder was raised so as to reach upper floors. 
 
 "Lend a hand here, lads!" he cried, 
 sharply. 
 
 The London Boy. 
 
 Men of his own brigade were now ready to- 
 answer the call, each a thorough adept in the 
 management of fire-escapes. Leaving to them 
 the work of hauling on the levers, he sprang- 
 up and gained the fly-ladder almost before it- 
 was pitched. It touched the window-sill where 
 the man was screaming; but the smoke, burst- 
 ing out in a dense cloud just then, prevented 
 him from seeing what was being done. Chok- 
 ing, and in a fit of desperation, he leaped from! 
 the window. Tom was within six feet of him 
 at the moment, and saw him leap. Clutching 
 the ladder with one hand, he leaned back and; 
 received the falling man on his broad chest. 
 The stout machine quivered under the shock, 
 and strain, but did not give way. Seeing that 
 the man was able at least to hold on, Tom. 
 whispered t^^rord of encouragement, scrarn- 
 
A LONDON FIREMAN'S "NIGHT OF IT." 
 
 185 
 
 bled past him, and leaped through the window 
 into the room. Here all was darkness, owing 
 to smoke; but Tom was accustomed to smoke, 
 and "knew exactly how far he was able to stand 
 partial suffocation. 
 
 There is a saying that " knowledge is pow- 
 er." The saying was verified by Tom Branders 
 on this occasion. His thorough knowledge, 
 founded on training and experience, gave him 
 the power to keep cool and act, where braver 
 men if such could be might, in their ig- 
 norance, have quailed. He sprang across the 
 apartment, and tumbled over an elderly man. 
 who had just fallen down in his blind haste 
 to reach the window. 
 
 Alice is alive. 
 
 Tom raised him quickly, bore him to the 
 ladder, and was carrying him down on his 
 shoulder, when he began to struggle, and 
 gasped, 
 
 " Save, O, save my child my Alice ! " 
 
 " Can you hold on?" cried Tom, setting his 
 burden against the ladder. 
 
 " Yes, O, yes ; don't mind me. Alice, Alice I 
 Quick ! The attic above the room where you 
 found me ! " 
 
 The fireman needed no second bidding. 
 Leaping once more up the ladder, and know- 
 ing well that his comrades would look after 
 the man who clung to it, he dashed across the 
 room, found a door, burst it open, leaped up a 
 narrow wooden staircase, and felt for the door 
 
 of the attic, but could not find it. All round 
 him was black as midnight, and he felt that 
 a few moments more of such smoke must over- 
 power him. The thought of his own sick, 
 dying child came vividly to his mind ; and the 
 knowledge that one who bore the same name 
 must perish in a few minutes if he did not 
 succeed in rescuing her, drove him frantic. He 
 drew his hatchet, and was about to make an 
 insane attempt to cut through the wall, when 
 he observed a small skylight in the low roof, 
 against which the comb of his helmet had al- 
 ready struck once or twice. 
 
 To dash this into atoms was the work of a 
 few seconds. Regular drill-practice in the 
 gymnasium of the brigade had rendered it an 
 easy matter for him to haul himself up through 
 the hole and get out on the roof. Here the 
 fresh air revived him, and here he fo"fend a 
 window leading into the attic. One thrust 
 with his foot dashed in the whole frame, and 
 he leaped through, followed by a wild cheer 
 from the crowd below, who had caught sight 
 of him in his giddy position on the edge of the 
 roof, surrounded by smoke and lurid firelight. 
 But it was not a giddy position to Tom. Many 
 a time, during wild storms, had he laid out to 
 reef the topsails of a man-of-war ; and often 
 had he stood on the main truck, in calm weath- 
 er, " for fun." Thus was he trained to attempt 
 deeds of daring on better grounds than "fun." 
 Tom was rejoiced to find the attic compara- 
 tively free from s.moke, though tiny wreaths 
 rising from seams in the floor showed that it 
 would not long remain a place of safety. In 
 a low truckle-bed lay a little girl, ruddy with 
 the hue of health, and sound asleep, despite 
 the noise around her. The crash caused by 
 his leaping on the floor, however, awoke her 
 with a start, and she uttered a wild scream of 
 terror as the fireman's huge, dark form met 
 her gaze. The scream was redoubled when 
 Tom seized her in his strong arms and lifted 
 her, blanket and all, out of bed. There was 
 no time for ceremony or delay. 
 
 "Alice, dear," said the fireman, in atone as 
 soothing as was compatible with his violent 
 and swift action, " don't fear; you're all safe. 
 Father's below." 
 
 * But Alice was deaf to all blandishment. She 
 continued to yell and kick in abject terror, 
 while her deliverer bore her out on the roof, 
 walked slowly along the narrow ledge, where 
 the loosening of a single brick, or the loss of 
 balance by a hair's breadth, would have pitched 
 them headlong on the stones below. Still 
 screaming and kicking, she was borne down 
 the skylight; but, while traversing the pas- 
 sage and the attic stair, and the lower room 
 
i86 
 
 A LONDON FIREMAN'S NIGHT OF IT. 
 
 to the window, she was silent, being nearly 
 choked. A few seconds later and they were 
 upon the fly-ladder, and the blanket was 
 drawn tight over the child's head, for, during 
 the descent, tongues of fire as well as clouds 
 of smoke swept around them. Gaining the 
 top of the lower ladder, Tom plunged head- 
 foremost into the canvas shoot, and, guiding 
 himself, as before, by his knees, reached the 
 ground in safety amidst enthusiastic cheers. 
 
 In the midst of the congratulations that 
 were showered on him, and the natural feelings 
 of thankfulness and exultation that swelled 
 his breast, Tom heard words that stemmed 
 the tide of gladness, and sent a chill to his 
 heart. 
 
 "Cheer up, man; rouse yourself ; the child 
 is safe. Your Alice is alive and well ! " 
 
 The father, overcome by exhaustion and 
 terror, had swooned ; but these words charmed 
 his spirit back. 
 
 " Alive and well ! " he cried, raising himself 
 and looking round wildly; then, as the little 
 one rushed into his arms, " Thank the Lord, 
 Alice is alive 1 " 
 
 " God help me ! " thought poor Tom Bran- 
 ders ; " my Alice is ill, perhaps dead I " 
 
 " Not much hurt, Tom, I hope," said the 
 foreman of the brigade in that district, coming 
 forward and glancing earnestly at our hero's 
 singed head, blackened visage, and bloody 
 hands. " Here, one of you, fetch a glass of 
 spirits!" 
 
 " I'm all right, sir. No, no spirits, thankee. 
 I don't need 'em. I'm only scratched a bit 
 with the broken glass." 
 
 " Well, get home as fast as you can. You've 
 done enough to-night, Tom. We'll manage 
 the rest without you. There are no more to 
 be saved now ; or, if there are, it's too late. 
 And we're getting it under." 
 
 As he spoke, the truth of what he said was 
 confirmed by the flames bursting upwards 
 with a terrific glare, and the roof of the build- 
 ing falling in with a crash that sent myriads 
 of sparks into the wintry sky. 
 
 Tom, therefore, glad to be relieved, started 
 off at a brisk pace for his home, which was 
 not more than twenty minutes' walk from the 
 spot. 
 
 At the outskirts of the crowd he observed 
 that a small, ragged boy ran by his side, about 
 a pace behind him, and appeared desirous of 
 attracting his attention. 
 
 " What d'ye want, lad ? " he demanded, some- 
 what sternly, as he stopped. 
 
 " Please, sir," said the boy, in a somewhat 
 hesitating tone, " I'm sorry I did it." 
 
 " Sorry you did what?" asked Tom. 
 
 " That I that I said that w'en you was in 
 the sentry-box." 
 
 " Said what? I don't understand you." 
 
 " Axed you if if your mother knowed you 
 was hout." 
 
 Torn burst into a hearty fit of laughter; for, 
 although he had suspected, for an instant, 
 that the urchin was chaffing him, a second 
 glance at his flushed face and eager gaze con- 
 vinced him that he was in earnest. 
 
 "Well, is that all you've got to say?" he 
 asked. 
 
 " That's all," replied the boy, with a grin. 
 
 "You're a queer lot, and I'd like to have a 
 chat with ee, but haven't got time just now. 
 Will you be passin' this way Tooseday next in 
 the evenin'? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Just give a call at my box will you? I'll 
 be on dooty there again that night." 
 
 "I will," said the boy, decidedly. 
 
 The fireman shook the urchin's dirty little 
 hand, and so they parted. 
 
 It was still dark when Tom Branders turned 
 the corner of his own little street and knocked 
 softly at the door of his dwelling. Not so 
 knocked his heart against his heaving breast, 
 when Mary lifted the latch and let him in. 
 
 "I'm glad you are late," said his wife. 
 
 " Why so?" asked Tom, in some anxiety. 
 
 " Because our darling has been sleeping 
 sweetly for three hours, and still sleeps. The 
 doctor has been here again, and says that she 
 has got the turn, and we have every reason to 
 hope that she will recover." 
 
 The fireman's first impulse was to exclaim, 
 in the words of the father to whose heart he 
 had so recently brought gladness, " Thank 
 the Lord, Alice is alive ! " Then, sitting by 
 the bedside of his slumbering child, he related 
 to his wife, in whispered sentences, how that 
 a great fire had broken out, and many lives 
 had been in jeopardy, and another Alice 
 would probably have been among the dead at 
 that hour, and another father would have been 
 in deepest woe, if he had forsaken his post 
 that night even for the brief space of quarter 
 of an hour! 
 
 To dress the slight cuts in his hands, and 
 remove the traces of his recent battle with the 
 flames, was a work that occupied the fireman 
 but a short space of time. Thereafter he kissed 
 his sleeping child, flung himself, half dressed, 
 upon his bed, and in two minutes was sound 
 asleep, with his coat, cap, belt, boots, and 
 breeches laid handy on a chair, to be ready at 
 a moment's notice for another " call ; " for the 
 London fireman's warfare is perpetual, and hit 
 vigils never em* 
 
SARDINES 
 
 I8 7 
 
 RACE FOR A MARKET. Page 192. 
 
 SAEDINES, 
 
 WHEBE THEY COME FROM, AND HOW 
 THEY ABE CAUGHT. 
 
 BY GEORGE M. TOWLE. 
 
 HAVE you never wondered, as at the home* 
 tea-table you partook of the delicate, 
 shiny little fish which come in such tight, 
 hard-to-get-open boxes, packed in such tempt- 
 ing little layers, and, when once extricated 
 from their air-tight prisons, so deliciously 
 tasting, have you never wondered how they 
 are caught, and by what means they are so 
 skilfully preserved ? How came they by their 
 name, which reminds you of an interesting 
 island in the Mediterranean, and of a snug 
 little kingdom under the Alps, where Victor 
 Emmanuel used to reign in modest state be- 
 fore he was called upon to sit upon the throne 
 of united Italy at Rome? And how can such 
 little fish be caught? and what makes them so 
 much more delicate than the smelt and min- 
 nows which we fish out of the harbor and the 
 little rustic streams? 
 
 I am going to tell you about an interesting 
 excursion I once made to the very spot where 
 almost, if not quite, all the sardines we get in 
 America are gathered out of the sea. It was 
 
 not in the Mediterranean, as you might sup- 
 pose ; for, although sardines are so called be- 
 cause they were originally found in glistening 
 shoals round about the Sardinian Island, but 
 few are now taken in that beautiful southern 
 sea. The great sardine trade is supplied from 
 the coasts of the Bay of Biscay, where, you, 
 no doubt, have heard, the storms rage with 
 unusual violence, whose waters are often 
 strewed with wrecks, and which lashes the 
 shores of France with a sort of spiteful fury, 
 as if it were a very greedy sea, and wanted 
 more elbow-room. Starting from Paris at five 
 in the evening, it took me all night to cross 
 France, going westward ; and in the morning 
 I found myself at Nantes, a quaint, tumble- 
 down old city, where the houses seemed tipsy, 
 and the streets crazy, the capital of ancient 
 Brittany. Here, you may remember, in the 
 old, round-towered castle, which they now use 
 as a barracks, the good Henry of Navarre 
 signed the famous Edict of Nantes, which 
 gave a little freedom and breathing-time to 
 the poor, persecuted Protestants of France. 
 But I did not remain there long, though it was 
 interesting to wander about the musty old 
 squares, and linger in the lofty, age- worn 
 cathedral. A further railway journey along 
 the banks of the wide, rapid, and island- 
 
188 
 
 SARDINES. 
 
 studded Loire brought me to the coast. A 
 queer coast it was, bordered here with long, 
 flat marshes, reaching on one side as far as eye 
 could reach; there with big, jagged, eccentric 
 rocks, some of which seemed on the point of 
 throwing their next-door rock-neighbor into 
 the sea, and others lay over on their sides, as 
 if they were tired of resisting the waters, and 
 were at last yielding to the persistent castiga- 
 tion of the waves. It was about the first of 
 June the fishing season, as th M^w Eng- 
 land boys very well know, almost everywhere. 
 Had I been at home, I should have been, on 
 that same first of "June, buried in the depths 
 of the New Hampshire hills, following trout 
 streams up the cool woods, being bitten now 
 
 At Nantes. 
 
 and then, doubtless, by mosquitos, but so 
 rapt in circumventing the sly little wretches 
 in the brook as to let them bite without a 
 struggle. Here I was, however, far off on the 
 west coast of France, surrounded by a num- 
 ber of rough old fishermen with faces that 
 looked like leather, blue frocks, big, wooden 
 shoes, and speaking a language which not 
 even my Parisian chum, who came with me, 
 could comprehend, and which I consequently 
 did not try to unravel. They were big, brown 
 fellows, with rough voices, like a trombone 
 with a very bad cold, but good-natured withal, 
 and ate their breakfast of cold buckwheat 
 cakes, sour bread, and more sour wine, with 
 as much gusto as you and I do a nice Ameri- 
 can dinner at home. 
 
 All along that queer-looking coast which, 
 I observed, everywhere had exactly the ap- 
 pearance of having been for centuries the 
 battle-ground of water against earth, waves 
 against rocks they were fishing for sardines. 
 The extent of sea over which the fishing goes 
 on comprises many miles, extending from 
 Morbihan to La Vendee : the best quality, ac- 
 cording to the fishermen's traditions, is to be 
 found opposite a picturesque little seaport in 
 the south, called Les Sables d'Olonnes. Myri- 
 ads of these beautiful little fishes begin to 
 swarm up the coast, in shoals of some thirty 
 feet wide, early in the spring. Go out a mile 
 or so from the shore in one of the old, flat, 
 lumbering fishermen's boats, at this time of 
 year, and you will see these shoals floating 
 not far from the surface, and glittering like an 
 infinite number of little aqueous prisms. The 
 little shiners are countless, and wiggle along 
 close together, packed almost as tightly as 
 they are destined soon to be in those extremely 
 obstinate boxes, and move in so solid a mass 
 that, unless you look very intently, you may 
 imagine them to comprise but one big. glis- 
 tening, many-colored sea monster. When they 
 are young, they are, like human children, in- 
 nocent and confiding, and fearing nothing, 
 keep pretty close to the shore, and even at 
 times run in shoals up the bays and inlets. 
 As they grow bigger, however, which they do 
 very fast as the summer advances, they begin 
 to get suspicious, and more shy of the shore, 
 and when they have become quite mature, 
 cannot be induced to approach nearer than 
 'nine or ten miles from man's earthly habita- 
 tion. The sardines are very tender little fel- 
 lows; they are as sensitive to raw and squally 
 weather as an elderly lady with weak lungs. 
 When it is warm and the sun shines bright, 
 in what countless shoals do they dot the wa- 
 ters ! But let a chilly breeze come up, and 
 the heavens become leaden, and you may 
 scour the sea far and near, to catch sight of 
 one of them, in vain. 
 
 We get into one of the squat, ugly boats, 
 with its queer, flat oars, and its rough and 
 rather too leaky bottom, and push off" from the 
 rocks. There are with us four stout Breton 
 fishermen, in coarse, caps and blouses, and a 
 pudgy Breton boy, with a big moon face and 
 rather dull eyes, bronzed brown with a con- 
 stant exposure to the sun. He is bareheaded, 
 and his hair is the color of decayed tow. We 
 are provided with several closely-woven nets, 
 and in one corner of the boat is a tub full of 
 cod roe. Cod roe is the bait wherewith the 
 tender shiners are lured from their native ele- 
 
tt 
 
 fel 
 
 
SARDINES. 
 
 Dropping the Net. 
 
 ment. The roe and milt of ling fash are also 
 much used. This roe is imported, at consider- 
 able cost, from Norway, and might be from 
 the United States if our merchants and the 
 Bretons knew it. Often the fishermen have to 
 pay between twenty and thirty dollars in gold 
 per barrel for it, and they require some $400.000 
 worth of it every fishing season. Each boat 
 consumes yearly seventeen barrels of it. Some- 
 times the fishermen mix with the roe a kind 
 of shrimps, native to their coast, which are 
 collected by odd old women in the salt marsh- 
 es round about, and sold to the fishermen. 
 These old women are called "chevrettieres," 
 which might be translated in our American 
 slang as u shrimpists." The fishermen say 
 that these shrimps are only of use to disturb 
 the water, for the sardines do not take to them 
 as bait. When we have got out, by dint of 
 persistent pulling, jerking, and bouncing, some 
 three leagues from the shore, and, looking 
 back, can see the coast of stormy old Biscay 
 stretching dim and jagged for miles up and 
 down, our chief fisherman, who uses his au- 
 thority with sober sternness, and speaks very 
 little, gives orders to stop rowing; and pres- 
 ently we see why, for now the shoals of sar- 
 dines begin to glisten all around in the water, 
 four or five feet below the surface, and the 
 fishing is about to begin. Slowly and care- 
 fully the mesh is unwrapped, stretched out, 
 and held over the boat's side. Here comes a 
 shoal of fine, fat little fellows, wiggling co- 
 quettishly along, and quite unsuspicious of their 
 danger. The net is quickly and silently slid 
 right down among them, not horizontally or 
 slantingly, but perpendicularly, so that it 
 floats like a little wall of thread. Then, in an 
 instant, captain plunges his hand in the roe, 
 crushes it out of lumps into bits, and scatters 
 it thick and fast as near to the mesh as he can. 
 The countless sardines rush for it headlong, 
 and rush and jostle each other, and are so in- 
 tent on the roe that, before they know it, 
 
 thousands of them are hopelessly entangled 
 in the meshes, and stick there struggling. 
 There are still multitudes left after the net is 
 completely dotted with the poor, captive little 
 creatures. The net is pulled up, another fresh 
 net instantly inserted in its place, which gath- 
 ers a harvest as plentiful as the preceding one. 
 More roe is thrown out, and trickles fast down 
 through the green waters; and thus again 
 and again the nets are thrown and drawn in, 
 laden heavy with their fishy burden. 
 
 Observe that the sardines are not bagged 
 in the nets, as most fish caught with nets 
 are> but are caught in the meshes, and hang 
 helplessly entangled in them, in a. hopeless 
 though desperate struggle to set themselves 
 free. And now the inside of the flat-bottomed 
 boat is swarming with the shining, writhing 
 mass; but they soon cease to writhe; for our 
 remorseless captain proceeds to sprinkle salt 
 over them, right and left. The reason of this 
 is, that the sardine is the frailest and most 
 delicate fish that swims. After he has been 
 out of water an hour, he begins to decay, and 
 the salt is sprinkled over him to preserve him 
 temporarily until there is time to put him upon 
 the market for sale, or till he can be consigned 
 to the factories for permanent preservation. 
 But they are not so much salted when thus 
 taken out of their native element but that they 
 are mighty pleasant to the palate even of 
 him who does not like salt fish. In the Breton 
 towns and cities fresh sardines are a very fa- 
 vorite, because cheap and delicious, article of 
 food. Should you spend a night in one of 
 them at about the period when the fishing is 
 going on, you would be startled from your 
 slumbers by a very queer, shrill, long-drawn- 
 out cry under your windows. Should you 
 summon courage, and have the curiosity, to 
 jump out of bed and go to your window, you 
 would see a great, brawny, leather-colored 
 peasant woman passing along the street, clat- 
 tering noisily with her big wooden shoes, and 
 
192 
 
 SARDINES. 
 
 you would discern upon her head a long, flat 
 basket full of sardines. These she sells from 
 door to door, going her rounds early enough to 
 provide her fare for the breakfast-tables; she 
 sells them for a cent or two each, though if 
 she perceives you to be " Anglais " or " Ameri- 
 cain," she will try to get double the ordinary 
 price out of you. These sardines are only a 
 very trifle salt : get your landlady to fry them 
 in the peculiar Breton fashion, and you will 
 have a most delicious, delicate, savory break- 
 fast of them, fit for a king, and such a break- 
 fast, indeed, as kings themselves would only 
 obtain by going where the sardines are ; the 
 mountain must come to Mohammed. They 
 are, prepared in this way, the sweetest, and 
 
 Sardine Vender. 
 
 tenderest, and juiciest of all the finny tribe. 
 But, of course, by far the larger portion of the 
 sardines are sold by the fishermen to the fac- 
 tories for preserving and sending them abroad. 
 There are very many of these factories all 
 along the Breton coast, and there is a lively 
 competition among them to secure the freshest 
 and healthiest fish. So it is captain's great 
 ambition, having duly got in and salted down 
 his harvest, to hurry off and dispose of it be- 
 fore his rivals, who may be seen dotting the 
 waters at irregular distances for miles around, 
 have a chance to anticipate him. We are 
 therefore in a great hurry in our return voyage 
 shoreward. Captain is anxious, and rips out 
 savage, though to us quite incomprehensible, 
 Breton oaths at the other men for not rowing 
 more stoutly and steadily. He peers nervously 
 
 on this side and that, to see if Pierre or Jacques 
 is not making land before him. To be sure, 
 there is Jacques, frantically gesticulating, as he 
 stands in the stem of his boat, and very 
 nearly on a line with us, at sight of which 
 captain grows more nervous and profane than 
 ever, my Parisian friend thinks he is sum- 
 moning ten thousand imps or so to his aid, 
 and we lurch, and jerk, and crash so, that it 
 seems as if every moment we were about to 
 dump the whole of our precious load into the 
 boiling waters of Biscay. At last, however, 
 we make land in safety. Captain and his men 
 carefully gather up the sardines in rude tubs 
 and barrels ; a little wagon is at hand, with a 
 most solemn-faced little donkey saddled to it; 
 and before we have had more than time to ob- 
 serve that Jacques also is at his landing, and is 
 going through similar exertions, off rattles cap- 
 tain to the little town whose single topsy-turvy 
 spire just peeps above a cliff half a mile away. 
 We follow him as we can, for our legs are 
 somewhat stiff from being so long cramped in 
 the boat, and the shore is jagged and rocky, 
 and difficult to creep along. 
 
 Arrived at the " confiserie," as the preserving 
 establishment is called, we find that the canny 
 captain has already made his bargain with a 
 sleek-looking man, in the office near the door, 
 who is counting out some silver to him. Cap- 
 tain looks beaming, and hands a ten-sous piece 
 to each of his men, who rush off to treat 
 themselves, and, turning to us, tells us that 
 he has secured six francs (a dollar and a 
 quarter) per thousand for his boat-load. As 
 the load counted between four and five thou- 
 sand, it was a very successful day for the 
 average of a summer's work to each man is 
 not over about two hundred dollars. They, 
 like our summer-resort hotels, have to make 
 hay while the sun shines. 
 
 The proprietors of the " confiserie " lose no 
 time in submitting their acquisition to the 
 processes for preserving them. As we pass 
 through the rooms nearest the office, we ob- 
 serve piles of glistening tin boxes, of many 
 sizes, neatly stowed on long shelves, ready to 
 receive their contents now preparing for them 
 farther on. The first thing that is done to 
 the fish is to wash and scrape them with great 
 care; and this is done in a long room pro- 
 vided with sinks for the purpose, by a number 
 of strong, lusty-looking peasant women, who 
 wear long linen caps, which extend out hori- 
 zontally at the back of their heads, and have 
 metal chains around their necks. These women 
 wash and clean the sardines with great rapid- 
 ity, and take care that they are quite free/ronj 
 
SARDINES 
 
 193 
 
 the sand and weeds which cling to tnem. The 
 heads and gills are then quickly and skilfully 
 cut off with long, sharp, narrow-bladed knives, 
 and the bodies are then lightly sprinkled with 
 fine salt, which crystallizes on the surface, and 
 is afterwards scraped off and given as a per- 
 quisite to the women. Having been thus duly 
 washed and salted, they are laid out to dry 
 upon wire or willow frames : this is done in fine 
 weather on the roofs; and sardines are much 
 nicer if thus dried in the sun. But there is 
 a long, slightly heated room where they are 
 dried in case it is damp or rainy as it very 
 often is in inclement Brittany out of doors. 
 When they are thoroughly stiff and dry, they 
 are thrown into caldrons of boiling oil, situ- 
 
 Cleaning Sardines. 
 
 ated in the cellars, and here they are left seeth- 
 ing and sputtering for some two hours. Once 
 more, on having been thus thoroughly cooked, 
 they are laid out to dry. Then they are 
 taken to a room where a large number of open 
 tin boxes are arranged in rows along a series of 
 tables, and packed quickly therein, some of the 
 boiling oil being poured on them. The lids are 
 now fitted to the boxes, and these are subjected 
 to a jet of hot steam for a specified time. They 
 are thus sealed tight, and it is singular that 
 after this subjection to the steam the boxes 
 appear curved on both sides ; if they are found 
 not to be so, they are rejected as not air-tight. 
 They are soldered, burnished, and labelled by 
 the women, and sometimes are enamelled. 
 About one hundred of these boxes are packed 
 13 
 
 in each wooden case, and thus forwarded to 
 their destination. It is a curious fact about 
 sardines, that the longer they are kept, so the 
 box is not cracked or opened, the better they 
 are ; a long residence in the oil improves their 
 complexion as well as their taste ; they become 
 mellow and fine after several years' detention 
 in their oily prison. Hundreds of thousands 
 of these little boxes come yearly to this country, 
 giving to our housewives and cooks unlimited 
 bother in opening them, and our tables a 
 relish such as^we could ill do without, while for 
 a long journey or a picnic party they are well 
 nigh indispensable. Indeed, so popular are 
 these tiny inhabitants of restless Biscay, that 
 other fish, much less delicious, are put up by un- 
 scrupulous men, in a similar way, and labelled 
 "Sardines;" but those who arc accustomed 
 to the real article will seldom be deceived. 
 
ICE-BOATING. 
 
 IOE-BOATIM. 
 
 BY WILLIAM P. DUNCAN. 
 
 ICE-BOAT sailing is very exhilarating and 
 healthful, yet possesses the elements of 
 danger, which may add to its attractions for 
 some minds ; for boys are brave even to the 
 verge of recklessness, and many hair-breadth 
 escapes there are, the narration of which 
 would seem stranger than fiction. The writer 
 well remembers many years ago the thrilling 
 sensation experienced in his first ride over the 
 ice on a lake in a western town. Our boat 
 shaped like a flat-iron, with the rudder at the 
 point, a short runner under each corner, 
 rigged with mast, mainsail, and jib and the 
 boat in motion, like a flat-iron going back- 
 wards but such going! such motion ! The 
 lake was about two miles across, the wind 
 fair, our steersman a lad of nerve and spirit, 
 used to a boat. Our ride was simply delight- 
 ful, but all too short ; for when we started we 
 looked up, and then about and up again, and 
 lo ! we had reached the opposite shore. Dis- 
 tance was annihilated, steam-travel eclipsed, 
 crowded, unhealthy cars forgotten. We turned 
 about and fairly revelled in our coursings up 
 and down our icy way. That ride passed 
 safely enough, but our final landing was ef- 
 fected rather abruptly, by reason of the rudder 
 
 becoming somewhat unmanageable, and we 
 bunted the wharf in a way that more than 
 suggested a wreck, and sent our crew rolling 
 upon the ice very promiscuously but no 
 bones of ours were broken, though the front 
 of the boat was crushed in. 
 
 A few days after, having repaired damages, 
 we went on another excursion. It was near 
 the middle of spring; the ice looked sound 
 enough, though a little honeycombed in 
 spots ; and teams were yet crossing to the 
 mills on the other side. The lake formed the 
 mouth (rather a wide one) of a river that 
 flowed into Lake Michigan, some three miles 
 away. We could see its blue waters in the 
 distance, but as our boat was not fitted for 
 sailing there, we kept away from it. A high 
 wind had been blowing for many hours in- 
 land from the "big lake," and some of our 
 friends had cautioned us to look out for 
 " breaking-up time" and one more timid 
 than the rest had even advised us not .to ven- 
 ture far from shore; but, nothing daunted, 
 we embarked, and by a succession of tacks 
 crossed and re-crossed the lake several times. 
 The surface of the ice was dotted with many 
 sails that seemed all like swift, strong-winged, 
 white birds flying to and fro; and our hearty 
 "Ship ahoy!" was scarcely heard, if we 
 chanced to meet, so quickly did we pass. 
 
 There was a mill way down the lake, and 
 
ICE BOATING. 
 
 197 
 
 one of our number had an attraction in that vi- 
 cinity ; at any rate, he proposed taking a run 
 that way, and, boy-like, we all consented, not- 
 withstanding the caution we had received. 
 We arrived safely, and found very agreeable 
 company at the mill boarding-house, and the 
 proprietor strongly pressed us to stay that 
 night, for a " party" was contemplated in the 
 evening; and if any of my readers know what 
 a western "party" is, it will be acknowledged 
 a strong temptation was put in our way. Yet 
 to some of us it did seem that we ought to be 
 returning. We could hear the roar of the 
 " big lake," but the ice we had traversed 
 looked firm and secure, and we yielded. The 
 next morning, it was plain to see that the ice 
 had undergone a change. It had rained a lit- 
 tle during the night, and large patches of the 
 surface were covered with shallow pools of 
 water. There was a dark, treacherous appear- 
 ance to the ice, and one of our number de- 
 cided not to return with us, but go down to 
 the mouth of the river and cross in a ferry- 
 boat. The rest of us were determined to re- 
 turn as we came, although our kind host 
 urged us to follow the example of our cautious 
 comrade. 
 
 Bidding our friends good by, we started 
 homeward ; the wind was strong, still blowing 
 inland, and our steel runners fairly hummed 
 over the ice, as we flew on the wings of the 
 wind. We would dash through the surface 
 water, throwing it all about us, if by any 
 means we fell off our course. All went well 
 for a time, and we were congratulating our- 
 selves on our probable safe return, when sud- 
 denly, as we were bowling along at our top- 
 most speed, we spied just ahead of us a wide 
 seam in the ice, and the blue water of the 
 lake tossing and chafing either side of it. 
 
 " Put about ! " " Put about ! " " Put about ! " 
 was shouted by us all. 
 
 Our steersman, with wonderful speed, did 
 " put about," and our vessel obeyed the helm, 
 but with such terrible swiftness that one of 
 our number was hurled with frightful velocity 
 into the very chasm we were seeking to avoid. 
 
 It was a fearful moment; the catastrophe 
 broke upon us so suddenly, that we were ill 
 prepared for it. But, as I said before, our steers- 
 man was a lad of nerve and spirit, and putting 
 the craft in charge of one of our number, he 
 seized a pole which we carried, and ran quickly 
 to the very edge of the chasm, plunged it in, 
 peering anxiously in all directions; but no 
 boy was there. The thought was agonizing 
 that the current might have carried our luck- 
 less comrade under the ice ; but suddenly he 
 
 rose to the surface just beside us, and quickly 
 clutched the pole, as only one drowning can, 
 and we drew him safely out more dead than 
 alive. Our shouts of rejoicing rang out over 
 the lake, and, as we afterwards learned, were 
 heard miles away. Vigorous rubbing soon 
 restored our half-drowned sailor, who was 
 really going down for the third time as we 
 rescued him, and our spirits revived, for 
 youth is seldom long cast down, and our 
 pleasure at saving his life warmed our bodies 
 as well as our hearts. We started again along 
 the edge of the chasm, dragging our boat 
 till we reached the point, and, rounding it, 
 came up the other side, embarked, and once 
 more sped on our way. 
 
 "Do you see that ? " shouted one of our crew. 
 We looked astern, and ever and anon we could 
 see great cakes of ice turn up on end, and sink 
 again in the wake of our runners. Some of 
 us turned pale, I fear, but we were none the 
 less brave for it. Thanks to a kind Providence, 
 we skimmed the watery waste in safety, and 
 on reaching our home landing, found the 
 wharf lined with anxious friends, who received 
 us with loud acclamations of delight and wel- 
 come. That ended our ice-boating for the 
 season, for as we looked out the next morning, 
 we saw the ice moving majestically out to the 
 " big lake," and in a few hours it was all an 
 open sea. 
 
I 9 8 
 
 A BULL-FIGHT IN MADRID 
 
 { A BULL-HGrHT IN MADEID. 
 
 BY OLIVER OPTIC. 
 
 BETWEEN the bull-fight that you "read 
 about" and the bull-fight that j r ou see in 
 Spain at the present time, unless the imagina- 
 tion is quick, and ready to supply deficiencies, 
 there are some important differences. Possi- 
 bly the spectator who is filled with an intense 
 admiration of Spanish valor and skill, may be 
 able to realize all the glories of which he has 
 read in the books. We have come to the con- 
 clusion, as an explanation of the difference 
 between what we saw and what we read, 
 that something of the spirit of the age has 
 penetrated the interior of Spain; that as rail- 
 roads now extend from north to south, and 
 from east to west, 'over the entire length and 
 breadth of the country, they have produced a 
 change in the manners and customs of the 
 people. Wherever they go, they carry thrift 
 and intelligence, and elevate the ideas of even 
 the masses, giving broader and higher views 
 of life and its objects. A Catholic nation, 
 with the traditions of Spain behind it, with 
 the memories and monuments of Charles V. 
 and Philip II. still extant, which had the 
 moral courage to suppress the monasteries 
 within its borders, must be a progressive 
 
 nation. We refer to the action of a Catholic 
 people in a Catholic country. We should 
 hardly expect the bull-fight of to-day, though 
 the fiesta de toros is still retained, and still 
 enjoyed, to be what it was, even twenty years 
 ago, when hardly a railroad was in opera- 
 tion in all Spain. We should expect to see 
 in this amusement the same modifications 
 which we find in the other institutions of the 
 country. 
 
 We have been, told, and we have read, that 
 the young man who is paying his addresses to 
 a young lady takes her to the bull-fight as a 
 i matter of course, and that the omission to do 
 this would be considered a gross neglect; 
 gross enough to justify the lady in discarding 
 so neglectful a wooer. Of course, then, when 
 we went to a bull-fight, we expected to see a 
 vast number of ladies. The "bull-ring" of 
 Madrid is said to contain ten or twelve, thou- 
 sand people when it is full. We should judge 
 that its capacity was equal to this num- 
 ber. We visited it on an extraordinary occa- 
 sion, and every available space seemed to be 
 occupied, but the number of ladies did not 
 exceed two hundred; and we think there were 
 not more than half that number. We left the 
 place when the exhibition was half finished, 
 and walked for. an hour in the Prado, which 
 was crowded with people; but at least three 
 
A BULL-FIGHT IN MADRID. 
 
 199 
 
 fourths of them were ladies and children. 
 The inference was, that the men were at the 
 bull-ring, while the ladies preferred the clear 
 air and the bright sun of the beautiful gardens 
 which abound in the capital of Spain. 
 
 Certainly there was little of the savage 
 ferocity described by most of the writers on 
 this subject. We have conversed with those 
 who have witnessed bull-fights, even within a 
 dozen years, in which as many as twenty 
 horses were killed on the spot; and we have 
 read of occasions on which double this num- 
 ber were sacrificed. As the success of a 
 funcion depends largely upon the number of 
 horses killed, these were, of course, very 
 brilliant. 
 
 We saw three bulls finished, but not a horse 
 was killed, though one of the half dozen 
 ridden must have died from his injuries. 
 Again, the fiery steeds which appear in pic- 
 tures and in the animated narratives of the 
 national pastime of Spain are not to be found 
 in the ring at the present day. On the 
 contrary, they are jaded old hacks, which have 
 worn out their lives on the omnibuses or 
 public carriages of the city. They are thin 
 in flesh, knock-kneed, and stiff, afflicted with 
 spavins, string-halt, and other diseases. 
 Though the public cry out for the death of 
 the horses, they do not seem to be extensively 
 gratified. 
 
 We were told that the horses were supplied 
 by contract with an individual or a company, 
 who like some of the rings in our own 
 country bargain to cheat the people out of 
 what they pay for. The less the number of 
 horses destroyed, the greater are the gains of 
 the contractor ; and he contrives to have an 
 understanding with the operators in the ring 
 to save as many animals as possible, which 
 they can do to the extent the temper of the 
 audience will permit, by a skilful use of their 
 banners in diverting the attention of the bull. 
 We were also informed that, in case the 
 contractor's horses provided for a given occa-. 
 sion should come short of the number re- 
 quired, he has unlimited power to take a 
 further supply from the cabs, carts, and omni- 
 buses on the streets, as the military may 
 take the produce of the country, in time of 
 war, from friend or foe. Of course, if the 
 people are gathered to see horses mangled 
 and slaughtered, they must not be disappoint- 
 ed because the contractor has under-estimated 
 the ferocity of the bull! Horses must be 
 killed, even if hacks and omnibuses are stopped 
 in the streets to obtain the victims. 
 
 For a week preceding the last Sunday in 
 
 October, 1870, the streets of Madrid were 
 placarded with immense yellow posters, with 
 a large and coarse cut of a scene in the bull- 
 ring representing the death of a bull. The 
 bill read as follows : 
 
 'BULL RING. 
 
 (Cut.) 
 On the Afternoon of Sunday. October 30, 1870, 
 
 Will be performed 
 
 (If the iv eather permits}, 
 
 The twentieth Bull-Fight. 
 
 The Last of the Season ! 
 
 For the Benefit of the General Hospital. 
 
 The Ring will be presided over by the proper 
 Authorities. 
 
 The present performance will positively be the 
 last of the season ; for at the end of the current 
 month, the contracts with the bull-fighters 
 are concluded. 
 
 Espada. 
 
 For this reason their Excellencies, the 
 Committee of the Province, desiring to express 
 to the public their profound gratitude for the 
 numerous occasions which have contributed 
 so largely to the relief of the sick poor in the 
 General Hospital, have arranged that this 
 bull-fight shall have all the features of an 
 extraordinary performance; and that, in com- 
 
2OO 
 
 A BULL-FIGHT IN MADRID. 
 
 pliment to the people, and without alteration 
 of the price, will be killed 
 
 EIGHT BULLS 
 from the most celebrated ganaderias (farms 
 where bulls are raised). The committee have 
 arranged that the Ring shall be adorned with 
 splendid hangings; that the whole shall be 
 gala performance; that the bandarillas shall 
 be ornamented with garlands, flowers, feathers, 
 banners and streamers; and, finally, that the 
 bull-fighters have determined to show in their 
 performance, that they are worthy of the 
 appreciation and applause which the public 
 have awarded to them. 
 
 Banderillero. 
 
 The eight bulls will be from the ganaderias 
 following : 
 
 Two bulls from the ganaderia of His Excel- 
 lency, the Duke of Veragua, near Madrid; 
 two from that of Don Vicente Martinez; two 
 from that of His Excellency, Sr. Don Rafael 
 Laffitte ; one from that of Don Antonio Miura ; 
 one from that of Don Joaquin Concha Sierra. 
 
 BULL-FIGHTERS. 
 
 PICADORES. For the first four bulls, Juan, 
 
 Antonio Mondejar and Jose 
 
 Calderon ; and for the last four, 
 
 Ramon Agujetas and Manuel 
 
 Calderon. There will be two 
 
 reserves of picadores should necessity require 
 
 them. 
 
 ESPADAS. Cuyetano Sanz, Francisco Ar- 
 jona, and Reyes, and Salvador 
 Sanchez. 
 
 SUPERNUMERARY ESPADA. Angel Fernandez. 
 The order of entrance of the bulls will be 
 settled in the ring on the day of the exhibition, 
 at half past eleven o'clock. The tickets for 
 the forenoon, at four reales (twenty cents), for 
 sale at eleven o'clock. 
 
 The usual care taken against accidents. As 
 previously announced, no dogs will be used ; 
 but fire banderillas will be substituted for 
 bulls which will not fight at the call of the 
 Authorities. No more bulls than those an- 
 nounced will be provided. 
 
 The prices of all seats will be the same as 
 those of previous exhibitions. All except 
 children at the breast will be required to pur- 
 chase tickets; and the public are notified that 
 no tickets will be exchanged at the office, 
 except in case of postponement; and no 
 checks will be given to go out. Ticket Office, 
 No. 24 Calla de Alcala, will be opened Fridav 
 and Saturday, from 10 A. M. till night, and 
 Sunday from the same hour until 3 P. M. 
 
 Doors open at i o'clock. The performance 
 will commence precisely at 3 o'clock. The 
 Hospital Band will perform at the opening, and 
 during the intervals." 
 
 As this was a gala day, the Calla de Alcala, 
 the street leading from the Puerta del Sol, or 
 principal square of the city, from which radi- 
 ate several of the great avenues of the city, 
 was filled with a crowd of people, most of 
 whom were men. The tickets had been 
 largely taken up by speculators, who were ped- 
 dling them out on the street at about twenty- 
 five per cent, advance, shouting vigorously as 
 they announced their wares. We paid a 
 dollar and a quarter for one of the best seats 
 " in the shade," though the less eligible seats 
 could be bought for a half or a quarter of this 
 price. We reached the Plaza de Toros in 
 good time, and obtained a cushioned seat, 
 near enough to see all the finer points of the 
 national spectacle. The ring was filled with 
 men walking about, chatting, and smoking 
 we never saw a Spaniard who did not smoke. 
 Everything was quiet and orderly; and the 
 audience seemed to be composed of intelligent 
 and respectable people. At a signal made 
 with a flourish of trumpets, a couple of officials 
 dressed in black, and mounted on better horses 
 than the picadores ride, entered the ring, and 
 the people slowly retired from it. The two 
 lorsemen, who are supposed to be soldiers 
 of the civil guard, rode very deliberately across 
 and around the ring, making no demonstra- 
 
A BULL-FIGHT IN MADRID. 
 
 201 
 
 lions of any kind, till the people had all got 
 over the fence and taken their places in the 
 amphitheatre. The seats of the spectators are 
 arranged on inclined planes, so that all of 
 them command a fair view of the scene. Be- 
 tween the arena and the seats of the people 
 is an open space for the use of the bull-fight- 
 ers; though not a few "loafers" invade it. 
 Over the partition which separates this space 
 from the spectators, a rope is extended around 
 the entire circle, to prevent the bull from leap- 
 ing in among them, as he sometimes attempts 
 to do ; for he not unfrequently jumps over the 
 fence into the intervening space. On the 
 partition next to the ring is nailed a ledge of 
 wood, by which the operators are enabled 
 easily to jump over the fence when closely 
 pursued by the bull. There are four entrances 
 with double doors, opening inward to the 
 ring. 
 
 At another flourish of trumpets, one of 
 these entrances is opened, and all who are to 
 take part in thefuncion march into the ring, 
 and pay their respects to the authorities in 
 charge of the performance. Some of these 
 bull-fighters are paid large sums for their 
 services, and are men of great distinction 
 among the people. A bull-fight in Madrid 
 or Seville costs about two thousand dollars. 
 The performers are divided into four classes ; 
 the most important and distinguished of which 
 are, the espadas (from espada, a sword), who 
 kill the bull. They are the masters of their art ; 
 and their photographs are for sale in the 
 principal cities. They are men of great skill 
 and courage, having a decided genius for their 
 business. They come up from the lower class 
 of performers, without necessarily passing 
 through all the regular grades. They are 
 paid from two hundred and fifty to three hun- 
 dred dollars for an afternoon's work ; and two 
 or three of them are employed for each per- 
 formance. 
 
 The second class are the banderilleros, who 
 receive from fifty to seventy-five dollars for a 
 single performance. Their name comes from 
 banderilla, a stick about three feet long, 
 adorned with bright-colored ribbons, in the 
 end of which is a dart with fangs, which 
 spring out when thrust into the shoulders of 
 the bull, so that it cannot be drawn out. 
 
 The third class are the picadores, who receive 
 about one hundred dollars for their services 
 on each occasion. They are regarded as 
 drunkards and " scalliwags," but are paid 
 more than the banderilleros, because they are 
 supposed to incur greater peril at the conflict. 
 
 The fourth class are the c/tulos, who are paid 
 
 from fifteen to twenty dollars. They are men 
 selected for their skill and activity ; for their 
 business is to enrage the bull, and to decoy 
 him from others when they are too closely 
 pressed. 
 
 All the actors of the several classes marched 
 or rode solemnly into the ring, and made their 
 obeisance to "La Autoridad competente." The 
 procession was followed by three mules har- 
 nessed abreast, and gayly decorated with rib- 
 bons. After the performers had paid their re- 
 spects to the " powers that be," all of them 
 retired except a couple of picadores, and sev- 
 eral chulos. The former are mounted on the 
 
 Picador. 
 
 diseased old horses, which are blindfolded, 
 when the fight begins. They are gayly 
 dressed in bright colors, as in the engraving. 
 Their legs seem to be disproportionately large, 
 and very stiff, as though they had all been 
 seized with the gout. They are boarded and 
 stuffed to meet the onslaught of the bull. If 
 the enraged animal should happen to unhorse 
 the picador, he is unable to get up alone, 
 and the other combatants must lift him from 
 the ground and put him on his horse. The 
 chulos are provided with banners of red and 
 yellow, which have the appearance of large 
 mantles. 
 
 At another signal, after the two picadores 
 have stationed themselves on opposite sides 
 
202 
 
 A BULL-FIGHT IN MADRID. 
 
 of the arena, with poised lances, one of them 
 being near the gate by which the bull is to 
 enter, the doors are thrown wide open. El 
 toro has been thorned and vexed, and stirred 
 up to the highest degree of fury in his pen, 
 and in this condition he rushes into the ring, 
 intent upon wreaking his vengeance upon his 
 tormentors, "or any other man." The//ca- 
 dor near him first attracts his attention, and 
 he " goes for him." Dropping his head so 
 that his horns are brought to bear on the ob- 
 ject aimed at, the bull makes a spring at the 
 horse and rider. The picador receives him on 
 his spear, which wounds the animal, and turns 
 him off. If the bull is mad enough, he would 
 mak an end of horse and rider at this point; 
 but a chulo nourishes the banner in his face, 
 and draws him oft*. It is a rule of the game 
 that the stupid brute will always rush upon 
 the red cloth. He goes for that when it is 
 shown, and not for man or horse. 
 
 A Feat of a Chulo. 
 
 Having relieved the f\v$\* picador, the chulo 
 jumps over the fence, and then the bull sees the 
 second picador on the other side. He rushes 
 upon him, and to gratify the audience, he is 
 permitted to gore the horse, which he some- 
 times does so effectually as to kill the steed, 
 and " spill " the rider. But the chulos in the 
 interest of the contractor do not often permit 
 this to be done, but by the adroit use of the 
 banners call off" the bull from his prey. 
 
 In the assault upon the second picador in 
 this fight, the flank of the horse was ripped up, 
 and his entrails protruded, whereat the people 
 yelled their applause. The game with the 
 bull was continued for a few moments by the 
 chulos, who lured him from one part of the 
 ring to another with their banners, often being 
 
 obliged to jump over the fence to escape his 
 horns. 
 
 After this play had continued for a time, 
 a signal with the trumpets brought the bande- 
 rillcros into the ring, armed with the imple- 
 ments of their office. One of them engages 
 the attention of the bull, and when the furious 
 animal comes at him, with his head dropped 
 down so as to transfix him on his horns, he 
 dexterously thrusts the two darts into his 
 shoulders, and escapes as best he may. This 
 is really one of the most daring and skilful 
 feats of the performance, for the bandcrillero, 
 with a dart in each hand, has no banner with 
 which to distract the- attention of the bull. 
 He " faces the music," and if he fails to plant 
 the banderillas in the bull, his chances of 
 escape are small. When he has achieved his 
 difficult feat, the chulos take the bull in hand 
 again, and tease him for a moment more. 
 
 At another signal one of the espadas makes 
 his appearance in the ring. Though the bull 
 may be near him, the man is cool, dignified, 
 and self-possessed. He marches directly to a 
 position in front of the authorities, removes 
 his cap, and declares, in lofty speech, that, 
 "in the name of the good city of Madrid and 
 of the people there assembled, and for the 
 benefit of the General Hospital, he will kill 
 the bull, or be killed in the attempt to do so." 
 This speech is varied at times, and the espada 
 asks permission to kill the bull, and promises 
 to perform his part in a manner which shall 
 do honor to the people of Madrid. Having 
 made his address, he swings his right arm 
 around behind him, tossing his cap over his 
 left shoulder into the amphitheatre among 
 the spectators. With a Toledo blade in one 
 hand, and a small red banner in the other, he 
 begins to discharge the duty he has agreed, 
 with so much flourish, to perform. Attracting 
 the attention of the bull with a red flag, which 
 is the best calculated to excite the resentment 
 of the beast, he frolics with him for a time, 
 displaying the utmost skill and dexterity in 
 warding off an assault. When the " bull 
 makes a dive at him," he springs one side, 
 and doubles on him. No one assists him; 
 but he incurs all the peril by himself. 'When 
 he distinguishes himself, the people not only 
 applaud furiously, but throw their hats into 
 the arena; thus giving a key to the common 
 slang, " Take my hat," when any one has done 
 a big thing. If the feat is emphatically bril- 
 liant, a shower of cigars, and even a few silver 
 pesos mingled with them, will be thrown into 
 the ring. He bows his acknowledgments, and 
 the chulos pick up the gifts and hand them 
 
A BULL-FIGHT IN MADRID. 
 
 203 
 
 over to him. The decisive moment approaches, 
 and he prepares to make an end of the fight. 
 Holding out the banner in his left hand, ex- 
 tended across his breast, the espada approaches 
 his intended victim. The wrathful bull rushes 
 upon the obnoxious color, and, as he drops 
 his head, the espada, reaching over the horns 
 of the animal, plunges the sword deep down 
 between the shoulders, aiming at the heart. 
 Sometimes he kills him instantly, and some- 
 times he fails to do the deadly job. Fair play 
 is one of the elements of the game ; and if the 
 blow is not fatal, the espada must recover his 
 weapon, if he had not already done so, and try 
 again with the same one. We saw a bull 
 stabbed three times before he was killed. He 
 cannot be struck, either, when he is down. 
 
 Espada. 
 
 One of the three we saw killed, leaped over 
 the inner fence after he was stabbed, causing 
 a tremendous commotion among the " loafers " 
 there assembled. He was driven back into 
 the ring, and a second lunge at his heart killed 
 him. Sometimes the bull is^a coward, or, for 
 some reason, will not fight, and is not " game." 
 The bull-fighters have no mercy upon such, 
 and torment him with fireworks, and if he 
 prove obstinately peaceful, hunt him down 
 with dogs. The bull is sure to be killed in the 
 end; there is no immunity from his fate, how- 
 ever courageous or however cowardly he may 
 be. As soon as he drops, a cachetero plunges 
 a short dagger in the spine of the vanquished 
 beast, to make sure that he is dead; the gayly 
 harnessed mule-team is attached to him, and 
 he is dragged ignominiously out of the ring, to 
 be cut up and sold for beef. One gateway is 
 no sooner closed upon the victim of one fight, 
 than another opens for the admission of the 
 second, and the scene is re-enacted with some 
 s! ; ght variations. A chulo, braver and more 
 ambitious than the rest, seeks to distinguish 
 
 himself, and performs some daring feat, such 
 as jumping upon the back of the bull, leaping 
 over him, or seizing him by the horns. Such 
 acts always win applause, and the daring 
 fellow believes he had taken the first step 
 towards being an espada. 
 
 In Toledo, a few days after the bull-fight 
 we have described, we met a beautiful, highly- 
 educated, and refined American lady, the wife 
 of a naval officer, who rather startled us with 
 the information that she had attended this 
 particular corrida. She expressed her opinion 
 in regard to it with a snap of the eye and a 
 vigor of diction which pleased us not a little. 
 Her sympathies were all with the bull, and for 
 the poor old horses. She declared that noth- 
 ing would have pleased her so much as to see 
 one or more of the bull-fighters tossed in the 
 air by the animal. Undoubtedly there is a 
 great deal of skill and science, and even cour- 
 age, displayed by the lidiadorcs, but the bull is 
 overmatched. He has no chance at all. If 
 his nature could be so changed that he would 
 "go for" the men, instead of the red banner, 
 we fancy that bull-fights would soon be out 
 of fashion. 
 
204 
 
 YACHTS AND YACHTING 
 
 YACHTS AND YACHTING. 
 
 BY OLIVER OPTIC. 
 
 OUR boys are marvellously like other 
 boys, and therefore desire to know more 
 about boats and boating. The yachting season 
 has already commenced, and promises to be 
 one of the most interesting and exciting for 
 years. We present to our readers this month 
 a full page engraving of a lively yacht scene, 
 which will doubtless wake up the imagination 
 of our boys. The sloop yacht in the foreground 
 is doing her prettiest, and appears to be log- 
 ging at least ten knots. The picture has a 
 regular salt-water swash, and conveys a capital 
 idea of a first-class yacht, " with a fresh breeze 
 and a white-cap sea." 
 
 Sailing is certainly one of the most exhila- 
 rating sports in the whole catalogue of amuse- 
 ments; and when we consider how kindly 
 full-grown men, even those who have spent 
 half a century of years among the vanities and 
 frivolities of this earth, take to it, we cannot 
 wonder that the younger members of the male 
 persuasion desire to taste its joys. 
 
 But, whatever may be said of its exciting 
 pleasures, sailing is a dangerous amusement 
 for inexperienced persons, be they men or 
 boys. We protest most earnestly against 
 young men, without knowledge, skill, or ex- 
 perience, being trusted, or trusting themselves, 
 to handle a sail-boat. They should have skip- 
 pers to sail their craft, until they have acquired 
 the requisite skill and power to manage the 
 boat. This skill and knowledge apper- 
 tain not only to the boat, but to several other 
 conditions. The boatman should be reason- 
 ably weather-wise, so that he can see when a 
 squall or storm is coming. He should have 
 some idea of the power of big waves, so as 
 not to swamp his craft in the trough of a sea. 
 He ought to learn the *' rules of the road," so 
 as to avoid collision. The eye and the ear 
 should be schooled, so that the former may be 
 tolerably accurate in the measurement of dis- 
 tances, and the latter may give warning of 
 danger in the night or in a fog. Practice, and 
 the companionship of well-trained boatmen, 
 while actually managing a boat, are all that 
 are needed. No taking of lessons, or formal 
 studying of the subject, will enable one to 
 acquire the art; but it will come of itself from 
 natural observation and experience. 
 
 There are some things which maybe learned 
 from books and verbal explanations, but the 
 one thing needful in sailing a boat will not 
 come of reading or listening. We beg that no 
 young man will think he can become a skipper 
 
 by reading this, or any other article, or all 
 that has ever been written on the subject. We 
 can give the names of the various spars, sails, 
 and pieces of rigging in a yacht, and explain 
 the theory of sailing a boat, but we can no 
 more fit a boy to sail a yacht than a four-year- 
 old could be prepared for running a locomotive 
 by showing him the picture of the machine. 
 
 Ordinary yachts are either sloops or 
 schooners, the former having only one mast, 
 the latter two. Both have a bowsprit, but a 
 one-masted boat, without one, the mast 
 stepped well forward, is said to be '* cat- 
 rigged." 
 
 Figure I. represents a sloop. The low- 
 er part is called the hull. The spar set 
 nearly perpendicular is the mast. A schoon- 
 er has two masts, distinguished by the names 
 fore and main; the latter word meaning 
 principal, and not farthest aft. It is al- 
 ways the larger of the two. In ships and 
 barks, having three masts, the middle one 
 is the main-mast, which is the largest and tall- 
 est of the three; and the hindmost is called 
 the mizzen-mast. K is the bowsprit. In the 
 larger schooner yachts another spar, extend- 
 ing still farther forward, and at the end of 
 which another sail is fastened, is called the 
 jib-boom. A rope or chain, running from K. 
 down to the cutwater which is just what the 
 word indicates is called a bob-stay, d e is 
 the boom, generally called the main-boom. 
 g g is the gaff. The end next to the mast is 
 called the throat; the other end, the peak. The 
 upper part of the mast, which is sometimes a 
 separate spar, spliced upon the lower mast, is 
 the top-mast. 
 
 Near the water, r is the rudder; and the 
 stick attached to it above the rail, or highest 
 part of the hull, is the tiller, by which the 
 rudder is turned. In the larger yachts, and 
 even in some small ones, a wheel, either hori- 
 zontal or perpendicular, is used instead of a 
 tiller. The Jielm is a term applied to the 
 whole steering apparatus, whatever it may 
 be. " To take the helm," is to grasp the tiller, 
 wheel, or tiller-ropes ; it is steering the boat, 
 however it may be done. " To carry a weather 
 helm " indicates that the craft has a tendency 
 to throw her head up into the wind, and the 
 tiller must be turned towards the weather side, 
 or side from which the wind comes, to counter- 
 act this tendency. " A lee helm " is just the 
 opposite, and is a dangerous propensity in a 
 yacht. 
 
 Standing rigging consists of shrouds, stays, 
 
 and other parts which are not moved. Run- 
 
 t ning rigging consists of halyards, sheets, and 
 
YACHTS AND YACHTING 
 
 205 
 
 Figure i. 
 
 other parts used in hoisting, lowering, and 
 trimming sails. The rope from G to K is the 
 jib-stay, on which the jib runs up and down. 
 That extending from the top-mast to d, at the 
 outer end of the main-boom, k k, is the top- 
 ping lift, used to hold up the boom. Stays 
 are ropes used to support masts or topmasts. 
 In square-rigged vessels, the fore and aft stays 
 lead from the tops of the masts or topmasts to 
 other masts, or to the bowsprit, and back-stays 
 from the topmasts down to the sides. In 
 small craft any rope used to support the mast 
 is called a stay. In schooners the rope lead- 
 ing from one mast head (not topmast) to the 
 other parallel to the deck is the spring stay. 
 A loose rope under the bowsprit, or under that 
 part of the boom extending beyond the hull, is 
 a foot-rope, for the men stand upon in loos- 
 ing and furling the jib and mainsail. 
 
 The rope attached to the jib at G, by which 
 the sail is hoisted, is the jib-halyard used 
 in the singular or plural. They lead down to 
 the deck on the starboard side; flying-jib hal- 
 yards on the port side. At m are the jib- 
 sheets, usually a pair of them, to trim the sail 
 on either side. The main-sail is hoisted by two 
 sets of halyards. The blocks and rope abaft 
 the mast, above g, are the throat-halyards, 
 which always lead down on the starboard 
 side ; at p are the peak-halyards, which lead 
 down on the port side. The little marks across 
 the mainsail, i, i ; 2, 2; 3. 3, are reef-points. 
 
 A rope is sewed into the edge of the sail all 
 around, called the bolt-rope. At i, 2, and 3, 
 on each side, are cringles, or holes, through 
 which a rope, called a reef-pendent, is passed, 
 in hauling the part of the sail to be reefed 
 down to the boom. The reef-points are short 
 pieces of rope, going through the sail, the ends 
 hanging down on each side. When the main- 
 sail is to be reefed, they are tied under the 
 lower edge of the sail, thus confining a portion 
 of the sail in a roll on the boom. One, two, 
 or three reefs may be taken, as indicated by 
 the figures. When three are taken, the sail is 
 said to be close-reefed. A line of reef-points 
 is shown on the jib, which are seldom used on 
 small craft. In the larger yachts, the part of 
 the jib below the reef-points is often a separate 
 piece, which can be taken off at pleasure, and 
 is called the bonnet. The tackle under the 
 boom near the tiller is the main-sheet, which 
 may be let out till the boom is at right angles 
 with the hull. 
 
 The diagram 8, in Figure II., shows the posi- 
 tions of the boom. In sailing before the wind, 
 the sheet may be let out till the boom is at a 
 or e, on either side. In a schooner, going 
 exactly before the wind, the fore-sail is some- 
 times let out on one side, and the main-sail on 
 the other; she is then "wing and wing." A 
 sloop is wing and wing when the jib is trimmed 
 on one side and the main-sail on the other. 
 When the wind comes from the direction e, or 
 
206 
 
 YACHTS AND YACHTING. 
 
 on the beam, the boom is at b. In 
 
 this position she is said to be on 
 
 the port tack, the wind being on 
 
 the port beam, or to have her port 
 
 tacks aboard. When the wind 
 
 comes from a, the boom is at d, 
 
 and she is on the starboard tack, 
 
 or has her starboard tacks aboard. 
 
 When the boom is at c, or a very 
 
 little angling either way, she is 
 
 close-hauled, or by the wind, and 
 
 is sailing as near as she can in the 
 
 direction from which the wind 
 
 comes. 
 The arrows at the bottom of the 
 
 figure represent the direction of 
 
 the wind : the craft at I is before 
 
 the wind. To bring her into po- 
 sition 2, put the helm to port, and 
 
 haul on the jib and main sheets. 
 
 She is now on the starboard tack, 
 
 going free, with the wind on the 
 
 quarter. To work her into posi- 
 tion 3, with the wind on the beam, 
 
 repeat the same operation. Then, 
 
 to bring her up into the wind, as 
 
 in position 4, port the helm and haul on the 
 main-sheet, till the boom comes from a b to 
 b b. If alone, haul in the jib-sheet after the 
 main-sheet. If the breeze is fresh and the 
 yacht large, it may be necessary to spill the 
 sails, that is, throw the boat's head up into the 
 wind till the sails flap; this will make it easy 
 work, for it is difficult to pull against the whole 
 force of the wind. In positions 2, 3, and 4, 
 putting the helm to the port side is putting it 
 down, that is, away from the wind. In posi- 
 tion 5, starboard is down. 
 
 CAUTION. In positions i, 2, 3, or 4, the 
 helm should never be put to starboard, or up, 
 even in a light wind, for it will gybe the boat, 
 which is a very dangerous manoeuvre, espe- 
 cially for unskilful boatmen. If you wish to 
 go to the westward, it is better to wear entirely 
 around, that is, keep the helm down, or 
 hard a-lee, till the sail shakes; then the boom 
 will go over without danger. 
 
 The boat in position 5 is close-hauled and 
 beating to windward, the line K being her 
 course, though a good yacht will lie up to the 
 wind closer than this line indicates. Her 
 course to the southward ought to be a series 
 of diagonals, like the two in the diagram. At 
 each angle, she tacks. At position 6, the 
 skipper puts the helm down, to starboard, or 
 hard a-lee. The manoeuvre is called " going 
 in sta.ys," or tacking. In a full-manned yacht 
 
 8 
 
 Figure 2. 
 
 the command of the captain is, "Ready 
 about!" or, "Ready to go in stays!" The 
 main-sheet usually slips over on an iron rod, 
 called a traveller, and needs no attention in 
 tacking. When the bowsprit points in the 
 direction from which the wind comes, or a 
 little before, all the sails shake and flap. The 
 momentum acquired while the sails* were still 
 drawing gives her steerage way, and she con- 
 tinues to mind her helm, till, in position 7, the 
 sails begin to draw on the other side. The 
 jib-sheet is not cast off till the sail fills, when 
 the skipper says, " Draw, jib," and the hands 
 forward let off the weather, and haul the lee, 
 sheet. In small yachts, the jib-sheets lead 
 aft, and the skipper may manage them him- 
 self. The manoeuvre is repeated at position 
 4, and the yacht again sails in the direction of 
 the first diagonal. 
 
 In sailing on the wind, or going free, the 
 skipper should sit on the weather side, so that 
 his view ahead may not be obstructed by the 
 sails. A boat going free gives way to one that 
 is by the wind, or close-hauled. If the courses 
 of two yachts by the wind threaten a collision, 
 the one on the port tack must give way to the 
 one on the starboard tack. 
 
 No one but a fool will be careless and reck- 
 less in a sail-boat. There is no honor or glory 
 in fool-hardiness. 
 
LITTLE BUILDERS 
 
 20 9 
 
 THE LITTLE BUILDER. 
 
 LITTLE BUILDERS. 
 I. BEAVERS. 
 
 IV TAN was not the first builder. Long be- 
 *** fore houses, or tents, or huts, were built, 
 long before there were men to need shelter, 
 little animals, of different species, made their 
 ingenious dwellings, as well adapted for their 
 wants as our houses are for our real or fancied 
 necessities and conveniences. 
 
 Long before man built dams across rivers 
 or brooks, beavers, with wonderful ingenu- 
 itj', made their dams, which have remained 
 for generations, until large trees have grown 
 upon them, and they have become permanent; 
 and they have set examples of diligence, per- 
 severance, and care which men might profita- 
 bly imitate. 
 
 In the Northern and Middle States, in 
 marshy localities, or where brooks and small 
 rivers flow, beaver dams or beaver meadows 
 are numerous, but the builders are gone. The 
 gradual "clearing" of the country, and the 
 zeal of the hunters, have driven them north- 
 ward and westward, until now they are very 
 scarce, and even under the shelter of the woods 
 of the Rocky Mountain region they are few in 
 number. 
 
 Beavers are sought for their beautiful fur, 
 and for an odorous and oily brown substance 
 called castoreum, which has a disagreeable 
 smell and a bitter taste, but is highly valued 
 by perfumers and the medical profession. 
 There was a time when a "beaver hat" 'was 
 beaver, and not silk, or some other material; 
 but a genuine "beaver" would be a costly 
 4 
 
 j curiosity in these days, while the imitation 
 I answers every purpose save that of durability. 
 The fur of the beaver is highly valued, and 
 therefore the hunters sought for the intelli- 
 gent, ingenious, and industrious animal with 
 great zeal. But the supply was ere long near- 
 | ly exhausted; and, as is usual in such cases, 
 man's ingenuity came to his aid, and satisfac- 
 tory substitutes were found. Castor, or castor 
 beaver, as applied to a hat, has an origin plain 
 to be seen. It has been said, recently, that the 
 use of material other than fur in the manufac- 
 ture of hats h-as given such a respite to the 
 fiercely-hunted beaver, that they are reset- 
 tling their forsaken haunts, and may again 
 become numerous. 
 
 The beaver is not a particularly handsome 
 animal. Its large head, small eyes, cloven 
 upper lip, long and wide tail, its hind feet, 
 webbed and larger than the fore feet, the muz- 
 zle projecting a little beyond the jaws, these 
 characteristics do not unite in making an ani- 
 mal beautiful to the sight, and only illustrate 
 the fact that character and habits in animals, 
 as well as in men, are not always to be known 
 by external appearance. The beaver's ears are 
 movable, and are not very prominent; and, 
 when the animal dives, he lays them close to 
 his head, and thus prevents the water from 
 entering. 
 
 Many and wonderful stories are told of the 
 habits and the ingenuity of the beaver; but 
 the truth is sufficient, without exaggeration. 
 It is a social animal seems to understand 
 the practical methods and value of " coopera- 
 tion," and exercises a judicious choice in its 
 
210 
 
 LITTLE BUILDERS. 
 
 HAUNTS OF THE BEAVER. 
 
 dwelling-place. The dams which they build 
 are built for a purpose, and mistakes in the 
 " civil engineering " are apparently unknown. 
 Clear rivers and brooks, and sometimes lakes, 
 are chosen for their habitations; and, wher- 
 ever they take possession, they immediately 
 set at work to adapt the place to all their 
 wants. The first and imperative want is a 
 full supply of water at all seasons of the 
 year; for the beaver is amphibious, and makes 
 but a poor piece of work in travelling on the 
 land. With wonderful instinct, as if with the 
 precaution of reason, they build dams for the 
 purpose of raising the water to the desired 
 height, and then on the bank they construct 
 their rude dwellings. As they are night labor- 
 ers, little is known, by actual observation, of 
 their manner of working; but it is easy to 
 judge by examination of the results. At some 
 distance above the place where they design to 
 build the dam, they cut down trees, and let 
 the current bear them down stream towards 
 the situation; and with the branches and 
 trunks, cut according to their wishes or neces- 
 sities, and with mud and stones, they grad- 
 ually make a dam which effectually resists the 
 action of the water. With true engineering 
 skill, the base of the dam is made about ten 
 or twelve feet wide at the bottom, and about 
 two feet wide at the top ; and, as in process of 
 time the stream brings down bushes, and 
 sticks, and mud, &c., which lodge on the 
 dam and become a part of it, the structure 
 gains solidity and strength; and of course 
 vegetation starts upon it, and the roots of 
 bushes and trees crawl down into the mass, 
 
 and hold it tightly in position. When the 
 stream is shallow, and the current slow, the 
 dam is built straight across; but wherever 
 the current is strong, the dam is curved, with 
 the convex side up the stream, so that a 
 stronger resistance shall be made to the 
 rushing water. Man's ingenuity and science 
 cannot improve upon this. 
 
 The teeth of the beaver are wonderful lv 
 fitted for the labor of cutting trees ; they are 
 very strong and very sharp; the jaws are also 
 remarkably strong. One naturalist says thai 
 their teeth are so sharp, and are used with 
 such skill, that a tame beaver has repeatedly 
 been seen to take a potato or an apple in 
 his fore paws, sit upon his hind feet, and 
 merely by pressing the apple against his 
 lower incisors, and dexterously changing its 
 position, to peel it as readily as if done by a 
 human being with a knife. 
 
 In building a dam, the logs are laid hori- 
 zontally, and kept in place by stones and 
 mud. They are generally six or seven inches 
 in diameter, but sometimes have been found 
 as large as eighteen inches through. When 
 it is remembered that dams have been found 
 three hundred feet in length, ten or twelve 
 feet wide at the base, and of a height varying 
 according to the depth of the water, some idea 
 may be had of the patience and perseverance 
 of these model builders. The beaver displays 
 skill in selecting and cutting trees. Having 
 found one in the right place, he sits upright, 
 and with his sharp teeth cuts a groove com- 
 pletely round the trunk, and then widens and 
 deepens it. When the tree is nearly cut off, 
 as seen in the cut, he examines it carefully, 
 and calculates in what direction it is best that 
 it should fall ; he then goes to the opposite 
 side and bites at the thin support until the 
 tree comes crashing down. Then the build- 
 ers cut it into pieces about a yard in length, 
 oil, carry, tumble, or drag them to and into 
 the water, and load them with stones and 
 earth to sink and hold them. They work 
 icartily, and assist each other in the most 
 efficient manner. 
 
 Before placing the logs in proper position, 
 they strip off the bark and 
 tore it away for winter pro 
 vision ; and they also pro- 
 vide an additional supply by 
 taking the small branches, 
 diving with them to the 
 bundations of the dam, and 
 carefully fastening them to 
 he logs. And then, in win- How THE BEAV- 
 ter time, when a fresh sup- ER CUTS A TREE. 
 
1. 1 T T L E 13 U I L D E R S . 
 
 211 
 
 BEAVERS CUTTING LOGS. 
 
 ply of food is wanted, they have it near by 
 ready for use. They are especially fond of 
 willows, poplars, elders, and birch trees. In 
 summer they feed upon fish, fruits, and plants. 
 With their dam securely built, they have a 
 good supply of water, in which they swim, and 
 work, and play, and the closeness of the fur 
 coats they wear, the paddle-like tail, and the 
 webbed feet, come into full use. 
 
 Beavers' houses are rudely built, but are 
 sufficient for all the wants of their occupants, 
 and are used only in winter time. There are 
 no "spare rooms" or "best chambers," no 
 "parlors" and rooms for special occasions; 
 but the houses are always of the suitable size 
 for the number of occupants, usually three or 
 four parents and six or eight young beavers. 
 In building their houses the beaver takes mud 
 from the edge of the bank, and stones and 
 wood, and carries the material between his 
 fore-paws and chin, and placing it where he 
 wants it, turns about and gives it a hard slap 
 with his broad tail. They seem to have no 
 other design than to build a strong and warm 
 structure, and great diligence and care are 
 exercised in accomplishing the task. The 
 partitions in these houses, which some writers 
 speak of, are simply portions of the main 
 building, which the sagacious beaver has left 
 to support the roof, similar to the supports 
 left by underground miners. Late in the au- 
 
 tumn, generally just before frost, the beavers 
 cover their houses with a thick layer of mud; 
 and as this freezes hard, it makes a strong 
 protection against the wolverine, their con- 
 stant enemy. The building operations usually 
 begin the latter part of August, although the 
 material is often collected earlier in the sea- 
 son, and as soon as the interior is finished, all 
 the projecting twigs and branches are cut oft', 
 and packed into the walls, and plastered over, 
 a large stock of food is laid in, with an extra 
 supply under water, as before stated. The 
 houses are so built that- entrance and inter- 
 communication are by water only; and in 
 winter time the hunters strike the ice, in order 
 to ascertain if they are near the underground 
 openings of a beaver's lodge. When satisfied 
 of this, they cut away the ice and close the 
 entrance to the house, and then carefully 
 " sounding" the passage-way, reach the house 
 and capture the inmates. 
 
 The " castoreum," of which we have spoken, 
 is the chief reliance of the beaver-hunter. The 
 animals are strangely attracted by it; and if 
 they smell it, they will sit upright, sniff in all 
 directions to detect its location, and really 
 squeal with excitement. The hunter, taking 
 advantage of this propensity, always carries a 
 supply of castoreum in a tight vessel, and, 
 when he finds a good place for a trap, uses it 
 for bait. The trap is usually laid so as to be a 
 few inches under water, with the bait project- 
 ing a little above the surface. Any beaver 
 which scents the bait will certainly come to 
 it; and young ones are sure to be caught, 
 but old and experienced beavers will often- 
 times not only avoid capture, but render the 
 trap useless. Instead of trying to take the 
 
 HOMES OF THE BEAVER. 
 
212 
 
 LITTLE BUILDERS. 
 
 KWASIND. 
 
 bait, they will pile mud and stones upon the 
 trap until quite a hillock is made, deposit 
 some castoreum of their own, and depart in 
 peace. This curious substance, by the way, 
 is secreted in two sacs near the roots of the 
 tail. 
 
 There are idlers among beavers as among 
 men; these do not dwell in houses, nor do 
 they build dams, but burrow like common 
 water-rats. They are always males, and sev- 
 eral of them live together and keep a genuine 
 " bachelors' hall." 
 
 The wolverine, commonly called the glut- 
 ton, is, next to man, the beaver's enemy. He 
 is a courageous, obstinate, and cunning ani- 
 mal, and as troublesome to hunters, by his 
 tricks, as to the beavers. He resembles some- 
 what a young bear, is of a brownish color, 
 and is regarded as a link between the badger 
 and the polecat, and resembles somewhat a 
 shaggy, brown dog. As wonderful stories are 
 told of his cunning as of the intelligence and 
 industry of the beaver. 
 
 Longfellow, in his " Song of Hiawatha," 
 makes frequent allusion to the beaver; and 
 the accompanying picture illustrates an inci- 
 dent in the sixth division of that poem, which 
 is thus described : 
 
 " Once as down that foaming river, 
 Down the rapids of Pauwating, 
 Kwasind sailed with his companions, 
 In the stream he saw a beaver, 
 Saw Ahmeek, the King of Beavers, 
 Struggling with the rushing currents, 
 Rising, sinking in the water. 
 
 "Without speaking, without pausing, 
 Kwasind leaped into the river, 
 Plunged beneath the bubbling surface, 
 Through the whirlpools chased the beaver, 
 Followed him among the islands, 
 Staid so long beneath the water, 
 That his terrified companions 
 Cried, ' Alas ! good by to Kwasind ! 
 We shall never more see Kwasind 1 
 But he reappeared triumphant, 
 And upon his shining shoulders 
 Brought the beaver, dead and dripping, 
 Brought the King of all the Beavers. 
 
 " And these two, as I have told you, 
 Were the friends of Hiawatha, 
 Chibiabos, the musician, 
 And the very strong man, Kwasind. 
 Long they lived in peace together, 
 Spake with naked hearts together, 
 Pondering much and much contriving 
 How the tribes of men might prosper." 
 
 And further on in the poem, in the seven- 
 teenth division, is a story of the beaver, which 
 is too long to be copied here, but which we 
 recommend our young friends to read. 
 
LITTLE BUILDERS. 
 
 213 
 
 LITTLE BUILDERS. 
 < II. TERMITES. 
 
 LET us suppose ourselves to be resting in 
 a South African plain, under the shadow | 
 of some sheltering rock, or lofty palm. You j 
 look around in weariness of spirit; when sud- 
 denly your attention is attracted by a row of 
 columns standing clear and distinct against 
 the horizon, like the dwarf pillars of a pygmy 
 temple. 
 
 Approach these apparent columns, these 
 seeming relics of a Lilliputian palace, and to 
 your surprise you discover that they " are not 
 what they seem ; " that neither axe nor chisel 
 has ever wrought upon them ; that never were 
 they designed or executed by man. To your 
 astonishment, you find them to have been 
 reared under the hot African sun by a nation 
 of insects a nation well entitled to share 
 with the beavers and other claimants the honor 
 of having been among the first builders. Yes ; 
 you are standing in wonder before the work 
 of the so-called white ants, the terrible ter- 
 mites ! 
 
 Although the beaver is a wonderful little 
 builder, the termites are more artistic archi- 
 tects, and produce an edifice more pictu- 
 resque and ornamental, as well as much 
 larger and more imposing. These insects 
 are not properly ants, though in their habits 
 they closely resemble them, and are seldom 
 found except within the tropics. A portion 
 of them are provided with wings, though 
 they use them only once. Like the ants, 
 they are very industrious, and achieve the 
 most astonishing results by their labors, so 
 ingenious as to seem more like- the work of 
 intellect than mere instinct. 
 
 Like the bees they are divided into three 
 classes males, females, and neuters, or work- 
 ers. They live together in communities, which 
 appear to be as well-ordered as any society of 
 men. They are exceedingly destructive to 
 wood-work, and are a pest to mankind, though 
 they have their uses in the economy of nature, 
 one of which is to serve as food for birds, 
 reptiles, and other ants. The most notable 
 species is the termes bellicostts, which is the 
 largest and most destructive of its kind. 
 These insects are also the most distinguished 
 as builders, and sometimes erect houses six- 
 teen or seventeen feet high, and about the 
 same in diameter at the base. These edifices 
 are built of clay, tempered by some myste- 
 rious chemical process in the jaws of the in- 
 
 HOME OF THE TERMITES. 
 
 sect, and are nearly as firm and hard as the 
 solid granite. They are so strong that, though 
 honeycombed with galleries, and filled with 
 chambers, they will support the weight of an 
 African buffalo, which often climbs upon it in 
 order to examine the distant plain, to detect 
 the approach of the lion or other savage beast 
 of prey. Beneath the conic structure there are 
 subterranean excavations, full of wells, cham- 
 bers, and galleries, quite as wonderful as those 
 in the house itself. The builders of these re- 
 markable abodes are only one fifth of an inch 
 in length, and, compared with the size of the 
 insects, they are infinitely more grand and im- 
 posing than any structure erected byiman, not 
 excepting the pyramids. 
 
 Every termite community is founded by a 
 king and queen, which take their flight from 
 some other establishment; and they seem to 
 be provided with wings solely for this single 
 journey of their lifetime, for they never use 
 them on any other occasion. As soon as they 
 are perfectly matured in the parent home, 
 they take their flight, usually at the begin- 
 ning of the rainy season. Though several 
 thousand of them may start, only a few, per- 
 haps not more than one pair in a thousand, 
 will survive the journey, for their wings are 
 exceedingly fragile. A single pair of them, 
 overcoming the perils of the flight, takes to 
 the earth at a point to which their instinct 
 conducts them, and being of a royal race, 
 they immediately receive the homage of the 
 inferior order of their species, which at this 
 period are on the lookout for " the powers 
 that be." 
 
 The termites present some remarkable pecu- 
 liarities in their development from the larvse, 
 
2I 4 
 
 LITTLE BUILDERS. 
 
 or eggs. Only a small proportion of them at- 
 tain to the dignity of the perfect insect; and 
 these, having wings, are the kings and queens, 
 whose purpose of existence is to found new 
 colonies. The males which do not attain to 
 this perfect state of being are the soldiers, as 
 they are called, distinguished by their im- 
 mense heads and strong jaws. The females 
 which are not perfectly developed are the 
 workers. As under safe governments of the 
 human race, where prudence tolerates only a 
 small number of soldiers, because they are 
 dangerous to the liberties of the people, na- 
 ture has adjusted the proportion in the wisest 
 and most secure manner, providing only about 
 one soldier to every hundred workers. 
 
 As soon as the royal pair have alighted at 
 their destination, the workers surround them, 
 and actually take possession of them accord- 
 ing to their mode of rendering homage to the 
 sovereign power, and immediately install them 
 in their new quarters. Their future residence, 
 which it appears is also the royal mausoleum, 
 consists of a chamber, built by the indus- 
 trious insects around their majesties. In this 
 tenement of clay, they are not only the sove- 
 reigns, but the parents of their future subjects. 
 The king and queen lose their wings, and a 
 most remarkable change begins to take place 
 in the latter. While her head, chest, and legs 
 remain in their former condition, the abdomen 
 increases in size, till this organ seems to be 
 all there is of her; in fact the owner becomes 
 as large as a man's finger, and her majesty is 
 utterly unable to move. In this condition she 
 begins to lay her eggs, producing them to the 
 astounding extent of eighty thousand in a 
 single day. 
 
 The parent pair, in their original state, are 
 larger than the workers ; and their chamber is 
 provided with a great number of doors, or 
 openings, which are just large enough to 
 admit the passage of the subjects, but too 
 small for the egress of the king or queen, 
 even if the latter were physically able to 
 move. As fast as she lays her eggs, the 
 workers carry them away from her and de- 
 posit them in the smaller chambers or nurse- 
 ries which are prepared beforehand, and which 
 are reached by the numerous galleries, all of 
 them being connected with a central passage- 
 way. They are small, irregularly-shaped 
 apartments, which, with the galleries and 
 store-houses, fill the entire structure. The 
 royal chamber is nearly on a level with the 
 surface of the ground. It has a vaulted ceil- 
 ing, pierced with round windows, and a 
 smooth, level floor. Around it are the offices, 
 
 NATIVE DESTROYING A HILL. 
 
 if they may be called by such a name, which 
 are vaulted chambers, connected by corridors, 
 and occupied by the attendants of the royal 
 pair. Next to the shell, or walls of the house, 
 are located the store-rooms, providently filled 
 with gums, vegetable juices, and other mate- 
 rials used in the process of building. Above 
 this lower story, supported on pillars two feet 
 high, is the floor on which the nurseries are 
 placed. The partitions between them are 
 made of particles of wood, cemented together 
 with gum. Over these egg depositories is a 
 lofty apartment, occupying the apex of the 
 conic house, and about one third of its entire 
 height. 
 
 The exterior crust of the building is about 
 twenty inches in thickness. As may be seen 
 in- the illustration, it appears to be covered 
 with turrets, or small domes. Several of 
 these formations, much smaller and entirely 
 detached from the principal ones, are de- 
 picted, but the larger ones were formerly of 
 no greater magnitude. Several of these in- 
 ferior mounds were first built, until a group 
 of them was collected. The central one was 
 always kept higher than the others, and all 
 were increased as the demands for additional 
 space required. Then the intelligent insects 
 began to connect them at the base, filling up 
 any openings made in the shell, till the whole 
 were merged into one, with only the summits 
 of the originals to indicate their former sepa- 
 rate state. The interior appears to undergo 
 
LITTLE BUILDERS. 
 
 2I 5 
 
 repeated modifications, until the lodgers there- 
 in are suitably accommodated. 
 
 The eggs are carefully watched over in the 
 chambers till they are hatched, and then the 
 young termites are tenderly nursed till they 
 are able to take care of themselves. The king 
 and queen seem to live lives of inglorious ease, 
 without making any use of their regal power, 
 and the vast community governs itself with- 
 out interference from the ruling powers, all 
 the soldiers and workers performing their 
 various duties without direction or compul- 
 sion. They know how to do everything, and 
 when to do it. It is thought that two or three 
 years are required for the full development of 
 the insect from the egg, though any such 
 statistics must necessarily be rather question- 
 able. In due time, be it long or short, the eggs 
 are hatched, and a new generation of kings 
 and queens appears, attended by the vast 
 swarms of soldiers and workers. Choosing 
 the most unsuitable time in the whole year, as 
 it would appear to our fallible wisdom, the 
 royal termites fly away upon their single life 
 journey, to found a new colony. The vast 
 number that perish in the attempt to do so, 
 proves conclusively that only a few are born 
 to reign, or even to be the parents of one of 
 these stupendous families. 
 
 The humbler myriads in the home of their 
 birth are crowded out by the multiplication of 
 the species, and these in turn are compelled lo 
 look up a royal pair in order to establish a 
 new household. The process is repeated, over 
 and over again, until, if prudent nature did 
 not provide for their extirpation in the fulfil- 
 ment of the ends of their being, all Africa 
 would become but a vast ant-hill. The wing- 
 less ones are much used by the natives, and 
 even by some Europeans, as an article of food, 
 and are eaten roasted like cofYee. 
 
 The workers are always employed, and are 
 exceedingly lively in their movements. As 
 "walkists" they make splendid time. The 
 soldiers, as becomes their profession, are very 
 savage, and their bite is severe and painful, 
 though not dangerous to a healthy person. 
 When they fasten to anything or anybody, 
 they adhere to it with the tenacity of a bull- 
 dog, and will be torn in pieces rather than re- 
 lease their hold. 
 
 The termites, as before observed, are ex- 
 ceedingly destructive, and nothing but iron 
 and stone 5s safe from their ravages. The en- 
 tire wood-work of A house has been known to 
 be rendered useless by tueir attacks in a single 
 season. They work in the dark, and, in the 
 most cunning manner, keep out of sight while i 
 
 they carry on their destructive labors; and 
 often before their presence is suspected they 
 complete their work. With the sharp instru- 
 ment with which nature supplies their jaws 
 they bore through the floor of a house to the 
 leg of a table or chair, up which they tunnel 
 a path for themselves, and actually move all 
 through the wood-work of the article, wasting 
 and destroying as they go, eating to within 
 the thickness of a piece of paper of the exte- 
 rior surface, but never breaking through it. 
 The piece of furniture in this condition seems 
 to be as perfect as ever; but t the slightest 
 application of force, it falls to pieces. This 
 may happen to every article in a room, and 
 each in its turn crumble into dust upon the 
 floor in the presence of the astonished owner. 
 A whole staircase has been known to yield, 
 and almost vanish into thin air, at the first 
 touch of a footstep. A stake in the garden, a 
 plank laid on a bed, and large trees, from 
 the roots to the remotest branches, are rid- 
 dled, even while they show no signs of the 
 destroyer on the surface. A man, accidentally 
 slipping on a staircase, grasped an oak post 
 for support, but buried his hand to the wrist 
 in the tunnelled wood, which the termites had 
 invaded. Some boxes of documents were at- 
 tacked by the insects, which mined a passage 
 to them through the wainscoting of the room. 
 They devoured the papers without regard to 
 their official character, leaving the upper 
 sheets, and the margins of each, so that, on 
 opening the boxes, the files seemed to be in 
 perfect condition, though there was really 
 ." nothing but a shell," a mass of rubbish, in 
 them. 
 
 It will be acknowledged that the termites are 
 excellent workmen and skilful little builders; 
 but we have reason to be thankful that such 
 unscrupulous laborers are not domiciled in 
 our own land. They belong to that class of 
 operatives whose works we prefer to admire at 
 a safe distance. As builders they are worthy 
 of something more than mere admiration, for 
 they teach us an important lesson in the art of 
 building. They build strongly and securely, 
 with but little regard to mere ornament, and 
 we may prudently imitate their example. 
 
ON THE WAR PATH. 
 
 "THEY WERE LYING FLAT UPON THE GROUND, CLOSE TO A FALLEN TREE." Page 220. 
 
 ON THE WAR PATH* son one of the two neighbors I have alluded 
 
 to made a prisoner. The other neighbor's 
 
 BY j. H. w. name was Warner. The Rangers were to the 
 
 westward of Lake George, and had been out 
 for some days on a scouting expedition. They 
 were returning to the main body of the Eng- 
 lish forces, and had encamped at night so near 
 that they could rejoin them by an easy half- 
 day's march. 
 
 Having seen no indication of any foe being 
 near for some time, they relaxed their usual 
 vigilance so much that they remained in camp 
 longer than usual the next morning, that they 
 might amuse and improve themselves by prac- 
 tice in firing at targets. When they finally 
 started, it was in a long, single line, one man 
 following another, in a style called " Indian 
 file." 
 
 The line was so long, that the last men had 
 not shouldered their packs, when a rattling 
 volley was heard from the front, accompanied 
 by the well-known warwhoop, followed 'by 
 a weak, scattering fire from the Rangers. 
 
 Surprised as they were, the Rangers were 
 frightened, and unable to make any effectual 
 resistance; and, instead of standing their 
 ground, they turned and fled, shouting to the 
 others to save themselves, for they were sur- 
 rounded. 
 
 ATY grandfather had two neighbors who 
 *- enlisted with him to serve in Rogers' 
 Rangers, during the old French and Indian 
 war. In those days the neighbors in newly- 
 settled regions were not many, and all who 
 lived within a radius of half a dozen miles 
 were reckoned as such. These two were lo- 
 cated so near to my grandfather's clearing 
 that he was more intimate with them than 
 with some others. They were young men, who 
 had started in life somewhat like himself; and, 
 being similarly situated, and worthy of each 
 other's respect, it was natural that they should 
 have a strong friendship for each other. 
 
 The Rangers, the first summer my grand- 
 father was with them, were a part of the time 
 in the wilderness around Lake George, acting 
 as scouts for the regular army, counteracting 
 the designs of the red allies of the French by 
 craft and cunning equal to their own. They 
 were almost always on detached service, and, 
 of course, met with more peril and adventure 
 than if they had been regular troops. 
 
 My father used to like to tell a story, which 
 grandfather had told to him, of how the Ran- 
 gers were surprised one morning, and Robin- 
 
ON THE WAR PATH. 
 
 217 
 
 At first thought this might seem like mere 
 cowardice ; but a second thought will show that 
 no coward would have enlisted for such a ser- 
 vice as the Rangers were required to perform. 
 These men understood at once just how they 
 were placed; and they were not so anxious for 
 a glorious death as to stand between two fires, 
 to be inevitably shot down and scalped. 
 
 Taking advantage of their carelessness, a 
 large party of Indians had got so near that 
 they had been able to form an ambush almost 
 in sight of the camp, where such a thing would 
 have been least expected. They had placed 
 themselves in a heater form, as my father ex- 
 pressed it; that is, in two lines diverging from 
 a point, somewhat like the letter V; and when 
 the Rangers started, they marched in between 
 these lines, clear up to the point, before the 
 Indians fired upon them. Every Indian was 
 concealed behind a protecting tree; but, be- 
 ing between the two lines, it would have been 
 impossible for the Rangers to have concealed 
 themselves ; and they could only remain to be 
 shot down, or run. And they would have 
 been very foolish, indeed, not to do the last. 
 
 When the men turned back, the Indians fol- 
 lowed them, filling the woods with their wild 
 \vhoops, and swiftly tearing off the scalps of 
 those who had fallen. Rogers, bareheaded, 
 and almost frantic at the sight of his fleeing 
 men, shouted out his commands and entrea- 
 ties that they should make a stand, and re- 
 pulse the pursuing foe. Rushing to the front, 
 he came so near to the enemy that a huge In- 
 dian was tempted to rush forward and grasp 
 him by his belt, uttering in his guttural way 
 as he did so, 
 
 " Big debble, now me got ye ! " 
 
 But he was mistaken, for Rogers's quick 
 knife divided the belt, and, dealing the Indian 
 a thrust as he leapt away from him, he es- 
 caped, and succeeded at last in bringing his 
 men to a stand. 
 
 Two or three of the foremost men in the line 
 had been grasped by the Indians in the same 
 way, and had not been so fortunate in escap- 
 ing; and one of them was Robinson. These 
 men were hurried to the rear of the attacking 
 party, and securely bound ; not with any in- 
 tention of keeping them prisoners very long, 
 but to give the savages an opportunity of test- 
 ing heir endurance by some of their torturous 
 practices before putting them to death. 
 
 Rogers's men were not the ones to be easily 
 beaten in a fair fight; and when they had come 
 to a stand, and were sheltered behind the trees, 
 in Indian fashion, the}' fought for some hours, 
 their bullets telling on every exposed head or 
 
 limb of an Indian that could be seen. Many 
 a red man was stretched in death ; and some 
 of the scouts were also brought low. But the 
 attacking party finally yielded the ground, re- 
 treating from tree to twee so cautiously that 
 their absence could only be known by the 
 slackening fire. 
 
 Strange as it may seem, the Indians man- 
 aged to get away all their dead out of imme- 
 diate, reach of their foe. Even whiie the shots 
 were rattling the fastest, the fallen bodies 
 would be spirited away, as it were, the Ran- 
 gers seeing them sliding along the ground to 
 the rear, drawn, probably, by lines that had 
 been attached to them so stealthily that none 
 had been discovered in the act of approaching 
 or leaving them. 
 
 The Rangers pressed after the retreating 
 Indians till they had driven them some dis- 
 tance, and then turned back to look after those 
 who had fallen. It was then that they learned 
 who and how many were carried away prison- 
 ers. It was not likely that any were absent 
 unless they were prisoners ; and there were 
 four men missing, besides those who were ly- 
 ing upon the ground. Rogers decided at once 
 that the enemy must be pursued, and those 
 men rescued. 
 
 It would not be safe for the Rangers to rush 
 forward as they might have done in an open 
 country, for by so doing they might again ex- 
 pose themselves as they had done in the morn- 
 ing. It was necessary to move cautiously, 
 sending scouts ahead, to make sure of the 
 course the savages had taken, and to prevent 
 being again surprised. Warner and my grand- 
 father were allowed to go ahead, their impa- 
 tience on account of their friend leading them 
 to request it as a favor from their commander. 
 
 It was soon evident that the savages were 
 in haste, probably owing to the near proximity 
 of the main body of the English army. And 
 when this fact had been ascertained beyond a 
 doubt, the whole body of the Rangers moved 
 forward rapidly for a while in pursuit. 
 
 Warner and my grandfather kept in advance, 
 though never getting even a glimpse of the 
 retreating savages. But there was no difficulty 
 in following the broad, fresh trail they made. 
 No doubt the scouts of the enemy were also 
 watching them ; and it occurred to them at 
 last that it was hardly probable that tlu'v 
 would make any halt so long as the pursuit 
 was so close. Perhaps, after all, their pur- 
 pose of overtaking them would be best accom- 
 plished by strategy; and it was decided to 
 relinquish the pursuit apparently. 
 
 Accordingly, the main body of the Rangers 
 
2lS 
 
 ON THE WAR PATH. 
 
 returned a little way, till they found a good 
 camping-ground, where they made prepara- 
 tion as if to pass the night, and began to cook 
 their supper. The scouts, also, made a feint 
 of turning back, but were soon again on the 
 trail, that they might keep informed of the 
 movements of the enemy. 
 
 After dark, the Rangers left their fires burn- 
 ing, and moved silentlj- forward again. The 
 scouts brought them word, after they had been 
 on the march some two hours, that the In- 
 dians had finally halted, apparently to pass 
 the night. My grandfather and Warner had 
 both seen them ; and they were fearful, from 
 the preparation that was going on, that the 
 prisoners would be put to death before the 
 main body of the Rangers could come up with 
 them. They hurried forward, therefore, as 
 fast as they could through the dark forest, 
 guided >y the men who had been before them. 
 
 They had several miles to go before they 
 came in sight of the Indians' fires, which were 
 in a hollow, that prevented their being seen 
 till quite closely approached. Then a halt 
 was made to reconnoitre, and decide in what 
 way they could best attack them. 
 
 By the light of the fires the dusky forms of 
 the Indians could be seen, some of them busied 
 in preparations for the torture of their pris- 
 oners, and some replenishing the fires, while 
 a large party seemed to be engaged in council. 
 At first they thought that all the prisoners 
 were still alive. They could see two of them 
 very plainly, lying bound upon the ground, 
 not far from two small trees, near to which a 
 quantity of brush had been piled, and where 
 several of the Indians were evidently prepar- 
 ing small pitch-pine splints, such as it was 
 their custom to stick in the bodies of the pris 7 
 oners whom they burned at the stake. But in 
 a moment more they were struck with horror ; 
 for, on looking around for the other two pris- 
 oners, they saw them raised above the ground, 
 their outstretched limbs bound to the tops of 
 four strong saplings, which were bent towards 
 them, and under the body of each a brush-fire 
 was blazing, the flames ascending so far as to 
 touch their bodies without fairly enveloping 
 them. It was such a mode of torture as they 
 had never seen or heard, of being practised, 
 and for a moment they were horrified by it. It 
 seemed impossible that the victims could re- 
 main silent while enduring such suffering as 
 those flames must produce, and the quick 
 conclusion was that both were already dead. 
 
 It was hardly more than a minute that they 
 looked upon this scene, yet it was sufficient 
 for them to see and understand it all. An oath 
 
 was on Rogers's lips, and he was about to swear 
 the direst vengeance on those who could per- 
 petrate such cruelty, when, suddenly, the In- 
 dians all sprang to the different fires, scatter- 
 ing and extinguishing them in an instant, 
 and all was buried in darkness. Not a sound 
 was heard in that wide forest, and but for the 
 glimmering sparks and dying brands, that still 
 glowed faintly, it would have seemed as if 
 what they had been looking up*on was some 
 optical illusion, which had been destroyed by 
 a passing breath of air. But as quickly as the 
 scene had disappeared, those men knew that 
 their near presence had been discovered. 
 
 It was a hazardous thing, perhaps; but 
 Rogers at once gave the order for his men to 
 deploy and charge, in the hope of at least res- 
 cuing the two remaining prisoners. His men 
 all carried rifles without baj r onets, and, of 
 course, little more was expected to result from 
 the charge than the scattering of the Indians 
 so suddenly as to prevent their carrying away 
 the prisoners with them ; though in a close 
 encounter the knives which the men carried 
 would be quite as effective, perhaps, as would 
 be the bayonets of regular troops. 
 
 At the word, the men rushed forward, rais- 
 ing such a shout as had never resounded 
 through those woods before. But no note of 
 defiance came in replv ; and when they reached 
 the ground where the Indians had been, they 
 swept over it unopposed, meeting no solitary 
 form. Warner and my grandfather had rushed 
 straight for where they had seen the prisoners ; 
 but when they reached the spot, they, too, 
 were gone ! 
 
 Having passed completely over the ground, 
 and to some distance beyond, Rogers halted 
 his men, not knowing which way to go. The 
 Indians had completely baffled him. In the 
 darkness of the night he could not trace them ; 
 and a light must be procured, at least, to ena- 
 ble him to do so. And a light would serve to 
 expose his men to a lurking foe before it would 
 reveal that foe's hiding-place. It was better, 
 therefore, to remain in darkness till the rising 
 sun should give them an equal chance. Stand- 
 ing there, listening for any sound of those who 
 had disappeared, the dark forest was as silent 
 as though no human being had ever passed 
 beneath its solemn arches. The Indians 
 seemed, indeed, to have vanished by enchant- 
 ment ; and the minds of the men were affected 
 by a sort of fear they had never before expe- 
 rienced. 
 
 But they had no doubt they would find the 
 bodies of the men they had seen roasting over 
 the fires; and they returned noiselessly to 
 
ON THE WAR PATH. 
 
 219 
 
 look for them. Indeed they were there. A 
 smell of burned flesh pervading the air around 
 guided the scouts directly to them ; and the 
 scorched and crisped bodies were cut from the 
 straining saplings that held them, and laid 
 upon the ground. A dying brand was fanned 
 into flame, and held over the pain-distorted 
 faces, to discover who they were. They were 
 hardly recognizable, but neither of them was 
 Robinson's ; and the assurance was some re- 
 lief to my grandfather's mind; for, though 
 he could hardly hope that his friend would 
 escape, so long as he was alive there was a 
 chance that he might; and the slightest chance 
 was better than would be the certainty that he 
 was dead. Nothing could be done except to 
 guard against an attack from the Indians, till 
 daylight should come again ; and, retiring si- 
 lently to a safer place, a circle of guards were 
 stationed, and the others laid themselves down 
 to sleep. 
 
 The silence of the night remained unbroken, 
 except by the occasional cry of some wakeful 
 animal, or the rustling of wind-stirred leaves; 
 and with the dawn of light all the men were 
 on their feet again, inspecting their arms, and 
 making hasty preparation for the renewed 
 pursuit of the savages. The search for their 
 trail showed that they had moved off to the 
 left, or westward, instead of going directly 
 from the approaching foe, as would naturally 
 be supposed. The trail having been found, 
 it was easily followed; and, keeping scouts 
 in advance, to warn the main body of any im- 
 pending danger, they went through the woods 
 at a quick pace, every one being eager to over- 
 take the retreating savages. There was little 
 probability, to be sure, of recovering the pris- 
 oners alive; but every one was eager to get 
 again within rifle-shot of those who had car- 
 ried them away to such cruel torment, that 
 they might at least avenge them. 
 
 They went forward rapidly for several hours ; 
 when, seeing nothing to indicate that they 
 were any nearer to the retreating party than 
 they had been at first, Rogers intimated that 
 the circumstances would not justify any farther 
 pursuit, and ordered a halt, for a short rest, 
 before starting to return. 
 
 The disappointment of some of the men 
 was shown by the remarks they made in their 
 commander's hearing; whereupon Rogers, 
 having remained silent till they had freely 
 expressed their opinions, turned to them, and 
 said that his duty would not allow him to go 
 farther; but if Warner, to whom he now ad- 
 dressed himself directly, from his having 
 expressed his mind the most freely, chose to 
 
 go on alone, and lose his scalp, he might do 
 so. Of course he did not think that Warner 
 would take him at his word ; and he was a 
 little surprised when the bold fellow replied 
 that he felt grateful for the permission given, 
 and that he might be assured he would bring 
 back the prisoners, or the scalps of two full- 
 grown Indians instead. Rogers was not the 
 man to take back what he had said; and, find- 
 ing that Warner was really in earnest, he told 
 him he might select a man to go with him, 
 thinking, probably, that two men would be 
 safer than one in following an enemy. My 
 grandfather was ready to improve this oppor- 
 tunity, being as ready as Warner to continue 
 the pursuit, even alone. 
 
 Accordingly, after having refreshed them- 
 selves, they two continued on the trail, and 
 had gone scarce a hundred yards before they 
 were out of sight of their comrades, who, 
 soon after they had disappeared, turned in the 
 opposite direction, and retraced their steps 
 towards the English fort. 
 
 Warner and my grandfather felt that they 
 were running a great risk; and there can be 
 no doubt but what they thought of the wives 
 who were waiting for them at home, and of 
 the little ones. But Robinson had a waiting 
 wife and little ones also; and they did not 
 forget that his love for them was likely to be 
 as strong as their own love could be for theirs ; 
 and they were resolved to risk their lives in 
 this way for the chance, though small it was, 
 of rescuing him, and enabling him to return 
 home with them. 
 
 The two men went forward swiftly but cau- 
 tiously, in the shade of the overarching trees, 
 seldom speaking to each other ; and when they 
 did, it was always in tones so low that they 
 could have been heard but a few yards from 
 them. They hardly halted more than a mo- 
 ment at a time during the whole afternoon; 
 and the trail they followed grew so fresh to- 
 wards night that they were assured they were 
 overhauling the Indians, and that they could 
 not be very far ahead of them. 
 
 In that dark forest the shades of night were 
 gathering around them even before the sun 
 had set. But when they thought they had 
 seen the last rays of the great luminary for 
 that day, they came suddenly in sight of an 
 opening in the trees before them, and in anoth- 
 er moment stood upon the bank of a shallow 
 stream of water, of some twenty yards in 
 breadth. The stream flowed from the west- 
 ward directly towards them ; but where they 
 struck it its course was turned southward, al- 
 most at a right angle with its previous course. 
 
220 
 
 ON THE WAR PATH. 
 
 It seemed to come down in nearly a straight 
 line from the west, the opening which itmade 
 between the trees enabling them to see the 
 sun, now showering his last golden rays full 
 upon them, just descending behind a range 
 of forest-covered hills. 
 
 Those cheering rays, coming upon them so 
 unexpectedly, at such an hour, inspired them 
 with a belief that they would succeed in sav- 
 ing their friends' life ; and, filled with the sud- 
 den faith, they stood almost indifferent as to 
 whether they were seen by any lurking foe, 
 till the last inspiring ray was quenched by the 
 dark gray hills before them. 
 
 They knew that the Indians would be sure 
 to improve such an opportunity to blind their 
 trail. The water was so shallow that one 
 could wade in it almost anywhere; and a very 
 slight inspection showed that the Indians had 
 entered it at the point where they stood. 
 Whether they had gone up or down was a 
 question they had no means of deciding with- 
 out following; and they were perplexed as to 
 which way they should go. After a 1 little rea- 
 soning, it seemed to them that the Indians 
 would take the course which their pursuers 
 would be most unlikely to follow, if their ob- 
 ject was to escape from them altogether; and 
 as that would be down the stream, they fol- 
 lowed along its bank to the southward. They 
 moved cautiously, looking warily around them 
 at every few yards, for now they were more lia- 
 ble than before to come upon a foe at any mo- 
 ment. For the last hour before they had 
 reached the stream, the trail had been as fresh 
 as if just made ; and if the Indians had gone 
 down it, they were confident they would come 
 upon them encamped not very far below. By 
 the time they had gone a mile, it had got to 
 be so dark that they could not distinguish ob- 
 jects at any great distance, especially among 
 the trees; and they were obliged to move even 
 more cautiously than before. 
 
 They were determined to come up with the 
 savages, if possible, before resting; and they 
 kept on, though the darkness made their way 
 difficult and slow. At last they detected a 
 faint glow of light, deep in the woods to the 
 left; and, after watching it for a moment, they 
 turned their steps in that direction. It was 
 not so far off as they had expected. Suddenly 
 they came in full view of an Indian camp, 
 having ascended a slight ridge that hid it from 
 view, and saw, as on the night before, several 
 fires, with the Indians engaged in various ways 
 around them. 
 
 They looked for the prisoners, and were 
 greatly relieved to see them still alive, sitting 
 
 upright, with their arms bound behind them, 
 and no preparation being made for their tor- 
 ture, that they could discover. They could 
 not account for this, except by supposing that 
 the Indians had decided to reserve their pris- 
 oners for some other purpose, or, perhaps, till 
 they could invent some new manner of torture 
 that they had never yet practised. 
 
 It was a great relief to find that the prison- 
 ers were alive, and, 'apparently, in no immedi- 
 ate danger; and the fact fully confirmed them 
 in the belief that they would finally accom- 
 plish their rescue. To attempt it openly 
 would most certainly insure their own death ; 
 and they could only wait for some favorable 
 opportunity to reach them without being ob- 
 served. It was a fortunate circumstance, prob- 
 ably, that the prisoners sat by themselves, so 
 far from the fires that they were not in their 
 full glare, and on the side nearest to the two 
 scouts. 
 
 Whatever fate was in reserve for the pris- 
 oners, it was quite certain they were not to 
 meet it that night. There were no fires burn- 
 ing except those which the Indians were sit- 
 ting around, and no preparation for any that 
 could be seen. The scouts placed themselves 
 where they would not be likely to be discov- 
 ered, and remained, watching the movements 
 of the Indians. They were lying flat upon 
 the ground, close to the trunk of a fallen tree, 
 with their heads raised above it, and had not 
 been there very long before a solitary Indian 
 a guard, probably, to warn the others of the 
 approach of an enemy came up so noise- 
 lessly that they hardly heard him, and sat 
 down upon the fallen tree, not twenty feet 
 from them. Had they been on the other side 
 of it, he would certainly have discovered them, 
 for he sat with his face towards the fires, upon 
 which he gazed for some time, a little too 
 careless of what might be behind him to make 
 a safe guard. The scouts hugged the log 
 closely, hardly breathing, for fear that he 
 might hear them. Very fortunately, there was 
 no moon shining; and the bright rays of the 
 fires would naturally blind the Indian's ej'es 
 to things that were so immediately in the shad- 
 ow of the log. And so it happened that, after 
 sitting for a time, the Indian got up and moved 
 away as noiselessly as he had come, never 
 seeing them. 
 
 When he had gone, the scouts raised their 
 heads again, and saw the fires burning low, 
 and some of the Indians already stretching 
 themselves out upon the ground, with their 
 feet towards them, to sleep; two or three went 
 away into the darkness, in different directions, 
 
ON THE WAR PATH. 
 
 221 
 
 with their arms in their hands, probably to 
 increase the number of guards around the 
 camp ; and others approached the prisoners, to 
 make them more secure, it was soon evident, 
 for the night. This was done by extending 
 them upon the ground, with a pliant young 
 sapling across the body of each. Four power- 
 ful savages then laid themselves down by the 
 prisoners, upon the ends of the poles, making 
 it impossible for them to attempt to rise with- 
 out its being known. When the prisoners 
 had been thus secured, the fires were replen- 
 ished, so that they would not soon go out, 
 and then all the other Indians that were in 
 sight stretched themselves ^pon the ground 
 around them to sleep. 
 
 Warner and my grandfather were fully sen- 
 sible of their own perilous situation, and they 
 could see little chance of releasing their friends 
 without arousing those who were at their 
 sides. While they watched the sleeping In- 
 dians, and saw the fires burn out and sink 
 to smouldering embers, they consulted togeth- 
 er in whispers as to what they could do. 
 
 There was but one way, and they would 
 have avoided that way had it been possible. 
 It was to creep upon those swarthy men who 
 held the prisoners so securely between them, 
 and plunge their knives into their hearts. They 
 consulted long whether to do it. There was 
 no alternative, except to creep away, beyond 
 the guards, and leave the prisoners to their 
 fate. That was not to be thought of; and they 
 decided to do the first, though they well under- 
 stood that unless their first blows were true, 
 their own lives would pay the forfeit. They 
 could only deal with two at a time; and even 
 a slight rustling might disturb the others, and 
 insure their own death. But they could not 
 forsake their friends, and the attempt was re- 
 solved on. They might be discovered by the 
 guards, but they must venture. 
 
 The fires had burned so low that the light 
 they gave did not greatly endanger them, while 
 it served to show them clearly where the pris- 
 oners were. Hugging the ground closely, with 
 their knives in their hands, they had left 
 their rifles by the side of the log, as being 
 worse than useless at such a time, they 
 drew forward so slowly and cautiously that, 
 even if any wakeful savage had been looking 
 towards them, he would hardly have noticed 
 them. 
 
 They came within reach of their intended 
 victims, each being at the side of one of the 
 Indians who guarded Robinson. Robinson 
 was awake; and when they raised themselves 
 that they might the better deal the fatal blows, 
 
 they saw his eyes turned upon them. Though 
 he recognized them, he remained motionless, 
 understanding their purpose. Their knives 
 were pointed at the lives of the two who were 
 beneath them; and when Warner whispered, 
 "Strike!" they descended, producing only a 
 straightening of the forms and quivering of 
 the muscles of those whom they touched. 
 Without another whisper, they passed to the 
 sides of the others, a few yards distant, and 
 buried their knives in them in the same wav, 
 so silently that the prisoner, who was sleeping 
 between them, did not awake. Bending down, 
 Warner whispered the man's name in his ear, 
 at the same time shaking him gently. In an 
 instant he was aroused, and understood who 
 was near him, and in another the pole that 
 had held him prostrate was removed, his 
 thongs were cut, and he was free. 
 
 Instantly he had dealt the last blow, my 
 grandfather returned to Robinson, and re- 
 leased him. With only a whispered word of 
 acknowledgment by the liberated man, the two 
 crawled away together towards the fallen log. 
 They all reached it safely; and, recovering the 
 rifles, they crawled forward in the darkest 
 depths of the woods, in the same way, till they 
 felt sure they were beyond the Indian out- 
 posts, when they rose to their feet, and hur- 
 ried forward by the same route over which 
 they had come. They had at least half the 
 night before them; and, as the Indians would 
 not be likely to start in pursuit till daylight, 
 if they should pursue at all, of which they 
 had some doubt, they had little fear of being 
 overtaken. 
 
 Whether they were pursued or not, they 
 never knew, for they reached the fort, and re- 
 joined the Rangers, on the second morning 
 after, without having seen any more Indians. 
 And no one congratulated more heartily than 
 did Rogers himself, who ever after entertained 
 a high regard for both Warner and my grand- 
 father, showing it on several occasions by send- 
 ing them on expeditions which he would not 
 willingly intrust to others of his command. 
 
222 
 
 A STORY OF THE OLDEN TIME. 
 
 " MY GRANDFATHER RAISED HIS RIFLE, AND FIRED." Page 222. 
 
 A STOEY OP THE OLDEN TIME. 
 
 BY J. H. W. 
 
 WHEN my grandfather was twenty-one, 
 he married Mary Barnes, who was 
 eighteen. This was a little more than one 
 hundred and twenty years ago. 
 
 Man- was the daughter of Squire Barnes, 
 who lived in Brookfield; and when my grand- 
 father married her, he drew her home a 
 part of the way at least on a hand^sled, 
 over the frozen snow up into tbe wilderness 
 ten miles north, where he had taken up land 
 and built a log house, that he might have for 
 himself and Mary a home. It would have 
 been a lonely, solemn place for one alone ; 
 for there was nothing but a dark, silent forest 
 around, and they were miles from any other 
 settler. But being together, they passed a 
 very pleasant winter, having been married 
 on New Year's; and when spring came, my 
 grandfather had so large a clearing that he 
 was able to begin the cultivation of a little 
 land. 
 
 It was somewhat romantic the way in which 
 they lived; but, after all, there are not many 
 who would prefer to live so. The only neigh- 
 bors they saw much of that first winter were the 
 wild animals that lived in the forest around. 
 
 They did not see them often in the day, 
 though sometimes a fox would stop for a mo- 
 ment to look at them, as he went past in the 
 edge of the still uncut timber. But during 
 the long hours of night they would often hear 
 the voices of these forest neighbors breaking 
 weirdly upon the solemn stillness; though, 
 with strong walls around them, and shutters 
 closed, and a wooden bar across the door, 
 they had no reason to fear them. 
 
 One night, however, they were a little fright- 
 ened. The snows had fallen deep that winter, 
 and had so drifted around the house that upon 
 the back side, where there were no windows, 
 it reached to the low eaves. They were sitting 
 before the fire on the night I have in mind, 
 talking of their future, building little air- 
 castles, as even married folks sometimes will, 
 and were all unmindful of anything but 
 themselves, when, suddenly, they were star- 
 tled by the sound of footsteps, moving cau- 
 tiously upon the roof above them. 
 
 Mary's heart leaped, and my grandfather's 
 voice was instantly hushed. They listened, 
 breathless, and heard those cautious footsteps 
 moving about upon the roof. Who could it 
 be ? Mary's first thought was, Indians ; and 
 she whispered it to my grandfather. "No/' 
 he replied, "it cannot be Indians; they are 
 
THE FASHIONS OF THE OLDEN TIME. 
 
A STORY OF THE OLDEN TIME. 
 
 23 5 
 
 all at peace with us now, and there are none 
 within a long way, except the Nipmucks, and 
 of course we have nothing to fear from them. 
 It cannot be Indians." 
 
 In a moment more there seemed to be two 
 persons moving about upon the roof, and they 
 became bolder, and made more noise. Then 
 my grandfather said he would find out what 
 was there ; and though Mary strove to dis- 
 suade him, he rose and took down his rifle, 
 made sure that it was charged, unbarred the 
 door, opened it, and went out. Though Mary 
 would have prevented him, she would not let 
 him go alone; and, taking up the axe that 
 was lying in a corner, she kept near to him. 
 
 The moon was shining upon the white snow, 
 making it so light that they could see every- 
 
 Leaving home to fight the Indians. 
 
 thing about the house distinctly. Going but 
 a few steps in front of it, they were enabled to 
 see two large wolves, standing with their fore- 
 feet upon the ridge, looking at them as if they 
 wondered who they were. Without a word, 
 or a moment's hesitation, my grandfather 
 raised his rifle, and fired, effectually quieting 
 the curiosity of one of them, and so frighten- 
 ing the other that he suddenly disappeared. 
 
 My grandfather drew down the dead one, 
 and placed him where he would not freeze till 
 morning, as he wished to save his skin; and 
 then they passed the remainderof the night 
 undisturbed. 
 
 Wolves were very common in the forests in 
 those times; and not only wolves, but bears. 
 
 My grandfather had a way of taking these last 
 in pits, which he dug, and covered slightly, so 
 that they would not be noticed ; then formed 
 a triangular enclosure leading to them, and 
 placed a tempting bait so that it could be 
 reached only by going over the pit. But he 
 did not spend much time in this way till he 
 had got his little farm well started, and ha'd 
 cornfields, which the bears used to like to 
 visit. The bears did not trouble him much at 
 first, and he did not mind them much. 
 
 My grandfather had been married but a few 
 years when the French and Indian war broke 
 out; and then, with two or three more young 
 men who had settled within a few miles of 
 him, he enlisted in a company known as 
 Roger's Rangers, and went towards Canada 
 to fight the Indians. It was hard for Mary to 
 part with him, to go on such a dangerous ser- 
 vice, far away into the wilderness, where she 
 could not hear from him for months together ; 
 but she said he might go, and she would take 
 care of the children and of the little farm 
 alone while he was away. They had two chil- 
 dren then, a girl and a boy ; little Alice, the 
 oldest, being about five years of age. 
 
 My grandfather finished the " spring's 
 work" before he went away; that is, he had 
 the corn planted, and all the crops that he in- 
 tended to raise that season fairly started. 
 Mary thought she could attend to the cultiva- 
 tion of them alone, and do the most of the 
 harvesting in the fall. She had a cow, and a 
 horse, or a mare, rather, but a mare is a 
 horse, I suppose, and two nice shotes. She 
 was sure she could take care of these, and hoe 
 and harvest the crops, all but the hay; and a 
 neighbor, who was not going to the war, 
 agreed to do the haying, and assist her in 
 anything she could not accomplish herself. 
 
 So my grandfather kissed Mary and the 
 children, one bright morning, swung his knap- 
 sack upon his back, shouldered his rifle, and 
 took the path through the woods that led to 
 the rendezvous where he was to join the oth- 
 ers who were going with him. Then Mary 
 sat down in her op^n doorway, feeling as if 
 her pleasant home had suddenly become des- 
 olate. Her nearest neighbor, and the one who 
 was going to do the haying, was a mile away, 
 and there were none, except her children, 
 whom she could see, or to whom she could 
 speak, without going that distance. Of course 
 she loved my grandfather very much, or she 
 would never have gone up into the wilderness 
 with him in the way she did; and now that 
 he was gone, she feared that she would never 
 see him again alive, and her heart was verjr 
 
226 
 
 A STORY OF THE OLDEN TIME. 
 
 heavy. But she was not a woman to repine 
 long to sit and weep when it would do no 
 good; and, rising up, she kissed the children 
 in a way she had never kissed them before, 
 and went about her work. 
 
 The summer passed away, and Mary accom- 
 plished all that she had proposed to do. Win- 
 ter came on, but it found her well prepared. 
 The neighbor, Captain Green, had got the hay, 
 assisted her some in harvesting the other 
 crops, killed and packed one of the shotes in 
 her pork barrel, and had cut and drawn to her 
 door a great pile of wood, enough to last her 
 all winter. She had heard from my grand- 
 father several times, and knew that he had 
 been frequently imperilled by skirmishes with 
 the Indians, and once had narrowly escaped 
 being captured by them ; but she did not know 
 when she might expect his return, and thought 
 it probable he might be gone all winter. 
 
 The snows came early, and they soon accu- 
 mulated to a great depth. I think there is no 
 question but that they had more snow in those 
 old times than we have now. Even since I 
 can remember, the snows used to be deeper 
 and remain longer than they do now; at least 
 it seems so to me. But Mary had everything 
 she needed close at hand; and after every 
 storm, Captain Green would come with his ox- 
 team, to break out a road to her house, and 
 learn how she was getting along. 
 
 The cold was severe, also, that winter, and 
 it is probable that the wild animals in the 
 wopds suffered some in consequence. One 
 night, about the last of December, Mary was 
 sitting before her cheerful fire, all alone, the 
 children having been snugly tucked away in 
 their little bed. It must have been past nine 
 o'clock; but how late it was, Mary had no 
 means of knowing. She had no clock; and 
 only when the sun shone could she tell the 
 aour it marked upon the pewter dial that was 
 nailed upon the top of a post before the house. 
 
 Mary sat before the fire that night, not 
 asleep, but dreaming. Perhaps some would 
 say musing, but I call it dreaming; for she 
 was almost unconscious of the thoughts that 
 came and went as she sat motionless, looking 
 into the glowing embers of the sinking fire. 
 Now and then they would flicker up into new 
 flame, and sink again, showing her many 
 shapes and forms, as it were, among which 
 she could see red-coated troops, gray-clothed 
 rangers, and swarthy savages, with the bright- 
 colored blankets, that had been used to buy 
 them over to the enemy, around their shoul- 
 ders. She could see the gleam of muskets, 
 sometimes in long lines, and then in the hands 
 
 of those who were stealthily approaching to 
 ambush some unsuspecting party who were 
 sitting carelessly around their camp-fires. The 
 muskets would rattle, the startled men would 
 spring to their feet, in the midst of a cloud of 
 smoke, which enveloped them so quickly that 
 she could never learn their fate. Such were 
 the things which Mary saw in the dying fire, 
 and which held her entranced, because, among 
 those forms that came and went, she so often 
 recognized my grandfather. 
 
 It may be that she was almost asleep, yet 
 I do not think she was quite, when she was 
 startled by a sound that made her heart leap, 
 and instantly aroused all her drowsy senses. 
 The sound came from the stable ; and it was 
 the voice of the mare, raised in such a cry of 
 terror as she had never heard before. It was 
 one fearful shriek, breaking wildly into the 
 silence of the night, which was the same again 
 as soon as it was uttered. 
 
 Mary sat motionless and almost breathless, 
 waiting a repetition of the fearful sound. A 
 moment passed, and another wild cry of terror 
 raised her, without any conscious effort of her 
 own, to her feet. But she moved no farther, 
 standing as motionless and breathless as be- 
 fore. A third cry soon came ; but Mary could 
 hear no other sound, and she stood still, won- 
 dering what it could be that so frightened her 
 mare,, but fearing to go out to see. 
 
 She stood, irresolute what to do ; but no 
 more sounds came, till perhaps five minutes 
 had passed ; and then the cry was not from 
 Jennie, but from her sow, which she had left 
 at sundown reposing in her sty, a little lean-to 
 structure built against one end of the barn. 
 In a moment her quick mind comprehended 
 the situation. That prolonged squeal it was 
 still piercing the night-air told that some 
 prowler of the forest had been trying to enter 
 the stable, thus frightening the mare ; but, 
 having failed in that, had finally found the 
 warm sty of her sow, and intruded therein, for 
 the purpose, of course, of taking the life of, 
 and satisfying its hunger on, the porcine dame. 
 It was all clear now, and she hesitated no 
 longer what to do. 
 
 The night was dark, for clouds had been 
 gathering, and she had said to herself, when 
 she was doing her chores, that more snow was 
 coming. But, without minding the darkness, 
 she unbarred the door, grasped the axe, and 
 went out, carefully closing the door behind 
 her. The cries of her sow were urgent, and 
 she sped towards the rail enclosure that sur- 
 rounded the sty, over which she clambered, 
 and stood by the low door to enter which 
 
A STORY OF THE OLDEN TIME. 
 
 227' 
 
 wouid imperil her life. She hesitated, and 
 could see no way to help the poor animal, 
 whose calls were growing fainter with every 
 expiring breath. She could at least avenge 
 her death ; and she waited by the low door, 
 with upraised axe, till the forest prowler should 
 appear. 
 
 The cries ceased, and for a time there was a 
 shuffling and " suffling," showing that the ani- 
 mal, whatever it was, was gorging itself upon 
 the body of its victim. At last this ceased, 
 and then a dark form emerged suddenly 
 through the door. The ready axe descended, 
 and the dark form settled and remained at 
 Mary's feet. But another followed, so quickly 
 that she had not time to raise her axe for a 
 second blow before it leaped the fence and was 
 
 " She stood irresolute." 
 
 gone. The}' were wolves, she was sure; but 
 it was so dark that she could not see them 
 plainly. The strength that had supported her 
 seemed almost gone; and, without delaying 
 another moment, she got back over the fence, 
 and returned into the house, dropping the 
 cross-bar into its sockets when she had closed 
 the door, and sunk down by her children's 
 bedside. Then she sought new strength from 
 a Source that never fails ; and having found 
 it, she made her usual preparations, and re- 
 tired for the night. 
 
 The next morning, before daylight had ap- 
 peared, the fire was crackling and blazing 
 upon her hearth, and she was busied in pre- 
 paring her own and the children's breakfast. 
 
 The daylight was longer in coming on account: 
 of the thick clouds; but, as soon as she could* 
 see outside, she went to the scene of the last- 
 night's conflict, and there she saw a large, 
 gaunt wolf, lying stark and stiff, just as he 
 had fallen by her axe. Looking within the- 
 sty, she saw her sow, also stiff and cold, but 
 not so badly mangled as she had expected. If 
 she could but get Captain Green and his man 
 to come over, they could still save the greater 
 part of it, and her loss would not be so great p 
 and, though a storm was threatening, she re- 
 solved to start for his house as soon as she- 
 should have cared for her other animals, and! 
 given the children their breakfast. 
 
 She seldom left the children alone longer 
 than it was necessary for her to be engaged 
 'at the barn; but Alice was old enough, she 
 thought, to be safely left in charge of Benny- 
 till she could go to her neighbor's and return ;. 
 and she set out as early as possible, not ex- 
 pecting to be away more than two hours at 
 the longest. An hour would have been suffi- 
 cient, had the walking been good ; but only a 
 sled track had been made through the deep 
 snow, and her progress would be slow and 
 difficult. 
 
 The clouds were white and fleecy, and hang- 
 ing low; and hardly had she left her door, be- 
 fore the snow-flakes began to fall, drifting" 
 before a light wind that was coming from the 
 eastward. She hurried, that she might return 
 before the storm should be very bad; and it 
 was but a few moments till she was out^of 
 sight of her house, the snow-flakes coming- 
 thicker and thicker, and the wind rapidly in- 
 creasing in force. The walking was hard, and 
 the falling snow, drifting across and settling- 
 into the track, was making it continually 
 harder. But she hurried forward, till she was 
 finally compelled to stop for a moment through 
 sheer exhaustion. Then she realized more 
 clearly how fast the storm was increasing. 
 The air was so filled with the driving snow, 
 that she could see nothing beyond a few yards 
 from her, and the track had filled so fast 
 that it was hardly distinguishable. Turning 
 to look towards home, from which direction 
 the storm came, she was so blinded by it that 
 she could see nothing clearly, and she was 
 frightened. 
 
 Then Mary would have returned ; but she 
 was sure she had gone more than two thirds 
 of the distance, and it would be easier to reach 
 Captain Green's than to go back. She doubt- 
 ed whether she could find her way back; for, 
 as I have said, she was blinded when she faced 
 the storm. She could not follow the track, 
 
228 
 
 A STORY OF THE OLDEN TIME. 
 
 "My grandfather pressed Mary in his arms." 
 
 Indeed, there was none that was of any service 
 as a footway now, and she would be as like- 
 ly to go wrong as right. She was frightened, 
 not for herself, but for her children, because 
 she felt that she could not return to them. 
 
 And again she pressed on, increasing the 
 distance that was between her and those little 
 ones to whom she would have so gladly re- 
 turned.. She had not gone far, however, be- 
 fore she was sure she had strayed from the 
 track; she could see it no longer, and she 
 sank so deeply at every step, that she could 
 scarce proceed at all. The storm was contin- 
 ually increasing, and now raged furiously. 
 Almost in despair, Mary stood for a moment 
 in the midst of the blinding snow, with hands 
 upraised and clasped, imploring God. Then, 
 as if strengthened, she again pressed on; but 
 whither, she knew not. 
 
 She was led aright. Struggling forward till 
 she could hardly go farther, she saw at last, 
 not far from her, a dimly defined bank, which 
 proved to be Captain Green's barn. Then she 
 felt safe; but again she implored God for her 
 children. A few struggles more brought her 
 to the door of the house ; but she had hardly 
 strength to open it. When she did, and ap- 
 peared before the captain's family, they were 
 filled with astonishment and alarm. She was 
 like a statue of snow, and for a moment 
 speechless. 
 
 When Mary made her story known, both 
 the captain and his wife tried to assure her 
 that the children would be safe, though they 
 well knew that no human being could reach 
 
 them till the storm should subside. Mary was 
 grateful for their good intentions, but she 
 understood the whole matter as well as they, 
 and felt that she must trust them wholly with 
 Him whom she had already besought. Her 
 hope was, that the storm would so subside 
 that she could return before night; and know- 
 ing that it was almost as impossible for the 
 captain to reach her house as for herself, she 
 sat down to wait. 
 
 The captain was a man of more means than 
 my grandfather possessed, and was an older 
 man, and had a larger family. He had several 
 sons and daughters, and some of them were 
 old enough to be of much assistance, both in 
 the house and out. Besides, he kept a hired 
 man, and he had two yoke of strong oxen in 
 his barn ; but with all these he could not make 
 his way to Mary's house in that storm. 
 
 It was a dark and dreary day for Mary. But 
 for the great blazing fire that was constantly 
 going in the wide chimney, the large family 
 room would have been very gloomy. Even 
 at noon, the darkness outside was like the 
 coming on of night, and through the small 
 window-panes nothing could be seen but the 
 driving, swirling snow. As it drew towards 
 the middle of the daj', Mrs. Green prepared 
 for dinner; first, by hanging upon the great 
 crane over the fire a large iron pot half filled 
 with water. Then she sifted a quantity of 
 Indian meal, as yellow as sands of gold ; and 
 when the water boiled, she called one of the 
 boys to help her; and, while she dropped the 
 meal into the boiling water, a little at a time, 
 
A STORY OF THE OLDEN TIME. 
 
 229 
 
 he stirred it briskly with the wooden ladle. 
 In a few moments the meal was all in and the 
 stirring completed, when the crane was swung 
 out, and the pot lifted off. Then its contents 
 as nice hasty-pudding as ever was eaten 
 were ladled into a great wooden bowl, and 
 placed upon the table, by the side of another 
 that was filled with milk; and, with smaller 
 bowls of wood, or basins of pewter, and spoons 
 of the same material, the family drew around 
 and helped themselves. Mary had no heart 
 to eat; but the captain told her that she could 
 bear trouble better on a full stomach, and 
 urged her to partake. To satisfy him, she 
 made a show of eating, at least; and when 
 dinner was over, she sat again by the window, 
 waiting for the storm to subside. 
 
 But in vain was her waiting; for the hours 
 passed, and the darkness of night was again 
 over the earth, and still the storm raged as 
 furiously as ever. The thick clouds and the 
 driving storm had made it a short and dismal 
 day; yet to Mary it had seemed very long. 
 When night came, and she felt that those little 
 ones, if still alive, must pass it alone, she was 
 in an agony of mind, and she almost doubted 
 whether, after all, God was that kind and 
 protecting P'ather that she had thought him to 
 be. Her good neighbors strove to cheer her, 
 though they must have well known how im- 
 possible the task. If Mary's children had 
 been with her, that fire-lit room would indeed 
 have been a most cheerful one ; for there the 
 family sat encircling the broad hearth on 
 which the logs were blazing and crackling, 
 while the storm could be heard rushing 
 through the yet uncleared forest that covered 
 the hills, and, brushing around the walls of 
 the house, driving the snow through the 
 cracks, and piling it against the window- 
 panes; and anon some intercepted gust would 
 whirl and roar in the wide-mouthed fchimney, 
 puffing out the blaze and the smoke towards 
 those who sat below in the cheerful light of 
 the fire. But all this only increased Mary's 
 misery; for Alice was but five years old, and 
 little Benny only three. If no other accident 
 should happen to them, their fire would go 
 out; and would they not freeze? What if the 
 door should be burst open by the driving 
 wind, and the wolves She could not bear 
 to think of it. But she sat with the family, 
 and tried to appear cheerful. 
 
 The captain's family retired early, as was 
 the custom in those days ; and Mary wore 
 away the long, sleepless hours of night upon 
 a low bed, close up under the roof, where it 
 
 seemed to her as if she could almost feel the 
 snow which she heard swirling overhead. She 
 suffered almost beyond endurance, beseech- 
 ing, doubting, hoping, fearing; sleep there 
 was none for her. 
 
 And it was thus till the midnight hour had 
 passed ; and then, she thanked God, there was 
 a lull. The winds died away, and the roar of 
 the storm over the hills sank to fitful gusts ; 
 then occasional murmurings, and whisperings 
 of stray waifs on the roof overhead and all 
 was still. 
 
 She knew that the storm had passed, and r 
 rising from her bed, she tried to peer out into- 
 the night through the little window that was 
 in the gable close to its head. The'snow al- 
 most covered the panes, yet she could see stars 
 glittering above, and a whitened forest below. 
 She strained her eyes in the direction of her 
 home, but all she could see was the white robe 
 that covered the earth. She wanted to awaken 
 the family, that she might start immediately 
 towards home ; but, restraining her impa- 
 tience, she returned to her bed, and there 
 waited the usual time to rise. 
 
 Hours before the sun appeared, every mem- 
 ber of the family was astir. A path was shov- 
 elled to the barn, the oxen fed, the sled dug; 
 out, and everything made ready to start as 
 soon as breakfast could be prepared and eaten. 
 Before daylight had fairly dawned, the team 
 was hitched up, and the four strong oxen drew 
 the sled, with Mary and the boys with their 
 shovels upon it, slowly through the snow. It 
 was heavy, tedious work, and the team had to 
 stop often to rest; when all but Mary would 
 go ahead with their shovels, to break and 
 loosen the snow. The sun rose above the hills 
 before they had made half the distance; but, 
 just as its rays struck upon them, they were 
 surprised to see a thin column of smoke rising; 
 straight up before them, as if it came from the 
 chimney of Mary's dwelling. Her heart bound- 
 ed ; but whether the smoke meant good or evil r 
 she did not know. The house was not yet in 
 sight, and she was still tortured by suspense. 
 
 They had proceeded but a short distance 
 farther, when the forms of two men were seen 
 struggling through the snow towards them as 
 they crossed a low ridge that hid the house 
 from view. They were more surprised than 
 before, for how was it possible for human be- 
 ings to have arrived there during that storm? 
 Who would be likely to arrive there, unless 
 but Mary dared not hope it was he. 
 
 They pressed on, and the men drew near. 
 One of them was an Indian, and Mary was 
 
230 
 
 A STORY OF THE OLDEN TIME. 
 
 startled by the discovery. But the other was 
 surely a white man; and in a few moments 
 more her heart beat very fast, for she could 
 ihardly be mistaken it was her husband ! 
 
 Struggling on, the two parties came to- 
 gether; and my grandfather pressed Mary in 
 'his arms, and asked her why she had been 
 away from home in such a storm. While the 
 team rested, each explained to the other in a 
 -few words what had brought them there. 
 
 My grandfather's story was, that, on the 
 night before the storm, he had camped, with 
 the Indian who was with him, who was his 
 iast friend through his having once saved his 
 life, but a few miles from home. He had 
 intended to reach home that night, but the 
 now prevented; and, starting as soon as it 
 Avas light the next morning, they had hastened 
 forward as fast as they could on account of 
 the coming storm. They had arrived at the 
 house, almost exhausted, to find Mary gone. 
 The children were frightened at seeing them, 
 
 for Alice did not at once remember her father; 
 and it was some time before he could under- 
 stand that their mother had left them, just as 
 it began to snow, to go to Captain Green's. 
 Why she had gone, they did not know; but, 
 believing that, if she had gone there, she was 
 safe, and knowing from his own experience 
 that she could not return till after the storm, 
 my grandfather did not feel greatly alarmed, 
 but made himself and his friend as comfort- 
 able as possible, well convinced that he would 
 not see her that day. 
 
 Now Mary cared not for the snow, and the 
 joy and gratitude of her heart were so great 
 that she wanted to sink upon her knees at 
 once, and thank the good Father, whom she 
 had almost doubted, but who, she now saw, 
 loved her still. Together they returned, a 
 joyous party; and never was there a happier 
 household than was my grandfather's when 
 the sun again went down, and they were all 
 gathered around the fire in his own home. 
 
 GIRLS IN OLD TIMES. 
 
BAFFLED REVENGE. 
 
 2 3 l 
 
 "THE SILENCE WAS BROKEN BY THE SHARP REPORT OF A RIFLE." Page 233. 
 
 BAPFLED KEVENGE, 
 
 THE "WHITE MAN OUTWITS THE BED. 
 
 BY J. H. W. 
 
 THE neighbor Warner, who had been with 
 my grandfather in the Rangers, lived near 
 the same stream that wound down through 
 the valley past my grandfather's clearing, 
 about three miles distant from him in a straight 
 line, although it was considerably farther by 
 the course of the stream. When I was a boy, 
 and lived at home, on the same farm my grand- 
 father had cleared, several of Warner's de- 
 scendants also lived upon the same place that 
 he had cleared. There was no path I loved 
 to follow so well as that which led down 
 through the pine woods, along the river's 
 bank, towards the Warners', where, for miles, 
 I would see no human being, and where I 
 could well imagine that all remained as it had 
 been a hundred years before. 
 
 Spreading out to the eastward from this riv- 
 er of beloved memory was a broad plain, in 
 the midst of which had stood Warner's dwell- 
 ing, much the same in all respects as had been 
 my grandfather's; both of which, in the time 
 of my boyhood, had been long superseded by 
 more modern structures. 
 
 In the midst of the silent forest, and not far 
 from Warner's house, was a pond, a little, 
 miniature lake, on the shores of which, at 
 the time when he settled there, the sound of 
 the white man's axe had never been heard, A 
 small canoe, concealed by some outgrowing 
 bushes on the shore, when not in use, enabled 
 the settler to land such of the innumerable 
 wild ducks and geese that frequented the lit- 
 tle lake during the migrating season, as his 
 unerring rifle compelled to remain ; and anoth 
 er canoe in the river served the same purpose 
 there. 
 
 There was rare fishing in that river at the 
 time when Warner and my grandfather settled 
 upon it; and it was still good when I was a 
 boy, which was one reason why I loved so well 
 to follow that forest path. 
 
 Warner's deeds while with the Rangers had 
 made his name well known among the wild 
 warriors whom he had so often met in the 
 woods, upon the war-path, and had caused his 
 life to be sought for. Many a sight had been 
 drawn on him, and many a bullet intended for 
 him had just missed its mark, and more than 
 one savage had grappled with him for his life 
 only to lose his own. 
 
 Before the close of the war, and the conse- 
 
232 
 
 BAFFLED REVENGE. 
 
 quent disbandment of the Rangers, he had 
 become aware that he had one mortal enemy 
 among the hostile red men. A friendly Indian 
 had informed him of the fact that a brother 
 of a warrior whom he had slain was seeking 
 for his life; and he knew that he would not be 
 satisfied without it, even though years should 
 intervene before he could accomplish his pur- 
 pose. Warner knew well that an Indian re- 
 quired blood for blood, and that nothing but 
 the life of the one who had taken the life of a 
 relative would satisfy him ; and the knowledge 
 that his life was thus sought by no means 
 added to his peace of mind. So long as the 
 war continued, he was more careful about be- 
 ing away from the Rangers alone ; and when- 
 ever a bullet canle nearer to him than usual, 
 he felt that it had been directed by the aven- 
 ging brother. 
 
 But the war ended, and he returned home 
 uninjured, though not without taking every 
 precaution against being followed, using the 
 most subtle devices he could think of to throw 
 the avenger off his track. 
 
 He believed he had succeeded, for, as I have 
 said, he arrived home safely; and for more 
 than a year nothing occurred to indicate that 
 his 'homeward route had been traced. But 
 early in the second summer, Robinson the 
 man whom he and my grandfather had res- 
 cued from the Indians came to him one day 
 while he was hoeing his corn, and told him 
 that another neighbor, who lived farther away, 
 had met a strange Indian, who had inquired 
 if there was not such a man as he living about 
 there. Mistrusting that his inquiry was made 
 with no good intent, the neighbor had told 
 him that he did not know of such a man; 
 \vhereat the Indian looked a little incredulous, 
 and soon left him. 
 
 The neighbor lived nearer to Robinson than 
 he did to Warner; and when he was sure 
 that the Indian had got so far away that he 
 would not come upon him again, he went 
 directly to Robinson's house, to impart to 
 him his suspicions. Robinson, believing the 
 strange Indian was he who sought to avenge 
 a brother's death, had come directly to put 
 Warner on his guard. 
 
 " Very likely it is he," said Warner, coolly, 
 in reply to Robinson's communication ; " and 
 if he has got so near, he won't be long in 
 finding me. I think, however, he'll let me 
 live a little longer, if I can see him." 
 
 "If he has come so far, he won't be satisfied 
 to go back with anything less than your scalp," 
 remarked Robinson. 
 
 "No; perhaps not; but, as I have no hair 
 
 to spare, I'll have to fix it some other way.' If 
 I can only get a word with him, I think there'll 
 be no trouble. You can trust me to manage 
 that thing, Ben." 
 
 " I don't know. If you see him first, per- 
 haps you can ; but I guess there'll be small 
 chance for that. If his piece should miss fire, 
 or his aim be unsteady, you'll have a chance ; 
 but not much otherwise, I guess." 
 
 " Don't you worry a bit. My chances are a 
 hundred times better here than they were that 
 night I let you up, after the Indians had car- 
 ried you so far away from camp. Just go 
 home, Ben, and make yourself easy ; and if the 
 fellow inquires of you, tell him just where he 
 can find me. That will be the best way now." 
 
 " If he should call on me, I'd shoot him, 
 if I knew it wouldn't be considered murder; 
 but I suppose it would, as it's peace now. He'll 
 have to fire the first shot, or it will be murder, 
 I suppose, even though it's to save a man's 
 life." 
 
 " You're right, Ben ; it won't do to murder 
 even an Indian ; and I hope you won't shoot 
 him if you see him. Just tell him the way as 
 straight as you can, and let him come here. 
 If I can only see him, I think we can get along 
 without any murdering being done by any- 
 body. I hope you'll see him, Ben, and send 
 him here." 
 
 " Well, Royal, you've seen too many Indians 
 to be killed by one now, I guess; and if he 
 comes to me I'll send him along. But I hope, 
 for the sake of them that's in the house, you'll 
 keep a sharp lookout. I wouldn't work too 
 near the woods, if I were you." 
 
 And so saying, Robinson left the bold man 
 at work where he had found him, and returned 
 home. Warner did not leave his work till the 
 usual hour; but he turned many a searching 
 glance towards the woods, which were not far 
 from him, and listened also for any sound that 
 might come from them, as his hoe stopped, 
 and he bent down to pluck the weeds from 
 among the tender blades of corn. 
 
 But he finished his day's work without dis- 
 covering anything of the wily foe he expected, 
 and went home to his supper, meeting his wife 
 and little ones as composedly as if nothing 
 had happened to disturb the usual serenity 
 of his mind. He said nothing to them of Rob- 
 inson's call; and the only thing he did that 
 would indicate that he had it still in mind, was 
 to take down his rifle, and draw out the charge 
 that was in it, which he replaced, with unusual 
 care, by another, scraping the edge of the flint, 
 to make it more certain that, it would strike 
 fire the first time. Then he hung the rifle on 
 
BAFFLED REVENGE. 
 
 2 33 
 
 the pegs where it always rested when not in 
 use, and seemed to have no thought for any- 
 thing but an hour of quiet enjoyment with his 
 little family, and a good night's rest. 
 
 The next morning, before going out, Warner 
 scanned theedgeof the woods carefully through 
 the windows of his cabin, which drew from 
 his observing wife the inquiry, 
 
 " What is it, Royal? Are the bears around 
 again?" 
 
 " There are varmints of some kind, judging 
 from what I saw yesterday; and I want to get 
 a sight at them." 
 
 But without any further explanation, he went 
 out, and began to do his chores, his wife pre- 
 paring breakfast meantime. After breakfast, 
 he shouldered his hoe, and went towards the 
 field, as if to continue his labor there; but just 
 as he reached it, he stopped, and stood for a 
 few moments in a thoughtful attitude, and 
 then turned back towards the house, as if he 
 had decided not to work. Hanging his hoe 
 in the usual place, he entered the house, and 
 took down his rifle, and looked at the priming, 
 and rubbed the flint once more. 
 
 " Is it a bear, or a turkey? " asked his good 
 wife. 
 
 "What if I shouldn't tell you ?" answered 
 Warner, as he turned a tender look towards 
 her. 
 
 " Then I'd kiss you," she exclaimed, laugh- 
 ingly, stepping lightly towards him, and put- 
 ting her arms around his neck and her lips to 
 his face. 
 
 " Then I am sure I will never tell ; " and he 
 .put one arm around her waist, and returned 
 the kiss as fervently as it was given. " Don't 
 be alarmed, Mary; I'll be back soon;" and, 
 without any more words, he left the cabin, 
 going in a direction opposite to his field of 
 corn, which left Mary a little mystified as to 
 what his true purpose was. 
 
 Warner went straight forward, without turn- 
 ing a look in any direction, till he had entered 
 the woods, when he looked about warily, but 
 still kept on. At last he stopped, and seemed 
 to be searching for a spot favorable for some 
 purpose he had in mind. A large decaying 
 log was lying on the ground not far from him, 
 and he went towards it. He seemed to be sat- 
 isfied with it; and putting down his rifle, he 
 took out his knife, and cut oft* three or four 
 of the smallest saplings that grew near. Then 
 taking off his tow frock, he hung it upon a 
 stick, which he drove into the ground close to 
 one side of the log, and placed another short 
 stick within the shoulders of the sleeves, to 
 keep them out about the breadth of his own 
 
 shoulders, arranging it so that the neck of the 
 frock was a few inches above the top of the 
 log. Over this he placed his hat, so as to make 
 it appear to any one approaching as if a man 
 was sitting with his back against the log, his 
 head and shoulders rising just above it. 
 
 Warner seemed satisfied with his work, and 
 after viewing it a moment, he proceeded to 
 cut down some bushes, working with some 
 haste, and with them he erected a screen, such 
 as hunters used to lie in wait behind when 
 calling wild turkeys. He formed the screen 
 directly in front of the frock and cap, so that 
 whoever approached it would naturally sup- 
 pose that a hunter was waiting there, decoy- 
 ing game. 
 
 His arrangements were soon completed ; and 
 then, after looking sharply around among the 
 trunks of the tall trees, he laid himself down 
 beside the log, so that his own body was ef- 
 fectually concealed, and began to utter, at reg- 
 ular intervals, the call used by hunters to en- 
 tice turkeys within rifle-shot. 
 
 Between the calls, Warner listened, to detect 
 any sound that might be made within the si- 
 lent forest, but never moving, or raising his 
 head to look around. At last he heard an 
 answer to his decoying notes, coming faintly 
 from the quarter opposite to that from which 
 he had approached the log; and immediately 
 he repeated his call. An answer came back 
 to every call he made ; and as each successive 
 reply seemed nearer than the last, he was sure 
 that some solitary bird was being enticed to- 
 wards him. Now his calls were less frequent, 
 and between them he listened anxiously foi 
 any other sounds. He put up a stick which 
 he held in his hand, and moved the hat and 
 frock slightly several times, straining his senst 
 of hearing always to the utmost. 
 
 Suddenly there was a sound like the snap- 
 ping of a dry stick broken by being trod upon. 
 It was but a slight sound, but he could not be 
 mistaken, and Warner's face showed a look 
 of satisfaction, probably because the sound 
 came from beyond the opposite side of the 
 log. He quickly jogged the hat and frock 
 again, repeating his call, and making a rus- 
 tling noise with his limbs at the same time. 
 Then for a moment he kept perfectly still, and 
 was almost certain he could detect the soft, 
 stealthy tread of moccasoned feet upon the 
 leaves. 
 
 He moved the hat again, raising it slightly, 
 and in an instant a bullet whistled through 
 it, and the silence was broken by the sharp 
 report of a rifle. Bending the stick that held 
 the frock and hat quickly forward, till they 
 
234 
 
 BAFFLED REVENGE. 
 
 were below the top of the log, he waited still 
 a moment more, and then heard the quick 
 tread of some one approaching. Springing 
 to his feet, he confronted his mortal foe, the 
 Indian who had been so long in pursuit of 
 his life. 
 
 In an instant his rifle was at his shoulder, 
 and the Indian, already within twenty yards 
 of him, stopped, statue-like, uttering the single 
 exclamation, 
 
 " Me dead man ! " 
 
 He might have seen the flash that leaped 
 from the dark tube before him, but he could 
 hardly have heard the report which followed 
 it. He seemed to rise, without any effort of 
 his own, clear of the ground, and then he fell 
 forward at full length upon it. 
 
 Warner coolly wiped out the barrel of his 
 rifle, re-charged it, and then approached his 
 prostrate foe. He lay upon his face ; but 
 turning him over, he saw that he was indeed 
 a dead man. The Indian had sought so dili- 
 gently and so long only to be foiled by the 
 object of his search in this manner. The 
 white man's cunning had more than equalled 
 the red man's; and the result of the Indian's 
 long journey was, that his own spirit had 
 been sent by his intended victim to join that 
 of the dead brother in the happy hunting- 
 grounds. 
 
 " He brought it upon himself; he fired the 
 first shot, and it is no murder," Warner said 
 to himself, as he stood thoughtfully over the 
 body. " But now he must be disposed of." 
 
 The pond I have mentioned was not far off; 
 and taking the body by the shoulders, Warner 
 drew it thither. Then he managed to bind 
 some heavy stones to it, and to place it in his 
 canoe. Paddling to the centre of the pond, 
 and dropping it overboard, it sank beneath 
 the placid waters, to trouble him no more. 
 
 " Now," thought he, as he returned to the 
 shore, " I hope the war is over." 
 
 Going back to his decoy, he destroyed 
 every sign of it, and picking up the Indian's 
 rifle, he carried it to the edge of the pond, and 
 cast it from him far into the water. Then he 
 turned towards home, and soon appeared be- 
 fore his waiting wife, seemingly as calm and 
 undisturbed as if he had only returned from 
 a morning's hunt. 
 
 " Ah ! " she exclaimed, good-naturedly, as 
 he came in empty-handed, " some one else has 
 carried away the game, then. I heard two 
 shots, and knew that you could not have fired 
 them both, because they were so near togeth- 
 er. Whom did you meet, Royal ? " 
 
 "I don't know his name; he don't belong 
 in this settlement," said Warner, evasively. 
 
 "Why didn't he come home with you? If 
 he is a stranger, we might have given him a 
 dinner, at least." 
 
 " He had a long journey before him, and 
 could not tarry. He is far from here by this 
 time." 
 
 " He did not carry away the game, then. 
 Why have you left it behind? I thought you 
 had gone for a turkey." 
 
 " I might have brought one, if it had not 
 been for him; but he fired first, and only 
 frightened the bird, so that it escaped alto- 
 gether. I'll bring you a turkey to-morrow, 
 Mary." 
 
 And thus was the good wife's curiosity sat- 
 isfied: and towards all of his neighbors War- 
 ner was equally reticent for many years; but 
 finally, as he and my grandfather grew old 
 together, he one day told how he had baffled 
 his enemy, as they two sat together upon the 
 shore of the pond where he had buried him, 
 talking, as they sometimes loved to do, of the 
 daring exploits and wild adventures of their 
 younger days. 
 
THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL. 
 
 235 
 
 THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL, 
 
 BY T. W. HIGGINSON. 
 
 [AN EXTRACT FROM THE YOUNG FOLKS* HISTORY OF THE 
 UNITED STATES.] 
 
 SAMUEL ADAMS, when he heard the guns 
 at Lexington, exclaimed, " O, what a glo- 
 rious morning is this ! " for he knew that the 
 contest would end in the freedom of the colo- 
 nies. President Jefferson said afterwards, 
 
 " Before the I9th of April, 1775, I never had 
 heard a whisper of a disposition to separate 
 from Great Britafn." 
 
 The Massachusetts committee of safety at 
 once sent out addresses to the different towns, 
 and to the other New England colonies, asking 
 them to send troops to the neigh- 
 borhood of Boston. Before long 
 there were some fifteen thou- 
 sand men collected, under a va- 
 riety of independent command- 
 ers. General Ward commanded 
 those from Massachusetts ; Gen- 
 eral Stark, those from New 
 Hampshire ; General Greene, 
 those from Rhode Island ; and 
 Generals Spencer and Putnam, 
 those from Connecticut. The 
 army was not at all disciplined ; 
 it had few cannon, and little 
 ammunition ; the men came and 
 went very much as they wished. 
 But they were strong enough to 
 keep the British army of five 
 thousand shut up in Boston ; 
 and General Gage sent most 
 of the families of the patriotic party out 
 of town, so that there was very little inter- 
 course between those within and those with- 
 out. 
 
 It was found that there were two ranges of 
 hills that commanded Boston on two sides 
 Dorchester Heights on the south, and Bunker 
 Hill and Breed's Hill on the north-west. It 
 was of importance to both sides to get the 
 control of these hills ; and the Americans had 
 reason to know that General Gage was planning 
 to extend his lines, and include Bunker Hill. 
 So a force of a thousand men was sent, one 
 night, under command of Colonel Prescott, 
 to erect some earthworks for its protection. 
 His men were mostly farmers : they had no 
 uniforms, and carried fowling-pieces without 
 bayonets. They formed on Cambridge Com- 
 mon, and, after a prayer by the president of 
 Harvard College, marched, at nine P. M., June 
 
 16, 1775. They marched so silently that they 
 were not heard ; and the bells of Boston had 
 struck twelve before they turned a sod. It was 
 finally decided to fortify Breed's Hill, as be- 
 ing nearer to Boston, instead of Bunker Hill. 
 The work was soon begun. As they worked, 
 they could hear the sentinels from the British 
 men-of-war cry, " All's well ! " As day dawned, 
 the newly-made earthworks were seen from 
 the ships, which began to fire on them, as did 
 a battery in Boston. But the Americans went 
 on completing their fortifications. General 
 Gage with his telescope watched Colonel Pres- 
 cott as he moved about the works. 
 
 "Will he fight?" asked he. 
 
 "To the last drop of his blood," said an 
 American loyalist who stood near. 
 
 Soon the British general made up his mind 
 
 to lose no time, but to attack the works that 
 day. 
 
 It was now the i7th of June. The day was 
 intensely hot. Three thousand British sol- 
 diers were embarked in boats, and sent across 
 to Charlestown. Prescott placed his men, as 
 he best could, behind the half-finished mounds ; 
 and a detachment was stationed at a rail fence, 
 on the edge of Bunker Hill, to keep the British 
 troops from flanking the redoubt. This rail- 
 fence was afterwards filled in with new-mown 
 hay, to screen better those behind it. Without 
 food, without water, and with very little am- 
 munition, the Americans awaited their oppo- 
 nents. There were from two to three thou- 
 sand behind the breastworks, and four thousand 
 British to attack them; and the Americans 
 were almost without drill or discipline, while 
 the British troops were veteran regiments. 
 On the other hand, the British were obliged 
 
THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL. 
 
 to advance in open field, while the Americans 
 were behind their earthworks a far safer 
 position. There they waited as quietly as they 
 could, while Putnam, Prescott, and others 
 moved about among them, saying, " Aim 
 low." "Wait till you can see the whites of 
 their eyes." 
 
 The British soldiers marched forward slow- 
 ly, for they were oppressed with the heat, and 
 were burdened with their knapsacks of provis- 
 ions. But they marched with great regularity, 
 and entire confidence. They fired as they went; 
 but only a few scattering shots were fired in 
 return. On, on they came, till they were 
 within some ten rods of the redoubt. Then 
 the word " Fire ! " was given ; and when the 
 smoke cleared away, the ground was strewed 
 with the British soldiers, and the survivors 
 had already begun to retreat. A great cheer 
 went up from the forts, and the shout was 
 echoed from the rail fence. The Americans 
 behind the fence were next attacked by the 
 right wing of the British. The Americans 
 withheld their fire till the last moment; and 
 three fourths of the advancing soldiers fell, 
 and the rest faltered. Twice the British ad- 
 vanced, and twice they were driven backwards, 
 while very few of the Americans were hurt. 
 Then a third attack was made upon the main 
 fort. The British officers were seen threaten- 
 ing the soldiers, and even striking and prick- 
 ing them, to make them advance ; but they 
 were very unwilling. Putnam passed round 
 the ranks, telling his men that, if the British 
 were once more driven back, they could not 
 rally again; and his men shouted, "We are 
 ready for the red-coats again." 
 
 But Putnam knew that their powder was al- 
 most gone, and told them to reserve their fire 
 till the British were within twenty yards. Once 
 more they awaited the assailants, who now 
 advanced with fixed bayonets, without firing, 
 and under the protection of batteries of artil- 
 lery. Most of the Americans had but one 
 round of ammunition left, and few had more 
 than three. Scarcely any had bayonets. Their 
 last shots were soon fired ; and there was noth- 
 ing for them but to retreat as they best could. 
 They fell back slowly, one by one, losing far 
 more men in the retreat than in the battle. 
 Among their losses was the brave General 
 Warren, eminent as a physician and as a pa- 
 triot. ' He was president of the Provincial 
 Congress, and was there only as a volunteer, 
 not in command. The British general, Howe, 
 on hearing of his death, said that it was equal 
 to the loss of five hundred men to the Amer- 
 icans. 
 
 The battle of Bunker Hill was of the great- 
 
 est importance to the colonies. First, it set- 
 tled the question that there was to be a war, 
 which many people had not before believed. 
 Secondly, it showed that inexperienced Amer- 
 ican soldiers could resist regular troops. It is 
 said that when Washington heard of it, he 
 only asked, "Did the militia stand fire?" 
 And when he was told that they did, and that 
 they reserved their own till their opponents 
 were within eight rods, he said, " The liberties 
 of the country are safe." 
 
 The battle was not claimed as a victory by 
 the Americans ; and yet it roused their enthu- 
 siasm very much. The ranks of the Conti- 
 nental army were filled up, and the troops were 
 in high spirits. On the other hand, the great- 
 est surprise was felt in England at the courage 
 shown by the Americans in this contest, and 
 the great number of killed and wounded among 
 the British troops. By the official accounts, 
 the British loss in killed and wounded was 
 more than a thousand (1054), including an 
 unusually large proportion of officers, being 
 one in four of the whole force engaged. The 
 American loss was less than half as many 
 not more than four hundred and fifty. People 
 in England complained that none of their 
 regiments had ever returned so diminished in 
 numbers from any battle. One came back, for 
 instance, with only twenty-five men. And it 
 was said that " no history could produce a par- 
 allel " to the courage shown by the British 
 in advancing beneath such a murderous fire. 
 " So large a proportion of a detachment," it 
 was said, " was never killed or wounded in 
 Germany," where the British armies had lately 
 been engaged. 
 
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VIENNA. 
 
 239 
 
 THE GRAND OPERA HOUSE. 
 
 VIENNA, 
 
 BY MARY GRANGER CHASE. 
 
 THE Austrian capital has been pronounced 
 the least part of itself, for almost any one 
 could walk round the city proper within an 
 hour, and through it in a quarter of an hour. 
 Yet this little spot contains nearly sixty thou- 
 sand inhabitants. It is surrounded by abroad, 
 open green ring, which was the glacis when 
 the town was fortified, and is now laid out with 
 lovely walks and fine acacia and chestnut 
 trees. Beyond this pleasant, grassy prome- 
 nade are the suburbs, four and thirty in num- 
 ber, and comprising ten times as much space 
 as the inner town, though only seven times as 
 many people. 
 
 From the relation of city and suburbs, Vi- 
 enna has been compared to "a diamond sur- 
 
 rounded by thirty-four emeralds," and also to 
 " an ancient dame with her more or less well- 
 grown daughters." 
 
 The old town is the fashionabre quarter. 
 Here are the palaces of the emperor and 
 the principal nobility, the most interesting 
 churches and public buildings, aud splendid 
 shops, with very elaborate and tasteful signs. 
 In the suburbs the streets are broad, well 
 paved, and handsome; but those in the town, 
 though cleanly, are crooked, very narrow, and 
 all run to one centre, like the spokes of a wheel, 
 or the threads of a spider's web ; and as the 
 houses are very high, the city is dark, except- 
 ing just at midday, when the sun does manage 
 to look in. There are no sidewalks, and 
 
240 
 
 VIENNA. 
 
 pedestrians are compelled to keep constant 
 watch over their toes, and sometimes to jump 
 on to the steps of a carriage, to save themselves 
 from being crushed by it. Corner houses have 
 large slanting stones with iron caps, and rings 
 as thick as a man's finger, for vehicles to strike 
 against. It is a custom in Vienna to build 
 houses around court-yards, and let them, in 
 stories or flats, to different families. The 
 average is about forty occupants to a house; 
 but some houses are little towns by themselves, 
 and produce immense sums of rent. There is 
 one which has ten courts, two hundred and 
 twelve dwellings, and twelve hundred inhab- 
 itants. Another has six courts, over thirty 
 staircases, three hundred dwellings, and two 
 thousand inhabitants. 
 
 As one approaches Vienna, before the city 
 itself can be seen at all, the south tower of St. 
 Stephen's Cathedral is discerned. This church 
 stands in the very heart of the old quarter, 
 and is one of the most lovely specimens of 
 Gothic architecture to be found in the world. 
 It dates back to the middle ages, and not only 
 is its exterior exquisitely harmonious, grace- 
 ful, and rich in tracery, curious carving, and 
 monuments, and the doorways very beautiful ; 
 but the height of the ceiling, the soft, dim, re- 
 ligious light, the deep, uniform tint of color- 
 ing, the highly decorated pillars, elaborately 
 wrought pulpit, brilliant old painted glass, 
 and impressive pictures, give to the whole in- 
 terior " the air of a holy museum." The south 
 spire is a most delicate masterpiece of perfo- 
 rated stone, not actually attached to the church, 
 but shooting up beside it from the ground, 
 regularly and gradually diminishing in arches 
 and buttresses, until it reaches the height of 
 over four hundred feet. The Viennese often 
 speak of this graceful pyramid as " Stephen," 
 as though it were a living friend. Mosses grew 
 in profusion in this old tower; and hawks, 
 jackdaws, crows, and spiders have their home- 
 steads here, while of bats, fifty were killed, 
 when some years ago the watchmen in self-de- 
 fence, hunted them to their holes. The roof of 
 the cathedral is covered with colored tiles, which 
 form a double-headed eagle the crest of Aus- 
 tria. This is supposed to be the largest figure 
 of a bird in the world. It is one hundred and 
 eighty feet wide, from the end of one wing to 
 that of the other. Each eye is formed of four 
 gilded tiles, and each beak contains thirty. 
 The view from the summit of the tower is 
 exceedingly grand, taking in not only the busy 
 city and its bright suburbs, and the Danube, 
 but also Napoleon Bonaparte's battle-fields, the 
 Island of Lobau, and the villages of Wagram, 
 
 Aspern, and Essling. A tourist in Vienna, 
 some years ago, said of a lookout from the top 
 of one of the side towers of the cathedral, 
 "This summit is formed like the leaves of a 
 rose, flattened at the top, and affording just 
 space enough for two human feet. We ascend- 
 ed accordingly, and perched like squirrels on 
 the topmost branch of a tree. The beautiful 
 city of Vienna lay at our feet. It was a most 
 lovely, calm, clear day. We heard and saw 
 all that was passing in the city ; even the songs 
 of the canary birds in the windows of some 
 houses ascended to us, and we could see the 
 butterflies fluttering over the house-tops in 
 search of some green spot in this (for them) 
 dreary waste. We could have told a gentle- 
 
 St. Stephen's Cathedral. 
 
 man we saw walking below, where the brother 
 was, of whom he was in search ; for we saw 
 him at the same time driving at his leisure 
 on the glacis. This glacis, which surrounds 
 the inmost core of the city with its, broad, 
 green ring, lends the panorama its principal 
 ornament; it causes the whole scene to fall 
 into picturesque parts, and permits the fine 
 rows of houses in the suburbs to be seen to 
 full advantage. They lie round the outer edge 
 of the glacis like white flowers in a wreath 
 of green leaves. The tower-keeper named to 
 us all the market-places, streets, houses, and 
 palaces we saw beneath, showed us the Danube, 
 the first range of the Carpathian Mountains, 
 
VIENNA. 
 
 2 4 I 
 
 the Styrian Alps, and the roads that lead to Ger- 
 many, Moravia, Bohemia, Italy, and Hungary." 
 Near the cathedral is a square called the 
 Stock-im-Eisen Platz (the Iron Tree Place), 
 a whimsical name with a whimsical origin. 
 When the church was built, it was outside the 
 walls of the city, and the forest reached to the 
 spot. In time the woods vanished before the 
 steadily growing town, until only the trunk 
 of one tree was left; and this was spared, be- 
 cause dedicated to the welfare of working-men. 
 Each artisan who entered the city drove a 
 nail into the tree, as a token of his arrival, and 
 his possession of a strong right arm. Finallv, 
 the stock, with its millions of nails, and iron 
 hoops to preserve it, has become a post of iron, 
 yet, all the time retaining the outline of a tree,' 
 and has given its name to the square. 
 
 The Belvedere Palace. 
 
 The Church of the Convent of the Capu- 
 chins is interesting, because it contains the 
 tombs of the imperial family. The bodies of 
 all who have Hapsburg blood in their veins 
 are deposited here, while their bowels are 
 placed in St. Stephen's Cathedral, and their 
 hearts are preserved in silver urns in the sub- 
 terranean Loretto Chapel of the Church of 
 the Augustines. Strangers are permitted to 
 visit the burial-place of the Capuchins under 
 the guidance of one of the old monks, with 
 his russet habit and cowl, white cord round 
 his waist, and a lantern, or an antique Roman 
 lamp, in his hand. There are over seventv 
 large, oblong, and generally bronze coffins, 
 ranged against the wall. Among the most 
 elegant is that of the Emperor Joseph I., 
 which is of massive silver, and that of Maria 
 Theresa, who is called the Queen Elizabeth 
 of Austria. A plain coffin, in a corner, holds 
 the dust of a certain countess, who was Maria 
 Theresa's governess. The great queen, as a 
 16 
 
 mark of esteem and gratitude, made a place 
 for the remains of her friend and teacher in 
 the tomb of the imperial family. For thirteen 
 years Maria Theresa herself descended into 
 this sombre vault, every Friday, to pray and 
 weep beside the remains of her husband. 
 One of the coffins most recently deposited 
 here contains the body of the unfortunate 
 Maximilian, who attempted, during our civil 
 war, to secure for himself the throne of Mexico. 
 Near the casket of Francis I. is an unadorned 
 copper coffin, with a raised cross upon it, and 
 the words " Napoleonis Gallice Imperatoris 
 Ftlius" &c. Here lies the mortal part of 
 Napoleon Bonaparte's only son, the titular King 
 of Rome, who died at Vienna, in 1832, at the 
 age of twenty-one years. He is said to have 
 been an amiable prince, and he was the favor- 
 ite of his grandfather, Francis I., who survived 
 him but three years. They were constantly 
 together in life, and the emperor desired that 
 in the sepulchre their bodies should not be 
 separated. 
 
 The Emperor Francis was almost idolized 
 by the people, so paternal was his home rule. 
 Every Wednesday he devoted certain hours to 
 the reception of any of his subjects who had 
 petitions or complaints to lay before him, and 
 people who felt unjustly treated travelled 
 hundreds of miles to tell their story to the 
 emperor himself. On one occasion, Francis 
 met, in one of the streets of Vienna, the body 
 of a poor woman which was being borne to the 
 grave unattended. He asked why the friends 
 of the deceased did not accompany her to her 
 burial. The reply was, " She has no friends." 
 "Then we will be her friends," said the 
 emperor; and, taking oft* his hat, he followed 
 the remains to the grave. About two years 
 after the death of Francis I., Mrs. Trollope, 
 the mother of the well-known novelist, was 
 in Vienna on the day called by the Germans, 
 Poor Souls' Day, which is spent in visiting 
 the graves of departed friends, and offering 
 masses for their souls. On this occasion, the 
 crypt of the Capuchin Church was open to 
 the people, and Mrs. Trollope says the old 
 and the young, the rich and the poor, thronged 
 to the casket of Francis I., and wept and 
 sobbed as though overwhelmed with grief. 
 In the evening of the same day Mrs. Trollope 
 was at a party, and spoke of her surprise at 
 the great emotion she had witnessed in the 
 morning. 
 
 " Had you known the emperor," said all 
 who heard her, " it would have caused you no 
 astonishment." 
 
 "Would it surprise you," asked a lady pres- 
 
242 
 
 VIENNA. 
 
 ent, " to see children weeping at the grave of 
 a father? The emperor was more than a fa- 
 ther to us." 
 
 The present Emperor of Austria, Francis 
 Joseph, goes once a year, shuddering and 
 shrinking,into the solemn gloom of the Loretto 
 Chapel, to pray amidst the silver urns which 
 enshrine the hearts of the deceased members 
 of his family. The church to which this 
 chapel belongs is the parish church of the 
 court, and contains the masterpiece of the 
 famous Italian artist Canova. It is the monu- 
 ment of the Archduchess Christine. He spent 
 seven years upon it, and after his death the 
 sculptor, who was asked to devise a fitting 
 monument for him, felt that he could execute 
 nothing that would be so worthy of his 
 brother-artist's greatness as a copj r of this 
 tomb; and that is what marks Canova's own 
 burial-place in Venice. 
 
 The Votif Kirche (Votive Church), which is 
 in the suburbs, is a new, elaborate, and very 
 costly Gothic structure, built by public sub- 
 scription, in memory of the hair-breadth 
 escape of the present emperor from an attempt 
 to assassinate him in 1853, when he was but 
 three and twenty years of age. The founda- 
 tion-stone was brought from the Mount of 
 Olives, and it was laid by Francis Joseph 
 himself in 1856. 
 
 An older church of interest is that called 
 St. Karl, which was built between 1713 and 
 J 737 by the benevolent Emperor Charles VI., 
 in fulfilment of a vow that he made when in 
 the former year, the plague was devastating his 
 capital. Two lofty columns, at each side of 
 the building, show, in winding bass-reliefs, 
 events in the life of Count Carlo Borromeo, a 
 celebrated saint in the Roman Catholic church ; 
 but they make the edifice look somewhat like a 
 Turkish mosque with its minarets. 
 
 The Imperial Arsenal in Vienna is open to 
 visitors every day, by tickets obtained at the 
 office of the minister of war. Here may be 
 seen, festooned around the walls of the court- 
 yard, the enormous chain of eight thousand 
 links, which the Turks, when they besieged 
 the city, ynder Sultan Solyman, in 1529, threw 
 across the Danube to impede the navigation 
 of the river. Again, in 1683, the Turks, com- 
 manded by the Grand Vizier Kara Mustapha, 
 laid siege to Vienna; and then the city was 
 saved by the gallant Pole, Sobieski, and the 
 Duke of Lorraine. Sobieski's armor is pre- 
 served in this museum, and also the green 
 standard of Mahomet, captured in the battle 
 he gained. A great variety of cannon is stored 
 in this arsenal, and one small field-piece is 
 
 known as " die Amsel" (the blackbird). Two 
 hundred thousand stand of arms are at pres- 
 ent kept in readiness here, and fortified bar- 
 racks for ten thousand men. In another 
 arsenal in the town is shown the immense 
 blood-red standard the Duke of Lorraine 
 took from the Turks, and the head of the 
 Vizier Kara Mustapha, the cord with which 
 he was strangled when he returned in defeat 
 from his expedition, and the shirt covered with 
 Arabic inscriptions from the Koran. 
 
 The Ambras Museum occupies seven rooms, 
 and contains numerous wonders. Here are 
 the horse-tail standard and quiver of old 
 Kara Mustapha, the tomahawk ofMontezuma, 
 Emperor of Mexico, and a nail, two feet long, 
 and weighing forty-two pounds, from the 
 famous Pantheon at Rome. And here is a 
 set of toys made for the children of Francis 
 
 
 The Church of St. Charles Borromeo. 
 
 I. of France and Eleanor of Austria. Think 
 of looking at the very playthings wrought for 
 the children of the French king, who met 
 Henry VIII. of England on the celebrat- 
 ed field of the cloth of gold! The cabinet 
 of minerals in this museum has a very large 
 collection of aerolites, or stones that have 
 fallen from the sky. One of these visitors 
 from afar weighs seventy-one pounds. It fell 
 to the ground in Croatia in 1751. 
 
 The ancient and splendid Belvedere Palace, 
 now a museum, is in the suburbs, about two 
 miles from St. Stephen's Cathedral, but is 
 easily reached by an omnibus. It consists of 
 two buildings, one at the summit, the other 
 at the foot of the hill. The Upper Belvedere 
 is a picture gallery, stored with invaluable 
 works by the old masters. It contains a 
 mosaic copy of Da Vinci's picture of the Last 
 
VIENNA. 
 
 2 43 
 
 Supper, which Napoleon Bonaparte engaged 
 for a certain sum, and it was taken by the 
 Emperor Francis I. at the same price. In 
 the library of this building is preserved, in a 
 glass case, Maximilian's elegant uniform, 
 dabbled with his blood, and a red sash em- 
 broidered and heavily fringed with gold. 
 The embroidery was the work of his poor 
 Carlotta's own fair hands ; and her last act, 
 before the painful parting with her husband 
 in Mexico, was to tie it over his uniform. 
 The ill-fated young prince wore that uniform 
 concealed under his mantle when led forth to 
 meet the fatal bullet. The Lower Belvedere 
 contains ancient armor, portraits of the Haps- 
 burg family, and dresses and jewels brought 
 from the South Sea by Captain Cook. 
 
 Equestrian Statue of Prince Charles Schwarzenberg. 
 
 In the imperial palace in the old quarter of 
 the city, the state apartments remain as 
 Maria Theresa left them, excepting as time 
 has marred the ancient gilding and faded the 
 heavy velvet hangings. The library of this 
 palace is a splendid one, containing three 
 hundred and fifty thousand volumes, nearly 
 as many engravings, and sixteen thousand 
 manuscripts, some of which were written 
 nearly two hundred years before the New 
 Testament was. It requires a descent to go 
 from this library to the imperial stable, but 
 the Austrians delight in noble horses, and the 
 emperor's stalls are quite worth visiting. In 
 
 the " dark stable " ninety superb sleek black 
 horses live in the height of equine luxury. 
 Before each stall lies a white mat, on which the 
 hostler must wipe his feet before stepping 
 upon the carpet of nice white straw within. 
 The " white stable " is the empress's, and 
 there are also the bay and the gray, all similar 
 in appointments. It would seem as though 
 horses might be long-lived here ; and in the 
 Vienna Museum of Natural History is pre- 
 served a horse that died in the emperor's 
 stable forty years of age. Another, in the same 
 place, is covered with woolly hair, like a poodle 
 dog. This museum has an immense goose, 
 and a pigeon, each with four legs. 
 
 About two miles out from Vienna is Schon- 
 brunn (Pretty Fountain), the usual summer 
 residence of the imperial family. This large 
 and magnificently furnished palace, which takes 
 its name from a beautiful fountain, decorated 
 with the statue of a nymph that stands in its 
 grounds, was built by Maria Theresa, and was 
 her favorite residence. Napoleon Bonaparte 
 made his headquarters here both times that his 
 troops held Vienna, in 1805 and in 1809; and 
 here his son lived and died in the same room 
 and on the same bed his illustrious father had 
 occupied. The visitor now walks through 
 certain rooms, frescoed in Mexican designs, 
 that were Maximilian's apartments. One 
 little chamber, with tapestry work and paint- 
 ings, set in the walls and protected by glass 
 cases, is the room in which Maria Theresa 
 and her daughters sat together engaged in 
 needle-work. Among the portraits in this 
 palace are seen those of this stirring queen 
 and her unhappy daughter Marie Antoinette. 
 The extensive grounds belonging to Schon- 
 brunn contain a menagerie, and very rich 
 botanical gardens. 
 
 Vienna abounds in parks or squares. Among 
 them, the one known as the Prater is em- 
 phatically " the Common " of the capital, and 
 is four miles long. The fashionable drive in 
 this immense park extends half a mile, and 
 beyond it is the Prater of the common people, 
 called the Wurstel, or Sausage Park, because, 
 on all holidays, immense quantities of sau- 
 sages ( WUrte} are always smoking here, and 
 pleasure-seekers are continually regaling upon 
 the savory compound. The Prater has wide, 
 open spaces, charming thickets, and large 
 herds of graceful, agile deer, which are so 
 tame that they will eat from strangers' hands. 
 The pretty creatures are called to one spot for 
 their supper by the notes of the Jager's horn. 
 A small but very attractive park, is called the 
 Volksgarten, or People's Garden. There is 
 
244 
 
 VIENNA. 
 
 here a fine colossal group of sculpture in 
 Carrara marble Theseus killing the Minotaur 
 made by Canova. It was executed bj an 
 order from Bonaparte, who purposed to have 
 it dfecorate the arch of the Simplon at Milan; 
 but upon his downfall it fell into the hands 
 of the Emperor of Austria. One part of the 
 Volksgarten is marked off by a wire fence as 
 belonging to Strauss, " the king of dance- 
 mnsic." Every afternoon there is a concert in 
 this park, and Strauss conducts two of them 
 every week. The Garten is a gay scene in the 
 evening, when numerous lamps are shining 
 through the flowers and shrubbery, and the 
 beautiful fountain in the centre is also bril- 
 liantly illuminated. Another square has a 
 lovely fountain decorated with five bronze fig- 
 ures, representing Austria and her four princi- 
 pal rivers the Danube, the Vistula, the Elbe, 
 and the Po. 
 
 Equestrian statues are a noticeable feature 
 of the public places in Vienna. The central 
 court of the Imperial Palace, which is now 
 called Franz ensflatz, has a colossal bronze 
 one of Francis I., supported by figures of 
 Religion, Justice, Peace, and Fortitude. It 
 was erected in 1846. The emperor is repre- 
 sented as blessing his people, and the expres- 
 sion of the face is happy; but the limbs and 
 drapery are awkward. Separated from Franz- 
 ensplatz by a railing with gilt spear heads is 
 an esplanade that adjoins the Volksgarten. 
 It is adorned with trees, flowers, and foun- 
 tains, and furnished with seats, but it is not 
 open to the public. Here are bronze eques- 
 trian statues of the Archduke Charles, the 
 conqueror of Napoleon in " the tremendous 
 battle of Aspern," and of the brave Prince 
 Eugene of Savoy in the military costume 
 of his time the early part of the eighteenth 
 century. The square called Josephsplatz 
 contains a colossal equestrian statue, which 
 Francis I. erected, in 1806, in memory of his 
 uncle, the Emperor Joseph II., son of Maria 
 Theresa. And a colossal statue of Maria 
 Theresa has also been set up to commemorate 
 her as the founder of the Military Academy. 
 It is surrounded by figures of Religion, Justice, 
 Wisdom, and Strength. Francis Joseph in- 
 tends, it is said, to have magnificent statues 
 of all the emperors of Austria erected in 
 Vienna. 
 
 The educational and literary advantages of 
 Vienna are remarkable, and also its charitable 
 institutions. Orphans, the children of sol- 
 diers and of very poor parents, are taught 
 gratuitously, schoolmasters being required 
 to take twenty-five poor children as free pupils 
 
 among every one hundred scholars they have, 
 while the state provides these needy little folks 
 with books. Rarely is any one found here 
 who has not been taught to read, and instruct- 
 ed in the first principles of religion. The 
 Vienna University is over six hundred years 
 old, though its present building is one of 
 Maria Theresa's works. It has three hundred 
 students, of whom the larger number are free 
 pupils, the salaries of the one hundred and 
 twelve professors coming wholly from the 
 state. This institution is very celebrated as a 
 school of medicine. The deaf and dumb in 
 Vienna are very tenderly cared for, and care- 
 fully instructed ; and it is from this class, who 
 are little tempted to gossip, that persons are 
 selected for such business of the state as re- 
 quires secrecy. 
 
 One of the latest handsome buildings added 
 to the structures of Vienna is a large Opera 
 House, which has a very imposing facade, and 
 is decorated with arches, porticos, arcades, and 
 numerous pilasters. It is in the style of art 
 termed the Renaissance^ which was revived 
 by Raphael, and is less stiff than the ancient, 
 but a modification of it. 
 
 On Sundays Vienna looks like " a city de- 
 populated by the plague; " for after mass the 
 people rush out of town on excursions to the 
 Prater, the suburbs, or still farther into the 
 country. But a gentleman who, some years 
 since, was staying here for a while, walked 
 out on a Sunday afternoon, and says, 
 
 " In the court-yard of one house, into which 
 I looked, I saw a little boy reading aloud from 
 a book. He told me that he was eight years 
 old, and that he did this every Sunday. I 
 took his book, and saw that he was reading 
 the Gospel of St. Luke. He said it was the 
 gospel for the day, and that many boys, in a 
 similar manner, read the gospels on a Sunday 
 before the houses of Vienna. When he had 
 finished, there descended on him, from the 
 upper stories, a grateful shower of kreuzers 
 wrapped in paper." 
 
ADVENTURES OF A WILD GOOSE. 
 
 ADVENTURES OF A WILD GOOSE, 
 
 AN ORNITHOLOGICAL SKETCH BY A 
 HUNTER-NATURALIST. 
 
 THE BIRD ISLANDS OF THE ARCTIC SEA. 
 
 A STRANGER, I had visited the town of 
 C., situated on one of the larger harbors 
 of the Gulf of St. Lawrence, on a quest of 
 some little difficulty, as it involved an unset- 
 tled claim for marine insurance ; but I received 
 a kindly welcome, and among the many pleas- 
 ant acquaintances I there formed, none inter- 
 ested me more than Major Orlebar. 
 
 One of the younger sons of an old English 
 family, he received a good education, and a 
 commission in the army, and for some years, 
 as a subaltern, led that life of genteel poverty 
 which has been the lot of so many of the 
 "younger sons" of English gentlemen. At 
 last a few short months of active service, and 
 a day or two of sharp fighting, left him an 
 open road to the majority, which had seemed 
 so unattainable, and he returned to England, 
 to fall in love with the daughter of the rector 
 of his parish. 
 
 With prompt decision he sold out his com- 
 mission, married his loving though dowerless 
 bride, and crossing the ocean, bought a half- 
 cleared farm, and settled down as one of the 
 " gentlemen farmers " of C. 
 
 It is much to be doubted if the disapproval 
 of his course, freely uttered by his relatives, 
 was at all warranted ; his pay would never have 
 been more than adequate to his own support 
 in fitting style ; while the money received 
 for his major's commission some twenty 
 thousand dolfars gave him at once a com- 
 fortable home, a farm from which he could 
 
 draw a fair yearly income, and a comparative- 
 ly higher social position among the poor and 
 uneducated colonists than he could have se- 
 cured at home. 
 
 At all events, I never saw a happier, more 
 contented man than he was, when, ten years 
 after, I met him, as an invited guest, amid the 
 old-time pleasures and jocund festivities of 
 an English Christmas. 
 
 I can almost see that happy circle now, as 
 after a furious game of " blindman's buff," we 
 seated ourselves around the huge wood fire, 
 where Yule logs of huge size crackled and 
 blazed merrily, giving at once grateful warmth, 
 and that flaring, changeful light so favorable 
 to the enjoyment of story-telling. There were 
 the major, with his grave, pleasant face ; his 
 wife, with their eldest boy resting his curly 
 head in her lap ; little May, climbing deftly to 
 her father's knee; two young English girls, 
 who had sought a home with their sister after 
 the old rector's death, and were now, appar- 
 ently, pretty certain of soon overseeing homes 
 of their own if one could judge by the ardor 
 with which two young farmers of the neigh- 
 borhood anticipated their slightest wish, and 
 improved each opportunity which "ye Merry 
 Christmas " is famous for affording to lover 
 and maiden. 
 
 "You promised us," said little May, "to 
 tell us about the life of poor Senunk." 
 
 " Perhaps, dear," said her father, " our 
 older friends would prefer to hear something 
 more interesting than the simple story of the 
 wanderings of a poor wingless goose." 
 
 With one accord, all present averred that 
 nothing would suit them better ; 'and I must 
 confess that, for my own part, I have seldom 
 heard a tale that interested me more than this 
 little bird romance of a true hunter-naturalist, 
 
ADVENTURES OF A WILD GOOSE. 
 
 246 
 
 and can only regret that my young friends 
 could not have heard it from the same source. 
 
 "You will all of you remember our pen of 
 wild geese in the poultry -yard we. visited to- 
 day, and as I called particular attention to him 
 that wingless bird, which ate out of May's 
 hand. It is the only specimen I have now 
 living of the Brent Goose (Anser Berniclea}, 
 a species of bird very plentiful on this coast, 
 and in which I take a great interest, both as 
 furnishing unexcelled food and sport, and as a 
 species whose young are hatched and reared 
 where no living man has ever trod. 
 
 " I have associated much with Senunk 
 since the time I found him half frozen, with 
 two broken wings, three years ago ; and for 
 days in spring and fall he has imparted to 
 me much knowledge of his tribe, and their 
 habits, as we have watched together, seek- 
 ing to decoy and slay his wild congeners. 
 This is what Senunk has told me, on the icy 
 
 floe, and amid the tangled reeds of the shal- 
 low harbors : 
 
 " I was borne far to the northward in an 
 ocean on which no sail ever glistened, and no 
 oar or paddle ever measured, with sharp-smit- 
 ing strokes, the swift course of boat or canoe. 
 Our nest for I had six brothers and sisters 
 was one of a myriad small, rocky islets, 
 which rose far from any land in the midst of 
 that mysterious sea ; our islet was very small, 
 being, in fact, nothing but a water-worn rock, 
 three faces of which were steep and jagged, 
 while the fourth sloped gently down into the 
 sea. It contained but three nests, those of 
 my parents and grand-parents. 
 
 " For the first few days I remember noth- 
 ing, except that our parents brought us for 
 food man^ sweet little shrimps, and other 
 tiny mollusca, and at times, although more 
 rarely, the tender marine plants which grow 
 deep down in the sheltering waves, below the 
 
 reach of frost. It was only after heavy gales 
 that we could procure this sea-wrack, and we 
 looked upon it as a great luxury ; for, as a 
 general thing, we live only on vegetable food. 
 " It was but a few days before we took our 
 first lessons in swimming; and soon I found 
 myself paddling clumsily around in the shal- 
 lows, and eagerly gathering with my little 
 bill the infusoria, or tiny insects, with which 
 those northern waters, at certain seasons, 
 may almost be said to be alive. I soon 
 satisfied my hunger, however, and striving up 
 the, to me, steep ascent of the shelving rock, 
 I reached the highest point, from which I 
 could survey the strange scene before me. 
 
 "Around me, in the shallow water, on the 
 naked rocks, in the blue sky above, all was 
 life, for the millions of our race seek this deso- 
 late sea from the coasts and harbors of two 
 continents. Every where the mother birds 
 led their callow young over the shallows, or 
 brought on swift wing some 
 dainty morsel, picked up far 
 beyond the reach of ouryouth- 
 ful vision. The rocks above 
 were crowded with nests, 
 for many young birds had 
 fallen behind in their north- 
 ward migration, and their 
 eggs, as a consequence, would 
 not be hatched for some days ; 
 while overhead, flocks of male 
 birds were darting to and fro 
 on long flights to far distant 
 shores. 
 
 "As I sat dreamily open- 
 ing and shutting my eyes, I 
 was suddenly disturbed by a sudden "whis- 
 s-sh of wings, a glimpse of a huge white bird, 
 and a sudden shove which sent me head- 
 ! long into the water twenty feet below. I 
 I plunged under, but coming to the surface, 
 i regained my balance and my breath, to find 
 | that I had been thus rudely sent overboard by 
 my grandfather, who stood above, threatening 
 with beak and wings a huge gull, who found 
 himself balked of his intended supper, and* 
 was glad to retreat from the myriads of angry 
 birds which immediately surrounded him. 
 
 " This was but the commencement of a 
 life of continual exposure to never-ceasing 
 persecutions and ever-attendant peril. Some- 
 times a huge falcon would descend into the 
 midst of a young brood, and seizing a young 
 goslin in his talons, would bear his victim 
 away at a rate of speed which defied pursuit. 
 Sometimes, as the water was covered with 
 quietly-feeding birds, the stillness would be 
 
ADVENTURES OF A WILD GOOSE. 
 
 247 
 
 suddenly broken by a loud splash, the flutter- 
 ing of a new victim, and the roar of the 
 wings, and discordant cries of the thousands 
 of birds thus disturbed by the deadly rush of 
 the Greenland shark. 
 
 " At last my mother almost gave way under 
 her constant anxieties. ' Let us leave this 
 place,' said she, ' or I shall lose all my chil- 
 dren.' At her words my grandfather turned 
 and said gravely, 
 
 " ' For us, from the day of our birth amid 
 these desolate rocks, and these mysterious 
 seas, until the hour when we fall before animal 
 craft or human wile, there is no peace, no 
 sure safety. Here our numbers repel the pre- 
 daceous birds, for the most part, 
 and the few who fall a prey to 
 shark and seal are generally vic- 
 tims to their own want of cau- 
 tion. All happiness and safety 
 are comparative, and in these 
 islet fastnesses we find a peaceful 
 refuge denied us elsewhere.' 
 
 11 It was of no use, however, for 
 my grandfather to talk, and be- 
 sides, the food supply lessened as 
 our numbers increased, and we 
 were forced at last to seek anoth- 
 er location, where there were not 
 so many mouths to be fed. The 
 families of my four grandparents 
 numbered four old and twelve 
 young birds, and our eight more, 
 old and young, so that twenty 
 of us were gathered together on 
 the old home rock, the evening be- 
 fore we flew away to commence, 
 for the younger birds at least, a 
 new and untried life. 
 
 "It was late in August, and al- 
 ready the nights were chill, and 
 the winds, when they blew east or 
 west, came laden with sleet and 
 hail, while around our islets the'** 
 young sharp ice began to form, to be broken 
 by the tough legs of our comrades, and 
 ploughed through by huge chill icebergs, set 
 loose by the autumnal gales from their gla- 
 cial birthplace far away across the open 
 sea. I shall never forget that evening, for 
 the sun was low down near the horizon, and 
 the soft south wind which had sprung up 
 wafted the massy bergs gently from the shal- 
 lows into the eddying currents of that warm 
 tide, which flows from the tropics to the poles ; 
 and as the white spires and snowy pinnacles 
 gyrated slowly, tinted with a flood of crimson 
 glory and refracted light, the surgeless eddies 
 
 reflected, in ever-changing mockery, fantastic 
 shadows of a scene whose beauty I can never 
 forget. 
 
 "But my grandsire, who, from his age and 
 experience, was looked upon as the leader of 
 our party, commenced conveying to us his 
 final instructions for the next day's journey- 
 ings. 
 
 " 'We leave to-morrow,' said he, ' the only 
 place of safety now left to our persecuted 
 race. I see no alternative, for the supply of 
 food will otherwise be inadequate to the wants 
 of the younger broods. To-morrow we shall 
 seek the shores of the main land, where new 
 dangers will await us the midnight attack of 
 
 the arctic owl, the stealthy assault of the fox, 
 and the clumsy cunning of the polar bear. 
 
 " 'Trust only to continual vigilance, and a 
 close attention to the counsels of your elders, 
 and remember never to stray by land or water 
 far from the main body, for it is with numbers 
 alone that we can meet the talons and sharp 
 beaks of our bloodthirsty enemies, the owl and 
 falcon.' 
 
 " I remember still that northern islet-studded 
 sea, the father-land of our winged millions, 
 as it looked when, in the early dawn, I gazed 
 upon it for the last time. The huge isolated 
 rocks, washed by the desolate sea ; the ever- 
 
c 4 S 
 
 ADVENTURES OF A WILD GOOSE. 
 
 shifting icebergs gliding along in the distance 
 like huge ships, to dash against each other, or 
 be overwhelmed between the mighty surges 
 and the outer cliffs of the archipelago ; the 
 crowded masses of mother-birds with their 
 young broods upon the rocky slopes ; the 
 countless thousands which fed and swam over 
 the shallows, with the constant flight of large 
 flocks to east, and west, and south, are still 
 before my memory, and each returning spring 
 brings back to each of our race a homesick 
 longing which is almost irresistible. 
 
 "But I thought little of what the future 
 might have in store for me, and as, with a 
 cry of farewell and encouragement, the older 
 birds sprang into the air, their young followed, 
 at first in a confused, disorderly rush, which 
 gradually resolved itself into a sharply-defined 
 and wedge-like phalanx, of which the eldest 
 formed the point, and the youngest and weak- 
 est the last on the diverging flank-lines. 
 
 " It was nearly night when far ahead we saw 
 before us the snow-covered cliffs, which stood 
 on either side of the entrance of the harbor we 
 were seeking ; but as the sun sank low down 
 in the horizon, we rapidly neared our haven, 
 sweeping down from our lofty flight between 
 the sentinel cliffs, when from behind them 
 rang a shrill scream, and in an instant a 
 broad-winged falcon towered high above our 
 trembling company. 
 
 "'Alight, and face him with beak and 
 wings,' shouted my grandsire, promply set- 
 ting the example, which was followed by the 
 rest, but too late ; for as the leading birds 
 splashed into the water, my youngest brother, 
 the last of the flock, fell dead among us, with 
 his white breast-feathers crimsoned with the 
 drops that oozed from his wounded brain. We 
 had no resource but to leave his body to the 
 triumphant butcher, who, with shrill screams, 
 circled above us until we took wing, and flew 
 into the strange haven, weary and sad at 
 heart. 
 
 " 'Behold, O my children,' said our grand- 
 sire, ' a foretaste of the perils which await us. 
 One victim has already fallen ; and on every 
 hand you may hear the shrill bark of the arc- 
 tic fox; while over these shifting floes, alike in- 
 different to the crash of icebergs or the over- 
 whelming seas, roams the huge but noiseless 
 and terrible polar bear. A watch must be kept 
 by night and day, for the perils which are past 
 are as nothing to the mortal dangers which lie 
 before.' 
 
 "Twice that night did our watchful elders 
 warn us in season of the noiseless approach 
 of the foxes, and as many times had we re- 
 
 moved to more isolated ice-fields, until at last 
 we were several miles from the shore. The 
 full moon silvered berg, floe, and motionless 
 sea, gilding even the barren and misshapen 
 cliff with that softened radiance which gives 
 to all things some share of unreal beauty. 
 Resting on a small floe we slept, but the old 
 birds by turns watched as anxiously as ever. 
 I awoke with a sense of peril for which there 
 was no apparent cause, for nothing was in 
 sight but a few small fragments of floating 
 ice, of varied shape, one of which was, if any- 
 thing, a little more rounded than the rest. 
 
 " One by one they came within our circle of 
 attraction, and adhered to our floe. At last I 
 missed the rounded fragment, but looking 
 downward, saw with half-shut eyes a white 
 mass shooting up from the depths of the sea. 
 I heard the thrilling alarm-cry of our sentinel, 
 as they broke into sudden foam, and a pair of 
 armed jaws yawned below fiercely glaring eyes. 
 A powerful blow swept among us, and the 
 body of one of my companions, hurled, along 
 like a stone from a sling, struck just before me, 
 and rebounding, flung me into the sea. 
 
 ' ' I was unhurt, however, and taking to flight, 
 joined the flock, as, unwilling to desert our 
 murdered companions, we wheeled with wild 
 cries around the glittering berg, on which, as 
 on a throne, huge, powerful, stealthy, and 
 merciless, sat triumphantly devouring our lost 
 ones, the monarch of the undiscovered sea, 
 the ranger of the untrodden floes, the terrible 
 polar bear. 
 
 "As we sought, in fear and sorrow, an iso- 
 lated rock, which rose high with steep and 
 shelving sides above the sea, I listened to the 
 voices of my grieving companions, now re- 
 duced in number to seventeen. Two of our 
 leaders had fallen before that terrible paw : we 
 were orphans." 
 
ADVENTURES OF A WILD GOOSE. 
 
 249 
 
 ADVENTUKES OF A WILD GOOSE, 
 
 AN ORNITHOLOGICAL SKETCH BY" A 
 HUNTER-NATURALIST. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 THE FLORIDA COAST. THE 'SPRING MIGRA- 
 TION. 
 
 " TT was late in the month of November 
 *- when we arrived at our winter quarters, 
 on the eastern coast of Florida. On leaving 
 the Gulf of St. Lawrence, where the myriads 
 of our migrating hosts had rendezvoused, we 
 crossed the great Tantramar marsh, lying be- 
 tween Bay Verte and the head of the Bay of 
 Fundy, and passed on, with little stay for 
 food or rest, towards our southern destina- 
 tion. 
 
 "No heavy sea-fogs bewildered the sight 
 of our leaders ; no heavy gales arose to chill 
 and benumb the weak and infirm, and the 
 boatmen of Cohasset and Cape Cod, and the 
 gunners of Long Island, and Barnegat, and 
 the Chesapeake, bewailed their lost time and 
 useless weapons, as they saw, day by day, the 
 mild, warm rays of the autumn sun gleam 
 from a cloudless sky upon an unruffled sea, 
 while we swept swiftly southward, far away 
 from the treacherous shore, and its thousand 
 perils, resting now and then on the ever- 
 throbbing ocean, to sleep through the hours 
 of darkness, or snatch a hasty meal, amid a 
 floating bed of sea-wrack. 
 
 "At last, diverging to the south-west, we 
 saw the low, white outlines of Cape Carnav- 
 eral, and passing inside of Cape Florida, the 
 northern island promontory of the Florida 
 Keys, we saw before us the shallow waters, 
 low, verdant shores, and still lagoons of our 
 winter home. No signs of the presence of 
 man was visible, save the battered timbers of 
 some long-stranded wreck, or the distant sail 
 of wrecker or fisherman. 
 
 , " At low tide, leagues of limestone, covered 
 j nth a whitish ooze, from which sprang cluster- 
 /ng sponges and delicate corallines, lay be- 
 tween the breaking surf and sloping sand- 
 / beaches of the inner islands and the main 
 shore, which were strewn with millions of 
 shells, of all shapes, colors, and sizes. With- 
 in the tiny harbors, or rather lagoons, grew 
 dense forests of white and black mangroves, 
 which reared their tall trunks on arching 
 roots, which raised them far above the oozy 
 mud, into which their slender branches 
 drooped, to be covered with clustering oys- 
 ters, barnacles, and other shell-fish, around 
 which, at high tide, gathered the delicious 
 
 sheep's-head, sea-trout, mullet, rock-fish, and 
 a score of other species of beautiful and de- 
 licious sea-fish. 
 
 " The shores were covered with ever- verdant 
 herbage, and perennial shrubs, and plants, 
 among which were conspicuous the impen- 
 etrable thickets of Palmetto Royal, or Adam's 
 Needle (yucca gloriosa). This curious plant 
 was our great natural defence from the intru- 
 sion of man, or of beasts of prey on our fa- 
 vorite haunts. Properly an herbaceous plant, 
 it at first presents but a cluster of long, nar- 
 row, sword-like leaves, of a perfect green, 
 ending in a stiff, sharp point, with crenated 
 edges. As it grows, however, it develops a 
 ligneous stem, ten or twelve feet high, crowned 
 with a chaplet of its annual foliage, and 
 crested with a pyramid of bell-like blossoms, 
 of a silver white, which, in their turn, give 
 place to an edible purple fruit. 
 
 "These plants lined the edges of the wood- 
 ed upland with chevaux-de-frise, scarce pen- 
 etrable by a bird or rat, and beyond them 
 were reared 'the pride of a Floridian forest, 
 the blended beauties of the temperate and the 
 torrid zones. There the cypress rose from the 
 lower grounds, with the glossy-leaved tupelo, 
 and the broad-armed sweet-bay, and near at 
 hand the water-oak showered down its sweet- 
 kerneled acorns, and the dwarf prickly pal- 
 metto spread its fan-shaped leaves. Farther 
 up were lofty broom pines, graceful magno- 
 lias and kalmias, the green-leaved holly with 
 its coral berries, and pines, and palms of many 
 kinds, blending their varied foliage, in strik- 
 ing but beautiful contrast, softened, some- 
 what, by the weird, all-pervading drapery 
 which the Spanish moss cast alike over mas- 
 sive trunk and slender limb. By the limpid 
 rivulets stretched verdant prairies, on whose 
 borders the orange, shaddock, and lime cast 
 their ungathered fruit, and the wild turkeys 
 strutted and fed beneath the nut-laden hazels 
 and chincapins. 
 
 " On the broad marshes, lined with thick 
 sedges and graceful, plume-tipped reeds, and 
 among the mangrove flats and weed-choked 
 shallows, we found an ample supply of. food, 
 among an innumerable multitude of other 
 migrating birds. To enumerate even the 
 names of the various species would weary 
 your patience, and be beyond the scope of my 
 recollection ; but that scene is never to be for- 
 gotten. Vast flights of sea-fowl, that almost 
 darkened the air, and covered the broad waters 
 of the shallow lagoons, on whose borders 
 stalked huge cranes, and herons, and bittern 
 of many species, attended by hosts of ibis, 
 
250 
 
 ADVENTURES OF A WILD GOOSE. 
 
 curlew, gallirrules, and other wading birds 
 of gorgeous and striking plumage, among 
 whom, here and there, appeared the tall form 
 and vivid crimson feathers of the flamingo. 
 
 " Myriads of sand-pipers and of plover 
 gleaned the animalcula of the marsh ooze ; 
 hosts of ducks and tiny teal whirred up from 
 the thick sedges, and the sea-gulls and small 
 tern gathered from their summer haunts, by 
 the frozen seas, to the wilderness shores of 
 this winterless land, and many an ocean 
 rover, the sharp-billed gannet, the tireless 
 frigate-bird, the fierce cormorant, and the ra- 
 pacious shag, came from their ocean-cruising, 
 to rest a while among the inundated jungles 
 of the Everglades. 
 
 " Yet life here was not without its dangers. 
 Above us circled, in his lofty eyrie, the huge 
 gray eagle, ever ready to strike a duck among 
 the sheltering sedges, or bear the vainly-bleat-< 
 ing fawn from the side of its dam ; and weak- 
 er, but no less to be feared, swooped from his 
 lower eyrie his bold congener, and the less 
 feared fishing-eagle ; while hawks of many 
 kinds and varying powers of offence gathered 
 around the winged host, whose weaker mem- 
 bers afforded many victims to their watchful 
 enemies. 
 
 " Still our life here was peaceful, on the 
 whole, and our little flock of eight lost but 
 one member during the entire winter. We 
 were gathered one day in a shallow of the 
 Shark's Head River, into which had fallen an 
 ample supply of acorns from the oaks on the 
 bank above. A bank of sedges shut us out 
 from the river view, and the islet was small, 
 and apparently untenanted. We were feeding, 
 merrily conversing, as is our wont, when sud- 
 denly a dead silence fell on all our company. 
 Turning quickly to learn the cause, I saw 
 above me, among the many-colored foliage, a 
 terrific sight. A tall savage, clad in skins 
 worked with many-hued beads, with his face 
 painted in vivid patterns, and surmounted by 
 a crest of waving feathers, crouched amid the 
 leaves, levelling a heavy rifle. Even as my 
 grandsire shook his pinions in flight, a puff 
 of smoke, and a jet of fire shot from the fatal 
 ambush, and the partner of his many wander- 
 ings fell, pierced by the deadly bullet, and we 
 saw, as we circled once above the fatal spot, 
 the lifeless body seized by a gaunt hound, and 
 borne into the treacherous ambush. 
 
 "At last the spring came; and early in 
 March we set out on our northward journey. 
 Many changes had taken place in our flock, 
 which was still under the direction of my 
 widowed grandsire, but which had increased 
 
 in number to twelve, owing to the mating of 
 many of our number, myself among the 
 rest. The passion of love seemed to pervade 
 all things at that season ; the deer mated be- 
 side the rivulets, the turkeys called to each 
 other in the forests, the thickets were vocal 
 with the love-songs of the mocking-bird and 
 the soft cooing of the ground-doves. Even 
 the harsh gabble of the feathered tribes of 
 ocean gave waj' to a soft, incessant murmur, 
 inexpressibly mournful and weird to the vov- 
 aging mariner, but speaking to us of a wealth 
 of life and of love. Slowly we passed on 
 northward, meeting ever with cold, sleety 
 gales from the north and east, and constantly 
 exposed to a thousand perils from the deadly 
 marksmen, who watched for us on every mile 
 of the long, low coast-line. 
 
 " It was on the Chesapeake that misfortune 
 first befell one of our number. My eldest sur- 
 viving brother separated from us on the way 
 northward, to attach himself to another flock, 
 led by a young and inexperienced bird. Late 
 in the night, both flocks alighted on some 
 broad shallows, amid the thick sea-weed, be- 
 ginning at dawn to feed amid the surround- 
 ing herbage. The quick eye of my grandsire 
 soon perceived a skiff, disguised with reeds, 
 approaching, and while the danger was still 
 distant, advised us to take to flight. 
 
 " The leader of the other flock derided the 
 idea. ' You have grown cowardly in your old 
 age, old Gray-wing,' said he. ' I know to a 
 yard the reach of their shot, and I shan't stir 
 until he has paddled up to that point. By 
 that time we shall have had breakfast, and 
 shall fly off, leaving him to row back without 
 a feather.' 
 
 " ' I am afraid, it is true,' answered my rel- 
 ative ; ' but I have been thirty years on the 
 coast, and have heard of guns which can kill 
 easily from the distance which you call safe. 
 I shall work down the bay, and we must feed 
 as we go. You had better follow.' 
 
 " ' I have heard of and seen those " stanchion 
 guns," as they call them ; but that " float " is too 
 small for anything but a light fowling-piece, 
 or an old musket loaded with buck-shot; so 
 trust to me, and we shall go northward, with 
 a good laugh at yonder skulking gunner, and 
 a better meal than our over-careful friends.' 
 
 " As we swam steadily away, feeding a little 
 here and there, but keeping the original dis- 
 tance between us and the boat undiminished, 
 I cast many anxious glances upon our thought- 
 less friends, who continued to feed, in perfect 
 security, until the boat had almost reached the 
 prescribed limit, full two hundred yards away. 
 
ADVENTURES OF A WILD GOOSE. 
 
 I saw the young leader of the flock raise his 
 head quickly, and give a warning cry, full of 
 horrified dismay, as he gave the signal for 
 flight. I saw their swift pinions beating the 
 water into foam, in desperate flight, and then 
 the slight disguise of withered grass was blown 
 from the bows of the tiny boat by the heavy 
 charge of shot belched forth by her tremen- 
 dous swivel. Scarcely a bird escaped ; and as 
 we, too, took flight in fear and sorrow, we laid 
 to heart the new lesson we had received of 
 the many wiles and tremendous destructive 
 power of our great enemy, man. 
 
 " 'I have faced the javelin of the Esquimaux, 
 the arrow of the Indian, the far-reaching bul- 
 let and thick-flying shot of the white hunter, 
 and have escaped a thousand wiles and snares ; 
 but I know the day will come when even my 
 sagacity will fail, and I shall fall before the en- 
 emies of my race.' 
 
 " Thus spoke my grandsire as I flew by his 
 side, two nights later, beneath a brilliant moon, 
 along the southern shore of Cape Cod. He 
 spoke sadly, almost despairingly ; but Idreamed 
 not how soon his forebodings of disaster were 
 to be verified. A few hours later, in the early 
 dawn, we entered a wide haven, whose narrow 
 channels flowed amid broad expanses of shal- 
 low water, densely covered with our favorite 
 food. 
 
 " After feeding some hours, we saw at a little 
 distance a sandy bar, on which the rising tide 
 gradually encroached. On its highest point 
 rose a square rock hung with weeds, and a 
 number of birds of our own kind swam and 
 fed in the adjacent shallows, and answered 
 our calls, evidently wishing us to join them. 
 The place seemed suitable to dry our feathers, 
 and procure a little gravel and clean sand ; and 
 we were soon in their midst, feeding, chasing 
 each other, and pluming our displaced feath- 
 ers on the 'dry bar. As the tide came in, we 
 retreated higher, until we were scarcely thirty 
 yards from the rock. Then the fatal ambus- 
 cade was disclosed, the decoy birds were pulled, 
 screaming and flapping, from among us, by 
 means of concealed cords ; and, as heavy and 
 repeated volleys thundered in my ears, I felt a 
 sudden shock, sharp pains, and I became sense- 
 less. 
 
 " When I came to myself, I was in the hands 
 of a man who, with two others, sat in the 
 cunningly-constructed ' blind,' so fatal to my 
 doomed companions. 
 
 " ' They are all dead except this ona ; and he 
 has both wings broken,' said he. ' Shall we 
 save him for a decoy ? ' 
 
 " All agreed to this; and the shattered tips 
 
 of my wings being amputated, I was trained, 
 and finally sent as a gift to my present master. 
 I have since lured many to destruction ; for 
 my longing for love and companionship, and 
 the unforgotten glories of the Arctic Sea, come 
 upon me with each returning spring, as I 
 see my happier kindred sweeping northward 
 through the free path of heaven, and I cannot 
 resist the desire of meeting them once more, 
 though I know I call them beneath the deadly 
 shower of mitraille that has spared me thus 
 far ; although I know that, like my race, I, too, 
 shall fall by the hand of man." 
 
 The narrator ceased as the clock struck mid- 
 night, and our happy party was over. A few 
 years later, I met Major Orlebar in St. John, 
 N. B., and asked him if he still possessed his 
 wingless Brent goose. He answered, with a 
 slight tinge of real sadness in his tone, 
 
 " Poor Senunk was a sad loss to me, for I 
 had watched him so much in our May days to- 
 gether, on the ice-floes, that he became very 
 tame, confiding, and useful. I left him one 
 day for a few moments, and on my return 
 heard a gun fired near my boat. A dandy of- 
 ficer of the garrison, who was remarkable for 
 his ridiculous sporting misadventures, had 
 capped the climax of his stupidity by shooting 
 my decoy-bird, thus ending the strange AD- 
 VENTURES OF A WILD GOOSE." 
 
25 2 
 
 REMINISCENCES OF WEST AFRICAN LIFE. 
 
 A SONNINKEE COURT OF JUSTICE. Page 255. 
 
 KEMINISOENCES OF WEST 
 LIFE. 
 
 APKIOAN 
 
 BY EDWARD DUSSEAULT, JR. 
 
 A SONNINKEE COURT OF 
 JUSTICE. 
 
 FROM the early part of 1864 to the latter 
 part of 1873, I resided in Western Africa. 
 I became familiar with the Mandingo lan- 
 guage, and understood Jollof and Serra-Ouli 
 well enough to suit my purpose as a trader. 
 Most of my time was passed at a considerable 
 distance from the seaboard, and some two 
 hundred miles from the nearest white man. I 
 was often obliged to conform to the habits 
 and customs of the blacks ; ate and drank with 
 them, slept beneath the same roof, and joined 
 them in their pastimes and excursions. I had 
 to be careful not to shock their religious feel- 
 ings, and, above all, never to mention the 
 name of Mohammed save with profound re- 
 spect; and I have often overheard a stalwart 
 African express the wish that the Christian 
 dog, whom their chief was entertaining, were 
 not.a guest, and, as such, entitled to their pro- 
 tection, and some consideration. All seemed 
 to vie with each other, at certain times, in 
 their endeavors to exasperate me by insults, 
 
 expecting to succeed in making me lose my 
 temper and strike them ; and it often took the 
 utmost self-possession, on my part, not to 
 retaliate upon them. 
 
 I resided principally in that section of the 
 country watered by the Gambia and Senegal, 
 am well acquainted with the former from its 
 mouth upwards, and am just as much at home 
 floating on the surface of its limpid waters, as 
 I should be if it had been my birthplace. 
 
 I do not purpose now to give a minute de- 
 scription of either of these streams, though I 
 may hereafter be tempted to do so. But I 
 merely wish to refer to a few of my own remi- 
 niscences, and to illustrate, by an incident in 
 which I was one of the principal actors, the 
 prodigious memory which is sometimes dis- 
 played by the better class of Africans. Here, 
 let me say, at once, that I am by no means a 
 follower of Dr. Hunt, formerly, if not now, 
 president of the Anthropological Society of 
 London, who gained an unenviable notoriety 
 by publishing his address, before that society, 
 on " The Negro's Place in Nature," wherein 
 he declares him to be an anthropoid ape. For 
 I believe the negroes, even the true negroes 
 as defined by him, to be something more than 
 apes, and that they are endowed with some- 
 thing more than mere instinct. True, they 
 
REMINISCENCES OF WEST AFRICAN LIFE. 
 
 253 
 
 but rarely exhibit any great amount of intelli- 
 gence, but they have a sort of low, native 
 cunning, which goes far towards making them 
 difficult to trade with ; and he who carries with 
 him an exaggerated idea of their inferiority, 
 is sure to get the worst of a bargain. 
 
 In the region of the Upper Gambia, various 
 classes of blacks are met with. Mandingos, 
 Jollofs, Accons, Serraoulis, Foulahs, Fonta- 
 Foulahs, Taurankas, Ouasoloonkas, Kroumen, 
 and many others, all vie here, with low cun- 
 ning, " grave deceit and paltry cheat," to gain 
 our dollars. Their religions and customs are 
 in many respects different, and in some cases 
 entirely so. The Mohammedan religion, how- 
 ever, predominates, and its devotees are here 
 called Marabouts a name given to none but 
 priests by the Arabs, but indiscriminately ap- 
 plied here to all Mohammedans. The pagans 
 those having no religion, unless the most 
 superstitious Fetish practices can be called 
 such are here called Sonninkees. They are 
 not only lovers of ardent spirits, but generally 
 drunkards. Hence the word Sonninkee has 
 got to mean a di'inker of intoxicating liquors. 
 The latter are the rightful owners of the soil, 
 but the Mohammedans are fast gaining the 
 supremacy over all others; and they .will, no 
 doubt, soon subjugate all who aremow opposed 
 to their rule up to the source of the river. 
 
 Having been the best supplied trader in the 
 Upper Gambia, I became intimately acquainted 
 with these blacks, and had ample opportuni- 
 ties to study their character and customs. My 
 knowledge of the Mandingo language, which 
 is almost universally understood in this region, 
 assisted me very much to establish intimate 
 relations with them ; and, consequently, I have 
 often witnessed, very often been the principal 
 actor in, many an incident, which, if properly 
 related, would prove interesting to the gen- 
 eral reader; and it is with the hope of suc- 
 ceeding to do this that I have undertaken to 
 relate some of my Reminiscences of West Af- 
 rican Life. 
 
 In November, traders proceed up this river 
 (the Gambia), land goods along its banks, 
 and there remain with them, during the dry 
 season, to barter them against produce, which 
 consists chiefly of groundnuts (generally 
 called peanuts in the United States), very 
 few of which are shipped here, the greater 
 part being shipped to France and England, 
 where their oil is expressed, and called olive 
 oil. Nearly all the salad oil used in this coun- 
 try is groundnut oil, there being but very 
 little, if any, olive oil used for salad here, or 
 even in France. 
 
 Now, it very often happens that a dispute 
 arises between rival traders, which has to be 
 settled by the king, or one or more of his 
 chiefs ; and it is well worth one's while to be. 
 present, during a civil suit, in a Sonninkee 
 court of justice. I became involved in one 
 of these suits in 1865. I was at my factory at 
 Yabu-Tenda, in the kingdom of Ouli, at the 
 head of navigation for small crafts. The trad- 
 ing season was drawing to a close, it being 
 during the first half of May, which is the last 
 month of the season. I had caused to be 
 measured, on my account, a quantity of ground- 
 nuts (eleven thousand bushels), had paid for 
 them, and nothing remained but to transport 
 them to my stores. But, before I had com- 
 menced transporting them, they were claimed 
 by another trader, who said that the holders 
 had agreed to sell them to him, when he first 
 came up, at the commencement of the season, 
 and that, on the strength of this agreement, 
 he had made them many valuable presents. 
 He wished me to give up the nuts, upon his 
 giving me the same amount as I had paid for 
 them, in the same kind of goods that I had 
 given. I, of course, refused ; and he referred 
 the matter to the king of Ouli (Juma I.), and 
 the latter appointed a day (the 2ist of May, 
 1865), when we were both to be at his capital, 
 Medina, with all our witnesses. He said that 
 he would then summon his court, and that he 
 would preside and decide in person upon the 
 merits of the case. This arrangement was 
 formally agreed to both by the plaintiff and 
 myself on the I2th, and we therefore had 
 nine days before us, he to decide upon his 
 mode of attack, and I upon my mode of de- 
 fence. We both had ample time for this, as 
 neither of us was busy, the whole crop having 
 been bought by the traders, who were only 
 waiting for vessels to ship both themselves 
 and their produce. 
 
 The preliminaries of these trials are always 
 expensive, as both plaintiff and defendant vie 
 with each other in making presents to the 
 king and his head men, expecting thus to gain 
 the sympathy of the court. The plaintiff dis- 
 tributed his presents with a recklessly lavish 
 hand, and I had some misgivings as to the 
 result of our dispute. One circumstance, how- 
 ever, was in my favor. The plaintiff was a 
 strict Mohammedan, whereas the king of Ouli 
 is a Sonninkee. They were, therefore, ene- 
 mies, and a small present from me would go 
 as far towards influencing the king as a com- 
 paratively large one from my friend the plain- 
 tiff. I felt certain that, so long as the plain- 
 tiff did not overcome his scruples and give 
 
254 
 
 REMINISCENCES OF WEST AFRICAN LIFE. 
 
 the king rum, as he had done on another 
 and similar occasion, I was all right, and 
 had every reason to believe that I would receive 
 impartial justice at his (the king's) hands. 
 But knowing well, to mj cost, the elasticity 
 of a Mohammedan's conscience, I feared that 
 rum would be used, and endeavors made to 
 intoxicate the king, and to keep him drunk. 
 In that case judgment would have to be pro- 
 nounced, and justice meted out by the head 
 man for war (Kalley Oualley), who was a no- 
 torious and unprincipled old drunkard, whom 
 the plaintiff had succeeded in making his 
 friend. Having, however, finally settled in 
 my own mind what to do, and what presents 
 to give, I decided to await events. I therefore 
 sent them (the presents) to the king and his 
 head men, who told my messenger to assure 
 me that I need not fear the result of the trial, 
 as every member of the court was on my side, 
 and determined that I should retain the nuts 
 in question. I had no doubt that the same 
 message had been sent to the plaintiff, who, 
 by the by, was called Samba Easer. 
 
 Medina, the capital, where the king held his 
 court, is a good ten hours' ride, at a brisk 
 walk, from the nearest point of the river's 
 bank, which is Fatta-Tenda; and this latter 
 place is five hours' ride from Yabu-Tenda, 
 where I was stationed. I pass over this little 
 journey (although it was an. eventful one to 
 me), as it has no connection with the subject 
 of this paper; and I therefore reserve an ac- 
 count of it for another number. I must add, 
 however, that I suffered some indignities at 
 the hands of some Mohammedans, amongst 
 whom was Samba Easer, during this jour- 
 ney to Medina, which enraged the king, put 
 him altogether in my favor, and resulted in 
 the imprisonment of these Mohammedans, 
 together with Samba Easer. Daybreak, the 
 iyth May, 1865, found me within three miles 
 of the capital, winding my way through a 
 thick growth of stunted trees, and we passed 
 a human hand sticking out of the ground, 
 and appearing as though a human arm had 
 been planted there. It was the hand of a 
 Greeot, who had died the day before, and been 
 thus buried with one hand sticking out of his 
 grave. Greeots' bodies, in most other places, 
 are put into the hollow of a large baobab, and 
 they are allowed no other kind of burial. 
 
 A little after five o'clock A. M., we emerged 
 from the forest upon the finest and most fertile 
 plain I ever was on in Africa. Every tree 
 capable of sheltering an enemy had been cut 
 down ; and it formed almost a circle fully two 
 miles in diameter. In its centre is the strongly- 
 
 stockaded town of Medina, the capital of Ouli. 
 I pulled up my horse and stopped to admire 
 the scene before us. They had had rain here 
 the day before, and, consequently, the plain 
 was covered with people, preparing the ground 
 to receive the seed for the next crop of corn, 
 while the chiefs were riding about, urging 
 them to work faithfully ; and I looked upon 
 the nearest approach to civilized life which I 
 had ever seen in the region of the Upper 
 Gambia. We presently moved slowly towards 
 the stockade, whilst the dogs yelped, and the 
 children, and even some of the women and 
 slaves, ran away at sight of a white man. We 
 were soon accosted by one of the king's sons, 
 a boy whom I had frequently met before, 
 who told me that the king was anxious about 
 me. He led us to the king's residence inside 
 of the stockade, and motioned us to a seat on 
 the bantang, before the door. In a few mo- 
 ments the king arrived, perfectly sober, and 
 graciously received us, with a very patronizing 
 air. Then, after interchanging a few com- 
 monplace remarks, he told me to ask a man, 
 whom he pointed out to me, for anything that 
 I might want, and then retired, saying that he 
 would see me again during the day. 
 
 I had another interview with the king that 
 day, and dined at seven. Being weary, I soon 
 retired to rest, but got very little sleep, on ac- 
 count of the noise kept up all night by the 
 Sonninkees, most of whom were drunk and 
 quarrelsome. The stench of alcohol was al- 
 most intolerable ; and I was glad, when morn- 
 ing came, to go outside of the stockade, to 
 roam among the farms. The men and women 
 working upon them soon familiarized them- 
 selves with the appearance of the white 
 stranger, and plied me with questions, while 
 the children followed me about, stared at me 
 with wonder, and remarked to each other 
 that my skin looked like pork. The rest 
 of the time, up to the trial, was passed in 
 this way, and in shooting in the vicinity; 
 and I fattened on venison and other choice 
 game. 
 
 The morning of the 2oth, Salum Jarta ar- 
 rived, with the other members of the court; 
 and at about nine o'clock P. M. Samba Easer, 
 the plaintiff in my palaver, was marched in 
 as a prisoner, his elbows bound together be- 
 hind his back, and guarded by Sonninkees, 
 with drawn cutlasses, with which they occa- 
 sionally pricked him, to hurry him along. He 
 was mocked and jeered at by every native 
 present; and one could not help pitying him 
 who, yesterday, was the most influential Serra- 
 ouli in Ouli, as he stood there, securely bound, 
 
REMINISCENCES OF WEST AFRICAN LIFE. 
 
 2 55 
 
 the jeer and laughing-stock of the slaves, who 
 grinned and stared at him. 
 
 The night was passed pleasantly on the 
 bantang. Salum Jarta had succeeded in per- 
 suading the king to keep rum out of the court 
 until after the palavers to come before him 
 should be settled. Every one, therefore, was 
 sober. The principal men of Ouli were here, 
 appearing at their best, and Salum entertained 
 us with amusing stories, told as he alone 
 in all Ouli could tell them, and some of which 
 I would try to repeat here, if I but had the 
 space. No one, who could have heard this 
 great master of the Mandingo language on 
 that occasion, could, fora single instant, doubt 
 the humanity of the negro, or ever after rank 
 him as an anthropoid ape. At length we 
 gradually stretched ourselves, one by one, on 
 the bantang, and were soon all asleep. The 
 night was cool, there were no mosquitos 
 (they are rare away from the banks of the 
 river), and all noise had been prohibited with- 
 in a certain distance of the king's residence. 
 
 The next morning, at about five o'clock, I 
 was summoned to the court; and I soon per- 
 ceived that the day was to be observed as a 
 holy day in the Sonninkee capital. The Son- 
 ninkees were all clad in their war costumes, 
 covered with gregrees, and armed from head 
 to foot. It was a beautiful day, not very 
 warm, and the morning air was refreshing. I 
 at once proceeded to the large tree, half a mile 
 outside of the stockade, where the court had 
 already assembled, and a seat was assigned 
 me near Salum Jarta. The king sat in the 
 centre of the group on a leopard's skin, and 
 was dressed in white ; while the chiefs were in 
 their full war costumes, and all armed with 
 musket and cutlass. An armed crowd of up- 
 wards of two thousand Sonninkees sat on the 
 ground, at a distance of not more than ten 
 paces, in front of the court. Samba Easer's 
 witnesses were all called, and then mine ; and 
 all having answered to their names, the plain- 
 tiff was told to make a statement of his case. 
 He had been temporarily released from his 
 bonds, and, for the time, allowed full liberty 
 of speech. As he proceeded, a Sonninkee re- 
 peated his words in a loud voice, that all the 
 court might hear and understand. His wit- 
 nesses were then examined, and their evidence 
 repeated in the same manner as his statement 
 had been, word for word. When his witnesses 
 had all been thus examined, I was called upon 
 to make my statement, and I made it to the 
 Sonninkee, who repeated it, as he had done 
 Samba Easer's. Then my witnesses were ex- 
 amined in the same way, getting through by 
 
 eight o'clock. By this time I began to be dis- 
 gusted with the proceedings ; for neither the 
 king nor the chiefs seemed to pay any atten- 
 tion at all to the trial, and they all looked as 
 though they would like to go to sleep. I felt 
 certain that none of them knew a word of 
 what had been said. 
 
 At length, after an uninterrupted silence, 
 Kalley Oualley straightened up and began to 
 address the court: and, as he proceeded, I 
 could not help looking at him with astonish- 
 ment. This man, who had appeared drowsy, 
 perfectly indifferent, half asleep, and stupid, 
 now appeared a totally different being. He, 
 the dirtiest, filthiest old drunkard in Ouli, 
 now, for a wonder, sober, repeated the whole 
 testimony on both sides almost word for word, 
 made judicious remarks upon the character of 
 the different witnesses who had been examined, 
 and wound up in an eloquent appeal to the 
 king not to allow the whites to have it all 
 their own way, but to teach them, by a fitting 
 example, that their black brethren were men, 
 as well as they; and that they would not be 
 allowed to impose upon his subjects on his 
 soil, and in their country. He was listened 
 to with the greatest attention and admira- 
 tion. His gestures were graceful, and his 
 language well chosen, and, time and circum- 
 stances taken into consideration, polished and 
 elegant. The thought that this eloquent sav- 
 age was the filthiest old drunkard I had ever 
 seen anywhere, was almost a painful one. All 
 the chiefs surprised me, in their turn, by their 
 remarkable and truly astonishing memory; 
 but none exhibited anything more than mere 
 memory, save Kalley Oualley, until Salum 
 Jarta's turn came. He always spoke last at all 
 palavers, and never but once. Like the others, 
 he summed up the evidence on both sides ; he, 
 furthermore, analyzed every sentence having 
 any bearing on the case, and gave his reasons 
 clearly why he accepted, or rejected this or 
 that witness's evidence. He wound up with 
 an appeal to the king to protect the interests 
 of his kingdom, and endeavored to show that 
 the best way for him to do so was to protect 
 the white trader. In conclusion, he asked that 
 I be permitted to keep the produce in ques- 
 tion, and that the plaintiff be compelled to 
 pay for its transportation to the place of ship- 
 ment to Bathurst. 
 
 During all this time the king had sat, reclin- 
 ing against the tree, apparently asleep ; but, 
 as soon as Salum had finished, he aroused 
 himself, and began at once to sum up, not 
 the evidence, but the remarks of his chiefs, 
 passing in review their respective opinions. 
 
2 5 6 
 
 REMINISCENCES OF WEST AFRICAN LIFE. 
 
 He dwelt particularly upon the remarks of 
 Kalley Oualley and Salum Jarta, and especial- 
 ly those of the latter. He then gave his judg- 
 ment, which was, that I, the defendant, be 
 allowed to keep the produce in question, and 
 which I had bought and paid for; and that the 
 plaintiff be compelled to pay me suitable dam- 
 ages for the time I had lost in preparing for 
 and attending this trial, said damages to be de- 
 termined by three arbitrators, whom he named. 
 He explained that there could not possibly 
 be any case against me, although there might 
 have been one against those who sold me the 
 nuts. It appeared evident, and it had been 
 proved to his satisfaction, that the plaintiff 
 
 had endeavored to take advantage of his (the 
 king's) stranger, forgetting that he himself, 
 though black, was also a stranger, being a 
 Serra-ouli. For this he must pay a fine of ten 
 slaves, or their equivalent. He then, imme- 
 diately, sent one of his sons to seize the goods 
 of the plaintiff, with instructions not to re- 
 turn anything to any one before he was satis- 
 fied that all the claims arising out of this trial 
 had been fully settled. 
 
 Thus ended my trial at this court on this 
 occasion ; and six days after this, I was back 
 at Yaba-Tenda, shipping away my goods and 
 produce to Bathurst. 
 
ASHES OF ROSES. 
 
 2 57 
 
 GOOD Parson Meek, in name and nature 
 kin, 
 
 The friend of virtue and the foe of sin, 
 In thoughtful mood, by the mellowing light 
 Of a cosy fire, one Saturday night, 
 On an oft-turned text a sermon wrought, 
 Rich in expression and sound in thought, 
 Spreading it forth in the steady glow 
 That warmed his brain and made easy flow 
 Of crowded ideas there, ripe to season 
 His chosen theme, with discursive reason, 
 Appeared on the ruddy-tinted heat, 
 As if traced with the pen on a spotless sheet. 
 At the love of riches, the pomp of show, 
 The parson led off with a weighty blow; 
 At senseless fashion and fickle pleasure 
 He pommelled away in unstinted measure. 
 On speculation and ten per cents, 
 On corners in gold and usurious rents, 
 On trickish traffic and knavish zeal, 
 Indignantly wrathful, he set his heel, 
 Declaring gold the seal of the devil, 
 And the love of riches the root of evil. 
 Thus preached the parson in wrath and ire 
 That Saturday night to his cheerful fire. 
 
 Now, Parson Meek was by no means poor 
 
 In purse or person ; his study floor 
 
 With "Brussels" was spread, and rich and 
 
 rare 
 
 Were the books and pictures gathered there. 
 His house was a model of elegant rest; 
 His table was spread with the choicest and 
 
 best; 
 
 His church was the grandest money could rear, 
 His salary over ten thousand a year; 
 His parish was wealth}', and weekly flocked 
 fn the gayest fashions, at which he mocked. 
 For pomp and vanity, riches and pride, 
 Far reach, far search, on every side, 
 Ne'er could be found so fruitful a source 
 For subject to furnish a rich discourse 
 Than the congregation of once a week 
 In the frescoed church of Parson Meek. 
 
 Yet the parson faltered, and felt a shock, 
 When he turned his thoughts towards his flock, 
 And the full effects of his fierce onslaught 
 Full and clear to his mind were brought; 
 For Brother Blank and Deacon Dash 
 In copper stocks had mined their cash. 
 And Mrs. Zero and sister Nought 
 To lead the fashions long had fought; 
 And 'twas far from wise to strike a blow 
 That might "boomerang" his overthrow. 
 Perhaps he thought of generous hearts, 
 Hidden away under worldly arts, 
 That wrought much good his parish round, 
 Where the suffering poor were often found 
 That flung deep purses at want's demands, 
 Into misery's lap with lavish hands. 
 Perhaps his logic found method whereby 
 His church might pass through the needle's 
 
 eye, 
 
 With riches and worth, and goodness and pride 
 Quite evenly balanced on either side. 
 Whatever the thought, the current turned; 
 No longer indignant his spirit burned, 
 As he sought a text with a milder ring, 
 Home to his people some lesson to bring. 
 His zeal 'gainst riches had cooler grown, 
 And that sermon was preached to the fire alone 
 
 Now, on this f;elf-same Saturday night, 
 
 Fire arose in his crafty might, 
 
 The slave of man threw off his yoke, 
 
 From fettering chains defiant broke, 
 
 And stealthily seizing the sceptre of power, 
 
 The tyrant master ruled the hour. 
 
 With a sneer at the parson's faltering heart, 
 
 Reckless assuming the preacher's art, 
 
 He wrought a sermon so strong and clear, 
 
 That a crowded city quaked with fear, 
 
 And they whom fortune favored most 
 
 Awoke from their dreams to see its ghost 
 
 Vanish in flame. Rich spoils of trade, 
 
 In many a strong-walled fortress laid; 
 
 Vast stores from far-off Eastern lands ; 
 
 Wealthy productions of gifted hands; 
 
2 5 8 
 
 ASHES OF ROSES. 
 
 Cunning machines, by craftsmen reared, 
 In his greedy jaws quick disappeared, 
 
 Whom friendly counsel held alocf 
 
 From the crushing blows of his falling roof. 
 
 And grand old churches, massive and gray, 
 
 The gospel's sentries along the way, 
 
 Reared in love and baptized in prayer, 
 
 With passports of faith to a land more fair, 
 
 Our blessed symbols of trust in God, 
 
 Cowered beneath the fiery rod ; 
 
 And merchant palaces far and wide, 
 
 Towering in beauty, the city's pride, 
 
 Prosperity's roses in gardens of trade, 
 
 By his blasting breath in ashes wera laid. 
 
 Then, glutted with spoils, in sudden wrath 
 
 He sped away on his fiery path, 
 
 And dashed with a roar into labor's nest, 
 
 Where, home returned for Sunday rest, 
 
 The wearied toiler nobly strove 
 
 To keep gaunt want from his home of love; 
 
 Merciless crawled on the rotting floor, 
 
 And snatched the crust from the starving poor 
 
 Wijh fiery fingers beckoned on 
 
 The aged man from his homestead torn, 
 
 Who sought to return, and meet his death 
 
 In the house where first he drew his breath, 
 
 Whom friendly counsel held aloof 
 
 From the crushing blows of his falling roof. 
 
 Up and away on the rushing wind, 
 
 Terror before and blackness behind, 
 Heavy smoke clouds roll across the sky, 
 Hissing brands in thick battalions fly, 
 Shrivelled rafters seething writhe and crawl, 
 Blasted walls in wild confusion fall, 
 Dragging down to a horrible death, 
 Stifling their outcries with blistering breath, 
 The fearless and brave who strove with might, 
 To be crushed at last in unequal fight. 
 Ah, many a wife, in slumbers secure. 
 Shall weep for the mate who comes no more, 
 And many a mother miss from her side 
 The joy of her heart, its love and pride, 
 And many a home in confident rest 
 This night shall rob of its dearest and best. 
 
 Hard was the struggle that Sabbath day 
 To keep the fiery pest at bay, 
 While sickening fear and wild unrest 
 Pierced and tortured the anxious breast; 
 I But stalwart heroes lashed and beat 
 
 The snarling fiend in his last retreat, 
 I Till crushing blows and smothering rain 
 | Drove the slave to his chains again. 
 
 Climbs to the chamber of innocent rest, 
 Wakens the mother and babe on her breast. 
 
WRECKED. 
 
 BANCROFT 
 LIBRARY 
 
ASHES OF ROSES. 
 
 261 
 
 Up, up once more when the night comes down, 
 With thundering roars and a flaming frown, 
 He breaks from his prison and sallies out, 
 Torture and terror to scatter about, 
 Recklessly dashes frail barriers through, 
 And on, dashes on to destruction anew, 
 
 For there is his fate, and he turns aside 
 As the door from its stubborn ho!d is pried. 
 
 Sports with rich treasures of silver and gold, 
 Drags from their slumbers the young and the 
 
 old, 
 
 Climbs to the chamber of innocent rest, 
 Wakens the mother and babe on her breast, 
 Then fiercer and faster dashes along, 
 His revel of ruin to further prolong. 
 But all in vain ; the steady strokes down fall, 
 And well-poised weapons nail him to the wall, 
 
 j While watchful guards the terror hold secure. 
 Once more he's conquered, and the battle's o'er. 
 
 Ashes of Roses! Beauty lies crushed; 
 Into our garden the whirlwind has rushed, 
 Blasting the garners of riches and pride, 
 Breaking the strength that misfortune defied, 
 Rending warm life from the hopeful and brave, 
 Shrouding our joys with the gloom of the 
 
 grave. 
 
 Over the reeking and desolate scene 
 The moon in full glory up rises serene. 
 Through drifting smoke clouds stray beams 
 
 fitful fall 
 
 On broken arch, on black and splintered wall. 
 Strange watch fires flick and glow along the 
 
 street ; 
 
 The trusty guard patrols his measured beat, 
 And tap of drum, quick tramp, and stern com- 
 mand 
 
 Proclaim the presence of a martial band, 
 While far and wide a people sick in sorrow, 
 Anxiously wait the coming of to-morrow. 
 
 To-morrow! ah, yes, it will bring relief, 
 Though its coming perchance be fraught with 
 
 grief; 
 
 For under the embers lie riches in store 
 The anxious merchant-hastes to secure, 
 While doubt and fear assail his breast, 
 As the safe is torn from its fiery rest; 
 For there is his fate, and he turns aside 
 As the door from its stubborn hold is pried; 
 For there are treasures to rear more fair, 
 Or dust and ashes to bring despair. 
 To-morrow may bring to the trouble-tost 
 Glad tidings of joy from the loved and lost; 
 To-morrow may bring hope's cheery beam, 
 And out of the darkness warm light stream; 
 For all is not lost while honor survives, 
 And success oft journeys with him who strives. 
 To-morrow beauty from ashes shall spring, 
 And labor's hammer right merrily ring, 
 And the fiery whirlwind, fierce and vast, 
 Hurried away in the mouldering past. 
 
TRINITY CHURCH AFTER THE FIRE. 
 Sketches amid the ruins of the Boston Fire, by Miss L. B. HUMPHREY.