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The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, February 03, 1914, NOON EDITION, Image 14

Image and text provided by University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1914-02-03/ed-1/seq-14/

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turies-old fighting fashions of a band
of Solomon Island head .hunters.
BY CAPT. ROBERT QUINTON
A few of us were hunting along a
river in the Solomon Islands, when
the whole surrounding jungle sud
denly resounded with the yelling of
scores of savages. A shower of ar
rows hurtled over our heads. It was
worse than useless to attempt to es
cape to our boats, for the savages
could shock at us, under cover j)f the
trees, without exposing themselves.
We dropped down behind the bank,
just as a second volley of arrows sped
over our heads. The head-hunters,
thinking we had taken to our boats,
dashed forward and received a vol
ley of shots from our guns, which
brought down several and made the
others dart back into the bushes.
This was not because they were
afraid. It is their custom, when they
are losing, to xun away as though
they had given up the combat, but
this is only a ruse, for invariably they
will steal back, like a tiger stalking
its prey, .and make a new attack.
Knowing this, we stealthily hitched
a rope from ."tree' to- tree, about. 30
inches from the ' ground, directly in
front of our position.
For a few minutes everything was
deathly still. Then a third- series of
-o
wild yells smWnnly resounded upon
our right hand and so closo to us that
we were thunderstruck. As the sav
ages das'red forward the foremost
onea landed on their heads, over the
rope, And our crew cut them down
as they struggled to regain their feet.
I came in collisitfrj with one of the
savage beasts myself and he instant
ly aimed a blow crt me with his war
club. Ths helmet I wore helped to
break the blow. At about the same
instant he struck me I cut him across
the face with a cutlass and he never
struck anyone again, I can assure
you.
The head-hunters now retired as
rapidly as they had come. Four of
our crew were killed outright in the
skirmish and every one of us was
wounded more or less severely.
The strangest case of all was that,
of a Fijian who received a poisoned
arrow through the calf of his leg. '
The Jeg shriveled until all the muscle
disappeared and the skin appeared to
be drawn tight to the bone. He did
not complain of much pain, and the
leg, after a time, filled out again and
became as well as the other.
(Capt. Quinton's next adventure,
to be printed in this paper Wednes
day, concerns a marine battle with
cannibals.)
o-
THE CONFESSIONS OF A WIFE
A REAL WOMAN MARTYR
Chapter LXVIII.
I was very glad yesterday when
one of the women -in the hotel called
me up and asked if Dick and I were
to be home in the evening. I thought
it would tide things over a little if
we did not spend the evening alone,
as when Dick left me I knew fie was
angry with me and I thought perhaps
he might forget the subject of our
morning's talk.
When Dick and I differ I never
know if it is a good plan to refer to
the difference afterward or just let
the matter drop. I hate a "nagger,"
but Dick is rather inclined to emu
late his mother and sulk a little, and'
I am always trying to have matters
cleared up where we can begin anew.
I told Mrs. Smythe (I hate that
way of spelling Smith) that both Mr.
Waverly and I would be glad to see
her and her husband.
Dick was late getting home and
we had to eat our dinner in a hurry:
I told him Mollie had gone out and
that the Smythes were coming to
call on us. He did not say anything,
but I think he looked relieved. Up

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