The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, November 7, 1897, Page 20

THE SAN FRANCISCO CTALL, NOVEMBER DAY, 1897 road in the civilized world dful a record as tnat long, hot, ay between Yuma and San Each year it adds to its iengthened tale ims, and despite its horrors there are men foolish enough to attempt the journey in mid- summer. Prospectors, tramps, even working- anxious to reach Arizona have essayed its , and 1t has been more through sheer luck durance that have en- m to ma p iu safety. ndeed a hideous way. It is lined by nitened bones of many abrave man. What sufferings bave been endured on that road the nnot imagine. V peculiar form of ity impels the man to the task armed only with a small canteen of water is incredible. The man who never experienced the heat of the desert during these days has no conception of it. Even where there are running streams, verdurous patches of alfalfa and tall trees the oppressive heat often compels men to abandon any kind of exertion. So what can the heat be along a sandy strip by courtesy called a road where there is neither water nor shade? This year, on a north porch, which the sun has never reached, the thermometer has already markea 114 degrees: what then can the heat ba where the sun pours his powers witkout the in- tervention of a feeble leaf to shield the wayfarer from his ail-burning rays? The tramps which infest these roads are of quite a different genusto that of which Josiah Flint writes so feelingly. The *“Wandering Willies” and **Prooshuns’’ which haunt tke cit- jes are of a very different stamp to the poor wret s who here meet death, for it may be accepted as an axiom “that he who attempts to walk from San Diego to Yuma in summer will never reach the river.” You may tell these men of man where men have died the most terrible of deaths and they will iaugh at you. But this is not true. Tne average tramp never laughs. He simply smiles at you the smile of supreme contempt. What can you know of danger, you who ride in railroad cars and Pullmans? Kave we not faced anger on the dusty track, before the wild and agacious buildog, over the deadly pieof the section man’s wife, 1n front of the brisk brake- man with a short hose, and the brutal conductor? Even we have faced the baleful glitter of the eves of that stalwart specimen of manhood, Mr. Roadmauster Burr of Yuma. What then do w care for tne dangers of the Yuma road ? Something akin to pity surges through the heart at the sight of these men. A desire—a keen one—to lift the veil of their impenetrability and see into the motives that -compel these Ishmaelites to undertake such hardships. There mav be a glamour about the existence of a tramp, where the journeyings back and forth are through es, in and out of big towns and s, but there can be none when 15 over the glariug sands of the C rado Desert. There is no ch has so drea wate fess W the w instances a peculiarly villainous specimen of mp camein 1o Sa His gar- e fow—a rimless hat, a pair of torn 1d a red shirt. His eyes bulged from their sockets and appeared to be resting on the cheeks by thin red ligaments; his lips were cut to From between his gleaming, wolfish fangs pro- traded a huge black and swollen tongue, so thick, so congested that utterancs was impos- si His swollen lips formed a single word, but there came forth no sound. The well and pump were pointed out to him. He approached it with wavering, feeble steps, and thon pumped out a lttle water which ank in small swallows. There in that pitiless sun, drinking but a few drops of water from out an old tin can, he looked a most unhappy speeimen of manhood. He was a e man, an American, a broad-shouldered, strong, well built fellow; but from out his face had loug fled ali signs of intellipence. He was a mere brute, a brute but littie removed from the beasts that were about him. In fact be was Jower in intelligence than the burro, for an animal will find its way to water; a man but water. It might have savored of work. Of what composition are these men? They are not like unto their fellows? What quarrel have they had with the world that they nold it in such surly disdsin? What ctiord of sympa- thy could be touched that would sound a re- sponsive echo? Kindness they are snspicious of, and of what are they not suspicious? Tney have notuing to lose, everything (o gain. But the mer= i lle inquiry, *Where are you going 2" shuts them out from all communication. They are men apart from all m'n. What dreaaful purging of a city’s wickedness spewed out these men on these desolate wilds? They bave no interest in the things of this earth—no absolute interest in anvbody. ' The rich are not the obj cts of their disdain, with the poor they have no sympathy, but they de- spise tinged with a fiendish natred the man who a fledgling not to trust himself alone on a aan- gerous trip. “If you bave never been on that road afore don't do it.’ But warning may be piled on warning, the new man always knows better. “Were you everlost?’ I asked Walter Hast- ings, an old-timer on the desert. “Wanst,” was the reply, “Where?' You have to drag out your in- formation by piecemeal if you want to learn a story of deprivation and insani y. “Down in Arizonay.'’ “Were you long withoat water?”’ “Two days and two nights.” You felt uncomfortable, I suppose?” $¥ep.” You were rescued 2" “Yep. “By whom?” e FLoan 18 MARKED oY Q TRE \ rarely does. He stopped and drank till into his face came more natural hues; the great swollen tongue subsided; the eyes wero relrawn into their ockets, and the lips became again red as brick dust—not like cherries. Then rising with an oath he started. “Where are you going?” we asked involun- tarily. tm a goin’ on,”’ was the surly response. Areyounotgoingto takesome water? There are lots of (mply bottles around. You had bet- ter take o aw!"” und he Teft. L ft as he came. There miles between the watering places; be knew it, and yet hedid not care. He was ab- converts himself into a slave and works for another’s benefit. Such the men who are now dragging their weary feet alonz that skeleton- embroid red road. Do these unburied bones appeal to them? Do they even imacgine that such a lot will befall them? That they too will furnish meat to the covote? Have they an im- agination? Iam ccmoelled to answer “'no.” But it is not alwavs the tramp that is lost. Often it is the newly fladgzed prospector. There have been few instances oi an o!d and tried prospector being lost. If Iast there has been a vary bad chain of unfortunate circumstances. The old prospector take no risks. He learns about the road and prepares him«eifaccord ingly. *“Mexicans. Darn their skins.” “Darn their skins!”’ “Yep.” “For rescuing you?”’ ¢ For what?” “Generally.” 1 laughed. And then suddenly ne unbosomed himself. “It was this way,"” hs bezan. “I was down in Arizona and my burros ot away from me. That is generally how the old prospector gets lost. The burre is such a cusse.l ornery crittur that he'll try and get away from you every time. They do it at nichi, and Lord 1t’s just awful to a beast. Track’em? Why, of ccurse. But who in hades can long track a burro in this sand? You track ’em and you get wild. Then you 'gin, little oy little, to feel the thirst. I. ain’t much at first, but yon feel as if your throat were about cracking, and then as if somebody Wwas a-build- ing a furnace in your inside, an. your skin gets hot and hotter, and then your eves begin to give way, and itisasi great white curtain came down and fell all over the landa; and then the curtain hits, as if being hauled up. And just when you can see clearly, the curtain seems to graduaily rise from out of the ground and gather itselt in great folds around and about you, and you feel that the folds are - etting nar- rower and narrower and that you are grad2ally being suffocated; and vou want to tear tonat white waving curtain and make a rent so that through the hole a breath of air may come and prevent you from perishing. “But the folds grow mors and more compact, the a.r grows denser and dencer, and you feel as if you must not be so enshrouded, and you tear the clothes off your back and rush ahead, and the white flsecy curiain gives way, oaly to wrap itself sti'l closer around you. Then you throw vourself down and claw the sandy earth with your hands and bury vour face in the hot, burn- ing earth; and your mind suddenly gives way— gives way as suddenly as the snap of the cat ut on the tizhtly stretched violin—and you shout and shou® and run in adirect line. It was when I was running straight for the river that I passed through a camp of Mex cans. I had not seen called to me [ went straight thro Then they followed me—roped me £1l nursing breught me back to reas Iife.”’ You have seen deaths from thirst “\\3" with a grewsome em. You can see lots and lots 0! bones men bave droppel in their tracks, but th not all been mining me Tramps f quently, but noboly misses them and Is e nobody cares. I will tell you an experie I had some years ago, which gives mea kiud of chill even now, lhmlp,h it is a warm dav. « It was on the Yuma road, near to Yum was going foward Yuma, and had my bt with me, when I saw in the distance a Wi figure moving aimlessly about in the sand a off the road. I hurried toward it and saw man entirely naked. - He was mumbling to hif- self. He was a large, powerful man, and I proached him quietly, for I knew if he was quite mad he was ipsane enough to be dafger- ous. I callea to him, but he neither saw nor neard me. I went up to him acd caught him by the arm. He turned cavagely on me and made a grab for the caneen. But I wa quick as he, and T beat him off. He rushed at L] me wickedly. There was a baleful glare in bis eves, his body was scratched by hi< nails til l the blood bad ccme, his face was clawed as if by some cat, and he looked an uzly man to en- counter. We closed agan, and we struegled long and hard. Fortunately one cinnot get bruised in the sind, and as he w with- out heavy shoes, I felt no fear. Finally his strenzth gave way and he lay on the ground, exbansted and panting, his eyves blinking at me half-savacely znd half-plead and then leaving my face tueir giances wou toward th: canteen. +I would not let him vas naked hold the canteen, but 1 gave him small sups until hecou d take a longer drsught, and about evening his senses returned to bim. But before he recovered his facultics he continued to repea “Where are the any Jittle gray dogs. Tu h ept a-following and a-following me,and they won’t leave, and kept on a-birking at me. I don’'t see them funny little gray dogs no more. Where are they 2" 1 shuddered, for ‘the little gray dogs’ were coyotes tracking him, waiting till he dropped and then to feast on him. “Wken his reason w told me he had been in the arm perfectly restored he and had about $1200. He was making his way to San Diezo, and thought that as he had bren used to m1 ing he could sa ey make the pl When pack became heavy be had buried 11, along with his (reasure, which he was positive he could d. I imagined he was suffzring from the heat and that the money was pirt of a delusion. Buta few days afterward we found his $1200 and his blunkets. *“Why on earth did vou not takethestrs e I asked. * ‘I wanted to save the fare,’ was the re ant bloo1 oozed from the cracks. There was were long olier blood o n, which had dried and baked 1 fresbly squeezed opium. solutely too la 1o carry even a quart bottle of Frequently Lave I heard an old prospecior warn wake up in the morning and not =ee the sight of them nor did I bear them, and though they Joux Hamx SOME EVENTS IN THE LIFE OF MASTER JOE. AN OTTER It wasin the camp of sgne lIssanti-|est except meat, no amonnt of 5ux at Sault Ste. Marie that [ first saw | coaxinz could induce him to try. He was | would reach .amer wos delayed several | especially fond of cake anl sweetmeats, n passing the locks, and so we had time to take few wigwams in and get nted with their owners. of these was a baby fast asleep in and, giv thongh he would n adish of icecream, would turn somersaults into and out of it, apparently wild with delight, be persuaded to taste it. net a hammock of bark and fastened upright | Joe was a beauty in every sense of the te Our presence | word. His body, lithe and supple as that b the little dreamer; and | of a serpentine da ; his l=gs snort and even when I tossed the straight hair from | strong, so loosel that he could the swarthy brow and brown paim dropped into the a bunch of heather-bells it | his fine, soit only smiled a little quiet smile and went lady’s seal-kin muff, always a delight to | on dreaming. In the center of the wig- | bold and hug; littie webbed feet wam a few coals were smoldering. Upon | creeping in upon unaware like a | could reason, a bed of Lirchen bark an old squaw lay | child’s feet, bent on mischief; his mild, | For instance: half asleep and becide her the queerest | wise eyes that to read you | roly- y of—something—I nad ever Its brown eyes seemed asking ac- quaintance and the squaw explained that it was a baby otter, weighing exactly three-quarters of a pound. A very littla silver looked a fortune in these days to an Indian, and so we carried off the otter. | After being bathed and be-ribboned 1t was | christened ‘*Joe,” and became one of us. Joe was so very tiny that at first he had to be fed on milk from a quill with a bit of cotton for a mouthpiece. He very soon learned the meaning of it all, how- ever, and would give littie imperative calls for food, following us everywhere with soft, beseeching eyes. Until' Joe was three months old he lived mainly on the bottle, just as many another baby bas to, but he soon learned po in the house. blinking sleepi himself under turn in any direction with ease and grace fur that made him among like a througi and through and to correctly es- timate the strength of your forbearance. | All these made Joe a welcome attraction More than ail true, loving heart made him dear to us, | almost as u babe might be. Joe’s closest friend animals about the hou-e was a cat named Tabby. Tabby wasfond of Joe and some- times would play with. him quite jolily. But she was oid, and as a rule, sit quietly in a care chair in the sunshine ¥, oblivious to that Joe was planning surprites in which she was interested. Often atsuch times 1 bave seen Joe creep noiselessly from bis special corner of the woom, wrizgle Tabby’s cnair jarring it in the least, and then covering this, his the lower loved to the fact without to like anything that a cat or doz would | 1.is nose—the most vulnerable part of his anatomy—with one paw, with the other up to the cane seat ana | send Tabby u foot straight into the air, | emitting the wildest screams. | He seemed rather to enjoy the pawing and the spit- ting that followed, and in a minute Tabby anua Joe wers the same good friends again. Joe was always playing ricks of one kind oranother on the poor cat, butshe speedily | forzave them and often went to sleep be- | fore the fire with her chin in the folds of i | bis funny little neck. Then he kept guard and showed his long white teeth warn- ingly if a servant ventured too neir. Joe could calculate and compute. He too, from cause to effect. Tuoere was a small iron pump in tie back kitchen from which he was often helped to a drink when thirsty, and the workings of which he waitched very closely during many days. He | seemed then to conclude he could manage the business for himseif, and thereafter scorned to accept a drop of water he had not obtained himseif. Ho would toss up the pump handle with his nose, rush to the spout and drink from the tiny little stream, wagging his broad tail excitealy and evidencing in a hundred ways the real deiight of a congueror. e LT SN S e R It is a constant amusement for wild otters to have a real toboggan near their homes aleng a stroam in the woods. A sloping bank is cleared of all obstructions and patted with paws and tails to a glassy smoothness. Then the whole colony of otters will dash intoand out of thestream 1 nelchate. and rush up the little hill, carrying on their bodies as much water as possible with which to wet the side. Then lying tlat on their bellies and putting their fore legs backward beneath them they shoot like a flish down into the water, chatter- ing and grunting for all the world like a parcel of schoolboys. Our Joe showel downhill slide that we tixed him an orig A twenty-foot smooth pla: laid slantingly against a fve-foot fence, frequently wetied, served him well even in summer, and in winter when coated with ice was tremendous. Hour after hour Joe would toil up that plank, carefu! to stick his nails in the edees only. Once at the top he would square himself around, draw his tail up between his hind legs and grasping it in his mouth and using his fore paws to keep him straight, woulid ‘‘shoot the chutes” in a royal fash- ion, resting oniy long enough to getin two or three exclamations of delight. Though otters are somatimes trained to fish for their masters, our Joe fished only for himself, but he water without asking permission. He would curl around one's feet, makinga plaintive little cry while lookinyz straieht into your face with nis great wistful eyes. Scarcely would the words be spoken— “Yes, Joe; you may go”—before he would disappear in iha water, seldom returning empty-handed, or rather empty-mouthed. His greatest joy was to catch alamprey eel. Lyingon his b:ck, he would hold it carelully in the midale and let it wriggle such a desire for a | never went into the | tabout his head, playing with it 2sa cat with a mouse. When the snow was deep he \\ould have | ranways or tunnels through the yard, into | one of whicn he would dart,with old Turk, | the mast:ff, after him, end while the dog watclied 1he hole where Joe disappeared, he would suddenly come out of another, give Turk’s hind leg a n1p and hide acain, ! Peopi- by the dozens would watch the play for hours. | From the time Joe was about a year old be faithfully discharzed a self-imposed task of bringing in the eggs. Sometimes he would gently raise a biddy up with his nose and draw the eggs from under her | with his paw, and the hens seemed not 10 mind et ail. the chicken-yard fence where Joe would alwavs push the eggs through, and tnen climb out himself at another place fully ten yards distant. He always placed the eggs on a certain corner of the kitchen | hearth and waited for some one tosay: “That’s a gool boy, Joe.” If the one brought in was not the last one, he would immediately run back to the nests, and in that he never made a mistake. One day ne accidentally broke an egg, tasted it, {and-——well, after that the henhouss was kept locked. Men and animals have their price. Joe's was raw eggs. Once the home was fitled with lamenta- tion, and for four dcys Joe was mourned aslo t beyond recovery. We found him at last in th: cellar, curled up on a jar of pineapple marmalade and souni asleep. There was a low place under | | [ ception. Another jar close beside him and two- | borrowing female? Who shull answer? diet | Be it as it may voor while we were refusing o b comforted. | her hands. thirds empty teld what had been And meek and penitent he was for day after his discovery—just ike a boy afier detection, One of Joe’s favorite tricks was to get into his mistress’ chamb:r, steal in be- tween the pillows an | hide himse!f down at the foot of the bed as night came. All this was done so adroitly that he was not discovered till one's feet came in contact with his sofr, warm fur. This cunning little trick was not altogether agreeable, so the door was kept closed. A window opening upon a porch was not closed, however, and Joe, discovering tiiis, gained access to the porch by means cf another | room with open door and window. Bound- ing into the bedroom, he was soon in his | coveted place again, and seeminz greatly grieved when compelled to give it up. Qur Joe loved everybody, with one ex- This exception was a woman who lived next door, and who often came into our kitchen on a borrowing expedi- tion. The cook could not endure her and | used to purchase the vilest butter to be and a iittle of everything else | ditto, on purpose to lend to her s> she POUNced upon the intruter. found, would not come again. What was it of foreboding, of a prescience past man’s comprehension, that seemed to change the gentle, trusting nature of the otterand made him slink away and hide or show Lis fine white teeth as if in defense when- ever he caught sizht of that miserable | kicked his Jast. | the breath Joe met his death at “She haa killed him for his fur,” she said, “and he was no good an how.” He was rescued, however, befor as quite gone from his beau- tiful body and the woman and her hu band were comp:iled to leave town, so great was the excitement and indignation over Joe’s “taking off.”’ The little fellow was buried *‘with hon- ors,’”” and as for the tears, that fell like rain—well, never mind. HesTer A. BE EDICT. A éfiarrov; L:gnci;\ed. A sugcessful lynching took plac» on the farm of Jerume Butler, soutn of arlette, Mich., the other day, s the Grand Ra | ids He d. In the barn aswallow’s nest was seen clinging to the side of a beam, from which was suspended an English sparrow hung by the neck with a hair from a horse’s tail. ‘While Frankiin But- ler and Orla Albertson were sitti barn tuey noticed a sparrow go i swallow’s nest, from which he pitchinz the young birds, Three swallov attracted by their cutery, immediate Atter confin- few mitiutes, they ing him to the nest fora threw bim out. He dronped abouta there was a jerk, and Mr. Sparrow was hanged as nicely as though an expert banzman had been in charge. The hair was wound around his neck several t'mes and after a few ineffectual struggles he foot, Noman who has eyes for the things, about him ctan walk on the sireets or ride ir .tire cars of a city to-day without be- coming awure that advertising forms no unimportant factor in the great seh me of | modern business. Itisabusiness in iteelr, a science—nay, even & fine as we must | believe on seeing some ¢f the striking signs and artistic posters of to-day, whicn are indeed vrorks of art and which have | taken the place of the commonnplace sign- boards and uely chromos of days gone by. But T have not to do with these expres- | sions of ziodern ideas cf advertising. | Space limits me toa cursory deccrip ion of those advertisements in San Francisco | wiiich are not confined to shop-window or | signboard, lut are continuously on the move, seen_now here, uow there. up one | street and down another—San Francisco’s ubiquitous "‘ads™ on wheels. ‘ kid,” wh:ch joy to teli the tale. unconfined. One of the most striking affairs of this sort is the del very wagon in connection ! with a whole<ale firm in the city. carries perched conspicuously on top of it a life-size image of the 1nevitable “yellow vursts on the vision of the passer-by in yellow splendor with a smile never to be forgotten and ears which area this convenient kid, when he is through with his mission, issnugly tucked away in the body of the wagon, which then assumes the aspect of an orainary delivery wagon with nothing but ihe “yeliow kid's" ears sticking out This A very neat and quite original design in the way of a delivery wagon sentinga new-sawn loz of wood fresh from the forest. The wagon is not gaudv nor striking, yet one gives it more than a casual giance because of its novelty and is oie repre- good taste, and is inclined to investigate further to see what bearing the design has on the business of the advertiser, and finds that itis a play on the name oi the firm. A house having a patent medicine to sell evidently believes in the truth that pictures speak a universal language and appeal to ail classes of people, the edu- cated and the illiterate, the old and the | young, and has apparenily devised its wagon with this truth in mind, for more conspicuous than driver or horse is a giant representation of a bottle contain- ing the article which the firm desires to bring and keep before the eyes of the pub- lie. Another pusiness concern has a very striking but withal plain litile wagon in the shape of a sphere of delicate yellow with lettering of a deeper shade of the same color, and so fine is the workman- ship that the surface has almost the ap- pearance of enamel. is not large nor brilliant, but the neat combination of colors, together with the fact that it is the only wagon of that de- sign in the city, causes it to impress itself upon the mind, and one always associates it with the house to which it belongs. Even the humble chimney-sweep must needs keep up with the times and let peo- pie know where he is and what he is do- ing. or he will be lost, so to speak, and realizing that the man who would be suoc- | cessful in his business, no matier how lowly it be, isthe one who adopts an ad vertisementstriking enough to attract the attention of the passer-by, uses a wagon which is a diminutive cottage on whcels, with cimneys to sweep and all complete. A most peculiar affair is the delivery This advertisement | wagon of a downtown merchant, who de- livers his wares in a cart which is in the form of a monster rooster, painted in all the gaudy colors of which the most gayly decked cock of the walk can boast. He is 80 large that the driver is quite hidden within bis breast while his great pody is the receptacle of all sorts of ranch pro- duc, delivered throughout tha city. Lately many lines of trade have adopted these specialties in the way of advertising wagons, from the coffea man who aelivers his goods in a great coffee-pot on wheels to the piano-dealer, who carries pianos around in a wagon, each side of which is | built torepresent the front view of a piano. Methods of advertising have progress=d and develop>d marvelously within tue last few years, but advertising its:lt 1s hundrelsof years old. Discoveries at the ancient cities of Pompeii and Herculan- eum go to show thatl primitive advertise- ments were painted on houses, and at the beginning of the Christian era pictures and signs were emnloyed to distinguish trades and occupations, for then the art of reading was known to but few and an actual representation appe led more strongly to men than a written descrip- | tion would hive done. Then came the mrv. of publicity accomplishel through the cflices of the town crier, who with forceful words broug it to ihe attention of the public the business of his master. When ths newspaper appeired the pos- sibilities and imporiance of advertisix ng were realized 10 a limited extent; but even then it was, comparatively snenkmg, little indul ‘ed in. Fiity years ago it was not what couid be called common, but the deve.opment of business and the competi- tive systemsof to-day have made it an | ing alone, we are forced io abso’ute necessity, and the rroblem o1 how to let the worid know what one has to offer and its merits 1s a vital one. This aecessity of these end of the nineteenth century day< has opened up amnew fieid for the genius and the artist, for rede en: blems of trade roughly depicted are p more, and inartist:c sign-boards are ; thing of the past. When it is considered that some §200,- 000,000 is being expended the United States in annuall 1 newspaper adyertis- the belief tha s advice is being followed, » that if a man’s capital consists of iingone penny should b invested in stock 1n trade and :he other eleyen pence in advertising, Barnur namel ash ’ Russian lovers send a daily résent 10 their fiancees, »