Evening Star Newspaper, September 6, 1925, Page 48

irst White Man Returns From the Dread River of Death BY FRANCIS GOW-SMITH. O MAN has ever returned be- fore from t . River of Death That I happened to be the first to do so is no credit to me. Less than a year ago, In unexplored Brazilian wilds, I was discovering dlamonds, fighting jaguars, shooting perilous rapi swimming uncharted rivers where alligators and man-eating fish lurk for human pre: and indeed living in constant fear for my life among some of the world's most primitive savages. If today 1 am safe with my trophies at the E; plorers’ Club in New York City, I freely give all credit for it to 10 vanic-stricken Indians. For op that exciting morning, when storm ¢f poisoned arrows splashed viclously about our dugout canoe into the waters of the River of Death, if they had not instantly reckoned their n heads more valuable than any lost Spanish gold mine, 1 know very well where my head could now be found. Smoked, dried and barbarically painted, it would be gracing not my vwn shoulders but the wigwam of some untamed chieftain in the jungles of Matto Grosso. Little did I realize my rashness when I firet turned my canoe up the Rio das Mortes—that diamond-studded, old-hiding watery avenue—into the heart of earth’'s most mysterious wil- derness, where a million unknown In- lians roam in naked savagery. M QOME unique specimens of their war 2 clubs, poisoned arrows, spears and fantastic ornaments—hitherto un- known to science—I have brought back with me from Brazil to the [useum of the American Indian in ew York. I only wish that I could convey to the reader pression of the sinister which these relics come. And 1 wish that so many of my notes and photographs and treasured land from rophies had not disappeared into the | avage rapids of the Araguaya Rive hat day when we capsized and saw 1wo of our.men sucked down to their death in the whirlpools. I still recall that adventure with a thrill. We had been shooting at 30 miles an_hour a terrific series of cas- cades. Suddenly a shriek arose from the Indian in the bow, and simul taneously a huge rock seemed to rise | bodily under us out of the mountains of foam. With a rending crash it hurled our clumsy dugout on its side, and out we all went, bag and bag- sage, into the watery tumult. As I fought my way to on a slimy rock, I caught in one indelible glimps the agonized faces of those lost In- dians in the whirlpool's grip. The other natives und safety like n on isolated rocks; and there we sat perched under the brolling sun, maddened by clouds of mos- quitoes, for four long hours. The Indians kept up a dismal chanting call for help—"Caraja-ku-u-u. Caraja- ku-u-u”—until at last their fellows in better-piloted canoes came _down through up. But irretrievably gone were my tographs which would help me to ¥ 5o vividly the fascination of my solitary stnesses B 4 Rmflzon, west of central south of the mighty of the Tocantins and east of Roosevelt's famous River of Doubt, lies a mat ted wilderness of jungle, mountain and spreading plain—more than a million square miles which have not known the tread of white men’s feet since time began. Here brute force relgns supreme. You and your gun are the only law. And who can say what El Dorado, what fulfillment of adventure, awaits you there? Let me picture one moonlight scene on the banks of the River of Death. For three days we had been paddling up its uncharted reaches, keeping well away from the northern shore where I knew the hostile Chervantes Indians had been trailing us, silent and un seen, ever since we turned westward from the north-and-south thorough fare of the Rio Araguaya into their forbidden domain. * % % % "THAT evening, after a flash of sun- set glory about the western forest, the night had enveloped me and my 10 native canoemen with tropic suddenness. As the blanket of gloom fell upon us, the sinister symphony of insect hordes lashed forth in shrifl clamor through the air. Above the din floated the call of some high-fly- g night bird. The chattering monkeys and gor- geous-feathered parrots were suddenly still. Flaring weirdly about me were the ceaseless green flashes of phos phorescent insects. All the friendly animal life of the day had ceded dé- minion over the wilderness to uncanny creatures of the night. Even that miasmic stench, rising to irritate my nostrils from age-old accumulations of decay in the swamps, seemed to con- spire to make a nightmare of my soli- tude. None of the Indian crew happy. hey had not slept a wink since we started up the river; tonight a few were resting uneasily on the sand. with others posted around as sentinels. ¥or my own part, long since inured to insect bites and water-soaked slumber on the ground amidst tropical down. vours, T had not bothered to pitch my tent. Better to leave the canoe ready- stocked for a quick geta if we were attacked. True, we were supposed to be safe “THE SLIGHTEST SCRATCH FROM THESE POISONED WEAPONS MEANS QUICK AND AGONIZING DEATH.” some faint fm-| the fatal rapids to pick us| on this southerly shore of the river, jbut the hostile Chervantes of the op- posite bank were reported to be power- ful swimmers;.and for that reason I had even extinguished the campfire after hastily cooking a frugal supper of rice and pork fat. For I had no de- sire to encourage some savage to swim over and pick us off with arrows from the outer darkness as our figures were silhouetted against the fire. There were good reasons why we did not choose to sleep in the 30-foot dug- out on the river. Back in the early days of my trip when 1 left Registo— last outpost of civilization—to float down the Araguaya, a crowd had as- sembled to bid me farewell and to pre- dict that I would never return. And one of them had particularly warned me against sleeping in the canoe. For, infestiug the slackwaters of these rivers, the sucuru—a huge South American water-snake—has an unpleasant habit of hauling a sleeping human from his cance and crushing the life out of him, to swallow then at leisure on the slimy bottom of the stream. | T personally met by first sucuru, by | the way, in nearly as disastrous a fashion as this. It was our second | morning on this same {ll-omened river, Attracted by a flaming cluster of orchids across an inlet in which I was | taking my early morning bath, I de- termined to wade across and get them. * ok % % WITH 2 sharp jungle knife I set out<and was promptly assailed | by an enormous shoal of tiny fish that bit my legs with teeth like needles. Distracted by this queer ex- perience, I fafled to notice a motion- |less, dead stick protruding from thg | water—until it uncoiled in sudden | fury and lashea itself around me! | "Never will I forget the deadly pres- | sure of those constricting coils, in | which I struggled with an excess of | turious” strength. Nor will I forget the sense of exalted refief when the knife I so fortunately carried had hacked the 20-foot monster to pleces. Three times ' ter I met and battled | with the suc.ru, and have brought | home with me three skins, 30 feet in length. | it my Indian guides had another | reason, besides fear of water snakes, for spending their nights on shore. The Chervantes, they told me, have a trick of swimming silently on their | backs, almost invisible with only nose and mouth above the surface. Thus | they can slip up to an vading canoe |and quickly dispatch its occupants Sleeping on the beach, my Indians as- sured me, with their ears to the | ground, they would be awakened by the faintest crunching footsteps of an | approaching enemy | "So here I was that night on the | bank of an unmapped river, cut off ¢ hundreds of miles from the nearest | white man. Somewhere up the stream | were' the diamond gravels and the | legendary gold mine I had come m) find. Spanish explorers, two centuries | ago, had -discovered it first, and had | enslaved the natives to work it. The natives ultimately rose and mas- | sacred their white masters; and they | have harbored by tradition from that day to this an undying hatred of all foreginers. This ever-watchful venge- fulness has given the river its name; many an unnamed wanderer has ven- | tured up it, but none has returned to tell the tale of what he saw. Indeed, just prior to my expedition, two other diamond seekers, making their way up the Araguaya, had been lured to the left bank of that river— the Chervantes' side—by the sight of wild honey in a tree. Had they landed | on the other shore—the Island of | Bananal—they might today be safely washing diamonds at Casanunga But, for their foolhardy appetites, | they were rewarded with a shower of poisoned arrows fired by unseen marksmen. And their guns and sup- plies passed into the proud possession of some triumphant tribesman. The Chervantes, you will see, are not cordial to strangers. At that, these victims suffered a pleasanter end than do those taken prisoner by the Chervantes. Captives are first turned over to women to torture, and then, led by the chief to a fire, are knocked into it by a war club's blow from behind. Their heads are promptly removed, however, be- fore becoming too badly scorched, and are preserved as souvenirs. o HESE are the ingratiating habits of the natives whose unwanted visitor I was. All this on our friendly old globe in the year 1924! If you seek | real adventure in an utterly unex- plored wilderness of amazing extent where savagery still openly fights the advance guards of civilization, stick to vour own side of the globe and go | south to the mysterious interior of Brazil. I at least had been blessed with ad- | venture even before I reached the camp on the River of Death where I was meditating thus. In July of last vear, coming up from the south \ il | because he had so | with a six-shooter, THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON : [\ ‘I/[flz /‘ » N N W ff _n \i§ D. €., SEPTEMBER 6, 1925—PART 2. ooy TR “WITH A RENDING CRASH IT HURLED OUR CLUMSY CRAFT ON ITS SIDE, AND OUT WE ALL WENT, BAG AND BAGGAGE, INTO THE WATERY TUMULT.” through rebellion-torn Sao Paulo, T had been held for a week by the insurrec- | tos in Casa Branca, while street fight ing went on outside my window. | Then I had made my way $00 miles | over primitive trails by motor and | mule to the famous Brazilian diamond | mines. Here a nondescript horde of frontier gamblers were enacting all | over again the drama of our own | Fortyniners. These Brazilian pros- | pectors, it is true, wear nothing but a | pair of ragged trousers, and walk to their diggings perhaps a thousand | miles, from home, unshod, but with | feet 0 calloused as not to feel the | sharpest thorns. | All day long I could see them wash- | ing the gravel of the river, which has | worn its way down a thousand feet to the diamond-bearing strata. And at night they gamble away their gems over the roulette wheel in the dance hall. The gunplay of our own wild West are part of their daily live I w nessed the demise and attended th funeral of the victim of one im- promptu duel; and later in another community met his conqueror who. shown his prowess | had been made | night watchman of the town! Accumulating my share of the dia- monds, which later brought me fal profit in New York, I left the diamond | fields for the headwaters of the Ara-| guaya, 400 miles more of wilderness . Rivers I crossed by desper ate swimming at their swiftest and most dangerous rapids, for fear of | alligators lurking in the more placid strotches. And amid all the real perils | of the trip, I had only two mishaps— onee when a monkey dropped & cocoa- nut on my head and once when the ants attacked me! These Brazilian ants, often an inch long, build astounding houses six feet high, looking like dead trees scattered about the plain. The ants are poison- ous, as I learned to my cost. Thrown from my mount one day, and knocked unconscious, 1 was dragged by the tirup a hundred yards and hurled against the side of an ant hill. There I came to my senses quickly enough, for the ants poured out in my- riads and started to eat me alive. 1 crawled, half-crazy from their bites, to a settler’s hut, where I spent a week | recuperating from the poison Finally reaching Registo, at the Ara- guaya's headwaters, 1 had come by canoe down to the island of Bananal, the longest river island in the world, stretching its trackless, virgin jungle EDITOR’S NOTE.—Perils equal to those experienced by early Spanish and Portuguese explorers and adventurers have fallen to the lot and have nearly ended the career of Francis Gow-Smith. But different mo- tives actuated their journey into the same country, the hinterland of Brazil; the former sought conquest and monetary gain, Capt. Gow-Smith’s explorations were in the interest of sclence. Born in Coldwater, Mich., the author received his education in his native town and at Purdue University. As will be told in a succeeding article of this series of four, his foot ball training at the Indiana institu- tion saved him from a serious predicament. After service on the Mexican border in 1916 and later in the World ‘War, he went, in the Spring of 1919, to Brazil, to explore the interior of that little-known country. During a four-year sojourn and a second trip, from which he recently returned, his life was endangered many times by wild animals and by the untutored and childlike but savage Indians of the jungle. Capt. Gow-Smith’s collections of the war trophies and arts of these Indians, as well as his knowledge of their customs and language, have been pronounced by authorities to be the most complete of their kind in the United States. The collections have recently been on display at the Museum of the American Indian, Huye Foundation, and at the Explorers’ Club, New York City. Again he has heard the call of the wild and is now on his way to make further explorations in the jungle. for 400 miles, down the center of the Araguaya. Here with tobacco and brown sugar 1 bribed the primitive Caraja Indians to daytime friendliness. But I never felt sure that they might not reconsider matters in the councils | of the night—so I violated all warn- ings, and slept alone in snakes or no snakes. &6 % % SOON, with a hastily scared-up crew of timid Carajas, I turned from Bananal Island up the Rio das Mortes, in search of its gems and its gold mine. or five days all told—two more after leaving the camp I have de- scribed above—we worked our way up this river, with a sense of impending treachery ever growing heavier. Yet the scene was an endless paradise of peace and flaming beauty. The banks were walled with forests and draped with the gorgeous colors of flowering vines. Over the silver sheet of water flashed in a kaleidoscope of amazing color the wings of parrots and strange butterflies. Solemnly on the rocks along the shore stood countless long-billed ibis, flaunting their plumage in pastel shades of red, green, purple and blue. Other fishermen, the graceful jaguars, daintily draped on branches over e stream where shoals of fish, feed- ing on floating petals, were so thick that a_ swift paw could scoop up a mouthful at will. All was enchanting peace. Yet I could almost feel the unseen eyes that my canoe, were watching our every move from among the trees. And a 'column of signal smoke, rising now and again above the forest roof, revealed that our progress was being reported to | malignant natives higher up. So came | the morning of the sixth day, and the | thrilling climax of my venture. | "I wish I might describe a flery hand- to-hand fray, with war clubs whirl- ing, spears flying and guns barking desith. But things don't happen that way in Matto Grosso. The sly treach- pitable saveges. Deceived by the languid peace, T cut in closer to their jeglously guard- ed banks while rounding a bend. And then it happened. A plop in the river. A vicious swishing through the air noe. Instantly a babble of hysterical cries from my natives. Before I knew what had happened, the dugout was swung around by panic-stricken sweeps of the paddles, and we were toward the center, while a hail of feathered arrows cut the water about us. My army .45 was instantly in my hand, and I rose foolishly to scan the banks. But I could see hardly a sign Daring American, Seeking a Fabled Gold Mine, Ventures Into a Sinister Land Where Other || White Men Have Lost Their Lives—Capsized in a Whirlpool—In the Coils of a Giant Sucuru. || Watched by Unseen Eyes—The Savage Indians and a Hail of Poisoned Shafts. | |1 what certain fa: of our assailants. A heavenly quiet | pervaded the flower-embroidered shores, with only a fleeting glimpse of naked figures ~gliding among the follage. Even as I looked a second barrage of arrows hurtled toward us from treetop and reeds, and one spent arrow rattled against our craft. 1 admit that I shuddered, for the slightest scratch from these poisoned weapons means quick but agenizing death. But I felt that to fire my re- volver would have been at least futile and at most to commit sheer murder. The panic jts sound might create would do no more than postpone an other ambush. By this time we were well out in | the middle of the river. I managed to of my natives plunged quickl indic { which T could only dis coming J impose a halt and call a confab. my orders were vain. A stray arrow floated down upon the current. One in and it gingerly to the canoe. He ted fearfully its poisoned yp, as i this were argument enougl, And all the pleadings of my Byaited vocabulary W dro out in chorus of negation. The Carajas had had enough. They knew better than as in store ahead. . incorrigible mutiny o ubmit Thus it wa we turned back down the River of Death. And my fear-stricken canoeists made in two days of desperate paddling the whole that had_taken five days up. So left the blood thirsty Chervantes still unrepentant and the ancient gold mine and the re mond beds of this sinister still unfound. But then and there I made up my mind that I would return, to spend vears, if necessary, exploring the ut termost react \d the certain riches of the River of Death where lia the bones of uncounted treasure-see (Copyright. 1925.) But brought Here was ran that I Farewell (Continued from Third Page.) 1 | | two horses and accompanied by a man servant whom Yongden had en gaged at Lhasa. Officlal inquiries about travelers going from Lhasa toward the borders are not ver strict and I could make myself a little more comfortable. I had also purchased a quantity of books at Lhasa and the tour I was undertak- ing in the south of the country was especially intended to hunt for old manuscripts to add to the rather fine Fibetan library I had collected dur- | ing my previous journeys and which was safely kept in China; so horses were needed to carry the luggage. But I continued to walk, finding it now that I had no more a load to| a most enjoyable sport | 1 passed next the gate of Norbul-| ing, smiling at the idea that the| | ruler of Tibet, who lived there, did not imagine that I had been so near him for a long time. He knew me personally, we had met more than once In the Himalayas; he was large- | Iy responsible for the present jour- ney and the previous ones, having| pressed me to undertake a thorough | study of the Tibetan language and| literature. I had followed his advice and the growing interest for Tibet I| had derived from my study had led | me to years of peregrinations andf finally to the Dalai Lama’s own capi- tal. 1 Had I given my name and had he| been free he might have liked to see | me again, but his present Western | suzerain does not allow him as much | treedom as did China. Whatever| might be his own inclination, he is| I no more at liberty to welcome a for- | eigner who is not sent to him than to forbid his door to those who are| | sent to him. So, I went my way. | "We crossea the Kyl River and es- | | cended a small pass.” There I looked | back a last time toward Lhasa. From | !»eemvd in the air like a mirage. I| | remained for a while gasing at the | graceful vision, remembering the | vears of tofl and trouble that my stay | at Lhasa had cost me. I had had my | | reward. In a hearty molam I wished | | welfare to all beings visible or in-| r\'islble who lived around the forbidden | city that had been hospitzble to me, | |and then, facing the south, I climbed | Lhasa had forever disap- | | down. heading back down stream and out|peared from before my eyes and taken | from Gyantze to | place in the world of my | brances. | 1 went to Samye monastery | through the white sands that gradu- ally transform into a desert the | neighboring country, once green and remem- | to Lhasa prosperous, ward Lk and, site of Tibet; I have no piace left to tell about it I wish only to mention that the large inclosure of the monastery tains one of the most dreaded shrines in Tibet. It is called U Khang (house of the vital brea It is said that the a 8 ing on the earth t place. In an inner sealed with the seal of the Le are placed a chopping board and a chopper knife of a rit > shape. With these imple. ments the devils cut th each night invisible corpses and—so gay Tibetans—one can hear from out the noise of the chopping and t cries and laughter. The oracle Samye alone is allowed to enter once a year in the shrine to deposit a new chopping board and knife. One see then—so again say the people— that the old ones which are taken out of the room are worn out by the use that had been made of them. * % ok ND now the time had come whan I had to decide about the way I would follow to leave Tibet. I looked toward China, from where I had come I felt awfully tempted to turn east and to reach Yunnan by a new road I could, had 1 chosen it, have left independent Tibet without anybody ever suspecting n tremendous journey and m y something made m hat had done must be knowr obeyed and took the road to Gvantze, the southern Tibe town which has become a British outpost I arrived there at dusk and went galow. The first gentleman who saw me and heard a Tibetan woman addressing him in English was dumfounded. When he had recovered he explained to me that the bungalow’s rooms were occupied, is carried to tr room Dalai ery of the poisoned arrow settles mat- | that distance the Potala only could |and directed me to the fort, where ters more to the liking of these inhos- | be seen; a tiny castle suspended it |live the officials and a small garrison of Indian troops. My arrival there produced the same effect. When I said that I came from China, that for eight months I had wandered across unknown parts of Tibet, had spent two months at Lhasa and enjoyed in and two more plops, close to our ca-|spiritual enlightenment and material | the forbidden city all the New Year festivities, no one could find a word to answer. = T had still before me the Jong. dreadfully cold road across tablelands swept by blizzards and_high passes the Tibeto-Indian border, but the adventure was ended and alone in my room I shouted for myself: “Lha won!”) gyvalo!®” (“The gods have (Copyright, 1925.) Pathos and Other Striking Features In the Latest News From Great Neck BY RING LARDNER. O the editor: Many weeks has lar since the ~writer give vou _ news of this neighbor- hood and some of it may sound kind of stale on that acct. Like for example a item in regards to the Harry Payne Whitneys taking the Cornelius Vanderbilt Whitneys and the Oliver Iselins to Newport on their yacht to tend the wedding of Muriel Vanderbilt vs. Mr. Church. The Ring Worm Lardners spent the day at home ‘en famille. The last named recently had the pleasure of receiving a call from the Quinn Martins, he being a motion pic- ture critic and one of nature’s noble- men. They brought along a German police puppy_age 3 months and a grandson of Rin Tin Tin. The pup was give to Quinn by Jackie Coogan and has been christened Jackie after the donor (the party that give it to him). Speaking about Jackie Coogan they has been a lot of talk about he having outlived his usefulness as a scream actor on acct. of getting so old but Quinn says he (Quinn) under- stands that he (Jackie Coogan) is go- ing to have his face lifted. Not never having had a police dog before Quinn was at a lost at first in regards to what to feed him, but he (Jackie the dog) soon manifested a preference for Mrs. Martin’s shoes, or Katherine as I call her. Long’s Island in gen. and Great Neck in a special was all a grog sev- eral nights ago when the radio pro- grams announced that the under- signed would sign bass to some of Sig Spaaeth’s barber shop ballads in a quartet at station WGBS. This event was scheduled for 8 p.m. and you can imagine the situation in many homes when the fateful hour was struck and immediately they was such a crashing and booming in the air that women shreeked and fainted on all sides and some of them had to be taken to the hospital, others to the morgue. It was not until the next day that the truth come out, namely that it was not me but a violent electric storm and that all programs for the evening had to be called off. “Thank God for the storm” was the way Miss Blyth Daly, an Elm Point blonde, put it. Residents of a certain section of our main street has been clamoring for the removal of the allnight lunch wagon on acct. of 50 many stews of the kind that ain’t edible frequenting same at all hours of the night and rajsing what my little kiddies would call the deuce. Mr. Schutzman the prop. of the wagon says is it his fault if drunks eats once in a wile and be- sides he don’t serve no liquid refresh- ments himself only coffee, milk and gravy and if some of his clients acts corned it is because of stuff they had before they got on the wagon. The neighbors complains that one of the principal pastimes of Mr. Schutzman'’s customers is bombarding each other with dishes to which Mr. Schutzman replies that the said customers’ fami- lies owes him a vote of thanks be- cause if it wasn't his Qishes that was being broke it would be theirs and if he didn’t furnish 4 playground for the boys to throw -dishes at each other they would be home throwing them at the wife and: kiddies. . The other Sunday a mother and father and their 9 kiddies s their car in front of our estate Mange) and decided to clamming 88| it was low tide. went well “SHE HAD NO SOONER TOUCHED FT. TO MUD WHEN SHE BEGIN ! TO SINK LIKE SHE WAS TORPEDOED.” in extricating herself from the car, Jjoined the others in the clam pasture, The mother I might state was built along the lines of a former ex-Presi- dent of the U. 8. and now chief justice “BUT HE SOON MANIFESTED A - PREFERENCE FOR MRS. MAR- TIN'S SHOES® 3 until the mother, who had been llowl of the supreme court in 4 letters and she hadn’t no sooner touched ft. to mud when she begin to sink like she was torpedoed and it took the car and 2 other high power cars and $ tow roped to hall her out. She was ear deep before the rescuers got to her and the clams has been working like mad ever since to replace the divot. Now friends the paragraph I am now writing is supposed to ring tears from the reader a specially those amongst you who is the male parents of male offspring. It ain't no secret by this time that T am the father of 4 boys and I have made it a rule that as soon as each of them got to be 7 yrs. old I would cease from Kkissing him good-night, as boys of such ad- vanced age don't relish being kissed by parents of their own sex. Well 3 of them has been over the age limit for some time and I only had one left on who to vent my osculatory affec tion namely David who was 6 yrs. old in May. Lately I noticed that he did not return My caress with any warmth and one night he held out his hand to shake lfke the other boys and then run upstairs and told his brothers gloatingly that he had_es- caped daddy's good-nlght kiss. Nat- urally this remark was repeated to me and naturally it meant the end as far'as I am concerned being a man of great pride and I suppose in time the wound will heal but mean wile hardly & evening passes when I don't kind of wish down in my heart that one of them had been a daughter. Mr. MacDonald Smith our profes sional at the Lakeville golf club has been criticised for saying that it was the crowd’s antics that kept him from winning the British open. Mac might learn me a whole lot about golf and on the other hand I might learn him something about crowds, at lease they never bothered me in a golf match. The Grantland Rices of Fifth Ave N. Y. city, was the guest of the Lard ners in Great Neck for 6 daye during August. Anyway they said that's all it was. A Romantic History. INJECESSITY forced the Hudson Bay Co. a trading corporation engaged in collecting furs, to become a government that ruled from the Great Lakes to the Arctic Circle. How absolute this power might be, and in some cases was, is illustrated by the strange history of Donald Smith afterward Lord Strathcona, whose name s honored in every part of the Dominion of Canada. The history, which contains all the elements of a romance or a melodrama, is a matter of record in the company. Almost 70 years ago a young Scotchman came from his native land to take a place in the Hudson Bay Co. He served it with scrupulous fidelity, and Had begun to feel at home in the place where he was sta tioned. One day an Indian runner came to him with an order to leave his post in one hour and betake himself to Labrador. The order did npt permit him to walt to pack his clothing. which, he was informed, would be sent after him: Although the order exiled him to an American Siberia, and was unaccom panied by any word of explanation, he obeyed it without a word of Te monstrance. Within the hour he Wns on his avay to the distant and in- hospitable post. He was kept there 23 'years. On the death of the gov- ernor of the company, who had ‘Sent. him into exile, he was recalled. As during this long, trying time he had been a wise, faithful servant ‘of the company, he was now promoted from position to position, until finally he became its governor. The exile was a harsh measure and the reason of it a mystery, but an old settler put it in another light. The company governed by military discipline, and ordered those subordinates to perilous service whom it could rely on to en- dure privation and cope with danger in the spirit of a gallant soldier. Luring the Moth. NE of the newest uses for elec tricity on the farm comes from New Jersey, wherp a peach-grower recently discovered that a battery of electrio lights, hung low over pans fill ed with Kerosene, was an effectivd way to rid his orchards of the Ori ental-moth pest. The lights, he says, lure the moths from the foliage. The moths fly for the lights and soon fall into the deadly kervsene pogs. % a