Newspaper Page Text
V " " ?,, --Tfi.-p-wi
, njrifi yiP7wyiyil
THE SOUL TRAPPER BY JAMES FRANCIS
(Copyright, 1914, by the Newspaper Enterprise Association.)
"But a white woman did come to
this spot," said the German natural
ist, stretching himself on the plaited
Dyak mat. "There is no place on the
earth where a man goes that a wo
man will not fellow if the necessity
arises, and for that I thank God. This
Sa'marahan river is as near hell as
you can go without making a hole
in the wall, yet a woman came here."
"Tell me," I said. i
Hockdorf, the greatest naturalist
in the Malay archipelago, who knew
more of the ways of animals than any
of the seventy collectors employed by
the big Amsterdam firm, spoke sooth
ingly to the little black monkey that
Vhined in the shadow.
"I will tell you first of the" man,"
said Hochdorf quietly. "We will call
him Hanslaw, that is as good a name
as any, and he came from Baltimore.
He had the bungalow on the other
side of the river, and after' he was
here some time we became great
friends. He was a fine naturalist,
none better. He loved his work, and
he would not stop from dawn till
" 'Hanslaw,' I would say, 'you are
a fool to work hke that You are just
what all you Americans are, just a
bundle of nerves, and if you go
pounding along like that, something
will stop all of a sudden in your head,
and you will go .up like a rocket on
the kaiser's birthday.'
" 'I've got to make good, Hoch
dorf,' he would say. 'I've got to make
good, and make good quick. Work, is
nothing if you have the right Incen
tive to work, and, by all that ishbly,
J have that incentive.'
" 'You are an old bachelor and you
do not understand,' he would say.
" 'Bachelors have done s6me big
things,' I (Would snap back at him.
" 'Perhaps so,' he would laugh, 'but
by the bones of the great Cuvier,
Hochdorf, it is- the man that the tto-
man is watching who has put the
marks of his knuckles on this old
"Then one day the thing that I
said came about. He snapped up.
Something in the back of his head
gave way hke a piece of elastic. He
was working, en the skeleton of a
simia wurmbii, the big orangutan,
and he laid down his knife quietly,
very, very quietly, and he went out
and started to play with the little
pebbles on the bank of the river. Gott
steh uns bei! It was so. It chilled
my blood. i
"What was I to do with a man in.
that condition in this little hell?
"For eight days he loafed around
the bungalow, doing no work and
talking kttle, -and in those eight days
something happened that was pecu
liar. It was more than peculiar. When
that little belt slipped off the flywheel
in his head, it made him lose con
nection with that, part of his brain
that had been built up through cen
turies of .civilization. Do you under
stand? "His braur- was like a bit of new
clay, 'and it picked up impressions
like a dry sponge sucks up water. He
flung off his clothes, tied a chawat
of bark cloth around his waist and
did things native fashion. He broke
up specimen cases to make fishtraps.
"On the eighth day Brechmann
came up the river because I had sent
him a message telling him what hadv
happened, and we neld a consultation
' " 'We should take him 4own to the
"coast,' said Brechmann. it' is bad to
let a white man run wifiT'with -the
j " 'Ya,' I said. 'If we could get him
up on a tramp steamer and get him
up to Singapore, his consul might
look after him.'
" 'Will we start now?' asked Brech
mann.. - .
J.-- ...-&.r iMt;Wfc& ifi