The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, July 23, 1899, Page 28

oo THE FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, JULY 23, 1899. Ghe Rugged Men of the Grapsvaal on Their Jourpey to the (reat feast. o el OIS e . TENNA, July 6—Tt was the last of June, shall I ever forget that day! An aeronaut reads time by as- censions, not by the calendar. To me it was earlier, for, by a strange list of fatalities, I had not made an ascent this year. Once, when I was about to ascend a hurricane struck the mountaln on which I stood; agaln the Alps were buried In fog; three separate times my assistants falled me and I could not get gas generated; and so the spring passed away, until June, when all things peinted to a successful sail. My balloon on that day was my silk bag which is the largest of the three balloons I possess. It is very light and very strong. It is covered outside with a coating of varnish, lald on many times and recoated with wax; and finally cov- ered with a patented preparation to ren- der it perfectly alr-tight. The silk was woven specially for my balloon and to the best of my knowledge there was not a flaw in it. To be perfectly positive I hired a silk maker of Lyons to go over the entire surface of the silk with his 1ight and dark tests and he reported every fiber exact. In case of a leakage in a large air- filled bag ltke a balloon there is always serious danger. The break, however small, will quickly spread, and the alr rushing out will break a great rent in it before the balloon can be lowered. a rupture in the balloon means a fall for the aeronaut. And few have lived to describe a fall. On this day, accompanied by no one, I resolved to take a sall from a moun- tain and, having gone for the summer to | the Rhine country, I selected one of the small hills of the Pennine Alps as the best place for my sail. The day was clear, with a slightly up- ward current of wind coming from the west and blowing toward the north at a not very rapid rate, though there was a tendency toward a south wind which I did not like. It intercepted the west wind and created a whirlwind about a thousand feet above the earth in a way that might throw me out of my course. But I re- solved to go on just the same, trusting to my skill to steer the balloon and get above the Intercepting currents. With my balloon fully inflated and packed, if I may use the expression, with my assistants to awalit the signal, then | cut the ropes and let me ascend. Though I have made thousands of as- ents I never remember to have started How It Feels to Fall Jen Thou upward with the velocity of this one. It was positively bewildering. If I had been propelled from the mouth of a cannon pointed directly up into the air I could not have shot upward with half the speed or directness. In an instant I knew the truth. I had miscalculated the distance at which the westerly and southerly cur- rents intercepted each other, and I had voluntarily launched myself in a whirl- pool. Never mind! As long as the current bore me directly up all would be well. But how high would it carry me? On and on! Up and up I went! It was alarming though delightful. So rapld was my pace that the balloon could scarce keep .pace with .the car dangling underneath. The light little vehicle danced at its ropes as though it were a pleasure craft at its moorings upon the bay of Venice. Once or twice I felt the car suddenly shift, as though It were in a swirling cur- rent and were about to wheel rapldly around. But no, it always righted ftself. Its ropes, twisted for the moment, would straighten and a little tug at the basket would tell me that I was again being drawn along by the balloon. I remember measuring the wind then and taking my chart. The figures now show that I must have been at that mo- ment exactly 10,000 feet above the level of the sea. While I was setting down the figures and corgratulating myself that we were now in a smooth sea of alr, a strange thing happened—a wonderful thing. Up, as I was, above the reach of the cloud mists, there came a great loud | report, like a peal of thunder! 1 glanced upward; the sky was smiling; the great sun standing sentinel over a | pleasant day. The thunder eamse agaln, this time & long, rolling report like a | rumbling from heaven. At the same time I noticed that we were sinking. In an instant the truth became clear to me. The balloon had burst and we were falling to the earth. I say we, because the entire car becomes human to a bal- loonist, like a locomotive to its driver; or, to be more commonplace, a bicycle to its rider. I looked down involuntarily, which was | a foolish thing to do. We were descend- ing rapidly—so rapidly, {n fact, that as I looked I saw.a tall tower come in sight, next I saw another and another. We were dropping into a city. I afterward learned | that it was Vienna, but at that moment | I could only see the spire pointing straight | wind enough to last three days. I ordered | upward toward me as though it were | waiting to recelve us on its steel-tipped | point. 1 thought Instantly of throwing my bal- | last overboard—a desperate thing to do— ! | whisky down my throat. sand Feet By Signor Mirigi, the Italiap Aeronpaut. but T accomplished it. Relleved of its extra weight, the balloon rose slightly for a minute, then began to sink more rapidly than ever. I thought of my para- chute. It was at home. I thought of everything. But what can a man do when | a burst balloon is above him and he is dropping to earth in his basket? 1 looked down again. The steeple was taking form. Its ribbed sides showed tiny windows and through the top one I fan- cied I could see the bell. In my hand was still the pencil with which I had made my record, and, taking it between my fingers. in @ cold clutch I wrote the words, “I am dving happily. 1 have reached my term. Science triumphs.” There was time for no more. In the new horror of the situation— | taking on momentarily newer and more awful phases—I saw my end. There be- fore me etretched an open lake. To fall in it would mean death by drowning, for I could not hope to save myself with the ropes so twisted around me! The lake was still a little way off, but the car was heading for it. There was no alternative now. Though ready for death, I must escape if I could. We were low enough now to see the houses well, and I resolved as we were passing over the city to make a jump. It was my only hope. I cannot tell now why I did it, but I involuntarily reached in my pocket and stopped my watch. It had pointed to ex- actly 2 o'clock when I was taking my ob- servations at the time the balloon burst. What time it was now I could not tell, but to judge from my impressions we had been two hours in falling. Taking my hand off my watch I climbed to the edge of the basket and waited. On we sped, dropping into the city; now we were over a public square; people were beginning to look up at us. There was an open grass plat. Now would be the time to jump. Closing my eyes I gathered my legs in under me and made the leap. Next thing I knew 1 was lying on the grass, with people bending over me, and pouring A stinging sen- sation in my left arm and leg told me I was hurt. Well, next day, when I had recovered my senses enough to ask questions, they told me that I had landed on the grass plat and that my only injurles were a wrenched leg and a sprained arm. Small indeed for a man who falls 10,000 feet! On looking at my watch I found that I had been exactly two minutes in falllng, the enormous weight of the ballast before 1 threw it out having made y descent the swiftest on record. he Boer HEN the inhabitants of a lit-, tle free State like the Trans- | vaal take up arms the world | turns with a half laugh and | almost contemptuously asks: | | “Against whom, pray?” When it hears | that that State has no seaboard, no | fleet, and is almost entirely surrounded | | | | | that it is indeed no less than the mighty | empire against which the stout little | nation opposes itself, the distant world | | ner of men are these?” Possibly, as it by the outposts of a huge empire, in-| der, as the foreigner worked continu- terest is quickened, and when it learns | gusly, wonderingly inquires: “And what man-| anq make money. as j—le Is make his own shoes. His women dress and weave his own sheep’s wool, and make their and his clothes from it. During the day he works leisurely, content to make a living out of the ground. He has been seen sitting in his wagon for hours watching an enter- prising, hustling Uitlander with won- with all kinds of new-fangled machines, producing far more from the earth than his wants required, be- cause he wished to market the surplus | He has been seen thus shaking his head in pity, not un- | Jearns, it will be reminded of long Past | mingled with contempt, at such folly, | | generous interest in the same way. | 71t is a mistake to read of Paul Kruger | and take him and his surroundings poli- ticlans as types of the Boer. Also it is a mistake to take the dweller in the | towns as typical. To unearth the real | Transvaalian one must seek the wide | and solitary veldt, the hidden valleys, | the aistant hills, and there, on his farm, | draw him out and study him. Your | true Boer despises the town. He is es- | sentially an agriculturist and a hunter. | Up to 1892 he never saw a raflroad in | his country, and he was bitterly op- | posed to its coming. He argues that | the railrcad will drive away the game, | and without anything to shoot at life | will not be worth living. He is | extremely conservative, and with strangers brusque and taciturn, but if he finds you are harmless he can be | very hospitable. He does not drink | deep. He is religious with a gloomy, stern religion which makes him believe, | as did the Covenanters, as much in the |'Old Testament as in the New. _Like all | people whose belief in the Bible is of that uncompromising kind, he Is more or less superstitious. He Is moral. He does not believe in divorce laws. He marries early in life, and is convinced, | the highest blessing is an abundance of children. At the first hint of gray in the east- | ern sky, at the first crow of the cock, | and breakfast, with the usual strong coffee the Boer loves, is over by the | time the sun rises. The men are out | and about at once, looking after just | the same chores.as on an American | farm in the West, save those who are a springbok, a hartebeest or some | such species of deer. The women have plenty of work about the house. The | genuine old Boer farm furnishes itself | every necessary to its occupants. The | furniture is often made by the farmer, | or he has great, unwieldy, carved | chests and bureaus which have come | to him from his ancestors. He can the farm household is up and stirring, | | oft to replenish the larder by shooting | -| year, | days when Switzeriand, a child among | for the Boer i{s not a money-maker. | | strong men, and little Holland aroused | He does not want a Bauk account. So | he drives his slow-poving ox wagon | | away on the hot and dusty trek, medi- tating on the want of faith these Uit- | | landers have, who cannot trust the| | future to God and be content with to- | | day. | | He dines heartily at noon and sups | heartily at evening. His day hardly | differs from that of any farmer in [ | any country, only, if he sings at his | | work, it is likely to be a psalm that | l he sings. He smokes a great deal | while he goes about—a habit derived | | from his forebears in Holland. He is | fortunate in having no winter —no frost, no snow, only the dry season when his cattle suffer and the rainy season when the rivers and ponds are flooded. His house and barns are low and roomy—simply furnished as to the| house rooms. The great feather bed is usually the most noticeable feature, un- less, perhaps, he glories in a little har- | monium for his daughter to pick out hymn tunes of a Sunday. Just before the sun goes down, at a time vhich var- jes very little all the year around, the Boer calls his family together, and they have household prayers and pious sing- ing. No lights are needed, or if one is it is an old-fashioned lanthorn, or, more likely, a rush dip floating in a cup of | home-made tallow. Ere the daylight has fairly gone the farmer has bolted | the door and everybody is in bed. Three or four times a year he goes to | Nachtmaal, which is equivalent to the | Scotch “Fast day” or communion. In | the little market square of the nearest little burg there will stand a modest whitewashed building like a barn. This | is the church of the district, and here | at stated periods the farmers gather from all about. They don't take their | | tamilies to hotel, though some may stay | with friends, but drive the two or three | | days’ journey in the big white-can- | | vassed wagon, drawn by from twelve to sixteen fat, wide-horned oxen. They make camp near the town, in a meadow probably by the stream, and live in and under the wagon during the Nacht- maal, cooking for themselves the food they have brought along. The congre- gation gathers, during this time, day and evening. Their neighbors meet be- tween whiles and gossip and perhaps transact a little business. They would not belong to the human family if, of course, the lads and lassies did not walk and exchange vows. These are the great outings, the picnics, of the and small tradesmen and Jew peddlers are on hand with knickknacks and trumpery to sell to the yvoung folks, so that, cutside the services, the meet- ing is a kind of fair. Sometimes also there may be a wrestling match or jumping match between young men, in which all, old and young, will take a deep Interest. Although the Boer has proved that he can be longheaded and shrewd in political and other grave matters in some of the ordinary matters of life he is remarkably simple. There are many stories told of his unsophisticated ways. A prospector for gold found signs of it on a farmer’s land, and, after great effort, succeeded in buying the portion he desired. A check on a bank in Pre- toria was offered in payment, but the at Home. farmer had never been inside a bank and did not know what a check was. He would take nothing but gold, and €old, a considerable amount, was finally handed over to him. The ex- citement of the transaction over, and his bewilderment at possessing so much wealth past, the farmer began to fear what he had never had to trouble him- self about before—robbers. He slept on his money, and, as he could not take it out with him to his work, he either sat at home watching it with a gun, or else had one of his stal- wart sons do thesame. When occasion demanded that he should visit the town, he drove in with an armed son. and while one of the two did business in the market place, the other sat on | the box containing the treasure warn- ing off all comers. It was only after his pastor had reasoned with him for | months, and then with a great deal of doubt and nervous, cautious questions, that he was persuaded to put his for- tune in the Standard Bank. So the Boer farmer and hunter pur- sues his even way, as his people have ever done, and if (what he considers the accursed) gold had never been found in his land, he might so pursue it to the end of the chapter. It is to be feared, however, that forelgn capi- tal and railroads, and telegraphs and lightning-rod agents have broken up his idyllic life forever, or, rather, will soon do so. It was, is not, however, all peace. As the American backwoods- man was continually on his guard against Indians, so the Boer is ever ready to take the field against a Kaffir tribe or—the British. Then the plow and the hoe are lald aside and the rifle is cleaned carefully, but not now for a pleasant hunt after game. The call to arms is simple; mobilization is primitive. It amounts to little more than if Kruger, or Gen- eral Joubert, were to shout at the top of his volce, so that the whole country would hear him: “All hands on deck for action!” At the warery the pa- triots know they have been ‘‘com- mandeered.” There is no squabbling about volunteering, or enlisting, or drafting. Except the women, the very old and the very young, everybody | responds, even boys of 13 and 14—but the average Boer boy is a pretty stout and healthy kid, and has been taught to shoot since he was 10 or 11. Each | man takes his horse and his rifle and | proceeds to the rendezvous of the dis-| trict. The pastors are with them, and | with prayer and psalms the farmer- soldiers march out to defend thelr country. With all his ignorance .and unpro- gressiveness, it is difficult to contem- plate the scattering of such a people with mere philosophic serenity. P. Y. BLACK. Graphic Peecount of t Fearful e Experience of ap Apostle S RETTEIENTETTR <N