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4 ^ .. - - - - ~ ISSUED SEMI-WEEKLY l. m. qrist's sous. Pi.bu.her., ] % ^amilj feirspper: <Jfor the promotion of (he political,Social. Agricultural and (Commercial Interests o( the people. { tkr,?^copVfiAvRkeJ?VA!,CB' ESTABLISHED 185IL -- - YORKV1L1.K, H. C., FRIDAY, NOVEMliKlt 2S), 11)07. NO. 06. . i phi ltjc: By ETTA A CHAPTER V. The Island Lady. 4 Months and years glided on. Philip Hawkstone's murder faded gradually from the minds of men. His widow remained on the island, and governed the people like a queen. The islanders began by distrusting and disliking her; they ended by giving her unqualified love and respect. Did sorrow, sickness or poverty enter their homes, the island lady, as she was called, was swift to follow after, with a heart full of sympathy, and a hand freighted with relief. She ruled them with kindness and gentleness. Patiently, persistently. she won her way into their confidence and esteem. Harris, the overtvhn had at the time of Philip Hawkstone's death, regarded the fair Creole with open suspicion, soon became her firm friend, her faithful, zealous adherent. She superintended all the work done on the island: built houses, introduced new Inventions, and cultivated the acquaintance of every man, woman and child among her ten^ ants; but she saw no strangers, recelved no visitors, and rarely crossed to the mainland. A pale. Impressive lady, always gentle, but never joyous, dressed Invariably In black, and with streaks of premature gray in her lovely hair?a lady whose manner compelled deference and attention, and who moved among her dependents with the grace of a born sovereign: yet all the - while Jetta Hawkstone carried In her heart a silent sorrow, like the fox which gnawed the vitals of the Spartan lad In olden story. "She has made a conquest of every soul on the Island." Harris was wont y to sigh; "she Is rich and powerful and ?the most unhappy creature in the world!" To that wild, strong-fisted gypsy. Peg Patton, Philip Hawkstone's widowwas particularly kind. The girl lived with a blind grandmother in a tumbledown old house at the head of a lonesome, wooded Inlet. Immediately after the tragedy Mrs. Hawkstone sent ? workmen to repair the house, and it soon became known that she had taken the inmates under her own care, and was supporting them in every comfort. The girl Peg came often to the hall, ? and held long Interviews with the island lady to which no third party was ever admitted. The islanders discovered that Mrs. Hawkstone went sometimes unattended to the lonely Inlet house, and they saw that all animosity was over betwixt Hawkstone's jilted sweetheart and the fair woman he had married. Indeed, If there was one person above afl others who, from first hating Jetta Hawkstone, had now come to regard her with devoted affection, that person was Peg Patton. To little Basil, the heir of the island, Jetta Hawkstone was mother, father, comrade, and teacher, all in one. Heart and soul, this woman, young and beautiful Hevnteri herself to the boy. and in return Basil adored his fair stepmother. A dashing, brilliant fellow he was, yellow-haired and symmetrical as a young Greek, hot-hearted, hightempered too, with mighty ideas of his own importance, and so haughty withal that he was early called "Prince Lucifer" by his envious cousin Vincent, ^ who represented a younger branch of the family. "My darling." said Jetta Hawkstonc to her son, "you are the owner of this island, you are rich, you bear an old and honorable name, you hold great possibilities for good or evil in your hands; team first to control yourself, and then you can be trusted to rule others. You were born a gentleman: act like one everywhere, and under all circumstances." The best tutors that money could procure came to the island to teach the ML lad, for she would not be parted from him. She became the guardian of his orinmtinn as wpll as of his lordlv little | person. The boy never spoke of his father, and seemed not to remember him. Time went on. The day of tutors passed. Basil Hawkstone entered college. The young island sovereign went out from his small domain to conquer new worlds. "Trust me. mamma." he said. "I will remember that I am a Hawkstone. I will win all the honors I can, for your sake." And he kept his word. He was the most brilliant scholar of his class, and during his college course was the same * domineering, all-conquering "Prince Lucifer" that he had been on his little island. He graduated in a blaze of glory, and a few weeks later sailed for Europe, to see the world and enjoy - - - r.f 1116 lor H WUMMi, iiiirr nir ia111u11 w* his kind. In the drawing-room at Tempest Hall mother and son parted. Jetta Hawkstone had aged greatly of late. Her abundant hair was now as white as snow. "You will not remain long abroad. & Basil?" she said, wistfully, to the splendid, stalwart fellow who was gazing at her so fondly from a pair of iron-gray eyes, set under level black brows. He was all strength and grace ^ and beauty, far handsomer than Phil f ip Hawkstone had ever been, and with none of the melancholy Charles Stuart look of his father. "I shall be gone but a year, mamma." he answered; "twelve short months." "Basil, have I been a good mother to you?" she asked, with her hands on his broad shoulders. ^ "The best in the world!" he answer* ed. "My beautiful boy! some day you will bring a wife to Tempest Hall to take my place. Basil, oh Basil!"?and a convulsive shudder shook her from head to foot?"God grant that the family doom may not overtake you! A presentiment of evil is upon me today. Choose carefully, choose wisely. Basil! You, a Hawkstone, ought to marry the noblest in the land." c V . PIERCE. I i^HHHHBHBHHBHHBlMI a "I promise to stoop to nothing less a than a princess, mother," he laughed, t gayly. "I trust it will be many a day c before anybody takes your place?in s fact, no living woman can take your 8 place on the Tempest. Be not alarmed; I know nothing of love, care nothing for it," tossing back his brown locks. "I am too much of a despot by r nature to submit to Its control. I shall ft return to you even as I go?unscathed, n heart-whole," and then he added. a with bold arrogance: "There are few a women in the world fit to be the wife a of a Hawkstone." e "The doom of the family is unhappy i 1 # V,?t Po all *>* r IIian mKC, UU )UU niiun mm, , v "I have heard some rubbish of the tl sort" ? loftily ? "but superstition in \ these days is vulgar?quite unworthy n of us, you know! You may be sure that the family doom, as you call it. will never overtake me." s, So he went, in his splendid, boastful tl strength, and Jetta Hawkstone was |t left alone at Tempest Island. A year passed, but Basil did not return. He had attained his majority g, now. and was his own master, accountable neither to his stepmother nor i any other. cl His letters were frequent and tender, y but evasive. He made no apologies nor explanations, and frankly declared that tl she need not look for him for another tt twelve-month at least. He seemed f< fascinated with European life, and he was spending money with a lavish t-< hand. ai Th'e second year went by like the first, but Basil Hawkstone did not js come. His mother waited anxiously. S) With the unerring instinct of love she s| felt that something was wrong. "What the deuce can Prince Lucifer (j. be doing over there in London and Paris?" sneered young Vincent Hawk- m stone, who had come down to the is- q land to spend a vacation. The boy a. was poor and kinless save for Basil. w He hated this elder and more fortunate r Hawkstone with his whole heart, and did not scruple to express these senti- js ments when occasion offered. "You tc may be sure he's up to mischief, my ft dear aunt. Basil is sly, deuced sly, for ^ all you think such a paragon. I hope e, to goodness he'll have the decency to send me abroad when I am done with school. We two are the last of the tt Hawkstones. He is rich, I am a beg- n] gar. He ought, in common justice, to p; divide the family shekels with me." [ She looked at him in cold anger. V( "Vincent, I forbid you ever again, in rr my presence, to speak like that of ni your cousin! Your insinuations are unworthy, unjust. He can do no h< wrong?I trust him implicity. In- ai grateful boy! you forget that you al- h ready owe him everything. Your fath- J< er was a prodigal, who spent his substance in riotous living. He left you si friendless and penniless. For years tl Basil has provided for you liberally, w You are living now upon nis Doumy. 01 Vincent, I fear a day will come when 01 you, like the serpent warmed in a gen- tl [ erous bosom, will repay your cousin s< I with some deadly sting." Is "I hate Basil!" answered Vincent, si with boyish bluntness. "I hate his high P and mighty airs; I will sting him if I H ever get the chance, see if I don't!" ?] One fateful day a letter came to Jet- Ji ta Hawkstone from the far south. The rr signature at the bottom of the sheet k was Gabriel Ravenal. She read it with blanching lips, then started up from the dinner-table where she was sitting it with the boy Vincent, and rang for a r< servant to fetch Harris, the overseer, o The latter came, an old man now, be- E ginning to stoop with the weight of a years. fj "I am called away in haste, Harris," la said the lady of the island. "Take care tj of everything here, Vincent included, ti till I return." fj ' Yes, madam," said Harris. ti "I cannot tell how long I may be ti absent, so you must keep the island, ti and especially the Hall, ready for my f< son's arrival. He may come at any b time, and without warning." a "I will see that he is welcomed pro- ii perly. madam," replied Harris. Her trunks were packed in haste, c "oKv a slrurlp maid?Salome h had died years before?she departed s, from Tempest Island. I She was absent a month. No mem- S ber of the household knew whither she had gone, or what the errand was which had called her away. She came back one day in the late winter. Vincent Hawkstone, who had given old Harris no end of trouble in the island a lady's absence, went down to the wharf si to meet her. As she stepped ashore b from the yacht which had brought her b from Whithaven, the boy noticed that her movements were feeble and slow, v She had a wan, wasted look. It seem- b ed as though a dozen years had pass- c ed over her since her departure. She o was not alone. By her side walked a a young girl in a mourning frock?the f handsomest creature that Vincent had li ever seen. C "Who the deuce can that be?" thought the boy, as he sprang to meet h his aunt. ^ "Has Basil?has my son arrived?" was her first question, made in an anxious and enfeebled voice. e "No." replied Vincent; "we have n heard nothing from him since you ^ went away. Basil?you think of no one but Basil! Of course he's not com- j ing. By Jove! if I had his money. I j, wouldn't quit Paris and Rome for such ^ a place as Tempest Island, though life here seems likely to be more tolerable r now!"?casting a bold look at the t girl, who was surveying him with a r pair of scornful eyes, like blackest y velvet. e "Vincent," explained Mrs. Hawk- h stone, quietly, "this child Is the daughter of mv old friend. Gabriel Ravenel She was named for me?she now be- I longs to me. for her father has recent- r ly died, and I have adopted her. I <i went south a month ago to take charge s >f Jetta. Harris, give me your arm: am growing old." "Old, madam!" said Harris, "an< fou still on the right side of forty Mo, no, that can't be. You are tire< vith your Journey?that's all." She leaned heavily on his arm a; hey went up to the house. Vincen md the girl, Jetta Ravenel, daughte: ?f that man who had once lain ii kVhithaven jail accused of the murdei >f Philip Hawkstone, followed after. "So you've come to live on the isand?" said Vincent Hawkstone.. 'Yoi ire southern, like my aunt, I suppose?' She had a neck as white as ivory ind down her shapely back streamer wo massive braids of black hair with urling auburn tips. She turned thai ame neck in a stately way, and anwered: "I.hope you do not belong here!" He laughed. "Only by sufferance! I am a poot elatlve merely?a hanker-on of the amlly. You will find Prince Lucifer lore agr eeable?everybody adores him nd snubs me. You seem to be a high nd mighty nriss. I wonder what my unt means to do with you? Whatver possessed her to bring a girl to 'empest Hall? It's no place for girls. V'e've had every other horror here in he last twenty years, but no girls. Vhy. you'll be like something out of a lenagerie." She gave him a withering look. "You are the most impertinent peron that I ever saw," she said, and hen walked on in contemptuous slmce. When they reached the porch Mrs. iawkstone turned and called the girl, oftly, tenderly. "Welcome to your new home, Jetta! want you to be very happy here, dear hlld?happier than I have ever been. Welcome, Gabriel's daughter!" Fhe led the young stranger across the ireshold with her own hand, then she jrned to say something to Harris, and :1! to the floor In a dead faint. They carried her Into the drawlngx m. She revived shortly, and looked round for Jetta. "Do not be frightened," she said: "It nothing?nothing but, fatigue"? railing Into the girl's scared face?"I la 11 be better tomorrow." The overseer dined with her that ay. "My good Harris," she said, "I hope ly Islanders will not look unkindly on abrlel Ravenel's daughter. She is n orphan, penniless, and alone in the orld. Already I love her next to asil." "Madam," answered Harris, "your landers will never show unkindness ? any one that you love. They have ill confidence in your wisdom, and lany of them no longer remember ven the name of Gabriel Ravenel." She nodded. "Yes?yes, they seem to have forgot;n all the evil of the past?they love le now?they believe in me. I have lans for this young girl, Harris, which need not tell you now. Tomorrow r>u must go to Whithaven and bring le a lawyer and a physician?1 have eed, I think, of both." That night the island lady wrote to er son, urging him to return at once, s matters of importance demanded is immediate presence. Of the girl etta she made no mention. She arose from the table at which le had been writing and walked to le window of the library?that ancient indow written over with the names r Roehambeau's officers?and looked ut on the night. A full moon rode in le sky. and shone down on the great m. and the hills and downs of the Isind. The naked vines of the porch parked frostily In the white light, eare and silence reigned. Did the [awkstone doom still brood over this pot? Would the fate of this other etta. Gabriel's daughter, named In relembrance of his first unfortunate >ve, be happier than her own? "God grant it!" she shuddered. For years this woman had battled leffectually with a great silent sor)w. Now she was entering upon anther contest as hopeless as the first. Usease, merciless, incurable, was her ntagonist, and the end could not be tr away. Above stair, Jetta the girl ly asleep her first sleep on Tempest dand. Below, Jetta the woman stood ->r a long time with the moonlight tiling on her black dress and premaiirely bleached hair, her joyless eyes urned outward on those miles of island E-rrltory where she had lived and suf?red for twenty years. Then she went ack to the table, took up her pen gain, and firmly added these concludtg lines to her letter: "My days are numbered, Basil? nme quickly! I have had a sad life, ut it is almost done, and there is oinething of great importance which must communicate to you before I o." CHAPTER VI. A Death Bed. Two months later he came. It was n afternoon in spring, and in the ame Cedar Chamber where Philip lawkstone had met death long years efore his widow now lay dying. The massive oak furniture, carved . 1th the arms of the Hawkstones, had een brought from England in the preeding century. The polished floor was verspread with eastern rugs. A nurse nd a physician stood by the huge our-poster whereon Mrs. Hawkstone \y. like a piece of fragile porcelain, fabriel Ravenel's daughter crouched iy the side of the bed, holding the and of her friend and wetting It with ler tears. "Basil?where is Basil?" murmured he sick woman; "will he never come?" "Basil has not yet arrived." answerd the doctor, soothingly. "But your ephew Vincent is below in the drawng-room?will you see him?" "No, no; not Vincent?I want only lasil," she said, in a feeble, wanderng voice; "did you not tell me that he lad sailed from Liverpool?" "Yes, madam; and the steamer, arived safely yesterday. I telegraphed o him that you could not last till midlight. Courage! he will soon be with ou. Sampson went over to Whlthavn to meet the New York express an lour ago." She moved uneasily on her pillow. "Strange that he delays so long! t is quite unlike Basil. If he does noi nake haste he will find me gone. Look nit again. Jetta?is there any boat in ight?" The girl flew to the window - The sun was just setting: over the tumbled hills and grray downs of the Isi land and glinting the tawny wings of ? the windmills. Peacocks screamed along J the old seawall at the foot of the grounds and out beyond It. Jetta's s eyes, searching the berylllne seatrack, t espied a sail making swiftly for the r wharf. l "It Is Sampson's catboat," she cried, r "and there are two men in it. Yes, he Is coming, Mrs. Hawkstone?he is coming, at last!" 1 "Thank God!" .murmured the sick ' woman, falling back in the arms of , her nurse. 1 Jetta Ravenel remained at the wini dow, a lithe, girlish shape, full of t leopard-like grace, and saw the cat boat approach the landing and its two occupants leap ashore. One proceeded to secure the little craft, the other hurried up the green slope to the Hall. He carried himself with a grand air. j > The title of Prince Lucifer seemed not * j ' altogether inappropriate to this lordly " i American. Jetta Ravenel watched him t In strange fascination. It was her first ' glimpse of the man who was fated to work such havoc in her own young > life. He gained the porch. Before he could i touch the brass knocker some watcher from within had admitted him. With tremendous strides he ascended the stair. The door of the Cedar Chamber flew back and Basil Hawkstone stood again in the presence of his stepmoth I er. He staggered to the bed and fell on his knees beside it. Mrs. Hawkstone made a gesture to the nurse and the a physician. tl "Leave us together." she said. They vanished. w "You must go also, Jetta." \ The girl cast one look at Basil w Hawkstone prostrate In his splendid c strength, and darted out in the wake c of the others. The widow and son of p Philip Hawkstone were thus left alone d In the Cedar Chamber. 'Basil!" a "Mother!" "Oh, my darling, you went away for one year and you have remained three!" ii He shuddered. ti "Yes, I was detained by many things, tl Oh, don't reproach me, mother?I never dreamed that you were so ill." w She turned his handsome face to the light. w "How worn and haggard you look, h Basil! how changed! You have grown |r old and?and?unfamiliar." ei He winced. u "Old??changed? Well, that is not a strange, mother. After all, three years ir a long while, and of late I have been s] anxious and unhappy about you." She saw that he was evading her. t< "You are keeping something from S( me, Basil!" she cried. "But wait! I tf must speak first"?catching her breath _ painfully. "Do you not see that I must tl make haste??I have so little time. In the last few months?yes, ever since I ni knew that I was stricken with a mortal disease?I have thought only of v, you, planned only for you. In the cor- y ner yonder stands a cabinet." He look- w ed and nodded. "It holds my private s] papers. Here Is the key," forcing the same into his hand. "The topmost m document is for you to read as soon as j,( I die?let no eye but your own see It? it was written for you only, and from if you will learn something of what I w have suffered since I came to this island." al The light began to die in the cham- y ber; it seemed as though the voice of t| the island lady failed with it. w "Lift me a little. Basil," she said: w "there is such a sense of suffocation p) here," pressing her hand to her breast. w ivn life, and you liave broken my " part, in my dvlng hour." w She fell fell suddenly baek on the ai ti "Speak to me again!" he cried, in Itter remorse: "even if it be to curse i.. 01 le!" But there was no answer. In the rms of that idolized stepson who had pa it to her proud, patient heart the ist blow that it was ever to know. sc le lady of Tempest Island lay stark nd dead. w To be Continued. vv is A Protest.?The brave ship was allowing In the waves that threaten- C| ned to engulf her at any moment. ei Hastily the captain ordered a box ai ( rockets and flares brought to the b, ill, and with his own hands ignited a w umber of them, in the hope they bi ould be seen and the passengers and , rew rescued. 'Mid the rockets' red glare, a tall, lr lin, austere individual found his way ir ith difficulty to the rail and spoke to 7( le captain. "Captain." said he. "I must protest gainst this dare-devlllshness. We are (j ow facing death. This is no time jr a celebration."?Success Magazine. a' She looked him straight in the eyes. "Do you remember your father?" "Imperfectly." w "You know how he died?" p, "Yes." "It was in this very room?you and I have never talked of the matter before, p( I wanted to die here, also. You have ^ heard of Gabriel Ravenel?" "He was the man suspected of my c, father's murder." "Yes. He was likewise my lover in p( the days before I met Philip Hawk- w stone. You have heard the story of his arrest?of how he lay in Whithav- o) en jail for weeks, accused of a foul q crime, and I did not?I could not open ^ my lips to declare his innocence, |r though I knew it only too well, and V( though he was the son of a guardian ^ to whom I owed everything in the al past." n, "Mother!" "You may well look at me in horror. After Gabriel was released he returned to the south. There he made a loveless marriage, and was soon left a fe widower with ai. Infant son. Then S( came the war. He took the field with ^ the forces of his native state?he sought and won 'the bubble reputation at the cannon's mouth,' and, when the struggle was over, sank quickly, like ^ many others, Into obscurity?a crfp- _ pled, ruined, Impoverished man. A few months ago he sent me a letter V( which wrung my heart. It was the first news that I had heard of him for many years. He was dying in poverty and wretchedness, attended only by his jr little daughter Jetta, the fruit of a j, second marriage, which seems to have tj been as unhappy as the first. To my 0| care he committed the child. I started e| south immediately?I found his grave 01 ?I also found Jetta and brought her 0, back with me, determined to make res- ^ tltutlon to the father through the daughter?to atone for the wrong I had done him, for the misery and shame that he had suffered because of me? b by rearing his child as my own. and (r lavishing upon her every good gift that a mother can bestow. Oh, Basil, a, she is so young, so friendless, and I ' must go and leave her when she needs |g me most?go, with the debt I owe Ga- jj briel unpaid, with my work of repara- a tion scarcely begun. Basil, Basil, I must leave it all to you?I must leave s Jetta herself to you." A look of relief crossed his handsome anxious face. w I "Is that all?" he answered. "I ac- e cept the child as a sacred trust." i "No, that Is not all." she gasped. ? "By birth Jetta is your equal?she will n i one day be a great beauty. As for her " poverty, that can be no objection to c: you, for you inherit great wealth. Basil, swear to me that Gabriel's daugh: ter shall be your future wife." tl : The blood rushed Into his face and i out again. a "You do not know what you say," he d' SENATOR PHILANDER C. KNOX, n si t| nswered, hoarsely. "Ask anything but f( [lis. mother?anything but this!" It "It is my last request," she pleaded, v i-ildly; "surely you canont refuse it! ly heart is set upon your marriage w rith Jetta. There is a weight on my t( onscience?I must provide for the ^ hild's future. If you love me, Basil, tj romlse that you will marry Gabriel's g aughter." b "Mother, I cannot!" he groaned, with |r verted face. -j "And why?" al "Because I ain already married!" b< There was a moment of dead silence p i the Cedar Chamber. Only the salt ttl de kept up its monotonous beat on le beach below the seawall. t! "Married!?you!" gasped the sick u oman. "When??to whom?" ja "Two years ago, in London, to one aj ho had taken my heart by storm." a e stammered. "Forgive me for keep- tj lg the matter a secret from you, moth- c( r?I feared to tell you about Vera?I jr ?ared your prejudice, your anger g| nd" r( He had given her a fearful shock? e< le stared wildly. jr "My prejudice?my anger! You a >rture me, Basil! Have you married lme objectionable person, that you of Llk like this? Tall me the whole truth -hide nothing from me now, Basil? lerem no time for further deception." a His iron-gray eyes were full of re- IT1 lorse and dread. "God forbid that I should deceive w du more," he said. "It is true that p] era was beneath ma socially, as the orld Judges such matters, but why lould we, Americans, born and bred ^ ? consider all men and women equal, |r raw hateful lines of caste? Vera was ^ aod and beautiful?surely that Is a| lough to say." e, In spite of her ebbing strength she j as still keen and comprehensive. r( "Not every woman, though lovely id good, can be your equal, Basil. ei here must always be social distinc- n, ons in the world. Do you rememoer w hat you said to me at parting?you fe ould stoop to nothing less than a jr rlncess?you believed few women ere fit to mate with a Hawkstone?" He colored painfully. S( "Foolish words! I did not then know hat love was; I had not felt Its cruel k] >wer." w Her cold hands cltuched his own. jc "You evade me. Speak, speak. Basil, j] efore I am past listening. Let me now the choice you have made." M The truth must be confessed. He >uld not lie to a dying woman. ^ "Her name was Vera Hawtree." he e, egan. "She was an orphan, with? ai 1th?obscure antecedents. I first saw f er at Muswell Hill, in the environs f( t London. It was a gala night. tj rowds of people filled the circus there. j,, favorite equestrienne came riding ito the ring. She was a mere child In tr ears, and beautiful as an angel. I tI larried her one week from that night q nd carried her away to the Contl- ^ ent." tr Mrs. Hawkstone uttered a sharp cry. fg "A circus rider, Basil!* al "Yes; but do not condemn her unistly. She had been bred to the pro- v.j :sslon by her father, and she was h, ?arcely sixteen at the date of our larriage." e. By a superhuman effort Mrs. Hawk- s( one raised herself on her pillow. ^ "That was two years ago, you say? as your wife made you happy. Basil? p. -oh, my grand, proud darling?last ut one, of the Hnwkstones?have you et regretted your choice?" For his life he could not speak. She ^ ave a despairing groan. "You need not answer. I see It al! w i your face. A circus rider! And this a the princess to whom you stooped? . le woman who is to succeed me here e: a Tempest Island! God help you. Ba- cj 1! The curse of the race has fallen . b' a you earlv! You have wrecked your JUiscrllaitcoua &caiUn(|. WORK OF INDIAN TRAILE.w. w fi Ii l~heir Skill In Following Man and n Beast. ti When a frontiersman talks of a trail, (le may mean anything that indicates v he passage that way of somebody or n lomethlng. But there Is another sort 11 if a trail that the Indians became ex- e >ert in following, and some or me rears if the aborigines of the west have bor- u lered on the miraculous. An old In- 0 llan left his people In southwestern 11 California and wandered over the des- v rt, after having become demented n hrough senility. This same Indian, In n lis younger days, had been noted for ils ability to trace the slightest trail a' eft by man or beast, and his recov- t( ry and return to the care of friends 'r /ere due entirely to" the ability of s< fiembers of his tribe to follow the fee- ai le trail on the desert which he left as e started on his aimless wanderings. s< It Is difficult in the extreme to fol- c< jw the trail of one who does not at- tr smpt to hide the fact that he has been hl raveling across the country, writes .'laience E. Edwards In the San Fran- " Isco Chronicle, and this being true, It 'c lay be understood how much more al ifflcult the task becomes when ^ le person followed has used every en- w eavor and precaution to efface all p< larks that show his passage. Take tr uch a trail, and success depends en- 81 irely on the ability of the trailers to w jllow for miles by means of discover- cr lg marks left by accidental or inadertent slips of the foot. An expert trailer can follow a trail ar here a trained hound would fall Cl ) find a scent. Sign means any evl- cr qmoo thuf onmolhlnor ho a hnon whPrp ^ le object is seen. Ashes, tin cans, un shells, pieces of paper or clothing, roken sticks, footprints, anything ar ldlcating that man has been there is tu dgn." Broken bushes, overturned logs m nd stones, muddy water, scratched er ark or earth, patches of hair, foot- ce rints, ull indicate the passage of an g( nitnal and are "sign." Where these signs are continuous ley make the trail, and where the trail m sed frequently and for a long time It st i known as an old trail. Where the 'n gns are new and recently made It is ar fresh trail. As the trail is the con- 'n nuation of the "sign." or rather a suejsslon of "signs," it follows that trail- ar ig Is the ability to find this succes- cr on of signs in order to follow the ln >ute taken by the object being trail- Wl i. To become a good trailer there- ^ >re it is necessary to have a keen eye, 811 good knowledge of the country, a lorough acquaintance with the habits f animals and the character of sign rnt each kind of animal makes. If t0 le object trailed be white or red men 'n knowledge of the habits of these 0> lust also be had. In this branch of field craft the ta hlte man must always take second ^ lace to the Indian, for in the red majj' th lere is the weight of generations <ft ar allers to make the art one that Is al- 011 mst second nature. I am sure that *? i many cases which have come under at ,11 ly observation the art of trailing has mounted to an Instinct. Whites nev- th * become so expert as do Indians, but have known Mexicans who have ex- c'' illed and surpassed the Indians. I ^ ave heard of many expert white trail s, but in every instance the expert- p ess was good for a white man, but ould have been considered as indif- so rent had the work been done by an to idian. Even white men who have ot een captured as boys by Indians and to 'ained to manhood have never been av ? good as the Indians themselves. ci Probably the finest trailer ever pi nown was Pedro Esplnosa, a Mexican, th hose powers bordered upon the myth- 111 al. A story told by Oen. Dodge will th lustrate what an expert trailer Is able h< > accomplish under conditions that hi >em to preclude possibility of success, at "I was sent in pursuit of a party of m lurdering Comanches," said the gen- th al, "who had been pursued, scattered ad the trail abandoned by a party of er exas Rangers, who found the task of sa dlowlng the Indians too difficult for Wi lem. Eight days after the Indians w, ad been scattered and had taken dlf- b? rent routes to some prearranged th leeting place I put Esplnosa on the he ail. One of the horses ridden by the th omanches was shod, the rest were fa arefoot, and Esplnosa followed the |n all of the shod horse. When we were re ilrly into the rough and rocky Gaud- oi lupe mountains, Esplnosa stopped, th Ismounted and picked up from a ere- r, Ice In the rocks four shoes of the ip arse. Its owner had found out the tv ict that this horse would leave an m tslly followed trail and he put him- th If on an equality with the re$t of the m and by removing the shoes. With a th rim smile Espinosa handed them to nr ie and said the Indian intended to eij Ide his trail. sll "For six days we journeyed over the ex >ughest mountains, turning and twist- ur ig in what was apparently the most t)jectless manner. Not a man In my in hole command was able to discover l< single evidence that any human be- tu ig had gone that way ahead of us, ?a ?cept at times when Espinosa would ra ill attention to some faint mark left W1 y the Indian horses. One or two oc- he islons I lost patience and demanded ai at he show me some evidence that p. e were after the band of Comanches. to id he would blandly answer, 'pocn <.-t empo* ("a little while"). Then In a w] lort time he would point to a mark i<r r a footprint or some other unmistak- ta ble sign. We followed the devious to indings of this almost Indistlnguish- sc ble trail for nearly 150 miles, and Uf uring the entire ride Espinosa left his ti< uldle but three times to look closer at ie ground. He finally took us to UJJ here the Indians had reunited and we ^ ere able to overtake them and pun- n, h them for their raiding." fo I had an experience in the Apache ca impaign which, I think, shows great- m r skill than that told of by the gener- nf I. All Indians are expert trailers, the (r est in this respect being the Dela- t|( ares, Comanches and Apaches. The m est trailer that ever came under my se bservation was an Apache who was i the employ of the government dur- g ig the campaign of Gen. Crook in Ari- so ,na- ar During the campaign the best sol- th iers of the regular army were pitted ch gainst the best fighters and hiders co mong all the Indians. To assist them he troops had in their employ a numer of Indian scouts and trailers who . ere famed for their experience and or their knowledge of the habits of the ndians who were out. These trailers ,-ere also Apaches, but of a different ribe from those who were at war. The Ihiracahuas, who had left their reseratlon and who had been raiding and lurdcring were admittedly the worst odlans In all the United States. Sevral Tonto Apaches had been brought ito camp for the purpose of assisting s in following the Chiracahuas, and ne night word came in that a band of ie raiders had made its way into the alley below us and under the very oses of the troops had robbed several inches and murdered the inhabitants. In order to make a successful move gainst these Indians it was necessary > march at night on account of warnlgs sent ahead by signal fires. As ion as night came a troop of cavalry rid a company of trailers were out af>r the raiders. All the day Indian :outs had searched the surrounding >untry for trails, and when the oops were ready to start tne scouts ad a trail which they believed led Irectly to the rancherla or village of le raiding Apaches. The trail was >1 lowed over stony and rough ground, id through underbush, In the dark, le trailers actually feeling their way Ith their hands. They seemed to exjrlence no difficulty In tracing the all with their fingers In the dark, but iddenly there was a halt, and word as sent back that the trail had been ossed by a fresher one. A consultation was held, the Indians ilding their hands on the trail until i officer came up. A light was proired and the new trail examined. The oss trail proved to be that of a bear, hlch had passed along after the Inans. The original was taken up and Mowed steadily through the night, id the rancherla was found and capred early in the morning. This rearkable feat of trailing was conslded the greatest ever known, and reived mention In the report of the tneral to the war department. The Indian Is taught from earliest dldhood to note and examine every ark on the ground. He is given conant Instructions regarding the placg of his feet while on the march, id under all circumstances, whether peace or war, he hides his trail. It is become a second nature to him, id the watching of the trails he ossea is as instinctive as Is the hldg of his own. But it is not alone by atchlng the marks left on the ground at he follows those whom he Is purling. He does as he knows they have >ne, and travels by landmarks. His perfect knowledge of the couny tells where the fleeing party Is bound pass if not too closely pursued, and stead of following an Intricate trail 'er wkle expanse of country he makes rectly for the'"place where he Is cerln the trail will cross a ridge or rough a pass In the mountains. If e fleeing party makes devious twists id turns, crossing and recrosslng Its rn trail in order to throw the folwers off the expert trailer does not tempt to follow these turns, but goes rectly to the landmark ahead and us frequently gains an hour's time. Is only when the pursued Is very osely pursued that he will abandon e landmarks and endeavor to throw e pursuers off by striking out lndeindently across the country. Sometimes a large party finds itself i hotly followed that It Is compelled scatter and the members take devils ways across mountains or plains a point some hundred of miles vay. Then the trailer finds his work it out for him, for the trailer cannot oceed so rapidly as he who makes e trail. The-Indlan on a raid pays tie attention to his front. He knows at this weakness is in his trail and t always carefully guards the rear of s march. His knowledge of his own >lllty to find the trail of his enemy akes him afraid of the discovery of at left by himself. Reference Is still made to the "Cheyine raid," which took place In Kans In 1878. This memorable event as not a raid in the true sense of the ord. The northern Cheyennes had ;en rounded up and transported to e Indian Territory, where they were >ld on a reservation, much against eir wills. Wild Hog, one of the most mous chiefs of the tribe, led the tribe an effort to break away' from the servatlon and return to the old home, ne hundred and twenty men, with all eir women and children, left Fort pno, fought their way through one le of troops and evaded and outran > 0 other lines. They traveled 300 lies In ten days, but so expert was eir chief that they left scarcely a ark to show where they went over e prairie. They marched in open der, covering a belt from three to ght miles wide, and left a trail so Ight on the hard prairie that the most :pert trailers among the troops were lable to trace them. The fourth line of troops turned the dians after a battle In which Col. ?wls was killed, and then Wild Hog rned toward the settled part of Kans to get fresh mounts. After this id the band tied to the sand hills, here it secreted Itself near water ties known to the Indians alone, mong the trailers at the fort was a iwnee Indian. He was put to work solve the problem. He followed eadily after the fleeing band, and here the trail was lost he utilized his lowledge of landmarks, never hesiting for a minute, and ran the band its hiding place after every other out and trailer had given the task > as being one impossible of comple)n. The most remarkable bit of lndividil trailing was that which preceded e finding of a little girl in the Gunson Valley Ih Colorado. A little girl ur years old wandered away from a bin on Tumlche Creek and was not issed for several hours. Apparently ? trace of her was left, and the disacted father rode to the nearest set;ment for help. Hundreds of white en of the valley turned out and arched all day without finding a sign the little one. Finally it was sugisted that Ute trailers at a camp me twenty miles away be sent for id this was done. The Indians got on e ground twenty-four hours after the did was missed and then the whole untry had been so tramped over by the white searchers that all hope of finding a trail was seemingly lost. Three Indians, stimulated by hope of a big reward which was offered, went to work, and before night they found the child, unhurt but almost dead from fright and exposure. They did their work in a most systematic manner, covered the ground thoroughly, and soon found the direction taken. Then began an ideal bit of trailing. Foot by foot they went over the ground noting a broken twig here, an overturned stone there or a small impression on the damp earth. Sometimes they would go for a mile without finding a single thing to Indicate that the child had passed that way and then they would find the Impression of a little bare foot In a patch of wet earth. The child was found eight miles from home, and hid so closely when the Indians approached her that they passed her and were almost at fault. They had to double back severer times before they espied her hidden under a fallen tree. I was reminded of the work of an old and conscientious pointer when he is following the trail of a scattered covey of quail by the manner in which these Utes followed the child through eight miles of trackless mountain covered with underbrush. The old story of the man who deftcrlbed a lost camel so accurately that he came near being jailed for having stolen It finds its parallel In the Apache country, where an Indian boy so accurately described a horse and rider that the soldiers who were after the deserter took the boy Into custody for having murdered the man and secreted the horse. But for the fact that the boy offered to guide them to the real thief he would have been shot. The horse had been stolen by a deserter, who was trying to make his way out.of the country. A squad of cavalry was sent after him, but had missed his trail and meeting an Apache boy they asked him if he had seen a man on a horse go by that way. He asked If it was a sorrel horse, lame in the right hind leg and ridden by a tall man who belonged to the army. On being answered In the affirmative he said he had not seen the man or the horse. This made the sergeant In command angry and he ordered the arrest of the boy for killing the man and stealing the horse. The boy protested his Innocence and told how he knew the horse was a sorrel and that he was lame. He showed where the horse had rubbed against a tree and had left some sorrel hairs. He pointed to where the animal had crossed a muddy place and showed that the Impressions made by the right hind foot were not so heavy as those left by the other feet Ha showed another Dlace where the man had got down off the horse, leaving the mark of his heavy army boot on the ?>oil, and showed where he had reached up and broken off the limb of a tree at a height which could have been reached only by a tall man. The soldiers were unconvinced and the boy offered to trail the man and And him if he were released and paid for his services. This was agreed to and he led them to the deserter, who had been compelled to stop and rest on account of the lameness of his horse. In the west every ranchman must be a trailer to a certain extent if he expects to keep his stock. He must be able to pick out the tracks left by his own straying animals among the hundreds and maybe thousands of others which roam over the country. The result that follows is that the ranchmen learn to do what the Indian has been compelled to do from his childhood and watch for imprints on the earth, changed positions of stones and broken and bent sticks and grass. AMERICAN 08TRICH FARMS. Four In California, While Arizona Has 2,000 Birds. The recent establishing of the Los Angeles ostrich farm within the city limits *of Los Angeles gives California four ostrich enterprises?the others being at San Diego, South Pasadena and San Jose. The South African farms do not manufacture and retail their product, but in California, says Sunset, the feathers are grown, manufactured and retailed by the same concern. i ne initiative m mc uou>vi. try was taken about thirty years ago by Dr. Sketchley, who established a farm at Anaheim. Later on other men imported birds and assisted in establishing: the business. The greatest development of the business has been In Arizona, where there are at present over 2,000 birds. Their product of feathers has been sold principally to New York manufacturers. There Is a tendency on the part of the ostrich feather growers to combine their efforts In building up the Industry and In this way give to the southwest a distinct industry characteristic of its climate and sunshine. At the present time fully $12,000,OoO worth of ostrich feather goods are sold annually In the United States, and of this amount California has sold approximately $200,000, which proves that there is ample field for the California producers to enlarge their business. The cost of manufacturing ostrich feathers Is less than In New York, although the scale of wages Is the same. The difference Is due to the ever-present sunshine and the warm climate, which makes heating expense a small item. The California farms can produce, manufacture and retail their feathers for fully one-third less than It Is necessary for eastern retailers to charge. There Is a 50 per cent duty on Imported plumes, boas, etc., which gives the r-aii/n,Tiia r,rnHiiot a. ereat advantage. The quality of the California product is as a rule superior to the grade of goods commonly retailed throughout the United States, due to the fact that the feathers are fresher when they reach the consumer and retain the life and beauty which is often destroyed in Imported feathers by the methods pursued In handling, packing and shipping. The California product is sold throughout the United States, principally by mall orders, but retail salesrooms are maintained at the farms and in the shopping centres of Los Angeles. 't'T Dainty little India rubber boots are now offered for sale in London for the "feet" of toy terriers or other dogs that may be the pets of wealthy mistresses. These are tied round the legs with silk cords. '