The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, June 21, 1896, Page 25

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, JUNE 21, 1896. (5] < TWO WONDERFUL CASES . OF HUMAN HIBERNATION BY YOGIS. ' One of the most weird of the magic | feats performed by the wandering fakirs | or yogis of India is that of human hiber- | ton taken out of his ears. His mouth was ;\mmn‘ in which they apparently die, are | ed resurrected and in a few hours become as | much alive as ever. | e periormers belong to a class of re- | ligious mendiecants, who are taught that | 10 gain the right to secure further spiritual | illumination they must serve a proba- | tionary period as jugglers, during which time they must live on what alms are vol- \u':mrily given to them. However much Westerners may doubt the practical wis- dom of such a training, it is a well-known | fact to thousands of travelers that the | fakirs do possess great magical power, and | ghee applied to the latter. bundreds of feats are attributed to them. It is not often that one of them will con- sent to be buried, and the rarity of the oc- | currence has caused most travelers as well as many Hindoos to doubt the fact. Nev- ertheless there are a few we!l authenti- cated cases on record. In a small book on the yoga philosophy, written by Dr. W. C. Paul, G sistant s eon in the British army in ral accounts are given of this book was ritish Government soon after its publica- tion on the ground that its contents were judicial to the interests of medicine ience,” but a few copies escaped e watchful eye of the officials, and ne of these is taken the accounts re- ferred to. Paul has an interesting recora him After the publication of his book he came so deeply interested in the fakirs that he deserted his post in order to join them. He was arrested on the charge of Insanity, and was taken to England and confined in an asylum and kept under close guard. Shortly after his incarcera- tion he mysteriously disappeared, and was never seen afterward by the authorities, but some of the Hindoos report that they have since met him in the Himalayas, where he is now pursning his yoga studies. McGregor, an eye-witness to the mysteri- proceeding, which occurred at the surt of Runjeet Singh in Lahore in 1837. To quote the doctor's words: “*A fakir who arrived at Lahore engaged to bury himseli ength of time, shut up in a box, and without either food or drink. Run- jeet naturally disbelieved the man’s asser- tions, and was determined to put them to the test. or this purpose the fakir was shut up in a wooden box, w in a small apartment below th the ground; there was a folding-door to h was secured by a lock and rding this apartment there den-house, the door of which was likewise locked; and outside the whole a high wall, having its doorway built up with bricks and mud. In order to prevent any one from approaching the place a line of sentries was piaced, and relieved at reg- tervals. ctest watch was kept up for the spi of forty days and ty nights, at the expiration of which od the Maharajah, attended by his ison, several Sirdars, Captain Sir Wade and myself, proceeded to dis- and mud were removed ym the outer doorway; the door of the den-house was next unlocked and the wooden box con- r. The latter was found a white sheet, moving which the figure of a man in a ttinz posture presented itself. His arms and hands were pre legs and thighs crossed. “The first step in his resuscitation con- sted in pouring over his head a quantity of warm water; after this a hot wheaten cake was placed on the crown of his head : a plug of wax was removed from one of his nostrils, upon which the man breathed of d to his sides and for several weeks and are then | been pressed closely to the roof of the suppressed by the | on re-, say that waste of the body is in the same strongly through it; then the wax was re- moved from his other nostril and the cot- now opened, and the tongue, which had mouth, brought forward and both it and the lips anointed with ghee (s kind of butter). During this parf of the pro- | ceedings I could not feel the pulsation of the wrist, though the temperature of the body had risen much above the natural | standard of health. When the box was | opened there was a heat about the region | of the brain, but there was no pulsation in | the heart, temple or arms. The legs and | arms were extended and the eyelids raised; | the former were well rubbed and a little | The eyelids | presented a dimmed, suffused appearance, | like those of a corpse. “The man now evinced signs of return- | ing animation; the pulse became percepti- | ble at the wrist, whilst the unnatural tem- | perature of the body rapidly diminished. | He made several ineffectual efforts to | speak, and at length uttered a few words | ina tone so low and feeble as to be almost | inaudible, saying to the Maharajah: ‘Do you believe me now?’ When the fakir | was able to converse freely the completion | of the feat was announced by the d charge of guns and other demonstrations of joy. A richchain of gold was placed round his neck by Runjeet, and earrings, | baubles and shawls were presented to | | him.” | In the following year the fakir wassum- moned to Lahore to repeat the trial for a shorter period, but because Captain Os-| borne and others expressed disbelief he re- fused to give the exhibition. Another hibernation is described by Lieutenant A. H. Boileau, which occurred | at Jaisulmer. He relates that the man, a | fakir about 30 years old, was buried for | thirty days and then dug out in the pres- | ence of Esur Lal, one of the ministers of | the- Muhasawal of Jaisuimer. He was| buried in a stone building about eight by twelve; in the tloor was dug a hole three feet long, two and a balf feet wide and | perhaps a yard in depth, in which he was | placed in & sitting posture, sewed up in a | shroud, with his feet turned inward to- | ward his stomach and his hands also | pointing toward the chest. Two bheavy slebs of stone six feet long, several irches | thick and broad enough to cover the | mouth of the grave, so that he could not escape, were then placed over him and a littie earth was plastered over the whole so as to make the surface of the grave smooth and compact. The door of the house was built up and people were placed | on guard to see that no tricks were played. At the expiration of a month the wall- ing of the door was broken and the man | dug out oi the grave. He was perlectly } senseless; his eyes were closed, his bands | cramped and powerless, his stomach | shrunken in, and his teeth jammed to- | gether so tightly that friends had to force | open his mouth with an iron rod in order | to pour a little water down his throat. | Gradually he recovered his senses and the use of his lmbs. Besides this hibernation at Jaisulmer Dr. Paul refers to two other cases, one in the Punjaub and the otherin Calcutta, the latter of which he witnessed, and states in India in the last twenty-five years. | The yogis claim that this feat'is the re- | | suit of long and arduous training. They | ratio as the exhalation of carbonic acid in | the breath, and that they have methods of | limiting such exhalation, and finally are e to cease breathing altogetber, and | that then all the functions of the body | stop; even the hair may cease to grow. It/ aid that during the operation the yogi | isin a trance, and in exceptional cases | this may last for many months, Rax Sixem, | Thomas A. Edison says that within ten yeurs aerial navigation will be an ac- complished fact, and that there is nothing to prevent us traveling through the air iust above the treetops at a speed ranging from 75 to 100 miles an hour. He has accomplished so many wonder- ful things which could not be believed un- til they were seen in practical operation that the public is willing to believe that be can do anything, no matter how start- ling the proposition. “It is hard to say what is the right prin- i The machine, whatever form it takes, will have to rise by its own power \d not by balloon power iy any form. Any method employing gas for flotation is not practical. The whole problem will be solved when we can get one-horsepower for every five pounds in weight of the fly- ing machine. “You know,”’ he smile lighting up his features, “that I made a lot of experiments along that line once. Yes, I put a machine on a pair of finely adjusted scales. There were fans and a motor and all that sort of thing at- tached. ‘I weighed the whole outfit and then applied the motive power to the fans and other contrivances, and by watching the sceles ascertained just how much those fans would lift with a certain num- ber of revolutions. That was fun. “So many of the experimenters and the- orists have got such good results that it is hard to determine which is the right line. Some one is going to find that, of course, and have a walkover. The thing is to strike the right principle.” i “Do you really believe it possible to in- vent a flying machine that can be put in practical, every-day use; that will sup- plant present transportation facilities and vield a revenue that would make itan as- sured success from a commercial point of view?"” was the next question. “1 certainly do,” answerea Mr. Edison without hesitation. *“I believe I could do it myself if I bad the time tospare. I must try that again sometime. “Have you yet seen anything which you think emvodies the right prineiple?”’ “1 have seen only what has been pub»{ lished on the subject from time to time,” said Mr. Edison, “and in those publica- tions I have not discovered what I consider the right principle. There is one man, however, who is devoting considerable | time and attention to that subject in whom 1 have the greatest confidence. He is Pro- fessor Langley of the Smithsonian Insti- tution in Washington. My confidence in him arises from the fact that he is a man | high. There’s no use going much above of rare scientific attainments and a fine ex- perimenter. I have not seen the results of his experiments published.” “Do you think the motive power for the flying-machine will be electricity?” Mr. Edison was asked. “N-0,” answerea the wizard, slowly. “I | rather think that gun-cotton or some WIZARD EDISON SAYS WE WILL ALL SOON BE FLYING. said, a reminiscent | | that is a minor consideration. i 1 chemical that makes its own gas will fur- | nish the motive power. The gun-cotton employed will not be of the high explosive | auality, of course, but rather in the natuze | | of celluloid gun-cotton. I took some i stock-ticker paper here one day and made | | it into a lower form of gun-cotton and fed | it between copper rollers. It didn’t ex- | plode, but ignited and flashed and the gas | did the work. I got 3000 strokes a minute | with them. There was a good deal of heat generatea that could not be utilized, | but that could be overcome without duffi- | | culty.” | *“What speed could the aerial machine | attain with perfect safety ?” | “If the flotation is all right a speed of | | from 75 to 100 miles an hour will be noth- | ing. The friction of the air will be a very | small matter. The speed will depend | altogether on the amount of air friction and power employed. The flotation must | | be secured without the ase of gas. It must | be complete mechanical flotation, other- | wise the flying-machine will be at tke | mercy of the wind. | | “It is the displacement of water which | | makes so much power necessary in ves- | sels. If we can get the same grip on the | air that we can on water, friction and the | like will be but trifles, because we will not be doing any work against gravity. You know if we push anything alonga hori- zontal line where there is no gravity only a small amount of power is required. It | is on the grades that great power is re- | | quired in locomotives to haul trains. On | { the levels only a small amount of power is necessary. . | “Horizontal propulsion will be the | method in the successful aerial machine. | The flotation is the problem to be solved. | It a machiae is invented that wil lift itself and two cr three hundred pounds besides | to a distance of fifty feet in the air and | stay there, then the whole matter is solved | and becomes simply a question of details | | for draughtsmen.’’ | “‘And how soon do you think this will be accomplished ?” “Within ten years,’’ said Mr. Edison, promptly. “And will any of the theories already | advanced supply the principle?” “No, for they are neither commercial nor reliable. 1 have but little faith in the aeroplane. All I want is a rope on a ma- chine with the other end of the rope fas- | tened to a stump, and the machine to pull strong on the rope for two or three hours, Then I'll know the whole question is solved. I don’t want the machine very the tops of trees, and the aerial machine should land somewhere near the ground. As for the form the machine will take, ! “There are three, possibly four, theories | in all which are of value. Oune of them is the right one. Which one of them we must find out. And we'll get it soon,” 1 N NN vas Smao ony ) < Prom o fanting in E STRONG THE COMRADES. A TRIO OF MISS STRONG'S FAMOUS DOG PAINTINGS. The first, entitled “The Com. | The Wise men of the benches were watch- Three of the famous dog pictures of Miss Elizabeth rades,” was bought by Theodore Vail and has since painter. hounds, a very rare and celebrated breed. who reside near Bordeaux, in France, and dogs painted by Miss Strong were first prize dogs at the kennel shows in London and Par French artist, Delchae. In “Waiting for the Mistress,”” Miss Strong ha that she raised from a puppy. Both of these dogs, as has also the painting, trong of this City are Lere presented. 2d out of the possi a terror to all the country around, always dashing into flocks of sheep and scatter miles behind, had to be sold to escape the shotguns of the shepherd. Both of these dogs were raised in France, where Miss Strong resided when she painted them. n, Strong went to Monterey, where she has set up a studio, and will probably remain for the summer. ON THE TRAIL. assed through so many hands that its present owner is to-day unknown to the The second picture, “On the Trail,” is owned by the Roxbury Hunting Club of Boston. on of Miss Strong. | She is an enthusiastic lover | | of all dumb animals, besides being one of the most famous animal vainters, and has still many kennel pets. Recently Miss | The animals are St. Ange The subjects of this painting were dogs owned by the family of the Vicomtes du Hamel, aid to possess the only fine specimens of St. Ange hounds in Europe. The ptofessor had been speaking of the wide field of literary research, and as the { class rose he said: “You need never sigh for new worlds to conquer.” One of the class stood for a few minutes at the window looking with unseeing eyes across the university campus over the bay to the Golden Gate. As she turned away | with a smile, half sad, she said to herseif, “f hadn’t thought of it for twenty years.” sie e e One hot day in the Northern California of twenty vears ago t!e sun shot his rays straight down the principal street of a small town. The whole three blocks of Miner street were deserted, except for half a dozen dogs stretched in the narrow shade of a wall. Glancing up one side and down other one of the squat buildings had a sidewalk’s edge—a sure sign of a saloon. Seven on one side and six on the other. ‘When the sun passed over the hill these benches would be occupied by men who, from long habit, considered certain seats their own. The affairs of the universe { were settled and unsettled on those benches: there were discussed all the po- litical problems of the day, interspersed with bits of local gossip and comments on the ankles of passing women. What a trial it was for a shy girl to pass those grandstands, knowing, feeling the comments, criticisms and sometimes jokes that followed her down the line. Just now these warders of the public were inside watching a game of poker and waiting patiently for some lucky player to go to the bar and say, “Come on, fellers.” Down the street came a child—one of those fat, white little girls of five years, whose looks as a woman are not even to be | sprculated upon. Take two who are | almost alike, and one in fitteen years may be a slender, brown-haired woman, with a | complexion of milk and roses; the other | may be a gross, dough-faced, straw-haired | fright. And you can’t tell which will be Short, round, solid, at every step the copper-toed shoes clicked, the short “pig- tail” of tow hair vibrated, and the stream- ers of the sailor hat stooa straight out. This same hat was little protection to the flushed, perspiring face, for it was pushed i back so far that the elastic was buried | from mortal view in the fat cheek and | chin. There was purpose in the sturdy walk, and 1n the big gray eyes that traveled up { and down the street in search of somebody or something. In front of the first saloon she stopped, and, walking under the green hali-blind that hides so many sins its name should be Charity, she sent that same inquiring | glance around theroom. No one seemed surprised, there was none of the sudden urally provoke, in fact no one saw her. ing in deep interest an exciting game. As she paused in front of the sixth saloon the shutter swung out and a blue- shirted, red-haired giant almost stepped Both of the | on her, his feet not being quite sure where , and had been painted by t'ie great s painted her own vet collie, together with a Russian hound The poor | that only these three cases had occurred | coilie choked to death while eating a bone that was too big to go down. The Russian hound, strong and swiit as a racehorse and 2 them over the fields, leaving the shepherd | the ground was, anyway. The child spoke for the first time. ‘*‘Daddy in there, Aleck?’ The voice matched the eyes— they were olaer than the rest of her. The giant looked with bleared, kindly eyes, nd answered with a trace of Scotch in his accent: “Naw, Little Tom, and I seed him go into Judge Steele’s office an hour ago. | Did you want him bad?’’ The big eyes was distinctly disappointed. If daddy was in the office he was certainly sober, but alas, he was out of her reach. Saloons and stores were open to her will, but courthouse and office were forbidden ground. “‘Set here on the bench with me and I'll tell you a story till yer dad comes out,” { the other ‘one would mnotice that every | rude, much-whittled bench in front at the | silence the vision of innocence would nat- | lighted, and at the same time Little Tom | | ONE WELL-LEARNED . LESSON IN ANCIENT HISTORY. offered the giant, as he settled himself ina corner where a post cast a shadow. At the word “story” Little Tom, whose feet had been set in the way of righteousness— homeward — hesifated and was lost. Seated on the bench, very close to the story-teller, her feet were straight out over the edge, her head was against Aleck’sarm. It made a picture there in the afternoon sunlight, and more than one passer smiled at the queer couple—the | very grave little lamb curled up against the big, unsteady lion. Alex Stuart kuew many books and he also knew Little Tom. It was no fairy tale he poured into her eager ear, it was the story of Alexanler the Great, told in plaiu, strong language. His drunken fancy made it seem real to him, and when he finished with these words, “Then he wept,” Little Tom wept because there were no more worlds to conquer. ‘‘Poor Alexander, he wept,” the giant was weep- | ing freely in maudlin sympathy, while | the little maid waited with composure for | his tears to cease that she might suggest another story. The other story never came. Instead came a stern voice—*‘Mary, get down this | minute and come with me. Where’s your | father?” Scrambling down in a hurry Little Tom went obediently with her father’s friend, only hanging back a little when he threw open Judge Steele’s office door. She stood | in awe of the Judge, who reminded her of | the picture of Abraham Lincoln in daddy’s | big book, and besides daddy had for- | bidden her coming into the office. Her captor was both angry and in a { hurry, and with the introduction, “IL | found her on a bench in front of the Last | Chance with Aleck Stuart, drunk as a | lord, erying all over her. Goodness knows | what he has been saying to her,”” he | slammed the door again and was gone. | There was silence in the ofiice as the two men looked at the little downcast | figure waiting for daddy to pronounce | sentence. Fat child and spare man were | curiously alike. Lawyer Tom’s eyes be- gan to twinkle when a tear rolled off the funny nose, and picking her up and set- | ting her on the edge of the high desk he | commanded, “Tell the Judge what Aleck | said to you.” Folding the chubby hands Little Tom | raised her eyes to the Judge’s face and | almost word for word she repeated the | tale of the one Alexander as it had been |told to her by the other Alexander. "Warming with her story she forgot her awe of the Judge and her body shook and the pigtail vibrated anew as she described | the wondrous feats until her hero had | conquered the world and then she gavea | sigh and stopped. “Well, and then?” | prompted the Judge, whose face was full | of interest. Little Tom was silent. She swung one | foot, from which the untied shoestring | dangled. At last she sighed again and looked up. *“I guess he was drunk,” she remarked. | | “Why do you think so, Little Tom?"” asked the Judge. “He cried,” went on the child, with dis- | gust in her voice. ‘‘He just sat down and | cried ’cause he didn’t have any more to fight with. Aleck Stuart cried too—he was drunk. Don’t you guess Alexander was drunk when he cried, daddy ?"’ “I guess you'd better run home and ask your mother what she thinks about it,”" | laughed her father. He set her down, | gave her that supposed panacea of child- hood—a dime—opened the door and | watched the sturdy figure up the street. Both men smiled as she trudged along, deep in the memory of Alexander, and trying to reconcile his tears with his great deeds. Just before she turned the corner she nodded to herself decidedly and they almost heard her say, ‘“He was drunk.” 0. E. H. Moweli, in Rudyard Kipling’s “Jungle Book,” is not entirely imaginary. It is not a particularly unusual thing for wolves | to steal babies in India, and after taking the infants home to raise them with their own whelps, says the New York World. That was the story of Mowgli. He grew up with wolves as foster parents, learned | all about the other animals and their hab- its, and became familiar with the bandar- log folks, the monkeys. The analysis of | the bandar-log characteristics in the “Jungle Book” suit many people asac- curately as does any character in fiction. Mowgli was an inquisitive chiid, and as he was always asking questions, and was for- tunate in securing and remembering the answers, he learned a vast deal about all the wild inhabitants of the jungle. There is one of these man-wolves now in the Secundra Crphanage, near Agra, In- dia. The facts have been alluded to by travelers before, but no authentic story of the case has been published previously. The secured information came from Dr. | C. 8. Valentine, the principal of the Agra Medical Missionary Training Institute, who vouched for its truthfulness. It was in the spring of 1867 that the wolf-man was first seen. A party of na- | tives were hunting game in the jungles of | Bulandshahr, in Northwestern India. | These jungles are extensive and unfre- quented and teem with wild beasts. Itis in such places that the scene of Kipling’s “Jungle Book' is laid, and in them the { wild animals are seldom molested and they are a law unto themselves. Native hunters prowl around the edges and rarely enter the dense jungles. ‘While looking for game the natives dis- covered a stray wolf. They followed her i to her den on top of a small hillock. Near | the den wasa large rock, and on top of i this was a curious, dark-looking object. As the hunters approached it rose and the | startled natives saw that it was a half- grown boy. The uncouth youngster ran away on all fours and entered the cave with the wolf which,had been pursued. The frightened hunters were so alarmed that they returned to the village of Bu- landshahr and reported what they had seen to the magistrate, who advised them to return and try to capture the child. A party was formed and the hunters led the | way to the hillock. A fire was buiit at the mouth of the cave, so that the smoke would enter the orifice. After waiting for some time the wolf ran out and was killed. Almost simultaneously the child dashed out, and after some difficalty was caught. The boy fought desperately. He bit and scratched, and before he was overpowered and securely bound several of the natives had been bitten and two or three of them had received ugly wounds. The wild thing Phad enormous strength and was as fierce as any wolf. Even after he was tied the little fellow snarled and snapped at any one that approached, and it was with much difficuity that he was finally carried aw ay NURSED BY A WOLF LIKE RUDYARD KIPLING'S MOWGLL The boy seemed to be about 7 or 8 years old, but had three times the strength of the usual boy of that age. His head was cov- ered with a mat of hair, which fell down over his face. His body was indescribably unclean. He moved on all fours and could not be induced to stand erect. There was quite a growth of hair on the body, which was covered with scars. The head was small and the brow low and receding. The eyes were grayish and constantly in motion. They constantly squinted, which gave the boy a mean look. The face was small, thin and wrinkled, and two cica- trices on the cheeks told of deep bites that had at some time been inflicted. Evidently the poor creature had been roughly used |and had been compelled to fight many times for food and Iife. Some days after the boy was captured the magistrate sent him to the Secundra Or- phanage. As he entered that institution on Saturday he was named Sanichar, and by that name he is still known. For a long time after he was placed in the or- phanage he refused to act like a human being, He persisted in eating his food from the ground, picking up vegetables with his lips and gnawing raw meat from the bones with his teeth. | When captured it was soon learned that Sanichar wasdeaf and dumb. This ren- dered the teaching of the boy more diffi- | cult. Asnoteacher was available who had | had experience with deaf-mutes, little was attempted 1n teaching him. He was left alone to grow as he pleased. Hegradually dropped some of his old habits and be- came partially civilized, but he remained { mute and morose. He has consented to wear clothes and will eat off a plate. But he refuses to use a knife or fork, preferring to convey the food from his plate with his fingers. He has learned to walk erect, but he occasionally drops on all fours, in which position he can move with remarkable speed. When standing erect he is five feet two inches high. When walking he lifts his feet high, like a stringhalted horse, or as though he were wading in wet grass. ‘When awake he is always moving, and his eyes have a restless appearance, as though he were expecting an attack from- ! an unseen enemy. When he walks all the muscles of his body jerk; and he swings his arms as though they materially as- sistea him. His head is constantly turn- ing from one side to the other. Sanichar is now about 36 years old, and the conditions of his early lile mustalways remain a mystery. He is docile enough now, but his eyes always have a hungry look, and he is suspicious of every one. Dr. Valentine has studied Sanichar a great deal, but is unable to make much of bim. What he knows, however, almost makes a person believe in the legend of Romulus and Remus, and the poor, half- savage creature Sanichar is living proof that Rudyard Kipling’s Mowgli has ex isted in fact as well as in fiction,