■!*!!——ii'Ptyi i mm'i hi.. ■■■■■■■
■
GHAFTKR XIII -fCoWTiarao.l
"Ob, If you would?" abe aald, tim
idly.
You have roueed my Intereat," aald
Mr Ht. Cyril, "and her# we are at the
R«-»f Houae. The aervice you have ren
dered ua make# ua like old frlenda;
coma In and let ua hear your atory."
.-irated In the pallor. Ralph began:
"I will not make it a long atory. It
ran juat aa well be told briefly. And
now tnet I rome to think of It, I greatly
wondey that I ahould apeak of It at all.
Jvrhape there may be a fate In It.
Yrar’g'^go, there waa a ahlp wrecked In
a areat atorm. off the harbor of Fort
highly-drawn novels ahe had read, lie
waa gloomy and atern enough for a
hero. He had suffered much In hla
short life, and had struggled hard with
poverty, and hy hla own Indomitable
perseverance bad worked hla way
through college. Hla pride waa strong
even aa Lord Hlltland’s, and bis cun
ning craft unequaled. Far back for
some generations hla ancestors bad be
longed to the gypsy race, and perhaps
to this fact he owed his dark complex
ion, and hla great, passionate, black
eyes.
"HI* gloomy melancholy touched the
sensitive heart of Keglna, and ah# be
gan to be kind to him In various little
way*. Hhe gave him books from the
rare old library, she showed him choice
engravings, she asked his assistance
sometimes In her little flower garden,
and by and by she learned to love him.
I think he, also, In hla cold, rude fash
ion, loved her, but he was too selfishly
calculating ever to fee I a genuine pas
sion. At one time he so wrought upon
her Innocent heart with hfs pitiful story
of wrong and desolation, and his ardent
profession of love, that she gave him
her promise to be hla when she became
of age No sooner had he obtained thla
promise than he began to persecute her.
Ills calls for money were Incessant, and
she. poor girl, waa obliged to supply
them, or to be denounced to her father.
It Is doubtful If the rascal would have
risked going to f,ord Hiltland, but he
held this terror up constantly before Re
gina. And she, from loving him, grew
to loathe him,
"By some mean* unknown to me l^ord
Hiltland discovered the situation of
Mq. No living thin* came ashore from
It but a little child a girl of six or
»' t»n yeara. I waa standing close
dcMriytfjr the water, and the waves cast
her up at my feet. Hhe was uncon
scious, but by proper treatment soon re
covered her faculties, with the excep
tion of her memory. That never re
turned to her. We questioned her
vastly with regard to her previous life.
Hhe remembered nothing. Bven her
oema.had flown from her. My mother
decid' d to adopt her, and she called her
Marina'* because she came to us out of
the mm, I loved her from the moment
the waves had cast her up to me, and
w hen-shp waa of suitable age, I told her
my love, and won from her the sweet
con leaf Ion that it was returned. The
marriage day wss set, the guests were
all In waiting. The bridesmaids went
up to her chamber to call the bride, and
they found her sitting In her chair,
stabbed to the heart.”
A'hbarp spasm of pain stopped his ut
tersJKJf, but he rallied directly and
went on:
"&rQ|mstances led to the discovery
of tWliurderer, though bla motive we
batwnffer known. He Ilea In the Jail a
few rmla from here, under the sentence
of death.”
Cjtovleve bad listened to Mr. Tren
bollvs narrative with strangely eager
InHj^pat, and her brother seemed none
the jess Intent.
VYfyui Ralph paused, 8t. Cyril said:
"WaStfihere no clew, no possible mark,
by whhtb this child, this Marina, might
have peep Identified by her friends If
anyseurvlved?”
“Tee. Upon the right arm, Just above
the wfcpw, there was a small scarlet
cros*. It might have been made there
will! 'some Indelible substance, or It
might have been a birthmark.”
Miss fit. Cyril drew the sleeve away
from her snowy arm, and held It out
to Mr. Trenholme. And he saw, faintly
glowing through the white skin, the
very fac-elmlle of the cross that had
marred the whiteness of Marina’s arm.
He started back, pale and trembling.
“What am I to think?” he said. "You
are tbe same! It la my Marina come
up from the grave, or am I dreaming?”
"Neither,” said Miss 8t. Cyril. “We
■were twin sisters. I and your Marina.”
tilings, and hla wrath was terrible.
Rudolph was kicked from the house
like a dog. and Regina Was sent to the
continent under the care of a paternal
aunt While In Parle, my mother first
met Pierre Bt. Cyril, a young French
naan of noble family and fascinating
personal appearance. The beauty of
Regina attracted him powerfully, and
when he became acquainted with her,
his admiration rapidly deepened Into
love. There seemed, for once, no Im
pediment to the marriage. They were
of equal birth, both were possessed of
a strict senso of honor, and both Were
strikingly handsome.
"Bt. Cyril's only fault—If fault II can
be reckoned - was a severely stern sense
of honor, that could not tolerate for a
moment the semblance of deception.
Although he had been brought up In
the frivolous French capital, his heart
was as pure as that of a little child.
“My mother’s first error lay in the
decision which she took by the advice
of her aunt, not to make Bt. Cyril ac
quainted with the episode touching
John Rudolph. She, to do her justice,
was anxious to speak of It to him, but
her aunt, who was a fashionable,
worldly woman, treated the Idea with
contempt, and won from Regina a prom
ise never to mention the affair to her
lover. The ambitious woman knew
'something of Bt. Cyril’s sensitive tem
! perament, and feared that he might ob
! Ject to taking one whom he knew had
at some time fancied she loved another.
“They were married, and Bt. Cyril
took his wife to his chateau near Au
vergne. They were very happy. Bt.
Cyril was the most devoted of hus
bands; they had abundance of wealth,
and there seemed to be nothing wanting
lie looked at her In silent amazement.
Mr St. Cyril spoke:
*T think Oenle la right. It Is all so
strange. Our search Is ended, then!
But how different from wliat I had
hope#! 'We know her fate; hut she Is
dead gone from ua beyond recall.”
li# bowed hla head upon the tftble
while Oenle laid her arm over his neck
"Biother. we are left to each other
And the fault was none of ours."
"True, l.have much to be thankful
for. Mr. Trenholute, you are wonder
In* over much that you do not under
stand My slater and myself came to
thla country, not on a pleasure trip.
I)ltt in obedience to a sacred promise
given to the dying If you have time to
spare I will make you acquainted with
the edddeet part of our family history
J wlU tell you why Kvangellne St. Cyril
wsapn the ship which waa wrecked "
"Thank you.” reapunded tta'ph ”1
nn> nil attention. I have longed all my
life that the mystery might be solved
.Would to Uod that she could have lived
to see this day!”
CIIACTKH XIV.
I Ol! must know,"
began Mi IN
"that tuy mother
• as the second
daughter at lawd
Charles Mill laud
an Knglisbmau o:
targe eatatee and
unbounded pride
She was puseesen
of uaromiHoi
, — boauty and earl;
|a life dev* oped lentenkatde powers »
fast mat ••• She sa* educated will
grant care and no pain* wete spared i<
Utah* her as «rt omplished w she *a>
lovely Mil had two staler* anil om<
hrothei
Wh>' Hegtn* for that waa m:
giothet * name a as about atateog, I her
same to Mdilaud Manor a young mai
gamed Iom» Nudotph lie ram# a» i
IWt of tut. tu an orphan nephew a
I ,ud Mil tin* i * whom he had adopt*,
late the tnwit. Hudniph was Juei lb
ggyt of • perse., to attract the fancy o
g reman n ptMisg girl nhoon ogl
gtimpoo of *tfo bn I kwi through th
IU ' umjtirir i ii* ii I UI1U-III, At dig* CQU
of two year* I Wa* there. I think It wit*
about thl* time that my mother’# real
trouble began. Rudolph nought her
I out. Hy nome mean# he hail managed
i to uncertain that Mr. St. Cyril had been
kept lu Ignorance of their old low af
fair. and rightly judging that my
mother would aacrittee much before ahe
would now have It revealed, he came
to her, and threatened her with expo
aura, If she did not at once deliver uvei
to him u certain mini of money. My
I mother wa* terribly frightened, and ahe
gave Rudolph all the ready money *h*
| poaneaaed Kor a while lie left her iu
| peace hut not for long The dlaai
1 pated life lie led demanded large *um*
I of money, and he wa* too Indolent to
work, when It could lie obtained lu any
way Ilia calla upon my mother be
came very frequent She did Iter lieat
to aatlafy them She Mild all her Jew
el# an<l little trinket# which t would
turn for money and gave him the pro
I c«hs,|* Rut the more ahe aarrlttced for
i him, the mure graaplng and arrogant he
became He aaked her twice for money
w hen *he had nuthiitg to glee lie eug
geated bar buahand a desk He knew
j St Cyril kept by him large eunia of
; money and the could enall) abettacl
wbat be eauted wit hunt tielng wla
troated Thte my utolher perempto
• II* refund to do She would run all
j rleha r**b** *h**» eteal from thta maa
who oted and trHated her Nudulph
went away In Set •> anger, vuwiag »*n
i gean< a
VImui ihie tin** twin* were born te
I i my pnient* two gtrie They were
i named Rvangeitn* and tlenevteve, and
i upon the itwt of each of them there
i eaa a faint amulet < roea o hlnh mark
i i When the#* children w#r« fuut month*
eld, the nurae took them out fair their
airing one day In a luce nirtai* and
i while ehe left them a moment to apeoh
i to • friend Ktangellno wwe etolen front
k the atde of he* atater The lerrlSed
I nurae horn nothing beyond Ike foci
t 11 hat alia hod left thorn far a moment h»
* the aide of e toon a>u In the public gar
I dene * ad on returning to take thew
> away, had found onlr tlenevto**
r * heaagaltna *«• gone'
"My mother was distracted! The
shock threw her Into a fever, and In her
delirious ravings my father learned ths
whole story. Nothing watt kept back.
He knew that she had loved Rudolph—
that she had deceived him every day
since their marriage, and that tbla mi
scrupulous ntan had visited her several
times since their residence at Auvsrgne.
He was a proud ami painfully sensitive
man, and his whole soul whs outraged.
He fancied himself the most bitterly
wronged of all the human race. He
grew cruel and retentions toward the
woman he had so loved. When at lust
she returned to consciousness, tdie
found herself deserted by her husband.
He had gone to the east, he said In a
brief epistle which he left behind him;
he knew everything. He never wished
to !ook upon her face again. He had
left ample provision for her, and begged
her to bring up her children In the path*
of virtue and honor.
"This was a terrible blow to my
mother, but her affection for her chil
dren, and the care she was obliged to
bestow on them, kept her up. She
made evsry effort In her power to as
certain the fate of her lost Kvangellne,
but vainly. She never heard from or
saw John Rudolph for ten years, She
wrote to her husband, putting aside all
her pride for her child’s sake wrote to
entreat him to try and find the lost girl;
but If the letter ever reached him he
gave It no heed It was never replied to.
Tka*. .k. enHiltail in lvee rallies!* In It'll it
land. But he was a stern old men. and 1
he fancied his pride Injurled and his |
house dishonored by the fact that his ;
daughter had been deserted by her hus
band, and be refused to take any step
In the matter. Ho my poor mother was ;
left desolate Nothing. I think, but her
strong love for flenle and myself kept I
her sllve.
"Ten years after Kva was stolen, lute j
one evening there came to our house a i
tall, dark man, whom I now know was \
John Rudolph. He was closeted a long {
time with my mother, and when she
came out her face was paler thut It*
wont, and her eyea were red with weep
ing. Then 1 did not know wherefore,
but now I know that he had come to tell
her that Kva still lived; that she was In
America, and that If she would raise
him a certain sum he would reveal the
child's exact whereabout*. This condi
tion she could not comply with, and be
left her In a rage.
"1 think the constant worry about
this missing child wore out my mother's
life. Her days were shortened by It.
Two year* ago she received a letter
from my father. He waa lying on bis
death-bed, In an obscure Russian vil
lage. He confessed how much be bad
wronged her. expresaed a sincere re
pentance. and begged her to come to
him. He longed so Inexpressibly for a
sight of her face. Hbe was not really
able to undertake the journey, but could
not be dissuaded from attempting It. I
went with her. We found my father
just on the borders of the mystic river,
but waiting to see her ere he crossed
over.
"It was a solemn scene. He lay on a
great bed, heavily curtained, In a lofty
room, gloomy with shadows; bis face
as white us marble, but for the hectic
flushes In his cheek*. His great, eager
eyes were fastened upon the door by
which we entered he was watching for
her to come. He started up at the
sound of her footstep, and extended his
feeble arms.
•• ‘O Regina! O Regina!’ he cried, pltl
fiily, 'you have come at laat!’
"She went forward, and lifted his
head to her bosom, and put her face
against bis. She did not weep, but
shook like an aspen, and grew so very
white that I feared It would be too much
for her.
" ‘Will you forgive me?" he cried. 'O,
I have wronsed you so deenly! If you
had only told me all that at the very
find!’
" 'I know, Pierre, I sinned then; but
they persuaded me It would be best.
And afterward, I feared to lose your
love. We have bath erred: let us mu
tually forgive.’
to ns roTTimtu >
HIS WIFE WAS BALKY.
U liru Nils Wm Mill lira lo a Plow Mi*
to I’ull.
A young man with a long, worn out
Prime Albert coat and a pair of pur
ple pants tm ked Into his lioots that
were incased in mini, walked Into ven
tral station this morning says the
Mmtavllle Post, and aaked
“Are thar 'ary reporter here’"
“Yes," answered f'aptaln Itaslef.
"Hit re’s about four here "
“Well, I’m the feller what Imughl a
wife for 17 laet week, and she wouldn't
work.'1 replied tliu l(ui>et “and I got er
•llvorve to get Theae here papers have
j writ me up wrong, an' I want er her
rewttM"
"All right. " repllevl Ihe Post report- i
erf “I'll make you a vorevtlon la’t'a ,
have your statement."
"Now, you write It down Just 4* | ]
•ay It," replied the louutryman
Ills •tatemest wae aa follows'
"The halky wile the wife of Juhltnl#
Huawder. the daughter of A J t’blldere
has sued for s divorce tier father
1 cvesisirittlwt her as a |tssl war her
• hen I I tough t her, end when I hits bed
her tn the plow she felled to pull and
balked lies father rum* over • here
we wsa at and offered ht> mule but I
object'd, aa the mule looked Isis f
thought I would trv her c little longer,
hut she ...II failed I offered In tabs
ihe old sms • wife as sh* was ths
j best trained
The old woman i* d vents eld You
i could nut espeai my wile <0 work ns
good as S woman With seventeen yearn
training The old man would am trade
1 *a I mada him lake kl* girl ba> k VY •»
i parted good friends and I will take her
bark trained In n few necks end per
double price fur her The eld meg's
piece us the threaten street pthn te good
I and ks kss ihirtv nine acres “
| ANCIENT RACE OF INDIAN S
/mil In not the liUMeeanlble plm’e it
wan wlii'ii Frank Fuelling tlrnt wrote
of It. It lien forty miles noutli of tinl
lup. a miiihII town on the Santa Fe
route~fln eaay day’* drive.
The rofld rlnen nlendlly for I lie tlrnt i
tirteeii mlli'M and leaven behind it dry
lillln mid I Mirren noil with the lower
altitude*. At an elevation of alnnit
K.inm feet the trail on tern upon i nil
peril region of pine forent, gloiioun In
Augunt. with wild antern. nimtlow<*rn.
grain Ilia gram and wild oatn. Tile i
I'll I tin had been nhuudnut. and the
whole phileiiu wan dellHoitnly green
mid fragratii.
At iiIhiiiI I o'clock We begun to <l«
neeud. Mullen ihhkened urou idn u
nnd the nwalen lieemne naiidy wanlea.
\ thunder aturm win* eranhlnc around
Zmil an we came In night of It, a fd
low-brown inotmd In the center of a
wide valley. Coming freah from Wal
pi. with Itn rugged walla and preelp
lloun trolln. my tlrnt gllrnpne of /uni
wan a dlniippolntiiieiil. Then, too,
ruahlug had left *tK'h an Impiennloo
ruut Girl anil Child.
on my miiui of Hh remoteness and in*
accessibility. I was scarcely aide, for
the moment, to Itelleve that this vil
lage in the valley was really the scene
of hlf culling discoveries.
We paused Ity a ruined town on the
right; and, farther on, a high mesa,
almost as Inaccessible as the enchant
ed mesa at Avoma, was pointed out to
me as the site of ancient /mil. In
fact, the whole land, from /mil to So
corro is full of these dead cities
While it Is probably true tliat there
never was an Immense number of peo- {
pie living In any of these valleys; still,
one cannot but feel that a busy and
numerous population lias been at work
here for centuries struggling against
drought and savage neighbors, patient,
primitive.
As we approached the town It looked
silent, deserted. There were few peo
ple or uiilmuls to lie seen.
Zuui sits beshle a shallow river,
which crawls silently over the sand
like a flattened serpent. We crossed
the stream and drew up at a long,
low building, built of stone, conform
ing In general type, to the Pueblo ar- 1
clilteeture. This was the lleniluway
hemhiuarters wherein Cushing and his i
successors lived anil worked during
their studies and excavations. It Is
occupied at present by Mr. D. P. Ora
ham, the trader, who welcomed us at
the door and made us comfortable for
the night. The thunderstorm boomed
aronnd the cliffs, but did not cover the
village, and the sun sank In a most
gorgeous and splendid Illumination of
clouds.
Mr. tirahnui explained to us the con
dition of affairs. The ncoidc were all
at tlielr summer villages, Nut rid. OJo,
Callente and el*ewhere, and only a
few of the women and half a dozen
old men remained In town. He walked
with 11a over to the village after sup
per and allowed ua the door* sealed up
and the windows plastered over—
elosisl a* If for a lifetime. The bridge
whh h crosses the river Is a primitive
allnlr at best, hut the city council has
taken the plank* up for fear they
might get washed away during their
absence .and It wan rather skittish
crossing. I saw several women come
down to the hank, roll up tlielr leg
gtu* aud wade across, rather than
trust to the bridge.
The illlage, aa It ntands. covers
shout leu acres, and la built In the
usual manner of a pueblo, one at >ry
alsive another, the roof of one serving
as the dooryurd of the one above, etc.
There are a little plaza and a ruined
church near It. and a minute grave
yard where the people are hurled so
thickly every burial ezhumes half a
dozen others. The men lie all on oue
side, the women on the other.
Ulie ■■urioUM dev elopmellt, w hich I
(ttd 1101 see at the other pueblos, was
tiie plat of liny gardens south of the
building* Knelt little garden was
surrounded by a mud wall, aud was
laid out In little aipinre beds a foot or
two In diameter, each 1**1 with a liny
dike around it These gardens of on
ton*, chile Slid lieaus, were watered
by the women who carried water
IMfk UMM I
fi»«M i In rim •>« *»*«*»* »»•<••>* tu irMi
)«.» | In i» »rr» »k*M*<i*M »l !»«••«. Ill
Ik* l«l itnkM l»l*ll mmII **H
Mill iHlolull) I •»«•*! MU <*l*k 4 HI*
Hi 1.1. Mikk* tiul ii»M*k**iii«** MM
..Ut.ilMI.- I .lUlr‘*MU* >' MkMk MMMI
MW Wll mm hfikur • ilMH* l« full «t*
l*< .|"»U
I Wi n< KM liHikMiWi* |i' |4i' *»M
th- imiWr of .«»*irw ikri «I*m« i.»
■ ,4.1 immMm rM mm I tank >«n*l *«■! *»«♦**
IM Hklil IM llll»*M>«» lll*rv Ik I gt.1‘1
ml ut.. Ill \H»fliM t l‘»*U IV. 1*411 M
ltW< Ikklulrl* MMlI MMM>*t*l**MkK» »*t • %
UHffl Ok **>• H* • * '«»< ’
Mr.Graham speaks their language
fluently and knows them Intimately.
He wan here liefoie Cushing. A» the
dusk fell upon the green uml yellow
plaza and the turkey* gobbled ulsmt
us. he told us many things of the |h*o
ple and their way*.
"They are aun-worshiper*," he said.
"Sometimes 1 see them ns they come
out to Hprliikle meat at sunrise. They
como and pray to the water at night
and si ntier meat upon If. They an* a
curious people no doubt of that. See
that little heap of stones Just beyond
my barn? That was put there to mark
the renter of ilu* world."
"That's primitive enough. I'm sure.”
“Ob. I don't know There nre a
hundred town* that think they are the
renter of tin* earth. The psychology
of the Zunl Isn’t so widely different
from that of some theologians."
The doctor asked: "Are they In
creasing In number*'/"
I 1,111IIK MM'* iri/ niww./, ]
tllOllgll."
•'I* there nun'll aleknes* among
theu»r’
"Not nmi'li, Ii'mm ilinn you would ex
|ieel, I,ink of fond a lid tied ventlln
tIon nre their chief enemies. They're
pretty good doctor*; they keep pretty
clone to the ln»t rock Ifliil herb treat
incut. I think, lu spite of nil, they
hold I heir own."
TlnViext niornliig, a* wc atarted to
wn rd I lie village, we met a bright
looking mini of middle age. who greet
ed ua in a »ort of Kiigllsh. We fell
Into talk with him and found him lo
tie qulek-wltted and courteoua. lie j
became our guide lu our round of the
village,
"Where are you from?" lie nuked. a»
we walked toward the bridge.
"Washington," we replied, because,
to an Indian, any place lu the Kind la
Washington
"Mis' tttlm'aon, you know her?” he ,
asked.
"Htlinpaon? No. I'm afraid not,"
aald the tloctor.
"Mis’ Hlra’aou, she my flletid. Hhe
live my house. Hhe aetid roe letter."
"He mean* mean* Mr*. Htevenaon,
who write* on Pueblo matters," *ald
the doctor. “Yea, we know of Mr*.
Bteveu*on."
"Hhe good woman. Hhe my flletid. |
Hhe know Cushing. You know Cush
ing? He come, dig, Hud much bat
tery.”
I’p lo the village we found a few |
people stirring, but mulnly the houses
were closed. Dick took u* Into hi*
own house llrst, a nicely whitewashed
room, with some American furniture. ,
"Take chair,” Pick Insisted, and
would not let the doctor sit on a Ini*.
He won proud of Ills chairs
Pick's little children were bright lit- j
tie scamps, with consldernble Zunl
soil on them good, wholesome dirt,
however. Pick took us back through
small doors Into Inner rooms, store
rooms, dimly lighted ,uml showed us
old, old treasures. An old war club,
of which he said:
“Ixmg time ago Navajo him bad;
him fight Zunl. Kb war chief he make
urn club. Mcbhe so bit Navajo.” He
handed us the club to look at. “No
use ’em uny more. Navajo no fight
Zunl any more. Alle same trade.”
There were also the ceremonial
dresses which the men ami women use
In their fiances, and old hunting fe
tiches and old bowls. "Too old,” Dick
called them when be showed them to
us, meaning, of course, very old. Cu
rious places, these store houses, full
•V
A Kuril Mother.
of thing* which epitomized an Im
mense iieriod of their live*.
When we Haw ho few men lu the vil
lage we naid:
“Dick, why aren’t you out farming?"
He laughed. "Me no farm. Me ail
time make bmdH." He watt an artlHan.
not a common baud.
‘Tx*t me nee you make l>ead*.”
He took um hack Into the main living
room, and there he htUi out a bos of
ahellH, a little bag of tunpintie, a Ihix
of little disks > hipped out of sheila,
aud a drill of his own fashioning He
chipped a dink with IiIh pinchers. Then
with the ctirlouK nnd very well work
tug drill he laired a hole lu the dink.
He vyhh very adroit uml proud of hla
trade.
"Navajo like ’uiu; trade blanket*,
pay »lu airing."
We went Into other buuaea, for when
\ It wa* known that we were buying
I (lottery and that we Itml candy f<r the
cbtldreu. the pen)lie cattle over the
hnuactopa like gtui la acroaa I tie rockH.
aaklug it* to come and gee what tiicy
Had There were a few plump, laugh
mg girl*, aoiue old men and the real
were women of middle age.
We Haw Dick's father. »o crippled
tiiat he walk* on hi* Irnuda, dragging
IiIh |ega along the grouud He had a
resolute, iublllgeni and uttcomplaltt
tllg (ace Me nawr a 111 It** an k labjr,
look lug pathetically wan ami limp,
and a girt with a Wily burned font.
In one home we came uuuu an old
woman, old a# a gray boulder. *4d and
ihia aa a gnarled dead gray >-edar irwc.
Me- aal by the op. it ilwr and heM her
head In the aireauiiug glory of un*rti
lag auuahiiie nbe had hut one gar
meat. and her >kinuy arum ami leg*
looked barely Uomaii
I U>ushi a la.wi wihicb «at heaide liar
ami tml tin- money mio her hand and
the tin* tor gave her a**me . audy
She lifted her head aa though this
Munsoal khotneaa »it given lot new
life, and (veered at u* a* If ahe would
i<oiooi(hi w* forever Mhe lifted hey
hand to t«e inakric and I abo»h ll am)
aikl *Muy ho She then klaaetl her
hand to UA lu token of hel atalliude
to the airangv while men who had
done what bet •>■«* had proltaMy »*v
<r done, tememheted ker age ki her
mmoi fm that ia a *trwsgt thing
among iheae gen.nilv hind peopW »
the .>id are neglected
Ah, but they are poor. A« we went
through their home*. buying a Uttla
pottery, we saw nil their poor, pathet
ic possession*. Their bowls and blank
ets, their extra robes, their one or two
battered chairs, the copper lithograph*
on the walls, the children robed in old
salt sacks—and yet men plan to rob
them! Men want' to take their land,
to grow fat off their trnde. No won
der the white men are wolves to them.
I .a st year they had no crop. They
were forced to eat their faithful bur
ros, their dogs. They were forced to
sell everything that men would pay S
cents for. and they sat In their cheer
less houses and endured hunger and
cold with the patience of martyrs. And
the white people sat by and saw It
and did little. One tnnn-everlasting
shame to him gave an old man copper
cents for necklaces and told him they
would buy a Iwg of flour. Hueh ara
the talcs they tell of greed.
This year they have a good crop and
f—
A Caal Doorstep.
so they are smiling. I should like to
have seen them when they came to
gether for their harvest home danee
and festival.
As we eame to say good-by to Dick
I said: i
“Dick, I’ll send you some shells wfcffh
I get back. Mebbe so ten days and
ten days. Melds* so one month."
"Good,” said Dick. "Me need much
shells. Make 'em beads. Hdl 'em
Navajo*."
“All right, I’ll send some.”
"One time," began Dick, Impiesslva
ly, “man say me send ’em shell*. Ms
go home, me send ’em shells." A
pause. "He liar. Ho no send ’em
shell*.’’
There waa uo misunderstanding thl*
broad bint, and I Joined the doctor In
the la ugh.
••Well, Dick, you see, I am no liar.”
I understood the other man’s case.
Home one had said on the Impulse:
“I'll send you some shells, Dick,” and
then bad forgotten it In the complexity
of his city life. Hut there Is no com
plexlty In Dick’s life and be yemem
her* every word the white man speaks.
I sent those shells, and I would hav#
done It at any cost. 1 could not bavs
Dick's An-tennlhi think me a H»r. A
man should keep his lightest promise
with an Indian.
Looking back on Zunl. I saw once
more how It secretes Itself on the
plain. It lay behind us there, a low,
red hill In the midst of the wide, sun
filled valley. Around It purple sand#
lay, and a slow river crawled by It
Par away on all sides, great mesas
towered a thousand reet a wove iuf
valley door.
As we rose we came again to radiant
vistas of sunflowers, whlrb ran to v
great scooped and car veil walls of
sandstone. 1'lne trees lasgau again,
aud grass and flowers, a beautiful
wilderness.
We spent the night in the camp of a
trader alaiut twelve mill* from Zunl.
We were awake at the dawn, and saw
the sun blaze Into sudden splendor In
the heavens. All through the cold,
white half-light a coyote cried, utter
ing a liquid, whistling wall, so sweet
aud wild It made that dawn forever
memorable to me.
A young Flu cooked our breakfast, a
Siuni helped him, a Navajo horseman
wnlted outside. Columbia college was
represented In the doctor, who was
studying the ancient photographs on
the rocks, and I—I listened In ecstacy
to the mystic, shrill wail of the coyote
and watched the sun flare up the sky,
and thought of this wonderful routing
together of men In the hush.—Hamlin
Uarlaud. In Detroit Free Press.
A Wav »• Itaklag the ‘■fleereher’’ et
Some Use
Among recent developments to which
the widespread use of the bicycle has
led Is a machine for enabling the cy
clist to train or rake his exerelae In
doors In laid weather. The rider sits
on ilie saddle nnd works the pedals
in the usual way, and while the wheels
revolve, their force Is expanded on
tlie turning of on endless ls*ll, and Ihe <
bicycle never moves from the spot.
It lias occurred to a French electrlctnu
that some useful work can tie done
at the sam* time He has ucmrdPtgly
designed ait apparatus In whlcte the
driving wheel of a safety bicycle of
the usual type Is raised froth the floor,
and. h.v means of a strap aud speed
gearing, made to drive a small dyna
mo. which i» sed to charge areumu
lators. tills Idea of turning exercise
into a useful pnslucl outside of Its
own s|s‘ctal |sir|HMe Is capable of
W m I >i I t. Ill lilies tlldlttiuut (kf It
will ho raadlly nnut’inU-ml, Nauaau.
lu tlttln* out tho Kraiu for hla mall
AiMk' aspmlitloii, bad a oupaiau
plat mI on lin k, iba abaft of whbb waa
oiiiiim'ImI by *o*rtuu with the ahlpa
tl>irnuio TV nbjM’1 of ihta waa that
lu tho but* dark wluior of iba polar
rwftoka, lit* tr.-w ahooUi ttalyy lakr
lb* *»tr«ia* uwtlol fur I ton I lb, b)
tlolu* ibolr ahlft al Iba oa|ait*u, ami
al tha aauta lliua *«ltorato Iba ala<>
irlvll* Itniiail for IlabllitK lb« abl|t
la aoutr Ku* I lab pnaoua, wbara Iba
•■Marat ilwltwi from Iba wwkiai of
Iba lliwdlulH by thaivurlota Itla atlb
atlu I watt InauRli b>ully uhlamt. It la
MOW |tro|«.#od lit luru It ta Iba tfawara
ll«u of t ie* tft.lt) fur Iba
IwtiUllHaa, makiu* iba prtauw tadua
lrt*« iitor* ramimarailta, aud gl«bi«
Iba IM toMifia » iralulit* wbi.'u ill;
amt bio i bom lu II) a hoimwtly Wttau
Iba) ara dl*. hurtful
kuddy Whal a Mb.w tVava* tat
Haally. I dott‘1 ballaya ba kuawa fcl*
ofH mlml ^k
Itltddy Watt, do*'i rum thtuh ka it I
la ba Mummlwtaiad) fcurh a mlmt a* ]
ba baa .aum.' It* a *#ry dttf* a hla at
.inalatam* tt-.ai m T«*tta>mo
i
i
