The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, September 25, 1898, Page 25

THE SA FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 25 1898. 25 O000000000 0GC000000C00N0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000° s of the whaling fleet ice-bound in the ancisco in March, 1897, she carried on When the Orca, one of the vess vicinity of Poi ¢, left San F her rolls the \gene Hubert Johns seama He has led ng clime; but the trip just te and his first visit to the Ar it will be his last Here is Able Seaman Johnson's Orca, and incidentally that of sever from the standpoint of the forecastle. VAILIMA, the home of Robert Louls Stey- enson, where the King fell sick. OME time during the month of March, 1897, T ncticed in one of the San Francisco papers that men were wanted for a ing sev As I had been ashor ral weeks, and conse- ed in the ey r a talk with the plausible hipped with Captain Sherman of 1 of us everybody sel, except s on the same pry Sometimes it is a payir it is just the opposite d by me each able ve one barrel of oil d and one pound of a similar number of pound out of two hundr bone from s. er, that ex- of it only in buying I was marched nt Levy's in charge y's officers, and was til I had spent hich my order For flg shirts which a sold for 90 cents I wa .d to pay $3, for a $3 oilsk rly $8 and ev was r flan re I hing else | to the Oreca, bay, and for the first rience 1 had an op- asured about every foot of d with whaling and supp waiting to be ved below I could see only dirt and ne from the forecastle to the taff- | us about three weeks to make | nes, and at the en d caught nearl Some of these We came from the he f them were use later in the s ¢ right here that afte we never saw_anything but the £ fish. The latter me yups and ved to us in the while the iies went to the : lay around Unalaska for several and then, toward the end of the Bering Sez On the fourth day search of whales. ir out 1 was sleeping soundly in my bunk when sudd ding, bumping noise aro ffy and sent me scurrying Just forward of our bow see, as far as the could reach, a vast field of broken into which the Orca was en- push her way. f this work Captain to make no further ugh. So for the -next drifted slowly with the »d a number of young se: ), the ice, and they made a very » dish when boiled with dum- Finally we )t clear of the ice and made for St. L Island, and traded with the for three or four They offered walrus t bone, 1d sk garments in exchang: for flour, tobacco, tinware, calico and , worth al- readily gun most nothing to the ship, we exchanged for bone worth $1000. Almost | every s one or two old d di on the trip to the yrth, and the natives snap them up fabulous pr This trading, I| should explain, is mostly carried on by The sea- captain and his officers. men have no capital on which to trade ex t are tobacco and an occasional coat or under-garment, but to the| ships' officers the trading is an impor- tant iture of their lay. 3 this we returned to the ice, and killed our first whale. Al- t was the smallest one taken the next few months, it 2000 pounds of bone and 100 of oil. A day or two later we took our second whale, and then we put in 1 Point, on the Russian e traded for furs, deer- and ivory for some time. ur trading stock was exhaust- ned to Port Clarence to take The company and ions and coal, supply at this point, Government rein station was maintained there. - we put to the northward again, time heading for Cape Smyth. has a at that time th *his We ched there about the 1st of Septem- All this time we were on the look- ut for whales, meeting with success 1t times, and by the middle of Sep- tember our captain felt justified in starting for Point Barrow, North- rn Alaska, a point that would mark the beginning of our journey home. At Point Barrow we found the whal- ers Jessie H. Freeman, the schooner Rosario, the Belvedere and the Alex- ander, and all of these reported fair catches. We remained here twelve days, amusing ourselves by ‘“gam- ming,” or exchanging visits from ship to ship, and then we spent three days in chopping, sawing and blasting our way through the ice to reach open water. It was very hard work, and we were well nigh worn out when we got through. Then we found that we had broken our rudder pintles in back- ing into the ice, as we were forced to do occasionally, and 8o we went tq ory of his al other vessels of the whaling fleet, went to the | \ The oil was va 20 cents a galion and the bon a pound, though My order ) advance was pay able twenty-four hours after we left . were busy from the | ght of the California us until we reached preparing the ling - lines ready for same time we| vatch and watch, in twenty miles of anchor in or- sh fish. put out three boats, each with | | | | | | COC000000000000N0000C0CO00000000000C0000TC0OOO00000000000000 WRECKED with the WHALERS IN NORTHERN ICE PACKS. By one of the survivors. Johnson. Although rated as an able wducated and of more than ordinary intelligence, for the p:.st ten years, and has sailed in almost 1nated was ¢ seas. his first experience on a He declares emphatically that | | | adventures on the wrecked l - e AR 000000000 were rescued by the Bear. When Dr. Call and Lieutenant Jarvis of the relief expedition sent by the Gov- ernment reached us, six months later, we were in a pitiable condition. We had slept, week in and week out, on the bare floor; the structure itself was poorly built and in no way excluded the bitter cold and nipping winds, and our | divided us into three classes, according | to our physical state. not been for him we would have starved to death. Dr. Call and Lieutenant Jarvis, as soon as they came among us, set to work to better our condition. They A third of us were removed to a school building, some were put in a place adjoining Brower’s store, while those who were in the best condition were made more comfortable in their old quarters. Bet- ter food and medical attention soon brought us around, so that when the rescuing Bear made fast to the ground ice off Cape Smyth, about August 1, we were fairly well prepared for a sea trip. As a result of my eighteen months in | the whaling business, working on a lay, 1 received about eight pounds of whale- bone. My shipmates were put ashore at Seattle, turned adrift, in fact, nearly all of them penniless and with nothing 000000000000000000000000000000000000000000C000000000000 BURIAL OF MALIETOA KING OF SAMOA. £00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000003 (4] (4] © (4] [+ (] (] o e AMOA, August 23, 1898.—In the large banqueting hall of desert- ed Vailima Samoa’s King lay a-dying. . More than two and a half years before another King had vielded up his breath within those | | moan’s walls; a king whose scepter was a pen, | SAMOANS BEARING THE BODY OF THE DYING KING FROM VAILIMA TO HIS HUT, THAT HE MIGHT PASS AWAY Cape Smyth, where we repaired them. | When we left this point all of us from the captain down were rejoicing at the prospect of returning to civiliza- tion. We little r dangers and hardships that Jf us. We had been ste along through the ice for two day sut much dif- | ficulty, the whalers we had found at Point Barrow nearly always i sight when early one morning our course was | checked. ~ The ice had thickened and | crowded ahead of us to such an extent that we could not budge a foot. We were caught in the ice v the next two hours t to realize that we c about nor steam ahe s of ice, in the meantime, were d against the hull of the Orca, 1g and shaking her from stem to Our situation became desper- floes. | Captain Sherman consulted for a mo- | ent with his officers, and then t , “All hands on deck to abandon ship!” was shouted in our ear; It had all come about so qui 1 was stunned. 1 had scarc thing to 1 , but it seemed a dreadful | thing to leave for good the stuffy little | forecastle, where we had made our | home for so many month And yet | we were fortunate to be able to find | a place of refuge aboard the other ves- s of the fleet which lay in the open water a few miles distant. We were permitted to take with us | only the clothing we had on our backs, and an extra coat and a blanket, and in less than an hour from the issuing of | the order we were on the ice. We made | our way carefully to the Belvedere and | the Freeman, and were divided up | equally among the two. Although the | of the els had but little vy made us welcome, s of the Freeman, to ned, gave us every- thing we needed in the way of cloth- ing. It turned out that Captain Sher- man was wise in abandoning the Orca. She was crushed in the next day and went down stern first. The Freeman and the Belvedere, as soon as the Orca di iew, steamed away Horse Island. | ifty knots the Freeman was caught in thin ice, and| although in my own opinion we might have made clear of it Captain Porter ordered his crew to abandon her. Then we all took to the Belvedere, | which had managed to keep in the open, and for three days we hung| about the Freeman, hoping that she would drift free. It has been charged that membenrs of | the Freeman’s crew set her afire as she | lay in the ice, but this is not true: A | Norwegian, whom we knew only as| Long John, told us afterward that he | had been sent over to her to get cer-| tain papers from the cabin. He said that in searching through the cabin he | had dropped a lighted lamn and that this started the fire that destroyed her. | This man, Long John, as we knew him, | was employed by Charles Brower, the trader, at Cape Smyth. A number of | these stories about burning the vessels and getting Insurance floated about all the time. After the burning of the Freeman her captain and the captains of the Orca and the Belvedere, all of them being quartered at the time on the latter ship, | sent a runner to Cape Smyth for dogs and sleds. Brower, the Cape Smyth trader, sent them at once, and ninety- two of us started off for his station. We were four days on the trip, and had nothing to eat during that period save a little hard bread and tea. But the prospect of again getting under shelter spurred us on, and we reached Cape Smyth in good health and fair spirits. Here we were put in a warehouse, scarcely large enough for a third of our number, and we never left it until we | subject. AMONG NATIVE food was of the coarsest kind and ex- ceedingly scant. For the first two months we were given a small bit of bread and a piece of tainted salt meat twice each day, al- | though this menu was added to by a little tea in the morning and coffee at night. Later on, when it was feared | that scurvy would break out among u we had beans, peas and boiled salt fis at infrequent intervals. This was all due to Brower, the trader. If it had! @ A NEW ® @ @ OR the past three weeks a real live Prince, and a wealthy one at that, has been in this city, and, strange to say, no Ameri- can beauty has flung herself and fortune at his feet in the vain hope of herself becoming a Prin- c . This, however, is accounted for by the fact that the identity of the Prince is not generally known. This Prince is by name Muly Ali Sidi Hmad Omossa, and is one of the clev- erest tumblers with the Tow-Zoon-In Arabs at the Orpheum. To tell his story, one must first in- troduce Hassan Ben Ali, who brought the Tow-Zoon-In Arabs all the way from far-off Arabia to San Francisco. This same Hassan Ben Ali brought to this country the first Arabian acrobats and gunspinners ever in America. That was years ago, and he has been in tnis sort of business ever since. Years ago he came to England as a boy on an English ship. In London he joined a troupe of acrobats and a few years later he struck out in the busi- ness for himself and toured both Eu- rope and America. He knew that he had seen acrobats in his native coun- try who could excel anything he had ever seen in BEurope or America. But how to get them permission to leave their homes in Arabia was the ques- % | tion that puzzled Hassan Ben Ali, but not for Jong, as he Is a resourceful fel- low. He hit upon an idea and started at once for Arabia. He traveled to the interior and call- ing the various chiefs around him he propounded this question to them: “These Christians keep sending their missionaries over here to convert us; why not give them a dose of their own medicine by sending a few missionaries over to America to convert its people to Mohammedism?" This phase of the missionary ques- tion had never dawned upon the fol- | lowers of the prophet and they asked time ‘to think it over. Next day the chiefs assembled in council and Hassan Ben All addressed them further on the It was the unanimous opin- fon that the Christians ought to be con- verted, and Hassan Ben Al was in- structed to pick out his missionaries. That was just the point he was work- ing for. He addressed the assembled chiefs and plausibly told them that when the Christians assembled for worship they always had some amusement to attract the people. The Christians attracted their congregations by singing and playing on musical instruments, and if they were to be attracted to Mo- hammedanism it would be throughsome novel entertainment. If the Christian © 6o PRINCE OFF ARABIA HAS. JUST COME TO TOWN. He draws lots of tribute in his own country and a big salary here. LR RO OB R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R OB RO R R R o R R R OR R OROR R CRORCRORCRORY SURROUNDINGS. in the world to show for the perils they had encountered except the threadbare and almost worthless clothing they | wore. What has become of them God | only knows. If they had been landed they were put ashore. But there were not more than eight or ten who had a dollar or anything of value to their name. As for myself I sold the bone here in San Francisco their chances for |1 had clung to so long for about $14 and | employment would not be so bad. | A few of the men, some of them who | had been whaling in the Arctic seas for | vears, had carefully preserved orders given them from time to time, and | these were enabled to cash them when ' @ would not listen to the gospel of his own religion unless some side enter- tainment was furnished, he certainly would not listen to the words of the prophet. The chiefs saw the force of the argument and told Hassan Ben Ali MUHLY ALl SIDI MAD OMOOSSA, PRINCE OF ARABIA AND CIRCUIT with the proceeds came to this city. So after eighteen months of work and peril I landed in the city with what I started—nothing. It was my first whaling trip. be my last. It will R R R R A R R R RO R R R OROROROROROLCS R R R R R R CRCROY to pick out his own missionaries. This was just what he had been leading up to, and he chose all acrobats. In Arabia a, young man practices acrobatic feats just for the fun of the thing and to amuse his neighbors. They whose charm subjugated all the Eng- lish-speaking globe. But he had owned another and a higher power than that of the pen, a transcendent gift of sym- pathy which overlept barriers of race and custom. Robert Louis Stevenson, the Sa- “Tusitala” par excellence, is the one white friend whom the natives feel to be closer than a brother; with their fervent, traditional belief In | spiritual presence, they hold that Ste- venson’s love is still with them in their hour of need. Thus it came that when King Malie- toa lay sick unto death his thoughts turned, not to his own race and kin, | but to the white man his people had 50 loved. Common report had often classed Stevenson with Malietoa’s ene- mies; his avowed sympathy for the ex- | iled Mataafa led to the suppositionthat he lacked sympathy for Mataafa's en- throned rival. Malletoa knew better, "knew that the white man sought only the good of the Samoan race when he deemed a chief who was no German puppet the best occupant of the throne. Tusitala loved Samoa and the Sa- moans with the strong love of the white man. Tusitala had passed into the Spirit Land; to him a Samoan’s thoughts must instinctively turn when the Spirit Land loomed near. ‘When the doctors pronounced science at fault and spoke of a change to mountain air as theone possible chance of cure, Malietoa smiled the sad, wist- ful smile which had become habitual to him. “Take me to Tusitala’s,” he said. In vain those of his own race offered hospitality, in vain the homes of high chiefs were placed at his serv- ice. “I would be with Tusitala,” he persisted feebly. “Take me to Vai- lima.” And to Vailima they bore him. For two days he lay on his mattress in that empty hall, evoking memories of the past. For two days he lay strug- gling with the fever while Tusitala's | tomb flung its shadow from the moun- tain top and Tusitala's spirit hovered near his Samoan brother. On the third day the fever gained strength, and the spirit of the white King of Letters beckoned to the spirit of the brown King of the Isles. Malietoa heard and closed his tired eyes. Life had dealt harshly with him; it would be sweet to pass out on his canoe to Tusitala. “Have you no wish to express; will you not name a successor?” tenderly asked Mr. Gurr, the natives’ advocat: and friend, the man who more than any had known the inner life of the Vailima household. Malietoa’s sad smile was his only answer. Why should he name a suc- cessor, thereby adding to the troubles of his beloved Samoa? He had suffi- ciently contributed to her dissensions while living; he would leave no legacy of strife. So through that long Sunday, the 24th of August, King Malietoa peace- fully lay a-dying where Stevenson nad died; his only sorrow the absence of his daughter in far Fiji. On the Monday, at dawn, medical skill gave out and the approaching end was announced. Then Malietoa’'s mourners arose and girded up their loins. It was well to seek dying com- mune in the shadow of Tusitala's tomb, but it were not well to die there. A Ffi/,,,w;\ ¥ 5’}“:2&1“{"‘.‘ i ] E3THE KiNg wAsS BuRIED. o0 [ (3 o o (24 [xd o o [} Samoan King must be gathered to his | fathers under his own Samoan -Toof, With wailing and lamentation they raised the dying monarch on his mat- tress and bore him along the “Road of the Grateful Hearts,” which commem- orates Tusitala’s good deeds; thence on to Apia and to the royal -suburb of Mulinuu. There they laid him, not in the wooden house built for him by for- eigners, but in his own thatched dwell« ing with its adjoining graves. And in the eventide Malietoa was gathered to his fathers. 5 For two days he lay in state, en= wrapped in native siapo and adorned with flowery wreath and cross contri- buted by ‘“papalangi” friends. For two days, while white politicians wrangled over questions of preced-nce and s cession, Malietoa’s native court laid its head in the dust, mourning and chant- ing, and enumerating in well turned. oration the virtues of the royal spirit which had passed over in its canoe. For two days Malietoa’s subjects and some who had not acknowledged his supremacy came on pilgrimage bearing their funeral gifts of fine mat and roll of siapo and green baskéts of fresh food. The funeral meats were baked and eaten, the watch fires were lighted, and the waterway was kept clear, lest the canoe of the dead should | pass to and fro. For the carele: footfall of the traveler, the sound of his paddle or his voice in laughter and song must not disturb the spirit seek- ing its long home. On the third day the white residents of Apia laid aside their differences and joined their brown brethren, honoring in death him to whom in life they h given scanty honor. Mulinuu. was thronged with visitors when the bear- ers came forward and carried their dead King from his thatched home to that other ndalwood house” which was to be his abiding place. By his own wish the dead was burled, not with his fathers, but at the extréme point of that Mulinuu, where he had | held his mock court, and thither his chiefs bore him with slow, cadenced step and averted head. Proud and stately, in their stiff kirtles of fine mat- | ting and their girdles of living green, the King's chief brother one of their number, they reckoned as blue-blooded | ancestry as him whose form they car- ried, not in the canoe of olden days, but in the somber box introduced by the white man. The white man’s box was lowered into a Samoan grave, lined with pieces | of white coral; wrappers of native | slapo, rich in texture, carefully de- signed and painted, concealed the for- eign coffin, while under and over it were piled the large fine mats, those precious heirlooms woven by the deft | fingers of dead Samoan women. Above were lald two of nature’s tombstones, enormous slabs of white coral, which completely hid the grave from view. Then with tears and sobs, with eroon- | Ing chant and beating of the breast, the mourners turned their faces home- ward and Malietoa, the white _man’s puppet, slept with the native honors which enshrouded his ancestors, Slept In his coral bed, with the blue waters of the coral-studded lagoon lap- ping his grave. But his spirit communed with that of Tusitala on the mountain top. ROSE DE BOHEME. Ax 1 A il e never think of performine their feats for money. Of course a few excel and are regarded with pride by the tribe. Each tribe usually has one young man who excels all the others, and Hassan Ben Ali requested the chief of each tribe to send his best acrobats. They did so and these so-called missionary acrobats formed the first tribe of Ara- bian acrobats brought to America. They were a novelty and took well. However, as they learned to speak English they discovered Hassan Ben Ali's ruse, and they made a vigorous Arabian protest for something more than board and clothes out of the $400 a week Hassan Ben Ali was being pald for them. A split among the troupe followed TUMBLER. and Hassan hastened home for more Arabs. He reported great progress in - the conversion of Christians and told of the great crowds that came to see the Mohammedan missionaries. He got another troupe and years later still an- other. Finally there came a day of reckoning and Hassan Ben Alli had to account to the chiefs of the Arabian tribes for his conduct. Now, considering his day and genera- tion, Hassan Ben Ali is as wise a man as ever came out of the East. "During all the years he had maintained a close friendship with Prince Ali, the favorite son of the great Mohammedan chief, Sidi Hmad Omossa, to whom all the tribes of Morocco and the Great Desert pay tribute. Every time he returned to his native land Hassan Ben.Ali car- ried in his train many useful-if not costly presents for Prince Ali. Field- glasses, Colt’s revolvers, a repeating rifle, a watch and trinkets for personal adornment were all of almost inestim- able value to Ali, prince of the desert. When the day of reckoning came Hassan Ben Alf’s stanchest friend was Prince Ali, and the inquisitive chiefs Wwere promptly told that if they dared to interfere with Hassan Ben Ali and his plans they would be made to pay double tribute to Sidi Hmad Omossa, and furthermore not a member. of any of the rebellious chiefs’ tribes could find shelter in any of 8idi Hmad Omossa’s Zaouias. This was the most feared of all, for Prince Ali’s father maintained twenty-six Zaouias along the edge of the Great Desert. These Zaoulas are resting places where a stranger may find shelter, food for himself and horse or camel and if necessary fresh horses or camels and guides if on a strange Journey. The Zaouias are maintained wholly by Sidi Hmad Omossa ocut of the tribute money paid him by the wander- ing tribes, and in turn he extends the hospitality of his Zaouias in time of need. He reserves the right, however, upon justifiable cause, to refuse admis- sion to any member of the tribe who may have offended him. It was about two years ago that Has- san Ben Ali made the star play of his life. He landed in New York with a fresh troupe of Arabs, all of whom he promptly hid somewhere in the city. A few days later a cab drove hur- riedly to the Fifth-avenue Hotel. A richly dressed and mysterious-looking Arab alighted. Another cab followed with a servant and no end of boxes and bundles. The Arabian potentate reg- istered a queer-looking name that no one to this day has been able to de- cipher. He selected an eler--t suite of rooms. At night his servant lay on a mat in front of his door like a big dog ‘watching his master. This mysterious Arab never appeared in public without his servant. His rich dress naturally attracted attention. Hig hands were covered with diamonds and rich jewels. Diamonds hung by gold chains from the four sides of his fez, a bejeweled cimetar showed itself from under the folds of his purple girdle. The reporters pursued him continuously, determined to learn his identity, but he rudely brushed them away. The rich Arabian would not conde- scend to hold conversation with any- Continued on Page Twenty-six,