The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, July 6, 1902, Page 6

THE SUNDAY CALL. ‘Wol > S\ AR WITH THE APACHES Copyright, 1802, by Robert Howard Russell. ‘ ‘ NDOUBTED,” observed the Old Cattleman, during one of our long excursive talks, *“‘on- bted, the ways an’ the mo- tives of Injuns is past the white out. He's shore a mystery, an’ where the paleface is of his s'lution is that the yere problem in cop- from the standp’int of the Can a dog understand a Which I should remark not! kely, ‘too, that with In- man in his turn is jest as man's findin’ per-color t to solve An’ without the Injua onusual fault with em, that's a of things whereof the savage paleface. The Western In- t—for I ain’t posted noneon the same bein’ happily the Western the bee, the weed they doo r to my time among Injuns the standin’ of imitates a savage— ms with idle an’ s into an’ r at im what he regyards travels s e t ne he in e he allows that ple, profound T tells him ot of Tharupon, abandonin’ of the table, he then declar's get the nom o-boat,’ observes this in- ‘s the paleface’s big ation. st of marvels,’” I says, your people when you the estral tribe retorts the savage, shakin’ his lock whips his vy decisive; ‘no; won't I demands. s, ‘they 1 heap le.’ what a example to trav- that ontootered savage! say thar be tralts no belicve. se'f, 'm shore born Injuns. I learns of ith relief, an’ full of life an’ cle fills me with 1 same, thar’s a load about the Injun. I was time to discuss these h Gen'ral Stanton, who ationed about in Arizona, the love he b’ars to fight- as chief of scouts for Gen- ‘comes more as the v a locoed marshal When Crook s vere is the idees of he gets old m to up Cochi * big prom- Ariz ts to Inculec Apaches, the chief the landmarks eaks the Gray Fox explains trle is Kkille at ¢ that sacred Ip collectin’ infor- d done characteristics of a F wi sk shove every tri k t his young the sands, down on Cochise an’ aches likea coyote on a sage hen em powerful hard to find, an’ after < bluff of the Gr Fox , allows won't call it. r shall be peace between the Apaches an’ the face to the north’ard of that line. Then the Gray Fox an’ Cochise shakes hands an’ says “How!” an’ Co- chise, with a bolt or two of red calico wherewith to embellish his Squaws,. goes squanderin® back to his people permeated to the toes with friendly intentions. ““Sech 1s hise’s reverence for his word, coupled with his fear of-the Gray Fox, that rs floats by an’ every defile an’ canyon of the Southwest is as safe 25 & church to the moccasins of the paleface. Thus it continues ontll thar comes g evenin’ when a jimcrow marshal with more six-shooters than hoss sense allows - Le’ll apprehend Cochise’'s brother for some venal offense that wasn't most like- ly deuce high in the category of troo crime. This edict offishul reaches for the relative of Cochise;.an’ as the latter— bein’ & savage an’ tharfore plumb afrald of ‘captivity—leaps back'ard like he's met up with a rattlesnake, the marshal puts his gun on him an’ plugs him so good he cashes in right thar. The marshal says later in explanation of his game that Co- chise’s brother turns hostile an’ drops his band on his knife. Most likely he does; a gent’s hands—even a Apache’s—has done got to be some’ers all the time. * “But the killin’ overturns the peaceful programmes buiit up between the Gray Fox an’ Cochise,. When the old chief hears of his brother bein' downed, he paints himse’f black an’ red an’ sends a bundle of arrers tled with a rattlesnake skin to the Gray Fox with a message to put the number of palefaces who loses their ha'r as the direct result of that fool marshal layin' for Cochise’s brother an’ that Injun’s consequent cuttin’ off at a round ten thousand. Shore, thar’s scores an’ scores who gets stood up an’ killed in the hills whereof we never gets a whis- per. I, myse'f, in goin’ through the tee- pees of a Apache outflt, after we done wipes ’em off the footstool, sces the long h'ar of seven white women who couldn’t have been dead no time. Who were they? Folks onknowin’ who's got shot into while romancin’ along among the hills with schemes no doubt of settlement in Californy. g “‘With what we know of the crooelties of the Apaches, thar's likewise sperit of what book sharps calls chivalry goes with ‘em, an’ albeit on -one ha'r-hung o’casion I profits mightily tharby, I'm onable to give it a reason. You wouldn’t “HIS ARM GOES BACK FOR A MIGHTY CAST OF THE LANCE, THE WEEPON VIBRANT WITH THE VERY SPERIT OF HATE.” double his gyards an’ look out for him- se'f. The Gray Fox, who realizes that the day of peace has ended an’ the sun gone down to rise on a mornin’ of trouble, fills the rattlesnake skin with cartridges an’ sends 'em back with a word to Ce- chise to turn hims’ef loose. From that moment the war-jig which is to last for years 1s on. After Cochise come Geron- imo, an’ after Geronimo comes Nana; an’ one an’ all, they adds a heap of spice to life in Arizona. It's mo exaggeration to track up onw any sim’lar weaknesses among the palefaces, an’ you all can put down a stack on that. “‘It's when I'm paymaster,’ says the Gen'ral, reachin’ for the canteen, ‘an’ I starts forth from Fort Apache on a ex- pedition to pay off the nearby troops. T've got six wagons an’ a escort of twen- ty men. For myse'f, at the r'ar of the procession, I journeys proudly in a am- b'lance. Our first camp is goin’ to be on top of the mesa out a handful of miles from the fort. “ ‘The word goes along the line to ob- serve a heap of, caution an’ not straggle or go rummagin’ about permiscus, for the mountains is allve with hostiles. It's five for one that a frownin' cloud of 'em is hangin’ on our flanks from the moment We breaks into the foothills. Np, they'd be a-foot; the Apaches ain't hoss-back Injuns an’ are only fond of steeds as food. He never rides on a corral full of ponies if you'll furnish ‘em an’ lick onme, a Apache don’t, but he'll camp down an’ eat up his lips in thankfulness tharfore. But bein' afoot wont hinder ‘em from keepin’ up with my caravan;’for in the mountains the sndw is to the wagon beds, an’ the best we can do is to wiggle along the trail like a hurt snake at a gait which wouldn’t tire a papoose. “ ‘We've been pushin’ on our windin’, uphill way for mighty likely half a day, and I'm beginnin’—so dooms slow is our progress—to despair getting out on top of the mesa before dark, when to put PHOTOGRAPHIC POINTERS FOR AMATEURS T is now reported on unquestionable authority that the photographs sub- mitted by Edward Steichen to the Parts Salon will not be hung in the forthcoming exhibition. While Mr. Steichen's success in having his pictures accepted by the jury of ertists is none the less a success for photography, the action of the hanging committee in refusing to hang them is a distinct disappointment to all who have the true interests of pic- torial photography at heart and who had counted upon seeing it represented at the Paris Salon this year, for the first time, Specialization in photography is one of the best methods for advancing in provi- clency and may be put in practice by the novice to good or better advantage now photographing a land- scape, then o marine, next & portrait, and then something else, covering the whole gamut of photographic possibilities in a dozen or more consecutive exposures, is the dabbler, who will remain a novice as long as he continues to use the camera. That will probably not be for many years, as failing to learn thoroughly and to ap- preciate the magnificent possibilities in any one field, he will shortly become blase and will drop photography for some new fad. There is hardly a prominent ama- teur in the field to-day who has not real- ized this fact and devoted his energles almost wholly to one or another special line of work and all that has been achieved up to this time has been due to the earnest and intelligent efforts of men and women who, having started as the merest amateurs, have seen.the pos- ities before them and have developed along the lines which most Tered them the greatest As a means of putting this advice into execution let the beginner take, for exam- ple, suck a subject as botany, natural history, architecture or landscape com- position, and having selected that which is most congenial, let him secure a handbook on the subject and get to work with the idea of fllustrating it with his own ple- tures. Progress will, of course, be slow, but the educational value will be very great and he will in this way obtain a knowledge of the general subject, in ad- dition to-the technical knowledge of the picture making, that would hardly be pos- sible In any other manner. To the many who prefer printing-out paper to the newer .gaslight developing papers, the long hours of daylight at this season, of the year are especlally welcome. Too much attention, however, cannot be paid to the thorough washing of the after toning and fix: trace of ‘hypo remains in the paper its destructive effects will be apparent long before winter comes, and work upon which time and effort have been expended will have been spoiled. - Both gelatine and collodion papers require very compiete washing and if bitter disappointment would be avolded they should be handled about, separated and rinsed as often as ten or a dozen times during at least an hour of washing in running water. If washed in trays the water should be changed as many as fifteen times or more and the prints separated with eacq1 change —when washing in this way it is better to use two trays and to throw the prints from one wray to another of fresh water, handling each print separately and re- peating the operation as cach tray is emmptied. A little extra care in washing often means the difference between a print that is permanent and one that shortly turns to a dirty yellow color, for which there is no remedy. ‘With correct exposure and development 2 negative does not require intensification, but in cases where the negative {s weak from extreme exposure or improper de- velopment Scolik’s method of intensifica- tion is simple and permanent. The nega- tive to be strengthened must first be thor- oughly washed to. free i. from all trace of hypo and then immersed in Mercury bichlbride. Potassium bromide. 1 part Water ....... % .50 parts where it is left until the film is thoroughly and evenly white, after which it is rinsed and immersed in a mixture of equal parts of saturated solution of sodium sulphite and water and left until the white has entirely left the plate and the film is uni- formly dark brown or black. It should thel;lbe thoroughly washed and dried as usual. 1 part a coat on the gin'ral trouble, the lead wagon breaks down. I turns out in the sncw with the rest, an we-all puts in 2 heated an’ mighty profane half-hour Testorin' the wagon to health. At last we're onder headway ag'in, an’ I wades back through the snow to my amb’lance. “ ‘As I arrives at the r'ar of my offishul ‘wagon, it occurs to me I'll fill a pipe an’ smoke some by virchoo of my nerves, the same bein’ a trifie torn an’ frayed with the many exasperations of the day, I gives my driver the word to wait a bit, an’ searchin’ forth my tobacco outfit, loads an’ lights my pipe. I'm planted walst deep in the mountain snows, but havin’ on hossman boots, the snow ain't no hardship. * ‘While I'm fussin’ with my pipe, the six wagons an’ my twenty men curves ‘round a bend in the, trail an’ is hid by a corner of the canyon. I reflects at the time—though I ain’t really expectin’ no perils—that I'd better catch up with my escort if it's only to set the troops a ex- ample. As I exhales my first puff of smoke and is on the verge of tellin’ my driver to pull out—this yere muleskinner i3 settin’ so that matters to the rar Is cut off from his gaze by the canvas cover of my wagon—a slight noise attracks me, an’ castin’ my eye along the trail we've been climbin’ I notes a full dozen Apaches comin’. An’ it ain’t no hyperbole to say they’re shore comin’ all spraddled out. “ ‘In the lead an’ for all the deep snow racin’ up on me like the wind Is a big, be- feathered buck, painted to the eyes; an’ on his right fist, raised to hurl it, is a 12-foot lance. In a moment, I realizes how he'pless, utter, I be, an’ with what ca’mness I may adjusts my mind to the fact that I've come to the end of my trail. He'pless? Shore! I'm stuck as deep in the snow as one of the pines about me; my guns are in the wagon outen immed!- ate reach; thar I stands as certain a prey to that Apache with the lance as he's likely to go up ag’inst doorin’ the whole campaign.- Why, I'm a pick-up. I re- members my wife an’ babies, an’ sort o’ says “Goodby!” to ’em, for I'm as shore of my finish as I am of the hills an’ the snows beneath my feet. However, since it's all I can do, I continyoos to smoke an’ watch my execootioners come on. *“ ‘The big lance Injun, it looks the. dominatin’ sperit of the bunch. draws up to me—he’s fifty foot in advance of the others—he makes his lance shiver from p'int to butt. It fairly sings a death sceg! * ‘As I gazes, I can feel it go through an’ through me a score of times; but I stands thar facin’ him, for, nacheraily, I wants it to go through from the front. I don’t propose to be picked up later with arything so onfashionable as a lance wermed in my back. That would be on- professionable! *“‘You onderstands that what now re- cuires minutes in the recital don’t cover seconds as a play. The lance Injun runs up to within a rod of me an’ halts. His arm goes back for a mighty cast of the S lance, the wecpon vibrant with the very sperit of hate an’ malice. His eyes. through a fringé of ha'r that has fallen over 'em, glows out like a cat's eyes”in the dark. We stands thar—I still puffin’ my pipe, he with his lance raised-an' we look on each other—I an’ that paint- daubed buck! I can’t say whatever is his rotion of me, but on my side I never be- holds a savage who appeals to me as a more disgustin’ picture! “‘As I looks him over a change takes place. The fire in his eyes digs out, his face relaxes f'rocity an’ after sfandin’ for a moment an’ as the balahce of the band arrives, he turns the lange ovdr his arm an’ with the butt presented surfenders it into my hand. You can gamble I don't lose no time in arguin’ the question, but accepts the lance with all thag it implies. Bringin’ the weepon to a “right shoulder™ an’ with my mind relieved, I gives the word to my mule-skinner—who’s oncon- scious of the transactions in Wfe an’ death goin’ on behind his back—an’ with ‘that, we-all takes up our march an’,soon gomes up on the.escort where it's.ag'in fixed firm in the snow about a furlong jto the fore. My savages follows with me, an’ each of 'em as grave as squinch owls an’ tame as tabby cats. 4 *‘Joke? No; them Apaches was as hos- tile as Gila monsters. But behojdin’ me, as they regyards it—for they %on't In their ontaught simplicity make dllowance for me bein’ fmplanted in the show:,, gun- less an’ he'pless—so plumb’ ‘brave, awaitin' destruction without a quiver, their admiration mounts to #éch heights it drowns within 'em every thought of cancelin’ me with that lande, an’ thar- upen they pays me their savage compll- ments in manner an' form described. They don’t regyard themse’fs as -sur- renderin’, neither; they esteems passin’ me the lance as inauguratin’ a armstice an’ looks upon themse'fs as guests nder my safegyard, free to say vamos back to the war- path ag’in whenever the sperit of blood begins to stir within their breasts: I saveys enough of their ways to be post- ed as to what they expects; an’ bein’, 1 hope, a gent of honor, I accedes to "em t exact status which they belleves y enjoys. ‘They travels with me that day, eats with me that evenin’ when we makes our comp, has a drink with me all around, gs savage hymns to me throughout the night, loads up with my chuck In the mornin’, offers me no end of flattery as a dead game gent whom they respect, says adios; an’ then they scatters like a flock o’ quail. Also, havin' resoomed business on old time lines, they takes divers shots at us with their Winchesters doerin’ the next two days, an’ kills a hoss an’ creases my sergeant. Why don’t I corral an’ hold 'em captive when they're in my clutch? It would have been break- in’ that tacit trooce as Injuns an’ I understands sech things; moreover, they let me go free without conditions when I was a loser by every roole of the game. " AN EASY LESSON IN WHIST. BY MRS, E. P. SCHELL. NE of the questions which is prob- ably asked most often in whist by the student is, Is it permissible to fead n “singleton”? To answer this question Intelligently is truly most difficult. Who of us s there that has not been tempted at some time t5 digress from rule and lead a ‘“single- ton”? If it works we pat ourselves on the back and say “well done” when it fails (which it does more often than not) and our partner proceeds at once to draw the trumps, and with a look of satisfaction sends back a strengthening card of our supposed suit (much to our mutual discomfiture), and our opponents make their sult, no words can express our humility, and in self-satisfaction we say “You might have known it was a “sin- sleton,” and that I wanted to make my small trumps.” It is certainly true that the single card lead is “tabooed” on all sides by the long-sulter, and a great deal has been both said and written by whist- players and writers upon the subject of leading singletons. Of course the long sult authorities condemn the play, as- suming that a partner will lead trumps and after exhausting them will return the lead, imagining it from your strong suit. Strange to say, nothing has been written to prove that the lead of the “singleton” fitself is a losing play, but that the losses which occur are partner’s mistakes, in assuming that the lead was from strength, and thereupon drawing the trumps. Here is what some of the great authorities have to say upon the subject. James Clay sa “Partner never knows what to expect, and prob- ably being strong in trumps, and re- turns which he has reason to believe te be his partner’s suit, and finds him with none of it. Or it may be, suspecting a singleton, when it Is really a long suit, he does not play the trump, when he otherwise would have done so.” Cav- endish says: “Your partner, if strong in trumps, will very likely draw yours and then return your lead, imagining you lead from strength. If indeed he Is a very shrewd player he will, after being taken in once or twice, accommodate his game to yours, but he will never Pe sure of the character of your lead.” Pem- bridge says: “Never lead a singleton unless you are strong enough in trumps to defeat any attempt, either of your ad- yersarles or your partner, to get them sut, in which case it might be as well to jead them yourself.” Dr. Pole, the father of the long-suit theory, admits that the choice between the ruffing game and the long-sult game is not very clear, and it is by no means easy to prove which of them, it pursued systematically, would, in the long run, prove most advantageous. But he decides that the long-sult system adapts Iitself more favorably and conveniently to the combination of the hands, because it would not always happen that your hand contained ‘a singleton. You might have 'none, or two or three of the suits; hence there would be no uniformity to your opening. It would be equivocal and would consequently give your partner no inform- ation.— Mathews says: “As I have ven- tured to recommend occasional deviation from what is considered one of the most classic maxims, that is, leading™ from single cards without that strength in trumps hitherto judged indispensably necessary to justify it, I give the reasons that influence my opinion in favor of this practice, with these generally alleged against it, leaving the reader to deter- mine between them. Two objections are made which it cannot be ‘denied may and do happen. The first, that if your part- ner has the king of the suit guarded and the ace behind it he loses it, which would not be the case if the lead came from i the adversary. The second and the most material is that your partner, {f he wins the trick, may lead out trumps, on the supposition it {s your strong suit, or the | advers: -des, from suspecting your inten- tions. “‘On thw contrary, constant and certain advantages are the preservation of the tenace in the other two suits, which I suppose you have, and the probable one of making your small trumps, which you would not otherwise do.” He also recommends, “Do not lead from a single card unless you are very strong in trumps, and occasionally may be led with great though not certain advantage.™ After summing it up, the great danger of the singleton lead seems to be from partners misuaderstanding it, and their leads. disability of detecting - short-suit Care should be taken that the s leac_should be a good supporti or if the card is small enough taken for a regular lead, you should be well protected by a strong trump suit, so you may be prepared for either a return of the suit or a trump lead. With at least three or four cards in of the plain suits, headed by a or single honors, a singleton trump will usually be the best lead, forcing your opponents to open your suits. After all, you had better let the op- ponents open your single-card suit, as they are usuaily on the alert to profit by your confessed weakness. A whist hand by Cavendish: NORTH. 8. Q,J,5 2 42 e EAST. S—-K, 10,9 4 H—Q, 7,842 A in West's E. Three of spades trumps band. Tk. W N is Ks Wh t and West, 6. his suit to be cussion. I think It s of the ace of his p: throws the lead. w ing two trump sumed that Eas no more clubs, he would have led the trump at trick 3, instcad of ace of ciul Trick 5—North is in d be borne in mind that he does not see the other hands. He cannot tell that West has all the remaining clubs; indeed, the great probability nst this. a reasonable assumption king of clubs will force and leave North/with a long elub, whie he will eventually bring in. North's al- ternative Is to open one of his short suits at.-random. This can hardly be recome mended. On the whole, while recognizing the awkwardness of the situation, I am In favor of the lead actually made. It has been sugfested that East should not ac- cept the force. I think he does enough about the remaining cards to do better than trump and open his strong suit. South’s discard shows his suit to be hearts. not show number, as It may be as- Teultles. It should that the lead of the best trum Trick 6—East does he does not wish the stro sary count his hand. s other heart, gets rid oh of the diamond with th has decl earts to be his suit, should set Soutlhngx 1;‘hlnk- ing. He should note that Ninth I3 aves, ing the lead and a subsequent trick. and should therefore pl: i Norti's boesy place losing clubs in Trick 8—South does not want the lead, - as he would have to o tenace. Trick 9—North mu-tpmn:t m:{_\:;p this trick. He can count that if he does he !fel:p'l 'hr"bt"cl::d?n clubs. If un- lays hy ng jack South covers with the‘qjueen.qlrl‘ll:’:whn. ;.em;.lnyu r"edl:d !hee&ltu;llon, and knows e must make an Preven from obtaining the le:: i 5 N