The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, April 17, 1898, Page 31

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, APRIL 17, 1898. S AViD H Wi TOMB.-RIDE = —g THE BOY UPON A BALLOON I'd be the gladdest boy alive 2 Ii I knowed much as that S An’ ould stand up and like him drive BY FRANK HARROLD An’ ist push back myrhat, Like he comes skallyhootin’ through 'l’ * HER 1t excitement in g Our alley, with one arm the little coun town of Vernc | wre-ye-well! to you— Everybody was all in atter 1o lives on our farm. at balloon that 1 come at up into the air with a i —#— n fre t balloonist tpe other hbed at every rope and cord in sig By this time he was far from tt earing along in the away from TOM RAYMOND'S PERILOUS R ught that if he balloon when the rd everybody would 1 for a n strutted tc m the s started once with Tom. U ople the ballo up, until t ¥ and rose . f wind came, »alloon lie over on its g to th s like a leech o ballcon righted. ' Then to his he that the the Y in the bo .om of alloon’s hasket, where the cable pa; he cable a ,reat As t continually the 1 fr side very ti cing th: cable i f the holes and we allhonist did not know of this or 1d not have let Tom go up. »wn as quick as you can,” Tom at the top of his voice. eing used to hearing the r to his assistant. ord AH the power of the engine was ex- Bav yalloonist thinking that Tom and that he might Suddenly there came another tronger gust, Jerking the bout - terribl 'hen came 4 which was fol- lowed by a 2 ang like the report of a rifle. The cable had snapped and the balloon shot upward in the air like &n arrow from a bow. A terrific shout went up from below. The aeronaut snatched up a speaking trumpet from the cord & shouted: Pull the lve cord 1 the valve cord and save your life, >oor Tom He clung to the ropes with all his strength and then could hardly stay with the balloon. A thou- ughts flashed through his : thought about his mother, had told him not to do anything us without her consent. But words of the balloon owner aroused men who had followed They took him home. his trouble to always get his mother's E-5-5E-38505E38EEa ON THE FARM. JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY, 5 the dear on At times the wind would bear down on the balloon, and at other times the balloon would start up as if to pierce the heavens. At last Tom's grasp was laid on a thin cord which was flapping wildly and he pulled it. A ng I ing sound followed which 1 Tom and then the thought that he covered the He uttered a thanksgiving a again pulled 2 lloon at heeded its 1 s and stopped ris- but did not lower any, except from < another pull and illoon_descending. A ery of , and he d stili > balloon, , losing descended rapidly, fright- 0 much as to make him let go of the cord. When the balloon got within a hun- IDE IN A RUNAWAY BALLOON. dred feet of the ground it fe:l no more, but swept rapidly along through the air. Tom d. t pull the cord any more for fear of the balloon collapsing on top of some tree. On swept the bal- loon. Nearing a great poplar tree Tom thought his end had come. s the balloon neared the tree it rose gradually "and the basket brushed among the uppermost br: ches only. But as the balloon was drawing away a remnant of the cable hanging ow caught in the branches and held the balloon fast. The balloon being too weak now to do much —-lling floated around the tree with the wind and at last Tom was safe on the solid ground. But then his strength was all gone and he fainted. He was soon found by a party of . "“HE BURNED THE BRIDGE." the balloon. He learned by at’s the wa Wi THE BOY AT LARGE. JAMES HOGG Where the pools are bright and deep, Where the gray trout lies asleep, Up the river-and o'er the lea, v for Billy and me— Where the hazel bank is steepest, Where the shadow falls the decpest, re the clustering nuts fall free— That’s the way for Billy and me. B R e e P PR R R W Where v the cord? consent before he did any hazardous held on with one hand and with action. ~E-E-3-p-a-E-0-0-E-E-O-Eaaw : THE WRECK OF A TRAIN BY FLOYD SMITH, SAN FRANCISCO! N the spring of 1882 a special freight train started from Casa Grande to Yuma. There were twenty-four empty boxcars, one car of merchan- dise and one of cartridges and powder for Fort Yuma. After passing Mohawk Summit for a few miles the road is nearly level to Yuma. The crew had been out eighteen hours and were near- ly all tired out. They had left Yuma in the morning and were returning with the special train. The train was running very fast after leaving the summit and the fireman, being worn out, asked the head brakeman to fire for him, after which «the exhausted man fell asleep on the seat. The speed across the flat was about twenty miles an hour. This part of the road was raised three or four feet by banks of sand. The brakeman was shoveling coal into the fire very fast, when suddenly the engineer called, “The bridge is burnt,” and jumped out of the windm The brakeman, drop- ping his shovel, shouted to the fire- BOSE SAVED HIS MASTER. BY FRANK McCARTHY, LOS ANGELES. 0OD-BY, Bose; God bless you; now go!” The speaker was an American boy in Cuba. He was born of . Spanish parents in California. He had reached Cuba as a stowaway. His skin was dark. He sp ke Spanish flu- ently. The Spaniards in Havana took him for a Cuban. He was brought be- fore a man in uniform, who asked him some questions and then ordered that he should be sent to one of the camps of reconcentrados. Frank Kimball was not the boy to be downcast even there, surrounded by starving meén, women and children. To repay his courage Bose, a dog that had voyaged with him also as a stowaway from Key West to Havana, found his way to the recon- centrado_camp. Frank Kimball’s friends did not know what had become of him. The captain of the American steamer Starlight would help him, he knew, if possible, Fraik had already seen enough of Cuba to satisfy his curiosity. Here was Bose! Frank threw his arms around the dog’s neck when his canine friend came to him in his trouble. Quick witted, the lad hastily penciled a note and fastened it beneath the dog’s col- lar. “Good-by, B God bless yo now go!” The dog scemed to understand the boy. It was dusk and no sentinel no- ticed what had happened. Hardly had Frank ceased to speak when the dog di >d in thé gathering shades of Straightway Bose found his to Havana; as promptly he plung- and under the frowning Castle swam to the as she lay in the stream. v the dog was seen and was taken on board. % But just 'fore Christmas I'm as EUGENE FIELD. Father calls me William, sister calls me Will, Mother calls ‘me Willie, but:the fellers call me Bill Mighty glad I ain’t a girl—rather be a boy 2 Without them sashes, curls and things that’s worn by Fauntleroy. Love to chaw green apples and go swimmin’ in the lake; Hate to take the castor-ile they give for belly-ache. "Most all the time, the whole year round, there ain’t no flies on me; good as I kin be 5O N EB NN EA-§E-EE N B EEE-OEa THE CHRISTMAS BOY. PALE FACE WAS BRAVE. BY ALFRED LAWSON, SEATTLE. HITE boy no good. Indian boy Wbm\'e. Pale face boy weak like girl. I will own that this stung my pride. 1 was passing the summer on an In- dian reservation in the Northwest, and, being a good shot, a fast runner, a deep diver and a passably good horseman, I thought that I had the re- spect of the Indians. But here was an Indian boy, younger than myself, taunting me with being weak and also a coward! “Have a care, Buffalo!” I said. “Per- haps you will know more soon!” “Ugh!” that was all the answer the Indian boy, would make. I did not say any more then, but held my temper and waited. Buffalo and I went out hunting to- gether not many days after this con- versation, Both had fine horses, and we were well armed with the best re- peating rifles. We soon struck the trail of a deer and rode after it hot and fast. Soon the track of another deer THE: CRITICAL MOMENT ARRIVES AND FRANK KIMBALL STANDS BEFORE‘A FIRING SQUAD. man, “Ed gangv Many thoughts passed through the brakeman’s head as he turned over and over. He could see and hear cars mashing, jamming and piling on top. of each other and he wondered what had £d,” as he jumped from the become of the fireman. When he stopped rolling he thought he was killed. The engine and twenty-four cars had piled up in the creek and he was under the whole mass of burning, creaking cars. He managed to crawl out without help, getting nothing but a slight scratch. He thought of the fire- man again. and with the help of the other hands “Ed” was extricated from under the burning mass. When taken out the fireman’s clothing was all on fire and he was burned so badly that he died shortly after. The engineer had got out through the window and was slightly scalded. The two brakemen and the conduc- tor who were in the caboose were bad- ly shaken up, but not seriously in- jured. The bridge was a thirty-two-foot trestle, and in some manner the tim- bers had all been burned from under- neath. When the engine struck the bed it was going very fast. The pilot hit the bank on the other side so hard that the engine turned right over on its back. After the fireman had been taken out the men uncoupled the caboose and ran it away from the other cars, which were on fire. They tried to get the car with the cartridges and powder away, but could not, as it was on the edge of the creek and pulled tight bv the cou- pling of the other cars. The men, never thinking of the danger of the powder getting lighted by a spark, opened the car and put the powder and cartridges into the end farthest from the fire. Then they worked very hard until they had covered the car with sand. Of course this was slow work, and one end of it was badly burned. Not until the work was over did they realize that at any moment they might have all been blown up. A man was then dispatched toYuma, about eight miles away. At 6 o'clock in the morning the wrecking train ar- rived. The Yuma Indians came to get what booty they could, but they were peaceable and disturbed no one. The tired men had to lay another track around the wreck so that the regular trains could pass. It was an experience none wanted to repeat, and - connected therewith . were so frightened that they never re- called the accident without a shudder. This is a true story. ——— The war spirit has evidently taken strong hold upon the boys. The stories by the girls deal with much milder themes. They are varied and pleasing. The names of the judges will be an- nounced next Sunday. -what Frank had written. Bose would not be kept out of the captain’s cabin. Hs scratched at the door until Captain Newcomb heard him. The dog acted so strangely and was so much excited that Captain Newcomb knew that something was the matter. 3 “Bose, where is Frank?” asked the captain. The dog knew. the name of Frank and barked. Captain Newcomb, who had worried because Frank, to whom he had taken a strong fancy, had not returned to. the Starlight, watched Bose carefully. He saw a piece of pa- per under the dog's collar. “This is bad,” he said as he read “There is no time to be lost. I have heard that the Spaniards will shoot suspects to- morrow. Perhaps he is threatened An hour later the bell of the Ameri- can Consular Office in Havana was rung. Consul General Lee came to the door.. Captain Newcomb told what he wanted. General Lee went with Cap- tain Newcomb to the office of General —————, ‘the Spanish commander in chief. There a pass was procured for Captain Newcomb and an order to the commandant at the camp. “Speed,” sald General Lee, “for the boy will be shot at daybreak, unless you get there in time.” At daybreak Frank Kimball was marched, with. several others, to a wall to be shot. “Hurrah for the American flag,” shouted Frank in the presence of im- pending death. The Spanish officer scowled. “Ready!” he commanc:d, and the rixfles of the guard came to a deadly aim, My country, 'tis of thee, Sweet land of iiberty. Clear and strong the words and mel- ody rang on the damp morning air. The Spanish commandant raised his sword. : “Fire!” he said. - But at that moment Captain Newcomb came upon the scene. He shouted, when at some dis- tance, and the soldiers hesitated. That pause saved Frank’s life. Captain wewcomb, breathless, hand- ed the general's order to the com- mandant. Scowling, that officer or- dered that Frank should be set free. As Frank went away a volley told him that his late comrades in misery had fallen. Bose received more. hugs and'his head was patted more .times than could be counted when Frank saw him once more, He had saved his young master's life. The boy writers who have their stories published in competition with’ the stories written by the girls' this morning make their collective bow to the readers of The Call and there is no doubt that the gidls will read every word the boys have penned and will wonder how their page will compare joined in with those of the first one, and it was clear hai they were going -toward water or a salt lick, and that there would be a herd of deer there. The horses scented the game, and, with wide nostrils, took in the spirit of the chase. I was on my mettle. The words of Buffalo had not ceased to rankle. I pushed on and soon had the satisfac- tion of seeing the Indian boy losing ground. Now my horse was a nose ahead; now a length; then I lost sight of Buffalo. I knew that I had a better mount than he had—but not much bet- ter. He quickened his pace, and the sound of his horse’s hoofs came nearer. Suddenly I realized that'I was alone. Turning in my saddle I saw that Buf- falo’s horse had fallen and that he was down. Buffalo was smiling when I rode back to where he was. He could not move. He had broken some bones. His horse had ‘a broken leg, having s pped into a prairie dog’s hole while going at full speed. Twenty long miles to the Indian camp and only one horse to carry us! Not one! As I leaped from the saddle and went to Buffalo to help him a low, moaning sound came across the country lying between us and the buttes beyond. My horse pricked up his ears, sniffed the air sharply and turn- ed and ran off, homeward bound, and we two were alone on the plain; one of us hopelessly disabled .and some sort of wild beast or wild beasts coming. “Wolves! - White boy save himself!"” RBuffalo smiled even as he told me to go away and leave him to his fate, which would be to be torn to pieces by wolves while still alive. “Can you. use.your arms, Buffalo?" “Yes, I will do very well. Follow your horse and be safe.” I made no reply. The time had come to satisfy the Indian concerning my courage. Half an hour passed before the wolves were up on us; but it seem- ed an age. 1 was standing and Buf- falo was sitting when the brutes began ‘to circle around us, looking for a safe place to make their attack. They were hungry, half-famished brutes' and as fierce as one can imagine them to have been. There were at least fifty of them. They howled and snapped,their teeth horribly. Although Buffalo was in great pain- with his broken bones, his aim was per- fect. He smiled as wolf after wolf fell before his bullets. But the continual banging did not scare the wolves. They were after Buffalo’s dead horse, which L might be better to eat than their fallen comrades. Before our bullets were all gone two wolves attacked Buffalo. With a shout I leaped to his side and rained blows about me with the butt ¢f.Buffalo’s rifle upon their skulls. They tore my face and hands and stripped my cloth- ing. - My strength was failing as my blood flowed from many a wound. Buf- falo was growing weak. Crack! Crack! Crack! Help had come. Indian braves rode up, firing as they came. The wolves were at last frightened and ran. That night we were once more in camp. Had I proved my courage enough to please Buffalo? “White boy just as good as Indian boy,” he said, as we re- clined by the campfire a fortnight later. ABOY'S PLAN l BY GUSSIE TAYLOR, BERKELEY. F there is going to be any war in Cuba count me and Spot in. Spot is my big dog and when I “sick” him on he is a terror to evil doers. That CHARLIE IS PULLED is what my papa says. I am 6 years old. I live in Berkeley aid have often seen the university boys parade. When they fire off their cannon, my! don’t it make a loud bang? I'can’t fire a can- non, or march very far, but I can ride a pony and carry an American flag and set Spot on the Spanish general. He'd be a brave man who wouldn’t be afraid of Spot when he is mad—Spot I mean! Then when the general runs away his men will run away, too, and then it will be easy to win the fight. Hurrah for Uncle Sam! THESE ARE THE QUESTIONS. Is the boys’ page or the girls’ page the better? Do the two pages show that there is any literary superiority in sex in children? The opinions of the judges will be “BUFFALO” WITH HIS WAR PAINT ON. printed in full. The request i{s here made that the-opinions may be briefly written on account of space. The com- petition has begun. Will the victory go to the boys or to the girls? UP AFTER A FALL "THE PERIL OF A MOUNTAIN. BY HOWARD BLACKMAR, BERKELEY. HARLIE and I were tramping in the Sierras two years ago. We were just out of the High School, and we thought that we were bir enough to look out for ourselves. We went up on the-cars to Inyo County and there unloaded our traps and started on foot with a pack mule to carry our tent and camp outfit and provisions over to Mount Whitney, which loomed up immensély in the dis- tance. Charlie knew a man-at Independence, and he agreed to be our guide just for friendshi sake. He had known Charl father and mine “Se,” he said, “it seemed as if he was to go along with his own, some way. Of course we were glad enough to have him with us, fo saw Mount Whitn get lost ther: beaten .trail: We never got to the top of Whitney. We went up the mountain some dis- tance and camped. The very night we made camp Bill disappeared. He left his gun and some oth longings. We followed down the trail some distance Two came to fresh when we really it seemed easy to notwithstanding the well the next morning to look for Bill. camp we miles from OVER THE PRECIPICE. tracks made by a bear. After going another mile down the mountain we saw blood. Then a little farther on were signs of a struggle. The bushes were broken and there were rags of cloth and tufts of hair. “Man and bear fight,” said Charlie. That was my idea of it. There was no difficulty in following the course of the battle. The bushes and gr: looked as if some he. bod or bodi had rolled down the steep grade. We followed on until we came to a high precipice. There was no doubt that something had fallen over here into a deep ravine below. A rag fluttered on a twig hanging over the precipice. The rag was brown, the color of Bill's hunting coat! And Bill? We looked at each other with dread. Had Bill fallen over the precipice? If not, where was he? Charlie was game all through. “I am going over the cliff and search for Bill!” That was all he said. We went back to the camp and got a rope. Charlie tied one end around his waist, and when he - had :d the rope around a tree I took hold of the other end. Charlie swung boldly off and dangled in midair, while I let out the rope slowly. Fifty feet or so down there was a shelf of rock. Charlie rested there an instant. Then he sent up a great shout: “Pull up, Ja for your life.” I pulled with all my might and none too soon. A bear ran ouk along the shelf of rock, and, half famished, tried to seize Charlie. My brave chum did not forget even then the use of a pis- tol. Hardly had he swung out pendu- lum fashion from the precipice wall when he had his pistol ready. Back he came on the swinging line toward the bear. It wi a beautiful sight. Charlie did not fire until he was close in, and when he pulled the trigger he had such good aim that the bullet pierced some vital part of the bear,and the monster fell into the canyon below with a final roar. I pulled Charlie. up. We were just shaking hands when we heard a voice: “Purty good stuff, you two; and I thought so from -the first. Just like your fathers.” It was Bill! “I wandered away last nicht” he said, “and fell in with a_wildcat, and we had‘a little brush, and I killed him and threw him over the bluff.” The next day we got a longer rope and I went down and found the bear that Charlie had shot. It was dead. Bill and Charlie pulled it up with a rope after a hard ~ tug; but Charlie strained himself and we did not make the big climb after all. ,llll.«lll..—-—.llllll T | | | Now, honest Injun! LITTLE BOW-LEG BOY. EUGENE FIELD. If ever the doctor-man comes my way With his: wonderful box in his two-wheel shay, I'll ask for the treasure I'd fain possess; j Can’t you guess? Why, a cute little boy— A funny little boy— A dear little bow-leg boy. 20 | T | E-i-E-8-0-N-EE-8-N 0 EEE0EE-EaEa