Evening Star Newspaper, November 3, 1894, Page 21

HE ICE KING WINS The Wellman Party Abandons the Struggle to Reach the North. TAREE DAYS OF ROUGH EXPERIENCE Disappointment That the Order to Retreat Was Necessary. ARCTIC OUTING COMFORT ighted, 1 Walter Wellman. All opr 1894, by rights REPS ISLAND, July 4, 1894 camp at the northern end of the island, which les between the mainland and the Reps. This sland, rarely if ever visited by man, we named Walsh tsiand. ‘There we were made to feel that the face of na- ture is not always frowning, even in the arctics. A finer sum- mer camp than we had on the gravelly beach of the island it would be difficult to find anywhere in the world. There was sand to pitch our tents and lay our sleeping bags upon, running water from the melting glaciers, eider ducks in a little lake near by and vast quantities of driftwood so broken up by the waves that the use of an ax was not necessary to make it ready for our campfires. Nothing but shade from the hot rays of the sun was needed to complete the picture of outing comfort,and as there is not @ tree in all Spitzberggn we were forced to find relief from the bright glare on sunny days underneath our tents. The eight days passed here waiting for the southerly wind which we hoped would clear away the rough fee and give us boating water farther north were days of rest and comfort. Our hunters quickly brought in a couple of reindeer, and we gunned day and night tor the big fat elder ducks in the tide hole near by. At first these ducks would sit quietly on the water while we walked up and shot them. They were not acquainted with the destructive animal, man, and the murderous methods employed by him in satisfying the demands of appetite. But they learned fast enough. There is no more experienced or artful duck hunter than our Mr. Dodge. He ‘now's all the tricks and wiles of the sport. But he declares these elder ducks of the Barriers of Ice. untraversed north, after a single day's qharpening of their wits, can give the Po: river ducks cards and spades and beat them at their own game, and the cute- ness of the Potomac ducks he veraciously illustrates by the story that they post sen- tries at the railway station in Washington to give them timeiy warning whenever a of gunners take train for the marshes. till we do get a few ducks, and as they weigh from four to five pounds apiece and are as good as canvasbacks at $ a pair life in the arctics has some compensations after The Bird Thiet Joe. We try to live as far as possible upon the country. Away up here near the top of the globe—so near its apex that the distance @round the world in this latitude is only 8,600 miles—we see how nature has ordained that the superior animal shall feed upon the Inferior. The lazy seal feeds upon the medusae of the sea; the sneaky ice bear lives upon the seal and a reindeer when he can catch one, and here comes all conquer- ing man to fill his pots with bear and veni- gon. Even the birds prey upon one ancther. Where is a bird up here called “Thief Joe.’ lo is big, black, fierce, piratical. His vorite amusement is pursuit of the ice moosa, the beautifully plumed and ideally graceful gull of the arctics. Round and round and up and down they gail, pursued and pursuer, the former utter- ing shrill cries of terror and the latter shrieking with ghoulish glee. In vain does the white gull endeavor to shake off her enemy. Now and then his sharp bill reach- es her body and gives her a savage thrust, when her cries are pitiful indeed. The re- sult of the unequal contest is that the moosa either drops the morsel of food which she has been carrying and makes her while “Thief Joe” pauses to devour it, or she sinks exhausted to the ice and falls a victim to her relentless Nemesis. The good Dr. Mohun’s sympathies have been so sharply roused by these conquests that he says he ts going to stop in England on his way home and organize a society for the amelioration of the condition of the un- fortunate ice moosa of Spitzbergen. While at Walsh Island we tightened up the rivets tn our aluminium boats. These eraft are in surprisingly good condition, fades the usage they have had. The wood, built of 3-16 inch aluminium alloy, is as tight as a drum, and ready for another battle with the ice. The Parry, of thinner and softer metal, leaks a little, but can be easily repaired. While going through the rough ice we have seen the sides of the Parry move in and then out again in waves, the result of pressure of ard pieces against her plating. While some of the plating has bent, it is all in- tact, and only the seams have suffered. An —— —— boat would have been splintered by the usage which these craft have admirably withstood. ei We all wear just such clothing as we wear at home spring and fali—thick woolen underwear, strong boots, a “sweater™ and common coat, vest and trousers. For two weeks we have had no use for gloves or mittens, and could always have man- aged to do without them, for the lowest temperature we have seen is 11 degrees F., not below zero, but above. The mean temperature is about the freezing point, but the thermometer often rises to 40 or 60 degrees in the shade, and once registered as high as 58 degrees. The arctic sum- mer is simply delightful If the wind does not blow. For windy weather we find much comfort in light suits of gabardine made for us in London. They are better than furs for keeping out the blasts that eome over the wastes of ice and snow, and in wet weather are as nearly waterproof as one wishes. Not being absolutely water- proof, they are self-ventilating and there fore ideal garments for use in this climate. A Desperate Chance. Our hope that a south wind would move the rough ice off the shore and enable us to make a northerly advance in ice-free water proved futile. Once, indeed, a nar- row strip of water did show ttself between the land and the pack, but it gradually closed up again, to our intense disappoint- ment. June closed with fifty hours of strong wind from the south and southwest, just the wind we had been waiting for. jut the ice did not even move. It hugged the shore with provoking persistency, and every day getting in worse condition the pools between the high pieces soft- ened and melted. We then percelyed that if anything at all were to be accompitshed 4t must be by literally crawling over the ist ice and through the pools of slush twas a desperate chance that anything could be done in this way, but that cha: we resolved to take. Preparations wer made for the last desperate struggle toward the north by fitting out the Lockwood and ROM JUNE 2 TO | Bere 1 we were in - THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, NOVEMBER -8, 1894—TWENTY-FOUR PAGES. 21 ounce of weight that could dispensed with, and taking fuel and pro- visions for seventy days. The Parry was left behind with Dr. Mehun and three men, under orders to wait a week, and then make their way back to Walden Island. Great was the disappointment of the men who were assigned to stay behind. Unpromising as was the effort to push far north, every man in the party wanted to go with the Lockwood. So we bade good-bye to our comrades of the Parry crew, hauied our boat and two sledges to the edge of the tide hole and embarked. If you had seen the little Lock- ‘wood as we set out, you would have said we were foolhardy to venture from the The Impassable Road. shore in her. First, sae nad been stowed with the sleeping bags, extra clothing bags, cooking apparatus, alcohol case, awning, weapons, instruments and a great veriety of articles indispensable to a trip of this sort, Before a man set foot in the boat she was comfortably full, her three thwarts being completely covered and her water- tight compartments piled high with freight It was difficult to see how a man was to find room in her, and yet eight men did find places to squeeze themselves in, «nd we soon had an opportunity to observe how good a sailer the Lockwood is. Though very top-heavy, and with our two alum- @ crew of eight men, cutting off’ evary | maelstrom of crushing, sawing ice, through possibly be| which even a man could not make his way. Fourth of July Supper. In an effort te make cur way to Walsh Island Capt. Pedersen and I took a long detour to tne west. Even this did not ob- viate the difficulty and danger which we had feared. An east wind was driving the pack ice into the strait, with the pressure of mile upon mile and billion upon billion of tons of Ice outside for a sledge hammer. After crossing a large number of channels from four to ten feet wide, where the shore ice had split unde. the pressure, we made an effort to short-cut across the west- erly end of the ‘moving pack. Much of the ice was rotten and was in process of disintegration under the enormous pressure -to which it was being subject We traveled rod after rod of the road, which, under ordinary circum- stances, we should not have attempted at all. In an emergency like ‘this we could not afford to be too particular. At every step we felt the ice giving way underneath us. Now and then we had to wade up to our knees, our feet upon a quivering floor that was submerged by heavier ones resting upon its margin. This was not so bad when the ice under us felt thick and solid, but ticklish work it was when the footing con- sisted of nothing but perpendicular columns of ice perhaps a foot high, the honeycomb left by the wearing away of the ice in the tide rip of the strait. After an hour’s work Capt. Pedersen and I, the captain wet to the skin, but the writer fortunately dry above the knees, reached the fast ice, and made our way as rapidly as possible back to Cape Scott, whither our mer had already drawn the sledges and the Lockwood. They had made camp and got ready an extra good Fourth of July supper, and right glad were we to sit down by a blazing driftwood fire and change our wet wear for dry ones, and fill ourselves with rich soup, bacon, biscuit, cooked apples and tea. After our big supper we celebrated Inde- pendence day by hoisting the American flag on Cape Scott and serving the men a round of brandy. WALTER WELLMAN, ee KISSING AND HYGIENE. injum sledges towed behind, she rode the | The Custom is Condemned on Sanitary waves as gracefully as an cider duck. A Three-Dayw’ Struggle. The first day out we had a fine example of what we could do in the way of travel amid reasonably favorable conditions. In two hours, with wind and tide against us, we rowed two miles to the northeast. In three hours more over the smooth ice In the lee of the’ Reps Islands, we pulled our 2.300 pounds at one load and made two miles more. With some good ice like this, some leads of water to boat through and a fair share of rough ice to get over we could easily make from ten tc twenty miles a day. Were we now upon the main or true polar pack we venture to say we could average a dozen miles a day, and forty days of such travel would enrry us very near to the north We see now more clearly than ever fe what a fine chance we have lost by the radical change which came over the sea- son in May. Had the winds been from the northeast, as they usually are In this region in eaciy simmer, thirty or forty days ago we might have enjoyed Parry's experience of boating through the drift ice to the heavier floes farther north. But the north- west winds have piled the winter ice in hopeless confusion upon all this coast. We cannot create conditions, but only struggle against them. For three days we threw our strength against the tce wall which we found barring the way to the north. For three days we worked as we had never worked before. No words of mine will serve to give you an adequate conception of the nature of that hopeless struggle. In an hour after we had left the shore of the Reps every man in the party realized that we were attempting the im- possible. Near the coast the ice ts piled twenty or thirty feet high. To get over these obstructions we had to lift the boat by inain strength. Often it was necessary to get out the block and tackle and advance by inches. As soon as we get over one of these barriers we find ourselves in a pocket of loose ice and water. There is not water enough to push the boat through nor ice enough for the men to find footing upon. It Is mere sludge, neither the one thing ror the other. The men cannot cross ahead of the boat with a line for fear cf falling in and drownirg before assistance can reach them. But why gtve further details of our three days’ vain struggle against the obstacles which confronted us? It is not necessary to repeat dver and over the story of lifting, tugging, straining, slipping, ducking, and, now and then, it must be confessed, swear- ing. In three days of this kind of work we had advanced less than three miles. The only excuse for persistence was the hope that the nature of the read would soon im- prove, but even this hope was quickly dash- ed to earth, for an exploring party, sent on ahead, had picked its way from piece to piece for a couple of miles, ferried them- selves across the pools upon larger spect- mens of the debris at the risk of their lives and returned to report the road the same as far as they had gone or could see. A Discouraging Sight. Prof. French and I had with great difm- culty made our way to the northern end of the Reps Island, where a bold cape was named in honor of Philip D. Armour of Chicago—Cape Armour. We ascended the headland there to a height of 1,000 feet and had the whole Spitzbergen coast, from the Seven Islands to Brooch Island, within view. It was a most discouraging scene that met our eyes as we meved our glass from right to left—nothing but Ice in every direction, not a drop of open water to be seen. It was ice that had been broken up and jamme together in a series of storms until not a piece of level surface larger than a bedchamber remained. The day was clear, and with the glass we could see a long distance in every direction. Everywhere it was the same, and that same as bad as bad could be, everywhere the same high barriers alternating with sludgy pools through which we had been struggling. We could not fail to understand the significance of this view. Its meaning was defeat, the absolute impossibility of Progress to the north, bitter disappoint- ment for every man in the party; but this is the fortune of war. Though we could organize one of the best parties that ever attempted arctic work, with an equipment more perfect and adaptable than was ever before employed, we must bow to the ob- stacles which nature has placed in our way. ‘We have run against a stone wall and are not foolish enough to beat our brains out against it. There are seasons in which a Party like ours would be able swiftly to ad- vance to the far north, but clearly this is not one of them. it behooves us to bear in mind that we have a long line of retreat before us. We may even have to make our way over the ice and along the coast all the way to Dane's Island, fully 200 miles of travel from our present camp. The road is rough and full of difficulties, as we have found to our cost, and. besides, there is the much-dread- ed Hinlopen to cross. The dense ice fogs are becoming more and more frequent, and when the heaviest fogs come we must lie idle perhaps for days at a time, it being then as impossible to advance as it would be in the darkest night. Our means of re- treat and of escape from Spitzbergen are uncertain enough to cause almost any one to have started back long before this. Forced to Retreat. July 4.—We acknowledge defeat at the hands of the ice king by giving the order to retreat to Walden Island as rapidly as pos- sible. The men appeared to be even more disappointed than we ourselves, and, with Capt. Pedersen as spokesman, they begged for an opportunity to make one more effort to move to the north over the rugged tce. We perceived that this offer came more from their zeal than their judgment, and assuring them of our deep appreciation of their loyalty decided that it was useless to waste more time and human strength in attempting to perform the impossible. It was with sad hearts that we pulled down the tent and packed the boats for the beginning of our return trip. In ord2r to notify Dr. Mohun and his little party of the change of plan, Capt. Pedersen and the writer started for the camp on Walsh Is- land, intending to send back Dahl, Frank- lin and Hovde to help the Lockwood crew over the rough shore ice and across the strait. Imagine our disappointment upon ascending the heights of Cape Scott to see that the strait through which we had rowed for two miles a few days ago was now not only completely filled with pack Ice, but the smooth shore ice which had surrounded {t was nearly all broken up. Nothing could better illustrate the sort of luck which has attended our enterprise since the 12th day of May. During the week that we were en- camped at Walsh Island, waiting ‘o see the effect of a southwestern storm, the lake between that island and the Reps constant- ly grew in size. On Monday it extended nearly from one Island to the other, and we came across with ease. Today it is a | hors [ Grounds. From the Popular Health Magazine. Johannes Secundus in his Basia might be thought to have dealt with the subject of kissing from every concelvable point of view, but he lived in prehygienic days, says the British Medical Journal, before the fear of the ubuquitous bactllus had eclipsed the gayety of nations. Preachers of asceticiam used to conderrn kissing on the ground of its danger to the soul, but to the “average sensual man” the added spice of sin prob- ably made it all more delightful. Now the apostle of sanitary perfection is denouncing kissing for its dangers to the body. The Japanese, he tells us, are a hygienically- minded people, and they never kiss. The sanitary committee of the Orange, N. J., board of health has recommended that a circular be sent out to all whom it may concern “urging every one to desist much as possible from kissing, as the touc! ing of lips is likely to convey contagion.’ That foul and deadly disease may be, and often is, propagated in this way, is, of course, a fact as to which there can be no sort of doubt. Many a mother has, like the Princess Alice, caught infection from the lips of her child dying or dead of diphtheria. There is every reason to be- Neve that the seeds of tubercolosis may be implanted by Kissing, and the too common beslobbering of children by friends of the family and by effusive strangers cannot be too strongly condemned on hygienic grounds. It cannot, therefore, be denied that kissing is dangerous, but will “sanitary commit- tees” be able to put it down, as a too sanguine magistrate once undertook to “put down" suicide? Willi lovemaking be con- ducted on antiseptic principles? “Kissing goes by favor” we are told—is it for the future to be by favor of the county council? Great no doubt ts hygeia, but we will back human nature with some confidence against her. COULDN'T FIND HER POCKET. Misadventure of a Footpad Who Knocked 2 Woman Down. From the Chicago Herald. One of the campaign stories the men have sprung since this woman-voting rage came up is that of the fate which over- took the footpad on West Madison street. He is sald to have been an especially intelligent and slippery gentleman, and had never suffered capture. Furthermore, he had never had the bad judgment to attack a job which had nothing to yield him. Taken altogether, there was plenty of reason why his cause should be championed. And yet he was “thrown down” by one of the de- vices of woman. He laid out half the night recently—or else the story is wrong—waiting for the return home of one of the active man- agers of the woman campaign in the twelfth ward. He knew she was rich, And he knew she had money with her! And he knew he was stronger than she. And there you are. But that man was made the unconscio' victim of a popular craze. For, when she came along and he struck her and she fell down senseless on the pavement—as g a chance as any thug would want—and he had started to find her roll, he met the difficulty that must assall every mem- ber of the craft till women quit assuming their rights and learn to dress differently. He couldn't find her pocket. And while he was searching for it, adding minutes unto minutes, and growing more and more ergrossed and more and more confused, a policeman came along and gathered him in. It is all right for woman to take th place of man. But when she does she should go full length in the matter and put her money where a thief can find it ily, as he can with her more simply ¢onstructed brothers. i — + e+ ____ 2 COMING OF DEATH. The Last Hours Are Us Free From Pain and Fea: From Seribner’s Magazine. Familiarity with death is apt to alter one’s earlier conceptions of it. Two ideas ere very generally accepted which expert- ence shows to be false. One is that the dy- ing usually fear death, and the other, that the act of dying is accompanied by pain. It is well known to all physicians that when death is near its terrors do not seem to be felt by the patient. Unless the imagination is stimulated by the frightful portrayal of the supposed “pangs of death,” or of the sufferings which some believe the soul must endure after dissolution, it is rare indeed that the last days or hours of life are pass- ed in dread. Oliver Wendell Holmes has recorded his protest against the custom of telling a per- son who does not actually ask to know that-he cannot recover. As that loving ob- server of mankind asserts so must every one who knows whereof he speaks assert that people almost always come to under- stand that recovery is impossible; it is rarely needful to tell any one that this is the case. When nature gives the warning, death appears to be as little feared as slee| Most sick persons are very, very tir sleep—long, quiet sleep—is what they want. I have seen many people die. I have never seen one who seemed to fear death, except when it was, or seemed to be, rather far away. Even those who are constantly haunted, while strong and well, with a dread of the end of life, forget their fear when that end is at hand. see . “Tote.” From the Century. In nothing ts the student of American folk-speech so Mable to error as in assign- ing geographical limits to a word or phrase. The English local dialects were pretty thor- oughly mixed. One gained a little more dominance in one place, another in another, but a stray provincial term {fs prone to turn up in places the most unexpected. “Tote” has long been regarded as a word of African origin,confined to certain regions where regroes abound. A few years ago Mr. C. A. Stephens, in a story, mentioned an “oid tote road” in Maine. 'I wrote to inquire, and he told me that certain old portage roads, now abandored, bore that name. I find the word used in’a “Remon- strance” from the people of Gloucester county, Va., preserved in the public record office in London. This paper bears date 1677, when there were four times as many white bond servants as negroes in Virginia. “Tote” appears to have been a well under- stood English word in the seventeenth cen- tury. It meant then, as now, to bear. Bur- lesque writers who represent a negro as “toting a horse to water’’ betray their ig- In Virginia English, the negro the horse to water by making the ote” him, SCOURGE OF MANKIND Ravages of Smallpox Before the Dis- covery by: Jenner. —_.- —- THE DMEASE 18 STIL A MYSTERY The Isolation of the Specific Bac- terium of Cowpox. AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERY Written for The Evening Star. HB DISEASE OF smalipox is wholly mysterious. Medical science up to date has not been able to find out how the con- tagion is produced. It is supposed to be caused by a germ, a bacterium of some kind, but nobody knows positively. Va- rious mi cro-organ- isms have been sep- arated from the mat- ter contained in smallpox pustules, but none of them has been shown to reproduce the specific complaint by inoculation, Very recently, however, a discovery has been made which is destined to revolu- tionize the business of vaccination. The specific bacterium of vaccine or cowpox has been isolated. The importance of this achievement will be understood when it is explained that pure cultures from the germ will be used in future for inoculating peo- ple with cowpox, instead of the lymph now obtained for the purpose from the cow. ‘The present process always involves some chance of communicating other diseases to the patient. Tuberculosis, a complaint ex- ceedingly common among cattle, has often been given in this way to human beings. The germ of cowpox is a micrococcus, so called to indicate its shape, which is that of a little round ball. Under the micro- scope a colony of this species of bacterium looks like an aggregation of dots merely..| Insignificant as they appear, they have gaved scores of millions of human lives already, and in the future are doubtless destined to preserve more human beings than now compose the population of this earth. They can be propagated in indefinite numbers by simply permitting them to feed on gelatine or some other nutritious substance, and a solution of them can be put up at a cheap rate for use by phy- sicians. Vaccination with this pure culture will be much more certain in its effects than cow-lymph,which quickly deteriorates, The latter also loses its efficacy unless it is taken from the animal at exactly the right stage in the development of the pustule, Hence the frequency with which vaccina- tions fail to “take.” 2' The Vaccine Farms, This discovery will @estrey the business of the vaccine farms,iof which there are a number in various parts of the country. One of them is located hear this city. Young helfers are employed for the pur- pose, inoculations of cowpox being made in the skin of their backs, which are shaved and kept as clean gs possible. The animals cannot well He on their backs or lick them, and so thode patts are selected. When the pustules, aljout the size of a 10- cent piece, are sufficiently, developed the fluid taatter contained in them is drawn off by the simple process of puncturing them and thrusting sniafl pointed splinters of bone into the vesicles. This is continued until the vesicles are ty. The bone “points” thus tipped with a coating of cow- pox iymph are dried and ‘sold to dealers in drug supplies, to uppthecaries or di- rectly to physicians. The vaccine farms ‘afte under private ownership. ‘Che proprietors send circulars all over the country to physicians and other possible customers, each of them adver- tising to furnish- the purest lymph in the market. Precautions against tuberculosis in the heifers are taken by inoculating them with Koch’s tuberculin every few months. Any animal that shows feverishness after an injection is. rejected from the cowpox producing herd. Within the last few days tens of thousands of people in this city have been vaccinated, causing such an un- usual demand for vaccine points that phy- sicians have been obliged to telegraph great distances for them, the farms in this part of the country being unable to furnish nearly enough to go round. One point would serve for several vaccinations, but the practice is never to use the same splinter twice, lest some disease be con- veyed from one person to another. Qf course, even at this day many people have a violent prejudice against vaccina- tion, To show how far it may be carried {t is worth while to cite the case of a woman in the Interior Department, who within the last few days was exposed to contagion from one of the cases of small- pox now under surveillance. The health authorities having required her to be vac- cinated she went to a doctor here in town and explained to him that she was afraid to have the operation performed. He told her that it was unnecessary, gave her an alleged medicine, with instructions to take three drops every four hours for three days, and told her that it would render her abso- lutely safe from smallpox. It goes without saying that medical science knows of no such prophylactic to be taken internally. But the singular part of the business was that the physician thereupon gave to the woman a certificate staing that she had been vaccinated by him. For these facts the writer is in a position to vouch, Before the Days of Jenuer. Fortunately, the smallpox now visiting this city seems to have assumed not the most’ virulent form. The malignant, or “black,” smallpox ts invariably fatal, usual- ly resulting in death on the fifth day. Its most striking symptom is a hemorrhage into the skin, the coagulated blood making large blue or black spots over the body. There is also an extravasation of blood in the membranes which cover the eyeballs, £o that the latter turn black. Uusually there is much pain in the back, the feet are cold and the mind remains remarkably clear until the end. This severe kind of ‘small- pox is very rare, happily, and it never occurs in persons who have been efficiently vaccinated after fifteen years of age. Small- pox is most fatal under five and over thirty years of age. At these periods 50 per cent of those attacked die. Nobody knows where smallpox first ap- peared in the world. It is said to hay n known in China and India from the re- motest antiquity. Of ,all dorms of pesti- lence it has been most destructive. Other plagues have surpassed it in destructive- ness for a time, but smallpox, in addition to epidemic visitations, permanently localized itself in every ,gountry it has reached, remaining ever ready to take ad- vantage of favorable coriditions to assume the epidemic form. Noelimate Is free from its ravages. Negroes and, inhabitants of warm climates generally sulfer from it with exceptional severity. Ai century ago it was reckoned that one-fourth eof the human race bore in blindness orsother forms of suffering or disfigurement traces of having been attacked by thig; fearful enemy of mankind, “ : Ancient Arabian manuscripts have been discovered which gives.a frightful picture of the ravages of smallpox in the Abyssinian army during the siege gf Mecca in the year 569 A. D. At about the same period, or soon after, it is known to have raged all over Europe. The earliest positive historical records of the plague do not date further back than the latter part of the sixth cen- tury, but there is not much doubt that the epidemic which depopulated the world in the first century was smallpox. Seneca, de- scribing the pestilence in Thebes, wrote: “Oh, new ano direful face of death! A flaming vapor burns the body’s citadel; small spots besprinkle the skin, the eyes are stiffened and the dark blood bursting the veins distils from the contracted nos- trils.” Smallpox visited Europe a number of times in the ninth and tenth centuries. In the eleventh and twelfth centuries it was greatly spread by the wars of the crusades, being the cnly perceptible recompense brought back by the religious expeditio from the east to their respective countries. From Europe it was conveyed by the Span- jards to Mexico and South America, and was thence diffused over the New World. It devastated Mexico in 1527, destroying 8,500,000 people, and almost depopulating the country. In 1563 it exterminated whole races of men in the Brazils. In 1500 it spread along the coast of Peru and swept away all the Indians and mulattoes in the cities of Potosi and La Paz and the ad- jacent regions, The historian Prescott says that the natives “perished in heaps.” A Terror to Mankind. A generation ago Catlin wrote: “Thirty millions of white men in North America are now struggling and scuffling for the goods and luxuries of life over the bones and ashes of twelve millions of red men, six millions of whom have fallen victims to smallpox, and the remainder to the sword, bayonet and whisky of the Cau- casian.” Washington Irving mentions en- tire tribes as having been nearly exter- minated by the plague—among others the Blackfeet, Crows, Mandans, Assinaboines and Ricarees, A translation of the Bible having been made for the once-powerful six nations, by the time it was finished no one was left to read it. As the white man has made bis way over the earth he has carried his digeases and whisky with him, and the two together have usually served to destroy the aboriginal population wher- ever the intruder has set foot. % In 1707 smallpox wiped out one-fourth of the population of Iceland, taking 16,000 lives. Greenland in 1734 was nearly depopu- lated by the plague, losing two-thirds of its inhabitants. In Russia the disease killed 2,000,000 people in one year. It was reckon- ed that in Europe 500,000 persons died of smallpox annually. Every twenty-five years at least 15,000,000 human beings_in Europe succumbed to the complaint. It spared neither high nor low. ‘The father, mother and wife of William III died of smallpox, as well as his uncle, the Duke of Gloucester, and his cousins, the eldest son and youngest daughter of James Ii. His own constitution was permanently shattered by an attack of the scourge. In short, the disease was a perfect terror to mankind. It continued to be such until the beginning of the last century, without prospect of mitigation. Then Lady Mary Wortley Montague, wife of the British am- bassador at St. Petersburg, wrote her his- toric letter describing the process of inoc- ulation with smallpox virus as practiced in Russia. This letter made known for the first time in England a method of preven- tion which had been understood in thé east for centuries, such inoculation producing & mild form of smalipox which rendered the patient safe from the complaint. Lady Mary had her own children treated in this way. In 1722, after preliminary experi- nents on six condemned criminals, which resulted favorably, two children of Caroline, Princess of Wales, were inoculated, thus m.aking the practice popular. Every sort of opposition was offered to this new idea. Sermons were preached against it. It was declared wicked to inter- fere in such a way with the purposes of the Almighty. It was alleged to savor of magic and to be an inspiration of the devil. One clergyman, the Rev. Edward Massey, at- tempted to psove from Scripture that Job's distemper was smallpox, and that he was inoculated by Satan; hence it was undesir- able to imitate the prince of evil. Discovery of Vaccination. Though these arguments may not have been good ones, the practice of inoculation with staallpox virus was found to be un- desirable for more practical reasons. The process rendered the individual immune to the disease, but it gave to the patient true smallpox, though in a mild form, and he immediately became a source from which smallpox was spread by contagion, Thus the total number of deaths was actually in- creased, and very considerably. Such was the forlorn and hopeless state of the world in respect to this plague at the end of the eighteenth century, when the ob- servation and wisdom of one man threw @ bright light upon the gloomy scene. It had been known from an early period among the great dairy farms of Gloucester- shire, England, that cows were occasionally affected with a peculiar pustular disease which could be transferred to those who milked them, and that by this disease the injikers were rendered immune to smallpox. When hardly more than a boy the great Jenner was much impressed by the remark of a miikmali who told him that she was safe from smallpox, having hud the cowpox. After thirty years spent in experimenting, th‘s benefactor of mankind gave to the world the discovery that inoculation with lymph from the pustules of cowpox would produce practically absolute immunity from the much-dreaded plague. So far as this lea was concerned, he could not claim originality, The same sort of thing has been done before. There is record of the inoculation of three children with cow- pox by a village schoolmaster near Kiel in 1791. But Jenner was first to concatve the notion of transmitting the vaccine from one human being to another, thus keeping up a perpetual supply of lymph and rendering mankind independent of the uncertain sup- ply which casual disease in the cow afford- ed. In a werd, his idea was to propagate the matter of cowpox from éne human being to anotter until the practice should be dis- seminated all over the globe, to the total extinction of smallpox. ‘The Beneficial Re te. Success once proved, a storm of protest and opposition arose, of course. The pulpit thundered. It was declared that smallpox was a merciful provision of the Almighty to ease the burden of the poor man’s fam- ily. Leviticus was quoted against contam- inating the form of the Creator with the brute creation. Ehrmann of Frankfort tried to prove from the Scriptures that vaccine was actually antichrist. Portents were observed, such as the birth of an ox- faced boy, and were gravely commented upon. And this was less than @ century ago Nevertheless, vaccination quickly became diffused over the world. It Was easily ac- cepted by aboriginal Americans, fxnatic Mvhammedans, followers of Brahma and Confuctus, id more or less enlightened Europeans. Spain sent ships to her col- onies carrying vaccine and physicians to give directions for its use. ithin a few years the number of deaths from _ small- pox were reduced to only a small fraction of what they had been annually. For ex- ample, in Sweden there had been 2,050 deaths per million of population. The mor- tality ran down within ten years to 158 per million. In Berlin for forty years be- fore the introduction of vaccination an average of 3,422 persons died of smallpox yearly. In the twenty-five following years the average was only 176. Occasional epi- demics which have occurred since then have been due purely and solely to ne- glect of this simple precaution. RENE BACH. ieee SLEEPLESS NIGHTS. The Scientific Explanation of the Ab- sence of Nature’s Restorer. From National Review. Formerly sleep was believed to be de- pendent cn a state of comparative blood- lessness of the brain, and by the condition of the circulation of the blood through that organ the character and duration of sleep was held to be modified. This view is still regarded as correct by physiologists of the present day, but since physiological chem- istry has thrown more light on the process- es of repair and waste it has been shown that, in addition to the part played by the blood circulating through the brain, induc- ing wakefulness or sleep according to the increase or decrease in the rapidity of the circulation-and the variation in the size of the blood vessels, the actual chemical con- dition of the brain cells also serves to de- termine the existence of sleep and wake- fulness. As the formation of clinkers in a fur- nace reduces the flerceness of the flames and interferes with the activity of com- bustion, so the accumulation of fatigue products within the brain cells, formed during the waking hours, tends to induce unconsciousness by reducing the activity of chemical action and interchange between the blood, the vehicle of nourishment, and the brain cell needi: replenishment. gS SEE St ET, Written for The Evening Star. A Post Office Plaint. No letter yet! 0, horried news! Enough to give a saint the blues, To think that every coming mail ‘Has brought the same distressing tale, No letter yet! You said you'd write, But now I'm out of “mind” and “‘sighty™ For all these weeks you've sent no line ‘To cheer this anxious heart of mine. No letter yet! My hopes each day Are quickly banished by dismay; And oh, my heart, it flutters #0 Whene'er the postman tells me no, No letter yet! Oh, pray, relent, And of your negligence repent! Oh, do, in future serve me better, And cheer me quickly with a letter. —“BYOILE FULANTR” WICK BOLTER —QUTWITTED THE STORY OF A RUNAWAY WRITTEN FOR THE EVENING STAR BY JOEF- FRY DAVIES. ———+—_—__ It was early dawn of a crisp, cool Sep- tember morning, and a red sun was trying hard to struggle out of a bank of bluish haze. A white frost was on the stubble fields and the stacked corn, and the crimson and russet foliage of the mountain side had the moisty look o: colors on a painter's pa- lette. Two boys were on the porch of a typical Pennsylvania farm house, evidently prepar- ing for a hunting trip. In front of the house ran the Linglestown road, and beyond it a strip of pine woods sloped to the oak and chestnut timber of the Blue Ridge. Teddy Kirkwood was sixteen, and a frank, honest, impulsive lad, as one could read in his blue’ eyes. Nick Bolter was older by two years, and his otherwise pleas- ing face was marred by a grasping look. This was his inheritance rather than his fault, for the Bolters had always been noted for their close-fistedness. The boys were neighbors, but they had little in com- mon except a fondness for hunting, which brought them together pretty ferquently in the fail of the year. “We couldn't have a better day for squir- rels,” remarked Teddy, as he rammed a wad of crumpled paper into the barrel of his old muzzle-loader, “arf they say the woods are full of them this year.” “I hope we'll get a lot, and all grays,” replied Nick. “They'll fetch a good price in market tomorrow morning, and that’s where I'll take mine.’” He slung his powder horn over one shoul- der and his shot pouch over the other. “I’m ready,” he added, picking up his gun. “So am I,” said Teddy, as he thrust a parcel of lunch into his game bag. “Hullo, here comes Jefferson Skimmer. ‘Tain't often he’s aiong this early.” A covered buggy, drawn by a lean, white horse rattled up to the gate and stopped, and a large man in gray homespun jumped out. There was a grimmer expression than usual on his hard, close-shaven face, and his brow was knitted into ugly wrinkles. The stopping of the vehicle brought Ted- dy’s father out of the house and down to the gate. “Mornin’, Kirkwood,” growled the visitor. “Seen anything o’ that bound boy of mine—young Joe Hackett?” Mr. Kirkwood shook his head. “Did you lose him?” he asked. “He run away last night,” replied the angry farmer, “‘an’ stole purcy near every- thing he could lay his hands on.” “Any valuables, eh?” “Waal, no,” admitted the farmer, “it was all in the eating line. He cleaned out the pantry. What riles me is the ongrateful- ness of it. I treated that boy like my own son, fed an’ clothed him, and looked after his moral bringin’ up. An’ that’s the way he rewards me. But I'll fix him when I get him back. He's legally bound over to _me till = comes of age, and I ain't goin’ to let him slip.” “Any idea where he is?” asked Mr. Kirk- I reckon. At least wood. “In_the mountains, Jeb Perkins seen him cuttin’ that way across the fields back of Linglestown. You boys goin’ huntin’?” and the farmer turned sharply to Teddy. "re going to try our luck for squir- rels,” the lad replied. “Then keep a lookout for the young ras- cal. If you catch him and bring him to my place I'll give you $5—a two-and-a-half gold piece for each of you. I'm goin’ to town to put the @nstable on the watch, an’ I'll look in on the way back this evening.” With a smack at his pocket that made | the coins therein jingle Mr. Jefferson Skim- | mer leaped into the buggy and drove swift- | ly off. | “I never believed in this thing of bindin’ | out boys,” remarked Mr. Kirkwood, with a meditative shake of his head. “It simply makes slaves of ‘em, an’ often to a hard taskmaster. I won't say Jeff Skimmer is that, though it ain't unlikely. He's a close one at driving a bargain. Well, the lad is his property, and he’s a lawful right to hunt him and drag him back.” “I saw Joe Hackett the last time I was up the valley,” said Teddy. “He was cut- ting corn and he had only one suspender. I wonder if he really is on the mountain. I'd like to earn the reward. Two dollars and a half will buy lots of things I want.” “I'll save my share if I get it,” replied Nick. “We'll keep our eyes open, anyway, Teddy, and you bet Joe Hackett will be a goner if I get sight of him. I'll draw a bead on him, like this,” throwing his gun to his shoulder, nd then I'll yell, ‘Halt, throw up your hands.’ That will fetch him, sure.” “He may run,” said Teddy. “Then I'll run faster,” asured Nick. “He won't get away from-me.” “But the squirrels will, if we don't soon get started,” said Teddy. “Come on, now.” The boys crossed the road and plodded through the sloping belt of pine trees, dis- cussing, as they went along, the chances of finding the fugitive. They concluded that the prospect Was poor, and that it would be folly to waste the day on so doubtful a search. When they reached the heavier timber on the upper part of the mountain they found other things to think about. The sharp barking of squirrels was heard all around them, and they advanced with noiseless tread, stopping now and then to watch and listen. At noon they were several miles from home, and on the flat top of the mountain. They had eleven plump gray squirrels be- tween them, which was a fair result for the morning. After eating a part of their lunch they stretched themselves lazily on the dead leaves, and lay there for several hours, looking up into the clear blue sky. Finally Teddy rose to his feet and shoul- dered his gun. “Come along, Nick,” he gaid, “I want to bag half a dozen more.” “Plenty of time,” Nick replied with a yawn. “I'm tired. Wait a bit.” “No, I'm up now,” said Teddy. “You can come after me when you feel like it. I won't go any further than the big rock.” “All right, I'll be along,” answered Nick. “This is as soft as a feather bed.” “Lazy bones,” laughed Teddy. “Well, I'm off.” He started briskly along ridge in a northerly direction, and before he had gone a quarter of a mile he heard the distant barking of a squirrel amid the thick timber. Hoping to get sight of it he advanced over the rough ground with a caution that brought all his knowledge of woodcraft into play. There were tangled coppices to be wormed through, dry twigs and leaves and limbs to be shunned, So noiseless, indeed, was the young hunter's approach that not a sound came to the hearing of a lad who was sitting in a sunny glade amid the dense thicket, with his back against a stone and his hands deep in his pockets. He was a little bit of @ fellow, no more than fourteen, and his face was pitiable for its paleness and wan look. faded coat was buttoned close about his throat to supply the lack of a shirt collar; his trousers and shoes were ragged, and a girl's knitted cap was perch- ed on his unkempt hair. As Teddy broke softly and suddenly through the thicket into the glade the lad sprang to his feet with a gasp of terror and stood there trembling and startled. For a brief instant the two confronted each other. Then Teddy, who was equally surprised, let his gun slide to the ground, darted swiftly forward, and seized the fugitive by the coat collar. “No you don’t, Joe Hack- ett," he cried triumphantly. “No gettin’ away from me. I'm in luck.” The lad made a brief and hopeless strug- gle and then submitted quietly, dropping limply down on the grass when Teddy loosed his hold. He screwed a tear out of each eye and drew a long breath. “I’m yourn,” he said in a bitter tone, as he look- ed up at his captor. “Taint no use to kick. Are you goin’ to take me back to Jeff Skim- m f course,” replied Teddy. ‘What else? You're a criminal according to law, and there's a reward out, you know.” “I aln’t a criminal,” the lad asserted with mournful doggedness. “I ain’t done nothin’ “You ran away,” answered Teddy, in a tone of virtuous indigvation, “and you stole everything from the pantry. “No, I didn’t. I only took an apple pie and two pieces of dry bread. And I wouldn't have taken them, only I was half night?” The prisoner nodded. “Every bite,” said. “It was all gone this morning. could almost eat them squirrels now,” look- ing hard at t game bag. “Here, take is." Teddy handed out what was left of his lunch, and the lad be- gan to eat in a ravenous fashion. Teddy watched him furtively, and as he noted his captive’s pale, hollow cheeks and woe-be- gone look he felt a choky lump rise in his throat. “Why did you run off, Joe?” he The lad detected a note of kindness and sympathy in the question. “I'll tell you,” he replied. “Say, you've got a good home, ain't you? “As good a one as a fellow 3 Teddy answered, warmly. ex sar “So had I,” Joe went on, ago. You've heard about’ i lived on Jackson's farm_as and mother an’ me. We wer anybody livin’ tiN—till last spring. “then ae tree fell on father an’ killed him, and in June mother died. There wasn't anything left, an’ I had to go to the poor house for a spell. Then the county bound me over to Jefferson Skimmer. That was in July, and since then there ain't been a day but what 1 wished I was dead. Do you know what it was like? Most dogs are treated better. I had to wear old clothes that Jeff Skimmer cast off. 1 had nothin’ to eat but broken scraps from the table, and not enough of them half the time. Iwas up at 4 o'clock, aud worked till seven, and never a kind word—only cursin’ and ‘scoldin’. And as for Mekin # lot Dulled up his sleeves and show- S Ol i ai Ass of bruises on each arm from <I don't wonder you run off,” Teddy ad- mitted, feeling hopelessly at’ a 4 for words. “I wish Jefferson Skimmer was here, and I was twice as big as him. I tell you I'd”—He clenched both fists, and looked So Savage that Joe shrank closer to. the There was silence for a moi < has been ain't nothin‘eto whet iy wit at when he gets hold of me again,” muttered the captive. “I reckon he'll purty near skin me. You wouldn't want to go back if you was me. i guess I wouldn't," exclaimed Teddy. “Why, I had no idea it-was like that, Still, you had no other home, Joe, and you can’t live in the mountains this time of year.” T had that all fixed,” Joe answered quick- a = mind Bill Martin, what runs ‘oad as engineer. this ‘side of Rockvil boo “Yes, 1 remember, an awfully nice man “and only a year » I reckon. We tenants-—-father sald Teddy. “He was ou bet he was,” assented Joe. “Well, 1 seen him a month ago, an’ he tole me when I got tired standin’ Jeff Skimmer, he'd take me away on his freignt train out fo the farm in Ohio where his parents live. They're lonely old folks, and want a boy. He says they'll treat me right, an’ send me to school, an’ give me gocd clothes to Wear, So that’s why I run off; but now" ro agp voice broke a little. He rubbed a ear from each grimy cheek, an sadly at his ragged shoes. Seeds wg DaY, Joe," Teddy drew a little closer. ‘Say, I'm real sorry for you, honest 1 am. Path does Bill Martin make his next iD? “He goes through every Wednesday night,’ replied Joe, his face brightening with a sudden flush of hope, “an’ that’s to- morrow. His train stops for water at the aa side of Rockville.” x thought of the promised gold-piece within his grasp, hesitated ruefully, and then made up his mind with boyish Promptness. “I ain't mean enough to tak you back to Jeff Skimmer, law or no law, he said. “Here's twenty cents, Joe, ail the money I've goi. If I was you I'd hide in the next valley till tomorrow evening—it’s thicker and wider there. Hurry up now, or Nick Bolter will be comin’ along, and I won't promise.” “Do—do you mean it?” Joe interrupted incredulously, taking the money with a shaking hand. “I didn’t think you'd be that kind.” “Did you think I could be that mean?” Teddy exclaimed, half in anger. “I ain’t a saint, but all the same—hullo, here comes Nick Bolter now. Run for it.” Yes, the bushes were rustling close by. A sharp whistle trilled on the air. “He’ sure to get me,” Joe whispered in a terri- fied voice. “I know Nick.” “So do I,” muttered Teddy, “and that's why I say run. “But I can't,” half-cried Joe, “not fast, anyway. I sprained my ankle on a stone.”* His voice was imprudentiy loud, and un- luckily betrayed him. “Hi Teddy,’ de- manded Nick, from a ort distance, “Who're you talkin’ to?’ The runaway?” “Now you've done it,” whi: looking over his shoulder. Nick.” Then, as a sudden idea struck him, he added excitedly: “Drop behind that | rock, Joe, quick. When you hear me yell the third time cut down into the back val- ley as fast as you can. Understand?” Joe nodded, as he rolled noiselessly into the bushy hollow behind the rock. Pur- posely leaving his gun where tt lay, Te dashed across the glade in the opposite di- rection from which Nick was approaching. As he ran he took care to make plenty of noise, and when a violent commotion in the bushes behind him told him that his plot was a success he gave three lusty shouts. After that he sped along through the treea with great leaps, yelling loudly at intervals: “Hold on, Joe. Stop, stop.” Nearer and nearer came the rapid thresh- ing of his pursuer, and when a slippery stone threw Teddy into a clump of bushes he was violently pounced upon before he could rise. “You,” Nick gasped, in wrathful amaze, ment, when he saw who it was that he had captured. ‘You've tricked me, Ted Kirk- As soon as Teddy could get his breath he made a clean breast of everything except Joe's future plans—concerning which he was discreetly silent. He hoped to arouse hig companion’s sympathies, but Nick plat had none to arouse. After storming swearing at Teddy he started off in sion, vowing that he would find the if it kept him all night on the mountain. Teddy retraced his steps to get his , and then went home with a light heart. story won a reluctant approval from hii father, but it was otherwise ed Mr. Jefferson Skimmer, who expressed a de- sire to have Teddy and a stout s' in com- pany for half an hour, and also made threats of legal punishment,’ which, “-however, were never fulfilled. The farmer was probably just as well satisfied that bis cruel tréate ment of the bound boy should not be aired in a court of tice. Nick Bolter’s search the runaway proved fruitless, and when heard rumble of Bill Martin’s freight train on following evening @ great load seemed from his mind. A month or two afterward | kind-hearted engineer and learn inst Hackett had safely reached the farm was a happy and contented lad. a +02 —_____ THEY ARB WELL “FIXED.” What the Comte de Paris’ Family, Have Become Possessed Of. From the New York Journal The Comte de Paris was not stingy, but was fond of money. His view of his chil- dren was that without heaps of money and royal husbands or wives thelr lot would be unenviable. Between the dowries he could give ang the importance the courts of Burope at- tached to him as a “legitimate” pretenden, their matrimonial prospects were brilliant’ The Queen of Portugal was given $20,000 year during her parents’ lifetime. he altogether have about $60,000 or more. will each of her sisters. The youngest son was left the reversion of Villa Mamique, which is now worth 8,000,000 francs. The Comte de Paris must have been worth 000 @ year, inde pendently of what had from the Duchesse de Galliera. Bo ees ee ee eee francs of sopenees, and of “the Orleans debt” of 16, franca, which the Ver- = assembly allowed to Louis Philippe’s jebt. Of the uncles’ and aunts’ shares he the Duc de Chartres had about $200, apiece, the arrears of their mother’s dower income, which was secured on the Orleans The Duchesse de Galliera ga’ 500,000,000 francs. A good deal o! nk in improvements of the Du and Amboise chateaux and estates, but very little of it was spent on political or ganizations. The fortune of the Comtesse de Pi m7 otto very great, but it has been kept 0 Rivalries of Women. From Lippincott’s Magazine, Famous women are the great dramatie artists of history. Without the comedy which even their tragedies furnish, history would be as cold as an orchestra without brass. How their caprices, their foibles, their frailties, their daring cleverness, sparkle out of the solid pages! How their faces, beautiful or individual, jewel thi musty chronicle and allure the student from the dark procession of the it! Even the demoniacs, Catherine de M Cath- erine of Russia, Lucretia Borgia, ve @ picturesqueness unattainable by man. By comparison, Henry the Eighth is o butcher, Philip the Second a monoman: with a lust for blood, Caesar Borgia is obscured behind the magnificent sweep his sister's skirts. But the sauce piquante of history are the women whose jealousies turned the fate of nations, whose smarting vanity soothed by the old-fashioned brocesa” of blood letting, or who merely furnish vate theatricalg for their contemparariga,