The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, February 20, 1898, Page 26

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 20, 1898 EDITED BY DAVID AWALKER; CRUISE OF THE CALIFORNIA. was still CHAPTER XVIL Harry Ostend at once set about find- ing a place for a camp, for it was not safe or wise to go into the s s’ ge then. Koti i interpreted all e witch doc had said about yme to carry The witch doc- to men having such fury ttot by any white would hav ed the whole enterprise, and migt led to the death of Harry Ostend and of all his followers. A small grc which was almost sur- rounded by a t e of briars— > as Kemona had found above the a ank ted. Pine cocoanut trees and melon Vi ed in the grove, and through it r which was well stocked of safety. Looking at chutes in a plac 18 of the the perpendic tains around d plan was dev y him, was in a trap from which it S very difficult, if not impossi- ble, to escape. He therefore began to think about a fire balloon of great size, capable of carryi e or four men. It was necessary that he should have some light but very durable fu ble of producing an i sure to burn in & rain fall upon it mixing the gums of t arned by trees. One mass of this, he ] experiment, would burn fierce hours. The she furnished him safely carry the gum. Mr. Ostend was r for the parachutes had enough cloth to cover a great balloon—one of the size neede B y ht as well as by day Kemona and Koti acted as sentinels that the party might not be surprised. But no savage came near the camp until after the balloon had been completed. In fact a trial had been made, and it had been found that the balloon would ea ily carry three men. The white men now had a way to escape, in install- ments, but how were they to get pos- session of the white king?—for he was jealously guarded. When the savages came near the grove, it appeared that the greater part of the nation must be the Harry Ostend had celebrated the success of the balloon by exploding powder, which he had buried in a mine. This caused a quaking of the groynd in the village of the savages and excited their fears anew. * Their witch doctor had told them to go to the white men and beg that they would not shake the earth to pieces. Harry Ostend had foreseen that the savages would be alarmed, and his pur- pose was to force them to come to him. The tribes came with the sound of beating snakeskin drums—with wailing of women and children—w th ange and weird chanting of death songs. Surely such a volume of woe had never before any savage land. First of all the long lines of dusk: ked their witch doctor. He v most that magnificent man, phy 1 stend had ever seen. with build that wied, he walked was loudest in feet ta might hav His voice a Kkir chanting of the death songs. He to whom all of the many thou- sands of ages looked for guidance. He was like a statue carved out of low-savages were all tall and All, men and women alike, lled in the use of the weapons ges. Their faces bespoke ty and hate but—not less unmis- ly—fear of the white men. They were now unarmed. Seeing this, Mr. Ostend had no hesitation in going out anong them, accompanied by Koti, 21d act as an interpreter. The gathered around Harry’ . who waved them back. The witch doctor spoke to them and they 2 A 4 DE BUM PKINZ (FAIKED UP FER. T, R (A TAlKC NOTIZ i— U0 REURR and MEAVAJERY DE GOTE HiLL BdMD FEROZHU?2 ANIMILER ___ LOMG HARED Men!! WiLL Soou APERE UUDER KAWVUZ ALSO E OR2TRAYLUK GIANT ALL 1M1 & TENT K.OLLO2RALL ACT? . 5 BLUD KURDLIN EIDe2 A REAL Lion HUN WILD WE2T OLEYO DE' SHO ERCEP FROM D€ "SAU FRaVSI2KER- KAUL" WATCH-FER De-SUNDLY-KAUL: | R B your white King. Him alone will we consider.” The witch doctor went to where the savages were gathered and repeated what had been said. At once war seemed to be near. The savages de- manded that the parley should end, and that the white men should be driven out. “Better,” they said, “that some of us shouid die now than that all should perish e it so,” said Harry Ostend, proud- ly. “The white men who came down from the sky have nothing to fear. Look to your mountains, that they do not fall upon you this night.” So speaking, he waved his hand as a n. His watchful comrades upon the instant, while Harry Ostend stocd fac- ing the great crowd, with a smile of disdain upon his face, lighted the fuses to several mines that had been made in the land surrounding the grove, for use in just such an emergency. Hardly had Ostend spcken, therefore, when the savages on the knolls, upon which there was the greatest gathering of warrfors, felt the earth uptorn beneath their feet by some mysterious and hid- DE OKAZHUV].) . r7 ¥ T ARTI2T LET MTU =% & withdrew to a distance, but there they could hear what was_said. “Who are you,” demanded Harry Ostend, “and what would you ask of e beg that you will leave —our country and not bring woe upon us?” “Are you the King of this people?” Yes.” . “Do not lie to us,” said Mr. Ostend, sternly. “Bring us your King at once or we will shake the land with earth- quakes such as will throw down the mountains about your heads. Send us THE BUMPKIN R A S S ARE TRYING HARD TO HAVE A LOT den power. Smoke and sudden flame, a noise as if the hills were being torn from their bases, the odor of powder— these startled the savages. They looked up only to see Harry Os- tend standing before them, cool and smiling, his right hand upraised, as if he would call down from the sky the power to finish the work of destruction and really topple over the vast moun- tains from their bases. He, at whose only gesture the solid earth crumbled—he still stood before them. Hark! He speaks to them =— again. “Your King at once, or the wnrk.o( ruin shal! not stop until the mountains have filled up the valley and you are no more.” “It must be so,” the people wailed. “Oh, great witch doctor, bring the King, that we may not all—the warriors and the women, the old men and our little children—perish. Silent the great multitude stood, si- lent and trembling, as the witch doctor escorted from his village the white King. But when the King and the witch doctor, obeying a haughty gest- ure by Harry Ostend, entered the grove, their wails and death songs broke forth with all the strength of the people. The witch doctor had a cruel-looking knife. This he held over the white King, with the evident intention of striking the King down at any motion he might make to escape. Harry Ostend’s time had not come. The balloon was not full. “One week from to-night,” said the King, in German, “my brave friend, the people will celebrate the birth of their witeh doctor, with sacrifices of victims. If you make a move now the witch doc- tor, who is at once fearless and a fa- natie, will kill me. Come, then, if your courage and ability do not fail you.” “We will be there,” said Ostend. ‘When the savages saw their King re- turn to them they were glad, and even showed signs of friendliness, but Harry Ostend mistrusted them. “They will see us in their village,” he said, “but it will be in connection with the most remarkable surprise that ever yet befell to savages, since the was made.” D. W. (To be Continued.) LT BERNICE AND HER CHIPMUNKS BY LILLIAN E. PURDY. ‘Way up in the mountains of Alpine County, California, thirty-two miles from the nearest railroad and 5676 feet above the level of the sea, lives a little girl of 10 years who has a special fad of her own—she traps, raises and trains chipmunks for pets. Her pets are trained so that they will come and lick her fingers when she calls them. They are always glad to see her, for she is very gentle with them. I have seen Bernice, the little mis- tress of the squirrels, with her furry friends. Once, when Bernice had called to the 'squirrels, she opened the door of a cage in which there were two chip- munks. Slipping her hand in she* brought out one of her pets to show me all his tricks and antics. She stroked his soft coat, and the little trembling creature—trembling, because his rapid heart beats are observable even to the tip end of his fur—licked her hand and looked contented. Then she placed him upon her head, and he nestled there as comfortable “as a bug in a rug.” She then allowed him to run over her shoulders and arms and back to her lap again, and before the little fellow was returned to his cage he had been up her sleeve and even into her pocket, where he was rewarded for his perlformanucs by finding a heap of pine nuts, It is a curious fact that there is not another member of the household who dares lay a hand upon Bernice's pets, for it will be remembered that chip- munks have sharp teeth and are very fond of biting. Once, when one of the pets _madgi’ his escape from captivity, Bernice’s brother might have caught the deserter, for he saw him on the porch, but he knew that there was danger near those pointed teeth and the chipmunk would struggle against being captured by any hands but those of his gentle mistress. For several summers Bernice has cn_ught chipmunks, and this she accom- plishes in a very simple manner. She arranges the most primitive sort of trap, consisting of a box and a stick baited with apple or grain. The unwary creature nibbles at the apple, the sup- port moves and the box flies down over him. She thus catches him without any injury to his slender body or downy coat, and keeps him as long as her sweet will pleases—which is from a day to a year or two, and sometimes longer. s At one time her company of pets she keeps from three to six in the cages. When she is off camping in the summer she often catches three or four in a day, plays with them and lets them go at night. All animals, even little insignificant chipmunks, know their friends, and it is surprising with Wwhat readiness they will respond to a gentle touch or a kind word. It‘ is the habit with chipmunks and squirrels and all other animals of that family to lie dormant in winter, but not so with Bernice’s pets. Their cages always stand in the neighborhood of a warm stove, and there is not a day, - though the wind be groaning around house corners and the snow piled to second story windows, that Bernice may not coax her mountain friends from their cage and pass a pleasant hour or two in frolic with them. And food? Why, if she did not deal out to them daily the pine nuts that the Indians give her by the bagful in autumn the chipmunks would be well supplied with food, for they have a larder of their own. They will crack pine nuts with wonderful deftness, peel off the thin skin, cram as many as ten of the unshelled nuts into their mouths at one time, running with them to the second story of their house, where they pack them away carefully in the fuzzy mass that makes their bed. Indeed, just under that scrap of carpet of which I have spoken you will gee dozens of pine nuts tucked away ready for the winter, when the deep snow hides from them a dally susten- ance. Crackers, bread and grain form also ~a part of their winter fare. In the spring, of course, when insects are more plentiful, their menu is more varied. It is then that grasshoppers are their special relish. And many are the times that Bernice had dropped a live grass- ho]fper into the cage to see them clutch at it with lightning rapidity. They de- vour legs and head. They make the little nest or bed of CATHERINES SACRIFICE. ATHERINE LEE was silent and thoughtful. “What is my child thinking about?” asked her mother. “I have not found out any un- selfish way to celebrate my thirteenth birthday.” “Let yme see. Yes, your birthday should find you doing good to some one. Catherine, dear, I have been thinking about Elsle Brown.” “My school rival?” s “Yes, your rival. Elsie’s mother is very poor and is an invalid. I called on her only yesterday and found Elsie there. The child was working busily making dolls’ clothes.” For her dolls?” s “No. Her mother told me that their money was all gone. Elsie must work early and late. Often she toils at the sewing machine until midnight. Rich ladies have agreed to take the dolls’ clothes she makes for their children. By such labor she keeps food and fuel in the house.” “When does she study so hard? Oh, mamma,” said Catherine, with tears in her blue eyes, “I see it all now. She must give up her play time, and just to think the girls have all blamed her for being offish—keeping by herself, and they have called her proud, vain of her scholarship. And, mamma, I have done her wrong by thinking so, too.” Mrs. Lee looked grave. “Well, my dear,” she said, after a pause, “there is a way to undo your share of the wrong, and it would be nice to perform your duty on your birthday.” “What can I1do?” “Would my little girl give up her promised birthday party for the sake of Elsie?” To give up that birthday party! Catherine had long dreamed of that party. Her little cousins from Philadel- phia, who had never been in San Fran- cisco, were to be there, Alice and Mary, who were about her own age; and all her nice friends had been invited; and there were to be music and games, cakes and candies and rich presents. She had been promised a new piano and she knew that her uncle from Phil- Pgaieg=geg=g=g=2-F:-3-3-3-3-F-3-3-3-3-3-3-3-F-F-3-3-3-3-3-3-3 -3 =3 -F =333 -] sex in literature ? F=gefeReFeFoFoRuTeguRuTaFe=F=gagaFaFaya] the page. lication, Upon the six feReBuPeFuFaPegePegaguguIeuuFugeiegageguFeFaFaFoFoRTuguRaReRo ey their house from scraps of cloth that are given them for the purpose. If you give them a bit of burlap four inches square in less than fifteen minutesthey will have it torn into a wooly mass in which you cannot distinguish a single thread. BUMPKINS AND SEA TODDLEKINS The Bumpkins will, next Sunday, with the assistance of Bronstrup, make their bows in connection with their “Sirkuss and Meanagery,” of which they give notice to-day in a poster, which has been tacked by them upon the Boys' and Girls’ page g This morning a connected history of the Sea To@§dlekins Family is opened up by Culver. This history will be told pictorially, and what befalls baby sea toddlekins and sea toddlekins general- ly will be graphically and humorously depicted. Two Toddlekins have just been magried, and the wedding proces- sion is on its way from the church to- day. HERE 1S A NOVEL CONTEST. Boys or girls? [s there any superiority of It is proposed to institute a movel competi= tion upon the boys’ and girls’ page of The Call to assist in determining this question. Upon successive Sunday mornings, the dates soon to be named, there will be an opportunity for a demonstration of the relative literary abilities of our boys and girls. Omne Sunday morning the boys will occupy The next Sunday the page will be given up entirely to the writings of the girls. From the communications six written by boys and six written by girls will be selected for pub= the boys and the six who represent the girls the interest of thousands of readers will be cen- tered. The honor of occupying the represent= ative positions will be eagerly sought. : Now suggestions concerning the competition are requested from all the boys and girls. you prefer to write stories or essays? Perhaps you fancy that poetry is your forte. How do you wish to have the jurors selected to decide whether the boys or the girls are the victors in this novel rivalry ? Shall they be educators, journalists or Judges of our courts? Suggestions upon these and all other kindred considerations are now in order. 06206 308 06 106 308 108 308 306 108 306 108 308 0% 308 0% 308 30 308 08 308 0% 308 108 308 308 208 308 308 208 308 306 306 XX X 0 ¥ selected champions for Do b= adelphia would give her something fine. ~ Catherine uttered a little cry of alarm. “It is not compulsory, dear,” her mother said, “you shall do exactly as you please. Come, I am going to make a call, and I wish you to go with me. Perhaps you will be able to make up * your mind during the day.” A few minutes later Mrs. Lee and Catherine were ready and walking briskly along the street in which is their handsome San Francisco home. It was winter, but the air was sweet with flowers growing in the door yards. A few blocks farther on Mrs. Lee led the way into a small court, removed from the street, and, going to the door of a poor-looking house, rang the bell. ‘“Catherine!” “Elste!" The two girls were face to face. faces of both suddenly flushed. Elsie had heard the girls mutter that she was proud and unsociable and had been hurt by their injustice. The same thought was in Catherine’s mind, but she impulsively seized Elsie’s hands and kissed her. That one act broke down the barrier between them, and tears rushed to Elsie’s eyes. The ~ ~ Entering Mrs. Brown’s home, Cather- ine’s quick glance took in all the poor surroundings of the invalid mother and her heart smote her again. The call was made short, for Mrs. Lee saw that Elsie had many dolls’ dresses to com- plete and also that on a table lay open her school books, which she had evi- dently been studying as she moved about doing the housework. = “Elsie has no idle moments,” Mrs. Brown had said sadly, ‘‘she studies .n_nl the time she is not working for me. “Tut, mother,” brave Elsie had an- swered, “‘by and by I will be a teacher and earn lots of money. Then I will take you to ride in the park, and you will be strong and well. Besides, mamma, I am glad of the chance to show you how much I really love you. These words rang long in Catherine’s memory. All day she struggled with her selfishness. She had several crying spells before she could decide to give up her party. When she had con- quered self she was filled with curiosity concerning what her mothe~ had in view. 3 “There will be no party, mamma, she said softly, as she looked up and saw Mrs. Lee. “Come then,” said Mrs. Lee, well pleased, “we will hold a ‘charity fair on your birthday; only no one must know for whose benefit it is intended. The birthday arrived and the fair came off. What was the surprise when Catherine asked her mother to put up her new piano, her choicest present, for sale. Her mother’s friends vied with each other in running up the price of this instrument, and it was finally sold for a large sum.- While the day was filled with self- sacrifice, Catherine was happy when night came, and sang even as she saw her piano being carried away. Her uncle bought her a finer one the next day. Mrs. Brown never knew where the large sum of money came from that en- abled her to have the comforts neces- sary to hasten her recovery. She may have guessed, but Mrs. Lee and Cathe— rine never spoke of the matter. When Catherine won the school medal for which she was competing with Elsie, her only real rival, no one was more pleased than was Elsie. Catherine would have given it to Elsie, but Elsie said “No.” AN ADVENTURE ON THE YUKON, BY HARRY McCARTY. ‘With rifle strapped across my back, provision bag in one hand and survey- ing instruments in the other I started down the Yukon. ‘While rounding a place where two icebergs had toppled over I was startled by a growl, which sent a chill to my bones. Well did I know the sound. I turned as I skated on and saw a ter- rible polar bear. By degrees as I skated he gained on me, till at length but a few paces sepa- rated us. In my desperation I un- strapped my uncharged gun and as best I might at the speed I was going with trembling fingers loaded it. T had little hope in taking a successful aim in such an awkward position. But taking chances I turned, glanced speedily along the gun barrel and fired. Then I sped over the ice as rapidly as I could go. The shot took effect and the bear slackened his pace, but soon my terror was reawakened when I heard the brute’s labored breathing nearer and nearer. The wound I had inflicted was not severe and he was not disabled. I turned abruptly toward the river bank, hoping to escape by stratagem. The bear might pass without noticing me. A strap of one skate broke and I fell. My reloaded gun was discharged. Simultaneously with the report I heard the ice crash. I rose just in time to see the bear sink beneath the icy waters of the Yukon. My bullet had struck him just as he was on thin ice and by a wonderful chance had hit a vital part. I knelt upon the ice and offered up a prayer. OUR CORRESPONDENTS, ANNA ROBERTS writes her first letter from Chico. She goes to the Sierra every summer. Her next birthday will be No- vember 30. JULIETTE DRISCOLL has written a pretty little poem for the Boys and Girls’ page, which will appear in print in turn. TOM LEUTNER—The public library contains a department of juvenile liter- ature. Tt is open to all children who re= side ir San Francisco. VERA CHISHOLM—Your communica=- tion was delayed in delivery. Try again. ‘W'l the little girl in Portiand who wrote “My Old Home" please send her address? Her name was not appended to the communication. (;L:;RA A. BAUFILL, Byron—Poem re= celved. HELVETIA POZZI, 12 years old, writeg from Oakland: My little cousin visited my uncle's ranch once and says she does not like the way they get milk in the country. sShe says in the city you get it out of a nice clean can and there they squeeze it out of old cows. I like the Boys and Girls' paga very much and always rush for it in the morning to read in bed.” THE BABY PIONEER. Each blade of grass its secret had and whispered it to him, The stories of the glens he learned fromy every swaying limb. And when the far Sierras raised o'er clouds their summits steep, The little boy laughed, for he knew they, played with him bo-peep. “I'm going to be a Pioneer,” he told the birds one day. “Much easier,” they whistled back, “for little boys to play.” But he had counseled with the flowers, and golden poppies tol Him that they symbolized a heart of gold. d a land that hag e {Mx i i i I },I il L