Newspaper Page Text
NOD SA WAN A
• • • • • • By ROY NORTON ■c ]■ Copyi-lgbl by ODS, he was called, not be cause he was particularly sleepy, but rather as an abbreviation for the only name which he had ever known, bis Indian appella tion of Nodsawana. May be he got the name with out christening, the Nez Perces got n white boy, they didn't much on formality. When Sandy Smith first saw him, he was about three years old and was in trouble. He was about as dirty as any member of the tribe which harbored him, and save for oc casional light spots, where bis skin accidentally broke through the crust, and save for his top shock of straw colored hair, it would have been rather difficult to recognize him He waa standing outside a teepee at a safe distance—wbsre things couldn't be thrown at him—gritting his teeth, sobbing and kneading his eyes with two very dirty, very pudgy fists. 8andy had been on a kind of vaca tion, the kind that suited him best. By selling some timberland in the Olym pics and reinvesting In a mining elalm, he stood In a pretty fair way to get rich. That Is, almost everybody In the district thought so. So he'd been making a little trip over Into Idaho. But that hasn't much to do with Nods. Coining back to him—Sandy happen ed to ride through this camp Just at the time when Nods was feeling pretty bad. N When rVî SO \ as white. If the angel Trouble had a Job hand, he must have felt like pulling a gun when Sandy Smith came around; because that was Sandy's weak point. Couldn't hear to see anybody, let alone a child, in sorrow. Seeing Nods crying, out In front of the teepee, Sandy pulled up his horse, swung over Into the side of his saddle, and took a look at such an amazing thing as a little white hoy In an Indian village a hundred or so miles from any where; and, naturally, Nods recipro cated the attention. The pudgy fists came away about a foot from the tear-stained face and then stopped. The eyes, which looked just like gentian flowers, opened wide, and Nods sized Sandy up for all he was worth. Then, either because he hadn't forgotten white folks or because there was something about Sandy that went to his baby heart, he twisted his face Into a smile that was like a big burst of sunshine over a rain-swept meadow. Now all this time Sandy had been watching him with kind of a paralyzed look. When Nods gave him that smile, he couldn't help giving It back. Sandy's face, with Its long, straggling mus tache, was one of the set, steady kind that aeldom changed; but If any one ever saw him laugh, It was sure to be a surprise. It was so unexpected, and made you think there were things In Sandy that you never knew be fore. on Nods saw this, agd without delay trudged up alongside the pony and held up both hands. Wanted to be taken up and away from that village; to go to some place with some one who had a kind word Instead of a kick tor him. Sandy fairly fell off his horse, dropped down on his knees, and put his big, long arms around Nods, and that's how it began. How Sandy and Nods became acquainted. Nods gave a sigh big enough for a full-grown man, and, soon as he could get room, put his two little arms around Sandy's neck, smuggled his face right up against Sandy's, and held It mere. And from that on Sandy could have died for him. It wasn't anything he was used to. in bis time, loved and been loved by lots of things, but not by a small chap Uke this So Sandy was crying and laughing, when he felt something looking at him, turned round, and saw three or four blanketed bucks. But in all the crowd there wasn't anything white. They itdn't look as though they liked Sandy He had, much. A powwow brought out the fact that this youngster had been left with an aid squaw by a man who claimed to be his daddy. Said he was coming Back In a week, but a year had slid off into the nowhere. The squaw was too Hd to do much camp work; but she wasn't too old to think a heap of Nods And probably about all the swans. kindness the little shaver ever knew In all that year bad been from her. The old woman, being not much u«e, and to subsist off the camp pickings, no there may have been times when ioth she and Nods went pretty hun It was easier for her to stand try. abuse, though, than It was for NodB. 8he was more used to it, having lived longer. The minute Sandy showed signs of wanting Nods, the chief valued him highly. It took a day and a night's trading to get him, but Sandy won out, Being the kind of a fellow that never quits. Once or twice he decided he'd ■nd the difficulty by going to war with the whole Nez Perces nation, grab bing Nods and riding off, trusting to God and his Winchester to pull him through. As he was getting ready to go and NodB was waiting. -Sandy heard a kind of moaning noise In the tepee where Nods lived, so took a look in Blde. her head and rocking to and fro with her hands clenched In front of her. There, with her blanket over LIGHTS USED Were Placed Near the Altar In the Early Daya, Not Upon It. Candlea that In very early It would seem . days, though lights were prescribed at mass "they were placell not upon but near the altar." Sometimes the num ber of lights at a solemn mass was great and the candles then used very ]■ F. L. Nel«o a was Nod's foster-mother. All the time that the trading was going on, one had paid any attention to her. She didn't count. Nods bossed this Job, too. He acted as if he bad forgotten something besides the bow and arrows, and about three yards of string, which he had already brought in the way of baggage. He crawled between Sandy's legs, where the latter Btood In the door of the tepee, put his arms around the old woman's neck, and she made quick grab and held him close to her breast. squaws aren't like other women when you get clear down below their outer Well, they are. Sandy was up against It again, because be under stood how she felt. Then he argued with himself In this fashion: "Although I do know how to care for mules and dogs, I ain't much up on kids. Onc't when I made a shirt out of buckskin for a kid. It took me six months. This old dame would be mighty bandy. So ehe's in the play. She's goin' to be Nod's little nursery maid, because he likes her; even If she is a hundred and fifty years old." The chief didn't care. It meant one mouth less to feed, and saved some body from knocking her on the head. And she, poor wretch, divided be tween affection for her tribe, dis trust of the white man, and love for Nods, finally gave In to the latter, and went along. Well, In the course of time, they all landed In Canada gulch, and set tled down into the happiest little par ty you ever saw. Before they came, the only partner Sandy had was a three-legged dog. Before they came, an elght-by-ten shack had been big enough. Now all this was changed. Sandy had the finest cabin on the gulch, trict. porch, and some store furniture. Quit using tin plates and tin cups and tin spoons. Swore off on tin, and got so that real china, a half-inch thick, the real, fine kind they use in restaurants in big cities, wasn't any too good. Nods brought an addition Into the family, not being satisfied with loaf lng around with the dog and Re becky. It was a shaggy little burro He called It Pete, although Sandy thought Jane would be more priate, because It wasn't a "Pete" kind of burro. Sandy, wanting to give Nods an "eddlcatlon," used to come In at night and laboriously teach hlm bis A B C'a, until the little yellow head would get the droops, and the eyes would lose their velvety brightness. Then any one passing the cabin would see the glow of a pipe, and, If he took the trouble to walk up the path be tween the sweet-smelling flowers, he would find a big, lank man sitting on a bench in the darkness of his porch, looking far out over the hill? and the lights of other cabins, and either telling stories or holding tight a tired little boy who had gone asleep —very fast asleep. 'Most always at their feet was curled a three-legged dog, ready to fight for them both If harm offered. If you looked farther where the lamp shone through the cabin door, you would probably see a bent old squaw, squatted on the floor, making something out of beads When one Is happier than ever be fore in all his life, and has every thing he wants, and all the love he has starved for through all the years the heels of Time's moccasins are greased. Then Time la young and travels fast. The fellow who first pictured him as a slow, dragging old man, with a gait like a turtle, and toting a scythe, must have known him only In trouble. That's when he goes slow. Two years, which didn't seem more than an hour long, bad passed over before Time went Blow In Can ada gulch, then stopped and made each day a month, each week an age and a lifetime a pack too heavy for the shoulders. Sandy had a piece of pipe to mend, and came up to the cabin, on the point of the hill, when he heard steps He turned round Inquiringly to see n man as big as himself. And he wasn't the sort of man you like. One of those bull-necked, thick-lipped coarse-looklng fellows, who leers In stead of smiles, and brags when he talks. "I've come to get my boy—the one you call Nods," he said. The wrench dropped from Sandy's clay-covered hands. A minute be fore the birds bad sung, the flowers bloomed, and the sun shone. Now the birds were voiceless, the posies with out color, and the sun had slipped from sight. It was very still, and all the world was unreal and full of bloom. A blow In Sandy's face would have brought Instant response, hut this strahger. In a dozen words, had hit full In the heart, so that It al most stopped beating, and. for the first time In all his life. Sandy trem bled and was afraid, and couldn't Btrlke back. He looked at the stran ger, at the cabin, and then up Into the sky. It didn't seem that God could be so unkind! This was something he had never thought of. He swallowed several times before he could, get speech, then said. In a dazed way: "Your boy? Nods your boy? And you've come fo him? Come for him? For Nods? no out one Seme folks have an Idea skin. The biggest in all the dis Had three rooms and a big appro AT THE MASS were Invariably made of wax. Anglo-Saxon writers, such as Aelfrlc In hlB "Tenth Canon," give' reasons for these lights. "The acolytes," he says, "light candles at mass not so much to dispel darkness as in honor of Christ, who is our light." Even when later on it became the general practice to have two candles lighted upon the altar, "twt> others," we are told, "were often lighted at To ttlu him away (rom ma —to taka Nodar Tha man didn't really know Bandy, you aea, or he wouldn't have broken It so confidently. Most men would have sooner gone against a Kansas cyclone, or a nest of rattlers, or a band of Apaches, than to stir up Sandy Smith. But this fellow didn't know him, and, to tell the truth, for once Sandy was taken off his feet. Nobody knows what would hare happened next, but lust then, around the corner of the cabin, with the dog and Pete following, came Nods, talk ing to Rebecky. The stranger turned, took a look at the squaw, knew her, and triumphantly waved his hand at her. "I can prove It," he said. "She knows It. I left him with her three yearB ago—over In Idaho. She'll tell you so. She has to tell you—It's the truth." Sandy turned and looked at Re becky, and she looked at this stran ger. But her face never changed a muscle. They all looked at her quite a while; then Sandy woke up For the first time he was rough with her. He made three quick steps, leaned over and grabbe'd her so tightly by the arm that she winced, In spite of her Indian blood, and said: "Rebecky, for God's sake, tell me! Did ye ever see this man before?" Everything was quiet for what seemed another long time. The man grinned at her, as If pleased over all the trouble be was making, and she looked him straight In the eyes, and, as she looked, her eyes changed. In stead of having a quiet, contented look, like happy old folk have, they "Heap lie. Never saw this white man before." Without waiting to say « grew narrow and black and sharp and young. Then she turned to Sandy: v I m iM-r IM If I! 1 -M * ji yx « fa If A Î !J ml ■& 1v, \ £ * m \ A sy<' Vs ^ //1 ham •<0 a V I m Ml 1 V \// t. w ■53 v* % 8 . M w/'JM i & l / *.-vs l V Iff 1 !/' k\V \ » m €. V/ m. *nji à / W//. ' ft \' VN f 7 f ll ? V / l \ AJ N \\ \ "PUT THE KNIFE INTO HER, WHY DON'T YOU7" more, she stooped over Nods, who ':ad stood curiously looking at all of hem, fiercely gathered him Into her arms, and trudged through the cabin door. "You see, you're mistaken, stran ger,'' Sandy drawled gently, with a big sigh of relief. "She don't know you. You caln't have the boy." The stranger began to argue, In a peaceable sort of way, and he and Sandy sat down on a log. Then Sandy heard something "slip-slipping" over the grass behind him, and turned round In time to see Rebecky with a hunting knife, about ready to end the stranger's claim on Nods, or anything else In the world. She was all In dian again, and was there to kill. Sandy grabbed her, and. although she was withered, old. bent, and small, and he a giant In strength. It was about all he could do to hold her off. She fought like a wildcat trying to get at this Intruder. Sandy got the knife away from her and turned to the man. The fellow sneered, and said: "Put the knife Into her. why don't you? She's nothin' but a lyin' old squaw." That started Sandy to bol'lng. nnd he moved toward him with that kind of a stealthy, deadly way that pan thers have when slipping up on some thing Tile fellow saw he had gone too far. and began to back off 'Now you hike, and be damned quick," Sandy Bald between hts teeth. the parochial or high masa during the canon, or at least before the eleva tion." But while it seems to have been usual at high mass on Sunday and feast days to have even In smaller churches two candles on the altar and two in larger candlesticks at the side the cumber was much greater In ab beys and cathedrals. At Chichester in the thirteenth cen tury It was the custom on great festl vais to place seven tapers of two pounds each on the altar, eight on the I the one thing that follows a man In open fight, and Is unwhippable." So It was that the big tamaracks moaned that night, and the flowers around the cabin drooped, while In company with them an old squaw "or I'll put It In you clear up to the hilt." The stranger ran away, but In this last move Sandy had practically ad mitted his own defeat. Had prac tically admitted the* he knew the man was within his rights. Other wise, why Rebecky's denial, and then her attempt to decide the question at the point of the knife? That was convincing. He turned Into the cabin, an old, old man; dropped on his knees over Nods, who was looking at a picture book, gathered him into his arms, and sobbed In the way a fellow of that kind does when he goes all to pieces —the big, dry, shaky kind, where the heart Jumps and Jerks, and tries to hammer Its way out of the body. The next day the sheriff came— alone. He knew Sandy and loved him, and dreaded the trip. He knew that to bring a posse would mean a fight In which many men would die. He knew that old Sandy Smltb, un less influenced by reason alone, would unflinchingly fight a regiment of officers to hold the thing he loved. But Sandy and the sheriff were friends, so It didn't come to that. "Sandy, old friend," he said, when Sandy had shut down the hydraulic's roaring mouth. "Sandy, God knows I hate this trip. I'd rather not be sheriff than to have to tell you But you've got to give the boy to his father. The man's got the proof and the order of court for bi3 child. You might kill me, or a dozen other better men who come after, but you can't kill the law. You know that! It's moaned upon the floor, and a bent, wearied, heart-stricken old man eat on the door-step with his fingers clutched through his hair—robbed— desolated and alone. And away over across a ridge, in a dirty little shack, on a worthless claim purchased for a song, a big, coarse man brutally cuffed a tired little boy for sobbing and gloated over a trijimph. Nods had gone from Sandy's life. Of course, Sandy and Rebecky knew, within a day or so, where Nods had been taken. There was Just one ridge—a low divide—between Canada gulch and Poor Man's gulch, where Nod's father bad taken his claim. But It was several days before either Sandy or Rebecky tried to see the boy. In the meantime, Sandy didn't work. He was kinder to Rebecky than usual, because he knew how the old woman suffered. He thought more of her for It, because It was per fectly natural that he should love anything which had loved Nods. He wandered aimlessly around the cabin, or out among the flowers. whe~e Nods had dug holes. He gulped when he picked up the little ABC books, and when he was alone, out under the big. sympathizing trees, had long talks with the l ord, begging him to show the way so the little feet might patter Into the cabin again. Then hts thoughts took a new turn, and he was the grim Sandy that men beam above It and two on the altar step; and on ordinary days three on the altar and two on the step. We know also that In the chapel of Henry VIII., on the Field of the Cloth of Gold, there were ten golden candle sticks on the altar. With regard to the universal cus tom of burning candles before shrines and Irrsgrs It would be imposs'ble to enumerate rxeireies of a prse'lce so beloved by the fa!th f ul. Put In Eng land In the 'hlrtcer'h centurv »here was a curious devotion very common feared. Rebecky understood, and she, too, feared. Perhaps It wasn't fear she felt, but rather the old call of the Indian blood. But, anyway, on the morning when Sandy dragged down the dusty Winchester from the wall, oiled it up, and filled the cham bers, she showed sense. He was Just starting from the door with It In the crook of his arm, his eyes fixed to ward the other gulch, when the stopped him, and said in Indian, which they sometimes used when talking to gether: "Not that way, brother. It would do the boy no good, nor bring him back to you and me. Peace pipes and the Great Spirit can make smooth rough trail." He didn't resist when she took the rifle from his hands, and stood quietly thinking, as cartridge after cartridge was ejected by her hand, to rattle, unheeded, on the cabin floor. Sandy finally went down across the gulch and up to the brow of the op posite hill. Where he could look on that other cabin. He was hungry for a sight of his boy. On the door step, dirty, unkempt, and dejected, sat lit tle Nods, while at his feet, cowering In fear of something, sat a three legged dog. which had already found the way across the hills. Nod's father didn't seem to like the dog's presence. He was puttering around at something, when Sandy sprawled on top of the ridge and Peering over, first saw him, then he came over to Nods, shook him, and when the dog bristled, gave him a kick. The dog wanted to fight, but the man beat him off to a safe dis tance, while Nods apparently cried Nod's father then slapped him. And the man came pretty near go lng out of the game about that min ute. On top of the ridge, a long, red haired fellow had shut his teeth pulled a heavy Colt's from his pocket and was taking very careful aim Things he drew a bead on didn't live long, as a rule. Then he decided the distance was too far. Decided some thing else, also; and that was thal he would go down and kill this brute. if it cost him his own life, his hope of the hereafter, and Nods. That boy should never be cuffed again, He would see to that, he muttered, as he crashed down into the clearing The man started to say something, but got a good square look into Sandy's flaming eyes, and decided this wasn't his hour to talk. Nods looked up, and with cries of "Daddy Sands! Dear Daddy Sands! I knew you'd come. I knew you would find me," rushed frantically over and clasped his arms tightly around Sandy's legs, For once he was not taken Into arms, For once there was no reply. Sandy had an errand to perform He wasn't the quiet Randy of the last, two years, but the old Sandy of the Geronirno and other border days. He had a mission. And Nod's father read it and grew white, and lost his defiant grin There in front of him stood Death Just waiting a few' minutes to do its work And It would b" done-the glint of the white-hot steel shone In the eyes, and told him so. The Lord mayn't always wort: | things out the way we like best, but. i somehow or another, if you're on the YOU7" at that period which consisted In having a candle made too the exact height of the person offering It. The petitioner then spent the whole night before the shrine holding the votive taper in his or her hands all the time. I Not a Lest Art. In one New York department store spe ling Is not a lost art. Amp'e mtao urea have been taken to enable wom en who write letters In that store *o spell correctly the names of the goods. Above each writing desk in the corre square, He seems to run things pret ty well, after all. Keeps us from doing a heap of things we shouldn't do. Now, about this time the Lord noticed that Sandy was going to make a mighty big mistake, so took a hand. "Daddy Sands," a little voice said, 'why don't you take me In your arms? T do so want your arms!" Sandy, naturally, couldn't kill a man and bold Nods at the same time, and when he grabbed up the boy, the Lord, having Interrupted at the rl-ht minute, kind of took him out of his madness, and led him Into sanity. The red things quit floating around In front of his eyes. His brain, so weary and so tired for all the sleep less nights since Nods had gone, grew clear again, and he saw what a big mistake he was about to make. Sandy finally put Nods down on the ground. When he did so, he saw three black-and-blue welts on the bare skin, where the unbuttoned blouse was open. Well—he would have a little satisfaction for that, anyway. He made one quick jump to where the man stood, his arm shot out with terrific force, and Nod's father fairly flew up Into the air. Before he could realize what had happened, Sandy was on him, one hand on his throat and the other bat tering his face. "I came here to kill you," he rasped between bis teeth. "You've been beating Nods. Take this as a prom ise that I'm coming here now every day. and If ever I find another mark on him, by God, 111 tear your heart out of your body, as sure as my name's Smith!" It seemed there wouldn't be any necessity for a return trip, the way Sandy's arm was working. His blood was boiling again, and the desire to kill so strong that, unless the Lord had Interfered again, It would have ended differently. It must have been the Lord who put It Into Nods' fa ther's mouth to say: "Let me go! 1-et me go! If you want the kid so bad, why don't you buy him?" Sandy's fingers released their hold. Buy Nods? Buy Nods? He had never thought of that before. It 'eemed so Incomprehensible that any body would offer to sell anything as dear as Nods; that of all the ways be had contemplated In these last weary days, this had been the one way overlooked. Slowly he climbed to his feet, and Nods' father, shrinking and battered nnd cowed, but hopeful for hts craven, worthless life, also arose. Cupidity was In the man's every look. He was caching the very end for which he 'ame, and for which—alone—he had claimed the boy. This was his "bance. "Give me your claim," he said, "and I'll deed you all my right, now nnd forever—to him." "It's done!" said Sandy, without 1 a moment's hesitation. His claim, the richest In all this land, the thing that could produce the gold which would buy a king's ransom, could go ns a ransom for this boy. Gold? What was gold? Nothing! A paltry metal, which, though all of It In the world were within his reach, couldn't nay for one clasp of those little arms 'hat again hugged him around his 'eet, and were soon after transferred to his Bun-tanned throat. They went Into the cabin, where Sandy, on a sheet of paper, wrote: "Know all men by these here docu ments—that one William Martin does hereby sell to one Smith, known to most folks as Sandy Smith, one white boy named Nodsawana. And this here thing calling himself a man— iforesald, and whereas known as Mar •In—takes as full pay number four Malm on Canada gulch, and It's •»greed by one of the aforesaid named Sandy—that he will kill this man Martin If he ever speaks to or claims •his aforesaid boy Nodsawanna again. So help me God. "P. S.—This Is also a quit claim deed to the aforesaid boy, and Just the mme as a bill of sale for a pony or anything else a lawyer might write transferring the boy to Sandy Smith." They signed It In several places, Sandy wanting to make dead sure, and Martin, who was mighty pleased at the deal, being perfectly willing. There had been a time when a pay 'ng claim, a big cabin, a heap of fur niture, and a field of flowers, would bave peemed Just about all 1n Ilfs that Sandy wanted ' B»t the boys on * ,,lch kn ° w ' and wl " tell you that al > these th,n K s wer8 P aR8ed U P llk * a P awn a " d wlt \ out thought, when ' ke f °" owln * da r 8and ' r and hI) am y rode away, They got up to that point you can on the very brow of the hill, where the trail dips off toward th« sunrise, the morning after. In th« lead w as Sandy Smith, holding Nodi on the pommel of his saddle. Next came two pack-ponies with an outfit, another pony with old Rebecky, and then Pete, on whose back was packed a big basket, in which a three-legged dog could ride Right up ôn that point they stopped and looked back, most of ua hope and believe without regret, on the cabin, and the claim, and the flowers. Somehow it was like the thing you remember out of the Bible, long after you've forgotten the words; perhaps you know the place—where a man named Joseph and a woman named Mary, and a tender, smiling little boy, rode off and out into th« big world, with none but God to care for them, and right sure In the knowl edge that He looks after His own. The man's arms closed around the little boy. the old woman behind was happy, and old Pe e and the three legged dog were willing to go along after, knowing that green pastures | can be found for all things which are faithful to the end. spondence room is a typewritten list of words containing the names of pop ular materials, colors and styles, with the Anglicized pronunciation of the most recently Imported foreign terms. Quick Changea. Wife—Darling. I want a new gown Husband—But you had a new one only a short time ago. Wife—Yes. but my friend Elles Is to be married and 1 can't wear tbs same dress as I wore at her last wed ding." IDAHO STATE NEWS The hay in the rear Qf u ver — stable at Heyburn caught fire during a hgh w1nd , causlng the destruction nf the barn an(1 contentSi except tho horses the Hpyburn mlI , and elevator offlcei als0 the offlce of the Heyburn Graln company, nothing being saved, Bellevue has a Commercial and Booster club, which has forty mem. bers. There are now 234 prisoners at the state prison, within four of the high water mark. It is thought that at least 2,000 acres will be irrigated this year on the Minidoka project. The Short Line has distributed seeds to the farmers as a loan. The demand for hay on the Twin Falls tract 1 b so great that the price has advanced to $7.50 and $8 a ton, and buyers are having difficulty in getting hay even at thlB price. It Is claimed that residence prop erty In Shoshone can be bought cheap er than in any town In Lincoln coun ty, notwithstanding the fact that Sho shone Is the largest town in ths county. Idaho fanners and fruit growers are perdlcting a smashing of all rec ords for the spring months in tha matter of rainfall, and a bumper crop of grain, hay, fruit and vegetables as a result. The State Bank of Blackfoot closed Its doors last week without explana tion from Its officers and the institu tion Is now In the hands of the state bank examiner, who Is Investigating the accounts. The Blackfoot State bank failed to open Its doors on the 10th, owing to the demand of the American Bankers Assurance company, who had guaran teed depositors against loss'to the ex tent of $200,000. The reins of the government at Welser passed Into new hands last week, and for the next two years Mayor Ray B. Ayers and an entirely new set of councllmen will guide ths destinies of that town. The Saturday Evening Post In the Issue of May 6, publishes an Interest ing Idaho story. The scene is laid near Buhl, and bas to do with the early settlement of Idaho, and the re cent rush to ths Jarbldge mining claims. Carl Christensen, who was arrested at Glenns Ferry some months ago on a charge of forging a check, and who was tried at Mountain Home and found guilty, has been sentenced to from one to fourteen years In the penitentiary. Bellevue has a municipal water system costing $17,000, supplying water for business and domestic pur poses. as well as pressure for fire pro tection. Bellevue has an electric lighting system both for Us streets and general use. C. W. Goldie of Payette, his wife and two children, had a narrow es cape from death near Vale, Ore., when he ran his automobile Into a train. The machine was wrecked and all of the occupants severely shaken up, but sustained no serious Injury. The board of county commissioners In Canyon county has advertised for bids for the construction of the Letha Payette river bridge. It Is located near the present townslte of Letha and crosses the river about midway between Emmett and Falk's store. Water has been turned Into the gravity canals on the north side of the Minidoka Irrigation project and the pumping plants have been started. Conditions on the pumping unit seem satisfactory and the settlers are get ting their landB Into first-class shape. It is claimed that the people In the vicinity of Hamer were catching big ■ trout with rakes and pitch forks from Camas creek for a while last week. The water had been diverted from tue creek to a reservoir, making It low In the stream and the fish easy to catch. Mrs. Frances Woods of St Louis, who says that she Is a cultured and refined widow, has written to the mayor of Boise, asking him to hand her letter to some ellg'ble man of from 40 to 65 years of age. The Richfield Recorder declares that there Is a really strong probabil ity that Idaho will soon have a special session of the legislature, to talk over the question of assessments of prop erty for taxation purposes. That the $35,000 which Is proposed to be expended In Improving Boise's fire department will be more than re paid within a year through actual sav ings made In Insurance rates, Is the opinion of Mayor Fitchman. The reclamation service will use several million feet of lumber In Its construction work on tne Arrow Rock dam, and congress has provided that the lumber shall be furnished free by the forest reserve of the district. A fatal error has been discovered in the call for the election held at Moun tain Home when the voters declared in favor of $35,000 bonds, to be used In the construction of a waterworks system. It will be necessary to hold another election. H. A. Collins of Wendell will paint the portraits of the territorial and state governors of Idaho, the last leg islature having appropriated $2,500 for that purpose. The capitol cora mlss'on decided last week to give Mr. Collins the contract. The Oregon Short Line last week awarded contracts for ninety-two miles of construct'on work to an Og den firm. One contract Is for sixty five miles of grading between Burley and Kelton Pass, and another for twenty-six miles of grading from Nyssa, Ore., to Homedale. May 16, June 13 and 27, have been set as wool sales days for the season of 1911 at Mountain Home. Two and a half million pounds of wool arc shipped from Mountain Home annual ly and there Is a half million pounds now In storage tlqgre awaiting disposi tion. The strict lawk for nurserymen ap pears to be driving foreign companies rom the Idaho field. The sta'e her •cultural Inspector declares that 12J urserymen previously did business -î tlrs state, where there are now 4 who have provided their bonds.