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THE SOUL TRAPPER BY JAMES FRANCIS
DWYER
(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
Samarahan 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.
Hockdorf, the greatest naturalist
in the Malay archipelago, who knew
more of the ways of animals than any
oi tne seventy collectors empioyea Dy
the big Amsterdam firm spoke sooth
ingly tothe little black monkey that
whined inthe shadow.
"I willvtell you first of the man,"
said Hochdorf quietly. "We will call
him Hanslawthat 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 lie was
here some time we became great
friends. He was a fine naturalist,
none better. !He loved Tils work, and
he would not' stop from dawn till
midnight.
" 'Hanslaw I would say, 'you are
a fool to work like 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 2 sudden in your head,
''and you will go up like a rocket on
the kaiser's birthday.'
" Tve got to make good, Hoch
dorf,' he would say. 'I've got to make
good, and make good quick. Work isf
nothing if. you have the right incen
tive f o work, and, hy 'all that is holy,
I have that incentive.' '
" Tou are-an old bachelor and you
do not understand hefwbuld say.
"'Bachelors -have done some big
things,' T would snap back at him.
" 'Perhaps so,' he would laugh, 'but
," bones of the great Cuvier,
2 F, it is -the man that the wo-
lman is watching who has put the
marks of his knuckles on this aldi
mud ball.'
"Then one day the thing that I
said came about He snapped up.
Something in the back of his head
gave way like a piece of elastic. He
was working on the skeleton of a
simia wurmbli, 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 nyer. Gott
steh uns bei! It was so. It chilled
my blood.
"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 little, and in those eight, days
something happened that was pecu.
liar. Itrwas more than peculiar. When
that little belt slipped of 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 brain 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 1
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 had
happened, and we held a consultation
about Hanslaw, ,
" 'We should take him down to the
coast,' said, Brechmann. ''It-is bad to
J let a white man run wild with the
niggers.' -
t '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 now2' asked Brech
.3
ca
5
mann.
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