Evening Star Newspaper, January 6, 1924, Page 62

This article, recounting one of the most gallant stands in the his- tory of the American Indian—or in any history, Indeed—is scarcely less remarkable for its authorship ! than for its facts. The facts them- ‘ melves have assumed almost tradi- j tional dimensions in the region where they are best known, the Canadian northwest; but never be- fore has the complete story been told, nor ever at all from the standpoint of the Indlan. Chief Buffalo Child Long Lance, who as a qualified journalist has undertaken.to write a history of his race, recently visited the scene of this tragic exploit. Through conversations with Sounding Sky, the aged father of Almighty Voice, himself a warrior of note (having fought with distinction under his own father, Chief One Arrow, in the northwest rebellion of 1885), and with Spotted Calf, the outlaw's mother, who exhorted her son through the long days and nights of the battle, he gained a full re- cital of the circumstances in the language of the Indians and here presents them in English, though still Infused with the Indian spirit. By Chief Buffalo Chila Long Lance, a Chief of the Blood Band of the Blackfoot Tribe. ERE died three brav This tragic phrase, hav- ing withstood the ele- ments through the twenty- #ix years of peace that have existed between the Indians and the white people in the great northwest, re- mains today carved in a tree trunk near Duck lake, askatchewan. It was carved there In Cree syllabics by the notorious Indian outlaw, Almighty Voice, America’s last Indian to die fighting the white man. And it marks the spot on which he slew his final three victims from the Canadian mounted police. Almighty Voice's bloody career be- gan on October 16, 1895, when he escaped from the police after having been arrested for killing a steer. This animal belonged to the government, but Almighty Voice kinsmen to have mistaken it for one of his father's herd. At all events, having unlocked his chains with a key taken from a sleeping guard, Almighty Voice, a marvelous runner, #ped home. He declared to his mother “The mounted police told me today that they were goinz to hang me for Killing a steer. But they will never put a rope around my neck. I will die fighting them!" One of the police afterward admitted that he had said this to the prisoner as a joke. The actual penalty was a month’s imprisonment. This Almighty Voice never knew. In carrying out his vow Almighty Voice set a record unparalleled in the annals of the Royal Northwest Mounted Police. He brought down seven mounties and scouts during the follow- ing two years, and culminated his career by making the greatest singl handed stand in the history of the North American west. Early next morning after his escape the mounted police called at his father's camp and searched every inch of the place—but one—for the vanished prisoner. In a corner of the main liv- ing quarters a pile of provisions | covered over with blankets, It is a strange fact that they never once ap- proached this spot nearer than three or four feet, although they very dili- gently searched every other part of the inclosure. Tt is generally. belleved at Duck lake today that the police knew ‘what was under those blankets, besides | provisions; but they aiso knew what 1t would mean to approach it. | After the mounties had gone that| morning Almighty Voice left the camp; with one of his wives for the Kenis- tino reserve in the north, taking along with him his muzzle-loader and a couple of horses. The mounted police, ‘world-famous for their unrelenting effi- ciency as man-hunters, immediately dis- | patched Sergt. C. C. Colebrook and a halfbreed scout to retake their pris- oner, cost what it might. One morning they came upon Al- mighty Voice in the act of picking up | a prairie chicken which he had just| ®hot. When he saw the policemen ap- proaching he reloaded his gun and stood waiting. At twenty yards he ordered a halt. Sergt. Colebrook vance. His gun (13 I continued his ad- was pointed at Al- mighty Voice. “Stop, or I'll shoot!"— came the Cree command. This was interpreted to the sergenat by the half- breed scout. “No!" said Sergt. Col brook, “I am going to do my duty He rode on. “Crack!"—a bullet came | tearing into his neck: he fell forward | in his saddle, a dead man. H * ok % ‘ HE killing of Colebrook marked the real commencement of the great| manhunt. Almighty Voice was now outlawed with a substantial price on his head, dead or alive. From this time on until May 24, 1597—nearly two years later—he is dropped into mys- terious oblivion by all books dealing with his career. The mounted. police fprce scoured the country for him in vain. Not once were they able to pick up as much as a sign of his trail. “The Riders of the Plains,” the of- ficlal history of the Royal Northwest Mounted Police, says: “During this period Almight Voloe never showed himself among his people, nor did he apparently hold any communication with them." As a matter of truth, Aimighty Volce had constantly visited his people. He had spent much of his time with his parents. His presence was discovered on that date in 1897, however, and re- sulted in the shooting of Napoleon Venne, a halfbreed scout who was gulding a party of mounted policé on his trall. Venne still carries the bullet in his chest. The reason why this had missed the scout's heart by an inch was that Almighty Voice had granted the request of his young cousin, Going- Up-To-Sky, to try his prowess. Almighty Volce himself never pulled a trigger that he did not bring down his victim. The shooting of Venne aroused genuine alarm in the surrounding countryside; for every one knew that Almighty Voice was in the neighbor- hood again and they knew that he was now on the warpath in deadly earnest. In addition to Going-Up-To- &ky, he now was also accompanied by his brother-in-law, Topean. He had assumed the offensive and become a is sald by his| He was of regal descent, having.been the eldest grandchild of the noted Ch'ef One Arrow who led the Duck Lake Indians In the northwest re- bellion. Altogether, he was daunt- less, resourceful, physically powerful and enduring; a man who could well Justity the alarm which he had now aroused throughout the northern limits of Saskatchewan, The news of Almighty Volce's sud- den reappearance after two years of baffiing evasion was received with grave concern at Prince Albert, forty miles away. At midnight twelve mounted policemen under Capt. Allan set out on horseback for the Minne- chinas hills. At the same time an- other force under Inspector Wilson was dispatched from Duck Lake. Capt. Allen's party, riding past Bellevue hill the next morning, no- Indian’s Side of Great Struggle Told for First Time in Words of One of That Race—Brave Warrior, With Two Kinsmen, Fought for Days While Besieged by Many Members of North- west Mounted Police—His Mother, Some Distance Away, Shouted Encouragement — Field Indian Had Gone Three Guns Required After movement of the day. The Indians, perceiving their intention, were on the edge of the bluff awaiting the onslaught. Scarcely had the fringe of the bush been reached when Corpl, Hockin recelved his death wound, & bullet in the chest. The rush continued, both Indlans and raiders firing as fast as their guns would operate. The Indlans were ticed in the distance three objects FAST AS THEIR GU moving toward a small bluff. “I see three antelopes over there,” one man reported. But when they approached | closer they were surprised to discern | the forms of three Indians stripped for battle. The captain knew instantly that he| had located his quarry and he ordered | his men to charge. * ok ok % ALMIGHTY VOICE walted until the party had advanced to firing range. Then he opened up. The first | bursts of Indlan fire brought down | the two officers commanding the de- tachment, Capt. Allan and Sergt. Raven. Capt. Allan's right arm was smashed with a bullet and Sergt. Raven sagged in his saddle with his thigh dangling uselessly over the| side of his horse. Corpl. Hockin now assumed command of the detach- ice’ had counted his latest “coo"—one kiiled and four wounded—and had taken cover in a small clump of bush now known as the Almighty Voice bluft. His people knew that he would not come out alive, for he had selected this site on which to make a final stand against the mountfes. Corpl. Hockin's detaachment, which stood guard awaiting the rein- forcements which had been sum- moned, was joined by the party from Duck Lake. That afternoon this com- bined force was reinforced again by a command consisting of every spare man from the Prince Albert bar- racks. At 6 o'clock in the evening Corpl. Hockin called for volunteers to charge the bluff. Nine policemen and civilians answered the call. This was the most disastrous v killer., With an Indian, this means that he intends to get as many as he can before he is gotten. Twenty-six years of healthy growth had given him a great, wiry frame of body which stood well over six feet in moc- casins. Reared in the primitive, adventur- ous environment of the Indians of those days, he had become famed as a runner, & hunter and & man of in- domitable courage and independence. using their clumsy muzzleloaders, “THE RUSH CONTINUED, INDIANS AND RAIDERS FIRING AS FAS' NS WOULD OPERATE.” and the mounties their Winchesters. E. Grundy, postmaster of Duck Lake. | was the next to fall, with a bullet through the heart. An instant later Constable Kerr went death with a ball in the chest. Of the Indians Topean whs killed on the edge of the bluff, and Almighty Voice recelved & bullet which shat- | tered his right leg. 13 The tragic consequericks brought about a retreat of the attacking party, without even time to remove the dead. That night, however, the besfegers endeavored to burn the In- dians out of the bush. The attempt ‘was a failure. Not until now did the mounted police realize the size of the job they had undertaken. A third call for re- inforcements was sent out. A cordon of pickets was thrown completely around the bluff to prevent the escape of the outlaws in the darkness. That night in the Regina Mounted Police barracks, 200 miles to south, a ball celebrating the send-off of the queen's jubllee contingent was at its helght when suddenly the band struck up “God Save the Queen.” Men and women, standing rigidly silent, looked at each other In bewilderment. When the music ceased, Col. Herchimer, the commanding officer, announced that the sending of the mounted police contingent to the queen's jubilee in England was temporarily canceled: that grave news had just been re- celved from the north. He orders that every available man was to start north at once. This force consisted of twenty-five men, a nine-pounder field gun and a Maxim gun, under Assistant Commis- stoner Mcllree and Inspector McDon- nell. Another detachment of rein- forcements left Prince Albert the next CHIEF BUFFALO CHILD LONG LANCE, THE AUTHOR, IN CERE- MONIAL GARB. HE WAS BORN IN A HONOR GRADUATE OF CARLISLE INDIAN BECAME. AN SCHOOL, WAS PROMINENT IN ATHLETICS, ENLISTED IN THE CANADIAN EX- PEDITIONARY FORCE AND CAME OUT A CAPTAIN. HE WAS WOUNDED TWICE AND DECORATED FOR HEROISM. ' down to his| issued | day under Inspector Gagnon. This brought to the field practically the entire mounted police force of Sas- katchewan. Added to this, hundreds of volun- teers had been raised and rushed to the scene. A transport was recruited at Duck Lake, equipped with picks and shovels and sent out to throw up earthworks to enable the troops to advance on the bluff under cover. This, in case they should not be able to extermi- nate the Indians with shell fire. So disastrous had been the outcome of the first two attacks on the bluff that orders were issued from headquarters forbidding the mounties to make any further ralds. Enough lives had been lost; it was realized that field op- erations must now be adopted. * % % x S the stillness of night settled over the tragic fleld on Friday eve- ning, Almighty Voice shouted over to the troops in Cree: “We have had a | good fight today. I have fought hard and I am hungry. You have plenty | of food; send me some, and tomorrow we will finish the fight. Early the next morning a crow flew {over the bush. “Tang!" went Al- | mighty Voice's gun, and the crow ! dashed headlong into the bush. One of the Mounties remarked, “Isn't it ) funny; that fellow never wastes a bullet. Something falls every time he | shoots Almighty Volce's old mother had | stood on top of the rise just back of | the bluff all day shouting encourage- | ment to her son. She recounted the bold exploits of his father and of {his grandfather, Chief One Arrow, jand she urged him to die the brave he |had shown himself to be. He an- | swered her affectionately from time |to time, informing her how he was faring. After the two attacks on Friday, he {sald, he and his boy cousin had dug a hole, got into it and covered it over. with brush. Two mounted police lay dead ten feet from this pit, he sald. He had taken their guns and ammu- nition and thrown away his old muz- zleloader. (This latter crude weapon up to this time had accounted for al his victims, however.) “Tam eating the bark off the tree: I am almost starving. I have dug as far as my arm will reach, but can get no water. But do not fear; I shall hold out.” Excitement had become intense in the surrounding countryside, as all day Saturday fresh troops were arriv- ing on the fleld from Regina, Prince Albert and Duck Lake. The whole citizenry of northern Saskatchewan seemed to have flocked there over night. Dr, Stewart, who still practices at Duck Lake, and who owns the last gun used by Almighty Voice, was one of the men who rescued the dying body of the gallant Corp. Hockin from the edge of the bluff. Constable O'Kelly, “the fighting Irishman,” with his field glasses discovered the body of the corporal, and he belleved that he had seen it move. He called for a volunteer to make a dash with him down the hill and across the low- land to the bluff to attempt a rescue. Jumping Into a buckboard, the doctor and the constable went down the hill as fast as thelr horse would run. O'Kelly piled the llmp form in the back of the rig while Dr. Stewart sprang out and held the horse. They whirled around and beat a galloping retreat through a shower of bullets, one of the constable’s boots. Dr. Stewart attributes O'Kelly's escape to the fact that he kept danc- ing from position to position both on the ground and In the buckboard. And he ascribes his own escape to the fact that Almighty Voice knew him very well and desisted from taking a shot at him as he stood holding the horse. “He could have made quick work of me Iif he had wanted to,” said the doctor, “but he knew that I was there as a medical attendant.” * k% % B Saturday. evening the fleld guns, a nine-pounder and a seven- pounder, were well in place, and at § o'clock the first shells were sent thun- dering into the bluff. The second shot got the range, and the rest went plump into the spot where the fugitives were known to be ensconced. ‘When the barrage had ceased Al- mighty Volce shouted, “You have done well, but you will have to do better.” Darkness settled quickly over the landscape, and a silence as sickening as the whining, thundering shells of a'few minutes before bored itself Into the very soul of* the volunteers. “Men heard each other breathing,” oneé of them related to me, Creeping im Behind the thoughts of their own @ead comrades came the half-sad | fore him is a little pile of papers. one of which removed a spur rnml Days Without Food, Water or Sleep. realization that tomorrow would spell the eternal end of the two creatures below, who had partaken of neither foBd, water nor sleep during the past three .days. Right or wrong, they had displayed a quality which all men admire. One of them also confided to me that he secretly hoped that the In- dians would escape during the night, never to be heard of again. No one will ecer know what was in the heart and mind of Almighty Voice during that gruesome stillness. The night wore on, interrupted by only one mysterious shot which took the hat off of the head of one of the pickets. Then, attragted by the smell of the bodies on the' bluff, a group of coyotes gathered on the lowland be- low and set up their dolorous chorus of “yip, y1p yip, hoo-o0,” which lasted far into the night. Then another sound floated from the opposite hill, just behind the bluff —“Hi-heh, hi-heh, hey-o, hey-o." It was Almighty Voice’s wrinkled old mother chanting her son's death song. “I wanted to go in that bluff and take my son In my arms and protect him,” she told me, sweeping her arms through the motions of an affection- ate embrace. Again and again she had tried to enter the bluff all during the four days" vigil, but each time she was interrupted by the police. | “They told me,” she said, “you must not go in there; it would not be nice | for us to have to kill a woman.” She continued: “I was very weak that night; I had not had anything to eat| for three days. I did not want to eat while my son was starving.” Presently a deep-toned echo to the old woman’s chant came rumbling out of the bluff. It was Almighty Volce answering his mother. That was the last time his voice was ever heard. * ¥ ¥ X AT 8 o'clock the next morning the big guns began belching forth their devastating storm of lead and iron. It was obvious that no living thing could long endure their steady beat. By noon the pelting ceased. At 1 o'clock volunteers, led by James Mc- Kay, Q. C. (now chief justice of Sas- katchewan), and Willlam Drain de- cided to make another raid on the bluff. The Mounties themselves had been . refused permission to rald again, On the first rush the volun- teers were not able to locate the hid- ing place of the Indlans. Remarkably well fndeed had they concealed them- selves beneath their brush covering. A second charge, however, brought them upon the gun pit. Here lay the body of Almighty Votce. His young cousin, also lying in the hole, was still alive. According to old Henry Smith, a half-breed, who removed the dead outlaw’s body to his mother's tepee, as he had promised her, one of the mounted policemen walked up to the hole and put a finishing bullet through the wounded lad's head. Almighty Voice was shot in seven places, but his death missive was a plece of shrapnel which split open his forehead. In the bottom of the gun- pit were two holes, the depth of man's arm, which had been dug by the outlaw fn a vain attempt to reach water. The bark from the surround- Ing trees had been stripped off and eaten. The bodles of Constable Kerr and Ernest Grundy, who had dashed into the bluff on Friday evening mever to Dbe seen allve again, were lying about ten feet from the hole—although they were killed before the pit had been constructed. The dead body of Going- Up-to-Sky, who had received a fatal wound In the second attack on Friday, was lying on the fringe of the bluff sbout twenty-five yards from the pit. The startling revelation that Al- mighty Volce had gotten out of the bluft on Saturday night and succeed- ed in working clear through the pidkets to a point some 100 yards be- yond, was brought to light by the finding of one of his blood-soaked moccasins at this outlying point and a crudely made crutch which he had abandoned just inside the bluft on his return. This discovery explained the mys- a | put in position. terious shot which clipped the hat off of the head of one of the volunteers during the uncanny lull on Saturday night. One of the pickets struck a match to light his pipe and in the same Instant a shot clapped out of the darkness and his hat whizzed off his head. On a small popular tree standing over the bodles of the dead mownted policemen was found that eloguent inscription carved in the Cree: “Here died three braves™ Almighty Voice, shortly befors ke was killed, had crawled out of his hole and asserted this noblest of In- dian tralits—admiration and recogni- tion of bravery even In his deadliest of enemies.” The tree bearing fhim commemorative tribute to the “Red Coats” stands today, the mute sen- tinel of America's last frontier. % k% VISITED the Almighty Voice bluit with the outlaw's mother, his so, his two brothers, Prosper and Gatlen, and the old halfbreed Henry Smithe It was a beautiful northern summees day. Under its peaceful quietness, broken only by the occasional short, gruff bark of a wolf-dog, it was hard 1o belleve that this lovely stretch of {bush and prairieland once echoed the thunder of the no: west rebellion and the cannon which wiped out Gitchi - Manitou - Wayo Almighty Voice. I stood at the pit and gazed long and thoughtfully he broad ‘slrcl"h of lowland at rising hiil beyond, where the field guns wera Then T turned around and looked up the abrupt west slope of the rise on which the bluft is sit- uated, and I could see the spot, about a hundred yards above, where the old mother stood shouting and singing t« her son during the four long da:s and nights of the slege. This reminded me to look forward the old mother to see how she was reacting to her first visit to this spot since she was carrled home exhausted on the tragic morning of May 28, 1897, 1 shall never forget the figure which met my gaze. With a sleeping grand- child strapped over her back, she was standing a little way back from the hole, soaking her tears in the corner of a erimson and yellow blanket. I watched her; she never once looked at the hole nor did she approach it nearer than ten feet. One hand was mopping her eyes and the other was picking blindly at the little twigs of red willow which crept up to her waist. Her head was bent as though she was ashamed of the emotions which she could not control. (Copyright, 1924.) acro STEPHEN LEACOCK AND HIS WILL Initiated Into Charms UPPOSE,” said the insurance agent, looking at me fixedly across the table, “suppose you dle” “All right,” I said, “suppose I do “Suppose you are run over by & train,” he went on. ‘All right,” 1 answered. “Or suppose you're badly mutilated, but not killed.” “Very good.,” I sald. “Or suppése you're on a holiday trip and get crushed in a motor acci- dent. “First rate,” I said. “Badly crushed In a motor acci- dent—" “You mean killed?" “Well, either killed or mangled be- yond all recognition. Or suppose you get yellow fever—" “Hold on,” I sald. “Stop. What's the use of wishing all these things on to me? Suppose you die! Eh, what! Suppose you get mangled up in something and crushed beyond all recognition. Suppose you get run over by a train, a heavy freight train. Let's discuss that. Or, suppose I live? Suppose I live for years and years? How would that be? When I'm ready to die I'll send for you.” In this way I got rid of the man and with him I dismissed the idea of death Now, this hapbened some years ago. All that time I was too poor to die. I couldn’t have stood the expense of it. Nevertheless, the Insurance man's words sunk in. I suppose that many a man has had his life profoundly altered by having an insurance agent say to him in that impressive way they have, “Suppose you die!" In my own case I put aside the idea until, with advancing years and pros- pects, the time has come when I can afford to die. It will no longer be the crushing financial blow that it would have been. So it comes about that I am able to spend quite a bit of my spare time in the luxury of getting ready for death. Deep in the recesses of a trust com- pany In a paneled room, where no sound from the street is heard, sits a neat, cheerful man, my executor. Be- He is arranging my “demise.” For it appears that I am not exactly to die; I am to have a “demise.” It {s more expensive, but there is more “class” to it. And even when I am gone I shall not precisely be dead, but merely “deceased.” * % x % ! O it comes about that we spend many a quiet afternoon in prepara- tion of my “demise” and “interment.” Lately we have devoted especial at- tention—my executor and I-—to draw- ing up my will. Nearly everything else has been attended to. He has had me so well insured that if a train ran over me now I should laugh at t. My funeral is as completely set- tled as a solar eclipse—it needs only the date. My assets have been “scheduled” and made “liquid"—in short, I have little reason to linger here except for getting my will into shape. People who have never made wills do not realize that doing 8§ becomes 2 pursult in itself. Up to the present date we have made about thirteen complete wills and over fifty codicils. As a literary exercise for the expres- slon of noble sentiments there is nothing like it. I know of nothing more entertaining than to retire into the depths of the trust company and write sentiments such as— “To my brother John, in recognition of the devoted affection which he has shown to me for fifty years, I leave the sum of one hundred and ten dol- lars.” Unfortunately it was the very week after 1 wrote this that my brother John refused to lend me his green- heart fishing rod, merely on the ground that I might break it, which necessitated the alterafion of the whole will. But even at that the continual alter- ing and changing of a Wil in pro- portfon as’ relations rise and fall in virtue is interesting in itself. I don't say that John is out for good. He may get back. A further charm is found in the beautiful grace and accuracy of lan- guage In a well drawn will. I hand over a plain, matter-of-fact statement to my executor and he converts it into a gem of thought Take, for example, this simple sen- timent as first explained to him: “I want to leave thirty-nine dollars to my sister Annie, but if she dles before I do, I don't want to leave it to her unless, of course, she has chil- dren, in which case I would leave it to the children equally, unless any child were dead, in which case the rest would get the share of that child, unless that particular child has grown up and when he died left children, who would, of course, each get a share of the thirty-nine dollars; but if all the children and the chil- dren’s children were dead, then the whole sum would go to the Royal Soclety of Canada in recognition of the unalloyed simplicity of its search after knowledge.” * X ¥ % THA’T sounds. a very simple idea. The main notion is that if they are alive they get it, and If they are dead they don’t. But after my ex- ecutor has handled that thought for | one afternoon it comes out in this tashion: nd I hereby give, bequeath, de- vise, pass over and hand out to the said Annie Caroline of the said coun- ty of Hochelagor, in- the said prov- ince, the sum of thirty-nine dollars, more or less and less or more, and I hereby direct my executors to Pay, hand over and cough up the said thirty-nine dollars, excepting only nevertheless that no such payment .shall be made, done, accomplished or put over if the said Annie Caroline shall at the time be dead, deceased or in any way extinct -and unavail- able for the purpose of the payment, in which such case the sald sum shall be paid to the surviving child or chil- dren of the predeceased in equal parts each to each less or more, except and unless any child or children shall have predeceased the deceased, in which such case or in all which such cases the share concerned shall pass | to the children If any not deceased, of th deceased child, but if all such are of Legal Phra deceased, Annle Caroline 'and her children’s children and the whole crowd, bunch or collection, then the principle sum of the bequest shall go, pass, move and get to the Royal So- clety of Canada in appreciation of fts extraordinary precocity and capacity and in particular recognition of the unalloyed simplicity which it has dis- played in the search after knowl- edge.” Even at that the thing Is not com- plete. My executor in reconsidering it found that it failed to say what happened if there was a third gen- eration if Annie Caroline married again or If the Royal Soclety aban- | doned its search after knowledge. A further interesting point for any- body who gets the will-making habit | is to learn the danger of sudden bursts of philanthropy. I don't mean a burst of philanthropy towards rela- tives but the much more dangerous access of generosity towards public bodles, charitable institutions and national enterprises. I have at vari- ous periods left money often for a week at a time to Harvard Universi- ty, to the Evil Guides, to the League of Natlons and the Ornithologleal So- clety of America. There is some- thing fatally attractive about these public bequests; such things as this, for example: “To the Ornithological Society of America I leave the sum of thirty- five dollars, such sum to be applied to the purchase of a stuffed bird, either a crow (Corbus Carnivo- rus) or a hen (Formica Ameri- cana), such crow or hen to be put in a glass case with my name in- scribed ofi it and placed in a museum to be called after me, such museum to be kept well aired and open to the public from seven am. on Mondays il midnight on Saturdays.” > Only those who have lived and worked in our colleges and public {nstitutions know how many of these generous gifts they recelve. But an even greater number are removed out of the wills In a sudden revolu- tion of remorse. As far I am aware, I have nothing on my own st at present, except perhaps the gift of 2 bust to the Authors' So- ciety of America, such bust to be any kind of bust that they feel like hav- ing. But this testamentary philanthropy 1s mot really in it for interest as com- pared with the use of a will in clauses like the following: “To my second cousin Alfred 1 seolog‘y. leave the sum of one dollar and one dollar only in the earnest hope that the low whelp will learn what a skunk he has been all his life.” The particular charm of this that there is no possible comeback rom Alfred. (Copyright, 1924.) Machinery of Muslin. OME noteworthy results have been obtained with muslin gears and pinfons which are not only very strong, but almost noiseless. The latter feature is of no small Im- portance. The machine shops of to- day are much noisier than those of twenty years ago. owing to the fact | that the machines for cutting and jplaning iron are run from three to six times as fast as formerly. These gear noises are very unfors tunate, but it is hoped by improved machinery and the use of varlous other materials which have been in- troduced within the last few years that this trouble will gradually dis- | appear. { There have been cmployed gears fand pintons made of a high grade of muslin which have been applied to a great variety of uses. One of them has been used on a boilermaker's punch and shear which previously gave considerable trouble, not only on account of noises, but in the ac- i tual breaking of the gears, due to excessive back lash and fly-wheel ac- tion on the machine. Such success was had with that particular pinion that the use was gradually extended, so that now, in one factory, it is be- ing used on ten-foot planing ma- chines, which are operated by elec- tric motors and compressed air clutches, as intermediate pinfons for the reverse motion. Various sub- stances had previously been tried, in- cluding bronze, but these would go to pieces In two or three weeks. Steel i would last much longer, but made an intolerable noise. Rawhide would seem to shrink and burn out quickly, and the factory people could very seldom find anything that would stand the work longer than three o four weeks at the most. 3 Automatic Tunneler. N and around New York city much use has been made of an automatio tunneling machine that bores its way through solid rock. It is the latest development of the compressed alr arill, being a machine which, using fifteen twenty-five-pound hammers, bores like an auger. Machines of various types haye been invented which have done good worlk for a short time, but which cost a great deal to operate because of the repalrs required. . Because of the ter- rific strain apd vibration to which they were subjected, they endured but a short time. The improved machine allows but one hammer In the set i work &t & time and, instead of trying to cut the hard rock, it chips it. The result is that the machine does mot tear itself to pieces, but works fts way ‘with comparative easa The set of hammers 'operate on a disk revolving at a speed of from two revolutions a mindté to ‘bne' every thiree or four minutes, depending apon the hardness of the rock. The muck lflhp! into & scoop, which then de- Mvers it to_an’ endless belt, making 1 the operation of tunncling ' ‘cod- tinuous one. The drill travels on a track, but must be reset every three and a half feet. Through that dis- tance the operation is automatic and the drill requires but one man to hane dle it