Evening Star Newspaper, January 4, 1896, Page 15

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, JANUARY 4, 1896-TWENTY-FOUR PAGES. 15 THE ART. OF WAR Some of the Latest Military Devices - Adonted in France. BALLOONS IN’ PRACTICAL USE Maneuvers of the Bicycle Corps and the Resu'ts Attained. SsScOoUTS DOGS AS (Copstight, 1896, by Bachetler,Johuson & Bacheller.) IGNALING WAS going on from the hills as our diligence creaked along the highway which leaves the National road at . Shauvency. We were in the mid- Ne of the spring maneuvers. On ev- ery hillock fluttered little flags. Some of the signal men were mounted, some on ae oz foot, but the flags wig-wagged ticir messages with the same rapidity in either case. Down in a hollow to our left, surrounded by soldier§, stood a strange machine bear- ing a distant resemblance to a fire engine. Over it hovered a balloon, from which a cable hung. The cable was being paid out from the engine and the balloon rose gently, like a great rosy bubble lighted up by the ras of the setting sun. As we looked some- thing white fluttered from it, like a bit of paper tossed im the wind.. It was a pigeon wnich pitched about for a moment in the Wpper air currents, and then slanting to the west glided away and was blotted out against the sun's disk. A turn in the road brought us to a bridge guarded by a dozen sunburnt fantassins, and further on we passed some men of an engineer battalion digging holes in a potato field. They went at it with an enthusiasm which seemed to me unwarranted, the ther- mometer being at eighty-seven and potatoes cheap. But our driver said they knew tueir business, emphasizing his words with a “Fichtret” as he threw his leaders back on their haunches in time to escape utter anni- bilation from a flying battery wh.ch plung- ed out of a lane at right angles to our road. Guns, caissons, troopers, succeeded each other like cars of an express train. A streak of black and scarlet, a streak of silver, and they were gone, leaving our ears ringing and our eyes blurred. : The sun touched the horizon’s edge as we galloped into the white poplar bordered military road which leads to Montmey. Before us Yay a curious rount h E exyseugers Frum the Sky. the fortress of Montmedy, a solitary rock in the plain. When our diligence rolled into the main street of the village, the host of the Lion @Or came out to welcome us. In the kitchen doorway stood an officer. His _kepi was banded with crimson vel- vet. His dolman was trimmed with astra- khan, and he wore a red morocco surgeon’s case slung under his elbow. His attitude suggested absorbing interest in the cooking. When I caught a glimpse of his profile, I said: “Does it smell like roast beef, Jacques?” and, pivoting on his spurred heels, he grasped both my hands in astonish- ment. He had been at the Val de race while I lived in the Latin quarter, and our acquaint- ance had budded in the café Vachette. He told me he was attached to the —th of the line, in garrison, and received with enthusiasm my proposal to visit the fortress. It was growing dark when the table was ready, and we sat.down with three of his brother officers, De K—— of the artillery, B— of the engineers and little B— of the chasseurs-a-cheval. “Light the lamps, Monsieur Perron, if you please!” they cried to the landlord, and instantly, as though by magic, the reom was filled with a light so wh.te and dazzling that it blinded me for a moment. They all laughed at my astonishment. It Was not magic, only a coincidence. One of the powerful search lights, mounted some- where in the fortress over us, had been turned upon our house. Jacques intimated to the others my de- sire to visit the fortress, and they agreed I should see all that any foreigner was al- Evolution of the Bicycle Corps. lowed to see. So many of my brother ar- tists had been arrested for innocent sketch- ing In the vicinity of military works that I was glad enough to have a sponsor or two. I learned that the fortress of Montmedy Was one of the great frontier bulwarks, but that it was none of my business how many guns or of what caliber it contained. There are parts of the fortress forbidden to all except the commandant and a few high officers, parts forbidden to every one ex- cept the garrison, and still other parts for- Hidden to foreigners and native alike. What was left I might see. The conversation ranged from the spring “maneuvers to the late agitation along the Russian frontier. It was reported that bal- loons coming from Germany had been seen over the frontier fortifications, and when fired upon, had, to the amazement of the Russians, returned, apparently against the very air currents which brought them. Jacques ‘aughed and murmured, “Ca- ard.” De sald, turning to me: “That balloon problem will be solved in America soon. The balloon of the future will move independent of air currents. It is very sim- ple—a plane holding a light engine, a screw and stearing gear—”" “Very simple—oh, very simple,” said Jacques, sarcastically, “my compliments to Monsieur Maxim and vive les Etats Unis!” “Oh, yes,” I said, “that’s all very well j trensmitter and for the future; but I want to know what will prevent a modern:balloon from sailing right over this fortress and dropping a load of dynamite? I don’t mean a cigar-shaped machinelike that experiment of yours, ‘La France,’ but just an ordinary military bel- loon such as we see every few days float- ing over Paris?” Jacques enjoyed this. My military ardor delighted him. “Dear me, what a strategist you have be- come,” he said, as we rose from table and took our cigarettes to the porch. “Nos the question is perfectly rational,” sal » smiling; “Idon’t know that De K. Dog Trained for Military Service. anybody has entirely solved it—unless it be this master of milltary science, Jacques, who, to my mind had better concern him- self with his bandages.” “Well,” said I, “suppose some summer day a balloon came sailing along and drop- ped a few torpedoes of dynamite or melen- ite into those barracks over there.”” ‘The noise would be great,” said Jacques, “and the patrol there on the bridge would be frightened. “Nonsense,” said De K- + “it is a pos- sible thing; but really I believe that before she came in sight of Montmedy we should krow of her coming by signals and would riddle her with bullets or blow her to pieces with machine guns before she did any harm.” “But if she came by night?” “That would be a misfortune for us,” said De K- ~ quietly. “Still you notice that our search lights are busy among the clouds, even in time of peace.” ms The view from the north rampart was not at all like that from the south, for now at our feet roads, bordered by white stucco walls, cut in and out among fruit gardens and wooded slopes. From somewhere, miles beyond the horizon, came the dull booming of cannon. On a hill to.the west something glowed in the sun; it might have been a battery. Everywhere below us troops were in motion,.the red of their trousers staining the green landscape like blotches of blood. Jacques called my a tention to some soldiers mounted on bi cycles. They were sp:nning alorg the road, leaving a trail of white dust behind. Sud- denly, while we were looking, a cloud of chasseurs-a-cheval burst from a wooded slope to the east. Half a dozen of them trotted down the slope, but, being blocked by the wall, bogan capering about in great agitation. Then the officer pulled up sharp, the troopers sprang to the ground, and two of them clambered upon the wall, unslung their carbines, and began popping away at the bicyclists, who were evidently thrown into confusion by this maneuver. One of them, however, keeping on, but close be- neath the overhang ng bank, slipped under the blue-jacketed chasseurs and escaped. The others were considered hors-de-com- bat by the rules of their game of war, and dismounted sulkily enough. “You ought to make a sketch of that,” sald Jacques. “Shall I put spiked helmets on the cy- | clists to make it more interesting?’ I re- plied. It was curious to see that pensive ex- pression steal over his face as I spoke. He seemed silently interrogating the clouds, as though they were those storm clouds which have so long brooded over the fron- tler, black, menacing, stifling in their depths, the thunder of which one day will shake the world. “A few years ago,” I ventured, “no.sone thought that cavalry would one day have to contend with cyclists.” “Cyclists,” said Jacques, “are not in- tended to take the place of cavalry. They do entirely differe-t work—or the same work differently. The prime object of cav- alry is to charge. We have today seventy- ‘ven regiments of cavalry of the first line, ard one hundred and forty-eight squad- Tons, or thirty-seven regiments, of the sec- ond line. What is the particular power and function of this force? To charge..Cyelists can’t charge. They are really only mounted infantry. The bicycle is merely a conve- nient means of locomotion. But it eats nothing, is never sick, moves with speed and silence and costs little. For scouting. and means of communication it surpasses cavalry. A corps of cyclist infantry mov- ing as skirmishers can repel cavalry by dismounting and forming the Zereba, with cycles ~esting on handles and saddles, and wheels kept spinning. No horses’ can charge that. Should the Zereba, however, have to stand a concentrated carbine fire or a few shots from a machine gun, the cyclists who got off unscathed would have to do co on foot. As for equipment, a cycle cam carry everything necessary, even the carbine, althovgh we have not yet decided that point. Those fellows below us that the chasseurs were after are merely dis- patch carriers. One got away, you noticed. But with the new field telephore, staff offi- cers and orderlies will have little to do in carrying messages.” i settled myself down on the grassy rampart to listen: “Perhaps you have not heard about it,” he continued, “but it is due to your clever American officers that it has been brought to its present perfection. In Egypt Sir Garret Wolseley used it in almost every ergagerrert, and kept himself and staff in communication with the front. I think it worked with great success at Tel-el-Kebir. You see, heretofore it has been impossible for a commanding officer to obtain rapid, corstant, reliable information from the frent, or yet to transmit bis orders unless by signals or mounted orderlies. Signals may be read by the enemy: orderlies may be killed or captured. The field telegraph is not infallible. A shell may annihilate instruments and men. Battles of the fu- | ture will be short and decisive, and it Is of the most vital importance that communi- cation should be instant and reliable be- tween outposts and headqvarters, between letachments and the main body. I under- stand that it is Capt. Kilbourne of your signal corps who has given you an almost perfect field telephone cart. It is merely a vehicle mounted upon light steel wheels bound with cushion tires, and carrying from two to six reels of cable, each mount- ed cn insulated brackets. The width of your machine is only twenty-six inches, but I can predict, I think, that ours wili be larger. The vehicle, with the cable reels, weighs between 130 and 160 pounds. The reels may be emptied, detached, and ew ones mounted, £0 you see the length of the cable is not limited. In connection with the cart, leather eases held by shoul- der straps and containing telephone kits, are used. The kits contain the hattery, inducticn cofl and combined long-distance receiving attachments. The cart can easily be drawn by @ man, or shafts may be attached and horses used. There is no difficulty in keeping up com- menication during unreeling or reeling. I have been thinkirg,” he continued, quietly, “that some such vehicle could be applied to my own corps. As a light, quick-moving band ambulance it might be invaluable.” He Lad risen while speaking, and arm in arm we sauntered down the path, shaded by scented thickets and guarded by flower- embowered cannon. We spoke of ambu- lence improvements, and referred to the then recent organization In Paris of the American municipal ambulance system. As we finished our descent and turned into the road, De K— of the artillery, followed by a bull terrier, saluted us.. I leaned down and patted the dog, which received the caresses with dignified approbation. “His name is Bibi,” said Jacques; “he’s one of our messengers.” I had heard of the messenger dogs in use on the frontier, but had imagined them te be greyhounds. “Oh, we take all kinds of dogs,” De K—, noticing my surprise. “Bibi there 13 one of our best scouts. You ean never tell what a dog may develop in training for frontier service. A . black peodle, ‘Soeur Anne,’ and. a staghound nemed ‘Loup Garou,’ are among our crack messengers.”” 3 “You see,” said Jacques, “dogs make splendid scouts as well as messengers. They can range a wide territory without making any noise, and with a keen scent they detect the enemies’ pickets long be- fore men could posstbiy do so. The Aus- trians, as well as we, have dogs trained to carry each a hundred cartridges to the skirmish line when ammunition is needed. We expect to use them in searching thick- ets and uneven ground for the wounded, especially at night. They could’go over a battlefield, after an engagement, to carry all sorts of little necessaries to the wound- ed. The dogs like it—take Bibi there, his nature ts military to the stump of his tail.” “Will you allow me to take a sketch cf Bibi?" TI asked. De jaughed, and said: “Ask Bibi.” I did so, and Bibi consented with that delightful sympathy which characterizes the French race, canine or human. SS eS A SHAKE FOR A MINE. Property Valued at $100,000 Staked on a Game of Dice. From the Helena Independent. A silver mine changed hands yesterday on the result of a dice game between R. A. Bell and Pat Welsh. Each owned a one- half interest in the Belle of Clancy, in Lump Gulch. The mine was worth consid- erable, for it was one of the properties that are termed “promising prospects” by those who own them. Considerable development- work has been dorie, and there is already @ good streak of ore, although not as much as the owners thought they ought to have. In discussing the developnient of the mine, they found they could not agree on some important matters of policy. There was a deadlock, and with the prospect that it would not be broken, they decided that it would be best for both if the property were all held by one man. “Let us rattle the bones for it,” suggested Welsh. “What shall it be?” was Mr. Bell’s prompt reply. “Three Mr. shakes, horses,” Welsh thought would be about the thing. Mr. Bell philosophically reflected that what was sauce for the goose was sauce for the gander, To be sure, there might be luck or in “drop or “poker ‘alifornia, but it would be as likely to be luck for Mr. Welsh as for Mr. Bell, and, after consider- ing a moment, he said that “three shakes, horses,” was good enough for him. They dropped into Staff & Opheim's and called for the bones. They were handed to Mr. Bell, and he took the first rattle at them. On the first flop he threw three aces, and on each succeeding throw an- other ace came to keep that one company. Five aces were so good that Mr. Bell re- posed in confidence, while he awaited the result of the first horse. Nor was his con- dence misplaced. His opponent had but three sixes, the best he could do. Mr. Welsh, as is the custom, kept the dice box and shook again. “Four sixes,” he said, as he picked up the dice and handed the box along. “That’s good enough this time. You can’t shake five of a kind every time.” Mr. Bell couldn't. He managed to get a pair of fives, having split a pair of deuces in the first place, because he thought they weren’t good enough. It was “horse and horse.” Then Mr. Bell tried with all his might. The result was four fives. “Blow in the box,” said Mr. Welsh to Charley Snedaker, who was refereeing the game. Mr. Snedaker complied. He also made a rew mysterious passes over the box, and muttered an incantation taught him by a medicine man down on the banks of Lake Victoria Nyanza. With a smile of confidence, Mr. Welsh took the ¢ylinder in his hands again. “They have got to come now,” he said, as he tipped the ivories out. They rolled across the face of the showcase and set- tled down, while both the participants tried to look as if there wasn’t $100,000 at stake. “Five aces,” said the referee. “That settles it,” said Mr. Bell. “It was that breath that did the busi- ness,” said Mr. Welsh, joyfully. The deed will be signed today. ——— England’s Grain Crop. From the London Times. The official estimate by the board of agri- culture of the yields of cereal crops in Great Britain for the present year was published in the Times of Saturday. All three crops come out below the ten years’ average, while the decline compared with last year’s estimated yield is 4.46 bushels for wheat, 2.81 bushels for barley, and 4.58 tushels for oats. When we turn from the yields per acre to the estimated total pro- duce, some startling comparisons present themselves: Estimated total produce of wheat, barley and oats in Great Britain, 1890-5. Wheat. Barley. Oats. Bushels. _Bushels.__Bushels. + | 73,354,484 | 73,993,801 | 120,188,016 1 | weirazizes | 72129005 | 1121386201 2 | 58;560/932 | 70,484,507 | 116,204,980, = | 49, 297 | 59,535,377 | 112,88" 59,172,801 37,176,257 It is necessary to remember that, while the area of wheat continues to decline, that of barley and of oats is extending. The wheat product of Great Britain this year is estimated at 37,176,257 bushels, or only 4,647,032 quarters. This quantity is barely more than half of that which we were pro- ducing 9s recently as five years ago. Bar- ley yields a smaller product than it did five years since, while the output of oats has increased to a merely fractional extent. Hence no indication is afforded by either barley or oats of making good, by a larger output in the case of these two cereals, the erormous and significant decline recorded for wheat, the produce of which is now 12,- 000,000 bushels below even that.of the year of supreme drought, 1893. o+—____ DAYS OF FORTY-NINE. Reminiscences of One of the Call- fornia Pioneers. Henry B. Livingston in the San Francisco Call. The vast majority of the searchers for the “golden fleece” were in the bloom of early manhood Few had reached middle age, and scarcely one in a thousand was beyond the meridian of life. Arriving here between the ages of twenty and thirty years, they would, according to nature’s inexorable laws, end their earthly pilgrimage at or be- fore the three score and ten years allotted to mortals. ‘ Of 750 senior members of the Pionéer So- ciety on the roster now living, thirty-six were born in 1819, thirty-four in 1820, thirty- five in 1821, forty-one in 1822, fifty-nine in 1823, fifty-two in 1824, fifty-five in 1825, and fifty-four in 1826. The three oldest argonauts on the roll of the survivors are Admiral Selfridge, born in 1805; Capt. John Short, in 1807, and Francis Roland, in 1809. In the van of the pioneer fleet was the Christoval Colon, she being one of the first four vessels to sail from Gotham. On Janu- ary 6, 1849, she started on her “voyage of discovery,” and, by an apt coincidence, the craft bore the name of the Genoa navigator. The skipper had an ominous surname—Cof- fin. And when, three days afterward, in the gulf stream, off Cape Hatteras, that grave- yard of seamen, the gallant craft was dis- masted in a hurricane, we felt that the only Coffin aboard would go down with the rest of us to Davy Jones’ locker. But the stout ship came out of her fight with old Neptune and Boreas right side up after lying all night on her beam ends. But she had to put into Rio for repairs. ———_ee. SHE WOULD KNOW. And Uncle Job Was Diffident About Giving the Information She Sought. From the New York Press. I ran across old Job Holloway, the fa- mous coach driver of half a century ago, yesterday. He is not less than eighty now. Once I rode with him on the National turn- pike through Virginia. There were seven passengers—six men and an old maid. The latter complained of sore throat one morn- ing, and inquired of the men how it could be cured. Each said that he had been a victim at some time or other, but had for- gotten how he had managed to-get rid of it. Finally, the oldest man in the party said that he had a bad case when he was young, but that the cure he used wouldn’t do the old lady any good. At first she thought this was a reflection upon her age, but, being of a sensible mind, she deter- mined to press him for his prescription. “But there is no use telling you, mad- am,” he protested. “It won’t do you any good. “I’m sure it will,” she urged. “Do tell me. I will certainly try it at once.” Thus driven to it, he said: “I just let my beard grow under my chin.’ ate eA One of the Effects. From the Chicago Record. “This talk of war is absurd, isn’t it?” “I don’t know about that.” “Do you think there's anything in it?” “Well, I noticed that Ponsonby has quit dyeing his beard and that he’s walking with a cane.” HOARDING O& GOLD Treasure Amassed aiid!, Withdrawn From Ciroulation. oH PLOWING 10: cINDIA The Wonderful Treasures Hidden by Oriental Princes. See YELLOW METAL LYING IDLE OW DID RUSSIA amass the immense store of gold which she has offered to Uncle Sam? The answer is sim- ple. She has been for ever so long a hoard- er of the yellow metal, withdrawing from circulation not only the product of her own mines, but also the foreign coin and gold bars im- ported into the country. Hardly any gold leaves Russia, while she receives annually from outside $60,000,000 to $90,000,000 worth of it. Thus she has got together a gigantic heap of specie by draining the channels of the monetary circulation of the world. The treasury of the czar now contains about $680,000,000 in gold. Gold in India. ‘The hoarding of gold, which signifies its withdrawal from circtilation, hinders the flow of the world’s commerce, and {s an in- jury to the latter. It would be an immense benefit to all mankind if the stores of the yellow metal now held by individuals in In- dia could be made available for general use. Ever since the dawn of History that country has been gathering gold and hiding it away. It was estimated by Dr. Soetbeer that iur- ing the half century previous to 1885 India hoarded $1,500,000,000 of sflver and gold— nearly one-third of the total'amount of coin- age in circulation in the world. Treasures of almost incalculable value are possessed by many Indian princes. Re- cently the Maharajah of Burdwan died, and the stock of gold and silver left by him was so large that no member of the family could make an accurate estimate of it. A report made to the British government by a secret agent stated that on the estate of the de- funct potentate were a number of treasure houses, one of them containing three rooms. ‘The largest of these three rooms was forty- [eight feet long and was filled with orna- ments of gold and silver, plates and cups, washing bowls, jugs, &c.—all of precious metals. The other two rooms were full of bags and boxes of gold mohurs and silver rupees. The doors of this and other treas- ure houses had been bricked up for nobody knows how long. ES! to a custom of the Burdwan Raj family, all of these valu- ables were in the custody of the mahara- Jjah’s wife, the vaults be! Raftached to her apartments, but none of tham was allowed to be opened save in thé’ presence of the master. One vault was filled with orna- ments belonging to different gods of the family. a hade Accumulating for, Centuries. It is known that this Noard has been in Process of accumulation’ for several cen- turies. Not long ago the,sum of $1,150,000 was drawn out of it for investment in land, the entire amount!being in. Sikka Tupees, none of which Havé been coined since 1835. Gold or othér. money thus hoarded 18 not put. away, with any inten- tion to, take it out. again. Qn the con- trary, only pressing necessity can force the owners -to reduce the stock of wealth. It is considered a point of honor not to bi into a hoard, Tne .proprietor will borrow rather than touck,If, the hoard be- ing treated like a family picture, not to be sold if it can be avoided. One native prince in India is known to be hoarding gold at present at the rate, of $250,000 a year. Every month he sends 40,000 or 50,000 silver rupees to agents in Calcutta and Bombay, who convert them into gold mohurs. “A mohur is worth about $7. Hiding Places. ‘Two other Indian princes, who died a few years ago, left hoards amounting to $20,000,- 000 each. Instead of spending these great heaps of money their descendants will add to them year after year and generation after generation. The natives of that country generally prefer to invest their means in ornaments for their families, which serve the purpose of a hoard. In fact, a large pact of the savings of the people are n the shape of jewelry; dower- jes are often composed of jewelry alone. The natives commonly bury their hoards, and among the poorer classes a favorite |- hiding place is a hole dug beneath the bed. Disused wells are sometimes em- ployed for tne same purpose. It is undoubt- edly a fact that many hoards thus deposit- ed are lost forever. It is estimated that in the Bombay presidency alone $50,000,000 worth of British sovereigns are treasured up, because they bear the design of St. George and the dragon, and are valued on religious grounds. India js a very religious country, and the gods take up immense quantities of gold, silver and precious stones. The temples contain vast amounts of the yellow and white metals. Century after century the exports of India have greatly exceeded the imports of that country, and consequently an uninterrupted stream of gold and silver has flowed thither. During the thirty-three years ended in 1892 India imported and kept about $625,000,000 in gold. That is, irdeed, a bottomless well into which a stream of treasure perpetu- ally flows, draining all the rest of the world. It is said that there is a huge amount of hoarded gold at Peking. The Chinese offi- clals commonly make large fortunes out of their places, corruption in that country being the almost universal rule. They are afraid to put their money into banks, be- cause their superiors would discover its ex- istence and confiscate the whole of it. So they buy gold bars and secrete them. Con- sequently, gold always commands a consid- erable premium at Peking. The World’s Gold Production. Meanwhile, thanks to newly discovered fields and improved methods of mining, the gold production of the world is steadily growing and will progressively increase for some years to come. The yield for 1895 has been the greatest in history, probably exceeding $200,000,000. The United States alone produced about $50,000,000 of this total—an increase of $11,000,000 over 1804. The new Cripple Creek district, only four miles square, is shipping; $1,000,000 worth of gold monthly. This field is as yet in its infancy. In South Africa are being developed the wonderful.mines of the Rand, which constitute the richest gold field ever known. It has an extent of forty miles, through which run a number of gigantic reefs of ore. These reefs con- sist mainly of quartz pebbles. embedded in a matrix of sand and quartz. There Is no gold in the pebbles, but. the material of the matrix is Zull of it. The ore yields an average of $14 per ton. It is calculated that the outpour of the Rand mines will have reached by the year 1900 an annual value of $100,000,000, and that within the next half century the total production of gold from these deposits will not fall short of three and a half billions of dollars. In 1894 they ylelded $35,000,000, and in 1895 they have produced about $40,- 000,000. At present 40,000 laborers are em- ployed. No satisfactory theory has been advanc- ed as to the geological process by which these beds came to exist. There is nothing of a sim!lar nature anywhere else in the world. The ordinary quartz reefs found elsewhere are merely cracks in the earth's crusts filled in with auriferous material; in the Rand the miner has to do with sedi- mentary deposits. These deposits belong to an ancient geologic period, which it was heretofore supposed could not possibly be gold bearing. Experts who examined the Rand fields a few years ago asserted that they were of no value. Naturally, they ex- pected to find gold near the surface if at all, whereas the paying ore bodies are deep down, extending,as has been said, to depths indefinite and undetermined. The total gold product of Africa in 1894 was 1,948,109 ounces, worth $40,271,000. Prob- ably it will be found to have risen nearly to $50,000,000 for 1895. It is certain that great and rich gold fields in various parts of the dark continent remain as yet un- found, or at all events undevelo| Many tribes of natives in Africa mine for gold in a crude fashion, mostly by washing the .gravels of the streams. The yellow metal thus obtained is carried to the coast, and there disposed of in barter at the trading stations established by various European countries. Along the so-called gold coast of Africa there is no native fam- ily without its ornaments of the purest gold ard often of artistic workmanship. The insjgnia of the court officials of a na- tive king are almost invariably covered with beaten gold, and gold dust among the People is a common medium of exchange. But for the climate. there would have been @ rush to the gold fields of west Africa long ago. In South America. Immense deposits of gold remain as yet almost untouched in South America. In Co- lombia and Ecuador are regions rich in the yellow metal. Stories of great “mother” veins in the mountain ranges, said to have been worked by the Incas, and now jeal- ously hidden by the natives, are frequently heard. Expeditions have been undertaken many times to find alleged lost mines, but they have been uniformly unsuccessful. ‘There are places in the mysterious region known as the “Interior,” om the eastern siope of tilt Andes, where much gold is found. From that section there is a con- stant flow of the yellow metal to the coast, amounting to a great quantity yearly. This land of goid, however, is not to be enter- ed. No white man has ever returned from it alive. The savages are fierce and brave, and are known to practice cannibalism. The country is a trackless wilderness, the onty means of communication being by the numerous waterways. To the villages along the coast come canoes from inland, each bearing its little burden of coffee, planta.ns, nuts and fru:ts, and usually, carefully wrapped in a leaf, a little gold dust or a nugget or two. Thus the gold flows in tiny streams to the coast, from which it is shipped by merchants in pay- ment for goods. It Is estimated that the world’s annual consumption of gold in the arts, chiefly in the manufacture of jewelry, is somewhere between $50,000,000 and $60,000,000, _ Prcb- ably about $1,500,000 worth of gold coin of the United States is melted yearly for such employment. This gov2riment makes fine gold bars of five ounces and upward for the use of jewelers and other manufac- turers, and they are more generally em- ployed. Similar bars are turn2d out by pri- vate refineries. Of such bars $10,000,000 worth are bought and used in this country every twelvemonth, —___ THE SQUARE-BUILT MAN. Two Occasions on Which He Said “Well, General,” to Wolseley. From the Saturday Review. “War correspondents!” exclaimed Lord Wolseley. “Some of them are desperately brave, while others are anything but heroes. The majority, I think, do their duty well, even when it leads them into tight places. By the way, talking of tight places and war correspondents, I remember an incident that may interest you. It was at the beginning of the Ashantee campaign, just after our land- ing; a square-built little man came up to me and said, speaking slowly, and with an un- mistakable American accent: “General, allow me to introduce myself; I a= oe correspondent of the New York Her- ald. I-- “Too busy to attend to him, I cut him short with ‘What can I do for you, sir?’ “He replied, imperturbably, with the same exasperating slowness, ‘Well, general, I want to be as near you as I can if there is any fightin’ to be seen.’ “ ‘Captain So-and-So ‘has charge of all the arrangements concerning correspondents,’ I rejoined, curtly; ‘you had better see him.* And with this I turned on my heel and went about my business.” “I saw no more of my correspondent with the aggravating coolness and slowness of speech for many a day. I did not even know whether he was accompanying the column or not. “Personally speaking, I was only in danger once during the whole expedition. It was shortly before we entered Coomossie. I had pressed forward with the advance troops, hoping to break the last effort at resistance and have done with the affair, when the evemy, utilizing the heavy covert, came down and fairly surrounded us. For a few minutes the position was critical, and every man had to fight, for the enemy’s fire was poured in at close quarters. They pressed upon us from all sides, dodging from tree to tree, and continually edging closer, hoping to get hand to hand. In the hottest of it my at- tention was caught by a man in civilian’s clothes, who was some fifteen or twenty yards in front of me, and wno was complete- jy surrounded by the advancing savages. He seemed to pay no heed to the danger he was in, but, kneeling on one knee, took aim, and fired again and again, and I seemed to see that every time he fired a black man fell. I was fascinated by his danger and coolness. As our main body came up and the savages were driven back, I went forward to see that no harm came to my civilian friend, who rose just as I reached him. To my astonish- ment it was thé correspondent of the New York Herald, and he began again in the same sk calm Way ‘Well, seneral— ‘Again I intdru; lucky to escape. re surrounded?” “! ‘Well, general,’ he began again, ‘I guess I was too much occupied by the niggers in en to pay much attention to those be- ind.’ “That was evidently the simple truth. Whatever men may say in the future about Henry M. Stanley, no one that has seen him in danger will deny that his courage is of the first quality. I took a liking to him on the spot, and we became great friends; nor has anything occurred since to alter my opinion of him.” . ——_-o-+_____ She Trapped a Tramp. From the Morning Oregonian. Last evening a tramp rang the door bell at a house on 9th street, and, when the lady of the house came to the door, he wanted something to eat. She told him she had nothing for him, and attempted to shut the door, when he put his foot against it to prevent her, and insisted on entering the house. This scared the woman, and ex- erting all her strength, she slammed the door to and ran out to the kitchen to fasten the other door. When the front door was slammed the tramp’s thumb was caught and jammed so fast that he could not get away He began shouting to be released, and made as much noise as a pig under a gate. The employes of a stable near by paid no attention to his noise for a long time, imagining some citizen had come home in a tipsy condition, and was having trouble in getting into his house. At length the row attracted a crowd, and the tramp explained the situation. Some one went around to the rear of the house, and in turn explained the situation to the woman, who unlocked the door and released the tramp. Not relishing the attention he had excited, and feariug that a policeman might happen along, he ran off down the street as fast as he could go, with his thumb in his mouth. ee ee An Eye for Proportion. From Punch. ed him: ‘You were idn’t you see that you vii She—“Oh, Mr. Jones—thcse two lovely poems of yours in this week’s—a—a—"" He (a poetical star of the seventh magni- tude)—“You mean my two sonnets, in the Weekly Sundew?” She—“Yes. How exquisite they both are!” He (much pleased)—“‘And which did you like best?” She—“Oh—thbe longer one!” THE WOODEN-LEGGED G00SE STORY. ress Se “Eh-yah! It shore takes all brands of people to fill.up a world,” remarked Alkali Ike, in a reminiscent way to the inquiring and credulous tourist, who had been lavish with his cigars and other things good for man, in establishing an intimacy with the festive Isaac.“‘But I reckon the quaintest an’ most original gent that ever I had the pleasure of meetin’ up with was a feller by the name of Rawson, that used to be min- glin’ around in the settlement, sorter cas- ually referrin’ to his wooden-legged goose stery. “This yere Rawson never comes yere at all, that I know of. He’s jest yere an’ shcok down an’ settled as if he has alwers been present, the first anybody is aware of him. An’ his wooden-legged goose story is as much a part of the town, the first any- body notices it, as the public square or the lynchin’ tree is. It never dawns on us at all, but is ancient history from the start, similar to some old maids you meet up with tuat "pear to have been born with spitty curls an’ a pervadin’ horror of the tyrunt man. “Thar hain’t no first time when the rest of us hears this yere tale of his’n. It never has po beginnin’ before the time when Rawson is in the habit of sayin’ that suthin’ or ruther sorter reminds him of that thar wooden-legged goose story which everybody has heard time an’ agin. An’ thar never was a time when it wasn’t fash- lonable to answer him that we'd heard it. “It got to be a regular proverb in the set- tlement. ‘As old as Rawson’s wooden-leg- ged goose story’ was as much a standard sayin’ as ‘Don’t keer if I do!’ is, all the world over. The schoolmaster used write it in the children’s copybooks, an’ the Rev. Jack Jonks used it in his sermons eccasionally. It "peared in the columns of the Clarion quite frequent, an’ in the courts every now an’ then. It was as much standard measurement of age as wrinkles on a cow’s horn. “Rawson alwers allowed it was old to everybody, an’ everybody agreed with him. An’ I am sanguine that it would have been goin’ on in the same way right now if it hadn’t been for a tourist, who poked up hi head one day an’ asked how Rawson’ wcoden-legged goose story went, anyhow. He'd ‘heard’ quite numerously about the story, an’ he wanted to hear the yarn it- self. “Wal, the man he asked about it said Fe’d forgotten it, an’ so did the next nine. Then these yere ten men each asked several others about it, an’ every beggar of "em tad forgotten it, too, This started the in- quiry, an’ it pervaded its way clear through the settlement, an’ gvery man, woman an’ child in the place had forgotten the story. Firally, two honest men—me an’ another feller—got together an’ by feelin’ around found out that neither one of us had ever beard it at all. Away went the inquiry agin, and bime-bye the fact was unearthed that nary soul, large or small, in the set- tlement had éver heard it. “It "peared that everybody had been ac- customed to believe that everybody else had heard it, an’ had let it go at that rather than to ‘pear to be so almighty far behind as not to know what was stale an’ antique to ev- erybody else. Rawson was away at the time, an’ before he got back the settlement had been ransacked an’ shook up from po- tato hole to front porch, an’’right smart of the claim holders an’ farmers in the county had been raked over, an’ it was set: tled that nobody, from the least to the lon; anywhurs, furabout or near, had ever heard the story. So “Wal, when he comes back, Rawson is welcomed like a prodigal son,.qn’.the wood- en-legged geese story is asked for. He hems an’ haws arownd, suys that’ \y has heard It till they're, ti so old he’s ashamed to tell it agin, an’ sa.on. We keep pesticatin’ with himti? fi he gits his back up and declineg.se-tell-the story any at all.’ Thar is Arig that you can lead a hoss to water, but you can’t sorter commence to make him drink, an’ you may think it impossible to make a man tell a story when he bows his neck an’ refuses to recite it. Rut we figgered some different, ‘an’ after Rawson had p’intedly swore he wouldn’t tell that thar story we conspired to rope it out of him. ) a “Accordin’, one Saturdfy night, several Prominent clitizens—including myself—es- corts this yere perverse an’ bull-headed man out to the lynchin’ tree. an’ stands him up on a temporary constructed platform, with the noose end of a lariat arovdnd neck, an’ several able-bodied members he re- form committee attached to the other end. The word has gone round the settlement that Rawson is goin’ to git off his jestly- celebrated wooden-legged goose story, an’ everybody is thar present, similar to a feet shampeter. “The event has been announced close of the school, an’ the scholars is unani- mously thar. Fond fathers bring their chi}- dren, an’ dotin’ mothers is present with their infants in their arme, Miss Gladys Mork rounds up her Sabbath school class. an’ Col. Handy Polk shappyroans a gang of personally-conducted eastern -tourists. The Rev. Jack Jonks is conspicuous, and four amiable gents brings a poor sick man on his cot an’ locates him whur he can’t fail to see an’ hear it all. Around the out- skirts of the assemblage the farmers’ wagons {s drawed up, all of ‘em full to the rim, an’ everybody standin’ up, so’s not to miss any of it. It is considered a valuable object lesson to great an’ small to beho!d the perdickymunt that obstinacy an’ bull- headedness will git a man into. “Col. Handy Polk steps forward an’ make: a few appropriate remarks, an’ then an- nounces that our friend, Mr. Rawson, will now endeavor to entertain us with h's famous wooden-legged goose story. But Rawson r’ars back an’ declines to turn a wheel, let the chips fall whur they happen to, as the feller says. “T've done proclaimed, repeated an’ fre- quent, that I hain’t a-goin’ to tell no wood- en-legged goose story whatever,’ says he, ‘an’, by the jumpin’ gee-whillikins, I'm a man of my word! That thar tale remains right whur it is at!” “Oh, I reckon you are sorter laborin’ under a misapprehension, as it were, Raw- son,” said Col. Polk. “The Vox Populi an- nounces that you are goin’ to tell it, an’ thar is every indication that you are. Let "er go, gentlemen!” “Accordin’, the reform committee heaved an’ Rawson left the bar’l an’ clumb up in the air about three feet, with the assist- ance of the rope, an’ then came slowly down agin, while the crowd, an’ even the sick man,’ smiled in happy anticipation. But when he arrives at his bar’l agin Raw- son is still that onnacher’lly obstinate, he rubs his Adam's apple doggedly an’ de- clines to unbuzzom himself of the story any at all. “Next time they drug him up a little higher, an’ kept him up a little longer, also without success. The third time they runs him up they pause to give him a chance to view the landscape o'er, so to speak, but without result. When he comes down Rawson paws at his neck, which is stretched considerable, an’ announces that he hain't a-goin’ to git that thar wooden- legged goose story out of his system, even if they keep him strung up from then till the next Fourth of July, an’ that settles it! Which ft don’t, for the stranglers r’ar back on the rope an’ drug him up with a run that butts his obstinate head agin the limb with a fury that makes his arms an’ legs fly around ‘like a jumpy-jack, an’ thar they held him for a spell, an’ ly ob- serve his contortions, which is plenty en- thusiastic an’ vivid. “When he comes down for the iast time a dish rag is a fool compared with Rawson, he’s that limp. But Dr. Slade fetches him arcund after a while, an’ then he rubs his neck an’ pipes, plenty feeble an’ broken- sperrited, that the reason he won't tell his wooden-legged goose story is burcuz he hain’t got none. Moreover, he hain’t never had none. Thar never was. no wooden- legged_ goose story, whatever, an’ he has been deceivin’ his trustin’ feller-men all this long time an’ posin’ as a youmerist on the strength of a yarn that never existed. “Right thea Brother Rawson came bur- cussed near goin’ aloft an’ stayin’ thar till the rope rotted. But wiser counsel pre- vailed, an’ he was permitted to vamouse, which he done prompt an’ unanimous, sim- ilar to a puff of smoke. An’ that is the last I_ever beholds of that thar quaint man, Rawson.” ——.__ A STRANGE FACULTY. Objects Oddly Photographed on the Retina of a Hum: Eye. From the Atlanta Constitution. A special to the Constitution from Slyv: nia states that the Telephone has discov- ered a man who is endowed with one of the strangest faculties that mortal ever possessed. He is different from other men only in his eyes. He says they were in- jured when he was a hoy, gazing too long one day at a receding train. Whether this was the cause or not, from that day until at the | the present time the first impression @ swiftly moving object makes upon the eye is continued on it for an indefinite ume, even after the body itself has long stopped moving. This may not be a perfectly clear explanation to those who do not und the exact nature of his case, so, to make it plain, I will give a few instances, numbers of which, of course, occur every day. Not long ago he was one day watching @ cat out in the yard, as it was attempting to creep upon @ bird. When close to its prey the cat suddenly made a spring, and then, according to his way of viewing i, the feline kep: right on sailing through the air as far as his eye could reach, and was at last*lost in the tlue distance. Ané yet it was only an illusion, he knew, for look- ing down on the ground at the end of per- haps half a -ninute, he saw the cat just where it had really landed. Except in a few cases he is rarely ever deceived by this strange !d'osyncrasy. Nor is there ever an illusion with stat‘onary ob- jects moving ordinarily slow. There must be a sudden movement to put in motion this curious freak of his optics. One morn- ing he saw one of his neighbors walk up to a fence and spring up into the air to jump over it. He was not surprised.when he saw him go shooting on up through the pure ether above. He watched him appar- ently about a minute until he was lost to sight amid the clouds that floated over- head. And yet, at the end of the illusory period, he saw his neighbor right side up with care on the other side of the fence, as he explains it, it seems to be a kind of reverie that the eye falls into on these oo- casions, and which, when it fades away, generally in abcut a minute or less time, leaves the real object and its real position en defined as they are to other 0. One afternoon he was watching some boys at play in the road. One of them, a very active ttle fellow, took a running start and turned a somersault; and then he saw what no other man, perhaps, has ever seen. Down that road the little fel- low went over and over on hands and feet, turning somersaults after somersaults in endless succession. For about half a mile he watched the youthful acrobat as he Went spinning over the hills and far away. It was a peculiar and amusing thing to See this boy go whirling down the with such ease and rapidity. He did not alarm himself about h'm, however, for when the spell was ended he saw the little fellow playing in the sand with his com. panions. What becomes of the true image when his eye falis into this strange reverie he does not know; the fiction or fantasy seems to monopolize the whole scope of his vision for the short time that it lasts. He says he has lots of sport sometimes when he goes out rabbit hunting. Very often he delights in all the excitement an@ Pleasure of a chase for a long time after common-eyed hunters have ceased to en- joy it. For instance, he went out the other day with a friend and a couple of good dogs. In a large, open field they jumped @ rabbit, and it started across the field, wit the dogs close behind. In reality, it was only a few moments before they had caught and killed it; but to him they kept right on in hot pursuit clear across field and into the woods beyond. -It intensely exciting, and he was cepying hands and shouting to the dogs, amazed companion, with the rabbit in his hand and the dogs by his side, was won- dering if he had gone crazy. Thus, when- ever he goes out, he always has the pleas- ure of a long and exciting chase. There is only one inconvenient thing about it, how- ever, and that is, he never the dogs capture the prey. ag I “You black rascal? su... .gain, hey? I guess we'll have"to send you and the mule back to its owner.” “De Lawd and he's com ~..ah. Two kind geatie- “Come out neve, men dope tie dis mule ter my back "bliged me ter bring it home for a gift.” ~